10611	----	from images generously made available by the Biblioth que nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr. AN ESSAY ON THE SLAVERY AND COMMERCE OF THE HUMAN SPECIES, PARTICULARLY THE AFRICAN, TRANSLATED FROM A LATIN DISSERTATION, WHICH WAS HONOURED WITH THE FIRST PRIZE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, FOR THE YEAR 1785, WITH ADDITIONS. * * * * * _Neque premendo alium me extulisse velim_.--LIVY. M.DCC.LXXXVI. * * * * * TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM CHARLES COLYEAR, EARL OF PORTMORE, VISCOUNT MILSINTOWN. MY LORD, The dignity of the subject of this little Treatise, not any persuasion of its merits as a literary composition, encourages me to offer it to your Lordship's patronage. The cause of freedom has always been found sufficient, in every age and country, to attract the notice of the generous and humane; and it is therefore, in a more peculiar manner, worthy of the attention and favour of a personage, who holds a distinguished rank in that illustrious island, the very air of which has been determined, upon a late investigation of its laws, to be an antidote against slavery. I feel a satisfaction in the opportunity, which the publication of this treatise affords me, of acknowledging your Lordship's civilities, which can only be equalled by the respect, with which I am, Your Lordship's, much obliged, and obedient servant, THOMAS CLARKSON. * * * * * Books Printed and Sold by J. PHILLIPS, ESSAY on the TREATMENT and CONVERSION of AFRICAN SLAVES in the BRITISH Sugar Colonies. By the Rev. J. RAMSAY, Vicar of Teston in Kent, who resided many Years in the West-Indies. In One Volume, Octavo. Price 5s bound, or 4s in Boards. An INQUIRY into the Effects of putting a Stop to the African Slave Trade, and of granting Liberty to the Slaves in the British Sugar Colonies. By J. RAMSAY. Price 6d. A REPLY to the Personal Invectives and Objections contained in two Answers, published by certain anonymous Persons, to an Essay on the Treatment and Conversion of African Slaves, in the British Colonies. By JAMES RAMSAY. Price 2s. A LETTER from Capt. J.S. SMITH, to the Rev. Mr. HILL, on the State of the Negroe Slaves; to which are added an Introduction, and Remarks on Free Negroes, &c. by J. RAMSAY. Price 6d. THOUGHTS on the Slavery of the Negroes. Price 4d. The CASE of our Fellow-Creatures, the Oppressed Africans, respectfully recommended to the serious Consideration of the Legislature of Great-Britain, by the People called Quakers. Price 2d. A SERIOUS ADDRESS to the Rulers of America, on the Inconsistency of their Conduct respecting Slavery. Price 3d. A CAUTION to GREAT BRITAIN and her Colonies, in a short Representation of the calamitous State of the enslaved Negroes in the British Dominions. By ANTHONY BENEZET. Price 6d. A Description of Guinea, its Situation, Produce, and the general Disposition of its Inhabitants; with an Inquiry into the Rise and Progress of the Slave Trade, &c. By ANTHONY BENEZET. Bound 2s. 6d. * * * * * THE PREFACE. As the subject of the following work has fortunately become of late a topick of conversation, I cannot begin the preface in a manner more satisfactory to the feelings of the benevolent reader, than by giving an account of those humane and worthy persons, who have endeavoured to draw upon it that share of the publick attention which it has obtained. Among the well disposed individuals, of different nations and ages, who have humanely exerted themselves to suppress the abject personal slavery, introduced in the original cultivation of the _European_ colonies in the western world, _Bartholomew de las Casas_, the pious bishop of _Chiapa_, in the fifteenth century, seems to have been the first. This amiable man, during his residence in _Spanish America_, was so sensibly affected at the treatment which the miserable Indians underwent that he returned to _Spain_, to make a publick remonstrance before the celebrated emperor _Charles_ the fifth, declaring, that heaven would one day call him to an account for those cruelties, which he then had it in his power to prevent. The speech which he made on the occasion, is now extant, and is a most perfect picture of benevolence and piety. But his intreaties, by opposition of avarice, were rendered ineffectual: and I do not find by any books which I have read upon the subject, that any other person interfered till the last century, when _Morgan Godwyn_, a _British_ clergyman, distinguished himself in the cause. The present age has also produced some zealous and able opposers of the _colonial_ slavery. For about the middle of the present century, _John Woolman_ and _Anthony Benezet_, two respectable members of the religious society called Quakers, devoted much of their time to the subject. The former travelled through most parts of _North America_ on foot, to hold conversations with the members of his own sect, on the impiety of retaining those in a state of involuntary servitude, who had never given them offence. The latter kept a free school at _Philadelphia_, for the education of black people. He took every opportunity of pleading in their behalf. He published several treatises against slavery,[001] and gave an hearty proof of his attachment to the cause, by leaving the whole of his fortune in support of that school, to which he had so generously devoted his time and attention when alive. Till this time it does not appear, that any bodies of men, had collectively interested themselves in endeavouring to remedy the evil. But in the year 1754, the religious society, called Quakers, publickly testified their sentiments upon the subject,[002] declaring, that "to live in ease and plenty by the toil of those, whom fraud and violence had put into their power, was neither consistent with Christianity nor common justice." Impressed with these sentiments, many of this society immediately liberated their slaves; and though such a measure appeared to be attended with considerable loss to the benevolent individuals, who unconditionally presented them with their freedom, yet they adopted it with pleasure: nobly considering, that to possess a little, in an honourable way, was better than to possess much, through the medium of injustice. Their example was gradually followed by the rest. A general emancipation of the slaves in the possession of Quakers, at length took place; and so effectually did they serve the cause which they had undertaken, that they denied the claim of membership in their religious community, to all such as should hereafter oppose the suggestions of justice in this particular, either by retaining slaves in their possession, or by being in any manner concerned in the slave trade: and it is a fact, that through the vast tract of North America, there is not at this day a single slave in the possession of an acknowledged Quaker. But though this measure appeared, as has been observed before, to be attended with considerable loss to the benevolent individuals who adopted it, yet, as virtue seldom fails of obtaining its reward, it became ultimately beneficial. Most of the slaves, who were thus unconditionally freed, returned without any solicitation to their former masters, to serve them, at stated wages; as free men. The work, which they now did, was found to better done than before. It was found also, that, a greater quantity was done in the same time. Hence less than the former number of labourers was sufficient. From these, and a variety of circumstances, it appeared, that their plantations were considerably more profitable when worked by free men, than when worked, as before, by slaves; and that they derived therefore, contrary to their expectations, a considerable advantage from their benevolence. Animated by the example of the Quakers, the members of other sects began to deliberate about adopting the same measure. Some of those of the church of England, of the Roman Catholicks, and of the Presbyterians and Independants, freed their slaves; and there happened but one instance, where the matter was debated, where it was not immediately put in force. This was in _Pennsylvania_. It was agitated in the synod of the Presbyterians there, to oblige their members to liberate their slaves. The question was negatived by a majority of but one person; and this opposition seemed to arise rather from a dislike to the attempt of forcing such a measure upon the members of that community, than from any other consideration. I have the pleasure of being credibly informed, that the manumission of slaves, or the employment of free men in the plantations, is now daily gaining ground in North America. Should slavery be abolished there, (and it is an event, which, from these circumstances, we may reasonably expect to be produced in time) let it be remembered, that the Quakers will have had the merit of its abolition. Nor have their brethren here been less assiduous in the cause. As there are happily no slaves in this country, so they have not had the same opportunity of shewing their benevolence by a general emancipation. They have not however omitted to shew it as far as they have been able. At their religious meetings they have regularly inquired if any of their members are concerned in the iniquitous _African_ trade. They have appointed a committee for obtaining every kind of information on the subject, with a view to its suppression, and, about three or four years ago, petitioned parliament on the occasion for their interference and support. I am sorry to add, that their benevolent application was ineffectual, and that the reformation of an evil, productive of consequences equally impolitick and immoral, and generally acknowledged to have long disgraced our national character, is yet left to the unsupported efforts of piety morality and justice, against interest violence and oppression; and these, I blush to acknowledge, too strongly countenanced by the legislative authority of a country, the basis of whose government is _liberty_. Nothing can be more clearly shewn, than that an inexhaustible mine of wealth is neglected in _Africa_, for prosecution of this impious traffick; that, if proper measures were taken, the revenue of this country might be greatly improved, its naval strength increased, its colonies in a more flourishing situation, the planters richer, and a trade, which is now a scene of blood and desolation, converted into one, which might be prosecuted with _advantage_ and _honour_. Such have been the exertions of the Quakers in the cause of humanity and virtue. They are still prosecuting, as far as they are able, their benevolent design; and I should stop here and praise them for thus continuing their humane endeavours, but that I conceive it to be unnecessary. They are acting consistently with the principles of religion. They will find a reward in their own consciences; and they will receive more real pleasure from a single reflection on their conduct, than they can possibly experience from the praises of an host of writers. In giving this short account of those humane and worthy persons, who have endeavoured to restore to their fellow creatures the rights of nature, of which they had been unjustly deprived, I would feel myself unjust, were I to omit two zealous opposers of the _colonial_ tyranny, conspicuous at the present day. The first is Mr. _Granville Sharp_. This Gentleman has particularly distinguished himself in the cause of freedom. It is a notorious fact, that, but a few years since, many of the unfortunate black people, who had been brought from the colonies into this country, were sold in the metropolis to merchants and others, when their masters had no farther occasion for their services; though it was always understood that every person was free, as soon as he landed on the British shore. In consequence of this notion, these unfortunate black people, refused to go to the new masters, to whom they were consigned. They were however seized, and forcibly conveyed, under cover of the night, to ships then lying in the _Thames_, to be retransported to the colonies, and to be delivered again to the planters as merchantable goods. The humane Mr. _Sharpe_, was the means of putting a stop to this iniquitous traffick. Whenever he gained information of people in such a situation, he caused them to be brought on shore. At a considerable expence he undertook their cause, and was instrumental in obtaining the famous decree in the case of _Somersett_, that as soon as any person whatever set his foot in this country, he came under the protection of the _British_ laws, and was consequently free. Nor did he interfere less honourably in that cruel and disgraceful case, in the summer of the year 1781, when _an hundred and thirty two_ negroes, in their passage to the colonies, were thrown into the sea alive, to defraud the underwriters; but his pious endeavours were by no means attended with the same success. To enumerate his many laudable endeavours in the extirpation of tyranny and oppression, would be to swell the preface into a volume: suffice it to say, that he has written several books on the subject, and one particularly, which he distinguishes by the title of "_A Limitation of Slavery_." The second is the _Rev. James Ramsay_. This gentleman resided for many years in the _West-Indies_, in the clerical office. He perused all the colonial codes of law, with a view to find if there were any favourable clauses, by which the grievances of slaves could be redressed; but he was severely disappointed in his pursuits. He published a treatise, since his return to England, called _An Essay on the Treatment and Conversion of African Slaves in the British Sugar Colonies_, which I recommend to the perusal of the humane reader. This work reflects great praise upon the author, since, in order to be of service to this singularly oppressed part of the human species, he compiled it at the expence of forfeiting that friendship, which he had contracted with many in those parts, during a series of years, and at the hazard, as I am credibly informed, of suffering much, in his private property, as well as of subjecting himself to the ill will and persecution of numerous individuals. This Essay _on the Treatment and Conversion of African Slaves_, contains so many important truths on the colonial slavery, and has come so home to the planters, (being written by a person who has a thorough knowledge of the subject) as to have occasioned a considerable alarm. Within the last eight months, two publications have expressly appeared against it. One of them is intitled "_Cursory Remarks_ on Mr. Ramsay's Essay;" the other an "_Apology for Negroe Slavery_." On each of these I am bound, as writing on the subject, to make a few remarks. The _cursory remarker_ insinuates, that Mr. Ramsay's account of the treatment is greatly exaggerated, if not wholly false. To this I shall make the following reply. I have the honour of knowing several disinterested gentlemen, who have been acquainted with the West Indian islands for years. I call them disinterested, because they have neither had a concern in the _African_ trade, nor in the _colonial_ slavery: and I have heard these unanimously assert, that Mr. _Ramsay's_ account is so far from being exaggerated, or taken from the most dreary pictures that he could find, that it is absolutely below the truth; that he must have omitted many instances of cruelty, which he had seen himself; and that they only wondered, how he could have written with so much moderation upon the subject. They allow the _Cursory Remarks_ to be excellent as a composition, but declare that it is perfectly devoid of truth. But the _cursory remarker_ does not depend so much on the circumstances which he has advanced, (nor can he, since they have no other existence than in his own, brain) as on the instrument _detraction_. This he has used with the utmost virulence through the whole of his publication, artfully supposing, that if he could bring Mr. _Ramsay's_ reputation into dispute, his work would fall of course, as of no authenticity. I submit this simple question to the reader. When a writer, in attempting to silence a publication, attacks the character of its author, rather than the principles of the work itself, is it not a proof that the work itself is unquestionable, and that this writer is at a loss to find an argument against it? But there is something so very ungenerous in this mode of replication, as to require farther notice. For if this is the mode to be adopted in literary disputes, what writer can be safe? Or who is there, that will not be deterred from taking up his pen in the cause of virtue? There are circumstances in every person's life, which, if given to the publick in a malevolent manner, and without explanation, might essentially injure him in the eyes of the world; though, were they explained, they would be even reputable. The _cursory remarker_ has adopted this method of dispute; but Mr. _Ramsay_ has explained himself to the satisfaction of all parties, and has refuted him in every point. The name of this _cursory remarker_ is _Tobin_: a name, which I feel myself obliged to hand down with detestation, as far as I am able; and with an hint to future writers, that they will do themselves more credit, and serve more effectually the cause which they undertake, if on such occasions they attack the work, rather than the character of the writer, who affords them a subject for their lucubrations. Nor is this the only circumstance, which induces me to take such particular notice of the _Cursory Remarks_. I feel it incumbent upon me to rescue an injured person from the cruel aspersions that have been thrown upon him, as I have been repeatedly informed by those, who have the pleasure of his acquaintance, that his character is irreproachable. I am also interested myself. For if such detraction is passed over in silence, my own reputation, and not my work, may be attacked by an anonymous hireling in the cause of slavery. The _Apology for Negroe Slavery_ is almost too despicable a composition to merit a reply. I have only therefore to observe, (as is frequently the case in a bad cause, or where writers do not confine themselves to truth) that the work refutes itself. This writer, speaking of the slave-trade, asserts, that people are never kidnapped on the coast of _Africa_. In speaking of the treatment of slaves, he asserts again, that it is of the very mildest nature, and that they live in the most comfortable and happy manner imaginable. To prove each of his assertions, he proposes the following regulations. That the _stealing_ of slaves from _Africa_ should be felony. That the _premeditated murder_ of a slave by any person on board, should come under the same denomination. That when slaves arrive in the colonies, lands should be allotted for their provisions, _in proportion to their number_, or commissioners should see that a _sufficient_ quantity of _sound wholesome_ provisions is purchased. That they should not work on _Sundays_ and _other_ holy-days. That extra labour, or _night-work, out of crop_, should be prohibited. That a _limited number_ of stripes should be inflicted upon them. That they should have _annually_ a suit of clothes. That old infirm slaves should be _properly cared for_, &c.--Now it can hardly be conceived, that if this author had tried to injure his cause, or contradict himself, he could not have done it in a more effectual manner, than by this proposal of these salutary regulations. For to say that slaves are honourably obtained on the coast; to say that their treatment is of the mildest nature, and yet to propose the above-mentioned regulations as necessary, is to refute himself more clearly, than I confess myself to be able to do it: and I have only to request, that the regulations proposed by this writer, in the defence of slavery, may be considered as so many proofs of the assertions contained in my own work. I shall close my account with an observation, which is of great importance in the present case. Of all the publications in favour of the slave-trade, or the subsequent slavery in the colonies, there is not one, which has not been written, either by a chaplain to the African factories, or by a merchant, or by a planter, or by a person whose interest has been connected in the cause which he has taken upon him to defend. Of this description are Mr. _Tobin_, and the _Apologist for Negroe Slavery_. While on the other hand those, who have had as competent a knowledge of the subject, but not the _same interest_ as themselves, have unanimously condemned it; and many of them have written their sentiments upon it, at the hazard of creating an innumerable host of enemies, and of being subjected to the most malignant opposition. Now, which of these are we to believe on the occasion? Are we to believe those, who are parties concerned, who are interested in the practice?--But the question does not admit of a dispute. Concerning my own work, it seems proper to observe, that when, the original Latin Dissertation, as the title page expresses, was honoured by the University of Cambridge with the first of their annual prizes for the year 1785, I was waited upon by some gentlemen of respectability and consequence, who requested me to publish it in English. The only objection which occurred to me was this; that having been prevented, by an attention to other studies, from obtaining that critical knowledge of my own language, which was necessary for an English composition, I was fearful of appearing before the publick eye: but that, as they flattered me with the hope, that the publication of it might be of use, I would certainly engage to publish it, if they would allow me to postpone it for a little time, till I was more in the habit of writing. They replied, that as the publick attention was now excited to the case of the unfortunate _Africans_, it would be serving the cause with double the effect, if it were to be published within a few months. This argument prevailed. Nothing but this circumstance could have induced me to offer an English composition to the inspection of an host of criticks: and I trust therefore that this circumstance will plead much with the benevolent reader, in favour of those faults, which he may find in the present work. Having thus promised to publish it, I was for some time doubtful from which of the copies to translate. There were two, the original, and an abridgement. The latter (as these academical compositions are generally of a certain length) was that which was sent down to Cambridge, and honoured with the prize. I was determined however, upon consulting with my friends, to translate from the former. This has been faithfully done with but few[003] additions. The reader will probably perceive the Latin idiom in several passages of the work, though I have endeavoured, as far as I have been able, to avoid it. And I am so sensible of the disadvantages under which it must yet lie, as a translation, that I wish I had written upon the subject, without any reference at all to the original copy. It will perhaps be asked, from what authority I have collected those facts, which relate to the colonial slavery. I reply, that I have had the means of the very best of information on the subject; having the pleasure of being acquainted with many, both in the naval and military departments, as well as with several others, who have been long acquainted with _America_ and the _West-Indian_ islands. The facts therefore which I have related, are compiled from the disinterested accounts of these gentlemen, all of whom, I have the happiness to say, have coincided, in the minutest manner, in their descriptions. It mud be remarked too, that they were compiled, not from what these gentlemen heard, while they were resident in those parts, but from what they actually _saw_. Nor has a single instance been taken from any book whatever upon the subject, except that which is mentioned in the 235th page; and this book was published in _France_, in the year 1777, by _authority_. I have now the pleasure to say, that the accounts of these disinterested gentlemen, whom I consulted on the occasion, are confirmed by all the books which I have ever perused upon slavery, except those which have been written by _merchants, planters, &c_. They are confirmed by Sir _Hans Sloane's_ Voyage to Barbadoes; _Griffith Hughes's_ History of the same island, printed 1750; an Account of North America, by _Thomas Jeffries_, 1761; all _Benezet's_ works, &c. &c. and particularly by Mr. _Ramsay's_ Essay on the Treatment and Conversion of the African Slaves in the British Sugar Colonies; a work which is now firmly established; and, I may add in a very extraordinary manner, in consequence of the controversy which this gentleman has sustained with the _Cursory Remarker_, by which several facts which were mentioned in the original copy of my own work, before the controversy began, and which had never appeared in any work upon the subject, have been brought to light. Nor has it received less support from a letter, published only last week, from Capt. J.S. Smith, of the Royal Navy, to the Rev. Mr. Hill; on the former of whom too high encomiums cannot be bestowed, for standing forth in that noble and disinterested manner, in behalf of an injured character. I have now only to solicit the reader again, that he will make a favourable allowance for the present work, not only from those circumstances which I have mentioned, but from the consideration, that only two months are allowed by the University for these their annual compositions. Should he however be unpropitious to my request, I must console myself with the reflection, (a reflection that will always afford me pleasure, even amidst the censures of the great,) that by undertaking the cause of the unfortunate _Africans_, I have undertaken, as far as my abilities would permit, the cause of injured innocence. London, June 1st 1786. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 001: A Description of Guinea, with an Inquiry into the Rise and Progress of the Slave Trade, &c.--A Caution to Great Britain and her Colonies, in a short Representation of the calamitous State of the enslaved Negroes in the British Dominions. Besides several smaller pieces.] [Footnote 002: They had censured the _African Trade_ in the year 1727, but had taken no publick notice of the _colonial_ slavery till this time.] [Footnote 003: The instance of the _Dutch_ colonists at the Cape, in the first part of the Essay; the description of an African battle, in the second; and the poetry of a negroe girl in the third, are the only considerable additions that have been made.] * * * * * CONTENTS. * * * * * PART I. The History of Slavery. CHAP. I. Introduction.--Division of slavery into voluntary and involuntary.--The latter the subject of the present work.--Chap. II. The first class of involuntary slaves among the ancients, from war.--Conjecture concerning their antiquity.--Chap. III. The second class from piracy.--Short history of piracy.--The dance carpoea.--Considerations from hence on the former topick.--Three orders of involuntary slaves among the ancients.--Chap. IV. Their personal treatment.--Exception in �gypt.--Exception at Athens.--Chap. V. The causes of such treatment among the ancients in general.--Additional causes among the Greeks and Romans.--A refutation of their principles.--Remarks on the writings of �sop.--Chap. VI. The ancient slave-trade.--Its antiquity.--�gypt the first market recorded for this species of traffick.--Cyprus the second.--The agreement of the writings of Moses and Homer on the subject.--The universal prevalence of the trade.--Chap. VII. The decline of this commerce and slavery in Europe.--The causes of their decline.--Chap. VIII. Their revival in Africa.--Short history of their revival.--Five classes of involuntary slaves among the moderns.--Cruel instance of the Dutch colonists at the Cape. * * * * * PART II. The African Commerce or Slave-Trade. CHAP. I. The history of mankind from their first situation to a state of government.--Chap. II. An account of the first governments.--Chap. III. Liberty a natural right.--That of government adventitious.--Government, its nature.--Its end.--Chap. IV. Mankind cannot be considered as property.--An objection answered.--Chap. V. Division of the commerce into two parts, as it relates to those who sell, and those who purchase the human species into slavery.--The right of the sellers examined with respect to the two orders of African slaves, "of those who are publickly seized by virtue of the authority of their prince, and of those, who are kidnapped by individuals."--Chap. VI. Their right with respect to convicts.--From the proportion of the punishment to the offence.--From its object and end.--Chap. VII. Their right with respect to prisoners of war.--The jus captivitatis, or right of capture explained.--Its injustice.--Farther explication of the right of capture, in answer to some supposed objections.--Chap. VIII. Additional remarks on the two orders that were first mentioned.--The number which they annually contain.--A description of an African battle.--Additional remarks on prisoners of war.--On convicts.--Chap. IX. The right of the purchasers examined.--Conclusion. * * * * * PART III. The Slavery of the Africans in the European Colonies. CHAP. I. Imaginary scene in Africa.--Imaginary conversation with an African.--His ideas of Christianity.--A Description of a body of slaves going to the ships.--Their embarkation.--Chap. II. Their treatment on board.--The number that annually perish in the voyage.--Horrid instance at sea.--Their debarkation in the colonies.--Horrid instance on the shore.--Chap. III. The condition of their posterity in the colonies.--The lex nativitatis explained.--Its injustice.--Chap. IV. The seasoning in the colonies.--The number that annually die in the seasoning.--The employment of the survivors.--The colonial discipline.--Its tendency to produce cruelty.--Horrid instance of this effect.--Immoderate labour, and its consequences.--Want of food and its consequences.--Severity and its consequences.--The forlorn situation of slaves.--An appeal to the memory of Alfred.--Chap. V. The contents of the two preceding chapters denied by the purchasers.--Their first argument refuted.--Their second refuted.--Their third refuted.--Chap. VI. Three arguments, which they bring in vindication of their treatment, refuted.--Chap. VII. The argument, that the Africans are an inferiour link of the chain of nature, as far as it relates to their genius, refuted.--The causes of this apparent inferiority.--Short dissertation on African genius.--Poetry of an African girl.--Chap. VIII. The argument, that they are an inferiour link of the chain of nature, as far as it relates to colour, &c. refuted.--Examination of the divine writings in this particular.--Dissertation on the colour.--Chap. IX. Other arguments of the purchasers examined.--Their comparisons unjust.--Their assertions, with respect to the happy situation of the Africans in the colonies, without foundation.--Their happiness examined with respect to manumission.--With respect to holy-days.--Dances, &c.--An estimate made at St. Domingo.--Chap. X. The right of the purchasers over their slaves refuted upon their own principles.--Chap. XI. Dreadful arguments against this commerce and slavery of the human species.--How the Deity seems already to punish us for this inhuman violation of his laws.--Conclusion. * * * * * ERRATA. For _Dominique_, (Footnote 107) read _Domingue_. N. B. In page 18 a Latin note has been inserted by mistake, under the quotation of Diodorus Siculus. The reader will find the original Greek of the same signification, in the same author, at page 49. Editio Stephani. * * * * * AN ESSAY ON THE SLAVERY and COMMERCE OF THE HUMAN SPECIES. IN THREE PARTS. * * * * * PART I. THE HISTORY OF SLAVERY. * * * * * CHAP. I. When civilized, as well as barbarous nations, have been found, through a long succession of ages, uniformly to concur in the same customs, there seems to arise a presumption, that such customs are not only eminently useful, but are founded also on the principles of justice. Such is the case with respect to _Slavery_: it has had the concurrence of all the nations, which history has recorded, and the repeated practice of ages from the remotest antiquity, in its favour. Here then is an argument, deduced from the general consent and agreement of mankind, in favour of the proposed subject: but alas! when we reflect that the people, thus reduced to a state of servitude, have had the same feelings with ourselves; when we reflect that they have had the same propensities to pleasure, and the same aversions from pain; another argument seems immediately to arise in opposition to the former, deduced from our own feelings and that divine sympathy, which nature has implanted in our breasts, for the most useful and generous of purposes. To ascertain the truth therefore, where two such opposite sources of argument occur; where the force of custom pleads strongly on the one hand, and the feelings of humanity on the other; is a matter of much importance, as the dignity of human nature is concerned, and the rights and liberties of mankind will be involved in its discussion. It will be necessary, before this point can be determined, to consult the History of Slavery, and to lay before the reader, in as concise a manner as possible, a general view of it from its earliest appearance to the present day. The first, whom we shall mention here to have been reduced to a state of servitude, may be comprehended in that class, which is usually denominated the _Mercenary_. It consisted of free-born citizens, who, from the various contingencies of fortune, had become so poor, as to have recourse for their support to the service of the rich. Of this kind were those, both among the Egyptians and the Jews, who are recorded in the sacred writings.[004] The Grecian _Thetes_[005] also were of this description, as well as those among the Romans, from whom the class receives its appellation, the [006]_Mercenarii_. We may observe of the above-mentioned, that their situation was in many instances similar to that of our own servants. There was an express contract between the parties; they could, most of them, demand their discharge, if they were ill used by their respective masters; and they were treated therefore with more humanity than those, whom we usually distinguish in our language by the appellation of _Slaves_. As this class of servants was composed of men, who had been reduced to such a situation by the contingencies of fortune, and not by their own misconduct; so there was another among the ancients, composed entirely of those, who had suffered the loss of liberty from their own imprudence. To this class may be reduced the Grecian _Prodigals_, who were detained in the service of their creditors, till the fruits of their labour were equivalent to their debts; the _delinquents_, who were sentenced to the oar; and the German _enthusiasts_, as mentioned by Tacitus, who were so immoderately charmed with gaming, as, when every thing else was gone, to have staked their liberty and their very selves. "The loser," says he, "goes into a voluntary servitude, and though younger and stronger than the person with whom he played, patiently suffers himself to be bound and sold. Their perseverance in so bad a custom is stiled honour. The slaves, thus obtained, are immediately exchanged away in commerce, that the winner may get rid of the scandal of his victory." To enumerate other instances, would be unnecessary; it will be sufficient to observe, that the servants of this class were in a far more wretched situation, than those of the former; their drudgery was more intense; their treatment more severe; and there was no retreat at pleasure, from the frowns and lashes of their despotick masters. Having premised this, we may now proceed to a general division of slavery, into _voluntary_ and _involuntary_. The _voluntary_ will comprehend the two classes, which we have already mentioned; for, in the first instance, there was a _contract_, founded on _consent_; and, in the second, there was a _choice_ of engaging or not in those practices, the known consequences of which were servitude. The _involuntary_; on the other hand, will comprehend those, who were forced, without any such _condition_ or _choice_, into a situation, which as it tended to degrade a part of the human species, and to class it with the brutal, must have been, of all human situations, the most wretched and insupportable. These are they, whom we shall consider solely in the present work. We shall therefore take our leave of the former, as they were mentioned only, that we might state the question with greater accuracy, and, be the better enabled to reduce it to its proper limits. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 004: Genesis, Ch. 47. Leviticus XXV. v. 39, 40.] [Footnote 005: The _Thetes_ appear very early in the Grecian History.--kai tines auto kouroi epont'Ithakes exairetoi; he eoi autou thentes te Dmoes(?) te; Od. Homer. D. 642. They were afterwards so much in use that, "Murioi depou apedidonto eautous ose douleuein kata sungraphen," till Solon suppressed the custom in Athens.] [Footnote 006: The mention of these is frequent among the classics; they were called in general _mercenarii_, from the circumstances of their _hire_, as "quibus, non malè præcipiunt, qui ita jubent uti, ut _mercenariis_, operam exigendam, justa proebenda. Cicero de off." But they are sometimes mentioned in the law books by the name of _liberi_, from the circumstances of their _birth_, to distinguish them from the _alieni_, or foreigners, as Justinian. D. 7. 8. 4. --Id. 21. 1. 25. &c. &c. &c.] * * * * * CHAP. II. The first that will be mentioned, of the _involuntary_, were _prisoners of war_.[007] "It was a law, established from time immemorial among the nations of antiquity, to oblige those to undergo the severities of servitude, whom victory had thrown into their hands." Conformably with this, we find all the Eastern nations unanimous in the practice. The same custom prevailed among the people of the West; for as the Helots became the slaves of the Spartans, from the right of conquest only, so prisoners of war were reduced to the same situation by the rest of the inhabitants of Greece. By the same principles that actuated these, were the Romans also influenced. Their History will confirm the fact: for how many cities are recorded to have been taken; how many armies to have been vanquished in the field, and the wretched survivors, in both instances, to have been doomed to servitude? It remains only now to observe, in shewing this custom to have been universal, that all those nations which assisted in overturning the Roman Empire, though many and various, adopted the same measures; for we find it a general maxim in their polity, that whoever should fall into their hands as a prisoner of war, should immediately be reduced to the condition of a slave. It may here, perhaps, be not unworthy of remark, that the _involuntary_ were of greater antiquity than the _voluntary_ slaves. The latter are first mentioned in the time of Pharaoh: they could have arisen only in a state of society; when property, after its division, had become so unequal, as to multiply the wants of individuals; and when government, after its establishment, had given security to the possessor by the punishment of crimes. Whereas the former seem to be dated with more propriety from the days of Nimrod; who gave rise probably to that inseparable idea of _victory_ and _servitude_, which we find among the nations of antiquity, and which has existed uniformly since, in one country or another, to the present day.[008] Add to this, that they might have arisen even in a state of nature, and have been coequal with the quarrels of mankind. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 007: "Nomos en pasin anthropois aidios esin, otan polemounton polis alo, ton elonton einai kai ta somata ton en te poleis, kai ta chremata." Xenoph. Kyrou Paid. L. 7. fin.] [Footnote 008: "Proud Nimrod first the bloody chace began, A mighty hunter, and his prey was man." --POPE.] * * * * * CHAP. III. But it was not victory alone, or any presupposed right, founded in the damages of war, that afforded a pretence for invading the liberties of mankind: the honourable light, in which _piracy_ was considered in the uncivilized ages of the world, contributed not a little to the _slavery_ of the human species. Piracy had a very early beginning. "The Grecians,"[009] says Thucydides, "in their primitive state, as well as the contemporary barbarians, who inhabited the sea coasts and islands, gave themselves wholly to it; it was, in short, their only profession and support." The writings of Homer are sufficient of themselves to establish this account. They shew it to have been a common practice at so early a period as that of the Trojan war; and abound with many lively descriptions of it; which, had they been as groundless as they are beautiful, would have frequently spared the sigh of the reader of sensibility and reflection. The piracies, which were thus practised in the early ages, may be considered as _publick_ or _private_. In the former, whole crews embarked for the benefit[010] of their respective tribes. They made descents on the sea coasts, carried off cattle, surprized whole villages, put many of the inhabitants to the sword, and carried others into slavery. In the latter, individuals only were concerned, and the emolument was their own. These landed from their ships, and, going up into the country, concealed themselves in the woods and thickets; where they waited every opportunity of catching the unfortunate shepherd or husbandman alone. In this situation they sallied out upon him, dragged him on board, conveyed him to a foreign market, and sold him for a slave. To this kind of piracy Ulysses alludes, in opposition to the former, which he had been just before mentioning, in his question to Eumoeus. "Did pirates wait, till all thy friends were gone, To catch thee singly with thy flocks alone; Say, did they force thee from thy fleecy care, And from thy fields transport and sell thee here?"[011] But no picture, perhaps, of this mode of depredation, is equal to that, with which[012] Xenophon presents us in the simple narrative of a dance. He informs us that the Grecian army had concluded a peace with the Paphlagonians, and that they entertained their embassadors in consequence with a banquet, and the exhibition of various feats of activity. "When the Thracians," says he, "had performed the parts allotted them in this entertainment, some Aenianian and Magnetian soldiers rose up, and, accoutred in their proper arms, exhibited that dance, which is called _Karpoea_. The figure of it is thus. One of them, in the character of an husbandman, is seen to till his land, and is observed, as he drives his plough, to look frequently behind him, as if apprehensive of danger. Another immediately appears in fight, in the character of a robber. The husbandman, having seen him previously advancing, snatches up his arms. A battle ensues before the plough. The whole of this performance is kept in perfect time with the musick of the flute. At length the robber, having got the better of the husbandman, binds him, and drives him off with his team. Sometimes it happens that the husbandman subdues the robber: in this case the scene is only reversed, as the latter is then bound and driven, off by the former." It is scarcely necessary to observe, that this dance was a representation of the general manners of men, in the more uncivilized ages of the world; shewing that the husbandman and shepherd lived in continual alarm, and that there were people in those ages, who derived their pleasures and fortunes from _kidnapping_ and _enslaving_ their fellow creatures. We may now take notice of a circumstance in this narration, which will lead us to a review of our first assertion on this point, "that the honourable light, in which _piracy_ was considered in the times of barbarism, contributed not a little to the _slavery_ of the human species." The robber is represented here as frequently defeated in his attempts, and as reduced to that deplorable situation, to which he was endeavouring to bring another. This shews the frequent difficulty and danger of his undertakings: people would not tamely resign their lives or liberties, without a struggle. They were sometimes prepared; were superior often, in many points of view, to these invaders of their liberty; there were an hundred accidental circumstances frequently in their favour. These adventures therefore required all the skill, strength, agility, valour, and every thing, in short, that may be supposed to constitute heroism, to conduct them with success. Upon this idea piratical expeditions first came into repute, and their frequency afterwards, together with the danger and fortitude, that were inseparably connected with them, brought them into such credit among the barbarous nations of antiquity, that of all human professions, piracy was the most honourable.[013] The notions then, which were thus annexed to piratical expeditions, did not fail to produce those consequences, which we have mentioned before. They afforded an opportunity to the views of avarice and ambition, to conceal themselves under the mask of virtue. They excited a spirit of enterprize, of all others the most irresistible, as it subsisted on the strongest principles of action, emolument and honour. Thus could the vilest of passions be gratified with impunity. People were robbed, stolen, murdered, under the pretended idea that these were reputable adventures: every enormity in short was committed, and dressed up in the habiliments of honour. But as the notions of men in the less barbarous ages, which followed, became more corrected and refined, the practice of piracy began gradually to disappear. It had hitherto been supported on the grand columns of _emolument_ and _honour_. When the latter therefore was removed, it received a considerable shock; but, alas! it had still a pillar for its support! _avarice_, which exists in all states, and which is ready to turn every invention to its own ends, strained hard for its preservation. It had been produced in the ages of barbarism; it had been pointed out in those ages as lucrative, and under this notion it was continued. People were still stolen; many were intercepted (some, in their pursuits of pleasure, others, in the discharge of their several occupations) by their own countrymen; who previously laid in wait for them, and sold them afterwards for slaves; while others seized by merchants, who traded on the different coasts, were torn from their friends and connections, and carried into slavery. The merchants of Thessaly, if we can credit Aristophanes[014] who never spared the vices of the times, were particularly infamous for the latter kind of depredation; the Athenians were notorious for the former; for they had practised these robberies to such an alarming degree of danger to individuals, that it was found necessary to enact a law[015], which punished kidnappers with death.--But this is sufficient for our present purpose; it will enable us to assert, that there were two classes of _involuntary_ slaves among the ancients, "of those who were taken publickly in a state of war, and of those who were privately stolen in a state of innocence and peace." We may now add, that the children and descendents of these composed a third. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 009: Thucydides. L. 1. sub initio.] [Footnote 010: Idem.--"the strongest," says he, "engaging in these adventures, Kerdous tou spheterou auton eneka kai tois asthenesi trophes."] [Footnote 011: Homer. Odyss. L. 15. 385.] [Footnote 012: Xenoph. Kyrou Anab. L. 6. sub initio.] [Footnote 013: ouk echontos po Aischynen toutou tou ergou pherontos de ti kai Doxes mallon. Thucydides, L. 1. sub initio. kai euklees touto oi Kilikes enomizon. Sextus Empiricus. ouk adoxon all'endoxon touto. Schol. &c. &c.] [Footnote 014: Aristoph. Plut. Act. 2. Scene 5.] [Footnote 015: Zenoph. Apomnemon, L. 1.] * * * * * CHAP. IV. It will be proper to say something here concerning the situation of the unfortunate men, who were thus doomed to a life of servitude. To enumerate their various employments, and to describe the miseries which they endured in consequence, either from the severity, or the long and constant application of their labour, would exceed the bounds we have proposed to the present work. We shall confine ourselves to their _personal treatment_, as depending on the power of their masters, and the protection of the law. Their treatment, if considered in this light, will equally excite our pity and abhorrence. They were beaten, starved, tortured, murdered at discretion: they were dead in a civil sense; they had neither name nor tribe; were incapable of a judicial process; were in short without appeal. Poor unfortunate men! to be deprived of all possible protection! to suffer the bitterest of injuries without the possibility of redress! to be condemned unheard! to be murdered with impunity! to be considered as dead in that state, the very members of which they were supporting by their labours! Yet such was their general situation: there were two places however, where their condition, if considered in this point of view, was more tolerable. The �gyptian slave, though perhaps of all others the greatest drudge, yet if he had time to reach the temple[016] of Hercules, found a certain retreat from the persecution of his master; and he received additional comfort from the reflection, that his life, whether he could reach it or not, could not be taken with impunity. Wise and salutary law![017] how often must it have curbed the insolence of power, and stopped those passions in their progress, which had otherwise been destructive to the slave! But though the persons of slaves were thus greatly secured in �gypt, yet there was no place so favourable to them as Athens. They were allowed a greater liberty of speech;[018] they had their convivial meetings, their amours, their hours of relaxation, pleasantry, and mirth; they were treated, in short, with so much humanity in general, as to occasion that observation of Demosthenes, in his second Philippick, "that the condition of a slave, at Athens, was preferable to that of a free citizen, in many other countries." But if any exception happened (which was sometimes the case) from the general treatment described; if persecution took the place of lenity, and made the fangs of servitude more pointed than before,[019] they had then their temple, like the �gyptian, for refuge; where the legislature was so attentive, as to examine their complaints, and to order them, if they were founded in justice, to be sold to another master. Nor was this all: they had a privilege infinitely greater than the whole of these. They were allowed an opportunity of working for themselves, and if their diligence had procured them a sum equivalent with their ransom, they could immediately, on paying it down,[020] demand their freedom for ever. This law was, of all others, the most important; as the prospect of liberty, which it afforded, must have been a continual source of the most pleasing reflections, and have greatly sweetened the draught, even of the most bitter slavery. Thus then, to the eternal honour of �gypt and Athens, they were the only places that we can find, where slaves were considered with any humanity at all. The rest of the world seemed to vie with each other, in the debasement and oppression of these unfortunate people. They used them with as much severity as they chose; they measured their treatment only by their own passion and caprice; and, by leaving them on every occasion, without the possibility of an appeal, they rendered their situation the most melancholy and intolerable, that can possibly be conceived. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 016: Herodotus. L. 2. 113.] [Footnote 017: "Apud �gyptios, si quis servum sponte occiderat, eum morte damnari æque ac si liberum occidisset, jubebant leges &c." Diodorus Sic. L. 1.] [Footnote 018: "Atq id ne vos miremini, Homines servulos Potare, amare, atq ad coenam condicere. Licet hoc Athenis. Plautus. Sticho." ] [Footnote 019: "Be me kratison esin eis to Theseion Dramein, ekei d'eos an eurombou prasin menein" Aristoph. Horæ. Kaka toiade paskousin oude prasin Aitousin. Eupolis. poleis.] [Footnote 020: To this privilege Plautus alludes in his _Casina_, where he introduces a slave, speaking in the following manner. "Quid tu me verò libertate territas? Quod si tu nolis, siliusque etiam tuus Vobis _invitis_, atq amborum _ingratiis_, _Una libella liber possum fieri_." ] * * * * * CHAP. V. As we have mentioned the barbarous and inhuman treatment that generally fell to the lot of slaves, it may not be amiss to inquire into the various circumstances by which it was produced. The first circumstance, from whence it originated, was the _commerce_: for if men could be considered as _possessions_; if, like _cattle_, they could be _bought_ and _sold_, it will not be difficult to suppose, that they could be held in the same consideration, or treated in the same manner. The commerce therefore, which was begun in the primitive ages of the world, by classing them with the brutal species, and by habituating the mind to consider the terms of _brute_ and _slave_ as _synonimous_, soon caused them to be viewed in a low and despicable light, and as greatly inferiour to the human species. Hence proceeded that treatment, which might not unreasonably be supposed to arise from so low an estimation. They were tamed, like beasts, by the stings of hunger and the lash, and their education was directed to the same end, to make them commodious instruments of labour for their possessors. This _treatment_, which thus proceeded in the ages of barbarism, from the low estimation, in which slaves were unfortunately held from the circumstances of the commerce, did not fail of producing, in the same instant, its _own_ effect. It depressed their minds; it numbed their faculties; and, by preventing those sparks of genius from blazing forth, which had otherwise been conspicuous; it gave them the appearance of being endued with inferiour capacities than the rest of mankind. This effect of the _treatment_ had made so considerable a progress, as to have been a matter of observation in the days of Homer. For half _his_ senses Jove conveys away, _Whom_ once he dooms to see the _servile_ day.[021] Thus then did the _commerce_, by classing them originally with _brutes_, and the consequent _treatment_, by cramping their _abilities_, and hindering them from becoming _conspicuous_, give to these unfortunate people, at a very early period, the most unfavourable _appearance_. The rising generations, who received both the commerce and treatment from their ancestors, and who had always been accustomed to behold their _effects_, did not consider these _effects_ as _incidental_: they judged only from what they saw; they believed the _appearances_ to be _real_; and hence arose the combined principle, that slaves were an _inferiour_ order of men, and perfectly void of _understanding_. Upon this _principle_ it was, that the former treatment began to be fully confirmed and established; and as this _principle_ was handed down and disseminated, so it became, in succeeding ages, an _excuse_ for any severity, that despotism might suggest. We may observe here, that as all nations had this excuse in common, as arising from the _circumstances_ above-mentioned, so the Greeks first, and the Romans afterwards, had an _additional excuse_, as arising from their own _vanity_. The former having conquered Troy, and having united themselves under one common name and interest, began, from that period, to distinguish the rest of the world by the title of _barbarians_; inferring by such an appellation, "that they were men who were only noble in their own country; that they had no right, from their _nature_, to authority or command; that, on the contrary, so low were their capacities, they were _destined_ by nature _to obey_, and to live in a state of perpetual drudgery and subjugation."[022] Conformable with this opinion was the treatment, which was accordingly prescribed to a _barbarian_. The philosopher Aristotle himself, in the advice which he gave to his pupil Alexander, before he went upon his Asiatick expedition, intreated him to "use the Greeks, as it became a _general_, but the _barbarians_, as it became a _master_; consider, says he, the former as _friends_ and _domesticks_; but the latter, as _brutes_ and _plants_;"[023] inferring that the Greeks, from the superiority of their capacities, had a _natural_ right to dominion, and that the rest of the world, from the inferiority of their own, were to be considered and treated as the _irrational_ part of the creation. Now, if we consider that this was the treatment, which they judged to be absolutely proper for people of this description, and that their slaves were uniformly those, whom they termed _barbarians_; being generally such, as were either kidnapped from _Barbary_, or purchased from the _barbarian_ conquerors in their wars with one another; we shall immediately see, with what an additional excuse their own vanity had furnished them for the sallies of caprice and passion. To refute these cruel sentiments of the ancients, and to shew that their slaves were by no means an inferiour order of beings than themselves, may perhaps be considered as an unnecessary task; particularly, as having shewn, that the causes of this inferiour appearance were _incidental_, arising, on the one hand, from the combined effects of the _treatment_ and _commerce_, and, on the other, from _vanity_ and _pride_, we seem to have refuted them already. But we trust that some few observations, in vindication of these unfortunate people, will neither be unacceptable nor improper. How then shall we begin the refutation? Shall we say with Seneca, who saw many of the slaves in question, "What is a _knight_, or a _libertine_, or a _slave_? Are they not names, assumed either from _injury_ or _ambition_?" Or, shall we say with him on another occasion, "Let us consider that he, whom we call our slave, is born in the same manner as ourselves; that he enjoys the same sky, with all its heavenly luminaries; that he breathes, that he lives, in the same manner as ourselves, and, in the same manner, that he expires." These considerations, we confess, would furnish us with a plentiful source of arguments in the case before us; but we decline their assistance. How then shall we begin? Shall we enumerate the many instances of fidelity, patience, or valour, that are recorded of the _servile_ race? Shall we enumerate the many important services, that they rendered both to the individuals and the community, under whom they lived? Here would be a second source, from whence we could collect sufficient materials to shew, that there was no inferiority in their nature. But we decline to use them. We shall content ourselves with some few instances, that relate to the _genius_ only: we shall mention the names of those of a _servile_ condition, whose writings, having escaped the wreck of time, and having been handed down even to the present age, are now to be seen, as so many living monuments, that neither the Grecian, nor Roman genius, was superiour to their own. The first, whom we shall mention here, is the famous �sop. He was a Phrygian by birth, and lived in the time of Croesus, king of Lydia, to whom he dedicated his fables. The writings of this great man, in whatever light we consider them, will be equally entitled to our admiration. But we are well aware, that the very mention of him as a writer of fables, may depreciate him in the eyes of some. To such we shall propose a question, "Whether this species of writing has not been more beneficial to mankind; or whether it has not produced more important events, than any other?" With respect to the first consideration, it is evident that these fables, as consisting of plain and simple transactions, are particularly easy to be understood; as conveyed in images, they please and seduce the mind; and, as containing a _moral_, easily deducible on the side of virtue; that they afford, at the same time, the most weighty precepts of philosophy. Here then are the two grand points of composition, "a manner of expression to be apprehended by the lowest capacities, and, (what is considered as a victory in the art) an happy conjunction of utility and pleasure."[024] Hence Quintilian recommends them, as singularly useful, and as admirably adapted, to the puerile age; as a just gradation between the language of the nurse and the preceptor, and as furnishing maxims of prudence and virtue, at a time when the speculative principles of philosophy are too difficult to be understood. Hence also having been introduced by most civilized nations into their system of education, they have produced that general benefit, to which we at first alluded. Nor have they been of less consequence in maturity; but particularly to those of inferiour capacities, or little erudition, whom they have frequently served as a guide to conduct them in life, and as a medium, through which an explanation might be made, on many and important occasions. With respect to the latter consideration, which is easily deducible from hence, we shall only appeal to the wonderful effect, which the fable, pronounced by Demosthenes against Philip of Macedon, produced among his hearers; or to the fable, which was spoken by Menenius Agrippa to the Roman populace; by which an illiterate multitude were brought back to their duty as citizens, when no other species of oratory could prevail. To these truly _ingenious_, and _philosophical_ works of �sop, we shall add those of his imitator Phoedrus, which in purity and elegance of style, are inferiour to none. We shall add also the Lyrick _Poetry_ of Alcman, which is no _servile_ composition; the sublime _Morals_ of Epictetus, and the incomparable _comedies_ of Terence. Thus then does it appear, that the _excuse_ which was uniformly started in defence of the _treatment_ of slaves, had no foundation whatever either in truth or justice. The instances that we have mentioned above, are sufficient to shew, that there was no inferiority, either in their _nature_, or their understandings: and at the same time that they refute the principles of the ancients, they afford a valuable lesson to those, who have been accustomed to form too precipitate a judgment on the abilities of men: for, alas! how often has _secret anguish_ depressed the spirits of those, whom they have frequently censured, from their gloomy and dejected appearance! and how often, on the other hand, has their judgment resulted from their own _vanity_ and _pride_! * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 021: Homer. Odys. P. 322. In the latest edition of Homer, the word, which we have translated _senses_, is _Aretae_, or _virtue_, but the old and proper reading is _Noos_, as appears from Plato de Legibus, ch. 6, where he quotes it on a similar occasion.] [Footnote 022: Aristotle. Polit. Ch. 2. et inseq.] [Footnote 023: Ellesin hegemonikos, tois de Barbarois despotikos krasthar kai ton men os philon kai oikeion epimeleisthai, tois de os zoois he phytois prospheresthai. Plutarch. de Fortun. Alexand. Orat. 1.] [Footnote 024: Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci. Horace.] * * * * * CHAP. VI. We proceed now to the consideration of the _commerce_: in consequence of which, people, endued with the same feelings and faculties as ourselves, were made subject to the laws and limitations of _possession_. This commerce of the human species was of a very early date. It was founded on the idea that men were _property_; and, as this idea was coeval with the first order of _involuntary_ slaves, it must have arisen, (if the date, which we previously affixed to that order, be right) in the first practices of barter. The Story of Joseph, as recorded in the sacred writings, whom his brothers sold from an envious suspicion of his future greatness, is an ample testimony of the truth of this conjecture. It shews that there were men, even at that early period, who travelled up and down as merchants, collecting not only balm, myrrh, spicery, and other wares, but the human species also, for the purposes of traffick. The instant determination of the brothers, on the first sight of the merchants, _to sell him_, and the immediate acquiescence of these, who purchased him for a foreign market, prove that this commerce had been then established, not only in that part of the country, where this transaction happened, but in that also, whither the merchants were then travelling with their camels, namely, �gypt: and they shew farther, that, as all customs require time for their establishment, so it must have existed in the ages, previous to that of Pharaoh; that is, in those ages, in which we fixed the first date of _involuntary_ servitude. This commerce then, as appears by the present instance, existed in the earliest practices of barter, and had descended to the �gyptians, through as long a period of time, as was sufficient to have made it, in the times alluded to, an established custom. Thus was �gypt, in those days, the place of the greatest resort; the grand emporium of trade, to which people were driving their merchandize, as to a centre; and thus did it afford, among other opportunities of traffick, the _first market_ that is recorded, for the sale of the human species. This market, which was thus supplied by the constant concourse of merchants, who resorted to it from various parts, could not fail, by these means, to have been considerable. It received, afterwards, an additional supply from those piracies, which we mentioned to have existed in the uncivilized ages of the world, and which, in fact, it greatly promoted and encouraged; and it became, from these united circumstances, so famous, as to have been known, within a few centuries from the time of Pharaoh, both to the Grecian colonies in Asia, and the Grecian islands. Homer mentions Cyprus and �gypt as the common markets for slaves, about the times of the Trojan war. Thus Antinous, offended with Ulysses, threatens to send him to one of these places, if he does not instantly depart from his table.[025] The same poet also, in his hymn to Bacchus[026], mentions them again, but in a more unequivocal manner, as the common markets for slaves. He takes occasion, in that hymn, to describe the pirates method of scouring the coast, from the circumstance of their having kidnapped Bacchus, as a noble youth, for whom they expected an immense ransom. The captain of the vessel, having dragged him on board, is represented as addressing himself thus, to the steersman: "Haul in the tackle, hoist aloft the sail, Then take your helm, and watch the doubtful gale! To mind the captive prey, be our's the care, While you to _�gypt_ or to _Cyprus_ steer; There shall he go, unless his friends he'll tell, Whose ransom-gifts will pay us full as well." It may not perhaps be considered as a digression, to mention in few words, by itself, the wonderful concordance of the writings of Moses and Homer with the case before us: not that the former, from their divine authority, want additional support, but because it cannot be unpleasant to see them confirmed by a person, who, being one of the earliest writers, and living in a very remote age, was the first that could afford us any additional proof of the circumstances above-mentioned. �gypt is represented, in the first book of the sacred writings, as a market for slaves, and, in the [027]second, as famous for the severity of its servitude. [028]The same line, which we have already cited from Homer, conveys to us the same ideas. It points it out as a market for the human species, and by the epithet of "_bitter_ �gypt," ([029]which epithet is peculiarly annexed to it on this occasion) alludes in the strongest manner to that severity and rigour, of which the sacred historian transmitted us the first account. But, to return. Though �gypt was the first market recorded for this species of traffick; and though �gypt, and Cyprus afterwards, were particularly distinguished for it, in the times of the Trojan war; yet they were not the only places, even at that period, where men were bought and sold. The Odyssey of Homer shews that it was then practised in many of the islands of the �gean sea; and the Iliad, that it had taken place among those Grecians on the continent of Europe, who had embarked from thence on the Trojan expedition. This appears particularly at the end of the seventh book. A fleet is described there, as having just arrived from Lemnos, with a supply of wine for the Grecian camp. The merchants are described also, as immediately exposing it to sale, and as receiving in exchange, among other articles of barter, "_a number of slaves_." It will now be sufficient to observe, that, as other states arose, and as circumstances contributed to make them known, this custom is discovered to have existed among them; that it travelled over all Asia; that it spread through the Grecian and Roman world; was in use among the barbarous nations, which overturned the Roman empire; and was practised therefore, at the same period, throughout all Europe. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 025: me tacha pikren Aigypton kai Kypron idnai. Hom. Odyss. L. 17. 448.] [Footnote 026: L. 26.] [Footnote 027: Exodus. Ch. 1.] [Footnote 028: Vide note 1st. (Here shown as footnote 025).] [Footnote 029: This strikes us the more forcibly, as it is stiled _eurreiten_ and _perikallea_, "_beautiful and well watered_," in all other passages where it is mentioned, but this.] * * * * * CHAP. VII. This _slavery_ and _commerce_, which had continued for so long a time, and which was thus practised in Europe at so late a period as that, which succeeded the grand revolutions in the western world, began, as the northern nations were settled in their conquests, to decline, and, on their full establishment, were abolished. A difference of opinion has arisen respecting the cause of their abolition; some having asserted, that they were the necessary consequences of the _feudal system_; while others, superiour both in number and in argument, have maintained that they were the natural effects of _Christianity_. The mode of argument, which the former adopt on this occasion, is as follows. "The multitude of little states, which sprang up from one great one at this �ra, occasioned infinite bickerings and matter for contention. There was not a state or seignory, which did not want all the hands they could muster, either to defend their own right, or to dispute that of their neighbours. Thus every man was taken into the service: whom they armed they must trust: and there could be no trust but in free men. Thus the barrier between the two natures was thrown down, and _slavery_ was no more heard of, in the _west_." That this was not the _necessary_ consequence of such a situation, is apparent. The political state of Greece, in its early history, was the same as that of Europe, when divided, by the feudal system, into an infinite number of small and independent kingdoms. There was the same matter therefore for contention, and the same call for all the hands that could be mustered: the Grecians, in short, in _heroick_, were in the same situation in these respects as the _feudal barons_ in the _Gothick_ times. Had this therefore been a _necessary_ effect, there had been a cessation of servitude in Greece, in those ages, in which we have already shewn that it existed. But with respect to _Christianity_, many and great are the arguments, that it occasioned so desirable an event. It taught, "that all men were originally equal; that the Deity was no respecter of persons, and that, as all men were to give an account of their actions hereafter, it was necessary that they should be free." These doctrines could not fail of having their proper influence on those, who first embraced _Christianity_, from a _conviction_ of its truth; and on those of their descendents afterwards, who, by engaging in the _crusades_, and hazarding their lives and fortunes there, shewed, at least, an _attachment_ to that religion. We find them accordingly actuated by these principles: we have a positive proof, that the _feudal system_ had no share in the honour of suppressing slavery, but that _Christianity_ was the only cause; for the greatest part of the _charters_ which were granted for the freedom of slaves in those times (many of which are still extant) were granted, "_pro amore Dei, pro mercede animæ_." They were founded, in short, on religious considerations, "that they might procure the favour of the Deity, which they conceived themselves to have forfeited, by the subjugation of those, whom they found to be the objects of the divine benevolence and attention equally with themselves." These considerations, which had thus their first origin in _Christianity_, began to produce their effects, as the different nations were converted; and procured that general liberty at last, which, at the close of the twelfth century, was conspicuous in the west of Europe. What a glorious and important change! Those, who would have had otherwise no hopes, but that their miseries would be terminated by death, were then freed from their servile condition; those, who, by the laws of war, would have had otherwise an immediate prospect of servitude from the hands of their imperious conquerors, were then _exchanged_; a custom, which has happily descended to the present day. Thus, "a numerous class of men, who formerly had no political existence, and were employed merely as instruments of labour, became useful citizens, and contributed towards augmenting the force or riches of the society, which adopted them as members;" and thus did the greater part of the Europeans, by their conduct on this occasion, assert not only liberty for themselves, but for their fellow-creatures also. * * * * * CHAP. VIII. But if men therefore, at a time when under the influence of religion they exercised their serious thoughts, abolished slavery, how impious must they appear, who revived it; and what arguments will not present themselves against their conduct![030] The Portuguese, within two centuries after its suppression in Europe, in imitation of those _piracies_, which we have shewn to have existed in the _uncivilized_ ages of the world, made their descents on Africa, and committing depredations on the coast,[031] _first_ carried the wretched inhabitants into slavery. This practice, however trifling and partial it might appear at first, soon became serious and general. A melancholy instance of the depravity of human nature; as it shews, that neither the laws nor religion of any country, however excellent the forms of each, are sufficient to bind the consciences of some; but that there are always men, of every age, country, and persuasion, who are ready to sacrifice their dearest principles at the shrine of gain. Our own ancestors, together with the Spaniards, French, and most of the maritime powers of Europe, soon followed the _piratical_ example; and thus did the Europeans, to their eternal infamy, renew a custom, which their _own_ ancestors had so lately exploded, from a _conscientiousness_ of its _impiety_. The unfortunate Africans, terrified at these repeated depredations, fled in confusion from the coast, and sought, in the interiour parts of the country, a retreat from the persecution of their invaders. But, alas, they were miserably disappointed! There are few retreats, that can escape the penetrating eye of avarice. The Europeans still pursued them; they entered their rivers; sailed up into the heart of the country; surprized the unfortunate Africans again; and carried them into slavery. But this conduct, though successful at first, defeated afterwards its own ends. It created a more general alarm, and pointed out, at the same instant, the best method of security from future depredations. The banks of the rivers were accordingly deserted, as the coasts had been before; and thus were the _Christian_ invaders left without a prospect of their prey. In this situation however, expedients were not wanting. They now formed to themselves the resolution of settling in the country; of securing themselves by fortified ports; of changing their system of force into that of pretended liberality; and of opening, by every species of bribery and corruption, a communication with the natives. These plans were put into immediate execution. The Europeans erected their forts[032]; landed their merchandize; and endeavoured, by a peaceable deportment, by presents, and by every appearance of munificence, to seduce the attachment and confidence of the Africans. These schemes had the desired effect. The gaudy trappings of European art, not only caught their attention, but excited their curiosity: they dazzled the eyes and bewitched the senses, not only of those, to whom they were given, but of those, to whom they were shewn. Thus followed a speedy intercourse with each other, and a confidence, highly favourable to the views of avarice or ambition. It was now time for the Europeans to embrace the opportunity, which this intercourse had thus afforded them, of carrying their schemes into execution, and of fixing them on such a permanent foundation, as should secure them future success. They had already discovered, in the different interviews obtained, the chiefs of the African tribes. They paid their court therefore to these, and so compleatly intoxicated their senses with the luxuries, which they brought from home, as to be able to seduce them to their designs. A treaty of peace and commerce was immediately concluded: it was agreed, that the kings, on their part, should, from this period, sentence _prisoners of war_ and _convicts_ to _European servitude_; and that the Europeans should supply them, in return, with the luxuries of the north. This agreement immediately took place; and thus begun that _commerce_, which makes so considerable a figure at the present day. But happy had the Africans been, if those only, who had been justly convicted of crimes, or taken in a just war, had been sentenced to the severities of servitude! How many of those miseries, which afterwards attended them, had been never known; and how would their history have saved those sighs and emotions of pity, which must now ever accompany its perusal. The Europeans, on the establishment of their western colonies, required a greater number of slaves than a strict adherence to the treaty could produce. The princes therefore had only the choice of relinquishing the commerce, or of consenting to become unjust. They had long experienced the emoluments of the trade; they had acquired a taste for the luxuries it afforded; and they now beheld an opportunity of gratifying it, but in a more extentive manner. _Avarice_ therefore, which was too powerful for _justice_ on this occasion, immediately turned the scale: not only those, who were fairly convicted of offences, were now sentenced to servitude, but even those who were _suspected_. New crimes were invented, that new punishments might succeed. Thus was every appearance soon construed into reality; every shadow into a substance; and often virtue into a crime. Such also was the case with respect to prisoners of war. Not only those were now delivered into slavery, who were taken in a state of publick enmity and injustice, but those also, who, conscious of no injury whatever, were taken in the _arbitrary_ skirmishes of these _venal_ sovereigns. War was now made, not as formerly, from the motives of retaliation and defence, but for the sake of obtaining prisoners alone, and the advantages resulting from their sale. If a ship from Europe came but into sight, it was now considered as a sufficient motive for a war, and as a signal only for an instantaneous commencement of hostilities. But if the African kings could be capable of such injustice, what vices are there, that their consciences would restrain, or what enormities, that we might not expect to be committed? When men once consent to be unjust, they lose, at the same instant with their virtue, a considerable portion of that sense of shame, which, till then, had been found a successful protector against the sallies of vice. From that awful period, almost every expectation is forlorn: the heart is left unguarded: its great protector is no more: the vices therefore, which so long encompassed it in vain, obtain an easy victory: in crouds they pour into the defenceless avenues, and take possession of the soul: there is nothing now too vile for them to meditate, too impious to perform. Such was the situation of the despotick sovereigns of Africa. They had once ventured to pass the bounds of virtue, and they soon proceeded to enormity. This was particularly conspicuous in that general conduct, which they uniformly observed, after any unsuccessful conflict. Influenced only by the venal motives of European traffick, they first made war upon the neighbouring tribes, contrary to every principle of justice; and if, by the flight of the enemy, or by other contingencies, they were disappointed of their prey, they made no hesitation of immediately turning their arms against their own subjects. The first villages they came to, were always marked on this occasion, as the first objects of their avarice. They were immediately surrounded, were afterwards set on fire, and the wretched inhabitants seized, as they were escaping from the flames. These, consisting of whole families, fathers, brothers, husbands, wives, and children, were instantly driven in chains to the merchants, and consigned to slavery. To these calamities, which thus arose from the tyranny of the kings, we may now subjoin those, which arose from the avarice of private persons. Many were kidnapped by their own countrymen, who, encouraged by the merchants of Europe, previously lay in wait for them, and sold them afterwards for slaves; while the seamen of the different ships, by every possible artifice, enticed others on board, and transported them to the regions of servitude. As these practices are in full force at the present day, it appears that there are four orders of _involuntary_ slaves on the African continent; of [033]_convicts_; of _prisoners of war_; of those, who are publickly seized by virtue of the _authority_ of their prince; and of those, who are privately _kidnapped_ by individuals. It remains only to observe on this head, that in the sale and purchase of these the African commerce or _Slave Trade_ consists; that they are delivered to the merchants of Europe in exchange for their various commodities; that these transport them to their colonies in the west, where their _slavery_ takes place; and that a fifth order arises there, composed of all such as are born to the native Africans, after their transportation and slavery have commenced. Having thus explained as much of the history of modern servitude, as is sufficient for the prosecution of our design, we should have closed our account here, but that a work, just published, has furnished us with a singular anecdote of the colonists of a neighbouring nation, which we cannot but relate. The learned [034]author, having described the method which the Dutch colonists at the Cape make use of to take the Hottentots and enslave them, takes occasion, in many subsequent parts of the work, to mention the dreadful effects of the practice of slavery; which, as he justly remarks, "leads to all manner of misdemeanours and wickedness. Pregnant women," says he, "and children in their tenderest years, were not at this time, neither indeed are they ever, exempt from the effects of the hatred and spirit of vengeance constantly harboured by the colonists, with respect to the [035]Boshies-man nation; _excepting such indeed as are marked out to be carried away into bondage_. "Does a colonist at any time get sight of a Boshies-man, he takes fire immediately, and spirits up his horse and dogs, in order to hunt him with more ardour and fury than he would a wolf, or any other wild beast? On an open plain, a few colonists on horseback are always sure to get the better of the greatest number of Boshies-men that can be brought together; as the former always keep at the distance of about an hundred, or an hundred and fifty paces (just as they find it convenient) and charging their heavy fire-arms with a very large kind of shot, jump off their horses, and rest their pieces in their usual manner on their ramrods, in order that they may shoot with the greater certainty; so that the balls discharged by them will sometimes, as I have been assured, go through the bodies of six, seven, or eight of the enemy at a time, especially as these latter know no better than to keep close together in a body."-- "And not only is the capture of the Hottentots considered by them merely as a party of pleasure, but in cold blood they destroy the bands which nature has knit between their husbands, and their wives and children, &c." With what horrour do these passages seem to strike us! What indignation do they seem to raise in our breasts, when we reflect, that a part of the human species are considered as _game_, and that _parties of pleasure_ are made for their _destruction_! The lion does not imbrue his claws in blood, unless called upon by hunger, or provoked by interruption; whereas the merciless Dutch, more savage than the brutes themselves, not only murder their fellow-creatures without any provocation or necessity, but even make a diversion of their sufferings, and enjoy their pain. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 030: The following short history of the African servitude, is taken from Astley's Collection of Voyages, and from the united testimonies of Smyth, Adanson, Bosman, Moore, and others, who were agents to the different factories established there; who resided many years in the country; and published their respective histories at their return. These writers, if they are partial at all, may be considered as favourable rather to their own countrymen, than the unfortunate Africans.] [Footnote 031: We would not wish to be understood, that slavery was unknown in Africa before the _piratical_ expeditions of the _Portuguese_, as it appears from the _Nubian's Geography_, that both the slavery and commerce had been established among the natives with one another. We mean only to assert, that the _Portuguese_ were the first of the _Europeans_, who made their _piratical_ expeditions, and shewed the way to that _slavery_, which now makes so disgraceful a figure in the western colonies of the _Europeans_. In the term "Europeans," wherever it shall occur in the remaining part of this first dissertation, we include the _Portuguese_, and _those nations only_, who followed their example.] [Footnote 032: The _Portuguese_ erected their first fort at _D'Elmina_, in the year 1481, about forty years after Alonzo Gonzales had pointed the Southern Africans out to his countrymen as articles of commerce.] [Footnote 033: In the ancient servitude, we reckoned _convicts_ among the _voluntary_ slaves, because they had it in their power, by a virtuous conduct, to have avoided so melancholy a situation; in the _African_, we include them in the _involuntary_, because, as virtues are frequently construed into crimes, from the venal motives of the traffick, no person whatever possesses such a _power_ or _choice_.] [Footnote 034: Andrew Sparrman, M.D. professor of Physick at Stockholm, fellow of the Royal Academy of Sciences in Sweden, and inspector of its cabinet of natural history, whose voyage was translated into English, and published in 1785.] [Footnote 035: Boshies-man, or _wild Hottentot_.] * * * * * End of the First Part. * * * * * PART II. THE AFRICAN COMMERCE, OR SLAVE TRADE. * * * * * CHAP. I. As we explained the History of Slavery in the first part of this Essay, as far as it was necessary for our purpose, we shall now take the question into consideration, which we proposed at first as the subject of our inquiry, viz. how far the commerce and slavery of the human species, as revived by some of the nations of Europe in the persons of the unfortunate Africans, and as revived, in a great measure, on the principles of antiquity, are consistent with the laws of nature, or the common notions of equity, as established among men. This question resolves itself into two separate parts for discussion, into _the African commerce (as explained in the history of slavery)_ and _the subsequent slavery in the colonies, as founded on the equity of the commerce_. The former, of course, will be first examined. For this purpose we shall inquire into the rise, nature, and design of government. Such an inquiry will be particularly useful in the present place; it will afford us that general knowledge of subordination and liberty, which is necessary in the case before us, and will be found, as it were, a source, to which we may frequently refer for many and valuable arguments. It appears that mankind were originally free, and that they possessed an equal right to the soil and produce of the earth. For proof of this, we need only appeal to the _divine_ writings; to the _golden age_ of the poets, which, like other fables of the times, had its origin in truth; and to the institution of the _Saturnalia_, and of other similar festivals; all of which are so many monuments of this original equality of men. Hence then there was no rank, no distinction, no superiour. Every man wandered where he chose, changing his residence, as a spot attracted his fancy, or suited his convenience, uncontrouled by his neighbour, unconnected with any but his family. Hence also (as every thing was common) he collected what he chose without injury, and enjoyed without injury what he had collected. Such was the first situation of mankind; [036]a state of _dissociation_ and _independence_. In this dissociated state it is impossible that men could have long continued. The dangers to which they must have frequently been exposed, by the attacks of fierce and rapacious beasts, by the proedatory attempts of their own species, and by the disputes of contiguous and independent families; these, together with their inability to defend, themselves, on many such occasions, must have incited them to unite. Hence then was _society_ formed on the grand principles of preservation and defence: and as these principles began to operate, in the different parts of the earth, where the different families had roamed, a great number of these _societies_ began to be formed and established; which, taking to themselves particular names from particular occurrences, began to be perfectly distinct from one another. As the individuals, of whom these societies were composed, had associated only for their defence, so they experienced, at first, no change in their condition. They were still independent and free; they were still without discipline or laws; they had every thing still in common; they pursued the same, manner of life; wandering only, in _herds_, as the earth gave them or refused them sustenance, and doing, as a _publick body_, what they had been accustomed to do as _individuals_ before. This was the exact situation of the Getæ and Scythians[037], of the Lybians and Goetulians[038], of the Italian Aborigines[039], and of the Huns and Alans[040]. They had left their original state of _dissociation_, and had stepped into that, which has been just described. Thus was the second situation of men a state of _independent society_. Having thus joined themselves together, and having formed themselves into several large and distinct bodies, they could not fail of submitting soon to a more considerable change. Their numbers must have rapidly increased, and their societies, in process of time, have become so populous, as frequently to have experienced the want of subsistence, and many of the commotions and tumults of intestine strife. For these inconveniences however there were remedies to be found. _Agriculture_ would furnish them with that subsistence and support, which the earth, from the rapid increase of its inhabitants, had become unable spontaneously to produce. An _assignation_ of _property_ would not only enforce an application, but excite an emulation, to labour; and _government_ would at once afford a security to the acquisitions of the industrious, and heal the intestine disorders of the community, by the introduction of laws. Such then were the remedies, that were gradually applied. The _societies_, which had hitherto seen their members, undistinguished either by authority or rank, admitted now of magistratical pre-eminence. They were divided into tribes; to every tribe was allotted a particular district for its support, and to every individual his particular spot. The Germans[041], who consisted of many and various nations, were exactly in this situation. They had advanced a step beyond the Scythians, Goetulians, and those, whom we described before; and thus was the third situation of mankind a state of _subordinate society_. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 036: This conclusion concerning the dissociated state of mankind, is confirmed by all the early writers, with whose descriptions of primitive times no other conclusion is reconcileable.] [Footnote 037: Justin. L. 2. C. 2.] [Footnote 038: Sallust. Bell. Jug.] [Footnote 039: Sallust. Bell. Catil.] [Footnote 040: Ammianus Marcellinus. L. 31. C. 2. et. inseq.] [Footnote 041: Agri pro Numero Cultorum ab universis per vicos occupantur, quos mox inter se secundum dignationem partiuntur. Tacitus. C. 26. de Mor. Germ.] * * * * * CHAP. II. As we have thus traced the situation of man from unbounded liberty to subordination, it will be proper to carry our inquiries farther, and to consider, who first obtained the pre-eminence in these _primoeval societies_, and by what particular methods it was obtained. There were only two ways, by which such an event could have been produced, by _compulsion_ or _consent_. When mankind first saw the necessity of government, it is probable that many had conceived the desire of ruling. To be placed in a new situation, to be taken from the common herd, to be the first, distinguished among men, were thoughts, that must have had their charms. Let us suppose then, that these thoughts had worked so unusually on the passions of any particular individual, as to have driven him to the extravagant design of obtaining the preeminence by force. How could his design have been accomplished? How could he forcibly have usurped the jurisdiction at a time, when, all being equally free, there was not a single person, whose assistance he could command? Add to this, that, in a state of universal liberty, force had been repaid by force, and the attempt had been fatal to the usurper. As _empire_ then could never have been gained at first by _compulsion_, so it could only have been obtained by _consent_; and as men were then going to make an important sacrifice, for the sake of their _mutual_ happiness, so he alone could have obtained it, (not whose _ambition_ had greatly distinguished him from the rest) but in whose _wisdom, justice, prudence_, and _virtue_, the whole community could confide. To confirm this reasoning, we shall appeal, as before, to facts; and shall consult therefore the history of those nations, which having just left their former state of _independent society_, were the very people that established _subordination_ and _government_. The commentaries of Cæsar afford us the following accounts of the ancient Gauls. When any of their kings, either by death, or deposition, made a vacancy in the regal office, the whole nation was immediately convened for the appointment of a successor. In these national conventions were the regal offices conferred. Every individual had a voice on the occasion, and every individual was free. The person upon whom the general approbation appeared to fall, was immediately advanced to pre-eminence in the state. He was uniformly one, whose actions had made him eminent; whose conduct had gained him previous applause; whose valour the very assembly, that elected him, had themselves witnessed in the field; whose prudence, wisdom and justice, having rendered him signally serviceable, had endeared him to his tribe. For this reason, their kingdoms were not hereditary; the son did not always inherit the virtues of the sire; and they were determined that he alone should possess authority, in whose virtues they could confide. Nor was this all. So sensible were they of the important sacrifice they had made; so extremely jealous even of the name of superiority and power, that they limited, by a variety of laws, the authority of the very person, whom they had just elected, from a confidence of his integrity; Ambiorix himself confessing, "that his people had as much power over him, as he could possibly have over his people." The same custom, as appears from Tacitus, prevailed also among the Germans. They had their national councils, like the Gauls; in which the regal and ducal offices were confirmed according to the majority of voices. They elected also, on these occasions, those only, whom their virtue, by repeated trial, had unequivocally distinguished from the rest; and they limited their authority so far, as neither to leave them the power of inflicting imprisonment or stripes, nor of exercising any penal jurisdiction. But as punishment was necessary in a state of civil society, "it was permitted to the priests alone, that it might appear to have been inflicted, by the order of the gods, and not by any superiour authority in man." The accounts which we have thus given of the ancient Germans and Gauls, will be found also to be equally true of those people, which had arrived at the same state of subordinate society. We might appeal, for a testimony of this, to the history of the Goths; to the history of the Franks and Saxons; to, the history, in short, of all those nations, from which the different governments, now conspicuous in Europe, have undeniably sprung. And we might appeal, as a farther proof, to the Americans, who are represented by many of the moderns, from their own ocular testimony, as observing the same customs at the present day. It remains only to observe, that as these customs prevailed among the different nations described, in their early state of subordinate society, and as they were moreover the customs of their respective ancestors, it appears that they must have been handed down, both by tradition and use, from the first introduction of _government_. * * * * * CHAP. III. We may now deduce those general maxims concerning _subordination_, and _liberty_, which we mentioned to have been essentially connected with the subject, and which some, from speculation only, and without any allusion to facts, have been bold enough to deny. It appears first, that _liberty_ is a _natural_, and _government_ an _adventitious_ right, because all men were originally free. It appears secondly, that government is a [042]_contract_ because, in these primeval subordinate societies, we have seen it voluntarily conferred on the one hand, and accepted on the other. We have seen it subject to various restrictions. We have seen its articles, which could then only be written by tradition and use, as perfect and binding as those, which are now committed to letters. We have seen it, in short, partaking of the _federal_ nature, as much as it could in a state, which wanted the means of recording its transactions. It appear thirdly, that the grand object of the _contrast_, is the _happiness_ of the people; because they gave the supremacy to him alone, who had been conspicuous for the splendour of his abilities, or the integrity of his life: that the power of the multitude being directed by the _wisdom_ and _justice_ of the prince, they might experience the most effectual protection from injury, the highest advantages of society, the greatest possible _happiness_. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 042: The author has lately read a work, intitled Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, which, in this one respect, favours those which have been hinted at, as it denies that government was a contract. "No social compact was ever made in fact,"--"it is to suppose it possible to call savages out of caves and deserts, to deliberate upon topicks, which the experience and studies, and the refinements of civil life alone suggest. Therefore no government in the universe begun from this original." But there are no grounds for so absurd a supposition; for government, and of course the social compact, does not appear to have been introduced at the time, when families coming out of their caves and deserts, or, in other words, quitting their former _dissociated_ state, joined themselves together. They had lived a considerable time in _society_, like the Lybians and Gætulians before-mentioned, and had felt many of the disadvantages of a want of discipline and laws, before government was introduced at all. The author of this Essay, before he took into consideration the origin of government, was determined, in a matter of such importance, to be biassed by no opinion whatever, and much less to indulge himself in speculation. He was determined solely to adhere to fact, and, by looking into the accounts left us of those governments which were in their infancy, and, of course in the least complicated state, to attempt to discover their foundation: he cannot say therefore, that upon a very minute perusal of the excellent work before quoted, he has been so far convinced, as to retract in the least from his sentiments on this head, and to give up maxims, which are drawn from historical facts, for those, which are the result of speculation. He may observe here, that whether government was a _contract_ or not, it will not affect the reasoning of the present Essay; since where ever the contract is afterwards mentioned, it is inferred only that its object was "the _happiness of the people_," which is confessedly the end of government. Notwithstanding this, he is under the necessity of inserting this little note, though he almost feels himself ungrateful in contradicting a work, which has afforded him so much entertainment.] * * * * * CHAP. IV. Having now collected the materials that are necessary for the prosecution of our design, we shall immediately enter upon the discussion. If any man had originally been endued with power, as with other faculties, so that the rest of mankind had discovered in themselves an _innate necessity_ of obeying this particular person; it is evident that he and his descendants, from the superiority of their nature, would have had a claim upon men for obedience, and a natural right to command: but as the right to empire is _adventitious_; as all were originally free; as nature made every man's body and mind _his own_; it is evident that no just man can be consigned to _slavery_, without his own _consent_. Neither can men, by the same principles, be considered as lands, goods, or houses, among _possessions_. It is necessary that all _property_ should be inferiour to its _possessor_. But how does the _slave_ differ from his _master_, but by _chance_? For though the mark, with which the latter is pleased to brand him, shews, at the first sight, the difference of their _fortune_; what mark can be found in his _nature_, that can warrant a distinction? To this consideration we shall add the following, that if men can justly become the property of each other, their children, like the offspring of cattle, must inherit their _paternal_ lot. Now, as the actions of the father and the child must be thus at the sole disposal of their common master, it is evident, that the _authority_ of the one, as a _parent_, and the _duty_ of the other, as a _child_, must be instantly annihilated; rights and obligations, which, as they are sounded in nature, are implanted in our feelings, and are established by the voice of God, must contain in their annihilation a solid argument to prove, that there cannot be any _property_ whatever in the _human species_. We may consider also, as a farther confirmation, that it is impossible, in the nature of things, that _liberty_ can be _bought_ or _sold_! It is neither _saleable_, nor _purchasable_. For if any one man can have an absolute property in the liberty of another, or, in other words, if he, who is called a _master_, can have a _just_ right to command the actions of him, who is called a _slave_, it is evident that the latter cannot be accountable for those crimes, which the former may order him to commit. Now as every reasonable being is accountable for his actions, it is evident, that such a right cannot _justly_ exist, and that human liberty, of course, is beyond the possibility either of _sale_ or _purchase_. Add to this, that, whenever you sell the liberty of a man, you have the power only of alluding to the _body_: the _mind_ cannot be confined or bound: it will be free, though its mansion be beset with chains. But if, in every sale of the _human species_, you are under the necessity of considering your slave in this abstracted light; of alluding only to the body, and of making no allusion to the mind; you are under the necessity also of treating him, in the same moment, as a _brute_, and of abusing therefore that nature, which cannot otherwise be considered, than in the double capacity of _soul_ and _body_. But some person, perhaps, will make an objection to one of the former arguments. "If men, from _superiority_ of their nature, cannot be considered, like lands, goods, or houses, among possessions, so neither can cattle: for being endued with life, motion, and sensibility, they are evidently _superiour_ to these." But this objection will receive its answer from those observations which have been already made; and will discover the true reason, why cattle are justly to be estimated as property. For first, the right to empire over brutes, is _natural_, and not _adventitious_, like the right to empire over men. There are, secondly, many and evident signs of the _inferiority_ of their nature; and thirdly, their liberty can be bought and sold, because, being void of reason, they cannot be _accountable_ for their actions. We might stop here for a considerable time, and deduce many valuable lessons from the remarks that have been made, but that such a circumstance might be considered as a digression. There is one, however, which, as it is so intimately connected with the subject, we cannot but deduce. We are taught to treat men in a different manner from brutes, because they are so manifestly superiour in their nature; we are taught to treat brutes in a different manner from stones, for the same reason; and thus, by giving to every created thing its due respect, to answer the views of Providence, which did not create a variety of natures without a purpose or design. But if these things are so, how evidently against reason, nature, and every thing human and divine, must they act, who not only force men into _slavery_, against their own _consent_; but treat them altogether as _brutes_, and make the _natural liberty_ of man an article of publick commerce! and by what arguments can they possibly defend that commerce, which cannot be carried on, in any single instance, without a flagrant violation of the laws of nature and of God? * * * * * CHAP. V. That we may the more accurately examine the arguments that are advanced on this occasion, it will be proper to divide the _commerce_ into two parts; first, as it relates to those who _sell_, and secondly, as it relates to those who _purchase_, the _human species_ into slavery. To the former part of which, having given every previous and necessary information in the history of servitude, we shall immediately proceed. Let us inquire first, by what particular right the _liberties_ of the harmless people are invaded by the _prince_. "By the _right of empire_," it will be answered; "because he possesses dominion and power by their own approbation and consent." But subjects, though under the dominion, are not the _property_, of the prince. They cannot be considered as his _possessions_. Their _natures_ are both the same; they are both born in the same manner; are subject to the same disorders; must apply to the same remedies for a cure; are equally partakers of the grave: an _incidental_ distinction accompanies them through life, and this--is all. We may add to this, that though the prince possesses dominion and power, by the consent and approbation of his subjects, he possesses it only for the most _salutary_ ends. He may tyrannize, if he can: he may alter the _form_ of his government: he cannot, however, alter its _nature_ and _end_. These will be immutably the same, though the whole system of its administration should be changed; and he will be still bound to _defend_ the lives and properties of his subjects, and to make them _happy_. Does he defend those therefore, whom he invades at discretion with the sword? Does he protect the property of those, whose houses and effects he consigns at discretion to the flames? Does he make those happy, whom he seizes, as they are trying to escape the general devastation, and compels with their wives and families to a wretched _servitude?_ He acts surely, as if the use of empire consisted in violence and oppression; as if he, that was most exalted, ought, of necessity, to be most unjust. Here then the voice of _nature_ and _justice_ is against him. He breaks that law of _nature_, which ordains, "that no just man shall be given into slavery, against his own _consent_:" he violates the first law of _justice_, as established among men, "that no person shall do harm to another without a previous and sufficient _provocation_;" and he violates also the sacred condition of _empire_, made with his ancestors, and necessarily understood in every species of government, "that, the power of the multitude being given up to the wisdom and justice of the prince, they may experience, in return, the most effectual protection from injury, the highest advantages of society, the greatest possible _happiness_." But if kings then, to whom their own people have granted dominion and power, are unable to invade the liberties of their harmless subjects, without the highest _injustice_; how can those private persons be justified, who treacherously lie in wait for their fellow-creatures, and sell them into slavery? What arguments can they possibly bring in their defence? What treaty of empire can they produce, by which their innocent victims ever resigned to them the least portion of their _liberty_? In vain will they plead the _antiquity_ of the custom: in vain will the _honourable_ light, in which _piracy_ was considered in the ages of barbarism, afford them an excuse. Impious and abandoned men! ye invade the liberties of those, who, (with respect to your impious selves) are in a state of _nature_, in a state of original _dissociation_, perfectly _independent_, perfectly _free_. It appears then, that the two orders of slaves, which have been mentioned in the history of the African servitude, "of those who are publickly seized by virtue of the authority of their prince; and of those, who are privately kidnapped by individuals," are collected by means of violence and oppression; by means, repugnant to _nature_, the principles of _government_, and the common notions of _equity_, as established among men. * * * * * CHAP. VI. We come now to the third order of _involuntary_ slaves, "to convicts." The only argument that the sellers advance here, is this, "that they have been found guilty of offences, and that the punishment is just." But before the equity of the sentence can be allowed two questions must be decided, whether the punishment is _proportioned_ to the offence, and what is its particular _object_ and _end_? To decide the first, we may previously observe, that the African servitude comprehends _banishment_, a _deprivation_ of _liberty_, and many _corporal_ sufferings. On _banishment_, the following observations will suffice. Mankind have their _local_ attachments. They have a particular regard for the spot, in which they were born and nurtured. Here it was, that they first drew their infant-breath: here, that they were cherished and supported: here, that they passed those scenes of childhood, which, free from care and anxiety, are the happiest in the life of man; scenes, which accompany them through life; which throw themselves frequently into their thoughts, and produce the most agreeable sensations. These then are weighty considerations; and how great this regard is, may be evidenced from our own feelings; from the testimony of some, who, when remote from their country, and, in the hour of danger and distress, have found their thoughts unusually directed, by some impulse or other, to their native spot; and from the example of others, who, having braved the storms and adversities of life, either repair to it for the remainder of their days, or desire even to be conveyed to it, when existence is no more. But separately from these their _local_, they have also their _personal_ attachments; their regard for particular men. There are ties of blood; there are ties of friendship. In the former case, they must of necessity be attached: the constitution of their nature demands it. In the latter, it is impossible to be otherwise, since friendship is founded on an harmony of temper, on a concordance of sentiments and manners, on habits of confidence, and a mutual exchange of favours. We may now mention, as perfectly distinct both from their _local_ and_ personal_, the _national_ attachments of mankind, their regard for the whole body of the people, among whom they were born and educated. This regard is particularly conspicuous in the conduct of such, as, being thus _nationally_ connected, reside in foreign parts. How anxiously do they meet together! how much do they enjoy the fight of others of their countrymen, whom fortune places in their way! what an eagerness do they show to serve them, though not born on the same particular spot, though not connected by consanguinity or friendship, though unknown to them before! Neither is this affection wonderful, since they are creatures of the same education; of the same principles; of the same manners and habits; cast, as it were, in the same mould; and marked with the same impression. If men therefore are thus separately attached to the several objects described, it is evident that a separate exclusion from either must afford them considerable pain. What then must be their sufferings, to be forced for ever from their country, which includes them all? Which contains the _spot_, in which they were born and nurtured; which contains their _relations_ and _friends_; which contains the whole body of the _people_, among whom they were bred and educated. In these sufferings, which arise to men, both in bidding, and in having bid, adieu to all that they esteem as dear and valuable, _banishment_ consists in part; and we may agree therefore with the ancients, without adding other melancholy circumstances to the account, that it is no inconsiderable punishment of itself. With respect to the _loss_ of _liberty_, which is the second consideration in the punishment, it is evident that men bear nothing worse; that there is nothing, that they lay more at heart; and that they have shewn, by many and memorable instances, that even death is to be preferred. How many could be named here, who, having suffered the _loss_ of _liberty_, have put a period to their existence! How many, that have willingly undergone the hazard of their lives to destroy a tyrant! How many, that have even gloried to perish in the attempt! How many bloody and publick wars have been undertaken (not to mention the numerous _servile_ insurrections, with which history is stained) for the cause of _freedom_! But if nothing is dearer than _liberty_ to men, with which, the barren rock is able to afford its joys, and without which, the glorious fun shines upon them but in vain, and all the sweets and delicacies of life are tasteless and unenjoyed; what punishment can be more severe than the loss of so great a blessing? But if to this _deprivation_ of _liberty_, we add the agonizing pangs of _banishment_; and if to the complicated stings of both, we add the incessant _stripes, wounds_, and _miseries_, which are undergone by those, who are sold into this horrid _servitude_; what crime can we possibly imagine to be so enormous, as to be worthy of so great a punishment? How contrary then to reason, justice, and nature, must those act, who apply this, the severest of human punishments, to the most insignificant offence! yet such is the custom with the Africans: for, from the time, in which the Europeans first intoxicated the African princes with their foreign draughts, no crime has been committed, no shadow of a crime devised, that has not immediately been punished with _servitude_. But for what purpose is the punishment applied? Is it applied to amend the manners of the criminal, and thus render him a better subject? No, for if you banish him, he can no longer be a subject, and you can no longer therefore be solicitous for his morals. Add to this, that if you banish him to a place, where he is to experience the hardships of want and hunger (so powerfully does hunger compel men to the perpetration of crimes) you force him rather to corrupt, than amend his manners, and to be wicked, when he might otherwise be just. Is it applied then, that others may be deterred from the same proceedings, and that crimes may become less frequent? No, but that _avarice_ may be gratified; that the prince may experience the emoluments of the sale: for, horrid and melancholy thought! the more crimes his subjects commit, the richer is he made; the more _abandoned_ the subject, the _happier_ is the prince! Neither can we allow that the punishment thus applied, tends in any degree to answer _publick happiness_; for if men can be sentenced to slavery, right or wrong; if shadows can be turned into substances, and virtues into crimes; it is evident that none can be happy, because none can be secure. But if the punishment is infinitely greater than the offence, (which has been shewn before) and if it is inflicted, neither to amend the criminal, nor to deter others from the same proceedings, nor to advance, in any degree, the happiness of the publick, it is scarce necessary to observe, that it is totally unjust, since it is repugnant to _reason_, the dictates of _nature_, and the very principles of _government_. * * * * * CHAP. VII. We come now to the fourth and last order of slaves, to _prisoners of war_. As the _sellers_ lay a particular stress on this order of men, and infer much, from its _antiquity_, in support of the justice of their cause, we shall examine the principle, on which it subsisted among the ancients. But as this principle was the same among all nations, and as a citation from many of their histories would not be less tedious than unnecessary, we shall select the example of the Romans for the consideration of the case. The law, by which prisoners of war were said to be sentenced to servitude, was the _law of nations_[043]. It was so called from the universal concurrence of nations in the custom. It had two points in view, the _persons_ of the _captured_, and their _effects_; both of which it immediately sentenced, without any of the usual forms of law, to be the property of the _captors_. The principle, on which the law was established, was the _right of capture_. When any of the contending parties had overcome their opponents, and were about to destroy them, the right was considered to commence; a right, which the victors conceived themselves to have, to recall their swords, and, from the consideration of having saved the lives of the vanquished, when they could have taken them by the laws of war, to commute _blood_ for _service_. Hence the Roman lawyer, Pomponius, deduces the etymology of _slave_ in the Roman language. "They were called _servi_[044], says he, from the following circumstance. It was usual with our commanders to take them prisoners, and sell them: now this circumstance implies, that they must have been previously _preserved_, and hence the name." Such then was the _right of capture_. It was a right, which the circumstance of _taking_ the vanquished, that is, of _preserving_ them alive, gave the conquerors to their persons. By this right, as always including the idea of a previous preservation from death, the vanquished were said _to be slaves_[045]; and, "as all slaves," says Justinian, "are themselves in the power of others, and of course can have nothing of their own, so their effects followed the condition of their persons, and became the property of the captors." To examine this right, by which the vanquished were said to be slaves, we shall use the words of a celebrated Roman author, and apply them to the present case[046]. "If it is lawful," says he, "to deprive a man of his life, it is certainly not inconsistent with nature to rob him;" to rob him of his liberty. We admit the conclusion to be just, if the supposition be the same: we allow, if men have a right to commit that, which is considered as a greater crime, that they have a right, at the same instant, to commit that, which is considered as a less. But what shall we say to the _hypothesis_? We deny it to be true. The voice of nature is against it. It is not lawful to kill, but on _necessity_. Had there been a necessity, where had the wretched captive survived to be broken with chains and servitude? The very act of saving his life is an argument to prove, that no such necessity existed. The _conclusion_ is therefore false. The captors had no right to the _lives_ of the captured, and of course none to their _liberty_: they had no right to their _blood_, and of course none to their _service_. Their right therefore had no foundation in justice. It was founded on a principle, contrary to the law of nature, and of course contrary to that law, which people, under different governments, are bound to observe to one another. It is scarce necessary to observe, as a farther testimony of the injustice of the measure, that the Europeans, after the introduction of Christianity, exploded this principle of the ancients, as frivolous and false; that they spared the lives of the vanquished, not from the sordid motives of _avarice_, but from a conscientiousness, that homicide could only be justified by _necessity_; that they introduced an _exchange_ of prisoners, and, by many and wise regulations, deprived war of many of its former horrours. But the advocates for slavery, unable to defend themselves against these arguments, have fled to other resources, and, ignorant of history, have denied that the _right of capture_ was the true principle, on which slavery subsisted among the ancients. They reason thus. "The learned Grotius, and others, have considered slavery as the just consequence of a private war, (supposing the war to be just and the opponents in a state of nature), upon the principles of _reparation_ and _punishment_. Now as the law of nature, which is the rule of conduct to individuals in such a situation, is applicable to members of a different community, there is reason to presume, that these principles were applied by the ancients to their prisoners of war; that their _effects_ were confiscated by the right of _reparation_, and their _persons_ by the right of _punishment_."-- But, such a presumption is false. The _right of capture_ was the only argument, that the ancients adduced in their defence. Hence Polybius; "What must they, (the Mantinenses) suffer, to receive the punishment they deserve? Perhaps it will be said, _that they must be sold, when they are taken, with their wives and children into slavery_: But this is not to be considered as a punishment, since even those suffer it, by the laws of war, who have done nothing that is base." The truth is, that both the _offending_ and the _offended_ parties, whenever they were victorious, inflicted slavery alike. But if the _offending_ party inflicted slavery on the persons of the vanquished, by what right did they inflict it? It must be answered from the presumption before-mentioned, "by the right of _reparation_, or of _punishment:_" an answer plainly absurd and contradictory, as it supposes the _aggressor_ to have a _right_, which the _injured_ only could possess. Neither is the argument less fallacious than the presumption, in applying these principles, which in a _publick_ war could belong to the _publick_ only, to the persons of the _individuals_ that were taken. This calls us again to the history of the ancients, and, as the rights of reparation and punishment could extend to those only, who had been injured, to select a particular instance for the consideration of the case. As the Romans had been injured without a previous provocation by the conduct of Hannibal at Saguntum, we may take the treaty into consideration, which they made with the Carthaginians, when the latter, defeated at Zama, sued for peace. It consisted of three articles[047]. By the first, the Carthaginians were to be free, and to enjoy their own constitution and laws. By the second, they were to pay a considerable sum of money, as a reparation for the damages and expence of war: and, by the third, they were to deliver up their elephants and ships of war, and to be subject to various restrictions, as a punishment. With these terms they complied, and the war was finished. Thus then did the Romans make that distinction between _private_ and _publick_ war, which was necessary to be made, and which the argument is fallacious in not supposing. The treasury of the vanquished was marked as the means of _reparation_; and as this treasury was supplied, in a great measure, by the imposition of taxes, and was, wholly, the property of the _publick_, so the _publick_ made the reparation that was due. The _elephants_ also, and _ships of war_, which were marked as the means of _punishment_, were _publick_ property; and as they were considerable instruments of security and defence to their possessors, and of annoyance to an enemy, so their loss, added to the restrictions of the treaty, operated as a great and _publick_ punishment. But with respect to the Carthaginian prisoners, who had been taken in the war, they were retained in _servitude:_ not upon the principles of _reparation_ and _punishment_, because the Romans had already received, by their own confession in the treaty, a sufficient satisfaction: not upon these principles, because they were inapplicable to _individuals:_ the legionary soldier in the service of the injured, who took his prisoner, was not the person, to whom the _injury had been done_, any more than the soldier in the service of the aggressors, who was taken, was the person, who had _committed the offence:_ but they were retained in servitude by the _right of capture_; because, when both parties had sent their military into the field to determine the dispute, it was at the _private_ choice of the legionary soldier before-mentioned, whether he would spare the life of his conquered opponent, when he was thought to be entitled to take it, if he had chosen, by the laws of war. To produce more instances, as an illustration of the subject, or to go farther into the argument, would be to trespass upon the patience, as well as understanding of the reader. In _a state of nature_, where a man is supposed to commit an injury, and to be unconnected with the rest of the world, the act is _private_, and the right, which the injured acquires, can extend only to _himself:_ but in _a state of society_, where any member or members of a particular community give offence to those of another, and they are patronized by the state, to which they belong, the case is altered; the act becomes immediately _publick_, and the _publick_ alone are to experience the consequences of their injustice. For as no particular member of the community, if considered as an individual, is guilty, except the person, by whom the injury was done, it would be contrary to reason and justice, to apply the principles of _reparation_ and _punishment_, which belong to the people as a collective body, to any individual of the community, who should happen to be taken. Now, as the principles of _reparation_ and _punishment_ are thus inapplicable to the prisoners, taken in a _publick_ war, and as the _right of capture_, as we have shewn before, is insufficient to intitle the victors to the _service_ of the vanquished, it is evident that _slavery_ cannot justly exist at all, since there are no other maxims, on which it can be founded, even in the most equitable wars. But if these things are so; if slavery cannot be defended even in the most _equitable_ wars, what arguments will not be found against that servitude, which arises from those, that are _unjust?_ Which arises from those African wars, that relate to the present subject? The African princes, corrupted by the merchants of Europe, seek every opportunity of quarrelling with one another. Every spark is blown into a flame; and war is undertaken from no other consideration, than that _of procuring slaves:_ while the Europeans, on the other hand, happy in the quarrels which they have thus excited, supply them with arms and ammunition for the accomplishment of their horrid purpose. Thus has Africa, for the space of two hundred years, been the scene of the most iniquitous and bloody wars; and thus have many thousands of men, in the most iniquitous manner, been sent into servitude. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 043: _Jure Gentium_ servi nostri sunt, qui ab hostibus capiuntur. Justinian, L. 1. 5. 5. 1.] [Footnote 044: _Serverum_ appellatio ex eo fluxit, quod imperatores nostri captivos vendere, ac per hoc _servare_, nec occidere solent.] [Footnote 045: Nam sive victoribus _jure captivitatis_ servissent, &c. Justin, L. 4. 3. et passim apud scriptores antiquos.] [Footnote 046: Neque est contra naturam spoliare eum, si possis, quem honestum est necare. Cicero de officiis. L. 3. 6.] [Footnote 047: 1. Ut liberi suis legibus viverent. Livy, L. 30. 37. 2. Decem millia talentum argenti descripta pensionibus æquis in annos quinquaginta solverent. Ibid. 3. Et naves rostratas, præter decem triremes, traderent, elephantosque, quos haberent domitos; neque domarent alios; Bellum neve in Africa, neve extra Africam, injussu P. R. gererent, &c. Ibid.] * * * * * CHAP. VIII. We shall beg leave, before we proceed to the arguments of the _purchasers_, to add the following observations to the substance of the three preceding chapters. As the two orders of men, of those who are privately kidnapped by individuals, and of those who are publickly seized by virtue of the authority of their prince, compose together, at least[048], nine tenths of the African slaves, they cannot contain, upon a moderate computation, less than ninety thousand men annually transported: an immense number, but easily to be credited, when we reflect that thousands are employed for the purpose of stealing the unwary, and that these diabolical practices are in force, so far has European _injustice_ been spread, at the distance of a thousand miles from the factories on the coast. The _slave merchants_, among whom a quantity of European goods is previously divided, travel into the heart of the country to this amazing distance. Some of them attend the various markets, that are established through so large an extent of territory, to purchase the kidnapped people, whom the _slave-hunters_ are continually bringing in; while the rest, subdividing their merchandize among the petty sovereigns with whom they deal, receive, by an immediate exertion of fraud and violence, the stipulated number. Now, will any man assert, in opposition to the arguments before advanced, that out of this immense body of men, thus annually collected and transported, there is even _one_, over whom the original or subsequent seller can have any power or right? Whoever asserts this, in the first instance, must, contradict his own feelings, and must consider _himself_ as a just object of prey, whenever any daring invader shall think it proper to attack _him_. And, in the second instance, the very idea which the African princes entertain of their villages, as _parks_ or _reservoirs_, stocked only for their own convenience, and of their subjects, as _wild beasts_, whom they may pursue and take at pleasure, is so shocking, that it need only be mentioned, to be instantly reprobated by the reader. The order of slaves, which is next to the former in respect to the number of people whom it contains, is that of prisoners of war. This order, if the former statement be true, is more inconsiderable than is generally imagined; but whoever reflects on the prodigious slaughter that is constantly made in every African skirmish, cannot be otherwise than of this opinion: he will find, that where _ten_ are taken, he has every reason to presume that an _hundred_ perish. In some of these skirmishes, though they have been begun for the express purpose of _procuring slaves_, the conquerors have suffered but few of the vanquished to escape the fury of the sword; and there have not been wanting instances, where they have been so incensed at the resistance they have found, that their spirit of vengeance has entirely got the better of their avarice, and they have murdered, in cool blood, every individual, without discrimination, either of age or sex. The following[049] is an account of one of these skirmishes, as described by a person, who was witness to the scene. "I was sent, with several others, in a small sloop up the river Niger, to purchase slaves: we had some free negroes with us in the practice; and as the vessels are liable to frequent attacks from the negroes on one side of the river, or the Moors on the other, they are all armed. As we rode at anchor a long way up the river, we observed a large number of negroes in huts by the river's side, and for our own safety kept a wary eye on them. Early next morning we saw from our masthead a numerous body approaching, with apparently but little order, but in close array. They approached very fast, and fell furiously on the inhabitants of the town, who seemed to be quite _surprized_, but nevertheless, as soon as they could get together, fought stoutly. They had some fire-arms, but made very little use of them, as they came directly to close fighting with their spears, lances, and sabres. Many of the invaders were mounted on small horses; and both parties fought for about half an hour with the fiercest animosity, exerting much more courage and perseverance than I had ever before been witness to amongst them. The women and children of the town clustered together to the water's edge, running shrieking up and down with terrour, waiting the event of the combat, till their party gave way and took to the water, to endeavour to swim over to the Barbary side. They were closely pursued even into the river by the victors, who, though they came for the purpose of _getting slaves_, gave no quarter, _their cruelty even prevailing over their avarice_. They made no prisoners, but put all to the sword without mercy. Horrible indeed was the carnage of the vanquished on this occasion, and as we were within two or three hundred yards of them, their cries and shrieks affected us extremely. We had got up our anchor at the beginning of the fray, and now stood close in to the spot, where the victors having followed the vanquished into the water, were continually dragging out and murdering those, whom by reason of their wounds they easily overtook. The very children, whom they took in great numbers, did not escape the massacre. Enraged at their barbarity, we fired our guns loaden with grape shot, and a volley of small arms among them, which effectually checked their ardour, and obliged them to retire to a distance from the shore; from whence a few round cannon shot soon removed them into the woods. The whole river was black over with the heads of the fugitives, who were swimming for their lives. These poor wretches, fearing _us_ as much as their conquerors, dived when we fired, and cried most lamentably for mercy. Having now effectually favoured their retreat, we stood backwards and forwards, and took up several that were wounded and tired. All whose wounds had disabled them from swimming, were either butchered or drowned, before we got up to them. With a justice and generosity, _never I believe before heard of among slavers_, we gave those their liberty whom we had taken up, setting them on shore on the Barbary side, among the poor residue of their companions, who had survived the slaughter of the morning." We shall make but two remarks on this horrid instance of African cruelty. It adds, first, a considerable weight to the statements that have been made; and confirms, secondly, the conclusions that were drawn in the preceding chapter. For if we even allow the right of capture to be just, and the principles of reparation and punishment to be applicable to the individuals of a community, yet would the former be unjust, and the latter inapplicable, in the present case. Every African war is a robbery; and we may add, to our former expression, when we said, "that thus have many thousands of men, in the most iniquitous manner, been sent into servitude," that we believe there are few of this order, who are not as much the examples of injustice, as the people that have been kidnapped; and who do not additionally convey, when we consider them as prisoners of war, an idea of the most complicated scene of murder. The order of _convicts_, as it exists almost solely among those princes, whose dominions are contiguous to the European factories, is from this circumstance so inconsiderable, when compared with either of the preceding, that we should not have mentioned it again, but that we were unwilling to omit any additional argument that occurred against it. It has been shewn already, that the punishment of slavery is inflicted from no other motive, than that of gratifying the _avarice_ of the prince, a confederation so detestable, as to be sufficient of itself to prove it to be unjust; and that it is so disproportionate, from its _nature_, to the offence, as to afford an additional proof of its injustice. We shall add now, as a second argument, its disproportion from its _continuance:_ and we shall derive a third from the consideration, that, in civil society, every violation of the laws of the community is an offence against the _state_[050]. Let us suppose then an African prince, disdaining for once the idea of emolument: let us suppose him for once inflamed with the love of his country, and resolving to punish from this principle alone, "that by exhibiting an example of terrour, he may preserve that _happiness of the publick_, which he is bound to secure and defend by the very nature of his contract; or, in other words, that he may answer the end of government." If actuated then by this principle, he should adjudge slavery to an offender, as a just punishment for his offence, for whose benefit must the convict labour? If it be answered, "for the benefit of the state," we allow that the punishment, in whatever light it is considered, will be found to be equitable: but if it be answered, "for the benefit of any _individual whom he pleases to appoint_," we deny it to be just. The state[051] alone is considered to have been injured, and as _injuries cannot possibly be transferred_, the state alone can justly receive the advantages of his labour. But if the African prince, when he thus condemns him to labour for the benefit of an _unoffended individual_, should at the same time sentence him to become his _property_; that is, if he should make the person and life of the convict at the absolute disposal of him, for whom he has sentenced him to labour; it is evident that, in addition to his former injustice, he is usurping a power, which no ruler or rulers of a state can possess, and which the great Creator of the universe never yet gave to any order whatever of created beings. That this reasoning is true, and that civilized nations have considered it as such, will be best testified by their practice. We may appeal here to that _slavery_, which is now adjudged to delinquents, as a punishment, among many of the states of Europe. These delinquents are sentenced to labour at the _oar_, to work in _mines_, and on _fortifications_, to cut and clear _rivers_, to make and repair _roads_, and to perform other works of national utility. They are employed, in short, in the _publick_ work; because, as the crimes they have committed are considered to have been crimes against the publick, no individual can justly receive the emoluments of their labour; and they are neither _sold_, nor made capable of being _transferred_, because no government whatsoever is invested with such a power. Thus then may that slavery, in which only the idea of _labour_ is included, be perfectly equitable, and the delinquent will always receive his punishment as a man; whereas in that, which additionally includes the idea of _property_, and to undergo which, the delinquent must previously change his nature, and become a _brute_; there is an inconsistency, which no arguments can reconcile, and a contradiction to every principle of nature, which a man need only to appeal to his own feelings immediately to evince. And we will venture to assert, from the united observations that have been made upon the subject, in opposition to any arguments that may be advanced, that there is scarcely one of those, who are called African convicts, on whom the prince has a right to inflict a punishment at all; and that there is no one whatever, whom he has a power of sentencing to labour for the benefit of an unoffended individual, and much less whom he has a right to sell. Having now fully examined the arguments of the _sellers_[052], and having made such additional remarks as were necessary, we have only to add, that we cannot sufficiently express our detestation at their conduct. Were the reader coolly to reflect upon the case of but _one_ of the unfortunate men, who are annually the victims of _avarice_, and consider his situation in life, as a father, an husband, or a friend, we are sure, that even on such a partial reflection, he must experience considerable pain. What then must be his feelings, when he is told, that, since the slave-trade began, [053]_nine millions_ of men have been torn from their dearest connections, and sold into slavery. If at this recital his indignation should arise, let him consider it as the genuine production of nature; that she recoiled at the horrid thought, and that she applied instantly a torch to his breast to kindle his resentment; and if, during his indignation, she should awaken the sigh of sympathy, or seduce the tear of commiseration from his eye, let him consider each as an additional argument against the iniquity of the _sellers_. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 048: The total annual exportation from Africa, is estimated here at 100,000 men, two thirds of whom are exported by the British merchants alone. This estimate is less than that which is usually made, and has been published. The author has been informed by disinterested people, who were in most of the West India islands during the late war, and who conversed with many of the most intelligent of the negroes, for the purpose of inquiring by what methods they had originally been reduced to slavery, that they did not find even two in twenty, who had been reduced to that situation, by any other means than those mentioned above. The author, desirous of a farther confirmation of this circumstance, stopped the press till he had written to another friend, who had resided twenty years in the West-Indies, and whose opinion he had not yet asked. The following is an extract from the answer. "I do not among many hundreds recollect to have seen but one or two slaves, of those imported from Africa, who had any scars to shew, that they had been in war. They are generally such as are kidnapped, or sold by their tyrants, after the destruction of a village. In short, I am firmly of opinion, that crimes and war together do not furnish one slave in an hundred of the numbers introduced into the European colonies. Of consequence the trade itself, were it possible to suppose convicts or prisoners of war to be justly sentenced to servitude, is accountable for ninety-nine in every hundred slaves, whom it supplies. It an insult to the publick, to attempt to palliate the method of procuring them."] [Footnote 049: The writer of the letter of which this is a faithful extract, and who was known to the author of the present Essay, was a long time on the African coast. He had once the misfortune to be shipwrecked there, and to be taken by the natives, who conveyed him and his companions a considerable way up into the country. The hardships which he underwent in the march, his treatment during his captivity, the scenes to which he was witness, while he resided among the inland Africans, as well as while in the African trade, gave occasion to a series of very interesting letters. These letters were sent to the author of the present Essay, with liberty to make what use of them he chose, by the gentleman to whom they were written.] [Footnote 050: Were this not the case, the government of a country could have no right to take cognizance of crimes, and punish them, but every individual, if injured, would have a right to punish the aggressor with his own hand, which is contrary to the notions of all civilized men, whether among the ancients or the moderns.] [Footnote 051: This same notion is entertained even by the African princes, who do not permit the person injured to revenge his injury, or to receive the convict as his slave. But if the very person who has been _injured_, does not possess him, much less ought any other person whatsoever.] [Footnote 052: There are instances on the African continent, of _parents_ selling their _children_. As the slaves of this description are so few, and are so irregularly obtained, we did not think it worth our while to consider them as forming an order; and, as God never gave the parent a power over his child to make him _miserable_, we trust that any farther mention of them will be unnecessary.] [Footnote 053: Abbè Raynal, Hist. Phil. vol. 4. P. 154.] * * * * * CHAP. IX. It remains only now to examine by what arguments those, who _receive_ or _purchase_ their fellow-creatures into slavery, defend the _commerce_. Their first plea is, "that they receive those with propriety, who are convicted of crimes, because they are delivered into their hands by _their own magistrates_." But what is this to you _receivers_? Have the unfortunate _convicts_ been guilty of injury to _you_? Have they broken _your_ treaties? Have they plundered _your_ ships? Have they carried _your_ wives and children into slavery, that _you_ should thus retaliate? Have they offended _you_ even by word or gesture? But if the African convicts are innocent with respect to you; if you have not even the shadow of a claim upon their persons; by what right do you receive them? "By the laws of the Africans," you will say; "by which it is positively allowed."--But can _laws_ alter the nature of vice? They may give it a sanction perhaps: it will still be immutably the same, and, though dressed in the outward habiliments of _honour_, will still be _intrinsically base_. But alas! you do not only attempt to defend yourselves by these arguments, but even dare to give your actions the appearance of lenity, and assume _merit_ from your _baseness_! and how first ought you particularly to blush, when you assert, "that prisoners of war are only purchased from the hands of their conquerors, _to deliver them from death_." Ridiculous defence! can the most credulous believe it? You entice the Africans to war; you foment their quarrels; you supply them with arms and ammunition, and all--from the _motives of benevolence_. Does a man set fire to an house, for the purpose of rescuing the inhabitants from the flames? But if they are only purchased, to _deliver them from death_; why, when they are delivered into your hands, as protectors, do you torture them with hunger? Why do you kill them with fatigue? Why does the whip deform their bodies, or the knife their limbs? Why do you sentence them to death? to a death, infinitely more excruciating than that from which you so kindly saved them? What answer do you make to this? for if you had not humanely preserved them from the hands of their conquerors, a quick death perhaps, and that in the space of a moment, had freed them from their pain: but on account of your _favour_ and _benevolence_, it is known, that they have lingered years in pain and agony, and have been sentenced, at last, to a dreadful death for the most insignificant offence. Neither can we allow the other argument to be true, on which you found your merit; "that you take them from their country for their own convenience; because Africa, scorched with incessant heat, and subject to the most violent rains and tempests, is unwholesome, and unfit to be inhabited." Preposterous men! do you thus judge from your own feelings? Do you thus judge from your own constitution and frame? But if you suppose that the Africans are incapable of enduring their own climate, because you cannot endure it yourselves; why do you receive them into slavery? Why do you not measure them here by the same standard? For if you are unable to bear hunger and thirst, chains and imprisonment, wounds and torture, why do you not suppose them incapable of enduring the same treatment? Thus then is your argument turned against yourselves. But consider the answer which the Scythians gave the �gyptians, when they contended about the antiquity of their original[054], "That nature, when she first distinguished countries by different degrees of heat and cold, tempered the bodies of animals, at the same instant, to endure the different situations: that as the climate of Scythia was severer than that of �gypt, so were the bodies of the Scythians harder, and as capable of enduring the severity of their atmosphere, as the �gyptians the temperateness of their own." But you may say perhaps, that, though they are capable of enduring their own climate, yet their situation is frequently uncomfortable, and even wretched: that Africa is infested with locusts, and insects of various kinds; that they settle in swarms upon the trees, destroy the verdure, consume the fruit, and deprive the inhabitants of their food. But the same answer may be applied as before; "that the same kind Providence, who tempered the body of the animal, tempered also the body of the tree; that he gave it a quality to recover the bite of the locust, which he sent; and to reassume, in a short interval of time, its former glory." And that such is the case experience has shewn: for the very trees that have been infested, and stripped of their bloom and verdure, so surprizingly quick is vegetation, appear in a few days, as if an insect had been utterly unknown. We may add to these observations, from the testimony of those who have written the History of Africa from their own inspection, that no country is more luxurious in prospects, none more fruitful, none more rich in herds and flocks, and none, where the comforts of life, can be gained with so little trouble. But you say again, as a confirmation of these your former arguments, (by which you would have it understood, that the Africans themselves are sensible of the goodness of your intentions) "that they do not appear to go with you against their will." Impudent and base assertion! Why then do you load them with chains? Why keep you your daily and nightly watches? But alas, as a farther, though a more melancholy proof, of the falsehood of your assertions, how many, when on board your ships, have put a period to their existence? How many have leaped into the sea? How many have pined to death, that, even at the expence of their lives, they might fly from your _benevolence_? Do you call them obstinate then, because they refuse your favours? Do you call them ungrateful, because they make you this return? How much rather ought you receivers to blush! How much rather ought you receivers to be considered as abandoned and execrable; who, when you usurp the dominion over those, who are as free and independent as yourselves, break the first law of justice, which ordains, "that no person shall do harm to another, without a previous provocation;" who offend against the dictates of nature, which commands, "that no just man shall be given or received into slavery against his own consent;" and who violate the very laws of the empire that you assume, by consigning your subjects to misery. Now, as a famous Heathen philosopher observes, from whose mouth you shall be convicted[055], "there is a considerable difference, whether an injury is done, during any perturbation of mind, which is generally short and momentary; or whether it is done with any previous meditation and design; for, those crimes, which proceed from any sudden commotion of the mind, are less than those, which are studied and prepared," how great and enormous are your crimes to be considered, who plan your African voyages at a time, when your reason is found, and your senses are awake; who coolly and deliberately equip your vessels; and who spend years, and even lives, in the traffick of _human liberty_. But if the arguments of those, who _sell_ or _deliver_ men into slavery, (as we have shewn before) and of those, who _receive_ or _purchase_ them, (as we have now shewn) are wholly false; it is evident that this _commerce_, is not only beyond the possibility of defence, but is justly to be accounted wicked, and justly impious, since it is contrary to the principles of _law_ and _government_, the dictates of _reason_, the common maxims of _equity_, the laws of _nature_, the admonitions of _conscience_, and, in short, the whole doctrine of _natural religion_. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 054: Justin, L. 2. C. 1.] [Footnote 055: Cicero de Officiis. L. 1. C. 8.] * * * * * PART III. THE SLAVERY of the AFRICANS IN THE EUROPEAN COLONIES. * * * * * CHAP. I. Having confined ourselves wholly, in the second part of this Essay, to the consideration of the _commerce_, we shall now proceed to the consideration of the _slavery_ that is founded upon it. As this slavery will be conspicuous in the _treatment_, which the unfortunate Africans uniformly undergo, when they are put into the hands of the _receivers_, we shall describe the manner in which they are accustomed to be used from this period. To place this in the clearest, and most conspicuous point of view, we shall throw a considerable part of our information on this head into the form of a narrative: we shall suppose ourselves, in short, on the continent of Africa, and relate a scene, which, from its agreement with unquestionable facts, might not unreasonably be presumed to have been presented to our view, had we been really there. And first, let us turn our eyes to the cloud of dust that is before us. It seems to advance rapidly, and, accompanied with dismal shrieks and yellings, to make the very air, that is above it, tremble as it rolls along. What can possibly be the cause? Let us inquire of that melancholy African, who seems to walk dejected near the shore; whose eyes are stedfastly fixed on the approaching object, and whose heart, if we can judge from the appearance of his countenance, must be greatly agitated. "Alas!" says the unhappy African, "the cloud that you see approaching, is a train of wretched slaves. They are going to the ships behind you. They are destined for the English colonies, and, if you will stay here but for a little time, you will see them pass. They were last night drawn up upon the plain which you see before you, where they were branded upon the breast with an _hot iron_; and when they had undergone the whole of the treatment which is customary on these occasions, and which I am informed that you Englishmen at home use to the _cattle_ which you buy, they were returned to their prison. As I have some dealings with the members of the factory which you see at a little distance, (though thanks to the Great Spirit, I never dealt in the _liberty_ of my fellow creatures) I gained admittance there. I learned the history of some of the unfortunate people, whom I saw confined, and will explain to you, if my eye should catch them as they pass, the real causes of their servitude." Scarcely were these words spoken, when they came distinctly into sight. They appeared to advance in a long column, but in a very irregular manner. There were three only in the front, and these were chained together. The rest that followed seemed to be chained by pairs, but by pressing forward, to avoid the lash of the drivers, the breadth of the column began to be greatly extended, and ten or more were observed abreast. While we were making these remarks, the intelligent African thus resumed his discourse. "The first three whom you observe, at the head of the train, to be chained together, are prisoners of war. As soon as the ships that are behind you arrived, the news was dispatched into the inland country; when one of the petty kings immediately assembled his subjects, and attacked a neighbouring tribe. The wretched people, though they were surprized, made a formidable resistance, as they resolved, almost all of them, rather to lose their lives, than survive their liberty. The person whom you see in the middle, is the father of the two young men, who are chained to him on each side. His wife and two of his children were killed in the attack, and his father being wounded, and, on account of his age, _incapable of servitude_, was left bleeding on the spot where this transaction happened." "With respect to those who are now passing us, and are immediately behind the former, I can give you no other intelligence, than that some of them, to about the number of thirty, were taken in the same skirmish. Their tribe was said to have been numerous before the attack; these however are _all that are left alive_. But with respect to the unhappy man, who is now opposite to us, and whom you may distinguish, as he is now looking back and wringing his hands in despair, I can inform you with more precision. He is an unfortunate convict. He lived only about five days journey from the factory. He went out with his king to hunt, and was one of his train; but, through too great an anxiety to afford his royal master diversion, he roused the game from the covert rather sooner than was expected. The king, exasperated at this circumstance, immediately sentenced him to slavery. His wife and children, fearing lest the tyrant should extend the punishment to themselves, _which is not unusual_, fled directly to the woods, where they were all devoured." "The people, whom you see close behind the unhappy convict, form a numerous body, and reach a considerable way. They speak a language, which no person in this part of Africa can understand, and their features, as you perceive, are so different from those of the rest, that they almost appear a distinct race of men. From this circumstance I recollect them. They are the subjects of a very distant prince, who agreed with the _slave merchants, for a quantity of spirituous liquors_, to furnish him with a stipulated number of slaves. He accordingly surrounded, and set fire to one of his own villages in the night, and seized these people, who were unfortunately the inhabitants, as they were escaping from the flames. I first saw them as the merchants were driving them in, about two days ago. They came in a large body, and were tied together at the neck with leather thongs, which permitted them to walk at the distance of about a yard from one another. Many of them were loaden with elephants teeth, which had been purchased at the same time. All of them had bags, made of skin, upon their shoulders; for as they were to travel, in their way from the great mountains, through barren sands and inhospitable woods for many days together, they were obliged to carry water and provisions with them. Notwithstanding this, many of them perished, some by hunger, but the greatest number by fatigue, as the place from whence they came, is at such an amazing distance from this, and the obstacles, from the nature of the country, so great, that the journey could scarcely be completed in seven moons." When this relation was finished, and we had been looking stedfastly for some time on the croud that was going by, we lost sight of that peculiarity of feature, which we had before remarked. We then discovered that the inhabitants of the depopulated village had all of them passed us, and that the part of the train, to which we were now opposite, was a numerous body of kidnapped people. Here we indulged our imagination. We thought we beheld in one of them a father, in another an husband, and in another a son, each of whom was forced from his various and tender connections, and without even the opportunity of bidding them adieu. While we were engaged in these and other melancholy reflections, the whole body of slaves had entirely passed us. We turned almost insensibly to look at them again, when we discovered an unhappy man at the end of the train, who could scarcely keep pace with the rest. His feet seemed to have suffered much from long and constant travelling, for he was limping painfully along. "This man," resumes the African. "has travelled a considerable way. He lived at a great distance from hence, and had a large family, for whom he was daily to provide. As he went out one night to a neighbouring spring, to procure water for his thirsty children, he was kidnapped by two _slave hunters_, who sold him in the morning to some country merchants for a _bar of iron_. These drove him with other slaves, procured almost in the same manner, to the nearest market, where the English merchants, to whom the train that has just now passed us belongs, purchased him and two others, by means of their travelling agents, for a _pistol_. His wife and children have been long waiting for his return. But he is gone for ever from their sight: and they must be now disconsolate, as they must be certain by his delay, that he has fallen into the hands of the _Christians_". "And now, as I have mentioned the name of _Christians_, a name, by which the Europeans distinguish themselves from us, I could wish to be informed of the meaning which such an appellation may convey. They consider themselves as _men_, but us unfortunate Africans, whom they term _Heathens_, as the _beasts_ that serve us. But ah! how different is the fact! What is _Christianity_, but a system of _murder_ and _oppression_? The cries and yells of the unfortunate people, who are now soon to embark for the regions of servitude, have already pierced my heart. Have you not heard me sigh, while we have been talking? Do you not see the tears that now trickle down my cheeks? and yet these hardened _Christians_ are unable to be moved at all: nay, they will scourge them amidst their groans, and even smile, while they are torturing them to death. Happy, happy Heathenism! which can detest the vices of Christianity, and feel for the distresses of mankind." "But" we reply, "You are totally mistaken: _Christianity_ is the most perfect and lovely of moral systems. It blesses even the hand of persecution itself, and returns good for evil. But the people against whom you so justly declaim; are not _Christians_. They are _infidels_. They are _monsters_. They are out of the common course of nature. Their countrymen at home are generous and brave. They support the sick, the lame, and the blind. They fly to the succour of the distressed. They have noble and stately buildings for the sole purpose of benevolence. They are in short, of all nations, the most remarkable for humanity and justice." "But why then," replies the honest African, "do they suffer this? Why is Africa a scene of blood and desolation? Why are her children wrested from her, to administer to the luxuries and greatness of those whom they never offended? And why are these dismal cries in vain?" "Alas!" we reply again, "can the cries and groans, with which the air now trembles, be heard across this extensive continent? Can the southern winds convey them to the ear of Britain? If they could reach the generous Englishman at home, they would pierce his heart, as they have already pierced your own. He would sympathize with you in your distress. He would be enraged at the conduct of his countrymen, and resist their tyranny."-- But here a shriek unusually loud, accompanied with a dreadful rattling of chains, interrupted the discourse. The wretched Africans were just about to embark: they had turned their face to their country, as if to take a last adieu, and, with arms uplifted to the sky, were making the very atmosphere resound with their prayers and imprecations. * * * * * CHAP. II. The foregoing scene, though it may be said to be imaginary, is strictly consistent with fact. It is a scene, to which the reader himself may have been witness, if he has ever visited the place, where it is supposed to lie; as no circumstance whatever has been inserted in it, for which the fullest and most undeniable evidence cannot be produced. We shall proceed now to describe, in general terms, the treatment which the wretched Africans undergo, from the time of their embarkation. When the African slaves, who are collected from various quarters, for the purposes of sale, are delivered over to the _receivers_, they are conducted in the manner above described to the ships. Their situation on board is beyond all description: for here they are crouded, hundreds of them together, into such a small compass, as would scarcely be thought sufficient to accommodate twenty, if considered as _free men_. This confinement soon produces an effect, that may be easily imagined. It generates a pestilential air, which, co-operating with, bad provisions, occasions such a sickness and mortality among them, that not less than _twenty thousand_[056] are generally taken off in every yearly transportation. Thus confined in a pestilential prison, and almost entirely excluded from the chearful face of day, it remains for the sickly survivors to linger out a miserable existence, till the voyage is finished. But are no farther evils to be expected in the interim particularly if we add to their already wretched situation the indignities that are daily offered them, and the regret which they must constantly feel, at being for ever forced from their connexions? These evils are but too apparent. Some of them have resolved, and, notwithstanding the threats of the _receivers_, have carried their resolves into execution, to starve themselves to death. Others, when they have been brought upon deck for air, if the least opportunity has offered, have leaped into the sea, and terminated their miseries at once. Others, in a fit of despair, have attempted to rise, and regain their liberty. But here what a scene of barbarity has constantly ensued. Some of them have been instantly killed upon the spot; some have been taken from the hold, have been bruised and mutilated in the most barbarous and shocking manner, and have been returned bleeding to their companions, as a sad example of resistance; while others, tied to the ropes of the ship, and mangled alternately with the whip and knife, have been left in that horrid situation, till they have expired. But this is not the only inhuman treatment which they are frequently obliged to undergo; for if there should be any necessity, from tempestuous weather, for lightening the ship; or if it should be presumed on the voyage, that the provisions will fall short before the port can be made, they are, many of them, thrown into the sea, without any compunction of mind on the part of the _receivers_, and without any other regret for their loss, than that which _avarice_ inspires. Wretched survivors! what must be their feelings at such a sight! how must they tremble to think of that servitude which is approaching, when the very _dogs_ of the _receivers_ have been retained on board, and preferred to their unoffending countrymen. But indeed so lightly are these unhappy people esteemed, that their lives have been even taken away upon speculation: there has been an instance, within the last five years, of _one hundred and thirty two_ of them being thrown into the sea, because it was supposed that, by this _trick_, their value could be recovered from the insurers[057]. But if the ship should arrive safe at its destined port, a circumstance which does not always happen, (for some have been blown up, and many lost) the wretched Africans do not find an alleviation of their sorrow. Here they are again exposed to sale. Here they are again subjected to the inspection of other brutal _receivers_, who examine and treat them with an inhumanity, at which even avarice should blush. To this mortifying circumstance is added another, that they are picked out, as the purchaser pleases, without any consideration whether the wife is separated from her husband, or the mother from her son: and if these cruel instances of separation should happen; if relations, when they find themselves about to be parted, should cling together; or if filial, conjugal, or parental affection, should detain them but a moment longer in each other's arms, than these _second receivers_ should think sufficient, the lash instantly severs them from their embraces. We cannot close our account of the treatment, which the wretched Africans undergo while in the hands of the _first receivers_, without mentioning an instance of wanton, barbarity, which happened some time ago; particularly as it may be inserted with propriety in the present place, and may give the reader a better idea of the cruelties, to which they are continually exposed, than any that he may have yet conceived. To avoid making a mistake, we shall take the liberty that has been allowed us, and transcribe it from a little manuscript account, with which we have been favoured by a person of the strictest integrity, and who was at that time in the place where the transaction happened[058]. "Not long after," says he, (continuing his account) "the perpetrator of a cruel murder, committed in open day light, in the most publick part of a town, which was the seat of government, escaped every other notice than the curses of a few of the more humane witnesses of his barbarity. An officer of a Guinea ship, who had the care of a number of new slaves, and was returning from the _sale-yard_ to the vessel with such as remained unsold; observed a stout fellow among them rather slow in his motions, which he therefore quickened with his rattan. The slave soon afterwards fell down, and was raised by the same application. Moving forwards a few yards, he fell down again; and this being taken as a proof of his sullen perverse spirit, the enraged officer furiously repeated his blows, till he expired at his feet. The brute coolly ordered some of the surviving slaves to carry the dead body to the water's side, where, without any ceremony or delay, being thrown into the sea, the tragedy was supposed to have been immediately finished by the not more inhuman sharks, with which the harbour then abounded. These voracious fish were supposed to have followed the vessels from the coast of Africa, in which ten thousand slaves were imported in that one season, being allured by the stench, and daily fed by the dead carcasses thrown overboard on the voyage." If the reader should observe here, that cattle are better protected in this country, than slaves in the colonies, his observation will be just. The beast which is driven to market, is defended by law from the goad of the driver; whereas the wretched African, though an human being, and whose feelings receive of course a double poignancy from the power of reflection, is unnoticed in this respect in the colonial code, and may be goaded and beaten till he expires. We may now take our leave of the _first receivers_. Their crime has been already estimated; and to reason farther upon it, would be unnecessary. For where the conduct of men is so manifestly impious, there can be no need, either of a single argument or a reflection; as every reader of sensibility will anticipate them in his own feelings. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 056: It is universally allowed, that at least one fifth of the exported negroes perish in the passage. This estimate is made from the time in which they are put on board, to the time when they are disposed of in the colonies. The French are supposed to lose the greatest number in the voyage, but particularly from this circumstance, because their slave ships are in general so very large, that many of the slaves that have been put on board sickly, die before the cargo can be completed.] [Footnote 057: This instance happened in a ship, commanded by one Collingwood. On the 29th of November, 1781, fifty-four of them were thrown into the sea alive; on the 30th forty-two more; and in about three days afterwards, twenty-six. Ten others, who were brought upon the deck for the same purpose, did not wait to be hand-cuffed, but bravely leaped into the sea, and shared the fate of their companions. It is a fact, that the people on board this ship had not been put upon short allowance. The excuse which this execrable wretch made on board for his conduct, was the following, "_that if the slaves, who were then sickly, had died a natural death, the loss would have been the owners; but as they were thrown alive into the sea, it would fall upon the underwriters_."] [Footnote 058: This gentleman is at present resident in England. The author of this Essay applied to him for some information on the treatment of slaves, so far as his own knowledge was concerned. He was so obliging as to furnish him with the written account alluded to, interspersed only with such instances, as he himself could undertake to answer for. The author, as he has never met with these instances before, and as they are of such high authority, intends to transcribe two or three of them, and insert them in the fourth chapter. They will be found in inverted commas.] * * * * * CHAP. III. When the wretched Africans are thus put into the hands of the _second receivers_, they are conveyed to the plantations, where they are totally considered as _cattle_, or _beasts of labour_; their very children, if any should be born to them in that situation, being previously destined to the condition of their parents. But here a question arises, which, will interrupt the thread of the narration for a little time, viz. how far their descendants, who compose the fifth order of slaves, are justly reduced to servitude, and upon what principles the _receivers_ defend their conduct. Authors have been at great pains to inquire, why, in the ancient servitude, the child has uniformly followed the condition of the mother. But we conceive that they would have saved themselves much trouble, and have done themselves more credit, if instead of, endeavouring to reconcile the custom with _heathen_ notions, or their own laboured conjectures, they had shewn its inconsistency with reason and nature, and its repugnancy to common justice. Suffice it to say, that the whole theory of the ancients, with respect to the descendants slaves, may be reduced to this principle, "that as the parents, by becoming _property_, were wholly considered as _cattle_, their children, like _the progeny of cattle_, inherited their parental lot." Such also is the excuse of the tyrannical _receivers_ before-mentioned. They allege, that they have purchased the parents, that they can sell and dispose of them as they please, that they possess them under the same laws and limitations as their cattle, and that their children, like the progeny of these, become their property _by birth_. But the absurdity of the argument will immediately appear. It depends wholly on the supposition, that the parents are _brutes_. If they are _brutes_, we shall instantly cease to contend: if they are _men_, which we think it not difficult to prove, the argument must immediately fall, as we have already shewn that there cannot justly be any _property_ whatever in the _human species_. It has appeared also, in the second part of this Essay, that as nature made, every man's body and mind _his own_, so no _just_ person can be reduced to slavery against his own _consent_. Do the unfortunate offspring ever _consent_ to be slaves?--They are slaves from their birth.--Are they _guilty_ of crimes, that they lose their freedom?--They are slaves when they cannot speak.--Are their _parents_ abandoned? The crimes of the parents cannot justly extend to the children. Thus then must the tyrannical _receivers_, who presume to sentence the children of slaves to servitude, if they mean to dispute upon the justice of their cause; either allow them to have been _brutes_ from their birth, or to have been guilty of crimes at a time, when they were incapable of offending the very _King of Kings_. * * * * * CHAP. IV. But to return to the narration. When the wretched Africans are conveyed to the plantations, they are considered as _beasts of labour_, and are put to their respective work. Having led, in their own country, a life of indolence and ease, where the earth brings forth spontaneously the comforts of life, and spares frequently the toil and trouble of cultivation, they can hardly be expected to endure the drudgeries of servitude. Calculations are accordingly made upon their lives. It is conjectured, that if three in four survive what is called the _seasoning_, the bargain is highly favourable. This seasoning is said to expire, when the two first years of their servitude are completed: It is the time which an African must take to be so accustomed to the colony, as to be able to endure the common labour of a plantation, and to be put into the _gang_. At the end of this period the calculations become verified, _twenty thousand_[059] of those, who are annually imported, dying before the seasoning is over. This is surely an horrid and awful consideration: and thus does it appear, (and let it be remembered, that it is the lowest calculation that has been ever made upon the subject) that out of every annual supply that is shipped from the coast of Africa, _forty thousand lives_[060] are regularly expended, even before it can be said, that there is really any additional stock for the colonies. When the seasoning is over, and the survivors are thus enabled to endure the usual task of slaves, they are considered as real and substantial supplies. From this period[061] therefore we shall describe their situation. They are summoned at five in the morning to begin their work. This work may be divided into two kinds, the culture of the fields, and the collection of grass for cattle. The last is the most laborious and intolerable employment; as the grass can only be collected blade by blade, and is to be fetched frequently twice a day at a considerable distance from the plantation. In these two occupations they are jointly taken up, with no other intermission than that of taking their subsistence twice, till nine at night. They then separate for their respective huts, when they gather sticks, prepare their supper, and attend their families. This employs them till midnight, when they go to rest. Such is their daily way of life for rather more than half the year. They are _sixteen_ hours, including two intervals at meals, in the service of their masters: they are employed _three_ afterwards in their own necessary concerns; _five_ only remain for sleep, and their day is finished. During the remaining portion of the year, or the time of crop, the nature, as well as the time of their employment, is considerably changed. The whole gang is generally divided into two or three bodies. One of these, besides the ordinary labour of the day, is kept in turn at the mills, that are constantly going, during the whole of the night. This is a dreadful encroachment upon their time of rest, which was before too short to permit them perfectly to refresh their wearied limbs, and actually reduces their sleep, as long as this season lasts, to about three hours and an half a night, upon a moderate computation[062]. Those who can keep their eyes open during their nightly labour, and are willing to resist the drowsiness that is continually coming upon them, are presently worn out; while some of those, who are overcome, and who feed the mill between asleep and awake, suffer, for thus obeying the calls of nature, by the loss of a limb[063]. In this manner they go on, with little or no respite from their work, till the crop season is over, when the year (from the time of our first description) is completed. To support[064] a life of such unparalleled drudgery, we should at least expect: to find, that they were comfortably clothed, and plentifully fed. But sad reverse! they have scarcely a covering to defend themselves against the inclemency of the night. Their provisions are frequently bad, and are always dealt out to them with such a sparing hand, that the means of a bare livelihood are not placed within the reach of four out of five of these unhappy people. It is a fact, that many of the disorders of slaves are contracted from eating the vegetables, which their little spots produce, before they are sufficiently ripe: a clear indication, that the calls of hunger are frequently so pressing, as not to suffer them to wait, till they can really enjoy them. This, situation, of a want of the common necessaries of life, added to that of hard and continual labour, must be sufficiently painful of itself. How then must the pain be sharpened, if it be accompanied with severity! if an unfortunate slave does not come into the field exactly at the appointed time, if, drooping with sickness or fatigue, he appears to work unwillingly, or if the bundle of grass that he has been collecting, appears too small in the eye of the overseer, he is equally sure of experiencing the whip. This instrument erases the skin, and cuts out small portions of the flesh at almost every stroke; and is so frequently applied, that the smack of it is all day long in the ears of those, who are in the vicinity of the plantations. This severity of masters, or managers, to their slaves, which is considered only as common discipline, is attended with bad effects. It enables them to behold instances of cruelty without commiseration, and to be guilty of them without remorse. Hence those many acts of deliberate mutilation, that have taken place on the slightest occasions: hence those many acts of inferiour, though shocking, barbarity, that have taken place without any occasion at all: the very slitting[065] of ears has been considered as an operation, so perfectly devoid of pain, as to have been performed for no other reason than that for which a brand is set upon cattle, _as a mark of property_. But this is not the only effect, which this severity produces: for while it hardens their hearts, and makes them insensible of the misery of their fellow-creatures, it begets a turn for wanton cruelty. As a proof of this, we shall mention one, among the many instances that occur, where ingenuity has been exerted in contriving modes of torture. "An iron coffin, with holes in it, was kept by a certain colonist, as an auxiliary to the lash. In this the poor victim of the master's resentment was inclosed, and placed sufficiently near a fire, to occasion extreme pain, and consequently shrieks and groans, until the revenge of the master was satiated, without any other inconvenience on his part, than a temporary suspension of the slave's labour. Had he been flogged to death, or his limbs mutilated, the interest of the brutal tyrant would have suffered a more irreparable loss. "In mentioning, this instance, we do not mean to insinuate, that it is common. We know that it was reprobated by many. All that we would infer from it is, that where men are habituated to a system of severity, they become _wantonly cruel_, and that the mere toleration of such an instrument of torture, in any country, is a clear indication, _that this wretched class of men do not there enjoy the protection of any laws, that may be pretended to have been enacted in their favour_." Such then is the general situation of the unfortunate Africans. They are beaten and tortured at discretion. They are badly clothed. They are miserably fed. Their drudgery is intense and incessant and their rest short. For scarcely are their heads reclined, scarcely have their bodies a respite from the labour of the day, or the cruel hand of the overseer, but they are summoned to renew their sorrows. In this manner they go on from year to year, in a state of the lowest degradation, without a single law to protect them, without the possibility of redress, without a hope that their situation will be changed, unless death should terminate the scene. Having described the general situation of these unfortunate people, we shall now take notice of the common consequences that are found to attend it, and relate them separately, as they result either from long and painful _labour_, a _want_ of the common necessaries of life, or continual _severity_. Oppressed by a daily task of such immoderate labour as human nature is utterly unable to perform, many of them run away from their masters. They fly to the recesses of the mountains, where they choose rather to live upon any thing that the soil affords them, nay, the very soil itself, than return to that _happy situation_, which is represented by the _receivers_, as the condition of a slave. It sometimes happens, that the manager of a mountain plantation, falls in with one of these; he immediately seizes him, and threatens to carry him to his former master, unless he will consent to live on the mountain and cultivate his ground. When his plantation is put in order, he carries the delinquent home, abandons him to all the suggestions of despotick rage, and accepts a reward for his _honesty_. The unhappy wretch is chained, scourged, tortured; and all this, because he obeyed the dictates of nature, and wanted to be free. And who is there, that would not have done the same thing, in the same situation? Who is there, that has once known the charms of liberty; that would not fly from despotism? And yet, by the impious laws of the _receivers_, the absence[066] of six months from the lash of tyranny is--_death_. But this law is even mild, when compared with another against the same offence, which was in force sometime ago, and which we fear is even now in force, in some of those colonies which this account of the treatment comprehends. "Advertisements have frequently appeared there, offering a reward for the apprehending of fugitive slaves either alive or _dead_. The following instance was given us by a person of unquestionable veracity, under whose own observation it fell. As he was travelling in one of the colonies alluded to, he observed some people in pursuit of a poor wretch, who was seeking in the wilderness an asylum from his labours. He heard the discharge of a gun, and soon afterwards stopping at an house for refreshment, the head of the fugitive, still reeking with blood, was brought in and laid upon a table with exultation. The production of such a trophy was the proof _required by law_ to entitle the heroes to their reward." Now reader determine if you can, who were the most execrable; the rulers of the state in authorizing murder, or the people in being bribed to commit it. This is one of the common consequences of that immoderate share of labour, which is imposed upon them; nor is that, which is the result of a scanty allowance of food, less to be lamented. The wretched African is often so deeply pierced by the excruciating fangs of hunger, as almost to be driven to despair. What is he to do in such a trying situation? Let him apply to the _receivers_. Alas! the majesty of _receivership_ is too sacred for the appeal, and the intrusion would be fatal. Thus attacked on the one hand, and shut out from every possibility of relief on the other, he has only the choice of being starved, or of relieving his necessities by taking a small portion of the fruits of his own labour. Horrid crime! to be found eating the cane, which probably his own hands have planted, and to be eating it, because his necessities were pressing! This crime however is of such a magnitude, as always to be accompanied with the whip; and so unmercifully has it been applied on such an occasion, as to have been the cause, in wet weather, of the delinquent's death. But the smart of the whip has not been the only pain that the wretched Africans have experienced. Any thing that passion could seize, and convert into an instrument of punishment, has been used; and, horrid to relate! the very knife has not been overlooked in the fit of phrenzy. Ears have been slit, eyes have been beaten out, and bones have been broken; and so frequently has this been the case, that it has been a matter of constant lamentation with disinterested people, who out of curiosity have attended the markets[067] to which these unhappy people weekly resort, that they have not been able to turn their eyes on any group of them whatever, but they have beheld these inhuman marks of passion, despotism, and caprice. But these instances of barbarity have not been able to deter them from similar proceedings. And indeed, how can it be expected that they should? They have still the same appetite to be satisfied as before, and to drive them to desperation. They creep out clandestinely by night, and go in search of food into their master's, or some neighbouring plantation. But here they are almost equally sure of suffering. The watchman, who will be punished himself, if he neglects his duty, frequently seizes them in the fact. No excuse or intreaty will avail; he must punish them for an example, and he must punish them, not with a stick, nor with a whip, but with a cutlass. Thus it happens, that these unhappy slaves, if they are taken, are either sent away mangled in a barbarous manner, or are killed upon the spot. We may now mention the consequences of the severity. The wretched Africans, daily subjected to the lash, and unmercifully whipt and beaten on every trifling occasion, have been found to resist their opposers. Unpardonable crime! that they should have the feelings of nature! that their breasts should glow with resentment on an injury! that they should be so far overcome, as to resist those, whom _they are under no obligations to obey_, and whose only title to their services consists in _a violation of the rights of men_! What has been the consequence?--But here let us spare the feelings of the reader, (we wish we could spare our own) and let us only say, without a recital of the cruelty, _that they have been murdered at the discretion of their masters_. For let the reader observe, that the life of an African is only valued at a price, that would scarcely purchase an horse; that the master has a power of murdering his slave, if he pays but a trifling fine; and that the murder must be attended with uncommon circumstances of horrour, if it even produces an inquiry. Immortal Alfred! father of our invaluable constitution! parent of the civil blessings we enjoy! how ought thy laws to excite our love and veneration, who hast forbidden us, thy posterity, to tremble at the frown of tyrants! how ought they to perpetuate thy name, as venerable, to the remotest ages, who has secured, even to the meanest servant, a fair and impartial trial! How much does nature approve thy laws, as consistent with her own feelings, while she absolutely turns pale, trembles, and recoils, at the institutions of these _receivers_! Execrable men! you do not murder the horse, on which you only ride; you do not mutilate the cow, which only affords you her milk; you do not torture the dog, which is but a partial servant of your pleasures: but these unfortunate men, from whom, you derive your very pleasures and your fortunes, you torture, mutilate, murder at discretion! Sleep then you _receivers_, if you can, while you scarcely allow these unfortunate people to rest at all! feast if you can, and indulge your genius, while you daily apply to these unfortunate people the stings of severity and hunger! exult in riches, at which even avarice ought to shudder, and, which humanity must detest! * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 059: One third of the whole number imported, is often computed to be lost in the seasoning, which, in round numbers, will be 27000. The loss in the seasoning depends, in a great measure, on two circumstances, viz. on the number of what are called refuse slaves that are imported, and on the quantity of new land in the colony. In the French windward islands of Martinico, and Guadaloupe, which are cleared and highly cultivated, and in our old small islands, one fourth, including refuse slaves, is considered as a general proportion. But in St. Domingo, where there is a great deal of new land annually taken into culture, and in other colonies in the same situation, the general proportion, including refuse slaves, is found to be one third. This therefore is a lower estimate than the former, and reduces the number to about 23000. We may observe, that this is the common estimate, but we have reduced it to 20000 to make it free from all objection.] [Footnote 060: Including the number that perish on the voyage, and in the seasoning. It is generally thought that not half the number purchased can be considered as an additional stock, and of course that 50,000 are consumed within the first two years from their embarkation.] [Footnote 061: That part of the account, that has been hitherto given, extends to all the Europeans and their colonists, who are concerned in this horrid practice. But we are sorry that we must now make a distinction, and confine the remaining part, of it to the colonists of the British West India islands, and to those of the southern provinces of North America. As the employment of slaves is different in the two parts of the world last mentioned, we shall content ourselves with describing it, as it exists in one of them, and we shall afterwards annex such treatment and such consequences as are applicable to both. We have only to add, that the reader must not consider our account as _universally_, but only _generally_, true.] [Footnote 062: This computation is made on a supposition, that the gang is divided into three bodies; we call it therefore moderate, because the gang is frequently divided into two bodies, which must therefore set up alternately _every other night_.] [Footnote 063: An hand or arm being frequently ground off.] [Footnote 064: The reader will scarcely believe it, but it is a fact, that a slave's annual allowance from his master, for provisions, clothing, medicines when sick, &c. is limited, upon an average, to thirty shillings.] [Footnote 065: "A boy having received six slaves as a present from his father, immediately slit their ears, and for the following reason, that as his father was a whimsical man, he might claim them again, unless they were marked." We do not mention this instance as a confirmation of the passage to which it is annexed, but only to shew, how cautious we ought to be in giving credit to what may be advanced in any work written in defence of slavery, by any native of the colonies: for being trained up to scenes of cruelty from his cradle, he may, consistently with his own feelings, represent that treatment as mild, at which we, who have never been used to see them, should absolutely shudder.] [Footnote 066: In this case he is considered as a criminal against the state. The _marshal_, an officer answering to our sheriff, superintends his execution, and the master receives the value of the slave from the publick treasury. We may observe here, that in all cases where the delinquent is a criminal of the state, he is executed, and his value is received in the same manner; He is tried and condemned by two or three justices of the peace, and without any intervention of a _jury_.] [Footnote 067: Particularly in Jamaica. These observations were made by disinterested people, who were there for three or four years during the late war.] * * * * * CHAP. V. Some people may suppose, from the melancholy account that has been given in the preceding chapter, that we have been absolutely dealing in romance: that the scene exhibited is rather a dreary picture of the imagination, than a representation of fact. Would to heaven, for the honour of human nature, that this were really the case! We wish we could say, that we have no testimony to produce for any of our assertions, and that our description of the general treatment of slaves has been greatly exaggerated. But the _receivers_, notwithstanding the ample and disinterested evidence, that can be brought on the occasion, do not admit the description to be true. They say first, "that if the slavery were such as has been now represented, no human being could possibly support it long." Melancholy truth! the wretched Africans generally perish in their prime. Let them reflect upon the prodigious supplies that are _annually_ required, and their argument will be nothing less than a confession, that the slavery has been justly depicted. They appeal next to every man's own reason, and desire him to think seriously, whether "self-interest will not always restrain the master from acts of cruelty to the slave, and whether such accounts therefore, as the foregoing, do not contain within themselves, their own refutation." We answer, "No." For if this restraining principle be as powerful as it is imagined, why does not the general conduct of men afford us a better picture? What is imprudence, or what is vice, but a departure from every man's own interest, and yet these are the characteristicks of more than half the world?-- --But, to come more closely to the present case, _self-interest_ will be found but a weak barrier against the sallies of _passion_: particularly where it has been daily indulged in its greatest latitude, and there are no laws to restrain its calamitous effects. If the observation be true, that passion is a short madness, then it is evident that self-interest, and every other consideration, must be lost, so long as it continues. We cannot have a stronger instance of this, than in a circumstance related in the second part of this Essay, "that though the Africans have gone to war for the express purpose of procuring slaves, yet so great has been their resentment at the resistance they have frequently found, that their _passion_ has entirely got the better of their _interest_, and they have murdered all without any discrimination, either of age or sex." Such may be presumed to be the case with the no less savage _receivers_. Impressed with the most haughty and tyrannical notions, easily provoked, accustomed to indulge their anger, and, above all, habituated to scenes of cruelty, and unawed by the fear of laws, they will hardly be found to be exempt from the common failings of human nature, and to spare an unlucky slave, at a time when men of cooler temper, and better regulated passions, are so frequently blind to their own interest. But if _passion_ may be supposed to be generally more than a ballance for _interest_, how must the scale be turned in favour of the melancholy picture exhibited, when we reflect that _self-preservation_ additionally steps in, and demands the most _rigorous severity_. For when we consider that where there is _one_ master, there are _fifty_ slaves; that the latter have been all forcibly torn from their country, and are retained in their present situation by violence; that they are perpetually at war in their hearts with their oppressors, and are continually cherishing the seeds of revenge; it is evident that even _avarice_ herself, however cool and deliberate, however free from passion and caprice, must sacrifice her own sordid feelings, and adopt a system of tyranny and oppression, which it must be ruinous to pursue. Thus then, if no picture had been drawn of the situation of slaves, and it had been left solely to every man's sober judgment to determine, what it might probably be, he would conclude, that if the situation were justly described, the page must be frequently stained with acts of uncommon cruelty. It remains only to make a reply to an objection, that is usually advanced against particular instances of cruelty to slaves, as recorded by various writers. It is said that "some of these are so inconceivably, and beyond all example inhuman, that their very excess above the common measure of cruelty shews them at once exaggerated and incredible." But their credibility shall be estimated by a supposition. Let us suppose that the following instance had been recorded by a writer of the highest reputation, "that the master of a ship, bound to the western colonies with slaves, on a presumption that many of them would die, selected an _hundred and thirty two_ of the most sickly, and ordered them to be thrown into the sea, to recover their value from the insurers, and, above all, that the fatal order was put into execution." What would the reader have thought on the occasion? Would he have believed the fact? It would have surely staggered his faith; because he could never have heard that any _one_ man ever was, and could never have supposed that any _one_ man ever could be, guilty of the murder of _such a number_ of his fellow creatures. But when he is informed that such a fact as this came before a court[068] of justice in this very country; that it happened within the last five years; that hundreds can come forwards and say, that they heard the melancholy evidence with tears; what bounds is he to place to his belief? The great God, who looks down upon all his creatures with the same impartial eye, seems to have infatuated the parties concerned, that they might bring the horrid circumstance to light, that it might be recorded in the annals of a publick court, as an authentick specimen of the treatment which the unfortunate Africans undergo, and at the same time, as an argument to shew, that there is no species of cruelty, that is recorded to have been exercised upon these wretched people, so enormous that it may not _readily be believed_. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 068: The action was brought by the owners against the underwriters, to recover the value of the _murdered_ slaves. It was tried at Guildhall.] * * * * * CHAP. VI. If the treatment then, as before described, is confirmed by reason, and the great credit that is due to disinterested writers on the subject; if the unfortunate Africans are used, as if their flesh were stone, and their vitals brass; by what arguments do you _receivers_ defend your conduct? You say that a great part of your savage treatment consists in punishment for real offences, and frequently for such offences, as all civilized nations have concurred in punishing. The first charge that you exhibit against them is specifick, it is that of _theft_. But how much rather ought you _receivers_ to blush, who reduce them to such a situation! who reduce them to the dreadful alternative, that they must either _steal_ or _perish_! How much rather ought you _receivers_ to be considered as _robbers_ yourselves, who cause these unfortunate people to be _stolen_! And how much greater is your crime, who are _robbers of human liberty_! The next charge which you exhibit against them, is general, it is that of _rebellion_; a crime of such a latitude, that you can impose it upon almost every action, and of such a nature, that you always annex to it the most excruciating pain. But what a contradiction is this to common sense! Have the wretched Africans formally resigned their freedom? Have you any other claim upon their obedience, than that of force? If then they are your subjects, you violate the laws of government, by making them unhappy. But if they are not your subjects, then, even though they should resist your proceedings, they are not _rebellious_. But what do you say to that long catalogue of offences, which you punish, and of which no people but yourselves take cognizance at all? You say that the wisdom of legislation has inserted it in the colonial laws, and that you punish by authority. But do you allude to that execrable code, that _authorises murder_? that tempts an unoffended person to kill the slave, that abhors and flies your service? that delegates a power, which no host of men, which not all the world, can possess?-- Or,--What do you say to that daily unmerited severity, which you consider only as common discipline? Here you say that the Africans are vicious, that they are all of them ill-disposed, that you must of necessity be severe. But can they be well-disposed to their oppressors? In their own country they were just, generous, hospitable: qualities, which all the African historians allow them eminently to possess. If then they are vicious, they must have contracted many of their vices from yourselves; and as to their own native vices, if any have been imported with them, are they not amiable, when compared with yours? Thus then do the excuses, which have been hitherto made by the _receivers_, force a relation of such circumstances, as makes their conduct totally inexcusable, and, instead of diminishing at all, highly aggravates their guilt. * * * * * CHAP. VII. We come now to that other system of reasoning, which is always applied, when the former is confuted; "that the Africans are an inferiour link of the chain of nature, and are made for slavery." This assertion is proved by two arguments; the first of which was advanced also by the ancients, and is drawn from the _inferiority of their capacities_. Let us allow then for a moment, that they appear to have no parts, that they appear to be void of understanding. And is this wonderful, when, you _receivers_ depress their senses by hunger? Is this wonderful, when by incessant labour, the continual application of the lash, and the most inhuman treatment that imagination can devise, you overwhelm their genius, and hinder it from breaking forth?--No,--You confound their abilities by the severity of their servitude: for as a spark of fire, if crushed by too great a weight of incumbent fuel, cannot be blown into a flame, but suddenly expires, so the human mind, if depressed by rigorous servitude, cannot be excited to a display of those faculties, which might otherwise have shone with the brightest lustre. Neither is it wonderful in another point of view. For what is it that awakens the abilities of men, and distinguishes them from the common herd? Is it not often the amiable hope of becoming serviceable to individuals, or the state? Is it not often the hope of riches, or of power? Is it not frequently the hope of temporary honours, or a lasting fame? These principles have all a wonderful effect upon the mind. They call upon it to exert its faculties, and bring those talents to the publick view, which had otherwise been concealed. But the unfortunate Africans have no such incitements as these, that they should shew their genius. They have no hope of riches, power, honours, fame. They have no hope but this, that their miseries will be soon terminated by death. And here we cannot but censure and expose the murmurings of the unthinking and the gay; who, going on in a continual round of pleasure and prosperity, repine at the will of Providence, as exhibited in the shortness of human duration. But let a weak and infirm old age overtake them: let them experience calamities: let them feel but half the miseries which the wretched Africans undergo, and they will praise the goodness of Providence, who hath made them mortal; who hath prescribed certain ordinary bounds to the life of man; and who, by such a limitation, hath given all men this comfortable hope, that however persecuted in life, a time will come, in the common course of nature, when their sufferings will have an end. Such then is the nature of this servitude, that we can hardly expect to find in those, who undergo it, even the glimpse of genius. For if their minds are in a continual state of depression, and if they have no expectations in life to awaken their abilities, and make them eminent, we cannot be surprized if a sullen gloomy stupidity should be the leading mark in their character; or if they should appear inferiour to those, who do not only enjoy the invaluable blessings of freedom, but have every prospect before their eyes, that can allure them to exert their faculties. Now, if to these considerations we add, that the wretched Africans are torn from their country in a state of nature, and that in general, as long as their slavery continues, every obstacle is placed in the way of their improvement, we shall have a sufficient answer to any argument that may be drawn from the inferiority of their capacities. It appears then, from the circumstances that have been mentioned, that to form a true judgment of the abilities of these unfortunate people, we must either take a general view of them before their slavery commences, or confine our attention to such, as, after it has commenced, have had any opportunity given them of shewing their genius either in arts or letters. If, upon such a fair and impartial view, there should be any reason to suppose, that they are at all inferiour to others in the same situation, the argument will then gain some of that weight and importance, which it wants at present. In their own country, where we are to see them first, we must expect that the prospect will be unfavourable. They are mostly in a savage state. Their powers of mind are limited to few objects. Their ideas are consequently few. It appears, however, that they follow the same mode of life, and exercise the same arts, as the ancestors of those very Europeans, who boast of their great superiority, are described to have done in the same uncultivated state. This appears from the Nubian's Geography, the writings of Leo, the Moor, and all the subsequent histories, which those, who have visited the African continent, have written from their own inspection. Hence three conclusions; that their abilities are sufficient for their situation;--that they are as great, as those of other people have been, in the same stage of society;--and that they are as great as those of any civilized people whatever, when the degree of the barbarism of the one is drawn into a comparison with that of the civilization of the other. Let us now follow them to the colonies. They are carried over in the unfavourable situation described. It is observed here, that though their abilities cannot be estimated high from a want of cultivation, they are yet various, and that they vary in proportion as the nation, from which they have been brought, has advanced more or less in the scale of social life. This observation, which is so frequently made, is of great importance: for if their abilities expand in proportion to the improvement of their state, it is a clear indication, that if they were equally improved, they would be equally ingenious. But here, before we consider any opportunities that may be afforded them, let it be remembered that even their most polished situation may be called barbarous, and that this circumstance, should they appear less docile than others, may be considered as a sufficient answer to any objection that may be made to their capacities. Notwithstanding this, when they are put to the mechanical arts, they do not discover a want of ingenuity. They attain them in as short a time as the Europeans, and arrive at a degree of excellence equal to that of their teachers. This is a fact, almost universally known, and affords us this proof, that having learned with facility such of the mechanical arts, as they have been taught, they are capable of attaining any other, at least, of the same class, if they should receive but the same instruction. With respect to the liberal arts, their proficiency is certainly less; but not less in proportion to their time and opportunity of study; not less, because they are less capable of attaining them, but because they have seldom or ever an opportunity of learning them at all. It is yet extraordinary that their talents appear, even in some of these sciences, in which they are totally uninstructed. Their abilities in musick are such, as to have been generally noticed. They play frequently upon a variety of instruments, without any other assistance than their own ingenuity. They have also tunes of their own composition. Some of these have been imported among us; are now in use; and are admired for their sprightliness and ease, though the ungenerous and prejudiced importer has concealed their original. Neither are their talents in poetry less conspicuous. Every occurrence, if their spirits are not too greatly depressed, is turned into a song. These songs are said to be incoherent and nonsensical. But this proceeds principally from two causes, an improper conjunction of words, arising from an ignorance of the language in which they compose; and a wildness of thought, arising from the different manner, in which the organs of rude and civilized people will be struck by the same object. And as to their want of harmony and rhyme, which is the last objection, the difference of pronunciation is the cause. Upon the whole, as they are perfectly consistent with their own ideas, and are strictly musical as pronounced by themselves, they afford us as high a proof of their poetical powers, as the works of the most acknowledged poets. But where these impediments have been removed, where they have received an education, and have known and pronounced the language with propriety, these defects have vanished, and their productions have been less objectionable. For a proof of this, we appeal to the writings of an African girl[069], who made no contemptible appearance in this species of composition. She was kidnapped when only eight years old, and, in the year 1761, was transported to America, where she was sold with other slaves. She had no school education there, but receiving some little instruction from the family, with whom she was so fortunate as to live, she obtained such a knowledge of the English language within sixteen months from the time of her arrival, as to be able to speak it and read it to the astonishment of those who heard her. She soon afterwards learned to write, and, having a great inclination to learn the Latin tongue, she was indulged by her master, and made a progress. Her Poetical works were published with his permission, in the year 1773. They contain thirty-eight pieces on different subjects. We shall beg leave to make a short extract from two or three of them, for the observation of the reader. _From an Hymn to the Evening_[070]. "Fill'd with the praise of him who gives the light, And draws the sable curtains of the night, Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind, At morn to wake more heav'nly and refin'd; So shall the labours of the day begin, More pure and guarded from the snares of sin. ----&c. &c." * * * * * _From an Hymn to the Morning_. "Aurora hail! and all the thousand dies, That deck thy progress through the vaulted skies! The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays, On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays. Harmonious lays the feather'd race resume, Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume. ----&c. &c." * * * * * _From Thoughts on Imagination_. "Now here, now there, the roving _fancy_ flies, Till some lov'd object strikes her wand'ring eyes, Whose silken fetters all the senses bind, And soft captivity involves the mind. "_Imagination!_ who can sing thy force, Or who describe the swiftness of thy course? Soaring through air to find the bright abode, Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God, We on thy pinions can surpass the wind, And leave the rolling universe behind: From star to star the mental opticks rove, Measure the skies, and range the realms above. There in one view we grasp the mighty whole, Or with new worlds amaze th' unbounded soul. ----&c. &c." * * * * * Such is the poetry which we produce as a proof of our assertions. How far it has succeeded, the reader may by this time have determined in his own mind. We shall therefore only beg leave to accompany it with this observation, that if the authoress _was designed for slavery_, (as the argument must confess) the greater part of the inhabitants of Britain must lose their claim to freedom. To this poetry we shall only add, as a farther proof of their abilities, the Prose compositions of Ignatius Sancho, who received some little education. His letters are too well known, to make any extract, or indeed any farther mention of him, necessary. If other examples of African genius should be required, suffice it to say, that they can be produced in abundance; and that if we were allowed to enumerate instances of African gratitude, patience, fidelity, honour, as so many instances of good sense, and a sound understanding, we fear that thousands of the enlightened Europeans would have occasion to blush. But an objection will be made here, that the two persons whom we have particularized by name, are prodigies, and that if we were to live for many years, we should scarcely meet with two other Africans of the same description. But we reply, that considering their situation as before described, two persons, above mediocrity in the literary way, are as many as can be expected within a certain period of years; and farther, that if these are prodigies, they are only such prodigies as every day would produce, if they had the same opportunities of acquiring knowledge as other people, and the same expectations in life to excite their genius. This has been constantly and solemnly asserted by the pious Benezet[071], whom we have mentioned before, as having devoted a considerable part of his time to their instruction. This great man, for we cannot but mention him with veneration, had a better opportunity of knowing them than any person whatever, and he always uniformly declared, that he could never find a difference between their capacities and those of other people; that they were as capable of reasoning as any individual Europeans; that they were as capable of the highest intellectual attainments; in short, that their abilities were equal, and that they only wanted to be equally cultivated, to afford specimens of as fine productions. Thus then does it appear from the testimony of this venerable man, whose authority is sufficient of itself to silence all objections against African capacity, and from the instances that have been produced, and the observations that have been made on the occasion, that if the minds of the Africans were unbroken by slavery; if they had the same expectations in life as other people, and the same opportunities of improvement, they would be equal; in all the various branches of science, to the Europeans, and that the argument that states them "to be an inferiour link of the chain of nature, and designed for servitude," as far as it depends on the _inferiority of their capacities_, is wholly malevolent and false[072]. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 069: Phillis Wheatley, negro slave to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston, in New-England.] [Footnote 070: Lest it should be doubted whether these Poems are genuine, we shall transcribe the names of those, who signed a certificate of their authenticity. His Excellency Thomas Hutchinson, Governor. The Honourable Andrew Oliver, Lieutenant Governor. The Hon. Thomas Hubbard The Hon. John Erving The Hon. James Pitts The Hon. Harrison Gray The Hon. James Bowdoin John Hancock, Esq. Joseph Green, Esq. Richard Carey, Esq. The Rev. Cha. Chauncy, D.D. The Rev. Mather Byles, D.D. The Rev. Ed. Pemberton, D.D. The Rev. Andrew Elliot, D.D. The Rev. Sam. Cooper, D.D. The Rev. Samuel Mather The Rev. John Moorhead Mr. John Wheatley, her Master. ] [Footnote 071: In the Preface.] [Footnote 072: As to Mr. Hume's assertions with respect to African capacity, we have passed them over in silence, as they have been so admirably refuted by the learned Dr. Beattie, in his Essay on Truth, to which we refer the reader. The whole of this admirable refutation extends from p. 458. to 464.] * * * * * CHAP. VIII. The second argument, by which it is attempted to be proved, "that the Africans are an inferiour link of the chain of nature, and are designed for slavery," is drawn from _colour_, and from those other marks, which distinguish them from the inhabitants of Europe. To prove this with the greater facility, the _receivers_ divide in opinion. Some of them contend that the Africans, from these circumstances, are the descendants of Cain[073]: others, that they are the posterity of Ham; and that as it was declared by divine inspiration, that these should be servants to the rest of the world, so they are designed for slavery; and that the reducing of them to such a situation is only the accomplishment of the will of heaven: while the rest, considering them from the same circumstances as a totally distinct species of men, conclude them to be an inferiour link of the chain of nature, and deduce the inference described. To answer these arguments in the clearest and fullest manner, we are under the necessity of making two suppositions, first, that the scriptures are true; secondly, that they are false. If then the scriptures are true, it is evident that the posterity of Cain were extinguished in the flood. Thus one of the arguments is no more. With respect to the curse of Ham, it appears also that it was limited; that it did not extend to the posterity of all his sons, but only to the descendants of him who was called Canaan[074]: by which it was foretold that the Canaanites, a part of the posterity of Ham, should serve the posterity of Shem and Japhet. Now how does it appear that these wretched Africans are the descendants of Canaan?--By those marks, it will be said, which distinguish them from the rest of the world.--But where are these marks to be found in the divine writings? In what page is it said, that the Canaanites were to be known by their _colour_, their _features_, their _form_, or the very _hair of their heads_, which is brought into the account?--But alas! so far are the divine writings from giving any such account, that they shew the assertion to be false. They shew that the descendants of Cush[075] were of the colour, to which the advocates for slavery allude; and of course, that there was no such limitation of colour to the posterity of Canaan, or the inheritors of the curse. Suppose we should now shew, upon the most undeniable evidence[076], that those of the wretched Africans, who are singled out as inheriting the curse, are the descendants of Cush or Phut; and that we should shew farther, that but a single remnant of Canaan, which was afterwards ruined, was ever in Africa at all.--Here all is consternation.-- But unfortunately again for the argument, though wonderfully for the confirmation that the scriptures are of divine original, the whole prophecy has been completed. A part of the descendants of Canaan were hewers of wood and drawers of water, and became tributary and subject to the Israelites, or the descendants of Shem. The Greeks afterwards, as well as the Romans, who were both the descendants of Japhet, not only subdued those who were settled in Syria and Palestine, but pursued and conquered all such as were then remaining. These were the Tyrians and Carthaginians: the former of whom were ruined by Alexander and the Greeks, the latter by Scipio and the Romans. It appears then that the second argument is wholly inapplicable and false: that it is false in its _application_, because those, who were the objects of the curse, were a totally distinct people: that it is false in its _proof_, because no such distinguishing marks, as have been specified, are to be found in the divine writings: and that, if the proof could be made out, it would be now _inapplicable_, as the curse has been long completed. With respect to the third argument, we must now suppose that the scriptures are false; that mankind did not all spring from the same original; that there are different species of men. Now what must we justly conclude from such a supposition? Must we conclude that one species is inferiour to another, and that the inferiority depends upon their _colour_, or their _features_, or their _form_?--No--We must now consult the analogy of nature, and the conclusion will be this: "that as she tempered the bodies of the different species of men in a different degree, to enable them to endure the respective climates of their habitation, so she gave them a variety of colour and appearance with a like benevolent design." To sum up the whole. If the scriptures are true, it is evident that the posterity of _Cain_ are no more; that the curse of _Ham_ has been accomplished; and that, as all men were derived from the same stock, so this variety of appearance in men must either have proceeded from some interposition of the Deity; or from a co-operation of certain causes, which have an effect upon the human frame, and have the power of changing it more or less from its primitive appearance, as they happen to be more or less numerous or powerful than those, which acted upon the frame of man in the first seat of his habitation. If from the interposition of the Deity, then we must conclude that he, who bringeth good out of evil, produced it for their convenience. If, from the co-operation of the causes before related, what argument may not be found against any society of men, who should happen to differ, in the points alluded to, from ourselves? If, on the other hand, the scriptures are false, then it is evident, that there was neither such a person as _Cain_, nor _Ham_, nor _Canaan_; and that nature bestowed such colour, features, and form, upon the different species of men, as were best adapted to their situation. Thus, on which ever supposition it is founded, the whole argument must fall. And indeed it is impossible that it can stand, even in the eye of common sense. For if you admit the _form_ of men as a justification of slavery, you may subjugate your own brother: if _features_, then you must quarrel with all the world: if _colour_, where are you to stop? It is evident, that if you travel from the equator to the northern pole, you will find a regular gradation of colour from black to white. Now if you can justly take him for your slave, who is of the deepest die, what hinders you from taking him also, who only differs from the former but by a shade. Thus you may proceed, taking each in a regular succession to the poles. But who are you, that thus take into slavery so many people? Where do you live yourself? Do you live in _Spain_, or in _France_, or in _Britain_? If in either of these countries, take care lest the _whiter natives of the north_ should have a claim upon yourself.--But the argument is too ridiculous to be farther noticed. Having now silenced the whole argument, we might immediately proceed to the discussion of other points, without even declaring our opinion as to which of the suppositions may be right, on which it has been refuted; but we do not think ourselves at liberty to do this. The present age would rejoice to find that the scriptures had no foundation, and would anxiously catch at the writings of him, who should mention them in a doubtful manner. We shall therefore declare our sentiments, by asserting that they are true, and that all mankind, however various their appearances are derived from the same stock. To prove this, we shall not produce those innumerable arguments, by which the scriptures have stood the test of ages, but advert to a single fact. It is an universal law, observable throughout the whole creation, _that if two animals of a different species propagate, their offspring is unable to continue its own species_. By this admirable law, the different species are preserved distinct; every possibility of confusion is prevented, and the world is forbidden to be over-run by a race of monsters. Now, if we apply this law to those of the human kind, who are said to be of a distinct species from each other, it immediately fails. The _mulattoe_ is as capable of continuing his own species as his father; a clear and irrefragable proof, that the scripture[077] account of the creation is true, and that "God, who hath made the world, hath made of one blood[078] all the nations of men that dwell on all the face of the earth." But if this be the case, it will be said that mankind were originally of one colour; and it will be asked at the same time, what it is probable that the colour was, and how they came to assume so various an appearance? To, each of these we shall make that reply, which we conceive to be the most rational. As mankind were originally of the same stock, so it is evident that they were originally of the same colour. But how shall we attempt to ascertain it? Shall we _Englishmen_ say, that it was the same as that which we now find to be peculiar to ourselves?--No--This would be a vain and partial consideration, and would betray our judgment to have arisen from that false fondness, which habituates us to suppose, that every thing belonging to ourselves is the perfectest and the best. Add to this, that we should always be liable to a just reproof from every inhabitant of the globe, whose colour was different from our own; because he would justly say, that he had as good a right to imagine that his own was the primitive colour, as that of any other people. How then shall we attempt to ascertain it? Shall we look into the various climates of the earth, see the colour that generally prevails in the inhabitants of each, and apply the rule? This will be certainly free from partiality, and will afford us a better prospect of success: for as every particular district has its particular colour, so it is evident that the complexion of Noah and his sons, from whom the rest of the world were descended, was the same as that, which is peculiar to the country, which was the seat of their habitation. This, by such a mode of decision, will be found a dark olive; a beautiful colour, and a just medium between white and black. That this was the primitive colour, is highly probable from the observations that have been made; and, if admitted, will afford a valuable lesson to the Europeans, to be cautious how they deride those of the opposite complexion, as there is great reason to presume, _that the purest white[079] is as far removed from the primitive colour as the deepest black_. We come now to the grand question, which is, that if mankind were originally of this or any other colour, how came it to pass, that they should wear so various an appearance? We reply, as we have had occasion to say before, either _by the interposition of the Deity_; or _by a co-operation of certain causes, which have an effect upon the human frame, and have the power of changing it more or less from its primitive appearance, as they are more or less numerous or powerful than those, which acted upon the frame of man in the first seat of his habitation_. With respect to the Divine interposition, two epochs have been assigned, when this difference of colour has been imagined to have been so produced. The first is that, which has been related, when the curse was pronounced on a branch of the posterity of _Ham_. But this argument has been already refuted; for if the particular colour alluded to were assigned at this period, it was assigned to the descendants of _Canaan_, to distinguish them from those of his other brothers, and was therefore _limited_ to the former. But the descendants of _Cush_[080], as we have shewn before, partook of the same colour; a clear proof, that it was neither assigned to them on this occasion, nor at this period. The second epoch is that, when mankind were dispersed on the building of _Babel_. It has been thought, that both _national features and colour_ might probably have been given them at this time, because these would have assisted the confusion of language, by causing them to disperse into tribes, and would have united more firmly the individuals of each, after the dispersion had taken place. But this is improbable: first, because there is great reason to presume that Moses, who has mentioned the confusion of language, would have mentioned these circumstances also, if they had actually contributed to bring about so singular an event: secondly, because the confusion of language was sufficient of itself to have accomplished this; and we cannot suppose that the Deity could have done any thing in vain: and thirdly, because, if mankind had been dispersed, each tribe in its peculiar hue, it is impossible to conceive, that they could have wandered and settled in such a manner, as to exhibit that regular gradation of colour from the equator to the poles, so conspicuous at the present day. These are the only periods, which there has been even the shadow of a probability for assigning; and we may therefore conclude that the preceding observations, together with such circumstances as will appear in the present chapter, will amount to a demonstration, that the difference of colour was never caused by any interposition of the Deity, and that it must have proceeded therefore from that _incidental co-operation of causes_, which has been before related. What these causes are, it is out of the power of human wisdom positively to assert: there are facts, however, which, if properly weighed and put together, will throw considerable light upon the subject. These we shall submit to the perusal of the reader, and shall deduce from them such inferences only, as almost every person must make in his own mind, on their recital. The first point, that occurs to be ascertained, is, "What part of the skin is the seat of colour?" The old anatomists usually divided the skin into two parts, or lamina; the exteriour and thinnest, called by the Greeks _Epidermis_, by the Romans _Cuticula_, and hence by us _Cuticle_; and the interiour, called by the former _Derma_, and by the latter _Cutis_, or _true skin_. Hence they must necessarily have supposed, that, as the _true skin_ was in every respect the same in all human subjects, however various their external hue, so the seat of colour must have existed in the _Cuticle_, or upper surface. Malphigi, an eminent Italian physician, of the last century, was the first person who discovered that the skin was divided into three lamina, or parts; the _Cuticle_, the _true skin_, and a certain coagulated substance situated between both, which he distinguished by the title of _Mucosum Corpus_; a title retained by anatomists to the present day: which coagulated substance adhered so firmly to the _Cuticle_, as, in all former anatomical preparations, to have come off with it, and, from this circumstance to have led the ancient anatomists to believe, that there were but two lamina, or divisible portions in the human skin. This discovery was sufficient to ascertain the point in question: for it appeared afterwards that the _Cuticle_, when divided according to this discovery from the other lamina, was semi-transparent; that the cuticle of the blackest negroe was of the same transparency and colour, as that of the purest white; and hence, the _true skins_ of both being invariably the same, that the _mucosum corpus_ was the seat of colour. This has been farther confirmed by all subsequent anatomical experiments, by which it appears, that, whatever is the colour of this intermediate coagulated substance, nearly the same is the apparent colour of the upper surface of the skin. Neither can it be otherwise; for the _Cuticle_, from its transparency, must necessarily transmit the colour of the substance beneath it, in the same manner, though not in the same degree, as the _cornea_ transmits the colour of the _iris_ of the eye. This transparency is a matter of ocular demonstration in white people. It is conspicuous in every blush; for no one can imagine, that the cuticle becomes red, as often as this happens: nor is it less discoverable in the veins, which are so easy to be discerned; for no one can suppose, that the blue streaks, which he constantly sees in the fairest complexions, are painted, as it were, on the surface of the upper skin. From these, and a variety of other observations[081], no maxim is more true in physiology, than that _on the mucosum corpus depends the colour of the human body_; or, in other words, that the _mucosum corpus_ being of a different colour in different inhabitants of the globe, and appearing through the cuticle or upper surface of the skin, gives them that various appearance, which strikes us so forcibly in contemplating the human race. As this can be incontrovertibly ascertained, it is evident, that whatever causes cooperate in producing this different appearance, they produce it by acting upon the _mucosum corpus_, which, from the almost incredible manner in which the cuticle[082] is perforated, is as accessible as the cuticle itself. These causes are probably those various qualities of things, which, combined with the influence of the sun, contribute to form what we call _climate_. For when any person considers, that the mucous substance, before-mentioned, is found to vary in its colour, as the _climates_ vary from the equator to the poles, his mind must be instantly struck with the hypothesis, and he must adopt it without any hesitation, as the genuine cause of the phænomenon. This fact[083], _of the variation of the mucous substance according to the situation of the place_, has been clearly ascertained in the numerous anatomical experiments that have been made; in which, subjects of all nations have come under consideration. The natives of many of the kingdoms and isles of _Asia_, are found to have their _corpus mucosum_ black. Those of _Africa_, situated near the line, of the same colour. Those of the maritime parts of the same continent, of a dusky brown, nearly approaching to it; and the colour becomes lighter or darker in proportion as the distance from the equator is either greater or less. The Europeans are the fairest inhabitants of the world. Those situated in the most southern regions of _Europe_, have in their _corpus mucosum_ a tinge of the dark hue of their _African_ neighbours: hence the epidemick complexion, prevalent among them, is nearly of the colour of the pickled Spanish olive; while in this country, and those situated nearer the north pole, it appears to be nearly, if not absolutely, white. These are facts[084], which anatomy has established; and we acknowledge them to be such, that we cannot divest ourselves of the idea, that _climate_ has a considerable share in producing a difference of colour. Others, we know, have invented other hypotheses, but all of them have been instantly refuted, as unable to explain the difficulties for which they were advanced, and as absolutely contrary to fact: and the inventors themselves have been obliged, almost as soon as they have proposed them, to acknowledge them deficient. The only objection of any consequence, that has ever been made to the hypothesis of _climate_, is this, _that people under the same parallels are not exactly of the same colour_. But this is no objection in fact: for it does not follow that those countries, which are at an equal distance from the equator, should have their climates the same. Indeed nothing is more contrary to experience than this. Climate depends upon a variety of accidents. High mountains, in the neighbourhood of a place, make it cooler, by chilling the air that is carried over them by the winds. Large spreading succulent plants, if among the productions of the soil, have the same effect: they afford agreeable cooling shades, and a moist atmosphere from their continual exhalations, by which the ardour of the sun is considerably abated. While the soil, on the other hand, if of a sandy nature, retains the heat in an uncommon degree, and makes the summers considerably hotter than those which are found to exist in the same latitude, where the soil is different. To this proximity of what may be termed _burning sands_, and to the sulphurous and metallick particles, which are continually exhaling from the bowels of the earth, is ascribed the different degree of blackness, by which some _African_ nations are distinguishable from each other, though under the same parallels. To these observations we may add, that though the inhabitants of the same parallel are not exactly of the same hue, yet they differ only by shades of the same colour; or, to speak with more precision, that there are no two people, in such a situation, one of whom is white, and the other black. To sum up the whole--Suppose we were to take a common globe; to begin at the equator; to paint every country along the meridian line in succession from thence to the poles; and to paint them with the same colour which prevails in the respective inhabitants of each, we should see the black, with which we had been obliged to begin, insensibly changing to an olive, and the olive, through as many intermediate colours, to a white: and if, on the other hand, we should complete any one of the parallels according to the same plan, we should see a difference perhaps in the appearance of some of the countries through which it ran, though the difference would consist wholly in shades of the same colour. The argument therefore, which is brought against the hypothesis, is so far from being, an objection, that we shall consider it one of the first arguments in its favour: for if _climate_ has really an influence on the _mucous substance_ of the body, it is evident, that we must not only expect to see a gradation of colour in the inhabitants from the equator to the poles, but also different[085] shades of the same colour in the inhabitants of the same parallel. To this argument, we shall add one that is incontrovertible, which is, that when the _black_ inhabitants of _Africa_ are transplanted to _colder_, or the _white_ inhabitants of _Europe_ to _hotter_ climates, their children, _born there_, are of a _different colour from themselves_; that is, lighter in the first, and darker in the second instance. As a proof of the first, we shall give the words of the Abbé Raynal[086], in his admired publication. "The children," says he, "which they, (the _Africans_) procreate in _America_, are not so black as their parents were. After each generation the difference becomes more palpable. It is possible, that after a numerous succession of generations, the men come from _Africa_ would not be distinguished from those of the country, into which they may have been transplanted." This circumstance we have had the pleasure of hearing confirmed by a variety of persons, who have been witnesses of the fact; but particularly by many intelligent[087] Africans, who have been parents themselves in _America_, and who have declared that the difference is so palpable in the _northern provinces_, that not only they themselves have constantly observed it, but that they have heard it observed by others. Neither is this variation in the children from the colour of their parents improbable. _The children of the blackest Africans are born white_[088]. In this state they continue for about a month, when they change to a pale yellow. In process of time they become brown. Their skin still continues to increase in darkness with their age, till it becomes of a dirty, sallow black, and at length, after a certain period of years, glossy and shining. Now, if climate has any influence on the _mucous substance_ of the body, this variation in the children from the colour of their parents is an event, which must be reasonably expected: for being born white, and not having equally powerful causes to act upon them in colder, as their parents had in the hotter climates which they left, it must necessarily follow, that the same affect cannot possibly be produced. Hence also, if the hypothesis be admitted, may be deduced the reason, why even those children, who have been brought from their country at an early age into colder regions, have been observed[089] to be of a lighter colour than those who have remained at home till they arrived at a state of manhood. For having undergone some of the changes which we mentioned to have attended their countrymen from infancy to a certain age, and having been taken away before the rest could be completed, these farther changes, which would have taken place had they remained at home, seem either to have been checked in their progress, or weakened in their degree, by a colder climate. We come now to the second and opposite case; for a proof of which we shall appeal to the words of Dr. Mitchell[090], in the Philosophical Transactions. "The _Spaniards_ who have inhabited _America_ under the torrid zone for any time, are become as dark coloured as our native _Indians_ of _Virginia_, of which, _I myself have been a witness_; and were they not to intermarry with the _Europeans_, but lead the same rude and barbarous lives with the _Indians_, it is very probable that, in a succession of many generations, they would become as dark in complexion." To this instance we shall add one, which is mentioned by a late writer[091], who describing the _African_ coast, and the _European_ settlements there, has the following passage. "There are several other small _Portuguese_ settlements, and one of some note at _Mitomba_, a river in _Sierra Leon_. The people here called _Portuguese_, are principally persons bred from a mixture of the first _Portuguese discoverers_ with the natives, and now become, in their _complexion_ and _woolly quality_ of their hair, _perfect negroes_, retaining however a smattering of the _Portuguese_ language." These facts, with respect to the colonists of the _Europeans_, are of the highest importance in the present case, and deserve a serious attention. For when we know to a certainty from whom they are descended; when we know that they were, at the time of their transplantation, of the same colour as those from whom they severally sprung; and when, on the other hand, we are credibly informed, that they have changed it for the native colour of the place which they now inhabit; the evidence in support of these facts is as great, as if a person, on the removal of two or three families into another climate, had determined to ascertain the circumstance; as if he had gone with them and watched their children; as if he had communicated his observations at his death to a successor; as if his successor had prosecuted the plan, and thus an uninterrupted chain of evidence had been kept up from their first removal to any determined period of succeeding time. But though these facts seem sufficient of themselves to confirm our opinion, they are not the only facts which can be adduced in its support. It can be shewn, that the members of the _very same family_, when divided from each other, and removed into different countries, have not only changed their family complexion, but that they have changed it to _as many different colours_ as they have gone into _different regions of the world_. We cannot have, perhaps, a more striking instance of this, than in the _Jews_. These people, are scattered over the face of the whole earth. They have preserved themselves distinct from the rest of the world by their religion; and, as they never intermarry with any but those of their own sect, so they have no mixture of blood in their veins, that they should differ from each other: and yet nothing is more true, than that the _English Jew_[092] is white, the _Portuguese_ swarthy, the _Armenian_ olive, and the _Arabian_ copper; in short, that there appear to be as many different species of _Jews_, as there are countries in which they reside. To these facts we shall add the following observation, that if we can give credit to the ancient historians in general, a change from the darkest black to the purest white must have actually been accomplished. One instance, perhaps, may be thought sufficient. _Herodotus_[093] relates, that the _Colchi were black_, and that they had _crisped hair_. These people were a detachment of the _�thiopian_ army under _Sesostris_, who followed him in his expedition, and settled in that part of the world, where _Colchis_ is usually represented to have been situated. Had not the same author informed us of this circumstance, we should have thought it strange[094], that a people of this description should have been found in such a latitude. Now as they were undoubtedly settled there, and as they were neither so totally destroyed, nor made any such rapid conquests, as that history should notice the event, there is great reason to presume, that their descendants continued in the same, or settled in the adjacent country; from whence it will follow, that they must have changed their complexion to that, which is observable in the inhabitants of this particular region at the present day; or, in other words, that the _black inhabitant of Colchis_ must have been changed into the _fair Circassian_[095]. As we have now shewn it to be highly probable, from the facts which have been advanced, that climate is the cause of the difference of colour which prevails in the different inhabitants of the globe, we shall now shew its probability from so similar an effect produced on the _mucous substance_ before-mentioned by so similar a cause, that though the fact does not absolutely prove our conjecture to be right, yet it will give us a very lively conception of the manner, in which the phænomenon may be caused. This probability may be shewn in the case of _freckles_, which are to be seen in the face of children, but of such only, as have the thinnest and most transparent skins, and are occasioned by the rays of the sun, striking forcibly on the _mucous substance_ of the face, and drying the accumulating fluid. This accumulating fluid, or perspirable matter, is at first colourless; but being exposed to violent heat, or dried, becomes brown. Hence, the _mucosum corpus_ being tinged in various parts by this brown coagulated fluid, and the parts so tinged appearing through the _cuticle_, or upper surface of the skin, arises that spotted appearance, observable in the case recited. Now, if we were to conceive a black skin to be an _universal freckle_, or the rays of the sun to act so universally on the _mucous substance_ of a person's face, as to produce these spots so contiguous to each other that they should unite, we should then see, in imagination, a face similar to those, which are daily to be seen among black people: and if we were to conceive his body to be exposed or acted upon in the same manner, we should then see his body assuming a similar appearance; and thus we should see the whole man of a perfect black, or resembling one of the naked inhabitants of the torrid zone. Now as the feat of freckles and of blackness is the same; as their appearance is similar; and as the cause of the first is the ardour of the sun, it is therefore probable that the cause of the second is the same: hence, if we substitute for the word "_sun_," what is analogous to it, the word _climate_, the same effect may be supposed to be produced, and the conjecture to receive a sanction. Nor is it unlikely that the hypothesis, which considers the cause of freckles and of blackness as the same, may be right. For if blackness is occasioned by the rays of the sun striking forcibly and universally on the _mucous substance_ of the body, and drying the accumulating fluid, we can account for the different degrees of it to be found in the different inhabitants of the globe. For as the quantity of perspirable fluid, and the force of the solar rays is successively increased, as the climates are successively warmer, from any given parallel to the line, it follows that the fluid, with which the _mucous substance_ will be stained, will be successively thicker and deeper coloured; and hence, as it appears through the cuticle, the complexion successively darker; or, what amounts to the same thing, there will be a difference of colour in the inhabitants of every successive parallel. From these, and the whole of the preceding observations on the subject, we may conclude, that as all the inhabitants of the earth cannot be otherwise than the children of the same parents, and as the difference of their appearance must have of course proceeded from incidental causes, these causes are a combination of those qualities, which we call _climate_; that the blackness of the _Africans_ is so far ingrafted in their constitution, in a course of many generations, that their children wholly inherit it, if brought up in the same spot, but that it is not so absolutely interwoven in their nature, that it cannot be removed, if they are born and settled in another; that _Noah_ and his sons were probably of an _olive_ complexion; that those of their descendants, who went farther to the south, became of a deeper olive or _copper_; while those, who went still farther, became of a deeper copper or _black_; that those, on the other hand, who travelled farther to the north, became less olive or _brown_, while those who went still farther than the former, became less brown or _white_; and that if any man were to point out any one of the colours which prevails in the human complexion, as likely to furnish an argument, that the people of such a complexion were of a different species from the rest, it is probable that his own descendants, if removed to the climate to which this complexion is peculiar, would, in the course of a few generations, degenerate into the same colour. Having now replied to the argument, "that the Africans are an inferiour link of the chain of nature," as far as it depended on their _capacity_ and _colour_, we shall now only take notice of an expression, which the _receivers_ before-mentioned are pleased to make use of, "that they are made for slavery." Had the Africans been _made for slavery_, or to become the property of any society of men, it is clear, from the observations that have been made in the second part of this Essay, that they must have been created _devoid of reason_: but this is contrary to fact. It is clear also, that there must have been, many and evident signs of the _inferiority of their nature_, and that this society of men must have had a _natural right_ to their dominion: but this is equally false. No such signs of _inferiority_ are to be found in the one, and the right to dominion in the other is _incidental_: for in what volume of nature or religion is it written, that one society of men should _breed slaves_ for the benefit, of another? Nor is it less evident that they would have wanted many of those qualities which they have, and which brutes have not: they would have wanted that _spirit of liberty_, that _sense of ignominy and shame_[096], which so frequently drives them to the horrid extremity of finishing their own existence. Nor would they have been endowed with a _contemplative power_; for such a power would have been unnecessary to people in such a situation; or rather, its only use could have been to increase their pain. We cannot suppose therefore that God has made an order of beings, with such mental qualities and powers, for the sole purpose of being used as _beasts_, or _instruments_ of labour. And here, what a dreadful argument presents itself against you _receivers_? For if they have no understandings as you confess, then is your conduct impious, because, as they cannot perceive the intention of your punishment, your severities cannot make them better. But if, on the other hand, they have had understandings, (which has evidently appeared) then is your conduct equally impious, who, by destroying their faculties by the severity of your discipline, have reduced men; who had once the power of reason, to an equality with the brute creation. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 073: Genesis, ch. iv. 15.] [Footnote 074: Genesis, ch. ix. 25, 26, 27.] [Footnote 075: Jeremiah says, ch. xiii. 23, "Can the �thiopian change his colour, or the leopard his spots?" Now the word, which is here translated _�thiopian_, is in the original Hebrew "_the descendant of Cush_," which shews that this colour was not confined to the descendants of _Canaan_, as the advocates for slavery assert.] [Footnote 076: It is very extraordinary that the advocates for slavery should consider those Africans, whom they call negroes, as the descendants of _Canaan_, when few historical facts can be so well ascertained, as that out of the descendants of the four sons of Ham, the descendants of Canaan were the only people, (if we except the Carthaginians, who were a colony of Canaan, and were afterwards ruined) who did not settle in that quarter of the globe. Africa was incontrovertibly peopled by the posterity of the three other sons. We cannot shew this in a clearer manner, than in the words of the learned Mr. Bryant, in his letter to Mr. Granville Sharp on this subject. "We learn from scripture, that Ham had four sons, _Chus, Mizraim, Phut_, and _Canaan_, Gen. x. 5, 6. _Canaan_ occupied _Palestine_, and the country called by his name: _Mizraim, Egypt_: but _Phut_ passed deep into _Africa_, and, I believe, most of the nations in that part of the world are descended from him; at least more than from any other person." _Josephus_ says, "_that Phut was the founder of the nations in Libya, and the people were from him called (phoutoi) Phuti_." Antiq. L. 1. c. 7. "By _Lybia_ he understands, as the _Greeks_ did, _Africa_ in general: for the particular country called _Lybia Proper_, was peopled by the _Lubim_, or _Lehabim_, one of the branches from _Mizraim_, (Labieim ex ou Libnes) Chron. Paschale, p. 29. "The sons of _Phut_ settled in _Mauritania_, where was a country called _Phutia_, and a river of the like denomination. Mauritaniæ Fluvius usque ad præsens Tempus _Phut_ dicitur, omnisq; circa eum Regio _Phutensis_. Hieron. Tradit. Hebroeæ.--Amnem, quem vocant _Fut_." Pliny, L. 5. c. 1. Some of this family settled above �gypt, near �thiopia, and were styled Troglodytæ. (phoud ex ou troglodotai). Syncellus, p. 47. Many of them passed inland, and peopled the Mediterranean country." "In process of time the sons of _Chus_ also, (after their expulsion from Egypt) made settlements upon the sea coast of _Africa_, and came into _Mauritania_. Hence we find traces of them also in the names of places, such as _Churis, Chusares_, upon the coast: and a river _Chusa_, and a city _Cotta_, together with a promontory, _Cotis_, in _Mauritania_, all denominated from _Chus_; who at different times, and by different people, was called _Chus, Cuth, Cosh_, and _Cotis_. The river _Cusa_ is mentioned by _Pliny_, Lib. 5. c. 1. and by _Ptolomy_." "Many ages after these settlements, there was another eruption of the _Cushites_ into these parts, under the name of _Saracens_ and _Moors_, who over-ran _Africa_, to the very extremity of Mount Atlas. They passed over and conquered _Spain_ to the north, and they extended themselves southward, as I said in my treatise, to the rivers _Senegal_ and _Gambia_, and as low as the _Gold Coast_. I mentioned this, because I do not think that they proceeded much farther: most of the nations to the _south_ being, as I imagine, of the race of _Phut_. The very country upon the river _Gambia_ on one side, is at this day called _Phuta_, of which _Bluet_, in his history of _Juba Ben Solomon_, gives an account."] [Footnote 077: When America was first discovered, it was thought by some, that the scripture account of the creation was false, and that there were different species of men, because they could never suppose that people, in so rude a state as the Americans, could have transported themselves to that continent from any parts of the known world. This opinion however was refuted by the celebrated Captain Cooke, who shewed that the traject between the continents of Asia and America, was as short as some, which people in as rude a state have been actually known to pass. This affords an excellent caution against an ill-judged and hasty censure of the divine writings, because every difficulty which may be started, cannot be instantly cleared up.] [Footnote 078: The divine writings, which assert that all men were derived from the _same stock_, shew also, in the same instance of _Cush_, (Footnote 075), that some of them had changed their original complexion.] [Footnote 079: The following are the grand colours discernible in mankind, between which there are many shades; White } { Copper }--Olive--{ Brown } { Black ] [Footnote 080: See note, (Footnote 075). To this we may add, that the rest of the descendants of _Ham_, as far as they can be traced, are now also black, at well as many of the descendants of _Shem_.] [Footnote 081: Diseases have a great effect upon the _mucosum corpus_, but particularly the jaundice, which turns it yellow. Hence, being transmitted through the cuticle, the yellow appearance of the whole body. But this, even as a matter of ocular demonstration, is not confined solely to white people; negroes themselves, while affected with these or other disorders, changing their black colour for that which the disease has conveyed to the _mucous_ substance.] [Footnote 082: The cutaneous pores are so excessively small, that one grain of sand, (according to Dr. Lewenhoeck's calculations) would cover many hundreds of them.] [Footnote 083: We do not mean to insinuate that the same people have their _corpus mucosum_ sensibly vary, as often as they go into another latitude, but that the fact is true only of different people, who have been long established in different latitudes.] [Footnote 084: We beg leave to return our thanks here to a gentleman, eminent in the medical line, who furnished us with the above-mentioned facts.] [Footnote 085: Suppose we were to see two nations, contiguous to each other, of black and white inhabitants in the same parallel, even this would be no objection, for many circumstances are to be considered. A black people may have wandered into a white, and a white people into a black latitude, and they may not have been settled there a sufficient length of time for such a change to have been accomplished in their complexion, as that they should be like the old established inhabitants of the parallel, into which they have lately come.] [Footnote 086: Justamond's Abbe Raynal, v. 5. p. 193.] [Footnote 087: The author of this Essay made it his business to inquire of the most intelligent of those, whom he could meet with in London, as to the authenticity of the fact. All those from _America_ assured him that it was strictly true; those from the West-Indies, that they had never observed it there; but that they had found a sensible difference in themselves since they came to England.] [Footnote 088: This circumstance, which always happens, shews that they are descended from the same parents as ourselves; for had they been a distinct species of men, and the blackness entirely ingrafted in their constitution and frame, there is great reason to presume, that their children would have been born _black_.] [Footnote 089: This observation was communicated to us by the gentleman in the medical line, to whom we returned our thanks for certain anatomical facts.] [Footnote 090: Philos. Trans. No. 476. sect. 4.] [Footnote 091: Treatise upon the Trade from Great Britain to Africa, by an African merchant.] [Footnote 092: We mean such only as are _natives_ of the countries which we mention, and whose ancestors have been settled there for a certain period of time.] [Footnote 093: Herodotus. Euterpe. p. 80. Editio Stephani, printed 1570.] [Footnote 094: This circumstance confirms what we said in a former note, (Footnote 085), that even if two nations were to be found in the same parallel, one of whom was black, and the other white, it would form no objection against the hypothesis of climate, as one of them might have been new settlers from a distant country.] [Footnote 095: Suppose, without the knowledge of any historian, they had made such considerable conquests, as to have settled themselves at the distance of 1000 miles in any one direction from _Colchis_, still they must have changed their colour. For had they gone in an Eastern or Western direction, they must have been of the same colour as the _Circassians_; if to the north, whiter; if to the south, of a copper. There are no people within that distance of _Colchis_, who are black.] [Footnote 096: There are a particular people among those transported from Africa to the colonies, who immediately on receiving punishment, destroy themselves. This is a fact which the _receivers_ are unable to contradict.] * * * * * CHAP. IX. The reader may perhaps think, that the _receivers_ have by this time expended all their arguments, but their store is not so easily exhausted. They are well aware that justice, nature, and religion, will continue, as they have ever uniformly done, to oppose their conduct. This has driven them to exert their ingenuity, and has occasioned that multiplicity of arguments to be found in the present question. These arguments are of a different complexion from the former. They consist in comparing the state of _slaves_ with that of some of the classes of _free_ men, and in certain scenes of felicity, which the former are said to enjoy. It is affirmed that the punishments which the Africans undergo, are less severe than the military; that their life is happier than that of the English peasant; that they have the advantages of manumission; that they have their little spots of ground, their holy-days, their dances; in short, that their life is a scene of festivity and mirth, and that they are much happier in the colonies than in their own country. These representations, which have been made out with much ingenuity and art, may have had their weight with the unwary; but they will never pass with men of consideration and sense, who are accustomed to estimate the probability of things, before they admit them to be true. Indeed the bare assertion, that their situation is even comfortable, contains its own refutation, or at least leads us to suspect that the person, who asserted it, has omitted some important considerations in the account. Such we shall shew to have been actually the case, and that the representations of the _receivers_, when stripped of their glossy ornaments, are but empty declamation. It is said, first, of _military punishments_, that they are more severe than those which the _Africans_ undergo. But this is a bare assertion without a proof. It is not shewn even by those, who assert it, how the fact can be made out. We are left therefore to draw the comparison ourselves, and to fill up those important considerations, which we have just said that the _receivers_ had omitted. That military punishments are severe we confess, but we deny that they are severer than those with which they are compared. Where is the military man, whose ears have been slit, whose limbs have been mutilated, or whose eyes have been beaten out? But let us even allow, that their punishments are equal in the degree of their severity: still they must lose by comparison. The soldier is never punished but after a fair and equitable trial, and the decision of a military court; the unhappy African, at the discretion of his Lord. The one knows what particular conduct will constitute an offence[097]; the other has no such information, as he is wholly at the disposal of passion and caprice, which may impose upon any action, however laudable, the appellation of a crime. The former has it of course in his power to avoid a punishment; the latter is never safe. The former is punished for a real, the latter, often, for an imaginary fault. Now will any person assert, on comparing the whole of those circumstances together, which relate to their respective punishments, that there can be any doubt, which of the two are in the worst situation, as to their penal systems? With respect to the declaration, that the life of an _African_ in the colonies is happier than that of an _English_ peasant, it is equally false. Indeed we can scarcely withhold our indignation, when we consider, how shamefully the situation of this latter class of men has been misrepresented, to elevate the former to a state of fictitious happiness. If the representations of the _receivers_ be true, it is evident that those of the most approved writers, who have placed a considerable share of happiness in the _cottage_, have been mistaken in their opinion; and that those of the rich, who have been heard to sigh, and envy the felicity of the _peasant_, have been treacherous to their own sensations. But which are we to believe on the occasion? Those, who endeavour to dress _vice_ in the habit of _virtue_, or those, who derive their opinion from their own feelings? The latter are surely to be believed; and we may conclude therefore, that the horrid picture which is given of the life of the _peasant_, has not so just a foundation as the _receivers_ would, lead us to suppose. For has he no pleasure in the thought, that he lives in his _own country_, and among his relations and friends? That he is actually _free_, and that his children will be the same? That he can never be _sold_ as a beast? That he can speak his mind _without the fear of the lash_? That he cannot even be struck _with impunity_? And that he partakes, equally with his superiours, of the _protection of the law_?--Now, there is no one of these advantages which the _African_ possesses, and no one, which the defenders of slavery take into their account. Of the other comparisons that are usually made, we may observe in general, that, as they consist in comparing the iniquitous practice of slavery with other iniquitous practices in force among other nations, they can neither raise it to the appearance of virtue, nor extenuate its guilt. The things compared are in these instances both of them evils alike. They call equally for redress[098], and are equally disgraceful to the governments which suffer them, if not encourage them, to exist. To attempt therefore to justify one species of iniquity by comparing it with another, is no justification at all; and is so far from answering the purpose, for which the comparison is intended, as to give us reason to suspect, that the _comparer_ has but little notion either of equity or honour. We come now to those scenes of felicity, which slaves are said to enjoy. The first advantage which they are said to experience, is that of _manumission_. But here the advocates for slavery conceal an important circumstance. They expatiate indeed on the charms of freedom, and contend that it must be a blessing in the eyes of those, upon whom it is conferred. We perfectly agree with them in this particular. But they do not tell us that these advantages are _confined_; that they are confined to some _favourite domestick_; that not _one in an hundred_ enjoy them; and that they are _never_ extended to those, who are employed in the _cultivation of the field_, as long as they can work. These are they, who are most to be pitied, who are destined to _perpetual_ drudgery; and of whom _no one whatever_ has a chance of being freed from his situation, till death either releases him at once, or age renders him incapable of continuing his former labour. And here let it be remarked, _to the disgrace of the receivers_, that he is then made free, not--_as a reward for his past services_, but, as his labour is then of little or no value,--_to save the tax_[099]. With the same artifice is mention also made of the little spots, or _gardens_, as they are called, which slaves are said to possess from the _liberality_ of _the receivers_. But people must not be led away by agreeable and pleasant sounds. They must not suppose that these gardens are made for _flowers_; or that they are places of _amusement_, in which they can spend their time in botanical researches and delights. Alas, they do not furnish them with a theme for such pleasing pursuits and speculations! They must be cultivated in those hours, which ought to be appropriated to rest[100]; and they must be cultivated, not for an amusement, but to make up, _if it be possible_, the great deficiency in their weekly allowance of provisions. Hence it appears, that the _receivers_ have no merit whatever in such an appropriation of land to their unfortunate slaves: for they are either under the necessity of doing this, or of _losing_ them by the jaws of famine. And it is a notorious fact, that, with their weekly allowance, and the produce of their spots together, it is often with the greatest difficulty that they preserve a wretched existence. The third advantage which they are said to experience, is that of _holy-days_, or days of respite from their usual discipline and fatigue. This is certainly a great indulgence, and ought to be recorded to the immortal honour of the _receivers_. We wish we could express their liberality in those handsome terms, in which it deserves to be represented, or applaud them sufficiently for deviating for once from the rigours of servile discipline. But we confess, that we are unequal to the task, and must therefore content ourselves with observing, that while the horse has _one_ day in _seven_ to refresh his limbs, the happy _African_[101] has but _one_ in _fifty-two_, as a relaxation from his labours. With respect to their _dances_, on which such a particular stress has been generally laid, we fear that people may have been as shamefully deceived, as in the former instances. For from the manner in which these are generally mentioned, we should almost be led to imagine, that they had certain hours allowed them for the purpose of joining in the dance, and that they had every comfort and convenience, that people are generally supposed to enjoy on such convivial occasions. But this is far from the case. Reason informs us, that it can never be. If they wish for such innocent recreations, they must enjoy them in the time that is allotted them for sleep; and so far are these dances from proceeding from any uncommon degree of happiness, which excites them to convivial society, that they proceed rather from an uncommon depression of spirits, which makes them even sacrifice their rest[102], for the sake of experiencing for a moment a more joyful oblivion of their cares. For suppose any one of the _receivers_, in the middle of a dance, were to address his slaves in the following manner: "_Africans!_ I begin at last to feel for your situation; and my conscience is severely hurt, whenever I reflect that I have been reducing those to a state of misery and pain, who have never given me offence. You seem to be fond of these exercises, but yet you are obliged to take them at such unseasonable hours, that they impair your health, which is sufficiently broken by the intolerable share of labour which I have hitherto imposed upon you. I will therefore make you a proposal. Will you be content to live in the colonies, and you shall have the half of every week entirely to yourselves? or will you choose to return to your miserable, wretched country?"--But what is that which strikes their ears? Which makes them motionless in an instant? Which interrupts the festive scene?--their country?--transporting sound!--Behold! they are now flying from the dance: you may see them running to the shore, and, frantick as it were with joy, demanding with open arms an instantaneous passage to their beloved native plains. Such are the _colonial delights_, by the representation of which the _receivers_ would persuade us, that the _Africans_ are taken from their country to a region of conviviality and mirth; and that like those, who leave their usual places of residence for a summer's amusement, they are conveyed to the colonies--_to bathe_,--_to dance_,--_to keep holy-day_,--_to be jovial_.--But there is something so truly ridiculous in the attempt to impose these scenes of felicity on the publick, as scenes which fall to the lot of slaves, that the _receivers_ must have been driven to great extremities, to hazard them to the eye of censure. The last point that remains to be considered, is the shameful assertion, that the _Africans_ are much _happier in the colonies, than in their own country_. But in what does this superiour happiness consist? In those real scenes, it must be replied, which have been just mentioned; for these, by the confession of the receivers, constitute the happiness they enjoy.--But it has been shewn that these have been unfairly represented; and, were they realized in the most extensive latitude, they would not confirm the fact. For if, upon a recapitulation, it consists in the pleasure of _manumission_, they surely must have passed their lives in a much more comfortable manner, who, like the _Africans at home_, have had no occasion for such a benefit at all. But the _receivers_, we presume, reason upon this principle, that we never know the value of a blessing but by its loss. This is generally true: but would any one of them make himself a _slave_ for years, that he might run the chance of the pleasures of _manumission_? Or that he might taste the charms of liberty with _a greater relish_? Nor is the assertion less false in every other consideration. For if their happiness consists in the few _holy-days_, which _in the colonies_ they are permitted to enjoy, what must be their situation _in their own country_, where the whole year is but one continued holy-day, or cessation from discipline and fatigue?--If in the possession of _a mean and contracted spot_, what must be their situation, where a whole region is their own, producing almost spontaneously the comforts of life, and requiring for its cultivation none of those hours, which should be appropriated to _sleep_?--If in the pleasures of the _colonial dance_, what must it be in _their own country_, where they may dance for ever; where there is no stated hour to interrupt their felicity, no intolerable labour immediately to succeed their recreations, and no overseer to receive them under the discipline of the lash?--If these therefore are the only circumstances, by which the assertion can be proved, we may venture to say, without fear of opposition, that it can never be proved at all. But these are not the only circumstances. It is said that they are barbarous at home.--But do you _receivers_ civilize them?--Your unwillingness to convert them to Christianity, because you suppose you must use them more kindly when converted, is but a bad argument in favour of the fact. It is affirmed again, that their manner of life, and their situation is such in their own country, that to say they are happy is a jest. "But who are you, who pretend to judge[103] of another man's happiness? That state which each man, under the guidance of his maker, forms for himself, and not one man for another? To know what constitutes mine or your happiness, is the sole prerogative of him who created us, and cast us in so various and different moulds. Did your slaves ever complain to you of their unhappiness, amidst their native woods and desarts? Or, rather, let me ask, did they ever cease complaining of their condition under you their lordly masters? Where they see, indeed, the accommodations of civil life, but see them all pass to others, themselves unbenefited by them. Be so gracious then, ye petty tyrants over human freedom, to let your slaves judge for themselves, what it is which makes their own happiness, and then see whether they do not place it _in the return to their own country_, rather than in the contemplation of your grandeur, of which their misery makes so large a part." But since you speak with so much confidence on the subject, let us ask you _receivers_ again, if you have ever been informed by your unfortunate slaves, that they had no connexions in the country from which they have forcibly been torn away: or, if you will take upon you to assert, that they never sigh, when they are alone; or that they never relate to each other their tales of misery and woe. But you judge of them, perhaps, in an happy moment, when you are dealing out to them their provisions for the week; and are but little aware, that, though the countenance may be cheered with a momentary smile, the heart may be exquisitely tortured. Were you to shew us, indeed, that there are laws, subject to no evasion, by which you are obliged to clothe and feed them in a comfortable manner; were you to shew us that they are protected[104] at all; or that even _one_ in a _thousand_ of those masters have suffered death[105], who have been guilty of _premeditated_ murder to their slaves, you would have a better claim to our belief: but you can neither produce the instances nor the laws. The people, of whom you speak, are _slaves_, are your own _property_, are wholly _at your own disposal_; and this idea is sufficient to overturn your assertions of their happiness. But we shall now mention a circumstance, which, in the present case, will have more weight than all the arguments which have hitherto been advanced. It is an opinion, which the _Africans_ universally entertain, that, as soon as death shall release them from the hands of their oppressors, they shall immediately be wafted back to their native plains, there to exist again, to enjoy the sight of their beloved countrymen, and to spend the whole of their new existence in scenes of tranquillity and delight; and so powerfully does this notion operate upon them, as to drive them frequently to the horrid extremity of putting a period to their lives. Now if these suicides are frequent, (which no person can deny) what are they but a proof, that the situation of those who destroy themselves must have been insupportably wretched: and if the thought of returning to their country after death, _when they have experienced the colonial joys_, constitutes their supreme felicity, what are they but a proof, that they think there is as much difference between the two situations, as there is between misery and delight? Nor is the assertion of the _receivers_ less liable to a refutation in the instance of those, who terminate their own existence, than of those, whom nature releases from their persecutions. They die with a smile upon their face, and their funerals are attended by a vast concourse of their countrymen, with every possible demonstration of joy[106]. But why this unusual mirth, if their departed brother has left an happy place? Or if he has been taken from the care of an indulgent master, who consulted his pleasures, and administered to his wants? But alas, it arises from hence, that _he is gone to his happy country_: a circumstance, sufficient of itself, to silence a myriad of those specious arguments, which the imagination has been racked, and will always be racked to produce, in favour of a system of tyranny and oppression. It remains only, that we should now conclude the chapter with a fact, which will shew that the account, which we have given of the situation of slaves, is strictly true, and will refute at the same time all the arguments which have hitherto been, and may yet be brought by the _receivers_, to prove that their treatment is humane. In one of the western colonies of the Europeans, [107]six hundred and fifty thousand slaves were imported within an hundred years; at the expiration of which time, their whole posterity were found to amount to one hundred and forty thousand. This fact will ascertain the treatment of itself. For how shamefully must these unfortunate people have been oppressed? What a dreadful havock must famine, fatigue, and cruelty, have made among them, when we consider, that the descendants of _six hundred and fifty thousand_ people in the prime of life, gradually imported within a century, are less numerous than those, which only _ten thousand_[108] would have produced in the same period, under common advantages, and in a country congenial to their constitutions? But the _receivers_ have probably great merit on the occasion. Let us therefore set it down to their humanity. Let us suppose for once, that this incredible waste of the human species proceeds from a benevolent design; that, sensible of the miseries of a servile state, they resolve to wear out, as fast as they possibly can, their unfortunate slaves, that their miseries may the sooner end, and that a wretched posterity may be prevented from sharing their parental condition. Now, whether this is the plan of reasoning which the _receivers_ adopt, we cannot take upon us to decide; but true it is, that the effect produced is exactly the same, as if they had reasoned wholly on this _benevolent_ principle. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 097: The articles of war are frequently read at the head of every regiment in the service, stating those particular actions which are to be considered as crimes.] [Footnote 098: We cannot omit here to mention one of the customs, which has been often brought as a palliation of slavery, and which prevailed but a little time ago, and we are doubtful whether it does not prevail now, in the metropolis of this country, of kidnapping men for the service of the East-India Company. Every subject, as long as he behaves well, has a right to the protection of government; and the tacit permission of such a scene of iniquity, when it becomes known, is as much a breach of duty in government, as the conduct of those subjects, who, on other occasions, would be termed, and punished as, rebellious.] [Footnote 099: The expences of every parish are defrayed by a poll-tax on negroes, to save which they pretend to liberate those who are past labour; but they still keep them employed in repairing fences, or in doing some trifling work on a scanty allowance. For to free a _field-negroe_, so long as he can work, is a maxim, which, notwithstanding the numerous boasted manumissions, no master _ever thinks of adopting_ in the colonies.] [Footnote 100: They must be cultivated always on a _Sunday_, and frequently in those hours which should be appropriated to _sleep_, or the wretched possessors must be inevitably _starved_.] [Footnote 101: They are allowed in general three holy-days at Christmas, but in Jamaica they have two also at Easter, and two at Whitsuntide: so that on the largest scale, they have only seven days in a year, or one day in fifty-two. But this is on a supposition, that the receivers do not break in upon the afternoons, which they are frequently too apt to do. If it should be said that Sunday is an holy-day, it is not true; it is so far an holy-day, that they do not work for their masters; but such an holy-day, that if they do not employ it in the cultivation of their little spots, they must _starved_.] [Footnote 102: These dances are usually in the middle of the night; and so desirous are these unfortunate people of obtaining but a joyful hour, that they not only often give up their sleep, but add to the labours of the day, by going several miles to obtain it.] [Footnote 103: Bishop of Glocester's sermon, preached before the society for the propagation of the gospel, at the anniversary meeting, on the 21st of February, 1766.] [Footnote 104: There is a law, (but let the reader remark, that it prevails but in _one_ of the colonies), against mutilation. It took its rise from the frequency of the inhuman practice. But though a master cannot there chop off the limb of a slave with an axe, he may yet work, starve, and beat him to death with impunity.] [Footnote 105: _Two_ instances are recorded by the _receivers_, out of about _fifty-thousand_, where a white man has suffered death for the murder of a negroe; but the receivers do not tell us, that these suffered more because they were the pests of society, than because the _murder of slaves was a crime_.] [Footnote 106: A negroe-funeral is considered as a curious sight, and is attended with singing, dancing, musick, and every circumstance that can shew the attendants to be happy on the occasion.] [Footnote 107: In 96 years, ending in 1774, 800,000 slaves had been imported into the French part of St. Domingo, of which there remained only 290,000 in 1774. Of this last number only 140,000 were creoles, or natives of the island, i. e. of 650,000 slaves, the whole posterity were 140,000. _Considerations sur la Colonie de St. Dominique_,(See errata--should be read as "_St. Domingue_") published by authority in 1777.] [Footnote 108: Ten thousand people under fair advantages, and in a soil congenial to their constitutions, and where the means of subsistence are easy, should produce in a century 160,000. This is the proportion in which the Americans increased; and the Africans in their own country increase in the same, if not in a greater proportion. Now as the climate of the colonies is as favourable to their health as that of their own country, the causes of the prodigious decrease in the one, and increase in the other, will be more conspicuous.] * * * * * CHAP. X. We have now taken a survey of the treatment which the unfortunate _Africans_ undergo, when they are put into the hands of the _receivers_. This treatment, by the four first chapters of the present part of this Essay, appears to be wholly insupportable, and to be such as no human being can apply to another, without the imputation of such crimes, as should make him tremble. But as many arguments are usually advanced by those who have any interest in the practice, by which they would either exculpate the treatment, or diminish its severity, we allotted the remaining chapters for their discussion. In these we considered the probability of such a treatment against the motives of interest; the credit that was to be given to those disinterested writers on the subject, who have recorded particular instances of barbarity; the inferiority of the _Africans_ to the human species; the comparisons that are generally made with respect to their situation; the positive scenes of felicity which they are said to enjoy, and every other argument, in short, that we have found to have ever been advanced in the defence of slavery. These have been all considered, and we may venture to pronounce, that, instead of answering the purpose for which they were intended, they serve only to bring such circumstances to light, as clearly shew, that if ingenuity were racked to invent a situation, that would be the most distressing and insupportable to the human race; it could never invent one, that would suit the description better, than the--_colonial slavery_. If this then be the case, and if slaves, notwithstanding all the arguments to the contrary, are exquisitely miserable, we ask you _receivers, by what right_ you reduce them to so wretched a situation? You reply, that you _buy them_; that your _money_ constitutes your _right_, and that, like all other things which you purchase, they are wholly at your own disposal. Upon this principle alone it was, that we professed to view your treatment, or examine your right, when we said, that "the question[109] resolved itself into two separate parts for discussion; into the _African_ commerce, as explained in the history of slavery, and the subsequent slavery in the colonies, _as founded on the equity of the commerce_." Now, since it appears that this commerce, upon the fullest investigation, is contrary to "_the principles[110] of law and government, the dictates of reason, the common maxims of equity, the laws of nature, the admonitions of conscience, and, in short, the whole doctrine of natural religion_," it is evident that the _right_, which is founded upon it, must be the same; and that if those things only are lawful in the sight of God, which are either virtuous in themselves, or proceed from virtuous principles, you _have no right over them at all_. You yourselves also confess this. For when we ask you, whether any human being has a right to sell you, you immediately answer, No; as if nature revolted at the thought, and as if it was so contradictory to your own feelings, as not to require consideration. But who are you, that have this exclusive charter of trading in the liberties of mankind? When did nature, or rather the Author of nature, make so partial a distinction between you and them? When did He say, that you should have the privilege of selling others, and that others should not have the privilege of selling you? Now since you confess, that no person whatever has a right to dispose of you in this manner, you must confess also, that those things are unlawful to be done to you, which are usually done in consequence of the sale. Let us suppose then, that in consequence of the _commerce_ you were forced into a ship; that you were conveyed to another country; that you were sold there; that you were confined to incessant labour; that you were pinched by continual hunger and thirst; and subject to be whipped, cut, and mangled at discretion, and all this at the hands of those, whom you had never offended; would you not think that you had a right to resist their treatment? Would you not resist it with a safe conscience? And would you not be surprized, if your resistance should be termed rebellion?--By the former premises you must answer, yes.--Such then is the case with the wretched _Africans_. They have a right to resist your proceedings. They can resist them, and yet they cannot justly be considered as rebellious. For though we suppose them to have been guilty of crimes to one another; though we suppose them to have been the most abandoned and execrable of men, yet are they perfectly innocent with respect to you _receivers_. You have no right to touch even the hair of their heads without their own consent. It is not your money, that can invest you with a right. Human liberty can neither be bought nor sold. Every lash that you give them is unjust. It is a lash against nature and religion, and will surely stand recorded against you, since they are all, with respect to your _impious_ selves, in a state of nature; in a state of original dissociation; perfectly free. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 109: See Part II Chapter I second paragraph.] [Footnote 110: See Part II Chapter IX last paragraph.] * * * * * CHAP. XI. Having now considered both the _commerce_ and _slavery_, it remains only to collect such arguments as are scattered in different parts of the work, and to make such additional remarks, as present themselves on the subject. And first, let us ask you, who have studied the law of nature, and you, who are learned in the law of the land, if all property must not be inferiour in its nature to its possessor, or, in other words, (for it is a case, which every person must bring home to his own breast) if you suppose that any human being can have _a property in yourselves_? Let us ask you appraisers, who scientifically know the value of things, if any human creature is equivalent only to any of the trinkets that you wear, or at most, to any of the horses that you ride: or in other words, if you have ever considered the most costly things that you have valued, as _equivalent to yourselves?_ Let us ask you rationalists, if man, as a reasonable being, is not _accountable_ for his actions, and let us put the same question to you, who have studied the divine writings? Let us ask you parents, if ever you thought that you possessed an _authority_ as such, or if ever you expected a _duty_ from your sons; and let us ask you sons, if ever you felt an impulse in your own breasts to _obey_ your parents. Now, if you should all answer as we could wish, if you should all answer consistently with reason, nature, and the revealed voice of God, what a dreadful argument will present itself against the commerce and slavery of the human species, when we reflect, that no man whatever can be bought or reduced to the situation of a slave, _but he must instantly become a brute, he must instantly be reduced to the value of those things, which were made for his own use and convenience; he must instantly cease to be accountable for his actions, and his authority as a parent, and his duty as a son, must be instantly no more_. Neither does it escape our notice, when we are speaking of the fatal wound which every social duty must receive, how considerably Christianity suffers by the conduct of you _receivers_. For by prosecuting this impious commerce, you keep the _Africans_ in a state of perpetual ferocity and barbarism; and by prosecuting it in such a manner, as must represent your religion, as a system of robbery and oppression, you not only oppose the propagation of the gospel, as far as you are able yourselves, but throw the most certain impediments in the way of others, who might attempt the glorious and important task. Such also is the effect, which the subsequent slavery in the colonies must produce. For by your inhuman treatment of the unfortunate _Africans_ there, you create the same insuperable impediments to a conversion. For how must they detest the very name of _Christians_, when you _Christians_ are deformed by so many and dreadful vices? How must they detest that system of religion, which appears to resist the natural rights of men, and to give a sanction to brutality and murder? But, as we are now mentioning Christianity, we must pause for a little time, to make a few remarks on the arguments which are usually deduced from thence by the _receivers_, in defence of their system of oppression. For the reader may readily suppose, that, if they did not hesitate to bring the _Old_ Testament in support of their barbarities, they would hardly let the _New_ escape them. _St. Paul_, having converted _Onesimus_ to the Christian faith, who was a fugitive slave of _Philemon_, sent him back to his master. This circumstance has furnished the _receivers_ with a plea, that Christianity encourages slavery. But they have not only strained the passages which they produce in support of their assertions, but are ignorant of historical facts. The benevolent apostle, in the letter which he wrote to _Philemon_, the master of _Onesimus_, addresses him to the following effect: "I send him back to you, but not in his former capacity[111], _not now as a servant, but above a servant, a brother beloved_. In this manner I beseech you to receive him, for though I could _enjoin_ you to do it, yet I had rather it should be a matter of your _own will_, than of _necessity_." It appears that the same _Onesimus_, when he was sent back, was no longer _a slave_, that he was a minister of the gospel, that he was joined with _Tychicus_ in an ecclesiastical commission to the church of the _Colossians_, and was afterwards bishop of _Ephesus_. If language therefore has any meaning, and if history has recorded a fact which may be believed, there is no case more opposite to the doctrine of the _receivers_, than this which they produce in its support. It is said again, that Christianity, among the many important precepts which it contains, does not furnish us with one for the abolition of slavery. But the reason is obvious. Slavery at the time of the introduction of the gospel was universally prevalent, and if Christianity had abruptly declared, that the millions of slaves should have been made free, who were then in the world, it would have been universally rejected, as containing doctrines that were dangerous, if not destructive, to society. In order therefore that it might be universally received, it never meddled, by any positive precept, with the civil institutions of the times; but though it does not expressly say, that "you shall neither buy, nor sell, nor possess a slave," it is evident that, in its general tenour, it sufficiently militates against the custom. The first doctrine which it inculcates, is that of _brotherly love_. It commands good will towards men. It enjoins us to love our neighbours as ourselves, and to do unto all men, as we would that they should do unto us. And how can any man fulfil this scheme of universal benevolence, who reduces an unfortunate person _against his will_, to the _most insupportable_ of all human conditions; who considers him as his _private property_, and treats him, not as a brother, nor as one of the same parentage with himself, but as an _animal of the brute creation?_ But the most important doctrine is that, by which we are assured that mankind are to exist in a future state, and to give an account of those actions, which they have severally done in the flesh. This strikes at the very root of slavery. For how can any man be justly called to an account for his actions, whose actions are not _at his own disposal?_ This is the case with the _proper_[112] slave. His liberty is absolutely bought and _appropriated_; and if the purchase is _just and equitable_, he is _under the necessity_ of perpetrating any crime, which the purchaser may order him to commit, or, in other words, of ceasing to be _accountable for his actions_. These doctrines therefore are sufficient to shew, that slavery is incompatible, with the Christian system. The _Europeans_ considered them as such, when, at the close of the twelfth century, they resisted, their hereditary prejudices, and occasioned its abolition. Hence one, among many other proofs, that Christianity was the production of infinite wisdom; that though it did not take such express cognizance of the wicked national institutions of the times, as should hinder its reception, it should yet contain such doctrines, as, when it should be fully established, would be sufficient for the abolition of them all. Thus then is the argument of you _receivers_ ineffectual, and your conduct impious. For, by the prosecution of this wicked slavery and commerce, you not only oppose the propagation of that gospel which was ordered to be preached unto every creature, and bring it into contempt, but you oppose its tenets also: first, because you violate that law of _universal benevolence_, which was to take away those hateful distinctions of _Jew_ and _Gentile_, _Greek_ and _Barbarian, bond_ and _free_, which prevailed when the gospel was introduced; and secondly, because, as every man is to give an account of his actions hereafter, it is necessary that he should be _free_. Another argument yet remains, which, though nature will absolutely turn pale at the recital, cannot possibly be omitted. In those wars, which are made for the sake of procuring slaves, it is evident that the contest must be generally obstinate, and that great numbers must be slain on both sides, before the event can be determined. This we may reasonably apprehend to be the case: and we have shewn[113], that there have not been wanting instances, where the conquerors have been so incensed at the resistance they have found, that their spirit of vengeance has entirely got the better of their avarice, and they have murdered, in cool blood, every individual, without discrimination, either of age or sex. From these and other circumstances, we thought we had sufficient reason to conclude, that, where _ten_ were supposed to be taken, an _hundred_, including the victors and vanquished, might be supposed to perish. Now, as the annual exportation from _Africa_ consists of an hundred thousand men, and as the two orders, of those who are privately kidnapped by individuals, and of those, who are publickly seized by virtue of the authority of their prince, compose together, at least, nine-tenths of the _African_ slaves, it follows, that about ten thousand consist of convicts and prisoners of war. The last order is the most numerous. Let us suppose then that only six thousand of this order are annually sent into servitude, and it will immediately appear that no less than _sixty-thousand_ people annually perish in those wars, which are made only for the purpose of procuring slaves. But that this number, which we believe to be by no means exaggerated, may be free from all objection, we will include those in the estimate, who die as they are travelling to the ships. Many of these unfortunate people have a journey of one thousand miles to perform on foot, and are driven like sheep through inhospitable woods and deserts, where they frequently die in great numbers, from fatigue and want. Now if to those, who thus perish on the _African_ continent, by war and travelling, we subjoin those[114], who afterwards perish on the voyage, and in the seasoning together, it will appear that, in every yearly attempt to supply the colonies, an _hundred thousand_ must perish, even before _one_ useful individual can be obtained. Gracious God! how wicked, how beyond all example impious, must be that servitude, which cannot be carried on without the continual murder of so many and innocent persons! What punishment is not to be expected for such monstrous and unparalleled barbarities! For if the blood of one man, unjustly shed, cries with so loud a voice for the divine vengeance, how shall the cries and groans of an _hundred thousand_ men, _annually murdered_, ascend the celestial mansions, and bring down that punishment, which such enormities deserve! But do we mention punishment? Do we allude to that punishment, which shall be inflicted on men as individuals, in a future life? Do we allude to that awful day, which shall surely come, when the master shall behold his murdered negroe face to face? When a train of mutilated slaves shall be brought against him? When he shall stand confounded and abashed? Or, do we allude to that punishment, which may be inflicted on them here, as members of a wicked community? For as a body politick, if its members are ever so numerous, may be considered as an whole, acting of itself, and by itself, in all affairs in which it is concerned, so it is accountable, as such, for its conduct; and as these kinds of polities have only their existence here, so it is only in this world, that, as such, they can be punished. "Now, whether we consider the crime, with respect to the individuals immediately concerned in this most barbarous and cruel traffick, or whether we consider it as patronized[115] and encouraged by the laws of the land, it presents to our view an equal degree of enormity. A crime, founded on a dreadful pre-eminence in wickedness,--a crime, which being both of individuals and the nation, must sometime draw down upon us the heaviest judgment of Almighty God, who made of one blood all the sons of men, and who gave to all equally a natural right to liberty; and who, ruling all the kingdoms of the earth with equal providential justice, cannot suffer such deliberate, such monstrous iniquity, to pass long unpunished[116]." But alas! he seems already to have interfered on the occasion! The violent[117] and supernatural agitations of all the elements, which, for a series of years, have prevailed in those European settlements, where the unfortunate _Africans_ are retained in a state of slavery, and which have brought unspeakable calamities on the inhabitants, and publick losses on the states to which they severally belong, are so many awful visitations of God for this inhuman violation of his laws. And it is not perhaps unworthy of remark, that as the subjects of Great-Britain have two thirds of this impious commerce in their own hands, so they have suffered[118] in the same proportion, or more severely than the rest. How far these misfortunes may appear to be acts of providence, and to create an alarm to those who have been accustomed to refer every effect to its apparent cause; who have been habituated to stop there, and to overlook the finger of God; because it is slightly covered under the veil of secondary laws, we will not pretend to determine? but this we will assert with confidence, that the _Europeans_ have richly deserved them all; that the fear of sympathy, which can hardly be restrained on other melancholy occasions, seems to forget to flow at the relation of these; and that we can never, with any shadow of justice, with prosperity to the undertakers of those, whose success must be at the expence of the happiness of millions of their fellow-creatures. But this is sufficient. For if liberty is only an adventitious right; if men are by no means superiour to brutes; if every social duty is a curse; if cruelty is highly to be esteemed; if murder is strictly honourable, and Christianity is a lye; then it is evident, that the _African_ slavery may be pursued, without either the remorse of conscience, or the imputation of a crime. But if the contrary of this is true, which reason must immediately evince, it is evident that no custom established among men was ever more impious; since it is contrary to _reason, justice, nature, the principles of law and government, the whole doctrine, in short, of natural religion, and the revealed voice of God_. * * * * * FOOTNOTES [Footnote 111: Epist. to Philemon.] [Footnote 112: The _African_ slave is of this description; and we could wish, in all our arguments on the present subject, to be understood as having spoken only of _proper slaves_. The slave who is condemned to the oar, to the fortifications, and other publick works, is in a different predicament. His liberty is not _appropriated_, and therefore none of those consequences can be justly drawn, which have been deduced in the present case.] [Footnote 113: See the description of an African battle (Footnote 049).] [Footnote 114: The lowest computation is 40,000, (Footnote 060).] [Footnote 115: The legislature has squandered away more money in the prosecution of the slave trade, within twenty years, than in any other trade whatever, having granted from the year 1750, to the year 1770, the sum of 300,000 pounds.] [Footnote 116: Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, by the Rev. Peter Peckard.] [Footnote 117: The first noted earthquake at Jamaica, happened June the 7th 1692, when Port Royal was totally sunk. This was succeeded by one in the year 1697, and by another in the year 1722, from which time to the present, these regions of the globe seem to have been severely visited, but particularly during the last six or seven years. See a general account of the calamities, occasioned by the late tremendous hurricanes and earthquakes in the West-Indian islands, by Mr. Fowler.] [Footnote 118: The many ships of war belonging to the British navy, which were lost with all their crews in these dreadful hurricanes, will sufficiently prove the fact.] * * * * * FINIS. * * * * * 
11489	----	SOME HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF GUINEA, ITS SITUATION, PRODUCE, AND THE GENERAL DISPOSITION OF ITS INHABITANTS. AN INQUIRY INTO THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE SLAVE TRADE, ITS NATURE AND LAMENTABLE EFFECTS. 1771 BY ANTHONY BENEZET SOME HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF GUINEA, ITS SITUATION, PRODUCE, and the general DISPOSITION of its INHABITANTS. WITH An Inquiry into the RISE and PROGRESS OF THE SLAVE TRADE, Its NATURE, and lamentable EFFECTS. ALSO A REPUBLICATION of the Sentiments of several Authors of Note on this interesting Subject: Particularly an Extract of a Treatise written by GRANVILLE SHARPE. By ANTHONY BENEZET ACTS xvii. 24, 26. GOD, _that made the world hath made of_ one blood _all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the--bounds of their habitation._ PHILADELPHIA: Printed MDCCLXXI. LONDON: Re-printed MDCCLXXII. Introduction. CHAPTER I. _A GENERAL account of_ Guinea; _particularly those parts on the rivers_ Senegal _and_ Gambia. CHAP. II. _Account of the_ Ivory-Coast, _the_ Gold-Coast _and the Slave-Coast_. CHAP. III. _Of the kingdoms of_ Benin, Kongo _and_ Angola. CHAP. IV. Guinea, _first discovered and subdued by the_ Arabians. _The Portuguese make descents on the coast, and carry off the natives. Oppression of the_ Indians: _De la Casa pleads their cause_. CHAP. V. _The_ English's _first trade to the coast of_ Guinea: _Violently carry off some of the Negros._ CHAP. VI. _Slavery more tolerable under_ Pagans _and_ Turks _than in the colonies. As christianity prevailed, ancient slavery declined_. CHAP. VII. Montesquieu's _sentiments of slavery_. Morgan Godwyn's _advocacy on behalf of Negroes and Indians, &c._ CHAP. VIII. _Grievous treatment of the Negroes in the colonies, &c._ CHAP. IX. _Desire of gain the true motive of the_ Slave trade. _Misrepresentation of the state of the Negroes in Guinea_. CHAP. X. _State of the Government in_ Guinea, &c. CHAP. XI. _Accounts of the cruel methods used in carrying on of the_ Slave trade, &c. CHAP. XII. _Extracts of several voyages to the coast of_ Guinea, &c. CHAP. XIII. _Numbers of Negroes, yearly brought from_ Guinea, _by the_ English, &c. CHAP. XIV. _Observations on the situation and disposition of the Negroes in the northern colonies_, &c. CHAP. XV. Europeans _capable of bearing reasonable labour in the_ West Indies, &c. _Extracts from_ Granville Sharp's _representations,_ &c. _Sentiments of several authors,_ viz. George Wallace, Francis Hutcheson, _and_ James Foster. _Extracts of an address to the assembly of_ Virginia. _Extract of the bishop of_ Gloucester's _sermon_. INTRODUCTION. The slavery of the Negroes having, of late, drawn the attention of many serious minded people; several tracts have been published setting forth its inconsistency with every christian and moral virtue, which it is hoped will have weight with the judicious; especially at a time when the liberties of mankind are become so much the subject of general attention. For the satisfaction of the serious enquirer who may not have the opportunity of seeing those tracts, and such others who are sincerely desirous that the iniquity of this practice may become effectually apparent, to those in whose power, it may be to put a stop to any farther progress therein; it is proposed, hereby, to republish the most material parts of said tracts; and in order to enable the reader to form a true judgment of this matter, which, tho' so very important, is generally disregarded, or so artfully misrepresented by those whose interest leads them to vindicate it, as to bias the opinions of people otherwise upright; some account will be here given of the different parts of Africa, from which the Negroes are brought to America; with an impartial relation from what motives the Europeans were first induced to undertake, and have since continued this iniquitous traffic. And here it will not be improper to premise, that tho' wars, arising from the common depravity of human nature, have happened, as well among the Negroes as other nations, and the weak sometimes been made captives to the strong; yet nothing appears, in the various relations of the intercourse and trade for a long time carried on by the Europeans on that coast, which would induce us to believe, that there is any real foundation for that argument, so commonly advanced in vindication of that trade, viz. "_That the slavery of the Negroes took its rise from a desire, in the purchasers, to save the lives of such of them as were taken captives in war, who would otherwise have been sacrificed to the implacable revenge of their conquerors._" A plea which when compared with the history of those times, will appear to be destitute of Truth; and to have been advanced, and urged, principally by such as were concerned in reaping the gain of this infamous traffic, as a palliation of that, against which their own reason and conscience must have raised fearful objections. SOME HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF GUINEA. * * * * * [Price 2s. 6d. stitched.] CHAP. I. Guinea affords an easy living to its inhabitants, with but little toil. The climate agrees well with the natives, but extremely unhealthful to the Europeans. Produces provisions in the greatest plenty. Simplicity of their housholdry. The coast of Guinea described from the river Senegal to the kingdom of Angola. The fruitfulness of that part lying on and between the two great rivers Senegal and Gambia. Account of the different nations settled there. Order of government amongst the Jalofs. Good account of some of the Fulis. The Mandingos; their management, government, &c. Their worship. M. Adanson's account of those countries. Surprizing vegetation. Pleasant appearance of the country. He found the natives very sociable and obliging. When the Negroes are considered barely in their present abject state of slavery, broken-spirited and dejected; and too easy credit is given to the accounts we frequently hear or read of their barbarous and savage way of living in their own country; we shall be naturally induced to look upon them as incapable of improvement, destitute, miserable, and insensible of the benefits of life; and that our permitting them to live amongst us, even on the most oppressive terms, is to them a favour. But, on impartial enquiry, the case will appear to be far otherwise; we shall find that there is scarce a country in the whole world, that is better calculated for affording the necessary comforts of life to its inhabitants, with less solicitude and toil, than Guinea. And that notwithstanding the long converse of many of its inhabitants with (often) the worst of the Europeans, they still retain a great deal of innocent simplicity; and, when not stirred up to revenge from the frequent abuses they have received from the Europeans in general, manifest themselves to be a humane, sociable people, whose faculties are as capable of improvement as those of other Men; and that their oeconomy and government is, in many respects, commendable. Hence it appears they might have lived happy, if not disturbed by the Europeans; more especially, if these last had used such endeavours as their christian profession requires, to communicate to the ignorant Africans that superior knowledge which Providence had favoured them with. In order to set this matter in its true light, and for the information of those well-minded people who are desirous of being fully acquainted with the merits of a cause, which is of the utmost consequence; as therein the lives and happiness of thousands, and hundreds of thousands, of our fellow _Men_ have fallen, and are daily falling, a sacrifice to selfish avarice and usurped power, I will here give some account of the several divisions of those parts of Africa from whence the Negroes are brought, with a summary of their produce; the disposition of their respective inhabitants; their improvements, &c. &c. extracted from authors of credit; mostly such as have been principal officers in the English, French and Dutch factories, and who resided many years in those countries. But first it is necessary to premise, as a remark generally applicable to the whole coast of Guinea, "_That the Almighty, who has determined and appointed the bounds of the habitation of men on the face of the earth_" in the manner that is most conducive to the well-being of their different natures and dispositions, has so ordered it, that altho' Guinea is extremely unhealthy[A] to the Europeans, of whom many thousands have met there with a miserable and untimely end, yet it is not so with the Negroes, who enjoy a good state of health[B] and are able to procure to themselves a comfortable subsistence, with much less care and toil than is necessary in our more northern climate; which last advantage arises not only from the warmth of the climate, but also from the overflowing of the rivers, whereby the land is regularly moistened and rendered extremely fertile; and being in many places improved by culture, abounds with grain and fruits, cattle, poultry, &c. The earth yields all the year a fresh supply of food: Few clothes are requisite, and little art necessary in making them, or in the construction of their houses, which are very simple, principally calculated to defend them from the tempestuous seasons and wild beasts; a few dry reeds covered with matts serve for their beds. The other furniture, except what belongs to cookery, gives the women but little trouble; the moveables of the greatest among them amounting only to a few earthen pots, some wooden utensils, and gourds or calabashes; from these last, which grow almost naturally over their huts, to which they afford an agreeable shade, they are abundantly stocked with good clean vessels for most houshold uses, being of different sizes, from half a pint to several gallons. [Footnote A: _Gentleman's Magazine, Supplement, 1763. Extract of a letter wrote from the island of Senegal, by Mr. Boone, practitioner of physic there, to Dr. Brocklesby of London._ "To form just idea of the unhealthiness of the climate, it will be necessary to conceive a country extending three hundred leagues East, and more to the North and South. Through this country several large rivers empty themselves into the sea; particularly the Sanaga, Gambia and Sherbro; these, during the rainy months, which begin in July and continue till October, overflow their banks, and lay the whole flat country under water; and indeed, the very sudden rise of these rivers is incredible to persons who have never been within the tropicks, and are unacquainted with the violent rains that fall there. At Galem, nine hundred miles from the mouth of the Sanaga, I am informed that the waters rise one hundred and fifty feet perpendicular, from the bed of the river. This information I received from a gentleman, who was surgeon's mate to a party sent there, and the only survivor of three captains command, each consisting of one captain, two lieutenants, one ensign, a surgeon's mate, three serjeants, three corporals, and fifty privates. "When the rains are at an end, which usually happens in October, the intense heat of the sun soon dries up the waters which lie on the higher parts of the earth, and the remainder forms lakes of stagnated waters, in which are found all sorts of dead animals. These waters every day decrease, till at last they are quite exhaled, and then the effluvia that arises is almost insupportable. At this season, the winds blow so very hot from off the land, that I can compare them to nothing but the heat proceeding from the mouth of an oven. This occasions the Europeans to be sorely vexed with bilious and putrid fevers. From this account you will not be surprized, that the total loss of British subjects in this island only, amounted to above two thousand five hundred, in the space of three years that I was there, in such a putrid moist air as I have described." ] [Footnote B: James Barbot, agent general to the French African company, in his account of Africa, page 105, says, "The natives are seldom troubled with any distempers, being little affected with the unhealthy air. In tempestuous times they keep much within doors; and when exposed to the weather, their skins being suppled, and pores closed by daily anointing with palm oil, the weather can make but little impression on them."] That part of Africa from which the Negroes are sold to be carried into slavery, commonly known by the name of Guinea, extends along the coast three or four thousand miles. Beginning at the river Senegal, situate about the 17th degree of North latitude, being the nearest part of Guinea, as well to Europe as to North America; from thence to the river Gambia, and in a southerly course to Cape Sierra Leona, comprehends a coast of about seven hundred miles; being the same tract for which Queen Elizabeth granted charters to the first traders to that coast: from Sierra Leona, the land of Guinea takes a turn to the eastward, extending that course about fifteen hundred miles, including those several civilians known by name of _the Grain Coast, the Ivory Coast, the Gold Coast, and the Slave Coast, with the large kingdom of Benin_. From thence the land runs southward along the coast about twelve hundred miles, which contains the _kingdoms of Congo and Angola_; there the trade for slaves ends. From which to the southermost Cape of Africa, called the Cape of Good Hope, the country is settled by Caffres and Hottentots, who have never been concerned in the making or selling slaves. Of the parts which are above described, the first which presents itself to view, is that situate on the great river Senegal, which is said to be navigable more than a thousand miles, and is by travellers described to be very agreeable and fruitful. Andrew Brue, principal factor for the French African company, who lived sixteen years in that country, after describing its fruitfulness and plenty, near the sea, adds,[A] "The farther you go from the sea, the country on the river seems the more fruitful and well improved; abounding with Indian corn, pulse, fruit, &c. Here are vast meadows, which feed large herds of great and small cattle, and poultry numerous: The villages that lie thick on the river, shew the country is well peopled." The same author, in the account of a voyage he made up the river Gambia, the mouth of which lies about three hundred miles South of the Senegal, and is navigable about six hundred miles up the country, says,[B] "That he was surprized to see the land so well cultivated; scarce a spot lay unimproved; the low lands, divided by small canals, were all formed with rice, &c. the higher ground planted with millet, Indian corn, and pease of different sorts; their beef excellent; poultry plenty, and very cheap, as well as all other necessaries of life." Francis Moor, who was sent from England about the year 1735, in the service of the African company, and resided at James Fort, on the river Gambia, or in other factories on that river, about five years, confirms the above account of the fruitfulness of the country. William Smith, who was sent in the year 1726, by the African company, to survey their settlements throughout the whole coast of Guinea[C] says, "The country about the Gambia is pleasant and fruitful; provisions of all kinds being plenty and exceeding cheap." The country on and between the two above-mentioned rivers is large and extensive, inhabited principally by those three Negro nations known by the name of Jalofs, Fulis, and Mandingos. The Jalofs possess the middle of the country. The Fulis principal settlement is on both sides of the Senegal; great numbers of these people are also mixed with the Mandingos; which last are mostly settled on both sides the Gambia. The government of the Jalofs is represented as under a better regulation than can be expected from the common opinion we entertain of the Negroes. We are told in the Collection,[D] "That the King has under him several ministers of state, who assist him in the exercise of justice. _The grand Jerafo_ is the chief justice thro' all the King's dominions, and goes in circuit from time to time to hear complaints, and determine controversies. _The King's treasurer_ exercises the same employment, and has under him Alkairs, who are governors of towns or villages. That the _Kondi_, or _Viceroy_, goes the circuit with the chief justice, both to hear causes, and inspect into the behaviour of the _Alkadi_, or chief magistrate of every village in their several districts[E]." _Vasconcelas_, an author mentioned in the collection, says, "The ancientest are preferred to be the _Prince's counsellors_, who keep always about his person; and the men of most judgment and experience are the judges." _The Fulis_ are settled on both sides of the river _Senegal_: Their country, which is very fruitful and populous, extends near four hundred miles from East to West. They are generally of a deep tawny complexion, appearing to bear some affinity with the Moors, whose country they join on the North. They are good farmers, and make great harvest of corn, cotton, tobacco, &c. and breed great numbers of cattle of all kinds. _Bartholomew Stibbs_, (mentioned by _Fr. Moor_) in his account of that country says,[F] "_They were a cleanly, decent, industrious people, and very affable_." But the most particular account we have, of these people, is from _Francis Moor_ himself, who says,[G] "Some of these Fuli blacks who dwell on both sides the river Gambia, are in subjection to the Mandingos, amongst whom they dwell, having been probably driven out of their country by war or famine. They have chiefs of their own, who rule with much moderation. Few of them will drink brandy, or any thing stronger than water and sugar, being strict Mahometans. Their form of government goes on easy, because the people are of a good quiet disposition, and so well instructed in what is right, that a man who does ill, is the abomination of all, and, none will support him against the chief. In these countries, the natives are not covetous of land, desiring no more than what they use; and as they do not plough with horses and cattle, they can use but very little, therefore the Kings are willing to give the Fulis leave to live in their country, and cultivate their lands. If any of their people are known to be made slaves, all the Fulis will join to redeem them; they also support the old, the blind, and lame, amongst themselves; and as far as their abilities go, they supply the necessities of the Mandingos, great numbers of whom they have maintained in famine." _The author_, from his own observations, says, "They were rarely angry, and that he never heard them abuse one another." [Footnote A: Astley's collect. vol. 2. page 46.] [Footnote B: Astley's collection of voyages, vol. 2, page 86.] [Footnote C: William Smith's voyage to Guinea, page 31, 34.] [Footnote D: Astley's collection, vol. 2, page 358.] [Footnote E: Idem. 259.] [Footnote F: Moor's travels into distant parts of Africa, page 198.] [Footnote G: Ibid, page 21.] _The Mandingos_ are said by _A. Brue_ before mentioned, "To be the most numerous nation on the Gambia, besides which, numbers of them are dispersed over all these countries; being the most rigid Mahometans amongst the Negroes, they drink neither wine nor brandy, and are politer than the other Negroes. The chief of the trade goes through their hands. Many are industrious and laborious, keeping their ground well cultivated, and breeding a good stock of cattle.[A] Every town has an _Alkadi_, or _Governor_, who has great power; for most of them having two common fields of clear ground, one for corn, and the other for rice, _the Alkadi_ appoints the labour of all the people. The men work the corn ground, and the women and girls the rice ground; and as they all equally labour, so he equally divides the corn amongst them; and in case they are in want, the others supply them. This Alkadi decides all quarrels, and has the first voice in all conferences in town affairs." Some of these Mandingos who are settled at Galem, far up the river Senegal, can read and write Arabic tolerably, and are a good hospitable people, who carry on a trade with the inland nations."[B] They are extremely populous in those parts, their women being fruitful, and they not suffering any person amongst them, but such as are guilty of crimes, to be made slaves." We are told from Jobson,"[C] That the Mahometan Negroes say their prayers thrice a day. Each village has a priest who calls them to their duty. It is surprizing (says the author) as well as commendable, to see the modesty, attention, and reverence they observe during their worship. He asked some of their priests the purport of their prayers and ceremonies; their answer always was, _That they adored God by prostrating themselves before him; that by humbling themselves, they acknowledged their own insignificancy, and farther intreated him to forgive their faults, and to grant them all good and necessary things as well as deliverance from evil."_ Jobson takes notice of several good qualities in these Negroe priests, particularly their great sobriety. They gain their livelihood by keeping school for the education of the children. The boys are taught to read and write. They not only teach school, but rove about the country, teaching and instructing, for which the whole country is open to them; and they have a free course through all places, though the Kings may be at war with one another. [Footnote A: Astley's collect. vol. 2, page 269.] [Footnote B: Astley's collect. vol. 2, page 73.] [Footnote C: Ibid, 296.] The three fore-mentioned nations practise several trades, as smiths, potters, sadlers, and weavers. Their smiths particularly work neatly in gold and silver, and make knifes, hatchets, reaping hooks, spades and shares to cut iron, &c. &c. Their potters make neat tobacco pipes, and pots to boil their food. Some authors say that weaving is their principal trade; this is done by the women and girls, who spin and weave very fine cotton cloth, which they dye blue or black.[A] F. Moor says, the Jalofs particularly make great quantities of the cotton cloth; their pieces are generally twenty-seven yards long, and about nine inches broad, their looms being very narrow; these they sew neatly together, so as to supply the use of broad cloth. [Footnote A: F. Moor, 28.] It was in these parts of Guinea, that M. Adanson, correspondent of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, mentioned in some former publications, was employed from the year 1749, to the year 1753, wholly in making _natural_ and _philosophical_ observations on the country about the rivers Senegal and Gambia. Speaking of the great heats in Senegal, he says,[A] "It is to them that they are partly indebted for the fertility of their lands; which is so great, that, with little labour and care, there is no fruit nor grain but grow in great plenty." [Footnote A: M. Adanson's voyage to Senegal, &c, page 308.] Of the soil on the Gambia, he says,[A] "It is rich and deep, and amazingly fertile; it produces spontaneously, and almost without cultivation, all the necessaries of life, grain, fruit, herbs, and roots. Every thing matures to perfection, and is excellent in its kind."[B] One thing, which always surprized him, was the prodigious rapidity with which the sap of trees repairs any loss they may happen to sustain in that country: "And I was never," says he, "more astonished, than when landing four days after the locusts had devoured all the fruits and leaves, and even the buds of the trees, to find the trees covered with new leaves, and they did not seem to me to have suffered much."[C] "It was then," says the same author; "the fish season; you might see them in shoals approaching towards land. Some of those shoals were fifty fathom square, and the fish crowded together in such a manner, as to roll upon one another, without being able to swim. As soon as the Negroes perceive them coming towards land, they jump into the water with a basket in one hand, and swim with the other. They need only to plunge and to lift up their basket, and they are sure to return loaded with fish." Speaking of the appearance of the country, and of the disposition of the people, he says,[D] "Which way soever I turned mine eyes on this pleasant spot, I beheld a perfect image of pure nature; an agreeable solitude, bounded on every side by charming landscapes; the rural situation of cottages in the midst of trees; the ease and indolence of the Negroes, reclined under the shade of their spreading foliage; the simplicity of their dress and manners; the whole revived in my mind the idea of our first parents, and I seemed to contemplate the world in its primitive state. They are, generally speaking, very good-natured, sociable, and obliging. I was not a little pleased with this my first reception; it convinced me, that there ought to be a considerable abatement made in the accounts I had read and heard every where of the savage character of the Africans. I observed both in Negroes and Moors, great humanity and sociableness, which gave me strong hopes that I should be very safe amongst them, and meet with the success I desired in my enquiries after the curiosities of the country."[E] He was agreeably amused with the conversation of the Negroes, their _fables, dialogues_, and _witty stories_ with which they entertain each other alternately, according to their custom. Speaking of the remarks which the natives made to him, with relation to the _stars_ and _planets_, he says, "It is amazing, that such a rude and illiterate people, should reason so pertinently in regard to those heavenly bodies; there is no manner of doubt, but that with proper instruments, and a good will, they would become _excellent astronomers_." [Footnote A: Idem, page 164.] [Footnote B: M. Adanson, page 161.] [Footnote C: Idem, page 171.] [Footnote D: Ibid, page 54.] [Footnote E: Adanson, page 252, ibid.] CHAP. II _The Ivory Coast_; its soil and produce. The character of the _natives_ misrepresented by some authors. These misrepresentations occasioned by _the Europeans_ having treacherously carried off many of their people. _John Smith, surveyor to the African company_, his observations thereon. _John Snock's_ remarks. _The Gold Coast_ and _Slave Coast_, these have the most _European factories_, and furnish the greatest number of slaves to _the Europeans_. Exceeding fertile. The country of _Axim_, and of _Ante_. Good account of the _inland people_ Great fishery. Extraordinary trade for slaves. _The Slave Coast. The kingdom of Whidah_. Fruitful and pleasant. The natives kind and obliging. Very populous. Keep regular markets and fairs. Good order therein. Murder, adultery, and theft severely punished. The King's revenues. The principal people have an idea of the true God. Commendable care of the poor. Several small governments depend on _plunder_ and the _slave_ trade. That part of Guinea known by the name of the _Grain_, and _Ivory Coast,_ comes next in course. This coast extends about five hundred miles. The soil appears by account, to be in general fertile, producing abundance of rice and roots; indigo and cotton thrive without cultivation, and tobacco would be excellent, if carefully manufactured; they have fish in plenty; their flocks greatly increase, and their trees are loaded with fruit. They make a cotton cloth, which sells well on the Coast. In a word, the country is rich, and the commerce advantageous, and might be greatly augmented by such as would cultivate the friendship of the natives. These are represented by some writers as a rude, _treacherous people_, whilst several other _authors_ of credit give them a very different character, representing them as _sensible, courteous and the fairest traders on the coast of Guinea_. In the Collection, they are said[A] to be averse to drinking to excess, and such as do, are severely punished by the King's order: On enquiry why there is such a disagreement in the character given of these people, it appears, that though they are naturally inclined to be _kind to strangers_, with whom they are _fond_ of _trading_, yet the _frequent injuries_ done them by Europeans, have occasioned their being _suspicious and shy_. The same cause has been the occasion of the ill treatment they have sometimes given to innocent strangers, who have attempted to trade with them. As the Europeans have no settlement on this part of Guinea, the trade is carried on by signals from the ships, on the appearance of which the natives usually come on board in their canoes, bringing their gold-dust, ivory, &c. which has given opportunity to some villainous Europeans to carry them off with their effects, or retain them on board till a ransom is paid. It is noted by some, that since the European voyagers have carried away several of these people, their mistrust is so great, that it is very difficult to prevail on them to come on board. _William Smith_ remarks,[B] "As we past along this coast, we very often lay before a town, and fired a gun for the natives to come off, but no soul came near us; at length we learnt by some ships that were trading down the coast, that the natives came seldom on board an English ship, for fear of being detained or carried off; yet last some ventured on board, but if those chanced to spy any arms, they would all immediately take to their canoes, and make the best of their way home. They had then in their possession one _Benjamin Cross_ the mate of an English vessel, who was detained by them to make reprisals for some of their men, who had formerly been carried away by some English vessel." In the Collection we are told,[C]_This villainous custom is too often practised, chiefly by the Bristol and Liverpool ships, and is a great detriment to the slave trade on the windward coast. John Snock, mentioned in Bosman_[D] when on that coast, wrote, "We cast anchor, but not one Negro coming on board, I went on shore, and after having staid a while on the strand, some Negroes came to me; and being desirous to be informed why they did not come on board, I was answered that about two months before, the English had been there with two large vessels, and had ravaged the country, destroyed all their canoes, plundered their houses, and carried off some of their people, upon which the remainder fled to the inland country, where most of them were that time; so that there being not much to be done by us, we were obliged to return on board.[E] When I enquired after their wars with other countries, they told me they were not often troubled with them; but if any difference happened, they chose rather to end the dispute amicably, than to come to arms."[F] He found the inhabitants civil and good-natured. Speaking of the _King of Rio Seftré_ lower down the coast, he says, "He was a very agreeable, obliging man, and that all his subjects are civil, as well as very laborious in agriculture, and the pursuits of trade," _Marchais_ says,[G] "That though the country is very populous, yet none of the natives (except criminals) are sold for slaves." _Vaillant_ never heard of any settlement being made by the Europeans on this part of _Guinea_; and _Smith_ remarks,[H] "That these coasts, which are divided into several little kingdoms, and have seldom any wars, is the reason the slave trade is not so good here as on _the Gold and Slave Coast_, where the Europeans have several forts and factories." A plain evidence this, that it is the intercourse with the Europeans, and their settlements on the coast, which gives life to the slave trade. [Footnote A: Collection, vol. 2, page 560.] [Footnote B: W. Smith, page 111.] [Footnote C: Astley's collection, vol. 2, page 475.] [Footnote D: W. Bosman's description of Guinea, page 440.] [Footnote E: W. Bosman's description of Guinea, page 429.] [Footnote F: Ibid, 441.] [Footnote G: Astley's collection, Vol. 2, page 565.] [Footnote H: Smith's voyage to Guinea, page 112.] Next adjoining to the _Ivory Coast_, are those called the _Gold Coast_, and the _Slave Coast_; authors are not agreed about their bounds, but their extent together along the coast may be about five hundred miles. And as the policy, produce, and oeconomy of these two kingdoms of Guinea are much the same, I shall describe them together. Here the Europeans have the greatest number of forts and factories, from whence, by means of the Negro sailors, a trade is carried on above seven hundred miles back in the inland country; whereby great numbers of slaves are procured, as well by means of the wars which arise amongst the Negroes, or are fomented by the Europeans, as those brought from the back country. Here we find the natives _more reconciled to the European manners and trade_; but, at the same time, _much more inured to war_, and ready to assist the European traders in procuring loadings for the great number of vessels which come yearly on those coasts for slaves. This part of Guinea is agreed by historians to be, in general, _extraordinary fruitful and agreeable_; producing (according to the difference of the soil) vast quantities of rice and other grain; plenty of fruit and roots; palm wine and oil, and fish in great abundance, with much tame and wild cattle. Bosman, principal factor for the Dutch at D'Elmina, speaking of the country of Axim, which is situate towards the beginning of the Gold Coast, says,[A] "The Negro inhabitants are generally very rich, driving a great trade with the Europeans for gold. That they are industriously employed either in trade, fishing, or agriculture; but chiefly in the culture of rice, which grows here in an incredible abundance, and is transported hence all over the Gold Coast. The inhabitants, in lieu, returning full fraught with millet, jamms, potatoes, and palm oil." The same author speaking of the country of Ante, says,[B] "This country, as well as the Gold Coast, abounds with hills, enriched with extraordinary high and beautiful trees; its valleys, betwixt the hills, are wide and extensive, producing in great abundance very good rice, millet, jamms, potatoes, and other fruits, all good in their kind." He adds, "In short, it is a land that yields its manurers as plentiful a crop as they can wish, with great quantities of palm wine and oil, besides being well furnished with all sorts of tame, as well as wild beasts; but that the last fatal wars had reduced it to a miserable condition, and stripped it of most of its inhabitants." The adjoining country of Fetu, he says,[C] "was formerly so powerful and populous, that it struck terror into all the neighbouring nations; but it is at present so drained by continual wars, that it is entirely ruined; there does not remain inhabitants sufficient to till the country, tho' it is so fruitful and pleasant that it may be compared to the country of Ante just before described; frequently, says that author, when walking through it before the last war, I have seen it abound with fine well built and populous towns, agreeably enriched with vast quantities of corn, cattle, palm wine, and oil. The inhabitants all applying themselves without any distinction to agriculture; some sow corn, others press oil, and draw wine from palm trees, with both which it is plentifully stored." [Footnote A: Bosman's description of the coast of Guinea, p, 5.] [Footnote B: Idem, page 14.] [Footnote C: Bosman, page 41.] William Smith gives much the same account of the before-mentioned parts of the Gold Coast, and adds, "The country about D'Elmina and Cape Coast, is much the same for beauty and goodness, but more populous; and the nearer we come towards the Slave Coast, the more delightful and rich all the countries are, producing all sorts of trees, fruits, roots, and herbs, that grow within the Torrid Zone." J. Barbot also remarks,[A] with respect to the countries of Ante and Adom, "That the soil is very good and fruitful in corn and other produce, which it affords in such plenty, that besides what serves for their own use, they always export great quantities for sale; they have a competent number of cattle, both tame and wild, and the rivers abundantly stored with fish, so that nothing is wanting for the support of life, and to make it easy." In the Collection it is said,[B] "That the inland people on that part of the coast, employ themselves in tillage and trade, and supply the market with corn, fruit, and palm wine; the country producing such vast plenty of Indian corn, that abundance is daily exported, as well by Europeans as Blacks resorting thither from other parts." "These inland people are said to live in great union and friendship, being generally well tempered, civil, and tractable; not apt to shed human blood, except when much provoked, and ready to assist one another." [Footnote A: John Barbot's description of Guinea, page 154.] [Footnote B: Astley's collect. vol. 2. page 535.] In the Collection[A] it is said, "That the fishing business is esteemed on the Gold Coast next to trading; that those who profess it are more numerous than those of other employments. That the greatest number of these are at Kommendo, Mina, and Kormantin. From each of which places, there go out every morning, (Tuesday excepted, which is the Fetish day, or day of rest) five, six, and sometimes eight hundred canoes, from thirteen to fourteen feet long, which spread themselves two leagues at sea, each fisherman carrying in his canoe a sword, with bread, water, and a little fire on a large stone to roast fish. Thus they labour till noon, when the sea breeze blowing fresh, they return on the shore, generally laden with fish; a quantity of which the inland inhabitants come down to buy, which they sell again at the country markets." [Footnote A: Collection, vol. 2, page 640.] William Smith says,[A] "The country about Acra, where the English and Dutch have each a strong fort, is very delightful, and the natives courteous and civil to strangers." He adds, "That this place seldom fails of an extraordinary good trade from the inland country, especially for slaves, whereof several are supposed to come from very remote parts, because it is not uncommon to find a Malayan or two amongst a parcel of other slaves. The Malaya, people are generally natives of Malacca, in the East Indies, situate several thousand miles from the Gold Coast." They differ very much from the Guinea Negroes, being of a tawny complexion, with long black hair. [Footnote A: William Smith, page 145.] Most parts of the Slave Coasts are represented as equally fertile and pleasant with the Gold Coast. The kingdom of Whidah has been particularly noted by travellers.[A] William Smith and Bosman agree, "That it is one of the most delightful countries in the world. The great number and variety of tall, beautiful, and shady trees, which seem planted in groves, the verdant fields every where cultivated, and no otherwise divided than by those groves, and in some places a small foot-path, together with a great number of villages, contribute to afford the most delightful prospect; the whole country being a fine easy, and almost imperceptible ascent, for the space of forty or fifty miles from the sea. That the farther you go from the sea, the more beautiful and populous the country appears. That the natives were kind and obliging, and so industrious, that no place which was thought fertile, could escape being planted, even within the hedges which inclose their villages. And that the next day after they had reaped, they sowed again." [Footnote A: Smith, page 194. Bosman, page 319.] Snelgrave also says, "The country appears full of towns and villages; and being a rich soil, and well cultivated, looks like an entire garden." In the Collection,[A] the husbandry of the Negroes is described to be carried on with great regularity: "The rainy season approaching, they go into the fields and woods, to fix on a proper place for sowing; and as here is no property in ground, the King's licence being obtained, the people go out in troops, and first clear the ground from bushes and weeds, which they burn. The field thus cleared, they dig it up a foot deep, and so let it remain for eight or ten days, till the rest of their neighbours have disposed their ground in the same manner. They then consult about sowing, and for that end assemble at the King's Court the next Fetish day. The King's grain must be sown first. They then go again to the field, and give the ground a second digging, and sow their seed. Whilst the King or Governor's land is sowing; he sends out wine and flesh ready dressed; enough to serve the labourers. Afterwards, they in like manner sow the ground, allotted for their neighbours, as diligently as that of the King's, by whom they are also feasted; and so continue to work in a body for the public benefit, till every man's ground is tilled and sowed. None but the King, and a few great men, are exempted from this labour. Their grain soon sprouts out of the ground. When it is about a man's height, and begins to ear, they raise a wooden house in the centre of the field, covered with straw, in which they set their children to watch their corn, and fright away the birds." [Footnote A: Collection, vol. 2, page 651.] Bosman[A] speaks in commendation of the civility, kindness, and great industry of the natives of Whidah; this is confirmed by Smith,[B] who says, "The natives here seem to be the most gentleman-like Negroes in Guinea, abounding with good manners and ceremony to each other. The inferior pay the utmost deference and, respect to the superior, as do wives to their husbands, and children to their parents. All here are naturally industrious, and find constant employment; the men in agriculture, and the women in spinning and weaving cotton. The men, whose chief talent lies in husbandry, are unacquainted with arms; otherwise, being a numerous people, they could have made a better defence against the King of Dahome, who subdued them without much trouble.[C] Throughout the Gold Coast, there are regular markets in all villages, furnished with provisions and merchandize, held every day in the week, except Tuesday, whence they supply not only the inhabitants, but the European ships. The _Negro women_ are very expert in buying and selling, and extremely industrious; for they will repair daily to market from a considerable distance, loaded like pack-horses, with a child, perhaps, at their back, and a heavy burden on their heads. After selling their wares, they buy fish and other necessaries, and return home loaded as they came. [Footnote A: Bosman, page 317.] [Footnote B: Smith, page 195.] [Footnote C: Collect, vol. 2, p. 657.] "There is a market held at Sabi every, fourth day,[A] also a weekly one in the province of Aplogua, which is so resorted to, that there are usually five or six thousand merchants. Their markets are so well regulated and governed, that seldom any disorder happens; each species of merchandize and merchants have a place allotted them by themselves. The buyers may haggle as much as they will, but it must be without noise or fraud. To keep order, the King appoints a judge, who, with four officers well armed, inspects the markets, hears all complaints, and, in a summary way, decides all differences; he has power to seize, and sell as slaves, all who are catched in stealing, or disturbing the peace. In these markets are to be sold men, women, children, oxen, sheep, goats, and fowls of all kinds; European cloths, linen and woollen; printed callicoes, silk, grocery ware, china, golddust, iron in bars, &c. in a word, most sorts of European goods, as well as the produce of Africa and Asia. They have other markets, resembling our fairs, once or twice a year, to which all the country repair; for they take care to order the day so in different governments, as not to interfere with each other." [Footnote A: Collect. vol. 3, p. 11.] With respect to government, William Smith says,[A] "That the Gold Coast and Slave Coast are divided into different districts, some of which are governed by their Chiefs, or Kings; the others, being more of the nature of a commonwealth are governed by some of the principal men, called Caboceros, who, Bosman says, are properly denominated civil fathers, whose province is to take care of the welfare of the city or village, and to appease tumults." But this order of government has been much broken since the coming of the Europeans. Both Bosman and Barbot mention _murther and adultery to be severely punished on the Coast, frequently by death; and robbery by a fine proportionable to the goods stolen_. [Footnote A: Smith, page 193.] The income of some of the Kings is large, Bosman says, "That the King of Whidah's revenues and duties on things bought and sold are considerable; he having the tithe of all things sold in the market, or imported in the country."[A] Both the abovementioned authors say, _The tax on slaves shipped off in this King's dominions, in some years, amounts to near twenty thousand pounds_. [Footnote A: Bosman, page 337. Barbot, page 335.] Bosman tells us, "The Whidah Negroes have a faint idea of a true God, ascribing to him the attributes of almighty power and omnipresence; but God, they say, is too high to condescend to think of mankind; wherefore he commits the government of the world to those inferior deities which they worship." Some authors say, the wisest of these Negroes are sensible of their mistake in this opinion, but dare not forsake their own religion, for fear of the populace rising and killing them. This is confirmed by William Smith, who says, "That all the natives of this coast believe there is one true God, the author of them and all things; that they have some apprehension of a future state; and that almost every village has a grove, or public place of worship, to which the principal inhabitants, on a set day, resort to make their offerings." In the Collection[A] it is remarked as an excellency in the Guinea government, "That however poor they may be in general, yet there are no beggars to be found amongst them; which is owing to the care of their chief men, whose province it is to take care of the welfare of the city or village; it being part of their office, to see that such people may earn their bread by their labour; some are set to blow the smith's bellows, others to press palm oil, or grind colours for their matts, and sell provision in the markets. The young men are listed to serve as soldiers, so that they suffer no common beggar." [Footnote A: Astley's collection, vol. 2, page 619.] Bosman ascribes a further reason for this good order, viz. "That when a Negroe finds he cannot subsist, he binds himself for a certain sum of money, and the master to whom he is bound is obliged to find him necessaries; that the master sets him a sort of task, which is not in the least slavish, being chiefly to defend his master on occasions; or in sowing time to work as much as he himself pleases."[A] [Footnote A: Bosman, page 119.] Adjoining to the kingdom of Whidah, are several small governments, as Coto, great and small Popo, Ardrah, &c. all situate on the Slave Coast, where the chief trade for slaves is carried on. These are governed by their respective Kings, and follow much the same customs with those of Whidah, except that their principal living is on plunder, and the slave trade. CHAP. III. _The kingdom of Benin_; its extent. Esteemed the most potent in Guinea. Fruitfulness of the soil. Good disposition of the people. Order of government. Punishment of crimes. Large extent of the town of Great Benin. Order maintained. The natives honest and charitable. Their religion. The kingdoms of Kongo and Angola. Many of the natives profess christianity. The country fruitful. Disposition of the people. The administration of justice. The town of Leango. Slave trade carried on by the Portugueze. Here the slave trade ends. Next adjoining to the Slave Coast, is the kingdom of Benin, which, though it extends but about 170 miles on the sea, yet spreads so far inland, as to be esteemed the most potent kingdom in Guinea. By accounts, the soil and produce appear to be in a great measure like those before described; and the natives are represented as a reasonable good-natured people. Artus says,[A] "They are a sincere, inoffensive people, and do no injustice either to one another, or to strangers." William Smith[B] confirms this account, and says, "That the inhabitants are generally very good-natured, and exceeding courteous and civil. When the Europeans make them presents, which in their coming thither to trade they always do, they endeavour to return them doubly." [Footnote A: Collection. vol. 3, page 228.] [Footnote B: Smith, page 228.] Bosman tells us,[A] "That his countrymen the Dutch, who were often obliged to trust them till they returned the next year, were sure to be honestly paid their whole debts." [Footnote A: W. Bosman, page 405.] There is in Benin a considerable order in government. Theft, murther, and adultery, being severely punished. Barbot says,[A] "If a man and a woman of any quality be surprized in adultery, they are both put to death, and their bodies are thrown on a dunghill, and left there a prey to wild beasts." He adds, "The severity of the laws in Benin against adultery,[B] amongst all orders of people, deters them from venturing, so that it is but very seldom any persons are punished for that crime." Smith says, "Their towns are governed by officers appointed by the King, who have power to decide in civil cases, and to raise the public taxes; but in criminal cases, they must send to the King's court, which is held at the town of Oedo, or Great Benin. This town, which covers a large extent of ground, is about sixty mile from the sea."[C] Barbot tells us, "That it contains thirty streets, twenty fathom wide, and almost two miles long, commonly, extending in a straight line from one gate to another; that the gates are guarded by soldiers; that in these streets markets are held every day, for cattle, ivory, cotton, and many sorts of European goods. This large town is divided into several wards, or districts, each governed by its respective King of a street, as they call them; to administer justice, and to keep good order. The inhabitants are very civil and good natured, condescending to what the Europeans require of them in a civil way." The same author confirms what has been said by others of their justice in the payment of their debts; and adds, "That they, above all other Guineans, are very honest and just in their dealings; and they have such an aversion for theft, that by the law of the country it is punished with death." We are told by the same author,[D] "That the King of Benin is able upon occasion to maintain an army of a hundred thousand men; but that, for the most part, he does not keep thirty thousand." William Smith says, "The natives are all free men; none but foreigners can be bought and sold there.[E] They are very charitable, the King as well as his subjects." Bosman confirms this,[F] and says, "The King and great Lords subsist several poor at their place of residence on charity, employing those who are fit for any work, and the rest they keep for God's sake; so that here are no beggars." [Footnote A: Barbot, page 237.] [Footnote B: By this account of the punishment inflicted on adulterers in this and other parts of Guinea, it appears the Negroes are not insensible of the sinfulness of such practices. How strange must it then appear to the serious minded amongst these people, (nay, how inconsistent is it with every divine and moral law amongst ourselves) that those christian laws which prohibit fornication and adultery, are in none of the English governments extended to them, but that they are allowed to cohabit and separate at pleasure? And that even their masters think so lightly of their marriage engagements, that, when it suits with their interest, they will separate man from wife, and children from both, to be sold into different, and even distant parts, without regard to their sometimes grievous lamentations; whence it has happened, that such of those people who are truly united in their marriage covenant, and in affection to one another, have been driven to such desperation, as either violently to destroy themselves, or gradually to pine away, and die with mere grief. It is amazing, that whilst the clergy of the established church are publicly expressing a concern, that these oppressed people should be made acquainted with the christian religion, they should be thus suffered, and even forced, so flagrantly to infringe one of the principal injunctions of our holy religion!] [Footnote C: J. Barbot, page 358, 359.] [Footnote D: Barbot, page 369.] [Footnote E: W. Smith, page 369.] [Footnote F: Bosman, page 409.] As to religion, these people believe there is a God, the efficient cause of all things; but, like the rest of the Guineans, they are superstitiously and idolatrously inclined. The last division of Guinea from which slaves are imported, are the kingdoms of Kongo and Angola: these lie to the South of Benin, extending with the intermediate land about twelve hundred miles on the coast. Great numbers of the natives of both these kingdoms profess the christian religion, which was long since introduced by the Portugueze, who made early settlements in that country. In the Collection it is said, that both in Kongo and Angola, the soil is in general fruitful, producing great plenty of grain, Indian corn, and such quantities of rice, that it hardly bears any price, with fruits, roots, and palm oil in plenty. The natives are generally a quiet people, who discover a good understanding, and behave in a friendly manner to strangers, being of a mild conversation, affable, and easily overcome with reason. In the government of Kongo, the King appoints a judge in every particular division, to hear and determine disputes and civil causes; the judges imprison and release, or impose fines, according to the rule of custom; but in weighty matters, every one may appeal to the King, before whom all criminal causes are brought, in which he giveth sentence; but seldom condemneth to death. The town of Leango stands in the midst of four Lordships, which abound in corn, fruit, &c. Here they make great quantities of cloth of divers kinds, very fine and curious; the inhabitants are seldom idle; they even make needle-work caps as they walk in the streets. The slave trade is here principally managed by the Portugueze, who carry it far up into the inland countries. They are said to send off from these parts fifteen thousand slaves each year. At Angola, about the 10th degree of South latitude, ends the trade for slaves. CHAP. IV. The antientest accounts of the Negroes is from the Nubian Geography, and the writings of Leo the African. Some account of those authors. The Arabians pass into Guinea. The innocency and simplicity of the natives. They are subdued by the Moors. Heli Ischia shakes off the Moorish yoke. The Portugueze make the first descent in Guinea. From whence they carry off some of the natives. More incursions of the like kind. The Portugueze erect the first fort at D'Elmina. They begin the slave trade. Cada Mosto's testimony. Anderson's account to the same purport. De la Casa's concern for the relief of the oppressed Indians. Goes over into Spain to plead their cause. His speech before Charles the Fifth. The most antient account we have of the country of the Negroes, particularly that part situate on and between the two great rivers of Senegal and Gambia, is from the writings of two antient authors, one an Arabian, and the other a Moor. The first[A] wrote in Arabic, about the twelfth century. His works, printed in that language at Rome, were afterwards translated into Latin, and printed at Paris, under the patronage of the famous Thuanus, chancellor of France, with the title of _Geographica Nubiensis_, containing an account or all the nations lying on the Senegal and Gambia. The other wrote by John Leo,[B] a Moor, born at Granada, in Spain, before the Moors were totally expelled from that kingdom. He resided in Africa; but being on a voyage from Tripoli to Tunis, was taken by some Italian Corsairs, who finding him possessed of several Arabian books, besides his own manuscripts, apprehended him to be a man of learning, and as such presented him to Pope Leo the Tenth. This Pope encouraging him, he embraced the Romish religion, and his description of Africa was published in Italian. From these writings we gather, that after the Mahometan religion had extended to the kingdom of Morocco, some of the promoters of it crossing the sandy desarts of Numidia, which separate that country from Guinea, found it inhabited by men, who, though under no regular government, and destitute of that knowledge the Arabians were favoured with, lived in content and peace. The first author particularly remarks, "That they never made war, or travelled abroad, but employed themselves in tending their herds, or labouring in the ground." J. Leo says, page 65. "That they lived in common, having no property in land, no tyrant nor superior lord, but supported themselves in an equal state, upon the natural produce of the country, which afforded plenty of roots, game, and honey. That ambition or avarice never drove them into foreign countries to subdue or cheat their neighbours. Thus they lived without toil or superfluities." "The antient inhabitants of Morocco, who wore coats of mail, and used swords and spears headed with iron, coming amongst these harmless and naked people, soon brought them under subjection, and divided that part of Guinea which lies on the rivers Senegal and Gambia into fifteen parts; those were the fifteen kingdoms of the Negroes, over which the Moors presided, and the common people were Negroes. These Moors taught the Negroes the Mahometan religion, and arts of life; particularly the use of iron, before unknown to them. About the 14th century, a native Negro, called Heli Ischia, expelled the Moorish conquerors; but tho' the Negroes threw off the yoke of a foreign nation, they only changed a Libyan for a Negroe master. Heli Ischia himself becoming King, led the Negroes on to foreign wars, and established himself in power over a very large extent of country." Since Leo's time, the Europeans have had very little knowledge of those parts of Africa, nor do they know what became of his great empire. It is highly probable that it broke into pieces, and that the natives again resumed many of their antient customs; for in the account published by William Moor, in his travels on the river Gambia, we find a mixture of the Moorish and Mahometan customs, joined with the original simplicity of the Negroes. It appears by accounts of antient voyages, collected by Hackluit, Purchas, and others, that it was about fifty years before the discovery of America, that the Portugueze attempted to sail round Cape Bojador, which lies between their country and Guinea; this, after divers repulses occasioned by the violent currents, they effected; when landing on the western coasts of Africa, they soon began to make incursions into the country, and to seize and carry off the native inhabitants. As early as the year 1434, Alonzo Gonzales, the first who is recorded to have met with the natives, being on that coast, pursued and attacked a number of them, when some were wounded, as was also one of the Portugueze; which the author records as the first blood spilt by christians in those parts. Six years after, the same Gonzales again attacked the natives, and took twelve prisoners, with whom he returned to his vessels; he afterwards put a woman on shore, in order to induce the natives to redeem the prisoners; but the next day 150 of the inhabitants appeared on horses and camels, provoking the Portugueze to land; which they not daring to venture, the natives discharged a volley of stones at them, and went off. After this, the Portugueze still continued to send vessels on the coast of Africa; particularly we read of their falling on a village, whence the inhabitants fled, and, being pursued, twenty-five were taken: "_He that ran best_," says the author, "_taking the most_. In their way home they killed some of the natives, and took fifty-five more prisoners.[C] Afterwards Dinisanes Dagrama, with two other vessels, landed on the island Arguin, where they took fifty-four Moors; then running along the coast eighty leagues farther, they at several times took fifty slaves; but here seven of the Portugueze were killed. Then being joined by several other vessels, Dinisanes proposed to destroy the island, to revenge the loss of the seven Portugueze; of which the Moors being apprized, fled, so that no more than twelve were found, whereof only four could be taken, the rest being killed, as also one of the Portugueze." Many more captures of this kind on the coast of Barbary and Guinea, are recorded to have been made in those early times by the Portugueze; who, in the year 1481, erected their first fort at D'Elmina on that coast, from whence they soon opened a trade for slaves with the inland parts of Guinea. [Footnote A: See Travels into different parts of Africa, by Francis Moor, with a letter to the publisher.] [Footnote B: Ibid.] [Footnote C: Collection, vol. 1, page 13.] From the foregoing accounts, it is undoubted, that the practice of making slaves of the Negroes, owes its origin to the early incursions of the Portugueze on the coast of Africa, solely from an inordinate desire of gain. This is clearly evidenced from their own historians, particularly _Cada Mosto_, about the year 1455, who writes,[A] "That before the trade was settled for purchasing slaves from the Moors at Arguin, sometimes four, and sometimes more Portugueze vessels, were used to come to that gulph, well armed; and landing by night, would surprize some fishermen's villages: that they even entered into the country, and carried off Arabs of both sexes, whom they sold in Portugal." And also, "That the Portugueze and Spaniards, settled on four of the Canary islands, would go to the other island by night, and seize some of the natives of both sexes, whom they sent to be sold in Spain." [Footnote A: Collection vol. 1, page 576.] After the settlement of America, those devastations, and the captivating the miserable Africans, greatly increased. Anderson, in his history of trade and commerce, at page 336, speaking of what passed in the year 1508, writes, "That the Spaniards had by this time found that the miserable Indian natives, whom they had made to work in their mines and fields, were not so robust and proper for those purposes as Negroes brought from Africa; wherefore they, about that time, began to import Negroes for that end into Hispaniola, from the Portugueze settlements on the Guinea coasts; and also afterwards for their sugar works." This oppression of the Indians had, even before this time, rouzed the zeal, as well as it did the compassion, of some of the truly pious of that day; particularly that of Bartholomew De las Casas, bishop of Chapia; whom a desire of being instrumental towards the conversion of the Indians, had invited into America. It is generally agreed by the writers of that age, that he was a man of perfect disinterestedness, and ardent charity; being affected with this sad spectacle, he returned to the court of Spain, and there made a true report of the matter; but not without being strongly opposed by those mercenary wretches, who had enslaved the Indians; yet being strong and indefatigable, he went to and fro between Europe and America, firmly determined not to give over his pursuit but with his life. After long solicitation, and innumerable repulses, he obtained leave to lay the matter before the Emperor Charles the Fifth, then King of Spain. As the contents of the speech he made before the King in council, are very applicable to the case of the enslaved Africans, and a lively evidence that the spirit of true piety speaks the same language in the hearts of faithful men in all ages, for the relief of their fellow creatures from oppression of every kind, I think it may not be improper here to transcribe the most interesting parts of it. "I was," says this pious bishop, "one of the first who went to America; neither curiosity nor interest prompted me to undertake so long and dangerous a voyage; the saving the souls of the heathen was my sole object. Why was I not permitted, even at the expence of my blood, to ransom so many thousand souls, who fell unhappy victims to avarice or lust? I have been an eye witness to such cruel treatment of the Indians, as is too horrid to be mentioned at this time.--It is said that barbarous executions were necessary to punish or check the rebellion of the Americans;--but to whom was this owing? Did not those people receive the Spaniards, who first came amongst them, with gentleness and humanity? Did they not shew more joy, in proportion, in lavishing treasure upon them, than the Spaniards did greediness in receiving it?--But our avarice was not yet satisfied;--tho' they gave up to us their land and their riches, we would tear from them their wives, their children and their liberties.--To blacken these unhappy people, their enemies assert, that they are scarce human creatures?--but it is we that ought to blush, for having been less men, and more barbarous, than they.--What right have we to enslave a people who are born free, and whom we disturbed, tho' they never offended us?--They are represented as a stupid people, addicted to vice?--but have they not contracted most of their vices from the example of the christians? And as to those vices peculiar to themselves, have not the christians quickly exceeded them therein? Nevertheless it must be granted, that the Indians still remain untainted with many vices usual amongst the Europeans; such as ambition, blasphemy, treachery, and many like monsters, which have not yet took place with them; they have scarce an idea of them; so that in effect, all the advantage we can claim, is to have more elevated notions of things, and our natural faculties more unfolded and more cultivated than theirs.--Do not let us flatter our corruptions, nor voluntarily blind ourselves; _all_ nations are equally _free_; one nation has no right to infringe upon the freedom of any other; let us do towards these people as we would have them to have done towards us, if they had landed upon our shore, with the same superiority of strength. And indeed, why should not things be equal on both sides? How long has the right of the strongest been allowed to be the balance of justice? What part of the gospel gives a sanction to such a doctrine? In what part of the whole earth did the apostles and the first promulgators of the gospel ever claim a right over the lives, the freedom, or the substance of the Gentiles? What a strange method this is of propagating the gospel, that holy law of grace, which, from being, slaves to Satan, initiates us into the freedom of the children of God!--Will it be possible for us to inspire them with a love to its dictates, while they are so exasperated at being dispossessed of that invaluable blessing, _Liberty?_ The apostles submitted to chains themselves, but loaded no man with them. Christ came to free, not to enslave us.--Submission to the faith he left us, ought to be a voluntary act, and should be propagated by persuasion, gentleness, and reason." "At my first arrival in Hispaniola, (added the bishop) it contained a million of inhabitants; and now (viz. in the space of about twenty years) there remains scarce the hundredth part of them; thousands have perished thro' want, fatigue, merciless punishment, cruelty, and barbarity. If the blood of _one_ man unjustly shed, calls loudly for vengeance; how strong must be the cry of that of so _many_ unhappy creatures which is shedding daily?"--The good bishop concluded his speech, with imploring the King's clemency for subjects so unjustly oppressed; and bravely declared, that heaven would one day call him to an account, for the numberless acts of cruelty which he might have prevented. The King applauded the bishop's zeal; promised to second it; but so many of the great ones had an interest in continuing the oppression, that nothing was done; so that all the Indians in Hispaniola, except a few who had hid themselves in the most inaccessible mountains, were destroyed. CHAP. V. First account of the English trading to Guinea. Thomas Windham and several others go to that coast. Some of the Negroes carried off by the English. Queen Elizabeth's charge to Captain Hawkins respecting the natives. Nevertheless he goes on the coast and carries off some of the Negroes. Patents are granted. The King of France objects to the Negroes being kept in slavery. As do the college of Cardinals at Rome. The natives, an inoffensive people; corrupted by the Europeans. The sentiments of the natives concerning the slave-trade, from William Smith: Confirmed by Andrew Brue and James Barbot. It was about the year 1551, towards the latter end of the reign of King Edward the Sixth, when some London merchants sent out the first English ship, on a trading voyage to the coast of Guinea; this was soon followed by several others to the same parts; but the English not having then any plantations in the West Indies, and consequently no occasion for Negroes, such ships traded only for gold, elephants teeth, and Guinea pepper. This trade was carried on at the hazard of losing their ships and cargoes, if they had fallen into the hands of the Portuguese, who claimed an exclusive right of trade, on account of the several settlements they had made there.[A] In the year 1553, we find captain Thomas Windham trading along the coast with 140 men, in three ships, and sailing as far as Benin, which lies about 3000 miles down the coast, to take in a load of pepper.[B] Next year John Lock traded along the coast of Guinea, as far as D'Elmina, when he brought away considerable quantities of gold and ivory. He speaks well of the natives, and says,[C] "_That whoever will deal with them must behave civilly, for they will not traffic if ill used_." In 1555, William Towerson traded in a peaceable manner with the natives, who made complaint to him of the Portuguese, who were then settled in their castle at D'Elmina, saying, "_They were bad men, who made them slaves if they could take them, putting irons on their legs_." [Footnote A: Astley's collection, vol. 1. page 139.] [Footnote B: Collection vol. 1. p. 148.] [Footnote C: Ibid. 257.] This bad example of the Portuguese was soon followed by some evil disposed Englishmen; for the same captain Towerson relates,[A] "That in the course of his voyage, he perceived the natives, near D'Elmina, unwilling to come to him, and that he was at last attacked by them; which he understood was done in revenge for the wrong done them the year before, by one captain Gainsh, who had taken away the Negro captain's son, and three others, with their gold, &c. This caused them to join the Portuguese, notwithstanding their hatred of them, against the English." The next year captain Towerson brought these men back again; whereupon the Negroes shewed him much kindness.[B] Quickly after this, another instance of the same kind occurred, in the case of captain George Fenner, who being on the coast, with three vessels, was also attacked by the Negroes, who wounded several of his people, and violently carried three of his men to their town. The captain sent a messenger, offering any thing they desired for the ransom of his men: but they refused to deliver them, letting him know, "_That three weeks before, an English ship, which came in the road, had carried off three of their people; and that till they were brought again, they would not restore his men, even tho' they should give their three ships to release them_." It was probably the evil conduct of these, and some other Englishmen, which was the occasion of what is mentioned in Hill's naval history, viz. "That when captain Hawkins returned from his first voyage to Africa, Queen Elizabeth sent for him, when she expressed her concern, lest any of the African Negroes should be carried off without their free consent; which she declared would be detestable, and would call down the vengeance of heaven upon the undertakers." Hawkins made great promises, which nevertheless he did not perform; for his next voyage to the coast appears to have been principally calculated to procure Negro slaves, in order to sell them to the Spaniards in the West Indies; which occasioned the same author to use these remarkable words: "_Here began the horrid practice of forcing the Africans into slavery: an injustice and barbarity, which, so sure as there is vengeance in heaven for the worst of crimes, will some time be the destruction of all who act or who encourage it_." This captain Hawkins, afterwards sir John Hawkins, seems to have been the first Englishman who gave public countenance to this wicked traffic: For Anderson, before mentioned, at page 401, says, "That in the year 1562, captain Hawkins, assisted by subscription of sundry gentlemen, now fitted out three ships; and having learnt that Negroes were a very good commodity in Hispaniola, he sailed to the coast of Guinea, took in Negroes, and sailed with them for Hispaniola, where he sold them, and his English commodities, and loaded his three vessels with hides, sugar and ginger, &c. with which he returned home anno 1563, making a prosperous voyage." As it proved a lucrative business, the trade was continued both by Hawkins and others, as appears from the naval chronicle, page 55, where it is said, "That on the 18th of October, 1564, captain John Hawkins, with two ships of 700 and 140 tuns, sailed for Africa; that on the 8th of December they anchored to the South of Cape Verd, where the captain manned the boat, and sent eighty men in armour into the country, to see if they could take some Negroes; but the natives flying from them, they returned to their ships, and proceeded farther down the coast. Here they staid certain days, sending their men ashore, in order (as the author says) to burn and spoil their towns and take the inhabitants. The land they observed to be well cultivated, there being plenty of grain, and fruit of several sorts, and the towns prettily laid out. On the 25th, being informed by the Portugueze of a town of Negroes called Bymba, where there was not only a quantity of gold, but an hundred and forty inhabitants, they resolved to attack it, having the Portugueze for their guide; but by mismanagement they took but ten Negroes, having seven of their own men killed, and twenty-seven wounded. They then went farther down the coast; when, having procured a number of Negroes, they proceeded to the West Indies, where they sold them to the Spaniards." And in the same naval chronicle, at page 76, it is said, "That in the year 1567, Francis Drake, before performing his voyage round the world, went with Sir John Hawkins in his expedition to the coast of Guinea, where taking in a cargo of slaves, they determined to steer for the Caribbee islands." How Queen Elizabeth suffered so grievous an infringement of the rights of mankind to be perpetrated by her subjects, and how she was persuaded, about the 30th year of her reign, to grant patents for carrying on a trade from the North part of the river Senegal, to an hundred leagues beyond Sierra Leona, which gave rise to the present African company, is hard to account for, any otherwise than that it arose from the misrepresentation made to her of the situation of the Negroes, and of the advantages it was pretended they would reap from being made acquainted with the christian religion. This was the case of Lewis the XIIIth, King of France, who, Labat, in his account of the isles of America, tells us, "Was extremely uneasy at a law by which the Negroes of his colonies were to be made slaves; but it being strongly urged to him as the readiest means for their conversion to christianity, he acquiesced therewith." Nevertheless, some of the christian powers did not so easily give way in this matter; for we find,[C] "That cardinal Cibo, one of the Pope's principal ministers of state, wrote a letter on behalf of the college of cardinals, or great council at Rome, to the missionaries in Congo, complaining that the pernicious and abominable abuse of selling slaves was yet continued, requiring them to remedy the same, if possible; but this the missionaries saw little hopes of accomplishing, by reason that the trade of the country lay wholly in slaves and ivory." [Footnote A: Collection, vol. 1. p. 148.] [Footnote B: Ibid. 157.] [Footnote C: Collection, vol. 3, page 164.] From the foregoing accounts, as well as other authentic publications of this kind, it appears that it was the unwarrantable lust of gain, which first stimulated the Portugueze, and afterwards other Europeans, to engage in this horrid traffic. By the most authentic relations of those early times, the natives were an inoffensive people, who, when civilly used, traded amicably with the Europeans. It is recorded of those of Benin, the largest kingdom in Guinea,[A]_That they were a gentle, loving people_; and Reynold says,[B] "_They found more sincere proofs of love and good will from the natives, than they could find from the Spaniards and Portugueze, even tho' they had relieved them from the greatest misery_." And from the same relations there is no reason to think otherwise, but that they generally lived in peace amongst themselves; for I don't find, in the numerous publications I have perused on this subject, relating to these early times, of there being wars on that coast, nor of any sale of captives taken in battle, who would have been otherwise sacrificed by the victors:[C] Notwithstanding some modern authors, in their publications relating to the West Indies, desirous of throwing a veil over the iniquity of the slave trade, have been hardy enough, upon meer supposition or report, to assert the contrary. [Footnote A: Collection, vol. 1, page 202.] [Footnote B: Idem, page 245.] [Footnote C: Note, This plea falls of itself, for if the Negroes apprehended they should be cruelly put to death, if they were not sent away, why do they manifest such reluctance and dread as they generally do, at being brought from their native country? William Smith, at page 28, says, "_The Gambians abhor slavery, and will attempt any thing, tho' never so desperate, to avoid it_," and Thomas Philips, in his account of a voyage he performed to the coast of Guinea, writes, "_They, the Negroes, are so loth to leave their own country, that they have often leaped out of the canoe, boat, or ship, into the sea, and kept under water till they were drowned, to avoid being taken up_."] It was long after the Portugueze had made a practice of violently forcing the natives of Africa into slavery, that we read of the different Negroe nations making war upon each other, and selling their captives. And probably this was not the case, till those bordering on the coast, who had been used to supply the vessels with necessaries, had become corrupted by their intercourse with the Europeans, and were excited by drunkenness and avarice to join them in carrying on those wicked schemes, by which those unnatural wars were perpetrated; the inhabitants kept in continual alarms; the country laid waste; and, as William Moor expresses it, _Infinite numbers sold into slavery_. But that the Europeans are the principal cause of these devastations, is particularly evidenced by one, whose connexion with the trade would rather induce him to represent it in the fairest colours, to wit, William Smith, the person sent in the year 1726 by the African company to survey their settlements, who, from the information he received of one of the factors, who had resided ten years in that country, says,[A] "_That the discerning natives account it their greatest unhappiness, that they were ever visited by the Europeans."--"That we christians introduced the traffick of slaves; and that before our coming they lived in peace_." [Footnote A: William Smith, page 266.] In the accounts relating to the African trade, we find this melancholy truth farther asserted by some of the principal directors in the different factories; particularly A. Brue says,[A] "_That the Europeans were far from desiring to act as peace-makers amongst the Negroes; which would be acting contrary to their interest, since the greater the wars, the more slaves were procured_," And William Bosman also remarks,[B] "That one of the former commanders _gave large sums of money to the Negroes of one nation, to induce them to attack some of the neighbouring nations, which occasioned a battle which was more bloody than the wars of the Negroes usually are_." This is confirmed by J. Barbot, who says, "_That the country of D'Elmina, which was formerly very powerful and populous, was in his time so much drained of its inhabitants by the intestine wars fomented amongst the Negroes by the Dutch, that there did not remain inhabitants enough to till the country_." [Footnote A: Collection, vol. 2, page 98.] [Footnote B: Bosman, page 31.] CHAP. VI. The conduct of the Europeans and Africans compared. Slavery more tolerable amongst the antients than in our colonies. As christianity prevailed amongst the barbarous nations, the inconsistency of slavery became more apparent. The charters of manumission, granted in the early times of christianity, founded on an apprehension of duty to God. The antient Britons, and other European nations, in their original state, no less barbarous than the Negroes. Slaves in Guinea used with much greater lenity than the Negroes are in the colonies.--Note. How the slaves are treated in Algiers, as also in Turkey. Such is the woeful corruption of human nature, that every practice which flatters our pride and covetousness, will find its advocates! This is manifestly the case in the matter before us; the savageness of the Negroes in some of their customs, and particularly their deviating so far from the feelings of humanity, as to join in captivating and selling each other, gives their interested oppressors a pretence for representing them as unworthy of liberty, and the natural rights of mankind. But these sophisters turn the argument full upon themselves, when they instigate the poor creatures to such shocking impiety, by every means that fantastic subtilty can suggest; thereby shewing in their own conduct, a more glaring proof of the same depravity, and, if there was any reason in the argument, a greater unfitness for the same precious enjoyment: for though some of the ignorant Africans may be thus corrupted by their intercourse with the baser of the European natives, and the use of strong liquors, this is no excuse for high-professing christians; bred in a civilized country, with so many advantages unknown to the Africans, and pretending to a superior degree of gospel light. Nor can it justify them in raising up fortunes to themselves from the misery of others, and calmly projecting voyages for the seizure of men naturally as free as themselves; and who, they know, are no otherwise to be procured than by such barbarous means, as none but those hardened wretches, who are lost to every sense of christian compassion, can make use of. Let us diligently compare, and impartially weigh, the situation of those ignorant Negroes, and these enlightened christians; then lift up the scale and say, which of the two are the greater savages. Slavery has been of a long time in practice in many parts of Asia; it was also in usage among the Romans when that empire flourished; but, except in some particular instances, it was rather a reasonable servitude, no ways comparable to the unreasonable and unnatural service extorted from the Negroes in our colonies. A late learned author,[A] speaking of those times which succeeded the dissolution of that empire, acquaints us, that as christianity prevailed, it very much removed those wrong prejudices and practices, which had taken root in darker times: after the irruption of the Northern nations, and the introduction of the feudal or military government, whereby the most extensive power was lodged in a few members of society, to the depression of the rest, the common people were little better than slaves, and many were indeed such; but as christianity gained ground, the gentle spirit of that religion, together with the doctrines it teaches, concerning the original equality of mankind, as well as the impartial eye with which the Almighty regards men of every condition, and admits them to a participation of his benefits; so far manifested the inconsistency of slavery with christianity, that to set their fellow christians at liberty was deemed an act of piety, highly meritorious and acceptable to God.[B] Accordingly a great part of the charters granted for the manumission or freedom of slaves about that time, are granted _pro amore Dei, for the love of God, pro mercede animae, to obtain mercy to the soul_. Manumission was frequently granted on death-beds, or by latter wills. As the minds of men are at that time awakened to sentiments of humanity and piety, these deeds proceeded from religious motives. The same author remarks, That there are several forms of those manumissions still extant, all of them founded _on religious considerations_, and _in order to procure the favour of God_. Since that time, the practice of keeping men in slavery gradually ceased amongst christians, till it was renewed in the case before us. And as the prevalency of the spirit of christianity caused men to emerge from the darkness they then lay under, in this respect; so it is much to be feared that so great a deviation therefrom, by the encouragement given to the slavery of the Negroes in our colonies, if continued, will, by degrees, reduce those countries which support and encourage it but more immediately those parts of America which are in the practice of it, to the ignorance and barbarity of the darkest ages. [Footnote A: See Robertson's history of Charles the 5th.] [Footnote B: In the years 1315 and 1318, Louis X. and his brother Philip, Kings of France, issued ordonnances, declaring, "That as all men were by nature free-born, and as their kingdom was called the kingdom of Franks, they determined that it should be so in reality, as well as in name; therefore they appointed that enfranchisements should be granted throughout the whole kingdom, upon just and reasonable conditions." "These edicts were carried into immediate execution within the royal domain."--"In England, as the spirit of liberty gained ground, the very name and idea of personal servitude, without any formal interposition of the legislature to prohibit it, was totally banished." "The effects of such a remarkable change in the condition of so great a part of the people, could not fail of being considerable and extensive. The husbandman, master of his own industry, and secure of reaping for himself the fruits of his labour, became farmer of the same field where he had formerly been compelled to toil for the benefit of another. The odious name of master and of slave, the most mortifying and depressing of all distinctions to human nature, were abolished. New prospects opened, and new incitements to ingenuity and enterprise presented themselves, to those who were emancipated. The expectation of bettering their fortune, as well as that of raising themselves to a more honourable condition, concurred in calling forth their activity and genius; and a numerous class of men, who formerly had no political existence, and were employed merely as instruments of labour, became useful citizens, and contributed towards augmenting the force or riches of the society, which adopted them as members." William Robertson's history of Charles the 5th, vol. 1, P. 35. ] If instead of making slaves of the Negroes, the nations who assume the name and character of christians, would use their endeavours to make the nations of Africa acquainted with the nature of the christian religion, to give them a better sense of the true use of the blessings of life, the more beneficial arts and customs would, by degrees, be introduced amongst them; this care probably would produce the same effect upon them, which it has had on the inhabitants of Europe, formerly as savage and barbarous as the natives of Africa. Those cruel wars amongst the blacks would be likely to cease, and a fair and honorable commerce, in time, take place throughout that vast country. It was by these means that the inhabitants of Europe, though formerly a barbarous people, became civilized. Indeed the account Julius Caesar gives of the ancient Britons in their state of ignorance, is not such as should make us proud of ourselves, or lead us to despise the unpolished nations of the earth; for he informs us, "That they lived in many respects like our Indians, being clad with skins, painting their bodies, &c." He also adds, "That they, brother with brother, and parents with children, had wives in common." A greater barbarity than any heard of amongst the Negroes. Nor doth Tacitus give a more honourable account of the Germans, from whom the Saxons, our immediate ancestors, sprung. The Danes, who succeeded them (who may also be numbered among our progenitors) were full as bad, if not worse. It is usual for people to advance as a palliation in favour of keeping the Negroes in bondage, that there are slaves in Guinea, and that those amongst us might be so in their own country; but let such consider the inconsistency of our giving any countenance to slavery, because the Africans, whom we esteem a barbarous and savage people, allow of it, and perhaps the more from our example. Had the professors of christianity acted indeed as such, they might have been instrumental to convince the Negroes of their error in this respect; but even this, when inquired into, will be to us an occasion of blushing, if we are not hardened to every sense of shame, rather than a _palliation_ of our iniquitous conduct; as it will appear that the slavery endured in Guinea, and other parts of Africa, and in Asia,[A] is by no means so grievous as that in our colonies. William Moor, speaking of the natives living on the river Gambia,[B] says, "Tho' some of the Negroes have many house slaves, which are their greatest glory; that those slaves live so well and easy, that it is sometimes a hard matter to know the slaves from their masters or mistresses. And that though in some parts of Africa they sell their slaves born in the family, yet on the river Gambia they think it a very wicked thing." The author adds, "He never heard of but one that ever sold a family slave, except for such crimes as they would have been sold for if they had been free." And in Astley's collection, speaking of the customs of the Negroes in that large extent of country further down the coast, particularly denominated the coast of Guinea, it is said,[C] "They have not many slaves on the coast; none but the King or nobles are permitted to buy or sell any; so that they are allowed only what are necessary for their families, or tilling the ground." The same author adds, "_That they generally use their slaves well, and seldom correct them_." [Footnote A: In the history of the piratical states of Barbary, printed in 1750, _said to be_ wrote by a person who resided at Algiers, in a public character, at page 265 the author says, "The world exclaims against the Algerines for their cruel treatment of their slaves, and their employing even tortures to convert them to mahometism: but this is a vulgar error, artfully propagated for selfish views. So far are their slaves from being ill used, that they must have committed some very great fault to suffer any punishment. Neither are they forced to work beyond their strength, but rather spared, lest they should fall sick. Some are so pleased with their situation, that they will not purchase their ransom, though they are able." It is the same generally through the Mahometan countries, except in some particular instances, as that of Muley Ishmael, late Emperor of Morocco, who being naturally barbarous, frequently used both his subjects and slaves with cruelty. Yet even under him the usage the slaves met with was, in general, much more tolerable than that of the Negroe slaves in the West Indies. Captain Braithwaite, an author of credit, who accompanied consul general Russel in a congratulatory ambassy to Muley Ishmael's successor, upon his accession to the throne, says, "The situation of the christian slaves in Morocco was not near so bad as represented.--That it was true they were kept at labour by the late Emperor, but not harder than our daily labourers go through.--Masters of ships were never obliged to work, nor such as had but a small matter of money to give the Alcaide.--When sick, they had a religious house appointed for them to go to, where they were well attended: and whatever money in charity was sent them by their friends in Europe, was their own." Braithwaite's revolutions of Morocco. Lady Montague, wife of the English ambassador at Constantinople, in her letters, vol. 3. page 20, writes, "I know you expect I should say something particular of the slaves; and you will imagine me half a Turk, when I do not speak of it with the same horror other christians have done before me; but I cannot forbear applauding the humanity of the Turks to these creatures; they are not ill used; and their slavery, in my opinion, is no worse than servitude all over the world. It is true they have no wages, but they give them yearly cloaths to a higher value than our salaries to our ordinary servants." ] [Footnote B: W. Moor, p. 30] [Footnote C: Collection vol. 2. p. 647.] CHAP. VII. Montesquieu's sentiments on slavery. Moderation enjoined by the Mosaic law in the punishment of offenders. Morgan Godwyn's account of the contempt and grievous rigour exercised upon the Negroes in his time. Account from Jamaica, relating to the inhuman treatment of them there. Bad effects attendant on slave-keeping, as well to the masters as the slaves. Extracts from several laws relating to Negroes. Richard Baxter's sentiments on slave-keeping. That celebrated civilian Montesquieu, in his treatise _on the spirit of laws_, on the article of slavery says, "_It is neither useful to the master nor slave; to the slave, because he can do nothing through principle (or virtue); to the master, because he contracts with his slave all sorts of bad habits, insensibly accustoms himself to want all moral virtues; becomes haughty, hasty, hard-hearted, passionate, voluptuous, and cruel_." The lamentable truth of this assertion was quickly verified in the English plantations. When the practice of slave-keeping was introduced, it soon produced its natural effects; it reconciled men, of otherwise good dispositions, to the most hard and cruel measures. It quickly proved, what, under the law of Moses, was apprehended would be the consequence of unmerciful chastisements. Deut. xxv. 2. "_And it shall be if the wicked man be worthy to be beaten, that the judge shall cause him to lie down, and to be beaten before his face, according to his fault, by a certain number; forty stripes he may give him, and not exceed_." And the reason rendered, is out of respect to human nature, viz. "_Lest if he should exceed, and beat him above these with many stripes, then thy brother should seem vile unto thee_." As this effect soon followed the cause, the cruelest measures were adopted, in order to make the most of the poor _wretches_ labour; and in the minds of the masters such an idea was excited of inferiority, in the nature of these their unhappy fellow creatures, that they soon esteemed and treated them as beasts of burden: pretending to doubt, and some of them even presuming to deny, that the efficacy of the death of Christ extended to them. Which is particularly noted in a book, intitled _The Negroes and Indians advocate_, dedicated to the then Archbishop of Canterbury, wrote so long since as in the year 1680, by Morgan Godwyn, thought to be a clergyman of the church of England.[A] The same spirit of sympathy and zeal which stirred up the good Bishop of Chapia to plead with so much energy the kindred cause of the Indians of America, an hundred and fifty years before, was equally operating about a century past on the minds of some of the well disposed of that day; amongst others this worthy clergyman, having been an eye witness of the oppression and cruelty exercised upon the Negro and Indian slaves, endeavoured to raise the attention of those, in whose power it might be to procure them relief; amongst other matters, in his address to the Archbishop, he remarks in substance, "That the people of the island of Barbadoes were not content with exercising the greatest hardness and barbarity upon the Negroes, in making the most of their labour, without any regard to the calls of humanity, but that they had suffered such a slight and undervaluement to prevail in their minds towards these their oppressed fellow creatures, as to discourage any step being taken, whereby they might be made acquainted with the christian religion. That their conduct towards their slaves was such as gave him reason to believe, that either they had suffered a spirit of infidelity, a spirit quite contrary to the nature of the gospel, to prevail in them, or that it must be their established opinion that the Negroes had no more souls than beasts; that hence they concluded them to be neither susceptible of religious impressions, nor fit objects for the redeeming grace of God to operate upon. That under this persuasion, and from a disposition of cruelty, they treated them with far less humanity than they did their cattle; for, says he, they do not starve their horses, which they expect should both carry and credit them on the road; nor pinch the cow, by whose milk they are sustained; which yet, to their eternal shame, is too frequently the lot and condition of those poor people, from whose labour their wealth and livelihood doth wholly arise; not only in their diet, but in their cloathing, and overworking some of them even to death (which is particularly the calamity of the most innocent and laborious) but also in tormenting and whipping them almost, and sometimes quite, to death, upon even small miscarriages. He apprehends it was from this prejudice against the Negroes, that arose those supercilious checks and frowns he frequently met with, when using innocent arguments and persuasions, in the way of his duty as a minister of the gospel, to labour for the convincement and conversion of the Negroes; being repeatedly told, with spiteful scoffings, (even by some esteemed religious) that the Negroes were no more susceptible of receiving benefit, by becoming members of the church, than their dogs and bitches. The usual answer he received, when exhorting their masters to do their duty in that respect, being, _What! these black dogs be made christians! what! they be made like us! with abundance more of the same_. Nevertheless, he remarks that the Negroes were capable, not only of being taught to read and write, &c. but divers of them eminent in the management of business. He declares them to have an equal right with us to the merits of Christ; of which if through neglect or avarice they are deprived, that judgment which was denounced against wicked Ahab, must befal us: _Our life shall go for theirs_. The loss of their souls will be required at our hands, to whom God hath given so blessed an opportunity of being instrumental to their salvation." [Footnote A: "There is a principle which is pure, placed in the human mind, which in different places or ages hath had different names; it is, however, pure, and proceeds from God.--It is deep and inward, confined to no forms of religion, nor excluded from any, where the heart stands in perfect sincerity. In whomsoever this takes root and grows, of what nation soever, they become brethren in the best sense of the expression. Using ourselves to take ways which appear most easy to us, when inconsistent with that purity which is without beginning, we thereby set up a government of our own, and deny obedience to Him whose service is true liberty. He that has a servant, made so wrongfully, and knows it to be so, when he treats him otherwise than a free man, when he reaps the benefit of his labour, without paying him such wages as are reasonably due to free men for the like service; these things, though done in calmness, without any shew of disorder, do yet deprave the mind, in like manner, and with as great certainty, as prevailing cold congeals water. These steps taken by masters, and their conduct striking the minds of their children, whilst young, leave less room for that which is good to work upon them. The customs of their parents, their neighbours, and the people with whom they converse, working upon their minds, and they from thence conceiving wrong ideas of things, and modes of conduct, the entrance into their hearts becomes in a great measure shut up against the gentle movings of uncreated purity. "From one age to another the gloom grows thicker and darker, till error gets established by general opinion; but whoever attends to perfect goodness, and remains under the melting influence of it, finds a path unknown to many, and sees the necessity to lean upon the arm of divine strength, and dwell alone, or with a few in the right, committing their cause to him who is a refuge to his people. Negroes are our fellow creatures, and their present condition among us requires our serious consideration. We know not the time, when those scales, in which mountains are weighed, may turn. The parent of mankind is gracious, his care is over his smallest creatures, and a multitude of men escape not his notice; and though many of them are trodden down and despised, yet he remembers them. He seeth their affliction, and looketh upon the spreading increasing exaltation of the oppressor. He turns the channel of power, humbles the most haughty people, and gives deliverance to the oppressed, at such periods as are consistent with his infinite justice and goodness. And wherever gain is preferred to equity, and wrong things publickly encouraged, to that degree that wickedness takes root and spreads wide amongst the inhabitants of a country, there is a real cause for sorrow, to all such whose love to mankind stands on a true principle, and wisely consider the end and event of things." Consideration on keeping Negroes, by John Woolman, part 2. p. 50.] He complains, "That they were suffered to live with their women in no better way than direct fornication; no care being taken to oblige them to continue together when married; but that they were suffered at their will to leave their wives, and take to other women." I shall conclude this sympathizing clergyman's observations, with an instance he gives, to shew, "that not only discouragements and scoffs at that time prevailed in Barbadoes, to establish an opinion that the Negroes were not capable of religious impressions, but that even violence and great abuses were used to prevent any thing of the kind taking place. It was in the case of a poor Negro, who having, at his own request, prevailed on a clergyman to administer baptism to him, on his return home the brutish overseer took him to task, giving him to understand, that that was no sunday's work for those of his complexion; that he had other business for him, the neglect whereof would cost him an afternoon's baptism in blood, as he in the morning had received a baptism with water, (these, says the clergyman, were his own words) which he accordingly made good; of which the Negro complained to him, and he to the governor; nevertheless, the poor miserable creature was ever after so unmercifully treated by that inhuman wretch, the overseer, that, to avoid his cruelty, betaking himself to the woods, he there perished." This instance is applicable to none but the cruel perpetrator; and yet it is an instance of what, in a greater or less degree, may frequently happen, when those poor wretches are left to the will of such brutish inconsiderate creatures as those overseers often are. This is confirmed in a _History of Jamaica_, wrote in thirteen letters, about the year 1740, by a person then residing in that island, who writes as follows, "I shall not now enter upon the question, whether the slavery of the Negroes be agreeable to the laws of nature or not; though it seems extremely hard they should be reduced to serve and toil for the benefit of others, without the least advantage to themselves. Happy Britannia, where slavery is never known! where liberty and freedom chears every misfortune. Here (_says the author_) we can boast of no such blessing; we have at least ten slaves to one freeman. I incline to touch the hardships which these poor creatures suffer, in the tenderest manner, from a particular regard which I have to many of their masters, but I cannot conceal their sad circumstances intirely: the most trivial error is punished with terrible whipping. I have seen some of them treated in that cruel manner, for no other reason but to satisfy the brutish pleasure of an overseer, who has their punishment mostly at his discretion. I have seen their bodies all in a gore of blood, the skin torn off their backs with the cruel whip; beaten pepper and salt rubbed in the wounds, and a large stick of sealing wax dropped leisurely upon them. It is no wonder, if the horrid pain of such inhuman tortures incline them to rebel. Most of these slaves are brought from the coast of Guinea. When they first arrive, it is observed, they are simple and very innocent creatures; but soon turn to be roguish enough. And when they come to be whipt, urge the example of the whites for an excuse of their faults." These accounts of the deep depravity of mind attendant on the practice of slavery, verify the truth of Montesquieu's remark of its pernicious effects. And altho' the same degree of opposition to instructing the Negroes may not now appear in the islands as formerly, especially since the Society appointed for propagating the Gospel have possessed a number of Negroes in one of them; nevertheless the situation of these oppressed people is yet dreadful, as well to themselves as in its consequence to their hard task-masters, and their offspring, as must be evident to every impartial person who is acquainted with the treatment they generally receive, or with the laws which from time to time have been made in the colonies, with respect to the Negroes; some of them being absolutely inconsistent with reason, and shocking to humanity. By the 329th act of the assembly of Barbadoes, page 125, it is enacted, "That if any Negroe or other slave under punishment by his master, or his order, for running away, or any other crime or misdemeanors towards his said master, unfortunately shall suffer in life or member, (which seldom happens) no person whatsoever shall be liable to any fine therefore. But if any man shall, _of wantonness, or only of bloody-mindedness or cruel intention, wilfully kill a Negroe, or other slave of his own, he shall pay into the public treasury, fifteen pounds sterling_." Now that the life of a man should be so lightly valued, as that fifteen pounds should be judged a sufficient indemnification of the murder of one, even when it is avowedly done _wilfully, wantonly, cruelly, or of bloody-mindedness_, is a tyranny hardly to be paralleled: nevertheless human laws cannot make void the righteous law of God, or prevent the inquisition of that awful judgment day, when, "_at the hand of every man's brother the life of man shall be required_." By the law of South Carolina, the person that killeth a Negroe is only subject to a fine, or twelve months imprisonment. It is the same in most, if not all the West-Indies. And by an act of the assembly of Virginia, (4 Ann. Ch. 49. sect. 27. p. 227.) after proclamation is issued against slaves, "that run away and lie out, _it is lawful for any person whatsoever to kill and destroy such slaves, by such ways and means as he, she, or they shall think fit, without accusation or impeachment of any crime for the same_."--And lest private interest should incline the planter to mercy, it is provided, "_That every slave so killed, in pursuance of this act, shall be paid for by the public_." It was doubtless a like sense of sympathy with that expressed by Morgan Godwyn before mentioned, for the oppressed Negroes, and like zeal for the cause of religion, so manifestly trampled upon in the case of the Negroes, which induced Richard Baxter, an eminent preacher amongst the Dissenters in the last century, in his _christian directory_, to express himself as follows, viz. "Do you mark how God hath followed you with plagues; and may not conscience tell you, that it is for your inhumanity to the souls and bodies of men?"--"To go as pirates; and catch up poor Negroes, or people of another land, that never forfeited life or liberty, and to make them slaves, and sell them, is one of the worst kinds of thievery in the world; and such persons are to be taken for the common enemies of mankind; and they that buy them and use them as beasts for their mere commodity, and betray, or destroy, or neglect their souls, are fitter to be called devils incarnate than christians: It is an heinous sin to buy them, unless it be in charity to deliver them. Undoubtedly they are presently bound to deliver them, because by right the man is his own, therefore no man else can have a just title to him." CHAP. VIII. Griffith Hughes's account of the number of Negroes in Barbadoes. Cannot keep up their usual number without a yearly recruit. Excessive hardships wear the Negroes down in a surprising manner. A servitude without a condition, inconsistent with reason and natural justice. The general usage the Negroes meet with in the West Indies. Inhuman calculations of the strength and lives of the Negroes. Dreadful consequences which may be expected from the cruelty exercised upon this oppressed part of mankind. We are told by Griffith Hughes, rector of St. Lucy in Barbadoes, in his natural history of that island, printed in the year 1750, "That there were between sixty-five and seventy thousand Negroes, at that time, in the island, tho' formerly they had a greater number. That in order to keep up a necessary number, they were obliged to have a yearly supply from Africa. That the hard labour, and often want of necessaries, which these unhappy creatures are obliged to undergo, destroy a greater number than are bred there." He adds, "That the capacities of their minds in common affairs of life are but little inferior, if at all, to those of the Europeans. If they fail in some arts, he says, it may be owing more to their want of education, and the depression of their spirits by slavery, than to any want of natural abilities." This destruction of the human species, thro' unnatural hardships, and want of necessary supplies, in the case of the Negroes, is farther confirmed in _an account of the European settlements in America_, printed London, 1757, where it is said, par. 6. chap. 11th, "The Negroes in our colonies endure a slavery more compleat, and attended with far worse circumstances, than what any people in their condition suffer in any other part of the world, or have suffered in any other period of time: Proofs of this are not wanting. The prodigious waste which we experience in this unhappy part of our species, is a full and melancholy evidence of this truth. The island of Barbadoes, (the Negroes upon which do not amount to eighty thousand) notwithstanding all the means which they use to increase them by propagation, and that the climate is in every respect (except that of being more wholesome) exactly resembling the climate from whence they come; notwithstanding all this, Barbadoes lies under a necessity of an annual recruit of five thousand slaves, to keep up the stock at the number I have mentioned. This prodigious failure, which is at least in the same proportion in all our islands, shews demonstratively that some uncommon and unsupportable hardship lies upon the Negroes, which wears them down in such a surprising manner." In an account of part of North America, published by Thomas Jeffery, 1761, the author, speaking of the usage the Negroes receive in the West India islands, says, "It is impossible for a human heart to reflect upon the servitude of these dregs of mankind, without in some measure feeling for their misery, which ends but with their lives.--Nothing can be more wretched than the condition of this people. One would imagine, they were framed to be the disgrace of the human species; banished from their country, and deprived of that blessing, liberty, on which all other nations set the greatest value, they are in a measure reduced to the condition of beasts of burden. In general, a few roots, potatoes especially, are their food, and two rags, which neither screen them from the heat of the day, nor the extraordinary coolness of the night, all their covering; their sleep very short; their labour almost continual; they receive no wages, but have twenty lashes for the smallest fault." _A thoughtful_ person, who had an opportunity of observing the miserable condition of the Negroes in one of our West India islands, writes thus, "I met with daily exercise to see the treatment which those miserable wretches met with from their masters; with but few exceptions. They whip them most unmercifully on small occasions: you will see their bodies all whealed and scarred; in short, they seem to set no other value on their lives, than as they cost them so much money; and are restrained from killing them, when angry, by no worthier consideration, than that they lose so much. They act as though they did not look upon them as a race of human creatures, who have reason, and remembrance of misfortunes, but as beasts; like oxen, who are stubborn, hardy, and senseless, fit for burdens, and designed to bear them: they won't allow them to have any claim to human privileges, or scarce indeed to be regarded as the work of God. Though it was consistent with the justice of our Maker to pronounce the sentence on our common parent, and through him on all succeeding generations, _That he and they should eat their bread by the sweat of their brows_: yet does it not stand recorded by the same eternal truth, _That the labourer is worthy of his hire?_ It cannot be allowed, in natural justice, that there should be a servitude without condition; a cruel, endless servitude. It cannot be reconcileable to natural justice, that whole nations, nay, whole continents of men, should be devoted to do the drudgery of life for others, be dragged away from their attachments of relations and societies, and be made to serve the appetite and pleasure of a race of men, whose superiority has been obtained by illegal force." Sir Hans Sloane, in the introduction to his natural history of Jamaica, in the account he gives of the treatment the Negroes met with there, speaking of the punishments inflicted on them, says, page 56. "For rebellion, the punishment is burning them, by nailing them down to the ground with crooked sticks on every limb, and then applying the fire, by degrees, from the feet and hands, burning them gradually up to the head, whereby _their pains are extravagant_. For crimes of a less nature, gelding or chopping off half the foot with an axe.--For negligence, they are usually whipped by the overseers with lance-wood switches.--After they are whipped till they are raw, some put on their skins pepper and salt, to make them smart; at other times, their masters will drop melted wax on their skins, and use several _very exquisite torments_." In that island, the owners of the Negroe slaves set aside to each a parcel of ground, and allow them half a day at the latter end of the week, which, with the day appointed by the divine injunction to be a day of rest and service to God, and which ought to be kept as such, is the only time allowed them to manure their ground. This, with a few herrings, or other salt fish, is what is given for their support. Their allowance for cloathing in the island, is seldom more than six yards of oznabrigs each year. And in the more northern colonies, where the piercing westerly winds are long and sensibly felt, these poor Africans suffer much for want of sufficient cloathing; indeed some have none till they are able to pay for it by their labour. The time that the Negroes work in the West Indies, is from day-break till noon; then again from two o'clock till dark (during which time, they are attended by overseers, who severely scourge those who appear to them dilatory); and before they are suffered to go to their quarters, they have still something to do, as collecting herbage for the horses, gathering fuel for the boilers, &c. so that it is often past twelve before they can get home, when they have scarce time to grind and boil their Indian corn; whereby, if their food was not prepared the evening before, it sometimes happens that they are called again to labour before they can satisfy their hunger. And here no delay or excuse will avail; for if they are not in the field immediately upon the usual notice, they must expect to feel the overseer's lash. In crop time (which lasts many months) they are obliged, by turns, to work most of the night in the boiling house. Thus their owners, from a desire of making the greatest gain by the labour of their slaves, lay heavy burdens on them, and yet feed and cloath them very sparingly, and some scarce feed or cloath them at all; so that the poor creatures are obliged to shift for their living in the best manner they can, which occasions their being often killed in the neighbouring lands, stealing potatoes, or other food, to satisfy their hunger. And if they take any thing from the plantation they belong to, though under such pressing want, their owners will correct them severely for taking a little of what they have so hardly laboured for; whilst many of themselves riot in the greatest luxury and excess. It is matter of astonishment how a people, who, as a nation, are looked upon as generous and humane, and so much value themselves for their uncommon sense of the benefit of liberty, can live in the practice of such extreme oppression and inhumanity, without seeing the inconsistency of such conduct, and feeling great remorse. Nor is it less amazing to hear these men calmly making calculations about the strength and lives of their fellow men. In Jamaica, if six in ten of the new imported Negroes survive the seasoning, it is looked upon as a gaining purchase. And in most of the other plantations, if the Negroes live eight or nine years, their labour is reckoned a sufficient compensation for their cost. If calculations of this sort were made upon the strength and labour of beasts of burden, it would not appear so strange; but even then, a merciful man would certainly use his beast with more mercy than is usually shewn to the poor Negroes. Will not the groans, the dying groans, of this deeply afflicted and oppressed people reach heaven? and when the cup of iniquity is full, must not the inevitable consequence be, the pouring forth of the judgments of God upon their oppressors? But alas! is it not too manifest that this oppression has already long been the object of the divine displeasure? For what heavier judgment, what greater calamity, can befal any people, than to become subject to that hardness of heart, that forgetfulness of God, and insensibility to every religious impression, as well as that general depravation of manners, which so much prevails in these colonies, in proportion as they have more or less enriched themselves at the expence of the blood and bondage of the Negroes. It is a dreadful consideration, as a late author remarks, that out of the stock of eighty thousand Negroes in Barbadoes, there die every year five thousand more than are born in that island; which failure is probably in the same proportion in the other islands. _In effect, this people is under a necessity of being entirely renewed every sixteen years._ And what must we think of the management of a people, who, far from increasing greatly, as those who have no loss by war ought to do, must, in so short a time as sixteen years, without foreign recruits, be entirely consumed to a man! Is it not a christian doctrine, _that the labourer is worthy of his hire?_ And hath not the Lord, by the mouth of his prophet, pronounced, _"Wo unto that man who buildeth his house by unrighteousness, and his chambers by wrong; who uses his neighbour's service without wages, and giveth him nought for his work?"_ And yet the poor Negro slaves are constrained, like the beasts, by beating, to work hard without hire or recompence, and receive nothing from the hand of their unmerciful masters, but such a wretched provision as will scarce support them under their fatigues. The intolerable hardships many of the slaves undergo, are sufficiently proved by the shortness of their lives.--And who are these miserable creatures, that receive such barbarous treatment from the planter? Can we restrain our just indignation, when we consider that they are undoubtedly _his brethren! his neighbours! the children of the same Father, and some of those for whom Christ died, as truly as for the planter himself_. Let the opulent planter, or merchant, prove that his Negro slave is not his brother, or that he is not his neighbour, in the scripture sense of these appellations; and if he is not able so to do, how will he justify the buying and selling of his brethren, as if they were of no more consideration than his cattle? The wearing them out with continual labour, before they have lived out half their days? The severe whipping and torturing them, even to death, if they resist his unsupportable tyranny? Let the hardiest slave-holder look forward to that tremendous day, when he must give an account to God of his stewardship; and let him seriously consider, whether, at such a time, he thinks he shall be able to satisfy himself, that any act of buying and selling, or the fate of war, or the birth of children in his house, plantation, or territories, or any other circumstance whatever, can give him such an absolute property in the persons of men, as will justify his retaining them as slaves, and treating them as beasts? Let him diligently consider whether there will not always remain to the slave a _superior_ property or right to the fruit of his own labour; and more especially to his own person; that being which was given him by God, and which none but the Giver can justly claim? CHAP. IX. The advantage which would have accrued to the natives of Guinea, if the Europeans had acted towards them agreeable to the dictates of humanity and christianity. _An inordinate_ desire of gain in the Europeans, the true occasion of the slave trade. Notice of the misrepresentations of the Negroes by most authors, in order to palliate the iniquity of the slave trade. Those misrepresentations refuted, particularly with respect _to the Hottentot Negroes_. From the foregoing accounts of the natural disposition of the Negroes, and the fruitfulness of most parts of Guinea, which are confirmed by authors of candour, who have wrote from their own knowledge, it may well be concluded, that the Negroes acquaintance with the Europeans might have been a happiness to them, if these last had not only bore the name, but had also acted the part, of Christians, and used their endeavours by example, as well as precept, to make them acquainted with the glad tidings of the gospel, which breathes peace and good will to man, and with that change of heart, that redemption from sin, which christianity proposeth; innocence and love might then have prevailed, nothing would have been wanting to complete the happiness of the simple Africans: but the reverse has happened; the Europeans, forgetful of their duty as men and christians, have conducted themselves in so iniquitous a manner, as must necessarily raise in the minds of the thoughtful and well-disposed Negroes, the utmost scorn and detestation of the very name of christians. All other considerations have given way to an infallible desire of gain, which has been the principal and moving cause of the most _iniquitous and dreadful scene_ that was, perhaps, ever acted upon the face of the earth; instead of making use of that superior knowledge with which the Almighty, the common Parent of mankind, had favoured them, to strengthen the principle of peace and good will in the breasts of the incautious Negroes, the Europeans have, by their bad example, led them into excess of drunkenness, debauchery, and avarice; whereby every passion of corrupt nature being inflamed, they have been easily prevailed upon to make war, and captivate one another; as well to furnish means for the excesses they had been habituated to, as to satisfy the greedy desire of gain in their profligate employers, who to this intent have furnished them with prodigious quantities of arms and ammunition. Thus they have been hurried into confusion, distress, and all the extremities of temporal misery; every thing, even the power of their Kings, has been made subservient to this wicked purpose; for instead of being protectors of their subjects, some of those rulers, corrupted by the excessive love of spirituous liquors, and the tempting baits laid before them by the factors, have invaded the liberties of their unhappy subjects, and are become their oppressors. Here it may be necessary to observe, that the accounts we have of the inhabitants of Guinea, are chiefly given by persons engaged in the trade, who, from self-interested views, have described them in such colours as were least likely to excite compassion and respect, and endeavoured to reconcile so manifest a violation of the rights of mankind to the minds of the purchasers; yet they cannot but allow the Negroes to be possessed of some good qualities, though they contrive as much as possible to cast a shade over them. A particular instance of this appears in Astley's collection, vol. 2. p. 73, where the author, speaking of the Mandingos settled at Galem, which is situated 900 miles up the Senegal, after saying that they carry on a commerce to all the neighbouring kingdoms, and amass riches, adds, "That excepting _the vices peculiar to the Blacks_, they are a good sort of people, honest, hospitable, just to their word, laborious, industrious, and very ready to learn arts and sciences." Here it is difficult to imagine what vices can be peculiarly attendant on a people so well disposed as the author describes these to be. With respect to the charge some authors have brought against them, as being void of all natural affection, it is frequently contradicted by others. In vol. 2. of the Collection, p. 275, and 629, the Negroes of North Guinea, and the Gold Coast, are said _to be fond of their children, whom they love with tenderness_. And Bosman says, p. 340, "Not a few in his country (viz. Holland) fondly imagine, that parents here sell their children, men their wives, and one brother the other: but those who think so deceive themselves; for this never happens on any other account but that of necessity, or some great crime." The same is repeated by J. Barbot, page 326, and also confirmed by Sir Hans Sloane, in the introduction to his natural history of Jamaica; where speaking of the Negroes, he says, "They are usually thought to be haters of their own children, and therefore it is believed that they sell and dispose of them to strangers for money: but this is not true; for the Negroes of Guinea being divided into several captainships, as well as the Indians of America, have wars; and besides those slain in battle, many prisoners are taken, who are sold as slaves, and brought thither: but the parents here, although their children are slaves for ever, yet have so great love for them, that no master dares sell, or give away, one of their little ones, unless they care not whether their parents hang themselves or no." J. Barbot, speaking of the occasion of the natives of Guinea being represented as a treacherous people, ascribes it to the Hollanders (and doubtless other Europeans) usurping authority, and fomenting divisions between the Negroes. At page 110, he says, "It is well known that many of the European nations trading amongst these people, have very unjustly and inhumanly, without any provocation, stolen away, from time to time, abundance of the people, not only on this coast, but almost every where in Guinea, who have come on board their ships in a harmless and confiding manner: these they have in great numbers carried away, and sold in the plantations, with other slaves which they had purchased." And although some of the Negroes may be justly charged with indolence and supineness, yet many others are frequently mentioned by authors _as a careful, industrious, and even laborious_ people. But nothing shews more clearly how unsafe it is to form a judgment of distant people from the accounts given of them by travellers, who have taken but a transient view of things, than the case of the Hottentots, viz. those several nations of Negroes who inhabit the most southern part of Africa: _these people_ are represented by several authors, who appear to have very much copied their relations one from the other, as so savage and barbarous as to have little of human, but the shape: but these accounts are strongly contradicted by others, particularly Peter Kolben, who has given a circumstantial relation of the disposition and manners of those people.[A] He was a man of learning, sent from the court of Prussia solely to make astronomical and natural observations there; and having no interest in the slavery of the Negroes, had not the same inducement as most other relators had, to misrepresent the natives of Africa. He resided eight years at and about the Cape of Good Hope, during which time he examined with great care into the customs, manners, and opinions of the Hottentots; whence he sets these people in a quite different light from what they appeared in former authors, whom he corrects, and blames for the falsehoods they have wantonly told of them. At p. 61, he says, "The details we have in several authors, are for the most part made up of inventions and hearsays, which generally prove false." Nevertheless, he allows they are justly to be blamed for their sloth.--_The love of liberty and indolence is their all; compulsion is death to them. While necessity obliges them to work, they are very tractable, obedient, and faithful; but when they have got enough to satisfy the present want, they are deaf to all further intreaty_. He also faults them for their nastiness, the effect of sloth; and for their love of drink, and the practice of some unnatural customs, which long use has established amongst them; which, nevertheless, from the general good disposition of these people, there is great reason to believe they might be persuaded to refrain from, if a truly christian care had been extended towards them. He says, "They are eminently distinguished by many virtues, as their mutual benevolence, friendship, and hospitality; they breathe kindness and good will to one another, and seek all opportunities of obliging. Is a Hottentot's assistance required by one of his countrymen? he runs to give it. Is his advice asked? he gives it with sincerity. Is his countryman in want? he relieves him to the utmost of his power." Their hospitality extends even to European strangers: in travelling thro' the Cape countries, you meet with a chearful and open reception, in whatsoever village you come to. In short, he says, page 339, "The integrity of the Hottentots, their strictness and celerity in the execution of justice, and their charity, are equalled by few nations. _In alliances, their word is sacred; there being hardly any thing they look upon as a fouler crime than breach of engagements. Theft and adultery they punish with death_." They firmly believe there is a God, the author of all things, whom they call the God of gods; but it does not appear that they have an institution of worship directly regarding this supreme Deity. When pressed on this article, they excuse themselves by a tradition, "_That their first parents so grievously offended this great God, that he cursed them and their posterity with hardness of heart; so that they know little about him, and have less inclination to serve him_." As has been already remarked, these Hottentots are the only Negroe nations bordering on the sea, we read of, who are not concerned in making or keeping slaves. Those slaves made use of by the Hollanders at the Cape, are brought from other parts of Guinea. Numbers of these people told the author, "That the vices they saw prevail amongst christians; their avarice, their envy and hatred of one another; their restless discontented tempers; their lasciviousness and injustice, were the things that principally kept the Hottentots from hearkening to christianity." [Footnote A: See Kolban's account of the Cape of Good Hope.] Father Tachard, a French Jesuit, famous for his travels in the East Indies, in his account of these people, says, "The Hottentots have more honesty, love, and liberality for one another, than are almost anywhere seen amongst christians." CHAP. X. Man-stealing esteemed highly criminal, and punishable by the laws of Guinea: _No_ Negroes allowed to be sold for slaves there, but those deemed prisoners of war, or in punishment for crimes. _Some_ of the Negroe rulers, corrupted by the Europeans, violently infringe the laws of Guinea. The King of Barsailay noted in that respect. By an inquiry into the laws and customs formerly in use, and still in force amongst the Negroes, particularly on the Gold Coast, it will be found, that provision was made for the general peace, and for the safety of individuals; even in W. Bosman's time, long after the Europeans had established the slave-trade, the natives were not publicly enslaved, any otherwise than in punishment for crimes, when prisoners of war, or by a violent exertion of the power of their corrupted Kings. Where any of the natives were stolen, in order to be sold to the Europeans, it was done secretly, or at least, only connived at by those in power: this appears From Barbot and Bosman's account of the matter, both agreeing that man-stealing was not allowed on the Gold Coast. The first[A] says, "_Kidnapping or stealing of human creatures is punished there, and even sometimes with death._" And, W. Bosman, whose long residence on the coast, enabled him to speak with certainty, says,[B] "_That the laws were severe against murder, thievery, and adultery._" And adds, "_That man-stealing was punished on the Gold Coast with rigid severity and sometimes with death itself._" Hence it may be concluded, that the sale of the greatest part of the Negroes to the Europeans is supported by violence, in defiance of the laws, through the knavery of their principal men,[C] who, (as is too often the case with those in European countries) under pretence of encouraging trade, and increasing the public revenue, disregard the dictates of justice, and trample upon those liberties which they are appointed to preserve. [Footnote A: Barbot, p. 303.] [Footnote B: Bosman, p. 143.] [Footnote C: Note. Barbot, page 270, says, the trade of slaves is in a more peculiar manner the business of Kings, rich men, and prime merchants, exclusive of the inferior sort of blacks.] Fr. Moor also mentions man-stealing as being discountenanced by the Negroe Governments on the river Gambia, and speaks of the inslaving the peaceable inhabitants, as a violence which only happens under a corrupt administration of justice; he says,[A] "The Kings of that country generally advise with their head men, scarcely doing any thing of consequence, without consulting them first, except the King of Barsailay, who being subject to hard drinking, is very absolute. It is to this King's insatiable thirst for brandy, that his subjects freedoms and families are in so precarious a situation.[B] Whenever this King wants goods or brandy, he sends a messenger to the English Governor at James Fort, to desire he would send a sloop there with a cargo: _this news, being not at all unwelcome_, the Governor sends accordingly; against the arrival of the sloop, the King goes and ransacks some of his enemies towns, seizing the people, and selling them for such commodities as he is in want of, which commonly are brandy, guns, powder, balls, pistols, and cutlasses, for his attendants and soldiers; and coral and silver for his wives and concubines. In case he is not at war with any neighbouring King, he then falls upon one of his own towns, which are numerous, and uses them in the same manner." "He often goes with some of his troops by a town in the day time, and returning in the night, sets fire to three parts of it, and putting guards at the fourth, there seizes the people as they run out from the fire; he ties their arms behind them, and marches them either to Joar or Cohone, where he sells them to the Europeans." [Footnote A: Moor, page 61.] [Footnote B: Idem, p. 46.] A. Brue, the French director, gives much the same account, and says,[A] "That having received goods, he wrote to the King, that if he had a sufficient number of slaves, he was ready to trade with him. This Prince, as well as the other Negroe monarchs, has always a sure way of supplying his deficiencies, by selling his own subjects, for which they seldom want a pretence. The King had recourse to this method, by seizing three hundred of his own people, and sent word to the director, that he had the slaves ready to deliver for the goods." It seems, the King wanted double the quantity of goods which the factor would give him for these three hundred slaves; but the factor refusing to trust him, as he was already in the company's debt, and perceiving that this refusal had put the King much out of temper, he proposed that he should give him a licence for taking so many more of his people, as the goods he still wanted were worth but this the King refused, saying "_It_ might occasion a disturbance amongst his subjects."[B] Except in the above instance, and some others, where the power of the Negroe Kings is unlawfully exerted over their subjects, the slave-trade is carried on in Guinea with some regard to the laws of the country, which allow of none to be sold, but prisoners taken in their national wars, or people adjudged to slavery in punishment for crimes; but the largeness of the country, the number of kingdoms or commonwealths, and the great encouragement given by the Europeans, afford frequent pretences and opportunities to the bold designing profligates of one kingdom, to surprize and seize upon not only those of a neighbouring government, but also the weak and helpless of their own;[C] and the unhappy people, taken on those occasions, are, with impunity, sold to the Europeans. These practices are doubtless disapproved of by the most considerate amongst the Negroes, for Bosman acquaints us, that even their national wars are not agreeable to such. He says,[D] "If the person who occasioned the beginning of the war be taken, they will not easily admit him to ransom, though his weight in gold should be offered, for fear he should in future form some new design against their repose." [Footnote A: Collection vol. 2. p. 29.] [Footnote B: Note, This Negroe King thus refusing to comply with the factor's wicked proposal, shews, he was sensible his own conduct was not justifiable; and it likewise appears, the factor's only concern was to procure the greatest number of slaves, without any regard to the injustice of the method by which they were procured. This Andrew Brue, was, for a long time, principal director of the French African factory in those parts; in the management of which, he is in the collection said to have had extraordinary success. The part he ought to have acted as a christian towards the ignorant Africans seems quite out of the question; the profit of his employers appears to have been his sole concern. At page 62, speaking of the country on the Senegal river, he says, "It was very populous, the soil rich; and if the people were industrious, they might, of their own produce, carry on a very advantageous trade with strangers; there being but few things in which they could be excelled; _but_ (he adds) _it is to be hoped, the Europeans will never let them into the secret._" A remark unbecoming humanity, much more christianity!] [Footnote C: This inhuman practice is particularly described by Brue, in collect. vol. 2. page 98, where he says, "That some of the natives are, on all occasions, endeavouring to surprize and carry off their country people. They land (says he) without noise, and if they find a lone cottage, without defence, they surround it, and carry off all the people and effects to their boat, and immediately reimbark." This seems to be mostly practised by some Negroes who dwell on the sea coast.] [Footnote D: Bosman, p. 155.] CHAP. XI. An account of the shocking inhumanity, used in the carrying on of the slave-trade, as described by factors of different nations, viz. by Francis Moor, on the river Gambia; and by John Barbot, A. Brue, and William Bosman, through the coast of Guinea. _Note_. Of the large revenues arising to the Kings of Guinea from the slave-trade. First, Francis Moor, factor for the English African company, on the river Gambia,[A] writes, "That there are a number of Negro traders, called joncoes, or merchants, who follow the slave-trade as a business; their place of residence is so high up in the country as to be six weeks travel from James Fort, which is situate at the mouth of that river. These merchants bring down elephants teeth, and in some years two thousand slaves, most of which, they say, are prisoners taken in war. They buy them from the different Princes who take them; many of them are Bumbrongs and Petcharies; nations, who each of them have different languages, and are brought from a vast way inland. Their way of bringing them is tying them by the neck with leather thongs, at about a yard distant from each other, thirty or forty in a string, having generally a bundle of corn or elephants teeth upon each of their heads. In their way from the mountains, they travel thro' very great woods, where they cannot for some days get water; so they carry in skin bags enough to support them for a time. I cannot (adds Moor) be certain of the number of merchants who follow this trade, but there may, perhaps, be about an hundred, who go up into the inland country, with the goods which they buy from the white men, and with them purchase, in various countries, gold, slaves, and elephants teeth. Besides the slaves, which the merchants bring down, there are many bought along the river: These are either taken in war, as the former are, or men condemned for crimes; _or else people stolen, which is very frequent_.--Since the slave-trade has been used, all punishments are changed into slavery; there being an advantage on such condemnation, _they strain for crimes very hard, in order to get the benefit of selling the criminal_." [Footnote A: Moor, page 28.] John Barbot, the French factor, in his account of the manner by which the slaves are procured, says,[A] "The slaves sold by the Negroes, are for the most part prisoners of war, or taken in the incursions they make in their enemies territories; others are stolen away by their neighbours, when found abroad on the road, or in the woods; or else in the corn fields, at the time of the year when their parents keep them there all the day to scare away the devouring small birds." Speaking of the transactions on that part of Guinea called the Slave Coast, where the Europeans have the most factories, and from whence they bring away much the greatest number of slaves, the same author, and also Bosman[B] says, "The inhabitants of Coto do much mischief, in stealing those slaves they sell to the Europeans, from the upland country.--That the inhabitants of Popo excell the former; being endowed with a much larger share of courage, they rob more successfully, by which means they increase their riches and trade," The author particularly remarks, "_That they are encouraged in this practice by the Europeans_; sometimes it happens, according to the success of their inland excursions, that they are able to furnish two hundred slaves or more, in a few days." And he says,[C] "The blacks of Fida, or Whidah, are so expeditious in trading for slaves, that they can deliver a thousand every month."--"If there happens to be no stock of slaves there, the factor must trust the blacks with his goods, to the value of one hundred and fifty, or two hundred pounds; which goods they carry up into the inland country, to buy slaves at all markets,[D] for above six hundred miles up the country, where they are kept like cattle in Europe; the slaves sold there being generally prisoners of war, taken from their enemies like other booty, and perhaps some few sold by their own countrymen, in extreme want, or upon a famine, as also some as a punishment of heinous crimes." So far Barbot's account; that given by William Bosman is as follows:[E] "When the slaves which are brought from the inland countries come to Whidah, they are put in prison together; when we treat concerning buying them, they are all brought out together in a large plain, where, by our surgeons, they are thoroughly examined, and that naked, both men and women, without the least distinction or modesty.[F] Those which are approved as good, are set on one side; in the mean while a burning iron, with the arms or name of the company, lies in the fire, with which ours are marked on the breast. When we have agreed with the owners of the slaves, they are returned to their prisons, where, from that time forward, they are kept at our charge, and cost us two pence a day each slave, which serves to subsist them like criminals on bread and water; so that to save charges, we send them on board our ships the very first opportunity; before which, their masters strip them of all they have on their backs, so that they come on board stark naked, as well women as men. In which condition they are obliged to continue, if the master of the ship is not so charitable (which he commonly is) as to bestow something on them to cover their nakedness. Six or seven hundred are sometimes put on board a vessel, where they lie as close together as it is possible for them to be crowded." [Footnote A: John Barbot, page 47.] [Footnote B: Bosman, page 310.] [Footnote C: Barbot, page 326.] [Footnote D: When the great income which arises to the Negroe Kings on the Slave-Coast, from the slaves brought thro' their several governments, to be shipped on board the European vessels, is considered, we have no cause to wonder that they give so great a countenance to that trade: William Bosman says, page 337, "_That each ship which comes to Whidah to trade, reckoning one with another, either by toll, trade, or custom, pays about four hundred pounds, and sometimes fifty ships come hither in a year." Barbot confirms the same, and adds, page 350, "That in the neighbouring kingdom of Ardah, the duty to the King is the value of seventy or eighty slaves for each trading ship_." Which is near half as much more as at Whidah; nor can the Europeans, concerned in the trade, with any degree of propriety, blame the African Kings for countenancing it, while they continue to send vessels, on purpose to take in the slaves which are thus stolen, and that they are permitted, under the sanction of national laws, to sell them to the colonies.] [Footnote E: Bosman, page 340.] [Footnote F: Note, from the above account of the indecent and shocking manner in which the unhappy Negroes are treated, it is reasonable for persons unacquainted with these people, to conclude them to be void of that natural modesty, so becoming a reasonable creature; but those who have had intercourse with the Blacks in these northern colonies, know that this would be a wrong conclusion, for they are indeed as susceptible of modesty and shame as other people. It is the unparallel'd brutality, to which the Europeans have, by long custom, been inured, which urgeth them, without blushing, to act so shameful a part. Such usage is certainly grievous to the poor Negroes, particularly the women; but they are slaves, and must submit to this, or any other abuse that is offered them by their cruel task-masters, or expect to be inhumanly tormented into acquiescence. That the Blacks are unaccustomed to such brutality, appears from an instance mentioned in Ashley's collection, vol. 2. page 201, viz. "At an audience which Casseneuve had of the King of Congo, where he was used with a great deal of civility by the Blacks, some slaves were delivered to him. The King observing Casseneuve (according to the custom of the Europeans) to handle the limbs of the slaves, burst out a laughing, as did the great men about him: the factor asking the interpreter the occasion of their mirth, was told it proceeded from his so nicely examining the slaves. Nevertheless, _the King was so ashamed of it, that he desired him, for decency's sake, to do it in a more private manner._"] CHAP. XII. Extracts of several Journals of Voyages to the coast of Guinea for slaves, whereby the extreme inhumanity of that traffick is described. _Melancholy_ account of a ship blown up on that coast, with a great number of Negroes on board, _Instances_ of shocking barbarity perpetrated by masters of vessels towards their slaves. _Inquiry_ why these scandalous infringements, both of divine and human laws, are overlooked by the government. The misery and bloodshed attendant on the slave-trade, are set forth by the following extracts of two voyages to the coast of Guinea for slaves. The first in a vessel from Liverpool, taken _verbatim_ from the original manuscript of the Surgeon's Journal, _viz._ "Sestro, December the 29th, 1724, No trade to day, though many traders came on board; they informed us, that the people are gone to war within land, and will bring prisoners enough in two or three days, in hopes of which we stay." The 30th. "No trade yet, but our traders came on board to day, and informed us the people had burnt four towns of their enemies, so that to-morrow we expect slaves off: another large ship is come in. Yesterday came in a large Londoner." The 31st. "Fair weather, but no trade yet; we see each night towns burning, but we hear the Sestro men are many of them killed by the inland Negroes, so that we fear this war will be unsuccessful." The 2d of January. "Last night we saw a prodigious fire break out about eleven o'clock, and this morning see the town of Sestro burnt down to the ground; (it contained some hundreds of houses) So that we find their enemies are too hard for them at present, and consequently our trade spoiled here; therefore, about seven o'clock, we weighed anchor, as did likewise the three other vessels, to proceed lower down." The second relation, also taken from the original manuscript Journal of a person of credit, who went surgeon on the same trade, in a vessel from New-York, about twenty years past, is as follows; _viz._ "Being on the coast, the Commander of the vessel, according to custom, sent a person on shore with a present to the King, acquainting him with his arrival, and letting him know, they wanted a cargo of slaves. The King promised to furnish them with the slaves; and, in order to do it, set out to go to war against his enemies; designing to surprise some town, and take all the people prisoners. Some time after, the King sent them word, he had not yet met with the desired success; having been twice repulsed, in attempting to break up two towns, but that he still hoped to procure a number of slaves for them; and in this design he persisted, till he met his enemies in the field, where a battle was fought, which lasted three days, during which time the engagement was so bloody that four thousand five hundred men were slain on the spot." The person who wrote the account, beheld the bodies, as they lay on the field of battle. "Think (says he in his Journal) what a pitiable sight it was, to see the widows weeping over their lost husbands, orphans deploring the loss of their fathers, &c. &c." In he 6th vol. of Churchill's collection of Voyages, page 219, we have the relation of a voyage performed by Captain Philips, in a ship of 450 tuns, along the coast of Guinea, for elephants teeth, gold, and Negroe slaves, intended for Barbadoes; in which he says, that they took "seven hundred slaves on board, the men being all put in irons two by two, shackled together to prevent their mutinying or swimming ashore. That the Negroes are so loth to leave their own country, that they often leap out of the canoe, boat, or ship, into the sea, and keep under water till they are drowned, to avoid being taken up, and saved by the boats which pursue them."--They had about twelve Negroes who willingly drowned themselves; others starved themselves to death.--Philips was advised to cut off the legs and arms of some to terrify the rest, (as other Captains had done) but this he refused to do. From the time of his taking the Negroes on board, to his arrival at Barbadoes, no less than three hundred and twenty died of various diseases.[A] [Footnote A: _The following relation is inserted at the request of the author._ That I may contribute all in my power towards the good of mankind, by inspiring any individuals with a suitable abhorrence of that detestable practice of trading in our fellow-creatures, and in some measure atone for my neglect of duty as a Christian, in engaging in that wicked traffic, I offer to their serious consideration some few occurrences, of which I was an eye-witness; that being struck with the wretched and affecting scene, they may foster that humane principle, which is the noble and distinguished characteristic of man, and improve it to the benefit of their children's children. About the year 1749, I sailed from Liverpool to the coast of Guinea. Some time after our arrival, I was ordered to go up the country a considerable distance, upon having notice from one of the Negroe Kings, that he had a parcel of slaves to dispose of. I received my instructions, and went, carrying with me an account of such goods as we had on board, to exchange for the slaves we intended to purchase. Upon being introduced, I presented him with a small case of English spirits, a gun, and some trifles; which having accepted, and understood by an interpreter what goods we had, the next day was appointed for viewing the slaves; we found about two hundred confined in one place. But here how shall I relate the affecting sight I there beheld! How can I sufficiently describe the silent sorrow which appeared in the countenance of the afflicted father, and the painful anguish of the tender mother, expecting to be for ever separated from their tender offspring; the distressed maid, wringing her hands in presage of her future wretchedness, and the general cry of the innocent from a dreadful apprehension of the perpetual slavery to which they were doomed! Under a sense of my offence to God, in the persons of his creatures, I acknowledge I purchased eleven, whom I conducted tied two and two to the ship. Being but a small ship, (ninety ton) we soon purchased our cargo, consisting of one hundred and seventy slaves, whom thou mayest, reader, range in thy view, as they were shackled two and two together, pent up within the narrow confines of the main deck, with the complicated distress of sickness, chains, and contempt; deprived of every fond and social tie, and, in a great measure, reduced to a state of desperation. We had not been a fortnight at sea, before the fatal consequence of this despair appeared; they formed a design of recovering their natural right, LIBERTY, by rising and murdering every man on board; but the goodness of the Almighty rendered their scheme abortive, and his mercy spared us to have time to repent. The plot was discovered; the ring-leader, tied by the two thumbs over the barricade door, at sun-rise received a number of lashes: in this situation he remained till sun-set, exposed to the insults and barbarity of the brutal crew of sailors, with full leave to exercise their cruelty at pleasure. The consequence of this was, that next morning the miserable sufferer was found dead, flayed from the shoulders to the waist. The next victim was a youth, who, from too strong a sense of his misery, refused nourishment, and died disregarded and unnoticed, till the hogs had fed on part of his flesh. Will not christianity blush at this impious sacrilege? May the relation of it serve to call back the struggling remains of humanity in the hearts of those, who, from a love of wealth, partake in any degree of this oppressive gain; and have such an effect on the minds of the sincere, as may be productive of peace, the happy effect of true repentance for past transgressions, and a resolution to renounce all connexion with it for the time to come.] Reader, bring the matter home to thy own heart, and consider whether any situation can be more completely miserable than that of these distressed captives. When we reflect that each individual of this number had probably some tender attachment, which was broken by this cruel separation; some parent or wife, who had not an opportunity of mingling tears in a parting embrace; perhaps some infants, or aged parents, whom his labour was to feed, and vigilance protect; themselves under the most dreadful apprehension of an unknown perpetual slavery; confined within the narrow limits of a vessel, where often several hundreds lie as close as possible. Under these aggravated distresses, they are often reduced to a state of despair, in which many have been frequently killed, and some deliberately put to death under the greatest torture, when they have attempted to rise, in order to free themselves from present misery, and the slavery designed them. Many accounts of this nature might be mentioned; indeed from the vast number of vessels employed in the trade, and the repeated relations in the public prints of Negroes rising on board the vessels from Guinea, it is more than probable, that many such instances occur every year. I shall only mention one example of this kind, by which the reader may judge of the rest; it is in Astley's collection, vol. 2. p. 449, related by John Atkins, surgeon on board admiral Ogle's squadron, of one "Harding, master of a vessel in which several of the men-slaves and women-slaves had attempted to rise, in order to recover their liberty; some of whom the master, of his own authority, sentenced to cruel death, making them first eat the heart and liver of one of those he had killed. The woman he hoisted by the thumbs, whipped, and slashed with knives before the other slaves, till she died."[A] As detestable and shocking as this may appear to such whose hearts are not yet hardened by the practice of that cruelty, which the love of wealth by degrees introduceth into the human mind, it will not be strange to those who have been concerned or employed in the trade. [Footnote A: A memorable instance of some of the dreadful effects of the slave-trade, happened about five years past, on a ship from this port, then at anchor about three miles from shore, near Acra Fort, on the coast of Guinea. They had purchased between four and five hundred Negroes, and were ready to sail for the West Indies. It is customary on board those vessels, to keep the men shackled two by two, each by one leg to a small iron bar; these are every day brought on the deck for the benefit of air; and lest they should attempt to recover their freedom, they are made fast to two common chains, which are extended on each side the main deck; the women and children are loose. This was the situation of the slaves on board this vessel, when it took fire by means of a person who was drawing spirits by the light of a lamp; the cask bursting, the fire spread with so much violence, that in about ten minutes, the sailors, apprehending it impossible to extinguish it before it could reach a large quantity of powder they had on board, concluded it necessary to cast themselves into the sea, as the only chance of saving their lives; and first they endeavoured to loose the chains by which the Negroe men were fastened to the deck; but in the confusion the key being missing, they had but just time to loose one of the chains by wrenching the staple; when the vehemence of the fire so increased, that they all but one man jumped over board, when immediately the fire having gained the powder, the vessel blew up with all the slaves who remained fastened to the one chain, and such others as had not followed the sailors examples. There happened to be three Portugueze vessels in sight, who, with others from the shore, putting out their boats, took up about two hundred and fifty of those poor souls who remained alive; of which number, about fifty died on shore, being mostly of those who were fettered together by iron shackles, which, as they jumped into the sea, had broke their legs, and these fractures being inflamed by so long a struggle in the sea, probably mortified, which occasioned the death of every one that was so wounded. The two hundred remaining alive, were soon disposed of, for account of the owners to other purchasers.] Now here arises a necessary query to those who hold the balance of justice, and who must be accountable to God for the use they have made of it, That as the principles on which the British constitution is founded, are so favourable to the common rights of mankind, how it has happened that the laws which countenance this iniquitous traffic, have obtained the sanction of the legislature? and that the executive part of the government should so long shut their ears to continual reports of the barbarities perpetrated against this unhappy people, and leave the trading subjects at liberty to trample on the most precious rights of others, even without a rebuke? Why are the masters of vessels thus suffered to be the sovereign arbiters of the lives of the miserable Negroes, and allowed with impunity thus to destroy (may I not properly say, _to murder_) their fellow-creatures; and that by means so cruel, as cannot be even related but with shame and horror? CHAP. XIII. Usage of the Negroes, when they arrive in the West Indies. An hundred thousand Negroes brought from Guinea every year to the English colonies. The number of Negroes who die in the passage and seasoning. These are, properly speaking, murdered by the prosecution of this infamous traffic. Remarks on its dreadful _effects and tendency_. When the vessels arrive at their destined port in the colonies, the poor Negroes are to be disposed of to the planters; and here they are again exposed naked, without any distinction of sexes, to the brutal examination of their purchasers; and this, it may well be judged, is, to many, another occasion of deep distress. Add to this, that near connexions must now again be separated, to go with their several purchasers; this must be deeply affecting to all, but such whose hearts are seared by the love of gain. Mothers are seen hanging over their daughters, bedewing their naked breasts with tears, and daughters clinging to their parents, not knowing what new stage of distress must follow their separation, or whether they shall ever meet again. And here what sympathy, what commiseration, do they meet with? Why, indeed, if they will not separate as readily as their owners think proper, the whipper is called for, and the lash exercised upon their naked bodies, till obliged to part. Can any human heart, which is not become callous by the practice of such cruelties, be unconcerned, even at the relation of such grievous affliction, to which this oppressed part of our species are subjected. In a book, printed in Liverpool, called _The Liverpool Memorandum_, which contains, amongst other things, an account of the trade of that port, there is an exact list of the vessels employed in the Guinea trade, and of the number of slaves imported in each vessel; by which it appears that in the year 1753, the number imported to America by one hundred and one vessels belonging to that port, amounted to upwards of thirty thousand; and from the number of vessels employed by the African company in London and Bristol, we may, with some degree of certainty, conclude, there are one hundred thousand Negroes purchased and brought on board our ships yearly from the coast of Africa. This is confirmed in Anderson's history of Trade and Commerce, lately printed; where it is said,[A] "That England supplies her American colonies with Negroe slaves, amounting in number to above one hundred thousand every year." When the vessels are full freighted with slaves, they sail for our plantations in America, and may be two or three months in the voyage; during which time, from the filth and stench that is among them, distempers frequently break out, which carry off commonly a fifth, a fourth, yea sometimes a third or more of them: so that taking all the slaves together, that are brought on board our ships yearly, one may reasonably suppose, that at least ten thousand of them die on the voyage. And in a printed account of the state of the Negroes in our plantations, it is supposed that a fourth part, more or less, die at the different islands, in what is called the seasoning. Hence it may be presumed, that at a moderate computation of the slaves who are purchased by our African merchants in a year, near thirty thousand die upon the voyage, and in the seasoning. Add to this, the prodigious number who are killed in the incursions and intestine wars, by which the Negroes procure the number of slaves wanted to load the vessels. How dreadful then is this slave-trade, whereby so many thousands of our fellow creatures, free by nature, endued with the same rational faculties, and called to be heirs of the same salvation with us, lose their lives, and are, truly and properly speaking, murdered every year! For it is not necessary, in order to convict a man of murder, to make it appear that he had an _intention_ to commit murder; whoever does, by unjust force or violence, deprive another of his liberty, and, while he hath him in his power, continues so to oppress him by cruel treatment, as eventually to occasion his death, is actually guilty of murder. It is enough to make a thoughtful person tremble, to think what a load of guilt lies upon our nation on this account; and that the blood of thousands of poor innocent creatures, murdered every year in the prosecution of this wicked trade, cries aloud to Heaven for vengeance. Were we to hear or read of a nation that destroyed every year, in some other way, as many human creatures as perish in this trade, we should certainly consider them as a very bloody, barbarous people; if it be alledged, that the legislature hath encouraged, and still does encourage this trade, It is answered, that no legislature on earth can alter the nature of things, so as to make that to be right which is contrary to the law of God, (the supreme Legislator and Governor of the world) and opposeth the promulgation of the Gospel of _peace on earth, and good will to man_. Injustice may be methodized and established by law, but still it will be injustice, as much as it was before; though its being so established may render men more insensible of the guilt, and more bold and secure in the perpetration of it. [Footnote A: Appendix to Anderson's history, p. 68.] CHAP. XIV. Observations on the disposition and capacity of the Negroes: Why thought inferior to that of the Whites. Affecting instances of the slavery of the Negroes. Reflections thereon. Doubts may arise in the minds of some, whether the foregoing accounts, relating to the natural capacity and good disposition of the inhabitants of Guinea, and of the violent manner in which they are said to be torn from their native land, are to be depended upon; as those Negroes who are brought to us, are not heard to complain, and do but seldom manifest such a docility and quickness of parts, as is agreeable thereto. But those who make these objections, are desired to note the many discouragements the poor Africans labour under, when brought from their native land. Let them consider, that those afflicted strangers, though in an _enlightened Christian country_, have yet but little opportunity or encouragement to exert and improve their natural talents: They are constantly employed in servile labour; and the abject condition in which we see them, naturally raises an idea of a superiority in ourselves; whence we are apt to look upon them as an ignorant and contemptible part of mankind. Add to this, that they meet with very little encouragement of freely conversing with such of the Whites, as might impart instruction to them. It is a fondness for wealth, for authority, or honour, which prompts most men in their endeavours to excell; but these motives can have little influence upon the minds of the Negroes; few of them having any reasonable prospect of any other than a state of slavery; so that, though their natural capacities were ever so good, they have neither inducement or opportunity to exert them to advantage: This naturally tends to depress their minds, and sink their spirits into habits of idleness and sloth, which they would, in all likelihood, have been free from, had they stood upon an equal footing with the white people. They are suffered, with impunity, to cohabit together, without being married; and to part, when solemnly engaged to one another as man and wife; notwithstanding the moral and religious laws of the land, strictly prohibiting such practices. This naturally tends to beget apprehensions in the most thoughtful of those people, that we look upon them as a lower race, not worthy of the same care, nor liable to the same rewards and punishments as ourselves. Nevertheless it may with truth be said, that both amongst those who have obtained their freedom, and those who remain in servitude, some have manifested a strong sagacity and an exemplary uprightness of heart. If this hath not been generally the case with them, is it a matter of surprize? Have we not reason to make the same complaint of many white servants, when discharged from our service, though many of them have had much greater opportunities of knowledge and improvement than the blacks; who, even when free, labour under the same difficulties as before: having but little access to, and intercourse with, the most reputable white people, they remain confined within their former limits of conversation. And if they seldom complain of the unjust and cruel usage they have received, in being forced from their native country, &c. it is not to be wondered at; it being a considerable time after their arrival amongst us, before they can speak our language; and, by the time they are able to express themselves, they have great reason to believe, that little or no notice would be taken of their complaints: yet let any person enquire of those who were capable of reflection, before they were brought from their native land, and he will hear such affecting relations, as, if not lost to the common feelings of humanity, will sensibly affect his heart. The case of a poor Negroe, not long since brought from Guinea, is a recent instance of this kind. From his first arrival, he appeared thoughtful and dejected, frequently dropping tears when taking notice of his master's children, the cause of which was not known till he was able to speak English, when the account he gave of himself was, "That he had a wife and children in his own country; that some of these being sick and thirsty, he went in the night time, to fetch water at a spring, where he was violently seized and carried away by persons who lay in wait to catch men, from whence he was transported to America. The remembrance of his family, friends, and other connections, left behind, which he never expected to see any more, were the principal cause of his dejection and grief." Many cases, equally affecting, might be here mentioned; but one more instance, which fell under the notice of a person of credit, will suffice. One of these wretched creatures, then about 50 years of age, informed him, "That being violently torn from a wife and several children in Guinea, he was sold in Jamaica, where never expecting to see his native land or family any more, he joined himself to a Negroe woman, by whom he had two children: after some years, it suiting the interest of his owner to remove him, he was separated from his second wife and children, and brought to South Carolina, where, expecting to spend the remainder of his days, he engaged with a third wife, by whom he had another child; but here the same consequence of one man being subject to the will and pleasure of another man occurring, he was separated from this last wife and child, and brought into this country, where he remained a slave." Can any, whose mind is not rendered quite obdurate by the love of wealth, hear these relations, without being deeply touched with sympathy and sorrow? And doubtless the case of many, very many of these afflicted people, upon enquiry, would be found to be attended with circumstances equally tragical and aggravating. And if we enquire of those Negroes, who were brought away from their native country when children, we shall find most of them to have been stolen away, when abroad from their parents, on the roads, in the woods, or watching their corn-fields. Now, you that have studied the book of conscience, and you that are learned in the law, what will you say to such deplorable cases? When, and how, have these oppressed people forfeited their liberty? Does not justice loudly call for its being restored to them? Have they not the same right to demand it, as any of us should have, if we had been violently snatched by pirates from our native land? Is it not the duty of every dispenser of justice, who is not forgetful of his own humanity, to remember that these are men, and to declare them free? Where instances of such cruelty frequently occur, and are neither enquired into, nor redressed, by those whose duty it is _to seek judgment, and relieve the oppressed_, Isaiah i. 17. what can be expected, but that the groans and cries of these sufferers will reach Heaven; and what shall we do _when God riseth up? and when he visiteth_, what will ye answer him? _Did not he that made them, make us; and did not one fashion us in the womb_? Job xxxi. 14. CHAP XIV. The expediency of a general freedom being granted to the Negroes considered. _Reasons_ why it might be productive of advantage and _safety to the Colonies_. It is scarce to be doubted, but that the foregoing accounts will beget in the heart of the considerate readers an earnest desire to see a stop put to this complicated evil, but the objection with many is, What shall be done with those Negroes already imported, and born in our families? Must they be sent to Africa? That would be to expose them, in a strange land, to greater difficulties than many of them labour under at present. To let them suddenly free here, would be perhaps attended with no less difficulty; for, undiciplined as they are in religion and virtue, they might give a loose to those evil habits, which the fear of a master would have restrained. These are objections, which weigh with many well disposed people, and it must be granted, these are difficulties in the way; nor can any general change be made, or reformation effected, without some; but the difficulties are not so great but that they may be surmounted. If the government was so considerate of the iniquity and danger attending on this practice, as to be willing to seek a remedy, doubtless the Almighty would bless this good intention, and such methods would be thought of, as would not only put an end to the unjust oppression of the Negroes, but might bring them under regulations, that would enable them to become profitable members of society; for the furtherance of which, the following proposals are offered to consideration: That all farther importation of slaves be absolutely prohibited; and as to those born among us, after serving so long as may appear to be equitable, let them by law be declared free. Let every one, thus set free, be enrolled in the county courts, and be obliged to be a resident, during a certain number of years, within the said county, under the care of the overseers of the poor. Thus being, in some sort, still under the direction of governors, and the notice of those who were formerly acquainted with them, they would be obliged to act the more circumspectly, and make proper use of their liberty, and their children would have an opportunity of obtaining such instructions, as are necessary to the common occasions of life; and thus both parents and children might gradually become useful members of the community. And further, where the nature of the country would permit, as certainly the uncultivated condition of our southern and most western colonies easily would, suppose a small tract of land were assigned to every Negroe family, and they obliged to live upon and improve it, (when not hired out to work for the white people) this would encourage them to exert their abilities, and become industrious subjects. Hence, both planters and tradesmen would be plentifully supplied with chearful and willing-minded labourers, much vacant land would be cultivated, the produce of the country be justly increased, the taxes for the support of government lessened to individuals, by the increase of taxables, and the Negroes, instead of being an object of terror,[A] as they certainly must be to the governments where their numbers are great, would become interested in their safety and welfare. [Footnote A: The hard usage the Negroes meet with in the plantations, and the great disproportion between them and the white people, will always be a just cause of terror. In Jamaica, and some parts of South-Carolina, it is supposed that there are fifteen blacks to one white.] CHAP. XV. Answer to a mistaken opinion, that the warmth of the climate in the West-Indies, will not permit white people to labour there. No complaint of disability in the whites, in that respect, in the settlement of the islands. Idleness and diseases prevailed, as the use of slaves increased. _The great_ advantage which might accrue to the British nation, if the slave trade was entirely laid aside, and a fair and friendly commerce established through the whole coast of Africa. It is frequently offered as an argument, in vindication of the use of Negroe slaves, that the warmth of the climate in the West Indies will not permit white people to labour in the culture of the land: but upon an acquaintance with the nature of the climate, and its effects upon such labouring white people, as are prudent and moderate in labour, and the use of spirituous liquors, this will be found to be a mistaken opinion. Those islands were, at first, wholly cultivated by white men; the encouragement they then met with, for a long course of years, was such as occasioned a great increase of people. Richard Ligon, in his history of Barbadoes, where he resided from the year 1647 to 1650, about 24 years after his first settlement, writes, "that there were then fifty thousand souls on that island, besides Negroes; and that though the weather was very hot, yet not so scalding but that servants, both christians and slaves, laboured ten hours a day." By other accounts we gather, that the white people have since decreased to less than one half the number which was there at that time; and by relations of the first settlements of the other islands, we do not meet with any complaints of unfitness in the white people for labour there, before slaves were introduced. The island of Hispaniola, which is one of the largest of those islands, was at first planted by the Buccaneers, a set of hardy laborious men, who continued so for a long course of years; till following the example of their neighbours, in the purchase and use of Negroe slaves, idleness and excess prevailing, debility and disease naturally succeeded, and have ever since continued. If, under proper regulations, liberty was proclaimed through the colonies, the Negroes, from dangerous, grudging, half-fed slaves, might become able, willing-minded labourers. And if there was not a sufficient number of these to do the necessary work, a competent number of labouring people might be procured from Europe, which affords numbers of poor distressed objects, who, if not overlooked, with proper usage, might, in several respects, better answer every good purpose in performing the necessary labour in the islands, than the slaves now do. A farther considerable advantage might accrue to the British nation in general, if the slave trade was laid aside, by the cultivation of a fair, friendly, and humane commerce with the Africans; without which, it is not possible the inland trade of that country should ever be extended to the degree it is capable of; for while the spirit of butchery and making slaves of each other, is promoted by the Europeans amongst the Negroes, no mutual confidence can take place; nor will the Europeans be able to travel with safety into the heart of their country, to form and cement such commercial friendships and alliances, as might be necessary to introduce the arts and sciences amongst them, and engage their attention to instruction in the principles of the christian religion, which is the only sure foundation of every social virtue. Africa has about ten thousand miles of sea coast, and extends in depth near three thousand miles from east to west, and as much from north to south, stored with vast treasures of materials, necessary for the trade and manufactures of Great-Britain; and from its climate, and the fruitfulness of its soil, capable, under proper management, of producing in the greatest plenty, most of the commodities which are imported into Europe from those parts of America subject to the English government;[A] and as, in return, they would take our manufactures, the advantages of this trade would soon become so great, that it is evident this subject merits the regard and attention of the government. [Footnote A: See note, page 109.] EXTRACT FROM A REPRESENTATION OF THE INJUSTICE AND DANGEROUS TENDENCY OF TOLERATING SLAVERY; OR Admitting the least CLAIM of private Property in the Persons of Men in _England_. By GRANVILLE SHARP. FIRST PRINTED IN LONDON. MDCCLXIX. CONTENTS. _The occasion of this Treatise. All Persons during their residence in_ Great Britain _are subjects; and as such, bound to the laws, and under the Kings protection. By the English laws, no man, of what condition soever, to be imprisoned, or any way deprived of his_ LIBERTY, _without a legal process. The danger of_ Slavery _taking place in England. Prevails in the Northern Colonies, notwithstanding the people's plea in favour of_ Liberty. _Advertisements in the New-York Journal for the sale of_ SLAVES. _Advertisements to the same purpose in the public prints in England. The danger of confining any person without a legal warrant. Instances of that nature. Note, Extract of several American laws, Reflexions thereon._ EXTRACT, &C. Some persons respectable in the law, having given it as their opinion, "_That a slave, by coming from the West Indies to Great Britain or Ireland, either with or without his master, doth not become free, or that his master's property or right in him is not thereby determined or varied;--and that the master may legally compel him to return again to the plantations_,"--this causes our author to remark, that these lawyers, by thus stating the case merely on one side of the question, (I mean in favour of the master) have occasioned an unjust presumption and prejudice, plainly inconsistent with the laws of the realm, and against the other side of the question; as they have not signified that their opinion was only conditional, and not absolute, and must be understood on the part of the master, "_That he can produce an authentic agreement or contract in writing, by which it shall appear, that the said slave hath voluntarily bound himself, without compulsion or illegal duress_." Page 5. Indeed there are many instances of persons being freed from slavery by the laws of England, but (God be thanked) there is neither law, nor even a precedent, (at least I have not been able to find one) of a legal determination to justify a master in claiming or detaining any person whatsoever as a slave in England, who has not voluntarily bound himself as such by a contract in writing. Page 20. An English subject cannot be made a slave without his own free consent: but--a foreign slave is made a subject with or without his own consent: there needs no contract for this purpose, as in the other case; nor any other act or deed whatsoever, but that of his being landed in England; For according to statute 32d of Henry VIII. c. 16. Sect. 9. "_Every alien or stranger born out of the King's obeisance, not being denizen, which now or hereafter shall come into this realm, or elsewhere within the King's dominions, shall, after the said first of September next coming, be bounden by and unto the laws and statutes of this realm, and to all and singular the contents of the same._" Now it must be observed, that this law makes no distinction of _bond or free_, neither of colours or complexions, whether of _black, brown_, or _white_; for "_every alien or stranger_ (without exception) _are bounden by and unto the law_, &c." This binding, or obligation, is properly expressed by the English word _ligeance, (à ligando_) which may be either perpetual or temporary. Wood, b. I. c. 3. p. 37. But one of these is indispensably due to the Sovereign from all ranks and conditions of people; their being bounden unto the laws, (upon which the Sovereign's right is founded) expresses and implies this subjection to the laws; and therefore to alledge, that an alien is not a subject, because he is in bondage, is not only a plea without foundation, but a contradiction in terms; for every person who, in any respect, is in subjection to the laws, must undoubtedly be a subject. I come now to the main point--"_That every man, woman, or child, that now is, or hereafter shall be, an inhabitant or resiant of this kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, or town of Berwick upon Tweed,_" is, in some respect or other, the _King's subject_, and, as such, is absolutely secure in his or her _personal liberty_, by virtue of a statute, 31st Car. II. ch. 11. and particularly by the 12th Sect. of the same, wherein subjects of all conditions are plainly included. This act is expressly intended for the better securing the liberty of the subject, and for prevention of imprisonment beyond the seas. It contains no distinction of "_natural born, naturalized, denizen, or alien subject; nor of white or black, freemen, or even of bond-men_," (except in the case already mentioned _of a contract in writing_, by which it shall appear, _that the said slave has voluntarily bound himself, without compulsion or illegal duress_, allowed by the 13th Sect. and the exception likewise in the 14th Sect. concerning felons) but they are all included under the general titles of "_the subject, any of the said subjects, every such person_" &c. Now the definition of the word "_person_," in its relative or civil capacity (according to Wood. b. I. c. 11. p. 27.) _is either the King, or a subject_. These are the _only capital distinctions_ that can be made, tho' the latter consists of a variety of denominations and degrees. But if I were even to allow, that a _Negroe slave_ is not a subject, (though I think I have clearly proved that he is) yet it is plain that such an one ought not to be denied the benefit of the King's court, unless the slave-holder shall be able to prove likewise that he is not, a _Man_; because _every man_ may be _free_ to sue for, and _defend his right in our courts_, says a stat. 20th Edw. III. c. 4. and elsewhere, according to law. And _no man, of what estate or condition_ that he be, (here can be no exception whatsoever) _shall be put out of land or tenement, nor taken, nor imprisoned, nor disinherited, nor put to death, without being brought in answer by due process of the law_. 28th Edw. III, c. 3, _No man_ therefore, _of what estate or condition that he be_, can lawfully be detained in England _as a slave_; because we have no law whereby a man _may be_ condemned to _slavery_ without his own consent, (for even convicted felons must "_in open court pray to transported_.") (See Habeas Corpus act, Sect. 14.) and therefore there cannot be any "_due process of the law_" tending to so base a purpose. It follows therefore, that every man, who presumes to detain _any person_ whatsoever as a slave, otherwise than by virtue of a written contract, acts manifestly without "_due process of the law_," and consequently is liable to the slave's "_action of false imprisonment_," because "_every man may be free to sue_," &c. so that the slave-holder cannot avail himself of his imaginary _property_, either by the assistance of the common law, or of a court of equity, (_except it appears that the said slave has voluntarily bound himself, without compulsion or illegal duress_) for in both his suit will certainly appear both unjust and indefensible. The former cannot assist him, because the statute law at present is so far from supposing any man in a state of slavery, that it cannot even permit such a state, except in the two cases mentioned in the 13th and 14th Section of the Habeas Corpus act; and the courts of equity likewise must necessarily decide against him, because his mere mercenary plea of _private property_ cannot equitably, in a case between _man and man_, stand in competition with that _superior property_ which every man must necessarily be allowed to have in his own _proper person_. How then is the slave-holder to secure what he esteems his _property?_ Perhaps he will endeavour clandestinely to seize the supposed slave, in order to transport him (with or without _his consent_) to the colonies, where such property is allowed: but let him take care what he does, the very attempt is punishable; and even the making over his property to another for that purpose, renders him equally liable to the severe penalties of the law, for a bill of sale may certainly be included under the terms expressed in the Habeas Corpus act, 12th Sect. viz. "_Any warrant or writing for such commitment, detainer, imprisonment, or transportation," &c._ It is also dangerous for a counsellor, or any other person _to advise_ (see the act "shall be advising") such proceedings, by saying, "_That a master may legally compel him_ (the slave) _to return again to the plantations_." Likewise an attorney, notary-public, or any other person, who shall presume to draw up, negotiate, of even to witness a bill of sale, or other instrument for such commitment, &c. offends equally against the law, because "_All, or any person or persons, that shall frame, contrive, write, seal, or countersign any warrant or writing for such commitment, detainer, imprisonment, or transportation; or shall be advising, aiding, or assisting in the same, or any of them_," are liable to all the penalties of the act. "_And the plaintiff, in every such action, shall have judgment to recover his treble costs, besides damages; which damages so to be given shall not be less than five hundred pounds_;" so that the injured may have ample satisfaction for their sufferings: and even a judge may not direct or instruct a jury contrary to this statute, whatever his private opinion may be concerning property in slaves; because _no order or command, nor no injunction_, is allowed to interfere with this _golden act of liberty_. --I have before observed, that the general term, "_every alien_," includes _all strangers whatsoever_, and renders them _subject_ to the King, and the laws, during their residence in this kingdom; and this is certainly true, whether the aliens be Turks, Moors, Arabians, Tartars, or even savages, from any part of the world.--Men are rendered obnoxious to the laws by their offences, and not by the particular denomination of their rank, order, parentage, colour, or country; and therefore, though we should suppose that any particular body of people whatsoever were not known, or had in consideration by the legislature at the different times when the severe penal laws were made, yet no man can reasonably conceive, that such men are exempted on this account from the penalties of the said laws, when legally convicted of having offended against them. Laws calculated for the moral purpose of preventing oppression, are likewise usually supposed to be everlasting, and to make up a part of our happy constitution; for which reason, though the kind of oppression to be guarded against, and the penalties for offenders, are minutely described therein, yet the persons to be protected are comprehended in terms as general as possible; that "_no person who now is, or hereafter shall be, an inhabitant or resiant in this kingdom_," (see Habeas Corpus act, Sect. 12th) may seem to be excluded from protection. The general terms of the several statutes before cited, are so full and clear, that they admit of no exception whatsoever; for all persons (Negroes as well as others) must be included in the terms "the subject;"--"_no subject of this realm that now is, or hereafter shall be, an inhabitant, &c. any subject; every such person_;" see Habeas Corpus act. Also _every man_ may be _free_ to sue, &c. 20th Edward III. cap. 4. and _no man, of what estate or condition that he be_, shall be taken or imprisoned, &c. True justice makes no respect of persons, and can never deny, to any one that blessing to which all mankind have an undoubted right, their _natural liberty_: though the law makes no mention of Negroe slaves, yet this is no just argument for excluding them from the general protection of our happy constitution. Neither can the objection, that Negroe slaves were not "had in consideration or contemplation," when these laws were made, prove any thing against them; but, on the contrary, much in their favour; for both these circumstances are strong presumptive proofs, that the practice of importing slaves into this kingdom, and retaining them as such, is an innovation entirely foreign to the spirit and intention of the laws now in force. --Page 79. A toleration of slavery is, in effect, a toleration of inhumanity; for there are wretches in the world who make no scruple to gain, by wearing out their slaves with continual labour, and a scanty allowance, before they have lived out half their natural days. It is notorious, that this is too often the case in the unhappy countries where slavery is tolerated. See the account of the European settlements in America, Part VI. Chap. 11. concerning the "_misery of the Negroes, great waste of them_," &c. which informs us not only of a most scandalous profanation of the Lord's day, but also of another abomination, which must be infinitely more heinous in the sight of God, viz. oppression carried to such excess, as to be even destructive of the human species. At present, the inhumanity of constrained labour in excess, extends no farther in England than to our beasts, as post and hackney-horses, sand-asses, &c. But thanks to our laws, and not to the general good disposition of masters, that it is so; for the wretch who is bad enough to maltreat a helpless beast, would not spare his fellow man if he had him as much in his power. The maintenance of civil liberty is therefore absolutely necessary to prevent an increase of our national guilt, by the addition of the horrid crime of tyranny.--Notwithstanding that the plea of necessity cannot here be urged, yet this is no reason why an increase of the practice is not to be feared. Our North American colonies afford us a melancholy instance to the contrary; for though the climate in general is so wholesome and temperate, that it will not authorise this plea of necessity for the employment of slaves, any more than our own, yet the pernicious practice of slave-holding is become almost general in those parts. At New-York, for instance, the infringement on civil or domestic liberty is become notorious, notwithstanding the political controversies of the inhabitants in praise of liberty; but no panegyric on this subject (howsoever elegant in itself) can be graceful or edifying from the mouth or pen of one of those provincials, because men who do not scruple to detain others in slavery, have but a very partial and unjust claim to the protection of the laws of liberty; and indeed it too plainly appears that they have no real regard for liberty, farther than their own private interests are concerned; and (consequently) that they have so little detestation of despotism and tyranny, that they do not scruple to exercise them whenever their caprice excites them, or their private interest seems to require an exertion of their power over their miserable slaves. Every petty planter, who avails himself of the service of slaves, is an arbitrary monarch, or rather a lawless Bashaw in his own territories, notwithstanding that the imaginary freedom of the province wherein he resides, may seem to forbid the observation. The boasted liberty of our American colonies, therefore, has so little right to that sacred name, that it seems to differ from the arbitrary power of despotic monarchs only in one circumstance, viz. that it is a _many-headed monster of tyranny_, which entirely subverts our most excellent constitution; because liberty and slavery are so opposite to each other, that they cannot subsist in the same community. "_Political liberty (in mild or well regulated governments) makes civil liberty valuable; and whosoever is deprived of the latter, is deprived also of the former_." This observation of the learned Montesquieu, I hope sufficiently justifies my censure of the Americans for their notorious violation of civil liberty;--The New-York Journal, or, The General Advertiser, for Thursday, 22d October, 1767, gives notice by advertisement, of no less than eight different persons who have escaped from slavery, or are put up to public sale for that horrid purpose. That I may demonstrate the indecency of such proceedings in a free country, I shall take the liberty of laying some of these advertisements before my readers, by way of example. "_To be SOLD for want of Employment_, A likely strong active Negroe man, of about 24 years of age, this country born, (_N.B._ A natural born subject) understands most of a baker's trade, and a good deal of farming business, and can do all sorts of house-work.--Also a healthy Negroe wench, of about 21 years old, is a tolerable cook, and capable of doing all sorts of house-work, can be well recommended for her honesty and sobriety: she has a female child of nigh three years old, which will be sold with the wench if required, &c." Here is not the least consideration, or scruple of conscience, for the inhumanity of parting the mother and young child. From the stile, one would suppose the advertisement to be of no more importance than if it related merely to the sale of a cow and her calf; and that the cow should be sold with or without her calf, according as the purchaser should require.--But not only Negroes, but even American Indians, are detained in the same abominable slavery in our colonies, though there cannot be any reasonable pretence whatsoever for holding one of these as private property; for even if a written contract should be produced as a voucher in such a case, there would still remain great suspicion, that some undue advantage had been taken of the Indian's ignorance concerning the nature of such a bond. "_Run away, on Monday the 21st instant, from J----n T----, Esq. of West-Chester county, in the province of New-York_, An Indian slave, named Abraham, he may have changed his name, about 23 years of age, about five feet five inches." Upon the whole, I think I may with justice conclude, that those advertisements discover a shameless prostitution and infringement on the common and natural rights of mankind--But hold! perhaps the Americans may be able, with too much justice, to retort this severe reflexion, and may refer us to news-papers published even in the free city of London, which contain advertisements not less dishonourable than their own. See advertisement in the Public Ledger of 31st December, 1761. "_For SALE, A healthy NEGROE GIRL_, aged about fifteen years; speaks good English, works at her needle, washes well, does houshold work, and has had the small-pox. By J.W. &c." Another advertisement, not long ago, offered a reward for stopping a female slave who had left her mistress in Hatton-garden. And in the Gazetteer of 18th April, 1769, appeared a very extraordinary advertisement with the following title; "_Horses, Tim Wisky, and black Boy_, To be sold at the Bull and Gate Inn. Holborn, _A very good Tim Wisky_, little the worse for wear, &c." Afterwards, "_A Chesnut Gelding_;" then, "_A very good grey Mare_;" and last of all, (as if of the least consequence) "_A well-made good-tempered black Boy_, he has lately had the small-pox, and will be sold to any gentleman. Enquire as above." Another advertisement in the same paper, contains a very particular description of a Negroe man, called _Jeremiah_,--and concludes as follows:--"Whoever delivers him to Capt. M---- U----y, on board the Elizabeth, at Prince's Stairs, Rotherhithe, on or before the 31st instant, shall receive thirty guineas reward, or ten guineas for such intelligence as shall enable the Captain, or his master, effectually to secure him. The utmost secrecy may be depended on." It is not on account of shame, that men, who are capable of undertaking the desperate and wicked employment of kidnappers, are supposed to be tempted to such a business, by a promise "_of the utmost secrecy_;" but this must be from a sense of the unlawfulness of the act proposed to them, that they may have less reason to fear a prosecution. And as such a kind of people are supposed to undertake any thing for money, the reward of thirty guineas was tendered at the top of the advertisement, in capital letters. No man can be safe, be he white or black, if temptations to break the laws are so shamefully published in our news-papers. _A Creole Black boy_ is also offered to sale, in the Daily Advertiser of the same date. Besides these instances, the Americans may, perhaps, taunt us with the shameful treatment of a poor Negroe servant, who not long ago was put up to sale by public auction, together with the effects of his bankrupt master.--Also, that the prisons of this free city have been frequently prostituted of late, by the tyrannical and dangerous practice of confining Negroes, under the pretence of slavery, though there have been no warrants whatsoever for their commitment. This circumstance of confining a man without a warrant, has so great a resemblance to the proceedings of a Popish inquisition, that it is but too obvious what dangerous practices such scandalous innovations, if permitted to grow more into use, are liable to introduce. No person can be safe, if wicked and designing men have it in their power, under the pretence of private property as a slave, to throw a man clandestinely, without a warrant, into goal, and to conceal him there, until they can conveniently dispose of him. A free man may be thus robbed of his liberty, and carried beyond the seas, without having the least opportunity of making his case known; which should teach us how jealous we ought to be of all imprisonments made without the authority, or previous examination, of a civil magistrate. The distinction of colour will, in a short time, be no protection against such outrages, especially as not only Negroes, but Mulatoes, and even American Indians, (which appears by one of the advertisements before quoted) are retained in slavery in our American colonies; for there are many honest weather-beaten Englishmen, who have as little reason to boast of their complexion as the Indians. And indeed, the more northern Indians have no difference from us in complexion, but such as is occasioned by the climate, or different way of living. The plea of private property, therefore, cannot, by any means, justify a private commitment of any person whatsoever to prison, because of the apparent danger and tendency of such innovation. This dangerous practice of concealing in prison was attempted in the case of Jonathan Strong; for the door-keeper of the P----lt----y C----pt----r (or some person who acted for him) absolutely refused, for two days, to permit this poor injured Negro to be seen or spoke with, though a person went on purpose, both those days, to demand the same.--All laws ought to be founded upon the principle of "_doing as one would be done by_;" and indeed this principle seems to be the very basis of the English constitution; for what precaution could possibly be more effectual for that purpose, than the right we enjoy of being judged by our Peers, creditable persons of the vicinage; especially, as we may likewise claim the right of excepting against any particular juryman, who might be suspected of partiality. This law breathes the pure spirit of liberty, equity, and social love; being calculated to maintain that consideration and mutual regard which one person ought to have for another, howsoever unequal in rank or station. But when any part of the community, under the pretence of private property, is deprived of this common privilege, it is a violation of civil liberty, which is entirely inconsistent with the social principles of a free state. True liberty protects the labourer as well as his Lord; preserves the dignity of human nature, and seldom fails to render a province rich and populous; whereas, on the other hand, a toleration of slavery is the highest breach of social virtue, and not only tends to depopulation, but too often renders the minds of both masters and slaves utterly depraved and inhuman, by the hateful extremes of exaltation and depression. If such a toleration should ever be generally admitted in England, (which God forbid) we shall no longer deserve to be esteemed a civilized people; because, when the customs of uncivilized nations, and the _uncivilized customs which disgrace our own colonies_, are become so familiar as to be permitted amongst us with impunity, we ourselves must insensibly degenerate to the same degree of baseness with those from whom such bad customs were derived; and may, too soon, have the mortification to see the _hateful extremes of tyranny and slavery fostered under every roof_. Then must the happy medium of a well regulated liberty be necessarily compelled to find shelter in some more civilized country: where social virtue, and that divine precept, "_Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself_," are better understood. An attempt to prove the dangerous tendency, injustice, and disgrace of tolerating slavery amongst Englishmen, would, in any former age, have been esteemed as superfluous and ridiculous, as if a man should undertake, in a formal manner, to prove, that darkness is not light. Sorry am I, that the depravity of the present age has made a demonstration of this kind necessary. Now, that I may sum up the amount of what has been said in a single sentence, I shall beg leave to conclude in the words of the great Sir Edward Coke, which, though spoken on a different occasion, are yet applicable to this; see Rushworth's Hist. Col. An. 1628. 4 Caroli. fol. 450. "It would be no honour to a King or kingdom, to be a King of bondmen or slaves: the end of this would be both _dedecus_[A] and _damnum_[B] both to King and kingdom, that in former times have been so renowned." [Footnote A: Disgrace.] [Footnote B: Loss.] * * * * * Note, at page 63; According to the laws of Jamaica, printed in London, in 1756, "If any slave having been one whole year in this island, (says an act, No 64, clause 5, p. 114) shall run away, and continue absent from his owner's service for the space of thirty days, upon complaint and proof, &c. before any two justices of the peace, and three freeholders, &c. it shall and may be lawful for such justices and freeholders to order such slave to be punished, by _cutting off one of the feet of such slave_, or inflict such other corporal punishment as they _shall think fit_." Now that I may inform my readers, what corporal punishments are sometimes thought fit to be inflicted, I will refer to the testimony of Sir Hans Sloane, (see voyage to the islands of Madeira, Barbadoes, &c. and Jamaica, with the natural history of the last of these islands, &c. London 1707. Introduction, p. 56, and 57.) "The punishment for crimes of slaves (says he) are usually, for _rebellions_, burning them, by nailing them down to the ground with crooked sticks on every limb, and then applying the fire, by degrees, from the feet and hands, and burning them gradually up to the head, whereby _the pains are extravagant_; for crimes of a lesser nature, _gelding_, or _chopping off half the foot_ with an axe. These punishments are suffered by them with great constancy.--For negligence, they are usually whipped by the overseers with lance-wood switches, till they be bloody, and several of the switches broken, being first tied up by their hands in the mill houses.--After they are whipped till they are raw, some put on their skins pepper and salt, to make them smart; at other times, their masters will drop melted wax on their skins, and use several _very exquisite torments_." Sir Hans adds, "These punishments are sometimes merited by the Blacks, who are a very perverse generation of people; and though they appear very harsh, yet are scarce equal to some of their crimes, and inferior to what punishments other European nations inflict on their slaves in the East-Indies, as may be seen by Moquet, and other travellers." Thus Sir Hans Sloane endeavours to excuse those shocking cruelties, but certainly in vain, because no crimes whatsoever can merit such severe punishments, unless I except the crimes of those who devise and inflict them. Sir Hans Sloane, indeed, mentions _rebellion_ as the principal crime; and certainly it is very justly esteemed a most heinous crime, in a land of liberty, where government is limited by equitable and just laws, if the same are tolerably well observed; but in countries where arbitrary power is exercised with such intolerable cruelty as is before described, if resistance be a crime, it is certainly the most natural of all others. But the 19th clause of the 38th act, would indeed, on a slight perusal, induce us to conceive, that the punishment for rebellion is not so severe as it is represented by Sir Hans Sloane; because a slave, though _deemed rebellious_, is thereby condemned to no greater punishment than transportation. Nevertheless, if the clause be thoroughly considered, we shall find no reason to commend the mercy of the legislature; for it only proves, that the Jamaica law-makers will not scruple to charge the slightest and most natural offences with the most opprobrious epithets; and that a poor slave, who perhaps has no otherwise incurred his master's displeasure than by endeavouring (upon the just and warrantable principles of self-preservation,) to escape from his master's tyranny, without any criminal intention whatsoever, is liable to be _deemed rebellious_, and to be arraigned as a capital offender. "For every slave and slaves that shall run away, and continue but for the space of twelve months, except such slave or slaves as shall not have been three years in this island, shall be _deemed rebellious_," &c. (see act 38, clause 19. p. 60.) Thus we are enabled to define what a West Indian tyrant means by the word _rebellious_. But unjust as this clause may seem, yet it is abundantly more merciful and considerate than a subsequent act against the same poor miserable people, because the former assigns no other punishment for persons so _deemed rebellious_, than that they, "_Shall be transported_ by order of two justices and three freeholders," &c. whereas the latter spares not the blood of these poor injured fugitives: For by the 66th act, a reward of 50 pounds is offered to those who "shall kill or bring in alive any _rebellious slaves_," that is, any of these unfortunate people whom the law has "_deemed rebellious_," as above; and this premium is not only tendered to commissioned parties (see 2d. clause) but even to any private "_hunter, slave, or other person_," (see 3d. clause.) Thus it is manifest, that the law treats these poor unhappy men with as little ceremony and consideration as if they were merely wild beasts. But the innocent blood that is shed in consequence of such a detestable law, must certainly call for vengeance on the murderous abettors and actors of such deliberate wickedness: And though many of the guilty wretches should even be so hardened and abandoned as never afterwards to be capable of sincere remorse, yet a time will undoubtedly come, when they will shudder with dreadful apprehensions, on account of the insufficiency of so wretched an excuse, as that their poor murdered brethren were by law "_deemed rebellious_" But bad as these laws are, yet in justice to the freeholders of Jamaica, I must acknowledge, that their laws are not near so cruel and inhuman as the laws of Barbadoes and Virginia, and seem at present to be much more reasonable than they have formerly been; many very oppressive laws being now expired, and others less severe enacted in their room. But it is far otherwise in Barbadoes; for by the 329th act, p. 125. "If any Negro or other slave, under punishment by his master, or his order, for running away, or any other crimes or misdemeanors towards his said master, unfortunately shall suffer in life, or member, (which seldom happens) (but it is plain by this law that it does sometimes happen) _no person whatever shall be liable to any fine therefore; but if any man shall, of wantonness or only of bloody-mindedness, or cruel intention, wilfully kill a Negroe or other slave of his own_;"--now the reader, to be sure, will naturally expect, that some very severe punishment must in this case be ordained, to deter the _wanton, bloody-minded, and cruel_ wretch, from _wilfully killing_ his fellow creatures; but alas! the Barbadian law-makers have been so far from intending to curb such abandoned wickedness, that they have absolutely made this law on purpose to skreen these enormous crimes from the just indignation of any righteous person, who might think himself bound in duty to prosecute a bloody-minded villain; they have therefore presumptuously taken upon them to give a sanction, as it were, by law, to the horrid crime of wilful murder; and have accordingly ordained, that he who is guilty of it in Barbadoes, though the act should be attended with all the aggravating circumstances before-mentioned--"_shall pay into the public treasury_ (no more than) _fifteen pounds sterling_," but if he shall kill another man's, he shall pay the owner of the Negroe double the value, and into the public treasury _twenty-five pounds sterling_; and he shall further, by the next justice of the peace, be bound to his good behaviour during the pleasure of the governor and council, _and not be liable to any other punishment or forfeiture for the same_. The most consummate wickedness, I suppose, that any body of people, under the specious form of a legislature, were ever guilty of! This act contains several other clauses which are shocking to humanity, though too tedious to mention here. According to an act of Virginia, (4 Anne, ch. 49. sec. 37. p. 227.) "after proclamation is issued against slaves that run away and lie out, it is lawful for any person whatsoever, _to kill and destroy such slaves, by such ways and means as he, she, or they, shall think fit_, without accusation or impeachment of any crime for the same," &c. And lest private interest should incline the planter to mercy, (to which we must suppose such people can have no other inducement) it is provided and enacted in the succeeding clause, (No 28.) "That for _every slave killed_, in pursuance of this act, or _put to death by law_, the master or owner of such slave _shall be paid by the public_." Also by an act of Virginia, (9 Geo. I. ch. 4. sect. 18. p. 343.) it is ordained, "That, where any slave shall hereafter be found notoriously guilty of going abroad in the night, or running away, and lying out, and cannot be reclaimed from _such_ disorderly courses by the common method of punishment, it shall and may be lawful to and for the court of the county, upon complaint and proof thereof to them made by the owner of such slave, to order and direct every such slave to be punished by _dismembering, or any other_ way, not touching life, as the said county court _shall think fit_." I have already given examples enough of the horrid cruelties which are sometimes _thought fit_ on such occasions. But if the innocent and most natural act of "_running away_" from intolerable tyranny, deserves such relentless severity, what kind of punishment have these law-makers themselves to expect hereafter, on account of their own enormous offences! Alas! to look for mercy (without a timely repentance) will only be another instance of their gross injustice! "_Having their consciences seared with a hot iron_," they seem to have lost all apprehensions that their slaves are men, for they scruple not to number them with beasts. See an act of Barbadoes, (No 333. p. 128.) intituled, "An act for the better regulating of _outcries_ in open market:" here we read of "_Negroes, cattle, coppers, and stills, and other chattels_, brought by execution to open market to be outcried, and these (as if all of equal importance) are ranged together _in great lots or numbers to be sold_." --Page 70. In the 329th act of Barbadoes, (p. 122.) it is asserted, that "brutish slaves deserve not, for the baseness of their condition, to _be tried by a legal trial of twelve men of their peers, or neighbourhood_, which neither truly can be rightly done, as the subjects of England are;" (yet slaves also are subjects of England, whilst they remain within the British dominions, notwithstanding this insinuation to the contrary) "nor is execution to be delayed towards them, in case of such horrid crimes committed," &c. A similar doctrine is taught in an act of Virginia, (9 Geo. I. ch. 4. sect. 3. p. 339.) wherein it is ordained, "that every slave, committing such offence as by the laws ought to be punished by death, or loss of member, shall be forthwith committed to the common goal of the county, &c. And the sheriff of such county, upon such commitment, shall forthwith certify the same, with the cause thereof, to the governor or commander in chief, &c. who is thereupon desired and impowered to issue a commission of Oyer and Terminer, _To such persons as he shall think fit_; which persons, forthwith after the receipt of such commission, are impowered and required to cause the offender to be publicly arraigned and tried, &c. without the solemnity of a jury," &c. Now let us consider the dangerous tendency of those laws. As Englishmen, we strenuously contend for this absolute and immutable necessity of trials by juries: but is not the spirit and equity of this old English doctrine entirely lost, if we partially confine that justice to ourselves alone, when we have it in our power to extend it to others? The natural right of all mankind, must principally justify our insisting upon this necessary privilege in favour of ourselves in particular; and therefore if we do not allow that the judgment of an impartial jury is indispensably necessary in all cases whatsoever, wherein the life of man is depending, we certainly undermine the equitable force and reason of those laws, by which _we ourselves are protected_, and consequently are unworthy to be esteemed either Christians or Englishmen. Whatever right the members of a provincial assembly may have to enact _bye laws_, for particular exigences among themselves, yet in so doing they are certainly bound, in duty to their sovereign, to observe most strictly the fundamental principles of that constitution, which his Majesty is sworn to maintain; for wheresoever the bounds of the British empire are extended, there the common law of England must of course take place, and cannot be safely set aside by any _private law_ whatsoever, because the introduction of an unnatural tyranny must necessarily endanger the King's dominions. The many alarming insurrections of slaves in the several colonies, are sufficient proofs of this. The common law of England ought therefore to be so established in every province, as to include the respective _bye laws_ of each province; instead of being by them _excluded_, which latter has been too much the case. Every inhabitant of the British colonies, black as well as white, bond as well as free, are undoubtedly the _King's subjects_, during their residence within the limits of the King's dominions; and as such, are entitled to personal protection, however bound in service to their respective masters; therefore, when any of these are put to death, "_without the solemnity of a jury_," I fear that there is too much reason to attribute _the guilt of murder_ to every person concerned in ordering, the same, or in consenting thereto; and all such persons are certainly responsible _to the King and his laws, for the loss of a subject_. The horrid iniquity, injustice, and dangerous tendency of the several plantation laws which I have quoted, are so apparent, that it is unnecessary for me to apologize for the freedom with which I have treated them. If such laws are not absolutely necessary for the government of slaves, the law-makers must unavoidably allow themselves to be the most cruel and abandoned tyrants upon earth; or, perhaps, that ever were on earth. On the other hand, if it be said, that it is impossible to govern slaves without such inhuman severity, and detestable injustice, the same will certainly be an invincible argument against the least toleration of slavery amongst christians, because the temporal profit of the planter or master, however lucrative, cannot compensate the forfeiture of his everlasting welfare, or (at least I may be allowed to say) the apparent danger of such a forfeiture. Oppression is a most grievous crime, and the cries of these much injured people, (though they are only poor ignorant heathens) will certainly reach heaven! The scriptures (_which are the only true foundation of all laws_) denounce a tremendous judgment against the man who should offend even one little-one; _"It were better for him_ (even the merciful Saviour of the world hath himself declared) _that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and be cast into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones."_ Luke xvii. 2. Who then shall attempt to vindicate those inhuman establishments of government, under which, even our own countrymen so grievously _offend_ and _oppress_ (not merely _one_, or a few little ones, but) an immense multitude of _men, women, children_, and the _children of their children_, from generation to generation? May it not be said with like justice, it were better for the English nation that these American dominions had never existed, or even that they should have been sunk into the sea, than that the kingdom of Great Britain should be loaded with the horrid guilt of tolerating such abominable wickedness! In short, if the _King's prerogative_ is not speedily exerted for the relief of his Majesty's oppressed and much injured subjects in the British colonies, (because to _relieve the subject_ from the oppression of petty tyrants is the principal use of the royal prerogative, as well as the principal and most natural means of maintaining the same) and for the extension of the British constitution to the most distant colonies, whether in the East or West Indies, it must inevitably be allowed, that great share of this enormous guilt will certainly rest on this side the water. I hope this hint will be taken notice of by those whom it may concern; and that the freedom of it will be excused, as from a _loyal and disinterested_ adviser. Extracts from the writings of several _noted authors_, on the subject of the, _slavery of the Negroes_, viz. George Wallace, Francis Hutcheson, James Foster. George Wallace, in his _System of the Principles of the Laws of Scotland_, speaking of the slavery of the Negroes in our colonies, says, "We all know that they (the Negroes) are purchased from their Princes, who pretend to have a right to dispose of them, and that they are, like other commodities, transported, by the merchants who have bought them, into America, in order to be exposed to sale. If this trade admits of a moral or a rational justification, every crime, even the most atrocious, may be justified. Government was instituted for the good of mankind; kings, princes, governors, are not proprietors of those who are subject to their authority; they have not a right to make them miserable. On the contrary, their authority is vested in them, that they may, by the just exercise of it, promote the happiness of their people. Of course, they have not a right to dispose of their liberty, and to sell them for slaves. Besides no man has a right to acquire, or to purchase them; men and their liberty are not _in commercio_; they are not either saleable or purchaseable. One, therefore, has no body but himself to blame, in case he shall find himself deprived of a man, whom he thought he had, by buying for a price, made his own; for he dealt in a trade which was illicit, and was prohibited by the most obvious dictates of humanity. For these reasons, every one of those unfortunate men who are pretended to be slaves, has a right to be declared to be free, for he never lost his liberty; he could not lose it; his Prince had no power to dispose of him. Of course, the sale was _ipso jure_ void. This right he carries about with him, and is entitled every where to get it declared. As soon, therefore, as he comes into a country in which the judges are not forgetful of their own humanity, it is their duty to remember that he is a man, and to declare him to be free. I know it has been said, that questions concerning the state of persons ought to be determined by the law of the country to which they belong; and that, therefore, one who would be declared to be a slave in America, ought, in case he should happen to be imported into Britain, to be adjudged, according to the law of America, to be a slave; a doctrine than which nothing can be more barbarous. Ought the judges of any country, out of respect to the law of another, to shew no respect to their kind, and to humanity? out of respect to a law, which is in no sort obligatory upon them, ought they to disregard the law of nature, which is obligatory on all men, at all times, and in all places? Are any laws so binding as the eternal laws of justice? Is it doubtful, whether a judge ought to pay greater regard to them, than to those arbitrary and inhuman usages which prevail in a distant land? Aye, but our colonies would be ruined if slavery was abolished. Be it so; would it not from thence follow, that the bulk of mankind ought to be abused, that our pockets may be filled with money, or our mouths with delicacies? The purses of highwaymen would be empty, in case robberies were totally abolished; but have men a right to acquire money by going out to the highway? Have men a right to acquire it by rendering their fellow-creatures miserable? Is it lawful to abuse mankind, that the avarice, the vanity, or the passions of a few may be gratified? No! There is such a thing as justice to which the most sacred regard is due. It ought to be inviolably observed. Have not these unhappy men a better right to their liberty, and to their happiness, than our American merchants have to the profits which they make by torturing their kind? Let, therefore, our colonies be ruined, but let us not render so many men miserable. Would not any of us, who should--be snatched by pirates from his native land, think himself cruelly abused, and at all times entitled to be free? Have not these unfortunate Africans, who meet with the same cruel fate, the same right? Are they not men as well as we, and have they not the same sensibility? Let us not, therefore, defend or support a usage which is contrary to all the laws of humanity. "But it is false, that either we or our colonies would be ruined by the abolition of slavery. It might occasion a stagnation of business for a short time. Every great alteration produces that effect; because mankind cannot, on a sudden, find ways of disposing of themselves, and of their affairs; but it would produce many happy effects. It is the slavery which is permitted in America, that has hindered it from becoming so soon populous as it would otherwise have done. Let the Negroes be free, and, in a few generations, this vast and fertile continent would be crowded with inhabitants; learning, arts, and every thing would flourish amongst them; instead of being inhabited by wild beasts, and by savages, it would be peopled by philosophers, and by men." Francis Hutcheson, professor of philosophy at the university of Glasgow, in his _System of Moral Philosophy_, page 211, says "He who detains another by force in slavery, is always bound to prove his title. The slave sold, or carried into a distant country, must not be obliged to prove a negative, that _he never forfeited his liberty_. The violent possessor must, in all cases, shew his title, especially where the old proprietor is well known. In this case, each man is the original proprietor of his own liberty. The proof of his losing it must be incumbent on those who deprive him of it by force. The Jewish laws had great regard to justice, about the servitude of Hebrews, founding it only on consent, or some crime or damage, allowing them always a proper redress upon any cruel treatment, and fixing a limited time for it; unless upon trial the servant inclined to prolong it. The laws about foreign slaves had many merciful provisions against immoderate severity of the masters. But under christianity, whatever lenity was due from an Hebrew towards his countryman, must be due towards all; since the distinctions of nations are removed, as to the point of humanity and mercy, as well as natural right; nay, some of these rights granted over foreign slaves, may justly be deemed only such indulgences as those of poligamy and divorce, granting only external impunity in such practice, and not sufficient vindication of them in conscience." _Page_ 85. It is pleaded, that "In some barbarous nations, unless the captives were bought for slaves, they would be all murthered. They, therefore, owe their lives, and all they can do, to their purchasers; and so do their children, who would not otherwise have come into life." But this whole plea is no more than that of _negotium utile gestum_ to which any civilized nation is bound by humanity; it is a prudent expensive office, done for the service of others without a gratuitous intention; and this founds no other right, than that to full compensation of all charges and labour employed for the benefit of others. A set of inaccurate popular phrases blind us in these matters; "Captives owe their lives, and all to the purchasers, say they. Just in the same manner, we, our nobles, and princes, often owe our lives to midwives, chirurgeons, physicians," &c. one who was the means of preserving a man's life, is not therefore entitled to make him a slave, and sell him as a piece of goods. Strange, that in a nation where the sense of liberty prevails, where the christian religion is professed, custom and high prospects of gain can so stupify the conscience of men, and all sense of natural justice, that they can hear such computations made about the value of their fellow-men, and their liberty, without abhorrence and indignation. _James Foster_, D.D. in his _discourses on natural religion_ and _social virtue_ also shews his just indignation at this wicked practice; which he declares to be "_a criminal and outrageous violation of the natural right of mankind_." At _page_ 156, vol. 2 he says, "Should we have read concerning the Greeks or Romans of old, that they traded with a view to make slaves of their own species, when they certainly knew that this would involve in schemes of blood and murder, of destroying, or enslaving each other; that they even fomented wars, and engaged whole nations and tribes in open hostilities, for their own private advantage; that they had no detestation of the violence and cruelty, but only feared the ill success of their inhuman enterprises; that they carried men like themselves, their brethren, and the off-spring of the same common parent, to be sold like beasts of prey, or beasts of burden, and put them to the same reproachful trial, of their soundness, strength, and capacity for greater bodily service; that quite forgetting and renouncing the original dignity of human nature, communicated to all, they treated them with more severity, and ruder discipline, than even the _ox_ or the _ass_, who are _void of understanding_--should we not, if this had been the case, have naturally been led to despise all their _pretended refinements of morality_; and to have concluded, that as they were not nations destitute of politeness, they must have been _entire strangers to virtue and benevolence_? "But notwithstanding this, we ourselves (who profess to be christians, and boast of the peculiar advantage we enjoy, by means of an express revelation of our duty from heaven) are, in effect, these very untaught and rude heathen countries. With all our superior light, we instill into those, whom we call savage and barbarous, the most despicable opinion of human nature. We, to the utmost of our power, weaken and dissolve the universal tie, that binds and unites mankind. We practise what we should exclaim against, as the utmost excess of cruelty and tyranny, if nations of the world, differing in colour, and form of government, from ourselves, were so possessed of empire, as to be able to reduce us to a state of unmerited and brutish servitude. Of consequence, we sacrifice our reason, our humanity, our christianity, to an unnatural sordid gain. We teach other nations to despise, and trample under foot, all the obligations of social virtue. We take the most effectual method to prevent the propagation of the gospel, by representing it as a scheme of power and barbarous oppression, and an enemy to the natural privileges and rights of men. "Perhaps all that I have now offered, may be of very little weight to restrain this enormity, this aggravated iniquity; however, I still have the satisfaction of having entered my private protest against a practice, which, in my opinion, bids that God, who is the God and Father of the Gentiles, unconverted to christianity, most daring and bold defiance, and spurns at all the principles both of natural and revealed religion." EXTRACT From an ADDRESS in the VIRGINIA _GAZETTE_, of MARCH 19, 1767. Mr. RIND, Permit me, in your paper, to address the members of our assembly on two points, in which the public interest is very nearly concerned. The abolition of slavery, and the retrieval of specie in this colony, are the subjects on which I would bespeak their attention.-- Long and serious reflections upon the nature and consequences of slavery have convinced me, that it is a violation both of justice and religion; that it is dangerous to the safety of the community in which it prevails; that it is destructive to the growth of arts and sciences; and lastly, that it produces a numerous and very fatal train of vices, both in the slave and in his master. To prove these assertions, shall be the purpose of the following essay. That slavery then is a violation of justice, will plainly appear, when we consider what justice is. It is truly and simply defined, as by _Justinian, constans et perpetua voluntas ejus suum cuique tribuendi_; a constant endeavour to give every man his right. Now, as freedom is unquestionably the birth-right of all mankind, _Africans_ as well as _Europeans_, to keep the former in a state of slavery, is a constant violation of that right, and therefore of justice. The ground on which the civilians who favour slavery, admit it to be just, namely, consent, force, and birth, is totally disputable; for surely a man's own will and consent cannot be allowed to introduce so important an innovation into society, as slavery, or to make himself an outlaw, which is really the state of a slave; since neither consenting to, nor aiding the laws of the society in which he lives, he is neither bound to obey them, nor entitled to their protection. To found any right in force, is to frustrate all right, and involve every thing in confusion, violence, and rapine. With these two, the last must fall; since, if the parent cannot justly be made a slave, neither can the child be born in slavery. "The law of nations, says Baron _Montesquieu_, has doomed prisoners to slavery, to prevent their being slain; the _Roman_ civil law permitted debtors, whom their creditors might treat ill, to sell themselves. And the law of nature requires that children, whom their parents, being slaves, cannot maintain, should be slaves like them. These reasons of the civilians are not just; it is not true that a captive may be slain, unless in a case of absolute necessity; but if he hath been reduced to slavery, it is plain that no such necessity existed, since he was not slain. It is not true that a free man can sell himself, for sale supposes a price; but a slave and his property becomes immediately that of his master; the slave can therefore receive no price, nor the master pay, &c. And if a man cannot sell himself, nor a prisoner of war be reduced to slavery, much less can his child." Such are the sentiments of this illustrious civilian; his reasonings, which I have been obliged to contract, the reader interested in this subject will do well to consult at large. Yet even these rights of imposing slavery, questionable, nay, refutable as they are, we have not to authorise the bondage of the _Africans_. For neither do they consent to be our slaves, nor do we purchase them of their conquerors. The _British_ merchants obtain them from _Africa_ by violence, artifice, and treachery, with a few trinkets to prompt those unfortunate people to enslave one another by force or stratagem. Purchase them indeed they may, under the authority of an act of the British parliament. An act entailing upon the _Africans_, with whom we are not at war, and over whom a British parliament could not of right assume even a shadow of authority, the dreadful curse of perpetual slavery, upon them and their children for ever. _There cannot be in nature, there is not in all history, an instance in which every right of men is more flagrantly violated._ The laws of the antients never authorised the making slaves, but of those nations whom they had conquered; yet they were heathens, and we are christians. They were misled by a monstrous religion, divested of humanity, by a horrible and barbarous worship; we are directed by the unerring precepts of the revealed religion we possess, enlightened by its wisdom, and humanized by its benevolence; before them, were gods deformed with passions, and horrible for every cruelty and vice; before us, is that incomparable pattern of meekness, charity, love and justice to mankind, which so transcendently distinguished the Founder of christianity, and his ever amiable doctrines. Reader, remember that the corner stone of your religion, is to do unto others as you would they should do unto you; ask then your own heart, whether it would not abhor any one, as the most outrageous violater of that and every other principle of right, justice, and humanity, who should make a slave of you and your posterity for ever! Remember, that God knoweth the heart; lay not this flattering unction to your soul, that it is the custom of the country; that you found it so, that not your will; but your necessity, consents. Ah! think how little such an excuse will avail you in that aweful day, when your Saviour shall pronounce judgment on you for breaking a law too plain to be misunderstood, too sacred to be violated. If we say we are christians, yet act more inhumanly and unjustly than heathens, with what dreadful justice must this sentence of our blessed Saviour fall upon us, "_Not every one that saith unto me Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he that doth the will of my Father which is in heaven."_ Matth. vii. 21. Think a moment how much your temporal, your eternal welfare depends upon an abolition of a practice which deforms the image of your God, tramples on his revealed will, infringes the most sacred rights, and violates humanity. Enough, I hope, has been asserted, to prove that slavery is a violation of justice and religion. That it is dangerous to the safety of the state in which it prevails, may be as safely asserted. What one's own experience has not taught; that of others must decide. From hence does history derive its utility; for being, when truly written, a faithful record of the transactions of mankind, and the consequences that flowed from them, we are thence furnished with the means of judging what will be the probable effect of transactions, similar among ourselves. We learn then from history, that slavery, wherever encouraged, has sooner or later been productive of very dangerous commotions. I will not trouble my reader here with quotations in support of this assertion, but content myself with referring those, who may be dubious of its truth, to the histories of Athens, Lacedemon, Rome, and Spain. How long, how bloody and destructive was the contest between the Moorish slaves and the native Spaniards? and after almost deluges of blood had been shed, the Spaniards obtained nothing more than driving them into the mountains.--Less bloody indeed, though, not less alarming, have been the insurrections in Jamaica; and to imagine that we shall be for ever exempted from this calamity, which experience teaches us to be inseparable from slavery, so encouraged; is an infatuation as astonishing as it will be surely fatal:--&c. &c. EXTRACT OF A SERMON PREACHED BY THE BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER, Before the SOCIETY For the PROPAGATION of the GOSPEL, at the anniversary meeting on the 21st of _February_, 1766. From the free-savages, I now come (the last point I propose to consider) to the savages in bonds. By these I mean the vast multitudes yearly stolen from the opposite continent, and sacrificed by the colonists to their great idol, the GOD OF GAIN. But what then? say these sincere worshippers of _Mammon_; they are our own property which we offer up. Gracious God! to talk (as in herds of cattle) of property in rational creatures! creatures endowed with all our faculties; possessing all our qualities but that of colour; our brethren both by nature and grace, shocks all the feelings of humanity, and the dictates of common sense. But, alas! what is there in the infinite abuses of society which does not shock them? Yet nothing is more certain in itself, and apparent to all, than that the infamous traffic for slaves directly infringes both divine and human law. Nature created man free, and grace invites him to assert his freedom. In excuse of this violation, it hath been pretended, that though indeed these miserable out-casts of humanity be torn from their homes and native country by fraud and violence, yet they thereby become the happier, and their condition the more eligible. But who are You, who pretend to judge of another man's happiness? That state, which each man, under the guidance of his Maker, forms for himself, and not one man for another? To know what constitutes mine or your happiness, is the sole prerogative of Him who created us, and cast us in so various and different moulds. Did your slaves ever complain to you of their unhappiness amidst their native woods and deserts? Or, rather, let me ask, did they ever cease complaining of their condition under you their lordly masters? where they see, indeed, the accommodations of civil life, but see them all pass to others, themselves unbenefited by them. Be so gracious then, ye petty tyrants over human freedom, to let your slaves judge for themselves, what it is which makes their own happiness. And then see whether they do not place it in the return to their own country, rather than in the contemplation of your grandeur, of which their misery makes so large a part. A return so passionately longed for, that despairing of happiness here, that is, of escaping the chains of their cruel task-masters, they console themselves with feigning it to be the gracious reward of heaven in their future state, which I do not find their haughty masters have as yet concerned themselves to invade. The less hardy, indeed, wait for this felicity till over-wearied nature sets them free; but the more resolved have recourse even to self-violence, to force a speedier passage. But it will be still urged, that though what is called human happiness be of so fantastic a nature, that each man's imagination creates it for himself, yet human misery is more substantial and uniform throughout all the tribes of mankind. Now, from the worst of human miseries, the savage Africans, by these forced emigrations, are intirely secured; such as the being perpetually hunted down like beasts of prey or profit, by their more savage and powerful neighbours--In truth, a blessed change!--from being hunted to being caught. But who are they that have set on foot this general HUNTING? Are they not these very civilized violaters of humanity themselves? who tempt the weak appetites, and provoke the wild passions of the fiercer savages to prey upon the rest. THE END. INDEX. A _Adanson_ (M.) his account of the country on the rivers _Senegal_ and _Gambia_, 14. Extraordinary fertility, _ibid._ Surprising vegetation, 15. Beautiful aspect of the country, 16. Good disposition of the natives, _ibid._ _Advertisements in the New-York Journal_, for the sale of slaves, 158. Also in the news-papers of _London_, 160. _Africa_, that part from whence the Negroe slaves are brought, how divided, 6. Capable of a considerable trade, 143. Alien (every) or stranger coming within the King's dominion, becomes a subject, 148. Antientest account of the Negroes, 41. Were then a simple innocent people, 43. _Angola_, a plentiful country, 39. Character of the natives, 40. Government, _ibid._ B _Barbadoes_ (laws of) respecting Negroe slaves, 170. _Barbot (John)_ agent general of the _French African Company_, his account of the _Gold Coast_, 25. Of the _Slave Coast_, 27. _Bosman (William)_ principal factor for the _Dutch_ at _D'Elmina_, his account of the _Gold Coast_, 23. Of the _Slave Coast_, 27. _Brue (Andrew)_ principal factor of the _French African Company_, his account of the country on the river _Senegal_, 7. And on the river _Gambia_, 8. _Benin_ (kingdom of) good character of the natives, 35. Punishment of crimes, 36. Order of government, _ibid._ Largeness and order of the city of _Great Benin_, 37. _Britons_ (antient) in their original state no less barbarous than the _African_ Negroes, 68. _Baxter (Richard)_ his testimony against slavery, 83. C Corruption of some of the Kings of _Guinea_, 107. D _De la Casa_ (bishop of _Chapia_) his concern for the _Indians_, 47. His speech to _Charles_ the Fifth Emperor of _Germany_ and King of _Spain_, 48. Prodigious destruction of the _Indians_ in _Hispaniola_, 51. _Divine principle_ in every man, its effects on those who obey its dictates, 14. E _Elizabeth_ (Queen) her caution to captain Hawkins not to enslave any of the Negroes, 55. _English_, their first trade on the coast of Guinea, 52. _Europeans_ are the principal cause of the wars which subsist amongst the Negroes, 61. _English_ laws allow no man, of what condition soever, to be deprived of his liberty, without a legal process, 150. The danger of confining any person without a warrant, 162. F Fishing, a considerable business on the Guinea coast, 26. How carried on, _ibid._ _Foster (James)_ his testimony against slavery, 186. _Fuli_ Negroes good farmers, 10. Those on the _Gambia_ particularly recommended for their industry and good behaviour, _ibid._ _France_ (King of) objects to the Negroes in his dominions being reduced to a state of slavery, 58. G _Gambia (river)_8, 14. _Gloucester_ (bishop of) extract of his sermon, 195. _Godwyn (Morgan)_ his plea in favour of the Negroes and Indians, 75. Complains of the cruelties exercised upon slaves, 76. A false opinion prevailed in his time, that the Negroes were not objects of redeeming grace, 77. _Gold Coast_ has several European factories, 22. Great trade for slaves, _ibid._ Carried on far in the inland country, _ibid._ Natives more reconciled to the Europeans, and more diligent in procuring slaves, _ibid._ Extraordinarily fruitful and agreeable, 22, 25. The natives industrious, 24. _Great Britain_, all persons during their residence there are the King's subjects, 148. _Guinea_ extraordinarily fertile, 2. Extremely unhealthy to the Europeans, 4. But agrees well with the natives, _ibid._ Prodigious rising of waters, _ibid._ Hot winds, _ibid._ Surprising vegetation, 15. H _Hawkins_ (captain) lands on the coast of Guinea and seizes on a number of the natives, which he sells to the Spaniards, 55. _Hottentots_ misrepresented by authors, 101. True account given of these people by Kolben, 102. Love of liberty and sloth their prevailing passions, 102. Distinguished by several virtues, 103. Firm in alliances, _ibid._ Offended at the vices predominant amongst christians, 104. Make nor keep no slaves, _ibid._ _Hughes (Griffith)_ his account of the number of Negroes in Barbadoes, 85. Speaks well of their natural capacities, 86. Husbandry of the Negroes carried on in common, 28. _Hutcheson (Francis)_ his declaration against slavery, 184. I _Jalof_ Negroes, their government, 9. _Indians_ grievously oppressed by the Spaniards, 47. Their cause pleaded by Bartholomew De la Casa, 48. Inland people, good account of them, 25. _Ivory Coast_ fertile, &c. 18. Natives falsely represented to be a treacherous people, _ibid._ Kind when well used, 19. Have no European factories amongst them, 21. And but few wars; therefore few slaves to be had there, 22. J Jury, Negroes tried and condemned without the solemnity of a jury, 174. Highly repugnant to the English constitution, 176. Dangerous to those concerned therein, _ibid._ L Laws in Guinea severe against man-stealing, and other crimes, 106. M _Mandingoe_ Negroes a numerous nation, 11. Great traders, _ibid._ Laborious, 11. Their government, 13. Their worship, _ibid_. Manner of tillage, _ibid._ At Galem they suffer none to be made slaves but criminals, 20. _Maloyans_ (a black people) sometimes sold amongst Negroes brought from very distant parts, 27. Markets regularly kept on the Gold and Slave Coasts, 30. _Montesquieu's_ sentiments on slavery, 72. _Moor (Francis)_ factor to the African company, his account of the slave-trade on the river Gambia, 111. Mosaic law merciful in its chastisements, 73. Has respect to human nature, _ibid._ N National wars disapproved by the most considerate amongst the Negroes, 110. _Negroes_ (in Guinea) generally a humane, sociable people, 2. Simplicity of their way of living, 5. Agreeable in conversation, 16. Sensible of the damage accruing to them from the slave-trade, 61. Misrepresented by most authors, 98. Offended at the brutality of the European factors, 116. Shocking cruelties exercised on them by masters of vessels, 124. How many are yearly brought from Guinea by the English, 129. The numbers who die on the passage and in the seasoning, 120. _Negroe_ slaves (in the colonies) allowed to cohabit and separate at pleasure, 36. Great waste of them thro' hard usage in the islands, 86. Melancholy case of two of them, 136. Proposals for setting them free, 129. Tried and condemned without the solemnity of a jury, 174. _Negroes_ (free) discouragement they met with, 133. P _Portugueze_ carry on a great trade for slaves at Angola, 40. Make the first incursions into Guinea, 44. From whence they carry off some of the natives, _ibid._ Beginners of the slave-trade, 46. Erect the first fort at D'Elmina, _ibid._ R _Rome_ (the college of cardinals at) complain of the abuse offered to the Negroes in selling them for slaves, 58. S _Senegal_ (river) account of, 7, 14. Ship (account of one) blown up on the coast of Guinea with a number of Negroes on board, 125. Slave-trade, how carried on at the river Gambia, 111. And in other parts of Guinea, 113. At Whidah, 115. Slaves used with much more lenity in Algiers and in Turkey than in our colonies, 70. Likewise in Guinea, 71. Slavery more tolerable amongst the antient Pagans than in our colonies, 63. Declined, as christianity prevailed, 65. Early laws in France for its abolishment, 66. If put an end to, would make way for a very extensive trade through Africa, 143. The danger of slavery taking place in England, 164. _Sloane_ (Sir Hans) his account of the inhuman and extravagant punishments inflicted on Negroes, 89. _Smith (William)_ surveyor to the African company, his account of the Ivory Coast, 20. Of the Gold Coast, 24. V VIRGINIA (laws), respecting Negro slaves, 172. _Virginia_ (address to the assembly) setting forth the iniquity and danger of slavery, 189. W WALLACE (_George_) his testimony against slavery, 180. _West Indies_, white people able to perform the necessary work there, 141. _Whidah_ (kingdom of) agreeable and fruitful, 27. Natives treat one another with respect, 29. 
12539	----	Proofreaders Europe, http://dp.rastko.net. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Bibliotheque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr. Willy De la Court [Illustration: A MANDINGO CHIEF, and his HEADMAN, in their COSTUME, & other NATIVES] OBSERVATIONS UPON THE WINDWARD COAST OF AFRICA, THE RELIGION, CHARACTER, CUSTOMS, &c. OF THE NATIVES; WITH A SYSTEM UPON WHICH THEY MAY BE CIVILIZED, AND A KNOWLEDGE ATTAINED OF THE INTERIOR OF THIS EXTRAORDINARY QUARTER OF THE GLOBE; AND UPON THE NATURAL AND COMMERCIAL RESOURCES OF THE COUNTRY; MADE IN THE YEARS 1805 AND 1806. BY JOSEPH CORRY. WITH AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING A LETTER TO LORD HOWICK, ON THE MOST SIMPLE AND EFFECTUAL MEANS OF ABOLISHING THE SLAVE TRADE. LONDON: PRINTED FOR G. AND W. NICOL, BOOKSELLERS TO HIS MAJESTY, PALL-MALL; AND JAMES ASPERNE, CORNHILL. BY W. BULMER AND CO. CLEVELAND ROW, ST. JAMES'S 1807. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD VISCOUNT CASTLEREAGH, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF STATE FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS. MY LORD, Hightly flattered by your Lordship's polite condescension, in permitting me to inscribe to you the following Pages, I return your Lordship my most unfeigned thanks. If they meet your Lordship's approbation, and that of a discerning Public; or if they tend in the most remote degree to excite more intelligent efforts and more active enterprise on behalf of the unenlightened African, or to augment the Commerce of the United Kingdom with a Country, now in danger of falling into the hands of our Enemies, I shall feel an ample reward for the risques and dangers to which I have been exposed in collecting these Fragments; while the occasion gives me the opportunity of subscribing myself, With grateful acknowledgments, Your Lordship's Most obedient, and devoted humble Servant, JOSEPH CORRY, PREFACE. With becoming deference, I shall endeavour to illustrate in the following pages, the observations I have personally made upon the Coast of Africa, and to give the information I have obtained from an extended circle of Chiefs, and native Tribes, relative to its Inhabitants, their Religion, Habits and Customs, the natural productions and commercial resources, &c. and attempt to delineate the most eligible grounds upon which the condition of the African may be effectually improved, and our commercial relations be preserved with that important quarter of the globe. Though deeply impressed with the importance of the subject, and my own incompetency, I obtrude myself upon Public notice, governed by this reflection, that I am stimulated by an ardent zeal for the prosperity of my Country, and am animated by a philanthropic solicitude for the effectual manumission of the African, from his enslaved customs, his superstitious idolatry, and for the enlargement of his intellectual powers. I shall guard against the sacrifice of truth to abstracted principles; and if in the most remote degree, I excite the interference of my countrymen in behalf of the African, extend our commerce, and enlarge the circle of civilized and Christian Society, I shall think that I have neither travelled, nor written in vain. Africa is a country hitherto but little known; those in general who have visited it, have been either inadequate to research, or have been absorbed in the immediate attainment of gain; moreover the European Traveller in that country has to contend with the combined influence of the native jealousies of its inhabitants, their hereditary barbarism, obstinate ferocity, and above all, an uncongenial climate. To surmount these difficulties, commerce is the most certain medium to inspire its Chiefs and Natives with confidence, and to obtain a facility of intercourse with the Interior country. Sanctioned by that pursuit, I have been favoured with information from a large circle of Native Chiefs, and Tribes, relative to their customs, their habits, localities, predilections, and the existing state of society. The impressions, which ocular demonstration, and personal investigation occasion upon visiting this uncultivated country, are so different from those excited in any other district of the globe, and so powerful, that the mind is naturally led to meditation on the means of its improvement and on the mode by which it may be ameliorated, and the sources of commerce be essentially enlarged. Europe, which merits the highest rank for philanthropy, has hitherto strangely neglected this country; nor have the attempts of individuals and benevolent Societies been productive in endeavouring to diffuse the influence of civilization, and to desseminate the seeds of science throughout these extensive regions. Trusting that my endeavours to befriend the Natives of Africa, and to extend the Commerce of my Country, will shield me from the severity of animadversion, and of criticism, I shall proceed in my relation. J. CORRY. _September 1st, 1807_. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Remarks from the Period of Embarkation at St. Helen's, till the Arrival at Sierra Leone--Sketches of the Land seen in the Passage--its Bearings and Distance--Observations upon the Bay and Entrance of Sierra Leone River, &c. CHAPTER II. The Author leaves Bance Island.--Visits the Colony of Sierra Leone.--Delivers his introductory Letter to the late Governor Day, from whom he experiences a most hospitable Reception.--Cursory Remarks upon that Colony, and upon the Islands of Banana.--His Embarkation for the Island of Goree, &c. CHAPTER III. An Excursion to the main Land.--Visit to King Marraboo.--Anecdotes of this Chief.--Another Excursion, accompanied by Mr. Hamilton.--A shooting Party, acccompanied by Marraboo's Son, Alexander, and other Chiefs.--Reflections upon Information obtained from them, and at Goree, relative to this Part of the Coast.--Embark in his Majesty's Sloop of War the Eugenia, which convoyed Mr. Mungo Park in the Brig Crescent, to the River Gambia, on his late Mission to the Interior of Africa.--Observations on that Subject.--Arrive in Porto Praya Bay, in the Island of St. Jago.--Some Remarks upon that Island.--Departure from thence to England, and safe Arrival at Portsmouth CHAPTER IV. The Author proceeds to London.--Re-embarks for Africa.--Arrives at Madeira.--Observations on that Island.--Prosecution of the Voyage, and Arrival in the Sierra Leone River, &c. CHAPTER V. Observations upon the natural Productions of the River Sierra Leone.--The Author explores its Branches, interior to Bance Island, the Rochelle, and the Port Logo.--The Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants.--Their Commerce.--The Author's safe Arrival at Miffare CHAPTER VI. Return to Bance Island.--General Observations on the Commerce, Religion, Customs, and Character of the Natives upon the Windward Coast.--An Account of the requisite Merchandize for Trade, the best Mode of introducing natural Commerce and Civilization into Africa, &c. CHAPTER VII. The Mode of Trial by _Ordeal_ and _Red Water_ in Africa.--The Wars of its Inhabitants.--The State of Barbarism and Slavery considered.--The Condition of the Africans will not be improved by a late Legislative Act, without further Interference.--Salutary Measures must be adopted towards the Negroes in the Colonies.--A System suggested to abolish Slavery in Africa, and the Slave Trade in general, and to enlarge the intellectual Powers of its Inhabitants.--The proper Positions to effect an Opening to the Interior of Africa, and to display to the World its manifold Resources CHAPTER VIII. What the Anthor conceives should be the System of Establishment to make effectual the Operations from Cape Verd to Cape Palmas.--Reasons for subjecting the Whole to one Superior and controlling Administration.--The Situations, in his Estimation, where principal Depots may be established, and auxiliary Factories may be placed, &c. &c. CHAPTER IX. The Author embarks in the Ship Minerva.--Proceeds to the Rio Pongo.--Disquisitions thereon.--Further Observations on the Inhabitants, obtained from Natives of various Nations met with there.--The Isles de Loss.--Returns to Sierra Leone, &c. CHAPTER X. The Author visits the Isles de Loss.--Remarks on those Islands.--Touches at the River Scarcies.--Arrives at the Colony of Sierra Leone.--Embarks for the West Indies--Lands at the Colony of Demerary.--Some Observations on the Productions of that Colony, Berbice, and Essequibo, and on the Importance of Dutch Guiana to the United Kingdom in a political and commercial View CHAPTER XI. Conclusion APPENDIX. No. I. Letter to the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Howick, His Majesty's late principal Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, on the Eve of his Lordship introducing the late Bill into Parliament for the Abolition of the Slave Trade; shewing at one View the most simple and ready Mode of gradually and effectually abolishing the Slave Trade, and eradicating Slavery No. II. Letter to the Right Honourable the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, referred to in the foregoing Letter to Lord Howick No. III. Of the Purrah Of the _Termite_, _Termes_, or _Bug a Bug_, as it is called by the Natives upon the Windward Coast of Africa Of the Camelion On the Interment of the Dead On the Amusements, Musical Instruments, &c. of the Africans Concluding Observations Vocabulary of the Languages of the principal Nations of the Windward Coast of Africa DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. Mandingo Chief and his Head Man, with other Natives in their Costume, to face the Title Page. Sketch of the Windward Coast of Africa to face page 1 Palma The Colony of Sierra Leone and Islands of Banana Island of Goree Porto Praya, Island of St. Jago Island of Fogo, Cape Verd Island of St. Jago, and Paps of Cape Verd Bance Island, River Sierra Leone In illustration of the above Plates, it may be satisfactory to the Reader to explain that the Turban, in the Frontispiece, distinguishes the _Mandingo Chief_; and that the Cap, which adorns the _Head Man_, is embroidered by _themselves_ on scarlet cloth procured from Europeans in trade, and is executed with great ingenuity. The narrow stripe of blue cloth suspended behind from the covering which adorns one of the figures in the back ground, distinguishes a female in the state of virginity. This distinguishing mark of _virgin purity_ is uniformly removed upon entering into the matrimonial state, and is called by the Timmauees _Tintanjey_. In the Plate of Bance Island, River Sierra Leone, page 33, is a correct representation of the _Pullam_ tree, described in page 38, as bearing a species of silk cotton, or ether down, and is much revered by the natives, who consider it in many instances as their _Fetish_. * * * * * ERRATA. Page 54, line 8, for _gallunas_ read _galhinas_. 62 2, for _is derived from the African gris-gris_, read, _is the expression from which the African gris-gris is_ _derived_. 64 20, for _lugras_, read _lugars_. 92 6, for _bungra_, read _bangra_. [Illustration: SKETCH OF THE WINDWARD COAST OF AFRICA] OBSERVATIONS UPON THE WINDWARD COAST OF AFRICA. CHAPTER I. _Remarks from the Period of my Embarkation at St. Helens, to my arrival at Sierra Leone--Sketches of the Land discovered in the Passage--its Bearings and Distance--with Observations upon the Bay and Entrance of Sierra Leone River, &c._ Previous to my arrival and landing in the river Sierra Leone, on the 6th of April, 1805, I shall notice my passage, and display the sketches I have taken of the land we fell in with, its bearings and distance, for the observation of the mariner, which from position and prominence to the Atlantic, claim his most serious attention in running down the coast of Africa to-windward.[1] On the 9th March, 1805, I sailed from St. Helens in the ship Thames, commanded by James Welsh, in company with a fleet of ships bound to the East Indies, under convoy of his Majesty's ship Indostan. We had a favourable run down Channel; but, after making to the westward of Scilly, a heavy gale of wind separated the Thames from the convoy, which we never afterwards regained, and were therefore obliged, at all hazards, to proceed for our destination upon the coast of Africa. Nothing interesting occurred during a prosperous and quick passage, until the high land of Sierra Leone appeared in view on the evening of the 5th of April. We came to an anchor outside the Capes, and weighed the next morning, steering our course for the river. The space between Leopard's Island, situated to the north, and Cape Sierra Leone to the south, forms the entrance into the river Sierra Leone; being in latitude 8° 30" N. and in 13° 43" W. long. and is computed about seven geographical leagues distant. The river empties itself immediately into the ocean; and its level banks to the north are covered with impervious forests, while those to the south exhibit the romantic scenery of an extended chain of lofty mountains and hills, clothed and ornamented with foliage of the most luxuriant nature, exciting the highest admiration in those who are susceptible of the impressions which the sublime works of the creation never fail to inspire. Upon entering the bay, the eye is attracted by an extensive river, circumscribed by the foregoing outline, and exhibiting upon its banks an assemblage of the productions of nature, vegetating in their native purity. This view is animated by the prospect of the colony of Sierra Leone, and the masts of vessels and craft which commerce, and a safe anchorage, encourage to assemble before it, and by numerous natives paddling with great dexterity in their canoes. [Illustration: PALMA bearing S. by W. distant about 8 leagues from A Published Aug 1 1807 by G & W Nicol] As I shall have occasion to speak hereafter of the importance of this bay in a commercial and agricultural point of view, I shall not at present enter into farther details; but only suggest that I consider it as a position from whence active enterprize may perform its operations throughout an extensive district, and derive the most important advantages. At two. P.M. came to an anchor before the fort and settlement of Bance Island, which we saluted with seven guns. The river is navigable up to this island for ships, and small craft proceed a number of miles higher, on the branches of the Port Logo and Rochell. It is obscured from the view by the island of Tasso, until bearing round a point of that island called Tasso Point; the eye is then attracted by a regular fortification, and even an elegant range of buildings and store-houses, which, with great propriety, may be considered as one of the most desirable positions upon the windward coast of Africa, to command the interior commerce of the countries bordering upon the river Sierra Leone and its branches, and that of the rivers to the northward, the Scarcies and adjoining rivers, the Rio Pongo, with the Isles De Loss, Rio Grande, Rio Noonez, &c. and those which fall into the sea from Cape Sierra Leone to Cape Palmas. Tasso is an island adjoining, about a mile and a half distant, of some extent, and a remarkably fertile soil. It is attached to Bance Island; bearing cotton of a very good staple, and is capable of producing any tropical production. Considerable labour and expense have been applied to introduce cultivation into this island, and to exemplify to the African the advantages derivable from his native soil, by the civil arts of life; while under a still more scientific superintendency, it would become a possession of very considerable consequence in an agricultural view. Bance Island is little more than a barren rock, of about three-quarters of a mile in extent. The entrance into the fort is through a folding door or gate, over which, throughout the night, a watch is constantly placed. The expectations excited by its external appearance were by no means lessened by a view of the interior of the fort, in which were assembled several traders, and chiefs, with their attendants. I was much the object of their curiosity and attention; and in their manner, all came up to me, to _give me service _, as expressed in the idiom of their language. This ceremony is simply performed by touching the fingers, accompanied in the Timminy language by the usual obeisance of _Currea _, or, how do you do? The reply to this is _Ba_, which means good, I return you service. The Grumittas, or free black people, are assembled outside the fort, in houses or huts built with mud, upon the general construction in Africa, which usually is an oblong square, raised little more than eight feet; or a circle of the same height, over which is thrown a roof of bamboo, or other thatch, supported by posts about five or six feet asunder, forming a canopy, which shelters them from the rays of the sun, or the inclemency of the weather, and affords a shade under which they retire in the extreme heat of the day, where they repose in their hammocks, or rest upon their mats. This group of buildings or huts is denominated Adam's Town, from the black chief who presides over these labouring people. Their numbers may be estimated at about 600. Originally they were slaves to the proprietors of this island; but from a very humane and wise policy, they have been endowed with certain privileges, which rescue them from an absolute state of slavery, and prevents their being sold as slaves, unless they are convicted by the laws and customs of their country of some crime or delinquency. Among these people are artizans in various branches, viz. smiths, carpenters, joiners, masons, &c. under the superintendance of Europeans in their different trades, who for ingenuity and adroitness in their respective capacities, would deserve the approbation even of the connoisseur in these arts; while in many other instances they discover a genius of the most intelligent character, and a decency in their dress and manners distinguished from that among the surrounding tribes; which is the never failing consequence of the influence of the arts of civilized society over barbarous customs and habits. [Footnote 1: Perhaps it will be considered by the reader a singular phenomenon, that the upper region of _Palma_ was covered with snow.] CHAPTER II. _The Author leaves Bance Island--Visits the Colony of Sierra Leone--Delivers his introductory Letter to the late Governor Day, from whom he experiences a most hospitable Reception--Cursory Remarks upon that Colony and upon the Islands of Bannana--His Embarkation for the Island of Goree, &c._ From the 6th to the 8td April, I remained at Bance Island, and having determined to embark for Europe, where circumstances required me by the first conveyance, I visited the colony of Sierra Leone, then under the government of the late Capt. William Day, of the Royal Navy, to whom I had a recommendatory letter. His reception of me was in conformity with his general character, distinguished for urbanity and polite hospitality; and such were the impressions upon my mind, both from observation and report, of the skill and penetration he possessed to fulfil the arduous duties of his station, that they never will be effaced, and I shall ever retain the highest respect for his memory. He was then occupied in forming plans of defence in the colony; and had he lived, I am firmly persuaded, from subsequent observation and enquiry, that it would in a short period have opposed to an enemy a formidable resistance, and that it might have been speedily rescued from that anarchy and confusion which distracted councils, and want of unanimity had occasioned. The colony of Sierra Leone was established by the 31st of George III. avowedly in opposition to the Slave Trade, and for the purpose of augmenting more natural commerce, and introducing civilization among the natives of Africa. The grant is from the 1st of July, 1791, and to continue for the space of 31 years. During the late war with France, in September 1794, it was nearly destroyed by a French squadron, consisting of one two-decker, several armed ships and brigs, in the whole about seven or eight sail; they appeared in the offing on the evening of the 27th, and in the morning of the 28th at day-light commenced their operations; the result of which was, that the colony was ravaged by the enemy, and many houses burnt and destroyed. This squadron was piloted into the river by two Americans, one of whom was a Captain Neville. The pecuniary loss to the colony by this attack has been estimated at about 40,000_l_. independant of buildings destroyed, valued at first cost, about 15,000_l_. more. Bance Island experienced the same fate, and suffered in pecuniary loss upwards of 20,000_l_. In addition to this calamity, the Sierra Leone Company had to lament the inefficiency of its superintendants, their want of unanimity, and various other disasters and unforeseen difficulties which operated to augment the charge in their establishment, and diminish its funds; and with every deference to the benevolent undertakers, whose motives merit the highest approbation of every enlightened mind, I would observe, they have likewise to regret their misconception of the eligible grounds upon which so beneficent a plan is to be productive of operative influence; but as at a future stage of my narrative, I shall be enabled from more minute investigation to enter at large upon this interesting subject, I shall for the present dismiss it. On the 28th of April I embarked on board his Majesty's sloop of war the Lark, then upon the windward station; having looked into the river for Governor Day's dispatches, &c.; and I cannot omit this opportunity of expressing the obligations conferred upon me by Captain Langford, the commander, and his officers, which invariably continued during my being on board. At day-light we weighed, and were saluted by one of the forts with 15 guns, which were returned; nothing of moment occurred during our passage, except being once overtaken with a tornado: this is a hurricane which prevails upon the windward coast of Africa about this season of the year, preceding the rainy season; and it is impossible to convey by description an adequate idea of this explosion of the elements. It announces its approach by a small white cloud scarcely discernible, which with incredible velocity overspreads the atmosphere, and envelopes the affrighted mariner in a vortex of lightning, thunder, torrents of rain, &c. exhibiting nature in one universal uproar. It is necessary when this cloud appears at sea, to take in all sail instantaneously, and bear away right before the furious assailant, which soon expends its awful and tremendous violence, and nature is again hushed into peaceful tranquillity. To the southward of Cape Sierra Leone, and in about 8 degrees north latitude, lie the Islands of Bannana, in a direction from east to west. To the west of Great Bannana, lie the smaller islands, which are little more than barren rocks. The soil of the Bannanas is very fertile, and the climate healthy, from their proximity to the sea, and the refreshing breezes which it bestows upon them. They take their name from a fruit so denominated; and are situated in the most eligible position for commerce, upon the Windward Coast; combining, from their fertility of soil and situation, great agricultural advantages, and peculiar salubrity of air. At present the sovereignty of these islands is contended for by two chiefs, of considerable intelligence and enterprise, named Caulker and Cleveland. Caulker appears to be the legitimate sovereign; Cleveland's forefathers having been established by Caulker's as _trade men_, on their account; and by intermarriage with that family their claims are founded. James Cleveland, who married king Caulker's sister, first began the war by his Grummettas, on the Bannanas, attacking Caulker's people on the Plantains, The result of this violence was, that Charles Caulker was killed in battle; and his body mangled and cut into pieces, in the most savage and cruel manner. In 1798, Stephen Caulker, the present chief, commenced war again, to revenge his brother's death; and the barbarous contest has continued ever since, marked with ferocious cruelty, and with various success to the respective claimants. Soon after its renewal, James Cleveland died, and was succeeded by his nephew, William, who has received his education in England, and is a chief of no inconsiderable acquirements and talent. Stephen Caulker has succeeded in obtaining from him the possession of the Bannanas and Plantains, and at present sways authority over them; still, however, exposed to the enterprising genius and intrigues of Cleveland. [Illustration: THE COLONY of SIERRA LEONE A bearing S.W. by E. distant 3 MILES, and the BANANAS bearing S.W. by W distant 3 leagues. Published Aug 1 1807 by G & W Nicol] Were it practicable to reconcile these contentions, and procure these valuable islands, they would form most eligible auxiliaries and depots to any establishment which Government might form upon this part of the coast, and be of the utmost importance; or in the event of their being unattainable, factories might be established at Kittim and Boom, both under Caulker's influence and protection. I have had frequent intercourse with this chief, and I found him of a very superior understanding, and acute intellect, to the generality of his countrymen; and if his jealousies could be allayed by the emollients of superior advantage, his intelligence and co-operation would much facilitate any operations in this quarter. On the 10th of April we arrived at Goree Roads, and came to an anchor nearly opposite to that part of the island of Goree, called the Point de Nore, and opening Cape Emanuel, which is by much the most eligible position in the event of tornados, as a ship may always run in safety to sea, between the island and the main land. Goree is a small island, or barren rock, little more than three quarters of a mile in length, and a few hundred yards in breadth. Its native inhabitants are of colour, and a spurious progeny from the French; for whom they still retain a great predilection. The number of what are called principal inhabitants, does not exceed 50 males, with their families, dependants, and slaves; which may in the aggregate amount to frequently between three and four thousand souls. Their principal trade is in slaves, of whom they annually export about two thousand, with a small proportion of dead cargo, chiefly procured from Gambia. Religion, of any description, is little practised or understood among them; although it is evident that Christianity has been introduced into the island, as there are traces of a catholic chapel and a monastery remaining. Custom here, as in all the maritime countries of Africa, is the governing principle of all their actions, added to an avaricious thirst for gain, and the indulgence of sensual gratification. The ceremony of marriage is too offensive for delicacy even to reflect upon, much less for me to narrate: it does not attach to the union any sacred obligation, the bond being broken at the moment of caprice in either party, or predilection in favour of any other object. As a preliminary to this disgusting ceremony, a "big dinner," in their phraseology, and a few presents to the lady, first obtaining her and her parents' consent, is all that is requisite. When the happy pair are united, the dependants and slaves of the parties, and their respective connexions, who are assembled round the buildings or huts, send forth a most savage yell of exclamation, accompanied by their barbarous music, gesticulations, and clapping of the hands, in unison with their song of triumph. This dance is continued with unabating vociferation during the night, and perhaps for a week, or greater length of time, bearing, however, due reference to the rank and consequence of the connubial pair. The following morning the bride issues forth, with solemn pace and slow, in grand procession, preceded by her most intimate female associate during her virgin state, reclining upon her shoulder with both hands; who, in consequence, is considered as the next matrimonial candidate. They are immediately surrounded by a concourse of attendants, accompanied by music, dancing, and other wild expressions of joy; and in a body proceed to visit her circle of acquaintance and friends, who are always expected to contribute some offering of congratulation. This ceremony is the concluding one on the part of the bride; while the dancing and music are continued by the attendants as long as they can procure any thing either to eat or drink. [Illustration: ISLAND OF GOREE Published Aug 1 1807 by G & W Nicol] In a military point of view, in its present condition, the island of Goree is far from being a place of strength; but in a commercial, it is of considerable importance; and, therefore, ought to claim the attention of Government, if it attaches any consequence towards a commerce with the coast of Africa. In a military character, its batteries and guns are in an extremely bad condition; and it is completely a position where a piccaroon privateer could check every supply from the continent, upon which it depends for fresh provisions and water, and might carry on hostile operations without the range of its batteries; which, by consequence, always exposes this garrison to contingencies and casual supply. In a commercial consideration, I view it as a possession of the greatest moment; from its contiguity to the French settlement of the Senegal, and to a large portion of that valuable district, which they claim and influence; from whence accurate information may be obtained of their operations; and a check may issue, to maintain our ascendency to leeward; besides a rallying point for our outward bound ships, to ascertain the enemy's force upon the coast; the deviation from a direct course to leeward being very unimportant: moreover, it might be an eligible depot for the trade of that infinitely valuable river, the Gambia, which, for variety of natural productions, is perhaps not to be excelled by any other in the world; only requiring the hand of industry and intelligence to fertilize and unfold. The garrison of Goree has seldom more than 150 effective men to defend it, of the royal African regiment, commanded by Major Lloyd;[1] and this force is very fluctuating, from sickness and the diseases of the climate; in general, however, it is tolerably healthy, and its physical department is superintended by a gentleman (Doctor Heddle) of very considerable intelligence and ability in his profession. The hospitality of Major Lloyd, and the officers of his corps, to their countrymen, is distinguished by liberality; and during my stay in that island, which was upwards of three weeks, I have to acknowledge their polite attentions. I was the inmate of Mr. Hamilton, in the commissariat department, whose peculiar friendship and kind offices have made a most indelible impression upon my mind. The view from the roads, some of the buildings near the shore being of stone, and upon even an elegant and convenient construction, is calculated to raise expectation upon approaching it, which is considerably lessened[**Transcriber's note: "lessoned" must be a typesetting error.] upon a nearer view; the streets being extremely narrow, and the huts of the natives huddled together without regularity or system. The inhabitants are governed in their local customs and capacities by a native mayor, and his advisers; but, of course, under the control of the commandant of the garrison; and this privilege is a mere matter of form and courtesy, which a lenient authority permits. [Footnote 1: Now Lieutenant Colonel Lloyd.] CHAPTER III. _An Excursion to the Main Land.--Visit to King Marraboo.--Anecdotes of this Chief.--Another Excursion, accompanied by Mr. Hamilton.--A shooting Party, accompanied by Marraboo's Son, Alexander, and other Chiefs.--Reflections upon Information obtained from them, relative to this Part of the Coast, and at Goree.--Embark in his Majesty's Sloop of War, the Eugenie, which convoyed Mr. Mungo Park in the Brig Crescent, to the River Gambia, on his late Mission to the Interior of Africa.--Observations on that Subject.--Arrive in Porto Praya Bay, in the Island of St. Jago.--Some Remarks upon that Island.--Departure from thence to England, and safe arrival at Portsmouth._ A few days after the arrival of the Lark at the island of Goree, accompanied by a party of the officers of that ship, I made an excursion upon the main land: we set out from the ship early in the morning, for Decar, the capital of a chief or king, named Marraboo: we arrived before he had moved abroad, and, after going through winding narrow paths or streets, we were conducted by one of his people to his palace, a wretched hovel, built with mud, and thatched with bamboo. In our way to this miserable habitation of royalty, a confused sound of voices issued forth from almost every hut we passed, which originated from their inhabitants vociferating their morning orisons to Allah and Mahomet; their religion being an heterogeneous system of Mahomedanism, associated with superstitious idolatry, incantations, and charms. We found _Marraboo's head men_ and priests assembled before his majesty's dwelling _to give him service_, and to offer him their morning's salutation. At length he made his appearance, followed by several of the officers of the palace, carrying skins of wild beasts, and mats, which upon enquiry, I found to have composed the royal bed, spread out upon a little hurdle, erected about a foot and a half high, interwoven with bamboo canes: my attention was much engaged with this novel sight; and I could not contemplate the venerable old man, surrounded by his chiefs, without conceiving I beheld one of the patriarchs of old, in their primaeval state. After his chiefs had paid their obeisance, I presumed, accompanied by my friends, to approach the royal presence; when he discovered us among the group, his countenance underwent an entire change, expressive of reserve and surprise, exclaiming, "What did I want with Marraboo?" With great humility I replied, "I be Englishman, come from King George's country, his brother, to give him service." He replied with quickness, "I be very glad to see you, what service have you brought?" I was aware of this tax upon my civility, and replied, that "I make him good service;" which in plain English was, that I shall make you a good present. He then conversed with more freedom relative to his country, government, localities, and religion; I suggested to him that "I understood he was a powerful king, and a great warrior, had many wives and children, that he ruled over much people, and a fine country, that I hear he get much head, that he far pass any of his enemies, and that I be very happy to look so great a king:" or, in other words, that I understood he was a great general, was very rich, was more wise than all his contemporary chiefs, and that it gave me much pleasure to pay my respects to so great a prince: but the former idiom of language is best adapted to convey meaning to the interpreters of the chiefs of Africa, in whatever tongue it may be spoken; being that which they use in translation; and when they are addressed in this phraseology, they convey their ideas with more perspicuity and literal interpretation. But to return to the dialogue. Marraboo.--"I be very glad to look you for that, I have much trouble all my life--great deal of war--my son some time since killed in battle." This was accompanied by such a melancholy expression of countenance, that could not fail to excite my compassion, I therefore avoided touching more on the subject of his wars; only observing, "that I hear he be too much for all his enemies, and that he build great wall that keep his town and people safe." Marraboo.--"The king of Darnel's people cannot pass that--they all be killed--they come there sometimes, but always go back again." My curiosity was excited to obtain the history of this _enchanted wall_, which on my approach to the town, I had discovered to be apparently little more than three or four feet high, and situated within the verge of their wells of fresh water, open at several places, and without any defence. Upon enquiry, I found that Marraboo had been early in life _fetish man_, or high priest, to Damel, king of Cayor, a very powerful chief bordering upon the Senegal, and that he had artfully contrived to gain over to his interest a number of adherents, who, in process of time, became formidable, rebelled against their lawful sovereign, and took possession of that part of the country towards Cape Verd: to strengthen their position, Marraboo caused a wall to be erected, commencing from the sea shore, and extending towards the Cape; which, in the estimation of the natives, and in consequence of his sacerdotal office, incantations, and charms, was rendered invulnerable: the hypocritical priest well knew the natural disposition of his countrymen, and the effect his exorcisms would produce upon their minds; which operated so effectually, that when his army was beaten by the powerful Damel, they uniformly retired behind their exorcised heap of stones, which in a moment stopt their enemy's career, and struck them with such dread, that they immediately retired to their country, leaving their impotent enemy in quiet possession of his usurped territory; whom otherwise they might have annihilated with the greatest facility. Superstition is a delusion very prevalent in Africa; and its powerful influence upon the human mind is forcibly illustrated by the foregoing instance. When I enquired of Marraboo the nature of his belief in a supreme being, his observations were confused and perplexed, having no perspicuous conception of his attributes or perfections, but an indistinct combination of incomprehensibility; and to sum up the whole, he remarked, "that he pass all men, and was not born of woman." A few days after the abovementioned visit, I made another excursion to the main land, accompanied by Mr. Hamilton, and one of the principal inhabitants of Goree, named Martin. We landed at a small native town, called after the island, Goree Town. When we came on shore, we were immediately surrounded by natives, who surveyed us with great curiosity and attention. We had prepared ourselves with fowling-pieces and shooting equipage, with the view of penetrating into the interior country: in pursuance of our design, we dispatched a messenger to _Decar_, with a request that we might be supplied with attendants and horses: our solicitation was promptly complied with; and Alexander, Marraboo's son, speedily made his appearance with two horses, attended by several chiefs and head men. Our cavalcade made a most grotesque exhibition; Mr. Hamilton and myself being on horseback, followed by Alexander and his attendants on foot, in their native accoutrements and shooting apparatus. My seat was not the most easy, neither was my horse very correct in his paces; the saddle being scarcely long enough to admit me, with a projection behind, intended as a security from falling backwards: the stirrups were formed of a thin plate of iron, about three or four inches broad, and so small, that I could scarcely squeeze my feet into them. In our progress we killed several birds, of a species unknown in Europe, and of a most beautiful plumage; one of which, a little larger than the partridge in England, was armed with a sharp dart or weapon projecting from the pinion, as if designed by nature to operate as a guard against its enemies. Our associates rendered us every friendly attention, and evinced great anxiety to contribute to our sport; and proved themselves skilful and expert marksmen. The country abounded with a multiplicity of trees and plants, which would no doubt have amply rewarded the researches of the botanist, and scientific investigator. The fatigue I had undergone, and the oppressive heat of the sun, so completely overpowered me, by the time of our return to Goree Town, that I felt myself attacked by a violent fever; in this situation I was attended with every tenderness and solicitude by the females; some bringing me a calabash of milk, others spreading me a mat to repose upon, and all uniting in kind offices: it is from them alone that man derives his highest happiness in this life; and in all situations to which he is exposed, they are the assuasive agents by whom his sorrows are soothed, his sufferings alleviated, and his griefs subdued; while compassion is their prominent characteristic, and sympathy a leading principle of their minds. The attention of these kind beings, and the affectionate offices of my friend, operating upon a naturally good constitution, soon enabled me to overcome the disease, and to return again to Goree. During the remaining part of my stay there, I was vigilantly employed in procuring every information relative to this part of the coast, and through the intelligence of several of the native inhabitants and traders, I am enabled to submit the following remarks. To elucidate, with perspicuity, the deep impression I feel of the importance of this district of the Windward Coast, in obtaining a facility of intercourse with the interior, combining such a variety of local advantage, by which our ascendency may be preserved, and our commercial relations improved, is an undertaking, the difficulties of which I duly appreciate; and I am aware that I have to combat many prejudices and grounds of opposition to the system I conceive to be practicable, to develope the various stores of wealth with which Africa abounds, and to improve the intellectual faculties of its native inhabitants. That a situation so highly valuable as the Senegal, and its contiguous auxiliary, the island of Goree, has been so overlooked, is certainly a subject of great surprise, and deep regret. While visionary and impracticable efforts have been resorted to penetrate into the interior of Africa, we have strangely neglected the maritime situations, which abound with multifarious objects of commerce, and valuable productions, inviting our interference to extricate them from their dormant state; and the consideration apparently has been overlooked, that the barbarism of the natives on the frontiers must first be subdued by enlightened example, before the path of research can be opened to the interior. We have several recent occurrences to lament, where the most enterprising efforts have failed, through the inherent jealousies of the natives, and their ferocious character; and, therefore, it is expedient to commence experiments in the maritime countries, as the most eligible points from whence operative influence is to make its progress, civilization display itself among the inhabitants, and a facility of intercourse be attained with the interior. So long as this powerful barrier remains in its present condition, it will continue unexplored; and our intercourse with its more improved tribes must remain obscured, by the forcible opposition of the frontier; and these immense regions, with their abundant natural resources, continue unknown to the civilized world. The inhabitants of the sea coast are always more fierce and savage than those more remote and insular: all travellers and voyagers, who have visited mankind in their barbarous state, must substantiate this fact: and the history of nations and states clearly demonstrates, that the never-failing influence of commerce and agriculture united, has emanated from the frontiers, and progressively spread their blessings into the interior countries. View our own now envied greatness, and the condition in which our forefathers lived, absorbed in idolatry and ignorance, and it will unquestionably appear, that our exalted state of being has arisen from the introduction of the civilized arts of life, the commerce which our local situation has invited to our shores, and our agricultural industry. Within the district now in contemplation, flows the river of _Senegal_, with its valuable _gum trade_; the _Gambia_, abounding with innumerable objects of commerce, such as indigo, and a great variety of plants for staining, of peculiar properties, timber, wax, ivory, &c.; _the Rio Grande, Rio Noonez, Rio Pongo,_ &c. all greatly productive, and their borders inhabited by the Jolliffs, the Foollahs, the Susees, the Mandingos, and other inferior nations, and communicating, as is now generally believed, with the river Niger, which introduces us to the interior of this great continent; the whole presenting an animating prospect to the distinguished enterprise of our country. That these advantages should be neglected, is, as I have before said, subject of deep regret, and are the objects which I would entreat my countrymen to contemplate, as the most eligible to attain a knowledge of this important quarter of the globe, and to introduce civilization among its numerous inhabitants; by which means, our enemies will be excluded from that emolument and acquirement, which we supinely overlook and abandon to contingencies. The island of Goree lies between the French settlement of the Senegal and the river Gambia, and therefore is a very appropriate local station to aid in forming a general system of operation from Cape Verd to Cape Palmas, subject to one administration and control. The administrative authority, I would recommend to be established in the river of Sierra Leone, as a central situation, from whence evolution is to proceed with requisite facility, and a ready intercourse be maintained throughout the whole of the Windward Coast; and as intermediate situations, I would propose the rivers Gambia, Rio Noonez, Rio Pongo, and Isles de Loss, to the northward; and to the southward, the Bannana Islands, the Galinhas, Bassau, John's River, &c. to Cape Palmas; or such of them as would be found, upon investigation, best calculated to promote the resources of this extensive coast. The supreme jurisdiction in the river Sierra Leone, with auxiliaries established to influence the trade of the foregoing rivers, form the outlines of my plan, to be supported by an adequate military force, and organized upon principles which I have hereafter to explain in the course of my narrative. Having an opportunity to sail for England, in his Majesty's sloop of war the Eugenie, commanded by Charles Webb, Esq. as it was uncertain at what time the Lark was to proceed, I availed myself of that officer's kind permission to embark, accompanied by surgeon Thomas Burrowes and his lady. The Eugenie had been dispatched for England to convoy the Crescent transport brig, with Mr. Mungo Park on board, to the river Gambia, upon his late mission to the interior of Africa. Captain Webb did not conceive it prudent, nor indeed was it expedient, to proceed higher up the river than Jillifree, and dispatched the Crescent as far as Kaya, about 150 miles from the capes of the river, where Mr. Park landed with his associates, viz. his surgeon, botanist, draftsman, and about 40 soldiers, commanded by an officer obtained from the royal African corps at Goree, by the order of Government. Nothing could have been more injudicious than attempting this ardoous undertaking, with any force assuming a military appearance. The natives of Africa are extremely jealous of white men, savage and ferocious in their manners, and in the utmost degree tenacious of any encroachment upon their country. This unhappy mistake may deprive the world of the researches of this intelligent and persevering traveller, who certainly merits the esteem of his country, and who, it is to be feared, may fall a victim to a misconceived plan, and mistaken procedure. [Illustration: PORTO PRAYA, ISLAND OF ST JAGO Published Aug 1 1807 by G & W Nicol] Although anxious to embark, yet I could not take my departure without sensibly feeling and expressing my sense of obligation for the many attentions I had to acknowledge from the officers of the garrison, and also to several of the native inhabitants, among whom were Peppin, Martin, St. John, and others; the latter, I am sorry to say, was in a bad state of health; I am much indebted to him for his judicious remarks, and very intelligent observations. This native received his education in France, and has acquired a very superior intelligence relative to the present condition of his country. Accompanied by Mr. Hamilton, my hospitable and friendly host, and several of the officers of the Lark, I embarked on board the Eugenie, on the 31st of May, and arrived in Porto Praya Bay on the 3d of June. The town of Porto Praya is situated upon a plain, forming a height from the sea, level with the fort, and is a most wretched place, with a very weak and vulnerable fortification. In the roads there is good anchorage for shipping, opposite to Quail island, and for smaller vessels nearer the shore. It has a governmenthouse, a catholic chapel, a market place, and jail, built with stone; and is now the residence of the government of the island of St. Jago, subject to the crown of Portugul. Formerly the governor's place of abode was at the town of St. Jago, upon the opposite side of the island: his title is that of governor-general of the islands, comprehending Mayo, Fogo, &c. Mayo is remarkable for its salt, which is cast on shore by the rollers or heavy seas, which at certain periods prevail, and run uncommonly high. The heat of the sun operating upon the saline particles, produces the salt, which the inhabitants collect in heaps for sale. We anchored at Mayo for some hours, and a number of vessels were lying in the roads, chiefly Americans, taking in this article; it is a very rocky and dangerous anchorage; we, however, found the traders were willing to undergo the risque, from the cheapness of the commodity they were in quest of. It is a most sorry place, with scarce a vestige of vegetation upon its surface, and its inhabitants apparently live in the greatest misery. They are governed by a black man, subject to the administration of St. Jago. The military force of St. Jago is by no means either formidable in numbers or discipline, and exhibits a most complete picture of despicable wretchedness. A black officer, of the name of Vincent, conducted as to the governor, who received us with politeness, and gave us an invitation to dinner. The town and garrison were quite in a state of activity and bustle; an officer of high rank and long residence among them had just paid the debt of nature, and his body was laid in state in the chapel, in all his paraphernalia. The greater part of the monks from the monastery of St. Jago were assembled upon the occasion, to sing requiems for his soul; and the scene was truly solemn and impressive. We met these ministers of religion at dinner, but how changed from that gravity of demeanor which distinguished them in their acts of external worship. The governor's excellent Madeira was taken in the most genuine spirit of devotion, accompanied by fervent exclamations upon its excellent qualities. Upon perceiving this holy fervency in the pious fraternity, we plied them closely, and frequently joined them in flowing bumpers, until their ardour began to sink into brutal stupidity, and the morning's hymns were changed into revelry and bacchanalian roar. [Illustration: POGO, bearing N. by W. distance about 4 leagues from B Published Aug 1 1807 by G & W Nicol] [Illustration: 3 ISLAND of ST. IAGO, distance 6 Miles. 4. PAPS of CAPE VERDE, bearing at C, _N.N.E._ and at D, _S.E._ by _S._ distance 3 leagues. Published Aug 1 1807 by G & W Nicol] This, however, was rather a tax upon the governor's hospitality, as it deprived him of his _Ciesta_, a common practice with him, almost immediately after the cloth is withdrawn. When we came ashore the next morning, we were highly entertained with the anecdotes related to us of the pranks performed during the night by the convivial priests, many of whom were unable to fulfil the duties of the altar at the usual hour of prayer. The natives of St. Jago, with those of the neighbouring islands, are mostly black, or of a mixed colour, very encroaching in their manners, and much addicted to knavery. The island is extremely rocky and uneven, but the vallies are fertile. The inhabitants raise cotton, and they have several sugar works; the quantity they raise of both, does not, however, much exceed their own consumption, but there is no doubt that it might be considerably augmented by industry, even for exportation; but the natives are indolent, and extremely listless in their habits. The only inducement in touching at this island is, to procure water and provisions: the former is good, and the latter consists in hogs, turkeys, ducks, poultry, &c. but frequently, after they have been visited by a fleet, a great scarcity prevails. The commodities the natives require as payment may be purchased at Rag Fair, being extremely partial to cast off wearing apparel of every description. The men are extremely slovenly in their dress; but the women are rather more correct and uniform, those of the better condition being habited in muslin, and their hair ornamented, and neatly plaited. They manufacture a narrow cloth of silk and cotton, which is in high estimation among them, and its exportation is prohibited, except to Portugal. Considerable ingenuity is displayed in this manufacture, which is performed in a loom, differing very little from that used by the ruder inhabitants of the coast of Africa, and similar to the garter loom in England. They have horses and mules well adapted to their roads and rugged paths, which they ride most furiously, particularly the military, who advance at full speed to a stone wall, or the side of a house, merely to shew their dexterity in halting. After being detained here for several days in taking in stock and provisions, we again weighed with the Crescent brig, and a sloop from Gambia, bound to London, under our convoy, and after a tedious and very anxious passage, arrived at Portsmouth on the 4th of August. We were detained under quarantine until the return of post from London, and proceeded on shore the following day. There is something in _natale solum_ which charms the soul after a period of absence, and operates so powerfully, as to fill it with indescribable sensations and delight. Every object and scene appeals so forcibly to the senses, enraptures the eye, and so sweetly attunes the mind, as to place this feeling among even the extacies of our nature, and; the most refined we are capable of enjoying. It is this love of his country which stimulates man to the noblest deeds; and, leaving all other considerations, only obedient to its call, separates him from his most tender connections, and makes him risque his life in its defence. "Where'er we roam, whatever realms to see, Our hearts untravell'd fondly turn to thee; Still to our country turn, with ceaseless pain, And drag, at each remove, a lengthening chain." GOLDSMITH. CHAPTER IV. _The Author proceeds to London.--Re-embarks for Africa.--Arrives at Madeira.--Observations on that Island.--Prosecution of the Voyage, and Arrival in the Sierra Leone River, &c._ Our happy arrival was celebrated at the Crown inn, where Captain Webb and his first Lieutenant (Younger) joined us; we dined together, and separated with mutual kind wishes. The next morning Mr. Burrowes and myself proceeded to London, and were once more rapidly conducted into its busy scene. Without even time to greet my friends, I again left town for Portsmouth, to commit myself to the watery element, and revisit the shores. I had so recently left; and on the 22d of September sailed, in the ship Andersons, from St. Helen's, under convoy of the Arab post sloop of war, commanded by Keith Maxwell, Esq. and the Favorite sloop of war, by John Davie, Esq. We anchored in Funchal Roads, island of Madeira, on Saturday the lath of October, without experiencing any remarkable event. When approaching the island of Madeira, it exhibits to the eye a strikingly beautiful and picturesque view. The uneven surface of the hills, covered with plantations of vines, and various kinds of herbage, with the exception of partial spots burnt up by the heat of the sun in the dry season, displays a singular perspective, which, with the beautiful appearance of the interspersed villas, churches, and monasteries, form an arrangement both exquisite and delightful. After being visited by the boat of health, our party proceeded on shore in the evening; and upon being made known to the house of Messrs. Murdoch, Masterton, and Co. were politely invited to breakfast the ensuing morning. At our appearance, in conformity with our appointment, we were introduced into the breakfast parlour by Mr. Wardrope, one of the acting partners, to his lady and sister, who received us with engaging civilities and attention. After our friendly meal, we perambulated the town of Funchal, and attended chapel, which so far from being a house of devotion, presented to our contemplation a rendezvous for intrigue and the retirement of a conversazione. Funchiale or Funchal, takes its derivation from Funcho, signifying in the Portuguese language, Fennel; it is situated at the bottom of a bay, and may be considered disproportionate to the island, in extent and appearance, as it is ill built, and the streets remarkably narrow and ill paved. The churches are decorated with ornaments, and pictures of images and saints, most wretchedly executed: I understand, however, that a much better taste is displayed in the convents, more especially that of the Franciscans, in which is a small chapel, exhibiting the disgusting view of human skulls and thigh bones lining its walls. The thigh bones form a cross, and the skulls are placed in each of the four angles. Nature has been very bountiful in her favours to Madeira; its soil is rich and various, and its climate is salubrious and versatile; it abounds in natural productions, and only requires the fostering hand of the husbandman to produce every necessary, and almost luxury, of life. Walnuts, chesnuts, and apples, flourish in the hills, almost spontaneously, and guanas, mangoes, and bananas, in wild exuberance. At the country residence of James Gordon, Esq. where we dined, and met with the most distinguished hospitality, I saw a most surprising instance of rapid growth; a shoot of the tree, called the Limbriera Royal, started up, perpendicularly from the trunk, to a height of nearly _thirty feet_, from the month of January to that of October: it is, however, to be observed, that the branches were lopped off, and it is supposed the juices of the trunk communicated to this stem. Corn of a very good quality grows in this island, and might be produced in plenty, but the inhabitants, whose characteristic is idleness, neglect its culture, and thereby subject themselves to the necessity of relying upon foreign imports. Their beef, mutton, and pork, are remarkably good, and they have game in the mountains. By order of the late governor, in 1800, the population was taken from the confessional returns, and, as he was himself a bishop, it may be inferred that the number stated below, which I procured from official authority, is accurate, viz. Number confessed, 95,000 And, calculating 1 in 10 for children under 5 years of age, the first period of their confession, is equal to 3,500 -------- Making in the aggregate the number of souls to be 104,500 -------- 15,000 of whom were computed to be inhabitants of the town of Funchal. The government consists of a governor, appointed by the crown of Portugal, the island being in its possession, styled governor of the islands, and: is perfectly arbitrary; Funchal is his residence; he has a council under him consisting of 24 members, whose president is the second judge for the time being. All officers are nominated by the crown, and the holders continue only for three years, at the end of which new nominations take place. The only article of trade is wine, of which they export about 12,000 pipes annually, and consume from 6 to 8,000 pipes in the island, comprehending _small wine_, &c. being in the whole about 20,000 pipes. It is made by pressing out the juice from the grape in a wooden vessel, proportioned in size to the quantity they intend to make. The wine-pressers take off their jackets and stockings, get into the vessel, and with their elbows and feet press as much of the juice as is practicable by this operation; the stalks are then tied together and pressed, under a square piece of wood, by a lever with a stone fastened to the end of it; the wine is brought from the country in goat skins, by men and women on their heads. The roads are so steep and roughly paved, that neither carriages nor carts are in use, the substitute is a palanquin for the former, and for the latter a hollow log of wood, drawn by oxen, upon which the wine vessels or other loads are placed; they, however, have horses and mules very well adapted to their roads. The revenue to the crown of Portugal is estimated from 20 to 30,000_l_. annually, clear of all expenses; but the balance of trade is greatly against them, all their specie being drawn to Lisbon. The currency of the island is Spanish, and consists of dollars, converted by their laws, into milreas of 5_s_. 6_d_. pistareens, value about is. bits, about 6_d_. and half bits, about 3_d_. It is disadvantageous to take up money at Madeira upon bills, as they make payment in dollars, which they value at a milrea. Sometimes they may, from particular circumstances, give a premium, but it is seldom equal to the discount. On the morning of the 18th I bad my grateful adieu to Madeira, and the friendly roof of Mr. Wardrope and his united family, the abode of conjugal affection, friendship, and hospitable reception; and at 2 P.M. went on board. We weighed anchor under the protection of the Favorite, the Arab continuing at her moorings. Passing between the grand Canary and close in with Teneriffe, we arrived safe at the island of Goree, on the 5th of November, without our commodore, under convoy of the Favorite. The ship Andersons having freight to deliver at that island, we continued there until the 12th, and again resumed our voyage; arriving, without accident; at Bance Island, which I have previously noticed, on the 22d of the same month. My residence was confined to this island, and in excursions through the neighbouring countries, until the 4th June, 1806, during which period, and from a general intercourse with an extended circle of chiefs, natives, and traders, I have been enabled to decide upon the situation of this country, and to form a conclusive opinion of the condition and character of its inhabitants, and its commercial resources. From these sources of intelligence, and the example this island displayed, with observations upon the conduct and management of the Sierra Leone company, I first conceived the system that I shall hereafter delineate, upon which the African's condition may be effectually improved, and his hereditary slavery exterminated. [Illustration: BANCE ISLAND, in the RIVER SIERRA LEONE. _The Property of John & Alexander Anderson Esq. London._] The natives of Africa resident upon the coast, are uniformly considered as more ferocious and barbarous in their customs and manners, less numerous in population, and more encroaching and deceitful, than those of the interior. While this formidable opposition exists, and the baneful influence of barbarous habits continues, it is in vain to look to remuneration by natural commerce, or to the establishment of civilization. The African's barbarity must be first here assailed, and the infinite resources upon the coasts and maritime rivers must be developed to his view, to pre-dispose him to refine his condition, and adopt the civilized habits of life; nor is there any site which I have met with upon the Windward Coast of Africa, more calculated to promote this beneficent undertaking, than the island of Bance, from its locality of situation, being central to windward and leeward operation, commanding an extensive circle of interior country, and being long established in the estimation of the natives of an extended district. But more of this subject in order. CHAPTER V. _Observations upon the natural Productions of the River Sierra Leone.--The Author explores its Branches, interior to Bance Island, the Rochelle, and the Port Logo.--The Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants.--Their Commerce.--The Author's safe Arrival at Miffaré._ The river of Sierra Leone abounds in fish, and the spermaceti whale has been occasionally found, the shark, the porpoise, eels, mackarel, mullet, snappers, yellow tails, cavillos, tenpounders, &c. with the _mannittee_, a singular mass of shapeless flesh, having much the taste of beef, which the natives greatly esteem, and consider the highest offering they can make. Oysters are found in great abundance, attached to the interwoven twigs and branches of the mangrove tree, to which they closely cling; and of the zoophytes, there is the common sponge to be found upon the sandy beaches, on the Boolum shore, and would, no doubt, bring a high price in England. The domestic animals of the adjoining countries are, cattle, sheep, goats, hogs, ducks, turkeys, and fowls, very inferior, however, to those in Europe. The beasts of prey are, lions, leopards, hyaenas, wild hogs in abundance, squirrels, monkies, antelopes, &c. with the civet and zibeth cats, and a most extraordinary animal, which is found in the mountains of Sierra Leone and the adjacent countries, a species of the ourang outang, called by the natives, japanzee, or chimpanzee, but approaching nearer to the anatomy of the human frame than the former animal. Some of them, when full grown, are nearly 5 feet, and are covered with black hair, long on the back, but thin and short upon the belly and breast; the face is quite bare, and the hands and feet resemble those of man; its countenance is remarkably grave, similar to that of an old black man, but its ears are straight; it will imitate a human being in walking, sleeping, eating, and drinking, and is certainly a most singular production of nature. Surgeon Burrowes, whom I have before mentioned, had a perfect skeleton of this animal, which, he assured me, differed in nothing from the human, but in the spine, it being curved. This skeleton, I believe, now forms a part of the collection of Surgeon-General Keate. There are, of amphibious animals, green turtles, hawk's bills, and loggerheads, which grow to a great size, some of them weighing several hundred pounds, land turtles, fresh water turtles, alligators, extremely voracious, and from 12 to 15 feet in length; they will swallow a man, and at Bance Island Negro boys have been frequently snatched up by them from the shore. There are also a variety of the lizard species, with the guava, and camelion. Snakes abound; some of them haunt the houses in the night, and prowl about for poultry, of which they are fond; some have been found to measure above 18 feet; and I have the skin of one in my possession, killed when young, above 10 feet in length; it is that species which swallows its prey entire; several animals were found in their perfect state when the one I allude to was cut open. There is also an immense animal of this species, which I have heard the natives of this part of the coast describe, often exceeding 30 feet in length, and of an enormous size; it is variegated with spots, and the head is covered with scales; the tongue is fleshy and forked, but its bite is not poisonous; it is to be found in the recesses of caves and thickets, from whence it suddenly darts upon its victim, whether man or beast: it frequently chooses a tree, from which it reconnoitres the passing objects, supporting itself by the tail, which it twists round the trunk or branches: when it seizes animals, especially those of the larger kind, such as lions, tigers, &c. it dexterously, and almost instantaneously twists itself round their bodies in several folds, and by its powerful muscular force, breaks the bones, and bruises it in all its parts; when this is done it covers the animal with a viscous cohesive saliva, by licking its body with its tongue, which facilitates the power of swallowing it entire; this process is tedious, and it gradually sucks in the body, which, if large, renders it incapable of moving for some time, until it digests; and this is the period which the hunters watch to destroy it: it makes a hissing noise like a serpent, and has recourse to a variety of expedients to conceal itself; it is called by the natives _Tinnui_, and is what I apprehend naturalists term the species of _Boa constrictor_: it is most commonly found in the sultry climates of Africa, and I believe is also an inhabitant of Asia and America. Insects are extremely numerous, of a nondescript species, and exceedingly beautiful: the most singular are termites, destructive to houses and fences built of wood; ants, causing ruin to provisions; cockroaches and crickets, destroying leather, linen, and clothes; musquitos, sand-flies, centipedes, scorpions; and wild bees, which are very productive of honey. The vermis and large barnacles abound, which are so destructive to shipping without copper bottoms. Esculent vegetables are various: Rice, which forms the chief part of the African's sustenance. The rice-fields or _lugars_ are prepared during the dry season, and the seed is sown in the tornado season, requiring about four or five months growth to bring it to perfection. Yams, a nutritious substance, known in the West Indies. _Cassada_ or _cassava_, a root, of a pleasant taste when roasted or boiled, and makes an excellent cake, superior in whiteness to flour. Papaw, of a deep green in its growth, but yellqw when ripe, and is an excellent dish when boiled; its leaves are frequently used by the natives for soap; ropes are made of the bark. Oranges and limes are in great abundance, and of superior quality, throughout the year; but lemons degenerate much in their growth, and in a few years are scarcely to be distinguished from the latter. Guavas, pumpkins, or pumpions, squash water mellons, musk mellons, and cucumbers, grow in the greatest perfection. The pumpkins grow in wild exuberance throughout the year, and make a good pudding or pie. Indian corn, or maize, may be reaped several times throughout the year, only requiring about three months growth. Millet, with a multiplicity too tedious to enumerate. Sugar canes are not very abundant, but are of a good quality, which, under careful management and industry, would, no doubt, yield productive returns. Coffee trees, of different nondescript species, only requiring the same interference. Dyes, of infinite variety and superior texture: yellow is procured from the butter and tallow tree, producing a juice resembling gamboge, but more cohesive, and of a darker colour; the wood of this tree is firm, and adapted to a variety of purposes; its fruit is about the size of a tennis ball, nearly oval, thick in the rind, and of a pleasant acid taste, containing several seeds about the size of a walnut, and yielding a viscous substance used by the natives in their food. Red and black are procured from a variety of other trees and plants; and indigo growing in wild exuberance, particularly in the rivers more to the northward. Cotton, in great varieties, requiring only cultivation to raise it to perfection and amount. The natives manufacture from it a narrow cloth, which is made from thread, spun in a manner similar to the distaff. A species of silk cotton, or ether down, is produced on a large tree, called the pullam tree. The quantity which the usual size bears may be computed at about 4 cwt. in pods of 6 to 9 inches long, 4-1/2 in circumference, and about 1-1/2 inch in diameter, which, upon being exposed to the heat of the sun, is distended to an incredible bulk. It is much superior to down for the couch, and, from its elasticity, might be of great utility in the manufacture of hats. This tree is in great estimation among the Africans, and is frequently regarded by them as their _Fetish_. Every town almost has a tree of this species towering over its huts, which its chief tells the traveller with exultation he or his father planted. Tobacco is uncertain, but I entertain very little doubt that it might be raised upon the more luxuriant soils. Pepper, more particularly near Cape Mount, of several sorts, Maboobo, Massaaba, Massa, Amquona, Tosan, &c.; the three first are of a weaker flavour, and are oblong and angular in their seeds; but the last excels in pungency, and is the native Malaguetta pepper of Africa. The bread-fruit tree, is similar in appearance to the apple tree, and grows in the low sandy situations of the Boolum shore, producing a fruit exceedingly nutritious, and larger than an apple. Tamarinds in great variety and plenty: the velvet tamarind abounds in the Bananas, also the white and brown; but the latter are most in esteem, and are very fine. Okras, the fruit of a small tree, resembling the English mallows, which put into soup gives it a gelatine quality, highly alimental; the leaves make a good spinage. The palm tree, producing the oil so denominated, is one of the most useful trees to the African, yielding him meat, drink, and raiment. Where it grows, it is an indication of a good soil. It is remarkably tall, without branches, having regular and gradual protuberances, from the bottom towards the top, ending in five or six clusters of nuts, shaded by large deciduous leaves. The nuts, which are about the size of a hazle nut, have a hard kernel, encompassed by a clammy unctuous substance, covered by a thin skin, and the oil is produced from them by being exposed to the sun, which, by its influence, opens the juices; subsequent to this exposure, the nuts are put into a boiler full of water, and a liquid, in the process of boiling, flows upon the top, which when skimmed off, soon hardens and turns rancid; the kernel of the nut, after this process, is taken out of the boiler, beat in a paloon, and put into clear water, the shell of the nut sinks, and its contents float upon the surface, which, when skimmed as before, is finally put into a pot, fried, and carefully poured off, producing another kind of oil, used as butter, and having in a great degree its quality. The wine is extracted from the tree by forming an incision at the bottom of every cluster of nuts, from each of which flows about a gallon of wine per day, for a week, when they are closed until the ensuing season. The liquid, when newly taken from the tree, resembles whey, and in that state has a sweetish agreeable taste, but it soon ferments and grows sour, changing to a strong vinegar of a disagreeable smell: in its fermented state it is most esteemed by the natives, and is productive of inebriety. A substance overtops the clusters about 10 or 12 inches in diameter, and 3 or 4 feet in height, in a full grown tree, from whence proceeds a stalk, about 4 inches in length, which, on being boiled in water, makes an excellent vegetable resembling cabbage, or rather, in taste, the cauliflower; the leaves of the tree are converted by the natives into baskets, fishing nets, and cloth. MEDICINAL PLANTS. _Colla_ is highly esteemed by the natives, and they attribute to it the virtues of Peruvian bark; the Portuguese, ascribe the same quality to it, and dispatch from their factories small vessels to collect all they can procure. _Castor Oil Rhinum_.-The bush which produces the bud from which this oil and valuable medicine is extracted, grows in great exuberance upon the Windward Coast, and its vicinity. A species of bark is in great abundance also, and is said to be equal in virtue to the Peruvian. The foregoing enumeration of natural productions, is the result of unscientific enquiry only; but unquestionably, industrious and professional research, would discover infinitely more to philosophic and commercial contemplation, and develope the arcana of nature, dormant here through ignorance and barbarism. On the 10th of May, I set out from Bance Island, with the view of exploring the two branches of the Sierra Leone river, the Rochelle, and the Port Logo. After rowing a few hours I arrived at the factory of Miffaré, formerly occupied by a Mr. Berauld, a Frenchman, but now attached to Bance Island. Mr. Hodgkin, with his people, then in possession of the factory, accompanied me up the Port Logo branch the following morning, taking a number of towns in our way, and visiting the chiefs. The course of this branch of the river is extremely serpentine, and is navigable for light vessels to a little way from the town of Port Logo which is now the residence of Alimami, a Mandingo chief, who assumes the title of emperor. The banks are overgrown with the mangrove tree, interwoven together, so as to form an almost impenetrable thicket, excluding the air, which, with the extreme heat of the sun, and the noxious insects which are extracted by its rays from the swamps and woods, renders this navigation intolerably oppressive. The chief part of its trade is in slaves, camwood, and ivory, the latter, however, being small, although Port Logo commands a very extensive back country. When we came near the town of Port Logo, which is extremely difficult of approach at low water, we announced our visit by saluting in the manner of this country, which is what they call bush firing, or in other words is a continued irregular firing of musquetry. It was soon discovered who we were, and crowds of natives flocked down from the upper town, which is situated on the declivity of a hill, to give us service, or to pay their respects. Our first visit was to _Marriba_, one of Alimami's head men, and a resident of what they consider the lower town. Upon our arrival at Marriba's house, we found him at his devotions in the palaver-house, a shed under which the natives daily assemble to pray, or discuss public affairs. He received us with every demonstration of regard, and immediately offered his services to conduct us to Alimami. The old chief preceded us, with his long gold-headed cane, and our rear was brought up by a number of armed men, who had assembled to give us a favourable reception. Our salute had pleased Alimami, and being before known to him, he was determined to shew us every respect. The heat of the sun was almost intolerable, and before we arrived at the top of the hill where the imperial palace stood, I was nearly exhausted. The entrance to this large square of irregular mud buildings, is through a narrow passage or gate, forming an oblong square of mud, covered with thatch, and facing Alimami's house: we were ushered through this by one of his head men, and proceeded in the order we set out to Alimami, who was seated at the top of the square, surrounded by his chiefs, upon a mat spread upon a raised bank of mud, dressed in a turban, after the Turkish fashion, and a loose manding, robe, or shirt. Several pleaders were haranguing two of his judges, who were seated at a distance, in palaver, or council, to take cognizance of a dispute relative to some slaves; and although our arrival had excited the-curiosity of every inhabitant of the town, yet we passed the tribunal without interruption, their attention being absorbed on the subject of their sitting. The whole compass of the square was scarcely equal to contain their oratory, their voices being so extremely loud as to be heard distinctly, without the walls, accompanied by menacing attitudes. Passing this declamatory assembly, we paid our obeisance to Alimami, who was graciously pleased to receive us in the manner of his country, with great civilities, and immediately spread mats for us with his own hands, near himself. It was impossible, although accustomed to these people, to contemplate the surrounding objects without interest. I had previously been acquainted with this chief at Bance Island, where he was in a high degree restrained by European manners; but here, every thing was native and original. All came to give us service, which is performed as I have mentioned. A goat and a couple of fowls were next presented for our dinners, for which an offering more valuable was expected, and of course complied with. This mutual interchange of civilities being fulfilled, our attention was excited by the orators, who by this time were extremely clamorous; one of them, with an aspect the most furious, ran up to where I was seated, and addressing Alimami, said, "that as proof his palaver be good, white man come to give him service while he address him on the subject of his demand;" attaching to that circumstance, the superstitious idea that he was right, and that I was his _fetish_ to establish that right. I then enquired of Alimami the nature of the trial; he replied, "these men tell their story, I appoint two judges to hear them, who are to report to me what they say, and their opinions of the matter, but I hear all that already and they cannot tell me wrong: I then give judgment," Or in other words more expressive of his meaning; these men make their complaint to my head men, or the judges I have appointed to hear it; it is their business to make me a true report, and give me their opinion on the merits of the case; and although I am not now supposed to hear it, yet I am so situated as to hear the whole, and can thereby check any corrupt practices in the judges. I had now leisure to examine the interior of Alimami's residence; it consisted of a square of irregular buildings, thatched with bamboo, and covered with roofs, supported by pillars of wood, at about 6 feet distance, projecting about the same number of feet beyond the skeleton of the fabric, and forming a kind of palisado, which serves as a shade for retirement from the heat of the sun, and under which, the inhabitants indulge in repose, or sit in familiar intercourse. During my conversation with Alimami, his brother, a fat jolly fellow, was reposing himself upon his mat, reading his Arabic prayer book, which, upon examination, I found executed in a neat character, and from his interpretation, was a record of fabulous anecdotes of his family, and containing confused extracts from the Koran. The Mandingos are professed Mahomedans, whose influence is spreading with so much rapidity on this part of the coast, that several of the other tribes have submitted to their authority; so strong an impression has their superior attainments and book-knowledge imprinted on their minds. In no instance can their growing influence appear more conspicuous than in that of Alimami being vested with authority over the Port Logo, of which he is not a native, and over a people originally infidels. Formerly this tribe of Mandingos were itinerant _fetish_ makers and priests, but now they are numerous to the northward of Sierra Leone, from whence a wide district receives their rulers and chieftains. After an audience of considerable length, Alimami retired with several of his chiefs, and soon after I had a message that he wished to see me in another part of his dwelling. I had previously noticed to him that I intended shortly to embark for my country. When conducted to his presence, he very emphatically enquired "if what I tell him be true?" I replied "it was; but that I go to do him and his countrymen good; that he know this was the second time I look them, but never forget them." "We all know that," he replied, "but white man that come among us, never stay long time; you be good man, and we wish you live among us--How many moon you be gone from us?"--"About ten moon; how would you like to go with me, Alimami?"--"I like that much, but black man not be head enough to do what white man does;" and putting his hand to his bosom, he took from it a piece of gold in the form of a heart; and said, "take that for me." To have refused it would have been an insult; I therefore accepted it; adding, "that I would tie it to fine riband, and wear it when I look my country, to let Englishmen see what fine present he make me." He was quite pleased with the idea, and expressed his satisfaction with great fervency. Soon after, I offered to take my leave, and was accompanied by him and his chiefs to the gate, where I bade him adieu, and passed through the town, paying my respects to its inhabitants, and among others, to the schoolmaster, whose venerable appearance, and superior intelligence, excited my respect and esteem. Upon our return to Marriba's house, we were happy to partake of a country mess of rice, boiled with fowls, palm oil, and other compounds. The chief could not be prevailed to eat with us, but attended us with great assiduity during our meal. The imperial guard accompanied us to our canoe, and we returned to Miffaré without accident. The following morning we proceeded to the branch of the Rochell, which we found more diversified and picturesque than the Port Logo, and its borders better inhabited. Proceeding up this branch, and visiting the chiefs in our way, and the inhabitants of a number of villages, we arrived at Billy Manshu's Town, a little chief of very considerable intelligence, and who treated us with great hospitality: here we slept. We arose early, and pursued our course up the branch, passing one of the most regular built towns I have observed in Africa, now Morrey Samba's, but formerly Morrey Bunda's Town. Morrey Bunda was originally a Manding, and _fetish_ maker to Smart, the chief who commands an extensive country on that side of the Rochell branch towards the Sherbro, and rose into notice and influence: he is now dead. The town is surrounded by a mud wall, and at the entrance, and upon each angle of the oblong square which encloses it, there are towers erected for the purposes of defence. The wall, with the towers, completely obscures the buildings which form the town, and serve as a guard against any depredations of enemies, while it shelters the inhabitants from the effects of their arrows or musquetry. Morrey Bunda has displayed in his plans of fortifications, considerable ingenuity, considering the circumstances he had to provide against, and the predatory nature of African wars, which are uniformly to surprise the inhabitants of a village or town while asleep, or in any other unguarded state, seldom or ever coming to a general engagement in the open country, but acting under the protection of some ambush, or other place of security, which, while it is calculated to conceal their numbers, serves as a retreat from their successful opponents. Leaving Morrey Samba's we passed by a number of other villages, until we arrived at one of Smart's trading towns, called Mahera, situated upon an eminence, and commanding a most delightful prospect of the meandering course of the river, interspersed with islands, displaying a great diversity of appearance. Smart has very wisely chosen this spot, as it is not only a charming situation, healthy, and delightful, but well situated to command a very extensive internal trade in camwood and ivory, besides being contiguous to the Sherbro, from whence a great portion of the camwood is procured, and situated on the principal branch of the Sierra Leone. In addition to these local advantages, he has recently opened a path with the interior, communicating with the Foolah country, which is entirely under his influence, and which he can open and shut at pleasure. It would be of incalculable advantage to any operation to secure the friendship of this chief: he possesses a very superior mind, and, from his connection with Bance Island, has acquired a knowledge of European ideas and manners seldom to be met with among any of the chiefs on this part of the coast. From the various opportunities I have had to consult Smart on his general sentiments relative to his country, and the freedom of intercourse I have had with him, I am well persuaded that he would be a powerful and intelligent auxiliary in promoting the civilization of his country, upon a liberal principle, calculated to its condition, and having a tendency to eradicate its barbarism; but he is one, of many more upon this quarter of the coast, who have no reliance upon the attempts that have been made, and deplores, with regret, that through the want of a correct knowledge of the dispositions of his countrymen, an ignorance of the nature of the evil to be removed, and the invidious principles which constituted the establishments that have been formed to promote this beneficent undertaking, his country is still excluded from the light of truth, and the refined arts of civilized life. From Mahera we proceeded to Rochell, another of Mr. Smart's towns, more insular, where I expected to have met him, in conformity with an arrangement previously made, to visit him at his towns, and see, as he observed, his country fashion. Upon our reaching this point of our expedition, we were saluted by a numerous assemblage of chiefs and natives, going to join my friend Smart in one of his wars with his opposite neighbours and rivals, the Cammarancies, inhabiting the country towards the Port Logo. The cause of quarrel was, that these people had seized upon the rafts and canoes which brought the camwood over the falls higher up the river, and had demolished several storehouses belonging to Smart and his people, engaged in that trade. Smart, with a part of his forces, had crossed the river only an hour before, and another division were embarking to join him at a place of rendezvous upon the enemy's territory, with the intention of cautiously approaching during the night to some of their towns, and surprising them before they had arisen from sleep. Nothing could exceed the novelty of this sight; the chiefs and their followers were armed with their bows and arrows, and other rude implements of war, and completely in their native character; in addition to their native weapons, some had musquets, procured from Europeans in trade, swords, and various other manufacture, supplied by traders, exhibiting an appearance, of which no idea can be formed, without a personal knowledge of this barbarous people. The chiefs, in particular, were covered with _gris-gris_ and _fetishes_, a mixture of feathers and other preposterous materials, calculated to obliterate any trace of human appearance, and possessing the virtue, as they conceived, of shielding them from danger. Solemn _palaver_ is always held upon these occasions, and their _gris-gris_ makers, _fetish_ men, and priests, exorcise their absurd decorations, which, in their estimation, operate as guardian angels in the hour of difficulty and peril. Having occasion to visit a gentleman resident at some distance, we left our canoes at Rochell, and proceeded on foot. _Cabba_, one of the chiefs, accompanied us with a guard, being apprehensive, as he observed, that "bad might happen us, as war live in the country." We passed through a remarkably fertile country, presenting an infinite variety of natural productions. Our path was frequently lined with pine-apples, in all the luxuriance of nature; but amidst this animating landscape, we beheld deserted villages, ravaged by the ferocious hand of man; and all the traces of barbarous devastation. We fell in with several armed parties, with whom I conversed upon the subject of the war, which appeared to be of a predatory nature, and the consequence of insatiate avarice and barbarous habits. At length we arrived, much fatigued, at Mr. Green's (at Massou), with whom we rested for the night, receiving every kindness and attention in his power to bestow. I am indebted to this gentleman for a variety of useful information relative to a wide extent of country. His education and acquirements are of the first class, and I could not view such a man, insulated from polished society, which he was qualified to adorn, and shut up in the wilds of Africa, among barbarians, without a mixture of pain and surprise; nor did I depart from him without sympathy and regret, after he had confided to me his motives, and the outlines of his life, which were marked with eventful incidents, and extraordinary occurrences. It was my object to have proceeded from Massou to Rocond, the principal town of Smart's residence, and from thence to penetrate to the falls of the river, which, from every information I received, exhibit a sublime scene; but, on account of the disturbed state of the country, and that chiefs absence, I was obliged to give up my intention, and return to Rochell, from whence we rowed down the river to the town of our little hospitable chief, Billy Manshu; where we stayed the night. The following day we arrived safe at Miffaré; and although Smart had given orders at Mahera to stop all canoes, we were suffered to pass; the chiefs observing, "that they knew we would not tell their enemies, when we came among them, what we saw them do." Had we been strangers, it is more than probable we should have fallen victims to the fury of these barbarians, who, in the towns we passed, were excited to a savage fierceness, highly descriptive of the natural ferocity of the African character. At Miffaré, formerly occupied by Monsieur Berauld, as previously noticed, who had lately paid the common debt of nature, and who was here buried by his own desire, I had the opportunity of ascertaining a singular custom prevalent in this country towards the dead, and which strongly elucidates the prevailing ideas of its inhabitants, relative to the immortality of the soul and a future state. After Monsieur Berauld's interment, his women, and the head people of the town, assembled round the grave occasionally, for a series of days, requiring every evening, from Mr. Hodgkin, a candle to light his grave, which they kept burning during the period of their mourning, under the idea that it would light him in the other world. In addition to this, a still more singular rite was performed on this occasion, by Alimami, of the Port Logo, and a numerous assemblage of natives, who sacrificed a bull to the departed spirit of Berauld, who was held in great estimation among them. From authority I cannot doubt, I am persuaded that when slaves have been redundant, human sacrifices have been offered to the manes of their favourite chiefs and princes. This horrid custom, which is even extended, in many of the districts of Africa, to the productions of the earth, is a most serious subject to contemplate, and a feature of barbarism, pregnant with melancholy consequences to that class of beings, whom a late legislative act has abandoned to contingencies, and the uncontrolled power and avarice of other nations. CHAPTER VI. _Return to Bance Island.--General Observations on the Commerce, Religion, Customs, and Character of the Natives upon the Windward Coast.--An Account of the requisite Merchandize for Trade, the best Mode of introducing natural Commerce and Civilization into Africa, &c._ The morning after my last arrival at Miffaré I returned to Bance Island; before I leave it, it may not perhaps be considered as inexpedient at this stage of my narrative, to submit to my readers an account of the present state of commerce upon the Windward Coast of Africa, the merchandize used therein, a general outline of the religion, customs, and character of its natives, and the system I conceive eligible, and consistent with the claims of humanity, by which their intellectual powers may be improved, and their enslaved state ameliorated; while our commercial ascendency may be preserved with this region of the earth, and our enemies excluded from those important advantages, which it only requires intelligence and enterprise to unfold. In accomplishing this important part of my duty I beg leave to state, that my reflections are the result of much deliberation upon the subject, derived from manifold sources of information, and that I am the zealous advocate of the radical abolition of the slavery of the human kind. The motives by which I am actuated are, a philanthropic feeling for my species, Christian principles, humanity, and justice: however I may differ, in the means I shall propose, from many truly benevolent characters, yet I trust that they will do me the justice to consider that my intentions are congenial with theirs in the cause of humanity. I shall confine myself to a digested summary of actual observations on the trade, laws, customs, and manners of the people I have had occasion to visit; nor shall I attempt to enter into a minute detail on subjects already ably delineated to British merchants, and with which they are intimately conversant; but I shall treat of those branches of commerce which have been hitherto confined to local knowledge, and not generally known; submitting to the superior powers of the legislature, the incalculable advantages to be derived by their interference to promote the agricultural and commercial establishments upon the maritime districts of Africa, as the only appropriate measure to attain a facility of intercourse with the interior, and to enlarge the circle of civilised society. If my endeavours tend to increase the commerce of my country, and eventually to emancipate the African, my design will be accomplished, and my fondest hopes will be gratified. In pursuance of my plan, I shall first detail the present number of slaves, and dead cargo, annually exported, upon an average, from the Windward Coast of Africa, &c. from the information acquired from the traders of most intelligence in respective rivers, and from my own observation. | | | | | | | |Amount | | | | | | | |Sterling | NAMES OF PLACES |A |B |C |D |E |F | £ |---------------------|-------|----|----|------|----|----|--------- |River Gambia, and | | | | | | | |Island of Goree . . .| 2,000 | 15 |-- |-- |150 |-- | 60,250 |Rio Noonez. . . . . .| 600 | 20 |-- |-- |-- |-- | 19,000 |Rio Pongo . . . . . .| 2,000 | 30 |60 |-- |-- |-- | 52,000 |River Sierra Leone, | | | | | | | |adjacent Rivers, | | | | | | | |and Isles de Loss, | 3,200 | 15 |200 |800 |-- |-- | 82,250 |inclusive . . . . . .| | | | | | | |River Sherbro . . . .| 500 |-- |200 |300 |-- |-- | 18,000 |---- Gallunas. . . .| 1,200 |-- | 80 |-- |-- |-- | 26,000 |Cape Mount to | | | | | | | |Cape Palmas . . . . .| 2,000 | 20 |-- |-- |-- |100 | 48,000 | |-------|----|----|------|----|----|-------- | |11,500 |100 |540 |1,100 |150 |100 |305,500 A-Slaves, B-Ivory, C-Camwood, D-Rice, E-Bees Wax, F-Malaguetta Pepper Estimating slaves at 20_l_. each; ivory, 350_l_.; camwood, 25_l_.; rice, 10_l_.; wax, 100_l_.; and Malaguetta pepper, 10_l_. per ton, at first cost upon the coast of Africa; the whole produces the sum of 305,500_l_. sterling; to which may be added a three-fold export to leeward, which will make an aggregate amount of nearly _one million_ sterling. In addition to the foregoing exemplification, we have to contemplate the great multiplicity of natural productions, abounding in this extent of region, namely, indigo, numerous plants for staining, cotton in wild exuberance, cocoa, coffee, and aromatic plants, &c. &c. Wild bees are so extremely numerous, that wax forms an important article of trade which might be considerably increased; substances proper for making soap are also to be found in great abundance, raw hides, more especially in the Gambia, and the countries insular to the Rio Noonez and Rio Pongo; gold is procured from Bambouk, and tobacco is found in every direction, which might be greatly increased by cultivation and an improved soil; cattle, poultry, Guinea hens, different species of game, fish, with other animals; fruits, and a variety of vegetable productions, calculated to satisfy every luxurious want and desire. To these objects of commerce may be added, the now important article of sugar, which might be raised to a great amount, in various districts of Africa, as the climate is propitious to the growth of the sugarcane, which, under proper cultivation, might be raised in great perfection. The lands upon the banks of the Gambia, the Rio Noonez, the Rio Grande, the Rio Pongo, in the Mandingo country, Sierra Leone, Sherbro, &c. are universally allowed to be extremely fertile in many places, and abundant in vegetation and population. These countries produce various hard woods, well adapted to cabinet work and ship building, and are singular in their qualites and properties. The most remarkable are, 1st. the cevey, or kinney wood, which grows about the size of the oak, in England, and may be cut into planks of 20 feet by 15 inches. Its texture is something of the ash grey and mahogany, variegated with stripes, fancifully disposed, and is therefore adapted to cabinet work; its qualities for ship building are peculiar, having the virtue of resisting the worm and vermis, so destructive to shipping in tropical climates, and corroding iron; it grows in great abundance. Any quantity of this wood put into water sufficient to cover it, will, in a few hours, produce an unctuous substance floating on the top, resembling verdigrise, and of a poisonous quality. Secondly, the dunjay wood, rather coarser in the grain, but harder in quality than the Spanish Bay mahogany. It possesses the same peculiarities as the cevey or kinney, in resisting the worm in salt water, and corroding iron. It may be procured in any quantity. And, Thirdly, the melley wood, or _gris-gris_ tree, another species of mahogany, abundant in growth, having a more rare quality than the foregoing, resisting the worm in both salt and fresh water; it is extremely hard, and its juices so poisonous, in the premature state, as to cause instant death. The manifold and neglected productions of this extraordinary continent require only to be developed, and when the useful arts of Europe are introduced here, ample recompense will attend the benevolent undertaking, natural history will be much enlarged, and mankind be greatly benefited. The claims of humanity, the distinguished part it has taken in an unnatural and much to be deplored commerce, loudly unite with a wise policy, in one impressive appeal to the feelings of the more refined inhabitants of Europe, and to none more than those of Englishmen. The goods adapted to African commerce are, _East India goods_--consisting of bafts, byrampauats, chilloes, romals, neganipauts, niccanees, red and blue chintz, Guinea stuffs, bandanoes, sastracundies, &c. _Manchester goods_.--Cotton chilloes, cushtaes, neganipauts, photaes, romal handkerchiefs, silk handkerchiefs, &c. _Linen Britanias_, slops, spirits, tobacco, guns, swords, trade chests, cases, jars, powder, umbrellas, boats, canvas, cordage, pitch, tar, paints, oil, and brushes, empty kegs, kettles, pans, lead basons, earthenware, hardware, beads, coral, iron bars, lead bars, common caps, Kilmarnock ditto, flints, pipes, leg and hand manilloes, snuff boxes, tobacco boxes, cargo hats, fine ditto, hair trunks, knives, looking glasses, scarlet cloth, locks, shot, glass ware, stone ware, provisions, bottled ale and porter, &c. &c. The foregoing general enumeration may serve to convey a just conception of the various manufactures requisite in the African trade, and the different branches to which it is allied, yeilding support to a numerous body of merchants, manufacturers, artizans, and many of the labouring class of the community. Generally speaking, the Africans are unacquainted with specie as a circulating medium of commerce, although they form to themselves an ideal standard, by which they estimate the value of the commodities in barter; this, however, fluctuates on various parts of the coast. From Senegal to Cape Mesurado, the medium of calculation is termed a _bar_; from thence to the eastward of Cape Palmas, the computation is in _rounds_; and on the Gold Coast in _ackies_ of gold, equal to 4_l_. sterling, and of trade only half that value. At Goree the bar, under the French, was 4, pieces of 24 sous, and 1 of 6; but at present the bar is considered a dollar. The bar is by no means a precise value, but subject to much variation; the quantity and quality of the articles materially differing in many parts of the coast, and frequently on rivers of a near vicinity; for example, six heads of tobacco are equal in trade to a bar, as is a gallon of rum, or a fathom of chintz. A piece of cloth which, in one place, will only pass for 6 bars, will in others fluctuate to 10; hence the trader must form an average standard, to reduce his assortment to an equilibrium. The following are the barter prices now established throughout a considerable extent of the Windward Coast; but it is to be observed, they are subject to fluctuation from locality of situation and other circumstances. 1 blue baft 6 bars 1 bonny chintz & stripe 8 1 white baft 6 1 byrampaut 6 1 chilloe 6 1 bijudapaut 6 1 cushtae 5 1 bonny blue romal 5 1 niccanee 5 1 sastracundie 4 1 India cherridery 6 1 taffety 15 1 cottanee 12 1 dozen britannias 8 1 piece of bandanas 6 1 barrel of powder 60 1 fowling gun 8 1 burding 6 1 soldier's gun 5 bars 1 buccanier ditto 6 1 dozen of cutlasses 8 1 sword blade 2 1 iron bar 1 1000 arangoes 30 1 bunch of point beads 1 1 bunch of mock coral 1 Red pecado 3lb. for 1 Seed beads, ditto 1 Battery ditto 1 1 Mandingo kettle 1 1 dozen of hardware 3 1 bason 1 1 ton of salt 60 1 fine hat 3 Tobacco, 6lb. to 1 Rum, per gallon 1 Prime ivory is procured at a bar per lb, and _escrevals_, or pieces under 20lb. 1 bar for each 1-1/2lb. As the natives are unacquainted with arithmetic, their numerical calculations are carried on by counters of pebbles, gun-flints, or cowries. After the number of bars is decided upon, a counter, or pebble, &c. is put down, representing every bar of merchandize, until the whole is exhausted, when the palaver is finished; and, as they have very little idea of the value of time, they will use every artifice of delay and chicane to gain a bar. In matters of less consequence they reckon with their fingers, by bending the little finger of the right hand close to the palm, and the other fingers in succession, proceeding to the left hand, concluding the calculation by clapping both the hands together; and if it requires to be extended, the same process is repeated. Among the Foulahs in particular, commercial transactions are carried on with extreme tardiness; a _palaver_ is held over every thing they have for barter. The season in which they chiefly bring their trade to the coast is during the dry months, and they generally travel in caravans, under the control of a chief or head man. The head man of the party expects to be lodged and accommodated by the factor, and before they enter upon business, he expects the latter _to give him service_, or a present of kola, Malaguetta pepper, tobacco, palm oil, and rice; if they eat of the kola, and the present is not returned, the head man begins the trade, by making a long speech, in which he magnifies the difficulties and dangers he has had to surmount, &c.; mutual interpreters report this harangue. The trade for rice is settled with little delay, but every tooth of ivory requires a new palaver, and they will dispute for a whole day for a bar with the most determined firmness. When the palaver and trade is gone through, they again expect a present, and if they are pleased with the factor, they march off singing his praises, which they communicate to all they meet on the road. The annual return from this commerce in colonial productions, has been from _two_ to _three millions sterling_; for although large remittances have been made in bills to the African merchants, yet these bills have been provided for in produce by the planters. Politically considered, it will appear, that its regeneration might have been more appropriately the progressive work of time; and humanely viewed, it will also appear, from my subsequent remarks, that by those means alone the African can be freed from his shackles, and his condition efficaciously improved. But to proceed with the intention of this chapter, I shall next make some remarks on the religion, customs, and character of the natives of the Windward Coast. The natives on this part of the coast, and indeed throughout Africa, are in general extremely superstitious; they believe in witchcraft, incantations, and charms, and in certain Mahomedan doctrines, adopted from itinerant devotees and priests of that persuasion, who are numerous among them, and make a trade of selling charms. The Baggoes, Nellos, Susees, Timinees, &c. occasionally worship and offer sacrifices to the Devil, and are equally confused in their conception of the Supreme Being, of whose attributes they entertain an assemblage of indistinct ideas, of which it is impossible to give any clear description. They will tell the traveller with great apathy, "they never saw him, and if he live he be too good to hurt them." Their acts of devotion are the consequence of fear alone, and are apparently divested of any feelings of thankfulness or gratitude for the blessing they receive from the good Spirit which they suppose to exist. The Devil, or evil spirit, which they suppose to exist also, claims their attention from the injury they suppose him capable of inflicting, and is worshipped under a variety of forms; at one time in a grove, or under the shade of a large tree, consecrated to his worship, they place, for the gratification of his appetite; a _country mess_, a goat, or other offering of this nature, which they may conceive to be acceptable to his divinity, who, however, is often cozened out of the offering by some sacreligious and more corporeal substance, to whose nature and wants it is more congenial; at some periods great faith is attached to their _fetish_, as an antidote against evil; and at others the alligator, the snake, the guava, and a number of other living animals and inanimate substances are the objects of their worship. Like other unenlightened nations, a variety of external beings supply the want of the principles of Christianity; hence the counterfeit adoption and substitution of corporate qualities as objects of external homage and reverence. _Fetish_, derived from the word _Feitico_, denotes witchcraft among the majority of the maritime nations of Africa: this superstition is even extended to some Europeans after a long residence in that country, and is an expression of a compound meaning, forming an arrangement of various figures, which constitute the objects of adoration, whether intellectually conceived, or combined with corporeal substances; even the act of devotion itself; or the various charms, incantations, and buffoonery of the priests and fetish makers, who abound among them. In short, it is an incongruous composition of any thing dedicated to the purpose; one kind of fetish is formed of a piece of parchment containing an expression or sentence from the Koran, which is associated with other substances, sewed up in a piece of leather, and worn upon several parts of their bodies. Another kind is placed over the doors of their huts, composed of distorted images besmeared with palm oil, and stuck with feathers, some parts are tinged with blood, and the whole is bedaubed with other preposterous applications. _Ghresh_, or _Gresh_, is an expression in the Arabic tongue, meaning to expel or drive away, and, as I apprehend, by the repetition of the word, is the expression from which the African _gris-gris_ is derived, consisting of exorcised feathers, cloth, &c., short sentences from the Koran, written on parchment, and enclosed in small ornamented leathern cases, worn about their persons, under the idea that it will keep away evil spirits, and is a species of _fetish_. The Mandingos, or book-men, are great _fetish_ makers, many of them being well versed in the Arabic tongue, and writing it in a neat character. From the impression of their superior learning and address, their influence and numbers daily increase, many of them having become rulers and chiefs in places where they sojourned as strangers, The religion they profess in common with the Foolahs, Jolliffs, and other Mahomedan tribes, is peculiarly adapted to the sensual effiminacy of the Africans: the doctrines of Mahomet contained in their book I have procured from a very intelligent chief in the Rio Pongo, and when I compare his account with others of his nation on this part of the coast, the Foolahs, and the Mahomedan tribes in the vicinity of the Island of Goree, I am persuaded the following is the portion of the Islam faith believed by them. 1st. That God is above all, and not born of woman. 2d. That Mahomet stands between God and man, to intercede for him; that he is superior to all beings born of woman, and is the favorite of God. And, 3d. That he has prepared for the meanest of his followers and believers _seventy-two bouris_, or black-eyed girls of superior beauty, who are to administer to all their pleasures, and participate with them in the enjoyment of the fountains and groves of paradise, and in the gratification of those appetites congenial to their nature and existence in this world. This nearly amounts to the entire belief of Mahomet's doctrine, which is nothing but a compound of this eternal truth and necessary fiction; namely, "that there is only one God, and Mahomet is the apostle of God:" from hence, in the idiom of the Koran, the belief of God is inseparable from the apostolic character of Mahomet. The fertile and politic imagination of this impostor admirably adapted his tenets to the prevailing and established customs; he tolerates polygamy, &c. and to add to the sanctity of his pernicious doctrines, he represents himself as having been visited by the angel Gabriel, in the cave of Hera, where he communicated to him the precepts of the Koran, in the month of Ramadan, which he enjoins as a fast; he interdicts wine, and inculcates the necessity of praying five times a day, facing the holy city, &c.; forming together a system of the most insidious character towards the establishment of pure Christianity. In the performance of the duties of their belief, the Mahomedan nations of Africa, upon the coast, are exact and scrupulous, but they have no idea of the intellectual doctrines of the Islam faith, or the happiness described by Mahomet as enjoyed by superior saints in the beatitude of vision; they are as perplexed on this subject as they are in their conceptions of the divine nature, and discover a surprising contraction of mental powers, when considered as human beings endowed with reason. The nations, upon the Windward Coast, are in general little influenced by belief in their actions. Forgiveness of injuries they conceive incompatible with the nature of man; and a spirit of retaliation is very prevalent and hereditary, descending in succession from father to son. They are extremely jealous of white men, designing, ferocious, and cowardly; but there are, notwithstanding, a great variety of localities existing among them, and it will be found that their climate and habits are closely assimilated. To the Africans, the indispensible articles of life are reduced to a very narrow compass, and they are unacquainted with the insatiate wants of Europeans. The heat of the climate renders cloathing an incumberance, and occasions a carelessness with regard to their dwellings: for the former, they require only a stripe of linen, and their _gris-gris_; while a building of mud, covered with an interwoven and thatched roof, forms the latter, which is reared with little labour, and, when circumstances require it, is abandoned without much regret. The food of the Negro consists chiefly of rice, millet, &c. seasoned with palm oil, butter, or the juices of the cocoa-nut tree mixed with herbs of various kinds. They frequently regale themselves with other dishes, kous-kous, and country mess, to which they sometimes add fowls, fish, and flesh, heightened in the flavour by a variety of savory applications. A contracted system of agriculture, conducted by their women and slaves, in a very few days prepares the _lugars_, or cultivated fields; and the harvest is distributed by the elders of the community, according to the portion and wants of the society of the village, or is stored up to be portioned out as circumstances may require. Water is the ordinary drink of the Negroes; they, however, regale themselves with a wine extracted from the palm tree, as before described, which, in the luxury of indulgence, they frequently suck through a very small kind of cane, until inebriety and stupidity absorb them in a perfect state of apathy. They have also a very pleasant beverage, extracted from the cocoa nut and banana tree, besides several descriptions of beer, fermented from various roots and herbs. In the Rio Pongo, and adjacent countries, especially in the Bashia branch of that river, the Soosees extract a fermented and intoxicating liquor from a root growing in great abundance, which they call _gingingey_, something similar to the sweet potatoe in the West Indies. The distillation is commenced by forming a pit in the earth, into which a large quantity of the root is put, and covered with fuel, which is set on fire, and kept burning until the roots are completely roasted: the roots are then put into paloons, and beat, exposed afterwards in mats to the sun, by which they acquire a taste similar to honey; and are afterwards put into hampers for distillation. This is performed by making a funnel of sticks in a conical form, interwoven together like basket-work; the funnel is filled with the material, and water poured upon it; the succulent moisture therefrom passes through a tube, and yields a liquid similar in colour to coffee, and of a violent purgative quality. It remains in this state about twenty-four hours, and is then incorporated with a quantity of the ashes of rice-straw, which excites a bubbling fermentation like boiling water, after which it becomes fit for use. In forty-eight hours it returns again to its purgative state, which interval is employed in drinking most copiously, until overtaken by insensibility and intoxication. The root, in its roasted state, is an excellent medicine for colds. Indigo and cotton grow in wild exuberance almost every where, without culture, and the women collect such quantities as they consider requisite for their families, which they prepare and spin upon a distaff; the thread is woven, by an apparatus of great simplicity, into fillets, or pieces from six to nine inches broad, which are sewed together to any width, required for use. The indigo, in its indigenous state, and a variety of other plants, colour these cloths, an ell of which will serve as a dress for a Negroe of the lower class. They manufacture cloths, of a very fanciful pattern, from various substances. I have some from the rind of the cocoa-nut, of great beauty, and a fine texture; also cloth, fine mats, baskets, hats, ornaments, quivers, arrows, &c. which all prove the taste and ingenuity of the natives. The Negro is attached by love about his thirteenth year, and from sixteen to twenty he seeks the object of his affection. This choice generally continues in his confidence during life; and in proportion as he acquires wealth, he associates with her several concubines, who generally live cordially together. From this acquisition to his household, he is considered rich; and it is a common expression with the Negro to say, "such a man be rich, he have much woman." When an object excites his desire, he consults his head woman, who, without any apparent suspicion of rivalry, gives her assent, and forwards his suit; but she is displeased when not consulted; and it is not uncommon that the object falls a victim to her jealousy. Celibacy is a state almost unknown in Africa; and when it does occur, it is considered as a degradation. The Negroe's existence is almost a gratuitous gift of nature; his wants are supplied without laborious exertion, his desires are gratified without restraint, his soul remains in peaceful indolence and tranquillity, and his life glides on in voluptuous apathy and tranquil calm: he has few solicitudes or apprehensions, and he meets the stroke of fate with perfect resignation. In the countries which I have visited, and, as I understand from others, every principal village or town has its _bantaba_, or _palaver-house_, which I have before described. In this house, or under the shade of some venerable tree, all ranks occasionally assemble in groups, from sun-rising to sun-set, and pass the time in chit-chat, or in conversation on public affairs. Their subjects are inexhaustible, and their tittle-tattle is carried on with surprising volubility, gaiety, and delight; their time thus occupied is so seducing, that they separate with great reluctance, sometimes passing the entire day in this, pratling, smoaking, and diversion: night, however, terminates these amusements: They assemble in the open air during the dry season, and under the palaver-houses in the wet, where they form themselves into dancing companies, generally during half the night, and not unfrequently the whole of it. Their instruments of music are upon a very rude construction, consisting of a _tabila_, or drum, hollowed out from a piece of wood, and covered at each end with a bull's hide, producing a most barbarous noise, accompanied by a _baba_, or rattle, loud shouts, palaver, songs, and violent gesticulations, forming a system of confused uproar, unmusical, and ungraceful. Their motions are irregular, sometimes in violent contortion, and at others voluptuous and slow. Nothing can be done without a palaver; and at the change of every dance, he from whom the proposition originates, makes a solemn harangue over the musical instruments, which is generally descriptive of some warlike action or exploit, when they again give themselves up with rapture to the pleasures of the dance, the females in particular, whose actions and shew of luxuriant pleasure are highly offensive to delicacy, exhibiting all the gradations of lascivious attitude and indecency. At this period of unusual delight, they are applauded by the men with rapturous ardour; but suddenly a feeling of shame strikes the minds of the young creatures with a humiliating sense of their display, and amidst these plaudits they hastily retire to the matrons, who are spectators of the scene, and hide their blushes in their bosoms. So strongly implanted is this ingenuous and amiable modesty in youth, which is frequently laid aside when engaged in the vortex of pleasure, that it is one of the highest charms of beauty; and wretches only, degraded by debauchery and systematic vice, are capable of insulting this sentiment. A scrupulous regard to modesty and truth will not permit me to pursue the description of these amusements farther than observing, that they prepare them for a profound and tranquil sleep on their mats, from whence they arise at the dawn of day cheerful and easy. Thus infancy and youth are singularly happy, and mothers attend their offspring with maternal feeling and delight; they are neither disturbed by painful commands or restraint; and it is a picture of perfect happiness to see these children of nature in sportive groups and infantine diversion. This happy infancy and gay youth is peculiarly calculated to organise a vigorous manhood, and a firm old age; and, I am persuaded, that these are the physical causes why the Negro race are so muscular in body, and procreative of their species. In some countries innoculation is practised; but the small pox is not so common, or dreadful in its effects, in these countries as in Europe. The greatest term of their lives may be computed at from sixty to seventy years, it seldom or ever happening that life is prolonged beyond that period in this part of Africa. They retain their vigour, and enjoy a permanent and regular state of health until the last; and I have observed a venerable chief of advanced years having the possession of a dozen of young handsome wives, and the father of a young progeny, whose legitimacy was never disputed or suspected. In Europe the last stage of man is a daily anticipation of dissolution; but in Africa, declining years are only insensible approaches to the termination of a journey, the event of which he considers as the end of life, unconscious of the future, but as a fatality equally attached to all the creation. The picture I have endeavoured to delineate may serve to convey an idea to the mind of the moral and physical state of Africa, which, undisturbed by ferocious barbarism, fierce hostilities, and horrid customs, convey a blissful and happy state of being; but, alas! we must now take another view, and contemplate these beings in the most degrading state, absorbed in superstitious idolatry, inhuman customs, and shut out from the civil arts of life, and the mild principles of Christianity. Their customs, their hostilities, slavery, and the mode I have conceived requisite to infranchise this unhappy race of men, I shall attempt to represent in the following chapter; and happy shall I feel if the description excites the attention and interference of more capacious minds on this subject, interesting to so large a portion of the human race, and to the claims of humanity. CHAPTER VII. _The Mode of Trial by_ Ordeal _and_ Red Water _in Africa.--The Wars of its Inhabitants.--The State of Barbarism and Slavery considered.--The Condition of the Africans will not be improved by a late Legislative Act, without further Interference.--Salutary Measures must be adopted towards the Negroes in the Colonies.--A System suggested to abolish Slavery in Africa, and the Slave Trade in general, and to enlarge the intellectual Powers of its Inhabitants.--The proper Positions to effect an Opening to the Interior of Africa, and to display to the World its manifold Resources._ Trial by _ordeal_ in Africa is a punishment for petty thefts and delinquincies. Trial by _red water_ is generally applied to crimes of greater magnitude. After the usual ceremonial of calling a palaver, the operation is performed by heating a piece of iron in the fire, the hand of the accused is dipped into a viscous preparation, and the iron is immediately drawn horizontally over the palm of the hand. If the judges (one of whom is always the executioner) have previously determined, in defiance of all the evidence, to prove the culprit guilty, the consequence is that the flesh is seared; but if they are predisposed to acquit him, the iron is dexterously applied so as to absorb the unctuous surface on the hand without affecting it, and a sentence of not guilty is pronounced. Trial by _red water_ consists in making the accused drink a quantity of water, into which is infused the poisonous juice of the melley or _gris-gris_ tree; this is prepared by these _equitable_ judges, and applied upon the same fraudulent principles as in the trial by the _ordeal of fire_; it is, however, less resorted to. If the unhappy object of suspicion is affected in such a manner as they consider as a proof of guilt, his brains are knocked out upon the spot, or the body is so inflated by the pernicious liquid that it bursts. In either of these catastrophes all his family are sold for slaves. Some survive these diabolical expedients of injustice, but the issue is uniformly slavery. When chiefs of influence, guilty of atrocity and fraud, become objects of accusation, the ingredient is of course qualified so as to remove its fatal tendency. Hence justice seldom or ever in this country can punish powerful offenders, or shield the innocence of the weak and unprotected. The iniquity and oppression sanctioned by these trials, is a dreadful consequence of their avarice and inhumanity, for it is a fact that slaves are created thereby, and human sacrifices offered to that spirit, which they consider as their tutelar guardian: it is a subject which humanity should seriously contemplate in the relinquishment of the slave trade, whether, by the hasty adoption of that measure, before the intellectual powers of the people are improved by civilization, this barbarous evil may not be increased. When I closely enquired of the chiefs and natives relative to these savage customs, they uniformly admitted the fact, "that such live in their country," but with their characteristic dissimulation, always denied having perpetrated these horrid acts, and shifted the diabolical practice to some other nation or tribe, adding, "that only bad men do that thing." Circumcision is practised among men, and a certain infliction on women, not, however, from religious motives, but to guard against the consequences of a disease not uncommon among them. The infliction upon women is the result of infidelity, or a sacrifice of chastity to loose gratification. As a preliminary, they retire to the _bunda_, or penitentiary, and are there secluded from all sexual intercourse. When the season of penitence is over, the operation is performed by the rude application of two stones, fashioned and sharpened for the purpose; this obliterates all delinquincy, and on their return to the world they are considered as restored to virgin purity. Wars in Africa originate from a variety of causes; in forming a correct estimate of these, it is necessary to consider its localities and situation. The inhabitants of this quarter of the earth, more particularly those of the district now under consideration, compose numerous tribes and nations, whose various views and interests excite jealousies and contentions, which, aided by the passions peculiar to a barbarous people, inevitably produce hostilities, and the effusion of human blood. What we have hitherto known of this country undoubtedly proves that wars are carried on with the most sanguinary violence: their prisoners, by the customs of the country, are consigned to massacre, slavery, and sacrifice,[1] to gratify the avarice, vanity, and cruelty of their chiefs; one of these passions must be predominant, and therefore the question is, which of them is the least pregnant with evil? It cannot admit of a doubt that those who are victims to avarice meet a more mild and humane fate, in falling into the hands of Europeans, than the unhappy portion who are sacrificed to vanity and cruelty; and it is equally true, that since the interior nations have been enabled to exchange their slaves for European merchandize, the number of victims to the latter passion has decreased. I am far from being the advocate of slavery, but I am stating a fact, and leave it to the reader to form his own conclusions. Where confirmed habits and immemorial custom is to be supplanted, it is certainly requisite to be well acquainted with the nature and character of the natives, which I have not here introduced in an exaggerated shape, but infinitely within the bounds of their savage ferocity. From these sources alone have arisen the expedients attendant upon the slave trade; kidnapping and petty warfare form a very unimportant branch of the barbarism which governs the inhabitants of Africa, and their enslaved condition. Viewing this in the mass of moral evil which disgraces the character of man, it will be found that it is even disproportioned to the estimated population of Africa, which, from the best authority, has been stated at upwards of 160 millions; and to apply the consideration to our own situation, it will be found, that the number of executions and transportations from the United Kingdom, in proportion to its population, is infinitely greater than the number of slaves exported from the shores of Africa, to its numerous inhabitants. Unquestionably the slave trade has extricated a number of human beings from death, whom the horrible sacrifices before described consigned to a barbarous exit, and has been a cause, though an immoral one when applied to Britons, of extricating many victims, who otherwise would have been annually sacrificed: humanity has, therefore, some consolation in this polluted branch of our commerce, which in its nature is barbarous and inhuman. Theories become extremely dangerous when they are impracticable, or misapplied, and are pernicious in their consequences from the fallacious measures they establish. In Africa crimes are punished by forfeitures, slavery, or death; they are however rare; but accusations are often used to procure slaves, whether for domestic purposes, sale, or sacrifice to their customs. Death, as a punishment, is seldom the penalty of condemnation; and if the culprit is rich, he can purchase his security. The alleged crime of witchcraft, or magic, is a common means by which the chiefs increase their accusations; and, consequently, the number of slaves. Adultery, and other violations of social order, are punished by fine, but absolution is to be obtained by money. The crimes by which the chiefs obtain the condemnation and disposal of their subjects, are nearly all imaginary; for few exist which, under their laws, are considered as acts of turpitude. The abuse of authority, the action of violent passions, barbarous customs, ferocious habits, and insatiate avarice among the chiefs, augment the number of captives and victims, and the operation of these is much greater in the interior than in the maritime districts; but this leads me to the next part of my subject, namely, that a late legislative act will not, without farther interference, improve the condition of the African. By the hasty conclusion of that measure, the unhappy African is now abandoned to his fate; and we have surrendered him into the hands of other nations, less acquainted with his character and situation. Former acts of parliament had adopted wise and humane measures to ameliorate the condition of slaves on board British vessls, so that their wants, and even their comforts, were administered with a liberal hand; and much more might have been done to augment these comforts. Instead of now being the object of matured and wise regulations, the captive is exposed to the rapacity of our enemies, who will derive great advantages from our abandonment of the trade, and those who are incompetent, from the want of local knowledge, to ease his shackles, and sooth him in his state of bondage. The magnitude and nature of the disease, required a comprehensive system of policy to eradicate it; and although in its nature and tendency of great moral turpitude, alteratives were required calculated to its inveterate character and established habits. The condition of the African, the probable advantages he was to derive by our abandonment, and the circumstances of commerce, were all considerations of important consequence. Even virtue itself must modify to its standard many considerations of moral evil, more particularly in a political point of view, that it may the more effectually establish its principles; nor can it, amidst the corruptions of society, exercise at all times its functions with due effect; neither has an instance occurred where its prudence and discretion was more imperiously called upon, than in that now under consideration. It had immemorial custom in Africa to contend with, inveterate barbarism, and savage ferocity. This system had interwoven itself with our commercial existence so closely, as to require the most sagacious policy to eradicate it; at the same time it was the highest consideration for our magnanimity to interfere for that being whose thraldom and calamitous state had so long contributed to our wealth and commercial prosperity, before we abandoned him to contingencies. Enough may have been said in the foregoing pages, to prove that something yet remains to be done to effect the manumission of the African, and preserve the important branches of commerce, which necessity has allied with the slave trade; and I entreat my readers to give this subject that dispassionate consideration which its merits require, and beg to assure them, that I obtrude my suggestions upon their notice with great submission and diffidence, trusting that what may appear in my system deficient, others more competent will embrace the subject, and excite the beneficence of my country in behalf of the African, promote civilization and Christian society in his country, display its arcana of wealth to the world, and open a path to its commerce, free and unobscured. The colonization of the coast of Africa, in my estimation, is impracticable, from its climate being uncongenial to the constitution of Europeans, and from the system of slavery existing among its inhabitants, without the employment of natives in their present condition. The requisite authority to establish a system of labour, upon remunerative principles, and with industrious vigour, cannot otherwise be supported; and a misapprehension on this principle has been one of the great causes, as I conceive, of the failure of the Sierra Leone Company in establishing their agricultural objects. They attempted, in prosecution of their humane project, an agricultural establishment on the Boolam shore, opposite to their colony, where they had a choice of good lands: they proceeded upon the principles of their declaration, "that the military, personal, and commercial rights of blacks and whites shall be the same, and secured in the same manner," and in conformity with the act of parliament which incorporated them, more immediately that clause which relates to labour, namely, "not to employ any person or persons in a state of slavery in the service of the said Company;" but they have totally failed; and in one of their reports, among other reasons, it is acknowledged, that for want of authority over the free natives whom they employed, their agricultural establishment on the Boolam shore was unsuccessful. Let not those worthy and truly respectable characters, whose humanity has induced them to risque an extensive property _unhappily expended without effect_, here consider that I mean to militate against their views, but rather may they acquiesce in the truth, and devise other expedients to promote their beneficent objects, and to _assimilate the natives_ of the country with their views. They have not only to lament a nonproductive profusion of their property, but an _alienation of the natives_, occasioned by a misconception of their character, by distracted councils, and the narrowed ideas of the agents they employed to prosecute their humane endeavours, but also by a desolate waste in their colony, without a regular feature of cultivation in its vicinity. At Bance Island, where slavery and agriculture were united under one superintendance in conformity with the established laws of the country, the mechanic arts among the natives have arrived at a greater degree of perfection than any situation I have visited upon the Windward Coast; and had the intellectual powers of their minds been more amply considered and cultivated, they would have exhibited an uncontrovertible example of the capacity and intelligence of the African. Although, as I have previously noticed, a superintendance directed only to the mechanical arts, applied to the local necessities of the Island, has had the most visible effects, yet, in proportion as their privileges have been extended, authority has become more inefficient, and their labour less unproductive in a pecuniary point of view, for want of a previous enlargement of their intellectual powers, and a progressive operation of freedom commensurate thereto. I can bestow no panegyric adequate to the sense I entertain of that active goodness which prompted the Directors of the Sierra Leone Company to the undertaking I have alluded to; but with all due deference I conceive that they have mistaken the practicable grounds, upon which the seeds of civilization, and the principles of Christianity, can be effectively displayed to the African. The Directors had to contend with a peculiar co-mixture of passions, licentious habits, and hereditary vice; to eradicate these, and to rescue the natives from their natural state, alluring and progressive measures were necessary, founded upon an accurate investigation of their characters and policy, and not by the fulminations of intemperate zealots, and theoretical speculators. The beneficent views of the Sierra Leone Company have been unaccountably perverted, and have been the distorted instruments in prolonging, rather than extirpating, the barbarism of the African: it is therefore a subject of great regret to the benevolent supporters of this establishment, that an unprofitable expenditure of their property is the only existing perpetuity of their humane interference. Will it be found that the Company's agents have introduced the arts of civilization among any tribe or nation in Africa, that they have made any progress in agriculture, although possessing a very extensive tract of fertile lands, or that they have converted them into any of the regular features of cultivation? Have they explored or brought into action any of the attainable and lucrative branches of natural commerce, abounding in the region they inhabit, or do they employ a single ship in a regular trade with the mother country? Will it be found that they have unfolded the doctrines of Christianity, in their native purity and simplicity, to the unenlightened African, or converted, by their preaching and example, any tribe or nation among them?--The spacious waste is destitute of the appearance of domestic industry, or respectable character; it exhibits only a tissue of indolence, hypocritical grimace, petulant and assuming manners, and all the consequences of idleness and corrupted morals. To succeed in this beneficent undertaking, and to expunge the inveterate nature of the African, his prejudices, and inherent customs, progressive approaches upon his present condition are indispensibly requisite, under the attractive influence of agriculture, manufactures, commerce, and navigation. Accidental events, concurring with political causes, frequently render the best concerted measures abortive, and retard their progress, but unquestionably the above-mentioned are the means by which the African may be manumitted, and his condition improved. The wisest laws operate but slowly upon a rude and fierce people, therefore the measures of reformation are not to be successfully performed by a coup-de-main, nor are the hereditary customs of Africa to be erased by the inflammatory declamations of enthusiasm, but by a liberal policy and the ascendency of the polished arts of society. Commerce, the chief means of assembling, and agriculture of assimilating, mankind, must first assume their fascinating and alluring attitudes to the African upon his native plains. Too impetuous and indolent to observe the forms, or enter into the requisite details of business, he contemplates the effect, without investigating the cause; but, when he discovers his own comparative wretchedness, he will be roused from his innate indolence, his powers will be stimulated, and his emulation excited to attain a more exalted state. Imperceptible and circumspect approach at innovation upon the laws, customs, and country of Africa are indispensibly requisite, its chiefs and head men must be cajoled, their jealousies dextrously allayed, and their sordid avarice flattered by the prospect of superior gain. During the infancy of colonization, the employment of native labour must be tolerated, as is evident by the unsuccessful attempts of the Sierra Leone Company, and may appear from what I have already urged. Independent of political considerations, of much weight, the uncongeniality of the climate of Africa to the constitution of the European colonist opposes an insurmountable barrier to the exercise of laborious avocations; therefore it is necessary to employ natives, in conformity with the usage of the country; and a recognition of property should exist in their persons; for it is obvious, from experiment, that authority cannot otherwise be established, or the necessary labour performed to produce an adequate return. While this invidious exigency obstructs the immediate manumission of the slave, it does not the less accelerate it, agreeable to the sound and humane policy adapted to his condition; but, on the contrary, is necessary to his complete emancipation; for he must first be taught the nature of the blessings of freedom, his intellectual faculties must be expanded, and the veil of barbarism gradually removed, to prepare him to participate in its enjoyment. The system of colonization which I, with all submission, submit to the legislature, and to my country, is this: 1st. To employ natives in whom a recognition of property shall exist, as unavoidable from the present condition of Africa. 2d. To procure them from as wide an extent of the most powerful nations and tribes upon the sea coast, as is practicable, and from the Slatees or slave merchants from the interior countries. 3d. That a requisite number of these should be fit for the present purposes of labour, and for an immediate initiation into the mechanic arts, as applicable to the local circumstances of the colony, and the useful purposes of life. 4th. That a proportionate number of males and females should form the complement, from the age of 5 to 7 years, and be placed in a seminary of instruction, under the inspection of the government of the colony, and under tutors approved of in England. 5th. That this establishment of a seminary of instruction in Africa, under the administration of the colony, shall have for its bases the initiation of these children, as calculated to their sexes, into the rudiments of letters, religion, and science, and the progressive operation of education adapted to the useful purposes of life. 6th. That when thus prepared, the necessary avocations of domestic economy, agriculture, and mechanics, employ the next period of their existence, under the superintendence of the European colonist. 7th. When arrived at the period of mature years, and thus instructed, to become the object of legislative enquiry and investigation as to their attainments, character, fidelity, and mental improvement. 8th. That such as produce clear testimonials of capacity, knowledge, and acquirement, become immediately objects of manumission. 9th. That all proceedings in this process of education and emancipation, become matters of record in the colony, subject to such control and investigation as his Majesty's Government may, in its wisdom, appoint, from time to time, to guard against the corruption and prejudices of the legislative authority of the colony. 10th. That thus endowed, they are to be dismissed to their respective countries and nations, employed as agents in various capacities of civilized pursuit, and to promote the commercial and agricultural views of the colony, and disseminate their allurements among their tribe, which, under the direction of the unerring dispensations of divine providence, might, in process of time, diffuse civilization and Christianity throughout the utmost region of Africa, its inhabitants become members of civilized and Christian society, and their country, in process of time, be extricated from its barbarism. It is for the legislature to devise a system adapted to the colonies, calculated to their local situations, and to remove the invidious distinction now subsisting between the African there, and in his native country; by these means the entire Negro race may participate in the blessings of civilization and revealed religion, in every quarter where our extensive dominion and influence exist. By adopting the _first proposition_, a sufficient authority would be maintained to enforce the labour necessary to produce profit, and competent to excite emulation, which is a powerful passion in the character of the African; for in every effort he discovers a strong spirit of competition. Through the medium of the 2d proposition, the natives of an extentive district would be collected under the instruction of the European colonist, and, in process of time, would become the happy instruments of initiating their, tribe or nation into the arts of civilization, and in promoting the commercial interests of the colony, which may eventually be diffused throughout Africa. By the 3d expedient, an adequate portion of effective labourers would be obtained to commence vigorous operations. In consequence of the 4th, 5th, and 6th, a portion of children of both sexes would be procured at a moderate rate, in their unadulterated condition, who would be susceptible of any impressions, free from the control of their parents, and the contamination of their example, into whose tender minds might be instilled the principles of moral virtue, religious knowledge, and the civil arts of life. Through the adoption of the 7th and 8th, the objects of humanity might be realized, and slavery, with the slave trade, make a natural exit from the shores and country of Africa. By the 9th, the corrupted and interested endeavours of the colonists to retard the work of emancipation would be controlled; and, by the patronage of Government, pecuniary resource and support be obtained, in aid of individual and corporate endeavours, the requisite population from the parent state acquired, and the indispensible authority established to secure success to any further attempts at colonization upon the coast of Africa. And through the 10th expedient, an extended population would enjoy the advantages of instruction and example, and our ascendency and commerce be increased by a rapid process, which would predispose the natives to throw open the avenues of their country to our enterprize and research. Thus may the long seclusion of the African from the light of truth and revealed religion be annihilated, his inveterate jealousies allayed, his nature regenerated, and his barbarism fall before the emanations of enlightened existence. In the interim, an unobscured path to the interior of his country will be opened, and our commerce therewith flow through a less polluted channel; while the Negro, now the victim of barbarism in his native land, may be extricated from his thraldom, and received into the circle of civilized life, which he has hitherto been excluded from, and to which providence, without doubt, in its mysterious and incomprehensible administration of human affairs, has designed him to arrive at. [Footnote 1: A portion of them being destined to domestic slavery, as victims to revenge, and as sacrifices to their barbarous customs.] CHAPTER VIII. _What the Author conceives should be the System of Establishment to make effectual the Operations from Cape Verde to Cape Palmas.--Reasons for subjecting the Whole to one Superior and controlling Administration.--The Situations, in his Estimation, where principal Depots may be established, and auxiliary Factories placed, &c. &c._ What I have already said respecting the coast from Cape Verde to Cape Palmas, may be sufficient to convey a tolerably just and general idea of the religion, customs, and character of the inhabitants, the commercial resources with which it abounds, and the system to be pursued to unite commerce with the claims of humanity in one harmonious compact. I am persuaded there is no situation on the Windward Coast of Africa more calculated, or more advantageously situated, than the river of Sierra Leone to influence and command an enlarged portion of the continent of Africa. This part of Africa, as ascertained by Mr. Park, communicates, by its rivers to the Niger, and introduces us to the interior of this great continent; and, from other sources of information, Foolahs, Mandingos, &c. I am enabled to confirm the statement given in one of the reports of the Sierra Leone Company, that from _Teembo_, about 270 miles interior to the entrance of the Rio Noonez, and the capital of the Foolah king, a path of communication exists through the kingdoms of Bellia, Bourea, Munda, Segoo (where there are too strong grounds to believe that the enterprising spirit of Mr. Park ceased its researches in this world), Soofundoo to Genah, and from thence to Tombuctoo, described as extremely rich and populous. The distance from Teembo to Tombuctoo the natives estimate at about four moons' journey, which at 20 miles per day, calculating 30 days to each moon, is equal to 2,400 miles. This distance in a country like Africa, obscured by every impediment which forests, desarts, and intense climate can oppose to the traveller, is immense; and when it is considered that in addition to these, he has to contend with the barbarism of the inhabitants, it is a subject for serious deliberation, before the investigation of its natural history and commercial resources is undertaken. But it also displays an animating field of enterprise to obtain a free intercourse with this unbounded space, and if, at a future day, we should traverse it with freedom and safety, the whole of Africa might thereby be enlightened, and its mysteries developed to the civilized world. I have therefore conceived the expediency of submitting all the enterprises and operations of the United Kingdom to the influence of a supreme direction and government in the river of Sierra Leone. No doubt many contradictory opinions may prevail upon this subject, and upon the outline I have previously submitted on the most eligible plan of introducing civilization into Africa; but the detail of all my motives and reasons would occupy too large a space; I shall therefore proceed to instance some local circumstances and political reasons why I make the proposition. From what I have said respecting the path which Smart, of the Rochell branch of the river Sierra Leone, has now under his authority, and can open and shut at pleasure, communicating with the extensive country of the Foolahs, whose king (as the Sierra Leone agents are well aware of, but who was strangely and unaccountably neglected by them) is well disposed to aid, by prudent application, all advances towards the civilization of his country, it is evident that an immense commerce, extending northward to Cape Verde, and southward to Cape Palmas, on the coasts, and from the interior countries, might be maintained. By light vessels and schooners, drawing from 6 to 8 feet water, a continued activity might be kept up in the maritime situations and rivers, and a correspondence by land might be conducted by post natives, who travel from 20 to 30 miles per day, to all parts of the interior countries. From the Island of Goree a correspondence with the river Gambia, and a watchful vigilance over the settlement of the French in the Senegal would be maintained both by land and sea, which, with a well chosen position, central from Cape Sierra Leone, to Cape Palmas, would combine a regular system of operation, concentrating in the river Sierra Leone. In addition to these three principal depots, it would be requisite to establish factories, and places of defence to the northward, on the rivers Scarcies and Kissey, at the Isles de Loss, the rivers Dembia, Rio Pongo, Rio Grande, Rio Noonez, and Gambia; and to leeward, on the rivers Sherbro, Galhinas, Cape Mount, Junk river, John's river, Bassau, &c. or in other commanding positions towards Cape Palmas. The expense of these auxiliary establishments and forts would be inconsiderable, compared with the objects they would attain, the chief requisite being regular and well supplied assortments of goods, and a wise system of organization adapted to circumstances. The navigation of these rivers, and habits of conciliation and friendship with the chiefs resident upon them, and towards the interior, it may here be perceived, are the only practicable measures, under the auspicious control of Government, to retain our commerce with Africa, to civilize its inhabitants, and explore its hidden wealth; and are the most favourable, also, towards our operations in the countries on this continent; while the various natives attached to this pursuit, would aid, by wise management, in influencing the inhabitants, where our researches and pursuits might carry us, and eventually conduct us to the centre of Africa, from thence to the eastern shores of the Mediterranean, and the banks of the Nile. I trust it will here also appear that the means of acting, and the important advantages to be derived therefrom, are neither illusive nor impracticable. It is to be lamented, that, in undertakings of this kind, men of limited genius, of no experience in business, and incapable of acting with unanimity, have been too frequently employed; who are governed more by caprice than principle, and are consequently seldom able to reduce their ideas into practice, and allow their passions to predominate over the maxims of duty. Delicacy in managing the humours and interests of men is the art requisite to successful operation. May it be remembered, that if civilization and our ascendency prevail in Africa, and if the first essays we make to extend our relations with that country are successful, we attach to the civilized world one-fourth of the habitable globe, and its infinite resources. It therefore becomes a subject of great magnitude, to commence and form a system of operation, to collect the means of this immense extent, and the propriety of subjecting the whole to a similarity of views, and co-operation under one controlling administration. The precipitate abolition of the slave trade will reduce our affairs in Africa, to a contracted and unproductive compass, in its present condition; therefore if we attach any consequence to this quarter of the globe, it will be expedient to endeavour to discover new scources [**Note: sources] of commercial wealth and industry. Coffee, cotton, the sugar cane, cacao, indigo, rice, tobacco, aromatic plants and trees, &c. first offer themselves to, our attention in wild exuberance. And these, in my humble opinion, are the only rational means to bring Africa into a state of civilization, and to abolish slavery. I recommend one administration under the patronage of Government, in the Sierra Leone river, to guard against a want of unity in the number of petty establishments that may otherwise exist on the coast, which from jealousies and interests varying in different directions, produce operations of a contradictory nature, and the first necessary step, is to be well acquainted with the character and dispositions, of the natives, and the localities of the maritime situations; for without combined enterprises, I venture to predict we are now excluded from the commerce of Africa. I trust that my system will be examined in all its points, with dispassionate impartiality before it is rejected; and if others more competent to the task, devise more eligible means to promote the views of humanity and commerce, I shall feel happy to have agitated the subject, and rejoice at every means, to rescue so important a matter to the interests of mankind. The commandant of Goree, I would propose as second in command, with delegated powers to control all the operations in the countries bordering on the Senegal, and the river Gambia; and an annual inspection directed by him, throughout this district. The intermediate countries from the Rio Noonez to Cape Mount would come immediately under the examination of the central and administrative government of Sierra Leone, and the third division under the authority of another command at a position chosen between Cape Mount, and Cape Palmas. The military protection of the establishments, as I have here recommended, would neither require great exertions, or numbers. Goree certainly claims peculiar attention. Its fortifications should be repaired, and the guns rendered more complete, and tanks for water should be in a perfect state to guard against the want of this necessary article from the main land, which, as before noticed, is liable to be cut off at any period by the enemy. The convenience, airy and healthy construction of the barracks and hospitals, claim the most minute attention and care. Under skilful superintendance in these important departments, the health of the troops might be preserved, and objects of defence realized with a very inconsiderable military establishment. But as government must be well informed by its officers, both military and naval in these points, it would be indecorous in me to enlarge on the subject. Lieut. Colonel Lloyd, from his long residence, and intimacy with a great portion of the Windward Coast, possesses ample information. And the naval officers, who from time to time have visited it, have, no doubt, furnished every document necessary to complete an effective naval protection. A regular system of defence, adapted to the jurisdiction of the Sierra Leone, and delegated establishment between Cape Mount and Cape Palmas, are also obviously requisite. The establishments that would be eligible for the purposes of defence, are confined to the three foregoing principal positions, and they have little to perform that is either difficult or embarrassing. It may not, however, be considered as going beyond the bounds of propriety to hint, that a great portion of the soldiers charged with defence, should be able engineers and gunners, and a few cavalry might be occasionally found useful. To complete the entire plan, and exclude our enemies from every point, from Cape Blanco to Cape Palmas, the possession of the French establishment at the Isle of Louis in the Senegal, is an abject of serious contemplation, and no doubt might be attained with great facility by even a small force. The unhealthy consequences to a military force attached to this place might be greatly removed by superior convenience in the hospitals, barracks, and other departments of residence; and in a commercial point of view, its advantages are too well ascertained for me to obtrude any observations. The bricks necessary for building may be procured in the country, lime from oyster shells, &c. wood and other materials at a very inconsiderable expense; and as the usual mode of payment, is in bars of goods, instead of money, the nominal amount would thereby be greatly lessened. CHAPTER IX. _The Author embarks in the Ship Minerva.--Proceeds to the Rio Pongo.--Disquisitions thereon.--Further Observations on the Inhabitants, obtained from Natives of various Nations met with there.--The Isles de Loss--Returns to Sierra Leone, &c._ Upon the 4th of June, 1806, I embarked at Bance Island, on board the ship Minerva of Liverpool, bound upon a trading voyage to the Rio Pongo, and other rivers to the northward, and on Thursday the 12th came to an anchor at the upper forks, in the Rio Pongo, being the point at which the branches of the _Bungra, Charleston, Constintia,_ &c. empty themselves; higher up the river are the _Sanga_ and _Bashia_ branches, occupied by a chain of factories, and inhabited by various nations and tribes. The principal factories for trade are on the Constintia, about 40 miles up the river, Mr. Cummings's factory, at Ventura; Mr. John Irvin's, at Kessey; Mr. Benjamin Curtis's, at Boston; Mr. Frasier's, at Bangra; Mr. Sammo's, at Charleston; Mr. David Lawrence's, at Gambia; Mr. Daniel Botefeur's, at Mary Hill; Mr. Ormond's, Mr. Tillinghurst's, Mr. Gray's, in the Bashia branch; with various others of inferior consideration. During my stay on this river, I visited the whole of these branches, and in addition to personal investigation, I obtained much information from the various conductors of these factories, and had a variety of opportunities of communicating with many of the natives from the interior countries, who are drawn hither by the extensive commerce of the Rio Pongo. In my excursions on this river, I was generally accompanied by Captain William Browne, of Liverpool, who was part owner of the Minerva, and had the sole management of the concerns of her voyage; and I am happy to give him this public testimony of the many obligations he conferred upon me, while on this part of the coast, which unceasingly continued until my arrival in England, by the way of the West Indies. The countries bounded by the Rio Pongo and the Gambia, are inhabited by the Nilloes and various tribes, who carry on a considerable trade with that river, the Rio Noonez, and Rio Grande, and inland to the two latter, is the powerful nation of the Foolahs, possessing an extensive country, about 200 miles in breadth from north to south, and 400 miles from east to west. Teembo, the capital of the Foolah king, is about 270 miles inland from the entrance of the Rio Noonez. The paths for trade and communication with the interior, from this position, are at the king's pleasure, and he opens and shuts them by his mandate. The Foolahs are tall, well-limbed, robust and courageous, grave in their deportment, are well acquainted with commerce, and travel over an astonishing space of the country. Their religion is a mixture of Mahomedanism, idolatry, and fetishism. One of their tenets, which inculcates the destruction of those they term infidels, is peculiarly friendly to slavery, and as the greater part of their neighbouring tribes are of that description, they are continually practising every violence, and, are frequently engaged in wars. When I suggested to a chief of very considerable intelligence, and one of the Foolah king's head men, whom I met in the Rio Pongo, the enormity of their injustice to the surrounding tribes, and how displeasing it was to the God they prayed to, his reply was, "True, this be bad fashion to Foolah, or Mandingo man, but these people we make war against never pray to God, nor do we make war with those who give God Almighty service." While this barbarism exists, and the slave trade is continued, humanity will have to, bewail the miserable condition of the African slave. For this, and various other reasons that might be urged, and considering the position and extensive influence of the Foolah nation, their king claims a high consideration in a combined scheme of establishment upon the coast. So impressed was this chief, of the beneficial advantages to be derived from agriculture, that he tendered land, cattle, men, &c. to the agents of the Sierra Leone Company, only requesting from them, in return, a delegated superintendance; but, strange to tell, this disposition was not cultivated nor improved; nor was the further offer of the king of Laby, and his high priest, to place their sons under the protection of the Company, to be sent to England and educated. A more important step could not have been taken to attain the object of the Directors, than this of attaching the Foolah nation to their interest. The women of this nation are handsome, and of a sprightly temper, and their countenances are more regular than those of the common Negroes; the hair in both men and women is much longer, and not so woolly, but they have a most disgusting custom of forming it into ringlets, bedaubed with oil and grease, which gives them a very barbarous appearance. The Foolah tongue, is different from that of the surrounding nations, and its accent is more harmonious. To the southward of the Rio Pongo, to Sierra Leone, lie the countries of the Bagoes, Soosees, Mandingos, Timminees, and Boolams, all idolaters except the Mandingos, who, like the Foolahs, associate in their religion a mixture of fetishism and Mahomedanism. The Timminees are a more harmless race of men than any of the other _infidel_ nations, and their dispositions are more calculated to industrious avocations than their neighbours. I have already noticed the Mandingos, but, as I consider this nation and the Foolahs of the first consequence, from their power and influence over the other nations of this part of the coast, I shall add a few more observations upon them. From what I have before stated, it will appear that the Mandingos are a numerous people in Africa, gaining a daily influence and authority in the district now under consideration. Besides the tribes of this people who inhabit the countries between the Soosees and Timminees, there are various others established in the country of Bambouk, and on the borders of the Gambia, but the great body occupy an extensive territory above the sources of that river. The empire of the Mandingos is not, however, so considerable as that of the Foolahs, but from their increasing influence over the western countries, from their docile and cunning dispositions, their knowledge in merchandize, and acquirements in book-knowledge, their power must, in process of time, be greatly increased; and it will be of the utmost moment to civilize them, in order to acquire an influence over the more barbarous states. Notwithstanding the cunning and dissimulation which characterizes these people, they are generous, open, and hospitable, and their women are aimiable and engaging: they are more zealous Mahomedans than the Foolahs; their colour has a mixture of yellow, but their features are more regular than the other nations of Africa which I have seen. The Foolahs, the Mandingos, and the Joliffs, bordering on the Senegal, are the most handsome Negroes on this part of Africa; the hair of the latter, however, is more crisped and woolly, their nose is round, and their lips are thick; this nation, in particular, is blacker than those approximating towards the line; nor are the Negroes in the Krew coast, and towards Palmas, so black as the nation I now speak of; which may tend to prove, that the colour of the Africans does not arise from a vertical sun, but from other physical causes yet unknown. There is a characteristic feature between the Mahomedan nations of Africa, particularly those from the shores of the Mediterranean (whom I have seen in my travels in that quarter) which, with their almost universal profession of the Mahomedan religion, sanctions the idea, that this part of the coast has been peopled from the eastern parts of the continent; but the visible difference in religion, complexion, and feature, of the nations towards Cape Palmas, give rise to other conjectures. An obvious difference may be observed among these numerous nations; their language and their customs are various, and are frequently without affinity or relation. From the shores of the Mediterranean to this part of Africa, the majority of the nations are Mahomedans, but towards Cape Palmas they are gross idolaters, with a mixture Mahomedanism and superstition; many of them erect temples, and dedicate groves to the devil. I have seen several of these, which exhibit no outward sign or object of worship, but consist of stumps of trees, in a circular form, covered with leaves, or a thatched roof, in the centre of which stands a square altar of mud, without any image of adoration. The reason assigned by them for their omission in this instance, is, "that they never look the Devil or evil spirit, therefore they do not know how to make any thing like him." To the good spirit they neither make offering nor sacrifice, considering it as unnecessary to obtain his favours, from his disposition to do nothing but good, which of course he will administer to them. From every thing that I have observed, I conceive that idolatry, and fetish worship, is the predominant religion of Africa, and that Mahomedanism has been propagated by the Moore and Arab's. It may not here be unopportune to introduce the Mandingo man's prayer, which I obtained from a very intelligent chief of that nation: viz. _Mandingo Arabic_. Subbohanalahe Rabila'ademy abodehé. Subbohanala rabila Allah. Subbohana arabe. Inye allamante, nafuse wa amutate sue wakefurella. Teyatelillahé tebates allivatuelub lahey. Sillamaleko ayo hanabehé, obara katolahe Sullamalina Ihannabé, lebadelahe Saliheneé" The address to Mahomet follows, viz. Sahadala elahe idillaha Mahomedo, arasoolo lahi man Mahomedo aboodaho. _In their idiom of English._ God lives and, is not dust. God be master of all and is above his slaves. God knows his slave, and is not made of earth; but above all. (Before the next sentence, Subbohana arabe, &c. he bows twice.) Suppose I die, I can look you to-morrow, and thank you, and be out of trouble, and free from the Devil. (Teyatelillahé, &c. accompanied by a motion of the fingers) I beg in my prayers again, God, I may die to day, I look to thank you again to-morrow, my people and family may then get into trouble, and I then pray to you. To Mahomet. Mahomet be man, born of woman, the prophet of God, and speak to him for man. In this system of prayer there is a mixture of fetishism, Mahomedanism, and a strong analogy to the Christian system; and it is no inconsiderable argument in favour of the mediation of the Saviour, that in the worship of heathen nations a mediator is uniformly associated with the object of adoration. Virgil in his Aeneid, and other classic writers, illustrate a belief of the ancient heathens in the omniscience of the deity, and they clearly elucidate the importance they attached the mediatorial efficacy of offerings and sacrifice. The form of worship adapted to the foregoing prayer, is to squat down upon the ground, placing the palm of their hands flat thereon twice, touching the earth the same number of times with their foreheads; then rubbing their arms from the wrist to the elbow, with that which is contracted by this operation, when the hands are applied to the face, and the forefingers put into the ears. I have dwelt more minutely upon this people and their present condition compared with the Foolahs, because I consider these nations have it much in their power to shut and open the paths of intercourse with the interior countries, therefore they become of importance, in the contemplation of any pursuits upon this district of Africa. The Mandingoes inhabiting Galam, and the countries interior to the Gambia, carry on the principal trade with those of Bambouk, &c. where gold is procured. This precious metal is obtained from the surface of the earth, and from the banks of the falls of the rivers in the rainy season; it is first washed in a calabash; and when the water is poured off, the dust, and sometimes large grains remain. The natives have no idea of mining; but it appears from hence, that mines of this metal must exist, which are concealed thro' the want of the arts of civilized life. The Mandingoes speak of these countries with a great air of mystery, and are extremely jealous, lest Europeans should obtain any information relative to them: as they carry on almost exclusively, this branch of commerce. When I was in the Bashia branch of the Rio Pongo, a meteor of an extraordinary kind appeared for two successive nights, directing its course from NE. to SW. which put the natives in a most dreadful state of consternation; the women fell into loud lamentations, the men beat their drums, and sent forth the most horrid yells; imagining, that this barbarous uproar would drive away the object of their fears. In eclipses of the sun and moon, they repeat their prayers and sacrifices, with the same clamour, under the notion that it will frighten away the monster which they suppose to obscure these planets from their view. These superstitious notions have the most powerful influence over the Negro's mind, and it is impossible to dissuade or reason him out of them. From all I have stated, the great importance of these countries, to open an intercourse with the interior of Africa, must appear. On the borders of the Rio Pongo, and other rivers, excellent lands, forming hill, and dale, are every where to be found, and well adapted to agricultural experiments. With the _consent of the chiefs_, these might be obtained at a small expense, and many of them with whom I have communicated, would gladly embrace a wise interference; but they all complain, "white man not know their fashion," intimating in very forcible language, that every caution should be used, at innovation upon their laws, customs, and manners. Let example first excite their admiration, and their barbarism will bow before the arts of civilization, and slavery be gradually abolished. Before I conclude this chapter, I shall make some observations upon the temperature of the western countries of Africa, situated between Cape Verde and Cape Palmas, mention the principal diseases, and those which Europeans are most exposed to on their first arrival in these countries, and give general precautions against the dangers of the climate, &c. The inexhaustible fecundity of Africa holds out to Europeans strong excitements to enterprise and research; but in the pursuit, the diseases which prevail in this country should be well understood; and it would be highly expedient, in any plans of colonization, to attach a medical staff, as the natives have no idea of the art of surgery, except what arises from the knowledge they have of the properties of herbs, and the superstitions attached to their fetishism. In annexing this extraordinary country to the civilized world, and exploring its stores of wealth, a burning climate, and the diseases peculiar thereto, unite with the barbarism of its inhabitants in opposition to the European; but by a strict observance of necessary rules, and avoiding all kinds of excess, the formidable influence of the sun may be resisted, and the pernicious effects of exhalations, which arise from a humid, marshy, and woody country, may in a great degree be obviated; and I am sorry to say, that for want of proper precaution and through ignorance, fatal consequences more frequently occur, than from the unhealthiness of the climate. The temperature from Cape Verde to Cape Palmas is extremely various from the vertical rays of the sun, the nature of the soil, and the face of the country. In the months from November to March, by Fahrenheit's thermometer, it has been from 70° in the morning, to 90° at noon, in the shade; and nearly the same variation has been observed at the river of Sierra Leone; and in some places in the Foolah country it has been from 50° to 90° From July to October, the mean temperature in the river Gambia, by Fahrenheit, has been from 90° in the morning to 100° at noon in the shade, and during the same months at Sierra Leone from about 92° to 106°; but a variety of local circumstances may give a greater or less degree of heat: this however may serve to give a general idea of the temperature of these countries. The island of Goree, for example, the island of Bance, and the bay of Sierra Leone, are more healthy, enjoying the cooling sea breezes, more than situations in the rivers more interior. The banks of all the rivers in Africa, which I have visited, are enclosed by impenetrable forests, marshes, and the closely combined mangrove tree, and it is but seldom that the land forms an uneven dry surface on their borders. Instances however in the Sierra Leone, Rio Pongo, &c. occasionally occur, when the most picturesque scenery adorns the river. From May to August, hurricanes or _tornados_, before described, prevail upon the Windward Coast, and this phenomenon is to be met with from Cape Verde to Cape Palmas. The months from November to March are remarkable for the prevalence of east and north-east winds. When these winds, which are called _harmatans_, set in, they are accompanied with a heavy atmosphere, and are of a dry and destructive nature. Every description of vegetation is blasted by their influence, and every object, animate and inanimate, feels their powerful effects; the skin is parched and dried, and every feature is shriveled and contracted. The most compact cabinet work will give way, the seams of flooring open, and the planks even bend. Furniture of every sort is distorted; in short, nothing escapes their dreadful power. The nights at this period are cool and refreshing. The months of July, August, September, and October are rainy, from the equator to about the 20th degree of north latitude. Towards the equinoxial they begin earlier, and make their progress to windward, but the difference throughout the whole of the north tropic fluctuates little more or less than 15 or 20 days. When the rains commence, the earth, before parched up and consolidated into an impenetrable crust, by the powerful influence of the sun and a long period of drought, is immediately covered with vermin and reptiles of all sorts, creating a moving map of putrefaction. The natives ascribe to these many of their diseases; but a further cause may be added, namely, the great change from heat to cold, and the variations at this season. The powerful influence of the sun, which at this period is almost vertical, quickly dissipates the clouds which obscure the sky, and produces an almost insupportable effect; but new clouds soon condense, and intercept the solar rays; a mitigating heat follows; the pores are compressed, and prespiration ceases. Variations succeeding so rapidly, are attended with the most serious effects, and the most fatal consequences. And, lastly, the noxious exhalations arising from the inaccessible forests and marshy swamps which abound in Africa, and from numerous animal and vegetable remains of the dry season, which cover the soil every where, are productive of putrid effluvia. These rains, or rather periodical torrents of water, which annually visit the tropics, invariably continue for about four months of the year, and during the other eight it rarely happens that one single drop falls; in some instances, however, periodical showers have happened in the dry season, but the effects of these are scarcely perceptible on vegetation; the consequence is, that the surface of the earth forms an impervious stratum or crust, which shuts up all exhalation. When the rains cease, and the heat of the sun absorbs the evaporations from the earth, which have been so long concealed during the dry season, a most offensive and disgusting effluvia is produced, which then fastens upon the human system, and begets diseases that in a short time shew their effects with dreadful violence; and no period is more to be guarded against than when the rains cease, for the intense heat completely impregnates the atmosphere with animalculae and corrupted matter. The principal complaints which attack Europeans are, malignant nervous fevers, which prevail throughout the rainy season, but they are expelled by the winds which blow in the month of December; from hence these _harmatans_ are considered healthy, but I have heard various opinions among medical men on this subject. Dr. Ballard (now no more), whose long residence at Bance Island, and in Africa, and whose intimate acquaintance with the diseases of these climates, peculiarly qualified him to decide upon the fact, was of opinion, most decidedly, that the _harmatan_ season was not the most healthy. When this malignant fever takes place in all its virulence, its consequences are the most disastrous; the symptoms are violent and without gradation, and the blood is heated to an increased degree beyond what is experienced in Europe; the ninth day is generally decisive, and this is a crisis that requires the most vigilant attention and care over the patient. I speak this from personal experience. In consequence of the fatigues I underwent in the Rio Pongo, and other rivers, and having been for several days and nights exposed to an open sea, and to torrents of rain upon land, I was seized with this dreadful disorder, although I had enjoyed an uninterrupted state of good health before, and on my arrival at the colony of Sierra Leone was unable to support myself on shore; and had it not been for the kind attention and skilful prescriptions of Dr. Robson of that colony, with the friendly offices of Captain Brown, I should, in all probability, at this stage have finished my travels and existence together. Dysenteries frequently follow this fever, which are of a very fatal tendency, and sometimes the flux is unattended by fever. This disease is not uncommon in persons otherwise healthy, but it is productive of great debility, which requires a careful regimen; if it continues to a protracted period, its consequences are often fatal. In my own case, a dysentery followed the fever, and reduced me to a mere skeleton. The dry belly-ache is another dangerous disease, accompanied by general languor, a decrease of appetite, a viscous expectoration, and fixed pain in the stomach. Opium is considered an efficacious medicine in this disease, and is administered with great perseverance, accompanied by frequent fomentations. An infusion of ginger drank in the morning has frequently good effects. Flannel assists excretion, and is found beneficial. _Tetanos_ is also another disease peculiar to Africa, and is a kind of spasm and convulsive contraction, for which opium is the usual remedy. The Guinea worm is another disease among the natives, which is productive of tumours upon the body and limbs, productive of great pain, and is a contagious disease. This, however, is a subject without my province, and which has been ably treated upon by gentlemen, whose profession fully qualified them for the investigation. In addition to the many valuable treatises upon tropical diseases, from high authority, I would recommend Dr. Winterbottom's publication to the reader, as, embracing highly important local information upon the diseases of the Windward Coast. I have only touched on those which have more immediately come within my personal observation. Too much care cannot be taken by Europeans in drinking, and even washing in the waters of Africa, which should always undergo a filtering preparation, and I am persuaded that great circumspection should be used in this respect: these and other precautions, with a generous, but regular system of living, would no doubt tend to diminish the fatal tendency of diseases in Africa. Without doubt, a series of professional observations and enquiry into the temperature and periodical variations of the climate of Africa, and its diseases, would be attended with the most important advantages to the science of physic, and might ultimately prove of incalculable consequence in preserving the valuable lives of our brave soldiers and sailors, exposed to all the ravages of tropical climates. Advantages that are well worth the attention of government, which would train up a body of physicians and surgeons, initiated into the mysteries of the diseases peculiar to those countries, which might tend to preserve a large portion of human beings of the utmost consequence and importance to the state; and it might form a part in the organization of colonial establishments, to attach thereto an institution of this nature. CHAPTER X. _The Author visits the Isles de Loss.--Remarks on those Islands.--Touches at the River Scarcies.--Arrives at the Colony of Sierra Leone.--Embarks for the West Indies--Lands at the Colony of Demerory.--Some Observations on the Productions of that Colony, Berbice, and Essequibo, and on the Importance of Dutch Guiana to the United Kingdom, in a political and commercial View._ On the 4th of July, I rejoined the Minerva at the Palm Trees, and on the 5th we weighed and passed the bar of the Rio Pongo, steering our course for the Isles de Loss; and on the 6th came to an anchor off Factory Island. The Isles de Loss, in the Portuguese language meaning Islands of Idols, are so called from the idolatrous customs of the natives, and are seven in number; Tammara, Crawford's, Factory, Temba, White's, Goat, and Kid islands. Tammara is the largest, but very difficult of approach, and has few inhabitants; Crawford's has two factories for trade, belonging to gentlemen formerly in the service of the Sierra Leone Company; and Factory Island has an American establishment, conducted by a Mr. Fisk, These are the principal (the others being little more than barren rocks), and they abound in vegetation and natural productions. Squilly, or the sea onion, to which great medicinal qualities are ascribed, grows in great abundance in these islands, and might be procured in almost any quantity. Dr. Lewis, in the _Materia Medica_, or _Edinburgh Dispensary_, describes the peculiar qualities of this root. The positions of these islands are excellent for trade, but exposed to the predatory excursions of the enemy, who have frequently pillaged the factories established in Crawford's Island. On the 9th we again got under weigh, steering our course for the entrance into the river Scarcies. The night was attended by tremendous peals of thunder, lightning, and torrents of rain: we continued off and on until the 12th, when we arrived outside Mattacont Island, bearing E. by S. and the Isles de Loss in sight. At 2 P.M. I accompanied Captain Brown, with five hands, in the pinnace, with the intention of running into the Scarcies river. We sailed with a fresh breeze in expectation of gaining the entrance by the approach of night; but we were obliged to anchor in the open sea, amidst the most awful peals of thunder, while the whole heaven displayed nothing but vivid flashes of lightning. Amidst this tremendous scene, exposed to the mercy of the waves, with the prospect of being deluged by rain, we secured our little bark and ourselves, in the best manner our circumstances would admit, and committed ourselves to the all protecting care and disposal of Providence. The mantle of night was soon spread around us, the scene was grand and solemn, and we were at length hushed to rest by the jar of elements, and the murmurs of the ocean. We awoke to contemplate an azure sky, and the all-bountiful mercy of the Creator, in preserving us from such imminent danger, to pursue our destination through breakers, shoals, and sands. At day-light, with a breeze from the land, we weighed, and steered our course S.S.E. for the Scarcies bar, but the wind shifting to the S.E. and the ebb tide running strong, we were nearly driven out of sight of land; we were therefore obliged again to anchor, and wait the change of tide. Trusting to a sea breeze that had just set in, it being slack water, we again weighed: the serenity of the weather did not long continue, but soon increased to a brisk gale, accompanied by thunder, lightning and rain; we were driven with great impetuosity through the narrow channel between the bar and the shore, and from the shallowness of the water, the rollers continually broke over our heads, threatening our destruction every moment. Providentially we surmounted these dangers, and at 5 P.M. entered the river, which is interspersed with islands and picturesque objects, that could not be viewed without interest. I have been thus minute in describing this excursive voyage, that others, whose business may hereafter lead them to this river, may profit by the difficulties we experienced in this critical and dangerous passage. We were obliged to come to an anchorage in the river during the night, under a very violent rain, and the next day arrived at Robart, the factory of Mr. Aspinwall. This gentleman, whom a previous acquaintance had induced me to visit, received us with great hospitality and kindness. From a residence of upwards of 32 years on the coast, he possesses much intelligence and valuable information relative to this part of Africa, and I am indebted to him not only on this, but on former occasions, for many interesting particulars. The factories of trade in this river are, Mr. Aspinwall, Robart. Boatswain, A black chief and trader, above Robart. Mr. Lewis, Rocoopa, attached to Bance Island. Mr. Gordon, Thomas's Island, ditto. With a variety of small factories attached to those of Mr. Aspinwall. On the 15th we took leave of Mr. Aspinwall, and embarked on board a schooner he had the kindness to furnish us with; and after a very tedious and tempestuous passage, arrived at Sierra Leone on the 21st, having had contrary winds to contend with; whereas with a favourable breeze, the passage is usually performed in a few hours. Here I was attacked with the epidemic fever of Africa, and experienced the medical assistance and friendship I have previously noticed. In an exceedingly exhausted state, but much recovered, I again embarked on board the Minerva, where I had a second attack of the fever, accompanied by dysentery, which reduced me to the lowest state of existence; and after one of the most distressing and disagreeable voyages I ever experienced, we arrived in Demerary roads after a passage of 71 days, and, by the providence of the Almighty, we escaped both disease and the enemy. A few hours after we came to an anchor I went on shore, and I verily believe that the passengers and spectators suspected they had received a visitation from the world of spirits. When I reached the house of Mr. Colin McCrea, Captain Brown's consignee, the unaffected and gentlemanlike reception I met with, both from him and his lady, with their subsequent kind conduct, can never be effaced from my memory. Captain Brown soon joined us, and in the most engaging terms we were invited to become inmates with Mr. McCrea and his partner, which we availed ourselves of during our stay in Demerary. A few days after, I became acquainted with Mr. Alexander McCrea, brother to my kind host, and as soon as my health would permit, visited him at his plantation, the Hope, 11 miles from Stabroke, the capital of the colony of Demerary. In this society, and from other quarters, I was favoured with various information upon the situation of the colonies in Dutch Guiana, and their importance in a political and commercial point of view. The colonial produce of Demerary, Essequibo, and Berbice, chiefly consists in sugar, coffee, cotton, rum, and molasses; but the richness and fertility of the soil is capable of raising any tropical production; new sources being daily unfolded, of the immense wealth derivable from these colonies, and their great importance to Great Britain. The following example, extracted from the Custom House reports, may elucidate this in a striking degree. In the June fleet of 1804, consisting of sixty sail of various burthen and tonnage, there were exported, viz. 17,235 Casks of sugar. 203 Casks coffee. 442 Barrels do. 39,701 Barrels cotton. 3,399 Puncheons rum. 336 Hhds. molasses. 8,668,885 lbs. wt. coffee. Calculating sugar at £20. per cask, and £3. per barrel; rum 150 guilders, or £12. 10s. per puncheon; coffee 1s. per lb.; cotton £20. per bale of 3 cwt; and molasses a guilder, or 1s. 8d. per gallon, the total amount will be upwards of £1,600,000. This immense export has since progressively increased, and colonists are only wanting to augment it to an inconceivable extent. How valuable then do these colonies become, and of what importance are they, in any negociation with the enemy. Unquestionably under the fostering care and guidance of British jurisprudence, they would produce an accumulated export infinitely beyond the present computation, and be productive of increasing wealth to the merchant, and revenue to the country. The lands are still more fertile proceeding towards the interior, and being thinly inhabited, are attainable with great facility, and are extremely various in their productions. At this period these valuable possessions were nearly in a defenceless state, having a very inadequate and feeble military force to defend them, and being almost without naval protection; they had literally only an armed brig and schooner, built and set a float by the colony of Demerary, to guard an extensive coast, and an immense property. In addition to the foregoing enumeration of commerce, indigo, pepper, cacoa, or chocolate nut, &c. may be raised to great amount. Of the latter, an individual planter at Berbice, from a nursery of 500,000 trees had 138,000 bearing ones in 1806, which when gathered in, calculating 5lb. to each tree, will reimburse him in the sum of £32,000. Retrospectively viewed, it will appear that the colonies of Dutch Guiana are of the utmost importance to the revenue, and wealth of Great Britain. If any consequence is attached by government to the West Indies, and it would be preposterous to infer that there is not, these become of great magnitude in the estimation of our colonial possessions, and if they are to revert to their former proprietors, it evidently should be for no mean equivalent; and it is but justice to say, that when I was in this part of the world, the apparent negligence in the protection and jurisdiction of these possessions, by the administration of the day, had so far alienated the minds of the inhabitants, that their reversion to the former government did not appear to be a subject which would excite their regret; although they were originally predisposed in favour of Great Britain. Contemplating also Dutch Guiana in our present state of warfare, and viewing it, from its contiguity, as an alliance of magnitude to French Guiana, the Brazils, and the Spanish settlements of South America, from whence, in the existing situation of Europe, the insatiate ambition of our inveterate enemy derives an important sinew of finance, which nerves his arm in wielding the sword against the liberties and the existence of the United Kingdom, they become infinitely enhanced, and are of still more momentous consideration. Indisputably their possession would tend much to facilitate the British dominion in this lucrative portion of the globe, which might lead to a decisive termination of hostilities, and the permanent establishment of honourable tranquillity. On the morning of the 30th of October I took my grateful leave of my hospitable host and his family; and, accompanied by my trusty friend, fellow voyager and traveller, Captain Brown, I embarked at noon on board the ship Admiral Nelson, the command of which he had taken, accompanied by about 20 sail of vessels under convoy of his Majesty's sloop of war, the Cygnet, commanded by------Maude, Esq. Touching at Tobago, where our fleet was augmented, we came to an anchor in the harbour of Grenada, on the 5th of November, and remained there until the 9th. The history of this island, with that of the West Indies in general, is so well known, that it would be delaying my readers unnecessarily, for me to obtrude my observations. One anecdote, however, which among a variety of experiments, I made to ascertain the sentiments of the Negroes in the colonies, may prove, in a high degree, their sentiments upon their present condition. When I mentioned to them some spot, or some head man in their country within their recollection, with the utmost extacy they would say, "eh! you look that, massa?" I then assured them I had, and described the pullam, or palm tree, in their native town: the effect of this remembrance was instantaneous, and demonstrated by the most extravagant expressions of delight. Conceiving that I had attained my object, and being persuaded that the transportation of these people was an oppressive transgression against their natural rights, I added, "I had fine ship, I go back to their country, and obtain leave from massa, to let them go look their country;" a sudden transition from extravagance to grave reflection followed; "I, massa, me like that very well, me like much to look my country; but suppose, massa, they make me slave, me no see my massa again; all the same to me where I be slave, but me like my massa best, and I no look my country with you." Among every class with whom 1 have conversed on this subject, I have uniformly received a similar answer, and it is a convincing proof that, by humane treatment, the condition of the slave is improved, not only by his transportation to the colonies, but in his own estimation. It may be interesting to notice, that at the island of Grenada, I had an opportunity of correctly ascertaining the truth of a statement, I had heard from a medical gentleman of respectability at Demerary, that, that ravager of the human species, the yellow fever, was first imported into this island from the island of Bulam, in the Rio Grande, upon the coast of Africa, by a ship called the Hankey, which brought away the sickly colonists from that unfortunate expedition. On the 16th we arrived at Tortola, and on the 19th sailed with the fleet under convoy of the La Seine frigate, and landed at Liverpool on the 6th of January, 1806. CHAPTER XI. _Conclusion_. I have endeavoured in the foregoing pages, to introduce to my readers, the substance of my diary of observations upon the Windward Coast of Africa. Originally I only intended them for my own private satisfaction, and that of my intimate friends; but on my arrival in England, I found that the commerce of Africa was then a particular subject in agitation, among a large portion of my fellow subjects, and the legislature of my country. Under these circumstances, I conceived it my duty as a British commercial subject, and as a friend to humanity, to communicate my sentiments to the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Howick, then one of his Majesty's principal secretaries of state; which I did in the subjoined letter. (Appendix No. I.) Upon further reflection, and by the express wish of respectable individuals, I have been induced to obtrude my narrative and sentiments upon the notice of the public. I have avoided as much as possible to magnify my personal adventures, and dangers, nor have I had recourse to the flowing periods of description, preferring a simple narrative of facts formed upon grounds of personal observation. From thence, if my endeavours tend to awaken a spirit of enterprise, to enlarge the trade of the united kingdom, and to increase the export of its manufactures, or lead to more intelligent interference in behalf of the enslaved African, my design will be accomplished. To do justice to the natural history of Africa, and to introduce to the public its various sources of commerce, would require a union of political interests, and vigorous execution, which none but government can apply with full effect. The principal outline which I have endeavoured to confine myself to, is a recital of such traits of the disposition and character of the natives, as seem requisite to be understood to form an accurate judgment of the present condition of Africa. The advantages that may possibly result not only from moral, but political considerations, in forming upon sure principles, agricultural and mercantile establishments, calculated to instruct and civilize the Negroes employed in the necessary avocations, will unfold the fertility of their soil which is now left to nature; and will also fulfil the expectations of a rational humanity, while it might rapidly expel slavery and the Slatee trade, to the establishment of civilization, and more natural commerce. I have also endeavoured to demonstrate the eligibility of the position of the river Sierra Leone, from whence a controlling and administrative authority might employ the resources of the Windward Coast from Cape Verde to Cape Palmas, at the same time submitting solely to the wisdom of government, the propriety of annexing Senegal to our possessions on the coast; which of course would tend to the total exclusion of France from this part of the world. I have besides dwelt upon such positions, as appear to me best calculated to establish factories of trade and agricultural operation; and upon the nations whose barbarism must first be subdued, in order to influence other tribes, and to obtain a free intercourse with the interior, and have pointed out those chiefs whose dispositions and influence, would greatly co-operate to facilitate this beneficent undertaking. The rivers I have dwelt upon, are surrounded with fertile lands and a numerous population, and may be navigated a considerable distance into the interior country; and by reducing all operations to one well adapted system, under the guidance of experience, moderation, and wisdom, I am firmly persuaded that success will be the result. What I have said relative to the present state of the natives of Africa, may tend to demonstrate the nature of the opposition, which civilization has to guard against, and the barbarism it has to contend with. The condition of a free Negro in Africa is easy and contented, and the class of slaves attached to them, are satisfied with their fate. They only are to be lamented, who are procured from condemnation, either for real or imaginary crimes, or who are taken in war; and it is from this class that slaves are procured by other nations. It is a remarkable circumstance, that the major part of these unhappy creatures come from the interior, and that the maritime places which have had intercourse with Europeans, afford only a small number of slaves; and I am persuaded, abominable as the slave trade may be considered, and disgraceful as it is, that it has saved many human beings from a premature and barbarous death. I am also firmly of opinion, that it is only by a _gradual abolition_, and a rational system to civilize the inhabitants of Africa, that this detested traffic can be effectually abolished. A rational philosophy and humanity, should first have submitted to political necessity, and have commenced experiment upon practicable theories, while the sacred rights of property should have been regarded, and well considered. This opinion may perhaps subject me to the animadversion of many worthy individuals; but I beg to assure them, that I am as zealous an abolitionist as any among my fellow subjects, although I widely differ from many of them, as to the means of effecting a measure, that embraces so large a portion of the human race; and I should contradict the conviction of my own mind, were I to utter any other opinion. Rectitude of intention, a lively interest in the condition of the African, and a deep impression of the importance of this country to Great Britain, in a commercial point of view, have actuated me in obtruding myself upon the public; and before I take my leave, I earnestly entreat a deliberate investigation of the imperfect system of operation, I have recommended in the foregoing pages. If I have not been sufficiently perspicuous, I trust the shafts of criticism will be enfeebled by the consideration, that a commercial education and pursuit cannot claim a title to literary acquirements; but if in any instance I meet the judgment of a discerning public, and my suggestions excite more competent endeavours, I shall feel the highest pleasure, and satisfaction. Into the hands of an enlightened legislature, and a beneficent public, I commit the Negro race; and may their endeavours be blest by Providence! may they tend to enlarge the circle of civilized and Christian society, and augment the commercial prosperity of the United Kingdom! APPENDIX. No. I. _To the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Howick, his Majesty's late principal Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs; shewing at one View the most simple and ready Mode of gradually and effectually abolishing the Slave Trade, and eradicating Slavery, on the Eve of his Lordship introducing the late Bill into Parliament for the Abolition of the Slate Trade_. _London, 5th February, 1807._ MY LORD, Stimulated by an ardent zeal for the political and commercial interests of my country, and animated by the principles of humanity, I venture to approach your Lordship upon a subject which, with every deference, I conceive to be of the most momentous consequence at the present conjuncture, namely, the existing state of Africa, and the relative importance of its trade to the _United Kingdom_. In my communications to your Lordship, I shall adhere to that brevity which is consistent with perspicuity, and a recognition of the importance attached to your Lordship's time and weighty engagements. If experimental knowledge, my Lord, attaches any force to the observations I now submit to your Lordship, I have to premise, that they are the result of recent personal investigation, and are a summary of remarks detailed in journals of a very excursive observation on the Windward Coast of Africa, and a peculiar facility of intercourse with the chiefs and native tribes of a widely extended circle, from which I am returned, by the West Indies, in the late fleet under the convoy of his Majesty's frigate La Seine, and Merlin sloop of war. As a preliminary introduction, permit me to refer your Lordship to the annexed copy of a letter, (Appendix No. II.) which I ventured to address to the Right Honourable the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, dated 1st May, ultimo, in which is exemplified the present state of commerce from the Island of Goree to Cape Palmas. Vide page 54. Conclusive as this example may be of its magnitude, yet it is infinitely below its attainable increase. The want of naval protection, and the patronage of government, has greatly fettered it, and exposed the property engaged therein, to the incursions and destructive depredations of the enemy. Connected with its present extent, the Gambia, the Rio Pongo, the river Sierra Leone, and the rivers adjacent to Cape Palmas, abound with the greatest variety of the most lucrative and rare objects of commercial pursuit, namely, indigo, numerous plants for staining, pepper, cotton, and a multifarious enumeration of dormant productions, besides timber of various kinds, adapted to the building of ships destined to tropical climates, having the peculiar quality of resisting the worm, so ruinous to shipping, and corroding iron; it may be cut into planks of 20 feet by 15 inches, and may be procured in any quantity. A retrospective view therefore, my Lord, displays a fruitful field to commercial enterprise, to the attention of civilized nations, to the naturalist, and to the metaphysician, requiring united interference only, to unfold and fertilize them; which in effect, would tend to enfranchise a kindred species, absorbed in barbarism, and preserve, uninterrupted, our commercial advantages with this extraordinary and important quarter of the globe. It is, certainly, my Lord, a subject of the deepest regret to the philanthropist, that among the Africans, a devoted race is consigned to the galling fetters of slavery by their inhuman customs, by their barbarous hostilities, and the commercial expedients of civilized states. Much has been written and said, my Lord, upon this interesting subject, from authority high in rank, in talents, and situation, but still it is involved in a perplexed labyrinth; the attainable sources of African commerce remain unexplored, and the inhabitants of its extensive regions are still entangled by the thraldom of barbarous customs, and superstitious infidelity. No efficient measures have been adopted, upon practicable grounds, to unite the views of humanity and commerce in one harmonious compact, compatible with the present condition of Africa, its character, its customs, and its inveterate barbarism. Benevolence has, unhappily, hitherto failed in its objects, through the opposition of a peculiar mixture of passions, of obstinate ferocity, and licentious and hereditary habits. To subdue the inveteracy of these evils, and to establish the manumission of the African, alluring and progressive alterations are necessary, compatible with his present condition, under the influence of agriculture and mechanics, adapted to the useful purposes of life, to commerce, and to navigation. Previous to his enfranchisement, my Lord, these must exhibit before him their facinations upon his native plains. Too impetuous and indolent to observe the forms, or to enter into the necessary details of business, he views the effect without investigating the cause; but when he perceives the former, and contemplates his own comparative wretchedness, and contracted sphere of intellect, he will be roused from his innate indolence, his powers will be dilated, and his emulation stimulated to attain a more exalted state of being, while his barbarism will fall before the luminous displays of enlightened example. Hence, to free the African, commercial and agricultural societies adapted to the present state of the country, appear to be the most practicable means, and the only sources of remunerative and effective influence: but as these measures necessarily require population from the parent state, aided by great pecuniary support, and intelligent superintendance; the patronage of the legislature is indispensibly requisite, to aid individual and corporate endeavours. In pursuance hereof, imperceptible and circumspect approach at innovation upon the laws, customs, and country of Africa, are highly expedient; the chiefs and head men claim a primary consideration; their obstinate predilection in favour of long-existing usage must be cajoled, the inveteracy of their jealousies and superstitions be dexterously removed, and their sordid avarice flattered, by the judicious maxims of policy, and by the prospects of superior gain. The slave trade, therefore, being lucrative, and of immemorial existence, must, in the interim, pursue its present course, as a fatality attached to the condition of Africa, and as a polluted alliance, which the dictates of policy and humanity impose, until a succedaneum is found in its stead. While this invidious exigency obstructs the immediate manumission of the slave, it does not the less accelerate it in conformity thereto, but on the contrary, is a necessary preliminary to his efficacious emancipation. Before he is admitted into the political society of his master, and is allowed to be free, his intellectual faculties must be expanded by the example of polished society, and by the arts of civilization. Maxims of policy, my Lord, are often apparently little consonant with those of morality; and where an inveterate evil in society is to be eradicated, address and delicacy in managing the humours and interests of men, are arts requisite to success. This consideration is applicable to the present condition of the Africans, and may perhaps justify a farther continuance of the _slave trade_, as compatible with its _radical abolition_. The reasonings adopted by a numerous assemblage of chiefs, convened in the retirement of the mountains of Sierra Leone, when _that_ company assumed a defensive attitude, most clearly prove this grievous necessity. In their idiom of our language they say, "White man now come among us with new face, talk palaver we do not understand, they bring new fashion, great guns, and soldiers into our country, but they make no trade, or bring any of the fine money of their country with them, therefore we must make war, and kill these white men." This, my Lord, is an impressive epitome of the sentiments of the whole country, and hence the impolicy of illuminating their minds and abolishing slavery, in order to erect a system of reformation upon an invidious base in the estimation of the governing characters of the country. With every deference, my Lord, to the wisdom and benevolence which framed the constitution of the Sierra Leone Company, I would observe, that had they adopted the following measures, they would before now have been far advanced in their scheme of reformation. 1st. They should have employed their funds in the established commerce of the country. 2d. Have purchased slaves from as _wide an extent_ of native tribes as was practicable; they should have employed them in that capacity, under the superintendence of the European colonist; have initiated them into the arts of agriculture and useful mechanics, manufactures, and navigation, and have instructed them in the rudiments of letters, religion, and science, &c. 3d. having arrived at this state of civilization and knowledge, their _graduated manumission_ should have proceeded in proportion to their fidelity and attainments. And, lastly, being thus qualified, they should have employed them as the agents to their tribe, to make known to them the arcana of wealth in their country, dormant through hereditary barbarism and superstitious idolatry, From the adoption of the first proposition, a facility of intercourse with the interior and native tribes would have been acquired, and also a knowledge of the genius, policy, customs, manners, and commercial resources of the neighbouring nations. By the 2d, the seeds of science would have been disseminated throughout an extended district, and a spirit of industry and enquiry would have been infused, which, by imperceptible degrees, under the guidance of Providence, might eventually have been spread throughout the most remote regions of Africa. By means of the 3d, the objects of humanity would have been realized. And by the progressive influence of the last, a system of civilization and commercial enterprize would have been diffused, and an equivalent, in process of time, been obtained, consistent with the cogency of existing circumstances, and the African's present state of being. By adopting this system, my Lord, the maxims of sagacious policy, and the claims of humanity, upon practicable principles, may be united, and adapted to the present condition of Africa, while our commerce therewith will be invigorated and encreased, and will flow without interruption through a less polluted channel; the seclusion of the African from the refined arts of society be annihilated, his jealousies allayed, his nature regenerated, his barbarism fall before the advantages of enlightened existence, and his enslaved customs make their natural exit, together with the slave trade, from his shores and his country. How animating is this contemplation, my Lord, to the beneficence of enlightened nations, and how worthy of the magnanimity of a British government to effect! In the interim, my Lord, new and accumulated sources of commerce, &c. will remunerate the parent state in a manner more congenial with the natural rights of mankind, while a monumental column will be erected to humanity, which will perpetuate its exalted benevolence, and excite the admiration of, and be an example to, the civilized world; but if Africa is abandoned by Great Britain, it will be subject to the rapacity of other nations, who, _to my personal knowledge_, are _now_ directing their views towards its commerce in the contemplation of that abandonment, and who will, no doubt, seize it with avidity, as being highly lucrative and important; while the African's chains will still clink in the ears of the civilized world, his fetters be rivetted more closely, and his miserable fate be consigned to the uncertainty of human events. Finally, permit me to assure your Lordship, that I am wholly uninfluenced, and that I am, at this moment, ignorant of the present opinions of men in Europe upon this interesting subject, as I have just arrived in England, and have been excluded for some time past from any other scene but that of personal observation in Africa. I have considered the subject with deep interest, and finding the momentous question upon the eve of being agitated by the legislature, I have conceived it my duty, as a British commercial Subject, to give every information to your Lordship, within my personal knowledge, and have, therefore, obtruded my thoughts upon you; and if your Lordship deems a more detailed and systematic view of my journals of any interest, I am ready to unfold them with the utmost alacrity. In the interim, I am, My Lord, Your Lordship's most obedient humble servant, JOSEPH CORRY. No. II. _To the Right Honourable the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty,_ _referred to in the foregoing Letter to Lord Howick._ _Bance Island, River Sierra Leone, Coast of Africa,_ _May 1st, 1806._ MY LORDS, That consideration which has uniformly distinguished your Lordships for the safe-guardianship of our commerce, and the property engaged in it, stimulates me to approach your Lordships with some few observations on the present state of the African trade, and its dependencies. My object is, to submit to your Lordships a statement of the British capital involved in that commerce, as exemplified by the present amount of export, diligently ascertained from the most authentic sources of intelligence, and to offer some brief remarks on its importance to the United Kingdom, and the necessity of a more adequate naval protection. In the first place, permit me to solicit your Lordships' attention to the estimate of annual export from the Windward Coast of Africa. (Vide page 54.) Your Lordships will perceive, that the amount of export _only_ is here under review; and I submit to your consideration the capital vested in the necessary shipping, also the property of British factors, resident on the Coast, and factories belonging to merchants at home, which forms another article of great importance. During the present war, from the Rio Noonez to the river Sierra Leone, 660 slaves, and more than the value of 100 slaves in craft, have fallen into the hands of the enemy; which were forcibly seized upon the premises of factories, the property of British subjects, to the amount of 35,000_l_. at the computation of 50 each, valuing them upon an equitable average: moreover, about one hundred resident free people have been involved in this violence, of incalculable importance, and ground of indefinite claims from the natives. When your Lordships contemplate these facts, and the annual emolument derived from this commerce by the government, and a numerous body of merchants, it may be presumed that its magnitude is of sufficient consequence to justify the expense of _adequate naval protection_. British subjects connected with, and resident on, the Coast, are consequently become deeply interested, and are earnestly solicitous for an extension of your Lordships' paternal care towards their possessions. The principal amount, as before shewn, necessarily in the progress of business, passes into currency through their hands, which, with the surplus property they have in their stores, their buildings, and people, creates a momentous risque, which is exposed to the predatory ravages of piccaroon privateers, and to the hostile squadrons and depredations of the enemy. With all due retrospective reference to your Lordships' vigilance and watchful guardianship over our commerce, I take the liberty to remind your Lordships, that only one sloop of war, the Arab, (the Favourite being taken) has been charged with the important office of defending an extent of coast of upwards of 1000 miles, against the sweeping hand of the enemy; an example of which has fatally occurred in the late destruction effected by Commodore L'Hermitte's squadron, to the very serious injury of many British merchants, and perhaps the ruin of many underwriters upon African risques. From the apparent approaches the legislature appears to make towards an abolition of the slave trade, the object of consideration for the defence of the coast of Africa may have become of less comparative magnitude; but when upwards of one million in export from thence, and its enumerated appendages, are entangled, and at imminent hazard, an animated and impressive appeal is made your Lordships for every practicable security, while it remains in existence; and to the legislative wisdom, for a remuneration commensurate thereto, in the event of its annihilation. Trusting that your Lordships will deign to recognize the importance of this subject, and will vouchsafe to pardon my temerity in assuming to suggest to your Lordships' wisdom the expediency of establishing a more adequate and permanent naval force for the protection of the trade and coast of Africa, I am, My Lord, Your Lordship's most obedient devoted humble servant, JOSEPH CORRY. No. III. When the foregoing narrative and observations were prepared for the press, the original minutes from whence the following Appendix is compiled, had not come to hand, as they remained with a part of my papers, which I have since received from the coast of Africa. The substance of these miscellaneous fragments I shall divide into sections, descriptive of the different subjects to which they allude, and it may be found that they illustrate more fully many of the foregoing remarks upon the Windward Coast of Africa. SECTION I. _Of the Purrah_. Among the singular customs of the inhabitants of Africa, there exists in the vicinity of the Sierra Leone, and more particularly among the mixed tribes of the Foolahs, Soosees, Boolams, &c. an institution of a religious and political nature. It is a confederation by a solemn oath, and binds its members to inviolable secrecy not to discover its mysteries, and to yield an implicit obedience to superiors, called by the natives the _Purrah_. As it is dangerous to enquire from the natives, and consequently difficult to procure information on this subject, conjecture must supply the want of oral and ocular testimony; but what I have here advanced I had from an intelligent chief, who was a member of the society, who, I am nevertheless convinced, preserved his integrity, in communicating the following particulars, as I never could induce him to touch upon any part of the mysteries, which he acknowledged to exist, but spoke of them with the utmost reserve. The members of this secret tribunal are under the supreme control of a sovereign, whose superior, or _head man_, commands by his council, absolute submission and authority from the subordinate councils and members. To be admitted into the confederacy it is necessary to be thirty years of age; and to be a member of the grand _purrah_, fifty years; and the oldest member of the subordinate _purrahs_ form those of the sovereign _purrahs_. No candidate is admitted but at the recommendation and responsibility of members, who imprecate his death, if he betrays fear during his initiation into the ceremonies, or the sacred mysteries of the association; from which females are entirely excluded. Some months elapse, in the preparation for admission, and the candidate passes through the severest trials, in which every dreadful expedient is employed to ascertain his firmness of mind, and courage. The candidate is conducted to a sacred wood, where a place is appointed for his habitation, from which he dares not absent himself; if he does, he is immediately surrounded and struck dead. His food is supplied by men masked, and he must observe an uniform silence. Fires, during the night, surround these woods, to preserve them inviolate from the unhallowed steps of curiosity, into which if indiscretion tempts any one to enter, a miserable exit is the result. When the trials are all gone through, _initiation_ follows; the candidate is first sworn to secrecy, to execute implicitly the decrees of the _purrah_ of his order, and to be devoted to the commands of the _sovereign purrah_. During the process of initiation, the hallowed woods resound with dreadful howlings, shrieks, and other horrid noises, accompanied by conflagrations and flames. This secret and inquisitorial tribunal takes cognizance of crimes and delinquencies, more especially witchcraft and murder; and also operates as a mediator in wars, and dissentions among powerful tribes and chiefs. Its interference is generally attended with effect, more particularly if accompanied by a threat of vengeance from the _purrah_; and a suspension of hostilities is scrupulously observed, until it is determined who is the aggressor; while this investigation takes place by the sovereign _purrah_, as many of the warriors are convoked, as they conceive necessary to enforce their judgment, which usually consigns the guilty to a pillage of some days. To execute the decree, they avail themselves of the night to depart from the place where the sovereign _purrah_ is assembled, previously disguising their persons with hideous objects, and dividing themselves into detachments, armed with torches and warlike weapons; they arrive at the village of the condemned, and proclaim with tremendous yells the decree of the sovereign _purrah_. The affrighted victims of superstition and injustice are either murdered or made captives, and no longer form a people among the tribes. The produce arising from this horrid and indiscriminate execution of the decrees of this tribunal is divided equally between the injured tribe, and the sovereign _purrah_; the latter share is again subdivided among the warriors employed in the execution of its diabolical decree, as a recompense for their zeal, obedience, and promptitude. The families of the tribes under the dominion of this infernal confederacy, when they become objects of suspicion or rivalry, are subjected to immediate pillage, and if they resist, are dragged into their secret recesses, where they are condemned, and consigned to oblivion. Its supreme authority is more immediately confined to the Sherbro; and the natives of the Bay of Sierra Leone speak of it with reserve and dread: they consider the brotherhood as having intercourse with the _bad spirit_, or devil, and that they are sorcerers, and invulnerable to human power. Of course the _purrah_ encourages these superstitious prejudices, which establish their authority and respect, as the members are numerous, and are known to each other by certain signs and expressions. The Mandingos have also their sacred woods and mysteries, where, by their delusions and exorcisms, they prepare their children for circumcision. The Soosees, inhabiting the borders of the Rio Pongo, have a species of _purrah_, which gives its members great consequence among them; but their ceremonies are kept also with inviolable secrecy, and they are bound by horrid oaths and incantations. These people seem to delight in disseminating improbable tales of their institution, and their invention appears to be exhausted in superstitious legends of its mysteries. The Timmanees have an inquisitorial institution called _bunda_, noticed in page 72, to which women only are subjected. The season of penitence is superintended by an elderly woman, called _bunda_ woman; and fathers even consign their wives and daughters to her investigation when they become objects of suspicion. Here is extracted from them an unreserved confession of every crime committed by themselves, or to which they are privy in others. Upon their admission they are besmeared with white clay, which obliterates every trace of human appearance, and they are solemnly abjured to make an unequivocal confession; which if not complied with, they are threatened with death as the inevitable consequence. The general result is a discovery of fact and falsehood, in proportion as their fears of punishment are aroused, which the _bunda_ woman makes known to the people who assemble in the village or town where the _bunda_ is instituted. If she is satisfied with the confession, the individual is dismissed from the _bunda_, and, as is noticed in Chapter VII. an act of oblivion is passed relative to her former conduct; but where the crime of witchcraft is included, slavery is uniformly the consequence: those accused as partners of her guilt are obliged to undergo the ordeal by _red water_, redeem themselves by slaves, or go into slavery themselves. When the _bunda_ woman is dissatisfied with the confessions, she makes the object sit down, and after rubbing poisonous leaves, procured for the purpose, between her hands, and infusing them in water, she makes her drink in proportion to its strength. It naturally occasions pain in the bowels, which is considered as an infallible evidence of guilt. Incantations and charms are then resorted to by the _bunda_ woman, to ascertain what the concealed crime is, and after a _decent_ period employed in this buffoonery, the charges are brought in conformity with the imagination or malignity of this priestess of mystery and iniquity. During the continuance of this engine of avarice, oppression, and fraud in any town, the chiefs cause their great drum and other instruments of music to be continually in action, and every appearance of festive hilarity pervades among the inhabitants, accompanied by the song and the dance. Contumacy, or a refusal to confess, is invariably followed by death. In short, the bewildered natives feel the effects, and dread the power of these extraordinary institutions; they know they exist, but their deliberations and mysteries are impenetrably concealed from them; and the objects of their vengeance are in total ignorance, until the annihilating stroke of death terminates their mortal career. It is impossible to contemplate the religious institutions, and superstitious customs of the western nations of Africa, north of the equator, without closely assimilating them with those of Ethiopia and Egypt; and from hence to infer that a correspondence has existed between the eastern and western inhabitants of this great continent. SECTION II. _Of the_ Termite, Termes, _or_ Bug a Bug, _as it is called by the Natives upon the Windward Coast of Africa._ Among the insects mentioned in page 36, the _termite, termes_, or _bug a bug_, attracts peculiar notice. The following observations are derived from the investigations I occasionally made upon the Island of Tasso, attached to Bance Island, where they abound, and indeed in nearly all the western countries of Africa. The oeconomy of nature, and the wisdom of Providence, are wonderfully displayed in these little animals; for although they occasion the utmost devastation to buildings, utensils, and all kinds of household furniture and merchandize, and indeed every thing except metal and stone, yet they answer highly important purposes in demolishing the immense quantity of putrid substances, which load the earth in tropical climates. Their astonishing peculiarities cannot fail to excite the notice of an attentive observer; the sagacity and ingenuity they display in their buildings, their industry, and the plunder and devastation they commit, is incredible to those who have not witnessed their communities and empires. They are divided into innumerable societies, and acknowledge a king and queen, the former of which I brought to Europe, but the latter was by accident mislaid at sea. Linnaeus denominates the African _bug a bug, Termes_, and describes it as the plague of the Indies. Every community, as I have observed, has a king and queen, and the monarchy, if I may be allowed the expression, forms three distinct orders of insects, in three states of existence; of every species there are likewise three orders, which differ very essentially in the functions they have to perform, and are in appearance very different. In their primitive state, they are perfectly white; they have six little feet, three on each side, and a small head, in which I could perceive no eyes, after a minute investigation with a microscope. In this state they supply the community with provisions from subterraneous cavities, fabricate their pyramidical buildings, and may with great propriety be called labourers. In a few weeks they destroy the largest trunks of trees, carry away all descriptions of putrid substances, and particles of vegetable decay, which, in such a climate as Africa, amply compensates for the ruin which they otherwise occasion. Their buildings are contrived and finished with great ingenuity and solidity, to a magnitude infinitely beyond the erections of man, when a comparative dimension of size is considered. They are usually termed hills, and are generally in a conical form, from 10 to 12 feet in perpendicular height, and frequently upwards of 100 feet square in the base. For a considerable period, vegetation is banished from the surface of their abode, but from the second to the third year, it becomes like the surrounding soil. The exterior forms a crust, which shelters the interior from the weather, and the community from the attacks of enemies. The interior is divided into almost innumerable chambers or apartments, with amazing regularity and contrivance; in the centre of which is the royal residence of the king and queen, composed of solid clay, closely compacted, and distinct from the external habitation, which accommodate their subjects. It appears that the royal erection is the first which occupies the attention of the labourers, as it is central in the foundation of the hill which composes the empire at large. This makes its first appearance above the surface of the earth in various turrets, in the form of a sugar loaf, from which they increase their number, widening them from the base; the middle one is the highest and largest, and they fill up the spaces as they proceed, until the whole is formed into one. This compact construction is admirably adapted to guard against external violence, and to preserve a genial warmth and moisture to cherish the hatching of the eggs, and the young. The queen is by far the largest, and has an unwieldy body, of enormous dimensions, when compared with her subjects; so also is the king, but inferior in size to the queen. The royal residence is a full constructed hill, surrounded by an innumerable number of others, differing in shape and dimensions, arched in various forms, circular, and elliptical, which communicate by passages, occupied by guards and attendants, and surrounded by nurseries and magazines. But when the community is in an infant state, these are contiguous to the royal residence; and in proportion as the size of the queen increases, her chamber is enlarged, and her attendants and apartments multiplied. The construction of the outward apartments which surround the central royal residence, that of the _common father_ and _mother_ of the community, form an intricate labyrinth of nurseries and magazines, separated by chambers and galleries, communicating with each other, and continuing towards the surface of the pyramid; and being arched, they support each other, and are uniformly larger towards the centre. The second order of _termes_ are like the first, blind and active, but they undergo a change of form, approaching to the perfect state; they are much larger, and increase from about a quarter of an inch in length to half an inch, and greater in bulk; and what is still more remarkable, the mouth is armed with sharp claws, and the head is disproportionably enlarged. They may properly be called the nurses and warriors of the kingdom; they urge their fellow subjects in the _first_ state to labour, they inspect the construction of the interior apartments, repel all attacks from enemies, and devour them with fury; and may be considered as the standing army of the state. In the third and last stage, they are winged; their bodies then measure about 7/8ths of an inch in length, furnished with four brownish transparent wings, rather large; they have eyes also of a disproportionate size, visible to the observer. When they make their appearance in this state, it is indicative of the approach of the rainy season. At this period they procreate their species. They seldom wait before they take wing for a second or third shower; and should the rain happen in the night, the quantities of them which are found the next morning upon the surface of the earth, and on the waters, more particularly upon the latter, are astonishing. The term of existence at this stage is extremely short, and frequently on the following morning after they have taken flight, they are surprisingly weakened and decreased; at the utmost I do not think they live more than two days; and these insects, so industrious, courageous, and destructive in the two first periods of their existence, become the prey of innumerable enemies. Indolent, and incapable of resisting the smallest insects, they are hunted by various species from place to place, and not one pair in millions get into a place of safety, to fulfil the laws of nature and propagation. Their wings in a short time fall from them, and the ponds and brooks are covered with their carcases. The Negroes in many places collect them in their calabashes, dry them, and fry them on a slow fire, which they consider as a delicious morsel. A few, however, escape the general dissolution, several pairs of them are found by those of the first genus, as they are continually moving over the surface of the earth, and are carried by them to found new kingdoms and communities. The royal mansion is then erected, as before described, their wings fall off, and they pass the remainder of their existence in indolence and luxury, and in the propagation of their species. Their dimensions now undergo a monstrous change, more especially the queen; her abdomen augments by degrees, and increases to a prodigious size, when compared with her two first stages of existence; and the king, although greatly augmented, yet is diminutive compared to his enormous spouse, who sometimes exceeds three inches in length. She is in this state extremely prolific, and the matrix is almost perpetually yielding eggs, which are taken from her by her attendants, and are carried into the adjoining nurseries. The foregoing is a very imperfect delineation of this wonderful insect, which requires the minutest description by an experienced and scientific naturalist to illustrate clearly; and there are many secrets in the natural history of this little animal that would amply reward his investigation upon the different circumstances attending its existence. Those that build in trees, or erect pyramids, have a strong resemblance to each other, and pass through the same stages to the winged state, but they are not of so large a size as the foregoing; and it is a very singular circumstance, that of all these different species, neither the labourers nor soldiers expose themselves to the open air, but travel in subterraneous vaults, unless when they are obstructed and impelled by necessity; and when their covered ways and habitations are destroyed, it is wonderful how quickly they will rebuild them. I have frequently destroyed them in the evening, and have found them re-erected on the following morning. When a pair, in the perfect state, is rescued from the general devastation which attends these little animals, they are by the two first species elected king and queen, and are inclosed in a chamber, as before described, around which a new empire is formed, and pyramids are erected. That species which builds in trees, frequently establish their abode in houses also, which in time they will entirely destroy, if not extirpated. The large kind, however, are more destructive, and more difficult to guard against, as their approaches are principally made under-ground, and below the foundation; they rise either in the floors, or under the posts, which in African buildings support the roof, and as they proceed, they form cavities towards the top, similar to the holes bored in the bottom of ships by the worms, which appear to answer the same purpose in water as the _termites_ do upon land. How convincing is this fact of the infinitely wise arrangements of the Creator, who has united, in the whole system of creation, one uniform conformation of order and utility; for although the _vermis_, or worm, which is so pernicious to shipping in tropical climates, and the _termite_, possess so many destructive qualities, yet these very properties serve the most important purposes and designs. Scarcely any thing perishable on land escapes the _termite_, or in water, the worm; and it is from thence evident, that these animals are designed by nature to rid both of incumbrances, which in tropical climates would be attended with putrefaction and disease. The first object which strikes the attention, and excites admiration, upon opening and investigating the hills of the _termites_, is, the conduct of the armed species, or soldiers; when a breach is made by a pick-axe, or hoe, they instantaneously sally forth in small parties round the breach, as if to oppose the enemy, or to examine the nature of the attack, and the numbers increase to an incredible degree as long as it continues; parties frequently return as if to give the alarm to the whole community, and then rush forth again with astonishing fury. At this period they are replete with rage, and make a noise which is very distinguishable, and is similar to the ticking of a watch; if any object now comes in contact with them, they seize it, and never quit their hold until they are literally torn in pieces. When the violence against their habitation ceases, they retire into their nests, as if nothing had happened, and the observer will instantaneously perceive the labourers at work, with a burthen of mortar in their mouths, which they stick upon the breach with wonderful facility and quickness; and although thousands and millions are employed, yet they never embarrass the proceedings of each other, but gradually fill up the chasm. While the labourers are thus employed, the greatest part of the soldiers retire, a few only being discernible, who evidently act as overseers, and at intervals of about a minute, make the vibrating noise before described, which is immediately answered by an universal hiss from the labourers, and at this signal they redouble their exertions with encreased activity. In minutely examining these hills, great obstacles present themselves to the observer; the apartments and nurseries which surround the royal habitation, and the whole internal fabric, are formed of moist brittle clay, and are so closely connected, that they can only be examined separately, for having a geometrical dependance upon each other, the demolition of one pulls down more; patience is therefore exhausted in the investigation, and it is impossible to proceed without interruption; for while the soldiers are employed in defending the breach, the labourers are engaged in barricading the different galleries and passages towards the royal chamber. In one apartment which I dug out from a hill, I was forcibly struck with their attachment and allegiance to their sovereigns; and as it is capacious enough to hold a great number of attendants, of which it has a constant supply, I had a fair opportunity offered for experiment, I secured it in a small box; and these faithful creatures never abandoned their charge; they were continually running about their king and queen, stopping at every circuit, as if to administer to them, and to receive their commands. Upon exposing their different avenues and chambers for a night only, before the next morning, provided the king and queen are preserved, and their apartments remain, it will be found that they are all shut up with a thin covering of clay, and every interstice in the ruins, through which either cold or wet could communicate, filled up, which is continued with unremitting industry until the building is restored to its pristine state. Besides these species, there are also the _marching termites_, of an encreased size, who make excursions in large bodies, and spread devastation in their way; but as my means of observation upon them was only accidental, it will be intruding an imperfect description to notice them at all; but if we form a conclusion from the immense number of _termites_ which everywhere abound in Africa, we shall be tempted to believe that their procreation is endless and unceasing. When the papers came to hand which contained the substance of these remarks upon this extraordinary insect, I did not intend to annex them to the Observations on the Windward Coast of Africa, nor am I without some doubt as to the propriety of so doing; the observation of the learned _naturalist_ only can ascertain the economy of the _termite_, or _bug a bug_, and I have therefore to apologize for obtruding these imperfect and general remarks. SECTION III. _Of the Cameleon_. The cameleon is a native of the torrid zone, and is a genus of the lizard: the faculty of assuming the colour of every object it approaches is ascribed to it, and other singular properties; but there are many rare phoenomena not so well understood, such as its absorption and expulsion of air at pleasure, its property of living a considerable time without any kind of nourishment, and its extraordinary visual advantages, which are perhaps not to be found in any other of the wonderful works of the creation. I have made various experiments to ascertain these extraordinary properties in this little animal; and I brought home one in a preserved state. The first object which struck my attention, was the variation of colour; and I am persuaded that it does not assume these from the surrounding objects, but that they proceed from internal sensations of pain, or otherwise. From the moment that the liberty of my captive was infringed upon, or when interrupted in its pursuits, it became less sensible of external objects, the vivacity of its colour, and the plumpness of its form underwent a visible change. Its natural colour is a beautiful green; and when in a state of liberty it is to be found in the grass, or lodged on the branches of some tree, ornamented with the gayest foilage; and it would appear that its liberty, and the privilege of living in the grass, are indispensible towards the preservation of its qualities. The colour of its skin, in a perfect state of health, is scarcely discernible from the trees and grass, in which it delights to conceal itself, and is not to be discovered at all without a very minute scrutiny. It remains immoveable for a length of time, and its motions are all cautious and slow, continuing to loll out its tongue, which is long and glutinous, in order to secure the little insects that are necessary to its nourishment; and I doubt not but it has an attractive influence over its prey, for I have observed them continually floating around the cameleon, when scarcely discernible in any other space. When the tongue is covered with a sufficient quantity it draws it in instantaneously, and by incessantly repeating the operation, all the insects within its reach are taken in the snare. That its health and existence depend upon being in the grass, I am persuaded, from the change occasioned by placing it in gravel or sand, when it immediately assumes a yellow tinge, its form is reduced considerably, and the air expelled, with which the body of this animal is inflated, so as visibly to reduce the size. If they are irritated in this situation, they expell the air so strong as even to be heard, gradually decreasing in size, and becoming more dull in colour, until at length they are almost black; but upon being carried into the grass, or placed on the branches of a tree, they quickly assume their wonted solidity and appearance. The victims of my observation I have frequently wrapped in cloth of various colours, and have left them for a considerable time, but when I visited them I did not find that they partook of any of the colours, but uniformly were of a tarnished yellow, or greyish black, the colours they always assume when in a state of suffering and distress, and I never could succeed in making them take any other when in a situation of constraint. The skin of the cameleon is of a very soft and delicate texture, and appears to the observer similar to a shagreen skin, elastic and pliable; and it may be owing to this extraordinary construction that it changes its colours and size with that facility which astonishes us; but what may be considered as a more wonderful faculty is, its expanding and contracting itself at pleasure, and, as it were, retaining the fluid in an uniform manner, when in health, but exhaling it when in a state of suffering, so as to reduce its dimensions to a more contracted size. Its peculiar organization is such, that the atmospheric air which it inhales so generally throughout every part of its body, distends and projects even its eyes and extremities. I have frequently seen it after many days fasting become suddenly plump, and continue so for a fortnight, when immediately it became nothing but a skeleton of skin and bone. The tenuity of its body is at these seasons astonishing, the spine of its back becomes pointed, the flesh of its sides adhere to each other, and apparently form one united subsance, when it will, in a few hours, at pleasure, resume its rotund state; and this appears to me to be a most extraordinary circumstance in the construction of this animal, which invites the minutest research of the naturalist. To convince myself how far the assertion might be admitted, that the cameleon can exist upon air, I have placed them in a cage, so constructed, as to exclude any thing else, even the minutest insect; when I have visited my captives, they have opened their mouths and expelled the air towards me so as to be felt and heard. In the first stage of their privation and imprisonment, which has continued for more than a month, I have found them in continual motion around their prison, but afterwards their excursions became more circumscribed, and they have sunk to the bottom, when their powers of distension and contraction became languid and decreased, and were never again capable of performing their accustomed transformation. The one which I brought to England preserved in spirits, after undergoing upwards of two months of famine, when I carried it among the grass, or placed it in the thick foliage of a tree, in little more than a week regained its green colour, and power of expansion; but not contented with my experiment, and determined to ascertain it to the utmost, I redoubled my precautions to exclude every thing but air, and my devoted victim was doomed to another series of trial, and continued to exist upwards of a month, when it fell a sacrifice to my curiosity. The eyes of the cameleon may also be considered a remarkable singularity; they are covered with a thin membrane, which nature has given it to supply the want of eye-lids, and this membrane is sunk in the centre by a lengthened hole, which forms an orifice, bordered by a shining circle. This covering follows all the motions of the eye so perfectly, that they appear to be one and the same; and the aperture, or lengthened hole, is always central to the pupil, the eyes moving in every direction, independant of each other; one eye will be in motion while the other is fixed, one looking behind while the other is looking before, and another directed above while its companion is fixed on the earth, so that its eyes move in every possible direction, independant of each other, without moving the head, which is closely compacted with the shoulders. By these quick evolutions its personal safety is guarded, and it perceives with quickness the insects and flies, which it is always entrapping by its glutinous tongue. Without doubt, this species of lizard possesses peculiarities well worthy the attention of naturalists, who only can define them; what I have said I have observed in my leisure moments, and must be considered as a very imperfect detail of its natural history. SECTION IV. _Of the Interment of the Dead._ The ceremony of burial upon the Windward Coast of Africa is conducted with great singularity, solemnity, and extravagant circumstances of condolence. The body of the deceased is wrapped up in a cloth, closely sewed around it, and the head is covered with a white cap of cotton, which is the colour universally adopted in mourning. The relatives of the deceased bedaub themselves from head to foot with white clay, upon which they form the most disgusting figures, while scarcely a leg or an arm exhibits the same feature. I have even seen serpents and other frightful animals delineated with great accuracy on many parts of the body, which gives them a most hideous appearance during the season of mourning. When the corps has been washed, and put into a white cloth of cotton, of the manufacture of the country, the whole is inclosed in a mat, and laid out in state. The corps is placed over the grave upon four sticks across, and after one of the nearest relatives has collected all the finery with which the deceased was accustomed to decorate himself, and that also which remains among his family, he asks him, with expressions of sorrow, if he wants such and such an article for his comfort in the other world, in which he is accompanied by the remainder of his family and friends, who join in _making cry,_ or more property speaking, in dancing and rejoicing. The following night the dance and song is continued with demonstrations of mirth and glee, and are kept up every successive night during that moon; and if the deceased has been of consequence in his tribe, these extravagant acts of lamentation continue for months together. _On the Amusements, Musical Instruments, &c. of the Africans._ Upon all occasions of mirth or sorrow, the dance is uniformly introduced, with monotonous songs, sometimes tender and agreeable, at other times savage and ferocious, but always accompanied by a slow movement; and it may with propriety be said, that all the nights in Africa are spent in dancing; for after the setting of the sun, every village resounds with songs, and music; and I have often listened to them with attention and pleasure, during the tranquil evenings of the dry season. Villages a league distant from each other frequently perform the same song, and alternately change it, for hours together. While this harmonic correspondence continues, and the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages chaunt their couplets, the youth of both sexes listen with the greatest attention and pleasure. Among the several kinds of instruments of music which accompany the ceremonies of mourning or mirth among the Africans, the drum is the principal. It is made from a hard thin wood, about three feet long, which is covered with a skin distended to the utmost. They strike it with the fingers of the right hand collected together, which serves to beat time in all their dances. Among the Foulahs and Soosees they have a kind of flute, made of a hard reed, which produces sounds both unmusical and harsh: but all the Africans of the Windward district are the most barbarous musicians that can be conceived. They have also a kind of guitar, formed from the calabash, which they call _kilara_. Some of these are of an enormous size, and the musician performs upon it by placing himself on the ground, and putting the _kilara_ between his thighs; he performs on it with both his hands, in a manner similar to the playing on the harp in this country. They have another instrument of a very complicated construction, about two feet deep, four feet long, and eighteen inches wide, which they call _balafau_. It is constructed by parallel intervals, covered with bits of hard polished wood, so as to give each a different tone, and are connected by cords of catgut fastened at each extremity of the instrument. The musician strikes these pieces of wood with knobbed sticks covered with skin, which produces a most detestable jargon of confused noise. Jugglers and buffoons are very common, and are the constant attendants of the courts of Negro kings and princes, upon whom they lavish the most extravagant eulogiums, and abject flattery. These jesters are also the panders of concupiscense; they are astrologers, musicians, and poets, and are well received every where, and live by public contribution. SECTION V. _Concluding Observations._ It has already been observed that cotton and indigo are indigenous to the Windward Coast of Africa. Tobacco grows in every direction, likewise cocoa, coffee, and aromatic plants would no doubt succeed by cultivation. A trade in raw hides might be carried on to a great extent; and the articles of wax, gold, ivory, emery, dyes, &c. might be greatly increased. Substances for making soap are to be found in great abundance; cattle, poultry, different kinds of game, fish, and various animals, fruits, and roots, abound, affording a great variety of the necessaries and luxuries of life: and European art and industry are only wanting to introduce the extensive culture of the sugar cane. The warmth and nature of the climate are peculiarly adapted to the maturing this plant, and there are many situations from Cape Verde to Cape Palmas, where this valuable production might undoubtedly be raised to great amount and perfection. In addition to the woods I have already named, there are many others for building, viz. _todso, worsmore,_ and a fine yellow wood, called _barzilla_, the _black_ and the _white mangrove_, boxwood of a superior quality, _conta_, a remarkable fine wood for building, and various kinds of mahogany, of a beautiful colour, and large dimensions. It has also been observed in the previous section, that one of the musical instruments used by the Africans of the Windward Coast, named by them _kilara_, is formed from the calabash, a pumpkin which grows from the size of a goblet to that of a moderate sized tub, and serves every purpose almost of household utensils. They divide this pumpkin into two hemispheres, with the utmost accuracy, and it is excavated by pouring boiling water inside, to soften the pulp. The inside is cleaned with great neatness, and they execute upon the outside various designs and paintings, both fanciful and eccentric, such as birds, beasts, serpents, alligators, &c. In fine, the objects of commerce and enjoyment in this country are, comparatively speaking, inexhaustible; and this is a part of the world which England has hitherto strangely neglected, because its mysteries are unknown. It only requires the happy influence of civilization, agriculture, and natural commerce, to surprize and enrich those, who humanely and wisely interfere to procure these blessings to its inhabitants. The system of establishment to attain these important ends to our commerce, and to the bewildered African, should be skilfully planned, and wisely adapted to the _present condition_ of the country, for the _hasty conclusion of the abolition of the slave trade never can, in its present state, meet the views and objects of rational humanity_. Is the United Kingdom, at this crisis, when the enormous power of our adversary has shut the door of commerce against us in every direction where his influence and dictates command, to abandon Africa, so abundant and versatile in its natural productions and resources, to contingencies, and to the grasp of other nations? Forbid it, humanity, and forbid it, wise policy! Let civil laws, religion, and morality, exercise their influence in behalf of the Negro race, whom barbarism has subjected to our dominion, and let the beneficence and wisdom of Government devise a system of agriculture and commercial operation, upon the maritime situations of Africa, as the most effectual means to freedom of intercourse with its interior. The operations of impracticable theories and misguided zeal have accomplished an unqualified abolition of the slave trade, which I am persuaded will be highly injurious to the commercial and manufacturing interests of our country; and is a measure which humanity will have deeply to deplore, while in its tendency it is pernicious to the African, and auspicious to the views of France. Without doubt the ability and energies of the _present administration_ will be directed to avert these calamities; and amidst the _important diliberations_ which now occupy their attention, the condition of Africa, the wealth derivable from so important a quarter of the earth, and the relations involved with it, will not be overlooked by them. A VOCABULARY OF THE LANGUAGE OF THE PRINCIPAL NATIONS OF THE WINDWARD COAST OF AFRICA. |ENGLISH |JOLLIFF |SOOSEE |TIMMANEE |------------|-------------------|--------------------|---------------- |One |Ben |Kiring |Pen |Two |Yar |Faring |Prung |Three |Niet |Shooking |Tisas |Four |Nianett |Nari |Pánlee |Five |Gurum |Shooli |Tomát |Six |Gurum ben |Shinie |Rókin |Seven |Gurum yar |Shulifiring |Dayring |Eight |Gurum Niet |Shulimashukúng |Daysas |Nine |Gurum Niant |Shulimang |Daynga |Ten |Fue |Fooang |Tofot |Twenty |Nill |Mahwinia |Tofot Marung |Thirty |Fanever |Tongashukúng |Tofot Masas |Forty |Nianett Fue |Tonganani |Tofot Manlu |Fifty |Guaum Fue |Tongashulang |Tofot Tomat |Sixty |Gurum ben Fue |Tongashini |Tofot Rokin |Seventy |Gurum yar Fue |Tongashulifiring |Tofot Dayring |Eighty |Gurum Niet Fue |Tongashulimashakung |Tofot Daysas |Ninety |Gurum Nianet Fue |Tongashulimanáne |Tofot Danygah |One Hundred |Temer |Kimé |Tofot Tofot |I | |Emtang |Eto or Munga |Thou | |Etang |Moota or Moonga |He | |Atang |Otto or Ken |It | |Atang |Ree |We | |Mackutang |Sitta or Shang |Ye | |Wotang |Angsha |They | |Etang |Angna |God |Tallah | | |The Devil |Ghiné | | |Heaven |Assaman | | |ENGLISH |JOLLIFF |SOOSEE |MANDINGO |------------|--------------------|---------------|------------------ |The Sun |Burham Safara |Shuge |Teelee |The Moon |Burham Safara Lion |Kige |Koro |Gold |Ourous | |Sanoo |Father |Bail |Taffe |Fa |My Father |Samma Bail | | |Mother |De |Inga |Ba |My Mother |Samma De | | |Man |Gour | |Mo or Fato |Woman |Diguén | |Mooséa |Brother |Rak Gour |Tarakunjia |Ba Ding Kea |My Brother |Samma Rak Gour | | |Sister |Rak Diguén |Magine |Ba Ding Mooséa |My Sister |Samma Rak Diguén | | |Head |Bop |Hung Hungji |Roon |My Head |Samma Bop | | |Tongue |Lamin |Ning Ningje |Ning |Mouth |Guémin |Dé |Da |Nose |Bauane |Nieue |Nung |Bread |Bourou | |Munko |Water |Dock | |Gee |Teeth |Guené | | |Bowels |Bouthet | | |Belly |Birr | |Kono |Fingers |Baram | |Boalla Ronding |Arm |Lokoó | |Boalla Same for hand. |Hair |Cayor | | |The Beard |Jekim |Habe de Habe |Bora |White |Toulha é |Fihe |Qui |Black |Jolof |Foro |Fing |Good |Bachna |Fang |Bettie |Bad |Bahout |Niaake |Jox |ENGLISH |SOOSEE |-------------------------------------|------------------------ |Elephant |Siti |Camelion |Kolungji |Horse |Shuoe |Cow |Ninkgegine |Goat |Shee |Sheep |Juké |Leopard |Shuko she |Alligator |Shonge |Parrot |Kalle |Shark |Sark |Honey |Kume |White ant, termite, &c. |Bugabuge |(or Bug a bug) | |The Sea |Baa |Earth |Bohe |Knife |Finé |Shirt |Doma |Trowsers |Wangtanji |Brass pan |Tang kue |House |Bankhi |Door |Dé nadé |Day |Hi |Night |Qué |Health |Maié langfe |Sickness |Fura |Pain |Whondi, Whona fe |Love |Whuli |Hatred |Niaahú |Road |Kirá |Idle |Kobi |Hot |Furi, furihe |Cold |Himbeli |What are you doing? |Emung she ra falama? |Tornado |Tuliakbegle |Which way are you going? |Esigama mung kirara |To trade |Sera Shofe |Make haste |Arâ bafe mafurì |To Kill |Fuka fe |To Quarrel |Gerì shofe |To Sing |Shige sháfe |To beat the drum |Fare mokafé |Have you done? |Ebanta gei? |Are you afraid? |Egahama? |He is not yet gone |A mú siga sending |Stand still |Tife ira hara |Run |Gee fé |Leap, or Jump |Tubang fe |Have you slept well? |Eheo keefang? |Do you understand Soosee? |Esusee whi mema? |I am hungry |Kaame em shukuma |Eat |Dong |Let us go |Woem hasiga |Will you go with me? |Esigáma em fokhera |I have no money |Náfuli muna embe |How much do you want? |E' wama ierekong |Sit down |Dokha |How do you do |E'mung keé? |Very well |Em melang hekeefang |Give me some rice? |Málungdundundifeemma |Here |Be |What is your name? |Ehili mungkee? |I love you |Efanghe emma |If you want rice I will give you some|Ha ewama málunghong eminda fuma éma |Let us go together. |Meekufiring ha siga |ENGLISH |JOLLIFF |----------------------------|----------------------- |Goat |Phas |Sheep |Zedre |Wolf |Bouki |Elephant |Guìé |Ox |Nack |Fish |Guienn |Horse |Ghénapp |Butter |Dión |Milk |Sán |Tiger |Shaglé |Iron |Vina |Millet |Doughoul |Quiver |Smagalla |To dance |Faik |To sing |Ouhai |To-day |Thei |To-morrow |Elleck, or Mek |Yesterday |Demb |A tree |Garallun |To drink |Nán |To eat |Leck ou leckamm |She is remarkably handsome |Sama rafitnalóll |Good day |Dhiarakio |Good day Sir |Dhiarakio-Samba |Good night |Fhanandiam |Come here? |Kahihfie |Yes |Ouaa |No |Dhiett |How do you do? |Dhya mésa? |Very well |Dhya medal |Buy |Ghuyendé |Sell |Ghuyal |Take |Diapol |I will |Benguéna |I thank you |Guérum nalá |A bar of Iron |Baravin |What did you say? |Loung a houche |Can you speak Joliff? |Dígenga Jolliff |How much did that cost? |Niatar ladiar? |Give me |Maniman |I love you from my heart |Sépenata tié somo koll |ENGLISH |TEMMANEE |BULLOM |-----------------------|------------------------|---------------- |How do you do? |Currea |Lemmoó |I return you service, |Bá |Bá |or salute | | |Are you well? |Too pay |Appay wa? |Very well |Tai ó tai |Pay chin lin |What is your name? |Gnay see mooa? |Illil é móa? |Give me a little rice |Song mee pilla pittun |Knamée opillay | | |otayk |Yes |A |A |No |Deh |Be |Is your father at home?|Pa ka moo oyá roshaytee?|Appa moway lore | | |ko killayée |He is |Oéeree |Way lorre |What do you want? |Ko nyaymaee? |Yeng yayma? |Why do you do so? |Ko sum kingyotteeay |Yaywum layngalla |I beg your pardon |A marree moo |Lum marra mó |ENGLISH |TEMMANEK |BULLOM |--------------------|--------------------|----------------------- |I love you |Ee bóter moo |A marra mo |Let me alone |Tuoy mee |Y'nfolmee |Let me go |Teer amee |Y'mmelmee |Sit down |Yeera |Y'nchal |I am hungry |Durabang mee |Nrik mi a me |Shut the door |Kanta kayraree |Ingkunta fong fólootay |Will you go with me?|Yintoo kó pey a mee?|Mo mee ko day ree |Where are you going?|Ray mó kóay. |Lomo koa |Here |Unno |Kakée or ha |Forward |Kihdee |Ebol |Backward |Rarung |Wayling |To-day |Taynung |Eenang |To-morrow |Anéenang |Beng |Sometimes |Olokko ollon |Lokkó poom |And |Ray |Na |Good bye |Mang peearó |Heepeeáró ** The foregoing Vocabulary, and imperfect number of words, may serve to give some idea of a part of the languages on the Windward Coast of Africa. From those accidents to which the traveller is continually exposed, I have unfortunately lost what I am persuaded was a very accurate vocabulary of the Jolliff, Foulah, Maudingo, Soosee, Bullom, and Temmanee tongues, which I had arranged under the correction of a very intelligent trader long resident upon the Windward Coast. Owing to this misfortune I have been obliged to refer to scattered memoranda only, which I know to correspond correctly with the document I allude to. As the Foulah and Mandingo nations are of most consequence in attempts at civilization, I have to regret exceedingly that I have not been able to give the languages of those nations more at large. 
12507	----	Proofreaders. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr. THE HISTORY OF THE RISE, PROGRESS, AND ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE ABOLITION OF THE AFRICAN SLAVE-TRADE BY THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT. BY THOMAS CLARKSON, M.A. 1808. CHAPTER I. _Continuation from June 1788 to July 1789--Author travels to collect further evidence--great difficulties in obtaining it--forms committees on his tour--Privy council resume the examinations--inspect cabinet of African productions--obliged to leave many of the witnesses in behalf of the abolition unexamined--prepare their report--Labours of the committee in the interim--Proceedings of the planters and others--Report laid on the table of the House of Commons--Introduction of the question, and debate there--twelve propositions deduced from the report and reserved for future discussion--day of discussion arrives--opponents refuse to argue from the report--require new evidence--this granted and introduced--further consideration of the subject deferred to the next session--Renewal of Sir William Dolben's bill--Death and character of Ramsay._ Matters had now become serious. The gauntlet had been thrown down and accepted. The combatants had taken their stations, and the contest was to be renewed, which was to be decided soon on the great theatre of the nation. The committee by the very act of their institution had pronounced the Slave-trade to be criminal. They, on the other hand, who were concerned in it, had denied the charge. It became the one to prove, and the other to refute it, or to fall in the ensuing session. The committee, in this perilous situation, were anxious to find out such other persons, as might become proper evidences before the privy council. They had hitherto sent there only nine or ten, and they had then only another, whom they could count upon for this purpose, in their view. The proposal of sending persons to Africa, and the West Indies, who might come back and report what they had witnessed, had been already negatived. The question then was, what they were to do. Upon this they deliberated, and the result was an application to me to undertake a journey to different parts of the kingdom for this purpose. When this determination was made I was at Teston, writing a long letter to the privy council on the ill usage and mortality of the seamen employed in the Slave-trade, which it had been previously agreed should be received as evidence there. I thought it proper, however, before I took my departure, to form a system of questions upon the general subject. These I divided into six tables. The first related to the productions of Africa, and the disposition and manners of the natives. The second, to the methods of reducing them to slavery. The third, to the manner of bringing them to the ships, their value, the medium of exchange, and other circumstances. The fourth, to their transportation. The fifth, to their treatment in the Colonies. The sixth, to the seamen employed in the trade. These tables contained together one hundred and forty-five questions. My idea was that they should be printed on a small sheet of paper, which should be folded up in seven or eight leaves, of the length and breadth of a small almanac, and then be sent in franks to our different correspondents. These, when they had them, might examine persons capable of giving evidence, who might live in their neighbourhoods or fall in their way, and return us their examinations by letter. The committee having approved and printed the tables of questions, I began my tour. I had selected the southern counties from Kent to Cornwall for it. I had done this, because these included the great stations of the ships of war in ordinary; and as these were all under the superintendence of Sir Charles Middleton, as comptroller of the navy, I could get an introduction to those on board them. Secondly, because sea-faring people, when they retire from a marine life, usually settle in some town or village upon the coast. Of this tour I shall not give the reader any very particular account. I shall mention only those things which are most worthy of his notice in it. At Poole in Dorsetshire I laid the foundation of a committee, to act in harmony with that of London for the promotion of the cause. Moses Neave, of the respectable society of the Quakers, was the chairman; Thomas Bell, the secretary, and Ellis. B. Metford and the reverend Mr. Davis and others the committee. This was the third committee, which had been instituted in the country for this purpose. That at Bristol, under Mr. Joseph Harford as chairman, and Mr. Lunell as secretary, had been the first. And that at Manchester, under Mr. Thomas Walker as chairman, and Mr. Samuel Jackson as secretary, had been the second. As Poole was a great place for carrying on the trade to Newfoundland, I determined to examine the assertion of the Earl of Sandwich in the House of Lords, when he said, in the debate on Sir William Dolben's bill, that the Slave-trade was not more fatal to seamen than the Newfoundland and some others. This assertion I knew at the time to be erroneous, as far as my own researches had been concerned: for out of twenty-four vessels, which had sailed out of the port of Bristol in that employ, only two sailors were upon the dead list. In sixty vessels from Poole, I found but four lost. At Dartmouth, where I went afterwards on purpose, I found almost a similar result. On conversing however with Governor Holdsworth, I learnt that the year 1786 had been more fatal than any other in this trade. I learnt that in consequent of extraordinary storms and hurricanes, no less than five sailors had died and twenty-one had been drowned in eighty-three vessels from that port. Upon this statement I determined to look into the muster-rolls of the trade there for two or three years together. I began by accident with the year 1769, and I went on to the end of 1772. About eighty vessels on an average had sailed thence in each of these years. Taking the loss in these years, and compounding it with that in the fatal year, three sailors had been lost, but taking it in these four years by themselves, only two had been lost, in twenty-four vessels so employed. On a comparison with the Slave-trade, the result would be, that two vessels to Africa would destroy more seamen than eighty-three sailing to Newfoundland. There was this difference also to be noted, that the loss in the one trade was generally by the weather or by accident, but in the other by cruel treatment or disease; and that they, who went out in a declining state of health in the one, came home generally recovered, whereas they, who went out robust in the other, came home in a shattered condition. At Plymouth I laid the foundation of another committee. The late William Cookworthy, the late John Prideaux, and James Fox, all of the society of the Quakers, and Mr. George Leach, Samuel Northcote, and John Saunders, had a principal share in forming it. Sir William Ellford was chosen chairman. From Plymouth I journeyed on to Falmouth, and from thence to Exeter, where having meetings with the late Mr. Samuel Milford, the late Mr. George Manning, the reverend James Manning, Thomas Sparkes, and others, a desire became manifest among them of establishing a committee there. This was afterwards effected; and Mr. Milford, who, at a general meeting of the inhabitants of Exeter, on the tenth of June, on this great subject, had been called by those present to the chair, was appointed the chairman of it. With respect to evidence, which was the great object of this tour, I found myself often very unpleasantly situated in collecting it. I heard of many persons capable of giving it to our advantage, to whom I could get no introduction. I had to go after these many miles out of my established route. Not knowing me, they received me coldly, and even suspiciously; while I fell in with others, who, considering themselves, on account of their concerns and connexions, as our opponents, treated me in an uncivil manner. But the difficulties and disappointments in other respects, which I experienced in this tour, even where I had an introduction, and where the parties were not interested in the continuance of the Slave-trade, were greater than people in general would have imagined. One would have thought, considering the great enthusiasm of the nation on this important subject, that they, who could have given satisfactory information upon it, would have rejoiced to do it. But I found it otherwise, and this frequently to my sorrow. There was an aversion in persons to appear before such a tribunal as they conceived the privy council to be. With men of shy or timid character this operated as an insuperable barrier in their way. But it operated more or less upon all. It was surprising to see what little circumstances affected many. When I took out my pen and ink to put down the information, which a person was giving me, he became evidently embarrassed and frightened. He began to excuse himself from staying, by alleging that he had nothing more to communicate, and he took himself away as quickly as he could with decency. The sight of the pen and ink had lost me so many good evidences, that I was obliged wholly to abandon the use of them, and to betake myself to other means. I was obliged for the future to commit my tables of questions to memory, and endeavour by practice to put down, after the examination of a person, such answers as he had given me to each of them. Others went off because it happened that immediately on my interview, I acquainted them with the nature of my errand, and solicited their attendance in London. Conceiving that I had no right to ask them such a favour, or terrified at the abruptness and apparent awfulness of my request, some of them gave me an immediate denial, which they would never afterwards retract. I began to perceive in time that it was only by the most delicate management that I could get forward on these occasions. I resolved therefore for the future, except in particular cases, that, when I should be introduced to persons who had a competent knowledge of this trade, I would talk with them upon it as upon any ordinary subject, and then leave them without saying any thing about their becoming evidences. I would take care, however, to commit all their conversation to writing, when it was over, and I would then try to find out that person among their relations or friends, who could apply to them for this purpose with the least hazard of a refusal. There were others also, who, though they were not so much impressed by the considerations mentioned, yet objected to give their public testimony. Those, whose livelihood, or promotion, or expectations, were dependent upon the government of the country, were generally backward on these occasions. Though they thought they discovered in the parliamentary conduct of Mr. Pitt, a bias in favour of the cause, they knew to a certainty that the Lord Chancellor Thurlow was against it. They conceived, therefore, that the administration was at least divided upon the question, and they were fearful of being called upon lest they should give offence, and thus injure their prospects in life. This objection was very prevalent in that part of the kingdom which I had selected for my tour. The reader can hardly conceive how my mind was agitated and distressed on these different accounts. To have travelled more than two months, to have seen many who could have materially served our cause, and to have lost most of them, was very trying. And though it is true that I applied a remedy, I was not driven to the adoption of it till I had performed more than half my tour. Suffice it to say, that after having travelled upwards of sixteen hundred miles backwards and forwards, and having conversed with forty-seven persons, who were capable of promoting the cause by their evidence, I could only prevail upon nine, by all the interest I could make, to be examined. On my return to London, whither I had been called up by the committee to take upon me the superintendence of the evidence, which the privy council was now ready again to hear, I found my brother: he was then a young officer in the navy; and as I knew he felt as warmly as I did in this great cause, I prevailed upon him to go to Havre de Grace, the great slave-port in France, where he might make his observations for two or three months, and then report what he had seen and heard; so that we might have some one to counteract any false statement of things which might be made relative to the subject in that quarter. At length the examinations were resumed, and with them the contest, in which our own reputation and the fate of our cause were involved. The committee for the abolition had discovered one or two willing evidences during my absence, and Mr. Wilberforce, who was now recovered from his severe indisposition, had found one or two others. These added to my own made a respectable body: but we had sent no more than four or five of these to the council when the King's illness unfortunately stopped our career. For nearly five weeks between the middle of November and January the examinations were interrupted or put off so that at the latter period we began to fear that there would be scarcely time to hear the rest; for not only the privy council report was to be printed, but the contest itself was to be decided by the evidence contained in it, in the existing session. The examinations, however, went on, but they went on only slowly, being still subject to interruption from the same unfortunate cause. Among others I offered my mite of information again. I wished the council to see more of my African productions and manufactures, that they might really know what Africa was capable of affording instead of the Slave-trade, and that they might make a proper estimate of the genius and talents of the natives. The samples which I had collected, had been obtained by great labour, and at no inconsiderable expense: for whenever I had notice that a vessel had arrived immediately from that continent, I never hesitated to go, unless under the most pressing engagements elsewhere, even as far as Bristol, if I could pick up but a single new article. The Lords having consented, I selected several things for their inspection out of my box, of the contents of which the following account may not be unacceptable to the reader. The first division of the box consisted of woods of about four inches square, all polished. Among these were mahogany of five different sorts, tulip-wood, satin-wood, cam-wood, bar-wood, fustic, black and yellow ebony, palm-tree, mangrove, calabash, and date. There were seven woods of which the native names were remembered: three of these, Tumiah, Samain, and Jimlaké, were of a yellow colour; Acajoú was of a beautiful deep crimson; Bork and Quellé were apparently fit for cabinet work; and Benten was the wood of which the natives made their canoes. Of the various other woods the names had been forgotten, nor were they known in England at all. One of them was of a fine purple; and from two others, upon which the privy council had caused experiments to be made, a strong yellow, a deep orange, and a flesh-colour were extracted. The second division included ivory and musk; four species of pepper, the long, the black, the Cayenne, and the Malaguetta: three species of gum; namely, Senegal, Copal, and ruber astringens; cinnamon, rice, tobacco, indigo, white and Nankin cotton, Guinea corn, and millet; three species of beans, of which two were used for food, and the other for dyeing orange; two species of tamarinds, one for food, and the other to give whiteness to the teeth; pulse, seeds, and fruits of various kinds, some of the latter of which Dr. Spaarman had pronounced, from a trial during his residence in Africa, to be peculiarly valuable as drugs. The third division contained an African loom, and an African spindle with spun cotton round it; cloths of cotton of various kinds, made by the natives, some white, but others dyed by them of different colours, and others, in which they had interwoven European silk; cloths and bags made of grass, and fancifully coloured; ornaments made of the same materials; ropes made from a species of aloes, and others, remarkably strong, from grass and straw; fine string made from the fibres of the roots of trees; soap of two kinds, one of which was formed from an earthy substance; pipe-bowls made of clay, and of a brown red; one of these, which came from the village of Dakard, was beautifully ornamented by black devices burnt in, and was besides highly glazed; another, brought from Galàm was made of earth, which was richly impregnated with little particles of gold; trinkets made by the natives from their own gold; knives and daggers made by them from our bar-iron; and various other articles, such as bags, sandals, dagger-cases, quivers, grisgris, all made of leather of their own manufacture, and dyed of various colours, and ingeniously sewed together. The fourth division consisted of the thumb-screw, speculum oris, and chains and shackles of different kinds, collected at Liverpool. To these were added, iron neck-collars, and other instruments of punishment and confinement, used in the West Indies, and collected at other places. The instrument, also, by which Charles Horseler was mentioned to have been killed, in the former volume, was to be seen among these. We were now advanced far into February, when we were alarmed by the intelligence that the Lords of the Council were going to prepare their report. At this time we had sent but few persons to them to examine, in comparison with our opponents, and we had yet eighteen to introduce: for answers had come into my tables of questions from several places, and persons had been pointed out to us by our correspondents, who had increased our list of evidences to this number. I wrote therefore to them, at the desire of the committee for the abolition, and gave them the names of the eighteen, and requested that all of them might be examined. I requested also, that they would order, for their own inspection, certain muster-rolls of vessels from Poole and Dartmouth, that they might be convinced that the objection which the Earl of Sandwich had made in the House of Lords, against the abolition of the Slave-trade, had no solid foundation. In reply to my first request they informed me, that it was impossible, in the advanced state of the session (it being then the middle of March), that the examinations of so many could be taken; but I was at liberty, in conjunction with the Bishop of London, to select eight for this purpose. This occasioned me to address them again; and I then found, to my surprise and sorrow, that even this last number was to be diminished; for I was informed in writing, "that the Bishop of London having laid my last letter before their Lordships, they had agreed to meet on the Saturday next, and on the Tuesday following, for the purpose of receiving the evidence of some of the gentlemen named in it. And it was their Lordships' desire that I would give notice to any three of them (whose information I might consider as the most material) of the above determination, that they might attend the committee accordingly." This answer, considering the difficulties we had found in collecting a body of evidence, and the critical situation in which we then were, was peculiarly distressing; but we had no remedy left us, nor could we reasonably complain. Three therefore were selected, and they were sent to deliver their testimony on their arrival in town. But before the last of these had left the council-room, who should come up to me but Mr. Arnold! He had but lately arrived at Bristol from Africa; and having heard from our friends there that we had been daily looking for him, he had come to us in London. He and Mr. Gardiner were the two surgeons, as mentioned in the former volume, who had promised me, when I was in Bristol, in the year 1787, that they would keep a journal of facts for me during the voyages they were then going to perform. They had both of them kept this promise. Gardiner, I found, had died upon the Coast, and his journal, having been discovered at his death, had been buried with him in great triumph. But Arnold had survived, and he came now to offer us his services in the cause. As it was a pity that such correct information as that taken down in writing upon the spot should be lost (for all the other evidences, except Dr. Spaarman and Mr. Wadstrom, had spoken from their memory only), I made all the interest I could to procure a hearing for Mr. Arnold. Pleading now for the examination of him only, and under these particular circumstances, I was attended to. It was consented, in consequence of the little time which was now left for preparing and printing the Report, that I should make out his evidence from his journal under certain heads. This I did. Mr. Arnold swore to the truth of it, when so drawn up, before Edward Montague, esquire, a master in chancery. He then delivered the paper in which it was contained to the Lords of the Council, who, on receiving it, read it throughout, and then questioned him upon it. At this time, also, my brother returned with accounts and papers relative to the Slave-trade, from Havre de Grace; but as I had pledged myself to offer no other person to be examined, his evidence was lost. Thus, after all the pains we had taken, and in a contest, too, on the success of which our own reputation and the fate of Africa depended, we were obliged to fight the battle with sixteen less than we could have brought into the field; while our opponents, on the other hand, on account of their superior advantages, had mustered all their forces, not having omitted a single man. I do not know of any period of my life in which I suffered so much both in body and mind, as from the time of resuming these public inquiries by the privy council, to the time when they were closed. For I had my weekly duty to attend at the committee for the abolition during this interval. I had to take down the examinations of all the evidences who came to London, and to make certain copies of these. I had to summon these to town, and to make provision against all accidents; and here I was often troubled by means of circumstances, which unexpectedly occurred, lest, when committees of the council had been purposely appointed to hear them, they should not be forthcoming at the time. I had also a new and extensive correspondence to keep up; for the tables of questions which had been sent down to our correspondents, brought letters almost innumerable on this subject, and they were always addressed to me. These not only required answers of themselves, but as they usually related to persons capable of giving their testimony, and contained the particulars of what they could state, they occasioned fresh letters to be written to others. Hence the writing of ten or twelve daily became necessary. But the contents of these letters afforded the circumstances, which gave birth to so much suffering. They contained usually some affecting tale of woe. At Bristol my feelings had been harassed by the cruel treatment of the seamen, which had come to my knowledge there: but now I was doomed to see this treatment over again in many other melancholy instances; and additionally to take in the various sufferings of the unhappy slaves. These accounts I could seldom get time to read till late in the evening, and sometimes not till midnight, when the letters containing them were to be answered. The effect of these accounts was in some instances to overwhelm me for a time in tears, and in others to produce a vivid indignation, which affected my whole frame. Recovering from these, I walked up and down the room. I felt fresh vigour, and made new determinations of perpetual warfare against this impious trade. I implored strength that I might proceed. I then sat down, and continued my work as long as my wearied eyes would permit me to see. Having been agitated in this manner, I went to bed: but my rest was frequently broken by the visions which floated before me. When I awoke, these renewed themselves to me, and they flitted about with me for the remainder of the day. Thus I was kept continually harassed: my mind was confined to one gloomy and heart-breaking subject for months. It had no respite, and my health began now materially to suffer. But the contents of these letters were particularly grievous, on account of the severe labours which they necessarily entailed upon me in other ways than those which have been mentioned. It was my duty, while the privy council examinations went on, not only to attend to all the evidence which was presented to us by our correspondents, but to find out and select the best. The happiness of millions depended upon it. Hence I was often obliged to travel during these examinations, in order to converse with those who had been pointed out to us as capable of giving their testimony; and, that no time might be lost, to do this in the night. More than two hundred miles in a week were sometimes passed over on these occasions. The disappointments too, which I frequently experienced in these journeys, increased the poignancy of the suffering, which arose from a contemplation of the melancholy cases which I had thus travelled to bring forward to the public view. The reader at present can have no idea of these. I have been sixty miles to visit a person, of whom I had heard, not only as possessing important knowledge, but as espousing our opinions on this subject. I have at length seen him. He has applauded my pursuit at our first interview. He has told me, in the course of our conversation, that neither my own pen, nor that of any other man, could describe adequately the horrors of the Slave-trade, horrors which he himself had witnessed. He has exhorted me to perseverance in this noble cause. Could I have wished for a more favourable reception?--But mark the issue. He was the nearest relation of a rich person concerned in the traffic; and if he were to come forward with his evidence publicly, he should ruin all his expectations from that quarter. In the same week I have visited another at a still greater distance. I have met with similar applause. I have heard him describe scenes of misery which he had witnessed, and on the relation of which he himself almost wept. But mark the issue again.--"I am a surgeon," says he: "through that window you see a spacious house. It is occupied by a West Indian. The medical attendance upon his family is of considerable importance to the temporal interests of mine. If I give you my evidence I lose his patronage. At the house above him lives an East Indian. The two families are connected: I fear, if I lose the support of one, I shall lose that of the other also: but I will give you privately all the intelligence in my power." The reader may now conceive the many miserable hours I must have spent, after such visits, in returning home; and how grievously my heart must have been afflicted by these cruel disappointments, but more particularly where they arose from causes inferior to those which have been now mentioned, or from little frivolous excuses, or idle and unfounded conjectures, unworthy of beings expected to fill a moral station in life. Yes, O man! often in these solitary journeyings have I exclaimed against the baseness of thy nature, when reflecting on the little paltry considerations which have smothered thy benevolence, and hindered thee from succouring an oppressed brother. And yet, on a further view of things, I have reasoned myself into a kinder feeling towards thee. For I have been obliged to consider ultimately, that there were both lights and shades in the human character; and that, if the bad part of our nature was visible on these occasions, the nobler part of it ought not to be forgotten. While I passed a censure upon those, who were backward in serving this great cause of humanity and justice, how many did I know, who were toiling in the support of it! I drew also this consolation from my reflections, that I had done my duty; that I had left nothing untried or undone; that amidst all these disappointments I had collected information, which might be useful at a future time; and that such disappointments were almost inseparable from the prosecution of a cause of such magnitude, and where the interests of so many were concerned. Having now given a general account of my own proceedings, I shall state those of the committee; or show how they contributed, by fulfilling the duties of their several departments, to promote the cause in the interim. In the first place they completed the rules, or code of laws, for their own government. They continued to adopt and circulate books, that they might still enlighten the public mind on the subject, and preserve it interested in favour of their institution. They kept the press indeed almost constantly going for this purpose. They printed, within the period mentioned, Ramsay's Address on the proposed Bill for the Abolition; The Speech of Henry Beaufoy, esquire, on Sir William Dolben's Bill, of which an extract was given in the first volume; Notes by a Planter on the two Reports from the Committee of the honourable House of Assembly of Jamaica; Observations on the Slave-trade by Mr. Wadstrom; and Dickson's Letters on Slavery. These were all new publications. To those they added others of less note, with new editions of the old. They voted their thanks to the reverend Mr. Gifford, for his excellent sermon on the Slave-trade; to the pastor and congregation of the Baptist church at Maze Pond, Southwark, for their liberal subscription; and to John Barton, one of their own members, for the services he had rendered them. The latter, having left his residence in town for one in the country, solicited permission to resign, and hence this mark of approbation was given to him. He was continued also as an honorary and corresponding member. They elected David Hartley and Richard Sharpe, esquires, into their own body, and Alexander Jaffray, esquire, the reverend Charles Symmons of Haverfordwest, and the reverend T. Burgess (now bishop of St. David's), as honorary and corresponding members. The latter had written Considerations on the Abolition of Slavery and the Slave-trade upon Grounds of natural, religious, and political Duty, which had been of great service to the cause. Of the new correspondents of the committee within this period I may first mention Henry Taylor, of North Shields; William Proud, of Hull; the reverend T. Gisborne, of Yoxall Lodge; and William Ellford, esquire, of Plymouth. The latter, as chairman of the Plymouth committee, sent up for inspection an engraving of a plan and section of a slave-ship, in which the bodies of the slaves were seen stowed in the proportion of rather less than one to a ton. This happy invention gave all those, who saw it, a much better idea than they could otherwise have had of the horrors of their transportation, and contributed greatly, as will appear afterwards, to impress the public in favour of our cause. The next, whom I shall mention, was C.L. Evans, esquire, of West Bromwich; the reverend T. Clarke, of Hull; S.P. Wolferstan, esquire, of Stafford near Tamworth; Edmund Lodge, esquire, of Halifax; the reverend Caleb Rotheram, of Kendal; and Mr. Campbell Haliburton, of Edinburgh. The news which Mr. Haliburton sent was very agreeable. He informed us that, in consequence of the great exertions of Mr. Alison, an institution had been formed in Edinburgh, similar to that in London, which would take all Scotland under its care and management, as far as related to this great subject. He mentioned Lord Gardenston as the chairman; Sir William Forbes as the deputy chairman; himself as the secretary; and Lord Napier, professor Andrew Hunter, professor Greenfield, and William Creech, Adam Rolland, Alexander Ferguson, John Dickson, John Erskine, John Campbell, Archibald Gibson, Archibald Fletcher, and Horatius Canning, esquires, as the committee. The others were, the reverend J. Bidlake, of Plymouth; Joseph Storrs, of Chesterfield; William Fothergill, of Carr End, Yorkshire; J. Seymour, of Coventry; Moses Neave, of Poole; Joseph Taylor, of Scarborough; Timothy Clark, of Doncaster; Thomas Davis, of Milverton; George Croker Fox, of Falmouth; Benjamin Grubb, of Clonmell in Ireland; Sir William Forbes, of Edinburgh; the reverend J. Jamieson, of Forfar; and Joseph Gurney, of Norwich; the latter of whom sent up a remittance, and intelligence at the same time, that a committee, under Mr. Leigh, so often before mentioned, had been formed in that city[A]. [Footnote A: On the removal of Mr. Leigh from Norwich, Dr. Pretyman, precentor of Lincoln and a prebend of Norwich, succeeded him.] But the committee in London, while they were endeavouring to promote the object of their institution at home, continued their exertions for the same purpose abroad within this period. They kept up a communication with the different societies established in America. They directed their attention also to the continent of Europe. They had already applied, as I mentioned before, to the King of Sweden in favour of their cause, and had received a gracious answer. They now attempted to interest other potentates in it. For this purpose they bound up in an elegant manner two sets of the Essays on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species and on the Impolicy of the Slave-trade, and sent them to the Chevalier de Pinto, in Portugal. They bound up in a similar manner three sets of the same, and sent them to Mr. Eden (now Lord Auckland), at Madrid, to be given to the King of Spain, the Count d'Aranda, and the Marquis del Campomanes. They kept up their correspondence with the committee at Paris, which had greatly advanced itself in the eyes of the French nation; so that, when the different bailliages sent deputies to the States General, they instructed them to take the Slave-trade into their consideration as a national object, and with a view to its abolition. They kept up their correspondence with Dr. Frossard of Lyons. He had already published in France on the subject of the Slave-trade; and now he offered the committee to undertake the task, so long projected by them, of collecting such arguments and facts concerning it, and translating them into different languages, as might be useful in forwarding their views in foreign parts. They addressed letters also to various individuals, to Monsieur Snetlage, doctor of laws at Halle in Saxony; to Monsieur Ladebat, of Bourdeaux; to the Marquis de Feuillade d'Aubusson, at Paris; and to Monsieur Necker. The latter in his answer replied in part as follows: "As this great question," says he, "is not in my department, but in that of the minister for the Colonies, I cannot interfere in it directly, but I will give indirectly all the assistance in my power. I have for a long time taken an interest in the general alarm on this occasion, and in the noble alliance of the friends of humanity in favour of the injured Africans. Such an attempt throws a new lustre over your nation. It is not yet, however, a national object in France. But the moment may perhaps come; and I shall think myself happy in preparing the way for it. You must be aware, however, of the difficulties which we shall have to encounter on our side of the water; for our colonies are much more considerable than yours; so that in the view of political interest we are not on an equal footing. It will therefore be necessary to find some middle line at first, as it cannot be expected that humanity alone will be the governing principle of mankind." But the day was now drawing near, when it was expected that this great contest would be decided. Mr. Wilberforce on the nineteenth of March rose up in the House of Commons, and desired the resolution to be read, by which the house stood pledged to take the Slave-trade into their consideration in the then session. He then moved that the house should resolve itself into a committee of the whole house on Thursday, the twenty-third of April, for this purpose. This motion was agreed to; after which he moved for certain official documents, necessary to throw light upon the subject in the course of its discussion. This motion, by means of which the great day of trial was now fixed, seemed to be the signal for the planters, merchants, and other interested persons to begin a furious opposition. Meetings were accordingly called by advertisement. At these meetings much warmth and virulence were manifested in debate, and propositions breathing a spirit of anger were adopted. It was suggested there, in the vehemence of passion, that the Islands could exist independently of the Mother-country; nor were even threats withheld to intimidate government from effecting the abolition. From this time, also, the public papers began to be filled with such statements as were thought most likely to influence the members of the House of Commons, previously to the discussion of the question. The first impression attempted to be made upon them was with respect to the slaves themselves. It was contended, and attempted to be shown by the revival of the old argument of human sacrifices in Africa, that these were better off in the islands than in their own country. It was contended also, that they were people of very inferior capacities, and but little removed from the brute creation; whence an inference was drawn, that their treatment, against which so much clamour had arisen, was adapted to their intellect and feelings. The next attempt was to degrade the abolitionists in the opinion of the house, by showing the wildness and absurdity of their schemes. It was again insisted upon that emancipation was the real object of the former; so that thousands of slaves would be let loose in the islands to rob or perish, and who could never be brought back again into habits of useful industry. An attempt was then made to excite their pity in behalf of the planters. The abolition, it was said, would produce insurrections among the slaves. But insurrections would produce the massacre of their masters; and, if any of these should happily escape from butchery, they would be reserved only for ruin. An appeal was then made to them on the ground of their own interest and of that of the people, whom they represented. It was stated that the ruin of the islands would be the ruin of themselves and of the country. Its revenue would be half annihilated. Its naval strength would decay. Merchants, manufacturers and others would come to beggary. But in this deplorable situation they would expect to be indemnified for their losses. Compensation indeed must follow. It could not be withheld. But what would be the amount of it? The country would have no less than from eighty to a hundred millions to pay the sufferers; and it would be driven to such distress in paying this sum us it had never before experienced. The last attempt was to show them that a regulation of the trade was all that was now wanted. While this would remedy the evils complained of, it would prevent the mischief which would assuredly follow the abolition. The planters had already done their part. The assemblies of the different islands had most of them made wholesome laws upon the subject. The very bills passed for this purpose in Jamaica and Grenada had arrived in England, and might be seen by the public: the great grievances had been redressed: no slave could now be mutilated or wantonly killed by his owner; one man could not now maltreat, or bruise, or wound the slave of another; the aged could not now be turned off to perish by hunger. There were laws also relative to the better feeding and clothing of the slaves. It remained only that the trade to Africa should be put under as wise and humane regulations as the slavery in the islands had undergone. These different statements, appearing now in the public papers from day to day, began, in this early stage of the question, when the subject in all its bearings was known but to few, to make a considerable impression upon those, who were soon to be called to the decision of it. But that, which had the greatest effect upon them, was the enormous amount of the compensation, which, it was said, must be made. This statement against the abolition was making its way so powerfully, that Archdeacon Paley thought it his duty to write, and to send to the committee, a little treatise called Arguments against the unjust Pretensions of Slave-dealers and Holders, to be indemnified by pecuniary Allowances at the public Expense in case the Slave-trade should be abolished. This treatise, when the substance of it was detailed in the public papers, had its influence upon several members of the House of Commons. But there were others, who had been as it were panic-struck by the statement. These in their fright seemed to have lost the right use of their eyes, or to have looked through a magnifying glass. With these the argument of emancipation, which they would have rejected at another time as ridiculous, obtained now easy credit. The massacres too and the ruin, though only conjectural, they admitted also. Hence some of them deserted our cause wholly, while others, wishing to do justice as far as they could to the slaves on the one hand, and to their own countrymen on the other, adopted a middle line of conduct, and would go no further than the regulation of the trade. While these preparations were making by our opponents to prejudice the minds of those, who were to be the judges in this contest, Mr. Pitt presented the privy council report at the bar of the House of Commons; and as it was a large folio volume, and contained the evidence upon which the question was to be decided, it was necessary that time should be given to the members to peruse it. Accordingly the twelfth of May was appointed, instead of the twenty-third of April, for the discussion of the question. This postponement of the discussion of the question gave time to all parties to prepare themselves further. The merchants and planters availed themselves of it to collect petitions to parliament from interested persons against the abolition of the trade, to wait upon members of parliament by deputation, in order to solicit their attendance in their favour, and to renew their injurious paragraphs in the public papers. The committee for the abolition availed themselves of it to reply to these; and here Dr. Dickson, who had been secretary to Governor Hey, in Barbadoes, and who had offered the committee his Letters on Slavery before mentioned and his services also, was of singular use. Many members of parliament availed themselves of it to retire into the country to read the report. Among the latter were Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Pitt. In this retirement they discovered, notwithstanding the great disadvantages under which we had laboured with respect to evidence, that our cause was safe, and that, as far as it was to be decided by reason and sound policy, it would triumph. It was in this retirement that Mr. Pitt made those able calculations, which satisfied him for ever after, as the minister of the country, as to the safety of the great measure of the abolition of the Slave-trade; for he had clearly proved, that not only the islands could go on in a flourishing state without supplies from the coast of Africa, but that they were then in a condition to do it. At length, the twelfth of May arrived. Mr. Wilberforce rose up in the Commons, and moved the order of the day for the house to resolve itself into a committee of the whole house, to take into consideration the petitions, which had been presented against the Slave-trade. This order having been read, he moved that the report of the committee of privy council; that the acts passed in the islands relative to slaves; that the evidence adduced last year on the Slave-trade; that the petitions offered in the last session against the Slave-trade; and that the accounts presented to the house, in the last and present session, relative to the exports and imports to Africa, be referred to the same committee. These motions having been severally agreed to, the house immediately resolved itself into a committee of the whole house, and Sir William Dolben was put into the chair. Mr. Wilberforce began by declaring, that, when he considered how much discussion the subject, which he was about to explain to the committee, had occasioned not only in that house but throughout the kingdom, and throughout Europe; and when he considered the extent and importance of it, the variety of interests involved in it, and the consequences which might arise, he owned he had been filled with apprehensions, lest a subject of such magnitude, and a cause of such weight, should suffer from the weakness of its advocate; but when he recollected that in the progress of his inquiries he had every where been received with candour, that most people gave him credit for the purity of his motives, and that, however many of these might then differ from him, they were all likely to agree in the end, he had dismissed his fears and marched forward with a firmer step in this cause of humanity, justice and religion. He could not, however, but lament that the subject had excited so much warmth. He feared that too many on this account were but ill prepared to consider it with impartiality. He entreated all such to endeavour to be calm and composed. A fair and cool discussion was essentially necessary. The motion he meant to offer was as reconcileable to political expediency as to national humanity. It belonged to no party-question. It would in the end be found serviceable to all parties; and to the best interests of the country. He did not come forward to accuse the West India planter, or the Liverpool merchant, or indeed any one concerned in this traffic; but, if blame attached any where, to take shame to himself, in common indeed with the whole parliament of Great Britain, who, having suffered it to be carried on under their own authority, were all of them participators in the guilt. In endeavouring to explain the great business of the day, he said he should call the attention of the house only to the leading features of the Slave-trade. Nor should he dwell long upon these. Every one might imagine for himself, what must be the natural consequence of such a commerce with Africa. Was it not plain that she must suffer from it? that her savage manners must be rendered still more ferocious? and that a trade of this nature, carried on round her coasts, must extend violence and desolation to her very centre? It was well known that the natives of Africa were sold as goods, and that numbers of them were continually conveyed away from their country by the owners of British vessels. The question then was, which way the latter came by them. In answer to this question the privy council report, which was then on the table, afforded evidence the most satisfactory and conclusive. He had found things in it, which had confirmed every proposition he had maintained before, whether this proposition had been gathered from living information of the best authority, or from the histories he had read. But it was unnecessary either to quote the report, or to appeal to history on this occasion. Plain reason and common sense would point out how the poor Africans were obtained. Africa was a country divided into many kingdoms, which had different governments and laws. In many parts the princes were despotic. In others they had a limited rule. But in all of them, whatever the nature of the government was, men were considered as goods and property, and, as such, subject to plunder in the same manner as property in other countries. The persons in power there were naturally fond of our commodities; and to obtain them (which could only be done by the sale of their countrymen) they waged war on one another, or even ravaged their own country, when they could find no pretence for quarrelling with their neighbours; in their courts of law many poor wretches, who were innocent, were condemned; and, to obtain these commodities in greater abundance, thousands were kidnapped and torn from their families and sent into slavery. Such transactions, he said, were recorded in every history of Africa, and the report on the table confirmed them. With respect, however, to these he should make but one or two observations. If we looked into the reign of Henry the Eighth, we should find a parallel for one of them. We should find that similar convictions took place; and that penalties followed conviction. With respect to wars, the kings of Africa were never induced to engage in them by public principles, by national glory, and least of all by the love of their people. This had been stated by those most conversant in the subject, by Dr. Spaarman and Mr. Wadstrom. They had conversed with these princes, and had learned from their own mouths, that to procure slaves was the object of their hostilities. Indeed, there was scarcely a single person examined before the privy council, who did not prove that the Slave-trade was the source of the tragedies acted upon that extensive continent. Some had endeavoured to palliate this circumstance; but there was not one who did not more or less admit it to be true. By one the Slave-trade was called the concurrent cause, by the majority it was acknowledged to be the principal motive of the African wars. The same might be said with respect to those instances of treachery and injustice, in which individuals were concerned. And here he was sorry to observe that our own countrymen were often guilty. He would only at present advert to the tragedy at Calabàr, where two large African villages, having been for some time at war, made peace. This peace was to have been ratified by intermarriages; but some of our captains, who were there, seeing their trade would be stopped for a while, sowed dissension again between them. They actually set one village against the other, took a share in the contest, massacred many of the inhabitants, and carried others of them away as slaves. But shocking as this transaction might appear, there was not a single history of Africa to be read, in which scenes of as atrocious a nature were not related. They, he said, who defended this trade, were warped and blinded by their own interests, and would not be convinced of the miseries they were daily heaping on their fellow-creatures. By the countenance they gave it, they had reduced the inhabitants of Africa to a worse state than that of the most barbarous nation. They had destroyed what ought to have been the bond of union and safety among them: they had introduced discord and anarchy among them: they had set kings against their subjects, and subjects against each other: they had rendered every private family wretched: they had, in short, given birth to scenes of injustice and misery not to be found in any other quarter of the globe. Having said thus much on the subject of procuring slaves in Africa, he would now go to that of the transportation of them. And here he had fondly hoped, that when men with affections and feelings like our own had been torn from their country, and every thing dear to them, he should have found some mitigation of their sufferings; but the sad reverse was the case. This was the most wretched part of the whole subject. He was incapable of impressing the house with what he felt upon it. A description of their conveyance was impossible. So much misery condensed in so little room was more than the human imagination had ever before conceived. Think only of six hundred persons linked together, trying to get rid of each other, crammed in a close vessel with every object that was nauseous and disgusting, diseased, and struggling with all the varieties of wretchedness. It seemed impossible to add any thing more to human misery. Yet shocking as this description must be felt to be by every man, the transportation had been described by several witnesses from Liverpool to be a comfortable conveyance. Mr. Norris had painted the accommodations on board a slave-ship in the most glowing colours. He had represented them in a manner which would have exceeded his attempts at praise of the most luxurious scenes. Their apartments, he said, were fitted up as advantageously for them as circumstances could possibly admit: they had several meals a day; some, of their own country provisions, with the best sauces of African cookery; and, by way of variety, another meal of pulse, according to the European taste. After breakfast they had water to wash themselves, while their apartments were perfumed with frankincense and lime-juice. Before dinner they were amused after the manner of their country; instruments of music were introduced: the song and the dance were promoted: games of chance were furnished them: the men played and sang, while the women and girls made fanciful ornaments from beads, with which they were plentifully supplied. They were indulged in all their little fancies, and kept in sprightly humour. Another of them had said, when the sailors were flogged, it was out of the hearing of the Africans, lest it should depress their spirits. He by no means wished to say that such descriptions were wilful misrepresentations. If they were not, it proved that interest of prejudice was capable of spreading a film over the eyes thick enough to occasion total blindness. Others, however, and these men of the greatest veracity, had given a different account. What would the house think, when by the concurring testimony of these the true history was laid open? The slaves who had been described as rejoicing in their captivity, were so wrung with misery at leaving their country, that it was the constant practice to set sail in the night, lest they should know the moment of their departure. With respect to their accommodation, the right ancle of one was fastened to the left ancle of another by an iron fetter; and if they were turbulent, by another on the wrists. Instead of the apartments described, they were placed in niches, and along the decks, in such a manner, that it was impossible for any one to pass among them, however careful he might be, without treading upon them. Sir George Yonge had testified, that in a slave-ship, on board of which he went, and which had not completed her cargo by two hundred and fifty, instead of the scent of frankincense being perceptible to the nostrils, the stench was intolerable. The allowance of water was so deficient, that the slaves were frequently found gasping for life, and almost suffocated. The pulse with which they had been said to be favoured, were absolutely English horse-beans. The legislature of Jamaica had stated the scantiness both of water and provisions, as a subject which called for the interference of parliament. As Mr. Norris had said, the song and the dance were promoted, he could not pass over these expressions without telling the house what they meant. It would have been much more fair if he himself had explained the word _promoted_. The truth was, that, for the sake of exercise, these miserable wretches, loaded with chains and oppressed with disease, were forced to dance by the terror of the lash, and sometimes by the actual use of it. "I," said one of the evidences, "was employed to dance the men, while another person danced the women." Such then was the meaning of the word _promoted_; and it might also be observed with respect to food, that instruments were sometimes carried out, in order to force them to eat; which was the same sort of proof, how much they enjoyed themselves in this instance also. With respect to their singing, it consisted of songs of lamentation for the loss of their country. While they sung they were in tears: so that one of the captains, more humane probably than the rest, threatened a woman with a flogging because the mournfulness of her song was too painful for his feelings. Perhaps he could not give a better proof of the sufferings of these injured people during their passage, than by stating the mortality which accompanied it. This was a species of evidence which was infallible on this occasion. Death was a witness which could not deceive them; and the proportion of deaths would not only confirm, but, if possible, even aggravate our suspicion of the misery of the transit. It would be found, upon an average of all the ships, upon which evidence had been given, that, exclusively of such as perished before they sailed from Africa, not less than twelve and a half per cent died on their passage: besides these, the Jamaica report stated that four and a half per cent died while in the harbours, or on shore before the day of sale, which was only about the space of twelve or fourteen days after their arrival there; and one third more died in the seasoning: and this in a climate exactly similar to their own, and where, as some of the witnesses pretended, they were healthy and happy. Thus, out of every lot of one hundred, shipped from Africa, seventeen died in about nine weeks, and not more than fifty lived to become effective labourers in our islands. Having advanced thus far in his investigation, he felt, he said, the wickedness of the Slave-trade to be so enormous, so dreadful, and irremediable, that he could stop at no alternative short of its abolition. A trade founded on iniquity, and carried on with such circumstances of horror, must be abolished, let the policy of it be what it might; and he had from this time determined, whatever were the consequences, that he would never rest till he had effected that abolition. His mind had indeed been harassed by the objections of the West India planters, who had asserted, that the ruin of their property must be the consequence of such a measure. He could not help, however, distrusting their arguments. He could not believe that the Almighty Being, who had forbidden the practice of rapine and bloodshed, had made rapine and bloodshed necessary to any part of his universe. He felt a confidence in this persuasion, and took the resolution to act upon it. Light indeed soon broke in upon him. The suspicion of his mind was every day confirmed by increasing information, and the evidence he had now to offer upon this point was decisive and complete. The principle upon which he founded the necessity of the abolition was not policy, but justice: but, though justice were the principle of the measure, yet he trusted he should distinctly prove it to be reconcileable with our truest political interest. In the first place, he asserted that the number of the slaves in our West India islands might be kept up without the introduction of recruits from Africa; and to prove this, he would enumerate the different sources of their mortality. The first was the disproportion of the sexes, there being, upon an average, about five males imported to three females: but this evil, when the Slave-trade was abolished, would cure itself. The second consisted in the bad condition in which they were brought to the islands, and the methods of preparing them for sale. They arrived frequently in a sickly and disordered state, and then they were made up for the market by the application of astringents, washes, mercurial ointments, and repelling drugs, so that their wounds and diseases might be hid. These artifices were not only fraudulent but fatal: but these, it was obvious, would of themselves fall with the trade. A third was, excessive labour joined with improper food; and a fourth was, the extreme dissoluteness of their manners. These also would both of them be counteracted by the impossibility of getting further supplies: for owners, now unable to replace those slaves whom they might lose, by speedy purchases in the markets, would be more careful how they treated them in future, and a better treatment would be productive of better morals. And here he would just advert to an argument used against those who complained of cruelty in our islands, which was, that it was the interest of masters to treat their slaves with humanity: but surely it was immediate and present, not future and distant, interest, which was the great spring of action in the affairs of mankind. Why did we make laws to punish men? It was their interest to be upright and virtuous: but there was a present impulse continually breaking in upon their better judgment, and an impulse, which was known to be contrary to their permanent advantage. It was ridiculous to say that men would be bound by their interest, when gain or ardent passion urged them. It might as well be asserted that a stone could not be thrown into the air, or a body move from place to place, because the principle of gravitation bound them to the surface of the earth. If a planter in the West Indies found himself reduced in his profits, he did not usually dispose of any part of his slaves; and his own gratifications were never given up, so long as there was a possibility of making any retrenchment in the allowance of his slaves.--But to return to the subject which he had left: He was happy to state, that as all the causes of the decrease which he had stated might be remedied, so, by the progress of light and reformation, these remedies had been gradually coming into practice; and that, as these had increased, the decrease of slaves had in an equal proportion been lessened. By the gradual adoption of these remedies, he could prove from the report on the table, that the decrease of slaves in Jamaica had lessened to such a degree, that from the year 1774 to the present it was not quite one in a hundred, and that in fact they were at present in a state of increase; for that the births in that island, at this moment, exceeded the deaths by one thousand or eleven hundred per annum. Barbadoes, Nevis, Antigua, and the Bermudas, were, like Jamaica, lessening their decrease, and holding forth an evident and reasonable expectation of a speedy state of increase by natural population. But allowing the number of negros even to decrease for a time, there were methods which would ensure the welfare of the West India islands. The lands there might be cultivated by fewer hands, and this to greater advantage to the proprietors and to this country, by the produce of cinnamon, coffee, and cotton, than by that of sugar. The produce of the plantations might also be considerably increased, even in the case of sugar, with less hands than were at present employed, if the owners of them would but introduce machines of husbandry. Mr. Long himself, long resident as a planter, had proved, upon his own estate, that the plough, though so little used in the West Indies, did the service of a hundred slaves, and caused the same ground to produce three hogsheads of sugar, which, when cultivated by slaves, would only produce two. The division of work, which, in free and civilized countries, was the grand source of wealth, and the reduction of the number of domestic servants, of whom not less than from twenty to forty were kept in ordinary families, afforded other resources for this purpose. But, granting that all these suppositions should be unfounded, and that every one of these substitutes should fail for a time, the planters would be indemnified, as is the case in all transactions of commerce, by the increased price of their produce in the British market. Thus, by contending against the abolition, they were defeated in every part of the argument. But he would never give up the point, that the number of the slaves could be kept up by natural population, and without any dependence whatever on the Slave-trade. He therefore called upon the house again to abolish it as a criminal waste of life--it was utterly unnecessary--he had proved it so by documents contained in the report. The merchants of Liverpool, indeed, had thought otherwise, but he should be cautious how he assented to their opinions. They declared last year that it was a losing trade at two slaves to a ton, and yet they pursued it when restricted to five slaves to three tons. He believed, however, that it was upon the whole a losing concern; in the same manner as the lottery would be a losing adventure to any company who should buy all the tickets. Here and there an individual gained a large prize, but the majority of adventurers gained nothing. The same merchants, too, had asserted that the town of Liverpool would be ruined by the abolition. But Liverpool did not depend for its consequence upon the Slave-trade. The whole export-tonnage from that place amounted to no less than 170,000 tons; whereas the export part of it to Africa amounted only to 13,000. Liverpool, he was sure, owed its greatness to other and very different causes; the Slave-trade bearing but a small proportion to its other trades. Having gone through that part of the subject which related to the slaves, he would now answer two objections which he had frequently heard started. The first of these was, that the abolition of the Slave-trade would operate to the total ruin of our navy, and to the increase of that of our rivals. For an answer to these assertions, he referred, to what he considered to be the most valuable part of the report, and for which the house and the country were indebted to the indefatigable exertions of Mr. Clarkson. By the report it appeared, that, instead of the Slave-trade being a nursery for British seamen, it was their grave. It appeared that more seamen died in that trade in one year than in the whole remaining trade of the country in two. Out of 910 sailors in it, 216 died in the year, while upon a fair average of the same number of men employed in the trades to the East and West Indies, Petersburgh, Newfoundland, and Greenland, no more than 87 died. It appeared also, that out of 3170, who had left Liverpool in the slave-ships in the year 1787, only 1428 had returned. And here, while he lamented the loss which the country thus annually sustained in her seamen, he had additionally to lament the barbarous usage which they experienced, and which this trade, by its natural tendency to harden the heart, exclusively produced. He would just read an extract of a letter from Governor Parrey, of Barbadoes, to Lord Sydney, one of the secretaries of state. The Governor declared he could no longer contain himself on account of the ill treatment, which the British sailors endured at the hands of their savage captains. These were obliged to have their vessels strongly manned, not only on account of the unhealthiness of the climate of Africa, but of the necessity of guarding the slaves, and preventing and suppressing insurrections; and when they arrived in the West Indies, and were out of all danger from the latter, they quarrelled with their men on the most frivolous pretences, on purpose to discharge them, and thus save the payment of supernumerary wages home. Thus many were left in a diseased and deplorable state; either to perish by sickness, or to enter into foreign service; great numbers of whom were for ever lost to their country. The Governor concluded by declaring, that the enormities attendant on this trade were so great, as to demand the immediate interference of the legislature. The next objection to the abolition was, that if we were to relinquish the Slave-trade, our rivals, the French, would take it up; so that, while we should suffer by the measure, the evil would still go on, and this even to its former extent. This was, indeed, a very weak argument; and, if it would defend the continuance of the Slave-trade, might equally be urged in favour of robbery, murder, and every species of wickedness, which, if we did not practise, others would commit. But suppose, for the sake of argument, that they were to take it up. What good would it do them? What advantages, for instance, would they derive from this pestilential commerce to their marine? Should not we, on the other hand, be benefited by this change? Would they not be obliged to come to us, in consequence of the cheapness of our manufactures, for what they wanted for the African market? But he would not calumniate the French nation so much as to suppose that they would carry on the trade if we were to relinquish it. He believed, on the other hand, that they would abolish it also. Mr. Necker, the present minister of France, was a man of religious principle; and, in his work upon the administration of the finances, had recorded his abhorrence of this trade. He was happy also to relate an anecdote of the present King of France, which proved that he was a friend to the abolition; for, being petitioned to dissolve a society, formed at Paris, for the annihilation of the Slave-trade, his majesty answered, that he would not, and was happy to hear that so humane an association was formed in his dominions. And here, having mentioned the society in Paris, he could not help paying a due compliment to that established in London for the same purpose, which had laboured with the greatest assiduity to make this important subject understood, and which had conducted itself with so much judgment and moderation as to have interested men of all religions, and to have united them in their cause. There was another topic which he would submit to the notice of the house before he concluded. They were perhaps not aware, that a fair and honourable trade might be substituted in the natural productions of Africa, so that our connection with that continent in the way of commercial advantage need not be lost. The natives had already made some advances in it; and if they had not appeared so forward in raising and collecting their own produce for sale as in some other countries, it was to be imputed to the Slave-trade: but remove the cause, and Africa would soon emerge from her present ignorant and indolent state. Civilization would go on with her as well as with other nations. Europe three or four centuries ago was in many parts as barbarous as Africa at present, and chargeable with as bad practices. For, what would be said, if, so late as the middle of the thirteenth century, he could find a parallel there for the Slave-trade?--Yes. This parallel was to be found even in England. The people of Bristol, in the reign of Henry the Seventh, had a regular market for children, which were bought by the Irish: but the latter having experienced a general calamity, which they imputed as a judgment from Heaven on account of this wicked traffic, abolished it. The only thing, therefore, which he had to solicit of the house, was to show that they were now as enlightened as the Irish were four centuries back, by refusing to buy the children of other nations. He hoped they would do it. He hoped, too, they would do it in an unqualified manner. Nothing less than a total abolition of the trade would do away the evils complained of. The legislature of Jamaica, indeed, had thought that regulations might answer the purpose. Their report had recommended, that no person should be kidnapped, or permitted to be made a slave, contrary to the customs of Africa. But might he not be reduced to this state very unjustly, and yet by no means contrary to the African laws? Besides, how could we distinguish between those who were justly or unjustly reduced to it? Could we discover them by their physiognomy?--But if we could, Who would believe that the British captains would be influenced by any regulations made in this country, to refuse to purchase those who had not been fairly, honestly, and uprightly enslaved? They who were offered to us for sale were brought, some of them, three or four thousand miles, and exchanged like cattle from one hand to another, till they reached the coast. But who could return these to their homes, or make them compensation for their sufferings during their long journeyings? He would now conclude by begging pardon of the house for having detained them so long. He could indeed have expressed his own conviction in fewer words. He needed only to have made one or two short statements, and to have quoted the commandment, "Thou shalt do no murder." But he thought it his duty to lay the whole of the case, and the whole of its guilt, before them. They would see now that no mitigations, no palliatives, would either be efficient or admissible. Nothing short of an absolute abolition could be adopted. This they owed to Africa: they owed it, too, to their own moral characters. And he hoped they would follow up the principle of one of the repentant African captains, who had gone before the committee of privy council as a voluntary witness, and that they would make Africa all the atonement in their power for the multifarious injuries she had received at the hands of British subjects. With respect to these injuries, their enormity and extent, it might be alleged in their excuse, that they were not fully acquainted with them till that moment, and therefore not answerable for their former existence: but now they could no longer plead ignorance concerning them. They had seen them brought directly before their eyes, and they must decide for themselves, and must justify to the world and their own consciences the facts and principles upon which their decision was formed. Mr. Wilberforce having concluded his speech, which lasted three hours and a half, read, and laid on the table of the house, as subjects for their future discussion, twelve propositions, which he had deduced from the evidence contained in the privy council report, and of which the following is the abridged substance: 1. That the number of slaves annually carried from the coast of Africa, in British vessels, was about 38,000, of which, on an average, 22,500 were carried to the British islands, and that of the latter only 17,500 were retained there. 2. That these slaves, according to the evidence on the table, consisted, First, of prisoners of war; Secondly, of free persons sold for debt, or on account of real or imputed crimes, particularly adultery and witchcraft; in which cases they were frequently sold with their whole families, and sometimes for the profit of those by whom they were condemned; Thirdly, of domestic slaves sold for the profit of their masters, in some places at the will of the masters, and in others, on being condemned by them for real or imputed crimes; Fourthly, of persons made slaves by various acts of oppression, violence, or fraud, committed either by the princes and chiefs of those countries on their subjects, or by private individuals on each other;--or, lastly, by Europeans engaged in this traffic. 3. That the trade so carried on had necessarily a tendency to occasion frequent and cruel wars among the natives; to produce unjust convictions and punishments for pretended or aggravated crimes; to encourage acts of oppression, violence, and fraud, and to obstruct the natural course of civilization and improvement in those countries. 4. That Africa in its present state furnished several valuable articles of commerce which were partly peculiar to itself, but that it was adapted to the production of others, with which we were now either wholly or in great part supplied by foreign nations. That an extensive commerce with Africa might be substituted in these commodities, so as to afford a return for as many articles as had annually been carried thither in British vessels: and, lastly, that such a commerce might reasonably be expected to increase by the progress of civilization there. 5. That the Slave-trade was peculiarly destructive to the seamen employed in it; and that the mortality there had been much greater than in any British vessels employed upon the same coast in any other service or trade. 6. That the mode of transporting the slaves from Africa to the West Indies necessarily exposed them to many and grievous sufferings, for which no regulations could provide an adequate remedy; and that in consequence thereof a large proportion had annually perished during the voyage. 7. That a large proportion had also perished in the harbours in the West Indies, from the diseases contracted in the voyage and the treatment of the same, previously to their being sold, and that this loss amounted to four and a half per cent. of the imported slaves. 8. That the loss of the newly imported slaves, within the three first years after their importation, bore a large proportion to the whole number imported. 9. That the natural increase of population among the slaves in the islands, appeared to have been impeded principally by the following causes:--First, By the inequality of the sexes in the importations from Africa. Secondly, By the general dissoluteness of manners among the slaves, and the want of proper regulations for the encouragement of marriages and of rearing children among them. Thirdly, By the particular diseases which were prevalent among them, and which were in some instances to be attributed to too severe labour, or rigorous treatment, and in others to insufficient or improper food. Fourthly, By those diseases, which affected a large proportion of negro-children in their infancy, and by those, to which the negros newly imported from Africa had been found to be particularly liable. 10. That the whole number of the slaves in the island of Jamaica in 1768 was about 167,000, in 1774 about 193,000, and in 1787 about 256,000: that by comparing these numbers with the numbers imported and retained in the said island during all these years, and making proper allowances, the annual excess of deaths above births was in the proportion of about seven-eighths per cent.; that in the first six years of this period it was in the proportion of rather more than one on every hundred; that in the last thirteen years of the same it was in the proportion of about three-fifths on every hundred; and that a number of slaves, amounting to fifteen thousand, perished during the latter period in consequence of repeated hurricanes, and of the want of foreign supplies of provisions. 11. That the whole number of slaves in the island of Barbadoes was in the year 1764 about 70,706; in 1774 about 74,874; in 1780 about 68,270; in 1781, after the hurricane, about 63,248, and in 1786 about 62,115: that by comparing these numbers with the number imported into this island (not allowing for any re-exportation), the annual excess of deaths above births in the ten years from 1764 to 1774 was in the proportion of about five on every hundred; that in the seven years from 1774 to 1780 it was in the proportion of about one and one-third on every hundred; that between the year 1780 and 1781 there had been a decrease in the number of slaves of about five thousand; that in the six years from 1781 to 1786 the excess of deaths was in the proportion of rather less than seven-eighths on every hundred; that in the four years from 1783 to 1786 it was in the proportion of rather less than one-third on every hundred; and that, during the whole period, there was no doubt that some had been exported from the island, but considerably more in the first part of this period than in the last. 12. That the accounts from the Leeward Islands, and from Dominica, Grenada, and St. Vincent's, did not furnish sufficient grounds for comparing the state of population in the said islands at different periods with the number of slaves, which had been from time to time imported there and exported therefrom; but that from the evidence which had been received respecting the present state of these islands, as well as that of Jamaica and Barbadoes, and from a consideration of the means of obviating the causes, which had hitherto operated to impede the natural increase of the slaves, and of lessening the demand for manual labour, without diminishing the profit of the planters, no considerable or permanent inconvenience would result from discontinuing the further importation of African slaves. These propositions having been laid upon the table of the house, Lord Penrhyn rose in behalf of the planters, and, next after him, Mr. Gascoyne (both members for Liverpool) in behalf of the merchants concerned in the latter place. They both predicted the ruin and misery, which would inevitably follow the abolition of the trade. The former said, that no less than seventy millions were mortgaged upon lands in the West Indies, all of which would be lost. Mr. Wilberforce therefore should have made a motion to pledge the house to the repayment of this sum, before he had brought forward his propositions. Compensation ought to have been agreed upon as a previously necessary measure. The latter said, that in consequence of the bill of last year many ships were laid up and many seamen out of employ. His constituents had large capitals engaged in the trade, and, if it were to be wholly done away, they would suffer from not knowing where to employ them. They both joined in asserting, that Mr. Wilberforce had made so many misrepresentations in all the branches of this subject, that no reliance whatever was to be placed on the picture, which he had chosen to exhibit. They should speak however more fully to this point, when the propositions were discussed. The latter declaration called up Mr. Wilberforce again, who observed, that he had no intention of misrepresenting any fact. He did not know that he had done it in any one instance; but, if he had, it would be easy to convict him out of the report upon the table. Mr. Burke then rose. He would not, he said, detain the committee long. Indeed he was not able, weary and indisposed as he then felt himself, even if he had an inclination to do it; but as, on account of his other parliamentary duty, he might not have it in his power to attend the business now before them in its course, he would take that opportunity of stating his opinion upon it. And, first, the house, the nation, and all Europe were under great obligations to Mr. Wilberforce for having brought this important subject forward. He had done it in a manner the most masterly, impressive, and eloquent. He had laid down his principles so admirably, and with so much order and force, that his speech had equalled any thing he had ever heard in modern oratory, and perhaps it had not been excelled by any thing to be found in ancient times. As to the Slave-trade itself, there could not be two opinions about it where men were not interested. A trade, begun in savage war, prosecuted with unheard-of barbarity, continued during the transportation with the most loathsome imprisonment, and ending in perpetual exile and slavery, was a trade so horrid in all its circumstances, that it was impossible to produce a single argument in its favour. On the ground of prudence, nothing could be said in defence of it; nor could it be justified by necessity. It was necessity alone, that could be brought to justify inhumanity; but no case of necessity could be made out strong enough to justify this monstrous traffic. It was therefore the duty of the house to put an end to it, and this without further delay. This conviction, that it became them to do it immediately, made him regret (and it was the only thing he regretted in the admirable speech he had heard) that his honourable friend should have introduced propositions on this subject. He could have wished that the business had been brought to a conclusion at once, without voting the propositions, which had been read to them. He was not over fond of abstract propositions. They were seldom necessary; and often occasioned great difficulty, embarrassment, and delay. There was besides no occasion whatever to assign detailed reasons for a vote, which Nature herself dictated, and which Religion enforced. If it should happen, that the propositions were not carried in that house or the other, such a complication of mischiefs might follow, as might occasion them heartily to lament that they were ever introduced. If the ultimate resolution should happen to be lost, he was afraid the propositions would pass as waste paper, if not be injurious to the cause at a future time. And now, as the house must bring this matter to an issue, he would beg their attention to a particular point. He entreated them to look further than the present moment, and to ask themselves, if they had fortified their minds sufficiently to bear the consequences, which might arise from the abolition of the Slave-trade, supposing they should decide upon it. When they abandoned it, other foreign powers might take it up, and clandestinely supply our islands with slaves. Had they virtue enough to see another country reaping profits, which they themselves had given up; and to abstain from that envy natural to rivals, and firmly to adhere to their determination? If so, let them thankfully proceed to vote the immediate abolition of the Slave-trade. But if they should repent of their virtue (and he had known miserable instances of such repentance), all hopes of future reformation of this enormous evil would be lost. They would go back to a trade they had abandoned with redoubled attachment, and would adhere to it with a degree of avidity and shameless ardour, to their own humiliation, and to the degradation and disgrace of the nation in the eyes of all Europe. These were considerations worth regarding, before they took a decisive step in a business, in which they ought not to move with any other determination than to abide by the consequences at all hazards. The honourable gentleman (who to his eternal honour had introduced this great subject to their notice) had in his eloquent oration knocked at every door, and appealed to every passion, well knowing that mankind were governed by their sympathies. But there were other passions to be regarded. Men were always ready to obey their sympathies, when it cost them nothing. But were they prepared to pay the price of their virtue on this great occasion? This was the question. If they were, they would do themselves immortal honour, and would have the satisfaction of having done away a commerce, which, while it was productive of misery not to be described, most of all hardened the heart, and vitiated the human character. With respect to the consequences mentioned by the two members for Liverpool, he had a word or two to offer upon them. Lord Penrhyn had talked of millions to be lost and paid for. But seeing no probability of any loss ultimately, he could see no necessity for compensation. He believed, on the other hand, that the planters would be great gainers by those wholesome regulations, which they would be obliged to make, if the Slave-trade were abolished. He did not however flatter them with the idea that this gain would be immediate. Perhaps they might experience inconveniences at first, and even some loss. But what then? With their loss, their virtue would be the greater. And in this light he hoped the house would consider the matter; for, if they were called upon to do an act of virtuous energy and heroism, they ought to think it right to submit to temporary disadvantages for the sake of truth, justice, humanity, and the prospect of greater happiness. The other member, Mr. Gascoyne, had said, that his constituents, if the trade were abolished, could not employ their capitals elsewhere. But whether they could or not, it was the duty of that house, if they put them into a traffic, which was shocking to humanity and disgraceful to the nation, to change their application, and not to allow them to be used to a barbarous purpose. He believed, however, that the merchants of Liverpool would find no difficulty on this head. All capitals required active motion. It was in their nature not to remain passive and unemployed. They would soon turn them into other channels. This they had done themselves during the American war; for the Slave-trade was then almost wholly lost, and yet they had their ships employed, either as transports in the service of Government, or in other ways. And as he now called upon the house not to allow any conjectural losses to become impediments in the way of the abolition of the Slave-trade, so he called upon them to beware how they suffered any representations of the happiness of the state of slavery in our islands to influence them against so glorious a measure. Admiral Barrington had said in his testimony, that he had often envied the condition of the slaves there. But surely, the honourable admiral must have meant, that, as he had often toiled like a slave in the defence of his country, (as his many gallant actions had proved,) so he envied the day, when he was to toil in a similar manner in the same cause. If, however, his words to be taken literally, his sensations could only be accounted for by his having seen the negros in the hour of their sports, when a sense of the misery of their condition was neither felt by themselves nor visible to others. But their appearance on such occasions did by no means disprove their low and abject state. Nothing made a happy slave but a degraded man. In proportion as the mind grows callous to its degradation, and all sense of manly pride is lost, the slave feels comfort. In fact, he is no longer a man. If he were to define a man, he would say with Shakespeare, "Man is a being holding large discourse, Looking before and after." But a slave was incapable of looking before and after. He had no motive to do it. He was a mere passive instrument in the hands of others, to be used at their discretion. Though living, he was dead as to all voluntary agency. Though moving amidst the creation with an erect form, and with the shape and semblance of a human being, he was a nullity as a man. Mr. Pitt thanked his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce for having at length introduced this great and important subject to the consideration of the house. He thanked him also for the perspicuous, forcible, and masterly manner, in which he had treated it. He was sure that no argument, compatible with any idea of justice, could be assigned for the continuation of the Slave-trade. And, at the same time that he was willing to listen with candour and attention to every thing, that could be urged on the other side of the question, he was sure that the principles from which his opinion was deduced were unalterable. He had examined the subject with the anxiety which became him, where the happiness and interests of so many thousands were concerned, and with the minuteness which would be expected of him, on account of the responsible situation which he held; and he averred, that it was sophistry, obscurity of ideas, and vagueness of reasoning, which alone could have hitherto prevented all mankind (those immediately interested in the question excepted) from agreeing in one and the same opinion upon the subject. With respect to the propriety of introducing the individual propositions, which had been offered, he differed with Mr. Burke, and he thanked his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce for having chosen the only way, in which it could be made obvious to the world, that they were warranted on every ground of reason and of fact in coming to that vote, which he trusted would be the end of their proceeding. The grounds for the attainment of this end were distinctly stated in the propositions. Let the propositions be brought before the house, one by one, and argued from the evidence; and it would then be seen, that they were such as no one, who was not deaf to the language of reason, could deny. Let them be once entered upon the journals of that house, and it was almost impossible they should fail. The abolition must be voted. As to the mode of it, or how it should be effected, they were not at present to discuss it; but he trusted it would be such, as would not invite foreign powers to supply our islands with slaves by a clandestine trade. After a debt, founded on the immutable principles of justice, was found to be due, it was impossible but the country had means to cause it to be paid. Should such an illicit proceeding be attempted, the only language which it became us to adopt was, that Great Britain had resources to enable her to protect her islands, and to prevent that traffic from being clandestinely carried on by them, which she had thought fit from a regard to her character to abandon. It was highly becoming Great Britain to take the lead of other nations in such a virtuous and magnificent measure, and he could not but have confidence, that they would be inclined to share the honour with us, or be pleased to follow us as their example. If we were disposed to set about this glorious work in earnest, they might be invited to concur with us by a negotiation to be immediately opened for that purpose. He would only now observe, before he sat down, in answer to certain ideas thrown out, that he could by no means acquiesce in any compensation for losses, which might be sustained by the people of Liverpool, or by others in any other part of the kingdom, in the execution of this just and necessary undertaking. Sir William Yonge said, he wanted no inducement to concur with the honourable mover of the propositions, provided the latter could be fairly established, and no serious mischiefs were to arise from the abolition. But he was apprehensive that many evils might follow, in the case of any sudden or unlooked-for decrease in the slaves. They might be destroyed by hurricanes. They might be swept off by many fatal disorders. In these cases, the owners of them would not be able to fill up their places, and they who had lent money upon the lands, where the losses had happened, would foreclose their mortgages. He was fearful also that a clandestine trade would be carried on, and then the sufferings of the Africans, crammed up in small vessels, which would be obliged to be hovering about from day to day, to watch an opportunity of landing, would be ten times greater than any which they now experienced in the legal trade. He was glad, however, as the matter was to be discussed, that it had been brought forward in the shape of distinct propositions, to be grounded upon the evidence in the privy council report. Mr. Fox observed, that he did not like, where he agreed as to the substance of a measure, to differ with respect to the form of it. If, however, he differed in any thing in the present case, it was with a view rather to forward the business than to injure it, or to throw any thing like an obstacle in its way. Nothing like either should come from him. What he thought was, that all the propositions were not necessary to be voted previously to the ultimate decision, though some of them undoubtedly were. He considered them as of two classes: the one, alleging the grounds upon which it was proper to proceed to the abolition; such as that the trade was productive of inexpressible misery, in various ways, to the innocent natives of Africa; that it was the grave of our seamen; and so on: the other, merely answering objections which might be started, and where there might be a difference of opinion. He was however glad that the propositions were likely to be entered upon the journals; since, if from any misfortune the business should be deferred, it might succeed another year. Sure he was that it could not fail to succeed sooner or later. He highly approved of what Mr. Pitt had said, relative to the language it became us to hold out to foreign powers in case of a clandestine trade. With respect, however, to the assertion of Sir William Yonge, that a clandestine trade in slaves would be worse than a legal one, he could not admit it. Such a trade, if it existed at all, ought only to be clandestine. A trade in human flesh and sinews was so scandalous, that it ought not openly to be carried on by any government whatever, and much less by that of a Christian country. With regard to the regulation of the Slave-trade, he knew of no such thing as a regulation of robbery and murder. There was no medium. The legislature must either abolish it, or plead guilty of all the wickedness which had been shown to attend it. He would now say a word or two with respect to the conduct of foreign nations on this subject. It was possible that these, when they heard that the matter had been discussed in that house, might follow the example, or they might go before us and set one themselves. If this were to happen, though we might be the losers, humanity would be the gainer. He himself had been thought sometimes to use expressions relative to France, which were too harsh, and as if he could only treat her as the enemy of this country. Politically speaking, France was our rival. But he well knew the distinction between political enmity and illiberal prejudice. If there was any great and enlightened nation in Europe, it was France, which was as likely as any country upon the face of the globe to catch a spark from the light of our fire, and to act upon the present subject with warmth and enthusiasm. France had often been improperly stimulated by her ambition; and he had no doubt but that, in the present instance, she would readily follow its honourable dictates. Mr. (now Lord) Grenville would not detain the house by going into a question, which had been so ably argued; but he should not do justice to his feelings, if he did not express publicly to his honourable friend, Mr. Wilberforce, the pleasure he had received from one of the most masterly and eloquent speeches he had ever heard,--a speech, which, while it did honour to him, entitled him to the thanks of the house, of the people of England, of all Europe, and of the latest posterity. He approved of the propositions, as the best mode of bringing this great question to a happy issue. He was pleased also with the language which had been held out with respect to foreign nations, and with our determination to assert our right of preventing our colonies from carrying on any trade, which we had thought it our duty to abandon. Aldermen Newnham, Sawbridge, and Watson, though they wished well to the cause of humanity, could not, as representatives of the city of London, give their concurrence to a measure, which would injure it so essentially as that of the abolition of the Slave-trade. This trade might undoubtedly be put under wholesome regulations, and made productive of great commercial advantages. But, if it were abolished, it would render the city of London one scene of bankruptcy and ruin. It became the house to take care, while they were giving way to the goodness of their hearts, that they did not contribute to the ruin of the mercantile interests of their country. Mr. Martin stated, that he was so well satisfied with the speech of the honourable gentleman, who had introduced the propositions, and with the language held out by other distinguished members on this subject, that he felt himself more proud than ever of being an Englishman. He hoped and believed, that the melancholy predictions of the worthy aldermen would not prove true, and that the citizens of London would have too much public spirit to wish that a great national object (which comprehended the great duties of humanity, and justice) should be set aside, merely out of consideration to their own private interests. Mr. Dempster expected, notwithstanding all he had heard, that the first proposition submitted to them, would have been to make good out of the public purse all the losses individuals were liable to sustain from an abolition of the Slave-trade. This ought to have been, as Lord Penrhyn had observed, a preliminary measure. He did not like to be generous out of the pockets of others. They were to abolish the trade, it was said, out of a principle of humanity. Undoubtedly they owed humanity to all mankind. But they also owed justice to those, who were interested in the event of the question, and had embarked their fortunes on the faith of parliament. In fact, he did not like to see men introducing even their schemes of benevolence to the detriment of other people; and much less did he like to see them going to the colonies, as it were upon their estates, and prescribing rules to them for their management. With respect to his own speculative opinion, as it regarded cultivation, he had no objection to give it. He was sure that sugar could be raised cheaper by free men than by slaves. This the practice in China abundantly proved. But yet neither he nor any other person had a right to force a system upon others. As to the trade itself, by which the present labourers were supplied, it had been considered by that house as so valuable, that they had preferred it to all others, and had annually voted a considerable sum towards carrying it on. They had hitherto deemed it an essential nursery for our seamen. Had it really been such as had been represented, our ancestors would scarcely have encouraged it; and therefore, upon these and other considerations, he could not help thinking that they would be wanting in their duty, if they abolished it altogether. Mr. William Smith would not detain the house long at that late hour upon this important subject; but he could not help testifying the great satisfaction he felt at the manner, in which the honourable gentleman who opened the debate (if it could be so called) had treated it. He approved of the propositions as the best mode of bringing the decision to a happy issue. He gave Mr. Fox great credit for the open and manly way, in which he had manifested his abhorrence of this trade, and for the support he meant to give to the total and unqualified abolition of it; for he was satisfied, that the more it was inquired into, the more it would be found that nothing short of abolition would cure the evil. With respect to certain assertions of the members for Liverpool, and certain melancholy predictions about the consequences of such an event, which others had held out, he desired to lay in his claim for observation upon them, when the great question should come before the house. Soon after this the house broke up; and the discussion of the propositions, which was the next parliamentary measure intended, was postponed to a future day, which was sufficiently distant to give all the parties concerned time to make the necessary preparations for it. Of this interval the committee for the abolition availed themselves to thank Mr. Wilberforce for the very able and satisfactory manner, in which he had stated to the house his propositions for the abolition of the Slave-trade, and for the unparalleled assiduity and perseverance, with which he had all along endeavoured to accomplish this object, as well as to take measures themselves for the further promotion of it. Their opponents availed themselves of this interval also. But that, which now embarrassed them, was the evidence contained in the privy council report. They had no idea, considering the number of witnesses they had sent to be examined, that this evidence, when duly weighed, could by right reasoning have given birth to the sentiments, which had been displayed in the speeches of the most distinguished members of the House of Commons, or to the contents of the propositions, which had been laid upon their table. They were thunder-struck as it were by their own weakness; and from this time they were determined, if possible, to get rid of it as a standard for decision, or to interpose every parliamentary delay in their power. On the twenty-first of May, the subject came again before the attention of the house. It was ushered in, as was expected, by petitions collected in the interim, and which were expressive of the frightful consequences, which would attend the abolition of the Slave-trade. Alderman Newnham presented one from certain merchants in London; Alderman Watson another from certain merchants, mortgagees, and creditors of the sugar-islands; Lord Maitland another from the planters of Antigua; Mr. Blackburne another from certain manufacturers of Manchester; Mr. Gascoyne another from the corporation of Liverpool; and Lord Penrhyn others from different interested bodies in the same town. Mr. Wilberforce then moved the order of the day, for the house to go into a committee of the whole house on the report of the privy council, and the several matters of evidence already upon the table relative to the Slave-trade. Mr. Alderman Sawbridge immediately arose, and asked Mr. Wilberforce, if he meant to adduce any other evidence, besides that in the privy council report, in behalf of his propositions, or to admit other witnesses, if such could be found, to invalidate them. Mr. Wilberforce replied, that he was quite satisfied with the report on the table. It would establish all his propositions. He should call no witnesses himself: as to permission to others to call them, that must be determined by the house. This question and this answer gave birth immediately to great disputes upon the subject. Aldermen Sawbridge, Newnham, and Watson; Lords Penrhyn and Maitland; Mr. Gascoyne, Marsham, and others spoke against the admission of the evidence, which had been laid upon the table. They contended, that it was insufficient, defective, and contradictory; that it was _ex parte_ evidence; that it had been manufactured by ministers; that it was founded chiefly on hearsay, and that the greatest part of it was false; that it had undergone no cross-examination; that it was unconstitutional; and that, if they admitted it, they would establish a dangerous precedent, and abandon their rights. It was urged on the other hand by Mr. Courtenay, that it could not be _ex parte_ evidence, because it contained testimony on both sides of the question. The circumstance also of its being contradictory, which had been alleged against it, proved that it was the result of an impartial examination. Mr. Fox observed, that it was perfectly admissible. He called upon those, who took the other side of the question, to say why, if it was really inadmissible, they had not opposed it at first. It had now been a long time on the table, and no fault had been found with it. The truth was, it did not suit them, and they were determined by a side-wind as it were to put an end to the inquiry. Mr. Pitt observed that, if parliament had previously resolved to receive no evidence on a given subject but from the privy council, such a resolution indeed would strike at the root of the privileges of the House of Commons; but it was absurd to suppose that the house could upon no occasion receive evidence, taken where it was most convenient to take it, and subject throughout to new investigation, if any one doubted its validity. The report of the privy council consisted, first, of calculations and accounts from the public offices, and, next, of written documents on the subject; both of which were just as authentic, as if they had been laid upon the table of that house. The remaining part of it consisted of the testimony of living witnesses, all of whose names were published, so that if any one doubted their veracity, it was open to him to reexamine all or each of them. It had been said by adversaries that the report on the table was a weak and imperfect report, but would not these have the advantage of its weakness and imperfection? It was strange, when his honourable friend, Mr. Wilberforce, had said, "Weak and imperfect as the report may be thought to be, I think it strong enough to bear me out in all my propositions," that they, who objected to it, should have no better reason to give than this, "We object, because the ground of evidence on which you rest is too weak to support your cause." Unless it were meant to say (and the meaning seemed to be but thinly disguised) that the house ought to abandon the inquiry, he saw no reason whatever for not going immediately into a committee; and he wished gentlemen to consider whether it became the dignity of their proceedings to obstruct the progress of an inquiry, which the house had pledged itself to undertake. Their conduct indeed seemed extraordinary on this occasion. It was certainly singular that, while the report had been five weeks upon the table, no argument had been brought against its sufficiency; but that on the moment when the house was expected to come to an ultimate vote upon the subject, it should be thought defective, contradictory, unconstitutional, and otherwise objectionable. These objections, he was satisfied, neither did nor could originate with the country gentlemen; but they were brought forward, for purposes not now to be concealed, by the avowed enemies of this noble cause. In the course of the discussion, which arose upon this subject, every opportunity was taken to impress the house with the dreadful consequences of the abolition. Mr. Henniker read a long letter from the King of Dahomey to George the First; which had been found among the papers of James, first Duke of Chandos, and which had remained in the family till that time. In this, the King of Dahomey boasted of his victory over the King of Ardrah, and how he had ornamented the pavement and walls of his palace with the heads of the vanquished. These cruelties, Mr. Henniker said, were not imputable to the Slave-trade. They showed the Africans to be naturally a savage people, and that we did them a great kindness by taking them from their country. Alderman Sawbridge maintained that, if the abolition passed, the Africans, who could not be sold as slaves, would be butchered at home; while those, who had been carried to our islands, would be no longer under control. Hence insurrections, and the manifold evils which belonged to them. Alderman Newnham was certain that the abolition would be the ruin of the trade of the country. It would affect even the landed interest, and the funds. It would be impossible to collect money to diminish the national debt. Every man in the kingdom would feel the abolition come home to him. Alderman Watson maintained the same argument, and pronounced the trade under discussion to be a merciful and humane trade. Compensation was also insisted upon by Mr. Drake, Alderman Newnham, Mr. Henniker, Mr. Cruger, and others. This was resisted by Mr. Burke; who said that compensation in such a case would be contrary to every principle of legislation. Government gave encouragement to any branch of commerce, while it was regarded as conducive to the welfare of the community, or compatible with humanity and justice. But they were competent to withdraw their countenance from it, when it was found to be immoral, and injurious, and disgraceful to the state. They, who engaged in it, knew the terms under which they were placed, and adopted it with all the risks with which it was accompanied; and of consequence it was but just, that they should be prepared to abide by the loss which might accrue, when the public should think it right no longer to support it. But such a trade as this it was impossible any longer to support. Indeed it was not a trade. It was a system of robbery. It was a system, too, injurious to the welfare of other nations. How could Africa ever be civilized under it? While we continued to purchase the natives, they must remain in a state of barbarism. It was impossible to civilize slaves. It was contrary to the system of human nature. There was no country placed under such disadvantageous circumstances, into which the shadow of improvement had ever been introduced. Great pains were taken to impress the house with the propriety of regulation. Sir Grey Cooper; Aldermen Sawbridge, Watson, and Newnham; Mr. Marsham, and Mr. Cruger, contended strenuously for it, instead of abolition. It was also stated that the merchants would consent to any regulation of the trade, which might be offered them. In the course of the debate much warmth of temper was manifested on both sides. The expression of Mr. Fox in a former debate, "that the Slave-trade could not be regulated, because there could be no regulation of robbery and murder," was brought up, and construed by planters in the house as a charge of these crimes upon themselves. Mr. Fox, however, would not retract the expression. He repeated it. He had no notion, however, that any individual would have taken it to himself. If it contained any reflection at all, it was on the whole parliament, who had sanctioned such a trade. Mr. Molyneux rose up, and animadverted severely on the character of Mr. Ramsay, one of the evidences in the privy council report, during his residence in the West Indies. This called up Sir William Dolben and Sir Charles Middleton in his defence, the latter of whom bore honourable testimony to his virtues from an intimate acquaintance with him, and a residence in the same village with him, for twenty years. Mr. Molyneux spoke also in angry terms of the measure of abolition. To annihilate the trade, he said, and to make no compensation on account of it, was an act of swindling. Mr. Macnamara called the measure hypocritical, fanatic, and methodistical. Mr. Pitt was so irritated at the insidious attempt to set aside the privy council report, when no complaint had been alleged against it before, that he was quite off his guard, and he thought it right afterwards to apologize for the warmth into he had been betrayed. The Speaker too was obliged frequently to interfere. On this occasion no less than thirty members spoke. And there had probably been few seasons, when so much disorder had been discoverable in that house. The result of the debate was, a permission to those interested in the continuance of the Slave-trade to bring counsel to the bar on the twenty-sixth of May, and then to introduce such witnesses, as might throw further light on the propositions in the shortest time: for Mr. Pitt only acquiesced in this new measure on a supposition, "that there would be no unnecessary delay, as he could, by no means submit to the ultimate procrastination of so important a business." He even hoped (and in this hope he was joined by Mr. Fox) that those concerned would endeavour to bring the whole of the evidence they meant to offer at the first examination. On the day appointed, the house met for the purposes now specified; when Alderman Newnham, thinking that such an important question should not be decided but in a full assembly of the representatives of the nation, moved for a call of the house on that day fortnight. Mr. Wilberforce stated that he had no objection to such a measure; believing the greater the number present the more favourable it would be to his cause. This motion, however, produced a debate and a division, in which it appeared that there were one hundred and fifty-eight in favour of it, and twenty-eight against it. The business of the day now commenced. The house went into a committee, and Sir William Dolben was put into the chair. Mr. Serjeant Le Blanc was then called in. He made an able speech in behalf of his clients; and introduced John Barnes, esquire, as his first witness, whose examination took up the remainder of the day. By this step they, who were interested in the continuance of the trade, attained their wishes, for they had now got possession of the ground with their evidence; and they knew they could keep it, almost as long as they pleased, for the purposes of delay. Thus they, who boasted, when the privy council examinations began, that they would soon do away all the idle tales, which had been invented against them, and who desired the public only to suspend their judgment till the report should come out, when they would see the folly and wickedness of all our allegations, dared not abide by the evidence, which they themselves had taught others to look up to as the standard by which they were desirous of being judged: thus they, who had advantages beyond measure in forming a body of evidence in their own favour, abandoned that, which they had collected. And here it is impossible for me not to make a short comparative statement on this subject, if it were only to show how little can be made out, with the very best opportunities, against the cause of humanity and religion. With respect to ourselves, we had almost all our witnesses to seek. We had to travel after them for weeks together. When we found them, we had scarcely the power of choice. We were obliged to take them as they came. When we found them, too, we had generally to implore them to come forward in our behalf. Of those so implored three out of four refused, and the plea for this refusal was a fear lest they should injure their own interests. The merchants, on the other hand, had their witnesses ready on the spot. They had always ships in harbour containing persons, who had a knowledge of the subject. They had several also from whom to choose. If one man was favourable to their cause in three of the points belonging to it, but was unfavourable in the fourth, he could be put aside and replaced. When they had thus selected them, they had not to entreat, but to command, their attendance. They had no fear, again, when they thus commanded, of a refusal on the ground of interest; because these were promoting their interest by obliging those who employed them. Viewing these and other circumstances, which might be thrown into this comparative statement, it was some consolation to us to know, amidst the disappointment which this new measure occasioned, and our apparent defeat in the eyes of the public, that we had really beaten our opponents at their own weapons, and that, as this was a victory in our own private feelings, so it was the presage to us of a future triumph. On the twenty-ninth of May, Mr. Tierney made a motion to divide the consideration of the Slave-trade into two heads, by separating the African from the West Indian part of the question. This he did for the more clear discussion of the propositions, as well as to save time. This motion, however, was overruled by Mr. Pitt. At length, on the ninth of June, by which time it was supposed that new light, and this in sufficient quantity, would have been thrown upon the propositions, it appeared that only two witnesses had been fully heard. The examinations, therefore, were continued, and they went on till the twenty-third. On this day, the order for the call of the house, which had been prolonged, standing unrepealed, there was a large attendance of members. A motion was then made to get rid of the business altogether, but it failed. It was now seen, however, that it was impossible to bring the question to a final decision in this session, for they, who were interested in it, affirmed that they had yet many important witnesses to introduce. Alderman Newnham, therefore, by the consent of Mr. Wilberforce, moved, that "the further consideration of the subject be deferred to the next session." On this occasion, Mr. William Smith remarked, that though the decision on the great question was thus to be adjourned, he hoped the examinations, at least, would be permitted to go on. He had not heard any good reason, why they might not be carried on for some weeks longer. It was known that the hearing of evidence was at all times thinly attended. If therefore the few members, who did attend, were willing to give up their time a little longer, why should other members complain of an inconvenience in the suffering of which they took no share? He thought that by this proceeding the examination of witnesses on the part of the merchants might be finished, and of consequence the business brought into a very desirable state of forwardness against the ensuing session. These observations had not the desired effect, and the motion of Mr. Alderman Newnham was carried without a division. Thus the great question, for the elucidation of which all the new evidences were to be heard at the very first examination, in order that it might be decided by the ninth of June, was by the intrigue of our opponents deferred to another year. The order of the day for going into the further consideration of the Slave-trade having been discharged, Sir William Dolben rose, to state, that it was his intention to renew his bill of the former year, relative to the conveyance of the unhappy Africans from their own country to the West Indies, and to propose certain alterations in it. He made a motion accordingly, which was adopted; and he and Mr. Wilberforce were desired to prepare the same. This bill he introduced soon afterwards, and it passed; but not without opposition. It was a matter, however, of great pleasure to find that the worthy baronet was enabled by the assistance of Captain (afterwards Admiral) Macbride, and other naval officers in the house, to carry such clauses, as provided in some degree for the comfort of the poor seamen, who were seduced into this wicked trade. They could not indeed provide against the barbarity of their captains; but they secured them a space under the half deck in which to sleep. They prescribed a form of muster-rolls, which they were to see and sign in the presence of the clearing officer. They regulated their food both as to kind and quantity; and they preserved them from many of the impositions, to which they had been before exposed. From the time when Mr. Wilberforce gave his first notice this session to the present, I had been variously employed, but more particularly in the composition of a new work. It was soon perceived to be the object of our opponents, to impress upon the public the preference of regulation to abolition. I attempted therefore to show the fallacy and wickedness of this notion. I divided the evils belonging to the Slave-trade into two kinds. These I enumerated in their order. With respect to those of the first kind, I proved that they were never to be remedied by any acts of the British parliament. Thus, for instance, what bill could alter the nature of the human passions? What bill could prevent fraud and violence in Africa, while the Slave-trade existed there? What bill could prevent the miserable victims of the trade from rising, when on board the ships, if they saw an opportunity, and felt a keen sense of their oppression? Those of the second I stated to admit of a remedy, and, after making accurate calculations on the subject of each, I showed that those merchants, who were to do them away effectually, would be ruined by their voyages. The work was called An Essay on the comparative Efficiency of Regulation or Abolition as applied to the Slave-trade. The committee also in this interval brought out their famous print of the plan and section of a slave-ship; which was designed to give the spectator an idea of the sufferings of the Africans in the Middle Passage, and this so familiarly, that he might instantly pronounce upon the miseries experienced there. The committee at Plymouth had been the first to suggest the idea; but that in London had now improved it. As this print seemed to make an instantaneous impression of horror upon all who saw it, and as it was therefore very instrumental, in consequence of the wide circulation given it, in serving the cause of the injured Africans, I have given the reader a copy of it in the annexed plate, and I will now state the ground or basis, upon which it was formed. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] It must be obvious that it became the committee to select some one ship, which had been engaged in the Slave-trade, with her real dimensions, if they meant to make a fair representation of the manner of the transportation. When Captain Parrey, of the royal navy, returned from Liverpool, to which place Government had sent him, he brought with him the admeasurement of several vessels, which had been so employed, and laid them on the table of the House of Commons. At the top of his list stood the ship Brookes. The committee therefore, in choosing a vessel on this occasion, made use of the ship Brookes; and this they did, because they thought it less objectionable to take the first that came, than any other. The vessel then in the plate is the vessel now mentioned, and the following is her admeasurement as given in by Captain Parrey. Ft. In. Length of the lower deck, gratings, and bulkheads included at A A, 100 0 Breadth of beam on the lower deck inside, B B, 25 0 Depth of hold O O O, from ceiling to ceiling, 10 0 Height between decks from deck to deck, 5 0 Length of the men's room, C C, on the lower deck, 46 0 Breadth of the men's room, C C, on the lower deck, 25 4 Length of the platform, D D, in the men's room, 46 0 Breadth of the platform, in the men's room, on each side, 6 0 Length of the boys' room, E E, 13 0 Breadth of the boys' room, 25 0 Breadth of platform, F F, in boys' room, 6 0 Length of women's room, G G, 28 6 Breadth of women's room, 23 6 Length of platform, H H, in women's room, 28 6 Breadth of platform in women's room, 6 0 Length of the gun-room, I I, on the lower deck, 10 6 Breadth of the gun-room on the lower deck, 12 0 Length of the quarter deck, K K, 33 6 Breadth of the quarter deck, 19 6 Length of the cabin, L L, 14 0 Height of the cabin, 6 2 Length of the half deck, M M, 16 6 Height of the half deck, 6 2 Length of the platform, N N, on the half deck, 16 6 Breadth of the platform on the half deck, 6 0 Upper deck, P P, The committee, having proceeded thus far, thought that they should now allow certain dimensions for every man, woman, and child; and then see, how many persons, upon such dimensions and upon the admeasurements just given, could be stowed in this vessel. They allowed, accordingly, to every man slave six feet by one foot four inches for room, to every woman five feet by one foot four, to every boy five feet by one foot two, and to every girl four feet six by one foot. They then stowed them, and found them as in the annexed plate, that is, they found (deducting the women stowed in Z of figures 6 and 7, which spaces, being half of the half deck, were allowed by Sir William Dolben's last bill to the seamen) that only four hundred and fifty could be stowed in her; and the reader will find, if he should think it worth while to count the figures in the plate, that, on making the deduction mentioned, they will amount to this number. The committee then thought it right to inquire how many slaves, the act of Sir William Dolben allowed this vessel to carry, and they found the number to be one hundred and fifty-four; that is, they found it allowed her to carry four more than could be put in without trespassing upon the room allotted to the rest; for we see that the bodies of the slaves, except just at the head of the vessel, already touch each other, and that no deduction has been made for tubs or stanchions to support the platforms and decks. Such was the picture, which the committee were obliged to draw, if they regarded mathematical accuracy, of the room allotted to the slaves in this vessel. By this picture was exhibited the nature of the Elysium, which Mr. Norris and others had invented for them during their transportation from their own country. By this picture were seen also the advantages of Sir William Dolben's bill; for many, on looking at the plate, considered the regulation itself as perfect barbarism. The advantages however obtained by it were considerable; for the Brookes was now restricted to four hundred and fifty slaves, whereas it was proved that she carried six hundred and nine in a former voyage. The committee, at the conclusion of the session of parliament, made a suitable report. It will be unnecessary to detail this for obvious reasons. There was, however, one thing contained in it, which ought not to be omitted. It stated, with appropriate concern, the death of the first controversial writer, and of one of the most able and indefatigable labourers, in their cause. Mr. Ramsay had been for some time indisposed. The climate of the West Indies, during a residence of twenty years, and the agitation in which his mind had been kept for the last four years of his life, in consequence of the virulent attacks on his word and character by those interested in the continuance of the trade, had contributed to undermine his constitution. During his whole illness he was cheerful and composed; nor did he allow it to hinder him, severe as it was, from taking any opportunity which offered of serving those unhappy persons, for whose injuries he had so deeply felt. A few days only before he died, I received from him probably the last letter he ever wrote, of which the following is an extract: "My health has certainly taken a most alarming turn; and if some considerable alteration does not take place for the better in a very little time, it will be all over with me; I mean as to the present life. I have lost all appetite; and suffer grievously from an almost continual pain in my stomach, which leaves me no enjoyment of myself, but such as I can collect from my own reflections, and the comforts of religion. I am glad the bill for the abolition is in such forwardness. Whether it goes through the House or not, the discussion attending it will have a most beneficial effect. The whole of this business I think now to be in such a train, as to enable me to bid farewell to the present scene with the satisfaction of not having lived in vain, and of having done something towards the improvement of our common nature; and this at no little expense of time and reputation. The little I have now written is my utmost effort; yet yesterday I thought it necessary to write an answer to a scurrilous libel in The Diary by one Scipio. On my own account he should have remained unnoticed, but our great cause must be kept unsullied." Mr. Ramsay was a man of active habit, of diligence and perseverance in his undertakings, and of extraordinary application. He was of mild and humble manners. He possessed a strong understanding, with great coolness and courage. Patriotism and public spirit were striking traits in his character. In domestic life he was amiable: in the ministry, exemplary and useful; and he died to the great regret of his parishioners, but most of all to that of those, who moved with him in his attempts to bring about the important event of the abolition of the Slave-trade. CHAPTER II. _Continuation from July 1789 to July 1790--Author travels to Paris to promote the abolition in France--attends the committees of the Friends of the Negros--Counter attempts of the committee of White Colonists--An account of the deputies of Colour--Meeting at the Duke de la Rochefoucauld's--Mirabeau espouses the cause--canvasses the National Assembly--Distribution of the section of the slave-ship there--Character of Brissot--Author leaves Paris and returns to England--Examination of merchants' and planters' evidence resumed in the House of Commons--Author travels in search of evidence in favour of the abolition--Opposition to the hearing of it--This evidence is at length introduced--Renewal of Sir William Dolben's bill--Distribution of the section of the slave-ship in England--and of Cowper's Negro's Complaint--and of Wedgewood's Cameos._ We usually find, as we give ourselves up to reflection, some little mitigation of the afflictions we experience; and yet of the evils which come upon us, some are often so heavy as to overpower the sources of consolation for a time, and to leave us wretched. This was nearly our situation at the close of the last session of parliament. It would be idle not to confess that circumstances had occurred, which wounded us deeply. Though we had foiled our opponents at their own weapons, and had experienced the uninterrupted good wishes and support of the public, we had the great mortification to see the enthusiasm of members of parliament beginning to cool; to see a question of humanity and justice (for such it was, when it was delivered into their hands) verging towards that of commercial calculation; and finally to see regulation, as it related to it in the way of being substituted for abolition. But most of all were we affected, knowing as we did the nature and the extent of the sufferings belonging to Slave-trade, that these should be continued to another year. This last consideration almost overpowered me. It had fallen to my lot, more than to that of any other person, to know these evils, and I seemed almost inconsolable at the postponement of the question. I wondered how members of parliament, and these Englishmen, could talk as they did on this subject; how they could bear for a moment to consider their fellow-man as an article of trade; and how they should not count even the delay of an hour, which occasioned so much misery to continue, as one of the most criminal actions of their lives. It was in vain, however, to sink under our burthens. Grief could do no good; and if our affairs had taken an unfavourable turn, the question was, how to restore them. It was sufficiently obvious that, if our opponents were left to themselves, or, without any counteracting evidence, they would considerably soften down the propositions, if not invalidate them in the minds of many. They had such a power of selection of witnesses, that they could bring men forward, who might say with truth, that they had seen but very few of the evils complained of, and these in an inferior degree. We knew also from the example of the Liverpool delegates, how interest and prejudice could blind the eyes, and how others might be called upon to give their testimony, who would dwell upon the comforts of the Africans, when they came into our power; on the sprinkling of their apartments with frankincense; on the promotion of music and the dance among them; and on the health and festivity of their voyages. It seemed therefore necessary, that we should again be looking out for evidence on the part of the abolition. Nor did it seem to me to be unreasonable, if our opponents were allowed to come forward in a new way, because it was more constitutional, that we should be allowed the same privilege. By these means the evidence, of which we had now lost the use, might be restored; indifference might be fanned into warmth; commercial calculation might be overpowered by justice; and abolition, rising above the reach of the cry of regulation, might eventually triumph. I communicated my ideas to the committee, and offered to go round the kingdom to accomplish this object. The committee had themselves been considering what measures to take, and as each in his own mind had come to conclusions similar with my own, my proposal was no sooner made, than adopted. I had not been long upon this journey, when I was called back. Mr. Wilberforce, always solicitous for the good of this great cause, was of opinion, that, as commotions had taken place in France, which then aimed at political reforms, it was possible that the leading persons concerned in them might, if an application were made to them judiciously, be induced to take the Slave-trade into their consideration, and incorporate it among the abuses to be done away. Such a measure, if realized, would not only lessen the quantity of human suffering, but annihilate a powerful political argument against us. He had a conference therefore with the committee on this subject; and, as they accorded with his opinion, they united with him in writing a letter to me, to know if I would change my journey, and proceed to France. As I had no object in view but the good of the cause, it was immaterial to me where I went, if I could but serve it; and therefore, without any further delay, I returned to London. As accounts had arrived in England of the excesses which had taken place in the city of Paris, and of the agitated state of the provinces through which I was to pass, I was desired by several of my friends to change my name. To this I could not consent; and, on consulting the committee, they were decidedly against it. I was introduced as quickly as possible, on my arrival at Paris, to the friends of the cause there, to the Duke de la Rochefoucald, the Marquis de Condorcet, Messieurs Petion de Villeneuve, Claviere, and Brissot, and to the Marquis de la Fayette. The latter received me with peculiar marks of attention. He had long felt for the wrongs of Africa, and had done much to prevent them. He had a plantation in Cayenne, and had devised a plan, by which the labourers upon it should pass by degrees from slavery to freedom. With this view he had there laid it down as a principle, that all crimes were equal, whether they were committed by Blacks or Whites, and ought equally to be punished. As the human mind is of such a nature, as to be acted upon by rewards as well as punishments, he thought it unreasonable, that the slaves should have no advantage from a stimulus from the former. He laid it down therefore as another principle, that temporal profits should follow virtuous action. To this he subjoined a reasonable education to be gradually given. By introducing such principles, and by making various regulations for the protection and comforts of the slaves, he thought he could prove to the planters, that there was no necessity for the Slave-trade; that the slaves upon all their estates would increase sufficiently by population; that they might be introduced gradually, and without detriment, to a state of freedom; and that then the real interests of all would be most promoted. This system he had begun to act upon two years before I saw him. He had also, when the society was established in Paris, which took the name of The Friends of the Negros, enrolled himself a member of it. The first public steps taken after my arrival in Paris were at a committee of the Friends of the Negros, which was but thinly attended. None of those mentioned, except Brissot, were present. It was resolved there, that the committee should solicit an audience of Mr. Necker; and that I should wait upon him, accompanied by a deputation consisting of the Marquis de Condorcet, Monsieur de Bourge, and Brissot de Warwille; Secondly, that the committee should write to the president of the National Assembly, and request the favour of him to appoint a day for hearing the cause of the Negros; and, Thirdly, that it should be recommended to the committee in London to draw up a petition to the National Assembly of France, praying for the abolition of the Slave-trade by that country. This petition, it was observed, was to be signed by as great a number of the friends to the cause in England, as could be procured. It was then to be sent to the committee at Paris, who would take it in a body to the place of its destination. I found great delicacy as a stranger in making my observations upon these resolutions, and yet I thought I ought not to pass them over wholly in silence, but particularly the last. I therefore rose up, and stated that there was one resolution, of which I did not quite see the propriety. But this might arise from my ignorance of the customs, as well as of the genius and spirit of the French people. It struck me that an application from a little committee in England to the National Assembly of France was not a dignified measure, nor was it likely to have weight with such a body. It was, besides, contrary to all the habits of propriety, in which I had been educated. The British Parliament did not usually receive petitions from the subjects of other nations. It was this feeling, which had induced me thus to speak. To these observations it was replied, that the National Assembly of France would glory in going contrary to the example of other nations in a case of generosity and justice, and that the petition in question, if it could be obtained, would have an influence there, which the people of England, unacquainted with the sentiments of the French nation, would hardly credit. To this I had only to reply, that I would communicate the measure to the committee in London, but that I could not be answerable for the part they would take in it. By an answer received from Mr. Necker, relative to the first of these resolutions, it appeared that the desired interview had been obtained: but he granted it only for a few minutes, and this principally to show his good will to the cause. For he was then so oppressed with business in his own department, that he had but little time for any other. He wrote to me however the next day, and desired my company to dinner. He then expressed a wish to me, that any business relative to the Slave-trade might be managed by ourselves as individuals, and that I would take the opportunity of dining with him occasionally for this purpose. By this plan, he said, both of us would save time. Madame Necker also promised to represent her husband, if I should call in his absence, and to receive me, and converse with me on all occasions, in which this great cause of humanity and religion might be concerned. With respect to the other resolutions nothing ever came of them; for we waited daily for an answer from the president during the whole of his presidency, but we never received any; and the committee in London, when they had read my letter, desired me unequivocally to say, that they did not see the propriety of the petition, which it had been recommended to them to obtain. At the next meeting it was resolved, that a letter should be written to the new president for the same purpose as the former. This, it was said, was now rendered essentially necessary. For the merchants, planters, and others interested in the continuance of the Slave-trade, were so alarmed at the enthusiasm of the French people, in favour of the new order of things, and of any change recommended to them, which had the appearance of promoting the cause of liberty, that they held daily committees to watch and to thwart the motions of the Friends of the Negros. It was therefore thought proper, that the appeal to the Assembly should be immediate on this subject, before the feelings of the people should cool, or, before they, who were thus interested, should poison their minds by calculations of loss and gain. The silence of the former president was already attributed to the intrigues of the planters' committee. No time therefore was to be lost. The letter was accordingly written, but as no answer was ever returned to it, they attributed this second omission to the same cause. I do not really know whether interested persons ever did, as was suspected, intercept the letters of the committee to the two presidents as now surmised; or whether they ever dissuaded them from introducing so important a question for discussion when the nation was in such a heated state; but certain it is that we had many, and I believe barbarous, enemies to encounter. At the very next meeting of the committee, Claviere produced anonymous letters, which he had received, and in which it was stated that, if the society of the Friends of the Negros did not dissolve itself, he and the rest of them would be stabbed. It was said that no less than three hundred persons had associated themselves for this purpose. I had received similar letters myself; and on producing mine, and comparing the hand-writing in both, it appeared that the same persons had written them. In a few days after this the public prints were filled with the most malicious representations of the views of the committee. One of them was, that they were going to send twelve thousand muskets to the Negros in St. Domingo, in order to promote an insurrection there. This declaration was so industriously circulated, that a guard of soldiers was sent to search the committee-room; but these were soon satisfied, when they found only two or three books and some waste paper. Reports equally unfounded and wicked were spread also in the same papers relative to myself. My name was mentioned at full length, and the place of my abode hinted at. It was stated at one time, that I had proposed such wild and mischievous plans to the committee in London relative to the abolition of the Slave-trade, that they had cast me out of their own body, and that I had taken refuge in Paris, where I now tried to impose equally on the French nation. It was stated at another, that I was employed by the British government as a spy, and that it was my object to try to undermine the noble constitution, which was then forming for France. This latter report at this particular time, when the passions of men were so inflamed, and when the stones of Paris had not been long purified from the blood of Foulon and Berthier, might have cost me my life; and I mentioned it to General la Fayette, and solicited his advice. He desired me to make a public reply to it: which I did. He desired me also to change my lodging to the Hotel de York, that I might be nearer to him; and to send to him if there should be any appearance of a collection of people about the hotel, and I should have aid from the military in his quarter. He said also, that he would immediately give in my name to the Municipality; and that he would pledge himself to them, that my views were strictly honourable. On dining one day at the house of the Marquis de la Fayette, I met the deputies of Colour. They had arrived only the preceding day from St. Domingo. I was desired to take my seat at dinner in the midst of them. They were six in number; of a sallow or swarthy complexion, but yet it was not darker than that of some of the natives of the south of France. They were already in the uniform of the Parisian National Guards; and one of them wore the cross of St. Louis. They were men of genteel appearance and modest behaviour. They seemed to be well informed, and of a more solid cast than those, whom I was in the habit of seeing daily in this city. The account which they gave of themselves was this. The White People of St. Domingo, consisting of less than ten thousand persons, had deputies then sitting in the National Assembly. The People of Colour in the same island greatly exceeded the Whites in number. They amounted to thirty thousand, and were generally proprietors of lands. They were equally free by law with the former, and paid their taxes to the mother-country in an equal proportion. But in consequence of having sprung from slaves they had no legislative power, and moreover were treated with great contempt. Believing that the mother-country was going to make a change in its political constitution, they had called a meeting on the island, and this meeting had deputed them to repair to France, and to desire the full rights of citizens, or that the free People of Colour might be put upon an equality with the Whites. They (the deputies) had come in consequence. They had brought with them a present of six millions of livres to the National Assembly, and an appointment to General la Fayette to be commander in chief over their constituents, as a distinct body. This command, they said, the General had accepted, though he had declined similar honours from every town in France, except Paris, in order to show that he patronised their cause. I was now very anxious to know the sentiments which these gentlemen entertained on the subject of the Slave-trade. If they were with us, they might be very useful to us; not only by their votes in the Assembly, but by the knowledge of facts, which they would be able to adduce there in our favour. If they were against us, it became me to be upon my guard against them, and to take measures accordingly. I therefore stated to them at once the nature of my errand to France, and desired their opinion upon it. This they gave me without reserve. They broke out into lavish commendations of my conduct, and called me their friend. The Slave-trade, they said, was the parent of all the miseries in St. Domingo, not only on account of the cruel treatment it occasioned to the slaves, but on account of the discord which it constantly kept up between the Whites and People of Colour, in consequence of the hateful distinctions it introduced. These distinctions could never be obliterated while it lasted. Indeed both the trade and the slavery must fall before the infamy, now fixed upon a skin of colour, could be so done away, that Whites and Blacks could meet cordially, and look with respect upon one another. They had it in their instructions, in case they should obtain a seat in the Assembly, to propose an immediate abolition of the Slave-trade, and an immediate amelioration of the state of slavery also, with a view to its final abolition in fifteen years. But time was flying apace, I had now been nearly seven weeks in Paris; and had done nothing. The thought of this made me uneasy, and I saw no consoling prospect before me. I found it even difficult to obtain a meeting of the Friends of the Negros. The Marquis de la Fayette had no time to attend. Those of the committee, who were members of the National Assembly, were almost constantly engaged at Versailles. Such of them as belonged to the Municipality, had enough to do at the Hotel de Ville. Others were employed either in learning the use of arms, or in keeping their daily and nightly guards. These circumstances made me almost despair of doing any thing for the cause at Paris, at least in any reasonable time. But a new circumstance occurred, which distressed me greatly; for I discovered, in the most satisfactory manner, that two out of the six at the last committee were spies. They had come into the society for no other reason, than to watch and report its motions, and they were in direct correspondence with the slave-merchants at Havre de Grace. This matter I brought home to them afterwards, and I had the pleasure of seeing them excluded from all our future meetings. From this time I thought it expedient to depend less upon the committee and more upon my own exertions, and I formed the resolution of going among the members of the National Assembly myself, and of learning from their own mouths the hope I ought to entertain relative to the decision of our question. In the course of my endeavours I obtained a promise from the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the Comte de Mirabeau, the Abbé Syeyes, Monsieur Bergasse, and Monsieur Petion de Villeneuve, five of the most approved members of the National Assembly, that they would meet me, if I would fix a day. I obtained a similar promise from the Marquis de Condorcet, and Claviere and Brissot, as members selected from the committee of the Friends of the Negros. And Messieurs de Roveray and Du Monde, two Genevese gentlemen at Versailles, men of considerable knowledge and interest, and who had heard of our intended meeting, were to join us at their own request. The place chosen was the house of the Bishop of Chartres at Versailles. I was now in hope that I should soon bring the question to some issue; and on the fourth of October I went to dine with the Bishop of Chartres to fix the day. We appointed the seventh. But how soon, frequently, do our prospects fade! From the conversation which took place at dinner, I began to fear that our meeting would not be realized. About three days before, the officers of the Guard du Corps had given the memorable banquet, recorded in the annals of the revolution, to the officers of the regiment of Flanders which then lay at Versailles. This was a topic, on which the company present dwelt. They condemned it as a most fatal measure in these heated times; and were apprehensive, that something would grow immediately out of it, which might endanger the King's safety. In passing afterwards through the streets of Versailles my fears increased. I met several of that regiment in groups. Some were brandishing their swords. Others were walking arm in arm and singing tumultuously. Others were standing and conversing earnestly together. Among the latter I heard one declare with great vehemence, "that it should not be; that the revolution must go on." On my arrival at Paris in the evening the Palais Royale was full of people, and there were movements and buzzings among them, as if something was expected to happen. The next day, when I went into the streets it was obvious what was going to take place. Suffice it to say, that the next evening the King and Queen were brought prisoners into Paris. After this, things were in such an unsettled state for a few days, and the members of the National Assembly were so occupied in the consideration of the event itself, and of the consequences which might attend it, that my little meeting, of which it had cost me so much time and trouble to procure the appointment, was entirely prevented. I had now to wait patiently till a new opportunity should occur. The Comte de Mirabeau, before the departure of the King, had moved and carried the resolution that "the Assembly was inseparable from his majesty's person." It was expected, therefore, that the National Assembly would immediately transfer its sittings to Paris. This took place on the nineteenth. It was now more easy for me to bring persons together, than when I had to travel backward and forward to Versailles. Accordingly, by watching my opportunities, I obtained the promise of another meeting. This was held afterward at the Duke de la Rochefoucauld's. The persons before mentioned were present; except the Comte de Mirabeau, whose occupations at that moment made it utterly impossible for him to attend. The Duke opened the business in an appropriate manner; and concluded, by desiring each person to give his opinion frankly and unequivocally as to what might be expected of the National Assembly relative to the great measure of the abolition of the Slave-trade. The Abbé Syeyes rose up, and said, it would probably bring the business within a shorter compass, if, instead of discussing this proposition at large, I were to put to the meeting my own questions. I accordingly accepted this offer; and began by asking those present, "how long it was likely that the present National Assembly would sit." After some conversation it was replied, that, "it would sit till it had completed the constitution, and interwoven such fixed principles into it, that the legislature, which should succeed it, might have nothing more to do, than to proceed on the ordinary business of the state. Its dissolution would probably not take place till the month of March." I then asked them, "whether it was their opinion, that the National Assembly would feel itself authorized to take up such a foreign question (if I might be allowed the expression) as that of the abolition of the Slave-trade." The answer to this was, "that the object of the National Assembly was undoubtedly the formation of a constitution for the French people. With respect to foreign possessions, it was very doubtful, whether it were the real interest of France to have any colonies at all. But while it kept such colonies under its dominion, the Assembly would feel, that it had the right to take up this question; and that the question itself would naturally spring out of the bill of rights, which had already been adopted as the basis of the constitution." The next question I proposed was, "whether they were of opinion, that the National Assembly would do more wisely, in the present situation of things, to determine upon the abolition of the Slave-trade now, or to transfer it to the legislature, which was to succeed it in the month of March." This question gave birth to a long discussion; during which much eloquence was displayed. But the unanimous answer, with the reasons for it, may be conveyed in substance as follows. "It would be most wise, it was said, in the present Assembly to introduce the question to the notice of the nation, and this as essentially connected with the bill of rights, but to transfer the determination of it, in a way the best calculated to ensure success, to the succeeding legislature. The revolution was of more importance to Frenchmen, than the abolition of the Slave-trade. To secure this was their first object, and more particularly, because the other would naturally flow from it. But the revolution might be injured by the immediate determination of the question. Many persons in the large towns of Bourdeaux, Marseilles, Rouen, Nantes, and Havre, who were now friends to it, might be converted into enemies. It would also be held up by those, who wished to produce a counter-revolution, (and the ignorant and prejudiced might believe it,) that the Assembly had made a great sacrifice to England, by thus giving her an opportunity of enlarging her trade. The English House of Commons had taken up the subject, but had done nothing. And though they, who were then present, were convinced of the sincerity of the English minister, who had introduced it; and that the trade must ultimately fall in England, yet it would not be easy to persuade many bigoted persons in France of these truths. It would therefore be most wise in the Assembly only to introduce the subject as mentioned; but if extraordinary circumstances should arise, such as a decree, that the deputies of Colour should take their seats in the Assembly, or that England should have begun this great work, advantage might be taken of them, and the abolition of the Slave-trade might be resolved upon in the present session." The last question I proposed was this. "If the determination of this great question should be proposed to the next legislature, would it be more difficult to carry it then than now." This question also produced much conversation. But the answer was unanimous, "that there would be no greater difficulty in the one than in the other case; for that the people would daily, more and more admire their constitution; that this constitution would go down to the next legislature, from whence would issue solid and fixed principles, which would be resorted to as a standard for decision on all occasions. Hence the Slave-trade, which would be adjudged by it also, could not possibly stand. Add to which, that the most virtuous members in the present would be chosen into the new legislature, which, if the constitution were but once fairly established, would not regard the murmurs of any town or province." After this, a desultory conversation took place, in which some were of opinion that it would be proper, on the introduction of the subject into the Assembly, to move for a committee of inquiry, which should collect facts and documents against the time, when it should be taken up with a view to its final discussion. As it now appeared to me, that nothing material would be done with respect to our cause till after the election of the new legislature, I had thoughts of returning to England to resume my journey in quest of evidence; but I judged it right to communicate first with the Comte de Mirabeau and the Marquis de la Fayette, both of whom would have attended the meeting just mentioned, if unforeseen circumstances had not prevented them. On conversing with the first, I found that he differed from those, whom I had consulted. He thought that the question, on account of the nature and urgency of it, ought to be decided in the present legislature. This was so much his opinion, that he had made a determination to introduce it there himself; and had been preparing for his motion. He had already drawn up the outlines of a speech for the purpose; but was in want of circumstantial knowledge to complete it. With this knowledge he desired me to furnish him. He then put his speech into my hand; and wished me to take it home and peruse it. He wrote down also some questions, and he gave them to me directly afterwards, and begged I would answer them at my leisure. On conversing with the latter, he said, that he believed with those at the meeting, that there would be no greater difficulty in carrying the question in the succeeding than in the present legislature. But this consideration afforded an argument for the immediate discussion of it: for it would make a considerable difference to suffering humanity, whether it were to be decided now or then. This was the moment to be taken to introduce it; nor did he think that they ought to be deterred from doing it, by any supposed clamours from some of the towns in France. The great body of the people admired the constitution; and would support any decisions, which were made in strict conformity to its principles. With respect to any committee of inquiry, he deprecated it. The Slave-trade, he said, was not a trade. It dishonoured the name of commerce. It was piracy. But if so, the question, which it involved, was a question of justice only; and it could not be decided with propriety by any other standard. I then informed him, that the Comte de Mirabeau had undertaken to introduce it into the Assembly. At this he expressed his uneasiness. "Mirabeau," says he, "is a host in himself; and I should not be surprised if by his own eloquence and popularity only he were to carry it; and yet I regret that he has taken the lead in it. The cause is so lovely, that even ambition, abstractedly considered, is too impure to take it under its protection, and not to sully it. It should have been placed in the hands of the most virtuous man in France. This man is the Duc de la Rochefoucauld. But you cannot alter things now. You cannot take it out of his hands. I am sure he will be second to no one on this occasion." On my return to my hotel, I perused the outlines of the speech, which the Comte de Mirabeau had lent me. It afforded a masterly knowledge of the evils of the trade, as drawn from reason only. It was put together in the most striking and affecting manner. It contained an almost irresistible appeal to his auditors by frequent references to the ancient system of things in France, and to their situation and prospects under the new. It flowed at first gently like a river in a level country; but it grew afterwards into a mountain torrent, and carried every thing before it. On looking at the questions, which he had written down for me, I found them consist of three. 1. What are the different ways of reducing to slavery the inhabitants of that part of Africa, which is under the dominion of France? 2. What is the state of society there with respect to government, industry, and the arts? 3. What are the various evils belonging to the transportation of the Africans from their own country? It was peculiarly agreeable to me to find, on reading the first two questions, that I had formed an acquaintance with Monsieur Geoffroy de Villeneuve, who had been aide du camp to the Chevalier de Boufflers at Goree; but who was then at his father's house in Paris. This gentleman had entertained Dr. Spaarman and Mr. Wadstrom; and had accompanied them up the Senegal, when under the protection of the French government in Africa. He had confirmed to me the testimony, which they had given before the privy council. But he had a fund of information on this subject, which went far beyond what these possessed, or I had ever yet collected from books or men. He had travelled all over the kingdom of Cayor on foot; and had made a map of it. His information was so important, that I had been with him for almost days together to take it down. I determined therefore to arrange the facts, which I had obtained from him, of which I had now a volume, that I might answer the two first questions, which had been proposed to me; for it was of great importance to the Comte de Mirabeau, that he should be able to appeal, in behalf of the statements in his speech to the Assembly, to an evidence on the spot. In the course of my correspondence with the Comte, which continued with but little intermission for six weeks, many circumstances took place, which were connected with the cause, and which I shall now detail in their order. On waiting upon Mr. Necker, at his own request, he gave me the pleasing intelligence, that the committee of finances, which was then composed of members of the National Assembly, had resolved, though they had not yet promulgated their resolution, upon a total abolition of all the bounties then in existence in favour of the Slave-trade. The Deputies of Colour now began to visit me at my own hotel. They informed me, that they had been admitted, since they had seen me, into the National Assembly. On stating their claims, the president assured them, that they might take courage; for that the Assembly knew no distinction between Blacks and Whites, but considered all men as having equal rights. This speech of the president, they said, had roused all the White Colonists in Paris. Some of these had openly insulted them. They had held also a meeting on the subject of this speech; at which they had worked themselves up so as to become quite furious. Nothing but intrigue was now going forward among them to put off the consideration of the claims of the free People of Colour. They, the deputies, had been flattered by the prospect of a hearing no less than six times; and, when the day arrived, something had constantly occurred to prevent it. At a subsequent interview, they appeared to be quite disheartened; and to be grievously disappointed as to the object of their mission. They were now sure, that they should never be able to make head against the intrigues and plots of the White Colonists. Day after day had been fixed as before for the hearing of their cause. Day after day it had been deferred in like manner. They were now weary with waiting. One of them, Ogé, could not contain himself, but broke out with great warmth--"I begin," says he, "not to care, whether the National Assembly will admit us or not. But let it beware of the consequences. We will no longer continue to be beheld in a degraded light. Dispatches shall go directly to St. Domingo; and we will soon follow them. We can produce as good soldiers on our estates, as those in France. Our own arms shall make us independent and respectable. If we are once forced to desperate measures, it will be in vain that thousands will be sent across the Atlantic to bring us back to our former state." On hearing this, I entreated the deputies to wait with patience. I observed to them, that in a great revolution, like that of France, things, but more particularly such as might be thought external, could not be discussed either so soon or so rapidly as men full of enthusiasm would wish. France would first take care of herself. She would then, I had no doubt, extend her care to her Colonies. Was not this a reasonable conclusion, when they, the deputies, had almost all the first men in the Assembly in their favour? I entreated them therefore to wait patiently; as well as upon another consideration, which was, that by an imprudent conduct they might not only ruin their own cause in France, but bring indescribable misery upon their native land. By this time a large packet, for which I had sent from England, arrived. It consisted of above a thousand of the plan and section of a slave-ship, with an explanation in French. It contained also about five hundred coloured engravings, made from two views, which Mr. Wadstrom had taken in Africa. The first of these represented the town of Joal, and the King's military on horseback returning to it, after having executed the great pillage, with their slaves. The other represented the village of Bain; from whence ruffians were forcing a poor woman and her children to sell them to a ship, which was then lying in the Roads. Both these scenes Mr. Wadstrom had witnessed. I had collected also by this time, one thousand of my Essays on the Impolicy of the Slave-trade, which had been translated into the French language. These I now wished to distribute, as preparatory to the motion of Mirabeau, among the National Assembly. This distribution was afterwards undertaken and effected by the Archbishop of Aix, the Bishop of Chartres, the Marquis de la Fayette, the Duc de la Rochefoucauld, the Comte de Mirabeau, Monsieur Necker, the Marquis de Condorcet, Messieurs Petion de Villeneuve, Bergasse, Claviere and Brissot, and by the Marchioness de la Fayette, Madame Necker, and Madame de Poivre, the latter of whom was the widow of the late Intendant of the Isle of France. This distribution had not been long begun, before I witnessed its effects. The virtuous Abbé Gregoire, and several members of the National Assembly, called upon me. The section of the slave-ship, it appeared, had been the means of drawing them towards me. They wished for more accurate information concerning it. Indeed it made its impression upon all who saw it. The Bishop of Chartres once told me, that, when he first espoused our cause, he did it at once; for it seemed obvious to him that no one could, under the Christian dispensation, hold another as his slave; and it was no less obvious where such an unnatural state existed, that there would be great abuses; but that, nevertheless, he had not given credit to all the tales which had been related of the Slave-trade, till he had seen this plate; after which there was nothing so barbarous which might not readily be believed. The Archbishop of Aix, when I first showed him the same plate, was so struck with horror, that he could scarcely speak: and when Mirabeau first saw it, he was so impressed by it, that he ordered a mechanic to make a model of it in wood, at a considerable expense. This model he kept afterwards in his dining-room. It was a ship in miniature, about a yard long, and little wooden men and women, which were painted black to represent the slaves, were seen stowed in their proper places. But while the distribution of these different articles thus contributed to make us many friends, it called forth the extraordinary exertions of our enemies. The merchants and others interested in the continuance of the Slave-trade wrote letters to the Archbishop of Aix, beseeching him not to ruin France; which he would inevitably do, if, as then president, he were to grant a day for hearing the question of the abolition. Offers of money were made to Mirabeau from the same quarter, if he would totally abandon his motion. An attempt was made to establish a colonial committee, consisting of such planters as were members of the National Assembly; upon whom it should devolve to consider and report upon all matters relating to the Colonies, before they could be determined there. Books were circulated in abundance in opposition to mine. Resort was again had to the public papers, as the means of raising a hue and cry against the principles of the Friends of the Negros. I was again denounced as a spy; and as one sent by the English minister to bribe members in the Assembly to do that in a time of public agitation, which in the settled state of France they could never have been prevailed upon to accomplish. And as a proof that this was my errand, it was requested of every Frenchman to put to himself the following question, "How it happened that England, which had considered the subject coolly and deliberately for eighteen months, and this in a state of internal peace and quietness, had not abolished the Slave-trade?" The clamour which was now made against the abolition, pervaded all Paris, and reached the ears of the King. Mr. Necker had a long conversation with him upon it. The latter sent for me immediately. He informed me, that His Majesty was desirous of making himself master of the question, and had expressed a wish to see my Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave-trade. He desired to have two copies of it; one in French, and the other in English; and he would then take his choice as to which of them he would read. He (Mr. Necker) was to present them. He would take with him also at the same time the beautiful specimens of the manufactures of the Africans, which I had lent to Madame Necker out of the cabinet of Monsieur Geoffrey de Villeneuve and others. As to the section of the slave-ship, he thought it would affect His Majesty too much, as he was then indisposed. All these articles, except the latter, were at length presented. The King bestowed a good deal of time upon the specimens. He admired them; but particularly those in gold. He expressed his surprise at the state of some of the arts in Africa. He sent them back on the same day on which he had examined them, and commissioned Mr. Necker to return me his thanks; and to say that he had been highly gratified with what he had seen; and, with respect to the Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave-trade, that he would read it with all the seriousness, which such a subject deserved. My correspondence with the Comte de Mirabeau was now drawing near to its close. I had sent him a letter every other day for a whole month, which contained from sixteen to twenty pages. He usually acknowledged the receipt of each. Hence many of his letters came into my possession. These were always interesting, on account of the richness of the expressions they contained. Mirabeau even in his ordinary discourse was eloquent. It was his peculiar talent to use such words, that they who heard them, were almost led to believe, that he had taken great pains to cull them for the occasion. But this his ordinary language was the language also of his letters; and as they show a power of expression, by which the reader may judge of the character of the eloquence of one, who was then undoubtedly the greatest orator in France, I have thought it not improper to submit one of them to his perusal in the annexed note[A]. I could have wished, as far as it relates to myself, that it had been less complimentary. It must be observed, however, that I had already written to him more than two hundred pages with my own hand; and as this was done at no small expense, time and trouble, and solely to qualify him for the office of doing good, he could not but set some value upon my labours. [Footnote A: "Je fais toujours mille remercimens plus empressés et plus affectueux à Monsieur Clarkson pour la vertueuse profusion de ses lumieres, de ses reserches, et de ses travaux. Comme ma motion et tous ses developpemens sont entierement prêts, j'attends avec une vive impatience ses nouvelles lettres, afin d'achever de classer les faits et les raisonnemens de Monsieur Clarkson, et, cette deduction entierement finie, de commencer à manoeuvrer en tactique le succès douteux de cette perilleuse proposition. J'aurai l'honneur de le recevoir Dimanche depuis onze heures, et même dix du matin jusqu'à midi, non seulement avec un vif plaisir, mais avec une sensible reconnoissance. _25 Decembre, 1789_. LE COMTE DE MIRABEAU."] When our correspondence was over, I had some conversation with him relative to fixing a day for the motion. But he judged it prudent, previously to this, to sound some of the members of the Assembly on the subject of it. This he did; but he was greatly disappointed at the result. There was not one member, out of all those, with whom he conversed, who had not been canvassed by the planters' committee. And though most of them had been proof against all its intrigues and artifices, yet many of them hesitated respecting the abolition at that moment. There was a fear in some that they should injure the revolution by adopting it; others, who had no such fears, wished for the concurrence of England in the measure, and suggested the propriety of a deputation there for that purpose previously to the discussion of the question in France. While others maintained, that as England had done nothing, after having had it so long under consideration, it was fair to presume, that she judged it impolitic to abandon the Slave-trade; but if France were to give it up, and England to continue it, how would humanity be the gainer? While the Comte de Mirabeau was continuing his canvass among the members of the National Assembly, relative to his motion, attempts were again made in the public papers to mislead them. Emancipation was now stated to be the object of the Friends of the Negros. This charge I repelled, by addressing myself to Monsieur Beauvet. I explained to him the views of the different societies, which had taken up the cause of the Africans; and I desired him to show my letter to the planters. I was obliged also to answer publicly a letter by Monsieur Mosneron de Laung. This writer professed to detail the substance of the privy council report. He had the injustice to assert, that three things had been distinctly proved there: First, that slavery had always existed in Africa; Secondly, that the natives were a bloody people, addicted to human sacrifice, and other barbarous customs; and, Thirdly, that their soil was incapable of producing any proper articles for commerce. From these premises he argued, as if they had been established by the unanimous and uncontradicted testimony of the witnesses; and he drew the conclusion, that not only had England done nothing in consequence, but that she never would do anything, which should affect the existence of this trade. But these letters had only just made their appearance in the public papers, when I was summoned to England. Parliament, it appeared, had met; and I was immediately to leave Paris. Among those, of whom I had but just time to take leave, were the Deputies of Colour. At this, my last conference with them, I recommended moderation and forbearance, as the best gifts I could leave them; and I entreated them rather to give up their seats in the Assembly, than on that account to bring misery on their country; for that with patience their cause would ultimately triumph. They replied, that I had prescribed to them a most difficult task. They were afraid that neither the conduct of the White Colonists nor of the National Assembly could be much longer borne. They thanked me, however, for my advice. One of them gave me a trinket, by which I might remember him; and as for himself, he said, he should never forget one, who had taken such a deep interest in the welfare of his mother[A]. I found, however, notwithstanding all I said, that there was a spirit of dissatisfaction in them, which nothing but a redress of their grievances could subdue; and that, if the planters should persevere in their intrigues, and the National Assembly in delay, a fire would be lighted up in St. Domingo, which could not easily be extinguished. This was afterward realized: for Ogé, in about three months from this time, left his companions to report to his constituents in St. Domingo the state of their mission; when hearing, on his arrival in that island, of the outrageous conduct of the Whites of the committee of Aquin, who had begun a persecution of the People of Colour for no other reason than that they had dared to seek the common privileges of citizens; and of the murder of Ferrand and Labadie, he imprudently armed his slaves. With a small but faithful band he rushed upon superior numbers; and was defeated. Taking refuge at length in the Spanish part of St. Domingo, he was given up; and his enemies, to strike terror into the People of Colour, broke him upon the wheel. From this time reconciliation between the parties became impossible. A bloody war commenced, and with it all those horrors which it has been our lot so frequently to deplore. It must be remembered, however, that the Slave-trade, by means of the cruel distinctions it occasioned, was the original cause; and though the revolution of France afforded the occasion; it was an occasion which would have been prevented, if it had not been for the intrigues and injustice of the Whites. [Footnote A: Africa.] Another, upon whom I had time to call, was the amiable Bishop of Chartres. When I left him, the Abbé Syeyes, who was with him, desired to walk with me to my hotel. He there presented me with a set of his works, which he sent for, while he staid with me; and on parting, he made use of this complimentary expression, in allusion, I suppose, to the cause I had undertaken,--"I am pleased to have been acquainted with the friend of man." It was necessary that I should see the Comte de Mirabeau and the Marquis de la Fayette, before I left Paris. I had written to each of them to communicate the intelligence of my departure, as soon as I received it. The Comte, it appeared, had nearly canvassed the Assembly. He could count upon three hundred members, who, for the sake of justice, and without any consideration of policy or of consequences, would support his motion. But alas! what proportion did this number bear to twelve hundred? About five hundred more would support him; but only on one condition; which was, if England would give an unequivocal proof of her intention to abolish the trade. The knowledge of these circumstances, he said, had induced him to write a letter to Mr. Pitt. In this he had explained, how far he could proceed without his assistance, and how far with it. He had frankly developed to him the mind and temper of the Assembly on this subject; but his answer must be immediate: for the White Colonists were daily gaining such an influence there, that he foresaw it would be impossible to carry the measure, if it were long delayed. On taking leave of him he desired me to be the bearer of the letter, and to present it to Mr. Pitt. On conversing with the Marquis de la Fayette, he lamented deeply the unexpected turn, which the cause of the Negros had lately taken in the Assembly. It was entirely owing to the daily intrigues of the White Colonists. He feared they would ruin every thing. If the Deputies of Colour had been heard on their arrival, their rights would have been acknowledged. But now there was little probability that they would obtain them. He foresaw nothing but desolation in St. Domingo. With respect to the abolition of the Slave-trade, it might be yet carried; but not unless England would concur in the measure. On this topic he enlarged with much feeling. He hoped the day was near at hand, when two great nations, which had been hitherto distinguished only for their hostility, one toward the other, would unite in so sublime a measure; and that they would follow up their union by another, still more lovely, for the preservation of eternal and universal peace. Thus their future rivalships might have the extraordinary merit of being rivalships in good. Thus the revolution of France, through the mighty aid of England, might become the source of civilization, of freedom, and of happiness to the whole world. No other nations were sufficiently enlightened for such an union, but all other nations might be benefited by it. The last person whom I saw, was Brissot. He accompanied me to my carriage. With him therefore I shall end my French account; and I shall end it in no way so satisfactory to myself, as in a very concise vindication of his character, from actual knowledge, against the attacks of those who have endeavoured to disparage it; but who never knew him. Justice and truth, I am convinced, demand some little declaration on this subject at my hands. Brissot then was a man of plain and modest appearance. His habits, contrary to those of his countrymen in general, were domestic. In his own family he set an amiable example, both as a husband and as a father. On all occasions he was a faithful friend. He was particularly watchful over his private conduct. From the simplicity of his appearance, and the severity of his morals, he was called The Quaker; at least in all the circles which I frequented. He was a man of deep feeling. He was charitable to the poor as far as a slender income permitted him. But his benevolence went beyond the usual bounds. He was no patriot in the ordinary acceptation of the word; for he took the habitable globe as his country, and wished to consider every foreigner as his brother. I left France, as it maybe easily imagined, much disappointed, that my labours, which had been of nearly six months continuance, should have had no better success; nor did I see, in looking forward, any circumstances that were consoling with respect to the issue of them there; for it was impossible that Mr. Pitt, even if he had been inclined to write to Mirabeau, circumstanced as matters then were with respect to the hearing of evidence, could have given him a promise, at least of a speedy abolition; and, unless his answer had been immediate, it would have arrived, seeing that the French planters were daily profiting by their intrigues, too late to be effectual. I had but just arrived in England, when Mr. Wilberforce made a new motion in the House of Commons on the subject of the, Slave-trade. In referring to the transactions of the last sessions, he found that twenty-eight days had been allotted to the hearing of witnesses against the abolition, and that eleven persons only had been examined in that time. If the examinations were to go on in the same manner, they might be made to last for years. He resolved therefore to move, that, instead of hearing evidence in future in the house at large, members should hear it in an open committee above stairs; which committee should sit notwithstanding any adjournment of the house itself. This motion he made; and in doing it he took an opportunity of correcting an erroneous report; which was, that he had changed his mind on this great subject. This was, he said, so far from being the case, that the more he contemplated the trade, the more enormous he found it, and the more he felt himself compelled to persevere in endeavours for its abolition. One would have thought that a motion, so reasonable and so constitutional, would have met with the approbation of all; but it was vehemently opposed by Mr. Gascoyne, Alderman Newnham, and others. The plea set up was, that there was no precedent for referring a question of such importance to a committee. It was now obvious, that the real object of our opponents in abandoning decision by the privy council evidence was delay. Unable to meet us there, they were glad to fly to any measure, which should enable them to put off the evil day. This charge was fixed upon them in unequivocal language by Mr. Fox; who observed besides, that if the members of the house should then resolve to hear evidence in a committee of the whole house as before, it would amount to a resolution, that the question of the abolition of the Slave-trade should be put by, or at least that it should never be decided by them. After a long debate, the motion of Mr. Wilberforce was voted without a division; and the examination of witnesses proceeded in behalf of those who were interested in the continuance of the trade. This measure having been resolved upon, by which dispatch in the examinations was promoted, I was alarmed lest we should be called upon for our own evidence, before we were fully prepared. The time which I had originally allotted for the discovery of new witnesses, had been taken up, if not wasted, in France. In looking over the names of the sixteen, who were to have been examined by the committee of privy council, if there had been time, one had died, and eight, who were sea-faring people, were out of the kingdom. It was time therefore to stir immediately in this business. Happily, on looking over my letters, which I found on my arrival in England, the names of several had been handed to me, with the places of their abode, who could give me information on the subject of our question. All these I visited with the utmost dispatch. I was absent only three weeks. I had travelled a thousand miles in this time, had conversed with seventeen persons, and had prevailed upon three to be examined. I had scarcely returned with the addition of these witnesses to my list, when I found it necessary to go out again upon the same errand. This second journey arose in part from the following circumstances. There was a matter in dispute relative to the mode of obtaining slaves in the rivers of Calabàr and Bonny. It was usual, when the slave-ships lay there, for a number of canoes to go into the inland country. These went in a fleet. There might be from thirty to forty armed natives in each of them. Every canoe also had a four- or a six-pounder (cannon) fastened to her bow. Equipped in this manner they departed; and they were usually absent from eight to fourteen days. It was said that they went to fairs, which were held on the banks of these rivers, and at which there was a regular show of slaves. On their return they usually brought down from eight hundred to a thousand of these for the ships. These lay at the bottom of the canoes; their arms and legs having been first bound by the ropes of the country. Now the question was, how the people, thus going up these rivers, obtained their slaves? It was certainly a very suspicious circumstance, that such a number of persons should go out upon these occasions; and that they should be armed in such a manner. We presumed therefore, that, though they might buy many of the slaves, whom they brought down, at the fairs, which have been mentioned, they obtained others by violence, as opportunity offered. This inference we pressed upon our opponents; and called upon them to show what circumstances made such warlike preparations necessary on these excursions. To this they replied readily. The people in the canoes, said they, pass through the territories of different petty princes; to each of whom, on entering his territory, they pay a tribute or toll. This tribute has been long fixed; but attempts frequently have been made to raise it. They who follow the trade cannot afford to submit to these unreasonable demands; and therefore they arm themselves in case of any determination on the part of these petty princes to enforce them. This answer we never judged to be satisfactory. We tried therefore to throw light upon the subject, by inquiring if the natives, who went up on these expeditions, usually took with them as many goods, as would amount to the number of the slaves they were accustomed to bring back with them. But we could get no direct answer, from any actual knowledge, to this question. All had seen the canoes go out and return; but no one had seen them loaded, or had been on board them. It appeared, however, from circumstantial evidence, that, though the natives on these occasions might take some articles of trade with them, it was impossible from appearances, that they could take them in the proportion mentioned. We maintained then our inference as before; but it was still uniformly denied. How then were we to decide this important question? for it was said, that no white man was ever permitted by the natives to go up in these canoes. On mentioning accidentally the circumstances of the case, as I have now stated them, to a friend, immediately on my return from my last journey, he informed me, that he himself had been in company, about a year before, with a sailor, a very respectable-looking man, who had been up these rivers. He had spent half an hour with him at an inn. He described his person to me. But he knew nothing of his name, or of the place of his abode. All he knew was, that he was either going, or that he belonged to, some ship of war in ordinary; but he could not tell at what port. I might depend upon all these circumstances, if the man had not deceived him; and he saw no reason why he should. I felt myself set on fire, as it were, by this intelligence, deficient as it was; and I seemed to determine instantly that I would, if it were possible, find him out. For if our suspicions were true, that the natives frequently were kidnapped in these expeditions, it would be of great importance to the cause of the abolition to have them confirmed; for as many slaves came annually from these two rivers, as from all the coast of Africa besides. But how to proceed on so blind an errand was the question. I first thought of trying to trace the man by letter. But this might be tedious. The examinations were now going on rapidly. We should soon be called upon for evidence ourselves. Besides, I knew nothing of his name. I then thought it to be a more effectual way to apply to Sir Charles Middleton, as comptroller of the navy, by whose permission I could board every ship of war in ordinary in England, and judge for myself. But here the undertaking seemed very arduous; and the time it would consume became an objection in this respect, that I thought I could not easily forgive myself, if I were to fail in it. My inclination, however, preponderated this way. At length I determined to follow it; for, on deliberate consideration, I found that I could not employ my time more advantageously to the cause; for as other witnesses must be found out somewhere, it was highly probable that, if I should fail in the discovery of this man, I should, by moving among such a number of sea-faring people, find others, who could give their testimony in our favour. I must now inform the reader, that ships of war in ordinary, in one of which this man was reported to be, are those, which are out of commission, and which are laid up in the different rivers and waters in the neighbourhood of the King's dock-yards. Every one of these has a boatswain, gunner, carpenter, and assistants on board. They lie usually in divisions of ten or twelve; and a master in the navy has a command over every division. At length I began my journey. I boarded all the ships of war lying in ordinary at Deptford, and examined the different persons in each. From Deptford I proceeded to Woolwich, where I did the same. Thence I hastened to Chatham, and then, down the Medway, to Sheerness. I had now boarded above a hundred and sixty vessels of war. I had found out two good and willing evidences among them. But I could gain no intelligence of him, who was the object of my search. From Chatham, I made the best of my way to Portsmouth-harbour. A very formidable task presented itself here. But the masters' boats were ready for me; and I continued my pursuit. On boarding the Pegase, on the second day, I discovered a very respectable person in the gunner of that ship. His name was George Millar. He had been on board the Canterbury slave-ship at the dreadful massacre at Calabàr. He was the only disinterested evidence living, of whom I had yet heard. He expressed his willingness to give his testimony, if his presence should be thought necessary in London. I then continued my pursuit for the remainder of the day. On the next day, I resumed and finished it for this quarter. I had now examined the different persons in more than a hundred vessels in this harbour, but I had not discovered the person I had gone to seek. Matters now began to look rather disheartening, I mean, as far as my grand object was concerned. There was but one other port left, and this was between two and three hundred miles distant. I determined however to go to Plymouth. I had already been more successful in this tour, with respect to obtaining general evidence, than in any other of the same length; and the probability was, that, as I should continue to move among the same kind of people, my success would be in a similar proportion according to the number visited. These were great encouragements to me to proceed. At length, I arrived at the place of my last hope. On my first day's expedition I boarded forty vessels, but found no one in these, who had been on the coast of Africa in the Slave-trade. One or two had been there in King's ships; but they had never been on shore. Things were now drawing near to a close; and, notwithstanding my success as to general evidence in this journey, my heart began to beat. I was restless and uneasy during the night. The next morning, I felt agitated again between the alternate pressure of hope and fear; and in this state I entered my boat. The fifty-seventh vessel, which I boarded in this harbour, was the Melampus frigate. One person belonging to it, on examining him in the captain's cabin, said he had been two voyages to Africa; and I had not long discoursed with him, before I found, to my inexpressible joy, that he was the man. I found too, that he unravelled the question in dispute precisely as our inferences had determined it. He had been two expeditions up the river Calabàr in the canoes of the natives. In the first of these, they came within a certain distance of a village. They then concealed themselves under the bushes, which hung over the water from the banks. In this position they remained during day-light. But at night they went up to it armed; and seized all the inhabitants, who had not time to make their escape. They obtained forty-five persons in this manner. In the second they were out eight or nine days; when they made a similar attempt, and with nearly similar success. They seized men, women, and children, as they could find them in the huts. They then bound their arms, and drove them before them to the canoes. The name of the person, thus discovered on board the Melampus, was Isaac Parker. On inquiring into his character from the master of the division, I found it highly respectable. I found also afterwards, that he had sailed with Captain Cook, with great credit to himself, round the world. It was also remarkable that my brother, on seeing him in London, when he went to deliver his evidence, recognised him as having served on board the Monarch man-of-war, and as one of the most exemplary men in that ship. I returned now in triumph. I had been out only three weeks, and I had found out this extraordinary person, and five respectable witnesses besides. These, added to the three discovered in the last journey, and to those provided before, made us more formidable than at any former period; so that the delay of our opponents, which we had looked upon as so great an evil, proved in the end truly serviceable to our cause. On going into the committee-room of the House of Commons on my return, I found that the examinations were still going on in the behalf of those, who were interested in the continuance of the trade; and they went on beyond the middle of April, when it was considered that they had closed. Mr. Wilberforce moved accordingly on the twenty-third of the same month, that Captain Thomas Wilson, of the royal navy, and that Charles Berns Wadstrom and Henry Hew Dalrymple, esquires, do attend as witnesses on the behalf of the abolition. There was nothing now but clamour from those on the opposite side of the question. They knew well, that there were but few members of the House of Commons, who had read the privy council report. They knew therefore, that, if the question were to be decided by evidence, it must be decided by that, which their own witnesses had given before parliament. But this was the evidence only on one side. It was certain therefore, if the decision were to be made upon this basis, that it must be entirely in their favour. Will it then be believed that in an English House of Commons there could be found persons, who could move to prevent the hearing of any other witnesses on this subject; and, what is more remarkable, that they should charge Mr. Wilberforce, because he proposed the hearing of them, with the intention solely of delay? Yes. Such persons were found, but, happily, only among the friends of the Slave-trade. Mr. Wilberforce, in replying to them, could not help observing, that it was rather extraordinary that they, who had occasioned the delay of a whole year, should charge him with that, of which they themselves had been so conspicuously guilty. He then commented for some time on the injustice of their motion. He stated too, that he would undertake to remove from disinterested and unprejudiced persons many of the impressions, which had been made by the witnesses against the abolition; and he appealed to the justice and honour of the house in behalf of an injured people; under the hope, that they would not allow a decision to be made till they had heard the whole of the case. These observations, however, did not satisfy all those, who belonged to the opposite party. Lord Penrhyn contended for a decision without a moment's delay. Mr. Gascoyne relented; and said, he would allow three weeks to the abolitionists, during which their evidence, might be heard. At length the debate ended; in the course of which, Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox powerfully supported Mr. Wilberforce; when the motion was negatived without any attempt at a division. The witnesses in behalf of the abolition of the Slave-trade now took possession of the ground, which those in favour of it had left. But what was our surprise, when only three of them had been heard, to find that Mr. Norris should come forward as an evidence! This he did to confirm what he had stated to the privy council as to the general question; but he did it more particularly, as it appeared afterwards, in the justification of his own conduct: for the part, which he had taken at Liverpool, as it related to me, had become a subject of conversation with many. It was now well known, what assistance he had given me there in my pursuit; how he had even furnished me with clauses for a bill for the abolition of the trade; how I had written to him, in consequence of his friendly cooperation, to come up as an evidence in our favour; and how at that moment he had accepted the office of a delegate on the contrary side. The noise, which the relation and repetition of these and other circumstances had made, had given him, I believe, considerable pain. His friends too had urged some explanation as necessary. But how short-sighted are they who do wrong! By coming forward in this imprudent manner, he fixed the stain only the more indelibly on himself; for he thus imposed upon me the cruel necessity of being examined against him; and this necessity was the more afflicting to me, because I was to be called upon, not to state facts relative to the trade, but to destroy his character as an evidence in its support. I was to be called upon, in fact, to explain all those communications, which have been stated to have taken place between us on this subject. Glad indeed should I have been to have declined this painful interference. But no one would hear of a refusal. The Bishop of London, Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Wilberforce, considered my appearance on this occasion as an imperious duty to the cause of the oppressed. It may be perhaps sufficient to say, that I was examined; that Mr. Norris. was present all the time; that I was cross-examined by counsel; and that after this time, Mr. Norris seemed to have no ordinary sense of his own degradation; for he never afterwards held up his head, or looked the abolitionists in the face, or acted with energy as a delegate, as on former occasions. The hearing of evidence continued to go on in behalf of the abolition of the trade. No less than twenty-four witnesses, altogether, were heard in this session. And here it may not be improper to remark, that, during the examination of our own witnesses as well as the cross-examination of those of our opponents, no counsel were ever employed. Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. William Smith undertook this laborious department; and as they performed it with great ability, so they did it with great liberality towards those, who were obliged to come under their notice in the course of this fiery ordeal. The bill of Sir William Dolben was now to be renewed. On this occasion the enemies of the abolition became again conspicuous; for on the twenty-sixth of May, they availed themselves of a thin house to propose an amendment, by which they increased the number of the slaves to the tonnage of the vessel. They increased it too, without taking into the account, as had hitherto been done, the extent of the superficies of the vessels, which were to carry them. This was the third indecorous attempt against what were only reasonable and expected proceedings in the present session. But their advantage was of no great duration; for, the very next day, the amendment was rejected on the report by a majority of ninety-five to sixty-nine, in consequence, principally, of the private exertions of Mr. Pitt. Of this bill, though it was renewed in other years besides the present, I shall say no more in this History; because it has nothing to do with the general question. Horrible as it yet left the situation of the poor slaves in their transportation, (which the plate has most abundantly shown) it was the best bill, which could be then obtained; and it answered to a certain degree the benevolent wishes of the worthy baronet, who introduced it: for if we could conclude that these voyages were made more comfortable to the injured Africans, in proportion as there was less mortality in them, he had undoubtedly the pleasure of seeing the end, at least partially, obtained; though he must always have felt a great drawback from it, by reflecting that the survivors, however their sufferings might have been a little diminished, were reserved for slavery. The session was now near its close; and we had the sorrow to find, though we had defeated our opponents in the three instances which have been mentioned, that the tide ran decidedly against us, upon the general question, in the House of Commons. The same statements, which had struck so many members with panic in the former sessions, such as that of emancipation, of the ruin and massacre of the planters, and of indemnification to the amount of seventy millions, had been industriously kept up, and this by a personal canvass among them. But this hostile disposition was still unfortunately increased by considerations of another sort. For the witnesses of our opponents had taken their ground first. No less than eleven of them had been examined in the last sessions. In the present, two-thirds of the time had been occupied by others on the same side. Hence the impression upon this ground also was against us; and we had yet had no adequate opportunity of doing it away. A clamour was also raised, where we thought it least likely to have originated. They (the planters) it was said, had produced persons in elevated life and of the highest character as witnesses; whereas we had been obliged to take up with those of the lowest condition. This idea was circulated directly after the introduction of Isaac Parker, before mentioned; a simple mariner; and who was now contrasted with the admirals on the other side of the question. This outcry was not only ungenerous, but unconstitutional. It is the glory of the English law, that it has no scale of veracity, which it adapts to persons, according to the station, which they may be found to occupy in life. In our courts of law the poor are heard as well as the rich; and if their reputation be fair, and they stand proof against the cross-examinations they undergo, both the judge and the jury must determine the matter in dispute by their evidence. But the House of Commons were now called upon by our opponents, to adopt the preposterous maxim of attaching falsehood to poverty, or of weighing truth by the standard of rank and riches. But though we felt a considerable degree of pain, in finding this adverse disposition among so many members of the Lower House, it was some consolation to us to know, that our cause had not suffered with their constituents, the people. These were still warmly with us. Indeed, their hatred of the trade had greatly increased. Many circumstances had occurred in this year to promote it. The committee, during my absence in France, had circulated the plate of the slave-ship throughout all England. No one saw it but he was impressed. It spoke to him in a language, which was at once intelligible and irresistible. It brought forth the tear of sympathy in behalf of the sufferers, and it fixed their sufferings in his heart. The committee too had been particularly vigilant during the whole of the year, with respect to the public papers. They had suffered no statement in behalf of those interested in the continuance of the trade, to go unanswered. Dr. Dickson, the author of the Letters on Slavery before mentioned, had come forward again with his services on this occasion, and by his active cooperation with a sub-committee appointed for the purpose, the coast was so well cleared of our opponents, that, though they were seen the next year again, through the medium of the same papers, they appeared only in sudden incursions, as it were, during which they darted a few weapons at us; but they never afterward ventured upon the plain to dispute the matter, inch by inch, or point by point, in an open and manly manner. But other circumstances occurred to keep up a hatred of the trade among the people in this interval, which, trivial as they were, ought not to be forgotten. The amiable poet Cowper had frequently made the Slave-trade the subject of his contemplation. He had already severely condemned it in his valuable poem The Task. But now he had written three little fugitive pieces upon it. Of these the most impressive was that, which he called The Negro's Complaint, and of which the following is a copy: "Forced from home and all its pleasures, Afric's coast I left forlorn, To increase a stranger's treasures, O'er the raging billows borne; Men from England bought and sold me, Paid my price in paltry gold; But, though theirs they have inroll'd me, Minds are never to be sold. "Still in thought as free as ever, What are England's rights, I ask. Me from my delights to sever, Me to torture, me to task? Fleecy locks and black complexion Cannot forfeit Nature's claim; Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in black and white the same. "Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant, for which we toil? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters, iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards, Think, how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords. "Is there, as you sometimes tell us, Is there one, who rules on high; Has he bid you buy and sell us, Speaking from his throne, the sky? Ask him, if your knotted scourges, Fetters, blood-extorting screws, Are the means, which duty urges Agents of his will to use? "Hark! he answers. Wild tornadoes, Strewing yonder sea with wrecks, Wasting towns, plantations, meadows, Are the voice with which he speaks. He, foreseeing what vexations Afric's sons should undergo, Fix'd their tyrants' habitations Where his whirlwinds answer--No. "By our blood in Afric wasted, Ere our necks received the chain; By the miseries, which we tasted Crossing, in your barks, the main; By our sufferings, since you brought us To the man-degrading mart, All sustain'd by patience, taught us Only by a broken heart. "Deem our nation brutes no longer, Till some reason you shall find Worthier of regard, and stronger, Than the colour of our kind. Slaves of gold! whose sordid dealings Tarnish all your boasted powers, Prove that you have human feelings, Ere you proudly question ours." This little piece, Cowper presented in manuscript to some of his friends in London; and these, conceiving it to contain a powerful appeal in behalf of the injured Africans, joined in printing it. Having ordered it on the finest hot-pressed paper, and folded it up in a small and neat form, they gave it the printed title of "A Subject for Conversation at the Tea-table." After this, they sent many thousand copies of it in franks into the country. From one it spread to another, till it travelled almost over the whole island. Falling at length into the hands of the musician, it was set to music; and it then found its way into the streets, both of the metropolis and of the country, where it was sung as a ballad; and where it gave a plain account of the subject, with an appropriate feeling, to those who heard it. Nor was the philanthropy of the late Mr. Wedgwood less instrumental in turning the popular feeling in our favour. He made his own manufactory contribute to this end. He took the seal of the committee, as exhibited in the first volume, for his model; and he produced a beautiful cameo, of a less size, of which the ground was a most delicate white, but the Negro, who was seen imploring compassion in the middle of it, was in his own native colour. Mr. Wedgwood made a liberal donation of these, when finished, among his friends. I received from him no less than five hundred of them myself. They, to whom they were sent, did not lay them up in their cabinets, but gave them away likewise. They were soon, like The Negro's Complaint, in different parts of the kingdom. Some had them inlaid in gold on the lid of their snuff-boxes. Of the ladies, several wore them in bracelets, and others had them fitted up in an ornamental manner as pins for their hair. At length, the taste for wearing them became general; and thus fashion, which usually confines itself to worthless things, was seen for once in the honourable office of promoting the cause of justice, humanity, and freedom. I shall now only state that the committee took as members within its own body, in the period of time which is included in this chapter, the Reverend Mr. Ormerod, chaplain to the Bishop of London, and Captain James Bowen, of the royal navy; that they elected the honourable Nathaniel Curzon (now Lord Scarsdale), Dr. Frossard of Lyons, and Benjamin Garlike, esquire, then secretary to the English embassy at the Hague, honorary and corresponding members; and that they concluded their annual labours with a suitable report; in which they noticed the extraordinary efforts of our opponents to injure our cause, in the following manner: "In the progress of this business a powerful combination of interest has been excited against us. The African trader, the planter, and the West India merchant have united their forces to defend the fortress, in which their supposed treasures lie. Vague calculations and false alarms have been thrown out to the public, in order to show, that the constitution and even the existence of this free and opulent nation depend on its depriving the inhabitants of a foreign country of those rights and of that liberty, which we ourselves so highly and so justly prize. Surely in the nature of things and in the order of Providence it cannot be so. England existed as a great nation, long before the African commerce was known amongst us, and it is not to acts of injustice and violence that she owes her present rank in the scale of nations." CHAPTER III. _Continuation from July 1790 to July 1791--Author travels again throughout the kingdom--Object of his journey--Motion in the House of Commons to resume the hearing of evidence in favour of the abolition--List of all those examined on this side of the question--Machinations of interested persons, and cruel circumstances of the times previously to the day of decision--Motion at length made for stopping all further importation of Slaves from Africa--debates upon it--motion lost--Resolutions of the committee for the Abolition of the Slave-trade--Establishment of the Sierra Leone Company._ It was a matter of deep affliction to us to think, that the crimes and sufferings inseparable from the Slave-trade were to be continued to another year. And yet it was our duty, in the present moment, to acquiesce in the postponement of the question. This postponement was not now for the purpose of delay, but of securing victory. The evidence, on the side of the abolition, was, at the end of the last session, but half finished. It was impossible, for the sake of Africa, that we could have then closed it. No other opportunity might offer in parliament for establishing an indelible record in her favour, if we were to neglect the present. It was our duty therefore even to wait to complete it, and to procure such a body of evidence, as should not only bear us out in the approaching contest, but such as, if we were to fail, would bear out our successors also. It was possible indeed, if the inhabitants of our islands were to improve in civilization, that the poor slaves might experience gradually an improved treatment with it; and so far testimony now might not be testimony for ever: but it was utterly impossible, while the Slave-trade lasted, and the human passions continued to be the same, that there should be any change for the better in Africa; or that any modes, less barbarous, should come into use for procuring slaves. Evidence therefore, if once collected on this subject, would be evidence for posterity. In the midst of these thoughts another journey occurred to me as necessary for this purpose; and I prayed, that I might have strength to perform it in the most effectual manner; and that I might be daily impressed, as I travelled along, with the stimulating thought, that the last hope for millions might possibly rest upon my own endeavours. The committee highly approved of this journey. Mr. Wilberforce saw the absolute necessity of it also; and had prepared a number of questions, with great ingenuity, to be put to such persons, as might have information to communicate. These I added to those in the tables, which have been already mentioned; and they made together a valuable collection on the subject. This tour was the most vexatious of any I had yet undertaken; many still refused to come forward to be examined, and some on the most frivolous pretences; so that I was disgusted, as I journeyed on, to find how little men were disposed to make sacrifices for so great a cause. In one part of it I went over nearly two thousand miles, receiving repeated refusals. I had not secured one witness within this distance. This was truly disheartening. I was subject to the whims and the caprice of those, whom I solicited on these occasions[A]. To these I was obliged to accommodate myself. When at Edinburgh, a person who could have given me material information, declined seeing me, though he really wished well to the cause. When I had returned southward as far as York, he changed his mind; and he would then see me. I went back, that I might not lose him. When I arrived, he would give me only private information. Thus I travelled, backwards and forwards, four hundred miles to no purpose. At another place a circumstance almost similar happened, though with a different issue. I had been for two years writing about a person, whose testimony was important. I had passed once through the town, in which he lived; but he would not then see me. I passed through it now, but no entreaties of his friends could make him alter his resolution. He was a man highly respectable as to situation in life; but of considerable vanity. I said therefore to my friend, on leaving the town, You may tell him that I expect to be at Nottingham in a few days; and though it be a hundred and fifty miles distant, I will even come back to see him, if he will dine with me on my return. A letter from my friend announced to me, when at Nottingham, that his vanity had been so gratified by the thought of a person coming expressly to visit him from such a distance, that he would meet me according to my appointment. I went back. We dined together. He yielded to my request. I was now repaid; and I returned towards Nottingham in the night. These circumstances I mention, and I feel it right to mention them, that the reader may be properly impressed with the great difficulties we found in collecting a body of evidence in comparison with our opponents. They ought never to be forgotten; for if with the testimony, picked up as it were under all these disadvantages, we carried our object against those, who had almost numberless witnesses to command, what must have been the merits of our cause! No person can indeed judge of the severe labour and trials in these journeys. In the present, I was out four months. I was almost over the whole island, I intersected it backwards and forwards both in the night and in the day. I travelled nearly seven thousand miles in this time, and I was able to count upon twenty new and willing evidences. [Footnote A: Ten or twelve of those, who were examined, much to their honour, came forward of their own accord.] Having now accomplished my object, Mr. Wilberforce moved on the fourth of February in the House of Commons, that a committee be appointed to examine further witnesses in behalf of the abolition of the Slave-trade. This motion was no sooner made, than Mr. Cawthorne rose, to our great surprise, to oppose it. He took upon himself to decide, that the house had heard evidence enough. This indecent motion was not without its advocates. Mr. Wilberforce set forth the injustice of this attempt; and proved, that out of eighty-one days, which had been given up to the hearing of evidence, the witnesses against the abolition had occupied no less than fifty-seven. He was strenuously supported by Mr. Burke, Mr. Martin, and other respectable members. At length, the debate ended in favour of the original motion, and a committee was appointed accordingly. The examinations began again on February the seventh, and continued till April the fifth, when they were finally closed. In this, as in the former session, Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. William Smith principally conducted them; and indeed it was necessary that they should have been present at these times; for it is perhaps difficult to conceive the illiberal manner, in which our witnesses were treated by those on the other side of the question. Men, who had left the trade upon principle, and who had come forward, against their apparent interest, to serve the cause of humanity and justice, were looked upon as mercenaries and culprits, or as men of doubtful and suspicious character. They were brow-beaten. Unhandsome questions were put to them. Some were kept for four days under examination. It was however highly to their honour, that they were found in no one instance to prevaricate, nor to waver as to the certainty of their facts. But this treatment, hard as it was for them to bear, was indeed good for the cause; for, coming thus pure out of the fire, they occasioned their own testimony, when read, to bear stronger marks of truth than that of the generality of our opponents; nor was it less superior, when weighed by other considerations. For the witnesses against the abolition were principally interested. They who were not, had been hospitably received at the planters' tables. The evidence too, which they delivered, was almost wholly negative. They had not seen such and such evils. But this was no proof that the evils did not exist. The witnesses, on the other hand, who came up in favour of the abolition, had no advantage in making their several assertions. In some instances they came up against their apparent interest; and, to my knowledge, suffered persecution for so doing. The evidence also, which they delivered, was of a positive nature. They gave an account of specific evils, which had come under their own eyes. These evils were never disproved. They stood therefore on a firm basis, as on a tablet of brass. Engraved there in affirmative characters; a few of them were of more value, than all the negative and airy testimony, which had been advanced on the other side of the question. That the public may judge, in some measure, of the respectability of the witnesses in favour of the abolition, and that they may know also to whom Africa is so much indebted for her deliverance, I shall subjoin their names in the three following lists. The first will contain those, who were examined by the privy council only; the second those, who were examined by the privy council and the house of commons also; and the third those, who were examined by the house of commons only. LIST I. Andrew Spaarman, physician, botanist, and successor to Linnaeus, traveller on discovery in Africa for the King of Sweden. Reverend Isham Baggs, chaplain for two voyages to Africa in H.M. ship, Grampus. Captain James Bowen, of the royal navy, one voyage to Africa. Mr. William James, a master in the royal navy, three voyages, as mate of a slave-vessel. Mr. David Henderson, gunner of H.M. ship Centurion, three voyages to Africa. Harry Gandy, two voyages to Africa, as captain of a slave-vessel. Thomas Eldred, two voyages there, as mate. James Arnold, three voyages there, as surgeon and surgeon's mate. Thomas Deane, two voyages there, as captain of a wood and ivory ship. LIST II. Major-General Rooke, commander of Goree, in Africa. Henry Hew Dalrymple, esquire, lieutenant of the 75th regiment at Goree, and afterwards in all the West Indian islands. Thomas Willson, esquire, naval commander at Goree. John Hills, esquire, captain of H.M. ship Zephyr, on the African station. Sir George Yonge, two voyages as lieutenant, and two as captain, of a ship of war, on the African station. Charles Berns Wadstrom, esquire, traveller on discovery in Africa for the King of Sweden. Reverend John Newton, five voyages to Africa in a slave-vessel, and resident eighteen months there. Captain John Ashley Hall, in the merchant service, two voyages in a slave-vessel as a mate. Alexander Falconbridge, four voyages in a slave-vessel as surgeon and surgeon's mate. Captain John Samuel Smith, of the royal navy, on the West India station. LIST III. Anthony Pantaleo How, esquire, employed by Government as a botanist in Africa. Sir Thomas Bolton Thompson, two voyages as a lieutenant, and two as commander of a ship of war on the African station. Lieutenant John Simpson, of the marines, two voyages in a ship of war on the African station. Lieutenant Richard Storey, of the royal navy, four years on the slave-employ all over the coast. Mr. George Miller, gunner of H.M. ship Pegase, one voyage in a slave-ship. Mr. James Morley, gunner of H.M. ship Medway, six voyages in a slave-ship. Mr. Henry Ellison, gunner of H.M. ship Resistance, eleven years in the slave-trade. Mr. James Towne, carpenter of H.M. ship Syren, two voyages in a slave-ship. Mr. John Douglas, boatswain of H.M. ship Russel, one voyage in a slave-ship. Mr. Isaac Parker, shipkeeper of H.M. ship Melampus, two voyages in a slave-ship. Thomas Trotter, esquire, M.D. one voyage as surgeon of a slave-ship. Mr. Isaac Wilson, one voyage as surgeon of a slave-ship. Mr. Ecroyde Claxton, one voyage as surgeon of a slave-ship. James Kiernan, esquire, resident four years on the banks of the Senegal. Mr. John Bowman, eleven years in the slave-employ as mate, and as a factor in the interior of Africa. Mr. William Dove, one voyage for slaves, and afterwards resident in America. Major-general Tottenham, two years resident in the West Indies. Captain Giles, 19th regiment, seven years quartered in the West Indies. Captain Cook, 89th regiment, two years quartered in the West Indies. Lieutenant Baker Davison, 79th regiment, twelve years quartered in the West Indies. Captain Hall, of the royal navy, five years on the West India station. Captain Thomas Lloyd, of the royal navy, one year on the West India station. Captain Alexander Scott, of the royal navy, one voyage to Africa and the West Indies. Mr. Ninian Jeffreys, a master in the royal navy, five years mate of a West Indiaman, and for two years afterwards in the Islands in a ship of war. Reverend Thomas Gwynn Rees, chaplain of H.M. ship Princess Amelia, in the West Indies. Reverend Robert Boucher Nicholls, dean of Middleham, many years resident in the West Indies. Hercules Ross, esquire, twenty-one years a merchant in the West Indies. Mr. Thomas Clappeson, fifteen years in the West Indies as a wharfinger and pilot. Mr. Mark Cook, sixteen years in the West Indies, first in the planting business; and then as clerk and schoolmaster. Mr. Henry Coor, a mill-wright for fifteen years in the West Indies. Reverend Mr. Davies, resident fourteen years in the West Indies. Mr. William Duncan, four years in the West Indies, first as a clerk and then as an overseer. Mr. William Fitzmaurice, fifteen years, first as a book-keeper, and then as an overseer, in the West Indies. Mr. Robert Forster, six years, first in a store, then as second master and pilot of a ship of war in the West Indies. Mr. Robert Ross, twenty-four years, first as a book-keeper, then as an overseer, and afterwards as a planter, in the West Indies. Mr. John Terry, fourteen years an overseer or manager in the West Indies. Mr. Matthew Terry, twelve years resident, first as a book-keeper and overseer, than as a land-surveyor in the King's service, and afterwards, as a colony-surveyor, in the West Indies. George Woodward, esquire, an owner and mortgagee of property, and occasionally a resident in the West Indies. Mr. Joseph Woodward, three years resident in the West Indies. Henry Botham, esquire, a director of sugar-works both in the East and West Indies. Mr. John Giles, resident twelve years in the West Indies and America. J. Harrison, esquire, M.D. twenty-three years resident, in the medical line, in the West Indies and America. Robert Jackson, esquire, M.D. four years resident in the West Indies in the medical line, after which he joined his regiment, in the same profession, in America. Thomas Woolrich, esquire, twenty years a merchant in the West Indies, but in the interim was twice in America. Reverend James Stuart, two years in the West Indies, and twenty in America. George Baillie, esquire, one year in the West Indies, and twenty-five in America. William Beverley, esquire, eighteen years in America. John Clapham, esquire, twenty years in America. Robert Crew, esquire, a native of America, and long resident there. John Savage, esquire, forty-six years resident in America. The evidence having been delivered on both sides, and then printed, it was judged expedient by Mr. Wilberforce, seeing that it filled three folio volumes, to abridge it. This abridgement was made by the different friends of the cause. William Burgh, esquire, of York; Thomas Babington, esquire, of Rothley Temple; the Reverend Thomas Gisborne, of Yoxall Lodge; Mr. Campbell Haliburton, of Edinburgh; George Harrison, with one or two others of the committee, and myself, were employed upon it. The greater share, however, of the labour fell upon Dr. Dickson. That no misrepresentation of any person's testimony might be made, Matthew Montagu, esquire, and the honourable E.J. Eliott, members of parliament, undertook to compare the abridged manuscripts with the original text, and to strike out or correct whatever they thought to be erroneous, and to insert whatever they thought to have been omitted. The committee, for the abolition, when the work was finished, printed it at their own expense. Mr. Wilberforce then presented it to the House of Commons, as a faithful abridgement of the whole evidence. Having been received as such under the guarantee of Mr. Montagu and Mr. Eliott, the committee sent it to every individual member of that House. The book having been thus presented, and a day fixed for the final determination of the question, our feelings became almost insupportable: for we had the mortification to find, that our cause was going down in estimation, where it was then most important that it should have increased in favour. Our opponents had taken advantage of the long delay, which the examination of evidence had occasioned, to prejudice the minds of many of the members of the House of Commons against us. The old arguments of emancipation, massacre, ruin, and indemnification, had been kept up; but, as the day of final decision approached, they had been increased. Such was our situation at this moment; when the current was turned still more powerfully against us by the peculiar circumstances of the times. It was indeed the misfortune of this great cause to be assailed by every weapon, which could be turned against it. At this time Thomas Paine had published his Rights of Man. This had been widely circulated. At this time also the French revolution had existed nearly two years. The people of England had seen, during this interval, a government as it were dissected. They had seen an old constitution taken down, and a new one put up, piece by piece, in its stead. The revolution, therefore, in conjunction with the book in question, had had the effect of producing dissatisfaction among thousands; and this dissatisfaction was growing, so as to alarm a great number of persons of property in the kingdom, as well as the government itself. Now will it be believed that our opponents had the injustice to lay hold of these circumstances, at this critical moment, to give a death-blow to the cause of the abolition? They represented the committee, though it had existed before the French revolution or the Rights of Man were heard of, as a nest of Jacobins; and they held up the cause, sacred as it was, and though it had the support of the minister, as affording an opportunity of meeting for the purpose of overthrowing the state. Their cry succeeded. The very book of the abridgment of the evidence was considered by many members as poisonous as that of the Rights of Man. It was too profane for many of them to touch; and they who discarded it, discarded the cause also. But these were not the only circumstances which were used as means, at this critical moment, to defeat us. News of the revolution, which had commenced in St. Domingo in consequence of the disputes between the Whites and the People of Colour, had, long before this, arrived in England. The horrible scenes which accompanied it, had been frequently published as so many arguments against our cause. In January new insurrections were announced as having happened in Martinique. The Negros there were described as armed, and the planters as having abandoned their estates for fear of massacre. Early in the month of March insurrections in the smaller French islands were reported. Every effort was then made to represent these as the effects of the new principles of liberty, and of the cry for abolition. But what should happen, just at this moment, to increase the clamour against us? Nothing less than an insurrection in Dominica.--Yes!--An insurrection in a British island. This was the very event for our opponents. "All the predictions of the planters had now become verified. The horrible massacres were now realizing at home." To give this news still greater effect, a meeting of our opponents was held at the London Tavern. By a letter read there it appeared, that "the ruin of Dominica was now at hand." Resolutions were voted, and a memorial presented to government, "immediately to dispatch such a military force to the different islands, as might preserve the Whites from destruction, and keep the Negros in subjection during the present critical state of the slave-bill." This alarm was kept up till the seventh of April, when another meeting took place to receive the answer of government to the memorial. It was there resolved, that "as it was too late to send troops to the islands, the best way of preserving them would be to bring the question of the Slave-trade to an immediate issue; and that it was the duty of the government, if they regarded the safety of the islands, to oppose the abolition of it." Accounts of all these proceedings were inserted in the public papers. It is needless to say that they were injurious to our cause. Many looked upon the abolitionists as monsters. They became also terrified themselves. The idea with these was, that unless the discussion on this subject was terminated, all would be lost. Thus, under a combination of effects arising from the publication of the Rights of Man, the rise and progress of the French revolution, and the insurrections of the Negros in the different islands, no one of which events had any thing to do with the abolition of the Slave-trade, the current was turned against us; and in this unfavourable frame of mind many members of parliament went into the House, on the day fixed for the discussion, to discharge their duty with respect to this great question. On the eighteenth of April Mr. Wilberforce made his motion. He began by expressing a hope, that the present debate, instead of exciting asperity and confirming prejudice, would tend to produce a general conviction of the truth of what in fact was incontrovertible; that the abolition of the Slave-trade was indispensably required of them, not only by morality and religion, but by sound policy. He stated that he should argue the matter from evidence. He adverted to the character, situation, and means of information of his own witnesses; and having divided his subject into parts, the first of which related to the manner of reducing the natives of Africa to a state of slavery, he handled it in the following manner. He would begin, he said, with the first boundary of the trade. Captain Wilson and Captain Hills, of His Majesty's navy, and Mr. Dalrymple of the land service, had concurred in stating, that in the country contiguous to the river Senegal, when slave-ships arrived there, armed parties were regularly sent out in the evening, who scoured the country, and brought in their prey. The wretched victims were to be seen in the morning bound back to back in the huts on shore, whence they were conveyed, tied hand and foot, to the slave-ships. The design of these ravages was obvious, because, when the Slave-trade was stopped, they ceased. Mr. Kiernan spoke of the constant depredations by the Moors to procure slaves. Mr. Wadstrom confirmed them. The latter gentleman showed also that they were excited by presents of brandy, gunpowder, and such other incentives; and that they were not only carried on by one community against another; but that the Kings were stimulated to practise them, in their own territories, and on their own subjects: and in one instance a chieftain, who, when intoxicated, could not resist the demands of the slave-merchants, had expressed, in a moment of reason, a due sense of his own crime, and had reproached his Christian seducers. Abundant also were the instances of private rapine. Individuals were kidnapped, whilst in their fields and gardens. There was an universal feeling of distrust and apprehension there. The natives never went any distance from home without arms; and when Captain Wilson asked them the reason of it, they pointed to a slave-ship then lying within sight. On the windward coast, it appeared from Lieutenant Story and Mr. Bowman, that the evils just mentioned existed, if possible, in a still higher degree. They had seen the remains of villages, which had been burnt, whilst the fields of corn were still standing beside them, and every other trace of recent desolation. Here an agent was sent to establish a settlement in the country, and to send to the ships such slaves as he might obtain. The orders he received from his captain were, that "he was to encourage the chieftains by brandy and gunpowder to go to war, to make slaves." This he did. The chieftains performed their part in return. The neighbouring villages were surrounded and set on fire in the night. The inhabitants were seized when making their escape; and, being brought to the agent, were by him forwarded to his principal on the coast. Mr. How, a botanist in the service of Government, stated, that on the arrival of an order for slaves, from Cape Coast Castle, while he was there, a native chief immediately sent forth armed parties, who brought in a supply of all descriptions in the night. But he would now mention one or two instances of another sort, and these merely on account of the conclusion, which was to be drawn from them. When Captain Hills was in the river Gambia, he mentioned accidentally to a Black pilot, who was in the boat with him, that he wanted a cabin-boy. It so happened that some youths were then on the shore with vegetables to sell. The pilot beckoned to them to come on board; at the same time giving Captain Hills to understand, that he might take his choice of them; and when Captain Hills rejected the proposal with indignation, the pilot seemed perfectly at a loss to account for his warmth; and drily observed, that the slave-captains would not have been so scrupulous. Again, when General Rooke commanded at Goree, a number of the natives, men, women, and children, came to pay him a friendly visit. All was gaiety and merriment. It was a scene to gladden the saddest, and to soften the hardest heart. But a slave-captain was not so soon thrown off his guard. Three English barbarians of this description had the audacity jointly to request the general, to seize the whole unsuspicious multitude and sell them. For this they alleged the precedent of a former governor. Was not this request a proof of the frequency of such acts of rapine? for how familiar must such have been to slave-captains, when three of them dared to carry to a British officer of rank such a flagitious proposal! This would stand in the place of a thousand instances. It would give credibility to every other act of violence stated in the evidence, however enormous it might appear. But he would now have recourse for a moment to circumstantial evidence. An adverse witness, who had lived on the Gold Coast, had said that the only way, in which children could be enslaved, was by whole families being sold when the principals had been condemned for witchcraft. But he said at the same time, that few were convicted of this crime, and that the younger part of a family in these cases was sometimes spared. But if this account were true, it would follow that the children in the slave-vessels would be few indeed. But it had been proved, that the usual proportion of these was never less than a fourth of the whole cargo on that coast, and also, that the kidnapping of children was very prevalent there. All these atrocities, he said, were fully substantiated by the evidence; and here he should do injustice to his cause, if he were not to make a quotation from the speech of Mr. B. Edwards in the Assembly of Jamaica, who, though he was hostile to his propositions, had yet the candour to deliver himself in the following manner there. "I am persuaded," says he, "that Mr. Wilberforce has been rightly informed as to the manner in which slaves are generally procured. The intelligence I have collected from my own Negros abundantly confirms his account; and I have not the smallest doubt, that in Africa the effects of this trade are precisely such as he has represented them. The whole, or the greatest part, of that immense continent is a field of warfare and desolation; a wilderness, in which the inhabitants are wolves towards each other. That this scene of oppression, fraud, treachery, and bloodshed, if not originally occasioned, is in part (I will not say wholly) upheld by the Slave-trade, I dare not dispute. Every man in the Sugar Islands may be convinced that it is so, who will inquire of any African Negros, on their first arrival, concerning the circumstances of their captivity. The assertion that it is otherwise, is mockery and insult." But it was not only by acts of outrage that the Africans were brought into bondage. The very administration of justice was turned into an engine for that end. The smallest offence was punished by a fine equal to the value of a slave. Crimes were also fabricated; false accusations were resorted to; and persons were sometimes employed to seduce the unwary into practices with a view to the conviction and the sale of them. It was another effect of this trade, that it corrupted the morals of those, who carried it on. Every fraud was used to deceive the ignorance of the natives by false weights and measures, adulterated commodities, and other impositions of a like sort. These frauds were even acknowledged by many, who had themselves practised them in obedience to the orders of their superiors. For the honour of the mercantile character of the country, such a traffic ought immediately to be suppressed. Yet these things, however clearly proved by positive testimony, by the concession of opponents, by particular inference, by general reasoning, by the most authentic histories of Africa, by the experience of all countries and of all ages,--these things, and (what was still more extraordinary) even the possibility of them, were denied by those, who had been brought forward on the other side of the question. These, however, were chiefly persons, who had been trading governors of forts in Africa; or who had long commanded ships in the Slave-trade. As soon as he knew the sort of witnesses which was to be called against him, he had been prepared to expect much prejudice. But his expectations had been greatly surpassed by the testimony they had given. He did not mean to impeach their private characters, but they certainly showed themselves under the influence of such gross prejudices, as to render them incompetent judges of the subject they came to elucidate. They seemed (if he might so say) to be enveloped by a certain atmosphere of their own; and to see, as it were, through a kind of African medium. Every object, which met their eyes, came distorted and turned from its true direction. Even the declarations, which they made on other occasions, seemed wholly strange to them. They sometimes not only forgot what they had seen, but what they had said; and when to one of them his own testimony to the privy council was read, he mistook it for that of another, whose evidence he declared to be "the merest burlesque in the world." But the House must be aware that there was not only an African medium, but an African logic. It seemed to be an acknowledged axiom in this; that every person, who offered a slave for sale, had a right to sell him, however fraudulently he might have obtained him. This had been proved by the witnesses, who opposed him. "It would have stopped my trade," said one of them, "to have asked the broker, how he came by the person he was offering me for sale"--"We always suppose," said another, "the broker has a right to sell the person he offers us"--"I never heard of such a question being asked," said a third; "a man would be thought a fool, who should put such a question."--He hoped the House would see the practical utility of this logic. It was the key-stone, which held the building together. By means of it, slave-captains might traverse the whole coast of Africa, and see nothing but equitable practices. They could not, however, be wholly absolved, even if they availed themselves of this principle to its fullest extent; for they had often committed depredations themselves; especially when they were passing by any part of the coast, where they did not mean to continue or to go again. Hence it was (as several captains of the navy and others had declared on their examination) that the natives, when at sea in their canoes, would never come near the men of war, till they knew them to be such. But finding this, and that they were not slave-vessels, they laid aside their fears, and came and continued on board with unsuspecting cheerfulness. With respect to the miseries of the Middle Passage, he had said so much on a former occasion, that he would spare the feelings of the committee as much as he could. He would therefore simply state that the evidence, which was before them, confirmed all those scenes of wretchedness, which he had then described; the same suffering from a state of suffocation by being crowded together; the same dancing in fetters; the same melancholy singing; the same eating by compulsion; the same despair; the same insanity; and all the other abominations which characterized the trade. New instances however had occurred, where these wretched men had resolved on death to terminate their woes. Some had destroyed themselves by refusing sustenance, in spite of threats and punishments. Others had thrown themselves into the sea; and more than one, when in the act of drowning, were seen to wave their hands in triumph, "exulting" (to use the words of an eye-witness) "that they had escaped." Yet these and similar things, when viewed through the African medium he had mentioned, took a different shape and colour. Captain Knox, an adverse witness, had maintained, that slaves lay during the night in tolerable comfort. And yet he confessed, that in a vessel of one hundred and twenty tons, in which he had carried two hundred and ninety slaves, the latter had not all of them room to lie on their backs. How comfortably then must they have lain in his subsequent voyages! for he carried afterwards in a vessel of a hundred and eight tons four hundred and fifty and in a vessel of one hundred and fifty tons, no less than six hundred slaves. Another instance of African deception was to be found in the testimony of Captain Frazer, one of the most humane captains in the trade. It had been said of him, that he had held hot coals to the mouth of a slave, to compel him to eat. He was questioned on this point; but not admitting, in the true spirit of African logic, that he who makes another commit a crime, is guilty of it himself, he denied the charge indignantly, and defied a proof. But it was said to him, "Did you never order such a thing to be done?" His reply was, "Being sick in my cabin, I was informed that a man-slave would neither eat, drink, nor speak. I desired the mate and surgeon to try to persuade him to speak. I desired that the slaves might try also. When I found he was still obstinate, not knowing whether it was from sulkiness or insanity, I ordered a person to present him with a piece of fire in one hand and a piece of yam in the other, and to tell me what effect this had upon him. I learnt that he took the yam and began to eat it, but he threw the fire overboard." Such was his own account of the matter. This was eating by duresse, if any thing could be called so. The captain, however, triumphed in his expedient, and concluded by telling the committee, that he sold this very slave at Grenada for forty pounds. Mark here the moral of the tale, and learn the nature and the cure of sulkiness. But upon whom did the cruelties, thus arising out of the prosecution of this barbarous traffic, fall? Upon a people with feeling and intellect like ourselves. One witness had spoken of the acuteness of their understandings; another of the extent of their memories; a third of their genius for commerce; a fourth of their proficiency in manufactures at home. Many had admired their gentle and peaceable disposition; their cheerfulness; and their hospitality. Even they, who were nominally slaves in Africa, lived a happy life. A witness against the abolition had described them as sitting and eating with their masters in the true style of patriarchal simplicity and comfort. Were these then a people incapable of civilization? The argument that they were an inferior species had been proved to be false. He would now go to a new part of the subject. An opinion had gone forth that the abolition of the trade would be the ruin of the West India Islands. He trusted he should prove that the direct contrary was the truth; though, had he been unable to do this, it would have made no difference as to his own vote. In examining, however, this opinion, he should exclude the subject of the cultivation of new lands by fresh importations of slaves. The impolicy of this measure, apart from its inhumanity, was indisputably clear. Let the committee consider the dreadful mortality, which attended it. Let them look to the evidence of Mr. Woolrich, and there see a contrast drawn between the slow, but sure progress of cultivation, carried on in the natural way, and the attempt to force improvements, which, however flattering the prospect at first, soon produced a load of debt, and inextricable embarrassments. He might even appeal to the statements of the West Indians themselves, who allowed that more than twenty millions were owing to the people of this country, to show that no system could involve them so deeply as that, on which they had hitherto gone. But he would refer them to the accounts of Mr. Irving, as contained in the evidence. Waving then the consideration of this part of the subject, the opinion in question must have arisen from a notion, that the stock of slaves, now in the islands, could not be kept up by propagation; but that it was necessary, from time to time, to recruit them with imported Africans. In direct refutation of this position he should prove, First, that in the condition and treatment of the Negros, there were causes, sufficient to afford us reason to expect a considerable decrease, but particularly that their increase had not been a serious object of attention; Secondly, that this decrease was in fact, notwithstanding, very trifling; or rather, he believed, he might declare it had now actually ceased; and, Thirdly, he should urge many direct and collateral facts and arguments, constituting on the whole an irresistible proof, that even a rapid increase might henceforth be expected. He wished to treat the West Indians with all possible candour; but he was obliged to confess, in arguing upon these points, that whatever splendid instances there might be of kindness towards their slaves, there were some evils of almost universal operation, were necessarily connected with the system of slavery. Above all, the state of degradation, to which they were reduced, deserved to be noticed; as it produced an utter inattention to them as moral agents. They were kept at work under the whip like cattle. They were left totally ignorant of morality and religion. There was no regular marriage among them. Hence promiscuous intercourse, early prostitution, and excessive drinking, were material causes of their decrease. With respect to the instruction of the slaves in the principles of religion, the happiest effects had resulted, particularly in Antigua, where, under the Moravians and Methodists, they had so far profited, that the planters themselves confessed their value, as property, had been raised one-third by their increased habits of regularity and industry. Whatever might have been said to the contrary, it was plainly to be inferred from the evidence, that the slaves were not protected by law. Colonial statutes had indeed been passed; but they were a dead letter; since, however ill they were treated, they were not considered as having a right to redress. An instance of astonishing cruelty by a Jew had been mentioned by Mr. Ross. It was but justice to say, that the man was held in detestation for it; but yet no one had ever thought of calling him to a legal account. Mr. Ross conceived a master had a right to punish his slave in whatever manner he might think proper. The same was declared by numberless other witnesses. Some instances, indeed, had lately occurred of convictions. A master had wantonly cut the mouth of a child, of six months old, almost from ear to ear. But did not the verdict of the jury show, that the doctrine of calling masters to an account was entirely novel; as it only pronounced him "Guilty, subject to the opinion of the court, if immoderate correction of a slave by his master be a crime indictable!" The court determined in the affirmative; and what was the punishment of this barbarous act?--A fine of forty shillings currency, equivalent to about twenty-five shillings sterling. The slaves were but ill off in point of medical care. Sometimes four or five, and even eight or nine thousand of them, were under the care of one medical man; which, dispersed on different and distant estates, was a greater number than he could possibly attend to. It was also in evidence, that they were in general under-fed. They were supported partly by the produce of their own provision-ground, and partly by an allowance of flour and grain from their masters. In one of the islands, where provision-ground did not answer one year in three, the allowance to a working Negro was but from five to nine pints of grain per week: in Dominica, where it never failed, from six to seven quarts: in Nevis and St. Christophers, where there was no provision-ground, it was but eleven pints. Add to this, that it might be still less, as the circumstances of their masters might become embarrassed; and in this case both an abridgment of their food, and an increase of their labour, would follow. But the great cause of the decrease of the slaves was in the non-residence of the planters. Sir George Yonge, and many others, had said, they had seen the slaves treated in a manner, which their owners would have resented, if they had known it. Mr. Orde spoke in the strongest terms of the misconduct of managers. The fact was, that these in general sought to establish their characters by producing large crops at a small immediate expense; too little considering how far the slaves might suffer from ill-treatment and excessive labour. The pursuit of such a system was a criterion for judging of their characters, as both Mr. Long and Mr. Ottley had confessed. But he must contend, in addition to this, that the object of keeping up the stock of slaves by breeding had never been seriously attended to. For this he might appeal both to his own witnesses, and to those of his opponents; but he would only notice one fact. It was remarkable that, when owners and managers were asked about the produce of their estates, they were quite at home as to the answer; but when they were asked about the proportion of their male and female slaves, and their infants, they knew little about the matter. Even medical men were adepts in the art of planting; but when they were asked the latter questions, as connected with breeding and rearing, they seemed quite amazed; and could give no information upon the subject of them. Persons, however, of great respectability had been called as witnesses, who had not seen the treatment of the Negros as he had now described it. He knew what was due to their characters; but yet he must enter a general protest against their testimony. "I have often," says Mr. Ross, "attended both governors and admirals upon tours in the island of Jamaica. But it was not likely that these should see much distress upon these occasions. The White People and drivers would take care not to harrow up the feelings of strangers of distinction by the exercise of the whip, or the infliction of punishments, at that particular time; and, even if there were any disgusting objects, it was natural to suppose that they would then remove them." But in truth these gentlemen had given proofs, that they were under the influence of prejudice. Some of them had declared the abolition would ruin the West Indies. But this, it was obvious, must depend upon the practicability of keeping up the stock without African supplies; and yet, when they were questioned upon this point, they knew nothing about it. Hence they had formed a conclusion without premises. Their evidence, too, extended through a long series of years. They had never seen one instance of ill-treatment in the time; and yet, in the same breath, they talked of the amended situation of the slaves; and that they were now far better off than formerly. One of them, to whom his country owed much, stated that a master had been sentenced to death for the murder of his own slave; but his recollection must have failed him; for the murder of a slave was not then a capital crime. A respectable governor also had delivered an opinion to the same effect; but, had he looked into the statute-book of the island, he would have found his error. It had been said that the slaves were in a better state than the peasantry of this country. But when the question was put to Mr. Ross, did he not answer, "that he would not insult the latter by a comparison?" It had been said again, that the Negros were happier as slaves, than they would be if they were to be made free. But how was this reconcileable with facts? If a Negro under extraordinary circumstances had saved money enough, did he not always purchase his release from this situation of superior happiness by the sacrifice of his last shilling? Was it not also notorious, that the greatest reward, which a master thought he could bestow upon his slave for long and faithful services, was his freedom? It had been said again, that Negros, when made free, never returned to their own country. But was not the reason obvious? If they could even reach their own homes in safety, their kindred and connections might be dead. But would they subject themselves to be kidnapped again; to be hurried once more on board a slave-ship; and again to endure and survive the horrors of the passage? Yet the love of their native country had been proved beyond a doubt. Many of the witnesses had heard them talk of it in terms of the strongest affection. Acts of suicide too were frequent in the islands, under the notion that these afforded them the readiest means of getting home. Conformably with this, Captain Wilson had maintained, that the funerals, which in Africa were accompanied with lamentations and cries of sorrow, were attended, in the West Indies, with every mark of joy. He had now, he said, made good his first proposition, That in the condition of the slaves there were causes, which should lead us to expect, that there would be a considerable decrease among them. This decrease in the island of Jamaica was but trifling, or, rather, it had ceased some years ago; and if there was a decrease, it was only on the imported slaves. It appeared from the privy council report, that from 1698 to 1730 the decrease was three and a half per cent.; from 1730 to 1755 it was two and a half per cent.; from 1755 to 1768 it was lessened to one and three quarters; and from 1768 to 1788 it was not more than one per cent.: this last decrease was not greater than could be accounted for from hurricanes and consequent famines, and from the number of imported Africans who perished in the seasoning. The latter was a cause of mortality, which, it was evident, would cease with the importations. This conclusion was confirmed in part by Dr. Anderson, who, in his testimony to the Assembly of Jamaica, affirmed, that there was a considerable increase on the properties of the island, and particularly in the parish in which he resided. He would now proceed to establish his second proposition, That from henceforth a very considerable increase might be expected. This he might support by a close reasoning upon the preceding facts. But the testimony of his opponents furnished him with sufficient evidence. He could show, that wherever the slaves were treated better than ordinary, there was uniformly an increase in their number. Look at the estates of Mr. Willock, Mr. Ottley, Sir Ralph Payne, and others. In short, he should weary the committee, if he were to enumerate the instances of plantations, which were stated in the evidence to have kept up their numbers only from a little variation in their treatment. A remedy also had been lately found for a disorder, by which vast numbers of infants had been formerly swept away. Mr. Long also had laid it down, that whenever the slaves should bear a certain proportion to the produce, they might be expected to keep up their numbers; but this proportion they now exceeded. The Assembly of Jamaica had given it also as their opinion, "that when once the sexes should become nearly equal in point of number, there was no reason to suppose, that the increase of the Negros by generation would fall short of the natural increase of the labouring poor in Great Britain." But the inequality, here spoken of, could only exist in the case of the African Negros, of whom more males were imported than females; and this inequality would be done away soon after the trade should cease. But the increase of the Negros, where their treatment was better than ordinary, was confirmed in the evidence by instances in various parts of the world. From one end of the continent of America to the other their increase had been undeniably established; and this to a prodigious extent, though they had to contend with the severe cold of the winter, and in some parts with noxious exhalations in the summer. This was the case also in the settlement of Bencoolen in the East Indies. It appeared from the evidence of Mr. Botham, that a number of Negros, who had been imported there in the same disproportion of the sexes as in West India cargoes, and who lived under the same disadvantages, as in the Islands, of promiscuous intercourse and general prostitution, began, after they had been settled a short time, annually to increase. But to return to the West Indies.--A slave-ship had been many years ago wrecked near St. Vincent's. The slaves on board, who escaped to the island, were without necessaries; and, besides, were obliged to maintain a war with the native Caribbs: yet they soon multiplied to an astonishing number; and, according to Mr. Ottley, they were now on the increase. From Sir John Dalrymple's evidence it appeared, that the domestic slaves in Jamaica, who were less worked than those in the field, increased; and from Mr. Long, that the free Blacks and Mulattoes there increased also. But there was an instance which militated against these facts (and the only one in the evidence) which he would now examine. Sir Archibald Campbell had heard, that the Maroons in Jamaica in the year 1739 amounted to three thousand men fit to carry arms. This supposed their whole number to have been about twelve thousand. But in the year 1782, after a real muster by himself, he found, to his great astonishment, that the fighting men did not then amount to three hundred. Now the fact was, that Sir Archibald Campbell's first position was founded upon rumour only; and was not true. For according to Mr. Long, the Maroons were actually numbered in 1749; when they amounted to about six hundred and sixty in all, having only a hundred and fifty men fit to carry arms. Hence, if when mustered by Sir Archibald Campbell he found three hundred fighting men, they must from 1749 to 1782 have actually doubled their population. Was it possible, after these instances, to suppose that the Negros could not keep up their numbers, if their natural increase were made a subject of attention? The reverse was proved by sound reasoning. It had been confirmed by unquestionable facts. It had been shown, that they had increased In every situation, where there was the slightest circumstance in their favour. Where there had been any decrease, it was stated to be trifling; though no attention appeared to have been paid to the subject. This decrease had been gradually lessening; and, whenever a single cause of it had been removed (many still remaining), it had altogether ceased. Surely these circumstances formed a body of proof, which was irresistible. He would now speak of the consequences of the abolition of the Slave-trade in other points of view; and first, as to its effects upon our marine. An abstract of the Bristol and Liverpool muster-rolls had been just laid before the House. It appeared from this, that in three hundred and fifty slave-vessels, having on board twelve thousand two hundred and sixty-three persons, two thousand six hundred and forty-three were lost in twelve months; whereas in four hundred and sixty-two West Indiamen, having on board seven thousand six hundred and forty persons, one hundred and eighteen only were lost in seven months. This rather exceeded the losses stated by Mr. Clarkson. For their barbarous usage on board these ships, and for their sickly and abject state in the West Indies, he would appeal to Governor Parry's letter; to the evidence of Mr. Ross; to the assertion of Mr. B. Edwards, an opponent; and to the testimony of Captains Sir George Yonge and Thompson, of the Royal Navy. He would appeal also to what Captain Hall, of the Navy, had given in evidence. This gentleman, after the action of the twelfth of April, impressed thirty hands from a slave-vessel, whom he selected with the utmost care from a crew of seventy; and he was reprimanded by his admiral, though they could scarcely get men to bring home the prizes, for introducing such wretches to communicate disorders to the fleet. Captain Smith of the Navy had also declared, that when employed to board Guineamen to impress sailors, although he had examined near twenty vessels, he never was able to get more than two men, who were fit for service; and these turned out such inhuman fellows, although good seamen, that he was obliged to dismiss them from the ship. But he hoped the committee would attend to the latter part of the assertion of Captain Smith. Yes:--this trade, while it injured the constitutions of our sailors, debased their morals. Of this, indeed, there was a barbarous illustration in the evidence. A slaveship had struck on some shoals, called the Morant Keys, a few leagues from the east end of Jamaica. The crew landed in their boats, with arms and provisions, leaving the slaves on board in their irons. This happened in the night. When morning came, it was discovered that the Negros had broken their shackles, and were busy in making rafts; upon which afterwards they placed the women and children. The men attended upon the latter, swimming by their side, whilst they drifted to the island where the crew were. But what was the sequel? From an apprehension that the Negros would consume the water and provision, which had been landed, the crew resolved to destroy them as they approached the shore. They killed between three and four hundred. Out of the whole cargo only thirty-three were saved, who, on being brought to Kingston, were sold. It would, however, be to no purpose, he said, to relieve the Slave-trade from this act of barbarity. The story of the Morant Keys was paralleled by that of Captain Collingwood; and were you to got rid of these, another, and another, would still present itself, to prove the barbarous effects of this trade on the moral character. But of the miseries of the trade there was no end. Whilst he had been reading out of the evidence the story of the Morant Keys, his eye had but glanced on the opposite page, and it met another circumstance of horror. This related to what were called the refuse-slaves. Many people in Kingston were accustomed to speculate in the purchase of those, who were left after the first day's sale. They then carried them out into the country, and retailed them. Mr. Ross declared, that he had seen these landed in a very wretched state, sometimes in the agonies of death, and sold as low as for a dollar, and that he had known several expire in the piazzas of the vendue-master. The bare description superseded the necessity of any remark. Yet these were the familiar incidents of the Slave-trade. But he would go back to the seamen. He would mention another cause of mortality, by which many of them lost their lives. In looking over Lloyd's list, no less than six vessels were cut off by the irritated natives in one year, and the crews massacred. Such instances were not unfrequent. In short, the history of this commerce was written throughout in characters of blood. He would next consider the effects of the abolition on those places where it was chiefly carried on. But would the committee believe, after all the noise which had been made on this subject, that the Slave-trade composed but a thirtieth part of the export trade of Liverpool, and that of the trade of Bristol it constituted a still less proportion? For the effects of the abolition on the general commerce of the kingdom, he would refer them to Mr. Irving; from whose evidence it would appear, that the medium value of the British manufactures, exported to Africa, amounted only to between four and five hundred thousand pounds annually. This was but a trifling sum. Surely the superior capital, ingenuity, application, and integrity, of the British manufacturer would command new markets for the produce of his industry, to an equal amount, when this should be no more. One branch, however, of our manufactures, he confessed, would suffer from the abolition; and that was the manufacture of gunpowder; of which the nature of our connection with Africa drew from us as much as we exported to all the rest of the world besides. He hastened, however, to another part of the argument. Some had said, "We wish to put an end to the Slave-trade, but we do not approve of your mode. Allow more time. Do not displease the legislatures of the West India islands. It is by them that those laws must be passed, and enforced, which will secure your object." Now he was directly at issue with these gentlemen. He could show, that the abolition was the only certain mode of amending the treatment of the slaves, so as to secure their increase; and that the mode which had been offered to him, was at once inefficacious and unsafe. In the first place, how could any laws, made by these legislatures, be effectual, whilst the evidence of Negros was in no case admitted against White men? What was the answer from Grenada? Did it not state, "that they who were capable of cruelty, would in general be artful enough to prevent any but slaves from being witnesses of the fact?" Hence it had arisen, that when positive laws had been made, in some of the islands, for the protection of the slaves, they had been found almost a dead letter. Besides, by what law would you enter into every man's domestic concerns, and regulate the interior economy of his house and plantation? This would be something more than a general excise. Who would endure such a law? And yet on all these and innumerable other minutiae must depend the protection of the slaves, their comforts, and the probability of their increase. It was universally allowed, that the Code Noir had been utterly neglected in the French islands, though there was an officer appointed by the crown to see it enforced. The provisions of the Directorio had been but of little more avail in the Portuguese settlements, or the institution of a Protector of the Indians, in those of the Spaniards. But what degree of protection the slaves would enjoy might be inferred from the admission of a gentleman, by whom this very plan of regulation had been recommended, and who was himself no ordinary person, but a man of discernment and legal resources. He had proposed a limitation of the number of lashes to be given by the master or overseer for one offence. But, after all, he candidly confessed, that his proposal was not likely to be useful, while the evidence of slaves continued inadmissible against their masters. But he could even bring testimony to the inefficacy of such regulations. A wretch in Barbadoes had chained a Negro girl to the floor, and flogged her till she was nearly expiring. Captain Cook and Major Fitch, hearing her cries, broke open the door and found her. The wretch retreated from their resentment, but cried out exultingly, "that he had only given her thirty-nine lashes (the number limited by law) at any one time; and that he had only inflicted this number three times since the beginning of the night," adding, "that he would prosecute them for breaking open his door; and that he would flog her to death for all any one, if he pleased; and that he would give her the fourth thirty-nine before morning." But this plan of regulation was not only inefficacious, but unsafe. He entered his protest against the fatal consequences, which might result from it. The Negros were creatures like ourselves; but they were uninformed, and their moral character was debased. Hence they were unfit for civil rights. To use these properly they must be gradually restored to that level, from which they had been so unjustly degraded. To allow them an appeal to the laws, would be to awaken in them a sense of the dignity of their nature. The first return of life, after a swoon, was commonly a convulsion, dangerous at once to the party himself and to all around him. You should first prepare them for the situation, and not bring the situation to them. To be under the protection of the law was in fact to be a freeman; and to unite slavery and freedom in one condition was impracticable. The abolition, on the other hand, was exactly such an agent as the case required. All hopes of supplies from the Coast being cut off, breeding would henceforth become a serious object of attention; and the care of this, as including better clothing and feeding, and milder discipline, would extend to innumerable particulars, which an act of assembly could neither specify nor enforce. The horrible system, too, which many had gone upon, of working out their slaves in a few years, and recruiting their gangs with imported Africans, would receive its death-blow from the abolition of the trade. The opposite would force itself on the most unfeeling heart. Ruin would stare a man in the face, if he were not to conform to it. The non-resident owners would then express themselves in the terms of Sir Philip Gibbs, "that he should consider it as the fault of his manager, if he were not to keep up the number of his slaves." This reasoning concerning the different tendencies of the two systems was self-evident. But facts were not wanting to confirm it. Mr. Long had remarked, that all the insurrections and suicides in Jamaica had been found among the imported slaves, who, not having lost the consciousness of civil rights, which they had enjoyed in their own country, could not brook the indignities to which they were subjected in the West Indies. An instance in point was afforded also by what had lately taken place in the island of Dominica. The disturbance there had been chiefly occasioned by some runaway slaves from the French islands. But what an illustration was it of his own doctrine to say, that the slaves of several persons, who had been treated, with kindness, were not among the number of the insurgents on that occasion! But when persons coolly talked of putting an end to the Slave-trade through the medium of the West India legislatures, and of gradual abolition, by means of regulations, they surely forgot the miseries which this horrid traffic occasioned in Africa during every moment of its continuance. This consideration was conclusive with him, when called upon to decide whether the Slave-trade should be tolerated for a while, or immediately abolished. The divine law against murder was absolute and unqualified. Whilst we were ignorant of all these things, our sanction of them might, in some measure, be pardoned. But now, when our eyes were opened, could we tolerate them for a moment, unless we were ready at once to determine, that gain should be our God, and, like the heathens of old, were prepared to offer up human victims at the shrine of our idolatry? This consideration precluded also the giving heed for an instant to another plea, namely, that if we were to abolish the trade it would be proportionably taken up by other nations. But, whatever other nations did, it became Great Britain, in every point of view, to take a forward part. One half of this guilty commerce had been carried on by her subjects. As we had been great in our crime, we should be early in our repentance. If Providence had showered his blessings upon us in unparalleled abundance, we should show ourselves grateful for them by rendering them subservient to the purposes for which they were intended. There would be a day of retribution, wherein we should have to give an account of all those talents, faculties, and opportunities, with which we had been intrusted. Let it not then appear, that our superior power had been employed to oppress our fellow-creatures, and our superior light to darken the creation of God. He could not but look forward with delight to the happy prospects which opened themselves to his view in Africa from the abolition of the Slave-trade; when a commerce, justly deserving that name, should be established with her; not like that, falsely so called, which now subsisted, and which all who were interested for the honour of the commercial character (though there were no superior principle) should hasten to disavow. Had this trade indeed been ever so profitable, his decision would have been in no degree affected by that consideration. "Here's the smell of blood on the hand still, and all the perfumes of Arabia cannot sweeten it." He doubted, whether it was not almost an act of degrading condescension to stoop to discuss the question in the view of commercial interest. On this ground, however, he was no less strong than on every other. Africa abounded with productions of value, which she would gladly exchange for our manufactures, when these were not otherwise to be obtained: and to what an extent her demand might then grow exceeded almost the powers of computation. One instance already existed of a native king, who being debarred by his religion the use of spirituous liquors, and therefore not feeling the irresistible temptation to acts of rapine which they afforded to his countrymen, had abolished the Slave-trade throughout all his dominions, and was encouraging an honest industry. For his own part, he declared that, interested as he might be supposed to be in the final event of the question, he was comparatively indifferent as to the present decision of the House upon it. Whatever they might do, the people of Great Britain, he was confident, would abolish the Slave-trade when, as would then soon happen, its injustice and cruelty should be fairly laid before them. It was a nest of serpents, which would never have existed so long, but for the darkness in which they lay hid. The light of day would now be let in on them, and they would vanish from the sight. For himself, he declared he was engaged in a work, which he would never abandon. The consciousness of the justice of his cause would carry him forward, though he were alone; but he could not but derive encouragement from considering with whom he was associated. Let us not, he said, despair. It is a blessed cause; and success, ere long, will crown our exertions. Already we have gained one victory. We have obtained for these poor creatures the recognition of their human nature[A], which, for a while, was most shamefully denied them. This is the first fruits of our efforts. [Footnote A: This point was actually obtained by the evidence before the House of Commons; for, after this, we heard no more of them as an inferior race.] Let us persevere, and our triumph will be complete. Never, never, will we desist, till we have wiped away this scandal from the Christian name; till we have released ourselves from the load of guilt under which we at present labour; and till we have extinguished every trace of this bloody traffic, which our posterity, looking back to the history of these enlightened times, will scarcely believe had been suffered to exist so long, a disgrace and a dishonour to our country. He then moved, that the chairman be instructed to move for leave to bring in a bill to prevent the further importation of slaves into the British colonies in the West Indies. Colonel Tarleton immediately rose up, and began by giving an historical account of the trade from the reign of Elizabeth to the present time. He then proceeded to the sanction, which parliament had always given it. Hence it could not then be withdrawn without a breach of faith. Hence, also, the private property embarked in it was sacred, nor could it be invaded, unless an adequate compensation were given in return. They, who had attempted the abolition of the trade, were led away by a mistaken humanity. The Africans themselves had no objection to its continuance. With respect to the Middle Passage, he believed the mortality there to be on an average only five in the hundred; whereas in regiments, sent out to the West Indies, the average loss in the year was about ten and a half per cent. The Slave-trade was absolutely necessary, if we meant to carry on our West India commerce; for many attempts had been made to cultivate the lands in the different islands by White labourers; but they had always failed. It had also the merit of keeping up a number of seamen in readiness for the state. Lord Rodney had stated this as one of its advantages on the breaking out of a war. Liverpool alone could supply nine hundred and ninety-three seamen annually. He would now advert to the connections dependent upon the African trade. It was the duty of the House to protect the planters, whose lives had been, and were then, exposed to imminent dangers, and whose property had undergone an unmerited depreciation. To what could this depreciation, and to what could the late insurrection at Dominica, be imputed, which had been saved from horrid carnage and midnight-butchery only by the adventitious arrival of two British regiments? They could only be attributed to the long delayed question of the abolition of the Slave-trade; and if this question were to go much longer unsettled, Jamaica would be endangered also. To members of landed property he would observe, that the abolition would lessen the commerce of the country, and increase the national debt and the number of their taxes. The minister, he hoped, who patronized this wild scheme, had some new pecuniary resource in store to supply the deficiencies it would occasion. To the mercantile members he would speak thus: "A few ministerial men in the house had been gifted with religious inspiration, and this had been communicated to other eminent personages in it: these enlightened philanthropists had discovered, that it was necessary, for the sake of humanity and for the honour of the nation, that the merchants concerned in the African trade should be persecuted, notwithstanding the sanction of their trade by parliament, and notwithstanding that such persecution must aggrandize the rivals of Great Britain." Now how did this language sound? It might have done in the twelfth century, when all was bigotry and superstition. But let not a mistaken humanity, in these enlightened times, furnish a colourable pretext for any injurious attack on property or character. These things being considered, he should certainly oppose the measure in contemplation. It would annihilate a trade, whose exports amounted to eight hundred thousand pounds annually, and which employed a hundred and sixty vessels and more than five thousand seamen. It would destroy also the West India trade, which was of the annual value of six millions; and which employed one hundred and sixty thousand tons of shipping, and seamen in proportion. These were objects of too much importance to the country to be hazarded on an unnecessary speculation. Mr. Grosvenor then rose. He complimented the humanity of Mr. Wilberforce, though he differed from him on the subject of his motion. He himself had read only the privy council report; and he wished for no other evidence. The question had then been delayed two years. Had the abolition been so clear a point as it was said to be, it could not have needed either so much evidence or time. He had heard a good deal about kidnapping and other barbarous practices. He was sorry for them. But these were the natural consequences of the laws of Africa; and it became us as wise men to turn them to our own advantage. The Slave-trade was certainly not an amiable trade. Neither was that of a butcher; but yet it was a very necessary one. There was great reason to doubt the propriety of the present motion. He had twenty reasons for disapproving it. The first was, that the thing was impossible. He needed not therefore to give the rest. Parliament, indeed, might relinquish the trade. But to whom? To foreigners, who would continue it, and without the humane regulations, which were applied to it by his country-men. He would give advice to the house on this subject in the words, which the late Alderman Beckford used on a different occasion: "Meddle not with troubled waters: they will be found to be bitter waters, and the waters of affliction." He again admitted, that the Slave-trade was not an amiable trade; but he would not gratify his humanity at the expense of the interests of his country; and he thought we should not too curiously inquire into the unpleasant circumstances, which attended it. Mr. James Martin succeeded Mr. Grosvenor. He said, he had been long aware, how much self-interest could pervert the judgment; but he was not apprized of the full power of it, till the Slave-trade became a subject of discussion. He had always conceived, that the custom of trafficking in human beings had been incautiously begun, and without any reflection upon it; for he never could believe that any man, under the influence of moral principles, could suffer himself knowingly to carry on a trade replete with fraud, cruelty, and destruction; with destruction, indeed, of the worst kind, because it subjected the sufferers to a lingering death. But he found now, that even such a trade as this could be sanctioned. It was well observed in the petition from the University of Cambridge against the Slave-trade, "that a firm belief in the Providence of a benevolent Creator assured them that no system, founded on the oppression of one part of mankind, could be beneficial to another." He felt much concern, that in an assembly of the representatives of a country, boasting itself zealous not only for the preservation of its own liberties, but for the general rights of mankind, it should be necessary to say a single word upon such a subject; but the deceitfulness of the human heart was such, as to change the appearances of truth, when it stood in opposition to self-interest. And he had to lament that even among those, whose public duty it was to cling to the universal and eternal principles of truth, justice, and humanity, there were found some, who could defend that which was unjust, fraudulent, and cruel. The doctrines he had heard that evening, ought to have been reserved for times the most flagrantly profligate and abandoned. He never expected then to learn, that the everlasting laws of righteousness were to give way to imaginary, political, and commercial expediency; and that thousands of our fellow-creatures were to be reduced to wretchedness, that individuals might enjoy opulence, or government a revenue. He hoped that the house for the sake of its own character would explode these doctrines with all the marks of odium they deserved; and that all parties would join in giving a death-blow to this execrable trade. The royal family would, he expected, from their known benevolence, patronize the measure. Both Houses of Parliament were now engaged in the prosecution of a gentleman accused of cruelty and oppression in the East. But what were these cruelties, even if they could be brought home to him, when compared in number and degree to those, which were every day and every hour committed in the abominable traffic, which was now under their discussion! He considered therefore both Houses of Parliament as pledged upon this occasion. Of the support of the bishops he could have no doubt; because they were to render Christianity amiable, both by their doctrine and their example. Some of the inferior clergy had already manifested a laudable zeal in behalf of the injured Africans. The University of Cambridge had presented a petition to that house worthy of itself. The Sister-university had, by one of her representatives, given sanction to the measure. Dissenters of various denominations, but particularly the Quakers, (who to their immortal honour had taken the lead in it,) had vied with those of the established church in this amiable contest. The first counties, and some of the largest trading towns, in the kingdom had espoused the cause. In short, there had never been more unanimity in the country, than in this righteous attempt. With such support, and with so good a cause, it would be impossible to fail. Let but every man stand forth, who had at any time boasted of himself as an Englishman, and success would follow. But if he were to be unhappily mistaken as to the result, we must give up the name of Englishmen. Indeed, if we retained it, we should be the greatest hypocrites in the world; for we boasted of nothing more than of our own liberty; we manifested the warmest indignation at the smallest personal insult; we professed liberal sentiments towards other nations: but to do these things, and to continue such a traffic, would be to deserve the hateful character before mentioned. While we could hardly bear the sight of any thing resembling slavery, even as a punishment, among ourselves, how could we consistently entail an eternal slavery upon others? It had been frequently, but most disgracefully said, that "we should not be too eager in setting the example. Let the French begin it." Such a sentiment was a direct libel upon the ancient, noble, and generous character of this nation. We ought, on the other hand, under the blessings we enjoyed, and under the high sense we entertained of our own dignity as a people, to be proudly fearful, lest other nations should anticipate our design, and obtain the palm before us. It became us to lead. And if others should not follow us, it would belong to them to glory in the shame of trampling under foot the laws of reason, humanity, and religion. This motion, he said, came strongly recommended to them. The honourable member, who introduced it, was justly esteemed for his character. He was the representative too of a noble county, which had been always ready to take the lead in every public measure for the good of the community, or for the general benefit of mankind; of a county too, which had had the honour of producing a Saville. Had his illustrious predecessor been alive, he would have shown the same zeal on the same occasion. The preservation of the unalienable rights of all his fellow-creatures was one of the chief characteristics of that excellent citizen. Let every member in that house imitate him in the purity of their conduct and in the universal rectitude of their measures, and they would pay the same tender regard to the rights of other countries as to those of their own; and, for his part, he should never believe those persons to be sincere, who were loud in their professions of love of liberty, if he saw that love confined to the narrow circle of one community, which ought to be extended to the natural rights of every inhabitant of the globe. But we should be better able to bring ourselves up to this standard of rectitude, if we were to put ourselves into the situation of those, whom we oppressed. This was the rule of our religion. What should we think of those, who should say, that it was their interest to injure us? But he hoped we should not deceive ourselves so grossly as to imagine, that it was our real interest to oppress any one. The advantages to be obtained by tyranny were imaginary, and deceitful to the tyrant; and the evils they caused to the oppressed were grievous, and often insupportable. Before he sat down, he would apologize, if he had expressed himself too warmly on this subject. He did not mean to offend any one. There were persons connected with the trade, some of whom he pitied on account of the difficulty of their situation. But he should think most contemptibly of himself as a man, if he could talk on this traffic without emotion. It would be a sign to him of his own moral degradation. He regretted his inability to do justice to such a cause; but if, in having attempted to forward it, he had shown the weakness of his powers, he must console himself with the consideration, that he felt more solid comfort in having acted up to sound public principles, than he could have done from the exertion of the most splendid talents against the conviction of his conscience. Mr. Burdon rose, and said he was embarrassed to know how to act. Mr. Wilberforce had in a great measure met his ideas. Indeed he considered himself as much in his hands; but he wished to go gradually to the abolition of the trade. He wished to give time to the planters to recruit their stocks. He feared the immediate abolition might occasion a monopoly among such of them as were rich, to the detriment of the less affluent. We ought, like a judicious physician, to follow nature, and to promote a gradual recovery. Mr. Francis rose next. After complimenting Mr. Wilberforce, he stated that personal considerations might appear to incline him to go against the side which he was about to take, namely, that of strenuously supporting his motion. Having himself an interest in the West Indies, he thought that what he should submit to the house would have the double effect of evidence and argument; and he stated most unequivocally his opinion, that the abolition of the Slave-trade would tend materially to the benefit of the West Indies. The arguments urged by the honourable mover were supported by the facts, which he had adduced from the evidence, more strongly than any arguments had been supported in any speech be had ever heard. He wished, however, that more of these facts had been introduced into the debate; for they were apt to have a greater effect upon the mind than mere reasonings, however just and powerful. Many had affirmed that the Slave-trade was politic and expedient; but it was worthy of remark, that no man had ventured to deny that it was criminal. Criminal, however, be declared it to be in the highest degree; and he believed it was equally impolitic. Both its inexpediency and injustice had been established by the honourable mover. He dwelt much on the unhappy situation of the Negros in the West Indies, who were without the protection of government or of efficient laws, and subject to the mere caprice of men, who were at once the parties, the judges, and the executioners. He instanced an overseer, who, having thrown a Negro into a copper of boiling cane-juice for a trifling offence, was punished merely by the loss of his place, and by being obliged to pay the value of the slave. He stated another instance of a girl of fourteen, who was dreadfully whipped for coming too late to her work. She fell down motionless after it; and was then dragged along the ground, by the legs, to an hospital; where she died. The murderer, though tried, was acquitted by a jury of his peers, upon the idea, that it was impossible a master could destroy his own property. This was a notorious fact. It was published in the Jamaica Gazette; and it had even happened since the question of the abolition had been started. The only argument used against such cruelties, was the master's interest in the slave. But he urged the common cruelty to horses, in which their drivers had an actual interest with the drivers of men in the colonies, as a proof that this was no security. He had never heard an instance of a master being punished for the murder of his slave. The propagation of the slaves was so far from being encouraged, that it was purposely checked, because it was thought more profitable and less troublesome to buy a full grown Negro, than to rear a child. He repeated that his interest might have inclined him to the other side of the question; but he did not choose to compromise between his interest and his duty; for, if he abandoned his duty, he should not be happy in this world; nor should he deserve happiness in the next. Mr. Pitt rose, but he said it was only to move, seeing that justice could not be done to the subject this evening, that the further consideration of the question might be adjourned to the next. Mr. Cawthorne and Colonel Tarleton both opposed this motion, and Colonel Phipps and Lord Carhampton supported it. Mr. Fox said, the opposition to the adjournment was uncandid and unbecoming. They who opposed it well knew that the trade could not bear discussion. Let it be discussed; and, although there were symptoms of predetermination in some, the abolition of it must be carried. He would not believe that there could be found in the House of Commons men of such hard hearts and inaccessible understandings, as to vote an assent to its continuance, and then go home to their families, satisfied with their vote, after they had been once made acquainted with the subject. Mr. Pitt agreed with Mr. Fox, that from a full discussion of the subject there was every reason to augur, that the abolition would be adopted. Under the imputations, with which this trade was loaded, gentlemen should remember, they could not do justice to their own characters, unless they stood up, and gave their reasons for opposing the abolition of it. It was unusual also to force any question of such importance to so hasty a decision. For his own part, it was his duty, from the situation in which he stood, to state fully his own sentiments on the question; and, however exhausted both he and the house might be, he was resolved it should not pass without discussion, as long as he had strength to utter a word upon it. Every principle, that could bind a man of honour and conscience, would impel him to give the most powerful support he could to the motion for the abolition. The motion of Mr. Pitt was assented to, and the house was adjourned accordingly. On the next day the subject was resumed. Sir William Yonge rose, and said, that, though he differed from the honourable mover, he had much admired his speech of the last evening. Indeed the recollection of it made him only the more sensible of the weakness of his own powers; and yet, having what he supposed to be irrefragable arguments in his possession, he felt emboldened to proceed. And, first, before he could vote for the abolition, he wished to be convinced, that, whilst Britain were to lose, Africa would gain. As for himself, he hated a traffic in men, and joyfully anticipated its termination at no distant period under a wise system of regulation: but he considered the present measure as crude and indolent; and as precluding better and wiser measures, which were already in train. A British Parliament should attain not only the best ends, but by the wisest means. Great Britain might abandon her share of this trade, but she could not abolish it. Parliament was not an assembly of delegates from the powers of Europe, but of a single nation. It could not therefore suppress the trade; but would eventually aggravate those miseries incident to it, which every enlightened man must acknowledge, and every good man must deplore. He wished the traffic for ever closed. But other nations were only waiting for our decision, to seize the part we should leave them. The new projects of these would be intemperate; and, in the zeal of rivalship, the present evils of comparatively sober dealing would be aggravated beyond all estimate in this new and heated auction of bidders for life and limb. We might indeed by regulation give an example of new principles of policy and of justice; but if we were to withdraw suddenly from this commerce, like Pontius Pilate, we should wash our hands indeed, but we should not be innocent as to the consequences. On the first agitation of this business, Mr. Wilberforce had spoken confidently of other nations following our example. But had not the National Assembly of France referred the Slave-trade to a select committee, and had not that committee rejected the measure of its abolition? By the evidence it appeared, that the French and Spaniards were then giving bounties to the Slave-trade; that Denmark was desirous of following it; that America was encouraging it; and that the Dutch had recognized its necessity, and recommended its recovery. Things were bad enough indeed as they were, but he was sure this rivalship would make them worse. He did not admit the disorders imputed to the trade in all their extent. Pillage and kidnapping could not be general, on account of the populousness of the country; though too frequent instances of it had been proved. Crimes might be falsely imputed. This he admitted; but only partially. Witchcraft, he believed, was the secret of poisoning, and therefore deserved the severest punishment. That there should be a number of convictions for adultery, where polygamy was a custom, was not to be wondered at. But he feared, if a sale of these criminals were to be done away, massacre would be the substitute. An honourable member had asked on a former day, "Is it an excuse for robbery, to say that another would have committed it?" But the Slave-trade did not necessarily imply robbery. Not long since Great Britain sold her convicts, indirectly at least, to slavery. But he was no advocate for the trade. He wished it had never been begun; and that it might soon terminate. But the means were not adequate to the end proposed. Mr. Burke had said on a former occasion, "that in adopting the measure we must prepare to pay the price of our virtue." He was ready to pay his share of that price. But the effect of the purchase must be first ascertained. If they did not estimate this, it was not benevolence, but dissipation. Effects were to be duly appreciated; and though statesmen might rest every thing on a plausible manifesto of cause, the humbler moralist, meditating peace and goodwill towards men, would venture to call such statesmen responsible for consequences. In regard to the colonies, a sudden abolition would be oppression. The legislatures there should be led, and not forced, upon this occasion. He was persuaded they would act wisely to attain the end pointed out to them. They would see, that a natural increase of their Negros might be effected by an improved system of legislation; and that in the result the Slave-trade would be no longer necessary. A sudden abolition, also, would occasion dissatisfaction there. Supplies were necessary for some time to come. The Negros did not yet generally increase by birth. The gradation of ages was not yet duly filled. These and many defects might be remedied, but not suddenly. It would cause also distress there. The planters, not having their expected supplies, could not discharge their debts. Hence their slaves would be seized and sold. Nor was there any provision in this case against the separation of families, except as to the mother and infant child. These separations were one of the chief outrages complained of in Africa. Why then should we promote them in the West Indies? The confinement on board a slave-ship had been also bitterly complained of; but, under distraint for the debt of a master, the poor slave might linger in a gaol twice or thrice the time of the Middle Passage. He again stated his abhorrence of the Slave-trade; but as a resource, though he hoped but a temporary one, it was of such consequence to the existence of the country, that it could not suddenly be withdrawn. The value of the imports and exports between Great Britain and the West Indies, including the excise and customs, was between seven and eight millions annually; and the tonnage of the ships employed, about an eighth of the whole tonnage of these kingdoms. He complained that in the evidence the West India planters had been by no means spared. Cruel stories had been hastily and lightly told against them. Invidious comparisons had been made to their detriment. But it was well known, that one of our best comic writers, when he wished to show benevolence in its fairest colours, had personified it in the character of the West Indian. He wished the slave might become as secure as the apprentice in this country: but it was necessary that the alarms concerning the abolition of the Slave-trade should, in the mean time, be quieted; and he trusted that the good sense and true benevolence of the House would reject the present motion. Mr. Matthew Montagu rose, and said a few words in support of the motion; and after condemning the trade in the strongest manner, he declared, that as long as he had life, he would use every faculty of his body and mind in endeavouring to promote its abolition. Lord John Russell succeeded Mr. Montagu. He said, that although slavery was repugnant to his feelings, he must vote against the abolition, as visionary and delusive. It was a feeble attempt without the power to serve the cause of humanity. Other nations would take up the trade. Whenever a bill of wise regulation should be brought forward, no man would be more ready than himself to lend his support. In this way the rights of humanity might be asserted without injury to others. He hoped he should not incur censure by his vote; for, let his understanding be what it might, he did not know that he had, notwithstanding the assertions of Mr. Fox, an inaccessible heart. Mr. Stanley (agent for the islands) rose next. He felt himself called upon, he said, to refute the many calumnies, which had for years been propagated against the planters, (even through the medium of the pulpit, which should have been employed to better purposes,) and which had at length produced the mischievous measure, which was now under the discussion of the House. A cry had been sounded forth, and from one end of the kingdom to the other; as if there had never been a slave from Adam to the present time. But it appeared to him to have been the intention of Providence, from the very beginning, that one set of men should be slaves to another. This truth was as old as it was universal. It was recognized in every history, under every government, and in every religion. Nor did the Christian religion itself, if the comments of Dr. Halifax, bishop of Gloucester, on a passage in St. Paul's epistle to the Corinthians were true, show more repugnance to slavery than any other. He denied that the slaves were procured in the manner which had been described. It was the custom of all savages to kill their prisoners; and the Africans ought to be thankful that they had been carried safe into the British colonies. As to the tales of misery in the Middle Passage, they were gross falsehoods; and as to their treatment in the West Indies, he knew personally that it was, in general, indulgent and humane. With regard to promoting their increase by any better mode of treatment, he wished gentlemen would point it out to him. As a planter he would thank them for it. It was absurd to suppose that he and others were blind to their own interest. It was well known that one Creole slave was worth two Africans: and their interest therefore must suggest to them that the propagation of slaves was preferable to the purchase of imported Negros, of whom one half very frequently died in the seasoning. He then argued the impossibility of beasts doing the work of the plantations. He endeavoured to prove that the number of these, adequate to this purpose, could not be supplied with food; and after having made many other observations, which, on account of the lowness of his voice, could not be heard, he concluded by objecting to the motion. Mr. William Smith rose. He wondered how the last speaker could have had the boldness to draw arguments from scripture in support of the Slave-trade. Such arguments could be intended only to impose on those, who never took the trouble of thinking for themselves. Could it be thought for a moment, that the good sense of the House could be misled by a few perverted or misapplied passages, in direct opposition to the whole tenor and spirit of Christianity; to the theory, he might say, of almost every religion, which had ever appeared in the world? Whatever might have been advanced, every body must feel, that the Slave-trade could not exist an hour, if that excellent maxim, "to do to others as we would wish that others should do to us," had its proper influence on the conduct of men. Nor was Mr. Stanley more happy in his argument of the antiquity and universality of slavery. Because a practice had existed, did it necessarily follow that it was just? By this argument every crime might be defended from the time of Cain. The slaves of antiquity, however, were in a situation far preferable to that of the Negros in the West Indies. A passage in Macrobius, which exemplified this in the strongest manner, was now brought to his recollection. "Our ancestors," says Macrobius, "denominated the master father of the family, and the slave domestic, with the intention of removing all odium from the condition of the master, and all contempt from that of the servant." Could this language be applied to the present state of West India slavery? It had been complained of by those who supported the trade, that they laboured under great disadvantages by being obliged to contend against the most splendid abilities which the House could boast. But he believed they laboured under one, which was worse, and for which no talents could compensate; he meant the impossibility of maintaining their ground fairly on any of those principles, which every man within those walls had been accustomed, from his infancy, to venerate as sacred. He and his friends too laboured under some disadvantages. They had been charged with fanaticism. But what had Mr. Long said, when he addressed himself to those planters, who were desirous of attempting improvements on their estates? He advised them "not to be diverted by partial views, vulgar prejudices, or the ridicule which might spring from weak minds, from a benevolent attention to the public good." But neither by these nor by other charges were he or his friends to be diverted from the prosecution of their purpose. They were convinced of the rectitude and high importance of their object; and were determined never to desist from pursuing it, till it should be attained. But they had to struggle with difficulties far more serious. The West Indian interest, which opposed them, was a collected body; of great power, affluence, connections, and respectability. Artifice had also been employed. Abolition and emancipation had been so often confounded, and by those who knew better, that it must have been purposely done, to throw an odium on the measure which was now before them. The abolitionists had been also accused as the authors of the late insurrection in Dominica. A revolt had certainly taken place in that island. But revolts there had occurred frequently before. Mr. Stanley himself, in attempting to fix this charge upon them, had related circumstances, which amounted to their entire exculpation. He had said, that all was quiet there till the disturbances in the French islands; when some Negros from the latter had found their way to Dominica, and had excited the insurrection in question. He had also said, that the Negros in our own islands hated the idea of the abolition; for they thought, as no new labourers were to come in, they should be subjected to increased hardships. But if they and their masters hated this same measure, how was this coincidence of sentiment to give birth to insurrection? Other fallacies also had been industriously propagated. Of the African trade it had been said, that the exports amounted to a million annually; whereas, from the report on the table, it had on an average amounted to little more than half a million; and this included the articles for the purchase of African produce, which were of the value of a hundred and forty thousand pounds. The East Indian trade, also, had been said to depend on the West Indian and the African. In the first place, it had but very little connection with the former at all. Its connection with the latter was principally on account of the saltpetre, which it furnished for making gunpowder. Out of nearly three millions of pounds in weight of the latter article, which had been exported in a year from this country, one half had been sent to Africa alone; for the purposes, doubtless, of maintaining peace, and encouraging civilization among its various tribes! Four or five thousand persons were said also to depend for their bread in manufacturing guns for the African trade; and these, it was pretended, could not make guns of another sort.--But where lay the difficulty?--One of the witnesses had unravelled it. He had seen the Negros maimed by the bursting of these guns. They killed more from the butt than from the muzzle. Another had stated, that on the sea-coast the natives were afraid to fire a trade-gun. In the West Indian commerce two hundred and forty thousand tons of shipping were stated to be employed. But here deception intruded itself again. This statement included every vessel, great and small, which went from the British West Indies to America, and to the foreign islands; and, what was yet more unfair, all the repeated voyages of each throughout the year. The shipping, which could only fairly be brought into this account, did but just exceed half that which had been mentioned. In a similar manner had the islands themselves been overrated. Their value had been computed, for the information of the privy council, at thirty-six millions; but the planters had estimated them at seventy. The truth, however, might possibly lie between these extremes. He by no means wished to depreciate their importance; but he did not like that such palpable misrepresentations should go unnoticed. An honourable member (Colonel Tarleton) had disclaimed every attempt to interest the feelings of those present, but had desired to call them to reason and accounts. He also desired (though it was a question of feeling, if any one ever was,) to draw the attention of the committee to reason and accounts--to the voice of reason instead of that of prejudice, and to accounts in the place of idle apprehensions. The result, he doubted not, would be a full persuasion, that policy and justice were inseparable upon this, as upon every other occasion. The same gentleman had enlarged on the injustice of depriving the Liverpool merchants of a business, on which were founded their honour and their fortunes. On what part of it they founded their honour he could not conjecture, except from those passages in the evidence, where it appeared, that their agents in Africa had systematically practised every fraud and villainy, which the meanest and most unprincipled cunning could suggest, to impose on the ignorance of those with whom they traded. The same gentleman had also lamented, that the evidence had not been taken upon oath. He himself lamented it too. Numberless facts had been related by eye-witnesses, called in support of the abolition, so dreadfully atrocious, that they appeared incredible; and seemed rather, to use the expression of Ossian, like "the histories of the days of other times." These procured for the trade a species of acquittal, which it could not have obtained, had the committee been authorised to administer an oath. He apprehended also, in this case, that some other persons would have been rather more guarded in their testimony. Captain Knox would not then perhaps have told the committee, that six hundred slaves could have had comfortable room at night in his vessel of about one hundred and forty tons; when there could have been no more than five feet six inches in length, and fifteen inches in breadth, to about two thirds of his number. The same gentleman had also dwelt upon the Slave-trade as a nursery for seamen. But it had appeared by the muster-rolls of the slave-vessels, then actually on the table of the House, that more than a fifth of them died in the service, exclusive of those who perished when discharged in the West Indies; and yet he had been instructed by his constituents to maintain this false position. His reasoning, too, was very curious; for, though numbers might die, yet as one half, who entered, were landsmen, seamen were continually forming. Not to dwell on the expensive cruelty of forming these seamen by the yearly destruction of so many hundreds, this very statement was flatly contradicted by the evidence. The muster-rolls from Bristol stated the proportion of landmen in the trade there at one twelfth, and the proper officers of Liverpool itself at but a sixteenth, of the whole employed. In the face again of the most glaring facts, others had maintained that the mortality in these vessels did not exceed that of other trades in the tropical climates. But the same documents, which proved that twenty-three per cent, were destroyed in this wasting traffic, proved that in West India ships only about one and a half per cent. were lost, including every casualty.--But the very men, under whose management this dreadful mortality had been constantly occurring, had coolly said, that much of it might be avoided by proper regulations. How criminal then were they, who, knowing this, had neither publicly proposed, nor in their practice adopted, a remedy! The average loss of the slaves on board, which had been calculated by Mr. Wilberforce at twelve and a half per cent., had been denied. He believed this calculation, taking in all the circumstances connected with it, to be true; but that for years not less than one tenth had so perished, he would challenge those concerned in the traffic to disprove. Much evidence had been produced on the subject; but the voyages had been generally selected. There was only one, who had disclosed the whole account. This was Mr. Anderson of London, whose engagements in this trade had been very inconsiderable. His loss had only amounted to three per cent.; but, unfortunately for the Slave-traders of Liverpool, his vessel had not taken above three fourths of that number in proportion to the tonnage which they had stated to be necessary to the very existence of their trade. An honourable member (Mr. Grosvenor) had attributed the protraction of this business to those who had introduced it. But from whom did the motion for further evidence (when that of the privy council was refused) originate, but from the enemies of the abolition? The same gentleman had said, it was impossible to abolish the trade; but where was the impossibility of forbidding the further importation of slaves into our own colonies? and beyond this the motion did not extend. The latter argument had also been advanced by Sir William Yonge and others. But allowing it its full force, would there be no honour in the dereliction of such a commerce? Would it be nothing publicly to recognise great and just principles? Would our example be nothing?--Yes: every country would learn, from our experiment, that American colonies could be cultivated without the necessity of continual supplies equally expensive and disgraceful. But we might do more than merely lay down principles or propose examples. We might, in fact, diminish the evil itself immediately by no inconsiderable part,--by the whole of our own supply: and here he could not at all agree with the honourable baronet, in what seemed to him a commercial paradox, that the taking away from an open trade by far the largest customer, and the lessening of the consumption of the article, would increase both the competition and the demand, and of course all those mischiefs, which it was their intention to avert. That the civilization of the Africans was promoted, as had been asserted, by their intercourse with the Europeans, was void of foundation, as had appeared from the evidence. In manners and dishonesty they had indeed assimilated with those who frequented their coasts. But the greatest industry and the least corruption of morals were in the interior, where they were out of the way of this civilizing connection. To relieve Africa from famine, was another of the benign reasons which had been assigned for continuing the trade. That famines had occurred there, he did not doubt; but that they should annually occur, and with such arithmetical exactness as to suit the demands of the Slave-trade, was a circumstance most extraordinary; so wonderful indeed, that, could it once be proved, he should consider it as a far better argument in favour of the divine approbation of that trade, than any which had ever yet been produced. As to the effect of the abolition on the West Indies, it would give weight to every humane regulation which had been made; by substituting a certain and obvious interest, in the place of one depending upon chances and calculation. An honourable member (Mr. Stanley) had spoken of the impossibility of cultivating the estates there without further importations of Negros; and yet, of all the authorities he had brought to prove his case, there was scarcely one which might not be pressed to serve more or less effectually against him. Almost every planter he had named had found his Negros increase under the good treatment he had professed to give them; and it was an axiom, throughout the whole evidence, that wherever they were well used importations were not necessary. It had been said indeed by some adverse witnesses, that in Jamaica all possible means had been used to keep up the stock by breeding; but how preposterous was this, when it was allowed that the morals of the slaves had been totally neglected, and that the planters preferred buying a larger proportion of males than females! The misfortune was, that prejudice and not reason was the enemy to be subdued. The prejudices of the West Indians on these points were numerous and inveterate. Mr. Long himself had characterized them on this account, in terms which he should have felt diffident in using. But Mr. Long had shown his own prejudices also. For he justified the chaining of the Negros on board the slave-vessels, on account of "their bloody, cruel, and malicious dispositions." But hear his commendation of some of the Aborigines of Jamaica, "who had miserably perished in caves, whither they had retired to escape the tyranny of the Spaniards. These," says he, "left a glorious monument of their having disdained to survive the loss of their liberty and their country." And yet this same historian could not perceive that this natural love of liberty might operate as strongly and as laudably in the African Negro, as in the Indian of Jamaica. He was concerned to acknowledge that these prejudices were yet further strengthened by resentment against those who had taken an active part in the abolition of the Slave-trade. But it was never the object of these to throw a stigma on the whole body of the West Indians; but to prove the miserable effects of the trade. This it was their duty to do; and if, in doing this, disgraceful circumstances had come out, it was not their fault; and it must never be forgotten that they were true. That the slaves were exposed to great misery in the islands, was true as well from inference as from facts: for what might not be expected from the use of arbitrary power, where the three characters of party, judge, and executioner were united! The slaves too were more capable on account of their passions, than the beasts of the field, of exciting the passions of their tyrants. To what a length the ill treatment of them might be carried, might be learnt from the instance which General Tottenham mentioned to have seen in the year 1780 in the streets of Bridge Town, Barbadoes: "A youth about nineteen (to use his own words in the evidence), entirely naked, with an iron collar about his neck, having five long projecting spikes. His body both before and behind, was covered with wounds. His belly and thighs were almost cut to pieces, with running ulcers all over them; and a finger might have been laid in some of the weals. He could not sit down, because his hinder part was mortified; and it was impossible for him to lie down, on account of the prongs of his collar." He supplicated the General for relief. The latter asked, who had punished him so dreadfully? The youth answered, his master had done it. And because he could not work, this same master, in the same spirit of perversion, which extorts from scripture a justification of the Slave-trade, had fulfilled the apostolic maxim, that he should have nothing to eat. The use he meant to make of this instance was to show the unprotected state of the slaves. What must it be, where such an instance could pass not only unpunished, but almost unregarded! If, in the streets of London, but a dog were to be seen lacerated like this miserable man, how would the cruelty of the wretch be execrated, who had thus even abused a brute! The judicial punishments also inflicted upon the Negro showed the low estimation, in which, in consequence of the strength of old customs and deep-rooted prejudices, they were held. Mr. Edwards, in his speech to the Assembly at Jamaica, stated the following case, as one which had happened in one of the rebellions there. Some slaves surrounded the dwelling-house of their mistress. She was in bed with a lovely infant. They deliberated upon the means of putting her to death in torment. But in the end one of them reserved her for his mistress; and they killed her infant with an axe before her face. "Now," says Mr. Edwards, (addressing himself to his audience,) "you will think that no torments were too great for such horrible excesses. Nevertheless I am of a different opinion. I think that death, unaccompanied with cruelty, should be the utmost exertion of human authority over our unhappy fellow-creatures." Torments, however, were always inflicted in these cases. The punishment was gibbeting alive, and exposing the delinquents to perish by the gradual effects of hunger, thirst, and a parching sun; in which situation they were known to suffer for nine days, with a fortitude scarcely credible, never uttering a single groan. But horrible as the excesses might have been, which occasioned these punishments, it muse be remembered, that they were committed by ignorant savages, who had been dragged from all they held most dear; whose patience had been exhausted by a cruel and loathsome confinement during their transportation; and whose resentment had been wound up to the highest pitch of fury by the lash of the driver. But he would now mention another instance, by way of contrast, out of the evidence. A child on board a slave-ship, of about ten months old, took sulk and would not eat. The captain flogged it with a cat; swearing that he would make it eat, or kill it. From this and other ill-treatment the child's legs swelled. He then ordered some water to be made hot to abate the swelling. But even his tender mercies were cruel; for the cook, on putting his hand into the water, said it was too hot. Upon this the captain swore at him, and ordered the feet to be put in. This was done. The nails and skin came off. Oiled cloths were then put round them. The child was at length tied to a heavy log. Two or three days afterwards, the captain caught it up again; and repeated that he would make it eat, or kill it. He immediately flogged it again, and in a quarter of an hour it died. But, after the child was dead, whom should the barbarian select to throw it overboard, but the wretched mother? In vain she started from the office. He beat her, till he made her take up the child and carry it to the side of the vessel. She then dropped it into the sea, turning her head the other way that she might not see it. Now it would naturally be asked, Was not this captain also gibbered alive? Alas! although the execrable, barbarity of the European exceeded that of the Africans before mentioned, almost as much as his opportunities of instruction had been greater than theirs, no notice whatsoever was taken of this horrible action; and a thousand similar cruelties had been committed in this abominable trade with equal impunity: but he would say no more. He should vote for the abolition, not only as it would do away all the evils complained of in Africa and the Middle Passage; but as it would be the most effectual means of ameliorating the condition of those unhappy persons, who were still to continue slaves in the British colonies. Mr. Courtenay rose. He said, he could not but consider the assertion of Sir William Yonge as a mistake, that the Slave-trade, if abandoned by us, would fall into the hands of France. It ought to be recollected, with what approbation the motion for abolishing it, made by the late Mirabeau, had been received; although the situation of the French colonies might then have presented obstacles to carrying the measure into immediate execution. He had no doubt, if parliament were to begin, so wise and enlightened a body as the National Assembly would follow the example. But even if France were not to relinquish the trade, how could we, if justice required its abolition, hesitate as to our part of it? The trade, it had been said, was conducted upon the principles of humanity. Yes: we rescued the Africans from what we were pleased to call their wretched situation in their own country, and then we took credit for our humanity; because, after having killed one half of them in the seasoning, we substituted what we were again pleased to call a better treatment than that which they would have experienced at home. It had been stated that the principle of war among savages was a general massacre. This was not true. They frequently adopted the captives into their own families; and, so far from massacring the women and children, they often gave them the protection which the weakness of their age and sex demanded. There could be no doubt, that the practice of kidnapping prevailed in Africa. As to witchcraft, it had been made a crime in the reign of James the First in this country, for the purpose of informations; and how much more likely were informations to take place in Africa, under the encouragement afforded by the Slave-trade! This trade, it had been said, was sanctioned by twenty-six acts of parliament. He did not doubt but fifty-six might be found, by which parliament had sanctioned witchcraft; of the existence of which we had now no belief whatever. It had been said by Mr. Stanley, that the pulpit had been used as an instrument of attack on the Slave-trade. He was happy to learn it had been so well employed; and he hoped the Bishops would rise up in the House of Lords, with the virtuous indignation which became them, to abolish a traffic so contrary to humanity, justice, and religion. He entreated every member to recollect, that on his vote that night depended the happiness of millions; and that it was then in his power to promote a measure, of which the benefits would be felt over one whole quarter of the globe; that the seeds of civilization might, by the present bill, be sown all over Africa; and the first principles of humanity be established in regions, where they had hitherto been excluded by the existence of this execrable trade. Lord Carysfort rose, and said, that the great cause of the abolition had flourished by the manner in which it had been opposed. No one argument of solid weight has been adduced against it. It had been shown, but never disproved, that the colonial laws were inadequate to the protection of the slaves; that the punishments of the latter were most unmerciful; that they were deprived of the right of self-defence against any White man; and, in short, that the system was totally repugnant to the principles of the British constitution. Colonel Phipps followed Lord Carysfort. He denied that this was a question in which the rights of humanity and the laws of nature were concerned. The Africans became slaves in consequence of the constitution of their own governments. These were founded in absolute despotism. Every subject was an actual slave. The inhabitants were slaves to the great men; and the great men were slaves to the Prince. Prisoners of war, too, were by law subject to slavery. Such being the case, he saw no more cruelty in disposing of them to our merchants, than to those of any other nation. Criminals also in cases of adultery and witchcraft became slaves by the same laws. It had been said, that there were no regulations in the West Indies for the protection of slaves. There were several; though he was ready to admit, that more were necessary; and he would go in this respect as far as humanity might require. He had passed ten months in Jamaica, where he had never seen any such acts of cruelty as had been talked of. Those which he had seen were not exercised by the Whites, but by the Blacks. The dreadful stories, which had been told, ought no more to fix a general stigma upon the planters, than the story of Mrs. Brownrigg to stamp this polished metropolis with the general brand of murder. There was once a haberdasher's wife (Mrs. Nairne) who locked up her apprentice girl, and starved her to death; but did ever any body think of abolishing haberdashery on this account? He was persuaded the Negros in the West Indies were cheerful and happy. They were fond of ornaments; but it was not the characteristic of miserable persons to show a taste for finery. Such a taste, on the contrary, implied a cheerful and contented mind. He was sorry to differ from his friend Mr. Wilberforce, but he must oppose his motion. Mr. Pitt rose, and said, that from the first hour of his having had the honour to sit in parliament down to the present, among all the questions, whether political or personal, in which it had been his fortune to take a share, there had never been one in which his heart was so deeply interested as in the present; both on account of the serious principles it involved, and the consequences connected with it. The present was not a mere question of feeling. The argument, which ought in his opinion to determine the committee, was, that the Slave-trade was unjust. It was therefore such a trade as it was impossible for him to support, unless it could be first proved to him, that there were no laws of morality binding upon nations; and that it was not the duty of a legislature to restrain its subjects from invading the happiness of other countries, and from violating the fundamental principles of justice. Several had stated the impracticability of the measure before them. They wished to see the trade abolished; but there was some necessity for continuing it, which they conceived to exist. Nay, almost every one, he believed, appeared to wish, that the further importation of slaves might cease; provided it could be made out, that the population of the West Indies could be maintained without it. He proposed therefore to consider the latter point; for, as the impracticability of keeping up the population there appeared to operate as the chief objection, he trusted that, by showing it to be ill founded, he should clear away all other obstacles whatever; so that, having no ground either of justice or necessity to stand upon, there could be no excuse left to the committee for resisting the present motion. He might reasonably, however, hope that they would not reckon any small or temporary disadvantage, which might arise from the abolition, to be a sufficient reason against it. It was surely not any slight degree of expediency, nor any small balance of profit, nor any light shades of probability on the one side, rather than on the other, which would determine them on this question. He asked pardon even for the supposition. The Slave-trade was an evil of such magnitude, that there must be a common wish in the committee at once to put an end to it, if there were no great and serious obstacles. It was a trade, by which multitudes of unoffending nations were deprived of the blessings of civilization, and had their peace and happiness invaded. It ought therefore to be no common expediency, it ought to be nothing less than the utter ruin of our islands, which it became those to plead, who took upon them to defend the continuance of it. He could not help thinking that the West India gentlemen had manifested an over great degree of sensibility as to the point in question; and that their alarms had been unreasonably excited upon it. He had examined the subject carefully for himself; and he would now detail those reasons, which had induced him firmly to believe, not only that no permanent mischief would follow from the abolition; but not even any such temporary inconvenience, as could be stated to be a reason for preventing the House from agreeing to the motion before them; on the contrary, that the abolition itself would lay the foundation for the more solid improvement of all the various interests of those colonies. In doing this he should apply his observations chiefly to Jamaica, which contained more than half the slaves in the British West Indies; and if he should succeed in proving that no material detriment could arise to the population there, this would afford so strong a presumption with respect to the other islands, that the House could no longer hesitate, whether they should, or should not, put a stop to this most horrid trade. In the twenty years ending in 1788, the annual loss of slaves in Jamaica (that is, the excess of deaths above the births,) appeared to be one in the hundred. In a preceding period the loss was greater; and, in a period before that, greater still; there having been a continual gradation in the decrease through the whole time. It might fairly be concluded, therefore, that (the average loss of the last period being one per cent.) the loss in the former part of it would be somewhat more, and in the latter part somewhat less, than one per cent.; insomuch that it might be fairly questioned, whether, by this time, the births and deaths in Jamaica might not be stated as nearly equal. It was to be added, that a peculiar calamity, which swept away fifteen thousand slaves, had occasioned a part of the mortality in the last-mentioned period. The probable loss, therefore, now to be expected was very inconsiderable indeed. There was, however, one circumstance to be added, which the West India gentlemen, in stating this matter, had entirely overlooked; and which was so material, as clearly to reduce the probable diminution in the population of Jamaica down to nothing. In all the calculations he had referred to of the comparative number of births and deaths, all the Negros in the island were included. The newly imported, who died in the seasoning, made a part. But these swelled, most materially, the number of the deaths. Now as these extraordinary deaths would cease, as soon as the importations ceased, a deduction of them ought to be made from his present calculation. But the number of those, who thus died in the seasoning, would make up of itself nearly the whole of that one per cent., which had been stated. He particularly pressed an attention to this circumstance; for the complaint of being likely to want hands in Jamaica, arose from the mistake of including the present unnatural deaths, caused by the seasoning, among the natural and perpetual causes of mortality. These deaths, being erroneously taken into the calculations, gave the planters an idea, that the numbers could not be kept up. These deaths, which were caused merely by the Slave-trade, furnished the very ground, therefore, on which the continuance of that trade had been thought necessary. The evidence as to this point was clear; for it would be found in that dreadful catalogue of deaths, arising from the seasoning and the passage, which the House had been condemned to look into, that one half died. An annual mortality of two thousand slaves in Jamaica might be therefore charged to the importation; which, compared with the whole number on the island, hardly fell short of the whole one per cent. decrease. Joining this with all the other considerations, he would then ask, Could the decrease of the slaves in Jamaica be such--could the colonies be so destitute of means--could the planters, when by their own accounts they were establishing daily new regulations for the benefit of the slaves--could they, under all these circumstances, be permitted to plead that total impossibility of keeping up their number, which they had rested on, as being indeed the only possible pretext for allowing fresh importations from Africa? He appealed therefore to the sober judgment of all, whether the situation of Jamaica was such, as to justify a hesitation in agreeing to the present motion. It might be observed also, that, when the importations should stop, that disproportion between the sexes, which was one of the obstacles to population, would gradually diminish; and a natural order of things be established. Through the want of this natural order a thousand grievances were created, which it was impossible to define; and which it was in vain to think that, under such circumstances, we could cure. But the abolition of itself would work this desirable effect. The West Indians would then feel a near and urgent interest to enter into a thousand little details, which it was impossible for him to describe, but which would have the greatest influence on population. A foundation would thus be laid for the general welfare of the islands; a new system would rise up, the reverse of the old; and eventually both their general wealth and happiness would increase. He had now proved far more than he was bound to do; for, if he could only show that the abolition would not be ruinous, it would be enough. He could give up, therefore, three arguments out of four, through the whole of what he had said, and yet have enough left for his position. As to the Creoles, they would undoubtedly increase. They differed in this entirely from the imported slaves, who were both a burthen and a curse to themselves and others. The measure now proposed would operate like a charm; and, besides stopping all the miseries in Africa and the passage, would produce even more benefit in the West Indies than legal regulations could effect. He would now just touch upon the question of emancipation. A rash emancipation of the slaves would be mischievous. In that unhappy situation, to which our baneful conduct had brought ourselves and them, it would be no justice on either side to give them liberty. They were as yet incapable of it; but their situation might be gradually amended. They might be relieved from every thing harsh and severe; raised from their present degraded state; and put under the protection of the law. Till then, to talk of emancipation was insanity. But it was the system of fresh importations, which interfered with these principles of improvement; and it was only the abolition which could establish them. This suggestion had its foundation in human nature. Wherever the incentive of honour, credit, and fair profit appeared, energy would spring up; and when these labourers should have the natural springs of human action afforded them, they would then rise to the natural level of human industry. From Jamaica he would now go to the other islands. In Barbadoes the slaves had rather increased. In St. Kitts the decrease for fourteen years had been but three fourths per cent.; but here many of the observations would apply, which he had used in the case of Jamaica. In Antigua many had died by a particular calamity. But for this, the decrease would have been trifling. In Nevis and Montserrat there was little or no disproportion of the sexes; so that it might well be hoped, that the numbers would be kept up in these islands. In Dominica some controversy had arisen about the calculation; but Governor Orde had stated an increase of births above the deaths. From Grenada and St. Vincents no accurate accounts had been delivered in answer to the queries sent them; but they were probably not in circumstances less favourable than in the other islands. On a full review then, of the state of the Negro population in the West Indies, was there any serious ground of alarm from the abolition of the Slave-trade? Where was the impracticability, on which alone so many had rested their objections? Must we not blush at pretending, that it would distress our consciences to accede to this measure, as far as the question of the Negro population was concerned? Intolerable were the mischiefs of this trade, both in its origin and through every stage of its progress. To say that slaves could be furnished us by fair and commercial means was ridiculous. The trade sometimes ceased, as during the late war. The demand was more or less according to circumstances. But how was it possible, that to a demand so exceedingly fluctuating the supply should always exactly accommodate itself? Alas! we made human beings the subject of commerce; we talked of them as such; and yet we would not allow them the common principle of commerce, that the supply must accommodate itself to the consumption. It was not from wars, then, that the slaves were chiefly procured. They were obtained in proportion as they were wanted. If a demand for slaves arose, a supply was forced in one way or other; and it was in vain, overpowered as we then were with positive evidence, as well as the reasonableness of the supposition, to deny that by the Slave-trade we occasioned all the enormities which had been alleged against it. Sir William Yonge had said, that, if we were not to take the Africans from their country, they would be destroyed. But he had not yet read, that all uncivilized nations destroyed their captives. We assumed therefore what was false. The very selling of them implied this: for, if they would sell their captives for profit, why should they not employ them so as to receive a profit also? Nay, many of them, while there was no demand from the slave-merchants, were often actually so employed. The trade, too, had been suspended during the war; and it was never said, or thought, that any such consequence had then followed. The honourable baronet had also said in justification of the Slave-trade, that witchcraft commonly implied poison, and was therefore a punishable crime; but did he recollect that not only the individual accused, but that his whole family, were sold as slaves? The truth was, we stopped the natural progress of civilization in Africa. We cut her off from the opportunity of improvement. We kept her down in a state of darkness, bondage, ignorance and bloodshed. Was not this an awful consideration for this country? Look at the map of Africa, and see how little useful intercourse had been established on that vast continent! While other countries were assisting and enlightening each other, Africa alone had none of these benefits. We had obtained as yet only so much knowledge of her productions, as to show that there was a capacity for trade, which we checked. Indeed, if the mischiefs there were out of the question, the circumstance of the Middle Passage alone would, in his mind, be reason enough for the abolition. Such a scene as that of the slave-ships passing over with their wretched cargoes to the West Indies, if it could be spread before the eyes of the House, would be sufficient of itself to make them vote in favour of it; but when it could be added, that the interest even of the West Indies themselves rested on the accomplishment of this great event, he could not conceive an act of more imperious duty, than that, which was imposed upon the House, of agreeing to the present motion. Sir Archibald Edmonstone rose, and asked, whether the present motion went so far, as to pledge those who voted for it, to a total and immediate abolition. Mr. Alderman Watson rose next. He defended the Slave-trade as highly beneficial to the country, being one material branch of its commerce. But he could not think of the African trade without connecting it with the West Indian. The one hung upon the other. A third important branch also depended upon it; which was the Newfoundland fishery: the latter could not go on, if it were not for the vast quantity of inferior fish bought up for the Negros in the West Indies; and which was quite unfit for any other market. If therefore we destroyed the African, we destroyed the other trades. Mr. Turgot, he said, had recommended in the National Assembly of France the gradual abolition of the Slave-trade. He would therefore recommend it to the House to adopt the same measure, and to soften the rigours of slavery by wholesome regulations; but an immediate abolition he could not countenance. Mr. Fox at length rose. He observed that some expressions, which he had used on the preceding day, had been complained of as too harsh and severe. He had since considered them; but he could not prevail upon himself to retract them; because, if any gentleman, after reading the evidence on the table, and attending to the debate, could avow himself an abetter of this shameful traffic in human flesh, it could only be either from some hardness of heart, or some difficulty of understanding, which he really knew not how to account for. Some had considered this question as a question of political, whereas it was a question of personal, freedom. Political freedom was undoubtedly a great blessing; but, when it came to be compared with personal, it sank to nothing. To confound the two, served therefore to render all arguments on either perplexing and unintelligible. Personal freedom was the first right of every human being. It was a right, of which he who deprived a fellow-creature was absolutely criminal in so depriving him, and which he who withheld was no less criminal in withholding. He could not therefore retract his words with respect to any, who (whatever respect he might otherwise have for them) should, by their vote of that night, deprive their fellow-creatures of so great a blessing. Nay, he would go further. He would say, that if the House, knowing what the trade was by the evidence, did not by their vote mark to all mankind their abhorrence of a practice so savage, so enormous, so repugnant to all laws human and divine, they would consign their character to eternal infamy. That the pretence of danger to our West Indian islands from the abolition of the Slave-trade was totally unfounded, Mr. Wilberforce had abundantly proved: but if there were they, who had not been satisfied with that proof, was it possible to resist the arguments of Mr. Pitt on the same subject? It had been shown, on a comparison of the births and deaths in Jamaica, that there was not now any decrease of the slaves. But if there had been, it would have made no difference to him in his vote; for, had the mortality been ever so great there, he should have ascribed it to the system of importing Negros, instead of that of encouraging their natural increase. Was it not evident, that the planters thought it more convenient to buy them fit for work, than to breed them? Why, then, was this horrid trade to be kept up?--To give the planters, truly, the liberty of misusing their slaves, so as to check population; for it was from ill-usage only that, in a climate so natural to them, their numbers could diminish. The very ground, therefore, on which the planters rested the necessity of fresh importations, namely, the destruction of lives in the West Indies, was itself the strongest argument that could be given, and furnished the most imperious call upon parliament for the abolition of the trade. Against this trade innumerable were the charges. An honourable member, Mr. Smith, had done well to introduce those tragical stories, which had made such an impression upon the House. No one of these had been yet controverted. It had indeed been said, that the cruelty of the African captain to the child was too bad to be true; and we had been desired to look at the cross-examination of the witness, as if we should find traces of the falsehood of his testimony there. But his cross-examination was peculiarly honourable to his character; for after he had been pressed, in the closest manner, by some able members of the House, the only inconsistency they could fix upon him was, whether the fact had happened on the same day of the same month of the year 1764 or the year 1765. But it was idle to talk of the incredibility of such instances. It was not denied, that absolute power was exercised by the slave-captains; and if this was granted, all the cruelties charged upon them would naturally follow. Never did he hear of charges so black and horrible as those contained in the evidence on the table. They unfolded such a scene of cruelty, that if the House, with all their present knowledge of the circumstances, should dare to vote for its continuance, they must have nerves, of which he had no conception. We might find instances indeed, in history, of men violating the feelings of nature on extraordinary occasions. Fathers had sacrificed their sons and daughters, and husbands their wives; but to imitate their characters we ought to have not only nerves as strong as the two Brutuses, but to take care that we had a cause as good; or that we had motives for such a dereliction of our feelings as patriotic as those, which historians had annexed to these when they handed them to the notice of the world. But what was our motive in the case before us?--to continue a trade which was a wholesale sacrifice of a whole order and race of our fellow-creatures; which carried them away by force from their native country, in order to subject them to the mere will and caprice, the tyranny and oppression, of other human beings, for their whole natural lives, them and their posterity for ever!! O most monstrous wickedness! O unparalleled barbarity! And, what was more aggravating, this most complicated scene of robbery and murder which mankind had ever witnessed, had been honoured by the name of--trade. That a number of human beings should be at all times ready to be furnished as fair articles of commerce, just as our occasions might require, was absurd. The argument of Mr. Pitt on this head was unanswerable. Our demand was fluctuating: it entirely ceased at some times: at others it was great and pressing. How was it possible, on every sudden call, to furnish a sufficient return in slaves, without resorting to those execrable means of obtaining them, which were stated in the evidence? These were of three sorts, and he would now examine them. Captives in war, it was urged, were consigned either to death or slavery. This, however, he believed to be false in point of fact. But suppose it were true; Did it not become us, with whom it was a custom, founded in the wisest policy, to pay the captives a peculiar respect and civility, to inculcate the same principles in Africa? But we were so far from doing this, that we encouraged wars for the sake of taking, not men's goods and possessions, but men themselves; and it was not the war which was the cause of the Slave-trade, but the Slave-trade which was the cause of the war. If was the practice of the slave-merchants to try to intoxicate the African kings in order to turn them to their purpose. A particular instance occurred in the evidence of a prince, who, when sober, resisted their wishes; but in the moment of inebriety he gave the word for war, attacked the next village, and sold the inhabitants to the merchants. The second mode was kidnapping. He referred the House to various instances of this in the evidence: but there was one in particular, from which we might immediately infer the frequency of the practice. A Black trader had kidnapped a girl and sold her; but he was presently afterwards kidnapped and sold himself; and, when he asked the captain who bought him, "What! do you buy me, who am a great trader?" the only answer was, "Yes, I will buy you, or her, or any body else, provided any one will sell you;" and accordingly both the trader and the girl were carried to the West Indies and sold for slaves. The third mode of obtaining slaves was by crimes committed or imputed. One of these was adultery. But was Africa the place, where Englishmen, above all others, were to go to find out and punish adulterers? Did it become us to cast the first stone? It was a most extraordinary pilgrimage for a most extraordinary purpose! And yet upon this plea we justified our right of carrying off its inhabitants. The offence alleged next was witchcraft. What a reproach it was to lend ourselves to this superstition!--Yes: we stood by; we heard the trial; we knew the crime to be impossible; and that the accused must be innocent: but we waited in patient silence for his condemnation; and then we lent our friendly aid to the police of the country, by buying the wretched convict, with all his family; whom, for the benefit of Africa, we carried away also into perpetual slavery. With respect to the situation of the slaves in their transportation, he knew not how to give the House a more correct idea of the horrors of it, than by referring them to the printed section of the slave-ship; where the eye might see what the tongue must fall short in describing. On this dismal part of the subject he would not dwell. He would only observe, that the acts of barbarity, related of the slave-captains in these voyages, were so extravagant, that they had been attributed in some instances to insanity. But was not this the insanity of arbitrary power? Who ever read the facts recorded of Nero without suspecting he was mad? Who would not be apt to impute insanity to Caligula--or Domitian--or Caracalla--or Commodus--or Heliogabalus? Here were six Roman emperors, not connected in blood, nor by descent, who, each of them, possessing arbitrary power, had been so distinguished for cruelty, that nothing short of insanity could be imputed to them. Was not the insanity of the masters of slave-ships to be accounted for on the same principles? Of the slaves in the West Indies it had been said, that they were taken from a worse state to a better. An honourable member, Mr. W. Smith, had quoted some instances out of the evidence to the contrary. He also would quote one or two others. A slave under hard usage had run away. To prevent a repetition of the offence his owner sent for his surgeon, and desired him to cut off the man's leg. The surgeon refused. The owner, to render it a matter of duty in the surgeon, broke it. "Now," says he, "you must cut it off; or the man will die." We might console ourselves, perhaps, that this happened in a French island; but he would select another instance, which had happened in one of our own. Mr. Ross heard the shrieks of a female issuing from an outhouse; and so piercing, that he determined to see what was going on. On looking in he perceived a young female tied up to a beam by her wrists; entirely naked; and in the act of involuntary writhing and swinging; while the author of her torture was standing below her with a lighted torch in his hand, which he applied to all the parts of her body as it approached him. What crime this miserable woman had perpetrated he knew not; but the human mind could not conceive a crime warranting such a punishment. He was glad to see that these tales affected the House. Would they then sanction enormities, the bare recital of which made them shudder? Let them remember that humanity did not consist in a squeamish ear. It did not consist in shrinking and starting at such tales as these; but in a disposition of the heart to remedy the evils they unfolded. Humanity belonged rather to the mind than to the nerves. But, if so, it should prompt men to charitable exertion. Such exertion was necessary in the present case. It was necessary for the credit of our jurisprudence at home, and our character abroad. For what would any man think of our justice, who should see another hanged for a crime, which would be innocence itself, if compared with those enormities, which were allowed in Africa and the West Indies under the sanction of the British parliament? It had been said, however, in justification of the trade, that the Africans were less happy at home than in the Islands. But what right had we to be judges of their condition? They would tell us a very different tale, if they were asked. But it was ridiculous to say, that we bettered their condition, when we dragged them from every thing dear in life to the most abject state of slavery. One argument had been used, which for a subject so grave was the most ridiculous he had ever heard. Mr. Alderman Watson had declared the Slave-trade to be necessary on account of its connection with our fisheries. But what was this but an acknowledgment of the manner, in which these miserable beings were treated? The trade was to be kept up, with all its enormities, in order that there might be persons to consume the refuse fish from Newfoundland, which was too bad for any body else to eat. It had been said that England ought not to abolish the Slave-trade, unless other nations would also give it up. But what kind of morality was this? The trade was defensible upon no other principle than that of a highwayman. Great Britain could not keep it upon these terms. Mere gain was not a motive for a great country to rest on, as a justification of any measure. Honour was its superior; and justice was superior to honour. With regard to the emancipation of those in slavery, he coincided with Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Pitt; and upon this principle, that it might be as dangerous to give freedom at once to a man used to slavery, as, in the case of a man who had never seen day-light, to expose him all at once to the full glare of a meridian sun. With respect to the intellect and sensibility of the Africans, it was pride only, which suggested a difference between them and ourselves. There was a remarkable instance to the point in the evidence, and which he would quote. In one of the slave-ships was a person of consequence; a man, once high in a military station, and with a mind not insensible to the eminence of his rank. He had been taken captive and sold; and was then in the hold, confined promiscuously with the rest. Happening in the night to fall asleep, he dreamed that he was in his own country; high in honour and command; caressed by his family and friends; waited on by his domestics; and surrounded with all his former comforts in life. But awaking suddenly, and finding where he was, he was heard to burst into the loudest groans and lamentations on the miserable contrast of his present state; mixed with the meanest of his subjects; and subjected to the insolence of wretches a thousand times lower than himself in every kind of endowment. He appealed to the House, whether this was not as moving a picture of the miserable effects of the Slave-trade, as could be well imagined. There was one way, by which they might judge of it. Let them make the case their own. This was the Christian rule of judging; and, having mentioned Christianity, he was sorry to find that any should suppose, that it had given countenance to such a system of oppression. So far was this from being the case, that he thought it one of the most splendid triumphs of this religion, that it had caused slavery to be so generally abolished on its appearance in the world. It had done this by teaching us, among other beautiful precepts, that, in the sight of their Maker, all mankind were equal. Its influence appeared to have been more powerful in this respect than that of all the ancient systems of philosophy; though even in these, in point of theory, we might trace great liberality and consideration for human rights. Where could be found finer sentiments of liberty than in Demosthenes and Cicero? Where bolder assertions of the rights of mankind, than in Tacitus and Thucydides? But, alas! these were the holders of slaves! It was not so with those who had been converted to Christianity. He knew, however, that what he had been ascribing to Christianity had been imputed by others to the advances which philosophy had made. Each of the two parties took the merit to itself. The philosopher gave it to philosophy, and the divine to religion. He should not then dispute with either of them; but, as both coveted the praise, why should they not emulate each other by promoting this improvement in the condition of the human race? He would now conclude by declaring, that the whole country, indeed the whole civilized world, must rejoice that such a bill as the present had been moved for, not merely as a matter of humanity, but as an act of justice; for he would put humanity out of the case. Could it be called humanity to forbear from committing murder? Exactly upon this ground did the present motion stand; being strictly a question of national justice. He thanked Mr. Wilberforce for having pledged himself so strongly to pursue his object till it was accomplished; and, as for himself, he declared, that, in whatever situation he might ever be, he would use his warmest efforts for the promotion of this righteous cause. Mr. Stanley (the member for Lancashire) rose, and declared that, when he came into the house, he intended to vote against the abolition; but that the impression made both on his feelings and on his understanding was such, that he could not persist in his resolution. He was now convinced that the entire abolition of the Slave-trade was called for equally by sound policy and justice. He thought it right and fair to avow manfully this change in his opinion. The abolition, he was sure, could not long fail of being carried. The arguments for it were irresistible. The honourable Mr. Ryder said, that he came to the house, not exactly in the same circumstances as Mr. Stanley, but very undecided on the subject. He was, however, so strongly convinced by the arguments he had heard, that he was become equally earnest for the abolition. Mr. Smith (member for Pontefract) said, that he should not trouble the House at so late an hour, further than to enter his protest, in the most solemn manner, against this trade, which he considered as most disgraceful to the country, and contrary to all the principles of justice and religion. Mr. Sumner declared himself against the total, immediate, and unqualified abolition, which he thought would wound at least the prejudices of the West Indians, and might do mischief; but a gradual abolition should have his hearty support. Major Scott declared there was no member in the house, who would give a more independent vote upon this question than himself. He had no concern either in the African or West Indian trades; but in the present state of the finances of the country, he thought it would be a dangerous experiment to risk any one branch of our foreign commerce. As far as regulation would go, he would join in the measure. Mr. Burke said he would use but few words. He declared that he had for a long time had his mind drawn towards this great subject. He had even prepared a bill for the regulation of the trade, conceiving at that time that the immediate abolition of it was a thing hardly to be hoped for; but when he found that Mr. Wilberforce had seriously undertaken the work, and that his motion was for the abolition, which he approved much more than his own, he had burnt his papers; and made an offering of them in honour of his nobler proposition, much in the same manner as we read, that the curious books were offered up and burnt at the approach of the Gospel. He highly applauded the confessions of Mr. Stanley and Mr. Ryder. It would be a glorious tale for them to tell their constituents, that it was impossible for them, however prejudiced, if sent to hear discussion in that house, to avoid surrendering up their hearts and judgments at the shrine of reason. Mr. Drake said, that he would oppose the abolition to the utmost. We had by a want of prudent conduct lost America. The house should be aware of being carried away by the meteors with which they had been dazzled. The leaders, it was true, were for the abolition; but the minor orators, the dwarfs, the pigmies, he trusted, would that night carry the question against them. The property of the West Indians was at stake; and, though men might be generous with their own property, they should not be so with the property of others. Lord Sheffield reprobated the overbearing language, which had been used by some gentlemen towards others, who differed in opinion from them on a subject of so much difficulty as the present. He protested against a debate, in which he could trace nothing like reason; but, on the contrary, downright phrensy, raised perhaps by the most extraordinary eloquence. The abolition, as proposed, was impracticable. He denied the right of the legislature to pass a law for it. He warned the Chancellor of the Exchequer to beware of the day, on which the bill should pass, as the worst he had ever seen. Mr. Milnes declared, that he adopted all those expressions against the Slave-trade, which had been thought so harsh; and that the opinion of the noble lord had been turned in consequence of having become one of the members for Bristol. He quoted a passage from Lord Sheffield's pamphlet; and insisted that the separation of families in the West Indies, there complained of by himself, ought to have compelled him to take the contrary side of the question. Mr. Wilberforce made a short reply to some arguments in the course of the debate; after which, at half past three in the morning, the House divided. There appeared for Mr. Wilberforce's motion eighty-eight, and against it one hundred and sixty-three; so that it was lost by a majority of seventy-five votes. By this unfavourable division the great contest, in which we had been so long engaged, was decided. We were obliged to give way to superior numbers. Our fall, however, grievous as it was, was rendered more tolerable by the circumstance of having been prepared to expect it. It was rendered more tolerable also by other considerations; for we had the pleasure of knowing, that we had several of the most distinguished characters in the kingdom, and almost all the splendid talents of the House of Commons[A], in our favour. We knew too, that the question had not been carried against us either by evidence or by argument; but that we were the victims of the accidents and circumstances of the times. And as these considerations comforted us, when we looked forward to future operations on this great question, so we found great consolation as to the past, in believing, that, unless human constitutions were stronger then they really were, we could not have done more than we had done towards the furtherance of the cause. [Footnote A: It is a pity that no perfect list was ever made of this or of any other division in the House of Commons on this subject. I can give, however, the names of the following members, as having voted for Mr. Wilberforce's motion at this time. Mr. Pitt, Hon. R. Fitzpatrick, Mr. Fox, Sir William Dolben, Mr. Burke, Sir Henry Houghton, Mr. Grey, Sir Edward Lyttleton, Mr. Windham, Sir William Scott, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Samuel Thornton, Mr. Whitbread, Mr. Henry Thornton, Mr. Courtenay, Mr. Robert Thornton, Mr. Francis, Mr. Duncombe, Mr. Wilberforce, Mr. Martin, Mr. Ryder, Mr. Milnes, Mr. William Smith, Mr. Steele, Mr. John Smyth, Mr. Coke, Mr. Robert Smith, Mr. Elliott, Mr. Powys, Mr. Montagu, Lord Apsley, Mr. Bastard, Lord Bayham, Mr. Stanley, Lord Arden, Mr. Plumer, Lord Carysfort, Mr. Beaufoy, Lord Muncaster, Mr. I.H. Browne, Lord Barnard, Mr. G.N. Edwards, Lord North, Mr. W.M. Pitt, Lord Euston, Mr. Bankes. General Burgoyne] The committee for the abolition held a meeting soon after this our defeat. It was the most impressive I ever attended. The looks of all bespoke the feelings of their hearts. Little was said previously to the opening of the business; and, after it was opened, it was conducted with a kind of solemn dignity, which became the occasion. The committee, in the course of its deliberations, came to the following resolutions: That the thanks of this committee be respectfully given to the illustrious minority of the House of Commons, who lately stood forth the assertors of British justice and humanity, and the enemies of a traffic in the blood of man. That our acknowledgements are particularly due to William Wilberforce, esquire, for his unwearied exertions to remove this opprobrium of our national character; and to the right honourable William Pitt, and the right honourable Charles James Fox, for their virtuous and dignified cooperation in the same cause. That the solemn declarations of these gentlemen, and of Matthew Montagu and William Smith, esquires, that they will not relinquish, but with life, their struggle for the abolition of the Slave-trade, are not only highly honourable to themselves as Britons, as Statesmen, and as Christians, but must eventually, as the light of evidence shall be more and more diffused, be seconded by the good wishes of every man not immediately interested in the continuance of that detestable commerce. And, lastly, that anticipating the opposition they should have to sustain from persons trained to a familiarity with the rapine and desolation necessarily attendant on the Slave-trade, and sensible also of the prejudices which implicitly arise from long-established usages, this committee consider the late decision in the House of Commons as a delay, rather than a defeat. In addressing a free and enlightened nation on a subject, in which its justice, its humanity, and its wisdom are involved, they cannot despair of final success; and they do hereby, under an increasing conviction of the excellence of their cause, and inconformity to the distinguished examples before them, renew their firm protestation, that they will never desist from appealing to their countrymen, till the commercial intercourse with Africa shall cease to be polluted with the blood of its inhabitants. These resolutions were published, and they were followed by a suitable report. The committee, in order to strengthen themselves for the prosecution of their great work, elected Sir William Dolben, baronet, Henry Thornton, Lewis Alexander Grant, and Matthew Montagu, esquires, who were members of parliament, and Truman Harford, Josiah Wedgwood, jun. esquire, and John Clarkson, esquire, of the royal navy, as members of their own body; and they elected the Reverend Archdeacon Plymloy (now Corbett) an honorary and corresponding member, in consequence of the great services which he had rendered their cause in the shires of Hereford and Salop, and the adjacent counties of Wales. The several committees, established in the country, on receiving the resolutions and report as before mentioned, testified their sympathy in letters of condolence to that of London on the late melancholy occasion; and expressed their determination to support it as long as any vestiges of this barbarous traffic should remain. At length the session ended; and though, in the course of it, the afflicting loss of the general question had occurred, there was yet an attempt made by the abolitionists in parliament, which met with a better fate. The Sierra Leone company received the sanction of the legislature. The object of this institution was to colonize a small portion of the coast of Africa. They, who were to settle there, were to have no concern in the Slave-trade, but to discourage it as much as possible. They were to endeavour to establish a new species of commerce, and to promote cultivation in its neighbourhood by free labour. The persons more generally fixed upon for colonists, were such Negros, with their wives and families, as chose to abandon their habitations in Nova Scotia. These had followed the British arms in America; and had been settled there, as a reward for their services, by the British government. My brother, just mentioned to have been chosen a member of the committee, and who had essentially served the great cause of the abolition on many occasions, undertook a visit to Nova Scotia, to see if those in question were willing to undergo the change; and in that case to provide transports, and conduct them to Sierra Leone. This object he accomplished. He embarked more than eleven hundred persons in fifteen vessels, of all which he took the command. On landing them he became the first Governor of the new Colony. Having laid the foundation of it, he returned to England; when a successor was appointed. From that time many unexpected circumstances, but particularly devastations by the French in the beginning of the war, took place, which, contributed to ruin the trading company, which was attached to it. It is pleasing, however, to reflect, that though the object of the institution, as far as mercantile profit was concerned, thus failed, the other objects belonging to it were promoted. Schools, places of worship, agriculture, and the habits of civilized life, were established. Sierra Leone, therefore, now presents itself as the medium of civilization for Africa. And, in this latter point of view, it is worth all the treasure which has been lost in supporting it: for the Slave-trade, which was the great obstacle to this civilization, being now happily abolished, there is a metropolis, consisting of some hundreds of persons, from which may issue the seeds of reformation to this injured continent; and which, when sown, may be expected to grow into fruit without interruption. New schools may be transplanted from thence into the interior. Teachers, and travellers on discovery, may be sent from thence in various directions; who may return to it occasionally as to their homes. The natives too, able now to travel in safety, may resort to it from various parts. They may see the improvements which are going on from time to time. They may send their children to it for education. And thus it may become the medium[A] of a great intercourse between England and Africa, to the benefit of each other. [Footnote A: To promote this desirable end an association took place last year, called The African Institution, under the patronage of the Duke of Gloucester, as president, and of the friends to the African cause, particularly of such as were in parliament, and as belonged to the committee for the abolition of the Slave-trade.] CHAPTER IV. _Continuation from July 1791 to July 1792--Author travels round the kingdom again--Object of his journey--People begin to leave off the use of sugar--to form committees--and to send petitions to Parliament--Motion made in the House of Commons for the immediate abolition of the trade--Debates upon it--Abolition resolved upon, but not to commence till 1796--Resolution taken to the Lords--Latter determine upon hearing evidence--Evidence at length introduced--Further hearing of it postponed to the next session._ The defeat which we had just sustained, was a matter of great triumph to our opponents. When they considered the majority in the House of Commons in their favour, they viewed the resolutions of the committee, which have been detailed, as the last spiteful effort of a vanquished and dying animal, and they supposed that they had consigned the question to eternal sleep. The committee, however, were too deeply attached to the cause, vanquished as they were, to desert it; and they knew also too well the barometer of public feeling, and the occasion of its fluctuations, to despair. In the year 1787 the members of the House of Commons, as well as the people, were enthusiastic in behalf of the abolition of the trade. In the year 1788 the fair enthusiasm of the former began to fade. In 1789 it died. In 1790 prejudice started up as a noxious weed in its place. In 1791 this prejudice arrived at its growth. But to what were these changes owing?--To delay; during which the mind, having been gradually led to the question as a commercial, had been gradually taken from it as a moral object. But it was possible to restore the mind to its proper place. Add to which, that the nation had never deserted the cause during this whole period. It is much to the honour of the English people, that they should have continued to feel for the existence of an evil which was so far removed from their sight. But at this moment their feelings began to be insupportable. Many of them resolved, as soon as parliament had rejected the bill, to abstain from the use of West Indian produce. In this state of things a pamphlet, written by William Bell Crafton, of Tewksbury, and called "A Sketch of the Evidence, with a Recommendation on the Subject to the Serious Attention of People in general," made its appearance; and another followed it, written by William Fox, of London, "On the Propriety of abstaining from West India Sugar and Rum." These pamphlets took the same ground. They inculcated abstinence from these articles as a moral duty; they inculcated it as a peaceable and constitutional measure; and they laid before the reader a truth, which was sufficiently obvious, that if each would abstain, the people would have a complete remedy for this enormous evil in their own power. While these things were going on, it devolved upon me to arrange all the evidence on the part of the abolition under proper heads, and to abridge it into one volume. It was intended that a copy of this should be sent into different towns of the kingdom, that all might know, if possible, the horrors (as far as the evidence contained them) of this execrable trade; and as it was possible that these copies might lie in the places where they were sent, without a due attention to their contents, I resolved, with the approbation of the committee, to take a journey, and for no other purpose than personally to recommend that they might be read. The books, having been printed, were dispatched before me. Of this tour I shall give the reader no other account than that of the progress of the remedy, which the people were then taking into their own hands. And first I may observe, that there was no town, through which I passed, in which there was not some one individual who had left off the use of sugar. In the smaller towns there were from ten to fifty by estimation, and in the larger from two to five hundred, who had made this sacrifice to virtue. These were of all ranks and parties. Rich and poor, churchmen and dissenters, had adopted the measure. Even grocers had left off trading in the article, in some places. In gentlemen's families, where the master had set the example, the servants had often voluntarily followed it; and even children, who were capable of understanding the history of the sufferings of the Africans, excluded, with the most virtuous resolution, the sweets, to which they had been accustomed, from their lips. By the best computation I was able to make from notes taken down in my journey, no fewer than three hundred thousand persons had abandoned the use of sugar. Having travelled over Wales, and two thirds of England, I found it would be impossible to visit Scotland on the same errand. I had already, by moving upwards and downwards in parallel lines, and by intersecting these in the same manner, passed over six thousand miles. By the best calculation I could make, I had yet two thousand to perform. By means of almost incessant journeyings night and day, I had suffered much in my health. My strength was failing daily. I wrote therefore to the committee on this subject; and they communicated immediately with Dr. Dickson, who, on being applied to, visited Scotland in my stead. He consulted first with the committee at Edinburgh relative to the circulation of the Abridgement of the Evidence. He then pursued his journey, and, in conjunction with the unwearied efforts of Mr. Campbel Haliburton, rendered essential service to the cause for this part of the kingdom. On my return to London I found that the committee had taken into their own body T.F. Forster, B.M. Forster, and James West, esquires, as members; and that they had elected Hercules Ross, esquire, an honorary and corresponding member, in consequence of the handsome manner in which he had come forward as an evidence, and of the peculiar benefit which had resulted from his testimony to the cause. The effects of the two journeys by Dr. Dickson and myself were soon visible. The people could not bear the facts, which had been disclosed to them by the Abridgement of the Evidence. They were not satisfied, many of them, with the mere abstinence from sugar; but began to form committees to correspond with that of London. The first of these appeared at Newcastle upon Tyne, so early as the month of October. It consisted of the Reverend William Turner as chairman, and of Robert Ormston, William Batson, Henry Taylor, Ralph Bainbridge, George Brown, Hadwen Bragg, David Sutton, Anthony Clapham, George Richardson, and Edward Prowit. It received a valuable addition afterwards by the admission of many others. The second was established at Nottingham. The Reverend Jeremiah Bigsby became the president, and the Rev. G. Walker and J. Smith, and Mess. Dennison, Evans, Watson, Hart, Storer, Bott, Hawkesley, Pennington, Wright, Frith, Hall, and Wakefield, the committee. The third was formed at Glasgow, under the patronage of David Dale, Scott Moncrieff, Robert Graham, Professor Millar, and others. Other committees started up in their turn. At length public meetings began to take place, and after this petitions to be sent to parliament; and these so generally, that there was not a day for three months, Sundays excepted, in which five or six were not resolved upon in some places or other in the kingdom. Of the enthusiasm of the nation at this time none can form an opinion but they who witnessed it. There never was perhaps a season when so much virtuous feeling pervaded all ranks. Great pains were taken by interested persons in many places to prevent public meetings. But no efforts could avail. The current ran with such strength and rapidity, that it was impossible to stem it. In the city of London a remarkable instance occurred. The livery had been long waiting for the common council to begin a petition. But the lord mayor and several of the aldermen stifled it. The former, indignant at this conduct, insisted upon a common hall. A day was appointed; and, though the notice given of it was short, the assemblage was greater than had ever been remembered on any former occasion. Scarcely a liveryman was absent, unless sick, or previously engaged. The petition, when introduced, was opposed by those who had prevented it in the common council. But their voices were drowned amidst groans and hissings. It was shortly after carried; and it had not been signed more than half an hour, before it was within the walls of the House of Commons. The reason of this extraordinary dispatch was, that it had been kept back by intrigue so late, that the very hour, in which it was delivered to the House, was that in which Mr. Wilberforce was to make his new motion. And as no petitions were ever more respectable than those presented on this occasion, as far as they breathed the voice of the people, and as far as they were founded on a knowledge of the object which they solicited, so none were ever more numerous, as far as we have any record of such transactions. Not fewer than three hundred and ten were presented from England; one hundred and eighty-seven from Scotland; and twenty from Wales. Two other petitions also for the abolition came from England, but they were too late for delivery. On the other side of the question, one was presented from the town of Reading for regulation, in opposition to that for abolition from the same place. There were also four against abolition. The first of these was from certain persons at Derby in opposition to the other from that town. The second was from Stephen Fuller, esquire, as agent for Jamaica. The third from J. Dawson, esquire, a slave-merchant at Liverpool. And the fourth from the merchants, planters, mortgagees, annuitants, and others concerned in the West Indian colonies. Taking in all these statements, the account stood thus. For regulation there was one; against all abolition there were four; and for the total abolition of the trade five hundred and nineteen. On the second of April Mr. Wilberforce moved the order of the day; which having been agreed to, Sir William Dolben was put into the chair. He then began by soliciting the candid attention of the West Indians to what he was going to deliver to the House. However others might have censured them indiscriminately, he had always himself made a distinction between them and their system. It was the latter only, which he reprobated. If aristocracy had been thought a worse form of government than monarchy, because the people had many tyrants instead of one, how objectionable must be that form of it, which existed in our colonies! Arbitrary power could be bought there by any one, who could buy a slave. The fierceness of it was doubtless restrained by an elevation of mind in many, as arising from a consciousness of superior rank and consequence: but, alas! it was too often exercised there by the base and vulgar. The more liberal too of the planters were not resident upon their estates. Hence a promiscuous censure of them would be unjust, though their system would undoubtedly be odious. As for the cure of this monstrous evil, he had shown, last year, that internal regulations would not produce it. These could have no effect, while the evidence of slaves was inadmissible. What would be the situation of the bulk of the people of this country, if only gentlemen of five hundred a-year were admitted as evidences in our courts of law? Neither was the cure of it in the emancipation of the slaves. He did not deny that he wished them this latter blessing. But, alas, in their present degraded state, they were unfit for it! Liberty was the child of reason and order. It was indeed a plant of celestial growth, but the soil must be prepared for its reception. He, who would see it flourish and bring forth its proper fruit, must not think it sufficient to let it shoot in unrestrained licentiousness. But if this inestimable blessing was ever to be imparted to them, the cause must be removed, which obstructed its introduction. In short, no effectual remedy could be found but in the abolition of the Slave-trade. He then took a copious view of the advantages, which would arise both to the master and to the slave, if this traffic were done away; and having recapitulated and answered the different objections to such a measure, he went to that part of the subject, in which he described himself to be most interested. He had shown, he said, last year, that Africa was exposed to all the horrors of war; and that most of these wars had their origin in the Slave-trade. It was then said, in reply, that the natural barbarity of the natives was alone sufficient to render their country a scene of carnage. This was triumphantly instanced in the king of Dahomey. But his honourable friend Lord Muncaster, then in the House, had proved in his interesting publication, which had appeared since, called Historical Sketches of the Slave-trade and of its Effects in Africa, addressed to the People of Great Britain, that the very cruelties of this king, on which so much stress had been laid, were committed by him in a war, which had been undertaken expressly to punish an adjacent people for having stolen some of his subjects and sold them for slaves. He had shown also last year, that kings were induced to seize and sell their subjects, and individuals each other, in consequence of the existence of the Slave-trade. He had shown also, that the administration of justice was perverted, so as to become a fertile source of supply to this inhuman traffic; that every crime was punished by slavery; that false accusations were made, to procure convicts; and that even the judges had a profit on the convictions. He had shown again, that many acts of violence were perpetrated by the Europeans themselves. But he would now relate others, which had happened since. The captain of an English vessel, lying in the river Cameroons, sent his boat with three sailors and a slave to get water. A Black trader seized the latter, and took him away. He alleged in his defence, that the captain owed him goods to a greater amount than the value of the slave; and that he would not pay him. This being told on board, the captain, and a part of his crew, who were compelled to blacken their naked bodies that they might appear like the natives, went on shore at midnight, armed with muskets and cutlasses. They fired on the trader's dwelling, and killed three of his children on the spot. The trader, being badly wounded, died while they were dragging him to the boat; and his wife, being wounded also, died in half an hour after she was on board the ship. Resistance having been made to these violent proceedings, some of the sailors were wounded, and one was killed. Some weeks after this affray, a chieftain of the name of Quarmo went on board the same vessel to borrow some cutlasses and muskets. He was going, he said, into the country to make war; and the captain should have half of his booty. So well understood were the practices of the trade, that his request was granted. Quarmo, however, and his associates, finding things favourable to their design, suddenly seized the captain, threw him overboard, hauled him into their canoe, and dragged him to the shore; where another party of the natives, lying in ambush, seized such of the crew as were absent from the ship. But how did these savages behave, when they had these different persons in their power? Did they not instantly retaliate by murdering them all? No--they only obliged the captain to give an order on the vessel to pay his debts. This fact came out only two months ago in a trial in the court of common pleas--not in a trial for piracy and murder--but in the trial of a civil suit, instituted by some of the poor sailors, to whom the owners refused their wages, because the natives, on account of the villanous conduct of their captain, had kept them from their vessel by detaining them as prisoners on shore. This instance, he said, proved the dreadful nature of the Slave-trade, its cruelty, its perfidy, and its effect on the Africans as well as on the Europeans, who carried it on. The cool manner, in which the transaction was conducted on both sides, showed that these practices were not novel. It showed also the manner of doing business in the trade. It must be remembered too, that these transactions were carrying on at the very time when the inquiry concerning this trade was going forward in Parliament, and whilst the witnesses of his opponents were strenuously denying not only the actual, but the possible, existence of any such depredations. But another instance happened only in August last. Six British ships, the Thomas, Captain Phillips; the Wasp, Captain Hutchinson; the Recovery, Captain Kimber, of Bristol; and the Martha, Captain Houston; the Betsey, Captain Doyle; and the Amachree, (he believed,) Captain Lee, of Liverpool; were anchored off the town of Calabàr. This place was the scene of a dreadful massacre about twenty years before. The captains of these vessels, thinking that the natives asked too much for their slaves, held a consultation, how they should proceed; and agreed to fire upon the town unless their own terms were complied with. On a certain evening they notified their determination to the traders; and told them, that, if they continued obstinate, they would put it into execution the next morning. In this they kept their word. They brought sixty-six guns to bear upon the town; and fired on it for three hours. Not a shot was returned. A canoe then went off to offer terms of accommodation. The parties however not agreeing, the firing recommenced; more damage was done; and the natives were forced into submission. There were no certain accounts of their loss. Report said that fifty were killed; but some were seen lying badly wounded, and others in the agonies of death, by those who went afterwards on shore. He would now say a few words relative to the Middle Passage, principally to show, that regulation could not effect a cure of the evil there. Mr. Isaac Wilson had stated in his evidence, that the ship, in which he sailed, only three years ago, was of three hundred and seventy tons; and that she carried six hundred and two slaves. Of these she lost one hundred and fifty-five. There were three or four other vessels in company with her, and which belonged to the same owners. One of these carried four hundred and fifty, and buried two hundred; another carried four hundred and sixty-six, and buried seventy-three; another five hundred and forty-six, and buried one hundred and fifty-eight; and from the four together, after the landing of their cargoes, two hundred and twenty died. He fell in with another vessel, which had lost three hundred and sixty-two; but the number, which had been bought, was not specified. Now if to these actual deaths, during and immediately after the voyage, we were to add the subsequent loss in the seasoning, and to consider that this would be greater than ordinary in cargoes which were landed in such a sickly state, we should find a mortality, which, if it were only general for a few months, would entirely depopulate the globe. But he would advert to what Mr. Wilson said, when examined, as a surgeon, as to the causes of these losses, and particularly on board his own ship, where he had the means of ascertaining them. The substance of his reply was this--That most of the slaves laboured under a fixed melancholy, which now and then broke out into lamentations and plaintive songs, expressive of the loss of their relations, friends, and country. So powerfully did this sorrow operate, that many of them attempted in various ways to destroy themselves, and three actually effected it. Others obstinately refused to take sustenance; and when the whip and other violent means were used to compel them to eat, they looked up in the face of the officer, who unwillingly executed this painful task, and said with a smile, in their own language, "Presently we shall be no more." This, their unhappy state of mind, produced a general languor and debility, which were increased in many instances by an unconquerable aversion to food, arising partly from sickness, and partly, to use the language of the slave-captains, from sulkiness. These causes naturally produced the flux. The contagion spread; several were carried off daily; and the disorder, aided by so many powerful auxiliaries, resisted the power of medicine. And it was worth while to remark, that these grievous sufferings were not owing either to want of care on the part of the owners, or to any negligence or harshness of the captain; for Mr. Wilson declared, that his ship was as well fitted out, and the crew and slaves as well treated, as any body could reasonably expect. He would now go to another ship. That, in which Mr. Claxton sailed as a surgeon, afforded a repetition of all the horrid circumstances which had been described. Suicide was attempted, and effected; and the same barbarous expedients were adopted to compel the slaves to continue an existence, which they considered as too painful to be endured. The mortality also was as great. And yet here again the captain was in no wise to blame. But this vessel had sailed since the regulating act. Nay, even in the last year the deaths on shipboard would be found to have been between ten and eleven per cent. on the whole number exported. In truth, the House could not reach the cause of this mortality by all their regulations. Until they could cure a broken heart--until they could legislate for the affections, and bind by their statutes the passions and feelings of the mind, their labour would be in vain. Such were the evils of the Passage. But evils were conspicuous every where, in this trade. Never was there indeed a system so replete with wickedness and cruelty. To whatever part of it we turned our eyes, whether to Africa, the Middle Passage, or the West Indies, we could find no comfort, no satisfaction, no relief. It was the gracious ordinance of Providence, both in the natural and moral world, that good should often arise out of evil. Hurricanes cleared the air; and the propagation of truth was promoted by persecution. Pride, vanity, and profusion contributed often, in their remoter consequences, to the happiness of mankind. In common, what was in itself evil and vicious was permitted to carry along with it some circumstances of palliation. The Arab was hospitable; the robber brave. We did not necessarily find cruelty associated with fraud, or meanness with injustice. But here the case was far otherwise. It was the prerogative of this detested traffic to separate from evil its concomitant good, and to reconcile discordant mischiefs. It robbed war of its generosity; it deprived peace of its security: we saw in it the vices of polished society, without its knowledge or its comforts; and the evils of barbarism without its simplicity. No age, no sex, no rank, no condition was exempt from the fatal influence of this wide-wasting calamity. Thus it attained to the fullest measure of pure, unmixed, unsophisticated wickedness; and, scorning all competition and comparison, it stood without a rival in the secure, undisputed, possession of its detestable preeminence. But, after all this, wonderful to relate, this execrable traffic had been defended on the ground of benevolence! It had been said, that the slaves were captives and convicts, who, if we were not to carry them away, would be sacrificed, and many of them at the funerals of people of rank, according to the savage custom of Africa. He had shown, however, that our supplies of slaves were obtained from other quarters than these. But he would wave this consideration for the present. Had it not been acknowledged by his opponents, that the custom of ransoming slaves prevailed in Africa? With respect to human sacrifices, he did not deny, that there might have been some instances of these; but they had not been proved to be more frequent than amongst other barbarous nations; and, where they existed, being acts of religion, they would not be dispensed with for the sake of commercial gain. In fact, they had nothing to do with the Slave-trade; only perhaps, if it were abolished, they might, by means of the civilization which would follow, be done away. But, exclusively of these sacrifices, it had been asserted, that it was kindness to the inhabitants to take them away from their own country. But what said the historians of Africa, long before the question of the abolition was started? "Axim," says Bosman, "is cultivated, and abounds with numerous large and beautiful villages: its inhabitants are industriously employed in trade, fishing, or agriculture."--"The inhabitants of Adom always expose large quantities of corn to sale, besides what they want for their own use."--"The people of Acron husband their grounds and time so well, that every year produces a plentiful harvest." Speaking of the Fetu country, he says, "Frequently, when walking through it, I have seen it abound with fine well built and populous towns, agreeably enriched with vast quantities of corn and cattle, palm-wine and oil. The inhabitants all apply themselves without distinction to agriculture; some sow corn; others press oil, and draw wine from the palm-trees." Smith, who was sent out by the royal African company in 1726, assures us, "that the discerning natives account it their greatest unhappiness, that they were ever visited by the Europeans. They say that we Christians introduced the traffic of slaves; and that before our coming they lived in peace. But, say they, it is observable, wherever Christianity comes, there come swords and guns and powder and ball with it." "The Europeans," says Bruce, "are far from desiring to act as peace-makers among them. It would be too contrary to their interests; for the only object of their wars is to carry off slaves; and, as these form the principal part of their traffic, they would be apprehensive of drying up the source of it, were they to encourage the people to live well together." "The neighbourhood of the Damel and Tin keep them perpetually at war, the benefit of which accrues to the Company, who buy all the prisoners made on either side; and the more there are to sell, the greater is their profit; for the only end of their armaments is to make captives, to sell them to the White traders." Artus, of Dantzic, says that in his time, "those liable to pay fines were banished till the fine was paid; when they returned to their houses and possessions." Bosman affirms "that formerly all crimes in Africa were compensated by fine or restitution, and, where restitution was impracticable, by corporal punishment." Moore says, "Since this trade has been used, all punishments have been changed into slavery. There being an advantage in such condemnation, they strain the crimes very hard, in order to get the benefit of selling the criminal. Not only murder, theft, and adultery, are punished by selling the criminal for a slave, but every trifling crime is punished in the same manner." Loyer affirms that "the King of Sain, on the least pretence, sells his subjects for European goods. He is so tyrannically severe, that he makes a whole village responsible for the fault of one inhabitant; and on the least offence sells them all for slaves." Such, he said, were the testimonies, not of persons whom he had summoned; not of friends of the abolition: but of men who were themselves, many of them, engaged in the Slave-trade. Other testimonies might be added; but these were sufficient to refute the assertions of his opponents, and to show the kind services we had done to Africa by the introduction of this trade. He would just touch upon the argument, so often repeated, that other nations would carry on the Slave-trade, if we abandoned it. But how did we know this? Had not Denmark given a noble example to the contrary? She had consented to abolish the trade in ten years; and had she not done this, even though we, after an investigation for nearly five years, had ourselves hung back? But what might not be expected, if we were to take up the cause in earnest; if we were to proclaim to all nations the injustice of the trade, and to solicit their concurrence in the abolition of it! He hoped the representatives of the nation would not be less just than the people. The latter had stepped forward, and expressed their sense more generally by petitions, than in any instance in which they had ever before interfered. To see this great cause thus triumphing over distinctions and prejudices was a noble spectacle. Whatever might be said of our political divisions, such a sight had taught us, that there were subjects still beyond the reach of party; that there was a point of elevation, where we ascended above the jarring of the discordant elements, which ruffled and agitated the vale below. In our ordinary atmosphere clouds and vapours obscured the air, and we were the sport of a thousand conflicting winds and adverse currents; but here we moved in a higher region, where all was pure and clear, and free from perturbation and discomposure. "As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm; Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head." Here then, on this august eminence, he hoped we should build the Temple of Benevolence; that we should lay its foundation deep in Truth and Justice; and that we should inscribe upon its gates, "Peace and Goodwill to Men." Here we should offer the first-fruits of our benevolence, and endeavour to compensate, if possible, for the injuries we had brought upon our fellow-men. He would only now observe, that his conviction of the indispensable necessity of immediately abolishing this trade remained as strong as ever. Let those who talked of allowing three or four years to the continuance of it, reflect on the disgraceful scenes which had passed last year. As for himself, he would wash his hands of the blood which would be spilled in this horrid interval. He could not, however, but believe, that the hour was come, when we should put a final period to the existence of this cruel traffic. Should he unhappily be mistaken, he would never desert the cause; but to the last moment of his life he would exert his utmost powers in its support. He would now move, "That it is the opinion of this committee, that the trade carried on by British subjects for the purpose of obtaining slaves on the coast of Africa, ought to be abolished." Mr. Baillie was in hopes that the friends of the abolition would have been contented with the innocent blood which had been already shed. The great island of St. Domingo had been torn to pieces by insurrections. The most dreadful barbarities had been perpetrated there. In the year 1789 the imports into it exceeded five millions sterling. The exports from it in the same year amounted to six millions; and the trade employed three hundred thousand tons of shipping, and thirty thousand seamen. This fine island, thus advantageously situated, had been lost in consequence of the agitation of the question or the Slave-trade. Surely so much mischief ought to have satisfied those who supported it; but they required the total destruction of all the West Indian colonies, belonging to Great Britain, to complete the ruin. The honourable gentleman, who had just spoken, had dwelt, upon the enormities of the Slave-trade. He was far from denying, that many acts of inhumanity might accompany it; but as human nature was much the same every where, it would be unreasonable to expect among African traders, or the inhabitants of our islands, a degree of perfection in morals, which was not to be found in Great Britain itself. Would any man estimate the character of the English nation by what was to be read in the records of the Old Bailey? He himself, however, had lived sixteen years in the West Indies, and he could bear testimony to the general good usage of the slaves. Before the agitation of this impolitic question the slaves were contented with their situation. There was a mutual confidence between them and their masters: and this continued to be the case till the new doctrines were broached. But now depots of arms were necessary on every estate; and the scene was totally reversed. Nor was their religious then inferior to their civil state. When the English took possession of Grenada, where his property lay, they found them baptized and instructed in the principles of the Roman Catholic faith. The priests of that persuasion had indeed been indefatigable in their vocation; so that imported Africans generally obtained within twelve months a tolerable idea of their religious duties. He had seen the slaves there go through the public mass in a manner, and with a fervency, which would have done credit to more civilized societies. But the case was now altered; for, except where the Moravians had been, there was no trace in our islands of an attention to their religious interests. It had been said, that their punishments were severe. There might be instances of cruelty; but these were not general. Many of them were undoubtedly ill disposed; though not more, according to their number, on a plantation, than in a regiment, or in a ship's crew. Had we never heard of seamen being flogged from ship to ship, or of soldiers dying in the very act of punishment? Had we not also heard, even in this country of boasted liberty, of seamen being seized, and carried away, when returning from distant voyages, after an absence of many years; and this without even being allowed to see their wives and families? As to distressed objects, he maintained, that there was more wretchedness and poverty in St. Giles's, than in all the West Indian islands belonging to Great Britain. He would now speak of the African and West Indian trades. The imports and exports of these amounted to upwards of ten millions annually; and they gave employment to three hundred thousand tons of shipping, and to about twenty-five thousand seamen. These trades had been sanctioned by our ancestors in parliament. The acts for this purpose might be classed under three heads. First, they were such as declared the colonies and the trade thereof advantageous to Great Britain, and therefore entitled to her protection. Secondly, such as authorised, protected, and encouraged the trade to Africa, as advantageous in itself, and necessary to the welfare and existence of the sugar colonies: and, Thirdly, such as promoted and secured loans of money to the proprietors of the said colonies, either from British subjects or from foreigners. These acts[A], he apprehended, ought to satisfy every person of the legality and usefulness of these trades. They were enacted in reigns distinguished for the production of great and enlightened characters. We heard then of no wild and destructive doctrines like the present. These were reserved for this age of novelty and innovation. But he must remind the House, that the inhabitants of our islands had as good a right to the protection of their property, as the inhabitants of Great Britain. Nor could it be diminished in any shape without full compensation. The proprietors of lands in the ceded islands, which were purchased of government under specific conditions of settlement, ought to be indemnified. They also (of whom he was one) who had purchased the territory granted by the crown to General Monkton in the Island of St. Vincent, ought to be indemnified also. The sale of this had gone on briskly, till it was known, that a plan was in agitation for the abolition of the Slave-trade. Since that period the original purchasers had done little or nothing, and they had many hundred acres on hand, which would be of no value, if the present question was carried. In fact, they had a right to compensation. The planters generally spent their estates in this country. They generally educated their children in it. They had never been found seditious or rebellious; and they demanded of the Parliament of Great Britain that protection, which, upon the principles of good faith, it was in duty bound to afford them in common with the rest of his majesty's loyal subjects. [Footnote A: Here he quoted them specifically.] Mr. Vaughan stated that, being a West Indian by birth and connected with the islands, he could speak from his own knowledge. In the early part of his life he was strongly in favour of the abolition of the Slave-trade. He had been educated by Dr. Priestley and the father of Mrs. Barbauld; who were both of them friends to that question. Their sentiments he had imbibed: but, although bred at the feet of Gamaliel, he resolved to judge for himself, and he left England for Jamaica. He found the situation of the slaves much better than he had imagined. Setting aside liberty, they were as well off as the poor in Europe. They had little want of clothes or fuel: they had a house and garden found them; were never imprisoned for debts; nor deterred from marrying through fear of being unable to support a family; their orphans and widows were taken care of, as they themselves were when old and disabled; they had medical attendance without expense; they had private property, which no master ever took front them; and they were resigned to their situation, and looked for nothing beyond it. Perhaps persons might have been prejudiced by living in the towns, to which slaves were often sent for punishment; and where there were many small proprietors; or by seeing no Negro otherwise than as belonging to the labouring poor; but they appeared to him to want nothing but liberty; and it was only occasionally that they were abused. There were two prejudices with respect to the colonies, which he would notice. The first was, that cruel usage occasioned the inequality of births and deaths among the slaves. But did cruelty cause the excess of deaths above births in the city of London? No--this excess had other causes. So it had among the slaves. Of these more males were imported than females: they were dissolute too in their morals; they had also diseases peculiar to themselves. But in those islands where they nearly kept up their numbers, there was this difficulty, that the equality was preserved by the increase on one estate compensating for the decrease on another. These estates, however, would not interchange their numbers; whereas, where freedom prevailed, the free labourers circulated from one employer to another, and appeared wherever they were wanted. The second was, that all chastisement of the slaves was cruelty. But this was not true. Their owners generally withdrew them from public justice; so that they, who would have been publicly executed elsewhere, were often kept alive by their masters, and were found punished again and again for repeating their faults. Distributive justice occasioned many punishments; as one slave was to be protected against every other slave: and, when one pilfered from another, then the master interfered. These punishments were to be distinguished from such as arose from enforcing labour, or from the cruelty of their owners. Indeed he had gone over the islands, and he had seen but little ill usage. He had seen none on the estate where he resided. The whip, the stocks, and confinement, were all the modes of punishment he had observed in other places. Some slaves belonging to his father were peculiarly well off. They saved money, and spent it in their own way. But, notwithstanding all he had said, he allowed that there was room for improvement; and particularly for instilling into the slaves the principles of religion. Where this should be realized, there would be less punishment, more work, more marriages, more issue, and more attachment to masters. Other improvements would be the establishment of medical societies; the introduction of task-work; and grants of premiums and honorary distinctions both to fathers and mothers, according to the number of children which they should rear. Besides this, Negro evidence should be allowed in the courts of law, it being left to the discretion of the court or jury to take or reject it, according to the nature of the case. Cruel masters also should be kept in order in various ways. They should be liable to have their slaves taken from them, and put in trust. Every instrument of punishment should be banished, except the whip. The number of lashes should be limited; and the punishment should not be repeated till after intervals. These and other improvements should be immediately adopted by the planters. The character of the exemplary among them was hurt by being confounded with that of lower and baser men. He concluded by stating, that the owners of slaves were entitled to compensation, if, by means of the abolition, they should not be able to find labourers for the cultivation of their lands[A]. [Footnote A: Mr. Vaughan declared in a future stage of the debate, that he wished to see a prudent termination both of the Slave-trade and of slavery; and that, though he was the eldest son of his father, he never would, on any consideration, become the owner of a slave.] Mr. Henry Thornton conceived, that the two last speakers had not spoken to the point. The first had described the happy state of the slaves in the West Indies. The latter had made similar representations; but yet had allowed, that much improvement might be made in their condition. But this had nothing to do with the question then before them. The manner of procuring slaves in Africa was the great evil to be remedied. Africa was to be stripped of its inhabitants to supply a population for the West Indies. There was a Dutch proverb, which said, "My son, get money, honestly if you can--but get money:" or, in other words, "Get slaves, honestly if you can--but get slaves." This was the real grievance; and the two honourable gentlemen, by confining their observations to the West Indies, had entirely overlooked it. Though this evil had been fully proved, he could not avoid stating to the House some new facts, which had come to his knowledge as a director of the Sierra Leone Company, and which would still further establish it. The consideration, that they had taken place since the discussion of the last year on this subject, obliged him to relate them. Mr. Falconbridge, agent to the Company, sitting one evening in Sierra Leone, heard a shout, and immediately afterwards the report of a gun. Fearing an attack, he armed forty of the settlers, and rushed with them to the place from whence the noise came. He found a poor wretch, who had been crossing from a neighbouring village, in the possession of a party of kidnappers, who were tying his hands. Mr. Falconbridge, however, dared not rescue him, lest, in the defenceless state of his own town, retaliation might be made upon him. At another time a young woman, living half a mile off, was sold, without any criminal charge, to one of the slave-ships. She was well acquainted with the agent's wife, and had been with her only the day before. Her cries were heard; but it was impossible to relieve her. At another time a young lad, one of the free settlers who went from England, was caught by a neighbouring chief, as he was straggling alone from home, and sold for a slave. The pretext was, that some one in the town of Sierra Leone had committed an offence. Hence the first person belonging to it, who could be seized, was to be punished. Happily the free settlers saw him in his chains; and they recovered him, before he was conveyed to the ship. To mark still more forcibly the scenes of misery, to which the Slave-trade gave birth, he would mention a case stated to him in a letter by King Naimbanna. It had happened to this respectable person, in no less than three instances, to have some branches of his family kidnapped, and carried off to the West Indies. At one time three young men, Corpro, Banna, and Marbrour, were decoyed on board a Danish slave-ship, under pretence of buying something, and were taken away. At another time another relation piloted a vessel down the river. He begged to be put on shore, when he came opposite to his own town; but he was pressed to pilot her to the river's mouth. The captain then pleaded the impracticability of putting him on shore; carried him to Jamaica; and sold him for a slave. Fortunately, however, by means of a letter, which was conveyed there, the man, by the assistance of the governor, was sent back to Sierra Leone. At another time another relation was also kidnapped. But he had not the good fortune, like the former, to return. He would mention one other instance. A son had sold his own father, for whom he obtained a considerable price: for, as the father was rich in domestic slaves, it was not doubted that he would offer largely for his ransom. The old man accordingly gave twenty-two of these in exchange for himself. The rest, however, being from that time filled with apprehensions of being on some ground or other sold to the slave-ships, fled to the mountains of Sierra Leone, where they now dragged on a miserable existence. The son himself was sold, in his turn, soon after. In short, the whole of that unhappy peninsula, as he learnt from eye-witnesses, had been desolated by the trade in slaves. Towns were seen standing without inhabitants all over the coast; in several of which the agent of the Company had been. There was nothing but distrust among the inhabitants. Every one, if he stirred from home, felt himself obliged to be armed. Such was the nature of the Slave-trade. It had unfortunately obtained the name of a trade; and many had been deceived by the appellation. But it was war, and not trade. It was a mass of crimes, and not commerce. It was that which prevented the introduction of a trade in Africa; for it was only by clearing and cultivating the lands, that the climate could be made healthy for settlements; but this wicked traffic, by dispersing the inhabitants, and causing the lands to remain uncultivated, made the coast unhealthy to Europeans. He had found, in attempting to establish a colony there, that it was an obstacle, which opposed itself to him in innumerable ways; it created more embarrassments than all the natural impediments of the country; and it was more hard to contend with, than any difficulties of climate, soil, or natural disposition of the people. We would say a few words relative to the numerous petitions, which were then on the table of the House. They had shown, in an extraordinary manner, the opinion of the people. He did not wish to turn this into a constitutional question; but he would observe, that it was of the utmost consequence to the maintenance of the constitution of this country, that the reputation of Parliament should be maintained. But nothing could prejudice its character so much, as a vote, which should lead the people to believe, that the legislative body was the more corrupt part of it, and that it was slow to adopt moral principles. It had been often insinuated that Parliament, by interfering in this trade, departed from its proper functions. No idea could be more absurd: for, was it not its duty to correct abuses? and what abuses were greater than robbery and murder? He was indeed anxious for the abolition. He desired it, as a commercial man, on account of the commercial character of the country. He desired it for the reputation of Parliament, on which so materially depended the preservation of our happy constitution: but most of all he prayed for it for the sake of those eternal principles of justice, which it was the duty of nations, as well as of individuals, to support. Colonel Tarleton repeated his arguments of the last year. In addition to these he inveighed bitterly against the abolitionists, as a junto of sectaries, sophists, enthusiasts, and fanatics. He condemned the abolition as useless, unless other nations would take it up. He brought to the recollection of the House the barbarous scenes which had taken place in St. Domingo, all of which, he said, had originated in the discussion of this question. He described the alarms, in which the inhabitants of our own islands were kept, lest similar scenes should occur from the same cause. He ridiculed the petitions on the table. Itinerant clergymen, mendicant physicians, and others, had extorted signatures from the sick, the indigent, and the traveller. School-boys were invited to sign them, under the promise of a holiday. He had letters to produce, which would prove all these things, though he was not authorized to give up the names of those who had written them. Mr. Montagu said, that, in the last session, he had simply entered his protest against the trade; but now he could be no longer silent; and as there were many, who had conceived regulation to be more desirable than abolition, he would confine himself to that subject. Regulation, as it related to the manner of procuring slaves, was utterly impossible: for how could we know the case of each individual, whom we forced away into bondage? Could we establish tribunals all along the coast, and in every ship, to find it out? What judges could we get for such an office? But, if this could not be done upon the coast, how could we ascertain the justness of the captivity of by far the greatest number, who were brought from immense distances inland? He would not dwell upon the proof of the inefficiency of regulations, as to the Middle Passage. His honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce had shown, that, however the mortality might have been lessened in some ships by the regulations of Sir William Dolben, yet, wherever a contagious disorder broke out, the greatest part of the cargo was swept away. But what regulations by the British Parliament could prevent these contagions, or remove them suddenly, when they appeared? Neither would regulations be effectual, as they related to the protection of the slaves in the West Indies. It might perhaps be enacted, as Mr. Vaughan had suggested, that their punishments should be moderate; and that the number of lashes should be limited. But the colonial legislatures had already done as much, as the magic of words alone could do, upon this subject: yet the evidence upon the table clearly proved, that the only protection of slaves was in the clemency of their masters. Any barbarity might be exercised with impunity, provided no White person were to see it, though it happened in the sight of a thousand slaves. Besides, by splitting the offence, and inflicting the punishment at intervals, the law could be evaded, although the fact was within the reach of the evidence of a White man. Of this evasion, Captain Cook, of the eighty-ninth regiment, had given a shocking instance: and Chief Justice Ottley had candidly confessed, that "he could devise no method of bringing a master, so offending, to justice, while the evidence of the slave continued inadmissible." But perhaps councils of protection, and guardians of the slaves, might be appointed. This again was an expedient, which sounded well; but which would be nugatory and absurd. What person would risk the comfort of his life by the exercise of so invidious an interference? But supposing that one or two individuals could be found, who would sacrifice all their time, and the friendship of their associates, for the good of the slaves; what could they effect? Could they be in all places at once? But even if acts of barbarity should be related to them, how were they to come at the proof of them? It appeared then that no regulations could be effectual until the slaves were admitted to give their evidence: but to admit them to this privilege in their present state would be to endanger the safety and property of their masters. Mr. Vaughan had, however, recommended this measure with limitations, but it would produce nothing but discontent; for how were the slaves to be persuaded, that it was fit they should be admitted to speak the truth, and then be disbelieved and disregarded? What a fermentation would such a conduct naturally excite in men dismissed with injuries unredressed, though abundantly proved, in their apprehension, by their testimony! In fact, no regulations would do. There was no cure for these evils, but in the abolition of the Slave-trade. He called upon the planters to concur with his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce in this great measure. He wished them to consider the progress, which the opinion of the injustice of this trade was making in the nation at large, as manifested by the petitions; which had almost obstructed the proceedings of the House by their perpetual introduction. It was impossible for them to stifle this great question. As for himself, he would renew his profession of last year, that he would never cease, but with life, to promote so glorious an end. Mr. Whitbread said, that even if he could conceive, that the trade was, as some had asserted it to be, founded on principles of humanity; that the Africans were rescued from death in their own country; that, upon being carried to the West Indies, they were put under kind masters; that their labour there was easy; that at evening they returned cheerful to their homes; that in sickness they were attended with care; and that their old age was rendered comfortable; even then he would vote for the abolition of the Slave-trade; inasmuch as he was convinced, that that, which was fundamentally wrong, no practice could justify. No eloquence could persuade him, that the Africans were torn from their country and their dearest connections, merely that they might lead a happier life; or that they could be placed under the uncontrolled dominion of others without suffering. Arbitrary power would spoil the hearts of the best. Hence would arise tyranny on the one side, and a sense of injury on the other. Hence the passions would be let loose, and a state of perpetual enmity would follow. He needed only to go to the accounts of those who defended the system of slavery, to show that it was cruel. He was forcibly struck last year by an expression of an honourable member, an advocate for the trade, who, when he came to speak of the slaves, on selling off the stock of a plantation, said, that they fetched less than the common price, because they were damaged.--Damaged!--What! were they goods and chattels? What an idea was this to hold out of our fellow-creatures. We might imagine how slaves were treated, if they could be spoken of in such a manner. Perhaps these unhappy people had lingered out the best part of their lives in the service of their master. Able then to do but little, they were sold for little! and the remaining substance of their sinews was to be pressed out by another, yet more hardened than the former, and who had made a calculation of their vitals accordingly. As another proof, he would mention a passage in a pamphlet, in which the author, describing the happy situation of the slaves, observed, that a good Negro never wanted a character. A bad one could always be detected by his weals and scars. What was this but to say, that there were instruments in use, which left indelible marks behind them; and who would say, that these were used justly? An honourable gentleman, Mr. Vaughan, had said, that setting aside slavery, the slaves were better off than the poor in this country. But what was it that we wished to abolish? Was it not the Slave-trade, which would destroy in time the cruel distinction he had mentioned? The same honourable gentleman had also expressed his admiration of their resignation; but might it not be that resignation, which was the consequence of despair? Colonel Tarleton had insinuated, that the petitions on the table had been obtained in an objectionable manner. He had the honour to present one from his constituents; which he would venture to say had originated with themselves; and that there did not exist more respectable names in the kingdom, than those of the persons who had signed it. He had also asserted, that there was a strong similitude in their tenour and substance, as if they had been manufactured by the same persons. This was by no means to be wondered at. There was surely but one plain tale to tell; and it was not surprising, that it had been clothed in nearly the same expressions. There was but one boon to ask, and that was--the abolition of this wicked trade. It had been said by another, (Mr. Baillie) that the horrible insurrections in St. Domingo arose from the discussion of the question of the Slave-trade. He denied the assertion; and maintained that they were the effect of the trade itself. There was a point of endurance, beyond which human nature could not go; at which the mind of man rose by its native elasticity with a spring and violence proportioned to the degree to which it had been depressed. The calamities in St. Domingo proceeded from the Slave-trade alone; and, if it were continued, similar evils were to be apprehended in our own islands. The cruelties, which the slaves had perpetrated in that unfortunate colony, they had learnt from their masters. Had not an African eyes? Had he not ears? Had he not organs, senses, and passions? If you pricked him, would he not feel the puncture and bleed? If you poisoned him, would he not die? and, if you wronged him, would he not revenge? But he had said sufficient; for he feared he could not better the instruction. Mr. Milbank would only just observe, that the policy of the measure of the abolition was as great, as its justice was undeniable. Where slavery existed, every thing was out of its natural place. All improvement was at an end. There must also, from the nature of the human heart, be oppression. He warned the planters against the danger of fresh importations, and invited their concurrence in the measure. Mr. Dundas (now Lord Melville) declared, that he had always been a warm friend to the abolition of the Slave-trade, though he differed with Mr. Wilberforce as to the mode of effecting it. The abolitionists, and those on the opposite side of the question, had, both of them, gone into extremes. The former were for the immediate and abrupt annihilation of the trade. The latter considered it as essentially necessary to the existence of the West Indian islands, and therefore laid it down, that it was to be continued for ever. Such was the vast distance between the parties. He would now address himself to each. He would say first, that he agreed with his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce in very material points. He believed the trade was not founded in policy; that the continuation of it was not essential to the preservation of our trade with the West Indian islands; and that the slaves were not only to be maintained, but increased there, by natural population. He agreed, too, as to the propriety of the abolition. But when his honourable friend talked of direct and abrupt abolition, he would submit it to him, whether he did not run counter to the prejudices of those who were most deeply interested in the question; and whether, if he could obtain his object without wounding these, it would not be better to do it? Did he not also forget the sacred attention, which Parliament had ever shown to the private interests and patrimonial rights of individuals? Whatever idea men might then have of the African trade, certain it was that they, who had connected themselves with it, had done it under the sanction of Parliament. It might also be well worth while to consider (though the conduct of other nations ought not to deter us from doing our duty) whether British subjects in the West Indies might not be supplied with slaves under neutral flags. Now he believed it was possible to avoid these objections, and at the same time to act in harmony with the prejudices which had been mentioned. This might be done by regulations, by which we should effect the end much more speedily than by the way proposed. By regulations, he meant such as would increase the breed of the slaves in the West Indies; such as would ensure a moral education to their children; and such as would even in time extinguish hereditary slavery. The extinction, however, of this was not to be effected by allowing the son of an African slave to obtain his freedom on the death of his parent. Such a son should be considered as born free. He should then be educated at the expense of the person importing his parents; and, when arrived at such a degree of strength as might qualify him to labour, he should work for a term of years for the payment of the expense of his education and maintenance. It was impossible to emancipate the existing slaves at once; nor would such an emancipation be of any immediate benefit to themselves: but this observation would not apply to their descendants, if trained and educated in the manner he had proposed. He would now address himself to those who adopted the opposite extreme: and he thought he should not assume too much, when he said, that if both slavery and the Slave-trade could be abolished with safety to their property, it deeply concerned their interests to do it. Such a measure, also, would only be consistent with the principles of the British Constitution. It was surely strange that we, who were ourselves free, should carry on a Slave-trade with Africa; and that we should never think of introducing cultivation into the West Indies by free labourers. That such a measure would tend to their interest he had no doubt. Did not all of them agree with Mr. Long, that the great danger in the West Indies arose from the importation of the African slaves there? Mr. Long had asserted, that all the insurrections there arose from these. If this statement were true, how directly it bore upon the present question! But we were told also, by the same author, that the Slave-trade gave rise to robbery, murder, and all kinds of depredations on the coast of Africa. Had this been answered? No: except indeed it had been said, that the slaves were such as had been condemned for crimes. Well then: the imported Africans consisted of all the convicts, rogues, thieves, and vagabonds in Africa. But would the West Indians choose to depend on fresh supplies of these for the cultivation of their lands, and the security of their islands, when it was also found that every insurrection had arisen from them? it was plain the safety of the islands was concerned in this question. There would be danger so long as the trade lasted. The Planters were, by these importations, creating the engines of their own destruction. Surely they would act more to their own interest, if they would concur in extinguishing the trade, than by standing up for its continuance. He would now ask them, what right they had to suppose that Africa would for ever remain in a state of barbarism. If once an enlightened prince were to rise up there, his first act would be to annihilate the Slave-trade. If the light of heaven were ever to descend upon that continent, it would directly occasion its downfall. It was their interest then to contrive a mode of supplying labour, without trusting to precarious importations from that quarter. They might rest assured that the trade could not continue. He did not allude to the voice of the people in the petitions then lying on the table of the House; but he knew certainly, that an idea not only of the injustice but of the impolicy of this trade had been long entertained by men of the most enlightened understandings in this country. Was it then a prudent thing for them to rest on this commerce for the further improvement of their property? There was a species of slavery, prevailing only a few years ago, in the collieries in certain boroughs of Scotland. Emancipation there was thought a duty by Parliament: But what an opposition there was to the measure! Nothing but ruin would be the consequence of it! After several years struggle the bill was carried. Within a year after, the ruin so much talked of vanished in smoke, and there was an end of the business. It had also been contended that Sir William Dolben's bill would be the ruin of Liverpool: and yet one of its representatives had allowed, that this bill had been of benefit to the owners of the slave-vessels there. Was he then asking too much of the West Indians, to request a candid consideration of the real ground of their alarms? He would conclude by stating, that he meant to propose a middle way of proceeding. If there was a number of members in the House, who thought with him, that this trade ought to be ultimately abolished, but yet by moderate measures, which should neither invade the property nor the prejudices of individuals; he wished them to unite, and they might then reduce the question to its proper limits. Mr. Addington (the speaker) professed himself to be one of those moderate persons called upon by Mr. Dundas. He wished to see some middle measure suggested. The fear of doing injury to the property of others, had hitherto prevented him from giving an opinion against a system, the continuance of which he could not countenance. He utterly abhorred the Slave-trade. A noble and learned lord, who had now retired from the bench, said on a certain occasion, that he pitied the loyalty of that man, who imagined that any epithet could aggravate the crime of treason. So he himself knew of no language which could aggravate the crime of the Slave-trade. It was sufficient for every purpose of crimination, to assert, that man thereby was bought and sold, or that he was made subject to the despotism of man. But though he thus acknowledged the justice due to a whole continent on the one side, he confessed there were opposing claims of justice on the other. The case of the West Indians deserved a tender consideration also. He doubted, if we were to relinquish the Slave-trade alone, whether it might not be carried on still more barbarously than at present; and whether, if we were to stop it altogether, the islands could keep up their present stocks. It had been asserted that they could. But he thought that the stopping of the importations could not be depended upon for this purpose, so much as a plan for providing them with more females. With the mode suggested by his right honourable friend, Mr. Dundas, he was pleased, though he did not wholly agree to it. He could not grant liberty to the children born in the islands. He thought also, that the trade ought to be permitted for ten or twelve years longer, under such arrangements as should introduce a kind of management among the slaves there, favourable to their interests, and of course to their future happiness. One species of regulation which he should propose, would be greater encouragement to the importation of females than of males, by means of a bounty on the former till their numbers should be found equal. Rewards also might be given to those slaves who should raise a certain number of children; and to those who should devise means of lightening negro-labour. If the plan of his honourable friend should comprehend these regulations, he would heartily concur in it. He wished to see the Slave-trade abolished. Indeed it did not deserve the name of a trade. It was not a trade, and ought not to be allowed. He was satisfied, that in a few years it would cease to be the reproach of this nation and the torment of Africa. But under regulations like these, it would cease without any material injury to the interests of others. Mr. Fox said, that after what had fallen from the two last speakers he could remain no longer silent. Something so mischievous had come out, and something so like a foundation had been laid for preserving, not only for years to come, but for ever, this detestable traffic, that he should feel himself wanting in his duty, if he were not to deprecate all such deceptions and delusions upon the country. The honourable gentlemen had called themselves moderate men: but upon this subject he neither felt, nor desired to feel, any thing like a sentiment of moderation. Their speeches had reminded him of a passage in Middleton's Life of Cicero. The translation of it was defective, though it would equally suit his purpose. He says, "To enter into a man's house, and kill him, his wife, and family, in the night, is certainly a most heinous crime, and deserving of death; but to break open his house, to murder him, his wife, and all his children, in the night, may be still very right, provided it be done with moderation." Now, was there any thing more absurd in this passage, than to say, that the Slave-trade might be carried on with moderation; for, if you could not rob or murder a single man with moderation, with what moderation could you pillage and wound a whole nation? In fact, the question of the abolition was simply a question of justice. It was only, whether we should authorize by law, respecting Africa, the commission of crimes, for which, in this country, we should forfeit our lives; notwithstanding which, it was to be treated, in the opinion of these honourable gentlemen, with moderation. Mr. Addington had proposed to cure the disproportion of the sexes in the islands, by a bounty on the importation of females; or, in other words, by offering a premium to any crew of ruffians, who would tear them from their native country. He would let loose a banditti against the most weak and defenceless of the sex. He would occasion these to kill fathers, husbands, and brothers, to get possession of their relatives, the females, who, after this carnage, were to be reserved for--slavery. He should like to see the man, who would pen such a moderate clause for a British Parliament. Mr. Dundas had proposed to abolish the Slave-trade, by bettering the state of the slaves in the islands, and particularly that of their offspring. His plan, with respect to the latter, was not a little curious. They were to become free, when born; and then they were to be educated at the expense of those to whom their fathers belonged. But it was clear, that they could not be educated for nothing. In order, therefore, to repay this expense, they were to be slaves for ten or fifteen years. In short, they were to have an education, which was to qualify them to become freemen; and, after they had been so educated, they were to become slaves. But as this free education might possibly unfit them for submitting to slavery; so, after they had been made to bow under the yoke for ten or fifteen years, they might then, perhaps, be equally unfit to become free; and therefore, might be retained as slaves for a few years longer, if not for their whole lives. He never heard of a scheme so moderate, and yet so absurd and visionary. The same honourable gentleman had observed, that the conduct of other nations should not hinder us from doing our duty; but yet neutrals would furnish our islands with slaves. What was the inference from this moderate assertion, but that we might as well supply them ourselves? He hoped, if we were yet to be supplied, it would never be by Englishmen. We ought no longer to be concerned in such a crime. An adversary, Mr. Baillie, had said, that it would not be fair to take the character of this country from the records of the Old Bailey. He did not at all wonder, when the subject of the Slave-trade was mentioned, that the Old Bailey naturally occurred to his recollection. The facts which had been described in the evidence, were associated in all our minds with the ideas of criminal justice. But Mr. Baillie had forgot the essential difference between the two cases. When we learnt from these records, that crimes were committed in this country, we learnt also, that they were punished with transportation and death. But the crimes committed in the Slave-trade were passed over with impunity. Nay, the perpetrators were even sent out again to commit others. As to the mode of obtaining slaves, it had been suggested as the least disreputable, that they became so in consequence of condemnation as criminals. But he would judge of the probability of this mode by the reasonableness of it. No less than eighty thousand Africans were exported annually by the different nations of Europe from their own country. Was it possible to believe, that this number could have been legally convicted of crimes, for which they had justly forfeited their liberty? The supposition was ridiculous. The truth was, that every enormity was practised to obtain the persons of these unhappy people. He referred those present to the case in the evidence of the African trader, who had kidnapped and sold a girl, and who was afterwards kidnapped and sold himself. He desired them to reason upon the conversation which had taken place between the trader and the captain of the ship on this occasion. He desired them also to reason upon the instance mentioned this evening, which had happened in the river Cameroons, and they would infer all the rapine, all the desolation, and all the bloodshed, which had been placed to the account of this execrable trade. An attempt had been made to impress the House with the horrible scenes which had taken place in St. Domingo, as an argument against the abolition of the Slave-trade; but could any more weighty argument be produced in its favour? What were the causes of the insurrections there? They were two. The first was the indecision of the National Assembly, who wished to compromise between that which was right and that which was wrong on this subject. And the second was the oppression of the People of Colour, and of the Slaves. In the first of the causes we saw something like the moderation of Mr. Dundas and Mr. Addington. One day this Assembly talked of liberty, and favoured the Blacks. Another day they suspended their measures, and favoured the Whites. They wished to steer a middle course; but decision had been mercy. Decision even against the Planters would have been a thousand times better than indecision and half measures. In the mean time, the People of Colour took the great work of justice into their own hands. Unable, however, to complete this of themselves, they called in the aid of the Slaves. Here began the second cause; for the Slaves, feeling their own power, began to retaliate on the Whites. And here it may be observed, that, in all revolutions, the clemency or cruelty of the victors will always be in proportion to their former privileges, or their oppression. That the Slaves then should have been guilty of great excesses was not to be wondered at; for where did they learn their cruelty? They learnt it from those who had tyrannized over them. The oppression, which they themselves had suffered, was fresh in their memories, and this had driven them to exercise their vengeance so furiously. If we wished to prevent similar scenes in our own islands, we must reject all moderate measures, and at once abolish the Slave-trade. By doing this, we should procure a better treatment for the Slaves there; and when this happy change of system should have taken place, we might depend on them for the defence of the islands as much as on the Whites themselves. Upon the whole, he would give his opinion of this traffic in a few words. He believed it to be impolitic--he knew it to be inhuman--he was certain it was unjust--he though it so inhuman and unjust, that, if the colonies could not be cultivated without it, they ought not to be cultivated at all. It would be much better for us to be without them, than not abolish the Slave-trade. He hoped therefore that members would this night act the part which would do them honour. He declared, that, whether he should vote in a large minority or a small one, he would never give up the cause. Whether in the House of Parliament or out of it, in whatever situation he might ever be, as long as he had a voice to speak, this question should never be at rest. Believing the trade to be of the nature of crimes and pollutions, which stained the honour of the country, he would never relax his efforts. It was his duty to prevent man from preying upon man; and if he and his friends should die before they had attained their glorious object, he hoped there would never be wanting men alive to their duty, who would continue to labour till the evil should be wholly done away. If the situation of the Africans was as happy as servitude could make them, he could not consent to the enormous crime of selling man to man; nor permit a practice to continue, which put an entire bar to the civilization of one quarter of the globe. He was sure that the nation would not much longer allow the continuance of enormities which shocked human nature. The West Indians had no right to demand that crimes should be permitted by this country for their advantage; and, if they were wise, they would lend their cordial assistance to such measures, as would bring about, in the shortest possible time, the abolition of this execrable trade. Mr. Dundas rose again, but it was only to move an amendment, namely, that the word "gradually" should be inserted before the words "to be abolished" in Mr. Wilberforce's motion. Mr. Jenkinson (now Lord Hawkesbury) said, that the opinions of those who were averse to the abolition had been unfairly stated. They had been described as founded on policy, in opposition to humanity. If it could be made out that humanity would be aided by the abolition, he would be the last person to oppose it. The question was not, he apprehended, whether the trade was founded in injustice and oppression. He admitted it was: nor was it, whether it was in itself abstractedly an evil: he admitted this also: but whether, under all the circumstances of the case, any considerable advantage would arise to a number of our fellow-creatures from the abolition of the trade in the manner in which it had been proposed. He was ready to admit, that the Africans at home were made miserable by the Slave-trade, and that, if it were universally abolished, great benefit would arise to them. No one, however, would assert, that these miseries arose from the trade as carried on by Great Britain only. Other countries occasioned as much of the evil as we did; and if the abolition of it by us should prove only the transferring of it to those countries, very little benefit would result from the measure. What then was the probability of our example being followed by foreign powers? Five years had now elapsed since the question was first started, and what had any of them done? The Portuguese continued the trade. The Spaniards still gave a bounty to encourage it. He believed there were agents from Holland in this country, who were then negotiating with persons concerned in it in order to secure its continuance. The abolition also had been proposed in the National Assembly of France, and had been rejected there. From these circumstances he had a right to infer, that if we gave up the trade, we should only transfer it to those countries: but this transfer would be entirely against the Africans. The mortality on board English ships, previously to the regulating bill, was four and an eighth per cent. Since that time it had been reduced to little more than three per cent.[A] In French ships it was near ten, and in Dutch ships from five to seven, per cent. In Portuguese it was less than either in French or Dutch, but more than in English ships since the regulating bill. Thus the deaths of the Africans would be more than doubled, if we were to abolish the trade. [Footnote A: Mr. Wilberforce stated it on the same evening to be between ten and eleven per cent. for the last year. The number then exported from Africa to our islands was rather more than 22,000, of whom more than 2,300 died.] Perhaps it might be replied, that, the importations being stopped in our own islands, fewer Africans would experience this misery, because fewer would be taken from their own country on this account. But he had a right to infer, that as the planters purchased slaves at present, they would still think it their interest to have them. The question then was, whether they could get them by smuggling. Now it appeared by the evidence, that many hundred slaves had been stolen from time to time from Jamaica, and carried into Cuba. But if persons could smuggle slaves out of our colonies, they could smuggle slaves into them; but particularly when the planters might think it to their interest to assist them. With respect to the slaves there, instances had been related of their oppression, which shocked the feelings of all who heard them: But was it fair to infer from these their general ill usage? Suppose a person were to make a collection of the different abuses, which had happened for a series of years under our own happy constitution, and use these as an argument of its worthlessness; should we not say to him, that in the most perfect system which the human intellect could form, some defects would exist; and that it was unfair to draw inferences from such partial facts? In the same manner he would argue relative to the alleged treatment of the slaves. Evidence had been produced upon this point on both sides. He should not be afraid to oppose the authorities of Lord Rodney, and others, against any, however respectable, in favour of the abolition. But this was not necessary. There was another species of facts, which would answer the same end. Previously to the year 1730 the decrease of the slaves in our islands was very considerable. From 1730 to 1755 the deaths were reduced to only two and a half per cent. above the births: from 1755 to 1768 to only one and three fourths; and from 1768 to 1788 to only one per cent. This then, on the first view of the subject, would show, that whatever might have been the situation of slaves formerly, it had been gradually improved. But if, in addition to this, we considered the peculiar disadvantages under which they laboured; the small proportion of females to males; and the hurricanes, and famines, which had swept away thousands, we should find it physically impossible, that they could have increased as related, if they had been treated as cruelly as the friends of the abolition had described. This species of facts would enable him also to draw still more important conclusions; namely, that as the slaves in the West Indies had gradually increased, they would continue to increase; that very few years would pass, not only before the births were equal to the deaths, but before they were more numerous than the deaths; and that if this was likely to happen in the present state of things, how much more would it happen, if by certain regulations the increase of the slaves should be encouraged? The only question then was, whether it was more advantageous to breed or to import. He thought he should prove the former; and if so, then this increase was inevitable, and the importations would necessarily cease. In the first place, the gradual increase of the slaves of late years clearly proved, that such increase had been encouraged. But their price had been doubled in the last twenty years. The planter therefore must feel it his interest to desist from purchasing, if possible. But again, the greatest mortality was among the newly imported slaves. The diseases they contracted on the passage, and their deaths in the seasoning, all made for the same doctrine. Add to this, that slaves bred in the islands were more expert at colonial labour, more reconciled to their situation, and better disposed towards their masters, than those who were brought from Africa. But it had been said, that the births and deaths in the islands were now equal; and, that therefore no further supply was wanted. He denied the propriety of this inference. The slaves were subject to peculiar diseases. They were exposed also to hurricanes and consequent famines. That the day, however, would come, when the stock there would be sufficient, no person who attended to the former part of his argument could doubt. That they had gradually increased, were gradually, increasing, and would, by certain regulations, increase more and more, must be equally obvious. But these were all considerations for continuing the traffic a little longer. He then desired the House to reflect upon the state of St. Domingo. Had not its calamities been imputed by its own deputies to the advocates for the abolition? Were ever any scenes of horror equal to those which had passed there? And should we, when principles of the same sort were lurking in our own islands, expose our fellow-subjects to the same miseries, who, if guilty of promoting this trade, had, at least, been encouraged in it by ourselves? That the Slave-trade was an evil, he admitted. That the state of slavery itself was likewise an evil, he admitted; and if the question was, not whether we should abolish, but whether we should establish these, he would be the first to oppose himself to their existence; but there were many evils, which we should have thought it our duty to prevent, yet which, when they had once arisen, it was more dangerous to oppose than to submit to. The duty of a statesman was, to consider abstractedly what was right or wrong, but to weigh the consequences which were likely to result from the abolition of an evil, against those, which were likely to result from its continuance. Agreeing then most perfectly with the abolitionists in their end, he differed from them only in the means of accomplishing it. He was desirous of doing that gradually, which he conceived they were doing rashly. He had therefore drawn up two propositions. The first was, That an address be presented to His Majesty, that he would recommend to the colonial assemblies to grant premiums to such planters, and overseers, as should distinguish themselves by promoting the annual increase of the slaves by birth; and likewise freedom to every female slave, who had reared five children to the age of seven years. The second was, That a bounty of five pounds per head be given to the master of every slave-ship, who should import in any cargo a greater number of females than males, not exceeding the age of twenty-five years. To bring forward these propositions, he would now move that the chairman leave the chair. Mr. Este wished the debate to be adjourned. He allowed there ware many enormities in the trade, which called for regulation. There were two propositions before the House: the one for the immediate, and the other for the gradual, abolition of the trade. He thought that members should be allowed time to compare their respective merits. At present his own opinion was, that gradual abolition would answer the end proposed in the least exceptionable manner. Mr. Pitt rejoiced that the debate had taken a turn, which contracted the question into such narrow limits. The matter then in dispute was merely as to the time at which the abolition should take place. He therefore congratulated the House, the country, and the world, that this great point had been gained; that we might now consider this trade as having received its condemnation; that this curse of mankind was seen in its true light; and that the greatest stigma on our national character, which ever yet existed, was about to be removed! Mankind, he trusted, were now likely to be delivered from the greatest practical evil that ever afflicted the human race--from the most severe and extensive calamity recorded in the history of the world. His honourable friend (Mr. Jenkinson) had insinuated, that any act for the abolition would be evaded. But if we were to enforce this act with all the powers of the country, how could it fail to be effectual? But his honourable friend had himself satisfied him upon this point. He had acknowledged, that the trade would drop of itself, on account of the increasing dearness of the commodity imported. He would ask then, if we were to leave to the importer no means of importation but by smuggling; and if, besides all the present disadvantages, we were to load him with all the charges and hazards of the smuggler, would there be any danger of any considerable supply of fresh slaves being poured into the islands through this channel? The question under these circumstances, he pronounced, would not bear a dispute. His honourable friend had also maintained, that it would be inexpedient to stop the importations immediately, because the deaths and births in the islands were as yet not equal. But he (Mr. Pitt) had proved last year, from the most authentic documents, that an increase of the births above the deaths had already taken place. This then was the time for beginning the abolition. But he would now observe, that five years had elapsed since these documents were framed; and therefore the presumption was, that the Black population was increasing at an extraordinary rate. He had not, to be sure, in his consideration of the subject, entered into the dreadful mortality arising from the clearing of new lands. Importations for this purpose were to be considered, not as carrying on the trade, but as setting on foot a Slave-trade, a measure which he believed no one present would then support. He therefore asked his honourable friend, whether the period he had looked to was now arrived? whether the West Indies, at this hour, were not in a state, in which they could maintain their population? It had been argued, that one or other of these two assertions was false; that either the population of the slaves must be decreasing, (which the abolitionists denied,) or, if it was increasing, the slaves must have been well treated. That their population was rather increasing than otherwise, and also that their general treatment was by no means so good as it ought to have been, were both points which had been proved by different witnesses. Neither were they incompatible with each other. But he would see whether the explanation of this seeming contradiction would not refute the argument of expediency, as advanced by his honourable friend. Did the slaves decrease in numbers?--Yes. Then ill usage must have been the cause of it; but if so, the abolition was immediately necessary to restrain it. Did they, on the other hand, increase?--Yes. But if so, no further importations were wanted: Was their population (to take a middle course) nearly stationary, and their treatment neither so good nor so bad as it might be?--Yes. But if so, this was the proper period for stopping further supplies; for both the population and the treatment would be improved by such a measure. But he would show again the futility of the argument of his honourable friend. He himself had admitted, that it was in the power of the colonists to correct the various abuses, by which the Negro population was restrained. But they could not do this without improving the condition of their slaves; without making them approximate towards the rank of citizens; without giving them some little interest in their labour, which would occasion them to work with the energy of men. But now the Assembly of Grenada had themselves stated, "that though the Negros were allowed the afternoons of only one day in every week, they would do as much work in that afternoon, when employed for their own benefit, as in the whole day, when employed in their masters' service." Now after this confession, the House might burn all his calculations relative to the Negro population; for, if it had not yet quite reached the desirable state which he had pointed out, this confession had proved, that further supplies were not wanted. A Negro, if he worked for himself, could do double work. By an improvement then in the mode of labour, the work in the islands could be doubled. But if so, what would become of the argument of his honourable friend? for then only half the number of the present labourers were necessary. He would now try this argument of expediency by other considerations. The best informed writers on the subject had told us, that the purchase of new Negros was injurious to the planters. But if this statement was just, would not the abolition be beneficial to them? That it would, was the opinion of Mr. Long, their own historian. "If the Slave-trade," says he, "was prohibited for four or five years, it would enable them, to retrieve their affairs by preventing them from running into debt, either by renting or purchasing Negros." To this acknowledgment he would add a fact from the evidence, which was, that a North American province, by such a prohibition alone for a few years, from being deeply plunged in debt, had become independent, rich, and flourishing. The next consideration was the danger, to which the islands were exposed from the newly imported slaves. Mr. Long, with a view of preventing insurrections, had advised, that a duty, equal to a prohibition, might be laid on the importation of Coromantine slaves. After noticing one insurrection, which happened through their means, he speaks of another in the following year, in which thirty-three Coromantines, "most of whom had been newly imported, murdered and wounded no less than nineteen Whites in the space of an hour." To the authority of Mr. Long he would add the recorded opinion of a Committee of the House of Assembly of Jamaica, which was appointed to inquire into the best means of preventing future insurrections. The Committee reported, that "the rebellion had originated, like most others, with the Coromantines," and they proposed that a bill should be brought in for laying a higher duty on the importation of these particular Negros, which should operate as a prohibition. But the danger was not confined to the introduction of Coromantines. Mr. Long accounts for the frequent insurrections in Jamaica from the greatness of its general importations. "In two years and a half," says he, "twenty-seven thousand Negros have been imported--No wonder that we have rebellions!" Surely then, when his honourable friend spoke of the calamities of St. Domingo, and of similar dangers impending over our own islands, it ill became him to be the person to cry out for further importations! It ill became him to charges upon the abolitionists the crime of stirring up insurrections, who only recommended what the Legislature of Jamaica itself had laid down in a time of danger with an avowed view to prevent them. It was indeed a great satisfaction to himself, that among the many arguments for prohibiting the Slave-trade, the security of our West Indian possessions against internal commotions, as well as foreign enemies, was among the most prominent and forcible. And here he would ask his honourable friend, whether in this part of the argument he did not see reason for immediate abolition. Why should we any longer persist in introducing those latent principles of conflagration, which, if they should once burst forth, might annihilate the industry of a hundred years? which might throw the planters back a whole century in their profits, in their cultivation, and in their progress towards the emancipation of their slaves? It was our duty to vote, that the abolition of the Slave-trade should be immediate, and not to leave it to he knew not what future time or contingency. Having now done with the argument of expediency, he would consider the proposition of his right honourable friend Mr. Dundas; that, on account of some patrimonial rights of the West Indians, the prohibition of the Slave-trade would be an invasion of their legal inheritance. He would first observe, that, if this argument was worth any thing, it applied just as much to gradual as to immediate abolition. He had no doubt, that, at whatever period we should say the trade should cease, it would be equally set up; for it would certainly be just as good an argument against the measure in seventy years hence, as it was against it now. It implied also, that Parliament had no right to stop the importations: but had this detestable traffic received such a sanction, as placed it more out of the jurisdiction of the legislature for ever after, than any other branch of our trade? In what a situation did the proposition of his honourable friend place the legislature of Great Britain! It was scarcely possible to lay a duty on any one article, which might not in some way affect the property of individuals. But if the laws respecting the Slave-trade implied a contract for its perpetual continuance, the House could never regulate any other of the branches of our national commerce. But any contract for the promotion of this trade must, in his opinion, have been void from the beginning: for if it was an outrage upon justice, and only another name for fraud, robbery, and murder, What pledge could devolve upon the legislature to incur the obligation of becoming principals in the commission of such enormities by sanctioning their continuance? But he would appeal to the acts themselves. That of 23 George II. c. 31, was the one upon which the greatest stress was laid. How would the House be surprised to hear, that the very outrages committed in the prosecution of this trade had been forbidden by that act! "No master of a ship trading to Africa," says the act, "shall by fraud, force, or violence, or by any indirect practice whatever, take on board or carry away from that coast any Negro, or native of that country, or commit any violence on the natives, to the prejudice of the said trade; and every person so offending, shall for every such offence forfeit one hundred pounds." But the whole trade had been demonstrated to be a system of fraud, force, and violence; and therefore the contract was daily violated, under which the Parliament allowed it to continue. But why had the trade ever been permitted at all? The preamble of the act would show: "Whereas the trade to and from Africa is very advantageous to Great Britain, and necessary for supplying the Plantations and Colonies thereunto belonging with a sufficient number of Negros at reasonable rates, and for that purpose the said trade should be carried on"--Here then we might see what the Parliament had in view, when it passed this act. But no one of the occasions, on which it grounded its proceedings, now existed. He would plead, then, the act itself as an argument for the abolition. If it had been proved that, instead of being very advantageous to Great Britain, it was the most destructive to her interests--that it was the ruin of her seamen--that it stopped the extension of her manufactures;--if it had been proved, in the second place, that it was not now necessary for the supply of our Plantations with Negros;--if it had been further established, that it was from the beginning contrary to the first principles of justice, and consequently that a pledge for its continuance, had one been attempted to be given, must have been absolutely void--where in this act of parliament was the contract to be found, by which Britain was bound, as she was said to be, never to listen to her own true interests and to the cries of the natives of Africa? Was it not clear, that all argument, founded on the supposed pledge of Parliament, made against those who employed it? But if we were not bound by existing laws to the support of this trade, we were doubly criminal in pursuing it: for why ought it to be abolished at all? Because it was incurable injustice. Africa was the ground, on which he chiefly rested; and there it was, that his two honourable friends, one of whom had proposed gradual abolition, and the other regulation, did not carry their principles to their full extent. Both had confessed the trade to be a moral evil. How much stronger then was the argument for immediate than for gradual abolition! If on the ground of a moral evil it was to be abolished at last, why ought it not now? Why was injustice to be suffered to remain for a single hour? He knew of no evil, which ever had existed, nor could he imagine any to exist, worse than the tearing of eighty thousand persons annually from their native land, by a combination of the most civilized nations, in the most enlightened quarter of the globe; but more especially by that nation, which called herself the most free and the most happy of them all. He would now notice the objection, that other nations would not give up the Slave-trade, if we were to renounce it. But if the trade were stained but by a thousandth part of the criminality, which he and others, after a thorough investigation of the subject, charged upon it, the House ought immediately to vote its abolition. This miserable argument, if persevered in, would be an eternal bar to the annihilation of the evil. How was it ever to be eradicated, if every nation was thus prudentially to wait till the concurrence of all the world should be obtained? But it applied a thousand times more strongly in a contrary way. How much more justly would other nations say, "Great Britain, free as she is, just and honourable as she is, not only has not abolished, but has refused to abolish, the Slave-trade. She has investigated it well. Her senate has deliberated upon it. It is plain, then, that she sees no guilt in it." With this argument we should furnish the other nations of Europe, if we were again to refuse to put an end to this cruel traffic: and we should have from henceforth not only to answer for our own, but for their crimes also. Already we had suffered one year to pass away; and now, when the question was renewed, not only had this wretched argument been revived, but a proposition had been made for the gradual abolition of the trade. He knew indeed the difficulty of reforming long established abuses: but in the present case, by proposing some other period than the present, by prescribing some condition, by waiting for some contingency, perhaps till we obtained the general concurrence of Europe, (a concurrence which he believed never yet took place at the commencement of any one improvement in policy or morals,) he feared that this most enormous evil would never be redressed. Was it not folly to wait for the stream to run down before we crossed the bed of its channel? Alas! we might wait for ever. The river would still flow on. We should be no nearer the object, which we had in view, so long as the step, which could alone bring us to it, was not taken. He would now proceed to the civilization of Africa; and as his eye had just glanced upon a West Indian law in the evidence upon the table, he would begin with an argument, which the sight of it had suggested to him. This argument had been ably answered in the course of the evening; but he would view it in yet another light. It had been said, that the savage disposition of the Africans rendered the prospect of their civilization almost hopeless. This argument was indeed of long standing; but, last year, it had been supported upon a new ground. Captain Frazer had stated in his evidence, that a boy had been put to death at Cabenda, because there were those who refused to purchase him as a slave. This single story was deemed by him, and had been considered by others, as a sufficient proof of the barbarity of the Africans, and of the inutility of abolishing the Slave-trade. But they, who had used this fact, had suppressed several circumstances relating to it. It appeared, on questioning Captain Frazer afterward, that this boy had previously run away from his master three several times; that the master had to pay his value, according to the custom of the country, every time he was brought back; and that partly from anger at the boy for running away so frequently, and partly to prevent a repetition of the same expense, he determined to destroy him. Such was the explanation of the signal instance, which was to fix barbarity on all Africa, as it came out in the cross-examination of Captain Frazer. That this African master was unenlightened and barbarous, he freely admitted: but what would an enlightened and civilized West Indian have done in a similar case? He would quote the law, passed in the West Indies in 1722, which he had just cast his eye upon in the book of evidence, by which law this very same crime of running away was by the legislature of an island, by the grave and deliberate sentence of an enlightened legislature, punished with death; and this, not in the case only of the third offence, but even in the very first instance. It was enacted, "That, if any Negro or other slave should withdraw himself from his master for the term of six months; or any slave, who was absent, should not return within that time, every such person should suffer death." There was also another West Indian law, by which every Negro was armed against his fellow-negro, for he was authorized to kill every runaway slave; and he had even a reward held out to him for so doing. Let the House now contrast the two cases. Let them ask themselves which of the two exhibited the greater barbarity; and whether they could possibly vote for the continuance of the Slave-trade, upon the principle, that the Africans had shown themselves to be a race of incorrigible barbarians? Something like an opposite argument, but with a like view, had been maintained by others on this subject. It had been said, in justification of the trade, that the Africans had derived some little civilization from their intercourse with us. Yes: we had given them just enough of the forms of justice to enable them to add the pretext of legal trials to their other modes of perpetrating the most atrocious crimes. We had given them just enough of European improvements, to enable them the more effectually to turn Africa into a ravaged wilderness. Alas! alas! we had carried on a trade with them from this civilized and enlightened country, which, instead of diffusing knowledge, had been a check to every laudable pursuit. We had carried a poison into their country, which spread its contagious effects from one end of it to the other, and which penetrated to its very centre, corrupting every part to which it reached. We had there subverted the whole order of nature; we had aggravated every natural barbarity, and furnished to every man motives for committing, under the name of trade, acts of perpetual hostility and perfidy against his neighbour. Thus had the perversion of British commerce carried misery instead of happiness to one whole quarter of the globe. False to the very principles of trade, misguided in our policy, unmindful of our duty, what almost irreparable mischief had we done to that continent! How should we hope to obtain forgiveness from Heaven, if we refused to use those means, which the mercy of Providence had still reserved to us for wiping away the guilt and shame, with which we were now covered? If we refused even this degree of compensation, how aggravated would be our guilt! Should we delay, then, to repair these incalculable injuries? We ought to count the days, nay the very hours, which intervened to delay the accomplishment of such a work. On this great subject, the civilization of Africa, which, he confessed, was near his heart, he would yet add a few observations. And first he would say, that the present deplorable state of that country, especially when we reflected that her chief calamities were to be ascribed to us, called for our generous aid, rather than justified any despair, on our part, of her recovery, and still less a repetition of our injuries. On what ground of theory or history did we act, when we supposed that she was never to be reclaimed? There was a time, which it might be now fit to call to remembrance, when human sacrifices, and even, this very practice of the Slave-trade, existed in our own island. Slaves, as we may read in Henry's History of Great Britain, were formerly an established article of our exports. "Great numbers," he says, "were exported, like cattle, from the British coast, and were to be seen exposed for sale in the Roman market."--"Adultery, witchcraft, and debt," says the same historian, "were probably some of the chief sources of supplying the Roman market with British slaves--prisoners taken in war were added to the number--there might be also among them some unfortunate gamesters, who, after having lost all their goods, at length, staked themselves, their wives, and their children." Now every one of these sources of slavery had been stated to be at this hour a source of slavery in Africa. If these practices, therefore, were to be admitted as proofs of the natural incapacity of its inhabitants, why might they not have been applied to ancient Britain? Why might not then some Roman senator, pointing to British barbarians, have predicted with equal boldness, that these were a people, who were destined never to be free; who were without the understanding necessary for the attainment of useful arts; depressed by the hand of Nature below the level of the human species; and created to form a supply of slaves for the rest of the world? But happily, since that time, notwithstanding what would then have been the justness of these predictions, we had emerged from barbarism. We were now raised to a situation, which exhibited a striking contrast to every circumstance, by which a Roman might have characterized us, and by which we now characterized Africa. There was indeed one thing wanting to complete the contrast, and to clear us altogether from the imputation of acting even to this hour as barbarians; for we continued to this hour a barbarous traffic in slaves. We continued it even yet, in spite of all our great pretensions. We were once as obscure among the nations of the earth, as savage in our manners, as debased in our morals, as degraded in our understandings, as these unhappy Africans. But in the lapse of a long series of years, by a progression slow, and for a time almost imperceptible, we had become rich in a variety of acquirements. We were favoured above measure in the gifts of Providence, we were unrivalled in commerce, preeminent in arts, foremost in the pursuits of philosophy and science, and established in all the blessings of civil society: we were in the possession of peace, of liberty, and of happiness: we were under the guidance of a mild and a beneficent religion; and we were protected by impartial laws, and the purest administration of justice: we were living under a system of government, which our own happy experience led us to pronounce the best and wisest, and which had become the admiration of the world. From all these blessings we must for ever have been excluded, had there been any truth in those principles, which some had not hesitated to lay down as applicable to the case of Africa; and we should have been at this moment little superior, either in morals, knowledge, or refinement, to the rude inhabitants of that continent. If then we felt that this perpetual confinement in the fetters of brutal ignorance would have been the greatest calamity which could have befallen us; if we viewed with gratitude the contrast between our present and our former situation; if we shuddered to think of the misery, which would still have overwhelmed us, had our country continued to the present times, through some cruel policy, to be the mart for slaves to the more civilized nations of the world;--God forbid, that we should any longer subject Africa to the same dreadful scourge, and exclude the sight of knowledge from her coasts, which had reached every other quarter of the globe! He trusted we should no longer continue this commerce; and that we should no longer consider ourselves as conferring too great a boon on the natives of Africa in restoring them to the rank of human beings. He trusted we should not think ourselves too liberal, if, by abolishing the Slave-trade, we gave them the same common chance of civilization with other parts of the world. If we listened to the voice of reason and duty this night, some of us might live to see a reverse of that picture, from which we now turned our eyes with shame. We might live to behold the natives engaged in the calm occupations of industry, and in the pursuit of a just commerce. We might behold the beams of science and philosophy breaking in upon their land, which at some happy period in still later times might blaze with full lustre; and joining their influence to that of pure religion, might illuminate and invigorate the most distant extremities of that immense continent. Then might we hope, that even Africa (though last of all the quarters of the globe) should enjoy at length, in the evening of her days, those blessings, which had descended so plentifully upon us in a much earlier period of the world. Then also would Europe, participating in her improvement and prosperity, receive an ample recompense for the tardy kindness (if kindness it could be called) of no longer hindering her from extricating herself out of the darkness, which, in other more fortunate regions, had been so much more speedily dispelled. --Nos primus equis Oriens afflavit anhelis; Illic sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper. Then might be applied to Africa those words, originally used indeed with a different view: Hic demum exactis ---- ---- Devenere locos laetos, et amoena vireta Fortunatorum nemorum, sedesque beatas; Largior hic campos aether et lumine vestit Purpurco: It was in this view--it was as an atonement for our long and cruel injustice towards Africa, that the measure proposed by his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce most forcibly recommended itself to his mind. The great and happy change to be expected in the state of her inhabitants was, of all the various benefits of the abolition, in his estimation the most extensive and important. He should vote against the adjournment; and he should also oppose every proposition, which tended either to prevent, or even to postpone for an hour, the total abolition of the Slave-trade. Mr. Pitt having concluded his speech (at about six in the morning), Sir William Dolben, the chairman, proposed the following questions. The first was on the motion of Mr. Jenkinson, "that the chairman do now leave the chair." This was lost by a majority of two hundred and thirty-four to eighty-seven. The second was on the motion of Mr. Dundas, "that the abolition should be gradual;" when the votes for gradual exceeded those for immediate by one hundred and ninety-three to one hundred and twenty-five. He then put the amended question, that "it was the opinion of the committee, that the trade ought to be gradually abolished." The committee having divided again, the votes for a gradual abolition were two hundred and thirty, and those against any abolition were eighty-five. After this debate, the committee for the abolition of the Slave-trade held a meeting. They voted their thanks to Mr. Wilberforce for his motion, and to Mr. Pitt, Mr. Fox, and those other members of the House, who had supported it. They resolved also, that the House of Commons, having determined that the Slave-trade ought to be gradually abolished, had by that decision manifested their opinion, that it was cruel and unjust. They resolved also, that a gradual abolition of it was not an adequate remedy for its injustice and cruelty; neither could it be deemed a compliance with the general wishes of the people, as expressed in their numerous and urgent petitions to Parliament. And they resolved lastly, that the interval, in which the Slave-trade should be permitted to continue, afforded a prospect of redoubled cruelties and ravages on the coast of Africa; and that it imposed therefore an additional obligation on every friend to the cause to use all constitutional means to obtain its immediate abolition. At a subsequent meeting they voted their thanks to the right honourable Lord Muncaster, for the able support he had given to the great object of their institution by his Historical Sketches of the Slave-trade, and of its Effects in Africa, addressed to the People of Great Britain; and they elected the Reverend Richard Gifford and the Reverend Thomas Gisborne honorary and corresponding members; the first on account of his excellent sermon before mentioned and other services, and the latter on account of his truly Christian and seasonable pamphlet, entitled Remarks on the late Decision of the House of Commons respecting the Abolition of the Slave-trade. On the twenty-third of April, the House of Commons resolved itself into a committee of the whole House, to consider the subject again; and Mr. Beaufoy was put into the chair. Mr. Dundas, upon whom the task of introducing a bill for the gradual abolition of the Slave-trade now devolved, rose to offer the outlines of a plan for that purpose. He intended, he said, immediately to abolish that part of the trade, by which we supplied foreigners with slaves. The other part of it was to be continued seven years from the first of January next. He grounded the necessity of its continuance till this time upon the documents of the Negro-population in the different islands. In many of these, slaves were imported, but they were re-exported nearly in equal numbers. Now all these he considered to be in a state to go on without future supplies from Africa. Jamaica and the ceded islands retained almost all the slaves imported into them. This he considered as a proof that these had not attained the same desirable state; and it was therefore necessary, that the trade should be continued longer on this account. It was his intention, however, to provide proper punishments, while it lasted, for abuses both in Africa and the Middle Passage. He would take care, as far as he could, that none but young slaves should be brought from the Coast of Africa. He would encourage establishments there for a new species of traffic. Foreign nations should be invited to concur in the abolition. He should propose a praedial rather than a personal service for the West Indies, and institutions, by which the slaves there should be instructed in religious duties. He concluded by reading several resolutions, which he would leave to the future consideration of the House. Mr. Pitt then rose. He deprecated the resolutions altogether. He denied also the inferences, which Mr. Dundas had drawn from the West-Indian documents relative to the Negro-population. He had looked over his own calculations from the same documents again and again, and he would submit them, with all their data, if it should be necessary, to the House. Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Fox held the same language. They contended also, that Mr. Dundas had now proved, a thousand times more strongly than ever, the necessity of immediate abolition. All the resolutions he had read were operative against his own reasoning. The latter observed, that the Slave-traders were in future only to be allowed to steal innocent children from their disconsolate parents. After a few observations by Lord Sheffield, Mr. Drake, Colonel Tarleton, and Mr. Rolle, the House adjourned. On the twenty-fifth of April it resumed the consideration of the subject. Mr. Dundas then went over his former resolutions, and concluded by moving, "that it should not be lawful to import any African Negros into any British colonies, in ships owned or navigated by British subjects, at any time after the first of January 1800." Lord Mornington (now Marquis Wellesley) rose to propose an amendment. He congratulated his countrymen, that the Slave-trade had received its death-wound. This traffic was founded in injustice; and between right and wrong there could be no compromise. Africa was not to be sacrificed to the apparent good of the West-Indies. He would not repeat those enormities out of the evidence, which had made such a deep impression upon the House. It had been resolved, that the trade should be abolished. The question then was, how long they were to persevere in the crime of its continuance. One had said, that they might be unjust for ten years longer; another, only till the beginning of the next century. But this diversity of opinion had proceeded from an erroneous statement of Mr. Dundas against the clear and irrefragable calculations of Mr. Pitt. The former had argued, that, because Jamaica and the ceded islands had retained almost all the slaves which had been imported into them, they were therefore not yet in a situation to support their population without further supplies from Africa. But the truth was, that the slaves, so retained, were kept, not to maintain the population there, but to clear new land. Now the House had determined, that the trade was not to be continued for this purpose. The population, therefore, in the islands was sufficient to continue the ordinary cultivation of them. He deprecated the idea, that the Slave-trade had been so sanctioned by the acts of former parliaments, that the present could make no alteration in it. Had not the House altered the import of foreign sugar into our islands? a measure, which at the time affected the property of many. Had they not prohibited the exports of provisions from America to the same quarter? Again, as to compacts, had the Africans ever been parties to these? It was rather curious also, when King James the Second gave a charter to the slave-traders, that he should have given them a right to all the south of Africa, and authority over every person born therein! But, by doing this, it was clear, that he gave them a right which he never possessed himself. After many other observations, he concluded by moving, "that the year 1793 be substituted in the place of the year 1800." In the course of the debate, which followed, Mr. Burdon stated his conviction of the necessity of immediate abolition; but he would support the amendment, as the shortest of the terms proposed. Mr. Robert Thornton would support it also, as the only choice left him. He dared not accede to a motion, by which we were to continue for seven years to imbrue our hands in innocent blood. Mr. Ryder would not support the trade for one moment, if he could avoid it. He could not hold a balance with gold in one scale, and blood in the other. Mr. William Smith exposed the wickedness of restricting the trade to certain ages. The original motion, he said, would only operate as a transfer of cruelty from the aged and the guilty to the young and the innocent. He entreated the House to consider, whether, if it related to their own children, any one of them would vote for it. Mr. Windham had hitherto felt a reluctance to speaking, not from the abstruseness, but from the simplicity, of the subject; but he could not longer be silent, when he observed those arguments of policy creeping again out of their lurking-places, which had fled before eloquence and truth. The House had clearly given up the policy of the question. They had been determined by the justice of it. Why were they then to be troubled again with arguments of this nature? These, if admitted, would go to the subversion of all public as well as private morality. Nations were as much bound as individuals to a system of morals, though a breach in the former could not be so easily punished. In private life morality took pretty good care of itself. It was a kind of retail article, in which the returns were speedy. If a man broke open his neighbour's house, he would feel the consequences. There was an ally of virtue, who rendered it the interest of individuals to be moral, and he was called the executioner. But as such punishment did not always await us in our national concerns, we should substitute honour as the guardian of our national conduct. He hoped the West-Indians would consider the character of the mother-country, and the obligations to national as well as individual justice. He hoped also they would consider the sufferings, which they occasioned both in Africa, in the passage, and in the West-Indies. In the passage indeed no one was capable of describing them. The section of the slave-ship, however, made up the deficiency of language, and did away all necessity of argument, on this subject. Disease there had to struggle with the new affliction of chains and punishment. At one view were the irksomeness of a gaol, and the miseries of an hospital; so that the holds of these vessels put him in mind of the regions of the damned. The trade, he said, ought immediately to be abolished. On a comparison of the probable consequences of the abolition of it, he saw on one side only doubtful contingencies, but on the other shame and disgrace. Sir James Johnstone contended for the immediate abolition of the trade. He had introduced the plough into his own plantation in the West Indies, and he found the land produced more sugar than when cultivated in the ordinary way by slaves. Even for the sake of the planters, he hoped the abolition would not be long delayed. Mr. Dundas replied: after which a division took place. The number of votes in favour of the original motion were one hundred and fifty-eight, and for the amendment one hundred and nine. On the 27th of April the House resumed the subject. Mr. Dundas moved, as before, that the Slave-trade should cease in the year 1800; upon which Lord Mornington moved, that the year 1795 should be substituted for the latter period. In the course of the debate, which followed, Mr. Hubbard said, that he had voted against the abolition, when the year 1793 was proposed; but he thought that, if it were not to take place till 1795, sufficient time would be allowed the planters. He would support this amendment; and he congratulated the House on the prospect of the final triumph of truth, humanity, and justice. Mr. Addington preferred the year 1796 to the year 1795. Mr. Alderman Watson considered the abolition in 1796 to be as destructive as if it were immediate. A division having taken place, the number of votes in favour of the original motion were one hundred and sixty-one, and in favour of Lord Mornington's amendment for the year 1795, one hundred and twenty-one. Sir Edward Knatchbull, however, seeing that there was a disposition in the House to bring the matter to a conclusion, and that a middle line would be preferred, moved that the year 1796 should be substituted for the year 1800. Upon this the House divided again; when there appeared for the original motion only one hundred and thirty-two, but for the amendment one hundred and fifty-one. The gradual abolition having been now finally agreed upon for the year 1796, a committee was named, which carried the resolution to the Lords. On the eighth of May, the Lords were summoned to consider it. Lord Stormont, after having spoken for some time, moved, that they should hear evidence upon it. Lord Grenville opposed the motion on account of the delay, which would arise from an examination of the witnesses by the House at large: but he moved that such witnesses should be examined by a committee of the House. Upon this a debate ensued, and afterwards a division; when the original motion was carried by sixty-three against thirty-six. On the 15th of May the Lords met again. Evidence was then ordered to be summoned in behalf of those interested in the continuance of the trade. At length it was introduced; but on the fifth of June, when only seven persons had been examined, a motion was made and carried, that the farther examinations should be postponed to the next session. CHAPTER V. _Continuation from July 1792 to July 1793--Author travels round the kingdom again--Motion to renew the resolution of the last year in the Commons--Motion lost--New Motion in the Commons to abolish the foreign Slave-trade--Motion lost--Proceedings of the Lords._ The resolution adopted by the Commons, that the trade should cease in 1796, was a matter of great joy to many; and several, in consequence of it, returned to the use of sugar. The committee, however, for the abolition did not view it in the same favourable light. They considered it as a political manoeuvre to frustrate the accomplishment of the object. But the circumstance, which gave them the most concern, was the resolution of the Lords to hear evidence. It was impossible now to say, when the trade would cease. The witnesses in behalf of the merchants and planters had obtained possession of the ground; and they might keep it, if they chose, even till the year 1800, to throw light upon a measure which was to be adopted in 1796. The committee found too, that they had again the laborious task before them of finding out new persons to give testimony in behalf of their cause; for some of their former witnesses were dead, and others were out of the kingdom; and unless they replaced these, there would be no probability of making out that strong case in the Lords, which they had established in the Commons. It devolved therefore upon me once more to travel for this purpose: but as I was then in too weak a state to bear as much fatigue as formerly, Dr. Dickson relieved me, by taking one part of the tour, namely, that to Scotland, upon himself. These journeys we performed with considerable success; during which the committee elected Mr. Joseph Townsend of Baltimore, in Maryland, an honorary and corresponding member. Parliament having met, Mr. Wilberforce, in February 1793, moved, that the House resolve itself into a committee of the whole House on Thursday next, to consider of the circumstances of the Slave-trade. This motion was opposed by Sir William Yonge, who moved, that this day six months should be substituted for Thursday next. A debate ensued: of this, however, as well as of several which followed, I shall give no account; as it would be tedious to the reader to hear a repetition of the same arguments. Suffice it to say, that the motion was lost by a majority of sixty-one to fifty-three. This sudden refusal of the House of Commons to renew their own vote of the former year gave great uneasiness to the friends of the cause. Mr. Wilberforce, however, resolved, that the session should not pass without an attempt to promote it in another form; and accordingly, on the fourteenth of May, he moved for leave to bring in a bill to abolish that part of the Slave-trade, by which the British merchants supplied foreigners with slaves. This motion was opposed like the former; but was carried by a majority of seven. The bill was then brought in; and it passed its first and second reading with little opposition; but on the fifth of June, notwithstanding the eloquence of Mr. Pitt and of Mr. Fox, and the very able speeches of Mr. Francis, Mr. Courtenay, and others, it was lost by a majority of thirty-one to twenty-nine. In the interval between these motions the question experienced in the Lords considerable opposition. The Duke of Clarence moved that the House should not proceed in the consideration of the Slave-trade till after the Easter recess. The Earl of Abingdon was still more hostile afterwards. He deprecated the new philosophy. It was as full of mischief as the Box of Pandora. The doctrine of the abolition of the Slave-trade was a species of it; and he concluded by moving, that all further consideration of the subject be postponed. To the epithet, then bestowed upon the abolition of it by this nobleman, the Duke of Clarence added those of fanatics and hypocrites! among whom he included Mr. Wilberforce by name. All the other Lords, however, who were present, manifested such a dislike to the sentiments of the Earl of Abingdon, that he withdrew this motion. After this the hearing of evidence on the resolution of the House of Commons was resumed; and seven persons were examined before the close of the session. CHAPTER VI. _Continuation from July 1793 to July 1794--Author travels round the kingdom again--Motion to abolish the foreign Slave-trade renewed in the Commons--and carried--but lost in the Lords--further proceedings there--Author, on account of his declining health, obliged to retire from the cause._ The committee for the abolition could not view the proceedings of both Houses of Parliament on this subject during the year 1793, without being alarmed for the fate of their question. The only two sources of hope, which they could discover, were in the disposition then manifested by the peers as to the conduct of the Earl of Abingdon, and in their determination to proceed in the hearing of evidence. The latter circumstance indeed was the more favourable, as the resolution, upon which the witnesses were to be examined, had not been renewed by the Commons. These considerations, however, afforded no solid ground for the mind to rest upon. They only broke in upon it, like faint gleams of sunshine, for a moment, and then were gone. In this situation the committee could only console themselves by the reflection, that they had done their duty. In looking, however, to their future services, one thing, and only one, seemed practicable; and this was necessary; namely, to complete the new body of evidence, which they had endeavoured to form in the preceding year. The determination to do this rendered another journey on my part indispensable; and I undertook it, broken down us my constitution then was, beginning it in September 1793, and completing it in February 1794. Mr. Wilberforce, in this interval, had digested his plan of operations; and accordingly, early in the session of 1794, he asked leave to renew his former bill, to abolish that part of the trade, by means of which British merchants supplied foreigners with slaves. This request was opposed by Sir William Yonge; but it was granted, on a division of the House, by a majority of sixty-three to forty votes. When the bill was brought in, it was opposed by the same member; upon which the House divided; and there appeared for Sir William Yonge's amendment thirty-eight votes, but against it fifty-six. On a motion for the recommitment of the bill, Lord Sheffield divided the House, against whose motion there was a majority of forty-two. And, on the third reading of it, it was opposed again; but it was at length carried. The speakers against the bill were; Sir William Yonge, Lord Sheffield, Colonel Tarleton, Alderman Newnham, and Mr. Payne, Este, Lechmere, Cawthorne, Jenkinson, and Dent. Those who spoke in favour of it were; Mr. Pitt, Fox, William Smith, Whitbread, Francis, Burdon, Vaughan, Barham, and Serjeants Watson and Adair. While the foreign Slave-bill was thus passing its stages in the Commons, Dr. Horsley, bishop of Rochester, who saw no end to the examinations, while the witnesses were to be examined at the bar of the House of Lords, moved, that they should be taken in future before a committee above-stairs. Dr. Porteus, bishop of London, and the Lords Guildford, Stanhope, and Grenville, supported this motion. But the Lord Chancellor Thurlow, aided by the Duke of Clarence, and by the Lords Mansfield, Hay, Abingdon, and others, negatived it by a majority of twenty-eight. At length the bill itself was ushered into the House of Lords. On reading it a second time, it was opposed by the Duke of Clarence, Lord Abingdon, and others. Lord Grenville and the Bishop of Rochester declined supporting it. They alleged, as a reason, that they conceived the introduction of it to have been improper pending the inquiry on the general subject of the Slave-trade. This declaration brought up the Lords Stanhope and Lauderdale, who charged them with inconsistency as professed friends of the cause. At length the bill was lost. During these discussions the examination of the witnesses was resumed by the Lords; but only two of them were heard in this session[A]. [Footnote A: After this the examinations wholly dropped in the House of Lords.] After this decision the question was in a desperate state; for if the Commons would not renew their own resolution, and the Lords would not abolish the foreign part of the Slave-trade, What hope was there, of success? It was obvious too, that in the former House, Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas voted against each other. In the latter, the Lord Chancellor Thurlow opposed every motion in favour of the cause. The committee therefore were reduced to this;--either they must exert themselves without hope, or they must wait till some change should take place in their favour. As far as I myself was concerned, all exertion was then over. The nervous system was almost shattered to pieces. Both my memory and my hearing failed me. Sudden dizziness seized my head. A confused singing in the ears followed me, wherever I went. On going to bed the very stairs seemed to dance up and down under me, so that, misplacing my foot, I sometimes fell. Talking too, if it continued but half an hour, exhausted me, so that profuse perspirations followed; and the same effect was produced even by an active exertion of the mind for the like time. These disorders had been brought on by degrees in consequence of the severe labours necessarily attached to the promotion of the cause. For seven years I had a correspondence to maintain with four hundred persons with my own hand. I had some book or other annually to write in behalf of the cause. In this time I had travelled more than thirty-five thousand miles in search of evidence, and a great part of these journeys in the night. All this time my mind had been on the stretch. It had been bent too to this one subject; for I had not even leisure to attend to my own concerns. The various instances of barbarity, which had come successively to my knowledge within this period, had vexed, harassed, and afflicted it. The wound, which these had produced, was rendered still deeper by those cruel disappointments before related, which arose from the reiterated refusal of persons to give their testimony, after I had travelled hundreds of miles in quest of them. But the severest stroke was that inflicted by the persecution, begun and pursued by persons interested in the continuance of the trade, of such witnesses as had been examined against them; and whom, on account of their dependent situation in life, it was most easy to oppress. As I had been the means of bringing these forward on these occasions, they naturally came to me, when thus persecuted, as the author of their miseries and their ruin. From their supplications and wants it would have been ungenerous and ungrateful to have fled[A]. These different circumstances, by acting together, had at length brought me into the situation just mentioned; and I was therefore obliged, though very reluctantly, to be borne out of the field, where I had placed the great honour and glory of my life. [Footnote A: The late Mr. Whitbread, to whom one day in deep affliction on this account I related accidentally a circumstance of this kind, generously undertook, in order to make my mind easy upon the subject, to make good all injuries, which should in future arise to individuals from such persecution; and he repaired these, at different times, at a considerable expense. I feel it a duty to divulge this circumstance, out of respect to the memory of one of the best of men, and of one, whom, if the history of his life were written, it would appear to have been an extraordinary honour to the country to have produced.] CHAPTER VII. _Continuation from July 1794 to July 1799--Various motions within this period._ I purpose, though it may seem abrupt after the division which has hitherto been made of the contents of this volume, to throw the events of the next five years into one chapter. Mr. Wilberforce and the members of the committee, whose constitutions had not suffered like my own, were still left; and they determined to persevere in the promotion of their great object; as long as their health and their faculties permitted them. The former, accordingly, in the month of February 1795, moved in the House of Commons for leave to bring in a bill for the abolition of the Slave-trade. This motion was then necessary, if, according to the resolution of that House, the Slave-trade was to cease in 1796. It was opposed, however, by Sir William Yonge, and unfortunately lost by a majority of seventy-eight to fifty-seven. In the year 1796 Mr. Wilberforce renewed his efforts in the Commons. He asked leave to bring in a bill for the abolition of the Slave-trade, but in a limited time. The motion was opposed as before; but on a division, there were for it ninety-three, and against it only sixty-seven. The bill having been brought in, was opposed in its second reading; but it was carried through it by a majority of sixty-four to thirty-one. In a future stage it was opposed again; but it triumphed by a majority of seventy-six to thirty-one. Mr. Eliott was then put into the chair. Several clauses were adopted; and the first of March 1797 was fixed for the abolition of the trade: but in the next stage of it, after a long speech from Mr. Dundas, it was lost by a majority of seventy-four against seventy. Mr. Francis, who had made a brilliant speech in the last debate, considering that nothing effectual had been yet done on this great question, and wishing that a practical beginning might be made, brought forward soon afterwards, a motion relative to the improvement of the condition of the slaves in the West Indies. This, after a short debate, was negatived without a division. Mr. William Smith also moved an address to His Majesty, that he would be pleased to give directions to lay before the House copies of the several acts relative to regulations in behalf of the slaves, passed by the different colonial assemblies since the year 1788. This motion was adopted by the House. Thus passed away the session of 1796. In the year 1797, while Mr. Wilberforce was deliberating upon the best measure for the advancement of the cause, Mr. C. Ellis came forward with a new motion. He began by declaring, that he agreed with the abolitionists as to their object; but he differed with them as to the mode of attaining it. The Slave-trade he condemned as a cruel and pernicious system; but, as it had become an inveterate evil, he feared it could not be done away all at once, without injury to the interests of numerous individuals, and even to the Negros themselves. He concluded by moving an address to His Majesty, humbly requesting, that he would give directions to the governors of the West Indian islands, to recommend it to the colonial assemblies to adopt such measures as might appear to them best calculated to ameliorate the condition of the Negros, and thereby to remove gradually the Slave-trade; and likewise to assure His Majesty of the readiness of this House to concur in any measure to accelerate this desirable object. This motion was seconded by Mr. Barham. It was opposed, however, by Mr. Wilberforce, Mr. Pitt, and others; but was at length carried by a majority of ninety-nine to sixty-three. In the year 1798 Mr. Wilberforce asked leave to renew his former bill, to abolish the Slave-trade within a limited time. He was supported by Mr. Canning, Mr. Hobhouse, Sir Robert Buxton, Mr. Bouverie, and others. Mr. Sewell, Bryan Edwards, Henniker, and C. Ellis, took the opposite side of the question. Mr. Ellis, however, observed, that he had no objection to restricting the Slave-trade to plantations already begun in the colonies; and Mr. Barham professed himself a friend to the abolition, if it could be accomplished in a reasonable way. On a division, there appeared to be for Mr. Wilberforce's motion eighty-three, but against it eighty-seven. In the year 1799 Mr. Wilberforce, undismayed by these different disappointments, renewed his motion. Colonel M. Wood, Mr. Petrie, and others, among whom were Mr. Windham and Mr. Dundas, opposed it. Mr. Pitt, Fox, W. Smith, Sir William Dolben, Sir R. Milbank, Mr. Hobhouse, and Mr. Canning, supported it. Sir R. Milbank contended, that modifications of a system fundamentally wrong ought not to be tolerated by the legislature of a free nation. Mr. Hobhouse said, that nothing could be so nefarious as this traffic in blood. It was unjust in its principle. It was cruel in its practice. It admitted of no regulation whatever. The abolition of it was called for equally by morality and sound policy. Mr. Canning exposed the folly of Mr. Dundas, who had said, that as Parliament had in the year 1787 left the abolition to the colonial assemblies, it ought not to be taken out of their hands. This great event, he observed, could only be accomplished in two ways; either by these assemblies, or by the Parliament of England. Now the members of the assembly of Jamaica had professed, that they would never abolish the trade. Was it not therefore idle to rely upon them for the accomplishment of it? He then took a very comprehensive view of the arguments, which had been offered in the course of the debate, and was severe upon the planters in the House, who, he said, had brought into familiar use certain expressions, with no other view than to throw a veil over their odious system. Among these was--their right to import labourers. But never was the word "labourers" so prostituted, as when it was used for slaves. Never was the word "right" so prostituted, not even when The Rights of Man were talked of, as when the right to trade in man's blood was asserted by the members of an enlightened assembly. Never was the right of importing these labourers worse defended than when the antiquity of the Slave-trade, and its foundation on antient acts of parliament, were brought forward in its support. We had been cautioned not to lay our unhallowed hands on the antient institution of the Slave-trade; nor to subvert a fabric, raised by the wisdom of our ancestors, and consecrated by a lapse of ages. But on what principles did we usually respect the institutions of antiquity? We respected them when we saw some shadow of departed worth and usefulness; or some memorial of what had been creditable to mankind. But was this the case with the Slave-trade? Had it begun in principles of justice or national honour, which the changes of the world alone had impaired? had it to plead former services and glories in behalf of its present disgrace? In looking at it we saw nothing but crimes and sufferings from the beginning--nothing but what wounded and convulsed our feelings--nothing but what excited indignation and horror. It had not even to plead what could often be said in favour of the most unjustifiable wars. Though conquest had sometimes originated in ambition, and in the worst of motives, yet the conquerors and the conquered were sometimes blended afterwards into one people; so that a system of common interest arose out of former differences. But where was the analogy of the cases? Was it only at the outset that we could trace violence and injustice on the part of the Slave-trade? Were the oppressors and the oppressed so reconciled, that enmities ultimately ceased?--No. Was it reasonable then to urge a prescriptive right, not to the fruits of an antient and forgotten evil, but to a series of new violences; to a chain of fresh enormities; to cruelties continually repeated; and of which every instance inflicted a fresh calamity, and constituted a separate and substantial crime? The debate being over, the House divided; when it appeared that there were for Mr. Wilberforce's motion seventy-four, but against it eighty-two. The motion for the general abolition of the Slave-trade having been thus lost again in the Commons, a new motion was made there soon after, by Mr. Henry Thornton, on the same subject. The prosecution of this traffic on certain parts of the coast of Africa had become so injurious to the new settlement at Sierra Leone, that not only its commercial prospects were impeded, but its safety endangered. Mr. Thornton therefore brought in a bill to confine the Slave-trade within certain limits. But even this bill, though it had for its object only to free a portion of the coast from the ravages of this traffic, was opposed by Mr. Gascoyne, Dent, and others. Petitions also were presented against it. At length, after two divisions, on the first of which there were thirty-two votes to twenty-seven, and on the second thirty-eight to twenty-two, it passed through all its stages. When it was introduced into the Lords the petitions were renewed against it. Delay also was interposed to its progress by the examination of witnesses. It was not till the fifth of July that the matter was brought to issue. The opponents of the bill at that time were, the Duke of Clarence, Lord Westmoreland, Lord Thurlow, and the Lords Douglas and Hay, the two latter being Earls of Morton and Kinnoul in Scotland. The supporters of it were Lord Grenville, who introduced it; Lord Loughborough; Holland; and Dr. Horsley, bishop of Rochester. The latter was peculiarly eloquent. He began his speech by arraigning the injustice and impolicy of the trade: injustice, he said, which no considerations of policy could extenuate; impolicy, equal in degree to its injustice. He well knew that the advocates for the Slave-trade had endeavoured to represent the project for abolition as a branch of jacobinism; but they, who supported it, proceeded upon no visionary motives of equality or of the imprescriptible rights of man. They strenuously upheld the gradations of civil society: but they did indeed affirm that these gradations were, both ways, both as they ascended and as they descended, limited. There was an existence of power, to which no good king would aspire; and there was an extreme condition of subjection, to which man could not be degraded without injustice; and this they would maintain was the condition of the African, who was torn away into slavery. He then explained the limits of that portion of Africa, which the bill intended to set apart as sacred to peace and liberty. He showed that this was but one-third of the coast; and therefore that two-thirds were yet left for the diabolical speculations of the slave-merchants. He expressed his surprise that such witnesses as those against the bill should have been introduced at all. He affirmed that their oaths were falsified by their own log-books; and that from their own accounts the very healthiest of their vessels were little better than pestilential gaols. Mr. Robert Hume, one of these witnesses, had made a certain voyage. He had made it in thirty-three days. He had shipped two hundred and sixty-five slaves, and he had lost twenty-three of them. If he had gone on losing his slaves, all of whom were under twenty-five years of age, at this rate, it was obvious, that he would have lost two hundred and fifty-three of them, if his passage had lasted for a year. Now in London only seventeen would have died, of that age, out of one thousand within the latter period. After having exposed the other voyages of Mr. Hume in a similar manner, he entered into a commendation of the views of the Sierra Leone company; and then defended the character of the Africans in their own country, as exhibited in the Travels of Mr. Mungo Park. He made a judicious discrimination with respect to slavery, as it existed among them. He showed that this slavery was analogous to that of the heroic and patriarchal ages; and contrasted it with the West Indian in an able manner. He adverted, lastly, to what had fallen from the learned counsel, who had supported the petitions of the slave-merchants. One of them had put this question to their lordships, "if the Slave-trade were as wicked as it had been represented, why was there no prohibition of it in the holy scriptures?" He then entered into a full defence of the scriptures on this ground, which he concluded by declaring that, as St. Paul had coupled men-stealers with murderers, he had condemned the Slave-trade in one of its most productive modes, and generally in all its modes:--and here it was worthy of remark, that the word used by the apostle on this occasion, and which had been translated men-stealers, should have been rendered slave-traders. This was obvious from the Scholiast of Aristophanes, whom he quoted. It was clear therefore that the Slave-trade, if murder was forbidden, had been literally forbidden also. The learned counsel too had admonished their lordships, to beware how they adopted the visionary projects of fanatics. He did not know in what direction this shaft was shot; and he cared not. It did not concern him. With the highest reverence for the religion of the land, with the firmest conviction of its truth, and with the deepest sense of the importance of its doctrines, he was proudly conscious, that the general shape and fashion of his life bore nothing of the stamp of fanaticism. But he begged leave, in his turn, to address a word of serious exhortation to their lordships. He exhorted them to beware, how they were persuaded to bury, under the opprobrious name of fanaticism, the regard which they owed to the great duties of mercy and justice, for the neglect of which (if they should neglect them) they would be answerable at that tribunal, where no prevarication of witnesses could misinform the judge; and where no subtlety of an advocate, miscalling the names of things, putting evil for good and good for evil, could mislead his judgement. At length the debate ended: when the bill was lost by a majority of sixty-eight to sixty-one, including personal votes and proxies. I cannot conclude this chapter without offering a few remarks. And, first, I may observe, as the substance of the debates has not been given for the period which it contains, that Mr. Wilberforce, upon whom too much praise cannot be bestowed for his perseverance from year to year, amidst the disheartening circumstances which attended his efforts, brought every new argument to bear, which either the discovery of new light or the events of the times produced. I may observe also, in justice to the memories of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, that there was no debate within this period, in which they did not take a part; and in which they did not irradiate others from the profusion of their own light: and, thirdly, that in consequence of the efforts of the three, conjoined with those of others, the great cause of the abolition was secretly gaining ground. Many members who were not connected with the trade, but who had yet hitherto supported it, were on the point of conversion. Though the question had oscillated backwards and forwards, so that an ordinary spectator could have discovered no gleam of hope at these times, nothing is more certain, than that the powerful eloquence then displayed had smoothed the resistance to it; had shortened its vibrations; and had prepared it for a state of rest. With respect to the West Indians themselves, some of them began to see through the mists of prejudice, which had covered them. In the year 1794, when the bill for the abolition of the foreign Slave-trade was introduced, Mr. Vaughan and Mr. Barham supported it. They called upon the planters in the House to give way to humanity, where their own interests could not be affected by their submission. This indeed may be said to have been no mighty thing; but it was a frank confession of the injustice of the Slave-trade, and the beginning of the change which followed, both with respect to themselves and others. With respect to the old friends of the cause, it is with regret I mention, that it lost the support of Mr. Windham within this period; and this regret is increased by the consideration, that he went off on the avowed plea of expediency against moral rectitude; a doctrine, which, at least upon this subject, he had reprobated for ten years. It was, however, some consolation, as far as talents were concerned, (for there can be none for the loss of virtuous feeling,) that Mr. Canning, a new member, should have so ably supplied his place. Of the gradual abolitionists, whom we have always considered as the most dangerous enemies of the cause, Mr. Jenkinson (now Lord Hawkesbury), Mr. Addington (now Lord Sidmouth), and Mr. Dundas (now Lord Melville), continued their opposition during all this time. Of the first two I shall say nothing at present; but I cannot pass over the conduct of the latter. He was the first person, as we have seen, to propose the gradual abolition of the Slave-trade; and he fixed the time for its cessation on the first of January 1800. His sincerity on this occasion was doubted by Mr. Fox at the very outset; for he immediately rose and said, that "something so mischievous had come out, something so like a foundation had been laid for preserving, not only for years to come, but for any thing he knew for ever, this detestable traffic, that he felt it his duty immediately to deprecate all such delusions upon the country." Mr. Pitt, who spoke soon afterwards, in reply to an argument advanced by Mr. Dundas, maintained, that "at whatever period the House should say that the Slave-trade should actually cease, this defence would equally be set up; for it would be just as good an argument in seventy years hence, as it was against the abolition then." And these remarks Mr. Dundas verified in a singular manner within this period: for in the year 1796, when his own bill, as amended in the Commons, was to take place, he was one of the most strenuous opposers of it; and in the year 1799, when in point of consistency it devolved upon him to propose it to the House, in order that the trade might cease on the first of January 1800, (which was the time of his own original choice, or a time unfettered by parliamentary amendment,) he was the chief instrument of throwing out Mr. Wilberforce's bill, which promised even a longer period to its continuance: so that it is obvious, that there was no time, within his own limits, when the abolition would have suited him, notwithstanding his profession, "that he had always been a warm advocate for the measure." CHAPTER VIII. _Continuation from July 1799 to July 1805--Various motions within this period._ The question had now been brought forward in almost every possible way, and yet had been eventually lost. The total and immediate abolition had been attempted; and then the gradual. The gradual again had been tried for the year 1793, then for 1795, and then for 1796, at which period it was decreed, but never allowed to be executed. An abolition of a part of the trade, as it related to the supply of foreigners with slaves, was the next measure proposed; and when this failed, the abolition of another part of it, as it related to the making of a certain portion of the coast of Africa sacred to liberty, was attempted; but this failed also. Mr. Wilberforce therefore thought it prudent, not to press the abolition as a mere annual measure, but to allow members time to digest the eloquence, which had been bestowed upon it for the last five years, and to wait till some new circumstances should favour its introduction. Accordingly he allowed the years 1800, 1801, 1802, and 1803 to pass over without any further parliamentary notice than the moving for certain papers; during which he took an opportunity of assuring the House, that he had not grown cool in the cause, but that he would agitate it in a future session. In the year 1804, which was fixed upon for renewed exertion, the committee for the abolition of the Slave-trade elected James Stephen, Zachary Macaulay, Henry Brougham, esquires, and William Phillips, into their own body. Four other members also, Robert Grant and John Thornton, esquires, and William Manser and William Allen, were afterwards added to the list. Among the reasons for fixing upon this year one may be assigned, namely, that the Irish members, in consequence of the Union which had taken place between the two countries, had then all taken their seats in the House of Commons; and that most of them were friendly to the cause. This being the situation of things, Mr. Wilberforce, on the thirtieth of March, asked leave to renew his bill for the abolition of the Slave-trade within a limited time. Mr. Fuller opposed the motion. A debate ensued. Colonel Tarleton, Mr. Devaynes, Mr. Addington, and Mr. Manning spoke against it. The latter, however, notwithstanding his connection with the West Indies, said he would support it, if an indemnification were offered to the planters, in case any actual loss should accompany the measure. Sir William Geary questioned the propriety of immediate abolition. Sir Robert Buxton, Mr. Pitt, Fox, and Durham, spoke in favour of the motion. Mr. William Smith rose, when the latter had seated himself, and complimented him on this change of sentiment, so honourable to him, inasmuch as he had espoused the cause of humanity against his supposed interest as a planter. Mr. Leigh said, that he would not tolerate such a traffic for a moment. All the feelings of nature revolted at it. Lord de Blaquiere observed, "it was the first time the question had been proposed to Irishmen as legislators. He believed it would be supported by most of them. As to the people of Ireland, he could pledge himself, that they were hostile to this barbarous traffic." An amendment having been proposed by Mr. Manning, a division took place upon it, when leave was given to bring in the bill, by a majority of one hundred and twenty-four to forty-nine. On the seventh of June, when the second reading of the bill was moved, it was opposed by Sir W. Yonge, Dr. Laurence, Mr. C. Brook, Mr. Dent, and others. Among these Lord Castlereagh professed himself a friend to the abolition of the trade, but he differed as to the mode. Sir J. Wrottesley approved of the principle of the bill, but would oppose it in some of its details. Mr. Windham allowed the justice, but differed as to the expediency, of the measure. Mr. Deverell professed himself to have been a friend to it; but he had then changed his mind. Sir Laurence Parsons wished to see a plan for the gradual extinction of the trade. Lord Temple affirmed, that the bill would seal the death-warrant of every White inhabitant of the islands. The second reading was supported by Sir Ralph Milbank, Mr. Pitt, Fox, William Smith, Whitbread, Francis, Barham, and by Mr. Grenfell, and Sir John Newport. Mr. Grenfell observed, that he could not give a silent vote, where the character of the country was concerned. When the question of the abolition first came before the public, he was a warm friend to it; and from that day to this he had cherished the same feelings. He assured Mr. Wilberforce of his constant support. Sir John Newport stated that the Irish nation took a virtuous interest in this noble cause. He ridiculed the idea, that the trade and manufactures of the country would suffer by the measure in contemplation; but, even if they should suffer, he would oppose it. "Fiat justitia, ruat coelum." Upon a division, there appeared for the second reading one hundred, and against it forty-two. On the twelfth of June, when a motion was made to go into a committee upon the bill, it was opposed by Mr. Fuller, C. Brook, C. Ellis, Dent, Deverell, and Manning: and it was supported by Sir Robert Buxton, Mr. Barham, and the honourable J.S. Cocks. The latter condemned the imprudence of the planters. Instead of profiting by the discussions, which had taken place, and making wise provisions against the great event of the abolition, which would sooner or later take place, they had only thought of new stratagems to defeat it. He declared his abhorrence of the trade, which he considered to be a national disgrace. The House divided: when there were seventy-nine for the motion, and against it twenty. On the twenty-seventh of June the bill was opposed in its last stage by Sir W. Young, Mr. Dickenson, G. Rose, Addington, and Dent: and supported by Mr. Pitt, W. Smith, Francis, and Barham; when it was carried by a majority of sixty-nine to thirty-six. It was then taken up to the Lords; but on a motion of Lord Hawkesbury, then a member of that House, the discussion of it was postponed to the next year. The session being ended, the committee for the abolition of the Slave-trade increased its number, by the election of the right honourable Lord Teignmouth, Dr. Dickson, and Wilson Birkbeck, as members. In the year 1805, Mr. Wilberforce renewed his motion of the former year. Colonel Tarleton, Sir William Yonge, Mr. Fuller, and Mr. Gascoyne opposed it. Leave, however, was given him to introduce his bill. On the second reading of it a serious opposition took place; and an amendment was moved for postponing it till that day six months. The amendment was opposed by Mr. Fox and Mr. Huddlestone. The latter could not help lifting his voice against this monstrous traffic in the sinews and blood of man, the toleration of which had so long been the disgrace of the British legislature. He did not charge the enormous guilt resulting from it upon the nation at large; for the nation had washed its hands of it by the numerous petitions it had sent against it; and it had since been a matter of astonishment to all Christendom, how the constitutional guardians of British freedom should have sanctioned elsewhere the greatest system of cruelty and oppression in the world. He said that a curse attended this trade even in the mode of defending it. By a certain fatality, none but the vilest arguments were brought forward, which corrupted the very persons, who used them. Every one of these were built on the narrow ground of interest; of pecuniary profit; of sordid gain; in opposition to every higher consideration; to every motive that had reference to humanity, justice, and religion; or to that great principle, which comprehended them all. Place only before the most determined advocate of this odious traffic the exact image of himself in the garb and harness of a slave, dragged and whipped about like a beast: place this image also before him, and paint it as that of one without a ray of hope to cheer him; and you would extort from him the reluctant confession, that he would not endure for an hour the misery, to which he condemned his fellow-man for life. How dared he then to use this selfish plea of interest against the voice of the generous sympathies of his nature? But even upon this narrow ground the advocates for the traffic had been defeated. If the unhallowed argument of expediency was worth any thing when opposed to moral rectitude, or if it were to supersede the precepts of Christianity, where was a man to stop, or what line was he to draw? For any thing he knew, it might be physically true, that human blood was the best manure for the land; but who ought to shed it on that account? True expediency, however, was, where it ever would be found, on the side of that system, which was most merciful and just. He asked how it happened, that sugar could be imported cheaper from the East Indies, than from the West, notwithstanding the vast difference of the length of the voyages, but on account of the impolicy of slavery, or that it was made in the former case by the industry of free men, and in the latter by the languid drudgery of slaves. As he had had occasion to advert to the Eastern part of the world, he would make an observation upon an argument, which had been collected from that quarter. The condition of the Negros in the West Indies had been lately compared with that of the Hindoos. But he would observe that the Hindoo, miserable as his hovel was, had sources of pride and happiness, to which not only the West Indian slave, but even his master, was a stranger. He was to be sure a peasant; and his industry was subservient to the gratifications of an European lord. But he was, in his own belief, vastly superior to him. He viewed him as one of the lowest cast. He would not on any consideration eat from the same plate. He would not suffer his son to marry the daughter of his master, even if she could bring him all the West Indies as her portion. He would observe too, that the Hindoo-peasant drank his water from his native well; that, if his meal were scanty, he received it from the hand of her, who was most dear to him; that, when he laboured, he laboured for her and his offspring. His daily task being finished, he reposed with his family. No retrospect of the happiness of former days, compared with existing misery, disturbed his slumber; nor horrid dreams occasioned him to wake in agony at the dawn of day. No barbarous sounds of cracking whips reminded him, that with the form and image of a man his destiny was that of the beast of the field. Let the advocates for the bloody traffic state what they had to set off on their side of the question against the comforts and independence of the man, with whom they compared the slave. The amendment was supported by Sir William Yonge, Sir William Pulteney, Colonel Tarleton, Mr. Gascoyne, C. Brook, and Hiley Addington. On dividing the House upon it, there appeared for it seventy-seven, but against it only seventy. This loss of the question, after it had been carried in the last year by so great a majority, being quite unexpected, was a matter of severe disappointment; and might have discouraged the friends of the cause in this infancy of their renewed efforts, if they had not discovered the reason of its failure. After due consideration it appeared, that no fewer than nine members, who had never been absent once in sixteen years when it was agitated, gave way to engagements on the day of the motion, from a belief that it was safe. It appeared also, that out of the great number of Irish members, who supported it in the former year, only nine were in the House, when it was lost. It appeared also that, previously to this event, a canvass, more importunate than had been heard of on any former occasion, had been made among the latter by those interested in the continuance of the trade. Many of these, unacquainted with the detail of the subject, like the English members, admitted the dismal representations, which were then made to them. The desire of doing good on the one hand, and the fear of doing injury on the other, perplexed them; and in this dubious state they absented themselves at the time mentioned. The causes of the failure having been found accidental, and capable of a remedy, it was resolved, that an attempt should be made immediately in the House in a new form. Accordingly Lord Henry Petty signified his intention of bringing in a bill for the abolition of the foreign part of the Slave-trade; but the impeachment of Lord Melville, and other weighty matters coming on, the notice was not acted upon in that session. CHAPTER IX. _Continuation from July 1805 to July 1806--Author returns to his duty in the committee--travels again round the Kingdom--Death of Mr. Pitt--his character, an it related to the question--Motion for the abolition of the foreign Slave-trade--resolution to take measures for the total abolition of it--Address to the King to negotiate with foreign powers for their concurrence in it--Motion to prevent any new vessel going into the trade--these carried through both houses of parliament._ It was now almost certain, to the inexpressible joy of the committee, that the cause, with proper vigilance, could be carried in the next session in the House of Commons. It became them therefore to prepare to support it. In adverting to measures for this purpose, it occurred to them, that the House of Lords, if the question should be then carried to them from the Commons, might insist upon hearing evidence on the general subject. But, alas, even the body of witnesses, which had been last collected, was broken by death or dispersion! It was therefore to be formed again. In this situation it devolved upon me, as I had now returned to the committee after an absence of nine years, to take another journey for this purpose. This journey I performed with extraordinary success. In the course of it I had also much satisfaction on another account. I found the old friends of the cause still faithful to it. It was remarkable, however, that the youth of the rising generation knew but little about the question. For the last eight or nine years the committee had not circulated any books; and the debates in the Commons during that time had not furnished them with the means of an adequate knowledge concerning it. When, however, I conversed with these, as I travelled along, I discovered a profound attention to what I said; an earnest desire to know more of the subject; and a generous warmth in favour of the injured Africans, which I foresaw could soon be turned into enthusiasm. Hence I perceived that the cause furnished us with endless sources of rallying; and that the ardour, which we had seen with so much admiration in former years, could be easily renewed. I had scarcely finished my journey, when Mr. Pitt died. This event took place in January 1806. I shall stop therefore to make a few observations upon his character, as it related to this cause. This I feel myself bound in justice to do, because his sincerity towards it has been generally questioned. The way, in which Mr. Pitt became acquainted with this question, has already been explained. A few doubts having been removed, when it was first started, he professed himself a friend to the abolition. The first proof, which he gave of his friendship to it is known but to few; but it is, nevertheless, true, that so early as in 1788, he occasioned a communication to be made to the French government, in which he recommended an union of the two countries for the promotion of the great measure. This proposition seemed to be then new and strange to the court of France; and the answer was not favourable. From this time his efforts were reduced within the boundaries of his own power. As far, however, as he had scope, he exerted them. If we look at him in his parliamentary capacity, it must be acknowledged by all, that he took an active, strenuous, and consistent part, and this year after year, by which he realized his professions. In my own private communications with him, which were frequent, he never failed to give proofs of a similar disposition. I had always free access to him. I had no previous note or letter to write for admission. Whatever papers I wanted, he ordered. He exhibited also in his conversation with me on these occasions marks of a more than ordinary interest in the welfare of the cause. Among the subjects, which were then started, there was one, which was always near his heart. This was the civilization of Africa. He looked upon this great work as a debt due to that continent for the many injuries we had inflicted upon it: and had the abolition succeeded sooner, as in the infancy of his exertions he had hoped, I know he had a plan, suited no doubt to the capaciousness of his own mind, for such establishments in Africa, as he conceived would promote in due time this important end. I believe it will be said, notwithstanding what I have advanced, that if Mr. Pitt had exerted himself as the minister of the country in behalf of the abolition, he could have carried it. This brings the matter to an issue; for unquestionably the charge of insincerity, as it related to this great question, arose from the mistaken notion, that, as his measures in parliament were supported by great majorities, he could do as he pleased there. But, they who hold this opinion, must be informed, that there were great difficulties, against which he had to struggle on this subject. The Lord Chancellor Thurlow ran counter to his wishes almost at the very outset. Lord Liverpool and Mr. Dundas did the same. Thus, to go no further, three of the most powerful members of the cabinet were in direct opposition to him. The abolition then, amidst this difference of opinion, could never become a cabinet measure; but if so, then all his parliamentary efforts in this case wanted their usual authority, and he could only exert his influence as a private man[A]. [Footnote A: This he did with great effect on one or two occasions. On the motion of Mr. Cawthorne in 1791, the cause hung as it were by a thread; and would have failed that day, to my knowledge, but for his seasonable exertions.] But a difficulty, still more insuperable, presented itself, in an occurrence which took place in the year 1791, but which is much too delicate to be mentioned. The explanation of it, however, would convince the reader, that all the efforts of Mr. Pitt from that day were rendered useless, I mean as to bringing the question, as a minister of state, to a favourable issue. But though Mr. Pitt did not carry this great question, he was yet one of the greatest supporters of it. He fostered it in its infancy. If, in his public situation, he had then set his face against it, where would have been our hope? He upheld it also in its childhood; and though in this state of its existence it did not gain from his protection all the strength which it was expected it would have acquired, he yet kept it from falling, till his successors, in whose administration a greater number of favourable circumstances concurred to give it vigour, brought it to triumphant maturity. Lord Grenville and Mr. Fox, having been called to the head of the executive government on the death of Mr. Pitt, the cause was ushered into parliament under new auspices. In a former year His Majesty had issued a proclamation, by which British merchants were forbidden (with certain defined exceptions) to import slaves into the colonies, which had been conquered by the British arms in the course of the war. This circumstance afforded an opportunity of trying the question in the House of Commons with the greatest hope of success. Accordingly Sir A. Pigott, the attorney-general, as an officer of the crown; brought in a bill on the thirty-first of March 1806, the first object of which was, to give effect to the proclamation now mentioned. The second was, to prohibit British subjects from being engaged in importing slaves into the colonies of any foreign power, whether hostile or neutral. And the third was, to prohibit British subjects and British capital from being employed in carrying on a Slave-trade in foreign ships; and also to prevent the outfit of foreign ships from British ports. Sir A. Pigott, on the introduction of this bill, made an appropriate speech. The bill was supported by Mr. Fox, Sir William Yonge, Mr. Brook, and Mr. Bagwell; but opposed by Generals Tarleton and Gascoyne, Mr. Rose, Sir Robert Peele, and Sir Charles Price. On the third reading a division being called for, there appeared for it thirty-five, and against it only thirteen. On the seventh of May it was introduced into the Lords. The supporters of it there were, the Duke of Gloucester, Lord Grenville, the Bishops of London and St. Asaph, the Earl of Buckinghamshire, and the Lords Holland, Lauderdale, Auckland, Sidmouth, and Ellenborough. The opposers were, the Dukes of Clarence and Sussex, the Marquis of Sligo, the Earl of Westmoreland, and the Lords Eldon and Sheffield. At length a division took place, when there appeared to be in favour of it forty-three, and against it eighteen. During the discussions, to which this bill gave birth, Lord Grenville and Mr. Fox declared in substance, in their respective Houses of Parliament, that they felt the question of the Slave-trade to be one, which involved the dearest interests of humanity, and the most urgent claims of policy, justice, and religion; and that, should they succeed in effecting its abolition, they would regard that success as entailing more true glory on their administration, and more honour and advantage on their country, than any other measure, in which they could be engaged. The bill having passed (the first, which dismembered this cruel trade,) it was thought proper to follow it up in a prudent manner; and, as there was not then time in the advanced period of the session to bring in another for the total extinction of it, to move a resolution, by which both Houses should record those principles, on which the propriety of the latter measure was founded. It was judged also expedient that Mr. Fox, as the prime minister in the House of Commons, should introduce it there. On the tenth of June Mr. Fox rose. He began by saying that the motion, with which he should conclude, would tend in its consequences to effect the total abolition of the Slave-trade; and he confessed that, since he had sat in that House (a period of between thirty and forty years), if he had done nothing else, but had only been instrumental in carrying through this measure, he should think his life well spent; and should retire quite satisfied, that he had not lived in vain. In adverting to the principle of the trade, he noticed some strong expressions of Mr. Burke concerning it. "To deal in human flesh and blood," said that great man, "or to deal, not in the labour of men, but in men themselves, was to devour the root, instead of enjoying the fruit of human diligence." Mr. Fox then took a view of the opinions of different members of the House on this great question; and showed that, though many had opposed the abolition, all but two or three, among whom were the members for Liverpool, had confessed, that the trade ought to be done away. He then went over the different resolutions of the House on the subject, and concluded from thence, that they were bound to support his motion. He combated the argument, that the abolition would ruin the West-Indian Islands. In doing this he paid a handsome compliment to the memory of Mr. Pitt, whose speech upon this particular point was, he said, the most powerful and convincing of any he had ever heard. Indeed they, who had not heard it, could have no notion of it. It was a speech, of which he would say with the Roman author, reciting the words of the Athenian orator, "Quid esset, si ipsum audivissetis!" It was a speech no less remarkable for splendid eloquence, than for solid sense and convincing reason; supported by calculations founded on facts, and conclusions drawn from premises, as correctly as if they had been mathematical propositions; all tending to prove that, instead of the West Indian plantations suffering an injury, they would derive a material benefit by the abolition of the Slave-trade. He then called upon the friends of this great man to show their respect for his memory by their votes; and he concluded with moving, "that this House, considering the African Slave-trade to be contrary to the principles of justice, humanity, and policy, will, with all practicable expedition, take effectual measures for the abolition of the said trade, in such a manner, and at such a period, as may be deemed advisable." Sir Ralph Milbank rose, and seconded the motion. General Tarleton rose next. He deprecated the abolition, on account of the effect which it would have on the trade and revenue of the country. Mr. Francis said the merchants of Liverpool were at liberty to ask for compensation; but he, for one, would never grant it for the loss of a trade, which had been declared to be contrary to humanity and justice. As an uniform friend to this great cause, he wished Mr. Fox had not introduced a resolution, but a real bill for the abolition of the Slave-trade. He believed that both Houses were then disposed to do it away. He wished the golden opportunity might not be lost. Lord Castlereagh thought it a proposition, on which no one could entertain a doubt, that the Slave-trade was a great evil in itself; and that it was the duty and policy of Parliament to extirpate it; but he did not think the means offered were adequate to the end proposed. The abolition, as a political question, was a difficult one. The year 1796 had been once fixed upon by the House, as the period when the trade was to cease; but, when the time arrived, the resolution was not executed. This was a proof, either that the House did not wish for the event, or that they judged it impracticable. It would be impossible, he said, to get other nations to concur in the measure; and, even if they were to concur, it could not be effected. We might restrain the subjects of the parent-state from following the trade; but we could not those in our colonies. A hundred frauds would be committed by those, which we could not detect. He did not mean by this, that the evil was to go on for ever. Had a wise plan been proposed at first, it might have been half-cured by this time. The present resolution would do no good. It was vague, indefinite, and unintelligible. Such resolutions were only the Slave-merchants' harvests. They would go for more slaves than usual in the interim. He should have advised a system of duties on fresh importations of slaves, progressively increasing to a certain extent; and that the amount of these duties should be given to the planters, as a bounty to encourage the Negro-population upon their estates. Nothing could be done, unless we went hand in hand with the latter. But he should deliver himself more fully on this subject, when any thing specific should be brought forward in the shape of a bill. Sir S. Romilly, the solicitor-general, differed from Lord Castlereagh; for he thought the resolution of Mr. Fox was very simple and intelligible. If there was a proposition vague and indefinite, it was that, advanced by the noble lord, of a system of duties on fresh importations, rising progressively, and this under the patronage and cooperation of the planters. Who could measure the space between the present time and the abolition of the trade, if that measure were to depend upon the approbation of the colonies? The cruelty and injustice of the Slave-trade had been established by evidence beyond a doubt. It had been shown to be carried on by rapine, robbery, and murder; by fomenting and encouraging wars; by false accusations; and imaginary crimes. The unhappy victims were torn away not only in the time of war, but of profound peace. They were then carried across the Atlantic, in a manner too horrible to describe; and afterwards subjected to eternal slavery. In support of the continuance of such a traffic, he knew of nothing but assertions already disproved, and arguments already refuted. Since the year 1796, when it was to cease by a resolution of Parliament, no less than three hundred and sixty thousand Africans had been torn away from their native land. What an accumulation was this to our former guilt! General Gascoyne made two extraordinary assertions: First, that the trade was defensible on Scriptural ground.--"Both thy bondmen and thy bondmaids, which thou shalt have, shall be of the heathen, that are round about thee; of them shall you have bondmen and bondmaids. And thou shalt take them as an heritance for thy children after thee to inherit them for a possession; they shall be thy bondmen for ever." Secondly, that the trade had been so advantageous to this country, that it would have been advisable even to institute a new one, if the old had not existed. Mr. Wilberforce replied to General Gascoyne. He then took a view of the speech of Lord Castlereagh, which he answered point by point. In the course of his observations he showed, that the system of duties progressively increasing, as proposed by the noble lord, would be one of the most effectual modes of perpetuating the Slave-trade. He exposed also the false foundation of the hope of any reliance on the cooperation of the colonists. The House, he said, had on the motion of Mr. Ellis in the year 1797, prayed His Majesty to consult with the colonial legislatures to take such measures, as might conduce to the gradual abolition of the African Slave-trade. This address was transmitted to them by Lord Melville. It was received in some of the islands with a declaration, "that they possibly might, in some instances, endeavour to improve the condition of their slaves; but they should do this, not with any view to the abolition of the Slave-trade; for they considered that trade as their birth-right, which could not be taken from them; and that we should deceive ourselves by supposing, that they would agree to such a measure." He desired to add to this the declaration of General Prevost in his public letter from Dominica. Did he not say, when asked what steps had been taken there in consequence of the resolution of the House in 1797, "that the act of the legislature, entitled an act for the encouragement, protection, and better government of slaves, appeared to him to have been considered, from the day it was passed until this hour, as a political measure to avert the interference of the mother-country in the management of the slaves." Sir William Yonge censured the harsh language of Sir Samuel Romilly, who had applied the terms rapine, robbery, and murder to those, who were connected with the Slave-trade. He considered the resolution of Mr. Fox as a prelude to a bill for the abolition of that traffic, and this bill as a prelude to emancipation, which would not only be dangerous in itself, but would change the state of property in the islands. Lord Henry Petty, after having commented on the speeches of Sir S. Romilly and Lord Castlereagh, proceeded to state his own opinion on the trade; which was, that it was contrary to justice, humanity, and sound policy, all of which he considered to be inseparable. On its commencement in Africa the wickedness began. It produced there fraud and violence, robbery and murder. It gave birth to false accusations, and a mockery of justice. It was the parent of every crime, which could at once degrade and afflict the human race. After spreading vice and misery all over this continent, it doomed its unhappy victims to hardships and cruelties which were worse than death. The first of these was conspicuous in their transportation. It was found there, that cruelty begat cruelty; that the system, wicked in its beginning, was equally so in its progress; and that it perpetuated its miseries wherever it was carried on. Nor was it baneful only to the objects, but to the promoters of it. The loss of British seamen in this traffic was enormous. One fifth of all, who were employed in it, perished; that is, they became the victims of a system, which was founded on fraud, robbery, and murder; and which procured to the British nation nothing but the execration of mankind. Nor had we yet done with the evils, which attended it; for it brought in its train the worst of all moral effects, not only as it respected the poor slaves, when transported to the colonies, but as it respected those, who had concerns with them there. The arbitrary power, which it conferred, afforded men of bad dispositions full scope for the exercise of their passions; and it rendered men, constitutionally of good dispositions, callous to the misery of others. Thus it depraved the nature of all, who were connected with it. These considerations had made him a friend to the abolition from the time he was capable of reasoning upon it. They were considerations also, which determined the House in the year 1782 to adopt a measure of the same kind as the present. Had any thing happened to change the opinion of members since? On the contrary, they had now the clearest evidence, that all the arguments then used against the abolition were fallacious; being founded not upon truth, but on assertions devoid of all truth, and derived from ignorance or prejudice. Having made these remarks, he proved by a number of facts the folly of the argument, that the Africans laboured under such a total degradation of mental and moral faculties, that they were made for slavery. He then entered into the great subject of population. He showed that in all countries, where there were no unnatural hardships, mankind would support themselves. He applied this reasoning to the Negro-population in the West Indies; which he maintained could not only be kept up, but increased, without any further importations from Africa. He then noticed the observations of Sir W. Yonge on the words of Sir S. Romilly; and desired him to reserve his indignation for those, who were guilty of acts of rapine, robbery, and murder, instead of venting it on those, who only did their duty in describing them. Never were accounts more shocking than those lately sent to government from the West Indies. Lord Seaforth, and the Attorney-general, could not refrain, in explaining them, from the use of the words murder and torture. And did it become members of that House (in order to accommodate the nerves of the friends of the Slave-trade) to soften down their expressions, when they were speaking on that subject; and to desist from calling that murder and torture, for which a governor, and the attorney-general, of one of the islands could find no better name? After making observations relative to the cooperation of foreign powers in this great work, he hoped that the House would not suffer itself to be drawn, either by opposition or by ridicule, to the right or to the left; but that it would, advance straight forward to the accomplishment of the most magnanimous act of justice, that was ever achieved by any legislature in the world. Mr. Rose declared, that on the very first promulgation of this question, he had proposed to the friends of it the very plan of his noble friend Lord Castlereagh; namely, a system of progressive duties, and of bounties for the promotion of the Negro-population. This he said to show that he was friendly to the principle of the measure. He would now observe, that he did not wholly like the present resolution. It was too indefinite. He wished also, that something had been said on the subject of compensation. He was fearful also, lest the abolition should lead to the dangerous change of emancipation. The Negros, he said, could not be in a better state, or more faithful to their masters, than they were. In three attacks made by the enemy on Dominica, where he had a large property, arms had been put into their hands; and every one of them had exerted himself faithfully. With respect to the cruel acts in Barbadoes, an account of which had been sent to government by Lord Seaforth and the Attorney-general of Barbadoes, he had read them; and never had he read any thing on this subject with more horror. He would agree to the strongest measures for the prevention of such acts in future. He would even give up the colony, which should refuse to make the wilful murder of a slave felony. But as to the other, or common, evils complained of, he thought the remedy should be gradual; and such also as the planters would concur in. He would nevertheless not oppose the present resolution. Mr. Barham considered compensation but reasonable, where losses were to accrue from the measure, when it should be put in execution; but he believed that the amount of it would be much less than was apprehended. He considered emancipation, though so many fears had been expressed about it, as forming no objection to the abolition, though he had estates in the West Indies himself. Such a measure, if it could be accomplished successfully, would be an honour to the country, and a blessing to the planters; but preparation must be made for it by rendering the slaves fit for freedom, and by creating in them an inclination to free labour. Such a change could only be the work of time. Sir John Newport said that the expressions of Sir S. Romilly, which had given such offence, had been used by others; and would be used with propriety, while the trade lasted. Some slave-dealers of Liverpool had lately attempted to prejudice certain merchants of Ireland in their favour. But none of their representations answered; and it was remarkable, that the reply made to them was in these words. "We will have no share in a traffic, consisting in rapine, blood, and murder." He then took a survey of a system of duties progressively increasing, and showed, that it would be utterly inefficient; and that there was no real remedy for the different evils complained of, but in the immediate prohibition of the trade. Mr. Canning renewed his professions of friendship to the cause. He did not like the present resolution; yet he would vote for it. He should have been better pleased with a bill, which would strike at once at the root of this detestable commerce. Mr. Manning wished the question to be deferred to the next session. He hoped, compensation would then be brought forward as connected with it. Nothing, however, effectual could be done without the concurrence of the planters. Mr. William Smith noticed, in a striking manner, the different inconsistencies in the arguments of those, who contended for the continuance of the trade. Mr. Windham deprecated not only the Slave-trade, but slavery also. They were essentially connected with each other. They were both evils, and ought both of them to be done away. Indeed, if emancipation would follow the abolition, he should like the latter measure the better. Rapine, robbery, and murder were the true characteristics of this traffic. The same epithets had not indeed been applied to slavery, because this was a condition, in which some part of the human race had been at every period of the history of the world. It was, however, a state, which ought not to be allowed to exist. But, notwithstanding all these confessions, he should weigh well the consequences of the abolition before he gave it his support. It would be on a balance between the evils themselves and the consequences of removing them, that he should decide for himself on this question. Mr. Fox took a view of all the arguments, which had been advanced by the opponents of the abolition; and having given an appropriate answer to each, the House divided, when there appeared for the resolution one hundred and fourteen, and against it but fifteen. Immediately after this division Mr. Wilberforce moved an address to His Majesty, "praying that he would be graciously pleased, to direct a negotiation to be entered into, by which foreign powers should be invited to cooperate with His Majesty in measures to be adopted for the abolition of the African Slave-trade." This address was carried without a division. It was also moved and carried, that "these resolutions be communicated to the Lords; and that their concurrence should be desired therein." On the twenty-fourth of June the Lords met to consider of the resolution and address. The Earl of Westmoreland proposed, that both counsel and evidence should be heard against them; but his proposition was overruled. Lord Grenville then read the resolution of the Commons. This resolution, he said, stated first, that the Slave-trade was contrary to humanity, justice, and sound policy. That it was contrary to humanity was obvious; for humanity might be said to be sympathy for the distress of others, or a desire to accomplish benevolent ends by good means. But did not the Slave-trade convey ideas the very reverse of this definition? It deprived men of all those Comforts, in which it pleased the Creator to make the happiness of his creatures to consist,--of the blessings of society,--of the charities of the dear relationships of husband, wife, father, son, and kindred,--of the due discharge of the relative duties of these,--and of that freedom, which in its pure and natural sense was one of the greatest gifts of God to man. It was impossible to read the evidence, as it related to this trade, without acknowledging the inhumanity of it, and our own disgrace. By what means was it kept up in Africa? By wars instigated, not by the passions of the natives, but by our avarice. He knew it would be said in reply to this, that the slaves, who were purchased by us, would be put to death, if we were not to buy them. But what should we say, if it should turn out, that we were the causes of those very cruelties, which we affected to prevent? But, if it were not so, ought the first nation in the world to condescend to be the executioner of savages? Another way of keeping up the Slave-trade was by the practice of man-stealing. The evidence was particularly clear upon this head. This practice included violence, and often bloodshed. The inhumanity of it therefore could not be doubted. The unhappy victims, being thus procured, were conveyed, he said, across the Atlantic in a manner which justified the charge of inhumanity again. Indeed the suffering here was so great, that neither the mind could conceive nor the tongue describe it. He had said on a former occasion, that in their transportation there was a greater portion of misery condensed within a smaller space, than had ever existed in the known world. He would repeat his words; for he did not know, how he could express himself better on the subject. And, after all these horrors, what was their destiny? It was such, as justified the charge in the resolution again: for, after having survived the sickness arising from the passage, they were doomed to interminable slavery. We had been, he said, so much accustomed to words, descriptive of the cruelty of this traffic, that we had almost forgotten their meaning. He wished that some person, educated as an Englishman, with suitable powers of eloquence, but now for the first time informed of all the horrors of it, were to address their lordships upon it, and he was sure, that they would instantly determine that it should cease. But the continuance of it had rendered cruelty familiar to us; and the recital of its horrors had been so frequent, that we could now hear them stated without being affected as we ought to be. He intreated their lordships, however, to endeavour to conceive the hard case of the unhappy victims of it; and as he had led them to the last stage of their miserable existence, which was in the colonies, to contemplate it there. They were there under the arbitrary will of a cruel task-master from morning till night. When they went to rest, would not their dreams be frightful? When they awoke, would they not awake, ----"only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all; but torture without end Still urges?"---- They knew no change, except in the humour of their masters, to whom their whole destiny was entrusted. We might perhaps flatter ourselves with saying, that they were subject to the will of Englishmen. But Englishmen were not better than others, when in possession of arbitrary power. The very fairest exercise of it was a never-failing corrupter of the heart. But suppose it were allowed, that self-interest might operate some little against cruelty; yet where was the interest of the overseer or the driver? But he knew it would be said, that the evils complained of in the colonies had been mitigated. There might be instances of this; but they could never be cured, while slavery existed. Slavery took away more than half of the human character. Hence the practice, where it existed, of rejecting the testimony of the slave: but, if his testimony was rejected, where could be his redress against his oppressor? Having shown the inhumanity, he would proceed to the second point in the resolution, or the injustice, of the trade. We had two ideas of justice, first, as it belonged to society by virtue of a social compact; and, secondly, as it belonged to men, not as citizens of a community, but as beings of one common nature. In a state of nature, man had a right to the fruit of his own labour absolutely to himself; and one of the main purposes, for which he entered into society, was, that he might be better protected in the possession of his rights. In both cases therefore it was manifestly unjust, that a man should be made to labour during the whole of his life, and yet have no benefit from his labour. Hence the Slave-trade and the Colonial slavery were a violation of the very principle, upon which all law for the protection of property was founded. Whatever benefit was derived from that trade to an individual, it was derived from dishonour and dishonesty. He forced from the unhappy victim of it that, which the latter did not wish to give him; and he gave to the same victim that, which he in vain attempted to show was an equivalent to the thing he took, it being a thing for which there was no equivalent; and which, if he had not obtained by force, he would not have possessed at all. Nor could there be any answer to this reasoning, unless it could be proved, that it had pleased God to give to the inhabitants of Britain a property in the liberty and life of the natives of Africa. But he would go further on this subject. The injustice complained of was not confined to the bare circumstance of robbing them of the right to their own labour. It was conspicuous throughout the system. They, who bought them, became guilty of all the crimes which had been committed in procuring them; and, when they possessed them, of all the crimes which belonged to their inhuman treatment. The injustice in the latter case amounted frequently to murder. For what was it but murder to pursue a practice, which produced untimely death to thousands of innocent and helpless beings? It was a duty, which their lordships owed to their Creator, if they hoped for mercy, to do away this monstrous oppression. With respect to the impolicy of the trade (the third point in the resolution), he would say at once, that whatever was inhuman and unjust must be impolitic. He had, however, no objection to argue the point upon its own particular merits; and, first, he would observe, that a great man, Mr. Pitt, now no more, had exerted his vast powers on many subjects to the admiration of his hearers; but on none more successfully than on the subject of the abolition of the Slave-trade. He proved, after making an allowance for the price paid for the slaves in the West Indies, for the loss of them in the seasoning, and for the expense of maintaining them afterwards, and comparing these particulars with the amount in value of their labour there, that the evils endured by the victims of the traffic were no gain to the master, in whose service they took place. Indeed Mr. Long had laid it down in his History of Jamaica, that the best way to secure the planters from ruin would be to do that, which the resolution recommended. It was notorious, that when any planter was in distress, and sought to relieve himself by increasing the labour on his estate by means of the purchase of new slaves, the measure invariably tended to his destruction. What then was the importation of fresh Africans but a system, tending to the general ruin of the islands? But it had often been said, that without fresh importations the population of the slaves could not be supported in the islands. This, however, was a mistake. It had arisen from reckoning the deaths of the imported Africans, of whom so many were lost in the seasoning, among the deaths of the Creole-slaves. He did not mean to say, that under the existing degree of misery the population would greatly increase; but he would maintain, that, if the deaths and the births were calculated upon those, who were either born, or who had been a long time in the islands, so as to be considered as natives, it would be found that the population had not only been kept up, but that it had been increased. If it was true, that the labour of a free man was cheaper than that of a slave; and also that the labour of a long imported slave was cheaper than that of a fresh imported one; and again, that the chances of mortality were much more numerous among the newly imported slaves in the West Indies, than among those of old standing there (propositions, which he took to be established), we should see new arguments for the impolicy of the trade. It might be stated also, that the importation of vast bodies of men, who had been robbed of their rights, and grievously irritated on that account, into our colonies (where their miserable condition opened new sources of anger and revenge), was the importation only of the seeds of insurrection into them. And here he could not but view with astonishment the reasoning of the West Indian planters, who held up the example of St. Domingo as a warning against the abolition of the Slave-trade; because the continuance of it was one of the great causes of the insurrections and subsequent miseries in that devoted island. Let us but encourage importations in the same rapid progression of increase every year, which took place in St. Domingo, and we should witness the same effect in our own islands. To expose the impolicy of the trade further, he would observe, that it was an allowed axiom, that as the condition of man was improved, he became more useful. The history of our own country, in very early times, exhibited instances of internal slavery, and this to a considerable extent. But we should find that precisely in proportion as that slavery was ameliorated, the power and prosperity of the country flourished. This was exactly applicable to the case in question. There could be no general amelioration of slavery in the West Indies, while the Slave-trade lasted: but, if we were to abolish it, we should make it the interest of every owner of slaves to do that, which would improve their condition; and which indeed would lead ultimately to the annihilation of slavery itself. This great event, however, could not be accomplished at once. It could only be effected in a course of time. It would be endless, he said, to go into all the cases, which would manifest the impolicy of this odious traffic. Inhuman as it was, unjust as it was, he believed it to be equally impolitic; and if their lordships should be of this opinion also, he hoped they would agree to that part of the resolution, in which these truths were expressed. With respect to the other part of it, or that they would proceed to abolish the trade, he observed, that neither the time nor the manner of doing it were specified. Hence if any of them should differ as to these particulars, they might yet vote for the resolution; as they were not pledged to any thing definite in these respects; provided they thought that the trade should be abolished at some time or other; and he did not believe, that there was any one of them, who would sanction its continuance for ever. Lord Hawkesbury said, that he did not mean to discuss the question on the ground of justice and humanity, as contradistinguished from sound policy. If it could fairly be made out, that the African Slave-trade was contrary to justice and humanity, it ought to be abolished. It did not, however, follow, because a great evil subsisted, that therefore it should be removed; for it might be comparatively a less evil, than that which would accompany the attempt to remove it. The noble lord, who had just spoken, had exemplified this: for though slavery was a great evil in itself, he was of opinion, that it could not be done away but in a course of time. A state of slavery, he said, had existed in Africa from the earliest time; and, unless other nations would concur with England in the measure of the abolition, we could not change it for the better. Slavery had existed also throughout all Europe. It had now happily in a great measure been done away. But how? Not by acts of parliament; for these might have retarded the event; but by the progress of civilization, which removed the evil in a gradual and rational manner. He then went over the same ground of argument, as when a member of the Commons in 1792. He said that the inhumanity of the abolition was visible in this, that not one slave less would be taken from Africa; and that such, as were taken from it, would suffer more than they did now, in the hands of foreigners. He maintained also, as before, that the example of St. Domingo afforded one of the strongest arguments against the abolition of the trade. And he concluded by objecting to the resolution, inasmuch as it could do no good; for the substance of it would be to be discussed again in a future session. The Bishop of London (Dr. Porteus) began by noticing the concession of the last speaker, namely, that, if the trade was contrary to humanity and justice, it ought to be abolished. He expected, he said, that the noble lord would have proved, that it was not contrary to these great principles, before he had supported its continuance; but not a word had he said to show, that the basis of the resolution in these respects was false. It followed then, he thought, that as the noble lord had not disproved the premises, he was bound to abide by the conclusion. The ways, he said, in which the Africans were reduced to slavery in their own country, were by wars, many of which were excited for the purpose; by the breaking up of villages; by kidnapping; and by convictions for a violation of their own laws. Of the latter class many were accused falsely, and of crimes which did not exist. He then read a number of extracts from the evidence examined before the privy council, and from the histories of those, who, having lived in Africa, had thrown light upon this subject, before the question was agitated. All these, he said, (and similar instances could be multiplied,) proved the truth of the resolution, that the African Slave-trade was contrary to the principles of humanity, justice, and sound policy. It was moreover, he said, contrary to the principles of the religion we professed. It was not superfluous to say this, when it had been so frequently asserted, that it was sanctioned both by the Jewish and the Christian dispensations. With respect to the Jews he would observe, that there was no such thing as perpetual slavery among them. Their slaves were of two kinds, those of their own nation, and those from the country round about them. The former were to be set free on the seventh year; and the rest, of whatever nation, on the fiftieth, or on the year of Jubilee. With respect to the Christian dispensation, it was a libel to say, that it countenanced such a traffic. It opposed it both in its spirit and in its principle. Nay, it opposed it positively; for it classed men-stealers, or slave-traders, among the murderers of fathers and mothers and the most profane criminals upon earth. The antiquity of slavery in Africa, which the noble lord had glanced at, afforded, he said, no argument for its continuance. Such a mode of defence would prevent for ever the removal of any evil. It would justify the practice of the Chinese, who exposed their infants in the streets to perish. It would also justify piracy; for that practice existed long before we knew any thing of the African Slave-trade. He then combated the argument, that we did a kindness to the Africans by taking them from their homes; and concluded, by stating to their lordships, that, if they refused to sanction the resolution, they would establish these principles, "that though individuals might not rob and murder, yet that nations might--that though individuals incurred the penalties of death by such practices, yet that bodies of men might commit them with impunity for the purposes of lucre,--and that for such purposes they were not only to be permitted, but encouraged." The Lord Chancellor (Erskine) confessed, that he was not satisfied with his own conduct on this subject. He acknowledged with deep contrition, that, during the time he was a member of the other House, he had not once attended, when this great question was discussed. In the West Indies he could say personally, that the slaves were well treated, where he had an opportunity of seeing them. But no judgement was to be formed there with respect to the evils complained of. They must be appreciated as they existed in the trade. Of these he had also been an eye-witness. It was on this account that he felt contrition for not having attended the House on this subject; for there were some cruelties in this traffic which the human imagination could not aggravate. He had witnessed such scenes over the whole coast of Africa: and he could say, that, if their lordships could only have a sudden glimpse of them, they would be struck with horror; and would be astonished, that they could ever have been permitted to exist. What then would they say to their continuance year after year, and from age to age? From information, which he could not dispute, he was warranted in saying, that on this continent husbands were fraudulently and forcibly severed from their wives, and parents from their children; and that all the ties of blood and affection were torn up by the roots. He had himself seen the unhappy natives put together in heaps in the hold of a ship, where, with every possible attention to them, their situation must have been intolerable. He had also heard proved, in courts of justice, facts still more dreadful than those which he had seen. One of these he would just mention. The slaves on board a certain ship rose in a mass to liberate themselves; and having advanced far in the pursuit of their object, it became necessary to repel them by force. Some of them yielded; some of them were killed in the scuffle; but many of them actually jumped into the sea and were drowned; thus preferring death to the misery of their situation; while others hung to the ship, repenting of their rashness, and bewailing with frightful noises their horrid fate. Thus the whole vessel exhibited but one hideous scene of wretchedness. They, who were subdued, and secured in chains, were seized with the flux, which carried many of them off. These things were proved in a trial before a British jury, which had to consider, whether this was a loss, which fell within the policy of insurance, the slaves being regarded as if they had been only a cargo of dead matter. He could mention other instances, but they were much too shocking to be described. Surely their lordships could never consider such a traffic to be consistent with humanity or justice. It was impossible. That the trade had long subsisted there was no doubt; but this was no argument for its continuance. Many evils of much longer standing had been done away; and it was always our duty to attempt to remove them. Should we not exult in the consideration, that we, the inhabitants of a small island, at the extremity of the globe, almost at its north pole, were become the morning-star to enlighten the nations of the earth, and to conduct them out of the shades of darkness into the realms of light; thus exhibiting to an astonished and an admiring world the blessings of a free constitution? Let us then not allow such a glorious opportunity to escape us. It had been urged that we should suffer by the abolition of the Slave-trade. He believed we should not suffer. He believed that our duty and our interest were inseparable: and he had no difficulty in saying, in the face of the world, that his own opinion was, that the interests of a nation would be best preserved by its adherence to the principles of humanity, justice, and religion. The Earl of Westmoreland said, that the African Slave-trade might be contrary to humanity and justice, and yet it might be politic; at least, it might be inconsistent with humanity, and yet be not inconsistent with justice: this was the case, when we executed a criminal, or engaged in war. It was, however, not contrary to justice; for justice in this case must be measured by the law of nations. But the purchase of slaves was not contrary to this law. The Slave-trade was a trade with the consent of the inhabitants of two nations, and procured by no terror, nor by any act of violence whatever. Slavery had existed from the first ages of the world, not only in Africa, but throughout the habitable globe; among the Persians, Greeks, and Romans; and he could compare, with great advantage to his argument, the wretched condition of the slaves in these ancient states with that of those in our colonies. Slavery too had been allowed in a nation, which was under the especial direction of Providence. The Jews were allowed to hold the heathen in bondage. He admitted, that what the learned prelate had said relative to the emancipation of the latter in the year of jubilee was correct; but he denied that his quotation relative to the stealers of men referred to the Christian religion. It was a mere allusion to that, which was done contrary to the law of nations, which was the only measure of justice between states. With respect to the inhumanity of the trade, he would observe, that if their lordships, sitting there as legislators, were to set their faces against every thing which appeared to be inhuman, much of the security on which their lives and property depended, might be shaken, if not totally destroyed. The question was, not whether there was not some evil attending the Slave-trade, but whether by the measure now before them they should increase or diminish the quantum of human misery in the world. He believed, for one, considering the internal state of Africa, and the impossibility of procuring the concurrence of foreign nations in the measure, that they would not be able to do any good by the adoption of it. As to the impolicy of the trade, the policy of it, on the other hand, was so great, that he trembled at the consequences of its abolition. The property connected with this question amounted to a hundred millions. The annual produce of the islands was eighteen millions, and it yielded a revenue of four millions annually. How was this immense property and income to be preserved? Some had said it would be preserved, because the Black population in the islands could be kept up without further supplies. But the planters denied this assertion; and they were the best judges of the subject. He condemned the resolution as a libel upon the wisdom of the law of the land, and upon the conduct of their ancestors. He condemned it also, because, if followed up, it would lead to the abolition of the trade, and the abolition of the trade to the emancipation of the slaves in our colonies. The Bishop of St. Asaph (Dr. Horsley) said, that, allowing the slaves in the West Indies even to be pampered with delicacies, or to be put to rest on a bed of roses, they could not be happy, for--a slave would be still a slave. The question, however, was not concerning the alteration of their condition, but whether we should abolish the practice, by which they were put in that condition? Whether it was humane, just, and politic in us so to place them? This question was easily answered; for he found it difficult to form any one notion of humanity, which did not include a desire of promoting the happiness of others; and he knew of no other justice than that, which was founded on the principle of doing to others, as we should wish they should do to us. And these principles of humanity and justice were so clear, that he found it difficult to make them clearer. Perhaps no difficulty was greater than that of arguing a self-evident proposition, and such he took to be the character of the proposition, that the Slave-trade was inhuman and unjust. It had been said, that slavery had existed from the beginning of the world. He would allow it. But had such a trade as the Slave-trade ever existed before? Would the noble Earl, who had talked of the slavery of ancient Rome and Greece, assert, that in the course of his whole reading, however profound it might have been, he had found any thing resembling such a traffic? Where did it appear in history, that ships were regularly fitted out to fetch away tens of thousands of persons annually, against their will, from their native land; that these were subject to personal indignities and arbitrary punishments during their transportation; and that a certain proportion of them, owing to suffocation and other cruel causes, uniformly perished? He averred, that nothing like the African Slave-trade was ever practised in any nation upon earth. If the trade then was repugnant, as he maintained it was, to justice and humanity, he did not see how, without aiding and abetting injustice and inhumanity, any man could sanction it: and he thought that the noble baron (Hawkesbury) was peculiarly bound to support the resolution; for he had admitted that if it could be shown, that the trade was contrary to these principles, the question would be at an end. Now this contrariety had been made apparent, and his lordship had not even attempted to refute it. He would say but little on the subject of revealed religion, as it related to this question, because the reverend prelate, near him, had spoken so fully upon it. He might observe, however, that at the end of the sixth year, when the Hebrew slave was emancipated, he was to be furnished liberally from the flock, the floor, and the wine-press of his master. Lord Holland lamented the unfaithfulness of the noble baron (Hawkesbury) to his own principles, and the inflexible opposition of the noble earl (Westmoreland), from both which circumstances he despaired for ever of any assistance from them to this glorious cause. The latter wished to hear evidence on the subject, for the purpose, doubtless, of delay. He was sure, that the noble earl did not care what the evidence would say on either side; for his mind was made up, that the trade ought not to be abolished. The noble earl had made a difference between humanity, justice, and sound policy. God forbid, that we should ever admit such distinctions in this country! But he had gone further, and said, that a thing might be inhuman, and yet not unjust; and he put the case of the execution of a criminal in support of it. Did he not by this position confound all notions of right and wrong in human institutions? When a criminal was justly executed, was not the execution justice to him who suffered, and humanity to the body of the people at large? The noble earl had said also, that we should do no good by the abolition, because other nations would not concur in it. He did not know what other nations would do; but this he knew, that we ourselves ought not to be unjust because they should refuse to be honest. It was, however, self-obvious, that, if we admitted no more slaves into our colonies, the evil would be considerably diminished. Another of his arguments did not appear to be more solid; for surely the Slave-trade ought not to be continued, merely because the effect of the abolition might ultimately be that of the emancipation of the slaves; an event, which would be highly desirable in its due time. The noble lord had also said, that the planters were against the abolition, and that without their consent it could never be accomplished. He differed from him in both these points: for, first, he was a considerable planter himself, and yet he was a friend to the measure: secondly, by cutting off all further supplies, the planters would be obliged to pay more attention to the treatment of their slaves, and this treatment would render the trade unnecessary. The noble earl had asserted also, that the population in the West Indies could not be kept up without further importations; and this was the opinion of the planters, who were the best judges of the subject. As a planter he differed from his lordship again. If indeed all the waste lands were to be brought into cultivation, the present population would be insufficient. But the government had already determined, that the trade should not be continued for such a purpose. We were no longer to continue pirates, or executioners for every petty tyrant in Africa, in order that every holder of a bit of land in our islands might cultivate the whole of his allotment; a work, which might require centuries. Making this exception, he would maintain, that no further importations were necessary. Few or no slaves had been imported into Antigua for many years; and he believed, that even some had been exported from it. As to Jamaica, although in one year fifteen thousand died in consequence of a hurricane and famine, the excess of deaths over the births during the twenty years preceding 1788 was only one per cent. Deducting, however, the mortality of the newly imported slaves, and making the calculation upon the Negros born in the island or upon those who had been long there, he believed the births and the deaths would be found equal. He had a right therefore to argue that the Negros, with better treatment (which the abolition would secure), would not only maintain but increase their population, without any aid from Africa. He would add, that the newly imported Africans brought with them not only disorders, which ravaged the plantations, but danger from the probability of insurrections. He wished most heartily for the total abolition of the trade. He was convinced, that it was both inhuman, unjust, and impolitic. This had always been his opinion as an individual since he was capable of forming one. It was his opinion then as a legislator. It was his opinion as a colonial proprietor; and it was his opinion as an Englishman, wishing for the prosperity of the British empire. The Earl of Suffolk contended, that the population of the slaves in the islands could be kept up by good treatment, so as to be sufficient for their cultivation. He entered into a detail of calculations from the year 1772 downwards in support of this statement. He believed all the miseries of St. Domingo arose from the vast importation of Africans. He had such a deep sense of the inhumanity and injustice of the Slave-trade, that, if ever he wished any action of his life to be recorded, it would be that of the vote he should then give in support of the resolution. Lord Sidmouth said, that he agreed to the substance of the resolution, but yet he could not support it. Could he be convinced that the trade would be injurious to the cause of humanity and justice, the question with him would be decided; for policy could not be opposed to humanity and justice. He had been of opinion for the last twenty years, that the interests of the country and those of numerous individuals were so deeply blended with this traffic, that we should be very cautious how we proceeded. With respect to the cultivation of new lands, he would not allow a single Negro to be imported for such a purpose; but he must have a regard to the old plantations. When he found a sufficient increase in the Black population to continue the cultivation already established there, then, but not till then, he would agree to an abolition of the trade. Earl Stanhope said he would not detain their lordships long. He could not, however, help expressing his astonishment at what had fallen from the last speaker; for he had evidently confessed that the Slave-trade was inhuman and unjust, and then he had insinuated, that it was neither inhuman nor unjust to continue it. A more paradoxical or whimsical opinion, he believed, was never entertained, or more whimsically expressed in that house. The noble viscount had talked of the interests of the planters: but this was but a part of the subject; for surely the people of Africa were not to be forgotten. He did not understand the practice of complimenting the planters with the lives of men, women, and helpless children by thousands for the sake of their pecuniary advantage; and they, who adopted it, whatever they might think of the consistency of their own conduct, offered an insult to the sacred names of humanity and justice. The noble earl (Westmoreland) had asked what would be the practical effect of the abolition of the Slave-trade. He would inform him. It would do away the infamous practices, which took place in Africa; it would put an end to the horrors of the passage; it would save many thousands of our fellow-creatures from the miseries of eternal slavery; it would oblige the planters to treat those better, who were already in that unnatural state; it would increase the population of our islands; it would give a death-blow to the diabolical calculations, whether it was cheaper to work the Negros to death and recruit the gangs by fresh importations, or to work them moderately and to treat them kindly. He knew of no event, which would be attended with so many blessings. There was but one other matter, which he would notice. The noble baron (Hawkesbury) had asserted, that all the horrors of St. Domingo were the consequence of the speculative opinions, which were current in a neighbouring kingdom on the subject of liberty. They had, he said, no such origin. They were owing to two causes; first, to the vast number of Negros recently imported into that island; and, secondly, to a scandalous breach of faith by the French legislature. This legislature held out the idea not only of the abolition of the Slave-trade, but also of all slavery; but it broke its word. It held forth the rights of man to the whole human race, and then, in practice, it most infamously abandoned every article in these rights; so that it became the scorn of all the enlightened and virtuous part of mankind. These were the great causes of the miseries of St. Domingo, and not the speculative opinions of France. Earl Grosvenor could not but express the joy he felt at the hope, after all his disappointments, that this wicked trade would be done away. He hoped that His Majesty's ministers were in earnest, and that they would, early in the next session, take this great question up with a determination to go through with it; so that another year should not pass, before we extended the justice and humanity of the country to the helpless and unhappy inhabitants of Africa. Earl Fitzwilliam said he was fearful, lest the calamities of St. Domingo should be brought home to our own islands. We ought not, he thought, too hastily to adopt the resolution on that account. He should therefore support the previous question. Lord Ellenborough said, he was sorry to differ from his noble friend (Lord Sidmouth), and yet he could not help saying that if after twenty years, during which this question had been discussed by both Houses of Parliament, their Lordships' judgments were not ripe for its determination, he could not look with any confidence to a time, when they would be ready to decide it. The question then before them was short and plain. It was, whether the African Slave-trade was inhuman, unjust, and impolitic. If the premises were true, we could not too speedily bring it to a conclusion. The subject had been frequently brought before him in a way, which had enabled him to become acquainted with it; and he was the more anxious on that account to deliver his sentiments upon it as a peer of Parliament, without reference to any thing he had been called upon to do in the discharge of his professional duty. When he looked at the mode in which this traffic commenced, by the spoliation of the rights of a whole quarter of the globe; by the misery of whole nations of helpless Africans; by tearing them from their homes, their families, and their friends; when he saw the unhappy victims carried away by force; thrust into a dungeon in the hold of a ship, in which the interval of their passage from their native to a foreign land was filled up with misery, under every degree of debasement, and in chains; and when he saw them afterwards consigned to an eternal slavery; he could not but contemplate the whole system with horror. It was inhuman in its beginning, inhuman in its progress, and inhuman to the very end. Nor was it more inhuman than it was unjust. The noble earl, (Westmoreland) in adverting to this part of the question, had considered it as a question of justice between two nations. But it was a moral question. Although the natives of Africa might be taken by persons authorized by their own laws to take and dispose of them, and the practice therefore might be said to be legal as it respected them, yet no man could doubt, whatever ordinances they might have to sanction it, that it was radically, essentially, and in principle, unjust; and therefore there could be no excuse for us in continuing it. On the general principle of natural justice, which was paramount to all ordinances of men, it was quite impossible to defend this traffic; and he agreed with the noble baron (Hawkesbury) that, having decided that it was inhuman and unjust, we should not inquire whether it was impolitic. Indeed, the inquiry itself would be impious; for it was the common ordinance of God, that that, which was inhuman and unjust, should never be for the good of man. Its impolicy therefore was included in its injustice and its inhumanity. And he had no doubt, when the importations were stopped, that the planters would introduce a change of system among their slaves, which would increase their population, so as to render any further supplies from Africa unnecessary. It had been proved indeed, that the Negro-population in some of the islands was already in this desirable state. Many other happy effects would follow. As to the losses which would arise from the abolition of the Slave-trade, they, who were interested in the continuance of it, had greatly over-rated, them. When pleading formerly in his professional capacity for the merchants of Liverpool at their lordships' bar, he had often delivered statements, which he had received from them; and which he afterward discovered to be grossly incorrect. He could say from his own knowledge, that the assertion of the noble earl (Westmoreland), that property to the amount of a hundred millions would be endangered, was wild and fanciful. He would not however deny, that some loss might accompany the abolition; but there could be no difficulty in providing for it. Such a consideration ought not to be allowed to impede their progress in getting rid of an horrible injustice. But it had been said, that we should do but little in the cause of humanity by abolishing the Slave-trade; because other nations would continue it. He did not believe they would. He knew that America was about to give it up. He believed the states of Europe would give it up. But, supposing that they were all to continue it, would not our honour be the greater? Would not our virtue be the more signal? for then, ----"faithful we Among the faithless found"---- to which he would add, that undoubtedly we should diminish the evil, as far as the number of miserable beings was concerned, which was accustomed to be transported to our own colonies. Earl Spencer agreed with the noble viscount (Sidmouth) that the amelioration of the condition of the slaves was an object, which might be effected in the West Indies; but he was certain, that the most effectual way of improving it would be by the total and immediate abolition of the Slave-trade; and for that reason he would support the resolution. Had the resolution held out emancipation to them, it would not have had his assent; for it would have ill become the character of this country, if it had been once promised, to have withheld it from them. It was to such deception that the horrors of St. Domingo were to be attributed. He would not enter into the discussion of the general subject at present. He was convinced that the trade was what the resolution stated it to be, inhuman, unjust, and impolitic. He wished therefore, most earnestly indeed, for its abolition. As to the mode of effecting it, it should be such, as would be attended with the least inconvenience to all parties. At the same time he would not allow small inconveniences to stand in the way of the great claims of humanity, justice, and religion. The question was then put on the resolution, and carried by a majority of forty-one to twenty. The same address also to His Majesty, which had been agreed upon by the Commons, was directly afterward moved. This also was carried, but without the necessity of a division. The resolution and the motion having passed both Houses, one other parliamentary measure was yet necessary to complete the proceedings of this session. It was now almost universally believed, in consequence of what had already taken place there, that the Slave-trade had received its death-wound; and that it would not long survive it. It was supposed therefore, that the slave-merchants would, in the interim, fit out not only all the vessels they had, but even buy others, to make what might be called their last harvest. Hence extraordinary scenes of rapine, and murder, would be occasioned in Africa. To prevent these a new bill was necessary. This was accordingly introduced into the Commons. It enacted, but with one exception, that from and after the first of August 1806, no vessel should clear out for the Slave-trade, unless it should have been previously employed by the same owner or owners in the said trade, or should be proved to have been contracted for previously to the tenth of June 1806, for the purpose of being employed in that trade. It may now be sufficient to say that this bill also passed both houses of parliament; soon after which the session ended. CHAPTER X. _Continuation from July 18O6 to March 18O7--Death of Mr. Fox--Bill for the total abolition of the Slave-trade carried in the House of Lords--sent from thence to the Commons--amended and passed there--carried back, and passed with its amendments by the Lords--receives the royal assent--Reflections on this great event._ It was impossible for the committee to look back to the proceedings of the last session, as they related to the great question under their care, without feeling a profusion of joy, as well as of gratitude to those, by whose virtuous endeavours they had taken place. But, alas, how few of our earthly pleasures come to us without alloy! a melancholy event succeeded. We had the painful intelligence, in the month of October 1806, that one of the oldest and warmest friends of the cause was then numbered with the dead. Of the character of Mr. Fox, as it related to this cause, I am bound to take notice. And, first, I may observe, that he professed an attachment to it almost as soon as it was ushered into the world. Early in the year 1788, when he was waited upon by a deputation of the committee, his language was, as has appeared in the first volume, "that he would support their object to its fullest extent, being convinced that there was no remedy for the evil but in the total abolition of the trade." His subsequent conduct evinced the sincerity of his promises. He was constant in his attendance in Parliament whenever the question was brought forward; and he never failed to exert his powerful eloquence in its favour. The countenance, indeed, which he gave it, was of the greatest importance to its welfare; for most of his parliamentary friends, who followed his general political sentiments, patronized it also. By the aid of these, joined to that of the private friends of Mr. Pitt, and of other members, who espoused it without reference to party, it was always so upheld, that after the year 1791 no one of the defeats, which it sustained, was disgraceful. The majority on the side of those interested in the continuance of the trade was always so trifling, that the abolitionists were preserved a formidable body, and their cause respectable. I never heard whether Mr. Fox, when he came into power, made any stipulations with His Majesty on the subject of the Slave-trade: but this I know, that he determined upon the abolition of it, if it were practicable, as the highest glory of his administration, and as the greatest earthly blessing which it was in the power of the Government to bestow; and that he took considerable pains to convince some of his colleagues in the cabinet of the propriety of the measure. When the resolution, which produced the debates in parliament, as detailed in the last chapter, was under contemplation, it was thought expedient that Mr. Fox, as the minister of state in the House of Commons, should introduce it himself. When applied to for this purpose he cheerfully undertook the office, thus acting in consistency with his public declaration in the year 1791, "that in whatever situation he might ever be, he would use his warmest efforts for the promotion of this righteous cause." Before the next measure, or the bill to prevent the sailing of any new vessel in the trade after the first of August, was publicly disclosed, it was suggested to him, that the session was nearly over; that he might possibly weary both Houses by another motion on the subject; and that, if he were to lose it, or to experience a diminution of his majorities in either, he might injure the cause; which was then in the road to triumph. To this objection he replied, "that he believed both Houses were disposed to get rid of the trade; that his own life was precarious; that if he omitted to serve the injured Africans on this occasion, he might have no other opportunity of doing it; and that he dared not, under these circumstances, neglect so great a duty." This prediction relative to himself became unfortunately verified; for his constitution, after this, began to decline, till at length his mortal destiny, in the eyes of his medical attendants, was sealed. But even then, when removed by pain and sickness from the discussion of political subjects, he never forgot this cause. In his own sufferings he was not unmindful of those of the injured Africans. "Two things," said he, on his death-bed, "I wish earnestly to see accomplished--peace with Europe,--and the abolition of the Slave-trade." But knowing well, that we could much better protect ourselves against our own external enemies, than this helpless people against their oppressors, he added, "but of the two I wish the latter." These sentiments he occasionally repeated, so that the subject was frequently in his thoughts in his last illness. Nay, "the very hope of the abolition (to use the expression of Lord Howick in the House of Commons) quivered on his lips in the last hour of it." Nor is it improbable, if earthly scenes ever rise to view at that awful crisis, and are perceptible, that it might have occupied his mind in the last moment of his existence. Then indeed would joy ineffable, from a conviction of having prepared the way for rescuing millions of human beings from misery, have attended the spirit on its departure from the body; and then also would this spirit, most of all purified when in the contemplation of peace, good-will, and charity upon earth, be in the fittest state, on gliding from its earthly cavern, to commix with the endless ocean of benevolence and love. At length the session of 1807 commenced. It was judged advisable by Lord Grenville, that the expected motion on this subject should, contrary to the practice hitherto adopted, be agitated first in the Lords. Accordingly, on the second of January he presented a bill, called an act for the abolition of the Slave-trade; but he then proposed only to print it, and to let it lie on the table, that it might be maturely considered, before it should be discussed. On the fourth no less than four counsel were heard against the bill. On the fifth the debate commenced. But of this I shall give no detailed account; nor, indeed, of any of those, which followed it. The truth is, that the subject has been exhausted. They, who spoke in favour of the abolition, said very little that was new concerning it. They, who spoke against it, brought forward, as usual, nothing but negative assertions and fanciful conjectures. To give therefore, what was said by both parties at these times, would be but useless repetition[A]. To give, on the other hand, that which was said on one side only would appear partial. Hence I shall offer to the reader little more than a narrative of facts upon these occasions. [Footnote A: The different debates in both Houses on this occasion would occupy the half of another volume. This is another circumstance, which reconciles me to the omission. But that, which reconciles me the most is, that they will be soon published. In these debates justice has been done to every individual concerned in them.] Lord Grenville opened the debate by a very luminous speech. He was supported by the Duke of Glocester, the Bishop of Durham (Dr. Barrington), the Earls Moira, Selkirk, and Roslyn, and the Lords Holland, King, and Hood. The opponents of the bill were the Duke of Clarence, the Earls Westmoreland and St. Vincent, and the Lords Sidmouth, Eldon, and Hawkesbury. The question being called for at four o'clock in the morning, it appeared that the personal votes and proxies in favour of Lord Grenville's motion amounted to one hundred, and those against it to thirty-six. Thus passed the first bill in England, which decreed, that the African Slave-trade should cease. And here I cannot omit paying to his Highness the Duke of Glocester the tribute of respect, which is due to him, for having opposed the example of his royal relations on this subject in behalf of an helpless and oppressed people. The sentiments too, which he delivered on this occasion, ought not to be forgotten. "This trade," said he, "is contrary to the principles of the British constitution. It is, besides, a cruel and criminal traffic in the blood of my fellow-creatures. It is a foul stain on the national character. It is an offence to the Almighty. On every ground therefore on which a decision can be made; on the ground of policy, of liberty, of humanity, of justice, but, above all, on the ground of religion, I shall vote for its immediate extinction." On the tenth of February the bill was carried to the House of Commons. On the twentieth, counsel were heard against it; after which, by agreement, the second reading of it took place. On the twenty-third the question being put for the commitment of it, Lord Viscount Howick (now Earl Grey) began an eloquent speech. After he had proceeded in it some way, he begged leave to enter his protest against certain principles of relative justice, which had been laid down. "The merchants and planters," said he, "have an undoubted right, in common with other subjects of the realm, to demand justice at our hands. But that, which they denominate justice, does not correspond with the legitimate character of that virtue; for they call upon us to violate the rights of others, and to transgress our own moral duties. That, which they distinguish as justice, involves in itself the greatest injury to others. It is not in fact justice, which they demand, but--favour--and favour to themselves at the expense of the most grievous oppression of their fellow-creatures." He then argued the question upon the ground of policy. He showed by a number of official documents, how little this trade had contributed to the wealth of the nation, being but a fifty-fourth part of its export trade; and he contended that as four-sevenths of it had been cut off by His Majesty's proclamation, and the passing of the foreign Slave-bill in a former year, no detriment of any consequence would arise from the present measure. He entered into an account of the loss of seamen, and of the causes of the mortality, in this trade. He went largely into the subject of the Negro-population in the islands from official documents, giving an account of it up to the latest date. He pointed out the former causes of its diminution, and stated how the remedies for these would follow. He showed how, even if the quantity of colonial produce should be diminished for a time, this disadvantage would, in a variety of instances, be more than counterbalanced by advantages, which would not only be great in themselves, but permanent. He then entered into a refutation of the various objections which had been made to the abolition, in an eloquent and perspicuous manner; and concluded by appealing to the great authorities of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox in behalf of the proposed measure. "These precious ornaments, he said, of their age and country had examined the subject with all the force of their capacious minds. On this question they had dismissed all animosity--all difference of opinion--and had proceeded in union;--and he believed, that the best tribute of respect we could show, or the most splendid monument we could raise, to their memories, Would be by the adoption of the glorious measure of the abolition of the Slave-trade." Lord Howick was supported by Mr. Roscoe, who was then one of the members for Liverpool; by Mr. Lushington, Mr. Fawkes, Lord Mahon, Lord Milton, Sir John Doyle, Sir Samuel Romilly, Mr. Wilberforce, and Earl Percy, the latter of whom wished that a clause might be put into the bill, by which all the children of slaves, born after January 1810, should be made free. General Gascoyne and Mr. Hibbert opposed the bill. Mr. Manning hoped that compensation would be made to the planters in case of loss. Mr. Bathurst and Mr. Hiley Addington preferred a plan for gradual abolition to the present mode. These having spoken, it appeared on a division that there were for the question two hundred and eighty-three, and against it only sixteen. Of this majority I cannot but remark, that it was probably the largest that was ever announced on any occasion, where the House was called upon to divide. I must observe also, that there was such an enthusiasm among the members at this time, that there appeared to be the same kind and degree of feeling, as manifested itself within the same walls in the year 1788, when the question was first started. This enthusiasm too, which was of a moral nature, was so powerful, that it seemed even to extend to a conversion of the heart: for several of the old opponents of this righteous cause went away, unable to vote against it; while others of them staid in their places, and voted in its favour. On the twenty-seventh of February Lord Howick moved, that the House resolve itself into a committee on the bill for the abolition of the Slave-trade. Sir C. Pole, Mr. Hughan, Brown, Bathurst, Windham, and Fuller opposed the motion; and Sir R. Milbank, and Mr. Wynne, Barham, Courtenay, Montague, Jacob, Whitbread, and Herbert (of Kerry), supported it. At length the committee was allowed to sit _pro forma_, and Mr. Hobhouse was put into the chair. The bill then went through it, and, the House being resumed, the report was received and read. On the sixth of March, when the committee sat again, Sir C. Pole moved, that the year 1812 be substituted for the year 1807, as the time when the trade should be abolished. This amendment produced a long debate, which was carried on by Sir C. Pole, Mr. Fuller, Hiley Addington, Rose, Gascoyne, and Bathurst on one side; and by Mr. Ward, Sir P. Francis, General Vyse, Sir T. Turton, Mr. Whitbread, Lord Henry Petty, Mr. Canning, Stanhope, Perceval, and Wilberforce on the other. At length, on a division, there appeared to be one hundred and twenty-five against the amendment, and for it only seventeen. The chairman then read the bill, and it was agreed that he should report it with the amendments on Monday. The bill enacted, that no vessel should clear out for slaves from any port within the British dominions after the first of May 1807, and that no slave should be landed in the colonies after the first of March 1808. On the sixteenth of March, on the motion of Lord Henry Petty, the question was put, that the bill be read a third time. Mr. Hibbert, Captain Herbert, Mr. T.W. Plomer, Mr. Windham, and Lord Castlereagh spoke against the motion. Sir P. Francis, Mr. Lyttleton, Mr. H. Thornton, and Mr. Barham, Sheridan, and Wilberforce supported it. After this the bill was passed without a division[A]. [Footnote A: S. Lushington, esq. M.P. for Yarmouth, gave his voluntary attendance and assistance to the Committee, during all these motions, and J. Bowdler, esquire, was elected a member of it.] On Wednesday, the eighteenth, Lord Howick, accompanied by Mr. Wilberforce and others, carried the bill to the Lords. Lord Grenville, on receiving it, moved that it should be printed, and that, if this process could be finished by Monday, it should be taken into consideration on that day. The reason of this extraordinary haste was, that His Majesty, displeased with the introduction of the Roman-catholic officers' bill into the Commons, had signified his intention to the members of the existing administration, that they were to be displaced. The uneasiness, which, a few days before, had sprung up among the friends of the abolition, on the report that this event was probable, began now to show itself throughout the kingdom. Letters were written from various parts, manifesting the greatest fear and anxiety on account of the state of the bill, and desiring answers of consolation. Nor was this state of the mind otherwise than what might have been expected upon such an occasion; for the bill was yet to be printed--Being an amended one, it was to be argued again in the Lords--It was then to receive the royal assent--All these operations implied time; and it was reported that the new ministry[A] was formed; among whom were several, who had shown a hostile disposition to the cause. [Footnote A: The only circumstance, which afforded comfort at this time, was that the honourable Spencer Perceval and Mr. Canning were included in it, who were warm patrons of this great measure.] On Monday, the twenty-third, the House of Lords met. Such extraordinary diligence had been used in printing the bill, that it was then ready. Lord Grenville immediately brought it forward. The Earl of Westmoreland and the Marquis of Sligo opposed it. The Duke of Norfolk and the Bishop of Llandaff (Dr. Watson) supported it. The latter said, that this great act of justice would be recorded in heaven. The amendments were severally adopted without a division. But here an omission of three words was discovered, namely, "country, territory, or place," which, if not rectified, might defeat the purposes of the bill. An amendment was immediately proposed and carried. Thus the bill received the last sanction of the Peers. Lord Grenville then congratulated the House on the completion, on its part, of the most glorious measure, that had ever been adopted by any legislative body in the world. The amendment, now mentioned, occasioned the bill to be sent back to the Commons. On the twenty-fourth, on the motion of Lord Howick, it was immediately taken into consideration there, and agreed to; and it was carried back to the Lords, as approved of, on the same day. But though the bill had now passed both houses, there was an awful fear throughout the kingdom, lest it should not receive the royal assent before the ministry was dissolved. This event took place the next day; for on Wednesday the twenty-fifth, at half past eleven in the morning; His Majesty's message was delivered to the different members of it, that they were then to wait upon him to deliver up the seals of their offices. It then appeared that a commission for the royal assent to this bill among others had been obtained. This commission was instantly opened by the Lord Chancellor (Erskine), who was accompanied by the Lords Holland and Auckland; and as the clock struck twelve, just when the sun was in its meridian splendour to witness this august Act, this establishment of a Magna Charta for Africa in Britain, and to sanction it by its most vivid and glorious beams, it was completed. The ceremony being over, the seals of the respective offices were delivered up; so that the execution of this commission was the last act of the administration of Lord Grenville; an administration, which, on account of its virtuous exertions in behalf of the oppressed African race, will pass to posterity, living through successive generations, in the love and gratitude of the most virtuous of mankind. Thus ended one of the most glorious contests, after a continuance for twenty years, of any ever carried on in any age or country. A contest, not of brutal violence, but of reason. A contest between those, who felt deeply for the happiness and the honour of their fellow-creatures, and those, who, through vicious custom and the impulse of avarice, had trampled under-foot the sacred rights of their nature, and had even attempted to efface all title to the divine image from their minds. Of the immense advantages of this contest I know not how to speak. Indeed, the very agitation of the question, which it involved, has been highly important. Never was the heart of man so expanded. Never were its generous sympathies so generally and so perseveringly excited. These sympathies, thus called into existence, have been useful in the preservation of a national virtue. For any thing we know, they may have contributed greatly to form a counteracting balance against the malignant spirit, generated by our almost incessant wars during this period, so as to have preserved us from barbarism. It has been useful also in the discrimination of moral character. In private life it has enabled us to distinguish the virtuous from the more vicious part of the community[A]. It has shown the general philanthropist. It has unmasked the vicious in spite of his pretension to virtue. It has afforded us the same knowledge in public life. It has separated the moral statesman from the wicked politician. It has shown us who, in the legislative and executive offices of our country are fit to save, and who to destroy, a nation. [Footnote A: I have had occasion to know many thousand persons in the course of my travels on this subject; and I can truly say, that the part, which these took on this great question, was always a true criterion of their moral character. Some indeed opposed the abolition, who seemed to be so respectable, that it was difficult to account for their conduct; but it invariably turned out in a course of time, either that they had been influenced by interested motives, or that they were not men of steady moral principle. In the year 1792, when the national enthusiasm was so great, the good were as distinguishable from the bad, according to their disposition to this great cause, as if the divine Being had marked them; or, as a friend of mine the other day observed, as we may suppose the sheep to be from the goats on the day of judgment.] It has furnished us also with important lessons. It has proved what a creature man is! how devoted he is to his own interest! to what a length of atrocity he can go, unless fortified by religious principle! But as if this part of the prospect would be too afflicting, it has proved to us, on the other hand, what a glorious instrument he may become in the hands of his Maker; and that a little virtue, when properly leavened, is made capable of counteracting the effects of a mass of vice! With respect to the end obtained by this contest, or the great measure of the abolition of the Slave-trade as it has now passed, I know not how to appreciate its importance. To our own country, indeed, it is invaluable. We have lived, in consequence of it, to see the day, when it has been recorded as a principle in our legislation, that commerce itself shall have its moral boundaries. We have lived to see the day, when we are likely to be delivered from the contagion of the most barbarous opinions. They, who supported this wicked traffic, virtually denied, that man was a moral being. They substituted the law of force for the law of reason. But the great Act now under our consideration, has banished the impious doctrine, and restored the rational creature to his moral rights. Nor is it a matter of less pleasing consideration, that, at this awful crisis, when the constitutions of kingdoms are on the point of dissolution, the stain of the blood of Africa is no longer upon us, or that we have been freed (alas, if it be not too late!) from a load of guilt, which has long hung like a mill-stone about our necks, ready to sink us to perdition. In tracing the measure still further, or as it will affect other lands, we become only the more sensible of its importance: for can we pass over to Africa; can we pass over to the numerous islands, the receptacles of miserable beings from thence; and can we call to mind the scenes of misery, which have been passing in each of these regions of the earth, without acknowledging, that one of the greatest sources of suffering to the human race has, as far as our own power extends, been done away? Can we pass over to these regions again, and contemplate the multitude of crimes, which the agency necessary for keeping up the barbarous system produced, without acknowledging, that a source of the most monstrous and extensive wickedness has been removed also? But here, indeed, it becomes us peculiarly to rejoice; for though nature shrinks from pain, and compassion is engendered in us when we see it become the portion of others, yet what is physical suffering compared with moral guilt? The misery of the oppressed is, in the first place, not contagious like the crime of the oppressor. Nor is the mischief, which it generates, either so frightful or so pernicious. The body, though under affliction, may retain its shape; and, if it even perish, what is the loss of it but of worthless dust? But when the moral springs of the mind are poisoned, we lose the most excellent part of the constitution of our nature, and the divine image is no longer perceptible in us. Nor are the two evils of similar duration. By a decree of Providence, for which we cannot be too thankful, we are made mortal. Hence the torments of the oppressor are but temporary; whereas the immortal part of us, when once corrupted, may carry its pollutions with it into another world. But independently of the quantity of physical suffering and the innumerable avenues to vice in more than a quarter of the globe, which this great measure will cut off, there are yet blessings, which we have reason to consider as likely to flow from it. Among these we cannot overlook the great probability, that Africa, now freed from the vicious and barbarous effects of this traffic, may be in a better state to comprehend and receive the sublime truths of the Christian religion. Nor can we overlook the probability, that, a new system of treatment necessarily springing up in our islands, the same bright sun of consolation may visit her children there. But here a new hope rises to our view. Who knows but that emancipation, like a beautiful plant, may, in its due season, rise out of the ashes of the abolition of the Slave-trade, and that, when its own intrinsic value shall be known, the seed of it may be planted in other lands? And looking at the subject in this point of view, we cannot but be struck with the wonderful concurrence of events as previously necessary for this purpose, namely, that two nations, England and America, the mother and the child, should, in the same month of the same year, have abolished this impious traffic; nations, which at this moment have more than a million of subjects within their jurisdiction to partake of the blessing; and one of which, on account of her local situation and increasing power, is likely in time to give, if not law, at least a tone to the manners and customs of the great continent, on which she is situated. Reader! Thou art now acquainted with the history of this contest! Rejoice in the manner of its termination! And, if thou feelest grateful for the event, retire within thy closet, and pour out thy thanksgivings to the Almighty for this his unspeakable act of mercy to thy oppressed fellow-creatures. THE END. TABLE OF CONTENTS. VOL. I. CHAP. 1. INTRODUCTION--Estimate of the evil of the Slave-trade--and of the blessing of the Abolition of it--Usefulness of the contemplation of this subject CHAP. 2. Those, who favoured the cause of the Africans previously to 1787, were so many necessary forerunners in it--Cardinal Ximenes--and others CHAP. 3. Forerunners continued to 1787--divided now into four classes--First consists of persons in England of various descriptions, Godwyn, Baxter, and others CHAP. 4. Second, of the Quakers in England, George Fox, and his religious descendants CHAP. 5. Third, of the Quakers in America--Union of these with individuals of other religious denominations in the same cause CHAP. 6. Facility of junction between the members of these three different classes CHAP. 7. Fourth consists of Dr. Peckard--then of the Author--Author wishes to embark in the cause--falls in with several of the members of these classes CHAP. 8. Fourth class continued--Langton--Baker--and others--Author now embarks in the cause as a business of his life CHAP. 9. Fourth class continued--Sheldon--Mackworth--and others--Author seeks for further information on the subject--and visits Members of Parliament CHAP. 10. Fourth class continued--Author enlarges his knowledge--Meeting at Mr. Wilberforce's--Remarkable junction of all the four classes, and a Committee formed out of them, in May 1787, for the Abolition of the Slave-trade CHAP. 11. History of the preceding classes, and of their junction, shown by means of a map CHAP. 12. Author endeavours to do away the charge of ostentation in consequence of becoming so conspicuous in this work CHAP. 13. Proceedings of the Committee--Emancipation declared to be no part of its object--Wrongs of Africa by Mr. Roscoe CHAP. 14. Author visits Bristol to collect information--Ill usage of seamen in the Slave-trade--Articles of African produce--Massacre at Calebàr CHAP. 15. Mode of procuring and paying seamen in that trade--their mortality in it--Construction and admeasurement of Slave-ships--Difficulty of procuring evidence--Cases of Gardiner and Arnold CHAP. 16. Author meets with Alexander Falconbridge--visits ill-treated and disabled seamen--takes a mate out of one of the Slave-vessels--and puts another in prison for murder CHAP. 17. Visits Liverpool--Specimens of African produce--Dock-duties--Iron-instruments used in the traffic--His introduction to Mr. Norris CHAP. 18. Manner of procuring and paying seamen at Liverpool in the Slave-trade--their treatment and mortality--Murder of Peter Green--Dangerous situation of the Author in consequence of his inquiries CHAP. 19. Author proceeds to Manchester--delivers a discourse there on the subject of the Slave-trade--revisits Bristol--New and difficult situation--suddenly crosses the Severn at night--returns to London CHAP. 20. Labours of the Committee during the Author's journey--Mr. Sharp elected chairman--Seal engraved--Letters from different correspondents to the Committee CHAP. 21. Further labours of the Committee to February 1788--List of new Correspondents CHAP. 22. Progress of the cause to the middle of May--Petitions to Parliament--Author's interviews with Mr. Pitt and Mr. Grenville--Privy council inquire into the subject--examine Liverpool-delegates--Proceedings of the Committee for the abolition--Motion and debate in the House of Commons--Discussion of the general question postponed to the next session CHAP. 23. Progress to the middle of July--Bill to diminish the horrors of the Middle Passage--Evidence examined against it--Debates--Bill passed through both Houses--Proceedings of the Committee, and effects of them. VOL. II. CHAP. 1. Continuation from June 1758 to July 1739--Author travels in search of fresh evidence--Privy council resume their examinations--prepare their report--Proceedings of the Committee for the abolition--and of the Planters and others--Privy council report laid on the table of the House of Commons--Debate upon it--Twelve propositions--Opponents refuse to argue from the report--Examine new evidence of their own in the House of Commons--Renewal of the Middle Passage-Bill--Death and character of Ramsay CHAP. 2. Continuation from July 1789 to July 1790--Author travels to Paris to promote the abolition in France--His proceedings there--returns to England--Examination of opponents' evidence resumed in the Commons--Author travels in quest of new evidence on the side of the abolition--This, after great opposition, introduced--Renewal of the Middle Passage-Bill--Section of the Slave-ship--Cowper's Negro's Complaint--Wedgwood's Cameos. CHAP. 3. Continuation from July 1790 to July 1791--Author travels again--Examinations on the side of the abolition resumed in the Commons--List of those examined--Cruel circumstances of the times--Motion for the abolition of the trade--Debates--Motion lost--Resolutions of the Committee--Sierra Leone Company established CHAP. 4. Continuation from July 1791 to July 1792--Author travels again--People begin to leave off sugar--Petition Parliament--Motion renewed in the Commons--Debates--Abolition resolved upon, but not to commence till 1796--The Lords determine upon hearing evidence on the resolution--This evidence introduced--Further hearing of it postponed to the next session CHAP. 5. Continuation from July 1792 to July 1793--Author travels again--Motion to renew the Resolution of the last year in the Commons--Motion lost--New motion to abolish the foreign Slave-trade--Motion lost--Proceedings of the Lords CHAP. 6. Continuation from July 1793 to July 1794--Author travels again--Motion to abolish the foreign Slave-trade renewed and carried--but lost in the Lords--Further proceedings there--Author, on account of declining health, obliged to retire from the cause CHAP. 7. Continuation from July 1794 to July 1799--Various motions within this period CHAP. 8. Continuation from July 1799 to July 18O5--Various motions within this period CHAP. 9. Continuation from July 1805 to July 1806--Author, restored, joins the Committee again--Death of Mr. Pitt--Foreign Slave-trade abolished--Resolution to take measures for the total abolition of the trade--Address to the King to negotiate with foreign powers for their concurrence in it--Motion to prevent new vessels going into the trade--all these carried through both Houses of Parliament CHAP. 10. Continuation from July 1806 to July 1807--Death of Mr. Fox--Bill for the total abolition carried in the Lords--Sent from thence to the Commons--amended, and passed there, and sent back to the Lords--receives the royal assent--Reflections on this great event 
18683	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 18683-h.htm or 18683-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/8/6/8/18683/18683-h/18683-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/8/6/8/18683/18683-h.zip) RALPH GRANGER'S FORTUNES by WILLIAM PERRY BROWN Illustrated By W. H. Fry [Frontispiece: "Grandpa!" cried Ralph. "You shall not shoot, I say!"] Akron, Ohio The Saalfield Publishing Co. New York ---- 1902 ---- Chicago Copyright, 1902, by The Saalfield Publishing Company TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I. Ending the Feud II. Ralph and his Grandfather III. Ralph Continues his Journey IV. The Moonshiners and the Railroad V. Ralph's First Railroad Ride VI. Ralph in Columbia VII. An Enraged Photographer VIII. Captain Shard's Proposal IX. Ralph Arrives at Savannah X. The Captain Talks with Ralph XI. Aboard the Curlew XII. The Curlew Puts to Sea XIII. A Taste of Ship's Discipline XIV. Bad Weather XV. Boarded by a Cruiser XVI. Nearing the Gold Coast XVII. Up the River XVIII. A Brush in the Wilderness XIX. Left Behind XX. Ralph Stumbles on a Discovery XXI. At Close Quarters XXII. Trouble of Another Kind XXIII. Adrift XXIV. Ralph's Sufferings XXV. The Second Mate's Story XXVI. Hard Times XXVII. Uncle Gideon LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "Grandpa!" cried Ralph. "You shall not shoot, I say!" . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ "Mr. Duff," said Gary in his most grating tones, "who gave you the authority to interfere with my designs regarding this insolent youngster?" Ralph's Winchester cracked and the raised arm fell shattered and useless. "Quick, Ralph, pull me through by the arms." Ralph Granger's Fortunes. CHAPTER I. Ending the Feud. "Must I do it, grandpa?" "Of course you must! I'm afraid you ain't a true Granger, Ralph, or you wouldn't ask no such question." "But why should I do it, grandpa?" "Listen at the boy." The sharp-eyed, grizzled old man rose from his seat before the fire, and took down an ancient looking, muzzle loading rifle from over the cabin door. "I'll tell you why." He patted the gun, now lying across his knees. "This here was your father's gun. He carried it for many years. I had it when the feud betwixt the Grangers and the Vaughns first began. He had it with him when he was shot down at the Laurel Branch by John Vaughn, just six years ago today." "Today is my birthday," commented Ralph, a sturdy-limbed, ruddy-faced lad. "And you are fifteen. Think of that; 'most a man. I said I'd wait till you was fifteen, and as it happens, his son's a goin' to mill today." "What of that?" "You just wait and you'll see. All you've got to do is to obey orders." The old man got up, took down a leather shot pouch, and proceeded to load the rifle carefully. After which he slung the pouch and a powder horn round Ralph's neck, then went out and looked at the sun. He returned, placed the rifle in the lad's hands, and bade him follow. Taking their hats they went out of the house. Steep mountain ridges cut off any extended view. An old field or two lay about them, partially in the narrow creek bottom and partially climbing the last rugged slopes. There was a foot log across the little brawling brook, beyond which the public road wound deviously down the glen towards the far distant lowlands. Ralph eyed the unusually stern expression of his grandfather's face dubiously as they trudged along the road. Bras Granger was all of sixty-five years old, dried and toughened by toil, exposure, and vindictive broodings, until he resembled a cross-grained bit of time-hardened oak. His gait, though shambling, was rapid for one of his age. "You said you'd tell me why," suggested Ralph, as they wound their way along the crooked road. "Didn't I say that the son of the man as killed your father was comin' by the Laurel Branch this mornin'? Haven't the Vaughns and the Grangers been at outs for more than twenty year? What more d'ye want?" The boy frowned, but it was in perplexity rather than wrath. They came at last to a wooded hollow, through which another creek ran, thickly shaded by thick overhanging shrubbery. The old man led the way to a half decayed log of immense size, that lay behind a thick fringe of bushes, at an angle just beyond where the road crossed the creek. It was a deadly spot for an ambuscade. "Lay down behind that log," said old Granger. "Now, can you draw a good bead on him when he comes in sight?" Young Granger squinted along the rifle barrel, now resting across the log. Though apparently concealed himself, he had a fair view of the road for sixty yards in both directions. Where it entered the brook it was barely thirty feet away. "Take him right forninst the left shoulder, 'bout the time his mule crosses the creek; then your poor father'll rest easy in his grave." "Why ain't you killed him afore?" demanded Ralph. "My hand hasn't been steady these nine year; not since them Vaughns burned our house down the night your grandmother died. It was cold and snowin', and bein' out in it was more'n she could stand." "I remember," said the boy gloomily. "But that was a long time ago. I can't stay mad nine year." "I'm madder now than I was then!" almost shouted the infuriated mountaineer. "After they got your pap, I 'lowed I'd wait 'twel you was fifteen. Then you'd be big enough to know how sweet revenge is. Heap sweeter than sugar, ain't it?" "Hark?" interjected Ralph, without replying. "Some one is comin' up the road." A trample of hoofs became audible, and presently a man mounted on a mule, with a sack of corn under him, was to be seen approaching the ambuscade. Seated before him was a child of perhaps four or five, who laughed and prattled to the man's evident delight. Old Granger's eyes shown with a ferocious joy. "That's him!" he exclaimed in tremulously eager tones. "He's got his brat along. I wish ye could get 'em both, then there'd be an end of the miserable brood for one while. Wait, boy--wait 'twel he gets to the creek afore ye shoot. Think of your poor pap, when ye draw bead." But Ralph's face did not betoken any kindred enthusiasm. He was tired to death of hearing about the everlasting feud between the families. If the Vaughns had fought the Grangers, it was equally certain that the Grangers had been no whit behind in sanguinary reprisals. He remembered seeing this same Jase Vaughn, now riding unsuspectingly toward the loaded rifle, at a corn shucking once. Ralph then thought him a very jolly, amusing fellow. "Now lad--now lad!" whispered the old man. "Get down and take your sight. I've seen ye shoot the heads offn squirrels. Just imagine that feller's head is a squirrel's. As for the child----" "Grandpa, I will not shoot. It would be murder. I'll meet him fair and square, though, and if he's sorry for what his father done, I'll let it pass. He couldn't help it anyhow, if he wanted to, I reckon." To the old man's intense disgust, Ralph leaped lightly over the log and advanced into the road, rifle in hand. His grandfather followed him, raving in his futile rage. "Hello!" exclaimed Jase Vaughn, thrusting his hand behind him quickly. "Here's old Granger and his son's kid. I wish you was at home, Clelly." This last to his boy who, not at all alarmed, was smiling at Ralph in a very friendly manner. When the lad saw Jase throw back his hand, he dropped his rifle into the hollow of his left arm and brought the trigger to a half cock, advancing at the same time squarely into the middle of the road. "Grandpa tells me that you are the son of the man who shot my father, here, just six years ago," began the boy. "I knew it myself, but I didn't 'low you was to blame, 'less you uphilt him in it." "Suppose I do; what then?" Jase eyed the two Grangers steadily, though not in anger as far as Ralph could see. "Then we'll settle it right here," said the latter firmly. "I could have shot you from the bushes, as your father did mine, but I wouldn't." "The more fool you!" hissed the vindictive old man. "I ought to have kept the gun myself." "Suppose I don't uphold the deed?" added Vaughn, still totally undisturbed. "Then you can go, for all of me. I'm sick of the feud." "Shake my boy!" Jase held out a large brown paw. "So am I. If I could 'a' had my way your pap never would a been killed." Ralph hesitated an instant, when suddenly little Clelly reached forth his small, chubby fingers, and the boy surrendered. He suffered Vaughn to shake his hand, then frankly took the child's and pressed it warmly. "I like 'oo," cried the little fellow, whereat Jase gave a great horse laugh of undisguised satisfaction. "These young uns has got more sense than all of us older fools," exclaimed the gratified father. "Ain't that so, old man?" he added, looking at the elder Granger. But the face of Ralph's grandfather became convulsed with a sudden fury. He rushed upon Ralph with a celerity unlocked for in one so old, and wrenched the rifle from the boy's hands. Then he turned upon Jase Vaughn who had witnessed this action in astonishment. "Now," shouted old Granger, "reckon I'll get even for the loss of my son. Here's at ye!" "Grandpa!" cried Ralph, springing between the old man and his intended victim. "You shall not shoot, I say!" "Out of my way, you renegade," retorted the other leveling his gun. As the cap snapped, Ralph struck up the barrel, and was rewarded by a furious imprecation from the aged but relentless relative. CHAPTER II Ralph and His Grandfather. Meanwhile Jase Vaughn sat on his mule looking quietly on, as if he were entirely unconcerned in the result of the struggle between Ralph and his grandfather. Old Granger, finding himself baffled, flung down the rifle upon the ground and strode off up the road, muttering wildly to himself like one demented. "Hold on, grandpa!" shouted Ralph, picking up the gun. "I'll be with you in a minute." But the old man heeded not, and soon disappeared round a bend of the road in the direction of his home. "He's too old to change," said Jase. "But I really don't see any reason why you and me should keep up this foolishness. If my father shot yourn, thar was a cousin of your father's fought a duel with my dad 'way down in Georgy. Both on 'em were hurt so bad they never walked again." "We heard of it," returned Ralph, "and I couldn't help thinking at the time what fools our families were to keep up a feud started, I reckon, by our great grandfathers." "Right, you are, young feller. Hit all come of doggin' hogs outn a sweet tater patch; so I've heard." "Then there was a row, I reckon." "Yes. One word brought on another, till at last some one got hurt, then the shootin' begun. I never did take much to the business myself, but somehow I didn't have the energy to set the thing straight. I'm powerful glad ye done what ye have done today, and I passes you my word that Jase Vaughn has done with the feud as well as you." This time it was Ralph's turn to offer his hand. After another hearty shake little Clell threw himself upon the lad's neck with childish abandon. "I like 'oo!" he cried again. "Well, I swow!" exclaimed Jase. "He's takin' a plum likin' to you. But we must be gettin' on. If ever I can do anything for you, don't 'low my bein' a Vaughn keep you from lettin' me know." Then Jase clucked to his mule and rode away, with little Clell craning his neck to catch a last glimpse of Ralph, who, shouldering his rifle, began to retrace his steps towards home. As he proceeded his face grew grave. How would his incensed relative receive him? Since the grandmother's and his father's death Ralph and the old man had lived principally by themselves. The boy's own mother had died when he was a baby. Now and then some woman would be hired to do some house-work, usually the wife or daughter of some tenant to whom Bras Granger rented a portion of his land. But they seldom remained long, and Ralph had, perforce, to take their place from time to time. He grew as expert at cooking and other simple household duties as he was at shooting, trapping, and similar mountain accomplishments. Thus the two had lived on together, with little outside society, relying mainly on themselves for diversion as well as support. The maintenance of the feud was the old man's greatest wish. It was as meat and drink to his soul. When Ralph showed the indifference he often felt on that subject, his grandfather always flew into a rage. "To think that my only living descendant should go back on the family, is too much to bear," he said. "There's only nephews and cousins 'sides you, Ralph. They are scattered here and yonder; they ain't a carin' much about the family honor. Hit all depends on you, boy. I wonder your pap's ghost ain't a haantin' you for bein' so careless." Then Ralph would vaguely promise to do better, and the subject would be dropped, only to crop up again whenever the old man felt more savagely inclined than usual. Today, however, was the first time that the two had come to an open and violent rupture. When the boy came in sight of the cabin he beheld his grandparent seated in the doorway absorbed, apparently in deep reflection. Ralph crossed the foot log, opened the gate and walked up to the door. "I am sorry I displeased you today," he began, "but I just couldn't do what you wanted me to do----" "Shet your mouth!" interrupted Granger harshly. "You are a disgrace to your kin. I never would a believed it if my eyes hadn't a seen and my ears a heard. You are no longer a grandson of mine. D'ye hear?" Ralph's perplexed and distressed look seemed to again infuriate the old man. "Pack up your traps and get outn here!" he raged, brandishing his walking stick. "My house is no longer a home for such as you." "Wh--where shall I go?" asked Ralph, still dazed over this astounding outcome of the Vaughn incident. "Mebbe you'd better go over to Jase Vaughn's," sneered old Granger. "His father killed yourn, but you don't care for such a little thing as that." "Grandpa," cried Ralph, stung to indignation at last, "it is cruel of you to treat me so, simply because I wouldn't commit murder. Yes--murder. I say it would have been murder! I'm no coward; and it is cowardly to shoot down a man and him not knowing." "You reprobate!" gasped the obdurate old mountaineer. "I've a notion to thrash you--right here." He again shook his cane and glared his hatred of Ralph's conduct. But the boy only said: "I'd rather you beat me than do what I always would be miserable over. Let's drop it, grandpa." He passed into the cabin and observed a small pile of clothing on the floor. "There's your duds, boy," said Bras Granger grimly. "Pick 'em up and pull your freight outn here." Ralph surveyed the old man curiously; but as he noted the latter's stern, unyielding aspect he said no more until he had rolled up a clean shirt and a pair of socks. A tear or two fell as he tied the bundle in a large handkerchief. "Am I to take the gun?" asked he, gulping down his emotion as best he could. "No!" almost shouted the old man. "What business you got with a gun? Come now; are you ready?" Ralph nodded; his heart was too full to speak. The old man stood aside and pointed to the door. Ralph held out his hand. "Good by," he managed to falter forth. "May God forgive you for turnin' me out this day." He passed through the yard, feeling for the gate, for his eyes were dim with moisture. Crossing the foot log, he walked on until he came to a rise of ground just where the road made a sudden turn. Then he wheeled, dashed the tears away, and took a last look at the place where he was born and had always lived. Shut in by wild and rugged mountains, far from the world's great life, humble and homely, it was still the only place on earth where the orphaned lad had felt that he had any natural right to be. And now, even this slender thread had been rudely severed by his nearest living relative. "Good-by, old home," said he audibly, as he waved his hand in a farewell gesture. "I hate to leave you when it comes to the pinch, but if I live I'll make my way somewhere's else. There's other places beside these mountains where a boy can get on, I know." He resumed his way, forcing back the tears, and soon found his emotions subside. A conviction that he had acted right throughout the altercation with old Bras, helped him to bear more cheerfully the hard fact that he was not only homeless but almost moneyless. This last misfortune did not press on him heavily, as in that secluded region people were universally hospitable. Ralph had never paid for a meal or a night's lodging in his life. As he happened to take an easterly course he kept it merely because it would lead him to the lowlands and the towns as quickly as any other route. He had at once resolved to leave his native mountains. Inexperienced as he was, he instinctively felt that there were better things in store for an energetic lad in other parts of the country than he would be apt to find anywhere near his home. He struck a lively pace and had walked nearly a mile, with his bundle under his arm, when he met Jase Vaughn returning from the mill. "Hello, youngster!" quoth that worthy man as cordially as if Ralph and himself had been warm friends all along. "Where you carryin' yourself to? Old man got in good humor yet?" "He has turned me out, lock, stock, and barrel," replied the boy, swallowing his pride in this humiliating confession. "W-h-a-a-t?" ejaculated Jase thoroughly amazed, while Clell smiled at Ralph in a most amiable manner. "Grandpa was so provoked because I declined to obey him," said Ralph, "that he told me to pack up and get out." "For good and all?" "Yes, for good. At least I sh'an't go back any more--unless--he was to send for me." "Bully for you! I wouldn't either. Give you the shake 'cause you wouldn't let him put a bullet hole through me! Well, I swow!" Jase stared at Ralph in mingled admiration and compassion. "The dadburned old fool!" he continued. "'Scuse me, Ralph, no reflections on your fambly, but hit kind o' teches my feelin's to see you fired in this shape, long o' your actin' the gentleman with me. Where be you goin'?" "Somewhere's down below; I don't know exactly where." "Got any money?" "A little. I'm going to hunt work; then I'll soon make more. I sha'n't stay in the mountains." Jase drew forth a greasy leather wallet and extracted a five dollar bill, which he eyed reflectively as if forcing himself to make up his mind, then suddenly handed it to Ralph, who thanked him but shook his head. "Dang it! Let me loan it to you then. Didn't you as good as save my life? Look, Clell wants you to take it, don't you, Clell?" The little fellow laughed, seized the bill from his father's hand, and tossed it towards Ralph, saying: "Take it; take it. I like 'oo, Walph." Ralph felt another rising in his throat as he stooped to pick up the note; but he could not bring himself to the point of accepting so great a favor from one of the Vaughns. "I--I really don't need it," said he. "Hold on! Jase! Do hold up a minute." "Can't, old feller," called back Jase, who had suddenly spurred his mule into a trot when he saw the note in Ralph's hand. "Pay me when you get back, if you'd rather." "But I say! I can't keep this money----" "Good by," came floating back on the breeze. "I don't know nothin' 'bout no money. Take good care of yourself." Then Jase, boy, and mule, whipped round a crook of the road and were seen no more. Ralph's first impulse was to throw the bill away. But sober second thoughts prevailed, and somewhat reluctantly he placed it with the rest of his slender stock of cash. "Jase means well," thought he, resuming his tramp. "I don't know that either of us are to blame 'cause our families have been at outs for so long. When I get to making something I'll send it back." All that day Ralph trudged manfully on. At times grief would be uppermost in his heart when he thought of the way in which his grandfather had treated him. Once, as he passed a cabin where a boy of about his own age stood washing his hands on the porch, and he caught a glimpse of a cheerful interior, with dinner smoking on the table, he felt very homesick. He wished he was back, preparing his grandpa's noonday meal. As he did not feel hungry he did not stop anywhere until about sunset, when he walked up to a double penned house that looked roomy and hospitable. Several dogs ran out barking. "Here, you Boss! Git out'n thar, Louder! Pick up a stick and frail the nation outn 'em, boy." A tall, shock headed, awkward man had come onto the porch and was making these remarks with great vigor but entire good nature. The dogs subsided, and Ralph ran lightly up the steps. "Come in. Take a chair by the fire. What mought your name be these hard times?" "I'm Ralph Granger, from over about Hiawassee Gap." "Son of old Bras?" Ralph assented, when the shock headed man called to his wife, who was sifting meal for the supper: "Tildy this must be one of your kin folks." Then, turning to Ralph, "My wife was a Granger; one of the Gregory branch. Well, tell us all about yourself. Don't mind the children, they always are in the way, anyhow." Ralph, finding that he was among friends, related briefly the events of the day and wound up by again expressing his detestation of the feud. Mr. Dopples, for that was the shock headed man's name, nodded approval. "We mountain folks live too much outn the world," said he. "What you goin' to do?" "Anything honest, to make a living. I'm not going to stay in these parts though." "If you've any notion of goin' down about Columbia, I can direct you to a friend of mine as lives there. Comes up here every summer to fish and hunt. Got lots of coin, and is always wantin' me to go down there and take a regular town spree with him. Oh he's a sight!" "What is his name? I don't suppose he would care anything about me. He never heard of me, anyhow." "Name is Captain Shard; he keeps a big livery stable. You just tell him you're a friend of mine, and I'll bet my steers agin a coon skin you're at home straight." Soon after supper Ralph was shown to his bed in a shed room at the rear of the house. In the mountains the people go to bed and rise early from habit. Before eight o'clock a sound of heavy breathing could be heard from every room. Under the floor the very dogs were steeped in dreams of coon and 'possum hunting. Suddenly Ralph awoke, feeling a pressure on his chest. The room was not so dark but that he could detect a shadowy figure at the bedside. A prickly chill ran through his veins, but before he could speak, a voice whispered: "Give me your hand," and as the boy dazely obeyed, the pressure on his chest was removed as another hand was lifted from there, that firmly grasped his own. "I can feel your pulse jump; you're skeered, Ralph." "Wh--who are--you?" faltered Ralph, unable to make out as yet whether it was a "haant" or a living person that had awakened him thus. "Don't know me?" There was a titter of nearly noiseless laughter. "Felt me pressin' your chist, didn't you?" "Yes. At first I thought I must be stiflin', but----" "If you want to wake a person 'thout speakin', you press on their chist. Hit always fetches 'em. Don't you know me yet?" Ralph murmured a low negative. "Well, then, I'll tell you I'm----" A sound of feet striking the floor heavily was heard from one of the other rooms, and was followed by the voice of Mr. Dopples, calling out: "Tildy! Oh, Tildy! Where be ye, Tildy?" CHAPTER III. Ralph Continues His Journey. The form at Ralph's bedside grasped his hand again in a warning pressure. "Keep quiet," it said. "I'm your Aunt Tildy. I have something to say to you by and by." The figure vanished, and presently the lad heard his aunt say: "What are you fussin' about, Mr. Dopples? Can't a body stir 'thout you havin' a fit?" "I only wanted to know where ye were," was the shock headed man's reply. "What are ye progin' round this time o' night for?" "Cause I want to. Now shet up and go to sleep." While Ralph was wondering what on earth his aunt, whom he had never seen before, could want to say to him at such an hour, the talking in the other room died away, and was succeeded soon by a resonant snoring, that denoted Mr. Dopples' prompt obedience to his wife's last command. Shortly thereafter she swept softly into the boy's room, wrapped in a shawl and seated herself at his side. "Are you awake?" she said in a whisper. Ralph said, "Yes;" and propped himself in a listening attitude. "You think strange, I reckon, at my comin' to you in this way," she began. "You've never seen and hardly ever heard of us before. But when I learned the way your grandpap have treated you, I felt sorry, and I want to help you what little I can." "I'm mightily obliged, aunt," replied Ralph, still puzzled how to connect this friendly wish with the object of such a visit as she was making tonight. "Hit was a brother of mine as fought that fight with John Vaughn. I used to believe in the feud, but I don't now. It's a wicked thing to seek people's lives. Both sides have suffered enough, Ralph, and I say let there be peace." "Amen," muttered the lad heartily. "But what I wanted to let you know was about this Captain Shard, as Dopples wants you to go and see. My man never quarrels with nobody--bless his old soul! Therefore, he never 'spicious that any of his friends would want to, either. There's where he is wrong." "Yes; but I don't see how that can apply to Captain Shard, whom I never heard of before." "I know you don't, but I do. Captain Shard's mother was a Vaughn. Now, do you see?" "Good gracious! But it seems to me as if that don't amount to much. Why should this man want to hurt me?" "Hold on. This man Shard's mother was sister to the Vaughn who killed your father, and whom my brother had fought on account of it. Don't you see? When Shard learns who you are, his Vaughn blood is more than apt to prompt him to do you some harm." "They don't shoot people in the town the way we do in the mountains, aunt. I've read that the law is too strong for that." "There's other ways of hurtin' a poor boy 'sides takin' a gun to him. If he chose, he might harm you in other ways. I've heard it said that folks with plenty of money can do 'most anything in the city." "Well, aunt, I'm much obliged to you for letting me know. If I strike Columbia, and meet up with Captain Shard, I shall certainly remember what you say." "Good night, then. Don't tell Dopples what I've said. He's a thinkin' the world of Shard. I like him, too; but then he don't know I'm a Granger, I reckon." After Mrs. Dopples retired, Ralph soon fell asleep. When he wakened again daylight was at hand, and Mr. Dopples was kindling a fire. Breakfast came early, then Ralph bade his kindly friends farewell, and resumed his journey as the sun was peeping over the easterly summits of the Blue Ridge. "Don't forget to see Shard," called the shock headed man, as the boy reached the public road. "He'll help you out." "I may see Shard," thought Ralph; "but I'll be careful how he sees me. I'm going to get out of the range of this feud if I have to travel clear to the seacoast." As he had a lunch along--given him by Mrs. Dopples--he did not stop anywhere for dinner, but trudged resolutely on at a three mile an hour gait. His young limbs, hardened by constant mountain climbing, did not tire readily, while his experience of traveling enabled him to keep the general course he wished to go, notwithstanding the branch trails and the many windings caused by the ruggedness of the country. The latter portion of the afternoon was occupied in climbing a long mountain range that overtopped most of the others in sight. The sun was nearly setting as he reached the summit; then he uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Behind him was a confused jumble of peaks and ridges as far as the eye could reach. It was the region he had left--his own native wilds. Before him stretched an undulating panorama of plain, valley, and gentle hills. There were patches of woodland, great plantations with here and there variegated spots that Ralph supposed to be villages. It was his first view of the level country beyond the Blue Ridge, and he surveyed it with intense interest. "They say it stretches that way clear to the seacoast," he said to himself as he began to descend the mountain. "I don't see how they can see any distance with no big ridges to look off from." This idea--otherwise laughable--was perfectly natural to a lad who had never seen anything but wild and rugged mountains in his life. He quickened his pace, wishing to get down into the region of farms and houses before darkness should come. A rising cloud in the southeast also occasioned him some concern. "Looks mighty like there might be rain in that cloud," he thought. "I've got matches, but I'd hate to have to spend a wet night out in these woods." The gun went down and the black south-easterly haze came up, with semi-tropical celerity. Ralph was still in the lonely region of forest and crag, when a whirl of wind struck him in the face and a few drops spattered on the leaves of the chestnuts around. The brief southern twilight was blotted out almost at once by the overspreading clouds, and young Granger became conscious that he had somehow missed the trail. "That is odd," he muttered. "It was just here a minute ago." Something like a yellow gleam caught his eye, and he plunged along in its course in a reckless manner, for he was nervous with anxiety. Being in a strange region, with a storm on the point of breaking, was not pleasant even to older nerves, when added to the natural terrors of a night in the woods, without any other company than one's brooding thoughts. "Hello! What's this?" he exclaimed as he almost ran against an obstruction that looked not unlike a steep house roof. The odor of tar and resin pervaded the air. Ralph groped his way around it, feeling here and there with his hands. "It's a tar kiln, sure as preaching!" ejaculated he, at length. "There ought to be some kind of a shack about, looks like." He was still searching, when the wind, which had been increasing, brought with it a sudden downpour of rain. Ralph was about to rush for a tree to shelter himself, when a flash of lightning lighted up the kiln and surrounding objects with a pale, brief glare. "Ha--there she is!" exclaimed Ralph, discovering the object of his search. "I almost knew the man as put up this kiln must have had a shelter of some kind." He made his way to a low, brush covered frame near by, arriving there just in time. The darkness was intense, except when cloven by the lightning, while the fall of rain was drenching and furious. The shack leaked some, but it was an immense improvement over a tree for shelter. "Let's see where we are, anyhow," said Ralph, producing some matches, one of which he struck. "Hello! There are some pine knots. Here's luck at last." In a few minutes he had a small fire blazing brightly, and felt more like contemplating his surroundings with cheerful equanimity. But as the rain increased, the leaks grew in number, threatening to put out the fire, and converting the earth floor into a mushy mud puddle. "I can't do any sleeping here," thought he. "Might just as well make up my mind for a night of it round this fire." By dint of careful watching he kept his fire from going entirely out, and managed to keep himself dry by picking out the spots where the leaks were fewest in which to stand. But it was a dreary, lonesome time. The wind whistled dolefully through the pines, and the rain splashed unmercifully upon the bark and boughs of the shack. After each flash of lightning, sharp peals of thunder added their harsh echoes, until Ralph's ears ached, used as he was to mountain storms. The rain began to slacken in an hour, while the wind gradually dwindled to a light breeze. Still there was no chance to lie down, and the boy was growing sleepy. He had drooped his head between his knees as he sat on a pine block, and was dropping into a doze when he heard something stirring at the back of the shanty. He looked around in a drowsy way, but seeing nothing, he again fell into an uneasy slumber. How long his nap lasted he did not know, but all at once he nodded violently and awoke. The fire was low. Then a muffled rattling noise at his feet sent the blood in a furious leap to his pulses. He threw on a rich knot, and as it blazed up his eye fell on an object that caused him to spring up as if he had been stung. "Great Caesar!" he exclaimed, and as the rattle sounded once more, he made a long leap for the doorway. "That was a narrow escape. S'pose I hadn't a woke up?" Then he shuddered, but recovering, hunted up a cudgel and cautiously returned within the hut. There, within a few inches of where the lad's feet had rested as he slept, was a large rattlesnake still in its coil and giving forth its ominous rattle. A dexterous blow or two finished the reptile, but the odor given forth by the creature in its anger filled the hut. "Pah!" ejaculated Ralph. "I must get out of here. The place would sicken a dog." He returned to the open air, now freshened by the vanished rain, and round to his delight, that a moon several days old was visible in the west. The clouds had disappeared, and there seemed every prospect of a clear and quiet night. "It is light enough to see to travel if I can only find the road again," he reflected. "Anything is better than staying here." Taking the direction in which it seemed to him that the trail ought to be, he sought eagerly for the narrow strip of white that would indicate the wished for goal. Presently he heard a distant sound. "It may be the deer a whistling," thought he, listening intently. "But, no; that ain't made by no deer. I believe--it's--somebody a coming along." Some distance to his left Ralph could now detect a connected sound as if a tune were being whistled. In his eager desire for human companionship, he cast prudence completely aside and ran forward shouting: "Hold on! I'm coming. Hold on till I get there!" CHAPTER IV. The Moonshiners and the Railroad. The whistling stopped suddenly. Ralph kept on, however, in the direction where he had last heard the sounds, and presently distinguished two dim forms standing in an open space amid the trees, through which ran the white thread that indicated the lost trail. "I say," began the lad, "are you fellows going down the mountain? If you are, I'd like to go with you. Fact is, I believe I'm lost." "Halt, there, young feller!" was the reply, given in sharp, stern tones. "One step further and you'll find half an ounce of lead under your skin, mebbe." Ralph obeyed, somewhat puzzled and decidedly alarmed. The men--there were two of them--drew something over their faces, then ordered the boy to advance. He did so, and on drawing near saw that they now wore masks, and had long sacks swung over their shoulders, with a load of some kind in either end. When he saw the masks and the bags Ralph understood at once what their business was. "Who are you?" demanded one of the men, and the lad could see that he held a pistol in one hand. "No lyin', now!" "My name is Granger, and I'm from over on Hiawassee River way. Want to get down into the low country. Got lost; stayed in a shack while it rained, and--here I am." "Be you a son of old Bras Granger?" "No; grandson." The two whispered together a moment, then one of them said: "I reckon you're all right, boy. 'Taint wuth while to ast our names, 'cause d'ye see--we wouldn't tell." "You'd be fools if you did," returned Ralph, his self confidence now fully restored. "I ain't a wanting to know who you are. I know already what you are." "How's that?" came sharply back, and an ominous click was heard, which, however, did not seem to alarm Ralph. "Moonshiners," said the boy briefly. "Haven't I been raised among 'em? I've got kin folks as stills regular, I'm sorry to say." "Sorry! Ain't it a good trade?" "Not when it lands you inside of some dirty jail. Besides, I don't like the stuff, anyhow." "No use to offer you a dram then?" "Not a bit. But I say, if you'll let me go on with you till we get down where there's some houses, I'll think more of that than if you gave me a barrel of whisky." "We're on our way back. We're goin' up the mountain. But you foller this trail for about a mile, then take the first right hand turn. Follow that 'twel you come to an old field. T'other side of that you'll find the mud pike as runs to Hendersonville. After that you'll find houses thick enough. But where are you bound for after you get down there?" "Oh, anywhere most. I'm after work." Ralph concluded that he had better not be more explicit with strangers. The moonshiners soon grew quite friendly and seemed a little hurt over Ralph's persistence in declining a drink. "I'm going out among strangers," he said, "and I've got to keep my head. The best way to do that is to let the stuff entirely alone. Well, so long, men. I'm mighty glad I met up with you." He struck out down the trail whistling merrily. Now that he was on the right road again, and with a clear night before him, he felt far more cheerful than before. He found the old field without difficulty, and not far beyond he struck the Hendersonville pike as the moonshiner had intimated. Here the country was more open. Large fields, interspersed with patches of woodland, were on either hand. Now and then he would pass a cabin, his approach being heralded by the barking of dogs. Once or twice large buildings came into view. These were the residences of the more wealthy class of planters. Even in the dim starlight, Ralph saw that they were larger than the log dwellings he was accustomed to. Finally the moon went down. He would have stopped at some house and asked for shelter, but the hour was so late that he shrank from disturbing strangers. The night was not uncomfortably cool and he was getting further on. Roosters began to crow. A few clouds glided athwart some of the brightest stars and he found difficulty in traveling. Just beyond some buildings he stumbled over something hard and immovable. As he picked himself up, his hand came in contact with cold steel. Peering closely he saw two long lines running parallel as far as he could distinguish on either hand. He found that they were of iron or steel and rested on wooden supporters, half buried in the earth. "Dinged if this ain't queer!" he thought. "Let me see. I wonder if this ain't one of them railroads I've heard folks tell about. They say it'll carry you as far in one hour as a man'll walk all day." Pondering over this, to him, puzzling celerity of motion, he groped his way along the track to where it broadened out into a switch. "Reckon this one must run somewhere else," thought Ralph, when he suddenly detected a large dark object ahead. "What's that, I wonder. Guess I'll look into that. Seeing I'm getting into a strange country it won't do to be too careless." Going slowly forward, he walked completely round the unknown affair, which he ascertained was on wheels that rested on the iron tracks. "This must be one of their wagons they ride so fast in," said the boy to himself. "Hello! The door is open." It was an ordinary box car on a siding, the sliding door of which was partially open. As Ralph strove to peer within, he detected the sound of measured breathing. "Some one is in there," he decided, and drew back cautiously. The darkness had increased greatly and there seemed to be signs of another rain coming up. No other place of shelter was in the immediate neighborhood that he could discern. He thrust his head into the car and felt with his hands. Nothing could he see, nor did he feel aught but the flooring of the car. While he debated as to what he should do, the rain began again. "Gracious!" he exclaimed, "I don't like to go into another man's ranch like this, but blamed if I am going to get wet, with a shelter within two feet of me." He clambered inside and sat with his back against the wall, intending to get out again after the shower should pass. But the shower did not pass on. Instead it settled into a steady drizzle. When the rain began to beat inside he drew the door nearly shut. The measured breathing came from one end of the car. There seemed to be but one occupant besides Ralph. As the time passed, the lad grew drowsy. Inured though he was to an active life, the walking he had done had fatigued him greatly. Now, as he sat resting, waiting for the rain to cease, a natural drowsiness asserted itself with a potency that would not be denied. As he nodded he awakened himself several times by a violent jerk of the head, but at last slumber prevailed entirely, and Ralph was sleeping as soundly as the other unknown occupant of the car. The unusual events of the last two days had kept his fancies at an abnormal stretch. It was natural, therefore, for him to begin dreaming. It seemed as if he were going back instead of leaving his home. Every one he met looked at him compassionately. Finally he saw Jase Vaughn, and remembered that he owed Jase five dollars. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out--a rattlesnake. Even this did not waken him, though he thought he was back at the shack by the tar kiln. The ground seemed to be covered with snakes. He ran ever so far, then all at once he was with Jase just as if he had been with him all the time. "I haven't got no money," he said sorrowfully. "Never mind," replied Vaughn. "You run home. Poor fellow; I'm sorry for you." Much perplexed, he kept on until he stood before his grandfather's cabin. He thought his Aunt Dopples was there, with her eyes red with weeping. "Go in; go in," she urged, pushing him through the doorway. "He's been waiting for you till he's about give out." Ralph dreamed that the first thing he saw was his grandfather propped up in bed, with a ghastly pallor on his face. When he beheld his truant grandson, the scowl upon his brow deepened, and he shook a warning finger. "Wretched boy!" hissed the old man, while Ralph cowered like one in the presence of a ghost, "you are no Granger. There never was a Granger that acted the coward. You are a Vaughn--a Vaughn--a Vaughn!" The old man's tone towards the last rose into such a wild, weird shriek, that Ralph's blood ran cold. He attempted to speak with a tongue so tied by fear that words would not come. Under the agony of effort he screamed aloud, then suddenly awoke. "Here! Here! Wake up, I say!" These words, uttered shrilly in his ear, staggered his senses as he opened his eyes and looked up. CHAPTER V. Ralph's First Railroad Ride. A slender, thin faced, alert looking man was stooping over the boy, and shaking him vigorously. Day had dawned. "Wake up, young fellow!" continued the stranger, as Ralph gazed at him in a dazed sort of way. "How came you in here?" "I--I got in out of the rain," said Ralph, staggering to his feet, only to be thrown down again by the jolting of the car, which was in rapid motion. The sliding door was now open. Ralph glancing out, saw the landscape slipping by at a furious rate of speed. The sight so astonished him, that he sank back again. To his unaccustomed senses it was as if the earth were turning upside down. "What's the matter with you? Drunk?" "No!" almost shouted the boy, suddenly indignant. "I never took a drink in my life. Neither was I ever on such a--a wagon as this before. Lordy! How fast we're going!" The man roared with laughter. "Well, you are a curiosity. Where did you come from? Out of the woods?" "I'm from the mountains. Never was out of them before. Isn't there no danger in going so fast? My! How my head swims when I look out!" "Not a bit of danger, unless in case of a collision, or when something gives way. But come! Give me an account of yourself. When I find an uninvited stranger aboard my private car, I ought to know something about him, I reckon." While Ralph gave a brief account of himself and his affairs--omitting the feud, however--his eyes rested first on one strange object, then another. There was a large pile of canvas at one end of the car, neatly folded. Several tent poles lay along the floor. A large and a small camera, resting on tripods, especially puzzled the boy. There were also several chests and a trunk or two. At the other end of the car there was a cot bedstead with mattress and bedding, a chair or two, a small table, an oil cooking stove, together with other household paraphernalia. The whole outfit was simple, yet complete, and did not take up much room. "Well," said the man, as Ralph concluded his statement, "you seem to be an honest and a plucky lad, though an almighty green one, I guess. Never been anywhere, you say?" "I've hunted for miles in the mountains, and I've been to a store or two, and to meeting, and to the 'lections. Yes, and I've been to school three months a year ever since I was so high," Ralph indicated the height with his hand. "But grandpa would never let me go off any very great distance from home." "So you finally took matters into your own hands and gave him leg bail. Well, that ain't bad. But you mustn't go about breaking into people's houses and cars as you did last night. It isn't safe." "I was lost, and it began to rain. I didn't mean no harm. I can pay my way." He drew forth some money, under a dim idea that he had heard some one say once, that below the mountains, folks made people pay for about everything they got. "Keep your cash, my boy," said the man evidently having a better idea of Ralph than at first. "Hold to all you've got. People are not as free with their grub and beds down here as they are up in your country. By the way, what's your name?" "Ralph Granger. What might be yours?" "Mine? Oh, my name is Quigg--Lemuel Quigg. I am a traveling photographer." "What is that?" "Did I ever see such ignorance! Ralph, you are a curiosity. I take pictures for a living. Usually I go by wagon. But I am bound for the seacoast, so I hired this car to take me right through." "There was a fellow up in our parts once as took pictures for two bits apiece." "Like these?" Mr. Quigg threw open one lid of a trunk, disclosing a velvet lined show case filled with photographs of different sizes. They would now be considered antiquated affairs, but to Ralph the life-like attitudes and looks of the sitters seemed wonderful. "Gracious, no!" he exclaimed. "That fellow only took little tintypes, as we folks call them. These beat anything I ever saw." "Well, suppose we get breakfast," said Quigg, turning to his oil stove. "We'll be in Hendersonville in an hour. Can you cook?" Ralph staggered to the stove, and took a puzzled look. "I've cooked on a fireplace all my life, more or less. But I don't think much of that thing." "Don't, eh? Well, well! You'll do for a dime museum, you will. Go and sit down, and watch me." Ralph took a seat near the door, and divided his time between Mr. Quigg's culinary operations and the swiftly moving panorama outside. The dizzy, yet smooth, motion of the car, the--to him--miraculous speed, the whirl and shimmer of the landscape--all this fascinated him after his first nervousness wore off. The artist, however, recalled him from this sort of day dreaming, by saying: "Ever make biscuit?" "We eat corn pones mostly at home." "Well, you can fry some bacon and eggs, I guess." He gave the boy a small frying pan, showed him where to place it, then lighted his lamp. "That beats pine knots, don't it?" he asked, while Ralph noted with a new wonder the ease and rapidity with which Mr. Quigg managed everything. While the meat and eggs were frying, the artist made coffee, thrust some potatoes into the oven beside the biscuit, then completed his morning toilet over a tin basin and a hand mirror. "Better take a wash and a brush," said he to Ralph. "I'll dish up the breakfast." So, while Mr. Quigg set the table, the lad washed his face, brushed his hair, and despite his homely looking jeans and rough brogans, presented a very sightly appearance as he sat down opposite the little photographer. At least so the latter thought, and remained in apparent deep reflection while eating. Ralph saw the white granulated sugar for the first time, and, mistaking it for salt, was about to sprinkle some on his egg. "That's a queer way to eat sugar," said Quigg, happening to notice the move. "Goes pretty good that way, though," returned Ralph, determined to martyr his palate rather than own up to any further ignorance. He was already beginning to divine the primitive nature of his native manner of life, but the consciousness of this fact only strengthened his desire to familiarize himself with these strange usages. Quigg laughed, then resumed his reverie. After the meal was over, Ralph washed the dishes, while the artist made up his bed and otherwise tidied up the car. Two window sash of unusual size attracted the lad's attention. "Those are my skylights," said Quigg. "You might polish them up a bit after we leave Hendersonville. That is, if you are going on further." Ralph had no definite idea as to where he wanted to go, except that he thought of Captain Shard. Regardless of Mrs. Dopples' warning, he now said that he had a notion of going on to Columbia. "All right," responded Quigg, who liked Ralph's appearance the more he saw of him. "Go on with me. You can help me for your keep until something better offers. I shall stay in Columbia a week, then strike for the coast. What say?" Ralph assented gladly, and thought himself lucky in being afforded so easy a chance to get forward. Presently he was rubbing away upon the skylights, while Mr. Quigg produced a cornet from somewhere among his belongings, and played sundry doleful airs with indifferent skill, until the train arrived at Hendersonville. "What do you call that brass horn?" asked Ralph. "A brass horn! Come! That's good." Quigg laughed loudly. "That is a cornet, and a good one, too! But here we are." Hendersonville, though but a moderate sized town, seemed to the mountain boy to contain all the world's wonders. Both car doors were thrown wide open, and as they had to remain on a siding until an express went by, Ralph indulged his curiosity fully. The two and three story buildings, nicely painted and standing so close together, the teams, the stores, the shouting negroes and hurrying whites, were all a startling novelty to him. "Looks like everybody is a rushin' as if he'd forgot something," he thought. "What a sight of niggers! Good Lord! What's that?" This last he uttered aloud as the express whizzed by them at a moderate rate of speed. "That's the train we were waiting for. Now we'll get on, I guess. You see, our train is a freight, and we have to make way for pretty much everything." Presently their car began to move. As they passed the depot an engine close by blew a whistle, at which the boy started. The hissing, steaming locomotive was to him the most wonderful thing of all. Truly, the mountain people lived as in another world. "I am glad I left home," said he to himself. "Grandpa would never have let me know anything. Down here there is a chance to do something and be somebody." Soon they were again whirling through a semi-level country on their way to the South Carolina line. The corn and cotton fields increased in size, the plantation houses grew larger and began to have stately lawns and groves of woodland about them. The log houses seemed to be mostly inhabited by negroes. Ralph finished his skylights, then assisted Mr. Quigg in getting dinner. The afternoon wore slowly away; then they ate a cold supper, washed down by some warm coffee. The train moved haltingly, having to wait at sidings for other trains that had the right of way. Night came, and Ralph took a blanket and lay down for a nap, having not yet "caught up with his sleep," as he said to the artist. Mr. Quigg lighted a lamp and sat down over a novel. Ralph slumbered on with his bundle for a pillow. Once, when he wakened for a moment, he saw as in a dream, the strange inside of the car with the photographer quietly reading; then he dropped off again. The next thing he was conscious of was being pulled into a sitting position, and hearing a voice in his ear calling: "Hello there! Wake up! Chickens are crowing for day!" CHAPTER VI. Ralph in Columbia. "All right, grandpa," said Ralph, mechanically sitting up, though his ideas were still mixed with his dreams. "I am not your respected grandparent," said Mr. Quigg from the stove, where he was lighting the fire, "but I'll dare say he would call you just as early." The lad laughed at himself as he sprang up and, after washing and brushing, hastened to help Mr. Quigg with his morning tasks. He happened to glance out and noticed that their car was on a siding and that numerous other tracks contained many coaches and freight cars of different kinds. A small engine was puffing up and down among them, while on every side beyond were tall buildings and vacant lots. "Where are we?" he asked. "Where you said you wanted to go--Columbia." "Looks like a dirty place," commented Ralph, having had the raw edge of his curiosity sufficiently dulled at Hendersonville to make him a little critical already. "Wait till we get out where you can see something. It's a fine town. I made a hundred dollars in a week here once." This sounded like a fortune to Ralph. "You see, one of the home artists was sick and the other one on a whiz down at Charleston, and the Legislature was in session. So I just took pictures and raked in the shekels. Here comes my dray. Shove all the dishes into that chest, Ralph. We've lots to do today." A truck driven by a negro and drawn by two mules, hitched up tandem fashion, now backed up to the open door of the car. "Hello Sam!" called out, Mr. Quigg. "Got my telegram, did you?" "Yaas, suh. Marse Thompson, he read um." "Now, give us a hand, Ralph," continued the artist. "We'll put the tent on first." The lad, having bestowed the dishes, lent willing aid in loading the dray, while Mr. Quigg superintended operations. "I guess you will have to go along with Sam," said he to Ralph. "He'll want some help at unloading. Then you must stay there and watch the things until we come with the next load." So it was that Ralph found himself presently perched high up on the dray and rattling through the streets, while Sam sat in front, guiding his team by a single rein, and a deal of vociferation. They came finally to a vacant corner lot where they began to unload. "Do you know of a man here called Captain Shard?" asked the boy, at length remembering the individual he desired to find. "Reckon I does. Bless grashus! Ain't I a wukin' fer dat same man de bigger heft er de time?" "What kind of a man is he?" "Fust rate; fust rate. Dat is if he don't hab nuttin' begainst yo'. When he do, den--look out." This rather supported the tenor of Mrs. Dopples' cautions, and Ralph paused a moment before he asked: "Where can I find him?" "Yo' membah dat big liv'ry stable on de Main Street as we come erlong?" "Where there were so many wagons and carriages around?" "Yaas, suh. Dat's him. De cap'n he own um all. Disher team 'longs ter de cap'n too. Dey some says--Hi yo! If he ain' a comin' right now! Oh, cap'n! Say yo' wanter see him, suh?" Ralph would have declined such a sudden meeting, but before he could think of any excuse, a portly, fine looking man, with flowing chin beard and dark, piercing eyes, stopped as he was sauntering by. "What is it, Sam?" he demanded, at the same time scanning Ralph casually. "Dish yer white boy, he astin' where 'bout he kin find yo', suh. I up an' tol' him, when--bless de land!--yere yo' is." Sam gathered up his reins, cracked his whip, and tore away down the street without another word. Ralph, from the divided nature of his thoughts, could think of nothing to say until the captain spoke again. "Well, what is it you want of me--a--what is your name?" "Ralph Granger," blurted forth the boy, then was sorry he had committed himself. Captain Shard glanced sharply at Ralph's coarsely clad figure, and noticed the home made texture of his clothes. "Granger--Granger," he muttered as if to himself. "From the mountains, ain't you?" he added quickly. Ralph was so unaccustomed to lying that he said "Yes," notwithstanding the prickings occasioned by what Aunt Dopples had said. "Who sent you to me?" "A man by the name of Dopples, who married one of my kin folks." "Tildy Dopples a relative of yours?" The captain appeared surprised. Ralph, feeling that he was in for it, boldly told who and what he was, omitting any allusion to the feud, however. As he continued, the captain, who had been pondering as he listened, suddenly scowled. "Was your father's name Ralph, too?" asked he, and when the boy nodded affirmatively, added: "And was his father's name Bras Granger?" "Yes," replied Ralph. "I lived with him after--after----" he hesitated, conscious of speaking too frankly. "After a Vaughn killed him!" interposed the captain with emphasis, then added: "Did you know my mother was a Vaughn, boy? And that a brother of hers was killed in a duel by a cousin of your father's?" "So--I have--heard," faltered Ralph, feeling that he was by no means beyond the reach of that wretched feud yet. "Finally, did you know that this brother of my mother was the man who shot your father?" "I--never knew until Aunt Dopples told me. I call her aunt." "Yet, knowing this, they sent you to me. I like Dopples; would do nearly anything for him I could. His wife was always rather distant. If she is a Granger that accounts for it." "She told me you might not like me if you knew who I was, but I--I am so sick of that useless old feud, that I thought you might not remember it against me. Down here it seems as if you have too much else to think of to be always wanting to shoot somebody." "Right you are, my boy." Captain Shard now shook Ralph's hand cordially, though his eye held a rather sinister gleam. "What is the use of forever brooding over old scores? Come round and see me. Perhaps I can put you in the way of earning a living." The captain patted Ralph on the shoulder, started off, but called back: "If my uncle and your great uncle made fools of themselves by carving each other up, that is no reason you and I should keep up the folly. We are not in the mountains now--thank goodness!" Though much relieved at Shard's apparently amicable way of taking things, Ralph was not altogether comfortable. "It was a close pull," he thought. "Suppose he had got mad when he pumped out of me who I was? If Mr. Quigg goes on to the coast, I'll stick by him. I'm going to get away from that old feud, if I have to go to Jericho." As he arrived at this vague geographical decision, he beheld Sam approaching with a second load. While they were unloading, Mr. Quigg came up on foot. He soon paid the darky off, then took a survey of their surroundings. "This is not a bad stand for a day or two," said he to Ralph. "We'll put up the tent first; then, while I fix up things inside, you can go about and stick up some posters. I'll put a few ads. in the newspapers and, there you are--see?" Ralph did not see except dimly, yet he assented readily and began to feel quite an interest in his new occupation already. The tent was soon stretched and the large skylight adjusted. Some of the idlers who are always present at any outdoor proceedings in town, lent a hand now and then, being rewarded with a few nickels by the artist. "Now, Ralph," said Mr. Quigg, after the trunks and other movables had been taken inside, "do you know what a poster is?" Without waiting for a reply, he lifted from a chest a pile of gaily colored placards describing in florid style and with gorgeous illustrations, the unrivaled perfections of Lemuel Quigg as an artist, the cheapness of his prices, &c., &c. "What do you think of these?" asked Quigg holding up one of the largest. "Won't they take the town?" "It says you are one of the best artists in the world," said Ralph, scanning the poster gravely. "Are you?" "Why of course I am!" Here Mr. Quigg stared at Ralph a moment, then smiled and winked knowingly. "You have to say those things, or people will not think anything of you--see?" "Whether it is so or not?" "To be sure. You must blow your own horn, my boy, if you want to get on. Humbug 'em right and left, if you look to see the scads come in fast." "I wouldn't lie just to make a little money," said Ralph so earnestly that the artist broke into a laugh. "You're in training for an angel, you are. Look out you don't starve though, before your wings sprout. But--let's get to work." The artist selected a number of posters which he hung over a short stick, to each end of which was attached a leather strap. This he slung around Ralph's shoulder, after the manner of a professional bill sticker. Then placing in his hand a bucket of paste, which he had prepared that morning in the car, together with a brush, he inquired: "Think you can find your way round town without getting lost?" Ralph was not certain, but said he would try. "If you get lost, just inquire your way to Main and Third Streets. That's here. Now come on, and I will show you how to stick bills. Don't take long to learn this trade." Ralph followed Mr. Quigg to a vacant wall near by, where he took a large poster, held it flat against the wall with one hand, gave a dexterous swipe or two with the brush, reversed it, then with a few more flourishes drew back and surveyed his work triumphantly. "Try a small one over yonder," he said to the boy. Ralph obeyed instructions in an awkward, though passable manner, whereat the artist looked his approval. "You'll do, I guess. Be careful about the corners. If a corner doubles on you, you're in trouble. I'll fasten up, and run round to the newspapers with a few ads. then finish fixing up. Look sharp; don't get lost, and be back as soon as you can." Ralph took his way down Main Street, feeling, as he expressed it, a good deal like a duck out of water. Presently he stopped at a high board fence and stuck a couple of bills without much trouble. Quigg had not instructed him where and where not to place the posters, and he was pasting a large one against the front of a closed warehouse, when some one at a near by corner called out: "Hey, there! Yo' white boy, there! What are yo' up to?" CHAPTER VII. An Enraged Photographer. Ralph continued his work, thinking some one else was referred to, when he was seized by the shoulder and jerked rudely around. His mountain blood was aflame in an instant, and seeing only that his assailant was a negro boy but little larger than himself, he let drive with his fist and sent the other staggering against the wall. "Gret king!" exclaimed the darky, rubbing his ear, which had received the blow, "What yo' do dat for, anyhow?" "To teach folks to mind their own business," replied Ralph, turning to his half stuck poster again. "P'lice have you, when yo' stick dat up dar. Disher's private proputty." "Can't I stick these wherever I want to?" asked Ralph, in surprise. "Cou'se not. Better tear dat one down." Ralph hesitated, then deeming that in his ignorance of city life, he had better be prudent, he removed the offending poster, then turned to the negro, who still stood angrily looking on. "I'm sorry I hit you," said Ralph. "You see, you took hold of me pretty rough and I--ain't used to it exactly." At this apology the colored lad grinned, then explained in his own terse way that only certain places were set aside for bill sticking. even these were rented out to regular bill posters who paid the city for the privilege of using them. Ralph listened in astonishment. "Then I ain't really got a right to stick my bills anywhere, have I?" The darkey was not certain, but inclined to the belief that such was the case, unless Ralph had arranged matters with those who rented these privileges. "Well, I'm much obliged for telling me," returned Ralph, picking up his bucket of paste. "You are a good fellow, and I say again I'm sorry I hit you." He walked slowly away, hardly knowing what to do. Soon a feeling of indignation took possession of him as he considered the peril to which Quigg had exposed him. "He's used to towns and he must know it all. However, I'll ask this man in blue. I reckon he must be one of them police that darky spoke about." The big officer halted as Ralph began to question him concerning the rights of bill stickers generally and his own in particular. "Have ye any license?" demanded the policeman gruffly. "How many bills have you put up?" "I don't know what you mean by a license," said Ralph, whose only idea regarding licenses was that they were something "to get married with." "Ye don't! Who's your boss?" Ralph explained as best he could Mr. Quigg's occupation and whereabouts, and also intimated that he had posted probably half a dozen bills. "Come with me, then," said the officer. "We'll look into this." He took Ralph by the arm and marched him back to the corner of Third and Main Streets, followed by an increasing retinue of street Arabs, both white and black. When Mr. Quigg saw the officer he shook his fist at Ralph. "Couldn't you keep yourself out of trouble?" he demanded. "Why didn't you tell me that the walls were not free?" retorted Ralph. "I was told I had no right to post bills anywhere, and this man says I ought to have a license." The artist assumed an air of injured innocence. "Didn't I tell you to go straight to the city hall and procure my license?" "No; you didn't," said the boy, angered at this barefaced attempt to place him in a false position. "You told me to go out and paste up these bills, and you didn't say a word about license or anything else." "That's what I get for picking up a lad I know nothing about," remarked Quigg, turning to the officer, with a shrug and uplifted eyebrows. "He crept into my car night before last when I was asleep, and being sorry for him I gave him some work. And now he gets me into this scrape." "That's betwixt you and him," replied the officer indifferently. "I'm here to look out for the city. If you are going to take pictures, get out your license at wanst. And you'd better be after seeing Bud McShane the regular bill sticker, about the rint of what space ye want, or he'll be in your hair, the nixt." With this the policeman walked leisurely away, swinging his club. Quigg surveyed Ralph with disgust. "Put down that bucket and brush," said he, "and unsling those posters. You're too precious green for my business, by half." "Green I may be," returned the boy, disburdening himself at once, "but I am no liar, and I can't say as I want to work for a liar either." "You impudent rascal!" cried Quigg, thoroughly enraged, "I'll teach you to call names!" Quigg was small for a man, and Ralph large for a boy of his age. When the former advanced threateningly, the mountain lad stood firm and eyed his employer steadily. "You can talk as you please, Mr. Quigg; but--keep your hands off." The little artist stormed and threatened, but came no nearer. "If you had been sharp," said he "you would have posted those bills in a hurry and dodged the police. I could have taken pictures for a few days, then boarded the train before the authorities got onto the scheme." "That wouldn't be honest, would it?" "Honest! Get out of here. What you've eaten is good pay for the little you've done. As it is, I shall have a fine bill to settle with the city on account of your folly." "You did not care whether I got into trouble or not, so you saved a little by swindling the city. That's about what it amounts to, as far as I can make out." "Get out, I say. Tramp! Scat with you!" Mr. Quigg fairly danced with futile anger, while Ralph, seeing the uselessness of further words, walked rapidly off. The small crowd disappointed in beholding a fight, slowly dispersed. The last Ralph saw of his former "boss," the latter was trying to secure another assistant from the idle boys looking on. "Well," thought the mountain lad, as he walked aimlessly up one of the principal streets, "I am no worse off than I was before I met that fellow. I'm further on my way, wherever I fetch up at, and I haven't had to spend any money yet." The sights and sounds of city life so interested him for the next hour or two, that he partially forgot the exigencies of his situation in contemplating the strange scenes by which he was surrounded. The street cars, the drays, the carriages, and the other intermingling vehicles puzzled his senses and deafened his ears. "What a racket they keep up," thought he. "It's a wonder they don't run into each other! And the women! I never saw such dressin' before, nor so many pretty girls. Our mountain folks on meeting day ain't nowhere. The houses are so high I don't see how they ever climb to the top. I'd just as soon crawl up old Peaky Top back of our cabin on Hiawassee." Down at the railroad station he narrowly escaped being run over by a swiftly moving engine. Its shrill whistle and the objurgations of the fireman as it passed, startled him not a little. For some time he watched the movements of trains and the shifting of cars, and finally found his way into the general waiting room for passengers. A red shirted bootblack accosted him in a bantering tone. "Hey, country! Have your mud splashers shined? Only a nickel." "I'll shine your nose with my fist, if you don't let me alone," said Ralph, with so fierce a scowl that the boy edged away. The mountain lad, though but half comprehending the bootblack's meaning, was aware that he was being made game of. He paused before a full length mirror in the toilet room, and for the first time in his life obtained a good view of his entire person. "I declare! That looking glass is a sight. I'm a sight, too. I don't wonder folks call me country." He was sharp enough to realize the difference in appearance, between himself in his home made outfit and the generally smart youth of the city. Yet he could hardly define wherein the contrast consisted. "I know I ain't no fool," was his reflection, "yet I know I must look like one to these sassy town fellows." The sight of an Italian fruit and cake stand reminded him that he was hungry, so he invested a nickel in a frugal supply of gingerbread, which he munched as he stood on the curb. "Take banana. T'ree fo' five centa," urged the black eyed girl, with large ear rings, who had supplied his wants. Ralph eyed the pendulous fruit dubiously. He had never seen anything like it before. "Looks some like skinned sweet taters," he said to himself. "Are they good?" he queried aloud. "Verra goot; go nice wiz shinger braad." "All right. Give me three," and he parted with another five cents, then bit into the fruit without more ado. The girl tried in vain to smother her laughter. "Zat nota ze way. You peel um--so." She accompanied her words by stripping the skin from one. "Now; be ready fo' eat." Ralph turned away with his relish for new delicacies embittered by another reminder of his worldly deficiencies. "I never know'd before how ignorant we mountain folks are. Even that foreign girl as can hardly talk at all, laughed at my way of doing." He dropped the bananas into the paper bag holding the gingerbread, and frowned heavily. Then he set his lips firmly together. "I will not let 'em down me this way. I'll learn their ways or die a trying." After enunciating this resolve, he felt better. Presently he sat down on a door step at the entrance to an alley and ate his lunch with a better appetite. "These--what was it she called 'em?--these bernanas ain't so bad after all," he said to himself. "Taste a little like apples, seems like." While he sat there some bells began ringing furiously and a steam fire engine rushed by. The smoke, flame, roar and speed, stirred his blood, while the singular, not to say splendid, appearance of the outfit, with its bright brass work and powerful horses, was at once fascinating and terrible. Having finished his lunch he followed the crowd that was surging along the street and presently came in sight of the burning building, which was a large cotton warehouse. He soon was in the midst of a pushing, noisy mass of people, with eyes only for the fire, the rolling smoke, and the puffing engines. Suddenly he felt a touch upon his person, which, though light as thistle down, almost thrilled him with an indefinite sense of alarm. Reaching quickly downward he grasped a wrist that was not his own. CHAPTER VIII. Captain Shard's Proposal. The arm Ralph seized was violently jerked and twisted, but the mountain boy was strong for his age, and held on tight. Turning at the same instant he found himself facing the same negro boy, who had probably saved him from arrest that morning by warning him regarding the bill posting. "What did you want in my pocket?" demanded Ralph, feeling with his free hand to assure himself that his money was safe. "Hush!" half whispered the darky. "I didn't see hit was yo'. Deed I didn't, suh." Ralph regarded the negro steadily, as it dawned upon his crude conceptions that the other was a thief. Then he thought of the service the fellow had unwittingly done him, and at once released his grip. "Go," said he contemptuously. "Don't let me see you round here any more." The negro disappeared in the crowd, one of whom said to the mountain boy: "Why didn't you hand him over to yonder policeman?" "Well--because I sort of felt sorry for the fool," was the explanation Ralph would vouchsafe as he, too, turned away and extricated himself from the throng. After that he wandered about the city, finding something to excite his wonder or admiration at every turn, until the lowness of the western sun admonished him that he had better begin to look out for supper and bed. First he stepped into an area way, and placed his money in an inside pocket. "Best to be on the safe side," thought he, as he returned to the street. "Looks like in these towns they'd steal a man's britches if they could pull 'em off without his knowing it. Hullo! That must be the captain's livery stable." Directly across the street was a large wooden building, on the front of which, in enormous letters, were these words: SHARD'S LIVERY STABLE. While Ralph was debating whether he should again make himself known, the captain drove forth from the stable in a buggy. His quick eye lighted upon Ralph at once. "Come here," he called, beckoning also with his finger. "I see you are still about," he added as Ralph crossed over. "Yes, but I ain't posting bills any more." "Then your job didn't last long?" Ralph frankly related the cause and manner of his discharge by Mr. Quigg, whereat the captain laughed heartily. "Well," said he, "I don't think you missed much, if that is the sort of a man he is. I'm city auditor, and I will see that Quigg, or whatever his name is, don't cheat the city. What are you going to do?" Shard bent his eyes sharply on Ralph, and once more the boy felt uncomfortable. He replied, however, that he would find something before long. "You stay with my foreman tonight," the captain said briskly. "Emmons!" to some one inside. "This lad will eat and sleep with you. I want you to take good care of him." Emmons, without appearing, grunted a distant assent. Ralph ventured a protest. "I can find a lodging, captain," he began. "Hut tut! You're too green yet to be left alone all night in this town. Not a word. You stay with Emmons. In the morning I will let you know of a plan I am considering. It may be good for you." Captain Shard gathered up his reins, nodded carelessly, and went off down the street in a small cloud of dust. Ralph went into the stable, not seeing clearly how to refuse, though hardly at ease in his mind. As he stood in the doorway, looking along a double line of vehicles of all sorts backed against the wall, a hoarse voice bade him come into the office. "Rather a small hole, but large enough for two," remarked Emmons from a high stool as Ralph entered a box of a place, about eight by ten, with a desk, a chair, stool, and a few lap robes in a corner as the furnishings thereof. Emmons was a squat, thick set personage, with most of his face hidden behind a tremendous beard. He cast a careless glance at the boy, then shutting a ledger said: "Let's go to supper." He seized an old palmetto hat, and leaving the stables, dived down a side street, and into a cheap restaurant near by. Ralph followed. They seated themselves at one of a row of pine tables, covered with oilcloth, and well sprinkled with crumbs and flies. "Better take beef stew," remarked Emmons, seizing some bread and eating ravenously. "Get more if you're hungry." Two beef stews were therefore ordered, and brought with a great clatter of table ware. Emmons fell to as if he had not broken his fast that day. Ralph did not like the chicory coffee, though he did justice to the stew. The crowd of rapid eaters, the noisy rush and yells of the waiters, the steam fly fans, and the hard faced cashier, all excited his curiosity. Two checks were thrown down. Emmons pounced upon both, though Ralph did not understand what they meant, until he saw the stable man lay them, accompanied by two dimes, upon the desk at the door. "Why did you not let me pay mine?" he asked. "All right. Boss's orders." The evening passed quietly, the foreman talking but little, though he entertained Ralph for a time by playing on a French harp, or mouth organ. When bedtime came he ushered the boy into a sort of cubby hole behind the office that was barely large enough to afford space for undressing beside the bed. In five minutes Emmons was snoring lustily, though Ralph lay long awake, thinking over the various phases of his situation and prospects. He was routed out early in the morning to help the foreman feed the horses and mules in the stables underneath, and kept busy for an hour, after which they took breakfast at the restaurant where they had procured their supper. About nine o'clock Captain Shard arrived in his buggy from his home in the suburbs. "Come in here, Ralph," said he, as Emmons took the horse. "I want to have a talk with you." He led the way into the office, closed the door, and fixed his eyes intently on Ralph, who followed. Then he frowned, appeared to ponder for a moment, and finally cleared his brow as he looked up again. "How would you like to follow the sea for a living?" he at length demanded. "Follow the sea?" repeated Ralph as if he hardly comprehended. "Do you mean how would I like to be a sailor?" "Something of the kind. You would begin as cabin boy, probably. If you are smart and willing you would soon climb up higher. By the time you are eighteen, you should be an A 1 seaman, earning at least twenty dollars a month and your keep." Among the few books the boy had somehow got hold of in the mountains, one of the most treasured was a copy of Marryat's "Midshipman Easy." He felt a thrill now, as he pictured himself in a position to emulate, in a measure, some of the adventures therein so graphically depicted. The distant ocean held up to his anticipation the stirring pleasures of a life on the wave, while veiling from his boyish ignorance its overmastering hardships. The captain saw his face light up, and proceeded to explain further. "I have a cousin who runs a schooner in the West Indies trade. He is now at the Marshall House, Savannah. His vessel is somewhere near there. Now I can get you a good berth with him, I know. I have done him a few favors, and he is not ungrateful. "Emmons, here, is going to start today with a gang of mules for Augusta. You can help him on that far, and in payment he will buy you a ticket to Savannah. I will give you a letter to my cousin, and also write him by mail that you are on the way. Now, what do you think of that?" "Sounds mighty nice--almost too nice," thought Ralph, who was shrewd enough to wonder why Shard--whom he had been warned against--should put himself out to serve a Granger. "Perhaps he is sick of the feud, like me. I'm sure I would do him a favor, if he is half a Vaughn. By granny! I believe I will take him up. Aunt Dopples don't know everything." "Think over it well," added the captain, noticing the boy's reflective manner. "A sailor's life is by no means easy, yet a bright, active lad can rise. Many a captain began before the mast." Shard was smiling seductively, though his gaze seemed hard and penetrating. He hung over the lad not unlike some bird of prey, waiting for a favorable chance to pounce. "All right," said Ralph at last. "I will go and feel thankful for the chance, if you will answer me one question. Why should you be so--so willing to do a favor to me. In the mountains folks would think you were crazy." "Ha! That miserable old feud again. My boy, I have outgrown it; have been too much in the world. I see in you a bright lad, who only needs to be started in order to make his own way. Why should I not start you as well as any one else, especially when it costs me nothing but the stroke of a pen? Besides your going to Augusta saves me the expense of hiring an extra hand." All this seemed so reasonable that Ralph's weakening scruples entirely vanished. He assented without further parley to Captain Shard's offer, and was straightway placed under the supervision of the foreman, who was in a rear stable yard haltering a small drove of mules together in squads. Ralph lent active assistance, and in half an hour they were ready to start. One mule in each bunch was saddled. Extra clothing was rolled in blankets, and strapped behind the saddles. Emmons disappeared in the direction of the office. When he returned the captain came with him, bearing in his hand a letter. "Here is your introduction to Captain Gary, the gentleman whom you will find at the Marshall House in Savannah. Suppose you read it to see that all is square and above board." "Oh, it's all right, I reckon," replied Ralph carelessly. "Yes, it is all right, but I would rather you looked for yourself before leaving. Should anything go wrong--which I do not anticipate at all--I wish to feel exonerated in your mind, my boy." The captain's teeth gleamed almost fiercely as he smiled in a friendly manner, though his eyes never relented in their hard, unfeeling stare. Ralph drew forth the note from the envelope and read:-- MY DEAR COUSIN: This will make you acquainted with a youth in whose welfare I already feel a deep interest. He has made up his mind to learn to be a sailor, and I shall take it very kindly if you will take charge of him, and see what he can do. Give him as easy a berth as you can, and let me know from time to time what progress he is making. His name is Ralph Granger, and he is as plucky as he looks. Your cousin and friend, THEODORE SHARD. To CAPTAIN MARK GARY, Marshall House, Savannah. This seemed flattering enough. As Ralph expressed his thanks, he repressed a fleeting idea that the tone of the letter was most too much that way. Shard shook him by the hand, and was about to retire when he appeared to recollect something. "Need any money, for clothes, and so on?" "I have enough to do me," said Ralph. "You have done enough already, and I----" "Never mind that. Emmons will settle board bills, and get your ticket in Augusta. Good by. Let me hear a good account of you when Gary writes." With a final nod and smile that was almost fatherly, the captain disappeared. Emmons had already mounted. Ralph quickly did likewise, and the two, with their four footed charges, rode out of the yard through a gate that was closed behind them by a negro hostler. At first the five mules Ralph was leading, besides the one he rode, did not travel well together. His arm was wrenched almost unbearably in the effort to keep them up to the pace Emmons was setting. The latter, looking back, called out: "Make your halter fast to your saddle bow. Then lay the whip on." The boy did so, and they were presently clattering down the street at a pace that made a stray policeman wave his club warningly. Soon they were in the suburbs, and thence the open country came into view, where truck farms and fruit orchards gave way to green fields of cotton and corn. The negroes seemed to be everywhere. At a bridge a couple of black fishermen bobbed up from behind an abutment, scaring the rear squad of mules. The five lead ones pressed heavily upon the one Ralph was riding. "Look out!" cried one of the darkies. "Yo'se gwine over de bank! Watch out, I say!" CHAPTER IX. Ralph Arrives at Savannah. The warning was too late to be effectual. It might not have done any good, anyhow, as under the pressure of five frightened mules, the one Ralph bestrode was pushed to the very verge of the high embankment leading up to the bridge. The boy saw the inevitable catastrophe that was coming. He released his feet from the stirrups, unwound the halter from the saddle bow and threw himself on the back of the next mule just as the one he had been riding toppled over the embankment, down which it rolled clumsily to the bottom. Ralph spurred the other on vigorously towards the bridge, while the two negroes, who were responsible for the disaster, seized the rope that held the animals and between the three further mischief was averted. But it was a very close shave. Had the whole bunch gone, Ralph's life might have been sacrificed, to say nothing of damage to the mules. Emmons now came cantering back with his charges just as the fallen mule regained its feet with the saddle between its legs. "What d'ye mean?" he scolded. "Hain't you learned to ride yet?" Ralph, rather provoked and much out of breath, was silent, but the darkies gave loud and voluble explanations, tending mostly to exculpate themselves. Then they brought up the fallen mule, fixed the saddle and looked as if they would not have objected to a small reward. "Hurry, Ralph!" exclaimed Emmons, tossing them a dime. "We got no time to lose. Glad there's no bones broken, but you must look sharp." Ralph remounted and they were soon on the way again. For the next two or three days they passed through a mostly level country, where great cotton plantations, with stretches of swamp between, alternated with broad pine barrens. In these last the wind sighed mournfully, and the soil looked so poor that the mountain boy felt that there was a section worse off than his own steep and gravelly native land. They arrived in Augusta by way of a ferry across the dirty, narrow river that flows near the city. The mules were duly delivered to the proper parties and the two at last felt at leisure to do as they pleased. Emmons took Ralph to a soda fountain. "What will you have?" he asked. "I don't know; whatever you like," said the boy, once more at sea as to what he might expect. When the effervescent liquid foamed and fizzed, Ralph stared in amazement. "Must I drink it?" he faltered, noticing the ease with which Emmons swallowed his. "Of course, you must. Did you think it was to wash with?" Ralph afterward averred that it tasted better than it sounded, but again pondered over the--to him--increasing mysteries of civilization. They had a late dinner, then made their way to the railroad depot, where Emmons bought and gave to Ralph his ticket for Savannah by the train which was to leave in an hour. "I'll be goin' back to see about the money for them mules," said Emmons at length. "Well, good by. Swing tight to your cash, and write to us when ye get to Savanny." As the foreman took his big beard out of sight somebody out where the cars were shouted: "All aboard! All aboard!" Ralph saw people rushing out and jumping on the train that was on the point of starting. He suddenly was seized by an idea that he was about to be left. So he ran out with the crowd and was about to climb into a drawing room coach, when a trim colored man dressed in blue, who was standing at the steps, stopped him. "Let's see your ticket please." Ralph drew it forth and was about to hurry on in, when the porter handed it back. "Dis ain't your train, boy," said he with a somewhat contemptuous accent. "Dis yere's a parlor coach fo' Atlanty." "Wh--where is my train then?" asked Ralph, not knowing what to do next. "Ain't made up yet," called the porter as the cars moved away, leaving the lad looking about him rather foolishly. "Made a jack of myself again," said he, as he remembered that the agent had told Emmons when they bought their tickets, that the Savannah train would not leave for an hour. He returned to the waiting room and sat there very quietly until the time was nearly up, then went out and found the proper car without further difficulty. That long night's ride was interesting though tiresome. Ralph tried to count the telegraph poles without understanding much about their uses. The low, level country, the tall trunks of the pines, the ever present negroes, the sparks from the engine, and the occasional interruptions from the conductor, kept him from sleep until long after midnight. Finally, however, he coiled himself up on the seat and knew nothing more until some one shook him by the shoulder. "Is yo' gwine ter stay in yere all day?" asked a voice. Ralph sat up and rubbed his eyes. The sun was shining and the car empty, with the exception of himself and a negro brakeman, who had awakened him from an unusually sound slumber. "Where are we?" he asked. "We'se in Savanny. Been yere nigh 'bout an hour. I seed yo' was tired, an' I 'lowed I'd let yer sleep. But I'se got ter sweep out now." When Ralph emerged from the depot he found himself on a sandy unpaved street, with many half shabby frame houses about and a number of tall pines in the distance. He followed a line of trucks and drays towards the business part of the city, and presently dropped into a cheap eating house for breakfast. After that he began to inquire for the Marshall House, which he found to be a large, red brick hostelry, with a broad second story veranda in front. The sidewalk beneath was sprinkled with chairs partially occupied by men reading their morning papers or smoking. A few glanced curiously at the roughly dressed boy, who made his way into a large hall and office combined, where trunks and grips were stacked up by the score, and trim porters and waiters were gliding to and fro. He instantly felt himself out of place amid those well dressed people, and smart servants. It was his first experience with a first class city hotel. So low did his courage ebb at first that he very nearly made up his mind to retreat without attempting to see Captain Gary. In his unwashed, uncombed condition, the contrast between himself and those around was embarrassing enough even to his crude conception. He stood gazing about in a half helpless manner, not knowing to whom to apply for information. "Where can I find Captain Gary?" he asked at length of a porter who happened to be lounging near. The negro inspected Ralph from head to foot, then demanded: "Do he stop yere?" "Yes. I have a letter for him." "Oh! Dat all is it?" The porter had found it hard to reconcile Ralph's appearance with any other connection with a guest of the hotel than a menial one. "Yo' go right up to de office over dar and gin it to the clerk. He see Cap'n Gary gits um." "But--but I have to see the captain myself," urged Ralph. "What yo' reckon a gen'lemun like he wanter sech a boy as you? Huh?" Ralph felt that his clothes were against him, but he did not propose to be bullied by a servant and a negro at that. "Look here," said he. "I want to see Captain Gary and I'm going to see him, too. I've got business with him--d'ye understand?" "Well den," replied the porter insolently, "s'posen yo' find where he is yo'self." Ralph, without another word, marched straight to the clerk's desk. CHAPTER X. The Captain Talks With Ralph. Ralph's previous diffidence disappeared under the flush of anger aroused by the porter's words. "Mister," said he addressing the stylish looking clerk, who at first barely glanced at the lad, "I was sent here from Columbia to see a man who stops here called Captain Gary. That nigger over there, when I asked him where the man was, told me to hunt him up myself. I never was in your tavern before. How can I find him, I'd like to know?" Before Ralph had concluded, the clerk was inspecting his person curiously. Ralph again thought of his clothes. "I don't look very stylish," said he, "and I know it; but I've got business with Captain Gary all the same." "Front!" called the clerk, without addressing Ralph. A smart mulatto boy, uniformed in blue and red, sprang from a bench where several others similarly clad were seated. "Show this--this person to forty nine," directed the clerk, then turned to another inquirer as if he had already forgotten Ralph's existence. "There's one thing certain," thought the lad, as he followed the call boy down a long hall, up one flight of stairs and into a richly carpeted corridor, "we mountain folks can beat these city dudes on manners, if we can't in anything else." The boy knocked at a door and a voice almost feminine in musical softness bade them "Come in." "Some one to see yo', suh," said the messenger, pushing Ralph inside and closing the door. The mountain youth found himself alone with a slender, exceedingly handsome man, so slight of figure and fair in complexion as to fully bear out in his appearance the womanly resemblance suggested by his voice. He was dressed in a walking suit of a subdued gray tint, with patent leather gaiters, and his hands were white, while his fingers sparkled with one or two jeweled rings. His linen was spotless and in his lemon colored neck tie shone a large diamond. He was reclining in an easy chair, smoking a cigarette, and as he languidly surveyed Ralph, the boy felt that here was a sea captain different from those he had read of or imagined. "Well, my lad, what is it you want of me?" inquired the man. "My name is Ralph Granger. I have a letter for you from Captain Shard. He said you would understand." Gary took the missive which Ralph now produced, opened it, and glanced through it carelessly, then extended his hand. "Glad to see you," said he softly. "So you want to try the sea, eh? Well, any one coming from my cousin Shard is always sure of a welcome from me." Here he smiled very sweetly and waved his beringed fingers. "Stand more in the light, please. I want to take a good look at you, Ralph." As he inspected the boy from under his half closed lashes, his eyes shone curiously. "Now, Ralph," continued he with lazy cordiality, as if he had known the youth for weeks instead of minutes, "what do you know about a sailor's life?" "I don't know anything, except--except,"--Ralph hesitated. "Well?" suggested the captain inquiringly, and with an enchanting smile. "I've read a book or two about sea life and ships, and all that. Outside of that I ain't posted." "I see. Did you bring any kit along?" "What's that, sir?" "Outfit, clothes, baggage, you know." "I've got a bundle of clothes down at the car shed." "Ah--yes." The captain reflected a moment. "My boatswain is to be here at eleven sharp. I guess you had better go aboard with him." "Go where, sir?" "Down to the ship. We call it going aboard, you see," and once more Captain Gary smiled with almost infantile amiability. "Been to breakfast? Yes? Well, then, suppose you take a stroll about and see the town. Don't get lost, and be sure and be back by eleven. My room is forty nine; can you recollect that?" Ralph thought he could, and was about to withdraw when the captain pulled out a silver dollar. "You may need a little spending money," said he. "Only I hope you won't buy tobacco. Lads of your age, you know, are best without it, and as for cards----" Ralph hastened to assure him that he not only did not smoke or gamble, but that he had some money of his own. "Take this, however. We will call it a slight advance on your wages." The captain insisted so genially that Ralph could not refuse. "Looks like I've dropped into a soft snap at last," thought he, as he found his way to the street. "I wonder if many ship captains are like him? Them as I have read of were mostly great, big, strapping, swearing sort of fellows, ready to knock a body down when things don't go to suit 'em. Well, I'm glad I've got such an easy going boss to learn a sailor's trade under. I wonder where we will sail to first? I hope it will be a good long voyage where I can see and learn a heap." After Ralph's departure Captain Gary sank back into his chair and smoked his cigarette out. Then he produced another letter, addressed in the same hand as the one given him by Ralph, and spread them out together on his knees. "So," said he, half aloud, while certain hard lines appeared on his face that changed its entire expression to one of callous severity, "my good cousin wants me to put this lad through. What is there about the boy that he dislikes? Well, Theodore has done me more than one good turn. What is a lad more or less?" He stared at the wall before him, disclosing in his now widely open eyes a brightness as of steel, for the feminine softness had vanished utterly. "Tom Bludson will make him wish he had never been born as quickly as even Shard could desire. To make sure, we might leave him behind when we reach the Gold Coast. However, all this can be decided later." The captain lighted another cigarette, rang for a mint julep, then addressed himself to some writing, the materials for which were scattered about on a table by the window. He wrote several letters, made out some orders and accounts, smoking the while and sipping his julep through a long rye straw from time to time. At last, promptly on the stroke of eleven, appeared a tall, brawny, mahogany faced seaman, clad in blue flannels of a nautical cut. This personage pulled off a round, flat, visorless cap, and made a half military salute upon entering in obedience to the captain's summons. "That you, Ralph?" said the latter softly but without looking up. "That's right. Always be prompt, and you will be--a--hello!" raising his eyes. "What the dev--oh! It's you, is it, Tom?" "Me it are, sir," replied the tall sailor, again ducking his head. "I was to report at 'leven--shore time." "I thought it was that cursed boy," returned the captain in a sharp, quick tone, totally unlike the soothing drawl he had used in addressing Ralph. "Where can he be, I wonder?" The boatswain, comprehending that the captain was making inquiry rather of himself than his auditor, remained discreetly silent, merely availing himself of a chance to throw a tremendous quid of "navy" into the fireplace. "I want you to take him on board, Tom," added Gary, turning round. "You must see him stowed before I go down." "Where will I find him, sir?" "The deuce only knows. I told him to take a run round, but to show up at eleven. He is a thorough backwoods rooster and he may have got lost. Suppose you take a turn round the square and look him up. Don't be gone long. I have stores yet to go down by tug." "Aye, aye, sir," quoth Bludson, and promptly vanished. The captain had hardly buried himself in his accounts again, before the boatswain reappeared, holding Ralph by the collar. The lad had resisted at first, but found himself helpless in the grasp of the gigantic seaman and now ceased his struggles, though his face was red with vexation. "Be this the chap?" asked Tom. "Yes; you may turn him loose, however." The captain's teeth shone very white, so broad was the smile with which he strove to conceal the scowl that had at first mantled his brow at sight of Ralph. "My boy," continued he, "you will not feel hurt when I tell you that punctuality is one of the first requisites of success in the calling you have chosen." "I lost my way for a little while," began Ralph, but the captain signified that the tardiness was pardoned already. "You see we sail tonight on the flood," he added, "and we have yet much to do. This is our boatswain or bos'n--as we call them--Mr. Bludson. He will accompany you to the ship. Perhaps you will not mind assisting him a little in seeing to some stores that are yet to go down. Tom, you must be careful of young Granger. We already take a great interest in his welfare." Tom looked puzzled at first, but when the captain smiled once more he seemed relieved. Evidently he understood that smile. Ralph thought he did too, and he again felt that he was lucky in having so kind hearted a captain. After that Gary and Bludson conferred together over matters concerning the ship, while Ralph twirled his cap and placed his bundle beside him on the carpet. Some fifteen minutes might have thus passed, then the boatswain straightened up, thrust some papers the captain had given him into his hip pocket, and turned to the door. "Now, youngster," said he, "we'll get sail." "Stay with Bludson, Ralph," called the captain, waving his hand gracefully; "he will see you through in fine shape." "Aye, aye. I warrant I see him through," echoed the boatswain hoarsely as the two went out. In Ralph's opinion the captain was much more agreeable and "well mannered" than his subordinate. In the hall below they encountered a heavy set, bushy bearded man in navy blue, at sight of whom Bludson touched his cap. The man looked so sharply at Ralph that the boy inquired: "Who is that, Mr. Bludson?" "That's our first mate, and a rare un he is, too." "A rare one. What do you mean by that?" "Oh! You'll find out soon enough. Best not ask too many questions. Howsever, I'll give ye one bit of advice, as is worth a heap to landsmen aboard ship, and it shan't cost 'e a cent. That is keep your eyes peeled and your tongue betwixt your teeth. That's the way to larn and keep a whole skin." All this was rather enigmatical, but Ralph understood that he was not to ask any questions. After that Mr. Bludson maintained a dignified silence as he plunged, with Ralph at his side, into the regions of the wholesale trade. They called at several grocery and provision stores, and also at a ship chandler's. The boatswain had sundry talks with sundry clerks and some drays were loaded. Finally the two emerged upon the river front where lay, among other craft, a steam tug with a gang plank ashore. Tom pulled off his coat and gave it to Ralph, saying: "Climb aboard with this, then come back and bear a hand." The lad ran down the plank and deposited the boatswain's jacket and his bundle in the helmsman's closet, then made his way back and took hold of the incoming freight with a will. In half an hour the stores were on board, and the tug, casting loose, began to steam swiftly down the river. It being Ralph's first experience afloat, the swift, gliding motion and the noisy engine interested him greatly. The novelty was, in its way, as exciting as his first car ride. "What is it makes things go?" he asked of Bludson, who was sprawled upon a coil of cable, smoking a short black pipe. "The ingine and the propeller, ye lubber," replied the latter. "Did 'e think it was wings?" "But what is a propeller?" "Ah! The ign'erance of land folks! It do beat all. The propeller--why the propeller is a propeller, of course. What else did 'e think it were." "I know, but----" "Now look here, youngster. Watching is one thing and always wanting to know is another. Stow your gaff, as I said afore, and use your peepers." After this rebuff Ralph asked no more questions of his superior, but he faithfully obeyed the injunction as to "keeping a bright lookout." CHAPTER XI. Aboard the Curlew. They steamed along between low marshy banks for an hour or two, then the river began to widen into an irregularly shaped bay. Sundry low lying islands, covered with strange semi-tropic vegetation, rose up seaward, and by and by a sound as of muffled thunder could be heard. As they passed old Fort Pulaski, Ralph ventured to question the pilot on the roof. This grizzled boatman was gruff, but obliging. "It's the roar of the breakers, you hear," said he. "That is an old fort. Good for a siege once--no good now. And yonder--do you see that low lying, black schooner under the lee of Tybee light?" "Where?" inquired Ralph, leaning out of the little pilot house window. The pilot pointed, but it was quite a minute before the boy could distinguish the vessel. When he did, all his unaccustomed eye could make out, was a narrow dark line surmounted by a dim tracery of spars that were barely relieved by the white beach behind. Still further beyond rose the towering white lighthouse. "I believe I do see it," he said at length. "Well, that's the Curlew. She's a daisy on the wind, or for that matter sailing free either. There ain't a sweeter looking fore-an-after on this coast." "Is that Captain Gary's ship?" asked Ralph, for he had not heard the name of the vessel mentioned before. "Well, you are an ignoramus. Don't know the name of the craft you're shipping on." The old pilot looked disgusted. "Where'd you get your trainin'?" When Ralph explained that this was his first sight of salt water, and that he had seen the captain for the first time that morning, the pilot shook his grizzled head doubtfully. "Captain Gary is a deep one, that's what he is. He was mighty milk and watery, wasn't he? I thought so. Know where you're bound for?" Ralph had not the least idea, but felt no uneasiness, as the captain was so kind; had treated him almost like a son. "Did eh! Well, now see here. It's none of my business, but I believe in a fair shake." The pilot glanced round and noticing the boatswain sauntering toward them, he bent forward and concluded in an undertone: "When you get aboard and out to sea, you keep your eyes open and watch out for squalls. D'ye hear. Watch out for squalls." The boy heard but did not understand. The pilot's manner, however, impressed him as unusual. He felt vaguely uncomfortable, as the old man, after a knowing wink or two, fixed his eyes upon the course he was steering, and thereafter ignored Ralph's presence entirely. Bludson cast a searching glance at them both, then ordered Ralph to go below and bring up his coat. The lad obeyed and when he returned, the tug had forged past an island headland, disclosing to them a fine view of the open ocean. Ralph uttered an exclamation of wonder, and for five minutes or more he leaned against the guard rail, feasting his eyes on the heaving expanse of blue, foam dotted water near the inlet, where the rollers were breaking upon the bar. "It's the greatest sight I ever saw," he said turning to Bludson, who merely grunted. "How blue it looks! I suppose those changing lines of white are the breakers. Well, well! This beats the mountains. I wish I was out there right now." "You'd be wishing yourself ashore soon," returned Tom apathetically. "Wait till 'e gets seasick." "What is that? Does the sea make you sick?" "I should say it do. But there's a mighty fine cure for all that. Aye, 'tis a bracin', healthful cure." "Tell me, Mr. Bludson. You know I might get seasick, too." "Ye be bound to. Then cap'n 'e'll say lay forrid there and trice up that fo'topmast stays'l brace; and there you is first 'e know fifty feet above the fo' s'l boom, a takin' a good look of an hour or so at old Neptune. Well, if that don't fetch 'e all right, cap'n 'e'll say 'Reeve a slip knot under his arms' which, no sooner done than overboard you goes for a dip or two. That always brings 'em round." "Looks like a queer way to cure a sick man," commented Ralph, who but half comprehended the boatswain's lingo. "It beats the doctor though all the same," said Tom with rather a heartless grin. "But look round. What do 'e think of the Curlew now? Ain't she a beauty?" The tug had got near enough to enable the proportions of the vessel to be seen quite distinctly. Even to Ralph she was a graceful and pleasing sight. The long, low, black hull exhibited curves as perfect as the flowing sweep of a rainbow. The tall mast, the tapering tracery of spars, the snowy canvas and the general trim and orderly air maintained, were all attractive to the eye. In a brief time, the tug was lying alongside and the stores transferred to the schooner's hold in short order. A dozen or more catlike sailors assisted the crew of the tug, and Ralph made himself useful. When the tug sheered off, the boy leaning over the side of the schooner, beheld the pilot shake his head in a doubtful way as he answered Ralph's farewell wave of the hand. "So I must look out for squalls, must I?" he reflected. "I wonder what the man meant. Never mind. I am young, stout, and I'm not afraid. So I guess I won't worry. So nice a man as Captain Gary won't see a boy put upon, I know." A heavy hand came down on his shoulder. "Come now! We don't want no idlin' or staring over the side on this craft. Come along and stow your kit and sling your hammock. Then we'll eat a bite--you and me." Thus roused, he followed Tom Bludson into the forecastle, where a low but roomy apartment was lighted both by a swinging lamp and the daylight streaming through the narrow companionway. There was a double row of bunks on either hand and overhead were hooks to swing hammocks in the space between. Bludson unslung a hammock from the wall and tossed it to Ralph. There was a blanket inside. "Wrap your clothes in that blanket and give the hammock a turn or two--so." The boatswain accompanied his words by showing Ralph how a hammock is folded and slung to the hooks overhead when not in use. "Now," he added, "it's stowed for the day. When bedtime comes you must unsling and hang it as the rest do. You see there's not enough bunks for the crew, so some has to use hammocks." After that Tom led the way to the cook's galley, a mere closet of a place just abaft the foremast. In entering one went down two or three steps. Here they found Neb (short for Nebraska), the cook, a short, fat jolly looking negro, who with his stove and cooking utensils so completely filled up the place that Ralph was puzzled to see how the man ever managed to cook at all. Every bit of space was utilized, however. There were drawers and lockers under shelves and tables, while overhead were swinging racks for dishes and provisions. "Hi, Marse Tom, who be dat yo' got dar? One er dese yere shore kids?" "Yes, he's a shore kid, Neb. Him and me haven't had any dinner. Can't you shake us up a bit of something. Salt horse and skilly will do, if nothin' else is handy." Neb was acquiescent and the boatswain and his charge were soon discussing a hearty meal with molasses, vinegar and water for a beverage instead of coffee. After that Bludson took Ralph aft and introduced him to the second mate, Mr. Duff, a slim, active, pleasant looking young man of four and twenty, who was superintending the coiling of a spare cable in a cuddy hole beneath the wheel. "New boy, eh," said he, giving Ralph a brief but keen inspection. "I thought the captain swore that he wanted no more boys, after Bunty gave him the slip." Bunty, Ralph afterward learned, had run away at a foreign port with a small sum of money not his own. "Cap'n's changed his mind then, sir," returned Tom, "He said as 'e wanted p'tickler care taken of this kid, and he was to wait in the cabin till 'e gets his sea legs on so to speak." "What' your name?" To Ralph, then turning to the men: "Easy there. Lay her even, can't you." Ralph replied and Bludson added: "Blest if the kid's ever seen the ocean before. He don't know a brace from a marlin spike." "I can learn, I reckon," said Ralph so heartily that Mr. Duff took a second look at the boy, then smiled to himself. "Run down to the cabin and fetch me up the doctor," said the mate. "Yon's the way." He pointed towards the companionway. Ralph, somewhat puzzled, started down, but fancied he heard a sound of smothered laughter as he passed from sight. "They're making fun of me," thought he. "I don't believe there is any doctor here." The two men having finished with the cable went forward, just as Ralph reappeared bearing a box of patent pills he had found below. "That's the nearest thing to a doctor I could find," said he. The mate roared with laughter, while Long Tom grinned broadly, and the sailors snickered. "I guess you'll do, my lad," exclaimed Mr. Duff in high good humor. "Come with me and I will show you what the doctor is. Bludson, have that peak block on the foresail gaff slung a little higher. I think she will hoist easier." "Aye, aye, sir," returned the boatswain, while Ralph, following the mate, again descended to the cabin. The cabin was roomy, well carpeted, and contained a stationary table through the center of which ran the mainmast of the schooner. At the stern were two staterooms; one for the captain and the other for the two mates. Lockers and drawers were scattered about, and a mirror with a picture or two was attached to the walls. On a cushioned seat at one side lay a large white cat. "That's Doctor," said the mate. "He's a great pet, and while you are aft you must see that he wants for nothing." The mate showed Ralph a small closet where were sundry brooms, brushes and other implements for cleaning up. "As you are to be cabin boy, for a while at least," said Mr. Duff, "you might as well begin by tidying up the cabin a bit. We want to have things shipshape by the time the captain comes aboard." For an hour or so Ralph busied himself accordingly, until a commotion on deck led him to look out at one of the stateroom windows. CHAPTER XII. The Curlew Puts to Sea. These windows were mere bullseye affairs, swinging on pivots. Pushing one open, Ralph saw a four oared boat pulling rapidly for the schooner. Presently he heard the rattle of oars under the vessel's side, and an order or two issued by the second mate. He hastened up the companionway just in time to see Mr. Duff saluting Captain Gary and Mr. Rucker as they came over the side, passing between several seamen drawn up on either side of the gangway. The first mate cast an eye aloft and to seaward, while the captain walked so quickly down the companionway that he nearly overturned Ralph. "What do you mean?" exclaimed Gary, flinging the lad roughly aside. "Have you no manners?" He disappeared in the cabin whither Ralph followed dumbfounded at this unlooked for exhibition of temper on the part of his hitherto placid superior. The captain was flinging down some papers on the table. Looking up he recognized Ralph for the first time. "That you, Ralph?" he said, banishing a scowl in a smile that had no mirth in it. "Was it you outside?" "Yes, sir." "I did not know it was you. But we learn to look sharp and be spry on shipboard. Did Bludson treat you well? Ah--that's good. Had a pleasant time? I always want my men to enjoy themselves. I see you have tidied up things here. You must keep this cabin clean, and also these staterooms. You will also wait on the cabin table and take your meals here." The captain started for his own room, but looking back, said: "Go forward, Neb will show you about making ready for supper." From then on until flood tide, several hours later, both men and officers were busy in stowing away and making things generally snug. After his duties at the table were over, Ralph had little to do but to watch what was going on around, which he did eagerly, striving to master, as well as he could, the mystery and duties of the strange life upon which he was entering. As the hour grew late, only the watch on deck, together with the officer in charge, remained above; that is except Ralph, who found everything interesting. The first mate was in his berth, and the captain writing in the cabin. Mr. Duff was walking to and fro near the wheel, while in the forecastle the major part of the crew were in their bunks. It might have been near midnight. Ralph, having seated himself on the step between the quarter and the main decks, had at last fallen into a doze, with his head against the bulwarks. Captain Gary came up, cast a look about and then consulted his watch. "We might as well make sail, Mr. Duff," said he in a low tone. "Call all hands." Then he returned to the cabin. A moment later Bludson's shrill whistle aroused Ralph with a start. The deck became alive with moving figures in answer to the boatswain's hoarse summons. "Hoist away with a will, men. Yo--heave--ho! Up she goes." To such and similar cries, Ralph saw the great main sail unfold its vast expanse in obedience to the measured hauling of a line of men, who uttered a monotonous half shout as they bent to the work. Another gang soon had the foresail going upward, after which the capstan was manned. To Ralph these proceedings were thrillingly attractive. It was his first bewildering taste of the duties of a sailor's life. As the men pushed with a will at the capstan bars, and the ship drew toward her anchor, some one struck up a song that ran somewhat as follows: "A bucklin' wind and a swashin' tide, Yo ho, ho, boys, yo ho, ho! If I had Nancy by my side, With a yo ho, ho, ho, boys, yo ho, ho!" While there did not seem to be much sense attached to the words, the manner in which they were roared forth, and the push altogether with which they drove the bars at the end of each line, made a vivid impression on the mountain lad's imagination. He felt glad that he had elected to be a sailor, even though he began as an humble cabin boy. There was an element of dash and danger connected with the life that appealed to the natural daring of his disposition. "I shall certainly see enough of the world," thought he, "and I shall leave that miserable feud far, far behind." With the anchor a-trip, the men waited for the final signal. As a light westerly puff swelled the mainsail, which was drawn flat, Mr. Duff uttered a low "Now then," that was repeated loudly by the boatswain, who acted also as a sort of sailing master. "Yo ho, ho! Heave 'er up, hearties!" The capstan was again manned, and as the schooner fell off before the wind, Ralph, leaning over the forward bulwarks, saw the great anchor hang dripping under the bow. Later on it would be stowed on deck. And now the three jibs were hoisted one after another, then the topsails, and finally, as the breeze was light, a triangular staysail was run well up to the weather side between the masts. Under the influence of the wind and tide the Curlew spun along at an eight knot gait, trailing a glistening wake behind and with a briny hissing along the side as the smooth hull cut the rippling water. Presently the north point of the inlet was abreast, and Ralph began to notice a slow rocking motion which, as the vessel rose upon the swells, made him feel as if the deck were sinking beneath his feet. At first it was a pleasant sensation, and he leaned over the side, enjoying the starlit view, the moist, balmy air and the gentle motion. Tybee was now well astern. On either hand the shore line was receding while in front came a low, irregular roaring. Ralph walked back to where Mr. Duff was standing at the binnacle, conning the ship. There was no pilot aboard, as for some reason, Captain Gary did not wish the time of his departure publicly known. "What is that noise we hear ahead Mr. Duff?" asked the lad, whereat the sailor at the wheel snickered, while the mate allowed himself to smile. "That's the surf on the bar," said he. "What did you suppose it might be?" "I 'lowed it might be thunder, only I didn't see any clouds." At this Mr. Duff laughed outright, and the sailors nudged each other as if highly tickled. Ralph looked from one to another, and his pulse beat fast. "If I had you folks up in our mountains," said he, "mebbe I could show you a thing or two that would puzzle you. I know I'm green, but I'm not too green to learn." "You'll do," replied the mate shortly, as the boy turned away. A little later as he was standing by the after hatch, a hand was laid on his arm. "Ralph," said the second mate, for it was he, "let me give you a bit of advice. No matter what is said or done to you, take it and go along. Hard words mend no bones. I'm giving you straight goods, my lad. You seem to have the right kind of stuff in you, and all you need is to be kept in line." "Mr. Bludson said something of the sort, I think. All right, sir. I'll keep my mind on that, and I'm obliged to you." But after the mate had returned to the binnacle Ralph was conscious of a fall in his spirits. Ocean life might be glorious after a while, but at present he was apparently under everybody; he knew less than anybody, and--suddenly he threw his hand to his head. The roar of the breakers was close at hand now, and as the Curlew began to roll and pitch in quite a pronounced manner, the boy would have been alarmed but for the overmastering wretchedness of his feelings. His whole internal system seemed to be turning upside down. "It must be!" he groaned, staggering to the side. "I--I'm--sea--sick. Oh--oh--oh--Lordy!" CHAPTER XIII. A Taste of Ship's Discipline. For an hour or more passing events were as naught to Ralph. Too ill to sling his hammock, he finally crawled under one of the small boats on the main deck, and at last fell asleep. The next thing he was conscious of was a terrible chill, a sensation of drowning, and gasping for breath. As he woke he heard a gruff voice say: "If that don't fetch him nothin' won't." As Ralph opened his eyes, several seamen were standing about, laughing, one of whom held a half emptied bucket of water. The boy's head ached and he was thoroughly drenched and miserable. "Up you get!" said Long Tom, pausing in his walk to and fro in the waist of the schooner, "Time you were gettin' breakfast on the cabin table. Cap'n always raises thunder when breakfast is late." Ralph, on rising to his feet, nearly pitched down again, being brought up with a round turn in the lee scuppers. "Easy now, and get 'e sea legs on," suggested Bludson, who was balancing himself dexterously in his walk. The wind had stiffened, and a crisp plain of dancing white caps met Ralph's gaze as he steadied himself by the bulwarks. The Curlew, under a single reefed fore and mainsail and a single jib, was gracefully rising and falling to the rhythmic motion of long and ponderous waves. The unaccustomed roll bewildered the lad from the mountains, the singing of the wind through the shrouds buzzed strangely in his ears. He made a dive for the cook's galley, where Neb was dishing up the cabin meal. "Mind yo' steps, now," the negro cautioned him, as Ralph, with a waiter full of dishes, started for the companionway. The boy, though wet and shivering, determined to do his duty, come what might. By the assistance of Long Tom, who seized him by the collar and propelled him roughly but safely across the deck, he managed to reach the cabin. He got the table arranged somehow, placing the dishes in the rough weather racks provided, then after washing his face, he made his way back to the galley and started with another waiter full of eatables. This time something had drawn Long Tom away. Ralph did very well until he came to the open space between one of the boats and the mainmast. A rope really should have been stretched amid deck for his aid, but as others did not need it, no one thought or cared for the cabin boy. Just as Ralph made a dive for the mast and the afterhatch beyond, the captain emerged from the companionway. The boy reached the mast in safety. Encouraged by this, he loosened his hold and started boldly for the head of the stairs. Unfortunately the stern of the Curlew sank suddenly under the influence of a receding wave of unusual proportions. Ralph and his waiter of dishes were thrown violently forward against Captain Gary, who stood like a rock, while the boy pitched one way and his dishes went another. All who saw the catastrophe looked on with suspended breath. The captain glared at Ralph as the lad picked himself up, then pointed to the wreck of his breakfast. "Clean up that rubbish," he growled, a grimness as of death settling over his face. Two sailors sprang forward with bucket and mop. The captain turned to Ralph, who could now trace little resemblance in his superior's face and mien to the bland, almost fatherly man who had welcomed him at the Marshall House. "My lad," said Gary, and his voice grated harshly on the ear, "I don't think the deck agrees with you. Suppose you try the fo'mast head for an hour. Come! Up you go!" In his bewilderment Ralph attempted to mount the mainmast ratlines in a lumbering way. "Start him up, Long Tom," roared the captain. "The fool don't even know where the fo'mast is." Bludson again seized Ralph by the collar, propelled him the length of the deck and gave him a long boost up the forward ratlines. Faint from sickness, shivering in his wet clothes, dizzy with the peril of his position, yet with a rising passion in his heart, the boy began to ascend. With a shifting foundation under his feet, a stiff wind flattening him against the shrouds, and a deathly swaying to and fro that increased as he went higher, he managed to reach the foretop. Crawling through the lubber hole he rested and held on. "Up with you!" shouted the captain, but Ralph gave no heed. He was weak, faint and dizzy. The heaving plain below made his head swin [Transcriber's note: swim?]. The schooner's deck looked fearfully small. Casting his eye upward, he saw a narrowing ladder of rope shooting to a mere dot of a resting place twenty feet above him. It did not look as if a monkey could have held on there. "Why in the ---- don't you go on!" roared Gary, who was now pale with contained fury. "I think the lad is sick, sir," said Duff, who happened to be near. "See--by heavens!--he has fainted." "The kid is shamming," growled the first mate, whose watch it now was. "A dose of the paddle would bring him to, I'll warrant." "I think you are right, Rucker," said Gary without paying any heed to the second mate. "Lay for'ard there two of you and lash him to the topmast shrouds. He shall have his hour up there, dead or alive, then we'll settle his shamming." Two sailors, seizing some loose line, ran up the foremast to where Ralph had sunk back in a swoon, overcome by the combined effects of illness and the terrors of his position. Lifting him to his feet, they bound him to the topmast ratlines so that his feet rested on the little platform. As they came down one said to the other: "He ain't shamming. The lad is sick enough for a doctor, that's what 'e is, mate." "Shet up," quoth his companion. "Let the captain hear you and he'll put you on bread and water for three days, if no worse comes. Every tub stands on its own bottom in this craft." Meanwhile Neb had served breakfast in the cabin. Gary and Rucker went down, Duff taking the first mate's place. This was the second mate's first voyage with Captain Gary, and he furtively sympathized with Ralph, but such is the force of discipline on shipboard that he dared not show his feelings openly. "It's a burning shame," thought he, "to punish a land lubber of a boy the first day he ever spent at sea. Sugar wouldn't melt in Gary's mouth when I went to him for a job, but now the tune is changed. And to cap all, nobody seems to know where we're bound, unless it may be Rucker. The crew know nothing, except that we're provisioned for a long voyage, with a lot of stuff locked up in the hold as no one has seen yet." He glanced up at the helpless boy, then shook his head. "Hut tut! Are you sick of this cruise already, Jacob Duff? This will never do. You're in for it, so make the most of your luck, even if it turns out you do have a fiend for a skipper." When Gary and his first officer returned, Duff went below. But as he ate, his thoughts reverted so persistently to Ralph's predicament that he grew impatient with himself. After finishing his meal he lay down in his berth and tried to sleep. Some time had elapsed when he was aroused by a sound of furious objurgation on deck. He rose, took his cap and crept up the companionway. Captain Gary was standing by the weather rail of the quarter deck, where with clenched hands and violent gestures, he was pouring forth a flood of profane vituperation such as Duff had seldom heard equaled. Before him was Ralph, still so weak as to require the support which Long Tom was roughly giving him, yet gazing on his infuriated commander with a steady unflinching scorn. "Tell me you won't, eh?" stormed the captain, his feminine air and aspect completely lost in a mien of scowling ferocity. "By the living--but what's the use of swearing! Down with him to the sweat box, and if that don't tame him we'll try the paddle afterward. "Captain Gary," interrupted Ralph undauntedly, "if I had known you yesterday as I know you now, I'd have seen you dead before I'd a been here today. I'm weak, I know; you may tie and starve me, but if you ever have me beaten--make it a good job." Gary seemed momentarily paralyzed at such independence, then out of sheer amazement hissed forth sneeringly: "Will your impudence tell me why?" "Because I'll kill you!" exclaimed Ralph, with such concentrated energy of tone and accent, that Duff trembled inwardly for the boy's safety. "I know I'm in your power now, but I'd do it ten years from now if I had to wait so long. I never knew a mountain man to take a beating yet, without he got even--never!" Such unheard of insolence appeared to deprive Gary of words wherewith to do the situation justice. "You know what I want!" he roared at Bludson, as he left the deck. "See that it is done!" The boatswain at once collared Ralph and took him forward, where both disappeared in the forecastle. While this scene was being enacted, Rucker leaned against the stern rail idly picking his teeth, as his dull, hard eye glanced alternately from the vessel's course to the parties most concerned. "What in heaven's name is it all about?" asked Duff, when the two men were alone but for the man at the wheel, who appeared to give no heed. "What has the boy done?" "He's too independent," replied the first mate. "He can't do nothing; he couldn't even climb the fo'mast or walk the deck in a breeze. Such green uns has no business bein' independent aboard ship. If I was captain I'd a had him triced up to the mast and the paddle a going afore now." "The lad never saw a ship till yesterday. Isn't it a little rough to expect him to find his sea legs in half an hour? He was seasick to boot." "Sea--thunder! You never sailed with Captain Gary afore, did you?" Rucker regarded his junior with a peculiar smile. "I thought not. Well--I have. I'll give you a pointer. He'd rather send this ship to the bottom any time than stand any nonsense. That's him; and I'm sort o' built that way myself." Duff made no response, and soon returned to his stateroom, where he remained until his own watch was called. He was a good sailor and a nervy sort of a man, but there was something so peculiarly devilish in the contrast presented by Gary's slight, feminine person and his abnormal exhibition of rage that the second mate began to doubt whether he had done wisely in shipping with an unknown captain on an unknown voyage for the sake of mere high wages. He finally fell asleep until wakened by the sound of two bells being struck, followed by the hoarse cry of: "Starb'd watch on deck, ahoy!" CHAPTER XIV. Bad Weather. When the second mate reached the deck the wind had freshened still more. In the southwest a low lying bank of slate colored cloud was slowly diffusing itself over that quarter of the heavens. Under its lower edge, was a coppery hued, wind streaked border, that glistened in a dull way. "The barometer is falling," remarked Rucker as he prepared to go below. "We're going to have a nasty spell, I guess. You might take a double reef in that jib if it gets worse. If there's any shortnin' of sail beyond that, call the captain." In his walk to and fro the second mate's thoughts reverted to Ralph occasionally and he took pains later on, to ask Neb if the boy had had anything to eat. "Nuttin' but braid an' water, suh. Capn's orders." "It's a shame," thought Duff. "The lad's sick, so I don't reckon he's hungry; but he ought to have something more strengthening than that. I wonder what kind of a hole this sweat box is?" But as the weather grew worse, Mr. Duff's attention was necessarily given entirely to the management of the vessel when on watch, and during his hours off, he usually slept away his fatigue. The storm that gradually rose lasted, with varying fury, for three days. The Curlew proved herself a stanch and buoyant craft, easily controlled and as stiff under sail as a two decker. It was well for all hands that this was so, for the cyclone was a dangerous one, being a stray tempest from that center breeding place of storms, the West Indies. On the second day the two strong men who were required to steer had to be lashed to the wheel. Great combers occasionally swept the decks from bow to stern. After one of these the little schooner would rise, staggering not unlike a drunken man, the brine pouring in torrents from the scuppers, and the very hull quivering from the shock of the impact of those tons of water. The hatches were battened down and after the first day Captain Gary never left the deck. He had food and drink brought to him, as he swung to the weather shrouds, where he at times lashed himself, to avoid being washed overboard. He was the coolest man on the ship, never losing either presence of mind or a certain lightness of spirits, totally unlike the apparently ungovernable fury that possessed him when crossed by any one under his authority. His slight figure and gloved white hands seemed endowed with muscles of steel; he was, to all appearance, impervious to fatigue or fear. "He's a sailor, right," exclaimed Duff one day to Rucker, after Gary had brought the schooner unscathed through a mountainous wave that had threatened to overwhelm everything. "I will say this for him, he knows how to handle a ship." "I should say!" declared the first mate. "There ain't his ekal nowhere. I've sailed with him and I know." When the weather moderated and the schooner, after being tidied up, was plunging along with a double reefed fore and single reefed mainsail, and every one was breathing freely, Duff again thought of Ralph. "Poor fellow," said he to himself, "it's been tougher on him than any of us. He must have thought we were going to Davy Jones any time these three days." Not long after this he saw Long Tom bearing away a covered tin dish from the galley, and hastened to join the boatswain. "Is that the kid's grub?" he demanded, taking off the lid and surveying the contents. "Tis, eh? Well, see here, Bludson, I call it a crying shame. Bread and water still! Heave ahead. I am going to see what kind of a place this sweat box is." The boatswain would have remonstrated, but Duff ordered him on peremptorily. He led the way therefore to a trap door in the floor of the men's quarters in the forecastle. Passing through this with a lighted lantern they pushed forward into the very bow of the vessel, where a small space--three cornered--was walled in. Inside was a form crouched in a corner. The whole area was a mere closet, not only pitch dark within, but several feet below water level and with but a couple of inches of planking between a prisoner and the swashing, gurgling billows outside. "Ralph," called Duff, "are you all right, my lad?" "Here, boy," said Tom, setting down the tin vessel, "wake up and eat a bite. Mayhap cap'n will let you out before long. He's in a good humor today." But Ralph did not move. Duff raised him in his arms. The boy was insensible, either from fright, exhaustion, or the lack of suitable food. The mate's anger rose within him like a torrent. "This is simply brutal!--it is infamous. Lead the way out of here, bos'n; or--stay! Go to Captain Gary and say that Mr. Duff wants him to come here right away." "It's as much as my life's worth, sir." "Go on I tell you!" Duff was white to the lips, "D'ye want to see murder done? This lad's life is at stake, I say." While Tom went off grumbling, the second mate bathed Ralph's face with water from a jug he found, and chafed his hands. "Poor fellow! If I lose my job and am put here with him, I will speak out. The boy hasn't had a decent thing to eat since he came aboard." Presently the flicker of Tom's lantern was seen again. The captain was behind him, and in no good humor over the message he had received. The dash and swirl of water outside was incessant and deafening. "Mr. Duff," said Gary in his most grating tones, "who gave you the authority to interfere with my designs regarding this insolent youngster?" [Illustration: "Mr. Duff," said Gary in his most grating tones, "who gave you the authority to interfere with my designs regarding this insolent youngster?"] Duff's first reply was to bring Ralph's pale, inanimate face under the light. "Captain Gary," said he, "I profess to be a man--not a brute. I recognize your authority, but when I see murder about to be done--it's time to say something." The captain looked around as if to find a weapon wherewith to strike his subordinate down, while in his eye shone a dull spark. He did not look at Ralph, but controlled himself by a mighty effort. "Of course," he was able to say at last, "if the kid is in any danger, that alters the state of the case. But I dare say he is shamming." "Shamming! Look at his eyes; feel of his pulse." The captain declined these offices. He bit his nether lip instead and regarded Duff in a peculiar way, as the latter continued his efforts to resuscitate the boy. "We have no ship's doctor on board as you know," said Gary. "However, take him to a bunk in the men's quarters and tell the cook to make him some broth. He'll come round; then we will see how he behaves. Do you understand, Mr. Duff?" "Aye, aye, sir. Give the boy a chance and I think he will come out all right." Here Ralph showed signs of animation. He twisted himself as if in pain, then muttered: "If he beats me I--I--shall--kill him! Shan't I--grandpa? You drove--me--away--cause I wouldn't--cause I--wouldn't----" He became unintelligible for a moment, but finally burst forth with feeble energy again. "Let him starve me--shut me up--but--let him keep his hands off--hands off." The dull spark in Captain Gary's eyes seemed to enlarge and twinkle as the boy uttered these words in a semi-drowsy, spasmodic way. Presently the partially rolled up eyes opened in a natural manner and blinked feebly at the light. At this juncture a loud cry was heard from aloft of: "S-a-i-l h-o!" The captain turned away as if the interruption were a welcome one to him. "Stow that lad and see to him," he repeated, then added sternly: "Be assured of one thing, Mr. Duff, I will not forget your part in this affair." "Aye, aye, sir," replied the second mate, as the captain walked off. CHAPTER XV. Boarded by a Cruiser. Ralph was borne up into the men's quarters and placed in one of the most comfortable bunks. Pretty soon down came Neb with a steaming dish of stewed chicken, and a good supply of broth. This, with a ship's biscuit and a cup of coffee, were fed slowly to the lad by one of the sailors, until he was strong enough to help himself. "That's cabin grub, lad," remarked the sailor. "Second mate ordered it himself." Ralph, with the horror of those three days of darkness, and pitching, and churning seas still upon him, thanked his stars that he seemed to have one friend on board. Meanwhile, on deck all hands were watching the approach of a large steamship that was bearing down upon the Curlew to windward. The schooner was sailing with the wind abeam. Presently the captain, who was examining the stranger through a glass, ordered the helmsman to "ease away a bit." The Curlew fell off more before the wind, when it was seen that the steamer slightly changed her course so as to meet the altered movements of the schooner. Gary and Rucker now put their heads together, then the first mate, summoning the boatswain, disappeared below. "Hold her up a little, Mr. Duff," said the captain to the second officer, who was once more at his post. "She is a man of war, I think, and though I have no love for their prying ways, we must not seem to want to avoid her, now that she evidently intends to speak us." So the schooner's head was put to windward, and the two vessels rapidly drew near each other. It could soon be seen that the stranger was an armored cruiser, of great power and speed. "Run up the Stars and Stripes," said Gary. "Let him see what we are. Perhaps he'll be satisfied and pass on." This was done, but evoked no response from the cruiser, now less than a mile away. Suddenly the warship swung gracefully around, showing along her dull gray side a row of guns, while over bow and stern loomed two immense cannon of a caliber sufficient to sink the Curlew at a single discharge. Several little flags followed one another up to the cruiser's mastheads. "Get out the code, Mr. Duff," ordered the captain. "He's signaling. What in the mischief can he want?" Duff plunged into the cabin, reappearing a moment later with the signal book. Opening this, he compared the flags as seen through the glass with similar ones in the book, and their meanings. "Well?" said the captain impatiently. "He orders us to heave to under his quarter. Says he is going to send a boat aboard. "The deuce he is! Well, I suppose we might as well do as he says. Strikes me as a pretty high handed proceeding though, in time of peace. Look! There go his colors at last. British, by thunder!" As the cross of St. George unfolded to the breeze, Captain Gary, looking somewhat anxious, bade Duff obey the cruiser's order; then hastened below in the wake of his first mate and boatswain. By the time the Curlew had rounded to, a boat was leaving the warship's side as she lay broadside, hardly a quarter of a mile off. Though the sea was still rough, six pair of oars brought the boat spinning over the waves. Two officers were in the stern sheets, one of whom--a young third lieutenant--was soon on the deck of the schooner. At this juncture Captain Gary reappeared, followed by Rucker. Long Tom had already gone forward. "What schooner is this?" demanded the officer, after the first salutations had passed. "I should like to know first what right you have to ask that question," replied Gary in his most suave manner. "These are times of peace, when every one is privileged to attend to his own affairs, I believe." "Yes, when his affairs are not injurious to others. There is surely no harm in asking a vessel's name." "Is it customary to stop them on the high seas, and send a boat aboard to find out?" "Well, yes--under certain circumstances." The lieutenant smiled. "Especially so when we are under orders to that effect. To be plain, sir, we suspect you of being engaged in an unlawful enterprise." As may be supposed, Duff was paying the closest attention, for he and most others on board had shipped, not knowing the object of the voyage, but tempted by the high wages. "You do, eh." It was Gary's turn to smile now. "You men o' war's men often make mistakes as well as other people. This is the Curlew, four days out of Savannah, in ballast, and bound for Bermuda." "You are clear out of your course, if that is the case." "The storm did that for us. We had a three days' siege of it." "Well, let me see your papers and take a look through the hold. It can do no harm." "None in the least," replied the captain. He then ordered the main hatch opened as he escorted the officer down to the cabin in order to inspect the ship's papers. Rucker followed. Duff, impelled by curiosity, watched the opening of the hatch, which had remained closely sealed ever since he had been aboard. An apparently empty hold was all that rewarded his eye, except for the usual stores and provisions necessary for a long voyage. "If Bermuda is really our port, we've got grub enough, and to spare," thought he as he returned to the quarter-deck. Meanwhile the lieutenant, after a thorough inspection of the hold, returned to the open air. He still seemed unsatisfied, and cast curious glances here and there over the vessel's trim proportions. Finally he gave it up. "Your papers seem to be all right," he said, "and you certainly have no cargo, though you are provisioned for a voyage round the world, I should say." "Barrels of meal," said the captain. "My owner had a lot on hand, and thought it might fetch a better price in the Bermudas than at home. We can trade it for potatoes." "Well, I wish you success," added the officer, pausing at the ladder, and touching his cap to Gary and the mates. "Pardon whatever inconvenience we may have occasioned." He went down the side, the boat pulled back to the cruiser, and the latter steamed away westward. The Curlew, holding east, soon helped to place her dangerous neighbor hull down, when Captain Gary gave the order for all hands to be summoned aft. The crew came tumbling back into the waist, a swarthy, brawny, reckless looking set of men. Two of them brought Ralph up and set him down on a coil of rope. The warm meal, the sight of human faces, the sounds of life and light, had already renewed his strength and spirits. He was no longer so ill, and the bright sunlight and the heaving waves sent a sort of thrill through him. The sea was not all terrible after all. "Now, men," began the captain, when all had assumed a decorous silence, "what do you think that war ship supposed we were?" There was no reply to this, though the men looked at each other, then turned to their commander, as if expecting an answer. The captain broke into a harsh laugh. "Why," he continued, "they thought this ship was the famous slaver, the Wanderer. I guess you've all heard of the Wanderer." Yes, they had. Duff noticed that Rucker and Long Tom were the only two who seemed to be indifferent to this announcement. One or two of the sailors winked at each other as if the news that was to come would not be very much of a surprise, after all. "We are so far advanced on our way," continued the captain, "that I have concluded to let you know who and what we are and where we are bound. In case we are liable to another overhauling you can better assist in throwing the intermeddlers off the true scent. "We fooled them this time, but that was because the boarding officer was a green one. If an old hand at the business comes aboard it may be necessary to chuck him over the side and run for it. Therefore it is right you should know things, in order the more intelligently to obey orders. "This schooner is the Wanderer, men. You have shipped on the Wanderer, bound for the coast of Guinea after negroes for the Cuba market. How does that suit you? "If there are any grumblers, speak up. You've got high wages, light work, good grub, and a chance--if you stand by the ship--to share in the profits at the end of the voyage. Now, what d'ye say?" There was some muttering and laying of heads together on the part of the crew, then one old salt pulled off his cap, ducked his head, and after carefully transferring a quid of tobacco from his mouth to his pocket, said: "If so be the rest don't care, I don't. If so be some on us had knowed afore we shipped what kind of cargo we was after, we might have thought twice afore we signed. Niggers is niggers. Some say they is humans, some say they ain't. But this here shippin' 'em like two legged cattle be mighty resky nowadays. Less'n we make a heap." "Oh, you shut up!" interrupted the captain, laughing. "All the scruples any of you have is concerning the money there is in the cruise. Am I right?" "Well, a man's obleeged to look out for number one, cap'n," responded the fellow, falling back and restoring his quid to his left jaw. Ralph seemed about to speak, but as Gary's cold, hard eye fell on the lad, prudence bade him hold his peace. Besides he did not more than half comprehend the nature of the captain's explanation. The face of the second mate was a picture of disgust and irresolution. He said nothing, however, until the captain went below. Then he followed. "Captain Gary," said he, when the two were alone in the cabin, "you should have had my right hand sooner than have got me off on such a cruise had I known its object before I signed with you." "I know you," replied Gary somewhat scornfully. "You have just about conscience enough not to violate your word when the sacrifice would be too great. Of course you don't approve. I never asked for your approval; wouldn't give a cent for it if I had it. But you signed--for high wages--to go wherever I choose to sail. Is not that so?" "In one sense, yes. But a slaver now is little better than a pirate. You should have been more open." "And you less greedy for money. I say you are in for it. There is no chance to secure another mate, and I intend to see that you do your duty." CHAPTER XVI. Nearing the Gold Coast. The two men regarded each other steadily for a moment, then the mate heaved a sigh. "I don't care for your threats," said he. "It's that same conscience of mine which you think so little of that troubles me. As long as I am your second mate I shall do my duty. But I give you fair warning: when we get to port, if there is another ship where a man can get a job I shall leave you." "You'll leave without your pay, then," retorted the captain. Duff, without replying, left the cabin. He had explained his sentiments, and that was all he could do at present. In his succeeding round of ship inspection he was halted in the forecastle by Ralph, who had lain down again. "Oh, Mr. Duff, won't you please explain to me what the captain meant when he said we were bound after negroes for the Cuban market." "It's plain as your nose, my lad. We are going to the west coast of Africa--somewhere about the Congo, I guess. There we take on a load of Gold Coast darkies, fetch 'em over to Cuba, run 'em in after night, then get away--if we can. If we get captured we'll all get a term in Morro Castle or some other Spanish hole, and lose everything we've got. Oh, it's a nasty business the----" Here Mr. Duff broke off, remembering that he was saying too much before a cabin boy. But Ralph detained him by the sleeve. "I thought the negroes were all freed." "At home they are. But in Cuba and Brazil they are not, although the prospect is that they will be set at liberty before long. The best sentiment of the world is against slavery, you know.' "And what we're up to is worse than all the rest, isn't it?" "Yes; it is a vile business. But look here, my lad. Whether you like the job or not, you've shipped, and that means everything on shipboard. Make the best of it while you're with us; when you're away it's another thing." "If you think so badly of it," persisted Ralph, "why did you ship, Mr. Duff?" "Because, like most of the others, I went it blind for the sake of high wages. I had an idea we were on a smuggling trip. I suppose you were too green to know anything." "I left everything to Captain Gary. But I say, Mr. Duff, I think with you that it is a low, mean business." "H-s-s-h!" The mate made a warning gesture and turned away, just as Mr. Rucker thrust his bushy beard down the fore hatch, preceded by his burly legs and body. The first officer looked sharply at Ralph as the boy lay in his hammock, which he had at last slung. "You'll report for duty in the cabin tomorrow, my lad," said he. "Captain's orders. There won't be much shirking on this ship, whether or no." After the storm, the wind and weather remained fair for many days, during which the Wanderer (as she was now called) glided into the tropics, and justified her fame on the score of speed. One day a cry of "Land ho!" was raised. Half an hour later the irregular heights of the Cape Verde Islands began to be visible from the deck. But the schooner bore away to the southeast and no close view was obtained. It was a lonely voyage. Scarcely any vessels were passed, and the captain avoided these in so far as he could. It was his policy to follow a route as little traveled as possible. The glaring sun, bright skies, and even trade winds of these regions were like a new world to Ralph. At night the extreme brilliancy of the stars, framed in new and strange constellations, and the vivid play of phosphorescent waves, kept him on deck with Mr. Duff at times for hours. These two, though so widely separated by rank, were congenial in a furtive way. Perhaps the mutual knowledge that both so heartily disapproved of the object of the voyage, was a subtle link between them. Though awkward enough at first, Ralph persevered so faithfully in acquiring a knowledge of his new duties, that he slowly won the approval of every one on board, unless it might have been the captain. Gary preserved a sphinx-like attitude, never sparing the boy, never praising him, nor manifesting by any sign an atom of that feminine graciousness of manner that had on shore first won the lad over. But Ralph's growing proficiency in a seaman's tasks was such, that on Rucker's advice, he was put before the mast altogether, after one of the sailors had broken several ribs by falling from aloft during a squall. The injured man, as soon as he was able, took Ralph's place in the cabin. As they approached the African coast, alternate fogs and calms delayed their progress somewhat. The fogs were a protection from prying vessels, but the calms proved to be an unmitigated nuisance. The ocean would be like shining glass beneath a vertical shower of the sun's rays that, at times, rendered the deck almost unendurable. Awnings were stretched and for hours and even days the Wanderer would lie almost motionless, except for the impalpable swell from which the bosom of the sea is never entirely free. One dull, damp morning, when the decks were slippery with moisture and a curtain of mist veiled everything beyond a hundred yards, Ralph, who was in the foretop on the lookout, fancied that he detected a sound somewhat different from the usual noises surrounding a vessel even in a calm. They were nearing the land, as the captain's last reckoning showed, yet soundings taken not half an hour previous, had discovered no bottom at a depth of several hundred feet. Ralph called to a sailor below to ask the second mate to come forward. "Well, what now, Granger?" demanded Duff from the main deck. Ralph had hardly explained, before the mate sprang up the rigging to the lad's side. The trained ear of the officer instantly divined what might be the matter. "Down with you, Ralph," said he, hurrying to the deck himself. "Pipe up all hands and shorten sail!" he shouted to the boatswain, then emerging from the forecastle. "Lively now!" The schooner was under full canvas, with the purpose of making the most of what little air might be stirring. A moment before, the most profound repose was reigning, but with the shrill call that instantly rang out, all was changed to a scene of the most intense activity. Men came tumbling up to join the watch on deck in lowering two of the jibs, and reefing a third, while the great fore and aft sails were reduced to less than half their size in a twinkling. Orders came sharp and fast, three seamen in each top were hastily lowering and lashing the topsails, when the sound heard by Ralph, and which had rapidly increased to a sputtering roar, was split as it were by a crash of thunder. The fog melted away like a dissolving dream, showing beyond the burst of sunlight, a coppery cloud that swept the ocean to windward, driving before it a line of hissing foam. By this time captain and first mate were up. The Wanderer lay without headway, though bobbing slowly as a slight whiff of air stirred the flattened mainsail. "Meet her! Meet her, Mr. Duff!" shouted Gary, instantly realizing the coming peril. The men were tumbling from the tops, Ralph among the last, for though ordered down by the considerate mate, he returned with the others when the topsails were to be stowed. Duff and two old hands were at the wheel; others were lashing loose articles, when with a scream and a screech, the squall was upon them. At that season and on that coast, these sudden commotions are especially treacherous and full of peril. Coming, as it were from nowhere, either on the heels of fog or calm, their advent is doubly dreaded by the unwary mariner. When the blast struck the schooner, over she heeled, and in a trice the lee scuppers were seething with brine. Each man clung to something for life, as the deck sloped like a house roof. "Ease her! Ease her!" roared the captain from the main weather bobstays. "For your lives, men! Shove her nose up in the wind." The scud, as it struck the port bow, flew like shot across the deck. So acute was the shriek of the wind, even shouted orders could hardly be heard. The Wanderer, trembling like a living thing, slowly--at first almost imperceptibly--rose from the blows hammering at her sides like thunder. There was a long moment of intense, even agonizing suspense, then she began to forge ahead, buffeted, battered, heeling dizzily still to leeward, yet--saved, for the time being at least. "That was a close call, captain," remarked Duff as the two stood together five minutes later, clinging to the weather shrouds. "I should say so. Who first heard the thing coming?" "Young Granger, I believe. There's good stuff in that lad, I make bold to say." These words shouted into Gary's ear, for the squall was still at its height, caused a deep scowl to settle on the captain's brow. He turned away without a word. "Gary doesn't like that boy for some reason," was the mate's inward comment. "I wonder why?" After twenty minutes of wind so furious that the sea was fairly flattened, the squall ceased almost as suddenly as it had begun, before the great ocean billows had time to rise. But in that short interval a jib had been blown into ribbons and the foresail torn loose from its treble reefing points. A great rent was made by its violent flappings before it could be again secured. In the struggle one man was knocked insensible, so severe were the surgings of the boom, as the heavy canvas jarred the whole ship with its cannon-like reports. One result was a fair after breeze and a clear sky. The schooner bowled along at a nine knot gait, while the men worked cheerily to repair the slight injuries occasioned by the squall. That day the trailing smoke of a steamer was indistinctly seen in the southern horizon. The helm was instantly put about and the Wanderer hauled up on a northeast course, which was maintained all day. The captain and first mate took careful reckonings more than once, verifying each other's castings of their latitude and longitude. It became generally understood that land was close at hand and an air of expectancy became general on board. The succeeding night was cloudless in the earlier part. Later on a mist slowly inclosed them as they neared the coast. Ralph sat up late, for he was vaguely excited at the prospect of beholding what was to him a new world. But he gave out at last and turned in, intending, however, to be on deck at the first notice of land. Youth sleeps sound, and his next conscious sensation was that of being rudely shaken. "On deck with you, boy," said the sailor who had roused him. "Going to snooze all day?" He leaped from his hammock, and ran up the companionway. Then an exclamation of astonishment burst from his lips. CHAPTER XVII. Up the River. The Wanderer lay in a small, land locked harbor, densely surrounded by a strange and wonderful growth of forest, that completely concealed the shore behind. Near by, though hidden beyond a neck of land, one could hear the roar of breakers. At the opposite extremity, the harbor was elongated, as if some stream were entering beneath a giant growth of overhanging foliage. The little bay was no more than a quarter of a mile across, nor was there any sign of human presence other than that presented by the schooner and her crew. She was anchored mid-stream, and Ralph could perceive a sluggish, muddy current making towards an inlet that was partially concealed by several small islets, densely covered by mangroves. "Granger, I want you," said the second mate from the quarter deck. "Take three hands and make ready the ship's yawl alongside." In obedience to this, Ralph, with the requisite aid, soon had the large boat that rested amid-ships, swinging by a painter to the schooner's side. Mr. Duff then directed two pair of oars, a keg of water and some cooked provisions and bedding to be placed aboard. "I want you, Ralph, and you, Ben, to go along." The Ben to whom the mate alluded was a broadfaced Englishman, who had been the spokesman on the occasion when Gary had made known to the crew the object and destination of his voyage. He had expressed himself once or twice since then unfavorably, to his mates, and had been rebuked by Long Tom in consequence. Duff disappeared below, but soon returned with three Winchester rifles and the same number of cutlasses. He handed one of each to the other two, saying to Ralph: "I guess you can shoot, can't you? I hear you mountaineers are hard to beat with a long rifle." "I can shoot a squirrel's head off with grandfather's old gun four times out of five. But this here short, double barreled thing don't look good for much." Duff laughed, then briefly explained the purpose of the magazine and showed him how to work the mechanism. Ralph, though still dubious, said nothing, and resolved to test for himself the wonderful qualities of the modern breech loader, which the average mountaineer distrusts in proportion to his ignorance. The boy noticed that the most of the crew, together with the captain and first mate, were absent. Only Bludson, with three or four sailors, were left on board, after Duff and his boatmen were pulling towards the mouth of the river above. "Now, lads," said Long Tom, "look alive. We've got to get the hold ready against cap'n gets back with the first batch. We're rid of the squeamish ones, I reckon. 'Fore they come in with their meat we'll be loaded; that is, s'posin' they show up in time." The boatswain grinned in a knowing, mirthless way, that his assistants seemed to understand, for they responded in kind. The main hatch was then opened and an iron grating substituted. Between the main hold and the cabin was a strong bulkhead with a double door, strongly barred and padlocked. This was thrown open and a four pound howitzer mounted in the gangway in such a manner that when the upper half of the door was thrown open, the gun could rake the hold from end to end. Water butts were set up where water could be handed inside by the bucket. From store rooms on either side of the gangway, long chains with short fetters attached at intervals were brought out and stretched across the hold about seven feet apart and about a foot from the floor. Ankle cuffs that closed with spring locks were attached to these fetters. In these storerooms were placed the barrels of provisions that had deceived the lieutenant. Then Bludson and his assistants passed the next few hours in throwing overboard the ballast that had been stowed at Tybee Island in far away America. Meanwhile Duff and his companions entered the river, which seemed to be a small stream flowing deviously through a low, half swampy region, where insects swarmed and many kinds of strange animals and bird life were to be seen. Ralph, to try his Winchester, shot at a blue heron on the wing and made the feathers fly. "Try it again," urged Duff sharply. "Quick now." A second shot brought down the bird, and Ralph's opinion of breech loaders was raised at once. For several hours they pulled up stream, the mate taking his turn at the oars with the others. The trees rose to a gigantic height, while the interlacing undergrowth was at some places impenetrable. About eleven they halted, mooring the boat to a fallen tree half imbedded in the water. Deep shadows from the overhanging foliage screened them from the now scorching sunlight. After a lunch on dried beef and biscuit, the mate suggested a siesta for an hour or two until it should be cool enough to proceed. Ralph volunteered to keep watch, though there did not seem to be much necessity for vigilance. The whole vast forest and all life within its folds appeared to be steeped in tropical midday repose. "Well," said the mate, as he and Ben bestowed themselves in the bottom of the boat on some blankets, "if you get too sleepy call Ben. We'll have to cover our heads on account of these wretched gnats and mosquitos." While the two slumbered, Ralph amused himself at first by examining the mechanism of his Winchester. Tiring of this he fell into a reverie so deep that he hardly realized that he was dozing until roused to wakefulness by a slight pressure upon his hat, which was pulled forward over his eyes. His first impulse was to start up, but a long, skeleton leg with tiny claws at the end--horribly hairy in a miniature way--slowly protruded over the front brim of his headgear, sending a curdling chill through his veins as he wondered what kind of a creature its owner might be. Thoughts of the strange, poisonous insects of abnormal size, which he had read of as being common in certain warm countries, coursed through his mind. If he stirred, the thing might claw or bite, and the merest scratch was said, in some kinds of these venomous species, to be fatal. He dared not move, but lay there in a sort of physical coma, though with every nerve strung to the point of agonized apprehension. After feeling first with one claw, then another, the creature began to descend. The first touch upon his face was indescribably loathsome to Ralph, and as its round, egg-like body came in view, he closed his eyes and held his breath. Down to his breast the thing crawled, while the skin of his face prickled sharply under an imaginary pain. Then he opened his eyes and beheld a gigantic spider slowly making its way down his clothing. With a body quite as large as the egg of a hen, and legs in proportion, it moved slowly, in a groping manner, as if uncertain of its whereabouts. Ralph fancied he could see its dull, cruel eyes. He lay as if dead, until the thing had left his person, then recovered his breath and courage by a vigorous inhalation. But upon his first move the creature ran along the bottom of the boat with extraordinary rapidity, and thence along Ben's blanket and body, pausing only as it reached the sailor's now uncovered head. There it seemed to look back at Ralph, who did not dare attempt to kill it, lest it should attack Ben. To his horror the sailor stirred and opened his eyes drowsily. "Ben," whispered Ralph, "for goodness sake don't move, as you value your life. Do as I tell you. It--it may bite you, if you stir." Ben felt the creature as the boy had done. He lay shivering. Slowly the great insect turned and made its way from the sailor's neck to the flooring, then up the side of the boat. Ralph, seizing a rope's end, struck a furious blow, but missed. With lightning-like speed the spider ran up the side of the boat, sprang upon the water where it floated like a feather, and pushed towards shore. But Ben had seized an oar and now came down with a splash that sent a shower of spray about and momentarily blinded them both. "There! Look yonder, Ben!" cried Ralph. "Confound the luck!" The spider was swiftly crawling up the bank, where it quickly disappeared beneath a tussock. "That beats all the creatures I ever seen," said Ben. "He must be the great grandfather of all the spiders hereabout." Mr. Duff, also awakened by the noise, now suggested that it was time they were going on. While proceeding up stream Ralph related his own and Ben's experience with the spider, whereat the mate laughed heartily. "I am familiar with the species," said he. "True, they do look scary enough, but, strange to say, they are perfectly harmless. Instead of teeth, their mouth is supplied with a kind of suction apparatus by which they suck the blood from smaller insects. But they cannot bite, nor is their touch poisonous. There are other, smaller kinds of spiders about here, however, whose bite is fatal." "We were jist as bad scared as if it had been a rattlesnake," returned Ben. "I could feel me bloomin' hair turnin' gray when the thing was cocked upon me shoulder." Towards night they came to a dozen or more small huts made of palm leaves and elephant grass, from which issued a number of nearly naked blacks, who made the air hideous with shouts of welcome. Here was where they were to trade for fresh meat and vegetables--the object of their river trip. One tall savage, with a pair of bullock's horns as a head dress, and with his hair reeking with grease, coiled round the same, appeared to be the head man of the village. He wore a long red flannel shirt as an additional badge of dignity. The rest, men as well as women, wore little else but cloths about the loins. They were a jolly, sociable set though, and gave our party a hut to themselves, after supplying them with a bountiful supper of "mealies," bull beef, and a kind of bread made from ground maize and the grated buds of the cabbage palm. After that Mr. Duff and the chief began a laborious trade for meat and vegetables that lasted for an hour or more, and was carried on principally by signs and gestures. Some red blankets, beads, and cheap hand mirrors constituted the offers on the part of the mate. In this way several bushels of potatoes and a lot of green corn were secured and placed by the natives in the yawl. Meanwhile another party, taking torches, proceeded to a corral near by, and slaughtered a fat ox, with great dexterity. This, in its turn, was placed in the boat, after which all hands prepared to turn in. "One of us must sleep in the yawl," remarked Duff, "and I guess it ought to be the lightest sleeper." Ben volunteered, saying that he would waken, as he expressed it, "at the bat of a cat's eye." Leaving Ben in the boat with a blanket and Winchester, the other two retired to the hut prepared for their reception, and lay down, as they thought, for the night. Duff was soon asleep, but Ralph remained wakeful. To add to his restlessness he soon found his blankets alive with fleas, from which these native huts are hardly ever free. After fighting and scratching for an hour or more, he got up and returned to the open air for relief. The scene was both weird and dismal. The small clearing, densely walled in by the forest where the trees sprang nearly two hundred feet in the air, seemed to be stifling under the compression, though the feeling was but the resulting languor of a tropic night without a breeze. Sundry strange and melancholy calls issued in varying cadences from the wilderness, and an occasional splash from the river denoted the passage of some huge marine animal. Crocodiles were bellowing sullenly up stream, and from the closed huts issued the sounds of heavy slumber. He was thinking it strange that no one should remain on guard amid a life so savage and isolated as that of these simple people, when he was aroused by a touch on his arm, as he sat musing on a log before the embers of their fire. CHAPTER XVIII. A Brush in the Wilderness. Ralph leaped to his feet and presented his ready rifle. But it was only Ben. The sailor's rugged face wore a look of alarm. "I'm glad ye're up," was his first remark. "I don't like the look of things, though what's stirrin' is more nor I can make out." "What have yon seen--or heard, for that matter? One can't see much under this wall of woods all about." "Divil a bit! So I pricked up me ears for list'nin. The crocydiles kep' up such a hullabaloo I could hardly hear meself think, but somehow I caught on to the sound of paddles a goin'. Hist now! Can't 'e hear that?" They were at one edge of the village, which was not defended by a kraal, or stockade, as is often the custom where enemies are feared. The dense forest undergrowth was not over thirty yards away. They could now hear certain stealthy sounds, as of some one or something moving within the timber. "I will wake Mr. Duff," whispered Ralph. "You go back to the boat, Ben. They may see us by the fire." The sailor returned to his post. The lad soon had the mate awake, listening to his explanation of their uneasiness. "I will rouse the chief," replied Duff. "You had better rejoin Ben and wait for me there. If some enemy is really prowling around, our first duty, after alarming these people, is to defend our boat." "Hadn't I better remain with you?" suggested Ralph, with the idea that the greatest danger was in lingering on shore. "You had better obey orders, lad," returned the mate, not unkindly, however. Ralph accordingly gathered the bedding in a bundle and stole down to the boat, the bow of which was drawn upon the gravelly bank. Hardly had he reached it when a series of hideous yells issued from the forest on every side, and a rush of unknown forms could be dimly seen making for the huddle of huts near the river. Other figures of men, women, and children, naked and all but defenseless, emerged from their egg-shaped shelters, some fighting as best they could, others flying, and all apparently surrounded by a band of vociferous demons. "Ben," called Ralph, "keep the boat with your gun. I must go and see what has become of Mr. Duff." He sprang ashore, but had hardly climbed the bank when the mate appeared rifle in hand, cool and collected. "They are surprised by some predatory party of savages," said Duff. "I don't think there are much if any firearms on either side, however. I think we had better help our dusky friends, don't you, boys? They've treated us white enough." This was assented to, and the three crawled through the tall grass to the verge of the village, where more of a massacre than a battle was now going on. The villagers were taken at a sad disadvantage, and were surrounded evidently by superior numbers. The red-shirted chief was on the point of being clubbed by one tall savage, while desperately engaged with another. Ralph, seeing this, leveled his gun with a swiftness that came of long practice amid the wilds of his native Hiawassee. "Well done!" exclaimed the mate, as, after a sharp report, the negro with a club dropped his weapon and hopped away with a ball in his shoulder. "Now, let us spread out ten paces or so apart and advance. Pump the balls into 'em, boys, but don't hit our black friends." "How can we tell which is which when they're all alike as two ha'pence?" growled Ben, but he received no answer, as both Mr. Duff and Ralph were intent on the duty before them. The crack of the Winchesters soon diverted attention from the villagers to an extent that enabled them to recover somewhat from their panic. The rapid hail of balls that hardly ever missed their aim disconcerted the enemy. The three whites, acting under Duff's orders, kept back in the tall elephant grass at the edge of the huts; but also within close and deadly range. Some of the blacks had thrown wood on the fires, and the light was now sufficient to enable the raiders to be distinguished clearly by their dress and adornments. "Don't shoot to kill, if you can help it, lads," called Duff. "Maim 'em and lame 'em if you can. It isn't our quarrel you know, only as we----" Here further utterance was choked off, as a powerful negro, who had made a detour, leaped upon the unwary mate from behind as he was delivering his merciful order. The knife was uplifted as the mate felt the grip of the man upon his collar, but the blow was not struck. Ralph's Winchester cracked and the raised arm fell shattered and useless, while the knife dropped from the relaxing fingers. [Illustration: Ralph's Winchester cracked and the raised arm fell shattered and useless.] The attacked villagers, inspirited by the assistance they were receiving, fought with renewed energy. In those days repeating breech loaders were much less commonly used than in more recent years. The savages became terror stricken at guns which seemed to be always loaded. A final and despairing yell gave the signal for retreat, and in a moment or two more, none of the enemy were to be seen, except the dead and wounded left behind. Our three adventurers were then overwhelmed by the rude but expressive manifestations of thanks on the part of the villagers. The wounded were soon despatched, and it became evident to Duff, who partially understood their practices, that a cannibal feast would be next in order. The very idea sickened Ralph, though Ben announced that he had no objections to see one "black nigger eat up another." "Well, we have, if you haven't," said Duff, "so, as it is pretty near day and we're loaded, I think we had better be getting back to the ship, Captain's in a hurry to leave the coast anyhow." But when the natives heard of this determination, they one and all tried to persuade the whites to remain at least until day. The red-shirted chief pleaded almost with tears, in the very few words of English at his command. "You--me--brothers!" He pointed from Duff to himself. "You--stay. All--stay. Eat War-i-ka-ri much; eat--heap!" But when he found that all persuasion was useless, he bade his people fill the yawl with vegetables and such meat as was on hand. He would have butchered another ox, but as the boat would now hold no more, Duff with difficulty made him stop. As the whites were pushing off he came running down to the landing, bearing on his shoulder a human leg severed from the body at the hip. "Take!" he shouted, but Ralph made haste to shove the boat off. "Take!" Seeing that they would not return, he heaved the toothsome delicacy at the lad, who, instead of catching it, knocked it into the river, whereat the chief became highly excited, and evidently somewhat wroth. The last they saw of him, he and others were trying to recover it by the aid of a pole. "Isn't it horrible?" said Ralph, feeling nauseated at the idea and the sight. "They seem friendly enough, yet--they eat one another. Pah!" Duff, at the tiller, laughed. Ben shook his head as he took a fresh quid. "Many of these coast tribes are cannibals I've heard," commented the mate. "In times of famine they eat the old folks and the girl babies. Queer world, isn't it?" By the time the firelight had disappeared, and only the stars afforded a relief to the darkness, the wall of forest on either hand grew vague and indistinct. Having the current with them, their progress was more rapid than their ascent of the stream, and by the time daylight appeared they were well on their way towards the mouth of the river. Once, as they were rounding a bend, and were nearer the shore than usual, a deep, harsh, though distant roar met their ears. Ralph and Ben wondered what it was, but the mate replied by one significant word: "Lions." "I would like to see one," said Ralph. "But I thought lions were found mostly in Central and Southern Africa. At least so I've read." "Right you are. But now and then they frequent the Gold Coast. I have heard them in Natal, and down about the diamond regions. Once you hear a wild lion roar, you never forget the sound." As the sun mounted above the forest, the odorous mists that infest those regions were drawn upward, giving out as the air grew warm a sickening and malarious influence. Vast and gloomy cypress, bay, swamp palm, ironwood, and other tropical woods reared their columnar trunks, from out a dark and noisome undergrowth, to an immense height. In those leafy depths no sun ever shone, and the absence of bird life was noticeably depressing. "I hardly wonder the captain wants to get away as soon as possible," remarked Duff, as they at last neared the narrow point where the river entered the little harbor. "A week in this place and half of us would be down with coast fever." An exclamation from Ralph, who was in the bow, came next, as the yawl passed the last leafy point, and the surface of the anchorage became visible. "What now?" demanded Duff. CHAPTER XIX. Left Behind. No reply was necessary, for in another instant both the mate and the sailor comprehended the cause of Ralph's surprise and alarm. The Wanderer was nowhere to be seen. The entire surface of the small, landlocked bay was as deserted and seemingly untouched by man's presence, as if human eyes had never beheld its solitude. A glimpse of the inlet and the breakers far out on the bar beyond was visible between two islets. They could hear the monotonous thunder of the surf and discern a glassy ocean farther out, for the morning was calm, promising also to be intensely hot. The surprise of each was so supreme that for an instant nothing was said. Finally the mate, with an expression of deep perplexity on his countenance, said: "I cannot understand it at all. Let us row to the landing. Perhaps we may gain some clue to the mystery." So they pulled across to the part of the harbor where the schooner had been anchored when Duff, heading the boat for the shore, plunged them into the leafy recesses that overhung the water. Having once penetrated this outer curtain, Ralph saw they were close to a rude landing made of logs sunk endways into the oozy bottom, and floored with large canes similar to bamboo. A sort of corduroy road led into the swamp, and disappeared amid the trees. Upon a post near by was an old marlin spike with something white fluttering beneath. This attracted the mate's eye. "Here we are," said he, detaching the bit of paper. "Perhaps this will give us a little light." And he read as follows: "3 bells sekund dog watch. gOt to git out. Uncle Sam on the Lookoute. cap ses yu must shift fer yure selves." "That looks as if a fo'c'stle fist had written it," remarked Duff ruminatively. "I have felt for some time that Gary wouldn't object to being rid of a few of us." "'E's a bloomin' fool," quoth Ben, evidently feeling that this exigency had removed all restraint of speech as regarded the captain. "Wot will 'e do short handed with a hundred or more black devils aboard in case trouble comes? Barrin' I were out o' here though, I wouldn't care if I never touched a halyard of the Wanderer again." "You see," said Duff, "we three were known to disapprove of the whole business. He needed me to get over here, for I know the coast. But he can get along without me going back." "What does that mean about Uncle Sam," asked Ralph. "That is to make us think some Yankee cruiser is in the neighborhood, and that they left for safety's sake. I half believe that is a blind. But come. We must be stirring, and see if they are really gone, and also if we can cross the bar in a calm, loaded as we are. I know we can't, should a breeze spring up." Presently they were aboard again, pulling for the inlet. As they passed between a number of mangrove islets Ralph, looking down, could see an occasional shark or sawfish leisurely prodding about ten or fifteen feet below the surface. But as they neared the bar the water grew clouded, though a dark dorsal appendage thrusting itself here and there above the wave indicated the terrible result that would probably follow should the boat capsize. When they rounded the last intervening point and the open ocean was disclosed, the first object that met their eyes was the Wanderer with all sails set, about two miles in the offing. She lay motionless, for the calm was complete. "Well," remarked Duff, "we're all right if we pass the bar. There would be no trouble about that with a lighter load. We can try it as we are, for our supplies will be needed; but if necessary--over they go." They were already nearing the first line of breakers, when the mate detected a second sail to the left and much nearer the shore. This stranger was a full rigged ship hardly a mile away and to the southward, while the Wanderer was almost due west from the inlet. "She's a sailing corvette, or I'm much mistaken," said the mate, "but--mind yourselves, men! Pull with a will." The first line of breakers was passed without trouble. The second was rougher, and the men strained at the oars to give the yawl as much headway as possible. The last wave came "quartering" and threw a hatful of water into Ralph's face, whereat Mr. Duff laughed cheerily. "One ducking!" he cried. "But now comes the tug of war. Jump her, boys! Jump her, I say!" The third and last line was longer, larger, and in every way more formidable, owing to the sudden deepening of the water. Both Ben and Ralph were rather exhausted from their previous exertions, and Duff yelled himself hoarse in his repeated entreaties to: "Give way! G-g-give wa-a-a-y I tell you! Don't you see--we're gone? Keep her nose up! K-e-e-p it u-u-u-p-p! Sharks and sawfish, men! are you going to let her broach? Now then! All together, a-n-d--over she--good heavens!" A barrel or two of brine hurled over the starboard quarter choked off the mate's adjurations. But it was the last of the angry combers and the next minute the three were wiping the salt water from their faces while the yawl was riding easily on the glassy swell just beyond the bar. "Now head her for the schooner, boys," said Duff, bailing with one hand as he steered with the other. "If we hadn't had the ebb with us, we'd have had to lighten her. Now--give me your oar, Ralph. You steer. We've no time to lose, for if a breeze starts before we reach the side, I fear they're not so fond of our company but what they might give us the slip yet." "Couldn't we ship on that other vessel?" asked Ralph, by no means reluctant to change his berth to a ship less liable to the law's penalties. "We probably could," replied Duff dryly. "We probably might also have to spend several months in jail somewhere as slavers, or for aiding and abetting in the traffic. I think we'd better overhaul the schooner and wait for better times." The sun was now high in the heavens, and the growing heat already almost unbearable. They stripped to their shirt and trousers while the sweat rolled in streams from the faces of the oarsmen. While nearing the Wanderer rapidly they noticed a faint, dark line approaching up from the southeast along the line of the coast. "A wind, by thunder!" exclaimed Duff, renewing his efforts at the oar. "Look! the corvette already feels it. Give way, Ben? Gary is none too good to leave us yet if the wind reaches him before we do." Ralph, now rested, sprang forward. "Take the tiller, Ben," said he. "I'm good for a sharp pull." But the old sailor, whose muscles were like whipcord, shook his head and fairly made the yawl spring beneath his redoubled strokes. For the next three or four minutes Duff kept his eye upon the advancing line, behind which a sea of steely ripples danced in the sunlight. The cruiser, slowly heeling to leeward, veered her bow round to her course, and Duff could see the dash of water about her cutwater as she forged ahead. Still the Wanderer lay motionless, like a beautiful picture, every sail that would draw set to catch the first whiff of the breeze that was bringing the corvette slowly within range. Less than three miles separated the vessels, while the yawl, scarcely four hundred yards from the schooner, was lessening the distance rapidly. But the breeze traveled faster. Ralph could see Gary in the rigging watching the cruiser through a glass. No attention seemed to be paid to the boat. Three hundred yards--then two hundred--one hundred; and as the distance lessened their spirits rose. They were, however, half a cable length away, when a sullen boom was heard, and a solid shot came skipping along the surface of the sea to the left of the schooner. "That is an order to 'stay where you are'," remarked Duff. "Ah! here comes our wind," he added, as a cool, refreshing whiff fanned their brows. "Any other time and I would welcome it; but--come down on her, Ben!" Ralph, fancying that he saw the Wanderer's sails beginning to fill, sprang forward, seized an extra oar and pulled with all his might. The tired muscles were strained in a final effort, and the moist veins bulged about their temples. "Boat ahoy!" came from the schooner. "Look alive or we'll leave you." "Leave----" the rest of Duff's exclamation was lost as he threw his whole effort into a last spurt. The shadow of the lofty sails was towering over the yawl when the Wanderer began to glide ahead. Another gun from the cruiser, and the ball drove between boat and schooner, missing the first by but a few yards. "Boat there! Make ready for a rope!" A sailor sprang upon the taffrail and the next instant a slim line uncoiled itself over the water. Duff, springing up, caught the end on his oar blade, and by a dexterous twist brought it within reach. As he rose from making it fast, the yawl was spinning through the water in the schooner's wake, as the latter, heeling to the wind, responded like a thing of life to the wishes of those on board. Hand over hand the mate drew the heavily laden boat under the Wanderer's lee, made fast the davits as they were lowered, and a moment or two later the three tired boatmen found themselves safely on deck. When the ample supply of meat and vegetables was hoisted over the bulwarks, the few who had time to look were loud in their expressions of approval. Captain Gary hardly vouchsafed them more than a glance. To Duff, however, he briefly said: "We had warning in the night that the Adams" (a sailing vessel in the old United States navy) "was making up the coast, and we had to pull out. We're short of water. Your grub comes in handy, though." "I suppose then we might have been left, had we been a little later, or the wind had sprung up sooner." The captain shrugged his shoulders, then glowered at Ralph, who was relating his adventures to several men about the cook's galley. "When John Bull or Uncle Sam are as close as that fellow yonder, a slaver has to look out for himself. Now, Mr. Duff, you are a gunner, I understand. I want you to make ready our stern chaser. If they keep on firing we must try to cripple their sailing powers if we can. It's lucky she didn't happen to be a steamer." But Duff, already somewhat piqued by Gary's apparent indifference as to whether the yawl was picked up or not, drew himself up stiffly. "When I shipped with you, Captain Gary," he replied, "there was nothing said about my serving as a gunner. I must respectfully decline to fire on an American ship. I am too much of an American myself." Without waiting for the burst of anger which he knew would follow this mutinous(?) delivery, the second mate wheeled and made his way to the galley, where he ordered Neb to serve him breakfast in the cabin. Gary gave vent to a subdued oath or two, then bottled his wrath for a more auspicious occasion. Meanwhile the Wanderer, when once fully under way, began to evince her remarkable sailing qualities, especially in light winds. She steadily drew away from the cruiser, whose people, having obtained the range, were sending shot after shot, with a view of crippling the schooner's sailing powers. One round shot tore a great hole through the mainsail, as it went shrieking by. Gary himself, aided by Rucker, got ready one of the two guns wherewith the Wanderer was equipped and soon returned their fire, though no effect was manifest. The cruiser must have been informed of the character of the slaver, or she would not have attempted to cripple her so persistently. Duff, after eating, returned to the quarter-deck, where he watched with folded arms the rather unskillful efforts to handle the long twelve pounder pointed sternwards from the Wanderer's waist. At each discharge a chorus of cries from the hold reminded him of their living cargo, deepening still more his disgust at the nature of the venture into which he had been inveigled. The breeze began to freshen and whip somewhat to the southwest. Duff went forward to where Gary and Rucker were trying to sight the loaded gun. "Shall I have the sheets trimmed, Captain Gary," he asked. Gary surveyed the mate from head to foot with cool insolence. Then he stamped his foot. "You shall either go before the mast as a common sailor, or you can remain a prisoner in your stateroom during my pleasure. If I gave you your deserts, I'd have you clapped in irons." "As a sailor you would probably put me in irons for again refusing to fire, should you order me to; so I will go to the cabin. Take notice, however, Captain Gary, I protest against your treatment. To fire on an American man-of-war under these circumstances is piracy, and I submit that no captain has a right to issue such orders to true American seamen." Gary's fury was such that he laid hold of one of the cutlasses in the rack at the foot of the mainmast, but the screech of a shot and the crash of a splintered topsail boom, diverted his attention. Duff, laying aside his own weapon, descended to the cabin. "Up with you!" shouted the captain. "Lay out along the fo's'l gaff there. Lively now!" CHAPTER XX. Ralph Stumbles on a Discovery. Three nimble sailors were soon stretched along the slanting gaff of the great foresail, a perilous and quivering berth, with nothing for the hands to grasp but the shivering leech and shivered boom of the topsail. The crippled boom was soon lashed with pieces of spun yarn, and the damage thus temporarily repaired. Ralph, after a comfortable meal in the galley for himself and Ben, was attracted to the grating over the main hatch by the strange noises that issued thence. Shading his eyes from the light, he peered below, and through the semi-darkness saw a sight that made him heartsick and disgusted. More than ever he wished that he had never gone on this luckless cruise. The main hold was a place, perhaps sixty feet long by less than twenty-five wide. Into this "black hole," where the upright space between decks was less than seven feet, were crowded one hundred and seventy naked creatures, like hogs in a stock car. They could not lie down unless a portion stood up to make room, neither could all remain seated except by drawing up their limbs in cramping and painful postures. The odors already arising from this pit of torture were such that the lad had to turn his face away for fresh air. "It's awful!" he gasped to himself. "It's simply awful. I never had very much liking for niggers--as niggers, but such as this is enough to bring God's punishment on every one of us that have helped to bring it about. Jeemineddy! I wouldn't care much if that ship did overhaul us. Want water, do you?" This last remark was brought out by Ralph's noticing several of the negroes make signs to him as of drinking from their hands. Ralph walked straight to Captain Gary and saluted. "May I give those people below some water, sir?" he asked. "They seem to want some." "No!" shouted Gary, not sorry to vent his spleen on so inviting an object as Ralph. "We'll all be wanting water if that fellow there drives us from the coast without another chance to fill the butts. Get forward there and don't let me hear from you till you're spoken to. D'ye understand?" Ralph retreated, and Gary, after another unsuccessful trial at the cruiser's masts, gave orders to cease firing. The wind was now a stiff breeze, and the Adams was holding her own. With the rising of the sea it was probable that the larger vessel would gain on the smaller one. The cruiser also stopped firing, as the increased rolling of the ship rendered a long range shot too ineffective. For an hour or more the relative positions of the two vessels remained comparatively unchanged. If there was any advantage it was on the side of the cruiser, though the Wanderer behaved beautifully. But the wind steadily rose, and by the time eight bells was struck, and Neb announced dinner, the Adams was perceptibly gaining. "Send that boy aft," ordered Gary, and when Ralph appeared the captain said sneeringly: "You seem to think so much of those black brutes below, I guess you can help deal out their rations. Go to Long Tom." That worthy was buckling a brace of revolvers about his person, and had in his hand a sharp rawhide. Two sailors bore a great basket of corn bread and ship's hard bread. To Ralph was given a smaller one, containing meat minutely divided into about two ounce slices. "'Ere we go," remarked the boatswain, heading for the lower gangway door. At this place an armed sentinel stood day and night. As the four entered, a howl arose not unlike that of caged wild beasts. But it was more for water than for food. "Eat first; drink afterwards," said Bludson, striking lightly right and left to restrain their eagerness. "That's the law aboard here. Mind, Ralph; one bit of meat apiece--no more." One sailor bore a lantern, for the only light afforded outside of that was from the grated hatch above. Amid the half obscurity Ralph saw a jumble of swart, brutish faces and wildly gleaming eyes, and heard a babel of guttural sounds suggestive of a savage Bedlam where violence was restrained only by fear. Up and down the rows of naked forms they passed, dealing to each one a ration of bread and meat, scanty and coarse enough, yet sufficient to sustain life. Then half a pint of water was served out to each. Here the struggle to keep order was fiercest. The strong would attempt to deprive the weak of their share, and Bludson's whip was kept constantly going. Once a brawny negro made a strong effort to seize the bucket, regardless of the cowhide, when Long Tom felled him at a blow with his pistol butt, then cocking the weapon, glanced sternly around at the circle of angry faces by which they were surrounded. The negroes would have torn them in pieces had they dared, for the want of water was already rendering them desperate in that fetid hole. Ralph returned to the deck pale, nauseated, and sick at heart. The captain noticed this and it angered him, as did nearly everything which the boy now did. "Hark ye!" he growled. "D'ye think you'd like to spend all your time down there?" "I would rather be dead," said Ralph half angrily, for his whole being rebelled against the atrocity of which he was being made, perforce, one of the perpetrators. "Would, eh?" The captain eyed him with leering malevolence. "You'll mind your eye then while you're on this craft, and you'll obey orders, without a word, or--down you go among those demons for punishment. Go to my room and bring up my small glass--the double one. Stay--while you're there make up the berth and tidy things up a bit. Lively now!" Ralph went below burning with a sense of futile rage. It was useless to rebel, however, for on a ship a boy is the most helpless of creatures. As he moodily arranged things in the captain's stateroom, wondering for the hundreth time why Gary should appear to wish to persecute him after having been so courteous at Savannah, Ralph's eye fell on an open letter lying on the floor before the half open door of a small iron safe. Evidently Gary, in his haste or excitement over the approach of the warship, had left the safe in this condition. The letter had probably fallen there unnoticed. Ralph picked it up, intending to lay it on the table, when a certain familiarity in the handwriting struck him as peculiar and he started to read the contents. "My dear Cousin:--" it began; but after getting thus far the boy threw the sheet down upon the table. "Why should I be reading the captain's letters?" thought he, and a flush of shame crept momentarily to his forehead. "And yet--it doesn't seem to be the one I gave him." He remembered that Shard had mentioned an intention to write Gary by mail. As Ralph hesitated, a desire strengthened within him to read further, despite the monitions of conscience. A vague idea that the strange and contradictory behavior of Gary might be explained was perhaps at the bottom of the lad's mental persistence. He hesitated until his fingers burned, then made a sudden grasp at the letter. CHAPTER XXI. At Close Quarters. Without giving himself time to think, Ralph now read as follows: My Dear Cousin: If he does not get lost on his way you will be apt to see an awkward country boy in Savannah in a day or two, who is quite anxious to go to sea. I have recommended him to apply to you, and you will do me a great favor, not only to take him, but to see that he never comes back. Mind you--no violence. I know your devilish temper. But you can either wear him out with hard work, or leave him in Africa, or get rid of him in some way which may gratify the hatred which I and mine have felt for his whole generation for years, and yet avoid difficulty with the law. We have enough to contend with as it is, in our Cuban venture. Frankly now, if you wish any more cash advances from me, you must see to this lad, and contrive to make something out of this cargo of live stock. Shipping wild niggers is growing riskier every year, especially as Cuba and Brazil (our only markets left) threaten to free their slaves. Look sharp, dodge all warships, and attend to that brat of a boy. I have soft soaped him by giving him a letter to you which you will interpret by this. Your Cousin, Theodore Shard. Ralph's first hot impulse was to go up and make known to Gary that he now saw through the eccentricities of the latter's behavior, and that Shard's treachery was also known. A second thought convinced him that such a course in the captain's present mood, would most likely, only precipitate some act of violence of which he would be the victim. Ralph now saw why he had been sent up the river on a perilous errand, and why he and his companions were so readily deserted on the first inkling that a sloop of war was near. Gary's unchanging severity and dislike were explained, and as the boy contrasted his present treatment with the honeyed manner which had so deceived him in Savannah, he felt that he was justified in using any means to counteract such methods. As he flung the letter down, a slight noise made him turn. Duff was standing at the door. Ralph, feeling that here was his best friend aboard, resolved to acquaint the mate with all that had occurred relating to Shard's and Gary's conspiracy against himself. This he did as briefly as possible, clinching his remarks by holding out the letter. "I won't read it, though it's right enough you should, seeing it concerns your safety," replied Duff. "I'm in disgrace, too, so it might be a good plan for us to stick together--for self preservation, I mean. We don't want to hurt any one, unless they try to hurt us. We're scarce in water, and that cruiser ain't going to let us back to the coast again. You can bank your life on that. "Captain is in his worst mood, and he ain't likely to get better. He'll begin on the crew next. They say he is a perfect fiend for punishment once he gets mad all through. These poor niggers will keep him half crazy as their want of water grows, and the hot calms strike us in the doldrums. It's my frank opinion, lad, that we'll be having a little floating place of torment of our own here before many days have passed." The captain's voice hurled down the companionway, interrupted them harshly. "He wants his glass," said Ralph, seizing the instrument in question. "I must go." "Well," concluded Duff as he returned to his own stateroom, "lay low and look out for squalls. That's all we can do at present." When Ralph returned to the deck the wind was stiffening to a gale, and half a dozen men were putting a single reef into the mainsail, while several more were laying out along the bowsprit doing the same office for one of the jibs. The outermost one, called the flyaway, was being furled, though the sailor stretched out upon the stay beneath the bowsprit was drenched by each downward plunge of the schooner's bow. The Adams still carried a heavy press of canvas, though black specks of men could be seen on the yards shortening the loftier sails. The larger vessel rode the rising seas more easily, and had already come within close range. Gary seized the glass and leveled it at the cruiser, then at the southwestern horizon, where a dull gray film of vapor was settled upon the sea. He handed the glass to Rucker and swore impatiently. "If we have half an hour more of this wind we're gone up," he growled. "Our only chance is a fog." A puff of smoke belched from the port bow of the warship. "They understand what that fog might do for us as well as we do," remarked Rucker, as a shell exploded some distance to leeward. "They'll get the range in a few minutes, and when one of those twelve pound bombs explodes in our tops----" "They see that solid shot won't do," interrupted Gary fiercely. "It is quick work they are after." Down in the hold the labored pitching of the schooner was adding seasickness to the sufferings of the poor wretches there. Doleful cries resounded, among which one at all conversant with their language would have heard calls for water predominate. At night, when darkness reigned, the misery of such a scene would be augmented. Several shells were fired by the cruiser, each one coming nearer to the mark, until at last an explosion just forward of the foretopmast shivered a double throat block, and down came the foresail, the leech trailing in the sea as it fell. Another piece of the shell tore off a sailor's arm, and still another disabled one of the boats. Orders from the captain came thick and fast; men flew hither and thither to repair the damage; while the wounded man lay writhing and neglected for some time. The Adams all at once slowly yawed, being within easy range, as the Wanderer lay helpless with her nose in the wind's eye. "Look out!" shouted Rucker. "She's making ready to give us a broadside." "Lively there, men!" roared Gary, nearly frantic. "Do you want to spend a year or so in a Yankee jail?" A redoubled roar from the cruiser followed, and a small tempest of iron hurtled around them. One shot passed through the after hold, terrifying anew the negroes, who yelled fearfully. A rent or two in the sails was all the damage beside, that was inflicted. Ralph, who was assisting to reeve a new block at the foretop, saw that the fog was almost at hand. But before it came a change of wind; preceding which, as the southeaster died, there were a few moments of calm. The lull reached the Wanderer first, and the cruiser, swinging to her course, forged so far ahead that, before the schooner could again hoist her foresail, the Adams rounded to, less than half a mile away and presented a frowning row of shotted guns to the slaver's stern. It was a fair raking position. Rucker threw down his speaking trumpet in despair, though Gary's eyes were fixed keenly upon the advancing fog. A signal for the slaver to lie to was followed by a peremptory shot athwart the schooner's bow. At the same time a boat was lowered away, filled with armed men, and started towards the Wanderer. "Heave to, men!" ordered the captain. "But be ready to hoist the fo's'l when I give the word. Down with your helm--down, man!" This to the man at the wheel. "We mustn't give those fellows any cause to suspect us--now." While the boat approached, it was at times lost in the hollows of the seas, but always rose again nearer than before. Meanwhile the Wanderer lay to, with her mainsail flattened and her topsails aback. Apparently she was merely awaiting the arrival of the cruiser's boat to surrender herself. Many on board thought so now, and, in certain quarters, bitter were the grumblings over their "hard luck." All this time Gary, standing at the compass, alternately watched the cruiser and the approach of the fog, while the schooner, deprived of headway, rolled in seeming helplessness in the trough of the sea. "Lad," said Ben to Ralph as the two slid down the ratlines when their task aloft was done, "I almost wish we were back among those bloody niggers ashore. 'Twould be better than standin' trial for bein' caught on a blackguard of a slaver--bad luck to her." "We must make the best of it," began Ralph, when Gary's voice interrupted him. "Hoist away there, men!" cried the captain, brandishing his arms furiously. "Up with that fo's'l! Up with it, I say! Ease away on those tops'ls. Lively now! Haul away on that jib. Flatten 'em, boys!" The men worked like demons, for on the instant they apprehended the daring nature of Gary's maneuver. Rucker, seizing the trumpet, echoed the captain's orders in stentorian tones. It was not until the schooner fell off broadside that these actions were noticeable to those on the warship. But she could not now fire without endangering her own boat, which was scarcely fifty yards from the slaver. So nicely had Gary calculated, that the breeze bearing the fog struck the Wanderer's sails just as she was trimmed to fall off. The cruiser, stricken by the brief calm which had previously palsied the schooner's movements, lay helpless in a double sense, being unable to either move or fire. "Make ready to go about," said the captain to the first mate, who bellowed the order through his trumpet. They were nearly abreast of the cruiser's boat, which, seeing at once what was up, fired an ineffectual volley of small arms as the Wanderer gracefully swept by, hardly a pistol shot off. "About ship!" said Gary quietly. "Hard a lee!" sang out the mate, and as the schooner rushed up into the wind, Gary, walking to the stern, kissed his hand satirically to the officers in the boat. "I've a notion to sink you," he muttered. "One solid shot would do the business; but perhaps 'twill be best for us to get away, doing as little damage as possible. It might be safer in case of subsequent trouble with the authorities." Close hauled upon her other tack, the schooner was heading diagonally towards the fog which was just at hand, like a dense, advancing wall. As they drew away from the boat the cruiser began to fire one gun after another. Each discharge sent apprehensive thrills through the slaver's crew. Finally a whole broadside of the warship's upper battery came shrieking over the water. CHAPTER XXII. Trouble of Another Kind. "That was a close call," exclaimed Rucker, as a shot cut away one of the jib stays, carrying down the flying jib. Even as he spoke the film of the fog enveloped them, and though the sloop of war continued to fire, her shots did no further damage, for the Wanderer almost immediately lost sight of her pursuer. Gary then had the course altered to disconcert the aim of the corvette, which soon after ceased firing. The breeze that bore the fog with it, was a light one, and as the mist was liable to rise at any time the captain made the most of his opportunity by carrying all the sail he could spread. He dared not return to the coast, bad as he needed water; for the alarm once given, other cruisers would be on the watch there. So he determined to make for the Cape Verdes, and risk the chance of being able to water in those islands. Should no prying war ships happen along he anticipated little difficulty. The day wore away slowly. It was about an hour by sun in the afternoon before the fog began to lift. A sailor was at each mast head watching for the Adams, as the course of the corvette was entirely unknown. "Sail ho!" sang out one of these lookouts as the mist, rolling eastward, began to show a clear horizon towards the north. In a minute both captain and mate were aloft. There was the Adams about four miles away, and somewhat astern to the lee quarter. Almost at the same time the Wanderer was observed from the cruiser, as the latter began to pile up her canvas with a rapidity that evinced a sudden cause therefor. As the mate returned to the deck Gary called: "Ease away, Mr. Rucker. We've got just the wind that suits us, and I think we have the advantage this time." With the light breeze that continued, and with the sheets free, the Wanderer was at her best. By the time the sun went down it could be seen that the war ship was losing ground. When night closed in she was fully five miles astern. With a heavier wind the advantage would have been on her side, but as it was, when morning dawned the Adams was not in sight. After that came several days of light, baffling winds, alternating with calms. The sun, as they drew nearer the equator, became more and more unbearable. In the close hold the heat and stench were frightful. The constant cries for water rendered the crew nervous and the captain irritable. He now punished the men severely for the slightest infraction of duty. "If we don't reach the Verdes," said Duff to Ralph one day, as the lad was sweeping the cabin, "there will be an outbreak of some kind. Come to the gangway and listen." The second mate, who still remained below--his place being taken by Bludson after a fashion--now led Ralph to the grated door where stood the loaded howitzer. The sentry was not there; another sign of the crew's demoralization. He had slipped into one of the store rooms, now left unlocked, to tap a water butt unseen, for all hands were on short water rations. When Duff and the boy halted, they could hear a sort of rasping sound from underneath like the boring or cutting of wood. "What is that?" asked Ralph. "Mischief," said the mate sententiously. "Those wretches in the hold are up to some trickery. These stupid sentries are too dull or careless to investigate. They are crazy for water in there, and it is my opinion they have got hold of something and are trying to cut a way out--God knows where!--perhaps through the bottom of the vessel." "Suppose you tell the captain." "He is that obstinate he'd simply curse me, and probably give no heed. But some one else might speak with better effect." "Do you think I had better?" Ralph spoke doubtfully, realizing that he also was no favorite with Gary. "You might bring it about in some way. I certainly owe Captain Gary no favors, yet I should hate to stand by and see those fiends cut their way out, and say nothing. They would murder every soul on board." Later on, Ralph found a chance to tell the captain what Duff had told him. Gary's scowl deepened. "Duff told you this, did he?" demanded the skipper suspiciously. "Out with the truth." Ralph acknowledged that the second mate was his informant. "Stuff! Haven't we a sentry there constantly?" "But the sentry isn't always at his post, so Mr. Duff says. He was away today when we heard the noises." "And you heard them, too! The mate tattling to the cabin boy, and both peaching on the poor sentry, who is, I dare say, more trusty than either one of you two. Go forward, and stay there until you are bidden back. Rank mutiny, by thunder!" Gary stamped his foot, more with the air of one demented than that of a sane and sober commander. Indeed the situation was sufficiently grave without this new complication. Several of the negroes had already died, and more were down helpless beneath the feet of their thirst-tortured but more able-bodied fellow sufferers. The howls and lamentations that continually ascended through the grating were trying to the nerves, aside from considerations of profit and loss. The combined effect on Gary was to render him more unreasonable and tyrannical than ever. Oh, for more wind! They were hardly up into the trades yet, and at that season, even the trades were uncertain. But it was certain that unless enough favorable wind did come, and come soon, they would hardly reach the Cape Verdes in time. Already crew, negroes and all, were down to one pint of water to the man every twenty-four hours. In that hot and stifling weather their tortures grew almost unbearable. One night Rucker, happening to want a night glass, left the deck for a moment to go below for it, and passing close to the sleepy sentry, he heard the same sounds which had aroused Duff's suspicions. After Ralph's rebuff the second mate had made no further attempt to have the thing investigated. "What's that?" said he sharply to the sailor, who sat leaning against the bulkhead, but the man made no answer. Rucker shook him sharply, and at the same time scented the odor of liquor about the fellow. "Wake up. What have you been drinking? What noise is that?" But receiving only unintelligible replies, and having to return immediately to his watch on deck, he reported the circumstances to the captain, who broke into a storm of invective. Rucker discreetly withdrew. Shortly thereafter Duff heard from his stateroom an uproar in the gangway. Looking out, he saw the captain standing over the prostrate form of the sentry, whom he had knocked down with the man's own gun. One of the storeroom doors was open. "I see now!" foamed Gary, nearly beside himself. "You fellows on watch have been tapping this rum barrel night and day, I reckon, and mischief going on right under your feet. But I'll even you up. Where is the bo's'n?" Receiving no answer to this last shouted demand, Gary sprang up the stairway, leaving the insensible sentry stretched upon the floor. Duff, still watching from his stateroom through the open cabin door, saw a gaunt, dusky face thrust itself from the storeroom and peer wildly round. Other faces joined it, and in an instant a dozen naked black forms were crowding the gangway. They saw Duff. Several made for him, brandishing short chains from their fetters, which they had managed somehow to loosen and sever. Others beat the sentry's brains out, and overthrew the howitzer. The noise thus made, and Duff's loud calls to alarm the ship, caused Rucker and one or two seamen to run hastily down the companionway. Being unarmed they were forced into the cabin or back up the gangway, by a horde of frantic savages, who were being continually reinforced from the hold by way of the two holes, which they had somehow cut through the bulkhead into the storeroom, where among other things, was the barrel of rum. The drinking must have been going on secretly for a day or two. In fact others of the crew were now discovered to be tipsy, and that the officers had not found it out before was doubtless owing to the growing laxness of discipline, despite the captain's severity. Gary, accompanied by Bludson and others, now appeared, armed with pistols and cutlasses; but the door leading into the hold was already broken down. Scores of half crazy negroes swarmed into the gangway, bearing back the whites by sheer weight of numbers, notwithstanding the weapons of the crew. Revolver and cutlass played an active part, but the slaves seemed absolutely indifferent to life. When one was shot down, half a dozen took his place. Even the few women fought like tigresses. The truth was they were crazed for want of water. In the cabin, Rucker and one seaman had been literally torn limb from limb. The remaining man escaped into the captain's room. Duff, who was without weapons, clambered through the stern window of his room, and gained the deck by way of the vessel's stern post and a rope thrown him by Ralph, who had been summoned to the wheel when the alarm was given. The lad was chafing at his inactivity. "There's hardly any breeze," said Duff. "Lash the wheel, my lad, and bear a hand. If those niggers gain the deck we're gone up sure." It was but the task of a moment to obey, seize a cutlass from the rack and follow the mate to the companion-way, where Gary and what was left of the men with him were being forced up the steps. The captain was covered with blood from a scalp wound, but he was equal to several ordinary men. Skillfully parrying the blows directed at his life, he had laid more than one burly savage low. But the number and fury of the yelling crowd were irresistible. Seizing the weapons of their dead and wounded assailants, they fought with the blind energy of desperation. "Batten down the main hatch," called Gary, seeing Duff and Ralph. "Bludson is gone, but we can hold them until you return." The order was swiftly executed. Then the second mate and Ralph, assisted by one sailor, brought forward the heavy storm covering of the after companion-way and placed it in readiness. A charge down was then made and the negroes driven back a little. "Now, men," cried Gary, springing up to the deck, at the rear of his men, "down with it! Jump on it, and batten her--batten her!" With both hatches thus secured, they were in undisputed possession of the deck, though the whole interior of the ship, except the forecastle, was at the mercy of the negroes. The triumphant howls of the latter were deafening. Suddenly a shriek was heard. The savages had entered the captain's stateroom and fallen upon the sailor who had taken refuge there. On deck Gary counted his help. He found that besides Bludson and Rucker five sailors were missing. His available force, including himself, Duff and Ralph, amounted only to ten. Two of these were desperately wounded, one having his throat actually torn by the teeth of the cannibals below. The arms were mostly on deck, but the ammunition, provisions, and most of their scanty supply of water was below. They were in a terrible situation. What deed of desperation the negroes might do it was impossible to tell. There were matches; they might fire the ship. There was the rum; they might still gain the upper hand of all, when nerved and further crazed by liquor. Two lanterns shed a melancholy light fore and aft. The wind had died away and the heavens were sprinkled with stars. Gary placed two men fully armed, at each hatch, then called the rest to the quarter-deck for a consultation. He was calm, cool, yet heartless and vindictive as ever. Without caring for the men already sacrificed, he seemed only anxious to save his vessel and as many of his mutinous victims as he might now be able to carry into port. For Duff and Ralph he, even now, scarcely veiled his dislike as he sat upon the hatch, binding his wounded head with a handkerchief. But before much was said, a sailor ran back crying: "This way! This way! The fiends are after us again." CHAPTER XXIII. Adrift. Seizing their weapons, the wearied men ran forward to the forecastle, where the negroes had nearly cut another hole through the bulkhead separating the crew's quarters from the hold. One of the main hatch guards was holding them at bay, and had managed to seize the implement with which they had gained their liberty, from the savage who happened to be using it last. It was part of an old hand saw, that had, by some neglect, been left unnoticed on the floor of the hold. Several shots drove back the blacks, then the hole, which was a small one, was nailed up and another guard stationed. Gary's next move was to order the two sound boats lowered and attached by ropes to the side. He was impressed by this last effort of the blacks that the worst might happen, and that they had better be prepared. Once the horde of savages gained the decks, the vessel would afford no refuge to their hated oppressors. The night was somewhat advanced. In the horizon a few darker spaces denoted the presence of clouds, though all above was clear. The Wanderer's sails hung limp, unless now and then a feeble expansion caused by some desultory puff be excepted. Gary divided the remainder of the men into two watches, one of whom he caused to lie down on deck for a little rest, with their arms at their sides. Below, amid the darkness, a single light shone from the cabin. Some one of the blacks, evidently acquainted with the use of matches (through traders or missionaries, doubtless), had found a way of lighting the cabin lamp. Pandemonium reigned there. Inflamed by rum, furious efforts were made from time to time to burst through the hatches. Along towards morning, however, a certain degree of quiet began to prevail. Perhaps the negroes were growing weary. A light breeze had arisen that sent the schooner ahead. Gary had determined to make for the nearest port, provided they could hold out to reach it. He saw no chance to do aught to subdue and confine the blacks with his reduced force. If they saved the vessel and their own lives, they would do more than some of them expected. One of the boats was chafing against the weather side of the ship. Gary directed Ralph to drop both boats astern and fasten one behind the other. The boy obeyed, climbing down into the first boat in order to attach the second to its stern. He made, as he thought, a half hitch of the painter, then, drawing the second boat close to the first, he stepped into it, and began bailing out the water that had filtered in through the seams shrunken by exposure to the sun on the schooner's deck. As he worked away, thoughts of his mountain home intruded strangely, perhaps incongruously, upon his mind. Looking eastward a narrow rim of moon was protruding over the ocean's rim. Something reminded him of the way it used to rise above "Old Peaky Top," just back of the cabin on Hiawassee. He straightened himself to obtain a better view. A sharp report rang out behind him from the vessel, and he felt a numbness under his shoulder. "Reckon they must be trying to get out again," he muttered, glancing at the ship's stern. He was then sensible of a dizziness and a roaring in his ears. A black savage face was glaring upon him from the window of the captain's stateroom, from whence protruded the barrel of a rifle. After that his sight grew dim; something wet trickled down on one of his hands, and outward things became a blank. His last sensation was a comfortable kind of sleepiness. When Ralph came to himself he was lying in the bottom of the boat with his head jammed uncomfortably under one of the thwarts. As he scrambled up, his first thought was of what the captain would say to his falling asleep in that way. But instead of rising, he stumbled and fell. Then he realized that it was morning and that he was unaccountably weak. Pulling himself up again with more care, he stared around for an instant, then sank back against the thwart. The Wanderer was nowhere to be seen. After another moment he pulled himself up on the seat, in order to assure himself that he was not dreaming. What his eyes had told him was a fact. He was alone in that little boat, with not a sail or other sign of man's presence anywhere within view. The surprise held him mute and breathless at first, then he began to wonder how he came to be left in such a plight. His left arm felt stiff and sore. Looking down, he saw the blood had dried on his left hand, while under that shoulder something smarted with every movement. It came to him then. The report, the numbness, the fleeting glimpse of that savage face, and the gun barrel, were now accounted for. "While I was mooning away about grandfather and home, that fellow shot me. Lucky he didn't strike closer. But how did I get loose?" Examination showed him the painter trailing idly in the water alongside. He must have made that half hitch carelessly. During his swoon it had worked loose. His friends on board had doubtless had their attention too much taken up by the blacks, to give heed to him. The whiffs of air had slowly swept the schooner out of sight and he had lain senseless until daylight. "I am surely in a bad fix," he reflected. "Wounded--in an open boat--without an oar, or a bite to eat or drink." He had read enough of the perils of the sea to comprehend the terrible possibilities of his situation, and at first his blood chilled and his courage sank. Resolute as he was by nature, there was a deadly difference between the loneliness of his present condition and the solitude of his native mountains. In the woods he was at home; he knew where to go to find people there--but here! In his weakened condition tears started to his eyes. But he soon dashed them away, and, rising, set about dressing his wound. He removed his jacket and shirt, and bathed the wound with ocean water, as he knew that salt was good to allay possible inflammation. The bullet had grazed his side just under the shoulder, making a painful though not a dangerous injury. "Lucky it didn't lodge," he thought, as he tore up his handkerchief and bound up the place by passing the bandage over his opposite shoulder. A good deal of blood had flowed both down his arm and side. This accounted for his present weakness. After resuming his clothes, he sat down to consider the situation. There was a light breeze from the northeast, with a straggling fleece of clouds, expanding like a fan towards the zenith. Ralph knew that the appearance indicated more wind, but he determined not to borrow trouble from the future. A slow, majestic heaving of the ocean, on which the yawl gently rose and fell was counter crossed by the shorter ripples stirred up by the light wind then blowing. The dead swell evinced the neighborhood of some previous gale. "I might as well search the lockers," he said to himself. "There might be something eatable in them." There was nothing to eat aboard; but in the locker at the stern he discovered a small keg filled with water, overlooked probably when the boat was unloaded, for it was the same craft in which the trip up the African river had been made. "That's a good find," he ejaculated. "Crickey! what is this?" He drew forth from under the bow a strip of canvas and an old rusty hatchet. The possession of these articles raised his spirits for a time, so that he set to work to rig up a sort of jury mast and sail. There were three thwarts. From one of these he managed to split two pieces some six feet long without impairing its strength as a brace to stiffen the boat. He lashed the three together with a few bits of spun yarn from his pocket, making a mast nearly ten feet long. Next he split from the other thwarts a piece or two for a boom, then he turned his attention to the sail. Part of the canvas he tore into strips, and by the help of these he manufactured a sort of lug sail of sufficient size to keep the boat steady in a seaway, and in running with a fair wind to make two or three miles an hour. To step and wedge the mast with the aid of the hatchet and more splinters from the thwarts, did not take long. The only thing that bothered him was the main sheet, or--to explain--the rope which should hold the sail taut and trim. His eye happened to rest on the knot of the painter where it was fastened to a ring bolt at the bow. He drew the wet line aboard, untied the knot and soon had his main sheet fastened to the boom. There was a cleat near the tiller and Ralph, hauling in, brought the yawl a little up in the wind and soon had the craft under headway. "By jolly!" he exclaimed, "but this isn't so very bad, after all. If I only knew where to head now, I might strike the Cape Verdes. I suppose I might hit Africa if I went east long enough; that is, supposing I didn't capsize or founder, or starve, or something. Heigho! How weak I feel. Believe I'll take breakfast." So he took up the keg and drank heartily, for his wound had made him slightly feverish. "I must touch it lighter than this," he said as he put down the keg. "Lord only knows when or where I will get it filled again." As the sun came up, a flaming red ball, the wind slowly increased. Ralph, though by no means experienced in boat sailing, had learned how to steer. The sail was too small and weakly fastened to render it liable to endanger the safety of the craft and for a time the interest aroused by the novelty of sailing by himself kept his spirits up. But in an hour or so he felt weary. The sea had slowly risen so that an occasional dash of water flew over the bow whenever he headed in the least to windward. "What is the use of tiring myself out?" he thought at last. "It don't make any difference where I go, or whether I go at all." So he unstepped his mast, stowed it in the boat's bottom, and lay down on the sail. The sun dazzled him and he drew his hat over his eyes. Probably his wound and weakness made him drowsy, for he fell asleep. When he again awoke the sun was nearly overhead. The hot glare was stifling. His very clothing seemed to burn his flesh. He staggered to his feet and looked around the horizon wearily. Suddenly his eyes brightened and his whole figure became animated and eager. CHAPTER XXIV. Ralph's Sufferings. Low down in the northwestern horizon was a faint speck of white. Everywhere else the blue of the sky and ocean was unrelieved. The "mares' tails" of clouds had disappeared and the sea was a gently heaving plain of glass. "A sail!" exclaimed the boy. "It must be a sail." He hurriedly set up his mast again and hastened back to the tiller. But there was no wind; the canvas hung limp, while the sun was broiling the paint on the little forward deck. "I don't suppose they can see me," thought he dejectedly. "It must be only their topsails that I see, and so small a boat as this would be invisible. Perhaps if they had a glass at the mast head, they might find me. Oh, if I only had a wind!" Reflection, however, convinced him that a breeze would be as apt to carry the strange vessel off as to bring it nearer, so he was fain to sit still and idly watch the tiny dot of white, which meant so much, yet might do so little. The isolation of his position pressed upon him harder than ever. He felt, for a time, that if that elusive bit of white should disappear he would certainly break down. The heat and glare in the air added to his misery, and he took another drink from the keg, despite his previous abstemious resolve. "I just can't help drinking," he said to himself in justification of his act. "I reckon it's the wound makes me burn so." For a long while matters remained much the same, except that his hunger increased and his general state of discomfort grew to a point that rendered his exposure to the sun's rays unbearable. He would have taken his sail and made some sort of awning but for the faint hope that it might be seen. He crawled under the bow, where the deck sheltered the upper half of his person, and found some relief. From time to time he crept out and, standing on the thwarts, watched the unchanging speck of white, with longings which at times were almost akin to despair. Towards the middle of the afternoon, after a longer stay beneath the deck than usual, he heard a slight thump against the side of the boat. Scrambling up, he saw that a light breeze had arisen, sending little ripples over the sea. The wind was fair towards the distant sail, and Ralph again stepped his mast and trimmed his sheet, while his heart beat fast. If he could only get near enough to the stranger to be recognized! But his progress was slow and many times the distant spot would disappear momentarily, sending painful thrills through his veins. Then, when it was visible once more, the sense of relief was almost as hard to bear, so greatly were his nerves wrought up. After a time it seemed to him that the sail was growing larger. At first he doubted, then became assured of that fact. He rose and shouted in sheer exultation. For a time the white spot increased in size until he felt that he would certainly be seen a moment or two later. But that longed-for moment did not come. At last he perceived that the stranger was sailing at right angles to his own course, which would naturally expose to his view a larger expanse of sail. Would he be able to forge far enough ahead to be recognized? The period of suspense was almost an agony; nor was the after conviction that the ship was slowly but surely leaving him, as she passed on her course, much more painful by comparison. But as long as she was in sight Ralph sailed on. He could not voluntarily give up even the last glimpse of what appeared to be the only link connecting him with his fellow creatures. But as the dot of white was finally lost to view, he sank to the boat's bottom in despair, letting the sail flap listlessly and the tiller swing unguided. "It is no use," he faltered, as his eyes momentarily filled under a sinking feeling of utter loneliness. "I might as well give up." But pain is at times a great reviver. As hope dwindled, the irritation of his wound and the gnawing of his stomach forced their discomfort upon his attention. He drank again, and later on, again, with a persistent disregard of future consequences which only the overwhelming disconsolation of his situation could have inspired. The wind stiffened and at last he was obliged to take down his sail, out of sheer lack of energy to continue his battle with fate. He lay down under the bow for a long time. The pitching of the yawl increased. Finally a larger sea than usual sent nearly a barrel of water over the deck, that streamed down upon his legs. Fear roused him to action once more. He began bailing frantically with his hat, and soon had the boat dry again. As he remained aft, no more seas were shipped, though the wind was increasing, and by certain signs he felt that rougher weather might be imminent. Clouds were rising, and though he did not like their appearance, it was some relief when they shaded him from the now declining heat of the sun. As night approached, the wild waste of waters looked terribly stern and forbidding. Occasionally a distant breaking of some white capped wave would send his heart into his mouth, only to sink again despairingly. Just at sunset the great luminary peered gloriously forth. Torturing as was its power at midday, now it seemed to Ralph as if a friend were bidding him farewell. When the last of its golden surface had vanished, he felt as if that friend had departed, never to return, at least to him. For hours he sat after that, while a gloom as of death settled over the ocean, broken only by the plash of waves and the constant creaking of the yawl as it rolled and pitched in the trough of the sea. Once a shower of rain, accompanied by a slight flurry of wind, set him to trembling, as he remembered the fury of the squalls in those latitudes. He felt that his frail shallop would never live through one. Though in the tropics, he became chilly as the night advanced, while the pain of hunger was but partially eased by the drafts of water of which he still partook from time to time. He finally lay down in the stern and wrapped himself in the sail. The pitching and rolling soon sent him to sleep, in a merciful relief to the gnawing sense of misery that now never left his mind while awake. A ship's yawl, being both broad and deep, is one of the safest of small boats in a seaway. Therefore Ralph passed the hours in temporary security while unconscious. Unless a gale should rise, there was little danger of his craft's swamping, nor, except from hunger, was his physical situation any worse than during the day. The most appalling thing connected with such a position was the feelings which it must necessarily arouse, and until day Ralph was exempted from these. When he rubbed his eyes at dawn he lay there dreading to rise. The loneliness of the sea renewed its terrors at once, and he feared to look upon a scene of which he was the sole living element. "I'm getting to be a regular baby," he said aloud. "I wonder what grandfather would say could he see me now. I am at least away from that old feud, if I never was before." This allusion led him into a reverie upon the strangeness of the fate that had led him half across the world in order to free himself from a senseless quarrel, and to be pursued by it to an extent that had left him free from its influence only when he was facing death in his present forlorn condition. He had been sent to Shard, whom he should have avoided as a relative of the Vaughn faction. Shard had sent him to Gary, while Gary, five thousand miles away, was wreaking upon the boy all the hatred inspired by the haters of his family far back in the Southern mountains. At last he raised his head and peered out upon the watery waste. As his gaze swept from one side to the other an exclamation of amazement dropped from his lips and he sprang to his feet. Scarcely a quarter of a mile away was the Wanderer, with her sails all spread and flapping idly from side to side as she rolled gently upon the dead swell of the sea. The wind had died away and the slaver lay between the yawl and the eastern dawn, a dim yet recognizable bulk. Her dark, graceful proportions were not to be mistaken. "This beats the nation!" was Ralph's next ejaculation. "This is what one might call pure luck. Now if I only had a pair of oars." Not having any, he tried his sail, but found the attempt useless, and he was compelled to sit there thrilling with impatience to be aboard once more. Finally, as he was about to rise and shout, he noticed something white being waved from one of the stern windows. While he was puzzling his brain over the meaning of this, a line of black heads appeared above the bulwarks, and sundry black, naked forms ran up the rigging. At the same time a chorus of barbaric yells rang out, that chilled the boy's blood, even at that distance. "I wonder if the blacks have got possession of the ship at last," and with the thought his heart sank as he realized the certain death to all in case such a thing had taken place. "If this be so, they have undoubtedly killed every white aboard." Ralph's situation now became doubly trying. To venture to board the schooner might prove his destruction. To remain in the yawl was to court a lingering and terrible death. Already the pangs of hunger were almost unendurable. He drank from the keg, then measured the contents with a splinter. It was half empty. Twenty-four more hours of this and then---- "Come what will," he resolved, "I shall try to board the vessel. One may as well die one way as another." After some reflection he took apart his mast and used the six foot strips as oars, finding that he made a little progress, though the task was fatiguing and the movement exasperatingly slow. Meanwhile the noise on the Wanderer grew hideous. The idle, untrimmed manner in which the sails swung, was a fearful indication that the untrained negroes were masters. When within two hundred yards he took a careful survey. The whole deck and the lower rigging were alive with blacks shouting, gesticulating, acting more like lunatics than sane beings. Something at the stern window again attracted his notice. It was a handkerchief being waved. He answered the signal by waving his hat. Then to Ralph's surprise and delight a white face was cautiously protruded. "I'll help that man off or die for it," was his next thought as he bent once more to the task of rowing. Had not the ocean been calm he would have made no headway. As it was, when he drew up some thirty yards from the schooner's stern, he was for the moment completely exhausted. Turning round, he recognized with joy the pale blood-stained face at the window. "In heaven's name!" cried the boy. "What has happened? Are any more of you alive?" CHAPTER XXV. The Second Mate's Story. The face at the window was that of Jacob Duff, the second mate. He shook his head in a melancholy way and beckoned with his hand. "Come a little closer. The blacks are drunk and have exhausted their ammunition. The magazine is in the lower hold, double locked and they haven't found it yet." Ralph slowly pulled under the stern where he would be protected from missiles. Over his head was a screaming crowd of savages who, however, confined themselves to unintelligible threats. The other boat was gone. Duff, leaning out, motioned with his hand. "There is no time for explanations now," said he. "Let us get away from here while those demons are too drunk to know how to hinder us. Heavens, but what a time we've had!" While speaking he handed out a pair of oars, a bag of ship's biscuit, and a breaker of water. Meantime the negroes evidently discovered that the boy was communicating with some one on board. The cries and uproar redoubled. The noise of a crowd surging down the companionway and into the main cabin could be heard. Then came a tremendous crash against the door of the stateroom. "Hurry up!" exclaimed Duff coolly, handing out the things all in a heap and scrambling to get through the small aperture himself. "I braced the door, but they are battering it down. Quick, Ralph, pull me through by the arms." [Illustration: "Quick, Ralph, pull me through by the arms."] The boy was none too swift. Tugging with might and main, he dragged the mate through and both fell heavily to the bottom of the yawl, nearly capsizing the craft, just as the stateroom door gave way. A stream of frantic blacks swarmed into the little apartment, one of whom, thrusting his hideous face out at the window, was unceremoniously pushed through by his comrades. He fell across the gunwale of the boat and was shoved overboard by Duff, while Ralph, seizing an oar, placed an end against the schooner's stern-post and threw all his waning strength upon it, sending the yawl out from under the shelter of the ship. When the negroes saw two whites instead of one they appeared beside themselves with rage. A few missiles were thrown; among other articles a Winchester, which the boy strove in vain to reach as it rebounded from the boat's bow into the sea. Duff was struck with a marlin-spike, but he still clung to the oar he was trying to use. Another black plunged through the window into the water, while several threw themselves from the deck and began swimming towards the boat. Ralph noticed that Duff could not stand. He took both oars, and, notwithstanding his weak condition, soon placed the boat beyond the reach of pursuit. The blacks, realizing this, turned and were swimming back to the schooner, when one of them rose half his length from the water, sending forth a piercing cry of agony. Then he was suddenly jerked beneath the waves, as if by some powerful though unseen agency. "What did that?" exclaimed Ralph, horror stricken. "Sharks," returned Duff sententiously, pointing to several dark pointed fins that now appeared, all making for the schooner. "The rascals are never far away from a ship in these latitudes." "This is horrible!" exclaimed the lad, pulling on one oar to turn the boat round. "What are you doing?" demanded Duff. "I am going to try and save some of those niggers. I know they are bad; but we made them so. I can't stand it, I tell you, to see them eaten up in that way. Look!" There came another shriek, and a second trail of blood rose to the surface of the sea as another victim was dragged beneath. "I know," replied Duff. "But--self preservation first. Lock there, will you!" Regardless of their screaming comrades who were trying to reach the ship, the blacks on board were striving to turn the big Long Tom amidships so as to bring it to bear upon the yawl. "That cannon is loaded--with slugs and scrap iron. Captain had it done in order to sweep the decks, if necessary. But they gave us no chance and the load is in it yet. Give me an oar. Pull now--for your life! Lucky it is they don't know much about sighting a gun." Suiting his action to his words the mate literally forced the lad to obey. Other cries sounded, and Ralph caught a glimpse of two or three scrambling on board again by the aid of a rope that happened to hang over the side. His strength was nearly gone, and only an intense resolution kept him to his task at the oar. Duff, behind Ralph, also pulled away, though the strain caused him to groan now and then. "Are you hurt?" asked the boy as they drew rapidly away from the now dreaded ship. "Leg broke. Shot below the knee. Hist! They are going to try it now." A large negro was hastening from the cook's galley with a flaming brand. The instant of suspense that followed was awful. A bright flash followed, and as the accompanying roar met their ears a harsh spattering and hissing beyond relieved their anxiety immensely. Not a thing touched the boat or its occupants. "Overshot--by thunder!" cried Duff with an exulting whoop, that ended in a groan of pain. "We are all right now; the beggars can never reload. They don't know how, and be hanged to 'em!" After that, while resting, Ralph briefly related his own adventures, though touching lightly upon his suffering for food and the pain of his wound. "You've had a time of it, sure," replied Duff. "Yet it was lucky for you and me both that you parted company with us as you did. Ah! 'twas a very trying day yesterday and a fearful time last night. Eat a bite, lad. I can't till I've tried to do something for my leg." So Ralph fell to on the bag of biscuit and the keg of water, while Duff bathed and bound up his leg as best he could. The bone had been fractured just above the ankle by a bullet. Fortunately it was an easy though painful matter to straighten the limb, as nothing had been unjointed. A spare shirt and some of the canvas sufficed to keep the bone in place after a fashion. As Duff said grimly: "It will do until we're picked up; and if we ain't picked up, it will do anyhow." Ralph, after eating, dressed his own wound, and the two made themselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. The mate's account of what happened after Ralph's drifting away was in substance as follows. Things remained tolerably quiet for several hours after the defeat of the attempt on the part of the blacks to gain the deck by way of the forecastle. It was concluded that the negroes were sleeping off the effect of the rum they must have taken. As most of the water was below, they probably quenched their thirst without stint. Meanwhile, on deck things looked more blue than ever. The whites were without provisions, nearly everything in that line being in the store rooms below. A large breaker of water was on tap in the waist, which, with some ship's biscuits, formed their only diet that morning. No sail was sighted all that day. Ralph's absence was detected only when it was found that one of the boats was gone. Gary swore some at the loss of the last, but seemed relieved rather than otherwise over the fate of the boy. "He's gone and a good riddance," said he. "We're short of help, but we can stand the loss of the cub better than that of the boat." During the day the blacks below threw overboard the bodies of the slain, having no fire wherewith to indulge their cannibalistic tastes. One of the wounded seamen died and was consigned to the deep by his desperate comrades. The hours wore on until the strain of anxiety lest the blacks should fire the ship, or renew their assaults, grew unendurable. Some proposed a desperate charge down the gangway with cutlasses and loaded rifles. Could they once force the blacks into the main hold, the howitzer might again be trained on them. One fatal discharge, said these bolder ones, would cow the negroes into submission. But Gary, who was no coward, would not allow any such rashness. What could seven men do against a hundred? The negroes now had a few weapons; they had all the ammunition but what was in the magazines of the Winchesters. "We must wait, keep cool, and watch for a sail," said the captain. "In rescue and in keeping these beggars below decks lies our hope." "What will we do when our grub gives out?" asked some one. "Die like men when the time comes, I hope," replied Gary, with grim determination. He was as game as he was heartless and cruel. But later on one of the men found a demijohn of liquor in the cook's pantry. Neb, thoroughly cowed by his uncivilized brethren below, had deserted his post and was in hiding somewhere. The liquor was secretly hidden away, and the men began drinking. By the time Gary found out what was up, every one but himself and Duff was recklessly intoxicated. He made a search for the stuff, but was recalled by another effort of the blacks to force open one of the hatches. The attempt was foiled, but night had fallen before Gary found where the liquor was hidden. He promptly broke the demijohn, and was knocked down thereupon by one of the drunken sailors. This led to a general melee on the quarter deck, where the row began. The forecastle was entirely deserted by the men, who were maddened by the destruction of their liquor. Duff used his efforts to part them, but growing uneasy over the unguarded state of the ship, he started to go forward. He had hardly reached the main deck when he saw a black form leaping out of the forecastle. The blacks, taking advantage of the fight overhead, and the absence of a guard, had battered down the bulkhead between the main hold and the sailors' sleeping quarters with the very howitzer which had been mounted below for their subjection. Duff raised the alarm, but it was too late. Scores of negroes poured upon the decks, now dimly lighted by ship's lanterns, and fell upon their oppressors with a fury intensified by rum and a sense of cruelties that had been inflicted upon them when bound and helpless. They had armed themselves with knives, pieces of furniture converted into clubs--anything that could be had. Those who had Winchesters opened a wild though almost useless fire on the whites, then clubbed their guns. One ball did indeed strike the second mate, and another put out the two lanterns, leaving the after part of the ship in darkness. But the terrible conflict was over soon. The last Duff saw of Gary he was backed against the main mast defending himself. One arm hung useless, as he faced a circle of savage, merciless faces. Then one of the negroes felled the captain from behind, and a shower of blows was rained upon his prostrate figure. Duff, who had done his part during the fighting, managed to make his way to the quarter deck by striking down a negro or two who opposed him. It was then that he was shot. Realizing that all was over, and determined to sell his life as dearly as possible, he limped to the stern, and awaited his fate. As if by an inspiration, he thought of his stateroom which, as far as he knew, might have remained locked after he had abandoned it upon the first breaking forth of the blacks. For the moment he was unobserved in the darkness that now reigned aft. The negroes had just brought forth Neb's body, and were manifesting their disapproval of his association with the whites by beating and kicking the inanimate clay. Duff, despite the pain of his fractured limb, lowered himself by a rope to the still open window, and managed to pull himself through into his stateroom, and drag his body to his berth. Here the agony of his wound overcame him, and he fell into a deep swoon. CHAPTER XXVI. Hard Times. When the second mate revived there were sounds of high rejoicing overhead. He saw that the fastenings of his door had not been disturbed. After dressing his wound as best he could, he set about securing the best possible means of prolonging and perhaps saving his life. If the drink-crazed blacks could be kept out of his stateroom, it might be that he would not be molested until some passing vessel, noting the unseaman-like appearance and maneuvers of the Wanderer would come to his rescue. The blacks evidently did not know of his whereabouts, but considered that all of their whilom masters had been put to death. But the chance for ultimate safety was slight, he felt. When the schooner might be fired or dismantled in a gale, through ignorance, he knew not, but he realized that the negroes were liable to commit almost any blunder. Again, the passing ships might not stop. He also must have something to eat and drink, his wound rendering him especially thirsty. Limping to the door he listened long and intently. As far as he could tell, the entire crowd of blacks were on deck, carousing over their victory and enjoying the fresh air of which they so long had been deprived. He unlocked and peered through the door. Then he quickly slipped into the cabin and reconnoitered. All seemed to be quiet. Without wasting time he went into the store rooms, secured a bag of biscuit and filled a breaker with water from one of the butts. Carrying these into his room he returned and took a pair of spare oars wherewith to brace his door. The confusion and waste wrought by the blacks were extreme. Bread, meat, and vegetables lay upon the floor. Boxes and barrels were broken open and their contents recklessly thrown about. The rum barrel had been conveyed to the deck. Overhead Duff could hear barbaric dancing, whooping and singing. A noise at the head of the companion-way caused him to retreat hastily to his own room, where he softly locked the door and used both oars as braces. For the present he was probably safe, as his presence had not yet been discovered. All that day the negroes gave themselves over to eating and drinking. The sails swung idly in the passing breezes, and as the weather was not boisterous the schooner fared very well. Duff slept, thought, and nursed his wound. At times he would look from his little window for a sail, and when night came he curled down in his bunk so snugly, that it seemed at times as if things were going on as usual before the mutiny. When he looked out in the morning at daylight the first object he saw was the yawl. At first he thought it might be the second boat which had been loosened somehow during the fierce battle on deck. But when Ralph rose and looked around, the mate recognized the lad and waved his handkerchief. He was not a little astonished at the boy's re-appearance, having heard the shot which wounded Ralph, and having given both lad and yawl up for lost. "Well now," remarked Ralph, on the conclusion of the story, "what are we to do?" "When the sun gets well up, we will take an observation and make a reckoning. Then we'll lay our course for the nearest land. Perhaps we may be picked up--perhaps we won't be. Whatever happens we will make the grub and water go as far as possible, keep a stiff lip, and trust to Providence." While speaking Duff drew forth from the bundle of bedding he had thrown out, a leather bag. From this he produced a compass and a sextant. "Now, lad," said he, "let us enlarge this here sail a bit, and get ready to do some traveling when the breeze comes." For an hour or two both man and boy worked until they had the yawl in as good trim as possible. Then the mate took an observation by the sun, cast a reckoning, and informed Ralph that as far as his knowledge of geography would serve, they were some two hundred miles from the Cape Verdes. "We have a fair wind, Ralph, so square away west by nor'west, and leave this bloody slaver to her fate. I'm sorry for those niggers, for bad as they treated us, we got 'em in the fix they're in. If we speak a vessel we can go back." "Mebbe they won't want to," suggested Ralph. "Salvage," returned Duff briefly. "There's money in it, you see. Men will do about anything for money enough." For the next two days they kept their course and took turn about in sailing. As the last glimpse of the slaver faded into nothingness, both felt relieved. They nursed their wounds and endured their sufferings and privations as best they could. The third day sundry signs betokening a storm lent an anxious expression to Duff's face, that soon transferred itself to Ralph's. The wind stiffened gradually into half a gale and night closed in, around an ominous and threatening horizon. Though worn and wearied, the mate never gave up the tiller all during that black and perilous siege of darkness. Ralph bailed and held the main sheet. When the squalls came he slackened up or drew in around the cleat as became necessary. The scene was intensely depressing, hopeless, terrible. Hardly a word was spoken save in reference to the management of the boat. Morning found them greatly exhausted and barely able to keep their small craft from broaching to. Had this happened they would have foundered undoubtedly. The clouds seemed to press the ocean, confining the view to less than half a mile in any direction. The sea was a tumbling mass of gray, seething billows, that tossed the yawl at pleasure hither and thither, the rag of sail barely sufficing to keep her head to windward. Ralph had endured the terrors of the night without a murmur. But he had been aboard the yawl now about five days on a diet of bread and water. Nature was giving way under the strain. As he gazed around on the angry scene, where no sign of relenting on the part of the storm was evident, he turned to Duff and fixed on him a hopeless look. "I don't think I can stand it much longer, sir," he said. The mate's plight was almost as bad; indeed his wound was worse than Ralph's. But he was tougher; he had been shipwrecked twice previously. "Lad," he replied, somewhat sternly, "never give up as long as you can bat an eye. That's my doctrine." And he looked it; so did Ralph a moment later, nor did the boy complain again. All that weary day they fought a losing battle against wind and wave, and when night once more closed in without any sign of clearing weather, the hearts of both were at the lowest ebb of hope. Had the gale increased they must inevitably have been swamped. Along about two bells in the first night watch the mate, who had never uttered one word of complaint, groaned aloud. "Give--me--water," he faltered. "I--I----" And he sank forward against Ralph, and from there to the boat's bottom, where he lay apparently insensible from exhaustion and pain. The boy seized the tiller, or the yawl, broaching, would have shipped a fatal sea. There was nothing to do but to hold to his post; so after throwing a blanket over Duff he turned his attention to the boat, keeping the shred of sail taut, and the bow as much to windward as possible. Later on he nodded, but found on awaking that the wind was decreasing. This cheered him into renewed activity for a time, then he fell asleep again, and so continued, with brief interludes of wakefulness, until he felt himself sinking from the seat he had held so long. Once he fancied he caught a gleam of stars; and it seemed that a stillness was pervading the air as the whistle of the wind died into melancholy murmurings. After that he remembered nothing more until a voice penetrated his brain like a trump of doom. He started up, but fell back weakly. The mate was steering and half lying on the bottom of the boat, while shading his eyes with one hand as he stared over the gunwale. "Rouse up a bit, lad!" cried Duff, his tones quivering with excitement and weakness. "It's a sail--a sail!" Ralph struggled to his knees and beheld a large ship bearing down upon them scarcely half a mile away. The sun was up, and the sky bright and fair, with a ragged patch of cloud here and there. "Hurray!" he cried weakly, then his head swam, and he fell back motionless. Duff held grimly to his post, even after consciousness had departed. The rescuing party found him with head drooped upon his arm, while his nerveless fingers still rested on the tiller. CHAPTER XXVII. Uncle Gideon. The day was well spent when Ralph again came to his senses. He raised his head and looked about in a half stupefied wondering way. The lad was in a small, but well lighted stateroom, plainly yet comfortably furnished. A grave looking, middle aged man was feeling his pulse, while a sailor, neatly dressed in a blue jacket and white duck trousers, stood behind with a towel over his arm and a bowl of broth in his hand. The other was in a navy blue uniform. The gold lace on his cap and the shoulder straps betokened one in authority. Outside, the sun was shining brightly, while a sound of measured tramping and an occasional order in commanding tones, indicated something of military precision in the surroundings. "Where am I?" asked Ralph, noticing that his hands were rather white and wasted. "You are on the United States sloop of war, the Adams, homeward bound," replied the officer. "You were picked up six days ago, and have been ill ever since. I am the ship's surgeon." "Is--is----" "Yes, Mr. Duff is well," said Dr. Barker, anticipating the boy's inquiry; "that is except his leg, which is progressing finely. You must not talk much--yet. We ran upon the Wanderer after picking you up. Duff related his own adventures and yours, and gave us his reckoning, taken just after you and he left her. We found her after a two days' search, partially dismasted, and the blacks thoroughly cowed by the gale. We sent her to St. Paul De Loando, where she will be appraised and sold. "It is likely that your share and Mr. Duff's of the prize money will be considerable, as but for you two we would not have made the capture. As you were deceived when shipping on her as to the object of her trip, you can not be held responsible for the crime committed by her captain and owner in violating the law against slave trading. The negroes of course will be set free." The door here opened and Duff entered on crutches, followed by a tall, sandy whiskered officer, who went up to Ralph at once. "Well, nephew," said he in a cordial, hearty tone, "how are you? Well enough to stand a stiff surprise?" Ralph wondered weakly, but his perplexity ended in a smile. It seemed as if every one was very cordial and that his lines were falling in pleasant places at last. He greeted Duff eagerly and looked at the two naval men inquiringly, remembering the surgeon's warning as to talking. "This is Chief Quartermaster Gideon Granger, Ralph," said Duff. "Now do you know who he is?" "Gideon Granger was my father's half brother," replied the lad at once. "He left home before I was born. Grandfather thought he went to Texas, but as he never heard from him, we all supposed he was dead. So--you are--Uncle Gid." "Yes, my lad," said Granger. "You see your grandfather and I didn't get on together somehow, so one day I tripped anchor and made sail, as I thought, for the West; but the sight of salt water was too much for me. I drifted into a sailor's life, got into the navy, was promoted during the war, and--here I am. "Meeting up with you, however, is about the strangest streak of luck I have happened with yet. But I am none the less glad to fall in with one of my own kin. You're as welcome to me, lad, as I reckon we were to you and Duff, the morning we sighted you off the Cape Verdes. When he told me who you were I was all broke up. You were pretty well done for." "I guess I must have given you some trouble since then," returned Ralph, reaching for his uncle's hand. "We did have rather a tough time in that old boat." "You did that. As soon as you were hoisted aboard, Dr. Barker pronounced you down with coast fever. That trip up the river Duff tells me about, probably planted the seeds, and exposure did the rest--eh, Doc." The surgeon nodded, then the chief quartermaster added: "But we will be at Norfolk in a week, then I'll apply for shore leave and you and I will go down and see the old man." "He won't want to see me," remarked Ralph, who then briefly related the circumstances under which he had been driven from home, his encounter with Shard, and the latter's mode of placing him at Gary's mercy. The old warrant officer laughed over the silly feud, while sympathizing with the boy over its sad results. "You shall take me home," he concluded. "Father will forgive us both and we'll liven the old gent up a bit. Perhaps we can get him down where he can taste a whiff of salt air, especially if I make a man-'o-war's man out of his grandson." The doctor now interposed, and said that Ralph had talked, and been talked to, enough that day. So the boy was left to another refreshing sleep, after enjoying his bowl of chicken broth. Two days later he was out on deck, where the neatness, precision, and martial splendor of everything he saw, quite captivated his young imagination. When they entered the harbor at Fortress Monroe and salutes were fired, yards manned, and flags dipped by the Adams and the friendly foreign war ships anchored there, Ralph felt more than ever that his vocation was that of a sailor. True to his word, Uncle Gideon soon started with his nephew for the old mountain home that he had not seen for more than thirty years. When Ralph stood aside, and the stern old man gazed upon his first born, the meeting and recognition were touching in the extreme. Ralph was forgiven for outliving the feud, and the final result was that son and grandson carried the lonely old man with them back to Norfolk, where he was made comfortable in the "Old People's Home," his own means, supplemented by Gideon's savings, paying all expenses. One day the quartermaster came into their boarding-house, and on entering Ralph's room slapped the lad heartily on the back. "I've fixed it, nephew," said he jovially. "My ship sails in three days, and I was afraid I might not pull you through in time. But our captain gave us a lift. You know he stands in with some of the big bugs in the navy department at Washington. "What!" exclaimed Ralph enthusiastically, his eyes glowing, "am I really to get a berth on the training ship as a naval apprentice?" "Better than that. When I made known that your share of the Wanderer prize money, and what I could spare would pay your way, captain wrote to his friend at Washington, and the upshot of it all is you're to go to Annapolis. Think of that! One year to prepare for your examination--four years as a cadet--then an ensign. Ah, lad! If I'd had your chance at your age I might have been at least a lieutenant. During the war there was more than one such rose to be commodore. But bear in mind: I can renew my youth in watching you. So bear a hand, lad, and do your best. You may live to walk your own quarter-deck yet." "If I do," replied Ralph, seizing his uncle's hard and weather beaten hand, "it will all be owing to you." The old veteran grinned, then seemed to remember something. "Put on your hat, lad," said he. "We will lay a course for the old man over at the Home. You must ask him if fighting for Uncle Sam on sea isn't better than bushwhacking your neighbors in the mountains." 
23853	----	None 
21472	----	Ned Garth; Made Prisoner in Africa. A Tale of the Slave Trade, by W H G Kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ NED GARTH; MADE PRISONER IN AFRICA. A TALE OF THE SLAVE TRADE, BY W H G KINGSTON. CHAPTER ONE. "Can you make her out, Ned? My eyes are not so sharp as they used to be, and I lost sight of the craft when came on." "She has tacked, uncle; I see her masts in one, and she's standing to the westward." "I was afraid so; she must be a stranger, or she would have kept her course. She'll not weather the head as she's now standing, and if it doesn't clear and show her the land, she'll be on shore, as sure as my name is John Pack." The speaker was a strongly built man, dressed in a thick pea-coat buttoned closely over his breast, the collar turned up to protect his neck. A white, low-crowned, weather-beaten, broadish-brimmed hat covered his head, and he held in his hand a thick stick, which he pressed firmly on the ground as he walked, for he had been deprived of one of his legs, its place being supplied by a wooden substitute resembling a mop handle in shape. His appearance was decidedly nautical, and though habited in plain clothes, he might have been known at a glance to be a naval officer. His companion, a boy of about fourteen years of age, though from his height and breadth of shoulders he might have been supposed to be older, wore a thick monkey jacket, a necessary protection against the strong wind and dense masses of rain and mist which swept up from the ocean. They stood on the top of a cliff on the southern coast of England, which, circling round from the north-west to the south-east, formed a broad deep bay, terminated on the further side by a bluff headland, and on the other by a rocky point, a ledge partly under water extending beyond it. The bay was indeed a dangerous place to enter with so heavy a gale from the south-west as was now blowing. Lieutenant Pack and his young nephew Edward Garth were returning home from an errand of mercy to an old fisherman who had been severely injured by the upsetting of his boat, in a vain endeavour to go off to a coaster in distress, which foundered in sight of land, when he was washed on shore amid the fragments of his boat, narrowly escaping with his life. Although the fisherman's cottage was upwards of two miles off, the old lieutenant trudged daily over to see him, and on this occasion had been accompanied by his nephew, carrying a basket containing certain delicacies prepared by the kind hands of Miss Sarah Pack, or sister Sally, as he was wont to call her. He and his nephew had started later than usual, and the gloom of an autumn evening had overtaken them when they were still some distance from home. He had caught sight of the vessel, apparently a large brig, and had at once perceived her dangerous position. For some time he and his nephew stood watching the stranger from the cliff. "Here she comes again!" cried Ned. "She made out the land sooner than I expected she would," observed the lieutenant; "but she'll scarcely weather the point even now, unless the wind shifts. She can't do it--she can't do it!" he cried, striking the ground in his eagerness with his stick. "Run on, Ned, to the coast-guard station. If you meet one of the men, tell him, in case he hasn't seen her, that I think the vessel will be on shore before long. But if you fall in with no one, go and let Lieutenant Hanson know what I say, and he'll get his rockets ready, so as to be prepared to assist the crew whenever the vessel may strike. Take care, Ned, though, not to fall over the cliff--keep well away from it. On a dark night you cannot see the path clearly, and in many spots, remember, it ends abruptly in places where it wouldn't do to tumble down. I cannot spare you, my boy." While the lieutenant was shouting out these latter sentences, Edward, eager to obey his uncle's directions, had got to a considerable distance; he, however, very soon came back. "I met one of the men, uncle," he said, "and he went on to the station faster than I could in the dark, as he knows the short cuts." "Come along then, we'll keep an eye on the brig as we walk homeward," said the lieutenant. "I pray that after all she may claw off the land, although she will have a hard job to do it." The old officer and the boy proceeded on the way they had previously been pursuing. They had gone some distance when they saw a light approaching them. "Now, if my sister Sally hasn't sent Tom to look for us, or I am much mistaken," he exclaimed to himself rather than to his companion. "Poor soul! she's been in a precious quandary at our not returning sooner, and has been fancying that we shall be melted by the rain, or carried off the cliffs by the wind, though it blows directly on them." The lieutenant was right in his conjectures; in another minute a voice was heard shouting, "Dat you, Massa Pack an' Massa Ned?" "Aye, aye," answered the lieutenant; "keep your lantern shaded from the sea, or it may be mistaken for a signal." Directly afterwards a tall figure could be discerned coming towards him. "Missie Sarah in drea'ful way, cos you an' Massa Ned not come back when de wind an' rain kick up such a hulabaloo," said the same voice which had before spoken. The lieutenant explained the cause of their delay, and bade Tom hasten back and tell his mistress that they would soon be at home, but were anxious to ascertain the fate of a vessel they had discovered closer in-shore than she should be. "Beg her not to be alarmed; and, Tom, you come back with a coil of rope and a couple of oars from the boat-house. We may not want them, for I hope the coast-guard men will be up to the spot in time to help, should the craft unfortunately come ashore, but it is just as well to be prepared to render assistance in case of need." Tom, handing the lantern to the boy, hurried back to execute the orders he had received, the lieutenant and his young companion following at a slower pace. The fast increasing darkness had now completely shut out the brig from sight. When last perceived, however, her head was pointed in a direction which, could she maintain, she might weather the rocks under her lee. Presently the loud report of a gun was heard sounding high above the roar of the seas which broke on the shore. "That was fearfully near," observed Edward. "It was indeed," said the lieutenant. "I hope that it will hurry Hanson and his men. The master of the brig has discovered his danger. There is no chance of her escaping, I fear." "I can see her!" cried the boy; "one of her top-masts has gone, she's drifting bodily on shore." "Poor fellows! with a heavy sea beating on it; unless she's a stout craft, she'll knock to pieces in a few minutes," observed the lieutenant. "We'll go down to the beach and try what help we can render." A zig-zag pathway, well known to both of them, led downwards through an opening in the cliff, a short distance from the spot they had reached. The lieutenant and his nephew followed it without hesitation, the former leading and feeling the way with his stick, for it required care to avoid slipping over, and an ugly fall might have been the consequence of a false step. They reached the bottom, however, in safety; and as they hurried along the shingly beach, straining their eyes to discover the whereabouts of the hapless brig, another and another gun was heard, the loud reports rapidly succeeding the bright flashes, showing the nearness of the vessel. The whistling of the wind and the roaring of the waves overpowered all other sounds. They listened for another gun, but listened in vain. "I feared it would be so," exclaimed the lieutenant; "she must have struck already." "Yes, yes, I see a dark mass surrounded by foam; that must he her, and not fifty yards off," cried Ned. As he spoke he could distinguish, in imagination at all events, amid the wild foaming waters, the crash of timbers, and hear the cries of the hapless crew imploring assistance. For an instant, too, he fancied that he saw a smaller object floating on the snowy crests of the waves, but before he could be certain that it was what he supposed, it had disappeared. "Would that the men with their rockets were here. What can have delayed them? If they don't come soon, not a soul of the crew will be left alive," exclaimed the lieutenant. Just then a voice hailed, and Edward shouted in return. A dark figure could be seen at the top of the cliff. It was Tom, who rapidly made his way down to where they stood, carrying a pair of oars and a coil of rope. "The brig is driving in," cried Edward. "She's much nearer than when I first saw her." "You're right," answered the lieutenant. "In spite of my timber leg, few men could once beat me at swimming; even now I've a mind to go off to the wreck. I might be in time to save some of the people. Here, Tom, hand me the end of the rope, and I'll make it fast round my waist, and do you and Ned pay it out, and haul in again when I shout to you." "Don't think of going," said Edward; "you have been ill lately, and are not as strong as you were. Let me try. I can swim like a fish; you have often seen me in rough water as well as in smooth. It won't matter to any one if I am drowned." "Won't it though! What would Aunt Sally say if I was to go back without you, Ned?" exclaimed the lieutenant. "I should never be able to look her in the face again." "But I'll do my best not to come to harm," said Edward; "and you can haul me back if I cannot make my way through the breakers." "Let me go, massa," cried Tom, rapidly throwing off his clothes, and beginning, without further ado, to fasten the rope round his own waist. "Jis see him tight--not a slip-knot, massa. Tom Baraka swim tro' worse seas dan dis on coast ob Africa, as you know. Stick de oar in de sand. Tie de rope to it, Massa Pack; you pay out, and off him go." And before the lieutenant or Ned had time to speak another word, the black had plunged into the foaming seas, dragging out the rope which the lieutenant quickly uncoiled. His dark head and back could be distinguished amid the surging foam, as he made his way through the breakers for some distance, when a huge wave rolling in beat him back almost to the beach. The lieutenant hauled in the rope, fearing that Tom's legs might be entangled, but the brave black again sprang forward. He had, however, another danger besides the sea to encounter. Already broken spars, planks, and masses of timber, with bales of all sorts, were being hurled on shore, and a blow from some heavy piece of wreck might in an instant disable him. It seemed useless indeed to proceed further; not a human being was likely to have remained alive on the shattered wreck. Probably the larger number were drowned when the boat was upset. Another sea, still fiercer than the former, rushing on with a loud roar, again drove Tom back. "We must haul in the rope," cried the lieutenant. "I cannot let the brave fellow further risk his life." But once more it was found that Tom was dragging out the rope. "I heard a cry, and I fancy I see some one not far from. Tom," exclaimed Edward. "Yes, yes! he is making towards the man. Ah, I fear he has missed him; no, he has hold of him. Haul away, uncle, haul away; let me go and help him, there's rope enough to spare," and Ned, securing the slack end of the rope under his arms and seizing the spare oar, dashed forward in time to grasp the man just as the black, exhausted by his exertions, was on the point of letting him go. Another wave breaking at the moment, and hissing as it rushed back in a sheet of foam over the beach, would have swept away the almost rescued man, but Edward, planting his oar deep in the sand, held on while the lieutenant was engaged in hauling Tom out of danger, hastening, the moment he had done so, to assist his nephew in landing the stranger. The latter still breathed, and attempted to raise himself from the sand, though unable to speak. "You attend to him, Ned, while I look after Tom," said the lieutenant. The black, however, required no assistance. He proposed, indeed, to again swim off on the chance of finding some other human being struggling for life; but this the lieutenant would not allow. Already the breakers were covered with masses of wreck, amid which not a single person could be seen, though they looked out eagerly, Tom pressing into the seething foam as far as he dared venture, while the lieutenant held up the lantern as a signal to any strong swimmer who might successfully have buffeted with the waves; but he did so with little hope of success. Every now and then he looked round, uttering an exclamation of regret at the non-appearance of the coast-guard, though, had they arrived, it was evident that they would be too late to be of use. The sea continued to cast up fragments of wreck and cargo on the beach, but the lieutenant and Tom searched in vain for any of their fellow-creatures to whom they might render assistance. "No use waiting longer, I fear," shouted the lieutenant. "I'll go and look after the man we have saved; the sooner we get him under shelter the better, or he'll be perishing of cold." "Me stop just a little longer," answered the black. "Take care though that the sea doesn't carry you off, Tom," cried the lieutenant, even now trusting that someone else might be rescued. On returning to the spot where Edward was tending the stranger, he bent down by the side of the latter and felt his heart. "He is still evidently in a very exhausted condition," he observed, holding up his lantern so that the light fell on the man's countenance. "Poor fellow, he does not look as if he were accustomed to a seaman's life." "I have been rubbing his hands and chest, uncle, and trying what I could do to revive him," said Edward. "We should get him home at once, I am sure." "Just what I was saying; we must not risk his life on the chance of saving that of others," replied the lieutenant. "Come, Tom," he shouted, "it is of no use, we must carry home this poor fellow; and may be before we get far the coast-guard will be down here and take our places." At that instant a hail was heard. The lieutenant shouted in return. In a few minutes a party of coast-guard men appeared, headed by their lieutenant, who had heard the guns, and had been searching for the spot where the vessel had struck. The man to whom Edward had given the message had, however, not appeared, having, as was afterwards discovered, fallen over the cliff and nearly lost his life. Lieutenant Hanson said that he would remain on the spot, though his rockets would be useless, as not a man could be clinging to the wreck. "Let me have one of your people to assist in carrying this poor fellow to my cottage then," said Lieutenant Pack; "it is more than Tom and I can accomplish, seeing that my timber toe is apt to stick in the soft sand as I trudge along." "With all my heart," was the answer. "You shall have two, only send them back without delay." No further time was lost. The coast-guard men, wrapping the stranger in their dry coats, lifted him on their shoulders, Ned and Tom taking his feet, while the lieutenant led the way, lantern in hand, towards his home. Although a bright light beaming forth from the sitting-room of the lieutenant's abode could alone be distinguished as the party approached, it may be as well to describe it at once. Triton Cottage, as he called it, from the name of the ship on board which he first went to sea, stood on the side of a broad gap or opening in the cliff, some little distance up from the beach, the ground around it being sufficiently level to allow of a fair-sized garden and shrubbery. It was a building of somewhat curious appearance, having no pretentions to what is considered architectural beauty. The lieutenant, notwithstanding, was proud of it, as the larger portion had been erected by his own hands from time to time as he considered it necessary to increase its size, in order to afford sufficient accommodation to its inmates, and to obtain a spare room in which he could put up an old shipmate, or any other visitor to whom his hospitable feelings might prompt him to give an invitation. The original building had been a fisherman's cottage, to which he had added another story, with a broad verandah in front, while on either side wings had been attached, the upper portions composed of wood obtained from wrecks, the bulkheads serving as wainscoting to the rooms. Both from their size and the fittings they resembled the cabins of a small vessel, being warmed also by ship's stoves, with high flues, curiously topped, rising above the roof, exhibiting a variety of contrivances to prevent the smoke from beating down. The tar-bucket and paint-pot had been brought largely into requisition, the wood-work of the lower story being covered with a shining coat of black, while various colours adorned the walls both inside and out. The old lieutenant might frequently have been seen, brush in hand, adorning his mansion, and stopping up every crevice, so as to defy damp, or rain driven against it by the fiercest of south-westerly gales. It was substantially roofed with thick slabs of slate, obtained from a neighbouring quarry, calculated to withstand the storms of winter or the thickest downfall of snow. The building had, however, so slight an appearance that it looked as if it might be carried by a strong wind into the sea; but a closer inspection showed that the materials of which it was composed were well seasoned and firmly put together, and though gaily bedecked, fire was the only element it had to fear, and against that the owner had taken all necessary precautions. "Sally, sister Sally!" he shouted, as he neared the door, "I have brought a guest who requires careful looking after, or he'll slip through our fingers, for he's pretty well gone already." As he spoke, the door opened, and a female appeared holding a shaded lamp in her hand, which the wind threatened every instant to extinguish. Her figure was short and slight, her dress a grey silk gown, a plain lace cap confining her once dark hair, already sprinkled with grey, drawn back from her forehead, on which not a wrinkle could be seen. A kind expression beamed from her countenance, which, if it had never possessed much beauty, must always have been pleasant to look upon. "Thank Heaven you've come back at last, John! Tom frightened me by the intelligence that a wreck was on shore, and I knew that you would be exposing yourself to danger. Have many of the poor fellows been saved?" "Only one, I fear," answered the lieutenant, pointing to the men who now approached. "Take him into my room, Tom; the sooner he is in bed the better, and mine is ready for him. Get some warm broth or a cup of tea made in the meantime. He is terribly exhausted, and probably has not tasted food for many hours." The lieutenant made these remarks as Ned and Tom, with the coast-guard men, conveyed the stranger into the room, when, speedily taking off his wet garments, they placed him in bed. "By his dress I suspect he is a gentleman," observed the lieutenant to his nephew, as Tom gathered up his wet clothes. "Hand me his watch and purse--it is a heavy one--and that pocket-book. Here is a small case too, something of value probably. He will be glad to know that his property is safe when he comes to. Run and see if the tea is ready. I will get him, if I can, to take a little hot liquid. Tell your aunt and Jane to stir up the fire and get the broth boiling; that will soon set him on his legs I hope." The lieutenant now managed to pour the warm tea down the throat of the stranger, who opened his eyes, and looking about with an astonished gaze murmured, "Thank you, thank you! Where am I?" "All right and safe on shore, though you may take my room to be a ship's cabin," answered the lieutenant. "We have got your property, in case you are anxious about it; and after you have had a basin of broth I would advise you to try and go to sleep. It will restore your strength faster than any food we can give you." The stranger again murmured his thanks, and soon after the broth was brought, following his host's advice, he fell into a quiet slumber. "He'll require a visit from the doctor perhaps, though I hope that he'll do well enough now," observed the lieutenant, as he sat at supper with his sister and Ned that evening after he had paid all the attention necessary to his guest. "I wonder who he can be?" observed Miss Sarah. "You say he was dressed as a gentleman, and has a considerable amount of property in his possession." "Your female curiosity will probably be gratified to-morrow, when he is able to give an account of himself," replied the lieutenant; "but it matters very little as far as we are concerned. I suspect he'll thank us for doing what it was our simple duty to do, and after he has gone his way we shall probably hear no more of him. Had he been a seaman, without a copper in his pocket, we should have treated him in the same fashion I hope. Remember, Ned, the meaning of having no respect for persons. It is not that we are not to respect those above us, but that we are to treat our fellow-creatures alike, without expectation of reward, and to pull a drowning man, whether a lord or an ordinary seaman, out of the water when we can." CHAPTER TWO. The next morning Ned went off to summon the doctor from the neighbouring town, for their guest still remained in an apparently dangerous state. Several days passed before he was able to rise. He was evidently, from his conversation and manners, a man of education; but he did not speak of himself, except to mention that his name was Farrance, and that he was on a voyage from the Mediterranean in the "Champion" brig, when she had been cast away; and he again also expressed his gratitude to Miss Sarah Pack for the kindness he was receiving, and to the lieutenant and his companions for preserving his life. He made minute inquiries as to the occurrence, he only remembering that he was clinging to a portion of the wreck after she had struck, when he felt himself washed into the foaming breakers. He appeared to be interested in Ned, whom he drew into conversation, inquiring particularly what profession he intended to follow. "I wish to enter the navy, as my father and uncle did," answered Ned; "but my uncle says that he has no interest, and that I should have little chance of promotion. Indeed, his means are so limited that I cannot ask him to provide the necessary funds, so I conclude I shall have to go into the merchant service." "Well, well, you are right in desiring not to be an expense to your uncle. Every man should endeavour, as far as he can, to depend upon his own exertions; however, you have still some time to think about the matter, and you will, I hope, succeed in whatever profession you follow," remarked the stranger. There was another inmate of the house who appeared to interest him even more than Edward. A little girl of some ten or twelve years of age--a fair-haired, blue-eyed damsel, with a sweet, gentle expression of countenance, yet full of life and spirits. Edward had told him that she was not his sister, although he loved her as much as if she were. The first evening he came into the sitting-room the lieutenant heard him ask her name. "I am called Mary," she answered; "Uncle John gave me my name when he first found me." She shortly afterwards left the room. The stranger watched her as she went out with a look of much surprise. "You may be curious to know the meaning of her remark," observed Miss Sarah. "My brother will tell you how she came into our possession; very thankful I have been to have so sprightly and sweet a young creature under our roof, though at first I confess I felt somewhat anxious when he placed her in my charge." Mr Farrance turned an inquiring glance towards his host. "I have but a short yarn to spin about the matter," said the lieutenant. "Some few years ago, after I had quitted the service, an old friend offered me the command of a ship bound on a voyage round the Cape of Good Hope and up the Red Sea. I was not sorry to obtain employment, and was glad to have the opportunity of making a few pounds, which might assist to keep the pot boiling at home, and help Sally in her housekeeping. Having touched at the Cape, I was steering for Aden, when we were overtaken by a heavy gale, which pretty severely tried my stout ship. We were about to make sail in the morning, the wind having abated and the sea gone down, when an object was seen floating a short distance ahead. On getting nearer, we saw that it was a piece of wreck with a man upon it. Standing on, I hove the ship to, and having lowered a boat, watched with interest her approach to the raft. The man was, I made out, a black. He was holding what looked like a bundle of clothes with one hand, keeping it above the water, which still nearly washed over him. His bundle contained, I had no doubt, something of value, or he would not have exerted himself as he was doing to preserve it from the sea. It was of value, and, to my mind, the most valuable thing in creation--a young child, as I discovered when the boat returned with the rescued man, who still held fast to his treasure. We lifted them both carefully on board. The black sank exhausted on the deck, making signs to us, however, to take care of the child. We thought that it was his own, but when we got a look at its countenance, greatly to our surprise we found that it was as fair as any European. How the man had managed to preserve it during the heavy sea which had been running for some hours seemed a miracle. We carried them both into my cabin. The little girl, you may be sure, had plenty of nurses. She looked frightened enough at seeing us, but appeared wonderfully little the worse for the exposure to which she had been subjected; indeed, although the shawl which had wrapped her was wet, the water was warm and the black must have contrived to keep her head well out of the sea, as her face and hair were only moistened by the spray. "Though she seemed almost too young to speak, she uttered several words in a lingo none of us understood. In a very short time after we had given her some food, and she had had a quiet sleep, she seemed more happy and smiled, and lifted up her face to kiss me when I bent over her. I thanked Heaven that I had been the means of saving the little darling. "It was not until evening that the black, who was pretty well exhausted by his exertions, awoke. I was disappointed, I can tell you, when on speaking to him, he answered in a language of which I could not comprehend a word. We tried him in all sorts of ways, and he made a variety of signs, but we could not comprehend the meaning he intended to convey. In appearance he greatly resembled the slaves I had seen at Zanzibar, on board the Arab dhows, though better-looking. Like most of them, he had but a clout round his waist, and his woolly hair was cropped close. Still he evidently did not lack intelligence. It was very tantalising to find that we could get no information out of him. The little girl was equally unable to give an account of herself, though I fancied that she understood us when we spoke English, but she could not reply intelligibly. "I treated the black as he deserved, for the brave way in which he had saved the child, and he showed that he was grateful for such kindness as I bestowed upon him. "As to the little girl, though I made inquiries at every place I touched at, I could get no information by which I could even guess where she had come from or who she was. From her ways and tone of voice I felt sure, however, that she was of gentle birth. The black seemed mortally afraid of the Arabs, and kept below when any came on board or any dhows hove in sight; indeed it was some time before we could make him understand that he was safe with us, and that no one would venture to take him away by force. He soon became a great favourite with the men, who gave him the name of Tom, in addition to the one by which he called himself, which sounded like Baraka, and Tom Baraka he has been ever since. In a short time he picked up a few words of English, with which he managed to make himself understood; but it was not until we were on the voyage home that he was able to give me an idea how he and the little girl came to be on the piece of wreck from which we rescued him. I would call him in, and let him give his own history; but I think I can make you understand the account better if I give it in ordinary English, for I took no little trouble during several months to get the truth out of him, anxious as he was to give the information I required. His vocabulary being somewhat limited, he accompanied his words by signs, often of so curious a description that it was with difficulty my officers and I could restrain ourselves from bursting into fits of laughter, and yet his account was sad enough. "I placed before him the best map I possessed of the part of Africa from which I calculated he came, and explained to him the rivers and lakes marked upon it. He shook his head, as if he could make nothing of it, but at last fixed on a spot some way in the interior. "`There!' he said, making a wide circle with his finger, `There abouts was my home. By the banks of a river which fell into a lake my people and I were happy in our way, we cultivated our fields and tended our cattle, and had abundance of food without thinking of the future. We heard, it is true, that the cruel men who come across from the big sea had carried off not a few of the inhabitants of other districts; but it was a long, long distance away, and we hoped they would never come near us. We lived as our fathers had done. Occasionally we had to fight to punish our neighbours, who came upon our land and tried to carry off our cattle; and as I grew up and increased in strength I became a warrior, but I only wished to fight to protect my home and my fields from our enemies. When old enough I married a wife, who was as fond of me as woman could be. When kindly treated black women love their husbands, as do their white sisters. We had a little child, I was fond of him, oh! so fond. My delight when I came in from the fields was to carry him about in my arms, or to roll with him on the grass, letting him tumble over me and pull my hair and ears, and then he would smile down into my face and laugh merrily. I was a hunter also, and used fearlessly to attack huge elephants for the sake of their tusks, as well as for their flesh, especially for their big feet, which afford a dainty meal. Even one would be sufficient for the whole of our party. I had crossed the river, with several companions, armed with bows, arrows, and spears, intending to go some distance south, where many elephants, it was said, had been seen. A stranger brought the account. We had gone a day's journey, and were encamped at night, hoping to fall in with a herd of elephants the next day. We had eaten our evening meal, and were about to lie down to sleep, when we were startled by hearing a shower of bullets come whistling above our heads. We rose to fly, but knew not which way to go, for from either side strange cries assailed our ears, and before we could recover from our surprise a large party of men, with gleaming swords in their hands, rushed in upon us. Snatching up our spears we attempted to defend ourselves, but were quickly overpowered, two of my friends being killed and others badly wounded. We were at once bound with cords and thrown on the ground, while our captors were employed in preparing another way to secure us. They were fierce men in dark dresses, some wearing turbans on their heads, others red caps. I watched their proceedings, thinking that, perhaps, they were going to kill and eat us. They cut down some young trees, leaving a fork at one end, and fixing a thick branch at the other, so as to form another fork. When several logs had thus been prepared, they made us with kicks get up, and picking out the strongest men among us, placed one at one end of a leg, and one at the other, securing them by the forks round our necks. As our arms were lashed behind our backs we could offer no resistance, but, pricked by the spears or sword points of our captors, were compelled to march forward in the direction they ordered us. Twenty or more of us were thus secured; the remainder were fastened together by a long rope, one behind the other at an interval of a few feet, with their arms lashed behind them, led by an Arab. With the heavy log round our necks we had no chance of escaping, nor indeed had the others, who would have been shot had they made the attempt. Two or three of the worst wounded sank down from loss of blood. The Arabs made them get up and proceed, but finding at last that the poor wretches could not keep up with the rest, took them out of the line, and putting pistols to their heads, shot them dead. We were joined as we proceeded towards the coast by other captives, taken much as we had been, and treated in the same cruel manner. Some, who had come from still further up the country than we had, and who had thus a longer march, told us that one-third of their number had died or been killed on the way, so that even those who were suffering severely from sickness endeavoured to struggle on as long as they had strength to move for fear of being murdered.' "`At night we were ordered to lie down before the fire, with a strong guard placed over us. We were generally amply fed, in order that our strength might be kept up. Although we passed through several thickly-populated districts, no one dared to help us for fear of the Arabs. At length we reached the bank of a river, near the sea-coast, where we found a large vessel ready to receive us. We were at once ordered to go on board, when we were placed on a bamboo deck, packed close to each other, with our chins resting on our knees. As soon as some fifty or more of us were stowed on the lower deck, another deck was placed over our heads, preventing us even from sitting upright. On this another layer of slaves was stowed in the same way that we were. A third deck was placed above them, which was also crowded with unfortunate captives. We could hear the voices of those above us, and frequently their cries, as the Arabs beat them in order to make them sit closer. A narrow passage was left down the centre of the deck, along which the Arabs could pass to bring us our food. We were thus kept a couple of days in the river, either waiting for a fair wind, or because our masters were afraid of being caught by some of the ships of the white men. Our condition was bad enough in smooth water, but we were to find it considerably worse when we got into the open sea. My only consolation was that my wife and little boy had escaped. I knew that they would be mourning for me, whom they were never to see again. I then wished that they were dead, that their grief might come to an end; and sometimes a terrible thought came to me that they too might some day be captured and carried off to the same horrible slavery which I was doomed, as I thought, to bear. There were not only men on board, but women and children, to be taken to a far distant country, of which we had never before heard. Where it was we could not tell, but we knew, by one telling the other, that it was inhabited by the same sort of people as the Arabs, and we supposed that they would beat and otherwise cruelly treat us if we did not obey them. The younger women and children were better cared for than we men were, and wore well fed, to make them look plump and healthy. The vessel had one great nearly triangular sail, and the after part rose high out of the water, while the bows seemed as if they would dip under it. At last, the wind being fair, we sailed. For some time we glided on. A few of us were sent on deck at a time to breath the fresh air. I felt my heart sink within me, when, on looking round, I could nowhere see the land, nothing but the smooth, shining ocean on every side. It was terrible; I thought we should never again set foot on shore. I had often paddled my canoe on the river, and had even made trading voyages down to the great lake, where I had seen huge waves covered with foam rolling across it; but on such occasions we had quickly made for the shore. Twice my canoe had been upset, but I had easily gained it by swimming. Suddenly the wind began to roar, the thunder rolled above our heads, and the dhow was tossed about by the sea in a way which made me expect that she would speedily be thrown over, and that all on board would be sent into the raging waves. Pitiful were the shrieks and cries of my companions. In vain the Arabs ordered them to keep quiet; they believed that their last hour was come, and cared not what was said to them. I determined, whatever happened, to struggle for my life. I was young and strong; and the thought entered my mind that I might swim to the shore, and get back some day to my wife and children, though I knew that my home must be a long way off. I felt quite disappointed when the storm ceased, and the dhow glided on her course as before. When I next went on deck, I saw that she was in company with other vessels, rigged as she was, and sailing in the same direction. Each of them had prisoners on board. The decks of two or three of the larger ones were crowded with black forms, and I guessed that there were as many more below. Our dhow sailed very fast, and was passing most of them, when a calm came on, and we lay all huddled together, near enough for the people in one vessel to speak to those on board another. Presently I heard the Arabs shouting to each other that there was a large sail in sight. The news seemed to alarm them. She was coming towards the fleet of dhows, bringing up a breeze. At last the wind filled our sails, and the dhows began to separate. We fancied that if we could keep ahead of the stranger that she could not harm us; but we saw flashes of flame proceeding from her side, and round shot came bounding over the water towards us; first one dhow was hit, now another. At last one shot struck our vessel, going through the side, and fearful were the cries which arose from the people below, who were wounded, or expected to be killed by other shots. I had been allowed to remain on deck, for the Arabs in their flight did not think about the slaves. I saw some of the dhows lower their sails, when boats from the big ship took possession of them. Our dhow sailing faster than the others soon got ahead, and I saw our Arab masters rejoicing that they should escape; but the wind was increasing; every instant it grew stronger and stronger. The large sail was lowered, and a small one hoisted, but we dashed over the fast rising sea at greater speed than ever, soon losing sight of the big ship, which, after securing the prizes she had taken, pursued some other dhows, who were endeavouring to make their escape in different directions to that we were steering. The storm, however, increased. The Arabs now began to look alarmed. In vain they tried to stop the hole which the shot had made in the vessel's side; finding this difficult, owing to the crowd of slaves below, they began to throw those in their way overboard. Some were dead, others wounded, but many were uninjured. They shrieked out for mercy, but the Arabs heeded them not.' "`I had kept in the fore part of the vessel, hidden behind a coil of rope, fully expecting that they would soon seize me. After labouring away for some time and finding the water come in as fast as ever, they began to lower a boat and canoe, for the purpose of getting into them, and trying to save their lives, intending to leave me and my companions to our fate. The sea was foaming and roaring around us. It seemed that at any moment the dhow would sink. The sail was now lowered, and the boat and canoe were got into the water. The cry arose that the dhow was sinking, and the Arabs leapt into them in such haste that the boat was upset, and all in her were speedily overwhelmed. The canoe, after being tossed about on the tops of the waves for a few minutes, was also turned over, and all in her shared the fate of their companions. She was not far off at the time. I thought that I might reach her, but I remembered my fellow-slaves. I found a knife which one of the Arabs had left on the deck, and was endeavouring to release some of the men, who might be able to swim with me to the canoe, when I felt that the dhow was going down. I sprang overboard, and with a few strokes gained the canoe, being almost thrown on to her by the seas, when I felt that she was being drawn under the surface; but I clutched tight hold of her, and she quickly came up again. For a few moments the shrieks and cries of my drowning countrymen rose high above the loud dashing of the waves and the howling of the storm, but they were speedily silenced, and I found myself floating alone on the tossing waters. I wished to live for the sake of my wife and child. In my ignorance I knew not how far I was away from the land, still I struggled for life. All night long I clung to the canoe, and before morning the wind had fallen and the sea had become smooth. I was able to right the canoe, when I saw close to me a gourd and a paddle. I reached them by working the canoe on with my hands, and contrived to bale her out. I saw the sun rise, and knew that the land lay on the opposite side. I tried to paddle towards it; but I had had no food and no water, and the sun came down with a heat I had never felt on shore. Still, for hours I paddled on, when I saw the sails of a big ship rising above the horizon. She must be, I thought, the one which had captured the dhows. Fear filled my heart, for the Arabs had told us that the white men would kill and eat us. Terror and the suffering I had undergone overcame me; I sank down at the bottom of the canoe, and knew no more until I found myself on board a ship, with white people standing round me. I could not understand a word they said, nor tell them how I came to be in the canoe, but they looked kind, and my fears left me. I was well fed and cared for, and soon recovered my strength. There were several persons whom I now know to have been passengers. One lady, very fair and beautiful, who spoke in a gentle, sweet voice to me, trying to make me comprehend what she meant. She had a little girl with her. I loved that child from the first, for she made me think of my own boy by her playful ways and happy laugh, though she was fair as a lily, and my boy was as black as I am, but I thought not of the difference of colour. I felt that I should never wish to leave that kind lady and her child. In a few days the weather again became bad, a fearful gale began to blow. The ship was tossed about far more violently than the dhow had been. Presently, during the night, I heard a loud crash, followed by the shouts and shrieks of the crew and passengers. My first thought was of the little girl. On reaching the deck a flash of lightning showed her to me, clinging to her mother's arms. I made signs that I would try and save her, and I wrapped her up in some shawls which had been brought from below. The officers and crew were, I saw, trying to lower the boats. Whether they succeeded or not I could not tell, for the seas were sweeping over the ship, and I knew too that she was sinking, as the dhow had done. While I was standing by the lady's side, looking for one of the boats into which to help her, a huge sea separated us, carrying me off my legs, and I found myself struggling amid the foaming waves. I had caught sight of a dark object floating near, far larger than a boat. By what means I know not I reached it. It was part of the wreck of a dhow or of some other vessel against which our ship had struck. I climbed upon it with my little charge, whose head I had managed to keep above water. She was crying out for her mamma. I knew that name. I tried to console her. For some time voices reached my ear, but whether they came from the boats or the deck of the ship I could not tell; I guessed, too truly, that she had gone down, for when morning at last dawned neither she nor the boats were to be seen. I feared that the little girl would sink from hunger and thirst, for I remembered what I had endured in the canoe; but scarcely had the sun risen than I saw a ship approaching, and you, Massa Pack, know the rest.' "It was my ship which Tom saw coming. Of course we soon had him and his little charge on board. You will understand that I have given what I may call a translation of his yarn. It was spun, as it were, in a number of shreds, and I have put them together; still I have expressed his sentiments, and have not adorned his tale by adding to it anything he did not say. Many a time did he melt into tears as he spoke of his own child and the love he bore him, and it would be difficult to picture fully all the horrors he endured during his journey overland and his voyage in the slave dhow. To send him back to his home I knew was impossible, he would have been retaken by the first Arab party he fell in with, or been murdered as he was trying to pass through the territory of any hostile tribe. He therefore cheerfully remained on board my ship, and has stayed with me ever since, pretty well reconciled to his lot, his whole soul wrapped up in Mary, who has taken the place in his affections of the son from whom he has, he believes, for ever been separated, though he is devoted also to my sister, and to Ned and me. That black fellow has as big a heart as any white man. He does not, however, forget his wife and child, for since he became a Christian, his great desire is that they should be brought to a knowledge of the truth. If it were possible, I would help him to get back to his native village, but to do so is beyond my means. Indeed, from what I hear I fear that the Arabs have long ere this carried them off into captivity, or that, deprived of their protector, they have died of hunger or been killed by their cruel persecutors. Those Arabs have long been the curse of that part of Africa--indeed, for the purpose of obtaining slaves, they have devastated many of its most fertile districts." His guest listened with evident interest to the account given by the lieutenant. "I have not hitherto turned my attention in that direction," observed the former. "Of course I have heard much of the slave trade on the western coast and of the horrors of the middle passage, but I believed that it is now carried on only in a very limited degree, and that the inhabitants of the east coast are well able to take care of themselves." "I have cruised on both coasts, and am convinced that the people on the east part of Africa are subjected to cruelties fully equal to those which the western tribes have for so many ages endured," answered the lieutenant. "Tom's experience is that of thousands; but he did not describe the miseries suffered by those left behind, the despair of the women and children, and of the men who may have escaped from the sudden attack made on their village, to find it when they have returned burned to the ground, their fields laid waste, and their cattle carried off. No one can calculate the numbers who have died from hunger in a land teeming with abundance." Ned and Mary came in during the latter part of the conversation, to which they paid the greatest attention. "I wish I could help to put a stop to such horrible doings," exclaimed Ned. "I should like to see an English fleet employed in catching all the dhows, and an army sent to march through the country to turn all the Arabs out of it. It would be an honour to serve even as a drummer-boy on shore, or as a powder-monkey on board one of the ships." Their guest smiled at Ned's enthusiasm. "A more certain way may be found for benefiting the Africans than by armies or fleets," observed Miss Sarah; "if a band of faithful missionaries of the Gospel were scattered through the country, they would, with God's blessing, carry Christianity and civilisation to the long benighted and cruelly treated people." "You speak the truth, madam, the matter is worthy of consideration," observed the guest, turning to Miss Sarah. "I have learned several things since I came into your house. I wish that I could remain longer to learn more, but I am compelled to go up to London; and as I feel myself sufficiently strong to travel, I must, early to-morrow morning, wish you farewell." CHAPTER THREE. The shipwrecked stranger had taken his departure; he had paid the doctor, and sent a present to the coast-guard men who had assisted to carry him to the house; but he had not offered to remunerate the lieutenant or Tom for the service they had rendered him, though he feelingly expressed his gratitude to them. Perhaps he considered, and he was not wrong in so doing, that they not only did not require a reward for performing an act of humanity, but would have felt hurt had it been offered them. The next morning the lieutenant and Ned started on a walk along the cliffs to inquire at Longview station about the coast-guard man who had nearly been killed on the night of the wreck. The sky was clear, the blue ocean slumbered below their feet, the gentle ripples which played over it sparkling in the bright rays of the sun. A large vessel, with a wide spread of canvas, was gliding majestically by on her way down channel. Ned gazed at her with a wistful eye. "I wish that I were on board that fine craft," he said at length. "I am very happy at home, and I don't want to leave you and Aunt Sally and Mary, but I feel that I ought to be doing something for myself. You and my father went to sea before you were as old as I am. I don't like to be idle and a burden to you. If you did not disapprove of it, I would go before the mast and work my way up--many have done so who are now masters in the merchant service; though, as you know, I would rather go into the navy, but from what you tell me that is out of the question. The owners of your old ship would, I dare say, take me as an apprentice; I'll try and do my duty, and learn to be a sailor so as to become an officer as soon as possible." "You look far ahead; but it is all right, my boy, and I am very sure of one thing, that you will do your duty and reap the reward, whatever happens. I'll write to Clew, Earring and Grummet, and ask them if they have a vacancy for you. Jack Clew, who was once in the navy, was a messmate of mine on board the old `Thunderer' when I lost my leg at `Navarin'," (so the lieutenant always pronounced Navarino, the action fought by the British fleet under Sir Edward Codrington with that of the Turks and Egyptians). "Jack used to profess a willingness to serve me, but, Ned, we must not trust too much to old friends. Times alter, and he may find he has applicants nearer at hand whose relatives have longer purses than I have. Don't fear, however, my boy, something may turn up, as it always does, if we seek diligently to get it and wait with patience." Ned did not then press the matter further; his spirits were buoyant, and although his uncle's remarks were not calculated to raise them, he was not disheartened. Edward Garth, the lieutenant's nephew, was the son of a younger sister, who had married a friend and messmate, a lieutenant in the same noble service in which he had spent his best days. They had served together in several ships up to the time that Garth was stricken down with fever up an African river, their ship then forming one of the blockading squadron on the west coast, when he committed his infant boy to his brother-in-law's care. "I am sure that you will look after him for our poor Fanny's sake; but she is delicate, and I know not what effect my death will have on her. At all events, he will be fatherless, and she, poor girl, will find it a hard matter to manage a spirited lad." "Do not let that thought trouble you, Ned," answered Lieutenant Pack; "Fanny's child shall ever be as if he were my own son. I promised to keep house with Sally, and Fanny shall come and live with us. A better soul than Sally does not exist, though I, who am her brother, say so." Soon after he had seen his brother-in-law laid in the grave, Lieutenant Pack came home to find that his sister Fanny had followed her husband to the other world, and that Sally had already taken charge of their young nephew. From that day forward she truly became a mother to the orphan, and as the lieutenant proved a kind, though not over indulgent father, Ned never felt the loss of his parents, and grew up all that his uncle and aunt could desire, rewarding them for their watchful care and judicious management of him. The lieutenant's means would not allow him to bestow an expensive education on his nephew, but he was enabled to send him to a neighbouring grammar school, where the boy, diligently taking advantage of such instruction as it afforded, soon reached the head of each class in which he was placed. Though first in all manly exercises, he made good use of his books at home, his uncle giving him lessons in mathematics and navigation, so that he was as well prepared for the profession he desired to enter as any boy of his age. Ned was a favourite with all who knew him. His home training had answered, for, though kind, it had been judicious. He was truthful and honest, and sincerely, desirous of doing his duty, while he was manly and good-tempered, ever ready to forgive an injury, though well capable of standing up for himself. Had the "Worcester" training-ship then been established, and had Ned gone on board her, he would probably have become a gold medallist, and that is saying much in his favour. His uncle delighted in his society--"Ned always made him feel young again," he used to say--and Aunt Sally bestowed upon him the affection of her kind and gentle heart. As to Mary, she thought there never had been, never could be, a boy equal to brother Ned, for so she always called him, ever looking on him as her brother. Ned faithfully returned the affectionate feelings evinced towards him by his relatives. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The one-legged lieutenant and his nephew continued their walk, the former stopping every now and then to impress a remark on Ned, or glancing over the ocean to observe the progress made by the outward-bound ship, until the row of whitewashed cottages, surmounted by a signal staff, which formed the coast-guard station of Longview, hove in sight. Lieutenant Hanson, who met them at a short distance from it, shook Ned and his uncle cordially by the band. "We came to learn how poor Herron is getting on," said the lieutenant. "He'll weather it, I hope; but it was a wonder he was not killed from his fall down the cliff, sixty feet, with exposure to the rain and wind during the whole of the night, for we did not find him until the morning," answered the coast-guard officer. "The accident was even of more consequence to others than to himself, for had it not occurred, we might have been in time to save some more of the poor fellows from the wreck." "That may be so; but had you come, my black man Tom Baraka and Ned here would have lost the opportunity of showing what they are made of, by pulling one of them out of the water," said Lieutenant Pack. "What! had you a hand in saving the passenger?" asked Lieutenant Hanson, turning to Ned. "Indeed he had, and had it not been for his courage I believe that the man would have been washed away again, for Tom was pretty well exhausted by that time," answered Lieutenant Pack. "You have begun well," said Mr Hanson, casting an approving look at Ned. "He has set his heart on going to sea, though I fear there is but little chance of his getting into the navy," observed Lieutenant Pack. "If he does, I hope that he may be more fortunate than some of his elders," answered the coast-guard lieutenant in a tone not very encouraging. The remark produced a momentary effect on Ned, but he soon forgot it, and was as eager as before to become a sailor. They proceeded on to the station, where, after visiting the injured man, for whom the old lieutenant had brought some delicacies made by Miss Sarah, he and his nephew set off to return home by a circuitous road, which ran a good way inland. They had got some way, when they caught sight of Miss Sarah and Mary in the distance. "Go, Ned, and see where those women-kind of ours are bound for," exclaimed the lieutenant. Ned ran forward. "We are going to visit Silas Shank the miser, as the people call him, though he must be very poor and miserable, as I cannot suppose that he would nearly starve himself if he had the means of buying proper food," answered Mary. "If I may, I will go with you," said Ned; "perhaps Uncle Pack would like to come also." The lieutenant, for whom they waited, however, preferred going home, and Miss Sally, giving her basket to Ned, returned with him, allowing her nephew to accompany Mary. "Just leave the pudding and jelly with the old man, and if he does not appear inclined to talk do not stop," said Miss Sally. Ned and Mary walked on, cheerfully conversing, as they were wont to do, for they had always plenty to say to each other, and Mary's tongue wagged as fast as that of any young lady of her age, though not so thoughtlessly as that of many. Ned naturally spoke of the ship he had seen running down channel. "I do not wish to be away from you all, but yet I did wish to be on board her, sailing to distant lands, to go among strange people, and to feel that I was doing something and learning to be an officer. It would be a fine thing to command a ship like that." "I wish as you wish; but, O Ned, you would be a long, long time absent from us--months and months, or perhaps years and years. Uncle Pack says that he was once five years without setting foot on English ground, and you might be as long away. We shouldn't know you when you came back; you will be grown into a big man, with a bronzed face and bushy whiskers." Mary laughed, though the tears at the same time came into her eyes. "But that was in the war-time, Mary, and even the Queen's ships are not now kept out for so long a period, while merchant vessels return every year, and sometimes from short voyages much oftener. And then think of all the curiosities I should bring home; I should delight in collecting them for you and Aunt Sally, or to add to Uncle Pack's museum." "Yes, yes, it would be a very joyous time when you did come back, we should be delighted to see all the things you brought; but then think how slowly the days will pass by when you are away, uncle and aunt and I all alone." "There would be only one less," said Ned, naturally. "Yes, I know," answered Mary--she stopped short--she did not say how large a space Ned occupied in her world. She was not aware of it herself just then. The subject was one which made her feel sadder than was her wont, and she was glad to change it. Old Shank's cottage was soon reached. It stood about half a mile from the village. It was situated in a hollow, an old quarry, by the side of a hill, the bare downs rising beyond it without a tree near. A desolate-looking place in its best days. Though containing several rooms--a large part of the roof having fallen in--it had only one which was habitable. In that lived Silas Shank the reputed miser. The palings which fenced it in had been broken down to be used as firewood. The gate was off its hinges; nettles and other hardy weeds had taken possession of the garden. Scarcely a pane of glass remained in any of the windows; even those of the rooms occupied by the miser were stuffed with rags, or had pieces of brown paper pasted over them. "I'll stay outside while you go in," said Ned; "the old man was very surly when I last saw him, and I do not wish to face him again. He can't be rough to you." Mary knocked at the door, which was tightly closed. "Who's there?" asked a tremulous voice. "It is I, Mary Pack; I've brought you something from aunt which she thought you would like to have." The bars were withdrawn. "Come in!" said the same voice, and the door was cautiously opened. Mary, without hesitation, entered in time to see a thin old man, in a tattered threadbare great-coat, with a red woollen cap on his head, and slippered feet, his stockings hanging about his ankles, totter back to an arm-chair from which he had risen, by the side of a small wood fire on which a pot was boiling. "That's all I've got for my dinner, with a few potatoes, but it's enough to keep body and soul together, and what more does a wretched being like me want?" he said in a querulous voice. "I have brought you something nice, as aunt knows you can't cook anything of the sort yourself, and you may eat it with more appetite than you can the potatoes," said Mary, placing the contents of the basket in some cracked plates on a rickety three-legged table which stood near the old man's chair. He eagerly eyed the tempting-looking pudding, a nicely cooked chop, and a delicious jelly. "Yes, that's more like what I once used to have," he muttered. "Thank you, thank you, little girl. I cannot buy such things for myself, but I am glad to get them from others. Sit down, pray do, after your walk," and he pointed to a high-backed oak chair, of very doubtful stability and covered with dust. He saw that Mary on that account hesitated to sit down, so rising he shambled forward and wiped it with an old cotton handkerchief which he drew out of his pocket. "There, now it's all clean and nice; you must sit down and rest, and see me eat the food, so that you may tell your aunt I sold none of it. The people say that I have parted with my coat off my back and the shoes from my feet, but do not believe them; if I did, it was on account of my poverty." Mary made no reply; it appeared to her that the old man was contradicting himself, and she did not wish to inquire too minutely into the matter. "This pudding must have cost a great deal," he continued, as he ate it mouthful by mouthful; "there's the flour, the milk, the raisins, and the sugar and spice, and other ingredients. Your aunt must be a rich woman to afford so dainty a dish for a poor man like me?" "No, I do not think Aunt Sally is at all rich, but she saves what little she can to give to the sick and needy; she heard that you were ill, Mr Shank, and had no one to care for you." "That's true, little girl, no one cares for the old miser, as they call me; and the boys, when I go into the village, throw stones at me, and jeer and shout at my heels. I hate boys!" "I'm sure Ned would not do that," said Mary; "he is always kind and gentle, and would beat off bad boys if he saw them treating you in that way." "No, he wouldn't, he would join them, and behave like the rest. They are all alike, boys! Mischievous little imps!" Mary felt very indignant at hearing Ned thus designated, but she repressed her rising anger, pitying the forlorn old man, and smiling, said, "You will find you are mistaken in regard to Ned, Mr Shank; he is outside, and I must not keep him waiting longer. But I was nearly forgetting that I have a book to give you, which Aunt Sally thought you would like to read. It is in large print, so that you need not try your eyes." Mary, as she spoke, produced a thin book from her basket, and presented it to the old man. He glanced at it with indifference. "I do not care about this sort of thing," he said. "I wonder people spend money in having such productions printed. A loss of time to print them, and a loss of time to read them!" "Aunt Sally will be much disappointed if you do not keep the book," said Mary, quietly; "you might like to read it when you are all alone and have nothing else to do." "Well, well, as she has sent me the pudding, I'll keep the book; she means kindly, I dare say, and I do not wish to make you carry it back. What! must you go, little girl? You'll come and see me again some day, and bring another nice pudding, won't you?" said the old man, looking at Mary with a more amiable expression in his eyes than they generally wore. "Yes, I must go, I cannot, indeed, keep Ned waiting longer. Good-bye, Mr Shank; you'll read the book, and I'll tell Aunt Sally what you say," said Mary, taking up her basket and tripping out of the room. "Don't let that boy Ned you spoke of throw stones in at my window. You see how others have broken the panes, and it would cost too much money to have them repaired." He said this as he followed Mary with a shuffling step to the door. "Ned would never dream of doing anything of the sort," she answered, now feeling greatly hurt at the remark. "They're all alike, they're all alike," muttered the old man; "but you, I dare say, can keep him in order. I didn't mean to offend you, little girl," he added, observing Mary's grave look, as she turned round to wish him good-bye before going through the doorway. The remark pacified her. "Poor old man!" she thought, "sickness makes him testy." "Good-bye, little girl," said Mr Shank, as he stood with his hand on the door-latch; "you'll come again soon?" "If Aunt Sally sends me; but you must promise not to accuse Ned wrongfully. Good-bye!" answered Mary, as she stepped over the threshold, the old man immediately closing and bolting the door. Ned, who had been on the watch at a little distance, sprang forward to meet her. She did not tell him what old Mr Shank had said, as she naturally thought that it would make him indignant; and like a wise girl she confined herself merely to saying how glad he seemed to be to get the food, and how pool and wretched he looked. Mary and Ned had a pleasant walk home. After this she paid several visits to old Mr Shank, sometimes with Aunt Sally, at others with the lieutenant and Ned, but she always carried the basket and presented the contents to the old man. Aunt Sally would not believe that he was really a miser, although the people called him one. The cottage was his own, and he obtained periodically a few shillings at the bank, but this was all he was known to possess, and the amount was insufficient to supply him with the bare necessaries of life. He picked up sticks and bits of coal which fell from carts for firing. He possessed a few goats, which lived at free quarters on the downs, and their winter food cost but little. He sold the kids and part of the milk which he did not consume. He seemed grateful to Mary, and talked to her more than to any one else; but to Aunt Sally and the lieutenant he rarely uttered a word beyond a cold expression of thanks for the gifts they bestowed upon him. Ned in the meantime was waiting anxiously for an answer to the letter his uncle had written Messrs. Clew, Earring and Grummet, the shipowners. After some delay a reply was received from a clerk, stating that Mr Clew was dead, and that the other partners were unable to comply with the lieutenant's request unless a considerable premium was paid, which was utterly beyond his means. This was a great disappointment to Ned. "Don't fret over it, my boy," said his uncle, "we shall all find many things to bear up against through life. There's a good time coming for all of us, if we'll only wait patiently for it. I ought to have been an admiral, and so I might if my leg hadn't been knocked away by a Turkish round shot at Navarin; but you see, notwithstanding, I am as happy as a prince. As far as I myself am concerned I have no reasonable want unsupplied, though I should like to have your very natural wish complied with." Still week after week went by; the lieutenant wrote several other letters, but the answers were unsatisfactory. At last he began to talk of going up himself to town to call on the Admiralty, and to beard the lions in their den; but it was an undertaking the thoughts of which he dreaded far more than had he been ordered to head a boarding party against an enemy's ship. He talked the matter over with his sister Sally. "If we want a thing we must go for it, if we don't want it we may stay at home and not get it," he observed. "If I felt anything like sure that I should succeed by pressing my claim, I'd go ten times as far; but my belief is, that I shall be sent back with a flea in my ear." "Still, what can poor Ned do if he doesn't go to sea, though I wish that we could have found him some employment on shore suited to his taste," said Miss Sarah. "Well, I'll make up my mind about the matter," said the lieutenant, who was as anxious as his sister to forward Ned's wishes. "I can but ask, you know, and if I am refused, I shall have good reason for grumbling for the next year to come, or to the end of my days. I'll go and talk the subject over with Hanson; he knows more about the ways of the Admiralty than I do, and will give me a wrinkle or two. In the meantime do you get my old uniform brushed up and my traps ready." Next morning the old lieutenant, summoning Ned, set off to pay a visit to his brother officer. Ned was in high spirits at hearing that steps were actually being taken to promote his object, and he expressed his gratitude to his uncle for the effort he was about to make on his behalf. All difficulties seemed to vanish, and he already saw himself a midshipman on board a fine ship sailing down channel. Lieutenant Hanson was not very sanguine when he heard of his friend's intention. "There is nothing like asking, however, and they can't eat you, though you may be refused," he answered. "Go by all means; get to the Admiralty early, step boldly in, and show that you fully expect to have your request granted. Say that the boy will soon be over age, and consequently there is no time to be lost." [See Note 1.] Although the old lieutenant had not received much encouragement from Mr Hanson, yet some of the difficulties he had apprehended appeared to clear away, and he walked home with Ned, resolved to carry out his project. The cost of his expedition was now his chief anxiety. He pictured to himself the risk of running short of funds in the great metropolis, and being unable to pay his journey back. Then Sally would be hard put to it for many a long month. "His small income, poor lad, won't go far to defray his outfit and allowance," he said to himself as he walked along. "Still it must be done, and we'll find the ways and means. If the worst comes to the worst, I'll go to sea, and take Ned with me. I wonder I never thought of that before. It will make some amends to him for not entering the navy; he'd soon become a prime seaman under my charge, and in a few years get the command of a ship." Such were some of the thoughts which passed through the worthy officer's mind, but he did not express them aloud. While pointing his telescope seaward, an employment in which he seldom failed to spend a part of the day, he caught sight of a cutter standing for the bay. As the tide had just turned, and the wind was falling, it was evident that she was about to bring up. In a short time her commander, Lieutenant Jenkins, came on shore, and proved to be an old messmate of Mr Pack. On hearing of his intention of going to London, Lieutenant Jenkins at once offered him a passage as far as Portsmouth. The invitation was gladly accepted, as a considerable expense would thus be saved. Miss Sally having packed her brother's traps, he, late in the evening, went on board the cutter, which, just as darkness set in, sailed for the westward. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. At the period we are speaking of, the rule had not been formed which makes it necessary for boys to undergo a training on board the "Britannia" before they can become midshipmen. The Admiralty either appointed them to ships, or captains had the privilege of taking certain number selected by themselves. CHAPTER FOUR. Several days had passed by, and no news had been received from the lieutenant. Aunt Sally began to grow anxious, though she pursued her ordinary avocations in her usual calm manner. Desirous as she was of being economical, she did not forget poor old Mr Shank, and Mary and Ned were despatched with some provisions which she had prepared, and another book from her lending-library for him. Mary, remembering his dislike to boys, went in alone, leaving Ned to amuse himself outside. "I'll not be long, and I want you to walk up and down out of sight of his window, or he may, if he sees you, say something unpleasant," observed Mary. Ned, though he cared very little as to what the old man might say about him, did not wish to have Mary's feelings hurt, and promising obedience, walked on to a spot whence he could watch for her when she came out. She rapped at the door, the bolts were withdrawn, and she entered. "Glad to see you, little girl," said Mr Shank, as he led the way into his room. "No one has come here for many a day. I am well-nigh starving, for the people in the village yonder do not trouble themselves about the wretched old miser, as they call me; and I could not go out yesterday to buy food--if I did, where was I to get the money to pay for it?" "Aunt, fearing that you might be in want, has sent you something to eat," said Mary, unpacking her basket, and placing the contents on the three-legged table. The old man drew it towards him, and began to eat far more voraciously than usual, showing that in one respect at all events his assertion was correct. Mary, thinking that it might amuse him, mentioned the lieutenant's journey to London and its object. "So they intend to send that boy off to sea! The best thing they can do with him. Boys are always up to mischief at home, and it is to be hoped he'll never come back." "You should not say that, Mr Shank!" exclaimed Mary, indignantly. "Ned is a good honest boy, he never harmed you in any way, and if he had it is your duty to forgive him, for God tells us in His Word to forgive our enemies, and do good to those who ill-treat us." "I don't understand that; if we are not to hate our enemies, who and what are we to hate?" muttered the old man. "We are to hate nothing except sin and Satan, because that is what God hates, I am very sure," said Mary. "Doesn't the book I brought you last week say that? And here is another which aunt has sent you, perhaps you will like to read it," and she put the volume on the table. "What the book says doesn't concern me. I do no harm to any one; all I want is to lead a quiet life and be let alone," he muttered, evidently not wishing to enter into a discussion with the little girl, fearing perhaps that he might lose his temper. He, however, took the book she had brought and gave her back the other, observing, "Perhaps your aunt will lend it me at some other time if I feel ill and fancy I am going to die; but I shan't die yet, O no, no, I want to live a great many years longer." "I hope that you may, if you wish it," said Mary. She did not add, "I wonder what the poor old man can find so pleasant in his existence as to make him desire to live?" She did not again refer to Ned, but shortly got up, and told Mr Shank that she must be going. "What! do you come all this way alone merely to visit a wretched being like me?" he exclaimed, as she moved towards the door. "No, Ned comes with me, and he is waiting to take me back," she answered. "Why didn't he come in and sit down until you were ready to go?" he asked. "Because, Mr Shank, he knows that you dislike boys," said Mary. "Perhaps, as you think so well of him, he may not be so bad as others. When you come again bring him in; I'll not scold him if he speaks civilly to me, and doesn't attempt to play me tricks." "He'll not play you tricks, and I'm sure that he'll speak properly to you," answered Mary, considerably mollified by Mr Shank's last remark. She was glad, however, that Ned was not in sight, as she still somewhat mistrusted the old man. As soon as the door was closed she looked about for Ned, and spied him hurrying up. "He wants to see you," she said when Ned joined her, "so you must come in when Aunt Sally next sends me to him. He is a strange being. I wonder how he can manage to spend his time all by himself?" They walked home chattering merrily, though Ned was a little more thoughtful than usual, wondering why his uncle had not written; and as soon as he had seen Mary safe at home, he hurried off to consult Lieutenant Hanson about the matter. "Why," said Ned to the lieutenant, "has uncle not written?" "Simply that he has had nothing to say, or has had no time to write, or if he has written, his letter may have gone astray," answered the lieutenant. "You must exercise patience, my young friend; you'll find plenty of that required in this world." Ned returned home not much wiser than he went, but a brisk walk and the fresh air revived his spirits. Next morning's post brought the looked-for letter, addressed to Miss Sarah Pack. She hurriedly opened it, while the young people looked eagerly on, watching her countenance. That, however, betrayed no satisfaction. The lieutenant's handwriting required time to decipher, though the characters were bold enough and covered a large sheet of paper. "Dear Sally," it began, "I have been to the Admiralty and seen the First Lord, having reached this big city, and lost my way half-a-dozen times in it, four days after I left you. We had calms and light winds the whole distance to Portsmouth. His lordship received me with a profound bow, as if I had been an admiral, listened attentively to all I had to say, and I made up my mind that he was the politest gentleman I had ever met, and fully intended to grant my request. When I had finished, he glanced his eye down a long list, which he held up so that I could see it, remarking that there were a number of promising lads who desired to enter the service, but that he much feared he should be compelled to disappoint them. My claims were great, and he was surprised that his predecessors had not acknowledged them by promoting me; that he had no doubt my brother-in-law would have been an ornament to the service had he lived; that I ought to have sent his son's name in long ago, and that he would take the matter into consideration. He desired me to leave my address, advising me not to remain in town, as it might be some time before I was likely to hear from him; he then politely bowed me out of the room. Whether or not anything will come of it is more than I can divine. In my humble opinion my visit to London will prove bootless; it can't be helped, Sally, so cheer up, and don't let Ned get out of spirits. I am going to call on two or three shipowners, of whom Jenkins, who knows more of London than I do, has told me, for if Ned cannot get into the navy, he must make up his mind to enter the merchant service. I'll write more when I have more to communicate, so, with love to the young ones, I remain, your affectionate brother, John Pack." Aunt Sally had to confess to herself that the letter was not encouraging, still she did her best to follow her brother's advice. "Perhaps the First Lord doesn't like to make promises, but he must be a good man, or he would not hold the position he does, and I dare say he'll do his best. We may have a letter even before your uncle comes back, saying that you are appointed to a ship. It can't be so difficult a thing to make a midshipman. Had your uncle, however, asked to be promoted, I should not have been surprised had he been refused. It is very kind of the First Lord to receive him so well and to listen to all he had to say; we should not expect too much from great men." Miss Sally ran on in the same strain for some time, but all she said failed to impart much confidence to poor Ned; still his uncle might succeed in getting him on board a merchant vessel, and like a prudent lad, he was ready for whatever might turn up. Next morning Ned eagerly looked out for the postman, but no letter arrived; another and another day passed by. It was too evident that the lieutenant had no news to communicate. Some days after, just as evening was approaching, a post chaise was seen slowly descending the winding road which led down to the cottage. Miss Sally, followed by Ned, Mary, and Tom, hurried out. Ned darted forward to let down the steps, while Tom opened the door. The lieutenant, leaning on the black's shoulder, stepped out. Though he smiled at seeing those he loved, his countenance showed that he had no good news to communicate. "I'll tell you all about it when I have refreshed the inner man," he said, as, after paying the driver and telling Tom to look after him, he stumped into the house; "I am at present somewhat sharp set. It is several hours since I took anything on board in the shape of provisions, and my jaw tackles want greasing before I can make them work." Aunt Sally and Mary quickly got supper ready, and the lieutenant having said grace, took his seat at the table. Having eaten a few mouthfuls he looked mere cheerful than he had hitherto done. His sister and the young people were longing to hear what he had got to say. "I told you I did not expect much from my visit to London, but it is wrong to allow ourselves to be cast down because things don't go as smoothly as we could wish," he at length observed. "I wrote you about my visit to the Admiralty; well, after that, believing that their lordships were not likely to do much for me, I called on three shipowners to whom Jenkins had given me introductions. They were civil enough, but all gave me the same sort of answer. They had numerous applications to receive on board their ships youngsters whose friends could pay handsome premiums, and in duty to themselves they were compelled to accept such in preference to others, willing as they were to attend to the recommendation of Lieutenant Jenkins. When I offered to take command of one of their ships, they replied, that as I had been some time on shore I might have grown rusty, and that they were obliged to employ officers brought up in their own service, though they could not doubt my abilities, and were duly grateful for the offer I had made them. They would consider the matter, and let me know the result to which they might come, but no promise could be made on the subject." Miss Sally looked greatly relieved when she heard that it was not likely her brother would go to sea, anxious as she was that poor Ned should obtain the object of his wishes. "We must not despair, however," said the lieutenant. "We know that God orders all for the best, if we trust Him and do our duty; perhaps something will turn up when we least expect it. I have been thinking, Ned, how I can raise money enough to pay the required premium, and if I can do that the matter will be quickly settled. After two or three voyages to India, Australia, or round Cape Horn, you will have obtained sufficient experience to become a mate. You will then be independent and able to gain your own livelihood." "That is what I wish to do, uncle," answered Ned, gulping down his disappointment at the thoughts that he should be unable to enter the navy, and some day become a Nelson or a Collingwood. In truth, matters stood very much as they were before the lieutenant's journey, and he had to confess to himself that the cost and trouble had apparently been thrown away. "Well, well, Ned, we'll go on with our mathematics and navigation, and wait patiently for what may occur. You are young yet, and won't be the worse for a few months more spent on shore if you make good use of your time." Ned followed his uncle's advice, and did his utmost to overcome his disappointment. Things went on much as usual at Triton Cottage. Ned frequently got a pull in a revenue boat, but his great delight was to take a sail in one of the fishing crafts belonging to the bay, when the fishermen, with whom he was an especial favourite, gave him instruction in steeling and other nautical knowledge, so that he learned how to handle a boat, to furl and shorten sail, to knot and splice, as well as to row. His uncle always encouraged him to go when the weather was moderate, but on two or three occasions when it came on unexpectedly to blow, and the boats were kept out, poor Aunt Sally was put into a great state of trepidation until he came back safe. Nearly a month had passed since the lieutenant's return home, and no letter had been received either from the Admiralty or from any of the shipowners. The family were seated at tea. The lieutenant could not help occasionally speaking of the subject which occupied his thoughts, generally concluding by saying, "Well, never mind, something may turn up!" Just then a ring was heard at the door, and Jane put her head in to say that Mr Hanson had called. "I'll bring him in to take a cup of tea," said the lieutenant, rising and stumping out of the room. He soon returned with his friend. "Well, Pack, I've come to wish you and Miss Sarah good-bye," said their guest. "Commander Curtis, an old friend of mine, has been appointed to the `Ione' corvette, fitting out for the Cape station, and he has applied for me as his first lieutenant. Though I had made up my mind to remain on shore, as he is a man I should like to serve under, I have accepted his offer, and am going off to join the ship as soon as I can be relieved--in two or three days, I hope." Ned listened, expecting that something else of interest to him was about to follow, but he was disappointed. He was not aware that even a first lieutenant could not obtain a berth for a midshipman. "Very sorry to lose you, Hanson," said Lieutenant Pack; "you, I daresay will be glad to get afloat again, as there is a better chance of promotion than you would have on shore. We never know what may turn up. We may be at loggerheads with the French, or Russians, or some other people before your commission is over." Their guest saw Ned looking at him. He divined the boy's thoughts. "I wish that I had power to take you with me, Ned, but I have not, and I very much fear that the commander will have given away his appointment, and he has but one. However, when I accepted his proposal, I wrote saying that I had a young friend who wished to go to sea, and should be very glad if he would nominate him. I'll let you know as soon as I get his answer, but I do not want unduly to arouse your expectations." Ned heartily thanked his friend for his good intentions towards him, as did his uncle. "I knew you would serve him, Hanson, if you could, and if you are not successful, I'll take the will for the deed," said the old lieutenant, as he shook the hand of his guest, whom he accompanied to the door. Two days afterwards a note came from Lieutenant Hanson, enclosing one from the commander of the "Ione," regretting that he had already filled up his nomination, and had just heard that the Admiralty had already promised the only other vacancy. "It can't be helped, Ned," said Lieutenant Pack, in a tone which showed how disheartened he was, although he did not intend to exhibit his feelings. "Cheer up, we must not be cast down, we'll still hope that something will turn up. In the meantime we'll try and be as happy as we can. Aunt Sally and Mary are not tired of you, nor am I, my boy. It's only because I know that you wish to be doing something, and that you are right in your wishes, that I regret this delay." Mary, though sympathising with Ned, could not from her heart say that she was sorry. For the last two days she had been expecting to hear that he would have to go off immediately. Next morning the postman was seen coming up to the door with an official-looking letter in his hand, and another of ordinary appearance; Ned ran out to receive them. The first was addressed to Lieutenant Pack, R.N. He opened it with far more agitation than he was wont to exhibit. His countenance brightened. "Ned, my boy!" he exclaimed, "this letter has reference to you. My Lords do recognise my services--it is gratifying, very gratifying--and they have nominated you as a volunteer of the first class to Her Majesty's ship `Ione,' Commander Curtis, now fitting out at Portsmouth; the very ship of which Hanson is to be first lieutenant. This is fortunate. If he has not started, I'll get him to take you to Portsmouth, and arrange your outfit. He'll do it, I am sure, and will stand your friend if you do your duty; I know that you will do that, and become an honour to the service, as your father would have been had he lived." Suddenly a thought seemed to strike the lieutenant. He had forgotten a very important matter--the difficulty of obtaining the required funds. The balance at his banker's would not meet the expenses to which he himself must be put, even although the commander might not insist on the usual allowance made to midshipmen. He was silent, thinking of what could be done, and overlooking the envelope which lay on the table beneath the official dispatch. "Surely there was another letter," remarked Aunt Sally. "I wonder who it can come from?" "Bless me! so there is," said the lieutenant, glad to have for a moment another occupation for his thoughts. He examined the address, and then the coat of arms on the seal, before breaking it open, which he did deliberately, as if he did not expect to find anything of interest within. His countenance had brightened when he saw the letter from the Admiralty, but it lighted up still more as he read the letter. "Well, I little expected this from a stranger, at least from one on whom we have no possible claim. Most liberal and generous. I said something would turn up. What do you think, Sally? I really can scarcely read it for the satisfaction it gives me, but I'll try. It begins-- "My dear Friend,--A severe illness has prevented me hitherto from communicating with you, and from the same cause I was unable to attempt forwarding your nephew's views; but as soon as I was well enough I applied to the Admiralty, and their lordships, in consideration of your own and brother-in-law's services, promised to nominate his son to the first ship fitting out. I have to-day heard that he has been appointed to the `Ione.' As I am aware that his outfit and allowance while at sea will entail certain expenses, I have requested Commander Curtis to draw on my bankers for the latter, while I beg to enclose a cheque for a hundred pounds, which will cover the cost of his outfit, and it will afford me great satisfaction to defray any further expenses which unexpectedly may occur." The letter was signed, "Your faithful and deeply-obliged friend, J. Farrance." The tears started into Aunt Sally's eyes as she heard the letter read. They were tears which showed how grateful she felt at the thought of her brother's anxieties being relieved, mingled, however, with the feeling that dear Ned was so soon to leave them. "How very, very kind of Mr Farrance to help you to become a midshipman, and some day you may perhaps be made a lieutenant. I am indeed glad!" exclaimed Mary, though her faltering voice and the tears which filled her eyes belied her words, as she remembered that Ned must go away, and perhaps not come back for many long years. "This is indeed far better than I could have hoped for," observed the lieutenant, who had been again glancing over the letter while his sister and Mary had been talking. Ned himself for a minute or more could not utter a word. "We must lose no time in setting about doing what is necessary," continued the lieutenant. "Sally, you'll get his things ready as fast as you can. He will only require, however, a change or two, to serve him until he can obtain his outfit. I'll write to the Admiralty to say that he will join the `Ione' forthwith, and to Mr Farrance to thank him for his generous offer, which I will accept for Ned, although I might have thought twice about it had it been made more directly in my favour. Ned, as soon as you have breakfasted, start away for Longview station. Give Mr Hanson my regards, and say I shall be grateful to him if he will take you under his wing to Portsmouth, and arrange about your outfit; it will save me the expense of the journey, though I should wonderfully like to see you on board your ship, to introduce you to the captain and your future messmates. Sally, give Ned some slices of bread and butter, while Mary pours me out a cup of tea." Ned having diligently set to work to swallow the food, in less than a minute declared himself ready to start. "But you have taken nothing, my poor boy!" exclaimed Aunt Sally. "I can eat the rest on the way," answered Ned, showing a slice of bread which he had doubled up and put into his pocket. "All right, you'll do well!" said his uncle, nodding approvingly. "When you receive an order, lose no time in executing it." Ned ran off, sprang up the hill with the agility of a deer, and made his way to the coast-guard station faster than he had ever before performed the distance. Standing at the door he found a stranger, who inquired his errand. "Mr Hanson started this morning, or he would have been happy to take charge of you, youngster," was the answer he received. "But my son Charley is to join the `Ione' in a couple of days, and you can accompany him. As he has been to sea before, he will look after you and keep you out of mischief. Tell your uncle, as I don't want to bring him all this way, that I will, with his leave, call upon him in the course of the morning to make the necessary arrangements. I'll make you known, however, to my son before you go back; come in and have some breakfast." "Thank you, sir, I have already had mine, and my uncle wants me to return as soon as possible; but I shall be glad to be introduced to your son. Who shall I tell my uncle you are, sir?" "Say Lieutenant Meadows; we were for a short time messmates as midshipmen on board the old `Goliath,' and I knew his brother-in-law, poor Garth. Was he your father?" "Yes, sir," answered Ned. "I'm very glad that his son and mine are to be together. Charley!" he shouted, turning round. At the summons, a fine-looking lad in a midshipman's uniform, about two years older than Ned, made his appearance, his face well bronzed by a tropical sun and sea air. Ned thought at once, from the look he had at his countenance, that he should like him. Lieutenant Meadows introduced the boys to each other, and they shook hands, Charley saying that he should be very glad to be of any service to his future messmate. Ned, after exchanging a few words, wished his new friends good-bye, and hurried homewards, well pleased at the thoughts of having a companion on his journey who would put him up to what he would have to do on board ship. This would make amends for his disappointment at not being able to accompany Mr Hanson; Ned had not then learned to hold in any especial awe the first lieutenant of a man-of-war, or he might greatly have preferred the society of the midshipman to that of his superior officer. "I would rather you had been able to accompany Hanson," observed his uncle, when Ned made his report. "This youngster may be a very steady fellow, and do his best to help you, or he may be much the contrary and try to lead you into all sorts of mischief; we cannot always judge by the outside appearance. No, I won't risk it, I'll go with you and take charge of you both; his father won't object to that. I shall save Hanson the trouble of getting your outfit--he'll have quite enough to do--and I'll introduce you to your commander. Yes, yes, that will be the best plan." In the course of the forenoon Lieutenant Meadows and his son Charley paid their promised visit to Triton Cottage. The two old shipmates soon recognised each other, and were well pleased with the anticipation of having long yarns together about former days. The visitors were introduced to Aunt Sally and Mary. The arrangements for the journey were soon concluded, for Mr Meadows, knowing what youngsters are made of, was happy to place his son in charge of a brother officer, who would look after him until he had joined his new ship. While Ned was sent out of the room with a message to Jane and Tom to get luncheon ready, Mary, though somewhat timidly, managed to get near Charley Meadows. "I want you to be kind to Ned, to take good care of him," she whispered. "You do not know what a good boy he is; and we are very, very sorry for him to go away, though we try to look cheerful, as he wants to become a sailor, and we do not like to prevent him." "Of course, young lady, for your sake I'll take as much care of him as I can," answered Charley, looking down at Mary's sweet face, as she raised it with an imploring look to his. "But I want you to take care of him for his own sake, and be a brother to him, for he has no brother of his own, and, except Lieutenant Hanson, who knows him, he will be among strangers." "Mr Hanson is first lieutenant of the ship, and will be able to take much better care of him than I can," said Charley, "but I promise you I will look after him and fight for him if necessary; but he seems a young fellow who can stand up for himself, though, as he has not been to sea before, he will be rather green at first." "Thank you, thank you!" said Mary. "I felt that I must ask you, for you do not know how we all love him." "He is a fortunate fellow," observed Charley, smiling, "and I daresay he will make friends wherever he goes; at all events, I promise that I will be his friend if he will let me." "O yes, I am sure he will; I am so glad that I spoke to you." "All right, little lady, set your mind at rest on that score," said Charley. "Here comes your brother." Before Mary could explain that Ned was not her brother, (indeed she so completely looked upon him as a brother that she often forgot that he was not so), he entered the room. Mary's heart was greatly relieved at the thoughts that Ned had already found a friend among his future messmates. CHAPTER FIVE. Two days afterwards found the one-legged lieutenant and his young companions on their way to Portsmouth. Ned bore the parting manfully, though he did not the less acutely feel having to wish good-bye to Aunt Sally, Mary, and Tom Baraka. "If you go to my country, Massa Ned, an' if you see any ob my people, tell dem where Tom Baraka is," said the black, as he wrung Ned's hand. "Dare is one ting I long for--to find my wife and boy, and to tell dem dat I Christian, an' want dem to be Christian also." "You have not told me your son's name, so that even should I meet him, I should not know that he is your son," said Ned. "Him called Chando," answered Tom. "Him know dat name when you call him." "And your wife--what is her name?" asked Ned. "Him--Masika," said Tom after a few moments' thought--it was so long since he had uttered his wife's name. "O Massa Ned, you bring dem back, and God bless you." "Chando--Masika," repeated Ned. "But I am afraid that there is very little chance of my finding your family, Tom, though I should be truly thankful to meet with them; I don't know even to what part of the coast of Africa I am going. It is a large country, and though I may see thousands of the inhabitants, those you care for may not be among them." "Massa Ned, if God wish to bring dem to you, He can find de way," said the black, in a tone of simple faith. "I no say He will do it, but He can do it, dat I know." Ned did not forget this conversation with poor Tom, not that he entertained the slightest hope that he should fall in with his wife or son; indeed, should he do so, how should he possibly know them? He determined, however, to ask all the Africans he might meet with where they came from, and should it appear that they were natives of the part of the country Tom had described to him, to make more minute inquiries. He knew as well as Tom that God can bring about whatever He thinks fit; but he was too well instructed not to know that our Heavenly Father does not always act as men wish or think best--for that He sees what man in his blindness does not. No one, except Mary, perhaps, missed Ned more than did Tom Baraka. Poor Mary! it was her first great trial in life. She found more difficulty than she had ever done before in learning her lessons, and she about her daily avocations with a far less elastic step than was her wont. She was too young, however, to remain long sorrowful, and was as pleased as ever to accompany Aunt Sally on her rounds among her poor neighbours. The travellers reached Portsmouth, and repaired to the "Blue Posts," the inn at which Mr Pack had been accustomed to put up in his younger days. Next morning he took the two boys on board the "Ione," which lay alongside the hulk off the dockyard. Lieutenant Hanson, who had already joined, received them in a kind manner, which made Charley whisper to Ned that they were all right, as it was clear that their first lieutenant was not one of those stiff chaps who look as if they had swallowed pokers, and he hoped that their commander was of the same character. Two days passed rapidly away in visiting the numerous objects of interest to be seen at Portsmouth. Ned's kit was ready, and his uncle finally took him on board the "Ione," which had cast off from the hulk, and was getting ready to go out to Spithead. Ned was introduced to the commander, who shook his uncle and him by the hand in a friendly way. "I hope that the ship will be a happy one," said Captain Curtis. "It will depend much on his messmates and him whether it is so, and they'll find me ready to serve them if they act as I trust may." The next day the "Ione" went out to Spithead, the one-legged lieutenant, by the commander's invitation, being on board. With a beaming eye he watched Ned, who performed various duties in a way which showed that he knew well what he was about. "He'll do, he'll do," he said to himself more than once. "Meadows, too, seems an active young fellow. Nothing could have turned out better." At length the moment for parting came. Ned accompanied his uncle down the side, and again and again the kind old lieutenant wrung his hand before he stepped into the wherry which was to carry him to shore. Ned stood watching the boat, thinking of his uncle and his home, until he was recalled to himself by the boatswain's whistle summoning the crew to weigh anchor and make sail. With a fair breeze and all canvas spread, the "Ione" stood out through the Needle Passage on her course down channel. As she came off that part of the coast where his boyhood had been spent, he turned a wistful gaze in that direction, knowing that although the lieutenant was not at home, his telescope would be pointed seaward, and that even then Mary might be looking at the graceful ship which floated like a swan over the calm water. The Lizard was the last point of land seen, and the "Ione" stood out into the broad Atlantic. "Well, Ned, we are at sea at last, you really have shown yourself more of a man than I expected," said Charley Meadows. "What should have made you fancy I should have been otherwise?" asked Ned. "Why, you've been brought up so much at home that I was afraid you'd prove rather too soft for the life you'll have to lead on board. However, I have no fear about that, whatever others may think. Some of the fellows may try to bully you because you are the youngest on board, but keep your temper, and do not let them see that you know what they are about; I'll back you up, and they'll soon cease annoying you." Ned followed his friend's advice, and managed without quarrelling or fighting to obtain the respect of even the least well-disposed of his messmates. Charley was at first inclined to exhibit a somewhat patronising manner towards Ned, who, however, wisely did not show that he perceived this, nor did he in the slightest degree resent it. He from the first had endeavoured to gain all the nautical knowledge he possibly could, and was never ashamed of asking for information from those able to afford it. "That's the way to become a seaman," observed Mr Dawes the boatswain, to whom he frequently went when he wanted any matter explained. "Come to me as often as you like, and I shall be glad to tell you what I know; and I ought to know a thing or two, as I've been at sea, man and boy, pretty near five-and-twenty years, though I've not got much book-learning." Ned thanked him, promising to take advantage of his offer, and, as was natural, became a great favourite with the boatswain. Ned was well up in many of the details of seamanship, and having been accustomed to boats all his life, was as well able to manage one as anybody on board. He quickly learned to go aloft, and to lay out on the yards to reef or loose the sails, while he was as active and fearless as many a far older seaman. His knowledge of navigation too was considerable, his uncle having taken great pains to instruct him, he, on his part, being always anxious to learn. Charley, therefore, in a short time, finding that Ned was not only his equal in most respects, but his superior in several, dropped his patronising manner, and they became faster friends than ever. The first lieutenant, Mr Hanson, did not fail to remark Ned's progress, and calling him up, expressed his approval. "Go on as you have begun, Garth, and you will become a good officer. The commander has his eye on you, and will always, you may depend upon it, prove your friend." Although with most of his messmates Ned got on very well, two or three, it was very evident, disliked him on account of his zeal and good conduct, which reflected, they might have considered, on their behaviour. The senior mate in the berth, "Old Rhymer" as he was called, who was soured by disappointment at not obtaining his commission, as he thought he ought to have done long ago, took every opportunity of finding fault with him, and was continually sneering at what he said when at the mess table. If he attempted to reply, O'Connor, the eldest of the midshipmen, was sure to come down on him and join Rhymer. "You'll be after getting a cobbing, Master Garth, if you don't keep your tongue quiet in presence of your elders," exclaimed the latter. "I have said nothing to offend any one," said Ned. "We are the judges of that," replied O'Connor, beginning to knot his handkerchief in an ominous fashion. "You and Meadows are becoming too conceited by half, because the first lieutenant and the commander have taken it into their heads that you are something above the common." "I have no reason to suppose that from anything they have said to me," answered Ned. "The first lieutenant merely advised me to go on doing my duty, and that is what I intend to do; I don't see how that should offend you." "We are the best judges of what is offensive and what is not, Master Jackanapes," exclaimed Rhymer, "so take that for daring to reply," and he threw a biscuit across the berth, which would have hit Ned on the eye had he not ducked in time to avoid it. "Thank you for your good intentions, Rhymer," said Ned, picking up the biscuit and continuing to eat the duff on which he was engaged. O'Connor meantime went on knotting his handkerchief, and only waiting for a word from Rhymer to commence operations on Ned's back. Ned took no notice, but as soon as he had finished dinner he sprang up and made for the door of the berth. "Stop that youngster!" exclaimed Rhymer; "he is not to set our authority at defiance. Come back I say, Garth." No one, however, laid a hand on Ned, who, making his way round on the locker behind his companions' backs, gained the door. O'Connor, eager to obey the old mate's commands, made a spring over the table, and in so doing caught the table-cloth with his foot, and toppling over on his face, brought it after him with the plates and other articles to the deck outside the berth, where he lay struggling, amid shouts of laughter from his messmates. Ned reached the upper deck before O'Connor had regained his legs. The latter was not inclined to follow him, though he vowed he would be revenged on the first opportunity. Ned was soon joined by Charley Meadows. "You have made enemies of those two fellows, and they'll pay you off some day," observed Charley. "I am sorry for that, though I do not fear their enmity, and I will try and make friends with them as soon as possible," answered Ned. He watched for an opportunity, and was careful not to say anything in the berth likely to offend his elders. Notwithstanding, they continued to treat him much in the same way, though O'Connor forbore the use of the cob, as he had promised, finding that public opinion was decidedly against him. Week after week went by, the "Ione" steadily continuing her course to the southward. A heavy gale came on, which, though it lasted but a few days, served to show that Ned was not only a fair-weather sailor, but could do his duty in foul weather as well as in fine. Then there were calms and light winds. The line was passed. Much to O'Connor's disappointment, the commander would not allow the usual customs, having given notice that he should not receive "Daddy Neptune" and his Tritons on board. The ship put into Rio, in South America, which, though apparently out of her course, was not really so. Having remained a few days in that magnificent harbour, and obtained a supply of fresh provisions and water, she again sailed, and soon fell in with the south-easterly trade wind, which carried her rapidly without a tack across the Atlantic. Table Bay was soon reached, and the officers were anticipating a run on shore, when the commander received orders to sail immediately for the east coast, to assist in putting a stop to the trade in slaves, said to be carried on along it for the supply of the Persian and Arabian markets. Many of the mess grumbled at being sent off so soon again to sea, and declared that they would have remained on shore had they known they were to be engaged in such abominable work. "I have heard all about it," exclaimed Rhymer. "We shall never have a moment's quiet, but be chasing those Arab dhows night and day, and if we capture any, have to crowd up our decks with hundreds of dirty blackamoors, whom we shall be obliged to nurse and feed until we can set them on shore, with the chances of fever or small-pox and all sorts of complaints breaking out among them." Very different were Ned's feelings when he heard the news; it was the very station to which he had hoped the ship might be sent. His knowledge of the good qualities possessed by Tom Baraka made him sure that the blacks were not the despicable race some of his messmates were disposed to consider them. They, at all events, had immortal souls, and might with the same advantages become as civilised and as good a Christian as Tom was. There was a possibility, though a very remote one, that he might fall in with Tom's wife and child, and he pictured to himself the satisfaction of being able to restore them to liberty. He did not, however, express his feelings, except to Charley, as he considered, justly, that it would be like throwing pearls before swine to say anything of the sort to Rhymer or O'Connor, who would only have laughed at him. The "Ione" had a quick passage round the south coast of Africa, and she now entered the Mozambique Channel. The chart showed that she had reached the twentieth degree of south latitude, and about the forty-first of east longitude. Away to the west, though far out of sight, were the mouths of the Zambesi river, whose waters have been explored from their source to the ocean by the energetic Livingstone, while to the right was the magnificent island of Madagascar, many of whose long benighted people have since accepted the Gospel. The ship glided on over the smooth sea, her sails spread to a gentle southerly breeze. The heat was great; it had been rapidly increasing. As the hot sun shone down from a cloudless sky on the deck, the pitch bubbled up as if a fire were beneath it, and O'Connor declared that he could cook a beef steak, if he had one, on the capstan head. "Hot, do you call it?" observed Rhymer, who had before been in those seas. "Wait until we get under the line; we may roast an ox there by tricing it up to the fore-yard, and even then should have to lower it into the sea every now and then to prevent it being done too quickly." Every shady spot was eagerly sought for by officers and crew, though, as the air was pure, no one really suffered by the heat. Other smaller islands were passed, though not seen--among them Johanna and Comoro, inhabited by dark-skinned races. At last the island of Zanzibar, close in with the African coast, was sighted, and as the breeze blew off its undulating plains, Ned and Charley agreed that they could inhale the perfume of its spice groves and its many fragrant flowers. As the ship drew nearer the land, on the lower ground could be distinguished large plantations of sugar-cane, with forests of cocoa-nut trees, just beyond the line of shining sands separating them from the blue water, while here and there rose low rocky cliffs of varied tints of red and brown. On the uplands were seen rows of clove-trees ranged in exact order between the plantations, groups of palm or dark-leaved mangoes, with masses of wild jungle, where nature was still allowed to have its own way. Further on white flat-roofed buildings with numerous windows appeared in sight; then the harbour opened up, in which floated a crowd of vessels of all nations, some with red banners floating from their mast-heads, forming the sultan's navy, others English ships of war, merchantmen, countless dhows with high sterns and strange rigs; then more houses and terraces with arches and colonnades came into view, with several consular flags flying above them. "That's Zanzibar, the capital of the sultan of that ilk. A very beautiful place you may think it," said Rhymer; "but wait until we get on shore, and then give me your opinion." "Shorten sail and bring ship to an anchor!" shouted the first lieutenant. The boatswain's whistle sounded, the hands flew aloft, the canvas was furled, and in a few minutes the "Ione" was brought up at no great distance from the town. The commander shortly afterwards went on shore, and several members of the midshipmen's berth obtained leave to follow him under charge of Rhymer. "Remember, young gentlemen, keep together, and do nothing to offend the natives," said Mr Hanson as they were about to shove off. "They are not like the inhabitants of European places, and are quick to resent what they may consider an insult. You cannot be too careful in your conduct towards them." Attractive as the place appeared from the sea, the party had not gone far when they were inclined to pass a very different opinion on it. The houses looked dilapidated, the inhabitants, black and brown, squalid and dirty, though a few Arabs in picturesque costumes, armed to the teeth, were encountered strolling about with a swaggering air, while odours abominable in the extreme rose from all directions. The party made their way through the crooked, narrow lanes, with plastered houses on each side, in the lower floors of which were Banyans, wearing red turbans, seated in front of their goods, consisting either of coloured cottons or calicoes, or heaps of ivory tusks, or of piles of loose cotton, crockery, or cheap Birmingham ware. Further on they came to rows of miserable huts, the doors occupied by woolly-headed blacks, who, in spite of the filth and offensive smells arising from heaps of refuse, seemed as merry as crickets, laughing, chattering, and bargaining in loud tones. Most of the people they met on foot appeared to be bending their steps to one quarter; on pursuing the same road the naval party found themselves at the entrance of a large open space or square crowded with people. Round it were arranged groups of men, women, and children of various hues, jet black or darkest of browns predominating. "Who can all these people be?" asked Charley. "Slaves, to be sure; they are brought here to be sold," answered Rhymer. "Let's go on, it will be some fun to watch them." Rhymer led the way round the square, examining the different groups of slaves. Although the greater number looked very squalid and wretched, others had evidently been taken care of. Among them were a party of Gallas, mostly women, habited in silk and gauze dresses, with their hair prettily ornamented to increase their personal attractions, which were far superior to those of the negroes. Close to the group stood a man who acted as auctioneer, ready to hand his goods over to the highest bidder. The purchasers were chiefly Arabs, who walked about surveying the hapless slaves, and ordering those to whom they took a fancy to be paraded out before them, after which they examined the mouths and limbs of any they thought of purchasing, striking their breasts and pinching their arms and legs to ascertain that they possessed sufficient muscle and wind for their work. Ned turned away from the scene with disgust. He longed to be able to liberate the poor slaves, and to place them where they could obtain religious instruction and the advantages of civilisation, for they were, he knew, being dragged from one state of barbarism to another, in many cases infinitely worse, where they would become utterly degraded and debased. "Is there no hope for these poor people?" he exclaimed, turning to Charley. "Cannot our commander interfere?" "He has not the authority to do so in the dominions of the sultan; we can only touch those whom we meet on the high seas, beyond certain limits. We shall soon have an opportunity, however, of setting some of them free, for the commander told Mr Hanson that we are only to remain here a couple of days, and then to commence our cruise to the northward." "The sooner the better," exclaimed Ned; "we shall all catch fever if we stay long in this place. Rhymer was right in what he said about it, fair as it looks outside." Ned was not disappointed; the "Ione" was soon again at sea, and had reached the latitude beyond which his commander had authority to capture all dhows with slaves on board. A bright look-out was kept aloft, from the first break of day until darkness covered the face of the deep, for any dhows sailing northward, but day after day passed by and none were seen. The ship was then kept further off the land, the commander suspecting that the Arabs and slave traders had notice of his whereabouts. The following day three dhows were seen; chase was made; they were overtaken and boarded; one, however, was a fair trader, but about the two others there was considerable doubt. They each carried a large number of people, whom the Arab captains averred were either passengers or part of their crews. As no one contradicted them, they were allowed to proceed on their voyage. "This dhow chasing is dull work," exclaimed Rhymer. "I'll bet anything that we don't make a single capture; and if we do, what is the good of it, except the modicum of prize money we might chance to pocket? The blacks won't be a bit the better off, and the Arabs will be the losers." "They deserve to be the losers," exclaimed Charley, who, influenced by the remarks of Ned, had become as much interested as he was in the duty in which they were engaged. "What business have they to make slaves of their fellow-creatures?" "Business! Why, because they want slaves, and set about the best way of getting them," answered Rhymer, with a laugh. The ship was now nearly under the line. The heat, as Rhymer had forewarned his messmates, was very great, though not enough to roast an ox; and when there was a breeze, it was at all events endurable in the shade. Had it been much greater it would not have impeded Commander Curtis in the performance of his duty. Ned bore it very well, although he confessed to Charley that he should like a roll in the snow. When the ship was becalmed the crew were allowed a plunge overboard, but they were ordered to keep close to the side for fear of sharks, and a sail was rigged out in the water for those who could not swim. Several more days passed without a single dhow being seen, and Rhymer declared that they would catch no slavers, for the best of reasons, that there were no slavers to be caught, or that if there were, they would take good care to keep out of their way. CHAPTER SIX. It was Ned's morning watch. Scarcely had the first streaks of crimson and gold appeared in the eastern sky, heralding the coming day, than the look-out, who had just reached the masthead, shouted-- "Three sail on the port bow," and presently afterwards he announced two more in the same direction. The wind was southerly and light, the ship's head was to the northward. The commander, according to his orders, was immediately called. All hands were roused up to make sail, and soon every stitch of canvas the ship could carry being packed on her, the foam which bubbled up under her bows showed that she was making good way in the direction in which the strangers had been seen. As soon as Ned was able, he hurried aloft with his spy-glass, eager to have a look at them. He counted not only five, but six, all of them dhows. As yet they were probably not aware of the presence of a man-of-war, for their hulls were still below the horizon. He hoped, therefore, that the "Ione" would gain on them before they should hoist their larger sails. He knew that it was the custom of the Arabs to carry only small sails at night. The usual preparations were made on board the corvette, the boats were cleared ready for lowering, the bow-chasers loaded and run out, and buckets of water were thrown over the sails to make them hold the wind. "We are gaining on them!" exclaimed Ned to Charley, as, after a third trip aloft, he came again on deck. "So we may be, but we must remember that after all they may be only honest traders, and not have a slave on board," observed Charley. "We shall judge better if they make more sail when they discover us. If they are honest traders they will keep jogging on as before, if not, depend upon it they will try to escape." "They may try, but they'll find that the `Ione' has a fast pair of heels, and we shall have the fun of overhauling them at all events," said Ned. At length the Arabs must have discovered the man-of-war. First the nearest hoisted her big sail, and also set one on her after-mast. Then another and another dhow followed her example, and then the whole squadron, like white-winged birds, went skimming along over the blue sea. "What do you think now, Charley, of the strangers?" asked Ned. "No doubt that they wish to keep ahead of us, but whether or not we shall get up with them is another question, though, if the wind holds as it now does, we may do it." The commander and gun-room officers were fully as eager as Ned to overtake the dhows. They had, they thought, at length got some veritable slavers in sight, and it would be provoking to lose them. It was, however, curious that they should all keep together; probably, however, none of them wished to steer a course by which they would run a greater chance of falling into the power of their pursuer. Seldom had breakfast been disposed of more quickly by officers and crew than that morning. The dhows could now be seen clearly from the deck, proof positive that the corvette was sailing much faster than they were. Once headed, most of them might be captured, for the dhow can sail but badly on a wind, though no vessel is faster before it. The lofty canvas of the corvette gave her an advantage over the dhows, whose sails occasionally hung down from their yards, almost emptied of wind. "We shall soon get them within range of our long gun," said the commander, as he stood eagerly watching the vessels ahead. "Stand by, Mr Hanson, to lower the boats; we shall be able to do so with this breeze without heaving to." "Is the gun all ready forward?" he asked a few minutes later. "Aye, aye, sir," was the answer. His practised eye assured him that the stern most dhow was within range of the long gun. "We'll make that fellow lower his canvas, and then see what cargo he carries," said the commander. "Send a shot across his forefoot, and if that doesn't stop him we'll try to knock away that big yard of his. All ready there forward?" "Aye, aye, sir!" "Fire!" The missile flew from the mouth of the gun, and was seen to strike the surface so close to the dhow as to send the spray over her low bows. Still she held on her course. The gun was run in and reloaded. "Give her another shot!" cried the commander; "and if they don't bring to, the Arabs must take the consequences." The second lieutenant, who had been carefully taking the range, obeyed the order. The shot was seen to touch the water twice before it disappeared, but whether it struck the dhow seemed doubtful. Again the gun was got ready, but this time was aimed at the next vessel ahead, which almost immediately lowered her sails, the one astern following her example. "Let Mr Rhymer, with a midshipman, shove off and take possession of those two vessels, while we stand after the others. We must try and bag the whole of them, for I suspect they all have slaves on board," observed the commander. "Garth, do you accompany Rhymer," said Mr Hanson. "Take care that the Arabs don't play you any trick." The ship was moving so steadily over the smooth water that there was no necessity to stop her way, though even then it required care in lowering the boat. The crew with the two young officers were soon in her, the oars were got out, and away she pulled after the sternmost dhow, while the ship stood on in chase of the remainder of the fleet. The crew of the boat gave way, eager to secure their prize. Scarcely, however, had they got half-way to the nearest, than the breeze freshened up again, and the corvette's speed was so increased, that it would have now been no easy task to lower a boat. They were soon up to the dhow, on board of which there appeared to be a crew of from fifteen to twenty Arabs, who gazed with folded arms and scowling countenances on their approaching captors. Rhymer and Ned sprang on board. No resistance was offered. The Arab captain shrugged his shoulders, said something, which probably meant, "It is the fortune of war," and appeared perfectly resigned to his fate. A peep down the main hatchway showed at once that she was a slaver, as the bamboo deck was crowded with blacks, who commenced shrieking fearfully as they saw Ned's white face, having been told by the Arabs that the object of the English was to cook and eat them. "Stop those fellows from making that horrible uproar," cried Rhymer in an angry tone. "I cannot make out what these Arabs say with this abominable noise." It is very doubtful if he would have understood his prisoners even had there been perfect silence. In order not to be seen by the blacks Ned walked aft. Rhymer made signs to the Arabs to give up their arms, which he handed into the boat as the best means of preventing any attempt they might make to recapture their vessel. He then ordered them to go forward to rehoist the sail, while he sent one of his men to the helm. While they were engaged in these arrangements, Ned cast his eye on the other dhow, of which Rhymer had been ordered to take charge. "Look out there, Rhymer!" he exclaimed; "that fellow is getting up his long yard again, and will try to give us the slip." "We'll soon stop him from doing that," answered Rhymer. "You remain on board this craft with a couple of hands and I'll go after him. Cox and Stone, you stay with Mr Garth; into the boat the rest of you." The crew in another instant were in their seats, and shoving off, pulled away towards the other dhow. There was no time to lose, for already the yard with its white canvas was half-way up the mast. The breeze, too, was freshening, and as Ned watched her it seemed to him that she had a good chance of escaping. The boat's crew were pulling as hard as they could lay their backs to the oars. He saw Rhymer standing up with a musket in his hand, and shouting to the Arabs, threatening to fire should they continue the attempt to escape. They were, however, apparently not to be deterred from so doing. Still the sail continued to ascend and the dhow was gathering way. Should the sail once be got up, the boat would have little chance of catching her. Rhymer, however, was not likely to give up the pursuit. Finding that his threats were not attended to, he fired one of the muskets, but whether any person was hit Ned could not discover. Again Rhymer fired, and then reloaded both muskets. Ned was so engaged in watching the boat, that he scarcely took notice of the proceedings of the Arabs on board his own dhow. He observed, however, that one of them, a young man with a better-looking countenance than most of his companions, had remained aft, while the rest were attempting to hoist the sail, though from some cause or other the halyards appeared to have got foul. "Go forward, Cox, and see what those fellows are about," he said; "I'll take the helm." The seaman obeyed, while Stone, beckoning to the young Arab to come to his assistance, stood by to haul in the main sheet. The only thing in the shape of a boat was a small canoe which lay in the after part of the vessel. Aided by Cox, the sail was soon hoisted, but scarcely had the dhow heeled over to the breeze, than cries arose from the Arab crew, who made frantic gesticulations, indicating that the vessel was sinking. Ned at once suspected the cause; their second shot must have struck the bows of the dhow between wind and water, and had probably started a plank, so as to allow the sea, like a mill stream, to rush into her. There was little hope of stopping it. Ned put up the helm. "Lower the sail!" he shouted as he had never shouted before; the seamen endeavoured to obey the order, but the halyards had again become jammed, and to his dismay he saw that the bows of the dhow were rapidly sinking. As the water rushed into the hold the poor blacks uttered the most piercing shrieks, while the panic-stricken Arabs in a body frantically sprang towards the after part of the vessel; but as they came along, the light deck gave way beneath their weight, and the whole of them were precipitated on to the heads of the hapless negroes below. "We must save ourselves, sir," cried Stone, lifting the canoe. "It is our only chance, or we shall be drowned with the rest." "Where is Cox?" exclaimed Ned. He had fallen in among the struggling Arabs and blacks. Ned caught sight of him for a moment, and was springing forward to help him out from their midst, when the stern of the dhow lifted. Stone launched the canoe and leaped into her, shouting to his young officer to join him, while he paddled with a piece of board clear of the sinking vessel. Ned seeing that Cox had managed to reach the side, sprang overboard, his example being followed by the latter, as well as by the young Arab who had remained aft. Before any of the rest of the crew had extricated themselves, the dhow, plunging her head into the sea, rapidly glided downwards, and in an instant the despairing cries of the perishing wretches which had filled the air were silenced. Stone, influenced by the natural desire of saving his own life, paddled away with might and main to escape being drawn down in the vortex. Ned had also struck out bravely, though he had to exert all his swimming powers to escape. For an instant he cast a glance back; the dhow had disappeared with all those on board; Cox was nowhere to be seen; he caught sight, however, of the young Arab, who, having clutched hold of a piece of bamboo, had come to the surface, but was evidently no swimmer. "I must try and save that poor fellow," he thought. "I can manage to keep him afloat until the canoe gets up to us." Ned carried out his intention. On reaching the young Arab he made a sign to him to turn on his back, placing the piece of bamboo under him. Just then he heard a faint shout--it came from Cox, who had returned to the surface, though, like the Arab, unable to swim. "Save me, save me!" shouted Cox, who was clinging to a log of wood. Stone heard him, and Ned saw the head of the canoe turned towards where the seaman was struggling. "Pick him up first!" he shouted to Stone. "I can keep this man afloat until you come to us." With only a board to impel the canoe, it took Stone a considerable time to reach his messmate, whom it was then no easy matter to get into the canoe without upsetting her. While Stone was thus employed, Ned did his uttermost to calm the fears of the young Arab, who, besides being unable to swim, probably recollected that sharks abounded in those seas, and dreaded lest he and the Englishman might be attacked by one. Ned thought only of one thing, that he had to keep himself and a fellow-creature afloat until the canoe should come up to them. As to how they should get on board, he did not allow himself to think just then. She was scarcely large enough to hold four people, though she might possibly support the whole party until Rhymer could send the boat to pick them up. Ned, withdrawing his eyes from poor Cox, who was clinging to his log, and shouting to his messmate to make haste, looked towards the dhow of which Rhymer was in chase. She had hoisted her sail, and should the breeze continue, would very probably get away, unless Rhymer, by killing or wounding some of her crew, could make the others give in. He, it was pretty clear, was so eagerly engaged in pursuing the chase, that he had not seen the dhow go down. The boat's crew, however, must have perceived what had happened; and Ned thought it strange that he did not at once return to try and save him and his two men. "Perhaps he fancies that we are all lost, and that there would be no use in coming to look after us. If he catches the dhow, however, I hope that he will send back the boat, on the chance of any of us having escaped," thought Ned. He could see the sails of the corvette, and an occasional shot told him that she was still firing at the slavers. She was already almost hull down, and the catastrophe could not have been discovered from her deck, while the eyes of the look-outs aloft were probably fixed on the dhows still trying to escape. Still Ned did not give up hopes of being rescued, but continued energetically treading water, and speaking in as cheerful a tone as he could command to keep up the spirits of the young Arab. "Me understand, t'ankee, t'ankee," said the latter at last. Still Stone could make but slow progress, and Ned began to fear that his own strength might become exhausted before the canoe could reach him. He was truly thankful when at last he saw that Stone had got hold of Cox, and was dragging him on board. Just at that moment, however, to his horror, he caught sight of a dark fin above the surface; that it was that of a shark he knew too well. He must do his utmost to keep the monster at a distance. He shouted, and splashed the water with his disengaged hand. "Be quick, be quick, Stone!" he cried. "Do you see that brute?" "Aye, aye, sir, I see him; but he'll not come nigh you while you're splashing about, and the canoe is too big a morsel for him to attack. Now, Ben," he cried, turning to his messmate, "haul yourself on board while I keep at the other end of the canoe, it is the safest plan." But poor Cox was too much exhausted by his violent struggles to do as he was advised, and at last Stone had to help him, at the risk of upsetting the canoe or bringing her bow under the water. By lying flat along he succeeded, however, at last in hauling his shipmate's shoulders over the bows. He then returned to the stern, when Ben, by great exertion, managed to drag himself in. This done, Stone endeavoured as fast as he could to get up to Ned. As Stone paddled, he sung out, "I'm afraid it's of no use trying to keep that Arab fellow above water; you must let him go, for the canoe won't hold us all." "Not while I have life and strength to help him," answered Ned. "Do not be afraid," he added, turning to the Arab, who understood what Stone had said. "The canoe may support us even though she is brought down to the gunwale; and if she can't, I'll keep outside and hold on until Mr Rhymer's boat comes back, or the corvette sends to look for us." "But the shark!" cried Stone; "the brute may be grabbing you if you remain quiet even for a minute." "I don't intend to remain quiet," said Ned. "Here, lift the Arab in. I'll help you--it can be done." There certainly was a great risk of the canoe upsetting in doing as Ned proposed. Cox, however, leaned over on the opposite side, and they at length succeeded in getting the Arab on board. The gunwale of the canoe was scarcely a couple of inches above the water; a slight ripple would have filled her, but the sea was so smooth that there was no fear of that happening. Ned, directing the men how to place themselves, was at last drawn safely on board. His additional weight brought the canoe almost flush with the water. They were, however, certainly better off in her than in the water; but at any moment, with the slightest increase of wind, she might fill and sink beneath them, and they would again be left to struggle for their lives. Ned was afraid of moving, and urged his companions to remain perfectly still. "Look out, Stone; what is the dhow about? Mr Rhymer will surely soon be sending the boat to our relief--he must have seen our craft go down." "Not so sure of that; he'll not trouble himself about us," muttered Stone. "If you were there, you'd do it; all officers are not alike." Ned was afraid that the seaman might be right, but he did not express an opinion on the subject. Their position was, indeed, a trying one. The sun struck down with intense heat on their heads, while they had not a particle of food to satisfy their hunger, nor a drop of fresh water to quench their burning thirst. The breeze had sprung up, and every now and then a ripple broke over the gunwale, even though Stone kept the canoe before the wind. "If we had a couple of paddles, we might gain on the corvette; but I'm afraid of using this bit of board, for fear of taking the water in on one side or the other," said Stone. "Do not attempt it," answered Ned; "we should not overtake her unless it should fall calm again, and the commander will surely come and look for us." "Provided Mr Rhymer doesn't tell him we are all lost," remarked Stone, who had evidently little confidence in the old mate. Hour after hour went by, the boat was nowhere to be seen, and the dhows' sails had sunk beneath the horizon. Night was approaching, and as far as the occupants of the canoe could judge, no help was at hand. Ned endeavoured, as well as he could, to keep up the spirits of his companions. The wind remained light, and the sea was as smooth as a mill-pond. The approaching darkness so far brought relief that they were no longer exposed to the burning rays of the sun, while the cooler air of night greatly relieved them. As the day had passed by, so it appeared probable would the night, without bringing them succour. Ben and the Arab slept, but Ned was too anxious to close his eyes, and Stone insisted on keeping a look-out, on the chance of any vessel passing which might take them on board. Even an Arab dhow would be welcome, for the Arabs would doubtless be willing to receive them on board for the sake of obtaining a reward for preserving their lives. At last the Arab, whose head was resting on Ned's side, awoke. He appeared to be in a very weak state, and told Ned, in his broken English, that he thought he was dying. "Try and keep alive until to-morrow morning," said Ned; "by that time our ship will be looking for us, and as they know where we were left, we are sure to be seen." Ned had been calculating that it was about two hours to dawn, when, in spite of his efforts to keep awake, he found his head dropping back on Ben's legs, and he was soon fast asleep. How long he had been lost in forgetfulness he could not tell, when he heard Stone give a loud hail. "What is that?" asked Ned, lifting up his head. "I heard voices and a splash of oars, sir," he answered; "they were a long way off, and, I fancied, passed to the southward." "Silence, then," said Ned; "we will listen for their reply." No answering hail came, and he feared that Stone must have been mistaken; again he listened. "Yes, those were human voices and the dip of oars in the water. We'll shout together. Rouse yourself, Cox," he said. Ben sat up, and, Stone leading, they shouted together at the top of their voices, the young Arab joining them. Again they were silent, but no answer came. "If that is a boat, they surely must have heard us," observed Ned. "They may be talking themselves, sir, or the noise of their oars prevented them," remarked Stone. "We'll shout again, then," said Ned. Again they shouted, this time louder than before. They waited a few seconds, almost afraid to breathe, and then there came across the water a British cheer, sounding faintly in the distance. "Hurrah! hurrah! All right, sir!" cried Stone. They shouted several times after this to guide the boat towards them. At length they could see her emerging from the gloom; but no one on board her had apparently seen the canoe, for, from the speed the boat was going and the course she was steering, she was evidently about to pass them. "Boat ahoy!" shouted Stone. "Here we are, but take care not to run us down." The boat's course was altered; they soon heard a voice, it was that of Charley Meadows, crying out, "There is something floating ahead of us, a raft or a sunken boat." "Meadows ahoy!" hailed Ned. "Come carefully alongside." The oars were thrown in, and the boat glided up to the canoe. "Why, Ned, Ned! I am so thankful that I have found you," cried Charley, as he grasped the hand of his messmate after he had been helped on board. "There is a poor Arab, take care of him, for he is pretty far gone already," said Ned. "Water, water," murmured the Arab faintly. There was fortunately a breaker in the boat, and before many words were exchanged some of the refreshing liquid was served out to Ned and his companions. Except a few biscuits there was nothing to eat, but even these soaked in water served to refresh the well-nigh famished party. Charley then explained that the corvette, having captured three of the dhows, all with slaves on board, had hove to for the purpose of transferring their cargoes to her deck; and that while so occupied, Rhymer had arrived with a fourth, several of the Arab crew having been wounded in attempting to get away. "The commander seeing you were not on board, inquired what had become of you, when Rhymer, with very little concern, replied that he feared you all had gone to the bottom with the dhow, as his boat's crew asserted that they had seen her founder. The commander was very indignant at his not having gone back at once to try and pick you up, should you by any means have escaped. He immediately ordered off three boats--the second lieutenant going in one, Rhymer in another, while he gave me charge of the third. What has become of the other two boats I do not know; perhaps they thought that they had come far enough and have gone back, as I confess I was on the point of doing when I heard your hail. We shall soon, I hope, fall in with the ship, for she is sure to beat back over the ground until she has picked us up." "I shall be thankful to get on board for the sake of this poor Arab, who requires the doctor's care," said Ned. "Why, isn't he one of the slaver's crew?" exclaimed Charley. "An arrant rogue, I dare say." "I don't know about that, but I saved his life," answered Ned, "and I feel an interest in him; he seems grateful too, as far as I can judge." He then asked the Arab, who was sitting near him, whether he would have some more water, and handed him the cup, which was full. "T'ankee, t'ankee!" answered the Arab; "much t'ankee!" Ned then gave him some more sopped biscuit. "What's his name?" inquired Charley. "Ask him, as he seems to speak English." "Sayd," answered the Arab immediately, showing that he understood what was said. Charley was now steering the boat to the northward. In a short time day broke, and as the sun rose, his rays fell on the white canvas of the corvette, which was standing close-hauled to the south-west, her black hull just seen above the horizon. "Hurrah!" cried Charley, "there's the old `barky'; I hope we shall soon be on board." "If she stands on that course she'll pass us," said Ned. "No fear of that," answered Charley; "she'll soon be about, and we shall be on board and all to rights." He was not mistaken; the corvette immediately tacked, her canvas, which had hitherto seemed of snowy whiteness, being thrown into dark shadow. She now stood towards the south-east, on a course which would bring her so near that the boat would soon be seen from her deck. Before long she again came to the wind. "She is going about again!" exclaimed Ned. "No, no, she's heaving to to pick up one of the boats," answered Charley. He was again right; in a few minutes the sails were once more filled, and she stood on. The wind being light, the midshipmen had to wait for some time before they were certain that the boat was seen. The corvette again appeared as if about to pass them, but soon put about, and in less than a quarter of an hour she hove to, to enable Charley to steer alongside. "Hurrah!" he shouted as he approached, "we have them all safe." A cheer rose from the throats of the crew as they received this announcement. Ned with his companions were assisted up the side. As he passed along the gangway he observed the unusual appearance which the deck presented, covered as it was by an almost countless number of black figures, men, women, and children, most of them squatting down in the attitudes they had been compelled to preserve on board the slave vessels. He had, however, to make his way aft to the commander, who put out his hand and cordially congratulated him on his escape. Ned having reported what had happened to himself, added, "There's a poor Arab with me, sir, who requires to be looked after by the doctor. He seems grateful to me for having kept him afloat until the canoe picked us up." "In other words you saved his life, Garth, at the peril of your own, as far as I can understand. The surgeon will attend to him; and I hope the risk he has run of losing his life will induce him to give up slave-trading for the future. Now, my lad, you must turn into your hammock, you look as if you required rest." Ned confessed that such was the case, but hinted that he and Sayd would first of all be glad of some food. This was soon brought him, and scarcely a minute had passed after he had tumbled into his hammock before he was fast asleep. CHAPTER SEVEN. Ned was allowed to take as long a rest as he liked, and it was not until hammocks were piped up the next morning that he awoke. Scarcely had he reached the deck when Sayd, who immediately knew him, hurried up, and making a profound salaam, pressed his hand, and in his broken English warmly thanked him for saving his life. "I am very glad to have done so," said Ned; "and, as the commander says, the best way you can show your gratitude is to give up slave-dealing for the future, and turn honest trader." The young Arab evidently did not understand the meaning of what Ned had said, possibly had he done so he would have declared that he was merely following an occupation which his people considered perfectly lawful, and that he saw no reason why he should abandon it. Although he could not exchange many words, Ned felt greatly drawn towards his new friend. There was something very pleasing in the young Arab's manner; indeed, in every sense of the word, he appeared to be a gentleman. Ned, however, had his duties to perform, and could not just then hold much conversation with him. Both officers and crew were occupied from morning till night in attending to the liberated slaves, who had in the first place to be washed from the filth in which they had lived on board the dhows; they had then to be fed, and most of them also had to be clothed, while constant attention was required to keep each gang on the part of the deck allotted to it. Ned, on inquiring for the dhows, found that all those captured had been destroyed, with the exception of one, on board which the Arab crews had been placed, and allowed to go about their business, as it would have been inconvenient to keep them on board until they could be earned to Aden or Zanzibar. The ship was now steering for the Seychelles Islands, the nearest place at which negroes could be landed without the risk of again being enslaved. There were upwards of three hundred of these poor creatures on board, of all tints, from yellow and brown to ebon black. Some few, chiefly Gallas, were fine-looking people, with nothing of the negro in their features, and of a dark copper colour; but the greater number, according to European notions, were excessively ugly specimens of the human race. Many were in a deplorable condition, having been long crammed together on the bamboo decks of the dhow, without being even able to sit upright. Several of the women had infants in their arms, the poor little creatures being mere living skeletons; not a few of them, indeed, died as they were being removed from the slavers to the ship. Most of the slaves, both men and women, looked wretched in the extreme, for the only food they had received for many weeks was a handful of rice and half a cocoa-nut full of water. On board two of the captured dhows not more than three bags of grain were found to feed between eighty and a hundred people. At first the poor creatures, when placed on the man-of-war's deck, looked terrified in the extreme, but the kindness they received from the officers and seamen soon reassured them. The rough "tars" at all hours of the day might be seen nursing the babies or tending the sick, lifting those unable to walk from place to place, or carrying them their food. Not a grumble was heard among the crew, although their patience was severely taxed. The provisions, consisting of grain and rice, having been boiled in the ship's coppers, were served out at stated times in large bowls to the different messes. As soon as the food was cooked, the seamen told off for the purpose came along the deck with the huge bowls in their hands, one of which was placed in the midst of each tribe, or gang, of blacks, who lost no time in falling to, using their fingers to transfer the hot food to their mouths, often squabbling among each other when any one was supposed to take more than his or her share. Ned was as active as any one in tending the poor Africans, much to the astonishment of Sayd, who could not understand why white men should interest themselves about a set of wretched savages, as he considered them. Ned tried to explain that, as they had souls, it was the duty of Christian men to try and improve their condition, and that no people had a right to enslave their fellow-creatures; but though Sayd was intelligent enough about most matters, he failed to understand Ned's arguments, and evidently retained his own opinion to the last. Notwithstanding this, their friendship continued. Ned took great pains to teach Sayd English, which he appeared especially anxious to learn. With the assistance of the Arab, he made inquiries among all the negroes in the hopes of hearing something about Tom Baraka's family, but nothing could he learn which could lead him to suppose that any one on board was acquainted with them. Even Charley was almost as anxious as he was on the subject, though he owned that he had little hope of success. "You might as well try to find a needle in a bundle of hay," he observed. Sayd, too, assured him that so many thousands had been carried off from their families, it would be scarcely possible to identify Baraka's wife and child. Happily the sea was smooth and the wind moderate, for had bad weather come on, the sufferings of the slaves would have been greatly increased. At length Mahe, the largest of the Seychelles group, appeared ahead, and a pilot coming on board, the "Ione" brought up in Port Victoria. Everywhere on shore the most beautiful tropical vegetation was seen; the hills covered to their summits with trees, cottages and plantations on the more level ground, while here and there bright coloured cliffs peeped out amid the green foliage. Mahe was pronounced to be a very pretty island indeed, and although so close under the line, it is considered an extremely healthy one. The slaves were landed, some of them being hired by the planters, while others set up for themselves on ground allotted to them by the government. Before leaving the Seychelles, Commander Curtis had the satisfaction of seeing the larger number of emancipated negroes comfortably settled, and several having agreed to keep house together were legally married. In most respects, after all their troubles, they were far better off than they would have been in their own country, as they were free from the attacks of hostile tribes or wild animals, and ran no risk of again being carried off by Arab slave dealers. Once more the "Ione" was at sea, and steering so as to cross the track of the slavers. Several dhows were seen, but being to leeward, effected their escape. Others which came in sight to the southward were compelled to heave to, and were boarded, but these turned out to be legal traders. Though many had blacks on board, it could not be proved that they were slaves. At length two were caught having full cargoes of slaves, and with these the "Ione" returned to Zanzibar. Sayd had by this time learned so much English, that, as Ned had hoped, the office of interpreter was offered to him by Commander Curtis. Sayd replied that he had friends on shore whom he would consult on the subject. The following day he returned. "Are you going to remain with us?" asked Ned. "After some time perhaps, not now," answered Sayd, without giving any further reason for not accepting the situation. He was as friendly as ever, and expressed his gratitude for the kindness he had received; he had, however, made up his mind to remain on shore, and having bade farewell to Ned and his other friends on board, he took his departure. "I for one am glad to be rid of the fellow," observed Rhymer, as he was seated at the head of the table in the midshipmen's berth. "Like all Arabs, I have no doubt that he is a great rascal, though he is so soft and insinuating in his manners." "I hope that he is an exception to the rule," answered Ned, not liking to have his friend run down. "How dare you oppose your opinion to mine, youngster?" exclaimed Rhymer. "As you claim the credit of saving his life, you think it necessary to praise him; but if any of us fall into his power, he'd show his gratitude by cutting our throats with as little compunction as any other Arab would have." Charley sided with Ned; but the majority of those present thought Rhymer was not far wrong in the opinion he expressed. The "Ione" having replenished her stores, again sailed on a cruise to the southward. Week after week, however, went by and not a prize was taken. It was very tantalising. Dhows were frequently seen and chased, but those which were overhauled proved to be legal traders. It was the old story over again. The Arabs were evidently too cunning to be caught; only those who had no cause to dread the British cruisers got in her way, and the rest kept out of it. That thousands of slaves were being embarked and carried northward there could be no doubt, but how to catch the dhows with slaves on board was the question. The commander resolved to try and outwit the Arabs. He had heard at Zanzibar that many of their vessels kept close in-shore, both to avoid the British cruisers and to fill up their cargoes with any negroes they might entrap. He accordingly determined to send the boats in with strong crews well-armed and provisioned to lie in wait among the small islands off the shore, that should any dhows appear in sight, they might pounce down on them and effect their capture before they had time to make their escape. As the commander had no reason for keeping his plans secret they were soon known about the ship, and every one in the midshipmen's berth hoped to be employed in the service. Boat expeditions are always popular among men-of-war's men, notwithstanding the privations they entail, as a change from the regular routine of life on board ship. As yet it was not known who was to go; Ned and Charley thought that they should have but little chance. "If we ask Mr Hanson he will advise the commander to send us," said Ned. "There's nothing like trying," replied Charley; "but I am afraid it will be of little use." "I'll speak to him," said Ned. "It will show our zeal, and we can but be refused. I do not suppose that either you or I are likely to obtain command of a boat, but we may be sent with some one else, and the commander may be willing to give us an opportunity of gaining experience." Ned carried out his intention. "I will see about it," answered Mr Hanson. "I suppose you and Meadows wish to go together to keep each other out of mischief." "Thank you, sir," said Ned, "we'll look after each other at all events; it won't be our fault if we don't take a dhow or two." "You are always zealous, Garth, and the commander will, I know, be glad to favour your wishes," answered the lieutenant, in a tone which encouraged Ned to hope that he would be sent on the expedition. While the ship was standing towards the African coast orders were received to prepare the three largest boats--the launch, pinnace, and cutter. The second lieutenant was to go in one with the assistant surgeon, the master in another, and Rhymer was to have charge of the third. The commander, who held him in more estimation than his messmates were wont to do, spoke to him on the quarter-deck. "I intend to send two of the youngsters with you--Meadows and Garth. You will look after them, and see that they come to no harm; the experience they may gain will be of advantage to them." "Of course, sir, I am always glad to be of service to youngsters, and will take good care of them," he answered aloud, muttering to himself, "especially as one of these days I may find them passed over my head." "Very well, then, Rhymer, I will give you the necessary directions for your guidance; but remember you will on no account allow your men to sleep on shore on the mainland, and you must avoid remaining at night up any river into which you may chase a dhow." Rhymer, of course, undertook to act according to the commander's directions. Next day the ship came in sight of an island, three or four miles from the mainland, the western side rising some fifty or sixty feet above the summit of the water, and covered with trees. On the north side was a deep bay, into which the ship stood, and came to an anchor. Here she was hid both from the people on shore or from any passing dhows. The island formed one of a group, extending along the coast at various distances, most of them, however, were low, and many were mere sand-banks, with a few casuarina bushes growing on the higher portions. They would all, however, afford sufficient shelter to the boats, and conceal them till they could pounce out and capture any dhows passing near. The boats were now lowered, each with a gun in the bows, well stored with provisions and tents for living in on shore, while the crews were well-armed, and were at once despatched to their several destinations. The second lieutenant was directed to go to the northward, and Rhymer was to proceed to the most southern limit, and in case of necessity they were to rendezvous at the spot from whence they started. The ship then sailed on a cruise to the northward, the commander promising to return in the course of a fortnight to replenish their provisions, and take charge of any dhows which might have been captured. Ned and Charley were in high glee at the thoughts of the work they were to be engaged in. Old Rhymer had lately been more pleasant than usual, and they hoped to get along pretty well with him. He was fond of his ease, and in fine weather was likely to entrust the boat to them, while he took a "caulk" in the stern sheets; indeed, when away from his superiors, and in command himself, he was always more amiable than on board ship. For some time after the boat had shoved off all on board were employed in re-stowing the stores, getting her into trim, and placing the articles most likely to be required uppermost. When everything had been done according to his satisfaction, he addressed the two midshipmen. "Now, youngsters," he said, "recollect, I must have implicit obedience, and all things will go well; if not, look out for squalls. I'll take one watch, you, Meadows, another, and you, Garth, the third." The midshipmen made no answer, for, being as well aware as he was of the importance of maintaining discipline, they thought his remark rather superfluous. The weather continued fine, and the old mate appeared to be in unusual good-humour. He laughed and talked and spun long yarns which amused his companions, although they had heard most of them twenty times before. When tired of talking, he stretched himself in the stern sheets to "take a snooze," as he said, charging them to call him should anything occur. "You see, youngsters, what confidence I place in you," he observed. "I could not venture to shut my eyes if I didn't feel sure that you would keep a bright look-out. It is for your good besides, that you may know how to act when left in command of a boat." The midshipmen suspected that Rhymer thought more of his own comfort than of benefiting them. They passed several small islands. On some grew a scanty vegetation, while others were mere sand-banks. One of them was occupied by vast numbers of wild fowl, on which Rhymer looked with longing eyes. "We might land, and in a short time kill birds enough to supply ourselves for a couple of days," he observed; "the delay cannot be of consequence." Ned recollected that Rhymer had received orders to proceed without delay to the southward, but he knew that it would not do to remind him. The boat was therefore headed in towards a point on the lee side, where it appeared likely that an easy landing-place could be found. The beach, however, shelved so gradually that she could not approach within about twenty yards of the dry sand; she therefore was brought up by a grapnel, and Rhymer said that he would wade on shore, telling Ned to remain in charge of the boat with part of the crew, while Charley and the rest accompanied him. Neither Rhymer nor Charley had much experience as sportsmen, and as their arms were only ship's muskets, Ned thought it possible that they would not kill as many birds as Rhymer expected to obtain. Taking off their shoes and trousers, Rhymer and his followers jumped overboard and waded ashore. There were but few birds on that end of the island, the chief colony being some way off. Ned heard several shots fired, but the sportsmen were too far off by that time for him to see whether any birds had been killed. In a short time the sounds of firing again reached him, evidently at a still greater distance; he did not forget his directions to keep a bright look-out, and he occasionally swarmed to the masthead that he might obtain a more extensive view. He had gone up for the fourth time, when he caught sight of a white sail coming up from the southward with the wind off the land; she was a dhow, of that there was no doubt, and might be a full slaver. She would possibly pass close to the island, abreast of which, as she was sailing rapidly, she would very quickly arrive. There was no time to be lost. He glanced his eye over the land, but could nowhere discover the shooting party; he was afraid of firing, for fear of alarming the crew of the dhow. As the only means of getting back Rhymer, he sent one of the men to try and find him and urge him to return. On came the dhow; every moment was precious; she had not yet discovered the boat. The man, wading on shore, ran off along the sand; the dhow was almost abreast of the island; at length Ned, to his relief, saw his companions approaching in the distance. He got the sail ready, so that it might be hoisted the moment the party were on board. He shouted and signed to them to make haste, pointing to the dhow; at last Rhymer came, followed by Charley and the men, wading through the water, puffing and blowing, terribly out of wind. The result of the sport appeared to be only half-a-dozen wild fowl, the bodies of some being nearly blown to pieces. The party quickly tumbled into the boat, and, the grapnel being got up, she immediately made sail on a course which Rhymer fancied would cut off the dhow. He was evidently in no good-humour at the ill-success of their sport, but the prospect of making a prize somewhat restored him; the dhow, however, must soon have seen the boat standing out towards her. "Hurrah! she knows it is no use running, and gives in at once," exclaimed Rhymer, as the dhow was seen to lower her canvas. He soon altered his tone when she hoisted a much larger sail than she had before been carrying, and put up her helm, standing away directly before the wind. "We must be after her, lads," cried Rhymer. "The breeze may fail, and if she is becalmed we are sure to have her." It occurred to Ned that if Rhymer had not landed on the island this would have been more likely. The wind being light, the oars were got out and the boat went along at a good rate. "We shall have her, we shall have her!" cried the old mate; "she is within range of our gun. Try a shot, Meadows." Charley sprang forward, and glancing along the piece, fired, but the shot fell short. Though Rhymer still cried out, "We shall have her, we shall have her!" gradually his voice lost its tone of confidence, the breeze freshened, and the dhow began rapidly to distance her pursuer. Still the boat followed; the wind might again fail and the chase be overtaken. Instead of failing, however, the wind increased, and the dhow's hull sunk beneath the horizon. At length only the upper portion of her sail could be seen; still, as long as a speck was in sight, Rhymer pursued her, and not until the sun set did he abandon all hope. "It is a bad job," he exclaimed. "Now let's have those birds, they must be pretty well stewed by this time." The wild fowl had been cut up into pieces, and, with rice biscuits and other ingredients, had been stewing in the pot in which all their meals were cooked, officers and men sharing alike. As soon, however, as Rhymer's plate was handed to him he exclaimed-- "Fishy! Horribly fishy!" "Strong flavoured I must own," said Charley; and he and Ned could with difficulty eat a small portion, though the men were not so particular. The unsavoury dish did not add to Rhymer's good-humour. Scarcely had supper been concluded than it began to blow so hard that it became necessary to take down two reefs, and the boat close-hauled stood towards the shore with the prospect of having a dirty night of it. The sea, too, got up and sent the spray flying over her. About the middle watch rain began to fall heavily. Though provided with an awning, blowing as fresh as it did, it was impossible to rig it, and all hands were soon wet through. As to sleeping, that was out of the question. Rhymer passed the night grumbling and abusing the wild fowl, the Arabs and the dhows, lamenting his own hard fate in being engaged in such abominable service. By morning, when the boat had got in again with the land, the wind fell, and the sun rising, quickly dried their wet clothes. After this heavy showers frequently fell, detracting from the pleasure of the cruise. Ned and Charley made themselves as happy as they could, caring very little for Rhymer's grumbling. The worst part of the business was that day after day went by and no dhows were seen. Their destination, however, was at length reached. It was an island with a snug little harbour, in which the boat was perfectly concealed. Here they were able to land and erect a tent, hidden from the sea by a grove of casuarina bushes. A couple of hands were kept on board the boat, while the rest lived on shore and enjoyed the advantage of being able to stretch their legs, but they were ordered to keep within hail, in case of being required to shove off in chase of a dhow. On the highest tree a look-out place was made, reached by a rope ladder; and Rhymer ordered Charley and Ned to occupy it by turns. Either the one or the other had to sit, telescope in hand, from sunrise to sunset, sweeping the horizon in search of a sail. Several were seen, but they were too far off to make it of any use to go in chase. At length one appeared, which, by the course she was steering, would inevitably pass close to the island. Officers and crew hurried on board the boat, and away she pulled to cut off the stranger. "We shall catch yonder craft this time, at all events," exclaimed Rhymer. "I only hope she will be full of slaves. As she stands on boldly, it is pretty clear that we are not seen." The men gave way, in spite of the hot sun striking down on their heads. Still the dhow stood on, and in a short time the boat was up to her. A shot fired across her forefoot made the Arabs lower their sail, and the boat was pulled alongside. The crew jumped on board. About twenty fierce-looking Arabs stood on the deck, but they offered no resistance. Rhymer inquired for the captain. A well-dressed person stepped forward, making a profound salaam. "Where are your papers?" inquired Rhymer. The Arab understood him, and presented several documents, which the English officer looked at, in as knowing a way as he could assume, without being able to decipher a word. He then made signs that he wished to examine the hold. No opposition was offered. It was found to contain a miscellaneous cargo, but not a single slave could be discovered. As it was evident that the dhow was a lawful trader, Rhymer apologised to the captain, and stepping into his boat pulled for the shore, while the dhow sailed on her course. Several other dhows were boarded in the same way. Some had blacks on board, but they were supposed either to form part of the crew or to be passengers, and Rhymer did not venture to stop them. The time for their return was approaching. "If we had not captured those slavers some time back, I should be inclined to believe that there is no such thing as the slave trade on this coast," exclaimed Rhymer, as he sat in the tent one evening after sunset. "It is all my ill-luck, however, and I suppose I shall get hauled over the coals for my want of success. If we catch sight of another dhow, and she takes to flight, I'll chase her round the world rather than lose her." Next morning, soon after Ned had gone up to the look-out station, as he was turning his glass to the southward, the white canvas of a dhow, lighted up by the rays of the rising sun, came full into view, standing almost directly for the island. The wind for the last day or two had been variable. It was now blowing from the south-east. Quickly descending, he carried the information to his commanding officer. The party, tossing off their coffee, and snatching up the portions of breakfast they had just commenced, hurried on board. By the time they had got clear of the island the hull of the dhow could be seen. For some time she stood on as before, apparently not discovering them. With the wind as it had been, she had no chance of escaping, except by running on shore, and Rhymer ordered his men to lay on their oars to await her coming, while the sail was got ready to hoist in a moment, and the gun loaded to send a shot at her should she refuse to strike. Presently the wind shifted two points to the eastward, the dhow lowered her sail. "Hurrah!" exclaimed Rhymer; "she knows it's of no use to try and escape. We will make sail, and shall soon be up to her. Hoist away!" The boat was soon under canvas, heeling over to the freshening breeze. A short time, however, only had elapsed when the dhow was seen to rehoist her sail; but it was evident from her position that her head had been brought round, and was now pointing to the southward. "It is pretty clear that the Arabs intend to run for it," observed Charley to Ned. "And if they go round the world we shall have to follow them," answered Ned in a low voice. The boat sailed well. There was just enough wind, and no more, to suit her, and the dhow apparently was not so fast a sailer as some of her class. Still she kept well ahead of the boat. Should the wind shift back to its old quarter, however, there was a fair probability that the boat would overtake her. "We've got a good many hours of daylight, and it will be a hard matter if we do not come up with her before dark," said Rhymer. "But as it is, if we do not, and we are to chase her round the world, we must do our best to keep her in sight during the night," observed Charley, demurely. The dhow was still out of range of the boat's gun, and appeared determined to stand on while there was a prospect of escaping. The wind continuing as before, Ned and Charley began to fear that after all she would get away. "I wish that the breeze would shift back to the south-east, and we should have her sure enough, for we can sail three points closer to the wind than she can," observed Ned. The time was passing by. Exciting as was the chase, the cook did not forget to prepare dinner, which the crew were as ready to eat as if no dhow supposed to be full of slaves was in sight. The evening approached, the compass showed that the dhow had fallen off two points, and presently afterwards another point. "She'll not weather that headland!" observed Charley, looking out ahead. "No, but she's going to run on shore, and if so she'll go to pieces, and the slaves will either be drowned or be carried off into the interior," remarked Rhymer. Presently the dhow was seen standing directly for the coast. Ned, who was examining it through the telescope, exclaimed-- "There's the mouth of a river there, and she's steering for that." "Then we'll follow her up it; if she can get in we can," answered Rhymer, and the boat's head was put towards the opening for which the dhow was making. Had there been a doubt on the subject before, there was now no longer any that the dhow was full of slaves, and that probably their captors would make every effort to retain them. As the boat drew nearer the entrance of the river, between two sandy points, it was difficult to judge whether or not it was a stream of any considerable size. "If it's navigable for a hundred miles, we will follow the dhow up; I am not going to allow that craft to escape me," cried Rhymer. The slaver was now running directly before the wind, fast distancing the boat, and was soon seen to enter the river, pitching and tossing as if she had crossed a bar. Rhymer steered on; two or three heavy rollers in succession lifted the boat, but no water broke on board, and she was soon safe in and gliding over the smooth surface of the stream. The river, which was of considerable width, was thickly lined on both sides by trees; in the middle of it the dhow was seen, running on with all her canvas set, still beyond reach of the boat's gun. "We have her now, safe enough," exclaimed Rhymer; "though, if the river is navigable far up from the mouth, she may lead us a long chase before we catch her." "I only hope there may be no Arab fort up the river, or we may find it a difficult job to cut out the slaver after all," observed Charley. "An Arab fort! What made you think of that, youngster?" exclaimed Rhymer, looking somewhat blank. "If there is we shall have more fighting than we bargained for, but it will never do to go back without attempting to secure the dhow." "I should think not," remarked Ned. The men of course were ready for any work their officers determined on. The excitement of the chase and the prospect of fighting before them was greatly increased as the dhow got higher up the river; the wind falling, and sometimes becoming baffling, the boat gained on her. Ned was sent forward to look out for the fort, but he could discover no signs of a stockade; at any moment, however, a bend of the stream might disclose it to view. "Get out the oars!" cried Rhymer; "before long I hope the wind will fail the dhow altogether and we shall soon be up to her." The men gave way, in a few minutes the boat got the dhow within range of her gun. "We must try to bring her sail down," exclaimed Rhymer, giving the helm to Charley and springing forward to the gun. He fired, the shot went through the sail, but the chase stood on as before; the gun was quickly loaded, but the second shot, though well aimed, produced no more result than the first. It was pretty evident that the Arabs expected to reach some place of shelter, and that they would run on until they had gained it. This made Rhymer doubly anxious to come up with them before they could do so. He continued firing away as fast as the gun could be run in and loaded. Though the sail was riddled with shot, the yard and rigging remained uninjured. "Get the muskets ready, Garth!" he cried out. "We shall soon be near enough to send a shower of bullets among those fellows, and they will then, I have a notion, heave to pretty quickly." Scarcely, however, had he spoken than the breeze freshened up, and to his disappointment he found that the boat was no longer gaining on the dhow. Still he kept firing the gun, hoping that a fortunate shot might bring down her yard. Some way ahead, on the south side of the river, he observed a small bay, where the bank was steeper than in any other place and free of trees; the dhow appeared to be edging away towards it. "I must knock away that fellow's yard. I'd give a hundred guineas to see it come down," he exclaimed, as he again fired. The shot wounded the yard, for he could see the splinters fly from it, but it still remained standing; at any moment, however, it might go. The Arabs seemed to think so likewise, for the dhow was now steered directly for the little bay. Before another shot was fired at her, she was close up to the bank, and a black stream of human beings was seen issuing forth from her decks, and winding, like a long black snake, up among the grass and bushes, while the Arabs could be distinguished by their dress urging on the fugitives with their spears. "We must stop those fellows, and turn them back," exclaimed Rhymer, and resuming the tiller, he steered the boat for the shore at the nearest spot above the dhow where a landing could be effected. "Meadows, do you remain by the boat with a couple of hands, the rest of you follow me," he exclaimed as he leapt on shore. It was now seen that the blacks, of whom there appeared to be nearly two hundred, were becoming divided, some going off in one direction, some in another, while others, mostly women and children, were sinking down on the ground, unable to keep up with their companions. Rhymer on this made chase with most of his crew after the larger party; but he had not got far when he ordered Ned, with the coxswain, Dick Morgan by name, and two other hands, to pursue another who were going off to the left. Ned, as directed, started away at full speed, and soon outstripped his followers, who, as they overtook smaller parties of the blacks, tried to turn them back. The negroes on hearing the shouts of the sailors, and seeing them flourish their cutlasses, more frightened than ever, sank down to the ground. In vain the seamen endeavoured to make them rise, assuring them that they meant them no harm. Much time was lost in the attempt. Ned, in obedience to his orders, had got ahead of one party of the blacks and was seen by Dick Morgan making signs to induce them to stop running. When, however, Dick looked again, he could nowhere discover his young officer, while the slaves were scampering off at a rate which made it almost hopeless to overtake them. "Lads, we must not let Mr Garth be carried off by those niggers, for it seems to me that they have somehow or other got hold of him," exclaimed Dick, shouting to his companions. Away they dashed after the fugitives. They had got some distance when they heard Mr Rhymer hailing them to come back. Dick pointed in the direction where he had last seen the midshipman; but Mr Rhymer not understanding his signs, peremptorily ordered him and his companions to retreat to the boat. It was time indeed to do so, for a large party of well-armed Arabs appeared on the hill just before them, and with threatening gestures were advancing evidently with the intention of recovering the slaves they had captured. Rhymer saw at once that were he to remain he should run the risk of having his whole party cut off, and that his only safe course was to retreat as fast as possible to the boat; he accordingly gave the word to face about, and by threatening to fire, he kept the Arabs in check. Their object was evidently not so much to attack the English, as to get possession of the slaver. Had the boat been nearer the dhow, Rhymer might have boarded her and set her on fire, but in endeavouring to do so, he might expose his whole party to destruction. Had there been time even to get hold of any of the blacks, they could not have been taken into the boat, and Rhymer had therefore to make the best of his way down to her without securing a single one of them. The Arabs, who advanced more rapidly as they saw the English retreating, soon got under shelter of some trees, whence they opened a hot fire from matchlocks and gingalls. Rhymer ordered his men to fire in return, but their exposed position on the bank of the river, and their inferior numbers, rendered the combat unequal. Rhymer, who was as brave as most men, at first hoped to drive the enemy from their shelter, but he soon saw that he might lose many of his men in the attempt, and that his only prudent course was to get on board and shove off as fast as possible. Three of his men had already been hit; should he remain longer the crew might be so weakened as to be unable to pull the boat down the river. Charley, who had run the boat in ready to receive them when he saw them coming, was dismayed at not discovering Ned among the party. "Where is Mr Garth?" he exclaimed. "Have none of you seen him?" Rhymer repeated the question. Dick Morgan was the only man who could answer it: he replied that he had last set eyes on him while trying to induce the blacks to return to the dhow. "Have they killed him, do you think?" asked Charley, in a tone which showed his anxiety. "Can't say, sir; but if not, it is more than likely that those Arab fellows have got hold of him, and I'm afraid they'll not be treating him over well." Just then, however, there was no time to make further inquiries. The first thing to be done was to get out of reach of the Arabs' matchlocks. Rhymer gave the word to shove off, and the boat pulled away from the bank. He was vexed at the utter failure of the enterprise, and the blame which might be attributed to him for the loss of Ned. He might still, however, destroy the dhow. The Arabs, well aware of the long range of the boat's gun, were still keeping at a distance. There would be time to get up to the dhow and to set her on fire. Rhymer accordingly steered in where she lay, with the boat's gun ready to send a shot into the midst of any party who might venture to show themselves. Almost before the Arabs were aware of what was intended, the boat was up to the dhow, matches had been got ready, and the seamen springing on board, in less than a minute had set her on fire fore and aft. The combustible materials with which she was fitted quickly blazed up, and her destruction was inevitable. The men leapt back into the boat, which now pulled away out of gun-shot into the middle of the stream. "Surely we are not to leave Garth without going to look for him!" exclaimed Charley. "Perhaps he may be hiding himself somewhere, and will, when the Arabs retire, make his way down to the margin of the river expecting to be taken off." "Very little chance of that; but, depend on it, I'll not show my face on board without him if I can help it," answered Rhymer. Charley was obliged to be content with this promise. As he watched the shore through his telescope he could see the Arabs collecting the unfortunate slaves and driving them on before them, though he in vain searched for Ned among the former. Had he been made a prisoner he would probably have been seen. This made him hope that he might still be recovered. At length Rhymer began to grow impatient. The last of the slaves had been carried off, and the Arabs themselves had disappeared behind the hill. Charley now entreated Rhymer to pull in for the shore. "If you will let me I will land with any of the men who will volunteer, and we will search round in every direction for Garth; he may possibly have been wounded, and have crawled under some bushes to hide himself from the Arabs." Rhymer hesitated. "If I let you go you may be caught also, and I shall have to report the loss of two midshipmen instead of one." "O no, no! Do let me go!" cried Charley, in a beseeching tone. "The Arabs have gone away, and we will keep a good look-out not to be surprised. I am sure that some of the men will be ready to go with me." "I will!" exclaimed Dick Morgan. "And I, and I, and I," added others, until the whole boat's crew volunteered. At last Rhymer, feeling that he might be accused of deserting the midshipman, consented, allowing Morgan with three other men to accompany Charley. The boat accordingly returned to the shore. While Charley and his men pushed forward, Rhymer and the remainder having landed, advanced a short distance to support him in case he should have to retreat. Charley led the way to a spot pointed out by Morgan, where Ned had last been seen. They hunted about among the bushes, but no trace of him could they discover. "Ned Garth, Ned Garth! where are you?" shouted Charley again and again, forgetting in his anxiety that the Arabs might hear, but no answer reached him. There were traces, however, of the course the blacks had taken, wherever the ground was soft enough to receive impressions of their feet. Charley was tempted to follow, and the men, regardless of consequences, accompanied him. He had not gone far when he came upon two children who had evidently been let fall by those who were carrying them. Both were dead, and their shrunken little forms showed that they had died from starvation. The top of the hill was reached. Charley at length stopped and looked round, but neither Arabs nor blacks were anywhere visible. Though, had he consulted his own feelings, he would have gone on still farther, he remembered his promise to be cautious, and exclaimed with a heavy heart-- "We must go back; we may still find him, but I dare not push on further." The men appeared to share his feelings, for Ned was a favourite with all of them. They made their way towards the boat, searching the bushes as they went along, dreading that at any moment they might discover Ned's body. At length they met Rhymer. "He must have been made prisoner and carried off by the Arabs," cried Charley; "that is the only consolation we have." "Well, I suppose they would scarcely have taken the trouble to carry him off if he had been killed; and we must report to the commander that such is the conclusion we have arrived at, after making diligent search for him in all directions." Charley felt somewhat indignant that Rhymer did not express more regret at the loss of their young messmate; he, however, said nothing. They once more embarked, and shoving off, proceeded down the river. It was important to get over the bar before dark, and make the best of their way back to the ship, for the wounded men, now that the excitement was over, began to complain of their hurts, and it was, of course, necessary that they should be attended to by the surgeon with as little delay as possible. As the wind blew almost up the river, it was necessary to get the oars out and pull the boat over the bar. This was a heavy task with a diminished crew, but Rhymer sent one of the wounded men to the helm, while he took one oar and Charley another. They got down very well to the mouth, but the heavy foam-topped rollers which came tumbling in threatened to prevent them getting into the open sea beyond. "It must be done," exclaimed Rhymer. "To-morrow it may be worse, and we shall have a whole fleet of Arab boats coming down upon us." Twice, however, he pulled up to the inner roller, and backed the boat off again. For some minutes he stood up watching the seas; at length he exclaimed, "Now, my lads, now or never, give way," and all hands bending their backs to the oars, pulled on as British seamen are wont to do in cases of emergency. It was a struggle truly for life and death. Had the boat been caught broadside by one of those treacherous undulations, she would have been thrown over and over, and not a man on board could have escaped. Had an oar broken, or the men relaxed in their efforts, no power could have saved them. Three rollers had been passed, there were still two more to be encountered. The fourth advanced with a crest of foam. The boat had almost reached the summit, when the water came rushing over her bows, half-filling her; but the crew persevered, and the wounded men began bailing away with might and main. "Pull away, pull away, lads!" shouted Rhymer; "there's only one more, and we shall be clear of them." Again the boat rose, the water rushing aft, but the poor fellows seated there, in spite of their hurts, continued to heave it out. The next minute, having forced their way over the last roller, the boat was free. They had still a long pull before them until the boat could obtain a good offing, so that they might make sail and stand to the northward. At length the sails were set. By this time it was perfectly dark, yet, having a compass, a proper course could be kept. As the wind was light, it was not until near morning that they reached the island where they had left their tent and stores. As there was a moon they were able to steer into the bay. On landing they hurried up to where the tent had stood. "Why, where is it?" exclaimed Rhymer. They hunted about, neither their tent nor any of their stores could they discover. "Some fellows have been here and carried them off, no doubt about that," observed Charley; "but who they are is more than I can say." "The rascally crew of a dhow probably," answered Rhymer. "How the villains must have laughed at us when they saw our boat sailing away." A further search in no way cleared up the mystery, and all they could do was to light a fire and cook some provisions, which had fortunately been kept on board the boat. On the return of daylight they found the marks of numerous naked feet on the sand; but whether of blacks or Arabs they were unable to determine, though Charley suspected that they were those of a party of blacks who had come across from the mainland. This loss made it still more important for them to get back to the ship. As soon as they had taken a hurried breakfast, Rhymer ordered all hands on board, and once more they made sail to the northward. The old mate, as may be supposed, was in an especial ill-humour, which he vented on poor Charley, who required comforting for the loss of his friend. For three days he had to endure all the abuse heaped on him, but he bore it without complaint, resolving not again, if he could help it, to take a long cruise with Rhymer. At length a sail was seen ahead, standing towards them. As she drew nearer-- "That's her, that's the old ship!" cried Morgan, who was on the look-out. Dick was right, and in another hour the ship hove to and the boat got alongside. Rhymer's downcast countenance showed that he had unsatisfactory intelligence to communicate. The commander listened to his report, but made no remark; he then desired to hear Charley's account. "We can't let the poor boy be lost without a further effort to recover him!" observed Captain Curtis. He sent for Mr Hanson, and they held a consultation. The result was that the commander determined, having already picked up the other boats, to proceed to the mouth of the river and to send them in to inquire from the first Arabs they could meet with what had become of the missing midshipman and to insist on his liberation. There was a chance also of their capturing a dhow laden with the slaves which had been landed. The ship came off the mouth of the river at night, and the boats were got ready to go in over the bar as soon as there was light sufficient to see their way, by which time also the flood would have made. Mr Hanson begged to have charge of the expedition, as he felt an especial interest in the recovery of Ned. The boats pulled up at a rapid rate, and soon reached the spot where the encounter had taken place. Charley, who had accompanied Mr Hanson, kept a look-out along the bank, half expecting to see a signal made by Ned. No one appeared, and if there were any inhabitants, they kept out of sight. The boats pulled up the river for ten miles or more, till Mr Hanson's, which was leading, grounded. No trace of the missing midshipman was discovered, and, much disappointed, the expedition returned to the ship. The weather proving fine, the "Ione" remained at anchor. Every day a boat was sent in ready to receive the midshipman should he appear, but returned with the same unsatisfactory report. The commander, considering that everything possible had been done to recover the midshipman, then ordered the ship to be got under weigh, and she stood for Zanzibar, where he hoped, by other means, to be more successful, although the general opinion on board was that poor Garth had been killed, and that nothing more would be heard of him. CHAPTER EIGHT. The "Ione" had been upwards of three years on the station, and of late the sick list had been greatly increased, still the commander persevered in his efforts to capture slavers; but the Arabs, grown cautious, managed to avoid him, and for some time not a single dhow had been taken. One morning, as the ship lay becalmed on the shining ocean, with the sun's rays beaming down as from a furnace on the heads of the crew, the smoke of a steamer was seen coming from the southward. She rapidly approached, and coming nearer, made her number. She was a man-of-war. Had she came out to relieve the "Ione"? Every eye on board watched her eagerly. Stopping her way a boat was lowered; her commander came on board. No sooner were the contents of the despatch he brought known than cheers rose from fore and aft, joined in by the poor fellows in their hammocks. The "Ione" was to return home immediately. Before long a breeze sprang up, the two ships parted, and the corvette, under all sail, steered for the Cape. "The only thing I regret is going home without nearing of young Garth," observed the commander, as he walked the deck with his first lieutenant; "I would have given much to find him, but I fear that when he fell into their hands, the rascally Arabs killed him." "I am inclined to your notion, sir," answered Mr Hanson; "but I still have a lingering hope that by some means or other he may have escaped, although, as, notwithstanding all our inquiries and the rewards offered, no tidings of him had reached Zanzibar when we left the island, it is, I confess, very faint indeed." Charley Meadows was the only person in the midshipmen's berth who would not abandon all expectation of again seeing his friend, and who would very gladly have remained another year on the station with the chance of hearing of Ned. He dreaded also the melancholy duty which might fall to his lot of informing Lieutenant Pack and Miss Sarah and sweet Mary of Ned's fate. As the ship drew near England he thought over and over again of what he should say; no one had written, as the commander had been unwilling to alarm the boy's friends while any uncertainty existed. They would, therefore, on seeing the announcement in the papers of the "Ione's" return, be looking out eagerly for him. The corvette had a rapid passage, and on reaching Portsmouth was at once paid off. Charley Meadows had written to his father, who was still commander of the coast-guard station at Longview, giving an account of what had occurred, and begging him to break the intelligence to Lieutenant Pack. As soon as he was at liberty he hurried home. One of the first questions he put on his arrival was, "Have you told them, father, about poor Ned?" "No; for I only received your letter yesterday, and have been unable to get over and see our friends. It will be sad news to them. Whenever I have called on Pack and his sister, their nephew was always the subject of their conversation." Charley thus found that, after all, he must be the first to carry the sad intelligence to his friends. He, however, possessed the most valuable description of courage; he was morally, as well as physically, brave. The duty had to be performed, and he resolved to do it forthwith. As his father could not go, he set out by himself. Now and then he stopped to consider what he should say, and then hurried on, wishing to say it at once. Just before he reached Triton Cottage, he saw Mr Pack coming along the road; the old lieutenant stopped and looked at Charley as he approached, putting out his hand. "Glad to welcome you, my lad. I saw that the `Ione' had arrived and was to be paid off, so was looking out for you; but where is Ned? I thought you would have come down together." Now came the moment Charley had dreaded. "I will tell you how it happened, sir, directly, but Ned is not with us. I don't believe he is lost, and no one saw him dead; but the Arabs got hold of him, and he has not since turned up." "What! hasn't he come home with you?" exclaimed the lieutenant. "You don't mean to say that our Ned is dead?" "No, sir; but he's lost, and we don't know what has become of him," and Charley then gave a full account of all that had occurred. The old lieutenant listened attentively. "Poor Sally! poor Mary!" he murmured, as, leaning on Charley's shoulder, he walked back to the house. "It will well-nigh break their hearts to hear that he is dead, but I for one won't believe it; I tell you, Meadows, I can't believe it," his voice growing more husky as he spoke. "I expect to see Ned a commander before I die; he is sure to get on in the service. Sally won't believe it either; she's got too much good sense for that. Come along, however, you shall tell her and Mary about it, for I have not taken in all the particulars." The lieutenant stumped on, but Charley felt the hand which rested on his shoulder press more and more heavily. They together entered the parlour, where Miss Sarah and Mary were seated. "Ned, Ned!" cried Miss Sally, mistaking him for her nephew; but she quickly saw her mistake, while Mary knew him at once. "Where is Ned?" they both inquired, after they had shaken hands, Mary looking up into his face with an inquiring glance. "He hasn't come home with us," said Charley, "and Mr Pack will tell you what I have told him." The lieutenant was glad of this opportunity to give his own version of the story, for he was afraid Charley would alarm his sister and Mary. "You see Ned's not come home in the `Ione,' and that's a disappointment, I'll own. That he is all right I have no doubt, somewhere out in Africa among some Arabs who got hold of him while performing his duty--you may be sure Ned would be always doing that--and he hasn't yet been able to make his way down to the coast, or at all events to get on board an English ship. He'll do so by-and-by though. You two must not fret about him in the meantime. I know what Ned's made of; he has a fine constitution, and is not likely to succumb to the climate; and as to the Arabs, except in the matter of slavery, they are not a bad set of fellows." Thus the lieutenant ran on, until Miss Sarah, turning to Charley, asked him to give a more particular account. This he did, omitting no circumstance which might support the idea that Ned had escaped. Miss Sarah every now and then interrupted him with an ejaculation or a question, but poor Mary sat looking very pale and anxious, with her eyes fixed upon his countenance all the time and not uttering a word. Tom Baraka had seen Charley arrive with the lieutenant, and guessing that he had belonged to the "Ione," and had brought news of Ned, waited outside, hoping to learn from him why Ned had not come home. At length, however, unable to endure the suspense, he took the privilege of a favoured servant and came into the room. "You come from de `Ione,' massa?" he said, looking at Charley. "Pray tell me why Massa Ned not come back. Hab him gone in nudder ship?" Charley, who remembered Tom, briefly told him the particulars of Ned's disappearance. "Den I go an' look for him!" exclaimed Tom. "He go search for my boy, what I do better dan go look for him?" "O do, do!" cried Mary, springing up. "I would go too if I could be of any use." "You do not know the character of the country, Miss Mary," said Charley; "but if Tom would go, if he escapes being caught by the Arabs, he would have a better chance of finding him than any one else. How to get there would be the difficulty, unless he could obtain a passage on board a man-of-war going out to the coast." "Yes, yes, I go!" cried Tom; "I find a way, nebber fear." "We must think the matter over, and consider what can be done," said the lieutenant. "Ask your father, Charley, to come here and give me the benefit of his advice, and I will write to Hanson, they'll have his address at the Admiralty, and he will come down here and tell us what he thinks best, or I'll go up to London myself and see their lordships. They would not wish a promising young officer to be lost without taking all possible steps for his recovery." Charley's spirits rose as he found his friends even more sanguine than himself as to the finding of Ned. They talked on and on without any material alteration in their proposed plan. The lieutenant said that he would write to Mr Farrance, as in duty bound, to tell him of Ned's disappearance, and to ask his advice. "He has the means of helping us, and judging from the generous way in which he has acted towards Ned, I feel sure that we can rely on him," he observed. Charley went back with a message to his father, who came over that evening, and the subject was again discussed in all its bearings, indeed the old lieutenant could think and talk of nothing else. He had, in the meantime, despatched his letters to Mr Farrance and the late first lieutenant of the "Ione," and determined, by the advice of Mr Meadows, to take no steps until he heard from them. The next day Charley again came over, and greatly interested Mary and her aunt by the account he gave of their adventures in the Indian Ocean. He inspired Mary with a strong wish to see the horrible traffic in slaves put an end to. "If I had a fortune I would devote it to that object," she exclaimed enthusiastically. "What sufferings the poor little children have to endure; and then the agony of their parents as they are dragged off from their homes to die on their way to the sea, or on board those horrible dhows, or to be carried into slavery, which must be worse than death." Her remarks had greater influence on Charley than even the miserable state of the slaves on board the dhows had produced. "I will do all I can to try and get back to the coast as soon as possible, or if an expedition is formed to go up the country to look for Ned I'll get my father to allow me to join it; I am pretty well seasoned to the climate by this time--never had an hour's illness while I was away." By return of post a letter was received from Mr Farrance. He sympathised with the lieutenant and his sister in their anxiety about their nephew; said that he would be glad to defray the expenses should any plan be formed for discovering him, and begged to see Mr Pack in town as soon as possible. The old lieutenant accordingly at once made preparations for his journey. Fortunately, before he started, he received a letter from Mr Hanson, saying that in the course of three or four days he would come down. "I shall be in time to stop him," observed the lieutenant, "and to talk the matter over with him before I see Mr Farrance, who will, of course, want all the information I can give him. I'll take Tom with me; he knows his own country, and his woolly pate contains as much good sense as many a white man's skull." Tom could scarcely restrain the delight he felt on hearing of his master's decision. "But who take care ob de house, de pigs, and de garden, and de poultry?" he exclaimed of a sudden, as if the idea had just struck him. "The ladies and Jane will attend to them, and no one will think of robbing the house during our absence," was the answer. The lieutenant and his black attendant set off the following morning and reached London in safety, arriving just in time to stop Mr Hanson from going down to Triton Cottage. He doubted whether the Admiralty would consider themselves justified in sending out any special expedition, and they had already given directions to the vessels on the coast to make all inquiries in their power, but he thought that a private expedition such as his friend suggested might possibly succeed, although he was not very sanguine on the subject. Young Garth might possibly be alive, and until they had received proof positive of his death hope ought not to be abandoned. He was expecting his own promotion, but should he not obtain it, he should be ready to go out in command of a properly organised expedition. Trustworthy natives might be found, they were not all so black as generally described. A private vessel, which would remain on the coast while the expedition pushed inland, would entail considerable cost. Where were the funds to come from? When the old lieutenant related Mr Farrance's offer to defray all expenses, his friend's countenance brightened. "That alters the case; we will see him without delay, and if he has the means we are right to take advantage of his liberality," said Mr Hanson. The two officers, therefore, accompanied by Tom Baraka, proceeded to the address of Mr Farrance in one of the fashionable parts of London. The old lieutenant was somewhat taken aback, as he expressed it, on finding himself in a handsome mansion, such as he had never before in his life entered; it appeared to him a perfect palace. He and his companion were at once ushered into a large study, where they found Mr Farrance, who, rising from his seat, welcomed them cordially. He expressed his sincere regret at hearing of the disappearance of his young friend, from whose commander, he said, he had received excellent accounts. "We must find him if he is to be found. What object the Arabs can have for keeping him in captivity, when a reward has been offered for his liberation, it is difficult to say. However, I am very glad to have the means of assisting to recover him." Mr Farrance, after putting numerous questions to the two officers and Tom, observed, "We will consider the matter settled. I have two objects in view; besides the recovery of our young friend, I am sure the more the natives are brought into intercourse with white men who show that they come for the purpose of benefiting them, the sooner will the slave trade be put a stop to and the Arabs driven out of the country. Not until then will the negroes be able to enjoy the blessings of peace, and the possibility of advancing in civilisation and embracing the truths of Christianity. As you, Lieutenant Pack, know those seas and are willing to take charge of a vessel, I shall be glad to obtain for you the command of one suited for the purpose; and I conclude, as you would find it inconvenient to travel--indeed you should not make the attempt--you would remain on board while the rest of the party penetrate into the interior. You, I dare say, Mr Hanson, can get some trustworthy men among your late crew to accompany you; but we must rely chiefly on the natives for furnishing a sufficient force." Mr Hanson was delighted with the readiness shown by Mr Farrance to forward their object, and he and his brother officer at once promised to under take the arrangement of an expedition. "No time then must be lost," replied Mr Farrance. "I give you and Lieutenant Pack authority to obtain such a vessel as you consider fit for the purpose, and to engage a crew for her, and companions for your land journey. You will, I conclude, select a small craft which can keep close in with the coast or run up rivers, as every mile you can go by water will save you so much, or probably a still greater distance of land journey." Further arrangements having been made, the two officers and Tom Baraka took their departure, promising to report progress. Mr Hanson was not a man to let the grass grow under his feet, and the old lieutenant was even more eager than his friend to get under weigh. Within three days they paid another visit to Mr Farrance. They had purchased a schooner of about 150 tons, which had once been a yacht--a fast craft. Hands had been engaged, chiefly from the crew of the "Ione"; three men from Cowes accustomed to fore and aft vessels, one of whom was to act as mate. The fitting out of the schooner would be an easy matter, but the preparations for the land journey required more time and consideration. The only two people who had as yet undertaken to go were Charley Meadows and Tom Baraka. Two stout Africans who had lately arrived in England on board a ship from India, and who stated that when boys they had been captured on the east coast, but had escaped from Madagascar, to which island they had been carried, to an English merchantman, appeared well suited for the undertaking. Mr Hanson was only waiting until he could hear more about them. Being satisfied with their testimonials he engaged them, and the next day, as he was prosecuting his search in the neighbourhood of the docks, he met with an Arab and three Lascars, of whom, on inquiry of the masters of the ships who brought them home, he obtained a favourable report. The Lascars were brave and useful fellows, while the Arab spoke English fairly, and he had already penetrated some way into the interior of Africa. Both officers, assisted by Charley Meadows, who had been sent for, were engaged from morning until night in superintending the preparations. The old lieutenant when he quitted home had expected to return, but as the "Hope" was ready for sea, he changed his purpose and wrote to his sister explaining his reasons. "I don't want to go through another parting, Sally," he said. "You know I love you and Mary with all my heart, but that heart is not so tough as it ought to be perhaps, and I could not bear saying `good-bye' again, when I have said it already, although I didn't think it was for long. If Ned is found, and I make no doubt about the matter, we shall have, I pray God, a happy meeting, and I expect to find Mary grown at least an inch taller, tell her. Don't either of you fret; whatever happens all will be for the best--of that you may be sure. Should it please Him who governs all things to call me away--and I do not shut my eyes to the possibility--you will find my will in my desk. I have provided, as far as I can, for you and Mary." This letter was received the very morning the "Hope" was to sail. It caused considerable disappointment to Aunt Sally and Mary, but they could not help confessing that after all it was for the best. "My good brother always acts wisely," said Aunt Sally. "It would have cost us a good deal to say `good-bye,' when we knew he was going away to that terrible country Africa!" "Perhaps the `Hope' will come off here," observed Mary; "we shall then see uncle and Tom Baraka, and perhaps Mr Hanson and Charley, and be able to send messages by them to Ned. As they sailed this morning, they may be off here in a couple of days." Mary, as may be supposed, kept a constant look-out through the lieutenant's telescope, but time went by and no schooner appeared. Some days afterwards a letter, which had been landed by a pilot vessel, brought information that the "Hope" was already in the chops of the channel and all well. Aunt Sally and Mary at first felt a great blank in their existence. The lieutenant's cheery voice was no longer heard, and his chair stood vacant at their daily meals, while, instead of the master, Miss Sally led the morning and evening prayer to the diminished household. Tom Baraka's merry laugh was also missed, for in spite of his one absorbing thought, he was merry when he gave way to his natural disposition. Aunt Sally and Mary did not, however, neglect their usual avocations. They had plenty of work now that Jane had not time to assist them. The garden had to be attended to, and they persevered in their visits to the neighbouring poor. Mary very frequently went to see Mr Shank. The old man received her with more apparent gratitude than he used before to exhibit, and willingly listened when she read to him. He was evidently deeply interested in the account she gave him of the expedition in search of Ned, as also when she repeated the information she had received from Charley Meadows about Africa and the slave trade. "Terrible, terrible," he muttered, "that men should sell each other for gold and produce all this suffering, and yet--" he was silent and seemed lost in thought. Mary did not for some minutes again speak. She then continued-- "It is the duty of all who have the means to try and put a stop to this fearful state of things, and to assist in sending missionaries of the Gospel and artisans to teach Christianity to the poor blacks, and to instruct them in the useful arts of civilised life." "The Government should do that," said Mr Shank. "We pay them taxes." "The Government do their part by sending out ships-of-war to stop the dhows and the Arabs who steal the slaves, making the trade so difficult and dangerous a one that many will be compelled to give it up--so uncle says--and what more than that can the Government do? Private people must carry on the rest of the work, and a more noble and glorious one I am sure cannot be found. If I had ever so much money, I should like to spend it in that way." "But you would get no interest, you would see no result," said the old man. Mary pointed to the Bible she had brought, and from which she had previously been reading. "There is a verse there which tells us that we are to lay up riches in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through and steal," she answered in an unaffected tone. "I should not expect interest, and I am very sure that I should be satisfied with the result." The old man again mused, this time far longer than before. "And so you want to make Christians and civilised men of those black Africans of whom you spoke?" he observed. "Yes; it is the only way to make them become happy here and happy hereafter," she said, energetically. "I am sure of it. If all the money that is hoarded up or spent uselessly were devoted to such a work, how soon might the condition of the unfortunate negroes be changed for the better." "Then do you blame those who hoard up money?" asked the old man. "Yes, indeed I do. I think they are wicked, very wicked, and are not making a good use of the talents committed to them. They are just as wicked as those who throw it away or spend it badly." "You are a severe censor, Miss Mary," said the old man. "But you are right, very right." He placed his hand on his brow. Mary took her leave, feeling more drawn towards Mr Shank than she had ever before been, he seemed so softened and so sad, and very much weaker than he had before appeared. Mary told her aunt. "He suffers from want of food," observed Miss Sally. "You shall go again to-morrow and take him another pudding, and say that I will send one for him, if he wishes it, every day." Mary reached Mr Shank's door. She heard him feebly approaching to withdraw the bolts; as soon as he had done so, he tottered back, panting, to his seat. "I am glad you have come, Mary, or I might have been found stiff and cold on my bed. I am very ill, I fear, for I have never felt before as I do now," he said, in so low and trembling a voice that Mary had to draw closer to hear him. She begged him to eat the food she had brought, hoping that it might restore his strength. He followed her advice, lifting the spoon slowly to his mouth. After he had finished the food he appeared somewhat stronger. "Thank you, Mary," he said. "I owe you a great deal more than I can now tell you, for I have something else to say. I want you to bring me a lawyer, an honest man, if such is to be found, and his clerk must come to witness my signature. I'll try to keep alive until he arrives, for, Mary, do you know I think that I am dying." "O no, I hope not, Mr Shank. You are only weak from want of food," exclaimed Mary, who, however, was much alarmed. "I will go on to where Mr Thorpe lives, I know the way perfectly, and have heard uncle say that he is a good and honest man, and is trusted by all the people round." "Go then, Mary, go!" said the old man. "Don't allow any one to stop you; and if Mr Thorpe is out, write a message requesting him to come on here immediately." Mary, promising Mr Shank that she would obey his wishes, hastened away. She observed that he did not close the door behind her as usual. She found Mr Thorpe at home and gave her message. "What! old Shank the miser? I suspect that he has something worth leaving behind," observed the lawyer. "I'll be with him immediately, depend on that. But how are you going to get back, young lady?" "Oh, I can walk perfectly well," said Mary. "No; let me drive you as far as old Shank's, and if you like to remain I will take you on to Triton Cottage. Miss Sally will not know what has become of you." Mary was glad to accept this offer, and the lawyer's gig being brought round, she took her seat between him and his clerk. "I will wait outside," she said when they reached Mr Shank's door. "I can look after your horse and see it doesn't run away, for Mr Shank may have something particular to tell you which he might not wish me to hear." The lawyer, appreciating Mary's delicacy, agreed, though he did not give her the charge of his horse, as the animal was well accustomed to stand with its head fastened to a paling while he visited his clients. Mary waited and waited, sometimes walking about, at others standing beside the gig, or sitting on the hillside, on the very spot which had often been occupied by Ned. Her thoughts naturally flew away to him. Where could he be all this time? Would Mr Hanson and Charley discover him, or would they return without tidings of his fate? The lawyer at last appeared, and, directing his clerk to return home with some papers he held in his hand, he begged Mary to get into the gig. "I must run in to see old Mr Shank first," she said, "and learn if there is anything aunt or I can do for him." "You will find him more easy in his mind than he was when I arrived; but in regard to assistance, he doesn't require it as much as you suppose. He has consented to let me send a doctor, and a respectable woman to attend on him. He is not in a fit state to be left by himself." Mary was surprised at these remarks. Not wishing to delay the lawyer she hurried in. Mr Shank, who was still seated in his arm-chair, put out his shrivelled hand and clasped hers. "Thank you, Mary, thank you!" he said. "You deserve to be happy, and Heaven will bless your kindness to a forlorn old man. I may live to see you again, but my days are numbered, whatever the lawyer may say to the contrary." Mary explained that Mr Thorpe was waiting for her, and saying that she was glad to hear he was to have some one to attend on him, bade him good-bye. During the drive to Triton Cottage the lawyer did not further allude to Mr Shank, and Mary very naturally forbore to question him. Aunt Sally, who had become somewhat anxious at her long absence, was greatly surprised at seeing Mr Thorpe, and not being influenced by the same motive as Mary, inquired what the old man could possibly have desired to see him about. "To make his will, Miss Sally," answered the lawyer; "it has been signed, sealed, and delivered in the presence of myself and John Brown, my clerk, and its contents are to remain locked in our respective breasts and my strong box until the due time arrives for its administration. That he has made a will argues that he has, as you may suppose, some property to leave, and that the people in our neighbourhood were not so far wrong in calling him a miser; but he has hoarded to some purpose, and I wish that all misers would leave their gold in as satisfactory a manner as he has done." In vain Miss Sally endeavoured to elicit further information; the lawyer laughed and rubbed his hands, but not a word more could she get out of him than he chose to say. Then turning the subject, he steadily declined again entering on it, though he made himself agreeable by conversing in a cheerful tone on various others. Mary's anxiety prompted her to visit Mr Shank the next day, and her aunt not objecting she set off by herself. A respectable-looking woman opened the door, and courtesied to her as she did so. "How is Mr Shank?" asked Mary. "He is not worse than he was yesterday; he has been asking for you ever so many times, miss, and has made me go to the door to see if you were coming. He'll be main glad to see you. I have been working hard to make the house look a little tidy, but it is in a sad mess; it is a wonder the whole of it didn't come down and crush the old man before this--" The woman would have continued to run on in the same strain had not Mary begged to be allowed to enter. She found Mr Shank seated in his arm-chair, looking, as she thought, very pale and weak. He thanked her, much in his usual way, for again coming to see him, and for bringing him another of Miss Sally's puddings, but Mary remarked that he no longer spoke of his poverty. "I wanted very much to see you, my dear," he said, in a gentle tone, which contrasted greatly with that in which he used formally to speak; "but I don't want listeners, Mrs Mason, I will request you to retire and busy yourself at the further end of the house, or out of doors." The old woman looked somewhat astonished, but obeyed without replying. Mary could not fail to be surprised at the tone of authority in which he spoke, as if he had been accustomed all his life to give directions to an attendant. "Mary," he said, as he sat with his hands clasped, leaning back in his chair, and glancing half aside at her fair countenance, as if a feeling of shame oppressed him, "you have been my good angel. I owe you much, more than I can ever repay. Had it not been for you, I should have gone down to my grave a miserable, wretched being, with no one to care for me; but you awoke me to a sense of better things. I have not always been as I am now, but care and disappointment came upon me, and those I loved were lost through my fault, by my hard treatment. I see it now, but I thought then they were alone to blame. I once had wealth, but it was dissipated almost, not all, and I feared lest the remainder would be lost; then I became what you have known me, a wretched, grovelling miser. I had a daughter, she was young and fair, and as bright as you are, but she desired to live as she had been accustomed to, not aware of my losses, and I stinted her of everything except the bare necessaries of life. She had many admirers: one of them was wealthy, but Fanny regarded him with dislike; the other, a fine youth, was, I thought, penniless. She returned his affection, and I ordered him never again to enter my doors. My child bore my treatment meekly, but one day she came into my presence, and in a calm but firm voice said she would no longer be a burden to me; that she was ready to toil for my support were it requisite, but that she was well aware that I was possessed of ample means to obtain the comforts as well as the necessaries of life. Enraged, I ordered her, with a curse, to quit my house, declaring that I would never see her again. She obeyed me too faithfully, and became the young man's wife, and she and her husband left England. I heard shortly afterwards that the ship in which they sailed had been wrecked. That such was the case I had every reason to believe as from that day I lost all trace of them. Hardhearted as I was, I believed that my child had met her just doom for the disobedience into which I myself had driven her, and having no one to care for, I sank into the wretched object you found me. You will think of me, Mary, with pity rather than scorn when I am gone?" "Do not speak so, Mr Shank; I have long, long pitied you," said Mary, soothingly. "You are not what you were; you mourn your past life, and you know the way by which you can be reconciled to a merciful God." The old man gazed at her fair countenance. "No other human being could have moved me but you," he said; "you reminded me from the first of my lost child, and I listened to you as I would have listened to no one else. Bless you! bless you!" Mary had already spent a longer time than she had intended listening to the old man's history. She rose to go away. He kept her small hand in his shrivelled palms. "I should wish my last gaze on earth to be on your face, Mary; I should die more easily, and yet I do not fear death as I once did when I strove to put away all thoughts of it. I know it must come before long; it may be days, or weeks, and you will then know how my poor wretched heart has loved you." Mary, not understanding him, answered-- "You have shown me that already, Mr Shank, and I hope you may be spared to find something worth living for." "Yes, if I had health and strength I should wish to assist in benefiting those poor Africans of whom you have so often told me, and putting an end to the fearful slave trade; but I cannot recall my wasted days, and I must leave it to you, Mary. If you have the means to try and help them, you will do so, I know, far better than I can." "I shall be thankful if I can ever benefit the poor Africans," said Mary, smiling at what appeared to her so very unlikely. "But I must stop no longer, or Aunt Sally will fancy that some harm has befallen me." Mary wished him good-bye, summoning Mrs Mason as she went out. On Mary's return to Triton Cottage she found Lieutenant Meadows, who had come to wish her and her aunt good-bye, his turn of service on the coast-guard having expired. He inquired whether they had received any news of the "Hope." "She must have been round the Cape long ago. Hanson and his people should by this time have landed, so that you would get letters from the Cape, or perhaps even from Zanzibar, in the course of a week or two. You will write to me and say what news you receive in case Charley's letters should miscarry." Miss Sally promised, without fail, to write as Mr Meadows requested, and he gave her his address. When he was gone, Miss Sally and Mary had no one to talk to on the subject nearest their hearts. They discussed it over and over again by themselves, in spite of Aunt Sally's declaration that it was of no use, and that they had better not speak about the matter; yet she was generally the first to begin, and Mary would bring out the map, and they both would pore over it, the elder lady through her spectacles, as if they could there discover by some magical power where Ned was, and the point the "Hope" had reached. They were cheerful and happy, though nothing occurred to vary the monotony of their everyday life, until the post one morning brought a letter addressed to Miss Sarah Pack. "Whom can it be from?" she exclaimed, adjusting her spectacles. "It is not from my brother; it bears only the English post mark. Give me my scissors, Mary." And she deliberately cut it open, though not the less eager to know its contents. Mary watched her as she read, holding the letter up to the light, and murmuring, "Astonishing!" "Very strange!" "I cannot understand it!" "And yet not impossible!" "I don't know whether I ought to tell you the contents of this," she said, after she had read it twice over; "it may agitate you, my dear Mary, and raise expectations only to be disappointed. It is from Mr Farrance, and a very singular story he gives me." These remarks could not fail to arouse Mary's curiosity. "Is it about Ned? Has he been found? Is he coming back?" she exclaimed, her hand trembling in an unusual manner as she was about to pour out a cup of tea for her aunt. "No, he does not give us any news of Ned. The letter has reference to you. I ought not to wish that anything to your advantage should not happen, but yet I almost dread lest Mr Farrance's expectations should be realised." "Oh, do tell me, aunt, what Mr Farrance says!" exclaimed Mary. "I will nerve myself for whatever it may be; but I cannot even guess." "Have you no suspicion on the subject?" asked Miss Sally, after a few moments' silence. "None whatever," answered Mary. Miss Sally looked at her earnestly with eyes full of affection, and then said, speaking very slowly-- "You know, my dear Mary, how my brother found you and Tom Baraka floating on a piece of wreck in the Indian Ocean, and how neither you nor Tom were able to give any account of yourselves--he not understanding English, and you being too young to remember what had occurred. From the day my brother brought you home we have ever loved you dearly, and supposing that your parents perished, we believed that no one would appear to take you away from us." "Yes, indeed, dear aunt, and I have never wished to leave you," said Mary, in a gentle tone. "If Mr Farrance wishes me to do so, pray tell him that it is impossible." "There may be one who has a greater right to claim you than we have, and should he prove his claim, we should be unable to hold you from him." "But how can any one have a claim upon me? I don't understand, aunt," said Mary, completely puzzled. "Pray tell me what Mr Farrance does say." "You shall hear his letter, and then judge for yourself, my dear child," said Miss Sally, and again holding the letter before her spectacles, she read-- "My Dear Miss Pack,--I lose no time in informing you during your good brother's absence of a circumstance which may possibly greatly affect your young charge Mary. I must tell you that I had a brother who, at an early age, having married imprudently, left England, and that I and the rest of his family long supposed him dead. Two days ago a gentleman, who said that he had just returned to this country after having resided for many years in one of the Dutch East India settlements, called upon me. After some conversation he inquired whether I suspected who he was, and, greatly to my astonishment, he announced himself as my long-lost brother. He was so changed by time and a pestiferous climate, and sorrow and trials of all sorts, that I had a great difficulty in recognising him, though I was at length satisfied that he was my brother, and as such welcomed him home. While he was yesterday evening narrating the events of his life, he mentioned having sent his wife, whose health required a change of climate, and their only child, a little girl, on board a ship bound for the Cape of Good Hope, where a correspondent of his house had promised to receive them, but that the ship was lost and that all on board, it was believed, had perished. On hearing this it at once struck me as possible, and remember I say barely possible, that the child picked up by Lieutenant Pack might be my brother's daughter. On comparing dates I found, as nearly as I can calculate, that they agree. Of course I do not forget that there might have been several children of the same ago on board the ship. Even should the wreck Mr Pack fell in with have been a portion of the ill-fated ship, yet some other child instead of my brother's might have been saved. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to identify her. My brother is more sanguine than I am on the subject, and is anxious to come down with me as soon as his health will allow, if you will give us permission, to see your young charge. You may possibly have preserved the clothes she had on and any ornaments about her which might assist in her identification. Although my brother might not be able to recognise them, he tells me that a black girl, who was a nurse in his family and much attached to the child, is still alive, and he proposes to send for her immediately. He has married again and has a large family. Though Mary may be pleased to find that she has a number of brothers and sisters, her position as to fortune will not be greatly altered; however on that point she will not concern herself as much as you and others, her elders, may possibly do, and we will take care that she is not the loser should the hopes we entertain be realised. "I have written this, my dear madam, as you ought to receive the earliest information on the subject, and because you may think fit to prepare your young charge for what may otherwise prove so startling to her; but I leave that to your judgment, and hoping in the course of a few days to see you, "I remain, "Yours faithfully, "J. Farrance." Mary sat for some minutes, her hands clasped and apparently lost in thought, then she burst into tears, exclaiming, "My poor, poor mother! I cannot help picturing her on the deck of the sinking ship, while the fierce waves were foaming around her until she was carried away and lost." It was strange she did not think so much of her supposed father and the new brothers and sisters she might find. Miss Sally endeavoured to calm her. "My dear, dear Mary, I ought not to have read this letter to you," she exclaimed, "you must try to forget it; but I am afraid that you will not do that, and we must endeavour to wait patiently until Mr Farrance and his brother appear. They may find that they are mistaken, and then you will still be my little niece, and as much loved as ever." Mary soon grew calm, and tried to follow Miss Sally's advice by waiting patiently for the appearance of their expected visitors. We, in the meantime, must go to a far off part of the world. CHAPTER NINE. No one will suppose that Ned Garth was dead, more than did his loving friends, although a long time had elapsed, and no tidings of him had been received. When ordered by Mr Rhymer to try and prevent the escape of the slaves, he sprang forward without thinking of the risk he ran. He had succeeded in getting in front of a large party of the fugitives, endeavouring by all the significant gestures he could think of to induce them to turn back to the shore, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from behind. He retained sufficient consciousness, however, to be aware that he had been picked up and was being dragged along rapidly in the midst of a crowd of blacks. He could hear at first the shouts of his shipmates, but they gradually became less and less distinct. He felt that he was being carried forward further and further from the river, sometimes completely lifted off his feet. He could not, fortunately for himself, collect his scattered senses sufficiently to consider what would probably be his fate. His first idea, when he recovered from the blow, was the desire to try and escape, but he had neither the strength nor opportunity to get away. When he opened his eyes he saw a number of black faces scowling round him, and several well-dressed Arabs a little distance off, while on every side were other negroes being driven in like a flock of terrified sheep to a common centre. Presently a much larger party of Arabs than those who had formed the crew of the dhow made their appearance, and were welcomed with shouts of satisfaction. The whole party now occupied themselves in binding the negroes, some with ropes round their necks and others with forked sticks, a treatment to which they appeared to submit without resistance. The blacks who guarded Ned were apparently free men, or at all events attached to the Arabs. They jabbered away and made signs, intimating that he was soon to be put to death; he prepared himself therefore for what he had too much reason to fear would be his fate. He knew that it would be useless to ask for mercy. Had he been able to speak their tongue, he would have told them that they would gain much more by delivering him up to his friends; but, as his arms were kept tight, he could not even make signs to that effect. He waited therefore, with as much calmness as he could command, for what would next follow. Several of the slaves had in the meantime attempted to escape, but were pursued by the Arabs and some of the free blacks. The least active, or those who had last started, were soon brought back; he heard, however, shots fired, and after a time the pursuers returned dragging along those they had recovered, two of whom were bleeding from gun-shot wounds in the shoulders. Whether any had been killed he could not then learn, but he afterwards ascertained that three had been shot as a warning to the rest. The slaves having at length been secured, the party moved forward towards the west, keeping the river in sight on their right hand. As evening approached, they encamped at some distance from the bank. Fires were lighted, but no food was cooked--for the best of all reasons, that the party were destitute of provisions. Ned observed that armed sentries were placed round the camp, but that was probably to prevent any of the slaves escaping rather than on account of an expected attack. He had some faint hope that Rhymer might have got back to the ship in time to give information of what had happened, and that the boats might be sent up to attempt his recapture. At length, overcome with fatigue, he lay down between the two blacks who had him in charge, and in spite of the disagreeable proximity of his guards, he was soon fast asleep; his slumbers, however, were troubled, but he continued dozing on until he was aroused by the Arabs summoning their followers to re-commence the march. Water had been brought from the river, but they started without food, and it was not till late in the day that, reaching a village, they compelled the inhabitants to supply them by threatening to burn their huts if they refused. Ultimately, crossing the river by a ford, they proceeded for some distance towards the north. Ned did not fail to be on the watch for an opportunity of escaping; he thought that if he could hide himself away he might get down to the coast, and have a chance of falling in with one of the boats. He was, however, far too closely guarded, he discovered, for this to be possible. He was still unable to conjecture for what object the Arabs had carried him off. For three days they journeyed on, the whole party suffering greatly from want of food, and sometimes from thirst, when long stretches of barren ground were passed over without a drop of water to be found. At last he discovered that they were directing their course once more to the eastward, and in another day they came in sight of the sea. There was a high cliff on the right hand, sheltering a deep bay in which three dhows rode at anchor. On a signal being made the dhows stood in towards the inner part of the bay, where a small creek formed a harbour of sufficient size to contain them, so that they were able to moor close to the shore. Several Arabs landed from each of them. After the preliminary salaams had been gone through, business at once commenced, which terminated apparently in a bargain being struck for the purchase of the whole party of slaves, their price consisting of bales of cloth, coils of wire, beads, and other articles, which were at once landed; and this being done, the slaves were shipped on board the dhows. Ned almost hoped that he might be sent with them, as he thought that he might thus have a better opportunity of making his escape than he could expect to find should he be detained by his captors. He was greatly disappointed, therefore, on finding that he was still kept a prisoner. He looked seaward with a longing gaze, thinking it possible that either the ship or the boats might appear in search of the dhows; but not seeing them, he guessed that the cunning Arabs had taken the opportunity of shipping the slaves while they remained off the mouth of the river. Several other Arabs had joined their party, which now consisted of thirty well-armed men, besides nearly one hundred pagazis, or carriers, hired from the neighbouring villages to convey the goods into the interior. Among them was a finely-dressed individual wearing on his head a large turban, and round his waist a rich scarf, into which were stuck a dagger and a brace of silver-mounted pistols. He appeared to take the lead, and Ned discovered that he was called Mohammed-ibn-Nassib. He had not long joined the party when his eye fell on Ned. Pointing towards him he inquired who the young stranger was. The answer he received appeared to satisfy him, and he turned away without making any further remark. The party being marshalled the march began, the Arabs keeping a strict watch on the blacks carrying their goods. At nightfall they halted near the banks of a stream which evidently fell into the main river. As Ned observed its course, the thought occurred to him that if he could find a canoe, or for want of one a log of timber, he might float down with the current and reach the boats, which he felt sure would be sent to look for him. To do this, however, he must first elude his guards, who were, he found to his satisfaction, less watchful than at first, being apparently satisfied that he would not attempt to escape. It was terribly trying work to be alone, without any one to speak to who understood a word he said. Several fires were lighted in the camp, which served both for cooking provisions and scaring away the wild beasts. Ned was allowed to sit near one, round which Mohammed and the other Arabs collected. Hoping to throw them off their guard, he assumed as unconcerned an air as possible, endeavouring to make them believe that he was reconciled to his lot. He was still as much in the dark as ever as to what they intended to do with him. Their purpose could scarcely be to sell him as a slave, but possibly they thought that by exhibiting him as a prisoner to the black chiefs they might gain the credit of having defeated the English. In a short time their evening meal was brought by the attendants, one of whom, when they were served, placed a bowl of rice, seasoned with red pepper and salt, before him. It was the food the slaves were fed upon. Though aware of this, he was too hungry to refuse it, and trying to look perfectly satisfied, he ate up the rice as if it was exactly the dish he preferred, and then put out the bowl to ask for more. Mohammed shook his head to signify that he must be content with the share given him, while the rest seemed highly amused with his look of disappointment. After some time they retired to sleep in some rude huts, which their attendants had put up for them, when he was led away by his two watchful guards. He was placed as usual between them, and lay down, covering himself up with a piece of matting which one of the Arabs more kindly disposed than the rest had given him. Drawing the matting over his head, he pretended to go to sleep, but he kept his eye at a hole, through which he could partially see what was taking place. He waited for some time watching his guards until their loud snores assured him that their slumbers were not feigned, and at length all sounds having ceased in the camp, he cautiously lifted up his head to ascertain whether any sentries had been placed near him, but he could see none either on the one side or the other. The fires had burnt low. "Some one will soon come to wake them up," he thought; "it will be imprudent to move yet." He waited for some time longer, but the flames got lower and lower, and at last the glare they had thrown on the neighbouring trees faded away. "Now or never is my time to escape," he said to himself. Creeping out from under his mat, which he left raised up in the centre to appear as if he was still beneath it, he crawled along for some distance on his hands and knees. He stopped, however, every now and then to ascertain if any sentry, who might have been lying down, had risen to his feet and was likely to discover him. Thus advancing a few yards at a time, he made his way towards the river. His intention was then to continue down along it until he could find a canoe. He had nearly gained the water when cries, shrieks, and loud shouts reached his ear, followed by the sound of fire-arms. Several bullets came whistling close to his head; to avoid them he sprang behind the trunk of a large tree. Scarcely had he done so, when he heard close to him the crash of bushes, and a huge animal bounded by carrying in its jaws what, seen through the gloom, appeared to be the dead body of a man. He heard a faint cry as if from a human voice, followed by the continued crash of the underwood as the creature rushed along the very course he had intended to pursue. Hardly had it disappeared than the cries and shouts, growing nearer and nearer, showed him that a number of men from the camp were coming in pursuit of the animal, and that he could scarcely avoid being discovered. Even if this should happen, he had reason to be thankful that he had not attempted to make his escape sooner, or he would in all probability have met the lion and fallen a victim instead of the man who had been carried off. He crouched down among the thick roots of the tree, hoping that even now he might not be discovered; at the same time he felt that it would be madness to attempt to pursue the course he had intended down the river, as he should in all probability, if he did so, encounter the lion which had carried off the man. He waited, his heart beating quickly. The blacks came on, shouting at the top of their voices to keep up their courage and to frighten the lion, but did not discover him. He must now decide what to do, either to return to the camp and wait for another opportunity or to continue his flight. Every day would increase his distance from the coast and the difficulties he must encounter to reach it. The thought occurred to him that he might cross the river and go down on the opposite bank, though he did not fail to remember that crocodiles or hippopotami might be lying concealed in its bed, but he resolved to run the risk rather than again place himself in the power of the Arabs. Not a moment was to be lost. He sprang from his place of concealment and ran towards the bank. Scarcely had he reached it than he heard the men coming back, shouting as before to each other, for they had not ventured to follow the lion far, knowing that their companion must by that time have been dead. He did not therefore hesitate. Slipping into the water, he struck out across the stream. He had got nearly half-way over, when he became aware that the shouts he heard were directed at him. Not daring to look back, he swam on with all his strength, hoping that no one would venture to follow him. On and on he went. Thoughts of crocodiles and hippopotami would intrude, but he trusted that the noise made by the blacks would drive them away. No shots were fired at him. Why this was he could not tell--perhaps he was no longer seen. Then the idea occurred that some one might be pursuing him: still, undaunted, he continued his course. Reeds flanked the opposite bank of the stream; should he be able to force his way through them? If he could, they would afford him concealment. He could distinguish them rising up like a wall before him; he at last reached them, and began to struggle through the barrier. It was hard work, for the water was still too deep to allow him to wade, and the reeds bent down as he clutched them; still, as those he first grasped yielded, he seized others, and hauled himself along. At length his feet touched the bottom, and he was able to make somewhat better progress. He had not time to consider what he should do when he had gained the firm ground. There might be other lions in the way, but he resolved not to be deterred by the fear of encountering them; he dreaded far more falling into the hands of the Arabs. He expected every moment to reach the shore, when one of his feet stuck fast in the mud. He endeavoured to obtain a firmer foothold by pressing down the reeds so that he might stand upon them, but this caused considerable delay, and in his efforts he was nearly falling on his face into the water. At length he succeeded in drawing out his foot, and once more he struggled on. The noise made by the bending reeds had prevented him from hearing a loud rustling at no great distance which now struck his ear. It might be caused by one of the huge inhabitants of the river. Should an hippopotamus have discovered him, he must seek for safety by climbing the nearest tree he could reach. The idea incited him to fresh exertions. He sprang forward, his hand touched the firm ground. He drew himself up the bank, but was so exhausted by his efforts that he had scarcely strength sufficient to run for a tree. As he stood for a few moments endeavouring to recover himself, he fixed on one a short distance off, a branch of which hung down sufficiently low to enable him to swing himself up by it. He took one glance also behind him. The darkness prevented him from seeing the figures of this Arabs on the opposite side, but he could hear their voices still shouting loudly. Having recovered his breath, he once more started off in the direction of the tree. Should he there find that he was not pursued, as he expected, he intended to continue his course along the bank of the river. He reached the tree, and was on the point of grasping the bough when he heard men shouting behind him, and, glancing over his shoulder, he distinguished amid the gloom three dark figures coming on at full speed. He hoped, however, that he might not have been seen, and that, if he could once get into the tree, they might pass by. He made frantic efforts to draw himself up, and had just succeeded when he felt his foot seized by a human hand. He in vain endeavoured to free himself. The gruff voice of a black shouted to him, and he recognised it as that of one of his former guards. The man pulled away at his leg with such force that he was compelled to let go his hold, and would have fallen heavily to the ground had not his other pursuers, who came up, caught him. Once more he found himself a prisoner. His captors, he judged by the way they spoke, were abusing him, though he could not understand what they said. Further resistance was useless, so he resigned himself to his fate. What they were going to do with him he could not tell; whether they would recross the river or remain on the side he had reached. They led him down to the bank, from which a large amount of shouting was exchanged. This finally ceased, and he found himself being led up the stream, as he concluded, towards a ford, or to some spot where a crossing might be more easily effected than at the place where he had swum over. He was right in his conjectures, for after some time torches appeared on the opposite side, and his captors, dragging him along, plunged into the stream, and began to wade across, shouting and shrieking at the top of their voices as they did so, and boating the water with some long sticks to drive away the crocodiles. Several Arabs and blacks with torches received the party as they landed, casting scowling looks at poor Ned, who had abundance of abuse heaped upon him for his futile attempt to escape. On being led back to the camp, however, he was allowed to dry his wet clothes before the fire, which he did by taking some of them off at a time. It was a sore trial to him to be all alone without any human being to whom he could speak. At last the blacks led him back to the very spot from which he had escaped, and he was allowed to cover himself up again with his mat. He saw, however, that one of the men was sitting by his side to keep watch. He was too much exhausted to think over his disappointment, or to fear any evil consequences from remaining so long wet. He soon fell into a deep slumber, from which he was aroused by one of the blacks shaking him by the shoulder, while another brought a bowl of rice and a cup of coffee. On looking round he perceived that the caravan was preparing to march. The pagazis had shouldered their loads, and the Arabs were girding themselves for the journey. Knowing that he would have to accompany them, he got up ready to obey the summons to move. He was surprised to see Mohammed, the leader, approaching him. The Arab chief spoke a few words, laughing heartily, slapped him on the shoulder in a familiar way, and Ned concluded that he was complimenting him on the manner he had attempted his escape. He then lifted his gun as if about to shoot, and put it into his hands, making signs that he was to use it, and Ned surmised that it was intended he should fight for the Arabs. After this Mohammed seemed much more friendly than before, and invited him frequently to march by his side. The river was crossed by the ford, and the caravan proceeded westward. Ned cast many a lingering look behind as he got further and further from the stream by means of which he had hoped to rejoin his friends. He was too strictly watched, however, to have the slightest chance of escaping. The country near the coast had been almost depopulated, and very few villages or habitations of any description were passed. As the caravan advanced more people were met with, and several large villages were seen, to the chiefs of some of which the Arabs paid a sort of tribute in beads and wire, and occasionally cloth, for the sake of retaining their friendship. Shortly afterwards they were joined by another caravan, containing even more men than their own, and together they formed a large party. He was introduced formally to the new-comers, who seemed to look at him with much interest and treat him with respect. Though allowed to wander in the neighbourhood of the camp he found that one of the blacks was always strictly watching him, and that even had he intended to escape he should have no opportunity of so doing. He now observed that the Arabs marched more cautiously than heretofore, that scouts were sent out and returned frequently to report what was going on in front. At last one day the caravan halted earlier than usual, and the pagazis were immediately set to work to cut down young trees, with which stockades were formed round the camp, and every man remained under arms. The Arab leaders, seated on carpets outside their huts, held long consultations, which, though Ned attended them, he was unable to understand a word that was said. He guessed, however, from their gestures and the expression of their countenances, that some were counselling peace and others war--that the advice of the latter prevailed he judged from the excited tones of their voices, while the chief's touched the hilts of their swords, or drew them from their scabbards and flourished them in the air. The opinion he came to from all he heard and saw was that some potentate or other, through whose country they desired to pass, had prohibited their progress, and that they had determined to force their onward way in spite of his opposition. That many of the chiefs had for some time been prepared for this Ned was convinced from the preparations they had made. Leaving a garrison within the camp to guard their goods, the next morning the little army commenced its march, each chief dressed in his gayest attire, attended by a lad carrying his gun, drums beating, colours flying, and musical instruments emitting strange sounds, while the black followers of the Arabs chanted their various war songs in discordant tones. Mohammed had sent for Ned, and by signs made him understand that he was to be his armour-bearer, and to accompany him to battle. Ned was very much inclined to decline the honour. He questioned whether the Arabs had any right to insist on marching through a country claimed by others. Whatever quarrel might exist it was no concern of his. Then came the point, should he refuse, he would be looked upon with contempt and treated as a slave, and would have less chance of escaping; as to the danger, it did not enter into his calculations. "The Arab insists on my accompanying him, and will make me promise to fight, so fight I must," he thought. "I do not see how I can help myself." He therefore nodded and patted the gun handed him, showing that he knew well how to use it. The chiefs marched forward in high spirits, congratulating each other beforehand on the victory they expected to achieve. Ned kept by Mohammed's side, carrying the chief's gun as well as his own, an honour he would gladly have dispensed with. About noon the force halted to dine, and two hours afterwards they came in sight, from the top of slightly elevated ground, of a stockaded enclosure, the interior filled with huts on the side of a gentle slope. The chiefs pointed towards it and addressed their followers, who replied with loud shouts. Ned guessed that it was the place about to be attacked. No other enemies had been seen, and the village did not appear capable of holding out against so formidable a force. The Arabs, expecting to gain an easy victory, advanced in loose order to the attack. While one party rushed at the gate to break it open, the remainder halting fired their muskets, but as the stockades were thick no injury was inflicted on the garrison. Not a missile was shot in return. Emboldened by this they were advancing close up to the stockade, when suddenly a shower of bullets, accompanied by a flight of arrows, came whistling about their heads. Several of the attacking party fell dead, pierced through and through, two or three of the chief Arabs being among them, while others were badly wounded. Mohammed, taking his gun from Ned's hand and shouting his battle cry, rushed forward, firing as he advanced. In the meantime the gate had been opened. Many of the Arabs and a large number of their followers sprang in. No resistance was offered. Others were about to follow when the gate was shut, and directly afterwards the sharp rattle of musketry was heard, mingled with the shouts of the Arabs and the shrieks and cries of the negroes, but not a shot, was fired at those outside. Then there came an ominous silence. Suddenly it was broken by renewed firing, but this time the shots were directed towards the assailants, who were still pressing on to the walls. In vain they attempted to force the gate, numbers were falling; already half their number, with those cut to pieces inside the village, were killed or wounded, and Mohammed, calling his followers round him, retreated, leaving all the dead and many of the worst wounded behind to the mercy of the victors. They hurried on until they were beyond the range of the muskets of the fort, when they halted, and Mohammed asked whether they would renew the attack and revenge the loss of their friends or retreat. The point was settled by the appearance of a band of black warriors armed, some with shields and spears and others with muskets, issuing from the gate. The retreat was continued, and Mohammed had the greatest difficulty in preventing it from becoming a disorganised flight. Bravely he faced about, and setting the example to his men fired his musket at the advancing foe; but the latter, halting when the Arabs stopped, kept out of range, again advancing as soon as they moved on. Ned remained with Mohammed, who shook his head mournfully as if acknowledging his defeat. He had reason to look grave. The distance to the camp was great, they were in an enemy's country, and there was more than one defile to pass through, while the thick woods and tall grass on either side might conceal large bodies of their foes. Again and again the Arab called on his men to keep together, and not to be disheartened, though he himself showed his apprehensions by the expression of his countenance. For a couple of hours the retreating force had marched on, the dark band of savages hovering in their rear, but not venturing near enough to come to blows. Mohammed continued to cast anxious glances on either hand, and retained his musket instead of giving it back to Ned to carry for him. Ned longed to be able to ask him what hope there was of getting back safe to the camp, but when he made signs the chief only gave in return an ominous shake of the head. One of the denies they had to pass through was entered, Mohammed gazed round even more anxiously than before, scanning every rock and bush which might conceal a foe. While their pursuers were still in sight, the narrowest part was gained. The chief had inspired Ned with his own apprehensions, and every moment he expected to be assailed by a shower of arrows and javelins. He breathed more freely when they once more entered the open country. As they advanced they looked behind, hoping that the negroes would not have ventured through the pass, but they were still pursuing. The Arabs dared not halt to rest or take any refreshment, for it was all-important to reach their camp before nightfall. Once there, as it was well stored with provisions, they might wait for reinforcements. A thick wood, however, was before them and another rocky defile. As they approached the wood, Mohammed again showed his anxiety. Several of the men now gave in, the wounded especially suffered greatly, and one by one they dropped, no attempt being made to carry them on. The wood, however, was passed, and next the defile appeared. Their figures cast long shadows on the ground, and the entrance to the gorge looked dark and threatening. The fugitives were too much fatigued to climb the heights to ascertain if any foes lurked among them. "On, on!" was the cry, Mohammed and the other chiefs leading. Ned cast one look behind, and saw that the negroes were pressing forward in their rear at a faster pace than before; the move was ominous. The pass was entered. The men went on at a sharp run, each eager to get through. Not a shout was uttered, the tramp of many feet alone was heard, when suddenly the comparative silence was broken by fierce shrieks and cries, and from all sides came showers of arrows and javelins, while from the heights above their heads rushed down a complete avalanche of rocks and stones. Ned saw Mohammed pierced through by an arrow; all the other chiefs the next instant shared the same fate. There was no hope of escaping by pushing forward, as the path was barred by a band of shrieking savages, while on every side lay the dead or dying, crushed by stones or pierced by arrows and darts. In the rear he could distinguish the few survivors endeavouring to cut their way out by the road they had come, fighting desperately with the band of warriors who had pursued them, but they too were quickly brought to the ground, and not half a dozen of his companions remained standing. He was looking round to see whether any overhanging rock or hollow would afford him shelter, when a stone struck his head and he sank almost senseless to the ground. The next instant the savages in front came rushing on, while others, descending from the heights, leapt into the ravine. He gave himself up for lost. The savages sprang forward, uttering cries more of terror than victory. No one attempted to strike the fallen. Some climbed up the rocks, others rushed at headlong speed through the ravine. The cause was evident, they were being pursued. A rattling fire was opened upon them, the bullets striking either the rocks or the ground close to where Ned lay, he being partly protected, however, by the bodies of the Arab chiefs, none hit him. The savages continued their flight until they joined the party at the western end of the pass. Here they turned about, encouraged by their friends, to meet the fresh body of Arabs. A fierce fight now took place, and the Arabs had cause to repent their imprudence in so hurriedly pushing forward. Several of their leaders fell, and they in their turn retreated. Ned saw them coming, and at the same time he observed that a number of the savages had again climbed the heights and were preparing to assail them as they had Mohammed's party. Fortunately for the Arabs, the Africans had expended most of their missiles. Ned implored the first who passed in their retreat to lift him up and to carry him with them, for he fully expected to be trampled to death should he not be killed by the falling rocks or the arrows of the savages. His cries were unheeded; already the greater number had passed by, when he saw an Arab, evidently a chief, bringing up the rear, and encouraging the men under him by continuing their fire to keep the foe in check. Ned recognised him as the Arab whose life he had saved from the sinking dhow. "Sayd, Sayd!" he shouted, "don't you know me? Do help me out of this." "Yes, yes, I will save you," answered the Arab. There was no time for further words, and stooping down Sayd lifted Ned in his arms and, with the aid of one of his followers, bore him on through the pass, while his men, as before, kept their pursuers at bay. The open country was at length gained. The savages, although they might rightly claim the victory, having suffered severely, showed no inclination to continue the pursuit. Of the whole force, however, which had marched out in the morning with Mohammed not a dozen remained alive, and most of those were badly wounded. Ned was unable to speak to Sayd until the fortified camp was gained. No sooner had they arrived than their ears were deafened by the wailing cries of the women mourning for their husbands and relatives slain, and it was some time before Ned could obtain the rest he so much required after the injury he had received and the fatigues he had gone through. CHAPTER TEN. After resting some time Ned recovered sufficiently to converse with Sayd, who, coming up, seated himself by his side. "I had heard that a young white man had set out with Mohammed-ibn-Nassib, and was acting as his gun-bearer, but little did I expect to find that you were the person spoken of. How came you to be with him? Have you run away from your ship?" he inquired. "No, indeed," answered Ned; and he explained how he had been made prisoner and ill-treated, until Mohammed took him into his service. "And how came you to be here?" asked Ned. "Surely you have not joined company with these men-stealers?" "Men-stealers! O no; my friends and I are on an expedition to purchase elephant tusks from the natives far away in the interior, where they are so plentiful that people make their door-posts of them, and we all expect to become immensely rich." "I hope that you will succeed," said Ned; "but I would rather have heard that you were returning to the coast, that I might accompany you, as I am very desirous of getting back to my ship. Can you, however, assist me?" "You ask what is impossible. If you attempt to go alone, you will be murdered by the robbers through whose territory we have passed. No white men can travel among these savages, unless in considerable numbers well-armed. If we meet with a caravan on its way seaward you may put yourself under its protection; but I should be sorry, now we have met, to part with you, and would advise you to accompany us until we have accomplished our undertaking." "I thank you for the offer; but, if it is possible, I must go back to my ship," said Ned. "But I say that it is impossible," answered Sayd, who evidently did not wish to part with Ned. "Make up your mind to come with us, and you shall receive a portion of my share of the profits of the expedition." Ned again thanked Sayd, adding-- "But I have no goods with which to trade, and I would not deprive you of your gains. My captain will, however, I am sure, repay any one for the expenses of my journey." "But you can do without goods; you have Mohammed's musket, and with it you may shoot some elephants; besides which, it is just possible that we may have to attack some villages if the inhabitants refuse to supply us with tusks or provisions. It is very likely that some will do so, in which case you will have a right to the booty we may obtain." "I thought, friend Sayd, that you were going on a hunting and trading expedition?" "It is the Arabs' way of trading when the negroes are obstinate," answered Sayd, with a laugh. Ned, on hearing this, became somewhat suspicious of the intentions of the Arabs, but he feared he should be unable to help himself. He resolved, however, that should an opportunity offer, to get back to the coast at all risks. The caravan to which Sayd belonged was far larger than that of Mohammed. It was under the command of a magnificent fellow in appearance, Habib-ibn-Abdullah, to whom his followers looked with reverential awe. There were numerous other chiefs, each attended by fifty or more black free men or slaves, some armed with muskets or swords, and the rest with spears and knives, or bows and arrows. Sayd had about fifty of these men under his orders, entrusted to him by his father and other relatives at Zanzibar. The caravan waited in the entrenched camp, expecting every hour to be attacked; but the negro chiefs had gained information of the number of the garrison, and thought it wiser not to make the attempt, intending probably to way-lay the caravan on its march, and cut it off should an opportunity occur. Several days passed by; no enemy appearing, Abdullah, mustering his men, ordered the march to begin. With drums beating, colours flying, and trumpets sounding, they marched out in gallant array, the armed men guarding the pagazis, who carried the bales of cloth, boxes of beads, and coils of wire. Though they looked so formidable, Ned, after the disgraceful defeat suffered by Mohammed, did not feel that confidence which he might otherwise have experienced. To avoid the defiles which had proved so disastrous to their friends, Abdullah took a course to the northward, which, after being pursued for a couple of days, was changed to the westward. Ned looked out anxiously in the hopes of meeting a return caravan; still none appeared, and he was convinced that it would be madness to attempt returning by himself without the means of even paying for his food. Sayd was as kind and attentive as he could desire, generally marching alongside him, when they managed to converse freely together, the young Arab eking out his English by signs. A strict watch was kept night and day for enemies, but none ventured to attack them. Abdullah, however, consented to pay tribute to the various chiefs through whose territory the caravan passed. It consisted of so many yards of cloth, with a string or two of beads or several lengths of wire. Although muskets, powder, and shot were in demand, the Arabs refused to part with them, suspecting that the weapons might be turned against themselves when any difficulty might arise. The country of the more warlike tribes having been passed, the Arabs marched with less caution than before, their hunters being sent out to kill game, which appeared in great abundance--elephants, giraffes, buffalo, wild boars, zebras, and deer of various species, besides guinea-fowl, pelicans, and numerous other birds. Ned had a great inclination to join these hunting parties, but Sayd persuaded him to remain in camp, indeed, on most occasions, he felt too much fatigued to take any unnecessary exercise. An ample supply of meat put the caravan in good spirits, and they marched on, shouting and singing, feeling themselves capable of conquering the world. "We have now a country before us very different to any we have yet traversed," observed Sayd. "The slaves will not sing quite so loudly." They had just arrived at a small stream. Here Abdullah issued the order that every man should fill his water-bottle. "We will carry a gourd apiece in addition, it will be well worth while bearing the extra weight, for before many days are over we shall esteem a few drops of water of as great value as so many pieces of gold," observed Sayd. "See how leaden the sky looks yonder, and how the air seems to dance over the surface of the earth." Some of the chiefs desired to camp where they were, but Abdullah was eager to push on, as they had marched but two hours that morning. A water-hole, he said, would be found before nightfall, or the people might dig and the precious fluid would be discovered beneath the earth. After a short halt, therefore, they recommenced their march. The chiefs, who did not carry even their own muskets, found it easy enough, but the pagazis groaned under their heavy loads as they tramped over the baked ground. Scarcely a tree was to be seen, and such shrubs and plants only as require little water. The sun sinking towards the horizon appeared like a ball of fire, setting the whole western sky ablaze. Not a breath of air fanned the cheeks of the weary men. Ned did not complain, but he felt dreadfully tired, and had to apply so frequently to his gourd that it was nearly empty. "We have not yet got half-way over the desert," observed Sayd. "I advise you, my friend, to husband that precious liquid." "But Abdullah believes that there is a water-hole before us." "His belief will not bring it there!" answered Sayd. "It may by this time be dried up, and we may have many a long mile to march before we reach another." A few minutes after this a line of trees appeared ahead. The blacks raised a shout of joy, supposing that beneath their shade the looked-for water would be discovered. Worn out as many of them were, they hastened their steps until even the carriers broke into a run, and the whole mass rushed eagerly down the bank, but as they reached the bottom a cry of bitter disappointment escaped them; not a drop of liquid was to be seen, only a smooth mass of black mud, with cracks across in all directions, showing that the water had evaporated. Water must be had at every cost, or the whole party might perish. Their numbers, their arms, their courage would not avail them. Those who had before traversed the country immediately set to work with pointed sticks to dig along the bed of what was once a stream, in the hopes of obtaining water, and many dug holes of five and six feet deep, but no water appeared. "Then, men, you must dig deeper," shouted the chiefs as they went about among their people. A little thick liquid bubbled up, the labourers shouted with joy, and several of the more thirsty rushed in, and kneeling down lapped it up, although it was of the consistency of mud. The men again set to work, and at length a sufficient quantity of water came bubbling up to enable their companions to obtain a few mouthfuls. The camp fires were then lit, and the men gathered close round them, for it was a locality where a prowling lion was very likely to pay them a visit. Sayd and Ned had a sufficient amount of water to prevent them suffering. As Ned looked out over the dark plain, he could see objects flitting by. Sayd thought that they were deer, which, fleet of foot, were passing across the desert to some more fertile region. Several times the roars of lions were heard, but none ventured near the camp, being scared by the bright blaze kept up. At an early hour all were again on foot, and eagerly descended into the holes, which now contained rather more water than on the previous evening, but still barely sufficient to quench their thirst. There was none to fill their water-bottles. The Arabs, kneeling on their carpets, joined by the Mohammedans among their followers, offered up their prayers to Allah as the first gleam of the sun rose above the horizon; then the morning meal being hastily taken, the pagazis shouldered their loads and the march commenced. As Sayd had predicted, no songs, no shouts were heard; even the merriest among the blacks were silent. Scarcely a word was uttered as the caravan moved forward, the dull sound of human feet treading the baked earth alone broke the silence. On and on they trudged; the sun, as he rose, got hotter and hotter, striking down with intense force on their heads. Ned marched alongside Sayd. The latter had two favoured followers--young Hassan, partly of Arab birth, who acted as his gun-bearer; and a huge negro, a freed man, Sambroko by name, possessed of prodigious strength and courage. These two had followed their master's example, and supplied themselves with gourds of water, two of which the negro carried slung round his neck. For some hours the caravan proceeded as rapidly as at first. It was hoped that a stream would be found soon after noon, where Abdullah promised to halt to give the men the rest they so much needed; but noon was passed, already the sun was in their eyes, and no stream was seen. To halt now would be to lose precious time. With parched lips and starting eyeballs the men pushed on, and, instead of songs and jokes, cries and groans were heard on every side. Now a weary pagazi sank down, declaring that he could carry his load no longer; now another and another followed his example. In vain the Arab leaders urged them to rise with threats and curses, using the points of their spears. The hapless men staggered on, then dropping their loads attempted to fly. Two were shot dead as a warning to the rest, and their masters distributed their loads among the others who appeared better able to carry them, but, ere long, others sinking down, stretched themselves on the ground and were left to die in the desert. Time would have been lost in attempting to carry them. "Is this the way you Arabs treat your followers?" asked Ned, who felt indignant at the apparent cruelty of the chiefs. "They are but slaves," answered Sayd in a careless tone. "Necessity has no law; let us go forward, or their fate may be ours." "Onwards, onwards!" was the cry. The chiefs shouted to their people to keep together, for already many were straggling behind. They had started, feeling confident that by their numbers all difficulties would be overcome, but had they mustered ten thousand men the same fate by which they were now threatened might have overtaken them. Even young Hassan, generally so joyous and dauntless, began to complain; but Sambroko took him by the arm and helped him along, every now and then applying his water-bottle to his lips. Among the pagazis Ned had observed a young man of pleasing countenance, who had always been amongst the merriest of the merry, though his load was heavier than that of many. He had never complained, but was now staggering along endeavouring to keep up with the rest. Ned, seeing how much he was suffering, offered him a draught from his own water-bottle. "Stop!" cried Sayd. "You will want it for yourself." "I cannot disappoint him," answered Ned, as he poured the water down the lad's throat. The young pagazi's countenance brightened, and he uttered an expression of gratitude as he again attempted to follow his companions. "I should like to carry some of his load," said Ned. "He is younger than the rest, and it is too much for him. Here! let me help you along," he added, making signs of his intention. "You will bring contempt on yourself if you do that," observed Sayd. "No Arab would demean himself by carrying a load." "An Englishman thinks nothing derogatory when necessary," answered Ned, taking the package off the shoulders of the youth, who, while he expressed his gratitude, seemed much astonished at the offer being made. Ned trudged on with it manfully for some minutes, but soon began to feel the weight oppressive. Sambroko observed him, and, taking hold of the load, swung it on his own back and carried it a considerable distance. Then calling to the young pagazi bade him carry it forward. Ned begged Sayd to thank Sambroko, who answered, that though he could no longer bear to see his master's friend thus fatigue himself, the young pagazi must expect no further help from him. "But I must try and help him, for I could not bear to see the poor fellow sink down and die as so many are doing." "There is nothing strange in that," remarked Sambroko. "I once crossed a desert larger than this, and one half our number were left behind; but we got through and returned during the wet season with large cargoes of ivory, and our masters, for I was then a slave, were well content." Sayd translated to Ned what was said. "I wonder the Arabs venture into a country where so many lose their lives," said Ned. "The profits are great," answered Sayd. "Men will dare and do anything for gain; each hopes to be more fortunate than his predecessor." The young slave, greatly rested and refreshed by the water, and even more by the sympathy shown him, marched forward with an almost elastic step. "O young master!" he said, looking at Ned, "my heart feels light. I thought no one cared for poor Chando; but I now know that there are kind men in the world." Sayd explained the meaning of the black's words. "Chando!" repeated Ned. "I have heard that name before. Inquire where he comes from, and how long he has been a slave." Sayd put the questions. "From the village of Kamwawi in Warua," answered the young pagazi without hesitation. "It is far, far away from here. It is so long ago since I was taken that I could not find my way back; but were I once there, I should know it again. The hills around it, the beautiful lake, into which falls many a sparkling stream, rushing down amid rocks and tall trees. Would that we were there now instead of toiling over this arid desert. How delightful it would be to plunge into some cool and sheltered pool where no crocodile or hippopotamus could reach us. What draughts of water we would drink," and the black opened his mouth as if to pour some of the longed-for fluid down it. Sayd imitated the movement of his lips as he translated what was said. "Chando! Chando!" repeated Ned. "Ask him if he had a father or mother living when he was carried off to become a slave." "I had a mother, but whether or not she escaped from the slaves I cannot say. I never saw her again. I once had a father, whom I remember well; he used to carry me in his arms, and give me wild grapes and sweet fruit. He was either killed by a lion or an elephant, or was captured by the slave hunters, who, it was said, had been prowling about in the neighbourhood at that time, though they did not venture to attack our village, which was too strong for them." Ned became very much interested in the account Chando gave of himself. "Inquire whether he can recollect the name of his father." Sayd put the question. "Yes, I remember it perfectly well. It was Baraka." Ned gave a shout of joy, and forgetting his danger and fatigue, and all that was still before him, he rushed forward, and, grasping Chando's hand, exclaimed-- "I know your father; I promised him that I would search for you, and now I have found you. There can be no mistake about it. He told me that his son's name was Chando, and you say your father's name was Baraka, that he disappeared, and has never since come back. I would far rather have found you than made my escape, or returned to the coast the possessor of hundreds of elephants' tusks." Sayd's exclamations of surprise somewhat interrupted Ned's remarks as he translated them to Chando. The latter almost let his load drop in his agitation as he asked, "Is Baraka--is my father still alive? O my young master, can you take me to him? Can you find my mother, that we may be together and be once more happy as we were before he was carried away to become a slave?" "The very thing I wish to do," answered Ned. "I will try to get your master to give you your freedom at once; or, if he will not now do so, as soon as we return to the coast." So deeply interested were Ned and his companions in the discovery he had made, that they forgot for a time their fatigue and their thirst. Even Sambroko and young Hassan listened eagerly. "I know where Kamwawi is!" exclaimed the huge black. "It is to the north-west, but it would take many days to reach. It is a fine country, and the people are brave and warlike; though the slave hunters sometimes go there to trap the natives, they seldom venture to attack the villages." "It is true, it is true!" answered Chando. "I was captured whilst out hunting elephants with some other lads. They all died--I alone lived; and after being sold several times became the slave of Abdullah. It was better than being sent away on board a dhow to be carried to some far off land, where I might have been ill-treated by strangers, and have no chance of meeting with any of my own people." "We must try to reach Kamwawi, and endeavour to ascertain whether Chando's mother is still alive. I promised her husband to bring her back as well as her son if I could find them. It would be a glorious thing to rescue both," exclaimed Ned. "To do that would be impossible," answered Sayd. "Abdullah will not lead the caravan so far away for such an object. Even should we reach the village you speak of, we should be looked upon as enemies, besides which, the woman is by this time dead, or is married to another husband, and she would not wish to quit her home to go to a distant country for the mere chance of finding her husband alive. You must give up the idea, my friend; the undertaking, I repeat, is impossible." Ned made no reply, there was too much truth, he feared, in Sayd's remarks. For some time he tramped on, thinking over the matter. At last he again turned to the Arab-- "Sayd," he exclaimed, "I want you to do me a favour--to obtain Chando's liberty. If you have to purchase his freedom, as I suppose you must, I will promise, when we return to the coast, to repay you the cost, whatever it may be." Sayd smiled at the request. "Abdullah is not the man willingly to dispose of a healthy slave, who will be able to carry a whole tusk on his shoulders back to the coast," he answered. "Perhaps when the journey is over he may be ready to talk over the matter, but he will demand a high price, of that you may be certain." "I will pay him any price he may ask. I am sure I shall find friends ready to help me to advance the money until I can send it to them from England." This answer showed that, although Ned was tramping over the desert in the interior of Africa without a penny in his pocket, or any equivalent in his possession, he had not lost his spirits, and was as sanguine as ever as to getting home some day. As he looked round, however, at the haggard countenances of the Arab leaders and their armed followers, as well as at those of the pagazis, he might with good reason have dreaded that none of them would ever reach the fertile region said to lie beyond the desert. Already many more had fallen, and their track was strewn with the bodies of dead or dying men. The survivors staggered on, well knowing that to stop was certain destruction. The Arabs no longer attempted to drive them forward, or to distribute the loads of those who sank down among the rest. They themselves were too eager to reach a stream where they might quench their thirst and rest their weary limbs. They would then send back to recover the loads, and pick up any of the men who might still be alive. But hour after hour went by, and the hot sun glared in their faces like the flame from a furnace, almost blinding their eyes. Darkness came on, but still they pushed forward. The same cry resounded from all parts of the caravan: "They must march through the night." Should they halt, how many would be alive in the morning? Ned had told Chando to keep close to his side, and had supplied him every now and then with a few drops of water. Had others seen this, Ned would have run the risk of having his bottle taken from him. He would, indeed, have been glad to share the water with his companions, but he knew that, divided among many, it would avail them nothing. Not a word was now exchanged among any of Sayd's party, but they kept compactly together. At length Ned caught sight of some objects rising up ahead. They were tall trees with spreading branches. They would not grow thus unless with nourishment from below. The Arabs and their followers raised a shout, and pressed forward. Every instant they expected to come upon a stream. Several of the trees were passed, and none was seen. At length they reached a bank below which the stars were reflected as in a mirror. "Water! water!" was the cry, and Arabs and soldiers and slaves dashing forward, their strength suddenly revived, plunged their faces into the pool, regardless of the danger they ran. Some, more prudent, drank the water from their hands, or from cups they carried, but several, exhausted, fell with their heads below the surface. Some of these were rescued by their comrades, but many were drowned before they could be drawn out. The leaders now issued the order to encamp, and the pagazis, piling their loads, were compelled to search for wood. On the different bands being mustered by their respective chiefs, nearly half were found missing. Ned set out to search for Chando, and brought him to Sayd's fire to hear more of his adventures, but, though generally talkative, he was scarcely able to utter a word. Directly the scanty meal had been consumed, the weary blacks as well as their masters were asleep. A few hours only were allowed them to rest, when, their strength being somewhat recovered, a large party with water-bottles were sent along the way they had come to the relief of any who might have survived, and to bring in their loads. A few lives were thus saved, and much of the property dropped was recovered. Sayd had lost several of his men, but he took the matter very coolly, observing "that it was the will of Allah, and could not be avoided." Heavy as the loss of life had been, the Arabs were still sufficiently numerous to march forward to the rich country where they expected to obtain all their hearts desired. A halt, however, of several days was absolutely necessary to recruit their strength. As Sayd was less fatigued than any of the other chiefs, he undertook to go out hunting in order to obtain food, which was greatly required. Ned offered to accompany him. He took Sambroko, Hassan, and three more of his own followers, and having permission to select any experienced hunters from among the rest of the men, recollecting what Chando had said, he fixed among others on him. All were well-armed with muskets, or bows and arrows and spears, and with darts or long knives. Chando, being the most experienced elephant hunter, was sent ahead to look out for game. The nature of the forest caused the party to become somewhat separated. Ned kept as close as he could to Sayd. Some time had elapsed, when Ned heard a loud trumpeting coming from the forest in front of them. "That's an elephant," shouted Sayd, who was some distance off. "Move carefully forward, and when the creature appears fire steadily, and then spring on one side, but beware lest he sees you, or he may make a rush at you." Ned resolved to follow this advice. Again they advanced. Ned saw Sayd enter an open glade. He had got but a few yards along it, when a crashing sound from the opposite side was heard, followed by a loud trumpeting. With trunk erect and open mouth a huge elephant dashed out of the cover, catching sight as he came into the open of the Arab. Ned had his gun ready, and, as the animal drew near, steadying his weapon against the trunk of a tree, he fired. The bullet struck the creature, but still it advanced, trumpeting loudly, its rage increased, with its keen eyes fixed on Sayd. The Arab saw it coming, and knowing that, if its progress was not stopped, his destruction was certain, fired at its head, and then, his courage giving way, turned round to fly. Ned gave up his friend for lost. The huge brute would break through all impediments to reach his victim. Just then Ned saw a black form emerging from the wood and springing over the ground at a rate surpassing that of the elephant, against whose thick frontal bone Sayd's bullet had been ineffective. With trunk uplifted the animal had got within ten paces of the Arab, when the black overtook it, a sharp sword in his hand; the weapon flashed for an instant, and descended on the elephant's left hinder leg; then springing on one side the black inflicted another tremendous gash on the right. The monster staggered on, and was about to seize the Arab with its trunk, when, uttering a shriek of pain and baffled rage, down it came with a crash to the earth. Sayd, stopping in his flight, turned and saw that his deliverer was the pagazi Chando, while Ned at the same moment springing forward congratulated him on his escape. Chando, without speaking, plunged his sword in the neck of the elephant. The rest of the party on hearing the firing made their way up to the spot, and complimented Chando on his achievement. "I am grateful, and must see how I can reward you," said Sayd to the young pagazi. As meat was much wanted at the camp, the party immediately commenced cutting up the elephant, while messengers were despatched to summon carriers to convey the flesh and tusks. As soon as it was sent off the hunters continued the chase. Ned shot a zebra, which raised him in the estimation of his companions. A giraffe was also seen, and creeping up to it among the long grass the party surrounded it. Before it could escape a bullet from Sayd's gun wounded it in the shoulder, when spears and javelins thrust at it from every side soon ended its life. There was great rejoicing when this meat was brought into camp, and the Arabs and their followers feasting luxuriously forgot their toils and sufferings. CHAPTER ELEVEN. Again the caravan was on the move. For many days they marched on with varied fortunes, sometimes meeting a friendly reception at the villages they passed, but more frequently being refused admittance, and having to purchase provisions at a high cost, or to pay tribute to the petty chiefs, many of whom, possessing fire-arms, were too formidable to offend. Abdullah declared that they had had enough of fighting, and could not afford to lose more men in unnecessary battles. Hitherto but a small quantity of ivory had been procured, the villagers having disposed of all they possessed to other traders. At this the chiefs were evidently greatly disappointed, and frequent consultations were held among them. Sayd did not tell Ned the result, but he seemed dissatisfied, and more than once expressed a wish that he had not undertaken the expedition. "But then you would not have found me, and I should not have discovered Chando, so that I am very thankful you came," answered Ned. Some days after this he observed that they advanced with even more caution than before. Scouts were sent out, who from time to time brought back the intelligence they had obtained. At length one evening the caravan halted on the confines of a wood through which they had passed. As Ned looked ahead he could distinguish, as the sun set, a large scattered village below them, surrounded by fields and fruit-bearing trees, situated on the borders of a shining lake, a picturesque circle of hills beyond. It was a smiling scene, and spoke of abundance and contentment. Sayd appeared more unhappy than before. Ned again asked him what was about to be done. "You will see before the night is over," he replied. "My companions have departed from the original intention of our expedition, and I feel much disposed to separate from them, but yet if I do I shall gain no profits, and my friends will have cause to complain." "Is Abdullah going to trade with the inhabitants of yonder village?" asked Ned. "No," answered Sayd; "he and the other leaders have devised a plan for acquiring not only all the wealth it contains, but at the same time bearers to convey it to the coast. We have already lost so many pagazis that we shall be unable to transport more than a small portion of what we may purchase." "Do they, then, intend to attack the village and make slaves of the unfortunate people?" asked Ned. "It is that they propose to do. It is bad, very bad," answered Sayd. "Then let me urge you to take no part in the proceeding," said Ned. "If you cannot prevent them from committing the crime they contemplate, separate yourself at once from the caravan, take a different route, and endeavour to obtain the friendship of the natives. I have heard that they look with respect on Englishmen, who always treat them justly. I may, therefore, be of some use to you, as, when they see an Englishman, they will know that we wish to be at peace, and desire to deal fairly with them." "You are right," observed the Arab; "I will order my people to be prepared for marching in the direction I may determine on." Ned was satisfied as far as Sayd was concerned. He desired also, however, if possible, to prevent Abdullah from carrying out his infamous project, but how to do so was the question. An attempt to warn the villagers of Abdullah's designs would be very difficult. He could not speak to the Arab leader himself, and Sayd declared that he had already said all he could to dissuade him. He had, therefore, to wait the course of events. The caravan remained concealed in the wood, watching the village, until all the lights were extinguished and it was supposed that the inhabitants had gone to rest. In perfect silence the Arabs marshalled their forces, several of the pagazis being also armed, while the remainder, with a small guard over them, were left in the wood with the goods and provisions. Sayd, on seeing this, true to his word, drew off his own men, greatly to the anger of Abdullah and the other chiefs. Ned accompanied him, but Chando was obliged to remain in the camp. It was better than being employed in attacking the villagers. Ned was much concerned at having to separate from him. Again he implored Sayd to try by some means or other to obtain Chando's liberty; he received the same answer, "It is impossible." "Tell him then from me that he must try and join us. He would be perfectly justified in running away if he has the opportunity, and that may occur." Sayd did as Ned begged him, and then drawing off his men formed a separate camp at a distance from that of Abdullah. In the meantime the main body of the Arabs, with their armed followers, were creeping down towards the village, keeping concealed among the rocks and shrubs so that they might not be discovered until they were close up to it. Some time elapsed, when the stillness of night was broken by the rattle of musketry, followed by the shrieks and cries of the Arabs. The flashes appeared on all sides except that of the lake, showing that the Arabs had almost surrounded the place. Ned could only picture in imagination the cruel deed taking place below him. Presently flames burst forth, now from one part of the village, now from another, until in a short time the whole was in a blaze, while by the ruddy light he could see the dark figures of the inhabitants endeavouring to escape by flight, pursued by their relentless invaders. Still the firing continued, showing that the work of death was going on. At length it ceased. After some time a large mass of people could be seen by the light of the flames, while the Arabs were distinguished rushing here and there, lance in hand, driving their frightened prisoners before them. The cruel act had been accomplished; upwards of a hundred of the villagers had been captured, and the Arabs, exulting in their victory, returned to their camp. Ned accompanied Sayd, who desired to have a parting interview with Abdullah. As they approached the camp they saw the prisoners, men, women, and children, sitting on the ground, the armed guards standing round them, while the remainder of the Arabs' followers were employed in forming forked poles to place on the necks of the refractory, and in preparing the ropes by which the others were to be bound together. The meeting between Sayd and his former leader was more stormy than might have been supposed, the latter abusing him in no measured terms for his desertion, and threatened his destruction and that of his followers should he try to proceed through the country. To attempt to obtain Chando's liberty under these circumstances would have been useless. Sayd and Ned therefore returned to their own camp. Ned did his utmost to keep up Sayd's spirits, pointing out to him that he had acted rightly and would have no cause to repent his decision, though he himself was bitterly disappointed at having to leave Chando, whom he had hoped some day to restore to his father. "In what direction do you propose to proceed?" he inquired of Sayd. Having consulted Sambroko: "I intend to march northward and then to turn to the east. He tells me that we pass near many villages inhabited by elephant hunters, who are sure to have a good supply of ivory; and as the Arabs have not gone through that part of the country for a long time, we shall obtain it at a moderate price, besides which, the people are likely to prove friendly." At daybreak Sayd's small caravan commenced its march, Sambroko uttering a farewell shout to their fate companions, who replied by derisive cries. "They may shriek as they like," he observed, "but they will before long change their tone. They will either have to recross the desert, or will have to go a long way round to avoid it, when they will find enemies in all directions through whom they will have to fight their way." Ned would have rejoiced at getting free of Abdullah had Chando been with him, though he did not despair of recovering the young slave on his return to Zanzibar. Still he knew that many circumstances might prevent this. Chando might succumb to the fatigues of the journey, as many others had done, or might be killed should the caravan be attacked by hostile natives, or Abdullah might ship him off with other slaves on board a dhow, should they reach the coast. All Ned could do, therefore, was to hope that none of these events would occur. There was but little time for thought. Sayd was anxious, by forced marches, to get away from the neighbourhood of the village which had been so treacherously treated, lest the inhabitants of other villages-- supposing that he and his followers had been engaged in the proceeding-- should attack them and revenge themselves on his head. They marched on therefore all day, with only a short halt to take some food, water being abundant and the tall trees protecting them from the hot sun. At night they encamped under a gigantic sycamore, the boughs of which would have shaded twice their number from the rays of the sun. Near it was a stream from which fresh water could be procured, and Sayd would gladly have halted here some days had not Sambroko advised that they should push on. At daybreak they were again on the march. They had, however, to supply themselves with food, but so plentiful was the game that the hunters had not to go far out of their way to obtain it. Sambroko, who was their chief hunter, succeeded in killing a zebra, which afforded meat to the whole party, and the next day, whilst stalking at the head of the party, he brought down a magnificent giraffe, which he managed to surprise before the animal had taken alarm. It was of the greatest importance to reach a village, which Sambroko said must be passed before the news of the Arab raid could get there, and at length it came in sight, standing on a knoll surrounded by palisades, above which the roofs of the houses could be seen. As they approached, Sambroko set up a cheerful song announcing that friends were drawing near and desired peace. The result was anxiously watched for. Should the gates remain closed, the caravan would have to pass by as far as possible from the village with the prospect of being attacked in the rear. Greatly to their satisfaction, however, Sambroko's song produced a favourable effect, and the villagers came out shouting a welcome. Sayd thought it wise, however, not to enter, but gave notice that he had brought goods with which to purchase ivory and provisions. An active barter was soon going forward. Eight tusks were procured and an ample supply of provisions. Sayd also obtained information from the natives that several villages were situated in the direction he wished to go, the inhabitants of which were likely to prove hostile. They offered to furnish guides who would conduct his party through the jungle to a distance from them. This offer he gladly accepted, confident that no treachery was intended. After a short rest the caravan again moved forward. The carriers marched in single file, the path not allowing two to walk abreast. Sayd and Ned, accompanied by Hassan, led, Sambroko bringing up the rear, the other armed men being equally distributed in the line, while the two guides kept ahead. The party were soon buried in the depths of the forest. Perfect silence was preserved. Now they emerged into a more open country and pushed forward with rapid steps. As darkness was coming on, there was little risk of being seen from a distance. Led by their guides they continued through the early part of the night until another forest was reached, where they lay down to rest, no fires being lighted, no sounds being uttered. The guards kept a strict watch lest a lion might spring out on the slumbering party. Before dawn they were again on foot and moving forward as on the previous evening. For three days they thus advanced, until the guides assured them that they might continue to the eastward without fear of molestation until they reached the village of Kamwawi. "You must be cautious how you approach it," they observed; "the people are brave and warlike, and if they think you come as enemies they will be sore to attack you, but if they consider you are friends they will treat you with kindness and hospitality." "Kamwawi!" exclaimed Ned, when he heard the name; "that surely is the village to which Chando told us he belonged?" "Yes, but there are others with similar names, so that we can never be certain," answered Sayd. "I find that the one spoken of is four days' journey from hence, and as we must camp to procure food it may be longer than that before we reach it." The provisions held out another day after they had parted from their friendly guides, and they had now only their own judgment to depend upon. Once more they were encamped. No human habitations were visible, no signs of cultivation. The country around appeared to be deserted. They would have, however, in consequence a better chance of meeting with game, and Sambroko promised that he would bring enough food to feed the whole party for several days. Ned offered to accompany him, but Sayd was too tired after his morning march to leave the camp. Hassan and another freed man followed, carrying spare guns. It was difficult to say beforehand what game might be met with, whether elephants, or buffaloes, or giraffes, or zebras, or deer, but the hunters were prepared for any one of them. Sambroko declared that all game were alike to him, that he knew their ways and habits. Ned, however, was the first to shoot a deer, which they came upon suddenly before the animal had time to fly. While the blacks were employed in cutting it up, Ned walked on ahead in the hopes of finding some large game. Feeling confident that he might easily make his way back to the camp again he crept cautiously on, looking to the right hand and to the left, and endeavouring to peer over the bushes in front. At length he saw some dark objects moving up and down above the tops of the branches directly in front of him. He crept on and on; getting a little closer he saw that they were elephant's ears. Ambitious of shooting the true monarch of the wilds, Ned, regardless of the danger he was running, crept on, hoping to plant a bullet in a vital part of the animal before he was discovered. He had got within twenty yards of the huge creature, when he stepped on a rotten branch, which broke beneath his foot. The noise warned the elephant that an enemy was near. Up went its trunk. It began breaking through the intervening brushwood. Ned, retaining his presence of mind, stood watching until he could get a fair shot, intending then to follow the advice which Sayd had before given. The head and shoulders of the animal came in sight. Now was the moment to fire; he pulled the trigger. Without waiting even to see the effect of his shot, for had he remained where he was he would the next instant, should it have failed to take effect, have been crushed to death, springing on one side he ran for shelter behind a tree which he had just before noted. The elephant, with trunk uplifted, broke through the brushwood, trumpeting loudly in its rage. Looking about and not seeing its enemy it stopped short. Ned in the meantime reloaded as fast as he could, and stepped out to fire again. The quick eye of the elephant detected him. To fly was now impossible; he must bring down the creature, or run a fearful risk of being caught. He fired, when the elephant rushed towards him with extended trunk. Ned saw that the branch of a tree hung just within reach above his head. By a desperate effort, which under other circumstances he could scarcely have made, he swung himself up on to the bough, and ran, as a sailor alone can run, along it until he reached the stem, up which he began to climb with the rapidity of a squirrel. The elephant had, however, seen him; even now he was scarcely beyond the reach of its trunk, which, looking down, he saw extended towards his feet. In vain he tried to spring up to the nearest branch. He felt the end of the creature's trunk touching his legs; should they once be encircled he would be drawn hopelessly down. He involuntarily uttered a loud shriek, and endeavoured to draw up his feet. It was answered by a shout from Sambroko and the other blacks; at the same instant he heard a shot. The elephant's trunk was no longer touching him, but the exertion he had made was beyond his strength; his hands relaxed their hold, he felt himself falling. Consciousness, however, did not desert him. He expected in another instant to be crushed to death by the creature's feet, or to be dashed by its trunk against a tree. He fell heavily to the ground. All he could see for a moment was a dark form above him. He made a desperate effort to struggle out of its way, but his limbs refused to aid him. He closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. But the death he expected did not come. A shout sounded on his ear. Looking up he saw the black stooping over him, while a few paces off, lay the elephant which Sambroko's shot had brought to the ground. "Well done, young master, well done!" cried the black. "You are not much hurt. We will carry you to the camp, and send the people to bring in the meat and tusks. We shall have fine feasting, and all will be grateful to you for having supplied us with meat." Such was what Ned understood the black to say. He was very thankful to find himself placed on a litter, composed of a couple of poles and some cross pieces cut down from the neighbouring trees, when his bearers immediately set off towards the camp. The men, on hearing of their success, uttered shouts of joy, while half their number set off to bring in the tusks and elephant meat and venison. Sayd attended to Ned's hurts. One of his ankles was severely injured by his fall, and his shoulder was also sprained. It was evident that he would be unable to march for several days. "You must remain here until you have recovered your strength," said Sayd. "The people will be in no hurry to move while they have such an abundance of meat. If you cannot walk after a few days, they must carry you, and they will be ready to do so, as they owe their feasting to you. Sambroko tells me that one, if not both, of your shots mortally wounded the elephant, though it was his which saved your life, for had he not fired the moment he did you would probably have been destroyed by the beast." "I am very thankful to him, at all events," said Ned; "but I am very sorry to detain you when it is so important to push forward." "Allah wills it, we must not repine," answered Sayd; "and as we have to remain, we must lose no time in fortifying our camp to protect ourselves against wild beasts as well as human foes." In accordance with this intention he ordered his men to cut down stakes and to collect a large quantity of prickly pear-bushes which grew in the neighbourhood. A square fence was then formed with stakes, the interstices being filled up by masses of bushes, making it perfectly impervious, so that even elephants would hesitate before attempting to break through it. Within the circle rude huts were built for the accommodation of the garrison, one of which, of rather better construction, was devoted to Ned's use. He had hardly taken possession of it when he felt a painful sensation come over him, and he was conscious that he was attacked by fever. Fearful fancies filled his brain, hideous forms were constantly flitting before him, while during his lucid moments he endured the greatest depression of spirits. He gave up all hope of ever again seeing those he loved or his native land. Hour after hour he lay racked with pain. Sayd sat up by his side, continuing to assert that he would recover. Still not only hours but days and weeks went by, and he heard Sayd acknowledge to Sambroko that he feared the young master would die after all. The very next day, however, Ned felt himself better, though too weak to walk. Sayd had hitherto borne the delay patiently, but he now again became anxious to proceed. Sambroko, though at first successful, had of late shot but a small quantity of game. At length Sayd ordered a litter to be formed, and directed four of the pagazis to carry Ned, giving their packs to others, who grumbled greatly at the increased weight of their loads. Sambroko having fortunately killed an eland, the people were restored to good-humour, and consented the next morning to commence the march. Again the little caravan moved on, and as the men had been well fed they made good progress. About an hour before sunset they once more prepared to camp, a spot near a thick wood having been selected, with a stream flowing at no great distance. Ned had been placed on the ground, and the people were scattered about collecting branches for huts and fuel for their fires, when suddenly loud cries burst from the forest, and a band of fierce-looking savages, armed with spears and javelins, burst out from among the trees. The men had left their arms in the centre of the spot chosen for their camp; near them lay Ned on his litter, with Sayd seated by his side. The young Arab immediately rose, and lifting his rifle, pointed it at the foremost of the savages. A fight appeared imminent. Should Sayd or Sambroko fire, the next instant the blacks would be upon them, and the rest of the party, having only their axes or knives, could offer but a feeble resistance. The intruders held their ground in spite of the warning shouts of Sayd and Sambroko. Ned, unwilling to die without attempting to strike a blow, was crawling towards the arms to possess himself of a musket, when one of the savages raised his spear to dart at him. At that instant a shout was heard proceeding from the forest, out of which Ned saw a person rushing without weapons in his hands. The black who was about to hurl the spear hesitated, and the next instant Ned recognised Chando, who, coming forward, turned round and addressed his countrymen, for they were of his tribe, signing also to Sayd and Sambroko to lower their weapons. The savages, who just before appeared bent on the destruction of the travellers, now advanced, uttering expressions of good-will and welcome. Seeing peace established, Chando knelt down by Ned's side, pouring out expressions of joy at having found him, and inquiring anxiously the cause of his being unable to walk. Sayd replied, and then eagerly asked how he himself happened to arrive at so fortunate a moment. As Sayd listened to the account Chando was giving him his countenance expressed deep concern. "What has happened?" asked Ned, when the black at length ceased. "What I am not surprised to hear," answered Sayd. "Abdullah had proceeded but three days' journey with his newly-captured slaves, and some sixty tusks or more which he had obtained, when a large force of negroes, who were lying in ambush, burst out on the caravan. The Arabs and some of their followers fought bravely, and, with a portion of their slaves and pagazis, escaped to a height where their enemies dared not follow them; but the remainder of the carriers threw down their loads and tried to escape through the forest. Some were killed, but Chando, with a few others, got free, and came on in this direction, till they fell in with a hunting-party of his own tribe, from whom he learned that an attack was to be made on a small caravan, which he at once conjectured was ours. Hastening on, he arrived just in time to prevent a fight, which would probably have ended in our destruction." Chando nodded his head and smiled as Sayd was speaking. He appeared to have another matter, to speak about which he evidently considered of the greatest importance. He at once communicated it to Sayd. "What does he say?" asked Ned. "That his mother is alive and one of the most important people in Kamwawi. That her brother is the chief, which is a fortunate circumstance, as he undertakes that we shall be received in a friendly way and escorted by his people as far as the influence of their tribe extends." The two parties encamped together, the hunters bringing in an ample supply of venison and elephant flesh. The next morning they proceeded towards Kamwawi. Ned had now no longer any difficulty in obtaining pagazis, each of Chando's friends wishing to have the honour of carrying him. In two days they reached Kamwawi. Messengers having gone ahead to announce their coming, the gates were thrown open, and the villagers streamed forth to welcome them, headed by their chief; near him walked a woman, superior in appearance to the other females of the party. No sooner did Chando see her than he rushed forward and threw himself at her feet. She lifted him up, embraced him, bursting into tears. She was his mother--Masika. At length, when released from her arms, the chief welcomed him in almost as affectionate a manner. The whole party were then received in the usual native fashion, and Sayd, without hesitation, accepted the chief's invitation to remain at the village as long as he might desire. Great was Masika's astonishment at hearing that her husband was alive, though she hesitated about accepting Ned's offer to take her and Chando to England. She bestowed, however, every care on her white guest, and contributed much by her skill to restore him to health. Whenever she and her son could get Sayd to interpret for them, they would come and sit by Ned's couch, listening eagerly to the accounts he gave them of Baraka, as well as to the adventures he himself had met with. "Wonderful, wonderful!" exclaimed Masika. "Chando says he must accompany the young master, and I will go also. I will find my husband and bring him back; he will be a great man here. He has become so wise, so good!" Masika at last made up her mind to undertake the expedition, and occupied herself in making such preparations as she considered necessary. It was some time, however, before Ned recovered the use of his feet, and could walk about without pain. The fever, too, had left him very weak. He was thankful for the rest he obtained. Sayd now became anxious to proceed, though his followers were in no hurry to leave their present quarters. He had purchased a large number of tusks from the villagers, and had engaged a dozen of them to assist in conveying his property to the coast. He had, indeed, by honest commerce made a far more profitable expedition than, in all probability, had Abdullah, even though he should succeed in reaching the coast with his captured slaves. During the stay of the caravan at Kamwawi, Chando and a number of people, excited by the prospect of selling their ivory at a good price, several times went out hunting and succeeded in bringing in six elephant tusks, and four from the jaws of hippopotami, which they had slain. After a stay of several weeks, the caravan, considerably increased in size, marched forth from the gates of the village with colours flying, drums beating, horns sounding, and people shouting their farewells and good wishes. Ned felt in better spirits than he had done for a long time, as he was once more able to march alongside Sayd, Chando, who was now not only a freed man, but was looked upon as a person of considerable consequence, being generally in their company. Masika, carried in a sort of litter by four bearers, followed close behind them. They had a long journey before them, and many dangers and difficulties to encounter. Sayd confessed to Ned that his stock of ammunition had run very low, and that should they encounter an enemy they might be unable to defend themselves. They hoped, however, to find the natives friendly, and that they should march forward without interruption. He had still retained a sufficient amount of goods to purchase provisions and to pay the usual tribute to the chiefs through whose territory they would have to pass. Sayd issued strict orders to his people to expend none of their powder and shot unless in a case of absolute necessity. Day after day they marched on, sometimes being received as friends, at others finding the gates of the villages closed against them, especially when they reached the districts through which the Arab caravans had passed. Still, they were two hundred miles or more from the coast. Fifteen miles was the very utmost length they could perform in one day's journey, and generally they did not get through more than ten miles. Thus, with the necessary halts for hunting or purchasing provisions, and the detention they might meet with from chiefs, it would still take them three weeks before they could reach the coast. Three weeks, after so many months spent in the interior, seemed nothing to Ned, and he would not allow himself to think of the many other delays which might occur. They had rivers to ford, swamps to cross, dense forests to penetrate, and occasionally a desert region to get over, on which occasions, in spite of the heat of the sun beating down on their heads, they pushed forward as fast as they could move. Once they ran short of provisions, but a successful hunt the following day restored the spirits of the party. When game could not be procured they obtained supplies of honey from the wild bees in the forests, as well as fruits of various descriptions, including an abundance of grapes from the vines, which grew in unrestrained luxuriance along the borders of the forest, forming graceful festoons on the projecting branches of the trees. From the character they had received of the natives they had reason to expect an unfriendly reception from the inhabitants. They did their best to avoid these villages; or, when compelled to pass near, Sayd, without hesitation, paid the "honga," or tribute demanded. The people, however, generally treated them in a friendly way on observing that they had no slaves, no chains, or men with forked sticks to their necks, and Sayd explained that their mission was peaceable, their object being to carry on a fair trade. There appeared, indeed, every prospect of a satisfactory termination of their journey. They had encamped earlier than usual one day in order to allow Sambroko, Chando, and the other hunters to go out in search of game. In the meantime huts were built, wood collected, and fires were lighted to be ready for cooking it. They were expecting the return of the hunters, when Sambroko and Chando were seen rushing at headlong speed towards the camp, where they arrived almost breathless, exclaiming-- "To arms! to arms! The enemy are upon us. No time to lose; before many minutes they will be here. We saw them coming in this direction." Sayd, on further questioning the two hunters, was convinced that their report was true. To encounter a horde of savages on the open ground on which they were encamped would be dangerous; but near at hand was a knoll with trees on its summit, which Ned had observed. He advised Sayd to retreat to this spot, as they might there, should they be attacked, defend themselves with greater hope of success. The pagazis shouldering their loads, the cooks snatching up their pots and pans, and the armed men their runs, the caravan beat a hurried retreat and quickly ascended to the top of the knoll. Ned, on surveying it, advised that a breastwork should be thrown up with such trees and bushes as could be quickly cut down, and which would enable them to defend themselves against any enemies destitute of fire-arms. Every man, therefore, capable of using an axe was set to work, and several tall trees being brought down were piled one above another on the most accessible side of the knoll. Where the ground was soft stakes were driven in, and in other places thick branches were heaped up, so that in a short time a breastwork was formed calculated greatly to strengthen their position. The people were still labouring at it, when from out of the forest to the north issued a band of warriors with long spears in their right hands and shields on their arms, their heads bedecked with zebra manes, above which waved plumes of ostrich or eagle feathers, while their robes of skin, as they rushed on, streamed behind them. Rings were round their legs, to which bells were suspended as they ran. On either side of the main body were skirmishers. They shouted and shrieked vehemently, and flourished their weapons as if to inspire terror in the hearts of those they were about to attack. On they came, fresh bodies appearing until they might have been counted by hundreds. Ned watched them with no small anxiety. If determined to conquer at the sacrifice of life, they could not fail to succeed; but he had seen enough of black warriors to know that when met with determination they were not likely to persevere. Sayd seemed to be of the same opinion. He spoke to his people, and urged them to fight to the last. Masika also addressed her followers, reminding them of their character for courage, and urging them to fight bravely in defence of their white friends, and of her and her son. The men responded with loud cheers, which were heard by their advancing foes. It had the effect of making the latter halt just as they came within gun-shot, when the chiefs, who were known by their tall plumes and the leopard skins round their waists, were seen speaking to their followers, apparently urging them to the attack. "Would that we had the means of letting them understand that we have no wish to injure them, and desire only peaceably to pass through their country," observed Sayd. "Haven't we got something to serve as a flag of truce?" asked Ned. "A piece of white calico at the end of a spear would answer the purpose." "They would not understand it," answered the Arab. "I should like to try," said Ned. "You would probably be speared as soon as you approached." Scarcely had he spoken when once more, with loud shrieks and cries, the warriors came on. "Fire, my brave men!" cried Sayd, and every gun was discharged, Sambroko picking out one of the chiefs, who fell wounded, as did several more, though none were killed. Still other chiefs led the way; undaunted they advanced in spite of another volley, the defenders of the knoll loading and discharging their muskets as fast as they could. In vain Ned set them the example, and Sayd urged them to take better aim. Except Sambroko and a few of the more disciplined men, they fired at random. Their assailants had almost reached the foot of the knoll when some of Sayd's men cried out that their ammunition was expended and asked for more. In vain Hassan was sent to look for it. Package after package was turned over, but none was to be found. Three or four rounds at the utmost remained in the pouches of any of the party; when they were expended there would be nothing but the breastwork to stop the progress of their foes. Sayd entreated those who had cartridges not to throw a shot away. On the enemy pressed; they had begun to climb the side of the knoll, hurling their javelins at its defenders. Sayd, in spite of the desperate state of affairs, exhibited the coolest courage, his fire checking several times the advance of the foe; but he and Ned had both discharged their last round. The chief leading the way had almost gained the breastwork, when Sambroko, leaping over it, dealt him a blow on the head with his clubbed musket, which sent him falling back among his followers. Others, however, were rushing on to avenge his death. In another instant they would have been up to the breastwork, when a loud shout was heard and a body of men, bearing an English ensign in their midst, was seen emerging from the wood to the south-east. As they advanced a British cheer was heard, which was replied to by Ned, and echoed, though in a somewhat strange fashion, by his companions, who, picking up the javelins aimed at them, hurled them back on their foes. The latter seeing a fresh body approaching to the assistance of those they were attacking, and dismayed by the fall of their chief, retreated hastily down the knoll, and on reaching level ground took to flight to avoid a volley fired at them by the new-comers. On came the British party. Ned, with his heart leaping into his mouth, rushed down the hill to meet them. In another instant his hand was being grasped by Lieutenant Hanson and his old messmate Charley Meadows, while Tom Baraka, springing forward, clasped him in his arms, exclaiming-- "O Massa Ned, we find you at last! I always said dat you 'live. Hurrah! hurrah! Now him tink him die happy." "Don't talk about dying," said Ned, "for I have found some one else whom you will rejoice to see, and I will tell you all about it presently; but I want to know first about my uncle and Aunt Sally and Mary?" "Dey all well, an' de lieutenant he off dis berry coast in fine schooner which bring us here." Lieutenant Hanson and Charley then explained more fully what had occurred. How they had come out in the "Hope," and how they had heard from an Arab, one of the few belonging to Abdullah's caravan who had escaped, that a young Englishman answering Ned's description was up the country, and was very unlikely ever to find his way down to the coast. They had accordingly hired the most trustworthy men they could obtain, and set off without delay to his rescue. "And very thankful we are to find you," exclaimed Mr Hanson. "You could not have arrived more opportunely, for never since I have been in Africa have I been in so great a danger of losing my life; and now I want to break the news I have to communicate to my faithful friend Tom Baraka," said Ned. In the meantime Chando, prompted by curiosity to look at the white men, had descended the hill. Ned seeing him, took his hand and led him up to Baraka. "Tom," he said, "I promised to find your son if I could. What do you think of this young man? Are you ready to acknowledge him as your little boy Chando?" Tom gazed into Chando's face for a few seconds, then grasping his hands, he rapidly uttered a few words which Ned could not understand. The young black replied, and the next instant they were clasped in an affectionate embrace. Tom's paternal feelings assured him that he had found his long-lost boy, but a still greater surprise was in store for him. In another minute he and Chando were rushing up the hill together. Ned and his friends followed, and were just in time to see the meeting between Tom and his wife. Though so many years had passed away since he had parted from her, he appeared to know her immediately, and if he exhibited his feelings in a more exuberant manner than a white man might have done, they were not the less affectionate and genuine. Ned introduced Sayd, expressing his gratitude for the protection he had received. Mr Hanson and Charley at once recognised him as the young Arab who had been saved from the sinking dhow. It was necessary now to arrange what was to be done next. The two parties agreed to camp together on the knoll, and resolved to proceed to the coast by the route Mr Hanson and his people had followed, thus avoiding the savage warriors who had just been defeated, and who would undoubtedly seek for an opportunity of revenging themselves. An important point, however, had to be settled. Would Tom return with his son to Kamwawi, or would they accompany the English back to the coast? "Me lub him wife, him son too; but him lub Massa Pack, an' Baraka's heart break if he not say good-bye. And Missie Sally an' Missie Mary! Oh! what shall him do, what shall him do?" Tom had some difficulty, it appeared, in persuading his wife and Chando to proceed to the coast, but the descriptions he gave of the wonders they would see overcame their objections. Still, Chando expressed the not unreasonable fear that he might be seized by Abdullah and carried off again into slavery, and very nearly turned the scale the other way. Mr Hanson, however, through Sayd, promised him protection, and his mother's fears on that score were quieted. The two parties now united forming a strong body, marched through the country without opposition, except from the natural difficulties which presented themselves. The "Hope" was found at anchor in the harbour, where Lieutenant Pack had promised to wait for the expedition, having returned there the previous day. His joy at recovering his nephew may be supposed. Sayd, who had expected to be obliged to carry his ivory to Zanzibar, was delighted to find that Mr Pack was ready to purchase the whole of it at a far higher price than he could have expected to have obtained at that market. Leaving his people encamped under the command of Sambroko and Hassan, he accepted an invitation to return on board the "Hope" to Zanzibar to purchase fresh stores for another expedition, and he promised Ned that he would not only never again have anything to do with slave-trading, but, after the experience he had gained, would keep aloof from all those who engaged in that barbarous traffic. Tom Baraka, his wife, and Chando also came on board, Tom having inspired Masika with a curiosity to see the wonders of the island, as Zanzibar is called. The great desire of his heart was accomplished. From the commencement of the journey he had instructed her in that faith which had afforded him support and comfort during his long exile from the home he had expected never again to see. Though she did not at first understand all Tom said, her mind, as well as that of her son, became gradually enlightened, and he had the happiness of seeing them both baptised before they left Zanzibar under the escort of Sayd, who undertook to protect them and to restore them safely to their native village. It cost Tom, however, much to part from his old master and Ned, though he was reconciled to the separation by the belief which they had taken care to instil into him, that he might prove an unspeakable blessing to his countrymen by imparting to them the truths of the Gospel and instructing them in the arts of civilisation. He and Sayd were the last persons to quit the "Hope," as, with a full cargo of ivory and other African produce, she sailed for England. Though the voyage was long, Ned had scarcely finished the account of his adventures when the schooner reached the Thames, and the two lieutenants, richer men than they had ever before been in their lives, accompanied by Ned and Charley, set off to report to Mr Farrance the success of their undertaking. On reaching the house they were greatly surprised at hearing that he, with his brother, had a few days before started for Triton Cottage. On this Lieutenant Pack, bidding farewell to Mr Hanson, accompanied by Ned and Charley, immediately set off for home. As they approached, Ned, looking out of the carriage window, saw a young lady leaning on the arm of a gentleman who bore a strong resemblance to Mr Farrance. It needed not a second glance to convince him that the young lady, though much taller than the Mary he remembered, was Mary herself, and calling the post-boy to stop, in a moment he was out of the chaise and running towards them. "It is--it is Ned!" cried Mary, and forgetting her advanced age, and many other things besides, she threw her arms round his neck and burst into tears; but as she looked up directly afterwards and saw Lieutenant Pack coming stumping eagerly towards them, the bright smile which overspread her countenance showed that they were tears of joy. The lieutenant took her in his arms and kissed her cheek again and again. "How is sister Sally--all right I hope?" "She is at home with Uncle Farrance; and here is my papa," she added, pointing to a gentleman standing near her. "Your papa, Mary?" exclaimed the lieutenant putting out his hand. "I am happy to see you, sir, whatever claim you have to that relationship, although you shall not carry off our Mary if I can help it." The gentleman smiled faintly. "You certainly, sir, have a superior, if not a prior claim, from all the loving-kindness which you and your sister have shown her, and I should indeed be ungrateful were I to act contrary to your wishes," answered the stranger. "Well, well, come along, we will settle that by-and-by," said the lieutenant, as he walked hurriedly on. "I want to see my good sister Sally and assure her that I am as sound in health and limb as when I went away." He had let go Mary's hand, and she and Ned now followed, Charley having got out some time before to take a shorter cut to the coast-guard station, where he expected to find his father. Miss Sally did not go into hysterics, as Mary had so nearly done, on seeing the lieutenant and her nephew, but received them both as her affectionate nature prompted, though as she looked up into Ned's face she declared that, had not he come back with his uncle, she would have had some doubts as to his identity. Mr Farrance now came forward and more formally introduced his brother, assuring the lieutenant of the proofs he had obtained to his entire satisfaction that he was Mary's father, "though," he added, as he took him aside, "I fear, from the trials and sufferings he has endured, his days on earth are destined to be few." This, indeed, when the lieutenant had an opportunity of observing the elder Mr Farrance, he thought likely to be the case. The lieutenant and Ned were too much engaged--the one in describing his voyage, and the other his adventures in Africa--to inquire after any of their neighbours, though it was very evident that Miss Sally had a matter of importance which she wished to communicate. "Come, Sally, what is it?" exclaimed the lieutenant. "Has Mrs Jones got twins? or is Miss Simpkins married? or is poor old Shank dead and not left enough to bury him, as I always said would be the case?" "Hush, hush," said Miss Sally, looking towards Mary and her father, who, with Ned, were seated at the window. "It is about Mr Shank I wish to tell you. The old man is dead, and it was partly about his affairs that Mr Farrance came down here, or they would have sent for Mary and me to London. It is a very extraordinary story. He was once a miser, and although suffering apparently from poverty, had no less than thirty thousand pounds, which he has left to our dear Mary. He did so before he knew he was her grandfather, which he turns out without doubt to have been. His only daughter married Mr Farrance, and was lost in the Indian seas on board the ship from which you saved Mary and Tom. Mary was with the old man until his death, and was a great comfort to him, but she had not the slightest suspicion that he intended to leave her a sixpence. From what our friend Mr Thorpe had said, however, I was not so much surprised as I might otherwise have been. Mary had so interested him in the sufferings of the Africans, caused by the slave trade, that he left a note expressing his hope that she would employ such means as she might have at her disposal to better their condition, especially by the establishment of missions, which he expressed his belief would prove the best way for accomplishing that end." No one would have supposed from Mary's manner that she had suddenly become an heiress. Indeed no one was more astonished than Ned when he heard the account Miss Sally had given his uncle. It seemed, indeed, to afford him much less satisfaction than might have been supposed. Her wealth, however, was not increased by her father's death, which occurred a short time afterwards. Several years passed away; by that time Africa had been explored by the many energetic travellers who have so greatly benefited its people by acting as pioneers to the missionaries who have since gone forth to carry to them the blessings of the Gospel. Mary had to wait until she was of age before she inherited her grandfather's property, when she became the wife of honest Ned Garth, then a commander, and who, greatly to his surprise, found that Mr Farrance had settled on him a sum equal to her fortune. Mary did not forget Mr Shank's wishes, nor did Ned the scenes he had witnessed in Africa, both ever showing a warm interest in its dark-skinned races by contributing liberally towards the support of every enterprise for their benefit. THE END. 
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43136	----	Mou-Setse - A Negro Hero The Orphans' Pilgimage - A Story of Trust in God By L.T. Meade Published by Wm. Isbister, Limited, London. This edition dated 1880. Mou-setse - A Negro hero, by L.T. Meade. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ MOU-SETSE - A NEGRO HERO, BY L.T. MEADE. STORY ONE, CHAPTER ONE. PART I--THE TOWN OF EYEO. After all, his story began like any one else's--he came into the world. In a picturesque town in Africa he opened his eyes; and there is no doubt that his mother was as proud of her little black baby as any English mother would be of her child with fair skin. So far, his story was like any other person's story, but there, I think, the likeness came to an end. He was an African boy, and knew nothing of what we English people call civilisation. Mou-Setse first opened his eyes on the world in a clay hut; but this fact by no means denoted that his parents were poor people; on the contrary, his father was one of the chief men of the town, and a member of the king's council. Nor was the town a poor one. Perhaps I had better describe it a little, and also describe some of the strange actions of its inhabitants, before I really tell Mou-Setse's story. Though most of the houses were built of clay, the town of Eyeo was considered very beautiful. It lay in the midst of a fertile and lovely country called Yarriba. The town measured fifteen miles round, and a great deal of the ground was laid out in fields and gardens, so that, notwithstanding what we should call its want of civilisation, it looked very unlike many of the smoky, dirty towns at home, and very much pleasanter to live in. There were walls round the town twenty feet high, built also of clay; and outside the walls there was a deep ditch. This ditch and this high wall were both necessary to protect the town from its enemies. Of course, like all African towns, it had a great many enemies, but it was supposed to be very well protected. The King of Yarriba lived in Eyeo. He had several wives, and his huts covered a whole square mile of the town. He was an idolater, and he had a council of some of the chief men to help him to rule. The king and his people had a very strange religion; each one of them had a god in his own house, and there were also two chief idols, one called Korowah and the other Terbertaru. One of these gods was for the men, and the other for the women. The women were not allowed to look at the men's god; and when the chief priest offered sacrifice to this god they dared not even glance at him. They might offer to their own god fowls, pigeons, and sometimes bullocks. These curious idolaters had also a very strange way of burying their dead. All the dead man's riches, instead of going to his children, were buried with him. If he happened to have been a very rich man, his dead body was carried in procession round the town to the burying-place, _which was in the floor of his own room_. After he was buried there with all his riches, his family went on living in the house and daily trampled on his grave without the least concern. In this town, with its strange religion and its many odd customs, was born the little black baby who is to be the hero of this story. He was called Mou-Setse, and, though he had black skin and rather round and beady eyes, and though certainly his thick, curling hair was also very woolly, yet in his own way he was as fine a little baby as any fair English child; and, as I have said before, his mother was just as proud of him. Mou-Setse had three brothers and one sister older than himself, so he had plenty of playfellows, and was a great pet, being the youngest of the family. The pretty little fellow used to sit on his mother's lap in the doorway of the mud hut, and play with some very precious glass beads which were hung round her neck. As he grew older he mounted on his elder brother's shoulders, and merrily would he and they laugh as they trotted up and down together. And as he grew still older, and ceased to be a baby, and was able to use his fat, strong legs, he and his brothers and sister went often outside the city walls, and walked through the maize fields beyond and over the plain till they came to the foot of the hills. Then, high up among the rocks, they would wander about in the shade and gather oranges and tamarinds and figs. No English boys could have been happier than these little Africans on such occasions. Neither Mou-Setse nor his brothers thought of any dark days that might come, and were, alas! only too near. STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWO. DARK DAYS IN THE TOWN. I have said that sad days were not very far from poor little Mou-Setse. They came when he was still only a little boy not more than eight years old. The people of Eyeo had need of their high wall and their strong fortifications, for they were surrounded by enemies. One day the news reached them that a strong neighbouring tribe, calling themselves Kakundans, were coming to attack them. The King of Eyeo had never done these people any harm, yet they wanted to conquer him, that they might take him and his subjects for slaves, and gain money by selling them to the Portuguese. This was very terrible news indeed; and great terror and great pain did it bring to the inhabitants of Eyeo. The poor mothers began to tremble as they clasped their babies in their arms and reflected on the dreadful thought that soon they and those little children so precious to them might be torn from each other. The fathers, too, brave warriors as they were, looking in the frightened faces of wives and children, felt some of those heart-pangs which make men resolute to conquer or to die. The king called a council, and it was resolved at this council that all needful preparations for war were to begin at once. Accordingly the priests offered sacrifices to Korowah, who was the men's god, while the women hastened to gain the favour of Terbertaru, who belonged to them. The warriors busied themselves in polishing their knives and sharpening their daggers and securing the handles of their axes. Even the little children tried to help. The elder boys cleaned and brightened the weapons, while the younger went out to pick fruit, rice, and corn, in case the enemy should shut them up and they should be short of food. Little Mou-Setse was particularly busy in this way, and his active little feet were scarcely ever still. These many preparations were not made a moment too soon. The captain of the war, and the chief warrior who was to defend the city gate, were only just appointed when the terrible Kakundans were seen approaching towards Eyeo. With their arms glittering in the sunbeams, on they came, nearer and nearer, trampling down the flourishing rice harvest, until the sound of their feet and the clanking of their weapons were heard just outside the city walls. It was the intention of this cruel enemy to encamp round about the city, and to subdue it by famine. Oh, what trouble there was in Eyeo that night! What weeping and sorrow in many a hut! For though the children were ignorant, and perhaps the wives had some hope, well did the warriors know that they had little chance of escape. They were determined, however, to do what they could, and to defend their wives and children at any cost. From the hour the Kakundans encamped round the city all was in confusion there. There was nothing thought of but the war. Now and then bands of men used to go out and fight with the enemy, but the Eyeo men had very few successes and many failures. As the days went by they grew weaker and weaker. Alas! famine was making them weak. Famine was beginning to tell on old and young alike in the unhappy city. Little Mou-Setse's fat legs grew thin, and his round cheeks hollow, while his bright, black eyes stared more and more out of his face every day. He was only one of many. He and his brothers and sister felt hunger, and even cried for bread, but they had not the terrible fear that pressed so heavily on the hearts of the grown people. That fear was to be realised all to soon. The Eyeo men could bear the dreadful famine no longer, so they consulted together what they should do to get food. The siege had now lasted several months. After thinking and consulting for a long time, they decided on a very dangerous plan. It was this: the bravest of the warriors determined to leave the city for a time, and to go into the country to try and get a supply of food. This was a most bold and dangerous plan. They themselves would be exposed to the attacks of the enemy, while the city would be left defenceless. Hunger, however, had made these brave men desperate. Anything, they thought, was better than their present condition. So the warriors went out in a strong band, leaving the little children, the sick, and the aged behind them. Mou-Setse's father and mother both went away. They bade their children good-bye cheerfully, and little Mou-Setse, as he clasped his arms round his mother's neck, even laughed at the prospect of the good food they all might soon have. Alas! how little they guessed the dreadful things that were about to happen. The Kakundan camp, quickly discovering that the strongest of the inhabitants of Eyeo had left the city to seek food, determined not to lose so good an opportunity to make a final attack on the place. To make this attack, however, they must take two or three days to prepare. But well did the wretched people inside the city know what was going to happen. Poor little Mou-Setse and his brothers and sister became at last really alive to their danger. They all cried and wept; but Mou-Setse, though the youngest, possessed the bravest heart. He knew that crying would do no good; he wondered would it be possible to act, and so to act as to save his brothers and sister. He said nothing to them, but he ran about the town, and chatted to the old women, and finally got them to tell him a secret. This was the secret: as many as possible meant to escape from Eyeo that night. Mou-Setse thought that he and his brothers and his sister might go too. Perhaps they might soon find their father and mother. Mou-Setse believed that if only he had his mother's arms round him again he might be safe. He told his brothers and sister of his plan, and they all agreed to escape that very night. As soon as the night was quite dark they left their hut and went softly in the direction of the city wall. They reached the great city gate in safety, but there a sad scene of confusion met their eyes. Crowds of people were trying to get out, and, in the darkness, many of the feebler ones were killed. It was dreadful to listen to their cries and groans. Mou-Setse saw that little children would have no chance whatever in such a crowd. He wondered could they climb the wall, but its smooth, hard side, twenty feet high, he soon saw would be utterly impracticable. Very sadly the children returned home, and most bitter tears did they shed in each other's arms. Poor little children! they little guessed that never again would they kiss each other, or play together, or be happy with that innocent happiness that the good and loving God gives to little children. Cruel men who followed the devil, not God, were soon to part them the one from the other. In the morning a truly fearful sight met their eyes. The huts were nearly empty; parties of the enemy walked about the streets; the gardens, that used to be so beautiful, were torn and ruined; many aged men, who had killed themselves in their dread of slavery, were lying dead in the streets. A little farther on they heard the crackling of burning wood, and soon the flames of their beloved city burst upon their sight. The enemy had set Eyeo on fire. STORY ONE, CHAPTER THREE. WHAT "THE RIGHT OF SEARCH" DID FOR MOU-SETSE. No doubt, the children who read this story have heard of slaves; have heard how some little children are not free; how they are sold to any one who will give enough money for them; and that whether they have loving mothers and kind fathers who break their hearts at parting from them. The fathers are sold to one slave master, the mothers to another, the children to another. Often, very often, these children and fathers and mothers never meet again. In these days no slaves are allowed to be kept in any English territory, and even in America the slaves are at last set free. At the time, however, when Mou-Setse was a little boy, there were numbers of slaves in America, and indeed in many other parts of the world. Mou-Setse had heard of slaves--for what tiny African boy had not?--and now he knew that he himself was going to be a slave. When he saw the flames rising up in Eyeo, and his beloved home being burnt to ashes, he knew that this fate was before him. "Let us fly!" said his elder brother, whispering eagerly to him in his native tongue; but Mou-Setse shook his head, for he knew he could not fly. All around was a terrible scene of confusion. Women, carrying children in their arms, were trying to escape from the burning huts; sometimes they were entangled in a prickly bush and thrown down, or they were caught by the cruel enemy and tied together in gangs, so that they could not escape. Mou-Setse stood quite still, and his brothers and sister, when they saw he could not fly, stayed near him. Soon the bright-looking children attracted attention, and were taken--then immediately they were separated from each other. Poor little Mou-Setse, as he was carried away in a gang with many other captives, though he forced the tears back from his eyes, and fried, brave little fellow that he was, to keep up a brave heart, yet could not but cast some lingering glances back at the rocky hills where he and his brothers had often played so happily. He felt in his poor little heart that his play days were over, for how often had his mother told him that there was no play for slave children. At last, after a long, long journey, little Mou-Setse and a long gang of other slaves found themselves at a place called Quorra. Here the Portuguese met them, and here they were to be really sold. A trader came to examine Mou-Setse, and finding him strong and healthy, quickly bought him. He was now to be sold again. The trader, seeing that he was a fine boy and handsome, took great pains with him. He gave him good food, and washed his polished black face, and brushed his woolly locks. He did this from no spirit of kindness, but simply from the desire to get a greater price for him. At last, when he had recovered from the fatigues of his journey, and looked fresh and bright, he brought him into the slave market. Here the traders who came to buy clustered round him and pulled off his clothes, and felt his limbs, and made him run, and leap, and throw his legs and arms about. No one cared whether he liked this treatment or not. He was treated in all respects like an animal without either soul or feeling. In about three hours he was bought by another trader and put, with many of his fellow slaves, into a canoe. They were sailing all that evening and all the next day. They passed through some very beautiful country, and Mou-Setse might have enjoyed the lovely scenery had his heart been less full of wonder and pain. As it was, however, he could think of nothing but Eyeo and his home. Again and again he seemed to hear his beloved mother's voice, or he fancied himself looking with pride and admiration at his brave warrior father. Though he loved his mother best, yet it was the remembrance of his father that brought most strength to his poor little heart now; for his father had said to him often in his native language that a brave boy never wept--tears were for women and girls, but not for boys, who hoped to be warriors by-and-bye. Remembering these words of his father's, little Mou-Setse pressed back the tears from his hot eyelids, and endeavoured to wear an indifferent face. He could not quite smile--his heart was too heavy for smiles--but no one saw the glistening of a tear on his dark cheek. Occupied with these bitter and sad thoughts, he could scarcely be expected to notice the beautiful scenery through which the river on which the canoe glided passed. His father, his mother, his brothers, his sister, he was torn from them all; he did not know what had become of them; he might never hope to see them again; he might never learn their fate; their suffering might be even greater than his own. Poor little boy! and he knew of no God to comfort him, and had never heard of any hope beyond this world. At last the canoe reached a place called Ikho. Little Mou-Setse was again sold, and this time was sent to the fold, or the spot where purchased slaves are kept till there is an opportunity to send them off in vessels to other countries. Mou-Setse found life in the fold very dreadful. He had a coarse rope put around his neck, the ends of which were fastened round the necks of other slaves, so that a long row of them were secured together, and one could not move without dragging all the others with him. The boys were thus roped together, and the men chained in fifties. In this terrible place--treated with cruelty, cold, half-naked-- Mou-Setse spent two months. But a greater evil was to come. This poor little African boy was to pass through a black and heavy cloud into God's glorious light. For let no one suppose that God had forgotten this little child whom He had made. Every hair of that little woolly head was numbered by God; every sigh he sighed, every groan he uttered, was heard and regarded by that great and good God, who loved him just as well with his black skin as He loved the fairest and most lovely English child. But Mou-Setse had a dreadful time before him, for God teaches His lessons in the storm as well as the sunshine. This suffering was to take place on board the Portuguese slave-ship to which he was shortly removed. No one can understand who has not witnessed it the miseries of a slave vessel. The negroes are placed on their backs, or fixed in a sitting position, on ranges of shelves, one above the other, and in dark, close places, where hardly any air and no light are allowed to enter. Here they are chained so close together that the space which each is allowed is scarcely so much as he would have in his coffin. Thus they lie for weeks and months, sometimes brought up on deck to jump about in their chains for exercise, exposed to sea-sickness, disease, and to the rubbing of the rough boards on their naked bodies. Many die, and those who live are, on landing, wretched objects. In the vessel in which Mou-Setse was, the men were packed away below deck, but the women and children were allowed to remain above. Sad, sad were their hearts as they thought of their dear native country, and of those little children and fathers and mothers from whom they were severed. Their bodily sufferings were also very hard to bear... But God had not forgotten them. Belief was at hand. At the time of which I speak, the English had put away slavery in their own countries, and they were very anxious to have it stopped everywhere. The other nations of Europe had agreed to check the slave trade so far as to allow to England what was called the right of search. That is to say, if an English ship saw another ship on the sea which was supposed to be a slaver, she might pursue it; and if slaves were found in it she might set them free. English vessels were kept cruising about the seas for this purpose. America, however, though calling herself a free country, had then in the Southern States upwards of two million suffering slaves, and she would not allow to England the right of search. Many slave-ships, therefore, falsely using the American flag, escaped uncaught. The Portuguese brig on board of which little Mou-Setse was had hoisted this flag; but there must have been something suspicious about her appearance, for one day an English man-of-war was seen bearing down upon her. When the captain and the traders saw this large vessel in full pursuit, they were in a great fright. They thought all their profits would be gone, for we may be quite sure they loved money very much, or they would never have taken to the slave trade. In their terror they told the poor slaves an untruth. They said that the people in the large ship wanted to eat them. All hands were set to work at the oars. Even little Mou-Setse pulled with every inch of strength he possessed; for, though he was very unhappy, he did not want to be eaten. So eager and frightened were the poor slaves that ten men pulled at one oar. But all was of no avail. Nearer and nearer came the great ship; and at last, after twenty-four hours of hard chase, she sailed up alongside the slaver, and all the negroes, were captured. Little did Mou-Setse know, as in terror he was taken on board the English ship, that his dark days--at least his very darkest days--were over; that from being a poor slave he was free. But retribution was at hand for those cruel traders who were so indifferent to the fate of the suffering human creatures they had bought and made their own. God sometimes punishes very soon, and in a very awful manner. This was the case on board the vessel where Mou-Setse had endured his worst sufferings. Through some accident the vessel, an old one and badly built, took fire. How terrible it looked in the dark night! How fearful were the cries of the terrified sailors! Mou-Setse and the other rescued slaves saw the flames from the English vessel. The captain and his crew also saw it and hastened back to the rescue, but too late. Before they could reach the spot the slave-ship had blown up and foundered, and those who happened still to be on board had perished. STORY ONE, CHAPTER FOUR. THE DAWN. I do not think Mou-Setse ever told any one what his feelings really were when he at last understood that he was free; that the English who had captured him, far from being his worst enemies, were proving themselves his best friends. There is a story told of him that, when he first landed at Sierra Leone, and saw a kind-looking black woman, he threw his arms round her neck, whispered to her in his native tongue that she was like his mother, and wept some of the tears he had restrained through all his sufferings on her bosom. But perhaps his early and great suffering had made him reserved, for, unlike most of his race, he had few words, and no ejaculations, to betray his feelings. For a time he even scarcely trusted the new life of peace and happiness which was opening before him. He had many dreams of being retaken as a slave, and his little face had a wistful and scarcely trustful expression. The kind English, however, did well by him. He was sent to a mission school at Freetown, where he was taught to read and to speak English; also to write, and, above all, in this school he first got any true, knowledge of God. It was wonderful how this knowledge took possession of him--how he craved to know more and more of his Father in Heaven; how eagerly he asked; how quickly he learned; and then, as the great love of God revealed itself, how his own warm heart leaped up in answer to it, until all the "fear which hath torment" passed away, and the little face became bright and happy. The good missionaries at Sierra Leone were more than kind to Mou-Setse; they had him baptised and openly proclaimed as a Christian. At his baptism they called him "John," but Mou-Setse would never allow himself to be addressed by this name. His mother had herself given him his other name, and the missionaries, when they saw how his heart still clung to his mother, spoke to him and of him by his old African name. In his new home he grew tall and strong; and having, notwithstanding the suffering he had endured on it, a fancy for the sea, went on board an English merchant-vessel when fourteen years of age. In this vessel he travelled over many parts of the world, and saw strange sights and new faces. Thus his childhood and early youth passed away. STORY ONE, CHAPTER FIVE. PART II--A PURPOSE. Mou-Setse grew up to be a man, with a very fixed purpose in his heart. All his thoughts and all his desires were bent on its accomplishment; but, as I said before, he was reserved, and never spoke of this thought of his inmost heart to human being. It brought out, however, marked characteristics in his face, and those who knew him well often spoke of the fire and earnestness in his eyes. As a sailor, he was a favourite with the crew and with the captain--that is, he was as great a favourite as any boy with a black skin could be, for it must not be supposed that all white people were as kind to him as the good missionaries; but, on the whole, he was well treated, and no rude words addressed to him on account of his colour brought a retort from his lips. He was by no means, however, wanting in bravery, as a little incident once showed. A great hulking white fellow had been abusing him, taunting him with cowardice, and daring him to fight. The sailors belonging to his ship looked on amused, and (as he was a blacky) not caring to interfere. "You ain't nothing but a coward," said the white man; "a coward, and the son of a slave." At these words Mou-Setse, who had been sitting very still and apparently unheeding, rose to the full length of his great height. The words "son of a slave" had brought a certain flash into his eye. With a stride, he was at the real coward's side. "I not fight," he said; "you not make me fight, when de Book say no. No; I not fight, but I knock you down." In a moment, without the least apparent effort, the hulking white fellow lay at his feet. "I specs you not like to lie dere," continued Mou-Setse. "Well, you beg de black man's pardon; den you get up and go away." After this little scene, no one cared: again to molest Mou-Setse. He remained a sailor until he was two-and-twenty; then he took his leave of the captain and his crew, and left their ship. He had become a sailor for the furtherance of his hidden and unspoken purpose. Now, having made and saved money, he went away. His purpose was calling him to America--then, indeed, the land of slaves. STORY ONE, CHAPTER SIX. MOU-SETSE SEEKS TO FULFIL HIS PURPOSE. I have said that Mou-Setse had a fixed purpose. This purpose led him to America. He settled in a certain town in one of the States, and with the money he had saved opened a small shop or store. He dealt in the kind of goods that his black brothers and sisters most needed, and many of them frequented his little shop. At this period of his life some people considered him miserly. His shop did well and his money stores increased, but he himself lived in the most parsimonious style; he scarcely allowed himself the necessaries of life, and never thought of marrying or giving himself the comforts of a home. All day long he attended his shop, but in the evening he went about a great deal, and gradually became known to all his black brothers and sisters in the town. Most of these were in slavery, and many had most bitter tales to tell. A few, however, were free; these were the slaves who had worked for long years to obtain sufficient money to buy this precious boon from their masters. With these free slaves Mou-Setse held much intercourse, asking them of their past life, and always inquiring most particularly from what part of Africa they or their parents had come. By degrees, as he collected money, he helped these free slaves to emigrate to Canada, where they could enjoy and make a good use of the freedom they had so dearly won. But he never helped any one to go away with his money without first exacting a promise from him or her. This promise was made in secrecy, and was, I believe, faithfully kept by each and all. As he helped each poor freed slave to get away (and as his gains increased he helped many)--as he helped them off, and knew that he had gained a certain promise from them, his heart grew lighter, and he felt that he was nearer to the realisation of some dearly cherished dream. On these occasions he often repaired to a certain church and prayed. Kneeling in the quiet church, the black man poured out a very full heart to his loving Father in heaven. "God, de good God," he would say, "let me not cry in vain; let me see my fader and moder and my broders and sister again. Give me more of de money, good God, and more, much more of de faith; so dat I may send more and more of de poor blackies to look for dose as I lobs!" But his great anxiety about his own people by no means closed the heart of Mou-Setse to those whose troubles he daily witnessed. For reasons of his own, he was always down on the quay to watch the faces of any new slaves that might come. He knew before any one else of a fresh slave who was brought into the town, and he always attended the slave market. But he did more; he helped his brethren whose groans went daily--indeed, night and day--up to heaven. Many a poor mother, when she was torn from her child, went to Mou-Setse's store, and poured out her great trouble into his kind heart; and somehow or other, he managed to get tidings of the lost child, or the lost parent or husband. By degrees he made an immense connection for himself all over America, and no one knew more about the ways and doings of the black people than he did. STORY ONE, CHAPTER SEVEN. MOU-SETSE WAITS AND WATCHES. Years went by, bringing changes, bringing to Mou-Setse grey hairs, taking from him his fresh youth, and adding to his face some anxious lines. But the years brought greater changes than the light hands they lay upon head and brow, to his black brothers and sisters in America. The brave souls who had fought through thick and thin for the freedom of the slaves, who had gone through danger and hardship almost at the peril of their lives in this great cause, had won a noble victory. America, by setting free her black brethren, had also removed from herself a most grievous curse. The black men were free, and Mou-Setse had removed from the little town where he had first settled to the larger and more flourishing one of St Louis. He had succeeded as a merchant, and was now a rich man. His love for his brethren had also increased with years. He did much to help them. He was reverenced and loved by all who knew him, and that was saying no little, for there was scarcely a black man in the States who did not know Mou-Setse. But the dearly-longed-for and unfulfilled purpose was still discernible on his face, and oftener than ever would he repair to the church to pray. "I specs de dere Lord will be good to me," he would say; "de dere Lord hab patience wid me. I told de Lord dat I would have great patience wid Him. I will wait His good leisure. I believe as I will see my people again." Mou-Setse had for long years now added work to his prayers, leaving no stone unturned to find or obtain some tidings of the father and mother and brothers and sister from whom he had been so cruelly torn. But all his efforts had been as yet in vain, no description even resembling them had ever reached his ears. His black friends told him that his father and mother had either never reached America or had long been dead. But Mou-Setse would never believe these evil reports, his strong faith that at least some of his own would be restored to him, that the work and labour of his life would not be in vain, never deserted him. "I tole de Lord dat I would have great patience," he would reply to those who begged of him to give up so hopeless a search, and doubtless patience was doing its perfect work, for the end for which he so longed was at hand. STORY ONE, CHAPTER EIGHT. FRUIT OF FAITH AND PATIENCE. One very bitter day in March there was great commotion among the black people of St Louis. The snow was falling thickly, the wind was blowing. Inclement as the whole winter had been, this day seemed the worst of all; but it did not deter the freed blacks from braving its hardships, from hurrying in crowds from place to place, and above all from repairing in vast crowds to their own churches. Every coloured church in St Louis was full of anxious blacks, but they had not assembled for any purposes of worship. Unless, indeed, we except that heart worship which takes in the ever-present Christ, even when he comes hungry, naked, and in the guise of a stranger. The black people of St Louis made beds in the church pews and kindled fires in the basements. Having made all preparations, they went, headed by their preachers, to the quays; there to meet some six hundred famished and shivering emigrants, who had come up the river all the way from the States of the Mississippi Valley and Louisiana. In extreme poverty and in wretched plight whole families had come, leaving the plantations where they were born, and severing all those local ties for which the negro has so strong an attachment. All of these poor people, including the very young and the very aged, were bound for Kansas. This was the beginning of a great exodus of the negroes from the Southern to the Northern States. The cause did not seem at first very manifest; but it must be something unusual, something more than mere fancy, which would induce women and children, old and young, with common consent to leave their old homes and natural climate, and face storms and unknown dangers in Northern Kansas. Mou-Setse, with his eyes, ears, and heart ever open, had heard something of the dissatisfaction of the negroes in the South. They were suffering, not, indeed, now from actual slavery, but from wicked rulers who would give the coloured man no justice. Outrages, murders, and wrongs of all descriptions were driving these fugitives from their homes. They said little of hope in the future; it was all of fear in the past. They were not drawn by the attractions of Kansas; they were driven by the terrors of Louisiana. Happen what would, they all resolved to fly, never to return. Death rather than return was their invariable resolution. Mou-Setse, as I have said, had heard of this exodus. Profound secret as the negroes had kept it, yet it had reached his ears. He consulted his black brothers and sisters in St Louis, and it was resolved that the strangers should be well received--hence the preparations in the churches, and hence the assemblage on the quays. Mou-Setse was one of the last to leave the church where he had been most busy. Just as he was about to turn away to help to fetch into warmth and shelter the famished emigrants he turned round. Some voice seemed to sound in his ears; some very strong impelling influence caused him to pause. He entered one of the pews, sat down and buried his head in his hands. Something seemed to tell the black man that the desire of his eyes was coming to him; that his life-work was bearing at last its fruit. So sure was he of this that he forgot to pray. He only said several times, "Tank de Lord; tank de Lord berry much." Then he followed his companions to the quays. How often had he gone there in vain! How often had he gazed at face after face, looking and longing for the forms of those he loved! They had never greeted him. Now his step was elastic, his face bright. Two hours after he had left the church he entered it again, leading by the hand a very old man and a bowed and aged woman. "My fader and moder," he explained very simply to the bystanders. He put the old couple in the most comfortable pew, and sat down by them. They both seemed half dead. The woman lay nearly lifeless. Mou-Setse took her limp and withered hand and began to rub it softly. "How do you know them?" asked some interested bystanders who knew Mou-Setse's story. "De ole woman hab de smile," he said; "I neber forgot my moder's smile. She looked at me on de quay, and she smiled, and my heart leaped, and I said, `Tank de Lord, glory be to God.' I tole ye de Lord would help me." Just then the man stretched himself, opened his eyes, fixed them on Mou-Setse, and began to mutter. Mou-Setse bent his head to listen. Suddenly he sprang to his feet. "Oh praise the Lord!" he exclaimed again. "I said as de Lord would help me. Listen to de ole man, he is talking in de tongue of the Akus, in the country of Yarriba. He was de brave warrior, my fader was." Yes, Mou-Setse was right. The fruit of long patience was at last yielding to him its precious store, and the old warrior of the beautiful African valley had come back through nobody knew what hardships, with his aged wife, to be nursed, cherished, and cared for by a long-lost son. As soon as they were sufficiently revived Mou-Setse took them to the comfortable home he had been so long getting ready for them. Here they told him of their slavery, of the terrors they had undergone, of the bitterness of knowing nothing of his fate, of the lonely days when they had belonged to different masters; then of their release from slavery, and how, as free man and woman, they had met again. But their hardships had been great, for though they had so-called liberty, every privilege belonging to a white man seemed to be denied them. They resolved to fly with their brethren. Selling all they had, they managed to scrape together enough money to pay for their passage in the river steamer. Penniless, famished, half dead, they arrived at St Louis. "It is a good land you hab come to," said Mou-Setse when his mother had finished her narrative, "a land flowing wid milk and honey. Yes, it is a good land; and I am like Joseph, only better dan Joseph was, for I hab got back my fader and moder too, praise de Lord." "I am Jacob," said the old warrior slowly, "and you are, indeed, my son Joseph. It is enough. Praise de Lord." "De Lord is berry good. I tole ye so," exclaimed the aged wife and mother. STORY TWO, CHAPTER ONE. THE ORPHANS' PILGRIMAGE--A STORY OF TRUST IN GOD. In one of the small towns in the north of Austria there once lived a humble pair, as far as earthly goods and position go, but who were rich in what was far better--love to God and simple trust in His Fatherly care. The woman was a Tyrolese, the daughter of an old harper, who still resided in one of the small villages among the mountains. As a motherless girl she had been his only companion, and many a time her sweet pure voice would be heard accompanying her father in the simple melodies of her native land, as he wandered from place to place to earn a livelihood. The time came when the harper's daughter left her hills for a home in town, but was more than repaid by the tender love of her husband, who, though he could earn but a scanty subsistence, was good and kind to her. Their fare was frugal, but, happy in each other's affection, they were content and thankful, and, contrasting their lot with that of the Saviour, would say, "Can we, the servants, expect to fare better than our Lord and Master?" As years passed by, three little children were sent to them by their Father in heaven, to whom they gave the names of Toni, Hans, and Nanny; very precious gifts, and they showed their gratitude by training them early in the right way, teaching them from His word to know the good God, to love and trust Him, to try to please Him, and to love their neighbour as themselves. They were unselfish little children, and would at any time share their scanty meals with others in distress. "Little children, love one another," was a text often repeated, and also practised, by them. The two boys were very fond of each other, and both were united in love for the little sister whom they felt bound to protect. Great was their delight when she first tottered alone across the room, where they stood, one at each end, with outstretched arms to receive her; and when her little voice was heard crying for the first time "Father," "Mother," they shouted for joy. On the opposite side of the street lived an artist, who took great pleasure in this little family, and painted a picture in which he introduced the children, not intending it for sale, but as a gift to their parents, in token of the esteem he felt for them. A very pretty picture it was--little Nanny, lightly draped, showing her fat dimpled shoulders and bare feet, her golden hair floating in the wind, was in a meadow chasing a butterfly; while her brothers stood by, as guardian angels, with hands extended ready to catch her if she stumbled. It might have fetched a high price, but the man was not in needy circumstances, and would not sell it. When Nanny was about four years old it happened that the cholera--that fearful scourge which has from time to time been so fatal in many parts--broke out in this town, and both father and mother were smitten and lay ill with it at the same time. I need not say how, in the midst of pain and weakness, many an anxious thought was turned to the future of their little ones; but, as faith had been strong in the time of health and prosperity, it did not fail them in their hour of need, and they trusted simply to the promise, "Leave thy fatherless children; I will preserve them alive." In a very short time the children were left; orphans, and (the eldest not being more than eight years old) quite unable to do anything for their own support. What was to be done? The neighbours were kind and good to them, but, having families of their own, had enough to do without adding to their cares. It was at length arranged that a letter should be written to an uncle who lived in Vienna, and was doing well as manager of a small theatrical company in that town. Not a very good school, you will say, for these children who had been trained so carefully. No sooner did the man receive the sad news than he set off, arriving just after the funeral was over. He lost no time in selling his brother's small possessions, and, pocketing the money, started for his home, taking the little ones with him. I should say that, at the special request of their friend the artist, the picture was reserved and taken with them. This, then, together with the large Bible from which their father used to read to them morning and evening, and the box containing their clothes, was all that they could call their own. Poor children! they had certainly found a home, but what a contrast to that to which they had been accustomed! Sorely did they miss the tender, watchful love which had surrounded them all their lives, and the peace and calm which dwelt in that household. Their uncle was a hard, money-loving man, and determined to make the best for himself out of this seeming act of kindness. Therefore, instead of giving them a good education and fitting them to make their way in the world respectably, he merely taught them what would be profitable to himself in his own line, viz, dancing and gymnastics. Their whole time was spent in practising to appear in public on the stage, and many a weary hour did they pass, being punished if they dared to complain, and never by any chance being encouraged by a word of approval. Such a life as this soon began to tell upon little Nanny, who had never been a strong child; but not the most earnest entreaties from her brothers would induce the hard-hearted man to allow her to exert herself less. It was a weary life for them all, and many a time when wreaths and bouquets were showered upon them by the applauding audience would they retire and burst into tears for very fatigue and sorrow. Toni and Hans at last became seriously alarmed about their little sister. She got gradually paler and thinner, and when, one day, after dancing for some time, with flushed cheek and shortened breath, she fell to the ground in a faint, they could endure it no longer, but ran to their uncle, beseeching him to have pity on her. I am sorry to tell you, the poor boys were only answered by blows, and making nothing of their grief, he walked carelessly away, saying she would be better after her dinner. This was too much for Hans; he jumped up from the floor where he had been sitting, and stamping his foot, his face glowing with anger, cried out, "I shall not allow her to dance any more!" to which he, of course, received only a scornful laugh in reply. Nanny had by this time revived, and was sitting between her brothers wiping away her tears. "Oh! if father and mother knew of this," said Hans, "I think it would make them weep even in heaven; but perhaps then they would send an angel to help us." "We do not know whether they can see us or not," answered Toni; "but we are sure the good God can. I have been asking Him to put into our minds what we shall do for Nanny. Sometimes I am afraid she will leave us like father and mother did. And do you know I feel as solemn as little Samuel must have done when God called him, for a thought has come into my mind which I am sure must have been put there by our Father in heaven." "And what is it?" asked Hans, in a whisper, folding his little hands, as if inspired by the devotion of his brother. "Why, that we must save our sister, and not let her die," answered Toni. "That would be glorious; but how shall we manage it?" "We must run away from this place with her and take her to our grandfather, in the mountains." "But that is so far away, and we have no money: and then, how should we know the way?" asked Hans anxiously. "The little birds fly away in the winter to Africa--God shows them the way, and gives them strength and food; and shall not we trust Him to help us his children?" It was all clear to Hans now, and the bold resolve was made. From that time the two boys thought of little else than the intended escape. The sight of their little darling pining away before their eyes nerved them to plan and to work. Preparations were carried on in secret: no one having any idea of what was going on. A little playfellow lived close by whose father was a carpenter, and being often in the man's workshop, he came to have a liking for the orphans; and many a spare piece of wood he gave them to play with, which, by watching him at work, they learned in their rude way to fashion into shape. They now began to put the small knowledge they had thus acquired to some account; and after many attempts and failures, at last succeeded in making a rough sort of little cart. The cover of a box with a rail round it formed the seat, the pole was a cast-off measuring-rule which had been thrown away as useless; but when they came to the wheels, they had need of all the patience they possessed; however, perseverance in due time was rewarded, when, after devoting every spare moment they could secure, the little carriage which was to effect their escape was finished. How happy they felt when the finishing touch was put, when it was drawn away to a corner of the yard behind the workshop, and hidden among a heap of sawdust and shavings! A heavy burden seemed lifted off their hearts: they dreamt not of any future difficulties, and only looked forward with eagerness to the moment when they should be free, and when the roses would come back again to their little sister's cheeks. All was now in readiness: that very evening they were to start on their pilgrimage, leaving the shelter of their uncle's house, together with his tyranny, behind them. It was time for Nanny to be let into the secret; and, having done this, the two boys, kneeling down, drew her between them and prayed, "O Lord, send a good angel to help us, and keep uncle from waking when we go away." They had fixed on an evening when they had not to appear in public. All had retired to rest early, and they waited only till they thought it would be safe. The boys then arose, and, dressing themselves quickly, made up a small bundle of clothes, and having lifted the precious picture from the wall, and their father's Bible from the box, they proceeded to summon Nanny. This was of all the most anxious part, for she had from the first slept in her aunt's room. Her little ears, however, were on the alert, and a gentle tap as signal made her leap lightly out of bed, and with shoes in hand and her clothes on her arm, she was in a moment at the door. It was bolted: and how could she reach it? Standing on tiptoe did not help her. So, quickened by fear, no time was lost in getting a chair and mounting on it, the bolt was quickly drawn, and in a moment's time the child was at her brothers' side, pale and trembling. And now came a new dilemma, the house door was locked, and the key in their uncle's room. Here, however, their gymnastic training stood them in good stead, and their bedroom window being not far from the ground, they jumped out of it, and alighted safely on the pavement. The little cart was next brought from its place of concealment. Nanny, wrapped in her cloak, took her seat in it, and the book and picture being laid at her feet, and the bundle serving as a cushion at her back, the children set out on their unknown way. It was quite dark. They had not gone very far when they encountered the watchman with his horn and lantern. Throwing the light full on the strange group, he cried-- "Halt! who goes there?" "Good friends," promptly answered the elder of the boys; when the man, with a kindly smile, let them pass without further inquiry. STORY TWO, CHAPTER TWO. In due time they had got clear of the town, and were trotting along a straight country road as fast as their feet would carry them. Whether the Tyrolese mountains lay to the right or left, before or behind them, they knew not nor seemed to care. They had left their cruel uncle, and the mere thought of this made them happy. They were but little children, and did not reflect on any dangers they might have to encounter. It was in the dim twilight of early morning that they happened to meet a woman driving a cart filled with cans of milk which she was taking to the town. A sudden thought seemed to strike Toni, for, going straight up to her, he said-- "Please, mother, can you tell us the way to the mountains?" "To the Tyrolese mountains?" answered the woman, in a tone of astonishment, standing still, and looking at the group with much interest. Perhaps she had children of her own, and pictured them as little wanderers like those before her. "You are all right so far," she continued, "for a sister of mine left me to go there but the other day, and drove straight along this road. I watched her till she was out of sight. I am afraid I cannot direct you further. But what do you three children want there?" she inquired. "We are going to look for grandfather," Nanny answered in haste, "and he will give us some breakfast, for we are so hungry." At these last words she cast a longing glance at the milk cans. "So hungry, are you?" said the woman, looking at her with real motherly tenderness; then taking out a tin measure, she filled it to the brim, and putting it into her hands, said, "Drink it all up, my dear; and it is milk from a Tyrolese cow, too," she added, smiling. "And we must not forget your good horses. Will they take milk too, I wonder?" offering one of the boys a full can, which she filled a second and a third time. Then she drove on, scarcely giving the children time to thank her. "It was God sent us our breakfast," said Toni. "Father used to say that He sees us, though we cannot see Him, and knows what we are in want of as well as we do ourselves. But now the sun is rising, and we must ask Him to take care of us to-day." Nanny stepped out of her little carriage, and under a wide-spreading beech-tree, the branches of which overshadowed them, the children knelt down, and in their own simple way entreated God's blessing. Just at that moment the sun, like a ball of fire, rose above the horizon and shed over them his golden beams. We can fancy how lovely everything must have appeared to these little ones, who had never known the beauties of sunrise in the country. "It seems as if God was holding his shining hand above us and blessing us," said Toni. "Oh, how pretty!" exclaimed Hans. "Everything about us is so bright; even the very stones; and the little blades of grass look covered with diamonds, but it is the dew which God sends to refresh them. How good He is! He cares for the plants as well as for us, but He made them, so they are His children too." "And look at this," cried Nanny, full of glee, taking up an acorn cup; "only see what a large drop of dew inside--it must be a bath for the tiny insects." Whirr, whirr--up flew a bird from its nest. "Ah, have I frightened you, you poor little thing?" "That must be a lark," said Toni; "look how high it flies, singing all the time; up and up it goes as if it meant to go right up to heaven." "Greet father and mother for me, pretty bird," cried Hans, "for they are in heaven." "Yes, yes, and for Nanny too," said the little maiden; and touching the tips of her small fingers with her lips, she threw them up as if wafting the kisses upward. "Perhaps the lark will carry our prayers to God," said Hans. "Oh no," replied his brother, looking very thoughtful. "God does not need any messenger to take our prayers to Him, for He is always with us; and even if we just think in our hearts what we wish to ask Him, He knows it all quite well. Father said He was close by at all times." "Hark what a pretty song the lark is singing! What a pity we cannot hear what it is about!" "I will tell you, Nanny, what I fancy he would say," said Toni. "`I thank the good God that He has given me wings, so that I can fly up to the blue sky, and that He has made the sun so warm, and the fields so green and soft where I build my nest.'" "That is nice, Toni. But listen! there is a bee humming as it flies by. What does it say, do you think?" "Well, perhaps it is buzzing, `Praise God that He lets me rove from flower to flower to sip the dew and gather honey, and that I am such a happy little bee.'" "Now then," continued the little girl, "there is a large caterpillar creeping along on the ground. It cannot say anything; it neither sings nor hums." Toni was silent a moment; then taking both Nanny's hands into his, he went on, "I was just thinking, my dear little sister, of something mother used to tell me about that. The caterpillar thinks, perhaps, `I certainly am not so beautiful now as many other things in the world, but I have life and can enjoy it. I thank God for that; and some day, when I am tired, He will teach me how to spin myself a cradle in which I may lie down and sleep; then, when I am quite rested, God will come and wake me, and instead of creeping slowly on the ground I shall fly up a lovely thing with wings.'" "And then, you know," said Hans, following out his mother's words, which his brother had recalled, "it will be with our parents something like this butterfly, for first they lived on earth, then God laid them down to sleep in the churchyard, and at last He will come and wake them, and they will be happier and more beautiful than they ever were before." "How can you tell what the birds and insects think about?" said Nanny, looking inquiringly into her brother's face. "Of course we can only fancy it all," Toni replied; "but mother often talked about these things, and taught us to be kind to dumb creatures, and never to hurt even the smallest insect that God had made, because they can feel as well as we; and then she would tell us so many pretty stories of their different ways, that it makes me think sometimes they must have some sort of reason like human beings. But now step in, Nanny; we must not talk any longer, but go on our way, or we shall never reach grandfather's." The little one settled herself comfortably in the cart, her brothers harnessed themselves once more, and away they went. STORY TWO, CHAPTER THREE. When they had gone a short distance, Hans, who had been looking rather grave, whispered into his brother's ear, "Toni, do not say this to Nanny--but how shall we know where grandfather's house is? We may wander among the mountains all day long and never find it." "God will lead us right," answered the trusting boy, "and give us strength for the long journey. Only think, we have been up all night, and are not tired yet. But, Nanny," he said, turning to his sister, "you must go to sleep now; lie down and shut your little eyes." The boys stopped, folded up their coats, putting them under her head for a pillow; and, being protected from the sun's rays by a sort of awning formed of green boughs, she snuggled her head down and was soon fast asleep. It was some hours before Nanny awoke. They had passed through some villages without stopping in any, and were now beginning to feel very hungry. It was early dawn when they had their drink of milk, and they had tasted nothing since. The little girl began to cry piteously, but Toni comforted her, promising they would get something to eat the very next place they came to. Just at that moment a cart filled with potatoes passed them; and as they followed in its track they found, to their great joy, that here and there one or two had fallen on the road, so they were thankfully gathered up and put into Nanny's apron, the carter meanwhile having vanished out of sight. Some distance in front was a large meadow, where a flock of sheep was feeding. When they came near they saw the shepherd in the act of warming his breakfast over a fire of sticks he had just kindled. The boys, running up to him, asked leave to bake their potatoes in the ashes. This was readily granted; and not only that--the man kindly shared his meal with the hungry children, giving each of them some porridge and a slice of bread. How nice it tasted! and how happily they sat round the fire, peeling their potatoes and talking to their new friend! When they had finished breakfast, the boys, who had been on their feet all night, lay down on a green bank to rest, and being very weary soon fell asleep. Manny was quite refreshed after her nap and hearty meal, and amused herself meanwhile with the sheep and lambs, who soon became so friendly that they would let her pat and fondle them as much as she liked. After an hour's time they were again on their journey, and had scarcely proceeded half a mile when a cart laden with wood passed by. The man belonging to it was walking by the side of his horses (his "browns," as he called them), and stopping to speak to our little friends, he asked them where they had come from and whither they were going. When he had heard their simple tale he looked kindly at them, and said, "You have come a long way, and must be weary, my boys; I will give you a lift. Step out, my little lass." So saying he lifted Nanny out of her cart, and hanging it at the back of his waggon, was going to help them, when with one leap they sprang up and placed themselves on a log of wood he had put across to serve as a seat. "There now," he continued, "I can take you ten miles on your way. I wish it had been farther, but I must then unlade my cart and return back again." This was a pleasant and most unexpected rest. It passed only too quickly. They were not long in reaching the place to which the man was bound, when, having deposited his load of wood and taken a kind leave of the children, he drove off, followed by many a loud and hearty "Thank you" from his grateful little friends. It was now mid-day, and they began to wonder where they should dine. It happened, as they passed through the next village, that the peasants were just returning from their work. As may be supposed, the little pilgrims attracted observation, and many questions were asked by one and another till their story was told. Hans, whose thoughts were at that time naturally intent on the subject of dinner, could at last bear it no longer, and said frankly, "You have questioned us about all sorts of things, but no one has asked if we are hungry." "Well said, little fellow," they answered, much amused at this practical hint. Then every one was more anxious than the other to show hospitality to the friendless orphans, till the schoolmaster settled the point by taking them home with him. His pretty house was close by, and having requested his wife, who was in the act of serving up the dinner, to let them have it on the grass, the table was brought out, and they sat down to baked fruit and pancakes--undreamt-of luxuries to the little travellers, who five minutes before knew not where they were to get a piece of bread. To Nanny it recalled the old home, and, throwing her arms round the good woman's neck, she told her how sometimes, when she had been a very good girl, her mother would give her that for a treat. Dinner was over, and now it was time for the children to go on their way. The peasants were waiting to take leave of them, and many had brought their little offerings of sympathy: one a loaf of bread, another a pot of honey, while a feeble old woman came tottering along with a bottle of milk. The children of the village said they must harness Nanny's horses, and admired her spirited steeds, playfully offering them a feed of corn. So they went merrily forward, accompanied for some distance by a troop of the younger inhabitants, and followed by the blessings of all. They had proceeded about a mile when they saw a boy in the distance running along the road they were going. They stopped when he came up, and, as he lifted a corner of his jacket, what was their delight to see snugly lying there rolled up like a ball a Pomeranian puppy, about four weeks old, with a soft, white, silky coat. "What are you going to do with the pretty creature?" they all exclaimed with one breath. "Give him to whoever will take him," said the boy, "for we have three more of the same sort at home. Would you like to have him?" he continued. "That I should dearly," said Hans, holding out both hands to receive the little fellow, "and thank you a thousand times." "You are heartily welcome," returned their new friend; "indeed, I am obliged to you for taking him off my hands." The bottle of milk was at once opened, and, there being no cup, Hans's hand was filled again and again for the dog to lap from, which he did most gratefully; after which a bed was made up of Nanny's cloak, and, with her apron to cover him, he was soon asleep. And now they start off afresh, and their way being for a time in the direction of the boy's home, he proposed harnessing himself to make a third, and away they went full gallop. STORY TWO, CHAPTER FOUR. It was far on in the afternoon when they passed through a beautiful wood. The Tyrol abounds in fir forests, beeches, and chestnuts. We may fancy our little friends, then, enjoying themselves under the shade of the trees. Many hours having passed since their mid-day meal, the loaf of bread was produced, and Toni cut a slice for each with his pocket-knife, spreading it with honey. This proved very grateful to the hungry children, who had tasted nothing since their dinner with the good schoolmaster. Toni and Hans, tired enough by this time, were glad after their meal to stretch themselves on the grass and go to sleep, but Nanny, who had been spared all fatigue, ran about playing with the dog, going here and there, and looking with wondering pleasure at the trees and wild flowers, all of which were so new to her, and talking to the little birds that hopped from bough to bough twittering their pretty songs. The light was playing between the trees, flecking the turf beneath with shadows, and illuminating the trunks of the old firs with a ruddy glow. The little girl skipped about in great delight, getting as she went along a lap full of flowers, which she amused herself by forming into bouquets and wreaths. In stooping down, her eyes fell upon some wood strawberries, which were quite ripe and growing in great numbers. "Oh, what a nice surprise for my brothers!" she said, and set to work gathering as many as she could. Three large leaves were spread on the top of a small rock which served as a table, and when the boys awoke, they were called to partake of the feast. A merry little party they were. And now, having finished their repast by taking a drink of milk from the old woman's bottle, no more time must be lost, Nanny was told to take her seat, and, the dog being laid at her feet, they again set out. The sun was sinking lower and lower in the bright sky, till at length it vanished below the horizon. And now the next question was, where they should sleep? Should they go on to the next village, and beg a night's lodging? For money they had none wherewith to pay for one. "No, no," cried little Nanny, quite in love with the pretty green wood: "let us make this our home for the night; the stars will be our lamps, the moss and flowers our pillow, and the little birds will sing us asleep." She clapped her hands with joy at the thought. The boys were not unwilling to agree to this proposal, and having drawn the cart under a large oak-tree, they all knelt down upon the grass, and Toni prayed aloud. "Our Father in heaven, we thank Thee for having brought us in safety so far; we thank Thee for giving us food when we were hungry. We are sure Thou wilt be with us in the darkness, and Thou wilt hold Thine hand over us, and not let any wild beast or snake come near to hurt us. Please cover Nanny, that the night dew may not give her cold: do, good God, for Thou knowest she is not strong, and we would like to take her quite well to grandfather. Hear us for Jesus' sake. Amen." They rose from their knees, and oh! how full of delight Nanny was! for around on every side, both on the ground and flying about among the bushes, were numbers of the most brilliant sparks; I am sure if she had tried she could not have counted them. "Toni! Hans! look," she exclaimed. "Are these stars? But stars, I am sure, never live in the grass. What can they be?" "They are glow-worms and fireflies," said Toni, and explained to her how that by day they looked brown and ugly, and it was only in the darkness they were so bright. We see Nanny was not without reason in likening these fireflies to stars. She entreated her brothers to catch some of them, that she might hold them in her hand; and they soon collected several, and put them in her hair, so that she looked as if crowned with a wreath of stars. It was now night, and, under the dim light of a half-moon, the children, weary with the previous day's exertion, lay down to rest. Nanny's starry crown soon disappeared; nightingales struck up their thrilling notes, crickets chirped, soft airs whispered among the trees, little birds, with their heads under their wings, roosted in the boughs overhead, and the children soon fell fast asleep, safe under their Heavenly Father's protection. It was bright daylight ere the little ones opened their eyes. They soon recollected themselves, for at first they looked about, wondering where they were, and having risen and breakfasted on bread and honey, with a drink of milk, were not long in setting off again on their travels. So far we have followed them. They had escaped without discovery, their daily wants had been supplied, and they trusted to be before long happy with their grandfather. We shall not, however, be surprised to hear that, while they had been peacefully pursuing their way, there had been no small stir in their uncle's house. When he found the children missing, he was almost beside himself with rage. What now would become of all his fine dreams for the future? They had already helped to fill his purse with gold, and he looked forward greedily to more gains in time to come. Find them he must. Inquiries were made in every direction, advertisements put in the public papers, bills pasted on the walls, police put on the search. What would he not do to get them back again? He himself drove out to the country; fortunately, however, or rather God so ordered it, he took the opposite direction to that which the children had taken. Three days had passed, and the boys were beginning to be very weary and footsore. In the evening they were wondering what to do, and where to go for the night, when they saw a large number of gentlemen and servants on horseback coming towards them. It was a hunting party returning home. "Hallo! hallo!" cried one of them; "here's some fine game. Why, these must be the runaway children about whom there has been such a hue and cry in Vienna. Hold! stop! you are caught," he continued, addressing himself to the terrified little ones. "Come away with us, and to-morrow we will send you home." Nanny clasped her hands, and bursting into a flood of tears, exclaimed, "Please, sir, oh, please not to send us back to uncle!" and Hans, trembling in every limb, begged them to have pity. Toni was the only one of the three who remained calm, saying in a cheerful voice to his sister, "Do not be frightened, Nanny; the good God knows all." By this time the rest of the party had come up, and among them a tall, elderly man with white hair, who smiled kindly on the children, and directed one of his servants to take them to the castle. They were accordingly lifted on to a truck that was conveying the game, the result of the day's sport; their own little cart was slung on behind; and so they arrived at a beautiful house standing in a large park. Nanny and Hans, sobbing bitterly, with their little arms round one another, were seated on a roebuck. Toni, sitting opposite, looked so smiling, trying in his own quiet way to comfort them, that they at length began to look brighter and dried their tears. When they arrived the castle was brilliantly lighted. The children were lifted down and led into a large hall, where a number of ladies were assembled, waiting to receive the party, who had been away since early morning. As you may imagine, great was the astonishment when the little ones were brought in, and many questions were put to them; but it was not till the arrival of the gentlemen that they understood what it all meant. When they were at length joined by the lord of the castle, he went up to the children, and, looking kindly at them, endeavoured to gain their confidence. He began by gently inquiring the cause of their leaving their uncle's house. "Was he unkind to you?" he asked. "Not exactly, sir," quickly replied the little girl; "but I danced till I could dance no longer. I felt as if I was going to die." "It is all true, sir," said Hans. "Toni and I were afraid we should lose our little sister." "I am sure it was God's will we should try and save her," interrupted Toni. "It was _God's will_? How did you know that, little one?" "Why, sir, it must have been God who put a thought into my mind that I ought to get her away. When uncle would make her dance, dance till she fell down and did not know anything, and looked so pale, I thought she was dead. Then I know He must have helped us to make the little cart, and to keep it hidden so that uncle did not see it; and He has led us the right way, and given us food to eat when we were hungry." "Who taught you all that, my boy?" "Nobody, sir," answered Toni; "only father and mother used to talk about God ordering everything, and told us to remember, and that perhaps some day we should see it for ourselves." "Who were your parents?" asked the gentleman, much interested. "I can hardly tell you; but they were God's children, for they called Him Father." "But what was your father? That was what I meant. What did he do?" "Well, sir, in the morning he came and woke us and gave us a kiss, and when we were dressed, he read to us out of the big book; after breakfast he went out to teach music, I think, and when he came home he taught us to read and write: that was what he did." "Did your father not leave you anything?" "Leave us anything?" said the boy thoughtfully. "I heard him say once to mother when he was ill, `If we die we shall have nothing to leave them, but God will be their friend.'" "Was it your father's wish that you should live with your uncle?" "I never heard him say so; but he was talking to mother one day, and he said grandfather was a good old man, and could teach us to be good, and then he went on, `My brother is a wild fellow, but the Lord will be with them and will do for them what is best.'" "And do you think you will be able to reach your grandfather's home after all?" "Yes, sir, indeed I do." "But we must send you back to your uncle--at least, so the police say-- and what then?" "No one can send us back unless it is God's will we should go: father said He is stronger than men." "But how will God hinder it?" "That I cannot tell. He has promised to help those who call upon Him, and what He promises He is sure to do; mother taught us that." All who were standing round the children were touched by the simple faith of this young boy, and the gentleman was silent for a moment, while a tear came into his eye. Then he said, "The Saviour's words come home to me with fresh force, `Except ye become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.'" The children were then put under the housekeeper's charge, who gave them a good supper, of which they were much in need. The pretty and comfortable beds were not less welcome, where they slept soundly till long after the sun had risen. At this house our little friends remained till matters were arranged with their uncle. Letters were dispatched telling him they had been found. He was very unwilling to give them up; but at last all obstacles were removed, and their grandfather's address having been procured, they were in due time sent to him under charge of a faithful servant. No doubt the old man gave them a hearty welcome. We can tell you little farther about them, but we know they helped to cheer his old age. They did what they could to lighten his cares; Nanny learnt to play skilfully on the harp, so that in course of time, when her grandfather's eyesight failed, she was able to fill his place. When the young people were out at any time on errands or work, and their grandfather was left alone, the trusty Pomeranian they had named "Caesar" remained in the house as his companion; and when the old man became feeble, and had to rest often in bed, the faithful creature slept at his feet, keeping kindly watch over his aged master. Nor must I forget to add that twice every year, at Christmas and Easter, one of the servants was sent from the castle (though it was a long way distant) with a large basket of provisions. With what delight, you may imagine, the hamper was opened and the contents, one by one, taken out! In autumn, too, when the fruit was ripe, some grapes and peaches occasionally found their way to the humble cottage-home. I think I cannot better conclude this story than by telling you that when the good old man was dying, Nanny was found with her harp at his bedside, playing one of the Tyrolese hymns about "the glories of Heaven." The old man listened in rapture, with his hands clasped, till he entered its Golden Gates.--_Translated from the German_. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The End. 
12428	----	Proofreaders. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr. THE HISTORY OF THE RISE, PROGRESS, AND ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE ABOLITION OF THE AFRICAN SLAVE-TRADE BY THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT. BY THOMAS CLARKSON, M.A. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: 1808. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM, LORD GRENVILLE, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES, EARL GREY, (LATE VISCOUNT HOWICK), THE RIGHT HONOURABLE FRANCIS, EARL MOIRA, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE GEORGE JOHN, EARL SPENCER, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY RICHARD, LORD HOLLAND, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS, LORD ERSKINE, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDWARD, LORD ELLENBOROUGH, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HENRY PETTY, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, THOMAS GRENVILLE, NINE OUT OF TWELVE OF HIS MAJESTY'S LATE CABINET MINISTERS, TO WHOSE WISE AND VIRTUOUS ADMINISTRATION BELONGS THE UNPARALLELED AND ETERNAL GLORY OF THE ANNIHILATION (AS FAR AS THEIR POWER EXTENDED) OF ONE OF THE GREATEST SOURCES OF CRIMES AND SUFFERINGS, EVER RECORDED IN THE ANNALS OF MANKIND; AND TO THE MEMORIES OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM PITT, AND OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES JAMES FOX, UNDER WHOSE FOSTERING INFLUENCE THE GREAT WORK WAS BEGUN AND PROMOTED, THIS HISTORY OF THE RISE, PROGRESS, AND ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE TRADE IS RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED. CHAPTER I. _No subject more pleasing than that of the removal of evils--Evils have existed almost from the beginning of the world--but there is a power in our nature to counteract them--this power increased by Christianity--of the evils removed by Christianity one of the greatest is the Slave-trade--The joy we ought to feel on its abolition from a contemplation of the nature of it--and of the extent of it--and of the difficulty of subduing it--Usefulness also of the contemplation of this subject_. I scarcely know of any subject, the contemplation of which, is more pleasing than that of the correction or of the removal of any of the acknowledged evils of life; for while we rejoice to think that the sufferings of our fellow-creatures have been thus, in any instance, relieved, we must rejoice equally to think that our own moral condition must have been necessarily improved by the change. That evils, both physical and moral, have existed long upon earth there can be no doubt. One of the sacred writers, to whom we more immediately appeal for the early history of mankind, informs us that the state of our first parents was a state of innocence and happiness; but that, soon after their creation, sin and misery entered into the world. The Poets in their fables, most of which, however extravagant they may seem, had their origin in truth, speak the same language. Some of these represent the first condition of man by the figure of the golden, and his subsequent degeneracy and subjection to suffering by that of the silver, and afterwards of the iron, age. Others tell us that the first female was made of clay; that she was called Pandora, because every necessary gift, qualification, or endowment, was given to her by the Gods, but that she received from Jupiter at the same time, a box, from which, when opened, a multitude of disorders sprung, and that these spread themselves immediately afterwards among all of the human race. Thus it appears, whatever authorities we consult, that those which may be termed the evils of life existed in the earliest times. And what does subsequent history, combined with our own experience, tell us, but that these have been continued, or that they have come down, in different degrees, through successive generations of men, in all the known countries of the universe, to the present day? But though the inequality visible in the different conditions of life, and the passions interwoven into our nature, (both which have been allotted to us for wise purposes, and without which we could not easily afford a proof of the existence of that which is denominated virtue,) have a tendency to produce vice and wretchedness among us, yet we see in this our constitution what may operate partially as preventives and correctives of them. If there be a radical propensity in our nature to do that which is wrong, there is on the other hand a counteracting power within it, or an impulse, by means of the action of the Divine Spirit upon our minds, which urges us to do that which is right. If the voice of temptation, clothed in musical and seducing accents, charms us one way, the voice of holiness, speaking to us from within in a solemn and powerful manner, commands us another. Does one man obtain a victory over his corrupt affections? an immediate perception of pleasure, like the feeling of a reward divinely conferred upon him, is noticed.--Does another fall prostrate beneath their power? a painful feeling, and such as pronounces to him the sentence of reproof and punishment, is found to follow.--If one, by suffering his heart to become hardened, oppresses a fellow-creature, the tear of sympathy starts up in the eye of another, and the latter instantly feels a desire, involuntarily generated, of flying to his relief. Thus impulses, feelings, and dispositions have been implanted in our nature for the purpose of preventing and rectifying the evils of life. And as these have operated so as to stimulate some men to lessen them by the exercise of an amiable charity, so they have operated to stimulate others, in various other ways, to the same end. Hence the philosopher has left moral precepts behind him in favour of benevolence, and the legislator has endeavoured to prevent barbarous practices by the introduction of laws. In consequence then of these impulses and feelings, by which the pure power in our nature is thus made to act as a check upon the evil part of it, and in consequence of the influence which philosophy and legislative wisdom have had in their respective provinces, there has been always, in all times and countries, a counteracting energy, which has opposed itself more or less to the crimes and miseries of mankind. But it seems to have been reserved for Christianity to increase this energy, and to give it the widest possible domain. It was reserved for her, under the same Divine Influence, to give the best views of the nature, and of the present and future condition of man; to afford the best moral precepts, to communicate the most benign stimulus to the heart, to produce the most blameless conduct, and thus to cut off many of the causes of wretchedness, and to heal it wherever it was found. At her command, wherever she has been duly acknowledged, many of the evils of life have already fled. The prisoner of war is no longer led into the amphitheatre to become a gladiator, and to imbrue his hands in the blood of his fellow-captive for the sport of a thoughtless multitude. The stern priest, cruel through fanaticism and custom, no longer leads his fellow-creature to the altar, to sacrifice him to fictitious Gods. The venerable martyr, courageous through faith and the sanctity of his life, is no longer hurried to the flames. The haggard witch, poring over her incantations by moon-light, no longer scatters her superstitious poison among her miserable neighbours, nor suffers for her crime. But in whatever way Christianity may have operated towards the increase of this energy, or towards a diminution of human misery, it has operated in none more powerfully than by the new views, and consequent duties, which it introduced on the subject of charity, or practical benevolence and love. Men in ancient times looked upon their talents, of whatever description, as their own, which they might use or cease to use at their discretion. But the author of our religion was the first who taught that, however in a legal point of view the talent of individuals might belong exclusively to themselves, so that no other person had a right to demand the use of it by force, yet in the Christian dispensation they were but the stewards of it for good; that so much was expected from this stewardship, that it was difficult for those who were entrusted with it to enter into his spiritual kingdom; that these had no right to conceal their talent in a napkin; but that they were bound to dispense a portion of it to the relief of their fellow-creatures; and that in proportion to the magnitude of it they were accountable for the extensiveness of its use. He was the first, who pronounced the misapplication of it to be a crime, and to be a crime of no ordinary dimension. He was the first who broke down the boundary between Jew and Gentile, and therefore the first, who pointed out to men the inhabitants of other countries for the exercise of their philanthropy and love. Hence a distinction is to be made both in the principle and practice of charity, as existing in ancient or in modern times. Though the old philosophers, historians, and poets, frequently inculcated benevolence, we have no reason to conclude from any facts they have left us, that persons in their days did any thing more than occasionally relieve an unfortunate object, who might present himself before them, or that, however they might deplore the existence of public evils among them, they joined in associations for their suppression, or that they carried their charity, as bodies of men, into other kingdoms. To Christianity alone we are indebted for the new and sublime spectacle of seeing men going beyond the bounds of individual usefulness to each other--of seeing them associate for the extirpation of private and public misery--and of seeing them carry their charity, as a united brotherhood, into distant lands. And in this wider field of benevolence it would be unjust not to confess, that no country has shone with more true lustre than our own, there being scarcely any case of acknowledged affliction for which some of her Christian children have not united in an attempt to provide relief. Among the evils, corrected or subdued, either by the general influence of Christianity on the minds of men, or by particular associations of Christians, the African[A] Slave-trade appears to me to have occupied the foremost place. The abolition of it, therefore, of which it has devolved upon me to write the history, should be accounted as one of the greatest blessings, and, as such, should be one of the most copious sources of our joy. Indeed I know of no evil, the removal of which should excite in us a higher degree of pleasure. For in considerations of this kind, are we not usually influenced by circumstances? Are not our feelings usually affected according to the situation, or the magnitude, or the importance of these? Are they not more or less elevated as the evil under our contemplation has been more or less productive of misery, or more or less productive of guilt? Are they not more or less elevated, again, as we have found it more or less considerable in extent? Our sensations will undoubtedly be in proportion to such circumstances, or our joy to the appretiation or mensuration of the evil which has been removed. [Footnote A: Slavery had been before annihilated by Christianity, I mean in the West of Europe, at the close of the twelfth century.] To value the blessing of the abolition as we ought, or to appretiate the joy and gratitude which we ought to feel concerning it, we must enter a little into the circumstances of the trade. Our statement, however, of these needs not be long. A few pages will do all that is necessary! A glance only into such a subject as this will be sufficient to affect the heart--to arouse our indignation and our pity,--and to teach us the importance of the victory obtained. The first subject for consideration, towards enabling us to make the estimate in question, will be that of the nature of the evil belonging to the Slave-trade. This may be seen by examining it in three points of view:--First, As it has been proved to arise on the continent of Africa in the course of reducing the inhabitants of it to slavery;--Secondly, in the course of conveying them from thence to the lands or colonies of other nations;--And Thirdly, In continuing them there as slaves. To see it as it has been shown to arise in the first case, let us suppose ourselves on the Continent just mentioned. Well then--We are landed--We are already upon our travels--We have just passed through one forest--We are now come to a more open place, which indicates an approach to habitation. And what object is that, which first obtrudes itself upon our sight? Who is that wretched woman, whom we discover under that noble tree, wringing her hands, and beating her breast, as if in the agonies of despair? Three days has she been there at intervals to look and to watch, and this is the fourth morning, and no tidings of her children yet. Beneath its spreading boughs they were accustomed to play--But alas! the savage man-stealer interrupted their playful mirth, and has taken them for ever from her sight. But let us leave the cries of this unfortunate woman, and hasten into another district:--And what do we first see here? Who is he, that just now started across the narrow pathway, as if afraid of a human face? What is that sudden rustling among the leaves? Why are those persons flying from our approach, and hiding themselves in yon darkest thicket? Behold, as we get into the plain, a deserted village! The rice-field has been just trodden down around it. An aged man, venerable by his silver beard, lies wounded and dying near the threshold of his hut. War, suddenly instigated by avarice, has just visited the dwellings which we see. The old have been butchered, because unfit for slavery, and the young have been carried off, except such as have fallen in the conflict, or have escaped among the woods behind us. But let us hasten from this cruel scene, which gives rise to so many melancholy reflections. Let us cross yon distant river, and enter into some new domain. But are we relieved even here from afflicting spectacles? Look at that immense crowd, which appears to be gathered in a ring. See the accused innocent in the middle. The ordeal of poisonous water has been administered to him, as a test of his innocence or his guilt. He begins to be sick, and pale. Alas! yon mournful shriek of his relatives confirms that the loss of his freedom is now sealed. And whither shall we go now? The night is approaching fast. Let us find some friendly hut, where sleep may make us forget for a while the sorrows of the day. Behold a hospitable native ready to receive us at his door! Let us avail ourselves of his kindness. And now let us give ourselves to repose. But why, when our eyelids are but just closed, do we find ourselves thus suddenly awakened? What is the meaning of the noise around us, of the trampling of people's feet, of the rustling of the bow, the quiver, and the lance? Let us rise up and inquire. Behold! the inhabitants are all alarmed! A wakeful woman has shown them yon distant column of smoke and blaze. The neighbouring village is on fire. The prince, unfaithful to the sacred duty of the protection of his subjects, has surrounded them. He is now burning their habitations, and seizing, as saleable booty, the fugitives from the flames. Such then are some of the scenes that have been passing in Africa in consequence of the existence of the Slave-trade; or such is the nature of the evil, as it has shown itself in the first of the cases we have noticed. Let us now estimate it as it has been proved to exist in the second; or let us examine the state of the unhappy Africans, reduced to slavery in this manner, while on board the vessels, which are to convey them across the ocean to other lands. And here I must observe at once, that, as far as this part of the evil is concerned, I am at a loss to describe it. Where shall I find words to express properly their sorrow, as arising from the reflection of being parted for ever from their friends, their relatives, and their country? Where shall I find language to paint in appropriate colours the horror of mind brought on by thoughts of their future unknown destination, of which they can augur nothing but misery from all that they have yet seen? How shall I make known their situation, while labouring under painful disease, or while struggling in the suffocating holds of their prisons, like animals inclosed in an exhausted receiver? How shall I describe their feelings, as exposed to all the personal indignities, which lawless appetite or brutal passion may suggest? How shall I exhibit their sufferings as determining to refuse sustenance and die, or as resolving to break their chains, and, disdaining to live as slaves, to punish their oppressors? How shall I give an idea of their agony, when under various punishments and tortures for their reputed crimes? Indeed every part of this subject defies my powers, and I must therefore satisfy myself and the reader with a general representation, or in the words of a celebrated member of Parliament, that "Never was so much human suffering condensed in so small a space." I come now to the evil, as it has been proved to arise in the third case; or to consider the situation of the unhappy victims of the trade, when their painful voyages are over, or after they have been landed upon their destined shores. And here we are to view them first under the degrading light of cattle. We are to see them examined, handled, selected, separated, and sold. Alas! relatives are separated from relatives, as if, like cattle, they had no rational intellect, no power of feeling the nearness of relationship, nor sense of the duties belonging to the ties of life! We are next to see them labouring, and this for the benefit of those, to whom they are under no obligation, by any law either natural or divine, to obey. We are to see them, if refusing the commands of their purchasers, however weary, or feeble, or indisposed, subject to corporal punishments, and, if forcibly resisting them, to death. We are to see them in a state of general degradation and misery. The knowledge, which their oppressors have of their own crime in having violated the rights of nature, and of the disposition of the injured to seek all opportunities of revenge, produces a fear, which dictates to them the necessity of a system of treatment by which they shall keep up a wide distinction between the two, and by which the noble feelings of the latter shall be kept down, and their spirits broken. We are to see them again subject to individual persecution, as anger, or malice, or any bad passion may suggest. Hence the whip--the chain--the iron-collar. Hence the various modes of private torture, of which so many accounts have been truly given. Nor can such horrible cruelties be discovered so as to be made punishable, while the testimony of any number of the oppressed is invalid against the oppressors, however they may be offences against the laws. And, lastly, we are to see their innocent offspring, against whose personal liberty the shadow of an argument cannot be advanced, inheriting all the miseries of their parents' lot. The evil then, as far as it has been hitherto viewed, presents to us in its three several departments a measure of human suffering not to be equalled--not to be calculated--not to be described. But would that we could consider this part of the subject as dismissed! Would that in each of the departments now examined there was no counterpart left us to contemplate! But this cannot be. For if there be persons, who suffer unjustly, there must be others, who oppress. And if there be those who oppress, there must be to the suffering, which has been occasioned, a corresponding portion of immorality or guilt. We are obliged then to view the counterpart of the evil in question, before we can make a proper estimate of the nature of it. And, in examining this part of it, we shall find that we have a no less frightful picture to behold than in the former cases; or that, while the miseries endured by the unfortunate Africans excite our pity on the one hand, the vices, which are connected with them, provoke our indignation and abhorrence on the other. The Slave-trade, in this point of view, must strike us as an immense mass of evil on account of the criminality attached to it, as displayed in the various branches of it, which have already been examined. For, to take the counterpart of the evil in the first of these, can we say, that no moral turpitude is to be placed to the account of those, who living on the continent of Africa give birth to the enormities, which take place in consequence of the prosecution of this trade? Is not that man made morally worse, who is induced to become a tiger to his species, or who, instigated by avarice, lies in wait in the thicket to get possession of his fellow-man? Is no injustice manifest in the land, where the prince, unfaithful to his duty, seizes his innocent subjects, and sells them for slaves? Are no moral evils produced among those communities, which make war upon other communities for the sake of plunder, and without any previous provocation or offence? Does no crime attach to those, who accuse others falsely, or who multiply and divide crimes for the sake of the profit of the punishment, and who for the same reason, continue the use of barbarous and absurd ordeals as a test of innocence or guilt? In the second of these branches the counterpart of the evil is to be seen in the conduct of those, who purchase the miserable natives in their own country, and convey them to distant lands. And here questions, similar to the former, may be asked. Do they experience no corruption of their nature, or become chargeable with no violation of right, who, when they go with their ships to this continent, know the enormities which their visits there will occasion, who buy their fellow-creature man, and this, knowing the way in which he comes into their hands, and who chain, and imprison, and scourge him? Do the moral feelings of those persons escape without injury, whose hearts are hardened? And can the hearts of those be otherwise than hardened, who are familiar with the tears and groans of innocent strangers forcibly torn away from every thing that is dear to them in life, who are accustomed to see them on board their vessels in a state of suffocation and in the agonies of despair, and who are themselves in the habits of the cruel use of arbitrary power? The counterpart of the evil in its third branch is to be seen in the conduct of those, who, when these miserable people have been landed, purchase and carry them to their respective homes. And let us see whether a mass of wickedness is not generated also in the present case. Can those have nothing to answer for, who separate the faithful ties which nature and religion have created? Can their feelings be otherwise than corrupted, who consider their fellow-creatures as brutes, or treat those as cattle, who may become the temples of the Holy Spirit, and in whom the Divinity disdains not himself to dwell? Is there no injustice in forcing men to labour without wages? Is there no breach of duty, when we are commanded to clothe the naked, and feed the hungry, and visit the sick and in prison, in exposing them to want, in torturing them by cruel punishment, and in grinding them down, by hard labour, so as to shorten their days? Is there no crime in adopting a system, which keeps down all the noble faculties of their souls, and which positively debases and corrupts their nature? Is there no crime in perpetuating these evils among their innocent offspring? And finally, besides all these crimes, is there not naturally in the familiar sight of the exercise, but more especially in the exercise itself, of uncontrolled power, that which vitiates the internal man? In seeing misery stalk daily over the land, do not all become insensibly hardened? By giving birth to that misery themselves, do they not become abandoned? In what state of society are the corrupt appetites so easily, so quickly, and so frequently indulged, and where else, by means of frequent indulgence, do these experience such a monstrous growth? Where else is the temper subject to such frequent irritation, or passion to such little control? Yes--If the unhappy slave is in an unfortunate situation, so is the tyrant who holds him. Action and reaction are equal to each other, as well in the moral as in the natural world. You cannot exercise an improper dominion over a fellow-creature, but by a wise ordering of Providence you must necessarily injure yourself. Having now considered the nature of the evil of the Slave-trade in its three separate departments of suffering, and in its corresponding counterparts of guilt, I shall make a few observations on the extent of it. On this subject it must strike us, that the misery and the crimes included in the evil, as it has been found in Africa, were not like common maladies, which make a short or periodical visit and then are gone, but that they were continued daily. Nor were they like diseases, which from local causes attack a village or a town, and by the skill of the physician, under the blessing of Providence, are removed, but they affected a whole continent. The trade with all its horrors began at the river Senegal, and continued, winding with the coast, through its several geographical divisions to Cape Negro; a distance of more than three thousand miles. In various lines or paths formed at right angles from the shore, and passing into the heart of the country, slaves were procured and brought down. The distance, which many of them travelled, was immense. Those, who have been in Africa, have assured us, that they came as far as from the sources of their largest rivers, which we know to be many hundred miles in-land, and the natives have told us, in their way of computation, that they came a journey of many moons. It must strike us again, that the misery and the crimes, included in the evil, as it has been shown in the transportation, had no ordinary bounds. They were not to be seen in the crossing of a river, but of an ocean. They did not begin in the morning and end at night, but were continued for many weeks, and sometimes by casualties for a quarter of the year. They were not limited to the precincts of a solitary ship, but were spread among many vessels; and these were so constantly passing, that the ocean itself never ceased to be a witness of their existence. And it must strike us finally, that the misery and crimes, included in the evil as it has been found in foreign lands, were not confined within the shores of a little island. Most of the islands of a continent, and many of these of considerable population and extent, were filled with them. And the continent itself, to which these geographically belong, was widely polluted by their domain. Hence, if we were to take the vast extent of space occupied by these crimes and sufferings from the heart of Africa to its shores, and that which they filled on the continent of America and the islands adjacent, and were to join the crimes and sufferings in one to those in the other by the crimes and sufferings which took place in the track of the vessels successively crossing the Atlantic, we should behold a vast belt as it were of physical and moral evil, reaching through land and ocean to the length of nearly half the circle of the globe. The next view, which I shall take of this evil, will be as it relates to the difficulty of subduing it. This difficulty may be supposed to have been more than ordinarily great. Many evils of a public nature, which existed in former times, were the offspring of ignorance and superstition, and they were subdued of course by the progress of light and knowledge. But the evil in question began in avarice. It was nursed also by worldly interest. It did not therefore so easily yield to the usual correctives of disorders in the world. We may observe also, that the interest by which it was thus supported, was not that of a few individuals, nor of one body, but of many bodies of men. It was interwoven again into the system of the commerce and of the revenue of nations. Hence the merchant--the planter--the mortgagee--the manufacturer--the politician--the legislator--the cabinet-minister--lifted up their voices against the annihilation of it. For these reasons the Slave-trade may be considered, like the fabulous hydra, to have had a hundred heads, every one of which it was necessary to cut off before it could be subdued. And as none but Hercules was fitted to conquer the one, so nothing less than extraordinary prudence, courage, labour, and patience, could overcome the other. To protection in this manner by his hundred interests it was owing, that the monster stalked in security for so long a time. He stalked too in the open day, committing his mighty depredations. And when good men, whose duty it was to mark him as the object of their destruction, began to assail him, he did not fly, but gnashed his teeth at them, growling savagely at the same time, and putting himself into a posture of defiance. We see then, in whatever light we consider the Slave-trade, whether we examine into the nature of it, or whether we look into the extent of it, or whether we estimate the difficulty of subduing it, we must conclude that no evil more monstrous has ever existed upon earth. But if so, then we have proved the truth of the position, that the abolition of it ought to be accounted by us as one of the greatest blessings, and that it ought to be one of the most copious sources of our joy. Indeed I do not know, how we can sufficiently express what we ought to feel upon this occasion. It becomes us as individuals to rejoice. It becomes us as a nation to rejoice. It becomes us even to perpetuate our joy to our posterity. I do not mean however by anniversaries, which are to be celebrated by the ringing of bells and convivial meetings, but by handing down this great event so impressively to our children, as to raise in them, if not continual, yet frequently renewed thanksgivings, to the great Creator of the universe, for the manifestation of this his favour, in having disposed our legislators to take away such a portion of suffering from our fellow-creatures, and such a load of guilt from our native land. And as the contemplation of the removal of this monstrous evil should excite in us the most pleasing and grateful sensations, so the perusal of the history of it should afford us lessons, which it must be useful to us to know or to be reminded of. For it cannot be otherwise than useful to us to know the means which have been used, and the different persons who have moved, in so great a cause. It cannot be otherwise than useful to us to be impressively reminded of the simple axiom, which the perusal of this history will particularly suggest to us, that "the greatest works must have a beginning;" because the fostering of such an idea in our minds cannot but encourage us to undertake the removal of evils, however vast they may appear in their size, or however difficult to overcome. It cannot again be otherwise than useful to us to be assured (and this history will assure us of it) that in any work, which is a work of righteousness, however small the beginning may be, or however small the progress may be that we may make in it, we ought never to despair; for that, whatever checks and discouragements we may meet with, "no virtuous effort is ever ultimately lost." And finally, it cannot be otherwise than useful to us to form the opinion, which the contemplation of this subject must always produce, namely, that many of the evils, which are still left among us, may, by an union of wise and virtuous individuals, be greatly alleviated, if not entirely done away: for if the great evil of the Slave-trade, so deeply entrenched by its hundred interests, has fallen prostrate before the efforts of those who attacked it, what evil of a less magnitude shall not be more easily subdued? O may reflections of this sort always enliven us, always encourage us, always stimulate us to our duty! May we never cease to believe, that many of the miseries of life are still to be remedied, or to rejoice that we may be permitted, if we will only make ourselves worthy by our endeavours, to heal them! May we encourage for this purpose every generous sympathy that arises in our hearts, as the offspring of the Divine influence for our good, convinced that we are not born for ourselves alone, and that the Divinity never so fully dwells in us, as when we do his will; and that we never do his will more agreeably, as far as it has been revealed to us, than when we employ our time in works of charity towards the rest of our fellow-creatures! CHAPTER II. _As it is desirable to know the true sources of events in history, so this will be realized in that of the abolition of the Slave-trade--Inquiry as to those who favoured the cause of the Africans previously to the year 1787--All these to be considered as necessary forerunners in that cause--First forerunners were Cardinal Ximenes--the Emperor Charles the Fifth--Pope Leo the Tenth--Elizabeth queen of England--Louis the Thirteenth of France._ It would be considered by many, who have stood at the mouth of a river, and witnessed its torrent there, to be both an interesting and a pleasing journey to go to the fountain-head, and then to travel on its banks downwards, and to mark the different streams in each side, which should run into it and feed it. So I presume the reader will not be a little interested and entertained in viewing with me the course of the abolition of the Slave-trade, in first finding its source, and then in tracing the different springs which have contributed to its increase. And here I may observe that, in doing this, we shall have advantages, which historians have not always had in developing the causes of things. Many have handed down to us events, for the production of which they have given us but their own conjectures. There has been often indeed such a distance between the events themselves and the lives of those who have recorded them, that the different means and motives belonging to them have been lost through time. On the present occasion, however, we shall have the peculiar satisfaction of knowing that we communicate the truth, or that those, which we unfold, are the true causes and means. For the most remote of all the human springs, which can be traced as having any bearing upon the great event in question, will fall within the period of three centuries, and the most powerful of them within the last twenty years. These circumstances indeed have had their share in inducing me to engage in the present history. Had I measured it by the importance of the subject, I had been deterred: but believing that most readers love the truth, and that it ought to be the object of all writers to promote it, and believing moreover, that I was in possession of more facts on this subject than any other person, I thought I was peculiarly called upon to undertake it. In tracing the different streams from whence the torrent arose, which has now happily swept away the Slave-trade, I must begin with an inquiry as to those who favoured the cause of the injured Africans from the year 1516 to the year 1787, at which latter period a number of persons associated themselves in England for its abolition. For though they, who belonged to this association, may, in consequence of having pursued a regular system, be called the principal actors, yet it must be acknowledged that their efforts would never have been so effectual, if the minds of men had not been prepared by others, who had moved before them. Great events have never taken place without previously disposing causes. So it is in the case before us. Hence they, who lived even in early times, and favoured this great cause, may be said to have been necessary precursors in it. And here it may be proper to observe, that it is by no means necessary that all these should have been themselves actors in the production of this great event. Persons have contributed towards it in different ways:--Some have written expressly on the subject, who have had no opportunity of promoting it by personal exertions. Others have only mentioned it incidentally in their writings. Others, in an elevated rank and station, have cried out publicly concerning it, whose sayings have been recorded. All these, however, may be considered as necessary forerunners in their day. For all of them have brought the subject more or less into notice. They have more or less enlightened the mind upon it. They have more or less impressed it. And therefore each may be said to have had his share in diffusing and keeping up a certain portion of knowledge, and feeling concerning it, which has been eminently useful in the promotion of the cause. It is rather remarkable, that the first forerunners and coadjutors should have been men in power. So early as in the year 1503 a few slaves had been sent from the Portuguese settlements in Africa into the Spanish colonies in America. In 1511, Ferdinand the Fifth, king of Spain, permitted them to be carried in greater numbers. Ferdinand, however, must have been ignorant in these early times of the piratical manner in which the Portuguese had procured them. He could have known nothing of their treatment when in bondage, nor could he have viewed the few uncertain adventurous transportations of them into his dominions in the western world, in the light of a regular trade. After his death, however, a proposal was made by Bartholomew de las Casas, the bishop of Chiapa, to Cardinal Ximenes, who held the reins of the government of Spain till Charles the Fifth came to the throne, for the establishment of a regular system of commerce in the persons of the native Africans. The object of Bartholomew de las Casas was undoubtedly to save the American Indians, whose cruel treatment and almost extirpation he had witnessed during his residence among them, and in whose behalf he had undertaken a voyage to the court of Spain. It is difficult to reconcile this proposal with the humane and charitable spirit of the bishop of Chiapa. But it is probable he believed that a code of laws would soon be established in favour both of Africans and of the natives in the Spanish settlements, and that he flattered himself that, being about to return and to live in the country of their slavery, he could look to the execution of it. The cardinal, however, with a foresight, a benevolence, and a justice, which will always do honour to his memory, refused the proposal, not only judging it to be unlawful to consign innocent people to slavery at all, but to be very inconsistent to deliver the inhabitants of one country from a state of misery by consigning to it those of another. Ximenes therefore may be considered as one of the first great friends of the Africans after the partial beginning of the trade. This answer of the cardinal, as it showed his virtue as an individual, so it was peculiarly honourable to him as a public man, and ought to operate as a lesson to other statesmen, how they admit any thing new among political regulations and establishments, which is connected in the smallest degree with injustice. For evil, when once sanctioned by governments, spreads in a tenfold degree, and may, unless seasonably checked, become so ramified, as to affect the reputation of a country, and to render its own removal scarcely possible without detriment to the political concerns of the state. In no instance has this been verified more than in the case of the Slave-trade. Never was our national character more tarnished, and our prosperity more clouded by guilt. Never was there a monster more difficult to subdue. Even they, who heard as it were the shrieks of oppression, and wished to assist the sufferers, were fearful of joining in their behalf. While they acknowledged the necessity of removing one evil, they were terrified by the prospect of introducing another; and were therefore only able to relieve their feelings, by lamenting in the bitterness of their hearts, that this traffic had ever been begun at all. After the death of cardinal Ximenes, the emperor Charles the Fifth, who had come into power, encouraged the Slave-trade. In 1517 he granted a patent to one of his Flemish favourites, containing an exclusive right of importing four thousand Africans into America. But he lived long enough to repent of what he had thus inconsiderately done. For in the year 1542 he made a code of laws for the better protection of the unfortunate Indians in his foreign dominions; and he stopped the progress of African slavery by an order, that all slaves in his American islands should be made free. This order was executed by Pedro de la Gasca. Manumission took place as well in Hispaniola as on the Continent. But on the return of Gasca to Spain, and the retirement of Charles into a monastery, slavery was revived. It is impossible to pass over this instance of the abolition of slavery by Charles in all his foreign dominions, without some comments. It shows him, first, to have been a friend both to the Indians and the Africans, as a part of the human race. It shows he was ignorant of what he was doing when he gave his sanction to this cruel trade. It shows when legislators give one set of men an undue power over another, how quickly they abuse it,--or he never would have found himself obliged in the short space of twenty-five years to undo that which he had countenanced as a great state-measure. And while it confirms the former lesson to statesmen, of watching the beginnings or principles of things in their political movements, it should teach them never to persist in the support of evils, through the false shame of being obliged to confess that they had once given them their sanction, nor to delay the cure of them because, politically speaking, neither this nor that is the proper season; but to do them away instantly, as there can only be one fit or proper time in the eye of religion, namely, on the conviction of their existence. From the opinions of cardinal Ximenes and of the emperor Charles the Fifth, I hasten to that which was expressed much about the same time, in a public capacity, by pope Leo the Tenth. The Dominicans in Spanish America, witnessing the cruel treatment which the slaves underwent there, considered slavery as utterly repugnant to the principles of the gospel, and recommended the abolition of it. The Franciscans did not favour the former in this their scheme of benevolence; and the consequence was, that a controversy on this subject sprung up between them, which was carried to this pope for his decision. Leo exerted himself, much to his honour, in behalf of the poor sufferers, and declared "That not only the Christian religion, but that Nature herself cried out against a state of slavery." This answer was certainly worthy of one who was deemed the head of the Christian church. It must, however, be confessed that it would have been strange if Leo, in his situation as pontiff, had made a different reply. He could never have denied that God was no respecter of persons. He must have acknowledged that men were bound to love each other as brethren. And, if he admitted the doctrine, that all men were accountable for their actions hereafter, he could never have prevented the deduction, that it was necessary they should be free. Nor could he, as a man of high attainments, living early in the sixteenth century, have been ignorant of what had taken place in the twelfth; or that, by the latter end of this latter century, Christianity had obtained the undisputed honour of having extirpated slavery from the western part of the European world. From Spain and Italy I come to England. The first importation of slaves from Africa by our countrymen was in the reign of Elizabeth, in the year 1562. This great princess seems on the very commencement of the trade to have questioned its lawfulness. She seems to have entertained a religious scruple concerning it, and, indeed, to have revolted at the very thought of it. She seems to have been aware of the evils to which its continuance might lead, or that, if it were sanctioned, the most unjustifiable means might be made use of to procure the persons of the natives of Africa. And in what light she would have viewed any acts of this kind, had they taken place, we may conjecture from this fact,--that when captain (afterwards Sir John) Hawkins returned from his first voyage to Africa and Hispaniola, whither he had carried slaves, she sent for him, and, as we learn from Hill's Naval History, expressed her concern lest any of the Africans should be carried off without their free consent, declaring that "It would be detestable, and call down the vengeance of Heaven upon the undertakers." Captain Hawkins promised to comply with the injunctions of Elizabeth in this respect. But he did not keep his word; for when he went to Africa again, he seized many of the inhabitants and carried them off as slaves, which occasioned Hill, in the account he gives of his second voyage, to use these remarkable words:--"Here began the horrid practice of forcing the Africans into slavery, an injustice and barbarity, which, so sure as there is vengeance in heaven for the worst of crimes, will sometime be the destruction of all who allow or encourage it." That the trade should have been suffered to continue under such a princess, and after such solemn expressions as those which she has been described to have uttered, can be only attributed to the pains taken by those concerned in it to keep her ignorant of the truth. From England I now pass over to France. Labat, a Roman missionary, in his account of the isles of America, mentions, that Louis the Thirteenth was very uneasy when he was about to issue the edict, by which all Africans coming into his colonies were to be made slaves, and that this uneasiness continued, till he was assured, that the introduction of them in this capacity into his foreign dominions was the readiest way of converting them to the principles of the Christian religion. These, then, were the first forerunners in the great cause of the abolition of the Slave-trade. Nor have their services towards it been of small moment. For, in the first place, they have enabled those, who came after them, and who took an active interest in the same cause, to state the great authority of their opinions and of their example. They have enabled them, again, to detail the history connected with these, in consequence of which circumstances have been laid open, which it is of great importance to know. For have they not enabled them to state, that the African Slave-trade never would have been permitted to exist but for the ignorance of those in authority concerning it--That at its commencement there was a revolting of nature against it--a suspicion--a caution--a fear--both as to its unlawfulness and its effects? Have they not enabled them to state, that falsehoods were advanced, and these concealed under the mask of religion, to deceive those who had the power to suppress it? Have they not enabled them to state that this trade began in piracy, and that it was continued upon the principles of force? And, finally, have not they, who have been enabled to make these statements, knowing all the circumstances connected with them, found their own zeal increased and their own courage and perseverance strengthened; and have they not, by the communication of them to others, produced many friends and even labourers in the cause? CHAPTER III. _Forerunners continued to 1787--divided from this time into four classes--First class consists principally of persons in Great Britain of various description--Godwyn--Baxter--Tryon--Southern--Primatt-- Montesquieu--Hutcheson--Sharp--Ramsay--and a multitude of others, whose names and services follow._ I have hitherto traced the history of the forerunners in this great cause only up to about the year 1640. If I am to pursue my plan, I am to trace it to the year 1787. But in order to show what I intend in a clearer point of view, I shall divide those who have lived within this period, and who will now consist of persons in a less elevated station, into four classes: and I shall give to each class a distinct consideration by itself. Several of our old English writers, though they have not mentioned the African Slave-trade, or the slavery consequent upon it, in their respective works, have yet given their testimony of condemnation against both. Thus our great Milton:-- "O execrable son, so to aspire Above his brethren, to himself assuming Authority usurpt, from God not given; He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, Dominion absolute; that right we hold By his donation;--but man over men He made not lord, such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free." I might mention bishop Saunderson and others, who bore a testimony equally strong against the lawfulness of trading in the persons of men, and of holding them in bondage, but as I mean to confine myself to those, who have favoured the cause of the Africans specifically, I cannot admit their names into any of the classes which have been announced. Of those who compose the first class, defined as it has now been, I cannot name any individual who took a part in this cause till between the years 1670 and 1680. For in the year 1640, and for a few years afterwards, the nature of the trade and of the slavery was but little known, except to a few individuals, who were concerned in them; and it is obvious that these would neither endanger their own interest nor proclaim their own guilt by exposing it. The first, whom I shall mention, is Morgan Godwyn, a clergyman of the established church. This pious divine wrote a Treatise upon the subject, which he dedicated to the then archbishop of Canterbury. He gave it to the world, at the time mentioned, under the title of "The Negros and Indians Advocate." In this treatise he lays open the situation of these oppressed people, of whose sufferings he had been an eye-witness in the island of Barbadoes. He calls forth the pity of the reader in an affecting manner, and exposes with a nervous eloquence the brutal sentiments and conduct of their oppressors. This seems to have been the first work undertaken in England expressly in favour of the cause. The next person, whom I shall mention, is Richard Baxter, the celebrated divine among the Nonconformists. In his Christian Directory, published about the same time as the Negros and Indians Advocate, he gives advice to those masters in foreign plantations, who have Negros and other slaves. In this he protests loudly against this trade. He says expressly that they, who go out as pirates, and take away poor Africans, or people of another land, who never forfeited life or liberty, and make them slaves and sell them, are the worst of robbers, and ought to be considered as the common enemies of mankind; and that they, who buy them, and use them as mere beasts for their own convenience, regardless of their spiritual welfare, are fitter to be called demons than Christians. He then proposes several queries, which he answers in a clear and forcible manner, showing the great inconsistency of this traffic, and the necessity of treating those then in bondage with tenderness and a due regard to their spiritual concerns. The Directory of Baxter was succeeded by a publication called "Friendly Advice to the Planters: in three parts." The first of these was, "A brief Treatise of the principal Fruits and Herbs that grow in Barbadoes, Jamaica, and other Plantations in the West Indies." The second was, "The Negros Complaint, or their hard Servitude, and the Cruelties practised upon them by divers of their Masters professing Christianity." And the third was, "A Dialogue between an Ethiopian and a Christian, his Master, in America." In the last of these, Thomas Tryon, who was the author, inveighs both against the commerce and the slavery of the Africans, and in a striking manner examines each by the touchstone of reason, humanity, justice, and religion. In the year 1696, Southern brought forward his celebrated tragedy of Oronooko, by means of which many became enlightened upon the subject, and interested in it. For this tragedy was not a representation of fictitious circumstances, but of such as had occurred in the colonies, and as had been communicated in a publication by Mrs. Behn. The person, who seems to have noticed the subject next was Dr. Primatt. In his "Dissertation on the Duty of Mercy, and on the Sin of Cruelty to Brute-animals," he takes occasion to advert to the subject of the African Slave-trade. "It has pleased God," says he, "to cover some men with white skins and others with black; but as there is neither merit nor demerit in complexion, the white man, notwithstanding the barbarity of custom and prejudice, can have no right by virtue of his colour to enslave and tyrannize over the black man. For whether a man be white or black, such he is by God's appointment, and, abstractedly considered, is neither a subject for pride, nor an object of contempt." After Dr. Primatt, we come to baron Montesquieu. "Slavery," says he, "is not good in itself. It is neither useful to the master nor to the slave. Not to the slave, because he can do nothing from virtuous motives. Not to the master, because he contracts among his slaves all sorts of bad habits, and accustoms himself to the neglect of all the moral virtues. He becomes haughty, passionate, obdurate, vindictive, voluptuous, and cruel." And with respect to this particular species of slavery he proceeds to say, "it is impossible to allow the Negros are men, because, if we allow them to be men, it will begin to be believed that we ourselves are not Christians." Hutcheson, in his System of Moral Philosophy, endeavours to show that he, who detains another by force in slavery, can make no good title to him, and adds, "Strange that in any nation where a sense of liberty prevails, and where the Christian religion is professed, custom and high prospect of gain can so stupefy the consciences of men and all sense of natural justice, that they can hear such computations made about the value of their fellow-men and their liberty without abhorrence and indignation!" Foster, in his Discourses on Natural Religion and Social Virtue, calls the slavery under our consideration "a criminal and outrageous violation of the natural rights of mankind." I am sorry that I have not room to say all that he says on this subject. Perhaps the following beautiful extracts may suffice: "But notwithstanding this, we ourselves, who profess to be Christians, and boast of the peculiar advantages we enjoy by means of an express revelation of our duty from heaven, are in effect these very untaught and rude heathen countries. With all our superior light we instil into those, whom we call savage and barbarous, the most despicable opinion of human nature. We, to the utmost of our power, weaken and dissolve the universal tie, that binds and unites mankind. We practise what we should exclaim against as the utmost excess of cruelty and tyranny, if nations of the world, differing in colour and form of government from ourselves, were so possessed of empire, as to be able to reduce us to a state of unmerited and brutish servitude. Of consequence we sacrifice our reason, our humanity, our christianity, to an unnatural sordid gain. We teach other nations to despise and trample under foot all the obligations of social virtue. We take the most effectual method to prevent the propagation of the gospel, by representing it as a scheme of power and barbarous oppression, and an enemy to the natural privileges and rights of man." "Perhaps all that I have now offered may be of very little weight to restrain this enormity, this aggravated iniquity. However, I shall still have the satisfaction of having entered my private protest against a practice, which, in my opinion, bids that God, who is the God and Father of the Gentiles unconverted to Christianity, most daring and bold defiance, and spurns at all the principles both of natural and revealed religion." The next author is sir Richard Steele, who, by means of the affecting story of Inkle and Yarico, holds up this trade again to our abhorrence. In the year 1735, Atkins, who was a surgeon in the navy, published his Voyage to Guinea, Brazil, and the West-Indies, in his Majesty's ships Swallow and Weymouth. In this work he describes openly the manner of making the natives slaves, such as by kidnapping, by unjust accusations and trials, and by other nefarious means. He states also the cruelties practised upon them by the white people, and the iniquitous ways and dealings of the latter, and answers their argument, by which they insinuated that the condition of the Africans was improved by their transportation to other countries. From this time the trade beginning to be better known, a multitude of persons of various stations and characters sprung up, who by exposing it are to be mentioned among the forerunners and coadjutors in the cause. Pope, in his Essay on Man, where he endeavours to show that happiness in the present depends, among other things, upon the hope of a future state, takes an opportunity of exciting compassion in behalf of the poor African, while he censures the avarice and cruelty of his master: "Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind; His soul proud Science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk, or milky-way; Yet simple Nature to his hope has giv'n Behind the cloud-topt hill an humbler heav'n; Some safer world in depth of woods embrac'd, Some happier island in the watry waste, Where slaves once more their native land behold, No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold." Thomson also, in his Seasons, marks this traffic as destructive and cruel, introducing the well-known fact of sharks following the vessels employed in it; "Increasing still the sorrows of those storms, His jaws horrific arm'd with three-fold fate, Here dwells the direful shark. Lur'd by the scent Of steaming crowds, of rank disease, and death, Behold! he rushing cuts the briny flood, Swift as the gale can bear the ship along, And from the partners of that cruel trade, Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons, Demands his share of prey, demands themselves. The stormy fates descend: one death involves Tyrants and slaves; when straight their mangled limbs Crashing at once, he dyes the purple seas With gore, and riots in the vengeful meal." Neither was Richard Savage forgetful in his poems of the Injured Africans: he warns their oppressors of a day of retribution for their barbarous conduct. Having personified Public Spirit, he makes her speak on the subject in the following manner:-- "Let by my specious name no tyrants rise, And cry, while they enslave, they civilize! Know, Liberty and I are still the same Congenial--ever mingling flame with flame! Why must I Afric's sable children see Vended for slaves, though born by nature free, The nameless tortures cruel minds invent Those to subject whom Nature equal meant? If these you dare (although unjust success Empow'rs you now unpunish'd to oppress), Revolving empire you and yours may doom-- (Rome all subdu'd--yet Vandals vanquish'd Rome) Yes--Empire may revolt--give them the day, And yoke may yoke, and blood may blood repay." Wallis, in his System of the Laws of Scotland, maintains, that "neither men nor governments have a right to sell those of their own species. Men and their liberty are neither purchaseable nor saleable." And, after arguing the case, he says, "This is the law of nature, which is obligatory on all men, at all times, and in all places.--Would not any of us, who should be snatched by pirates from his native land, think himself cruelly abused, and at all times entitled to be free? Have not these unfortunate Africans, who meet with the same cruel fate, the same right? Are they not men as well as we? And have they not the same sensibility? Let us not therefore defend or support an usage, which is contrary to all the laws of humanity." In the year 1750 the reverend Griffith Hughes, rector of St. Lucy, in Barbadoes, published his Natural History of that island. He took an opportunity, in the course of it, of laying open to the world the miserable situation of the poor Africans, and the waste of them by hard labour and other cruel means, and he had the generosity to vindicate their capacities from the charge, which they who held them in bondage brought against them, as a justification of their own wickedness in continuing to deprive them of the rights of men. Edmund Burke, in his account of the European settlements, (for this work is usually attributed to him,) complains "that the Negroes in our colonies endure a slavery more complete, and attended with far worse circumstances, than what any people in their condition suffer in any other part of the world, or have suffered in any other period of time. Proofs of this are not wanting. The prodigious waste, which we experience in this unhappy part of our species, is a full and melancholy evidence of this truth." And he goes on to advise the planters for the sake of their own interest to behave like good men, good masters, and good Christians, and to impose less labour upon their slaves, and to give them recreation on some of the grand festivals, and to instruct them in religion, as certain preventives of their decrease. An anonymous author of a pamphlet, entitled, An Essay in Vindication of the Continental Colonies of America, seems to have come forward next. Speaking of slavery there, he says, "It is shocking to humanity, violative of every generous sentiment, abhorrent utterly from the Christian religion--There cannot be a more dangerous maxim than that necessity is a plea for injustice, for who shall fix the degree of this necessity? What villain so atrocious, who may not urge this excuse, or, as Milton has happily expressed it, "And with necessity, The tyrant's plea, excuse his dev'lish deed?" "That our colonies," he continues, "want people, is a very weak argument for so inhuman a violation of justice--Shall a civilized, a Christian nation encourage slavery, because the barbarous, savage, lawless African hath done it? To what end do we profess a religion whose dictates we so flagrantly violate? Wherefore have we that pattern of goodness and humanity, if we refuse to follow it? How long shall we continue a practice which policy rejects, justice condemns, and piety revolts at?" The poet Shenstone, who comes next in order, seems to have written an Elegy on purpose to stigmatize this trade. Of this elegy I shall copy only the following parts: "See the poor native quit the Libyan shores, Ah! not in love's delightful fetters bound! No radiant smile his dying peace restores, No love, nor fame, nor friendship heals his wound. "Let vacant bards display their boasted woes; Shall I the mockery of grief display? No; let the muse his piercing pangs disclose, Who bleeds and weeps his sum of life away! "On the wild heath in mournful guise he stood Ere the shrill boatswain gave the hated sign; He dropt a tear unseen into the flood, He stole one secret moment to repine-- "Why am I ravish'd from my native strand? What savage race protects this impious gain? Shall foreign plagues infest this teeming land, And more than sea-born monsters plough the main? "Here the dire locusts' horrid swarms prevail; Here the blue asps with livid poison swell; Here the dry dipsa writhes his sinuous mail; Can we not here secure from envy dwell? "When the grim lion urg'd his cruel chase, When the stern panther sought his midnight prey, What fate reserv'd me for this Christian race? O race more polish'd, more severe, than they-- "Yet shores there are, bless'd shores for us remain, And favour'd isles, with golden fruitage crown'd, Where tufted flow'rets paint the verdant plain, And ev'ry breeze shall med'cine ev'ry wound." In the year 1755, Dr. Hayter, bishop of Norwich, preached a sermon before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in which he bore his testimony against the continuance of this trade. Dyer, in his poem called The Fleece, expresses his sorrow on account of this barbarous trade, and looks forward to a day of retributive justice on account of the introduction of such an evil. In the year 1760, a pamphlet appeared, entitled, "Two Dialogues on the Mantrade, by John Philmore." This name is supposed to be an assumed one. The author, however, discovers himself to have been both an able and a zealous advocate in favour of the African race. Malachi Postlethwaite, in his Universal Dictionary of Trade and Commerce, proposes a number of queries on the subject of the Slave-trade. I have not room to insert them at full length. But I shall give the following as the substance of some of them to the reader: "Whether this commerce be not the cause of incessant wars among the Africans--Whether the Africans, if it were abolished, might not become as ingenious, as humane, as industrious, and as capable of arts, manufactures, and trades, as even the bulk of Europeans--Whether, if it were abolished, a much more profitable trade might not be substituted, and this to the very centre of their extended country, instead of the trifling portion which now subsists upon their coasts--And whether the great hindrance to such a new and advantageous commerce has not wholly proceeded from that unjust, inhuman, unchristian-like traffic, called the Slave-trade, which is carried on by the Europeans." The public proposal of these and other queries by a man of so great commercial knowledge as Postlethwaite, and by one who was himself a member of the African commitee, was of great service in exposing the impolicy as well as immorality of the Slave-trade. In the year 1761, Thomas Jeffery published an account of a part of North America, in which he lays open the miserable state of the slaves in the West Indies, both as to their clothing, their food, their labour, and their punishments. But, without going into particulars, the general account he gives of them is affecting: "It is impossible," he says, "for a human heart to reflect upon the slavery of these dregs of mankind, without in some measure feeling for their misery, which ends but with their lives--Nothing can be more wretched than the condition of this people." Sterne, in his account of the Negro girl in his Life of Tristram Shandy, took decidedly the part of the oppressed Africans. The pathetic, witty, and sentimental manner, in which he handled this subject, occasioned many to remember it, and procured a certain portion of feeling in their favour. Rousseau contributed not a little in his day to the same end. Bishop Warburton preached a sermon in the year 1766, before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in which he took up the cause of the miserable Africans, and in which he severely reprobated their oppressors. The language in this sermon is so striking, that I shall make an extract from it. "From the free savages," says he, "I now come to the savages in bonds. By these I mean the vast multitudes yearly stolen from the opposite continent, and sacrificed by the colonists to their great idol the god of gain. But what then, say these sincere worshippers of mammon? They are our own property which we offer up.--Gracious God! to talk, as of herds of cattle, of property in rational creatures, creatures endued with all our faculties, possessing all our qualities but that of colour, our brethren both by nature and grace, shocks all the feelings of humanity, and the dictates of common sense! But, alas! what is there, in the infinite abuses of society, which does not shock them? Yet nothing is more certain in itself and apparent to all, than that the infamous traffic for slaves directly infringes both divine and human law. Nature created man free, and grace invites him to assert his freedom." "In excuse of this violation it hath been pretended, that though indeed these miserable outcasts of humanity be torn from their homes and native country by fraud and violence, yet they thereby become the happier, and their condition the more eligible. But who are you, who pretend to judge of another man's happiness; that state, which each man under the guidance of his Maker forms for himself, and not one man for another? To know what constitutes mine or your happiness is the sole prerogative of him who created us, and cast us in so various and different moulds. Did your slaves ever complain to you of their unhappiness amidst their native woods and deserts? or rather let me ask, Did they ever cease complaining of their condition under you their lordly masters, where they see indeed the accommodations of civil life, but see them all pass to others, themselves unbenefited by them? Be so gracious then, ye petty tyrants over human freedom, to let your slaves judge for themselves, what it is which makes their own happiness, and then see whether they do not place it in the return to their own country, rather than in the contemplation of your grandeur, of which their misery makes so large a part; a return so passionately longed for, that, despairing of happiness here, that is, of escaping the chains of their cruel taskmasters, they console themselves with feigning it to be the gracious reward of heaven, in their future state"-- About this time certain cruel and wicked practices, which must now be mentioned, had arrived at such a height, and had become so frequent in the metropolis, as to produce of themselves other coadjutors to the cause. Before the year 1700, planters, merchants, and others, resident in the West Indies, but coming to England, were accustomed to bring with them certain slaves to act as servants with them during their stay. The latter, seeing the freedom and the happiness of servants in this country, and considering what would be their own hard fate on their return to the islands, frequently absconded. Their masters of course made search after them, and often had them seized and carried away by force. It was, however, thrown out by many on these occasions, that the English laws did not sanction such proceedings, for that all persons who were baptized became free. The consequence of this was, that most of the slaves, who came over with their masters, prevailed upon some pious clergyman to baptize them. They took of course godfathers of such citizens as had the generosity to espouse their cause. When they were seized they usually sent to these, if they had an opportunity, for their protection. And in the result, their godfathers, maintaining that they had been baptized, and that they were free on this account as well as by the general tenour of the laws of England, dared those, who had taken possession of them, to send them out of the kingdom. The planters, merchants, and others, being thus circumstanced, knew not what to do. They were afraid of taking their slaves away by force, and they were equally afraid of bringing any of the cases before a public court. In this dilemma, in 1729 they applied to York and Talbot, the attorney and solicitor-general for the time being, and obtained the following strange opinion from them:--"We are of opinion, that a slave by coming from the West Indies into Great Britain or Ireland, either with or without his master, does not become free, and that his master's right and property in him is not thereby determined or varied, and that baptism doth not bestow freedom on him, nor make any alteration in his temporal condition in these kingdoms. We are also of opinion, that the master may legally compel him to return again to the plantations." This cruel and illegal opinion was delivered in the year 1729. The planters, merchants, and others, gave it of course all the publicity in their power. And the consequences were as might easily have been apprehended. In a little time slaves absconding were advertised in the London papers as runaways, and rewards offered for the apprehension of them, in the same brutal manner as we find them advertised in the land of slavery. They were advertised also, in the same papers, to be sold by auction, sometimes by themselves, and at others with horses, chaises, and harness. They were seized also by their masters, or by persons employed by them, in the very streets, and dragged from thence to the ships; and so unprotected now were these poor slaves, that persons in nowise concerned with them began to institute a trade in their persons, making agreements with captains, of ships going to the West Indies to put them on board at a certain price. This last instance shows how far human nature is capable of going, and is an answer to those persons, who have denied that kidnapping in Africa was a source of supplying the Slave-trade. It shows, as all history does from the time of Joseph, that, where there is a market for the persons of human beings, all kinds of enormities will be practised to obtain them. These circumstances then, as I observed before, did not fail of producing new coadjators in the cause. And first they produced that able and indefatigable advocate Mr. Granville Sharp. This gentleman is to be distinguished from those who preceded him by this particular, that, whereas these were only writers, he was both a writer and an actor in the cause. In fact, he was the first labourer in it in England. By the words "actor" and "labourer," I mean that he determined upon a plan of action in behalf of the oppressed Africans, to the accomplishment of which he devoted a considerable portion of his time, talents, and substance. What Mr. Sharp has done to merit the title of coadjutor in this high sense, I shall now explain. The following is a short history of the beginning and of the course of his labours. In the year 1765, Mr. David Lisle had brought over from Barbadoes Jonathan Strong, an African slave, as his servant. He used the latter in a barbarous manner at his lodgings in Wapping, but particularly by beating him over the head with a pistol, which occasioned his head to swell. When the swelling went down, a disorder fell into his eyes, which threatened the loss of them. To this an ague and fever succeeded, and a lameness in both his legs. Jonathan Strong, having been brought into this deplorable situation, and being therefore wholly useless, was left by his master to go whither he pleased. He applied accordingly to Mr. William Sharp the surgeon for his advice, as to one who gave up a portion of his time to the healing of the diseases of the poor. It was here that Mr. Granville Sharp, the brother of the former, saw him. Suffice it to say, that in process of time he was cured. During this time Mr. Granville Sharp, pitying his hard case, supplied him with money, and he afterwards got him a situation in the family of Mr. Brown, an apothecary, to carry out medicines. In this new situation, when Strong had become healthy and robust in his appearance, his master happened to see him. The latter immediately formed the design of possessing him again. Accordingly, when he had found out his residence, he procured John Ross keeper of the Poultry-compter, and William Miller an officer under the lord-mayor, to kidnap him. This was done by sending for him to a public-house in Fenchurch-street, and then seizing him. By these he was conveyed, without any warrant, to the Poultry-compter, where he was sold by his master, to John Kerr, for thirty pounds. Strong, in this situation, sent, as was usual, to his godfathers, John London and Stephen Nail, for their protection. They went, but were refused admittance to him. At length he sent for Mr. Granville Sharp. The latter went, but they still refused access to the prisoner. He insisted, however, upon seeing him, and charged the keeper of the prison at his peril to deliver him up till he had been carried before a magistrate. Mr. Sharp, immediately upon this, waited upon Sir Robert Kite, the then lord-mayor, and entreated him to send for Strong, and to hear his case. A day was accordingly appointed. Mr. Sharp attended, and also William McBean, a notary-public, and David Laird, captain of the ship Thames, which was to have conveyed Strong to Jamaica, in behalf of the purchaser, John Kerr. A long conversation ensued, in which the opinion of York and Talbot was quoted. Mr. Sharp made his observations. Certain lawyers, who were present, seemed to be staggered at the case, but inclined rather to recommit the prisoner. The lord-mayor, however, discharged Strong, as he had been taken up without a warrant. As soon as this determination was made known, the parties began to move off. Captain Laird, however, who kept close to Strong, laid hold of him before he had quitted the room, and said aloud, "Then I now seize him as my slave." Upon this, Mr. Sharp put his hand upon Laird's shoulder, and pronounced these words: "I charge you, in the name of the king, with an assault upon the person of Jonathan Strong, and all these are my witnesses." Laird was greatly intimidated by this charge, made in the presence of the lord-mayor and others, and, fearing a prosecution, let his prisoner go, leaving him to be conveyed away by Mr. Sharp. Mr. Sharp, having been greatly affected by this case, and foreseeing how much he might be engaged in others of a similar nature, thought it time that the law of the land should be known upon this subject. He applied therefore to Doctor Blackstone, afterwards Judge Blackstone, for his opinion upon it. He was, however, not satisfied with it, when he received it; nor could he obtain any satisfactory answer from several other lawyers, to whom he afterwards applied. The truth is, that the opinion of York and Talbot, which had been made public and acted upon by the planters, merchants, and others, was considered of high authority, and scarcely any one dared to question the legality of it. In this situation, Mr. Sharp saw no means of help but in his own industry, and he determined immediately to give up two or three years to the study of the English law, that he might the better advocate the cause of these miserable people. The result of these studies was the publication of a book in the year 1769, which he called "A Representation of the Injustice and dangerous Tendency of Tolerating Slavery in England." In this work he refuted, in the clearest manner, the opinion of York and Talbot. He produced against it the opinion of the Lord Chief Justice Holt, who many years before had determined, that every slave coming into England became free. He attacked and refuted it again by a learned and laborious inquiry into all the principles of Villenage. He refuted it again, by showing it to be an axiom in the British constitution, "That every man in England was free to sue for and defend his rights, and that force could not be used without a legal process," leaving it to the judges to determine, whether an African was a man. He attacked, also, the opinion of Judge Blackstone, and showed where his error lay. This valuable book, containing these and other kinds of arguments on the subject, he distributed, but particularly among the lawyers, giving them an opportunity of refuting or acknowledging the doctrines it contained. While Mr. Sharp was engaged in this work, another case offered, in which he took a part. This was in the year 1768. Hylas, an African slave, prosecuted a person of the name of Newton for having kidnapped his wife, and sent her to the West Indies. The result of the trial was, that damages to the amount of a shilling were given, and the defendant was bound to bring back the woman, either by the first ship, or in six months from this decision of the court. But soon after the work just mentioned was out, and when Mr. Sharp was better prepared, a third case occurred. This happened in the year 1770. Robert Stapylton, who lived at Chelsea, in conjunction with John Malony and Edward Armstrong, two watermen, seized the person of Thomas Lewis, an African slave, in a dark night, and dragged him to a boat lying in the Thames; they then gagged him, and tied him with a cord, and rowed him down to a ship, and put him on board to be sold as a slave in Jamaica. This base action took place near the garden of Mrs. Banks, the mother of the present Sir Joseph Banks. Lewis, it appears, on being seized, screamed violently. The servants of Mrs. Banks, who heard his cries, ran to his assistance, but the boat was gone. On informing their mistress of what had happened, she sent for Mr. Sharp, who began now to be known as the friend of the helpless Africans, and professed her willingness to incur the expense of bringing the delinquents to justice. Mr. Sharp, with some difficulty, procured a habeas corpus, in consequence of which Lewis was brought from Gravesend just as the vessel was on the point of sailing. An action was then commenced against Stapylton, who defended himself, on the plea, "That Lewis belonged to him as his slave." In the course of the trial, Mr. Dunning, who was counsel for Lewis, paid Mr. Sharp a handsome compliment, for he held in his hand Mr. Sharp's book on the injustice and dangerous tendency of tolerating slavery in England, while he was pleading; and in his address to the jury he spoke and acted thus: "I shall submit to you," says Mr. Dunning, "what my ideas are upon such evidence, reserving to myself an opportunity of discussing it more particularly, and reserving to myself a right to insist upon a position, which I will maintain (and here he held up the book to the notice of those present) in any place and in any court of the kingdom, that our laws admit of no such property[A]." The result of the trial was, that the jury pronounced the plaintiff not to have been the property of the defendant, several of them crying out "No property, no property." [Footnote A: It is lamentable to think, that the same Mr. Dunning, in a cause of this kind, which came on afterwards, took the opposite side of the question.] After this, one or two other trials came on, in which the oppressor was defeated, and several cases occurred, in which poor slaves were liberated from the holds of vessels, and other places of confinement, by the exertions of Mr. Sharp. One of these cases was singular. The vessel on board which a poor African had been dragged and confined had reached the Downs, and had actually got under weigh for the West Indies. In two or three hours she would have been out of sight; but just at this critical moment the writ of habeas corpus was carried on board. The officer, who served it on the captain, saw the miserable African chained to the mainmast, bathed in tears, and casting a last mournful look on the land of freedom, which was fast receding from his sight. The captain, on receiving the writ, became outrageous; but, knowing the serious consequences of resisting the law of the land, he gave up his prisoner, whom the officer carried safe, but now crying for joy, to the shore. But though the injured Africans, whose causes had been tried, escaped slavery, and though many, who had been forcibly carried into dungeons, ready to be transported into the Colonies, had been delivered out of them. Mr. Sharp was not easy in his mind. Not one of the cases had yet been pleaded on the broad ground, "Whether an African slave coming into England became free?" This great question had been hitherto studiously avoided. It was still, therefore, left in doubt. Mr. Sharp was almost daily acting as if it had been determined, and as if he had been following the known law of the land. He wished therefore that the next cause might be argued upon this principle. Lord Mansfield too, who had been biassed by the opinion of York and Talbot, began to waver in consequence of the different pleadings he had heard on this subject. He saw also no end of trials like these, till the law should be ascertained, and he was anxious for a decision on the same basis as Mr. Sharp. In this situation the following case offered, which was agreed upon for the determination of this important question. James Somerset, an African slave, had been brought to England by his master, Charles Stewart, in November 1769. Somerset, in process of time, left him. Stewart took an opportunity of seizing him, and had him conveyed on board the Ann and Mary, captain Knowles, to be carried out of the kingdom and sold as a slave in Jamaica. The question was-"Whether a slave, by coming into England, became free?" In order that time might be given for ascertaining the law fully on this head, the case was argued at three different sittings. First, in January, 1772; secondly, in February, 1772; and thirdly, in May, 1772. And that no decision otherwise than what the law warranted might be given, the opinion of the Judges was taken upon the pleadings. The great and glorious result of the trial was, That as soon as ever any slave set his foot upon English territory, he became free. Thus ended the great case of Somerset, which, having been determined after so deliberate an investigation of the law, can never be reversed while the British Constitution remains. The eloquence displayed in it by those who were engaged on the side of liberty, was perhaps never exceeded on any occasion; and the names of the counsellors Davy, Glynn, Hargrave, Mansfield, and Alleyne, ought always to be remembered with gratitude by the friends of this great cause. For when we consider in how many crowded courts they pleaded, and the number of individuals in these, whose minds they enlightened, and whose hearts they interested in the subject, they are certainly to be put down as no small instruments in the promotion of it: but chiefly to him, under Divine Providence, are we to give the praise, who became the first great actor in it, who devoted his time, his talents, and his substance to this Christian undertaking, and by whose laborious researches the very pleaders themselves were instructed and benefited. By means of his almost incessant vigilance and attention, and unwearied efforts, the poor African ceased to be hunted in our streets as a beast of prey. Miserable as the roof might be, under which he slept, he slept in security. He walked by the side of the stately ship, and he feared no dungeon in her hold. Nor ought we, as Englishmen, to be less grateful to this distinguished individual than the African ought to be upon this occasion. To him we owe it, that we no longer see our public papers polluted by hateful advertisements of the sale of the human species, or that we are no longer distressed by the perusal of impious rewards for bringing back the poor and the helpless into slavery, or that we are prohibited the disgusting spectacle of seeing man bought by his fellow-man.--To him, in short, we owe this restoration of the beauty of our constitution--this prevention of the continuance of our national disgrace. I shall say but little more of Mr. Sharp at present, than that he felt it his duty, immediately after the trial, to write to Lord North, then principal minister of state, warning him, in the most earnest manner, to abolish immediately both the trade and the slavery of the human species in all the British dominions, as utterly irreconcileable with the principles of the British constitution, and the established religion of the land. Among other coadjutors, whom the cruel and wicked practices which have now been so amply detailed brought forward, was a worthy clergyman, whose name I have not yet been able to learn. He endeavoured to interest the public feeling in behalf of the injured Africans, by writing an epilogue to the Padlock, in which Mungo appeared as a black servant. This epilogue is so appropriate to the case, that I cannot but give it to the reader. Mungo enters, and thus addresses the audience:-- "Thank you, my Massas! have you laugh your fill? Then let me speak, nor take that freedom ill. E'en from _my_ tongue some heart-felt truths may fall, And outrag'd Nature claims the care of all. My tale in _any_ place would force a tear, But calls for stronger, deeper feelings here; For whilst I tread the free-born British land, Whilst now before me crowded Britons stand,-- Vain, vain that glorious privilege to me, I am a slave, where all things else are free. "Yet was I born, as you are, no man's slave, An heir to all that lib'ral Nature gave; My mind can reason, and my limbs can move The same as yours; like yours my heart can love; Alike my body food and sleep sustain; And e'en like yours--feels pleasure, want, and pain. One sun rolls o'er us, common skies surround; One globe supports us, and one grave must bound. "Why then am I devoid of all to live That manly comforts to a man can give? To live--untaught religion's soothing balm, Or life's choice arts; to live--unknown the calm Of soft domestic ease; those sweets of life, The duteous offspring, and th' endearing wife? "To live--to property and rights unknown, Not e'en the common benefits my own! No arm to guard me from Oppression's rod, My will subservient to a tyrant's nod! No gentle hand, when life is in decay, To soothe my pains, and charm my cares away; But helpless left to quit the horrid stage, Harass'd in youth, and desolate in age! "But I was born in Afric's tawny strand, And you in fair Britannia's fairer land. Comes freedom, then, from colour?--Blush with shame! And let strong Nature's crimson mark your blame. I speak to Britons.--Britons, then, behold A man by Britons _snar'd_, and _seiz'd_, and _sold_! And yet no British statute damns the deed, Nor do the more than murd'rous villains bleed. "O sons of freedom! equalize your laws, Be all consistent, plead the Negro's cause; That all the nations in your code may see The British Negro, like the Briton, free. But, should he supplicate your laws in vain, To break, for ever, this disgraceful chain, At least, let gentle usage so abate The galling terrors of its passing state, That he may share kind Heav'n's all social plan; For, though no Briton, Mungo is--a man." I may now add, that few theatrical pieces had a greater run than the Padlock; and that this epilogue, which was attached to it soon after it came out, procured a good deal of feeling for the unfortunate sufferers, whose cause it was intended to serve. Another coadjutor, to whom these cruel and wicked practices gave birth, was Thomas Day, the celebrated author of Sandford and Merton, and whose virtues were well known among those who had the happiness of his friendship. In the year 1773 he published a poem, which he wrote expressly in behalf of the oppressed Africans. He gave it the name of The Dying Negro. The preface to it was written in an able manner by his friend counsellor Bicknell, who is therefore to be ranked among the coadjutors in this great cause. The poem was founded on a simple fact, which had taken place a year or two before. A poor Negro had been seized in London, and forcibly put on board a ship, where he destroyed himself, rather than return to the land of slavery. To the poem is affixed a frontispiece, in which the Negro is represented. He is made to stand in an attitude of the most earnest address to Heaven, in the course of which, with the fatal dagger in his hand, he breaks forth in the following words: "To you this unpolluted blood I poor, To you that spirit, which ye gave, restore." This poem, which was the first ever written expressly on the subject, was read extensively; and it added to the sympathy in favour of suffering humanity, which was now beginning to show itself in the kingdom. About this time the first edition of the Essay on Truth made its appearance in the world. Dr. Beattie took an opportunity, in this work, of vindicating the intellectual powers of the Africans from the aspersions of Hume, and of condemning their slavery as a barbarous piece of policy, and as inconsistent with the free and generous spirit of the British nation. In the year 1774, John Wesley, the celebrated divine, to whose pious labours the religious world will be long indebted, undertook the cause of the poor Africans. He had been in America, and had seen and pitied their hard condition. The work which he gave to the world in consequence, was entitled Thoughts on Slavery. Mr. Wesley had this great cause much at heart, and frequently recommended it to the support of those who attended his useful ministry. In the year 1776, the abbé Proyart brought out, at Paris, his History of Loango, and other kingdoms in Africa, in which he did ample justice to the moral and intellectual character of the natives there. The same year produced two new friends in England, in the same cause, but in a line in which no one had yet moved. David Hartley, then a member of parliament for Hull, and the son of Dr. Hartley who wrote the Essay on Man, found it impossible any longer to pass over without notice the case of the oppressed Africans. He had long felt for their wretched condition, and, availing himself of his legislative situation, he made a motion in the house of commons, "That the Slave-trade was contrary to the laws of God, and the rights of men." In order that he might interest the members as much as possible in his motion, he had previously obtained some of the chains in use in this cruel traffic, and had laid them upon the table of the house of commons. His motion was seconded by that great patriot and philanthropist, sir George Saville. But though I am now to state that it failed, I cannot but consider it as a matter of pleasing reflection, that this great subject was first introduced into parliament by those who were worthy of it; by those who had clean hands and irreproachable characters, and to whom no motive of party or faction could be imputed, but only such as must have arisen from a love of justice, a true feeling of humanity, and a proper sense of religion. About this time two others, men of great talents and learning, promoted the cause of the injured Africans, by the manner in which they introduced them to notice in their respective works. Dr. Adam Smith, in his Theory of Moral Sentiments, had, so early as the year 1759, held them up in an honourable, and their tyrants in a degrading light. "There is not a Negro from the coast of Africa, who does not, in this respect, possess a degree of magnanimity, which the soul of his sordid master is too often scarce capable of conceiving. Fortune never exerted more cruelly her empire over mankind, than when she subjected those nations of heroes to the refuse of the gaols of Europe, to wretches who possess the virtue neither of the countries they came from, nor of those they go to, and whose levity, brutality, and baseness so justly expose them to the contempt of the vanquished." And now, in 1770, in his Wealth of Nations, he showed in a forcible manner (for he appealed to the interest of those concerned) the dearness of African labour, or the impolicy of employing slaves. Professor Millar, in his Origin of Ranks, followed Dr. Smith on the same ground. He explained the impolicy of slavery in general, by its bad effects upon industry, population, and morals. These effects he attached to the system of agriculture as followed in our islands. He showed, besides, how little pains were taken, or how few contrivances were thought of, to ease the labourers there. He contended, that the Africans ought to be better treated, and to be raised to a better condition; and he ridiculed the inconsistency of those who held them in bondage. "It affords," says he, "a curious spectacle to observe that the same people, who talk in a high strain of political liberty, and who consider the privilege of imposing their own taxes as one of the unalienable rights of mankind, should make no scruple of reducing a great proportion of their fellow-creatures into circumstances, by which they are not only deprived of property, but almost of every species of right. Fortune perhaps never produced a situation more calculated to ridicule a liberal hypothesis, or to show how little the conduct of men is at the bottom directed by any philosophical principles." It is a great honour to the university of Glasgow, that it should have produced, before any public agitation of this question, three professors[A], all of whom bore their public testimony against the continuance of the cruel trade. [Footnote A: The other was professor Hutcheson, before mentioned in p. 49.] From this time, or from about the year 1776, to about the year 1782, I am to put down three other coadjutors, whose labours seem to have come in a right season for the promotion of the cause. The first of these was Dr. Robertson. In his History of America, he laid open many facts relative to this subject. He showed himself a warm friend both of the Indians and Africans. He lost no opportunity of condemning that trade which brought the latter into bondage: "a trade," says he, "which is no less repugnant to the feelings of humanity than to the principles of religion." And in his Charles the Fifth, he showed in a manner that was clear, and never to be controverted, that Christianity was the great cause in the twelfth century of extirpating slavery from the West of Europe. By the establishment of this fact, he rendered important services to the oppressed Africans. For if Christianity, when it began to be felt in the heart, dictated the abolition of slavery, it certainly became those who lived in a Christian country, and who professed the Christian religion, to put an end to this cruel trade. The second was the abbé Raynal. This author gave an account of the laws, government, and religion of Africa, of the produce of it, of the manners of its inhabitants, of the trade in slaves, of the manner of procuring these, with several other particulars relating to the subject. And at the end of his account, fearing lest the good advice he had given for making the condition of the slaves more comfortable should be construed into an approbation of such a traffic, he employed several pages in showing its utter inconsistency with sound policy, justice, reason, humanity, and religion. "I will not here," says he, "so far debase myself as to enlarge the ignominious list of those writers, who devote their abilities to justify by policy what morality condemns. In an age where so many errors are boldly laid open, it would be unpardonable to conceal any truth that is interesting to humanity. If whatever I have hitherto advanced hath seemingly tended only to alleviate the burthen of slavery, the reason is, that it was first necessary to give some comfort to those unhappy beings, whom we cannot set free, and convince their oppressors, that they were cruel, to the prejudice of their real interests. But, in the mean time, till some considerable revolution shall make the evidence of this great truth felt, it may not be improper to pursue this subject further. I shall then first prove that there is no reason of state, which can authorize slavery. I shall not be afraid to cite to the tribunal of reason and justice those governments, which tolerate this cruelty, or which even are not ashamed to make it the basis of their power." And a little further on he observes--"Will it be said that he, who wants to make me a slave, does me no injury, but that he only makes use of his rights? Where are those rights? Who hath stamped upon them so sacred a character as to silence mine?"-- In the beginning of the next paragraph he speaks thus: "He, who supports the system of slavery, is the enemy of the whole human race. He divides it into two societies of legal assassins; the oppressors, and the oppressed. It is the same thing as proclaiming to the world, If you would preserve your life, instantly take away mine, for I want to have yours." Going on two pages further, we find these words: "But the Negros, they say, are a race born for slavery; their dispositions are narrow, treacherous, and wicked; they themselves allow the superiority of our understandings, and almost acknowledge the justice of our authority.--Yes--The minds of the Negros are contracted, because slavery destroys all the springs of the soul. They are wicked, but not equally so with you. They are treacherous, because they are under no obligation to speak truth to their tyrants. They acknowledge the superiority of our understanding, because we have abused their ignorance. They allow the justice of our authority, because we have abused their weakness." "But these Negros, it is further urged, were born slaves. Barbarians! will you persuade me, that a man can be the property of a sovereign, a son the property of a father, a wife the property of a husband, a domestic the property of a master, a Negro the property of a planter?" But I have no time to follow this animated author, even by short extracts, through the varied strains of eloquence which he displays upon this occasion. I can only say, that his labours entitle him to a high station among the benefactors to the African race. The third was Dr. Paley, whose genius, talents, and learning have been so eminently displayed in his writings in the cause of natural and revealed religion. Dr. Paley did not write any essay expressly in favour of the Africans. But in his Moral Philosophy, where he treated on slavery, he took an opportunity of condemning, in very severe terms, the continuance of it. In this work he defined what slavery was, and how it might arise consistently with the law of nature; but he made an exception against that which arose from the African trade. "The Slave-trade," says he, "upon the coast of Africa, is not excused by these principles. When slaves in that country are brought to market, no questions, I believe, are asked about the origin or justice of the vendor's title. It may be presumed, therefore, that this title is not always, if it be ever, founded in any of the causes above assigned." "But defect of right in the first purchase is the least crime with which this traffic is chargeable. The natives are excited to war and mutual depredation, for the sake of supplying their contracts, or furnishing the markets with slaves. With this the wickedness begins. The slaves, torn away from their parents, wives and children, from their friends and companions, from their fields and flocks, from their home and country, are transported to the European settlements in America, with no other accommodation on ship-board than what is provided for brutes. This is the second stage of the cruelty, from which the miserable exiles are delivered, only to be placed, and that for life, in subjection to a dominion and system of laws, the most merciless and tyrannical that ever were tolerated upon the face of the earth: and from all that can be learned by the accounts of people upon the spot, the inordinate authority, which the Plantation-laws confer upon the slave-holder, is exercised by the English slave-holder, especially, with rigour and brutality." "But necessity is pretended, the name under which every enormity is attempted to be justified; and after all, What is the necessity? It has never been proved that the land could not be cultivated there, as it is here, by hired servants. It is said that it could not be cultivated with quite the same conveniency and cheapness, as by the labour of slaves; by which means, a pound of sugar, which the planter now sells for sixpence, could not be afforded under sixpence-halfpenny--and this is the necessity!" "The great revolution, which has taken place in the western world, may probably conduce (and who knows but that it was designed) to accelerate the fall of this abominable tyranny: and now that this contest and the passions which attend it are no more, there may succeed perhaps a season for reflecting, whether a legislature, which had so long lent its assistance to the support of an institution replete with human misery, was fit to be trusted with an empire, the most extensive that ever obtained in any age or quarter of the world." The publication of these sentiments may be supposed to have produced an extensive effect. For the Moral Philosophy was adopted early by some of the colleges in our universities into the system of their education. It soon found its way also into most of the private libraries of the kingdom; and it was, besides, generally read and approved. Dr. Paley, therefore, must be considered as having been a considerable coadjutor in interesting the mind of the public in favour of the oppressed Africans. In the year 1783, we find Mr. Sharp coming again into notice. We find him at this time taking a part in a cause, the knowledge of which, in proportion as it was disseminated, produced an earnest desire among all disinterested persons for the abolition of the Slave-trade. In this year, certain underwriters desired to be heard against Gregson and others of Liverpool, in the case of the ship Zong, captain Collingwood, alleging that the captain and officers of the said vessel threw overboard one hundred and thirty-two slaves alive into the sea, in order to defraud them, by claiming the value of the said slaves, as if they had been lost in a natural way. In the course of the trial, which afterwards came on, it appeared, that the slaves on board the Zong were very sickly; that sixty of them had already died; and several were ill and likely to die, when the captain proposed to James Kelsall, the mate, and others, to throw several of them overboard, stating "that if they died a natural death, the loss would fall upon the owners of the ship, but that, if they were thrown into the sea, it would fall upon the underwriters." He selected accordingly one hundred and thirty-two of the most sickly of the slaves. Fifty-four of these were immediately thrown overboard, and forty-two were made to be partakers of their fate on the succeeding day. In the course of three days afterwards the remaining twenty-six were brought upon deck to complete the number of victims. The first sixteen submitted to be thrown into the sea; but the rest with a noble resolution would not suffer the officers to touch them, but leaped after their companions and shared their fate. The plea, which was set up in behalf of this atrocious and unparalleled act of wickedness, was, that the captain discovered, when he made the proposal, that he had only two hundred gallons of water on board, and that he had missed his port; It was proved, however, in answer to this, that no one had been put upon short allowance; and that, as if Providence had determined to afford an unequivocal proof of the guilt, a shower of rain fell and continued for three days immediately after the second lot of slaves had been destroyed, by means of which they might have filled many of their vessels[A] with water, and thus have prevented all necessity for the destruction of the third. [Footnote A: It appeared that they filled six.] Mr. Sharp was present at this trial, and procured the attendance of a short-hand-writer to take down the facts, which should come out in the course of it. These he gave to the public afterwards. He communicated them also, with a copy of the trial, to the Lords of the Admiralty, as the guardians of justice upon the seas, and to the Duke of Portland, as principal minister of state. No notice however was taken by any of these, of the information which had been thus sent them. But though nothing was done by the persons then in power, in consequence of the murder of so many innocent individuals, yet the publication of an account of it by Mr. Sharp in the newspapers, made such an impression upon others, that new coadjutors rose up. For, soon after this, we find Thomas Day entering the lists again as the champion of the injured Africans. He had lived to see his poem of The Dying Negro, which had been published in 1773, make a considerable impression. In 1776, he had written a letter to a friend in America, who was the possessor of slaves, to dissuade him by a number of arguments from holding such property. And now, when the knowledge of the case of the ship Zong was spreading, he published that letter under the title of Fragment of an Original Letter on the Slavery of the Negroes. In this same year, Dr. Porteus, bishop of Chester, but now bishop of London, came forward as a new advocate for the natives of Africa. The way in which he rendered them service, was by preaching a sermon in their behalf, before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Of the wide circulation of this sermon, I shall say something in another place, but much more of the enlightened and pious author of it, who from this time never failed to aid, at every opportunity, the cause, which he had so ably undertaken. In the year 1784, Dr. Gregory produced his Essays Historical and Moral. He took an opportunity of disseminating in these a circumstantial knowledge of the Slave-trade, and an equal abhorrence of it at the same time. He explained the manner of procuring slaves in Africa; the treatment of them in the passage, (in which he mentioned the case of the ship Zong,) and the wicked and cruel treatment of them in the colonies. He recited and refuted also the various arguments adduced in defence of the trade. He showed that it was destructive to our seamen. He produced many weighty arguments also against the slavery itself. He proposed clauses for an act of parliament for the abolition of both; showing the good both to England and her colonies from such a measure, and that a trade might be substituted in Africa, in various articles, for that which he proposed to suppress. By means of the diffusion of light like this, both of a moral and political nature, Dr. Gregory is entitled to be ranked among the benefactors to the African race. In the same year, Gilbert Wakefield preached a sermon at Richmond in Surry, where, speaking of the people of this nation, he says, "Have we been as renowned for a liberal communication of our religion and our laws as for the possession of them? Have we navigated and conquered to save, to civilize, and to instruct; or to oppress, to plunder, and to destroy? Let India and Africa give the answer to these questions. The one we have exhausted of her wealth and her inhabitants by violence, by famine, and by every species of tyranny and murder. The children of the other we daily carry from off the land of their nativity, like sheep to the slaughter, to return no more. We tear them from every object of their affection, or, sad alternative, drag them together to the horrors of a mutual servitude! We keep them in the profoundest ignorance. We gall them in a tenfold chain, with an unrelenting spirit of barbarity, inconceivable to all but the spectators of it, unexampled among former ages and other nations, and unrecorded even in the bloody registers of heathen persecution. Such is the conduct of us enlightened Englishmen, reformed Christian. Thus have we profited by our superior advantages, by the favour of God, by the doctrines and example of a meek and lowly Saviour. Will not the blessings which we have abused loudly testify against us? Will not the blood which we have shed cry from the ground for vengeance upon our sins?" In the same year, James Ramsay, vicar of Teston in Kent, became also an able, zealous, and indefatigable patron of the African cause. This gentleman had resided nineteen years in the island of St. Christopher, where he had observed the treatment of the slaves, and had studied the laws relating to them. On his return to England, yielding to his own feelings of duty and the solicitations of some amiable friends, he published a work, which he called An Essay on the Treatment and Conversion of the African Slaves in the British Sugar Colonies. After having given an account of the relative situation of master and slave in various parts of the world, he explained the low and degrading situation which the Africans held in society in our own islands. He showed that their importance would be increased, and the temporal interest of their masters promoted, by giving them freedom, and by granting them other privileges. He showed the great difficulty of instructing them in the state in which they then were, and such as he himself had experienced both in his private and public attempts, and such as others had experienced also. He stated the way in which private attempts of this nature might probably be successful. He then answered all objections against their capacities, as drawn from philosophy, form, anatomy, and observation; and vindicated these from his own experience. And lastly, he threw out ideas for the improvement of their condition, by an establishment of a greater number of spiritual pastors among them; by giving them more privileges than they then possessed; and by extending towards them the benefits of a proper police. Mr. Ramsay had no other motive for giving this work to the public, than that of humanity, or a wish to serve this much-injured part of the human species. For he compiled it at the hazard of forfeiting that friendship, which he had contracted with many during his residence in the islands, and of suffering much in his private property, as well as subjecting himself to the ill-will and persecution of numerous individuals. The publication of this book by one, who professed to have been so long resident in the islands, and to have been an eye-witness of facts, produced, as may easily be supposed, a good deal of conversation, and made a considerable impression, but particularly at this time, when a storm was visibly gathering over the heads of the oppressors of the African race. These circumstances occasioned one or two persons to attempt to answer it, and these answers brought Mr. Ramsay into the first controversy ever entered into on this subject, during which, as is the case in most controversies, the cause of truth was spread. The works, which Mr. Ramsay wrote upon this subject, were, the Essay, just mentioned, in 1784. An Enquiry, also, into the Effects of the Abolition of the Slave-trade, in 1784. A Reply to personal Invectives and Objections, in 1785. A Letter to James Tobin, Esq., in 1787. Objections to the Abolition of the Slave-trade, with Answers: and an Examination of Harris's Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave-trade, in 1788;--and An Address on the proposed Bill for the Abolition of the Slave-trade, in 1789. In short, from the time when he first took up the cause, he was engaged in it till his death, which was not a little accelerated by his exertions. He lived however to see this cause in a train for parliamentary inquiry, and he died satisfied, being convinced, as he often expressed, that the investigation must inevitably lead to the total abolition of the Slave-trade. In the next year, that is, in the year 1785, another advocate was seen in monsieur Necker, in his celebrated work on the French Finances, which had just been translated into the English language from the original work, in 1784. This virtuous statesman, after having given his estimate of the population and revenue of the French West Indian colonies, proceeds thus: "The colonies of France contain, as we have seen, near five hundred thousand slaves, and it is from the number of these poor wretches that the inhabitants set a value on their plantations. What a dreadful prospect! and how profound a subject for reflection! Alas! how little are we both in our morality and our principles! We preach up humanity, and yet go every year to bind in chains twenty thousand natives of Africa! We call the Moors barbarians and ruffians, because they attack the liberty of Europeans at the risk of their own; yet these Europeans go, without danger, and as mere speculators, to purchase slaves by gratifying the avarice of their masters, and excite all those bloody scenes, which are the usual preliminaries of this traffic!" He goes on still further in the same strain. He then shows the kind of power, which has supported this execrable trade. He throws out the idea of a general compact, by which all the European nations should agree to abolish it. And he indulges the pleasing hope, that it may take place even in the present generation. In the same year we find other coadjutors coming before our view, but these in a line different from that, in which any other belonging to this class had yet moved. Mr. George White, a clergyman of the established church, and Mr. John Chubb, suggested to Mr. William Tucket, the mayor of Bridgewater, where they resided, and to others of that town, the propriety of petitioning parliament for the abolition of the Slave-trade. This petition was agreed upon, and, when drawn up, was as follows:-- "The humble petition of the inhabitants of Bridgewater showeth, "That your petitioners, reflecting with the deepest sensibility on the deplorable condition of that part of the human species, the African Negros, who by the most flagitious means are reduced to slavery and misery in the British colonies, beg leave to address this honourable house in their behalf, and to express a just abhorrence of a system of oppression, which no prospect of private gain, no consideration of public advantage, no plea of political expediency, can sufficiently justify or excuse. "That, satisfied as your petitioners are that this inhuman system meets with the general execration of mankind, they flatter themselves the day is not far distant when it will be universally abolished. And they most ardently hope to see a British parliament, by the extinction of that sanguinary traffic, extend the blessings of liberty to millions beyond this realm, hold up to an enlightened world a glorious and merciful example, and stand foremost in the defence of the violated rights of human nature." This petition was presented by the honourable Ann Poulet, and Alexander Hood, esq., (now lord Bridport) who were the members for the town of Bridgewater. It was ordered to lie on the table. The answer, which these gentlemen gave to their constituents relative to the reception of it in the house of commons, is worthy of notice: "There did not appear," say they in their common letter, "the least disposition to pay any farther attention to it. Every one almost says, that the abolition of the Slave-trade must immediately throw the West Indian islands into convulsions, and soon complete their utter ruin. Thus they will not trust Providence for its protection for so pious an undertaking." In the year 1786, captain J.S. Smith of the royal navy offered himself to the notice of the public in behalf of the African cause. Mr. Ramsay, as I have observed before, had become involved in a controversy in consequence of his support of it. His opponents not only attacked his reputation, but had the effrontery to deny his facts. This circumstance occasioned captain Smith to come forward. He wrote a letter to his friend Mr. Hill, in which he stated that he had seen those things, while in the West Indies, which Mr. Ramsay had asserted to exist, but which had been so boldly denied. He gave also permission to Mr. Hill to publish this letter. Too much praise cannot be bestowed on captain Smith, for thus standing forth in a noble cause, and in behalf of an injured character. The last of the necessary forerunners and coadjutors of this class, whom I am to mention, was our much-admired poet, Cowper; and a great coadjutor he was, when we consider what value was put upon his sentiments, and the extraordinary circulation of his works. There are few persons, who have not been properly impressed by the following lines: "My ear is pain'd, My soul is sick with every day's report Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fill'd. There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart, It does not feel for man. The nat'ral bond Of brotherhood is sever'd as the flax That falls asunder at the touch of fire. He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not colour'd like his own, and having pow'r T'inforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey. Lands intersected by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interpos'd, Make enemies of nations, who had else, Like kindred drops, been mingled into one. Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys; And, worse than all, and most to be deplor'd As human Nature's broadest, foulest blot,-- Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat With stripes, that mercy with a bleeding heart Weeps, when she sees inflicted on a beast. Then what is man? And what man, seeing this, And having human feelings, does not blush And hang his head to think himself a man? I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. No! dear as freedom is,--and in my heart's Just estimation priz'd above all price,-- I had much rather be myself the slave, And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him. We have no Slaves at home--then why abroad? And they themselves once ferried o'er the wave That parts us, are emancipate and loos'd. Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country, and their shackles fall[A]. That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud And jealous of the blessing. Spread it then, And let it circulate through every vein Of all your empire--that where Britain's pow'r Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too." [Footnote A: Expressions used in the great trial, when Mr. Sharp obtained the verdict in favour of Somerset.] CHAPTER IV. _Second class of forerunners and coadjutors, up to May 1787, consists of the Quakers in England--of George Fox, and others--of the body of the Quakers assembled at the yearly meeting in 1727--and at various other times--Quakers, as a body, petition Parliament--and circulate books on the subject--Individuals among them become labourers and associate in behalf of the Africans--Dilwyn--Harrison--and others--This the first association ever formed in England for the purpose._ The second class of the forerunners and coadjutors in this great cause up to May 1787 will consist of the Quakers in England. The first of this class was George Fox, the venerable founder of this benevolent society. George Fox was contemporary with Richard Baxter, being born not long after him, and dying much about the same time. Like him, he left his testimony against this wicked trade. When he was in the island of Barbadoes, in the year 1671, he delivered himself to those who attended his religious meetings, in the following manner:-- "Consider with yourselves," says he, "if you were in the same condition as the poor Africans are--who came strangers to you, and were sold to you as slaves--I say, if this should be the condition of you or yours, you would think it a hard measure; yea, and very great bondage and cruelty. And therefore consider seriously of this; and do you for them, and to them, as you would willingly have them, or any others do unto you, were you in the like slavish condition, and bring them to know the Lord Christ." And in his Journal, speaking of the advice, which he gave his friends at Barbadoes, he says, "I desired also, that they would cause their overseers to deal mildly and gently with their Negros, and not to use cruelty towards them, as the manner of some had been, and that after certain years of servitude they should make them free." William Edmundson, who was a minister of the Society, and, indeed, a fellow-traveller with George Fox, had the boldness in the same island to deliver his sentiments to the governor on the same subject. Having been brought before him and accused of making the Africans Christians, or, in other words, of making them rebel and destroy their owners, he replied, "that it was a good thing to bring them to the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus, and to believe in him who died for them and all men, and that this would keep them from rebelling, or cutting any person's throat; but if they did rebel and cut their throats, as the governor insinuated they would, it would be their own doing, in keeping them in ignorance and under oppression, in giving them liberty to be common with women, like brutes, and, on the other hand, in starving them for want of meat and clothes convenient; thus giving them liberty in that which God restrained, and restraining them in that which was meat and clothing." I do not find any individual of this society moving in this cause for some time after the death of George Fox and William Edmundson. The first circumstance of moment, which I discover, is a Resolution of the whole Society on the subject, at their yearly meeting held in London in the year 1727. The resolution was contained in the following words:--"It is the sense of this meeting, that the importing of Negros from their native country and relations by Friends, is not a commendable nor allowed practice, and is therefore censured by this meeting." In the year 1758 the Quakers thought it their duty, as a body to pass another Resolution upon this subject. At this time the nature of the trade beginning to be better known we find them more animated upon it, as the following extract will show:-- "We fervently warn all in profession with us, that they carefully avoid being any way concerned in reaping the unrighteous profits arising from the iniquitous practice of dealing in Negro or other slaves; whereby, in the original purchase, one man selleth another, as he doth the beasts that perish, without any better pretension to a property in him, than that of superior force; in direct violation of the Gospel rule, which teacheth all to do as they would be done by, and to do good to all; being the reverse of that covetous disposition, which furnisheth encouragement to those poor ignorant people to perpetuate their savage wars, in order to supply the demands of this most unnatural traffic, by which great numbers of mankind, free by nature, are subject to inextricable bondage; and which hath often been observed to fill their possessors with haughtiness, tyranny, luxury, and barbarity, corrupting the minds and debasing the morals of their children, to the unspeakable prejudice of religion and virtue, and the exclusion of that holy spirit of universal love, meekness, and charity, which is the unchangeable nature and the glory of true Christianity. We therefore can do no less than, with the greatest earnestness, impress it upon Friends every where, that they endeavour to keep their hands clear of this unrighteous gain of oppression." The Quakers hitherto, as appears by the two resolutions which have been quoted, did nothing more than seriously warn all those in religious profession with them, against being concerned in this trade. But in three years afterwards; or at the yearly meeting in 1761, they came to a resolution, as we find by the following extract from their Minutes, that any of their members having a concern in it should be disowned. "This meeting, having reason to apprehend that divers under our name are concerned in the unchristian traffic in Negros, doth recommend it earnestly to the care of Friends every where, to discourage, as much as in them lies, a practice so repugnant to our Christian profession; and to deal with all such as shall persevere in a conduct so reproachful to Christianity; and to disown them, if they desist not therefrom." The yearly meeting of 1761 having thus agreed to exclude from membership such as should be found concerned in this trade, that of 1763 endeavoured to draw the cords still tighter, by attaching criminality to those, who should aid and abet the trade in any manner. By the minute, which was made on this occasion, I apprehend that no one, belonging to the Society, could furnish even materials for such voyages. "We renew our exhortation, that Friends every where be especially careful to keep their hands clear of giving encouragement in any shape to the Slave-trade, it being evidently destructive of the natural rights of mankind, who are all ransomed by one Saviour, and visited by one divine light, in order to salvation; a traffic calculated to enrich and aggrandize some upon the misery of others, in its nature abhorrent to every just and tender sentiment, and contrary to the whole tenour of the Gospel." Some pleasing intelligence having been sent on this subject by the Society in America to the Society in England, the yearly meeting of 1772 thought it their duty to notice it, and to keep their former resolutions alive by the following minute:--"It appears that the practice of holding Negros in oppressive and unnatural bondage hath been so successfully discouraged by Friends in some of the colonies as to be considerably lessened. We cannot but approve of these salutary endeavours, and earnestly entreat they may be continued, that, through the favour of divine Providence, a traffic so unmerciful and unjust in its nature to a part of our own species, made, equally with ourselves, for immortality, may come to be considered by all in its proper light, and be utterly abolished as a reproach to the Christian name." I must beg leave to stop here for a moment, just to pay the Quakers a due tribute of respect for the proper estimation, in which they have uniformly held the miserable outcasts of society, who have been the subject of these minutes. What a contrast does it afford to the sentiments of many others concerning them! How have we been compelled to prove by a long chain of evidence, that they had the same feelings and capacities as ourselves! How many, professing themselves enlightened, even now view them as of a different species! But in the minutes, which have been cited, we have seen them uniformly represented as persons "ransomed by one and the same Saviour"--"as visited by one and the same light for salvation"--and "as made equally for immortality as others." These practical views of mankind, as they are highly honourable to the members of this society, so they afford a proof both of the reality and of the consistency of their religion. But to return:--From this time there appears to have been a growing desire in this benevolent society to step out of its ordinary course in behalf of this injured people. It had hitherto confined itself to the keeping of its own members unpolluted by any gain from their oppression. But it was now ready to make an appeal to others, and to bear a more public testimony in their favour. Accordingly, in the month of June 1783, when a bill had been brought into the House of Commons for certain regulations to be made with respect to the African trade, the Society sent the following petition to that branch of the legislature:-- "Your petitioners, met in this their annual assembly, having solemnly considered the state of the enslaved Negros, conceive themselves engaged, in religious duty, to lay the suffering situation of that unhappy people before you, as a subject loudly calling for the humane interposition of the legislature. "Your petitioners regret that a nation, professing the Christian faith, should so far counteract the principles of humanity and justice, as by the cruel treatment of this oppressed race to fill their minds with prejudices against the mild and beneficent doctrines of the Gospel. "Under the countenance of the laws of this country many thousands of these our fellow-creatures, entitled to the natural rights of mankind, are held as personal property in cruel bondage; and your petitioners being informed that a Bill for the Regulation of the African Trade is now before the House, containing a clause which restrains the officers of the African Company from exporting Negros, your petitioners, deeply affected with a consideration of the rapine, oppression, and bloodshed, attending this traffic, humbly request that this restriction may be extended to all persons whomsoever, or that the House would grant such other relief in the premises as in its wisdom may seem meet." This petition was presented by Sir Cecil Wray, who, on introducing it, spoke very respectfully of the Society. He declared his hearty approbation of their application, and said he hoped he should see the day when not a slave would remain within the dominions of this realm. Lord North seconded the motion, saying he could have no objection to the petition, and that its object ought to recommend it to every humane breast; that it did credit to the most benevolent society in the world; but that, the session being so far advanced, the subject could not then be taken into consideration; and he regretted that the Slave-trade, against which the petition was so justly directed, was in a commercial view become necessary to almost every nation of Europe. The petition was then brought up and read, after which it was ordered to lie on the table. This was the first petition (being two years earlier than that from the inhabitants of Bridgewater), which was ever presented to parliament for the abolition of the Slave-trade. But the Society did not stop here; for having at the yearly meeting of 1783 particularly recommended the cause to a standing commitee appointed to act at intervals, called the Meeting for Sufferings, the latter in this same year resolved upon an address to the public, entitled, The Case of our Fellow-creatures, the oppressed Africans, respectfully recommended to the serious Consideration of the Legislature of Great Britain, by the People called Quakers: in which they endeavoured in the most pathetic manner to make the reader acquainted with the cruel nature of this trade; and they ordered two thousand copies of it to be printed. In the year 1784 they began the distribution of this case. The first copy was sent to the King through Lord Carmarthen, and the second and the third, through proper officers, to the Queen and the Prince of Wales. Others were sent by a deputation of two members of the society to Mr. Pitt, as prime-minister; to the Lord Chancellor Thurlow; to Lord Gower, as president of the council; to Lords Carmarthen and Sidney, as secretaries of state; to Lord Chief Justice Mansfield; to Lord Howe, as first lord of the Admiralty; and to C.F. Cornwall, Esq. as speaker of the House of Commons. Copies were sent also to every member of both Houses of Parliament. The Society, in the same year, anxious, that the conduct of its members should be consistent with its public profession on this great subject, recommended it to the quarterly and monthly meetings to inquire through their respective districts, whether any, bearing its name, were in any way concerned in the traffic, and to deal with such, and to report the success of their labours in the ensuing year. Orders were also given for the reprinting and circulation of ten thousand other copies of 'The Case.' In the year 1785, the Society interested itself again in a similar manner. For the meeting for sufferings, as representing it, recommended to the quarterly meetings to distribute a work, written by Anthony Benezet, in America, called, A Caution to Great Britain and her Colonies, in a short Representation of the calamitous State of the enslaved Negros in the British Dominions. This book was accordingly forwarded to them for this purpose. On receiving it, they sent it among several public bodies, the regular and dissenting clergy, justices of the peace, and particularly among the great schools of the kingdom, that the rising youth might acquire a knowledge, and at the same time a detestation, of this cruel traffic. In this latter case, a deputation of the Society waited upon the masters, to know if they would allow their scholars to receive it. The schools of Westminster, the Charter-house, St. Paul, Merchant-Taylors, Eton, Winchester, and Harrow were among those visited. Several academies also were visited for this purpose. But I must now take my leave of the Quakers as a public body[A], and go back to the year 1783, to record an event, which will be found of great importance in the present history, and in which only individuals belonging to the Society were concerned. This event seems to have arisen naturally out of existing or past circumstances. For the Society, as I have before stated, had sent a petition to Parliament in this year, praying for the abolition of the Slave-trade. It had also laid the foundation for a public distribution of the books as just mentioned, with a view of enlightening others on this great subject. The case of the ship Zong, which I have before had occasion to explain, had occurred this same year. A letter also had been presented, much about the same time, by Benjamin West, from Anthony Benezet before mentioned, to our Queen, in behalf of the injured Africans, which she had received graciously. These subjects occupied at this time the attention of many Quaker families, and among others, that of a few individuals, who were in close intimacy with each other. These, when they met together, frequently conversed upon them. They perceived, as facts came out in conversation, that there was a growing knowledge and hatred of the Slave-trade, and that the temper of the times was ripening towards its abolition. Hence a disposition manifested itself among these, to unite as labourers for the furtherance of so desirable an object. An union was at length proposed and approved of, and the following persons (placed in alphabetical order) came together to execute the offices growing out of it: William Dillwyn, Thomas Knowles, M.D. George Harrison, John Lloyd, Samuel Hoare, Joseph Woods. [Footnote A: The Quakers, as a public body, kept the subject alive at their yearly meeting in 1784, 1785, 1787, &c.] The first meeting was held on the seventh of July, 1783. At this "they assembled to consider what steps they should take for the relief and liberation of the Negro slaves in the West Indies, and for the discouragement of the Slave-trade on the coast of Africa." To promote this object they conceived it necessary that the public mind should be enlightened respecting it. They had recourse therefore to the public papers, and they appointed their members in turn to write in these, and to see that their productions were inserted. They kept regular minutes for this purpose. It was not however known to the world that such an association existed. It appears that they had several meetings in the course of this year. Before the close of it they had secured a place in the General Evening Post, in Lloyd's Evening Post, in the Norwich, Bath, York, Bristol, Sherborne, Liverpool, Newcastle, and other provincial papers, for such articles as they chose to send to them. These consisted principally of extracts from such authors, both in prose and verse, as they thought would most enlighten and interest the mind upon the subject of their institution. In the year 1784 they pursued the same plan; but they began now to print books. The first, was from a manuscript composed by Joseph Woods, one of the commitee. It was entitled, Thoughts on the Slavery of the Negroes. This manuscript was well put together. It was a manly and yet feeling address in behalf of the oppressed Africans. It contained a sober and dispassionate appeal to the reason of all without offending the prejudices of any. It was distributed at the expense of the association, and proved to be highly useful to the cause which it was intended to promote. A communication having been made to the commitee, that Dr. Porteus, then bishop of Chester, had preached a sermon before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in behalf of the injured Africans, (which sermon was noticed in the last chapter,) Samuel Hoare was deputed to obtain permission to publish it. This led him to a correspondence with Mr. Ramsay before mentioned. The latter applied in consequence to the bishop, and obtained his consent. Thus this valuable sermon was also given to the world. In the year 1785 the association continued their exertions as before; but I have no room to specify them. I may observe, however, that David Barclay, a grandson of the great apologist of that name, assisted at one of their meetings, and (what is singular) that he was in a few years afterwards unexpectedly called to a trial of his principles on this very subject. For he and his brother John became, in consequence of a debt due to them, possessed of a large grazing farm, or pen, in Jamaica, which had thirty-two slaves upon it. Convinced, however, that the retaining of their fellow-creatures in bondage was not only irreconcileable with the principles of Christianity, but subversive of the rights of human nature, they determined upon the emancipation of these. And they[A] performed this generous office to the satisfaction of their minds, to the honour of their characters, to the benefit of the public, and to the happiness of the slave[B]. I mention this anecdote, not only to gratify myself, by paying a proper respect to those generous persons who sacrificed their interest to principle, but also to show the sincerity of David Barclay, (who is now the only surviving brother,) as he actually put in practice what at one of these meetings he was desirous of recommending to others. [Footnote A: They engaged an agent to embark for Jamaica in 1795 to effect this business, and had the slaves conveyed to Philadelphia, where they were kindly received by the Society for improving the Condition of free Black People. Suitable situations were found for the adults, and the young ones were bound out apprentices to handicraft trades, and to receive school learning.] [Footnote B: James Pemberton, of Philadelphia, made the following observation in a letter to a Friend in England:--"David Barclay's humane views towards the Blacks from Jamaica have been so far realized, that these objects of his concern enjoy their freedom with comfort to themselves, and are respectable in their characters, keeping up a friendly intercourse with each other, and avoiding to intermix with the common Blacks of this city, being sober in their conduct and industrious in their business."] Having now brought up the proceedings of this little association towards the year 1786, I shall take my leave of it, remarking, that it was the first ever formed in England for the promotion of the abolition of the Slave-trade. That Quakers have had this honour is unquestionable. Nor is it extraordinary that they should have taken the lead on this occasion, when we consider how advantageously they have been situated for so doing. For the Slave-trade, as we have not long ago seen, came within the discipline of the Society in the year 1727. From thence it continued to be an object of it till 1783. In 1783 the Society petitioned Parliament, and in 1784 it distributed books to enlighten the public concerning it. Thus we see that every Quaker, born since the year 1727, was nourished as it were in a fixed hatred against it. He was taught, that any concern in it was a crime of the deepest dye. He was taught, that the bearing of his testimony against it was a test of unity with those of the same religious profession. The discipline of the Quakers was therefore a school for bringing them up as advocates for the abolition of this trade. To this it may be added, that the Quakers knew more about the trade and the slavery of the Africans, than any other religious body of men, who had not been in the land of their sufferings. For there had been a correspondence between the Society in America and that in England on the subject, the contents of which must have been known to the members of each. American ministers also were frequently crossing the Atlantic on religious missions to England. These, when they travelled through various parts of our island, frequently related to the Quaker families in their way the cruelties they had seen and heard-of in their own country. English ministers were also frequently going over to America on the same religious errand. These, on their return, seldom failed to communicate what they had learned or observed, but more particularly relative to the oppressed Africans, in their travels. The journals also of these, which gave occasional accounts of the sufferings of the slaves were frequently published. Thus situated in point of knowledge, and brought up moreover from their youth in a detestation of the trade, the Quakers were ready to act whenever a favourable opportunity should present itself. CHAPTER V. _Third class of forerunners and coadjutors, up to 1787, consists of the Quakers and others in America--Yearly meeting for Pennsylvania and the Jerseys takes up the subject in 1696--and continue it till 1787--Other five yearly meetings take similar measures--Quakers, as individuals, also become labourers--William Burling and others--Individuals of other religious denominations take up the cause also--Judge Sewell and others--Union of the Quakers with others in a society for Pennsylvania, in 1774--James Pemberton --Dr. Rush--Similar union of the Quakers with others for New York and other provinces_. The next class of the forerunners and coadjutors, up to the year 1787, will consist, first, of the Quakers in America; and then of others, as they were united to these for the same object. It may be asked, How the Quakers living there should have become forerunners and coadjutors in the great work now under our consideration. I reply, first, That it was an object for many years with these to do away the Slave-trade as it was carried on in their own ports. But this trade was conducted in part, both before and after the independence of America, by our own countrymen. It was, secondly, an object with these to annihilate slavery in America; and this they have been instruments in accomplishing to a considerable extent. But any abolition of slavery within given boundaries must be a blow to the Slave-trade there. The American Quakers, lastly, living in a land where both the commerce and slavery existed, were in the way of obtaining a number of important facts relative to both, which made for their annihilation; and communicating many of these facts to those in England, who espoused the same cause, they became fellow-labourers with these in producing the event in question. The Quakers in America, it must be owned, did most of them originally as other settlers there with respect to the purchase of slaves. They had lands without a sufficient number of labourers, and families without a sufficient number of servants, for their work. Africans were poured in to obviate these difficulties, and these were bought promiscuously by all. In these days, indeed, the purchase of them was deemed favourable to both parties, for there was little or no knowledge of the manner in which they had been procured as slaves. There was no charge of inconsistency on this account, as in later times. But though many of the Quakers engaged, without their usual consideration, in purchases of this kind, yet those constitutional principles, which belong to the Society, occasioned the members of it in general to treat those whom they purchased with great tenderness, considering them, though of a different colour, as brethren, and as persons for whose spiritual welfare it became them to be concerned; so that slavery, except as to the power legally belonging to it, was in general little more than servitude in their hands. This treatment, as it was thus mild on the continent of America where the members of this Society were the owners of slaves, so it was equally mild in the West India islands where they had a similar property. In the latter countries, however, where only a few of them lived, it began soon to be productive of serious consequences; for it was so different from that, which the rest of the inhabitants considered to be proper, that the latter became alarmed at it. Hence in Barbadoes an act was passed in 1676, under Governor Atkins, which was entitled, An Act to prevent the people called Quakers from bringing their Negros into their meetings for worship, though they held these in their own houses. This act was founded on the pretence, that the safety of the island might be endangered, if the slaves were to imbibe the religious principles of their masters. Under this act Ralph Fretwell and Richard Sutton were fined in the different sums of eight hundred and of three hundred pounds, because each of them had suffered a meeting of the Quakers at his own house, at the first of which eighty Negros, and at the second of which thirty of them, were present. But this matter was carried still further; for in 1680, Sir Richard Dutton, then governor of the island, issued an order to the Deputy Provost Marshal and others, to prohibit all meetings of this Society. In the island of Nevis the same bad spirit manifested itself.--So early as in 1661, a law was made there prohibiting members of this Society from coming on shore. Negros were put in irons for being present at their meetings, and they themselves were fined also. At length, in 1677, another act was passed, laying a heavy penalty on every master of a vessel, who should even bring a Quaker to the island. In Antigua and Bermudas similar proceedings took place, so that the Quakers were in time expelled from this part of the world. By these means a valuable body of men were lost to the community in these islands, whose example might have been highly useful; and the poor slave, who saw nothing but misery in his temporal prospects, was deprived of the only balm, which could have soothed his sorrow--the comfort of religion. But to return to the continent of America.--Though the treatment, which the Quakers adopted there towards those Africans who fell into their hands, was so highly commendable, it did not prevent individuals among them from becoming uneasy about holding them in slavery at all. Some of these bore their private testimony against it from the beginning as a wrong practice, and in process of time brought it before the notice of their brethren as a religious body. So early as in the year 1688, some emigrants from Krieshiem in Germany, who had adopted the principles of William Penn, and followed him into Pennsylvania, urged in the yearly meeting of the Society there, the inconsistency of buying, selling, and holding men in slavery, with the principles of the Christian religion. In the year 1696, the yearly meeting for that province took up the subject as a public concern, and the result was, advice to the members of it to guard against future importations of African slaves, and to be particularly attentive to the treatment of those, who were then in their possession. In the year 1711, the same yearly meeting resumed the important subject, and confirmed and renewed the advice, which had been before given. From this time it continued to keep the subject alive; but finding at length, that, though individuals refused to purchase slaves, yet others continued the custom, and in greater numbers than it was apprehended would have been the case after the public declarations which had been made, it determined, in the year 1754, upon a fuller and more serious publication of its sentiments; and therefore it issued, in the same year, the following pertinent letter to all the members within its jurisdiction:-- "Dear Friends, "It hath frequently been the concern of our yearly meeting to testify their uneasiness and disunity with the importation and purchasing of Negros and other slaves, and to direct the overseers of the several meetings to advise and deal with such as engage therein. And it hath likewise been the continual care of many weighty Friends to press those, who bear our name, to guard, as much as possible, against being in any respect concerned in promoting the bondage of such unhappy people. Yet, as we have with sorrow to observe, that their number is of late increased among us, we have thought it proper to make our advice and judgment more public, that none may plead ignorance of our principles therein; and also again earnestly to exhort all to avoid, in any manner, encouraging that practice, of making slaves of our fellow-creatures. "Now, dear Friends, if we continually bear in mind the royal law of doing to others as we would be done by, we should never think of bereaving our fellow-creatures of that valuable blessing--liberty, nor endure to grow rich by their bondage. To live in ease and plenty by the toil of those, whom violence and cruelty have put in our power, is neither consistent with Christianity nor common justice; and, we have good reason to believe, draws down the displeasure of Heaven; it being a melancholy but true reflection, that, where slave-keeping prevails, pure religion and sobriety decline, as it evidently tends to harden the heart, and render the soul less susceptible of that holy spirit of love, meekness, and charity, which is the peculiar characteristic of a true Christian. "How then can we, who have been concerned to publish the Gospel of universal love and peace among mankind, be so inconsistent with ourselves, as to purchase such as are prisoners of war, and thereby encourage this antichristian practice; and more especially as many of these poor creatures are stolen away, parents from children, and children from parents; and others, who were in good circumstances in their native country, inhumanly torn from what they esteemed a happy situation, and compelled to toil in a state of slavery, too often extremely cruel! What dreadful scenes of murder and cruelty those barbarous ravages must occasion in these unhappy people's country are too obvious to mention. Let us make their case our own, and consider what we should think, and how we should feel, were we in their circumstances. Remember our Blessed Redeemer's positive command--to do unto others as we would have them do unto us;--and that with what measure we mete, it shall be measured to us again. And we intreat you to examine, whether the purchasing of a Negro, either born here or imported, doth not contribute to a further importation, and, consequently, to the upholding of all the evils above mentioned, and to the promoting of man-stealing, the only theft which by the Mosaic law was punished with death;--'He that stealeth a man, and selleth him; or if he be found in his hand, he shall surely be put to death.' "The characteristic and badge of a true Christian is love and good works. Our Saviour's whole life on earth was one continual exercise of them. 'Love one another,' says he, 'as I have loved you.' But how can we be said to love our brethren, who bring, or, for selfish ends, keep them, in bondage? Do we act consistently with this noble principle, who lay such heavy burthens on our fellow-creatures? Do we consider that they are called, and do we sincerely desire that they may become heirs with us in glory, and that they may rejoice in the liberty of the sons of God, whilst we are withholding from them the common liberties of mankind? Or can the Spirit of God, by which we have always professed to be led, be the author of those oppressive and unrighteous measures? Or do we not thereby manifest, that temporal interest hath more influence on our conduct herein, than the dictates of that merciful, holy, and unerring Guide? "And we likewise earnestly recommend to all, who have slaves, to be careful to come up in the performance of their duty towards them, and to be particularly watchful over their own hearts, it being by sorrowful experience remarkable, that custom, and a familiarity with evil of any kind, have a tendency to bias the judgement and to deprave the mind. And it is obvious that the future welfare of these poor slaves, who are now in bondage, is generally too much disregarded by those who keep them. If their daily task of labour be but fulfilled, little else perhaps is thought of. Nay, even that which in others would be looked upon with horror and detestation, is little regarded in them by their masters,--such as the frequent separation of husbands from wives and wives from husbands, whereby they are tempted to break their marriage covenants, and live in adultery, in direct opposition to the laws of God and men, although we believe that Christ died for all men without respect of persons. How fearful then ought we to be of engaging in what hath so natural a tendency to lessen our humanity, and of suffering ourselves to be inured to the exercise of hard and cruel measures, lest thereby in any degree we lose our tender and feeling sense of the miseries of our fellow-creatures, and become worse than those who have not believed. "And, dear Friends, you, who by inheritance have slaves born in your families, we beseech you to consider them as souls committed to your trust, whom the Lord will require at your hand, and who, as well as you, are made partakers of the Spirit of Grace, and called to be heirs of salvation. And let it be your constant care to watch over them for good, instructing them in the fear of God, and the knowledge of the gospel of Christ, that they may answer the end of their creation, and that God may be glorified and honoured by them as well as by us. And so train them up, that if you should come to behold their unhappy situation, in the same light, that many worthy men, who are at rest, have done, and many of your brethren now do, and should think it your duty to set them free, they may be the more capable of making proper use of their liberty. "Finally, Brethren, we entreat you, in the bowels of gospel love, seriously to weigh the cause of detaining them in bondage. If it be for your own private gain, or any other motive than their good, it is much to be feared that the love of God and the influence of the Holy Spirit are not the prevailing principles in you, and that your hearts are not sufficiently redeemed from the world, which, that you with ourselves may more and more come to witness, through the cleansing virtue of the Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ, is our earnest desire. With the salutation of our love we are your friends and brethren-- "_Signed, in behalf of the yearly meeting, by_ 'John Evans, Abraham Farringdon, John Smith, Joseph Noble, Thomas Carleton, James Daniel, William Trimble, Joseph Gibson, John Scarborough, John Shotwell, Joseph Hampton, Joseph Parker.'" This truly Christian letter, which was written in the year 1754, was designed, as we collect from the contents of it, to make the sentiments of the Society better known and attended to on the subject of the Slave-trade. It contains, as we see, exhortations to all the members within the yearly meeting of Pennsylvania and the Jerseys, to desist from purchasing and importing slaves, and, where they possessed them, to have a tender consideration of their condition. But that the first part of the subject of this exhortation might be enforced, the yearly meeting for the same provinces came to a resolution in 1755, That if any of the members belonging to it bought or imported slaves, the overseers were to inform their respective monthly meetings of it, that "these might treat with them, as they might be directed in the wisdom of truth." In the year 1774, we find the same yearly meeting legislating again on the same subject. By the preceding resolution they, who became offenders, were subjected only to exclusion from the meetings for discipline, and from the privilege of contributing to the pecuniary occasions of the Society; but by the resolution of the present year, all members concerned in importing, selling, purchasing, giving, or transferring Negro or other slaves, or otherwise acting in such manner as to continue them in slavery beyond the term limited by law[A] or custom, were directed to be excluded from membership or disowned. At this meeting also all the members of it were cautioned and advised against acting as executors or administrators to estates, where slaves were bequeathed, or likely to be detained in bondage. [Footnote A: This alludes to the term of servitude for white persons in these provinces.] In the year 1776, the same yearly meeting carried the matter still further. It was then enacted, That the owners of slaves, who refused to execute proper instruments for giving them their freedom, were to be disowned likewise. In 1778 it was enacted by the same meeting, That the children of those, who had been set free by members, should be tenderly advised, and have a suitable education given them. It is not necessary to proceed further on this subject. It may be sufficient to say, that from this time, the Minutes of the yearly meeting for Pennsylvania and the Jerseys exhibit proofs of an almost incessant attention, year after year[A], to the means not only of wiping away the stain of slavery from their religious community, but of promoting the happiness of those restored to freedom, and of their posterity also. And as the yearly meeting of Pennsylvania and the Jerseys set this bright example, so those of New England, New York, Maryland, Virginia, and of the Carolinas and Georgia, in process of time followed it. [Footnote A: Thus in 1779, 1780,-1,-2,-4,-5,-6. The members also of this meeting petitioned their own legislature on this subject both in 1783 and in 1786.] But whilst the Quakers were making these exertions at their different yearly meetings in America, as a religious body, to get rid both of the commerce and slavery of their fellow-creatures, others in the same profession were acting as individuals (that is, on their own grounds and independently of any influence from their religious communion) in the same cause, whose labours it will now be proper, in a separate narrative, to detail. The first person of this description in the Society, was William Burling of Long Island. He had conceived an abhorrence of slavery from early youth. In process of time he began to bear his testimony against it, by representing the unlawfulness of it to those of his own Society, when assembled at one of their yearly meetings. This expression of his public testimony he continued annually on the same occasion. He wrote also several tracts with the same design, one of which, published in the year 1718, he addressed to the elders of his own church, on the inconsistency of compelling people and their posterity to serve them continually and arbitrarily, and without any proper recompense for their services. The next was Ralph Sandiford, a merchant in Philadelphia. This worthy person had many offers of pecuniary assistance, which would have advanced him in life, but he declined them all because they came from persons, who had acquired their independence by the oppression of their slaves. He was very earnest in endeavouring to prevail upon his friends, both in and out of the Society, to liberate those whom they held in bondage. At length he determined upon a work called The Mystery of Iniquity, in a brief Examination of the Practice of the Times. This he published in the year 1729, though the chief judge had threatened him if he should give it to the world, and he circulated it free of expense wherever he believed it would be useful. The above work was excellent as a composition. The language of it was correct. The style manly and energetic. And it abounded with facts, sentiments, and quotations, which, while they showed the virtue and talents of the author, rendered it a valuable appeal in behalf of the African cause. The next public advocate was Benjamin Lay[A], who lived at Abington, at the distance of twelve or fourteen miles from Philadelphia. Benjamin Lay was known, when in England, to the royal family of that day, into whose private presence he was admitted. On his return to America, he took an active part in behalf of the oppressed Africans. In the year 1737, he published a treatise on Slave-keeping. This he gave away among his neighbours and others, but more particularly among the rising youth, many of whom he visited in their respective schools. He applied also to several of the governors for interviews, with whom he held conferences on the subject. Benjamin Lay was a man of strong understanding and of great integrity, but of warm and irritable feelings, and more particularly so when he was called forth on any occasion in which the oppressed Africans were concerned. For he had lived in the island of Barbadoes, and he had witnessed there scenes of cruelty towards them, which had greatly disturbed his mind, and which unhinged it, as it were, whenever the subject of their sufferings was brought before him. Hence if others did not think precisely as he did, when he conversed with them on the subject, he was apt to go out of due bounds. In bearing what he believed to be his testimony against this system of oppression, he adopted sometimes a singularity of manner, by which, as conveying demonstration of a certain eccentricity of character, he diminished in some degree his usefulness to the cause which he had undertaken; as far indeed as this eccentricity might have the effect of preventing others from joining him in his pursuit, lest they should be thought singular also, so far it must be allowed that he ceased to become beneficial. But there can be no question, on the other hand, that his warm and enthusiastic manners awakened the attention of many to the cause, and gave them first impressions concerning it, which they never afterwards forgot, and which rendered them useful to it in the subsequent part of their lives. [Footnote A: Benjamin Lay attended the meetings for worship, or associated himself with the religious society of the Quakers. His wife too was an approved minister of the gospel in that Society. But I believe he was not long an acknowledged member of it himself.] The person, who laboured next in the Society, in behalf of the oppressed Africans, was John Woolman. John Woolman was born at Northampton, in the county of Burlington and province of Western New Jersey, in the year 1720. In his very early youth he attended, in an extraordinary manner, to the religious impressions which he perceived upon his mind, and began to have an earnest solicitude about treading in the right path. "From what I had read and heard," says he, in his Journal[A], "I believed there had been in past ages people, who walked in uprightness before God in a degree exceeding any, that I knew or heard of, now living. And the apprehension of there being less steadiness and firmness among people of this age, than in past ages, often troubled me while I was a child." An anxious desire to do away, as far as he himself was concerned, this merited reproach, operated as one among other causes to induce him to be particularly watchful over his thoughts and actions, and to endeavour to attain that purity of heart, without which he conceived there could be no perfection of the Christian character. Accordingly, in the twenty-second year of his age, he had given such proof of the integrity of his life, and of his religious qualifications, that he became an acknowledged minister of the gospel in his own Society. [Footnote A: This short sketch of the life and labours of John Woolman, is made up from his Journal.] At a time prior to his entering upon the ministry, being in low circumstances, he agreed for wages to "attend shop for a person at Mount Holly, and to keep his books." In this situation we discover, by an occurrence that happened, that he had thought seriously on the subject, and that he had conceived proper views of the Christian unlawfulness of slavery. "My employer," says he, "having a Negro woman, sold her, and desired me to write a bill of sale, the man being waiting, who bought her. The thing was sudden, and though the thought of writing an instrument of slavery for one of my fellow-creatures made me feel uneasy, yet I remembered I was hired by the year, that it was my master who directed me to do it, and that it was an elderly man, a member of our Society, who bought her. So through weakness I gave way and wrote, but, at executing it, I was so afflicted in my mind, that I said before my master and the friend, that I believed slave-keeping to be a practice inconsistent with the Christian religion. This in some degree abated my uneasiness; yet, as often as I reflected seriously upon it, I thought I should have been clearer, if I had desired to have been excused from it, as a thing against my conscience; for such it was. And some time after this, a young man of our Society spoke to me to write a conveyance of a slave to him, he having lately taken a Negro into his house. I told him I was not easy to write it; for though many of our meeting, and in other places, kept slaves, I still believed the practice was not right, and desired to be excused from the writing. I spoke to him in good-will; and he told me that keeping slaves was not altogether agreeable to his mind, but that the slave being a gift to his wife he had accepted of her." We may easily conceive that a person so scrupulous and tender on this subject (as indeed John Woolman was on all others) was in the way of becoming in time more eminently serviceable to his oppressed fellow-creatures. We have seen already the good seed sown in his heart, and it seems to have wanted only providential seasons and occurrences to be brought into productive fruit. Accordingly we find that a journey, which he took as a minister of the gospel in 1746, through the provinces of Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, which were then more noted than others for the number of slaves in them, contributed to prepare him as an instrument for the advancement of this great cause. The following are his own observations upon this journey. "Two things were remarkable to me in this journey; First, in regard to my entertainment. When I ate, drank, and lodged free-cost, with people who lived in ease on the hard labour of their slaves, I felt uneasy; and, as my mind was inward to the Lord, I found, from place to place, this uneasiness return upon me at times through the whole visit. Where the masters bore a good share of the burthen, and lived frugally, so that their servants were well provided for, and their labour moderate, I felt more easy. But where they lived in a costly way, and laid heavy burthens on their slaves, my exercise was often great, and I frequently had conversations with them in private concerning it. Secondly, This trade of importing slaves from their native country being much encouraged among them, and the White people and their children so generally living without much labour, was frequently the subject of my serious thoughts: and I saw in these southern provinces so many vices and corruptions, increased by this trade and this way of life, that it appeared to me as a gloom over the land." From the year 1747 to the year 1753, he seems to have been occupied chiefly as a minister of religion, but in the latter year he published a work upon Slave-keeping; and in the same year, while travelling within the compass of his own monthly meeting, a circumstance happened, which kept alive his attention to the same subject. "About this time," says he, "a person at some distance lying sick, his brother came to me to write his will. I knew he had slaves, and, asking his brother, was told, he intended to leave them as slaves to his children. As writing was a profitable employ, and as offending sober people was disagreeable to my inclination, I was straitened in my mind, but as I looked to the Lord he inclined my heart to his testimony; and I told the man, that I believed the practice of continuing slavery to this people was not right, and that I had a scruple in my mind against doing writings of that kind; that, though many in our Society kept them as slaves, still I was not easy to be concerned in it, and desired to be excused from going to write the will. I spoke to him in the fear of the Lord; and he made no reply to what I said, but went away: he also had some concerns in the practice, and I thought he was displeased with me. In this case, I had a fresh confirmation, that acting contrary to present outward interest from a motive of Divine love, and in regard to truth and righteousness, opens the way to a treasure better than silver, and to a friendship exceeding the friendship of men." From 1753 to 1755, two circumstances of a similar kind took place, which contributed greatly to strengthen him in the path he had taken; for in both these cases the persons who requested him to make their wills, were so impressed by the principle upon which he refused them, and by his manner of doing it, that they bequeathed liberty to their slaves. In the year 1756, he made a religious visit to several of the Society in Long Island. Here it was that the seed, now long fostered by the genial influences of Heaven, began to burst forth into fruit. Till this time he seems to have been a passive instrument, attending only to such circumstances as came in his way on this subject. But now he became an active one, looking out for circumstances for the exercise of his labours. "My mind," says he, "was deeply engaged in this visit, both in public and private; and at several places observing that members kept slaves, I found myself under a necessity, in a friendly way, to labour with them on that subject, expressing, as the way opened, the inconsistency of that practice with the purity of the Christian religion, and the ill effects of it as manifested amongst us." In the year 1757, he felt his mind so deeply interested on the same subject, that he resolved to travel over Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, in order to try to convince persons, principally in his own Society, of the inconsistency of holding slaves. He joined his brother with him in this arduous service. Having passed the Susquehanna into Maryland, he began to experience great agitation of mind. "Soon after I entered this province," says he, "a deep and painful exercise came upon me, which I often had some feeling of since my mind was drawn towards these parts, and with which I had acquainted my brother, before we agreed to join as companions. "As the people in this and the southern provinces live much on the labour of slaves, many of whom are used hardly, my concern was that I might attend with singleness of heart to the voice of the true Shepherd, and be so supported, as to remain unmoved at the faces of men." It is impossible for me to follow him in detail, through this long and interesting journey, when I consider the bounds I have prescribed to myself in this work. I shall say therefore, what I purpose to offer generally and in a few words. It appears that he conversed with persons occasionally, who were not of his own Society, with a view of answering their arguments, and of endeavouring to evince the wickedness and impolicy of slavery. In discoursing with these, however strenuous he might appear, he seems never to have departed from a calm, modest, and yet dignified and even friendly demeanour. At the public meetings for discipline, held by his own Society in these provinces, he endeavoured to display the same truths and in the same manner, but particularly to the elders of his own Society, exhorting them, as the most conspicuous rank, to be careful of their conduct, and to give a bright example in the liberation of their slaves. He visited also families for the same purpose: and he had the well-earned satisfaction of finding his admonitions kindly received by some, and of seeing a disposition in others to follow the advice he had given them. In the year 1758, he attended the yearly meeting at Philadelphia, where he addressed his brethren on the propriety of dealing with such members, as should hereafter purchase slaves. On the discussion of this point he spoke a second time, and this to such effect that he had the satisfaction at this meeting to see minutes made more fully than any before, and a commitee appointed, for the advancement of the great object, to which he had now been instrumental in turning the attention of many, and to witness a considerable spreading of the cause. In the same year also, he joined himself with two others of the Society to visit such members of it, as possessed slaves in Chester county. In this journey he describes himself to have met with several, who were pleased with his visit but to have found difficulties with others, towards whom however he felt a sympathy and tenderness on account of their being entangled by the spirit of the world. In the year 1759, he visited several of the Society who held slaves in Philadelphia. In about three months afterwards, he travelled there again, in company with John Churchman, to see others under similar circumstances. He then went to different places on the same errand. In this last journey he went alone. After this he joined himself to John Churchman again, but he confined his labours to his own province. Here he had the pleasure of finding that the work prospered. Soon after this he took Samuel Eastburne as a coadjutor, and pleaded the cause of the poor Africans with many of the Society in Bucks county, who held them in bondage there. In the year 1760, he travelled, in company with his friend Samuel Eastburne, to Rhode Island, to promote the same object. This island had been long noted for its trade to Africa for slaves. He found at Newport, the great sea-port town belonging to it, that a number of them had been lately imported. He felt his mind deeply impressed on this account. He was almost overpowered in consequence of it, and became ill. He thought once of promoting a petition to the legislature, to discourage all such importations in future. He then thought of going and speaking to the House of Assembly, which was then sitting; but he was discouraged from both these proceedings. He held, however, a conference with many of his own Society in the meeting-house-chamber, where the subject of his visit was discussed on both sides, with a calm and peaceable spirit. Many of those present manifested the concern they felt at their former practices, and others a desire of taking suitable care of their slaves at their decease. From Newport he proceeded to Nantucket; but observing the members of the Society there to have few or no slaves, he exhorted them to persevere in abstaining from the use of them, and returned home. In the year 1761, he visited several families in Pennsylvania, and, in about three months afterwards, others about Shrewsbury and Squan in New Jersey. On his return he added a second part to the treatise before published on the keeping of slaves, a care which had been growing upon him for some years. In the year 1762, he printed, published, and distributed this treatise. In 1767, he went on foot to the western shores of the same province on a religious visit. After having crossed the Susquehanna, his old feelings returned to him; for coming amongst people living in outward ease and greatness, chiefly on the labour of slaves, his heart was much affected, and he waited with humble resignation, to learn how he should further perform his duty to this injured people. The travelling on foot, though it was agreeable to the state of his mind, he describes to have been wearisome to his body. He felt himself weakly at times, in consequence of it, but yet continued to travel on. At one of the quarterly meetings of the Society, being in great sorrow and heaviness, and under deep exercise on account of the miseries of the poor Africans, he expressed himself freely to those present, who held them in bondage. He expatiated on the tenderness and loving-kindness of the apostles, as manifested in labours, perils, and sufferings, towards the poor Gentiles, and contrasted their treatment of the Gentiles with it, whom he described in the persons of their slaves: and was much satisfied with the result of his discourse. From this time we collect little more from his journal concerning him, than that, in 1772, he embarked for England on a religious visit. After his arrival there, he travelled through many counties, preaching in different meetings of the Society, till he came to the city of York. But even here, though he was far removed from the sight of those whose interests he had so warmly espoused, he was not forgetful of their wretched condition. At the quarterly meeting for that county, he brought their case before those present in an affecting manner. He exhorted these to befriend their cause. He remarked that as they, the Society, when under outward sufferings, had often found a concern to lay them before the legislature, and thereby, in the Lord's time, had obtained relief; so he recommended this oppressed part of the creation to their notice, that they might, as the way opened, represent their sufferings as individuals, if not as a religious society, to those in authority in this land. This was the last opportunity that he had of interesting himself in behalf of this injured people; for soon afterwards he was seized with the small-pox at the house of a friend in the city of York, where he died. The next person belonging to the Society of the Quakers, who laboured in behalf of the oppressed Africans, was Anthony Benezet. He was born before, and he lived after, John Woolman; of course he was cotemporary with him. I place him after John Woolman, because he was not so much known as a labourer, till two or three years after the other had begun to move in the same cause. Anthony Benezet was born at St. Quintin in Picardy, of a respectable family, in the year 1713. His father was one of the many protestants, who, in consequence of the persecutions which followed the revocation of the edict of Nantz, sought an asylum in foreign countries. After a short stay in Holland, he settled, with his wife and children, in London, in 1715. Anthony Benezet, having received from his father a liberal education, served an apprenticeship in an eminent mercantile house in London. In 1731, however, he removed with his family to Philadelphia, where he joined in profession with the Quakers. His three brothers then engaged in trade, and made considerable pecuniary acquisitions in it. He himself might have partaken both of their concerns and of their prosperity; but he did not feel himself at liberty to embark in their undertakings. He considered the accumulation of wealth as of no importance, when compared with the enjoyment of doing good; and he chose the humble situation of a schoolmaster, as according best with this notion, believing, that by endeavouring to train up youth in knowledge and virtue, he should become more extensively useful than in any other way to his fellow-creatures. He had not been long in his new situation, before he manifested such an uprightness of conduct, such a courtesy of manners, such a purity of intention, and such a spirit of benevolence, that he attracted the notice, and gained the good opinion, of the inhabitants among whom he lived. He had ready access to them, in consequence, upon all occasions; and, if there were any whom he failed to influence at any of these times, he never went away without the possession of their respect. In the year 1756, when a considerable number of French families were removed from Acadia into Pennsylvania, on account of some political suspicions, he felt deeply interested about them. In a country where few understood their language, they were wretched and helpless; but Anthony Benezet endeavoured to soften the rigour of their situation, by his kind attention towards them. He exerted himself also in their behalf, by procuring many contributions for them, which, by the consent of his fellow-citizens, were entrusted to his care. As the principle of benevolence, when duly cultivated, brings forth fresh shoots, and becomes enlarged, so we find this amiable person extending the sphere of his usefulness, by becoming an advocate for the oppressed African race. For this service he seems to have been peculiarly qualified. Indeed, as in all great works a variety of talents is necessary to bring them to perfection, so Providence seems to prepare different men as instruments, with dispositions and qualifications so various, that each, in pursuing that line which seems to suit him best, contributes to furnish those parts, which, when put together, make up a complete whole. In this point of view, John Woolman found, in Anthony Benezet, the coadjutor, whom, of all others, the cause required. The former had occupied himself principally on the subject of Slavery. The latter went to the root of the evil, and more frequently attacked the Trade. The former chiefly confined his labours to America, and chiefly to those of his own Society there. The latter, when he wrote, did not write for America only, but for Europe also, and endeavoured to spread a knowledge and hatred of the traffic through the great society of the world. One of the means which Anthony Benezet took to promote the cause in question, (and an effectual one it proved, as far as it went,) was to give his scholars a due knowledge and proper impressions concerning it. Situated as they were likely to be, in after-life, in a country where slavery was a custom, for the promotion of his plans. To enlighten others, and to give them a similar bias, he had recourse to different measures from time to time. In the almanacs published annually in Philadelphia, he procured articles to be inserted, which he believed would attract the notice of the reader, and make him pause, at least for a while, as to the licitness of the Slave-trade. He wrote, also, as he saw occasion, in the public papers of the day. From small things he proceeded to greater. He collected, at length, further information on the subject, and, winding it up with observations and reflections, he produced several little tracts, which he circulated successively (but generally at his own expense), as he considered them adapted to the temper and circumstances of the times. In the course of this his employment, having found some who had approved his tracts, and to whom, on that account, he wished to write, and sending his tracts to others, to whom he thought it proper to introduce them by letter, he found himself engaged in a correspondence, which much engrossed his time, but which proved of great importance in procuring many advocates for his cause. In the year 1762, when he had obtained a still greater store of information, he published a larger work. This, however, he entitled, A short Account of that Part of Africa inhabited by the Negros. In 1767 he published, A Caution and Warning to Great Britain and her Colonies, on the Calamitous State of the enslaved Negros in the British Dominions;--and soon after this, appeared, An Historical Account of Guinea; its Situation, Produce, and the General Disposition of its Inhabitants; with an Inquiry into the Rise and Progress of the Slave-Trade, its Nature, and Calamitous Effects. This pamphlet contained a clear and distinct development of the subject, from the best authorities. It contained also the sentiments of many enlightened men upon it; and it became instrumental, beyond any other book ever before published, in disseminating a proper knowledge and detestation of this trade. Anthony Benezet may be considered as one of the most zealous, vigilant, and active advocates, which the cause of the oppressed Africans ever had. He seemed to have been born and to have lived for the promotion of it, and therefore he never omitted any the least opportunity of serving it. If a person called upon him who was going a journey, his first thoughts usually were, how he could make him an instrument in its favour; and he either gave him tracts to distribute, or he sent letters by him, or he gave him some commission on the subject, so that he was the means of employing several persons at the same time, in various parts of America, in advancing the work he had undertaken. In the same manner he availed himself of every other circumstance, as far as he could, to the same end. When he heard that Mr. Granville Sharp had obtained, in the year 1772, the noble verdict in the cause of Somerset the slave, he opened a correspondence with him, which he kept up, that there might be an union of action between them for the future, as far as it could be effected, and that they might each give encouragement to the other to proceed. He opened also a correspondence with George Whitfield and John Wesley, that these might assist him in promoting the cause of the oppressed. He wrote also a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon on the following subject.--She had founded a college, at the recommendation of George Whitfield, called the Orphan-house, near Savannah, in Georgia, and had endowed it. The object of this institution was, to furnish scholastic instruction to the poor, and to prepare some of them for the ministry. George Whitfield, ever attentive to the cause of the poor Africans, thought that this institution might have been useful to them also; but soon after his death, they who succeeded him bought slaves, and these in unusual numbers, to extend the rice and indigo plantations belonging to the college. The letter then in question was written by Anthony Benezet, in order to lay before the Countess, as a religious woman, the misery she was occasioning in Africa, by allowing the managers of her college in Georgia to give encouragement to the Slave-trade. The Countess replied, that such a measure should never have her countenance, and that she would take care to prevent it. On discovering that the Abbé Raynal had brought out his celebrated work, in which he manifested a tender feeling in behalf of the injured Africans, he entered into a correspondence with him, hoping to make him yet more useful to their cause. Finding, also, in the year 1783, that the Slave-trade, which had greatly declined during the American war, was reviving, he addressed a pathetic letter to our Queen, (as I mentioned in the last chapter,) who, on hearing the high character of the writer of it from Benjamin West, received it with marks of peculiar condescension and attention. The following is a copy of it. "_To_ CHARLOTTE _Queen of Great Britain_. "IMPRESSED with a sense of religious duty, and encouraged by the opinion generally entertained of thy benevolent disposition to succour the distressed, I take the liberty, very respectfully, to offer to thy perusal some tracts, which, I believe, faithfully describe the suffering condition of many hundred thousands of our fellow-creatures of the African race, great numbers of whom, rent from every tender connection in life, are annually taken from their native land, to endure, in the American islands and plantations, a most rigorous and cruel slavery; whereby many, very many of them, are brought to a melancholy and untimely end. "When it is considered that the inhabitants of Great Britain, who are themselves so eminently blessed in the enjoyment of religious and civil liberty, have long been, and yet are, very deeply concerned in this flagrant violation of the common rights of mankind, and that even its national authority is exerted in support of the African Slave-trade, there is much reason to apprehend, that this has been, and, as long as the evil exists, will continue to be, an occasion of drawing down the Divine displeasure on the nation and its dependencies. May these considerations induce thee to interpose thy kind endeavours in behalf of this greatly injured people, whose abject situation gives them an additional claim to the pity and assistance of the generous mind, inasmuch as they are altogether deprived of the means of soliciting effectual relief for themselves; that so thou mayest not only be a blessed instrument in the hand of him 'by whom kings reign and princes decree justice,' to avert the awful judgments by which the empire has already been so remarkably shaken, but that the blessings of thousands ready to perish may come upon thee, at a time when the superior advantages attendant on thy situation in this world will no longer be of any avail to thy consolation and support. "To the tracts on this subject to which I have thus ventured to crave thy particular attention, I have added some which at different times I have believed it my duty to publish[A], and which, I trust, will afford thee some satisfaction, their design being for the furtherance of that universal peace and goodwill amongst men, which the gospel was intended to introduce. "I hope thou wilt kindly excuse the freedom used on this occasion by an ancient man, whose mind, for more than forty years past, has been much separated from the common intercourse of the world, and long painfully exercised in the consideration of the miseries under which so large a part of mankind, equally with us the objects of redeeming love, are suffering the most unjust and grievous oppression, and who sincerely desires thy temporal and eternal felicity, and that of thy royal consort. "ANTHONY BENEZET." [Footnote A: These related to the principles of the religious society of the Quakers.] Anthony Benezet, besides the care he bestowed upon forwarding the cause of the oppressed Africans in different parts of the world, found time to promote the comforts, and improve the condition of those in the state in which he lived. Apprehending that much advantage would arise both to them and the public, from instructing them in common learning, he zealously promoted the establishment of a school for that purpose. Much of the two last years of his life he devoted to a personal attendance on this school, being earnestly desirous that they who came to it might be better qualified for the enjoyment of that freedom to restored. To this he sacrificed the superior emoluments of his former school, and his bodily case also, although the weakness of his constitution seemed to demand indulgence. By his last will he directed, that, after the decease of his widow, his whole little fortune (the savings of the industry of fifty years) should, except a few very small legacies, be applied to the support of it. During his attendance upon it he had the happiness to find, (and his situation enabled him to make the comparison,) that Providence had been equally liberal to the Africans in genius and talents as to other people. After a few days' illness this excellent man died at Philadelphia in the spring of 1784. The interment of his remains was attended by several thousands of all ranks, professions, and parties, who united in deploring their loss. The mournful procession was closed by some hundreds of those poor Africans, who had been personally benefited by his labours, and whose behaviour on the occasion showed the gratitude and affection they considered to be due to him as their own private benefactor, as well as the benefactor of their whole race. Such, then, were the labours of the Quakers, in America, of individuals, from 1718 to 1784, and of the body at large, from 1696 to 1787, in this great cause of humanity and religion. Nor were the effects produced from these otherwise than corresponding with what might have been expected from such an union of exertion in such a cause; for both the evils, that is, the evil of buying and selling, and the evil of using, slaves, ceased at length with the members of this benevolent Society. The leaving off all concern with the Slave-trade took place first. The abolition of slavery, though it followed, was not so speedily accomplished; for, besides the loss of property, when slaves were manumitted without any pecuniary consideration in return, their owners had to struggle, in making them free, against the laws and customs of the times. In Pennsylvania, where the law in this respect was the most favourable, the parties wishing to give freedom to a slave were obliged to enter into a bond for the payment of thirty pounds currency, in case the said slave should become chargeable for maintenance. In New Jersey the terms were far less favourable, as the estate of the owner remained liable to the consequences of misconduct in the slave, or even in his posterity. In the southern parts of America manumission was not permitted but on terms amounting nearly to a prohibition. But, notwithstanding these difficulties, the Quakers could not be deterred, as they became convinced of the unlawfulness of holding men in bondage, from doing that which they believed to be right. Many liberated their slaves, whatever the consequences were; and some gave the most splendid example in doing it, not only by consenting, as others did, thus to give up their property, and to incur the penalties of manumission, but by calculating and giving what was due to them, over and above their food and clothing, for wages[A] from the beginning of their slavery to the day when their liberation commenced. Thus manumission went on, some sacrificing more, and others less; some granting it sooner, and others later; till, in the year 1787[B], there was not a slave in the possession of an acknowledged Quaker. [Footnote A: One of the brightest instances was that afforded by Warner Mifflin. He gave unconditional liberty to his slaves. He paid all the adults, on their discharge, the sum, which arbitrators, mutually chosen, awarded them.] [Footnote B: Previously to the year 1787, several of the states had made the terms of manumission more easy.] Having given to the reader the history of the third class of forerunners and coadjutors, as it consisted of the Quakers in America, I am now to continue it, as it consisted of an union of these with others on the same continent in the year 1774, in behalf of the African race. To do this I shall begin with the causes which led to the production of this great event. And in the first place, as example is more powerful than precept, we cannot suppose that the Quakers could have shown these noble instances of religious principle, without supposing also that individuals of other religious denominations would be morally instructed by them. They who lived in the neighbourhood where they took place, must have become acquainted with the motives which led to them. Some of them must at least have praised the action, though they might not themselves have been ripe to follow the example. Nor is it at all improbable that these might be led, in the course of the workings of their own minds, to a comparison between their own conduct and that of the Quakers on this subject, in which they themselves might appear to be less worthy in their own eyes. And as there is sometimes a spirit of rivalship among the individuals of religious sects, where the character of one is sounded forth as higher than that of another; this, if excited by such a circumstance, would probably operate for good. It must have been manifest also to many, after a lapse of time, that there was no danger in what the Quakers had done, and that there was even sound policy in the measure. But whatever were the several causes, certain it is, that the example of the Quakers in leaving off all concern with the Slave-trade, and in liberating their slaves (scattered as they were over various parts of America) contributed to produce in many of a different religious denomination from themselves, a more tender disposition than had been usual towards the African race. But a similar disposition towards these oppressed people was created in others by means of other circumstances or causes. In the early part of the eighteenth century, Judge Sewell of New England came forward as a zealous advocate for them. He addressed a memorial to the legislature, which he called The Selling of Joseph, and in which he pleaded their cause both as a lawyer and a Christian. This memorial produced an effect upon many, but particularly upon those of his own persuasion; and from this time the presbyterians appear to have encouraged a sympathy in their favour. In the year 1739, the celebrated George Whitfield became an instrument in turning the attention of many others to their hard case, and of begetting in these a fellow sympathy towards them. This laborious minister, having been deeply affected with what he had seen in the course of his religious travels in America, thought it his duty to address a letter from Georgia to the inhabitants of Maryland, Virginia, and North and South Carolina. This letter was printed as follows-- "As I lately passed through your provinces in my way hither, I was sensibly touched with a fellow-feeling for the miseries of the poor Negros. Whether it be lawful for Christians to buy slaves, and thereby encourage the nations from whom they are bought to be at perpetual war with each other, I shall not take upon me to determine. Sure I am it is sinful, when they have bought them, to use them as bad as though they were brutes, nay worse; and whatever particular exceptions there may be (as I would charitably hope there are some) I fear the generality of you, who own Negros, are liable to such a charge; for your slaves, I believe, work as hard, if not harder, than the horses whereon you ride. These, after they have done their work, are fed and taken proper care of; but many Negros, when wearied with labour in your plantations, have been obliged to grind their corn after their return home. Your dogs are caressed and fondled at your table; but your slaves, who are frequently styled dogs or beasts, have not an equal privilege. They are scarce permitted to pick up the crumbs which fall from their master's table. Not to mention what numbers have been given up to the inhuman usage of cruel task-masters, who, by their unrelenting scourges have ploughed their backs, and made long furrows, and at length brought them even unto death. When passing along I have viewed your plantations cleared and cultivated, many spacious houses built, and the owners of them faring sumptuously every day, my blood has frequently almost run cold within me, to consider how many of your slaves had neither convenient food to eat, nor proper raiment to put on; notwithstanding most of the comforts you enjoy were solely owing to their indefatigable labours." The letter, from which this is an extract, produced a desirable effect upon many of those, who perused it, but particularly upon such as began to be seriously disposed in these times. And as George Whitfield continued a firm friend to the poor Africans, never losing an opportunity of serving them, he interested, in the course of his useful life, many thousands of his followers in their favour. To this account it may be added, that from the year 1762, ministers, who were in the connection of John Wesley, began to be settled in America, and that as these were friends to the oppressed Africans also, so they contributed in their turn[A] to promote a softness of feeling towards them among those of their own persuasion. [Footnote A: It must not be forgotten that the example of the Moravians had its influence, also, in directing men to their duty towards these oppressed people; for though, when they visited this part of the world for their conversion, they never meddled with the political state of things, by recommending it to masters to alter the condition of their slaves, as believing religion could give comfort in the most abject situations in life, yet they uniformly freed those slaves, who came into their own possession.] In consequence then of these and other causes, a considerable number of persons of various religious denominations had appeared at different times in America, besides the Quakers, who, though they had not distinguished themselves by resolutions and manumissions as religious bodies, were yet highly friendly to the African cause. This friendly disposition began to manifest itself about the year 1770: for when a few Quakers, as individuals, began at that time to form little associations in the middle provinces of North America, to discourage the introduction of slaves among people in their own neighbourhoods, who were not of their own Society, and to encourage the manumission of those already in bondage, they were joined as colleagues by several persons of this description[A], who cooperated with them in the promotion of their design. [Footnote A: It then appeared that individuals among those of the church of England, Roman Catholics, presbyterians, methodists, and, others, had begun in a few instances to liberate their slaves.] This disposition however became more manifest in the year 1772; for the house of burgesses of Virginia presented a petition to the King, beseeching his majesty to remove all those restraints on his governors of that colony, which inhibited their assent to such laws, as might check that inhuman and impolitic commerce, the Slave-trade: and it is remarkable, that the refusal of the British government to permit the Virginians to exclude slaves from among them by law, was enumerated afterwards among the public reasons for separating from the mother country. But this friendly disposition was greatly increased in the year 1773, by the literary labours of Dr. Benjamin Rush of Philadelphia[A], who, I believe, is a member of the presbyterian church. For in this year, at the instigation of Anthony Benezet, he took up the cause of the oppressed Africans in a little work, which he entitled An Address to the Inhabitants of the British Settlements on the Slavery of the Negros; and soon afterwards in another, which was a vindication of the first, in answer to an acrimonious attack by a West Indian planter. These publications contained many new observations. They were written in a polished style; and while they exhibited the erudition and talents, they showed the liberality and benevolence, of the author. Having had a considerable circulation, they spread conviction among many, and promoted the cause for which they had been so laudibly undertaken. Of the great increase of friendly disposition towards the African cause in this very year, we have this remarkable proof;--that when the Quakers, living in East and West Jersey, wished to petition the legislature to obtain an act of assembly for the more equitable manumission of slaves in that province, so many others of different persuasions joined them, that the petition was signed by upwards of three thousand persons. [Footnote A: Dr. Rush has been better known since for his other literary works; such as his Medical Dissertations, his Treatises on the Discipline of Schools, Criminal Law, &c.] But in the next year, or in the year 1774[A], the increased good-will towards the Africans became so apparent, but more particularly in Pennsylvania, where the Quakers were more numerous than in any other state, that they, who considered themselves more immediately as the friends of these injured people, thought it right to avail themselves of it: and accordingly James Pemberton, one of the most conspicuous of the Quakers in Pennsylvania, and Dr. Rush, one of the most conspicuous of those belonging to the various other religious communities in that province, undertook, in conjunction with others, the important task of bringing those into a society who were friendly to this cause. In this undertaking they succeeded. And hence arose that union of the Quakers with others, to which I have been directing the attention of the reader, and by which the third class of forerunners and coadjutors becomes now complete. This society, which was confined to Pennsylvania, was the first ever formed in America, in which there was an union of persons of different religious denominations in behalf of the African race. [Footnote A: In this year, Elhanan Winchester, a supporter of the doctrine of universal redemption, turned the attention of many of his hearers to this subject, both by private interference and by preaching expressly upon it.] But this society had scarcely begun to act, when the war broke out between England and America, which had the effect of checking its operations. This was considered as a severe blow upon it. But as those things which appear most to our disadvantage, turn out often the most to our benefit, so the war, by giving birth to the independence of America, was ultimately favourable to its progress. For as this contest had produced during its continuance, so it left, when it was over, a general enthusiasm for liberty. Many talked of little else but of the freedom they had gained. These were naturally led to the consideration of those among them, who were groaning in bondage. They began to feel for their hard case. They began to think that they should not deserve the new blessing which they had acquired, if they denied it to others. Thus the discussions, which originated in this contest, became the occasion of turning the attention of many, who might not otherwise have thought of it, towards the miserable condition of the slaves. Nor were writers wanting, who, influenced by considerations on the war and the independence resulting from it, made their works subservient to the same benevolent end. A work, entitled, A Serious Address to the Rulers of America on the Inconsistency of their Conduct respecting Slavery, forming a Contrast between the Encroachments of England on American Liberty and American Injustice in tolerating Slavery, which appeared in 1783, was particularly instrumental in producing this effect. This excited a more than usual attention to the case of these oppressed people, and where most of all it could be useful. For the author compared in two opposite columns the animated speeches and resolutions of the members of congress in behalf of their own liberty with their conduct in continuing slavery to others. Hence the legislature began to feel the inconsistency of the practice; and so far had the sense of this inconsistency spread there, that when the delegates met from each state, to consider of a federal union, there was a desire that the abolition of the Slave-trade should be one of the articles in it. This was, however, opposed by the delegates from North and South Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, and Georgia, the five states which had the greatest concern in slaves. But even these offered to agree to the article, provided a condition was annexed to it, (which was afterwards done,) that the power of such abolition should not commence in the legislature till the first of January 1808. In consequence then of these different circumstances, the society of Pennsylvania, the object of which was "for promoting the abolition of slavery and the relief of free Negros unlawfully held in bondage," became so popular, that in the year 1787 it was thought desirable to enlarge it. Accordingly several new members were admitted into it. The celebrated Dr. Franklin, who had long warmly espoused the cause of the injured Africans, was appointed president; James Pemberton and Jonathan Penrose were appointed vice-presidents; Dr. Benjamin Rush and Tench Coxe, secretaries; James Star, treasurer; William Lewis, John D. Coxe, Miers Fisher, and William Rawle, counsellors; Thomas Harrison, Nathan Boys, James Whiteall, James Reed, John Todd, Thomas Armatt, Norris Jones, Samuel Richards, Francis Bayley, Andrew Carson, John Warner, and Jacob Shoemaker, junior, an electing commitee; and Thomas Shields, Thomas Parker, John Oldden, William Zane, John Warner, and William McElhenny, an acting commitee for carrying on the purposes of the institution. I shall now only observe further upon this subject, that as a society, consisting of an union of the Quakers, with others of other religious denominations, was established for Pennsylvania in behalf of the oppressed Africans, so different societies, consisting each of a similar union of persons, were established in New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, and other states for the same object, and that these afterwards held a correspondence and personal communion with each other for the promotion of it. CHAPTER VI. _Observations on the three classes already introduced--Coincidence of extraordinary circumstances--Individuals in each of these classes, who seem to have had an education as it were to qualify them for promoting the cause of the abolition--Sharp and Ramsay in the first--Dillwyn in the second--Pemberton and Rush in the third--These, with their respective classes, acted on motives of their own, and independently of each other--and yet, from circumstances neither foreseen nor known by them, they were in the way of being easily united in 1787--William Dillwyn, the great medium of connection between them all._ If the reader will refer to his recollection, he will find, that I have given the history of three of the classes of the forerunners and coadjutors in the great cause of the abolition of the Slave-trade up to the time proposed. He will of course expect that I should proceed with the history of the fourth. But, as I foresee that, by making certain observations upon the classes already introduced in the present rather than in any future place, I shall be able to give him clearer views on the subject, I shall postpone the history of the remaining class to the next chapter. The account, which I shall now give, will exhibit a concurrence of extraordinary and important circumstances. It will show, first, that in each of the three classes now introduced, there were individuals in the year 1787, who had been educated as it were for the purpose of becoming peculiarly qualified to act together for the promotion of the abolition of the Slave-trade. It will show, secondly, that these, with their respective classes, acted upon their own principles, distinctly and independently of each other. And, lastly, that by means of circumstances, which they themselves had neither foreseen nor contrived, a junction between them was rendered easily practicable, and that it was beginning to take place at the period assigned. The first class of forerunners and coadjutors consisted principally, as it has appeared, of persons in England of various descriptions. These, I may observe, had no communication with each other as to any plan for the abolition of the Slave-trade. There were two individuals, however, among them, who were more conspicuous than the rest, namely, Granville Sharp, the first labourer, and Mr. Ramsay, the first controversial writer, in the cause. That Granville Sharp received an education as if to become qualified to unite with others, in the year 1787, for this important object, must have appeared from the history of his labours, as detailed in several of the preceding pages. The same may be said of Mr. Ramsay; for it has already appeared that he lived in the island of St. Christopher, where he made his observations, and studied the laws, relative to the treatment of slaves, for nineteen years. That Granville Sharp acted on grounds distinct from those in any of the other classes is certain. For he knew nothing at this time either of the Quakers in England or of those in America, any more than that they existed by name. Had it not been for the case of Jonathan Strong, he might never have attached himself to the cause. A similar account may be given of Mr. Ramsay; for, if it had not been for what he had seen in the island of St. Christopher, he had never embarked in it. It was from scenes, which he had witnessed there, that he began to feel on the subject. These feelings he communicated to others on his return to England, and these urged him into action. With respect to the second class, the reader will recollect that it consisted of the Quakers in England: first, of George Fox; then of the Quakers as a body; then of individuals belonging to that body, who formed themselves into a commitee, independently of it, for the promotion of the object in question. This commitee, it may be remembered, consisted of six persons, of whom one was William Dillwyn. That William Dillwyn became fitted for the station, which he was afterwards to take, will be seen shortly. He was born in America, and was a pupil of the venerable Benezet, who took pains very early to interest his feelings on this great subject. Benezet employed him occasionally, I mean in a friendly manner, as his amanuensis, to copy his manuscripts for publication, as well as several of his letters written in behalf of the cause. This gave his scholar an insight into the subject, who, living besides in the land where both the Slave-trade and slavery were established, obtained an additional knowledge of them, so as to be able to refute many of those objections, to which others for want of local observation could never have replied. In the year 1772 Anthony Benezet introduced William Dillwyn by letter to several of the principal people of Carolina, with whom he had himself before corresponded on the sufferings of the poor Africans, and desired him to have interviews with them on the subject. He charged him also to be very particular in making observations as to what he should see there. This journey was of great use to the latter in fixing him as the friend of these oppressed people, for he saw so much of their cruel treatment in the course of it, that he felt an anxiety ever afterwards, amounting to a duty, to do everything in his power for their relief. In the year 1773 William Dillwyn, in conjunction with Richard Smith and Daniel Wells, two of his own Society, wrote a pamphlet in answer to arguments then prevailing, that the manumission of slaves would be injurious. This pamphlet,--which was entitled, Brief Considerations on Slavery, and the Expediency of its Abolition; with some Hints on the Means whereby it may be gradually effected,--proved that in lieu of the usual security required, certain sums paid at the several periods of manumission would amply secure the public, as well as the owners of the slaves, from any future burthens. In the same year also, when the Society, joined by several hundreds of others in New Jersey, presented a petition to the legislature, (as mentioned in the former chapter,) to obtain an act of assembly for the more equitable manumission of slaves in that province, William Dillwyn was one of a deputation, which was heard at the bar of the assembly for that purpose. In 1774 he came to England, but his attention was still kept alive to the subject. For he was the person, by whom Anthony Benezet sent his letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, as before related. He was also the person, to whom the same venerable defender of the African race sent his letter, before spoken of, to be forwarded to the Queen. That William Dillwyn and those of his own class in England acted upon motives very distinct from those of the former class may be said with truth, for they acted upon the constitutional principles of their own Society, as incorporated into its discipline, which principles would always have incited them to the subversion of slavery, as far as they themselves were concerned, whether any other persons had abolished it or not. To which it may be added, as a further proof of the originality of their motives, that the Quakers have had ever since their institution as a religious body, but little intercourse with the world. The third class, to which I now come, consisted, as we have seen, first, of the Quakers in America; and secondly, of an union of these with others on the same continent. The principal individuals concerned in this union were James Pemberton and Dr. Rush. The former of these, having taken an active part in several of the yearly meetings of his own Society relative to the oppressed Africans, and having been in habits of intimacy and friendship with John Woolman and Anthony Benezet, with the result of whose labours he was acquainted, may be supposed to have become qualified to take a leading station in the promotion of their cause. Dr. Rush also had shown himself, as has appeared, an able advocate, and had even sustained a controversy in their favour. That the two last mentioned acted also on motives of their own, or independently of those belonging to the other two classes, when they formed their association in Pennsylvania, will be obvious from these circumstances; first, that most of those of the first class, who contributed to throw the greatest light and odium upon the Slave-trade, had not then made their public appearance in the world. And, with respect to the second class, the little commitee belonging to it had neither been formed nor thought of. And as the individuals in each of the three classes, who have now been mentioned, had an education as it were to qualify them for acting together in this great cause, and had moved independently of each other, so it will appear that, by means of circumstances which they themselves had neither foreseen nor contrived, a junction between them was rendered easily practicable, and that it was beginning to take place at the period assigned. To show this, I must first remind the reader that Anthony Benezet, as soon as he heard of the result of the case of Somerset, opened a correspondence with Granville Sharp, which was kept up to the encouragement of both. In the year 1774, when he learned that William Dillwyn was going to England, he gave him letters to that gentleman. Thus one of the most conspicuous of the second class was introduced, accidentally as it were, to one of the most conspicuous of the first. In the year 1775 William Dillwyn went back to America, but, on his return to England to settle, he renewed his visits to Granville Sharp. Thus the connection was continued. To these observations I may now add; that Samuel Hoare, of the same class as William Dillwyn, had, in consequence of the Bishop of Chester's sermon, begun a correspondence in 1784, as before mentioned, with Mr. Ramsay, who was of the same class as Mr. Sharp. Thus four individuals of the two first classes were in the way of an union with one another. But circumstances equally natural contributed to render an union between the members of the second and the third classes easily practicable also. For what was more natural than that William Dillwyn, who was born and who had resided long in America, should have connections there? He had long cultivated a friendship (not then knowing to what it would lead) with James Pemberton. His intimacy with him was like that of a family connection. They corresponded together. They corresponded also as kindred hearts, relative to the Slave-trade. Thus two members of the second and third classes had opened an intercourse on the subject, and thus was William Dillwyn the great medium, through whom the members of the two classes now mentioned, as well as the members of all the three might be easily united also, if a fit occasion should offer. CHAPTER VII. _Fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to 1787--Dr. Peckard, vice-chancellor of the University of Cambridge, the first of these--gives out the Slave-trade as the subject for one of the annual prizes--Author writes and obtains the first of these--reads his Dissertation in the Senate-house in the summer of 1785--his feelings on the subject during his return home--is desirous of aiding the cause of the Africans, but sees great difficulties--determines to publish his prize-essay for this purpose--is accidentally thrown into the way of James Phillips, who introduces him to W. Dillwyn, the connecting medium of the three classes before mentioned--and to G. Sharp, and Mr. Ramsay--and to R. Phillips._ I proceed now to the fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to the year 1787 in the great cause of the abolition of the Slave-trade. The first of these was Dr. Peckard. This gentleman had distinguished himself in the earlier part of his life by certain publications on the intermediate state of the soul, and by others in favour of civil and religious liberty. To the latter cause he was a warm friend, seldom omitting any opportunity of declaring his sentiments in its favour. In the course of his preferment he was appointed by Sir John Griffin, afterwards Lord Howard, of Walden, to the mastership of Magdalen College in the University of Cambridge. In this high office he considered it to be his duty to support those doctrines which he had espoused when in an inferior station; and accordingly, when in the year 1784 it devolved upon him to preach a sermon before the University of Cambridge, he chose his favourite subject, in the handling of which he took an opportunity of speaking of the Slave-trade in the following nervous manner:-- "Now, whether we consider the crime, with respect to the individuals concerned in this most barbarous and cruel traffic, or whether we consider it as patronized and encouraged by the laws of the land, it presents to our view an equal degree of enormity. A crime, founded on a dreadful preeminence in wickedness--A crime, which being both of individuals and the nation, heaviest judgment of Almighty God, who made of one blood all the sons of men, and who gave to all equally a natural right to liberty; and who, ruling all the kingdoms of the earth with equal providential justice, cannot suffer such deliberate, such monstrous iniquity, to pass long unpunished." But Dr. Peckard did not consider this delivery of his testimony, though it was given before a learned and religious body, as a sufficient discharge of his duty, while any opportunity remained of renewing it with effect. And, as such an one offered in the year 1785, when he was vice-chancellor of the University, he embraced it. In consequence of his office, it devolved upon him to give out two subjects for Latin dissertations, one to the middle bachelors, and the other to the senior bachelors of arts. They who produced the best were to obtain the prizes. To the latter, he proposed the following: "Anne liceat Invitos in Servitutem dare?" or, "Is it right to make slaves of others against their will?" This circumstance of giving out the subjects for the prizes, though only an ordinary measure, became the occasion of my own labours, or of the real honour which I feel in being able to consider myself as the next coadjutor of this class in the cause of the injured Africans. For it happened in this year that, being of the order of senior bachelors, I became qualified to write. I had gained a prize for the best Latin dissertation in the former year, and, therefore, it was expected that I should obtain one in the present, or I should be considered as having lost my reputation both in the eyes of the University and of my own College. It had happened also, that I had been honoured with the first of the prizes[A] in that year, and therefore it was expected again, that I should obtain the first on this occasion. The acquisition of the second, however honourable, would have been considered as a falling off, or as a loss of former fame. I felt myself, therefore, particularly called upon to maintain my post. And, with feelings of this kind, I began to prepare myself for the question. [Footnote A: There are two prizes on each subject, one for the best and the other for the second-best essays.] In studying the thesis, I conceived it to point directly to the African Slave-trade, and more particularly as I knew that Dr. Peckard, in the sermon which I have mentioned, had pronounced so warmly against it. At any rate, I determined to give it this construction. But, alas! I was wholly ignorant of this subject; and, what was unfortunate, a few weeks only were allowed for the composition. I was determined, however, to make the best use of my time. I got access to the manuscript papers of a deceased friend, who had been in the trade. I was acquainted also with several officers who had been in the West Indies, and from these I gained something. But I still felt myself at a loss for materials, and I did not know where to get them; when going by accident into a friend's house, I took up a newspaper then lying on his table. One of the articles, which attracted my notice, was an advertisement of Anthony Benezet's Historical Account of Guinea. I soon left my friend and his paper, and, to lose no time, hastened to London to buy it. In this precious book I found almost all I wanted. I obtained, by means of it, a knowledge of, and gained access to, the great authorities of Adanson, Moore, Barbot, Smith, Bosman and others. It was of great consequence to know what these persona had said upon this subject. For, having been themselves either long resident in Africa, or very frequently there, their knowledge of it could not be questioned. Having been concerned also in the trade, it was not likely that they would criminate themselves more than they could avoid. Writing too at a time, when the abolition was not even thought of, they could not have been biassed with any view to that event. And, lastly, having been dead many years, they could not have been influenced, as living evidences may be supposed to have been, either to conceal or to exaggerate, as their own interest might lead them, either by being concerned in the continuance of the trade, or by supporting the opinions of those of their patrons in power, who were on the different sides of this question. Furnished then in this manner, I began my work. But no person can tell the severe trial, which the writing of it proved to me. I had expected pleasure from the invention of the arguments, from the arrangement of them, from the putting of them together, and from the thought in the interim that I was engaged in an innocent contest for literary honour. But all my pleasure was damped by the facts which were now continually before me. It was but one gloomy subject from morning to night. In the day-time I was uneasy. In the night I had little rest. I sometimes never closed my eye-lids for grief. It became now not so much a trial for academical reputation, as for the production of a work, which might be useful to injured Africa. And keeping this idea in my mind ever after the perusal of Benezet, I always slept with a candle in my room, that I might rise out of bed and put down such thoughts as might occur to me in the night, if I judged them valuable, conceiving that no arguments of any moment should be lost in so great a cause. Having at length finished this painful task I sent my Essay to the vice-chancellor, and soon afterwards found myself honoured as before with the first prize. As it is usual to read these essays publicly in the senate-house soon after the prize is adjudged, I was called to Cambridge for this purpose. I went and performed my office. On returning however to London, the subject of it almost wholly engrossed my thoughts. I became at times very seriously affected while upon the road. I stopped my horse occasionally, and dismounted and walked. I frequently tried to persuade myself in these intervals that the contents of my Essay could not be true. The more however I reflected upon them, or rather upon the authorities on which they were founded, the more I gave them credit. Coming in sight of Wades Mill in Hertfordshire, I sat down disconsolate on the turf by the roadside and held my horse. Here a thought came into my mind, that if the contents of the Essay were true, it was time some person should see these calamities to their end. Agitated in this manner I reached home. This was in the summer of 1785. In the course of the autumn of the same year I experienced similar impressions. I walked frequently into the woods, that I might think on the subject in solitude, and find relief to my mind there. But there the question still recurred, "Are these things true?"--Still the answer followed as instantaneously "They are."--Still the result accompanied it, "Then surely some person should interfere." I then began to envy those who had seats in parliament, and who had great riches, and widely extended connections, which would enable them to take up this cause. Finding scarcely any one at that time who thought of it, I was turned frequently to myself. But here many difficulties arose. It struck me, among others, that a young man of only twenty-four years of age could not have that solid judgment, or knowledge of men, manners, and things, which were requisite to qualify him to undertake a task of such magnitude and importance;--and with whom was I to unite? I believed also, that it looked so much like one of the feigned labours of Hercules, that my understanding would be suspected if I proposed it. On ruminating however on the subject, I found one thing at least practicable, and that this also was in my power. I could translate my Latin dissertation. I could enlarge it usefully. I could see how the public received it, or how far they were likely to favour any serious measures, which should have a tendency to produce the abolition of the Slave-trade. Upon this then I determined; and in the middle of the month of November 1785, I began my work. By the middle of January, I had finished half of it, though I had made considerable additions. I now thought of engaging with some bookseller to print it when finished. For this purpose I called upon Mr. Cadell, in the Strand, and consulted him about it. He said that as the original Essay had been honoured by the University of Cambridge with the first prize, this circumstance would ensure it a respectable circulation among persons of taste. I own I was not much pleased with his opinion. I wished the Essay to find its way among useful people, and among such as would think and act with me. Accordingly I left Mr. Cadell, after having thanked him for his civility, and determined, as I thought I had time sufficient before dinner, to call upon a friend in the city. In going past the Royal Exchange, Mr. Joseph Hancock, one of the religious society of the Quakers, and with whose family my own had been long united in friendship, suddenly met me. He first accosted me by saying that I was the person, whom he was wishing to see. He then asked me why I had not published my Prize Essay. I asked him in return what had made him think of that subject in particular. He replied, that his own Society had long taken it up as a religious body, and individuals among them were wishing to find me out. I asked him who. He answered, James Phillips, a bookseller, in George-yard, Lombard-street, and William Dillwyn, of Walthamstow, and others. Having but little time to spare, I desired him to introduce me to one of them. In a few minutes he took me to James Phillips, who was then the only one of them in town; by whose conversation I was so much interested and encouraged, that without any further hesitation I offered him the publication of my work. This accidental introduction of me to James Phillips was, I found afterwards, a most happy circumstance for the promotion of the cause, which I had then so deeply at heart, as it led me to the knowledge of several of those, who became afterwards material coadjutors in it. It was also of great importance to me with respect to the work itself. For he possessed an acute penetration, a solid judgment, and a many alterations and additions he proposed, and which I believe I uniformly adopted, after mature consideration, from a sense of their real value. It was advantageous to me also, inasmuch as it led me to his friendship, which was never interrupted but by his death. On my second visit to James Phillips, at which time I brought him about half my manuscript for the press, I desired him to introduce me to William Dillwyn, as he also had mentioned him to me on my first visit, and as I had not seen Mr. Hancock since. Matters were accordingly arranged, and a day appointed before I left him. On this day I had my first interview with my new friend. Two or three others of his own religious society were present, but who they were I do not now recollect. There seemed to be a great desire among them to know the motive by which I had been actuated in contending for the prize. I told them frankly, that I had no motive but that which other young men in the University had on such occasions; namely, the wish of being distinguished, or of obtaining literary honour; but that I had felt so deeply on the subject of it, that I had lately interested myself in it from a motive of duty. My conduct seemed to be highly approved by those present, and much conversation ensued, but it was of a general nature. As William Dillwyn wished very much to see me at his house at Walthamstow, I appointed the thirteenth of March to spend the day with him there. We talked for the most part, during my stay, on the subject of my Essay. I soon discovered the treasure I had met with in his local knowledge, both of the Slave-trade and of slavery, as they existed in the United States, and I gained from him several facts, which with his permission I afterwards inserted in my work. But how surprised was I to hear in the course of our conversation of the labours of Granville Sharp, of the writings of Ramsay, and of the controversy in which the latter was engaged, of all which I had hitherto known nothing! How surprised was I to learn, that William Dillwyn himself, had two years before associated himself with five others for the purpose of enlightening the public mind upon this great subject! How astonished was I to find that a society had been formed in America for the same object, with some of the principal members of which he was intimately acquainted! And how still more astonished at the inference which instantly rushed upon my mind, that he was capable of being made the great medium of connection between them all. These thoughts almost overpowered me. I believe that after this I talked but little more to my friend. My mind was overwhelmed with the thought that I had been providentially directed to his house; that the finger of Providence was beginning to be discernible; that the daystar of African liberty was rising, and that probably I might be permitted to become a humble instrument in promoting it. In the course of attending to my work, as now in the press, James Phillips introduced me also to Granville Sharp, with whom I had afterwards many interesting interviews from time to time, and whom I discovered to be a distant relation by my father's side. He introduced me also by letter to a correspondence with Mr. Ramsay, who in a short time afterwards came to London to see me. He introduced me also to his cousin, Richard Phillip of Lincoln's Inn, who was at that time on the point of joining the religious society of the Quakers. In him I found much sympathy, and a willingness to cooperate with me. When dull and disconsolate, he encouraged me. When in spirits, he stimulated me further. Him I am now to mention as a new, but soon afterwards as an active and indefatigable coadjutor in the cause. But I shall say more concerning him in a future chapter. I shall only now add, that my work was at length printed; that it was entitled, An Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the human Species, particularly the African, translated from a Latin Dissertation, which was honoured with the First Prize in the University of Cambridge, for the Year 1785; with Additions;--and that it was ushered into the world in the month of June 1786, or in about a year after it had been read in the Senate-house in its first form. CHAPTER VIII. _Continuation of the fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to 1787--Bennet Langton--Dr. Baker--Lord and Lady Scarsdale--Author visits Ramsay at Teston--Lady Middleton and Sir Charles (now Lord Barham)--Author declares himself at the house of the latter ready now to devote himself to the cause--reconsiders this declaration or pledge--his reasoning and struggle upon it--persists in it--returns to London--and pursues the work as now a business of his life._ I had purposed, as I said before, when I determined to publish my Essay, to wait to see how the world would receive it, or what disposition there would be in the public to favour my measures for the abolition of the Slave-trade. But the conversation, which I had held on the thirteenth of March with William Dillwyn, continued to make such an impression upon me, that I thought now there could be no occasion for waiting for such a purpose. It seemed now only necessary to go forward. Others I found had already begun the work. I had been thrown suddenly among these, as into a new world of friends. I believed also that a way was opening under Providence for support. And I now thought that nothing remained for me but to procure as many coadjutors as I could. I had long had the honour of the friendship of Mr. Bennet Langton, and I determined to carry him one of my books, and to interest his feelings in it, with a view of procuring his assistance in the cause. Mr. Langton was a gentleman of an ancient family, and respectable fortune in Lincolnshire, but resided then in Queen's-square, Westminster. He was known as the friend of Dr. Johnson, Jonas Hanway, Edmund Burke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and others. Among his acquaintance indeed were most of the literary, and eminent professional, and public-spirited, men of the times. At court also he was well known and had the esteem of his present Majesty, with whom he frequently conversed. His friends were numerous also in both houses of the legislature. As to himself, he was much noted for his learning, but most of all for the great example he gave with respect to the usefulness and integrity of his life. By introducing my work to the sanction of a friend of such high character and extensive connections, I thought I should be doing great things. And so the event proved. For when I went to him after he had read it, I found that it had made a deep impression upon his mind. As a friend to humanity he lamented over the miseries of the oppressed Africans, and over the crimes of their tyrants as a friend to morality and religion. He cautioned me, however, against being too sanguine in my expectations, as so many thousands were interested in continuing the trade. Justice, however, which he said weighed with him beyond all private or political interest, demanded a public inquiry, and he would assist me to the utmost of his power in my attempts towards it. From this time he became a zealous and active coadjutor in the cause, and continued so to the end of his valuable life. The next person, to whom I gave my work with a like view, was Dr. Baker, a clergyman of the Establishment, and with whom I had been in habits of intimacy for some time. Dr. Baker was a learned and pious man. He had performed the duties of his profession from the time of his initiation into the church in an exemplary manner, not only by paying a proper attention to the customary services, but by the frequent visitation of the sick and the instruction of the poor. This he had done too to admiration in a particularly extensive parish. At the time I knew him he had May-fair chapel, of which an unusual portion of the congregation consisted then of persons of rank and fortune. With most of these he had a personal acquaintance. This was of great importance to me in the promotion of my views. Having left him my book for a month, I called upon him. The result was that which I expected from so good a man. He did not wait for me to ask him for his cooperation, but he offered his services in any way which I might think most eligible, feeling it his duty, as he expressed it, to become an instrument in exposing such a complication of guilt and misery to the world. Dr. Baker became from this time an active coadjutor also, and continued so to his death. The person, to whom I sent my work next, was the late lord Scarsdale, whose family I had known for about two years. Both he and his lady read it with attention. They informed me, after the perusal of it, that both of them were desirous of assisting me in promoting the cause of the poor Africans. Lady Scarsdale lamented that she might possibly offend near and dear connections, who had interests in the West Indies, by so doing; but that conscious of no intention to offend these, and considering the duties of religion to be the first to be attended to, she should be pleased to become useful in so good a cause. Lord Scarsdale also assured me, that, if the subject should ever come before the house of lords, it should have his constant support. While attempting to make friends in this manner, I received a letter from Mr. Ramsay, with an invitation to spend a month at his house at Teston, near Maidstone in Kent. This I accepted, that I might communicate to him the progress I had made, that I might gain more knowledge from him on the subject, and that I might acquire new strength and encouragement to proceed. On hearing my account of my proceedings, which I detailed to him on the first evening of our meeting, he seemed almost overpowered with joy. He said he had been long of opinion, that the release of the Africans from the scourges of this cruel trade, was within the determined views of Providence, and that by turning the public attention to their misery, we should be the instruments of beginning the good work. He then informed me how long he himself had had their cause at heart; that, communicating his feelings to sir Charles Middleton (now lord Barham) and his lady, the latter had urged him to undertake a work in their behalf; that her importunities were great respecting it; and that he had on this account, and in obedience also to his own feelings, as has been before mentioned, begun it; but that, foreseeing the censure and abuse, which such a subject, treated in any possible manner, must bring upon the author, he had laid it aside for some time. He had, however, resumed it at the solicitation of Dr. Porteus, then bishop of Chester, after which, in the year 1784, it made its appearance in the world. I was delighted with this account on the first evening of my arrival; but more particularly as I collected from it, that I might expect in the bishop of Chester and sir Charles Middleton, two new friends to the cause. This expectation was afterwards fully realized, as the reader will see in its proper place. But I was still more delighted, when I was informed that sir Charles and lady Middleton, with Mrs. Bouverie, lived at Teston-hall, in a park, which was but a few yards from the house in which I then was. In the morning I desired an introduction to them, which accordingly took place, and I found myself much encouraged and supported by this visit. It is not necessary, nor indeed is there room, to detail my employments in this village, or the lonely walks I took there, or the meditations of my mind at such seasons. I will therefore come at once to a particular occurrence. When at dinner one day with the family at Teston-hall, I was much pleased with the turn which the conversation had taken on the subject, and in the joy of my heart, I exclaimed that, "I was ready to devote myself to the cause." This brought great commendation from those present; and Sir Charles Middleton added, that if I wanted any information in the course of my future inquiries relative to Africa, which he could procure me as comptroller of the navy, such as extracts from the journals of the ships of war to that continent, or from other papers, I should have free access to his office. This offer I received with thankfulness, and it operated as a new encouragement to me to proceed. The next morning, when I awoke, one of the first things that struck me was, that I had given a pledge to the company the day before, that I would devote myself to the cause of the oppressed Africans. I became a little uneasy at this. I questioned whether I had considered matters sufficiently to be able to go so far with propriety. I determined therefore to give the subject a full consideration, and accordingly I walked to the place of my usual meditations, the woods. Having now reached a place of solitude, I began to balance every thing on both sides of the question. I considered first, that I had not yet obtained information sufficient on the subject, to qualify me for the undertaking of such a work. But I reflected, on the other hand, that Sir Charles Middleton had just opened to me a new source of knowledge; that I should be backed by the local information of Dillwyn and Ramsay, and that surely, by taking pains, I could acquire more. I then considered, that I had not yet a sufficient number of friends to support me. This occasioned me to review them. I had now Sir Charles Middleton, who was in the House of Commons. I was sure of Dr. Porteus, who was in the House of Lords. I could count upon Lord Scarsdale, who was a peer also. I had secured Mr. Langton, who had a most extensive acquaintance with members of both houses of the legislature. I had also secured Dr. Baker, who had similar connections. I could depend upon Granville Sharp, James Phillips, Richard Phillips, Ramsay, Dillwyn, and the little commitee to which he belonged, as well as the whole society of the Quakers. I thought therefore upon the whole, that, considering the short time I had been at work, I was well off with respect to support; I believed also that there were still several of my own acquaintance, whom I could interest in the question, and I did not doubt that, by exerting myself diligently, persons, who were then strangers to me, would be raised up in time. I considered next, that it was impossible for a great cause like this to be forwarded without large pecuniary funds. I questioned whether some thousand pounds would not be necessary, and from whence was such a sum to come? In answer to this, I persuaded myself that generous people would be found, who would unite with me in contributing their mite towards the undertaking, and I seemed confident that, as the Quakers had taken up the cause as a religious body, they would not be behind-hand in supporting it. I considered lastly, that, if I took up the question, I must devote myself wholly to it. I was sensible that a little labour now and then would be inadequate to the purpose, or that, where the interests of so many thousand persons were likely to be affected, constant exertion would be necessary. I felt certain that, if ever the matter were to be taken up, there could be no hope of success, except it should be taken up by some one, who would make it an object or business of his life. I thought too that a man's life might not be more than adequate to the accomplishment of the end. But I knew of no one who could devote such a portion of time to it. Sir Charles Middleton, though he was so warm and zealous, was greatly occupied in the discharge of his office. Mr. Langton spent a great portion of his time in the education of his children. Dr. Baker had a great deal to do in the performance of his parochial duty. The Quakers were almost all of them in trade. I could look therefore to no person but myself; and the question was, whether I was prepared to make the sacrifice. In favour of the undertaking I urged to myself, that never was any cause, which had been taken up by man in any country or in any age, so great and important; that never was there one in which so much misery was heard to cry for redress; that never was there one, in which so much good could be done; never one, in which the duty of Christian charity could be so extensively exercised; never one, more worthy of the devotion of a whole life towards it; and that, if a man thought properly, he ought to rejoice to have been called into existence, if he were only permitted to become an instrument in forwarding it in any part of its progress. Against these sentiments on the other hand I had to urge, that I had been designed for the church; that I had already advanced as far as deacon's orders in it; that my prospects there on account of my connections were then brilliant: that, by appearing to desert my profession, my family would be dissatisfied, if not unhappy. These thoughts pressed upon me, and rendered the conflict difficult. But the sacrifice of my prospects staggered me, I own, the most. When the other objections, which I have related, occurred to me, my enthusiasm instantly, like a flash of lightning, consumed them: but this stuck to me, and troubled me. I had ambition. I had a thirst after worldly interest and honours, and I could not extinguish it at once. I was more than two hours in solitude under this painful conflict. At length I yielded, not because I saw any reasonable prospect of success in my new undertaking (for all cool-headed and cool-hearted men would have pronounced against it), but in obedience, I believe, to a higher Power. And this I can say, that both, on the moment of this resolution, and for some time afterwards I had more sublime and happy feelings than at any former period of my life. Having now made up my mind on the subject, I informed Mr. Ramsay, that in a few days I should be leaving Teston, that I might begin my labours, according to the pledge I had given him. CHAPTER IX. _Continuation of the fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to 1787--Author resolves upon the distribution of his Book--Mr. Sheldon--Sir Herbert Mackworth--Lord Newhaven--Lord Balgonie (now Leven)--Lord Hawke--Bishop Porteus--Author visits African vessels in the Thames--and various persons for further information--Visits also Members of Parliament --Sir Richard Hill--Mr. Powys (late Lord Lilford) Mr. Wilberforce and others--Conduct of the latter on this occasion._ On my return to London, I called upon William Dillwyn, to inform him of the resolution I had made at Teston, and found him at his town lodgings in the Poultry. I informed him also, that I had a letter of introduction in my pocket from Sir Charles Middleton to Samuel Hoare, with whom I was to converse on the subject. The latter gentleman had interested himself the year before as one of the commitee for the Black poor in London, whom Mr. Sharp was sending under the auspices of government to Sierra Leone. He was also, as the reader may see by looking back, a member of the second class of coadjutors, or of the little commitee which had branched out of the Quakers in England as before described. William Dillwyn said he would go with me and introduce me himself. On our arrival in Lombard-street, I saw my new friend, with whom we conversed for some time. From thence I proceeded, accompanied by both, to the house of James Phillips in George-yard, to whom I was desirous of communicating my resolution also. We found him at home, conversing with a friend of the same religious society, whose name was Joseph Gurney Bevan. I then repeated my resolution before them all. We had much friendly and satisfactory conversation together. I received much encouragement on every side, and I fixed to meet them again at the place where we then were in three days. On the evening of the same day I waited upon Granville Sharp to make the same communication to him. He received it with great pleasure, and he hoped I should have strength to proceed. From thence I went to the Baptist-head coffee-house, in Chancery-lane, and having engaged with the master of the house, that I should always have one private room to myself when I wanted it, I took up my abode there, in order to be near my friend Richard Phillips of Lincoln's Inn, from whose advice and assistance I had formed considerable expectations. The first matter for our deliberation, after we had thus become neighbours, was, what plan I ought to pursue to give effect to the resolution I had taken. After having discussed the matter two or three times at his chambers, it seemed to be our opinion, That, as members of the legislature could do more to the purpose in this question than any other persons, it would be proper to circulate all the remaining copies of my work among these, in order that they might thus obtain information upon the subject. Secondly, That it would be proper that I should wait personally upon several of these also. And thirdly, That I should be endeavouring in the interim to enlarge my own knowledge, that I might thus be enabled to answer the various objections, which might be advanced on the other side of the question, as well as become qualified to be a manager of the cause. On the third day, or at the time appointed, I went with Richard Phillips to George-yard, Lombard-street, where I met all my friends as before. I communicated to them the opinion we had formed at Lincoln's Inn, relative to my future proceedings in the three different branches as now detailed. They approved the plan. On desiring a number of my books to be sent to me at my new lodgings for the purpose of distribution, Joseph Gurney Bevan, who was stated to have been present at the former interview, seemed uneasy, and at length asked me if I was going to distribute these at my own expense. I replied, I was. He appealed immediately to those present whether it ought to be allowed. He asked whether, when a young man was giving up his time from morning till night, they, who applauded his pursuit and seemed desirous of cooperating with him, should allow him to make such a sacrifice, or whether they should not at least secure him from loss; and he proposed directly that the remaining part of the edition should be taken off by subscription, and, in order that my feelings might not be hurt from any supposed stain arising from the thought of gaining any thing by such a proposal, they should be paid for only at the prime cost. I felt myself much obliged to him for this tender consideration about me, and particularly for the latter part of it, under which alone I accepted the offer. Samuel Hoare was charged with the management of the subscription, and the books were to be distributed as I had proposed, and in any way which I myself might prescribe. This matter having been determined upon, my first care was that the books should be put into proper hands. Accordingly I went round among my friends from day to day, wishing to secure this before I attended to any of the other objects. In this I was much assisted by my friend Richard Phillips. Mr. Langton began the distribution of them. He made a point either of writing to or of calling upon those, to whom he sent them. Dr. Baker took the charge of several for the same purpose. Lord and Lady Scarsdale of others. Sir Charles and Lady Middleton of others. Mr. Sheldon, at the request of Richard Phillips, introduced me by letter to several members of parliament, to whom I wished to deliver them myself. Sir Herbert Mackworth, when spoken to by the latter, offered his services also. He seemed to be particularly interested in the cause. He went about to many of his friends in the House of Commons, and this from day to day, to procure their favour towards it. Lord Newhaven was applied to, and distributed some. Lord Balgonie (now Leven) took a similar charge. The late Lord Hawke, who told me that he had long felt for the sufferings of the injured Africans, desired to be permitted to take his share of the distribution among members of the House of Lords, and Dr. Porteus, now bishop of London, became another coadjutor in the same work. This distribution of my books having been consigned to proper hands, I began to qualify myself, by obtaining further knowledge, for the management of this great cause. As I had obtained the principal part of it from reading, I thought I ought now to see what could be seen, and to know from living persons what could be known, on the subject. With respect to the first of these points, the river Thames presented itself as at hand. Ships were going occasionally from the port of London to Africa, and why could I not get on board them and examine for myself? After diligent inquiry, I heard of one which had just arrived. I found her to be a little wood-vessel, called the Lively, captain Williamson, or one which traded to Africa in the natural productions of the country, such as ivory, beeswax, Malaguetta pepper, palm-oil, and dye-woods. I obtained specimens of some of these, so that I now became possessed of some of those things of which I had only read before. On conversing with the mate, he showed me one or two pieces of the cloth made by the natives, and from their own cotton. I prevailed upon him to sell me a piece of each. Here new feelings arose, and particularly when I considered that persons of so much apparent ingenuity, and capable of such beautiful work as the Africans, should be made slaves, and reduced to a level with the brute creation. My reflections here on the better use which might be made of Africa by the substitution of another trade, and on the better use which might be made of her inhabitants, served greatly to animate, and to sustain me amidst the labour of my pursuits. The next vessel I boarded was the Fly, captain Colley:--Here I found myself for the first time on the deck of a slave-vessel.--The sight of the rooms below and of the gratings above, and of the barricade across the deck, and the explanation of the uses of all these, filled me both with melancholy and horror. I found soon afterwards a fire of indignation kindling within me. I had now scarce patience to talk with those on board. I had not the coolness this first time to go leisurely over the places that were open to me.--I got away quickly.--But that which I thought I saw horrible in this vessel had the same effect upon me as that which I thought I had seen agreeable in the other, namely, to animate and to invigorate me in my pursuit. But I will not trouble the reader with any further account of my water-expeditions, while attempting to perfect my knowledge on this subject. I was equally assiduous in obtaining intelligence wherever it could be had; and being now always on the watch, I was frequently falling in with individuals, from whom I gained something. My object was to see all who had been in Africa, but more particularly those who had never been interested, or who at any rate were not then interested, in the trade. I gained accordingly access very early to General Rooke; to Lieutenant Dalrymple, of the army; to Captain Fiddes, of the engineers; to the reverend Mr. Newton; to Mr. Nisbett, a surgeon in the Minories; to Mr. Devaynes, who was then in parliament, and to many others; and I made it a rule to put down in writing, after every conversation, what had taken place in the course of it. By these means things began to unfold themselves to me more and more, and I found my stock of knowledge almost daily on the increase. While, however, I was forwarding this, I was not inattentive to the other object of my pursuit, which was that of waiting upon members personally. The first I called upon was Sir Richard Hill.--At the first interview he espoused the cause. I waited then upon others, and they professed themselves friendly; but they seemed to make this profession more from the emotion of good hearts, revolting at the bare mention of the Slave-trade, than from any knowledge concerning it. One, however, whom I visited, Mr. Powys (the late Lord Lilford), with whom I had been before acquainted in Northamptonshire, seemed to doubt some of the facts in my book, from a belief that human nature was not capable of proceeding to such a pitch of wickedness. I asked him to name his facts. He selected the case of the hundred-and-thirty-two slaves who were thrown alive into the sea to defraud the underwriters. I promised to satisfy him fully upon this point, and went immediately to Granville Sharp, who lent me his account of the trial, as reported at large from the notes of the short-hand writer, whom he had employed on the occasion. Mr. Powys read the account.--He became, in consequence of it, convinced, as, indeed, he could not otherwise be, of the truth of what I had asserted, and he declared at the same time that, if this were true, there was nothing so horrible related of this trade, which might not immediately be believed. Mr. Powys had been always friendly to this question, but now he took a part in the distribution of my books. Among those, whom I visited, was Mr. Wilberforce. On my first interview with him, he stated frankly, that the subject had often employed his thoughts, and that it was near his heart. He seemed earnest about it, and also very desirous of taking the trouble of inquiring further into it. Having read my book, which I had delivered to him in person, he sent for me. He expressed a wish that I would make him acquainted with some of my authorities for the assertions in it, which I did afterwards to his satisfaction. He asked me if I could support it by any other evidence. I told him I could.--I mentioned Mr. Newton, Mr. Nisbett, and several others to him. He took the trouble of sending for all these. He made memorandums of their conversation, and, sending for me afterwards, showed them to me. On learning my intention to devote myself to the cause, he paid me many handsome compliments. He then desired me to call upon him often, and to acquaint him with my progress from time to time. He expressed also his willingness to afford me any assistance in his power in the prosecution of my pursuits. The carrying on of these different objects, together with the writing which was connected with them, proved very laborious, and occupied almost all my time. I was seldom engaged less than sixteen hours in the day. When I left Teston to begin the pursuit as an object of my life, I promised my friend Mr. Ramsay a weekly account of my progress. At the end of the first week my letter to him contained little more than a sheet of paper. At the end of the second it contained three; at the end of the third six; and at the end of the fourth I found it would be so voluminous, that I was obliged to decline writing it. CHAPTER X. _Continuation of the fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to 1787--Author goes on to enlarge his knowledge in the different departments of the subject--communicates more frequently with Mr. Wilberforce--Meetings now appointed at the house of the latter--Dinner at Mr. Langton's--Mr. Wilberforce pledges himself there to take up the subject in parliament--Remarkable junction, in consequence, of all the four classes of forerunners and coadjutors before mentioned--commitee formed out of these on the 22d of May, 1787, for the abolition of the Slave-trade._ The manner in which Mr. Wilberforce had received me, and the pains which he had taken, and was still taking, to satisfy himself of the truth of those enormities which had been charged upon the Slave-trade, tended much to enlarge my hope, that they might become at length the subject of a parliamentary inquiry. Richard Phillips also, to whom I made a report at his chambers almost every evening of the proceedings of the day, had begun to entertain a similar expectation. Of course, we unfolded our thoughts to one another. From hence a desire naturally sprung up in each of us to inquire, whether any alteration in consequence of this new prospect should be made in my pursuits. On deliberating upon this point, it seemed proper to both of us, that the distribution of the books should be continued; that I should still proceed in enlarging my own knowledge; and that I should still wait upon members of the legislature, but with this difference, that I should never lose sight of Mr. Wilberforce, but, on the other hand, that I should rather omit visiting some others, than paying a proper attention to him. One thing however appeared now to be necessary, which had not yet been done. This was to inform our friends in the city, upon whom I had all along occasionally called, that we believed the time was approaching, when it would be desirable that we should unite our labours, if they saw no objection to such a measure; for, if the Slave-trade were to become a subject of parliamentary inquiry with a view to the annihilation of it, no individual could perform the work which would be necessary for such a purpose. This work must be a work of many; and who so proper to assist in it as they, who had before so honourably laboured in it? In the case of such an event large funds also would be wanted, and who so proper to procure and manage them as these? A meeting was accordingly called at the house of James Phillips, when these our views were laid open. When I stated that from the very time of my hopes beginning to rise I had always had those present in my eye as one day to be fellow-labourers, William Dillwyn replied, that from the time they had first heard of the Prize Essay, they also had had their eyes upon me, and, from the time they had first seen me, had conceived a desire of making the same use of me as I had now expressed a wish of making of them, but that matters did not appear ripe at our first interview. Our proposal, however, was approved, and an assurance was given, that an union should take place, as soon as it was judged to be seasonable. It was resolved also, that one day in the week[A] should be appointed for a meeting at the house of James Phillips, where as many might attend as had leisure, and that I should be there to make a report of my progress, by which we might all judge of the fitness of the time of calling ourselves an united body. Pleased now with the thought that matters were put into such a train, I returned to my former objects. [Footnote A: At these weekly meetings I met occasionally Joseph Woods, George Harrison, and John Lloyd, three of the other members, who belonged to the commitee of the second class of forerunners and coadjutors as before described. I had seen all of them before, but I do not recollect the time when I first met them.] It is not necessary to say any thing more of the first of these objects, which was that of the further distribution of my book, than that it was continued, and chiefly by the same hands. With respect to the enlargement of my knowledge, it was promoted likewise. I now gained access to the Custom-house in London, where I picked up much valuable information for my purpose. Having had reason to believe that the Slave-trade was peculiarly fatal to those employed in it, I wished much to get copies of many of the muster-rolls from the Custom-house at Liverpool for a given time. James Phillips wrote to his friend William Rathbone, who was one of his own religious society, and who resided there, to procure them. They were accordingly sent up. The examination of these, which took place at the chambers of Richard Phillips, was long and tedious. We looked over them together. We usually met for this purpose at nine in the evening, and we seldom parted till one, and sometimes not till three in the morning. When our eyes were inflamed by the candle, or tired by fatigue, we used to relieve ourselves by walking out within the precincts of Lincoln's Inn, when all seemed to be fast asleep, and thus, as it were, in solitude and in stillness to converse upon them, as well as upon the best means of the further promotion of our cause. These scenes of our early friendship and exertions I shall never forget. I often think of them both with astonishment and with pleasure. Having recruited ourselves in this manner, we used to return to our work. From these muster-rolls I may now observe, that we gained the most important information. We ascertained beyond the power of contradiction, that more than half of the seamen, who went out with the ships in the Slave-trade, did not return with them, and that of these so many perished, as amounted to one-fifth of all employed. As to what became of the remainder, the muster-rolls did not inform us. This, therefore, was left to us as a subject for our future inquiry. In endeavouring to enlarge my knowledge, my thoughts were frequently turned to the West Indian part of the question, and in this department my friend Richard Phillips gained me important intelligence. He put into my hands several documents concerning estates in the West Indies, which he had mostly from the proprietors themselves, where the slaves by mild and prudent usage had so increased in population, as to supersede the necessity of the Slave-trade. By attending to these and to various other parts of the subject, I began to see as it were with new eyes: I was enabled to make several necessary discriminations, to reconcile things before seemingly contradictory, and to answer many objections which had hitherto put on a formidable shape. But most of all was I rejoiced at the thought that I should soon be able to prove that which I had never doubted, but which had hitherto been beyond my power in this case, that Providence, in ordaining laws relative to the agency of man, had never made that to be wise which was immoral, and that the Slave-trade would be found as impolitic as it was inhuman and unjust. In keeping up my visits to members of parliament, I was particularly attentive to Mr. Wilberforce, whom I found daily becoming more interested in the fate of Africa. I now made to him a regular report of my progress, of the sentiments of those in parliament whom I had visited, of the disposition of my friends in the City of whom he had often heard me speak, of my discoveries from the Custom-houses of London and Liverpool, of my documents concerning West India estates, and of all, indeed, that had occurred to me worth mentioning. He had himself also been making his inquiries, which he communicated to me in return. Our intercourse had now become frequent, no one week elapsing without an interview. At one of these, I suggested to him the propriety of having occasional meetings at his own house, consisting of a few friends in parliament, who might converse on the subject. Of this he approved. The persons present at the first meeting were Mr. Wilberforce, the Honourable John Villiers, Mr. Powys, Sir Charles Middleton, Sir Richard Hill, Mr. Granville Sharp, Mr. Ramsay, Dr. Gregory, (who had written on the subject, as before mentioned,) and myself. At this meeting I read a paper, giving an account of the light I had collected in the course of my inquiries, with observations as well on the impolicy as on the wickedness of the trade. Many questions arose out of the reading of this little Essay. Many answers followed. Objections were started and canvassed. In short, this measure was found so useful, that certain other evenings as well as mornings were fixed upon for the same purpose. On reporting my progress to my friends in the City, several of whom now assembled once in the week, as I mentioned before to have been agreed upon, and particularly on reporting the different meetings which had taken place at the house of Mr. Wilberforce, on the subject, they were of opinion that the time was approaching when we might unite, and that this union might prudently commence as soon as ever Mr. Wilberforce would give his word that he would take up the question in parliament. Upon this I desired to observe, that though the latter gentleman had pursued the subject with much earnestness, he had never yet dropped the least hint that he would proceed so far in the matter, but I would take care that the question should be put to him, and I would bring them his answer. In consequence of the promise I had now made, I went to Mr. Wilberforce. But when I saw him, I seemed unable to inform him of the object of my visit. Whether this inability arose from any sudden fear that his answer might not be favourable, or from a fear that I might possibly involve him in a long and arduous contest upon this subject, or whether it arose from an awful sense of the importance of the mission, as it related to the happiness of hundreds of thousands then alive and of millions then unborn, I cannot say. But I had a feeling within me for which I could not account, and which seemed to hinder me from proceeding. And I actually went away without informing him of my errand. In this situation I began to consider what to do, when I thought I would call upon Mr. Langton, tell him what had happened, and ask his advice. I found him at home. We consulted together. The result was, that he was to invite Mr. Wilberforce and some others to meet me at a dinner at his own house, in two or three days, when he said he had no doubt of being able to procure an answer, by some means or other, to the question which I wished to have resolved. On receiving a card from Mr. Langton, I went to dine with him. I found the party to consist of Sir Charles Middleton, Mr. Wilberforce, Mr. Hawkins Browne, Mr. Windham, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Mr. Boswell. The latter was then known as the friend of Dr. Johnson, and afterwards as the writer of his Tour to the Hebrides. After dinner the subject of the Slave-trade was purposely introduced. Many questions were put to me, and I dilated upon each in my answers, that I might inform and interest those present as much as I could. They seemed to be greatly impressed with my account of the loss of seamen in the trade, and with the little samples of African cloth, which I had procured for their inspection. Sir Joshua Reynolds gave his unqualified approbation of the abolition of this cruel traffic. Mr. Hawkins Browne joined heartily with him in sentiment; he spoke with much feeling upon it, and pronounced it to be barbarous, and contrary to every principle of morality and religion. Mr. Boswell, after saying the planters would urge that the Africans were made happier by being carried from their own country to the West Indies, observed, "Be it so. But we have no right to make people happy against their will." Mr. Windham, when it was suggested that the great importance of our West Indian islands, and the grandeur of Liverpool, would be brought against those who should propose the abolition of the Slave-trade, replied, "We have nothing to do with the policy of the measure. Rather let Liverpool and the Islands be swallowed up in the sea, than this monstrous system of iniquity be carried on[A]." While such conversation was passing, and when all appeared to be interested in the cause, Mr. Langton put the question, about the proposal of which I had been so diffident, to Mr. Wilberforce, in the shape of a delicate compliment. The latter replied, that he had no objection to bring forward the measure in parliament, when he was better prepared for it, and provided no person more proper could be found. Upon this, Mr. Hawkins Browne and Mr. Windham both said they would support him there. Before I left the company, I took Mr. Wilberforce aside, and asked him if I might mention this his resolution to those of my friends in the City, of whom he had often heard me speak, as desirous of aiding him by becoming a commitee for the purpose. He replied, I might. I then asked Mr. Langton, privately, if he had any objection to belong to a society of which there might be a commitee for the abolition of the Slave-trade. He said he should be pleased to become a member of it. Having received these satisfactory answers, I returned home. [Footnote A: I do not know upon what grounds, after such strong expressions, Mr. Boswell, in the next year, and Mr. Windham, after having supported the cause for three or four years, became inimical to it.] The next day, having previously taken down the substance of the conversation at the dinner, I went to James Phillips, and desired that our friends might be called together as soon as they conveniently could, to hear my report. In the interim I wrote to Dr. Peckard, and waited upon Lord Scarsdale, Dr. Baker, and others, to know (supposing a society were formed for the abolition of the Slave-trade) if I might say they would belong to it? All of them replied in the affirmative, and desired me to represent them, if there should be any meeting for this purpose. At the time appointed, I met my friends. I read over the substance of the conversation which had taken place at Mr. Langton's. No difficulty occurred. All were unanimous for the formation of a commitee. On the next day we met by agreement for this purpose. It was then resolved unanimously, among other things, That the Slave-trade was both impolitic and unjust. It was resolved also, That the following persons be a commitee for procuring such information and evidence, and publishing the same, as may tend to the abolition of the Slave-trade, and for directing the application of such moneys as have been already, and may hereafter be collected for the above purpose. Granville Sharp. William Dillwyn. Samuel Hoare. George Harrison. John Lloyd. Joseph Woods. Thomas Clarkson. Richard Phillips. John Barton. Joseph Hooper. James Phillips. Philip Sansom. All these were present. Granville Sharp, who stands at the head of the list, and who, as the father of the cause in England, was called to the chair, may be considered as representing the first class of forerunners and coadjutors, as it has been before described. The five next, of whom Samuel Hoare was chosen as the treasurer, were they who had been the commitee of the second class, or of the Quakers in England, with the exception of Dr. Knowles, who was then dying, but who, having heard of our meeting, sent a message to us, to exhort us to proceed. The third class, of that of the Quakers in America, may be considered as represented by William Dillwyn, by whom they were afterwards joined to us in correspondence. The two who stand next, and in which I am included, may be considered as representing the fourth, most of the members of which we had been the means of raising. Thus, on the twenty-second of May 1787, the representatives of all the four classes, of which I have been giving a history from the year 1516, met together, and were united in that commitee, to which I have been all along directing the attention of the reader; a commitee, which, labouring afterwards with Mr. Wilberforce as a parliamentary head, did, under Providence, in the space of twenty years, contribute to put an end to a trade, which, measuring its magnitude, by its crimes and sufferings, was the greatest practical evil that ever afflicted the human race. After the formation of the commitee[A], notice was sent to Mr. Wilberforce of the event, and a friendship began, which has continued uninterruptedly between them, from that to the present day. [Footnote A: All the members were of the society of the Quakers, except Mr. Sharp, Sansom, and myself. Joseph Gurney Bevan was present on the day before this meeting. He desired to belong to the society, but to be excused from belonging to the commitee.] [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XI. _The preceding history of the different classes of the forerunners and coadjutors, to the time of the formation of the commitee, collected into one view by means of a map--Explanation of this map--and observations upon it._ As the preceding history of the different classes of the forerunners and coadjutors, to the time of their junction, or to the formation of the commitee, as just explained, may be thought interesting by many, I have endeavoured, by means of the annexed map, so to bring it before the reader, that he may comprehend the whole of it at a single view. The figure beginning at A and reaching down to X represents the first class of forerunners and coadjutors up to the year 1787, as consisting of so many springs or rivulets, which assisted in making and swelling the torrent which swept away the Slave-trade. The figure from B to C and from C to X represents the second class, or that of the Quakers in England, up to the same time. The stream on the right-hand represents them as a body, and that on the left, the six individuals belonging to them, who formed the commitee in 1783. The figure from B to D represents the third class, or that of the Quakers in America when joined with others in 1774. The stream passing from D through E to X shows how this class was conveyed down, as it were, so as to unite with the second. That passing from D to Y shows its course in its own country, to its enlargement in 1787. And here I may observe, that as the different streams which formed a junction at X, were instrumental in producing the abolition of the Slave-trade in England, in the month of March 1807, so those, whose effects are found united at Y, contributed to produce the same event in America, in the same month of the same year. The figure from F to X represents the fourth class up to 1787. X represents the junction of all the four classes in the commitee instituted in London on the twenty-second day of May, 1787. The parallel lines G, H, I, K, represent different periods of time, showing when the forerunners and coadjutors lived. The space between G and H includes the space of fifty years, in which we find but few labourers in this cause. That between H and I includes the same portion of time, in which we find them considerably increased, or nearly doubled. That between I and K represents the next thirty-seven years. But here we find their increase beyond all expectation, for we find four times more labourers in this short term, than in the whole of the preceding century. In looking over the map, as thus explained, a number of thoughts suggest themselves, some of which it may not be improper to detail. And first, in looking between the first and second parallel, we perceive, that Morgan Godwyn, Richard Baxter, and George Fox, the first a clergyman of the Established Church, the second a divine at the head of the Nonconformists, and the third the founder of the religious society of the Quakers, appeared each of them the first in his own class, and all of them about the same time, in behalf of the oppressed Africans. We see then this great truth first apparent, that the abolition of the Slave-trade took its rise, not from persons, who set up a cry for liberty, when they were oppressors themselves, nor from persons who were led to it by ambition, or a love of reputation among men, but where it was most desirable, namely, from the teachers of Christianity in those times. This account of its rise will furnish us with some important lessons. And first, it shows us the great value of religion. We see, when moral disorders become known, that the virtuous are they who rise up for the removal of them. Thus Providence seems to have appointed those, who devote themselves most to his service, to the honourable office of becoming so many agents, under his influence, for the correction of the evils of life. And as this account of the rise of the abolition of the Slave-trade teaches us the necessity of a due cultivation of religion, so it should teach us to have a brotherly affection for those, who, though they may differ from us in speculative opinions concerning it, do yet show by their conduct that they have a high regard for it. For though Godwyn, and Baxter, and Fox, differed as to the articles of their faith, we find them impelled by the spirit of christianity, which is of infinitely more importance than a mere agreement in creeds, to the same good end. In looking over the different streams in the map, as they are discoverable both in Europe and America, we are impressed with another truth on the same subject, which is, that the Christian religion is capable of producing the same good fruit in all lands. However men may differ on account of climate, or language, or government, or laws, or however they may be situated in different quarters of the globe, it will produce in them the same virtuous disposition, and make them instruments for the promotion of happiness in the world. In looking between the two first parallels, where we see so few labourers, and in contemplating the great increase of these between the others, we are taught the consoling lesson, that however small the beginning and slow the progress may appear in any good work which we may undertake, we need not be discouraged as to the ultimate result of our labours; for though our cause may appear stationary, it may only become so, in order that it may take a deeper root, and thus be enabled to stand better against the storms which may afterwards beat about it. In taking the same view again, we discover the manner in which light and information proceed under a free government in a good cause. An individual, for example, begins; he communicates his sentiments to others. Thus, while alive, he enlightens; when dead, he leaves his works behind him. Thus, though departed, he yet speaks, and his influence is not lost. Of those enlightened by him, some become authors, and others actors in their turn. While living, they instruct, like their predecessors; when dead, they speak also. Thus a number of dead persons are encouraging us in libraries, and a number of living are conversing and diffusing zeal among us at the same time. This, however, is not true in any free and enlightened country, with respect to the propagation of evil. The living find no permanent encouragement, and the dead speak to no purpose in such a case. This account of the manner in which light and information proceed in a free country, furnishes us with some valuable knowledge. It shows us, first, the great importance of education; for all they who can read may become enlightened. They may gain as much from the dead as from the living. They may see the sentiments of former ages. Thus they may contract, by degrees, habits of virtuous inclination, and become fitted to join with others in the removal of any of the evils of life. It shows us, secondly, how that encouraging maxim may become true, That no good effort is ever lost. For if he, who makes the virtuous attempt, should be prevented by death from succeeding in it, can he not speak, though in the tomb? Will not his works still breathe his sentiments upon it? May not the opinions, and the facts, which he has recorded, meet the approbation of ten thousand readers, of whom it is probable, in the common course of things, that some will branch out of him as authors, and others as actors or labourers, in the same cause? And, lastly, it will show us the difficulty (if any attempt should be made) of reversing permanently the late noble act of the legislature for the abolition of the Slave-trade. For let us consider how many, both of the living and the dead, could be made to animate us. Let us consider, too, that this is the cause of mercy, justice, and religion; that as such, it will always afford renewed means of rallying; and that the dead will always be heard with interest, and the living with enthusiasm, upon it. CHAPTER XII. _Author devotes this chapter to considerations relative to himself--fears that by the frequent introduction of himself to the notice of the reader he may incur the charge of ostentation--Observations on such a charge._ Having brought my History of the Abolition of the Slave-trade up to the month of May 1787, I purpose taking the liberty, before I proceed with it, to devote this chapter to considerations relative to myself. This, indeed, seems to be now necessary: for I have been fearful for some pages past, and, indeed, from the time when I began to introduce myself to the notice of the reader, as one of the forerunners and coadjutors in this great cause, that I might appear to have put myself into a situation too prominent, so as even to have incurred the charge of ostentation. But if there should be some, who, in consequence of what they have already read of this history, should think thus unfavourably of me, what must their opinion ultimately be, when, unfortunately, I must become still more prominent in it! Nor do I know in what manner I shall escape their censure. For if, to avoid egotism, I should write, as many have done, in the third person, what would this profit me? The delicate situation, therefore, in which I feel myself to be placed, makes me desirous of saying a few words to the reader on this subject. And first, I may observe, that several of my friends urged me from time to time, and this long before the abolition of the Slave-trade had been effected, to give a history of the rise and progress of the attempt, as far as it had been then made. But I uniformly resisted their application. When the question was decided last year, they renewed their request. They represented to me, that no person knew the beginning and progress of this great work so well as myself; that it was a pity that such knowledge should die with me; that such a history would be useful; that it would promote good feelings among men; that it would urge them to benevolent exertions; that it would supply them with hope in the midst of these; that it would teach them many valuable lessons:--these and other things were said to me. But, encouraging as they were, I never lost sight of the objection, which is the subject of this chapter; nor did I ever fail to declare, that though, considering the part I had taken in this great cause, I might be qualified better than some others, yet it was a task too delicate for me to perform. I always foresaw that I could not avoid making myself too prominent an object in such a history, and that I should be liable, on that account, to the suspicion of writing it for the purpose of sounding my own praise. With this objection my friends were not satisfied. They answered, that I might treat the History of the Abolition of the Slave-trade as a species of biography, or as the history of a part of my own life: that people, who had much less weighty matters to communicate, wrote their own histories; and that no one charged them with vanity for so doing. I own I was not convinced by this answer. I determined, however, in compliance with their wishes, to examine the objection more minutely, and to see if I could overcome it more satisfactorily to my own mind. With this view, I endeavoured to anticipate the course which such a history would take. I saw clearly, in the first place, that there were times, for months together, when the commitee for the abolition of the Slave-trade was labouring without me, and when I myself for an equal space of time was labouring in distant parts of the kingdom without them. Hence I perceived that, if my own exertions were left out, there would be repeated chasms in this history, and, indeed, that it could not be completed without the frequent mention of myself. And I was willing to hope that this would be so obvious to the good sense of the reader, that if he should think me vain-glorious in the early part of it, he would afterwards, when he advanced in the perusal of it, acquit me of such a charge. This consideration was the first, which removed my objection on this head. That there can be no ground for any charge of ostentation, as far as the origin of this history is concerned, so I hope to convince him there can be none, by showing him in what light I have always viewed myself in connection with the commitee, to which I have had the honour to belong. I have uniformly considered our commitee for the abolition of the Slave-trade, as we usually consider the human body, that is, as made up of a head and of various members, which had different offices to perform. Thus, if one man was an eye, another was an ear, another an arm, and another a foot. And here I may say, with great truth, that I believe no commitee was ever made up of persons, whose varied talents were better adapted to the work before them. Viewing then the commitee in this light, and myself as in connection with it, I may deduce those truths, with which the analogy will furnish me. And first, it will follow, that if every member has performed his office faithfully, though one may have done something more than another, yet no one of them in particular has any reason to boast. With what propriety could the foot, though in the execution of its duty it had become weary, say to the finger, "Thou hast done less than I;" when the finger could reply with truth, "I have done all that has been given me to do?" It will follow also, that as every limb is essentially necessary for the completion of a perfect work; so in the case before us, every one was as necessary in his own office, or department, as another. For what, for example, could I myself have done if I had not derived so much assistance from the commitee? What could Mr. Wilberforce have done in parliament, if I, on the other hand, had not collected that great body of evidence, to which there was such a constant appeal? And what could the commitee have done without the parliamentary aid of Mr. Wilberforce? And in mentioning this necessity of distinct offices and talents for the accomplishment of the great work, in which we have been all of us engaged, I feel myself bound by the feelings of justice to deliver it as my opinion in this place, (for, perhaps, I may have no other opportunity,) that knowing, as I have done, so many members of both houses of our legislature, for many of whom I have had a sincere respect, there was never yet one, who appeared to me to be so properly qualified, in all respects, for the management of the great cause of the abolition of the Slave-trade, as he, whose name I have just mentioned. His connections, but more particularly his acquaintance with the first minister of state, were of more service in the promotion of it, than they, who are but little acquainted with political movements, can well appreciate. His habits also of diligent and persevering inquiry made him master of all the knowledge that was requisite for conducting it. His talents both in and out of parliament made him a powerful advocate in its favour. His character, free from the usual spots of human imperfection, gave an appropriate lustre to the cause, making it look yet more lovely, and enticing others to its support. But most of all the motive, on which he undertook it, insured its progress. For this did not originate in views of selfishness, or of party, or of popular applause, but in an awful sense of his duty as a Christian. It was this, which gave him alacrity and courage in his pursuit. It was this, which made him continue in his elevated situation of a legislator, though it was unfavourable, if not to his health, at least to his ease and comfort. It was this, which made him incorporate this great object among the pursuits of his life, so that it was daily in his thoughts. It was this, which, when year after year of unsuccessful exertion returned, occasioned him to be yet fresh and vigorous in spirit, and to persevere till the day of triumph. But to return:--There is yet another consideration, which I shall offer to the reader on this subject, and with which I shall conclude it. It is this; that no one ought to be accused of vanity until he has been found to assume to himself some extraordinary merit. This being admitted, I shall now freely disclose the view, which I have always been desirous of taking of my own conduct on this occasion, in the following words:-- As Robert Barclay, the apologist for the Quakers, when he dedicated his work to Charles the Second, intimated to this prince, that any merit, which the work might have, would not be derived from his patronage of it, but from the Author of all spiritual good; so I say to the reader, with respect to myself, that I disclaim all praise on account of any part I may have taken in the promotion of this great cause, for that I am desirous above all things to attribute my best endeavours in it to the influence of a superior Power; of Him, I mean, who gave me a heart to feel--who gave me courage to begin--and perseverance to proceed--and that I am thankful to Him, and this with the deepest feeling of gratitude and humility, for having permitted me to become useful, in any degree, to my fellow-creatures. CHAPTER XIII. _Author returns to his History--commitee formed as before mentioned--its proceedings--Author produces a summary view of the Slave-trade and of the probable consequences of its abolition--Wrongs of Africa, by Mr. Roscoe, generously presented to the commitee--Important discussion as to the object of the commitee--Emancipation declared to be no part of it--commitee decides on its public title--Author requested to go to Bristol, Liverpool, and Lancaster, to collect further information on the subject of the trade._ I return now, after this long digression, to the continuation of my History. It was shown in the latter part of the tenth chapter, that twelve individuals, all of whom were then named, met together, by means which no one could have foreseen, on the twenty-second of May 1787; and that, after having voted the Slave-trade to be both unjust and impolitic, they formed themselves into a commitee for procuring such information and evidence, and for publishing the same, as might tend to the abolition of it, and for directing the application of such money, as had been already and might hereafter be collected for that purpose. At this meeting it was resolved also, that no less than three members should form a quorum; that Samuel Hoare should be the treasurer; that the treasurer should pay no money but by order of the commitee; and that copies of these resolutions should be printed and circulated, in which it should be inserted that the subscriptions of all such, as were willing to forward the plans of the commitee, should be received by the treasurer or any member of it. On the twenty-fourth of May the commitee met again to promote the object of its institution. The treasurer reported at this meeting, that the subscriptions already received, amounted to one hundred and thirty-six pounds. As I had foreseen, long before this time, that my Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species was too large for general circulation, and yet that a general circulation of knowledge on this subject was absolutely necessary, I determined, directly after the formation of the commitee, to write a short pamphlet consisting only of eight or ten pages for this purpose. I called it A Summary View of the Slave-trade, and of the probable Consequences of its Abolition. It began by exhibiting to the reader the various unjustifiable ways in which persons living on the coast of Africa became slaves. It then explained the treatment which these experienced on their passage, the number dying in the course of it, and the treatment of the survivors in the colonies of those nations to which they were carried. It then announced the speedy publication of a work on the Impolicy of the Trade, the contents of which, as far as I could then see, I gave generally under the following heads:--Part the first, it was said, would show, that Africa was capable of offering to us a trade in its own natural productions as well as in the persons of men; that the trade in the persons of men was profitable but to a few; that its value was diminished from many commercial considerations; that it was also highly destructive to our seamen; and that the branch of it, by which we supplied the island of St. Domingo with slaves, was peculiarly impolitic on that account. Part the second, it was said, would show, that, if the slaves were kindly treated in our colonies, they would increase; that the abolition of the trade would necessarily secure such a treatment to them, and that it would produce many other advantages which would be then detailed. This little piece I presented to the commitee at this their second meeting. It was then duly read and examined; and the result was, that, after some little correction, it was approved, and that two thousand copies of it were ordered to be printed, with lists of the subscribers and of the commitee, and to be sent to various parts of the kingdom. On June the seventh the commitee met again for the dispatch of business, when, among other things, they voted their thanks to Dr. Baker, of Lower Grosvenor Street, who had been one of my first assistants, for his services to the cause. At this commitee John Barton, one of the members of it, stated that he was commissioned by the author of a poem, entitled The Wrongs of Africa, to offer the profits, which might arise from the sale of that work, to the commitee, for the purpose of enabling them to pursue the object of their institution. This circumstance was not only agreeable, inasmuch as it showed us, that there were others who felt with us for the injured Africans, and who were willing to aid us in our designs, but it was rendered still more so, when we were given to understand that the poem was written by Mr. Roscoe, of Liverpool, and the preface to it by the late Dr. Currie, who then lived in the same place. To find friends to our cause rising up from a quarter, where we expected scarcely any thing but opposition, was very consolatory and encouraging. As this poem was well written, but cannot now be had, I shall give the introductory part of it, which is particularly beautiful, to the perusal of the reader. It begins thus,-- "Offspring of Love divine, Humanity! To whom, his eldest born, th' Eternal gave Dominion o'er the heart; and taught to touch Its varied stops in sweetest unison; And strike the string that from a kindred breast Responsive vibrates! from the noisy haunts Of mercantile confusion, where thy voice Is heard not; from the meretricious glare Of crowded theatres, where in thy place Sits Sensibility, with, watry eye, Dropping o'er Fancied woes her useless tear;-- Come thou, and weep with me substantial ills; And execrate the wrongs, that Afric's sons, Torn from their natal shore, and doom'd to bear The yoke of servitude in foreign climes, Sustain. Nor vainly let our sorrows flow, Nor let the strong emotion rise in vain; But may the kind contagion widely spread, Till in its flame the unrelenting heart Of avarice melt in softest sympathy-- And one bright blaze of universal love In grateful incense rises up to Heaven! "Form'd with the same capacity of pain, The same desire of pleasure and of ease, Why feels not man for man! When nature shrinks From the slight puncture of an insect's sting, Faints, if not screen'd from sultry suns, and pines Beneath the hardship of an hour's delay Of needful nutriment;--when Liberty, Is priz'd so dearly, that the slightest breath, That ruffles but her mantle, can awake To arms unwarlike nations, and can rouse Confed'rate states to vindicate her claims:-- How shall the suff'rer man his fellow doom To ills he mourns or spurns at; tear with stripes His quiv'ring flesh; with hunger and with thirst Waste his emaciate frame; in ceaseless toils Exhaust his vital powers; and bind his limbs In galling chains! Shall he, whose fragile form Demands continual blessings to support Its complicated texture, air, and food, Raiment, alternate rest, and kindly skies, And healthful seasons, dare with impious voice To ask those mercies, whilst his selfish aim Arrests the general freedom of their course; And, gratified beyond his utmost wish, Debars another from the bounteous store!" In this manner was the subject of this beautiful poem introduced to the notice of the public. But I have no room for any further extracts, nor time to make any further comment upon it. I can only add, that the commitee were duly sensible as well of its merits, as of the virtuous and generous disposition of the author, and that they requested John Barton to thank him in an appropriate manner for his offer, which he was to say they accepted gratefully. At this sitting, at which ten members were present out of the twelve, a discussion unexpectedly arose on a most important subject. The commitee, finding that their meetings began to be approved by many, and that the cause under their care was likely to spread, and foreseeing also the necessity there would soon be of making themselves known as a public body throughout the kingdom, thought it right that they should assume some title, which should be a permanent one, and which should be expressive of their future views. This gave occasion to them to reconsider the object, for which they had associated, and to fix and define it in such a manner, that there should be no misunderstanding about it in the public mind. In looking into the subject, it appeared to them that there were two evils, quite distinct from each other, which it might become their duty to endeavour to remove. The first was the evil of the Slave-trade, in consequence of which many thousand persons were every year fraudulently and forcibly taken from their country, their relations, and friends, and from all that they esteemed valuable in life. The second was the evil of slavery itself, in consequence of which the same persons were forced into a situation, where they were deprived of the rights of men, where they were obliged to linger out their days subject to excessive labour and cruel punishments, and where their children were to inherit the same hard lot. Now the question was, which of the two evils the commitee should select as that, to which they should direct their attention with a view of the removal of it; or whether, with the same view, it should direct its attention to both of them. It appeared soon to be the sense of the commitee, that to aim at the removal of both would be to aim at too much, and that by doing this we might lose all. The question then was, which of the two they were to take as their object. Now in considering this question it appeared that it did not matter where they began, or which of them they took, as far as the end to be produced was the thing desired. For, first, if the Slave-trade should be really abolished, the bad usage of the slaves in the colonies, that is, the hard part of their slavery, if not the slavery itself, would fall. For, the planters and others being unable to procure more slaves from the coast of Africa, it would follow directly, whenever this great event should take place, that they must treat those better, whom they might then have. They must render marriage honourable among them. They must establish the union of one man with one wife. They must give the pregnant women more indulgencies. They must pay more attention to the rearing of their offspring. They must work and punish the adults with less rigour. Now it was to be apprehended that they could not do these things, without seeing the political advantages which would arise to themselves from so doing; and that, reasoning upon this, they might be induced to go on to give them greater indulgencies, rights, and privileges in time. But how would every such successive improvement of their condition operate, but to bring them nearer to the state of freemen? In the same manner it was contended, that the better treatment of the slaves in the colonies, or that the emancipation of them there, when fit for it, would of itself lay the foundation for the abolition of the Slave-trade. For, if the slaves were kindly treated, that is, if marriage were encouraged among them; if the infants who should be born were brought up with care; if the sick were properly attended to; if the young and the adult were well fed and properly clothed, and not overworked, and not worn down by the weight of severe punishments, they would necessarily increase, and this on an extensive scale. But if the planters were thus to get their labourers from the births on their own estates, then the Slave-trade would in time be no longer necessary to them, and it would die away as an useless and a noxious plant. Thus it was of no consequence, which of the two evils the commitee were to select as the object for their labours; for, as far as the end in view only was concerned, that the same end would be produced in either case. But in looking further into this question, it seemed to make a material difference which of the two they selected, as far as they had in view the due execution of any laws, which might be made respecting them, and their own prospect of success in the undertaking. For, by aiming at the abolition of the Slave-trade, they were laying the axe at the very root. By doing this, and this only, they would not incur the objection, that they were meddling with the property of the planters, and letting loose an irritated race of beings, who, in consequence of all the vices and infirmities, which a state of slavery entails upon those who undergo it, were unfit for their freedom. By asking the government of the country to do this, and this only, they were asking for that, which it had an indisputable right to do; namely, to regulate or abolish any of its branches of commerce; whereas it was doubtful, whether it could interfere with the management of the internal affairs of the colonies, or whether this was not wholly the province of the legislatures established there. By asking the government, again, to do this and this only, they were asking what it could really enforce. It could station its ships of war, and command its custom-houses, so as to carry any act of this kind into effect. But it could not ensure that an act to be observed in the heart of the islands should be enforced[A]. To this it was added, that if the commitee were to fix upon the annihilation of slavery as the object for their labours, the Slave-trade would not fall so speedily as it would by a positive law for the abolition; because, though the increase from the births might soon supply all the estates now in cultivation with labourers, yet new plantations might be opened from time to time in different islands, so that no period could be fixed upon, when it could be said that it would cease. [Footnote A: The late correspondence of the governors of our colonies with Lord Camden in his official situation, but particularly the statements made by Lord Seaforth and General Provost, have shown the wisdom of this remark, and that no dependence was to be had for the better usage of the slaves but upon the total abolition of the trade.] Impressed by these arguments, the commitee were clearly of opinion, that they should define their object to be the abolition of the Slave-trade, and not of the slavery which sprung from it. Hence from this time, and in allusion to the month when this discussion took place, they styled themselves in their different advertisements, and reports, though they were first associated in the month of May, The commitee instituted in June 1787, for effecting the Abolition of the Slave-trade. Thus, at the very outset, they took a ground which was for ever tenable. Thus they were enabled also to answer the objection, which was afterwards so constantly and so industriously circulated against them, that they were going to emancipate the slaves. And I have no doubt that this wise decision contributed greatly to their success; for I am persuaded, that, if they had adopted the other object, they could not for years to come, if ever, have succeeded in their attempt. Before the commitee broke up, I represented to them the necessity there was of obtaining further knowledge on all those individual points, which might be said to belong to the great subject of the abolition of the Slave-trade. In the first place, this knowledge was necessary for me, if I were to complete my work on the Impolicy of this Trade, which work the Summary View, just printed, had announced to the world. It would be necessary also, in case the Slave-trade should become a subject of parliamentary inquiry; for this inquiry could not proceed without evidence. And if any time was peculiarly fit for the procuring of such information or evidence, it was the present. At this time the passions of men had not been heated by any public agitation of the question, nor had interest felt itself biassed to conceal the truth. But as soon as ever it should be publicly understood, that a parliamentary inquiry was certain, (which we ourselves believed would be the case, but which interested men did not then know,) we should find many of the avenues to information closed against us. I proposed therefore that some one of the commitee should undertake a journey to Bristol, Liverpool, and Lancaster, where he should reside for a time to collect further light upon this subject; and that if others should feel their occupations or engagements to be such as would make such a journey unsuitable, I would undertake it myself. I begged therefore the favour of the different members of the commitee, to turn the matter over in their minds by the next meeting, that we might then talk over and decide upon the propriety of the measure. The commitee held its fourth meeting on the twelfth of June. Among the subjects, which were then brought forward, was that of the journey before mentioned. The propriety and indeed even the necessity of it was so apparent, that I was requested by all present to undertake it, and a minute for that purpose was entered upon our records. Of this journey, as gradually unfolding light on the subject, and as peculiarly connected with the promotion of our object, I shall now give an account; after which I shall return to the proceedings of the commitee. CHAPTER XIV. _Author arrives at Bristol--Introduction to Quaker families there--Objects of his inquiry--Ill usage of seamen on board the ship Brothers--Obtains a knowledge of several articles of African produce--Dr. Camplia--Dean Tucker--Mr. Henry Sulgar--Procures an authenticated account of the treacherous massacre at Calebar--Ill usage of the seaman of the ship Alfred--Painful feelings of the author on this occasion._ Having made preparations for my journey, I took my leave of the different individuals of the commitee. I called upon Mr. Wilberforce, also, with the same design. He was then very ill, and in bed. Sir Richard Hill and others were sitting by his bed-side. After conversing as much as he well could in his weak state, he held out his hand to me, and wished me success. When I left him, I felt much dejected. It appeared to me as if it would be in this case, as it is often in that of other earthly things, that we scarcely possess what we repute a treasure, when it is taken from us. I determined to take this journey on horseback, not only on account of the relaxed state in which I found myself, after such close and constant application, but because I wished to have all my time to myself upon the road, in order the better to reflect upon the proper means of promoting this great cause. The first place I resolved to visit was Bristol. Accordingly I directed my course thither. On turning a corner, within about a mile of that city, at about eight in the evening, I came within sight of it. The weather was rather hazy, which occasioned it to look of unusual dimensions. The bells of some of the churches, were then ringing; the sound of them did not strike me, till I had turned the corner before mentioned, when it came upon me at once. It filled me, almost directly, with a melancholy for which I could not account. I began now to tremble, for the first time, at the arduous task I had undertaken, of attempting to subvert one of the branches of the commerce of the great place which was then before me. I began to think of the host of people I should have to encounter in it. I anticipated much persecution in it also; and I questioned whether I should even get out of it alive. But in journeying on, I became more calm and composed. My spirits began to return. In these latter moments I considered my first feelings as useful, inasmuch as they impressed upon me the necessity of extraordinary courage, and activity, and perseverance, and of watchfulness, also, over my own conduct, that I might not throw any stain upon the cause I had undertaken. When, therefore, I entered the city, I entered it with an undaunted spirit, determining that no labour should make me shrink, nor danger, nor even persecution, deter me from my pursuit. My first introduction was by means of a letter to Harry-Gandy, who had then become one of the religious society of the Quakers. This introduction to him was particularly useful to me, for he had been a seafaring man. In his early youth he had been of a roving disposition; and, in order to see the world, had been two voyages in the Slave-trade, so that he had known the nature and practices of it. This enabled him to give me much useful information on the subject; and as he had frequently felt, as he grew up, deep affliction of mind for having been concerned in it, he was impelled to forward my views as much as possible, under an idea that he should be thus making some reparation for the indiscreet and profane occupations of his youth. I was also introduced to the families of James Harford, John Lury, Matthew Wright, Philip Debell Tucket, Thomas Bonville, and John Waring; all of whom were of the same religious society. I gained an introduction, also, soon afterwards, to George Fisher. These were my first and only acquaintance at Bristol for some time. I derived assistance in the promotion of my object from all of them; and it is a matter of pleasing reflection, that the friendships then formed have been kept alive to the present time. The objects I had marked down as those to be attended to, were--to ascertain what were the natural productions of Africa, and, if possible, to obtain specimens of them, with a view of forming a cabinet or collection-- to procure as much information as I could, relative to the manner of obtaining slaves on the continent of Africa, of transporting them to the West Indies, and of treating them there--to prevail upon persons, having a knowledge of any or all of these circumstances, to come forward to be examined as evidences before parliament, if such an examination should take place--to make myself still better acquainted with the loss of seamen in the Slave-trade--also with the loss of those who were employed in the other trades from the same port--to know the nature, and quantity, and value of the imports and exports of goods in the former case:--there were some other objects, which I classed under the head of Miscellaneous. In my first movements about this city, I found that people talked very openly on the subject of the Slave-trade. They seemed to be well acquainted with the various circumstances belonging to it. There were facts, in short, in every body's mouth, concerning it; and every body seemed to execrate it though no one thought of its abolition. In this state of things I perceived course was obvious for I had little else to do, in pursuing two or three of my objects, than to trace the foundation of those reports which were in circulation. On the third of July I heard that the ship Brothers [A], then lying in King-road for Africa, could not get her seamen, and that a party which had been put on board, becoming terrified by the prospect of their situation, had left her on Sunday morning. On inquiring further, I found that those who had navigated her on her last voyage, thirty-two of whom had died, had been so dreadfully used by the captain, that he could not get hands in the present. It was added, that the treatment of seamen was a crying evil in this trade, and that consequently few would enter into it, so that there was at all times a great difficulty in procuring them, though they were ready enough to enter into other trades. [Footnote A: I abstain from mentioning the names of the captain of this or of other vessels, lest the recording of them should give pain to relatives who can have had no share in their guilt.] The relation of these circumstances made me acquainted with two things, of which I had not before heard; namely, the aversion of seamen to engage, and the bad usage of them when engaged, in this cruel trade; into both which I determined immediately to inquire. I conceived that it became me to be very cautious about giving ear too readily to reports; and therefore, as I could easily learn the truth of one of the assertions which had been made to me, I thought it prudent to ascertain this, and to judge, by the discovery I should make concerning it, what degree of credit might be due to the rest. Accordingly, by means of my late friend, Truman Harford, the eldest son of the respectable family of that name, to which I have already mentioned myself to have been introduced, I gained access to the muster-roll of the ship Brothers. On looking over the names of her last crew, I found the melancholy truth confirmed, that thirty-two of them had been placed among the dead. Having ascertained this circumstance, I became eager to inquire into the truth of the others, but more particularly of the treatment of one of the seamen, which, as it was reported to me, exceeded all belief. His name was John Dean; he was a Black man, but free. The report was, that for a trifling circumstance, for which he was in no-wise to blame, the captain had fastened him with his belly to the deck, and that, in this situation, he had poured hot pitch upon his back, and made incisions in it with hot tongs. Before, however, I attempted to learn the truth of this barbarous proceeding, I thought I would look into the ship's muster-roll, to see if I could find the name of such a man. On examination I found it to be the last on the list. John Dean, it appeared, had been one of the original crew, having gone on board, from Bristol, on the twenty-second day of July, 1785. On inquiring where Dean was to be found, my informant told me that he had lately left Bristol for London. I was shown, however, to the house where he had lodged. The name of his landlord was Donovan. On talking with him on the subject, he assured me that the report which I had heard was true; for that while he resided with him he had heard an account of his usage from some of his ship-mates, and that he had often looked at his scarred and mutilated back. On inquiring of Donovan if any other person in Bristol could corroborate this account, he referred me to a reputable tradesman living in the Market-place. Having been introduced to him, he told me that he had long known John Dean to be a sober and industrious man; that he had seen the terrible indentures on his back; and that they were said to have been made by the captain, in the manner related, during his last voyage. While I was investigating this matter farther, I was introduced to Mr. Sydenham Teast, a respectable ship-builder in Bristol, and the owner of vessels trading to Africa in the natural productions of that country. I mentioned to him by accident what I had heard relative to the treatment of John Dean. He said it was true. An attorney[A] in London had then taken up his cause, in consequence of which the captain had been prevented from sailing, till he could find persons who would be answerable for the damages which might be awarded against him in a court of law. Mr. Teast further said, that, not knowing, at that time, the cruelty of the transaction to its full extent, he himself had been one of the securities for the captain at the request of the purser[B] of the ship. Finding, however, afterwards, that it was as the public had stated, he was sorry that he had ever interfered in such a barbarous case. [Footnote A: I afterwards found out this attorney. He described the transaction to me, as, by report, it had taken place, and informed me that he had made the captain of the Brothers pay for his barbarity.] [Footnote B: The purser of a ship, at Bristol, is the person who manages the out-fit, as well as the trade, and who is often in part owner of her.] This transaction, which I now believed to be true, had the effect of preparing me for crediting whatever I might hear concerning the barbarities said to be practised in this trade. It kindled also a fire of indignation within me, and produced in me both anxiety and spirit to proceed. But that which excited these feelings the most, was the consideration, that the purser of this ship, knowing, as he did, of this act of cruelty, should have sent out this monster again. This, I own, made me think that there was a system of bad usage to be deliberately practised upon the seamen in this employment, for some purpose or other which I could then neither comprehend nor ascertain. But while I was in pursuit of this one object, I was not unmindful of the others which I had marked out for myself. I had already procured an interview, as I have mentioned, with Mr. Sydenham Teast. I had done this with a view of learning from him what were the different productions of the continent of Africa, as far as he had been able to ascertain from the imports by his own vessels. He was very open and communicative. He had imported ivory, red-wood, cam-wood, and gum copal. He purposed to import palm oil. He observed that bees-wax might be collected also upon the coast. Of his gum copal he gave me a specimen. He furnished me also with two different specimens of unknown woods, which had the appearance of being useful. One of his captains, he informed me, had been told by the natives, that cotton, pink in the pod, grew in their country. He was of opinion, that many valuable productions might be found upon this continent. Mr. Biggs, to whom I gained an introduction also, was in a similar trade with Mr. Teast; that is, he had one or two vessels, which skimmed, as it were, the coast and rivers, for what they could get of the produce of Africa, without having any concern in the trade for slaves. Mr. Biggs gave me a specimen of gum Senegal, of yellow wood, and of Malaguetta and Cayenne pepper. He gave me also small pieces of cloth made and dyed by the natives, the colours of which they could only have obtained from materials in their own country. Mr. Biggs seemed to be assured, that if proper persons were sent to Africa on discovery, they would find a rich mine of wealth in the natural productions of it, and in none more advantageous to this as a manufacturing nation, than in the many beautiful dyes which it might furnish. From Thomas Bonville I collected two specimens of cloth made by the natives, and from others a beautiful piece of tulipwood, a small piece of wood similar to mahogany, and a sample of fine rice, all of which had been brought from the same continent. Among the persons whom I found out at Bristol, and from whom I derived assistance, were Dr. Camplin, and the celebrated Dean Tucker. The former was my warm defender; for the West-Indian and African merchants, as soon as they discovered my errand, began to calumniate me. The Dean though in a very advanced age, felt himself much interested in my pursuit. He had long moved in the political world himself, and was desirous of hearing of what was going forward that was new in it, but particularly about so desirable a measure as that of the abolition of the Slave-trade[A]. He introduced me to the Custom-house at Bristol. He used to call upon me at the Merchants' Hall, while I was transcribing the muster-rolls of the seamen there. In short, he seemed to be interested in all my movements. He became also a warm supporter both of me and of my cause. [Footnote A: Dean Tucker, in his Reflections on the Disputes between Great Britain and Ireland, published in 1785, had passed a severe censure on the British planters for the inhuman treatment of their slaves.] Among others, who were useful to me in my pursuit, was Mr. Henry Sulgar, an amiable minister of the gospel belonging to the religious society of the Moravians in the same city. From him I first procured authentic documents relative to the treacherous massacre at Calabàr. This cruel transaction had been frequently mentioned to me; but as it had taken place twenty years before, I could not find one person who had been engaged in it, nor could I come, in a satisfactory manner, at the various particulars belonging to it. My friend, however, put me in possession of copies of the real depositions which had been taken in the case of the King against Lippincott and others, relative to this event, namely, of captain Floyd, of the city of Bristol, who had been a witness to the scene, and of Ephraim Robin John, and of Ancona Robin Robin John, two African chiefs, who had been sufferers by it. These depositions had been taken before Jacob Kirby, and Thomas Symons, esquires, commissioners at Bristol for taking affidavits in the court of King's Bench. The tragedy, of which they gave a circumstantial account, I shall present to the reader in as concise a manner as I can. In the year 1767, the ships Indian Queen, Duke of York, Nancy, and Concord, of Bristol, the Edgar, of Liverpool, and the Canterbury, of London, lay in old Calabàr river. It happened at this time, that a quarrel subsisted between the principal inhabitants of Old Town and those of New Town, Old Calabàr, which had originated in a jealousy respecting slaves. The captains of the vessels now mentioned joined in sending several letters to the inhabitants of Old Town, but particularly to Ephraim Robin John, who was at that time a grandee or principal inhabitant of the place. The tenor of these letters was, that they were sorry that any jealousy or quarrel should subsist between the two parties; that if the inhabitants of Old Town would come on board, they would afford them security and protection; adding at the same time, that their intention in inviting them was, that they might become mediators, and, thus heal their disputes. The inhabitants of Old Town, happy to find that their differences were likely to be accommodated, joyfully accepted the invitation. The three brothers of the grandee just mentioned, the eldest of whom was Amboe Robin John, first entered their canoe, attended by twenty-seven others, and, being followed by nine canoes, directed their course to the Indian Queen. They were dispatched from thence the next morning to the Edgar, and afterwards to the Duke of York, on board of which they went, leaving their canoe and attendants by the side of the same vessel. In the mean time the people on board the other canoes were either distributed on board, or lying close to, the other ships. This being the situation of the three brothers, and of the principal inhabitants of the place, the treachery now began to appear. The crew of the Duke of York, aided by the captain and mates, and armed with pistols and cutlasses, rushed into the cabin, with an intent to seize the persons of their three innocent and unsuspicious guests. The unhappy men, alarmed at this violation of the rights of hospitality and struck with astonishment at the behaviour of their supposed friends, attempted to escape through the cabin windows, but being wounded were obliged to desist, and to submit to be put in irons. In the same moment, in which this atrocious attempt had been made, an order had been given to fire upon the canoe, which was then lying by the side of the Duke of York. The canoe soon filled and sunk, and the wretched attendants were either seized, killed, or drowned. Most of the other ships followed the example. Great numbers were additionally killed and drowned on the occasion, and others were swimming to the shore. At this juncture the inhabitants of New Town, who had concealed themselves in the bushes by the water-side, and between whom and the commanders of the vessels the plan had been previously concerted, came out from their hiding-places, and, embarking in their canoes, made for such, as were swimming from the fire of the ships. The ships' boats also were manned, and joined in the pursuit. They butchered the greater part of those whom they caught. Many dead bodies were soon seen upon the sands, and others were floating upon the water; and including those who were seized and carried off, and those who were drowned and killed, either by the firing of the ships or by the people of New Town, three hundred were lost to the inhabitants of Old Town on that day. The carnage, which I have been now describing, was scarcely over, when a canoe, full of the principal people of New Town, who had been the promoters of the scheme, dropped alongside of the Duke of York. They demanded the person of Amboe Robin John, the brother of the grandee of Old Town, and the eldest of the three on board. The unfortunate man put the palms of his hands together, and beseeched the commander of the vessel, that he would not violate the rights of hospitality by giving up an unoffending stranger to his enemies. But no entreaties could avail. The commander received from the New Town people a slave, of the name of Econg, in his stead, and then forced him into the canoe, where his head was immediately struck off in the sight of the crew, and of his afflicted and disconsolate brothers. As for them, they escaped his fate; but they were carried off with their attendants to the West Indies, and sold for slaves. The knowledge of this tragical event now fully confirmed me in the sentiment, that the hearts of those, who were concerned in this traffic, became unusually hardened, and that I might readily believe any atrocities, however great, which might be related of them. It made also my blood boil as it were within me. It gave a new spring to my exertions. And I rejoiced, sorrowful as I otherwise was, that I had visited Bristol, if it had been only to gain an accurate statement of this one fact. In pursuing my objects, I found that reports were current, that the crew of the Alfred slave-vessel, which had just returned, had been barbarously used, but particularly a young man of the name of Thomas, who had served as the surgeon's mate on board her. The report was, that he had been repeatedly knocked down by the captain; that he had become in consequence of his ill usage so weary of his life, that he had three times jumped over board to destroy it; that on being taken up the last time he had been chained to the deck of the ship, in which situation he had remained night and day for some time; that in consequence of this his health had been greatly impaired; and that it was supposed he could not long survive this treatment. It was with great difficulty, notwithstanding all my inquiries, that I could trace this person. I discovered him, however, at last. He was confined to his bed when I saw him, and appeared to me to be delirious. I could collect nothing from himself relative to the particulars of his treatment. In his intervals of sense, he exclaimed against the cruelty both of the captain and of the chief mate, and pointing to his legs, thighs and body, which were all wrapped up in flannel, he endeavoured to convince me how much he had suffered there. At one time he said he forgave them. At another he asked, if I came to befriend him. At another he looked wildly, and asked if I meant to take the captain's part and to kill him. I was greatly affected by the situation of this poor man, whose image haunted me both night and day, and I was meditating how most effectually to assist him, when I heard that he was dead. I was very desirous of tracing something further on this subject, when Walter Chandler, of the society of the Quakers, who had been daily looking out for intelligence for me, brought a young man to me of the name of Dixon. He had been one of the crew of the same ship. He told me the particulars of the treatment of Thomas, with very little variation from those contained in the public report. After cross-examining him in the best manner I was able, I could find no inconsistency in his account. I asked Dixon, how the captain came to treat the surgeon's mate in particular so ill. He said he had treated them all much alike. A person of the name of Bulpin, he believed, was the only one who had escaped bad usage in the ship. With respect to himself, he had been cruelly used so early as in the outward bound passage, which had occasioned him to jump overboard. When taken up he was put into irons, and kept in these for a considerable time. He was afterwards ill used at different times, and even so late as within three or four days of his return to port. For just before the Alfred made the island of Lundy, he was struck by the captain, who cut his under lip into two. He said that it had bled so much, that the captain expressed himself as if much alarmed; and having the expectation of arriving soon at Bristol, he had promised to make him amends, if he would hold his peace. This he said he had hitherto done, but he had received no recompense. In confirmation of his own usage, he desired me to examine his lip, which I had no occasion to do, having already perceived it, for the wound was apparently almost fresh. I asked Dixon, if there was any person in Bristol, besides himself, who could confirm to me this his own treatment, as well as that of the other unfortunate man who was now dead. He referred me to a seaman of the name of Matthew Pyke. This person, when brought to me, not only related readily the particulars of the usage in both cases, as I have now stated them, but that which he received himself. He said that his own arm had been broken by the chief mate in Black River, Jamaica, and that he had also by the captain's orders, though contrary to the practice in merchant vessels, been severely flogged. His arm appeared to be then in pain. And I had a proof of the punishment by an inspection of his back. I asked Matthew Pyke, if the crew in general had been treated in a cruel manner. He replied, they had, except James Bulpin. I then asked where James Bulpin was to be found. He told me where he had lodged, but feared he had gone home to his friends in Somersetshire, I think, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bridgewater. I thought it prudent to institute an inquiry into the characters of Thomas, Dixon, and Matthew Pyke, before I went further. The two former I found were strangers in Bristol, and I could collect nothing about them. The latter was a native of the place, had served his time as a seaman from the port, and was reputed of fair character. My next business was to see James Bulpin. I found him just setting off for the country. He stopped, however, to converse with me. He was a young man of very respectable appearance and of mild manners. His appearance, indeed, gave me reason to hope that I might depend upon his statements; but I was most of all influenced by the consideration, that, never having been ill-used himself, he could have no inducement to go beyond the bounds of truth on this occasion. He gave me a melancholy confirmation of all the three cases. He told me also that one Joseph Cunningham had been a severe sufferer, and that there was reason to fear that Charles Horseler, another of the crew, had been so severely beaten over the breast with a knotted end of a rope (which end was of the size of a large ball, and had been made on purpose) that he died of it. To this he added, that it was now a notorious fact, that the captain of the Alfred, when mate of a slave-ship, had been tried at Barbadoes for the murder of one of the crew, with whom he had sailed, but that he escaped by bribing the principal witness to disappear[A]. [Footnote A: Mr. Sampson, who was surgeon's mate of the ship, in which the captain had thus served as a mate, confirmed to me afterwards this assertion, having often heard him boast in the cabin, "how he had tricked the law on that occasion."] The reader will see, the further I went into the history of this voyage, the more dismal it became. One miserable account, when examined, only brought up another. I saw no end to inquiry. The great question was, what was I to do? I thought the best thing would be to get the captain apprehended, and make him stand his trial either for the murder of Thomas or of Charles Horseler. I communicated with the late Mr. Burges, an eminent attorney and the deputy town-clerk, on this occasion. He had shown an attachment to me on account of the cause I had undertaken, and had given me privately assistance in it. I say privately; because, knowing the sentiments of many of the corporate body at Bristol, under whom he acted, he was fearful of coming forward in an open manner. His advice to me was, to take notes of the case for my own private conviction, but to take no public cognizance of it. He said that seamen, as soon as their wages were expended, must be off to sea again. They could not generally, as landsmen do, maintain themselves on shore. Hence I should be obliged to keep the whole crew at my own expense till the day of trial, which might not be for months to come. He doubted not that, in the interim, the merchants and others would inveigle many of them away by making them boatswains and other inferior officers in some of their ships; so that, when the day of trial should come, I should find my witnesses dispersed and gone. He observed moreover, that, if any of the officers of the ship had any notion of going out again under the same owners[A], I should have all these against me. To which he added that, if I were to make a point of taking up the cause of those whom I found complaining of hard usage in this trade, I must take up that of nearly all who sailed in it; for that he only knew of one captain from the port in the Slave-trade, who did not deserve long ago to be hanged. Hence I should get into a labyrinth of expense, and difficulty, and uneasiness of mind, from whence I should not easily find a clew to guide me. [Footnote A: The seamen of the Alfred informed the purser of their ill usage. Matthew Pyke not only showed him his arm and his back, but acquainted him with the murder of Charles Horseler, stating that he had the instrument of his death in his possession. The purser seemed more alive to this than to any other circumstance, and wished to get it from him. Pyke, however, had given it to me. Now what will the reader think, when he is informed that the purser, after all this knowledge of the captain's cruelty, sent him out again, and that he was the same person, who was purser of the Brothers, and who had also sent out the captain of that ship a second time, as has been related, notwithstanding his barbarities in former voyages!!] This advice, though it was judicious, and founded on a knowledge of Law-proceedings, I found it very difficult to adopt. My own disposition was naturally such, that whatever I engaged in I followed with more than ordinary warmth. I could not be supposed therefore, affected and interested as I then was, to be cool and tranquil on this occasion. And yet what would my worthy friend have said, if in this first instance I had opposed him? I had a very severe struggle in my own feelings on this account. At length, though reluctantly, I obeyed. But as the passions, which agitate the human mind, when it is greatly inflamed, must have a vent somewhere, or must work off as it were, or in working together must produce some new passion or effect; so I found the rage, which had been kindling within me, subsiding into the most determined resolutions of future increased activity and perseverance. I began now to think that the day was not long enough for me to labour in. I regretted often the approach of night, which suspended my work, and I often welcomed that of the morning, which restored me to it. When I felt myself weary, I became refreshed by the thought of what I was doing; when disconsolate, I was comforted by it. I lived in hope that every day's labour would furnish me with that knowledge, which would bring this evil nearer to its end; and I worked on, under these feelings, regarding neither trouble nor danger in the pursuit. CHAPTER XV. _Author confers with the inhabitants of Bridgewater relative to a petition to parliament in behalf of the abolition--returns to Bristol--discovers a scandalous mode of procuring seamen for the Slave-trade--and of paying them--makes a comparative view of their loss in this and in other trades--procures imports and exports--examines the construction and admeasurement of Slave-ships--of the Fly and Neptune--Difficulty of procuring evidence--Case of Gardiner of the Pilgrim--of Arnold of the Ruby--some particulars of the latter in his former voyages_. Having heard by accident, that the inhabitants of the town of Bridgewater had sent a petition to the House of Commons, in the year 1785, for the abolition of the Slave-trade, as has been related in a former part of the work, I determined, while my feelings were warm, to go there, and to try to find out those who had been concerned in it, and to confer with them as the tried friends of the cause. The time seemed to me to be approaching, when the public voice should be raised against this enormous evil. I was sure that it was only necessary for the inhabitants of this favoured island to know it, to feel a just indignation against it. Accordingly I set off. My friend George Fisher, who was before mentioned to have been of the religions society of the Quakers, gave me an introduction to the respectable family of Ball, which was of the same religious persuasion. I called upon Mr. Sealey, Anstice, Crandon, Chubb, and others. I laid open to those, whom I saw, the discoveries I had made relative to the loss and ill treatment of seamen; at which they seemed to be much moved; and it was agreed, that, if it should be thought a proper measure, (of which I would inform them when I had consulted the commitee,) a second petition should be sent to Parliament from the inhabitants, praying for the abolition of the Slave-trade. With this view I left them several of my Summary Views, before mentioned, to distribute, that the inhabitants might know more particularly the nature of the evil, against which they were going to complain. On my return to Bristol, I determined to inquire into the truth of the reports that seamen had an aversion to enter, and that they were inveigled, if not often forced, into this hateful employment. For this purpose I was introduced to a landlord of the name of Thompson, who kept a public-house called the Seven Stars. He was a very intelligent man, was accustomed to receive sailors, when discharged at the end of their voyages, and to board them till their vessels went out again, or to find them births in others. He avoided however all connection with the Slave-trade, declaring that the credit of his house would be ruined, if he were known to send those, who put themselves under his care, into it. From him I collected the truth of all that had been stated to me on this subject. But I told him I should not be satisfied until I had beheld those scenes myself, which he had described to me; and I entreated him to take me into them, saying that I would reward him for all his time and trouble, and that I would never forget him while I lived. To this he consented; and as three or four slave-vessels at this time were preparing for their voyages, it was time that we should begin our rounds. At about twelve at night we generally set out, and were employed till two and sometimes three in the morning. He led me from one of those public-houses to another, which the mates of the slave-vessels used to frequent to pick up their hands. These houses were in Marsh-street, and most of them were then kept by Irishmen. The scenes witnessed in these houses were truly distressing to me; and yet, if I wished to know practically what I had purposed, I could not avoid them. Music, dancing, rioting, drunkenness, and profane swearing, were kept up from night to night. The young mariner, if a stranger to the port, and unacquainted with the nature of the Slave-trade, was sure to be picked up. The novelty of the voyages, the superiority of the wages in this over any other trades, and the privileges of various kinds, were set before him. Gulled in this manner he was frequently enticed to the boat, which was waiting to carry him away. If these prospects did not attract him, he was plied with liquor till he became intoxicated, when a bargain was made over him between the landlord and the mate. After this his senses were kept in such a constant state of stupefaction by the liquor, that in time the former might do with him what he pleased. Seamen also were boarded in these houses, who, when the slave-ships were going out, but at no other time, were encouraged to spend more than they had money to pay for; and to these, when they had thus exceeded, but one alternative was given, namely, a slave-vessel, or a gaol. These distressing scenes I found myself obliged frequently to witness, for I was no less than nineteen times occupied in making these hateful rounds. And I can say from my own experience, and all the information I could collect from Thompson and others, that no such practices were in use to obtain seamen for other trades. The treatment of the seamen employed in the Slave-trade had so deeply interested me, and now the manner of procuring them, that I was determined to make myself acquainted with their whole history; for I found by report, that they were not only personally ill-treated, as I have already painfully described, but that they were robbed by artifice of those wages, which had been held up to them as so superior in this service. All persons were obliged to sign articles, that, in case they should die or be discharged during the voyage, the wages then due to them should be paid in the currency where the vessel carried her slaves, and that half of the wages due to them on their arrival there should be paid in the same manner, and that they were never permitted to read over the articles they had signed. By means of this iniquitous practice the wages in the Slave-trade, though nominally higher in order to induce seamen to engage in it, were actually lower than in other trades. All these usages I ascertained in such a manner, that no person could doubt the truth of them. I actually obtained possession of articles of agreement belonging to these vessels, which had been signed and executed in former voyages. I made the merchants themselves, by sending those seamen, who had claims upon them, to ask for their accounts current with their respective ships, furnish me with such documents as would have been evidence against them in any court of law. On whatever branch of the system I turned my eyes, I found it equally barbarous. The trade was, in short, one mass of iniquity from the beginning to the end. I employed myself occasionally in the Merchants-hall, in making copies of the muster-rolls of ships sailing to different parts of the world, that I might make a comparative view of the loss of seamen in the Slave-trade, with that of those in the other trades from the same port. The result of this employment showed me the importance of it: for, when I considered how partial the inhabitants of this country were to their fellow-citizens, the seamen belonging to it, and in what estimation the members of the legislature held them, by enforcing the Navigation-Act, which they considered to be the bulwark of the nation, and by giving bounties to certain trades, that these might become so many nurseries for the marine, I thought it of great importance to be able to prove, as I was then capable of doing, that more persons would be found dead in three slave-vessels from Bristol, in a given time, than in all the other vessels put together, numerous as they were, belonging to the same port. I procured also an account of the exports and imports for the year 1786, by means of which I was enabled to judge of the comparative value of this and the other trades. In pursuing another object, which was that of going on board the slave-ships, and learning their construction and dimensions, I was greatly struck, and indeed affected, by the appearance of two little sloops, which were fitting out for Africa, the one of only twenty-five tons, which was said to be destined to carry seventy; and the other of only eleven, which was said to be destined to carry thirty slaves. I was told also that which was more affecting, namely, that these were not to act as tenders on the coast, by going up and down the rivers, and receiving three or four slaves at a time, and then carrying them to a large ship, which was to take them to the West Indies, but that it was actually intended, that they should transport their own slaves themselves; that one if not both of them were, on their arrival in the West Indies, to be sold as pleasure-vessels, and that the seamen belonging to them were to be permitted to come home by what is usually called the run. This account of the destination of these little vessels, though it was distressing at first, appeared to me afterwards, on cool reasoning, to be incredible. I thought that my informants wished to impose upon me, in order that I might make statements which would carry their own refutation with them, and that thus I might injure the great cause which I had undertaken. And I was much inclined to be of this opinion, when I looked again at the least of the two; for any person, who was tall, standing upon dry ground by the side of her, might have overlooked every thing upon her deck. I knew also that she had been built as a pleasure-boat for the accommodation of only six persons upon the Severn. I determined, therefore, to suspend my belief till I could take the admeasurement of each vessel. This I did; but lest, in the agitation of my mind on this occasion, I should have made any mistake, I desired my friend George Fisher to apply to the builder for his admeasurement also. With this he kindly complied. When he obtained it he brought it to me. This account, which nearly corresponded with my own, was as follows:--In the vessel of twenty-five tons, the length of the upper part of the hold, or roof, of the room, where the seventy slaves were to be stowed, was but little better than ten yards, or thirty-one feet. The greatest breadth of the bottom, or floor, was ten feet four inches, and the least five. Hence, a grown person must sit down all the voyage, and contract his limbs within the narrow limits of three square feet. In the vessel of eleven tons, the length of the room for the thirty slaves was twenty-two feet. The greatest breadth of the floor was eight, and the least four. The whole height from the keel to the beam was but five feet eight inches, three feet of which were occupied by ballast, cargo, and provisions, so that two feet eight inches remained only as the height between the decks. Hence, each slave would have only four square feet to sit in, and, when in this posture, his head, if he were a full-grown person, would touch the ceiling, or upper deck. Having now received this admeasurement from the builder, which was rather more favourable than my own, I looked upon the destination of these little vessels as yet more incredible than before. Still the different persons, whom I occasionally saw on board them, persisted in it that they were going to Africa for slaves, and also for the numbers mentioned, which they were afterwards to carry to the West Indies themselves. I desired, however, my friends, George Fisher, Truman Harford, Harry Gandy, Walter Chandler, and others, each to make a separate inquiry for me on this subject; and they all agreed that, improbable as the account both of their destination, and of the number they were to take, might appear, they had found it to be too true. I had soon afterwards the sorrow to learn from official documents from the Custom-house, that these little vessels actually cleared out for Africa, and that now nothing could be related so barbarous of this traffic, which might not instantly be believed. In pursuing my different objects there was one, which, to my great vexation, I found it extremely difficult to attain. This was the procuring of any assurance from those, who had been personally acquainted with the horrors of this trade, that they would appear, if called upon, as evidence against it. My friend Harry Gandy, to whom I had been first introduced, had been two voyages, as I before mentioned; and he was willing, though at an advanced age, to go to London, to state publicly all he knew concerning them. But with respect to the many others in Bristol, who had been to the coast of Africa, I had not yet found one, who would come forward for this purpose. There were several old Slave-Captains living there, who had a great knowledge of the subject. I thought it not unreasonable, that I might gain one or two good evidences out of these, as they had probably long ago left the concern, and were not now interested in the continuance of it. But all my endeavours were fruitless. I sent messages to them by different persons. I met them in all ways. I stated to them, that if there was nothing objectionable in the trade, seeing it laboured under such a stigma, they had an opportunity of coming forward and of wiping away the stain. If, on the other hand, it was as bad as represented, then they had it in their power, by detailing the crimes which attached to it, of making some reparation, or atonement, for the part they had taken in it. But no representations would do. All intercourse was positively forbidden between us; and whenever they met me in the street, they shunned me as if I had been a mad dog. I could not for some time account for the strange disposition which they thus manifested towards me; but my friends helped me to unravel it, for I was assured that one or two of them, though they went no longer to Africa as captains, were in part owners of vessels trading there; and, with respect to all of them, it might be generally said, that they had been guilty of such enormities, that they would be afraid of coming forward in the way I proposed, lest any thing should come out by which they might criminate themselves. I was obliged then to give up all hope of getting any evidence from this quarter, and I saw but little prospect of getting it from those, who were then actually deriving their livelihood from the trade. And yet I was determined to persevere. For I thought that some might be found in it, who were not yet so hardened as to be incapable of being awakened on this subject. I thought that others might be found in it, who wished to leave it upon principle, and that these would unbosom themselves to me. And I thought it not improbable that I might fall in with others, who had come unexpectedly into a state of independence, and that these might be induced, as their livelihood would be no longer affected by giving me information, to speak the truth. I persevered for weeks together under this hope, but could find no one of all those, who had been applied to, who would have any thing to say to me. At length Walter Chandler had prevailed upon a young gentleman, of the name of Gardiner, who was going out as surgeon of the Pilgrim, to meet me. The condition was, that we were to meet at the house of the former, but that we were to enter in and go out at different times, that is, we were not to be seen together. Gardiner, on being introduced to me, said at once, that he had often wished to see me on the subject of my errand, but that the owner of the Pilgrim had pointed me out to him as a person, whom he would wish him to avoid. He then laid open to me the different methods of obtaining slaves in Africa, as he had learned from those on board his own vessel in his first, or former, voyage. He unfolded also the manner of their treatment in the Middle Passage, with the various distressing scenes which had occurred in it. He stated the barbarous usage of the seamen as he had witnessed it, and concluded by saying, that there never was a subject, which demanded so loudly the interference of the legislature as that of the Slave-trade. When he had finished his narrative, and answered the different questions which I had proposed to him concerning it, I asked him in as delicate a manner as I could, How it happened, that, seeing the trade in this horrible light, he had consented to follow it again? He told me frankly, that he had received a regular medical education, but that his relations, being poor, had not been able to set him up in his profession. He had saved a little money in his last voyage. In that, which he was now to perform, he hoped to save a little more. With the profits of both voyages together, he expected he should be able to furnish a shop in the line of his profession, when he would wipe his hands of this detestable trade. I then asked him, Whether upon the whole he thought he had judged prudently, or whether the prospect of thus enabling himself to become independent, would counterbalance the uneasiness which might arise in future? He replied, that he had not so much to fear upon this account. The trade, while it continued, must have surgeons. But it made a great difference both to the crew and to the slaves, whether these discharged their duty towards them in a feeling manner, or not. With respect to himself, he was sure that he should pay every attention to the wants of each. This thought made his continuance in the trade for one voyage longer more reconcileable. But he added, as if not quite satisfied, "Cruel necessity!" and he fetched a deep sigh. We took our leave, and departed, the one a few minutes after the other. The conversation of this young man was very interesting. I was much impressed both by the nature and the manner of it. I wished to secure him, if possible, as an evidence for Parliament, and thus save him from his approaching voyage: but I knew not what to do. At first, I thought it would be easy to raise a subscription to set him up. But then, I was aware that this might be considered as bribery, and make his testimony worth nothing. I then thought that the commitee might detain him as an evidence, and pay him, in a reasonable manner, for his sustenance, till his testimony should be called for. But I did not know how long it would be before his examination might take place. It might be a year or two. I foresaw other difficulties also; and I was obliged to relinquish what otherwise I should have deemed a prize. On reviewing the conversation which had passed between us after my return home, I thought, considering the friendly disposition of Gardiner towards us, I had not done all I could for the cause; and, communicating my feelings to Walter Chandler, he procured me another interview. At this, I asked him, if he would become an evidence, if he lived to return. He replied, very heartily, that he would. I then asked him, if he would keep a journal of facts during his voyage, as it would enable him to speak more correctly, in case he should be called upon for his testimony. He assured me, he would, and that he would make up a little book for that purpose. I asked him, lastly, When he meant to sail. He said, As soon as the ship could get all her hands. It was their intention to sail to-morrow, but that seven men, whom the mates had brought drunk out of Marsh-street the evening before, were so terrified when they found they were going to Africa, that they had seized the boat that morning, and had put themselves on shore. I took my leave of him, entreating him to follow his resolutions of kindness both to the sailors and the slaves, and wished him a speedy and a safe return. On going one day by the Exchange after this interview with Gardiner, I overheard a young gentleman say to another, "that it happened on the Coast last year, and that he saw it." I wished to know who he was, and to get at him if I could. I watched him at a distance for more than half an hour, when I saw him leave his companion. I followed him till he entered a house. I then considered whether it would be proper, and in what manner, to address him when he should come out of it. But I waited three hours, and I never saw him. I then concluded that he either lodged where I saw him enter, or that he had gone to dine with some friend. I therefore took notice of the house, and, showing it afterwards to several of my friends, desired them to make him out for me. In a day or two I had an interview with him. His name was James Arnold. He had been two voyages to the coast of Africa for slaves; one as surgeon's mate in the Alexander, in the year 1785, and the other as surgeon in the Little Pearl, in the year 1786, from which he had not then very long returned. I asked him if he was willing to give me any account of these voyages, for that I was making an inquiry into the nature of the Slave-trade. He replied, he knew that I was. He had been cautioned about falling-in with me. He had, however, taken no pains to avoid me. It was a bad trade, and ought to be exposed. I went over the same ground as I had gone with Gardiner relative to the first of these voyages, or that in the Alexander. It is not necessary to detail the particulars. It is impossible, however, not to mention, that the treatment of the seamen on board this vessel was worse than I had ever before heard of. No less than eleven of them, unable to bear their lives, had deserted at Bonny on the coast of Africa,--which is a most unusual thing,--choosing all that could be endured, though in a most inhospitable climate, and in the power of the natives, rather than to continue in their own ship. Nine others also, in addition to the loss of these, had died in the same voyage. As to the rest, he believed, without any exception, that they had been badly used. In examining him with respect to his second voyage, or that in the Little Pearl, two circumstances came out with respect to the slaves, which I shall relate in few words. The chief mate used to beat the men-slaves on very trifling occasions. About eleven one evening, the ship then lying off the coast, he heard a noise in their room. He jumped down among them with a lanthorn in his hand. Two of those, who had been ill-used by him, forced themselves out of their irons and, seizing him, struck him with the bolt of them, and it was with some difficulty that he was extricated from them by the crew. The men-slaves, unable now to punish him, and finding they had created an alarm, began to proceed to extremities. They endeavoured to force themselves up the gratings, and to pull down a partition which had been made for a sick-birth; when they were fired upon and repressed. The next morning they were brought up one by one; when it appeared that a boy had been killed, who was afterwards thrown into the sea. The two men, however, who had forced themselves out of irons, did not come up with the rest, but found their way into the hold, and armed themselves with knives from a cask, which had been opened for trade. One of them being called to in the African tongue by a Black trader, who was then on board, came up, but with a knife in each hand; when one of the crew, supposing him yet hostile, shot him in the right side and killed him on the spot. The other remained in the hold for twelve hours. Scalding water mixed with fat was poured down upon him, to make him come up. Though his flesh was painfully blistered by these means, he kept below. A promise was then made to him in the African tongue by the same trader, that no injury should be done him, if he would come among them. To this at length he consented. But on observing, when he was about half way up, that a sailor was armed between decks, he flew to him, and clasped him, and threw him down. The sailor fired his pistol in the scuffle, but without effect. He contrived however to fracture his skull with the butt end of it, so that the slave died on the third day. The second circumstance took place after the arrival of the same vessel at St. Vincent's. There was a boy-slave on board, who was very ill and emaciated. The mate, who, by his cruelty, had been the author of the former mischief, did not choose to expose him to sale with the rest, lest the small sum he would fetch in that situation should lower the average price, and thus bring down[A] the value of the privileges of the officers of the ship. This boy was kept on board, and no provisions allowed him. The mate had suggested the propriety of throwing him overboard, but no one would do it. On the ninth day he expired, having never been allowed any sustenance during that time. [Footnote A: Officers are said to be allowed the privilege of one or more slaves, according to their rank. When the cargo is sold, the sum total fetched is put down, and this being divided by the number of slaves sold, gives the average price of each. Such officers, then, receive this average price for one or more slaves, according to their privileges, but never the slaves themselves.] I asked Mr. Arnold if he was willing to give evidence of these facts in both cases. He said he had only one objection, which was, that in two or three days he was to go in the Ruby, on his third voyage: but on leaving me, he said, that he would take an affidavit before the mayor of the truth of any of those things which he had related to me, if that would do; but, from motives of safety, he should not choose to do this till within a few hours before he sailed. In two or three days after this, he sent for me. He said the Ruby would leave King-road the next day, and that he was ready to do as he had promised. Depositions were accordingly made out from his own words. I went with him to the residence of George Daubeny, esquire, who was then chief magistrate of the city, and they were sworn to in his presence, and witnessed as the law requires. On taking my leave of him, I asked him how he could go a third time in such a barbarous employ. He said he had been distressed. In his voyage in the Alexander he had made nothing; for he had been so ill-used, that he had solicited his discharge in Grenada, where, being paid in currency, he had but little to receive. When he arrived in Bristol from that island, he was quite pennyless; and finding the Little Pearl going out, he was glad to get on board her as her surgeon, which he then did entirely for the sake of bread. He said, moreover, that she was but a small vessel, and that his savings had been but small in her. This occasioned him to apply for the Ruby, his present ship; but if he survived this voyage he would never go another. I then put the same question to him as to Gardiner, and he promised to keep a journal of facts, and to give his evidence, if called upon, on his return. The reader will see, from this account, the difficulty I had in procuring evidence from this port. The owners of vessels employed in the trade there, forbade all intercourse with me. The old captains, who had made their fortunes in it, would not see me. The young, who were making them, could not be supposed to espouse my cause, to the detriment of their own interest. Of those whose necessities made them go into it for a livelihood, I could not get one to come forward, without doing so much for him as would have amounted to bribery. Thus, when I got one of these into my possession, I was obliged to let him go again. I was, however, greatly consoled by the consideration, that I had procured two sentinels to be stationed in the enemy's camp, who keeping a journal of different facts, would bring me some important intelligence at a future period. CHAPTER XVI. _Author goes to Monmouth--confers relative to a petition from that place--returns to Bristol--is introduced to Alexander Falconbridge--takes one of the mates of the Africa out of that ship--visits disabled seamen from the ship Thomas--puts a chief mate into prison for the murder of William Lines--Ill-usage of seamen in various other slave-vessels--secures Crutwell's Bath paper in favour of the abolition--lays the foundation of a commitee at Bristol--and of a petition from thence also--takes his leave of that city._ By this time I began to feel the effect of my labours upon my constitution. It had been my practice to go home in the evening to my lodgings, about twelve o'clock, and then to put down the occurrences of the day. This usually kept me up till one, and sometimes till nearly two in the morning. When I went my rounds in Marsh-street, I seldom got home till two, and into bed till three. My clothes, also, were frequently wet through with the rains. The cruel accounts I was daily in the habit of hearing, both with respect to the slaves, and to the seamen employed in this wicked trade, from which, indeed, my mind had no respite, often broke my sleep in the night, and occasioned me to awake in an agitated state. All these circumstances concurred in affecting my health. I looked thin; my countenance became yellow. I had also rheumatic feelings. My friends, seeing this, prevailed upon me to give myself two or three days' relaxation. And as a gentleman, of whom I had some knowledge, was going into Carmarthenshire, I accompanied him as far as Monmouth. After our parting at this place, I became restless and uneasy, and longed to get back to my work. I thought, however, that my journey ought not to be wholly useless to the cause; and hearing that Dr. Davis, a clergyman at Monmouth, was a man of considerable weight among the inhabitants, I took the liberty of writing him a letter, in which I stated who I was, and the way in which I had lately employed myself, and the great wish I had to be favoured with an interview with him; and I did not conceal that it would be very desirable, if the inhabitants of the place could have that information on the subject which would warrant them in so doing, that they should petition the legislature for the abolition of the Slave-trade. Dr. Davis returned me an answer, and received me. The questions which he put to me were judicious. He asked me, first, whether, if the slaves were emancipated, there would not be much confusion in the islands? I told him that the emancipation of them was no part of our plan. We solicited nothing but the stopping of all future importations of them into the islands. He then asked what the planters would do for labourers. I replied, they would find sufficient from an increase of the native population, if they were obliged to pay attention to the latter means. We discoursed a long time upon this last topic. I have not room to give the many other questions he proposed to me. No one was ever more judiciously questioned. In my turn, I put him into possession of all the discoveries I had made. He acknowledged the injustice of the trade. He confessed, also, that my conversation had enlightened him as to the impolicy of it; and, taking some of my Summary Views to distribute, he said, he hoped that the inhabitants would, after the perusal of them, accede to my request. On my return to Bristol, my friends had procured for me an interview with Mr. Alexander Falconbridge, who had been to the coast of Africa, as a surgeon, for four voyages; one in the Tartar, another in the Alexander, and two in the Emilia slave-vessels. On my introduction to him, I asked him if he had any objection to give me an account of the cruelties, which were said to be connected with the Slave-trade. He answered, without any reserve, that he had not; for that he had now done with it. Never were any words more welcome to my ears than these--"Yes--I have done with the trade"--and he said also, that he was free to give me information concerning it. Was he not then one of the very persons, whom I had so long been seeking, but in vain? To detail the accounts which he gave me at this and at subsequent interviews, relative to the different branches of this trade, would fill no ordinary volume. Suffice it to say in general terms, as far as relates to the slaves, that he confirmed the various violent and treacherous methods of procuring them in their own country; their wretched condition, in consequence of being crowded together, in the passage; their attempts to rise in defence of their own freedom, and, when this was impracticable, to destroy themselves by the refusal of sustenance, by jumping overboard into the sea, and in other ways; the effect also of their situation upon their minds, by producing insanity and various diseases; and the cruel manner of disposing of them in the West Indies, and of separating relatives and friends. With respect to the seamen employed in this trade, he commended captain Frazer for his kind usage to them, under whom he had so long served. The handsome way in which be spoke of the latter pleased me much, because I was willing to deduce from it his own impartiality, and because I thought I might infer from it also his regard to truth as to other parts of his narrative. Indeed I had been before acquainted with this circumstance. Thompson, of the Seven Stars, had informed me that Frazer was the only man sailing out of that port for slaves, who had not been guilty of cruelty to his seamen: and Mr. Burges alluded to it, when he gave me advice not to proceed against the captain of the Alfred; for he then said, as I mentioned in a former chapter, "that he knew but one captain in the trade, who did not deserve long ago to be hanged." Mr. Falconbridge, however, stated, that though he had been thus fortunate in the Tartar and Emilia, he had been as unfortunate in the Alexander; for he believed there were no instances upon naval record, taken altogether, of greater barbarity, than of that which had been exercised towards the seamen in this voyage. In running over these, it struck me that I had heard of the same from some other quarter, or at least that these were so like the others, that I was surprised at their coincidence. On taking out my notes, I looked for the names of those whom I recollected to have been used in this manner; and on desiring Mr. Falconbridge to mention the names of those also to whom he alluded, they turned out to be the same. The mystery, however, was soon cleared up, when I told him from whom I had received my intelligence: for Mr. Arnold, the last-mentioned person in the last chapter, had been surgeon's mate under Mr. Falconbridge in the same vessel. There was one circumstance of peculiar importance, but quite new to me, which I collected from the information which Mr. Falconbridge had given me. This was, that many of the seamen, who left the slave-ships in the West Indies, were in such a weak, ulcerated, and otherwise diseased state, that they perished there. Several also of those who came home with the vessels, were in the same deplorable condition. This was the case, Mr. Falconbridge said, with some who returned in the Alexander. It was the case also with many others; for he had been a pupil, for twelve months, in the Bristol Infirmary, and had had ample means of knowing the fact. The greatest number of seamen, at almost all times, who were there, were from the slave-vessels. These, too, were usually there on account of disease, whereas those from other ships were usually there on account of accidents. The health of some of the former was so far destroyed, that they were never wholly to be restored. This information was of great importance; for it showed that they who were reported dead upon the muster-rolls, were not all that were lost to the country by the prosecution of this wicked trade. Indeed, it was of so much importance, that in all my future interviews with others, which were for the purpose of collecting evidence, I never forgot to make it a subject of inquiry. I can hardly say how precious I considered the facts with which Mr. Falconbridge had furnished me from his own experience, relative to the different branches of this commerce. They were so precious, that I began now to be troubled lest I should lose them. For, though he had thus privately unbosomed himself to me, it did not follow that he would come forward as a public evidence. I was not a little uneasy on this account. I was fearful lest, when I should put this question to him, his future plan of life, or some little narrow consideration of future interest, would prevent him from giving his testimony, and I delayed asking him for many days. During this time, however, I frequently visited him; and at length, when I thought I was better acquainted, and probably in some little estimation, with him, I ventured to open my wishes on this subject. He answered me boldly, and at once, that he had left the trade upon principle, and that he would state all he knew concerning it, either publicly or privately, and at any time when he should be called upon to do it. This answer produced such an effect upon me, after all my former disappointments, that I felt it all over my frame. It operated like a sudden shock, which often disables the impressed person for a time. So the joy I felt rendered me quite useless, as to business, for the remainder of the day. I began to perceive in a little time the advantage of having cultivated an acquaintance with Thompson of the Seven Stars. For nothing could now pass in Bristol, relative to the seamen employed in this trade, but it was soon brought to me. If there was any thing amiss, I had so arranged matters that I was sure to hear of it. He sent for me one day to inform me that several of the seamen, who had been sent out of Marsh-street into the Prince, which was then at Kingroad, and on the point of sailing to Africa for slaves, had, through fear of ill-usage on the voyage, taken the boat and put themselves on shore. He informed me at the same time that the seamen of the Africa, which was lying there also and ready to sail on a like voyage, were not satisfied, for that they had been made to sign their articles of agreement, without being permitted to see them. To this he added that Mr. Sheriff, one of the mates of the latter vessel, was unhappy also on this account. Sheriff had been a mate in the West India trade, and was a respectable man in his line. He had been enticed by the captain of the Africa, under the promise of peculiar advantages, to change his voyage. Having a wife and family at Bristol, he was willing to make a sacrifice on their account. But when he himself was not permitted to read the articles, he began to suspect bad work, and that there would be nothing but misery in the approaching voyage. Thompson entreated me to extricate him, if I could. He was sure, he said, if he went to the Coast with that man, meaning the captain, that he would never return alive. I was very unwilling to refuse any thing to Thompson. I was deeply bound to him in gratitude for the many services he had rendered me, but I scarcely saw how I could serve him on this occasion. I promised however, to speak to him in an hour's time; I consulted my friend Truman Harford in the interim; and the result was, that he and I should proceed to Kingroad in a boat, go on board the Africa, and charge the captain in person with what he had done, and desire him to discharge Sheriff, as no agreement, where fraud or force was used in the signatures, could be deemed valid. If we were not able to extricate Sheriff by these means, we thought that at least we should know, by inquiring of those whom we should see on board, whether the measure of hindering the men from seeing their articles on signing them had been adopted. It would be useful to ascertain this, because such a measure had been long reported to be usual in this, but was said to be unknown in any other trade. Having passed the river's mouth and rowed towards the sea, we came near the Prince first, but pursued our destination to the Africa. Mr. Sheriff was the person who received us on board. I did not know him till I asked his name. I then told him my errand, with which he seemed to be much pleased. On asking him to tell the captain that I wished to speak with him, he replied that he was on shore. This put me to great difficulty, as I did not know then what to do. I consulted with Truman Harford, and it was our opinion, that we should inquire of the seamen, but in a very quiet manner, by going individually to each, if they had ever demanded to see the articles on signing them, and if they had been refused. We proposed this question to them. They replied, that the captain had refused them in a savage manner, making use of threats and oaths. There was not one contradictory voice on this occasion. We then asked Mr. Sheriff what we were to do. He entreated us by all means to take him on shore. He was sure that under such a man as the captain, and particularly after the circumstance of our coming on board should be made known to him, he would never come from the coast of Africa alive. Upon this, Truman Harford called me aside, and told me the danger of taking an officer from the ship; for that, if any accident should happen to her, the damage might all fall upon me. I then inquired of Mr. Sheriff if there was any officer on board, who could manage the ship. He pointed one out to me, and I spoke to him in the cabin. This person told me I need be under no apprehension about the vessel, but that every one would be sorry to lose Mr. Sheriff. Upon this ground, Truman Harford, who had felt more for me than for himself, became now easy. We had before concluded, that the obtaining any signature by fraud or force would render the agreement illegal. We therefore joined in opinion, that we might take away the man. His chest was accordingly put into our boat. We jumped into it with our rowers, and he followed us, surrounded by the seamen, all of whom took an affectionate leave of him, and expressed their regret at parting. Soon after this there was a general cry of "Will you take me too?" from the deck; and such a sudden movement appeared there, that we were obliged to push off directly from the side, fearing that many would jump into our boat and go with us. After having left the ship, Sheriff corroborated the desertion of the seamen from the Prince, as before related to me by Thompson. He spoke also of the savage disposition of his late captain, which he had even dared to manifest though lying in an English port. I was impressed by this account of his rough manners; and the wind having risen before and the surf now rolling heavily, I began to think what an escape I might have had; how easy it would have been for the savage captain, if he had been on board, or for any one at his instigation, to have pushed me over the ship's side. This was the first time I had ever considered the peril of the undertaking. But we arrived safe; and though on the same evening I left my name at the captain's house, as that of the person who had taken away his mate, I never heard more about it. In pursuing my inquiries into the new topic suggested by Mr. Falconbridge, I learnt that two of three of the seamen of the ship Thomas, which had been arrived now nearly a year from the Coast, were in a very crippled and deplorable state. I accordingly went to see them. One of them had been attacked by a fever, arising from circumstances connected with these voyages. The inflammation, which had proceeded from it, had reached his eyes. It could not be dispersed; and the consequence was, that he was then blind. The second was lame. He had badly ulcerated legs, and appeared to be very weak. The third was a mere spectre. I think he was the most pitiable object I ever saw. I considered him as irrecoverably gone. They all complained to me of their bad usage on board the Thomas. They said they had heard of my being in Bristol, and they hoped I would not leave it, without inquiring into the murder of William Lines. On inquiring who William Lines was, they informed me that he had been one of the crew of the same ship, and that all on board believed that he had been killed by the chief mate; but they themselves had not been present when the blows were given him. They had not seen him till afterwards; but their shipmates had told them of his cruel treatment, and they knew that soon afterwards he had died. In the course of the next day, the mother of Lines, who lived in Bristol, came to me and related the case. I told her there was no evidence as to the fact, for that I had seen three seamen, who could not speak to it from their own knowledge. She said, there were four others then in Bristol who could. I desired her to fetch them. When they arrived I examined each separately, and cross-examined them in the best manner I was able. I could find no variation in their account, and I was quite convinced that the murder had taken place. The mother was then importunate that I should take up the case. I was too much affected by the narration I had heard to refuse her wholly, and yet I did not promise that I would. I begged a little time to consider of it. During this I thought of consulting my friend Burges. But I feared he would throw cold water upon it, as he had done in the case of the captain of the Alfred. I remembered well what he had then said to me, and yet I felt a strong disposition to proceed. For the trade was still going on. Every day, perhaps, some new act of barbarity was taking place. And one example, if made, might counteract the evil for a time. I seemed, therefore to incline to stir in this matter, and thought, if I should get into any difficulty about it, it would be better to do it without consulting Mr. Burges, than, after having done it, to fly as it were in his face. I then sent for the woman, and told her, that she might appear with the witnesses at the Common Hall, where the magistrates usually sat on a certain day. We all met at the time appointed, and I determined to sit as near to the mayor as I could get. The hall was unusually crowded. One or two slave-merchants, and two or three others, who were largely concerned in the West India trade, were upon the bench. For I had informed the mayor the day before of my intention, and he, it appeared, had informed them. I shall never forget the savage looks which these people gave me; which indeed were so remarkable, as to occasion the eyes of the whole court to be turned upon me. They looked as if they were going to speak to me, and the people looked as if they expected me to say something in return. They then got round the mayor, and began to whisper to him, as I supposed, on the business before it should come on. One of them, however, said aloud to the former, but fixing his eyes upon me, and wishing me to overhear him, "Scandalous reports had lately been spread, but sailors were not used worse in Guineamen than in other vessels." This brought the people's eyes upon me again. I was very much irritated, but I thought it improper to say any thing. Another, looking savagely at me, said to the mayor, "that he had known captain Vicars a long time; that he was an honourable man[A], and would not allow such usage in his ship. There were always vagabonds to hatch up things:" and he made a dead point at me, by putting himself into a posture which attracted the notice of those present, and by staring me in the face, I could now no longer restrain myself, and I said aloud in as modest a manner as I could, "You, sir, may know many things which I do not. But this I know, that if you do not do your duty, you are amenable to a higher court." The mayor upon this looked at me, and directly my friend Mr. Burges, who was sitting as the clerk to the magistrates, went to him and whispered something in his ear; after which all private conversation between the mayor and others ceased, and the hearing was ordered to come on. [Footnote A: We may well imagine what this person's notion of another man's honour was; for he was the purser of the Brothers and of the Alfred, who, as before mentioned, sent the captains of those ships out a second voyage, after knowing their barbarities in the former. And he was also the purser of this very ship Thomas, where the murder had been committed. I by no means, however, wish by these observations to detract from the character of captain Vicars, as he had no concern in the cruel deed.] I shall not detain the reader by giving an account of the evidence which then transpired. The four witnesses were examined, and the case was so far clear. Captain Vicars, however, was sent for. On being questioned, he did not deny that there had been bad usage, but said that the young man had died of the flux. But this assertion went for nothing when balanced against the facts which had come out; and this was so evident, that an order was made out for the apprehension of the chief mate. He was accordingly taken up. The next day, however, there was a rehearing of the case, when he was returned to the gaol, where he was to lie till the Lords of the Admiralty should order a sessions to be held for the trial of offences committed on the high seas. This public examination of the case of William Lines, and the way in which it ended, produced an extraordinary result; for after this time the slave-captains and mates, who used to meet me suddenly, used as suddenly to start from me, indeed to the other side of the pavement, as if I had been a wolf, or tiger, or some dangerous beast of prey. Such of them as saw me before hand, used to run up the cross streets or lanes, which were nearest to them, to get away. Seamen, too, came from various quarters to apply to me for redress. One came to me, who had been treated ill in the Alexander, when Mr. Falconbridge had been the surgeon of her. Three came to me, who had been ill-used in the voyage which followed, though she had then sailed under a new captain. Two applied to me from the Africa, who had been of her crew in the last voyage. Two from the Fly. Two from the Wasp. One from the Little Pearl, and three from the Pilgrim or Princess, when she was last upon the coast. The different scenes of barbarity, which these represented to me, greatly added to the affliction of my mind. My feelings became now almost insupportable. I was agonized to think that this trade should last another day. I was in a state of agitation from morning till night. I determined I would soon leave Bristol. I saw nothing but misery in the place. I had collected now, I believed, all the evidence it would afford; and to stay in it a day longer than was necessary, would be only an interruption for so much time both of my happiness and of my health. I determined therefore to do only two or three things, which I thought to be proper, and to depart in a few days. And first I went to Bath, where I endeavoured to secure the respectable paper belonging to that city in favour of the abolition of the Slave-trade. This I did entirely to my satisfaction, by relating to the worthy editor all the discoveries I had made, and by impressing his mind in a forcible manner on the subject. And it is highly to the honour of Mr. Crutwell, that from that day he never ceased to defend our cause; that he never made a charge for insertions of any kind; but that he considered all he did upon this occasion in the light of a duty, or as his mite given in charity to a poor and oppressed people. The next attempt was to lay the foundation of a commitee in Bristol, and of a petition to Parliament from it for the abolition of the Slave-trade. I had now made many friends. A gentleman of the name of Paynter had felt himself much interested in my labours. Mr. Joseph Harford, a man of fortune, of great respectability of character, and of considerable influence, had attached himself to the cause. Dr. Fox had assisted me in it. Mr. Hughes, a clergyman of the Baptist church, was anxious and ready to serve it; Dr. Camplin, of the Establishment, with several of his friends, continued steady. Matthew Wright, James Harford, Truman Harford, and all the Quakers to a man, were strenuous, and this on the best of principles, in its support. To all these I spoke, and I had the pleasure of seeing that my wishes were likely in a short time to be gratified in both these cases. It was now necessary that I should write to the commitee in London. I had written to them only two letters, during my absence; for I had devoted myself so much to the great object I had undertaken, that I could think of little else. Hence some of my friends among them were obliged to write to different persons at Bristol, to inquire if I was alive. I gave up a day or two, therefore, to this purpose. I informed the commitee of all my discoveries in the various branches to which my attention had been directed, and desired them in return to procure me various official documents for the port of London, which I then specified. Having done this, I conferred with Mr. Falconbridge, relative to being with me at Liverpool. I thought it right to make him no other offer than that his expenses should be paid. He acceded to my request on these disinterested terms; and I took my departure from Bristol, leaving him to follow me in a few days. CHAPTER XVII. _Author secures the Glocester paper, and lays the foundation of a petition from that city--does the same at Worcester--and at Chester--arrives at Liverpool--collects specimens of African produce--also imports and exports--and muster-rolls--and accounts of dock-duties--and iron instruments used in the Slave-trade--His introduction to Mr. Norris, and others--Author and his errand become known--People visit him out of curiosity--Frequent controversies on the subject of the Slave-trade._ On my arrival at Glocester, I waited upon my friend Dean Tucker. He was pleased to hear of the great progress I had made since he left me. On communicating to him my intention of making interest with the editors of some provincial papers, to enlighten the public mind, and with the inhabitants of some respectable places, for petitions to Parliament, relative to the abolition of the Slave-trade, he approved of it, and introduced me to Mr. Raikes, the proprietor of the respectable paper belonging to that city. Mr. Raikes acknowledged, without any hesitation, the pleasure he should have in serving such a noble cause; and he promised to grant me, from time to time, a corner in his paper, for such things as I might point out to him for insertion. This promise he performed afterwards, without any pecuniary consideration, and solely on the ground of benevolence. He promised also his assistance as to the other object, for the promotion of which I left him several of my Summary Views to distribute. At Worcester I trod over the same ground, and with the same success. Timothy Bevington, of the religious society of the Quakers, was the only person to whom I had an introduction there. He accompanied me to the mayor, to the editor of the Worcester paper, and to several others, before each of whom I pleaded the cause of the oppressed Africans in the best manner I was able. I dilated both on the inhumanity and on the impolicy of the trade, which I supported by the various facts recently obtained at Bristol. I desired, however, as far as petitions were concerned, (and this desire I expressed on all other similar occasions,) that no attempt should be made to obtain these, till such information had been circulated on the subject, that every one, when called upon, might judge, from his knowledge of it, how far he would feel it right to join in it. For this purpose I left also here several of my Summary Views for distribution. After my arrival at Chester, I went to the bishop's residence, but I found he was not there. Knowing no other person in the place, I wrote a note to Mr. Cowdroy, whom I understood to be the editor of the Chester paper, soliciting an interview with him. I explained my wishes to him on both subjects. He seemed to be greatly rejoiced, when we met, that such a measure as that of the abolition of the Slave-trade was in contemplation. Living at so short a distance from Liverpool, and in a county from which so many persons were constantly going to Africa, he was by no means ignorant, as some were, of the nature of this cruel traffic; but yet he had no notion that I had probed it so deeply, or that I had brought to light such important circumstances concerning it, as he found by my conversation. He made me a hearty offer of his services on this occasion, and this expressly without fee or reward. I accepted them most joyfully and gratefully. It was, indeed, a most important thing, to have a station so near the enemy's camp, where we could watch their motions, and meet any attack which might be made from it. And this office of a sentinel Mr. Cowdroy performed with great vigilance; and when he afterwards left Chester for Manchester, to establish a paper there, he carried with him the same friendly disposition towards our cause. My first introduction at Liverpool was to William Rathbone, a member of the religious society of the Quakers. He was the same person, who, before the formation of our commitee, had procured me copies of several of the muster-rolls of the slave-vessels belonging to that port, so that, though we were not personally known, yet we were not strangers to each other. Isaac Hadwen, a respectable member of the same society, was the person whom I saw next. I had been introduced to him, previously to my journey, when he was at London, at the yearly meeting of the Quakers, so that no letter to him was necessary. As Mr. Roscoe had generously given the profits of The Wrongs of Africa to our commitee, I made no scruple of calling upon him. His reception of me was very friendly, and he introduced me afterwards to Dr. Currie, who had written the preface to that poem. There was also a fourth, upon whom I called, though I did not know him. His name was Edward Rushton. He had been an officer in a slave-ship, but had lost his sight, and had become an enemy to that trade. On passing through Chester, I had heard, for the first time, that he had published a poem called West-Indian Eclogues, with a view of making the public better acquainted with the evil of the Slave-trade, and of exciting their indignation against it. Of the three last it may be observed, that, having come forward thus early, as labourers, they deserve to be put down, as I have placed them in the map, among the forerunners and coadjutors in this great cause, for each published his work before any efforts were made publicly, or without knowing that any were intended. Rushton, also, had the boldness, though then living in Liverpool, to affix his name to his work. These were the only persons whom I knew for some time after my arrival in that place. It may not, perhaps, be necessary to enter so largely into my proceedings at Liverpool as at Bristol. The following account, therefore, may suffice. In my attempts to add to my collection of specimens of African produce, I was favoured with a sample of gum ruber astringens, of cotton from the Gambia, of indigo and musk, of long pepper, of black pepper from Whidàh, of mahogany from Calabàr, and of cloths of different colours, made by the natives, which, while they gave other proofs of the quality of their own cotton, gave proofs also, of the variety of their dyes. I made interest at the Custom-house for various exports and imports, and for copies of the muster-rolls of several slave-vessels, besides those of vessels employed in other trades. By looking out constantly for information on this great subject, I was led to the examination of a printed card or table of the dock-duties of Liverpool, which was published annually. The town of Liverpool had so risen in opulence and importance, from only a fishing-village, that the corporation seemed to have a pride in giving a public view of this increase. Hence they published and circulated this card. Now the card contained one, among other facts, which was almost as precious, in a political point of view, as any I had yet obtained. It stated, that in the year 1772, when I knew that a hundred vessels sailed out of Liverpool for the coast of Africa, the dock-duties amounted to 4552_l_., and that in 1779, when I knew that, in consequence of the war, only eleven went from thence to the same coast, they amounted to 4957_l_. From these facts, put together, two conclusions were obvious. The first was, that the opulence of Liverpool, as far as the entry of vessels into its ports, and the dock-duties arising from thence, were concerned, was not indebted to the Slave-trade; for these duties were highest when it had only eleven ships in that employ. The second was, that there had been almost a practical experiment with respect to the abolition of it; for the vessels in it had been gradually reduced from one hundred to eleven, and yet the West Indians had not complained of their ruin, nor had the merchants or manufacturers suffered, nor had Liverpool been affected by the change. [Illustration] There were specimens of articles in Liverpool, which I entirely overlooked at Bristol, and which I believe I should have overlooked here, also, had it not been for seeing them at a window in a shop; I mean those of different iron instruments used in this cruel traffic. I bought a pair of the iron hand-cuffs with which the men-slaves are confined. The right-hand wrist of one, and the left of another, are almost brought into contact by these, and fastened together, as the figure A in the annexed plate represents, by a little bolt with a small padlock at the end of it I bought also a pair of shackles for the legs. These are represented by the figure B. The right ancle of one man is fastened to the left of another, as the reader will observe, by similar means. I bought these, not because it was difficult to conceive how the unhappy victims of this execrable trade were confined, but to show the fact that they were so. For what was the inference from it, but that they did not leave their own country willingly; that, when they were in the holds of the slave-vessels, they were not in the Elysium which had been represented; and that there was a fear, either that they would make their escape, or punish their oppressors? I bought also a thumb-screw at this shop. The thumbs are put into this instrument through the two circular holes at the top of it. By turning a key, a bar rises up by means of a screw from C to D, and the pressure upon them becomes painful. By turning it further you may make the blood start from the ends of them. By taking the key away, as at E, you leave the tortured person in agony, without any means of extricating himself, or of being extricated by others. This screw, as I was then informed, was applied by way of punishment, in case of obstinacy in the slaves, or for any other reputed offence, at the discretion of the captain. At the same place I bought another instrument which I saw. It was called a speculum oris. The dotted lines in the figure on the right hand of the screw, represent it when shut, the black lines when open. It is opened, as at G H, by a screw below with a knob at the end of it. This instrument is known among surgeons, having been invented to assist them in wrenching open the mouth as in the case of a locked jaw. But it had got into use in this trade. On asking the seller of the instruments, on what occasion it was used there, he replied, that the slaves were frequently so sulky, as to shut their mouths against all sustenance, and this with a determination to die; and that it was necessary their mouths should be forced open to throw in nutriment, that they who had purchased them might incur no loss by their death. The town's talk of Liverpool was much of the same nature as that at Bristol on the subject of this trade. Horrible facts concerning it were in every body's mouth. But they were more numerous, as was likely to be the case, where eighty vessels were employed from one port, and only eighteen from the other. The people too at Liverpool seemed to be more hardened, or they related them with more coldness or less feeling. This may be, accounted for, from the greater number of those facts, as just related, the mention of which, as it was of course more frequent, occasioned them to lose their power of exciting surprise. All this I thought in my favour, as I should more easily, or with less obnoxiousness, come to the knowledge of what I wanted to obtain. My friend William Rathbone, who had been looking out to supply me with intelligence, but who was desirous that I should not be imposed upon, and that I should get it from the fountain-head, introduced me to Mr. Norris for this purpose. Norris had been formerly a slave-captain, but had quitted the trade and settled as a merchant in a different line of business. He was a man of quick penetration, and of good talents, which he had cultivated to advantage, and he had a pleasing address both as to speech and manners. He received me with great politeness, and offered me all the information I desired. I was with him five or six times at his own house for this purpose. The substance of his communications on these occasions I shall now put down, and I beg the reader's particular attention to it, as he will be referred to it in other parts of this work. With respect to the produce of Africa, Mr. Norris enumerated many articles in which a new and valuable trade might be opened, of which he gave me one, namely, the black pepper from Whidàh before mentioned. This he gave me, to use his own expressions, as one argument among many others of the impolicy of the Slave-trade, which, by turning the attention of the inhabitants to the persons of one another for sale, hindered foreigners from discovering, and themselves from cultivating, many of the valuable productions of their own soil. On the subject of procuring slaves he gave it as his decided opinion, that many of the inhabitants of Africa were kidnapped by each other, as they were travelling on the roads, or fishing in the creeks, or cultivating their little spots. Having learnt their language, he had collected the fact from various quarters, but more particularly from the accounts of slaves, whom he had transported in his own vessels. With respect however to Whidàh, many came from thence, who were reduced to slavery in a different manner. The king of Dahomey, whose life (with the wars and customs of the Dahomans) he said he was then writing, and who was a very despotic prince, made no scruple of seizing his own subjects, and of selling them, if he was in want of any of the articles which the slave-vessels would afford him. The history of this prince's life he lent me afterwards to read, while it was yet in manuscript, in which I observed that he had recorded all the facts now mentioned. Indeed he made no hesitation to state them, either when we were by ourselves, or when others were in company with us. He repeated them at one time in the presence both of Mr. Cruden and of Mr. Coupland. The latter was then a slave-merchant at Liverpool. He seemed to be fired at the relation of these circumstances. Unable to restrain himself longer, he entered into a defence of the trade, both as to the humanity and the policy of it. But Mr. Norris took up his arguments in both these cases, and answered them in a solid manner. With respect to the Slave-trade, as it affected the health of our seamen, Mr. Norris admitted it to be destructive. But I did not stand in need of this information, as I knew this pare of the subject, in consequence of my familiarity with the muster-rolls, better than himself. He admitted it also to be true, that they were too frequently ill-treated in this trade. A day or two after our conversation on this latter subject he brought me the manuscript journal of a voyage to Africa, which had been kept by a mate, with whom he was then acquainted. He brought it to me to read, as it might throw some light upon the subject on which we had talked last. In this manuscript various instances of cruel usage towards seamen were put down, from which it appeared that the mate, who wrote it, had not escaped himself. At the last interview we had he seemed to be so satisfied of the inhumanity, injustice, and impolicy of the trade, that he made me a voluntary offer of certain clauses, which he had been thinking of, and which, he believed, if put into an act of parliament, would judiciously effect its abolition. The offer of these clauses I embraced eagerly. He dictated them, and I wrote. I wrote them in a small book which I had then in pocket. They were these: No vessel under a heavy penalty to supply foreigners with slaves. Every vessel to pay to government a tax for a register on clearing out to supply our own islands with slaves. Every such vessel to be prohibited from purchasing or bringing home any of the productions of Africa. Every such vessel to be prohibited from bringing home a passenger, or any article of produce, from the West Indies. A bounty to be given to every vessel trading in the natural productions of Africa. This bounty to be paid in part out of the tax arising from the registers of the slave-vessels. Certain establishments to be made by government in Africa, in the Bananas, in the Isles de Los, on the banks of the Camaranca, and in other places, for the encouragement and support of the new trade to be substituted there. Such then were the services, which Mr. Morris, at the request of William Rathbone, rendered me at Liverpool, during my stay there; and I have been very particular in detailing them, because I shall be obliged to allude to them, as I have before observed, on some important occasions in a future part of the work. On going my rounds one day, I met accidentally with captain Chaffers. This gentleman either was or had been in the West India employ. His heart had beaten in sympathy with mine, and he had greatly favoured our cause. He had seen me at Mr. Norris's, and learned my errand there. He told me he could introduce me in a few minutes, as we were then near at hand, to captain Lace, if I chose it. Captain Lace, he said, had been long in the Slave-trade, and could give me very accurate information about it. I accepted his offer. On talking to captain Lace, relative to the productions of Africa, he told me that mahogany grew at Calabàr. He began to describe a tree of that kind, which he had seen there. This tree was from about eighteen inches to two feet in diameter, and about sixty feet high, or, as he expressed it, of the height of a tall chimney. As soon as he mentioned Calabàr, a kind of horror came over me. His name became directly associated in my mind with the place. It almost instantly occurred to me, that he commanded the Edgar out of Liverpool, when the dreadful massacre there, as has been related, took place. Indeed I seemed to be so confident of it, that, attending more to my feelings than to my reason at this moment, I accused him with being concerned in it. This produced great confusion among us. For he looked incensed at captain Chaffers, as if he had introduced me to him for this purpose. Captain Chaffers again seemed to be all astonishment that I should have known of this circumstance, and to be vexed that I should have mentioned it in such a manner. I was also in a state of trembling myself. Captain Lace could only say it was a bad business. But he never defended himself, nor those concerned in it. And we soon parted, to the great joy of us all. Soon after this interview I began to perceive that I was known in Liverpool, as well as the object for which I came. Mr. Coupland, the slave-merchant, with whom I had disputed at Mr. Norris's house, had given the alarm to those who were concerned in the trade, and captain Lace, as may be now easily imagined, had spread it. This knowledge of me and of my errand was almost immediately productive of two effects, the first of which I shall now mention. I had a private room at the King's Arms tavern, besides my bed-room, where I used to meditate and to write. But I generally dined in public. The company at dinner had hitherto varied but little as to number, and consisted of those, both from the town and country, who had been accustomed to keep up a connection with the house. But now things were altered, and many people came to dine there daily with a view of seeing me, as if I had been some curious creature imported from foreign parts. They thought also, they could thus have an opportunity of conversing with me. Slave-merchants and slave-captains came in among others for this purpose. I had observed this difference in the number of our company for two or three days. Dale, the master of the tavern, had observed it also, and told me in a good-natured manner, that, many of these were my visitors, and that I was likely to bring him a great deal of custom. In a little time however things became serious; for they, who came to see me, always started the abolition of the Slave-trade as the subject for conversation. Many entered into the justification of this trade with great warmth, as if to ruffle my temper, or at any rate to provoke me to talk. Others threw out, with the same view, that men were going about to abolish it, who would have done much better if they had staid at home. Others said they had heard of a person turned mad, who had conceived the thought of destroying Liverpool, and all its glory. Some gave as a toast, Success to the Trade, and then laughed immoderately, and watched me when I took my glass to see if I would drink it. I saw the way in which things were now going, and I believed it would be proper that I should come to some fixed resolutions; such as, whether I should change my lodgings, and whether I should dine in private; and if not, what line of conduct it would become me to pursue on such occasions. With respect to changing my lodgings and dining in private, I conceived, if I were to do either of these things, that I should be showing an unmanly fear of my visitors, which they would turn to their own advantage. I conceived too, that, if I chose to go on as before, and to enter into conversation with them on the subject of the abolition of the Slave-trade, I might be able, by having such an assemblage of persons daily, to gather all the arguments which they could collect on the other side of our question, an advantage which I should one day feel in the future management of the cause. With respect to the line, which I should pursue in the case of remaining in the place of my abode and in my former habits, I determined never to start the subject of the abolition myself--never to abandon it when started--never to defend it but in a serious and dignified manner--and never to discover any signs of irritation, whatever provocation might be given me. By this determination I abided rigidly. The King's Arms became now daily the place for discussion on this subject. Many tried to insult me, but to no purpose. In all these discussions I found the great advantage of having brought Mr. Falconbridge with me from Bristol: for he was always at the table; and when my opponents, with a disdainful look, tried to ridicule my knowledge, among those present, by asking me if I had ever been on the coast of Africa myself, he used generally to reply, "But I have. I know all your proceedings there, and that his statements are true." These and other words put in by him, who was an athletic and resolute-looking man, were of great service to me. All disinterested persons, of whom there were four or five daily in the room, were uniformly convinced by our arguments, and took our part, and some of them very warmly. Day after day we beat our opponents out of the field, as many of the company acknowledged, to their no small mortification, in their presence. Thus, while we served the cause by discovering all that could be said against it, we served it by giving numerous individuals proper ideas concerning it, and of interesting them in our favour. The second effect which I experienced was, that from this time I could never get any one to come forward as an evidence to serve the cause. There were, I believe, hundreds of persons in Liverpool, and in the neighbourhood of it, who had been concerned in this traffic, and who had left it, all of whom could have given such testimony concerning it as would have insured its abolition. But none of them would now speak out. Of these indeed there were some, who were alive to the horrors of it, and who lamented that it should still continue. But yet even these were backward in supporting me. All that they did was just privately to see me, to tell me that I was right, and to exhort me to persevere: but as to coming forward to be examined publicly, my object was so unpopular, and would become so much more so when brought into parliament, that they would have their houses pulled down, if they should then appear as public instruments in the annihilation of the trade. With this account I was obliged to rest satisfied; nor could I deny, when I considered the spirit, which had manifested itself, and the extraordinary number of interested persons in the place, that they had some reason for their fears: and that these fears were not groundless, appeared afterwards; for Dr. Binns, a respectable physician belonging to the religious society of the Quakers, and to whom Isaac Hadwen had introduced me, was near falling into a mischievous plot, which had been laid against him, because he was one of the subscribers to the Institution for the Abolition of the Slave-trade, and because he was suspected of having aided me in prompting that object. CHAPTER XVIII. _Hostile disposition towards the author increases, on account of his known patronage of the seamen employed in the Slave-trade--manner of procuring and paying them at Liverpool--their treatment, and mortality--Account of the murder of Peter Green--trouble taken by the author to trace it--his narrow escape--goes to Lancaster--but returns to Liverpool--leaves the latter place._ It has appeared that a number of persons used to come and see me, out of curiosity, at the King's Arms tavern; and that these manifested a bad disposition towards me, which was near breaking out into open insult. Now the cause of all this was, as I have observed, the knowledge which people had obtained, relative to my errand at this place. But this hostile disposition was increased by another circumstance, which I am now to mention. I had been so shocked at the treatment of the seamen belonging to the slave-vessels at Bristol, that I determined, on my arrival at Liverpool, to institute an inquiry concerning it there also. I had made considerable progress in it, so that few seamen were landed from such vessels, but I had some communication with them; and though no one else would come near me, to give me any information about the trade, these were always forward to speak to me, and to tell me their grievances, if it were only with the hope of being able to get redress. The consequence of this was, that they used to come to the King's Arms tavern to see me. Hence one, two, and three were almost daily to be found about the door; and this happened quite as frequently after the hostility just mentioned had shown itself, as before. They, therefore, who came to visit me out of curiosity, could not help seeing my sailor visitors; and on inquiring into their errand, they became more than ever incensed against me. The first result of this increased hostility towards me was an application from some of them to the master of the tavern, that he would not harbour me. This he communicated to me in a friendly manner, but he was by no means desirous that I should leave him. On the other hand, he hoped I would stay long enough to accomplish my object. I thought it right, however, to take the matter into consideration; and, having canvassed it, I resolved to remain with him, for the reasons mentioned in the former chapter. But, that I might avoid doing any thing that would be injurious to his interest, as well as in some measure avoid giving unnecessary offence to others, I took lodgings in Williamson Square, where I retired to write, and occasionally to sleep, and to which place all seamen, desirous of seeing me, were referred. Hence I continued to get the same information as before, but in a less obnoxious and injurious manner. The history of the seamen employed in the slave-vessels belonging to the port of Liverpool, I found to be similar to that of those from Bristol. They, who went into this trade, were of two classes. The first consisted of those who were ignorant of it, and to whom, generally, improper representations of advantage had been made, for the purpose of enticing them into it. The second consisted of those, who, by means of a regular system, kept up by the mates and captains, had been purposely brought by their landlords into distress, from which they could only be extricated by going into this hateful employ. How many have I seen, with tears in their eyes, put into boats, and conveyed to vessels, which were then lying at the Black Rock, and which were only waiting to receive them to sail away! The manner of paying them in the currency of the Islands was the same as at Bristol. But this practice was not concealed at Liverpool, as it was at the former place. The articles of agreement were printed, so that all, who chose to buy, might read them. At the same time it must be observed, that seamen were never paid in this manner in any other employ; and that the African wages, though nominally higher for the sake of procuring hands, were thus made to be actually lower than in other trades. The loss by death was so similar, that it did not signify whether the calculation on a given number was made either at this or the other port. I had, however, a better opportunity at this, than I had at the other, of knowing the loss as it related to those, whose constitutions had been ruined, or who had been rendered incapable, by disease, of continuing their occupation at sea. For the slave-vessels, which returned to Liverpool, sailed immediately into the docks, so that I saw at once their sickly and ulcerated crews. The number of vessels, too, was so much greater from this, than from any other port, that their sick made a more conspicuous figure in the infirmary. And they were seen also more frequently in the streets. With respect to their treatment, nothing could be worse. It seemed to me to be but one barbarous system from the beginning to the end. I do not say barbarous, as if premeditated, but it became so in consequence of the savage habits gradually formed by a familiarity with miserable sights, and with a course of action inseparable from the trade. Men in their first voyages usually disliked the traffic; and, if they were happy enough then to abandon it, they usually escaped the disease of a hardened heart. But if they went a second and a third time, their disposition became gradually changed. It was impossible for them to be accustomed to carry away men and women by force, to keep them in chains, to see their tears, to hear their mournful lamentations, to behold the dead and the dying, to be obliged to keep up a system of severity amidst all this affliction,--in short, it was impossible for them to be witnesses, and this for successive voyages, to the complicated mass of misery passing in a slave-ship, without losing their finer feelings, or without contracting those habits of moroseness and cruelty, which would brutalize their nature. Now, if we consider that persons could not easily become captains (and to these the barbarities were generally chargeable by actual perpetration, or by consent) till they had been two or three voyages in this employ, we shall see the reason why it would be almost a miracle, if they, who were thus employed in it, were not rather to become monsters, than to continue to be men. While I was at Bristol, I heard from an officer of the Alfred, who gave me the intelligence privately, that the steward of a Liverpool ship, whose name was Green, had been murdered in that ship. The Alfred was in Bonny river at the same time, and his own captain (so infamous for his cruelty, as has been before shown) was on board when it happened. The circumstances, he said, belonging to this murder, were, if report were true, of a most atrocious nature, and deserved to be made the subject of inquiry. As to the murder itself, he observed, it had passed as a notorious and uncontradicted fact. This account was given me just as I had made an acquaintance with Mr. Falconbridge, and I informed him of it. He said he had no doubt of its truth. For in his last voyage he went to Bonny himself, where the ship was then lying, in which the transaction happened. The king and several of the black traders told him of it. The report then current was simply this, that the steward had been barbarously beaten one evening; that after this he was let down with chains upon him into a boat, which was alongside of the ship, and that the next morning he was found dead. On my arrival at Liverpool, I resolved to inquire into the truth of this report. On looking into one of the wet docks, I saw the name of the vessel alluded to. I walked over the decks of several others, and got on board her. Two people were walking up and down her, and one was leaning upon a rail by the side. I asked the latter how many slaves this ship had carried in her last voyage. He replied, he could not tell; but one of the two persons walking about could answer me, as he had sailed out and returned in her. This man came up to us, and joined in conversation. He answered my question and many others, and would have shown me the ship. But on asking him how many seamen had died on the voyage, he changed his manner, and said, with apparent hesitation, he could not tell. I asked him next, what had become of the steward Green. He said, he believed he was dead. I asked how the seamen had been used. He said, Not worse than others. I then asked whether Green had been used worse than others. He replied, he did not then recollect. I found that he was now quite upon his guard, and as I could get no satisfactory answer from him I left the ship. On the next day, I looked over the muster-roll of this vessel. On examining it, I found that sixteen of the crew had died. I found also the name of Peter Green. I found, again, that the latter had been put down among the dead. I observed also, that the ship had left Liverpool on the fifth of June 1786, and had returned on the fifth of June 1787, and that Peter Green was put down as having died on the nineteenth of September; from all which circumstances it was evident that he must, as my Bristol information asserted, have died upon the Coast. Notwithstanding this extraordinary coincidence of name, mortality, time, and place, I could gain no further intelligence about the affair till within about ten days before I left Liverpool; when among the seamen, who came to apply to me in Williamson Square, was George Ormond. He came to inform me of his own ill-usage; from which circumstance I found that he had sailed in the same ship with Peter Green. This led me to inquire into the transaction in question, and I received from him the following, account:-- Peter Green had been shipped as steward. A black woman, of the name of Rodney, went out in the same vessel. She belonged to the owners of it, and was to be an interpretess to the slaves who should be purchased. About five in the evening, some time in the month of September, the vessel then lying in Bonny river, the captain, as was his custom, went on shore. In his absence, Rodney, the black woman, asked Green for the keys of the pantry; which he refused her, alleging that the captain had already beaten him for having given them to her on a former occasion, when she drunk the wine. The woman, being passionate, struck him, and a scuffle ensued, out of which Green extricated himself as well as he could. When the scuffle was over the woman retired to the cabin, and appeared pensive. Between eight and nine in the evening, the captain, who was attended by the captain of the Alfred, came on board. Rodney immediately ran to him, and informed him that Green had made an assault upon her. The captain, without any inquiry, beat him severely, and ordered his hands to be made fast to some bolts on the starboard side of the ship and under the half deck, and then flogged him himself, using the lashes of the cat-of-nine-tails upon his back at one time, and the double walled knot at the end of it upon his head at another; and stopping to rest at intervals, and using each hand alternately, that he might strike with the greater severity. The pain, had now become so very severe, that Green cried out, and entreated the captain of the Alfred, who was standing by, to pity his hard case, and to intercede for him. But the latter replied, that he would have served him in the same manner. Unable to find a friend here, he called upon the chief mate; but this only made matters worse, for the captain then ordered the latter to flog him also; which he did for some time, using however only the lashes of the instrument. Green then called in his distress upon the second mate to speak for him; but the second mate was immediately ordered to perform the same cruel office, and was made to persevere in it till the lashes were all worn into threads. But the barbarity did not close here: for the captain, on seeing the instrument now become useless, ordered another, with which he flogged him as before, beating him at times over the head with the double walled knot, and changing his hands, and cursing his own left hand for not being able to strike so severe a blow as his right. The punishment, as inflicted by all parties, had now lasted two hours and a half, when George Ormond was ordered to cut down one of the arms, and the boatswain the other, from the places of their confinement. This being done, Green lay motionless on the deck. He attempted to utter something. Ormond understood it to be the word water. But no water was allowed him. The captain, on the other hand, said he had not yet done with him, and ordered him to be confined with his arms across, his right hand to his left foot, and his left hand to his right foot. For this purpose the carpenter brought shackles, and George Ormond was compelled to put them on. The captain then ordered some tackle to be made fast to the limbs of the said Peter Green, in which situation he was then hoisted up, and afterwards let down into a boat, which was lying alongside the ship. Michael Cunningham was then sent to loose the tackle, and to leave him there. In the middle watch, or between one and two next morning, George Ormond looked out of one of the port-holes, and called to Green, but received no answer. Between two and three, Paul Berry, a seaman, was sent down into the boat and found him dead. He made his report to one of the officers of the ship. About five in the morning, the body was brought up, and laid on the waist near the half-deck door. The captain on seeing the body, when he rose, expressed no concern, but ordered it to be knocked out of irons, and to be buried at the usual place of interment for seamen, or Bonny Point. I may now observe, that the deceased was in good health before the punishment took place, and in high spirits; for he played upon the flute only a short time before Rodney asked him for the keys, while those seamen, who were in health, danced. On hearing this cruel relation from George Ormond, who was throughout a material witness to the scene, I had no doubt in my own mind of the truth of it. But I thought it right to tell him at once that I had seen a person, about four weeks ago, who had been the same voyage with him and Peter Green, but yet who had no recollection of these circumstances. Upon this he looked quite astonished, and began to grow angry. He maintained he had seen the whole. He had also held the candle himself during the whole punishment. He asserted that one candle and half of another were burnt out while it lasted. He said also that, while the body lay in the waist, he had handled the abused parts, and had put three of his fingers into a hole, made by the double walled knot, in the head, from whence a quantity of blood and, he believed, brains issued. He then challenged me to bring the man before him. I desired him upon this to be cool, and to come to me the next day, and I would then talk with him again upon the subject. In the interim I consulted the muster-roll of the vessel again. I found the name of George Ormond. He had sailed in her out of Liverpool, and had been discharged at the latter end of January in the West Indies, as he had told me. I found also the names of Michael Cunningham and of Paul Berry, whom he had mentioned. It was obvious also that Ormond's account of the captain of the Alfred being on board at the time of the punishment, tallied with that given me at Bristol by an officer of that vessel, and that his account of letting down Peter Green into the boat tallied with that, which Mr. Falconbridge, as I mentioned before, had heard from the king and the black traders in Bonny river. When he came to me next day, he came in high spirits. He said he had found out the man whom I had seen. The man, however, when he talked to him about the murder of Peter Green, acknowledged every thing concerning it. Ormond intimated that this man was to sail again in the same ship under the promise of being an officer, and that he had been kept on board, and had been enticed to a second voyage, for no other purpose than that he might be prevented from divulging the matter. I then asked Ormond, whether he thought the man would acknowledge the murder in my hearing. He replied, that, if I were present, he thought he would not say much about it, as he was soon to be under the same captain, but that he would not deny it. If however I were out of sight, though I might be in hearing, he believed he would acknowledge the facts. By the assistance of Mr. Falconbridge, I found a public-house, which had two rooms in it. Nearly at the top of the partition between them was a small window, which a person might look through by standing upon a chair. I desired Ormond, one evening, to invite the man into the larger room, in which he was to have a candle, and to talk with him on the subject. I purposed to station myself in the smallest in the dark, so that by looking through the window I could both see and hear him, and yet be unperceived myself. The room, in which I was to be, was one, where the dead were frequently carried to be owned. We were all in our places at the time appointed. I directly discovered that it was the same man with whom I had conversed on board the ship in the wet docks. I heard him distinctly relate many of the particulars of the murder, and acknowledge them all. Ormond, after having talked with him some time, said, "Well, then, you believe Peter Green was actually murdered?" He replied, "If Peter Green was not murdered, no man ever was." What followed I do not know. I had heard quite enough; and the room was so disagreeable in smell, that I did not choose to stay in it longer than was absolutely necessary. I was now quite satisfied that the murder had taken place, and my first thought was to bring the matter before the mayor, and to take up three of the officers of the ship. But, in mentioning my intention to my friends, I was dissuaded from it. They had no doubt but that in Liverpool, as there was now a notion that the Slave-trade would become a subject of parliamentary inquiry, every effort would be made to overthrow me. They were of opinion also that such of the magistrates, as were interested in the trade, when applied to for warrants of apprehension, would contrive to give notice to the officers to escape. In addition to this they believed, that so many in the town were already incensed against me, that I should be torn to pieces, and the house where I lodged burnt down, if I were to make the attempt. I thought it right therefore to do nothing for the present; but I sent Ormond to London, to keep him out of the way of corruption, till I should make up my mind as to further proceedings on the subject. It is impossible, if I observe the bounds I have prescribed myself, and I believe the reader will be glad of it on account of his own feelings, that I should lay open the numerous cases, which came before me at Liverpool, relative to the ill treatment of the seamen in this wicked trade. It may be sufficient to say, that they harassed my constitution, and affected my spirits daily. They were in my thoughts on my pillow after I retired to rest, and I found them before my eyes when I awoke. Afflicting however as they were, they were of great use in the promotion of our cause. For they served, whatever else failed, as a stimulus to perpetual energy. They made me think light of former labours, and they urged me imperiously to new. And here I may observe, that among the many circumstances, which ought to excite our joy on considering the great event of the abolition of the Slave-trade, which has now happily taken place, there are few for which we ought to be more grateful, than that from this time our commerce ceases to breed such abandoned wretches; while those, who have thus been bred in it, and who may yet find employment in other trades, will in the common course of nature be taken off in a given time, so that our marine will at length be purified from a race of monsters, which have helped to cripple its strength, and to disgrace its character. The temper of many of the interested people of Liverpool had now become still more irritable, and their hostility more apparent than before. I received anonymous letters, entreating me to leave it, or I should otherwise never leave it alive. The only effect, which this advice had upon me, was to make me more vigilant when I went out at night. I never stirred out at this time without Mr. Falconbridge. And he never accompanied me without being well armed. Of this, however, I knew nothing until we had left the place. There was certainly a time, when I had reason to believe that I had a narrow escape. I was one day on the pier-head with many others looking at some little boats below at the time of a heavy gale. Several persons, probably out of curiosity, were hastening thither. I had seen all I intended to see, and was departing, when I noticed eight or nine persons making towards me. I was then only about eight or nine yards from the precipice of the pier, but going from it. I expected that they would have divided to let me through them; instead of which they closed upon me and bore me back. I was borne within a yard of the precipice, when I discovered my danger; and perceiving among them the murderer of Peter Green, and two others who had insulted me at the King's Arms, it instantly struck me that they had a design to throw me over the pier-head; which they might have done at this time, and yet have pleaded that I had been killed by accident. There was not a moment to lose. Vigorous on account of the danger, I darted forward. One of them, against whom I pushed myself, fell down. Their ranks were broken. And I escaped, not without blows, amidst their imprecations and abuse. I determined now to go to Lancaster, to make some inquiries about the Slave-trade there. I had a letter of introduction to William Jepson, one of the religious society of the Quakers, for this purpose. I found from him, that, though there were slave-merchants at Lancaster, they made their outfits at Liverpool, as a more convenient port. I learnt too from others, that the captain of the last vessel, which had sailed out of Lancaster to the coast of Africa for slaves, had taken off so many of the natives treacherously, that any other vessel known to come from it would be cut off. There were only now one or two superannuated captains living in the place. Finding I could get no oral testimony, I was introduced into the Custom-house. Here I just looked over the muster-rolls of such slave-vessels as had formerly sailed from this port; and having found that the loss of seamen was precisely in the same proportion as elsewhere, I gave myself no further trouble, but left the place. On my return to Liverpool, I was informed by Mr. Falconbridge, that a shipmate of Ormond, of the name of Patrick Murray, who had been discharged in the West Indies, had arrived there. This man, he said, had been to call upon me in my absence, to seek redress for his own bad usage; but in the course of conversation he had confirmed all the particulars as stated by Ormond, relative to the murder of Peter Green. On consulting the muster-roll of the ship, I found his name, and that he had been discharged in the West Indies on the second of February. I determined therefore to see him. I cross-examined him in the best manner I could. I could neither make him contradict himself, nor say any thing that militated against the testimony of Ormond. I was convinced therefore of the truth of the transaction; and, having obtained his consent, I sent him to London to stay with the latter, till he should hear further from me. I learnt also from Mr. Falconbridge, that my visitors had continued to come to the King's Arms during my absence; that they had been very liberal of their abuse of me; and that one of them did not hesitate to say (which is remarkable) that "I deserved to be thrown over the pier-head." Finding now that I could get no further evidence; that the information which I had already obtained was considerable[A]; and that the commitee had expressed an earnest desire, in a letter which I had received, that I would take into consideration the propriety of writing my Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave-trade as soon possible, I determined upon leaving Liverpool. I went round accordingly and took leave of my friends. The last of these was William Rathbone, and I have to regret, that it was also the last time I ever saw him. Independently of the gratitude I owed him for assisting me in this great cause, I respected him highly as a man. He possessed a fine understanding with a solid judgment. He was a person of extraordinary simplicity of manners. Though he lived in a state of pecuniary independence, he gave an example of great temperance, as well as of great humility of mind. But however humble he appeared, he had always the courage to dare to do that which was right, however it might resist the customs or the prejudices of men. In his own line of trade, which was that of a timber-merchant on an extensive scale, he would not allow any article to be sold for the use of a slave-ship, and he always refused those, who applied to him for materials for such purposes. But it is evident that it was his intention, if he had lived, to bear his testimony still more publicly upon this subject; for an advertisement, stating the ground of his refusal to furnish any thing for this traffic upon Christian principles, with a memorandum for two advertisements in the Liverpool papers, was found among his papers at his decease. [Footnote A: In London, Bristol and Liverpool, I had already obtained the names of more than 20,000 seamen, in different voyages, knowing what had become of each.] CHAPTER XIX. _Author proceeds to Manchester--finds a spirit rising among the people there for the abolition of the Slave-trade--is requested to deliver a discourse on the subject of the Slave-trade--heads of it--and extracts--proceeds to Keddleston--and Birmingham--finds a similar spirit at the latter place--revisits Bristol--new and difficult situation there--Author crosses the Severn at night--unsuccessful termination of his journey--returns to London._ I now took my departure from Liverpool, and proceeded to Manchester, where I arrived on the Friday evening. On the Saturday morning Mr. Thomas Walker, attended by Mr. Cooper and Mr. Bayley of Hope, called upon me. They were then strangers to me. They came, they said, having heard of my arrival, to congratulate me on the spirit which was then beginning to show itself, among the people of Manchester and of other places, on the subject of the Slave-trade, and which would unquestionably manifest itself further by breaking out into petitions to parliament for its abolition. I was much surprised at this information. I had devoted myself so entirety to my object, that I had never had time to read a newspaper since I left London. I never knew therefore, till now, that the attention of the public had been drawn to the subject in such a manner. And as to petitions, though I myself had suggested the idea at Bridgewater, Bristol, Gloucester, and two or three other places, I had only done it provisionally, and this without either the knowledge or the consent of the commitee. The news, however, as it astonished, so it almost overpowered me with joy. I rejoiced in it because it was a proof of the general good disposition of my countrymen; because it showed me that the cause was such as needed only to be known, to be patronised; and because the manifestation of this spirit seemed to me to be an earnest, that success would ultimately follow. The gentlemen now mentioned took me away with them, and introduced me to Mr. Thomas Phillips. We conversed at first upon the discoveries made in my journey; but in a little time, understanding that I had been educated as a clergyman, they came upon me with one voice, as if it had been before agreed upon, to deliver a discourse the next day, which was Sunday, on the subject of the Slave-trade. I was always aware that it was my duty to do all that I could with propriety to serve the cause I had undertaken, and yet I found myself embarrassed at their request. Foreseeing, as I have before related, that this cause might demand my attention to it for the greatest part of my life, I had given up all thoughts of my profession. I had hitherto but seldom exercised it, and then only to oblige some friend. I doubted too, at the first view of the thing, whether the pulpit ought to be made an engine for political purposes, though I could not but consider the Slave-trade as a mass of crimes, and therefore the effort to get rid of it as a Christian duty. I had an idea too, that sacred matters should not be entered upon without due consideration, nor prosecuted in a hasty, but in a decorous and solemn manner. I saw besides, that as it was then two o'clock in the afternoon, and this sermon was to be forthcoming the next day, there was not sufficient time to compose it properly. All these difficulties I suggested to my new friends without any reserve. But nothing that I could urge would satisfy them. They would not hear of a refusal, and I was obliged to give my consent, though I was not reconciled to the measure. When I went into the church it was so full that I could scarcely get to my place; for notice had been publicly given, though I knew nothing of it, that such a discourse would be delivered. I was surprised also to find a great crowd of black people standing round the pulpit. There might be forty or fifty of them. The text that I took, as the best to be found in such a hurry, was the following: "Thou shalt not oppress a stranger, for ye know the heart of a stranger, seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt." I took an opportunity of showing from these words, that Moses, in endeavouring to promote among the Children of Israel a tender disposition towards those unfortunate strangers who had come under their dominion, reminded them of their own state when strangers in Egypt, as one of the most forcible arguments which could be used on such an occasion. For they could not have forgotten that the Egyptians "had made them serve with rigour; that they had made their lives bitter with hard bondage, in mortar, and in brick, and in all manner of service in the field; and that all the service, wherein they made them serve, was with rigour." The argument therefore of Moses was simply this; "Ye knew well, when ye were strangers in Egypt, the nature of your own feelings. Were you not made miserable by your debased situation there? But if so, you must be sensible that the stranger, who has the same heart, or the same feelings with yourselves, must experience similar suffering, if treated in a similar manner. I charge you then, knowing this, to stand clear of the crime of his oppression." The law, then, by which Moses commanded the Children of Israel to regulate their conduct with respect to the usage of the stranger, I showed to be a law of universal and eternal obligation, and for this, among other reasons, that it was neither more nor less than the Christian law, which appeared afterwards, that we should not do that to others, which we should be unwilling to have done unto ourselves. Having gone into these statements at some length, I made an application of them in the following words:-- "This being the case, and this law of Moses being afterwards established into a fundamental precept of Christianity, I must apply it to facts of the present day, and I am sorry that I must apply it to--ourselves. "And first, Are there no strangers, whom we oppress? I fear the wretched African will say, that he drinks the cup of sorrow, and that he drinks it at our hands. Torn from his native soil, and from his family and friends, he is immediately forced into a situation, of all others the most degrading, where he and his progeny are considered as cattle, as possessions, and as the possessions of a man to whom he never gave offence. "It is a melancholy fact, but it can be abundantly proved, that great numbers of the unfortunate strangers, who are carried from Africa to our colonies, are fraudulently and forcibly taken from their native soil. To descant but upon a single instance of the kind must be productive of pain to the ear of sensibility and freedom. Consider the sensations of the person, who is thus carried off by the ruffians, who have been lurking to intercept him. Separated from every thing which he esteems in life, without the possibility even of bidding his friends adieu, behold him overwhelmed in tears--wringing his hands in despair--looking backwards upon the spot where all his hopes and wishes lay,--while his family at home are waiting for him with anxiety and suspense--are waiting, perhaps, for sustenance--are agitated between hope and fear--till length of absence confirms the latter, and they are immediately plunged into inconceivable misery and distress. "If this instance, then, is sufficiently melancholy of itself, and is at all an act of oppression, how complicated will our guilt appear, who are the means of snatching away thousands annually in the same manner, and who force them and their families into the same unhappy situation, without either remorse or shame!" Having proceeded to show, in a more particular manner than I can detail here, how, by means of the Slave-trade, we oppressed the stranger, I made an inquiry into the other branch of the subject, or how far we had a knowledge of his heart. To elucidate this point, I mentioned several specific instances, out of those which I had collected in my journey, and which I could depend upon as authentic, of honour--gratitude--fidelity--filial, fraternal, and conjugal affection--and of the finest sensibility, on the part of those, who had been brought into our colonies from Africa, in the character of slaves, and then I proceeded for a while in the following words:-- "If, then, we oppress the stranger, as I have shown, and if, by a knowledge of his heart, we find that he is a person of the same passions and feelings as ourselves, we are certainly breaking, by means of the prosecution of the Slave-trade, that fundamental principle of Christianity, which says, that we shall not do that unto another, which we wish should not be done unto ourselves, and, I fear, cutting ourselves off from all expectation of the Divine blessing. For how inconsistent is our conduct! We come into the temple of God; we fall prostrate before him; we pray to him, that he will have mercy upon us. But how shall he have mercy upon us, who have had no mercy upon others! We pray to him, again, that he will deliver us from evil. But how shall he deliver us from evil, who are daily invading the right of the injured African, and heaping misery on his head!" I attempted, lastly, to show, that, though the sin of the Slave-trade had been hitherto a sin of ignorance, and might therefore have so far been winked at, yet as the crimes and miseries belonging to it became known, it would attach even to those who had no concern in it, if they suffered it to continue either without notice or reproach, or if they did not exert themselves in a reasonable manner for its suppression. I noticed particularly, the case of Tyre and Sidon, which were the Bristol and the Liverpool of those times. A direct judgment had been pronounced by the prophet Joel against these cities, and, what is remarkable, for the prosecution of this same barbarous traffic. Thus, "And what have ye to do with me O Tyre and Sidon, and all the coasts of Palestine? Ye have cast lots for my people. Ye have sold a girl for wine. The children of Judah, and the children of Jerusalem have ye sold unto the Grecians, that ye might remove them far from their own border. Behold! I will raise them out of the place whither ye have sold them, and will recompense your wickedness on your own heads." Such was the language of the prophet; and Tyre and Sidon fell, as he had pointed out, when the inhabitants were either cut off, or carried into slavery. Having thrown out these ideas to the notice of the audience, I concluded in the following words:-- "If, then, we wish to avert the heavy national judgment which is hanging over our heads (for must we not believe that our crimes towards the innocent Africans lie recorded against us in heaven) let us endeavour to assert their cause. Let us nobly withstand the torrent of the evil, however inveterately it may be fixed among the customs of the times; not, however, using our liberty as a cloak of maliciousness against those, who perhaps without due consideration, have the misfortune to be concerned in it, but upon proper motives, and in a proper spirit, as the servants of God; so that if the sun should be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, and the very heaven should fall upon us, we may fall in the general convulsion without dismay, conscious that we have done our duty in endeavouring to succour the distressed, and that the stain of the blood of Africa is not upon us." From Manchester I proceeded to Keddleston in Derbyshire, to spend a day with Lord Scarsdale, and to show him my little collection of African productions, and to inform him of my progress since I last saw him. Here a letter was forwarded to me from the reverend John Toogood, of Keinton Magna in Dorsetshire, though I was then unknown to him. He informed me that he had addressed several letters to the inhabitants of his own county, through their provincial paper, on the subject of the Slave-trade, which letters had produced a considerable effect. It appeared, however, that, when he began them, he did not know of the formation of our commitee, or that he had a single coadjutor in the cause. From Keddleston I turned off to Birmingham, being desirous of visiting Bristol in my way to London, to see if any thing new had occurred since I was there. I was introduced by letter, at Birmingham, to Sampson and Charles Lloyd, the brothers of John Lloyd, belonging to our commitee, and members of the religious society of the Quakers. I was highly gratified in finding that these, in conjunction with Mr. Russell, had been attempting to awaken the attention of the inhabitants to this great subject, and that in consequence of their laudable efforts, a spirit was beginning to show itself there, as at Manchester, in favour of the abolition of the Slave-trade. The kind manner in which these received me, and the deep interest which they appeared to take in our cause, led me to an esteem for them, which, by means of subsequent visits, grew into a solid friendship. At length I arrived at Bristol at about ten o'clock on Friday morning. But what was my surprise, when almost the first thing I heard from my friend Harry Gandy was, that a letter had been dispatched to me to Liverpool, nearly a week ago, requesting me immediately to repair to this place; for that in consequence of notice from the Lords of the Admiralty, advertised in the public papers, the trial of the chief mate, whom I had occasioned to be taken up at Bristol, for the murder of William Lines, was coming on at the Old Bailey, and that not an evidence was to be found. This intelligence almost paralysed me. I cannot describe my feelings on receiving it. I reproached myself with my own obstinacy for having resisted the advice of Mr. Burges, as has been before explained. All his words now came fresh into my mind. I was terrified, too, with the apprehension that my own reputation was now at stake. I foresaw all the calumnies which would be spread, if the evidences were not forthcoming on this occasion. I anticipated, also, the injury which the cause itself might sustain, if, at our outset, as it were, I should not be able to substantiate what I had publicly advanced; and yet the mayor of Bristol had heard and determined the case,--he had not only examined, but re-examined, the evidences,--he had not only committed, but re-committed, the accused: this was the only consolation I had. I was sensible, however, amidst all these workings of my mind, that not a moment was to be lost, and I began, therefore, to set on foot an inquiry as to the absent persons. On waiting upon the mother of William Lines, I learnt from her, that two out of four of the witnesses had been bribed by the slave-merchants, and sent to sea, that they might not be forthcoming at the time of the trial; that the two others had been tempted also, but that they had been enabled to resist the temptation; that, desirous of giving their testimony in this cause, they had gone into some coal-mine between Neath and Swansea, where they might support themselves till they should be called for; and that she had addressed a letter to them, at the request of Mr. Gandy, above a week ago, in which she had desired them to come to Bristol immediately, but that she had received no answer from them. She then concluded, either that her letter had miscarried, or that they had left the place. I determined to lose no time, after the receipt of this intelligence; and I prevailed upon a young man, whom my friend Harry Gandy had recommended to me, to set off directly, and to go in search of them. He was to travel all night, and to bring them, or, if weary himself with his journey, to send them up, without ever sleeping on the road. It was now between twelve and one in the afternoon. I saw him depart. In the interim I went to Thompson's, and other places, to inquire if any other of the seamen, belonging to the Thomas, were to be found; but, though I hunted diligently till four o'clock, I could learn nothing satisfactory. I then went to dinner, but I grew uneasy. I was fearful that my messenger might be at a loss, or that he might want assistance on some occasion or other. I now judged that it would have been more prudent if two persons had been sent, who might have conferred with each other, and who might have divided, when they had reached Neath, and gone to different mines, to inquire for the witnesses. These thoughts disturbed me. Those, also, which had occurred when I first heard of the vexatious way in which things were situated, renewed themselves painfully to my mind. My own obstinacy in resisting the advice of Mr. Burges, and the fear of injury to my own reputation, and to that of the cause I had undertaken, were again before my eyes. I became still more uneasy; and I had no way of relieving my feelings, but by resolving to follow the young man, and to give him all the aid in my power. It was now near six o'clock. The night was cold and rainy, and almost dark. I got down, however, safe to the passage-house, and desired to be conveyed across the Severn. The people in the house tried to dissuade me from my design. They said no one would accompany me, for it was quite a tempest. I replied, that I would pay those handsomely who would go with me. A person present asked me if I would give him three guineas for a boat, I replied I would. He could not for shame retract. He went out, and in about half an hour brought a person with him. We were obliged to have a lanthorn as far as the boat. We got on board, and went off. But such a passage I had never before witnessed. The wind was furious. The waves ran high. I could see nothing but white foam. The boat, also, was tossed up and down in such a manner that it was with great difficulty I could keep my seat. The rain, too, poured down in such torrents, that we were all of us presently wet through. We had been, I apprehend, more than an hour in this situation, when the boatmen began to complain of cold and weariness. I saw, also, that they began to be uneasy, for they did not know where they were. They had no way of forming any judgment about their course, but by knowing the point from whence the wind blew, and by keeping the boat in a relative position towards it. I encouraged them as well as I could, though I was beginning to be uneasy myself, and also sick. In about a quarter of an hour they began to complain again. They said they could pull no longer. They acknowledged, however, that they were getting nearer to the shore, though on what part of it, they could not tell. I could do nothing but bid them hope. They then began to reproach themselves for having come out with me. I told them I had not forced them, but that it was a matter of their own choice. In the midst of this conversation I informed them that I thought I saw either a star or a light straight forward. They both looked at it, and pronounced it to be a light, and added with great joy that it must be a light in the Passage-house: and so we found it; for in about ten minutes afterwards we landed, and, on reaching the house, learnt that a servant maid had been accidentally talking to some other person on the stair-case, near a window, with a candle in her hand, and that the light had appeared to us from that circumstance. It was now near eleven o'clock. My messenger, it appeared, had arrived safe at about five in the evening, and had proceeded on his route. I was very cold on my arrival, and sick also. There seemed to be a chilliness all over me, both within and without. Indeed I had not a dry thread about me. I took some hot brandy and water, and went to bed; but desired, as soon as my clothes were thoroughly dried, to be called up, that I might go forward. This happened at about two in the morning, when I got up. I took my breakfast by the fire side. I then desired the post-boy, if he should meet any persons on the road, to stop, and inform me, as I did not know whether the witnesses might not be coming up by themselves, and whether they might not have passed my messenger without knowing his errand. Having taken these precautions, I departed. I travelled on, but we met no one. I traced, however, my messenger through Newport, Cardiff, and Cowbridge. I was assured, also, that he had not passed me on his return; nor had any of those passed me, whom he was seeking. At length, when I was within about two miles of Neath, I met him. He had both the witnesses under his care. This was a matter of great joy to me. I determined to return with them. It was now nearly two in the afternoon. I accordingly went back, but we did not reach the Passage-house again till nearly two the next morning. During our journey, neither the wind nor the rain had much abated. It was quite dark on our arrival. We found only one person, and he had been sitting up in expectation of us. It was in vain that I asked him for a boat to put us across the water. He said all the boatmen were in bed; and, if they were up, he was sure that none of them would venture out. It was thought a mercy by all of them, that we were not lost last night. Difficulties were also started about horses to take us another way. Unable therefore to proceed, we took refreshment and went to bed. We arrived at Bristol between nine and ten the next morning; but I was so ill, that I could go no further; I had been cold and shivering ever since my first passage across the Severn, and I had now a violent sore throat, and a fever with it. All I could do was to see the witnesses off for London, and to assign them to the care of an attorney, who should conduct them to the trial. For this purpose I gave them a letter to a friend of the name of Langdale. I saw them depart. The mother of William Lines accompanied them. By a letter received on Tuesday, I learnt that they had not arrived in town till Monday morning at three o'clock; that at about nine or ten they found out the office of Mr. Langdale; that, on inquiring for him, they heard he was in the country, but that he would be home at noon; that, finding he had not then arrived, they acquainted his clerk with the nature of their business, and opened my letter to show him the contents of it; that the clerk went with them to consult some other person on the subject, when he conveyed them to the Old Bailey; but that, on inquiring at the proper place about the introduction of the witnesses, he learnt that the chief mate had been brought to the bar in the morning, and, no person then appearing against him, that he had been discharged by proclamation. Such was the end of all my anxiety and labour in this affair. I was very ill when I received the letter; but I saw the necessity of bearing up against the disappointment, and I endeavoured to discharge the subject from my mind with the following wish, that the narrow escape which the chief mate had experienced, and which was entirely owing to the accidental circumstances now explained, might have the effect, under Providence, of producing in him a deep contrition for his offence, and of awakening him to a serious attention to his future life[A]. [Footnote A: He had undoubtedly a narrow escape, for Mr. Langdale's clerk had learnt that he had no evidence to produce in his favour. The slave-merchants, it seems, had counted most upon bribing those, who were to come against him, to disappear.] I was obliged to remain in Bristol a few days longer in consequence of my illness; but as soon as I was able I reached London, when I attended a sitting of the commitee after an absence of more than five months. At this commitee it was strongly recommended to me to publish a second edition of my Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, and to insert such of the facts in it, in their proper places, out of those collected in my late travels, as I might judge to be productive of an interesting effect. There appeared also an earnest desire in the commitee, that, directly after this, I should begin my Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave-trade. In compliance with their wishes, I determined upon both these works. But I resolved to retire into the country, that, by being subject to less interruption there, I might the sooner finish them. It was proper, however, that I should settle many things in London, before I took my departure from it; and, among these, that I should find out George Ormond and Patric Murray, whom I had sent from Liverpool on account of the information they had given me relative to the murder of Peter Green. I saw no better way than to take them before Sir Sampson Wright, who was then at the head of the police of the metropolis. He examined, and cross-examined them several times, and apart from each other. He then desired their evidence to be drawn up in the form of depositions, copies of which he gave to me. He had no doubt that the murder would be proved. The circumstances of the deceased being in good health at nine o'clock in the evening, and of his severe sufferings till eleven, and of the nature of the wounds discovered to have been made on his person, and of his death by one in the morning, could never, he said, be done away, by any evidence, who should state that he had been subject to other disorders, which might have occasioned his decease. He found himself therefore compelled to apply to the magistrates of Liverpool, for the apprehension of three of the principal officers of the ship. But the answer was, that the ship had sailed, and that they, whose names had been specified, were then, none of them, to be found in Liverpool. It was now for me to consider, whether I would keep the two witnesses, Ormond and Murray, for a year, or perhaps longer, at my own expense, and run the hazard of the death of the officers in the interim, and of other calculable events. I had felt so deeply for the usage of the seamen in this cruel traffic, which indeed had embittered all my journey, that I had no less than nine prosecutions at law upon my hands on their account, and nineteen witnesses detained at my own cost. The commitee in London could give me no assistance in these cases. They were the managers of the public purse for the abolition of the Slave-trade, and any expenses of this kind were neither within the limits of their object, nor within the pale of their duty. From the individuals belonging to it, I picked up a few guineas by way of private subscription, and this was all. But a vast load still remained upon me, and such as had occasioned uneasiness to my mind. I thought it therefore imprudent to detain the evidences for this purpose for so long a time, and I sent them back to Liverpool. I commenced, however, a prosecution against the captain at common law for his barbarous usage of them, and desired that it might be pushed on as vigorously as possible; and the result was, that his attorney was so alarmed, particularly after knowing what had been done by Sir Sampson Wright, that he entered into a compromise to pay all the expenses of the suit hitherto incurred, and to give Ormond and Murray a sum of money as damages for the injury which they themselves had sustained. This compromise was acceded to. The men received the money, and signed the release, (of which I insisted upon a copy,) and went to sea again in another trade, thanking me for my interference in their behalf. But by this copy, which I have now in my possession, it appears that care was taken by the captain's attorney to render their future evidence in the case of Peter Green, almost impracticable; for it was there wickedly stated, "that George Ormond and Patric Murray did then and there bind themselves in certain penalties, that they would neither encourage nor support any action at law against the said captain, by or at the suit or prosecution of any other of the seamen now or late on board the said ship, and that they released the said captain also from all manner of actions, suits, and cause and causes of action, informations, prosecutions, and other proceedings, which they then had, or ever had, or could or might have by reason of the said assaults upon their own persons, or _other wrongs or injuries done by the said captain heretofore and to the date of this release_[A]." [Footnote A: None of the nine actions before mentioned ever came to a trial, but they were all compromised by paying sums to the injured parties.] CHAPTER XX. _Labours of the commitee during the author's journey--Quakers the first to notice its institution--General Baptists the next--Correspondence opened with American societies for Abolition--First individual who addressed the commitee was Mr. William Smith--Thanks voted to Ramsay--commitee prepares lists of persons to whom to send its publications--Barclay, Taylor, and Wedgwood elected members of the commitee--Letters from Brissot, and others--Granville Sharp elected chairman--Seal ordered to be engraved --Letters from different correspondents as they offered their services to the commitee._ The commitee, during my absence, had attended regularly at their posts. They had been both vigilant and industrious. They were, in short, the persons, who had been the means of raising the public spirit, which I had observed first at Manchester, and afterwards as I journeyed on. It will be proper, therefore, that I should now say something of their labours, and of the fruits of them. And if, in doing this, I should be more minute for a few pages than some would wish, I must apologize for myself by saying that there are others, who would be sorry to lose the knowledge of the particular manner in which the foundation was laid, and the superstructure advanced, of a work, which will make so brilliant an appearance in our history as that of the abolition of the Slave-trade. The commitee having dispersed five hundred circular letters, giving an account of their institution, in London and its neighbourhood, the Quakers were the first to notice it. This they did in their yearly epistle, of which the following is an extract:--"We have also thankfully to believe there is a growing attention in many, not of our religious Society, to the subject of Negro-slavery; and that the minds of the people are more and more enlarged to consider it as an aggregate of every species of evil, and to see the utter inconsistency of upholding it by the authority of any nation whatever, especially of such as punish, with loss of life, crimes whose magnitude bears scarce any proportion to this complicated iniquity." The General Baptists were the next; for on the twenty-second of June, Stephen Lowdell and Dan Taylor attended as a deputation from the annual meeting of that religious body, to inform the commitee, that those, whom they represented, approved their proceedings, and that they would countenance the object of their institution. The first individual, who addressed the commitee, was Mr. William Smith, the present member for Norwich. In his letter he expressed the pleasure he had received in finding persons associated in the support of a cause, in which he himself had taken a deep interest. He gave them advice as to their future plans. He promised them all the cooperation in his power: and he exhorted them not to despair, even if their first attempt should be unsuccessful; "for consolation," says he, "will not be wanting. You may rest satisfied that the attempt will be productive of some good; that the fervent wishes of the righteous will be on your side, and that the blessing of those who are ready to perish will fall upon you." And as Mr. Smith was the first person to address the commitee as an individual after its formation, so, next to Mr. Wilberforce and the members of it, he gave the most time and attention to the promotion of the cause. On the fifth of July, the commitee opened a correspondence, by means of William Dillwyn, with the societies of Philadelphia and New York, of whose institution an account has been given. At this sitting a due sense was signified of the services of Mr. Ramsay, and a desire of his friendly communications when convenient. The two next meetings were principally occupied in making out lists of the names of persons in the country, to whom the commitee should send their publications for distribution. For this purpose every member was to bring in an account of those whom he knew personally, and whom he believed not only to be willing, but qualified on account of their judgment and the weight of their character, to take an useful part in the work, which was to be assigned to them. It is a remarkable circumstance, that, when the lists were arranged, the commitee, few as they were, found they had friends in no less then thirty-nine counties[A], in each of which there were several, so that a knowledge of their institution could now be soon diffusively spread. [Footnote A: The Quakers by means of their discipline have a greater personal knowledge of each other, than the members of any other religious society. But two-thirds of the commitee were Quakers, and hence the circumstance is explained. Hence also nine-tenths of our first coadjutors were Quakers.] The commitee, having now fixed upon their correspondents, ordered five hundred of the circular letters, which have been before mentioned, and five thousand of the Summary Views, an account of which has been given also, to be printed. On account of the increase of business, which was expected in consequence of the circulation of the preceding publications, Robert Barclay, John Vickris Taylor, and Josiah Wedgwood esquire, were added to the commitee; and it was then resolved, that any three members might call a meeting when necessary. On the twenty-seventh of August, the new correspondents began to make their appearance. This sitting was distinguished by the receipt of letters from two celebrated persons. The first was from Brissot, dated Paris, August the eighteenth, who, it may be recollected, was an active member of the National Convention of France, and who suffered in the persecution of Robespiere. The second was from Mr. John Wesley, whose useful labours as a minister of the gospel are so well known to our countrymen. Brissot, in this letter, congratulated the members of the commitee, on having come together for so laudable an object. He offered his own assistance towards the promotion of it. He desired also that his valuable friend Claviere (who suffered also under Robespiere) might be joined to him, and that both might be acknowledged by the commitee as associates in what he called this heavenly work. He purposed to translate and circulate through France, such publications as they might send him from time to time, and to appoint bankers in Paris, who might receive subscriptions and remit them to London for the good of their common cause. In the mean time, if his own countrymen should be found to take an interest in this great cause, it was not improbable that a commitee might be formed in Paris, to endeavour to secure the attainment of the same object from the government in France. The thanks of the commitee were voted to Brissot for this disinterested offer of his services, and he was elected an honorary and corresponding member. In reply, however, to his letter it was stated, that, as the commitee had no doubt of procuring from the generosity of their own nation sufficient funds for effecting the object of their institution, they declined the acceptance of any pecuniary aid from the people of France, but recommended him to attempt the formation of a commitee in his own country, and to inform them of his progress, and to make to them such other communications as he might deem necessary upon the subject from time to time. Mr. Wesley, whose letter was read next, informed the commitee of the great satisfaction which he also had experienced, when he heard of their formation. He conceived that their design, while it would destroy the Slave-trade, would also strike at the root of the shocking abomination of slavery also. He desired to forewarn them that they must expect difficulties and great opposition from those who were interested in the system; that these were a powerful body; and that they would raise all their forces, when they perceived their craft to be in danger. They would employ hireling writers, who would have neither justice nor mercy. But the commitee were not to be dismayed by such treatment, nor even if some of those, who professed good-will towards them, should turn against them. As for himself, he would do all he could to promote the object of their institution. He would reprint a new and large edition of his Thought on Slavery, and circulate, it among his friends in England and Ireland, to whom he would add a few words in favour of their design. And then he concluded in these words: "I commend you to Him, who is able to carry you through all opposition, and support you under all discouragements." On the fourth, eleventh, and eighteenth of September, the commitee were employed variously. Among other things they voted their thanks to Mr. Leigh, a clergyman of the established church, for the offer of his services for the county of Norfolk. They ordered also one thousand of the circular letters to be additionally printed. At one of these meetings a resolution was made, that Granville Sharp, esquire, be appointed chairman. This appointment, though now first formally made in the minute book, was always understood to have taken place; but the modesty of Mr. Sharp was such, that, though repeatedly pressed, he would never consent to take the chair, and he generally refrained from coming into the room till after he knew it to be taken. Nor could he be prevailed upon, even after this resolution, to alter his conduct: for though he continued to sign the papers, which were handed to him by virtue of holding this office, he never was once seated as the chairman during the twenty years in which he attended at these meetings. I thought it not improper to mention this trait in his character. Conscious that he engaged in the cause of his fellow-creatures solely upon the sense of his duty as a Christian, he seems to have supposed either that he had done nothing extraordinary to merit such a distinction, or to have been fearful lest the acceptance of it should bring a stain upon the motive, on which alone he undertook it. [Illustration] On the second and sixteenth of October two sittings took place; at the latter of which a sub-commitee, which had been appointed for the purpose, brought in a design for a seal. An African was seen, (as in the figure[A],) in chains in a supplicating posture, kneeling with one knee upon the ground, and with both his hands lifted up to Heaven, and round the seal was observed the following motto, as if he was uttering the words himself--"Am I not a Man and a Brother?" The design having been approved of, a seal was ordered to be engraved from it. I may mention here, that this seal, simple as the design was, was made to contribute largely, as will be shown in its proper place, towards turning the attention of our countrymen to the case of the injured Africans, and of procuring a warm interest in their favour. [Footnote A: The figure is rather larger than that in the seal.] On the thirtieth of October several letters were read; one of these was from Brissot and Claviere conjointly. In this they acknowledged the satisfaction they had received on being considered as associates in the humane work of the abolition of the Slave-trade, and correspondents in France for the promotion of it. They declared it to be their intention to attempt the establishment of a commitee there on the same principles as that in England: but, in consequence of the different constitutions of the two governments, they gave the commitee reason to suppose that their proceedings must be different, as well as slower than those in England, for the same object. A second letter was read from Mr. John Wesley. He said that he had now read the publications, which the commitee had sent him, and that he took, if possible, a still deeper interest in their cause. He exhorted them to more than ordinary diligence and perseverance; to be prepared for opposition; to be cautious about the manner of procuring information and evidence, that no stain might fall upon their character; and to take care that the question should be argued as well upon the consideration of interest as of humanity and justice, the former of which he feared would have more weight than the latter; and he recommended them and their glorious concern, as before, to the protection of Him who was able to support them. Letters were read from Dr. Price, approving the institution of the commitee; from Charles Lloyd of Birmingham, stating the interest which the inhabitants of that town were taking in it; and from William Russell, esquire, of the same place, stating the same circumstance, and that he would cooperate with the former in calling a public meeting, and in doing whatever else was necessary for the promotion of so good a cause. A letter was read also from Manchester, signed conjointly by George Barton, Thomas Cooper, John Ferriar, Thomas Walker, Thomas Phillips, Thomas Butterworth Bayley, and George Lloyd, esquires, promising their assistance for that place. Two others were read from John Kerrich, esquire, of Harleston, and from Joshua Grigby, esquire, of Drinkston, each tendering their services, one for the county of Norfolk, and the other for the county of Suffolk. The latter concluded by saying, "With respect to myself, in no possible instance of my public conduct can I receive so much sincere satisfaction, as I shall by the vote I will most assuredly give in parliament, in support of this most worthy effort to suppress a traffic, which is contrary to all the feelings of humanity, and the laws of our religion." A letter was read also at this sitting from major Cartwright, of Marnham, in which he offered his own services, in conjunction with those of the reverend John Charlesworth, of Ossington, for the county of Nottingham. "I congratulate you," says he in this letter, "on the happy prospect of some considerable step at least being taken towards the abolition of a traffic, which is not only impious in itself, but of all others tends most to vitiate the human mind. "Although procrastination is generally pernicious in cases depending upon the feelings of the heart, I should almost fear that, without very uncommon exertions, you will scarcely be prepared early in the next sessions for bringing the business into parliament with the greatest advantage. But be that as it may, let the best use be made of the intermediate time; and then, if there be a superintending Providence, which governs every thing in the moral world, there is every reason to hope for a blessing on this particular work." The last letter was from Robert Boucher Nickolls, dean of Middleham in Yorkshire. In this he stated that he was a native of the West Indies, and had travelled on the continent of America. He then offered some important information to the commitee, as his mite towards the abolition of the Slave-trade, and as an encouragement to them to persevere. He attempted to prove that the natural increase of the Negros already in the West Indian Islands would be fully adequate to the cultivation of them without any fresh supplies from Africa, and that such natural increase would be secured by humane treatment. With this view he instanced the two estates of Mr. Mac Mahon and of Dr. Mapp in the island of Barbadoes. The first required continual supplies of new slaves, in consequence of the severe and cruel usage adopted upon it. The latter overflowed with labourers in consequence of a system of kindness, so that it almost peopled another estate. Having related these instances, he cited others in North America, where, though the climate was less favourable to the constitution of the Africans, but their treatment better, they increased also. He combated, from his own personal knowledge, the argument that, self-interest was always sufficient to ensure good usage, and maintained that there was only one way of securing it, which was the entire abolition of the Slave-trade. He showed in what manner the latter measure would operate to the desired end. He then dilated on the injustice and inconsistency of this trade, and supported the policy of the abolition of it, both to the planter, the merchant, and the nation. This letter of the Dean of Middleham, which was a little Essay, of itself, was deemed of so much importance by the commitee, but particularly as it was the result of local knowledge, that they not only passed a resolution of thanks to him for it, but desired his permission to print it. The commitee sat again on the thirteenth and twenty-second of November. At the first of these sittings, a letter was read from Henry Grimston, esquire, of Whitwell Hall, near York, offering his services for the promotion of the cause in his own county. At the second, the Dean of Middleham's answer was received. He acquiesced in the request of the commitee; when five thousand of his letters were ordered immediately to be printed. On the twenty-second a letter was read from Mr. James Mackenzie, of the town of Cambridge, desiring to forward the object of the institution there. Two letters were read also, one from the late Mr. Jones, tutor of Trinity College, and the other from Mr. William Frend, fellow of Jesus College. It appeared from these that the gentlemen of the University of Cambridge were beginning to take a lively interest in the abolition of the Slave-trade, among whom Dr. Watson, the bishop of Llandaff, was particularly conspicuous. At this commitee two thousand new Summary Views were ordered to be printed, and the circular letter to be prefixed to each. CHAPTER XXI. _Labours of the commitee continued to February 1788--commitee elect new members--vote thanks to Falconbridge and others--receive letters from Grove and others--circulate numerous publications--make a report--send circular letters to corporate bodies--release Negros unjustly detained--find new correspondents in Archdeacon Paley--the Marquis de la Fayette--Bishop of Cloyne--Bishop of Peterborough--and in many others._ The labours of the commitee, during my absence, were as I have now explained them; but as I was obliged, almost immediately on joining them, to retire into the country to begin my new work, I must give an account of their further services till I joined them again, or till the middle of February 1788. During sittings which were held from the middle of December 1787 to the eighteenth of January 1788, the business of the commitee had so increased, that it was found proper to make an addition to their number. Accordingly James Martin and William Morton Pitt, esquires, members of parliament, and Robert Hunter, and Joseph Snath, esquires, were chosen members of it. The knowledge also of the institution of the society had spread to such an extent, and the eagerness among individuals to see the publications of the commitee had been so great, that the press was kept almost constantly going during the time now mentioned. No fewer than three thousand lists of the subscribers, with a circular letter prefixed to them, explaining the object of the institution, were ordered to be printed within this period, to which are to be added fifteen hundred of Benezet's Account of Guinea, three thousand of the Dean of Middleham's Letters, five thousand Summary Views, and two thousand of a new edition of the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, which I had enlarged before the last of these sittings from materials collected in my late tour. The thanks of the commitee were voted during this period to Mr. Alexander Falconbridge, for the assistance he had given me in my inquiries into the nature of the Slave-trade. As Mr. Falconbridge had but lately returned from Africa, and as facts and circumstances, which had taken place but a little time ago, were less liable to objections (inasmuch as they proved the present state of things) than those which had happened in earlier times, he was prevailed upon to write an account of what he had seen during the four voyages he had made to that continent; and accordingly, within the period which has been mentioned, he began his work. The commitee, during these sittings, kept up a correspondence with those gentlemen who were mentioned in the last chapter to have addressed them. But, besides these, they found other voluntary correspondents in the following persons, Capel Lofft, esquire, of Troston, and the reverend R. Brome of Ipswich, both in the county of Suffolk. These made an earnest tender of their services for those parts of the county in which they resided. Similar offers were made by Mr. Hammond of Stanton, near St. Ives, in the county of Huntingdon, by Thomas Parker, esquire, of Beverley, and by William Grove, esquire, of Litchfield, for their respective towns and neighbourhoods. A letter was received also within this period from the society established at Philadelphia, accompanied with documents in proof of the good effects of the manumission of slaves, and with specimens of writing and drawing by the same. In this letter the society congratulated the commitee in London on its formation, and professed its readiness to cooperate in any way in which it could be made useful. During these sittings, a letter was also read from Dr. Bathurst, now bishop of Norwich, dated Oxford, December the seventeenth, in which he offered his services in the promotion of the cause. Another was read, which stated that Dr. Horne, president of Magdalen College in the same university, and afterwards bishop of the same see as the former, highly favoured it. Another was read from Mr. Lambert, fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, in which he signified to the commitee the great desire he had to promote the object of their institution. He had drawn up a number of queries relative to the state of the unhappy slaves in the islands, which he had transmitted to a friend, who had resided in them, to answer. These answers he purposed to forward to the commitee on their arrival. Another was read from Dr. Hinchliffe, bishop of Peterborough, in which he testified his hearty approbation of the institution, and of the design of it, and his determination to support the object of it in parliament. He gave in at the same time a plan, which he called Thoughts on the Means of Abolishing the Slave-trade in Great Britain and in our West Indian Islands, for the consideration of the commitee. At the last of these sittings, the commitee thought it right to make a report to the public relative to the state and progress of their cause; but as this was composed from materials, which the reader has now in his possession, it may not be necessary to produce it. On the twenty-second and twenty-ninth of January, and on the fifth and twelfth of February, 1788, sittings were also held. During these, the business still increasing, John Maitland, esquire, was elected a member of the commitee. As the correspondents of the commitee were now numerous, and as these solicited publications for the use of those who applied to them, as well as of those to whom they wished to give a knowledge of the subject, the press was kept in constant employ during this period also. Five thousand two hundred and fifty additional Reports were ordered to be printed, and also three thousand of Falconbridge's Account of the Slave-trade, the manuscript of which was now finished. At this time, Mr. Newton, rector of St. Mary Woolnoth in London, who had been in his youth to the coast of Africa, but who had now become a serious and useful divine, felt it his duty to write his Thoughts on the African Slave-trade. The commitee, having obtained permission, printed three thousand copies of these also. During these sittings, the chairman was requested to have frequent communication with Dr. Porteus, bishop of London, as he had expressed his desire of becoming useful to the institution. A circular letter also, with the report before mentioned, was ordered to be sent to the mayors of several corporate towns. A case also occurred, which it may not be improper to notice. The treasurer reported that he had been informed by the chairman, that the captain of the Albion merchant ship, trading to the Bay of Honduras, had picked up at sea from a Spanish ship, which had been wrecked, two black men, one named Henry Martin Burrowes, a free native of Antigua, who had served in the royal navy, and the other named Antonio Berrat, a Spanish Negro; that the said captain detained these men on board his ship, then lying in the river Thames, against their will; and that he would not give them up. Upon this report, it was resolved that the cause of these unfortunate captives should be espoused by the commitee. Mr. Sharp accordingly caused a writ of habeas-corpus to be served upon them; soon after which he had the satisfaction of reporting, that they had been delivered from the place of their confinement. During these sittings the following letters were read also: One from Richard How, of Apsley, offering his services to the commitee. Another from the reverend Christopher Wyvill, of Burton Hall in Yorkshire, to the same effect. Another from Archdeacon Plymley, (now Corbett,) in which he expressed the deep interest he took in this cause of humanity and freedom, and the desire he had of making himself useful as far as he could towards the support of it; and he wished to know, as the clergy of the diocese of Litchfield and Coventry were anxious to espouse it also, whether a petition to parliament from them, as a part of the established church, would not be desirable at the present season. Another from Archdeacon Paley, containing his sentiments on a plan for the abolition of the Slave-trade, and the manumission of slaves in our islands, and offering his future services, and wishing success to the undertaking. Another from Dr. Sharp, prebendary of Durham, inquiring into the probable amount of the subscriptions which might be wanted, and for what purposes, with a view of serving the cause. Another from Dr. Woodward, bishop of Cloyne, in which he approved of the institution of the commitee. He conceived the Slave-trade to be no less disgraceful to the legislature and injurious to the true commercial interests of the country, than it was productive of unmerited misery to die unhappy objects of it, and repugnant both to the principles and the spirit of the Christian religion. He wished to be placed among the asserters of the liberty of his fellow-creatures, and he was therefore desirous of subscribing largely, as well as of doing all he could, both in England and Ireland, for the promotion of such a charitable work. A communication was made, soon after the reading of the last letter, through the medium of the Chevalier de Ternant, from the celebrated Marquis de la Fayette of France. The marquis signified the singular pleasure he had received on hearing of the formation of a commitee in England for the abolition of the Slave-trade, and the earnest desire he had to promote the object of it. With this view, he informed the commitee that he should attempt the formation of a similar society in France. This he conceived to be one of the most effectual measures he could devise for securing the object in question; for he was of opinion, that if the two great nations of France and England were to unite in this humane and Christian work, the other European nations might be induced to follow the example. The commitee, on receiving the two latter communications, resolved, that the chairman should return their thanks to the Bishop of Cloyne, and the Marquis de la Fayette, and the Chevalier de Ternant, and that he should inform them, that they were enrolled among the honorary and corresponding members of the Society. The other letters read during these sittings were to convey information to the commitee, that people in various parts of the kingdom had then felt themselves so deeply interested in behalf of the injured Africans, that they had determined either on public meetings, or had come to resolutions, or had it in contemplation to petition parliament, for the abolition of the Slave-trade. Information was signified to this effect by Thomas Walker, esquire, for Manchester; by John Hoyland, William Hoyles, esquire, and the reverend James Wilkinson, for Sheffield; by William Tuke, and William Burgh esquire, for York; by the reverend Mr. Foster, for Colchester; by Joseph Harford and Edmund Griffith, esquires, for Bristol; by William Bishop, esquire, the mayor, for Maidstone; by the reverend R. Brome and the reverend J. Wright, for Ipswich; by James Clark, esquire, the mayor, for Coventry; by Mr. Jones, of Trinity College, for the University of Cambridge; by Dr. Schomberg, of Magdalen College, for the University of Oxford; by Henry Bullen, esquire, for Bury St. Edmunds; by Archdeacon Travis, for Chester; by Mr. Hammond, for the county of Huntingdon; by John Flint, esquire, (now Corbett,) for the town of Shrewsbury and county of Salop; by the reverend Robert Lucas, for the town and also for the county of Northampton; by Mr. Winchester, for the county of Stafford; by the reverend William Leigh, for the county of Norfolk; by David Barclay, for the county of Hertford; and by Thomas Babington, esquire, for the county of Leicester. CHAPTER XXII. _Further progress to the middle of May--Petitions begin to be sent to parliament--The king orders the privy council to inquire into the Slave-trade--Author called up to town--his interviews with Mr. Pitt--and with Mr. (now Lord) Grenville--Liverpool delegates examined first--these prejudice the council--this prejudice at length counteracted--Labours of the commitee in the interim--Public anxious for the introduction of the question into parliament--Message of Mr. Pitt to the commitee concerning it--Day fixed for the motion--Substance of the debate which followed--discussion of the general question deferred till the next sessions._ By this time the nature of the Slave-trade had, in consequence of the labours of the commitee and of their several correspondents, become generally known throughout the kingdom. It had excited a general attention, and there was among people a general feeling in behalf of the wrongs of Africa. This feeling had also, as may be collected from what has been already mentioned, broken out into language: for not only had the traffic become the general subject of conversation, but public meetings had taken place, in which it had been discussed, and of which the result was, that an application to parliament had been resolved upon in many places concerning it. By the middle of February not fewer than thirty-five petitions had been delivered to the commons, and it was known that others were on their way to the same house. This ferment in the public mind, which had shown itself in the public prints even before the petitions had been resolved upon, had excited the attention of government. To coincide with the wishes of the people on this subject, appeared to those in authority to be a desirable thing. To abolish the trade, replete as it was with misery, was desirable also: but it was so connected with the interest of individuals, and so interwoven with the commerce and revenue of the country, that an hasty abolition of it without a previous inquiry appeared to them to be likely to be productive of as much misery as good. The king, therefore, by an order of council, dated February the eleventh, 1788, directed that a commitee of privy council should sit as a board of trade, "to take into their consideration the present state of the African trade, particularly as far as related to the practice and manner of purchasing or obtaining slaves on the coast of Africa, and the importation and sale thereof, either in the British colonies and settlements, or in the foreign colonies and settlements in America or the West-Indies; and also as far as related to the effects and consequences of the trade both in Africa and in the said colonies and settlements, and to the general commerce of this kingdom; and that they should report to him in council the result of their inquiries, with such observations as they might have to offer thereupon." Of this order of council Mr. Wilberforce, who had attended to this great subject, as far as his health would permit since I left him, had received notice; but he was then too ill himself to take any measures concerning it. He therefore wrote to me, and begged of me to repair to London immediately in order to get such evidence ready, as we might think it eligible to introduce when the council sat. At that time, as appears from the former chapter, I had finished the additions to my Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, and I had now proceeded about half way in that of the Impolicy of it. This summons, however, I obeyed, and returned to town on the fourteenth of February, from which day to the twenty-fourth of May I shall now give the history of our proceedings. My first business in London was to hold a conversation with Mr. Pitt previously to the meeting of the council, and to try to interest him, as the first minister of state, in our favour. For this purpose Mr. Wilberforce had opened the way for me, and an interview took place. We were in free conversation together for a considerable time, during which we went through most of the branches of the subject. Mr. Pitt appeared to me to have but little knowledge of it. He had also his doubts, which he expressed openly, on many points. He was at a loss to conceive how private interest should not always restrain the master of the slave from abusing him. This matter I explained to him as well as I could; and if he was not entirely satisfied with my interpretation of it, he was at lease induced to believe that cruel practices were more probable than he had imagined. A second circumstance, of the truth of which he doubted, was the mortality and usage of seamen in this trade; and a third was the statement, by which so much had been made of the riches of Africa, and of the genius and abilities of her people; for he seemed at a loss to comprehend, if these things were so, how it had happened that they should not have been more generally noticed before. I promised to satisfy him upon these points, and an interview was fixed for this purpose the next day. At the time appointed I went with my books, papers, and African productions. Mr. Pitt examined the former himself. He turned over leaf after leaf, in which the copies of the muster-rolls were contained, with great patience; and when he had looked over above a hundred pages accurately, and found the name of every seaman inserted, his former abode or service, the time of his entry, and what had become of him, either by death, discharge or desertion, he expressed his surprise at the great pains which had been taken in this branch of the inquiry, and confessed, with some emotion, that his doubts were wholly removed with respect to the destructive nature of this employ; and he said, moreover, that the facts contained in these documents, if they had been but fairly copied, could never be disproved. He was equally astonished at the various woods and other productions of Africa, but most of all at the manufactures of the natives in cotton, leather, gold, and iron, which were laid before him. These he handled and examined over and over again. Many sublime thoughts seemed to rush in upon him at once at the sight of these, some of which he expressed with observations becoming a great and a dignified mind. He thanked me for the light I had given him on many of the branches of this great question. And I went away under a certain conviction that I had left him much impressed in our favour. My next visit was to Mr. (now Lord) Grenville. I called upon him at the request of Mr. Wilberforce, who had previously written to him from Bath, as be had promised to attend the meetings of the privy council during the examinations which were to take place. I found in the course of our conversation that Mr. Grenville had not then more knowledge of the subject than Mr. Pitt; but I found him differently circumstanced in other respects, for I perceived in him a warm feeling in behalf of the injured Africans, and that he had no doubt of the possibility of all the barbarities which had been alleged against this traffic. I showed him all my papers and some of my natural productions, which he examined. I was with him the next day, and once again afterwards, so that the subject was considered in all its parts. The effect of this interview with him was of course different from that upon the minister. In the former case I had removed doubts, and given birth to an interest in favour of our cause. But I had here only increased an interest which had already been excited. I had only enlarged the mass of feeling, or added zeal to zeal, or confirmed resolutions and reasonings. Disposed in this manner originally himself, and strengthened by the documents with which I had furnished him, Mr. Grenville contracted an enmity to the Slave-trade, which was never afterwards diminished[A]. [Footnote A: I have not mentioned the difference between these two eminent persons, with a view of drawing any invidious comparisons, but because, as these statements are true, such persons as have a high opinion of the late Mr. Pitt's judgment, may see that this great man did not espouse the cause hastily, or merely as a matter of feeling, but upon the conviction of his own mind.] A report having gone abroad, that the commitee of privy council would only examine those who were interested in the continuance of the trade, I found it necessary to call upon Mr. Pitt again, and to inform him of it, when I received an assurance that every person, whom I chose to send to the council in behalf of the commitee, should be heard. This gave rise to a conversation relative to those witnesses whom we had to produce on the side of the abolition. And here I was obliged to disclose our weakness in this respect. I owned with sorrow that, though I had obtained specimens and official documents in abundance to prove many important points, yet I had found it difficult to prevail upon persons to be publicly examined on this subject. The only persons, we could then count upon, were Mr. Ramsay, Mr. H. Gandy, Mr. Falconbridge, Mr. Newton, and the Dean of Middleham. There was one, however, who would be a host of himself, if we could but gain him. I then mentioned Mr. Norris. I told Mr. Pitt the nature[A] and value of the testimony which he had given me at Liverpool, and the great zeal he had discovered to serve the cause. I doubted, however, if he would come to London for this purpose, even if I wrote to him; for he was intimate with almost all the owners of slave-vessels in Liverpool, and living among these he would not like to incur their resentment, by taking a prominent part against them. I therefore entreated Mr. Pitt to send him a summons of council to attend, hoping that Mr. Norris would then be pleased to come up, as he would be enabled to reply to his friends, that his appearance had not been voluntary. Mr. Pitt, however, informed me, that a summons from a commitee of privy council sitting as a board of trade was not binding upon the subject, and therefore that I had no other means left but of writing to him, and he desired me to do this by the first post. [Footnote A: See his evidence Chap. xvii.] This letter I accordingly wrote, and sent it to my friend William Rathbone, who was to deliver it in person, and to use his own influence at the same time; but I received for answer, that Mr. Norris was then in London. Upon this I tried to find him out, to entreat him to consent to an examination before the council. At length I found his address; but before I could see him, I was told by the Bishop of London, that he had come up as a Liverpool delegate in support of the Slave-trade. Astonished at this information, I made the bishop acquainted with the case, and asked him how it became me to act; for I was fearful lest, by exposing Mr. Norris, I should violate the rights of hospitality on the one hand, and by not exposing him, that I should not do my duty to the cause I had undertaken on the other. His advice was, that I should see him, and ask him to explain the reasons of his conduct. I called upon him for this purpose, but he was out. He sent me, however, a letter soon afterwards, which was full of flattery, and in which, after having paid high compliments to the general force of my arguments, and the general justice and humanity of my sentiments on this great question, which had made a deep impression upon his mind, he had found occasion to differ from me, since we had last parted, on particular points, and that he had therefore less reluctantly yielded to the call of becoming a delegate,--though notwithstanding he would gladly have declined the office if he could have done it with propriety. At length the council began their examinations. Mr. Norris, Lieutenant Matthews, of the navy, who had just left a slave-employ in Africa, and Mr. James Penny, formerly a slave-captain, and then interested as a merchant in the trade, (which three were the delegates from Liverpool) took possession of the ground first. Mr. Miles, Mr. Weuves, and others, followed them on the same side. The evidence which they gave, as previously concerted between themselves, may be shortly represented thus: They denied that kidnapping either did or could take place in Africa, or that wars were made there, for the purpose of procuring slaves. Having done away these wicked practices from their system, they maintained positions which were less exceptionable, or that the natives of Africa generally became slaves in consequence of having been made prisoners in just wars, or in consequence of their various crimes. They then gave a melancholy picture of the despotism and barbarity of some of the African princes, among whom the custom of sacrificing their own subjects prevailed. But, of all others, that which was afforded by Mr. Morris on this ground was the most frightful. The king of Dahomey, he said, sported with the lives of his people in the most wanton manner. He had seen at the gates of his palace, two piles of heads like those of shot in an arsenal. Within the palace the heads of persons newly put to death were strewed at the distance of a few yards in the passage which led to his apartment. This custom of human sacrifice by the king of Dahomey was not on one occasion only, but on many; such as on the reception of messengers from neighbouring states, or of white merchants, or on days of ceremonial. But the great carnage was once a year, when the poll tax was paid by his subjects. A thousand persons at least were sacrificed annually on these different occasions. The great men, too, of the country cut off a few heads on festival-days. From all these particulars the humanity of the Slave-trade was inferred, because it took away the inhabitants of Africa into lands where no such barbarities were known. But the humanity of it was insisted upon by positive circumstances also, namely, that a great number of the slaves were prisoners of war, and that in former times all such were put to death, whereas now they were saved; so that there was a great accession of happiness to Africa since the introduction of the Trade. These statements, and those of others on the same side of the question, had a great effect, as may easily be conceived, upon the feelings of those of the council who were present. Some of them began immediately to be prejudiced against us. There were others who even thought that it was almost unnecessary to proceed in the inquiry, for that the Trade was actually a blessing. They had little doubt that all our assertions concerning it would be found false. The Bishop of London himself was so impressed by these unexpected accounts, that he asked me if Falconbridge, whose pamphlet had been previously sent by the commitee to every member of the council, was worthy of belief, and if he would substantiate publicly what he had thus written. But these impressions unfortunately were not confined to those who had been present at the examinations. These could not help communicating them to others. Hence in all the higher circles (some of which I sometimes used to frequent) I had the mortification to hear of nothing but the Liverpool evidence, and of our own credulity, and of the impositions which had been practised upon us: of these reports the planters and merchants did not fail to avail themselves. They boasted that they would soon do away all the idle tales which had been invented against them. They desired the public only to suspend their judgment till the privy council report should be out, when they would see the folly and wickedness of all our allegations. A little more evidence, and all would be over. On the twenty-second of March, though the commitee of council had not then held its sittings more than a month, and these only twice or thrice a week, the following paragraph was seen in a morning paper:--"The report of the commitee of privy council will be ready in a few days. After due examination it appears that the major part of the complaints against this Trade are ill-founded. Some regulations, however, are expected to take place, which may serve in a certain degree to appease the cause of humanity." But while they who were interested had produced this outcry against us, in consequence of what had fallen from their own witnesses in the course of their examinations, they had increased it considerably by the industrious circulation of a most artful pamphlet among persons of rank and fortune at the West end of the metropolis, which was called, Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave-trade. This they had procured to be written by R. Harris, who was then clerk in a slave-house in Liverpool, but had been formerly a clergyman and a Jesuit. As they had maintained in the first instance, as has been already shown, the humanity of the traffic, so, by means of this pamphlet they asserted its consistency with revealed religion. That such a book should have made converts in such an age is surprising; and yet many, who ought to have known better, were carried away by it; and we had now absolutely to contend, and almost to degrade ourselves by doing so, against the double argument of the humanity and the holiness of the trade. By these means, but particularly by the former, the current of opinion in particular circles ran against us for the first month, and so strong, that it was impossible for me to stem it at once: but as some of the council recovered from their panic, and their good sense became less biassed by their feelings, and they were in a state to hear reason, their prejudices began to subside. It began now to be understood among them, that almost all the witnesses were concerned in the continuance of the Trade. It began to be known also, (for Mr. Pitt and the Bishop of London took care that it should be circulated,) that Mr. Morris had but a short time before furnished me at Liverpool with, information, all of which he had concealed[A] from the council, but all of which made for the abolition of it. Mr. Devaynes also, a respectable member of parliament, who had been in Africa, and who had been appealed to by Mr. Norris, when examined before the privy council, in behalf of his extraordinary facts, was unable, when summoned, to confirm them to the desired extent. From this evidence the council collected, that human sacrifices were not made on the arrival of White traders, as had been asserted; that there was no poll-tax in Dahomey at all; and that Mr. Norris must have been mistaken on these points, for he must have been there at the time of the ceremony of watering the graves, when about sixty persons suffered. This latter custom moreover appeared to have been a religious superstition of the country, such as at Otaheite, or in Britain in the time of the Druids, and to have had nothing to do with the Slave-trade[B]. With respect to prisoners of war, Mr. Devaynes allowed that the old, the lame, and the wounded, were often put to death on the spot; but this was to save the trouble of bringing them away. The young and the healthy were driven off for sale; but if they were not sold when offered, they were not killed, but reserved for another market, or became house-slaves to the conquerors, Mr. Devaynes also maintained, contrary to the allegations of the others, that a great number of persons were kidnapped in order to be sold to the ships, and that the government, where this happened, was not strong enough to prevent it. But besides these draw-backs from the weight of the testimony which had been given, it began to be perceived by some of the lords of the council, that the cruel superstitions which, had been described, obtained only in one or two countries in Africa, and these of insignificant extent; whereas at the time, when their minds were carried away as it were by their feelings, they had supposed them to attach to the whole of that vast continent. They perceived also, that there were circumstances related in the evidence by the delegates themselves, by means of which, if they were true, the inhumanity of the trade might be established, and this to their own disgrace. They had all confessed that such slaves as the White traders refused to buy were put to death; and yet that these, traders, knowing that this would be the case, had the barbarity uniformly to reject those whom it did not suit them to purchase. Mr. Matthews had rejected one of this description himself, whom he saw afterwards destroyed. Mr. Penny had known the refuse thrown down Melimba rock. Mr. Norris himself, when certain prisoners of war were offered to him for sale, declined buying them because they appeared unhealthy; and though the king then told him that he would put them to death, he could not be prevailed upon to take them, but left them to their hard fate; and he had the boldness to state afterwards, that it was his belief that many of them actually suffered. [Footnote A: This was also the case with another witness, Mr. Weaves. He had given me accounts, before any stir was made about the Slave-trade, relative to it, all of which he kept back when he was examined there.] [Footnote B: Being a religious custom, it would still have gone on, though the Stave-trade had been abolished: nor could the merchants at any time have bought off a single victim.] These considerations had the effect of diminishing the prejudices of some of the council on this great question: and when this was perceived to be the case, it was the opinion of Mr. Pitt, Mr. Grenville, and the Bishop of London, that we should send three or four of our own evidences for examination, who might help to restore matters to an equilibrium. Accordingly Mr. Falconbridge, and some others, all of whom were to speak to the African part of the subject, were introduced. These produced a certain weight in the opposite scale. But soon after these had been examined, Dr. Andrew Spaarman, professor of physic, and inspector of the museum of the royal academy at Stockholm, and his companion, C.B. Wadstrom, chief director of the assay-office there, arrived in England. These gentlemen had been lately sent to Africa by the late king of Sweden, to make discoveries in botany, mineralogy, and other departments of science. For this purpose the Swedish ambassador at Paris had procured them permission from the French government to visit the countries bordering on the Senegal, and had ensured them protection there. They had been conveyed to the place of their destination, where they had remained from August 1787 to the end of January 1788; but meeting with obstacles which they had not foreseen, they had left it, and had returned to Havre de Grace, from whence they had just arrived in London, in their way home. It so happened, that by means of George Harrison, one of our commitee, I fell in unexpectedly with these gentlemen. I had not long been with them before I perceived the great treasure I had found. They gave me many beautiful specimens of African produce. They showed me their journals, which they had regularly kept from day to day. In these I had the pleasure of seeing a number of circumstances minuted down, all relating to the Slave-trade, and even drawings on the same subject. I obtained a more accurate and satisfactory knowledge of the manners and customs of the Africans from these, than from all the persons put together whom I had yet seen. I was anxious, therefore, to take them before the commitee of council, to which they were pleased to consent; and as Dr. Spaarman was to leave London in a few days, I procured him an introduction first. His evidence went to show, that the natives of Africa lived in a fruitful and luxuriant country, which supplied all their wants, and that they would be a happy people if it were not for the existence of the Slave-trade. He instanced wars which he knew to have been made by the Moors upon the Negros (for they were entered upon wholly at the instigation of the White traders) for the purpose of getting slaves, and he had the pain of seeing the unhappy captives brought in on such occasions, and some of them in a wounded state. Among them were many women and children, and the women were in great affliction. He saw also the king of Barbesin send out his parties on expeditions of a similar kind, and he saw them return with slaves. The king had been made intoxicated on purpose, by the French agents, or he would never have consented to the measure. He stated also, that in consequence of the temptations held out by slave-vessels coming upon the coast, the natives seized one another in the night, when they found opportunity; and even invited others to their houses, whom they treacherously detained, and sold at these times; so that every enormity was practised in Africa, in consequence of the existence of the Trade. These specific instances made a proper impression upon the lords of the council in their turn: for Dr. Spaarman was a man of high character; he possessed the confidence of his sovereign; he had no interest whatever in giving his evidence on this subject, either on one or the other side; his means of information too had been large; he had also recorded the facts which had come before him, and he had his journal, written in the French language, to produce. The tide therefore, which had run so strongly against us, began now to turn a little in our favour. While these examinations were going on, petitions continued to be sent to the house of commons, from various parts of the kingdom. No less than one hundred and three were presented in this session, The city of London, though she was drawn the other way by the cries of commercial interest, made a sacrifice to humanity and justice. The two Universities applauded her conduct by their own example. Large manufacturing towns and whole counties expressed their sentiments and wishes in a similar manner. The Established Church in separate dioceses, and the Quakers and other Dissenters, as separate religious bodies, joined in one voice upon this occasion. The commitee in the interim were not unmindful of the great work they had undertaken, and they continued to forward it in its different departments. They kept up a communication by letter with most of the worthy persons who have been mentioned to have written to them, but particularly with Brissot and Claviere, from whom they had the satisfaction of learning, that a society had at length been established at Paris for the Abolition of the Slave-Trade in France. The learned Marquis de Condorcet had become the president of it. The virtuous Duc de la Rochefoucauld, and the Marquis de la Fayette, had sanctioned it by enrolling their names as the two first members. Petion, who was placed afterwards among the mayors of Paris, followed. Women also were not thought unworthy of being honorary and assistant members of this humane institution; and among these were found the amiable Marchioness of la Fayette, Madame de Poivre, widow of the late intendant of the Isle of France, and Madame Necker, wife of the first minister of state. The new correspondents, who voluntarily offered their services to the commitee during the first part of the period now under consideration, were, S. Whitcomb, esq., of Gloucester; the reverend D. Watson, of Middleton Tyas, Yorkshire; John Murlin, esq., of High Wycomb; Charles Collins, esq., of Swansea; Henry Tudor, esq., of Sheffield; the reverend John Hare, of Lincoln; Samuel Tooker, esq., of Moorgate, near Rotherham; the reverend G. Walker, and Francis Wakefield, esq., of Nottingham; the reverend Mr. Hepworth, of Burton-upon-Trent; the reverend H. Dannett, of St. John's, Liverpool; the reverend Dr. Oglander, of New College, Oxford; the reverend H. Coulthurst, of Sidney College, Cambridge; R. Selfe, esq., of Cirencester; Morris Birkbeck, of Hanford, Dorsetshire; William Jepson, of Lancaster; B. Kaye, of Leeds; John Patison, esq., of Paisley; J.E. Dolben, esq., of Northamptonshire; the reverend Mr. Smith, of Wendover; John Wilkinson, esquire, of Woodford; Samuel Milford, esquire, of Exeter; Peter Lunel, esquire, treasurer of the commitee at Bristol; James Pemberton, of Philadelphia; and the President of the Society at New York. The letters from new correspondents during the latter part of this period were the following: One from Alexander Alison, esquire, of Edinburgh, in which he expressed it to be his duty to attempt to awaken the inhabitants of Scotland to a knowledge of the monstrous evil of the Slave-trade, and to form a commitee there to act in union with that of London, in carrying the great object of their institution into effect. Another from Elhanan Winchester, offering the commitee one hundred of his sermons, which he had preached against the Slave-trade, in Fairfax county in Virginia, so early as in the year 1774. Another from Dr. Frossard, of Lyons, in which he offered his services for the South of France, and desired different publications to be sent him, that he might be better qualified to take a part in the promotion of the cause. Another from professor Bruns, of Helmstadt in Germany, in which he desired to know the particulars relative to the institution of the commitee, as many thousands upon the continent were then beginning to feel for the sufferings of the oppressed African race. Another from the reverend James Manning, of Exeter, in which he stated himself to be authorised by the dissenting ministers of Devon and Cornwall, to express their high approbation of the conduct of the commitee, and to offer their services in the promotion of this great work of humanity and religion. Another from William Senhouse, esquire, of the island of Barbadoes. In this he gave the particulars of two estates, one of them his own and the other belonging to a nobleman, upon each of which the slaves, in consequence of humane treatment, had increased by natural population only. Another effect of this humane treatment had been, that these slaves were among the most orderly and tractable in that island. From these and other instances he argued, that if the planters would, all of them, take proper care of their slaves, their humanity would be repaid in a few years by a valuable increase in their property, and they would never want supplies from a traffic, which had been so justly condemned. Two others, the one from Travers Hartley, and the other from Alexander Jaffray, esquires, both of Dublin, were read. These gentlemen sent certain resolutions, which had been agreed upon by the chamber of commerce and by the guild of merchants there relative to the abolition of the Slave-trade. They rejoiced in the name of those, whom they represented, that Ireland had been unspotted by a traffic, which they held in such deep abhorrence, and promised, if it should be abolished in England, to take the most active measures to prevent it from finding an asylum in the ports of that kingdom. The letters of William Senhouse, and of Travers Hartley, and of Alexander Jaffray, esquires, were ordered to be presented to the commitee of privy council and copies of them to be left there. The business of the commitee having almost daily increased within this period, Dr. Baker, and Bennet Langton esquire, who were the two first to assist me in my early labours, and who have been mentioned among the forerunners and coadjutors of the cause, were elected members of it. Dr. Kippis also was added to the list. The honorary and corresponding members elected within the same period, were the Dean of Middleham, T.W. Coke esquire, member of parliament, of Holkham in Norfolk, and the reverend William Leigh, who has been before mentioned, of Little Plumstead in the same county. The latter had published several valuable letters in the public papers under the signature of Africanus. These had excited great notice, and done much good. The worthy author had now collected them into a publication, and had offered the profits of it to the commitee. Hence this mark of their respect was conferred upon him. The commitee ordered a new edition of three thousand of the Dean of Middleham's Letters to be printed. Having approved of a manuscript written by James Field Stanfield, a mariner, containing observations upon a voyage which he had lately made to the coast of Africa for slaves, they ordered three thousand of these to be printed also. By this time the subject having been much talked of, and many doubts and difficulties having been thrown in the way of the abolition by persons interested in the continuance of the trade, Mr. Ramsay, who has been often so honourably mentioned, put down upon paper all the objections which were then handed about, and also those answers to each, which he was qualified from his superior knowledge of the subject to suggest. This he did, that the members of the legislature might see the more intricate parts of the question unravelled, and that they might not be imposed upon by the spurious arguments which were then in circulation concerning it. Observing also the poisonous effect which The Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave-trade had produced upon the minds of many, he wrote an answer on scriptural grounds to that pamphlet. These works were sent to the press, and three thousand copies of each of them were ordered to be struck off. The commitee, in their arrangement of the distribution of their books, ordered Newton's Thoughts, and Ramsay's Objections and Answers, to be sent to each member of both houses of parliament. They appointed also three sub-commitees for different purposes: one to draw up such facts and arguments respecting the Slave-trade, with a view of being translated into other languages, as should give foreigners a suitable knowledge of the subject; another to prepare an answer to certain false reports which had been spread relative to the object of their institution, and to procure an insertion of it in the daily papers; and a third to draw up rules for the government of the Society. By the latter end of the month of March, there was an anxious expectation in the public, notwithstanding the privy council had taken up the subject, that some notice should be taken in the lower house of parliament of the numerous petitions which had been presented there. There was the same expectation in many of the members of it themselves. Lord Penrhyn, one of the representatives for Liverpool, and a planter also, had anticipated this notice, by moving for such papers relative to ships employed, goods exported, produce imported, and duties upon the same, as would show the vast value of the trade, which it was in contemplation to abolish. But at this time Mr. Wilberforce was ill, and unable to gratify the expectations which had been thus apparent. The commitee, therefore, who partook of the anxiety of the public, knew not what to do. They saw that two-thirds of the session had already passed. They saw no hope of Mr. Wilberforce's recovery for some time. Rumours too were afloat, that other members, of whose plans they knew nothing, and who might even make emancipation their object, would introduce the business into the house. Thus situated, they waited as patiently as they could till the eighth of April[A], when they resolved to write to Mr. Wilberforce, to explain to him their fears and wishes, and to submit it to his consideration, whether, if he were unable himself, he would appoint some one, in whom he could confide, to make some motion in parliament on the subject. [Footnote A: Brissot attended in person at this commitee in his way to America, which it was then an object with him to visit.] But the public expectation became now daily more visible. The inhabitants of Manchester, many of whom had signed the petition for that place, became impatient, and they appointed Thomas Walker and Thomas Cooper, esquires, as their delegates, to proceed to London to communicate with the commitee on this subject, to assist them, in their deliberations upon it, and to give their attendance while it was under discussion by the legislature. At the time of the arrival of the delegates, who were received as such by the commitee, a letter came from Bath, in which it was stated that Mr. Wilberforce's health was in such a precarious state, that his physicians dared not allow him to read any letter, which related to the subject of the Slave-trade. The commitee were now again at a loss how to act, when they were relieved from this doubtful situation by a message from Mr. Pitt, who desired a conference with their chairman. Mr. Sharp accordingly went, and on his return made the following report: "He had a full opportunity," he said, "of explaining to Mr. Pitt that the desire of the commitee went to the entire abolition of the Slave-trade. Mr. Pitt assured him that his heart was with the commitee as to this object, and that he considered himself pledged to Mr. Wilberforce, that the cause should not sustain any injury from his indisposition; but at the same time observed, that the subject was of great political importance, and it was requisite to proceed in it with temper and prudence. He did not apprehend, as the examinations before the privy council would yet take up some time, that the subject could be fully investigated in the present session of parliament; but said he would consider whether the forms of the house would admit of any measures, that would be obligatory on them to take it up early in the ensuing session." In about a week after this conference, Mr. Morton Pitt was deputed by the minister to write to the commitee, to say that he had found precedents for such a motion as he conceived to be proper, and that he would submit it to the House of Commons in a few days. At the next meeting, which was on the sixth of May, and at which major Cartwright and the Manchester delegates assisted, Mr. Morton Pitt attended as a member of the commitee, and said that the minister had fixed his motion for the ninth. It was then resolved, that deputations should be sent to some of the leading members of parliament, to request their support of the approaching motion. I was included in one of these, and in that which was to wait upon Mr. Fox. We were received by him in a friendly manner. On putting the question to him, which related to the object of our mission, Mr. Fox paused for a little while, as if in the act of deliberation; when he assured us unequivocally, and in language which could not be misunderstood, that he would support the object of the commitee to its fullest extent, being convinced that there was no remedy for the evil, but in the total abolition of the trade. At length, the ninth, or the day fixed upon, arrived, when this important subject was to be mentioned in the House of Commons for the first time[A], with a view to the public discussion of it. It is impossible for me to give within the narrow limits of this work all that was then said upon it; and yet as the debate, which ensued, was the first which took place upon it, I should feel inexcusable if I were not to take some notice of it. [Footnote A: David Hartley made a motion some years before in the same house, as has been shown in a former part of this work, but this was only to establish a proposition, That the Slave-trade was contrary to the Laws of God and the Rights of Man.] Mr. Pitt rose. He said he intended to move a resolution relative to a subject, which was of more importance than any which had ever been agitated in that house. This honour he should not have had, but for a circumstance, which he could not but deeply regret, the severe indisposition of his friend Mr. Wilberforce, in whose hands every measure, which belonged to justice, humanity, and the national interest, was peculiarly well placed. The subject in question was no less than that of the Slave-trade. It was obvious from the great number of petitions, which had been presented concerning it, how much it had engaged the public attention, and consequently how much it deserved the serious notice of that house, and how much it became their duty to take some measure concerning it. But whatever was done on such a subject, every one would agree, ought to be done with the maturest deliberation. Two opinions had prevailed without doors, as appeared from the language of the different petitions. It had been pretty generally thought that the African Slave-trade ought to be abolished. There were others, however, who thought that it only stood in need of regulations. But all had agreed that it ought not to remain as it stood at present. But that measure, which it might be the most proper to take, could only be discovered by a cool, patient, and diligent examination of the subject in all its circumstances, relations, and consequences. This had induced him to form an opinion, that the present was not the proper time for discussing it; for the session was now far advanced, and there was also a want of proper materials for the full information of the house. It would, he thought, be better discussed, when it might produce some useful debate, and when that inquiry, which had been instituted by His Majesty's ministers, (he meant the examination by a commitee of privy council,) should be brought to such a state of maturity, as to make it fit that the result of it should be laid before the house. That inquiry, he trusted, would facilitate their investigation, and enable them the better to proceed to a decision, which should be equally founded on principles of humanity, justice, and sound policy. As there was not a probability of reaching so desirable an end in the present state of the business, he meant to move a resolution to pledge the house to the discussion of the question early in the next session. If by that time his honourable friend should be recovered, which he hoped would be the case, then he (Mr. Wilberforce) would take the lead in it; but should it unfortunately happen otherwise, then he (the Chancellor of the Exchequer) pledged himself to bring forward some proposition concerning it. The house, however, would observe, that he had studiously avoided giving any opinion of his own on this great subject. He thought it wiser to defer this till the time of the discussion should arrive. He concluded with moving, after having read the names of the places from whence the different petitions had come, "That this house will, early in the next session of parliament, proceed to take into consideration the circumstances of the Slave-trade complained of in the said petitions, and what may be fit to be done thereupon." Mr. Fox began by observing, that he had long taken an interest in this great subject, which he had also minutely examined, and that it was his intention to have brought something forward himself in parliament respecting it: but when he heard that Mr. Wilberforce had resolved to take it up, he was unaffectedly rejoiced, not only knowing the purity of his principles and character, but because, from a variety of considerations as to the situations in which different men stood in the house, there was something that made him honestly think it was better that the business should be in the hands of that gentleman, than in his own. Having premised this, he said that, as so many petitions, and these signed by such numbers of persons of the most respectable character, had been presented, he was sorry that it had been found impossible that the subject of them could be taken, up this year, and more particularly as he was not able to see, as the Chancellor of the Exchequer had done, that there were circumstances, which might happen by the next year, which would make it more advisable and advantageous to take it up then, than it would have been to enter upon it in the present session. For certainly there could be no information laid before the house, through the medium of the Lords of the Council, which could not more advantageously have been obtained by themselves, had they instituted a similar inquiry. It was their duty to advise the King, and not to ask his advice. This the constitution had laid down as one of its most essential principles; and though in the present instance he saw no cause for blame, because he was persuaded His Majesty's ministers had not acted with any ill intention, it was still a principle never to be departed from, because it never could be departed from without establishing a precedent which might lead to very serious abuses. He, lamented that the Privy Council, who had received no petitions from the people on the subject, should have instituted an inquiry, and that the House of Commons, the table of which had been loaded with petitions from various parts of the kingdom, should not have instituted any inquiry at all. He hoped these petitions would have a fair discussion in that house, independently, of any information that could be given to it by His Majesty's ministers. He urged again the superior advantages of an inquiry into such a subject, carried on within those walls, over any inquiry carried on by the Lords of the Council. In inquiries carried on in that house, they had the benefit of every circumstance of publicity; which was a most material benefit indeed, and that which of all others made the manner of conducting the parliamentary proceedings of Great Britain the envy and the admiration of the world. An inquiry there was better than an inquiry in any other place, however respectable the persons before and by whom it was carried on. There, all that could be said for the abolition or against it might be said. In that house, every relative fact would have been produced, no information would have been withheld, no circumstance would have been omitted, which was necessary for elucidation; nothing would have been kept back. He was sorry therefore that the consideration of the question, but more particularly where so much human suffering was concerned, should be put off to another session, when it was obvious that no advantage could be gained by the delay. He then adverted to the secrecy, which the Chancellor of the Exchequer had observed relative to his own opinion on this important subject. Why did he refuse to give it? Had Mr. Wilberforce been present, the house would have had a great advantage in this respect, because doubtless he would have stated in what view he saw the subject, and in a general way described the nature of the project he meant to propose. But now they were kept in the dark as to the nature of any plan, till the next session. The Chancellor of the Exchequer had indeed said, that it had been a very general opinion that the African Slave-trade should be abolished. He had said again, that others had not gone so far, but had given, it as their opinion, that it required to be revised and regulated. But why did he not give his own sentiments boldly to the world on this great question? As for himself, he (Mr. Fox) had no scruple to declare at the outset, that the Slave-trade ought not to be regulated, but destroyed. To this opinion his mind was made up; and he was persuaded that, the more the subject was considered, the more his opinion would gain ground; and it would be admitted, that to consider it in any other manner, or on any other principles than those of humanity and justice, would be idle and absurd. If there were any such men, and he did not know but that there were those, who, led away by local and interested considerations, thought the Slave-trade might still continue under certain modifications, these were the dupes of error, and mistook what they thought their interest, for what he would undertake to convince them was their loss. Let such men only hear the case further, and they would find the result to be, that a cold-hearted policy was folly, when it opposed the great principles of humanity and justice. He concluded by saying that he would not oppose the resolution, if other members thought it best to postpone the consideration of the subject; but he should have been better pleased, if it had been discussed sooner; and he certainly reserved to himself the right of voting for any question upon it that should be brought forward by any other member in the course of the present session. The Chancellor of the Exchequer said, that nothing he had heard had satisfied him of the propriety of departing from the rule he had laid down for himself, of not offering, but of studiously avoiding to offer, any opinion upon the subject till the time should arrive when it could be fully argued. He thought that no discussion, which could take place that session, could lead to any useful measure, and therefore he had wished not to argue it till the whole of it could be argued. A day would come, when every member would have an opportunity of stating his opinion; and he wished it might be discussed with a proper spirit on all sides, on fair and liberal principles, and without any shackles from local and interested considerations. With regard to the inquiries instituted before the commitee of privy council, he was sure, as soon as it became obvious that the subject must undergo a discussion, it was the duty of His Majesty's ministers to set those inquiries on foot, which should best enable them to judge in what manner they could meet or offer any proposition respecting the Slave-trade. And although such previous examinations by no means went to deprive that house of its undoubted right to institute those inquiries, or to preclude them, they would be found greatly to facilitate them. But, exclusive of this consideration, it would have been utterly impossible to have come to any discussion of the subject, that could have been brought to a conclusion in the course of the present session. Did the inquiry then before the privy council prove a loss of time? So far from it, that, upon the whole, time had been gained by it. He had moved the resolution, therefore, to pledge the house to bring on the discussion early in the next session, when they would have a full opportunity of considering every part of the subject: first, Whether the whole of the trade ought be abolished; and, if so, how and when. If it should be thought that the trade should only be put under certain regulations, what those regulations ought to be, and when they should take place. These were questions which must be considered; and therefore he had made his resolution as wide as possible, that there might be room for all necessary considerations to be taken in. He repeated his declaration, that he would reserve his sentiments till the day of discussion should arrive; and again declared, that he earnestly wished to avoid an anticipation of the debate upon the subject. But if such debate was likely to take place, he would withdraw his motion, and offer it another day. A few words then passed between Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox in reply to each other; after which Lord Penrhyn rose. He said there were two classes of men, the African merchants, and the planters, both whose characters had been grossly calumniated. These wished that an inquiry might be instituted, and this immediately, conscious that the more their conduct was examined the less they would be found to merit the opprobrium with which they had been loaded. The charges against the Slave-trade were either true or false. If they were true, it ought to be abolished; but if upon inquiry they were found to be without foundation, justice ought to be done to the reputation of those who were concerned in it. He then said a few words, by which he signified, that, after all, it might not be an improper measure to make regulations in the trade. Mr. Burke said, the noble lord, who was a man of honour himself, had reasoned from his own conduct, and, being conscious of his own integrity, was naturally led to imagine that other men were equally just and honourable. Undoubtedly the merchants and planters had a right to call for an investigation of their conduct, and their doing so did them great credit. The Slave-trade also ought equally to be inquired into. Neither did he deny that it was right His Majesty's ministers should inquire into its merits for themselves. They had done their duty; but that house, who had the petitions of the people on their table, had neglected it, by having so long deferred an inquiry of their own. If that house wished to preserve their functions, their understandings, their honour, and their dignity, he advised them to beware of commitees of privy council. If they suffered their business to be done by such means, they were abdicating their trust and character, and making way for an entire abolition of their functions, which they were parting with one after another. Thus, "Star after star goes out, and all is night." If they neglected the petitions of their constituents, they must fall, and the privy council be instituted in their stead. What would be the consequence? His Majesty's ministers, instead of consulting them, and giving them the opportunity of exercising their functions of deliberation and legislation, would modify the measures of government elsewhere, and bring down the edicts of the privy council to them to register. Mr. Burke said, he was one of those who wished for the abolition of the Slave-trade. He thought it ought to be abolished, on principles of humanity and justice. If, however, opposition of interests should render its total abolition impossible, it ought to be regulated, and that immediately. They need not send to the West Indies to know the opinions of the planters on the subject. They were to consider first of all, and abstractedly from all political, personal, and local considerations, that the Slave-trade was directly contrary to the principles of humanity and justice, and to the spirit of the British constitution; and that the state of slavery, which followed it, however mitigated, was a state so improper, so degrading, and so ruinous to the feelings and capacities of human nature, that it ought not to be suffered to exist. He deprecated delay in this business, as well for the sake of the planters as of the slaves. Mr. Gascoyne, the other member for Liverpool, said he had no objection that the discussion should stand over to the next session of parliament, provided it could not come on in the present, because he was persuaded it would ultimately be found that his constituents, who were more immediately concerned in the trade, and who had been so shamefully calumniated, were men of respectable character. He hoped the privy council would print their Report when they had brought their inquiries to a conclusion, and that they would lay it before the house and the public, in order to enable all concerned to form a judgment of what was proper to be done relative to the subject, next session. With respect, however, to the total abolition of the Slave-trade, he must confess that such a measure was both unnecessary, visionary, and impracticable; but he wished some alterations or modifications to be adopted. He hoped that, when the house came to go into the general question, they would not forget the trade, commerce, and navigation, of the country. Mr. Rolle said, he had received instructions from his constituents to inquire if the grievances, which had been alleged to result from the Slave-trade, were well founded, and, if it should appear that they were, to assist in applying a remedy. He was glad the discussion had been put off till next session, as it would give all of them an opportunity of considering the subject with more mature deliberation. Mr. Martin desired to say a few words only. He put the case, that, supposing the slaves were treated ever so humanely, when they were carried to the West Indies, what compensation could be made them for being torn from their nearest relations, and from every thing that was dear to them in life? He hoped no political advantage, no national expediency, would be allowed to weigh in the scale against the eternal rules of moral rectitude. As for himself, he had no hesitation to declare, in this early stage of the business, that he should think himself a wicked wretch if he did not do every thing in his power to put a stop to the Slave-trade. Sir William Dolben said, that he did not then wish to enter into the discussion of the general question of the abolition of the Slave-trade, which the Chancellor of the Exchequer was so desirous of postponing; but he wished to say a few words on what he conceived to be a most crying evil, and which might be immediately remedied, without infringing upon the limits of that question. He did not allude to the sufferings of the poor Africans in their own country, nor afterwards in the West India islands, but to that intermediate state of tenfold misery which they underwent in their transportation. When put on board the ships, the poor unhappy wretches were chained to each other, hand and foot, and stowed so close, that they were not allowed above a foot and a half for each individual in breadth. Thus crammed together like herrings in a barrel, they contracted putrid and fatal disorders; so that they who came to inspect, them in a morning had occasionally to pick dead slaves out of their rows, and to unchain their carcases from the bodies of their wretched fellow-sufferers, to whom they had been fastened. Nor was it merely to the slaves that the baneful effects of the contagion thus created were confined. This contagion affected the ships' crews, and numbers of the seamen employed in the horrid traffic perished. This evil, he said, called aloud for a remedy, and that remedy ought to be applied soon; otherwise no less than ten thousand lives might be lost between this and the next session. He wished therefore this grievance to be taken into consideration, independently of the general question; and that some regulations, such as restraining the captains from taking above a certain number of slaves on board, according to the size of their vessels, and obliging them to let in fresh air, and provide better accommodation for the slaves during their passage, should be adopted. Mr. Young wished the consideration of the whole subject to stand over to the next session. Sir James Johnstone, though a planter, professed himself a friend to the abolition of the Slave-trade. He said it was highly necessary that the house should do something respecting it; but whatever was to be done should be done soon, as delay might be productive of bad consequences in the islands. Mr. L. Smith stood up a zealous advocate for the abolition of the Slave-trade. He said that even Lord Penrhyn and Mr. Gascoyne, the members for Liverpool, had admitted the evil of it to a certain extent; for regulations or modifications, in which they seemed to acquiesce, were unnecessary where abuses did not really exist. Mr. Grigby thought it his duty to declare, that no privy council report, or other mode of examination, could influence him. A traffic in the persons of men was so odious, that it ought everywhere, as soon as ever it was discovered, to be abolished. Mr. Bastard was anxious that the house should proceed to the discussion of the subject in the present session. The whole country, he said, had petitioned; and was it any satisfaction to the country to be told, that the commitee of privy council were inquiring? Who knew any thing of what was doing by the commitee of privy council, or what progress they were making? The inquiry ought to have been instituted in that house, and in the face of the public, that every body concerned might know what was going on. The numerous petitions of the people ought immediately to be attended to. He reprobated delay on this occasion; and as the honourable baronet, Sir William Dolben, had stated facts which were shocking to humanity, he hoped he would move that a commitee might be appointed to inquire into their existence, that a remedy might be applied, if possible, before the sailing of the next ships for Africa. Mr. Whitbread professed himself a strenuous advocate for the total and immediate abolition of the Slave-trade. It was contrary to nature, and to every principle of justice, humanity, and religion. Mr. Pelham stated, that he had very maturely considered the subject of the Slave-trade; and had he not known that the business was in the hands of an honourable member, (whose absence from the house, and the cause of it, no man lamented more sincerely than he did,) he should have ventured to propose something concerning it himself. If it should be thought that the Trade ought not to be entirely done away, the sooner it was regulated the better. He had a plan for this purpose, which appeared to him to be likely to produce some salutary effects. He wished to know if any such thing would be permitted to be proposed in the course of the present session. The Chancellor of the Exchequer said he should be happy, if he thought the circumstances of the house were such as to enable them to proceed to an immediate discussion of the question; but as that did not appear, from the reasons he had before stated, to be the case, he could only assure the honourable gentleman, that the same motives which had induced him to propose an inquiry into the subject early in the next session of parliament, would make him desirous of receiving any other light which could be thrown upon it. The question having been then put, the resolution was agreed to unanimously. Thus ended the first debate that ever took place in the commons, on this important subject. This debate, though many of the persons concerned in it abstained cautiously from entering into the merits of the general question, became interesting, in consequence of circumstances attending it. Several rose up at once to give relief, as it were, to their feelings by utterance; but by so doing they were prevented, many of them, from being heard. They who were heard spoke with peculiar energy, as if warmed in an extraordinary manner by the subject. There was an apparent enthusiasm in behalf of the injured Africans. It was supposed by some, that there was a moment, in which, if the Chancellor of the Exchequer had moved for an immediate abolition of the Trade, he would have carried it that night; and both he and others, who professed an attachment to the cause, were censured for not having taken a due advantage of the disposition which was so apparent. But independently of the inconsistency of doing this on the part of the ministry, while the privy council were in the midst of their inquiries, and of the improbability that the other branches of the legislature would have concurred in so hasty a measure; What good would have accrued to the cause, if the abolition had been then carried? Those concerned in the cruel system would never have rested quietly under the stigma under which they then laboured. They would have urged, that they had been condemned unheard. The merchants would have said, that they had had no notice of such an event, that they might prepare a way for their vessels in other trades. The planters would have said, that they had had no time allowed them to provide such supplies from Africa as might enable them to keep up their respective stocks. They would, both of them, have called aloud for immediate indemnification. They would have decried the policy of the measure of the abolition;--and where had it been proved? They would have demanded a reverse of it; and might they not, in cooler moments, have succeeded? Whereas, by entering into a patient discussion of the merits of the question; by bringing evidence upon it; by reasoning upon that evidence night after night, and year after year, land thus by disputing the ground inch as it were by inch, the Abolition of the Slave-trade stands upon a rock, upon which it never can be shaken. Many of those who were concerned in the cruel system have now given up their prejudices, because they became convinced in the contest. A stigma too has been fixed upon it, which can never be erased: and in a large record, in which the cruelty and injustice of it have been recognised in indelible characters, its impolicy also has been eternally enrolled. CHAPTER XXIII. _Continuation to the middle of July--Anxiety of Sir William Dolben to lessen the horrors of the Middle Passage till the great question should be discussed--brings in a bill for that purpose--debate upon it--Evidence examined against it--its inconsistency and falsehoods--further debate upon it--Bill passed, and carried to the Lords--vexatious delays and opposition there--carried backwards and forwards to both houses--at length finally passed--Proceedings of the commitee in the interim--effects of them.--End of the first volume_. It was supposed, after the debate, of which the substance has been just given, that there would have been no further discussion of the subject till the next year: but Sir William Dolben became more and more affected by those considerations which be had offered to the house on the ninth of May. The trade, he found, was still to go on. The horrors of the transportation, or Middle Passage, as it was called, which he conceived to be the worst in the long catalogue of evils belonging to the system, would of course accompany it. The partial discussion of these, he believed, would be no infringement of the late resolution of the house. He was desirous, therefore, of doing something in the course of the present session, by which the miseries of the trade might be diminished as much as possible, while it lasted, or till the legislature could take up the whole of the question. This desire he mentioned to several of his friends; and as these approved of his design, he made it known on the twenty-first of May in the House of Commons. He began by observing, that he would take up but little of their time. He rose to move for leave to bring in a bill for the relief of those unhappy persons, the natives of Africa, from the hardships to which they were usually exposed in their passage from the coast of Africa to the Colonies. He did not mean, by any regulations he might introduce for this purpose, to countenance or sanction the Slave-trade, which, however modified, would be always wicked and unjustifiable. Nor did he mean, by introducing these, to go into the general question which the house had prohibited. The bill which he had in contemplation, went only to limit the number of persons to be put on board to the tonnage of the vessel which was to carry them, in order to prevent them from being crowded too closely together; to secure to them good and sufficient provisions; and to take cognizance of other matters, which related to their health and accommodation; and this only till parliament could enter into the general merits of the question. This humane interference he thought no member would object to. Indeed, those for Liverpool had both of them admitted, on the ninth of May, that regulations were desirable; and he had since conversed with them, and was happy to learn that they would not oppose him on this occasion. Mr. Whitbread highly approved of the object of the worthy Baronet, which was to diminish the sufferings of an unoffending people. Whatever could be done to relieve them in their hard situation, till parliament could take up the whole of their case, ought to be done by men living in a civilized country, and professing the Christian religion: he therefore begged leave to second the motion, which had been made. General Norton was sorry that he had not risen up sooner. He wished to have seconded this humane motion himself. It had his most cordial approbation. Mr. Burgess complimented the worthy Baronet on the honour he had done himself on this occasion, and congratulated the house on the good, which they were likely to do by acceding, as he was sure they would, to his proposition. Mr. Joliffe rose, and said that the motion in question should have his strenuous support. Mr. Gascoyne stated, that having understood from the honourable Baronet that he meant only to remedy the evils, which were stated to exist in transporting the inhabitants of Africa to the West Indies, he had told him that he would not object to the introduction of such a bill. Should it however interfere with the general question, the discussion of which had been prohibited, he would then oppose it. He must also reserve another case for his opposition; and this would be, if the evils of which it took cognizance should appear not to have been well founded. He had written to his constituents to be made acquainted with this circumstance, and he must be guided by them on the subject. Mr. Martin was surprised how any person could give an opposition to such a bill. Whatever were the merits of the great question, all would allow that, if human beings were to be transported across the ocean, they should be carried over it with as little suffering as possible to themselves. Mr. Hamilton deprecated the subdivision of this great and important question, which the house had reserved for another session. Every endeavour to meddle with one part of it, before the whole of it could be taken into consideration, looked rather as if it came from an enemy than from a friend. He was fearful that such a bill as this would sanction a traffic, which should never be viewed but in a hostile light, or as repugnant to the feelings of our nature, and to the voice of our religion. Lord Frederic Campbell was convinced that the postponing of all consideration of the subject till the next session was a wise measure. He was sure that neither the house nor the public were in a temper sufficiently cool to discuss it property. There was a general warmth of feeling, or an enthusiasm about it, which ran away with the understandings of men, and disqualified them from judging soberly concerning it. He wished, therefore, that the present motion might be deferred. Mr. William Smith said, that if the motion of the honourable Baronet had trespassed upon the great question reserved for consideration, he would have opposed it himself; but he conceived the subject, which it comprehended, might with propriety be separately considered; and if it were likely that a hundred, but much more a thousand, lives would be saved by this bill, it was the duty of that house to adopt it without delay. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, though he meant still to conceal his opinion as to the general merits of the question, could not be silent here. He was of opinion that he could very consistently give this motion his support. There was a possibility (and a bare possibility was a sufficient ground with him) that in consequence of the resolution lately come to by the house, and the temper then manifested in it, those persons who were concerned in the Slave-trade might put the natives of Africa in a worse situation, during their transportation to the colonies, even than they were in before, by cramming additional numbers on board their vessels, in order to convey as many as possible to the West Indies before parliament ultimately decided on the subject. The possibility, therefore, that such a consequence might grow out of their late resolution during the intervening months between the end of the present and the commencement of the next session, was a good and sufficient parliamentary ground for them to provide immediate means to prevent the existence of such an evil. He considered this as an act of indispensable duty, and on that ground the bill should have his support. Soon after this the question was put, and leave was given for the introduction of the bill. An account of these proceedings of the house having been sent to the merchants of Liverpool, they held a meeting, and came to resolutions on the subject. They determined to oppose the bill in every stage in which it should be brought forward, and, what was extraordinary, even the principle of it. Accordingly, between the twenty-first of May and the second of June, on which latter day the bill, having been previously read a second time, was to be committed, petitions from interested persons had been brought against it, and consent had been obtained, that both counsel and evidence should be heard. The order of the day having been read on the second of June for the house to resolve itself into a commitee of the whole house, a discussion took place relative to the manner in which the business was to be conducted. This being over, the counsel began their observations; and, as soon as they had finished, evidence was called to the bar in behalf of the petitions which had been delivered. From the second of June to the seventeenth the house continued to hear the evidence at intervals, but the members for Liverpool took every opportunity of occasioning delay. They had recourse twice to counting out the house; and at another time, though complaint had been made of their attempts to procrastinate, they opposed the resuming of their own evidence with the same view,--and this merely for the frivolous reason, that, though there was then a suitable opportunity, notice had not been previously given. But in this proceeding, other members feeling indignant at their conduct, they were overruled. The witnesses brought by the Liverpool merchants against this humane bill were the same as they had before sent for examination to the privy council, namely, Mr. Norris, Lieutenant Matthews, and others. On the other side of the question it was not deemed expedient to bring any. It was soon perceived that it would be possible to refute the former out of their own mouths, and to do this seemed more eligible than to proceed in the other way. Mr. Pitt, however, took care to send Captain Parrey, of the royal navy, to Liverpool, that he might take the tonnage and internal dimensions of several slave-vessels, which were then there, supposing that these, when known, would enable the house to detect any misrepresentations, which the delegates from that town might be disposed to make upon this subject. It was the object of the witnesses, when examined, to prove two things: first, that regulations were unnecessary, because the present mode of the transportation was sufficiently convenient for the objects of it, and was well adapted to preserve their comfort and their health. They had sufficient room, sufficient air, and sufficient provisions. When upon deck, they made merry and amused themselves with dancing. As to the mortality, or the loss of them by death in the course of their passage, it was trifling. In short, the voyage from Africa to the West Indies "was one of the happiest periods of a Negro's life." Secondly, that if the merchants were hindered from taking less than two full-sized, or three smaller Africans, to a ton, then the restriction would operate not as the regulation but as the utter ruin of the trade. Hence the present bill, under the specious mask of a temporary interference, sought nothing less than its abolition. These assertions having been severally made, by the former of which it was insinuated that the African, unhappy in his own country, found in the middle passage, under the care of the merchants, little less than an Elysian retreat, it was now proper to institute a severe inquiry into the truth of them. Mr. Pitt, Sir Charles Middleton, Mr. William Smith, and Mr. Beaufoy, took a conspicuous part on this occasion, but particularly the two latter, to whom much praise was due for the constant attention they bestowed upon this subject. Question after question was put by these to the witnesses; and from their own mouths they dragged out, by means of a cross-examination as severe as could be well instituted, the following melancholy account: Every slave, whatever his size might be, was found to have only five feet and six inches in length, and sixteen inches in breadth, to lie in. The floor was covered with bodies stowed or packed according to this allowance. But between the floor and the deck or ceiling were often platforms or broad shelves in the mid-way, which were covered with bodies also. The height from the floor to the ceiling, within which space the bodies on the floor and those on the platforms lay, seldom exceeded five feet eight inches, and in some cases it did not exceed four feet. The men were chained two and two together by their hands and feet, and were chained also by means of ring-bolts, which were fastened to the deck. They were confined in this manner at least all the time they remained upon the Coast, which was from six weeks to six months as it might happen. Their allowance consisted of one pint of water a day to each person, and they were fed twice a day with yams and horse-beans. After meals they jumped up in their irons for exercise. This was so necessary for their health, that they were whipped if they refused to do it. And this jumping had been termed dancing. They were usually fifteen and sixteen hours below deck out of the twenty-four. In rainy weather they could not be brought up for two or three days together. If the ship was full, their situation was then distressing. They sometimes drew their breath with anxious and laborious efforts, and some died of suffocation. With respect to their health in these voyages, the mortality, where the African constitution was the strongest, or on the windward coast, was only about five in a hundred. In thirty-five voyages, an account of which was produced, about six in a hundred was the average number lost. But this loss was still greater at Calabàr and Bonny, which were the greatest markets for slaves. This loss, too, did not include those who died, either while the vessels were lying upon the Coast, or after their arrival in the West Indies, of the disorders which they had contracted upon the voyage. Three and four in a hundred had been known to die in this latter case. But besides these facts, which were forced out of the witnesses by means of the cross-examination which took place, they were detected in various falsehoods. They had asserted that the ships in this trade were peculiarly constructed, or differently from others, in order that they might carry a great number of persons with convenience; whereas Captain Parrey asserted that out of the twenty-six, which he had seen, ten only had been built expressly for this employ. They had stated the average height between decks at about five feet and four inches. But Captain Parrey showed, that out of the nine he measured, the height in four of the smallest was only four feet eight inches, and the average height in all of them was but five feet two. They had asserted that vessels under two hundred tons had no platforms. But by his account the four just mentioned were of this tonnage, and yet all of them had platforms either wholly or in part. On other points they were found both to contradict themselves and one another. They had asserted, as before mentioned, that if they were restricted to less than two full-grown slaves to a ton, the trade would be ruined. But in examining into the particulars of nineteen vessels, which they produced themselves, five of them only had cargoes equal to the proportion which they stated to be necessary to the existence of the trade. The other fourteen carried a less number of slaves (and they might have taken more on board if they had pleased): so that the average number in the nineteen was but one man and four-fifths to a ton, or ten in a hundred below their lowest standard[A]. One again said, that no inconvenience arose in consequence of the narrow space allowed to each individual in these voyages. Another said, that smaller vessels were more healthy than larger, because, among other reasons, they had a less proportion of slaves as to number on board. [Footnote A: The falsehood of their statements in this respect was proved again afterwards by facts. For, after the regulation had taken place, they lost fewer slaves and made greater profits.] They were found also guilty of a wilful concealment of such facts, as they knew, if communicated, would have invalidated their own testimony. I was instrumental in detecting them on one of these occasions myself. When Mr. Dalzell was examined, he was not wholly unknown to me. My Liverpool muster-rolls told me that he had lost fifteen seamen out of forty in his last voyage. This was a sufficient ground to go upon; for generally, where the mortality of the seamen has been great, it may be laid down that the mortality of the slaves has been considerable also. I waited patiently till his evidence was nearly closed, but he had then made no unfavourable statements to the house. I desired, therefore, that a question might be put to him, and in such a manner, that he might know that they, who put it, had got a clew to his secrets. He became immediately embarrassed. His voice faltered. He confessed with trembling, that he had lost a third of his sailors in his last voyage. Pressed hard immediately by other questions, he then acknowledged that he had lost one hundred and twenty or a third of his slaves also. But would he say that these were all he had lost in that voyage? No: twelve others had perished by an accident, for they were drowned. But were no others lost besides the one hundred and twenty and the twelve? None, he said, upon the voyage, but between twenty and thirty before he left the Coast. Thus this champion of the merchants, this advocate for the health and happiness of the slaves in the middle passage, lost nearly a hundred and sixty of the unhappy persons committed to his superior care, in a single voyage! The evidence, on which I have now commented, having been delivered, the counsel summed up on the seventeenth of June, when the commitee proceeded to fill up the blanks in the bill. Mr. Pitt moved that the operation of it be retrospective, and that it commence from the tenth instant. This was violently opposed by Lord Penrhyn, Mr. Gascoyne, and Mr. Brickdale, but was at length acceded to. Sir William Dolben then proposed to apportion five men to every three tons in every ship under one hundred and fifty tons burthen, which had the space of five feet between the decks, and three men to two tons in every vessel beyond one hundred and fifty tons burthen, which had equal accommodation in point of height between the decks. This occasioned a very warm dispute, which was not settled for some time, and which gave rise to some beautiful and interesting speeches on the subject. Mr. William Smith pointed out in the clearest manner many of the contradictions, which I have just stated in commenting upon the evidence. Indeed he had been a principal means of detecting them. He proved how little worthy of belief the witnesses had shown themselves, and how necessary they had made the present bill by their own confession. The worthy Baronet, indeed, had been too indulgent to the merchants, in the proportion he had fixed of the number of persons to be carried to the tonnage of their vessels. He then took a feeling view of what would be the wretched state of the poor Africans on board, even if the bill passed as it now stood; and conjured the house, if they would not allow them more room, at least not to infringe upon that, which had been proposed. Lord Belgrave (now Grosvenor) animadverted with great ability upon the cruelties of the trade, which he said had been fully proved at the bar. He took notice of the extraordinary opposition which had been made to the bill then before them, and which he believed every gentleman, who had a proper feeling of humanity, would condemn. If the present mode of carrying on the trade received the countenance of that house, the poor unfortunate African would have occasion doubly to curse his fate. He would not only curse the womb that brought him forth, but the British nation also, whose diabolical avarice had made his cup of misery still more bitter. He hoped that the members for Liverpool would urge no further opposition to the bill, but that they would join with the house in an effort to enlarge the empire of humanity; and that, while they were stretching out the strong arm of justice to punish the degraders of British honour and humanity in the East, they would with equal spirit exert their powers to dispense the blessings of their protection to those unhappy Africans, who were to serve them in the West. Mr. Beaufoy entered minutely into an examination of the information, which had been, given by the witnesses, and which afforded unanswerable arguments for the passing of the bill. He showed the narrow space, which they themselves had been made to allow for the package of a human body, and the ingenious measures they were obliged to resort to for stowing this living cargo within the limits of the ship. He adverted next to the case of Mr. Dalzell; and showed how one dismal fact after another, each making against their own testimony, was extorted from him. He then went to the trifling mortality said to be experienced in these voyages, upon which subject he spoke in the following words: "Though the witnesses are some of them interested in the trade, and all of them parties against the bill, their confession is, that of the Negros of the windward coast, who are men of the strongest constitution which Africa affords, no less on an average than five in each hundred perish in the voyage,--a voyage, it must be remembered, but of six weeks. In a twelvemonth, then, what must be the proportion of the dead? No less than forty-three in a hundred, which is seventeen times the usual rate of mortality; for all the estimates of life suppose no more than a fortieth of the people, or two and a half in the hundred, to die within the space of a year. Such then is the comparison. In the ordinary course of nature the number of persons, (including those in age and infancy, the weakest periods of existence,) who perish in the space of a twelvemonth, is at the rate of but two and a half in a hundred; but in an African voyage, notwithstanding the old are excluded and few infants admitted, so that those who are shipped are in the firmest period of life, the list of deaths presents an annual mortality of forty-three in a hundred. It presents this mortality even in vessels from the windward coast of Africa; but in those which sail to Bonny, Benin, and the Calebars, from whence the greatest proportion of the slaves are brought, this mortality is increased by a variety of causes, (of which the greater length of the voyage is one,) and is said to be twice as large, which supposes that in every hundred the deaths annually amount to no less than eighty-six. Yet even the former comparatively low mortality, of which the counsel speaks with so much satisfaction, as a proof of the kind and compassionate treatment of the slaves, even this indolent and lethargic destruction gives to the march of death seventeen times its usual speed. It is a destruction, which, if general but for ten years, would depopulate the world, blast the purposes of its creation, and extinguish the human race." After having gone with great ability through the other branches of the subject, he concluded in the following manner: "Thus I have considered the various objections which have been stated to the bill, and am ashamed to reflect that it could be necessary to speak so long in defence of such a cause: for what, after all, is asked by the proposed regulations? On the part of the Africans, the whole of their purport is, that they, whom you allow to be robbed of all things but life, may not unnecessarily and wantonly be deprived of life also. To the honour, to the wisdom, to the feelings of the house I now make my appeal, perfectly confident that you will not tolerate, as senators, a traffic, which, as men, you shudder to contemplate, and that you will not take upon yourselves the responsibility of this waste of existence. To the memory of former parliaments the horrors of this traffic will be an eternal reproach; yet former parliaments have not known, as you on the clearest evidence now know, the dreadful nature of this trade. Should you reject this bill, no exertions of yours to rescue from oppression the suffering inhabitants of your Eastern empire; no records of the prosperous state to which, after along and unsuccessful war, you have restored your native land; no proofs, however splendid, that, under your guidance, Great Britain has recovered her rank, and is again the arbitress of nations, will save your names from the stigma of everlasting dishonour. The broad mantle of this one infamy will cover with substantial blackness the radiance of your glory, and change to feelings of abhorrence the present admiration of the world.--But pardon the supposition of so impossible an event. I believe that justice and mercy may be considered as the attributes of your character, and that you will not tarnish their lustre on this occasion." The Chancellor of the Exchequer rose next; and after having made some important observations on the evidence (which took up much time), he declared himself most unequivocally in favour of the motion made by the honourable baronet. He was convinced that the regulation proposed would not tend to the Abolition of the trade; but if it even went so far, he had no hesitation openly and boldly to declare, that if it could not be carried on in a manner different from that stated by the members for Liverpool, he would retract what he had said on a former day against going into the general question; and, waiving every other discussion than what had that day taken place, he would give his vote for the utter annihilation of it at once. It was a trade, which it was shocking to humanity to hear detailed. If it were to be carried on as proposed by the petitioners, it would, besides its own intrinsic baseness, be contrary to every humane and Christian principle, and to every sentiment that ought to inspire the breast of man, and would reflect the greatest dishonour on the British senate and the British nation. He therefore hoped that the house, being now in possession of such information as never hitherto had been brought before them, would in some measure endeavour to extricate themselves from that guilt, and from that remorse, which every one of them ought to feel for having suffered such monstrous cruelties to be practised upon an helpless and unoffending part of the human race. Mr. Martin complimented Mr. Pitt in terms of the warmest panegyric on his noble sentiments, declaring that they reflected the greatest honour upon him both as an Englishman and as a man. Soon after this the house divided upon the motion of Sir William Dolben. Fifty-six appeared to be in favour of it, and only five against it. The latter consisted of the two members for Liverpool and three other interested persons. This was the first division which ever took place on this important subject. The other blanks were then filled up, and the bill was passed without further delay. The next day, or on the eighteenth of June, it was carried up to the House of Lords. The slave-merchants of London, Liverpool, and Bristol, immediately presented petitions against it, as they had done in the lower house. They prayed that counsel might open their case; and though they had been driven from the commons, on account of their evidence, with disgrace, they had the effrontery to ask that they might call witnesses here also. Counsel and evidence having been respectively heard, the bill was ordered to be committed the next day. The Lords attended according to summons. But on a motion by Dr. Warren, the bishop of Bangor, who stated that the Lord Chancellor Thurlow was much indisposed, and that he wished to be present when the question was discussed, the commitee was postponed. It was generally thought that the reason for this postponement, and particularly as it was recommended by a prelate, was, that the Chancellor might have an opportunity of forwarding this humane bill. But it was found to be quite otherwise. It appeared that the motive was, that he might give to it, by his official appearance as the chief servant of the crown in that house, all the opposition in his power. For when the day arrived, which had been appointed for the discussion, and when the Lords Bathurst and Hawkesbury (now Liverpool) had expressed their opinions, which were different, relative to the time when the bill should take place, he rose up, and pronounced a bitter and vehement oration against it. He said, among other things, that it was full of inconsistency and nonsense from the beginning to the end. The French had lately offered large premiums for the encouragement of this trade. They were a politic people, and the presumption was, that we were doing politically wrong by abandoning it. The bill ought not to have been brought forward in this session. The introduction of it was a direct violation of the faith of the other house. It was unjust, when an assurance had been given that the question should not be agitated till next year, that this sudden fit of philanthropy, which was but a few days old, should be allowed to disturb the public mind, and to become the occasion of bringing men to the metropolis with tears in their eyes and horror in their countenances, to deprecate the ruin of their property, which they had embarked on the faith of parliament. The extraordinary part, which the Lord Chancellor Thurlow took upon this occasion, was ascribed at the time by many, who moved in the higher circles, to a shyness or misunderstanding, which had taken place between him and Mr. Pitt on other matters; when, believing this bill to have been a favourite measure with the latter, he determined to oppose it. But, whatever were his motives (and let us hope that he could never have been actuated by so malignant a spirit as that of sacrificing the happiness of forty thousand persons for the next year to spite the gratification of an individual), his opposition had a mischievous effect, on account of the high situation in which he stood. For he not only influenced some of the Lords themselves, but, by taking the cause of the slave-merchants so conspicuously under his wing, he gave them boldness to look up again under the stigma of their iniquitous calling, and courage even to resume vigorous operations after their disgraceful defeat. Hence arose those obstacles, which will be found to have been thrown in the way of the passing of the bill from this period. Among the Lords, who are to be particularly noticed as having taken the same side as the Lord Chancellor in this debate, were the Duke of Chandos and the Earl of Sandwich. The former foresaw nothing but insurrections of the slaves in our islands, and the massacre of their masters there, in consequence of the agitation of this question. The latter expected nothing less than the ruin of our marine. He begged the house to consider how, by doing that which might bring about the Abolition of this traffic, they might lessen the number of British sailors; how, by throwing it into the hands of France, they might increase those of a rival nation; and how, in consequence, the flag of the latter might ride triumphant on the ocean, The Slave-trade was undoubtedly a nursery for our seamen. All objections against it in this respect were ill-founded. It was as healthy as the Newfoundland and many other trades. The debate having closed, during which nothing more was done than filling up the blanks with the time when the bill was to begin to operate, the commitee was adjourned. But the bill after this dragged on so heavily, that it would be tedious to detail the proceedings upon it from day to day. I shall, therefore, satisfy myself with the following observations concerning them. The commitee sat not less than five different times, which consumed the space of eight days, before a final decision took place. During this time, so much was it an object to throw in obstacles which might occupy the little remaining time of the session, that other petitions were presented against the bill, and leave was asked, on new pretences contained in these, that counsel might be heard again. Letters also were read from Jamaica, about the mutinous disposition of the slaves there, in consequence of the stir which had been made about the Abolition, and also from merchants in France, by which large offers were made to the British merchants to furnish them with slaves. Several regulations also were proposed in this interval, some of which were negatived by majorities of only one or two voices. Of the regulations, which were carried, the most remarkable were those proposed by Lord Hawkesbury (now Liverpool); namely, that no insurance should be made on the slaves except against accidents by fire and water; that persons should not be appointed as officers of vessels transporting them, who had not been a certain number of such voyages before; that a regular surgeon only should be capable of being employed in them; and that both the captain and surgeon should have bounties, if in the course of the transportation they had lost only two in a hundred slaves. The Duke of Chandos again, and Lord Sydney, were the most conspicuous among the opposers of this humane bill; and the Duke of Richmond, the Marquis Townshend, the Earl of Carlisle, the Bishop of London, and Earl Stanhope, among the most strenuous supporters of it. At length it passed, by a majority of nineteen to eleven votes. On the fourth of July, when the bill had been returned to the Commons, it was moved that the amendments made in it by the Lords should be read; but as it had become a money-bill in consequence of the bounties to be granted, and as new regulations were to be incorporated in it, it was thought proper that it should be wholly done away. Accordingly Sir William Dolben moved, that the further consideration of it should be put off till that day three months. This having been agreed upon, he then moved for leave to bring in a new bill. This was accordingly introduced, and an additional clause was inserted in it, relative to bounties, by Mr. Pitt. But on the second reading, that no obstacle might be omitted which could legally be thrown in the way of its progress, petitions were presented against it both by the Liverpool merchants and the agent for the island of Jamaica, under the pretence that it was a new bill. Their petitions, however, were rejected, and it was committed, and passed through its regular stages and sent up to the Lords. On its arrival there on the fifth of July, petitions from London and Liverpool still followed it. The prayer of these was against the general tendency of it, but it was solicited also that counsel might be heard in a particular case. The solicitation was complied with; after which the bill was read a second time, and ordered to be committed. On the seventh, when it was taken next into consideration, two other petitions were presented against it. But here so many objections were made to the clauses of it as they then stood; and such new matter suggested, that the Duke of Richmond, who was a strenuous supporter of it, thought it best to move that the commitee, then sitting, should be deferred till that day seven-night, in order to give time for another more perfect to originate in the lower house. This motion having been acceded to, Sir William Dolben introduced a new one for the third time into the Commons. This included the suggestions which had been made in the Lords. It included also a regulation, on the motion of Mr. Sheridan, that no surgeon should be employed as such in the slave-vessels, except he had a testimonial that he had passed a proper examination at Surgeons'-Hall. The amendments were all then agreed to, and the bill was passed through its several stages. On the tenth of July, being now fully amended, it came for a third time before the Lords; but it was no sooner brought forward than it met with the same opposition as it had experienced before. Two new petitions appeared against it, one from a certain class of persons in Liverpool, and another from Miles Peter Andrews, esquire, stating that, if it passed into a law, it would injure the sale of his gunpowder, and that he had rendered great services to the government during the last war by his provision of that article. But here the Lord Chancellor Thurlow reserved himself for an effort, which, by occasioning only a day's delay, would in that particular period of the session have totally prevented the passing of the bill. He suggested certain amendments for consideration and discussion, which, if they had been agreed upon, must have been carried again to the lower house and sanctioned there before the bill could have been complete. But it appeared afterwards, that there would have been no time for the latter proceeding. Earl Stanhope, therefore, pressed this circumstance peculiarly upon the Lords who were present. He observed, that the King was to dismiss the parliament next day, and therefore they must adopt the bill as it stood, or reject it altogether. There was no alternative, and no time was to be lost. Accordingly he moved for an immediate division on the first of the amendments proposed by Lord Thurlow. This having taken place, it was negatived. The other amendments shared the same fate; and thus, at length, passed through the upper house, as through an ordeal as it were of fire, the first bill that ever put fetters upon that barbarous and destructive monster, The Slave-trade. The next day, or on Friday, July the eleventh, the King gave his assent to it, and, as Lord Stanhope had previously asserted in the House of Lords, concluded the session. While the legislature was occupied in the consideration of this bill, the Lords of the Council continued their examinations, that they might collect as much light as possible previously to the general agitation of the question in the next session of parliament. Among others I underwent an examination. I gave my testimony first relative to many of the natural productions of Africa, of which I produced the specimens. These were such as I had collected in the course of my journey to Bristol and Liverpool, and elsewhere. I explained, secondly, the loss and usage of seamen in the Slave-trade. To substantiate certain points, which belonged to this branch of the subject, I left several depositions and articles of agreement for the examination of the council. With respect to others, as it would take a long time to give all the data upon which calculations had been made and the manner of making them, I was desired to draw up a statement of particulars, and to send it to the council at a future time. I left also depositions with them relative to certain instances of the mode of procuring and treating slaves. The commitee also for effecting the abolition of the Slave-trade continued their attention, during this period, towards the promotion of the different objects, which came within the range of the institution. They added the reverend Dr. Coombe, in consequence of the great increase of their business, to the list of their members. They voted thanks to Mr. Hughes, vicar of Ware in Hertfordshire, for his excellent Answer to Harm's Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave-trade, and they enrolled him among their honorary and corresponding members. Also thanks to William Roscoe, esquire, for his Answer to the same. Mr. Roscoe had not affixed his name to this pamphlet any more than to his poem of The Wrongs of Africa. But he made himself known to the commitee as the author of both. Also thanks to William Smith and Henry Beaufoy, esquires, for having so successfully exposed the evidence offered by the slave-merchants against the bill of Sir William Dolben, and for having drawn out of it so many facts, all making for their great object, the abolition of the Slave-trade. As the great question was to be discussed in the approaching sessions, it was moved in the commitee to consider of the propriety of sending persons to Africa and the West Indies, who should obtain information relative to the different branches of the system as they existed in each of these countries, in order that they might be able to give their testimony, from their own experience, before one or both of the houses of parliament, as it might be judged proper. This proposition was discussed at two or three several meetings. It was however finally rejected, and principally on the following grounds: First, It was obvious, that persons sent out upon such an errand would be exposed to such dangers from various causes, that it was not improbable that both they and their testimony might be lost. Secondly, Such persons would be obliged to have recourse to falsehoods, that is, to conceal or misrepresent the objects of their destination, that they might get their intelligence with safety; which falsehoods the commitee could not countenance. To which it was added, that few persons would go to these places, except they were handsomely rewarded for their trouble; but this reward would lessen the value of their evidence, as it would afford a handle to the planters and slave-merchants to say that they had been bribed. Another circumstance, which came before the commitee, was the following: Many arguments were afloat at this time relative to the great impolicy of abolishing the Slave-trade, the principal of which was, that, if the English abandoned it, other foreign nations would take it up; and thus, while they gave up certain national profits themselves, the great cause of humanity would not be benefited, nor would any moral good be done by the measure. Now there was a presumption that, by means of the society instituted in Paris, the French nation might be awakened to this great subject, and that the French government might in consequence, as well as upon other considerations, be induced to favour the general feeling upon this occasion. But there was no reason to conclude, either that any other maritime people, who had been engaged in the Slave-trade, would relinquish it, or that any other, who had not yet been engaged in it, would not begin it when our countrymen should give it up. The consideration of these circumstances occupied the attention of the commitee; and as Dr. Spaarman, who was said to have been examined by the privy council, was returning home, it was thought advisable to consider whether it would not be proper for the commitee to select certain of their own books on the subject of the Slave-trade, and send them by him, accompanied by a letter, to the King of Sweden, in which they should entreat his consideration of this powerful argument which now stood in the way of the cause of humanity, with a view that, as one of the princes of Europe, he might contribute to obviate it, by preventing his own subjects, in case of the dereliction of this commerce by ourselves, from embarking in it. The matter having been fully considered, it was resolved that the proposed measure would be proper, and it was accordingly adopted. By a letter received afterwards from Dr. Spaarman, it appeared that both the letter and the books had been delivered, and received graciously; and that he was authorised to say, that, unfortunately, in consequence of those, hereditary possessions which had devolved upon his majesty, he was obliged to confess that he was the sovereign of an island, which had, been principally peopled by African slaves, but that he had been frequently mindful of their hard case. With respect to the Slave-trade, he never heard of an instance, in which the merchants of his own native realm had embarked in it; and as they had hitherto preserved their character pure in this respect, he would do all he could, that it should not be sullied in the eyes of the generous English nation, by taking up, in the case which had been pointed out to him, such an odious concern. By this time I had finished my Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave-trade, which I composed from materials collected chiefly during my journey to Bristol, Liverpool, and Lancaster. These materials I had admitted with great caution and circumspection; indeed I admitted none, for which I could not bring official and other authentic documents, or living evidences if necessary, whose testimony could not reasonably be denied; and, when I gave them to the world, I did it under the impression that I ought to give them as scrupulously, as if I were to be called upon to substantiate them upon oath. It was of peculiar moment that this book should make its appearance at this time. First, Because it would give the Lords of the Council, who were then sitting, an opportunity of seeing many important facts, and of inquiring into their authenticity; and it might suggest to them also some new points, or such as had not fallen within the limits of the arrangement they had agreed upon for their examinations on this subject; and Secondly, Because, as the members of the House of Commons were to take the question into consideration early in the next sessions, it would give them also new light and information upon it before this period. Accordingly the commitee ordered two thousand copies of it to be struck off, for these and other objects; and though the contents of it were most diligently sifted by the different opponents of the cause, they never even made an attempt to answer it. It continued, on the other hand, during the inquiry of the legislature, to afford the basis or grounds upon which to examine evidences on the political part of the subject; and evidences thus examined continued in their turn to establish it. Among the other books ordered to be printed by the commitee within the period now under our consideration, were a new edition of two thousand of the Dean of Middleham's Letter, and another of three thousand of Falconbridge's Account of the Slave-trade. The commitee continued to keep up, during the same period, a communication with many of their old correspondents, whose names have been already mentioned. But they received also letters from others, who had not hitherto addressed them; namely, from Ellington Wright of Erith, Dr. Franklin of Philadelphia, Eustace Kentish esquire, high sheriff for the county of Huntingdon, Governor Bouchier, the reverend Charles Symmons of Haverfordwest; and from John York and William Downes esquires, high sheriffs for the counties of York and Hereford. A letter also was read in this interval from Mr. Evans, a dissenting clergyman, of Bristol, stating that the elders of several Baptist churches, forming the western Baptist association, who had met at Portsmouth Common, had resolved to recommend it to the ministers and members of the same, to unite with the commitee in the promotion of the great object of their institution. Another from Mr. Andrew Irvin, of the Island of Grenada, in which he confirmed the wretched situation of many of the slaves there, and in which he gave the outlines of a plan for bettering their condition, as well as that of those in the other islands. Another from I.L. Wynne, esquire, of Jamaica. In this he gave an afflicting account of the suffering and unprotected state of the slaves there, which it was high time to rectify. He congratulated the commitee on their institution, which he thought would tend to promote so desirable an end; but desired them not to stop short of the total abolition of the Slave-trade, as no other measure would prove effectual against the evils of which he complained. This trade, he said, was utterly unnecessary, as his own plantation, on which his slaves had increased rapidly by population, and others which he knew to be similarly circumstanced, would abundantly testify. He concluded by promising to give the commitee, such information from time to time as might be useful on this important subject. The session of parliament having closed, the commitee thought it right to make a report to the public, in which they gave an account of the great progress of their cause since the last, of the state in which they then were, and of the unjustifiable conduct of their opponents, who industriously misrepresented their views, but particularly by attributing to them the design of abolishing slavery; and they concluded by exhorting their friends not to relax their endeavours, on account of favourable appearances, but to persevere, as if nothing had been done, under the pleasing hope of an honourable triumph. And now having given the substance of the labours of the commitee from its formation to the present time, I cannot conclude this volume without giving to the worthy members of it that tribute of affectionate and grateful praise, which is due to them for their exertions in having forwarded the great cause which was intrusted to their care. And this I can do with more propriety, because, having been so frequently absent from them when they were engaged in the pursuit of this their duty, I cannot be liable to the suspicion, that in bestowing commendation upon them I am bestowing it upon myself. From about the end of May 1787 to the middle of July 1788 they had held no less than fifty-one commitees. These generally occupied them from about six in the evening till about eleven at night. In the intervals between the commitees they were often occupied, having each of them some object committed to his charge. It is remarkable, too, that though they were all except one engaged in business or trade, and though they had the same calls as other men for innocent recreation, and the same interruptions of their health, there were individuals, who were not absent more than five or six times within this period. In the course of the thirteen months, during which they had exercised this public trust, they had printed, and afterwards distributed, not at random, but judiciously, and through respectable channels, (besides twenty-six thousand five hundred and twenty-six reports, accounts of debates in parliament, and other small papers,) no less than fifty-one thousand four hundred and thirty-two pamphlets, or books. Nor was the effect produced within this short period otherwise than commensurate with the efforts used. In May 1787, the only public notice taken of this great cause was by this commitee of twelve individuals, of whom all were little known to the world except Mr. Granville Sharp. But in July 1788, it had attracted the notice of several distinguished individuals in France and Germany, and in our own country it had come within the notice, of the government, and a branch of it had undergone a parliamentary discussion and restraint. It had arrested also the attention of the nation, and it had produced a kind of holy flame, or enthusiasm, and this to a degree and to an extent never before witnessed. Of the purity of this flame no better proof can be offered, than that even bishops deigned to address an obscure commitee, consisting principally of Quakers, and that churchmen and dissenters forgot their difference of religious opinions, and joined their hands, all over the kingdom, in its support. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME Printed by Richard Taylor and Co. Shoe Lane. 
21060	----	The Congo Rovers A Story of the Slave Squadron By Harry Collingwood ________________________________________________________________________ This book by Collingwood is a good story, but as your reviewer has said elsewhere, told in a rather long-winded manner, and in the notably Kingston style and format that Collingwood often adopts. Why not? Kingston was dead before Collingwood started to write, and the style had been proved to be what young readers of the era liked. The format specifically is that the book starts with a young boy who is suddenly offered a posting as a midshipman in a naval vessel about to sail in a few days' time. The boy accepts, and the story goes on from there. ________________________________________________________________________ THE CONGO ROVERS A STORY OF THE SLAVE SQUADRON BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD A Story of the Slave Squadron. CHAPTER ONE. MY FIRST APPEARANCE IN UNIFORM. "Um!" ejaculated my father as he thoughtfully removed his double eye- glass from his nose with one hand, and with the other passed a letter to me across the breakfast-table--"Um! this letter will interest you, Dick. It is from Captain Vernon." My heart leapt with sudden excitement, and my hand trembled as I stretched it out for the proffered epistle. The mention of Captain Vernon's name, together with the announcement that the subject-matter of the letter was of interest to me, prepared me in a great measure for the intelligence it conveyed; which was to the effect that the writer, having been appointed to the command of the sloop-of-war _Daphne_, now found himself in a position to fulfil a promise of some standing to his dear and honoured friend Dr Hawkesley (my father) by receiving his son (myself) on board the sloop, with the rating of midshipman. The sloop, the letter went on to say, was commissioned for service on the west coast of Africa; and if I decided to join her no time should be lost in procuring my outfit, as the _Daphne_ was under orders to sail on the --; just four days from the date of the receipt of the letter. "Well, Dick, what do you think of Captain Vernon's proposal?" inquired my father somewhat sadly, as I concluded my perusal of the letter and raised my eyes to his. "Oh, father!" I exclaimed eagerly, "I _hope_ you will consent to let me go. Perhaps I may never have another such an opportunity; and I am _quite sure_ I shall never care to be anything but a sailor." "Ah! yes--the old, old story," murmured my father, shaking his head dubiously. "Thousands of lads have told their fathers exactly the same thing, and have lived to bitterly regret their choice of a profession. Look at my life. I have to run about in all weathers; to take my meals when and how I can; there is not a single hour in the twenty-four that I can call my own; it is a rare thing for me to get a night of undisturbed rest; it is a hard, anxious, harassing life that I lead--you have often said so yourself, and urged it as one of the reasons why you object to follow in my footsteps. But I tell you, Dick, that my life--ay, or the life even of the poorest country practitioner, for that matter--is one of ease and luxury compared with that of a sailor. But I have said all this to you over and over again, without convincing you; and I hardly dare hope that I shall be more successful now; so, if you are really quite resolved to go to sea, I will offer no further objections. It is true that you will be going to an unhealthy climate; but God is just as well able to preserve you there as He is here; and then, again, you have a strong healthy constitution, which, fortified with such preservative medicines as I can supply, will, I hope, enable you to withstand the malaria and to return to us in safety. Now, what do you say--are you still resolved to go?" "Quite," I replied emphatically. "Now that you have given your consent the last obstacle is removed, and I can follow with a light heart the bent of my own inclinations." "Very well, then," said my father, rising from the table and pushing back his chair. "That question being settled, we had better call upon Mr Shears forthwith and give the order for your uniform and outfit. There is no time to lose; and since go you _will_, I would very much rather you went with Vernon than with anyone else." The above conversation took place, as already stated, in the breakfast- room of my father's house. My father was at that time--as he continued to be until the day of his death--the leading physician in Portsmouth; and his house--a substantial four-storey building--stood near the top of the High Street. The establishment of Mr Shears, "Army and Navy Tailor, Clothier, and Outfitter," was situated near the bottom of the same street. A walk, therefore, of some ten minutes' duration took us to our destination; and at the end of a further half-hour's anxious consultation I had been measured for my uniform--one suit of which was faithfully promised for the next day--had chosen my sea-chest, and had selected a complete outfit of such clothing as was to be obtained ready- made. This important business concluded, my father departed upon his daily round of visits, and I had the remainder of the day at my own disposal. My first act on emerging from the door of Mr Shears' establishment was to hasten off to the dockyard at top speed to take another look at the _Daphne_. I had often seen the craft before; had taken an interest in her, indeed, I may say, from the moment that her keel was laid--she was built in Portsmouth dockyard--and had watched her progress to completion and her recent launch with an admiration which had steadily increased until it grew into positive _love_. And now I was actually to have the happiness, the _bliss_, of going to sea in her as an officer on her first cruise. Ecstatic thought! I felt as though I was walking on air! But my rapture received a pretty effectual damper when I reflected--as I soon did--that my obstinate determination to go to sea must certainly prove a deep disappointment, if not a source of constant and cruel anxiety, to my father. Dear old dad! his most cherished wish, as I knew full well, had long been that I, his only son, might qualify myself to take over and carry on the exceedingly snug practice he had built up, when the pressure of increasing years should render his retirement desirable. But the idea was so utterly distasteful to me that I had persistently turned a deaf ear to all his arguments, persuasions, ay, and even his entreaties. Unfortunately, perhaps, for the fulfilment of his desires, I was born and brought up at Portsmouth; and all my earliest recollections of amusement are, in some way or other, connected with salt water. Swimming and boating early became absolute passions with me; I was never quite happy unless I happened to be either in or on the water; _then_, indeed, all other pleasures were less than nothing to me. As a natural consequence, I soon became the intimate companion of every boatman in the harbour; I acquired, to a considerable extent, their tastes and prejudices, and soon mastered all the nautical lore which it was in their power to teach me. I could sail a boat before I could read; and by the time that I had learned to write, was able to hand, reef, and steer with the best of them. My conversation--except when it was addressed to my father--was copiously interlarded with nautical phrases; and by the time I had attained the age of fourteen--at which period this history begins--I was not only acquainted with the name, place, and use of every rope and spar in a ship, but I had also an accurate knowledge of the various rigs, and a distinct opinion as to what constituted a good model. The astute reader will have gathered from this confession that I was, from my earliest childhood, left pretty much my own master; and such was in fact the case. My mother died in giving birth to my only sister Eva (two years my junior); a misfortune which, in consequence of my father's absorption in the duties of his practice, left me entirely to the care of the servants, by whom I was shamefully neglected. But for this I should doubtless have been trained to obedience and a respectful deference to my father's wishes. The mischief, however, was done; I had acquired a love of the sea, and my highest ambition was to become a naval officer. This fact my father at length reluctantly recognised, and by persistent entreaty I finally prevailed upon him to take the necessary steps to gratify my heart's desire--with the result already known to the reader. The sombre reflections induced by the thought of my father's disappointment did not, I confess with shame, last long. They vanished as a morning mist is dissipated before the rising sun, when I recalled to mind that I was not only going to sea, but that I was actually going to sail in the _Daphne_. This particular craft was my _beau-ideal_ of what a ship ought to be; and in this opinion I was by no means alone-- all my cronies hailing from the Hard agreeing, without exception, that she was far and away the handsomest and most perfect model they had ever seen. My admiration of her was unbounded; and on the day of her launch--upon which occasion I cheered myself hoarse--I felt, as I saw her gliding swiftly and gracefully down the ways, that it would be a priceless privilege to sail in her, even in the capacity of the meanest ship-boy. And now I was to be a midshipman on board her! I hurried onward with swift and impatient steps, and soon passed through the dockyard gates--having long ago, by dint of persistent coaxing, gained the _entree_ to the sacred precincts--when a walk of some four or five hundred yards further took me to the berth alongside the wharf where she was lying. Well as I knew every curve and line of her beautiful hull, my glances now dwelt upon her with tenfold loving interest. She was a ship-sloop of 28 guns--long 18-pounders--with a flush deck fore and aft. She was very long in proportion to her beam; low in the water, and her lines were as fine as it had been possible to make them. She had a very light, elegant-looking stern, adorned with a great deal of carved scroll-work about the cabin windows; and her gracefully-curved cut-water was surmounted by an exquisitely-carved full-length figure of Peneus' lovely daughter, with both arms outstretched, as in the act of flight, and with twigs and leaves of laurel just springing from her dainty finger-tips. There was a great deal of brass-work about the deck fittings, which gleamed and flashed brilliantly in the sun; and, the paint being new and fresh, she looked altogether superlatively neat, in spite of the fact that the operations of rigging and of shipping stores were both going on simultaneously. Having satisfied for the time being my curiosity with regard to the hull of my future home, I next cast a glance aloft at her spars. She was rigged only as far as her topmast-heads, her topgallant-masts being then on deck in process of preparation for sending aloft. When I had last seen her she was under the masting-shears getting her lower-masts stepped; and it then struck me that they were fitting her with rather heavy spars. But now, as I looked aloft, I was fairly startled at the length and girth of her masts and yards. To my eye--by no means an unaccustomed one--her spars seemed taunt enough for a ship of nearly double her size; and the rigging was heavy in the same proportion. I stood there on the wharf watching with the keenest interest the scene of bustle and animation on board until the bell rang the hour of noon, and all hands knocked off work and went to dinner; by which time the three topgallant-masts were aloft with the rigging all ready for setting up when the men turned-to again. The addition of these spars to the length of her already lofty masts gave the _Daphne_, in my opinion, more than ever the appearance of being over-sparred; an opinion in which, as it soon appeared, I was not alone. Most of the men left the dockyard and went home (as I suppose) to their dinner; but half a dozen or so of riggers, instead of following the example of the others, routed out from some obscure spot certain small bundles tied up in coloured handkerchiefs, and, bringing these on shore, seated themselves upon some of the boxes and casks with which the wharf was lumbered, and, opening the bundles, produced therefrom their dinners, which they proceeded to discuss with quite an enviable appetite. For a few minutes the meal proceeded in dead silence; but presently one of them, glancing aloft at the _Daphne's_ spars, remarked in a tone of voice which reached me distinctly--I was standing within a few feet of the party: "Well, Tom, bo'; what d'ye think of the hooker _now_?" The man addressed shook his head disapprovingly. "The more I looks at her the less I likes her," was his reply. "I'm precious glad _I_ ain't goin' to sea in her," observed another. "Same here," said the first speaker. "Why, look at the _Siren_ over there! She's a 38-gun frigate, and her mainmast is only two feet longer than the _Daphne's_--as I happen to know, for I had a hand in the buildin' of both the spars. The sloop's over-masted, that's what _she_ is." I turned away and bent my steps homeward. The short snatch of conversation which I had just heard, confirming as it did my own convictions, had a curiously depressing effect upon me, which was increased when, a few minutes afterwards, I caught a glimpse of the distant buoy which marked the position of the sunken _Royal George_. For the moment my enthusiasm was all gone; a foreboding of disaster took possession of me, and but for very shame I felt more than half-inclined to tell my father I had altered my mind, and would rather not go to sea. I had occasion afterwards to devoutly wish I had acted on this impulse. When, however, I was awakened next morning by the sun shining brilliantly in at my bed-room window, my apprehensions had vanished, my enthusiasm was again at fever-heat, and I panted for the moment--not to be very long deferred--when I should don my uniform and strut forth to sport my glories before an admiring world. Punctual almost to a moment--for once at least in his life--Mr Shears sent home the uniform whilst we were sitting down to luncheon; and the moment that I decently could I hastened away to try it on. The breeches were certainly rather wrinkly above the knees, and the jacket was somewhat uncomfortably tight across the chest when buttoned over; it also pinched me a good deal under the arm-pits, whilst the sleeves exhibited a trifle too much--some six inches or so--of my wristbands and shirt-sleeves; and when I looked at myself in the glass I found that there was a well-defined ridge of loose cloth running across the back from shoulder to shoulder. With these trifling exceptions, however, I thought the suit fitted me fairly well, and I hastened down- stairs to exhibit myself to my sister Eva. To my intense surprise and indignation she no sooner saw me than she burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and was heartless enough to declare that I looked "a perfect fright." Thoroughly disgusted with such unsisterly conduct I mustered all my dignity, and without condescending to ask for an explanation walked in contemptuous silence out of the room and the house. A regimental band was to play that afternoon on Southsea Common, and thither I accordingly decided to direct my steps. There were a good many people about the streets, and I had not gone very far before I made the discovery that everybody was in high good-humour about something or other. The people I met wore, almost without exception, genial smiling countenances, and many a peal of hearty laughter rang out from hilarious groups who had already passed me. I felt anxious to know what it was that thus set all Portsmouth laughing, and glanced round to see if I could discover an acquaintance of whom I might inquire; but, as usual in such cases, was unsuccessful. When I reached the Common I found, as I expected I should, a large and fashionably dressed crowd, with a good sprinkling of naval and military uniforms, listening to the strains of the band. Here, for the first five minutes or so, I failed to notice anything unusual in the behaviour of the people; but the humorous item of news must have reached them almost simultaneously with my own arrival upon the scene, for very soon I detected on the faces of those who passed me the same amused smile which I had before encountered in the streets. I stood well back out of the thick of the crowd; both because I could hear the music better, and also to afford any friend of mine who might chance to be present an opportunity to see me in my imposing new uniform. It was whilst I was standing thus in the most easy and nonchalant attitude I could assume that a horrible discovery forced itself upon me. I happened to be regarding with a certain amount of languid interest a couple of promenaders, consisting of a very lovely girl and a somewhat foppish ensign, when I suddenly caught the eye of the latter fixed upon me. He raised his eye-glass to his eye, and, in the coolest manner in the world, deliberately surveyed me through it, when, in an instant, a broad smile of amusement--the smile which I by this time knew so well-- overspread his otherwise inanimate features. I glanced hurriedly behind me to see if I could discover the cause of his risibility, and, failing to do so, turned round again, just in time to see him, with his eye- glass still bearing straight in my direction, bend his head and speak a few words to his fair companion. Thereupon she, too, glanced in my direction, looked steadfastly at me for a moment, and then burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter which she vainly strove to stifle in her pocket-handkerchief. For a second or two I was utterly lost in astonishment at this unaccountable behaviour, and then all the hideous truth thrust itself upon me. They were laughing at _me_. Having at length fully realised this I turned haughtily away and at once left the ground. I hurried homeward in a most unenviable state of mind, with the conviction every moment forcing itself more obtrusively upon me, that for some inconceivable reason I was the laughing-stock of everybody I met, when, just as I turned once more into the High Street I observed two midshipmen approaching on my own side of the way, and some half a dozen yards or so behind them a certain Miss Smith, a parlour boarder in the ladies' seminary opposite my father's house--a damsel not more than six or seven years my senior, with whom I was slightly acquainted, and for whom I had long cherished a secret but ardent passion. With that sensitiveness which is so promptly evoked by even the bare suspicion of ridicule I furtively watched the two "young gentlemen" as they approached; but they had been talking and laughing loudly when I first caught sight of them, and although I saw that they were aware of my presence I failed to detect the sudden change of manner which I had dreaded to observe. Whether they were speaking of me or not I could not, of course, feel certain; but I rather fancied from the glances they cast in my direction that they were. As they drew nearer I observed that the eyes of one of them were intently and inquiringly gazing into mine, and they continued so to do until the pair had fairly passed me. Being by this time in a decidedly aggressive frame of mind I returned this pertinacious gaze with a haughty and contemptuous stare, which, however, I must confess, did not appear to very greatly intimidate the individual at whom it was levelled, for, unless I was greatly mistaken, there was a twitching about the corners of his mouth which suggested a strong, indeed an almost uncontrollable disposition to laughter, whilst his eyes fairly beamed with merriment. As they passed me this individual half halted for an instant, passed on again a step or two, and then turning abruptly to the right-about, dashed after me and seized me by the hand, which he shook effusively, exclaiming as he did so: "It _is_--I'm _sure_ it is! My _dear_ Lord Henry, how are you? This is indeed an unexpected pleasure!" At this moment Miss Smith passed, giving me as she did so a little start of recognition, followed by a bow and a beaming smile, which I returned in my most fascinating manner. I was once more happy. This little incident, trifling though it was in itself, sufficed to banish in an instant the unpleasant reflections which a moment before had been rankling in my breast, for had not my fair divinity seen me in the uniform of the gallant defenders of our country? And had she not also heard and seen me mistaken for a lord? If this had no power to soften and subdue that proud heart and bring it in sweet humility to my feet, then--well I should like to know what would, that's all. I allowed my fair enslaver to pass out of ear-shot, and then said to the midshipman who had so unexpectedly addressed me: "Excuse me, sir, but I think you are mistaking me for someone else." "Oh, no, I'm not," he retorted. "I know you well enough--though I must say you are greatly altered for the better since I saw you last a year ago. You're Lord Henry de Vere Montmorenci. Ah, you sly dog! you thought to play a trick upon your old friend Fitz-Jones, did you? But what brings you down here, Montmorenci? Have you come down to join?" This was a most remarkable, and at the same time gratifying occurrence, for I could not keep feeling elated at being thus mistaken for a noble, and greeted with such enthusiasm by a most agreeable and intelligent brother officer, and--evidently--a scion of some noble house to boot. For a single instant an almost invincible temptation seized me to personate the character with which I was accredited, but it was as promptly overcome; my respect for the truth (temporarily) conquered my vanity, and I answered: "I assure you, my dear sir, you are mistaken. I am _not_ Lord Henry de Vere Montmorenci, but plain Richard Hawkesley, just nominated to the _Daphne_." "Well, if you persist in saying so, I suppose I must believe you," answered Fitz-Jones. "But, really, the resemblance is most extraordinary--truly remarkable indeed. There is the same lofty intellectual forehead, the same proud eagle-glance, the same haughty carriage; the same--now, tell me, Tomnoddy, upon your honour as an officer and a gentleman, did you ever in your life before see such an extraordinary resemblance?" "I never did; it is really most remarkable," answered the other midshipman in a strangely quivering voice which, but for his solemn countenance, I should have considered decidedly indicative of suppressed laughter. "It really is most singular, positively _marvellous_," resumed Fitz- Jones. Then he added hurriedly: "By the way, do you know my friend Tomnoddy? No! Then allow me to introduce him. Lord Tomnoddy--Mr Richard Hawkesley, just nominated to the _Daphne_. And I suppose I ought also to introduce myself. I am Lord Montague Fitz-Jones. You have, of course, heard of the Fitz-Jones family--the Fitz-J-o-h-n-e-s's, you know?" I certainly had not; nor had I, up to that moment, any idea that Lord Tomnoddy was other than a mythical personage; but I did not choose to parade my ignorance in such matters, so I replied by a polite bow. There was silence between us for a moment; and then Fitz-Jones--or Fitz- Johnes, rather--raised his hand to his forehead with a thoughtful air and murmured: "Hawkesley! Hawkesley! I'm _positive_ I've heard that name before. Now, where was it? Um--ah--eh? Yes; I have it. You're the handsome heartless fellow who played such havoc with my cousin Lady Mary's affections at the state ball last year. Now, don't deny it; I'm positive I'm right. Do you know," he continued, glaring at me in a most ferocious manner--"do you know that for the last six months I've been looking for you in order that I might shoot you?" Somehow I did not feel very greatly alarmed at this belligerent speech, and vanity having by this time conquered my natural truthfulness, I determined to sustain my unexpected reputation as a lady-killer at all hazards. I therefore drew myself up, and, assuming my sternest look, replied that I should be happy to give him the desired opportunity whenever he might choose. Fitz-Johnes' ferocious glare continued for a moment or two; then his brow cleared, and, extending his hand, he grasped mine, shook the member violently, and exclaimed: "That was spoken like a gentleman and a brave man! Give me your hand, Hawkesley. I respect you, sir; I esteem you; and I forgive you all. If there is one thing which touches me more than another, one thing which I _admire_ more than another, it is to see a man show a bold front in the face of deadly peril. Ah! _now_ I can understand Lady Mary's infatuation. Poor girl! I pity her. And I suppose that pretty girl who passed just now is another victim to your fascinating powers. Ah, well! it's not to be wondered at, I'm sure. Tomnoddy, do you remember, by the by--?" But Lord Tomnoddy was now standing with his back turned toward us, and his face buried in his pocket-handkerchief. His head was bowed, his shoulders were heaving convulsively, and certain inarticulate sounds which escaped him showed that he was struggling to suppress some violent emotion. Lord Fitz-Johnes regarded his companion fixedly for a moment, then linked his arm in mine, drew me aside, and whispered hastily: "Don't take any notice of him; he'll be all right again in a minute. It's only a little revulsion of feeling which has overcome him. He's frightfully tender-hearted--far too much so for a sailor; he can't bear the sight of blood; and he knew that if I called you out I should choose him for my second; and--you twig, eh!" I thought I did, but was not quite sure, so I bowed again, which seemed quite as satisfactory as words to Fitz-Johnes, for he said, with his arm still linked in mine: "That's all right. Now let's go and cement our friend ship over a bottle of wine at the `Blue Posts,' what do you say?" I intimated that the proposal was quite agreeable to me; and we accordingly wheeled about and directed our steps to the inn in question, which, in my time, was _the_ place of resort, _par excellence_, of all midshipmen. Lord Tomnoddy now removed his handkerchief from his eyes; and, sure enough, he _had_ been weeping, for I detected him in the very act of drying his tears. He must have possessed a truly wonderful command over his features, though, for I could not detect the faintest trace of that deep feeling which had overpowered him so shortly before; on the contrary, he laughed uproariously at a very feeble joke which I just then ventured to let off; and thereafter, until I parted with them both an hour later, was the merriest of the party. We arrived in due course at the "Blue Posts," and, walking into a private parlour, rang for the waiter. On the appearance of that individual, Fitz-Johnes, with a truly lordly air, ordered in three bottles of port; sagely remarking that he made a point of never drinking less than a bottle himself; and as his friend Hawkesley was _known_ to have laid down the same rule, the third bottle was a necessity unless Lord Tomnoddy was to go without. Lord Tomnoddy faintly protested against the ordering of so much wine; but Fitz-Johnes was firm in his determination, insisting that he should regard it as nothing short of a deliberate insult on Tomnoddy's part if that individual declined his hospitality. After a considerable delay the wine and glasses made their appearance, the waiter setting them down, and then pausing respectfully by the table. "Thank you; that will do. You need not wait," said Fitz-Johnes. "The money, if you please, sir," explained the waiter. "Oh, ah! yes, to be sure. The money." And Fitz-Johnes plunged his hand into his breeches pocket and withdrew therefrom the sum of twopence halfpenny, together with half a dozen buttons (assorted); a penknife minus its blades; the bowl of a clay tobacco pipe broken short off; three pieces of pipe-stem evidently originally belonging to the latter; and a small ball of sewing twine. Carefully arranging the copper coins on the edge of the table he returned the remaining articles to their original place of deposit, and then plunged his hand into his other pocket, from which he produced-- nothing. "How much is it?" he inquired, glancing at the waiter. "Fifteen shillings, if you please, sir," was the reply. "Lend me a sovereign, there's a good fellow; I've left my purse in my other pocket," he exclaimed to Lord Tomnoddy. "I would with pleasure, old fellow, if I had it. But, unfortunately, I haven't a farthing about me." Thereupon the waiter proceeded deliberately to gather up the glasses again, and was about to take them and the wine away, when I interposed with a proposal to pay. "No," said Fitz-Johnes fiercely; "I won't hear of it; I'll perish at the stake first. But if you really don't mind _lending_ me a sovereign until to-morrow--" I said I should be most happy; and forthwith produced the coin, which Fitz-Johnes, having received it, flung disdainfully down upon the table with the exclamation: "There, caitiff, is the lucre. Now, avaunt! begone! Thy bones are marrowless; and you have not a particle of speculation about you." The waiter, quite unmoved, took up the sovereign, laid down the change-- which Fitz-Johnes promptly pocketed--and retired from the room, leaving us to discuss our wine in peace; which we did, I taking three glasses, and my companions disposing of the remainder. Fitz-Johnes now became very communicative on the subject of his cousin Lady Mary; and finally the recollection came to him suddenly that she had sent him her miniature only a day or two before. This he proposed to show me, in order that I might pronounce an opinion as to the correctness of the likeness; but on instituting a search for it, he discovered--much to my relief, I must confess--that he had left it, with his purse, in the pocket of his other jacket. The wine at length finished, we parted company at the door of the "Blue Posts;" I shaping a course homeward, and my new friends heading in the direction of the Hard, their uproarious laughter reaching my ear for some time after they had passed out of sight. CHAPTER TWO. I QUIT THE PATERNAL ROOF. On reaching home I found that my father had preceded me by a few minutes only, and was to be found in the surgery. Thither, accordingly, I hastened to give him an opportunity of seeing me in my new rig. "Good Heavens, boy!" he exclaimed when he had taken in all the details of my appearance, "do you mean to say that you have presented yourself in public in that extraordinary guise?" I respectfully intimated that I had, and that, moreover, I failed to observe anything at all extraordinary in my appearance. "Well," observed he, bursting into a fit of hearty laughter, notwithstanding his evident annoyance, "_you_ may not have noticed it; but I'll warrant that everybody else has. Why, I should not have been surprised to hear that you had found yourself the laughing-stock of the town. Run away, Dick, and change your clothes at once; Shears must see those things and endeavour to alter them somehow; you can never wear them as they are." I slunk away to my room in a dreadfully depressed state of mind. Was it possible that what my father had said was true! A sickening suspicion seized me that it _was_; and that I had at last found an explanation of the universal laughter which had seemed to accompany me everywhere in my wanderings that wretched afternoon. I wrapped up the now hated uniform in the brown paper which had encased it when it came from Shears; and my father and I were about to sally forth with it upon a wrathful visit to the erring Shears, when a breathless messenger from him arrived with another parcel, and a note of explanation and apology, to the effect that by some unfortunate blunder the wrong suit had been sent home, and Mr Shears would feel greatly obliged if we would return it per bearer. The man, upon this, was invited inside and requested to wait whilst I tried on the rightful suit, which was found to fit excellently; and I could not avoid laughing rather ruefully as I looked in the glass and contrasted my then appearance with that which I remembered it to have been in the earlier part of the day. Later on, that same evening, my sea-chest and the remainder of my outfit arrived; and I was ready to join, as had been already arranged, on the following day. The eventful morning at length arrived; and with my enthusiasm considerably cooled by a night of sleepless excitement and the unpleasant consciousness that I was about, in an hour or two more, to bid a long farewell to home and all who loved me, I descended to the breakfast-room. My father was already there; but Eva did not come down until the last moment; and when she made her appearance it was evident that she had very recently been weeping. The dear girl kissed me silently with quivering lips, and we sat down to breakfast. My father made two or three efforts to start something in the shape of a conversation, but it was no good; the dear old gentleman was himself manifestly ill at ease; Eva could not speak a word for sobbing; and as for me, I was as unable to utter a word as I was to swallow my food--a great lump had gathered in my throat, which not only made it sore but also threatened to choke me, and it was with the utmost difficulty that I avoided bursting into a passion of tears. None of us ate anything, and at length the wretched apology for a meal was brought to a conclusion, my father read a chapter from the Bible, and we knelt down to prayers. I will not attempt to repeat here the words of his supplication. Suffice it to say that they went straight to my heart and lodged there, their remembrance encompassing me about as with a seven- fold defence in many a future hour of trial and temptation. On rising from his knees my father invited me to accompany him to his consulting-room, and on arriving there he handed me a chair, seated himself directly in front of me, and said: "Now, my dear boy, before you leave the roof which has sheltered you from your infancy, and go forth to literally fight your own way through the world, there is just a word or two of caution and advice which I wish to say. You are about to embark in a profession of your own deliberate choice, and whilst that profession is of so honourable a character that all who wear its uniform are unquestioningly accepted as gentlemen, it is also one which, from its very nature, exposes its followers to many and great temptations. I will not enlarge upon these; you are now old enough to understand the nature of many of them, and those which you may not at present know anything about will be readily recognisable as such when they present themselves; and a few simple rules will, I trust, enable you to overcome them. The first rule which I wish you to take for your guidance through life, my son, is this. Never be ashamed to honour your Maker. Let neither false pride, nor the gibes of your companions, nor indeed _any_ influence whatever, constrain you to deny Him or your dependence upon Him; never take His name in vain, nor countenance by your continued presence any such thing in others. Bear in mind the fact that He who holds the ocean in the hollow of His hand is also the Guide, the Helper, and the defender of `those who go down into the sea in ships;' and make it an unfailing practice to seek His help and protection every day of your life. "Never allow yourself to contract the habit of swearing. Many men--and, because of their pernicious example, many boys too--habitually garnish their conversation with oaths, profanity, and obscenity of the vilest description. It _may_ be--though I earnestly hope and pray it will not--that a bad example in this respect will be set you by even your superior officers. If such should unhappily be the case, think of this, our parting moments, and of my parting advice to you, and never suffer yourself to be led away by such example. In the first place it is wrong--it is distinctly _sinful_ to indulge in such language; and in the next place, to take much lower ground, it is vulgar, ungentlemanly, and altogether in the very worst possible taste. It is not even _manly_ to do so, though many lads appear to think it so; there is nothing manly, or noble, or dignified in the utterance of words which inspire in the hearers--unless they be the lowest of the low--nothing save the most extreme disgust. If you are ambitious to be classed among the vilest and most ruffianly of your species, use such language; but if your ambition soars higher than this, avoid it as you would the pestilence. "Be always _strictly_ truthful. There are two principal incentives to falsehood--vanity and fear. Never seek self-glorification by a falsehood. If fame is not to be won legitimately, do without it; and never seek to screen yourself by a falsehood--this is mean and cowardly in the last degree. `To err is human;' we are all liable to make mistakes sometimes; such a person as an infallible man, woman, or child has never yet existed, and never will exist. Therefore, if you make a mistake, have the courage to manfully acknowledge it and take the consequences; I will answer for it that they will not be very dreadful. A fault confessed is half atoned. And, apart from the _morality_ of the thing, let me tell you that a reputation for truthfulness is a priceless possession to a man; it makes his services _doubly_ valuable. "Be careful that you are always strictly honest, honourable, and upright in your dealings with others. Never let your reputation in this respect be sullied by so much as a breath. And bear this in mind, my boy, it is not sufficient that you should _be_ all this, you must also _seem_ it, that is to say you must keep yourself far beyond the reach of even the barest suspicion. Many a man who, by carelessness or inexperience, has placed himself in a questionable position, has been obliged to pay the penalty of his want of caution by carrying about with him, to the end of his life, the burden of a false and undeserved suspicion. "And now there is only one thing more I wish to caution you against, and that is _vanity_. It is a failing which is only too plainly perceptible in most boys of your age, and--do not be angry, Dick, if I touch the sore spot with a heavy hand; it is for your own good that I do it--you have it in a very marked degree. Like most of your compeers you think that, having passed your fourteenth birth-day, you are now a _man_, and in many points I notice that you have already begun to ape the ways of men. Don't do it, Dick. Manhood comes not so early; and of all disagreeable and objectionable characters, save me, I pray you, from a boy who mistakes himself for a man. Manhood, with its countless cares and responsibilities, will come soon enough; whilst you are a boy _be_ a boy; or, if you insist on being a man before your time, cultivate those attributes which are characteristic of _true_ manhood, such as fearless truth, scrupulous honour, dauntless courage, and so on; but _don't_, for Heaven's sake, adopt the follies and vices of men. As I have said, Dick, vanity is certainly your _great_ weakness, and I want you to be especially on your guard against it. It will tempt you to tamper with the truth, even if it does no worse," (I thought involuntarily of Lady Mary and my tacit admission of the justice of Lord Fitz-Johnes' impeachment of me with regard to her), "and it is quite possible that it may lead you into a serious scrape. "Now, Dick, my boy--my dear son--I have said to you all that I think, even in the slightest degree, necessary by way of caution and advice. I can only affectionately entreat you to remember and ponder upon my words, and pray God to lead you to a right understanding of them. "And now," he added, rising from his seat, "I think it is time you were on the move. Go and wish Eva good-bye, and then I will drive you down to the Hard--I see Edwards has brought round the carriage." I hurried away to the drawing-room, where I knew I should find my sister, and, opening the door gently, announced that I had come to say good-bye. The dear girl, upon hearing my voice, rose up from the sofa, in the cushion of which she had been hiding her tear-stained face, and came with unsteady steps toward me. Then, as I looked into her eyes-- heavy with the mental agony from which she was suffering, and which she bravely strove to hide for my sake--I realised, for the first time in my life, all the horror which lurks in that dreadful word "Farewell." Meaning originally a benediction, it has become by usage the word with which we cut ourselves asunder from all that is nearest and dearest to us; it is the signal for parting; the last word we address to our loved ones; the fatal spell at which they lingeringly and unwillingly withdraw from our clinging embrace; the utterance at which the hand-clasp of friendship or of love is loosed, and we are torn apart never perhaps again to meet until time shall be no more. My poor sister! It was pitiful to witness her intense distress. This was our first parting. Never before had we been separated for more than an hour or two at a time, and, there being only the two of us, our mutual affection had steadily, though imperceptibly, grown and strengthened from year to year until now, when to say "good-bye" seemed like the rending of our heart-strings asunder. It had to be said, however, and it _was_ said at last--God knows how, for my recollection of our parting moments is nothing more than that of a brief period of acute mental suffering--and then, placing my half- swooning sister upon the couch and pressing a last lingering kiss on her icy-cold lips, I rushed from the room and the house. My father had already taken his seat in the carriage; my luggage was piled up on the front seat alongside the driver, and nothing therefore remained but for me to jump in, slam-to the door, and we were off. It seemed equally impossible to my father and to myself to utter a single word during that short--though, in our then condition of acute mental tension, all too long--drive to the Hard; we sat therefore dumbly side by side, with our hands clasped, until the carriage drew up, when I sprang out, hastily hailed a boatman, and then at once began with feverish haste to drag my belongings off the carriage down into the road. I had still to say good-bye to my father, and I felt that I _must_ shorten the time as much as possible, that ten minutes more of such mental torture would drive me mad. The boatman quickly shouldered my chest, and, gathering up the remainder of my belongings in his disengaged hand, discreetly trotted off to the wherry, which he unmoored and drew alongside the slipway. Then I turned to my father, and, with the obtrusive lump in my throat by this time grown so inconveniently large that I could scarcely articulate, held out my hand to him. "Good-bye, father!" I stammered out huskily. "Good-bye, Dick, my son, my own dear boy!" he returned, not less affected than myself. "Good-bye! May God bless and keep you, and in His own good time bring you in health and safety back to us! Amen." A quick convulsive hand-clasp, a last hungry glance into the loving face and the sorrow-dimmed eyes which looked so longingly down into mine, and with a hardly-suppressed cry of anguish I tore myself away, staggered blindly down the slipway, tumbled into the boat, and, as gruffly as I could under the circumstances, ordered the boatman to put me on board the _Daphne_. CHAPTER THREE. THE TRUTH ABOUT FITZ-JOHNES. "Where are we going, Tom?" I asked, as the boatman, an old chum of mine, proceeded to step the boat's mast. "You surely don't need the sail for a run half-way across the harbour?" "No," he answered; "no, I don't. But we're bound out to Spithead. The _Daphne_ went out this mornin' at daylight to take in her powder, and I 'spects she's got half of it stowed away by this time. Look out for your head, Mr Dick, sir, we shall jibe in a minute." I ducked my head just in time to save my glazed hat from being knocked overboard by the jibing mainsail of the boat, and then drew out my handkerchief and waved another farewell to my father, whose fast- diminishing figure I could still make out standing motionless on the shore, with his hand shading his eyes as he watched the rapidly moving boat. He waved back in answer, and then the intervening hull of a ship hid him from my view, and I saw him no more for many a long day. "Ah, it's a sorry business that, partin' with friends and kinsfolk when you're outward-bound on a long cruise that you can't see the end of!" commented my old friend Tom; "but keep up a good heart, Mr Dick; it'll all be made up to yer when you comes home again by and by loaded down to the scuppers with glory and prize-money." I replied somewhat drearily that I supposed it would; and then Tom-- anxious in his rough kindliness of heart to dispel my depression of spirits and prepare me to present myself among my new shipmates in a suitably cheerful frame of mind--adroitly changed the subject and proceeded to put me "up to a few moves," as he expressed it, likely to prove useful to me in the new life upon which I was about to enter. "And be sure, Mr Dick," he concluded, as we shot alongside the sloop, "be sure you remember _always_ to touch your hat when you steps in upon the quarter-deck of a man-o'-war, no matter whether 'tis your own ship or a stranger." Paying the old fellow his fare, and parting with him with a hearty shake of the hand, I sprang up the ship's side, and--remembering Tom's parting caution just in the nick of time--presenting myself in due form upon the quarter-deck, where the first lieutenant had posted himself and from which he was directing the multitudinous operations then in progress, reported myself to that much-dreaded official as "come on board to join." He was a rather tall and decidedly handsome man, with a gentlemanly bearing and a well-knit shapely-looking figure, dark hair and eyes, thick bushy whiskers meeting under the chin, and a clear strong melodious voice, which, without the aid of a speaking-trumpet, he made distinctly heard from one end of the ship to the other. As he stood there, in an easy attitude with his hands lightly clasped behind his back and his eye taking in, as it seemed at a glance, everything that was going forward, he struck me as the _beau-ideal_ of a naval officer. I took a strong liking to him on the spot, an instinctive prepossession which was afterwards abundantly justified, for Mr Austin--that was his name--proved to be one of the best officers it has ever been my good fortune to serve under. "Oh, you're come on board to join, eh?" he remarked in response to my announcement. "I suppose you are the young gentleman about whom Captain Vernon was speaking to me yesterday. What is your name?" I told him. "Ah! Hawkesley! yes, that is the name. I remember now. Captain Vernon told me that although you have never been to sea as yet you are not altogether a greenhorn. What can you do?" "I can hand, reef, and steer, box the compass, pull an oar, or sail a boat; and I know the name and place of every spar, sail, and rope throughout the ship." "Aha! say you so? Then you will prove indeed a valuable acquisition. What is the name of this rope?" "The main-topgallant clewline," I answered, casting my eye aloft to note the "lead" of the rope. "Right!" he replied with a smile. "And you have the true nautical pronunciation also, I perceive. Mr Johnson,"--to a master's mate who happened to be passing at the moment--"this is Mr Hawkesley. Kindly take him under your wing and induct him into his quarters in the midshipmen's berth, if you please. Don't stop to stow away your things just now, Mr Hawkesley," he continued. "I shall have an errand for you in a few minutes." "Very well, sir," I replied. And following my new acquaintance, I first saw to the hoisting in of my traps, and then with them descended to the place which was to be my home for so many months to come. This was a tolerably roomy but very indifferently lighted cabin on the lower or orlop deck, access to which was gained by the descent of a very steep ladder. The furniture was of the most meagre description, consisting only of a very solid deal table, two equally solid forms or stools, and a couple of arm-chairs, one at each end of the table, all securely lashed down to the deck. There was a shelf with a ledge along its front edge, and divisions to form lockers, extending across the after-end of the berth; and under this hung three small book-cases, (which I was given to understand were private property) and a mirror six inches long by four inches wide, before which the "young gentlemen"-- four in number, including myself--and the two master's mates had to perform their toilets as best they could. The fore and after bulkheads of the apartment were furnished with stout hooks to which to suspend our hammocks, which, by the by, when slung, left, I noticed, but a very small space on either side of the table; and depending from a beam overhead there hung a common horn lantern containing the most attenuated candle I ever saw--a veritable "purser's dip." This lantern, which was suspended over the centre of the table, afforded, except at meal-times or other special occasions, the sole illumination of the place. Although the ship was new, and the berth had only been occupied a few days, it was already pervaded by a very powerful odour of paint and stale tobacco-smoke, which made me anxious to quit the place with the least possible delay. Merely selecting a position, therefore, for my chest, and leaving to the wretched lad, whom adverse fortune had made the attendant of the place, the task of lashing it down, I hastened on deck again, and presenting myself once more before the first lieutenant, announced that I was now ready to execute any commission with which he might be pleased to intrust me. "Very well," said he. "I want you to take the gig and proceed on board the _Saint George_ with this letter for the first lieutenant of that ship. Wait for an answer, and if he gives you a parcel be very careful how you handle it, as it will contain articles of a very fragile character which must on no account be damaged or broken." The gig was thereupon piped away, and when she was in the water and her crew in her I proceeded in my most stately manner down the side and flung myself in an easily negligent attitude into the stern-sheets. I felt at that moment exceedingly well satisfied with myself. I had joined the ship but a bare half-hour before; yet here I was, singled out from the rest of the midshipmen as the fittest person to be intrusted with an evidently important mission. I forgot not only my father's caution against vanity but also my sorrow at parting with him; my _amour propre_ rose triumphant above every other feeling; the disagreeable lump in my throat subsided, and with an unconscious, but no doubt very ludicrous, assumption of condescending authority, I gave the order to-- "Shove off, and get the muslin upon her, and see that you crack on, coxswain, for I am in a hurry." "Ay, ay, sir," returned that functionary in a very respectful tone of voice. "Step the mast, for'ard there, you sea-dogs, `and get the muslin on her.'" With a broad grin, whether at the verbatim repetition of my order, or in consequence of some pantomimic gesture on the part of the coxswain, who was behind me--I had a sudden painful suspicion that it might possibly be _both_--the men sprang to obey the order; and in another instant the mast was stepped, the halliard and tack hooked on, the sheet led aft, and the sail was all ready for hoisting. "What d'ye say, Tom; shall us take down a reef!" asked one of the men. "Reef? No, certingly not. Didn't you hear the gentleman say as how we was to `crack on' because he's in a hurry? Give her whole canvas," replied the coxswain. With a shivering flutter and a sudden violent jerk the sail was run up; and, careening gunwale-to, away dashed the lively boat toward the harbour. It was blowing fresh and squally from the eastward, and for the first mile of our course there was a nasty choppy sea for a boat. The men flung their oil-skins over their shoulders, and ranging themselves along the weather side of the boat, seated themselves on the bottom-boards, and away we went, jerk-jerking through it, the sea hissing and foaming past us to leeward, and the spray flying in a continuous heavy shower in over the weather-bow and right aft, drenching me through and through in less than five minutes. "I'm afeard you're gettin' rayther wet, sir," remarked the coxswain feelingly when I had just about arrived at a condition of complete saturation; "perhaps you'd better have my oil-skin, sir." "No, thanks," I replied, "I am very comfortable as I am." This was, to put it mildly, a perversion of the truth. I was _not_ very comfortable; I was wet to the skin, and my bran-new uniform, upon which I so greatly prided myself, was just about ruined. But it was then too late for the oil-skin to be of the slightest benefit to me; and, moreover, I did not choose that those men should think I cared for so trifling a matter as a wetting. But a certain scarcely-perceptible ironical inflection in the coxswain's voice, when he so kindly offered me the use of his jumper, suggested the suspicion that perhaps he was quietly amusing himself and his shipmates at my expense, and that the drenching I had received was due more to his management of the boat than anything else, so I set myself quietly to watch. I soon saw that my suspicion was well-founded. The rascal, instead of easing the boat and meeting the heavier seas as he ought to have done, was sailing the craft at top speed right through them, varying the performance occasionally by keeping the boat broad away when a squall struck her, causing her to careen until her gunwale went under, and as a natural consequence shipping a great deal of water. At length he rather overdid it, a squall striking the boat so heavily that before he could luff and shake the wind out of the sail she had filled to the thwarts. I thought for a moment that we were over, and so did the crew of the boat, who jumped to their feet in consternation. Being an excellent swimmer myself, however, I managed to perfectly retain my _sang-froid_, whilst I also recognised in the mishap an opportunity to take the coxswain down a peg or two. Lifting my legs, therefore, coolly up on the side seat out of reach of the water, I said: "How long have you been a sailor, coxswain?" "Nigh on to seven year, sir. Now then, lads, dowse the sail smartly and get to work with the bucket." "Seven years, have you?" I returned placidly. "Then you _ought_ to know how to sail a boat by this time. I have never yet been to sea; but I should be ashamed to make such a mess of it as this." To this my friend in the rear vouchsafed not a word in reply, but from that moment I noticed a difference in the behaviour of the men all round. They found they had not got quite the greenhorn to deal with that they had first imagined. When at last the boat was freed of the water and sail once more made upon her, I remarked to the coxswain: "Now, Tom--if that is your name--you have amused yourself and your shipmates at my expense--to your heart's content, I hope--you have played off your little practical joke upon me, and I bear no malice. But--let there be no more of it--do you understand?" "Ay ay, sir; I underconstumbles," was the reply; "and I'm right sorry now as I did it, sir, and I axes your parding, sir; that I do. Dash my buttons, though, but you're a rare plucky young gentleman, you are, sir, though I says it to your face. And I hopes, sir, as how you won't bear no malice again' me for just tryin' a bit to see what sort o' stuff you was made of, as it were?" I eased the poor fellow's mind upon this point, and soon afterwards we arrived alongside the _Saint George_. I found the first lieutenant, and duly handed over my despatch, which he read with a curious twitching about the corners of the mouth. Having mastered the contents, he retired below, asking me to wait a minute or two. At that moment my attention was attracted to a midshipman in the main rigging, who, with exaggerated deliberation, was making his unwilling way aloft to the mast-head as it turned out. A certain familiar something about the young gentleman caused me to look up at him more attentively; and I then at once recognised my recent acquaintance, Lord Fitz-Johnes. At the same moment the second lieutenant, who was eyeing his lordship somewhat wrathfully, hailed him with: "Now then, Mr Tomkins, are you going to be all day on your journey? Quicken your movements, sir, or I will send a boatswain's mate after you with a rope's-end to freshen your way. Do you hear, sir?" "Ay ay, sir," responded the _ci-devant_ Lord Fitz-Johnes--now plain Mr Tomkins--in a squeaky treble, as he made a feeble momentary show of alacrity. Just then I caught his eye, and, taking off my hat, made him an ironical bow of recognition, to which he responded by pressing his body against the rigging--pausing in his upward journey to give due effect to the ceremony--spreading his legs as widely apart as possible, and extending both hands toward me, the fingers outspread, the thumb of the right hand pressing gently against the point of his nose, and the thumb of the left interlinked with the right-hand little finger. This salute was made still more impressive by a lengthened slow and solemn twiddling of the fingers, which was only brought to an end by the second lieutenant hailing: "Mr Tomkins, you will oblige me by prolonging your stay at the mast- head until the end of the afternoon watch, if you please." As the answering "Ay ay, sir," came sadly down from aloft, I felt a touch on my arm, and, turning round, found my second acquaintance, Lord Tomnoddy, by my side. As I looked at him I felt strongly inclined to ask him whether _he_ also had changed his name since our last meeting. "Oh, look here, Hawksbill," he commenced, "I'm glad you've come on board; I wanted to see you in order that I might repay you the sovereign you lent us the other day. Here it is,"--selecting the coin from a handful which he pulled out of his breeches pocket and thrusting it into my hand--"and I am very much obliged to you for the loan. I _really_ hadn't a farthing in my pocket at the time, or I wouldn't have allowed Tomkins to borrow it from you--and it was awfully stupid of me to let you go away without saying where I could send it to you." "Pray do not say anything further about it, Mr --, Mr --." "I am Lord Southdown, at your service--_not_ Lord Tomnoddy, as my whimsical friend Tomkins dubbed me the other day. It is perfectly true," he added somewhat haughtily, and then with a smile resumed: "but I suppose I must not take offence at your look of incredulity, seeing that I was a consenting party to that awful piece of deception which Tomkins played off upon you. Ha, ha, ha! excuse me, but I really wish you could have seen yourself when that mischievous friend of mine accused you of--of--what was it? Oh, yes, of playing fast and loose with the affections of the fictitious Lady Sara, or whatever the fellow called her. And then again, when he remarked upon your extraordinary resemblance to Lord--Somebody--another fictitious friend of his, and directed attention to your `lofty intellectual forehead, your proud eagle-glance, your--' oh, dear! it was _too_ much." And off went his lordship into another paroxysm of laughter, which sent the tears coursing down his cheeks and caused me to flush most painfully with mortification. "Upon my word, Hawksbill--" he commenced. "My name is Hawkesley, my lord, at your service," I interrupted, somewhat angrily I am afraid. "I beg your pardon, Mr Hawkesley; the mistake was a perfectly genuine and unintentional one, I assure you. I was going to apologise--as I _do_, most heartily, for laughing at you in this very impertinent fashion. But, my dear fellow, let me advise you as a friend to overcome your very conspicuous vanity. I am, perhaps, taking a most unwarrantable liberty in presuming to offer you advice on so delicate a subject, or, indeed, in alluding to it at all; but, to tell you the truth, I have taken rather a liking for you in spite of--ah--ahem--that is--I mean that you struck me as being a first-rate fellow notwithstanding the little failing at which I have hinted. You are quite good enough every way to pass muster without the necessity for any attempt to clothe yourself with fictitious attributes of any kind. Of course, in the ordinary run of events you will soon be laughed out of your weakness--there is no place equal to a man-of-war for the speedy cure of that sort of thing--but the process is often a very painful one to the patient--I have passed through it myself, so I can speak from experience--so _very_ painful was it to me that, even at the risk of being considered impertinent, I have ventured to give you a friendly caution, in the hope that your good sense will enable you to profit by it, and so save you many a bitter mortification. Now I _hope_ I have not offended you?" "By no means, my lord," I replied, grasping his proffered hand. "On the contrary, I am very sincerely obliged to you--" At this moment the first lieutenant of the _Saint George_ reappeared on deck, and coming up to me with Mr Austin's letter open in his hand, said: "My friend Mr Austin writes me that you are quite out of eggs on board the _Daphne_, and asks me to lend him a couple of dozen." (Here was another take-down for me; the important despatch with which I--_out of all the midshipmen on board_--had been intrusted was simply a request for the loan of two dozen eggs!) "He sends to me for them instead of procuring them from the shore, because he is afraid you may lose some of your boat's crew." (Evidently Mr Austin had not the high opinion of me that I fondly imagined he had.) "I am sorry to say I cannot oblige Mr Austin; but I think we can overcome the difficulty if you do not mind being delayed a quarter of an hour or so. I have a packet which I wish to send ashore, and if you will give Lord Southdown here--who seems to be a friend of yours--a passage to the Hard and off again, he will look after your boat's crew for you whilst you purchase your eggs." I of course acquiesced in this proposal; whereupon Lord Southdown was sent into the captain's cabin for the packet in question; and on his reappearance a few minutes later we jumped into the boat and went ashore together, his lordship regaling me on the way with sundry entertaining anecdotes whereof his humorous friend Tomkins was the hero. We managed to execute our respective errands without losing any of the boat's crew; and duly putting Lord Southdown on board the _Saint George_ again, I returned triumphantly to the _Daphne_ with my consignment of eggs and handed them over intact to Mr Austin. After which I dived below, just in time to partake of the first dinner provided for me at the expense of His Most Gracious Majesty George IV. For the remainder of that day and during the whole of the next, until nearly ten o'clock at night, we were up to our eyes in the business of completing stores, etcetera, and, generally, in getting the ship ready for sea; and at daybreak on the second morning after I had joined, the fore-topsail was loosed, blue peter run up to the fore royal-mast head, the boats hoisted in and stowed, and the messenger passed, after which all hands went to breakfast. At nine o'clock the captain's gig was sent on shore, and at 11 a.m. the skipper came off; his boat was hoisted up to the davits, the canvas loosed, the anchor tripped, and away we went down the Solent and out past the Needles, with a slashing breeze at east-south-east and every stitch of canvas set, from the topgallant studding-sails downwards. CHAPTER FOUR. A BOAT-EXCURSION INTO THE CONGO. Our skipper's instructions were to the effect that he was, in the first instance, to report himself to the governor of Sierra Leone; and it was to that port, therefore, that we now made the best of our way. The breeze with which we started carried us handsomely down channel and half-way across the Bay of Biscay, and the ship proving to be a regular flyer, everybody, from the skipper downwards, was in the very best of spirits. Then came a change, the wind backing out from south-west with squally weather which placed us at once upon a taut bowline; and simultaneously with this change of weather a most disagreeable discovery was made, namely, that the _Daphne_ was an exceedingly crank ship. However, we accomplished the passage in a little over three weeks; and after remaining at Sierra Leone for a few hours only, proceeded for the mouth of the Congo, off which we expected to fall in with the _Fawn_, which ship we had been sent out to relieve. Proceeding under easy canvas, in the hope of picking up a prize by the way--in which hope, so however, we were disappointed--we reached our destination in twenty- three days from Sierra Leone; sighting the _Fawn_ at daybreak and closing with her an hour afterwards. Her skipper came on board the _Daphne_ and remained to breakfast with Captain Vernon, whom--our skipper being a total stranger to the coast--he posted up pretty thoroughly in the current news, as well as such of the "dodges" of the slavers as he had happened to have picked up. He said that at the moment there were no ships in the river, but that intelligence--whether trustworthy or no, however, he could not state--had reached him of the daily-expected arrival of three ships from Cuba. He also confirmed a very extraordinary story which had been told our skipper by the governor of Sierra Leone, to the effect that large cargoes of slaves, known to have been collected on shore up the river, awaiting the arrival of the slavers, had from time to time disappeared in a most mysterious manner, at times when, as far as could be ascertained, no craft but men-o'-war were anywhere near the neighbourhood. At noon the _Fawn_ filled away and bore up for Jamaica--whither she was to proceed preparatory to returning home to be paid off--her crew manning the rigging and giving us a parting cheer as she did so; and two hours later her royals dipped below the horizon, and we were left alone in our glory. On parting from the _Fawn_ we filled away again upon the starboard tack, the wind being off the shore, and at noon brought the ship to an anchor in nine fathoms of water off Padron Point (the projecting headland on the southern side of the river's mouth) at a distance of two miles only from the shore. The order was then given for the men to go to dinner as soon as that meal could be got ready; it being understood that, notwithstanding the _Fawn's_ assurance as to there being no ships in the river, our skipper intended to satisfy himself of that fact by actual examination. Moreover, the deserted state of the river afforded us an excellent opportunity for making an unmolested exploration of it--making its acquaintance, so to speak, in order that at any future time, if occasion should arise, we might be able to make a dash into it without feeling that we were doing so absolutely blindfold. At 1:30 p.m. the gig was piped away; Mr Austin being in charge, with me for an _aide_, all hands being fully armed. The wind had by this time died away to a dead calm; the sun was blazing down upon us as if determined to roast us as we sat; and we had a long pull before us, for although the ship lay only two miles from the shore, we had to round a low spit, called, as Mr Austin informed me, Shark Point, six miles away, in a north-easterly direction, before we could be said to be fairly in the river. For this point, then, away we stretched, the perspiration streaming from the men at every pore. Fortunately the tide had begun to make before we started, and it was therefore in our favour. We had a sounding-line with us, which we used at frequent intervals; and by its aid we ascertained that at a distance of one mile from the shore the shallowest water between the ship and Shark Point was about three and a half fathoms at low water. This was at a spot distant some three and a half miles from the point. Half a mile further on we suddenly deepened our water to forty-five fathoms; and at a distance of only a quarter of a mile from the point as we rounded it, the lead gave us fifteen fathoms, shortly afterwards shoaling to six fathoms, which depth was steadily maintained for a distance of eight miles up the river, the extent of our exploration on this occasion. On our return journey we kept a little further off the shore, and found a corresponding increase in the depth of water; a result which fully satisfied us that we need have no hesitation about taking the _Daphne_ inside should it at any time seem desirable so to do. Immediately abreast of Shark Point is an extensive creek named Banana Creek; and hereabouts the river is fully six miles wide. On making out the mouth of this creek it was our first intention to have explored it; but on rounding the point and fairly entering the river, we made out so many snug, likely-looking openings on the southern side that we determined to confine our attention to that side first. In the first place, immediately on rounding Shark Point we discovered a bay at the back of it, roughly triangular in shape, about four miles broad across the base, and perhaps three miles deep from base to apex. At the further end of the base of this triangular bay we descried the mouth of the creek; and at the apex or bottom of the bay, another. The latter of these we examined first, making the discovery that the mouth or opening gave access to _three_ creeks instead of one; they were all, however, too shallow to admit anything drawing over ten feet, even at high-water; and the land adjoining was also so low and the bush so stunted--consisting almost exclusively of mangroves--that only a partial concealment could have been effected unless a ship's upper spars were struck for the occasion. A low-rigged vessel, such as a felucca, would indeed find complete shelter in either of the two westernmost creeks-- the easternmost had only three feet of water in it when we visited it; but the shores on either side consisted only of a brownish-grey fetid mud, of a consistency little thicker than pea-soup; and the facilities for embarking slaves were so utterly wanting that we felt sure we need not trouble ourselves at any future time about either of these creeks. The other creek, that which I have described as situated at the further end of the base of the triangle forming the bay, was undoubtedly more promising; though, like the others, it could only receive craft of small tonnage, having a little bar of its own across its mouth, on which at half-tide, which was about the time of our visit, there was only seven feet of water. Its banks, however, were tolerably firm and solid; the jungle was thicker and higher; though little more than a cable's length wide at its mouth, it was nearly a mile in width a little further in; and branching off from it, right and left, there were three or four other snug-looking little creeks, wherein a ship of light draught might lie as comfortably as if in dry-dock, and wherein, by simply sending down topgallant-masts, she would be perfectly concealed. Mr Austin would greatly have liked to land here and explore the bush a bit on each side of the creek; but our mission just then was to make a rough survey of the river rather than of its banks, so we reluctantly made our way back once more to the broad rolling river. A pull of a couple of miles close along the shore brought us to the entrance of another creek, which for a length of two miles averaged quite half a mile wide, when it took a sharp bend to the right, or in a southerly direction, and at the same time narrowed down to less than a quarter of a mile in width. For the first two miles we had plenty of water, that is to say, there was never less than five fathoms under our keel; but with the narrowing of the creek it shoaled rapidly, so that by the time we had gone another mile we found ourselves in a stream about a hundred yards wide and only six feet deep. The mangrove-swamp, however, had ceased; and the grassy banks, shelving gently down to the water on each side, ended in a narrow strip of reddish sandy beach. The bush here was very dense and the vegetation extremely varied, whilst the foliage seemed to embrace literally all the colours of the rainbow. Greens of course predominated, but they were of every conceivable shade, from the pale delicate tint of the young budding leaf to an olive which was almost black. Then there was the ruddy bronze of leaves which appeared just ready to fall; and thickly interspersed among the greens were large bushes with long lance-shaped leaves of a beautifully delicate ashen-grey tint; others glowed in a rich mass of flaming scarlet; whilst others again had a leaf thickly covered with short white sheeny satin-like fur--I cannot otherwise describe it--which gleamed and flashed in the sun-rays as though the leaves were of polished silver. Some of the trees were thickly covered with blossoms exquisite both in form and colour; while as to the passion-plant and other flowering creepers, they were here, there, and everywhere in such countless varieties as would have sent a botanist into the seventh heaven of delight. That this vast extent of jungle was not tenantless we had frequent assurance in the sudden sharp cracking of twigs and branches, as well as other more distant and more mysterious sounds; an occasional glimpse of a monkey was caught high aloft in the gently swaying branches of some forest giant; and birds of gorgeous plumage but more or less discordant cries constantly flitted from bough to bough, or swept in rapid flight across the stream. We were so enchanted with the beauty of this secluded creek that though the time was flitting rapidly away Mr Austin could not resist the temptation to push a little further on, notwithstanding the fact that we had already penetrated higher than a ship, even of small tonnage, could possibly reach; and the men, nothing loath, accordingly paddled gently ahead for another mile. At this point we discovered that the tide was met and stopped by a stream of thick muddy fresh water; the creek or river, whichever you choose to call it, had narrowed in until it was only about a hundred feet across; and the water had shoaled to four feet. The trees in many places grew right down to the water's edge; the roots of some, indeed, were actually covered, and here and there the more lofty ones, leaning over the stream on either side, mingled their foliage overhead and formed a leafy arch, completely excluding the sun's rays and throwing that part of the river which they overarched into a deep green twilight shadow to which the eye had to become accustomed before it was possible to see anything. A hundred yards ahead of us there was a long continuous _tunnel_ formed in this way; and, on entering it, the men with one accord rested on their oars and allowed the boat to glide onward by her own momentum, whilst they looked around them, lost in wonder and admiration. As we shot into this watery lane, and the roll of the oars in the rowlocks ceased, the silence became profound, almost oppressively so, marked and emphasised as it was by the lap and gurgle of the water against the boat's planking. Not a bird was here to be seen; not even an insect--except the mosquitoes, by the by, which soon began to swarm round us in numbers amply sufficient to atone for the absence of all other life. But the picture presented to our view by the long avenue of variegated foliage, looped and festooned in every direction with flowery creepers loaded with blooms of the most gorgeous hues; and the deep green--almost black--shadows, contrasted here and there with long arrowy shafts of greenish light glancing down through invisible openings in the leafy arch above, and lighting up into prominence some feathery spray or drooping flowery wreath, was enchantingly beautiful. We were all sitting motionless and silent, wrapped in admiration of the enchanting scene, all the more enchanting, perhaps, to us from its striking contrast to the long monotony of sea and sky only upon which our eyes had so lately rested, when a slight, sharp, crackling sound-- proceeding from apparently but a short distance off in the bush on our port bow--arrested our attention. The boat had by this time lost her way, and the men, abruptly roused from their trance of wondering admiration, were about once more to dip their oars in the water when Mr Austin's uplifted hand arrested them. The sounds continued at intervals; and presently, without so much as the rustling of a bough to prepare us for the apparition, a magnificent antelope emerged from the bush about fifty yards away, and stepped daintily down into the water. His quick eye detected in an instant the unwonted presence of our boat and ourselves, and instead of bowing his head at once to drink, as had evidently been his first intention, he stood motionless as a statue, gazing wonderingly at us. He was a superb creature, standing as high at the shoulders as a cow, with a smooth, glossy hide of a very light chocolate colour--except along the belly and on the inner side of the thighs, where the hair was milk-white--and long, sharp, gracefully curving horns. We were so close to him that we could even distinguish the greenish lambent gleam of his eyes. Mr Austin very cautiously reached out his hand for a musket which lay on the thwart beside him, and had almost grasped it, when--in the millionth part of a second, as it seemed to me, so rapid was it--there was a flashing swirl of water directly in front of the deer, and before the startled creature had time to make so much as a single movement to save itself, an immense alligator had seized it by a foreleg and was tug-tugging at it in an endeavour to drag it into deep water. The deer, however, though taken by surprise and at a disadvantage, was evidently determined not to yield without a struggle, and, lowering his head, he made lunge after lunge at his antagonist with the long, sharply-pointed horns which had so excited my admiration, holding bravely back with his three disengaged legs the while. "Give way, men," shouted Mr Austin in a voice which made the leafy archway ring again. "Steer straight for the crocodile, Tom; plump the boat right on him; and, bow-oar, lay in and stand by to prod the fellow with your boat-hook. Drive it into him under the arm-pit if you can; that, I believe, is his most vulnerable part." Animated by the first lieutenant's evident excitement, the men dashed their oars into the water, and, with a tug which made the stout ash staves buckle like fishing-rods, sent the boat forward with a rush. The alligator--or crocodile, whichever he happened to be--was, however, in the meantime, getting the best of the struggle, dragging the antelope steadily ahead into deeper water every instant, in spite of the beautiful creature's desperate resistance. We were only a few seconds in reaching the scene of the conflict, yet during that brief period the buck had been dragged forward until the water was up to his belly. "Hold water! back hard of all!" cried Mr Austin, standing up in the stern-sheets, musket in hand, as we ranged up alongside the frantic deer. "Now give it him with your boat-hook; drive it well home into him. That's your sort, Ben; another like that, and he _must_ let go. Well struck! now another--" Bang! The crocodile had suddenly released his hold upon the antelope; and the creature no sooner felt itself free than it wheeled round, and, on three legs--the fourth was broken above the knee-joint, or probably _bitten_ in two--made a gallant dash for the shore. But our first lieutenant was quite prepared for such a movement, had anticipated it, in fact, and the buck had barely emerged from the water when he was cleverly dropped by a bullet from Mr Austin's musket. The boat was thereupon promptly beached, the buck's throat cut, and the carcass stowed away in the stern-sheets, which it pretty completely filled. We were just about to shove off again when the first lieutenant caught sight of a banana-tree, with the fruit just in right condition for cutting; so we added to our spoils three huge bunches of bananas, each as much as a man could conveniently carry. The deepening shadows now warned us that the sun was sinking low; so we shoved off and made the best of our way back to the river. When we reached it we found that there was a small drain of the flood-tide still making, and, the land-breeze not yet having sprung up, Mr Austin determined to push yet a little higher up the river. The boat's head was accordingly pointed to the eastward, and, four miles further on, we hit upon another opening, into which we at once made our way. We had no sooner entered this creek, however, than we found that, like the first we had visited, it forked into two, one branch of which trended to the south-west and the other in a south-easterly direction. We chose the latter, and soon found ourselves pulling along a channel very similar to the last one we had explored, except that, in the present instance, the first of a chain of hills, stretching away to the eastward, lay at no great distance ahead of us. A pull of a couple of miles brought us to a bend in the stream; and in a few minutes afterwards we found ourselves sweeping along close to the base of the hills, in a channel about a quarter of a mile wide and with from three to four and a half fathoms of water under us. Twenty minutes later the channel again divided, one branch continuing on in an easterly direction, whilst the other--which varied from a half to three-quarters of a mile in width--branched off abruptly to the northward and westward. Mr Austin chose this channel, suspecting that it would lead into the river again, a suspicion which another quarter of an hour proved correct. The sun was by this time within half an hour of setting, and Shark Point--or rather the tops of the mangroves growing upon it--lay stretched along the horizon a good eleven miles off, so it was high time to see about returning. But the tide had by this time turned and was running out pretty strongly in mid-channel; the land-breeze also had sprung up, and, though where we were, close inshore, we did not feel very much of it, was swaying the tops of the more lofty trees in a way which I am sure must have gladdened the hearts of the boat's crew; so the oars were laid in, the mast stepped, and the lug hoisted, and in another ten minutes we were bowling down stream--what with the current and the breeze, both of which we got in their full strength as soon as we had hauled a little further out from the bank--at the rate of a good honest ten knots per hour. The sun went down in a bewildering blaze of purple and crimson and gold when we were within five miles of Shark Point; and, ten minutes afterwards, night--the glorious night of the tropics--was upon us in all its loveliness. The heavens were destitute of cloud--save a low bank down on the western horizon--and the soft velvety blue-black of the sky was literally powdered with countless millions of glittering gems. I do not remember that I ever before or since saw so many of the smaller stars; and as for the larger stars and the planets, they shone down upon us with an effulgence which caused them to be reflected in long shimmering lines of golden light upon the turbid water. Presently the boat's lug-sail, which spread above and before us like a great blot of ghostly grey against the starlit sky, began perceptibly to pale and brighten until it stood out clear and distinct, bathed in richest primrose light, with the shadow of the mast drawn across it in ebony-black. Striking the top of the sail first, the light swept gradually down; and in less than a minute the whole of the boat, with the crew and ourselves, were completely bathed in it. I looked behind me to ascertain the cause of this sudden glorification, and, behold! there was the moon sweeping magnificently into view above the distant tree-tops, her full orb magnified to three or four times its usual dimensions and painted a glorious ruddy orange by the haze which began to rise from the bosom of the river. Under the magic effect of the moonlight the noble river, with its background of trees and bush rising dim and ghostly above the wreathing mist and its swift-flowing waters shimmering in the golden radiance, presented a picture the dream-like beauty of which words are wholly inadequate to describe. But I am willing to confess that my admiration lost a great deal of its ardour when Mr Austin informed me that the mist which imparted so subtle a charm to the scene was but the forerunner of the deadly miasmatic fog which makes the Congo so fatal a river to Europeans; and I was by no means sorry when we found ourselves, three-quarters of an hour later, once more in safety alongside the _Daphne_, having succeeded in making good our escape before the pestilential fog overtook us. Our prizes, the buck and the bananas, were cordially welcomed on board the old barkie; the bananas being carefully suspended from the spanker-boom to ripen at their leisure, whilst the buck was handed over to the butcher to be operated upon forthwith, so far at least as the flaying was concerned; and on the morrow all hands, fore and aft, enjoyed the unwonted luxury of venison for dinner. Mr Austin having duly reported to Captain Vernon that the river was just then free of shipping, we hove up the anchor that same evening, at the end of the second dog-watch, and stood off from the land all night under easy canvas. CHAPTER FIVE. THE "VESTALE." About three bells in the forenoon watch next morning the look-out aloft reported a sail on the larboard bow; and, on being questioned in the usual manner, he shouted down to us the further information that the stranger was a brig working in for the land on the starboard tack under topgallant-sails, and that she had all the look of a man-o'-war. By six bells we had closed each other within a mile; and a few minutes afterwards the stranger crossed our bows, and, laying her main topsail to the mast, lowered a boat. Perceiving that her captain wanted to speak us, we of course at once hauled our wind and, backing our main topsail, hove-to about a couple of cables' lengths to windward of the brig. She was as beautiful a craft as a seaman's eye had ever rested on: long and low upon the water, with a superbly-modelled hull, enormously lofty masts with a saucy rake aft to them, and very taunt heavy yards. She mounted seven guns of a side, apparently of the same description and weight as our own--long 18-pounders, and there was what looked suspiciously like a long 32-pounder on her forecastle. She was flying French colours, but she certainly looked at least as much like an English as she did like a French ship. The boat dashed alongside us in true man-o'-war style; our side was duly manned, and presently there entered through the gangway a man dressed in the uniform of a lieutenant in the French navy. He was of medium height and rather square built; his skin was tanned to a deep mahogany colour; his hair and bushy beard were jet black, as also were his piercing, restless eyes; and though rather a handsome man, his features wore a fierce and repellent expression, which, however, passed away as soon as he began to speak. "Bon jour, m'sieu," he began, raising his uniform cap and bowing to Mr Austin, who met him at the gangway. "What chip dis is, eh?" "This, sir, is His Britannic Majesty's sloop _Daphne_. What brig is that?" "That, sair, is the Franch brigue of war _Vestale_; and I am Jules Le Breton, her first leeftant, at your serveece. Are you le capitaine of this vaisseau?" "No, sir; I am the first lieutenant, and my name is Austin," with a bow. "Captain Vernon is in his cabin. Do you wish to see him?" At that moment the skipper made his appearance from below, and stepping forward, the French lieutenant was presented to him with all due formality by Mr Austin. It being my watch on deck I was promenading fore and aft just to leeward of the group, and consequently overheard pretty nearly everything that passed. The _Vestale_, it appeared from Monsieur Le Breton's statement, had just returned to the coast from a fruitless chase half across the Atlantic after a large barque which had managed to slip out of the Congo and dodge past them some three weeks previously, and she was now about to look in there once more in the hope of meeting with better fortune. And, judging from the course we were steering that we had just left the river, Monsieur Le Breton had, "by order of Capitane Dubosc, ventured upon the liberte" of boarding us in order to ascertain the latest news. The skipper of course mentioned our exploring expedition of the previous day, assured him of the total absence of all ships from the river, and finally invited him into the cabin to take wine with him. They were below fully half an hour, and when they returned to the deck the Frenchman was chattering away in very broken English in the most lively manner, and gesticulating with his hands and shoulders as only a Frenchman can. But notwithstanding the animation with which he was conversing, I could not help noticing that his eyes were all over the ship, not in an abstracted fashion, but evidently with the object of thoroughly "taking stock" of us. It struck me, too, that his English was too broken to be quite genuine--or rather, to be strictly correct, that it was not always broken to the same extent. For instance, he once or twice used the word "the," uttering it as plainly as I could; and at other times I noticed that he called it "ze" or "dee." And I detected him ringing the changes in like manner on several other words. From which I inferred that he was not altogether as fair and above-board with us as he wished us to believe. I felt half disposed to seize an early opportunity to mention the matter to Mr Austin; but then, on the other hand, I reflected that Monsieur Le Breton could hardly have any possible reason for attempting to deceive us in any way, and so for the moment the matter passed out of my mind. At length our visitor bowed himself down over the side, throwing one last lingering look round our decks as he did so, and in another five minutes was once more on board his own ship, which, hoisting up her boat, filled her main topsail, and, with a dip of her ensign by way of "good-bye," resumed her course. "Thank Heaven I've got rid of the fellow at last!" exclaimed Captain Vernon with a laugh, when the brig was once more fairly under weigh. "He has pumped me dry; such an inquisitive individual I think I never in my life encountered before. But I fancy I have succeeded in persuading him that he will do no good by hanging about the coast hereabouts. We want no Frenchmen to help us with our work; and I gave him so very discouraging an account of the state of things here, that I expect they will take a trip northward after looking into the river." We continued running off the land for the remainder of that day, the whole of the following night, and up to noon next day, with a breeze which sent us along, under topsails only, at a rate of about six knots an hour. On the following day, at six bells in the forenoon watch (11 a.m.), the look-out aloft reported a something which he took to be floating wreckage, about three points on the port bow; and Mr Smellie, our second lieutenant, at once went aloft to the foretopmast crosstrees to have a look at it through his telescope. A single glance sufficed to acquaint him with the fact that the object, which was about six miles distant, was a raft with people upon it, who were making such signals as it was in their power to make with the object of attracting our attention. Upon the receipt of this news on deck Captain Vernon at once ordered the ship's course to be altered to the direction of the raft, a gun being fired and the ensign run up to the gaff-end at the same time. It was a trifle past noon when the _Daphne_ rounded-to about a hundred yards to windward of the raft, and sent away a boat to pick up those upon it. It was a wretched make-shift structure, composed of a spar or two, some half-burned hen-coops, and a few pieces of charred bulwark- planking; and was so small that there was scarcely room on it for the fourteen persons it sustained. It was a most fortunate circumstance for them that the weather happened to be fine at the time; for had there been any great amount of sea running, the crazy concern could not have been kept together for half an hour. We concluded from the appearance of the affair that the castaways had been burned out of their ship; and so they had, but not in the manner we supposed. As we closed with the raft it was seen that several sharks were cruising longingly round and round it, and occasionally charging at it, evidently in the hope of being able to drag off some of its occupants. So pertinacious were these ravenous fish that the boat's crew had to fairly fight their way through them, and even to beat them off with the oars and stretchers when they had got alongside. However, the poor wretches were rescued without accident; and in a quarter of an hour from the time of despatching the boat she was once more swinging at the davits, with the rescued men, most of whom were suffering more or less severely from burns, safely below in charge of the doctor and his assistant. Later on, when their injuries had been attended to and the cravings of their hunger and thirst satisfied--they had neither eaten nor drunk during the previous forty-two hours--Captain Vernon sent for the skipper of the rescued crew, to learn from him an account of the mishap. His story, as related to me by him during the second dog-watch, was to the following effect:-- "My name is Richards, and my ship, which hailed from Liverpool, was called the _Juliet_. She was a barque of three hundred and fifty tons register, oak built and copper fastened throughout, and was only five years old. "Fifty-four days ago to-day we cleared from Liverpool for Saint Paul de Loando with a cargo of Manchester and Birmingham goods, sailing the same day with the afternoon tide. "All went well with us until the day before last, when, just before eight bells in the afternoon watch, one of the hands, who had gone aloft to stow the main-topgallant-sail, reported a sail dead to leeward of us under a heavy press of canvas. I have been to Saint Paul twice before, and know pretty well the character of this coast; moreover, on my first trip I was boarded and plundered by a rascally Spaniard; so I thought I would just step up aloft and take a look at the stranger through my glass at once. Well, sir, I did so, and the conclusion I came to was, that though it was blowing very fresh I would give the ship every stitch of canvas I could show to it. The strange sail was a brig of about three hundred tons or thereabouts, with very taunt spars, a tremendous spread of canvas, and her hull painted dead black down to the copper, which had been scoured until it fairly shone again. I didn't at all like the appearance of my newly-discovered neighbour; the craft had a wicked look about her from her truck down, and the press of sail she was carrying seemed to bode me no good. So, as the _Juliet_ happened to be a pretty smart vessel under her canvas, and in splendid sailing trim, I thought I would do what I could to keep the stranger at arms'-length, and when the watch was called, a few minutes afterwards, I got the topgallant-sails, royals, flying jib, main-topgallant, royal, and mizen- topmast-staysails all on the old barkie again, and we began to smoke through it, I can tell you. That done, I set the stranger by compass, and for the first hour or so I thought we were holding our own; but by sunset I could see--a great deal too plainly for my own comfort--that the brig was both weathering and fore-reaching upon us. Still she was a long way off, and had the night been dark I should have tried to dodge the fellow; but that unfortunately was no use; the sun was no sooner set than the moon rose, and of course he could see us even more plainly than we could see him. At seven o'clock he tacked, and then I felt pretty sure he meant mischief; and when, at a little before eight bells, he tacked again, this time directly in our wake, I had no further doubt about it. At this time he was about eight miles astern of us, and at midnight he ranged up on our weather quarter, slapped his broadside of seven 18-pound shot right into us without a word of warning, and ordered us to at once heave-to. My owners had unfortunately sent me to sea with only half a dozen muskets on board, and not an ounce of powder or shot; so what could I do? Nothing, of course, but heave-to as I was bid; and we accordingly backed the main topsail without a moment's delay. The brig then did the same, and lowered a boat, which five minutes later dashed alongside us and threw in upon our decks a crew of seventeen as bloodthirsty-looking ruffians as one need ever wish to see. We were, all hands fore and aft, at once bound neck and heels and huddled together aft on the monkey-poop, with two of the pirates mounting guard over us, and then the rest of the gang coolly set to work and ransacked the ship. The fellow in command of the party--a man about five feet six inches in height, square built, with deeply bronzed features and black hair and beard--made it his first business to hunt for the manifest; and having ascertained from it that we had amongst the cargo several bolts of canvas, a large quantity of new rope, four cases of watches and jewellery, and a dozen cases of beads, he first ordered me, in broken English, to inform him where these articles were stowed, and then had the hatches stripped off and the cargo roused on deck until he could get at them. When the beads, rope, canvas, and other matters that he took a fancy to, amounting to six boat loads, had been transferred to the brig, he informed me that I must point out to him the spot where I had concealed the money which he knew to be on board. Now it so happened that I had _no_ money on board; my owners are dreadfully suspicious people, and will not intrust _anybody_ with a shilling more than they can help--and many a good fifty-pound note has missed its way into their pockets through their over-cautiousness; but that's neither here nor there. Well, I told the fellow we had no money on board, whereupon he whipped out his watch and told me out loud, so that all hands could hear, that he would give us five minutes in which to make up our minds whether we would hand over the cash or not; and if we decided _not_ to do so he would at the end of that time set fire to the ship and leave us all to burn in her. And that's just exactly what he did." "He actually set fire to the ship!" said I. "But of course he cast you all adrift first, and gave you at least a _chance_ to save your lives?" "I'll tell you what he did, sir," replied the merchant-skipper. "When the five minutes had expired he called for a lantern, and, when he had got it, went round and examined each man's lashings with his own eyes and hands, so as to make sure that we were all secure to his satisfaction. Then he ordered half-a-dozen bales of cotton goods to be cut open and strewed about the cabin; poured oil, turpentine, and tar over them; did the same down in the forecastle; and then capsized a cask of tar and a can of turpentine over the most inflammable goods he could put his hand upon down in the main hatchway; had the bottoms of all the boats knocked out; took away all the oars; and then set fire to the ship forward, aft, and in midships; after which he wished us all a warm journey into the next world, and went deliberately down the side into his boat. The brig stood by us until we were fairly in flames fore and aft, and then filled away on the starboard tack under all the canvas she could show to it, leaving us there to perish miserably." "And how did you manage to effect your escape after all?" I inquired. "Well, sir," the skipper replied, "the ship--as you may imagine, with a cargo such as we had on board--burned like a torch. In less than five minutes after the pirates had shoved off from our side the flames were darting up through companion, hatchway, and fore-scuttle, and in a quarter of an hour she was all ablaze. Luckily for us, the ship, left to herself, had paid off before the wind, and the flames were therefore blown for'ard; but the deck upon which we were lying soon became so hot as to be quite unbearable; we were literally beginning to roast alive, and were in momentary expectation that the deck would fall in and drop us helplessly into the raging furnace below. At last, driven to desperation by the torture of mind and body from which I was suffering, I managed to roll over on my other side; and there, within an inch of my mouth, was a man's hands, lashed, like my own, firmly behind his back, and his ankles drawn close up to them. The idea seized me to try and _gnaw_ through his lashings and so free him, when of course he would soon be able to cast us adrift in return. I shouted to him what I intended to do, and then set to work with my teeth upon his bonds, gnawing away for dear life. When my teeth first came into contact with the firm hard rope I thought I should never be able to do it--at least not in time to save us--but a man never knows what he can do until he tries in earnest, as I did then; and I actually succeeded, and in a few minutes too, in eating my way through one turn of the lashings. The man then strained and tugged until he managed to free himself, after which it was the work of a few minutes only to liberate the rest of us. We then hastily collected together such materials as we could first lay our hands on, and with them constructed the raft off which you took us. It was a terribly crazy affair, but we had no time to make a better one. And of course, as the ship was by that time a mass of fire fore and aft, it was impossible for us to secure an atom of provisions of any kind, or a single drop of water." "What a story of fiendish cruelty!" I ejaculated when Richards had finished his story. "By the by," I suddenly added, moved by an impulse which I could neither analyse nor account for, "of what nationality was the leader of the pirates? Do you think he was a _Frenchman_?" "Yes, sir, I believe he _was_, although he addressed his men in Spanish," answered Richards in some surprise. "Why do you ask, sir? Have you ever fallen in with such a man as I have described him to be?" "Well, ye--that is, not to my knowledge," I replied hesitatingly. The fact is that Richards' description of the pirate leader had somehow brought vividly before my minds' eye the personality of Monsieur Le Breton, the first lieutenant of the French gun-brig _Vestale_; and it was this which doubtless prompted me to put the absurd question to my companion as to the nationality of the man who had so inhumanly treated him. Not, it must be understood, that I seriously for a single instant associated Monsieur Le Breton or the _Vestale_ with the diabolical act of piracy to the account of which I had just listened. We had at that time no very great love of or respect for the French, it is true; but even the most bigoted of Englishmen would, I think, have hesitated to hint at the possibility of a French man-of-war being the perpetrator of such a deed. The mere idea, the bare suggestion of such a suspicion, was so absurd that I laughed at myself for my folly in allowing it to obtrude itself, even in the most intangible form, for a single moment on my mind. And yet, such is the perversity of the human intellect, I could not, in spite of myself, quite get rid of the extravagant idea that Monsieur Le Breton was in some inexplicable way cognisant of the outrage; nor could I forbear sketching, for Richards' benefit, as accurate a word-portrait as I could of the French lieutenant; and--I suppose on account of that same perversity--I felt no surprise whatever when he assured me that I had faithfully described to him the arch-pirate who had left him and his crew to perish in the flames. Indeed, in my then contradictory state of mind I should have been disappointed had he said otherwise. The man's conduct--his stealthy but searching scrutiny of the ship; his endeavour, as I regarded it, to mislead us with his broken English; and his excessive curiosity, as hinted at by Captain Vernon, had struck me as peculiar, to say the least of it, on the occasion of his visit to the _Daphne_. I had suspected _then_ that he was not altogether and exactly what he pretended to be; and _now_ Richards' identification of him from my description seemed to confirm, in a great measure, my instinctive suspicions, unreasonable, extravagant, and absurd as I admitted them to be. My first impulse--and it was a very strong one--was to take Mr Austin into my confidence, to unfold to him my suspicions and the circumstances which had given rise to them, frankly admitting at the same time their apparent enormity, and then to put the question to him whether, in his opinion, there was the slightest possibility of those suspicions being well-founded. So strongly, so unaccountably was I urged to do this, that I had actually set out to find the first lieutenant when reflection and common sense came to my aid and asked me what was this thing that I was about to do. The answer to this question was, that with the self-sufficiency and stupendous conceit which my father had especially cautioned me to guard against, I was arrogating to myself the possession of superhuman sagacity, and (upon the flimsy foundation of a wild and extravagant fancy, backed by a mere chance resemblance, which after all might prove to be no resemblance at all if Richards could once be confronted with Monsieur Le Breton) was about to insinuate a charge of the most atrocious character against an officer holding a responsible and honourable position--a man who doubtless was the soul of honour and rectitude. A moment's reflection sufficed to convince me of the utter impossibility of the same man being in command of a pirate-brig one day and an officer of a French man-o'-war the next. I might just as reasonably have suspected the _Vestale_ herself of piracy; and _that_, I well knew, would be carrying my suspicions to the uttermost extremity of idiotic absurdity. I had, in short--so I finally decided--discovered a mare's nest, and upon the strength of it had been upon the very verge of proclaiming myself a hopeless idiot and making myself the perpetual laughing-stock of the whole ship. I congratulated myself most heartily upon having paused in time, and resolved very determinedly that I would not further dwell upon the subject, or allow myself to be again lured into entertaining such superlatively ridiculous notions. Yet only four days later I was harassed by a temporary recurrence of all my suspicions; and it was with the utmost difficulty that I combated them. I succeeded, it is true, in so far maintaining my self-control as to keep a silent tongue; but they continued persistently to haunt me until--but steady! Whither away, Dick, my lad? You are out of your course altogether and luffing into the wind's eye, instead of working steadily to windward, tack and tack, and taking the incidents of your story as you come to them. The incident which revived my very singular suspicions was as follows:-- Upon learning the full details of Richards' story, Captain Vernon had come to the conclusion that the brig which destroyed the _Juliet_ was a vessel devoted to the combined pursuits of piracy and slave-trading; that she was, in all probability, one of the three vessels reported by the _Fawn_ as daily-expected to arrive on the coast from Cuba; and that it was more than likely her destination was the Congo. He therefore determined to make the best of his way back to that river, in the sanguine hope of effecting her capture; after which he intended to run down to Saint Paul de Loando to land the crew of the _Juliet_, Richards having expressed a desire to be taken there if possible. It was on the fourth day after we had picked up the _Juliet's_ crew, and we were working our way back toward the mouth of the Congo, making short tacks across the track of vessels running the notorious Middle Passage, when the look-out aloft reported a sail about three points on the weather-bow, running down toward us under a perfect cloud of canvas. It was at once conjectured that this might be Richards' late free-and-easy acquaintance outward-bound with a cargo of slaves on board; and the _Daphne_ was accordingly kept away a couple of points to intercept him, the hands being ordered to hold themselves in readiness to jump aloft and make sail on the instant that the stranger gave the slightest sign of an intention to avoid us. At the same time Mr Armitage, our third lieutenant, proceeded aloft to the main topmast crosstrees with his telescope to maintain a vigilant watch upon the motions of the approaching vessel. All hands were of course in an instant on the _qui vive_, the momentary expectation being that the stranger would shorten sail, haul upon a wind, and endeavour to evade us. But minute after minute passed without the slightest indication of any such intention, and very shortly his royals rose into view above the horizon from the deck; then followed his topgallant-sails, then his topsails, his courses next, and finally the hull of the ship appeared upon the horizon, with studding-sails alow and aloft on both sides, running down dead before the wind, and evidently going through the water at a tremendous pace. Every available telescope in the ship was now brought to bear upon the craft, and presently her fore-royal and fore-topgallant-sail were observed to collapse, the yards slid down the mast, and the sails were clewed up, but not furled. The next instant the French tricolour fluttered out from her fore-royal-mast-head, the only position from whence it could be made visible to us; and simultaneously with its appearance the conviction came to us all that in the approaching vessel we were about to recognise our recent acquaintance the _Vestale_. Our ensign, which was already bent on to the peak-halyards, was promptly run up in response, whereupon the French ensign disappeared, to be instantly replaced by a string of signals. Our signal-book was at once produced, our answering pennant run half-mast up, and we then began to read off the following signal: "Have you sighted?--" Our pennant was then mast-headed to show that we understood; the flags disappeared on board the Frenchman, and another batch was run up, which, being interpreted, meant: "Brig--" This also was acknowledged, and the signalling was continued until the whole message was completed, thus: "Same tonnage as--" "Ourselves--" "Hull--" "Painted--" "All black--" "Steering west-north-west?" The final string of flags then disappeared, and the _Vestale's_ answering pennant directly afterwards showed just above her topgallant yard, indicating that she had completed her signal and awaited our reply. The entire signal then, freely interpreted, ran thus: "Have you sighted a brig of the same tonnage (or size) as ourselves, with hull painted all black, steering a west-north-west course?" We answered "No;" and, in our turn, inquired whether the _Vestale_ had seen or heard of such a craft. The French gun-brig was by this time crossing our bows, distant about half a mile; her reply was accordingly made from her gaff-end, the fore- topgallant-sail and royal being at the same time sheeted-home and mast- headed. It was to the following effect: "Yes. Brig in question sailed from Congo yesterday, six hours before our arrival, with three hundred slaves on board." By the time that this message had been communicated--by the slow and tedious process then in vogue--the two vessels were too far apart to render any further conversation possible, and in little more than an hour after the final hauling-down of the last signal the _Vestale's_ main-royal sank beneath the verge of the western horizon, and we were once more alone. CHAPTER SIX. IN THE CONGO ONCE MORE. I have not yet, however, stated what it was in connection with our encounter with the _Vestale_ which served to fan my fantastic suspicions into flame anew, and, I may add too at the same time, mould them into a more definite shape than they had ever before taken. It was Richards' peculiar conduct and remarks. He had manifested quite an extraordinary amount of interest in our _rencontre_ with the _Vestale_ from the moment of her being first reported from the mast- head, evidently sharing the hope and belief, which we all at first entertained, that the strange sail would turn out to be the brig which had served him so scurvy a trick a few days before. It was easy to understand the excitement he exhibited so long as this remained a matter of conjecture, but when the conjecture proved to be unfounded I fully expected his excitement, if not his interest, would wane. It did not, however. He borrowed my telescope as soon as the brig became fully visible from the deck, and, placing himself at an open port, kept the tube of the instrument levelled at her until her topsails disappeared below the horizon again. I remained close beside him during the whole time, and his excitement and perplexity were so palpable that I could not refrain from questioning him as to the cause. "I'll tell you, Mr Hawkesley," he replied. "You see that craft there? Well, I could almost stake my soul that she and the pirate-brig were built on the same stocks. The two craft are the same size to a ton, I'll swear that; and they are the same model and the same rig to a nicety. It's true I was only able to closely inspect the other craft at night-time, but it was by brilliant moonlight, and I was able to note every detail of her build, rig, and equipment almost as plainly as I now can that of the brig before us; and the two are sister-ships. They carry the same number of guns--ay, even to the long-gun I see there on the French brig's forecastle. The masts in both ships have the same rake, the yards the same spread, and the running-gear is rove and led in exactly the same manner. The only difference I can distinguish between the two ships is that yonder brig has a broad white ribbon round her, and a small figure-head painted white, whilst the pirate-craft was painted black down to her copper, and she carried a large black figure- head representing a negress with a gaudy scarf wrapped about her waist." "Um!" I remarked. "Lend me the glass a moment, will you? Thanks!" The _Vestale_ was, at the moment, just about to cross our fore-foot, and was therefore about as near to us as she would be at all I focused the telescope--a fine powerful instrument--upon her, and could clearly see the weather-stains and the yellowish-red marks of rust in the wake of her chain-plates upon the broad white ribbon which stretched along her side. Evidently that band of white paint had been exposed to sun and storm for many a long day. Then I had a look at her figure-head. It was a half-length model of a female figure, beautifully carved, less than life-size, with one arm drooping gracefully downwards, and the other--the right--outstretched, with a gilded lamp in the right hand. That, too, was weather-stained, and the gilding tarnished by long exposure. Those pertinacious, half-formed suspicions, which Richards' words had stirred into new life were refuted; and yet, as I have said, I could _not_ shake them off, try as I would, and argue with myself as I would, that they were utterly ridiculous and unreasonable. "Look here, Mr Richards," said I; "if you really _are_ as positive upon this matter as you say, I wish you would speak to Captain Vernon about it; it might--and no doubt _would_--help us very materially in effecting the capture of the pirate-brig. We have seen the _Vestale_ twice, and have had so good an opportunity to note her peculiarities of structure and equipment that we shall now know her again as far off as we can see her. If, therefore, we should ever happen to fall in with a brig the exact counterpart of the _Vestale_ in all respects, except as to the matters of her figure-head and the painting of her hull, I should think we may take it for granted that that brig will undoubtedly be the pirate which destroyed the _Juliet_. And you may depend upon it, my good sir, that it is that identical craft that the _Vestale_ is now seeking." "Ye-es, very likely--quite possible," he replied hesitatingly, and evidently still labouring under the feeling of perplexity I had noticed. Then, straightening himself up and passing his hand across his forehead, as though to clear away the mental cobwebs there, he added: "I'll go and speak to Captain Vernon about it at once." And away he accordingly walked to carry out his resolve. We stood on as we were going until eight bells in the afternoon watch that day, when the ship was hove round on the larboard tack and a course shaped for Saint Paul de Loando, our skipper having come to the conclusion that the brig referred to in the _Vestale's_ signal was undoubtedly the craft which we had been on our way back to the Congo to look for, and that as, according to the gun-brig's statement, she was no longer there, we were now free to proceed direct to Saint Paul to land the burnt-out crew as soon as possible. We entered the bay--upon the shore of which the town is built--about 10 a.m. on the second day after our last meeting with the _Vestale_, and, anchoring in ten fathoms, lowered a boat, in which Mr Richards and his crew were landed, Captain Vernon going on shore with them. The skipper remained on shore until 4 p.m., and when he came off it was easy to see that he was deeply preoccupied. The boat was at once hoisted in, the messenger passed, the anchor hove up, and away we went again, crowding sail for the Congo. As soon as the ship was clear of the Loando reef and fairly at sea once more, Captain Vernon summoned the first and second lieutenants to his cabin, where the three remained closeted with him for some time, indeed the two officers dined with him; but, whatever the matter might be, neither Mr Austin nor Mr Smellie let fall a word as to its nature, though it was evident from their manner that it was deemed of considerable import. When I turned in that night I felt very greatly dissatisfied with myself. Those outrageous suspicions, upon which I have dwelt so much in the last few pages, seemed to be gathering new strength every day in spite of my utmost endeavours to dissipate them, and that, too, without the occurrence of anything fresh to confirm them. I accordingly took myself severely to task; subjected myself to a rigid self-examination, looking the matter square in the face; and the conclusions to which I came were--first, that I had allowed myself to be deluded into the belief that the _Vestale_ herself was the craft which had committed the act of piracy of which poor Richards and his crew were the victims; and second, that I had been an unmitigated idiot for suffering myself to be so deluded. On going thoroughly over the whole question I was forced to admit to myself that there was not a particle of evidence incriminating the French gun-brig save what I had manufactured out of my own too vivid imagination; and I clearly foresaw that unless I could get rid of, or, at all events, conquer, this hallucination, I should be doing or saying something which would get me into a serious scrape. And, having at last thus settled the question--as I thought--to my own satisfaction, I rolled over in my hammock and went to sleep. The breeze held fresh during the whole of that night; and the _Daphne_ made such good progress that by eight o'clock on the following morning we found ourselves once more abreast of Padron Point at the entrance to the Congo. Sail was now shortened; the ship hove-to, and the men sent to their breakfasts; the officers also being requested to get theirs at the same time. At 8:30 the hands were turned up, the main topsail filled, and, under topsails, jib, and spanker, and with a leadsman in the fore-chains on each side, the sloop proceeded boldly to enter the river, under the pilotage of the master, who stationed himself for the purpose on the fore-topsail yard. This was a most unusual, almost an un-heard-of, proceeding at that time, the river never having been, up to that period, properly surveyed; so we came to the conclusion that there was something to the fore a trifle out of the common; a conclusion which was very fully verified a little later on. It was just low water as we came abreast of Shark Point--which we passed at a distance of about a mile--but we found plenty of water everywhere; and, stretching across the river's mouth, the _Daphne_ finally entered Banana Creek, and anchored in six fathoms close to a smart-looking little barque of unquestionable American nationality. The sails were furled, the yards squared, ropes coiled down, and decks cleared up; and then the first cutter was piped away, Mr Smellie at the same time receiving a summons to the skipper's cabin. The conference between the captain and the second lieutenant was but a short one; and when the latter again appeared on deck he beckoned me to him and instructed me to don my dirk, as I was to accompany him on a visit to the barque. Just as we were about to go down over the side Captain Vernon appeared on deck, and, addressing the second "luff," said. "Whatever you do, Mr Smellie, keep my caution in mind, and do not provoke the man. Remember, that if he _is_ an American--of which I have very little doubt--we cannot touch him, even if he has his hold full of slaves; so be as civil to him as you can, please; and get all the information you can out of him." "Ay, ay, sir; I'll do my best to stroke his fur the right way, never fear," answered Smellie laughingly; and away we went. A couple of minutes later we shot alongside the barque; and Smellie and I clambered up her side-ladder to the deck, where we were received by a lanky cadaverous-looking individual arrayed in a by no means spotless suit of white nankin topped by a very dilapidated broad-brimmed Panama straw-hat. "Mornin', gentlemen," observed this individual, in response to our salutation; "powerful hot; ain't it?" "Very," returned Smellie in his most amicable manner, "but"--pointing to the awning spread fore and aft, "I see you know how to make yourselves comfortable. Your ship, I observe, is called the _Pensacola_ of New Orleans. I have come on board to go through the formality of looking at your papers. You have no objection, I presume?" "Nary objection, stranger. Look at 'em and welcome," was the reply. "I guess I'll have to trouble you to come below, though." With this he led the way down the companion-ladder, and we followed; eventually bringing-up on the comfortably-cushioned lockers of a fine spacious airy cabin very nicely fitted up. Seating himself opposite us, the skipper struck a hand-bell which stood on the cabin table; in response to which summons a black steward, clad, like his master, in dingy white, made his appearance from the neighbouring pantry. Our host thereupon formed his right hand into the shape of a cup and raised it to his mouth, at the same time exhibiting three fingers of his left hand; and the steward, nodding and grinning his comprehension of the mute order, withdrew, to reappear next moment with a case-bottle of rum, three glasses, and a water-monkey, or porous earthen jar, full of what proved, on our pouring it out, to be a very doubtful-looking liquid. "Help yourselves, gentlemen," said our host, pushing the rum-bottle and water-monkey towards us. "I ain't got no wine aboard to offer you, but the liquor is real old Jamaica, and the water is genuine Mississippi; they make a first-grade mixture. But perhaps you prefer to take your liquor `straight;' I always do." And he forthwith practically illustrated the process of taking liquor "straight" by half-filling his tumbler with neat rum, which he swallowed at a single gulp. He then rose and retired to his state-room in search of his papers; leaving us to sip our five-water grog meanwhile. The papers were produced, examined, and found to be perfectly correct; after which Smellie set himself to the task of "pumping" our new acquaintance; without much result, though we certainly managed to obtain one bit of valuable information from him. "Whether there's slavers or no in this rivulet, I'll just leave you to find out, stranger," he remarked, in answer to a question of Smellie's; "I'm here about my own business, and you're here about yourn; you can't interfere with me; and I won't interfere with you. But I don't mind tellin' you that if you'd been here five days ago you'd have had a chance of nabbin' the _Black Venus_, the smartest slaver, I guess, that's ever visited this section of our sublunary sphere." "Indeed!" exclaimed Smellie eagerly. "What sort of a craft is she? What is she like?" "She is a brig,"--I pricked up my ears at this, and so, too, I could see, did Smellie--"of about three hundred tons register; long, and low in the water; mounts fourteen guns, seven of a side, and a long 32- pounder on her forecastle. Has very tall sticks, with a rake aft; and a tremendous spread of `caliker.' And she's the fastest craft in all creation. _Your_ ship looks as if she could travel; but I 'low she ain't a carcumstance to the _Black Venus_." "How is she painted?" asked Smellie. "Is she all black, or does she sometimes sport a white riband?" "Aha!" thought I; "that looks as though my suspicions are at last shared by somebody else. Richards' communication to the skipper has surely borne fruit." "Wall," replied the Yankee with a knowing twinkle in his eye, "_when she sailed from here_ she was black right down to her copper. But that ain't much to go by; I guess her skipper knows a trick or two." "You think, then, he might alter her appearance as soon as he got outside?" insinuated Smellie. "He might--and he mightn't," was the cautious reply. "Um!" observed Smellie. Then, as if inspired with a sudden suspicion, he asked: "Have you seen any men-o'-war in here lately?" I could see by the knowing look in our Yankee friend's eyes that he read poor Smellie like a book. "Wall," he replied. "Come to speak of it, there _was_ a brig in here a few days ago that looked like a man-o'-war. She were flyin' French colours--when she flew any at all--and called herself the _Vestale_." "Ah!" ejaculated Smellie. "Did any of her people board you?" "You bet!" was the somewhat ambiguous answer. Not that the reply was at all ambiguous in itself; it was the peculiar emphasis with which the words were spoken, and the peculiar expression of the man's countenance as he uttered them, which constituted the ambiguity; the _words_ simply implied that the _Pensacola_ had been boarded; the _look_ spoke volumes, but the volumes were written in an unknown tongue, so far as we at least were concerned. "What is the _Vestale_ like?" was Smellie's next question. "Just as like the _Black Venus_ as two peas in a pod," was the reply, given with evident quiet amusement. "And how was _she_ painted?" persisted Smellie. "Ah, there now, stranger, you've puzzled me!" was the unexpected answer. "Why? Did you not say you saw her?" queried Smellie sharply. "No, I guess not; I didn't say anything of the sort. I was ashore when her people boarded me. It was my mate that told me about it." "Your mate? Can we see him?" exclaimed Smellie eagerly. "Yes, I reckon," was the reply. "He's ashore now; but you've only to pull about five miles up the creek, and I calculate you'll find him somewheres." "Thanks!" answered Smellie. "I'm afraid we can't spare the time for that. Can you tell me which of the two brigs--the _Vestale_ or the _Black Venus_--sailed first from the river?" "Wall, stranger, I'd like to help you all I could, I really would; but," with his hand wandering thoughtfully over his forehead, "I really _can't_ for the life of me remember just now which of 'em it was." The fellow was lying; I could see it, and so could Smellie; but we could not, of course, tell him so; and we accordingly thanked him for his information and rose to go, with an uncomfortable feeling that we had received certain information, part of which was probably true whilst part was undoubtedly false, and that we were wholly without the means of distinguishing the one from the other. We returned to the _Daphne_ with our information, such as it was; and Smellie at once made his report to the skipper. A consultation followed in which the first lieutenant took part, and at the end of half an hour the three officers reappeared on deck, and the captain's gig was piped away. Being suspicious, as I have already remarked, that something unusual was brewing, I remained on deck during the progress of this conference, so as to be at hand in the event of my services being required; and the _Pensacola_ happening to be the most prominent object in the landscape, she naturally came in for a large share of my attention during the progress of the discussion above referred to. She was flying no colours when we anchored in such close proximity to her, a circumstance which I attributed to the fact that she was, to all appearance, the only vessel in the river, and I was, therefore, not much surprised when, a short time after our visit to her, I observed her skipper go aft and run up the American ensign to his gaff-end. But I _was_ a little surprised when he followed this up by hoisting a small red swallow-tailed flag to his main-royal-mast-head. I asked myself what could be the meaning of this move on his part, and it did not take me very long to arrive at the conclusion that it was undoubtedly meant as a signal of some sort to somebody or other. He was scarcely likely to do such a thing for the gratification of a mere whim. And if it was a signal, what did it mean's and to whom was it made? There was of course the possibility that it was a prearranged signal to his absent mate; but, taken in conjunction with the fact that it was exhibited almost immediately after our visit to his ship, coupled with the other fact of his obvious attempt to keep us in the dark with respect to certain matters, I was greatly disposed to regard it rather as a warning signal to a vessel or vessels concealed in one or other of the numerous creeks which we knew to exist in our immediate vicinity. Accordingly, on the reappearance of the second lieutenant on deck, I stepped up to him and directed his attention to the suspicious-looking red flag, and mentioned my surmises as to its meaning. "Thank you, Mr Hawkesley," said he. "I have no doubt it _is_ a signal of some kind; but what it means we have no possible method of ascertaining, and, moreover, it suits our purpose just now to take no notice of it. By the way, are you anything of a shot?" "Pretty fair," I replied. "I can generally bring down a bird upon the wing if it is not a very long shot." "Then put your pistols in your belt, provide yourself with a fowling- piece (I will lend you one), and be in readiness to go with us in the gig. We are bound upon a sporting expedition." I needed no second invitation, but hurried away at once to make the necessary preparations; albeit there was a something in Mr Smellie's manner which led me to think that sport was perhaps after all a mere pretext, and that the actual object of our cruise was something much more serious. A few minutes sufficed to complete my preparations, and when I again stepped on deck, gun in hand, Captain Vernon and Mr Smellie were standing near the gangway rather ostentatiously engaged--in full view of the American skipper--in examining their gun-locks, snapping off caps, and so on; whilst the steward was in the act of passing down over the side--with strict injunctions to those in the boat to be careful in the handling of it--a capacious basket of provisions with a snow-white cloth protruding out over its sides. The precious basket being at length safely deposited in the gig's stern-sheets, I followed it down the side; the second lieutenant came next, and the skipper bringing up the rear, we hoisted our lug-sail, the sea-breeze blowing strongly up the river, and shoved off; our motions being intently scrutinised by the Yankee skipper as long as we could make him out. We had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile before a noble crane came sailing across our course with his head tucked in between his shoulders, his long stilt-like legs projecting astern of him, and his slowly- flapping wings almost touching the water at every stroke. "There's a chance for you, Hawkesley," exclaimed our genial second luff; "let drive at him. All is fish that comes to our net so long as we are within range of the Yankee's telescope; fire at everything you see." I raised my gun, pulled the trigger, and down dropped the crane into the water with a broken wing. "Very neatly done," exclaimed the skipper approvingly. "Pick up the bird, Thomson,"--to the coxswain. The unfortunate bird was duly picked up and hauled into the boat, though not without inflicting a rather severe wound with its long sharp beak on the hand of the man who grasped it; and we continued our course. On reaching the mouth of the creek we hauled sharp round the projecting point, and shaped a course up and across toward the opposite side of the stream, steering for a low densely-wooded spit which jutted out into the river some eight miles distant. The tide, which was rising, was in our favour, and in an hour from the time of emerging from the creek into the main stream we had reached our destination; the boat shot into a water- way about a cable's length in width, the sail was lowered, the mast unstepped, and the men, taking to their oars, proceeded to paddle the boat gently up the creek. We proceeded up this creek a distance of about two miles, when, coming suddenly upon a small branch, or tributary, well suited as a place of concealment for the boat, she was headed into it, and--after proceeding along the narrow canal for a distance of perhaps one hundred yards-- hauled alongside the bank and secured. CHAPTER SEVEN. MR. SMELLIE MAKES A LITTLE SURVEY. Giving the gig's crew strict injunctions not to leave their boat for a moment upon any consideration, but to hold themselves in readiness to shove off on the instant of our rejoining them--should a precipitate retreat prove necessary--Captain Vernon and Mr Smellie stepped ashore with a request that I would accompany them. The channel or canal in which the gig was now lying was about fifty feet wide, with a depth of water of about eight feet at the point to which we had reached. Its banks were composed of soft black foetid mud in a semi-liquid state, _so_ that in order to land it was necessary for us to make our way as best we could for a distance of some two hundred feet over the roots of the mangrove trees which thickly bordered the stream, before we were enabled to place our feet on solid ground. Beyond the belt of mangroves the soil was densely covered with that heterogeneous jumble of parasitic creepers of all descriptions spoken of in Africa by the generic denomination of "bush," thickly interspersed with trees, many of which were of large size. Path there was none, not even the faintest traces of a footprint in the dry sandy soil to show that humanity had ever passed over the ground before us. It may be that ours _were_ the first human footsteps which had ever pressed the soil in that particular spot; at all events it looked very much like it, and we had not travelled one hundred feet before we became fully impressed with the necessity for carefully marking our route if we had the slightest desire to find our way back again. This task was intrusted to me, and I accomplished it by cutting a twig half through, and then bending it downwards until a long light strip of the inner wood was exposed. This I did at distances of about a yard apart all along our route, whilst the skipper and Smellie went ahead and forced a passage for the party through the thick undergrowth. The general direction of our route was about south-south-west, as nearly as the skipper could hit it off with the aid of a pocket-compass, and it took us more than two hours to accomplish a journey of as many miles through the thick tangled undergrowth. This brought us out close to the water's edge again, and we saw before us a canal about a cable's length across, which the skipper said he was certain was a continuation of the one we had entered in the gig. About a mile distant, on the opposite side of the canal, could be seen the tops of the hills which we had noticed on the occasion of our first exploration of the river. Here, as at the point of our landing, the banks of the canal consisted of black slimy foetid mud, out of which grew a belt of mangroves, their curious twisted roots straggling in a thick complicated mass of net-work over the slime beneath. The sun was shining brilliantly down through the richly variegated foliage on the opposite bank of the stream, and lighting up the surface of the thick turbid water as it rolled sluggishly past; but where we stood--just on the inner edge of the mangrove-swamp--everything was enshrouded in a sombre green twilight, and an absolute silence prevailed all round us, which was positively oppressive in its intensity. Breathless, perspiring, and exhausted with our unwonted exertions, we flung ourselves upon the ground for a moment's rest, during which the skipper and Smellie sought solace and refreshment in a cigar. As for me, not having at that time contracted the habit of smoking, I was contented to sit still and gaze with admiring eyes upon the weird beauty of my surroundings. For perhaps a quarter of an hour my companions gave themselves up to the silent enjoyment of their cigars, but at the end of that time the skipper, turning to Smellie, said: "I think this must be the creek to which we have been directed; but there are so many of these inlets, creeks, and canals on this side of the river--and on the other side also for that matter--that one cannot be at all certain about it. I would have explored the place thoroughly in the gig, and so have saved the labour of all this scrambling through the bush, but for the fact that if we are right, and any slave-craft happen to be lurking here--as our Yankee friend's suspicious conduct leads me to believe may be the case--there would be a great risk of our stumbling upon them unawares, and so giving them the alarm. And even if we escaped that mischance I have no doubt but that they keep sentinels posted here and there on the look-out, and we could hardly hope that the boat would escape being sighted by one or other of them. If there _are_ any craft hereabout, we may rest assured that they are fully aware of the presence of the _Daphne_ in the river; but I am in hopes that our _ruse_ of openly starting as upon a sporting expedition has thrown dust in their eyes for once, and that we may be able to steal near enough to get a sight of them without exciting their suspicions." "It would be worth all our trouble if we _amid_ do so," responded Smellie. "But I don't half like this blind groping about in the bush; to say nothing of the tremendously hard work which it involves there is a very good chance, it seems to me, of our losing ourselves when we attempt to make our way back. And then, again, we are quite uncertain how much further we may have to go in order to complete our search satisfactorily. Do you not think it would be a good plan for one of us to shin up a tree and take a look round before we go any further? There are some fine tall trees here close at hand, from the higher branches of which one ought to be able to get a pretty extensive view." "A very capital idea!" assented the skipper. "We will act upon it at once. There, now," pointing to a perfect forest giant only a few yards distant, "is a tree admirably suited to our purpose. Come, Mr Hawkesley, you are the youngest, and ought therefore to be the most active of the trio; give us a specimen of your tree-climbing powers. Just shin up aloft as high as you can go, take a good look round, and let us know if you can see anything worth looking at." "Ay ay, sir," I responded; "but--" with a somewhat blank look at the tall, straight, smooth stem to which he pointed, "where are the ratlines?" "Ratlines, you impudent young monkey!" responded the skipper with a laugh; "why, an active young fellow like you ought to make nothing of going up a spar like that." But when we reached the tree it became evident that the task of climbing it was not likely to prove so easy as the skipper had imagined; for the bole was fully fifteen feet in circumference, with not a branch or protuberance of any description for the first sixty feet. The second lieutenant, however, was equal to the occasion, and soon showed me how the thing might be done. Whipping out his knife, he quickly cut a long length of "monkey-rope" or creeper, and twisting the tough pliant stem into a grummet round the trunk of the tree, he bade me pass the bight over my shoulders, and then showed me how, with its aid, I might work myself gradually upward. Accordingly, acting under his directions I placed myself within the bight, and tucking it well up under my arm-pits, slid the grummet up the trunk as high as it would go. Then bearing back upon it, so that it supported my whole weight, I worked my body upwards by pressing against the tree-trunk with my knees. By this means I rose about two feet from the ground. Then pressing against the tree firmly with my feet I gave the grummet a quick jerk upward and again worked myself up the trunk with my knees as before. In this way I got along very well, and after an awkward slip or two, in which my knees suffered somewhat and my breeches still more, soon acquired the knack of the thing, and speedily reached the lowermost branch, after which the rest of my ascent was of course easy. On reaching the topmost branches I found that the tree I had climbed was indeed, as the skipper had aptly described it, a forest giant; it was by far the most lofty tree in the neighbourhood, and from my commanding position I had a fine uninterrupted prospect of many miles extent all round me, except to the southward, where the chain of hills before- mentioned shut in the view. Away to the northward and eastward, in which direction I happened to be facing when I at length paused to look around me, I could catch glimpses of the river, over and between the intervening tree-tops, for a distance of quite twenty miles, and from what I saw I came to the conclusion that in that direction the river must widen out considerably and be thickly studded with islands, among which I thought it probable might be found many a snug lurking-place for slave-craft. On the extreme verge of the horizon I also distinctly made out a small group of hills, which I conjectured to be situate on the northern or right bank of the river. From these hills all the way round northerly, to about north-north-west, the country was flat and pretty well covered with bush; although at a distance of from two to four miles inland I could detect here and there large open patches of grass-land. Bearing about north-north-west from my point of observation was another chain of hills which stretched along the sea-coast outside the river's mouth, and extended beyond the horizon. To the left of them again, or about north-west from me, lay Banana Creek, its entrance about eleven miles distant, and over the intervening tree-tops on Boolambemba Island I could, so clear was the atmosphere just then, distinctly make out the royal-mast-heads of the _Daphne_ and the American barque; I could even occasionally detect the gleam of the sloop's pennant as it waved idly in the sluggish breeze. Still further to the left there lay the river's mouth, with the ripple which marked the junction between the fresh and the salt water clearly visible. Next came Shark Point, with the open sea stretching mile after mile away beyond it, until its gleaming surface became lost in the ruddy afternoon haze, and on the inner side of the point I could trace, without much difficulty, the course of the various creeks which we had explored in the boat on the occasion of our first visit. Looking below me, I allowed my eye to travel along the course of the stream or canal which flowed past almost under my feet, and following it along I saw that it forked at a point about three miles to the westward, and turned suddenly northward at a point about three miles further on, the branch and the stream itself eventually joining the river, and forming with it two islands of about five and three miles in length respectively, the larger of the two being that which we had so laboriously crossed that same afternoon. The view which lay spread out below and around me was beautiful as a dream; it would have formed a fascinating study for a painter; but whatever art-instincts may have been awakened within me upon my first glance round were quickly put to flight by a scene which presented itself at a point only some three miles away. At that distance the channel or stream below me forked, as I have already said, and at the point of divergence of the two branches the water way broadened out until it became quite a mile wide, forming as snug a little harbour as one need wish to see. And in this harbour, perfectly concealed from all prying eyes which might happen to pass up or down the river, lay a brig, a brigantine, and a schooner, three as rakish-looking craft as could well be met with. Their appearance alone was almost sufficient to condemn them; but a huge barracoon standing in a cleared space close at hand, and a crowd of blacks huddled together on the adjacent bank, apparently in course of shipment on board one or other of the craft in sight, put their character quite beyond question. A hail from below reminded me that there were others who would feel an interest in my discovery. "Well, Mr Hawkesley, is there anything in sight, from your perch aloft there, worth looking at?" came floating up to me in the skipper's voice. "Yes, sir, indeed there is. There are three craft in the creek away yonder, in the very act of shipping negroes at this moment," I replied. "The deuce there are!" ejaculated the skipper. "Which do you think will be the easier plan of the two: to climb the tree, or to make our way through the bush to the spot?" "You will find it much easier to climb the tree, I think, sir. You can be alongside me in five minutes, whilst it will take us nearly two hours, I should say, to make our way to them through the bush," I replied. "Very well; hold on where you are then. We will tackle the tree," returned the skipper. And, looking down, I saw him and the second lieutenant forthwith whip out their knives and begin hacking away at a creeper, wherewith to make grummets to assist them in their attempt at tree-climbing. In a few minutes the twain were alongside me, and--in happy forgetfulness of the ruin wrought upon their unmentionables in the process of "shinning" aloft--eagerly noting through their telescopes the operations in progress on board the slavers. "They seem very busy there," observed the skipper with his eye still peering through the tube of his telescope. "You may depend on it, Mr Smellie, the rascals have got wind of our presence in the river, and intend trying to slip out past us to-night as soon as the fog settles down. I'll be bound they know every inch of the river, and could find their way out blindfold?" "No doubt of it, sir," answered the second luff. "But it is not high- water until two o'clock to-morrow morning, so that I suspect they will not endeavour to make a move until about an hour after midnight. That will enable them to go out on the top of the flood, and with a strong land-breeze in their favour." "So much the better," returned Captain Vernon, with sparkling eyes. "But we will take care to have the boats in the creek in good time. You never know where to have these fellows; they are as cunning as foxes. Please note their position as accurately as you can, Mr Smellie, for I intend you to lead the attack to-night." "Thank you, sir," answered Smellie delightedly; and planting himself comfortably astride a branch, he drew out a pencil and paper and proceeded to make a very careful sketch-chart of the river-mouth, Banana Creek, and the creek in which the slavers were lying; noting the bearings carefully with the aid of a pocket-compass. "There, sir," said he, when he had finished, showing the sketch to the skipper; "that will enable me to find them, I think, let the night be as dark or as thick as it may. How do you think it looks for accuracy?" "Capital!" answered Captain Vernon approvingly; "you really have a splendid eye for proportion and distance, Mr Smellie. That little chart might almost have been drawn to scale, so correct does it look. How in the world do you manage it?" "It is all custom," was the reply. "I make it an invariable rule to devote time and care enough to such sketches as this to ensure their being as nearly accurate as possible. I have devised a few rules upon which I always work; and the result is generally a very near approximation to absolute accuracy. But the sun is getting low; had we not better be moving, sir?" "By all means, if you are sure you have all the information you need," was the reply. "I would not miss my way in that confounded jungle to- night for anything. It would completely upset all our arrangements." "To say nothing of the possibility of our affording a meal to some of the hungry carnivora which probably lurk in the depths of the said jungle," thought I. But I held my peace, and dutifully assisted my superior officers to effect their descent. It was decidedly easier to go up than to go down; but we accomplished our descent without accident, and after a long and wearisome tramp back through the bush found ourselves once more on board the gig just as the last rays of the sun were gilding the tree-tops. The tide had now turned, and was therefore again in our favour; and in an hour from the time of our emerging upon the main stream we reached the sloop, just as the first faint mist-wreaths began to gather upon the bosom of the river. I was exceedingly anxious to be allowed to take part in the forthcoming expedition and had been eagerly watching, all the way across the river, for an opportunity to ask the necessary permission; but Captain Vernon had been so earnestly engaged in discussing with Smellie the details and arrangements for the projected attack that I had been unable to do so. On reaching the ship, however, the opportunity came. As we went up over the side the skipper turned and said: "By the way, Mr Smellie, I hope you--and you also, Mr Hawkesley--will give me the pleasure of your company to dinner this evening?" Smellie duly bowed his acceptance of the invitation and I was about to follow suit when an idea struck me and I said: "I shall be most happy, sir, if my acceptance of your kind invitation will not interfere with my taking part in to-night's boat expedition. I have been watching for an opportunity to ask your permission, and I hope you will not refuse me." "Oh! that's it, is it?" laughed the skipper. "I thought you seemed confoundedly fidgety in the boat. Well--I scarcely know what to say about it; it will be anything but child's play, I can assure you. Still, you are tall and strong, and--there, I suppose I must say `yes.' And now run away and shift your damaged rigging as quickly as possible; dinner will be on the table in ten minutes." I murmured my thanks and forthwith dived below to bend a fresh pair of pantaloons, those I had on being in so dilapidated a condition--what with the tree-climbing and our battle with the thorns and briars of the bush--as to be in fact scarcely decent. The conversation at the dinner-table that night was of a very animated character, but as it referred entirely to the projected attack upon the slavers I will not inflict any portion of it upon the reader. Mr Austin, the first lieutenant, was at first very much disappointed when he found he was not to lead the boat expedition; but he brightened up a bit when the skipper pointed out to him that in all probability the slavers would slip their cables and endeavour to make their escape from the river on finding themselves attacked by the boats; in which case the cream of the fun would fall to the share of those left on board the sloop. Mr Smellie--who was at all times an abstemious man--contented himself with a couple of glasses of wine after dinner, and, the moment that the conversation took a general turn, rose from the table, excusing himself upon the plea that he had several matters to attend to in connection with the expedition. As he rose he caught my eye and beckoned me to follow him, which I did after duly making my bow to the company. When we reached the deck the fog was so thick that it was as much as we could do to see the length of the ship. "Just as I expected," remarked my companion. "How are we to find the creek in such weather as this, Mr Hawkesley?" "I am sure I don't know, sir," I replied, looking round me in bewilderment. "I suppose the expedition will have to be postponed until it clears a bit." "Not if I can prevent it," said he with energy. "Although," he added, a little doubtfully, "it certainly _is very_ thick, and with the slightest deviation from our course we should be irretrievably lost. Whereaway do you suppose the creek to be?" "Oh, somewhere in that direction!" said I, pointing over the starboard quarter. "You are wrong," remarked my companion, looking into the binnacle. "The tide is slackening, whilst the land-breeze is freshening; so that the ship has swung with her head to the eastward, and the direction in which you pointed leads straight out to sea. Now, if you want to learn a good useful lesson--one which may prove of the utmost value to you in after- life--come below with me to the master, and between us we will show you how to find that creek in the fog." "Thank you," said I, "I shall be very glad to learn. Why, you do not even know its compass-bearing." "No," said Smellie, "but we will soon find it out." With that we descended to the master's cabin, where we found the owner in his shirt- sleeves and with a pipe in his mouth, poring over a chart of the coast on which was shown the mouth of the river only, its inland course being shown by two dotted lines, indicating that the portion thus marked had never been properly surveyed. He was busily engaged as we entered laying down in pencil upon this chart certain corrections and remarks with reference to the ebb and flow of the tidal current. "Good evening, gentlemen!" said he as we entered. "Well, Mr Smellie, so you are going to lead the attack upon the slavers to-night, I hear." "Yes," said Smellie, unconsciously straightening himself up, "yes, if this fog does not baffle us. And in order that it may not, I have come to invoke your assistance, Mr Mildmay." "All right, sir!" said old Mildmay. "I expected you; I was waiting for you, sir." "That's all right," said the second lieutenant. "Now, Mildmay," bending over the chart, "whereabouts is the _Daphne_?" "_There_ she is," replied the master, placing the point of his pencil carefully down on the chart and twisting it round so as to produce a black mark. "Very good," assented Smellie. "Now, look here, Mr Hawkesley, this is where your lesson begins." And he produced the sketch-chart he had made that afternoon and spread it out on the table. "You will see from this sketch," he proceeded, "that the _Daphne_ bore exactly north-north-west from the tree in which we were perched when I made it. Which is equivalent to saying that the tree bears south-south- east from the _Daphne_; is it not?" I assented. "Very well, then," continued Smellie. "Be so good, Mr Mildmay, as to draw a line south-south-east from that pencil-mark which represents the _Daphne_ on your chart." The master took his parallel ruler and did so. "So far, so good," resumed the second lieutenant. "Now my sketch shows that the outer extremity of Shark Point bore from the tree north-west ¼ west. In other words, the tree bears from Shark Point south-east ¼ east. Lay off that bearing, Mildmay, if you please." "Very good," he continued, when this second line had been drawn. "Now it is evident that the point where these two lines intersect must be the position of the tree. But, as a check upon these two bearings I took a third to that sharp projecting point at the mouth of Banana Creek," indicating with the pencil on the chart the point in question. "That point bears north-west by north; consequently the tree bears from it south-east by south. Mark that off also, Mildmay, if you please." The master did so, and the three lines were found to intersect each other at exactly the same point. "Capital!" exclaimed Smellie, in high good-humour. "That satisfactorily establishes the exact position of the tree. Now for the next step. The slave fleet bears north-west ¼ west from the tree; and the western entrance to the creek (that by which we shall advance to the attack to-night) bears exactly north-west from the same point. Let us lay down these two bearings on the chart--thus. Now it is evident that the slave fleet and the entrance to the creek are situate _somewhere or other_ on these two lines; the question is--_where_? I will show you how I ascertained those two very important bits of information if you will step to my cabin and bring me the telescope which you will find hanging against the bulkhead." Intensely interested in this valuable practical lesson in surveying I hurried away to do his bidding, and speedily returned with the glass, a small but very powerful instrument, which I had often greatly admired. Taking the telescope from my hand he drew it open and directed my attention to a long series of neat little numbered lines scratched on the polished brass tube. "You see these scratches?" he said. "Very well; now I will explain to you what they are. When I was a midshipman it was my good fortune to be engaged for a time on certain surveying work, during which I acquired a tolerably clear insight of the science. And after the work was over and done with, it occurred to me that my knowledge might be of the greatest use in cases similar to the present. Now I may tell you, by way of explanation, that surveying consists, broadly, in the measurement of angles and lines. The angles are, as you have already seen, very easily taken by means of a pocket-compass; but the measurement of the lines bothered me very considerably for a long time. Of course you can measure a line with perfect accuracy by means of a surveyor's chain, but I wanted something which, if not quite so accurate as that, would be sufficiently correct, while not occupying more than a few seconds in the operation of measurement. So I set to work and trained myself to judge distances by the eye alone; and by constant diligent practice I acquired quite a surprising amount of proficiency. And let me say here, I would very strongly recommend you and every young officer to practise the same thing; you will be surprised when you discover in how many unexpected ways it will be found useful. Well, I managed to do a great deal of serviceable work even in this rough-and-ready way; but after a time I grew dissatisfied with it--I wanted some means of measuring which should be just as rapid but a great deal more accurate. I thought the matter over for a long time, and at last hit upon the idea of turning the telescope to account. The way I did it was this. You have, of course, found that if you look through your telescope at an object, say, half a mile away, and then direct the instrument to another object, say, four miles off, you have to alter the focus of the glass before you can see the second object distinctly. It was this peculiarity which I pressed into my service as a means of measuring distances. My first step was to secure a small, handy, but first-rate telescope--the best I could procure for money; and, provided with this, I commenced operations by looking through it at objects, the exact distances of which from me I knew. I focused the glass upon them carefully, and then made a little scratch on the tube showing how far it had been necessary to draw it out in order to see the object distinctly; and then I marked the scratch with the distance of the object. You see," pointing to the tube, "I have a regular scale of distances here, from one hundred yards up to ten miles; and these scratches, let me tell you, represent the expenditure of a vast amount of time and labour. But they are worth it all. For instance, I want to ascertain the distance of an object. I direct the telescope toward it, focus the instrument carefully, and find that I can see it most clearly when the tube is drawn out to, say, this distance," suiting the action to the word. "I then look at the scale scratched on the tube, and find that it reads six thousand one hundred feet--which is a few feet over one nautical mile. And thus I measure all my distances, and am so enabled to make a really satisfactory little survey in a few minutes as in the case of this afternoon. You must not suppose, however, that I am able to measure in this way with absolute accuracy; I am not; but I manage to get a very near approximation to it, near enough for such purposes as the present. Thus, within the distance of a quarter of a mile I have found that I can always measure within two feet of the actual distance; beyond that and up to half a mile I can measure within four feet of the actual distance; and so on up to ten miles, which distance I can measure to within four hundred feet. "And now to return to the business in hand. My telescope informed me that the slave fleet was anchored at a distance of eighteen thousand three hundred feet (or a shade over three nautical miles) from the tree, and that the western entrance to the creek is twenty-eight thousand nine hundred feet (or about four and three-quarter nautical miles) from the same spot. We have now only to mark off these two distances on the two compass-bearings which we last laid down on the chart: thus,"--measuring and marking off the distances as he spoke--"and here we have the position of the slavers and of the entrance to the creek; and by a moment's use of Mildmay's parallel ruler--thus--we get the compass- bearing of the entrance from the _Daphne_. There it is--south-east by east; and now we measure the distance from one to the other, and find it to be--eight miles, as nearly as it is possible to measure it. Thus, you see, my rough-and ready survey of this afternoon affords us the means of ascertaining our course and distance from the _Daphne_ to a point for which we should otherwise have been obliged to search, and which we could not possibly have hoped to find in the impenetrable fog which now overspreads the river." "Thank you, Mr Smellie," said I, highly delighted with the lesson I had received; "if it will not be troubling you too much I think I must ask you to give me a lesson or two in surveying when you can spare the time." "I shall be very pleased," was the reply. "Never hesitate to come to me for any information or instruction which you think I may be able to afford you. I shall always be happy to help you on in your studies to the utmost extent of my ability. But we have not quite finished yet, and it is now, Mildmay, that I think _you_ may perhaps be able to help us. You see we shall have to pull--or sail, as the case may be--_across_ the current, and it will therefore be necessary to make some allowance for its set. Now do you happen to know anything about the speed of the current in the river?" "Not half so much as I should like," replied the master; "but a hint which the skipper dropped this morning caused me to take the dinghy and go away out in mid-stream _to spend the day in fishing_--ha--ha--ha! The Yankee had his glass turned full upon me, off and on, the whole morning--so I'm told--and if so I daresay he saw that I had some fairly good sport. But I wasn't so busy with my hooks and lines but that I found time to ascertain that the ebb-stream runs at a rate of about four knots at half-tide; and just abreast of us it flows to seaward at the rate of about one knot at half-flood; the salt water flowing _into_ the river along the bottom, and the fresh water continuing to flow _outwards_ on the surface. Now, at what time do you propose to start?" "About half-past nine to-night," answered Smellie. Old Mildmay referred to a book by his side, and then said: "Ah, then you will have about two hours' ebb to contend with--the last two hours of the ebb-tide. Now let me see,"--and he produced a sheet of paper on which were some calculations, evidently the result of his observations whilst "Sshing." He ran over these carefully, and then said: "How long do you expect it will take you to cross?" "Two hours, if we have to pull across--as I expect we shall," answered the second lieutenant. "Two hours!" mused the master. "Two hours! Then you'll have to make allowance, sir, for an average set to seaward of two miles an hour all the way across, or four miles in all." "Very well," said Smellie. "Then to counteract that we must shape our course for a point four miles _above_ that which marks the entrance to the creek--must we not, Mr Hawkesley?" "Certainly," I said; "that is quite clear." "Then be so good as to lay that course down on the chart." I measured off a distance of four miles with the dividers, and marked it off _above_ the mouth of the creek; then applied the parallel ruler and found the course. "It is exactly south-east," said I; "and it will take us close past the southern extremity of this small island." "That is quite right," remarked Smellie, who had been watching me; "and if we happen to sight the land in passing that point it will be an assurance that, so far, we have been steering our proper course. But-- bless me,"--looking at his watch--"it is a quarter after nine. I had no idea it was so late. Run away, Mr Hawkesley, and make your preparations. Put on your worst suit of clothes, and throw your pea- jacket into the boat. You may be glad to have it when we get into the thick of that damp fog. Bring your pistols, but not your dirk; a ship's cutlass, with which the armourer will supply you, will be much more serviceable for the work we have in hand to-night." I hastened away, and reached the deck again just in time to see the men going down the side into the boats after undergoing inspection. CHAPTER EIGHT. WE ATTACK THE SLAVERS. The attacking flotilla was composed of the launch, under Mr Smellie, with me for an _aide_; the first cutter, in charge of Mr Armitage, the third lieutenant; and the second cutter, in charge of Mr Williams, the master's mate; the force consisting of forty seamen and four officers-- quite strong enough, in Captain Vernon's opinion, to give a satisfactory account of the three slavers, which, it was arranged, we were to attack simultaneously, one boat to each vessel. The last parting instructions having been given to Smellie by the skipper, and rounded off with a hearty hand-shake and an earnest exclamation of "I wish you success;" with a still more hearty hand-shake and a "Good-bye, Harold, old boy; good luck attend you!" from Mr Austin, the second lieutenant motioned me into the launch; followed me closely down; the word to shove off was given, and away we went punctually at half-past nine to the minute. The fog was still as thick as ever; so thick, indeed, that it was as much as we could do to see one end of the boat from the other; and, notwithstanding the care with which, as I had had an opportunity of seeing, the second lieutenant had worked out all his calculations, I own that it seemed to me quite hopeless to expect that we should find the place of which we were in search. Nevertheless, we pushed out boldly into the opaque darkness, and the boats' heads were at once laid in the required direction, each coxswain steering by compass, the lighted binnacle containing which had been previously masked with the utmost care. Our object being to take the slavers by surprise the oars were of course muffled, and the strictest silence enjoined. Thus there was neither light nor sound to betray our whereabouts, and we slid over the placid surface of the river almost as noiselessly as so many mist- wreaths. In so dense a fog it was necessary to adopt unusual precautions in order to prevent the boats from parting company. We therefore proceeded in single file, the launch leading, with the first cutter attached by her painter, the second cutter, in her turn, attached by her painter to the first cutter, bringing up the rear. The cutters were ordered to regulate their speed so that the connecting rope between each and the boat ahead should be just slack enough to dip into the water and no more, thus insuring that each boat's crew should do its own fair share of work at the oars. Once fairly away from the ship's side we were immediately swallowed up by the impenetrable mist; and for a considerable time the flotilla glided gently along, without a sight or sound to tell us whether we were going right or wrong; without the utterance of a word on board either of the boats; and with only the slight muffled sound of the oars in the rowlocks and the gurgle of the water along the boats' sides to tell that we were moving at all. The silence would have been oppressive but for the slight murmuring swirl and ripple of the great river and the chirping of the countless millions of insects which swarmed in the bush on both banks of the stream. The latter sent forth so remarkable a volume of sound that when first told it was created by insects alone I found my credulity taxed to its utmost limit; and it was not until I was solemnly assured by Mr Austin that such was the case that I quite believed it. It was not unlike the "whirr" of machinery, save that it rose and fell in distinct cadences, and occasionally--as if by preconcerted arrangement on the part of every individual insect in the district--stopped altogether for a few moments. Then, indeed, the silence became weird, oppressive, uncanny; making one involuntarily shuffle nearer to one's neighbour and glance half-fearfully over one's shoulder. Then, after a slight interval, a faint, far-off signal _chirp! chirp_! would be heard, and in an instant the whole insect-world would burst into full chorus once more, and the air would fairly vibrate with sound. But the night had other voices than this. Mingled with the _chirr_ of the insects there would occasionally float off to us the snarling roar of some forest savage, the barking call of the deer, the yelping of a jackal, the blood-curdling cry of a hyena, the grunt of a hippopotamus, the weird cry of some night-bird; and--nearer at hand, sometimes apparently within a yard or so of the boats--sundry mysterious puffings and blowings, and sudden faint splashings of the water, which latter made me for one, and probably many of the others who heard them, feel particularly uncomfortable, especially if they happened to occur in one of the brief intervals of silence on shore. Once, in particular, during one of those silent intervals, my hair fairly bristled as the boat was suddenly but silently brought up all standing by coming into violent collision with some object which broke water directly under our bows; the shock being instantly followed by a long moaning sigh and a tremendous swirl of the water as the creature--whatever it was--sank again beneath the surface of the river. The men in the launch were, like myself, considerably startled at the circumstance, and one of them--an Irishman--exclaimed, in the first paroxysm of his dismay: "Howly ropeyarns! what was that? Is it shipwrecked, stranded, and cast away we are on the back of a say-crocodile? Thin, Misther Crocodile, let me tell yez at wanst that I'm not good to ate; I'm so sthrongly flavoured wid the tibaccy that I'd be shure to disagray wid yez." This absurd exclamation appealed so forcibly to the men's sense of the ridiculous that it had the instant effect of steadying their nerves and raising a hearty laugh, which, however, was as instantly checked by Smellie, who, though he could not restrain a smile, exclaimed sharply: "Silence, fore and aft! How dare you cry out in that ridiculous fashion, Flanaghan? I have a good mind to report you, sir, as soon as we return to the ship." "_Who shall say how many of us will live to return_?" "Merciful God! who spoke?" hoarsely cried the second lieutenant. And well he might. The words were uttered in a sound scarcely above a whisper, in so low a tone, indeed, that but for Smellie's startled ejaculation I should almost have been inclined to accept them as prompted by my own excited imagination; yet I saw in an instant that every man in the boat had heard them and was as much startled as myself. Who had uttered them, indeed? Every man's look, as his horrified glance sought his neighbour's face, asked the same question. Nobody seemed to have recognised or to be able to identify the voice; and the strangest thing about it was that it did not appear to have been spoken in the boat at all, but from a point close at hand. The men had, with one accord, laid upon their oars in the first shock of this new surprise, and before they had recovered themselves the first cutter had ranged up alongside. "Did anyone speak on board you, Armitage?" asked Smellie. "No, certainly not," was the reply. "Did you hear anyone speak on board the second cutter then?" followed. "No; I heard nothing. Why?" "No matter," muttered the second lieutenant. Then, in a low but somewhat louder tone: "Give way, launches; someone has been trying to play a trick upon us." The men resumed their work at the oars; but an occasional scarcely heard whisper reaching my ears and suggesting rather than conveying such fragmentary sentences as "Some of us doomed"--"Lose the number of our mess," etcetera, etcetera, showed that a very unfortunate impression had been made by the strange incident. As we proceeded the second lieutenant began to consult his watch, and at last, turning to me as he slipped it back into his fob, he whispered: "A quarter after tea. We ought now to be close to Boolambemba Point, but the fog keeps so dense that I am afraid there is no chance of our sighting it." The insect chorus had been silent for an unusually long time when he spoke; but as the words left Smellie's lips the sounds burst out once more, this time in startling proximity to our larboard hand. "By George! there it is, though, sure enough," continued Smellie. "By the sharpness of the sound we must be close aboard of the point. How is her head, coxswain?" Before the man could reply there came in a low murmur from the men pulling the port oars: "We're stirring up the mud here, sir, on the port hand." And at the same moment, looking up, we became aware that the darkness was deeper--more intense and opaque, as it were, on our port hand than anywhere else. "All right!" answered Smellie; "that is the point, sure enough, and very prettily we have hit it off. If we can only make as good a shot at the mouth of the creek I shall be more than satisfied. How have you been steering, coxswain?" "South-east, sir, as straight as ever I could keep her." "That's all right. South-east is your course all the way across. Now we are beginning to draw off from the point and out into mid-stream, and there must be no more talking upon any pretence whatever. The noise of the insects will tell us when we are drawing in with the other bank. On a night like this one has to be guided in a great measure by sound, and even the chirp of the grasshoppers may be made useful, Mr Hawkesley." I murmured a whispered assent as in duty bound, and then all hands relapsed into silence once more. The men worked steadily away at the oars, not exerting themselves to any great extent, but keeping the boat moving at the rate of about four knots per hour. According to our time-reckoning, and the fact that the volume of sound proceeding from the southern bank of the river had overpowered that from the northern bank, we had accomplished rather more than the half of our passage across the stream, when, happening to raise my head upon emerging from a brown study into which I had fallen, I thought I caught a momentary glimpse of some object looming through the fog broad on our port beam. I looked more earnestly still, and presently felt convinced that there _was_ something there. Laying my hand on the second lieutenant's arm to call his attention, I whispered: "Can you see anything out there, sir, abreast of us on our port hand?" Smellie looked eagerly in the indicated direction for some moments, and then turning to the coxswain, whispered: "Starboard--hard!" The boat's helm was put over, her bows swept round; and then I was certain _that we were being watched_, for as the launch swerved out of her course the object became suddenly more distinct, only to vanish completely into the fog next moment, however, its course being as suddenly and promptly altered as our own, thus proving that there were other eyes at least as sharp as ours. But that single momentary glance had been sufficient to show me that the object was a native canoe containing three persons. The second lieutenant was seriously disconcerted at this discovery, and was evidently in great doubt as to whether it would be more prudent to push on or to turn back. If the occupants of the canoe happened to be associated with the slavers, and had been sent out as scouts in anticipation of an attack from us, then there could be little doubt that it would be wiser to turn back, since a light craft like a canoe could easily reach the creek far enough ahead of us to give the alarm, in which case we should find a warm reception prepared for us; and in so dense a fog all the advantage would be on the side of those manning the slave fleet. On the other hand, the _rencontre_ might possibly have been purely accidental, and its occupants supremely indifferent to the movements of ourselves and the slavers alike, in which case it would be not only mortifying in the extreme but possibly fatal to Smellie's prospects in the service if he allowed himself to be frightened out of the advantage of so excellent an opportunity for effecting a surprise. It was a most embarrassing problem with which he thus suddenly found himself brought face to face; but with a brave man the question could not long remain an open one; a few seconds sufficed him to determine on proceeding and taking our chance. The sounds from the shore now rapidly increased in intensity, and by and by we suddenly found that they proceeded from both sides of the boats. Smellie drew out his watch and consulted it by the light of the boat's binnacle. "Twenty minutes to twelve! and we are now entering the creek," he whispered to me. The slavers, we knew, were anchored about two miles up the creek, and the conviction suddenly smote me that in another half-hour I should in all probability be engaged in a fierce and deadly struggle. Somehow up to that moment I had only regarded the attack as a remote possibility--a something which _might_ but was not very likely to happen. I suppose I had unconsciously been entertaining a doubt as to the possibility of our finding the creek. Yet, there we were in it, and nothing could now avert a combat, and more or less bloodshed. Nothing, that is, except the exceedingly unlikely circumstance of our finding the birds flown. Did I wish this? Was I _afraid_? Honestly, I am unable to say whether I was or not; but I am inclined to acquit myself of the charge of cowardice. My sensations were peculiar and rather unpleasant, I freely admit; but looking back upon them now in the light of long years of experience, I am disposed to attribute them entirely to nervous excitement. Hitherto my nostrils had never sniffed the odour of powder burned in anger; I was about to undergo a perfectly new experience; I was about to engage with my fellow-men in mortal combat; to come face to face with and within arm's-length of those who, if the opportunity occurred, would take my life deliberately and without a moment's hesitation. In a short half-hour I might be dying--or _dead_. As this disagreeable and inopportune reflection flashed through my mind my heart throbbed violently, the blood rushed to my head, and my breathing became so laboured that I felt as though I was stifling. These disagreeable--indeed I might more truthfully call them _painful_-- sensations lasted in their intensity perhaps as long as five minutes, after which they rapidly subsided, to be succeeded by a feverish longing and impatience for the moment of action. My excitement ceased; my breathing again became regular; but the period of suspense--that period which only a few minutes before had seemed so short--now felt as though it were lengthening out to a veritable eternity. I wanted to begin at once, to know the worst, and to get it over. I had not much longer to wait. We had advanced about a mile up the creek when a deep hoarse voice was heard shouting something from the shore. "Oars!" exclaimed Smellie; and the men ceased pulling. "What was it the fellow said?" continued the second lieutenant, turning to me. "Haven't the slightest idea, but it sounded like Spanish," I replied. The hail was repeated, but we could make nothing of it. Mr Armitage, however, who boasted a slight knowledge of Spanish, informed us--the first cutter having by this time drifted up abreast of us--that it was a caution to us to return at once or take the consequences. "Oh! that's it, is it?" remarked Smellie. "Well, it seems that we are discovered, so any further attempt at a surprise is useless. Cast the boats adrift from each other, and we will make a dash for it. Our best chance now is to board and carry the three craft simultaneously with a rush--if we can. Give way, lads!" The boats' painters were cast off; the crews with a ringing cheer plunged their oars simultaneously into the water, and away we went at racing speed through the dense fog along the channel. We had scarcely pulled half a dozen strokes when the report of a musket rang out from the bank on our starboard hand; and at the same instant a line of tiny sparks of fire appeared on either hand through the thick haze, rapidly increasing in size and luminosity until they stood revealed as huge fires of dry brushwood. They were twelve in number, six on either bank of the channel, and were spaced about three hundred yards apart. So large were they that they rendered the fog quite luminous; and it seemed pretty evident that they had been built and lighted for the express purpose of illuminating the channel and revealing our exact whereabouts. I was congratulating myself upon the circumstance that the dense fog would to a considerable extent defeat their purpose, when, in an instant, as though we had passed out through a solid wall, we emerged from the fog, and there lay the three slave- craft before us, moored with springs on their cables, boarding-nettings triced up, and guns run out, evidently quite ready to receive us. The three craft were moored athwart the channel in a slightly curved line, with their bows pointing to the eastward, the brig being ahead, the schooner next, and the brigantine the sternmost of the line. Thus moored, their broadsides commanded the whole channel in the direction of our advance, and could, if required, be concentrated upon any one point in it. "Hurrah!" shouted Smellie, rising to his feet and drawing his sword; "hurrah, lads, there is our game! Give way and go at them. I'll take the brig, Armitage; you tackle the brigantine, and leave Williams to deal with the schooner. Now bend your backs, launches; there is a glass of grog all round waiting for you if we are alongside first." "Hurroo! pull, bhoys, and let's shecure that grog annyhow," exclaimed the irrepressible Flanaghan; and with another cheer and a hearty laugh the men stretched themselves out and plied the stout ashen oars until the water fairly buzzed again under the launch's bows, and it almost seemed as though they would lift her bodily out of the water. As for Armitage and Williams, they were evidently quite determined not to be beaten in the race if they could help it. Both were on their feet, their drawn swords in their right hands, pistols in their left, and their bodies bobbing energetically forward, in approved racing fashion, at every stroke of the oars; whilst the voice of first one and then the other could be heard encouraging their respective crews with such exclamations as: "Pull now! pull _hard! There_ she lifts! _Now_ she travels! There we draw ahead. _Well_ pulled; again so," and so on, she men all the while straining at the oars with a zeal and energy which left in the wake of each boat a long line of swirling, foamy whirlpools. We were within about eighty yards of the slavers--the launch leading by a good half length--when a voice on board the brig uttered some word of command, and that same instant--_crash_! came a broadside at us, fired simultaneously from the three ships. The guns were well-aimed, the shot flying close over and all round us, tearing and thrashing up the placid surface of the water about the boats, and sprinkling us to such an extent that, for the moment, we seemed to be passing through a heavy shower; yet, strange to say, no damage was done. Before the guns could be again loaded we were alongside, and then ensued--so far at least as the launch was concerned--a few minutes of such desperate hand-to-hand fighting as I have never since witnessed. We dashed alongside the brig in the wake of her larboard main rigging, and as the boat's side touched that of the slaver every man dropped his oar, seized his cutlass, and sprang for the main channels. Here, however, we were received so warmly that it was found utterly impossible to make good our footing, the men springing up only to fall back again into the boat wounded with pike-thrust, pistol-bullet, or cutlass-gash. Smellie and I happened to make a dash for the same spot, but being the lighter of the two I was jostled aside by him and narrowly avoided tumbling overboard. He succeeded in gaining a temporary footing on the chain-plate, and was evidently about to scramble thence upon the sheer- pole, when I saw a pike thrust out at him from over the topgallant bulwarks. The point struck him in the right shoulder, passing completely through it; the thrust upset his balance, and down he came by the run into the boat. Our lads meanwhile were cutting and hacking most desperately at the boarding netting, endeavouring to make a passage-way through it, but unfortunately they had emptied their pistols in the first rush, and, unable to reach their enemies through the netting, were completely at their mercy. In less than three minutes all hands were back in the boat, every one of us more or less hurt, and no nearer to getting on board than we had been before the beginning of the attack. The cutters had evidently fared no better, for they were already hauling off, discomfited; seeing which, Smellie, who seemed scarcely conscious of his wound, reluctantly gave the order for us to follow their example, which we promptly did. Poor Smellie! I pitied him, for I could see he was deeply mortified at our defeat. The three boats converged toward each other as they hauled off, and as soon as we were within speaking distance of them the second lieutenant inquired of Armitage and Williams whether they had suffered much. "We have one man killed, and I think none of us have escaped quite scot- free," was Armitage's reply; whilst Williams reported that two of his men were seriously hurt and seven others slightly wounded. "Well," said Smellie, "it is evident that we can do nothing with them unless we change our tactics. We will, therefore, all three of us attack the schooner, the two cutters boarding her, one on each bow, whilst we in the launch will make a feint of attacking the brigantine, passing her, however, at the last moment, and boarding the schooner aft. Now--away we go!" The boats upon this were quickly swept round, and off we dashed toward our respective points of attack. We were still fully a hundred yards distant when another broadside was poured into us, this time with very destructive effect so far as the launch was concerned. We were struck by no less than five nine-pound shot, two of which played havoc with our oars on the starboard side, a third tore out about twelve feet of planking and gunwale on the same side, and the remaining two struck the boat's stem close together, completely demolishing the bows and, worst of all, killing three men. The launch was now a wreck and sinking. Smellie, therefore, conceiving it to be our best chance under the circumstances, gave orders to steer straight for the schooner's main-chains. We succeeded in reaching our quarry before the boat sank, and that was all, the launch capsizing alongside as we sprang from her gunwale to that of the schooner. Very fortunately for us, the two cutters had arrived nearly a minute before us, and when we boarded the entire crew of the schooner was on her forecastle fully occupied in the endeavour to repel their attack. Taking advantage of this we quietly but rapidly slipped in on deck through her open ports aft, and then made a furious charge forward, attacking the Spaniards in their rear. Our presence on board seemed to take them considerably by surprise. They wavered and hesitated, but, incited by a burly ruffian who forced his way through the crowd, rallied once more and attacked us hotly. This was exactly what we wanted. Our fellows, by Smellie's order, contented themselves with acting for the time being strictly on the defensive, giving way gradually before the impetuous attack of the Spaniards, and drawing them by degrees away from the forecastle. A diversion was thus effected in favour of the cutters' crews, of which they were not slow to avail themselves; and in less than five minutes after the attack of the launch's crew our entire party had gained a footing upon the schooner's deck. Even then the Spanish crew continued to fight desperately, inflicting several very severe wounds upon our lads, until at last, thoroughly roused by such obstinacy, the blue-jackets made such a determined charge that they cleared the decks by actually and literally driving their opponents overboard. Not that this entailed much loss upon the Spaniards, however; for they all, or very nearly all, swam either to the brig or the brigantine, where they were promptly hauled on board. On our side Smellie lost not a moment in availing himself to the fullest extent of our partial victory. He ordered the cutters to be dropped under the schooner's stern, and whilst this was being done the springs were veered away and hauled upon until the schooner was brought broadside-on to her former consorts, now her antagonists. This done our lads went to the guns, double-shotted them, and succeeded in delivering an awfully destructive raking broadside fore and aft along the decks of both the brig and the brigantine. The frightful outcries and the confusion which ensued on board these craft assured us that our fire had wrought a tremendous amount of execution among the men crowding their decks; but they were too wise to give us an opportunity to repeat the dose. Their springs were promptly manned, and by the time that the schooner's batteries were again loaded our antagonists had brought their broadsides to bear upon us. Once more was our double-shotted broadside hurled upon the foe, and then, before our lads had time to run-in their guns, we received the combined fire of the brig and the brigantine in return. Through the sharp ringing explosion of our antagonists' nine-pounders we distinctly heard the crashing of the shot through the schooner's timbers, and then--O God! I shall never forget it--the piercing shrieks and groans of mortal agony which uprose beneath our feet! Not a man of us upon the schooner's decks was injured by that terrible double broadside; for the Spaniards, resolved to sink the craft, had depressed the muzzles of their guns and sent their shot through the schooner's sides just above the water-line on the one side and out through her bottom on the other, regardless of the fact that _the vessel's hold was packed full of slaves_. The slaughter which resulted among these unhappy creatures, thus closely huddled together, I must leave to the reader's imagination--it was simply indescribable. For a moment all hands of us on board the schooner were struck dumb and motionless with horror at this act of cowardice and wanton barbarity; then, with a yell of righteous fury our lads turned again to their guns, which thenceforward were loaded and fired independently, and as rapidly as possible. The slavers on their part were not behindhand in alacrity, and presently we received another broadside from the brig, closely followed by one from the brigantine, the guns being in both cases aimed as before, with similar murderous results, and with a repetition of those heart-rending shrieks of agony and despair. "My God! I can't bear this!" I heard Smellie exclaim, as the dying shrieks of the negroes below again pealed out upon the startled air. "Mr Williams, take half a dozen men below and free those unhappy blacks. I don't know whether I am acting prudently or not, but I cannot leave them chained helplessly down there to be cut to pieces by the shot of those Spanish fiends. Let them come on deck and take their chance with us. Some of them at least may possibly effect their escape, either in the schooner's boats or by swimming to the shore." Williams lost no time in setting about his perilous work of mercy; and a few minutes after his disappearance down the main hatchway the unhappy slaves began to make their appearance on deck, where they first stared in terrified wonder about them, and then crouched down helplessly on the deck wherever they might happen to find themselves. In the meantime the cannonade was kept briskly up on both sides, and presently the Spaniards began to pepper us with musketry in addition. The bullets, fired at short range, flew thickly about us; and the casualties quickly increased, several of the unfortunate blacks falling victims to the first discharge. Seeing this, Smellie ordered the schooner's boats, three in number, to be lowered and the slaves passed into them. This was done, our lads leaving the guns for a few minutes for the purpose; but--will it be credited? The Spaniards no sooner became aware of our purpose than they directed their fire upon the boats and their hapless occupants; so that we were compelled to quickly drag the unhappy blacks back on board the schooner again, to save them from being ruthlessly slaughtered. The worst of it was, that though Williams had succeeded in freeing many of them from the heavy chains with which they were secured together in the schooner's hold, most of them still wore heavy fetters on their ankles. These we now proceeded to knock off as fast as we could, afterwards pitching the poor wretches overboard-- with scant ceremony, I fear--to take their chances of being able to reach the shore. And during all this the Spaniards never ceased firing upon us for an instant; so there we were in the midst of a perfect hailstorm of round-shot and bullets; the air about us thick and suffocating with the smoke from the guns, our only light the quick intermittent flashes of the cannon and musketry; the whole atmosphere vibrating with the roar and rattle of the fusillade, the shouts of the combatants, and the shrieks of the wounded and dying; struggling with the unhappy negroes who, driven almost frantic with the unwonted sights and sounds around them, seemed quite unable to comprehend our intentions, and resisted to the utmost our well-meant endeavours to pass them over the ship's side into the water. In the midst of all this tumult and confusion we were suddenly confronted by an additional horror--Williams, badly wounded in the head by a splinter, staggering on deck, closely followed by his men, with the news that the schooner was rapidly sinking, and that it was impossible to free any more of the blacks. I glanced down the hatchway. Merciful Heaven! shall I ever forget the sight which met my eyes in that brief glimpse! The intelligence was only too literally true. By the dim light of a horn lantern which Williams had suspended from the beams I could see the black water welling and bubbling rapidly up from the shot-holes below, and the wretched negroes, still chained below, surrounded by the mangled corpses of their companions and already immersed to their chins, with their heads thrown as far back as possible so as to keep their mouths and nostrils free until the last possible moment, their faces contorted and their eyes protruding from their sockets with mortal fear. One of the unhappy creatures was a woman--a mother. Actuated by that loving and devoted instinct which constrains all animals to seek the safety of their helpless offspring before their own, she had raised her infant in her arms as high as possible above the surface of the bubbling water, and had fixed her dying gaze yearningly upon the little creature's face with an expression of despairing love which it was truly pitiful to see. I could not bear it. The mother was lost--chained as she was to the submerged deck, nothing could then save her--but the child might still be preserved. I sprang down the hatchway and, splashing through the rapidly-rising water, seized the child, and, as gently as possible, tried to disengage it from the mother's grasp. The woman turned her eyes upon me, looked steadfastly at me for a moment as though she would read my very soul, and then--possibly because she saw the flood of compassion which was welling up from my heart into my eyes--pressed her child's lips once rapidly and convulsively to her own already submerged mouth, loosed her grasp upon its body, and with a wild shriek of bitter anguish and despair threw herself backwards beneath the flood. My heart was bursting with grief and indignation--grief for the miserable dying wretches around me, and indignation at our utter inability to prevent such wholesale human suffering. But there was no time to lose; the schooner was already settling down beneath our feet, and I saw that it would very soon be "Every man for himself and God for us all;" so I passed my charge on deck and quickly followed it myself. I was just in time to see Smellie spinning the schooner's wheel hard over to port and lashing it there. Divining in an instant that he hoped by this manoeuvre to sheer the schooner alongside the brig, I seized the child I had brought up from below, dropped it into one of our own boats astern, and then stood by to make a spring for the brig with the rest of our party. Half a minute more and the sides of the two ships touched. "Now, lads, follow me! Spring for your lives--the schooner is sinking!" I heard Smellie shout; and away we went--Armitage leading one party forward, and Smellie showing the way to the rest of them aft. And, even as we made our spring, the schooner heeled over and sank alongside. We were met, as before, by so stubborn a resistance that I believe every one of us received some fresh hurt more or less serious before we actually reached the deck of the brig; but our lads were by this time fully aroused--neither boarding-nettings nor anything else could any longer restrain them; and in a few seconds, though more than one poor fellow fell back dead, we were in possession of the brig, the crew, in obedience to an order from their captain, suddenly flinging down their weapons and tumbling headlong into their boats, which for some reason--a reason we were soon to learn--they had lowered into the water. To our surprise our antagonists, instead of taking refuge on board the brigantine, as we fully expected they would, took to their oars and pulled in frantic haste up the creek. In the dense darkness which now ensued consequent upon the cessation of firing it was impossible to send a shot after them with any chance of success; and so they were allowed to go free. The hot pungent fumes which arose through the grating of the brig's main hatchway very convincingly testified to the presence of slaves on board that craft also; and, warned by his recent experience on board the schooner, Smellie resolved to warp the brig in alongside the bank and land the unfortunate creatures before resuming hostilities. A gang of men was accordingly sent forward to clear away the necessary warps and so on; and I was directed to go with a boat's crew into one of the cutters to run the ends of the warps on shore. The boats, it will be remembered, had been passed astern of the schooner, and there they still remained uninjured, that craft having settled down in water so shallow that her deck was only submerged to a depth of about eighteen inches. In order to reach either of the boats, however, it was necessary to pass along the deck of the sunken craft; and I was just climbing down the brig's side to do so--the men having preceded me--when the bulwarks to which I was clinging suddenly burst outward, the brig's hull was rent open by a tremendous explosion, and, enveloped for an instant in a sheet of blinding flame, I felt myself whirled upwards and outwards for a considerable distance, to fall finally, stunned, scorched, and half-blinded, into the agitated waters of the creek. Moved more by instinct than anything else I at once struck out mechanically for the shore. It was at no great distance from me, and I had almost reached it when some object--probably a piece of falling wreckage from the dismembered brig--struck me a violent blow on the back of the head, and I knew no more. CHAPTER NINE. DOOMED TO THE TORTURE. Consciousness at length began, slowly and with seeming reluctance, to return to me; and so exceedingly disagreeable was the process, that if I could have had my own way just then, I think I should have preferred to die. My first sensation was that of excessive stiffness in every part of my body, with distracting headache. Then, as my nerves more fully recovered their functions, ensued a burning fever which scorched my body and sent the blood rushing through my throbbing veins like a torrent of molten metal. And finally, as I made an unsuccessful effort to move, I became aware, first of all by sundry sharp smarting sensations, that I had been wounded in three or four places; and secondly, by a feeling of severe compression about the wrists and ankles, that I was bound--a prisoner! With complete restoration to consciousness my sufferings rapidly grew more acute; and at length, with a groan of exquisite agony, I opened my eyes and looked about me. "Where was I?" Somewhere on shore, evidently. Overhead was the deep brilliantly blue sky, with the sun, almost in the zenith, darting his burning beams directly down upon my uncovered head and my upturned face. Turning my head aside to escape the dazzling brightness which smote upon my aching eyeballs with a sensation of positive torture, I discovered that I was lying in about the centre of an extensive forest clearing of nearly circular shape and about five hundred yards in diameter, hemmed in on all sides by a dense growth of jungle and forest trees, and carpeted thickly with short verdant grass. Near me lay the apparently inanimate body of poor Mr Smellie, bound hand and foot, like myself; and dotted about here and there on the grass, mostly in a sitting posture and also bound, were some fifteen or twenty negroes, who, from their wretched plight, I conjectured to be survivors from the sunken slave schooner. Turning my head in the opposite direction I discovered at a few yards distance a party of negroes, some fifty in number, much finer-looking and more athletic men than those in bonds round about me, who, from the weapons they bore, I at once concluded to be our captors. This surmise was soon afterwards proved to be correct; for, upon the completion of the meal which they were busily discussing when I first made them out, they approached us, and with sufficiently significant gestures gave us to understand that we must rise and march. The captive blacks rose to their feet stolidly and without any apparent difficulty; but so far as I was concerned this was an impossibility, my feet as well as my hands being secured. One great hulking black fellow, noticing that neither Smellie nor I showed any signs of obedience, deliberately proceeded to prod us here and there with the point of his spear. Upon Smellie these delicate attentions produced no effect whatever, he evidently being either dead or insensible; but they aroused in me a very lively feeling of indignation, under the influence of which I launched such a vigorous kick at the unreasonable darky's shins as made him howl with pain and sent him hopping out of range in double- quick time--a proceeding which raised a hearty laugh at his expense among his companions. A moment later, however, he returned, his eyes sparkling with rage, and would have transfixed me with the light javelin he carried had not another of the party interfered. By the order of this last individual Smellie and I were presently raised from the ground, and each borne by two men, were carried off in the rear of the column of captive blacks, our captors taking up such positions along the line on either side as effectually precluded all possibility of escape. Passing across the open space, we presently plunged into the jungle, traversing a bush-path just wide enough to allow of two men walking abreast. I had not much opportunity, however, for noting any of the incidents of our journey, for, owing to the clumsy way in which I was being carried, my wounds burst open afresh, and I soon fainted from loss of blood. When next I recovered consciousness I found that we were afloat, no doubt on the river, though I had no means of ascertaining this for certain, as I was lying in the bottom of the canoe, and could see nothing but blue sky beyond either of the gunwales. Smellie was lying beside me, and, to my great joy, I found that he was not only alive but a great deal better than I could have thought possible after witnessing his former desperate condition. Of course we at once exchanged congratulations each at the other's escape; and then began to compare notes. My companion in misfortune had, it seemed, just started to go forward when the explosion occurred on board the brig; the shock had rendered him unconscious; and when he recovered he found himself on board the canoe with me beside him. Poor fellow! he was in a sad plight. He was severely wounded in no less than four different parts of his body; his face and hands were badly scorched; his clothing--about which he was always very particular--hung upon him in tatters; and lastly, he was greatly distressed in mind at the disastrous failure of the expedition, at the fearfully heavy casualties which we knew had befallen the attacking party, and at the extreme probability that those casualties had been very largely increased by the blowing up of the brig. I said what I could to comfort him, but, alas! that was not much; and it was a relief to us both to change the subject, even though we naturally turned at once to the discussion of our own problematical future. The craft in which we found ourselves was a war-canoe, about sixty feet long and five feet beam, manned by about forty of our captors, who sat two abreast close to the gunwales, paddling vigorously; the negro prisoners, as well as ourselves, being stowed along the middle of the canoe, fore and aft. A fresh fair breeze was blowing, and full advantage was being taken of this circumstance, a huge mat sail being hoisted on the craft which must inevitably have capsized her had it happened to jibe. From the sharp rushing sound of the water along the sides and bottom of the canoe, and the swift strokes of the paddles, I judged that we must be travelling through the water at a rapid rate, a conjecture the truth of which was afterwards very disagreeably verified. We sped on thus until sunset, when the sail was suddenly lowered and with loud shouts, which were re-echoed from the shore, the canoe's course was altered, the craft grounding a few minutes afterwards on a beach where all hands of us landed. Smellie and I were by this time quite able to walk, but before we could set foot to the ground a couple of stalwart blacks were told off to each of us, and we were carried along as before. On this occasion, however, our journey was but a short one, not more, perhaps, than five or six hundred yards altogether. Arrived, apparently, at our destination, we were set down, and immediately bound with _llianos_ or monkey-rope to the bole of a huge tree. Looking about us, we discovered that we were in a native village of considerable size, built in a semicircular shape, having in its centre a structure of considerable architectural pretensions in a barbaric sort of way, which structure we conjectured-- from the presence of a hideous idol in front of it--must be a sort of temple. Looking about us still further, we noticed that the remainder of the prisoners were being bound to trees like ourselves. There was a peculiarity about the disposition of the prisoners which I certainly did not like; there might be no motive for it, but it struck me that our being ranged in a semicircle in front of this idol had a rather sinister appearance. Having secured the prisoners to their satisfaction, our captors left us; and we were speedily surrounded by a curious crowd consisting chiefly of women and children, who came and stared persistently with open-mouthed curiosity at the captives, and especially at Smellie and myself, greatly attracted by the apparently novel sight of our white skins. The old women were, for the most part, hideously ugly, wrinkled, and bent, their grizzled wool plastered with grease and dirt, and their bodies positively _encrusted_ with filth. The young women, on the other hand-- those, that is to say, whose ages seemed to range between thirteen and sixteen or seventeen--were by no means destitute of personal attractions, which--to do them justice--they exhibited with the most boundless liberality. They were all possessed of plump well-made figures; their limbs were, in many cases, very finely moulded; they had an upright graceful carriage; the expression of their features was amiable and gentle; and, notwithstanding their rather prominent lips, a few of them were actually pretty. One of these damsels, a perfect little sable Hebe, seemed to be greatly attracted by us, walking round and round the tree to which we were secured--first at a respectful distance, and then nearer and nearer. Finally, after studying our countenances intently for nearly a minute, she boldly approached and laid her finger upon my cheek, apparently to ascertain whether or no it was genuine flesh and blood. Satisfied that it was so, she backed off to take another look at us, and I thought an expression of pity overspread her face. Finally she addressed us. We were, of course, quite unable to understand the words she uttered, but her actions, graceful as they were, were significant enough; she was evidently asking whether we were hungry or thirsty. To this inquiry Smellie nodded a prompt affirmative, which I backed up with the single word "_Rather_," uttered so expressively that I am certain she quite understood me. At all events, she tripped lightly away, returning in a few minutes with a small finely-woven basket containing about two quarts of fresh palm-juice, which she presented first to Smellie's lips, and then to mine. Need I say that, between us, we emptied it? Our hostess laughed gaily as she glanced at the empty basket, evidently pleased at the success of her attempt to converse with us; and then, with a reassuring word or two, she tripped away again. Only to return, however, about a quarter of an hour later, with the same basket, filled this time with a kind of porridge, which, though not particularly tasty, was acceptable enough after our long fast. This, our fair, or rather our _dark_ friend administered to us alternately by means of a flat wooden spatula. This feeding process had not passed, it need hardly be said, unobserved; and by the time that our meal was concluded quite a large audience of women had gathered round to witness the performance. The animated jabber and hearty ringing laughter of several of the younger women and the somewhat abashed yet pleased expression of our own particular friend seemed to indicate that _badinage_ was not altogether unknown, even in this obscure African village. But everything of that kind was brought abruptly to an end by a loud discordant blowing of horns and the hollow _tub, tub, tub_ of a number of rude drums; at which sounds the crowd around us broke up at once and retired, our little Hebe casting back at us more than one glance strongly indicative, as it seemed to me, of compassion. A fire had been kindled in front of the idol, or _fetish_, during the feeding process above referred to, and now that the curious crowd of women and girls who then surrounded us had retired we were able to see a little more of what was going on. The horn-blowing and drum-beating emanated from a group of entirely naked savages who were marching in a kind of procession round the idol. This ceremony lasted about ten minutes, when another negro made his appearance upon the scene, emerging from the temple, if such it actually was, bearing in his hands a queer- looking construction, the nature of which I was at first unable to distinguish. After marching solemnly round the idol three times this individual seated himself tailor-fashion before it, laid the instrument on his knees, and began to hammer upon it with a couple of sticks; whereupon we became aware that he was playing upon a rude imitation of a child's harmonicon, the keys of which appeared to be constructed of hard wood, out of which he managed to beat a very fair specimen of barbaric music. This music seemed to be the overture to some impending entertainment; for upon the sound of the first notes the inhabitants began to pour out of their huts and to gather in a promiscuous crowd round the giant tree-stump upon which the hideous fetish was mounted. When the gathering was apparently complete the music ceased, the drumming and horn-blowing burst out afresh, and the crowd immediately divided into two sections, the smaller, and I presume the more select division squatting on the ground in a semicircle in front of the image, whilst the remainder of the inhabitants ranged themselves into two quadrants about thirty feet apart, one on each side and in front of their deity. Through this open space between the two quadrants it appeared probable that we should obtain a very good, if rather distant view of the ceremonies which were evidently about to take place. The audience having arranged themselves in position, the horn-blowing ceased, and the musicians stepped inside the inner circle and seated themselves to the right and left of the fetish. A pause of perhaps a couple of minutes ensued, and then horns, drums, and harmonicon suddenly burst out with a loud confused fantasia, each man apparently doing his utmost to drown the noise of the others. Louder and louder blared the horns; the drummers pounded upon their long narrow drums until it seemed as though at every stroke the drum-heads must inevitably be beaten in; whilst the harmonicon-man hammered away at his instrument with a vigour and rapidity which must have been truly gratifying to his friends. In the midst of this wild hullabaloo a blood-curdling yell rang out upon the still night air, and from the open door of the temple or fetish- house there bounded into the inner circle a most extraordinary figure, clad from head to heel in monkey skins, his head adorned with a coronet of beads and feathers, a bead necklace round his neck, a living snake encircling his waist as a girdle, and bearing in his hand a red and black wand about four feet long. Upon the appearance of this individual the uproar suddenly ceased, then the _maestro_ who presided at the harmonicon struck up a low accompaniment, and the last comer burst into a subdued monotonous chant, pointing and gesticulating from time to time with his wand. I watched the proceedings with a great deal of interest, and was beginning to wonder what would happen next, when Smellie turned to me and quietly asked: "Mr Hawkesley, do you ever say your prayers?" "Sir?" I ejaculated in unutterable surprise at so impertinent a question, as it seemed to me. "I asked whether you ever said your prayers: I ought to have said, rather, do you ever pray? There is often a very great difference between the two acts," he returned quietly. "Well--ah--yes--that is--certainly, sir, I do," stammered I. "Then," said Smellie, "let me recommend you to pray _now_--to pray with all the earnestness and sincerity of which you are capable. Make your peace with God, if you have not already done so, whilst you have the opportunity, for, unless I am very greatly mistaken, _it is our doom to die to-night_." I was so shocked, so completely knocked off my balance, by this unlooked-for communication, that, for the moment I lost all power of speech, my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth, and I could only stare at my fellow-prisoner in horrified incredulity. "My poor boy," he said compassionately, "I am afraid I have spoken to you too abruptly. I ought to have prepared you gradually for so momentous a piece of intelligence, to have _broken_ the news to you. But, there, what matters? You are a plucky lad, Hawkesley--your conduct last night abundantly proved that--and I am sure that, if the occasion should come, you will stand up and face death in the presence of these savages as an Englishman should; I am not afraid of that. But, my dear boy, are you prepared to die? Are you in a fit state to meet your God? You are very young, quite a lad in fact, and a _good_ lad too; you cannot yet have erred very grievously. Thoughtless, careless, indifferent you may have been, but your conscience can hardly charge you with any _very_ serious offence, I should think; and you may therefore well hope for pardon and mercy. Seek both at once, my dear boy." "But--Mr Smellie--I--I don't understand; _you_ don't appear to be afraid or--or disturbed at--the near prospect of death." "No," he replied, raising his eyes heavenward for a moment; "no, thank God, I am _not_ afraid. My mother--" his lips quivered, his voice faltered and almost broke for an instant, and by the red glare of the fire I saw the tears well up into his eyes as he spoke that revered name. But he steadied himself again directly, and went on--"my dear mother taught me to be ready for death at any moment; taught me so lovingly and so thoroughly that I can regard with perfect calmness to- night, as I have a score of times before, the approach of the Last Enemy. But let us not waste the precious moments in conversation. Time soon will be for us no more; and--ah! see, there comes the vile high- priest of a loathsome idolatry to claim his first victim. Should you by any chance escape the coming horrors of this night, Hawkesley, and live to reach England once more, seek out my mother--Austin will instruct you as to where she may be found--and tell her that her son died as she would wish him to die, a sincere Christian. I am to be the first victim it would appear. Farewell, my dear boy! God bless you, and grant us a happy meeting at His right hand on the last Great Day!" I strove in vain to reply to his solemnly affectionate farewell. I wanted to let him know how inexpressibly precious to me were the few words of exhortation and encouragement he had spoken; to say were it only a single word to cheer his last moments with the assurance that he had not spoken in vain; but my emotion was too great. I felt that in the effort to speak I should inevitably burst into tears, and so, perhaps, unman him, and disgrace him and myself in the eyes of these inhuman savages. So, perforce, I held my peace, and watched with a wildly-beating heart to see how a brave man should die. In the meantime the fetish-man had concluded his chant, and, in the midst of a breathless silence on the part of his audience, stood looking intently round the circle at the group of prisoners secured to the trees. He glanced keenly at each of us in turn, and at length pointed his wand straight at Smellie. It was this action which caused the second lieutenant to announce to me his belief that it was he who was to be the first victim of the impending sacrificial ceremony. Keeping his wand pointed directly at my companion, the uncouth figure slowly and with a quite undescribable undulatory dancing motion, advanced toward our tree, the crowd hastily making way for him, and four members of the inner circle rising to their feet and following him at a touch from his finger. Overcoming by a strong effort the horrible fascination which this loathsome wretch exercised over me, I turned to look at my companion. He seemed to be utterly unconscious of his surroundings. His eyes were raised to heaven, his lips moved from time to time, and it was manifest that he was holding the most solemn and momentous communion which it is possible for man to hold even with his Maker. Pale, haggard, and worn with mental and physical suffering, his crisp brown curly hair stiff and matted with blood, his face streaked with ensanguined stains, and his scorched clothing hanging about him in blood-stained rags, I nevertheless thought it would be difficult to picture a more perfect embodiment of a good, noble, and brave man. Slowly and sinuously, like a serpent stealing upon his prey, the fetish- man or witch-doctor advanced until he stood within a yard of his intended victim, with the fatal wand still pointing straight at Smellie's breast. He stood thus for a full minute or more, seemingly striving to wring from the bound and helpless prisoner some sign of panic or at least of discomposure. In vain. His last most solemn act of duty done, Smellie at length turned his eyes upon those of his enemy, regarding him with a gaze so calmly steadfast, so palpably devoid of fear, that the savage, mortified at his utter failure, suddenly, with an exclamation unmistakably indicative of rage and chagrin, dropped the point of his wand, to raise it again instantly and direct it toward my breast. But the cool intrepidity which I had just witnessed was contagious; in my sublime admiration of it my soul soared far above and beyond the reach of so debasing a feeling as fear, and in my turn I met the cruel sinister gaze of the crafty savage with one as calm as Smellie's own. For perhaps a full minute--it may have been more, it may have been less; it is difficult to estimate the lapse of time under such trying circumstances--the fetish-man did his best to disconcert me; then, baffled once more, with a furious and threatening gesture he passed on to the next prisoner. "We are reprieved for the time being," said Smellie, as the gesticulating witch-doctor and his myrmidons passed on, "but only to become the victims of a more refined and protracted torture at last. Having failed to exhibit any signs of fear in the first instance we are spared to witness the cumulative sufferings of those who are to precede us, in order that by the sight of their exquisite torments our courage may be quelled by the anticipation of our own. I imagine, from what I have read of the customs of this people, that we are about to witness and become participants in a ceremony undertaken to avert or remove some great calamity--a ceremony involving the sacrifice of many victims, each of whom is put to death with more refined barbarity than that dealt out to the victim preceding him. Ah! see there--a worthy victim has at last been found with which to begin the sacrifice." I looked in the direction his eyes indicated, and, sure enough, the light but fatal stroke with the wand was just in the act of being struck upon the naked breast of one of the negro prisoners. As the blow fell a loud shriek of despair rang out from the lips of the wretched man; the fetish-man's four assistants sprang upon their prey, his bonds were cut, and in another moment he was dragged, struggling desperately and shrieking with mortal fear, into the inner circle and up to the broad tree-stump which supported the fetish or idol. In the meantime the fire had been bountifully replenished with wood and now blazed up fiercely. By its ruddy light I saw the fetish-man retire to the interior of the temple or fetish-house, to appear immediately afterwards with a rude stone hammer in one hand and what looked like four or five large spike-nails in the other. He stood for a moment gloating over the agonised countenance of his victim, and then nodded his head. At the signal his four assistants seized their prisoner, and, despite his terrible struggles, rapidly placed him, head downwards, with his back against the tree-stump, and his limbs extended as far as they would go round it, when the fetish-man proceeded with cruel deliberation to secure him in position by _nailing him there_, the spikes taken from the fetish-house being used for the purpose. The horns, drums, and harmonicon now broke forth afresh into a hideous clamour, which, however, was powerless to drown the dismal shrieks of the victim; and the fetish-man, arming himself with a large broad-bladed and most murderous-looking knife, began to dance slowly, with most extraordinary contortions of visage and body, round the idol. Gradually his gyrations grew more rapid, his gestures more extravagant; the knife was flourished in the air in an increasingly threatening manner, and at length, as the weird dancer whirled rapidly round the tree-stump, the weapon was at each revolution plunged ruthlessly into the writhing body of the hapless victim, the utmost care being taken, I noticed, to avoid any vital part. Finally, when the dancer had apparently danced himself into a frenzy--when his gyrations had become so rapid that it almost made me giddy to look at him, and when his contortions of body grew so extravagant that it was difficult to say whether he was dancing on his head or on his heels--there flashed a sudden lightning-like gleam of the knife, and the head of the miserable victim fell to the ground, to be snatched up instantly and, with still twitching features, nailed between the feet of the body. A loud murmur of applause from the spectators greeted this effort of the fetish-man, in the midst of which he retired for a few minutes to the interior of the fetish-house, probably to recruit his somewhat exhausted energies. CHAPTER TEN. A FIENDISH CEREMONIAL. "Now," said Smellie as he turned once more to me, "we shall probably be again threatened on the reappearance of that bloodthirsty villain. But whatever you do, Hawkesley, maintain a bold front; let him see no sign or trace whatever of weakness or discomposure in you. The fellow's thirst for blood is by this time fully aroused, and every succeeding victim will be subjected to greater refinements of torture; all that diabolical scoundrel's fiendish ingenuity will now be exercised to devise for his victims increasingly atrocious and protracted agonies. There is one, and only one hope for us, which is that by a persistent refusal to be terrorised by him, and a judiciously scornful demeanour, we may at last exasperate him out of his self-control, and thus provoke him into inflicting upon us the _coup-de-grace_ at once and without any of the preliminary torments. Here he comes again. Now, for your own sake, dear lad, remember and act upon my advice." The first act of the wretch was to despatch his four assistants into the forest, whence they returned in a short time with three long slender poles and a considerable quantity of creeper or monkey-rope. With these, under the fetish-man's superintendence, a very tolerable set of light shears was speedily constructed, which, when finished, was erected immediately over the fire--now an immense mass of glowing smokeless cinders--in front of the idol. The entire arrangement was so unmistakably suggestive that I could not restrain a violent shudder as it occurred to me that it might possibly be my fate to be subjected to the fiery torment. All being ready, a dead silence once more fell upon the assembly, and the chief actor in the inhuman ceremonial once more looked keenly around him for a victim. As in the first instance, so now again was the wand pointed at Smellie's breast, and once more the cruel crafty bearer of it advanced on tip-toe with a stealthy cat-like tread toward us. He approached thus until he had reached to within about ten feet of the tree, when he once more paused in front of us, gesticulating with the wand and making as though about to strike with it the light blow which seemed to be the stroke of doom, keenly watching all the while for some sign of trepidation on the part of his victim. Then, whilst the wretch was in the very midst of his fantastic genuflexions before us, Smellie turned to me with a smile and observed: "Just picture to yourself, Hawkesley, the way in which that fellow would be made to jump if Tom Collins, the boatswain's mate, could only approach him from behind now, and freshen his way with just one touch of his `cat.'" There was perhaps not much in it; but the picture thus suggested to my abnormally excited imagination seemed so supremely ridiculous that I incontinently burst into a violent and uncontrollable fit of hysterical laughter (the precise effect which I afterwards ascertained Smellie was anxious to produce); so highly exasperating the fetish-man that, with eyes fairly sparkling with rage, he advanced and struck me a violent blow on the mouth with his filthy hand, passing on immediately afterwards to seek elsewhere for a victim. He had not far to seek; the miserable wretch next me on my left was so paralysed with fear that he was deemed a fit and proper person to become the next sacrifice, and almost unresistingly--until resistance was all too late--he was dragged forward into the inner circle, thrown flat upon his stomach, and his hands and feet bound securely together behind him. Then, indeed, he seemed suddenly to awake to a sense of his horrid fate; and his superhuman struggles for freedom and his ear-splitting yells were simply dreadful beyond all description to see and hear. The fetish-man and his assistants, confident of the reliable character of their work, stood back and looked on quietly at the miserable wretch's unavailing struggles; they seemed to be regarded as quite a part of the entertainment, and the unhappy creature was allowed to continue them unmolested until they ceased from exhaustion. Then, when he lay quite still, panting and breathless, with his eyes starting from their sockets and the perspiration streaming from every pore, the fetish-man approached him and deftly bending on to his fettered limbs an end of stout monkey-rope, he was dragged along the ground into the fire, and thence triced in an instant up to the shears, whence he hung suspended at the height of about a foot immediately over the glowing embers. The miserable sufferer bore the torment as long as he could, and I shall never forget the awful sight his distorted features presented as, drawing back his head as far as he could from the fierce heat, he glared round the circle seeking perchance for a hand merciful enough to put him out of his misery--but after the first minute of suffering his stoicism abandoned him, and he writhed so violently that the fetish-man and his assistants had to steady the shears in order to prevent them from capsizing altogether. And with every writhe of the victim the slender poles bent and gave, letting the miserable sufferer sink down some three or four inches nearer the fire. The superhuman struggles, the frightful contortions and writhings of the man, his ear-splitting yells, the horrible smell of roasting flesh--oh, God! it was awful beyond all attempt at description. I pray that I may never look upon such a ghastly sight again. The fiendish exhibition had probably reached its most appalling phase, and I was wondering, shudderingly, what form of torture could possibly exceed it in cruelty, when there was a sudden slight movement of my bonds; they slackened and fell away from the tree-trunk against which I leaned, and _I was free_. Not a moment was allowed me in which to get over the first shock of my bewilderment; a soft plump hand grasped mine and gently drew me round behind the tree, so rapidly that I had only time to note the fact that apparently every eye in the assembly was fixed upon the writhing figure suspended over the fire--and before I had fairly realised what was happening I found myself a dozen yards away from my starting-point, gliding rapidly and noiselessly through the deep shadows cast by the tree-trunks, towards the outer darkness which prevailed beyond the range of the fire-light; with our little black Hebe friend of a few hours before dragging me along on one side of her and Smellie on the other. Five minutes later we had left the village so far behind us that the barbarous sounds of horn and drum, mingled with the yells of anguish from the tortured victim, momentarily becoming more and more softened by our increasing distance, were the sole evidences that remained to us of its existence, and we found ourselves hurrying along through the rank grass, threading the mazes of the park-like clumps of lofty timber, and forcing a passage through the thickly clustering festoons of parasitic orchids, under the subdued light of the mellow stars alone. With almost breathless rapidity our tender-hearted little deliverer hurried us forward, frequently exclaiming in low urgent accents, "Zola- ku! zola-ku," so expressively uttered that we had no difficulty in interpreting the words to mean that there was the most extreme necessity for rapid movement on our part. We accordingly hastened our steps to the utmost limit of our capacity, and in about ten minutes from the moment of our liberation emerged upon a long narrow strip of sandy beach, with the noble river sweeping grandly to seaward before us. Here our guide paused for a moment, apparently pondering as to what it would next be best to do. Glancing down the river I saw indistinctly, at about two hundred yards distance, some shapeless objects which I took to be canoes drawn up on the beach, and pointing to them I exclaimed to Smellie: "Are not those canoes? If they are, what is to prevent our seizing one and making our way down the river without further ado?" Our little Hebe glanced in the direction I had indicated, and seemed quite to understand the nature of my suggestion, for she shook her head violently and exclaimed rapidly in accents of very decided dissent, "Ve! _Ve_!! Ve!!!" pointing at the same time to Smellie's and my own untended wounds. At that moment a loud confused shouting arose in the distant village, strongly suggestive of the discovery of our flight. The sounds apparently helped our guide to a decision as to her next step, for, seizing our hands afresh, she led us straight into the river until the water was up to our knees, and then turned sharply to the right or up stream. Pressing forward rapidly, our way freshened very decidedly by unmistakable shouts of pursuit emanating from the neighbourhood of the village, we reached, after about a quarter of an hour of arduous toil, a small creek some forty yards wide. Pausing here for a moment, our guide made with her hands and arms the motion of swimming, pointed across the creek, touched Smellie on the breast with the query "Yenu?" and then rapidly repeated the same process with me. We took this to mean an inquiry as to our ability to swim the creek, and both replied "Yes" with affirmative nods. Whereupon our guide, raising her finger to express the necessity for extreme caution, and uttering a warning "Ngandu" as she next pointed to the waters of the creek, waded gently and without raising a ripple into the deep water, Smellie and I following, and with a few quiet strokes we happily reached the other side in safety, to plunge forthwith into the friendly shadows of the forest. Had we known then--what we learned afterwards--that the word "Ngandu" is Congoese for "crocodile," and that it was uttered as an intimation to us that the river and its creeks literally swarm with these reptiles, it is possible that our swim, short though it was, would not have been undertaken with quite so much composure. Once fairly in the forest, it became so dark that it was quite impossible for us to see whither we were going, but our guide seemed to be well acquainted with the route, which, from the comparatively few obstacles met with, seemed to be a tolerably well-beaten path, so we crowded sail and pressed along with tolerable rapidity behind the slender black and almost indistinguishable figure of our leader. The pursuit, too, was hotly maintained, as we could tell by the occasional shouts and the sudden _swishings_ of branches at no great distance from us in the bush; but at length, after a most wearisome and painful tramp of fully nine miles, we got fairly out of reach of all these sounds, and finally, at a sign from our deliverer, flung ourselves down in the midst of a thick growth of ferns at the foot of a giant tree, and, despite the increasing anguish of our wounds, soon went to sleep. We awoke at daybreak, to find ourselves alone: our guide of the previous night had vanished. We were greatly disconcerted at this, for we felt that we should like to have done something--though we scarcely knew what--to mark our appreciation of her extremely important services of the preceding night. Besides, somehow, we had both taken the notion into our heads that in liberating us, she had committed an unpardonable sin against her former friends, and that when she crossed the creek and plunged into the forest with us she was virtually cutting herself adrift from her own people and casting in her lot with us. In which case, if we should succeed in making good our escape and finding our way back to the ship, we had little doubt about our ability to make such arrangements on her behalf as should cause her to rejoice for the remainder of her life at having befriended us. However, it seemed as though, having conducted us to a place of temporary safety, she had returned to the village, doubtless hoping to escape all suspicion of having had a hand in our liberation. It was a glorious morning. The sun was darting his early beams through the richly variegated foliage, and touching here and there with gold the giant trunks and limbs of the forest trees. The earth around us was thickly carpeted with long grass interspersed with dense fern-brakes, and here and there a magnificent clump of aloes, their long waxy leaves and delicate white blossoms standing out in strong relief against the blaze of intense scarlet or the rich vivid green of a neighbouring bush. The early morning air was cool, pure, and refreshing as it gently fanned our fevered temples and wafted to us a thousand delicate perfumes. The birds, glancing like living gems between the clumps of foliage, were saluting each other blithely as they set out upon their diurnal quest for food. The bees were already busy among the gorgeous flowers; butterflies--more lovely even than the delicate blossoms above which they poised themselves--flitted merrily about from bough to bough; all nature, in fact, was rejoicing at the advent of a new day. And ill, suffering though we were, we could not but in some measure take part in the general joy, as with hearts overflowing with gratitude we remembered that we had escaped the horrors of the previous night. A glance or two about us and we scrambled to our feet, intent, in the first instance, upon an immediate search for water. We had just settled the question as to which direction seemed most promising for the commencement of our quest when a clear musical call floated toward us, and looking in the direction from whence it came, we beheld our black Hebe approaching us, dragging a small dead antelope by the heels after her. So she had not abandoned us after all; on the contrary, she had probably spent a good part of the night arranging for the capture of the creature which was to furnish us with a breakfast. On joining us she held up her prize for our inspection, and then, with a joyous laugh at our approving remarks--at the meaning of which she could, of course, only make the roughest of guesses--she set to work deftly to clear away and lay bare a space upon which to start a fire, in which task, as soon as we saw what she wanted, we assisted her to the best of our poor ability. This done, she went groping about beneath the trees apparently in search of something; soon returning with two pieces of dry stick, one of which, I noticed, had a hole in it. A quantity of dry leaves and sticks was next collected, having arranged which to her satisfaction, she knelt down, and inserting the pointed end of one stick in the hole of the other, twirled it rapidly between the palms of her hands, producing by the friction thus set up, first a slight wreath of smoke, and ultimately a tiny flame, which was carefully communicated to the dry leaves, and then gently fanned by her breath into a blaze. And in this way a capital fire for cooking purposes was speedily obtained. In the meantime Smellie and I had produced our knives and had undertaken to skin and cut up the animal, some juicy steaks from which were soon spluttering on pointed sticks before the fire. The cooking operations being thus put in satisfactory progress, our little black friend borrowed my knife and plunged once more into the forest depths, to return again shortly afterwards with a huge gourd full of deliciously clear cool water. The antelope steaks were by this time ready, and we all sat down to breakfast together. For my own part, I must say I thoroughly enjoyed the meal; but I was sorry to observe that Smellie ate with but little appetite, drinking large quantities of water, however. The poor fellow made no complaint, but I could tell by his haggard look, his flushed cheeks, and his glittering eyes that it was quite time his wounds were attended to, or we should be having him down with fever in the bush, and then Heaven alone could tell when we should--if ever--be able to rejoin the _Daphne_. But we were not to be allowed to sink tamely into a state of despondency or apprehension; our sable lady friend proved to be, like the rest of her sex, a great talker, and she seized the opportunity afforded by the discussion of breakfast to plunge into an animated conversation. She began by introducing herself, which she managed in quite an original fashion. Pausing for a moment, with a piece of steak poised daintily on a large thorn, she pointed to herself and remarked "Mono;" then touched Smellie and me lightly on the breast and added "Ingeya;" "Ingeya." We nodded gravely to signify that we understood, or thought we did; upon which she pointed to herself once more and observed, "Mono Lubembabemba." "Which, being interpreted, means, as I take it, that her ladyship's name is Lubem by--something. Your most obedient servant, Miss Lubin by--" She laughed a very pretty musical little laugh at Smellie's elaborate assumption of mock gallantry and his bungling efforts to pronounce the name. "Lubem-ba-bemba," she corrected him; and this time the gallant second lieutenant managed to stumble through it correctly, at which there was more laughter and rejoicing on the lady's part. Then I was called upon to repeat the name, which, having paid the most praiseworthy attention whilst Smellie was receiving his lesson, I managed to do very fairly. Then, flushed with her success, Miss Lubembabemba made a further attempt at conversation. Pointing to herself and repeating her name, she next pointed to Smellie and asked: "Ingeya?" Her meaning was so evident that Smellie answered at once, with another elaborate bow: "Harold Smellie; at your service." "Halold-smellie-at-o-serveece!" she repeated with wide-opened eyes of wonder at what she doubtless thought a very extraordinary name. We both burst involuntarily into a laugh at this really clever first attempt to reproduce the second lieutenant's polite speech; at which she first looked decidedly disconcerted, but immediately afterwards joined heartily in the laugh against herself. "No, no, no," said Smellie, "that won't do; you haven't got it quite right _Harold_; Harold." "Halold?" she repeated. And after two or three attempts to put her right--attempts which failed from her evident inability to pronounce the "r"--Smellie was obliged to rest content with being henceforward called "Halold." Then, of course, she turned to me with the same inquiry: "Ingeya!" "Dick," said I. This time she caught the name accurately, and then, to show that she clearly understood the whole proceeding, pointed to Smellie, to me, and to herself in rotation, pronouncing our respective names. "Yes," commented Smellie approvingly, "you have learned your lesson very well indeed, my dear; but we shall never be able to remember that extraordinary name of yours--Lubemba--what is it--you know; besides, it will take us a dog-watch to pronounce it in full; so I propose that we change it and re-christen you after the ship, eh? Call you `Daphne,' you know. How would you like that? You--Daphne; I--Halold, since you _will_ have it so; and this strapping young gentleman, Dick. Would that suit you? Daphne--Halold--Dick;" pointing to each of us in turn. Her ladyship seemed to take the proposal as a tremendous compliment, for her face lighted up with pleasure, and she kept on pointing round the circle and repeating "Halold--Dick--Daphne" until breakfast was concluded. And thenceforward she refused to answer to any other name than Daphne, assuming an air of the most complete unconsciousness when either of us presumed to address her as "Lubembabemba" (the butterfly). Breakfast over, I thought it was high time to attend to our wounds. The first requirement was water--plenty of it, and this want I managed with some little difficulty to explain to Miss Daphne. Comprehending my meaning at last she intimated that a stream was to be found at no great distance; and we at once set off in search of it, our little black friend carrying along with her a live ember from the fire, which, by waving it occasionally in the air, she managed to keep glowing. We had not very far to go--most fortunately, for I saw that Smellie's wounds were momentarily giving him increased uneasiness and pain. A walk of about a quarter of an hour took us to a sequestered and most delightful spot, where we were not only perfectly concealed from chance wanderers, but where we also found a small rocky basin full of deliciously cool and pure water, which flowed into it from a tiny stream meandering down the steep hill-side. In this basin we laved our hurts until they were thoroughly cleansed from the dry hard coagulated blood, and then we set about the task of bandaging them up. Daphne, who, by the way, seemed to have little or no idea of surgery, made herself of great use to us in the bathing process, when once she understood what was required; but when it came to bandaging she found herself unable to help us further, and sorrowfully confessed herself beaten. We were compelled to convert our shirts, the only linen in our possession, into bandages; and poor Daphne, to her evident extreme sorrow, had no linen to sacrifice to our necessities, or indeed any clothing at all to speak of. The costume of a Congoese belle, according to her rendering of it, was a petticoat of parti-coloured bead fringe about twelve inches deep, depending loosely from the hips; the rest of her clothing consisting entirely--as Mike Flanaghan would have said--of jewellery, of which she wore a considerable quantity. I may as well here enumerate her ornaments, for the information and benefit of those who have never enjoyed the acquaintance of an African beauty. In the first place she wore a circular band of metal, about two inches wide, round her head and across her forehead. This band, or coronet, had a plain border of about half an inch wide, and inside this border, for about an inch in width throughout its length, the metal was cut away in very fine lines, forming an intricate and really elegant lace-like pattern. Then she wore also a very large pair of circular ear-rings, similarly ornamented, these ornaments being so large and heavy that they had actually stretched the lobes, and so spoiled the shape of what would otherwise have been a very pretty pair of ears. Upon each of her plump, finely- shaped arms, between the shoulder and the elbow, she wore four or five massive armlets of peculiar but by no means unskilled workmanship; and lastly, round each ankle she wore a single anklet of similar workmanship. On the previous night, when this rather lavish display of jewellery had first attracted my casual notice, I had imagined it to be brass; but now, seeing it again in the full light of day, I discovered it to be _gold_, almost or quite pure, as I judged from its softness. To return to our subject Daphne's first task on our arrival at the pool had been to kindle another fire; and, after helping us as far as she could to doctor our wounds, she next undertook an exploration of the forest in our immediate neighbourhood, returning in about an hour's time with three long, thin, straight shafts of a kind of bamboo, and three small uprooted saplings. These articles she forthwith plunged into the fire, and after an hour's diligent work manipulated the bamboos into three very effective lances or javelins, and the saplings into three truly formidable clubs, the knotted roots being charred and trimmed until they formed rounded heads as large as one's two fists put together. One of each of these weapons she presented both to Smellie and to me, retaining one of each for herself; and thus armed, we were ready to set out once more upon our travels. But it was high time that our wanderings should be conducted with something like method. Our object was, of course, to rejoin the ship with the least possible delay; and before making a fresh start Smellie thought it would be just as well to acquaint our companion with this our desire. He accordingly undertook to do so, and a very amusing scene resulted; but he succeeded at last in making his wish clearly understood, and this achieved we once more resumed our march. CHAPTER ELEVEN. FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. By the time that we were finally ready to start it was about noon, and the heat had become intensely oppressive. The refreshing zephyrs of the morning had died completely away, and the motionless atmosphere, rarefied by the burning rays of the sun, was all a-quiver. Not a beast, bird, or insect was stirring throughout the whole length and breadth of the far-stretching forest aisles. The grass, the flowers, the leaves of the trees, the graceful festoons of parasitic creepers, were all as still as though cut out of iron. The stagnant air was saturated to oppressiveness with a thousand mingled perfumes; and not a sound of any kind broke in upon the death-like stillness of the scene. It was Nature's silent hour, the hour of intensest heat; that short interval about noon when all living things appear to retire into the most sheltered nooks--the darkest, coolest shadows; the one hour out of the twenty-four when absolute, unbroken silence reigns throughout the African forest. Under Daphne's leadership we struck off on a westerly course through the green shadows of the forest, and toiled laboriously forward until the dusky twilight warned us of the necessity for seeking a resting-place wherein to pass the coming night. This was found at length in the centre of a wide clearing or break in the forest; and Smellie and I, at Daphne's expressively--conveyed pantomimic suggestion, forthwith set about gathering the wherewithal to build a fire, whilst the damsel herself undertook the task of providing a supper for the party. Our task was barely completed when her dusky ladyship returned with three grey parrots and a pair of green pigeons, as well as a large gourd of water, from which we eventually managed to make a very satisfying supper. A circle of fires was then built about our camping-place, and we flung ourselves down in the long grass to sleep, two at least of the party being, as I can vouch, thoroughly done up. We managed to get perhaps a couple of hours of sleep, and then our rest was completely destroyed for the remainder of the night by a well- sustained attack on the part of countless ticks, ants, and other inquisitive insects, which persisted in perambulating our bodies and busily taking sample bites out of our skins in an evident effort to ascertain the locality of the tenderest portions of our anatomy. Next morning I discovered with the greatest concern that Smellie was downright ill, so much so that it soon became evident it would be quite impossible for us to prosecute our journey, for that day at least. Daphne's distress at this unfortunate state of affairs was very keen, but she was a pre-eminently sensible little body, seeing almost at a glance what was wanted; and promptly diverting her sympathies into a practical channel, she at once set off in search of a more suitable abiding place than the one we had occupied through the night. This she at length found in an open glade at no great distance; and thither we promptly removed our patient, the rapidly-increasing seriousness of his symptoms admonishing us that there was little room for delay. Our new camping-place was a lovely spot, being an open amphitheatre of about ten acres in extent surrounded on all sides by the forest, and having a tiny rivulet of pure sparkling fresh water flowing through it. Daphne of course at once took the lead in the arrangements necessary for what threatened to be a somewhat protracted sojourn; and by her directions (it was singular how rapidly we were learning to make ourselves mutually understood) I proceeded in the first instance to clear away the grass, as far as possible, from a circular space some fifteen feet in diameter, within a few yards of the bank of the stream. Daphne, meanwhile, having borrowed Smellie's knife, went off into the forest, from which she soon afterwards returned with a heavy load of long tough pliant wands. Flinging these upon the ground, she next busied herself in lighting a fire on the partially cleared space, employing me to procure for her the necessary materials; and when a large enough bonfire had been constructed, and the embers were all red- hot, she spread them carefully over the whole of the space upon which I had been working, and thus effectually destroyed what grass I had been unable to remove. This done our next task was to cut all the wands or wattles to a uniform length of about twenty-seven feet and point them at both ends; after which, by driving the ends into the soil on opposite sides of our cleared circle of ground, we soon had complete the framework of a hemi-spherical bee-hive-like structure. A second load of wattles was, however, necessary to strengthen this framework to Daphne's liking, and leaving poor Smellie for the nonce to take care of himself, the pair of us set out to procure them. Daphne led me to a dense brake wherein immense numbers of these wattles were to be found, and leaving me to cut as many as I could carry, proceeded further afield in quest of building material of another sort I had completed my task and was back in camp preparing my load for use when Daphne returned; and this time she came staggering in under a tremendous load of palm-leaves, which I rightly guessed were to be used for thatch. So we toiled on during the whole of that day, which, like the preceding, was intensely hot, and by dusk our hut was so far complete as to be capable of affording us a shelter during the succeeding night. By mid-day of the following day it was quite finished; and an efficient shelter having thus been provided for Smellie from the scorching rays of the sun, we were then in a position to give him our undivided attention, of which he by that time stood in most urgent need. The ensuing fortnight was one of ceaseless anxiety to Daphne and myself, poor Smellie being prostrate with raging fever and utterly helpless during the whole of that time. Fugitives as we were, and in a savage country, it was quite out of our power to procure assistance, medical or otherwise. We were thrown completely upon our own resources, and we had nothing whatever to guide us in our inexperience. Daphne, to my surprise, appeared to possess no knowledge whatever of the healing art; and thus the treatment of our patient devolved solely upon me. And what could I do? I had no drugs; and had I had access to the best appointed apothecary's shop I should still have lacked the knowledge requisite for a right use of its contents. So we were obliged, no doubt fortunately for the patient, to allow Nature to take her course, merely adopting such simple precautionary measures as would suggest themselves to anyone possessed of average common sense. We provided for our patient a comfortable, fragrant, springy bed of a species of heather; cleansed and dressed his wounds as often as seemed necessary; kept him as cool as possible, and fed him entirely upon fruits of a mild and agreeable acid flavour. During that fortnight Smellie was undoubtedly hovering on the borderland between life and death, and but for the tireless and tender solicitude of Daphne I am convinced he would have passed across the dividing line and entered the land of shadows. I soon saw that this poor ignorant black girl, this unsophisticated savage, had, all unknowingly to Smellie, yielded up her simple untutored heart a willing captive to the charm of his genial manner and gallant bearing; and as the crisis approached which was to decide the question of life or death with him, the unhappy girl established herself beside him and seemed to enter upon a blind, dogged, obstinate struggle with the Grim Destroyer, with the life of the unconscious patient as the stake. As for me, I was wretched, miserable beyond all power of description. Knowing but little of Smellie, save as my superior officer, until the terrible night when we found ourselves fellow-captives doomed to a cruel death together, I had since then seen so much that was noble and good in him that I had speedily learned to _love_ him with all my heart, ay, with the same love which David bore to Jonathan. And there he lay, sick unto death, and I was powerless to help him. At length, leaving him one day under Daphne's care, I sallied forth to seek a fresh supply of fruit for him, and, wandering farther than usual afield in my misery and abstraction, I discovered a fruit-bearing tree quite new to me. The fruit--a kind of nut somewhat similar to a walnut--had a very strong, but by no means unpleasant, bitter taste, and it suddenly occurred to me that possibly this fruit might prove to be a not altogether ineffective substitute for quinine. At all events, I was resolved to try it, on myself first, if necessary, and I gathered as many of the nuts as I could conveniently carry. On my arrival at the hut I showed them to Daphne, and tried to find out whether she knew anything about them; but for once we failed to comprehend each other, and I was obliged to carry out my original intention of experimenting upon myself. With this object I opened the nuts and set the kernels to steep in water in a gourd basin (upon setting up housekeeping we soon accumulated quite a number of gourd utensils). I observed with satisfaction that the water soon began to acquire a brown colour; and after my decoction had stood for about three hours I found that its flavour had become quite as strong as was desirable. Fearing to take much at the outset, lest I should unwittingly be swallowing poison, I drank about a quarter of a pint, and then, with some anxiety, awaited the result. It was about noon when I swallowed the potion, and two hours afterwards I was more hungry than I remembered to have ever been before. So far, good; I determined to wait until night, and then, if no worse result than hunger revealed itself, try the effect of my new medicine upon Smellie. By sunset I had come to the conclusion, that whatever else my decoction might be, it was not a poison, and with, I must confess, a certain amount of fear and trepidation, I at last prevailed upon myself to administer the draught, sitting down forthwith to watch and await the result. By midnight the most that could be said of our patient was that he was no worse; and, encouraged on the whole by this negative result, I then administered a second and larger dose. Next morning I thought I detected signs of improvement, and by sundown the improvement was no longer doubtful; the dry, scorching feeling of the skin had given place to a cool healthy moisture; the pulse was slower; the fevered and excited brain at length found rest, and the patient at last even pleaded guilty to a feeling of hunger. Jubilation now reigned supreme in our palm-leaf hut; the fatted calf (in the shape of a parrot of gorgeous plumage) was killed--and devoured by the patient with something approaching to relish--and my reputation as a great medicine-man was thenceforth fully established. From this time Smellie began to slowly mend, thanks as much, probably, to Daphne's tireless nursing and assiduous care as to the relentless perseverance with which I administered my new medicine; and in little more than a week he was able, with assistance, to totter into the open air and sit for half an hour or so under the shadow of a rough awning of thatch which Daphne and I had with some difficulty contrived to rig up for him. Our little black friend still continued to devote herself wholly to Smellie, waiting upon him hand and foot, watching beside him night and day, fanning him with a palm-leaf, or feeding him on delicious fruit whilst he lay awake under his rude shelter drawing in fresh life and renewed health at every inspiration of the delicious, perfume-laden air, and snatching brief intervals of rest only whilst he slept. In consequence of this arrangement the furnishing of the larder devolved wholly upon me, and I soon acquired a considerable amount of skill in bringing down my game, principally birds, either by a dexterous cast of my club, or by means of a long reed tube, like an exaggerated pea- shooter, from which I puffed little reed darts to a great distance with considerable force. About a fortnight after Smellie had exhibited the first symptoms of improvement I went out foraging as usual, and, having secured the necessary supplies, was within a quarter of a mile of our hut, on my return journey, when I suddenly discovered a negro stealing cautiously along from tree to tree before me. His actions were so suspicious that my curiosity was aroused, and, placing myself in ambush behind the nearest tree, I resolved to watch him. He was making straight for our hut, dodging from tree to tree, and lurking behind each until he had apparently satisfied himself that the coast ahead was perfectly clear. Such excessive caution on the stranger's part, coupled with the fact that he carried four broad-pointed spears, seemed to me to indicate a purpose the direct reverse of friendly, and I came to the conclusion that it would be well to shorten the distance between him and myself a trifle, if possible. This, however, was not by any means easy to do until the skulking savage had arrived within sight of the hut, when he paused long enough to allow of my creeping up to within a dozen yards of him, when the reason for his hesitation became apparent. Smellie and Daphne were under the awning outside the hut, and my mysterious friend could advance no further without passing into the open clearing, and so revealing himself. We remained thus for fully half an hour, the savage so intently watching the couple under the awning that he had not the remotest suspicion of being himself watched. At the end of that time, the sun having set meanwhile, Smellie staggered to his feet, and, leaning on Daphne's shoulder, passed into the hut. My mysterious neighbour maintained his position for some five minutes longer, and then, springing from his hiding-place, made a dash for the hut at full speed, I following. When I emerged from the forest into the open amphitheatre in the centre of which stood our hut, the savage was some fifty yards ahead of me, running like a hunted deer. I began to fear that he was bent on mischief of some kind, and--now that it was too late--keenly regretted the indecision which had allowed him to remain so long unchallenged. In my anxiety to check his speed I raised a shout. At the sound he glanced over his shoulder, saw me in hot pursuit, and paused for an instant, dashing forward the next moment, however, more rapidly than ever. My shout was evidently heard by the occupants of the hut, for Daphne immediately afterwards appeared at the entrance. At the sight of the figure bounding toward her she uttered a little cry and put out her hands protestingly, calling out to him at the same time. I could not catch the words she uttered, and if I could have done so it is very improbable that I should have understood them, but it struck me that they conveyed either a warning or an appeal. Whatever they were, he paid no attention to them, but still rushed forward, brandishing a spear threateningly. In another second or two he reached the hut and endeavoured to force an entrance. To this, however, Daphne offered the most energetic opposition, obstinately maintaining her position in the doorway. The savage then strove to _force_ his way in, but Daphne still persisting in her opposition he drew back a pace, and, raising his arm with a savage cry, drove the broad-bladed javelin with all his brutal strength down into her bare bosom. The poor girl staggered under the force of the blow, and with a stifled shriek and an appealing cry to "Halold," reeled backward, and fell to the ground inside the hut. Meanwhile, the savage, leaving the javelin quivering in the body of his victim, turned to meet me, snatching another javelin with his right hand from his left at the same instant; and as he did so I recognised our former enemy, the fetish-man or witch-doctor of Daphne's village. I was by this time within arm's-length of him, and, quick as light, he made a lunge at me. By a happy chance I succeeded in parrying the stroke with the blow-pipe which I held in my left hand, and then, springing in upon him, I dealt him so tremendous a blow with my heavy, knotted, hard-wood club that his skull crashed under it like an egg-shell, and he fell a brainless corpse at my feet. Entering the hut I found Smellie on his knees beside the lifeless body of Daphne. "Too late, Hawkesley! you were just too late to save this poor devoted girl," he murmured. "Only a few seconds earlier, and you would have been in time to arrest the murderous blow. She is quite dead; indeed her death must have been instantaneous. See, the blade of the javelin is quite a foot long, and it was completely buried in her body; it must have passed clean through her heart. Poor girl! she was indeed faithful unto death, for it was my life that yonder murderous wretch thirsted for. You doubtless recognised him--the fetish-man who strove so hard to terrify us on the night of the sacrifice in the village! I am convinced that, in his anger and chagrin at our escape, he has patiently hunted us down, determined to make us feel his vengeance in one way if he failed in the other. Poor Daphne clearly read his intention, I am sure; and it was her resistance, her defence of poor helpless me, that brought this cruel death upon her. Well, God's will be done! The poor girl was only an ignorant savage, and it is hardly possible that she can ever have heard His holy name mentioned; but for all that she had pity upon the stranger and him who had no helper, and I cannot but believe that she will therefore receive her full reward. It only remains now to so dispose of her body that it shall be secure from violation by the birds of the air and the beasts of the field. But how is that to be done?" He might well ask. We had neither shovel nor any other appliance wherewith to dig a grave, and it was obviously impossible to do so with our bare hands alone. We at length decided to burn both the bodies, and I forthwith set about the construction of a funeral pyre. Fortunately, we had the forest close at hand; the ground beneath the trees was abundantly strewn with dry leaves, twigs, and branches, and thus I had not far to go for fuel. By the time that darkness closed in I had accumulated a goodly pile close to the edge of the open amphitheatre, and thither I at length conveyed both the bodies, laid them on the top of the pyre, and finally ignited the heap of dried leaves which I had arranged in the centre. This done, Smellie came out of the hut, and we stood side by side mournfully watching the crematory process. Naturally, we were very keenly distressed at the untimely and tragic fate which had overtaken our staunch little friend Daphne. She had been so cheerful, so helpful, and--particularly during Smellie's illness--so tender, so gentle, so sympathetic, and so tireless in her ministrations, that, unconsciously to ourselves, we had acquired for her quite a fraternal affection. As I stood there watching the fierce, bright flames which were steadily reducing her body to ashes, and recalled to mind the countless services she had rendered us during the short period of our mutual wanderings, and, above all, the fervent compassion which had moved her to a voluntary and permanent abandonment of home and friends for the sake of two helpless strangers of a race entirely alien to her own, my heart felt as though it would burst with sorrow at her cruel fate. As for Smellie, trembling with weakness and depressed in spirits as he was after his recent sharp attack of fever, he completely broke down, and, laying his head upon my shoulder, sobbed like a child. Poor Daphne! it seemed hard that she should thus, in the first bright flush and glory of her maidenhood, be struck down, and the light of her life extinguished by the ruthless hand of a murderer; and yet, perhaps, after all, it was better so, better that she should enjoy the bliss of laying down her life for the sake of the man she loved, rather than that, living on, she should see the day when all the vague, indefinite hopes and aspirations of her innocent, unsophisticated heart would crumble into ashes in a moment, and the man who, all unknowingly, had become the autocrat of her fate and the recipient of her blind, passionate, unreasoning love should lightly and smilingly bid her an eternal farewell. At length the fire died down: the crematory process was completed; nothing remained of the pyre and its burden but a smouldering heap of grey, flaky ashes; and we returned sorrowfully to our hut, there to forget in sleep, if we could, the grievous loss we had sustained. The painful incident of Daphne's death produced so distressing an effect upon Smellie in his feeble condition that another week passed away before he was sufficiently recovered to admit of our resuming our journey. By the end of that time, however, his strength had in some measure returned, and a feverish anxiety to get away from the scene of the tragedy having taken possession of him, we made what few preparations we had it in our power to make and got under weigh directly after breakfast on one of the most delightful mornings it has ever been my good fortune to witness. Our progress was, of course, painfully slow; but by this time speed was a matter of merely secondary importance, since we knew that we must long since have been given up by our shipmates as dead; and that the _Daphne_ was, in all probability, hundreds of miles away in an unknown direction. It was quite possible that on reaching the river's mouth we might have to wait weeks, or even months, before she would again make her appearance and give us an opportunity to rejoin. Day after day we plodded on through the glorious forest, following no pathway, but shaping a course as directly west as circumstances would permit, meeting with no incidents worthy of mention, picking up a sufficient subsistence without much trouble, our way beguiled by glorious prospects of wood and river, and our curiosity fed by the countless strange glimpses into the secrets of nature afforded us as we wended our way through that lonely wilderness. We slept well at night in spite of the babel of sounds which rose and fell around us; awoke in the morning refreshed and hungry; and so entered upon another day. The life was by no means one of hardship; and what was most important of all, Smellie was slowly but steadily regaining strength and progressing toward recovery. At length, late in the afternoon of the fifth day from that which had witnessed the resumption of our journey, our wanderings came unexpectedly to an end, for a time at least, by our stumbling, in the most unexpected manner in the world, upon a human habitation. And the strangest as well as the most fortunate part of it was that the habitation in question was the abode of _civilised_ humanity. We had been travelling, almost uninterruptedly, along the ridge of a range of hills, and on the afternoon in question had reached a spot where the range took an abrupt turn to the southward, curving round in a sort of arm which encircled a basin or valley of perhaps half a mile in width, open to the river on the north side. The hill-side sloped gently down to the valley bottom on the eastern, southern, and western sides, and was much more thickly wooded than the country through which we had hitherto been passing. In the very thickest part of the wood, however, and about half-way down the slope, was a clearing of some ten acres in extent, and in the centre of the clearing a very neat and pretty-looking house, with a verandah running all round it, and a thatched roof. The clearing itself appeared to be in a high state of cultivation, a flower- garden of about an acre in extent lying immediately in front of the house, whilst the remainder of the ground was thickly planted with coffee, peach, banana, orange, and various other fruit-trees. We lost no time in making our way to this very desirable haven, and had scarcely passed through the gate in the fence which surrounded the clearing when we were fortunate enough to encounter the proprietor himself. He was a very fine handsome specimen of a man, with snow-white hair and moustache, both closely cropped, and an otherwise clean-shaven face, which, with his neck and hands, were deeply bronzed by exposure to the vertical rays of the sun. He was clad in white flannel, his head being protected by a light and very finely-woven grass hat with an enormous brim, whilst his feet were encased in a pair of slippers of soft untanned leather. He was busily engaged among his coffee-trees when he first caught sight of us; and his start of surprise at our extraordinary appearance was closely followed up by a profound bow as he at once came forward and courteously addressed us in Spanish. Unhappily neither Smellie nor I understood a word of the language, so the second lieutenant answered the hail in French. The old gentleman shook his head and, I thought, looked rather annoyed, whereupon Smellie tried him in English, to which, very much to my surprise, I must confess, he responded with scarcely a trace of accent. "Welcome, gentlemen, welcome!" he exclaimed, with outstretched hand. "So you are English? Well, after all, I might have guessed it. I am glad you are not French--_very_ glad. Do me the honour to consider my house and everything it contains as your own. You have met with some serious misfortune, I grieve to see; but if you will allow him, Manuel Carnero will do his best to repair it. You have evidently suffered much, and appear to be in as urgent need of medical attendance as you are of clothing. Fortunately, I can supply you with both, and shall be only too happy to do so; I have a very great regard for the English. Come, gentlemen, allow me to conduct you to the house." So saying, he escorted us up the pathway until the house was reached, when, stepping quickly before us, he passed through the open doorway, and then, turning round, once more bade us welcome to his roof. CHAPTER TWELVE. DONA ANTONIA. The ceremony of bidding us formal welcome having been duly performed to Don Manuel's satisfaction, he turned once more and called in stentorian tones for some invisible individual named Pedro, who, quickly making his appearance in the shape of a grave decorous-looking elderly man-servant, received certain instructions in Spanish; after which our host, turning to us, informed us that his valet would have the honour of showing us to our rooms. Thereupon the sedate and respectful Pedro, who was far too well-trained a servant to betray the slightest symptom of surprise at our exceedingly disreputable appearance, led the way to two small but pleasantly situated rooms adjoining each other, and, bowing profoundly to each of us as we passed into our respective apartments, closed the doors and withdrew. The rooms in question were furnished with bed, washstand, dressing- table, etcetera, precisely in the English fashion, but the floors, instead of being covered with carpets, were bare, save for a large and handsome grass mat which occupied the centre of the room. I flung myself into a chair and was gazing complacently about me, congratulating myself upon the good fortune which had guided our wandering feet to such exceedingly comfortable quarters, when I heard Smellie's door open, and the next moment caught the tones of Don Manuel's voice. Directly afterwards a knock came to my own door, and upon my shouting "Come in," Pedro reappeared bearing upon his arm what proved to be a complete rig- out from stem to stern, including even a hat and a pair of shoes. These he spread out upon the bed, and then once more withdrew. I took the garments up and looked at them. They were just about my size, a trifle large, perhaps, but nothing worth speaking about; they had evidently been worn before, but were in excellent condition, beautifully clean, and altogether so inviting that I lost no time in exchanging them for my rags. This exchange, in addition to a pretty thorough ablution, made quite a new man of me; I felt actually comfortable once more, for the first time since leaving the _Daphne_ on the occasion of that unfortunate night attack. Smellie was still in his room, for I could hear him moving about, so I went in, curious to know whether he had fared equally well with myself. I found him struggling, with Pedro's assistance, slowly and rather painfully into a somewhat similar suit to that which I had donned; but the poor fellow, though still very thin and haggard, looked brighter, better, and altogether more comfortable than I had seen him for a long time, our new friend Don Manuel having personally dressed his wounds for him before turning him over to the hands of Pedro. The second lieutenant looked at me in astonishment. "Why, Hawkesley, is that you?" he exclaimed. "Upon my word, young gentleman, you look vastly comfortable and vastly well, too, in your borrowed plumes. Why, you are worth a dozen dead men yet." "I think I may say the same of you, my dear sir," I replied. "I am heartily glad to see so great a change in your appearance." "Thank you very much," he returned. "Yes, I feel actually comfortable once more. Don Manuel has dressed and bound up my wounds, applying soothing salves to them, and altogether tinkering me up until I am pretty nearly as good as new. But, Hawkesley, my dear boy, are we in our sober senses, or is this only a delightful dream? I can scarcely realise that I am awake; that we are actually among our fellow-men once more; and that I am surrounded by the walls and sheltered by the roof of a material house, in which, as it seems to me, we are likely to enjoy a good many of the comforts of civilisation. But come," as he settled himself into a loose white flannel jacket, "let us join our host, who, I have reason to believe, is awaiting our presence at his dinner-table. Heave ahead, Pedro, my lad; we're quite ready to weigh." Pedro might have understood Smellie's every word, so promptly did he fling open the door and bow us to follow him. Leading us along a cool and rather dark corridor, he conducted us to the front part of the house, and throwing open the door of a large and very handsomely furnished apartment, loudly announced us in Spanish as what I took to be "the English hidalgos." Don Manuel was awaiting us in this room, and on our entrance rose to greet us with that lofty yet graceful courtesy which seems peculiar to the Spaniard. Then, turning slightly, he said: "Allow me, gentlemen, to present to you my daughter Antonia, the only member of my family remaining to me. Antonia, these are two English gentlemen who, I trust, will honour us so far as to remain our guests for some time to come." We duly bowed in response to her graceful curtsey, and her few words of welcome, spoken in the most piquant and charming of broken English, and then, I believe, went in to dinner. I say, I _believe_ we went in to dinner on that eventful evening, because I know it was intended that we should; but I have no recollection whatever of having partaken of the meal. For the rest of that evening I was conscious of but one thing-- the presence of Antonia Carnero. How shall I describe her? She was of medium height, with a superbly moulded figure, neither too stout nor too slim; a small well-poised head crowned with an immense quantity of very dark wavy chestnut hair having a golden gleam where the light fell upon it but black as night in its shadows; dark finely-arched eyebrows surmounting a pair of perfectly glorious brilliant dark-brown eyes, now sparkling with merriment and anon melting with deepest tenderness; very long thick dark eyelashes; a nose the merest trifle _retrousse_; a daintily-shaped mouth with full ripe ruddy lips; and a prettily rounded chin with a well-developed dimple in its centre. Her voice was musical as that of a bird; her complexion was a clear pale olive; her movements were as graceful and unrestrained as those of a gazelle; and she was only eighteen years of age, though she looked more like two-and-twenty. We were a very pleasant party at dinner that evening. Don Manuel was simply perfect as a host, courteously and watchfully attentive to our slightest wants, and frankness itself in his voluntary explanation of the why and the wherefore of his establishment of himself in such an out-of-the-way place. Antonia, whilst not taking any very prominent part in the conversation, struck in now and then with a suggestive, explanatory, or playful remark, showing that she was was both attentive to and interested in the conversation. Smellie, more easy and comfortable, both in mind and body, than he had been for many a day, abandoned himself to the pleasant influences of his surroundings and bore his part like the cultured English gentleman he was; his deep rich melodious voice, easy graceful bearing, commanding figure, and handsome face, still pale and wan from his recent sufferings, evidently proving immensely attractive to Dona Antonia, much to my secret disgust. As for me, I am afraid I did little more than sit a silent worshipper at the shrine of this sylvan beauty upon whom we had so unexpectedly stumbled. Don Manuel informed us that, though a Spaniard by birth, he had spent so many years in England that all his tastes and sympathies had become thoroughly Anglicised; that his second wife, Dona Antonia's mother, had been an Englishwoman; that he was an enthusiastic naturalist; and that he had chosen the banks of the Congo for his home principally in order that he might be able to study fully and at his leisure the fauna and flora of that little-known region; adding parenthetically that he had found the step not only a thoroughly agreeable but also a fairly profitable one, by doing a little occasional business with the whites who frequented the river on the one hand and with the natives on the other. I thought he looked a trifle discomposed when Smellie informed him that we were English naval officers, and I am quite sure he did when he was further informed that we had been in the hands of the natives. A very perceptible shade of anxiety clouded his features when Smellie recounted our adventures from the moment of our leaving the _Daphne_; and once or twice he shook his head in a manner which seemed to suggest the idea that he thought we might perhaps prove to be rather dangerous guests, under all the circumstances. If, however, any such idea really entered his mind he was careful to restrain all expression of it, and at the end of Smellie's narrative he uttered just the few courteous phrases of polite concern which seemed appropriate to the occasion and then allowed the subject to drop. Dona Antonia, on the contrary, evinced a most lively interest in the story, her face lighting up and her eyes flashing as she asked question after question, and her parted lips quivering with excitement and sympathetic apprehension as Smellie lightly touched upon the critical situations in which we had once or twice found ourselves. To my great surprise, and, I may add, disappointment, however, she did not exhibit very much sympathy in poor Daphne's tragic fate; on the contrary, she appeared to me to listen with a feeling closely akin to impatience to all that part of the story with which the negro girl was connected; and Smellie's frequent mention of the poor unfortunate creature actually elicited once or twice a slight but quite unmistakable shrug of the lovely shoulders and a decidedly contemptuous flash from the glorious eyes of his fair auditor. I may as well at once confess frankly that, with the usual susceptibility of callow youth, I promptly became captivated by the charms of our lovely hostess; and I may as well complete my confession by stating that, with the equally usual overweening conceit of callow youth, I quite expected to find my clumsy and ill-timed efforts to render myself agreeable to my charmer speedily successful. In this expectation, however, I was doomed to be grievously disappointed; for I soon discovered that, whilst Dona Antonia was good-natured enough to receive my awkward attentions with unvarying patience and politeness, it was _Smellie's_ footstep and the sound of _his_ voice which caused her eyes to sparkle, her cheek to flush, and her bosom to heave tumultuously. So, in extreme disgust at the lady's deplorable lack of taste and discernment, I was fain to abandon my efforts to fascinate her, attaching myself to her father instead and accompanying him, gun in hand, on his frequent rambles through the forest in search of "specimens." Returning to the house one evening rather late, we found a stranger awaiting Don Manuel's arrival. That is to say, he was a stranger to Smellie and myself, but he was evidently a tolerably intimate acquaintance of our host and hostess. He was a tall, dark, handsome, well-built man, evidently a Spaniard, with black restless gleaming eyes, a well-knit figure, and a manner so very free-and-easy as to be almost offensive. His attire consisted of a loose jacket of fine blue cloth garnished with gold buttons, a fine linen shirt of snowy whiteness, loose white nankeen trousers confined at the waist by a crimson silk sash, and a pair of canvas slippers on his otherwise naked feet. He wore a pair of gold rings in his small well-shaped ears, and the gold- mounted horn handle of what was doubtless a stiletto peeped unobtrusively from among the folds of his sash. A crimson cap of knitted silk with a tassel of the same depending from its pointed crown lay on a chair near him, and completed a costume which, whilst it undoubtedly set off his very fine figure to advantage, struck me as being of a somewhat theatrical character. Don Manuel greeted him in Spanish with effusion, and yet with--I thought;--a faint suspicion of uneasiness, on our entrance, and then introduced him to Smellie and me in English, as Senor Garcia Madera. He bowed stiffly in acknowledgment, murmured something to the effect that he "no speak Inglese," and then rather rudely turned his back upon us, and addressing Dona Antonia in Spanish, evidently laid himself out to play the agreeable to her. I think we all--except Senor Madera,--felt slightly uncomfortable at dinner and for the remainder of that evening. Don Manuel indeed strove with all his might to promote and encourage general conversation, but his behaviour lacked that graceful ease which usually characterised it, his manner was constrained; he was obviously making an effort to dissipate the slight suggestion of discord which obstinately asserted itself in the social atmosphere, and I could see that he was a little ruffled at finding his efforts unsuccessful. As for Antonia, it was easy to see that the new guest was to her an unwelcome one, and his persevering attentions distasteful to her; yet, either because he _was_ a guest or for some other cogent reason, she evidently did her best to be agreeable and conciliatory to the man, casting, however, slight furtive deprecatory glances in Smellie's direction, from time to time, as she did so. Senor Madera--who was evidently a seaman and not improbably the master of a slaver--remained the guest of Don Manuel for the night, sleeping under his roof, and taking his departure very early next morning, before either Smellie or I had turned out, in fact. On our making our appearance Don Manuel referred to his late visitor, explaining that he commanded a ship which traded regularly to the river, and was one of the few individuals through whom he maintained communication with his native country. He apologised very gracefully for his acquaintance's brusque behaviour of the night before, which, whilst deprecating, he explained by attributing it to a feeling of jealousy, Madera having, it would appear, exhibited a decided disposition to pay serious attention to Dona Antonia during his last two or three visits. And--Don Manuel suggested--being like the rest of his countrymen, of an exceedingly jealous disposition, it was possible that he would feel somewhat annoyed at finding two gentlemen domiciled beneath the same roof as his _inamorata_. At this Smellie drew himself up rather haughtily, and was beginning to express his profound regret that our presence in the house should prove the means of introducing a discordant element into an affair of so delicate a nature, when Don Manuel interrupted him by assuring us both that he regarded the circumstance as rather fortunate than otherwise, since, however much he might esteem Senor Madera as an acquaintance and a man of business, he was by no means the class of person to whom he would be disposed to confide the happiness of his daughter. This little apology and explanation having been made, the party separated, Smellie retiring to the verandah with a book to study Spanish, while Don Manuel and I trudged off with our guns and butterfly- nets as usual. On our return we found that Madera had again put in an appearance, and another evening of constraint and irritation was the result. This occurred also on the third evening, after which for a short time Senor Madera, apparently conscious of the fact that his company was not altogether desirable, relieved us of his presence. Just at this time it happened unfortunately--or fortunately rather, as the event proved--that Don Manuel was confined to the house, his hand having been badly stung by some poisonous insect, and I availed myself of the opportunity to make an exploration of the neighbourhood. We had of course taken an early opportunity to acquaint Don Manuel with our expectation that the _Daphne_ would again visit the river at no very distant period, and that whenever such an event occurred we should make a very strenuous effort to rejoin her; and he had promised to use every means that lay in his power to procure for us timely notice of her arrival, pointing out at the same time the paucity of his sources of information, and suggesting that whilst it would afford him unmingled pleasure to retain us as his guests for an indefinite period it would be well for us when we were quite tired of our sojourn ashore to ourselves keep a look-out for the appearance of the ship. So on the occasion of Don Manuel's accident, finding Smellie unwilling--as indeed he was still unable--to take a long walk, I determined, as I have already said, to make a thorough exploration of the neighbourhood, and at the same time endeavour to ascertain whether the _Daphne_ was once more in the river. Madera's appearance at Don Manuel's house, coupled with the evident fact that he was a seaman, had at once suggested to me the strong probability that there must be a navigable creek at no very great distance; and I thought it might be useful to ascertain whether such actually was or was not the case, and--in the event of this question being decided in the affirmative--also to ascertain the precise locality of the said creek. Of course it would have been a very simple matter to put the question directly to Don Manuel; but he had evinced such very palpable embarrassment and reticence whenever Madera's name had been mentioned that I thought it would be better to rely, in the first instance at all events, upon my own personal investigations. So when I left the house that morning it was with the determination to settle this question before turning my attention to anything else. At a distance of about half a mile from the house the level ridge of the chain of hills was interrupted by a lofty hummock rising some two hundred feet higher than the hills themselves, affording a capital look- out; and to this spot I first of all directed my steps. On arriving at the place, however, I found the growth of timber to be so thick as to completely exclude the prospect; and the only means whereby I could take advantage of my superior elevation, therefore, was to climb a tree. I accordingly looked about me, and at last picked out an immense fellow whose towering height seemed to promise me an uninterrupted view; and, aided by the tough rope-like creepers which depended from its branches, I soon reached its top. From this commanding position I obtained, as I had expected, an unbroken view of the country all round me for a distance of at least thirty miles. The river was naturally a prominent object in the landscape, and, exactly opposite me, was about three miles in width, though, in consequence of the numerous islands which crowded its channel, the water-way was scarcely anywhere more than half a mile in width. These islands ceased about four miles lower down the river, leaving the channel perfectly clear; but they extended up the river in an unbroken chain to the very limits of my horizon. But what gratified me most was the discovery that in clear weather, such as happened to prevail just then, I could see right down to the mouth of the river, Shark Point being just discernible on the western horizon. Boolambemba Point was clearly defined; and I felt convinced that, on a fine day and with a good telescope, I should be able to see and even to identify the _Daphne_, should she happen to be at anchor in Banana Creek at the time. This important point settled, I turned my attention to matters nearer at hand, and began to look about me for the creek, the existence of which I so strongly suspected. For a few minutes I was unable to locate it; but suddenly my eye, wandering over the vast sea of vegetation which lay spread out beneath me, became arrested by the appearance of a slender straight object projecting a few feet above the tree-tops. A careful scrutiny of this object satisfied me that it must be the mast-head of a ship; and where the ship was, there, too, would be the creek. Doubtless the craft lying there so snug, and in so suspiciously secret a harbour, was the one to which our rather insolent acquaintance Madera belonged; and curiosity strongly prompted me to have a look at her. Accordingly, taking her bearings by the position of the sun, I descended the tree and set out upon my quest I estimated that she was distant from my view- point about two miles, and about one mile from Don Manuel's house. A walk of perhaps three-quarters of an hour conducted me to the edge of a mangrove-swamp; and I knew then that the creek must be at no great distance. Plunging boldly into the swamp, I made my way as best I could over the tangled roots in what I deemed the proper direction, and after a toilsome scramble of another quarter of an hour found myself at the water's edge. The creek was precisely similar in character to all the others with which I had previously made acquaintance; but so narrow and shallow at the point where I had hit it off that I saw at once, to my vexation, that I must have a further scramble among the mangrove-roots, exposed all the while to the attacks of countless hosts of bloodthirsty mosquitoes, if I would gratify my desire to see Senor Madera's vessel. And, having gone so far, I determined not to turn back until I had satisfied my curiosity; so on I went. My pace over such broken ground was naturally not very brisk, so that it was fully an hour later before I found myself standing--well concealed behind an intervening tree- trunk--opposite a small but beautifully-modelled schooner, moored head and stern close alongside the opposite bank. She was a craft of about one hundred and twenty tons register, painted grey, with very lofty spars, topsail-rigged forward, very little standing rigging, and a most wicked look all over. When I put in my unobtrusive appearance the crew were busy with a couple of long untrimmed pine spars, the ends of which they were getting ashore. A few minutes' observation sufficed to satisfy me that they were rigging a gangway; and, settling myself comfortably in a position where my presence could not be detected, I determined to see the matter out. I looked carefully for Senor Madera on board, but was unable to detect his presence; I therefore concluded that, unlikely as such a supposition seemed, he had left the ship to make an early call upon Don Manuel. The gangway was soon rigged, and after testing it by passing along it three or four times one of the schooner's crew disappeared in the bush. A quarter of an hour later he returned, closely followed by a number of armed natives in charge of a gang of slaves, who--poor wretches--were secured together in pairs by means of heavy logs of wood lashed to their necks. These slaves were mostly men; but there were a few young women with them, two or three of whom carried quite young babies lashed on their backs. And every slave, not excepting the women with children, was loaded with one large or two small tusks of ivory. These unfortunates were driven straight on board the schooner, the ivory was taken from them as they reached the deck, and they were then driven below; the _clink, clink_ of hammers which immediately afterwards proceeded from the schooner's hold bearing witness to the business-like promptitude with which the unhappy creatures were being secured. I counted them as they passed in over the gangway; they numbered sixty- three; and, judging from the schooner's size, I calculated that she had accommodation for about one hundred and fifty; her cargo being therefore incomplete, I feared we should be called upon to endure Senor Madera's presence for at least another day or two. The wretches who constituted the schooner's crew were a very noisy set, laughing, chattering, and shouting at the top of their voices, and altogether exhibiting by their utter carelessness a perfect consciousness of the fact that there were no men-o'-war just then anywhere near the river. How heartily I wished there had been a pennant of some sort at hand; I felt that I would not have cared what might be its nationality, I would have found means to board the craft, conveying the news of that wretched slaver's whereabouts, and afterwards assisting, if possible, in her capture. I remained snugly ensconced in my hiding-place until the clearing up and washing down of the decks informed me that work was over on board the schooner for that day, and then set out cautiously to return to the house. I managed to effect a retreat into the cover of the bush without betraying myself; and then, moved by a quite uncontrollable impulse, bent my steps once more in the direction of the hill-top, from which I had that morning effected my reconnaissance--though it took me considerably out of my way--determined to have just one more look round before settling myself for the evening. It was about four o'clock p.m. by the position of the sun when I once more stood beneath the overshadowing foliage of the tree which I had used as an observatory; and ten minutes later I found myself among its topmost branches. The atmosphere was luckily still quite clear, a fresh breeze from the eastward having prevailed during the whole of that day; but a purplish haze was gathering on the western horizon, and my heart leapt into my mouth--to make use of a well-worn figure of speech--when, standing out in clear relief against this soft purple-grey background, I saw, far away in the south-western board, the gleaming white sails of a ship stretching in toward the land _under easy canvas_. It was this latter fact, of the ship being under easy canvas, which so greatly gratified me. A slaver or an ordinary trader would have been pressing in under every stitch that would draw--as indeed would a man- o'-war if she were upon some definite errand--but _only_ a man-o'-war would approach the land in that leisurely manner with evening close at hand. The stranger was a long distance off--perhaps as much as twenty miles--and it was, of course, impossible to see more than that she _was_ a ship of some sort; but I had by that time acquired experience enough to know, from the tiny white speck which gleamed up against the haze, that she was coming in under topsails only. What would I not have given just then to have held my trusty telescope in my hand once more just for an hour or _so_! Suddenly I remembered having one day seen a very fine instrument belonging to Don Manuel in his own especial den. It was really an astronomical telescope; but, like many similar instruments, it was also provided with a terrestrial eye-piece, for I had looked through it across the river, and had marvelled at its far-reaching power. It was fitted to a tripod stand, but could be disconnected at will; and the bold idea presented itself to me of borrowing this instrument for a short time in order to ascertain, if possible, the nationality of the stranger. It was of course just possible that she might be English, in which event it would manifestly be Smellie's and my own duty to attempt to join her. Full of this idea I descended hastily to the ground and made my way with all speed in the direction of Don Manuel's house. The telescope was fortunately in the place where I expected to find it; and, disconnecting it from the stand and tucking it into its leather case, I set out again for the look-out tree. Arrived there, I slung the instrument over my shoulder by means of the stout leather strap attached to the case, and at once ascended to the topmost branches of the tree, where, selecting a good substantial limb for a seat, with another conveniently situated to serve as a rest for the telescope, I comfortably settled myself in position, determined to ascertain definitely, if possible, before sunset, what the intentions of the strange sail might be. I lost no time in extricating the instrument from its case and bringing it to bear upon the white speck, which, even during the short period of my absence, had perceptibly changed its position, thus proving the craft to be a smart vessel under her canvas. I soon had her focused, but found to my intense disappointment that, owing to her great distance and the rarefied condition of the atmosphere due to the intense heat of the day, I was unable to make out very much more in the shape of detail than was possible with the naked eye; the craft, as seen through the telescope, appearing to be merely a wavering blot of creamy white, with another wavering blot of dark colour, representing the hull, below it; a dark line with a spiral motion to it, which made it look like a corkscrew, representing above the sails the bare topgallant and royal- masts. This was vexatious, but the sun was still fully an hour high. By the time that he would reach the horizon the craft would probably be some seven or eight miles nearer; the atmosphere was cooling and becoming less rarefied every minute, and I was sanguine that before darkness set in I should succeed in getting such a view of the stranger as would enable me to form a tolerably accurate opinion as to her nationality and intentions. Of course I kept my eye glued almost uninterruptedly to the eye-piece of the instrument, merely withdrawing it for a minute or so occasionally to give the visual organ a rest. And gradually, as I watched, the wavering motion of the white and dark blots decreased, they grew less blot-like and more defined in their outlines, and finally I succeeded in detecting the fact that the craft sported a broad white ribbon along her sides. Then I made out that she carried a white figure-head under the heel of her bowsprit; next, that her boats were painted black to their water- lines and white below, and so one detail after another emerged into clear definition until the entire craft stood distinctly revealed in the field of the instrument. By this time I was all a-quiver with excitement, for as the approaching ship showed with ever-increasing distinctness, a growing conviction forced itself upon me that many of her details were familiar to me. Finally, just as the sun was hovering for a moment like a great ball of fire upon the extreme verge of the purple horizon, the stranger tacked. The smartness with which she was manoeuvred was alone almost sufficient to proclaim her as English, but the point was definitely settled by my catching a momentary glimpse of Saint George's ensign fluttering at her peak as it gleamed in the last rays of the setting sun. In another moment she glided gracefully across the golden track of the sinking luminary, her every spar and rope clearly defined and black as ebony, her sharply outlined sails a deep rich purple against the gold, and the broad white ribbon round her shapely hull just distinguishable. The sun vanished, and though the western horizon immediately in his wake was all aglow with gold and crimson, the light at once began to fade rapidly away. I looked again at the ship: she was already a mass of pearly grey, with a row of little dark grey dots along her side, indicating the position of her ports. I took advantage of the last gleam of twilight to count these dots twice over. There were fourteen of them along her starboard broadside, indicating that she was a 28-gun ship; she was ship-rigged, and this, in conjunction with several little peculiarities which I had recognised connected with her spars and rigging, convinced me that she was actually none other than the _Daphne_. Another look--I could just distinguish her against the soft velvety blue-black background of the darkening sea, but I saw enough to satisfy me of the correctness of my surmise, and saw, too, that--happy chance--she was clewing up her courses as though about to lay-to or anchor off the mouth of the river for the night. Then, as she faded more and more and finally vanished from the field of the telescope, I closed the instrument and proceeded to carefully replace it in its case. By the time that I had done this the glow of the western horizon had faded into sober grey, the sky overhead had deepened into a magnificent sapphire blue and was already becoming thickly studded with stars, the forest around and below me had merged into a great shapeless mass of olive-black foliage, out of the depths of which arose the deafening _whir_ of countless millions of insects; and the conclusion forced itself upon me that it was high time I should see about effecting a descent from my lofty perch if I wished to do so in safety. I had no sooner scrambled down into the body of the tree than I found myself in complete darkness, and it was with the utmost difficulty and no little danger that I accomplished the remainder of the descent. However, I managed at last to reach the ground without mishap, and, taking up my gun--which I had placed against the trunk of the tree, and without which, acting upon Don Manuel's advice, I never ventured into the forest--I turned my face homeward, anxious to find Smellie and acquaint him with the state of affairs without a moment's unnecessary delay. In due time I reached the gate in the palisading which surrounded Don Manuel's garden and passed through. In the brilliant star-light the sandy path which led up to the house was distinctly visible between the rows of coffee and other trees, and so also were two figures, a short distance ahead of me, sauntering along it toward the house, with their backs turned to me. They were evidently male and female, and were walking very closely together, so much so indeed that I felt almost certain that the arm of the taller of the two figures must be encircling the waist of the other, and from the height of the one and the white gleaming garments of the other I at once came to the conclusion that they were Smellie and Dona Antonia. My footsteps were of course quite inaudible on the light sandy soil, and the couple in front of me were consequently in a state of blissful ignorance as to my presence. Had they been aware of it I am little doubtful now as to whether it would have very greatly disturbed their equanimity. Be that as it may, I felt a certain amount of delicacy about advancing, and so showing them that I had been an involuntary witness of their philandering, so I softly stepped aside off the pathway and ensconsed myself behind a coffee-bush, thinking that perhaps they would go on and enter the house, in which case I could follow them in at a respectful distance. If, on the other hand, they did not enter, they would at all events be at such a distance from me when they turned that I might safely show myself without much fear of disconcerting either of them. So thinking, I continued to watch their receding figures, intending to step back into the pathway as soon as they were at a sufficient distance from me. But before they had traversed half the distance between the gate and the house I was startled at seeing a group of figures suddenly and noiselessly emerge upon the pathway close behind them. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. AN EVENTFUL NIGHT. What did it mean? Who were they, and what could they possibly want? I could see them clearly enough to distinguish that they wore the garments of civilisation; but they did not belong to the house: Don Manuel had only two men in his service; whereas, so far as I could distinguish in the uncertain light, there were five men in the group before me. Then, too, their actions were suspicious, their movements were stealthy, and it looked very much as though they were dogging the footsteps of the couple ahead of them for no good purpose. I did not at all like the aspect of affairs, so quietly disencumbering myself of the telescope, which I deposited on the ground, I grasped my gun, and, stepping into the pathway, shouted warningly to the second lieutenant: "Look out, Mr Smellie, you are being followed!" Immediately there was a shout, in Spanish, of "Come on, men, give it him!" and the group made a dash at Smellie and his companion. Then followed an exclamation of surprise and anger in Smellie's well-known voice, a single stifled scream from Dona Antonia, and a most unmistakable affray. With a shout I dashed up the path, and in another minute or less plunged into the thick of the melee. Smellie was beset by three of the ruffians, who were slashing viciously at him with long ugly-looking knives, and he was maintaining a gallant defence with the aid of a stout stick, the assistance of which he had not up to then been wholly able to discard in walking. I saw that if he was to be saved from a serious, perhaps even a fatal, stab, prompt action was necessary, so without waiting for further developments I cocked my gun, and, making a lunge with it at the man who seemed to be Smellie's most formidable antagonist, pulled the trigger just as the muzzle struck his side, and poured the contents of the barrel into his body. At such very close quarters the charge of shot took effect like a bullet, and the fellow staggered backwards and fell to the ground with an oath and an agonised exclamation in Spanish of: "Help, my men, help; I am shot!" The remaining two who had been attacking Smellie turned at this to assist their wounded companion; and the second lieutenant and I thereupon dashed down the path after the other two, who were hurrying off the scene with all speed, carrying Dona Antonia bodily away with them. A dozen bounds or so and we were up with them. With an inarticulate cry of rage Smellie sprang upon the man nearest him and brought his stick down upon the fellow's head with such tremendous force that the stout cudgel shivered to pieces in his hand, whilst the recipient of the blow dropped prone without a groan or cry of any kind upon the pathway. The other meanwhile had dropped his share of their joint burden and seemed inclined to resume hostilities, but a well-aimed sweep of the butt-end of my gun took all the fight out of him, and he beat a hasty retreat, leaving his companion to our tender mercies. Smellie, however, had something else to think about, for there, upon the pathway, her white dress already stained with the blood of the prostrate ruffian beside her, lay the senseless body of Dona Antonia. Raising her in his arms my companion at once made for the house, despatching Pedro, who had just put in an alarmed appearance, in advance to summon the assistance of Old Madre Dolores, Antonia's special attendant. I convoyed the pair as far as the door, and then retraced my steps down the pathway, intent on recovering the telescope, and also to reconnoitre the scene of action and ascertain whether or no the enemy had beaten a final retreat. The ground proved to be clear; so I presume that the fellow whose head Smellie had broken was not after all quite so seriously injured as he at first appeared to be. On my return to the house I found the whole place in confusion, as might naturally be expected, and Don Manuel, with his damaged hand in a sling, anxiously inquiring of Smellie whether he had any idea as to the identity of the perpetrators of the outrage. "I certainly _have_ an idea who was the leader," answered Smellie; "but I scarcely like to give utterance to my suspicions. Here comes Hawkesley; let us see whether his opinion upon the matter coincides with mine. Hawkesley, do you think you ever met either of those men before?" "Yes," I replied unhesitatingly; "unless I am greatly mistaken, the man who was so pertinacious in his attack upon you, and whom I shot, was Senor Madera." "Exactly so," coincided Smellie. "I recognised him directly; but it was so very dark down there among the trees that I scarcely cared to say as much without first having my conviction verified. I very much fear, Don Manuel, you have been grossly deceived by that fellow; if I am not greatly mistaken he is a thorough rascal. I do not say this because of his cowardly attack upon me--that I can quite account for after your explanation of a night or two ago; but his daring outrage upon your daughter is quite another matter." "Yes, yes," exclaimed Don Manuel excitedly; "the fellow is a villain, there is no doubt about that. I have never entertained a very high opinion of him, it is true; but I must admit that I was quite unprepared for any such high-handed behaviour as that of to-night." "Well," said Smellie cheerfully, "I think Hawkesley has given his ardour a cooling for some time to come, at all events; and for the rest, you will have to be very carefully on your guard for the future, my dear sir. I do not think he will venture a second attempt so long as we remain under your roof, but after we are gone--" "Which I hope will not be for some time to come," hospitably interrupted Don Manuel. "But have no fear for us, my dear Don Harold; `forewarned is forearmed,' as you say in your England, and I shall take care to render any further attack upon my daughter's liberty impossible. But come, dinner awaits us, and we can further discuss the matter, if need be, over the--what is that you call it?--ah, yes, `the social board!'" Thereupon we filed into the dining-room, and took our places at the table. And there, before the conversation had an opportunity to drift back into its former channel, I detailed my day's doings, and apprised Smellie of the important fact that the _Daphne_ was in the offing. "This is momentous news, indeed," remarked Smellie when I had finished. "We must leave you to-night, I fear, Don Manuel, reluctant as we both must be to cut short so very agreeable an acquaintance. But I trust we shall have many opportunities of visiting you again, and so keeping alive the friendship established between us; and as to Senor Madera--if Hawkesley is only correct in his conjectures as to the schooner he saw-- why, I trust we may be able to effectually and permanently relieve you of his disagreeable attentions before twenty-four hours have passed over our heads." Don Manuel bowed. "If Senor Madera is indeed the captain of a slave- ship, as I have sometimes felt inclined to believe he is," said he, "I beg that you will not permit the accident of having encountered him under my roof to influence you in any way in his favour. As I have already said, he is only an acquaintance--not a friend of mine--and if he is a transgressor against the laws relating to the slave-trade, make him suffer for it, if you can lay hands upon him. With regard to your proposed attempt to rejoin your ship to-night, I very much regret that I am only able to offer you the most meagre assistance; such as it is, however, you are heartily welcome to it. I have a canoe down in the creek yonder, and you are very welcome to take her; but she is only a small affair, and as I presume you are not very much accustomed to the handling of canoes, you will have to be exceedingly careful or you may meet with an upset. And that, let me tell you, may possibly prove a very serious affair, since the creek, ay, and the river itself, swarms with crocodiles." Smellie duly expressed his thankful acceptance of Don Manuel's kind offer, and the conversation then became general. At the conclusion of the meal Smellie requested the favour of a few minutes' private conversation with Don Manuel; and that gentleman, with a somewhat questioning and surprised look, bowed an affirmative and at once led the way to his own especial sanctum. I never actually heard what was the nature of the momentous communication which the gallant second lieutenant wished so suddenly to make to his host; but from the length of time that they remained closeted together, and the remark of Don Manuel when they at length reappeared--"Very well, my dear sir, then that is settled; upon the conditions I have named you can have her,"--I made a pretty shrewd guess at it. In the meantime Dona Antonia had reappeared, very little the worse for her adventure; she was very pale, it is true, and she became perceptibly paler when, with that want of tact which is one of my most marked characteristics, I abruptly told her that we were on the point of leaving her to rejoin our ship. But she amply redeemed this want of colour by the deep rosy flush with which she greeted Smellie's approach and the low whispered request in response to which she placed her hand on his arm and retired with him to the verandah. It was about 9:30 p.m. when they reappeared, Smellie looking very grave, but at the same time rather exultant, and poor Antonia in tears, which she made no attempt whatever to conceal. I was, of course, all ready to start at a moment's notice. We had no preparations to make, in fact, and we at once proceeded to the disagreeable task of saying farewell to our kind and generous host. It was a painful business; for though we had not known Don Manuel and his daughter very long, we had still known them quite long enough to have acquired for them both a very large measure of esteem and regard--in Smellie's case there could no longer be the least doubt that his feelings toward his hostess were even warmer than this--so we hurried over the leave-taking with all speed, and then set off down the pathway, under Pedro's guidance, on our road to the creek. It was by this time pitch dark. The stars had all disappeared; the sky had become obscured by a heavy pall of thunder-cloud; and away to the eastward the lightning was already beginning to flash and the thunder to growl ominously. Before we reached the gate in the palisading Pedro had volunteered the prognostication of a stormy night, utterly unfit for such an expedition as that upon which we were bound, and had strongly urged us more than once to follow his counsel and postpone the attempt. But to this proposition we could not, of course, listen for a moment. If we missed the present opportunity to rejoin the _Daphne_ it was impossible to conjecture when another might offer; and pleasant though our sojourn under Don Manuel's hospitable roof had undoubtedly been, it was not _business_; every day so spent was a day distinctly lost in the pursuit of our professional interests. So we plodded steadily on, and in about half an hour's time reached the head of the creek, where, carefully housed under a low thatch covering, we found the canoe. She was, indeed, a frail craft in which to undertake such a journey as ours, being only some two feet six inches beam, by about sixteen inches deep, and twenty feet long; hollowed out of a single log. She had no thwarts, and the paddlers were therefore compelled to squat tailor- fashion in the bottom of her, looking forward. This was, so far, fortunate; since she was so frightfully crank that, with such unaccustomed canoeists as ourselves, it was only by keeping our centres of gravity low down that we prevented her capsizing the moment we stepped into her. Pedro, worthy soul, detained us about twenty minutes whilst he explained the peculiarities of the craft and the proper mode of handling the paddles; and then, with Smellie aft and me forward, we bade the old fellow good-bye and boldly shoved off down the creek. The channel here being narrow, and overarched to a great extent with trees, the darkness was quite as intense as it had been on our journey from the house through the wood and down to the creek; so dark was it, indeed, that but for the lightning which now flashed around us with rapidly-increasing frequency, it would have been quite impossible for us to see where we were going. This stygian darkness, whilst it proved an obstacle to our rapid progress, promised to afford us, by way of compensation, most valuable assistance in another way, since we hoped to slip past the schooner undetected in the impenetrable obscurity; our desire just then being to avoid anything like a renewal of our acquaintance with Senor Madera so soon after our very recent little misunderstanding. Unfortunately there were two or three phenomena which combined to render this feat a matter of difficulty. The first was the vivid lightning which, at increasingly brief intervals, lit up the channel with noontide distinctness. The next was the failure of the wind; a stark breathless calm having fallen upon the face of nature like a pall, in the which not so much as a single leaf stirred; and the whole insect-world, contrary to its usual custom, awaiting in hushed expectancy the outburst of the coming storm, a great and death-like silence prevailed, through which the slightest sound which we might accidentally make would have been heard for a long distance. And another, and perhaps the worst of all, was the highly phosphorescent state of the water. This was so excessive that the slightest ripple under the bows of the canoe, along her sides, and for some distance in her wake, together with the faint swirls created by our paddles, produced long trailing lines and eddies of vivid silvery light which could scarcely fail to attract the attention of a vigilant look-out and so betray our whereabouts. We were thus compelled to observe the utmost circumspection in our advance, which was made, as far as was practicable, through the deepest shadows of the overhanging foliage. We were creeping slowly down the channel in this cautious fashion when a slight and almost imperceptible splash from the opposite bank attracted my attention. Glancing across in that direction I noticed a slowly spreading circle of luminous ripples, and beneath them a curious patch of pale phosphorescent light rapidly advancing toward us. In a few seconds it was almost directly underneath the canoe and keeping pace with her. To my consternation I then saw that it was a crocodile about the same length, "over all," as the canoe, the phosphorescence of the water causing his scaly carcass to gleam like a watery moon and distinctly revealing his every movement. We could even see his upturned eyes maintaining a vigilant watch upon us. "Do you see that, sir?" I whispered. "I do, indeed," murmured Smellie; "and I only hope the brute is completely ignorant of his ability to capsize us with a single whisk of his tail, if he should choose to do so. Phew! what a flash!" What a flash, indeed! It seemed as though the entire vault of heaven had exploded into living flame; the whole atmosphere was for a moment irradiated; our surroundings leapt out of the darkness and stood for a single instant vividly revealed; and there, too, away ahead of us, at a distance of perhaps half a mile, appeared the schooner, her hull, spars, and rigging showing black as ebony against the brilliantly--illuminated background of foliage and cloud. Simultaneously with the lightning- flash there came a terrific peal of thunder, which crackled and crashed and roared and rumbled about us with such an awful percussion of sound that I was absolutely deafened for a minute or two. When I recovered my hearing the wild creatures of the forest were still giving vent to their terror in a chorus of roars and howls and screams of dismay. The crocodile, evidently not caring to be out in such weather, had happily vanished. We had scarcely gathered our wits once more about us when the flood-gates of heaven were opened and down came the rain. I had heard a great deal, at one time and another, about the violence of tropical rainstorms, but this exceeded far beyond all bounds the utmost that I had thereby been led to anticipate. It came, not in drops or sheets, or even the metaphorical "buckets-full," but in an absolute _deluge_ of such volume that not only were we drenched to the skin in a single instant, but almost before I was aware of it the water had risen in the bottom of the canoe to a depth of at least four inches. I was actually compelled to lean forward in a stooping posture to catch my breath. For fully five minutes this overwhelming deluge continued to descend upon us, and then it relaxed somewhat and settled down into a steady downpour. "Was that object which we caught sight of some distance ahead, just now, the schooner?" asked Smellie as soon as the rushing sound of the rain had so far abated as to permit of our hearing each other's voices. "It was, sir," I replied. "Then now is the time for us to make a dash past her; they will scarcely be keeping a very bright look-out in such rain as this," he remarked. We accordingly hauled out into the centre of the stream and plied our paddles as rapidly as possible. We had been working hard for perhaps five minutes when Smellie said in a low cautious tone of voice: "Hawkesley!" "Sir?" "Do you know, the fancy has seized upon me to have a look in on the deck of that schooner. If we are duly cautious I really believe it might be managed without very much risk. Somehow I do not think they will be keeping a particularly bright look-out on board her just now. The look- out may even be stowed away comfortably in the galley out of the rain. Have you nerve enough for the adventure?" "Certainly I have, sir," I replied, a bold idea flashing at that instant through my brain. "Then keep a sharp look-out for her, and, when you see her, work your paddle so as to drop the canoe alongside under her main-chains, and stand by to catch a turn with your painter." "Ay, ay, sir," I replied; and we once more relapsed into silence and renewed paddling. Five minutes later a shapeless object loomed up close aboard of us on our port bow, and, sheering the canoe sharply to larboard, we dropped her handsomely and without a sound alongside the schooner just in the wake of her main-chains. I rapidly took a turn with the painter round the foremost channel-iron, and in another moment stood alongside my superior officer in the schooner's main-chains. Placing our heads close to the dead-eyes of the rigging, so as to expose ourselves as little as possible, we waited patiently for another flash of lightning--Smellie looking aft and I looking forward, by hastily- whispered agreement. Presently the flash came. "Did you catch sight of the look-out?" whispered Smellie to me. "No, sir," I whispered back; "did you?" "No; but I noticed that the skylight and companion are both closed and the slide drawn over--probably to exclude the rain. I fancy most of the people must have turned in." "Very probably," I acquiesced; "there is not much to tempt them to remain out of their bunks on such a night as this." "True," remarked Smellie, still in the most cautious of whispers. "I feel more than half-inclined to climb inboard and make a tour of the decks." "All right, sir!" I agreed. "Let us slip off our shoes and get on board at once. You take the starboard side of the deck; I'll take the port side. We can meet again on the forecastle." "Agreed," was the reply; and slipping off our shoes forthwith we waited for another flash of lightning, and then, in the succeeding darkness, scrambled noiselessly in on deck and proceeded on our tour of investigation. On reaching the schooner's deck we separated, and I made it my first business to carefully examine the skylight and companion. In the profound darkness it was quite impossible to _see_ anything; but by careful manipulation I soon ascertained that the former was shut down, and that the doors of the latter were closed and the slide drawn over within about six inches, as Smellie had said. It must have been frightfully hot down in the cabin, but the officers apparently preferred that to having a deluge of rain beating down below. The cabin was dimly lighted by a swinging lamp turned down very low; but I could see no one, nor was there any sound of movement down there--at which I was considerably surprised, because if the schooner really belonged to Senor Madera, as I had supposed, one would have expected to find one or two persons at least on the alert in attendance upon the wounded man. Having learned all that it was possible to learn in this quarter, I next proceeded aft as far as the taffrail, where I found the deck encumbered on both sides by two big coils of mooring hawser, the other ends of which were secured, as I had noticed earlier in the day, to a couple of tree-trunks on shore. I next proceeded leisurely forward, noting on my way the fact that the schooner mounted a battery of four brass nine-pounders on her starboard side--and of course her port battery would be the same. The main hatchway was securely covered in with a grating, up through which arose the unmistakable odour which betrays the presence of slaves in a ship's hold. All was quiet, however, below--the poor wretches down there having probably obtained in sleep a temporary forgetfulness of their miserable condition. On reaching the galley I found that the door on the port side was closed; but on applying my ear to the chink I fancied I could detect, through the steady _swish_ of the rain, the sounds of regular breathing, as of a slumbering man. Forward of the galley was the foremast, and on clearing this a faint gleam of light indicated the position of the fore-scuttle; and whilst I was still glancing round in an endeavour to discover the presence of a possible anchor-watch the light was suddenly obscured by the interposition of the second lieutenant's body, as he cautiously peered down into the forecastle. I advanced to his side and laid my hand upon his arm, at the same time mentioning his name to apprise him of my presence. "Well," he whispered, first drawing me away from the open scuttle, "what have you discovered?" I told him, adding that I thought the anchor-watch must have taken refuge in the galley from the rain, and there have fallen asleep. "Yes," whispered Smellie; "he is safe enough there, and sound asleep, for I accidentally touched him without disturbing his slumber." I thought the time had now arrived for the propounding of my brilliant idea. "What is to prevent our _seizing the schooner_, sir?" I asked. "Nothing whatever," was the reply. "I have been thinking of such a thing myself. She is already virtually in our possession, and a very little labour and patience would make her actually so. I think we are men enough to get her under canvas and to handle her afterwards, for she is only a very small craft. The great--and indeed only--danger connected with the affair consists in the possibility of their firing a pistol into the powder-magazine when they discover that they are prisoners, and so sending the ship and all hands sky-high together." "They _might_ possibly do such a thing," I assented; "but I am willing to take the risk, sir, if you are." "Well done, Hawkesley! you are made of the right stuff for a sailor," was Smellie's encouraging remark. "Then we'll do it," he continued. "The first thing is to close and fasten the fore-scuttle, which, I have already ascertained, is secured with a hasp and staple. A belaying-pin will secure it effectually; so that is the first thing we need." A loose belaying-pin was soon found; and, provided with this, we then returned to the fore-scuttle, noiselessly placed the cover in position, and thrust the pin through the staple thus effectually imprisoning the crew. "Now another belaying-pin and a rope's-end--a fathom or so off the end of the topgallant halliards will do--to secure this vigilant look-out in the galley." Armed with the necessary gear we next crept toward the galley. The question was, how to secure the man effectually in the intense darkness and confined space, and at the same time prevent his raising an alarm. The only thing was to lure him out on deck; and accordingly, whilst Smellie awaited him at the door, I went in, and grasping him by the shoulder shook him roughly, retiring again promptly as soon as I found that I had aroused him. The fellow rose to his feet hurriedly, evidently under the impression that one of the officers had caught him napping, and, scarcely half-awake, stumbled out on deck muttering in Spanish a few incoherent words which he no doubt intended for an explanation of his presence in the galley. As he emerged from the door I promptly--and I fear rather roughly--forced the belaying-pin between his teeth and secured it there with the aid of my pocket handkerchief, Smellie at the same moment pinioning him from the other side so effectually that he was rendered quite incapable of resistance. A very short time sufficed us to secure him beyond the possibility of escape; and then the next thing demanding our attention was the skylight and companion. I had already thought of a means by which these might be made perfectly secure, and I now offered the idea to Smellie for whatever it might be worth. My suggestion met with his most unqualified approval, and we forthwith set about carrying it out. There was an abundance of firewood in the galley; and, selecting suitable pieces, we lost no time in hacking out half-a-dozen wedges. Armed with these we went aft, and noiselessly closing the companion slide to its full extent firmly wedged it there. A short piece of planking wedged tightly in between the binnacle and the companion doors made the latter perfectly secure; and when we had further heaped upon the skylight lid as many heavy articles as we could find about the decks and conveniently handle between us, the crew were effectually imprisoned below, fore and aft, and the work of seizing the schooner was complete. We were not a moment too soon. The thunderstorm had all this while been raging with little if any diminution of fury, the rain continuing to pour down upon us in a steady torrent. But hitherto there had been no wind. We had barely completed our task of making matters secure fore and aft, however, when the lightning and rain ceased all in an instant. "Now look out for the wind, sir," said I to Smellie. "When the rain comes _before_ the wind. Stand by and well your topsails mind." "Let the breeze come as soon as it likes," was the cheerful reply; "we shall want a breeze to help us out of the creek presently. But we may as well get the canvas on her whilst the calm lasts, if possible; so run your knife along the lashing of that mainsail, whilst I overhaul the sheet and cast adrift the halliards." So said, so done, and in another minute the sail was loose. We then tailed on to the halliards, and after a long and weary drag managed to get the sail set after a fashion. But we had hardly begun this task before the squall burst upon us, and well was it for us then that the schooner happened to be moored in so completely sheltered a position. The wind careered, roaring and howling past us overhead, swaying and bending the stoutest forest giants as though they were pliant reeds; but down in the narrow channel, under the lee of the trees, we felt no more than a mere _scuffle_, which, however, was sufficient to make the mainsail flap heavily, and this effectually roused all hands below. The first intimation we received of this state of things was a loud battering against the inside of the companion doors, accompanied by muffled ejaculations of anger. To this, however, we paid not the slightest heed; we knew that our prisoners were safe for a time at least, so as soon as we had set the mainsail to our satisfaction I skimmed out on the jib-boom and cast loose the jib, then slipped inboard again and helped Smellie to hoist it. This done, by Smellie's order I went aft to the wheel, whilst he, armed with the cook's axe, cut the hawsers fore and aft by which the schooner was secured to the bank. The wind was very baffling just where we were; moreover we happened, unfortunately, to be on the lee side of the canal, and for a couple of minutes after cutting adrift we were in imminent danger of taking the ground after all our trouble. Between us, however, we succeeded in so far flattening in the main-sheet as to cant her bows to windward, and though the schooner's keel actually stirred up the mud for a distance of quite fifty yards, we at last had the gratification of seeing her draw off the bank. The moment that she was fairly under weigh I drew Smellie's attention to the violent pounding at the companion doors, and suggested as a precautionary measure that we should run one of the guns up against the doors in case of any attempt to batter them down, which we accordingly did; the wheel being lashed for the short period necessary to enable us to accomplish this task. Very fortunately for us the wind had by this time broken up the dense black canopy of cloud overhead, permitting a star or two to peep through the rents here and there; the moon, too, just past her second quarter, had risen, so that we now had a fair amount of light to aid us. The navigation of the narrow creek was, however, so difficult that a look- out was absolutely necessary, and Smellie accordingly went forward and stationed himself on the stem-head to con the ship. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. WE REJOIN THE "DAPHNE." The people in the cabin, finding that no good result followed their violent pounding upon the inside of the companion doors, soon abandoned so unprofitable an amusement, and I was just beginning to hope that they had philosophically made up their minds to submit with a good grace to the inevitable, when _crash_ came a bullet through the teak doors and past my head in most uncomfortable proximity to my starboard ear. Smellie looked round at the sound. "Any damage done, Hawkesley?" he hailed. "None so far, I thank you," replied I; and as I spoke there was another report, and another bullet went whizzing past, well to port this time for a change. A minute or two passed, and then came a regular fusillade from quite half a dozen pistols discharged simultaneously I should say, one of the bullets knocking off the worsted cap I wore and grazing the skin of my right temple sufficiently to send a thin stream of blood trickling down into the corner of my right eye. "You seem to be in a warm corner there," hailed Smellie; "but if you can hold on until we round this point I'll come and relieve you." "No, thanks, I would very much rather you would continue to con the ship," I replied. A minute or two later we rounded the point referred to, and, the creek widening out considerably, we began to feel the true breeze, when the schooner, even under the short and ill-set canvas we had been able to give her, at once increased her speed to about six knots. At the same time, however, she began to "gripe" most villainously, and with the helm hard a-weather it was as much as I could possibly do to keep her from running ashore among the bushes on our starboard hand. The people in the cabin were still pertinaciously blazing away through the companion doors at me, and doing some remarkably good shooting, too, taking into consideration the fact that they could only guess at my whereabouts; but I was just then far too busy to pay much attention to them. At length, fearing that, when we got a little lower down and felt the full strength of the breeze, the schooner would, in spite of all my efforts, fairly run away with me, I hailed Smellie, and, briefly explaining the situation to him, asked him to either give her the fore staysail or else come aft and trice up the tack of the mainsail. He chose the latter alternative, as leaving the craft under canvas easily manageable by one hand, and came aft to effect the alteration, hurriedly explaining that he would relieve me as soon as possible; but that there was still some difficult navigation ahead which he wanted to see the schooner safely through. He triced the tack of the sail close up to the throat of the gaff, and was about to hurry forward again, when the schooner sheering round a bend into a new reach, my attention was suddenly attracted by something ahead and on our lee bow at a distance of perhaps half a mile. "What is that away there on our lee bow, sir?" I exclaimed; "is it not a craft of some sort?" Smellie jumped up on the rail to get a better view, and at the same moment a pistol shot rang out from the skylight, the bullet evidently flying close past him. He took not the slightest notice of the shot, but stood there on the rail with his hand shading his eyes, intently examining the object we were rapidly nearing. "It is a brig," said he, "and unless I am very greatly mistaken--but no, it can't be--and yet it _must_ be too--it surely _is_ the _Vestale_." "It looks remarkably like her; but I can't make out--confound those fellows! I wish they would stop firing.--I can't make out the white ribbon round her sides," said I. "No, nor can I. And yet it is scarcely possible we can be mistaken. Luff you may--a little--do not shave her _too_ close. She has no pennant flying, by the way, whoever she may be. Ah! the rascals have pinked me after all," as a rattling volley was discharged at him through the glazed top of the skylight, and I saw him clap his hand to his side. We were by this time close to the strange brig, on board which lights were burning in the cabin, whilst several persons were visible on deck. As we swept down toward her, hugging her pretty closely, a man sprang into the main rigging and hailed in Spanish: "_Josefa_ ahoy! What's the matter on board? Why are you going to sea without a full cargo? Have matters gone wrong at the head of the creek?" "No, no," replied Smellie in the same language, which by the way he had been diligently studying with Antonia's assistance during our sojourn under Don Manuel's roof--"no, everything is all right; our cargo--" Unfortunately he was here interrupted by another volley from the cabin, and at the same time a voice yelled from the schooner's stern windows: "We are captured; a prize to the accursed Ingleses." The words were hardly out of the speaker's mouth when three or four muskets were popped at us from the brig, fortunately without effect. We were, however, by that time past her, and her crew, who seemed thoroughly mystified at the whole affair, made no further effort to molest us. Of one thing, however, we were amply assured, she was not the _Vestale_. The craft we had just passed--whilst the _double_ of the French gun-brig in every other respect--was painted black down to her copper, and she carried under the heel of her bowsprit a life-size figure of a negress with a scarf striped in various colours round her waist. _A negress_? Ah! there could not be a doubt of it. "Mr Smellie," said I, "do you know that craft?" "N-n-no, I can't say I do, Hawkesley, under her present disguise." "Disguise, my dear sir; she is not disguised at all. That is the pirate-brig which destroyed poor Richards' vessel--the _Juliet_. And-- yes--there can scarcely be a doubt about it--she must be the notorious _Black Venus_ of which the Yankee skipper told us." Smellie looked at me in great surprise and perplexity for a moment. "Upon my word, Hawkesley, I verily believe you are right!" he exclaimed at last. "The _Black Venus_--a negress for a figure-head--ha! are you hurt?" "Not much, I think," stammered I, as I braced myself resolutely against the wheel, determined that I would _not_ give in. The fact was, that whilst we were talking another shot had been fired through the companion doors, and had struck me fairly in the right shoulder, inflicting such severe pain that for the moment I felt quite incapable of using my right arm. Fortunately the schooner now steered pretty easily, and I could manage the wheel with one hand. "We must stop this somehow," said Smellie, again jumping on the rail and taking a long look ahead. "Do you see that very tall tree shooting up above the rest, almost directly ahead?" he continued, pointing out the object as he turned to me. I replied that I did. "Well, steer straight for it then, and I will fetch aft some hatch- covers--there are several forward--and place them against the doors; I think I can perhaps contrive to rig up a bullet-proof screen for you." "But you are hurt yourself, sir," I protested. "A mere graze after all, I believe," he replied lightly, and forthwith set about the work of dragging aft the hatch-covers, six of which he soon piled in front of the companion. "There," he said, as he placed the last one in position, "I think you are reasonably safe now; it was a pity we did not think of that before. Shall I bind up your shoulder for you? You are bleeding, I see." "No, thank you," I replied; "it is only a trifling scratch, I think, not worth troubling about now. I would much rather you would go forward and look out; it would never do to plump the schooner ashore now that we have come so far. Besides, there are the men down forward; they ought to be watched, or perhaps they may succeed in breaking out after all." Smellie looked at me rather doubtfully for almost a full minute. "I believe you are suffering a great deal of pain, Hawkesley," he said; "but you are a thoroughly plucky fellow; and if you can only keep up until we get clear of this confounded creek I will then relieve you. And I will take care, too, to let Captain Vernon know how admirably you have conducted yourself, not only to-night, but from the moment that we left the _Daphne_ together. Now I am going forward to see that all is right there. If you want help give me a timely hail." And he turned and walked forward. The navigation of the creek still continued to be exceedingly intricate and difficult; the creek itself being winding, and the deep-water channel very much more winding still, running now on one side of the creek, now on the other, besides being studded here and there with shoals, sand-banks, and tiny islets. This, whilst it made the navigation very difficult for strangers, added greatly to the value of the creek as a safe and snug resort for slavers; the multitudinous twists in the channel serving to mask it most artfully, and giving it an appearance of terminating at a point beyond which in reality a long stretch of deep water extended. At length we luffed sharply round a low sandy spit thickly covered with mangroves, kept broad away again directly afterwards, and abruptly found ourselves in the main stream of the Congo. Here the true channel was easily discernible by the long regular run of the sea which had been lashed up by the gale; and I had therefore nothing to do but keep the schooner where the sea ran most regularly, and I should be certain to be right. Smellie now gave a little much-needed attention to the party in the forecastle, who had latterly been very noisy and clamourous in their demonstrations of disapproval. Luckily they did not appear to possess any fire-arms: the only fear from them, therefore, was that they would find means to break out; and this the second lieutenant provided against pretty effectually by placing a large wash-deck tub on the cover and coiling down therein the end of one of the mooring hawsers which stood on the deck near the windlass. Having done this, he came aft to relieve me at the wheel, a relief for which I was by no means sorry. The party in the cabin had, shortly before this, given up their amusement of popping at me through the closed doors of the companion, having doubtless heard Smellie dragging along the hatch-covers and placing them in position, and having also formed a very shrewd guess that further mischief on their part was thus effectually frustrated. Unfortunately, however, they had made the discovery that my head could be seen over the companion from the fore end of the skylight, and they had thereupon begun to pop at me from this new position. They had grazed me twice when Smellie came aft, and he had scarcely opened his lips to speak to me when another shot came whizzing past us close enough to him to prove that the fellows still had it in their power to undo all our work by a single lucky hit. "Why, Hawkesley," he exclaimed, "this will never do; we _must_ put a stop to this somehow. We cannot afford to be hard hit, either of us, for another hour and a half at least. What is to be done? How does your shoulder feel? Can you use your right arm?" "I am afraid I cannot," I replied; "my shoulder is dreadfully painful, and my arm seems to have no strength in it. But I can steer easily with one hand now?" "How many people do you think there are in the cabin?" was Smellie's next question. "I can scarcely say," I replied; "but I have only been able to distinguish _three_ voices so far." "Three, eh? The skipper and two mates, I suppose." He ruminated a little, stepped forward, and presently returned with a rather formidable-looking iron bar he had evidently noticed some time before; and coolly remarked as he began to drag away the hatch-covers from before the companion: "I am going down below to give those fellows their _quietus_. If I do not, there is no knowing what mischief they may yet perpetrate before we get the--what was it those fellows called her?--ah! the _Josefa_--before we get the _Josefa_ under the _Daphne's_ guns. Now, choose a star to steer by before I remove any more of this lumber, and then sit down on deck as much on one side as you can get; I shall try to draw their fire and then rush down upon them." With that he removed his jacket and threw it loosely over the iron bar, which he laid aside for the moment whilst he cleared away the obstructions from before the doors. Then, taking up the coat and holding it well in front of the opening so as to produce in the uncertain light the appearance of a figure standing there, he suddenly flung back the slide and threw open the doors. The immediate results were a couple of pistol shots and a rush up the companion-ladder, the latter of which Smellie promptly stopped by swinging his somewhat bulky carcass into the opening and letting himself drop plump down upon the individuals who were making it. There was a scuffle at the bottom of the ladder, another pistol shot, two or three dull crushing blows, another brief scuffle, and then Smellie reappeared, with blood flowing freely from his left arm, and a truculent-looking Spaniard in tow. This fellow he dragged on deck, and unceremoniously kicking his feet from under him, lashed him securely with the end of the topgallant brace. This done, he once more dived below, and in due time two more Spaniards, senseless and bleeding, were brought up out of the cabin and secured. "There," he said, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, "I think we shall now manage to make the rest of our trip unmolested, and without having constantly before our eyes the fear of being blown clear across the Congo. Let me take the wheel; I am sure you must be sadly in need of a spell. But before you do anything else I will get you to clap a bandage of some sort round my arm here; I am bleeding so profusely that I think the bullet must have severed an artery. Here is my handkerchief, clap it round the arm and haul it as taut as you can; the great thing just now is to stop the bleeding; Doctor Burnett will do all that is necessary for us when we reach the sloop." I bound up his arm after a fashion, making a good enough job of it to stop the bleeding, and then went forward to keep a look-out. We were foaming down the river at a tremendous pace, the gale being almost dead fair for us, and having the additional impetus of a red-hot tide under foot we swept down past the land as though we had been a steamer. Sooth to say, however, I scarcely felt in cue just then either to admire the _Josefa's_ paces or to take much note of the wonderful picture presented by the river, with its brown mud-tinted waters lashed into fury by the breath of the tropical tempest and chequered here and there with the shadows of the scurrying clouds, or lighted up by the phosphorescence which tipped each wave with a crest of scintillating silvery stars. The wound in my shoulder was every moment becoming more excruciatingly painful and more exacting in its demands upon my attention; my interest seemed to centre itself upon the _Daphne_ and her surgeon; and it was with a feeling of ineffable relief that, on jibing round Shark Point, about an hour and a half after clearing the creek, I saw at a distance of about seven miles away an indistinct object off Padron Point which I knew must be the _Daphne_ at anchor. "Do you see the sloop, sir?" I hailed. "No," returned Smellie from his post at the wheel, stooping and peering straight into the darkness. "I cannot make her out from here. Do you see her?" "Yes, sir," I replied joyously; "there she is, broad on our port bow. Luff, sir, you may." "Luff," I heard Smellie return; and the schooner's bows swept round until they pointed fair for the distant object. "Steady, sir!" "Steady it is," replied Smellie, his voice sounding weird and mournful above the roar of the wind and the wash of the sea. I managed to trim over the jib-sheet without assistance, and then leaned over the bulwarks watching the gradual way in which the small dark blot on the horizon swelled and developed into a stately ship with lofty masts, long yards, and a delicate maze of rigging all as neat and trig as though she had but just emerged from the dockyard. The sea being quite smooth after we had once rounded Shark Point, we made the run down to the sloop in about an hour, passing to windward of her, and then jibing over and rounding-to on her lee quarter, with our jib-sheet to windward. As we approached the sloop I noticed that lights were still burning in the skipper's cabin, and I thought I could detect a human face or two peering curiously out at us from the ports. The dear old hooker was of course riding head to wind, and as we swept down across her bows within easy hailing distance a figure suddenly appeared standing on the knight- heads, and Armitage's voice rang out across the water with the hail of: "Schooner ahoy!" "Hillo!" responded Smellie. A slight and barely perceptible pause; and then-- "What schooner is that?" "The _Josefa_, slave schooner. Is that Mr Armitage?" "Ay, ay, it is. Who may you be, pray?" I had by this time gone aft and was standing by Smellie's side. The schooner was just jibing over and darting along on the _Daphne's_ starboard side. "Armitage evidently has not recognised my voice as yet," remarked Smellie, "or else," he added, "they have given us up on board as dead, and he is unable so suddenly to realise the fact of our being still alive." Then, as we finally rounded-to under the _Daphne's_ quarter, Armitage reappeared aft, and the confab was renewed, Smellie this time taking the lead. "_Daphne_ ahoy!" he hailed, "has Captain Vernon yet retired for the night?" "I think not," was the reply. "What do you want?" "Kindly pass the word to him that Mr Smellie and Mr Hawkesley are alongside in a captured slaver: and say we shall feel greatly obliged if he will send a prize crew on board us to take possession." "Ay, ay! I will." Armitage thereupon disappeared, and, we being at the time to leeward of the sloop, a slight but distinct commotion became perceptible on board her. Presently a figure appeared in the fore-rigging, and a deep, gruff, hoarse voice hailed: "Schooner ahoy! Did you say as Mr Smellie and Mr Hawkesley was on board you?" "Yes I did. Do you not recognise my voice, Collins?" "Ay, ay, sir! in course I does _now_," was the boatswain's hearty response. Then there followed, in lower tones, certain remarks of which we could only catch such fragments as: "--lieutenant hisself, by--reefer, too;--man--rigging, you sea-dogs-- give--sailors' welcome." Then in an instant the lower rigging became black with the figures of the men, and, with Collins as fugleman, they greeted our unexpected return with three as hearty cheers as ever pealed from the throats of British seamen. For the life of me I could not just then have spoken a word had it been ever so necessary. That hearty ringing British cheer gave me the first convincing assurance that I was once more _safe_ and among friends, and, at the same time, enabled me to _fully_ realise, as I never had before, the extreme peril to which I had been exposed since I last saw the craft that lay there rolling gracefully upon the ground-swell, within a biscuit toss of us. The men were just clearing the rigging when a small slight figure appeared on the sloop's quarter, and Captain Vernon's voice hailed us through the speaking-trumpet: "Schooner ahoy! How many hands shall I send you?" "A dozen men will be sufficient, sir," replied Smellie. "And I shall feel obliged if you will send with them the necessary officers to relieve us. We are both hurt, and in need of the doctor's services." "You shall have the men at once," was the reply. "Shall I send Burnett to you, or can you come on board the sloop?" "We will rejoin the sloop, sir, thank you. Our injuries are not very serious," replied Smellie. "Very well, be it so," returned the skipper; and there the conversation ended. The next moment the clear _tee-tee-tweetle-tweetle-weetle-wee-e-e_ of the boatswain's whistle came floating down to us, followed by his gruff "Cutters away!" and presently we saw the boat glide down the ship's side, and, after a very brief delay, shove off and come sweeping down toward us. Five minutes later the prize crew, under Williams, the master's mate, with young Peters, a fellow mid of mine, as his second in command, stood upon the schooner's deck, and Mr Austin, who had accompanied them, was wringing our hands as though he would wring them off. Smellie saw the exquisite agony which our warm-hearted "first luff" was unconsciously inflicting upon _me_ by his effusive greeting, and thoughtfully interposed with a-- "Gently, Edgar, old fellow. I am afraid you are handling poor Hawkesley a little roughly. He has received rather a bad hurt in the right shoulder to-night in our fight with the schooner's people." "Fight!--schooner's people! I beg your pardon, Hawkesley; I hope I haven't hurt you. Why, you never mean to say you have had to _fight_ for the schooner?" Austin interrupted, aghast. "Well, we _took_ her by surprise; but her people proved very troublesome, and very pertinacious in their efforts to get her back again," Smellie replied. "But, come, let us get on board the old _Daphne_ once more. I long to set foot on her planks again; and, like Hawkesley here, I shall not be sorry to renew my acquaintance with Burnett." So said, so done. We made our way into the boat, leaving the prize crew to secure the prisoners, and a few minutes later stood once more safe, if not altogether sound, on the deck of the dear old _Daphne_. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. A STERN CHASE--AND A FRUITLESS ONE. "Welcome back to the _Daphne_, gentlemen!" exclaimed Captain Vernon as he met us at the gangway and extended his hand, first to Smellie and then to me. "This is indeed a pleasant surprise--for all hands, I will venture to say, though Armitage loses his step, at least _pro tem_., in consequence of your reappearance, Mr Smellie. But he is a good-hearted fellow, and when he entered my cabin to report you alongside, though he seemed a trifle incredulous as to your personality, he was as delighted as a schoolboy at the prospect of a holiday." Smellie took the skipper's extended hand, and after replying suitably to his greeting, said: "I must beg you will excuse Hawkesley, sir, if he gives you his left instead of his right hand. His starboard shoulder has been disabled to- night by a pistol-bullet whilst supporting me most intrepidly in the task of bringing out the schooner." The skipper seized my left hand with his right, and pressing it earnestly yet gently, said: "I am proud and pleased to hear so gratifying an account of you, Hawkesley. Mr Armitage has already borne witness to your gallantry during the night attack upon the slavers; and it was with deep and sincere sorrow that I received the news of your being, with Mr Smellie, missing. I fear, gentlemen, your friends at home will suffer a great deal of, happily unnecessary, sorrow at the news which I felt it my duty to send home; but that can all be repaired by your personally despatching to them the agreeable intelligence of your both being still in the land of the living. But what of your hurts? Are they too serious to be attended to in my cabin? They are not? I am glad to hear that. Then follow me, both of you, please; for I long to hear where you have been, what doing all this time, and how you happened to turn up so opportunely here to-night I will send for Burnett to bring his tools into my cabin; and you can satisfy my curiosity whilst he is doing the needful for you. Will you join us, Austin? I'll be bound your ears are tingling to hear what has befallen these wandering knights." Thereupon we filed down below in the skipper's wake--I for one being most heartily thankful to find myself where I could once more sit down and rest my aching limbs. The skipper's steward brought out some wine and glasses, and then at Burnett's request--that individual having promptly turned up--went away to get ready some warm water. "I think," said our genial medico, turning to me, "_you_ look in most urgent need of my services, so I will begin with you, young gentleman, if you please. Now whereabouts are your hurts?" I told him, and he straightway began to cut away the sleeve of my coat and shirt, preparatory to more serious operations; whilst Smellie, drawing his chair up to the table, helped himself to a glass of wine, and then said: "Before I begin my story, sir, will you permit me to ask what was the ultimate result of that most disastrous expedition against the slavers? I am naturally anxious to know, of course, seeing that upon my shoulders rests the odium of our failure." Captain Vernon stared hard at the second lieutenant for a minute, and then said: "My dear Smellie, what in the world are you talking about? Disaster! Odium! Why, man, the expedition was a _success_, not a failure. I admit that there was, most unfortunately, a very serious loss of life among the unhappy slaves; but we took the brigantine and afterwards raised the schooner, with a loss to ourselves of only four killed--now that you two have turned up. It was a most dashing affair, and admirably conducted, when we take into consideration the elaborate preparations which had been evidently made for your reception; and the _ultimate result_ about which you inquire so anxiously will, I hope, be a nice little bit of prize-money to all hands, and richly deserved promotion to yourself, Armitage, and young Williams." It was now Smellie's turn to look surprised. "You astonish me, sir," he said. "The last I remember of the affair is that, after a most stubborn and protracted fight, in which the schooner was sunk, we succeeded in gaining possession of the brig, only to be blown out of her a few minutes later, however; and my own impression-- and Hawkesley's too, for that matter, as I afterwards discovered on comparing notes with him--was that our losses must have amounted to at least half of the men composing the expedition." "Well," said Captain Vernon, "I am happy to tell you that you were mistaken. Our total loss over that affair amounts to four men killed; but the severity of the fight is amply testified to by the fact that not one man out of the whole number escaped without a wound of some kind, more or less serious. They have all recovered, however, I am happy to say, and we have not at present a sick man in the ship. There can be no doubt that the slavers somehow received timely notice of our presence in the river, through the instrumentality of your fair-speaking friend, the skipper of the _Pensacola_, I strongly suspect, and that they made the best possible use of the time at their disposal. Had I been as wise then as I am now my arrangements would have been very different. However, it is easy to be wise after the event; and I am thankful that matters turned out so well. And now, I think we are fairly entitled to hear your story." Thereupon Smellie launched out into a detailed recital of all that had befallen us from the moment of the explosion on board the brig up to our unexpected arrival that same night alongside the _Daphne_. He was interrupted by countless exclamations of astonishment and sympathy; and when he had finished there seemed to be no end to the questions which one and another was anxious to put to him. In the midst of it all, however, Burnett broke in with the announcement that, having finished with me, he was ready to attend to the second lieutenant. The worthy medico's attentions to me had been, as may be gathered from the fact that they outlasted Smellie's story, of somewhat protracted duration, and that they were of an exceedingly painful character I can abundantly testify, the ball having broken my shoulder-blade and then buried itself among the muscles of the shoulder, whence Burnett insisted on extracting it, in spite of my protestations that I was quite willing to postpone that operation to a more convenient season. After much groping and probing about, however, utterly regardless of the excruciating agony he thus inflicted upon me, the conscientious Burnett had at last succeeded in extracting the ball, which he kindly presented to me as a memento, and then the rest of the work was, comparatively speaking, plain sailing. My wound was washed, dressed, and made comfortable; and I was dismissed with a strict injunction to turn-in at once. To this the skipper moved, as an amendment, that I be permitted to drink a single glass of wine before retiring; and whilst I was sipping this they turned upon me with their questions, with the result that I soon forgot all about my hammock. At length Captain Vernon said: "By-the-by, Hawkesley, what sort of a young lady is this Dona Antonia whom Mr Smellie has mentioned once or twice?" "She is simply the most lovely creature I have ever seen, sir," I replied enthusiastically. "--And my promised wife," jerked in Smellie, in a tone which warned all hands that there must be no jocularity in connection with the mention of the dona's name. "Ho, ho!" ejaculated the skipper with a whistle of surprise. "That is how the wind blows, is it? Upon my word, Smellie, I heartily congratulate you upon your conquest. Quite a romantic affair, really. And pray, Mr Hawkesley, what success have _you_ met with in Cupid's warfare?" "None whatever, sir," I replied with a laugh. "The only other lady in Don Manuel's household was old Dolores, Dona Antonia's attendant, and I was positively afraid to try the effect of my fascinations upon her." "Lest you should prove only _too_ successful," laughed the skipper. "By the way, Smellie, do you think this Don Manuel was quite plain and above-board with you? I suppose _he_ does nothing in the slave-trading business, eh?" "I think not, sir; though he undoubtedly possesses the acquaintance of a certain Senor Madera, a most suspicious-looking character, whose name I have already mentioned to you--by the way, Hawkesley, you were evidently mistaken as to the _Josefa_ belonging to Madera; he was nowhere to be found on board her." "What is it, Mr Armitage?" said the skipper just then, as the third lieutenant made his appearance at the door. "A vessel, apparently a brig, sir, has just come into view under the northern shore, evidently having just left the river. She is hugging the land very closely, keeping well under its shadow, in fact, and has all the appearance of being anxious to avoid attracting our attention." The skipper glanced interrogatively at Smellie, who at once responded to the look by saying: "The _Black Venus_, without doubt. I expect that our running away with the _Josefa_ has given them the alarm, and they have determined to slip out whilst the option remains to them, and take their chance of being able to give us the slip." "They shall not do that if I can help it," remarked the skipper energetically; and, rising to his feet, he gave orders for all hands to be called forthwith. This broke up the party in the cabin, much to the gratification of Burnett, who now insisted that both Smellie and I should retire to our hammocks forthwith, and on no account presume to leave them again until we had his permission. I was not very long in undressing, having secured the services of a marine to assist me in the operation; but before I had gained my hammock I was rejoined by Keene, a brother mid, whose watch it was below, and who brought me down the news that the sloop was under weigh and fairly after the stranger, who, as soon as our canvas dropped from the yards, had squared away on a westerly course with the wind on her quarter and a whole cloud of studding-sails set to windward. What with the excitement of finding myself once more among so many friends and the pain of my wound it was some time before I succeeded in getting to sleep that night; and before I did so the _Daphne_ was rolling like an empty hogshead, showing how rapidly she had run off the land and into the sea knocked up by the gale. When I awoke next morning the wind had dropped to a considerable extent, the sea had gone down, and the ship was a great deal steadier under her canvas. I was most anxious to leave my hammock and go on deck, but this Burnett would not for a moment consent to; my wound was very much inflamed and exceedingly painful, the result, doubtless, of the probing for the bullet on the night before; and instead of being allowed to turn out I was removed in my hammock, just as I was, to the sick bay. I was ordered to keep very quiet, but I managed to learn, nevertheless, that the chase was still in sight directly ahead, about nine miles distant, and that, though she certainly was not running away from us, there seemed to be little hope of our overtaking her for some time to come. Matters remained in this unsatisfactory state for the next five days, the _Daphne_ keeping the chase in sight during the whole of that time, but failing to come up with her. The distance between the two vessels varied according to the weather, the chase appearing to have the best of it in a strong breeze, whilst the _Daphne_ was slightly the faster of the two in light airs. Unfortunately for us, the wind continued very nearly dead fair, or about three points on our starboard quarter, whereas the sloop seemed to do best with the wind abeam. We would not have objected even to a moderate breeze dead in our teeth, our craft being remarkably fast on a taut bowline; and as day after day went by without any apparent prospect of an end of the chase the barometer was anxiously watched, in the hope that before long we should be favoured with a change of weather. On the morning of the fifth day I was so much better that, acceding to my urgent request, Burnett consented, with many doubtful shakes of the head, to my leaving my hammock and taking the air on deck for an hour or two. I accordingly dressed as rapidly as possible, and got on deck just in time to catch sight of the chase, about six miles distant, before a sea mist settled down on the scene, which soon effectually concealed her from our view. This was particularly exasperating, since, the wind having dropped to about a five-knot breeze, we had been slowly but perceptibly gaining on her for the last three or four hours; and now, when at length there appeared a prospect of overtaking her, a chance to elude us in the fog had presented itself. Of course it was utterly impossible to guess what ruse so wary a foe would resort to, but that he would have recourse to one of some kind was a moral certainty. Captain Vernon at once took counsel with his first and second lieutenants as to what course it would be most advisable to adopt under the circumstances, and it was at last decided to put the ship upon a wind, and make short tacks to the eastward until the fog should clear, it being thought highly probable that the chase would likewise double back upon her former course in the hope of our running past her in the fog. The studding-sails were accordingly taken in, and the ship brought to the wind on the starboard tack. We made short reaches, tacking every hour, and had gone about for the third time when, just as the men were coiling up the ropes fore and aft, the look-out reported: "Sail, ho! straight ahead. Hard up, sir, or you will be into her." Mr Austin, who had charge of the deck, sprang upon a gun, and peered out eagerly ahead. "Hard over, my man, _hard_ over!" he exclaimed excitedly; then continued, after a moment of breathless suspense: "All clear, all clear! we have _just_ missed her, and that is all. By Jove, Hawkesley, that was a narrow squeak, eh? Why, it is surely the _Vestale_! _Vestale_ ahoy!" "Hillo!" was the response from the other craft, indubitably the brig which we had fallen in with shortly after our first look into the Congo, and which we had been given to understand was the _Vestale_, French gun- brig. "Have you sighted a sail of any kind to-day?" hailed Austin. "Non, mon Dieu! We have not nevaire seen a sail until now since we leave Sierra Leone four weeks ago." This ended the communication between the two ships, the _Vestale_--or whatever she was--disappearing again into the fog before the last words of the reply to our question had been uttered. "Well," said Mr Austin, as he jumped down off the gun, "I am disappointed. When I first caught sight of that craft close under our bows I thought for a moment that we had made a clever guess; that the chase had doubled on her track, and that, by a lucky accident, we had stumbled fairly upon her in the fog. But as soon as I caught sight of the white figure-head and the streak round her sides I saw that I was mistaken. Well, we _may_ drop upon the fellow yet. I would give a ten- pound note this instant if the fog would only lift." "I cannot understand it for the life of me," I replied in a dazed sort of way, as I stepped gingerly down off the gun upon which I, like the first lieutenant, had jumped in the first of the excitement. Mr Austin looked at me questioningly. "What is it that you cannot understand, Hawkesley?" he asked. "That brig--the _Vestale_, as she calls herself--and all connected with her," I answered. "Why, what _is_ there to understand about her? Or rather, what is there that is incomprehensible about her?" he asked sharply. "_Everything_," I replied eagerly. "In the first place, we have only the statement of one man--and he a member of her own crew--that she actually _is_ the veritable _Vestale_, French gun-brig, which we know to be cruising in these waters. Secondly, her very extraordinary resemblance to the _Black Venus_, which, as you are aware, I have seen, absolutely _compels_ me, against my better judgment, to the belief that the two brigs are, in some mysterious way, intimately associated together, if, indeed, they are not absolutely _one and the same vessel_. And thirdly, my suspicion that the latter is the case receives strong confirmation from the fact that on _both_ occasions when we have been after the one--the _Black Venus_--we have encountered the other--the _Vestale_." Mr Austin stared at me in a very peculiar way for a few minutes, and then said: "Well, Hawkesley, your last assertion is undoubtedly true; but what does it prove? It can be nothing more than a curious coincidence." "So I have assured myself over and over again, when my suspicions were strengthened by the first occurrence of the coincidence; and so I shall doubtless assure myself over and over again during the next few days," I replied. "But if a coincidence only it is certainly curious that it should have occurred on two occasions." "I am not quite prepared to admit that," said the first lieutenant. "And, then, as to the remarkable resemblance between the two vessels, do you not think, now, honestly, Hawkesley, that your very extraordinary suspicions may have magnified that resemblance?" "No," said I; "I do not. I only wish Mr Smellie had been on deck just now to have caught a glimpse of that inexplicable brig; he would have borne convincing testimony to the marvellous likeness between them. Why, sir, but for the white ribbon round the one, and the difference in the figure-heads, the two craft would be positively indistinguishable; so completely so, indeed, that poor Richards was actually unable to believe the evidence of his own senses, and, I firmly believe, was convinced of the identity of the two vessels." "Indeed!" said Mr Austin in a tone of great surprise. "That is news to me. So Richards shared your suspicions, did he?" "He did, indeed, sir," I replied. "It was, in fact, his extraordinary demeanour on the occasion of our second encounter with the _Vestale_-- you will remember the circumstance, sir?--which confirmed my suspicions; suspicions which, up to then, I had attributed solely to some aberration of fancy on my part. Then, again, when we questioned the skipper of the _Pensacola_ relative to the _Black Venus_ and the _Vestale_, how evasive were his replies!" "Look here, Hawkesley; you have interested me in spite of myself," said Mr Austin. "If you are not too tired I should like you to tell me the whole history of these singular suspicions of yours from the very moment of their birth." "I will, sir, with pleasure. They arose with Monsieur Le Breton's visit to us on the occasion of our first falling in with the _Vestale_," I replied. And then having at last finally broached the subject which had been for so long a secret source of mental disquiet to me, I fully detailed to the first luff all those suspicious circumstances--trifling in themselves but important when regarded collectively--which I have already confided to the reader. When I had finished he remained silent for a long time, nearly a quarter of an hour I should think, with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes bent on the deck, evidently cogitating deeply. Finally he emerged from his abstraction with a start, cast an eye aloft at the sails, and then turning to me said: "You have given me something to think about now with a vengeance, Hawkesley. If indeed your suspicions as to the honesty of the _Vestale_ should prove well-founded, your mention of them and the acute perception which caused you in the first instance to entertain them will constitute a very valuable service--for which I will take care that you get full credit--and may very possibly lead to the final detection and suppression of a series of hitherto utterly unaccountable transactions of a most nefarious character. At all events we can do no harm by keeping a wary eye upon this alleged _Vestale_ for the future, and I will make it my business to invent some plausible pretext for boarding her on the first opportunity which presents itself. And now I think you have been on deck quite as long as is good for you, so away you go below again and get back to your hammock. Such a wound as yours is not to be trifled with in this abominable climate; and you know,"--with a smile half good-humoured and half satirical--"we must take every possible care of a young gentleman who seems destined to teach us, from the captain downwards, our business. There, now, don't look hurt, my lad; you did quite right in speaking to me, and I am very much obliged to you for so doing; I only regret that you did not earlier make me your confidant. Now away you go below at once." I of course did dutifully as I was bidden, and, truth to tell, was by no means sorry to regain my hammock, having soon found that my strength was by no means as great as I had expected. That same night I suffered from a considerable accession of fever, and in fine was confined to my hammock for rather more than three weeks from that date, at the end of which I became once more convalescent, and--this time observing proper precautions and a strict adherence to the doctor's orders--finally managed to get myself reported as once more fit for duty six weeks from the day on which Smellie and I rejoined the _Daphne_. I may as well here mention that the fog which so inopportunely enveloped us on the day of my conversation with Mr Austin did not clear away until just before sunset; and when it did the horizon was clear all round us, no trace of a sail being visible in any direction from our main-royal yard. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. A VERY MYSTERIOUS OCCURRENCE. In extreme disgust at the loss of the notorious _Black Venus_ Captain Vernon reluctantly gave orders for the resumption of the cruise, and the _Daphne_ was once more headed in for the land, it being the skipper's intention to give a look in at all the likely places along the coast as far north as the Bight of Benin. This was terribly tedious and particularly trying to the men, it being all boat work. The exploration of the Fernan Vas river occupied thirty hours, whilst in the case of the Ogowe river the boats were away from the ship for four days and three nights; the result being that when at last we went into Sierra Leone we had ten men down with fever, and had lost four more from the same cause. The worst of it all was that our labour had been wholly in vain, not a single prize being taken nor a suspicious craft fallen in with. Here we found Williams and the prize crew of the _Josefa_ awaiting us according to instructions; so shipping them and landing the sick men Captain Vernon lost no time in putting to sea once more. On leaving Sierra Leone a course was shaped for the Congo, and after a long and very tedious passage, during the whole of which we had to contend against light head-winds, we found ourselves once more within sight of the river at daybreak. It was stark calm, with a cloudless sky, and a long lazy swell came creeping in from the southward and eastward causing the sloop to roll most uncomfortably. We were about twelve miles off the land; and at about half-way between us and it, becalmed like ourselves, there lay a brig, which our telescopes informed us was the _Vestale_. On this fact being decisively ascertained Mr Austin came up to me and said: "There is your _bete noire_, the _Vestale_, once more, you see, Hawkesley. I have been thinking a great deal about what you said to me some time ago respecting her, and I have come to the conclusion that it is quite worth our while to look into the matter, at least so far as will enable us to judge whether your suspicions are wholly groundless or not. If they are--if, in fact, the craft proves to be what she professes herself--well and good; we can dismiss the affair finally and for ever from our minds and give our undivided attention to other matters. But I confess you have to a certain extent imbued me with your own doubts as to the strict integrity of yonder brig; there are one or two little matters you mentioned which escaped my notice end which certainly have rather a suspicious appearance. I therefore intend--if the craft is bound into the river like ourselves--to make an early opportunity to pay her a visit on some pretext or other." "Have you mentioned the matter to Captain Vernon yet, sir?" I inquired. "No, not yet," was the reply. "I must have something a little more definite to say before I broach the matter to him. But here comes the breeze at last, a _sea_ breeze, too, thank Heaven! Man the braces fore and aft; square away the yards and brail in the mizen. Hard up with your helm, my man, and keep her dead away for the mouth of the river." The faint blue line along the western horizon came creeping gradually down toward us, and presently a catspaw or two ruffled the glassy surface of the water for a moment and disappeared. Then a deliciously cool and refreshing draught of air fanned our faces and swelled out the light upper canvas for an instant, died away, came again a trifle stronger and lasted for perhaps half a minute, then with a flap the canvas collapsed, filled again, the sloop gathered way and paid off with her head to the eastward; a bubble or two floated past her sides, a faint ripple arose under her bows, grew larger, became audible, the glassy surface of the water grew gently ruffled and assumed an exquisite cerulean tint, the wheel began to press against the helmsman's hand, and away we went straight for the mouth of the river--and the brig. The breeze, gentle though it was, reached our neighbour long before we did, and as soon as she felt it she too bore up, squared her yards, and headed direct for Boolambemba Point. She was about three miles ahead of us when the breeze reached her, and I felt very curious to see where she would finally come to an anchor. The only _safe_ anchorage is in Banana Creek, and though slavers constantly resort to the numerous other creeks and inlets higher up the river no captain of a man-of-war would think for a moment of risking his ship in any of them unless the emergency happened to be very pressing, nor even then unless his vessel happened to be of exceedingly light draught. If therefore the brig anchored in Banana Creek I should accept it as a point in favour of her honesty; if not, my suspicions would be stronger than ever. It so happened that she _did_ anchor in Banana Creek, but fully a quarter of a mile higher up it than old Mildmay the master thought it prudent for us to venture, though in obedience to a hint from Mr Austin he took us much further in than where we had anchored on our previous visit. The brig got in fully half an hour before us, her canvas was consequently stowed, her yards squared, ropes hauled taut and coiled down, and her boats in the water when our anchor at length plunged into the muddy opaque-looking water of the creek. We were barely brought up--and indeed the hands were still aloft stowing the canvas--when a gig shoved off from the brig and pulled down the creek. A few minutes later she dashed alongside and Monsieur Le Breton once more presented himself upon our quarter-deck, cap in had, bowing, smiling, and grimacing as only a Frenchman can. His visit, though such a singularly precipitate one, was, it soon turned out, merely a visit of ceremony, which he prolonged to such an extent that Captain Vernon was perforce obliged to invite him down below to breakfast, Mr Austin and I being also the skipper's guests on that particular morning. In the course of the meal he made several very complimentary remarks as to the appearance of the _Daphne_, and finally--when I suppose he saw that he had thus completely won poor Austin's heart--he very politely expressed his extreme desire to take a look through the ship, a desire which the first luff with equal politeness assured him it would give him great pleasure to gratify. The fellow certainly had a wonderfully plausible and winning way with him, there was no denying that, and I saw that under its influence the slight suspicions which I had imparted to poor honest-hearted, straightforward Mr Austin were melting like snowflakes under a summer sun. Still, under all the plausibility, the delicate flattery, and the elaborate politeness of the man, there was a vague indefinable _something_ to which I found it quite impossible to reconcile myself; and I watched him as a cat does a mouse, anxious to note whatever suspicious circumstances might transpire, in order that I might be fully prepared for the talk with the first luff which I felt certain would closely follow upon our visitor's departure. To my chagrin, however, I was on this occasion wholly unable to detect anything whatever out of the common, and Monsieur Le Breton's broken English, upon which I had laid such stress in my former conversation with Mr Austin, was now quite consistent and irreproachable. He was taken through the ship and shown every nook and corner in her, and finally, about noon, took his leave. Just before going down over the side he apologised for the non- appearance of "Captain Dubosc" upon the plea that that gentleman was confined to his hammock with a severe attack of dysentery; but if the officers of the _Daphne_ would honour the _estate's_ ward-room with their presence at dinner that evening Monsieur Le Breton and his brother officers would be "enchanted." And, apparently as an after-thought, when his foot was on the top step of the gangway ladder, this very agreeable gentleman urgently requested the pleasure of Mr Austin's company on a sporting expedition which he and one or two more were about to undertake that afternoon. This latter invitation was declined upon the plea of stress of work; but the invitation to dinner was accepted conditionally upon the work being in a sufficiently forward state to allow of the officers leaving the ship. We were indeed exceedingly busy that day, Mr Austin having determined to take advantage of the opportunity which our being at anchor afforded him to lift the rigging off the mastheads and give it and them a thorough overhaul. As for me, I was engaged during the whole of the day in charge of a boat's crew filling up our water casks and tanks and foraging in the adjacent forest for a supply of fruit, not a single native canoe having approached us during the entire day. It was, consequently, not until late in the afternoon, when the neck of the day's work was broken, that I had an opportunity of exchanging a word or two with the first lieutenant on the subject of our neighbour, the brig, and then it was only a word or two. Mr Austin opened the conversation with: "Well, Hawkesley, what do you think of our friend Monsieur Le Breton, now that you have had an opportunity of bettering your acquaintance with him?" "Well, sir," I replied; "on the whole I am inclined to think that there is just a bare possibility of my having been mistaken in my estimate of him and of the character of the brig. Still--" "Still your mind is not yet quite easy," Mr Austin laughingly interrupted me. "Now, what could you possibly have noticed of a suspicious character in the poor fellow's conduct this morning?" "Nothing," I was obliged to acknowledge. "I am quite prepared to admit, sir, a total absence of those peculiarities of manner which _I am certain_ existed during his first visit to the ship. But did you not think it strange that he should be in such a tremendous hurry to come on board us this morning? At first I was inclined to think his object might be to prevent a visit from some of us to the brig; but that supposition is met, to some extent, by his invitation to us for this evening. The delay may, of course, have afforded them an opportunity to make arrangements for our reception by putting out of sight any--" "Any tell-tale evidences of their dishonesty," laughed the first luff. "Really, Hawkesley, I must say I think you are deceiving yourself and worrying yourself unnecessarily. Of course I can quite understand how, having harboured those extraordinary suspicions of yours for so great a length of time, you now find it difficult to dismiss them all in a moment; but have patience for a few hours more; an excellent opportunity is now offered us for satisfying ourselves as to the brig's _bona fides_, and you may rest assured that I shall make the very best use of it. I find I shall be the only guest of the Frenchmen to-night--the rest of the officers are far too busy to leave the ship, and indeed _I_ can hardly be spared, and would not go but for the fact that it would look uncivil if we in a body declined their invitation; but I will see that to-morrow you have an opportunity of going on board and investigating for yourself. And now I must be off to make myself presentable, or I shall be keeping my hosts waiting, and perhaps spoil their dinner." With that he dived below; and I turned away to attend to some little matter connected with the progress of the work. A quarter of an hour later he reappeared on deck, clean-shaven, and looking very handsome and seamanlike in his best suit of uniform; and, the gig being piped away, he went down over the side, giving me a parting nod as he did so. I watched the boat dash up alongside the brig; noted that the side was manned in due form, that our worthy "first" was received by a group of officers on the quarter-deck, conspicuous among whom I could make out with the aid of my glass Monsieur Le Breton, evidently performing the ceremony of introduction; and then the work being finished, ropes coiled down, and everything once more restored to its proper place, the hands were piped to tea, and I descended to the midshipmen's den, thoroughly tired out with my unwonted exertion. When I again went on deck, about an hour later, the stars were shining brilliantly; the moon, about three days old, was gleaming with a soft subdued radiance through the topmost branches of the trees on the adjacent shore; and the night-mist was already gathering so thickly on the bosom of the river that the brig loomed through it vague, shadowy, and indistinct as a phantom craft. The tide was ebbing, and her stern was turned toward us, but no lights appeared gleaming through her cabin windows, which struck me as being a little strange until I remembered that Monsieur Le Breton had spoken of her captain being ill. A few of our lads were amusing themselves on the forecastle, dancing to the enlivening strains of the cook's fiddle, or singing songs; and an occasional round of applause or an answering song came floating down upon the gentle night-breeze from the brig; but as the fog grew thicker these sounds gradually ceased, we lost sight of her altogether, and so far as sound or sight was concerned we might have been the only craft in the entire river. Our own lads also quieted down; and finally the only sounds which broke the solemn stillness of the night were the sighing of the breeze, the gentle rustle of the foliage, and the loud sonorous _chirr, chirr, chirr_ of the insects. It was about half-past nine o'clock, and I was just thinking of going below to turn-in when I became conscious of the sounds of a commotion of some sort; a muffled cry, which seemed to me like a call for "help;" a dull thud, as of a falling body, and _a splash_! The sounds certainly proceeded from the direction of the brig; and I thought that they must have emanated from a spot at about her distance from the _Daphne_. The slight feeling of drowsiness which had possessed me took flight at once; all my senses became instantly upon the alert; and I awaited in keen expectancy to hear if anything further followed. In vain; the minutes sped past, and neither sight nor sound occurred to elucidate the mystery. I began to feel anxious and alarmed; my old suspicions rose up again like a strong man aroused from sleep; and I walked aft to Mr Armitage, who was leaning against a gun with his arms folded, and his chin sunk upon his breast evidently in deep meditation. He started up as he heard my footstep approaching; and on my asking if he had heard anything peculiar ahead of us, somewhat shortly acknowledged that he had not. I thereupon told him what I had heard; but he evidently attached no importance to my statement, suggesting that _if anything_ it was doubtless some of the Frenchmen amusing themselves. I was by no means satisfied with this, and, my uneasiness increasing every moment, I went forward to ascertain whether any of the hands on the forecastle had heard the mysterious sounds. I found them all listening open-mouthed to some weird and marvellous yarn which one of the topmen was spinning for their edification; and from them also I failed to elicit anything satisfactory. Finally, it suddenly occurred to me that, in my wanderings ashore, I had often noticed how low the night-mists lay upon the surface of the river; and it now struck me that by going aloft I might get sight of something which would tend to explain the disquieting occurrence. To act upon the idea was the work of a moment; I sprang into the main rigging and made my way aloft as rapidly as if my life depended upon it, utterly heedless of the fact that the rigging had been freshly tarred down that day; and in less than a minute had reached the maintopmast crosstrees. As I had anticipated I was here almost clear of the mist; and I eagerly looked ahead to see if all was right in that quarter. The first objects which caught my eye were the mastheads of the brig, broad on our starboard bow instead of directly ahead, as I had expected to find them. This of itself struck me as being somewhat strange; but, what was stranger still, _they seemed to be unaccountably near to us_. I rubbed my eyes and looked at them again. They were just in a line with the tops of a clump of trees which rose like islands out of the silvery mist, and as I looked I saw that the spars were moving, gliding slowly and almost imperceptibly past the trees toward the river. _The brig was adrift_. I listened intently for quite five minutes without hearing the faintest sound from the craft, and during that time she had neared us almost a cable's length. In another minute or two she would be abreast of and within a couple of ships' lengths of us. What could it mean? She could not by any possibility have struck adrift accidentally. And if her berth was being intentionally shifted for any reason, why was the operation carried out under cover of the fog and in such profound silence? There had been no sound of lifting the anchor; nor could I hear anything to indicate that they were running out warps; it looked very much as though they had slipped their cable, and were allowing the tide to carry them silently out to sea. And where was Mr Austin during this stealthy movement? Was he aware of it? Why, if my suspicions were correct, had they invited the officers of the _Daphne_ on board to dinner? Was it merely a blind, a temporary resort to the usual courtesies adopted for the purpose of giving colour to their assumed character of a French man-o'-war, or was it a diabolical scheme to get us all into their power and so deprive a formidable antagonist of its head, so to speak, and thus cripple it? All these surmises and many others equally wild flashed through my bewildered brain as I stood there on the crosstrees watching the stealthy phantom-like movement of the brig's upper spars; and the conclusion to which I finally came was that Captain Vernon ought to be informed forthwith of what was going on. I accordingly descended to the deck and once more sought out the third lieutenant. "Mr Armitage," said I, in a low cautious tone of voice, "the brig is adrift, and driving down past us with the tide in the direction of the river." "The brig adrift!" he repeated incredulously. "Nonsense, Mr Hawkesley, you must be dreaming!" "Indeed I am not, sir, I assure you," I replied earnestly. "I have this moment come from aloft, and I saw her topgallant-masts most distinctly over the top of the mist. She is away over in that direction, and scarcely a cable's length distant from us." "Are you _quite sure_?" he asked, aroused at last by my earnest manner to something like interest. "I can hear no sound of her." "No, sir," I replied; "and that, in conjunction with the sounds which I undoubtedly heard just now makes me think that something must be wrong on board her. Do you not think the matter ought to be reported to Captain Vernon?" "Most certainly it ought," he agreed. "Is it possible that the crew have taken the ship from their officers, think you?" "I scarcely know _what_ to think," I replied. "Let us speak to the captain at once, and hear what he has to say about it." Thereupon the third lieutenant directed Keene, one of the midshipmen, to take temporary charge of the deck; and we at once dived below. "Well, Mr Armitage, what is it?" asked Captain Vernon, as we presented ourselves in the cabin and discovered him and Mr Smellie chatting together over their wine and cigars. "I must apologise for intruding upon you, sir," said Armitage; "but Hawkesley here has come to me with a very extraordinary story which I think you had better hear from his own lips." "Oh! Well, what is it, Mr --. Why, Hawkesley, where in the world have you been, and what doing, man? You are positively smothered in tar." "Yes, sir," I replied, glancing at myself and discovering for the first time by the brilliant light of the cabin lamp the woeful ruin wrought upon my uniform. "I really beg your pardon, sir, for presenting myself in this plight, but the urgent nature of my business must be my excuse." And I forthwith plunged _in medias res_ and told what I had heard and seen. "The noise of a scuffle and the brig adrift!" exclaimed the skipper. "The crew surely cannot have risen upon their officers and taken the ship!" the same idea promptly presenting itself to him as had occurred to the third lieutenant. "No, sir," said I. "I do not believe that is it at all; the commotion was not great enough or prolonged enough for that; _all_ the officers would not be likely to be taken by surprise, but _one man might be_." "One man! What do you mean? I don't understand you," rapped out the skipper. "Well, then, sir, to speak the whole of my mind plainly, I am greatly afraid that Mr Austin has met with foul play on board that brig, and that she is not a French man-o'-war at all, as she professes to be," I exclaimed. I saw Smellie start; and he was about to speak when: "Mr Austin! Foul play! Not a French man-o'-war!!" gasped the skipper. "Why, Good Heavens! the boy is _mad_!" "If I am, sir, I can only say that I have been so for the last four months," I retorted. "For it is fully as long as that, or longer, that I have had my suspicions about that brig and her crew." "What!" exclaimed Smellie. "Have _you_, too, suspected the brig?" "I have, indeed, sir," I replied. "Take a chair, Hawkesley," interrupted the skipper; "pour yourself out a glass of wine, and let us have your story in the fewest possible words. Mr Armitage, do me the favour to ascertain the brig's present whereabouts and let me know. Now, Hawkesley, we are ready to listen to you." As the skipper ceased, Armitage bowed and withdrew, whilst I very hastily sketched the rise and progress of my suspicions, from Monsieur Le Breton's first visit up to that present moment. Before I had proceeded very far, however, Armitage returned with the intelligence that the brig was undoubtedly adrift and already some distance astern of us, and that the topman, who had been aloft to inspect, had reported that he thought he could detect men on her yards. "Turn up the hands at once then, sir, if you please, and see everything ready for slipping our cable and making sail at a moment's notice. But let everything be done in absolute silence; and keep a hand aloft to watch the brig and report anything further he may notice on board her; it really looks as though we were on the brink of some important discovery. Now go ahead with your story, Hawkesley," said the skipper. I proceeded as rapidly as possible, merely stating what suspicious circumstances had come under my own notice, and leaving Captain Vernon to draw his own deductions. When I had finished, the skipper turned to Smellie and said: "Am I to understand, from your remark made a short time ago, that you, too, have suspected this mysterious brig, Mr Smellie?" "Yes," answered Smellie, "I certainly had a vague feeling that there was something queer about her; but my suspicions were not nearly so clear and strong as Hawkesley's, and subsequent events quite drove the matter out of my mind." "Um!" remarked the skipper meditatively; "it is strange, _very_ strange. _I_ never noticed anything peculiar about the craft." "The brig is now about half a mile distant, sir, and is making sail," reported Armitage at that moment, presenting himself again at the cabin door. "Then wait until the hands are out of his rigging; then slip, and we will be after him. I intend to see to the bottom of this," returned the skipper sharply. "There is undoubtedly something wrong or poor Austin would have turned up on board before matters had reached this stage. But, mind, let the work be carried on without an unnecessary sound of any kind." As Armitage again withdrew and Smellie rose to his feet, Captain Vernon turned to me and said: "I am very greatly obliged to you for the zeal and discretion you have manifested in this most delicate matter, Hawkesley; whatever comes of it I shall remember that you have acted throughout to the very best of your ability, not coming to me precipitately with a vague unconnected story, but waiting patiently until you had accumulated a sufficiency of convincing evidence for us to act upon; though, even now we must be very cautious as to what we do. And let me also add that Mr Smellie has spoken to me in the highest terms of your conduct throughout that trying time when you and he were ashore together; indeed he assures me that to you, under God, he is indebted for the actual preservation of his life. I have watched you carefully from the moment of your first coming on board, and I have been highly gratified with your conduct throughout. Go on as you have begun, young sir, and you will prove an ornament to the service. And now, gentlemen, to business." CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. POOR AUSTIN'S FATE. I hurried on deck, highly gratified at the very handsome compliment paid me by the skipper, and found that the hands were aloft, casting loose the canvas. Presently, without a word having been spoken above a whisper, or a shout uttered, they came down again; the topsail halliards were manned, the yards mast-headed, the jib run up, the cable slipped, and we were under weigh; the fog all the time being as thick as a hedge, so thick indeed that it was impossible to see the jib-boom end from the quarter-deck. Old Mildmay, the master, was conning the ship; but of course in such a fog it was all guess-work, and the old fellow was terribly nervous and anxious, as indeed was also Captain Vernon. It struck me that the ship might be better conned from aloft, and I stepped up to the skipper and with due modesty mentioned my idea. "A very happy thought," exclaimed the master, who happened to overhear me. "I'll just step up as far as the crosstrees myself." "Very good, Mr Mildmay; do so by all means," said Captain Vernon. "But the wind is light, and what little of it there is will carry the sound of your voice down to the brig if you hail the deck, and so apprise them of our approach. We must avoid that if possible; I want to get alongside the craft and take her by surprise, and we may have some trouble in accomplishing that if they suspect that we are after them. The _Daphne_ is a fast ship, but so also is the brig, and I am by no means certain that she has not the heels of us. We must devise a little code of signals from you to the deck, so as to obviate any necessity for hailing. Can anyone suggest anything?" A very simple plan had occurred to me whilst the skipper was speaking, and as no one else seemed to have a suggestion to make, I offered mine. "If the pennant halliards were cast adrift down here on deck, sir, and held by one of us," I said, "Mr Mildmay could get hold of them aloft, and one tug upon them might mean `port,' two tugs `starboard,' and three `steady.'" "Excellent!" exclaimed the skipper, "and perfectly simple; we will adopt it forthwith, and you shall attend to the deck-end of the halliards, Mr Hawkesley, with Mr Keene and Mr Peters to pass the word from you along the deck to the helmsman. Place us in a good weatherly position, Mr Mildmay, if you please, so that when we run clear of the fog the brig may have no chance to dodge us." "Ay ay, sir, never fear for me," answered Old Mildmay as he swung nimbly into the main rigging, and in a few seconds his body disappeared in the mist. The old fellow soon put us in the right course, and away we went, crowding sail after the invisible brig. An anxious half-hour followed, and then we ran out of the fog and found ourselves creeping along parallel with the land to the northward of the river-mouth, with the brig about half a mile ahead of us under every stitch of canvas she could show to the freshening land-breeze. We had gained on her considerably, the master having kept a keen eye upon her gleaming upper canvas whilst piloting us out of the river and steering in such a direction as to very nearly cut her off altogether. He of course came down on deck as soon as we had cleared the fog, and Captain Vernon at once ordered the crew to quarters. The men were not long in getting to their stations, and when all was ready a gun was fired after the flying brig, as a polite request for her to heave-to, and the ensign hoisted to the peak. I was naturally very anxious to see what notice would be taken of this, since the somewhat high-handed course we were taking with the craft had been adopted entirely upon the strength of my representations; and if the brig should, after all, turn out to be the _Vestale_ French gun-brig as she had pretended to be, our skipper might perhaps involve himself in a considerable amount of trouble. It was therefore with a sigh of real and genuine relief that I heard a shot come whistling close past us from the brig in reply to our own. Captain Vernon, too, was evidently much relieved, for he ejaculated in tones of great satisfaction: "Good! she has fired a shotted gun at us and refuses to show her colours. _Now_ my course is perfectly clear. Try the effect of another gun on her, Mr Armitage, and aim at her spars; she is skimming along there like a witch, and if we are not careful will give us the slip yet." Armitage, who was in charge of the battery forward, upon this began peppering away at her in earnest; but though the shot made daylight through her canvas every time, no damage was done either to her spars or rigging, and it began to be only too evident that she was gradually creeping away from us. To make matters worse, too, her crew were just as smart with their guns as we were with ours, in fact a trifle more so, for before a quarter of an hour had passed several of our ropes, fortunately unimportant ones, had been cut; and at length a thud and a crack aloft turned all eyes in that direction, to see the fore royal- mast topple over to leeward. Captain Vernon stamped upon the deck in the height of his vexation. "Away aloft, there, and clear the wreck," he exclaimed, "and, for Heaven's sake, Mr Armitage, see if you cannot cripple the fellow. Ten minutes more and he will be out of range; then `good-bye' to him. I wish to goodness our people at home would condescend to take a lesson in shipbuilding from the men who turn out these slavers; we should then have a chance of making a capture occasionally." Whilst the skipper had been thus giving vent to his rapidly-increasing chagrin, Smellie had walked forward; and presently I caught sight of him stooping down and squinting along the sights of the gun which had just been re-loaded and run out. A few seconds of anxious suspense followed, and then came a flash and a sharp report, followed the next moment by a ringing cheer from the men on the forecastle. The brig's fore-yard had been shot away in the slings. The craft at once shot up into the wind and lay apparently at our mercy. "Ram us alongside him, Mildmay," exclaimed the skipper in an ecstasy of delight. "Stand by with the grappling-irons fore and aft. Mr Smellie, stand by to lead a party on board him forward; I will attend to matters aft here." It really looked for a moment as though we actually had the brig; but a chill of disappointment thrilled through me when I saw how splendidly she was handled. The man who commanded her was evidently equal to any emergency, for no sooner did the craft begin to luff into the wind than he let fly his after braces, shivered his main topsail, and hauled his head sheets over to windward, and--after a pause which must have sent the hearts of all on board into their mouths--the brig began to pay off again, until, by a deft and dainty manipulation of her canvas, she was actually got dead before the wind, when the main yard was squared and away she went once more but little the worse for her serious mishap. If her skipper, however, was a thorough seaman, so too was old Mildmay. That experienced veteran soon saw how matters were tending, and though he was unable to "ram" us alongside in accordance with Captain Vernon's energetically expressed desire, he placed the _Daphne_ square in the wake and to windward of the brig, and within half a cable's length of her, thus, to some extent, taking the wind out of her sails, the effect of which was that we immediately began to gain upon her. The crew of the brig now worked at their stern-chasers with redoubled energy, and our running-gear soon began to suffer. But though we might to some extent have avoided this by sheering away on to one or other of the brig's quarters, the position we then held was so commanding that the skipper resolved to maintain it. "We must grin and bear it," said he, "it will not be for long; another five minutes will place us alongside. Edge down a trifle toward his port quarter, Mildmay, as though we intended to board him on that side, then, at the last moment, sheer sharply across his stern and range up on his starboard side, it _may_ possibly save us a broadside as we board. Mr Smellie, kindly load both batteries with round and grape, if you please; we will deliver our broadside and board in the smoke." Within the specified five minutes we ranged up alongside the brig, delivered our broadside, receiving hers in return, her hands proving too smart to let us escape that; our grappling-irons were securely hooked into her rigging, and away we went on board her fore and aft, being perhaps a second ahead of the brig's crew, who actually had the hardihood to attempt to board _us_. We were stoutly met by as motley, and, at the same time, as ruffianly a set of men as it has ever been my lot to encounter; and a most desperate struggle forthwith ensued. Captain Vernon of course took care to be first on board; but I stuck close to his coat-tails, and almost the first individual we encountered was no less a personage than our old acquaintance Monsieur Le Breton himself. He pressed fiercely forward and at once crossed swords with the skipper, who exchanged two or three passes with him; but the two were soon separated by the surging crowd of combatants, and then I found myself face to face with him. I was by no means a skilled swordsman, and to tell the truth felt somewhat nervous for a moment as his blade jarred and rasped upon mine. By great good fortune, however, I succeeded in parrying his first thrust, and the next instant--how it happened I could not possibly say--he reeled backwards with my sword- blade right through his body. Leaving him dying, as I thought, on deck, I immediately pressed forward after the skipper, and for a few minutes was kept pretty busy, first with one antagonist and then another. Finally, after a fiercely maintained struggle of some twelve minutes or so, the brig's crew began to give way before our own lads, until, finding themselves hemmed in on all sides, they flung down their arms and begged for quarter, which was of course given them. Upon this, seeing that the skipper and Smellie were both safe, I turned to go below, thinking that I should perhaps discover poor Austin in durance vile in one of the state-rooms. I descended the cabin staircase, and was about to pass into the saloon when I happened to catch sight, out of the corner of my eye, of some dark object moving in an obscure corner under the staircase. Turning to take a more direct look at it I to my great surprise discovered it to be Monsieur Le Breton, who, instead of being dead as I had quite imagined he must be, was alive, and, seemingly, not very much the worse for his wound. He carried a pistol in his hand, and was in the very act of lowering himself down through a trap in the flooring when I grasped him by the collar and invited him to explain his intentions. He quietly allowed me to drag him out of the opening, rose to his feet, and then suddenly closed with me, aiming fierce blows at my uncovered head--I had lost my hat somehow in the struggle on deck--with the heavy brass-mounted butt of his pistol. In such an encounter as this I did not feel very much afraid of him, being tall for my age, and having developed a fair share of muscular strength since leaving England; but it was as much as I could do to hold him and at the same time prevent his inflicting some serious injury upon me. His wound, however, told upon him at last, and I eventually succeeded in dragging him back to the deck, though not until after he had ineffectually emptied his pistol at me. On regaining the deck I found our lads busy securing the prisoners, and Monsieur Le Breton was soon made as safe as the rest of them. He was loudly protesting against the indignity of being bound, when Captain Vernon approached. "Oh! here you are, Hawkesley!" he exclaimed. "I was looking for you, and began to fear that you had met with a mishap. Do me the favour to step below and see if you can discover anything of Mr Austin." "I have already once been below with that object, sir," I replied; "but, discovering this man--Le Breton as he calls himself--acting in a very suspicious manner, I deemed it my duty to see him safe on deck before proceeding further in my quest." "What was he doing?" asked the skipper sharply. "I vill tell you, sare, vat I was doing," interrupted Le Breton recklessly. "I vas on my vay to ze _soute aux poudres_ to blow you and all ze people to ze devil to keep company wiz your inqueezatif first leftenant. And I would have done eet, too, but for zat pestilent midshipman, who have ze gripe of ze devil himself. _Peste_! you Eengleesh, you are like ze bouledogue, ven you take hold you not nevare let go again." "There, Hawkesley, what do you think of that for a compliment?" laughed the skipper. "So, monsieur," he resumed, "you were about to blow us up, eh? Very kind of you, I'm sure. Perhaps you will increase our obligation to you by informing me what you have done with Mr Austin?" "Done wiz him!" reiterated Le Breton with a diabolical sneer. "Why, I have sent him to ze bottom of ze creek, where I would have sent you all if you had not been too cautious to accept my polite invitation." "Do I understand you to mean that you have _murdered_ him?" thundered the skipper. "Yes," was the reckless answer; "drowned him or murdered him, call it what you will." "You treacherous scoundrel!" ejaculated the skipper hoarsely; "you shall be made to bitterly account for this unprovoked outrage; clap him in irons," turning to the master-at-arms, who happened to be close at hand. "Poor Austin!" he continued. "Your suspicions, Hawkesley, have proved only too correct; the craft is, unquestionably, a slaver--or worse. We must have her thoroughly overhauled; possibly some documents of great value to us may be found stowed away somewhere or other. I'll see to it at once." And he forthwith dived below. The prisoners having been secured, the dead and wounded were next attended to, the former being lashed up in their hammocks ready for burial, whilst the latter were carefully conveyed below to receive such attention as the surgeon and his assistant could bestow. The brig's loss was very severe, sixteen of her men having been killed and twenty- two wounded--principally by our final broadside--out of a total of sixty hands. Our own loss was light, considering the determination with which the enemy had fought, amounting to only eleven wounded. As soon as a sufficiency of hands could be spared for the purpose, the brig's square canvas was furled, a prize crew was told off to take charge of her, and the two craft then made sail in company--the brig under her fore-and-aft canvas only--for the anchorage under Padron Point, where we brought up about a couple of hours later. Captain Vernon then returned to the _Daphne_ in the brig's gig, bringing with him a bundle of papers, and leaving Smellie in charge of the prize; an anchor-watch was set, and all hands then turned in, pretty well tired but highly elated at the result of our evening's work. At daybreak next morning both vessels weighed and returned to their former berths in Banana Creek, the _Daphne_ picking up the cable which she had slipped on the previous night. The dead were then buried on the little island which lies on the east side of the creek; after which the carpenter and boatswain with their mates were set to work upon the necessary repairs to the brig. This craft now proved to be English built, having been turned out of a Shoreham shipyard, and originally registered under the name of the _Virginia_; but how she had come to get into the hands of the individuals from whom we took her there was nothing to show. She was completely fitted for carrying on the business of a slaver; but from the nature of the goods discovered in her after hold--which was quite separate from her main hold--there could be no doubt that she had also done a little piracy whenever a convenient opportunity had presented itself. I was sent away directly after breakfast that morning in charge of a couple of boats with orders to drag the creek for poor Mr Austin's body, and in little more than an hour we fortunately found it quite uninjured. The poor fellow had evidently been taken completely by surprise, a gag being in his mouth, and his hands manacled behind him, with a stout canvas bag containing two 18-pound shot lashed to his feet. We took the body on board the _Daphne_, and it was at once conveyed below to his own cabin, pending the construction of a coffin, the ensign being at the same time hoisted half up to the peak. This melancholy duty performed I was again sent away to drag for the anchor and cable slipped by the _Virginia_ on the previous evening, and these also I found, weighed, and conveyed on board the prize, where, under Smellie's able supervision, the work of repairing and refitting was going on apace. About noon that same day a strange brig entered the river with the French flag flying at her peak, and brought up in the creek about a cable's length astern of us. We were at once struck with the marked resemblance which the stranger bore to the _Virginia_--though it was by no means so striking as the similarity between our prize and the _Black Venus_--and we forthwith came to the conclusion that we now at last beheld the veritable _Vestale_--the real Simon Pure--before us. And so, upon Armitage boarding her, she proved to be; her captain, upon hearing of the extraordinary personation of his craft so successfully played off upon us by the _Virginia_, actually producing his commission to prove his _bona fides_. During the course of this somewhat eventful day, also, one of our lads learned from one of the prisoners that on the occasion of our second encounter with the _Virginia_--when she so cleverly pretended to be in pursuit of the _Black Venus_--she was actually making the best of her way to Havana with the three hundred slaves on board which she had accused her sister-ship of carrying off, and that her elaborate signalling on that occasion was merely resorted to for the purpose of hoodwinking us. At four o'clock that afternoon, Mr Austin's body having been deposited in the coffin which had been prepared for it, the hands were mustered on deck in their clean clothes, the boats were hoisted out, and the body was deposited in the launch, with the union-jack spread over the coffin as a pall, and the ensign hoisted half-mast high on the staff in the boat's stern. Just as the procession was on the point of shoving off from the ship's side, the officers of the _Vestale_, who had incidentally learned the particulars of Austin's murder, approached in their two gigs, with the French flag floating at half-mast from the ensign-staves in the sterns of their boats, and took up a position in the rear. We then shoved off; the first and second cutters taking the launch in tow, and proceeding up the creek in charge of old Mildmay, the master, the captain and officers following in the two gigs. As soon as we were clear of the ship's side the _Daphne_ began firing minute-guns, to which the _Vestale_, hoisting her ensign half up to the peak, replied; and so we moved slowly up the creek, the minute-guns continuing as long as the boats remained within sight of the ship. We proceeded for a distance of about two miles, which brought us to a lovely spot selected by the skipper, who had himself sought it out during the morning, and there we landed. The body was then passed out of the launch and shouldered by six petty officers; Smellie and I supporting the pall on one side, whilst Armitage and old Mildmay performed a like duty on the other; the skipper leading the way to the grave and reading the burial service as he went, whilst the remaining officers and men, followed by the contingent from the _Vestale_, formed in the rear of the coffin. Arrived at the grave, the coffin was placed on the ground, the ropes for lowering it to the bottom were adjusted, and finally it was gently and reverently deposited in its last resting-place, the skipper meanwhile reading impressively those solemn sentences beginning with "Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live," etcetera. A slight pause was made at the conclusion of these passages, and Smellie, deeply affected, stepped forward and threw the first earth upon the body of his dear friend and brother officer, after which the service again proceeded and soon came to an end. The firing party of marines next formed on each side of the grave and rendered the last honours to the dead; the grave was filled in, a wooden cross being temporarily planted at its head, and we turned sorrowfully away, entered the boats, and with the ensigns now hoisted to the staff-heads, returned to the ship realising _fully_, perhaps for the first time, the fact that we had lost for ever a genial, brave, devoted, and sympathetic friend. "In the midst of life we are in death." Never did I so thoroughly realise the absolute literal truth of this as whilst sitting in the gig, silently struggling with my feelings, on our return from poor Austin's funeral. We had just laid him in his lonely grave on a foreign shore, far away from all that he held dearest and best on earth, in a spot consecrated only by the solemn service which had just been performed over it, a spot which could never be watered by a mother's or a sister's tears, where his last resting-place would be at the mercy of the stranger and the savage, and where in the course of a very few years it would only too probably be obliterated beyond all possibility of recognition. Yet twenty-four short hours ago he was alive and well, rejoicing in the strength of his lusty manhood, and with, apparently, the promise of many years of life before him, never suspecting, as he went down over the ship's side, with a cheery smile and a reassuring nod to me, that he was going thus gaily to meet treachery and death. Poor Austin! I struggled successfully with my feelings whilst the eyes of others were upon me, but I am not ashamed to admit that I wept long and bitterly that night when I reflected in privacy upon his untimely and cruel fate. Nor am I ashamed to acknowledge that I then also prayed, more earnestly perhaps than I had ever prayed before, that I might be taught so to number my days that I might incline mine heart unto that truest of all wisdom, the wisdom which teaches us how to live in such a way that death may never find us unprepared. On passing the _Virginia_ it was seen that her new fore-yard was slung and rigged, the sail bent, and the other repairs completed, so that she was once more ready for sea. Smellie shortly afterwards shifted his traps over into her, returning to the _Daphne_ to dine with Captain Vernon and to receive his final instructions. These given, Mr Armitage and I were summoned to the cabin; and upon our arrival there, the skipper, after speaking regretfully upon the loss which the ship and all hands, himself especially, as he said, had sustained through the first lieutenant's death, informed us that Mr Smellie having received charge of the prize to deliver over to the admiral of the station with an earnest recommendation that she should be turned over to the navy and given to Smellie with the rank of commander, it now became necessary to appoint an acting first lieutenant to the _Daphne_. A few words of commendation to Armitage then followed, and he was presented with an acting order. The skipper then turned to me. "It next becomes necessary to appoint an acting second lieutenant," said he, "and after giving the subject my most serious attention, I have determined, Hawkesley, to appoint _you_. Nay, no thanks, young gentleman; you will discover before many hours have passed over your head that you have very little to be thankful for. You will exchange your present easy and irresponsible position for one of very grave and unceasing responsibility; the safety of the ship and of all hands will daily, during your watch, be confided to your care, and many other onerous duties will devolve upon you, every one of which will demand your most unceasing attention and your utmost skill in their proper discharge. Henceforward you will have time to think of nothing but _duty_, duty must wholly engage your thoughts by day, ay, and your very dreams by night; it is no post of mere empty honour which I am about to confer upon you. But, as I once before remarked to you, I have had my eye upon you ever since you came on board the ship, and, young as you are, and short as has been your term of probation, I have sufficient confidence in you to believe that you will do credit to my judgment. I presume, of course, that it is unnecessary to point out to you that this appointment can be only _temporary_; the _Virginia_ will doubtless bring back with her from Sierra Leone officers of the admiral's appointment to fill the posts of second and third lieutenant; but if, as I have no doubt, you discharge your temporary duties with anything like the ability I anticipate, your promotion, upon the completion of your time, will be sure and rapid." So saying, the skipper extended his hand to me and gave mine a hearty shake, Smellie and Armitage following his example and offering me their congratulations. It being, by this time, rather late, Smellie shortly afterwards rose, and bidding adieu at the gangway to his old shipmates, repaired on board his new command, which was under orders to sail next morning at daybreak. As for me, I went off to the midshipmen's berth, which, through Keene, Woods, and Williams, the master's mate, being drafted on board the _Virginia_, was now almost empty, and shifted my few traps forthwith into the cabin recently vacated by Smellie, scarcely knowing meanwhile whether I was standing upon my head or my heels. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. THE CUTTERS BESET. On the following morning Captain Dubosc and Lieutenant Le Breton (we now discovered that the _Virginia's_ people had assumed the names of the officers of the _Vestale_ in addition to appropriating the name of the ship) came on board the _Daphne_ to breakfast; Armitage and old Mildmay being invited to meet them. The meal appeared to be a protracted one, for it was served punctually at eight o'clock and the participants did not appear on deck until half- past ten. The secret, however, soon came out, for when they did at length put in an appearance it became perfectly evident, from sundry disjointed remarks which passed between them, that something of importance was on the _tapis_. The Frenchmen's gig was awaiting them, and they soon passed down over the side, Captain Dubosc's last words being: "Well, then, _mon ami_, it is all settled, and our contingent shall be ready for a start punctually at two o'clock _Au revoir_." I was not left long in ignorance of the precise nature of the arrangement which had just been concluded, for as soon as the French gig was fairly away from our vessel's side, Captain Vernon beckoned me to him and said: "Just step down below with me, Hawkesley; I want to have a talk with you." I followed him down into his cabin, whereupon he directed me to be seated, drew a chair up to the table for himself, and laying his hand upon a bundle of papers, said: "These are some of the papers which I discovered the night before last on board the _Virginia_; and as I anticipated would be the case, they contain several items of exceedingly important information. One of these items has reference to the existence, on an island some forty miles up the river, of an immense slave depot, as also of a slave hulk, in both of which, if the information here given happens to be reliable, a large number of slaves are at this moment awaiting embarkation. The papers seem also to imply that there is a very snug anchorage close to this island, with a navigable channel leading right up to it. "Now I am exceedingly anxious, for many reasons, to test the truth of this information, and I have therefore arranged with Captain Dubosc to send a joint expedition up the river to survey the alleged channel, to destroy the depot and the hulk, if such are found to exist, and to free any slaves which may happen to be therein. "From certain remarks to be found here and there in these documents, I infer that the depot and hulk are in charge of white men, but it is, unfortunately, nowhere stated how many these white men number. They cannot, however, muster very strongly there; they probably do not number above a dozen altogether; the expedition, therefore, will only be a small one, consisting only of our own cutter and that of the _Vestale_. I have determined to give the command of our people to Mr Mildmay, he being the most experienced officer at surveying now remaining to us, with you to lend a hand. The French boat will be under the command of Monsieur Saint Croix, the second lieutenant of the _Vestale_; and both boats, though of course under independent commands, will act in concert. This paper," placing one before me, "is, as you will perceive, a sketch-chart of the river, and the two crosses in red ink indicate the positions of the depot and the hulk. It differs somewhat, you will notice, from the admiralty chart," to which he pointed as he spoke, "and it will really be a great point to ascertain which, if either, of the two is correct. To an individual unacquainted with the river, the channel there on the larboard hand going up would naturally suggest itself as the preferable one, being so much wider than the other, but the soundings marked on this sketch go to show that the water is much deeper in the _south_ channel. This is one of the points I want cleared up. And another is the bearings and compass courses along the deepest water in each reach of the channel. I have already explained all this to Mildmay of course; but I thought I would also explain it to you, because, knowing exactly what I want, you will be able to render more intelligent assistance than would be possible were you working in the dark. There is only one thing more. You are a tolerably good hand with your pencil, I know; do you think you could make an exact copy of this sketch-chart to take with you, so as to leave the original behind with me?" I assured the skipper that I both could and would, whereupon he furnished me with the necessary materials and left me in solitude to perform my task, going on deck himself to superintend the preparations for our trip. The sketch-chart found among the papers on board the _Virginia_ was only a small affair, drawn upon a sheet of foolscap paper; but it was so carefully executed that I felt sure it must be the work of an experienced hand, and consequently, in all probability, perfectly accurate. My copy, therefore, to be of any value at all, would have to be, not a free-hand happy-go-lucky sketch, but an absolute _facsimile_. There was a great deal of work in it, and not much time wherein to do it; so, after a little thought, I hit upon the plan of fastening the outspread original with wafers to the glass of one of the stern windows, and watering a thin sheet of paper over it. The strong daylight reflected up from the surface of the water through the glass rendered the two sheets of paper sufficiently transparent to enable me to see every line and mark of the original with tolerable clearness through the sheet upon which I proposed to make my copy; and with the aid of a fine- pointed pencil I soon had it complete, going over it afterwards with pen and ink to make it indelible. Mildmay and I lunched with the skipper that day, and during the course of the meal we received our final instructions, which were, however, little more than a recapitulation of those given me in the morning. The meal over, the cutter's crew were paraded, fully armed, in the waist of the ship; their ammunition was served out to them, and they were ordered down into the boat, which lay alongside with a 12-pounder carronade in her bows, together with the necessary powder and shot for the same, spare ammunition for the men's muskets, four days' provisions and water, and, in fact, every necessary for the successful carrying out of the undertaking upon which we were bound. The skipper then shook hands with Mildmay and me, wishing us prosperity and success; we went down over the side into the boat, and the little expedition started. Three minutes later we were joined by Monsieur Saint Croix in the _Vestale's_ cutter, when the canvas was set in both boats, the wind, though dead in our teeth for the passage up the river, being free enough to carry us as far as Boolambemba Point. For the remainder of that day and up to about 4 p.m. on the day following, the expedition progressed without incident of any kind worth mentioning. Our progress was steady but slow, Mildmay's whole energies being devoted to the making of a thoroughly satisfactory and trustworthy survey of the river channel up which we were passing; and in the accomplishment of this duty I was pleased to find that the studies I had been diligently pursuing under Mr Smellie's auspices enabled me to render him substantial assistance. Saint Croix, who kept about a quarter of a mile in our wake, was making a perfectly independent survey, which he compared with ours at the conclusion of each day's work. The first incident of note, though we attached no importance whatever to it at the moment, occurred about four o'clock in the afternoon on the day following our departure from Banana Creek, and it consisted merely in the fact that a large native canoe passed us upward bound, without its occupants bestowing upon us any notice whatever. We had previously encountered several canoes--small craft carrying from two to half-a-dozen natives--and the occupants of these, who seemed to be engaged for the most part in fishing, had invariably greeted us with vociferous ejaculations, which, from the hearty laughter immediately following them, were doubtless choice examples of Congoese wit. But the particular canoe now in question swept past us without a sound. She was a large, well-shaped craft, propelled by twenty-four paddles, and she dashed ahead of us as if we had been at anchor, her occupants--and especially four individuals who sat in the stern-sheets, or at all events where the stern-sheets ought to be, and who, from their display of feathers, bead necklaces, and leopard-skin robes, must have been very bigwigs indeed--looking straight ahead of them and vouchsafing not the faintest indication that they were conscious of our presence. This absurd assumption of dignity greatly tickled us at the moment, we attributing it entirely to the existence in the native mind of a profound conviction of their own immeasurable superiority; but subsequent events tended to give another and a more sinister aspect to the incident. We pressed diligently on with our work until six o'clock, at which time we found ourselves abreast a small native village. Here Mildmay proposed to effect a landing, both for the purpose of procuring some fruit and also to satisfy his very natural curiosity to see what a native village was like. But on pulling in toward the bank the natives assembled, making such unmistakable warlike demonstrations that we deemed it advisable to abandon our purpose. We could, of course, have easily dispersed the hostile blacks had we been so disposed; and Saint Croix, who was a particularly high-spirited, fiery-tempered young fellow, strongly advocated our doing so. But Captain Vernon's orders to us to avoid all collision with the natives had been most stringent, and old Mildmay was far too experienced and seasoned a hand to engage in an affray for the mere "fun" of the thing. He therefore sturdily refused to aid or abet Saint Croix in any such unrighteous undertaking; and we passed the night instead upon a small islet whereon there was nothing more formidable than a few water-fowl and a flock of green parrots to dispute our landing. We had not been at work above an hour or so on the following morning before we had reason to suspect that some at least of the unusual number of canoes around us were suspiciously watching our movements, if not actually following us up the river. This, however, for the time being caused us little or no uneasiness, as we felt assured that, should their attentions become inconveniently obtrusive, a bullet or two, or failing that, a round-shot from our carronade, fired over their heads, would promptly send them to the right-about. Later on in the day, however, I must confess that I for one began to experience a slight qualm of anxiety as I noticed the steadily increasing number of canoes, _some_ of them carrying as many as ten or a dozen men, in our vicinity. They were all ostensibly engaged in fishing, it is true; but that this was only a pretence, or that they were meeting with unusually bad luck, was evident from the small number of fish captured. Still, up to noon, though the behaviour of the natives had been steadily growing more suspicious and unsatisfactory, no actual hostile demonstration had been made; and we landed upon a small bare, sandy islet to cook and despatch our dinner. During all this time we had, of course, been carefully checking the chart of the river copied by me from the one found on board the _Virginia_, and comparing it with our own survey; the general result being to prove that it was very fairly accurate, quite sufficiently so at least to serve as a safe guide to any vessel of light draught, say up to ten feet or so, making for the island on which was the alleged slave depot. This chart told us that we had now arrived within a distance of some six miles of the island in question, a statement verified to some extent by the fact that on an island situate at about that distance from us we could make out, with the aid of our glasses, an object which might very well pass for a large building of some kind. The river channel between us and this island was entirely free of visible obstructions, and we therefore hoped that, by a little extra exertion, we might succeed in completing our survey right up to the island, and gaining possession of it and the hulk--thus achieving the full object of the expedition--before nightfall. By the time that we were ready to make a start once more, however, the canoes had mustered in such numbers that even old Mildmay, who had hitherto poo-poohed my suggestions as to the possibility of a contemplated attack, began to look serious, and at last actually went the length of acknowledging that perhaps there might be mischief brewing after all. Saint Croix, however, treated the matter lightly, roundly asserting that the extraordinary gathering was due to nothing more serious than the native curiosity to behold the unwonted sight of a white man, and to watch our mysterious operations. There was undoubtedly a certain degree of probability about this suggestion, and most unfortunately we gave to it a larger share of credence than the event justified, shoving off from our sand-bank and resuming our surveying operations without first adopting those precautionary measures which prudence obviously dictated. At two o'clock p.m., by which time we had passed over about three of the six miles which lay between the sand-bank and our supposed goal, the French boat being at the time about half a mile astern of us, a loud shouting arose from one of the largest canoes in the flotilla, her paddles were suddenly elevated in the air, and the whole fleet with one accord rapidly closed in between us and the Frenchmen, completely cutting us off the one from the other. "Hillo!" exclaimed Mildmay, "what's the meaning of this? Just clap a round-shot into the carronade there, you Tom, and pitch it well over the heads of those black rascals. Pull port, back starboard, and slue the boat round with her nose toward them. That's your sort! Now, Tom, are you ready there, for'ard? Then well elevate the muzzle and stand by to fire when I give the word. Hold water, starboard oars, and port oars pull a stroke; we're pointing straight for the Frenchmen just now. Well of all; now we're clear, and no chance of hitting our friends. Fire!" The carronade rang out its report from the bows of the boat, and the shot went screaming away far over the heads of those in the canoes, the Frenchmen firing in like manner at almost the same moment. A yell of dismay immediately arose from the canoes, and half a dozen of those nearest us dashed their paddles into the water and began paddling precipitately away. Their panic, however, was only momentary; they appeared to have seen and heard artillery before, and as soon as they saw that no damage had been done they arrested their flight, and a contingent of canoes, numbering quite a hundred, began cautiously to advance toward us, spreading out on our right and left in a manner which showed that they meditated an attempt to surround us. "Give 'em another pill, Tom, and slap it right into the thick of 'em this time; we mustn't let 'em surround us at no price," exclaimed old Mildmay. "Turn round on your thwarts, lads, and pull the boat gently up stream, starn first, so's to keep our bull-dog forward there facing 'em. Now, as soon as you're ready there with the gun let 'em have it." Once again the carronade spoke out, and this time its voice conveyed a death- message to some of the belligerent blacks, the shot striking one of the canoes fair in the stem, knocking her into match-wood, and killing or maiming several of her occupants. We naturally expected that this severe lesson would have the effect of sending our troublesome neighbours to the right-about _en masse_, but to our surprise and discomfiture this was by no means the case; on the contrary, it appeared to have thoroughly aroused their most savage instincts, and with a loud shout they dashed their paddles into the water and advanced menacingly toward us. "Load your muskets, lads!" exclaimed Mildmay, as, with eyes gleaming and nostrils dilated, the old war-horse snuffed the approaching battle; "load your muskets, and then take to your oars again and back her steadily up stream. Sharp's the word and quick's the action; if those rascals `outflank' us--as the sodgers call it--we may say `good-bye' to old England. Mr Hawkesley, d'ye think you can pitch a bullet into that long chap that's creeping up there on our larboard beam? I'm about to try my hand and see if I can't stop the gallop of this fellow who's in such a tremendous hurry away here to the nor'ard of us. Take good aim, now; we haven't a single bullet that we can afford to throw away. Ah! that's _well_ done," as I bowled over the individual who was handling the steering paddle in the canoe indicated to me. "Now let's see what an old man can do." He raised his piece to his shoulder, took a long steady aim, and fired. A white spot instantly appeared on the side of the canoe; and one of its occupants sprang convulsively to his feet and fell headlong into the river, nearly capsizing the frail craft as he did so. This certainly checked the impetuosity of the two particular canoes, the occupants of which had suffered from our fire; but the others only pressed forward with increased eagerness. "Hang it!" exclaimed the master pettishly, "I don't _want_ to do it, but I shall have to give 'em a dose of grape yet. Why won't the stupid donkeys take a hint? And why, in the name of fortune, should they want to interfere with us at all? Try 'em with grape this time, Tom; let's see what they think of `the fruit of the vine.'" Meanwhile the French boat had also become actively engaged, the report of her carronade ringing out much more frequently than our own, whilst rattling volleys of musketry breezed up from her at brief intervals; but from the steadily decreasing sharpness of the reports it soon became evident, somewhat, I must confess, to our dismay, that she was _retiring_. It might, of course, be merely a strategic movement on Saint Croix's part; but if, on the other hand, he happened to be situated like ourselves, with all his work cut out to defend himself, and a way open to him _down_ stream only, as we had a clear road before us _up_ stream only, then indeed matters were beginning to look extremely serious for us. So far as he was concerned, if he could only avoid being surrounded he was comparatively safe; the way would be open for his retreat, and a fine breeze happening to be blowing down the river, he could, with the aid of his sails easily outpace the canoes. But with us the matter was very different; our retreat was cut off, and unless we could beat off the canoes the only course open to us seemed to be that of taking to dry land, intrenching ourselves as best we might, and patiently waiting until assistance should arrive. Meanwhile, in accordance with Mildmay's instructions, our carronade had been loaded with grape, and Tom, taking steady aim, applied the match to his piece. A flash, a roar, a volume of smoke, and away went the grape lashing up the surface of the water fair in line with a thick cluster of canoes, through which the iron shower next moment tore with disastrous effect. One canoe was literally rent to pieces, every one of its occupants, so far as we could see, being killed; two other canoes, one on each side of the first, were so seriously damaged that they immediately swamped, leaving their occupants squattering in the water like so many lame ducks; and three or four others were hit, with serious casualties to their crews. This effectually checked the advance of the blacks for a few minutes, during which we made good use of our oars in urging the boat, still stern foremost, in the direction of the island to which we were bound, and upon which we were now able to distinctly make out the shape of a huge wooden barrack-like structure. As we pressed on toward the island we became cognisant of the fact that its occupants were in a great state of confusion, and a few minutes later we saw a long procession of blacks, who, from their constrained movements, were apparently manacled, emerge from the barrack and move off toward the opposite side of the island. We were enabled, with the aid of our glasses, to detect on the island the presence of some ten or a dozen white men, and these individuals, carrying each a musket in one hand and a whip in the other, seemed to be very freely using the latter to expedite the movements of the unhappy blacks. We were, however, allowed but scanty time in which to take note of these matters, for the native canoes soon began to press forward upon us once more, evidently with the fixed determination to surround us if possible, and thus prevent our approach to the island. We knew that if this object were once accomplished our doom was certain, for in such a case, fight as desperately as we might, we must soon be overpowered by sheer force of numbers, and it consequently soon became, so far as we were concerned, an absolute race for life. On swept the boat, our men pulling her through the water, though still stern foremost, at a pace such as she had rarely travelled before, and on crowded the canoes after us, spread out athwart the stream in the form of a crescent. Luckily for us, the channel at this point was not very wide, and by keeping in the middle of it we were able to throw a musket-shot clear across to either side, otherwise we should soon have found ourselves in a parlous case. The greater number of the canoes obstinately maintained a position in mid-stream ahead of us, thus presenting an insuperable barrier to our retreat down stream, whilst those on the outer wings to port and starboard of us hugged the bank of the stream, two or three of the larger craft making a big spurt ahead of the others now and then in an endeavour to outflank us, which endeavour, however, a well-directed volley of musketry always sufficed to check for the time being. At length we reached a point where the stream widened out considerably, enabling the canoes on each side to spread out sufficiently far to be beyond musket-shot, and we saw that upon the question whether we or the canoes passed this point first, hinged our fate. The natives, though evidently entertaining a wholesome dread of our carronade, were by no means so dismayed by the execution it wrought among them as we had hoped they would be, and indeed exhibited a decidedly growing disposition to close upon us in spite of our fire; in fact, our position was at every moment growing more critical. Very fortunately for us we happened to have a few rounds of canister in the boat, and Mildmay now resolved to try the effect of these upon the pertinacious natives. A charge of grape with one of canister on the top of it, was accordingly rammed home and sent flying into the thickest of the crowd of canoes immediately ahead of us, immediately succeeded by a like dose to the right and left wings of the flotilla. The canoes were just at about the right distance to give these murderous discharges their utmost possible effect, and the carnage among the thickly-crowded craft was simply indescribable. The effect was not only to check their advance effectually, but to actually put them to flight, and whilst a similar charge was again rammed home by those in charge of the gun the rest of the men slewed the boat round on her centre, and with a loud cheer gave way at top speed for the island. We were within a hundred yards of the low shingly beach when, to our astonishment, the roar of artillery from the island greeted our ears, and at the same instant half a dozen round-shot came flying about our ears. Fortunately no damage was done beyond the smashing of a couple of oars and the incontinent precipitation backwards into the bottom of the boat of the pullers thereof, amidst the uproarious laughter of all hands, and before these unfortunates had fairly picked themselves up, the cutter was sent surging half her length high and dry up on the beach, the carronade belched forth its contents, and out we jumped, master and man, and charged up to the sod battery which had fired upon us. We were greeted with a volley of musketry, which, however, never stopped us in our rush a single instant, and as we clambered in at one side we had the satisfaction of seeing the rascally Spaniards go flying out at the other, whence they made short miles of it to a boat which lay awaiting them on the beach at the opposite side of the island, some two or three hundred yards away. We sent a few ineffectual flying shots after them, but attempted no pursuit, as we now found ourselves to some extent masters of the situation; in so far, that is to say, that we found the battery admirably adapted as a place wherein to make a stand until such time as we could see our way clear to once more take offensive measures. As for the Spaniards, they made good their retreat to a large hulk which lay securely moored at a distance of some twenty yards from the steeply sloping eastern shore of the island, and which-- floating high out of the water as she did, with channel-plates removed and no gear whatever about her sides to aid us in boarding should we make the attempt--would, I foresaw, prove rather a hard nut for us to crack. Our footing thus made good upon the island and in the battery, we had a moment or two in which to look about us, and the first discovery made was that poor old Mildmay, the master, had been wounded, and was lying helpless, face downwards on the sward outside the battery. The next was, that the natives had recovered from their panic and were actually once more advancing against us, spreading out on all sides so as to completely encircle the island. The first object demanding our attention was, of course, the master. Directing the man Tom, our chief artilleryman, to look into the state of the guns belonging to the battery, and to load them afresh, I called a couple of men and took them with me to bring in the master. The poor old fellow was lying upon the grass face downwards, and when we gently raised him it became apparent that he had been bleeding rather profusely at the mouth. He was senseless and ghastly pale, and for the moment I feared he was dead. A low moan, however, as the men began to move with him, gave us the assurance that life was not quite extinct, and as gently as we could we lifted him over the low earth parapet, and laid him down under its shelter in comparative safety. The command of the party now devolved upon me, and a very serious responsibility under the circumstances I found it. Here we were cooped up in a small sod battery, wholly ineffectual to resist a determined assault; with a perfect cloud of hostile natives hovering about us apparently determined to be satisfied with nothing short of our absolute extermination; with a dozen vindictive Spaniards on board the hulk close at hand, doubtless as anxious as the natives to sweep us from the face of the earth; the French boat having vanished from the scene; and-- though there was drinkable water in abundance in the river so long as we might be able to get at it--_with only one day's provisions left_. CHAPTER NINETEEN. THE SITUATION BECOMES DESPERATE. "Well, Tom," said I, "what about the guns?--are they loaded?" "Yes, sir, they is," answered Tom; "and a most fort'nate circumstance it were that you ordered them guns to be loaded when you did, otherwise we should have been sent sky-high by this time." "Ah, indeed! how is that?" "Why, you see, sir, when I was ordered to load the guns I nat'rally looks round for the ammunition for to do it with; and though this is the first time as I've ever found myself aboard a reg'lar genewine land- battery, it didn't take me long for to make up my mind that if there was any ammunition anywheres aboard the thing, it must be in one of them there corner lockers. So I goes away and tries to open the door, which in course I finds locked. It didn't take Ned and me mor'n a jiffy, hows'ever, to prise off the lock; and when I looked in, there sure enough was the powder--a goodish quantity--all made up into cartridges, and there, too, I sees the black stump of a fuze with a red spark on the end fizzing and smoking away--a good un. I knowed what that meant in a second, Mr Hawkesley; so I whips out my knife, sings out to Ned to prise open the other two doors, and cuts off the live end of the fuze at once, and just in time. There warn't more nor an inch of it left. And when we got the other two doors open it were just the same, sir--half a minute more 'd ha' done for the lot of us, sir." "But you have taken care to see that the magazines are now all right?-- that there are no more live fuzes in them?" I exclaimed in considerable alarm. "Ay, ay, sir; never fear for me," answered Tom with a quiet grin. "They are safe enough now, sir; we gave 'em a good overhaul before doing anything else, sir." "Thank you, Tom," I replied; "you have rendered a most important service, which, if I live to get out of this scrape, I will not fail to report to Captain Vernon. But I should like to take a squint into these magazines myself." "Certingly, sir, by all means," returned Tom; and leading the way to the magazines he pointed out the manner in which the fuzes had been placed, and graphically redescribed the manner in which a terrible catastrophe had been averted. We had, indeed, had a frightfully narrow escape from destruction; for the magazines, of which there were three, one in each angle of the triangular-shaped battery, contained about one hundred cartridges each-- quite sufficient to have completely destroyed the battery and all in it. Having satisfied myself that all was safe here, I at once turned my attention to the next most pressing business of the moment, which was to secure the muskets, ammunition, provisions, and water in the cutter, and to make the craft herself as safe as possible. This was likely to prove a somewhat hazardous task, as the canoes were now close to the beach and pressing rapidly in on all sides. I felt greatly averse to further slaughter; but in this case I scarcely saw how it was to be averted, the natives being so pertinacious in their attacks. It was quite evident that we must either kill or be killed. I therefore most reluctantly gave the order for the discharge of the six nine-pounders which the battery mounted right into the thickest of the crowd--the men to immediately afterwards rush for the boat, secure their muskets and ammunition, and at once return to the battery. This was done; and without pausing an instant to note the effect away we all went down to the boat, seized as much as we could conveniently carry, and immediately scampered back again. The whole operation did not occupy more than a couple of minutes; and I had the satisfaction of seeing all hands scramble back into the battery before the natives had recovered from the check of our last discharge. So far so good; but a great many things still remained in the boat, especially the provisions and water, which it was absolutely necessary that we should secure; so I called for volunteers to accompany me on a second trip to the cutter. All hands proving equally willing to go, I picked half-a-dozen, leaving the remainder in the battery to cover us with their muskets. Leaping the low sod parapet of the battery we once more made a dash for the boat; and the natives, catching sight of us, instantly raised a terrific yell and came paddling toward us at top speed. "Out with your cutlasses, men!" I exclaimed; "we shall have to fight our way back this time, I believe. Now each man seize as much as he can carry in one hand, and keep close together. Now are you all ready? Then march. Ah! capital!" as the lads in the battery bowled over three or four blacks who had landed and were rushing down upon us. "Now _run for it_!" Away we went, helter-skelter, and once more got safely within the compass of our sheltering walls, though not until I--who, of course, had to be last in seeking cover--had been overtaken and surrounded by some half-a-dozen furious blacks, two of whom I succeeded in disabling with my sword, whilst the remaining four were promptly placed _hors-de- combat_ by the muskets of those who were covering our retreat. Taking fresh courage, perhaps, at our limited number, and possibly also feeling more at home in a fight on dry land than when in their canoes, the natives now closed in upon us on all sides, effecting a landing on the island and pressing forward, with loud cries and much brandishing of spears, to attack the battery. This battery, it may be well to explain, was a small equilateral triangular affair built of sods, and measuring about thirty-five feet on each of its sides. It mounted six nine- pounder brass guns, two to each side; and its walls rose to a height of about seven feet above the ground outside, a ledge about three feet wide on the inside being raised some three feet all round the interior of the walls, thus enabling those on the inside to fire over the low parapet. The guns were mounted on ordinary ship carriages and were unprovided with tackles, being placed upon wooden platforms slightly sloping forward, so that when loaded they could be easily run out by hand, the recoil of the discharge sending them back up the slight slope into loading position. The three angles of the battery were, as has already been intimated, occupied by the magazines. The natives advanced boldly to the attack, and for the moment I must confess that I felt almost dismayed as I looked around me and got a clear idea of their overwhelming numbers. However, there was no escape--we were completely hemmed in on every side; and if we were to die I thought we might as well die fighting; so, waiting until they were within a few yards only of the walls, I gave the order to fire, and the report of the six nine-pounders rang sharply out upon the evening air. Each man then seized his loaded musket, saw that his naked cutlass was ready to his hand, and waited breathlessly for the inevitable rush. The round-shot ploughed six well-defined lanes through the approaching phalanx; but our persevering foes had apparently become accustomed to the effects of artillery fire by this time, seeming to regard it as a disagreeable concomitant to the struggle which _must_ be faced, but which, after all, was not so very formidable. They had already acquired the knowledge that the guns, once fired, were perfectly harmless until they could be re-loaded, and that the operation of reloading required a certain amount of time. The moment, therefore, that they received our fire they charged down upon the battery, evidently feeling that the worst was over and that it now amounted to no more than an ordinary hand-to-hand fight. "Here they come, lads, with a vengeance!" I exclaimed. "Take your muskets and _aim low_--make every bullet do double or treble duty if you can. Keep cool, and be careful not to throw a single shot away." This was excellent advice to give, especially as the giver thereof needed it perhaps more than any of those around him; but it was spoken with a calm and steady voice, and the lads responded to it with a hearty and inspiring cheer. They levelled their muskets carefully and steadily over the top of the sod parapet, selecting a particular mark and firing only when they felt sure of their aim, though at the moment a perfect cloud of spears came flying into the battery. The next instant our foes were upon us, and then commenced a furious, breathless, desperate hand- to-hand fight which lasted fully ten minutes--the blacks leaping upward or assisting each other in their efforts to surmount the parapet, and we cutting and slashing right and left without a moment's breathing-space in an equally determined effort to keep them out. During the very thick of the fight light thin jets of smoke were seen to issue from the joints and crevices in the wooden walls of the huge barrack-like structure to windward of us, the jets rapidly growing in numbers and volume and being speedily succeeded by thin arrowy tongues of flame which shot into view for a moment, disappeared, and then appeared again, darting along the surface of the wood and uniting with others, until the entire building became completely enveloped in the flames, which no doubt the Spaniards had kindled on their retreat, in order to make assurance doubly sure, as it were, and in the event of their little scheme for the destruction of the battery miscarrying, to deprive us of what would have afforded us an excellent retreat in which to have withstood a siege. The smoke, thick, pungent, and suffocating, from the tar and pitch with which the roof and sides of the building had been from time to time liberally coated, drifted down directly upon us in such dense volumes that it was difficult to see an arm's-length ahead, making the act of breathing next to an impossibility, and causing our eyes to stream with water, whilst the heat soon became almost insupportable. Our enemies, however, did not seem to be in the slightest degree incommoded either by the heat or the smoke, but, perceiving how greatly it embarrassed us, pressed forward more eagerly than ever to the attack. We, however, were fighting for our lives, and it is astonishing how much men can do under such circumstances. We actually succeeded in keeping the foe outside our three walls, and finally, after a prolonged effort which inspired us with a most profound sense of their individual intrepidity, they retired, carrying off their dead and wounded with them. They made a most daring attempt to carry off the cutter also with them in their retreat, but fortunately she was secured by a chain attached to the anchor, the latter being firmly embedded in the soil among the long grass; and the idea of pulling it up not seeming to present itself to any of them, they were compelled to abandon the attempt, owing to the galling musketry fire which we maintained upon them. Exhausted, breathless, with our lips black with powder from the bitten ends of the cartridges, our skins begrimed with smoke, and with the perspiration streaming down our bodies, we now had a moment's breathing- space to look about us. The ground inside the battery literally _bristled_ with the spears which had been launched at us, but, marvellous to relate, only three of our number had been hurt in the recent scuffle, and that but very slightly. The injuries, such as they were, were promptly attended to, I at the same time doing what I could for poor old Mildmay; the guns and muskets were re-loaded, and then, placing a look-out at each angle of the battery, we sank down upon the ground and snatched such a hasty meal as was possible under the circumstances. I embraced the opportunity afforded by this interval of tranquillity to point out to my small command the necessity for placing them upon a short allowance of food. I reminded them that, at the conclusion of the meal which we were then discussing, only one clear day's rations would remain to us, and that, though the French boat had doubtless made good her escape down the river--and, in that case, would probably reach the creek early enough that same evening to make Captain Vernon acquainted with our critical situation--we could scarcely reckon upon the appearance of a relief expedition under twenty-four hours from the time of speaking. I added that, further, it would be only wise to allow another twenty-four hours for possible unforeseen delays, rendering it not improbable that we should have to pass forty-eight hours in our present position, and that I had therefore decided, for these prudential reasons, that it would be necessary to place the party for that period on half rations. The men accepted this decision of mine with the utmost readiness, and, in fact, seemed agreeably surprised to find that I considered it likely we should be rescued in so short a time. By the time that we had concluded our hasty meal the barrack--which after all, and notwithstanding its size, was a mere wooden shell of a place--had become a shapeless heap of smouldering ruins, and we were consequently to a great extent relieved of the annoyance from the heat and smoke. Now that the place was actually destroyed I was glad rather than otherwise, for standing as it did so close to the battery, it would, had it remained in existence, have afforded splendid "cover" for the enemy, behind which they would have been enabled to steal close up to us unobserved, necessitating a most unremitting watch, in spite of which a sudden unexpected rush might have put them in possession of the battery. Now, however, nothing in the nature of a surprise could well occur, for by the destruction of the barrack we were enabled to obtain an uninterrupted view from the battery all over the diminutive islet upon which it stood. Half an hour after the conclusion of our meal the wind dropped away to a flat calm, the sun went down behind the low range of hills which stretched away to the westward of us, the landscape assumed a tint of rapidly deepening, all-pervading grey, the mist-wreaths rose from the bosom of the whirling river and stealthily gathered about the island like a beleaguering army of phantoms, and the solemn hush of night was broken only by the loud _chirr_ of the insects and the lapping ripple of the rushing stream. Thicker and thicker gathered the mist about us until at last it became impossible to see across from one side of the battery to the other, and then ensued an anxious time indeed for all of us, and especially so for me, upon whom rested the responsibility of directing what steps should be taken for the safety and preservation of the little force under me. Would the natives attempt another attack that night under cover of the fog? I thought it highly probable that they would, seeing how important an advantage it would be to them to have the power of arranging their forces and creeping up to the very walls of the battery undetected. The idea indeed occurred to me, that under cover of that same fog it might be possible for us to take once more to the cutter, and, letting her drift with the current, in that way slip unobserved away down the river. But a very few minutes' consideration of that scheme sufficed to convince me of its impracticability. I felt convinced that our enemies were quite shrewd enough to anticipate and make due provision for any such attempt on our part. I felt certain, indeed, that would the fog but lift for a moment, of which, however, there was not the most remote probability, we should find ourselves completely hemmed in by a cordon of canoes lying silently and patiently in waiting for the undertaking of some such attempt on our part. And, doubtless, all their arrangements were so framed that, in the event of our making any such attempt, a simple signal would announce our whereabouts and enable the entire flotilla to close in at once upon us; in which case our fate must be certain and speedy. No, I decided, the risk was altogether too great and the prospects of success too infinitesimal to justify any such attempt. Then as to the expected attack. They would probably wait an hour or two, in the hope of tempting us to venture afloat; then, failing that, they would cautiously close in upon the island, land, steal up as close as possible to the battery, and then endeavour to overpower us with a sudden rush. Fortunately it was not absolutely dark, notwithstanding the fog, there being a moon in her first quarter, which, though invisible, imparted a certain luminous quality to the haze; and two or three stars of the first magnitude were faintly visible in the zenith, so that if any fighting had to be done we should at least have light enough to distinguish between friend and foe. This anticipation of an attempted surprise of course necessitated the maintenance of a keen and incessant look-out I accordingly posted half my small command round the walls, with instructions to fire unhesitatingly at any moving object which might come within their range of vision. But I did not expect an _immediate_ attack; indeed, the more I weighed the chances of such a thing the less did they appear to be, and in the meantime we were in urgent need of water, our stock being almost exhausted. Hitherto we had refrained from drinking the river water, it having a peculiar sweetish taste which scarcely suited our palates, but very soon it would be "river water or nothing," and I thought that probably this pause of expectation, as it were, would afford us as good an opportunity as we were likely to have for refilling our breakers. I therefore directed the party who were not engaged upon sentry duty to make ready for a trip to the river with two of the empty breakers. But before engaging so large a portion of my little force in an expedition which, though of the briefest, might expose them to great, because unexpected, dangers, I resolved to reconnoitre the ground in person, and with this object in view slipped noiselessly over the parapet to the ground outside, and throwing myself at full length upon the grass, already wet with the heavy dew, commenced a slow and disagreeable journey to the water side. I intended at first to take a look at the cutter _en passant_, but a moment's thought decided me against this course, it being just possible that I might find a few savages either already established in possession or keeping a stealthy watch upon the boat in readiness to pounce upon any incautious white man who might venture to approach her. I accordingly set out in a direction about at right angles to that which would have led me down to the boat, and though this entailed a considerably longer journey I regarded it as also a very much safer one. After a somewhat long and tedious journey--long, that is to say, in point of time, though the distance traversed was very short--I reached the water's edge without adventure, and without having seen the slightest sign indicating the presence of savages upon the island. I therefore hastened back to the battery--narrowly escaping being shot by one of our people, who, in his excessive alertness, fired upon me without first giving the challenge--and hastily gathering together the watering-party led them to the brink of the river and succeeded in securing a couple of breakers of water, which I considered would be sufficient to last us for the next twenty-four hours. Then ensued a long period of tense, incessant, and painful watching for the enemy, who, I anticipated, might make their appearance at any moment. But hour after hour dragged laggingly away, the whole force kept incessantly on the _qui vive_ to guard against the expected attempt at surprise, the men, wearied out by their excessive exertions of the previous day, needing a continuous, uninterrupted round of visits from me to prevent their falling asleep upon their arms. And thus the long night at length wore itself away; a faint glimmer of dawn appeared in the eastern sky, rapidly brightening, the fog assumed a rosy flush, and presently up rose the glorious sun, gleaming like a white-hot ball through the haze, a faint breeze from the westward sprang up, the mist rolled away like a curtain, and there lay the noble river around us, sparkling like a sheet of molten silver under the morning sunbeams. And there, too, lay the flotilla of canoes, completely hemming us in on every side, thus fully justifying the caution which had prevented my attempting to effect an escape down the river during the preceding night. It was exasperating now to the last degree to know that our night's rest had been thrown away for nothing, and that, for all the benefit our vigilance had been to us, all hands might just as well have lain down and gone to sleep all night; but repining was of no use; we had naturally expected an attack and had held ourselves in readiness to meet it, and the only thing that remained was to snatch what rest we could during the day. It was a great advantage to be able to once more _see_ our enemies; and as there seemed to be no immediate disposition on their part to make a move, I gave orders for breakfast to be got under weigh as speedily as possible, stationing a look-out at each angle of the battery during the discussion of the meal. We had scarcely settled ourselves when the alarm was given that the canoes were advancing, and, leaping to our feet, we found that such was indeed the case, the whole fleet having tripped their anchors and begun paddling in toward the island. We at once opened fire upon them from the nine-pounders as a matter of course, but the rascals had not only learned wisdom but had also evidently very sharp eyes, for at the moment when the match was about to be applied to the guns the canoes immediately in the line of fire smartly swerved from their course and the shot went hissing harmlessly past, missing their mark by the merest hair's-breadth. Before we had time to load again the savages had effected a landing upon the beach, and then ensued a repetition of the previous day's fighting, excepting that our antagonists fought with their energies renewed by a quiet night's rest and more obstinately than ever, whilst we were weary and fagged by our long and fruitless watch. During the desperate struggle which consumed the next quarter of an hour half a dozen natives managed at different times to actually force their way into the battery, but luckily for us they got in only one at a time and they were promptly despatched. At last they were beaten off and compelled to retire to their canoes as before, carrying away with them their killed and wounded--of whom I counted no less than thirty being borne away by their comrades--our lads "freshening their way" for them with a hot musketry fire so long as they remained within range. Then followed another brief interval during which we finished our scanty breakfast, after which, having seen the guns and muskets loaded afresh, I undertook to maintain a look-out, and ordered the men to lie down and snatch such rest as they could get. But our foes, wily as savages always are, had evidently in their recent hand-to-hand struggle with us detected the evidences of our extreme fatigue, and were by no means disposed to allow us much time or opportunity to recuperate our exhausted energies, for the men had scarcely flung themselves upon the ground, where sleep instantly seized upon them, when the canoes were once more put in motion and again the unhappy blue-jackets were called upon to resist an attack. I now began to feel a strong suspicion that the enemy had quite counted upon our being kept upon the alert during the whole of the previous night, the perfect silence which they had maintained being, as they very probably surmised, rather a harassing than a reassuring circumstance to us, and that they fully intended to take the fullest possible advantage of this during the ensuing day. But their heavy losses in killed and wounded had at the same time made them increasingly wary, and for the next hour or two they contented themselves with a continuous series of demonstrations which drew our fire and kept us incessantly on the alert, without actually renewing their attack. At length the wind dropped away to a flat calm and the rays of the unclouded sun beat remorselessly down upon us with a fierce intensity which in our exhausted condition was positive agony. A burning unquenchable thirst took possession of us, and the men resorted to the water-kegs so incessantly that the water diminished with startling rapidity, and foreseeing the possible difficulty of obtaining a further supply I was at last reluctantly compelled to put them upon an allowance, so that very speedily we had thirst added to our other miseries. And during all this time our aching eyes were every moment directed down the river in the hope, which grew less and less as the day wore on, of detecting the approach of the boats which we felt certain were on their way to effect our rescue. CHAPTER TWENTY. RESCUED. Finally the long, harassing, anxious day drew to a close, the sun set, the night-mists gathered once more about us, and the hoped-for rescue had not appeared. We were by this time completely worn out, and I foresaw that unless the men could obtain a little rest our pertinacious enemies must inevitably prove victorious. Of course in this matter of rest everything depended upon the behaviour of the foe. If from principle or superstition, or for any other reason, it was their invariable habit to abstain from fighting at night all might yet be well with us, for though our stock of provisions and water was getting low, and the ammunition for our muskets was getting short, I felt convinced that, could our lads but secure three or tour hours of unbroken rest, they were quite equal to holding the battery for another twenty-four hours at least. Unfortunately I knew nothing whatever about the fighting customs of the natives, and was consequently quite without a guide of any kind beyond my own reason. I felt convinced that the blacks had fully realised the advantage to them of our fagged condition during the past day, and had little doubt but that they were acute enough to trace it to its correct source; the question then was, would they allow us to pass an undisturbed night and thus sacrifice an important advantage? I greatly doubted it. But they might allow a few hours' cessation of hostilities in the hope of lulling us into a feeling of false security, and thus making us the victims of an easy, yet well- executed surprise. The more I thought about the matter the more probable did this course of action appear; and at last I resolved to put it to the test by dividing the men into watches and allowing them an hour's sleep at a time. But before doing this I thought I would repeat my experiment of the previous night and endeavour to secure a little more water, and this I did with such signal success that we actually refilled all our breakers, besides giving every man an opportunity to completely slake his thirst. It was just eight o'clock p.m. by the time that we had completed our preparations, and I then made half the men lie down, which they did, falling instantly asleep. This of course necessitated increased vigilance on the part of the watchers, each of whom had to guard a double length of parapet; but the first hour passed peacefully away, and the sleepers were awakened in order that we might have our turn. It was really amusing, notwithstanding the gravity of our situation, to hear each man protest as he sat up and rubbed his eyes that we had not treated them fairly, and that they had only that moment fallen asleep. But when assured to the contrary they roused up at once, and I was greatly gratified to see that, short as had been their period of rest, it had undoubtedly done them a world of good. The "watch on deck" was placed under the command of the man Tom who had done such good service with the carronade on board the cutter, he being, in my opinion, the most trustworthy man in the party; and giving him the most stringent orders to keep a bright look-out, to fire at once and unhesitatingly on any moving object which might make its appearance, and to call me in the event of anything taking place out of the common, I flung myself upon the ground with my back to the sod parapet, and in the act of folding my arms across my chest fell asleep. To be cruelly awakened the next instant, almost before I had had time to fully realise the blessedness of the gift of sleep. "Well, Tom, what is it? Has the enemy hove in sight!" I exclaimed pettishly, rubbing away at my eyes to force them open. "No, sir; everything's still quiet, thank God." "Then what did you wake me for, in Heaven's name!" "Four bells, sir; our turn for a spell of sleep again, sir," was the exasperating reply. "Four bells! Nonsense!" I could not believe it. As in the case of the others it really seemed as though I had not actually had time to get to sleep at all, yet I had slept soundly for an hour, and on staggering to my feet, though the abrupt awakening had inflicted upon me positive suffering, I found when fairly awake, that I was very distinctly the better for my short nap, which seemed to have made up, at least partially, in soundness what it lacked in duration. Another hour passed peacefully--and this time not quite so laggingly-- away; our turn again arrived for a rest; and once more did we enjoy for a brief space the bliss of perfect oblivion. At midnight we were called again, Tom reporting that neither sight nor sound had occurred during his watch to disturb him. We now began to feel really refreshed, and during the next hour some of the men in my watch actually found superfluous energy enough to hum under their breath a snatch or two of a forecastle song as they paced vigilantly to and fro over the short stretch of ground which constituted their "beat." As the silent hour flitted away without disquieting sight or sound of any kind I began to feel sanguine that we were going to be blessed with uninterrupted peace for the remainder of the night, and inwardly resolved that if matters still continued satisfactory after my watch had had its next hour's sleep I would extend the period of sleep to two hours for the next watch, which, with what they had already had, ought to put them in excellent trim for the fatigues of the succeeding day, whatever they might be. And with this resolve still uppermost in my mind I laid down and once more dropped to sleep when my turn came at one o'clock a.m. Two o'clock arrived, our watch was called, and still there had been no sign of the enemy. I thought we might now safely reckon upon being allowed to pass the remainder of the night undisturbed; I accordingly informed the retiring watch that unless we happened to be attacked in the interim they would now be allowed to sleep for a spell of two hours instead of one, and they forthwith composed themselves for a good long nap. But it was not to be. An hour later one of the men startled us all into instant wakefulness by sharply giving the challenge, which was instantly repeated all round the battery, and peering anxiously into the fog I detected the indistinct presence of several shapeless objects lying prone upon the ground where I knew that nothing of the kind ought to be. These objects were quite motionless; but the man who had first given the challenge assured me that his attention had first been attracted to them by a stealthy movement. Ordering the man to at once rouse the sleepers, cautioning them individually to take up their proper stations an noiselessly behind the parapet, I waited until every man had gained his post, and then taking a steady aim at one of the objects I discharged my musket. With a shriek of pain the object at which I had fired half raised itself to an erect position and then fell heavily forward. At the same moment a loud blood-curdling yell resounded upon the heavy night air, and the foggy background instantly became alive with the forms of the savages who sprang to their feet and came bounding toward the battery, hurling their spears as they came. "Take steady aim, my men; select your mark, and each bring down your man if possible; keep cool now. Ah! I am hit!" I exclaimed, as a spear came whizzing in over the parapet, passing clean through the fleshy part of my right thigh. In the excitement of the moment it did not take me a second to relieve myself of my unpleasant encumbrance by drawing the spear shaft right through the wound; and the next moment I found myself engaged with the rest in resisting the hottest and most determined assault to which we had hitherto been subjected. Luckily for us the battery was only a small affair, and our party was therefore large enough to take pretty good care of it, otherwise that night attack would have ended the business. But our men had now had the benefit and refreshment of three hours' sound sleep, and they fought with such renewed energy, such dogged determination, that the assault again failed, and the savages were once more driven off. That satisfied them for the time being. They had deferred their attack until the early hours of the morning, doubtless hoping to find us worn out with ceaseless watching, and perchance at length overcome with sleep; and instead of that we had been found more alert than ever; in their anxiety to take us unawares they had rather overdone it, in fact, and the result was that they left us undisturbed for the short remainder of the night. There was, however, no more rest for us; after this well-planned attempt at a surprise I dare not allow any of my small party to again go off duty, and sunrise found us still anxiously watching for another attack. When the mist at length cleared away we discovered the hostile canoes still closely hemming us in; but they now seemed to have tired of their fruitless efforts to take the battery by assault, and had apparently made up their minds to try the effect of a regular siege. This was bad enough; for our provisions, though husbanded with the utmost care, were only sufficient to allow us a mere mouthful each for two meals during that day; but to be spared the fatigue of constantly fighting was something to be grateful for; and I felt certain that the relief expedition _must_ appear before the lapse of many hours longer. We consequently sat down to our scanty morning meal not only with excellent appetites but also in very fair spirits, considering what we had lately been called upon to endure; and, the meal over, I next devoted my attention to the wounded, of whom there were by this time several, and did what I could to make them and myself as comfortable as possible. About an hour after sunrise a little air from the eastward sprang up, and by nine a.m. it was blowing quite a free breeze, which, though it certainly refreshed us greatly, and was in pleasing contrast to the suffocating heat of the day before, I was rather sorry to see; for I knew that, combined with the current, it would seriously retard the advance of our friends up the river. To tell the truth, I was getting to be a trifle anxious about this matter; I could not at all understand why it was that we had been left to take care of ourselves so long. If the French boat had reached the creek in safety she would doubtless arrive about ten or eleven p.m., or a few hours only after our establishment of ourselves upon the island. Forty hours or thereabouts had elapsed since then, yet there was no sign of help. Could it be possible that the Frenchmen had _not_ escaped after all? In that case we might have to wait another day, or even a couple of days; for I thought it scarcely probable that Captain Vernon would take alarm on the instant of our becoming overdue. I was anxiously weighing all these surmises in my mind, and endeavouring to arrive at a fair and reasonable estimate of the longest possible time we might still be expected to hold out, when the look-out men raised a simultaneous cheer, followed by a joyous shout of-- "The boats! The boats! Here they come. _Hurrah_!" With one bound I reached the parapet; and, sure enough, at a distance of only three- quarters of a mile away, and just sweeping fairly into view from behind the next island below us, the launch, pinnace, and second cutter of the _Daphne_ appeared, with their ensigns streaming in the breeze and the quick-flashing oar-blades and the bayonets of the "jollies" gleaming brightly in the sun. "Up, lads! and give them a cheer, just to let them know where we are," I exclaimed exultantly; and at the word up scrambled the whole of our little party except poor old Mildmay, who was too seriously hurt to move without assistance--and from the top of the parapet we sent echoing down to them upon the wings of the breeze three such ringing cheers as must have assured them of the sincerity of our delight at their appearance. As the sound reached the boats I saw the officers rise in the stern- sheets and wave their caps to us in response; the oar-blades flashed quicker in the sun; the foam gathered in increasing volume under the bows of the boats as their crews put on an extra spurt; and presently a flash and a puff of fleecy smoke started out simultaneously from each boat, and the _boom_ of the three reports came dull and heavy to us against the opposing breeze. Of course we fully expected that the mere appearance of the boats would suffice to put our sable enemies to flight, but nothing of the kind happened; on the contrary, the canoes resolutely faced the new-comers, and evinced a very decided disposition to dispute their passage up the river. We should beat them to a certainty; no one in their sober senses could for a moment doubt that; but in the meantime, if it actually came to a hand-to-hand tussle between whites and blacks we in the battery, who had already had so many opportunities of observing their perfect fearlessness, knew very well that the latter could make matters decidedly difficult and unpleasant for our friends. But it was no time just then for cogitation, the moment for decisive action had arrived, and I forthwith took the necessary steps to enable our party to do their share of the work in hand. "That will do, lads," I exclaimed, as the men on the parapet paused to recover the breath they had expended in their vociferous greeting to the boats. "Jump down and man the guns. Load and double shot them; and you, Tom, place the remainder of those fuzes in the magazine in such a way that they will do their work effectually when required. We will give the canoes another broadside, just to `freshen their way' and show them that we are in earnest; and then I shall abandon and blow up the battery previous to shoving off to join our lads yonder." The men turned to with a will; the guns were loaded; and I then went with Tom to personally inspect the arrangement of the fuzes. When all was ready I gave the word to fire; the six guns belched forth their contents simultaneously; and without waiting to see what damage had been done, the men seized their muskets, the water-kegs, and our few other belongings; and with two hands specially detailed to convey the master carefully down to the boat, all hands, excepting Tom and myself, left the battery and made the best of their way down to the cutter, which, after depositing poor old Mildmay as comfortably as possible in the stern-sheets, they got afloat. "Step your mast," I shouted, "and see all ready for hoisting the sail." We waited patiently until we saw that everything was ready on board the cutter; and then Tom and I ignited the fuzes in the three magazines. It was awfully risky work, as the fuzes were fearfully short; but it had to be done, and it was done coolly and smartly, after which we bounded over the low parapet and ran for our lives down to the boat. "Shove off and give way for your lives, men," I panted, as we tumbled in over the gunwale with a considerable loss of shin-leather; and in another instant we were surging away from the island as fast as the oars and sail would drive us. The men were just belaying the halliards of the lug when--_boom_--a dull heavy report came from the battery; a great black cloud of smoke and dust, liberally intermixed with clods and stones and masses of earth, shot up into the air; and when it cleared away _the battery was gone_. "Now, Tom, jump forward, my man, and get that carronade loaded with grape or canister or langridge, _anything_ you happen to have handy, and be smart about it, my fine fellow," I exclaimed, as I saw a group of canoes separate themselves from the rest and form in line across our course, evidently for the purpose of opposing our passage and preventing our effecting a junction with our friends. "Load your muskets, men, and draw your cutlasses; we must get through that line of canoes somehow, and I mean to do it." The men obeyed without a word; their blood was by this time thoroughly aroused; they were all a-quiver with eager excitement; and as I looked at them sitting there upon the thwarts, facing forward, with their naked cutlasses beside them and their loaded muskets firmly grasped in their hands, their fingers just feeling the triggers, their teeth clenched, and their eyes flashing, I felt that nothing short of a frigate with her crew at quarters would stop them. The rescuing party was by this time smartly engaged with the main body of the canoes, and by their tardy progress I knew that they already had their hands fully occupied. The detachment which had assumed the responsibility of intercepting us had separated itself some distance from the main body, and was now formed in a double line right across our course, altering its position from time to time in such a manner as to keep always square ahead of us. I saw that it would be useless to attempt to dodge them; we had not time for that; so I directed the coxswain to steer straight for the broadside of the midship canoe, the craft, that is to say, which occupied the centre of the opposing line. She was a biggish craft for a canoe, being somewhere about fifty feet long, and manned by forty negroes; the canoe which lay on her starboard side, or beyond her, being about the same size. There were sixteen more canoes in the line; and altogether they presented the appearance of a very formidable barrier. But I had had an opportunity of learning pretty well what they were when Smellie and I, bound hand and foot, took our memorable cruise up the river in one of them, and I knew that they were, after all, but very crank, flimsy, fragile affairs, not to be compared for a moment in strength with the stout boat which carried us at such a gallant pace over the swirling river. So I determined to give our foolhardy opponents the stem, trusting to the weight and momentum of the boat to enable us to break through the line. On rushed the cutter, the breeze roaring merrily over her, and the broad lag-sail dragging at her like a team of cart-horses; whilst Tom crouched in the bows, squinting along the sights of his piece, and holding himself in readiness to fire at the instant that he should get the order. We were within a hundred feet of the line of canoes when the crew of the big craft began to see danger; they had hoped, by their persistent demonstration of barring our path, to intimidate us, but, now that it was too late, they saw that they had failed, that we meant mischief; and, setting up a loud yell of consternation, they plied their paddles desperately in an effort to avoid the impending collision. It was unavailing; the canoes ahead and astern of them, confused like themselves, and only imperfectly comprehending what their comrade would be at, closed in upon instead of separating from them; and immediate dire confusion was the result. When within twenty yards of them Tom delivered the contents of his carronade; and an immediate outburst of groans, yells, and shrieks bore testimony to the accuracy of his aim. Before the smoke had fairly cleared away the cutter was upon them. The big canoe nearest us had been torn nearly in halves by the discharge of the carronade, and we swept over her almost without feeling it. The other big fellow was, however, afloat and apparently uninjured. Another yell of terror went up from her occupants as our sail overshadowed them; there was a violent shock as our strong iron-bound stem crashed down upon their gunwale; the canoe heeled over; and the cutter leaped upward as she crushed her way through and over this second adversary. For a few seconds we were involved in a confused medley of canoes and wreckage, of drowning savages wildly clutching at the gunwales of the boat in an ineffectual effort to save themselves; there was a rattling volley of musketry, a flash or two of cutlass blades, and then away sped the cutter once more. _We were through_. Our carronade was quickly loaded again, but happily further destruction of human life was unnecessary. The savages, who seemed to have depended implicitly upon the power of their detached squadron to stop us, became demoralised when they saw the cutter dash irresistibly through the opposing line, and receiving at the same time very severe treatment at the hands of the rescuing party, they broke up suddenly and beat a precipitate retreat, each canoe seemingly striving to outdo the rest in the speed of its flight. And thus ended victoriously for us the fight which we had been for over forty hours maintaining against such apparently overwhelming odds. We soon found ourselves alongside the launch; and hearty were the congratulations and eager the questions which were showered upon us by her crew, quickly repeated by those of the other two boats, which joined in almost immediately afterwards. "You seem to have been in rather a bad fix," exclaimed Armitage, who was in command of the boats, as he shook me heartily by the hand. "Tell us all about it." I detailed as succinctly as possible all that had transpired since our departure from the ship, and wound up by a suggestion that if they had any spare rations they would be most acceptable. "Rations!" exclaimed Armitage; "to be sure we have, my boy; but let us adjourn to this island of yours, where we can get them properly cooked. I feel curious to see the spot which you held so pluckily for so long a time. But, by the by, where is the French boat all this time?" "The French boat? Has she not turned up at the creek?" I exclaimed in surprise. "We felt certain of her escape, and indeed depended upon the information she would convey of our predicament for the despatch of assistance." "She had not put in an appearance up to the time of our starting at noon yesterday, nor have we seen any sign of her during our passage up the stream," was the reply. "You were due to return, you know, the evening before last, and when yesterday morning came, without your appearance, Captain Vernon became uneasy. He allowed you until noon, however; but when noon passed, leaving you still _non est_, he came to the conclusion that something was amiss, and despatched us in quest of you at once. So this is the scene of the struggle, eh?" as the boats grounded on the beach of the island. "A pretty scene of ruin it is." And so it was. The battery had been completely obliterated by the explosion, nothing remaining to mark its site but the scattered fragments of the sod walls and the dismounted guns; the charred remains of the barrack, a short distance away, aiding to complete the picture of destruction. An immense number of native spears were lying scattered about all over the ground, and these were promptly collected by the seamen as souvenirs of the struggle. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. AN AWFUL CATASTROPHE. Meanwhile the Spaniards were still lying _perdu_ on board the hulk as they had remained from the moment of our driving them out the battery. During the discussion of our much-needed meal the question of what steps we should take with regard to them had been canvassed; and, our appetites at length satisfied, Armitage and I walked across the island to make a closer inspection of the position of the craft. I had wondered greatly, at odd times during our protracted struggle with the savages, how the Spaniards had managed to transfer so rapidly from the barrack to the hulk the large number of slaves which the former must have contained, and now the riddle was solved. On arriving abreast of the hulk we found that a small timber jetty had been constructed from the shore to a point within fifty yards of the hulk, and we could see in a moment that by easing off the moorings of the hulk, the current would carry her fairly alongside this jetty, where, without doubt, she must have been lying when we first hove in sight. The slaves had evidently been marched straight on board her over the jetty, and her bow and stern moorings then hove in until she had been hauled far enough away from the jetty to render her capture by its means impossible. After a little further conversation with Armitage it was agreed that the Spaniards should be hailed and ordered to surrender, and this was accordingly done. We had no very great hope of success, as we felt sure the Spaniards must be fully aware of the difficulty we should experience in capturing the hulk. As before stated, she towered so high out of the water and her sides were so bare that the Spaniards, small as was their number, could effectually resist all our efforts to capture her by boarding; to fire into and sink her would only result in the destruction of all the slaves on board her; and as she was moored with heavy chains, instead of hemp hawsers, to cut her adrift and let her ground upon the island was quite as impracticable as would have been any attempt to board her. We were therefore very agreeably surprised when the Spaniards, in response to our hail, at once consented to abandon the hulk, provided we would allow them to depart unmolested in their boat. This arrangement suited us very well, we being just then anything but anxious to hamper ourselves with prisoners, and the required promise was unhesitatingly made. The Spaniards thereupon provisioned their boat, lowered her into the water, and half an hour later disappeared round a bend of the river on their way down stream. Taking immediate possession of the hulk, we dropped her in alongside the jetty once more, and landed the slaves upon the island. They were all, for a wonder, in fairly good condition, having evidently been well taken care of, with the view of fitting them as thoroughly as possible to withstand the terrible hardships of the notorious Middle Passage. Having at length cleared the hulk we next transferred the slaves in batches to the boats, by which they were conveyed across the stream to the mainland, where they were freed and left to shift for themselves, the provisions found on board the hulk being distributed as evenly as possible among them. Landed thus in a possibly hostile country--for they were evidently a different race of people from those with whom we had recently had so desperate a struggle--unarmed, and with only a small supply of provisions, their situation was perhaps not very much better than it had been when they lay prisoners on board the hulk, but it was all we had it in our power to do for them under the circumstances, and we could only hope that their wit would prove equal to the task of steering them clear of the many dangers to which they were exposed, and conducting them safely back to their own country. There were rather more than eight hundred of them altogether, counting in the piccaninnies, and the transfer of them to the mainland fully occupied us until within half an hour of sunset. As we were by that time pretty well fagged out, and as it was manifestly too late to make any progress worth speaking of on our way back to the creek that night, we resolved to remain until daylight upon the island, which we did without receiving molestation or annoyance of any kind from anybody. At eight o'clock on the following morning, having previously breakfasted, we started down the river, keeping a bright look-out for the French boat all the way down, and exploring all the most likely creeks and indentations on the south bank of the river, without discovering any trace of her. This protracted search so seriously delayed our progress that we were two whole days making the passage back to the creek, and on our arrival there we discovered that three survivors of the French party had turned up on board the _Vestale_ the previous day, reporting the capture of the boat by the natives, and the massacre of all hands except the three who had managed somehow to slip their bonds and make good their escape in a canoe. They had reported that their capture was due to our _abandonment_ of them, it appeared, and the insinuation, which Captain Vernon had indignantly repudiated, had occasioned a very serious outbreak of ill-feeling between the two ships, so much so indeed that the commander of the _Vestale_ had left the river in high dudgeon on the morning of the day of our arrival, refusing absolutely to co-operate with us any further. I was, of course, subjected to a very severe cross-examination by Captain Vernon on the subject; but my detailed narrative of the affair, which was confirmed in every particular by poor old Mildmay, soon satisfied him that the fault, if fault there was, rested not with us; and both Mildmay and myself were fully exonerated from all blame. Nay more--the master generously represented my defence of the battery in such a light that I received the skipper's highest commendations and renewed promises of support and assistance in my career. At sunrise next morning we weighed and stood out to sea, bound on a cruise to the westward. The next two months passed away in the most drearily uneventful manner, the ship being at sea the whole time. At the end of that period, being in latitude 4 degrees south and longitude 5 degrees east on our way back to the Congo, the ship standing to the northward and eastward at the time, under all plain sail, with light baffling south-easterly airs, the look-out aloft, just before being relieved at noon, reported two sail, close together, hove-to broad on our lee bow. The usual form of questions being duly put by Armitage, who happened to be the officer of the watch, the further information was elicited that one of them was a brig and the other a full-rigged ship, but of what nationality they were it was difficult to say, nothing but the heads of their topgallant-sails being visible above the horizon from our fore-topmast crosstrees. The matter being reported to Captain Vernon, orders were given for our course to be so altered as to allow of our edging down upon the strangers; the fact of their being hove-to so close together having a somewhat suspicious appearance. By three o'clock p.m. we had neared the two vessels sufficiently to bring their hulls into view from the main-royal-yard; they were then lying broadside-on to us with their heads to the eastward, the ship being between us and the brig; but by the aid of our glasses we were able to make out that they had apparently dropped alongside each other, and the skipper gave it as his decided opinion that foul play was going on on the part of one or the other of the two craft. This opinion was shortly afterwards confirmed by the appearance of thick clouds of black smoke arising from the ship; the brig hauling off and standing to the westward under every stitch of canvas she could spread. "Undoubtedly a most daring act of piracy, committed under our _very_ noses, too," commented the skipper to me as the smoke rose up into the clear atmosphere and hung like a great pall immediately over the doomed ship. We were walking together fore and aft upon the quarter-deck at the time, whistling most earnestly and devoutly for a wind, as indeed were all hands fore and aft. Suddenly Captain Vernon paused, and, wetting the back of his hand, held it up to the air. "The wind is failing us," he remarked, and abruptly dived below to his cabin. At the same moment I noticed that the corvette was heading three or four points to the eastward of her course. "Hard up with your helm, man," I exclaimed impatiently to the man at the wheel. "Where are you taking the ship?" "The wheel _is_ hard over, sir," explained the poor fellow with patient deference; "but she's lost steerage-way." Just then the skipper returned to the deck. "Pipe away the first and second cutters, Mr Hawkesley," he exclaimed sharply. "Take charge of them yourself with one of the midshipmen to help you, and pull down to the burning ship. As likely as not you will find that a similar trick has been played there to the one by which that unfortunate man Richards and his crew so nearly lost their lives. Let the crews of the boats take their cutlasses and pistols with them, so as to be prepared in the event of interference from the brig's crew, and make all the haste you can. Your first duty is to save the crew; your next to save the ship if possible. The glass is rising, so there will be no wind; but I shall do what I can to shorten the distance between us and the brig yonder. When you have done all that is possible on board the ship, make a dash for the brig, unless you see the recall signal flying." Three minutes later the two cutters were darting swiftly away over the long glassy undulations of the ground-swell toward the great cloud of smoke on the horizon which served as a beacon for us; the men pulling a long steady stroke, which, whilst it sent the boats through the water at a very fair pace, could be maintained for three or four hours at least. We were scarcely a mile away from the _Daphne_ when she had the rest of her boats in the water and ahead of her towing, whilst, dangling from the yard-arms aloft, could be seen hammocks and bags of shot suspended there to assist--by the swinging motion imparted to them by the rise and fall of the vessel over the swell--the ship's progress through the water. The brig was hull-down to us; but from the steadiness with which her head was kept pointing to the westward I conjectured that she was either sweeping or being towed by her boats. The sun set in a perfectly clear and cloudless sky, just as we had brought the ship hull-up; but by that time she was a mass of flame fore and aft, and I began to fear that we should be too late to save her crew or to do any good whatever on board her. We kept steadily on, however, and reached her half an hour later. The three masts went over the side when we were within a cable's length of the burning ship, and on arriving within fifty feet of her we found it impossible to approach any nearer, owing to the intense heat. It was manifestly impossible that any living thing could be in the midst of that fiercely flaming furnace, so we were compelled to content ourselves with merely ascertaining the name of the unfortunate craft, which with considerable difficulty we at length made out to be the _Highland Chieftain_ of Glasgow--after which we left her. On pulling out clear of the smoke and glare of the flames once more we found ourselves to be about six miles distant from the brig, a distance of about eleven miles intervening between us and the _Daphne_. Night had by this time closed completely down upon us; the deep clear violet sky above us was thickly powdered with stars, which were waveringly reflected in the deep indigo of the water beneath, and away to the eastward the broad disc of the full moon was just rising clear of the horizon and casting a long rippling wake of golden light from the ocean's rim clear down to us. Our first glance was of course in the direction of the _Daphne_. Her towering spread of canvas alternately appeared and vanished as the enormous idly flapping sails caught and lost again, with the heave of the vessel, the glint of the golden moon-beams; but, save this, all was dark and still on board her; no lanterns flashed in her rigging as a recall signal, so I exultingly gave the order for the boats to be headed straight for the brig, determined to win her if dash and courage could do it. "Pull steadily, lads," I cautioned, as the two crews bent their backs, and with a ringing cheer started the boats in racing style; "no racing now, we cannot afford the strength for it, all you have will be wanted when we get alongside the chase; she is doubtless well manned with a determined crew who will not give in without a tough struggle, so husband your strength as much as possible. Mr Peters," to the midshipman in charge of the second cutter, "drop in my wake, sir, if you please, and see that your men do not overtask themselves." The men obediently eased down at once, and we jogged steadily along at a pace of about four knots an hour; but their eagerness soon got the better of them, the pace gradually increased, and I had to constantly check them, or we should soon have been tearing away as fiercely as ever. This state of things lasted for about half an hour, and then the gleam of lanterns suddenly appeared in the _Daphne's_ rigging. It was the recall signal, and the men gave audible vent to their feeling of disappointment in an involuntary groan. "Never mind, men," I said; "I have no doubt Captain Vernon has some good reason for it. Answer the signal, coxswain. Ah! I told you so; the sloop has a little breeze, and here it comes creeping up astern of us. Step the mast, take the covers off the sails, and get the canvas on the boats. Do you see that bright red star close to the horizon, coxswain? Starboard a bit. So, steady, now you have it fair over the boat's stem. Steer for it, and we shall just drop alongside the loop nicely, without troubling her to wait for us." The breeze soon reached us, toying coyly with the boat's canvas at first, but gradually bellying out the sails until at last they "went to sleep." The breeze was, after all, merely the gentlest of zephyrs, only just sufficient to give a ship steerage-way; but, very fortunately for us, the boats were provided, by a whim of poor Austin's, with a suit each of enormous lateen sails made of light duck, with yards of such a length that they had to be jointed in the middle to enable them to be stowed in the boats; they were just the thing for light airs, and under their persuasive influence we were soon gliding smoothly through the scarcely ruffled water quite as fast as the men could have propelled us with the oars. An hour later we slid handsomely up alongside the sloop, which by this time was slipping along at the rate of about five knots under studding-sails and everything else that would hold a breath of wind, and the boats were hoisted in without any interruption to the ship's progress. "Well, Mr Hawkesley, what news from the burning ship?" exclaimed the skipper as I stepped up to him to make my report. I explained to him the state in which we had found the vessel when we reached her, and gave him her name. "Ah!" he remarked. "Well, it is a bad job, a very bad business altogether. I can only hope we may find the crew uninjured on board the brig when we catch her; but I think it is rather doubtful. Now run away down into my cabin and tell Baines to give you some dinner. I expect everything will be cleared away in the ward-room by this." On descending to the cabin I found that the skipper had been considerate enough to give orders that a nice little dinner should be ready for me on my return, and those orders having been carried out to the letter I was enabled to sit down in peace and enjoy the meal for which the long pull in the boats had given me a most voracious appetite. The meal over, it being then my watch below, I turned in. On relieving Mr Armitage at midnight I found that the weather was still fine, the wind the merest shade fresher than it had been when I left the deck, and the chase directly ahead, about twelve miles distant, her upper canvas showing distinctly in the brilliant rays of the moon. We had gained upon her about a couple of miles during the four hours I had been below, and Captain Vernon--who had been on deck during the whole of the previous watch, and was just about to retire for the night--was in high spirits, and confident in his belief that, if all went well, we should make the capture before sunset on the following day. The best helmsman in my watch was ordered to the wheel. I made a regular tour of the decks, taking an extra pull at a halliard here, easing off an inch or so of this brace or that sheet, and, in short, doing everything possible to increase the speed of the ship, and so my watch passed away; the _Daphne_ having crept another couple of miles nearer to the chase during the interval. Thus matters went on until noon of the following day, when the wind once more showed symptoms of failing, whilst the sky became overcast, threatening a change of weather. We had by this time shortened the distance between ourselves and the chase until a space of only some seven miles or so separated us, and everybody on board, fore and aft, was in a fever of impatience to get alongside the brig, which our glasses had already assured us was none other than the notorious _Black Venus_. She had already proved herself so slippery a customer that an almost superstitious feeling had sprung up in our breasts with regard to her; we felt that however closely we might succeed in approaching her, however helplessly she might seem to be in our power, there could be no dependence whatever upon appearances, and that until we had absolutely succeeded in placing a prize crew upon her decks, and her own crew in irons, we could not feel by any means certain that she was ours. Hence the extraordinary feeling of excitement and impatience which prevailed on board the _Daphne_ on that memorable afternoon. About two o'clock the wind changed, and we were obliged to take in the studding-sail on the port side and get a pull upon the port braces. Meanwhile a heavy bank of clouds had gathered in the south-western quarter, and was gradually working up against the wind, until by three o'clock p.m. the sun was obscured and the entire heavens blotted out by the huge murky mass of seething vapour. It was my watch below, but, like everybody else, I was much too excited to remain anywhere but on deck, and, to confess the truth, I did not half like the appearance of things in general. According to my notions we were about to experience one of those sudden and violent atmospheric changes which are so frequently met with in the tropics; yet there was the ship with a whole cloud of studding-sails set on the starboard side, as well as every other rag of canvas that could be coaxed to do an ounce of work. "If," thought I, "my knowledge of weather is worth anything, all hands of us will be pretty busy before long, and we shall be lucky indeed if we do not lose some of our spars, as well as an acre or two of those flying- kites up aloft there." I even forgot myself so far as to gently insinuate such a possibility to Mr Armitage, but I was so sharply snubbed for my pains that I determined to interfere no further whilst off duty, but to keep my eyes open and be ready to lend a hand whenever and wherever required. Captain Vernon was of course on deck, and from the anxious way in which he from time to time glanced, first at the portentous sky overhead, next at the chase, and finally at our immense spread of canvas, I felt sure that he, to some extent, shared my apprehensions. At length, after a more than usually anxious glance round, he went to the skylight and took a peep apparently at the barometer. I was watching him, and I saw him start and take another keen look at it. Then he suddenly dived down the companion-way into the cabin to make a closer inspection of it, as I conjectured. My curiosity was aroused, and I was walking aft to take a look at the instrument through the skylight on my own account, when the canvas suddenly flapped, and the next second, without further warning of any description, a perfect tornado burst upon us. The ship was taken flat aback, and over she went, bowing helplessly before the irresistible strength of the hurricane. I thought I heard Armitage's voice shouting an order of some kind, but if such was the case it was impossible to distinguish the words through the deafening rush of the wind, which completely swallowed up all other sounds. As I felt the deck rapidly heeling under my feet I made a desperate scrambling spring for the nearest port on the weather side; for I somehow seemed to realise instinctively that the _Daphne's_ brief career was ended--that she would never again recover herself, but would "turn the turtle" altogether. The ominous words of the riggers on that day when, in the first flush of my new-born dignity, I went down to inspect the craft which was to be my future home, recurred to my mind as vividly as though they had that moment been spoken, and I felt that the prophecy lurking behind them was then in the very act of fulfilment. I was fortunate enough to reach and grasp one of the gun-tackles, and drawing myself up to windward by its aid, I passed out through the open port on to the upturned weather side of the ship, where I paused for a moment to glance behind, or rather beneath me. I shall never forget the sight which then met my gaze. The ship was lying over on her beam-ends with her lower yard-arms deeply buried in the sea. The whole of the lee side of the deck was submerged; the water was pouring in tons down the open hatchways, the lee coamings of which were already under water, and the watch below could be seen ineffectually endeavouring to make their way up on deck through these openings, the rush of water down which irresistibly drove them back again at each attempt. As for the watch on deck they were already either swimming about in the sea to leeward or clinging convulsively to the rigging, whither a few had instinctively betaken themselves when the ship first went over. But I had time only for a momentary glance; the sloop had hung stationary in this position for just the barest perceptible space of time; then with a sudden jar she began to settle once more, and I had time only to scramble breathlessly along her wet and slippery sides and on to her bilge when she rolled fairly over and floated keel upwards. And as she did so, a hideous shriek rang out from her interior and became audible even above the awful rush of the gale. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. AN ABDUCTION AND AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE. For a few moments I felt bewildered--stunned--by the awful suddenness of this frightful catastrophe; the piercing shrieks of despair, too, which continued to issue from the interior of the vessel, unmanned me, and I crouched there upon the upturned bottom of the fabric like one in a dream. I felt that it _was_ a dream; the disaster was too complete and too unexpected to be real, and I waited there, frozen with horror, anxiously looking for the moment when I should awake and be released from the dreadful nightmare. But the sight of some half-a-dozen men battling for their lives in the water to leeward of the hull, and vainly struggling to reach the main- topgallant-mast--which had gone at the first stroke of the hurricane, and having somehow broken adrift from the topmast-head, now lay floating, with all attached, a few yards away--brought my senses back to me, and abandoning my precarious refuge I sprang into the sea and assisted the men, one after the other, to reach the floating spars. As I looked round me, in the vain hope of discovering further survivors, a few more spars floated up to the surface--a spare topmast, a studding- sail boom or two, the fore-topgallant-mast, with royal-mast, yards, and sails attached; and finally a hen-coop with seven or eight drowned fowls in it. All these I at once took measures to secure, knowing that our only hope of ultimate escape--and a very frail and slender hope it then appeared--rested upon the possibility of our being able to construct a raft with them. In this attempt we were fortunately successful, and sunset found us established on a small but fairly substantial and well- constructed raft. We mustered seven hands all told, six seamen and myself--_seven only out of our entire crew_! And so far we were safe. But as I looked, first at the frail structure which supported us, and then at the boundless waste of angry sea by which we were environed, and upon which we were helplessly tossed to and fro, I thought in my haste that it would have been better after all if we had shared the fate of our comrades, now at rest in their ocean grave and beyond the reach of those sufferings which seemed only too surely to await us. Then better thoughts came to me. I reflected that whilst there was life there was hope, and that the Hand which had been outstretched to preserve us whilst others had been allowed to perish, was also able to save us to the uttermost, if such should be the Divine Will. And was it not our duty to submit to that Will, to endure patiently whatever might be in store for us? Assuredly it was; and I humbly bowed my head in silent thanksgiving and prayer--thanksgiving for my preservation so far, and prayer that I might be given strength and patience to endure whatever privation or sufferings might come to me in the future. Whilst constructing the raft we had been too busy to note more than the bare fact that we were being gradually but perceptibly swept away from the capsized hull of the unfortunate _Daphne_; but when our work was at length completed and we had a moment to look around us, our first glances were directed to windward in search of the wreck She was nowhere to be seen, and we had no doubt that, whilst we had been so busily employed, the wreck had gradually settled deeper and deeper into the water until she had gone down altogether. Most fortunately--or most providentially I ought rather to say--for us, the tornado had been as brief in its duration as it had been disastrous in its effects, otherwise we could never have hoped to survive. In little more than ten minutes from the capsizing of the sloop the strength of the hurricane was spent, and the wind dropped to a fresh working breeze. Of this circumstance the _Black Venus_ promptly availed herself--her crew having undoubtedly observed the disaster--by bearing up and standing to the eastward under every inch of canvas she could spread. Our first impression on witnessing this manoeuvre was that, animated by some lingering spark of humanity in their breasts, her people were returning in quest of possible survivors; but this hope was speedily extinguished by the sight of the brig sweeping to leeward and passing us at a distance of about half a mile, with her crew busily engaged in the operation of crowding sail upon their vessel. We stood up and waved to her as she passed, and I have no doubt whatever that we _were_ seen; but no notice was taken of us, and she soon swept out of sight to leeward. I hardly expected any other result, and was consequently by no means discouraged at this fresh instance of inhumanity; indeed, had they taken it into their heads to rescue us, it is probable that our lot among them would have been little if any better than it was out there on the open ocean, drifting about upon our tiny raft. When night fell we had had sufficient time to fully realise the peril and hopelessness of our position; and I think most of us fully made up our minds that we were destined to a lingering death from starvation, unless, indeed, the end should happen to be precipitated by the springing up of another gale or some equally fell disaster. But our gloomy anticipations were destined to be speedily and pleasantly dissipated, for at dawn on the following morning we were agreeably surprised by the sight of a sail in the northern quarter--the craft evidently heading directly for us. The wind was blowing from the westward at the time, a five-knot breeze; the weather was clear and the sea had gone down, leaving nothing but the swell from the blow of the preceding day. We accordingly set to work and unhesitatingly cut adrift one of the smaller spars of which our raft was constructed, and, hastily securing the crazy fabric afresh, reared the spar on end, with my shirt--the only white one among us--lashed to its upper extremity as a signal. The hour which followed was one of most agonising suspense. Would she or would she not alter her course before observing our signal? The helmsman was not steering quite as steadily as he might have done, and our hearts went into our mouths and a cry of anguish involuntarily escaped our lips every time the stranger showed a tendency to luff to windward or fall off to leeward of her course. At length, however, our apprehensions were set at rest; for just as her hull was rising above our limited horizon we saw a sudden flash from her side, followed by a puff of white smoke, and a few seconds later the sharp ringing report of a gun came wafted down to us. Then her topgallant-sails and royals fluttered a moment in the cool morning breeze as they were rapidly sheeted-home and mast-headed; and half an hour later the _Virginia_-- yes, there could be no doubt about it, it was our latest prize; and there, abaft the main rigging, stood the well-known figure of Smellie himself--the _Virginia_ hove-to close to windward of us, a boat was lowered, and we soon found ourselves standing safe and sound on the brig's deck, the cynosure of all eyes and the somewhat bewildered recipients of our former comrades' eager questions. As for Smellie, with the considerate kindness which was always one of his most prominent characteristics, he first gave orders that the half- a-dozen hands rescued with me should receive every attention, and then carried me off to his own cabin and rigged me in a jury suit of his own clothes--which, by the way, were several sizes too big for me--whilst my own togs were drying; and then, giving orders for breakfast to be served in the cabin at the earliest possible moment, he sat down and listened to my story. His distress at the loss of so many friends was keen and sincere, but it did not for a moment obscure his sound common sense. A few minutes sufficed me to give him a hasty outline of the disaster and to make him acquainted with the direction of our drift during the night; the which he had no sooner ascertained than he altered the brig's course as much as was necessary to take her over the scene of the catastrophe, at the same time sending three hands aloft to keep a sharp look-out for wreckage or any other indications that we were nearing the spot, and especially for possible survivors. Half an hour later we passed a grating, then a spare studding-sail boom, then a couple of hen-coops close together; after which fragments of wreckage became increasingly frequent until we reached a spot where one of the _Daphne's_ boats was found floating with her stern torn out of her; several hatch-covers, the mizen topgallant-mast and sail, three dead sheep, a wash-deck tub, and other relics being in company; after which the wreckage suddenly ceased. We had evidently passed over the spot where the _Daphne_ had gone down. And the brig was immediately hove-to and all the boats despatched upon a search expedition--unhappily a vain one, for not a sign of another survivor could be found, nor even a dead body to which we could give decent and Christian burial. This melancholy fact at length indubitably established, Smellie gave the order to make sail, shaping a course for the Congo, whither we felt sure the _Black Venus_ had made the best of her way. Crowding sail upon the _Virginia_ we made the passage to the river's mouth in a trifle over five days, during the last three of which the wind was light and variable with us, anchoring in Banana Creek at two p.m. on the fifth day from that on which we had been picked up. The _Virginia_ having succeeded in completing her complement of officers and men at Sierra Leone, the half-dozen picked up with me had been acting as supernumeraries on board, whilst I had simply been Smellie's guest. I was very much gratified, therefore, when he invited me to go with him in the boat on a search expedition to ascertain, if possible, the whereabouts of the redoubtable _Black Venus_. We started in the gig that same afternoon as soon as the ship was moored, Smellie being of opinion that we should find the object of our quest snugly moored within the creek below Don Manuel's house, where we had seen her on the eventful evening when we captured the _Josefa_; and this creek being situate at some distance up the river, it was necessary that we should make an early start in order to be back on board before the rising of the evening mists. We reached the creek in due course without adventure, and began cautiously to ascend it. Mile after mile we made our way, landing at the extremity of every reach and carefully reconnoitring the succeeding one before entering it with the boat; but our search was in vain--we arrived at the head of the creek without finding a single trace of the brig, or indeed of any other vessel. Being there, it was only natural that Smellie and I should feel a strong desire to see once more the kind host and gentle hostess who had so generously nursed and entertained us in the time of our sore need. Leaving the boat at the head of the creek, therefore, in charge of the coxswain, with instructions to the latter to fire a couple of muskets in rapid succession should our presence be required, or, in the event of that being inadvisable, to make the best of his way along the footpath and up to the house, we set out--the bright flush on Smellie's bronzed cheek, the joyous sparkle in his eyes, and the eager spring in his elastic footstep betraying plainly enough the pleasurable anticipations which occupied his mind. Traversing the path with rapid footsteps we soon reached the palisading which inclosed the garden, passed through the gate, and found ourselves in sight of the house. There it stood just as we had last seen it, door and windows wide open, the muslin curtains at the windows waving idly in the fitful breeze, and the bamboo lounging-chairs--one of them overturned--under the verandah. We stepped briskly out, warm work though we had found it breasting the hill, and passed up the main avenue leading to the front door--Smellie keeping his eyes intently fixed upon the said front door, doubtless in the hope of seeing Dona Antonia emerge, and of enjoying her first glance of surprise and delight. I of course had no such inducement to look straight ahead, and my glances therefore wandered carelessly here and there to the right and left, noting the exquisite shapes and colours of the flowers and fruit and the luxuriant foliage and delightful shade of the trees. Whilst thus engaged my wandering thoughts were suddenly arrested by the appearance of several large and heavy footprints in the sandy soil of the footpath; and whilst I was still idly wondering what visitors Don Manuel could have so recently had and from whence they could possibly have come, my eye lighted upon a single drop of blood; then another, then quite a little line of blood-drops. They were, however, only such as would result from a trifling cut or scratch; so I said nothing about it. A little further on, up the pathway, a tall thorny shrub thrust its branches somewhat obtrusively over the border of the path; and one of the twigs--a good stout one--was broken and hung to its parent branch by a scrap of bark only. Curiosity prompted me to pause for a moment to examine the twig; and I then saw that one of the thorns was similarly broken, its point being stained with blood still scarcely dry. This solved the riddle. Someone passing hastily had evidently been caught by the thorn and rather severely scratched. A few paces further on a shred of white muslin hung from another bush; and I began to fear that Dona Antonia had been the sufferer. Beaching the house we walked unceremoniously in, delighted at the idea of the surprise we should give our friends. Proceeding to the parlour, or usual sitting-room, we found it empty, with, to our great surprise, the table and one or two chairs capsized, a torn scarf lying on the floor, and other evidences of a struggle of some sort. The sight brought us abruptly to a stand-still on the threshold--Smellie and I looking at each other inquiringly, as though each would ask the other what could be the meaning of it all. Then with a quick stride my companion passed in before me, glanced round the room, and uttered a low exclamation of horror. I at once followed, glanced in the direction indicated by Smellie's outstretched finger, and there, behind the door, lay the body of poor Pedro, face downwards on the floor, a little pool of coagulating blood being just visible on the matting beneath his forehead. Quickly stooping we turned him over on his back. He was quite dead, though not yet cold, the cause of death being clearly indicated by a small bullet-wound fair in the centre of his forehead. My thoughts flew back in an instant to the night on which we last stood under that same roof, to the attempted abduction of Dona Antonia; and the conviction at once seized upon me that we were now looking upon another piece of Senor Madera's work. The same thought evidently struck Smellie, for he turned to me and exclaimed breathlessly: "Dona Antonia!--where can she be?" And without waiting for an answer he dashed into the passage and began calling loudly: "Antonia! Antonia mia! where are you, darling! It is I--Harold." Then, receiving no answer, he shouted alternately for Don Manuel and old Madre Dolores. This time he was more successful, for as he paused for breath we heard a voice far down the garden-path replying in Spanish, "Hola! Hola! Who calls for me so loudly?" And looking in that direction we saw Don Manuel sauntering up the path with his gun thrown carelessly over his shoulder and a well-filled bag of "specimens" by his side. We hastened out to meet him, and received a right joyous and hearty greeting, to which we hastily responded; and then poor Smellie in his anxiety blurted out: "And where is Dona Antonia?" "Is she not in the house?" asked Don Manuel. "I cannot find her anywhere," replied Smellie, "and I greatly fear--" then his natural caution returned to him and he checked himself. "By the way," he continued, "have you seen anything of your friend Senor Madera lately." "No," answered Don Manuel, "he has never had the assurance to appear here since the night on which he made his audacious attempt to abduct my daughter; but I noticed just now that his ship is in the creek below there, so I hastened home, deeming it only prudent to be on the spot whilst he favours us with his unwelcome proximity." "His ship in the creek!" exclaimed Smellie incredulously. "Then she must have arrived within the last half-hour, for it is barely that since we passed from the mouth to the head of the creek, and no ship was in it then." A little cross-questioning, however, elicited the fact that there were _two_ creeks near Don Manuel's house; we had explored the western creek, and it was the other which at that moment sheltered Senor Madera's ship. Smellie then, with infinite tact and patience, gradually broke to the poor old gentleman the news of the tragedy which had been enacted in the house during its owner's brief absence, together with our fears as to the fate which had befallen Dona Antonia. The poor old fellow was at first most frightfully agitated, as of course might reasonably have been expected; indeed in the first paroxysm of his grief and rage I almost feared he would lose his senses altogether. But Smellie's gentle firmness and sound reasoning soon brought him to a calmer frame of mind, and then we instituted a thorough but fruitless search of the house. I then thought it time to mention the various little signs I had observed on the garden-path; and we forthwith directed our steps to the several spots, carefully examining the ground foot by foot, with the result that we were soon enabled to arrive at something like a definite conclusion. Our examination showed that at least half a dozen men had visited the house probably not more than half an hour before our arrival; that there had been a struggle, in which the unfortunate Pedro had lost his life; and that Dona Antonia, and also in all probability poor old Madre Dolores, who could nowhere be found, had been forcibly carried off. Having come to this conclusion, we next patiently tracked the footprints, which led us through the wood down to the head of the creek referred to by Don Manuel, on the muddy banks of which we distinctly traced not only the heavy footprints of the abductors, but also the lighter ones of, presumably, Dona Antonia and her nurse, as well as the mark of the boat's keel where she had been grounded. This much determined, Don Manuel next led us to a spot from which he assured us that Senor Madera's vessel could be seen; and there, sure enough, we saw our old foe the _Black Venus_ snugly moored in the creek. A council of war was at once held as to what should be our next proceeding. It was manifestly impossible to attack the brig there and then; our little force was wholly inadequate to the capture of the vessel, and any attempt to do so would only have resulted in putting her crew upon their guard. Don Manuel informed us that, from his knowledge of the creek, he was certain there would not be a sufficient depth of water over the sand-bar at its mouth to allow of the brig sailing before high-water, which would be at about half-past six o'clock that evening; but we were unanimously of opinion that, having secured his prey, Senor Madera _would_ sail then. As to what might happen in the interim, it would not bear thinking of, and we could only hope and pray for the best. Having by this time obtained all the light which it was possible to gain on the matter, we prepared to return to the _Virginia_, Don Manuel eagerly accepting Smellie's invitation to accompany us. But before doing this, there lay before us the melancholy task of burying poor Pedro's body, and with the aid of half a dozen men from the gig this was accomplished as speedily as possible, after which the house was shut up, and we hastened down to the boat and made the best of our way back to our ship. Poor Smellie behaved most admirably under the very trying circumstances. That he was fearfully agitated and anxious, I, who knew him so well, could easily see; but with a determination and firmness of will which I heartily envied he resolutely put aside all other considerations and devoted all his energies to the solution of the problem of what it would be best to do. We were a silent and thoughtful party as we wended our way back to the ship; but once there, the skipper promptly led the way to his cabin and informed Don Manuel and me that he had decided upon a plan of action. It was exceedingly simple. He was, he said, more firmly convinced than ever that the _Black Venus_ would sail that night. The weather was clear and fine, the barometer high; and we might therefore reckon with certainty upon the springing up of the land-breeze shortly after sunset. This breeze would be a fair wind _out_ of the river; but so long as it lasted no ship could re-enter against it and the strong current. Smellie's plan, therefore, was simply to go outside as soon as the evening mists gathered sufficiently to conceal our movements, and there await the _Black Venus_, trusting to the speed of the _Virginia_ and our own manoeuvring to enable us to get promptly alongside her. The plan looked very promising, and it was adopted. The messenger was at once passed, and the ship hove short; after which we awaited with such patience as we could muster for the gathering of the mist. At length, about seven p.m., the anchor was tripped, and the _Virginia_ glided gracefully out of the creek to seaward, under topsails, jib, and boom mainsail. We knew almost to a hair's-breadth the course which the _Black Venus_ must steer for the first seven or eight miles after clearing Shark Point, and Smellie placed us right across this track, jamming the vessel close upon a wind and wearing short round every twenty minutes; by which plan we were never more than ten minutes sail from the line over which we expected the enemy to pass. A careful calculation, based upon our knowledge of the _Black Venus's_ extraordinary sailing powers, showed that we might look for her about half-past nine o'clock; and half an hour previous to that we began to make our preparations for according to her a suitable reception. The decks were cleared for action, the magazine was opened, arms and ammunition were served out to the crew, who were then sent to quarters; the guns were loaded each with a round-shot and a charge of grape on the top of it, and all the canvas was loosed and made ready for setting at a moment's notice. Then all the sharpest eyes available in the ship were set upon the watch for our slippery foe, and we were ready. The night-mists to which frequent reference has been made are, it ought to be explained, confined to the river itself; and though on such occasions as that of which we are now treating they are carried out to seaward by the land-breeze a few miles beyond the river's mouth, they soon get dissipated; so that whilst in the river itself the fog may be so thick as to render it impossible to see further than half the ship's length ahead, it will be perfectly clear at a distance of seven or eight miles outside. It was just upon the outer or seaward skirts of the fog- bank that we had taken up our station and were hovering to and fro. The _Virginia_ had just gone round, and was stretching to the southward upon the port tack, when, from my station on the heel of the bowsprit, I thought I detected a sudden thickening of the haze at a spot about three points on the weather-bow. Straining my eyes to their utmost I gazed intently into the darkness; the appearance became more pronounced, more defined every second, and as I watched it assumed the form of an irregularly-shaped truncated pyramid. "Sail ho! broad on the weather-bow!" I exclaimed joyously; and in a moment half a dozen voices exultingly reiterated the cry of "Sail ho!" Yes, there could be no mistake about it; for whilst the words were still upon our lips the apparition grew more substantial, assumed the misty outline of a ship in full sail, and finally shot out from among the fog- wreaths clear and well-defined--a brig running before the wind under studding-sails. I hastened aft to where Smellie stood grasping the maintopmast backstay, and was greeted by him with the characteristic remark of: "What a fellow he must be, and what nerve he must have! Fancy a man running out of that river and through the fog under studding-sails." Then, turning to the helmsman, he said: "_Now_ we have him fairly, I think. Up with your helm, my man, and steer for his jib-boom end. Mr Costigan,"--to the first lieutenant--"make sail, if you please." "Oi, oi, sorr," answered that worthy in a rich Hibernian brogue. "Let go and overhaul the fore and main clewgarnets; board the fore and main tacks and aft wid the sheets. Fore and main topmast-staysail and jib halliards, hoist away. Sheet home and set the fore and main-topgallant- sails, and be smart about it. Aisy now, there, wid that main tack; don't ye see, you spalpeens, that the ship is bearin' up. Man the braces, fore and aft; ease up to leeward and round in to windward as the ship pays off. Well of all, belay, and coil up. Misther Hawkesley, am I to have the pleasure of showin' ye the way on board the hooker yonder?" "Thanks, no, I think not, Costigan," I answered with a laugh. "I propose to lend my valuable aid to the alter division of the boarders; you are a host in yourself, you know, and can manage very well without me. But I shall keep a look-out for you in the waist of the brig." "Very well, it's there I'll mate ye, young gintleman, or my name's not Denis Costigan." And away hurried the impetuous Irishman to place himself at the head of the forward division of boarders. The brig had sighted us almost as quickly as we had her, and she made one or two attempts to dodge us. But it was of no use, she had run into our arms, as it were; we were much too close together when the vessels became visible to each other to render anything like dodging at all possible; moreover Smellie, standing there on the breach of one of the guns, watched the chase with so unwavering an eye and met any deviation on her part so promptly with a corresponding swerve on the part of the _Virginia_, that Senor Madera soon scornfully gave up the attempt, and held steadily forward upon his course. The sister brigs, for such they eventually proved to be, now running on almost parallel courses, soon narrowed the space between them to a bare hundred feet, the _Virginia_, however, having been so carefully steered as to give her a slight lead. This seemed to be the moment for which Senor Madera had waited, for he now suddenly threw open his ports, and without attempting the mockery of hoisting an ensign of any kind, poured into us the whole contents of his double-shotted starboard broadside, aiming high, however, with the evident hope of knocking away some of our more important spars. Our lower canvas was immediately riddled and a few unimportant ropes were cut; but beyond this we fortunately sustained no damage. By way of reply to this, Smellie, without removing his eyes from the chase, waved his hand gently to the helmsman; the wheel was put a half a dozen spokes or so over to port, and the _Virginia_ slewed slightly more toward her antagonist. "Now, steady men," cautioned the skipper. "Do not fire until I give the word, then pour your broadside in upon her decks--not a shot below the sheer-strake for your lives." I well knew of whom he was thinking when he said this; Antonia was doubtless in the cabin, and it was her safety for which he was thus careful. "And as soon as you have fired your broadside," he continued, "draw your cutlasses and stand by to board. Are the grappling-irons all ready?" "All ready, sir," came the reply from the tars who were standing by to throw them, and then there ensued a few breathless moments of intense silence. Gradually the two brigs neared each other, until the lap and swirl of the water along our antagonists' sides could be distinctly heard. At that moment a rattling volley of small-arms was discharged from the _Black Venus_, and I saw Smellie start and reel on his elevated perch. The next instant, however, he had recovered himself, and once more waving to the helmsman, he gave the word: "_Fire_!" Prompt at the command, our broadside rattled out, and amid the crashing of timber and the shrieks of the wounded I felt the jar of collision between the two vessels. "Heave!" shouted Smellie. "Boarders away!" And with a simultaneous spring fore and aft, away we went over the bulwarks and down on to the crowded decks of the _Black Venus_. The fight was short but stubborn. Our antagonists fought with the desperate bravery of men who already felt the halters settling round their necks; but whoever heard of British tars yielding an enemy's deck when once their feet were firmly planted upon it? Besides, almost every individual man among us felt that we had a long score of disappointments and floutings to wipe out, and steadily but irresistibly we drove the pirates into the waist of their ship, where, huddled closely together, it was impossible for them to use their arms effectively. Finally, Smellie and Madera, after several unsuccessful efforts to get at each other, managed to cross swords, and after a few rapid passes the latter fell, run through the body by the skipper. In the very act of falling, however, he whipped a pistol from his belt and aiming point blank at the skipper, fired, the ball passing through Smellie's lungs. The poor fellow turned blindly, and with the blood spurting from his mouth reeled into my arms. I knew very little of the fight after this, for summoning a couple of men I at once proceeded to remove the skipper on board his own vessel; but before we had got him fairly down on deck a cheer from our lads told us that victory had once more declared herself on our side, and that the redoubtable _Black Venus_ was ours. Getting Smellie below and into his cot with all speed, I waited until the arrival of the surgeon upon the scene, when, handing the patient over to his tender mercies, I hastened back on board the prize, and went straight below into her cabin. It was a magnificently furnished apartment, and fitted with every luxury, even to a guitar. But it was empty. Could it be possible that we had been deceived, after all, as to the circumstances of Dona Antonia's abduction? Perhaps she was concealed somewhere. I shouted: "Dona Antonia! Dona Antonia! are you here? Fear not; it is I--Dick Hawkesley. We have captured this vessel; Madera is wounded, if not slain outright; your father is at hand, and you are free." "Who calls?" I heard a voice--Madre Dolores'--exclaim from an adjacent berth, the door of which was closed. "Who calls?" "I--Dick Hawkesley," I replied. "Don't you recognise my voice, Madre?" "Ay, to be sure I do--_rum_" was the reply. A sound of the withdrawal of bolts followed; the door cautiously opened, and the Madre, with her eyes gleaming and a cocked pistol pointed straight in my direction, protruded her head through the opening. One look was sufficient. With a wild cry of delight she dashed the pistol to the floor, exploding it in the act, and sending the ball within a hair's-breadth of my starboard ankle, and rushing forward flung her arms convulsively about my neck, pouring out a torrent of Spanish endearments between the kisses which the poor old soul liberally bestowed upon me. I submitted with a good grace for a moment, and then gently but firmly withdrew myself from her embraces, to meet the glance of Dona Antonia, who stood in the doorway of the state-room, looking on with a curiously mingled expression of fear, doubt, and amusement. A few words sufficed to fully explain to her the state of affairs, and then hastily enveloping her and old Dolores in the first wraps that came to hand, I conveyed them with all speed on board the _Virginia_ and presented them to Don Manuel. My story is now ended, or nearly so; my adventures on the Congo and the west coast terminating with the capture of the _Black Venus_; a few additional words, therefore, will suffice to fittingly dismiss the principal personages who have figured in this history, and to bring the history itself to a symmetrical conclusion. We returned with our prize to Banana Creek, on the morning following the action, and there remained for a couple of days to bury the dead, and to refit. Don Manuel embraced this opportunity to make a flying visit to his house, from which he returned after an absence of a few hours only, bringing with him a small but solidly constructed and extremely heavy oak chest, which he explained to me in confidence contained his daughter's dowry, and which eventually proved to be the receptacle of a goodly store of Spanish dollars. From Banana Creek the two brigs proceeded in company to Sierra Leone, where the _Black Venus_ was soon afterwards adjudicated upon and condemned as a pirate, my evidence and that of the other six survivors from the _Daphne_ being accepted as conclusive of the fact that she had been guilty of at least _one_ act of piracy; namely, in the case of the _Highland Chieftain_. Her crew were committed to prison upon heavy sentences, meted out in proportion to the comparative guilt of the parties; but additional evidence shortly afterwards cropping up--that of poor Richards of the _Juliet_ amongst it--additional charges were preferred against them; and Madera, who proved to be the half-brother of the fictitious Monsieur Le Breton, late of the _Virginia_, with his officers and several of his men, suffered the penalty of death by hanging. Smellie's wound proving unexpectedly troublesome, he was ordered home that he might have the benefit of a more temperate climate to assist his recovery, and he accordingly took passage for London in a tidy little barque, the _Lilian_, Don Manuel and his daughter, with old Dolores, all of whom had gone on to Sierra Leone with us, also engaging berths in the same vessel. The survivors from the _Daphne_ being also ordered home to stand their trial for the loss of that vessel, I thought I could not do better than secure one of the remaining berths in the _Lilian's_ cabin-- the men being accommodated in the steerage. Thus we had the mutual pleasure of each other's society all the way home. The passage was a long but uneventful one, and by the time that we arrived in the Chops of the Channel Smellie's wound had taken so favourable a turn that he was almost as well as ever, save and except for a little lingering weakness and shakiness in his lower spars, which, somehow, obstinately continued to need the assistance and support of Dona Antonia's fair arm whenever the two promenaded the deck together. My gallant superior was extremely anxious to be married immediately on the ship's arrival, and after the usual protestations and pleadings for delay with which engaged maidens delight to torment their lovers, Dona Antonia so far yielded as to consent to the wedding taking place on the earliest possible day after my trial, so that I might be present at the ceremony. And this arrangement was duly carried out; the trial by court-martial being, of course, a mere form, from which I and my fellow-survivors emerged with a full acquittal, accompanied, in my case, by a few very gracious and complimentary remarks from the president on the manner in which I had conducted myself during my short period of service. As for Smellie, he found himself fully confirmed in his rank of commander, with the gracious intimation that, in appreciation of his valued services, an appointment would be at his disposal whenever he felt himself sufficiently recovered to ask for it, which he did after a six months' sojourn at home with his young wife. I sailed with him in the capacity of midshipman, and in the West Indies and elsewhere we passed through several stirring adventures together, the record of which may possibly be given in the future. THE END. 
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21070	----	A Middy of the Slave Squadron A West African Story By Harry Collingwood ________________________________________________________________________ This was one of the last books written by "Harry Collingwood". The copy we worked from was very clearly printed, but with one very major problem - the text was printed far too close to the centre of the book. Therefore the book could not be scanned using the regular book-scanner, but rather it was done using the scanner in flat-bed mode. However, the results were quite good, with the text coming through very clearly, and only the hyphens needing a good amount of checking. The hyphens get affected by the cleaning-up process which takes out the unwanted dark patches on the scans. The book is exactly according to the title. Remembering that "Harry Collingwood" was in real life a naval architect, you can take good note of the way he handles nautical terminology. Other contemporary authors were good, but in this respect Collingwood is a real master. It makes a good audiobook, so you ought to enjoy it very greatly. NH. ________________________________________________________________________ A MIDDY OF THE SLAVE SQUADRON A WEST AFRICAN STORY BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD CHAPTER ONE. A SOUND THROUGH THE DARKNESS. "Phew!" ejaculated Mr Perry, first lieutenant of His Britannic Majesty's corvette _Psyche_, as he removed his hat and mopped the perspiration from his streaming forehead with an enormous spotted pocket-handkerchief. "I believe it's getting hotter instead of cooler; although, by all the laws that are supposed to govern this pestiferous climate, we ought to be close upon the coolest hour of the twenty-four! Just step aft to the skylight, Mr Fortescue, and see what the time is, will ye? It must surely be nearing two bells." "Ay, ay, sir!" I dutifully answered; and, moving aft to the skylight, raised the canvas cover which had been placed over it to mask the light of the low-turned lamp which was kept burning all night in the fore cabin, and glanced at the clock which, screwed to the coaming on one side of the tell-tale compass, balanced the barometer which, hung in gimbals, was suspended on the other side. The clock marked the time as two minutes to five a.m., or within two minutes of two bells in the morning watch. Dropping the canvas screen back into place, I was about to announce the time to my superior officer, when I thought I caught, through the faint creak of the ship's timbers and the light rustling of the canvas aloft, a slight, far off sound, like the squeak of a sheave on a rusty pin. Therefore, instead of proclaiming the time aloud, I stepped quietly to the side of the first luff, and asked, almost in a whisper-- "Did you hear anything just then, sir?" "Hear anything?" reiterated Mr Perry, unconsciously lowering his usually stentorian voice in response to the suggestion of secrecy conveyed by my whisper; "no, I can't say that I did. What d'ye mean, Mr Fortescue?" "I mean, sir," I replied, "that I thought I caught, a moment ago, a sound like that of--ah! did you hear _that_, then, sir?" as a voice, uttering some words of command, apparently in the Spanish language, came floating to us, faint but clear, across the invisible water upon which the _Psyche_ lay rolling almost imperceptibly. "Ay, I did," answered Mr Perry, modulating his voice still further. "No mistake about that, eh? There's a craft of some sort out there, less than a mile distant, I should say. Did you catch the words? They sounded to me like some foreign lingo." "No, sir," I replied, "I did not quite catch them, but, as you say, they appeared to be foreign, and I believe they were Spanish. What about striking two bells, sir? It only wanted two minutes--" "On no account whatever, Mr Fortescue," hastily interrupted my companion. "On the contrary, have the kindness to slip for'ard and caution the watch not to sing out, or make the slightest noise, on any account, but to come quietly aft if they happen to have anything to report. And when you have done that, kindly go down and call Captain Harrison." "Ay, ay, sir!" I answered; and, kicking off my shoes, lest the sound of them upon the deck should reach the stranger through that still and breathless atmosphere, I proceeded upon my twofold errand. But it is time to tell the reader where the _Psyche_ was upon this dark and stifling night; what she was doing there; and why the precautions above referred to were deemed necessary. As has already been mentioned, the _Psyche_ was a British man-o'-war. She was a sloop, armed with fourteen long 18-pounders; and carried a crew which had originally consisted of one hundred and thirty men, but which had now been reduced by sickness and casualties to one hundred and four, all told. She was a unit in the somewhat scanty Slave Squadron which Great Britain had stationed on the West African coast for the suppression of the infamous slave-trade; and when this story opens-- namely, about the middle of the year 1822--had been upon the station nearly two years, during the whole of which period I, Richard Fortescue, hailing from the neighbourhood of the good town of Plymouth, had been on board her, and now held the responsible position of senior midshipman; being, at the above date, just turned seventeen years of age. The _Psyche_ was a fine, stout, roomy, and comfortable craft of her class; but about as unsuitable for the work upon which she was now engaged as could well be, for she was a converted merchant ship, built for the purpose of carrying the biggest possible cargo that could be packed into certain prescribed limits, and consequently, as might be expected, phenomenally slow. To commission such a vessel to chase and capture the nimble craft that were usually employed to transport the unhappy blacks across the Atlantic was simply a ghastly farce, and caused us, her unfortunate crew, to be the laughing-stock of the entire coast. Yet, considering all things, we had not done so very badly; for realising, early in the commission, that we need never hope for success from the speed of our ship, we had invoked the aid of strategy, and by dint of long practice had brought the trapping of slavers almost up to the level of high art. Consequently the _Psyche_, despite the disabilities arising from her astonishing lack of speed, had acquired a certain reputation among the slave-dealing fraternity, and was as intensely detested by them as any ship on the station. At the moment when the reader first finds himself a member of her crew the _Psyche_ was lying near the mouth of the Benin river, some two miles off the shore and about twice that distance from the river's mouth, at which point we had arrived at midnight; having made our way thither in consequence of "information received," which led us to believe that a large ship was at that moment in the river taking on board a full cargo of blacks. We had drifted down to the position which we then occupied under the impulse of the last of the land-breeze, which had died out and left us becalmed some two miles short of the precise spot for which we were aiming. Still, we were near enough for all practical purposes, or believed that we were; for we thought that if a thoroughly smart look- out were maintained--and we had grown to be adepts at that sort of thing--it would be impossible for a slaver to attempt to slip out of the river without our becoming cognisant of the fact. And now, to return to my story. Having first stolen forward and warned the watch that a craft of some sort was within hearing distance of us, and that they were therefore carefully to avoid crying out, or making any other sound that might betray our presence, I returned aft, in the same cautious manner, and was on the point of descending the companion ladder to call the captain, when _ting-ting_ came the soft chiming of a ship's bell, mellowed by distance, from somewhere in the offing, evidencing--or so it seemed to me--the fact that the stranger had not as yet discovered our proximity. The skipper, accustomed to being disturbed at all hours of the night, awoke at the first touch of my knuckles upon his cabin door. "Yes!" he called; "what is it?" "There is a strange craft not far from us, sir," I answered; "and Mr Perry considered that you should be apprised of the fact. We know nothing whatever about her, except that she is there; for the night is so intensely dark that we have been unable to catch the faintest glimpse of her, but we have just heard them strike two bells aboard her. We have not struck our own bell, sir, thinking--" "Yes, of course, quite right," interrupted the skipper, as he landed with a soft thud on the floor of his state-room. "Tell Mr Perry that I'll be on deck in a brace of shakes." He followed close at my heels up the companion ladder, having paused only long enough to slip into his nether garments, and came groping blindly out on deck. "Phew!" he muttered, as he emerged from the companion; "it's as dark as the inside of a cow. Where are you, Mr Perry?" "Here I am, sir; close alongside you," answered the first luff, stretching out his hand and lightly touching the skipper's arm. "Yes," he continued, "it certainly _is_ dark, unusually so; so dark that I am in hopes of keeping our presence a secret from the fellow out yonder until you shall have decided what is to be done." "Mr Fortescue tells me that you have not seen anything of him thus far," remarked the captain. "Whereabout is he, and how far off, do you reckon?" "Somewhere away in that direction," indicated the lieutenant, with a flourish of his arm. "As to the distance--well, that is rather difficult to judge. Sound travels far on such a night as this; but I should say that the craft is not more than half a mile distant, or three-quarters, at the utmost." "Um!" commented the captain meditatively. "I suppose it is not, by any chance, the craft which we are after, which has slipped out of the river in the darkness, eh?" "I should scarcely think so, sir," answered Perry. "A man would literally have to be able to find his way about blindfolded to attempt to run out of the river on such a night as this. No, I am inclined to think that it is some inward-bound craft, becalmed like ourselves. We caught the sound of some order spoken on board her when we first became aware of her presence, and Mr Fortescue here was of opinion that the words used were Spanish, although the distance was too great to enable us to distinguish just what was said." "Ay," responded the skipper; "two out of every three slavers doing business on this coast are either Spaniards or Portuguese. Now, the question is, What are we to do with regard to our unknown friend out yonder? Either she is, or is not, the craft that we are on the look-out for. If she _is_, we must take her, by hook or by crook, before the sea-breeze sets in and gives her the chance to run away from us; and that means a jaunt in the boats. On the other hand, if she is not the craft that we are after, she is still in all probability a slaver, and in any case will doubtless pay for an overhaul, which again means a boat trip. Therefore, Mr Perry, be good enough to have the hands called, and the boats got into the water as silently as possible. If the men are quick we may be able to get away, and perhaps alongside her, before the dawn breaks. I will take charge of this little pleasure-party myself, and you can stay here and keep house during my absence." "Ay, ay, sir," answered Perry, in tones which clearly betrayed his disappointment at the arrangement come to by the skipper. "I will put matters in hand." "Yes, do," returned the skipper; "and meanwhile I will go and dress. It shall be your turn next time, Perry," he chuckled, as he turned away to go below again. "Ay," grumbled the lieutenant to himself, but audibly enough for me to hear. "Same old yarn--`your turn next time, Perry.' This will make the third time running that I have been left behind to `keep house,' but there's not going to be a fourth, I'll see to that; it is time that this child stood up for his rights. Now, Mr Fortescue, have the goodness, if you please, to pass the word for all hands to arm and man boats; and to be quiet about it, too, and show no lights." "Ay, ay, sir," I briskly responded, as I turned to hurry away; "I'll see that our lambs don't bleat too loudly. And--I suppose--that I may take it for granted that--" "That you will make one of the `pleasure-party'?" interrupted the lieutenant, with a laugh, as he put his disappointment and ill-humour away from him. "Oh, yes, I suppose so. At all events there will be no harm in making your preparations; the captain is pretty certain to take you." Still on my bare feet, I hurried forward and found the boatswain. "That you, Mr Futtock?" I inquired, as I made out his burly form. "Ay, ay, Mr Fortescue, it's me, right enough," was the answer. "I presoom, sir, it's another boat job, eh? You heard that bell?" "We did, Mr Futtock; yes, we heard it distinctly, seeing that we don't `caulk' in our watch on deck," I retorted. "Yes, it's another boat affair; so be good enough to have all hands called at once, if you please. And kindly make it your personal business to see that nobody raises his voice, lets anything fall, or otherwise creates row enough to wake the dead. This is going to be a little surprise visit, you understand." "Ay, ay, Mr Fortescue, I understands," answered Futtock, as he moved toward the open hatchway; "I'll see that the swabs don't make no noise. The man that raises his voice above a whisper won't go. That's all." "Just one word more, Mr Futtock," I hastily interposed, as the boatswain stepped over the coaming to descend the hatchway. "You may do me a favour, if you will. Kindly ask the armourer to pick me out a nice sharp cutlass, if you please. You can bring it on deck with you when you come up." To this request the boatswain readily enough assented; and matters being thus far satisfactorily arranged I descended to the cockroach-haunted den wherein we mids. ate and slept, to find that little Tom Copplestone--who shared my watch, and who was a special favourite of mine because of his gentle, genial disposition, and also perhaps because he hailed from the same county as myself--having overheard the conversation between Mr Perry and myself, had already come below and roused the occupants of the place, who, by the smoky rays of a flaring oil lamp that did its best to make the atmosphere quite unendurable, were hastily arraying themselves. "Murder!" I ejaculated, as I entered the pokey little place and got my first whiff of its close, reeking, smoke-laden atmosphere; "put out that abominable lamp and light a candle or two, somebody, for pity's sake. How the dickens you fellows can manage to breathe down here I can't understand. And, boy," to the messenger outside, "pass the word for Cupid to bring us along some cocoa from the galley." "There's no need," remarked Nugent, the master's mate, as he struggled ineffectively to find the left sleeve of his jacket. "The word has already been passed; I passed it myself when Master Cock-robin there," pointing to Copplestone, "came and roused us out. And, as to candles, I'm afraid we haven't any; the rats appear to have eaten the last two we had in the locker. However--ah, here comes the cocoa. Put the pot down there, Cupid--never mind if it _does_ soil our beautiful damask table- cloth, we're going to have it washed next time we go into Sierra Leone. And just see if you can find us a biscuit or two and some butter, will ye, you black angel? Here, avast there,"--as the black was about to retire--"produce our best china breakfast-set before you go, you swab, and pour out the cocoa." The black, a herculean Krooboy, picked up when we first arrived on the Coast, and promptly christened "Cupid" by the master's mate, who, possibly because of sundry disappointments, had developed a somewhat sardonic turn of humour, grinned appreciatively at Nugent's sorry jest respecting "our best china breakfast-set," and proceeded to rout out the heterogeneous assortment of delf and tin cups, basins, and plates that constituted the table-equipage of the midshipmen's berth, poured out a generous allowance of cocoa for each of us, and then departed, with the empty bread-barge, in quest of a supply of ship's biscuit. By the time that Cupid returned with this, we had gulped down our cocoa and were ready to go on deck. I therefore helped myself to a couple of biscuits which, breaking into pieces of convenient size by the simple process of dashing them against my elbow, I crammed into my jacket pocket, and then rushed up the ladder to the deck, leaving my companions to follow after they had snatched a hasty bite or two of food; for there was now no knowing when we might get breakfast. Upon my arrival on deck I found the hands already mustering under the supervision of the first lieutenant, and a moment later I encountered the boatswain, who handed over to me a good serviceable ship's cutlass-- worth a dozen of the ridiculous little dirks which were considered suitable weapons for midshipmen--which I promptly girded about my waist. At this moment all was bustle and animation throughout the ship, yet so sedulously had we been trained to act in perfect silence that I am certain the stealthy footfalls of the men hurrying to their stations, and the whispered words of command, were quite inaudible at a distance of twenty yards from the ship. Within a minute or two, however, even these faint sounds had subsided, the crew were all mustered, and the first lieutenant, assisted by a quartermaster who carried a carefully masked lantern, was carefully, yet rapidly, inspecting each man's weapons and equipment, scrutinising the flints in the locks of the pistols, and otherwise satisfying himself of the efficiency of our hurried preparations. While the inspection was still in progress the captain came on deck, with his sword girded to his side and a brace of pistols thrust into his belt, and stood quietly looking on until the inspection was completed and Mr Perry had reported that everything was in order. Then the skipper announced that he would personally lead the attack in his own gig, manned by eight oarsmen, a coxswain, and a midshipman-- myself; while the first cutter, manned by sixteen oarsmen, a coxswain, and a midshipman--Jack Keene--was to be commanded by Mr Purchase, the second lieutenant; and the second cutter, with twelve oarsmen, a coxswain, and Nugent, the master's mate, was to be under the command of the boatswain. Thus the attacking party was to consist of forty-five persons, all told, which was as many, I suppose, as the skipper felt justified in taking out of the ship under the circumstances. Then ensued a busy five minutes, during which the boats were being noiselessly lowered and manned, the oars muffled, and every possible precaution observed to enable us to take our unseen but doubtless vigilant enemy unawares. This was just then regarded as of especial importance, for at the time of which I am now writing the traffic in slaves was regarded as piracy, and rendered its perpetrators liable to capital punishment, in consequence of which almost every slaver went heavily armed, and her crew, knowing that the halter was already about their necks, resisted capture by every means which their ingenuity could devise, whenever they had the chance, and often fought with desperate valour. As I hurried aft to attend to the lowering of the gig, which hung from davits over the stern, a hand was suddenly laid upon my arm, and, turning, I found myself confronted by Cupid, the Krooboy servant who "did for us" in the midshipmen's berth. His eyes were aglow with excitement, he carried a short-handled hatchet, with a head somewhat bigger and heavier than that of a ship's tomahawk, in his hand, and he was naked, save for a pair of dungaree trousers, the legs of which were rolled up above his knees. "Mr Fortescue, sar, I fit for go in dem boat wid you, sar," he whispered eagerly. "Yes, I quite believe it, Cupid," I replied. "But you know perfectly well that I cannot give you permission to join the gig's crew. If the captain had been anxious to have the pleasure of your company I feel sure that he would have mentioned the fact. Besides, if you should happen to be killed, what would become of us poor midshipmen?" A suppressed chuckle, and a gleam of white teeth through the darkness, betrayed Cupid's appreciation of the compliment subtly conveyed in the suggestion that the budding admirals inhabiting the midshipmen's berth aboard H.M.S. _Psyche_ would suffer, should he unhappily be slain in the impending conflict, but he hastened to reassure me. "No fear, sar," he whispered. "Dem slaber no lib for kill me. I, Cupid, too much plenty black for see in de dark; an' if dey no see me, dey no kill. Savvey? _Please_, Mr Fortescue, sar. I no lib for fight too much plenty long time." "Look here, Cupid," I replied. "It is no use for you to ask me for permission to go in the gig, for I cannot give it you. But,"-- meaningly--"if you were to stow yourself away in the eyes of the gig it is just possible that the captain might not notice you until we had got too far from the ship to turn back. Only don't let me see you doing it, that's all." "Dat all right, sar," answered the black, with a sigh of extreme content. "If you no look for dem Cupid you no see um." And he turned and ostentatiously walked away forward. The boats having been gently and carefully lowered into the water without a splash, or so much as a single tell-tale squeak from the tackle-blocks--the pins and bushes of which were habitually overhauled at frequent intervals and kept well lubricated with a mixture of melted tallow and plumbago--the crews took their places, each man carefully depositing his drawn cutlass on the bottom-boards between his feet, and we shoved off with muffled oars, the three boats pulling abreast, with about a ship's length between each; so that if perchance we should happen to be seen, we should present as small a target as possible to aim at. We pulled slowly and with the utmost caution, for the twofold reason that we had not yet caught sight of our quarry and only knew in a general sort of way that she was somewhere to seaward of us, and because we were anxious to avoid premature discovery from the splash of our oars. It was of course perfectly right and proper that we should observe all the precautions that I have indicated; for if we could but contrive to creep up alongside the stranger without being detected, it would undoubtedly mean the prevention of much loss of life. But, personally, I had very little hope of our being able to do so; for the night was so breathlessly still that, if any sort of look-out at all were being kept aboard the stranger--and slavers usually slept with one eye open--they must surely have caught some hint of our proximity, careful as we had been to maintain as complete silence as possible while making our preparations. Besides, as ill-luck would have it, the water was in an unusually brilliant phosphorescent condition just then, the slightest disturbance of it caused a silvery glow that could be seen a mile away; and, be as silent as we might, the dip of our oars and the passage of the boats through the water set up such a blaze as could not fail to betray us, should a man happen to glance in our direction. At length, when we had pulled about half a mile, as nearly as I could judge, I detected a slight suspicion of a softening in the velvety blackness of the sky in the eastern quarter. It brightened, even as I looked, and a solitary star, low down in the sky, seemed to flicker, faintly and more faintly, for half a dozen seconds, and then disappear. "The dawn is coming, sir," I whispered to the skipper, by whose side I was sitting, "and in another minute or two we ought to--ah! there she is. Do you see her, sir?" And I pointed in the direction of a faint, ghostlike blotch that had suddenly appeared at a spot some three points on our port bow. "Where away?" demanded the skipper, instinctively raising his hand to shade his eyes; but he had scarcely lifted it to the height of his shoulder when he too caught sight of the object. "Ay," he exclaimed, "I see her. And a big craft she is, too; a barque, apparently. Surely that cannot be the craft that we are after? Yet it looks very like her. If so, she must have slipped out of the river with the last of the land-breeze last night, and lain becalmed all night where she is. Now what are the other boats about that they have not seen her? Parkinson," to the coxswain, "show that lantern for a moment to the other boats, but take care to shield it with--ah! never mind, there are both their lights. Give way, men. Put me alongside under her mizen chains, my lad. Either side; I don't care which." While the captain had been speaking the faint, ghostly glimmer that I had detected had resolved itself into the spectral semblance of a large ship clothed from her trucks down with canvas upon which the rapidly growing light of the advancing dawn was falling and thus rendering it just barely visible against its dark background of sky. In the tropics day comes and goes with a rush, and, even while the skipper had been speaking, the object which had first revealed itself to me, a minute earlier, as a mere wan, ghostly suggestion had assumed solidity and definiteness of form, and now stood out against the sky behind her as a full-rigged ship of some seven hundred and fifty tons burthen, her hull painted bright green, and coppered to the water-line. She was lying stern-on to us, and sat deep in the water, from which latter fact one inferred that she had her cargo of slaves on board and had doubtless, as the skipper conjectured, come out of the river with the last of the land-breeze during the previous night, and had remained becalmed near us, and, we hoped, quite unaware of our proximity all night. She was now within a cable's length of the boats, but, lying as she was, dead stern-on to us, we in the gig were unable to see how many guns she carried, which was, however, an advantage to us, since, however many guns she might mount on her broadsides, she could bring none of them to bear upon us. We saw, however, that she carried two stern- chasers--long nine's, apparently--and now, in the hope of dashing alongside before those two guns could be cast loose and brought to bear upon us, the captain stood up in the stern-sheets of the gig and waved his arm to the other boats as a signal to them to give way--for, with the coming of the daylight we could not possibly hope to remain undiscovered above a second or two longer. Indeed the boats' crews had scarcely bent their backs in response to the signal when there arose a sudden startled outcry on board the ship, followed by a volley of hurried commands and the hasty trampling of feet upon her decks. But we were so close to her, when discovered, and the surprise was so complete, that her crew had no time to do anything effective in the way of defence; and in little over a couple of minutes we had swept up alongside, clambered in over her lofty bulwarks, driven her crew below, and were in full possession of the _Dona Isabella_ of Havana, mounting twelve guns, with a crew of forty-six Spaniards, Portuguese, and half-castes, constituting as ruffianly a lot as I had ever met with. She had a cargo of seven hundred and forty negroes on board, and was far and away the finest prize that had thus far fallen to the lot of the _Psyche_. So valuable, indeed, was she that Captain Harrison decided not to trust her entirely to a prize crew, but to escort her to Sierra Leone in the corvette; and some two hours later, having meanwhile made all the necessary dispositions, the two craft trimmed sail with the first of the sea-breeze and hauled up for Sierra Leone, where we arrived a week later after an uneventful passage. CHAPTER TWO. IN THE FERNAN VAZ RIVER. While we were awaiting the formal condemnation of the _Dona Isabella_ by the Mixed Commission, and the trial of her crew upon the charge of piracy, Captain Harrison, our skipper, busily employed himself, as was his wont, in hunting up information relative to the movements, present and prospective, of the slavers upon the coast. And this was not quite so difficult to do as might at first be imagined; for, Sierra Leone being the headquarters, so to speak, of the British Slave Squadron, the persons actually engaged in the slave-trade found that it paid them well to maintain agents there for the sole purpose of picking up every possible item of information relative to the movements and doings of that squadron. For it not unfrequently happened that, to those behind the scenes, an apparently trivial and seemingly quite worthless bit of information, an imprudent word dropped by an unwary officer respecting one of our vessels, enabled the acute ones to calculate so closely that they often succeeded in making a dash into some river, shipping a cargo of slaves, and getting clear away to sea again only a few hours before our cruisers put in an appearance on the spot. And in the same way our own officers, by frequenting, in disguise, the haunts of the slavers and their agents, very often succeeded in catching a hint that, carefully followed up, led to most important captures being made. It was, indeed, through a hint so acquired that we had been put upon the track of the _Dona Isabella_. Now, our own skipper, Captain Harrison, was particularly keen upon this sort of work, and was exceptionally well qualified to achieve success in it. For, in the first place, he was a West Indian by birth, being the son of a Trinidad sugar-planter, and he consequently spoke Creole Spanish as fluently as he did his mother tongue. Also his physical characteristics were such as to be of the greatest assistance to him in such enterprises; for he was tall, lean, and muscular, of swarthy complexion, with thick, black, curly hair, and large, black, flashing eyes, suggesting that he carried a touch of the tar-brush, although, as a matter of fact, he had not a drop of negro blood in him. He was a man of dauntless courage, knowing not the meaning of fear, and absolutely revelling in situations of the most extreme peril, yet gifted with quite as much discretion as was needful for a man entrusted with heavy responsibilities involving the lives of many of his fellow-men. He never sought danger for danger's sake alone, and never embarked in an enterprise which his reason assured him was hopelessly impracticable, but, on the other hand, he never hesitated to undertake the most perilous task if he believed he could see a way to its successful accomplishment. It was his habit to assume a variety of disguises in which he would haunt the third and fourth rate taverns of Freetown, especially patronised by the slave-dealing fraternity, and mingling freely with these gentry, would boldly express his own views, adopted, of course, for the occasion, upon the various matters affecting the trade, or discuss with them the most promising schemes for baffling the efforts of the British cruisers. He had noticed, very early in his career as an officer of the Slave Squadron, that it was always the _British_ who constituted the _bete noire_ of the slavers; the French they feared very little; the Americans not at all. These little incursions into the enemy's territory Captain Harrison conducted with consummate boldness and skill, and with a considerable measure of success, for it was quite a favourite amusement of his to devise and suggest schemes of a particularly alluring character which, when adopted by the enemy, he of course triumphantly circumvented without difficulty. There was only one fault to find with this propensity on the part of our skipper, but in my humble judgment it constituted a serious one. It was this. Captain Harrison's personality was a distinctly striking one; he was the kind of man who, once seen, is not easily forgotten; and I greatly dreaded that some day, sooner or later, the reckless frequenter of the low-class Freetown taverns would be identified as one and the same with the captain of H.M.S. _Psyche_, who was of course frequently to be seen about the streets in the uniform of a British naval captain. Indeed I once took the liberty of delicately hinting at this possibility; but the skipper laughed at the idea; he had, it appeared, the most implicit faith in his disguises, which included, amongst other things, a huge false moustache of most ferocious appearance, and an enormous pair of gold earrings. We had been at Sierra Leone a little over a fortnight, and our business there was just completed, when the skipper came aboard on a certain afternoon in a state of the highest good-humour, occasioned, as soon transpired, by the fact that he had succeeded in obtaining full particulars of an exceptionally grand _coup_ that had been planned by a number of slavers in conjunction, which they were perfectly confident of pulling off triumphantly. It appeared, from his story, that intelligence had just been received of the successful conclusion of a great slave-hunting raid into the interior by a certain King Olomba, who had recently returned in triumph to his town of Olomba, on the left bank of the Fernan Vaz river, bringing with him nearly three thousand negroes, of whom over two thousand were males, all in prime condition. This information having reached the slavers' agents at Sierra Leone through the mysterious channels by which news often travels in Africa, an effort of quite exceptional magnitude was to be made to get at least the two thousand males out of the country at one fell swoop; the present being regarded as an almost uniquely favourable opportunity for the accomplishment of this object, for the reason that the _Psyche_ was just then the only ship which could by any possibility interfere with the scheme. And in the event of her happening to put in an inopportune appearance on that part of the coast at the critical moment--as she had a knack of doing, in the most unaccountable manner--she was to be decoyed away from the spot by the simple process of dispatching to sea a certain notorious schooner well-known to be in the trade, but which, for this occasion only, was to have no slaves or slave fittings or adjuncts on board, and after a chase of some two or three hundred miles to the southward, was to permit herself to be caught, only to be released again, of course, after an exhaustive overhaul. It was an admirable scheme, beautifully simple, and could scarcely fail to achieve complete success, but for the fact that Captain Harrison had contrived to obtain full particulars of it, and therefore knew exactly how to frustrate the plan. His plot was as simple as that of the slavers: he would proceed in the _Psyche_ to the scene of operations, and when the decoy schooner made her appearance she would be permitted to go on her way unmolested, while a boat expedition would be dispatched up the river to the town of Olomba, where the vessels actually engaged in shipping the two thousand blacks would be captured _flagrante delicto_. Naturally we were all thrown into a high state of jubilation at the receipt of this intelligence; for it promised us a slice of good luck of such magnitude as very seldom fell to the lot of a single cruiser. To convey two thousand negroes across the Atlantic at once would necessitate the employment of at least three large ships, the value of which might be roughly calculated at, upon the very lowest estimate, ten thousand pounds each, or thirty thousand pounds in all, besides which there would be the head-money upon two thousand negroes, amounting altogether to quite a nice little sum in prize-money for a cruise of probably less than a month's duration. Oh, how we chuckled as we pictured to ourselves the effect which the news of so magnificent a _coup_ would create upon the minds of the rest of the Slave Squadron. The _Psyche_, from her phenomenal lack of speed, and general unsuitability for the service upon which she was employed, had, with her crew, become the butt and laughing-stock of every stupid and scurrilous jester on the coast, and many a time had we been made to writhe under the lash of some more than ordinarily envenomed gibe; but now the laugh was to be on our side; we were going to demonstrate to those shallow, jeering wits the superiority of brains over a clean pair of heels. Of course we were all in a perfect fever of impatience to get to sea and make the best of our way to the scene of action, lest haply we should arrive too late and find the birds flown; but the skipper retained his coolness and would permit nothing to be done that could by any possibility suggest to the slavers the idea that the faintest hint of their audacious scheme had been allowed to get abroad. He insisted that we had plenty of time and to spare, and actually remained in harbour three whole days after the information had reached him. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, we weighed and stood out to sea, beating off the land against the sea-breeze until we ran into the calm belt between the sea-breeze and the trade-wind. Here we remained motionless for more than an hour until the trade-wind gradually ate its way inshore and reached us, when we ran right out to sea until we had sunk the land astern of us. Then we hauled up to the southward on a taut bowline, and, under easy canvas, made our leisurely way toward the mouth of the Fernan Vaz river, off which we arrived five days later, making the land from the masthead about an hour before sunset. All that night, the whole of the next day, and all the night following we remained hove-to under topsails, jib, and spanker, dodging to and fro athwart the mouth of the river, with a man on the main-royal yard, during the hours of daylight, to give us timely notice of the appearance of the craft which was to play the part of decoy; while with the approach of nightfall we made sail and beat in to within a distance of some three miles of the coast, running off into the offing again an hour before daylight. At length, when we had hung upon the tenterhooks of suspense for close upon forty hours, and were beginning to fear that the captain, in his resolve to cut matters as fine as possible, had overdone the thing and allowed the quarry to escape, we were gladdened by the hail from aloft of-- "Sail he! A large schooner just comin' out o' the river, sir." "Ay, ay," answered the first lieutenant, whose watch it happened to be. "Just keep your eye on her, my lad, and let me know how she steers when she is clear of the bar." We were heading to the southward at the time, and were about three miles south of the river entrance, and some sixteen miles off the land; by pretending therefore not to see her for the next quarter of an hour or so, and keeping the _Psyche_ still heading to the southward, we should afford the stranger an excellent opportunity to secure a sufficient offing to make good her escape. Then we would heave about, make sail in chase, drive her off the coast, and work in as close to the river's mouth as we dared venture, when the ship was to be brought to an anchor, and the boats manned, armed, and dispatched into the river. Meanwhile, as previously arranged, Captain Harrison was aroused, and informed of the fact that the decoy schooner, or what was assumed to be such, had made her appearance and was now fairly at sea, steering a little to the northward of west under a heavy press of sail; and close upon the heels of the returning messenger the worthy skipper himself appeared. He sprang upon a gun-carriage and peered intently shoreward under the shade of his hand; but only the upper canvas of the stranger was visible from our deck; and he impatiently hailed the look-out aloft to give him a detailed description of the vessel. The fellow in the cross-trees happened, however, to be a poor sort of unintelligent fellow, and could say very little about the craft beyond stating the fact that she was a schooner, painted black; that she sat deep in the water, showed an immense spread of canvas, and appeared to be very fast. "I have no sort of doubt that yonder schooner is the craft whose duty it is to draw us off the coast and leave the way clear for the other fellows to get out to sea," he said. "But I should like to have a somewhat better description of her than that `sodger' up aloft there seems able to give." He glanced round the deck and his eye fell upon me. "Ah, Mr Fortescue," he exclaimed, "you will doubtless be able to do what I want. Just slip down into my cabin; you will find my glass hanging above the head of my bunk. Throw the strap of it over your shoulder, and shin up alongside that fellow in the cross-trees; take a good look at the stranger; and report to me any peculiarities that you may detect in her, will ye." "Ay, ay, sir," I replied, touching my hat; and five minutes later I was sitting in the main-topmast cross-trees, with the long barrel of the telescope steadied against the topmast-head, and my eye glued to the eye-piece. From this elevation I commanded a complete, if distant, view of the low land about the river entrance, with its fringe of mangrove trees running away inland, the sand hummocks, sparsely clothed with coarse, reedy grass and trailing plants, and the endless line of the surf-beaten African beach. Also through the skipper's powerful lenses I obtained a most excellent view of the strange schooner, from her trucks to her water-line, including such details as I could have discerned with the naked eye at a distance of about half a mile. I saw, for example, that, as the look-out had already reported, she was a large schooner--I estimated her to be one hundred and eighty tons burthen at the least; I verified the statement that her hull was painted all black from the rail to the top of her copper; that she showed an enormous spread of canvas; and that she sat very low in the water. But I noticed a few other peculiarities as well; I saw that her bowsprit was painted black, while her jib-booms were scraped and varnished; that her foremast, fore- topmast, and fore-topgallant and royal-mast were varnished, while the mast heads were painted black, and that the whole of the mainmast, from the cap down, was painted _white_, which was a peculiarity that ought to have been sufficient to identify her as far as one could see her. And so it was; for the moment that I reported it the skipper hailed-- "Thank you, Mr Fortescue; that will do; you may come down. Or--hold on a minute. Is the stranger far enough out of the river to enable her to get clear away, think ye?" "She is fully a mile from the mouth of the river, sir," I answered. "Ah, that will do, then, thank you; you may both come down," answered the skipper. And as I swung myself down through the cross-trees to the topmast rigging, I heard him give the order to "Wear ship and make sail." Five minutes later the _Psyche_ was heading to the northward, close- hauled on the port tack, under all plain sail to her royals, doing nearly seven knots, and laying a course that, with nice steering, would just enable us to fetch the river's mouth handsomely without breaking tacks. The schooner, meanwhile, was romping along at a pace of at least twelve knots per hour, on the starboard tack, throwing the spray over her weather bow to half the height of her lower yard, and shaping a course which would enable her to pass us at a distance of fully eight miles dead to windward. We allowed her to go on her way unmolested. It was just noon when, having arrived off the mouth of the river, we made a flying moor of it, letting go the first and then the second bower anchor in ten fathoms, at a distance of about one and a half miles from the shore, and at a spot from which the river mouth and perhaps half a mile of the river itself were in plain view. The town of King Olomba, it was understood, was situated at a distance of about thirty-two miles from our anchorage; and as the captain was anxious that the journey should be made at an easy pace, so that the men might arrive comparatively fresh, and in fit condition for the rather stiff bit of work that lay at the end of it, eight hours were to be allowed for the passage of the boats to their destination. And as it was highly undesirable that the expedition should be unduly exposed in the boats to the pestiferous effects of the miasmatic night-fogs which gather upon most of the West African rivers after sunset, it had already been arranged that the attacking party should not start until the following morning, at an hour which would enable us to reach the scene of operations in time to make a reconnaissance and arrange the plan of attack by nightfall. The remainder of that day was therefore employed in getting the boats ready, stocking them with three days' rations of provisions and water, overhauling the boat guns and slinging them ready for lowering, filling the ammunition boxes, sharpening cutlasses, fixing new flints to the pistols, where necessary, and generally completing our preparations. We also sent down royal and topgallant yards and housed the topgallant-masts, in order that, should it by any chance come on to blow heavily from the westward during our absence the ship might ride the more easily at her anchors. We also made preparation, in view of the foregoing contingency, for backing the bowers with the two stream anchors, and otherwise made every possible preparation for the safety of the ship during our absence; for the expedition in which we were about to engage was one of very considerable importance, and the task which we had set ourselves to perform was so formidable that, in order to insure success, it would be necessary to employ practically the entire ship's company, leaving the vessel in charge of the second lieutenant and only enough hands to keep a look-out and perform such tasks as, for example, the letting go of the stream anchors in case of necessity, the paying out of the additional amount of cable, the keeping of the ship reasonably clean, and so on. On the following morning, having washed decks and partaken of breakfast, the hands were mustered and inspected, the boats lowered, guns secured in the bows of the launch, pinnace, and first and second cutters, ammunition boxes passed down, masts stepped, sails cast loose, yards hooked on, and, in short, everything made ready for a start. Then we went down over the side and took our places in the boats to which we were severally appointed, the captain going as usual in his own gig, while Mr Perry, the first luff, was in command of the launch; Mr Hoskins, the third lieutenant, commanding the pinnace; Mr Marline, the master, having charge of the first cutter, while Mr Tompson, the gunner, commanded the second cutter. The skipper took me, as he generally did, in his own boat, but the other three mids. were left on board the _Psyche_ to keep Mr Purchase company. For the rest, Nugent, the master's mate, went with the first lieutenant, while Peter Futtock, the boatswain, accompanied the third lieutenant in the pinnace. We mustered ninety all told, and were none too many for the work that we had undertaken to do, which was--to capture three, if not four, large ships; capture and demolish the shore batteries which the slavers very frequently erected for the defence of their strongholds; and also, most likely, fight King Olomba and a whole flotilla of war canoes. The task was indeed a formidable one; the more so that we, the attacking party, would be, at least at the beginning of the fight, huddled closely together in boats, while our antagonists would have all the advantage of roomy decks to move about on, and steady gun platforms from which to pour in their fire, to say nothing of a tremendous superiority in point of numbers. We thought nothing of all this, however; we were going to have a change from the monotony of shipboard life; we should be certain to see new sights of a more or less interesting character; there was the excitement and exhilaration of a stiff fight awaiting us at the end of our journey; and, finally, there was the prospect of a pocketful of prize-money as a wind-up to the whole affair. What more could any reasonable individual desire? Like most African rivers, the Fernan Vaz has a bar, but the sea breaks upon it only when the wind blows fresh from the north-west, owing to the fact that as far up as the town of Olomba the river flows parallel to the line of coast, being separated from the open Atlantic by a low, sandy peninsula, varying from one to three miles in breadth, terminating in a spit which ordinarily shelters the bar from the rollers, leaving a narrow channel of unbroken water, wide enough to enable a couple of craft of moderate tonnage to pass each other comfortably. And well was it for us that this was the case; for as we approached the river's mouth we saw that the ground-swell was rapidly increasing in weight, and that the surf was breaking upon the beach with such violence that if it happened to be also breaking upon the bar it would be quite useless for us to attempt to enter the river. Indeed, so formidable did the appearance of the surf at length become that the captain ordered the rest of the boats to heave-to, while we in the gig went ahead to reconnoitre and inspect the condition of the bar. This was a bit of work for which the gig was peculiarly well adapted, for she was a beautifully modelled boat, double-ended, with a long flat floor--a splendid sailer, and a boat which would claw off a lee shore in almost any weather, the skipper having had her fitted with a good, deep, false keel. The wind was blowing a moderately fresh breeze from the westward at the time, thus, the rest of the boats having hove-to, it did not take us very long to run in far enough to get a sight of the bar. This was a rather trying experience for the nerves of us all; for the surf was pounding on the beach ahead of us in a constant succession of towering walls of water, that reared themselves to a height of fully thirty feet ere they curled over and broke in thunder so deafening that we presently found it impossible to make our voices heard above its continuous roar. But the skipper, standing up in the stern-sheets, soon detected the smooth, narrow strip of unbroken water, and directed the coxswain to shift his helm for it. I sprang up on a thwart and waved a small white flag as a signal to the other boats to fill away and follow us; and as soon as we had reached the very middle of the channel we rounded-to and lowered our sail, remaining where we were to act as a guide to the other boats. Keeping our position with the aid of a couple of oars thrown over to enable us to stem the out-flowing current, which we now began to feel, we allowed the other boats to pass in over the bar and reach the smooth water before us; then, hoisting our sail again, we followed them in and presently resumed our position at the head of the line. The change from the scene of wind-flecked blue sea, stately march of the swell, and thunderous roar and creaming froth of the breakers outside to the oil-smooth, mud-laden, strong-smelling river, with its tiny, swirling eddies here and there, its mangrove-lined banks, and its silence, through which the roar of the surf came to us over the intervening sand spit, mellowed and subdued by distance, was so marked that, although this was by no means my first experience of that kind of thing, I found myself rubbing my eyes as though I were by no means certain that I was awake; and I noticed others doing the same. A sharp word from the skipper, however, cautioning all hands to maintain a smart look-out, soon brought to us the realisation of our surroundings; for the river here was narrow, being not more than half a mile wide, with a number of small islets dotted about it, any one of which might prove to be the hiding-place of a formidable foe. When at length we had passed these without interference, and had reached the point where the river began to widen out somewhat, we were no better off, but rather the worse; for here the stream was encumbered with extensive sandbanks, to avoid which we were compelled to approach the margin of the river so closely that a well-arranged ambush might have practically annihilated us before we could have effected a landing through the thick, viscid mud and the almost impenetrable growth of mangroves that divided the waters of the river from the solid ground of the shore. Fortunately for us, the slavers appeared unaccountably to have overlooked the admirable opportunities thus afforded for frustrating an attack; or possibly, as we thought, it was that they had fully relied upon the power of the decoy schooner to draw us away from the coast, and thus leave the way free for them to escape. The passage of this part of the river occupied us until noon, and was rather trying to the nerves of all hands, for not only were we constantly exposed to attack by the slavers, but there were the natives also to be reckoned with; and these, as we all knew, had a most objectionable habit of using poisoned arrows, the slightest wound from which was invariably followed by death after some eight to twelve hours of dreadful suffering. Shortly after noon we emerged from these natural entanglements into a long reach of the river where the stream expanded to a width of some three and a half miles, with a narrow deep-water channel running about midway between the banks. Here we were quite free from any possibility of ambush of any kind; and with a sigh of intense relief the captain gave the word to pipe to dinner. About four o'clock in the afternoon we arrived at a point where the river again narrowed to a width of about a mile; but some two miles farther on it again widened out, and changed its direction, trending away almost due east, or about at right angles to its former course; and this, according to the information in the skipper's possession, indicated that we were nearing our destination. Drawing from his pocket a sketch chart which he had already consulted several times during our passage up the river, he again studied it intently for several minutes, carefully comparing the configurations delineated upon it with our actual surroundings; then, apparently satisfied with the result, he refolded the paper, returned it to his pocket, and directed the coxswain to bear away a couple of points toward a projecting point--which we afterwards discovered to be the western extremity of an islet--on the far side of the river. As we approached the spot for which we were heading it became apparent that there were two islets instead of one between us and the river bank; and a quarter of an hour later the gig, with the rest of the flotilla following her, glided in between these two islets, and, lowering her sails, made the signal for the other boats to anchor. The boats were now completely concealed from all possible observation, for we soon saw that the islets between which we were anchored consisted merely of mud-banks thickly overgrown with mangroves, and absolutely uninhabitable even by natives; for there did not appear to be an inch of ground upon either of the islets sufficiently solid to support even a reed hut, while the mangroves were tall enough and grew densely enough to hide the boats from all possible observation from the mainland. The only question which now troubled us was whether the presence of the boats in the river had already been observed. If the slavers had placed absolute confidence in the success of their plan to draw us away from the coast by means of the decoy schooner, they might not have troubled to keep a look-out; but if they were as cautious as such gentry usually are, and had left nothing to chance, it would be scarcely possible for the approach of the boats to have passed undetected. This was the question to which the captain was now going to seek an answer. CHAPTER THREE. AT THE CAMMA LAGOON. Distant about a mile from our hiding-place, there was, according to the captain's rough sketch map, a small peninsula enclosing a little bay, or creek, at the inner extremity of which was situated King Olomba's town; and it was here that we were led to believe we should find the slavers busily engaged in shipping their human cargoes. And truly, as seen from the boats, the ingenuity of man could scarcely have devised a more perfect spot whereat to conduct the infamous traffic; for the configuration of the land was such that boats, entering the river merely on an exploring expedition, without having first obtained, like ourselves, special information, would never have suspected the existence of the creek, or of the town which lay concealed within it. Nor would it have been possible to detect the presence of slave craft in the creek; for the peninsula which masked it was thickly overgrown with lofty trees which would effectually conceal all but the upper spars of a ship, and these would doubtless be struck or housed while she was lying in the creek. The skipper having explained to the officers in command of the other boats what he intended to do, and given them instructions how to act in the event of certain contingencies arising, the gig's crew manned their oars, and we pulled away in the direction of the peninsula, which we reached in the course of a few minutes. Now our real troubles began, for our object was not only to reach the peninsula but also to land upon and walk across it until a spot could be found from which, unseen ourselves, we could obtain a clear view of the creek and everything in it, and upon approaching the shore of the peninsula we discovered that, in common with as much of the river bank as we had yet seen, it consisted, first of all, of a wide belt of soft, fathomless mud overgrown with mangrove trees; the mud being of such a consistency that to attempt to walk upon it would mean being swallowed up and suffocated in it, for a sixteen-foot oar could be thrust perpendicularly into it with scarcely any effort, although when one of the men incautiously tried the experiment, it was only with the utmost difficulty that he was able to withdraw the oar, so tenaciously did the mud cling to it. Yet it was not sufficiently liquid to allow of the gig being forced through it, even if the thickly clustering mangrove roots would have permitted of such a proceeding. The only alternative left to us, therefore, was to endeavour to reach solid ground by clambering over the slippery mangrove roots, with the possibility that at any moment one or another of us might lose our footing, fall into the mud, and be swallowed up by it. However, "needs must" under certain circumstances, the skipper and I therefore scrambled out of the boat--taking Cupid with us to search out the way and carry a small coil of light line in case it should be wanted--and proceeded cautiously to claw our way like so many parrots, over and among the gnarled and twisted roots of the mangrove trees, the Krooboy leading the way, leaping and swinging himself with marvellous agility from tree to tree, while we followed slowly in his wake, as often as not being obliged to make a slip-rope of the line to enable us to cross some exceptionally wide or awkward gap. In this manner, after about half an hour's arduous toil, with the perspiration pouring out of us until our clothes were saturated with it, while we were driven nearly frantic by the attacks of the mosquitoes and stinging flies that beset us by thousands, and could by no means be driven away, we contrived at length to reach soil firm enough to support our weight, and, some five minutes later, the solid ground itself. But, even now, our troubles were only half over; for after we had crossed the peninsula we still found it impossible to discover a spot from which the interior of the creek could be seen without laying out upon the roots of the mangrove trees that bordered the inner as well as the outer shore of the peninsula, the wearisome business of crawling and climbing had therefore all to be gone over again, with the result that the sun was close upon setting before we had reached a spot from which a clear view of the entire creek could be obtained. And then we had the unspeakable mortification of discovering that the expedition must result in failure; for, save a few canoes, the creek was innocent of craft of every description--_there were no slavers in it_! Moreover, the so- called town of King Olomba consisted only of about fifty miserable native huts in the very last stage of sordidness and dilapidation; and there was no sign that a slave barracoon had ever existed near the place. The captain stared across the water as though he found it quite impossible to believe his eyes. Then he drew the sketch map from his pocket and once more studied it attentively, muttering to himself the while. Finally he sat himself down upon a knot of twisted roots, with his back against the trunk of the tree, and, spreading the sketch wide open on his knee, beckoned me to place myself beside him. "Just come here and look at this map, Mr Fortescue," he said, and he spoke with the air and in the tones of a man who is so utterly dazed with disappointment that he begins to doubt the evidence of his own senses. "Just give me your opinion, will ye. I cannot understand this business at all. This map, although only a free-hand sketch, seems to me to be perfectly accurate. There, you see, is the mouth of the river, just as we found it; there are the little islets that we passed immediately after getting inside; there are the dry mud-banks; and there, you see, the river widens out, in precise accordance with our experience; here it narrows again at the bend; there is where the boats are lying concealed; and this," laying his finger upon a particular part of the sketch, "is the creek that we are now looking at; and there is the town of Olomba. It all seems to me to be absolutely correct. Does it not appear so to you?" "Certainly, sir," I answered. "The sketch answers in every particular to what we have seen since entering the river--answers to it so perfectly, indeed, that it might have been copied from a carefully plotted survey." "Exactly," assented the skipper. "Yet it is nothing of the kind; for with my own eyes I saw it drawn from memory by a man whom I happened to meet in one of the third-rate hotels in Freetown, which are frequented by the masters and mates of palm-oil traders and the like. I happened to hear him mention that he had been in and out of the Fernan Vaz at least a dozen times, in his search for cargo along the coast, so I waited until the people with whom he was talking had left him, and then I entered into conversation with him, finally inducing him to furnish me with this sketch." "And was it from him, sir, that you also obtained the information upon the strength of which you determined upon this expedition?" I asked. "Oh, no," answered the skipper. "I had that from quite a different source, in a very different kind of house. The people who told me about King Olomba's raid, and the plans laid by the slavers for carrying off the prisoners, were slavers themselves; and they told me of the scheme because they believed me to be the master of a slaver waiting for information from the Senegal river. The cream of the joke was that these fellows should have told me--_me_, the captain of the _Psyche_-- that the scheme had been carefully planned with the express object of putting the _Psyche_ upon a false scent and so getting her out of the way while the negroes were being shipped." "Yet there seems to have been something wrong somewhere, sir," I ventured to suggest. "But it is not with your map; that appears to be marvellously accurate for a mere free-hand sketch; there is no attempt at deception apparent there. This creek that we are looking at is undoubtedly the one shown on your map, and there is King Olomba's town, precisely in the position indicated on the sketch; the assumption therefore is that the man who drew the map for you was dealing quite honestly with you. The misleading information, consequently must, it appears to me, have come from the others; as indeed is the case, seeing that they led you to believe that you would find at least three or four large ships in the creek, whereas there are none." "That is perfectly true," concurred the skipper. "Yet I quite understood my informants to say that they were the persons who had formulated the scheme." "I suppose, sir," said I, giving voice to an idea that had been gradually shaping itself in my brain, "it is not possible that the people who were so singularly frank with you happened to recognise you as Captain Harrison of H.M.S. _Psyche_, and gave you that bit of information with the deliberate purpose of misleading you and putting you upon a false scent, in order that while you are searching for them here they may have the opportunity to carry out their scheme elsewhere? Their story may in the main be perfectly true, but if by any chance they should have happened to recognise you it would not be very difficult for them to substitute the name of the Fernan Vaz for that of some other river, and to mention King Olomba instead of some other king." "N-o-o," said the skipper dubiously; "it would not. Yet I cannot see why, if they had recognised me, they should have gone to the trouble of spinning an elaborate yarn merely to deceive me. It would have been just as easy for them to have knifed me, for there were seven of them, while I was quite alone. No, I don't quite see--" "Do you not, sir?" I interrupted with a smile. "I do. I see quite clearly two very excellent reasons why they did not resort to the rough and ready method of the knife. In the first place, these fellows attach a ridiculously high value to their own skins, and never seem to imperil them when an alternative will serve their purpose equally well; and although they were seven to one, if they really recognised you they would know perfectly well that, while the ultimate result of a fight would probably be in their favour, you would certainly not perish alone; and I suppose none of them were particularly anxious to accompany you into the Great Beyond. And, apart from that, they would know quite well that were the captain of a British man-o'-war to go a-missing there would be such a stir among their rookeries that soon there would be no rookeries left. Oh, no, sir! glad as they might be to put you quietly out of the way if they had the chance, depend upon it the last thing that they would dream of would be to attempt anything of the sort in Sierra Leone." "Well, well, well, perhaps you are right, young gentleman, perhaps you are right. You seem to have quite a gift for reasoning things out," replied the skipper, as he pocketed his map and hove himself up into a standing position. "But it is high time that we should get under way, for the sun is setting, and we shall have all our work cut out to find our road back to the boat. Do you think you will be able to find the gig, Cupid?" "Yes, I fit, sar," answered the Krooboy. "But we mus' make plenty haste; for dem darkness he come too much plenty soon, an' if we slip and fall into dem mud we lib for die one time." "Ay, ay," answered the skipper, with an involuntary shudder at the hideous fate thus tersely sketched by Cupid; "I know that, my lad, without any telling; so heave ahead as smartly as you like." And therewith we started upon our return journey with all speed; striding, leaping, slipping, and scrambling from root to root, Cupid leading the way, I following, and the skipper bringing up the rear, until at length we stood upon solid ground once more. But by this time not only had the sun set but the dusk was gathering about us like a curtain, while star after star came twinkling out from the rapidly darkening blue overhead, and the foliage of the trees that hemmed us in on every side was changing, even as we stood and watched while recovering our breath, from olive to deepest black. Now, too, we were beset, even more pertinaciously than before, by the myriads of mosquitoes, sand flies, gnats, and other winged biting creatures with which the islet swarmed; to say nothing of ants; indeed it almost seemed as though every individual insect upon that particular patch of soil and vegetation had scented us out and, having found us, was quite determined that we should never escape them alive. When presently we again began to move, it seemed impossible to take a single step without tripping over a land-crab's hole, or treading upon one of the creatures and hearing and feeling it crackle and writhe underfoot. Ugh! it was horrible. All these unpleasantnesses were sharply accentuated by the darkness, which fell upon us like a pall; for now the stars began to be obscured by great black clouds that came sweeping in from seaward, while the increasing roar and swish in the boughs overhead seemed to indicate that the wind was freshening. Progress was difficult enough, under such conditions, while we were traversing solid ground and had no special need to pick our footsteps; how would it be, I wondered, when it came to our re-crossing the belt of mangroves and mud that lay between us and the gig? Then, to add still further to our difficulties, the dank, heavy, pestilential fog that rises from the tropical African rivers at nightfall began to gather about us, and in a few minutes, from being bathed in perspiration from our exertions, we were chilled to the bone, with our teeth chattering to such an extent that we could scarcely articulate an intelligible word. "Plenty too much fever here come," remarked Cupid, while his teeth clattered together like castanets. "Sar, you lib for carry dem quinine powder dat dem doctor sarve out dis morning?" "Certainly, Cupid," jibbered the skipper. "M-m-many thanks for the hint. M-m-m-mister Fortes--ugh! t-t-take a p-p-pow-ow-der at once." I did so, and handed one to the Krooboy, who simply put it, paper and all, into his mouth, and swallowed the whole. Having done this, Cupid announced, as well as his chattering teeth would permit, that in view of the fog and the intense darkness it would be simply suicidal for us to attempt the passage of the mangroves without a light, and that therefore he proposed to make his way alone to the gig, not only to reassure her crew as to our safety, but also to procure a lantern. And he enjoined the skipper and me to remain exactly where we were until he should return. After an absence which seemed to be an age in duration, but which was really not quite three-quarters of an hour, he reappeared, accompanied by the coxswain of the boat and two other seamen, who brought along with them a couple of lighted lanterns. Thus reinforced and assisted, we got under way again, and eventually, after a most fatiguing and dangerous journey, reached the boat and shoved off into the stream. The gig was of course provided with a boat compass, and we knew the exact bearing of the spot where the other boats lay hidden; but we already knew also how complicated and confusing was the set of the currents in the river, and how hopeless would consequently be any attempt to find our friends in that thick fog. We therefore did not make the attempt, but, pushing off into the stream until we were clear of the mosquitoes and other winged plagues that had been tormenting all hands for so many hours, let go our anchor in one and a half fathoms of water, and proceeded to take a meal prior to turning-in for the night. Never in my life before, I think, had I spent so absolutely uncomfortable a night. What with the rats, cockroaches, fleas, and other vermin with which the ship was overrun, to say nothing of the complication of stenches which poisoned the atmosphere, the midshipmen's berth aboard the _Psyche_ was by no means an ideal place to sleep in, but it was luxury compared with the state of affairs in the gig. For aboard the _Psyche_ we at least slept dry, while in the boat we were fully exposed to the encroachments of that vile, malodorous, disease- laden fog which hemmed us in and pressed down upon us like a saturated blanket, penetrating everywhere, soaking our clothing until we were wet to the skin, chilling us to the very marrow, despite our greatcoats, so that we were too miserable to sleep; while it so completely enveloped us that, even with the help of half a dozen lanterns, we could not see a boat's length in any direction. As the foul water went swirling away past us great bubbles came rising up from the mud below, from time to time, bursting as they reached the surface, and giving off little puffs of noxious, vile-smelling gas that were heavy with disease-germs. Yet, singularly enough, when at length the morning dawned and the fog dispersed, not one of us aboard the gig betrayed the slightest trace of fever, although, among them, the other boats mustered nearly a dozen cases. Our first business, after once more joining forces, was to pull into the creek and call upon his Majesty, King Olomba; but, upon interviewing that potentate, through the medium of Cupid, who acted as interpreter, it at once became evident that our worthy skipper had been made the victim of an elaborate hoax--even more elaborate, indeed, than we at the moment expected; for the king not only vigorously disclaimed any propensity toward slave-hunting or slave-dealing, but went the length of strenuously denying that the river was ever used at all by slavers; also he several times endeavoured to divert the conversation into another channel by pointedly hinting at his readiness to accept a cask of rum as a present, to which hint the skipper of course turned a deaf ear. Then, having got out of the old boy all the information that we could extract--which, when we came to analyse it, amounted to just nothing--we carefully searched the bush in the neighbourhood of the town, to see if we could discover anything in the nature of a barracoon, but found no trace whatever of any such thing. Having drawn the creek blank, the skipper next determined to search a spot known as the Camma Lagoon, some twelve miles farther up the river; and, the sea-breeze having by this time set in, we stepped the masts and made sail upon the boats, creeping up the river close to its northern bank in order to dodge the current as much as possible. Upon reaching the lagoon we found it to be in reality a sort of bay in the north bank of the river, some five and a half miles long by about three and three-quarter miles wide, with an island in the centre of it occupying so large an extent of its area that at one spot the creek behind was barely wide enough to allow the passage of a vessel of moderate tonnage. The eastern extremity of this creek, however, widened out until it presented a sheet of water some two miles long by about a mile and a half in width, with a depth of water ranging from two to three fathoms. Furthermore, the island itself and the adjacent banks of the river were thickly wooded, affording perfect concealment, behind which half a dozen slavers might lurk undetected; and altogether it wore, as seen from the river, the aspect of an exceedingly promising spot. We therefore lowered the boats' sails, unshipped their masts, and, keeping a bright look-out all round us, pulled warily into the lagoon at its eastern extremity. For the first mile of our passage we detected nothing whatever of a suspicious character; but upon rounding the eastern extremity of the island and entering the widest part of the lagoon we sighted two large canoes paddling furiously up the creek, about a mile ahead of us. The captain at once brought his telescope to bear upon these craft, and with its aid discovered that each canoe was manned by about forty black paddlers, while the after end of each craft was occupied by some ten or a dozen men in European dress, most of whom appeared to be armed with muskets. These men had the appearance of being either Portuguese or Spaniards, and their presence in such a spot could mean but one thing, namely, that there was a barracoon somewhere near at hand. The skipper accordingly gave the order to chase the two canoes, to which the boats' crews responded with a cheer, and laid themselves down to their oars with such a will that they almost lifted the boats out of the water. But we had scarcely traversed a distance of half a dozen boats' lengths when, upon opening up a little indentation in the shore of the mainland, we saw before us a substantial wharf, long enough to accommodate two fair-sized craft at once, with a wide open space at the back of it upon which stood some eight or ten buildings, one of which was unmistakably a barracoon of enormous size. With another cheer the course of the boats was at once diverted toward the wharf; and we had arrived within less than a hundred yards of it when the deathlike silence which had hitherto prevailed ashore was pierced by a shrill whistle, in response to which the whole face of the bush bordering the open space at once began to spit flame, while the air around us hummed and whined to the passage of a perfect storm of bullets and slugs, among which could be detected the hum of round shot, apparently nine-pounders, the gig weathered the storm unscathed; but upon glancing back I saw that the other boats had been less fortunate, there being a gap or two here and there where a moment before a man had sat, while certain of the oars were at that moment slipping through the rowlocks to trail in the water by their lanyards a second later. Here and there, too, could be seen a man hastily binding up a wounded limb or head, either his own or that of a shipmate. The skipper sprang to his feet in the stern-sheets of the gig, and drew his sword. "Hurrah, lads!" he shouted. "Give way, and get alongside that wharf as quickly as you can. Then let every man run his hardest for the shelter of the buildings, carrying his musket and ammunition with him. One hand remain in each boat as boat-keeper, who must crouch down under the shelter of the wharf face. Mr Fortescue, stick close alongside me, please; I shall probably want you to carry messages for me." "Ay, ay, sir," I answered; and the next moment the voice of the coxswain pealed out: "Oars! rowed of all!" followed by the clatter of the long ash staves as they were laid in on the thwarts, and the gig, still leading the other boats, swept up alongside the low wharf and hooked on. With a yell of fierce delight, and eyes blazing with excitement, Cupid, the Krooboy, bounded up on the wharf, and extended one great black paw to assist the skipper, while in the other he grasped his favourite weapon, an axe, the edge of which he had carefully ground and honed until one could have shaved with it; in addition to which he wore a ship's cutlass girded about his waist. Moreover he had "cleared for action," by stripping off the jacket and shirt which he usually wore, and stowing them carefully away in the stern-sheets of the boat; so that his garb consisted simply of a pair of dungaree trousers rolled up above his knees and braced tight to his waist by the broad belt from which hung his cutlass. In a second the gig was empty save for her boat-keeper, and her crew were racing for the shelter afforded by the barracoon, where, as I understood it, the captain intended to announce his arrangements for clearing the enemy out of the bush. But when we had accomplished about half the distance between the edge of the wharf and the barracoon there came a sudden splutter of fire from the windows of the other buildings-- which were so arranged as to enfilade the whole of the open space--and in a moment we once more found ourselves in the midst of a storm of flying bullets. The skipper, who was a pace ahead of me, stumbled, staggered a pace or two, and fell headlong upon his face, where he lay still, while his sword flew from his grasp with a ringing clatter. At the same moment the two cutters dashed up alongside the wharf, and their crews came swarming up out of them, to be met by another murderous discharge from the enemy lurking in the bush. I came to a halt beside the skipper, and looked round me. A couple of yards away stood Cupid, who, it seemed, had just caught sight of the captain as he fell, and had pulled himself up short. "You, Cupid," I shouted, "come back here, sir, and lend me a hand to get the captain back into the gig." The fellow came, and stooping over the skipper's body raised it tenderly in his arms. "All right, Mistah Fortescue, sar," he said; "you no trouble. I take dem captain back to de gig by myself, and find Mistah Hutchinson," (the surgeon). "But it no good, sar; he gone dead. Look dere." And he pointed to a ghastly great hole in the side of the skipper's head, just above the left ear, where a piece of langrage of some description had crashed its way through the poor fellow's skull into his brain. It was a horrid sight, and it turned me quite sick for the moment, accustomed though I was by this time to see men suffering from all sorts of injuries. "Very well," I said; "take it--the captain, I mean--back to the gig, anyway, and do not leave him until you have turned him over to Mr Hutchinson; who, by the way, is in the launch, which I see is just coming alongside. I will find Mr Hutchinson and send him to you." And away I hurried toward the spot where I saw the launch approaching, for the double purpose of reporting to Mr Perry the news of the captain's fall, and dispatching the surgeon to see if life still remained in the body. The first luff was terribly shocked at the news which I had to tell him; from a distance he had seen the skipper fall, but had hoped that it was a wound, at most. But this was not the moment for unavailing regrets; the fall of the captain at once placed Perry in command and made him responsible for the fate of the expedition. He therefore gave orders for the guns which were mounted in the bows of the launch, pinnace, and first and second cutters to be cast loose and landed, the men not engaged in this work being placed under the command of the third lieutenant, with instructions to load their muskets and keep up a constant fire upon the windows of the various buildings. Then, as soon as the guns were landed, two of them were loaded with double charges of grape, for the purpose of clearing the bush of the hidden foe, while the remaining two were double shotted and then run close up to the barricaded doors of the buildings, which were thus blown in, one after the other. As each door was blown in the building to which it belonged was stormed; the enemy, however, contriving to effect an exit by the rear as our lads poured in at the front. In ten minutes the whole of the buildings were ours, without further casualties on our side; after which we set them on fire and, waiting until they were well alight, retired in good order to the boats, in which we hauled off far enough to enable us to effectively cover the burning buildings with our musketry fire and thus defeat any attempt to extinguish the flames. An hour later the entire settlement was reduced to a heap of smouldering ashes; whereupon we pulled away round to the main stream once more by way of the back of the island, in search of further possible barracoons, but found none. Our loss in this affair, considering its importance, was comparatively slight, amounting as it did to two killed--of whom one was the skipper-- and seven wounded. But we were a sorrowful party as we left the lagoon behind us and found ourselves once more in the main stream and on our way back to the ship; for Captain Harrison was beloved by everybody, fore and aft, and we all felt that we could better have spared any one else than him. CHAPTER FOUR. THE WRECK OF THE PSYCHE. Our journey down the river was a very different affair from that of our upward passage; for whereas in the latter we had been compelled to force our way against an adverse current, we now had that current favouring us; thus it came about that although the sun had passed the meridian when the boats emerged from the Camma Lagoon, after destroying the slave factory therein, it yet wanted an hour to sunset when the gig, still leading the rest of the flotilla, entered the last reach of the river and we once more caught sight and sound of the breakers beyond the bar. Mr Perry, the late first lieutenant, who now, by the death of Captain Harrison, had automatically become acting captain of the _Psyche_, had turned over the command of the launch to the master's mate, for the return passage, and was in the gig with me; and as we drew nearer to the river's mouth I noticed that he rose in the stern-sheets of the boat and glanced somewhat anxiously to seaward. For a full minute or more he stood gazing under the sharp of his hand out across the sandbank as it seemed to glide rapidly past us, its summit momentarily growing lower as the gig swept along toward the point where the dwindling spit plunged beneath the surface of the water, and, as he gazed, the expression of puzzlement and anxiety on his face rapidly intensified. By this time, too, his action and attitude had attracted the attention of those in the boats astern, and, glancing back at them, I saw that Nugent, in the launch, and Hoskins, the third lieutenant, in the pinnace, had followed his example. Naturally, I did the same, wondering meanwhile what it was at which they were all looking so intently, when Mr Perry suddenly turned upon me and demanded, almost angrily-- "I say, Mr Fortescue, what has become of the ship? D'ye see anything of her?" "The ship, sir?" I echoed dazedly--for, with the question, it had come to me in a flash that we ought by this time to be able to see at least the spars of the _Psyche_ swaying rhythmically athwart the sky out over the low sandbank, if she still lay at anchor where we had left her;--"the ship? No, sir, I confess that I can't see her anywhere. Surely Mr Purchase cannot have shifted his berth, for any reason? But--no," I continued, as the absurdity of the suggestion came home to me--"of course he hasn't; he hasn't enough hands left with him to make sail upon the ship, even if he were obliged to slip his cables." At that moment a hail of "Gig ahoy!" came from Nugent aboard the launch; and, glancing back at him, we saw him pointing at some object that had suddenly appeared on the ridge of the spit, away on our port quarter. It was a man, a white man, a seaman, if one might judge from his costume, and he was waving a large coloured handkerchief, or something of the kind, with the evident object of attracting our attention. While we still stood at gaze, wondering what this apparition could possibly mean, another man appeared beside him. "Down helm, and run the boat in on the bank," ordered our new skipper. "I must see what this means." "Flatten in, fore and aft, and stand by to let run your halyards!" ordered the coxswain, easing his helm down; and as he spoke I stepped upon the stern thwart with the object of getting a somewhat more extended view over the sandbank. But there was nothing to be seen-- stay! why was the spray from the surf flying so much higher in one particular spot than elsewhere? And that spot appeared to be about abreast of that part of the bank where the two men were standing. I stood a moment or two longer, seeking an explanation of the phenomenon, and then fell headlong over the man who was sitting upon the aftermost thwart gathering in the slack of the mainsail as the yard came down; for at that moment the gig grounded on the bank and shot a quarter of her length high and dry with the way that she had on her. As I picked myself up, rubbing my barked elbows ruefully, to the accompaniment of a suppressed snigger from the boat's crew, Mr Perry, with a brief "Make way, there, lads," sprang upon the thwarts and, striding rapidly from thwart to thwart, rushed along the length of the boat, placed one foot lightly on the gunwale, close to the stem head, and leaped out on to the sand, with me close at his heels. Together we raced for the crest of the spit; but even before we had reached it the terrible truth lay plain before us. For there, about a quarter of a mile to the southward of us, on the seaward side of the spit, lay the _Psyche_, hard and fast aground, dismasted, and on her beam-ends, with the surf pounding at her, and her spars and rigging, worked up into a raft, floating in the swirl alongside the beach; while on the shore, opposite where she lay, the little company that had been left aboard to take care of her laboured to save such flotsam and jetsam as the surf flung up within their reach. For a full minute the new skipper, thus by a cruel stroke of malicious fortune robbed of the command that had been his for such a few brief hours, stood gazing with stern, set features at the melancholy scene. Then he turned to me and said--very quietly-- "Mr Fortescue, be good enough to go down to Mr Hoskins, and request him, with my compliments, to take the boats back up the river until they are abreast the spot where the wreck lies, and there beach them; after which, leaving a boat-keeper to watch each boat, he will take the men over to the other side of the spit to assist in salving such matters as may come ashore. Having delivered this message, you will please join me yonder." And he pointed to where the little group of men were toiling on the beach. "Ay, ay, sir!" I answered. And, touching my hat, I turned and hurried down to the river bank, alongside which the other boats were now lying, with lowered sails, evidently awaiting orders. Meanwhile Mr Perry strode off over the ridge in the direction of the wreck. I quickly found Mr Hoskins and delivered my message, with the result that the entire flotilla pushed off again and headed up-stream, one of the men having landed upon the narrow spit and ascended to its ridge in order that he might notify the boats' crews when they should have arrived at the spot on the seaward side of which lay the wreck; while I, burning with curiosity to learn how the disaster had been brought about, hurried after the skipper. As he walked, while I ran, I managed to overtake him at the precise moment when Mr Purchase, who had been left by Captain Harrison in charge of the ship, met him at a little distance from the spot where the party of salvors were at work. "Mr Purchase," said the skipper, as the two men met and halted, "I deeply regret to inform you that Captain Harrison is dead--killed this morning, with one other, while gallantly leading us to the attack of a strongly defended slave barracoon. We have both bodies in the boats, yonder, and it was my intention to have buried them at sea to-night; but that, I perceive, is no longer possible. And now, sir, perhaps you will be good enough to explain to me how the _Psyche_ comes to be where I see her." "Ah, sir!" answered Mr Purchase, removing his hat and mopping his forehead in great perturbation of spirit, "I wish I could tell you. All I know--all that _any_ of us knows, so far as I have been able to ascertain--is that we were cut adrift--both cables, sir, cut through as clean as a whistle--and allowed to drive ashore!" "Cut adrift?" reiterated the captain incredulously. "_Cut adrift_? Really, my dear Purchase, you must excuse me if I say that I utterly fail to understand you. How the mischief could you possibly be cut adrift from where you were anchored; and by whom? You surely do not intend to insinuate that any one of the ship's company--?" "No--no; certainly not," interrupted Purchase. "Nothing of the kind. Let me tell you the whole yarn, Perry; then you will be as wise as myself, and can give me your opinion of the affair, which I admit is most extraordinary. "Nothing in the least remarkable occurred for some hours after the boats left the ship yesterday morning. I stood aft and watched you through the starboard stern port until you had all safely crossed the bar and disappeared behind the sand spit; and then I set the hands to work upon various small jobs; after which I went round the ship and satisfied myself that everything was perfectly safe and snug on deck and below. Then, feeling tolerably certain that you would not return until to-day at the earliest, and that consequently it would be necessary for me to be up and about during the greater part of the coming night, I went below and turned in all standing, to get as much sleep as possible, leaving the boatswain's mate in charge of the deck, together with midshipmen Keene and Parkinson. "The day passed quite uneventfully; everything went perfectly smoothly; the ship rode easily to her anchors; and there had been nothing to report. But about two bells in the first dog-watch I noticed that the sky was beginning to look a bit windy away down in the western quarter-- nothing to speak of, you understand, or to cause any uneasiness; but it made me take a look at the barometer, and I saw that it had dropped a trifle since eight bells; and at the same time the wind was distinctly freshening and the swell gathering weight. All this, of course, meant more wind within the next few hours; I therefore kept a sharp eye on the barometer; and when at four bells I found it still dropping I decided to let go the two stream anchors, as a precautionary measure, while we had light enough to see what we were doing; and this I did, at the same time paying out an extra fifty fathoms on each cable, after which I felt that we were perfectly safe in the face of anything short of a hurricane." The new skipper nodded his approval, but said nothing; and Purchase proceeded with his story. "Well, as you probably noticed, shortly after sunset the wind breezed up quite strongly; but I was not in the least uneasy, for the barometer had ceased to drop before eight bells, and, although the sky was overcast and the night very dark, there was nothing threatening in the look of the weather, and it was only occasionally that we really tautened out our cables. Still, I made up my mind to remain on deck all night, having had a good spell of sleep during the day. "As the night wore on and the wind held fresh but steady, I felt that after all I really need not have let go the streams, for the bowers alone would have held us quite easily against six times as much wind and sea as we had; you may therefore perhaps be able to picture to yourself my amazement and consternation when, a few minutes before six bells in the middle watch, I became aware that the ship was adrift and fast driving down toward the breakers!" "How did you discover that the ship was adrift? Did you feel her cables parting?" demanded the skipper. "No," answered Purchase; "we never felt anything of that kind; but I suddenly noticed that she was falling off and canting broadside-on to the wind and sea, so I knew at once that something was wrong--that in fact we had, in some incomprehensible way, struck adrift. I therefore sang out to Thompson, the boatswain's mate, to pipe all hands to make sail, intending to run her into the river, if possible. But by the time that we had got the mizzen and fore-topmast staysail upon her, and were loosing the main-topmast staysail, we were in the first line of breakers; and a moment later she struck heavily. Then a big comber came roaring in and broke over us, lifted us up, swept us shoreward a good twenty fathoms, and we struck again, with such violence this time that all three masts went over the side together. After that we had a very bad half-hour, for every roller that came in swept clean over us, carrying away everything that was movable, smashing the bulwarks flat, and hammering the poor old barkie so furiously upon the sand that I momentarily expected her to go to pieces under our feet. To add to our difficulties, it was so intensely dark that we could not see where we were; true, the water all round us was ablaze with phosphorescence, which enabled us to discern that land of some sort lay about a couple of cables' lengths to leeward of us, but it was quite indistinguishable, and the water between us and it was leaping and spouting so furiously that I did not feel justified in making any attempt to get the men ashore, especially as we were then being swept so heavily that we had all our work cut out to hold on for our lives. About half an hour later, however, the tide turned and began to ebb, and then matters improved a bit. "But it was not until daybreak that we were able to do anything really useful; and then all hands of us got to work and built a raft of sorts, after which we got up a good supply of provisions and water, sails to serve as tents, light line, and, in short, everything likely to be useful, and managed to get ashore without very much difficulty. But before I left the ship I had the cables hauled in through the hawse- pipes, and examined them most carefully. They were both unmistakably cut through--a clean cut, sir, evidently done with a sharp knife--at about the level of the water's edge." "Most extraordinary!" commented Perry. "And I presume nobody saw anything, either immediately before you went adrift or afterwards--no boat, or anything of that kind, I mean--to account for the affair?" "No," answered Purchase, "nothing. Yet I was not only wide-awake and on the alert myself, but I took care that the anchor watch should be so also; for I felt the responsibility of having such a ship as the _Psyche_ to take care of, with only twenty hands, all told, to help me." "Of course," agreed the skipper. "And did you succeed in getting everybody ashore safely?" "Yes, thank God!" answered Purchase fervently. "We are all safe and sound, and very little the worse for our adventure, thus far." "Ah! that at least is good news," remarked Perry. "Well," he continued, "there is one very melancholy duty demanding our immediate attention, Mr Purchase, namely, the interment of Captain Harrison and the other poor fellow who fell during the attack upon the barracoon to-day. I will see about that matter personally, by choosing a suitable spot and getting the graves dug, for we shall soon have the darkness upon us. Meanwhile, you will be good enough to get tents rigged and such other preparations made as may be possible for the comfort of all hands, and especially the wounded, during the coming night; for we have all had a very trying day, and it is imperative that we should secure a good night's rest. Mr Fortescue, come with me, if you please." Now, during the progress of the foregoing conversation the boat party had not been idle; for, as soon as the fact of the wreck had become known to them, Mr Hoskins, the third lieutenant, seeing how matters stood, had grappled with the situation by causing the guns, ammunition, and stores of all kinds to be landed from the boats, and the craft themselves to be hauled up high and dry upon the beach on the river-side of the sand spit; and then, leading his men over the ridge, to where the others were at work upon the salving of wreckage from the surf, he had detailed a party to pick out from among the pile of heterogeneous articles such things as were most needed to meet our more immediate wants, and carry or drag them up the slope to the spot which Henderson, the surgeon, had already selected as the most suitable spot for a camp. It was toward this party that Mr Perry and I now directed our steps; and when we had joined it the skipper, picking out a dozen of the most handy men, gave them instructions to provide themselves with tools of some sort suitable for the purpose of digging a couple of graves in the loose, yielding sand above the level of high-water mark; and while they were doing this, under my supervision, my companion wandered away by himself in search of a suitable site for the graves. As a matter of fact there was very little in the nature of choice, the entire spit, or at least that portion of it which we occupied, consisting of loose sand, sparsely covered, along the ridge and far a few yards on either side of it, with a kind of creeper with thick, tough, hairy stems and large, broad leaves, the upper surface of which bristled with hairy spicules about a quarter of an inch long. This plant, it was evident, bound the otherwise loose drifts and into a sufficiently firm condition to resist the perpetual scouring action of the wind; it was in this portion of the spit, therefore, that Mr Perry gave orders for the two graves to be dug; and presently my little gang of twelve were busily engaged in scooping out two holes, some twenty feet apart, to serve as graves. They were obliged to work with such tools as came to hand, and these consisted of splintered pieces of plank, the boats' balers, and some wooden buckets that had come ashore. Under such circumstances the task of excavation was distinctly difficult, the more so that the sand ran back into the holes almost as fast as it was scooped up and thrown out; but at length, by dint of strenuous labour, a depth of some three feet was reached just as the sun's rim touched the western horizon and flung a trail of blood athwart the tumble of waters that lay between. Then, the exigencies of the occasion admitting of no further delay, the task was suspended; all hands knocked off work; and, the bodies having meanwhile been enclosed in rough coffins very hastily put together by the carpenter and his mate, we all fell in; the gig's crew shouldered the late captain's coffin, while six of his mates acted as bearers to the other dead man; and, with Mr Perry leading the way and reading the burial service from a prayer-book, which it appeared he always carried about with him, we marched, slowly, solemnly, and bare-headed, up the slope of the sand spit to the spot which had been selected for the last resting-place of the dead. Arrived there, the two coffins were at once deposited in their respective graves, when the new captain, standing between the two holes, somewhat hurriedly completed the ritual--for the light was fading fast; whereupon, after bestowing a final parting glance at the rough, uncouth box which concealed our beloved chief's body, we all turned slowly and reluctantly away to retrace our steps back to the apology for a camp which was to shelter us for the night, leaving a fresh party of workers to fill in the graves. In neither arm of the British fighting service do men unduly dwell upon the loss of fallen comrades, for it is quite justly held that the man who yields up his life in the service of his country has done a glorious thing, whether he falls in a pitched battle deciding the fate of an empire, or in some such obscure and scarcely chronicled event as the attack upon a slave factory. He is, where such is possible, laid in his last resting-place with all the honourable observance that circumstances permit, and his memory is cherished in the hearts of his comrades; but whether his fame pass with the echo of the last volley fired over his grave, or outlives the brass of the tablet which records his name and deeds, there is no room for grief. Wherefore, when we got back to camp and had made the best possible arrangements for the coming night, there was little reference in our conversation to the tragic events of the past twenty-four hours; Mr Perry took up the reins of government, and matters proceeded precisely as they would have done had Captain Harrison been still alive and among us. Our "camp" was, naturally, an exceedingly primitive affair; our living and sleeping quarters consisting simply of sails cut from the yards and stretched over such supports as could be contrived by inserting the lower ends of spars or planks in the sand and lashing their upper ends together. These structures we dignified with the name of "tents." The exigencies of the situation did not permit of the observance of such nice distinctions of rank in the matter of accommodation as exist under ordinary conditions, it therefore came about that we of the midshipmen's berth were lodged for the night in the same tent as the ward-room officers, and consequently we heard much of the conversation that passed between them, particularly at dinner. This meal--consisting of boiled salt beef and pork, with a few sweet potatoes, and a "duff" made of flour, damaged by sea water, with a few currants and raisins dotted about here and there in it--was served upon the _Psyche's_ mizzen royal stretched upon the bare sand in the centre of our "tent"; and we partook of it squatted round the sail cross-legged on the sand, finding the way to our mouths by the light of four ship's lanterns symmetrically arranged one at each corner of the sail. Naturally enough, Mr Purchase--now ranking as first lieutenant _vice_ Mr Perry, acting captain--having told the tale of the happenings which had resulted in our becoming castaways, was anxious to hear full particulars of what had befallen the boat expedition; and this Mr Perry proceeded to relate to him as we sat round the "table." When he had finished there was silence for a moment; then Purchase looked up and said-- "Don't you think it very strange that your experiences throughout should have accorded so ill with the information that Captain Harrison acquired at so much trouble and personal risk? Hitherto it has always happened that such information as he has been able to pick up has proved to be accurate in every particular." "Yes," agreed Mr Perry, "it has. I've been thinking a good deal about that to-day; and the opinion I have arrived at is that Harrison played the game once too often, with this result--" and he waved his right hand comprehensively about him, indicating the tent, the makeshift dinner, and our condition generally. "What I mean is this," he continued, in reply to Purchase's glance of inquiry. "The poor old _Psyche_, as we all know, was a phenomenally slow ship, yet her successes, since she came on the Coast, have been greater and more brilliant than those of any other vessel belonging to the squadron. And why? Because she had a trick of always turning up on the right spot at the right moment. Now it seems to me that this peculiarity of hers can scarcely have escaped the notice of the slave- trading fraternity, because it was so very marked. I imagine that they must often have wondered by what means we gained our information; and when at length the thing had become so unmistakable as to provoke both conjecture and discussion it would not take them long to arrive at a very shrewd suspicion of the truth. When once the matter had reached this stage discovery could not possibly be very long delayed. Captain Harrison was undoubtedly a well-known figure in Sierra Leone; he was of so striking a personality that it could not be otherwise, and I am of opinion that at length his disguise was penetrated. He was recognised in one of those flash places in Freetown that are especially patronised by individuals of shady and doubtful character; and a scheme was devised for his and our undoing which has succeeded only too well. In a word, I believe that the whole of the information upon which he acted when arranging this most unfortunate expedition was carefully fabricated for the express purpose of bringing about the destruction of the ship, and was confided to him by some one who had recognised him as her captain. I believe, Purchase, that you were cut adrift last night, either by the individual who spun the yarn, or by some emissary or emissaries of his who have a lurking-place somewhere in this neighbourhood; and, if the truth could be got at, I believe it would be found that the schooner which we saw come out of this river on the day before yesterday--and which the captain was led to believe was a decoy intended to draw us off the coast--was actually chock-full of slaves!" "By Jove!" ejaculated Purchase. "What a very extraordinary idea!" "I don't think so at all," cut in Hoskins, before Mr Perry could reply. "It may seem so to you, Purchase, because it has just been presented to you, fresh and unexpectedly, as it were. But when we arrived at King Olomba's town yesterday morning, and found neither slaves nor barracoon there, I must confess that I was visited by some such suspicion as that of which Captain Perry has just been speaking, although in my case it did not take quite such a concrete and connected form. To my mind there is only one thing against your theory, sir," he continued, turning to the skipper, "and that is the existence of the factory on the lagoon." "Yes," agreed the captain, "I admit that to be somewhat difficult to account for. And yet, perhaps not so very difficult either; because if the fellows who gave Captain Harrison the information upon which he acted happened to have a grudge against the owners of that factory they would naturally be more than glad if, while groping about in search of the imaginary slavers and barracoon, we should stumble upon the real thing and destroy it. All this, however, is mere idle conjecture, which may be either well founded or the opposite; but there is one indisputable fact about this business, which is--unless Mr Purchase is altogether mistaken, which I do not for a moment believe--that the _Psyche_ was last night cut adrift from her anchors and wrecked by somebody who must have a lurking-place in this immediate neighbourhood; and I intend to have a hunt for that somebody to-morrow." CHAPTER FIVE. THE BATTLE OF THE SAND SPIT. As the evening progressed it became evident to me that our new captain had developed a very preoccupied mood; he fell into long fits of abstraction; and often answered very much at random such remarks as happened to be addressed to him. He appeared to be turning over some puzzling matter in his mind; and at length that matter came to the surface and found expression in speech. "Mr Purchase," he said, "I have been trying to put two and two together--or, in other words, I have been endeavouring to find an explanation of the puzzle which this business of the wreck of the _Psyche_ presents. I can understand quite clearly that poor Captain Harrison was deliberately deceived and misled by certain persons in Sierra Leone in order that the ship might be cast away. But why _here_ particularly? For if my theory be correct that the supposed decoy schooner actually sailed out of this river with a full cargo of black ivory, there must certainly be a barracoon somewhere close at hand from which she drew her supplies; and the people who planned the destruction of the sloop could scarcely have been so short-sighted as to have overlooked the fact that such a happening would leave us here stranded in close proximity to a slave factory which, presumably, they would be most anxious should remain undiscovered by us. That is the point which I cannot understand; and I have come to the conclusion that my theory with regard to the schooner must be altogether wrong, or there must be something else in the wind--that, in short, the wreck of the sloop is only a part instead of the whole of their plan." "But what about the barracoon which you destroyed to-day, sir?" asked Purchase. "Might not that be the place from which those fellows draw their supplies of slaves?" "It might, of course," admitted the skipper; "but, all the same, I do not believe it was. For the people who supplied Captain Harrison with false information would surely know enough of him and his methods to be certain that, failing to find anything in the nature of a slave factory at King Olomba's town, we should not leave the river again until we had thoroughly explored it; and if they knew the river at all they would also know that the factory on the Camma Lagoon could scarcely be overlooked by us. No; in my own mind I feel convinced that the factory which we destroyed to-day was not the one in which those fellows are interested; there is another one somewhere in the river; and I will not leave until I have discovered and destroyed it. But that only brings me back to the point from which I started, and once more raises the question, Why did they cast us away within a few miles of this other factory which I am persuaded exists? Is it that the place is so strongly fortified that they are confident of our inability to take it? Or is there something else at the back of it all, of which we have not yet got an inkling?" Purchase shook his head hopelessly. "Upon my word, sir," he answered, "it is quite impossible for me to say. When you come to put the matter like that it becomes as inexplicable as a Chinese puzzle. What is your own opinion?" "I haven't been able to form one at all," answered the skipper. "But the matter is puzzling enough to convince me that it would be folly on our part to assume that the casting away of the ship is the beginning and ending of the adventure; therefore we will neglect no precautions, Mr Purchase, lest we find ourselves landed in an even worse predicament than our present one. Our first and most important precaution must be to maintain a strict watch throughout the night. It need not be a very strong watch, but it must be a vigilant one; therefore each watch will be kept under the supervision of an officer who will be responsible for the vigilance of the men under him. Moreover, all hands must see that their muskets and pistols are loaded and ready for instant action; for it would not be a very difficult matter to surprise this camp of ours sometime during the small hours. Just come outside with me and let us take a look round." The result of the above conversation and the "look round" was an arrangement that the night was to be divided into five watches of two hours each, beginning at eight o'clock in the evening and ending at six o'clock in the morning; each watch to consist of twelve men, fully armed, who were to act as sentries, half of them being detailed to watch the river in the neighbourhood of the boats, while the other half kept watch and ward over the land approach to our encampment, being stretched across the narrow isthmus in open order from the water's edge on the river-side to that on the sea-side. Each watch was commanded by an officer, with a midshipman under him; and the general orders were to fire a single shot at the first sign of anything of an alarming character, and then retire upon the camp, if an attack should threaten to cut off the outpost from the main body. The first watch was taken by the captain, with me for his subordinate; and I was given the command of the party of six guarding the shore approach to the camp, while the skipper took the party mounting guard near the boats, as it was his opinion that if danger threatened it was most likely to come by way of the river. My instructions were to march my men out to a distance of not more than two cables' lengths from the camp, and there take such cover as might be possible. At first sight it did not appear that there was the least bit of cover of any description available, for the spit or peninsula on which we were encamped was just bare sand for a distance of fully a mile from the spot whereon our camp was pitched, and then there began a growth of scrubby bush which gradually became more dense as one proceeded in a southerly direction; but I solved the difficulty by causing each man to scoop a little pit for himself in the loose sand, in which it was easy for him to crouch perfectly concealed particularly as there was no moon, and the light from the stars was not strong enough to reveal objects at a distance much beyond a quarter of a mile. The first, second, and third watches passed uneventfully; but the fourth watch was little more than half through when--about a quarter after three o'clock in the morning--the whole camp was roused from its slumbers by the sound of musket-shots, one from the party guarding the boats and the river approach, quickly followed by three in rapid succession from the contingent that occupied the sand pits stretched across the neck of the peninsula. Then three or four more shots from the river party spurted out, and it began to dawn upon us that the matter threatened to be serious. Of course none of us had thought of discarding any of our clothing that night, the second shot therefore had scarcely pealed out upon the night air before we in the camp were upon our feet, with our weapons in our hands, and all drawn up in regular array ready for the next move in the game, with the skipper in command. "Where are Mr Fortescue and Mr Copplestone?" demanded the captain, looking about him, as soon as the first momentary bustle was over. "Here I am, sir," answered I, stepping forward and mechanically touching my hat; and "Here I am, sir," answered Tom Copplestone, suddenly appearing from nowhere in particular. "Mr Fortescue," ordered the captain, "take to your heels and run out to Mr Nugent as fast as you can; ascertain from him the reason for the firing from his party; ask him whether he requires any assistance; and then return to me with his reply as quickly as possible. Mr Copplestone, you will run down to the boats with a similar message to Mr Marline." Away we both went, as fast as we could lay legs to the ground, Copplestone down-hill toward the river beach, and I along the sand spit, making upward gradually toward the ridge as I ran. Running in that fine, heavy sand was, however, horribly exhausting work, especially to one whose only mode of taking exercise was to stump the lee side of the quarter-deck during his watch, and I was soon so completely blown that, with the best will in the world to hurry, I was brought to walking pace. But before I had made twenty fathoms from my starting-point two more shots rang out from the party by the boats, and a moment later one of the boat guns began to speak. I looked out over the river, striving to discover what the disturbance was about, and thought I could dimly make out several dark blurs on the faintly shimmering surface of the water, which I conjectured must be canoes, but I could not be sure; meanwhile my business was not with them, whatever they were, but with Nugent and his party, from whom, as I struggled along, two more musket-shots cracked out almost simultaneously. Then, down by the river-side, a second shot roared from a boat gun, and this time before the ringing report of the piece died away I distinctly heard a crash followed by loud shrieks and much splashing out somewhere on the surface of the river. A few seconds later, panting and gasping for breath, I staggered up to a figure which I had made out standing upright and motionless on the crest of the spit, and found it to be Nugent, with his drawn sword tucked under his right arm while with both hands he held his night glass to his eye. "Who goes there?" he demanded sharply, wheeling round and seizing his sword as he heard the noise of my panting behind him. "Friend!" I answered. "The sk---captain desires to know why you are firing, out here, and whether you require any assistance." "Oh! is that Fortescue? All right. Just take my night glass, will you, and sweep the face of the spit carefully at about two hundred yards distance from here. Then tell me if you can see anything," answered Nugent. "And, if it comes to that, why are the others firing, down by the boats?" "Can't say for certain," I answered, as I took the proffered night glass and raised it to my eye, "but I believe some suspicious canoes or boats have hove in sight, and they are just giving them a hint to keep their distance." "Ah! just so," returned Nugent. "Now _we_ are firing because, although we can't be absolutely certain in this darkness, we think that there is a body of men out there who would be not altogether disinclined to rush the camp, if we gave them the opportunity; so we are just potting at them--or what we fancy to be them--whenever we get a clear enough sight of them, just as a hint that we are awake. But as to assistance--n-no, I don't think we need any, at least not at present. Should we do so, later on, I will blow a blast on this whistle of mine." And he produced from his pocket a whistle possessing a particularly shrill and piercing note, with which he had been wont to summon Cupid to the midshipmen's berth aboard the _Psyche_, when that individual's presence had been needed with especial urgency. "Well, d'ye see anything?" he demanded, after I had been peering through his glass for a full minute or more. "I am really not at all certain whether I do, or not," I answered, still working away with the glass. "I thought, a moment or two ago, that I caught sight of something in motion for an instant, but it is so abominably dark, as you say, that--but stay a moment, what is that dark mass out there stretching across the ridge? I don't remember having noticed anything there before nightfall." "Dark mass?" reiterated Nugent; "what dark mass d'ye mean? There is nothing out there, so far as I--" "By Jingo! but there is, though, sir; I can see it myself now, wi' the naked eye!" exclaimed a seaman who was crouching in a sand pit a yard or so distant from where Nugent and I were standing. "There, don't ye see it, Mr Nugent, stretchin' athwart the back of the spit? Why, I can make it out quite distinctly." "Give me the glass," demanded Nugent, snatching the instrument from me and applying it to his eye. For some eight or ten seconds he peered intently through the tube, then exclaimed excitedly-- "Ah, now I have it. Yes, by Jove, Fortescue, you are right, there _is_ something out there; and it looks like--like--ay, and it _is_, too--a body of blacks creeping along toward us on their stomachs! Why, there must be hundreds of 'em, by the look of it; they reach right across the spit! Yes, we shall certainly want help, and plenty of it, to keep those fellows at arm's length. I thought it was only some twenty or thirty when I first made them out. Yes, cut away to the skipper, Fortescue, as hard as you can pelt; tell him what you've seen; and say that I shall be obliged if he will kindly send me as many men as he can spare. That disturbance down by the boats seems to have ceased, so he ought to be able to send us a pretty strong reinforcement." "All right," I said; "I'll tell him, and then comeback with the men." And away I went back through the heavy sand at racing pace, and delivered my message. The captain listened patiently to my breathless and somewhat disconnected story, and then turned to Mr Purchase, who was standing close at hand, and said-- "Mr Purchase, have the goodness to take the entire port watch, and go out to Mr Nugent's assistance. But do not allow your men to fire away their ammunition recklessly, for we have very little of it. Let no man pull trigger until he is quite certain of hitting his mark." "Ay, ay, sir!" answered Purchase. "Port watch, follow me." And away he and his following trudged into the darkness. I was making to join them, but the skipper happened, unfortunately, to see me, and called me back. "No, no, Mr Fortescue," he said; "you and Mr Copplestone will please remain with me. I may want one or both of you to run messages for me presently." So we remained. But I at once ranged up alongside Copplestone, for I was anxious to hear the news from Marline, down by the boats. "Well, Tommy," I said, "what was old Marline blazing away at? Whatever it was, he managed to hit it, for I heard the smash." "Yes," answered Copplestone. "But it was more a case of luck than of good shooting, for it is as dark as a wolf's mouth. Some of his men, however, had eyes keen enough to see that there was a whole flotilla of boats, or canoes, or something of that sort, hovering in the river and manoeuvring in such a fashion as to lead to the suspicion that they had designs upon our boats, so he dosed them with a few charges of grape, which caused them to sheer off `one time,' as Cupid is wont to remark. What was the row with Nugent?" "Lot of niggers creeping along the spit on their stomachs toward him," I answered. "Got some idea of rushing the camp for the sake of the plunder in it, I expect. But now that Mr Purchase and the port watch have gone out to back him up I think we need not--hillo! that sounds like business, though, and no mistake." My ejaculation was caused by a sudden cracking off of some six or eight muskets, one after the other, closely followed by a heavy if slightly irregular volley, and the next instant the air seemed to become positively vibrant with a perfect pandemonium of shrieks, howls, yells, and shouts as of men engaged in close and desperate conflict. The skipper pricked up his ears and clapped his hand to his sword-hilt; then he turned to where Tommy and I were standing close beside him. "Mr Copplestone," he said, "take twenty men--the first you can pick-- and go with them to support Mr Marline, for I fancy he will need a little help presently. The rest of us are going out to support Mr Purchase and Mr Nugent." "Ay, ay, sir," answered Tommy. He picked out the first twenty men he could lay hands on and taarched them off to join Mr Marline's "picnic," as he expressed it, and the rest of us went off at the double to take part in the scrimmage that was proceeding in the neighbourhood of the sand pits. And a very pretty scrimmage it was, if one might judge from the tremendous medley of sounds that reached us from that direction. The firing was now very irregular and intermittent, but there was plenty of yelling and shrieking mingled, as we drew nearer to the scene of the fray, with sounds of gasping as of men engaged in a tremendous struggle, quick ejaculations, a running fire of forecastle imprecations, the occasional sharp order of an officer to "Rally here, lads!" dull, sickening thuds as of heavy blows crashing through yielding bones, and here and there a groan, or a cry for water. It was evident that the fight had resolved itself into a desperate hand-to-hand struggle; and it seemed to me that our lads were being hard put to it to hold their own. But the worst feature of the whole affair, to my mind, was that the darkness was so intense that it was almost impossible to distinguish friend from foe. We reached the scene of the struggle so much sooner than I had expected that it was impossible to avoid the conclusion that our people were being steadily forced back in the direction of the camp; and this I afterwards found to be correct; but the appearance of the skipper with his reinforcements soon put another face upon the matter. It was evident that the foe--consisting of some hundreds of negro savages had been under the impression that they were fighting the entire strength of the British, but when we came up they at once discovered their mistake, which, with the knowledge that, for aught they could tell, there might be further reinforcements waiting to take a hand in the game, somewhat damped their courage. Not by any means at once, however; indeed it was not for perhaps two or three minutes after our appearance upon the scene that the first actual check upon their advance occurred. For they appeared to number seven or eight to every one of us, and moreover they were all picked warriors in the very prime of life, brave, fierce, determined fellows, every one of them, and well armed with spear, shield, war-club, and, in some cases, a most formidable kind of battle- axe. "Spread out right and left, and cut in wherever you can find room," ordered the skipper as we plunged, stumbling and gasping, into the midst of the fray. And there was no difficulty in obeying this order; for, narrow as the sand spit was, it was yet too wide for Mr Purchase and the port watch to draw a close cordon across it; there were gaps of a fathom or more in width between each of our men, and those gaps were rapidly widening as some poor wretch went down, transfixed by a broad- bladed spear, was clove to the shoulder by the terrific blow of an axe, or had his brains dashed out by a war-club. But as our contingent arrived each man chose an enemy--there was no difficulty in doing that-- and pulled trigger upon him, generally bringing him down, for we were too close to miss; after which it became literally a hand-to-hand fight, some using their discharged muskets as clubs while others flung them away and trusted to their cutlasses, and one or two at least--for I saw them close alongside me--depended entirely upon the weapons with which nature had provided them, first dealing an enemy a knock-out blow with the clenched fist and then dispatching him with one of his own weapons. As for me, I still had the brace of pistols and the cutlass with which I had provided myself when setting-out upon our ill-starred boat expedition up the river, and I made play as best I could with these, bowling over a savage with each of my pistols and then whipping out my cutlass. For a time I did pretty well, I and those on either side of me not only holding our ground but actually beginning to force the enemy back; but at length a huge savage loomed up before me with his war-club raised to strike. My only chance seemed to be to get in a cut or a thrust before the blow could fall, and I accordingly lunged out at his great brawny chest. But the fellow was keen-eyed and active as a cat; he sprang to one side, avoiding my thrust, and at the same instant brought down his club upon my blade with a force that shattered the latter like glass and made my arm tingle to such an extent that for the moment at least I was powerless in the right arm. Then, quick as thought, he swung up the huge club again, with the evident determination to brain me. Disarmed and defenceless, I did the on'y thing that was possible, which was to spring at his great throat and grip it with my left hand, pressing my thumb hard upon his wind-pipe. But I was like a child in his hands; he shook me off with scarcely an effort; and as I went reeling backward I saw his club come sweeping down straight for the top of my head. At that precise instant something seemed to flash dully before my eyes in a momentary gleam of starlight, a sharp _tchick_ came to my ears, a few spots of what felt like hot rain spattered in my face, and the great savage, his knees doubling beneath him, reeled backward with a horrible groan and crashed to the sand, with Cupid's axe quivering in his brain, while the club, flying from his relaxed grasp, caught me on the left forearm, which I had instinctively flung up to defend myself, snapping the bone like a carrot, and then whirling over and catching me a blow upon the head that stretched me senseless. But before I fell I had become conscious that through the distracting noises of the fight that raged around me I could hear the sound of renewed firing spluttering out from the direction of the boats. When my senses returned to me the day was apparently some three or four hours old, for the shadows of certain objects upon which my eyes happened to fall as I first opened them were, if anything, a trifle shorter than the objects themselves, which was a sure indication that the sun stood high in the heavens. I was lying, with a number of other people, in the large tent-like structure which the ward-room officers had used on the preceding evening; and Hutchinson, the ship's surgeon, was busily engaged in attending to the hurts of a seaman who lay not far from me. This was the first general impression that I gained of my surroundings with the recovery of consciousness; the next was that my left arm, which was throbbing and burning with a dull, aching pain from wrist to shoulder, was firmly bound up and strapped tightly to my body, and that my head, which also ached most abominably, was likewise swathed in bandages. I was parched with thirst, which was increased by the sound of a man drinking eagerly at no great distance from me, and, turning my head painfully in the direction of the sound, I saw Jack Keene, a fellow-mid., administering drink out of a tin pannikin to a man whom I presently recognised as Nugent, the master's mate, who, poor fellow, seemed to be pretty near his last gasp. "Jack," I called feebly, "you might bring me a drink presently, when you have finished with Nugent, will you? How are you feeling, Nugent? Not very badly hurt, I hope." I saw Nugent's lips move, as though attempting to answer me, but no sound came from them, while Keene, glancing towards me, shook his head and laid his finger upon his lips as a sign, I took it, that I should not attempt to engage the poor fellow in conversation. "All right, Fortescue," he said, in a low voice, "I'll attend to you in a brace of shakes." He laid Nugent's head very gently back upon a jacket which had been folded to serve as a pillow, and then, refilling the pannikin from a bucket which stood close at hand, he came to me. "Feeling bad, old chap?" he asked, as he raised my head and placed the pannikin to my lips. I emptied the pannikin before attempting to reply, and then said-- "Not so bad but that I might easily be a jolly sight worse. Bring me another drink, Jack, there's a good boy; that was like nectar." "Ah; glad you enjoyed it," was the reply. "But you'll have to wait a spell for your next drink; Hutchinson's orders to me are that water is to be administered to you fellows very sparingly, as it is drawn from the river and is probably none too wholesome. What are your hurts?" "Broken arm and a cracked skull, so far as I know," I answered. "What's the matter with poor Nugent?" I added, in a whisper. "He looks as though he is about to slip his cable." Jack nodded. "Yes, poor chap," he whispered. "No chance of his weathering it. Ripped open by one of those broad-bladed spears. Can't possibly recover. Well, I must go and look after my other patients; I'm acting surgeon's mate, you know." "Surgeon's mate!" I ejaculated. "Why, you surely don't mean to say that Murdoch has been bowled over, too, do you?" "No; not so bad as that," answered Jack. "He's away with the rest in the boats. The skipper's gone to pay a return visit to those fellows who beat up our quarters last night. And now I really must be off, you know. Go to sleep, if you can; it will do you all the good in the world." Go to sleep! Yes, it was excellent advice, but I did not seem able to follow it just then; the throbbing and aching of my arm and the racking pain of my sore head were altogether against it, to say nothing of the continuous groaning and moaning of the injured men round about me, and the occasional sharp ejaculations of agony extorted from the unfortunate individual who happened at the moment to be under the surgeon's hands. So, instead, I looked about me and endeavoured to form some idea of the extent of our casualties during the past night. Judging from what I saw, they must have been pretty heavy, for I counted twenty-three wounded, including myself, and I realised that there might be others elsewhere, for the tent in which we lay was full; there did not seem to be room enough for another patient in it without undue crowding. And even supposing that we comprised the sum total of the wounded, there must have been a large proportion of dead in so desperate an affair as that of the past night. I estimated that in so obstinately contested a fight as that in which we had all sustained our injuries, and against such tremendous odds as those which were opposed to us, there must have been at least half as many dead as wounded, which would make our casualties up to thirty-five; a very heavy percentage out of a crew that, owing to various causes, was already, before this fresh misfortune, growing short-handed. When to these came to be added the casualties sustained on the preceding day in the attack upon the barracoon, it seemed to me that our new captain would have little more than a mere handful of men available for service on this fresh expedition upon which he had embarked--for I did not suppose that he had gone off taking with him every sound man and leaving the camp and the wounded entirely unprotected and exposed to a renewed attack by the savages. After about an hour's absence Jack came back to me again and gave me another draught of water, which so greatly refreshed me that the excitement and uneasiness under which I had been labouring since his first visit gradually subsided, my aches and pains grew rather more tolerable; my thoughts grew first more placid and then gradually more disconnected, wandering away from the present into the past and to more agreeable themes, my memory of past incidents became confused, and finally I slept. I must have slept some three or four hours; for when I awoke it was undoubtedly afternoon; Hutchinson had completed his gruesome labours and was sitting not very far away entering some notes in his notebook, and a few of the less seriously wounded were sitting up partaking of soup or broth of some kind out of basins, pannikins, or anything of the kind that came most handy. The sight of these people refreshing themselves reminded me that I was beginning to feel the need of food, and I called out to the doctor to ask if I might have something to eat and drink. He at once rose up and came to me, felt my pulse, looked at my tongue, and prescribed a small quantity of broth, which Jack Keene presently brought me, and which I found delicious. I may here mention that several days later I became aware that this same broth--the origin of which puzzled me at the moment, though not enough to prevent me from taking it--had been prepared from a kind of tortoise, the existence of which in large numbers on the spit Hutchinson had accidentally discovered that very morning, and in pursuit of which he had sent out two of the most slightly wounded with a sack, and instructions to catch and bring in as many of the creatures as they could readily find. While I was taking my broth the worthy medico stepped to where Nugent was lying and bent over the poor fellow, feeling his pulse and watching his white, pain-drawn face. Then, rising softly, he went into a dark corner of the tent, where, it appeared, his medicine-chest was stowed away, and quickly prepared a draught, which he brought and held to the lips of the patient, tenderly raising the head of the latter to enable him to drink it. Then, having replaced the sufferer's head upon the makeshift pillow, he bent over and murmured a few words in the dying man's ear. What they were I know not, nor did I catch Nugent's response, but the effect of the brief colloquy was that Hutchinson drew from his pocket a small copy of the New Testament and, after glancing here and there at its opened pages, finally began to read, in a clear voice and very impressively, the fifteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians, reading it through to the end. As he proceeded I saw poor Nugent slowly and painfully draw up his hands, that had lain clenched upon the sand beside him, until they were folded upon his breast in the attitude of prayer. And when at length Hutchinson, with a steady voice, but with the tears trickling down his cheeks, reached the passage, "But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory," Nugent's lips began to move as though he were silently repeating the words. The chapter ended, Hutchinson remained silent for a few moments, regarding his patient, who he evidently believed was praying. Suddenly Nugent's eyes opened wide, and he stared up in surprise at the canvas roof over his head as though he beheld some wonderful sight; the colour flowed back into his cheeks and lips, and gradually his face became illumined with a smile of ecstatic joy. "Yes," he murmured, "thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory--_the victory_--victory!" As he spoke his voice rose until the final word was a shout of inexpressible triumph. Then the colour ebbed away again from cheeks and lips, a film seemed to gather over the still open eyes, the death-rattle sounded in the patient's throat, he gasped once, as if for breath, and then a look of perfect, ineffable peace settled upon the waxen features. Nugent's gallant soul had gone forth to join the ranks of the great Captain of his salvation. CHAPTER SIX. WE FIND NEW QUARTERS. It was about half an hour after Nugent's death that young Parkinson, who had been engaged somewhere outside the tent, came in and said to Hutchinson-- "The launch, under sail, and with only about half a dozen hands in her, has just hove in sight from somewhere up the river. None of the other boats seem to be in company, but as she is flying her ensign at the peak,"--the launch, it may be mentioned, was rigged as a fore-and-aft schooner--"I suppose it's all right." "It is to be hoped so," fervently responded the medico; "goodness knows we don't want anything further in the nature of a disaster; we've had quite enough of that sort of thing already. Could you distinguish the features of any of the people in the boat?" "No, sir," answered the lad. "I hadn't a glass with me. Is there such a thing knocking about anywhere here in the tent, I wonder?" "Yes," answered Hutchinson. "You will find Mr Nugent's somewhere about. It was picked up and brought in by the fatigue-party this morning. You might take it, if you can find it, and see if you can distinguish an officer in the boat. The glass ought to be somewhere over there." Parkinson went to the spot indicated, and proceeded to rummage among the heterogeneous articles that had been recovered from the scene of the previous night's fight, and soon routed out the instrument of which he was in search, with which he went to the opening of the tent, from which the launch was by this time visible. Applying the telescope to his eye, he focussed it upon the fast-approaching boat and stared intently through the tube. "Yes," he said at length, "I can make out Mr Purchase in the stern- sheets, with Rawlings, the coxswain, alongside of him; and there is Cupid's ugly mug acting as figure-head to the boat. The beggar is grinning like a Cheshire cat--I can see his double row of ivories distinctly--so I expect there is nothing much the matter." Presently, from where I was lying, the launch slid into view, coming down-stream at a great pace under whole canvas, and driven along by a breeze that laid her over gunwale-to. She was edging in toward our side of the river; and as I watched her movements, her crew suddenly sprang to their feet, apparently in obedience to an order; her foresail and mainsail were simultaneously brailed up at the same moment that her staysail was hauled down, then her helm was put up and she swerved inward toward the beach, upon which she grounded a minute later. Then Mr Purchase rose to his feet, sprang up on the thwarts, and, striding from one to the other, finally sprang out upon the beach, up which, followed by Cupid, he made his way toward our tent. A couple of minutes later he stood in the entrance, waiting for his eyes to accustom themselves to the comparative darkness of the interior. "Well, doc.," he exclaimed cheerily, "how have things been going with you to-day?" "Quite as well as I could reasonably have expected, taking all things into consideration," answered Hutchinson. "Poor Nugent has passed away--went about half an hour ago--but the rest of the wounded are doing excellently. How have things gone with you, and where are the others?" "Left them behind busily preparing quarters for you and your contingent," answered Purchase. "We have had a pretty lively time of it, I can tell you, since we left here this morning. Searched both banks of the river for a dozen miles or more, exploring creeks in search of the gentry who attacked us from the river last night, and who undoubtedly put the savages up to the shore attack upon the camp, and eventually found them snugly tucked away in a big lagoon about twelve miles from here, the entrance of which is so artfully concealed that we might have passed it within a hundred fathoms and never suspected its existence. Splendid place it is for carrying on the slave traffic; large open lagoon, with an average of about fifteen feet of water everywhere; fine spacious wharf, with water enough for ships to lie alongside; two spanking big barracoons; and a regular village of well- built houses; in fact, the finest and most complete slave factory that I've ever seen. Well-arranged defences, too; battery of four nine- pounders; houses loop-holed for musketry; and a garrison of about a hundred of the most villainous-looking Portuguese, Spaniards, and half- breeds that one need wish to meet. They were evidently on the look-out for us--had been watching us all day, I expect--and opened a brisk fire upon us the moment that we hove in sight. Luckily for us their shooting was simply disgraceful, and we managed to effect a landing, with only two or three hurt. But then came the tug-of-war. The beggars barricaded themselves inside their houses, and blazed away at us at short range, and then, of course, our people began to drop. But Perry wouldn't take any refusal; landed the boat guns, dragged them forward, and blew in the doors, one after the other, stormed the houses, and carried them in succession at the sword's point. After that it was all plain sailing, but very grim work, doc, I can tell you; our people had got their blood up, and went for the Dagoes like so many tigers. It lasted about a quarter of an hour after we had blown the doors down, and I don't believe that more than a dozen of the other side escaped. Of course we, too, suffered heavily, and there are a lot of fresh cases waiting for you, but Murdoch is working like a Trojan. And now I have come to fetch you and your contingent away out of this; there is a fine, big, airy house that Murdoch has turned into a hospital, where the wounded will be in clover, comparatively speaking; so, if you don't mind, we'll get to work at once and shift quarters before nightfall." No sooner said than done. As I had surmised, a party of twenty unwounded men, under the boatswain, had been left behind by the skipper to look after the camp when he had gone away early in the morning, and these men were now called in to convey the most seriously wounded down to the launch, while the less seriously hurt helped each other; and in this way the whole of the occupants of the camp were got down to the launch and placed on board her in about twenty minutes. Then Hutchinson caused his medicine-chest to be taken down to the boat, together with such other matters as he thought might be useful; and, lastly, poor Nugent's body was taken down and reverently covered over with the ship's ensign, which had been saved, laid on a rough, impromptu platform on the thwarts amidships--the other poor fellows who had fallen in the fight had been buried before the setting-out of the boat expedition, I now learned. A final look round the camp was then taken by Purchase and Hutchinson; a few more articles that were thought worth preserving from possible midnight raiders were brought down; and then we got under way and stood up the river, keeping in the slack water as much as possible, in order to cheat the current. It was within an hour of sunset when Purchase, who had been standing up in the stern-sheets of the boat, intently studying the shore of the right bank of the river for some ten minutes, gave the order to douse the canvas and stand by to ship the oars; and as he did so he waved his hand to the coxswain, who put down his helm and sheered the boat in toward what looked like an unbroken belt of mangroves stretching for miles along the bank. But as the launch, with plenty of way on her, surged forward, an opening gradually revealed itself; and presently we slid into a creek, or channel, some two hundred feet wide, the margins of which were heavily fringed with mangroves, and at once found ourselves winding along this narrow passage of oil-smooth, turbid water, in a stagnant atmosphere of roasting heat that was redolent of all the odours of foetid mud and decaying vegetation. This channel proved to be about a mile long, and curved round gradually from a north-easterly to a south-easterly direction, ending in a fine spacious lagoon about eight miles long by from three to four miles wide at its widest point, arrived in which we once more felt the breeze and the sails were again set, the boat heading about south-east, close-hauled on the port tack, toward what eventually proved to be an island of very fair size, fringed with the inevitable mangroves, but heavily timbered, as to its interior, with magnificent trees of several descriptions, among which I distinguished several very fine specimens of the _bombax_. Handsomely weathering this island, with a few fathoms to spare, and standing on until we could weather a small, low-lying island to windward of us on the next tack, we then hove about and stood for the northern shore of the lagoon, by that time some five miles distant, finally shooting in between the mainland and an island nearly two miles long, upon which stood the slave factory that our lads had captured earlier in the day. The whole surface of this island, except a narrow belt along its southern shore, had been completely cleared of vegetation; and upon the cleared space had been erected two enormous barracoons and, as Purchase had said, a regular village of well-constructed, stone-built houses raised on massive piers of masonry, and with broad galleries and verandahs all round them, evidently intended for the occupation of the slave-dealers and their dependants. A fine timber wharf extended along the entire northern side of the island, with massive bollards sunk into the soil at regular intervals for ships to make fast to; half a dozen trunk buoys occupied the middle of the fairway; and the whole settlement was completely screened from prying eyes by the heavy belt of standing timber that had been left undisturbed on the southern shore of the island. I had thought that the factory on the Camma Lagoon represented the last word in the construction of slave-dealing establishments; but this concern was quite twice as extensive, and more elaborately complete in every respect. By the time that we invalids were landed it was close upon sunset, and under Purchase's guidance we were all conducted up to the largest house in the place, where, in one of the rooms, Murdoch was still hard at work attending to the batch of patients that were the result of that day's work. We, the new arrivals, however, were shepherded into another room, where fairly comfortable beds were arranged along the two sides, and into these beds the worst cases were at once put and turned over to Murdoch's care, while Hutchinson promptly pulled off his coat and took up Murdoch's work in what might be termed the operating-room. I, however, was not considered a bad case, and was accordingly placed in another smaller room, or ward, along with about half a dozen others in like condition with myself. While these arrangements were proceeding, a fatigue-party had been busy at work in a secluded spot chosen by the skipper, at some distance from the houses; and before we, the wounded, had all been comfortably disposed of for the night, the dead Nugent included--were laid to rest with such honourable observance as the exigencies of the moment would permit. The casualties in this last affair were, of course, by no means all on the British side; we had suffered pretty severely in the three affairs in which we had been involved since the departure of the boat expedition from the ship, our total amounting to eleven killed and twenty-six wounded; but the losses on the part of the enemy had been very considerably greater, their dead, in this last fight alone, numbering nineteen killed, while thirty-three wounded had been hurriedly bestowed in one of the houses, to be attended to by the surgeons as soon as our own people had been patched up; thus Hutchinson and Murdoch were kept busy the whole of that night, while Copplestone, Keene, and Parkinson-- the three uninjured midshipmen--were impressed as ward-attendants to keep watch over our own wounded, and administer medicine, drink, and nourishment from time to time. It was a most fortunate circumstance for all hands that this last factory had been discovered and captured; for we were thus provided with cool, comfortable living quarters, instead of being compelled to camp out on the exposed beach opposite the wreck; and to this circumstance alone may be attributed the saving of several of the more severely wounded, to say nothing of the fact that we now occupied a position which could be effectually defended from such attacks as that to which we had been exposed on the spit during the previous night. Moreover, it relieved the captain of a very heavy load of anxiety, since, but for the fortunate circumstance of this capture, he would have had no alternative but to have continued in the occupation of our makeshift camp on the spit, it being impossible for him to undertake a boat voyage to Sierra Leone with so many wounded on his hands. It is true that he might have sent away the launch, with an officer and half a dozen hands, to Sierra Leone to summon assistance; but his ambition was not to be so easily satisfied. We had done splendid service in capturing two factories and destroying one of them--the second would also, of course, be destroyed when we abandoned it--but the loss of the _Psyche_ was a very serious matter, which must be atoned for in some shape or another; and he soon allowed it to be understood that he was in no particular hurry to quit our present quarters, where the wounded were making admirable progress, and the sound were comfortably housed, while provisions of all kinds were plentiful and the water was good. But this, excellent as it was in itself, was by no means all; with two such perfectly equipped factories as we had found upon the river it was certain that the slave traffic on the Fernan Vaz must have assumed quite formidable proportions; and it was the skipper's idea that before our wounded should be lit to be moved, one or more slavers would certainly enter the river, when it would be our own fault if we did not capture them. The most careful dispositions were accordingly made, with this object in view; the gig, in charge of an officer, was daily dispatched to the entrance of the lagoon in order that, herself concealed, her crew might maintain a watch upon the river and report the passage of any vessels upward-bound for the Camma Lagoon, while, so far as our own quarters were concerned, everything was allowed to remain as nearly as possible as it was before it fell into our hands, in order that, should a slaver arrive at the factory, there should be nothing about the place to give the alarm until it should be too late for her to effect her escape. As a final precaution, a sort of crow's-nest arrangement was rigged up in a lofty silk-cotton tree which had been left standing in the screening belt of timber along the southern shore of the island, in order that a look-out might be maintained upon the approach channel during the hours of daylight, and timely notice given to us of the approach of slavers to the factory of which we were in occupation. A full week elapsed from the date of our desperate fight on the sand spit, with no occurrence of any moment save that, thanks to the skill and indefatigable exertions of Hutchinson and Murdoch, all our wounded were doing remarkably well, two or three of them, indeed, having so far recovered that they were actually able to perform such light duty as that of hospital ward-attendants; while the unwounded had been kept perpetually busy at the scene of the wreck, salving such matters as were washed ashore, and transferring everything of any value to our quarters. Meanwhile, the ship had parted amidships, and was fast going to pieces, so that our labours in that direction were coming to an end, and in the course of another week or two there would be nothing more than a rib showing here and there above water, and a few trifles of wreckage scattered along the beach to tell to strangers the story of our disaster. The enemy's wounded also, who were sharing with us the attentions of the surgeon and his mate, were doing well upon the whole, although there had been some half a dozen deaths among them, and there were a few more, whose hurts were of an exceptionally severe character, with whom the issue still remained doubtful. It chanced that among these last there was a negro who seemed gradually to be sinking, despite the utmost efforts of Hutchinson to save him; and this individual, named M'Pandala, had latterly evinced a disposition to be friendly and communicative to Cupid, our Krooboy, who had been told off for hospital duty in the house occupied by the enemy's wounded; and at length--it was on the tenth day of our occupation of the island, and I was by this time well enough to be out and about again, although still unable to do much on account of my disabled arm--this negro made a certain communication to Cupid which the latter deemed it his duty to pass on to me without loss of time. Accordingly, on the evening of that day, after Cupid had been relieved--he was on day duty--he sought me out and began-- "Mr Fortescue, sar, you know dem M'Pandala, in dere?" pointing with his chin toward the house in which the wounded man was lodged. "No, Cupid," I answered. "I cannot truthfully say that I enjoy the honour of the gentleman's acquaintance. Who and what is he?" Cupid grinned. "Him one Eboe man," he answered, "employed by dem Portugee to cook for and look after dem captain's house. He lib for die, one time now; and 'cause I been good to him, and gib him plenty drink when he thirsty, he tell me to-day one t'ing dat I t'ink de captain be glad to know. He say dat very soon--perhaps to-morrow or next day, or de day after--one big cauffle of slabe most likely comin' here for be ship away from de coas'; and now dat he am goin' to die he feel sorry for dem slabe and feel glad if dem was set free." "Whew!" I whistled. "That is a bit of news well worth knowing--if it can be relied upon. Do you believe that the fellow is telling the truth, Cupid?" "Cartain, Mr Fortescue, sar," answered the Krooboy, with conviction. "He lib for die now; what he want to tell me lie for? He no want debbil to come after him and say, `Hi, you M'Pandala, why you tell dem white men lie about slabe cauffle comin' down to de coas'? You come along wid me, sar!' No, he not want dat, for cartain." "When did he tell you this, Cupid?" I demanded. "'Bout two hour ago," answered Cupid. "He say to me, `Cupid, I lib for die to-night, and when you come on duty to-morrow you find me gone. So I want to tell you somet'ing now, before it too late.' And den he tell me de news, Mr Fortescue, sar, just as I tell it to you, only in de Eboe language, which I understand, bein' well educate." "All right," said I. "In that case you had better come with me at once to the captain, and we will tell him the yarn. The sooner he hears it the better. Did he tell you where the cauffle was coming from, and which way?" "He say," answered Cupid, "dat dem cauffle am comin' down from de Bakota country, where 'most all de slabe sent from dis place come from; and dere is only one way for dem to come here, t'rough de bush ober de oder side ob de water. Den dey bring dem across to de island in dem big flat-bottom punt dat lay moored up by de top end ob de wharf." We found the captain in the store with Mr Futtock, the boatswain, overhauling the various articles salved from the wreck, and as soon as he had seen all that he desired, and was ready to leave the building, I got hold of him and repeated the yarn that Cupid had spun to me, the Krooboy confirming and elaborating my statement from time to time as I went on, and answering such questions as the skipper put to him. When at length we had brought the yarn to an end the captain stood for some minutes wrapped in deep thought, and then said-- "This is a very valuable piece of information that you have managed to pick up, Cupid: and if it should prove to be well founded I will not forget that we owe it to you. It is too late now, Mr Fortescue, to do anything in the matter to-night, for it will be dark in less than half an hour; but the first thing to-morrow morning you and Cupid here had better take the dinghy, pull across to the mainland, and endeavour to find the road by which the cauffle will come--there ought not to be very much difficulty in doing that, I should think. And, having found it, it will be well for the pair of you to proceed along the road on the look- out for some suitable spot at which to ambush the party, after which the rest should be easy. There is, however, another matter that needs consideration. How are we to ascertain the precise moment at which to expect the arrival of the slave-dealers? Because it will be hardly desirable to take a party out, day after day, and keep them in the bush all day waiting for the cauffle to come along. We are all doing excellently well here; but two or three days spent in the bush would very possibly mean half the party being down with fever." Here Cupid, bursting with pride and importance at finding himself, as it were, a member of a council over which the captain was presiding, struck in-- "You jus' leabe dat to me, sar. Suppose you gib me leabe to go, I take ration for, say, free day, and go off by myself into de bush to meet dem cauffle. Dhen when I hab met dem I soon find out when dem expec' to arribe here, and I come back and tell you." The skipper regarded the black doubtfully. "But," he objected, "if you fall in with them, my man, the traders are as likely as not to shoot you; or, if not that, at least to seize you and chain you on to the cauffle. Then how could you let us know when to expect the beggars?" "No fear ob dat, sar," answered Cupid with a grin. "I shall take care dat dem do not know I, Cupid, am anywhere near dem. Dem shall neber suspec' my presence, sar; but I shall be dere, all de same, and shall take partikler care to hear eberyt'ing dat dem say, so dat we may know exactly when to expec' dem. And when I hab learned dat piece of information, I shall hurry back so as to let you know as early as possible. I don' t'ink dat dere is much fault to find wid dat plan, sar." "No," answered the skipper, smiling at the black's eagerness and excitement, "provided, of course, that you are quite confident of your ability to carry it through." "You trust me, sar; I'll carry it through all right, sar," answered Cupid, in huge delight at being specially entrusted by the skipper with this mission. "You hab but to gib me leabe to go, and I will undertake to carry out de enterprise to your entire satisfaction." "Very well," said the skipper, now struggling manfully to suppress his inclination to laugh outright at the man's high-flown phraseology; "let it be so, then. Mr Fortescue, I leave it with you to arrange the matter." And he turned away. On the following morning, Cupid having called me at daylight, I snatched a hasty breakfast of cocoa and biscuit, and then wended my way to the wharf, where the Krooboy, in light marching order, with three days' rations--which he proposed to supplement on the way, if necessary--tied up in a gaudy bandana handkerchief, awaited me in the dinghy. Scrambling down into the boat with some circumspection--for my broken arm, although knitting together again nicely, was still rather painful at times, and very liable to break again in the same place if treated roughly--I took my place in the stern-sheets, whereupon Cupid, giving the little cockle-shell a powerful thrust off from the wharf wall, threw out the two tiny oars by which the boat was usually propelled, and proceeded with long powerful strokes to row across to the mainland, at this point a bare half-mile distant. As we went the black informed me that, with the view of ascertaining a few additional items of information of which he had thought during the night, he had looked into the ward wherein his friend M'Pandala had been lodged, but had discovered, as he indeed more than half feared, that the Eboe had quietly slipped his moorings during the night and passed on into his own particular "happy hunting grounds." But he added cheerfully that, after all, it really did not greatly matter; he would probably be able to obtain the required information in some other way. Arrived at the other side of the inlet, it became necessary for us to search the shore for the spot at which the bush road debouched, and this we eventually found with some difficulty, for, like everything else connected with the factory, it had been very carefully arranged with the object of screening it from casual observation. But once discovered, our difficulties in that respect were at an end, for we found that it ran down into a tiny indentation in the shore, just sufficiently spacious to accommodate two of the large flats or punts at a time, with firm ground, sloping gently down into the water, affording admirable facilities for the rapid embarkation of large numbers of people. Hauling the dinghy's stem up on this piece of firm sloping ground, and making fast her painter to a convenient tree, as a further precaution, Cupid and I set out along the firm, well-beaten path, some six feet in width, which had been cleared through the dense and impenetrable bush that hemmed us in on either hand, tormented all the while by the dense clouds of mosquitoes and other stinging and biting insects that hovered about us in clouds and positively declined to be driven away. We walked thus about a mile and a half when we came out upon an open space, some ten acres in extent, through which the path ran. This cleared space had evidently been caused by a bush fire at no very distant date, for a few charred trunks and portions of trunks of trees still reared themselves here and there; but the undergrowth had all been burned away down to the bare earth, and was now springing up again, fresh and green, in little irregular patches, all over the open area. The spot would serve admirably for an ambuscade, for while it was sufficiently open to permit of straight shooting, there was cover enough to conceal a hundred men, or more, at need. But what made the place especially suitable for our purpose was the fact that away over in one corner of the clearing there grew a thick, dense belt of wild cactus, newly sprung up, fresh, tough, and vigorous, every leaf being thickly studded with long, strong, sharp spikes growing so closely together that nothing living would dare to face it, or attempt to force a passage through it--or, at all events, if they should be foolhardy enough to try it once they would not attempt it a second time. It immediately occurred to me--and Cupid promptly corroborated my view--that if our party could but find or make a way in behind this belt of cactus, they would be at once in a natural fort from which it would be impossible to dislodge them, and after further careful investigation a passage was found through the bush by which our lads could easily gain access to the interior of the cactus fort, and hold it against all comers. There was therefore no need to search farther; the place was admirably adapted to our requirements; and, once satisfied of this, I bade Cupid proceed on his way in quest of the approaching cauffle, while I leisurely wended my way back to the dinghy and, with a single oar thrown out over the stern, sculled myself back to the factory. CHAPTER SEVEN. LA BELLE ESTELLE. My first act upon my return was, of course, to report the result of my reconnaissance to the captain, who, after hearing what I had to say, came to the conclusion that he would personally inspect the spot which I had selected as the scene of the proposed ambuscade; and accordingly, ordering the second cutter to be manned, we pushed off, taking Mr Hoskins with us, and towing the dinghy, which was to be left on the other side for the convenience of Cupid, upon that individual's return. When we at length reached the place the skipper was so pleased with it that he at once determined to set a strong party to work upon it, partly to keep the hands employed--there being by this time very little to do at the factory--and partly that the necessary preparations might be completed at the earliest possible moment. Accordingly he gave Hoskins, who was to have charge of the working-party, the most elaborate instructions as to how to proceed and what to do. The work was put in hand that same day; and when Hoskins and his party returned to quarters that night the former reported that the whole of the work absolutely necessary to insure the success of the ambuscade had been done, and that only about another hour's work, on the following day, was required to complete the whole of what the skipper had ordered. The next day, accordingly, the party crossed to the mainland to complete the preparation of the ambuscade, returning, in good time for dinner, with the report that all was now done, and that the spot was ready for occupation at a moment's notice. As it happened, it was just as well that we had acted with such promptitude and expedition, for the men were still engaged upon their mid-day meal when Cupid was seen returning in the dinghy. The fellow had evidently travelled fast and far, for he was smothered in dust, and so done up that he could scarcely drag one leg after another--there is nothing that puts one out of walking condition more quickly than being pent up for long periods on board a ship. But, despite his fatigue, he was puffed up with pride and importance, for he had accomplished the mission upon which he had been despatched, and in a very satisfactory manner, too. His report was to the effect that he had travelled at a good pace all through the preceding day, and that at nightfall, while still plodding forward, keeping his eyes wide open, meanwhile, on the look-out for a suitable camping spot, he had suddenly detected in the air a smell of burning wood and dry leaves, and, proceeding cautiously a little further, had become aware of a low, confused murmuring, as that of the voices of many people, together with a brisk crackling sound which he at once recognised as that of camp fires. A minute or two later, having meanwhile taken cover, he sighted the camp, which proved to be, as he had of course expected, that of the slave-traders and their unhappy victims. The caravan, or "cauffle," had just camped for the night, and its members were busily engaged in preparing the evening meal, Cupid was therefore able to approach the camp closely enough to catch a great deal of the conversation of the slave-traders, as well as to make a pretty accurate guess at their number and that of their victims. Later on he was able to ascertain the exact number of the former, which totalled eighty-two, while the slaves he estimated to number from a thousand to fifteen hundred. Maintaining his concealment, but steadily working his way ever closer to the camp fire, the Krooboy ultimately wriggled himself into a position so close to the spot where the chiefs of the band had seated themselves that he was able without difficulty to catch every word spoken by them; and although his knowledge of the Spanish and Portuguese languages was exceedingly limited, yet by listening patiently to everything that was said during the somewhat dilatory progress of the meal, and afterwards while the leaders smoked and chatted prior to turning-in for the night, he was able to gather that the remaining distance of the journey was to be divided into three marches, the last of which was to bring the party to the shore of the lagoon pretty early in the afternoon of the day following that of Cupid's return to us. Then, having learned this, the Krooboy had waited until the leaders of the expedition had bestowed themselves for the night, and the occupants of the camp generally were settling to rest after the hot and toilsome march of the past day, when he cautiously left his place of concealment and, mingling with the unhappy captives, had contrived to communicate to several of them the joyful news that in due time, and upon their arrival at a certain spot already fixed upon, the cauffle would be ambuscaded and the dealers and escort attacked and captured, after which the slaves would be released and supplied with food and water to enable them to return to their homes. He did this, he said, not only to comfort and encourage them but also to put them on their guard against falling into a panic at the critical moment and getting themselves hurt. The skipper listened very carefully to this story, cross-examined the narrator upon several points, and then dismissed him to get food and rest. That same afternoon the captain, accompanied, as before, by Lieutenant Hoskins, again visited the place of ambush, and presumably made final arrangements for the capture of the cauffle, but what they were I did not know, for I was left behind, with Tompson, the gunner, in charge of the factory, with instructions to overhaul our stock of arms and ammunition, and see that everything of that kind was made perfectly ready for the next day's work. When the next day arrived and all hands were mustered for inspection prior to the choosing of the ambuscading party, I learned to my disgust that I was to be left behind, with the other invalids, to look after the factory, Hutchinson having reported that I was not yet fit for duty, although, like a full dozen others who had been hurt in one or another of our recent fights, I was able to be up and about, and to attend to matters not requiring the use of both arms. But the slave-traders were known to be, as a general rule, determined fellows, and it was certain that, in the present case, with such a rich haul in their possession, they would fight desperately in defence of their booty. The skipper therefore determined to take only sound men with him, concluding that "lame ducks" would be more of a hindrance than a help to him. With envious eyes I watched the departure of the skipper and his party-- in three boats, namely, the launch and the first and second cutters--and then walked moodily away from the wharf to perform a duty inspection of the sick wards. The place wore an unnaturally quiet and deserted look, as I crossed the great open space between the wharf and the building which we had converted into a hospital; for there was nobody about excepting a round dozen or so of convalescents, well enough to sit out on the gallery under the shade of the verandah, and the solitary watcher, perched aloft in the crow's-nest which we had rigged among the topmost branches of one of the most lofty trees on the island, in order to maintain a watch upon the lagoon, and give us timely notice of the approach of a slaver. Sauntering quietly along, for the heat was already intense, I entered the hospital building and proceeded with the usual daily inspection of the wards, which I found were to-day in Murdoch's charge, Hutchinson having been detailed to accompany the skipper's party. The invalids were all doing excellently, thanks, no doubt, in a great measure, to the fine, airy room in which they had been bestowed; some, indeed, were so far advanced toward recovery that Murdoch had given three or four of them permission to leave their beds and go into the open air for an hour or two, and these were now assisting each other to dress. I completed my rounds, both of this building and also of that in which the wounded prisoners were lodged, and was just leaving the latter when I caught sight of one of the convalescents hurrying toward me at a great rate, in the full glare of the sunshine, in direct defiance of the medico's standing order that none of them were on any account to leave the shadow of the verandah. But this man had a very excellent excuse for his breach of the rules, for the moment that he saw me he first took off his hat and waved it to attract my attention, and then flourished it in the direction of the look-out tree, glancing toward which I caught sight of the fluttering fragment of scarlet bunting which was the prearranged signal that a slaver had entered the lagoon and was approaching the factory! A moment later the look-out himself, having descended the tree, came hurrying along to make his report. "Well, Edwards," I exclaimed, as the man came bustling up to me, and saluted, "I see you have made the signal that a slaver is approaching. What sort of a craft is she; and how far off?" "She's a very tidy and smart-looking brig, sir, measurin' close upon three hundred ton, by the look of her; and she's headin' straight for the eastern end of this here island, clewin' up and furlin' as she comes. She was under topsails and to'ga'nts'ls when I shinned down out of the crow's-nest, yonder; and I reckon she'll reach the anchorage in about another twenty minutes or so," reported the man. "Very good," I answered. "Now, go back to your look-out, and put that piece of red bunting out of sight as quickly as possible; for if those slaver fellows should happen to catch sight of it they may suspect something and be on their guard; which won't do; for, with only a few convalescents to help me, our sole chance of capturing them lies in the use of stratagem." Then, as the man turned away and hurried back to his post, I crossed the open space between the wharf and the buildings, and, giving the convalescents instructions to arm themselves at once and to stand by to show themselves when called upon, I entered my own quarters and hastily shifted from my uniform into a somewhat soiled suit of "whites" and a pith hat that had doubtless once been the property of one of the former inhabitants of the place--and which I had appropriated in view of some such contingency as the present--and otherwise made such preparations as were possible for the suitable reception of our expected visitors. We had only just barely completed our preparations when the strange brig, under topsails and fore-topmast staysail, came sweeping round the eastern extremity of the island, bracing sharp up as she did so and making a short "leg" athwart the anchorage, toward the mainland. Then, tacking very smartly, even under such short canvas as she was showing, she headed well up for the line of buoys which had been laid down as moorings, and, splendidly handled, presently came up head to wind, settling away both topsail-yards to the caps as she did so, and, while her crew clewed up the topsails and hauled down the staysail, glided, with the way which she still had on her, up to the weathermost buoy, to which a hawser was promptly run out and made fast. Then, as about a dozen hands climbed into the fore and main rigging and made their leisurely way aloft for the purpose of rolling up the topsails, a light, handsome gig was dropped into the water from the starboard quarter davits and presumably hauled alongside the gangway; but this I could not see, as she was presenting her port broadside to us--which, by the way, I noticed, was garnished with five grinning twelve-pounders. She was a most beautiful vessel, lying long and low upon the water, her hull painted all black, from her rail to her copper, relieved only by a single narrow white stripe running along her sheer-strake from her white figure-head to the rather elaborate white scroll-work that decorated her quarter. She was grandly sparred, with very heavy lower-masts, long mastheads, painted white, very taunt topmasts, topgallant and royal- masts, stayed to a hair, with a slight rake aft, and accurately parallel, and enormously long yards. The French ensign floated lazily from the end of her standing gaff. As I stood under the shade of the verandah, admiring this sea beauty, the gig came foaming round under her stern, propelled by four oarsmen, and with a white-clad figure in the stern-sheets, and headed toward the wharf, alongside a flight of steps in which she presently ranged, and hooked on. Then the white-clad figure in the stern-sheets rose and, leisurely climbing the steps to the level of the wharf, revealed itself as that of a man somewhat over middle height, broadly built, with hair, beard, and moustache of raven black, and a skin tanned almost to the colour of that of a mulatto by long exposure to sea-breezes and a tropical sun. His age I roughly estimated as somewhere about forty. With a swaggering sea roll he came striding across the wide arid space between the wharf side and the buildings, puffing at a big black cigar as he walked, and glancing about him curiously, as though he could not quite understand the utter quietude and deserted aspect of the place. Apparently, however, this was not sufficiently marked to arouse his suspicion, for he betrayed no hesitation as he made straight for the house under the broad verandah of which I stood in full view, watching his approach. As he came within speaking distance he slightly raised his broad-brimmed pugaree-bound Panama hat, for a moment, exclaiming, in execrable Spanish: "Good-morning, senor! what has happened that I see nobody about? And where is Senor Morillo? I would have speech with him." Raising my hat in reply, I answered, in the same language: "I deeply regret to inform you, senor, that Morillo is indisposed--down with a slight attack of fever, in fact; and, as for the rest, they are away in the bush on the other side, whither they have gone to help bring in the cauffle which is due to arrive this afternoon. But will you not step in out of the sun?" "Thanks!" answered the stranger, ascending the gallery steps. "I am sorry to hear of my friend Morillo's indisposition. A _slight_ attack of fever, I think you said. Is he too ill, think you, to talk business? If not, you will perhaps have the extreme kindness to tell him that Captain Lenoir of _La Belle Estelle_ has arrived and would like to see him." "Assuredly I will, senor," I answered politely. "Pray step inside here, out of the heat, and be seated, while I convey your message to Senor Morillo." So saying, I flung open the door of an inner room, and stood aside for him to enter. Quite unsuspectingly he stalked in through the open door, removed his hat and laid it upon the table, flung himself into a basket-chair, and, withdrawing an enormous silk pocket-handkerchief from his pocket, proceeded to mop the streaming perspiration from his forehead. At the same moment I whipped a loaded pistol from my pocket, aimed straight at his left eye, and, as he stared at me in amazement, said-- "You are a dead man, Captain Lenoir, if you move so much as a muscle. You are my prisoner, senor. No,"--as I saw by the expression of his eye that he had it in his mind to suddenly spring upon and disarm me--"not a movement, I pray you. To attempt what you are thinking of would be fatal, for upon your slightest motion I will pull the trigger and blow your brains out; I will, as surely as that you are sitting there." Then, slightly raising my voice, I called-- "Collins, bring your party into this room; and do not forget to bring along that length of ratline that I told you to have ready." "Ay, ay, sir," answered Collins; and the reply was followed by the shuffling sound of several pairs of feet, the owners of which came shambling into the room the next moment, with naked cutlasses in their hands, while one of them carried, in addition, a length of some three or four fathoms of ratline. Meanwhile, I had never for the smallest fraction of a second withdrawn my gaze from Captain Lenoir's eyes, or allowed the barrel of my pistol to waver a hair's-breadth from his larboard optic, for I knew that if I did he would be upon me like lightning. But although he dared not move his limbs he was not afraid to use his tongue, angrily demanding what I meant by perpetrating such an outrage upon one of Senor Morillo's best customers, and vowing that he would not be satisfied until he had seen me flogged within an inch of my life for my insolence. Then, when I explained to him the actual state of affairs--while Collins and another man securely lashed his hands together behind his back--his temper completely got the better of him, and he raved, and shrieked curses at us until we were perforce compelled to gag him lest his cries should reach the men in the boat and give them the alarm. However, we very soon secured and silenced him; and then, having marched him out at the back of the house and secured him in a remote hut by himself, I gave Collins fresh instructions, after which I sauntered across the open space of blistering sunshine to the edge of the wharf, and looked down into the boat. The four men had already made fast her painter to a ring in the wharf wall, and were now lolling over the gunwale, staring down into the deep, clear water at the fish playing about beneath them, and chatting disjointedly as they sucked at their pipes. "It is thirsty work sitting there and grilling in the sun, is it not, lads?" said I in French. "Come up to the house and drink Senor Morillo's health in a jug of sangaree; and then Captain Lenoir wants you to carry down some fruit and vegetables that Senor Morillo has given him for the ship's use." "_Bien_! we come, monsieur," they answered with one accord; and the next moment they were all slouching toward the house, a pace or two in my wake. I traversed a good three-quarters of the distance from the wharf to the house, and then halted suddenly and smote my forehead violently, as though I had just remembered something. "Dolt that I am," I exclaimed in French, "I had almost forgotten! Indeed I have completely forgotten something--your mate's name. I have a message for him." And I looked the man nearest me straight in the eye. "Ah!" he ejaculated; "monsieur doubtless means Monsieur Favart, our chief mate--" "Of course," I cut in. "Favart is the name. Thanks! Go you on to the house and walk straight in; you will find your friends awaiting you. As for me--" I flung out my hand with an expression of disgust, and turned back as though to return to the wharf edge. But as soon as the quartette had fairly entered the house and I was assured, by certain subdued sounds, that they had fallen into the trap that had been set for them, I turned on my heel again, and presently found the four prisoners in process of being secured. "I am sorry, lads," I said to them in French, "that I have been compelled to resort to subterfuge to make prisoners of you, but, you see, we are all invalids here, and not strong enough to take your ship by force; and therefore, since it is imperative that we should have her, I have been compelled to use guile. However, I will keep my word with you in the matter of something to quench your parched throats; and if you choose to be sensible, and make no foolish attempts at escape, you shall have no reason to complain of harsh treatment." "Ah, Monsieur Anglais, if we had but known--" answered one of the Frenchmen, with a rather rueful smile. "However," he continued, shrugging his shoulders, "although you have contrived to get hold of us--and the captain--you have not yet got the ship; and before you can get her you will be obliged to use a great deal more guile than sufficed for our capture; for Monsieur Favart is a sharp one, I assure you, and not to be so very easily deceived." "I can well believe it," I answered lightly. "All the same, I am very much obliged to you for the hint, and will do my best to profit by it." Whereupon, as I turned on my heel to quit the house, the garrulous Frenchman's three shipmates fell upon him, figuratively, tooth and nail, heaping reproaches upon the unhappy man's head for having warned me against the chief mate's astuteness. I did not wait to hear how the matter ended, but, leaving the house briskly, as though I were the bearer of an important message, I hurried across to the wharf and, dropping into the dinghy, cast off her painter and sculled her across to _La Belle Estelle_, alongside which I coolly went, and, making fast the painter, ascended the gangway ladder and stepped in on deck before anybody condescended to take any notice of me. There were some twenty men, or thereabout, busying themselves about the deck in a very leisurely manner, taking off hatches, hauling taut the running rigging, and so on, under the supervision of a very smart, keen-looking man, dressed, like the skipper of the ship, in white. This man I took to be Monsieur Favart, the chief mate; so stepping up to him where he stood, at the break of the monkey poop, I raised my hat politely and said: "Have I the pleasure to address Monsieur Favart, the chief mate of this vessel?" "Certainly, monsieur," he answered, bringing his piercing black eyes to bear upon me. "And who may you be, my friend, that you find it necessary to ask such a question? I thought I had been here often enough to enable every dweller upon yonder island to at least know Jules Favart by sight. But I do not seem to remember ever having seen you before." "You have not, monsieur," I answered. "I am quite a new recruit, and only joined just in time to witness the destruction of that pestilent British man-o'-war, the wreck of which you doubtless observed as you entered the river." "We did," he answered; "and we guessed, of course, that it was the wreck of the _Psyche_. So that affair came off all right, eh? Well, I didn't very well see how it could possibly fail, for we all had a hand in the devising and arranging of it, and we chopped and trimmed away at the plan until I flatter myself that it was as perfect as human ingenuity could make it. But I take it that you did not come aboard here to discuss that matter with me?" "No, indeed," I answered. "My business with you has reference to quite another affair. I bring a message to you from Captain Lenoir, who is at present discussing with Senor Morillo the matter of the expected arrival of the cauffle this afternoon. We find ourselves in something of a difficulty over that matter; and your arrival in the nick of time proves most opportune. For you must know that when the _Psyche_ was cut adrift and came ashore, her crew were compelled to camp on the beach, yonder; and Senor Morillo considered that the opportunity to give the English a thorough drubbing was far too good to be let slip; he therefore attacked them in the dead of night, and punished them severely; but I regret to say that our side also suffered very heavily, with the result that a good many of our best men are at this moment on the sick list and unfit for duty. This puts us in a very awkward position; for the cauffle that is arriving is a big one, and rather difficult to handle--so we learn. Therefore, in order to avoid all possibility of trouble, Senor Morillo has arranged with Captain Lenoir that the latter shall land his crew to lend a hand in keeping the slaves in order when they arrive; and my instructions from the captain are to request that you will at once land, bringing all hands except the idlers with you." "I understand," answered Favart. "Very well. When is the cauffle expected to arrive?" "It may heave in sight at any moment," I answered. "Therefore it is advisable that you should lose no time in obeying Captain Lenoir's instructions." "Trust me, I am not a man to lose time," answered Favart with a boisterous laugh. "Lenoir knows he may rely upon me. I suppose we ought to go fully armed?" "Captain Lenoir said nothing about that," I answered. "No, I don't think there will be any need for you to arm yourselves. Anyhow, if weapons are needed we have plenty ashore." "Very well; so much the better," observed Favart; "for it has just occurred to me that the skipper has the keys of the arms chest in his pocket, and we could not get at the weapons, even though we should require them ever so urgently. All right; you may tell the captain to expect me at once. But perhaps you would prefer to remain and go with us--I see that you are one of the lame ducks. Did you get that hurt in the fight with the English?" "Yes," said I--"a broken arm. It is getting better fast, however; and I dare say I can scull the dinghy back, as I sculled her off, unless you will be charitable enough to give me a tow." "Of course I will, with the utmost pleasure," answered Favart. And away he bustled forward, shouting an order for all hands to lay aft and get a couple of boats into the water. It was a very great relief to me to be rid of the fellow for a few minutes, for, truth to tell, the interview was beginning to get upon my nerves a bit; I could see that the French seaman's estimate of his chief officer was just, and that Favart was indeed "a sharp one." True, I had managed to hoodwink him, thus far, but I was in constant dread of saying or doing something that might awaken his suspicions, in which case all the fat would at once be in the fire; for I had placed myself absolutely in his power, and I judged him to be a man who would take a terrible revenge, should he prematurely discover that something was wrong. Moreover, if his suspicions should once be aroused, and verified, not only did we stand to lose the ship-- which I was quite determined to capture--but with twenty stout seamen at his back he was fully capable of recapturing the factory and releasing all the prisoners, when we should find ourselves in a very pretty mess. Thus far, however, everything seemed to be going admirably, and I told myself that all I had to do was to keep my nerve and neither say nor do anything to excite suspicion; indeed it was this consideration that caused me to hang about aboard _La Belle Estelle_ rather than hurry away ashore again as soon as I had delivered my message. There was a great deal of fuss and bustle on board the brig, while the Frenchmen were clearing away and lowering the boats; then, with a vast amount of jabber, they went down the side, took their places, and shoved off, with me and my dinghy in tow. Now came the critical moment when everything must be won or lost; for, personally, I had done all that was possible, and the rest depended entirely upon the intelligence of the little party of seamen to whom I had entrusted the carrying out of my plan; I had explained that plan to them, and directed them what to do and precisely when to do it, and I was also decoying the enemy into the trap prepared for them; but I foresaw clearly that if my men acted prematurely, and thus gave the alarm, or, on the other hand, allowed the psychological moment to pass before they put in an appearance, the whole affair was likely enough to end in a ghastly tragedy. But while I reflected thus the boats traversed the space of water between the brig and the wharf, and ranged up alongside the landing steps. Then, with more excited jabber and shouting, the Frenchmen tumbled over the gunwales and up the steps to the top of the wharf, where they stood in a bunch, waiting for further orders. As the last of them ascended the steps, with me bringing up the rear, I glanced across the water toward the spot where I expected the cauffle to appear, and pretended that I caught sight of a cloud of dust rising beyond the trees. As a matter of fact there really was an effect of sunlight that might very easily have been mistaken for a dust cloud, and it was this appearance that gave me the inspiration to act as I now did. "Look!" I exclaimed excitedly to Favart, pointing at the same moment across the water--"do you see that cloud of dust yonder? That is undoubtedly the cauffle coming along the road; and we must hurry with our arrangements, or we shall be too late. This way, Monsieur Favart, if you please. Come along, lads!" And I led them all at a rapid rate across the open space and into the compound belonging to the smallest barracoon. "Straight across, and into the barracoon itself," I panted, making a great show of hurry and excitement; and the Frenchmen streamed through the gate like a flock of sheep. As the last man entered, I flung the gate to, dropped the bar into its place, and blew a piercing blast on a whistle which I carried. Then, replacing the whistle in my pocket, I drew forth a pistol, and placed my back against the gate. At the first sound of the whistle the Frenchmen halted abruptly, instinctively guessing that it was a signal of some sort, while Favart turned in his tracks and flung a fierce glance of inquiry at me. Something in the expression of my face must have given him the alarm, I think, for after a prolonged stare he suddenly came striding toward me. "Halt, monsieur!" I cried sharply, levelling the pistol at him. "Another step, and I fire! Look behind you." He did so, and beheld eighteen English sailors, armed with muskets, cutlasses, and pistols, file out of the open door of the barracoon and draw up as if on parade. "What does this mean, monsieur?" demanded Favart, glaring at me murderously. "Simply that you and your men are my prisoners, monsieur," answered I. "Nay, do not move, I beg you,"--as the Frenchmen seemed to be preparing for a rush. "The man who moves will be shot dead without further warning. It is useless to dream of resistance, for my men are fully armed, while you are not; therefore, to save unnecessary bloodshed, I beg that you will at once surrender. You see the force of my argument, I am sure, Monsieur Favart?" "I do," he answered grimly; "and of course we surrender, since there is nothing between that and being shot down. But, oh, if I had only suspected this when you were aboard the brig--! Well, what do you want us to do?" "Have the goodness to march your men into the barracoon, monsieur," said I. "It is but for half an hour or so, until I can make other arrangements for your disposal. I assure you I have not the remotest intention of detaining you there." Favart turned and said a word to his men, and the whole party then wheeled and shambled away across the compound and into the open door of the barracoon, which was immediately shut and locked upon them. CHAPTER EIGHT. ANOTHER STROKE OF LUCK. Having captured the Frenchmen, the next item on the programme was to so arrange matters that they might be at once transferred to other and more comfortable quarters--thus leaving the barracoon free for the reception, if necessary, of the unfortunate slaves now close at hand without running any risk of their getting the better of my little band of invalids. This was not a very difficult matter, for there were plenty of slave irons about the place; and, having procured the necessary number of sets, I had the Frenchmen out of the barracoon, four at a time, ironed them, and then marched them out of the compound to a large empty shed which would answer the purpose of a prison most admirably. In less than half an hour I had the entire party secured and in charge of an armed guard of two men; and now all that remained to be done was to obtain possession of the brig. To accomplish this, I chose the soundest eight of the party who had assisted in capturing the Frenchmen, and, leading them to the wharf steps, ordered them down into the French captain's gig, which was, of course, still lying alongside the wharf. Then, stepping into the stern- sheets myself, we pushed off and headed for the brig, which we boarded a few minutes later without let or hindrance, the small number of hands still remaining on board having apparently gone below and turned in the moment that they saw the chief mate clear of the ship. At all events when we ascended the gangway ladder not a soul was to be seen; our lads therefore quickly clapped on the hatches, beginning with the fore- scuttle, and the brig was ours. Then, having made sure that the half- dozen or so of prisoners down in the forecastle could not get loose again, I went up and hauled down the French flag, hoisting it again to the gaff-end beneath an English ensign which I found in the flag-locker. I thought that the sight of the brig, with the two ensigns thus arranged, would be an agreeable sight and afford a pleasant surprise to our people when they returned from capturing the cauffle. It had just gone five bells in the afternoon watch when the skipper's party hove in sight at the spot where the bush path led down to the creek, and where their boats were moored. The brig, of course, at once attracted their attention, and, looking through the ship's telescope at them, I made out Captain Perry standing alone on a little projecting point, staring hard at her, as though he scarcely knew what to make of her; I therefore ordered four hands into the gig, and, rowing across to where he stood, explained matters. My story took quite a quarter of an hour to tell, for he continually interrupted me to ask questions; but when I had finished he was good enough to express his most unqualified approval of what I had done, winding up by saying-- "I may as well tell you now, Mr Fortescue--what indeed I had quite made up my mind to before the performance of this exceedingly meritorious piece of work--that it is my intention to give you an acting order as third lieutenant, Mr Purchase and Mr Hoskins moving up a step, as well as myself, in consequence of the lamented death of Captain Harrison." Of course I thanked him, as in duty bound; and then he informed me that the ambuscade had been completely successful, the entire cauffle having been captured with the exchange of less than a score of shots; and that although three of the slave-traders had been killed and five wounded, not one of our own men had been hurt. But he added that the unhappy blacks were so completely worn out with their long march down to the coast that it would only be rank cruelty to release them at once, and that he had therefore decided to house them in the barracoons and give them a week's complete rest before starting them back on their long homeward march. "And now, Mr Fortescue," he concluded, "since that English ensign aboard the prize has done its work, have the goodness to haul it down, and keep the French flag flying, if you please; I quite expect that we shall have two or three more ships here to help in the conveyance of this huge cauffle of slaves across the Atlantic; and I do not wish them to be alarmed and put on their guard--should they come upon us unexpectedly--by seeing a vessel riding at anchor with the signal flying that she has been captured by the English." This was, of course, sound common sense, and I lost not a moment in returning to the brig and making the required alteration in the arrangement of the flags. That being done, it occurred to me that it would be a wise thing to clear the remainder of the French crew out of the vessel; and this I also did; afterwards assisting in transporting the miserable slaves across the channel to the island, and helping to arrange for their comfort and well-being during the night. They were, without exception, what the slave-dealers would doubtless have called "a prime lot"--numbering fifteen hundred and eighty-four, of whom less than two hundred were women; but they were all worn to skin and bone with the fatigue and hardship which they had been called upon to endure on the march from their own country down to the coast, and were so dead-beaten with fatigue that they appeared to have sunk into such a state of apathy that even the prospect of immediate rest, plenty of good food, and a speedy restoration to liberty seemed insufficient to lift them out of it. But after they had been made to bathe and thoroughly cleanse themselves from the dust and other impurities of the march, prior to being housed in the barracoons, they seemed to pluck up a little spirit,--a salt-water bath is a wonderful tonic,--and later on in the evening, when a plentiful meal was served out to them, they so far recovered their spirits as to begin to jabber among themselves. It was close upon sunset before the last batch had been ferried across to the island and lodged in the barracoons; and then, in accordance with an order from the skipper, I took a working-party on board the brig, and, casting her off from the buoy to which she had been moored, warped her in alongside the wharf and made her fast there. The next two days were entirely devoid of incident; but we were all kept busy in attending to the unfortunate captive blacks, supervising the bathing of them in batches, inducing them to take a moderate amount of exercise in the barracoon compounds, feeding them up, and nursing the sick--of whom, however, there was luckily a singularly small percentage. But on the morning of the third day, before the gig had started upon her daily cruise of surveillance of the river, the look-out whose turn it was for duty in the crow's-nest had scarcely ascended to his lofty perch in the tree when he hurried down again with the intelligence that three craft--a ship, a barque, and a large brigantine--were in the offing and making for the mouth of the river. Whereupon Mr Purchase volunteered to go aloft, taking me with him as aide-de-camp, to keep an eye upon the strangers, and to transmit intelligence of their movements from time to time. The skipper promptly accepted the offer and, besides, arranged a system by which I was to write Mr Purchase's messages, carry them from the crow's-nest to the ground, and deliver them over to one of two midshipmen in waiting, who would at once scamper off with it, while I ascended the Jacob's ladder again for further information, to be transmitted by the second midshipman--if, meanwhile, the first had not had time to return. This system acted admirably, for it kept the captain fully informed of the course of events, and at the same time left him quite free to attend to such preparations for the reception of the three craft as he might deem necessary. These preparations were beautifully simple, consisting merely in the arming of every man capable of taking part in what would probably prove to be a fairly stubborn fight, manning the boats with the fighting contingent, and then remaining concealed until the approaching craft had come up to the anchorage and made fast to the buoys,--as we fully expected that they would,--when the boats were to make a simultaneous dash at all three craft and carry them by boarding, while we invalids were left to look after the prisoners and see that they did not break out and create a diversion in favour of their friends. Meanwhile the land-breeze was fast dying away in the offing, while the sea-breeze had not yet set in, consequently, when the approaching craft arrived within about two miles of the river's mouth they entered a streak of glassy calm, and lay there, rolling heavily, with their sun- bleached canvas napping itself threadbare against their masts and rigging, thus affording us an excellent opportunity to get breakfast at leisure, and fortify ourselves generally against the stress of the coming struggle. We had just comfortably finished our meal, and Captain Perry had completed his final dispositions, when the look-out who had temporarily taken Mr Purchase's place in the crow's-nest came down with the intelligence that the sea-breeze was setting in, and might be expected to reach the becalmed craft within the next ten minutes; whereupon the first lieutenant and I returned to our post of observation to watch the progress of the approaching slavers, and report upon it from time to time. Upon regaining our perch we saw that the brigantine, which was the outermost craft of the three, had just caught the sea-breeze and, having squared away before it, was coming along almost as fast as the breeze itself; then the barque and the ship caught it within a minute of each other, and presently all three of them were racing straight for the mouth of the river. But they were still a long way off, and, owing to the many twists and turns in the course of the river, would have nearly twenty miles to travel before they could reach the anchorage. And when, some time later, having safely negotiated the bar and entered the river, they arrived at the point where they would have to shift their helms to enter the N'Chongo Chine Lagoon--where we were patiently awaiting them-- we saw that only two of them, the barque and the brigantine, were coming our way, while the ship continued on up the river, presumably bound to the Camma Lagoon, where poor Captain Harrison had lost his life in the attack upon the factory. This was a distinct relief to us; for although all our wounded were doing remarkably well, the number of men actually in fighting trim was so small that to tackle the three vessels simultaneously would have been an exceedingly formidable job, whereas we felt that the capture of two of them was well within our powers. Moreover it would be comparatively easy to take the ship upon her return down the river, which would doubtless happen immediately upon the discovery of the destruction of the factory to which she was evidently bound. Despite the zigzag course that the two approaching craft would have to steer, the sea-breeze afforded them a leading wind all the way to the south-east end of the island, which we occupied; consequently after leaving the river and entering the lagoon they came along at a very rapid rate, the brigantine seeming to be rather the faster craft of the two. Meanwhile the skipper, being kept fully informed of the progress of the approaching vessels, had caused our prize, _La Belle Estelle_, to be warped far enough off from the wharf wall to allow of our boats being placed in ambush between her and the wharf, where they now lay, with their officers and crew already in them, waiting for the moment when the word should be given for them to dash forth from their hiding-place. At length the brigantine, with the barque less than a cable's length astern of her--both of them flying Spanish colours at their gaff-ends-- arrived within a mile of the spot where it would be necessary for her to luff up in order to fetch the anchorage, whereupon Purchase and I descended from our look-out, and, having made our final report to the skipper, went our several ways--the first to take command of the pinnace in the impending attack, and I to place myself at the head of the convalescents, my duty being to assist as might be required, and to see that the prisoners did not seize the opportunity to become troublesome. The prisoners were all confined in outbuildings at the rear of the settlement, and it was there that my little band of armed convalescents were assembled; consequently I was obliged to station myself where I could keep an eye upon and be in touch with them. Yet I was quite determined that, even though I must keep one eye upon my own especial command, and the buildings over which they were mounting guard, I would also witness the attack upon the approaching slavers. Ultimately, after two or three unsuccessful attempts, I succeeded in finding a spot from which I could accomplish both objects, and at the same time sit comfortably in the shadow of a building. A few minutes later, from behind the belt of trees and scrub that extended along the whole southern shore of the islet, I beheld the end of the brigantine's flying-jib-boom slide into view, with the flying- jib, recently hauled down, napping loosely in the wind; then followed the rest of the spar, with the standing jib also hauled down, and a couple of men out on the boom, busily engaged in stowing it; then her fore-topmast staysail, beautifully cut and drawing like a whole team of horses, swept into view, followed by the fore part of a very handsome hull bearing the foremast, with the topsail still set, the topgallantsail and royal clewed up and in process of being furled, and the course hanging from the foreyard in graceful festoons. Finally came the remaining length of hull with the towering mainmast supporting a mainsail as handsomely cut and setting as flat as that of a yacht. She was a most beautiful vessel, sitting very low in the water, and therefore, perhaps, looking even longer than she actually was. She was broadside-on to me, so I could not see what amount of beam she showed; consequently it was a little difficult to estimate her size, but, judging from her general appearance, I put it down at about two hundred and twenty tons. She was painted a brilliant grass green from her rail to her copper, and showed four ports of a side, out of which peered the muzzles of certain brass cannon that I decided were probably long nines. The vessel reached across the narrow channel and went in stays quite close to the tree-clad northern shore of the lagoon--thus at once exhibiting her own exceedingly shallow-draught of water and her skipper's intimate knowledge of the locality--just as the barque in turn hove in sight. This last vessel had nothing at all remarkable in her appearance, except perhaps that her canvas was exceptionally well cut, but she was by no means a beauty, and to the eye presented all the characteristics of the ordinary merchantman, being painted black, with a broad white band round her upon which were depicted ten painted ports. But these appearances of honesty were deceptive, for despite the general "motherliness" of her aspect she was almost as speedy a ship as the brigantine, although she had by this time shortened down to her two topsails and fore-topmast staysail. Also, with the aid of my telescope, I was able to discern, above the blatant pretence of the painted ports, six closed ports of a side, which I had no doubt concealed as many cannon. The brigantine, tacking as smartly and handily as a little boat, came round and headed well up for the weathermost buoy, to which she made fast a few minutes later, with the barque close upon her heels. Until the latter had also made fast to a buoy--the one astern of the brigantine--a dead silence reigned over the settlement, broken only by the shouts of the people on board the two new arrivals as they went noisily about their work of clewing up, hauling down, and furling their canvas; but the moment that the barque was fast to her buoy and the men who had bent the cable to the buoy had returned on board, there arose a sudden rattle and splash of oars, and our concealed boats swept out from their hiding-place between the brig and the wharf and made a dash for the two craft, half of them going for the brigantine while the other half struck out for the barque. The surprise, admirably managed by the skipper, was complete; for the greater part of the crews of the two vessels was aloft furling the canvas at the moment when our boats appeared; and although their appearance served as a signal for the men aloft to swing themselves off the yards and descend to the deck by way of the backstays, yet before they had time to arm themselves and prepare for an effective resistance our lads were alongside and swarming in over the low rails of the two craft; and a very brief scuffle sufficed to place them in possession of both. Upon inspection, they proved to be undoubted slavers, for they were not only fitted with slave-decks, but had a full supply of water and meal on board; in fact they were ready for the immediate reception of their human cargo, which, but for our interference, they could have shipped and gone to sea again in a very few hours. The barque was named _Don Miguel_, of three hundred and forty-seven tons measurement, hailing from Havana; with a crew of fifty-six, all told; and she mounted twelve twelve-pounders, with an ample supply of ammunition for them in her magazine. The brigantine rejoiced in the name _El Caiman_. She was a trifle bigger than I had estimated her to be, her papers showing her tonnage to be two hundred and thirty. She carried a crew of forty; and mounted eight beautiful brass long nines on her broadsides, as well as a long eighteen pivoted on her forecastle. She hailed from Santiago de Cuba, and was quite a new ship; whereas the _Don Miguel_ was nearly twenty years old, and leaked like a basket when heavily pressed by her canvas, as some of us soon discovered. None of our people were hurt in the scrimmage which resulted in the capture of these two craft; as soon, therefore, as their crews had been taken out of them and securely confined, Captain Perry made ready to sally forth and capture the ship which had gone up the river, and which might be expected to return immediately upon discovering the destruction of the factory on the Camma Lagoon. It was regarded as just possible that, finding the up-river factory destroyed, her captain might make his way to our anchorage, in the hope of securing a cargo from our factory; but, on the other hand, it was also possible that he might get an inkling of our presence somewhere in the river, and go straight to sea again, preferring to try his luck on some other part of the coast. There was just sufficient time for our lads to get a meal in comfort before the moment arrived for them to shove off and make their way to the mouth of the lagoon in order to intercept, and prevent the escape of, the returning ship; the skipper therefore gave orders to pipe all hands to dinner, and while the meal was in progress he made his dispositions for the forthcoming expedition. As before, I was left in charge of the convalescents to take care of the sick and see that the prisoners--now, of course, considerably augmented in numbers by our most recent captures--did not get into mischief. But although I was not permitted to participate in the fun, I was in no mood to lose it altogether; I therefore waited patiently until the little flotilla of boats had started--and my services on their account were no longer required--and then, having first gone the rounds of the place and satisfied myself that everything was perfectly safe, I slung my telescope over my shoulder and made my way aloft to the crow's-nest, wherein I comfortably settled myself, and, levelling my glass over a big branch that served admirably as a rest for it, prepared to watch the progress of the boats and, as I hoped, witness the capture of the ship. The crow's-nest was rigged among the topmost branches of the highest tree on the islet, the view obtainable from it was very extensive, embracing an arc of the horizon of nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, which included, on my far right, the mouth of the river, some twenty miles distant, and a few miles of the offing beyond, while stretching away to the left of that point, toward the southward and eastward, could be traced the entire course of the river as far as the native town of Olomba, and thence onward to the Camma Lagoon, while the near and middle distance was occupied by the waters of the N'Chongo Chine Lagoon, with--in the present instance--the boat flotilla carrying on under a heavy press of canvas to fetch the passage giving access to the river. I watched these for some time, observing with interest the gallant manner in which the captain's gig, under a spread of canvas that was manifestly too much for her in the roaring sea-breeze that was now blowing, struggled along and contrived to still retain the lead of the bigger and more powerful boats; and then I began to search the river for signs of the returning ship, for I calculated that by this time she must have arrived at her destination and discovered the destruction of the factory; so it was a question what the skipper of her would do upon making the discovery. That she was not in the Camma Lagoon was pretty evident, for almost the whole expanse of that sheet of water was in full view from my look-out, and I could scarcely have failed to see her, had she been there; I therefore carefully inspected the course of the river more toward Olomba, and presently I caught a glimpse of her upper canvas sliding along past the belt of mangroves and bush that bordered the river. She was beating down against the sea-breeze, with a strong current under her lee bow hawsing her up to windward, and was making very rapid progress. Then I allowed my glances to return to the boats, and wondered whether those in them could see the ship. I came to the conclusion that they could not, being by this time too far over toward the other side of the lagoon, and consequently too close in to the mangroves to be able to see over them. I now most ardently wished that I had thought of arranging to display a signal warning them of the approach of the ship, for it would be a piece of information very useful for them to possess under the existing circumstances; but I had not, so there was no use in worrying about it. And even as I came to this conclusion the gig, still leading, disappeared within the narrow channel giving access to the river, and was quickly followed by the other boats, until the whole had vanished. And now I could but guess what was happening in the channel, and watch the movements of the ship. By the time that the last of the boats had disappeared, and I was free to again direct my attention to the larger craft, she had worked down the river as far as the entrance of the creek giving access to Olomba; and when she next hove about I soon saw, by the length of time that she was holding on the same tack, that she was making a long "leg" down the main channel of the river. But she still had some ten miles of river to traverse before she would reach the spot at which it had been arranged that the boats should lie in ambush for her; and, fast as she was travelling, I estimated that it would take her at least an hour to cover that distance. I therefore drew out my watch, noted the time, and then set myself patiently to await the course of events, keenly watching her movements meanwhile. I noticed that, thanks to the exquisite cut of her canvas, she was looking well up into the wind, and I thought it possible that, with this advantage, she might perhaps reach the spot where the boats were awaiting her, without breaking tacks, which would be an advantage for our people, for it would throw her so close to the place of ambush that it would cause the attack almost to take the form of a surprise. And so it did, as I afterward learned; for when at length her skipper was compelled to put his helm down and go about, in order to avoid grounding on the mud of the eastern bank of the river, the ship was in the very mouth of the creek wherein our boats were lurking; and while the ship was in stays, and all hands of her crew were busily engaged in tending the tacks, sheets, and braces, our people dashed alongside and took her almost without striking a blow. CHAPTER NINE. WE LEAVE THE FERNAN VAZ. Of course nothing of this was perceptible from my look-out in the crow's-nest; the only thing of a suggestive character that came to my notice was that when, looking through my telescope, I saw the ship hove in stays, I observed that the operation of swinging the after yards seemed to be only partially performed, while the head sails remained aback for an unconscionable length of time, from which I concluded that at that precise moment events were happening on board her. When, some five minutes later, I saw her yards trimmed, and presently observed her come about again and bear away for the lagoon, instead of holding her luff down the river, I was able to make a pretty accurate guess as to what had happened. I remained aloft, however, until she slid through the narrow channel leading from the river into the lagoon, when I saw that she had all our boats towing astern of her in a string; whereupon I descended, for I knew that to betoken the fact that she was now in the possession of our people. She came along very fast, and as she drew nearer I saw that she was an exceedingly handsome vessel, by far the most handsome, indeed, that I had ever seen. She was frigate-built, seven hundred and forty tons measurement, her three masts accurately parallel, raking slightly aft, and stayed to a hair, while her snow-white canvas was more beautifully cut than that of many a yacht. She was painted black all over--hull, masts, and yards; and her royal yards hoisted close up under the trucks, like those of a man-o'-war. If she was anything like as good as she looked we had secured a prize that was indeed worth having. The skipper had instructed me that he might possibly bring the prize directly alongside the wharf, and that I was to make all the necessary preparations to assist in the operation. I accordingly turned out my contingent and mustered them on the wharf, at the next berth ahead of that occupied by _La Belle Estelle_, with an ample supply of hawsers and heaving-lines at the bollards; and by the time that I was quite ready the ship was in sight, luffing round the point and hauling up for the anchorage. But instead of making a board across to the mainland, as all the others had done, the skipper kept his helm down until she was all a- shiver, when everything was let go at the same instant, the square canvas shrivelled up to the yards, the fore and aft canvas was brailed in, or hauled down, and then, as a strong party of men sprang aloft and laid out upon the yards, the beautiful craft came sliding along, with the way which she still had on her, straight for the wharf. The skipper had calculated his distance to a nicety, for her momentum was sufficient to bring her handsomely up to her berth, but not enough to impose any undue strain upon the hawsers in checking her and bringing her alongside; this part of the work being done by my gang, while the men who had captured her were still aloft busily furling the canvas. As soon as she was securely moored and a gangway plank rigged, I went aboard and had a good look at our latest acquisition. There could be no doubt as to the fact that she was a slaver; for her slave-decks were already fitted, and she carried all the requisites, including meal and water, for the transport of a very large cargo of slaves. She was, in fact, the largest slaver I ever saw, and had accommodation to--I had almost said _comfortably_--carry at least eight hundred slaves. She was Spanish; named the _Dona Josefa_; hailed from Havana; was oak-built, coppered, and copper-fastened; was a brand-new ship, worth half a dozen _Psyches_; and her cabin accommodation aft was the most spacious and elegantly fitted that I had ever seen. She was armed with eighteen twenty-four pounders, and carried a crew of ninety-eight, all told. She was, in short, a most formidable ship; and, but for the fact of our having taken her by surprise as we did, she might have bade defiance to the slave squadron for years, and paid for herself twenty times over. Naturally, the skipper was in high feather at so brilliant a series of successes as we had met with, for he had not been altogether without his anxious moments as to what might be the result of the inevitable court- martial that awaited us all for the loss of the _Psyche_; but he flattered himself that the authorities could not possibly be hard upon officers who brought in four such rich prizes as ours. And now there began to be general talk about leaving the river and reporting ourselves at Sierra Leone; for not only had we ships in plenty to accommodate all hands, but those among us who were most experienced felt that, after having made such a clean sweep as we had, it was exceedingly unlikely that there would be any more chances to capture either slaves or ships in the Fernan Vaz for some time to come. Still, it would not be possible for us to go quite at once; for even now there remained several matters to be attended to, the most important being the disposal of the blacks whom we had captured from the slave-traders. Although these had come a long distance down from the interior, there was no doubt that they would be able to find their way back to their homes; whereas, if we carried them to Sierra Leone, the chances were that they would never see either home or relatives again. Therefore although, strictly speaking, it was our duty to take them to Sierra Leone with us, the skipper decided to strain a point, if necessary, and give the poor wretches the opportunity to decide for themselves which alternative should be adopted. Accordingly, the question was put to them, through Cupid, with the result that they decided, unanimously, to return by the way that they came rather than trust themselves to the tender mercies of the sea, which none of them had seen, and few had heard of, before. But they begged a few days longer in which to rest and recuperate before they were despatched on their long journey; and this the skipper cheerfully accorded them, although he was now all anxiety to get away. After the negroes had been given a full week in which to recover their health and strength, they were mustered early on a certain morning, given a good breakfast, allowed to load themselves up with as much meal as they chose to take, furnished with a few boarding-pikes and cutlasses from the prizes wherewith to defend themselves on the way, and transported across the harbour and fairly started upon their journey. Then, having already completed our own preparations for departure, our prisoners were apportioned out among the four prizes, put down in the holds on top of the ballast and made perfectly secure, and the officers and men then proceeded to take up their quarters on board the vessels to which they had severally been appointed by the skipper. The captain himself naturally took command of the _Josefa_, with Mr Purchase as his first lieutenant; Mr Hoskins was given the command of the _Don Miguel_, with Copplestone and Parkinson from our old midshipman's berth to bear him company and keep him from becoming too completely satisfied with life; Mr Marline, the master, was placed in charge of _La Belle Estelle_, with the boatswain's mate to assist him; and, lastly, the skipper was good enough to show his confidence in me by giving me the brigantine to navigate to Sierra Leone--our common destination--with the gunner's mate and Jack Keene as my deck officers. As there was not very much room in the anchorage for manoeuvring, we got under way in succession, the _Josefa_ taking the lead, followed by _Don Miguel_, after which went _La Belle Estelle_, while _El Caiman_, with her canvas set, strained at the cable which secured her to the buoy, as though she were afraid of being left behind. But _I_ had a duty to perform before I cast off from the buoy at which the brigantine was straining; therefore, while the other vessels got under way, I and my boat's crew stood on the wharf and quietly watched them go. Then, as soon as the brig was fairly clear of the anchorage, I went, with two of my boat's crew, to the leewardmost building of the settlement and set light to a little pile of combustibles that had been carefully arranged in each room, finally thrusting a blazing torch into the thatch upon quitting the building. And in the same way we proceeded to each building in turn, until the entire settlement, barracoons and all, was a roaring furnace of flame. Then, bidding my crew get down into the boat and stand by to shove off in a hurry, I proceeded to a certain spot and set fire to an end of slow match that was protruding from a box sunk into the ground near the wharf face, after which I picked up my heels and scampered off, best leg foremost, for the boat, into which I sprang, without much consideration for my dignity, and gave the word to shove off. The boat's crew, who were fully aware of my reasons for haste, lost no time in obeying the order, and the next instant we were foaming away toward the brigantine, from the deck of which the hoarse voice of Tasker, the gunner's mate, now reached us, bawling an order for those for'ard to "stand by to slip!" But before we were half-way across the intervening stretch of water a dull "boom" resounded astern of us, and a length of some fifty feet of wharf face suddenly leapt outward and fell with a heavy splash into the water, followed, about half a minute later, by a second "boom" and splash, then a third, fourth, fifth, and so on, until the entire wharf was completely destroyed and the whole place a ghastly, fire-swept ruin. Then we, too, turned our backs upon what, a short time before, had been one of the most extensive, important, and conveniently situated slave factories on the whole of the West Coast, and made sail to rejoin our companions. We overtook them about half a mile outside the bar; and when I had signalled the commodore that my mission of destruction was fulfilled, he hoisted a general signal setting a course of north-west by west for Cape Palmas; and, when this had been acknowledged, hoisted another to "try rate of sailing." This, of course, was the same thing as giving the word for a race, and, the weather being moderate at the time, we each at once proceeded to pile upon our respective commands every rag of canvas that we could find a yard, boom, or stay for. The race proved an exceedingly interesting and exciting event, for all the vessels were fast. The wind being off the land, the water was smooth for the first three or four hours of the race; and during that time there was scarcely a pin to choose between the _Josefa_ and the brigantine, first one and then the other contriving to get the lead by a length or two, while the brig and the barque also made a neck-and-neck race of it but very gradually dropped astern until, by the time that we had run the land out of sight, the _Josefa_ and the brigantine were leading by nearly a mile, which lead we very gradually increased. By this time, however, the breeze had freshened up considerably, and the sea had got up, whereupon the _Josefa_ displayed so marked a superiority that she had to take in all three royals and her mizzen topgallantsail to avoid running away from the rest of us. But, contrary to my expectations, _El Caiman_, which was an exceedingly beamy, shallow vessel, behaved so well under the new conditions that we also could spare the barque and brig our royal and still keep ahead of them. The weather remained fine, and we made a very quick and pleasant passage to Sierra Leone, where our arrival under such unusual conditions, and the report of our doings and adventures, created quite a sensation. Also we happened to arrive at a most opportune moment; for there were three British men-o'-war in harbour at the time, and we were, therefore, able to undergo at once, and on the spot, our trial by court-martial for the loss of the _Psyche_, instead of being obliged to return to England for the ordeal. The trial took place on the fourth day after our arrival; and, as a matter of course, those of us who had been away in the boats at the time of the wreck were acquitted and exonerated from all blame. But poor Purchase, who had been left in charge of the ship, was not so fortunate, the Court finding that, in the first place, he had been negligent in that he had not maintained a sufficiently careful look-out to preserve the ship from being maliciously cut adrift; and that, in the second place, he had let go the two stream anchors prematurely and before the actual necessity for such a precaution arose, but for which act he would have had the stream anchors available to let go when he discovered that the ship was adrift, and might thus have checked her shoreward drift long enough to permit of other measures being taken for the safety of the ship, even if the streams had not brought her up altogether. For these acts of negligence the prisoner was sentenced to be reprimanded, to lose two years' seniority, and to be dismissed his ship! Fortunately for Purchase, the sentence was not quite so severe as it sounded, for the _Osprey_--one of the men-o'-war in harbour--happened to have a vacancy for a lieutenant, and the Commodore, after hearing Purchase's story of the disaster from his own lips, unhesitatingly gave him the appointment. The fact of the three ships being in port also suggested to me the possibility of getting through my examination, forthwith; I therefore ventured to speak to Captain Perry about it, who very kindly explained my desire to the Commodore. The Commodore, in turn, caused a few inquiries to be made, when it was ascertained that, among the three ships, there were sufficient midshipmen desirous of passing to justify the arrangement of an examination; and within the next fortnight I had the satisfaction of finding myself a full-blown lieutenant. Meanwhile, the Mixed Commission had condemned all four of our prizes--as indeed they could not avoid doing--and the crews were sentenced to long terms of imprisonment with hard labour in chains upon the roads. Then there arose the question of replacing the _Psyche_ on the station; and at the earnest representation of Captain Perry the Commodore was induced to take upon himself the responsibility of purchasing the _Josefa_ into the service, rechristening her the _Eros_, and commissioning her under the command of Captain Perry, who at once arranged for the whole of the officers and crew of the _Psyche_ to accompany him. Then, arising out of the loss of the _Psyche_, another matter was brought to the fore which was destined to exercise a very important influence upon my fortunes. This matter had reference to the dearth of shallow-draught vessels in the slave squadron vessels capable of following the slavers in over the bars of the African rivers and fighting them upon equal terms. At the moment in question we had not a ship in the squadron drawing less than fourteen feet of water; consequently, when a slaver entered a shallow river, or a river with a shallow bar, such a course of procedure as that which had led up to the loss of the _Psyche_ was imperative; and it was very strongly felt that the time had arrived for an improvement in the conditions. The result was that _El Caiman_ also was purchased into the service, rechristened the _Dolphin_, and placed under my command with a crew of sixty, all told; of whom, however, Jack Keene, midshipman, and Tasker, the gunner's mate--who in his new ship held the rank of gunner--were the only individuals with whom I had already been shipmate; the rest were a motley crowd indeed, collected out of the gutters and slums of Freetown. The _Dolphin_, it was arranged, was to act in the first instance as tender to the _Eros_; but, later, might perhaps be detached for certain special work which was just then beginning to attract the attention of the authorities. There was, however, still another matter that was at that moment forcing itself upon the attention of the Commodore; and that was the doings of two craft which were pursuing the nefarious business of slavers, with a measure of audacity that was only equalled by the impunity with which they worked. They were said to be sister ships, undoubtedly built from the same model, most probably launched from the same stocks, and made to resemble each other so absolutely in every respect, down to the most insignificant detail, that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other, excepting at close quarters. But one was an American--named the _Virginia_, hailing from New Orleans, and manned by a Yankee crew--while the other--the _Preciosa_--sailed under the Spanish flag, and was manned by Spaniards. They were phenomenally fast vessels, and simply laughed at the efforts of ships of the squadron to overtake them; but they had been caught in calms on three or four occasions, and boarded by means of boats; when, by a curious freak of fortune, if the boarding party happened to be British, it always proved to be the American that they had boarded; while, if the boarders happened to be American, it was the Spaniard that they found themselves meddling with. Thus, as there was no treaty existing between Spain and the United States of America on the one hand, and England and the United States on the other, conferring mutual rights of search and capture, the vessels had thus far escaped. But now, with two such speedy craft as the _Eros_ and the _Dolphin_, it was confidently hoped that the Spaniard at least would soon be brought to book; when, there being no possibility of further confusion, it was believed that the Americans--who, in consequence of repeated disappointments, had manifested a disposition to leave both craft severely alone--might be induced to renew their interest and speedily capture the _Virginia_. As soon as Captain Perry learned that his special mission was to put a stop to the operations of these notorious vessels, he made it his business to institute exhaustive inquiries in every direction, with the object of acquiring the fullest possible information relative to their movements. Although he had been unable to learn anything very definite he had finally come to the conclusion that at least one of them--which one he could not be certain--was now well on her way to the other side of the Atlantic; so he reasoned that if we proceeded with all despatch to the West Indies, and maintained a careful watch upon the mouth of the Old Bahama Channel, we should be almost certain to fall in with one or the other of them upon her next eastward trip. Accordingly, on a certain day, the _Eros_ and the _Dolphin_ sailed in company from Sierra Leone, and, having made a good offing, caught the trade-wind, blowing fresh, to which we in the _Dolphin_ showed every rag of canvas we could set, while the _Eros_ kept us company by furling her royals and letting run the topgallant halliards from time to time when she manifested a disposition to creep away from us. We did the run across in the quickest time on record, up to that date, making the Sombrero in a fortnight, almost to the hour, from the moment of leaving Sierra Leone, without starting tack, sheet, or halliard--so far as the _Dolphin_ was concerned--during the entire passage. But now, with the Sombrero in sight and Anegada only about one hundred miles ahead, we felt that we were practically on our cruising ground; the _Eros_ therefore shortened sail to her three topsails and jib and signalling to the _Dolphin_ to do the like in proportion and to close, requested me to proceed on board for fresh orders. I was glad enough to obey these instructions, particularly the one relative to shortening sail, for the past fortnight of "carrying on" had been a distinctly anxious time for me; moreover it was a pleasant change to find myself on the comparatively spacious deck of the _Eros_, and once more surrounded by the familiar faces of my former shipmates. There was scant time, however, for the interchange of greetings, for Captain Perry was in a perfect fever of anxiety to complete his arrangements, and I was no sooner through the gangway than he hustled me off to his handsome and delightfully cool cabin under the poop, where, over a large-scale chart of the West Indies, he explained to me in much detail the course of action that he had planned for the two craft. This, in brief, consisted in the adoption of measures which enabled us, while remaining within signalling distance of each other all day, to keep an effective watch upon a stretch of sea some forty miles wide--over which we felt certain the vessel of which we were in search must sooner or later pass--while at sunset we were to close and remain in touch all night. This, of course, was an excellent plan so far as it went, but it was open to the objection that the craft for which we were on the look-out might slip past us unobserved during the night. That, however, was something that could not be helped; moreover, there was a moon coming which would help us, and according to Captain Perry's calculations one or the other of the two craft was almost certain to turn up ere that waxing moon had materially waned. And turn up she did, shortly after midnight on the fifth night following our arrival upon our cruising ground. The moon was by that time approaching her second quarter, was well above the horizon by sunset, and was affording enough light to enable us to distinguish the rig and chief characteristics of a vessel eight miles away. To my very great gratification it was the look-out aboard the _Dolphin_ who first sighted her, she being at that time hull-down in the south-western quarter and reaching athwart our hawse on the starboard tack; thus as the _Eros_ and ourselves were hove-to, also on the starboard tack, she rapidly neared us. At first the only thing that we could clearly distinguish was that she was a full-rigged ship--as were the _Virginia_ and the _Preciosa_-- but, even so, there were certain details connected with her rig which, while not being exactly peculiar, corresponded with similar details referred to in the description of the two notorious slavers, as ascertained by Captain Perry; I therefore made a lantern signal to the _Eros_--under the shelter of our mainsail, so that the stranger to leeward might not see our lights and take the alarm--calling attention to the fact that there was a suspicious sail in sight to the south-west; and this signal was simply acknowledged without comment. But I saw that almost immediately afterwards the _Eros_ swung her main-yard, boarded her fore and main tacks, and hauled to the wind with the object, of course, of preventing the strange sail from working out to windward of us; and a few minutes later I got a signal from the commodore instructing me to remain hove-to for the present, and, later, to act as circumstances might require. The stranger was under all plain sail, to topgallantsails, and was slipping through the water like a witch; but I had very little fear of her outsailing the _Eros_, for, fast as that ship had been when she first fell into our hands, the skipper had improved her speed on a wind nearly a knot, merely by a careful readjustment of the ballast; and now she fully justified my faith in her by handsomely holding her own, and perhaps rather more, but this I could scarcely judge, for since we remained hove-to, the others rapidly drew away from us. I waited with what patience I could muster until the stranger had worked out to a position some five miles ahead of us, and two points on our lee bow, and then I determined to wait no longer, for I felt that if, perchance, anything were to happen aboard the _Eros_--if, for example, she were to carry away or even spring a spar--and the trade-wind was piping up strongly--our unknown friend might very easily give us the slip; I therefore gave orders to swing the foreyard and make sail, piling on the brigantine everything we could show, even to the royal and flying-jib. And it was well that we did so, for half an hour later, strangely enough, my fears with regard to the _Eros_ were realised, an extra heavy puff of wind snapping our consort's fore-topgallant-mast short off at the cap, and causing her to luff sharply into the wind with her big flying-jib dragging in the water under her forefoot. That the stranger was not anxious to make our closer acquaintance at once became apparent, for no sooner did her people perceive the accident that had befallen the _Eros_--which was within a minute of its occurrence--than they put down their helm, tacked, and endeavoured to slip away out to windward clear of us both. The _Dolphin_, however, was doing exceptionally well just then, the combination of wind and sea seemed to exactly suit her, and I felt that, although I had perhaps unduly delayed taking action, we could more than hold our own with the stranger provided that it blew no harder--and I therefore held on grimly, presently receiving a signal from the _Eros_ to take up the chase, which she would resume as soon as she had repaired damages. Shortly afterward the stranger reached out across the bows of the _Eros_, beyond cannon-shot, and although the skipper fired two blank charges and a shotted gun to bring her to she took no notice, a fact which made me more determined than ever, if possible, to get within speaking distance of her. The _Eros_, meanwhile, having cleared away her wreckage, had stowed her mizen topgallantsail, brailed up her spanker, and filled away again; and when we passed her, some three-quarters of an hour later, and about a mile to windward, they had already sent down the stump of her topgallant-mast and had prepared the topgallant rigging for the reception of the new spar. The moment that we arrived in the wake of the stranger we tacked and stood directly after her; and we had not been on the new tack more than ten minutes when I found, to my great gratification, that the _Dolphin_, despite the exceeding shallowness of her hull, was quite as weatherly a vessel as the chase, which was now nearly four miles ahead of us. But it was not until we had been in direct pursuit of her for a full hour that I was able to assure myself that we were undoubtedly gaining on her. Yes, we were gaining on her, but it was _so_ slowly that it was not until sunrise next morning that we were within gun-shot of her; and now, in response to our first shot, she let fly her royal and topgallant halliards, flowed her jib-sheet, and backed her main-yard to allow us to come up with her. As, still carrying on, we rapidly approached the handsome craft, I was busily engaged, with the aid of my glass, in discovering, one after the other, the various points of resemblance between her and the vessels that had been described to us, and I could have kicked myself with vexation when, in answer to the hoisting of our ensign, we saw the Stars and Stripes of the United States flutter out over her taffrail and go soaring aloft to her gaff-end. And almost at the same instant, she now being out of the dazzle of the sun, I was able to read, legibly inscribed on her stern, the words "Virginia. New Orleans!" With the usual perverse luck that had attended the efforts of the British, we had dropped upon the wrong ship of the pair; the _Virginia_ was American, and we had no power to interfere with her. Nevertheless, having gone so far in the matter as to bring her to, I was determined to board her and get a sight of her papers; a Spanish vessel might hoist American colours if she happened to find herself in a tight corner and believed that she might thereby escape. While, as for the name--ah! that certainly was a difficulty not to be easily got over; a ship could scarcely change the name painted on her stern as easily as a chameleon changes his colour, without affording some indication that the change had been made. Still, the slavers were up to all sorts of extraordinary dodges, and--well, I would at least inspect the _Virginia's_ papers, and satisfy myself that they were in order. CHAPTER TEN. THE VIRGINIA OF NEW ORLEANS. Having arrived within pistol-shot of the chase, we hove-to to windward of her, lowered a boat, and I proceeded to board her. As we swept round under her stern, in order to reach her lee gangway, I took a good look at the name on her counter. Yes; there was nothing of pretence or fraud about it, so far as I could see; the words were not only painted upon the wood, but were actually cut deep into it as well; and, furthermore, the paint had all the appearance of having been applied at the same time as that on the rest of her hull. Upon our arrival alongside I was somewhat surprised to observe that the crew had not taken the trouble to throw open the gangway, or put over a side ladder; I had therefore to watch my opportunity and scramble aboard by way of the main chains. The _Virginia_ was a very fine craft indeed, measuring quite eight hundred tons, and carrying a fine, lofty, full poop, by the rail of which stood a typical Yankee, eyeing me with even greater malevolence than the Yankee of that day was wont to exhibit toward the Britisher. He was tall, lean, and cadaverous, with long, straight, colourless hair reaching almost to his shoulders, and a scanty goatee beard adorning his otherwise clean-shaven face. His outer garments, consisting of blue swallow-tail coat with brass buttons and white kerseymere waistcoat and trousers--the former also trimmed with brass buttons--seemed to have been made for a man many sizes smaller than himself; for the coat was distinctly short at the waist, while the sleeves terminated some four inches above the wrist; his waistcoat revealed some two inches of soiled shirt between its lower hem and the top of his trousers; and the latter garments did not reach his bony ankles by quite three inches. He wore an enormous stick-up collar reaching almost to the level of his eyes; his head was graced by an old white beaver hat of the pattern worn by the postboys at that period, and the nap looked as though it had never been brushed the right way since it had been worked up into a hat. On his feet he wore white cotton stockings or socks and low-cut slippers; he carried both hands in his trousers pockets, and his left cheek was distended by a huge plug of tobacco, upon which he was chewing vigorously when I scrambled in over the rail and leaped down on the deck. As I did so I raised my hat and courteously bade him good-morning. Instead of returning my greeting, he ejected a copious stream of tobacco-juice in my direction so dexterously that I had some difficulty in avoiding it, and then remarked-- "Waal, my noble Britisher, what the tarnation mischief do yew mean by firin' them brass popguns of yourn at me, eh? What right have yew to shoot at a ship flyin' the galorious Stars and Stripes? D'ye see them handsome barkers of mine?"--pointing to a fine display of eighteen- pounders, six of a side, mounted in the ship's main-deck battery. "Waal, I was in more'n half a mind to give ye a dose from them in answer to your shot; and yew may thank my mate here, Mr Silas Jenkins, for persuadin' me outer the notion! And what d'ye want, anyway, now that yew're here, and be hanged to ye?" "I have taken the liberty to board your ship for the purpose of getting a sight of your papers," I answered. "Our information is that there are two sister ships--this vessel, and a Spanish craft named the _Preciosa_ which are doing a roaring trade in carrying slaves across the Atlantic; and it is part of my duty to lay hands on the _Preciosa_ if I can. Your vessel answers to her description in every particular save that of name and the flag she flies; and therefore, having fallen in with you, I felt that I should not be doing my duty unless I boarded you and inspected your papers." "Waal, I'll be jiggered!" exclaimed the skipper, turning to his mate. "Hear that, Silas? I'll bet yew ten dollars the critter calls hisself a sailor, and yet he can't tell the difference between the _Virginia_ and the _Preciosa_ without lookin' at their papers! I'll tell ye, stranger, where the difference is between them two vessels. One on 'em has V-i-r- g-i-n-i-a, N-e-w O-r-l-e-a-n-s cut--_cut_, mind you--and painted on her starn, and she flies that galorious flag that's floatin' up thar," pointing to the American ensign fluttering from the gaff-end--"while t'other has the words P-r-e-c-i-o-s-a, H-a-v-a-n-a cut and painted on hern, and she flies a yaller flag with two red bars. I know, because I've seen her--ay, most as often as I've seen the _'Ginia_! Now, sonny, d'ye think ye'll be able to remember that little lesson in sailormanship that a free-born American citizen has been obliged to give ye?" I laughed. "Thank you for nothing," said I. "And now I will trouble you for a sight of those papers that we were speaking of." "I'll be darned if yew will, though, stranger!" he snapped. "No, sirree; not much, I don't think! Why, yew're even more ignorant than I thought yew was, and I must teach ye another little bit of yewr business. Why, yew goldarned Britisher, d'ye know that yew haven't got no right at all to stop me from pursooin' my v'yage, or to demand a sight o' my papers? Supposin' I was to report this outrage to my Gover'ment, what d'ye suppose would happen? Why, our men-o'-war would just up and sink every stinkin' Britisher that they comed across!" "Ah, indeed!" I retorted sarcastically. "Very well; now we'll have a look at those papers; after which you may take whatever steps you deem fit." "And supposin' I refuse?"--began the skipper. But the mate, seeing, I imagine, that I would take no denial, seized his irate superior by the arm and, leading him right aft, conversed with him in low tones for nearly five minutes, at the end of which time they both came forward to the break of the poop, and the skipper, descending the poop ladder, remarked ungraciously: "Waal, since nothin' less than seein' my papers 'll satisfy ye, ye'd better come into my cabin, and I'll show 'em to yew." Whereupon I followed him in through a passage which gave access to a fine, airy poop cabin, plainly but comfortably fitted up, and seated myself, uninvited, upon a cushioned locker while my companion went alone into his state-room, returning, a minute or two later, with a large tin box, the contents of which he laid upon the table. "Thar they are," he exclaimed, pushing them toward me; "look at 'em as long as yew like! I guess yew won't find nothin' wrong with 'em." Nor did I. I inspected them with the utmost care, and ultimately came to the conclusion that they were genuine, and that the ship was undoubtedly the _Virginia_, and American. "Waal," exclaimed the Yankee skipper, when I at length refolded and handed the papers back to him, "are ye satisfied, stranger?" I intimated that I was. "Then git out o' here, ye darned galoot, as quick as you knows how," he snarled, "and thank your lucky stars that I don't freshen yewr way wi' a rope's end!" Then, suddenly changing his tune, as he followed me out on deck and saw me glance round, he remarked: "Purty ship, ain't she? and roomy for her size. Guess I can stow away all of seven hundred niggers down below, and not lose more'n twenty per cent of 'em on an ordinary average passage. And the _Preciosa_ is the very spit of this here craft--built in the same yard, she was, and from the same lines; there ain't a pin to choose atween 'em. Now, if yew was only lucky enough to fall in with _her_, stranger, I guess she'd be a prize worth havin', eh?" "She would!" I agreed. "And, what's more, my friend, we mean to have her, sooner or later." "Yew don't say!" he jeered. "Waal, I guess yew'll have to fight for her afore you git her. And yew'll have to find her afore yew can fight for her, won't yew, sonny? And p'rhaps that won't be so very difficult, a'ter all, for when I next see my friend Rodriguez--that's the cap'n of the _Preciosa_--I'll tell him that yew're out arter him, and maybe he'll lay for yew; for Rodriguez hates the Britishers 'most as bad as I do, and I'm sure he'd enjy blowin' _El Caiman_ outer the water now that she's fallen into yewr hands. He and Morillo was great friends; and I reckon he'll feel bound to avenge Morillo's loss. Yes; I'll tell him, for sure. And I'll also tell all the others on the Coast to keep a bright look-out for the brigantine. Waal, so long, stranger. I'm bound for the Congo, if yew're anyways anxious to know." The foregoing remarks were made as he followed me to the waist and watched my progress over the rail and from the main chains into my boat; and the last item of information was yelled after me when we had put about twenty fathoms of blue water between the boat and the ship. As I flourished my hand by way of reply to his jeers, he turned away and I heard his harsh, nasal accents uplifted in an order to his crew to "Swing the main-yard; haul aft the jib-sheet; and sway away them t'gallan' and r'yal yards." Profoundly disappointed at my non-success, and bitterly mortified at the insults to which I had been subjected by boarding the Yankee, I moodily returned to the _Dolphin_ and, upon mounting to the deck, ordered the gig to be hoisted and the helm to be put up in order that we might return to the _Eros_, the royals of which were now just rising above the horizon to the westward. Three-quarters of an hour later we were again hove-to, and I was once more in the gig, on my way to report to Captain Perry the result of my pursuit. To say that the commodore was also deeply disappointed is only stating the bare truth; yet I was not more than half-way through my narrative before I saw that some scheme was taking shape in the back of his mind. He questioned me very closely indeed upon certain points, one of his questions having reference to the point of the possibility of effecting a change in the name of the ship displayed upon her stern, it being evident that a suspicion had arisen in his mind that the two ships might, after all, be one and the same craft, sailing under different flags as circumstances might require. To speak the truth the same suspicion had once or twice crossed my own mind, but had been completely dissipated by my visit to the _Virginia_; I was quite convinced there could be no possible tampering with the name on the stern, while the papers were undoubtedly genuine, and the crew were as undoubtedly genuine Yankee as were the papers. Yet, despite all this, the fact that such a suspicion had arisen in Captain Perry's mind caused it to recur in my own; I was therefore very glad when he finally said: "Thank you, Mr Fortescue. You appear to have executed your mission very effectively, and to have done everything that I should have done, had I been there. Of course I should have preferred to have been there myself; but--well, I have no doubt the result would have been precisely the same. Now, having found the _Virginia_, I am minded to send you after her, to keep an eye upon her and also to drop a friendly hint to any Yankee cruiser that you may happen to fall in with; for, although you cannot touch her, they can; and they ought to be exceedingly grateful for a hint that will ensure them against making any further mistakes. Yes; you shall follow her up, every inch of the way; go into the Congo with her, and, unless there is some very strong reason against it, come out again with her and follow her right across the Atlantic to her destination, wherever it may be. And while you are doing that, I-- confident that you are keeping the _Virginia_ under observation--will look out for the _Preciosa_, and endeavour to nab her. Go and have a yarn with Mr Hoskins while I prepare your written instructions." The skipper was much longer than I had anticipated over the job of drafting his written instructions to me, and Hoskins and I therefore had an opportunity to discuss the situation at some length. I ventured to voice the suspicion that, for some inexplicable reason, so persistently suggested itself to me that the _Virginia_ and the _Preciosa_ might possibly be one and the same vessel, despite the weighty evidence against such a supposition, but the first lieutenant laughed at the notion, which he pronounced in the highest degree fantastic. "No," said he, "I do not think you need worry about that, Fortescue. But, all the same, you will have to keep your weather eye lifting, on this expedition upon which the captain is about to despatch you. For, from your account of him, I judge the skipper of the _Virginia_ to be an exceptionally vindictive individual, with a very strong animus against us `Britishers,' as he calls us, and such men are apt to be dangerous when provoked, as he will pretty certainly be when he discovers that you are following and watching him. Therefore, be on your guard against him, or he may play you one of those ghastly tricks that the slavers are apt to play upon the slave-hunters when the latter chance to fall into their hands. In my opinion you are rather too young and inexperienced to be sent alone upon such a job." "Nevertheless," said I, "one must acquire one's experience in some way before one can possess it; and I suppose there is no way in which a young officer can learn so quickly as by being placed in a position of responsibility. After all, there is no danger in this forthcoming expedition, so far as I can see; it is but to follow and keep an eye upon a certain ship, and do what I can to promote her capture. But I will keep your warning in mind, never fear. And now I suppose I must say good-bye; for here comes Parkinson, the captain's steward, doubtless to say that my instructions are ready." It was even as I had anticipated; Parkinson was the bearer of a message summoning me to the skipper's cabin, where my written instructions, having first been read over to me, in order that I might be afforded an opportunity to seek explanation of any doubtful points, were placed in my hands, and I was dismissed; the skipper's final order to me being to carry on and, if possible, overtake the _Virginia_, thereafter keeping her in sight at all costs until the remainder of my instructions had been carried out. Ten minutes later I was once more on the deck of the _Dolphin_, and giving orders to make sail, the signal to part company having been hoisted aboard the _Eros_ the moment that my boat left her side. Having braced up on the same course as that steered by the _Virginia_ when last seen, and crowded upon the brigantine every square inch of canvas that her spars would bear, I sent a hand aloft to the royal yard to take a look round and see whether he could discover any sign of the chase; but, as I had more than suspected, she had completely vanished; and my first task was now to find her again. To do this, two things were necessary; the first being that we should follow precisely the same course that she had done; and the second, that we should sail fast enough to overtake her. I therefore ordered the boatswain at once to get up preventer backstays, fore and aft, to enable our spars to carry a heavy press of sail; and then went to my cabin, where, with a chart of the Atlantic spread open before us upon the cabin table, Jack Keene and I discussed the knotty question of the course that should be steered to enable us once more to bring the _Virginia_ within the range of our own horizon. The point that we had to consider was whether our Yankee friend would or would not anticipate pursuit. If he did, he would probably resort to some expedient to dodge us; but if he did not there was little doubt that he would make the best of his way to his port of destination, which, if he spoke the truth, was the Congo. Now, we were well within the limits of the north-east trade-winds, the wind at the moment blowing, as nearly as might be, due north-east, and piping up strong enough to make us think twice before setting our topgallantsail; it was therefore perfectly ideal weather for so powerful a craft as the _Virginia_, which might dare not only to show all three of her topgallantsails but also, perhaps, her main-royal. We therefore ultimately came to the conclusion that, the weather being what it was, our friend the Yankee would shape a straight course for Cape Palmas, with the intention of then availing himself of the alternate sea and land-breezes to slip along the coast as far as the Congo--that being the plan very largely followed by slavers on the eastward passage--and that he would only be likely to deviate from that plan in the event of his actually discovering that he was pursued. Consequently we determined to do the same; and I issued the necessary orders to that effect. We were not very long in getting our preventers rigged, after which we not only set our royal and flying-jib, but also shifted our gaff-topsail, hauling down Number 3, a jib-headed affair, and setting Number 2 in its place, a sail nearly twice as big as the other, with its lofty, tapering head laced to a yard very nearly as long as the topmast. Then, with her lee rail awash--and, in fact, dipping deeply sometimes, on a lee roll--and the lee scuppers breast-deep in water, the _Dolphin_ began to show us what she really could do in the matter of sailing when called upon; reeling off a steady eleven knots, hour after hour, upon a taut bowline; the smother of froth under her bows boiling up at times to the level of her lee cat-head, and her foresail wet with spray to the height of its reef-band. It was grand sailing, exhilarating as a draught of wine, maddening in the feeling of recklessness that it begot; but, all the same, I did not believe that we were doing more than perhaps just holding our own with the _Virginia_; it was not under such conditions as those that we were likely to overhaul her; our chance would come when, as we gradually neared the equator, the wind grew more shy and fitful. Nevertheless, I kept a look-out in the fore-topmast cross-trees throughout the hours of daylight, to make sure that we should not overtake her unexpectedly. We carried on all through that night, and the next day, and the next, with the breeze still holding strong, yet there was no sign of the chase; and, meanwhile, the carpenter informed me we were straining the ship all to pieces and opening her seams to such an extent that the pumps had to be tended for half an hour at a time twice in each watch; while the boatswain was kept in a perpetual state of anxiety lest his rigging should give way under the strain. At length, on the afternoon of the fourth day after parting from the _Eros_, the wind began to moderate somewhat rapidly, with the result that by sunset our lee scuppers were dry, although we still had all our flying kites aloft; and that night the watch below were able to bring their mattresses on deck and sleep on the forecastle, a luxury which had hitherto been impossible during our headlong race across the Atlantic. And now I began to feel sanguine that before many hours were over we should see the mastheads of the _Virginia_ creeping above the horizon somewhere ahead of us; for I felt convinced that, in the moderate weather which we were then experiencing, we had the heels of her. But when the next morning dawned, with the trade-wind breathing no more than a gentle zephyr, the look-out, upon going aloft, reported that the horizon was still bare; which, however, was not to say that the chase might not be within a dozen miles of us, for the atmosphere was exceedingly hazy, and heavy with damp heat which was very oppressive and relaxing, to such an extent, indeed, that the mere act of breathing seemed to demand quite an effort. After taking my usual morning bath under the head pump, I made my way below to my state-room to dress, and found Keene sitting in the main cabin, on one of the sofa lockers, attired only in shirt and trousers, perspiring freely, and in a general state of limpness that was pitiable to behold. "Morning, skipper!" he gasped. "I say, isn't this heat awful? Worse, even, than that on the Coast, I think! And what has become of all the wind? I say, I suppose we haven't made a mistake in our reckoning, and run down on to the Line unbeknownst, have we?" "If we have," said I severely, "the mistake is yours Master Jack; for, as you are very well aware, I have been entrusting the navigation of this ship to you." Which, by the way, was only true in a certain sense; for while I had given the young man to understand that, for his own benefit and advantage, I intended to make him perform the duty of master, and hold him responsible for the navigation, I had taken care to maintain a strict check upon his calculations and assure myself that he was making no mistakes. Of which fact he was of course quite aware. Wherefore his reply to my retort was simply to change the subject with some celerity. "I say, old chap," he remarked, "you look awfully cool and comfy. Been under the head pump, as usual, I suppose. Upon my word, if it were not for the possibility--not to say the extreme probability--of being snapped up by a shark, I should like to go overboard in a bowline and be towed for half an hour. And--talking of sharks--have you noticed how often we have seen the beggars following us since we have been in this ship? I suppose her timbers have become saturated, as it were, with the odour of the slaves she has carried, and so--but, hillo! what has happened to the barometer?" I glanced at the instrument, which, together with a tell-tale compass, swung from the skylight transoms, and saw that the mercury had sunk in the tube to the extent of nearly an inch since the last setting of the vernier; and, as it was our custom in the Slave Squadron at that time to set the instrument at 8 o'clock a.m. and 8 o'clock p.m., it meant that the mercury had fallen to that extent during the night! What was about to happen? I had observed nothing portentous in the aspect of the weather, while on deck, unless, indeed, the softening away of the trade- wind and the hazy condition of the atmosphere might be regarded as portents. Yet that could hardly be, for I had observed the same phenomena before, yet nothing particular had come of it. I decided to have a talk with Tasker, the gunner's mate, and get his views on the matter; he was a man of very considerable experience, having been a sailor before I was born; I therefore at once entered my cabin, and proceeded to dress; after which I returned to the deck, where Tasker was officer of the watch. I found him sitting aft on the stern grating, replacing his socks and shoes, which he had removed from his feet at four bells in order to take a leading part in the matutinal ceremony of washing decks. I had already seen him a little earlier that morning, and exchanged greetings with him; I therefore at once, and without any circumlocution, plunged into the subject by asking: "What do you think of the look of the weather, Mr Tasker; is there anything unusual about it, in your opinion?" Tasker rose to his feet and cast a prolonged glance at the sky before replying. Then he said slowly: "I can't say as I sees anything much out of the common about it, so far, Mr Fortescue. The wind's dropped a bit more than's quite usual, certainly; but I don't know as there's very mich in that. And then there's this here thickness o' the hatmosphere--well, that may or may not mean somethin', but I don't see anything alarmin' about it just yet. Why d'ye ask the question, sir? Is the glass droppin' at all?" "It has dropped nearly an inch since it was set last night," I answered. "Phew! Nearly an inch since eight bells last night!" ejaculated the old salt, with an air of concern. "That means, sir, that it have fallen that little lot since midnight; for I looked at it then, when Mr Keene relieved me, and it hadn't dropped nothin' then." "Then what is going to happen?" I demanded. "Are we going to have a hurricane?" "I should say yes, Mr Fortescue, most decidedly," answered Tasker. "And yet," he continued, again carefully scanning the sky, "I must confess I don't see nothin' very alarmin' up there at present. I s'pose the mercury bag haven't sprung a leak, by no chance, have it? This here sudden drop reminds me of a yarn a shipmate of mine once told me about a scare he had when he was in the sloop _Pyramus_ in the Indian Ocean, outward bound to the China station. The scare started with a sudden fall of the barometer, just as it might be in this here present case, and it went on droppin' until the skipper began to think he was booked for the biggest blow as ever come away out o' the 'eavens. He started by sendin' down royal and t'gallan' yards and housin' the t'gallan' masts. Then, as the mercury still went on droppin', he shortened sail to close-reefed fore and main taups'ls, sent the t'gallan' masts down on deck, and housed the topmasts. While this work was goin' on the mercury kept fallin' until it sank out o' sight altogether; and the skipper had actually given the order to furl the taups'ls and send the yards and masts down when the cabin steward happened to make the discovery that the mercury bag had busted and the mercury from the barometer was rollin' in little balls all over the cabin floor! My mate told me that the time in which they got that there _Pyramus_ ataunto again, that day, and the royals upon her, was never a'terwards beaten!" I could not avoid a good hearty laugh at this quaint story of a phenomenal fall of the mercury in a barometer; for it was easy to conjure up a picture of the rapidly growing alarm and dismay of the captain as he watched the steady and speedy shrinkage of the metallic column, and of the feverish anxiety and haste with which he would proceed with his preparations to meet the swoop of the supposedly approaching typhoon, as also of his disgust at the discovery that all his alarm and anxiety had been brought about by the unsuspected leakage of a leather bag! But the story served as a hint to me; what had happened once might happen again; and I forthwith retired to the cabin and carefully examined our own instrument to discover whether, haply, such an accident had occurred in our case. But no, the bag into which the base of the glass tube was plunged was perfectly sound and intact; and, meanwhile, during my brief colloquy with Tasker a further fall of a full tenth had occurred. I lost no time in returning to the deck. "The scare is quite genuine this time, Mr Tasker," I said; "there is no leakage in our mercury bag to account for the heavy drop; moreover, the drop has increased by a full tenth. Therefore, although the present aspect of the weather may not be precisely alarming, we will proceed to snug down at once, if you please, in view of the fact that the crew we carry is not precisely what might be called efficient, and will probably take an unconscionably long time over the work." "Ay, ay, sir," answered Tasker. "I expect the mercury ain't droppin' exactly for nothin', therefore, as you says, we'd better be makin' ready for what's in store for us." Then, facing forward, he gave the order: "Clew up your royal and t'garns'l, furl 'em, and then get the yards down on deck. Hurry, you scallywags; the more work you does now, the more time for play will you have a'ter breakfast." The "snugging down" process occupied us until nearly four bells of the forenoon watch; but when at length it was completed we felt that we were prepared to face anything, our royal and topgallant-mast and all our yards being down on deck, the fore and main-topmasts and the jib-boom housed, the great mainsail snugly stowed and the heavy boom securely supported in a strong crutch, and the ship under fore and main storm staysails only. CHAPTER ELEVEN. THE END OF THE DOLPHIN. By the time that all this had been accomplished, the wind had fallen away to a dead calm, and the only sounds audible were the creaking and groaning of the ship's timbers, the loud rattle of the cabin doors below upon their hooks, the wash of the sea alongside and under the counter, the constant irritating _jerk-jerk_ of the tiller chains, and the violent rustle and slatting of the staysails, as the _Dolphin_ rolled her channels under in the long, oily swell that was now running. But, so far as the aspect of the sky was concerned, there was no more sign of the threatened storm than there had been when I first went on deck that morning--except that, maybe, the haze had thickened somewhat, rendering our horizon still more circumscribed, and the heat had increased to such an extent that, as Keene had remarked, one would gladly have gone overboard to escape it but for the sharks, several of which were cruising round us, while three monsters persistently hung under our counter in the shadow of the ship's hull, hungrily ogling those of us who chanced to lean over the taffrail to get a glimpse of them. Yet, when, for want of something better to do, Jack Keene and I got a shark hook and, baiting it with a highly flavoured piece of pork out of the harness cask, sought to inveigle one of the monsters into swallowing it, they disdained to even so much as look at it, merely glancing upward at us, when we deftly dropped the bait upon one of their broad, shovel noses, as though to say: "No, no, my hearties! No rancid pork for us, thank you, when, by exercising a little patience, we may, with luck, get a chance to learn what one of you jokers tastes like." The enervating effect of the heat seemed to be as strongly revealed in them as it was in ourselves. The sun still flamed in the heavens when, shortly before noon, Jack and I brought our sextants on deck with the object of measuring his meridian altitude above the horizon; but we were only able to obtain a very approximate and wholly useless result, for, when we came to try, we found that the sun appeared in our instruments merely as a shapeless glare of light, while the horizon was wholly indistinguishable. Then, by imperceptible degrees, the sun, like the horizon, became obliterated, and the atmosphere stealthily darkened, as though a continuous succession of curtains of grey gauze were being interposed between us and the sky. Meanwhile the barometer was still persistently declining, although not quite so rapidly as during the early hours of the morning. It was about six bells in the afternoon watch when, with a sudden darkening of the sky, that came upon us like the gloom of night, it began to rain--a regular tropical deluge, sluicing down upon us in sheets, as though the bottom of a cloud had dropped out; and within less than a minute our decks were more than ankle-deep in warm fresh water, and our scuppers were running full. The downpour lasted for perhaps a minute and a half, and then ceased as abruptly as though a tap had been turned off, and we heard the shower passing away to the northward of us, leaving us with streaming decks and dripping canvas and rigging. But, although the rain had come and gone again in the space of a couple of minutes, the darkness intensified rather than otherwise, and presently we heard a muttering of distant thunder away down in the southern quarter, followed, after a while, by a further dash of rain, lasting for a few seconds only. Then, all in a moment, and without any further warning, the blackness overhead was riven by the most appallingly vivid flash of lightning that I had ever seen, accompanied--not followed--by a crash of thunder that temporarily deafened all hands of us and caused the ship to quiver and tremble from stem to stern. Then, while we were all standing agape, our ears deafened by the thunder and our eyes blinded by the glare of the lightning, a fierce gust of hot wind swept over us, filling our two staysails with a report like that of a cannon and laying the ship over to her sheer-strake. Tasker, who was again officer of the watch, at once sprang to the wheel and assisted the helmsman to put it hard up; but almost before the ship had begun to gather way the first fierceness of the gust had passed, leaving us little more than a fresh breeze. I therefore went aft and shouted to them--for they were as deaf as I was-- to bring the vessel up to her course again, when we began to move through the water at a speed of some five knots. That first terrible flash of lightning and crash of thunder was, however, only the beginning of the most awful electric storm that it has ever been my fate to witness, the sky, now black as night, being rent in half a dozen different directions at once by fierce, baleful flashes, green, blue, crimson, and sun-bright, while the bombarding of the thunder was absolutely terrifying, even to us who were by this time growing quite accustomed to tropical storms. With it there came frequent short, sharp, intermittent bursts of rain that swept across our decks, stinging the exposed skin like shot, and enshrouding everything beyond a couple of fathoms away in impenetrable obscurity. Now, too, there came, at irregular but quickly recurring intervals, savage gusts of wind that smote the ship as though she had been but a child's toy, heeling her down until her lee rail was awash, and holding her thus for two or three minutes at a time, then easing up for a short space, the "easing up" intervals, however, steadily growing more abbreviated, while the gusts that invariably followed them rapidly grew in intensity and fury, until after the passage of one that had pinned us down for three or four minutes, with our lee sheer-poles buried in the smother, I thought that the time had arrived to heave-to, and gave the order to do so. Nor was I any too soon; for the sea was rapidly rising, and a quarter of an hour later we probably could not have accomplished the feat without having had our decks swept. The gale now rapidly increased in intensity, the gusts of wind ever growing stronger and more furious, and succeeding each other more rapidly, until at length the intervals between them became so brief as to be practically imperceptible, the strength of the wind now being equal to that of a heavy gale, and momentarily growing stronger as gust after gust swooped down upon us. The blinding, drenching showers that occasionally swept us were no longer composed of fresh water only, for there was a strong mingling of salt-water in them that was none other than the tops of the waves, torn off by the terrific blasts of wind and hurled along horizontally in the form of vast sheets of spray. The sea, meanwhile, was rising with astounding rapidity, taking into consideration the fact that, as just stated, the height of the combers was greatly reduced by the enormous volumes of water that were scooped up from the ocean's surface by the fury of the wind; moreover the sea was short, steep, and irregular, much more nearly resembling the breakers on a coast in shallow water, than the long, regular, majestically moving seas of the open ocean. The _Dolphin_, therefore, despite her beautiful model and the reduction of her tophamper, was beginning to make exceedingly bad weather of it, frequently burying herself to her foremast, and careening so heavily that during some of her lee rolls it was impossible to maintain one's footing on deck except by holding on to something. At length, about four bells in the first watch, the lightning, which had hitherto almost continuously illuminated the atmosphere, suddenly ceased altogether, and the night grew intensely dark, the only objects remaining visible being the faintly phosphorescent heads of the seas, flashing into view and gleaming ghostly for a moment before they were torn into spray by the violence of the wind and whirled away through the air to leeward. Then, with almost equal suddenness, there came a positively startling lull in the strength of the wind, and the ship-- which had for some hours been laying over to it so steeply that movement about her decks was only to be achieved with great circumspection and by patiently awaiting the arrival of one's opportunity--suddenly rose almost to an even keel. I seized the chance thus afforded me to claw my way to the skylight and glance through it at the barometer, illuminated by the wildly swaying lamp which the steward had lighted when darkness fell, but, to my intense disappointment, the mercury, which had steadily been shrinking all day, exhibited a further drop since the index had been set at eight o'clock that evening. "We have not yet seen the worst of it," I shouted to Tasker, who, although it was now his watch below, had elected to remain on deck and bear me company. "The glass is still going down." "I'm very sorry to hear it, Mr Fortescue," he answered. "I don't like the look of things at all. The ship has been most terrible uneasy for several hours now, and I'm afraid we shall find that she's been strainin' badly. It might not be amiss to sound the well; and if, as I fear, we find that she's been takin' water in through her seams, I'd advise--" His further speech was cut short by a terrific blast of wind that swooped down upon us like a howling, screaming fiend, without a moment's warning. So violent was it that Tasker and I were both swept off our feet and dashed to the deck, where I brought up against the cabin companion with a crash that all but knocked the senses out of me, while the gunner's mate disappeared in the direction of the lee scuppers. The yelling and screaming of the wind was absolutely appalling, the volume of sound being such that nothing else could be heard above it; and in the midst of the din I became vaguely conscious that the ship was going over until she lay upon her beam ends, with her deck almost perpendicular, and the water up to the level of her hatchways. For a few seconds I lay where I was, on the upturned side of the companion, listening to the water pouring into the cabin with every lee roll of the ship, and endeavouring to pull together my scattered faculties; then, dimly realising that something must be done to relieve the ship if we would not have her founder beneath us, I scrambled to my feet and, seizing a rope's end that came lashing about me, dragged myself up to the weather rail, clinging to which I slowly and painfully worked my way forward, shouting for the carpenter as I did so. At length, arrived at the fore rigging, I came upon a small group of men who had somehow contrived to climb up to windward and out upon the ship's upturned side, where they were now desperately hacking away with their knives at the lanyards of the weather fore rigging. "That's right, lads!" I exclaimed, whipping out my own knife and lending a hand; "we must cut away the masts and get the ship upright again, or she will go down under us. Where is the carpenter? Let him bring along his axe. He will do more good in one minute than we can in ten." "I'm afraid, sir, as Chips has gone overboard with some more when the ship was hove down. But I'll see if I can get into the fo'c's'le and lay my hand upon his axe," answered one of the men. "Do so by all means," I returned; "and be quick about it. I would go myself, but you will know better than I where to find the axe; and even moments are precious just now." They were, indeed; for it was easy to tell, by the feel of the ship, that she was becoming waterlogged, and every gallon of water that now poured into her seriously decreased our chances of saving her. But it was bad news to learn that the carpenter, "with some more" men, had been lost overboard when the ship was thrown upon her beam-ends; yet, when I came to recall the suddenness of the event, the surprising thing was that any of us had survived it. This reminded me of Tasker, and set me wondering whether he had been as fortunate as myself, or whether that last awful lurch had been as fatal to him as it had been to some others among us. Meanwhile we continued to hack away with our knives at the lanyards, and presently, after what appeared to have been a terribly protracted interval, but which was probably not more than a couple of minutes, the last lanyard parted with a twang, and the next instant, with a crash heard even through the terrific hubbub of the gale, the foremast snapped close off by the deck and plunged, with all attached, into the boil to leeward. Then we breathlessly waited, hoping that, thus relieved, the ship would recover herself, and for a moment it almost seemed that she would do so; but just at the critical moment the gale swooped down heavier than ever, and at the same instant an extra heavy sea struck her, and down she lay again, as though too tired to struggle further. "It is no good, men," I cried, "she won't rise. Lay aft, and cut away the mainmast also. It is our only chance!" And, therewith, we all crawled along the ship's side--escaping being washed off or blown overboard only by a series of miracles, as it seemed to me--until we arrived at the main chains, where we had something to cling to, and where the channel-piece partially sheltered us. Here we at once got to work with all our energy upon the weather main lanyards, and, the man with the axe presently joining us, in a few minutes the mainmast also went over the side. "Now, inboard with you, men, as smart as you like," I cried. "If she is going to rise at all she may do so quite suddenly, in which case we run the risk of being hove overboard if we remain here." We all scrambled in on deck, steadying ourselves by such of the running rigging as we could lay hold of; and we had scarcely done so when the hull partially recovered its upright position, not quite so suddenly as I had expected, yet with a quick righting movement that left our decks knee-deep in water. I sprang to the companion and strove to close the burst-open doors and so prevent any further influx of water to the cabin; but the heavy washing sounds that came up from below told me that my efforts were already too late to be of any service, for the cabin seemed to be flooded to almost half the height of the companion ladder, and the sluggish motions of the ship told me eloquently enough that she was perilously near to a foundering condition. I therefore rallied the men and bade them get to work at the pumps forthwith; and it was then that I discovered, to my horror, that, of our complement of sixty, we had lost no fewer than fourteen, including my messmate, poor Jack Keene, and Tasker, the gunner's mate, all of whom must have gone overboard when the vessel was thrown down on her beam-ends! It was a most deplorable affair, and I was especially grieved at the loss of my light-hearted chum; but that was not the moment for indulgence in useless lamentation, and I busied myself in doing what might be possible to provide for the safety of the ship. First of all I got a strong gang to work at the pumps in two relays, each taking a spell of ten minutes pumping, followed by an equal length of time for rest. When I had fairly started these, and saw the water gushing in a clear stream from the spouts of both pumps, I set the rest to work cutting away all the rigging which still held the wreckage of the masts attached to the hull, leaving the fore and fore-topmast stays untouched, my intention being that the drift of the hull should bring the wreckage under the bows, where, being held fast by the stays, it should form a sort of floating anchor to which the ship should ride head to wind and sea. Thus we might hope that she would no longer ship water in such quantities as to threaten her safety. After nearly an hour's hard labour we succeeded, during which it appeared to me that the men were making little or no impression upon the amount of water in the hold. But, as I had hoped, when once we had brought the hull head to wind she no longer shipped water in any very alarming quantities; and after watching her carefully for some minutes I came to the conclusion that we might safely venture to open the after hatchway and supplement the efforts of those at the pumps by baling with buckets. Before starting the pumps I had taken the precaution of having the well sounded, with the result that we had discovered the depth of water in the ship's interior to be three feet ten inches, as nearly as could be ascertained; but the violent motions of the hull had rendered anything like really accurate sounding an impossibility, and the same cause now precluded us from ascertaining with certainty whether the leak was gaining upon the pumps or _vice-versa_. One thing was perfectly certain, and that was that if the pumps were gaining upon the leak at all, it was but slowly. If that should prove to be the case, it would mean that there was something the matter more serious than the mere straining of the ship; possibly a butt or a hood-end had been started. It was by this time close upon midnight, and there were times when I almost succeeded in persuading myself that it was not blowing quite so hard as it had been, although the difference--if difference there were-- was certainly not very strongly marked; the sea, however, still continued to rise, and was now running higher than I had ever before seen it. Yet the poor, sorely battered _Dolphin_ rode it reasonably well, all things considered; although there were times when the water in her interior, happening to become concentrated in the fore part of her just as she should be rising to a sea, pinned her down by the head to a dangerous extent, causing the sea to come in, green, unbroken, and like a miniature mountain, over her bows. When this threatened to occur it became necessary to watch her narrowly, and if the danger seemed to be imminent we hurriedly replaced the after hatches, otherwise we should very quickly have been swamped. When the pumping gangs had been at work for about an hour they complained of exhaustion, and I accordingly relieved them to the extent of setting them to work with the buckets and putting two fresh gangs at the pumps; yet, although these men worked pretty energetically, it soon became evident that we were not gaining anything upon the leak, and as time passed on it became exceedingly doubtful whether the leak were not rather gaining upon us. Moreover, as the sea continued to rise the vessel's movements became more laboured, and she again began to take the water aboard in such dangerous quantities that at length we were reluctantly compelled to abandon our baling operations, and close the hatches to prevent the heavy seas from reaching her interior. In this fashion the seemingly endless night at length wore itself away and the lowering dawn came, disclosing to us the true seriousness of our condition. There we were, aweary, hollow-eyed, haggard-looking little band, sodden to the very bones of us with long hours of exposure to the pitiless buffeting of rain and sea, our flesh salt-encrusted, our eyes bloodshot, our hands raw and bleeding with the severe and protracted work at the pumps, adrift in mid-ocean upon a mastless, sorely battered, and badly leaking hulk, with her ballast shifted and a heavy list, tossed helplessly upon a furiously raging sea that seemed instinct with a relentless determination to overwhelm us, toiling and fighting doggedly against the untiring elements, in the hope that, perchance, if our strength held out, we might keep the now crazy, straining, and complaining fabric beneath us afloat long enough to afford us some chance of saving our lives. Yet the hope was, after all, but a slender one; for with the coming of daylight we were able to see that our plight was very considerably worse than we had dreamed it to be during the hours of darkness; for _then_ we had believed that the loss of our masts and the springing of a somewhat serious leak represented the sum total of our misfortunes; while _now_ we saw, to our unspeakable dismay, that, with the solitary exception of the longboat, the whole of our boats were so badly damaged as to be altogether beyond our ability to repair; of two of them, indeed, nothing save the stem and stern remained dangling forlornly from the davit tackles. But that, bad though it was, was not the worst; for it was no longer possible for us to blind ourselves to the fact that the leak was gaining upon us inexorably, and that, even though we should continue to toil with unabated energy, we could not keep the ship afloat longer than a few hours more, at the utmost. And then what were we to do? The longboat, fine boat though she was, when stocked with even a meagre supply of provisions and water, would not accommodate more than twenty-five men, and I gravely doubted whether she would live ten minutes in such a sea as was then running, with half that number in her. Still, with the exception of such a raft as we might be able to put together, she was all that we had, and half an hour of daylight sufficed to show me that no time must be lost in making preparations to quit the slowly foundering ship. Yet it would not do for us to leave the pumps for a moment; one gang must, at all costs, be kept hard at work pumping out as much as possible of the water that was pouring in through the open seams, otherwise the leak would gain upon us so rapidly that the ship would settle from under us long before we were ready to face such a catastrophe. I therefore at once set about the formulating of my plans and carrying them into effect. First of all, while one gang kept the pump-brakes clanking and the clear water spouting out upon our streaming deck, I got another gang to work at launching the guns overboard as the roll of the ship permitted--and this, I was glad to see, eased the poor labouring craft quite perceptibly. This done, all hands, except those at the pumps, went to breakfast, the meal consisting of hot coffee sweetened with molasses, and ship's biscuit, more or less sodden with salt-water--for with the coming of daylight and the preparation of breakfast the unwelcome discovery had been made that the salt-water had got at the provisions and gone far toward spoiling them. Then, as soon as the first gang had finished breakfast, they relieved those at the pumps, who in their turn took breakfast and next proceeded to clear away the longboat and prepare her for launching, by providing her with a proper supply of oars and thole-pins, her rudder and tiller, masts and sails, and then carefully stowing her stock of water and provisions. But when all this was done it was still blowing too hard--although the worst of the gale seemed to be over--and the sea was altogether too rough to allow of our attempting to launch her. We therefore next got to work upon a raft, first of all lashing all our spare spars together as a sort of foundation, and then, upon the top of this, lashing the hen-coops, gratings, a few planks that the carpenter had stowed away down below, and, finally, some lengths of bulwark that we cut away for the purpose. This raft, when completed, was a fairly roomy affair, affording space enough to stow away some thirty people, together with a good supply of provisions and water, which we now proceeded to get up from below and stow; the cook, meanwhile, industriously boiling as much beef and pork as he could crowd into his coppers. Then we knocked off and piped to dinner; and while we were getting this--probably the last meal of which we should ever partake aboard the poor old _Dolphin_--our hearts were gladdened by a sudden burst of sunshine breaking through the clouds, and half an hour later the sky to windward was clear, the sun was shining brilliantly and pouring his welcome warmth upon our chilled bodies and saturated clothing, while the gale had broken and was fast moderating, having already declined to the strength of a double-reefed topsail breeze. The sea, too, was no longer raging like a boiling cauldron; yet, even so, it was still too heavy to justify us in attempting to launch either the longboat or the raft. And now, at the very moment when it was most necessary that the crew should preserve an orderly and obedient disposition, they suddenly broke into open mutiny, flatly refusing to work any longer at the pumps; declaring that the ship was good for at least another hour, and that before that had passed we should all be safely away from her; that there was no sense in wanting to keep the ship afloat longer than there was any absolute need for; and that the time had now arrived when they must begin to think of saving their own personal belongings. When I attempted to remonstrate with them and point out the folly of their behaviour they became virulently abusive, and declared that if I wanted the pumps kept going I might keep them going myself--and this although I had already done considerably more than my fair share of that back- breaking labour. Therewith they abandoned the pumps and betook themselves forward to the forecastle, from which there shortly afterward came floating to my horrified ears loud peals of maudlin laughter, mingled with snatches of ribald songs and coarse jests, whereby I came to know, all too late, that, while getting up the provisions from below, some of them must have broken into the spirit-room and possessed themselves of a very considerable supply of rum, upon which they were now fast drinking themselves into a condition of reckless indifference to the awful danger that threatened them. Anything, I thought, was better than this; therefore, having first gone down below and brought up the chronometer, my sextant, and a chart of the Atlantic, and stowed the whole carefully in the stern-sheets of the longboat, loaded my pistols, and girded my sword to my side, I went forward to the fore-scuttle and, putting my head into it, shouted in as cheery a tone as I could summon: "Now then, lads, tumble up on deck, all hands of you. We have still a great deal to do, and very little time to do it in; therefore let us see about getting the longboat into the water, and the raft over the side. There will be time enough to rest when we are safe away from the wreck." "All ri', schipper, don' you worry," bawled a great hulking Dutchman in reply. "Dere's blendy of dime yet; and ve're nod going do move undil ve've vinished dhis grog." Then another--an American this time--took up the tale, shouting, "Go 'way, little man, go 'way! Wha' d'you mean, anyway, by comin' here and disturbin' gen'lemen when they're busy? Come in and have a drink with us, youngster, just to show that you're not stuck up. I guess we're all equals in this dandy little barkie; yes, sirree! I'm a free-born 'Murican, I am, an' just as good as you or any other blamed Britisher, and don' you forget it. So, if you won' come in an' have a drink, take your ugly-lookin' mug out o' the daylight, d'ye hear?" To emphasise this polite request the man seized a heavy sea boot from the forecastle deck and hove it at me, with so poor an aim that instead of hitting me he dashed it into the face of an Englishman who happened at the moment to be drinking rum out of a pannikin. The blow dashed the pannikin out of the man's hand, and splashed the fiery spirit all over his face and into his eyes; and the next instant, with a low, fierce growl of concentrated ferocity, he sprang to his feet and struck the free-born 'Murican a smashing blow under the chin that sent him sprawling. "You have no time to waste in fighting, lads," I cried, for I felt that the ship was fast settling under our feet. But my voice was completely drowned in the babel of angry yells that instantly arose, for it appeared that the men were, after their own fashion, rivals for leadership in the forecastle, and each man had his own partisans, every one of whom instantly took up the quarrel of his own favourite, and in another moment the whole of them were at each others' throats, like so many quarrelsome dogs. "Let the drunken, mutinous brutes fight it out among themselves," I muttered disgustedly as I turned and walked away. "They will get a sobering-up before very long that will astonish them, or I am greatly mistaken!" As I walked aft I could tell, by the feel of the ship, that her race was nearly run--although I did not at that moment dream how very near to her end she was--and I paused abreast of the longboat to satisfy myself that she was quite ready for launching out through the wide gap that we had made in the bulwarks when cutting them away to provide material for the construction of the raft. The gripes, I saw, had been cast off, and the boat was supported solely by her chocks, upon which she stood upright on the main hatchway. Suddenly, stooping down, a small spot of bright light in the deep shadow under the boat caught my eye, and looking closer I saw that some careless rascal had omitted to put in the plug, and that the bright spot of light was caused by the sun shining down through the unplugged hole in the boat's bottom. With a muttered objurgation of the fellow's carelessness, I climbed into the boat and, stooping down, sought for the plug. I was seeking for perhaps two or three minutes before I found it, but as I was about to abandon the search, and hunt for a suitable cork out of which to cut another, my eye fell upon the missing plug, and I at once inserted it and proceeded to drive it tightly home. I had just completed the job to my satisfaction when I felt the ship lurch heavily. There was a sudden, violent rush and wash of water, and I sprang to my feet barely in time to see the boat caught up on the crest of a sea that came sweeping, green and solid, through the gap in the starboard bulwarks, and carried clear and clean out through the corresponding gap in the port side! The longboat had launched herself; and before I could collect my senses, or lift a hand, I found myself adrift alone, some twenty fathoms to leeward of the doomed ship, and driving farther away from her every moment. CHAPTER TWELVE. ALONE IN THE LONGBOAT. To seize one of the long, heavy ash oars that formed part of the boat's equipment, fling the blade over the stern, and jerk the oar into the sculling notch, with the idea of sculling the boat back to the wreck was, with me, the work of but a second or two; but although I contrived, with some labour, to get the boat's head round toward the _Dolphin_, and to keep it pointed in that direction, I soon discovered--as I might have had the sense to know--that to scull a big heavy boat like the longboat to windward against such a strong wind and so heavy a sea was a task altogether beyond the power of a single man, however strong he might be; for every sea that swept down upon the boat sent her surging away a good half-dozen fathoms to leeward. Finding this attempt useless, I at once hauled the oar inboard again, and proceeded to ship the rudder, which task I at length accomplished, with some difficulty owing to the violent motion of the boat; then I shipped the tiller; and next proceeded to loose the boat's canvas, with the idea of beating back to the ship. But here again I found myself seriously hampered and delayed by the circumstance that, when equipping the boat, the men had only half done their work. The boat was rigged as a fore and aft schooner, setting a main trysail, fore trysail, and a staysail secured to the head of the stem; and while the masts had been stepped and the shrouds set up hand-taut, I found, upon casting loose the sails, that they had omitted to obey my instructions to close-reef them, and since the wind was still blowing altogether too hard for the boat to carry anything more than close-reefed canvas I lost quite ten minutes in reefing and setting the mainsail and staysail--I dared not attempt to set the foresail also, for I did not believe that the boat could carry it. And when at length I had got the canvas set and the boat fairly under way, I found, to my consternation, that I had driven a good half-mile to leeward of the ship, by which time, their quarrel, I suppose, being over, the men had left the forecastle and, finding that I had gone adrift in the longboat, were making frantic signs to me to return. But I soon discovered that, even now, with the boat under canvas, to beat back to the ship was an impossibility; for the boat had not been built for sailing to windward in a strong breeze; she was the ordinary type of ship's longboat, constructed to carry a heavy load in proportion to her dimensions, with a long, flat floor, bluff bows, and with only some three inches of exposed keel; and while she might possibly, with skilful management, have been made to work to windward in very moderate weather, she now, with so strong a wind and so heavy a sea to battle with, drove to leeward almost as rapidly as she forged ahead. Nor did I dare to press her with any more canvas, for she was already showing more than was at all prudent, the stronger puffs careening her to her gunwale and taxing my seamanship to the utmost to prevent her from filling. Under such circumstances, with the boat demanding my utmost vigilance to keep her afloat, it will be readily understood that I was only able at intervals to cast a momentary glance toward the ship to see how she was faring, and even then it was not always possible for me to catch a glimpse of her because of the mountainous seas that interposed themselves between her and me. At length, however, when I had been adrift about half an hour, I got a chance to take a fairly long look to windward at a moment when the longboat was hove up on the crest of an unusually lofty wave; but the ship was nowhere to be seen; nor did I again catch sight of her, or even of the raft; and the only conclusion at which I could arrive was that she had gone down and taken all hands with her. But, in such a mountainous sea as was then running, the horizon of a person in a boat is naturally very restricted, and I knew that, although I had failed to catch a glimpse of either the wreck or the raft, the latter at least might be afloat, and my plain duty was to remain in the neighbourhood so long as there was any chance of falling in with it; I therefore watched my opportunity and, seizing a favourable moment, wore the boat round on the other tack and, again bringing her to the wind, went back as nearly over the ground I had already traversed as was possible. But although I kept a sharp look-out, and wore round every half-hour, I saw nothing, no, not even so much as a fragment of floating wreckage, to indicate what had actually happened; nor did I ever hear of any of my late crew being picked up. It was about four bells--two o'clock--in the afternoon watch when I last saw the wreck; and I beat about, remaining as near the spot as I could, until sunset. Then, having failed to fall in with or sight either the wreck or the raft, I came to the conclusion that I had seen the last of my mutinous crew, and that the time had arrived when I was quite justified in abandoning any further effort to find them, and might look after my own safety. The weather, by this time, had improved very considerably; the wind had been slowly but steadily moderating, and the sea, although still tremendously high, was not now breaking dangerously; the sky also had cleared and was without a cloud; there was therefore every prospect of a fine night, with a further steady improvement of the weather; the boat was no longer dangerously pressed by the amount of canvas that she was carrying, and I felt that I need be under no immediate apprehension regarding the future. Moreover my clothes had by this time dried upon my body, and I felt quite warm and comfortable. But I was both hungry and thirsty, for the so-called dinner that I had snatched aboard the _Dolphin_ had been a very hasty and meagre meal. I therefore hove the boat to, by lashing the tiller hard down and hauling the staysail sheet to windward, and then, finding that she rode quite comfortably and was taking care of herself, I proceeded to rummage among my stock of provisions, and soon had a hearty meal set out before me on the after thwart. By the time that I had finished my supper night had fallen, the stars were shining with the brilliance that they only display in the tropics, and I was beginning to feel the need of sleep; I therefore took a final look round, satisfied myself that all was right and that nothing was in sight, and then, heartily commending myself to the care of my Maker, I stretched myself out on the bottom-boards, and was almost instantly asleep. To say that I slept soundly that night would scarcely be speaking the truth; for, although I had pretty well satisfied myself before I lay down, that the weather was improving and that therefore I had little or no cause for immediate apprehension, a sailor quickly acquires the trick of maintaining a certain alertness, even in the midst of his slumbers, since he knows that the weather is his most formidable and treacherous enemy, against which he has always to be on his guard; and this faculty of alertness is of course especially active when, as in my own case, he has only himself to depend upon. Consequently I never completely lost consciousness throughout that night, the rush of the wind, the hiss of the sea, the occasional sprinkling of spray were all mechanically noted, and whenever the heel of the boat appreciably exceeded its normal angle I at once became momentarily awake; yet, notwithstanding this, when on the following morning--the first rays of the newly risen sun smote upon my closed eyelids, informing me of the arrival of a new day, I at once arose, refreshed and vigorous, and ready to face any emergency that the day might bring. My first act was to kneel down and return thanks for my preservation through the night and seek the protection and guidance of God throughout the day; after which I leaned over the boat's gunwale and freely laved my head, face, and hands in the clear salt-water. Then I set about preparing for myself the most appetising breakfast that my resources would permit; and while I was doing this and discussing the meal I carefully reviewed the entire situation, with a view to my arrival at an immediate decision as to my future proceedings. The chart which I had with me showed the position of the _Dolphin_ at the moment when my last observations were taken; and from this information I was able to deduce the approximate position of the spot where the vessel had foundered. This spot, I found, was, in round figures, one thousand miles from Sierra Leone, and fourteen hundred miles from the island of Barbadoes; but whereas Sierra Leone was almost dead to windward, Barbadoes was as directly dead to leeward; and a little calculation convinced me that while it would take me about thirty-six days to beat to windward the shorter distance, I might cover the longer, running pleasantly before the wind, in about twenty-four days, allowing, in both cases, for the boat being hove-to throughout the night to enable me to obtain necessary rest. Fortunately, I had with me not only the chart of the North Atlantic, but also a chronometer, sextant, nautical almanac, and boat compass; I was therefore equipped with every requisite for the efficient navigation of the boat, and had no fear of losing my way. I could consequently without hesitation choose what I considered to be the most desirable course, and it did not need any very profound reflection to convince me that this was to make the best of my way back to Barbadoes. I accordingly put up my helm, kept away before the wind, shook out all my reefs, and went sliding away to the westward, easily and comfortably, at a speed of some six knots per hour. The weather had by this time reverted to quite its normal condition; the trade-wind was blowing steadily, the sea had gone down, and I had nothing worse than a somewhat heavy swell to contend with; I therefore felt that, unless I should be so unfortunate as to fall in with another gale, there was no reason at all why I should not reach my destination safely, and without very much discomfort. My only trouble was that, running, as the boat now was, with the wind so far over the starboard quarter, I dared not release my hold upon the tiller for an instant, lest she should broach-to and, possibly, capsize. Whenever, therefore, it became necessary for me to quit the helm for the purpose of taking an astronomical observation, or otherwise, I had to heave-to, and, occasionally, to shorten sail while doing so, which kept me pretty actively employed, off and on, all day. Thus, about nine o'clock in the morning, I had to heave-to and leave the boat to take care of herself while I secured observations of the sun for the determination of the longitude; the same procedure had to be adopted again at noon when I took the sun's altitude for the determination of the latitude; and the preparation of a meal involved a further repetition of the manoeuvre. Thus I had no time to feel lonely, at least during the hours of daylight; but after nightfall, surrounded and hemmed in by the gloom and mystery of the darkness, with no companionship save that of the multitudinous stars--which, to my mind, never betray their immeasurable distance so clearly as when one is in mid-ocean--with the sough and moan of the night wind and the soft, seething hiss of the sea whispering in one's ears, the feeling of loneliness becomes almost an obsession, the sense of all-pervading mystery persistently obtrudes itself, and one quickly falls into a condition of readiness to believe the most incredible of the countless weird stories that sailors love to relate to each other, especially when this condition of credulity is helped, as it sometimes is, by the sudden irruption of some strange, unaccountable sound, or succession of sounds, upon the peaceful quietude and serenity of the night. These sounds are occasionally of the weirdest and most hair-raising quality; and while the startled listener may possibly have heard it asserted, time and again, by superior persons, that they emanate from sea birds, or from fish, he is perfectly satisfied that neither sea birds nor fish have ever been known to emit such sounds _in the daytime_, and the strain of superstition within him awakes and whispers all sorts of uncanny suggestions, the sea bird and fish theory being rejected with scorn. Moreover, those harrowingly mysterious sounds seem never to make themselves audible save when the accompanying circumstances are such as to conduce to the most startling and thrilling effect; thus, although I had now been knocking about at sea for more than three years, and had met with many queer experiences, I had never, thus far, heard a sound that I could not reasonably account for and attribute to some known source; yet on this particular night--my second night alone in the longboat--I was sitting comfortably enough in the stern-sheets, steering by a star--for I had no lantern wherewith to illuminate my compass--and thinking of nothing in particular, when suddenly a most unearthly cry came pealing out of the darkness on the starboard beam, seemingly not half a dozen yards away, and was twice repeated. I felt the hair of my scalp bristle, and a violent shudder thrilled through me as those dreadful cries smote upon my ear, for they seemed to be the utterance of some human being in the very last extremity of both physical and mental anguish, the protest of a lost soul being wrenched violently out of its sinful human tenement, cries of such utter, unimaginable despair as the finite mind of man is unable to find a cause for. Yet, despite the agony of horror that froze my blood, I instinctively thrust my helm hard down and flattened in the sheets fore and aft; for the thought came to me that, perchance, a few fathoms out there, veiled from sight in the soft, velvet blackness of the night, some poor wretch--a victim, like myself, to the fury of the late gale-- clinging desperately to a fragment of wreckage, might have caught a glimpse of the longboat's sails, sliding blackly along against the stars, and have emitted those terrible cries as a last despairing appeal for help and succour. Accordingly, as the boat swept round and came to the wind, careening gunwale-to as she felt the full strength of the night breeze in her dew-sodden canvas, I sprang to my feet and, clapping both hands funnel-wise to my mouth, sent forth a hail: "Ahoy, there! where are you? Keep up your courage, for help is at hand. Where are you, I say? Let me but know where to look for you and I'll soon be alongside. Shout again; for I can see no sign of you. Ahoy, there! _Ahoy_!! Ahoy!!!" The sound of my own voice, coming immediately after that terrible thrice-repeated cry, seemed somehow comforting and reassuring, and I now awaited a reply to my hail with a feeling in which there was more of curiosity than horror. But no reply came; and I once more lifted up my voice in tones of appeal and encouragement. Then, since I failed to evoke any response, I put the boat's helm down, and tacked, the conviction being strong within me that I could hit off, to an inch, the exact spot from which those dreadful sounds had come. So firmly convinced, indeed, was I of my ability to do this that when the boat came round I left the staysail sheet fast to windward, eased off the fore sheet, and stood by, leaning over the lee gunwale, in readiness to seize and haul inboard the drowning wretch who, I was fully persuaded, must be now almost under the boat's bilge. But, although the starlight was sufficiently brilliant to have betrayed, at a distance of seven or eight yards, the presence of such an object as a man clinging to a piece of floating wreckage, I could see nothing, no, not even so much as a scrap of floating weed. That I was bitterly disappointed--and also somewhat frightened--I freely admit; for I had somehow succeeded in convincing myself that those terrifying sounds had issued from the throat of a human being so close at hand that I could not possibly fail to find him; yet I had _not_ found him; had failed, indeed, to find the slightest suggestion of his presence; and if those sounds had not a human origin, _whence came they_? It was the mystery of the thing, as well as the weird, unearthly character of the cries, that sent a thrill of horror through the marrow, and made me almost madly anxious to find an explanation. I worked the boat to and fro athwart those few square yards of ocean for a full hour or more, and shouted myself hoarse, until I at length most unwillingly abandoned the search, and squared away to place as many miles as possible between myself and that unhallowed spot ere I attempted to sleep. It must have been past midnight before I had so far thrown off the feeling of horror induced by the uncanny experience that I have related as to admit of my contemplating seriously the idea of securing some rest; and even when at length I did so, and had completed all my preparations, such as shortening sail and heaving-to, it was still some time before oblivion came to me. But when it did, it was complete, for the weather was fine and had a settled appearance, the boat lay-to most admirably and took perfect care of herself, and altogether I felt so absolutely safe that there seemed to be no need at all for that peculiar attitude of alertness during sleep to which I have already alluded; my need of sound, refreshing slumber was great, and I lay down, determined to satisfy that need while the opportunity presented itself, and let myself go completely. Yet, although I had surrendered myself to sleep with the settled conviction of my absolute safety, and the feeling that my repose would continue until broken by the first rays of the morrow's sun, I awakened suddenly while it was yet quite dark and when, as it seemed to me, I had only been asleep a very few minutes. And my awakening was not that of a person who gradually passes from sleep to wakefulness because he has enjoyed a sufficiency of rest; it was an abrupt, instant transition from complete oblivion to a state of wide-awake, startled consciousness that caused me to leap to my feet and gaze wildly about me as my eyes snapped open to the star-lit heavens. And as I did so I became aware of a rapidly growing sound of leaping, splashing, gurgling water, and a humming as of wind sweeping through tightly strained cordage, close to leeward. There was no need for me to pause and consider what was the origin of these sounds; I recognised them instantly as those given forth by a sailing ship sweeping at a high speed through the water, and I sprang forward clear of the mainmast to where the stowed foresail permitted me a clear and uninterrupted view to leeward. The next instant three dreadful cries in quick succession--exactly reproducing, tone for tone, those terrifying sounds that had so startled and unnerved me only a few hours earlier--burst from my lips; for there, almost within reach of my hand, was the black, towering mass of the hull and canvas of a large ship bearing straight down upon the longboat, and aiming accurately to strike her fair amidships. So close was she that her long slender jib-boom, with the swelling jibs soaring high among the stars, was already over my head, the phosphorescent boil and smother from the plunge of her keen bows already foamed to the gunwale of the longboat. A startled shout rang out upon the heavy night air from somebody upon her forecastle in response to those weird cries of mine, and above the hissing wash and gurgle of the water under her bows I caught the sound of naked feet padding upon her deck-planking, as the rudely awakened look-out sprang to peer over the topgallant rail. But before the man could reach the spot for which he sprang the ship was upon me, and as her cutwater crashed into the frail hull of the boat, rending it asunder and flinging the two halves violently apart to roll bottom upward on either side of the swelling bows, I leapt desperately upward at the chain bobstay, caught it, shinned nimbly up it to the bowsprit, and made my breathless way inboard, to the terror and astonishment of some twenty forecastle hands who had evidently been startled out of a sound sleep by the sudden outcries and commotion under the bows, and into the midst of whom I unceremoniously tumbled. The excited jabber which instantly arose among my new shipmates at once apprised me that I was aboard a vessel manned by Frenchmen. A single quick glance aloft sufficed to inform me that she was barque-rigged, and probably of about three hundred and fifty tons measurement. The excited and astonished watch crowded round me, regarding me curiously--and, methought, with looks not wholly devoid of suspicion. They were, one and all, beginning to deluge me with questions, when an authoritative voice from the poop broke in with a demand to be informed what all the disturbance on the forecastle was about. Whereupon an individual among the crowd who surrounded me, and who might have been, and indeed proved to be, the boatswain, took me by the arm, and bluntly suggested that I had better accompany him aft to Monsieur Leroy, the chief mate, and explain my uninvited presence aboard the barque. It was, of course, the only thing to be done, and I accordingly turned and walked aft, with my arm still firmly grasped by the individual who had made the suggestion, and who seemed to regard me as his prisoner, until we reached the poop ladder, up which I was somewhat unceremoniously hustled, to find myself in the presence of a broad, sturdily built man of about middle height, who stood at the head of the ladder, with his feet wide apart, lightly balancing himself to the roll and plunge of the ship. There was a lighted lamp hanging in the skylight some two or three fathoms away, and as this man stood between me and the light, which somewhat feebly gleamed out through the skylight on to the deck, I was unable to see his features or the details of his dress; but as he stepped back and somewhat to one side to make way for me the light fell full upon me, and, feeble as it was, it sufficed to show him my uniform. "Ah!" he exclaimed sharply, "a British naval officer, if I am not very greatly mistaken. Pray, monsieur, where did you come from; and are there any more of you?" "I came in over the bows, a minute ago, out of a boat that--thanks to the blind look-out that your people seem to keep--you ran down and cut in two. And there are no more of us; I was the only occupant of the boat," I answered. "The only occupant of the boat!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "You amaze me, monsieur. Is it permissible to inquire how you, a British officer, come to be adrift, quite alone, in a boat, in the middle of the Atlantic?" Whereupon I told him briefly the story of the loss of the _Dolphin_, very imprudently adding the information that she was a unit of the Slave Squadron, and that I was her commander. "Ah!" he commented, incisively, when I had finished. "An exceedingly interesting story. Captain Tourville will be pleased that we have picked you up when he hears the news to-morrow. Meanwhile, by lucky chance we happen to have an unoccupied state-room into which I will put you for the remainder of the night. Thoreau,"--to the man who had conducted me aft--"take this gentleman below to the cabin; then turn out the steward and tell him to put some bedding into the spare state-room, but to be silent about it lest he disturb the captain. And now, monsieur, permit me to bid you good-night. I trust you will rest well." The man Thoreau, who seemed to be an individual of exceedingly glum and taciturn disposition, thereupon signed to me to follow him, and led the way down the poop ladder and through an open door in the front of the poop which gave access to a narrow passage, some eight feet long, at the end of which was another open door giving access to the ship's main cabin. This was a fairly roomy and comfortable apartment, plainly but tastefully fitted up, with a mahogany table running lengthwise down the middle, through the centre of which the mizenmast passed down to the depths below. A row of seats upholstered in red Utrecht velvet, and with swinging backs, was secured, on each side of the table, to the deck, between which and the sides of the cabin ran narrow strips of carpet. The sides and ends of the cabin were formed of bulkheads, the fore bulkhead being occupied by a sort of sideboard on each side of the entrance door, while against the after bulkhead stood a very handsome pianoforte, open, with a quantity of music in a stand beside it. There was a door to the right of the piano, which, I conjectured, led to the captain's state-room, right abaft; and the side bulkheads, which like the rest of the woodwork of the cabin were painted in white enamel, were each pierced by two doors, close together, which, I had no doubt, gave access to state-rooms. My surmise as to this arrangement was proved true, a few minutes later, by the steward, an ugly, shock-headed, taciturn individual, who, still more than half asleep, presently came stumbling into the cabin with a bundle of bedding, which, having with silent care opened the aftermost door on the port side, he flung into the dark state-room and then motioned me to enter; it appeared that he intended me to make up my own bed. Well, that was no very great hardship; but I should have liked a light to enable me to see what I was about, and I turned to ask my surly friend for one, but he had already turned his back upon me and was in full retreat to the forecastle to finish his interrupted night's rest. I therefore opened out the bundle and found that it consisted of a straw mattress, a flock pillow, and a pair of blankets, all of which I at once proceeded to arrange in the bunk, as best I could, by the dim light which entered the open door from the main cabin. Then I most thankfully removed my clothes--for the first time since the springing up of the gale--tumbled into the bunk, and at once fell fast asleep. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. IN THE POWER OF A MADMAN. The sounds of water being freely sluiced along the deck overhead, and of the vigorous use of holystones and scrubbing-brushes immediately following thereupon, awoke me on the following morning, and I opened my eyes to find the rays of the newly risen sun flashing off the heaving surface of the ocean through the open scuttle of the state-room which I occupied. Although I could not have been asleep more than three or four hours at most, I awoke wonderfully refreshed, and the memory of what had happened to me during the night instantly returning, I at once sprang out of the berth, determined to avail myself forthwith of the renewed opportunity of starting the day by taking a salt-water bath under the head pump. It took me but a few seconds to make my way out on deck, where I found the watch, under the supervision of the second mate, as I presumed, busily engaged in the operation of washing decks, while the fresh, invigorating trade-wind, sweeping in over the port cat-head, hummed and drummed with an exhilarating note through the taut weather rigging and into the hollows of the straining canvas overhead. The weather was brilliantly fine, the clear, deep azure of the sky merely flecked here and there with a few solemnly drifting puff-balls of trade- cloud, and the ocean of deepest blue sweeping in long, regular, sparkling, snow-capped surges diagonally athwart our bows, from beneath which the flying-fish continually sprang into the air and went flashing away on either hand, like handfuls of bright silver dollars new from the Mint. Merely to breathe such an exhilarating atmosphere, and to feel the buoyant, life-like lift and plunge of the straining, hurrying ship, were joys unspeakable, and I felt in positively hilarious spirits as I danced up the poop ladder to greet the officer of the watch, and prefer my modest request for a minute's use of the head pump. The individual whom I assumed to be the officer of the watch was a young fellow apparently not very much older than myself, attired in a somewhat dandified style of semi-uniform, bare-footed, and with his trousers rolled up above his knees. It was he who was sluicing the water about the poop so freely, while half-a-dozen of the crew vigorously plied the holystone and scrubber under his directions, and my first quick glance round the decks sufficed to show that the holystoning process was confined to the poop only, the cleansing of the main-deck seemed to be accomplished sufficiently by the application of the scrubber only. The exuberant buoyancy of my spirits suffered a sudden and distinct check as I glanced at the faces of those about me, which, without exception, seemed to belong to the lowest and most depraved class of seamen-- sullen, brutal, reckless, resembling, more than anything else, in air and expression, an assemblage of wild beasts, whose natural ferocity has not been eradicated but is held in check, subdued, and daunted by the constant exercise of a ferocity even greater than their own. The aspect of the young man whom I conceived to be the officer of the watch was even more repellent than that of his subordinates; and it was in distinctly subdued tones that I bade him good-morning and preferred my request to be allowed to take a bath under the head pump. He did not respond to my salutation, but, carefully placing upon the deck the bucket which he had just emptied, stood intently regarding me, with his feet wide apart and both hands upon his hips. He remained silent for so long a time that the men about him suspended their operations, regarding him with dull curiosity, while I felt my patience rapidly oozing away and my temper rising at the gratuitous insolence of his demeanour, and I was on the point of making some rather pungent remarks when he suddenly seemed to bethink himself, and said, in accents that were apparently intended to convey some suggestion of an attempt at civility: "So you are the British naval officer that Monsieur Leroy told me about when I relieved him, are you? And you want a bath, do you? Very well; go and take one, by all means. And, hark ye, Monsieur Englishman, a word in your ear. Take my advice, and after you have had your bath get back to your cabin, and stay there until the captain has been informed of your presence in the ship; for if he were to come on deck, and unexpectedly see you, the chances are that he would blow your brains out without thinking twice about it. He is not quite an angel in the matter of temper, and I may tell you that he is not too well disposed toward Englishmen in general, and English naval officers in particular. Now be off, get your bath, and scuttle back to your cabin as quickly as may be." "I am much obliged to you for your warning, monsieur," said I, "and I will act upon it. Do you care to increase my obligation to you by stating why your captain has such a--prejudice, shall we call it, against British naval officers?" "Well," replied my new acquaintance--whose name I subsequently learned was Gaston Marcel--"for one thing, this ship, which is his own property, is employed in the slave-trade, and Captain Tourville has already suffered much loss and damage through the meddlesome interference of your pestilent cruisers. But I believe he has other and more private reasons for his hatred of your nation and comrades." So that was it. After having suffered shipwreck, I had been run down and narrowly escaped with my life, only to fall into the hands of a Frenchman--and a slaver at that! Now, most slavers were little if anything better than pirates; they were outlaws whose crimes were punishable with death; trusting for their safety, for the most part, to the speed of their ships, but fighting with the desperation of cornered rats when there was no other way of escape; neither giving nor asking quarter; and, in many cases, guilty of the most unspeakable atrocities toward those hapless individuals serving in the Slave Squadron who were unfortunate enough to fall into their hands. This was especially true in the case of those who carried on their nefarious traffic under the French flag; for they were, almost without exception, West Indian Creoles, most of whom bore a dash of negro blood in their veins, therefore adding the inherited ferocity of the West African savage to the natural depravity of those to whose unbridled passions they owed their being. If, as was more than likely, I had fallen into the power of one of these fiends, my plight was like to be desperate indeed. I came to the conclusion that I could not do better than act upon the advice of the second mate, and abide the issue of events with as much equanimity as I could muster. Accordingly, as soon as I had taken my bath I returned to the state-room which had been assigned to me by the mate, and there remained _perdu_, awaiting the moment when that somewhat formidable individual the captain should be pleased to send for me. The approach to my state-room was, it will be remembered, through the main cabin; and as I passed through the latter the ugly, shock-headed steward, more ugly and more shock-headed now, in the garish light of day, than he had been when he presented himself fresh from his hammock on the night before--was down on his hands and knees busily engaged in scrubbing the cabin floor, while the strips of carpet and the table- cloth were rolled up and placed upon the table, the beautifully polished surface of which was partially protected by a large square of green baize. I bade the fellow good-morning; but he took no more notice of me than if I had never spoken; so I passed on and entered my sleeping apartment, closing the door behind me. I then proceeded to dress leisurely and perform my toilet as well as the means at my disposal would permit, but when it is remembered that I had no change of linen, and owned only the clothes which I happened to be wearing when I was washed off the wreck, it will be readily understood that when I had done all that was possible to render myself presentable the result still left much to be desired. The steward finished the washing and swabbing of the cabin deck, and then retired, returning about half an hour later--by which time the planks were dry--to relay the strips of carpet, replace the table-cloth, and arrange the table for breakfast, producing, somewhat to my surprise, a very elegant table-equipage of what, seen through the slats which formed the upper panel of my cabin door, appeared to be solid silver and quite valuable china. He had barely finished his task when seven bells struck on deck, and prompt upon the last stroke the door in the after bulkhead was thrown open and a man issued from it, and, passing rapidly through the cabin, with just a momentary pause to glance at the tell-tale barometer swinging in the skylight, made his way out on deck. I caught a glimpse of him, through the slats in the top panel of my door, as he passed, and judged him to be about thirty years of age. He was rather tall, standing about five feet ten inches in his morocco slippers; very dark--so much so that I strongly suspected the presence of negro blood in his veins--with a thick crop of jet-black hair, a luxuriantly bushy beard, and a heavy thick moustache, all very carefully trimmed, and so exceedingly glossy that I thought it probable that the gloss was due to artificial means. The man was decidedly good-looking, in a Frenchified fashion, and was a sea dandy of the first water, as was evidenced by the massive gold earrings in his ears, the jewelled studs in the immaculate front of his shirt of pleated cambric, his nattily cut suit of white drill, and the diamond on the little finger of his right hand, the flash of which I caught as he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the dazzle of the sun when glancing at the barometer. I heard his voice--a rather rich, full baritone--addressing the second mate, but could not distinguish what was said, at that distance and among the multitudinous noises of the straining ship; and a few minutes later the door opposite my own, on the other side of the cabin, opened, and Monsieur Leroy, the chief mate of the ship--to whose slackness of discipline I was chiefly indebted for being run down during the previous night--emerged and followed his chief out on deck. I recognised him in part by his figure, and in part by the fact that he was evidently an occupant of one of the state-rooms adjoining the main cabin, which would only be assigned to an officer of rank and consideration. As I now gained a momentary glimpse of him he appeared to be about thirty-seven years of age, broadly built, his features almost hidden by the thickly growing beard, whiskers, and moustache that adorned them, and out of which gleamed and flashed a pair of resolute but good-natured eyes as black as the bushy eyebrows that overshadowed them. He was dressed in a coat and pair of trousers of fine, dark-blue cloth, and, like the captain, wore no waistcoat. His shirt, thus exposed, however, unlike that of his superior, was made of coarse linen woven with a narrow blue stripe in it. Also, like his captain, he wore no stockings on his slippered feet. While I was speculating what the captain's behaviour toward me would probably be, the steward unceremoniously flung open my cabin door, and in surly tones curtly informed me that the captain desired to see me at once upon the poop. He stood aside to permit me to pass, waved a directing hand toward the passage leading out on deck, and then busied himself in putting a few finishing touches to the arrangement of the table. When, in obedience to this summons, I stepped out on deck, the washing down had been completed and the planks were already practically dry; the running gear had been carefully coiled down; the brasswork polished; mops, swabs, and scrubbing-brushes stowed away; and the crew were mustered on the forecastle, partaking of breakfast. They glanced curiously at me as I emerged on to the quarter-deck, and one of them said something that excited a burst of sardonic laughter from the rest, disregarding which I sprang lightly up the poop ladder and found myself in the presence of a group consisting of the captain and the two mates. The countenances of the latter expressed much annoyance and some perturbation, particularly that of Leroy, the chief mate; but the look of savage ferocity on the captain's face was positively fiendish, and enough to strike terror into the heart of even the boldest who might find himself in the power of such an individual. My hopes of considerate, or even of ordinarily merciful, treatment from one of so vindictively ferocious a character as this man seemed to be at once sunk to zero; yet I was not minded that any Frenchman should enjoy the satisfaction of saying that he had frightened me. I therefore assumed a boldness of demeanour that I was very far from feeling, and bowed with all the ease and grace that I could muster. Then addressing the captain I said: "Good-morning, Captain Tourville. I am afraid that the hard necessities of misfortune compel me to claim from you that succour and hospitality which the shipwrecked seaman has the right to ask--" "Stop!" shouted Tourville, as, with clenched fist, he stood seeming about to spring upon me; "I admit no such right, especially of an Englishman. The English have ever been my most implacable enemies. Because, forsooth, I choose to earn my living by following a vocation of which some of them disapprove, they must needs do their utmost to ruin me, and by heaven they have very nearly succeeded, too! Who are they that they should presume to thrust their opinions down the throats of other people? If their own countrymen choose to be led by the nose and are willing to submit to their dictation, well and good, it is nothing to me; it is their own affair, not mine. But what right have they to dictate to other nations, to say you shall do this, and shall not do that? I tell you that it is nothing short of monstrous, and I am ashamed of France that she has submitted to be thus dictated to. But if my country is so weak as to tolerate interference from a foreign Power, I am not. I claim to judge for myself what is right or wrong, and to be governed by my own conscience. I am a slaver, and I care not who knows it! And I will continue to be a slaver as long as I please, despite the disapproval of a few English fanatics. But let those beware who dare to interfere with me, and especially those Englishmen who have done their utmost to ruin me! You, monsieur, are one of them; by your own confession you belong to an English man-o'-war engaged in the suppression of that trade by which I am striving to make a living; and do you suppose that because you happen to have suffered shipwreck you are entitled to claim from me succour and hospitality, and ultimate restoration to your own people in order that you and others like you may do your utmost to ruin me? I tell you no! I do not admit the claim; you are an enemy--an implacable enemy--and you shall be treated as such. The fact of your shipwreck is merely an accident that has placed you in my power, and you shall die! I will revenge upon you some few of the countless injuries that I have suffered at the hands of your accursed countrymen!" "Shame upon you, monsieur!" I cried. "Are you coward enough to revenge yourself upon a mere lad like myself? I will not ask you what your crew will think of you, but what will you think of yourself, in your calmer moments, when you come to reflect--" "Silence, boy!" he thundered; "silence, you English dog! How dare you speak--" Then, suddenly interrupting himself, he turned to the chief mate and exclaimed: "Leroy, have that insolent young puppy confined below in irons until I can make up my mind how to dispose of him." The chief mate approached and took me by the arm. "Come with me, Monsieur John Bulldogue," said he, not unkindly, as he led me away; "and do not allow yourself to be more anxious as to your fate than you can help. I tell you candidly that I cannot form the slightest idea what that fate will eventually be; many men, knowing the skipper as well as I do, would no doubt say that you will be thrown to the sharks before you are an hour older--and it may be; yes, it certainly may be; for you are the first who has ever dared to assume a defiant attitude toward him and he is an inordinately vain man, as well as a man of unbridled temper. But, somehow, I am inclined to think that your defiance, which some people would say must seal your fate, will be more likely to tell in your favour than against you. Yes; although you have the misfortune to be an Englishman, I really think I may venture to encourage you to hope for the best. Now, here we are; and here comes Moulineux with the irons. I must obey orders and see that they are put on you; but make yourself as comfortable as you can; and I will send you down some breakfast presently. And, monsieur, you may rely upon my goodwill; I admire courage wherever I see it, whether in friend or in enemy, and you have proved that you possess it. If I find it in my power to do anything to help you, I will." The place in which I now found myself confined was a small apartment that was apparently used upon occasion as an auxiliary store-room, for there were a number of barrels and cases of various sizes in it, as well as what had the appearance of being spare sails. As the place was constructed in the depths of the ship, and considerably below the level of the water-line, there was no window to give light to it, the only light which reached it being as much as could find its way down through the partially open hatchway, some ten feet above. I was therefore able to observe my surroundings only very indistinctly even after I had been some time in the place and my eyes had become accustomed to the gloom of it. The mate was as good as his word in the matter of breakfast, a man bringing down to me a most excellent and substantial meal after I had been incarcerated for nearly an hour. I discussed the food with relish, for I was hungry, and then sat impatiently awaiting the moment when my fate should be made known to me. But hour after hour passed without word or sign from the man who held my destiny in the hollow of his hand; and it was not until late in the afternoon that the carpenter appeared and, removing my irons, requested me to follow him. He conducted me up the steep ladder leading to the main-deck and into the main cabin, where Captain Tourville was sitting alone. There was silence for a full minute after the carpenter had ushered me into the cabin and closed the door behind me. Tourville remained seated at the end of the table, with one hand clenched on the cloth before him, while with the other he plucked quickly and impatiently at his thick beard and then combed it through with his fingers, "glowering" moodily at me meanwhile, in an absent-minded fashion, as though he scarcely realised my presence. At length he pulled himself together with an effort, and, pointing to the lockers, said: "Be seated, monsieur, and have the kindness to tell me who and what you are; and how you come to be on board my ship. I have only heard my chief mate's story as yet." Whereupon I proceeded to give him the required information, as briefly as possible, not omitting to mention the fact of my being an officer of the Slave Squadron; for I had already stated this to the chief mate, and from what had transpired earlier in the day I knew that he, in turn, had communicated the information to his captain. That what I told him did not appear greatly to increase his state of irritation seemed proof enough that he had already learned all the material facts, and I congratulated myself upon having shown him that I was not to be frightened into the suppression of any portion of my history, no matter how damaging its effect might be expected to be upon my interests. When I had told him everything he remained silent for quite two or three minutes, drumming the table meditatively with his fingers. At length he looked up from the table, at which he had been moodily glowering, and said: "Monsieur Fortescue, I thank you for the evident frankness with which you have told your story; and, in return, feel that you are entitled to some explanation of what you must doubtless have deemed my very extraordinary conduct of this morning. It is unnecessary for me to enter into details, but I may inform you that I have suffered irreparable loss and injury at the hands of the English. They have chosen to regard the method by which I earn my living as unlawful, and on no less than four occasions have brought me to the verge of ruin at the moment when I was upon the point of realising a handsome competence. They have persecuted me relentlessly, confiscated my property, slain my two brothers in action, and would have hanged me ignominiously, had I not been fortunate enough to effect my escape from them; and it was an Englishman who--well, that is a story into which I need not enter with you; let it suffice to say that the injuries which I have suffered at the hands of your countrymen have been such, that the mere name of Englishman excites me to a very frenzy of anger and hate, in which I am really not responsible for my actions. Now, the question is: What is to be done with you? I tell you candidly that your life is not safe for a moment while you remain on board this ship. Even as you sit there the memory of all that I have suffered at the hands of your countrymen so strongly moves me that I find it exceedingly difficult to refrain from blowing your brains out--" "But, monsieur," I interrupted, "pardon me for suggesting such a thing, but are you not surrendering yourself to a very childish weakness? Is it possible that you, a man in the very prime of life and apparently in perfect bodily and mental health, can be so utterly devoid of self- control that because you have suffered injury, real or imagined, from--" "_Sacre_!" he interrupted, starting savagely to his feet; "there is no question, monsieur, as to the reality of the injuries that I have suffered at the hands of your hateful countrymen--" "Very well, monsieur," I cut in, speaking very quietly, "for argument's sake I will admit, if you like, that your injuries are both real and deep. Still, does it not seem to you absurdly illogical that because certain persons have injured you, you must yield to this insane craving to wreak your revenge upon somebody else who has had no hand in the infliction of those injuries?" "Quite possibly; I cannot tell," answered Tourville. "It may be that I _am_ mad on this one particular point. But I do not admit the soundness of your argument, monsieur. You contend that you personally have not injured me. That may be perfectly true. But you admit that you belong to the Slave Squadron; and it is at the hands of that same squadron that I have suffered much of the injury of which I complain. Now it is impossible for me to discriminate between the individuals in that squadron who have injured me, and those who have not; and I therefore contend that I am perfectly justified in wreaking my vengeance upon any of them who chance to fall into my power. And, in any case, if I should blow out your brains I shall at least have rid myself of one potential enemy. Therefore--" And to my immeasurable surprise the man calmly drew a pistol from his belt and levelled it across the table straight at my head. I sprang to my feet with the idea of flinging myself upon and disarming him, for I could no longer doubt the fellow was stark, staring mad upon this one particular point; but before I could get at him the weapon exploded, and the ball, passing so close to my head that I felt it stir my hair, buried itself in the panelling of the cabin behind me. With a savage snarl he raised his hand, and would have dashed the heavy pistol-butt in my face; but by that time I was upon him, and, seizing his throat with one hand, while I wrenched the weapon from his grasp with the other, I bore him to the deck, and planted my right knee square in the middle of his chest, pinning him securely down. "You treacherous, murderous scoundrel!" I cried. "How shall I deal with you? You are as dangerous as a wild beast! If I were to beat your brains out with the butt of this pistol I should only be treating you as you deserve! And I will do it too as sure as you are lying there at my mercy, unless you will swear by all you hold sacred that you will never again attempt my life, and that you will set me ashore, free, at the first port at which we touch. Will you swear that, or will you die?" "I swear it, monsieur," he gasped. "Release my throat and let me rise, and I swear to you by the Blessed Virgin that I will declare a truce in your favour, and that you shall leave this ship as soon as a suitable opportunity offers." I relaxed my grasp upon his throat, and permitted him to regain his feet, whereupon he looked at me for some moments with an expression of surprise, not altogether unmingled, methought, with fear. Then, bowing profoundly, he said: "Leave me, monsieur, I beg of you. I will send for you again, a little later." I passed out of the cabin, and made my way up on to the poop, where I found Monsieur Leroy, the chief mate, in charge of the watch. He nodded to me as I ascended the poop ladder, and when I joined him in his fore- and-aft promenade of the weather side of the deck, jerked his head knowingly toward the skylight and remarked: "In his tantrums _again_? Ah! quite as I expected. It is rather unfortunate for you, monsieur, that you happen to be an Englishman, for the mere mention of the word to him has the same effect as exhibiting a red rag to a bull: it drives him perfectly frantic with rage." "So it appears," remarked I dryly. "What is the cause of it? Have you any idea?" "No," answered the mate. "I doubt whether anybody knows; perhaps he does not even know himself. Of course I have heard him speak of the losses which he has sustained through the interference of the ships of the Slave Squadron; but we who elect to make our living by following a vocation which civilised nations have agreed to declare unlawful must be prepared to be interfered with. For my own part I have no particular fault to find with those who have undertaken to suppress the slave- trade. We go into the business with our eyes open; we know the penalties attaching to it; and if we are foolish or unskilful enough to permit ourselves to be caught we must not grumble if those penalties are exacted from us. I like the life; I enjoy it; it is full of excitement and adventure; and when we succeed in outwitting you gentlemen the profits are handsome enough to amply repay us for all our risk and trouble. It is like playing a game of skill for a heavy wager; and I contend that no man who is not sportsman enough to bear his losses philosophically should engage in the game. But that is not precisely what ails the skipper; he takes his ill-luck grievously to heart it is true, but he insists that he has other grievances against the English as well; and, whatever they may be, they seem to have partially turned his brain." "Partially!" I objected. "Why, the man is as mad as a March hare. He absolutely loses all control of himself when he allows his temper to master him, and becomes more like a savage beast than a man!" "Ay, that is true, he does," agreed Leroy. "But, hark ye, monsieur, let me give you a friendly hint--you have escaped unharmed thus far, therefore I believe you may consider yourself reasonably safe; but in case of any further outbreaks on the captain's part, take especial care that you give him no reason to suppose that you are afraid of him; that is the surest road to safety with him." "Upon my word I believe you are right," said I. "At all events that is the road which I took with him just now, for I pinned him down to the cabin deck, and threatened to beat his brains out. Yet here I am, alive, to speak of it." "Good!" ejaculated the mate. "If you did that you are all right; I believe that if there is one thing he admires more than another it is absolute fearlessness. Show him that you do not care the snap of a finger for him and he will forgive you anything, even the fact that you are an Englishman." I walked the poop with Monsieur Leroy for a full hour, chatting with him and learning many things very well worth knowing; and while I was chatting with him I kept my eyes about me, carefully noting all the particulars and peculiarities of the barque, with a view to future contingencies. Among other things I learned that she was named _La Mouette_; that she was of three hundred and sixty-four tons register; that she mounted fourteen twenty-eight pound carronades on her main-deck and four six-pounders on her poop; that she carried a complement of one hundred and seventy men; and that she was then bound into the river Kwara for a cargo of slaves to be conveyed to Martinique, or Cuba, as circumstances might decide. At the end of about an hour I was once more summoned to the cabin, where I found Tourville sitting at the table. The man had now completely regained his self-control; he was perfectly calm, and waved me courteously to a seat on the cabin sofa, which I took. "Monsieur Fortescue," said he, "I shall not mock you or myself by pretending to excuse or apologise for my recent outbreak of violence, for it is due to a weakness which I am wholly unable to conquer, and which may, quite possibly, get the better of me again. If it should, I must ask you to kindly be patient and forbearing with me, and to keep out of my way until the fit has passed. What I particularly wish to say to you now is that you are from this moment perfectly safe so long as it may be necessary for you to honour my ship with your presence. But, since you will naturally desire to rejoin your own ship as speedily as possible, I propose to tranship you into the first vessel bearing the British flag which we may chance to fall in with--provided, of course, that she is not a ship of war. Should we happen to fall in with a British man-o'-war, my course of action will be guided by circumstances; I shall not feel myself justified in trusting to her captain's magnanimity to let us go free after delivering you safe on board her; but should the weather be fine enough to allow of such a proceeding without risk to you, I will give you a boat in which you may make your own way on board her. Meanwhile, I beg that you will regard yourself as my guest, free to come and go in this cabin as you please, and to take your meals at my table; and I have also made arrangements for your greater comfort in the state-room which Leroy assigned to you when you came aboard last night. I trust that these plans of mine will be agreeable to you." I replied that they were not only perfectly agreeable to me, but that I regarded them as exceedingly generous--taking all the circumstances of the case into consideration; that I regretted his violent antipathy to Englishmen, as I feared that, in consequence of it, my presence could never be otherwise than exceedingly disagreeable to him, but that during my enforced sojourn aboard _La Mouette_ I would strive to render my nationality as little obtrusive as possible, and that I trusted we might very soon be fortunate enough to fall in with a craft of some sort into which he could transfer me. To which he replied that he fervently hoped so too, for both our sakes; then directing my attention to a case of books attached to the after bulkhead, on the opposite side to that occupied by the piano, he rose, bowed, and retired to his own cabin. As for me, I went out on deck and resumed my conversation with Leroy, telling him what had passed, and begging him to keep a sharp look-out for vessels; for that since Captain Tourville made no attempt to disguise his uneasiness at my presence on board his ship I was quite determined to tranship into the first craft that we might happen to fall in with, provided, of course, that she did not happen to be of questionable character--for I had no inclination to jump out of the frying-pan into the fire by going aboard another slaver. The mate fully agreed with me as to the wisdom of leaving the ship as soon as possible; indeed I soon discovered that, even after what had passed between Tourville and myself, he was still very far from satisfied that there might not be further trouble ahead. "If such should unfortunately come," said he, "you must maintain a bold front, and show him that you are not to be so easily frightened. When his fits are upon him he very strongly reminds me of a wild beast which hesitates to attack so long as one faces it boldly, but springs the instant that one's back is turned." I considered this very excellent advice, singularly applicable to the circumstances, and determined to act upon it. At eight bells I was summoned below to supper, and found the cabin brilliantly lit, and the table a picture of dainty elegance in the matter of equipage and of choice fare. Captain Tourville was evidently no ascetic in the matter of eating and drinking, and the meal to which we immediately sat down was quite as good as many that I have partaken of ashore in so-called first-class hotels. Tourville seemed at first to be in imminent danger of relapsing into one of his black moods, for he was distrait and inclined to be silent; but I was determined not to permit this if I could help it. I therefore persisted in talking to him, trying him with subject after subject, until I discovered him to be an enthusiast upon the arts of painting and music--in both of which I also dabbled, in an amateurish way. As soon as I spoke of these his brow cleared, he threw off his gloom, and spoke fluently and with evident knowledge of his subject, with the result that the meal which had begun so inauspiciously ended quite pleasantly. Nay, more than that, as soon as the cloth was drawn this extraordinary man opened the piano and, sitting down to it, played piece after piece, sang several songs, and finally invited me to sing, the result being that, on the whole, the evening passed with far less constraint than I had anticipated. The next morning, while Tourville was engaged in taking his sights for the longitude and working them out, he suddenly complained of feeling ill, sent for Leroy, gave him certain instructions, and then took to his bed. By noon it became evident that he was in for a smart attack of malarial fever, to which it appeared he was very subject; and when I turned in that night the mate volunteered the information that he feared the skipper was going to be very ill. Tourville's condition on the following morning amply justified Leroy's foreboding; he grew steadily worse, became delirious, and at length grew so violent that about mid-day the mate considered it necessary to remain with him constantly, lest in his madness he should rise from his bed and fling himself through the stern windows into the sea. One result of this was that I offered to take Leroy's watch, from eight o'clock to midnight, an offer which was gratefully accepted; but as we were running down before a fair wind there was nothing for me to do beyond maintaining a good look-out, and I thus found it unnecessary to give the crew any orders or to interfere with them in any way. For the next three days Tourville's condition was such that the constant presence of some one in his cabin, night and day, to watch over him and guard against the possibility of his doing himself an injury, became an absolute necessity, and Leroy, the chief mate, and Thoreau, the boatswain, shared this duty between them. I volunteered to assume nursing duty in the place of Leroy, but my offer was declined, the chief mate rather drily remarking that the presence of an Englishman by the captain's bedside was scarcely likely to accelerate the patient's recovery, while some of his ravings were of such a character that it was better for all concerned that I should not hear them. But, he added, if I would be complaisant enough to keep his watch for him, he would esteem it a very great favour. Of course I could do no less than accede to this suggestion with a good grace. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. H.B.M.S. GADFLY. I had been on duty as Leroy's deputy for two whole days when it fell to my turn to keep the middle watch, that is to say, the watch which extends from midnight to four o'clock in the morning. When, upon being called by Marcel, the second mate, I went on deck to relieve him, he informed me that the wind had been steadily dropping all through the first watch, and expressed a fear that we were about to lose it altogether. This did not in the least surprise me, for we were now at about our lowest parallel, and on the border at least of, if not actually within, the belt of practically perpetual calms that exists about the Line, which are the sources of so much delay, vexation, and hard work to the mariner. That the wind had dropped very considerably since I had turned in was evident to me even before I reached the deck, for, upon turning out of my bunk to dress after being called, I had immediately noticed that the ship was almost upon an even keel, while the inert "sloppy" sound of the water alongside that reached my ears through the open port of my cabin told me that we were sailing but slowly. The night was intensely dark, for the moon was but one day old, and had only barely revealed herself as a thin line of faint pearl in the evening sky for about half an hour before she followed the sun beneath the horizon, there was not a star to be seen in the whole of the visible firmament, and there was a feeling of hot, muggy dampness in the air that made me shrewdly suspect the presence overhead of a pall of rain- charged vapour, which would account for the opacity of the darkness which hemmed us in and pressed down upon us from above. As Marcel curtly bade me good-night and went below upon being relieved, after giving me the course to be steered, and expressing his forebodings concerning the weather, I walked aft, glanced into the binnacle, and inquired of the helmsman whether the ship still held steerage-way, to which he replied that she did, and that was about all, the man whom he had relieved at eight bells having informed him that the log, when last hove, had recorded a speed of barely two and a half knots. He also volunteered the opinion that we were booked for a heavy downpour of rain before long, significantly glancing at the same time at the oilskins and sou'wester which he had brought aft with him. As the time dragged slowly along the heat seemed steadily to grow more oppressive, and the difficulty of obtaining a full breath greater; the perspiration was streaming from every pore of my body, and I felt almost too languid to drag one foot after the other as I moved about the deck. That the sick man also was affected unfavourably was evident, for his shouts came up through the after skylight with positively startling distinctness as his delirium grew more acute. At length, just after two bells had struck--and how dreadfully clamourous the strokes sounded in that heavy, stagnant air--the helmsman reported that the ship was no longer under command; and presently she swung broadside-on to the swell, rolling heavily, with loud splashing and gurgling sounds in the scuppers, with a swirling and washing of water under the counter, frequent vicious kicks of the now useless rudder, accompanied by violent clankings of the wheel chains, loud creakings and groanings of the timbers, heavy flappings and rustlings of the invisible canvas aloft, with fierce jerks of the chain sheets, and, in short, a full chorus of those multitudinous sounds that emanate from a rolling ship in a stark calm. The helmsman, no longer needed, lashed the wheel and, gathering up his oilskins, slouched away forward, muttering that he was going to get a light for his pipe; and I let him go, although I knew perfectly well that he had no intention of returning uncalled; for, after all, where was the use of keeping the man standing there doing nothing? I therefore contented myself by calling upon the hands forward, from time to time, to keep a bright look-out, and flung myself into a basket-chair belonging to the skipper. Sitting thus, I gradually fell into a somewhat sombre reverie, in the course of which I reviewed the events that had befallen me during the short period that had elapsed since the _Dolphin_ and the _Eros_ had parted company. I went over again, in memory, all the circumstances connected with the loss of the brigantine, the hours I had spent alone in the longboat, her destruction and my somewhat dramatic appearance among the crew of _La Mouette_, my reception by her mad captain, and then fell to conjecturing what the future might have in store for me, when I was suddenly aroused to a consciousness of my immediate surroundings by a sort of impression it was no more than that--that I had heard the sound of a ship's bell struck four times--_ting-ting_, _ting-ting_--far away yonder in the heart of the thick darkness. So faint, such a mere ghost of a sound, did it seem to be that I felt almost convinced it was purely imaginary, an effect resulting from the train of thought in which I had been indulging; yet I rose to my feet and, walking over to the skylight, peered through it at the cabin clock to ascertain what the time might actually be. _It was on the stroke of two o'clock_! Therefore if, as I had assured myself, the sounds were imaginary, it was at least a singular coincidence that they should have reached me just at that precise moment. I walked to the fore end of the poop, upon the rail guarding which the ship's bell was mounted, and sharply struck four bells, after which I again called to the crew forward to maintain a sharp look-out. "Now," thought I, "if those sounds originated outside my own imagination some of those fellows for'ard will certainly have heard them, and will mention it." But my call elicited nothing more than the stereotyped "Ay, ay, sir!" and a faint momentary shuffling of feet--meant, no doubt, to convey to me the impression that the look-outs were on the alert and then deep silence, as before, so far as any report of suspicious sounds was concerned. I stood for quite two minutes listening intently for any further sounds out of the darkness, but none came to me, nor could I detect any light or other evidence of another craft in our neighbourhood. At length, fully confirmed in my conviction that my imagination had been playing a trick with me, I returned to the chair in which I had been sitting, and there finished out the watch, merely leaving my seat to strike six, and finally eight, bells. But I placed my chair in such a position that while still sitting in it I could keep my eye on the clock, and as the hands crept round its face, marking first three and then four o'clock, I strained my listening powers to their utmost in the hope that those elusive bell-strokes might again come stealing across the sea to me, but without result. When four o'clock came round, after striking eight bells with perhaps a little more vigour than usual, I called Marcel, resigned the deck to him, and went below. Yet, although I had felt drowsy enough on deck, and although Tourville's ravings had ceased and he seemed to have fallen asleep, when I flung off my clothes and stretched myself on top of the bedding in my bunk, expecting to instantly drop off to sleep, I found, to my annoyance, that I had never been less inclined to slumber than I was just then. The fact was that in spite of myself those ghostly tinklings were still worrying me. Were they, or were they not, imaginary? If they were-- well, there was an end of it. But if they were not imaginary; if, as I now perversely began to think, they were actual sounds, then it followed, of necessity, that there must be a craft of some sort not very far from us. If this were the case, what, I asked myself, was she likely to be? She could but be one of three things--either a trader, a slaver, or a craft belonging to the Slave Squadron; the chances, therefore, were about even that on the morrow I might be able to effect my escape from _La Mouette_--always provided, of course, that those strokes of the bell had been real. For if the craft on board which they had been struck happened to be a trader, the odds were in favour of her being British; and the same might be said presuming her to be a man-o'-war. On the other hand, she might of course be a slaver; in which case I was fully resolved to endure the ills I had, rather than fly to others which might conceivably be worse. Thinking thus, and worrying myself as to the best course to be pursued in certain eventualities, I lay there restlessly tossing first to one side, then to the other, until at length, sitting up in my bunk and putting my face to the open port in quest of a breath of fresh air, the fancy took me that the darkness was no longer quite so opaque as it had been, nay, I was sure of it, for by putting my face right up against the circular opening I was enabled to catch an occasional transient gleam of faint, shifting light that I knew was the glancing of the coming dawn upon the back of the oily swell that came creeping up to the ship; while, by directing my glances higher, I found that I was able to make out indistinctly something of the outline of the great black cloud- masses that overhung us. In those latitudes the dawn comes as quickly as the daylight vanishes, day comes and goes with a rush--thus within five minutes of the time when I first glanced out through the port there was enough light abroad to reveal a louring, overcast, thunder-threatening sky, an inky, oil- smooth, sluggishly undulating sea, and a long, low schooner with tremendously taunt masts raking over her stern, and not an inch of canvas set, lying broadside-on to us at a distance of some two miles to the eastward. When I caught my first glimpse of her she was very little more than a black blur standing out against the background of scarcely less black sky; but even as I sat looking at her the light grew, her outline sharpened and became clear and distinct, and my heart gave a great bound of delight as the conviction forced itself upon me that I knew her. Yes, that long low hull, with its abnormal length of counter, and its bold sheer forward, the high, dominating bow with its excessive rake of stem, and the peculiar steeve of the bowsprit were all familiar to me. I had seen and noted them before while in Sierra Leone harbour, and I was convinced that the craft was none other than the British man- o'-war schooner _Gadfly_, armed with eight 12-pound carronades and a long 32-pound pivot-gun on her forecastle, with a crew of eighty men under the command of Lieutenant Peters, than whom there was not a more dashing and enterprising officer on the Coast. I had just arrived at the above conclusion when I heard one of the barque's crew hailing the poop; I could not distinguish what was said, but I presumed that it had reference to the schooner, for immediately upon the hail I heard the creaking of the basket-chair on the poop, as though Marcel was just hoisting himself out of it, and presently his reply came floating down through the skylight, "Ay, ay; I see her." Then I heard the soft shuffling of his footsteps overhead and guessed that he was getting hold of the telescope wherewith to examine the schooner. Ten minutes later, perhaps, I heard the second mate leave the poop and enter the cabin, and I concluded that he had come down to report the schooner to Leroy; but, to my surprise, instead of doing that, he came straight to my cabin door and knocked softly. I at once guessed that he wished to question me about the stranger, but it was no part of my policy to let him know that I had already seen and made up my mind about her, I therefore feigned to be sound asleep, and did not reply. Then he knocked a second time more sharply, whereupon I started up and responded in a drowsy tone of voice, "Hillo! who is it? What's the matter?" "Monsieur Fortescue," Marcel responded, murmuring through the slats in the upper panel of the door, "I want you on deck, quick!" "Oh, indeed," I replied, still affecting drowsiness; "what for? Is there anything wrong?" "Please come up at once, monsieur," he returned, with a note of impatience in his voice. "When you come on deck you will understand why I want you." "Very well," I grumbled, "I will be up in a brace of shakes;" whereupon my disturber departed. But his conversation with me, brief as it had been, and quietly as it had been conducted, had evidently aroused Leroy, for as I emerged from my cabin he stepped out of his and we proceeded to the poop together, the chief mate expressing his surprise that Marcel should have called me instead of him. Of course I had a very shrewd idea as to the reason, but it was my cue to feign ignorance, and I did so. By the time that Leroy and I reached the poop the sun must have risen-- although there was no sign of him to be seen through the dense canopy of cloud that completely obscured the heavens--for the light had strengthened so much and the atmosphere was so clear that every detail of the distant schooner was plainly distinguishable even to the unassisted eye. Marcel was again examining her through the glass; it was therefore only natural that Leroy's and my own glances should turn toward her as soon as our heads rose above the level of the rail. Neither of us said anything, however, until Marcel took the glass from his eye, when, seeing Leroy, he said: "What d'ye think of her, monsieur? I have taken it upon myself to turn out Monsieur Fortescue to see whether he can tell us anything about her?" "_I_?" I ejaculated. "What the dickens should I know about her? That she is a slaver anybody can tell with half an eye,"--as a matter of fact the _Gadfly_ had been a slaver in her time, but having been captured, had been purchased into the Service--"but her skipper is a sensible fellow, evidently; he doesn't believe in threshing his canvas threadbare in a calm, so he has furled it." "Permit me," said Leroy, taking the telescope from Marcel and placing it to his eye. He looked long and anxiously at the distant schooner, and at length, with an "Ah!" that spoke volumes, passed the glass over to me. I understood at once from that expressive "Ah!" that Leroy knew and had recognised the vessel, and that my pretence of ignorance would no longer serve any good purpose. I therefore determined to abandon it and to make a virtue of necessity by frankly admitting my knowledge. For if Leroy recognised the schooner, as I was certain he had, he would be fully aware of the fact that I, as an officer of the Slave Squadron, must necessarily know her too. After regarding her attentively through the lenses, therefore, for more than a minute, I passed the glass back to the chief mate with the quiet remark: "Yes, I believe I recognise her now that I come to see her distinctly. If I am not mistaken she is the British man-o'-war schooner _Gadfly_, and her presence yonder affords Captain Tourville an opportunity to fulfil his promise of transhipping me. He promised me that, should such a case as this occur, he would give me a boat in which to transfer myself; and that small dinghy of yours will be just the thing." "Y-es," returned Leroy meditatively. "He promised you that, did he? I remember your telling me so. But, unfortunately for you, he never said a word upon the matter to me, and he is far too sick just now to be worried about that or anything else. I am very much afraid, therefore, Monsieur Fortescue, that you will be obliged to let this opportunity pass; for, you see, I could not possibly take it upon myself to release you and give you even the dinghy without first receiving definite instructions from the captain." "Oh, come, I say, Leroy, you surely don't mean to insinuate that you doubt my word, do you?" I remonstrated. "I hope you don't pretend--" "I do not pretend or insinuate anything," Leroy retorted, somewhat impatiently; "I merely state the fact that I have received from Captain Tourville no such instructions as those you mention, and without such instructions I dare not comply with your wishes." "Ha, ha!" jeered Marcel. "You will have to curb your impatience, Monsieur Englishman. It is evident that we are not yet to lose the pleasure of your society." To this I replied nothing, but turned remonstratingly to the chief mate, urging him to at least do me the favour to go down and see if the captain chanced to be awake, and if so, to put the matter to him. But he would not listen to my suggestion, insisting that, even if Captain Tourville happened to be awake, he was far too ill to be troubled over any such matter. Suddenly it came to me that, despite all his past apparent friendliness, he was, for some unknown reason, anxious that I should not be released. Seeing, therefore, the utter uselessness of further argument, I desisted, and turned away, bitterly disappointed. Not, of course, that with Leroy's refusal all hope of deliverance was to be abandoned. By no means. So long as the _Gadfly_ remained in sight there was always a chance; for if I knew anything of Lieutenant Peters, he was not the man to let us go without giving us an overhaul, and then my chance would certainly come. It was the duty of the ships of the Slave Squadron to stop and examine the papers of _every_ ship encountered in those waters, and I was certain that Peters would not be likely to make an exception in our favour; while, if Leroy resisted, as, of course, he would--well, it would simply mean that _La Mouette_ would be captured. Meanwhile Leroy and Marcel were eagerly consulting together, and presently the second mate left the poop, went forward, and quietly called all hands. Then, as soon as the crew were all on deck, they were ordered to clear for action, the guns were cast loose, the magazine opened, and powder and shot were passed up on deck; the arms' chests were brought up, cutlasses and pistols were served out--a brace of the latter to each man; pistols and muskets were loaded, pikes cast adrift and distributed, and, in short, every preparation was made for a fight, except that the guns were not then loaded. The second mate had been the moving spirit in all these preparations, Leroy, meanwhile, remaining on the poop and intently watching the schooner through the telescope. By the time that the preparations for battle were complete it was close upon seven bells, and the order was given for the crew to get breakfast, and for that meal to be also served in the cabin. A few minutes later the steward came along with a pot of cocoa in one hand and a covered dish in the other, and Leroy, coming aft to where I stood moodily pondering, thrust his hand under my arm and said, with all apparent good-nature: "Now, don't sulk, _mon cher_, but come down and have some breakfast. Unless I am greatly mistaken the _Gadfly_ is about to send us her boats, and then you may perhaps be able to return in them. But do not build too much upon the chance, for as soon as they come within range I shall open fire upon them with round and grape; and if we cannot sink them before they get alongside, why, we shall deserve to be hanged, that's all." "Thank you, monsieur," I answered, "but I have no appetite for breakfast just now, and, with your permission, will remain on deck rather than go into that suffocating cabin, merely to watch you and Marcel eat." "_Eh, bien_! as you please," he returned, with a shrug of the shoulders. "I will not ask you to keep a look-out for me, because I can do that quite well from the windows of the captain's cabin; and," looking round, "I do not think you can do any mischief up here. You are sure you will not come down? Very well, then, _an revoir_!" Now, to be left on deck, practically alone, was a bit of luck that I had not dared to hope for; and the fact that I had been, coupled with what Leroy had said about the boats, gave me an idea upon which I immediately acted. We were still lying broadside-on to the _Gadfly_, and I had not the least doubt that on board her a constant watch was being kept upon the barque; glancing round hurriedly, therefore, and observing that all hands on the forecastle were busy with their breakfast, I slipped over the side into the mizzen chains, where I could stand without being seen from inboard, and, removing my jacket, so that my white shirt-sleeves might show up clearly against the barque's black side, I forthwith began to semaphore with my arms, waving them up and down for about a minute to attract attention. Then, without knowing whether or not I had been successful, I proceeded to signal the following message: "_La Mouette_, slaver, armed with fourteen 28-pound carronades and four 6-pounders. Carries one hundred and seventy men. Attack with your long thirty-two; boats too risky!" Then, donning my jacket again, I returned inboard just in time to see Marcel's head appear above the level of the poop. "Hillo!" he exclaimed; "I was wondering what had become of you. What have you been doing over the side? Considering whether you should attempt to swim across to the _Gadfly_?" "Yes," answered I boldly, seizing at once upon the suggestion thus given. "But I have thought better of it," I continued. "There are too many sharks about. Look there!" and I pointed to a dorsal fin that was sculling lazily along half-a-dozen fathoms away. The man looked at me suspiciously for several seconds, then walked to the side and looked over into the chains, but of course there was nothing to be seen. Then, muttering to himself, he returned to the cabin, presumably to finish his breakfast. He had scarcely disappeared, and I was looking round for the telescope, when a flash of flame and a cloud of white smoke suddenly burst from the schooner's forecastle, and presently a 32-pound shot dashed into the water within half-a-dozen fathoms of our rudder. "Good shot, but not quite enough elevation!" muttered I, delighted at this indication that my message had been noted and was being acted upon; and then came the sullen _boom_ of the gun across the water. I went to the skylight and quite unnecessarily reported, "The schooner has opened fire!" "_Sacre-e-e_!" I heard Leroy exclaim between his teeth. "The one thing that I was afraid of! He has thought better of sending his boats, then!" Marcel answered something, but what it was I could not catch, and then the pair of them came racing up on deck. They had scarcely arrived when another shot came from the schooner, crashing through the bulwarks just forward of the fore rigging, dismounting a gun, and playing havoc with the men who crowded that part of the deck. Five were killed outright and nine wounded by that one shot and the splinters that it created. Leroy at once called the crew to quarters and ordered them to return the schooner's fire; but the latter was too far off for either the carronades or the 6-pounders to reach her; and my spirits began to rise, for if the schooner could only continue as she had begun she would soon compel _La Mouette_ to strike. And there was every prospect of this happening, for the _Gadfly_ had now got our range to a nicety, and shot after shot hulled us, playing the very mischief with us, dismounting another gun, strewing our decks with killed and wounded, and cutting up our rigging, but, most unfortunately, never touching our spars. Leroy stamped fore and aft the deck, cursing like a madman, shaking his fist at the schooner, glowering savagely at me, and whistling for a wind. "Give me a breeze!" he shouted; "give me a breeze, and I will run down and blow that schooner out of the water!" Presently his prayer was answered, but not quite as he desired; for, while we watched, the clouds broke away to the eastward, and presently we saw a dark line stealing along the water toward the schooner. Ten minutes later all hands aboard her were busily engaged in making sail, and by the time that the wind reached her she was all ready for it. Then, as it filled her sails, she put up her helm and squared away for us, running down before the wind and yawing from time to time to give us another shot. But it was a fatal mistake; she should have continued to play the game of long bowls, in which case she could have done as she pleased with us; by keeping away, however, and running down to us, she gave Leroy just the chance he wanted; he waited until she was well within range of his carronades, and then, double-shotting them and watching his opportunity, he gave her the whole of his starboard broadside, and down came her foremast and main-topmast. At the same moment another shot came from the schooner, badly wounding our main- topmast above the cap, and the breeze reaching us almost immediately afterward, the spar went over the side, dragging down the mizzen topmast and the fore-topgallant-mast with it. The result of all this was that while the schooner broached to and rode by the wreck of her foremast as to a sea anchor, _La Mouette_ fell broad off and refused to come to the wind again; consequently the distance between the two vessels rapidly widened until both were out of range, and the firing ceased. Thus ended the fight; and I presume that the two craft soon passed out of sight of each other and did not again meet, during that voyage at least, for there was no more firing from _La Mouette_ while I remained aboard her. But what transpired during the rest of the voyage I was destined to know very little about, for scarcely had the firing ceased when Captain Tourville, thin, weak, and emaciated, crept up on the poop. He had a pistol in his hand, and no sooner did his gaze fall on me than he levelled the weapon at me and fired it point-blank. Fortunately for me, the man's hand was so unsteady that the ball flew wide; but the report brought the mates and half-a-dozen men to us with a rush to see what was the matter. "Take that young scoundrel," exclaimed Tourville, pointing at me with a finger that trembled with rage as much as with weakness, "put his hands and his feet in irons, heave him down on the ballast, and leave him there until I give you further instructions." CHAPTER FIFTEEN. IN THE HANDS OF SAVAGES. The order was promptly obeyed; and in a few minutes I found myself, heavily ironed, in the pitchy darkness of the lower hold, squatted disconsolately upon the bed of shingle which constituted the ballast of the vessel. And what a situation for a young fellow of less than twenty years of age to be in! The ship of which I had been placed in command lost-- foundered in mid-ocean, and, only too probably, all hands lost with her. Our fate would never be known; it would be concluded that one of the mysterious disasters that so frequently befall the seaman had overtaken us; we should be given up as lost; and there would be an end of us all, so far as our fellow-men were concerned. For whatever hopes I might once have entertained of escaping from this accursed ship, I had none now. That Tourville would not be satisfied with anything short of taking my life, I was convinced; and very soon I began to feel that I did not care how soon he sated his vengeance; for confined below in the heat and darkness of the stifling hold, with no resting-place but the hard shingle for my aching body, breathing an atmosphere poisonous with the odour of bilge-water, with only three flinty ship-biscuits, alive with weevils, and a half-pint of putrid water per day upon which to sustain life, and beset by ferocious rats who disputed with me the possession of my scanty fare, I soon became so miserably ill that death quickly lost all its terrors, and I felt that I could welcome it as a release from my sufferings. How long I remained in this state of wretchedness I cannot tell, for I soon lost count of time and indeed at last sank into a state of semi- delirium; but I think from subsequent calculations it must have been about ten or twelve days after the date of my incarceration that I was aroused once more to a complete consciousness of my surroundings by observing that a change had occurred in the motion of the ship. She no longer pitched and rolled as does a vessel in the open sea, but slid along--as I could tell by the gurgling sound of the water along her bends--upon a perfectly even keel except for the slight list or inclination due to the pressure of the wind upon her sails. I conjectured that she must have arrived at the end of her voyage and entered the Kwara river, a conjecture that was shortly afterward confirmed by the sounds on deck of shouted orders and the bustle and confusion attendant upon the operation of shortening sail, soon followed by the splash of an anchor from the bows and the rumble of the stout hempen cable through the hawse-pipe. Then ensued a period of quiet of several hours' duration, broken at length by the appearance of the carpenter and another seaman who, having removed my irons, gruffly ordered me to follow them up on deck. I felt altogether too wretchedly ill, and too utterly indifferent respecting my fate, to ask these men any questions, but contrived, by almost superhuman exertion, to climb up the perpendicular ladder which led to the deck; and when I presently emerged from the foetid atmosphere of the hold into the free air and dazzling sunshine of what proved to be early morning, I was so overcome by the sudden transition that I swooned away. I must have remained in a state of complete unconsciousness for several hours, for when at length I again opened my eyes and looked about me the sun was nearly overhead, and I was lying unbound in the bottom of a long craft that my slowly returning senses at length enabled me to recognise as a native dug-out canoe. She was about forty feet long by four feet beam and about two feet deep; and was manned by thirty as ferocious- looking savages as one need ever wish to see. They were stark naked, save for a kind of breech-clout round the loins, and squatted in pairs along the bottom of the canoe, plying short broad-bladed paddles with which they seemed to be urging their craft at a pretty good pace through the water. A big, brawny, and most repulsive-looking savage, who was probably the captain of the craft, sat perched up in the stern, steering with a somewhat longer and broader-bladed paddle, and urging his crew to maintain their exertions by continually giving utterance to the most hair-raising shrieks and yells. It was the fresh air, I suppose, that revived me, even as, after my long sojourn in the noisome hold of the slaver, it had prostrated me by my sudden emergence into it, and I presently became conscious that I was feeling distinctly better than I had done for some time past. For a minute or two I lay passively where I was, in the bottom of the canoe, blinking up at the pallid zenith, near which the sun blazed with blinding brilliancy; and then, no one saying me nay, I slowly and painfully raised myself into a sitting posture and looked about me. We were in a typical African river, about three-quarters of a mile wide, with low bush-clad banks bordered by the inevitable mangrove, while beyond towered the virgin tropical forest, dense, impenetrable, and full of mystery. The turbid current was against us, as could be seen at a glance; I therefore knew at once that we were paddling up-stream. But whither were we bound; of what tribe or nation were the negroes who manned the canoe; and how had I come to be among them? Had Tourville, with a greater refinement of cruelty than even I gave him credit for, handed me over to the tender mercies of these savages, to work their bloodthirsty will upon me, instead of himself murdering me out of hand? If so, what was to be my ultimate fate? I shuddered as I put this question to myself, for I had been on the Coast quite long enough to have heard many a gruesome, blood-curdling story of the horrors perpetrated by the African savages upon those unhappy white men who had been unfortunate enough to fall into their hands. But I was not going to allow myself to be frightened or discouraged by dwelling upon stories of that kind; I was feeling so far better that the desire to live had returned to me. I even experienced some slight sensation of hunger, and there was no doubt at all as to the fact that I was parched with thirst. I therefore turned to the savage who was flourishing the steering paddle and, first pointing to my open mouth, went through the motions of raising a vessel to it and drinking. The man evidently understood me, for he shouted a few--to me quite unintelligible--words, whereupon one of the paddlers about the centre of the canoe laid in his paddle for a few moments, did something dexterous with a spear and a brownish-grey object the size of a man's head, and a minute later my lips were glued to a luscious cocoa-nut, the extremity of which had been deftly struck off with the blade of the spear, disclosing the white-lined hollow of the cup within brimming with a full pint or more of the delicious "milk," which I swallowed to the last drop. Then, breaking off a strip of the husk and using it as a spoon, I proceeded to scrape out and hungrily devour the soft creamy fruit that lined the shell, and thus made the most satisfying and enjoyable meal that had passed my lips for many a day. Shortly afterward, the strength of the ebb current increasing so greatly that we were able to make scarcely any headway against it, our steersman headed the canoe in toward the western bank of the river, and we presently entered a narrow creek up which we passed for a distance of about a quarter of a mile until we reached a practicable landing-place, when the canoe was secured to a stout mangrove root, and all hands stepped out of her, the steersman taking the precaution to draw my attention to the spears and bows and arrows with which his party were armed, as a hint, I suppose, of what I might expect should I be foolish enough to attempt to escape. We pushed our way through the thick bush for a distance of about a hundred yards, and then reached a small open space, where we bivouacked; a party of ten disappearing into the bush, while the rest remained to kindle a fire and, evidently, to look after me and make sure that I did not give them the slip. At length, after the lapse of about half an hour, the party who had vanished into the bush returned, singly or by two's and three's, some bringing in a monkey or two, others a few brace of parrots, one man a big lizard like an iguana, another a fine deer, until each of the ten had contributed something to the common larder, when the fire was made up, a plentiful supply of food cooked, and all hands set to with a will, each apparently animated by a determination to show all the others how much solid food he was capable of putting out of sight at a sitting. They very civilly offered me a choice of their dainties, and I accepted a tolerably substantial venison steak, broiled over the fire by being suspended close over the glowing embers upon the end of a stick. Off this I contrived to make a fairly hearty meal, after which, following the example of the others, I stretched myself out in the long grass under the shadow of a big bush, and quickly fell into a deep sleep. I was aroused from my slumbers, some hours later, by my savage companions, who intimated to me, by signs, that the moment had arrived for us to take our departure, and we accordingly wended our way back to the canoe, taking our surplus stock of food with us, and, embarking, soon found ourselves once more afloat on the placid bosom of the broad river, the downward and opposing current of which had by this time greatly slackened under the influence of the flood tide which was evidently making fast. Keeping well out toward the centre of the stream, and paddling steadily, we now made rapid progress in a northerly direction, the river gradually widening and shoaling as we went, until, by the time of sunset, we found ourselves progressing up a comparatively narrow deep-water channel with wide expanses of shallow water on either side of us, dotted here and there with dry patches of mud or sand upon which crocodiles lay basking, in some cases in groups of as many as six or eight together, while occasionally the great head of a hippopotamus appeared for a moment, only to vanish again with a little eddying swirl of the mud-charged water as the creature dived. While the sun still hovered a degree or two above the tree-tops on the western bank of the stream, the moon, now nearly full, sailed gloriously into view above the clumps of vegetation that shrouded the eastern bank; and the gradual transition from the ruddy, golden light of the dying sun to the flooding silver of the brilliant moon, with the ever-changing effects that accompanied the transition, presented a spectacle of enchanting beauty such as I had never up to that time beheld, even at sea. But, beyond a low muttered word or two and a grunt, apparently expressive of deep satisfaction at the appearance of the unclouded moon, the savages took no notice of the magical loveliness of the scene; and while I sat entranced and practically oblivious of everything else, they merely paddled the harder, conversing in low tones among themselves. Of course I did not understand a single word of what was said, yet, so much did I gather from the glances that they flung about them, and the emphasis and accent of their speech, that I shrewdly suspected them of anticipating the possibility of attack from the shore. This suspicion was strengthened, a little later on, by the fact that as we approached a certain bend in the river our timoneer edged the canoe in toward the eastern bank, until we were completely plunged in the deep shadow of the vegetation that grew right down to the water's edge, as though he were desirous of escaping observation; at least there was no other reason that I could think of for such a manoeuvre, for by this time the current was running up quite strongly, and under ordinary circumstances it would have been to our advantage to have remained in mid-channel, where the full strength of it would be felt. But if this was his object he was only partially successful; for we presently arrived abreast of a bay, or it may have been the wide entrance of a creek, many of which branched off the main stream on either hand, where the forest receded so far that, for the distance of fully half a mile, we were compelled to traverse a space of water completely flooded by the brilliant rays of the moon, and before we had accomplished half the passage a quick ejaculation of mingled annoyance and dismay from the steersman caused me to glance toward the western bank, from an opening in which half-a-dozen canoes were darting out with the evident determination to intercept us if possible. Fortunately for us, however, we had already passed the spot from which the pursuing canoes were emerging, this spot now bearing well upon our port quarter; but, on the other hand, our pursuers would presently obtain an important advantage over us, since they would soon reach the deep channel, where the upward current was now running strongly. I feared that when they arrived in that channel they would turn the bows of their craft up-stream and avail themselves of the advantage afforded by the strong current to endeavour to pass ahead of us and cut off our retreat; but in the eagerness of their pursuit they seemed to lose sight of this advantage, for they continued to head straight for us, while we, impelled by the full strength of our thirty paddles, now plied with desperate energy by our freely perspiring crew, gradually drew out and threw our pursuers still further on our quarter. Yet they were steadily nearing us, and I did not see how we could scrape clear without something in the nature of a fight. All this time we were heading straight for a low, heavily timbered point which marked another turn in the course of the stream, and I could see that our people were straining every nerve to get round this point before being overtaken. At length, with a mighty stirring up of the mud by our deep-plunging paddles in the shallow water, we shaved close round this point and almost immediately afterwards darted into a narrow creek so completely overgrown with vegetation that the boughs of the mangroves and other trees united over our heads, forming a sort of tunnel, the interior of which was so opaquely dark that it was scarcely possible to see one's hand before one's face. Yet our helmsman seemed to know the place perfectly, for he stood boldly on, urging the crew to continue their exertions. At length, after we had traversed a full hundred yards or more of the creek, we sighted a spot ahead where, doubtless in consequence of a wind-fall, or some similar phenomenon, the dense bush had been levelled, leaving room for a patch of clear moonlight, some ten yards in circumference, to fall full upon the channel of the creek, revealing every object, even the smallest, within its boundary with a clearness and distinctness that was positively startling. Arrived here, the canoe was sheered in alongside a spot where the mangroves grew thickly, and some twenty of our crew, laying in their paddles, hastily seized their bows and arrows and, springing ashore, swiftly vanished into the adjacent deep shadow, while the canoe, with the remainder of us on board, pushed across the patch of moonlight into the darkness beyond, where she was forced beneath an overhanging mass of foliage, in such a manner as to lie perfectly concealed. Hardly had this been accomplished when we heard from the river the exclamations of our pursuers, startled at our sudden and, at first, inexplicable disappearance. But it did not long remain inexplicable; some sharp eye soon detected the entrance of the creek and suspected that we were concealed therein, for, after a few minutes spent in animated discussion by the occupants, the pursuing canoes were heard cautiously approaching. It was evident that their knowledge of the creek was not nearly so complete as that of our own steersman, for whereas we had contrived, despite the pitchy darkness, to navigate the crooked channel without running foul of anything, we could hear the continual swishing of foliage and the bumping of the canoes as they encountered the overhanging branches or collided with the mangrove roots on one side or the other. We were thus able to follow the progress of their approach with the utmost precision, and the moment that the leading canoe--a craft manned by some twenty most villainous-looking savages--emerged from the darkness into the patch of brilliant moonlight, she was greeted with a murderous discharge of arrows at short range which put the greater part of her crew _hors de combat_. She was closely followed by another canoe of about the same size, the occupants of which were treated to a similarly warm reception. A warning shout from one of the survivors of this second discharge was raised in time to save those behind from pushing forward to meet a similar fate, and now the quick twanging of bowstrings and loud shouts from those ashore and afloat told that a fierce battle was raging. But our people, from the advantage of their position, had very much the best of it, and at length the pursuers were beaten off and compelled to retreat precipitately, with the loss of nearly two-thirds of their number and two canoes, which, with their wounded occupants, were left in our hands, while our party escaped absolutely unscathed. The wounded of the enemy, numbering eleven, would have met with but short shrift at the hands of their captors, but for the interposition of the man whom I have termed our timoneer, who seemed to be a petty chief. This individual carefully examined his prisoners and found that three of them were so severely wounded as to afford little hope of their recovery; these three he therefore despatched with the most callous sang-froid by driving his broad-bladed spear into their throats, after which they were flung over the side; the remaining eight, who appeared to be only temporarily disabled, were trussed up, hand and foot, with thin, tough, pliant creeper, cut from the adjacent jungle, and bestowed, without much consideration for their comfort, in the bottom of our canoe. The captured canoes were then sunk by means of a few large stones placed in them to take them down, and then heeled until the water flowed in over their gunwales, when they quickly vanished beneath the turbid, foetid waters of the creek. This done, our people made preparations for the continuation of their journey. But our leader, whose knowledge of the river seemed intimate enough to entitle him to a certificate as branch pilot, had no inclination to incur the risk of leaving the creek again at the point where we had entered it, and thus very possibly falling into a cleverly arranged ambuscade. On the contrary, he proceeded to push boldly on up the creek for a distance of several miles, much to my astonishment, for the waterway generally was so narrow as scarcely to afford room for two canoes to pass abreast, and I was momentarily expecting that this creek, like so many others of the African rivers, would abruptly end in a mud- bank overgrown with mangroves. Contrary to my anticipations, however, when a dozen times or more the banks closed in upon us in such a manner as to suggest that our further progress was about to be stayed, we would suddenly emerge into a comparatively wide channel, and push merrily on for a mile or more ere we encountered our next difficulty. In this manner we must have traversed a distance of nearly twenty miles when, to my amazement, and also that of most of the canoe's crew, I think, we suddenly emerged from the tunnel-like channel that we had been navigating for something like five hours, and found ourselves once more in what was undoubtedly the main stream of the river, and so far away from the spot at which we had diverged from it that it was nowhere to be seen. The moon had by this time risen so high in the sky as to be almost directly overhead; there was therefore little or no shadow on either bank of the river to shroud us from observation, nevertheless we continued to cling closely to the eastern bank for several miles further--the tide having now turned and being against us--until at length, the current becoming too strong for us, our leader found a practicable landing-place, and all hands, except the unfortunate prisoners of war, scrambled ashore and, hastily lighting a fire, disposed ourselves to sleep around it. Now, it will probably be thought by many that I was submitting to my uncertain fate with far greater philosophy than wisdom; but this was by no means the case. The fact was that I had no sooner awakened to the consciousness that I was a prisoner in the hands of African savages than I made up my mind that I could not too soon effect my escape from them; for although I have just spoken of my fate as uncertain I felt that, in reality, there was very little uncertainty about it. It was so rarely that a white man fell into the hands of the negro savages that when one had the misfortune to do so they generally made the utmost of him. And that "utmost" was usually something in which prolonged and agonising torture figured largely. But it would obviously be worse than useless to attempt to escape until an opportunity occurred of at least a fair prospect of success; for to attempt and _fail_ meant the extinguishment at once of all further hope. And, up to the present, I had not had a ghost of an opportunity. My captors had taken good care of that, although they had been kind enough to leave me unbound. But now, when all hands must be feeling the effect of fatigue after several hours of strenuous labour at the paddles, and were likely to sleep soundly, it was possible that, by biding my time, I might be able to steal off to the canoe and cut the bonds of the captives who had been so callously left in it, when it would be strange indeed if, out of gratitude for my release of them, they were not willing to help me to make my way back to the mouth of the river, where I should of course have to take my chance of finding a ship the master of which would be willing to receive me on board. It was not, perhaps, a very brilliant prospect, but I felt that it was at least preferable to that to which I might look forward if I remained in the company of my present owners; and accordingly when my sable companions disposed themselves to sleep, I apparently did the same, but summoned all my energies to aid me in the task of resisting the tendency toward somnolence that I felt stealing over me. But this was not nearly so easy as I had believed it would be. If I closed my eyes for a few seconds a delicious languor seized me, my thoughts began to wander, and it was only by an almost painful effort that I succeeded in, as it were, jerking myself back to full consciousness. My intention was to remain awake until all my companions had become wrapped in slumber, and then effect my escape from them; but to my chagrin I found that while it was almost impossible for me to remain awake, my captors or owners--I scarcely knew which to consider them seemed restless, watchful, and all more or less upon the alert. Finally, while waiting and watching for signs that they were succumbing to the influence of the drowsy god, I lost all control of myself and sank into a profound and delicious slumber. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. KING BANDA. How long I remained steeped in that delightful and refreshing sleep I did not then know; but when at length I awoke with a violent start the embers of the fire were merely smouldering, while the snorts and snores that were emitted by the recumbent figures grouped around it seemed to indicate that the fateful moment had arrived when I might make a bid for liberty with some prospect of success. It was now very much darker than it had been when I sank into involuntary slumber, for the moon had swung so far over toward the west that at least two-thirds of the small clearing which we occupied were enveloped in deep shadow, but I observed with some dismay that my path to the canoe lay directly across the patch that was still bathed in the moon's rays. That, however, could not be helped; I could not afford to delay until the moon had sunk low enough to throw the entire clearing into shadow, for with the setting of the moon would come dawn and sunrise. I therefore determined to start upon my attempt forthwith, and, as a first step, rolled myself over, away from the fire, as though stirring in my sleep. I was now lying with my back to the fire, and could therefore not see my companions or observe what effect, if any, my movement had had upon them; but I resolved not to fail for want of caution, so I made no further attempt to withdraw myself for the next ten minutes, but confined myself simply to a few restless movements, as though--which was actually the case--I was being worried by the swarms of minute creeping and biting things with which the spot abounded. Then, at the end of about ten minutes from my first movement, I ventured again to roll over in the same direction as before, which once more brought me with my face toward the fire. I now opened my eyes cautiously and carefully surveyed my surroundings. Not one of the black figures about the fire appeared to have altered his position in the slightest degree, so far as I could perceive, while the snoring and snorting still proceeded as vigorously as ever. I lay quite still for two or three minutes, and then, as everything seemed perfectly safe, and I had not too much time to spare, I decided that I might venture upon a somewhat more rapid mode of progression. I accordingly raised myself upon my hands and knees, and proceeded to crawl very cautiously toward the canoe, looking back from time to time to see if I were observed. It was while I was thus engaged in looking back, while still creeping forward, that, as I put forth my right hand, it fell upon something cold and clammy that stirred beneath my touch, and the next instant I felt a sharp pricking sensation in the fleshy base of my right thumb. Like lightning I snatched my hand away, threw myself backward and sprang to my feet with an involuntary cry; and as I did so I indistinctly caught sight of a small wriggling object in the long grass that seemed to vanish in a flash. It was a snake, and it had bitten me! Yes, there was no mistake about that, for as I lifted my hand to my eyes there was light enough for me to see two drops of blood, about a quarter of an inch apart upon my right hand. Upon the spur of the moment I clapped the wounded part to my mouth and sucked vigorously, spitting out such blood as I was able to draw from the wound, and this I continued to do industriously for the next hour or more. But my chance of escape was gone for that night at least; for my cry brought the whole of the savages to their feet as one man, with their weapons grasped and ready for instant use. Some half-a-dozen of them, seeing me upon my feet, sprang toward me and surrounded me with angry cries, but I did not of course make the slightest attempt to run; on the contrary, I showed them my wounded hand, and, with two fingers of my left hand extended, made a motion as of a snake striking his fangs into my flesh. The individual whom I took to be the chief of the little party thereupon led me back to the fire, and thrusting two or three dry twigs into the smouldering ashes, fanned the latter into a blaze with his breath, thus causing the twigs to ignite. Then, using these twigs as a torch, he carefully examined my wounded hand, shook his head as though to indicate that I had no chance, cast the blazing twigs to the ground, and saying a few words to his companions, lay down and again composed himself to sleep, an example at once followed by his companions. I, however, remained awake, diligently sucking my wounded hand, which soon began to swell and grow acutely painful, the throbbing pain extending all the way up my arm, right to the shoulder. The pain at length became so acute that I could sit still no longer, I therefore sprang to my feet and began to pace to and fro; but I had no sooner done so than half-a-dozen of the savages were beside me, not exactly interfering with me--for I think they understood pretty clearly what was the matter with me--but making it perfectly plain that they were watching me, and that only a certain amount of freedom would be permitted me. Whether they really understood that I was actually attempting to effect my escape when the snake bit me, I was never able to determine. At length the dawn arrived, day broke, the sun rose, and a few of the savages, taking their bows and arrows, went off into the bush to forage, as I surmised; and a little later they returned, one after the other, each bringing some contribution to the common larder, while others busied themselves in collecting fresh wood and rebuilding the fire. While they were thus engaged, one of the party, who happened to pass near the spot where I had been bitten, suddenly uttered a most dreadful yell, grasped his left foot, looked at it a moment, and then began with furious haste to search about in the long grass, which he pushed apart with the blade of his spear. A few seconds later he fell to stabbing the ground, as it seemed, savagely, finally stooping down and picking up the still writhing halves of a snake that had been cut clean in two by a blow of his spear. It was not at all a formidable-looking creature, being not more than eighteen inches long and perhaps three inches girth about the thickest part of its body. But it was an ugly, repulsive- looking brute, its head being heart-shaped, and its body almost the same thickness for the greater part of its length, terminating in a short, blunt tail. Its ground colour was a dirty grey, upon which occurred large, irregular blotches or markings of dull black with a few splashes of brilliant red here and there. The fellow who had fallen upon it with such ferocity, and who had evidently been bitten by it, brought the two writhing fragments and flung them into the fire, in the midst of which they writhed still more horribly. Then seizing a good, stout, brightly- glowing brand from the fire, he coolly sat down and applied the almost white-hot end to the wound, which was in his left instep. I do not think I ever saw anything more heroic than this act of the savage, for though the flesh hissed and smoked and gave forth a most horrible odour of burnt flesh, the man never winced, but calmly and deliberately cauterised the bite with as much care and thoroughness as though he had been operating upon somebody else. But that he was not insensible to his self-inflicted torture was very evident from the fact that in a few seconds he was literally drenched with the perspiration that started from every pore of his body. While this was happening, the leader of the party had hurriedly raked from the fire the scorched and blistered half of the snake to which the head was attached, and, seizing it by the neck, squeezed it until the jaws were forced open, revealing two long, slender, needle-like fangs projecting from the upper jaw. Holding this horrible object between the finger and thumb of his right hand, he approached me, and, before I had the least idea of what he intended to do, seized my wounded hand and approached the head of the still living reptile so closely to it that it was easily to be seen that the two tiny punctures in my flesh were exactly the same distance apart as the snake's fangs, the inference being that this was the identical reptile that had bitten me. Having satisfied himself of this, the man flung the loathsome object back into the heart of the fire, where it was soon consumed. I was by this time suffering the most dreadful agony, my hand and arm were so terribly swollen that they had almost lost all semblance to any portion of the human anatomy, while the two punctures made by the poison fangs were puffed up, almost to bursting, and encircled by two rings of livid grey colour. The throbbing of the limb, as the blood forced itself through the congested passages, can only be compared to the pulsing of a stream of fire, and I am certain that, had I been within reach of qualified surgical assistance at the moment, I should have insisted upon having the limb removed, as I was convinced that the pain of amputation would have been less acute than that from which I was suffering. Needless to say, I had no appetite for food when it was offered me a little while afterward; but I felt thirsty enough to drink the river dry, and quaffed several cocoa-nuts with an ecstasy of delight that almost caused me to forget my pain--for the moment. Breakfast over, the word was given to re-embark, and we all wended our way back to the canoe. I do not know whether it was deliberate intention, or merely the result of accident, but I could not help noticing that during the short journey from our camping-place to the spot where the canoe had been left, there were always three or four savages quite close to me, who appeared to be keeping a very careful watch upon my movements, as though they more than half suspected me of a desire to give them the slip; but I was by this time suffering such excruciating agony that, for the time being at least, all thoughts of escape were completely banished from my mind. I had become quite convinced that the bite was going to prove fatal, and my only subject of speculation was how many more hours of torture I was doomed to endure before merciful death would come to my relief. But after we had been afloat for about half an hour, and were once more speeding up the river as fast as the sturdy arms of the paddlers could urge us, I suddenly became violently sick, the paroxysm lasting for nearly ten minutes; and when I had in some degree recovered from the exhaustion attendant upon this attack, I was equally surprised and delighted to find that the pain and throbbing in my arm were distinctly less acute; and from that moment, as much to the astonishment of the savages as of myself, my symptoms rapidly improved, until by evening I was so far free from pain as to be able to sleep for several hours, although the swelling did not entirely subside until nearly forty-eight hours later. But meanwhile my fellow-sufferer, the savage who had also been bitten, and who had resorted to the heroic method of cauterising his wound, had been all day steadily developing symptoms similar to my own before the curative attack of sickness, his foot and leg, right up to the hip, had swollen to an enormous size and become so stiff that when the moment arrived for us to disembark for the night he was unable to move, and begged most piteously--as I interpreted the tones of his voice and his actions--to be left in the canoe all night, to fight out the battle between life and death alone and undisturbed. The next morning, when we went down to the canoe, the poor fellow was not only dead, but his whole body was swollen almost out of human semblance, presenting in that and other respects a most shocking and revolting spectacle. We took the corpse with us until we had reached the main channel of the river, and there flung it overboard. We had scarcely left it fifty fathoms astern when there arose a sudden violent commotion in the water about it, and a second or two later it disappeared from view, dragged down by the voracious crocodiles with which the river swarmed. I was by this time quite free from pain, and apart from a feeling of extreme debility, which I had endured for some hours on the previous day, I was not much the worse for the alarming experience that I had undergone. The death of the savage who had been bitten after me, and undoubtedly by the same reptile, conclusively proved how very narrow had been my escape from a similar fate; and I naturally fell to wondering how it was that he had succumbed to his injury while I had recovered from mine. For it seemed to me at the moment that the remedial measure which he had adopted ought, from its very severe and drastic character, to have proved much more efficacious than my own; whereas the opposite was the case. But upon further reflection I came to the conclusion that while I had proceeded to suck the poison from the wound _at once_, or within a second or two of its infliction, the savage had wasted at least a minute in pursuing and slaying his enemy before cauterising his wound, and that this minute of delay, accompanied as it was by somewhat violent action on the part of the injured man, had sufficed for the poison to obtain a strong enough hold upon his system to produce fatal results. Whether or not this is the correct explanation I must leave to those who are better qualified than myself to judge. Day after day we steadily pursued our course up the river, which, for the most part, retained the same dreary, monotonous aspect of low, bush- clad, mangrove-lined banks, and practically the same width, save where, at occasional intervals, it widened out and became dotted with islands, some of considerable size. At length we arrived at a point where the land on the western bank rose into a range of hills some eight or nine hundred feet high, densely clothed with vegetation to their summits. This range of hills extended northward for a distance of about thirty miles before it once more sank into the plain; but before it sank completely out of sight astern more high land was sighted ahead, and two days later we found ourselves navigating among some very picturesque scenery, with high land on both sides of us, some of the peaks being twelve to fourteen hundred feet high. Late in the evening of the second day after entering upon this picturesque stretch of the river we arrived at a point where the stream forked into two of apparently equal width and depth, one branch striking away to the eastward, while the other continued its northerly course. Here my savage companions proceeded with the utmost caution, frequently landing and sending one or two of the party away to reconnoitre, and otherwise behaving as though they feared attack; but after a slow and anxious progress of some twenty hours' duration they seemed to consider the danger as past, and once more pressed boldly forward. By this time I had completely recovered, not only from the effects of the snake-bite--at which my companions seemed greatly astonished--but also from the hardship and privation which I had experienced during the latter part of my voyage aboard _La Mouette_, and had begun to think very seriously of how I was to effect my escape from those who held me captive. Not that I was ill-treated by them, far from it; I enjoyed the same fare as themselves, and was never asked to share their labours, and that, I take it, was as much good treatment as I could reasonably expect under the circumstances. But I knew that they were not hampering themselves by taking me and their other prisoners this long journey up the river--much of the paddling being done against the stream--merely for the pleasure of enjoying our society. My intuition assured me that their action had a more sinister motive than this, and in any case I had no desire to penetrate the interior of equatorial Africa; therefore so soon as I felt that my health and strength were sufficiently restored to allow of my attempting the long and perilous journey back to the sea alone, I began to consider the question of escape. But the longer I thought of it the less became my hope of success; for I very soon discovered that under no circumstances whatever were my custodians disposed to allow me to stray a yard out of their sight. Without imposing any actual restraint upon me, they invariably so contrived that, if I made the slightest attempt to withdraw myself from them, three or four of the most active of the party, always well armed, had occasion to go in precisely the same direction as myself. That, however, was not my only difficulty; for, assuming for a moment the possibility of my being able to give the savages the slip, how was I, a white man, alone, unarmed, and with no means of obtaining food, to make my way down more than two hundred miles of river, flowing through a country every inhabitant of which would undoubtedly be an enemy, whose delight it would be to hunt me to death? I told myself that if I could obtain a small, light, handy canoe and weapons, even though they should but consist of a bow and arrows, the situation would not be altogether hopeless--for I possessed a very fair share of pluck and resource; but I felt that before I could effect my escape from my watchful custodians, and obtain these necessities, I might find myself in so dire a strait as to render them and all else valueless to me. Yet I would not suffer myself to feel discouraged, for I recognised that to abandon hope was to virtually surrender myself tamely to the worst that fate might have in store for me, and this was by no means my disposition; I therefore continued to keep my eyes wide open for an opportunity. But, watch as I might, the opportunity never presented itself, nor, thanks to the watchfulness of my companions, could I make one; so the time dragged on until, after a river voyage of more than three weeks, we one evening, about two hours before sunset, entered a creek important enough to suggest the idea that it might possibly be a small tributary of the main river. After paddling up it for a distance of about two miles we suddenly hove in sight of a native town of considerable size built upon the north bank of the creek, upon an area of ground that had been completely cleared of all undergrowth, but was well shaded by the larger trees which had been allowed to stand. That the town was of some importance, as well as of considerable size, I surmised from the fact that, with a few exceptions, the habitations, instead of being of the usual circular, bee-hive shape common to most native African towns, were of comparatively spacious dimensions and substantial construction, being for the most part quadrangular in plan, with thick walls built of substantial wattles, interwoven about stout poles sunk well into the ground and solidly plastered with clay which, having dried and hardened in the sun, had become quite weather-tight, protected as they were from the tropical rains by a thick thatch of palm leaves, with which also their steep sloping roofs were covered. The average size of these huts was about twenty feet long by twelve feet wide and eight feet high to the eaves; but there were others--about fifty of them altogether-- surrounded by and cut off from the rest by a high and stout palisade-- the points of the palisades being sharpened, in order, as I took it, to render the fence unclimbable--which were not only considerably larger and more substantial in point of construction, but which, as I afterward had opportunity to observe, evidenced some rude attempt at decoration in the form of grotesquely carved finials affixed to the roofs. This part of the town, situated in its centre, and covering, perhaps, a space of forty acres, was, I afterwards learned, the habitation of King Banda, his Court, the principal officers of his army and household, and the priests, whose temple, or fetish-house, stood on the opposite side of the square to that occupied by the "palace" of the king. Our appearance did not at first attract very much attention, or create any very great amount of excitement; but when we arrived within hail of the beach in front of the town--upon which were hauled up some three to four hundred canoes of various sizes--our skipper suddenly sprang to his feet and, placing his hands trumpet-wise to his mouth, began, in a curious, high-pitched voice, to shout a somewhat lengthy communication. Before it was half finished there was a very distinct commotion upon the beach; half the naked children, who had been playing in the water, were racing up to the town as fast as their legs would carry them, shouting as they went, while from every hut the inhabitants came pouring out, like ants from a disturbed nest, and began to hurry down to the beach. By the time that we arrived there must have been at least two thousand people assembled to meet us, and others were hurrying down in crowds. I soon found that I was the cause of all the commotion, for no sooner did I step out of the canoe than, although my travelling companions formed themselves into a cordon round me, and the headman or chief who had me in charge strove by virtue of his authority to prevent such a happening, there occurred a wild rush on the part of the crowd to get at least a sight of me, while those who could get near enough to me insisted upon touching my skin, apparently with the object of satisfying themselves as to the genuineness of its colour; and from their eagerness and their exclamations of astonishment I came to the conclusion that although they might have heard of, they had never actually seen a white man before, a conclusion which I afterwards found to be correct. Using the butts, and occasionally the points, of their spears freely in order to force a passage through the steadily growing crowd, my escort slowly made their way toward that part of the town which was enclosed by the palisade; and, as they did so, I studied the faces of those who thronged about me, with the object of forming some idea, if I could, of the fate that I might expect at their hands. I must confess that the results of my inspection were by no means reassuring. The first fact to impress itself upon me was that these people among whom I now found myself were of an entirely different race from the negro, properly so-called--the woolly-pated, high cheek-boned, ebony-skinned individual with snub nose and thick lips usually met with aboard a slaver. To start with, their colour was much lighter, being a clear brown of varying degrees of depth, from that of the mulatto to a tint not many shades deeper than that of the average Spaniard. But this difference, marked though it was, was not so great as that between their cast of features and that of the negro; the features of these people were, for the most part, clean cut, shapely, and in many cases actually handsome, their noses especially being exceedingly well formed. Then their head covering was hair, not wool, that of the men being worn close-cropped, while the women allowed theirs to grow at will and wore it flowing freely over the back and shoulders, the locks in many cases reaching considerably below the waist. It was invariably curly, that of the men growing in close, tiny ringlets clustering thickly all over the head, while that of the women, because it was worn longer, I suppose, took the form of long graceful curls. In colour it was a rich glossy black. They were certainly an exceptionally fine race of people, the men being lithe, clean-limbed, muscular fellows, every one of them apparently in the pink of condition, while the faces and figures of the women, especially the younger ones, would have excited the envy of many an English belle. But there was a something, very difficult to define, in the expression of these people that I did not at all like, a hardness about the mouth, and a cruel glint in the eyes--especially of the men-- which looked at me in a manner that suggested all sorts of unpleasant possibilities, and excited within me a distinct longing to be almost anywhere rather than where I was. The party who had brought me to this remote spot were of an entirely different race from those among whom I now found myself, and the fact that we were making our way toward what was obviously the aristocratic part of the town, coupled with the expressive conversation carried on by the leader of my custodians with three or four individuals who had joined us, led me to surmise--although of course I did not understand a word of what was said--that I had been brought up the river as a peace- offering or something of that sort, which conclusion was again the reverse of reassuring. As we drew near to the exceedingly narrow gate in the palisade, which had been thrown open to admit us--and which, I presently saw, was strongly guarded by a number of warriors armed with heavy, broad-bladed spears, murderous-looking swords, and small round shields, or targets, of wood covered with what looked like crocodile hide--I became sensible of a horrible charnel-house smell; but it was not until we had passed through the gate, and were inside the palisaded enclosure, that I discovered from whence it emanated. Then, observing the direction of the wind which wafted this dreadful odour to my nostrils, I looked that way and presently noticed a large dead tree standing in the middle of the square that formed the centre of this part of the town. It was the immense number of birds that wheeled and screamed about this tree that first caused me to regard it with particular attention, but even then I could not, for the moment, see anything to account for either the birds or the odour. But a minute or two later, as we drew nearer the tree, the stench meanwhile becoming almost overpoweringly strong, I detected fastened to the trunk of the tree, in a manner that was not at first apparent, nine human corpses, some of them so far advanced in decomposition that even the birds would not approach them! Then I understood that I saw before me that detestable thing of which I had often heard as the most prominent object in the typical African native town or village, the "crucifixion tree," upon which the petty despot who rules over that particular community is wont summarily to put to a cruel and lingering death such of his subjects as may be unfortunate enough to offend him! In some cases, I believe, the monarch is content to cause his victims to be securely lashed to the crucifixion tree by stout lianas, there to perish slowly of hunger and thirst; but King Banda, the potentate whose will was law in this particular town, had carried his cruelty to its utmost limit by adopting the time-honoured method of nailing his victims to the tree with spike nails driven through the hands and feet into the tough timber. The enormous crowd who had followed us up from the beach were not permitted to enter the palisaded enclosure, which was strictly taboo to the common herd; our party therefore now consisted solely of those who had brought me up the river, four individuals who had joined us outside the gate--and whom I took to be officials of some sort--and my unworthy self; and, for my own part, I would very willingly have waived the distinction of forming one of the party. Marching up to what I conjectured to be the king's house--from the fact that it was not only by far the largest dwelling in the enclosure, but was also distinguished by an exclusive embellishment in the form of a row of a dozen poles, each surmounted by a human skull, planted upright in the ground before it--we halted at a distance of some twenty paces from the entrance, with our backs turned toward the crucifixion tree, the leafless branches of which overshadowed us, and waited. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, passed, and the sun was within a hand's- breadth of the horizon when a man emerged from the "palace," bearing a massive chair of ebony, quaintly-carved, and draped with a magnificent leopard's skin, which he placed immediately before the open door, midway between the house and ourselves, and departed. A moment later another man appeared--this time from the fetish-house on the opposite side of the square--also with a chair, decorated with most gruesome--looking carvings, which he placed beside the first. Then a tall and enormously stout man, clad in a leopard-skin _moucha_, and with a handsome leopard- skin cloak on his shoulders, came forth from the palace, leaning upon the shoulders of two other men, and advanced toward the chair which had first been placed in position, into which he subsided heavily, casting a strongly disapproving glance at the second chair as he did so. Then there arose a sudden tramping of bare feet upon the dry earth, and from somewhere in the rear of the palace there swung into view a hundred picked warriors, armed like those who had mounted guard at the palisade gate, who formed up behind and on each side of the chairs with very commendable military precision. Simultaneously with the appearance of the guards--for such they were--there emerged from the fetish-house a man who appeared to be incredibly old, for his hair and beard were as white as snow, and his once stalwart form was now bowed and wizened with the passage of, as it seemed to me, hundreds of years. Yet, although in appearance a very Methuselah in age, this individual had a pair of piercing black eyes that glowed and sparkled with all the fire and passion of early manhood, and, bowed as he was, and decrepit as he appeared to be, he tottered across the intervening space with extraordinary agility, and seated himself in the second chair. Thus I found myself in the presence of the two most powerful men in the district, namely, King Banda and Mafuta, the chief witch-doctor. The contrast between these two men was most remarkable, for whereas Mafuta appeared to be the living embodiment of extreme age, King Banda could scarcely have been forty; and while Mafuta was an image of decrepitude, Banda, despite his excessive corpulence, appeared to be-- what in fact he was--a man of immense physical strength. Yet, notwithstanding this marked dissimilarity in their appearance, there was one point of strong resemblance between them: the expression of their faces, and particularly of their eyes, was ineffably cruel. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. KING BANDA'S DAUGHTER. For the space of nearly a minute there now prevailed an intense silence while King Banda sat glowering at our party, and especially at me, in a manner that caused cold chills to run down my back, as I reflected that this was the man who was responsible for the gruesome fruit borne by the tree, the branches of which overshadowed us, and that if he should by any chance take the fancy into his head to further decorate that tree by nailing a white man to it, there was nobody but myself within some hundreds of miles who would dream of saying him nay; and I somehow had a conviction that my disapproval of such a course would not very strongly influence him. At length, when the prolonged silence was beginning distinctly to get upon our nerves, the king spoke to the headman of our party, addressing to him a few curt words in a decidedly ungracious tone of voice; whereupon the headman, taking the precaution first to conciliate his Majesty by prostrating himself and rubbing his nose in the dust in token of abject submission, rose to his feet and proceeded to spin a long yarn, of which I was evidently the subject, since he repeatedly pointed to me. He must have included in his narrative the incident of the snake-bite, for at one point he seized my right hand and, turning the palm upward, pointed out the spot where the two tiny punctures of the poison fangs were still faintly visible. It appeared as if this part of his story was received with grave suspicion by both Banda and Mafuta, for I was led forward in order that each in turn might examine the marks; and after this had been done, several of the savages who had been present at the time were invited to give what I took to be corroborative testimony. When at length the headman had told his story, Banda issued a brief order to his guards, two of whom at once advanced toward me and laid their hands upon my shoulders as though to lead me away. But, whatever the order may have been, Mafuta evidently objected to it, for no sooner had it been spoken than he sprang to his feet, and with quite marvellous agility, hurried to me and seized me by the left arm, saying in an angry voice something to the guards that I interpreted as an order to release their hold upon me. But Banda promptly intervened, reiterating his order to his guards; whereupon there ensued between the two great men a most unseemly altercation, the hubbub of which had the effect of bringing the entire royal household to the door of the palace, when, catching sight of me, they unceremoniously swarmed out and crowded round me with every expression of the most unbounded astonishment, particularly on the part of the women, who apparently could not persuade themselves that the colour of my skin and hair were real, for they not only took my skin between their fingers, but gently pinched it. When they found that my shoulders and other parts of my body which had been protected from the sun were quite white, whereas the exposed parts were by this time quite as dark as their own skins, there was no limit to their amazement and delight. I thought that the women-folk seemed rather well disposed toward me, I therefore did the best I could to strengthen this feeling by smiling at them and speaking to them in a gentle tone of voice, with the result that before another five minutes had passed we were all gabbling and laughing together like so many children, although neither side understood a word of what was said by the other. In the midst of it all Mafuta sprang from his chair in a towering rage, and, addressing a few remarks to the king which seemed to make the latter feel rather uncomfortable, took himself off to his fetish-house, within which he vanished. Then the king shouted something to his women-folk which caused them to scuttle back into the palace like so many rabbits; and the next moment the two guards who had me in charge marched me off to an empty hut behind the palace--which was, luckily, to windward of the crucifixion tree, the odour from which therefore did not reach as far as my lodging--and, having signed to me to enter, mounted guard, one on each side of the door. My prison--if such it was--was a tolerably spacious affair, measuring about twenty feet long by fifteen feet wide, and it was absolutely empty; also, there being no windows to the building, and the light entering only by the open door, the obscurity, on entering, seemed profound, although a few minutes sufficed to enable one's eyes to grow accustomed to it, when, at least during daylight, it was possible to see clearly enough for all practical purposes. I had not been in my new quarters above five minutes when two elderly women entered, each bearing upon her head a large bundle of dry fern, which they cast down in one of the two corners of the hut most distant from the door and proceeded to spread there in such a fashion as to form a most comfortable bed, upon which I at once flung myself, for I was very weary. But before I could compose myself to rest two other women entered, one of whom bore, upon a thick biscuit-like cake the size of an ordinary dinner-plate, two roast ribs of goat and a generous portion of boiled yam, while the other carried a calabash full of what I took to be some kind of native beer. Evidently, whatever was to be my fate, they did not intend to starve me; and, gratefully accepting the viands, which gave forth a most appetising odour, I sat down and made a hearty meal, after doing full justice to which I composed myself to sleep upon my bed of ferns, and enjoyed a long and most comfortable night's rest. I may here mention that I never again saw the party of savages who brought me up the river, and I was therefore strengthened in the conclusion at which I had arrived that they had gone to all the trouble of conveying me that long distance in order that they might make a present of me, possibly as a peace-offering from their tribe, to King Banda, who, I soon had reason to believe, was a decidedly formidable potentate, as African kings went. For nearly a week I was kept closely confined to the hut which had been assigned to me, never being permitted to go beyond the door of the building, where, when the sun had worked round far enough to cause the building to cast a shadow, I soon got into the way of sitting for an hour or two, doing my best to ingratiate myself with the inhabitants of the place, many of whom used to come and stare at me with never-ceasing curiosity and wonder, and with whom I used to laugh and chat, although of course neither party understood a word of what was said by the other. That is to say, neither understood the other _at first_; but in the course of a few days I found that, with the more intelligent of the natives, it was possible for me to convey by signs, and by speaking with much emphasis, some sort of general idea of my meaning. It was undoubtedly by diligent practice in this direction that, after strict confinement to the interior of my hut for some five or six days, I was permitted, first of all, to wander at will about that portion of the town which was enclosed by the palisade, and ultimately to pass outside and go practically whither I would, always accompanied, however, by two armed guards. One of the greatest discomforts from which I suffered at this time was the outcome of the peculiar musical taste of King Banda's subjects. Though I was then happily unaware of the fact, the period of the great annual festival, or Customs, was approaching, and the joy of the populace began to find vent in nocturnal concerts inordinately prolonged, the musical instruments consisting of tom-toms, each beaten by two, three, or four performers--according to the size of the tom- tom--with a monotony of cadence that soon became positively maddening, further aggravated by the discordant squealing of a number of flageolet- like instruments made of stout reeds. Now, although I have not hitherto had occasion to mention the fact, I was passionately fond of music, and rather fancied myself as a performer upon the flute; one night, therefore, when one of these hideous concerts was in full blast, and when, consequently, it was useless to attempt to sleep, I sallied forth, accompanied as usual by my guards, and made my way round to the great square in front of the king's house, where, squatted round a huge fire, some twenty of these enthusiasts were tootling and thumping with a vigour that I could not help regarding as utterly misplaced. I stood watching them for a few minutes, and then approaching one of the flageolet players I held out my hand and pointed to his instrument, signifying that I desired to examine it. With some show of hesitation the man surrendered the thing, and upon inspection I found it to be a reed of about a foot in length, with a mouthpiece shaped something like that of a whistle, and with four small holes drilled in the length of the tube, whereby an expert performer might produce seven distinct tones; but the tones were not consecutive, and the instrument was altogether a very poor and inefficient affair. It furnished me with an idea, however, and on the following day, by dint of much suggestive gesticulation, I contrived to intimate to my guard my desire to obtain a reed similar to those from which the native instruments were made. They offered no objection, but conducted me some distance beyond the town, through the bush, to a spot on the bank of the river where the reed was growing in abundance. I had resolved to make myself either a flute or a flageolet, whichever might prove easiest, and I accordingly selected with great care half-a-dozen of the most suitable reeds that I could find, and, borrowing his spear from one of my guards, cut them, taking care that they should be of ample length for my purpose. Then I hunted about for some soft wood wherefrom to make mouthpieces and the stopped end of the flute; and it was while I was thus engaged that I made a most important discovery, which was nothing less than that there were several very fine specimens of the cinchona tree growing in the jungle quite close to the town. This was a singularly fortunate and opportune discovery, for I had already observed that fever and ague were very prevalent among the inhabitants, and I hoped that if by means of a decoction of cinchona bark I could effect a cure, I might be able very materially to improve and strengthen my position in the town. I therefore collected as much of the bark as I could conveniently carry, and took it back with me to my hut, where I lost no time in preparing a generous supply of tolerably strong solution of quinine. This done, I sallied forth on the look-out for patients, and soon found as many as I wanted. But it was one thing to find them, and quite another to persuade them to swallow my medicine, and it was not until at length I administered a pretty stiff dose to myself that I prevailed upon a man to allow me to experiment upon him. That, however, was quite sufficient; for it did him so much good that not only did he come to my hut clamouring for more, but brought several fellow-sufferers with him, with the result that before the week was out I had firmly established my reputation as a powerful witch-doctor. I very soon found, however, that this reputation was by no means an unmixed blessing; for the people jumped to the conclusion that if I could cure one disease I could of course cure all; and I speedily found myself consulted by patients suffering from ailments of which I did not even know the names, and expecting to be cured of them. Yet, astonishing to say, I was marvellously successful, all things considered, for when at a loss I administered pills compounded of meal dough and strongly flavoured with the first harmless substance that came to hand, and so profound was the belief of these people in my ability that at least half of them were cured by the wonderful power of faith alone. All this, however, was exceedingly detrimental to the reputation of Mafuta, the chief witch-doctor of the community, who found his power and influence rapidly waning, and he soon discovered means to make me understand that I must cease to trespass upon what he deemed his own exclusive sphere of operations, on pain of making him my mortal enemy. This of course was bad, for I was in no position to make any man my enemy, much less an individual of such power and influence as Mafuta; nevertheless I continued to prescribe for all who came to me, trusting that if ever it should come to a struggle between Mafuta and myself, the gratitude of my patients would suffice to turn the scale in my favour. Meanwhile I devoted my spare moments to the construction of a flute, and, after two or three partial failures, succeeded in producing an instrument of very sweet tone and a sufficient range of notes to enable me to tootle the air of several of the most popular songs of the day, as well as a fairly full repertoire of jigs, hornpipes, and other dance music. And it was particularly interesting to observe how powerfully anything in the nature of real music, like some of the airs of Braham, Purcell, Dr Arne, and Sir H. Bishop, appealed to these simple savages; a sentimental ditty, such as "The Anchor's weighed" or "Tom Bowling," would hold them breathless and entranced; "Rule, Britannia!" or "Should He upbraid" set them quivering with excitement; and they seemed to know by intuition that "The Sailor's Hornpipe" was written to be danced to, and they danced to it accordingly a wild, furious, mad fandango in which the extraordinary nature of the gambols of the performers was only equalled by the ecstasy of their enjoyment. Such proceedings as these could not of course long exist without the fame of them reaching the ears of the king, and I had only given some three or four performances when I was summoned to entertain his Majesty and his household, which I did in the great square before the palace, my audience numbering quite two thousand; Banda and his numerous family being seated in a huge semicircle--of which I was the centre--in front of the palace, while the rest of the audience filled the remaining portion of the square. It was now that I first began to grow aware of the fact that there was a certain member of the king's household who seemed to be taking rather more interest in me than any one else had thus far manifested. She was a girl of probably not more than sixteen years of age, but for all that a woman, and, as compared with the rest, a very pretty woman too; quite light in colour, exquisitely shaped, and with a most pleasing expression of countenance, especially when she smiled, as she generally did when my eyes happened to meet hers. I had seen her many times before, but had never taken very particular notice of her until now that she appeared determined to make me understand that she was friendly disposed toward me. I endeavoured to ascertain who she was; but although I had contrived to pick up a few words of the language, my ignorance of it was still so great that I had experienced the utmost difficulty in making myself understood, and all I could then learn about her was that her name was Ama. It was not until later that I discovered her to be King Banda's favourite daughter. And the discovery was made in a sufficiently dramatic manner, as shall now be related. It happened that one night, when, as now was frequently the case, I had been summoned to entertain the king and his household by "obliging them with a little music," I was playing some soft, plaintive air--I forget what--when, chancing to glance toward Ama, who, seated on the ground on the extreme left of the semicircle, was well within my range of vision, I fancied I saw some moving object close to her left hand, which was resting lightly on the ground. At the moment I took but scant notice of the circumstance, for the flickering flames of the fire which was always kindled upon such occasions played strange pranks with the lights and shadows, and often imparted a weird effect of movement to stationery and even inanimate objects; but presently, happening to again glance in that direction, my eye was once more caught by the same queer wavering movement. There was something so strange and uncanny about it--for I by this time knew the ground well enough to be fully aware that there _ought not_ to be any moving thing there--that I stopped playing and sprang to my feet so suddenly that my movement appeared to startle Ama, who uttered a little cry of alarm, or surprise, and made as though she too would spring to her feet. At that instant the thing upon which my gaze was fixed, and which looked like half a fathom of stiff tarred lanyard, darted with lightning swiftness at the girl and coiled itself about her shapely bare arm, while a piercing scream rang out from her pallid lips. I of course knew in an instant what it was--a snake, that very possibly had been attracted to the spot by the notes of my flute, and, startled by the sudden cessation of the music and Ama's quick, involuntary movement, had instantly coiled itself round her arm and struck at it in its blind and panic-stricken rage. Acting upon the impulse of the moment, and scarcely knowing what I was about, with a single bound I flung myself upon the terrified girl and, guided more by instinct than reason, seized the reptile immediately behind the head in so vice-like a grip that its jaws at once opened wide, when I tore its hideous coils from the girl's arm and flung it far from me into the very heart of the blazing fire. Then, gripping the wounded limb, I turned it toward the light of the fire, and saw two marks close together upon the inner part of the arm, just below the elbow, from which, as I gazed, two drops of blood began to ooze slowly. Without wasting a moment, I applied my lips to the double wound, intending to suck the poison from it, even as I had done in my own case; but another startling scream from the girl caused me to look up, and, following the direction of her terrified glance, I looked behind me and beheld the king himself, his eyes ablaze with demoniac fury, in the very act of raising a spear that he had snatched from the hand of one of his guards, to drive it through my body. Whether it was that he had not seen just what had happened--as might very well have been the case, since the whole thing seemed to have occurred in the space of a single instant--and was under the impression that I had suddenly gone mad and was attacking his daughter, I know not, but it is certain that Ama's scream, and certain hasty words uttered by her, only barely saved me from his fury. But no sooner did he lower the threatening spear than I once more glued my lips to the wound, sucking hard at it with the object of extracting the poison before it had contaminated the blood; and in this effort I was happily successful, for although there was a slight swelling of the limb, and some pain for an hour or two, that was all that happened; and before morning my patient had quite recovered from all the effects of her alarming adventure. The result of this was that I immediately became a prime favourite of the king. There was no further pretence of treating me as a prisoner, but, on the contrary, I was loaded with honours. A large house was assigned to my use, with a complete staff of servants to attend to my wants; an abundant supply of food was daily sent to me from the royal table; and, as I understood it, I was appointed physician in ordinary to the royal household. Another result--to which I did not attach nearly sufficient importance at the moment--was that I made an implacable and deadly enemy of Mafuta, the chief witch-doctor. I have said that there was no further pretence of treating me as a prisoner, and this was true, but only within certain limits, as I discovered the moment that I set about taking measures to effect my escape. I was allowed to go freely where I pleased, it is true, even to the extent of making long hunting or exploring excursions into the adjacent country, but--whether or not by the king's orders I could never satisfactorily ascertain--I soon found that I could never manage to steal off anywhere alone. If ever I attempted such a thing--and I did, very frequently--a party of the king's guards was certain to turn up, in the most exasperatingly casual and unexpected manner, and join me, under the pretence, as they made me understand, that it was extremely dangerous to venture alone beyond the confines of the town, if I pretended that I was engaged in hunting for animals, or plants to be used in my medical practice. Or, if I attempted to go anywhere by water, I could take any canoe I chose, but two or more men always insisted upon accompanying me, that I might be spared the labour of paddling. It was always the same, no matter what the hour of day or night that I might choose to start upon my expeditions; no surprise was ever displayed at my eccentricity in the choice of times, but I simply could not contrive to elude notice; and at length it was borne in upon me that if I wished to effect my escape I must adopt tactics of a totally different kind. I therefore very gradually curtailed my excursions, and when I undertook them was careful that there should be nothing in the nature of secrecy connected with my movements. Meanwhile, without any effort on my part, I now seemed to see a good deal of Ama, the king's daughter, who appeared to have assumed the responsibility of seeing that my house was kept in order, and that the servants were faithfully performing their duty. She was frequently in and out, as often as three or four times a day, and very seldom indeed less than twice; moreover, she seemed exceedingly anxious to become my instructress in her own language, and as I had already felt heavily handicapped on several occasions by my inability to converse freely with those around me I made no demur, although I must confess that I at length began to view with vague disquietude the extreme freedom of intercourse thus instituted by the young woman. Yet I scarcely knew precisely what it was that I feared, but I certainly had a feeling that the situation was not altogether devoid of peril, one of the most obvious of which was foreshadowed in the question which I frequently asked myself, What would the king think of the intimacy of his daughter with one of totally different race and views of life, should the matter chance to come to his knowledge? Therefore I kept a very close watch upon myself, and was careful never to allow my manner to relax in the slightest degree from the strictest formality, although to preserve consistently this attitude of extreme reserve was sometimes exceedingly difficult with a companion of so amiable and altogether winsome a manner and disposition as that of Ama. Under the zealous and indefatigable tuition of this young damsel I made astonishingly rapid progress as a student of the language spoken by those around me, and was soon able to converse in it with a very fair amount of freedom. Meanwhile I had practically abandoned my attempts to effect my escape, for the time being at least; for the conviction had at length been forced upon me that neither Banda nor his people would ever willingly let me go, and that, therefore, before engaging in any further attempts, I must contrive to disarm suspicion completely, and create the impression that I had at length resigned myself to live out my life in this remote African town, and with savages only for my companions. It was while matters were in this very unsatisfactory state that I became aware that some event of extreme importance was imminent in the town; for upon sallying forth from my residence on a certain morning and crossing the great square, in the centre of which stood Banda's crucifixion tree, I saw that a number of men were engaged in setting up some forty stout, quaintly-carved posts in a circle round about the tree. The arrangement somehow had a sinister, suggestive appearance that made me feel vaguely uncomfortable; and abandoning the intention, whatever it may have been, that took me to the spot, I returned to my house, and, as soon as Ama made her appearance, asked her what it meant. "It means, my dear Dick," said she, laying her hand upon my arm, and looking very serious--she had insisted upon knowing my name, and calling me by it, early in our acquaintance--"that the Customs begin six days hence; and those men whom you saw setting up the posts round the crucifixion tree are making preparations for them." "The Customs!" I exclaimed, in horrified accents, for I had heard of these grim and ghastly festivities before. "And pray, Ama, what is the nature of these Customs under your father's beneficent rule?" "Oh, they are horrible; I hate them!" answered the girl. "They last six days--six whole days, in which the people abandon themselves to every kind of licence and cruelty, in which human blood is shed like water. I do not think _you_ will like them, Dick--at least I hope not!" "Like them?" I ejaculated indignantly. "I should think not, indeed. But I suppose a fellow is not obliged to watch them, is he? I shall go off into the forest, or up the river, during those six days--" "Nay, Dick, you will not be able to do either of those things," answered Ama. "In the first place I am not at all certain that the king would give you leave; and, even if he did, you would not be permitted to go alone; and where would you find men willing to absent themselves from the Customs for the sake of accompanying you? There is not a man in the town who would consent to do so. No, I am afraid that we shall both be obliged to witness them." "No," I said. "We must devise some scheme whereby we may both be exempted. You say that they take place six days hence; it will be strange indeed if our united ingenuity is not equal to the task of devising some simple yet efficacious plan. But, tell me, Ama, where do the victims come from, and how many of them are usually sacrificed?" "The number sacrificed depends, of course, upon how many can be found," answered Ama; "but generally there are at least three hundred; this time it is hoped that there may be many more. As to where they come from, a good many are `smelled out' by Mafuta and his assistants, and the rest are made up of such prisoners as may happen to be in our possession at the time. There are five hundred hunters out now securing prisoners; we expect them back to-morrow or the next day. And that reminds me, Dick," she added, with a sudden access of gravity, "if you had not been clever enough to save my life when the snake bit me, you would most certainly have been one of the victims; indeed it was with a view to sacrificing you at the Customs that my father accepted you from the Igbo." "The dickens it was!" ejaculated I, in some dismay. "Then who is to say that I shall not be still included in the batch?" "Nay," answered Ama; "you saved my life, and for that my father will spare you. It is not he whom you have to fear, but Mafuta. Mafuta hates you, I know, and would willingly `smell you out' if he dared; but the people will not let him; for where would they get any one else to play beautiful music to them if you were to die? Besides, do you think _I_ would allow any one to hurt you? My father is the king; no one, not even Mafuta, dare dispute his will; and I have more influence than any one else with the king. Nay, fear not, Dick, none shall hurt you while I live." "I would that I could feel as fully assured of that as you appear to be, Ama," answered I. "With all due respect to your father, I may perhaps be permitted to remark that he has impressed me as a man of singularly short and uncertain temper; and if I should ever chance to be so unfortunate as to offend him--" At this moment two guards presented themselves at the door of my hut and, saluting, one of them curtly remarked: "The king is ill, and commands the presence of the white man at the palace _at once_!" "The king--my father--ill!" ejaculated Ama, in a tone of greater consternation than seemed quite called for. "Let us go at once, Dick. And--oh, you must cure him--you must, _for your own sake_, Dick!" CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. DOOMED TO THE TORTURE. "You must cure him--you _must, for your own sake, Dick_!" Exactly. In uttering those words Ama unconsciously disclosed how slight was her confidence in the influence over her father, of which she had been boasting only a moment or two before the arrival of the summons for me to attend that father on his bed of sickness. It was all very well for her to tell me that I _must_ cure him; but suppose that I could not, suppose that the sickness--whatever it might be--should run its course and fail to yield to my treatment, what then? The reason, so urgently expressed by her, why I must effect a cure--"for your own sake, Dick,"-- was significant enough of the direction in which her apprehensions pointed; there was no necessity for me to inquire what she meant. I _must_ cure the king, or it would be so much the worse for me! And how was I to cure him? My knowledge of disease was of the slightest and most amateurish kind, and, for aught that I could tell to the contrary, might not even be sufficient to enable me to diagnose the case correctly, much less to treat it successfully! However, there was no use in meeting trouble half-way; the only possible course was to obey the summons forthwith, and do my best, leaving the result in the hands of Providence. I accordingly rose to my feet and, motioning the guards to lead the way, followed them to the palace, with Ama walking by my side and holding my hand in a protective sort of way. The distance from my hut to the palace was but a few yards; and we quickly arrived at our destination, being at once conducted into the presence of the king, who, stretched upon a couch, and evidently suffering severe pain in his internal organs, was surrounded by the somewhat numerous members of his family. As I approached the side of his couch he gazed at me with lack-lustre eyes and groaningly said: "I am very sick, O Dick; my entrails are being burnt up within me! Cure me at once and I will give thee my daughter Ama as thy wife and make thee a powerful chief!" "I thank thee, Banda, for thy magnificently generous promises," answered I, "but I will gladly do my utmost for thee without reward. Tell me, now, how long hast thou been like this?" "Not very long," answered the king; "perhaps while the sun has been climbing thus far,"--describing with his hand the arc of a circle measuring about seven degrees, or, say, half an hour--"I had just finished my breakfast when the pains seized me." "Ah!" remarked I, trying to look as though I knew all about it; "and of what did thy breakfast consist?" "Of very little, for I am but a moderate eater," answered the king. Let me consider. There was, first, a broiled fish, fresh from the river, with boiled yams; then a few roast plantains--not more than a dozen, I think; then the roast rib of a cow; a few handfuls of boiled rice; and-- yes, I think that was all, except a bowl of jaro'--the latter being a kind of native beer. It occurred to me that, probably, after this very "moderate" meal, his Majesty might be suffering from indigestion, although the "burning" pains in the stomach puzzled me a bit. I therefore came to the conclusion that if vomiting could be freely induced almost immediate relief ought to follow; and I accordingly prescribed the only emetic which I could think of at the moment, namely, copious draughts of warm water, followed by tickling the back of the throat with a feather. These means were so far successful that the patient acknowledged a certain measure of relief; but after a time the burning pains recurred and seemed to become more acute than ever, to my profound dismay; for, goaded almost to madness by the intensity of his suffering, the king was rapidly growing as dangerous as a wounded buffalo, and, between the paroxysms of his anguish, began to threaten all and sundry with certain pains and penalties, the mere enumeration of which made my flesh creep and plunged me into a cold perspiration. At length, after a more than usually intense paroxysm of pain had passed, Gouroo, Banda's favourite wife, who was present, and whose virulent animosity I had been unfortunate enough to arouse, bent over the patient and whispered something in his ear, the purport of which I could not catch. But it was a suggestion, the nature of which I was able to divine without difficulty, for, by way of reply, Banda ejaculated between his groans: "Yes, yes; let Mafuta be instantly summoned. And as for the white man, let the presumptuous pretender be closely confined in his own hut until I can decide upon the nature of his punishment. Away with him at once; and if he is allowed to escape, the guards who have him in charge shall be nailed, head downward, to the crucifixion tree!" Gouroo smiled a smile of triumphant malice as, in reply to her summons, two guards entered, and, seizing me roughly, hurried me away; while Ama, bathed in tears, flung herself upon her knees beside her father's couch and vainly besought him to have mercy upon me. As I passed out of the room I saw the king, writhing in agony, rise upon his couch and strike the poor girl a violent blow, while he bellowed a fierce command to her to withdraw from his sight. It was nearly noon when I was conducted back to my hut after my futile attempt to cure the king; and it was not until close upon sunset that I got any further news, when one of the guards who had me in charge informed me, as he brought in my supper, that Mafuta had completely cured the king within an hour of the moment when he was first summoned to his Majesty's bedside; that Banda had already risen from his couch; and that, in requital for his service, Mafuta had claimed--and been granted--the right to dispose of me as he pleased upon the occasion of the forthcoming festival of the Customs! Which meant, of course, that I was to die by some exquisite refinement of torture, the nature of which would probably be too dreadful for description. For I very shrewdly suspected that Gouroo and Mafuta were equally interested in my downfall--might, indeed, have conspired in some mysterious manner to bring it about--and would probably take care that it should be as complete and disastrous as savage vindictiveness could make it. The days now dragged themselves away upon leaden feet, yet--apparent paradox--with frightful rapidity; for I now no longer had a household to attend to my wants; my meals were brought to me with unfailing regularity by my guards, but they had apparently been forbidden to communicate with me, for not a word could I get out of them, good, bad, or indifferent. I was not permitted to show myself in the doorway of my dwelling, or even to approach it nearly enough to see what was going on; and in this dreadful solitude, waiting and hoping for I knew not what impossible happening to occur and effect my deliverance, each day seemed to drag itself out to the length of a month--until the darkness came; and then, with the realisation of the fact that I was so much nearer to a hideous fate, the hours seemed suddenly to have sped with lightning swiftness. The excited buzz and bustle of preparation pervaded the town all day, and every day, while night again became a pandemonium of barbarous sounds--for the tom-tom and flageolet concerts had been resumed with tenfold virulence since my incarceration--and on one occasion a terrific uproar announced the arrival of the unhappy prisoners who had been captured, in order that the festival might lose nothing of its importance or impressiveness through lack of a sufficient tale of victims; but I could not detect any indications of an attempt on the part of any one to communicate with me; and at length the latent hope that Ama's boast of her influence with her father might be verified, and that she might succeed in inducing the king to spare me, died out, and I began to prepare myself, as best I could, to meet whatever fate might have in store for me with the fortitude befitting a Christian and an Englishman. But do not suppose that all this while I was supinely and tamely acquiescing in the fate that awaited me. Far from it. For the first few days of my captivity my brain was literally seething with schemes for effecting my escape, most of them wildly impossible, I admit; but some there were that seemed to promise just a ghost of a chance of success--until I attempted to put them into effect, when the vigilance of my guards--with the fear of crucifixion, head downward, before their eyes--invariably baffled me. Thus the time passed on until the first day of the Customs dawned, when, having received a more than usually substantial meal, I was stripped of the few rags that still covered my nakedness, and, with my hands tightly bound behind me by a thin but strong raw-hide rope, was led forth to the great square wherein the Customs were celebrated, and firmly bound to one of the posts, the erection of which I had witnessed a week earlier. Of course I was but one of many who were to gasp out their lives in this dreadful Aceldama; and in a very short time each post, or stake, was decorated with its own separate victim, some of whom, it seemed, were to perish by the torture of fire, for after the victims had been secured to the stakes, huge bundles of faggots, composed of dry twigs and branches, were piled around some of them. What the fate of the rest of us was to be there was nothing to indicate, but I had no doubt that it would be something quite as dreadful as fire; and I had fully made up my mind that when my turn came I would endeavour, by insult and invective, to goad my tormentors to such a state of fury and exasperation as should provoke them to finish me off quickly. All being now ready, the gate in the palisade was thrown open, a conch- shell was blown, and the waiting inhabitants began to pour into the enclosure with all the eagerness and excitement of an audience crowding into the unreserved portions of a theatre, and in a very short time the great square was full, the front ranks pressing close up to a cordon of armed guards that had been drawn round the circle of posts. Then, while the air vibrated with the hum and murmur of many excited tongues, shouts and a disturbance in the direction of the palace proclaimed the approach of the king and his household, and presently the entire party, numbering some three hundred, passed in and made their way to a kind of grand- stand, from which an admirable view of all the proceedings was to be obtained. I looked for Ama, but could not see her; Gouroo, however, was present and favoured me with a smile of malicious triumph. Banda himself took not the slightest notice of my presence. No sooner were the royal party seated than a commotion on the opposite side of the square portended another arrival; and in a few minutes, through a narrow lane that had been formed in the dense mass of people, Mafuta and his myrmidons, to the number of nearly a hundred, came leaping and bounding into the open space beneath the crucifixion tree. Daubed all over their naked bodies with black, white, and red paint, with their hair gathered into a knot on the crown of the head, and decorated with long feathers, strings of big beads, and long strips of scarlet cloth--obtained from goodness knows where--with necklaces of birds' and animals' claws about their necks, and girdles of animals' entrails round their waists, they presented as hideous and revolting a picture as can possibly be imagined as they went careering madly round the circle, each man waving a long spear over his head. Now I noticed a curiously subdued but distinct commotion among the spectators of the front rank, each of whom seemed anxious to surrender his apparently advantageous position to whomsoever might be willing to accept it. But, singularly enough, no one seemed desirous to avail himself of his neighbour's generosity; and the reason soon became apparent; for presently, in the midst of their wild bounding round the inner edge of the tightly packed mass of spectators, they came to a sudden halt, and Mafuta, advancing alone, proceeded to "smell out" those who were supposed to be inimical to the king's or his own authority, or against whom either of them had a secret grudge. With his body bent, his head thrust forward, and his nostrils working, he slowly passed along the inner face of the crowd, his shifty eyes darting hither and thither, until his gaze happened to fall upon one of the individuals for whom he was looking, when he would come to a halt, appear to be following a scent, and finally stretch forth his spear and lightly smite some man or woman on the head with it. The unhappy victim, thus "smelled out," would thereupon be instantly taken in charge by Mafuta's followers, and the process would be repeated until all those whose removal was desired had been gathered in. In the present case the victims numbered nearly a hundred, and the finding of them consumed the best part of two hours. The process of "smelling out" being at an end, and those who had passed the ordeal unscathed being relieved of all further apprehension, the enormous crowd which had gathered to witness the "sports" settled down to thoroughly enjoy itself. And certainly there was a very commendable celerity manifested by those who had the direction of affairs; there was no disposition to keep the holiday-makers waiting; the unhappy victims were led up, one after the other, before King Banda, and their supposed crimes very briefly recited to him, whereupon his Majesty, with equal brevity, pronounced their sentence--in all cases that of death--which was at once carried out, the only difference consisting in the mode of execution; some of the unfortunate wretches being secured to the crucifixion tree in one way, some in another; but it was very difficult for a mere onlooker to decide which of the plans adopted inflicted the most suffering. These victims, it should be explained, were doomed to remain fastened to the tree until death should ensue from hunger, thirst, exposure, and the agony of their wounds. Then, in batches of ten at a time, forty more victims were triced up to the boughs of this accursed tree by raw-hide ropes fastened to one wrist or one ankle, in such positions that their bodies showed clearly against the bright background of sky; and, while thus suspended, whosoever would was at liberty to shoot at them with bows and arrows, the great object being, apparently, to pierce the body with as many arrows as possible without inflicting a mortal injury. King Banda evidently prided himself upon his skill in this direction. But there were a few bunglers among the crowd, for some of the shots went so far astray that instead of hitting the mark at which they were supposed to be aimed, they hit and _slew_ some half-a-dozen of the crucified ones. I wondered whether by any chance the fatal wounds were actually inflicted by interested persons who desired to put as speedy an end as possible to the sufferings of their unfortunate friends; and if so, whether the idea would occur to Ama to enlist the services of a few good marksmen in my behalf when my turn should come. When all those who had been condemned to die in the above manner had perished, a further variety was imparted to the proceedings by compelling some fifty victims to "run the gauntlet." This is a very favourite form of pastime among savages, and is carried out in a variety of ways. In the present instance a narrow circular course was arranged round the great square, a lane of about a yard in width being formed through the mass of spectators, and into this lane the victims, stripped naked, were introduced, one at a time, to run round and round until beaten to death by the bare fists of as many as could get in a blow at them. And, since the lane was so exceedingly narrow, it happened that practically every individual on either side of the lane was able to get in at least one blow. To the uninitiated this may seem a not particularly inhumane form of inflicting the death punishment; but I, who saw the whole remaining part of the day spent in doing some fifty poor wretches to death in that fashion, can tell a very different story; there is no need to enter into details, but I may say that those who were weakest, and who succumbed most quickly, were to be most envied. The day had opened with a cloudless sky and brilliant sunshine; but, as the hours dragged themselves slowly away, clouds, light and filmy at first but gradually growing more dense and threatening, began to gather, until toward evening the sun became blotted out and the whole vault of heaven grew overcast and louring, as though nature, horrified and disgusted at the orgy of human cruelty being enacted here on this little spot of earth, were veiling her face to shut out the shameful sight. By the time that the proceedings of the day were over and the enormous crowd began to disperse, it became evident that a more than usually violent tropical thunderstorm was brewing, although it might be some hours yet before it would burst over the blood-stained town. Naturally, I was very thankful that the awful day had passed over, and that its end found me still in the land of the living; for "while there is life there is hope," and in the course of my somewhat adventurous career I have seen so many extraordinary escapes from apparently inevitable disaster that the one piece of advice above all others which I would give to everybody is "Never despair!" I can recall more than one occasion when, if I had abandoned hope and the effort which goes with it, I should not now have been alive to pen these words. No man can ever know what totally unexpected happening may occur to effect his deliverance at the very moment when fate looks blackest and most threatening. But although I had passed through the day unscathed, so far as actual bodily injury was concerned, it had nevertheless been a day of suffering for me, growing ever more acute as the hours dragged wearily away, for, apart from the feelings of horror with which I had witnessed the display of so much unimaginable cruelty and torture, the bonds which confined me to my post had been drawn so tightly as greatly to impede the circulation of blood through my extremities, until by the time that the great square was empty of its crowd of bloodthirsty revellers, the anguish had become so great that I was almost in a fainting condition and could give but scant attention to anything beyond the pangs that racked every nerve of my tortured body; in fact I observed, with feelings of envy, that many of my fellow-sufferers had already succumbed and become unconscious, if indeed they were not dead. However, since we had been spared thus far, I concluded that we might reasonably hope to be reprieved at least until the next day, and I looked with impatience to be released and conveyed back to my place of confinement until dawn should again summon me forth to witness and, peradventure, be the victim of accumulative horrors. But I soon discovered that even this small measure of mercy was to be denied me; food and drink were indeed to be served out to us--in order, as I surmised, that we might meet the ordeal in store for us with unabated strength--but the night was to be passed, as the day had been, secured to the sacrificial post, exposed, naked and helpless, to the elements and to the myriad insect plagues that attacked us unceasingly. I noted that while those who had not succumbed to their sufferings were fed as they stood still bound to their posts, those who had become unconscious were temporarily released, and revived by being copiously soused with water, and, further, were allowed to eat and drink while seated on the ground, before they were lashed up afresh; and I took the hint, feigning insensibility for the sake of the few minutes of temporary relief that I hoped thus to win. By the time that the attendants reached me I was so near to swooning that very little pretence was necessary, and when at length they released me I sank to the ground in a heap with a low groan. I gathered from their remarks that they were seriously concerned at my condition, for it seemed that I was reserved for some very especial refinement of torture, the satisfactory application of which demanded that I must come to it in the possession of my full strength, which they feared had been seriously sapped by the suffering which I had already endured, and they freely expressed their concern lest, under existing circumstances, I should not furnish quite so much sport as was being expected of me. They therefore displayed real solicitude in their efforts to revive me, which I took especial care they should not accomplish too quickly. But, oh, what exquisite torment was mine when, my bonds being released, the blood once more began to circulate through my benumbed members! I could have screamed aloud with the excruciating agony, had not my pride prevented me; and it was a full hour before I had sufficiently recovered the use of my hands to enable me to convey food and drink to my lips. The food and drink provided for me were of an especially nourishing character, and when at length I had partaken of as much as I could force down my throat I was again lashed to my stake, but this time so carefully that, while for me to loose my bonds was an impossibility, the circulation of blood was in nowise impeded; and for even this small mercy I was inexpressibly grateful. Meanwhile the night had fallen so intensely dark that the completion of the task of feeding us unfortunates had to be accomplished by torchlight; and we had not been very long left to ourselves before the faint flickering of distant lightning and the low muttering and grumbling of thunder warned us to expect a storm of more than ordinary violence. Everything portended it; the atmosphere was absolutely still, not a twig or even a leaf stirred, all nature seemed to be waiting in breathless suspense for the coming outbreak; even the insects had ceased to attack us, and had retired to their leafy retreat, and the air was so heavy and close that, naked as I was, I perspired at every pore. Not a sound broke the unnatural stillness save when, at irregular intervals, a low groan broke from some poor wretch upon the crucifixion tree in whom the life still lingered. But even to them relief was promised, for with the impending downpour of rain their wounds would quickly mortify, and then their sufferings would soon be at an end. Very slowly and gradually the storm worked its way toward the zenith, gathering intensity as it rose, and at length--probably about ten o'clock--the first drops of rain, hot and heavy, like gouts of blood, began to fall, quickly increasing to a drenching downpour, accompanied by lightning, green, rose-tinted, violet, sun-bright, that lighted up the town until every object, however minute, was as clearly visible as in broad daylight, while the ceaseless crashing of the thunder was unspeakably appalling. In the very height of the storm, when thunder, lightning, and rain together were raging in a perfect pandemonium, a stream of steel-blue lightning darted straight from the zenith, struck the crucifixion tree, and shattered it into a thousand fragments, leaving a great hole in the ground where it had stood! The storm continued to rage in full fury for about an hour, and then the flashes of lightning, with their accompanying peals of thunder, gradually became less frequent, although the rain continued to beat down upon the parched earth in a perfect deluge which formed rivulets, ay, and even brooks of quite respectable size, flowing in every direction. My weary and aching frame soothed and refreshed by the pelting rain, I must have fallen into a kind of doze, for I was suddenly startled into full consciousness by the feeling that some one was meddling with my bonds, which, the next moment, severed by a sharp knife, fell from my limbs. Then a small soft hand seized mine and dragged me swiftly away from the stake to which I had been bound. It was so intensely dark just then, however, that I was quite unable to see where I was going, and was obliged to trust implicitly to my unknown guide. For two or three minutes we twisted hither and thither, blindly, so far as I was concerned, and then another flash came which enabled me to see that my companion was, as I had already suspected, my faithful little friend Ama, and that she was conducting me, by a somewhat circuitous route, toward the gate in the palisade. "A thousand thanks to you, Ama, for coming to my help," I murmured in her ear as I squeezed her hand. "But whither are you taking me? To the gate? We can never pass it! The guards--" "They are not there; they are sheltering in the houses close at hand, I expect; I took care to find out before coming to release you. And now, Dick, we must be silent," answered Ama, as we cautiously approached the spot where I knew the gate must be. Suddenly my guide halted, and pressed herself and me close up against the wall of a building of some kind, at the same time feeling for my face in the darkness, and laying her finger on my lips to enjoin perfect silence. Here we waited for nearly five minutes until another flash of lightning came, when my companion, having caught a glimpse of her surroundings, again hurried me forward, and a few seconds later we had passed through the unguarded gate, closed it behind us, and were rapidly making our way through the streets of the outer part of the town, in the direction of the beach. About half-way down, however, we turned sharply aside and plunged down a narrow lane, which, after some twisting and turning, at length brought us out clear of the town into a plantain grove. And all this time we had not seen a single living creature, no, not so much as a dog; every living thing, save ourselves, had taken shelter from the fury of the elements, and was not likely to venture abroad again until it was over. Still hurrying me forward, Ama led the way through the grove and along its edge, until we eventually reached a narrow bush path, through which it was necessary to wend our way circumspectly, for it was now as black as a wolf's mouth, save when an occasional flicker of lightning from the now fast-receding storm momentarily lit up our surroundings. We traversed this path for about half a mile, still maintaining perfect silence, and at length emerged, quite suddenly, upon a tiny strip of beach, beyond which hissed and gurgled the stream, already swollen by the rain. A flash of lightning, that came most opportunely at this moment, revealed a small light canoe hauled up on the beach, with a couple of paddles, a sheaf of spears, bows and arrows, and a few other oddments in it. "Get in quickly, Dick, and let us be going," murmured Ama hastily. "The storm is passing away, and it cannot now be long before some one will visit the prisoners to see how they have fared; indeed, that may have happened already. And, whenever it occurs, your absence will certainly be discovered, and a search for you will be at once begun. It will take a little while for them to ascertain that you are nowhere concealed in the town, but when that has been determined they will at once think of the river, and a party will be despatched in pursuit; therefore it is imperative that we should secure as long a start as possible." "Of course," answered I, as I laid hold of the light craft and ran her afloat; "I quite understand that. But, Ama, you speak of `we,' as though you intended to accompany me. That must not be, my dear girl; you have already done nobly in freeing me, and in providing me with the means of flight, and I must now do the best I can for myself; I cannot consent to implicate you by permitting you to accompany me. Therefore let me now bid you adieu, with my warmest and most grateful thanks, not only for what you have done for me to-night, but also for the friendship which you have shown me from the moment when I first came to know you. Now, hasten back to your own quarters as quickly as possible, I pray you; I think you can be trusted to find your way back to them without permitting your share in this night's doings to be discovered. Farewell, dear Ama, and may God bless and keep you! I shall never forget you, or your goodness to me. Good-bye!" And, in the fulness of my gratitude, I took her in my arms and kissed her. For a moment the gentle girl resigned herself to my embrace; then, freeing herself, she said, "Thank you, Dick, for thinking of my safety at such a moment, dear, but I cannot return; I _must_ go with you, not only for your own sake but for mine also. You do not understand the ways of my people, as I do, and therefore without my help you could never make good your escape. As for me, my father knows that there is only one person--myself--who would dare to do what I have done for you to-night; and even were I to succeed in returning to my own quarters undetected--which is exceedingly doubtful--his anger at your loss will be so great that he would assuredly condemn me to take your place at the stake. Therefore, Dick," she concluded pleadingly, "I must either go with you, or undergo the tortures that were destined for you." "But surely,"--I protested, and was about to argue that, she being her father's favourite daughter, he would never be so inhuman as to sacrifice her to his anger, when a sound of distant shouting came faintly to our ears. "Hark!" exclaimed Ama, "do you hear that, Dick? It means that your absence has been discovered, and that the hunt for you has already begun. We must not waste another moment. Will you take me with you; or must I go back to face a cruel and lingering death?" "Not the last, certainly," answered I. "Jump in, little one, and let us be off without further parley." Giving her my hand to steady her in entering the crank little craft, I waited until she had seated herself aft and taken the steering paddle in her hand, then, with a powerful push that sent the canoe, stern-first, far out into the rapidly flowing stream, I sprang in over the bows, seized a paddle, and proceeded to force the craft off-shore into the strength of the current. CHAPTER NINETEEN. THE TRAGIC DEATH OF AMA. We now had leisure to observe that the storm had so far passed away that there were big breaks in the canopy of cloud overhead and away to the eastward, through which the stars were beginning to show themselves, affording enough light just to enable us to discern the two banks of the stream, but not sufficient to betray our presence to an observer at a greater distance than, say, a quarter of a mile. There was therefore not much fear of our immediate discovery, since I now learned from Ama that our starting-point was at least three-quarters of a mile below the town, while, apart from our own exertions, the swollen current was sweeping us along at a speed of about six knots. In little more than ten minutes from the moment of starting we swept out of the tributary stream into the main river, the current of which was also flowing pretty rapidly, though not, of course, so swiftly as that of the lesser stream; and now, as we pushed off into mid-channel, we found time to exchange a few remarks. For my own part I was anxious to know what had first suggested to my companion the idea of effecting my rescue, and by what means, after she had conceived the idea, she had contrived to carry her plans to a successful issue. I put the question to her; and by way of reply she related to me the following story: "From the moment when I first became aware of my father's illness I was not entirely free from suspicion; and when at length I saw that your efforts to cure him were only partially successful, and that his symptoms persistently recurred, I was convinced that there was foul play somewhere, though why, I could not at first imagine. But when Gouroo whispered to my father, hinting at your incapacity, and suggesting that Mafuta should be sent for, my suspicions began to take definite shape, and, although I was not able to verify those suspicions, I finally made up my mind that the whole occurrence was the outcome of a plot between Gouroo and Mafuta--your only enemies--to ruin you. And these suspicions were confirmed when, after you had been carried away and imprisoned, my father began to mend, even before the arrival of Mafuta upon the scene, while it seemed extraordinary to me that the witch-doctor should know so well the character of my father's ailment, that he was able to bring with him precisely the right remedies for administration. "Now, as I told you just now, Dick, I was quite unable to verify my suspicions, but in my own mind I have not the slightest doubt that Mafuta gave Gouroo poison of some kind to administer to my father and make him ill, knowing that you would be summoned to cure him, and knowing, too, that your failure to cure would result in your condemnation to a death by torture. I tried to intercede for you, not once but many times; but my father had suffered horribly, and had been terribly frightened. He believed that, but for Gouroo's suggestion, you would have allowed him to die; and he refused to show you any mercy. Your fate seemed sealed--unless I could contrive a scheme to save you; but I could think of nothing; and the anticipation of your death made me feel so utterly wretched, that at last I entreated my father that, if he would not spare you, he would at least not compel me to witness your sufferings. He was still dreadfully angry with me for interceding in your behalf, but I persisted; and at length he told me that if I did not wish to witness the Customs I might remain at home, and of course I did so, although I knew that you were not to suffer until to-morrow. I spent all my time trying to devise some plan for effecting your deliverance, but could think of none; nevertheless, as soon as everybody was in the square and the Customs had begun, I went down to the river, got my canoe ready, and paddled it down to the place where we found it to-night. And it was while I was returning, and searching for a way to pass inside the palisade without entering by the gate, that I first saw the storm working up, and I knew that if it delayed its coming long enough I might be able to save you. As it happened, circumstances could scarcely have arranged themselves more favourably; and the result is that I have now the happiness to have you here with me in safety. Now, Dick, we must push on as fast as we can, travelling all through the night, and concealing ourselves and resting during the day; for if we are to escape it must be by stratagem, and not by strength, or speed." "Yes," said I; "I can quite understand that if they should take it into their heads to pursue us--as you seem to think they will--we should have small chance of running away from one of your big canoes, manned by forty or fifty paddlers. But where do you propose to take me, Ama?" "Where do you wish to go, Dick?" demanded my companion, answering one question with another. "Why," replied I, "of course I am anxious to get down to the coast again, and aboard a ship. But I am puzzled to know what is to become of you when we part." "_Must_ we part, Dick?" murmured Ama softly. "Cannot I always remain with you?" "Quite impossible, my dear girl," answered I hastily, beginning at last to have some faint suspicion of what was in this savage beauty's unsophisticated mind. "I owe a duty to my King; and that duty imperatively demands that I shall return at once to the ship in which I am serving him--and where, Ama, I may mention, no place could possibly be found for you. But I do not forget that you have saved my life, Ama; and therefore, come what will, I will not leave you until you have formed some definite plan for your own safety and happiness. What did you think of doing when the time comes for us to part?" The girl was silent so long that I was obliged to repeat my question before I could get an answer, and when at length she replied, I feared I could detect tears in her voice, and could have execrated myself for a stony-hearted wretch. "I have never looked so far forward as that," she answered in quavering tones; "but we need not think of that yet, Dick. When the time comes I have no doubt that I shall know what to do. And now, we really _must_ cease talking, and push on as fast as we can, or we shall not reach our place of concealment before the dawn comes to reveal our whereabouts to our pursuers." I was not sorry to have the conversation closed, for I wanted a little time for reflection. It was clear to me that this unsophisticated young savage had been dominated in her actions by one idea alone, that of saving me from a death of unspeakable horror; she knew that, in so doing, she was cutting herself off for ever from her own people, to whom it would be impossible for her to return; and, in her absolute simplicity, she had evidently thought that it would be the easiest thing in the world for her to throw in her lot with mine. How was I to undeceive her; how make her understand the absolute impossibility of such a thing? I greatly feared that to convince her of this would be wholly beyond my power. Yet what was to become of her? I could not abandon her, alone and unprotected, to her fate; nor could I take her with me. The problem seemed absolutely insoluble; and at length I came to the conclusion that the only thing to be done was to leave the issue to destiny. Hour after hour we paddled on in absolute silence, making excellent progress, for the current was running strong in our favour; and at length, just as the eastern horizon was beginning to pale with the first hint of dawn, Ama gave the canoe a sheer in toward the eastern bank, looking anxiously about her as she did so. She was not long in discovering the landmarks of which she was in search, and a few minutes later the canoe was threading its tortuous way among a tangled mass of mangrove roots toward the solid bank of the river, landing upon which, we drew our light craft bodily up out of the water, concealing her beneath a broad overhanging mass of foliage which hid her so effectually that I would defy anybody but ourselves to find her. Then, taking a bow and quiver of arrows, together with a brace of spears, out of the canoe, and signing to me to do the same, Ama led the way through the dense growth bordering the river bank, until we reached an open grassy space of about twenty acres, sparsely dotted here and there with magnificent trees; and here Ama signified that we were to camp for the day. She further mentioned that, as she felt sure her father would have despatched a party in pursuit of us, which, she expected, would by this time be, not far behind us, it would be very desirable to keep a watch for them, since it was important that we should know as much as possible of their movements; and she accordingly suggested that I should climb a particularly lofty tree which she indicated, and keep a look-out for them, while she went off into the forest to seek the wherewithal to furnish a breakfast. She was very quiet and subdued in her manner, and I greatly feared that she was feeling deeply mortified and hurt because I had pointed out the impossibility of her remaining with me after our arrival at the coast--should we be so fortunate as to get there. As Ama, taking her bow and arrows, tripped lightly away toward the forest, I proceeded to shin up the tree, and presently, after some labour, found myself among its topmost branches, which towered high above those of all the other trees in the neighbourhood, and--it being by this time broad daylight--obtained a magnificent view of the surrounding country, extending for, as I estimated, some forty miles toward the south and east, while toward the north and west the view was shut off by high hills, through which the river wound its way. To my surprise I found that our camping-place was much nearer the river than I had supposed, and I was thus able to obtain a clear and unobstructed view of its surface for many miles north and south, except a width of a few yards on its eastern side, which was shut off by the mangroves and low scrub which grew along its margin. I most carefully searched the shining bosom of the stream for signs of our expected pursuers, but saw none; nor had they hove in sight when, about half an hour later, Ama returned with some seven or eight wood-pigeons which she had brought down with her arrows. She did not call to me, or announce her return in any way, but set to work to mow a circle of about ten feet in diameter in the long grass; and then, having produced fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together, she proceeded very carefully to burn off the short grass left inside the circle, setting fire to it, allowing it to burn for a few seconds, and then beating it out again with a branch, in order that the fire might not spread and burn us out, to say nothing of betraying our presence by the smoke that it would raise. Then, when she had at length cleared a sufficient space she lighted her cooking fire, taking care to use only dry wood, and thus make but little smoke, after which she proceeded to the margin of the river and brought back a large lump of damp clay, pieces of which she broke off and completely encased the birds in, and this she did with considerable care, I noticed. When she had completed her task, she consigned the whole to the fire, placing the shapeless lumps in the centre of the glowing embers, and piling more dry wood on the top, so as to maintain a brisk blaze. In about half an hour the lumps of clay, baked hard by the heat, began to crack and break open, when Ama carefully raked them out of the embers and set them aside. Then, and not until then, did she hail me, asking whether the expected pursuers were in sight; and upon my replying in the negative, she informed me that breakfast was ready, and invited me to come down and partake of it. I felt somewhat curious to see how Ama's primitive style of cooking would turn out; but it was all right. We simply broke open the lumps of baked clay with our spears and took out the birds--minus the skin and feathers, which adhered to the clay--and, splitting them open, removed the interior organs and devoured the flesh, which I found done to a turn, and particularly rich and juicy in flavour. Then, after we had finished eating, Ama again disappeared, to return shortly afterward with four fine cocoa-nuts, which we opened with our spear-heads and drank. "Now, Dick," said Ama, when we had finished our meal, "you need rest badly, and must have it; therefore compose yourself to sleep near the fire, where I can watch over you; and I will take your place in the tree and look out for our pursuers. They will be sure to be along very soon now; and it is important that I should see upon what plan they are conducting their search for us. I want them to get well ahead of us before we resume our journey to-night." "Yes," said I, "that is all very well, Ama. But what about yourself? You need rest fully as much as I do--" "No, I do not," she retorted. "I took plenty of rest yesterday, in anticipation; while you were exposed all day to the scorching sun and the flies, and have been awake all night. So please lie down and sleep; for in any case I must watch the river until our pursuers appear. I promise you that when they have passed, and I have seen all that I can of them, I will come down and sleep too." I attempted to dissuade her from this resolution; but she was in an obstinate mood, and would not be dissuaded; recognising which, at length, I gave in; for it was true that I needed rest. Accordingly, flinging myself down in the long grass, I fell, almost instantly, into a deep sleep. It must have been about four o'clock in the afternoon, judging from the position of the sun, when I awoke to find Ama crouching over the fire, busily preparing another meal which--even as I rose and stretched myself luxuriously, feeling immeasurably refreshed and invigorated by my long sleep--she pronounced ready. As we sat down to partake, of it together, Ama informed me that one of her father's largest canoes, manned by forty paddlers, and commanded by a chief whom she had recognised, had passed slowly down the river about an hour after I had composed myself to rest, the chief in charge intently scrutinising both banks, as they went, evidently in search of some indication of our presence, and had finally passed out of sight to the southward; after which Ama had descended and taken a few hours' rest. She further stated that, upon awaking, she had again gone aloft to take another long and careful look round, but had seen nothing more of our pursuers, and was therefore inclined to believe that we were now reasonably safe, provided, of course, that we did all our travelling at night, kept a sharp look-out, and were careful not to allow ourselves to be fallen in with by other users of the river. The supply of food which Ama had provided for our afternoon meal was so bountiful that, when we had finished, enough remained to furnish us with a good substantial meal about the middle of the night. Our wants for the next few hours were consequently supplied, we had therefore no need to do anything further than just to wait for nightfall and then resume our voyage; which we did, passing the intervening time in chatting together and discussing the various precautions which we must take in order to elude our pursuers, who, by the way, were now several miles ahead of us. We remained where we were until close upon sunset, when I again climbed our look-out tree and carefully scanned the whole surface of the river, as far as the eye could reach. There was nothing of an alarming character in sight, and therefore, as soon as I had descended to the ground, we both set out for the spot where we had hidden our canoe, launched her, and made our way out through the labyrinth of mangrove roots to the margin of the river, where we lay _perdu_ until the darkness had completely fallen, when we boldly pushed off into the strength of the current, and steadily pursued our way. I soon found that travelling down-stream, with the current in our favour, was a very different matter from travelling up-stream against it; and within the next twenty-four hours I was able to estimate that we were now proceeding about three times as rapidly as was the case when I was making the upward journey. I calculated, therefore, that a full week ought to suffice us to reach the sea. And then what was to become of poor Ama, my gentle and loving companion? Alas, destiny was soon to answer that question, and most tragically, too, had we but known it. Thanks to Ama's foresight and admirable judgment, our progress down the river was uneventful. We travelled during the night, resting and refreshing ourselves during the day, and never again saw a sign of our pursuers, nor indeed of anybody else, for our journey was begun when the moon was past her third quarter, and rose late; and Ama explained that the natives of that region never travelled through the darkness, if they could possibly avoid it. It was on the sixth day of our journey that, having landed as usual at the first sign of dawn, we were resting in a secluded and shady spot after having partaken of an excellent and substantial breakfast. I had been sound asleep for some hours, for the sun was well past the meridian, when I was startled into sudden and complete wakefulness, and sprang up with the sensation that I had heard Ama screaming and calling upon me for help. I glanced at the spot where she had lain, a short distance from me. She was not there; and I at once concluded that, having awakened before me, she had gone off into the forest to obtain the wherewithal for our mid- day meal. I listened intently, but the silence of noontide had fallen, and everything was deathly still; there was not the faintest zephyr to stir the foliage; and even the very insects that so persistently attack one in the African jungle seemed to be indulging in a mid-day siesta. Yet I could not divest my mind of the conviction that my abrupt awakening had been caused by a cry for help from Ama having reached my ears; and, seizing my weapons, I set out in search of her. The "form" in the grass where she had lain was plain enough to the sight, as also were her tracks in the direction of the forest, and these I followed for some distance without much difficulty, coming out at length into an open glade, through which a tiny streamlet made its way. And here, among an outcrop of immense granite rocks, I came upon the signs of a tragedy. The long grass was disturbed and beaten down, as though a desperate struggle had taken place; the ground was smeared and splashed with blood; and in the midst of it lay one of Ama's spears, and the broken shaft of the other. And, leading away from this, there was a broad, blood-stained trail, as though a body had been dragged along through the grass and over some rocky ground, further on, toward another and much bigger outcrop of rock. It was not difficult to read the signs: Ama, intent upon her hunting, had been surprised and overpowered by some ferocious beast; and now all that remained was for me to follow and rescue the unfortunate girl, or avenge her death. I accordingly fitted to my bow the stoutest arrow in my quiver, and dashed forward in a fury of rage and grief, absolutely reckless of consequences to myself, and animated by but one impulse--the determination to slay the beast, whatever it might be, that had wrought this evil to my faithful and gentle companion. For a hundred yards or more the trail led over uneven rocky ground toward an immense rock, upon rounding which I found myself face to face with, and within half-a-dozen yards of, a splendid full-grown male leopard who was crouching over poor Ama's motionless body, snarling savagely as he strove with his claws to remove a broken spear, the head of which was buried deep in his neck. As I rounded the rock and came in sight of him he rose to his feet, with his two front paws on Ama's body, and bared his great fangs at me in a hideous grin, as he gave utterance to a snarling growl that might well have struck terror to the boldest. But my heart was so full of rage and grief at the dreadful sight before me that there was no room in it for any other emotion, and, halting short in my tracks, I gazed the brute steadfastly in the eye, as I slowly raised my bow and drew the arrow to its head. Never in my life had I felt more deadly cool and self-possessed than I did then as I aimed steadily at the animal's right eye; I felt that I _could not_ miss; nor did I; for while we thus stood motionlessly staring at each other, I released the string, and the next instant the great lithe beast sprang convulsively into the air, with the butt of my arrow protruding from his eye and the point buried deep in his brain. As he fell back, and struggled writhing upon the ground, moaning horribly for a few seconds ere his great limbs straightened out in death, I dashed forward, and, seizing poor Ama's body, drew it out of reach of the beast's claws. But a single glance sufficed to show me that the unfortunate girl was beyond the reach of further hurt. Yes, she was quite dead, this gentle, faithful, savage girl who, in return for a comparatively slight service, had unhesitatingly abandoned home, kindred, everything, to save me from a cruel and lingering death; and now the only thing that I could do to show my gratitude was to make sure that no further violence should be offered to her remains. My first impulse was to carry the body down to where the soil was softer, and there dig a grave for it; but while I was considering this plan, it occurred to me that, with no more efficient tool than a spear to serve as a shovel, it would be practically impossible for me to bury the body deep enough to protect it from the jackals and hyaenas; and I therefore determined that, instead of burying it, I would burn it. There was an abundance of fallen boughs and twigs in the adjacent jungle to enable me to build a funeral pyre; and I should have the melancholy satisfaction of actually watching the reduction of the body to impalpable ashes. I therefore took all that remained of poor Ama in my arms and carried it to the top of a bare rocky plateau close at hand, upon which I intended to build my pyre, and then diligently set to work to collect the necessary wood. It took me the remainder of the day to collect as much dry and combustible material as I considered would be needful to accomplish the complete incineration of the body, and to build the pyre; but it was done at last; and then, once more raising the corpse in my arms, I gently placed it on the top. Then, making fire, as I had seen Ama do, by rubbing two pieces of wood together, I ignited a torch and thrust it deep into the heart of the pyre, through an opening which I had left for the purpose. The dry leaves and grass which I had arranged as kindling material instantly caught fire, and in a few minutes the flames were darting fiercely upward through the interstices, and wreathing themselves about the corpse. Then, placing myself to windward, clear of the smoke, I knelt down on the hard rock and--I am not ashamed to admit it--prayed earnestly that God would have mercy upon the soul of the simple, unsophisticated, savage maiden who had lost her life while helping me to save my own. I was doing a most imprudent thing to linger by the side of the pyre, for the smoke, in the first place, and the light of the flames when it fell dark, could scarcely have failed to attract to the spot any savages who might have been in the neighbourhood, when my plight would probably have been as bad as ever; but at that moment my sorrow at the loss of my companion overcame every other feeling, and, for the moment at least, I was quite indifferent as to what befell me. As it happened, no one came near me, and I remained, unmolested, watching the fire until it had burnt itself out, leaving no trace of the body that had been consumed. Meanwhile, since I was almost naked, and was hoping soon to find myself once more among civilised people, it occurred to me that the skin of the leopard which had wrought this dire tragedy might be of use to me as material out of which to fashion some sort of a garment; and, therefore, while the flames of the pyre were still blazing brilliantly I utilised their light to enable me to strip the pelt off the great carcase. When the fire had entirely died down, and I had satisfied myself that there was nothing left of poor Ama to be desecrated by fang of beast or beak of bird, I sorrowfully retired from the fatal spot, carrying the leopard's skin with me, and making my way with some difficulty to the place where the canoe lay concealed, sprang in and shoved off. Four days later I arrived at the mouth of the river, without further adventure, and was fortunate enough to find a fine slashing brigantine flying French colours riding at anchor there. It did not need a second look at her to tell me that she was a slaver; but beggars must not be choosers. I could not afford to wait about for the arrival of a more honest craft, at the risk of being again seized and carried off by the natives, and therefore, putting a bold face upon it, I paddled alongside and, with my leopard-skin wrapped round me petticoat-fashion, climbed up the side and inquired for the skipper. It appeared that he was ashore at the moment making arrangements for the shipment of a cargo of slaves on the next day; but the chief mate was aboard, and upon representing myself to him as a shipwrecked Englishman who had been carried away captive into the interior, and had just effected my escape, he gave me permission to remain, saying that he had no doubt Captain Duquesne would receive me if I were willing to work my passage to Martinique. This was not at all what I wanted; but even Martinique was better than King Banda's town, and I therefore consented. Some hours later the captain returned, and upon my repeating to him the yarn which I had spun to the mate he not only very readily consented to my working my passage, but also offered me two excellent suits of clothes, two shirts, two pairs of stockings, a pair of shoes, and a worsted cap in exchange for my leopard-skin, which offer I gladly accepted; and that night found me domiciled in the forecastle of _L'Esperance_ as one of her crew. My companions, although a sufficiently lawless lot, were nevertheless genial enough among themselves, and--let me do them justice--made me heartily welcome among them. Naturally enough, having heard that I had been a captive among the savages, they insisted upon my relating to them my adventures; and this inaugurated an evening of yarn-spinning in the forecastle, the incidents related having reference for the most part to the slave-trade. There was one grizzled old scoundrel, in particular, nicknamed--appropriately enough, no doubt--"Red Hand," who was full of reminiscence and anecdote; and by-and-by, when the grog had been circulating for some time, he made mention of the names _Virginia_ and _Preciosa_, at which I pricked up my ears; for I remembered at once that those were the names of the two slavers that our own and the American Government were so anxious to lay by the heels, and which had hitherto baffled all our efforts and laughed at our most carefully laid plans. Not altogether to my surprise, I now learned that the _Virginia_ and the _Preciosa_ were one and the same craft, manned by two complete crews-- one American and one Spanish--and furnished with duplicate sets of papers. Thus, if by any chance she happened to be overhauled by a British ship, she hoisted American colours, her American skipper, officers, and crew showed themselves, and her American set of papers was produced, the result being that she went free, although she might have a full cargo of slaves on board--for the British were not authorised to interfere with American slavers. And, in like manner, if an American cruiser happened to fall in with her, she showed Spanish colours, mustered her Spanish crew on deck, and produced her Spanish papers for inspection if she were boarded, there being no treaty between America and Spain for the suppression of slavery. What she did if she happened to encounter a French cruiser I did not learn; apparently such an accident had not yet happened, she being a remarkably fast sailer while the French cruisers were notoriously slow-coaches. This was a most valuable piece of information for me to get hold of, and I carefully laid it away in the storehouse of my memory for use when occasion should serve. On the following morning we began to ship our cargo of slaves--three hundred and forty of them; and that same night, about an hour before sunset, we weighed and stood out to sea, securing a good offing by means of the land-breeze which sprang up later on, and finally bore away for Cape Palmas. As it happened, the weather was light and fine, and our progress was consequently slow, Cape Palmas not being sighted until our sixth day out. Here Captain Duquesne secured an excellent departure by means of three carefully taken bearings of the cape, observed at intervals of two hours, by means of which he was able to establish our position on the chart with the utmost accuracy; and, this done, we held on a westerly course, the skipper's intention being not to haul up to the northward until he had arrived at the meridian of 20° west longitude, lest he should fall in with any of the cruisers of the Slave Squadron. But, as luck would have it, the weather fell still lighter at sunset on our ninth day out; and on the following morning at daybreak we found ourselves becalmed within three miles of a British cruiser, which promptly lowered her boats and despatched them to overhaul us; and by breakfast-time I had the pleasure of finding myself once more under the British flag, our captor proving to be the corvette _Cleopatra_, by the captain and officers of which I was most kindly received when I had related to them my strange story. The prize was promptly provided with a prize crew and sent into Sierra Leone in command of the third lieutenant, and I was given a passage in her. Four days later we arrived at our destination; and, to my great joy, among the vessels at anchor in the harbour I recognised the _Eros_. I pointed her out to the prize master; and he, good-hearted fellow that he was, kindly let me have a boat to go on board her as soon as our own anchor was down. CHAPTER TWENTY. OUR CROWNING EXPLOIT. "Come on board, sir," remarked I, touching my cap as I passed in through the gangway of the _Eros_ and found myself face to face with Captain Perry and the master, who were walking the quarter-deck side by side and conversing earnestly, while the first lieutenant, from the break of the poop, was carrying on the work of the ship. "Good heavens!" exclaimed the skipper, stopping short and staring at me as though he had seen a ghost--"is it possible? It can't be--and yet, by Jove, it _is_--Mr Fortescue! Welcome back to the _Eros_, Mr Fortescue; I am delighted to see you again. But where on earth have you sprung from? From that fine brigantine that has just come in, I imagine, since I see that the boat which brought you is returning to her; but I mean before that. You look as though you have been having a pretty rough time of it lately. And what of the _Dolphin_ and her crew? We gave you all up for lost, long ago." "And with good reason, sir," I answered. "She foundered in a hurricane in mid-Atlantic; and I have only too much reason to fear that I alone have survived to tell the tale." "Ah," said the skipper, "that is bad news indeed; but the fact that you never turned up at our rendez-vous, and that no intelligence could be gained of you, has prepared us for it. Well, Mr Fortescue, I am afraid I am too busy to listen to your story just now; you must therefore dine with me and the officers of the ship to-day, and then spin us your yarn. Meanwhile, since you seem to have returned to us flying light, without any `dunnage,' I would recommend you to get hold of the ship's tailor and see what he can do for you in the matter of knocking you up a uniform. For the rest, you may take a boat and go ashore to replenish your wardrobe, which you had better do at once, for we go to sea again to-morrow. I have no doubt the purser will be able to let you have such funds as you need. Now, run along and renew your acquaintance with your shipmates; I see Mr Copplestone and one or two more glancing rather impatiently this way, as though they were anxious to have a word or two with you." Touching my cap, I slipped up on to the poop, as in duty bound, to report myself to the first lieutenant, who gave me as hearty a welcome as the skipper had done, and then joined Copplestone, the surgeon, and one or two others who were obviously waiting to have a word with me, and retired with them to the gunroom, where my return was celebrated in due form. Of course they were all exceedingly anxious to hear the story of what had befallen me since the _Dolphin_ and the _Eros_ had parted company; but I steadfastly refused to tell them anything beyond the bare fact that the _Dolphin_ had gone down with all hands, explaining that the skipper had invited me to dine with him that day, and that they would learn all particulars then, as I gathered that it was his intention to invite them all to meet me. Then, having had a satisfactory interview with the tailor and the purser, I went ashore and laid in a stock of linen, etcetera, together with a chest, all of which I brought off with me. As I had quite anticipated, the captain invited everybody to meet me at dinner that day, even to Copplestone and Parkinson, who were now the sole occupants of the midshipmen's berth. And very attentively everybody listened to the story, as I told it in detail, of how, after parting from the _Eros_, we had carried on in the hope of overtaking the _Virginia_; of how we had been caught in and overwhelmed by the hurricane; of how I came to go adrift, alone, in the longboat; of how I had been run down by _La Mouette_, and of my treatment on board her; of my adventures in King Banda's town, and my escape therefrom with the aid of poor Ama; of the death of the latter--at which all hands expressed their sincere regret; and, finally, of how I had reached _L'Esperance_, and the extraordinary story I had heard while aboard her. It is not to be supposed that I was allowed to spin my yarn without interruption; on the contrary, I was bombarded with a continuous fire of questions for the elucidation of points that I had failed to make quite clear; and when I had finished the captain was pleased to express himself as perfectly satisfied with all that I had done, and that the loss of the _Dolphin_ was due to causes entirely beyond my control. Regret was expressed for the loss of Tasker and Keene, both of whom were highly esteemed by all their shipmates; and then the conversation diverged to the topic of the audacious _Virginia-Preciosa_, which, protected by the very ingenious fraud of the double sets of papers and the double crews, was still merrily pursuing her way and bidding defiance to everybody. "Ah!" ejaculated the skipper, with a deep sigh of satisfaction; "thanks to your friend Red Hand's garrulity in his cups, Mr Fortescue, we shall now know how to deal with that precious craft. We go to sea to-morrow, and it shall be our business, gentlemen, to bring her to book; and a fine feather in our caps it will be if we should be successful." The first thing after breakfast, on the following morning, Captain Perry went ashore, remaining there until close upon eight bells in the afternoon watch; and when at length he came off, he looked uncommonly pleased with himself. I saw him talking animatedly with the first lieutenant for some time, and then he beckoned to me. "I suppose, Mr Fortescue," he said, when I joined him, "you will not have very much difficulty in identifying the _Virginia_ should we be lucky enough to fall in with her?" "None at all, sir," answered I. "I believe I should be able to identify her as far as I could see her. I boarded her, you will remember, and I took full advantage of the opportunity to use my eyes. Oh, yes, I shall know her if ever I clap eyes on her again." "Which will be before very long, I hope," answered the skipper. "For by a most lucky chance I have to-day obtained what I believe to be trustworthy information to the effect that she was sighted four days ago, bound for the Gaboon river--or perhaps it would be more correct to say that she was sighted steering east, and identified by the master of a brig who knows her perfectly well, and who has since arrived here, and that there is authentic information to the effect that she is this time bound for the Gaboon." "In that case, sir," said I, "there ought not to be very much difficulty in falling in with her when she comes out." "That is what I think," returned the skipper. "Are we quite ready to go to sea, Mr Hoskins?" "Absolutely, sir, at a moment's notice," answered Hoskins. "Very well, then, we will weigh as soon as the land-breeze springs up," said the skipper. And weigh we did, a little after seven o'clock that evening, securing a good offing, and clearing the shoals of Saint Ann by daybreak the next morning. We knew that it was customary for the slavers coming out of the Gulf of Guinea to endeavour to sight Cape Palmas, in order that they might obtain a good "departure" for the run across the Atlantic, also because they might usually reckon upon picking up the Trades somewhere in that neighbourhood. The skipper therefore carefully laid down upon his chart the supposititious course of the _Virginia_ from the Gaboon to Cape Palmas, and thence onward to the Caribbean Sea; and then shaped a course to enable us to fall in with her on the latter, at a spot about one hundred miles to the westward of Palmas. Having reached this spot, we shortened sail to our three topsails, spanker, and jib, and slowly worked to windward along that course, tacking every two hours until we had worked up to within sight of the cape, and then bearing up and running off to leeward for a distance of one hundred miles again, keeping a hand aloft on the main-royal yard as look-out from dawn to dark. It was weary, anxious work; for of course our movements were being regulated by a theory that, for aught we knew to the contrary, might be all wrong; and as day succeeded day without bringing the expected sail within our ken there were not wanting among us those who denounced the skipper's plan as foolish, and argued that the proper thing would have been to go direct to the Gaboon, and look there for the _Virginia_. But Captain Perry, having carefully thought the whole thing out, stuck to his guns, refusing to budge an inch from his original arrangement, in response to the hints and insinuations of those who disagreed with him. And the result proved the soundness of his theory, for on the sixteenth day of our quest, about seven bells in the afternoon watch, the look-out hailed the deck with: "Large sail two points abaft the weather beam, steerin' to the west'ard under stunsails!" "How far away is she?" hailed the skipper. "Her r'yals is just showin' above the horizon, sir," answered the man. "Ah! that means that she is about twenty miles distant," remarked the skipper to me--I being officer of the watch. "Too far off for identification purposes, eh, Mr Fortescue?" "Well, sir," answered I, "it is a longish stretch, I admit. Yet, with your permission, I will get my glass, go aloft, and have a look at her." "Thank you, Mr Fortescue. Pray do so, by all means," returned the skipper. Hurrying below for my own private telescope, which was an exceptionally fine instrument, I slung it over my shoulder and wended my way aloft to the main-royal yard. "Whereabout is she, Dixon?" I asked, as I swung myself up on the yard beside him. "Ah, there she is; I see her. Mind yourself a bit and let me have a peep at her." The man swung off the yard and slid down as far as the cross-trees, while I unslung my glass and brought it to bear upon the stranger. The rarefaction of the air bothered me a good deal, producing something of the effect of a mirage, and causing the royals of the distant vessel to stand up clear of the horizon as though there were nothing beneath them; yet, as she rose and fell with the 'scend of the sea, shapeless snow- white blotches appeared and vanished again beneath them occasionally. She was coming along very fast, however; and presently, when she took a rather broad sheer, I caught a momentary glimpse of _two_ royals and just the head of a third--the mizzen--proving conclusively that she was full-rigged--as was the _Virginia_. But, as the skipper had surmised, she was still much too far off for identification. I thought rapidly, and an idea occurred to me which caused me to close my glass, re-sling it, and slide down to the cross-trees. "Up you go again, Dixon, and keep your eye on that vessel, reporting any noticeable thing about her that may happen to catch your eye," said I. And swinging myself on to the topgallant backstay, I slid rapidly down to the deck. "Well, Mr Fortescue, what do you make of her?" demanded the skipper, as I rejoined him. "She is a full-rigged ship, sir," said I; "but, as you anticipated, she is still too far off for identification. But she is steering the course that we have decided the _Virginia_ ought to be steering; and it has just occurred to me that, should she indeed be that craft, she may give us a great deal of trouble if she discovers us prematurely, seeing that she is to windward. I would therefore suggest, sir, that we bear up and make sail, so as to keep ahead of her until dark, and then--" "Yes, I see what you mean, Mr Fortescue," interrupted the skipper; "and doubtless there are many cases where the plan would be very commendable; but in this case I think it would be better to close with her while it is still daylight and we can see exactly what we--and they--are doing. Therefore be good enough to make sail at once, if you please." "Ay, ay, sir," answered I. "Hands make sail. Away aloft and loose the royals and topgallantsails. Lay out and loose the flying-jib. Board your fore and main tacks!" In a moment all was bustle; the watch below tumbled up to lend a hand without waiting to be called; and in five minutes the noble ship was clothed with canvas from her trucks down, and shearing through the deep blue water with her lee channels buried. "Now, Mr Fortescue," said the skipper, "we will 'bout ship, if you please." We tacked, accordingly; and as soon as we were fairly round and full again the skipper hailed the royal yard to know how the chase bore. The answer was, "A point and a half on the weather bow!" "Just so!" commented the skipper. "We will keep on as we are going until she bears dead ahead, and then we will edge away after her." Presently eight bells struck, and Hoskins came up to relieve me, whereupon I made another journey aloft, to the fore-topmast cross-trees this time. We were raising her very fast now that both ships were steering upon converging lines; I could already see nearly to the foot of her topsails; and I settled myself comfortably, determined to remain where I was until I could absolutely identify her, although even at this time I had scarcely a shadow of a doubt that it was the long-sought _Virginia_, or rather the _Preciosa_, that I held in the field of my telescope. Another twenty minutes and she was hull-up from my point of observation, by which time there was no further room for doubt, and I descended to the deck to acquaint the captain with the success of his strategy. She was by this time dead ahead of us; and the skipper thereupon gave orders to bear away four points and set the larboard studdingsails; at the same time instructing the look-out to give us instant warning of any change in the stranger's course or amount of sail set. Both ships were now travelling very fast; and by the time that we had got our studdingsails set, the stranger was visible from our poop for about half-way down her topsails, and rising higher even as we watched. In a few minutes more we had lifted the heads of her courses above the horizon, still edging away and keeping her about four points on our port bow; and presently, as we watched her, we saw the Stars and Stripes go soaring up to her gaff-end. Not to be outdone in politeness, we hoisted our colours also; and for the next quarter of an hour the two craft continued to close, the chase stolidly maintaining her course, while we, under the skipper's skilful conning, continued to edge very gradually away, as the other vessel sped to leeward, checking our weather braces by a few inches at a time until our yards were all but square. At length, when we had brought the chase fairly hull-up it became apparent that, thanks to the pains taken by the skipper to improve our rate of sailing, the _Eros_ was now a trifle the faster vessel of the two; and that, consequently, nothing short of an accident could prevent us from getting alongside the chase. Still, at sea there is always the possibility of an accident, therefore as soon as we were near enough the captain gave orders to clear away the bow gun and pitch a shot across the fellow's forefoot, as a hint that we wanted to have a talk to him. This was done; but no notice was taken aboard the chase; the next shot therefore was let drive slap at her, care being taken to fire high, with the result that the shot passed through the head of her fore-topsail and only very narrowly missed the topmast-head. This seemed to rather shake the nerve of her skipper, for the next moment her studdingsails collapsed and came down altogether, regular man-o'-war fashion--showing her to be strongly manned; but instead of rounding-to and backing her main-yard, as we thought she intended, she braced sharp up on the port tack and endeavoured to escape to windward. But we were every whit as smart with our studdingsails as she was, and instantly hauled our wind after her, she being now about one point on our lee bow. For the next hour we held grimly on, firing no more meanwhile, but by the end of that time we had neared her sufficiently to risk another shot, which, aimed with the utmost care by the gunner himself, struck the main-topmast of the chase, sending everything above the main-yard over the side to leeward. This settled the matter, and the next moment the beautiful craft hove-to. "Mr Fortescue," said the skipper, "you know more about yonder vessel than any of the rest of us, therefore you shall take the second cutter, with her crew fully armed, and proceed on board to take possession." "Ay, ay, sir," answered I; and running down the poop ladder I gave the order for the boatswain to pipe the second cutter away while I went below to buckle on my sword and thrust a pair of pistols into my belt. By the time that the boat's crew were mustered, and the boat made ready for lowering, we were hove-to within biscuit-toss of the other vessel's weather quarter, and were able to read with the naked eye the words "Virginia, New Orleans," legibly painted across the turn of her counter. "D'ye see that, Mr Fortescue?" questioned the skipper, pointing to the inscription. "I hope there is no mistake as to the accuracy of your information; because, if there is, you know, we shall have got ourselves into a rather awkward mess by firing upon and winging that craft!" "Never fear, sir," answered I confidently; "I know the secret of that trick, as you shall see very shortly." "Very well," said he, "off you go. And as soon as you have secured possession let me know, and I will send the carpenter and a strong gang aboard to help you to clear away the wreck and get another topmast on end before it falls dark." Five minutes later I was alongside the prize, which, as on the occasion of my previous visit, I was compelled to board by way of the lee main chains, no side ladder having been put over for my accommodation. My Yankee friend and his mate were on the poop watching us, and I thought the former turned a trifle pale as he noted the strength of the crew that I had brought with me. "All hands out of the boat, and veer her away astern!" ordered I as we swept alongside; and the next moment I and my party were over the rail and on deck. I had already made my plans during the short passage of the boat between the two vessels; consequently the moment that we were all aboard young Copplestone, who had come with me, led a party of men forward to drive the slaver's crew below, while I, with a couple of sturdy seamen to back me up, ascended to the poop. "Look 'e hyar, young feller," began the Yankee skipper, as I set foot on the poop, "I wanter know what's the meanin' of this outrage. D'ye see that there flag up there? That's the galorious--" "Stars and Stripes," I cut in. "Yes; I recognise it. But I may as well tell you at once that I know this ship has no right to hoist those colours. She is the _Preciosa_, a slaver hailing from Havana, and sailing under Spanish colours; consequently she is the lawful prize of his Britannic Majesty's ship _Eros_; and I am here to take possession of her." I saw the man turn pale under his tan, and for a moment he was speechless, while his mate Silas whispered something in his ear. But he would not listen. Instead, he pushed the man roughly away, angrily exclaiming, "Hold yer silly tongue, ye blame fool!" Then, turning to me, he demanded: "Who's been makin' a fool of ye this time, stranger?" "Nobody," answered I curtly. "I acknowledge that you did the trick very handsomely when I boarded you on a former occasion; but there is going to be no fooling this time I assure you." "Well, I'll be goldarned!" exclaimed the man, suddenly recognising me. "If it ain't the young Britisher that--jigger my buttons if I didn't think I'd seen yer before, stranger. Well, you know, you've got to prove what you say afore you can do anything, haven't ye?" "Yes," I answered; "and if you will be good enough to hand me over your keys I will soon do so, to my own satisfaction if not to yours." "Very well," he said, producing the keys; "the game's up, I can see, so I s'pose it's no use kickin'. There's the keys, stranger. But I'd give a good deal to know who let ye into the secret." "No doubt," returned I, with a laugh. "Adams and Markham, just mount guard over these two men, and do not let them stir off the poop until I return." So saying, I descended the poop ladder and, entering the cabin, made my way to the skipper's state-room, and, opening a desk which I found there, soon discovered the genuine set of papers declaring the ship's name to be the _Preciosa_, her port of registry Havana, and her ownership Spanish. Her Spanish crew we soon found snugly hidden away in spacious quarters beneath the lazaret; and, as to the name on her stern, we found that the piece of wood on which it was carved and painted was reversible, having Virginia, New Orleans, carved on one side of it and Preciosa, Havana, on the other, and that it could be unbolted and reversed in a few minutes by lifting a couple of movable planks in the after cabin. I called a couple of hands into the cabin and had this done forthwith, much to the relief of Captain Perry, as I afterward learned. She had a full cargo, consisting of seven hundred and thirty negroes, all young males, on board; and as she was a remarkably fast and well-built ship she was a prize worth having, to say nothing of the credit that we should win by putting a stop to her vagaries. We transferred her double crew to the _Eros_, where they were carefully secured in the hold on top of the ballast, and, a strong prize crew being put on board by Captain Perry, we were not long in clearing away the wreck and putting everything back into place again, being ready to make sail by one bell in the first watch. Being a prize of such exceptional value, Captain Perry decided to accompany her in the _Eros_ to Sierra Leone, where we arrived without adventure five days later. In due course she was adjudicated upon and condemned by the Mixed Commission; but I did not remain at Sierra Leone for that to take place; for upon our arrival we found that a packet had come in from England a few days previously bringing letters for me, acquainting me with the sad news of my father's death and urging me to proceed home immediately to supervise the winding up of his affairs, and to assume the management of the very important property that he had left behind him. I therefore at once applied for leave, and, having obtained it, secured a passage in a merchant vessel that was on the point of sailing for Liverpool, where I duly arrived after an uneventful passage of twenty-seven days. I discovered, upon reaching home, that it would be quite impossible for me to manage my property and at the same time follow the sea; at my mother's earnest entreaty, therefore, I gave up the latter; and am now a portly grey-headed county squire, a J.P., M.F.H., and I know not what beside, to whom my experiences as a Middy of the Slave Squadron seem little more than a fevered dream. 
21748	----	Black Ivory, by R.M. Ballantyne. ________________________________________________________________________ Although the book's title Black Ivory denotes dealing in the slave trade it is not our heroes who are doing it. At the very first chapter there is a shipwreck, which leaves the son of the charterer of the sinking ship, and a seaman friend of his, alone on the east coast of Africa, where Arab and Portuguese slave traders were still carrying out their evil trade, despite the great efforts of patrolling British warships to limit it and free the unfortunates whom they found being carried away in the Arab dhows. Our heroes encountered a slave trader almost at the very spot where they come ashore, and thereby managed to get to Zanzibar in a British warship that had captured the trader's dhow in which our friends had hitched a lift. At Zanzibar they pick up some funds, and set forth on a journey into the interior. Here again they encounter the vile trade, but most of the story deals with other encounters of a more acceptable nature. This book will open your eyes to what really went on. At the time of writing slave-dealing on the west coast of Africa was, due to the efforts of the British, almost extinct, but this was not the case on the east coast. Your reviewer found it very moving. Makes a good audiobook, of about ten and a half hours duration. ________________________________________________________________________ BLACK IVORY, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE. In writing this book, my aim has been to give a true picture in outline of the Slave Trade as it exists at the present time on the east coast of Africa. In order to do this I have selected from the most trustworthy sources what I believe to be the most telling points of "the trade," and have woven these together into a tale, the warp of which is composed of thick cords of fact; the woof of slight lines of fiction, just sufficient to hold the fabric together. Exaggeration has easily been avoided, because--as Dr Livingstone says in regard to the slave-trade--"exaggeration is impossible." If the reader's taste should be offended by finding the tragic and comic elements in too close proximity I trust that he will bear in remembrance that "such is life," and that the writer who would be true to life must follow, not lead, nature. I have to acknowledge myself indebted to Dr Ryan, late Bishop of Mauritius; to the Rev. Charles New, interpreter to the Livingstone Search Expedition; to Edward Hutchinson, Esquire, Lay Secretary to the Church Missionary Society, and others, for kindly furnishing me with information in connexion with the slave trade. Besides examining the Parliamentary Blue-books which treat of this subject, I have read or consulted, among others, the various authoritative works to which reference is made in the foot-notes sprinkled throughout this book,--all of which works bear the strongest possible testimony to the fact that the horrible traffic in human beings is in all respects as bad at the present time on the east coast of Africa as it ever was on the west coast in the days of Wilberforce. I began my tale in the hope that I might produce something to interest the young (perchance, also, the old) in a most momentous cause,--the total abolition of the African slave-trade. I close it with the prayer that God may make it a tooth in the file which shall eventually cut the chains of slavery, and set the black man free. R.M. Ballantyne. 1873 CHAPTER ONE. SHOWS THAT A GOOD BEGINNING MAY SOMETIMES BE FOLLOWED BY A BAD ENDING. "Six feet water in the hold, sir!" That would not have been a pleasant announcement to the captain of the `Aurora' at any time, but its unpleasantness was vastly increased by the fact that it greeted him near the termination of what had been, up to that point of time, an exceedingly prosperous voyage. "Are you sure, Davis?" asked the captain; "try again." He gave the order under the influence of that feeling which is styled "hoping against hope," and himself accompanied the ship's carpenter to see it obeyed. "Six feet two inches," was the result of this investigation. The vessel, a large English brig, had sprung a leak, and was rolling heavily in a somewhat rough sea off the east coast of Africa. It was no consolation to her captain that the shores of the great continent were visible on his lee, because a tremendous surf roared along the whole line of coast, threatening destruction to any vessel that should venture to approach, and there was no harbour of refuge nigh. "She's sinking fast, Mr Seadrift," said the captain to a stout frank-looking youth of about twenty summers, who leant against the bulwarks and gazed wistfully at the land; "the carpenter cannot find the leak, and the rate at which the water is rising shows that she cannot float long." "What then do you propose to do?" inquired young Seadrift, with a troubled expression of countenance. "Abandon her," replied the captain. "Well, _you_ may do so, captain, but I shall not forsake my father's ship as long as she can float. Why not beach her somewhere on the coast? By so doing we might save part of the cargo, and, at all events, shall have done the utmost that lay in our power." "Look at the coast," returned the captain; "where would you beach her? No doubt there is smooth water inside the reef, but the channels through it, if there be any here, are so narrow that it would be almost certain death to make the attempt." The youth turned away without replying. He was sorely perplexed. Just before leaving England his father had said to him, "Harold, my boy, here's your chance for paying a visit to the land you've read and talked so much about, and wished so often to travel through. I have chartered a brig, and shall send her out to Zanzibar with a cargo of beads, cotton cloth, brass wire, and such like: what say you to go as supercargo? Of course you won't be able to follow in the steps of Livingstone or Mungo Park, but while the brig is at Zanzibar you will have an opportunity of running across the channel, the island being only a few miles from the main, and having a short run up-country to see the niggers, and perchance have a slap at a hippopotamus. I'll line your pockets, so that you won't lack the sinews of war, without which travel either at home or abroad is but sorry work, and I shall only expect you to give a good account of ship and cargo on your return.--Come, is it fixed?" Need we say that Harold leaped joyfully at the proposal? And now, here he was, called on to abandon the `Aurora' to her fate, as we have said, near the end of a prosperous voyage. No wonder that he was perplexed. The crew were fully aware of the state of matters. By the captain's orders they stood ready to lower the two largest boats, into which they had put much of their worldly goods and provisions as they could hold with safety. "Port, port your helm," said the captain to the man at the wheel. "Port it is, sir," replied the man at the wheel, who was one of those broad-shouldered, big-chested, loose-garmented, wide-trousered, bare-necked, free-and-easy, off-hand jovial tars who have done so much, in years gone by, to increase the wealth and prosperity of the British Empire, and who, although confessedly scarce, are considerately allowed to perish in hundreds annually on our shores for want of a little reasonable legislation. But cheer up, ye jolly tars! There is a glimmer of sunrise on your political horizon. It really does seem as if, in regard to you, there were at last "a good time coming." "Port, port," repeated the captain, with a glance at the compass and the sky. "Port it is, sir," again replied the jovial one. "Steady! Lower away the boat, lads.--Now, Mr Seadrift," said the captain, turning with an air of decision to the young supercargo, "the time has come for you to make up your mind. The water is rising in the hold, and the ship is, as you see, settling fast down. I need not say to you that it is with the utmost regret I find it necessary to abandon her; but self-preservation and the duty I owe to my men render the step absolutely necessary. Do you intend to go with us?" "No, captain, I don't," replied Harold Seadrift firmly. "I do not blame you for consulting your own safety, and doing what you believe to be your duty, but I have already said that I shall stick by the ship as long as she can float." "Well, sir, I regret it but you must do as you think best," replied the captain, turning away--"Now, lads, jump in." The men obeyed, but several of those who were last to quit the ship looked back and called to the free-and-easy man who still stood at the wheel--"Come along, Disco; we'll have to shove off directly." "Shove off w'en you please," replied the man at the wheel, in a deep rich voice, whose tones were indicative of a sort of good-humoured contempt; "wot I means for to do is to stop where I am. It'll never be said of Disco Lillihammer that he forsook the owner's son in distress." "But you'll go to the bottom, man, if you don't come." "Well, wot if I do? I'd raither go to the bottom with a brave man, than remain at the top with a set o' fine fellers like _you_!" Some of the men received this reply with a laugh, others frowned, and a few swore, while some of them looked regretfully at their self-willed shipmate; for it must not be supposed that _all_ the tars who float upon the sea are of the bold, candid, open-handed type, though we really believe that a large proportion of them are so. Be this as it may, the boats left the brig, and were soon far astern. "Thank you, Lillihammer," said Harold, going up and grasping the horny hand of the self-sacrificing sea-dog. "This is very kind of you, though I fear it may cost you your life. But it is too late to talk of that; we must fix on some plan, and act at once." "The werry thing, sir," said Disco quietly, "that wos runnin' in my own mind, 'cos it's werry clear that we hain't got too many minits to spare in confabilation." "Well, what do you suggest?" "Arter you, sir," said Disco, pulling his forelock; "you are capting now, an' ought to give orders." "Then I think the best thing we can do," rejoined Harold, "is to make straight for the shore, search for an opening in the reef, run through, and beach the vessel on the sand. What say you?" "As there's nothin' else left for us to do," replied Disco, "that's 'zactly wot I think too, an' the sooner we does it the better." "Down with the helm, then," cried Harold, springing forward, "and I'll ease off the sheets." In a few minutes the `Aurora' was surging before a stiff breeze towards the line of foam which indicated the outlying reef, and inside of which all was comparatively calm. "If we only manage to get inside," said Harold, "we shall do well." Disco made no reply. His whole attention was given to steering the brig, and running his eyes anxiously along the breakers, the sound of which increased to a thunderous roar as they drew near. "There seems something like a channel yonder," said Harold, pointing anxiously to a particular spot in the reef. "I see it, sir," was the curt reply. A few minutes more of suspense, and the brig drove into the supposed channel, and struck with such violence that the foremast snapped off near the deck, and went over the side. "God help us, we're lost!" exclaimed Harold, as a towering wave lifted the vessel up and hurled her like a plaything on the rocks. "Stand by to jump, sir," cried Disco. Another breaker came roaring in at the moment, overwhelmed the brig, rolled her over on her beam-ends, and swept the two men out of her. They struggled gallantly to free themselves from the wreck, and, succeeding with difficulty, swam across the sheltered water to the shore, on which they finally landed. Harold's first exclamation was one of thankfulness for their deliverance, to which Disco replied with a hearty "Amen!" and then turning round and surveying the coast, while he slowly thrust his hands into his wet trouser-pockets, wondered whereabouts in the world they had got to. "To the east coast of Africa, to be sure," observed the young supercargo, with a slight smile, as he wrung the water out of the foot of his trousers, "the place we were bound for, you know." "Werry good; so here we are--come to an anchor! Well, I only wish," he added, sitting down on a piece of driftwood, and rummaging in the pockets before referred to, as if in search of something--"I only wish I'd kep' on my weskit, 'cause all my 'baccy's there, and it would be a rael comfort to have a quid in the circumstances." It was fortunate for the wrecked voyagers that the set of the current had carried portions of their vessel to the shore, at a considerable distance from the spot where they had landed, because a band of natives, armed with spears and bows and arrows, had watched the wreck from the neighbouring heights, and had hastened to that part of the coast on which they knew from experience the cargo would be likely to drift. The heads of the swimmers being but small specks in the distance, had escaped observation. Thus they had landed unseen. The spot was near the entrance to a small river or creek, which was partially concealed by the formation of the land and by mangrove trees. Harold was the first to observe that they had not been cast on an uninhabited shore. While gazing round him, and casting about in his mind what was best to be done, he heard shouts, and hastening to a rocky point that hid part of the coast from his view looked cautiously over it and saw the natives. He beckoned to Disco, who joined him. "They haven't a friendly look about 'em," observed the seaman, "and they're summat scant in the matter of clothin'." "Appearances are often deceptive," returned his companion, "but I so far agree with you that I think our wisest course will be to retire into the woods, and there consult as to our future proceedings, for it is quite certain that as we cannot live on sand and salt water, neither can we safely sleep in wet clothes or on the bare ground in a climate like this." Hastening towards the entrance to the creek, the unfortunate pair entered the bushes, through which they pushed with some difficulty, until they gained a spot sufficiently secluded for their purpose, when they observed that they had passed through a belt of underwood, beyond which there appeared to be an open space. A few steps further and they came out on a sort of natural basin formed by the creek, in which floated a large boat of a peculiar construction, with very piratical-looking lateen sails. Their astonishment at this unexpected sight was increased by the fact that on the opposite bank of the creek there stood several men armed with muskets, which latter were immediately pointed at their breasts. The first impulse of the shipwrecked friends was to spring back into the bushes--the second to advance and hold up their empty hands to show that they were unarmed. "Hold on," exclaimed Disco, in a free and easy confidential tone; "we're friends, we are; shipwrecked mariners we is, so ground arms, my lads, an' make your minds easy." One of the men made some remark to another, who, from his Oriental dress, was easily recognised by Harold as one of the Arab traders of the coast. His men appeared to be half-castes. The Arab nodded gravely, and said something which induced his men to lower their muskets. Then with a wave of his hand he invited the strangers to come over the creek to him. This was rendered possible by the breadth of the boat already mentioned being so great that, while one side touched the right bank of the creek, the other was within four or five feet of the left. Without hesitation Harold Seadrift bounded lightly from the bank to the half-deck of the boat, and, stepping ashore, walked up to the Arab, closely followed by his companion. "Do you speak English?" asked Harold. The Arab shook his head and said, "Arabic, Portuguese." Harold therefore shook _his_ head;--then, with a hopeful look, said "French?" interrogatively. The Arab repeated the shake of his head, but after a moments' thought said, "I know littil Engleesh; speak, where comes you?" "We have been wrecked," began Harold (the Arab glanced gravely at his dripping clothes, as if to say, I had guessed as much), "and this man and I are the only survivors of the crew of our ship--at least the only two who swam on shore, the others went off in a boat." "Come you from man-of-war?" asked the Arab, with a keen glance at the candid countenance of the youth. "No, our vessel was a trader bound for Zanzibar. She now lies in fragments on the shore, and we have escaped with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Can you tell us whether there is a town or a village in the neighbourhood? for, as you see, we stand sadly in need of clothing, food, and shelter. We have no money, but we have good muscles and stout hearts, and could work our way well enough, I doubt not." Young Seadrift said this modestly, but the remark was unnecessary, for it would have been quite obvious to a man of much less intelligence than the Arab that a youth who, although just entering on the age of manhood, was six feet high, deep-chested, broad-shouldered, and as lithe as a kitten, could not find any difficulty in working his way, while his companion, though a little older, was evidently quite as capable. "There be no town, no village, for fifty miles from where you stand," replied the Arab. "Indeed!" exclaimed Harold in surprise, for he had always supposed the East African coast to be rather populous. "That's a blue look-out anyhow," observed Disco, "for it necessitates starvation, unless this good gentleman will hire us to work his craft. It ain't very ship-shape to be sure, but anything of a seagoin' craft comes more or less handy to an old salt." The trader listened with the politeness and profound gravity that seems to be characteristic of Orientals, but by no sign or expression showed whether he understood what was said. "_I_ go to Zanzibar," said he, turning to Harold, "and will take you,-- so you wish." There was something sinister in the man's manner which Harold did not like, but as he was destitute, besides being in the Arab's power, and utterly ignorant of the country, he thought it best to put a good face on matters, and therefore thanked him for his kind offer, and assured him that on reaching Zanzibar he would be in a position to pay for his passage as well as that of his friend. "May I ask," continued Harold, "what your occupation is?" "I am trader." Harold thought he would venture another question:-- "In what sort of goods do you trade?" "Ivory. Some be white, an' some be what your contrymans do call black." "Black!" exclaimed Harold, in surprise. "Yees, black," replied the trader. "White ivory do come from the elephant--hims tusk; Black Ivory do come,"--he smiled slightly at this point--"from the land everywheres. It bees our chef artikil of trade." "Indeed! I never heard of it before." "No?" replied the trader; "you shall see it much here. But I go talk with my mans. Wait." Saying this, in a tone which savoured somewhat unpleasantly of command, the Arab went towards a small hut near to which his men were standing, and entered into conversation with them. It was evident that they were ill pleased with what he said at first for there was a good deal of remonstrance in their tones, while they pointed frequently in a certain direction which seemed to indicate the coast-line; but by degrees their tones changed, and they laughed and chuckled a good deal, as if greatly tickled by the speech of the Arab, who, however, maintained a look of dignified gravity all the time. "I don't like the looks o' them fellers," remarked Disco, after observing them in silence for some time. "They're a cut-throat set, I'm quite sure, an' if you'll take my advice, Mister Seadrift, we'll give 'em the slip, an' try to hunt up one o' the native villages. I shouldn't wonder, now, if that chap was a slave-trader." "The same idea has occurred to myself, Disco," replied Harold, "and I would willingly leave him if I thought there was a town or village within twenty miles of us; but we are ignorant on that point and I have heard enough of the African climate to believe that it might cost us our lives if we were obliged to spend a night in the jungle without fire, food, or covering, and with nothing on but a wet flannel shirt and pair of canvas breeches. No, no, lad, we must not risk it. Besides, although some Arabs are slave-traders, it does not follow that all are. This fellow may turn out better than he looks." Disco Lillihammer experienced some sensations of surprise on hearing his young friend's remarks on the climate, for he knew nothing whatever about that of Africa, having sailed chiefly in the Arctic Seas as a whaler,--and laboured under the delusion that no climate under the sun could in any degree affect his hardy and well-seasoned frame. He was too respectful, however, to let his thoughts be known. Meanwhile the Arab returned. "I sail this night," he said, "when moon go down. That not far before midnight. You mus keep by boat here--close. If you go this way or that the niggers kill you. They not come _here_; they know I is here. I go look after my goods and chattels--my Black Ivory." "Mayn't we go with 'ee, mister--what's your name?" "My name?--Yoosoof," replied the Arab, in a tone and with a look which were meant to command respect. "Well, Mister Yoosoof," continued Disco, "if we may make bold to ax leave for to go with 'ee, we could lend 'ee a helpin' hand, d'ye see, to carry yer goods an' chattels down to the boat." "There is no need," said Yoosoof, waving his hand, and pointing to the hut before mentioned. "Go; you can rest till we sail. Sleep; you will need it. There is littil rice in hut--eat that, and make fire, dry youselfs." So saying, the Arab left them by a path leading into the woods, along which his men, who were Portuguese half-castes, had preceded him. "Make fire indeed!" exclaimed Disco, as he walked with his companion to the hut; "one would think, from the free-and-easy way in which he tells us to make it, that he's in the habit himself of striking it out o' the point o' his own nose, or some such convenient fashion." "More likely to flash it out of his eyes, I should think," said Harold; "but, see here, the fellow knew what he was talking about. There is fire among these embers on the hearth." "That's true," replied Disco, going down on his knees, and blowing them carefully. In a few minutes a spark leaped into a flame, wood was heaped on, and the flame speedily became a rousing fire, before which they dried their garments, while a pot of rice was put on to boil. Scarcely had they proceeded thus far in their preparations, when two men, armed with muskets, were seen to approach, leading a negro girl between them. As they drew nearer, it was observable that the girl had a brass ring round her neck, to which a rope was attached. "A slave!" exclaimed Disco vehemently, while the blood rushed to his face; "let's set her free!" The indignant seaman had half sprung to his legs before Harold seized and pulled him forcibly back. "Be quiet man," said Harold quickly. "If we _could_ free her by fighting, I would help you, but we can't. Evidently we have got into a nest of slavers. Rashness will only bring about our own death. Be wise; bide your time, and we may live to do some good yet." He stopped abruptly, for the new comers had reached the top of the winding path that led to the hut. A look of intense surprise overspread the faces of the two men when they entered and saw the Englishmen sitting comfortably by the fire, and both, as if by instinct threw forward the muzzles of their muskets. "Oh! come in, come in, make your minds easy," cried Disco, in a half-savage tone, despite the warning he had received; "we're all _friends_ here--leastwise we can't help ourselves." Fortunately for our mariner the men did not understand him, and before they could make up their minds what to think of it, or how to act Harold rose, and, with a polite bow, invited them to enter. "Do you understand English?" he asked. A frown, and a decided shake of the head from both men, was the reply. The poor negro girl cowered behind her keepers, as if she feared that violence were about to ensue. Having tried French with a like result, Harold uttered the name, "Yoosoof," and pointed in the direction in which the trader had entered the woods. The men looked intelligently at each other, and nodded. Then Harold said "Zanzibar," and pointed in the direction in which he supposed that island lay. Again the men glanced at each other, and nodded. Harold next said "Boat--dhow," and pointed towards the creek, which remark and sign were received as before. "Good," he continued, slapping himself on the chest, and pointing to his companion, "_I_ go to Zanzibar, _he_ goes, _she_ goes," (pointing to the girl), "_you_ go, and Yoosoof goes--all in the dhow together to Zanzibar--to-night--when moon goes down. D'ee understand? Now then, come along and have some rice." He finished up by slapping one of the men on the shoulder, and lifting the kettle off the fire, for the rice had already been cooked and only wanted warming. The men looked once again at each other, nodded, laughed, and sat down on a log beside the fire, opposite to the Englishmen. They were evidently much perplexed by the situation, and, not knowing what to make of it, were disposed in the meantime to be friendly. While they were busy with the rice, Disco gazed in silent wonder, and with intense pity, at the slave-girl, who sat a little to one side of her guardians on a mat, her small hands folded together resting on one knee, her head drooping, and her eyes cast down. The enthusiastic tar found it very difficult to restrain his feelings. He had heard, of course, more or less about African slavery from shipmates, but he had never read about it, and had never seriously given his thoughts to it, although his native sense of freedom, justice, and fair-play had roused a feeling of indignation in his breast whenever the subject chanced to be discussed by him and his mates. But now, for the first time in his life, suddenly and unexpectedly, he was brought face to face with slavery. No wonder that he was deeply moved. "Why, Mister Seadrift," he said, in the confidential tone of one who imparts a new discovery, "I do honestly confess to 'ee that I think that's a _pretty_ girl!" "I quite agree with you," replied Harold, smiling. "Ay, but I mean _really_ pretty, you know. I've always thought that all niggers had ugly flat noses an' thick blubber lips. But look at that one: her lips are scarce a bit thicker than those of many a good-looking lass in England, and they don't stick out at all, and her nose ain't flat a bit. It's quite as good as my Nancy's nose, an' that's sayin' a good deal, _I_ tell 'ee. Moreover, she ain't black--she's brown." It is but justice to Disco to say that he was right in his observations, and to explain that the various negro tribes in Africa differ very materially from each other; some of them, as we are told by Dr Livingstone, possessing little of what, in our eyes, seems the characteristic ugliness of the negro--such as thick lips, flat noses, protruding heels, etcetera,--but being in every sense handsome races of humanity. The slave-girl whom Disco admired and pitied so much belonged to one of these tribes, and, as was afterwards ascertained, had been brought from the far interior. She appeared to be very young, nevertheless there was a settled expression of meek sorrow and suffering on her face; and though handsomely formed, she was extremely thin, no doubt from prolonged hardships on the journey down to the coast. "Here, have somethin' to eat," exclaimed Disco, suddenly filling a tin plate with rice, and carrying it to the girl, who, however, shook her head without raising her eyes. "You're not hungry, poor thing," said the seaman, in a disappointed tone; "you look as if you should be. Come, try it," he added, stooping, and patting her head. The poor child looked up as if frightened, and shrank from the seaman's touch, but on glancing a second time in his honest face, she appeared to feel confidence in him. Nevertheless, she would not touch the rice until her guardians said something to her sternly, when she began to eat with an appetite that was eloquent. "Come, now, tell us what your name is, lass," said Disco, when she had finished the rice. Of course the girl shook her head, but appeared to wish to understand the question, while the Portuguese laughed and seemed amused with the Englishman's eccentricities. "Look here, now," resumed the tar, slapping his own chest vigorously, "Disco, Disco, Disco, that's me--Disco. And this man," (patting his companion on the breast) "is Harold, Harold, that's him--Harold. Now, then," he added, pointing straight at the girl, "you--what's you name, eh?" A gleam of intelligence shot from the girl's expressive eyes, and she displayed a double row of beautiful teeth as in a low soft voice she said--"Azinte." "Azinte? come, that's not a bad name; why, it's a capital one. Just suited to 'ee. Well, Azinte, my poor girl," said Disco, with a fresh outburst of feeling, as he clenched his horny right hand and dashed it into the palm of his left, "if I only knew how to set you free just now, my dear, I'd do it--ay, if I was to be roasted alive for so doin'. I would!" "You'll never set anybody free in this world," said Harold Seadrift, with some severity, "if you go on talking and acting as you have done to-day. If these men had not, by good fortune, been ignorant of our language, it's my opinion that they would have blown our brains out before this time. You should restrain yourself, man," he continued, gradually dropping into a remonstrative and then into an earnestly confidential tone; "we are utterly helpless just now. If you did succeed in freeing that girl at this moment, it would only be to let her fall into the hands of some other slave-owner. Besides, that would not set free all the other slaves, male and female, who are being dragged from the interior of Africa. You and I _may_ perhaps do some small matter in the way of helping to free slaves, if we keep quiet and watch our opportunity, but we shall accomplish nothing if you give way to useless bursts of anger." Poor Lillihammer was subdued. "You're right Mister Seadrift, you're right, sir, and I'm a ass. I never _could_ keep my feelings down. It's all along of my havin' bin made too much of by my mother, dear old woman, w'en I was a boy. But I'll make a effort, sir; I'll clap a stopper on 'em--bottle 'em up and screw 'em down tight, werry tight indeed." Disco again sent his right fist into the palm of his left hand, with something like the sound of a pistol-shot to the no small surprise and alarm of the Portuguese, and, rising, went out to cool his heated brow in the open air. CHAPTER TWO. YOOSOOF'S "BLACK IVORY." When Yoosoof entered the woods, as before stated, for the purpose of looking after his property, he followed a narrow footpath for about half a mile, which led him to another part of the same creek, at the entrance of which we introduced him to the reader. Here, under the deep shadow of umbrageous trees, floated five large Arab boats, or dhows, similar to the one which has been already referred to. They were quite empty, and apparently unguarded, for when Yoosoof went down the bank and stood on a projecting rock which overlooked them, no one replied to his low-toned hail. Repeating it once, and still receiving no answer, he sat quietly down on the rocks, lighted a small pipe, and waited patiently. The boats, as we have said, were empty, but there were some curious appliances in them, having the appearance of chains, and wristlets, and bars of iron running along and fixed to their decks, or rather to the flooring of their holds. Their long yards and sails were cleared and ready for hoisting. After the lapse of ten or fifteen minutes, Yoosoof raised his head--for he had been meditating deeply, if one might judge from his attitude--and glanced in the direction of an opening in the bushes whence issued a silent and singular train of human beings. They were negroes, secured by the necks or wrists--men, women, and children,--and guarded by armed half-caste Portuguese. When a certain number of them, about a hundred or so, had issued from the wood, and crowded the banks of the creek, they were ordered to stand still, and the leader of the band advanced towards his master. These were some of Yoosoof's "goods and chattels," his "cattle," his "black ivory." "You have been long in coming, Moosa," said the Arab trader, as the man approached. "I have," replied Moosa, somewhat gruffly, "but the road was rough and long, and the cattle were ill-conditioned, as you see." The two men spoke in the Portuguese tongue, but as the natives and settlers on that coast speak a variety of languages and dialects, we have no alternative, good reader, but to render all into English. "Make the more haste now," said Yoosoof; "get them shipped at once, for we sail when the moon goes down. Pick out the weakest among the lot, those most likely to die, and put them by themselves in the small dhow. If we _must_ sacrifice some of our wares to these meddling dogs the English, we may as well give them the refuse." Without remark, Moosa turned on his heel and proceeded to obey orders. Truly, to one unaccustomed to such scenes, it would have appeared that all the negroes on the spot were "most likely to die," for a more wretched, starved set of human beings could scarcely be imagined. They had just terminated a journey on foot of several hundreds of miles, with insufficient food and under severe hardships. Nearly all of them were lean to a degree,--many so reduced that they resembled nothing but skeletons with a covering of black leather. Some of the children were very young, many of them mere infants, clinging to the backs of the poor mothers, who had carried them over mountain and plain, through swamp and jungle, in blistering sunshine and pelting rain for many weary days. But prolonged suffering had changed the nature of these little ones. They were as silent and almost as intelligently anxious as their seniors. There were no old pieces of merchandise there. Most were youthful or in the prime of life; a few were middle-aged. Difficult though the task appeared to be, Moosa soon selected about fifty men and women and a few children, who were so fearfully emaciated that their chance of surviving appeared but small. These were cast loose and placed in a sitting posture in the hold of the smallest dhow, as close together as they could be packed. Their removal from the bank made room for more to issue from the wood, which they did in a continuous stream. Batch after batch was cast loose and stowed away in the manner already described, until the holds of two of the large boats were filled, each being capable of containing about two hundred souls. This was so far satisfactory to Yoosoof, who had expended a good deal of money on the venture--satisfactory, even although he had lost a large proportion of the goods--four-fifths at least if not more, by death and otherwise, on the way down to the coast; but that was a matter of little consequence. The price of black ivory was up in the market just at that time, and the worthy merchant could stand a good deal of loss. The embarkation was effected with wonderful celerity, and in comparative silence. Only the stern voices of the half-caste Portuguese were heard as they ordered the slaves to move, mingled with the occasional clank of a chain, but no sounds proceeded from the thoroughly subdued and worn-out slaves louder than a sigh or a half-suppressed wail, with now and then a shriek of pain when some of the weaker among them were quickened into activity by the lash. When all had been embarked, two of the five boats still remained empty, but Yoosoof had a pretty good idea of the particular points along the coast where more "cattle" of a similar kind could be purchased. Therefore, after stationing some of his men, armed with muskets, to guard the boats, he returned with the remainder of them to the hut in which the Englishmen had been left. There he found Azinte and her guardians. He seemed angry with the latter at first, but after a few minutes' thought appeared to recover his equanimity, and ordered the men to remove the ropes with which the girl was tethered; then bidding her follow him he left the hut without taking any notice of the Englishmen further than to say he would be back shortly before the time of sailing. Yoosoof's motions were usually slow and his mien somewhat dignified, but, when occasion required, he could throw off his Oriental dignity and step out with the activity of a monkey. It was so on this occasion, insomuch that Azinte was obliged occasionally to run in order to keep up with him. Proceeding about two miles in the woods along the shore without halt, he came out at length on the margin of a bay, at the head of which lay a small town. It was a sorry-looking place, composed of wretchedly built houses, most of which were thatched with the leaves of the cocoa-nut palm. Nevertheless, such as it was, it possessed a mud fort, an army of about thirty soldiers, composed of Portuguese convicts who had been sent there as a punishment for many crimes, a Governor, who was understood to be honourable, having been placed there by his Excellency the Governor-General at Mozambique, who had been himself appointed by His Most Faithful Majesty the King of Portugal. It was in quest of this Governor that Yoosoof bent his rapid steps. Besides all the advantages above enumerated, the town drove a small trade in ivory, ebony, indigo, orchella weed, gum copal, cocoa-nut oil, and other articles of native produce, and a very large (though secret) trade in human bodies and--we had almost written--souls, but the worthy people who dwelt there could not fetter souls, although they could, and very often did, set them free. Senhor Francisco Alfonso Toledo Bignoso Letotti, the Governor, was seated at the open window of his parlour, just before Yoosoof made his appearance, conversing lightly with his only daughter, the Senhorina Maraquita, a beautiful brunette of about eighteen summers, who had been brought up and educated in Portugal. The Governor's wife had died a year before this time in Madrid, and the Senhorina had gone to live with her father on the east coast of Africa, at which place she had arrived just six weeks previous to the date of the opening of our tale. Among the various boats and vessels at anchor in the bay, were seen the tapering masts of a British war-steamer. The Senhorina and her sire were engaged in a gossiping criticism of the officers of this vessel when Yoosoof was announced. Audience was immediately granted. Entering the room, with Azinte close behind him, the Arab stopped abruptly on beholding Maraquita, and bowed gravely. "Leave us, my child," said the Governor, in Portuguese; "I have business to transact with this man." "And why may not I stay to assist you, father, in this wonderful man-mystery of transacting business?" asked Maraquita, with an arch smile. "Whenever you men want to get rid of women you frighten them away with _business_! If you wish not to explain something to us, you shake your wise heads, and call it _business_! Is it not so?--Come, Arab," she added, turning with a sprightly air to Yoosoof, "you are a trader, I suppose; all Arabs are, I am told. Well, what sort of wares have you got to sell?" Yoosoof smiled slightly as he stepped aside and pointed to Azinte. The speaking countenance of the Portuguese girl changed as if by magic. She had seen little and thought little about slavery during the brief period of her residence on the coast, and had scarcely realised the fact that Sambo, with the thick lips--her father's gardener--or the black cook and house-maids, were slaves. It was the first entrance of a new idea with something like power into her mind when she saw a delicate, mild-looking, and pretty negro girl actually offered for sale. Before she could bethink herself of any remark the door opened, and in walked, unannounced, a man on whose somewhat handsome countenance villainy was clearly stamped. "Ha! Marizano," exclaimed Senhor Letotti, rising, "you have thought better of it, I presume?" "I have, and I agree to your arrangement," replied Marizano, in an off-hand, surly tone. "There is nothing like necessity," returned the Governor, with a laugh. "'Twere better to enjoy a roving life for a short time with a lightish purse in one's pocket, than to attempt to keep a heavy purse with the addition of several ounces of lead in one's breast! How say you?" Marizano smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders, but made no reply, for just then his attention had been attracted to the slave-girl. "For sale?" he inquired of the Arab carelessly. Yoosoof bowed his head slightly. "How much?" "Come, come, gentlemen," interposed the Governor, with a laugh and a glance at his daughter, "you can settle this matter elsewhere. Yoosoof has come here to talk with me on other matters.--Now, Maraquita dear, you had better retire for a short time." When the Senhorina had somewhat unwillingly obeyed, the Governor turned to Yoosoof: "I presume you have no objection to Marizano's presence during our interview, seeing that he is almost as well acquainted with your affairs as yourself?" As Yoosoof expressed no objection, the three drew their chairs together and sat down to a prolonged private and very interesting palaver. We do not mean to try the reader's patience by dragging him through the whole of it; nevertheless, a small portion of what was said is essential to the development of our tale. "Well, then, be it as you wish, Yoosoof," said the Governor, folding up a fresh cigarette; "you are one of the most active traders on the coast, and never fail to keep correct accounts with your Governor. You deserve encouragement but I fear that you run considerable risk." "I know that; but those who make much must risk much." "Bravo!" exclaimed Marizano, with hearty approval; "nevertheless those who risk most do not always make most. Contrast yourself with me, now. You risk your boats and cattle, and become rich. I risk my life, and behold! I am fleeced. I have little or nothing left, barely enough to buy yonder girl from you--though I _think_ I have enough for that." He pointed as he spoke to Azinte, who still stood on the spot where she had been left near the door. "Tell me," resumed Senhor Letotti, "how do you propose to elude the English cruiser? for I know that her captain has got wind of your whereabouts, and is determined to watch the coast closely--and let me tell you, he is a vigorous, intelligent man." "You tell me he has a number of captured slaves already in his ship?" said Yoosoof. "Yes, some hundreds, I believe." "He must go somewhere to land these, I presume?" rejoined the Arab. Yoosoof referred here to the fact that when a British cruiser engaged in the suppression of the slave-trade on the east coast of Africa has captured a number of slaves, she is under the necessity of running to the Seychelles Islands, Aden, or some other British port of discharge, to land them there as free men, because, were she to set them free on any part of the coast of Africa, belonging either to Portugal or the Sultan of Zanzibar, they would certainly be recaptured and again enslaved. When therefore the cruisers are absent--it may be two or three weeks on this duty, the traders in human flesh of course make the most of their opportunity to run cargoes of slaves to those ports in Arabia and Persia where they always find a ready market. On the present occasion Yoosoof conceived that the captain of the `Firefly' might be obliged to take this course to get rid of the negroes already on board, who were of course consuming his provisions, besides being an extremely disagreeable cargo, many of them being diseased and covered with sores, owing to their cruel treatment on board the slave-dhows. "He won't go, however, till he has hunted the coast north and south for you, so he assures me," said the Governor, with a laugh. "Well, I must start to-night, therefore I shall give him a small pill to swallow which will take him out of the way," said Yoosoof, rising to leave the room. "I wish you both success," said the Governor, as Marizano also rose to depart, "but I fear that you will find the Englishman very troublesome.--Adieu." The Arab and the half-caste went out talking earnestly together, and followed by Azinte, and immediately afterwards the Senhorina Maraquita entered hurriedly. "Father, you must buy that slave-girl for me. I want a pretty slave all to myself," she said, with unwonted vehemence. "Impossible, my child," replied the Governor kindly, for he was very fond as well as proud of his daughter. "Why impossible? Have you not enough of money?" "Oh yes, plenty of that, but I fear she is already bespoken, and I should not like to interfere--" "Bespoken! do you mean sold?" cried Maraquita, seizing her father's hands, "not sold to that man Marizano?" "I think she must be by this time, for he's a prompt man of business, and not easily thwarted when he sets his mind to a thing." The Senhorina clasped her hands before her eyes, and stood for a moment motionless, then rushing wildly from the room she passed into another apartment the windows of which commanded a view of a considerable part of the road which led from the house along the shore. There she saw the Arab and his friend walking leisurely along as if in earnest converse, while Azinte followed meekly behind. The Senhorina stood gazing at them with clenched hands, in an agony of uncertainty as to what course she ought to pursue, and so wrapt up in her thoughts that she failed to observe a strapping young lieutenant of H.M.S. steamer `Firefly,' who had entered the room and stood close to her side. Now this same lieutenant happened to be wildly in love with Senhorina Maraquita. He had met her frequently at her father's table, where, in company with his captain, he was entertained with great hospitality, and on which occasions the captain was assisted by the Governor in his investigations into the slave-trade. Lieutenant Lindsay had taken the romantic plunge with all the charming enthusiasm of inexperienced youth, and entertained the firm conviction that, if Senhorina Maraquita did not become "his," life would thenceforth be altogether unworthy of consideration; happiness would be a thing of the past, with which he should have nothing more to do, and death at the cannon's mouth, or otherwise, would be the only remaining gleam of comfort in his dingy future. "Something distresses you, I fear," began the lieutenant, not a little perplexed to find the young lady in such a peculiar mood. Maraquita started, glanced at him a moment, and then, with flashing eyes and heightened colour, pointed at the three figures on the road. "Yes, Senhor," she said; "I am distressed--deeply so. Look! do you see yonder two men, and the girl walking behind them?" "I do." "Quick! fly after them and bring them hither--the Arab and the girl I mean--not the other man. Oh, be quick, else they will be out of sight and then she will be lost; quick, if you--if--if you really mean what you have so often told me." Poor Lindsay! It was rather a sudden and severe test of fidelity to be sent forth to lay violent hands on a man and woman and bring them forcibly to the Governor's house, without any better reason than that a self-willed girl ordered him so to do; at the same time, he perceived that, if he did not act promptly, the retreating figures would soon turn into the town, and be hopelessly beyond his power of recognition. "But--but--" he stammered, "if they won't come--?" "They _must_ come. Threaten my father's high displeasure.--Quick, Senhor," cried the young lady in a commanding tone. Lindsay flung open the casement and leapt through it as being the shortest way out of the house, rushed with undignified speed along the road, and overtook the Arab and his friend as they were about to turn into one of the narrow lanes of the town. "Pardon me," said the lieutenant laying his hand on Yoosoof's shoulder in his anxiety to make sure of him, "will you be so good as to return with me to the Governor's residence?" "By whose orders?" demanded Yoosoof with a look of surprise. "The orders of the Senhorina Maraquita." The Arab hesitated, looked somewhat perplexed, and said something in Portuguese to Marizano, who pointed to the slave-girl, and spoke with considerable vehemence. Lindsay did not understand what was said, but, conjecturing that the half-caste was proposing that Azinte should remain with him, he said:--"The girl must return with you--if you would not incur the Governor's displeasure." Marizano, on having this explained to him, looked with much ferocity at the lieutenant and spoke to Yoosoof in wrathful tones, but the latter shook his head, and the former, who disliked Marizano's appearance excessively, took not the least notice of him. "I do go," said Yoosoof, turning back. Motioning to Azinte to follow, he retraced his steps with the lieutenant and the slave--while Marizano strode into the town in a towering rage. We need scarcely say that Maraquita, having got possession of Azinte, did not find it impossible to persuade her father to purchase her, and that Yoosoof, although sorry to disappoint Marizano, who was an important ally and assistant in the slave-trade, did not see his way to thwart the wishes of the Governor, whose power to interfere with his trade was very great indeed, and to whom he was under the necessity of paying head-money for every slave that was exported by him from that part of the coast. Soon after Azinte had been thus happily rescued from the clutches of two of the greatest villains on the East African coast--where villains of the deepest dye are by no means uncommon--Lindsay met Captain Romer of the `Firefly' on the beach, with his first lieutenant Mr Small, who, by the way, happened to be one of the largest men in his ship. The three officers had been invited to dine that day with the Governor, and as there seemed no particular occasion for their putting to sea that night, and a fresh supply of water had to be taken on board, the invitation had been accepted, all the more readily, too, that Captain Romer thought it afforded an opportunity for obtaining further information as to the movements of certain notorious slavers who were said to be thereabouts at that time. Lieutenant Lindsay had been sent ashore at an earlier part of the day, accompanied by one of the sailors who understood Portuguese, and who, being a remarkably intelligent man, might, it was thought, acquire some useful information from some of the people of the town. "Well, Mr Lindsay, has Jackson been of any use to you?" inquired the captain. "Not yet," replied the lieutenant; "at least I know not what he may have done, not having met him since we parted on landing; but I have myself been so fortunate as to rescue a slave-girl under somewhat peculiar circumstances." "Truly, a most romantic and gallant affair," said the captain, laughing, when Lindsay had related the incident, "and worthy of being mentioned in despatches; but I suspect, considering the part that the Senhorina Maraquita played in it and the fact that you only rescued the girl from one slaveholder in order to hand her over to another, the less that is said about the subject the better!--But here comes Jackson. Perhaps he may have learned something about the scoundrels we are in search of." The seaman referred to approached and touched his cap. "What news?" demanded the captain, who knew by the twinkle in Jack's eye that he had something interesting to report. "I've diskivered all about it sir," replied the man, with an ill-suppressed chuckle. "Indeed! come this way. Now, let's hear what you have to tell," said the captain, when at a sufficient distance from his boat to render the conversation quite private. "Well, sir," began Jackson, "w'en I got up into the town, arter leavin' Mr Lindsay, who should I meet but a man as had bin a messmate o' mine aboard of that there Portuguese ship w'ere I picked up a smatterin' o' the lingo? Of course we hailed each other and hove-to for a spell, and then we made sail for a grog-shop, where we spliced the main-brace. After a deal o' tackin' and beatin' about, which enabled me to find out that he'd left the sea an' taken to business on his own account, which in them parts seems to mean loafin' about doin' little or nothin', I went slap into the subject that was uppermost in my mind, and says I to him, says I, they does a deal o' slavin' on this here coast, it appears--Black Ivory is a profitable trade, ain't it? W'y, sir, you should have seen the way he grinned and winked, and opened out on 'em.--`Black Ivory!' says he, `w'y, Jackson, there's more slaves exported from these here parts annooally than would fill a good-sized city. I could tell you--but,' says he, pullin' up sudden, `you won't split on me, messmate?' `Honour bright,' says I, `if ye don't call tellin' my captain splittin'.' `Oh no,' says he, with a laugh, `it's little I care what _he_ knows, or does to the pirates--for that's their true name, and murderers to boot--but don't let it come to the Governor's ears, else I'm a ruined man.' I says I wouldn't and then he goes on to tell me all sorts of hanecdots about their doin's--that they does it with the full consent of the Governor, who gets head-money for every slave exported; that nearly all the Governors on the coast are birds of the same feather, and that the Governor-General himself, [See Consul McLeod's _Travels in Eastern Africa_, volume one page 306.] at Mozambique, winks at it and makes the subordinate Governors pay him tribute. Then he goes on to tell me more about the Governor of this here town, an' says that, though a kind-hearted man in the main, and very good to his domestic slaves, he encourages the export trade, because it brings him in a splendid revenue, which he has much need of, poor man, for like most, if not all, of the Governors on the coast, he do receive nothin' like a respectible salary from the Portuguese Government at home, and has to make it up by slave-tradin'." [See McLeod's _Travels_, volume one page 293.] It must be explained here that British cruisers were, and still are, kept on the east coast of Africa, for the purpose of crushing only the _export_ slave-trade. They claim no right to interfere with "domestic slavery," an institution which is still legal in the dominions of the Sultan of Zanzibar and in the so-called colonies of Portugal on that coast. "But that is not the best of it, sir," continued Jackson, with a respectful smile, "after we'd had our jaw out I goes off along the road by the beach to think a bit what I'd best do, an' have a smoke--for that's wot usually sets my brain to work full-swing. Bein' hot I lay down in the lee of a bush to excogitate. You see, sir, my old messmate told me that there are two men here, the worst characters he ever know'd--ashore or afloat. One they calls Yoosoof--an Arab he is; the other Marizano--he's a slave-catcher, and an outlaw just now, havin' taken up arms and rebelled against the Portuguese authorities. Nevertheless these two men are secretly hand and glove with the Governor here, and at this moment there are said to be a lot o' slaves ready for shipment and only waitin' till the `Firefly' is out of the way. More than this my friend could not tell, so that's w'y I went to excogitate.--I beg parding, sir, for being so long wi' my yarn, but I ain't got the knack o' cuttin' it short, sir, that's w'ere it is." "Never mind, lad; go on to the end of it," replied the captain. "Did you excogitate anything more?" "I can't say as I did, sir, but it was cooriously enough excogitated _for_ me. W'en I was lying there looking through the bush at the bay, I sees two men comin' along, arm in arm. One of 'em was an Arab. W'en they was near I saw the Arab start; I thought he'd seen me, and didn't like me. No more did I like him or his comrade. However, I was wrong, for after whisperin' somethin' very earnest-like to his friend, who laughed very much; but said nothin', they came and sat down not far from the bush where I lay. Now, thinks I, it ain't pleasant to be an eavesdropper, but as I'm here to find out the secrets of villains, and as these two look uncommon like villains, I'll wait a bit; if they broach business as don't consarn me or her Majesty the Queen, I'll sneeze an' let 'em know I'm here, before they're properly under weigh; but if they speaks of wot I wants to know, I'll keep quiet. Well, sir, to my surprise, the Arab--he speaks in bad English, whereby I came to suppose the other was an Englishman, but, if he is, the climate must have spoiled him badly, for I never did see such a ruffian to look at. But he only laughed, and didn't speak, so I couldn't be sure. Well, to come to the pint, sir, the Arab said he'd got hold of two shipwrecked Englishmen, whom he meant to put on board of his dhow, at that time lyin' up a river not three miles off, and full of slaves, take 'em off the coast, seize 'em when asleep, and heave 'em overboard; the reason bein' that he was afraid, if they was left ashore here, they'd discover the town, which they are ignorant of at present, and give the alarm to our ship, sir, an' so prevent him gettin' clear off, which he means to attempt about midnight just after the moon goes down." This unexpected information was very gratifying to Captain Romer, who immediately gave orders to get steam up and have everything in readiness to start the moment he should make his appearance on board, at the same time enjoining absolute silence on his lieutenants and Jackson, who all returned to the `Firefly,' chuckling inwardly. If they had known that the Arab's information, though partly true, was a _ruse_; that Jackson had indeed been observed by the keen-eyed Oriental, who had thereupon sat down purposely within earshot, and after a whispered hint to his companion, gave forth such information as would be likely to lead the British cruiser into his snares--speaking in bad English, under the natural impression that the sailor did not understand Portuguese, to the immense amusement of Marizano, who understood the _ruse_, though he did not understand a single word of what his companion said--had they known all this, we say, it is probable that they would have chuckled less, and--but why indulge in probabilities when facts are before us? The sequel will show that the best-laid plans may fail. CHAPTER THREE. RELATES THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF HAROLD AND DISCO, AND LIFTS THE CURTAIN A LITTLE HIGHER IN REGARD TO THE SLAVE-TRADE. So Captain Romer and his lieutenants went to dine with the worthy Governor Senhor Francisco Alfonso Toledo Bignoso Letotti, while Yoosoof returned to the creek to carry out his deep-laid plans. In regard to the dinner, let it suffice to observe that it was good, and that the Governor was urbane, hospitable, communicative, and every way agreeable. It is probable that if he had been trained in another sphere and in different circumstances he might have been a better man. As things stood, he was unquestionably a pleasant one, and Captain Romer found it hard to believe that he was an underhand schemer. Nothing could exceed the open way in which Senhor Letotti condemned the slave-trade, praised the English for their zeal in attempting to suppress it, explained that the King of Portugal and the Sultan of Zanzibar were equally anxious for its total extinction, and assured his guests that he would do everything that lay in his power to further their efforts to capture the guilty kidnappers, and to free the poor slaves! "But, my dear sir," said he, at the conclusion of an emphatic declaration of sympathy, "the thing is exceedingly difficult. You are aware that Arab traders swarm upon the coast, that they are reckless men, who possess boats and money in abundance, that the trade is very profitable, and that, being to some extent real traders in ivory, palm-oil, indigo, and other kinds of native produce, these men have many _ruses_ and methods--what you English call dodges--whereby they can deceive even the most sharp-sighted and energetic. The Arabs are smart smugglers of negroes--very much as your people who live in the Scottish land are smart smugglers of the dew of the mountain--what your great poet Burns speaks much of--I forget its name--it is not easy to put them down." After dinner, Senhor Letotti led the officers into his garden, and showed them his fruit-trees and offices, also his domestic slaves, who looked healthy, well cared for, and really in some degree happy. He did not, however, tell his guests that being naturally a humane man, his slaves were better treated than any other slaves in the town. He did not remind them that, being slaves, they were his property, his goods and chattels, and that he possessed the right and the power to flay them alive if so disposed. He did not explain that many in the town _were_ so disposed; that cruelty grows and feeds upon itself; that there were ladies and gentlemen there who flogged their slaves--men, women, and children--nearly to the death; that one gentleman of an irascible disposition, when irritated by some slight oversight on the part of the unfortunate boy who acted as his valet, could find no relief to his feelings until he had welted him first into a condition of unutterable terror, and then into a state of insensibility. Neither did he inform them that a certain lady in the town, who seemed at most times to be possessed of a reasonably quiet spirit, was roused once to such a degree by a female slave that she caused her to be forcibly held, thrust a boiling hot egg into her mouth, skewered her lips together with a sail-needle, and then striking her cheeks, burst the egg, and let the scalding contents run down her throat. [See Consul McLeod's _Travels_, volume two page 32.] No, nothing of all this did the amiable Governor Letotti so much as hint at. He would not for the world have shocked the sensibilities of his guests by the recital of such cruelties. To say truth, the worthy man himself did not like to speak or think of them. In this respect he resembled a certain class among ourselves, who, rather than submit to a little probing of their feelings for a few minutes, would prefer to miss the chance of making an intelligently indignant protest against slavery, and would allow the bodies and souls of their fellow-men to continue writhing in agony through all time. It was much more gratifying to the feelings of Senhor Letotti to convey his guests to the drawing-room, and there gratify their palates with excellent coffee, while the graceful, and now clothed, Azinte brought a Spanish guitar to the Senhorina Maraquita, whose sweet voice soon charmed away all thoughts of the cruel side of slavery. But duty ere long stepped in to call the guests to other scenes. "What a sweet girl the Senhorina is!" remarked Captain Romer, while on his way to the beach. "Ay, and what a pretty girl Azinte is, black though she be," observed Lieutenant Small. "Call her not black; she is brown--a brunette," said the captain. "I wonder how _we_ should feel," said Lindsay, "if the tables were turned, and _our_ women and children, with our stoutest young men, were forcibly taken from us by thousands every year, and imported into Africa to grind the corn and hoe the fields of the black man. Poor Azinte!" "Do you know anything of her history?" inquired Mr Small. "A little. I had some conversation in French with the Senhorina just before we left--" "Yes, I observed that," interrupted the captain, with a quiet smile. "And," continued Lindsay, "she told me that she had discovered, through an interpreter, that the poor girl is married, and that her home is far away in the interior. She was caught, with many others, while out working in the fields one day several months ago, by a party of slave-traders, under an Arab named Yoosoof and carried off. Her husband was absent at the time; her infant boy was with its grandmother in their village, and she thinks may have escaped into the woods, but she has not seen any of them again since the day of her capture." "It is a sad case," said the captain, "and yet bad though it be, it might be far worse, for Azinte's master and mistress are very kind, which is more than can be said of most slave-owners in this region." In a few minutes the captain's gig was alongside the "Firefly," and soon afterwards that vessel quietly put to sea. Of course it was impossible that she should depart unobserved, but her commander took the precaution to run due south at first, exactly opposite to the direction of his true course, intending to make a wide sweep out to sea, and thus get unobserved to the northward of the place where the slaver's dhow was supposed to be lying, in time to intercept it. Yoosoof, from a neighbouring height watched the manoeuvre, and thoroughly understood it. When the vessel had disappeared into the shades of night that brooded over the sea, he smiled calmly, and in a placid frame of mind betook himself to his lair in the creek beside the mangrove trees. He found Harold Seadrift and Disco Lillihammer in the hut, somewhat impatient of his prolonged absence, and a dozen of his men looking rather suspiciously at the strangers. "Is all ready, Moosa?" he inquired of a powerful man, half-Portuguese, half-negro in appearance, who met him outside the door of the hut. "All ready," replied the half-caste, in a gruff tone of voice, "but what are you going to do with these English brutes?" "Take them with us, of course," replied Yoosoof. "For what end?" "For our own safety. Why, don't you see, Moosa, that if we had set them free, they might have discovered the town and given information to the cruiser about us, which would have been awkward? We might now, indeed, set them free, for the cruiser is gone, but I still have good reason for wishing to take them with me. They think that we have but _one_ boat in this creek, and I should like to make use of them for the purpose of propagating that false idea. I have had the good luck while in the town to find an opportunity of giving one of the sailors of the cruiser a little information as to my movements--some of it true, some of it false--which will perhaps do us a service." The Arab smiled slightly as he said this. "Do these men know our trade?" asked Moosa. "I think they suspect it," answered Yoosoof. "And what if they be not willing to go with us?" demanded Moosa. "Can twelve men not manage two?" asked the Arab. Dark though the night had become by that time, there was sufficient light to gleam on the teeth that Moosa exposed on receiving this reply. "Now, Moosa, we must be prompt," continued Yoosoof; "let some of you get round behind the Englishmen, and have the slave-chains handy. Keep your eye on me while I talk with them; if they are refractory, a nod shall be the signal." Entering the hut Yoosoof informed Harold that it was now time to set sail. "Good, we are ready," said Harold, rising, "but tell me one thing before my comrade and I agree to go with you,--tell us honestly if you are engaged in the slave-trade." A slight smile curled the Arab's thin lip as he replied--"If I be a slave-trader, I cannot speak honestly, so you Engleesh think. But I do tell you--yes, I am." "Then, I tell _you_ honestly," said Harold, "that I won't go with you. I'll have nothing to do with slavers." "Them's my sentiments to a tee," said Disco, with emphasis, thumping his left palm as usual with his right fist, by way of sheating his remark home--to use his own words. "But you will both perish on this uninhabited coast," said Yoosoof. "So be it," replied Harold; "I had rather run the risk of starving than travel in company with slave-traders. Besides, I doubt the truth of what you say. There must be several villages not very far off, if my information in regard to the coast be not altogether wrong." Yoosoof waited for no more. He nodded to Moosa, who instantly threw a noose round Harold's arms, and drew it tight. The same operation was performed for Disco, by a stout fellow who stood behind him, and almost before they realised what had occurred, they were seized by a number of men. It must not be supposed that two able-bodied Englishmen quietly submitted at once to this sort of treatment. On the contrary, a struggle ensued that shook the walls of the little hut so violently as almost to bring it down upon the heads of the combatants. The instant that Harold felt the rough clasp of Moosa's arms, he bent himself forward with such force as to fling that worthy completely over his head, and lay him flat on the floor, but two of the other slavers seized Harold's arms, a third grasped him round the waist, and a fourth rapidly secured the ropes that had been thrown around him. Disco's mode of action, although somewhat different was quite as vigorous. On being grasped he uttered a deep roar of surprise and rage, and, raising his foot, struck out therewith at a man who advanced to seize him in front. The kick not only tumbled the man over a low bench and drove his head against the wall, but it caused the kicker himself to recoil on his foes behind with such force that they all fell on the floor together, when by their united weight the slavers managed to crush the unfortunate Disco, not, indeed, into submission, but into inaction. His tongue, however, not being tied, continued to pour forth somewhat powerful epithets, until Harold very strongly advised him to cease. "If you want to retain a whole skin," he said, "you had better keep a quiet tongue." "P'raps you're right sir," said Disco, after a moment's consideration, "but it ain't easy to shut up in the succumstances." After they had thoroughly secured the Englishmen, the traders led them down the bank of the creek to the spot where the dhow was moored. In the dark it appeared to Harold and his companion to be the same dhow, but this was not so. The boat by which they had crossed the creek had been removed up the water, and its place was now occupied by the dhow into which had been put the maimed and worn-out slaves of the band whose arrival we have described. The hold of the little vessel was very dark, nevertheless there was light enough to enable the Englishmen to guess that the rows of black objects just perceptible within it were slaves. If they had entertained any uncertainty on this point, the odour that saluted them as they passed to the stern would have quickly dispelled their doubts. It was evident from the manner of the slavers that they did not now fear discovery, because they talked loudly as they pushed off and rowed away. Soon they were out of the creek, and the roar of breakers was heard. Much caution was displayed in guiding the dhow through these, for the channel was narrow, and darkness rendered its position almost indiscernible. At last the sail was hoisted, the boat bent over to a smart breeze, and held away in a north-easterly direction. As the night wore on this breeze became lighter, and, most of the crew being asleep, deep silence prevailed on board the slave-dhow, save that, ever and anon, a pitiful wail, as of a sick child, or a convulsive sob, issued from the hold. Harold and Disco sat beside each other in the stern, with an armed half-caste on each side, and Yoosoof in front. Their thoughts were busy enough at first, but neither spoke to the other. As the night advanced both fell into an uneasy slumber. When Harold awoke, the grey dawn was beginning to break in the east and there was sufficient light to render objects dimly visible. At first he scarcely recollected where he was, but the pain caused by the ropes that bound him soon refreshed his memory. Casting his eyes quickly towards the hold, his heart sank within him at the sight he there beheld. Yoosoof's Black Ivory was not of the best quality, but there was a good deal of it, which rendered judicious packing necessary. So many of his gang had become worthless as an article of trade, through suffering on the way down to the coast, that the boat could scarce contain them all. They were packed sitting on their haunches in rows each with his knees close to his chin, and all jammed so tightly together that none could rise up or lie down. Men, women, and little children sat in this position with an expression of indescribable hopelessness and apathy on their faces. The infants, of which there were several, lay motionless on their mothers' shrunken breasts. God help them! they were indeed utterly worthless as pieces of merchandise. The long journey and hard treatment had worn all of them to mere skin and bone, and many were suffering from bad sores caused by the slave-irons and the unmerciful application of the lash. No one knew better than Yoosoof that this was his "damaged stock"--hopelessly damaged, and he meant to make the best use he could of it. The sun arose in all its splendour, and revealed more clearly to the horrified Englishmen all the wretchedness of the hold, but for a considerable time they did not speak. The circumstances in which they found themselves seemed to have bereft them of the faculty of speech. The morning advanced, and Yoosoof with his men, took a frugal breakfast, but they did not offer any to Harold or Disco. As these unfortunates had, however, supped heartily, they did not mind that. So much could not have been said for the slaves. They had received their last meal of uncooked rice and water, a very insufficient one, about thirty-six hours before, and as they watched the traders at breakfast, their glaring eyes told eloquently of their sufferings. Had these been Yoosoof's valuable stock, his undamaged goods, he would have given them a sufficiency of food to have kept them up to condition as long as he possessed them; but being what they were, a very little drop of water and a few grains of raw rice at noon was deemed sufficient to prevent absolute starvation. "How can you have the heart," said Harold at last turning to Yoosoof, "to treat these poor creatures so cruelly?" Yoosoof shrugged his shoulders. "My fader treat them so; I follow my fader's footsteps." "But have you no pity for them? Don't you think they have hearts and feelings like ourselves?" returned Harold earnestly. "No," replied the Arab coldly. "They have no feelings. Hard as the stone. They care not for mother, or child, or husband. Only brutes-- cattle." Harold was so disgusted with this reply that he relapsed into silence. Towards the afternoon, while the dhow was running close in-shore, a vessel hove in sight on the horizon. A few minutes sufficed to show that it was a steamer. It was of course observed and closely watched by the slave-dealers as well as by Harold Seadrift and Disco Lillihammer, who became sanguinely hopeful that it might turn out to be a British man-of-war. Had they known that Yoosoof was equally anxious and hopeful on that point they would have been much surprised; but the wily Arab pretended to be greatly alarmed, and when the Union Jack became clearly visible his excitement increased. He gave some hurried orders to his men, who laughed sarcastically as they obeyed them. "Yoosoof," said Harold, with a slight feeling of exultation, "your plans seem about to miscarry!" "No, they not miscarry yet," replied the Arab, with a grim smile. "Tell me, Yoosoof," resumed Harold, prompted by strong curiosity, "why have you carried us off bound in this fashion?" Another smile, more grim than the former, crossed the Arab's visage as he replied--"Me carry you off 'cause that sheep," pointing to the steamer, "lie not two mile off, near to town of Governor Letotti, when I first met you. We not want you to let thems know 'bout us, so I carry you off, and I bind you 'cause you strong." "Ha! that's plain and reasonable," returned Harold, scarce able to restrain a laugh at the man's cool impudence. "But it would appear that some one else has carried the news; so, you see, you have been outwitted after all." "Perhaps. We shall see," replied the Arab, with something approaching to a chuckle. Altering the course of the boat, Yoosoof now ran her somewhat off the shore, as if with a view to get round a headland that lay to the northward. This evidently drew the attention of the steamer--which was none other than the "Firefly"--for she at once altered her course and ran in-shore, so as to intercept the dhow. Seeing this, Yoosoof turned back and made for the land at a place where there was a long line of breakers close to the shore. To run amongst these seemed to be equivalent to running on certain destruction, nevertheless the Arab held on, with compressed lips and a frowning brow. Yoosoof looked quite like a man who would rather throw away his life than gratify his enemy, and the Englishmen, who were fully alive to their danger, began to feel rather uneasy--which was a very pardonable sensation, when it is remembered that their arms being fast bound, rendered them utterly unable to help themselves in case of the boat capsizing. The "Firefly" was by this time near enough to hold converse with the dhow through the medium of artillery. Soon a puff of white smoke burst from her bow, and a round-shot dropped a few yards astern of the boat. "That's a broad hint, my lad, so you'd better give in," said Lillihammer, scarce able to suppress a look of triumph. Yoosoof paid not the slightest attention to the remark, but held on his course. "Surely you don't intend to risk the lives of these poor creatures in such a surf?" said Harold anxiously; "weak and worn as they are, their doom is sealed if we capsize." Still the Arab paid no attention, but continued to gaze steadily at the breakers. Harold, turning his eyes in the same direction, observed something like a narrow channel running through them. He was enough of a seaman to understand that only one who was skilled in such navigation could pass in safety. "They're lowering a boat," said Disco, whose attention was engrossed by the manoeuvres of the "Firefly." Soon the boat left the side of the vessel, which was compelled to check her speed for fear of running on the reef. Another gun was fired as she came round, and the shot dropped right in front of the dhow, sending a column of water high into the air. Still Yoosoof held on until close to the breakers, when, to the surprise of the Englishmen, he suddenly threw the boat's head into the wind. "You can steer," he said sternly to Disco. "Come, take the helm an' go to your ship; or, if you choose, go on the breakers." He laughed fiercely as he said this, and next moment plunged into the sea, followed by his crew. Disco, speechless with amazement, rose up and sprang to the helm. Of course he could not use his bound hands, but one of his legs answered almost as well. He allowed the boat to come round until the sail filled on the other tack, and then looking back, saw the heads of the Arabs as they swam through the channel and made for the shore. In a few minutes they gained it, and, after uttering a shout of defiance, ran up into the bushes and disappeared. Meanwhile the "Firefly's" boat made straight for the dhow, and was soon near enough to hail. "Heave-to," cried an interpreter in Arabic. "Speak your own mother tongue and I'll answer ye," replied Disco. "Heave-to, or I'll sink you," shouted Mr Small, who was in charge. "I'm just agoin' to do it, sir," replied Disco, running the dhow into the wind until the sail shook. Another moment and the boat was alongside. "Jump aboard and handle the sail, lads; I can't help 'ee no further," said Disco. The invitation was unnecessary. The moment the two boats touched, the blue-jackets swarmed on board, cutlass in hand, and took possession. "Why, what!--where did _you_ come from?" asked the lieutenant, looking in profound astonishment at Harold and his companion. "We are Englishmen, as you see," replied Harold, unable to restrain a smile; "we have been wrecked and caught by the villains who have just escaped you." "I see--well, no time for talking just now; cut them loose, Jackson. Make fast the sheet--now then." In a few minutes the dhow ranged up alongside the "Firefly," and our heroes, with the poor slaves, were quickly transferred to the man-of-war's deck, where Harold told his tale to Captain Romer. As we have already stated, there were a number of slaves on board the "Firefly," which had been rescued from various Arab dhows. The gang now received on board made their numbers so great that it became absolutely necessary to run to the nearest port to discharge them. We have already remarked on the necessity that lies on our cruisers, when overladen with rescued slaves, to run to a distant port of discharge to land them; and on the readiness of the slave-traders to take advantage of their opportunity, and run north with full cargoes with impunity when some of the cruisers are absent; for it is not possible for a small fleet to guard upwards of a thousand miles of coast effectually, or even, in any degree, usefully. If we possessed a port of discharge--a British station and settlement--on the mainland of the east coast of Africa, this difficulty would not exist. As it is, although we place several men-of-war on a station, the evil will not be cured, for just in proportion as these are successful in making captures, will arise the necessity of their leaving the station for weeks at a time unguarded. Thus it fell out on the occasion of which we write. The presence of the large slave-freight on board the man-of-war was intolerable. Captain Romer was compelled to hurry off to the Seychelles Islands. He sailed with the monsoon, but had to steam back against it. During this period another vessel, similarly freighted, had to run to discharge at Aden. The seas were thus comparatively clear of cruisers. The Arabs seized their opportunity, and a stream of dhows and larger vessels swept out from the various creeks and ports all along the East African coast, filled to overflowing with slaves. Among these were the four large dhows of our friend Yoosoof. Having, as we have seen, made a slight sacrifice of damaged and unsaleable goods and chattels, in order to clear the way, he proceeded north, touching at various ports where he filled up his living cargo, and finally got clear off, not with goods damaged beyond repair, but with thousands of the sons and daughters of Africa in their youthful prime. In the interior each man cost him about four yards of cotton cloth, worth a few pence; each woman three yards, and each child two yards, and of course in cases where he stole them, they cost him nothing. On the coast these would sell at from 8 pounds to 12 pounds each, and in Arabia at from 20 pounds to 40 pounds. We mention this to show what strong inducement there was for Yoosoof to run a good deal of risk in carrying on this profitable and accursed traffic. But you must not fancy, good reader, that what we have described is given as a specimen of the _extent_ to which the slave-trade on that coast is carried. It is but as a specimen of the _manner_ thereof. It is certainly within the mark to say that at least thirty thousand natives are annually carried away as slaves from the east coast of Africa. Sir Bartle Frere, in addressing a meeting of the chief native inhabitants of Bombay in April 1873, said,--"Let me assure you, in conclusion, that what you have heard of the horrors of the slave-trade is in no way exaggerated. We have seen so much of the horrors which were going on that we can have no doubt that what you read in books, which are so often spoken of as containing exaggerations, is exaggerated in no respect. The evil is much greater than anything you can conceive. Among the poorer class of Africans there is nothing like security from fathers and mothers being put to death in order that their children may be captured;"--and, referring to the _east coast alone_, he says that--"thirty thousand, or more, human beings, are exported every year from Africa." Dr Livingstone tells us that, on the average, about one out of every five captured human beings reaches the coast alive. The other four perish or are murdered on the way, so that the thirty thousand annually exported, as stated by Sir Bartle Frere, represents a loss of 150,000 human beings _annually_ from the east coast alone, altogether irrespective of the enormous and constant flow of slaves to the north by way of the White Nile and Egypt. Yoosoof's venture was therefore but a drop in the vast river of blood which is drained annually from poor Africa's veins--blood which flows at the present time as copiously and constantly as it ever did in the days of old--blood which cries aloud to God for vengeance, and for the flow of which _we_, as a nation, are far from blameless. CHAPTER FOUR. IN WHICH OUR HEROES SEE STRANGE SIGHTS AT ZANZIBAR, AND RESOLVE UPON TAKING A BOLD STEP. Before proceeding to the Seychelles, the `Firefly' touched at the island of Zanzibar, and there landed our hero Harold Seadrift and his comrade in misfortune, Disco Lillihammer. Here, one brilliant afternoon, the two friends sat down under a palm-tree to hold what Disco called a palaver. The spot commanded a fine view of the town and harbour of Zanzibar. We repeat that the afternoon was brilliant, but it is right to add that it required an African body and mind fully to appreciate the pleasures of it. The sun's rays were blistering, the heat was intense, and the air was stifling. Harold lay down and gasped, Disco followed his example, and sighed. After a few minutes spent in a species of imbecile contemplation of things in general, the latter raised himself to a sitting posture, and proceeded slowly to fill and light his pipe. Harold was no smoker, but he derived a certain dreamy enjoyment from gazing at Disco, and wondering how he could smoke in such hot weather. "We'll get used to it I s'pose, like the eels," observed Disco, when the pipe was in full blast. "Of course we shall," replied Harold; "and now that we have come to an anchor, let me explain the project which has been for some days maturing in my mind." "All right; fire away, sir," said the sailor, blowing a long thin cloud from his lips. "You are aware," said Harold, "that I came out here as supercargo of my father's vessel," (Disco nodded), "but you are not aware that my chief object in coming was to see a little of the world in general, and of the African part of it in particular. Since my arrival you and I have seen a few things, which have opened up my mind in regard to slavery; we have now been a fortnight in this town, and my father's agent has enlightened me still further on the subject, insomuch that I now feel within me an intense desire to make an excursion into the interior of Africa; indeed, I have resolved to do so, for the purpose of seeing its capabilities in a commercial point of view, of observing how the slave-trade is conducted at its fountain-head, and of enjoying a little of the scenery and the sport peculiar to this land of Ham." "W'y, you speaks like a book, sir," said Disco, emitting a prolonged puff, "an' it ain't for the likes me to give an opinion on that there; but if I may make bold to ax, sir, how do you mean to travel--on the back of a elephant or a ry-noceris?--for it seems to me that there ain't much in the shape o' locomotives or 'busses hereabouts--not even cabs." "I shall go in a canoe," replied Harold; "but my reason for broaching the subject just now is, that I may ask if you are willing to go with me." "There's no occasion to ax that sir; I'm your man--north or south, east or west, it's all the same to me. I've bin born to roll about the world, and it matters little whether I rolls ashore or afloat--though I prefers the latter." "Well, then, that's settled," said Harold, with a look of satisfaction; "I have already arranged with our agent here to advance me what I require in the way of funds, and shall hire men and canoes when we get down to the Zambesi--" "The Zam-wot, sir?" "The Zambesi; did you never hear of it before?" "Never, nor don't know wot it is, sir." "It is a river; one of the largest on the east coast, which has been well described by Dr Livingstone, that greatest of travellers, whose chief object in travelling is, as he himself says, to raise the negroes out of their present degraded condition, and free them from the curse of slavery." "That's the man to _my_ mind," said Disco emphatically; "good luck to him.--But w'en d'you mean to start for the Zambizzy, sir?" "In a few days. It will take that time to get everything ready, and our money packed." "Our money packed!" echoed the sailor, with a look of surprise, "w'y, wot d'ye mean!" "Just what I say. The money current in the interior of Africa is rather cumbrous, being neither more nor less than goods. You'll never guess what sort--try." "Rum," said Disco. "No." "Pipes and 'baccy." Harold shook his head. "Never could guess nothin'," said Disco, replacing the pipe, which he had removed for a few moments from his lips; "I gives it up." "What would you say to cotton cloth, and thick brass wire, and glass beads, being the chief currency in Central Africa?" said Harold. "You don't mean it, sir?" "Indeed I do, and as these articles must be carried in large quantities, if we mean to travel far into the land, there will be more bales and coils than you and I could well carry in our waistcoat pockets." "That's true, sir," replied Disco, looking earnestly at a couple of negro slaves who chanced to pass along the neighbouring footpath at that moment, singing carelessly. "Them poor critters don't seem to be so miserable after all." "That is because the nigger is naturally a jolly, light-hearted fellow," said Harold, "and when his immediate and more pressing troubles are removed he accommodates himself to circumstances, and sings, as you hear. If these fellows were to annoy their masters and get a thrashing, you'd hear them sing in another key. The evils of most things don't show on the surface. You must get behind the scenes to understand them. You and I have already had one or two peeps behind the scenes." "We have indeed, sir," replied Disco, frowning, and closing his fists involuntarily, as he thought of Yoosoof and the dhow. "Now, then," said Harold, rising, as Disco shook the ashes out of his little black pipe, and placed that beloved implement in the pocket of his coat, "let us return to the harbour, and see what chance there is of getting a passage to the Zambesi, in an honest trading dhow--if there is such a thing in Zanzibar." On their way to the harbour they had to pass through the slave-market. This was not the first time they had visited the scene of this iniquitous traffic, but neither Harold nor Disco could accustom themselves to it. Every time they entered the market their feelings of indignation became so intense that it was with the utmost difficulty they could control them. When Disco saw handsome negro men and good-looking girls put up for public sale,--their mouths rudely opened, and their teeth examined by cool, calculating Arabs, just as if they had been domestic cattle--his spirit boiled within him, his fingers tingled, and he felt a terrible inclination to make a wild attack, single-handed, on the entire population of Zanzibar, though he might perish in the execution of vengeance and the relief of his feelings! We need scarcely add that his discretion saved him. They soon reached the small square in which the market was held. Here they saw a fine-looking young woman sold to a grave elderly Arab for a sum equal to about eight pounds sterling. Passing hastily on, they observed another "lot," a tall stalwart man, having his various "points" examined, and stopped to see the result. His owner, thinking, perhaps, that he seemed a little sluggish in his movements, raised his whip and caused it to fall upon his flank with such vigour that the poor fellow, taken by surprise, leaped high into the air, and uttered a yell of pain. The strength and activity of the man were unquestionable, and he soon found a purchaser. But all the slaves were not fine-looking or stalwart like the two just referred to. Many of them were most miserable objects. Some stood, others were seated as if incapable of standing, so emaciated were they. Not a few were mere skeletons, with life and skin. Near the middle of the square, groups of children were arranged--some standing up to be inspected, others sitting down. These ranged from five years and upwards, but there was not one that betrayed the slightest tendency to mirth, and Disco came to the conclusion that negro children do not play, but afterwards discovered his mistake, finding that their exuberant jollity "at home" was not less than that of the children of other lands. These little slaves had long ago been terrified, and beaten, and starved into listless, apathetic and silent creatures. Further on, a row of young women attracted their attention. They were ranged in a semicircle, all nearly in a state of nudity, waiting to be sold. A group of Arabs stood in front of them, conversing. One of these women looked such a picture of woe that Disco felt irresistibly impelled to stop. There were no tears in her eyes; the fountain appeared to have been dried up, but, apparently, without abating the grief which was stamped in deep lines on her young countenance, and which burst frequently from her breast in convulsive sobs. Our Englishmen were not only shocked but surprised at this woman's aspect, for their experience had hitherto gone to show that the slaves usually became callous under their sufferings. Whatever of humanity might have originally belonged to them seemed to have been entirely driven out of them by the cruelties and indignities they had so long suffered at the hands of their captors. [See Captain Sulivan's _Dhow-chasing in Zanzibar Waters_, page 252.] "Wot's the matter with her, poor thing?" asked Disco of a half-caste Portuguese, dressed in something like the garb of a sailor. "Oh, notting," answered the man in broken English, with a look of indifference, "she have lose her chile, dat all." "Lost her child? how--wot d'ee mean?" "Dey hab sole de chile," replied the man; "was good fat boy, 'bout two-yer ole. S'pose she hab carry him for months troo de woods, an' over de hills down to coast, an' tink she keep him altogether. But she mistake. One trader come here 'bout one hour past. He want boy--not want modder; so he buy de chile. Modder fight a littil at first, but de owner soon make her quiet. Oh, it notting at all. She cry a littil-- soon forget her chile, an' get all right." "Come, I can't stand this," exclaimed Harold, hastening away. Disco said nothing, but to the amazement of the half-caste, he grasped him by the collar, and hurled him aside with a degree of force that caused him to stagger and fall with stunning violence to the ground. Disco then strode away after his friend, his face and eyes blazing with various emotions, among which towering indignation predominated. In a few minutes they reached the harbour, and, while making inquiries as to the starting of trading dhows for the south, they succeeded in calming their feelings down to something like their ordinary condition. The harbour was crowded with dhows of all shapes and sizes, most of them laden with slaves, some discharging cargoes for the Zanzibar market, others preparing to sail, under protection of a pass from the Sultan, for Lamoo, which is the northern limit of the Zanzibar dominions, and, therefore, of the so-called "domestic" slave-trade. There would be something particularly humorous in the barefacedness of this august Sultan of Zanzibar, if it were connected with anything less horrible than slavery. For instance, there is something almost amusing in the fact that dhows were sailing every day for Lamoo with hundreds of slaves, although that small town was known to be very much overstocked at the time. It was also quite entertaining to know that the commanders of the French and English war-vessels lying in the harbour at the time were aware of this, and that the Sultan knew it, and that, in short, everybody knew it, but that nobody appeared to have the power to prevent it! Even the Sultan who granted the permits or passes to the owners of the dhows, although he _professed_ to wish to check the slave-trade, could not prevent it. Wasn't that strange--wasn't it curious? The Sultan derived by far the largest portion of his revenue from the tax levied on the export of slaves--amounting to somewhere about 10,000 pounds a year--but _that_ had nothing to do with it of course not, oh dear no! Then there was another very ludicrous phase of this oriental, not to say transcendental, potentate's barefacedness. He knew, and probably admitted, that about 2000, some say 4000, slaves a year were sufficient to meet the home-consumption of that commodity, and he also knew, but probably did not admit, that not fewer than 30,000 slaves were annually exported from Zanzibar to meet this requirement of 4000! These are very curious specimens of miscalculation which this barefaced Sultan seems to have fallen into. Perhaps he was a bad arithmetician. [See Captain Sulivan's _Dhow-chasing in Zanzibar Water_; page 111.] We have said that this state of things _was_ so at the time of our story, but we may now add that it still _is_ so in this year of grace 1873. Whether it shall continue to be so remains to be seen! Having spent some time in fruitless inquiry, Harold and Disco at last to their satisfaction, discovered an Arab dhow of known good character, which was on the point of starting for the Zambesi in the course of a few days, for the purpose of legitimate traffic. It therefore became necessary that our hero should make his purchases and preparations with all possible speed. In this he was entirely guided by his father's agent, a merchant of the town, who understood thoroughly what was necessary for the intended journey. It is not needful here to enter into full details, suffice it to say that among the things purchased by Harold, and packed up in portable form, were a number of bales of common unbleached cotton, which is esteemed above everything by the natives of Africa as an article of dress--if we may dignify by the name of dress the little piece, about the size of a moderate petticoat, which is the only clothing of some, or the small scrap round the loins which is the sole covering of other, natives of the interior! There were also several coils of thick brass wire, which is much esteemed by them for making bracelets and anklets; and a large quantity of beads of various colours, shapes, and sizes. Of beads, we are told, between five and six hundred tons are annually manufactured in Great Britain for export to Africa. Thus supplied, our two friends embarked in the dhow and set sail. Wind and weather were propitious. In few days they reached the mouths of the great river Zambesi, and landed at the port of Quillimane. Only once on the voyage did they fall in with a British cruiser, which ordered them to lay-to and overhauled them, but on the papers and everything being found correct, they were permitted to pursue their voyage. The mouths of the river Zambesi are numerous; extending over more than ninety miles of the coast. On the banks of the northern mouth stands-- it would be more appropriate to say festers--the dirty little Portuguese town of Quillimane. Its site is low, muddy, fever-haunted, and swarming with mosquitoes. No man in his senses would have built a village thereon were it not for the facilities afforded for slaving. At spring or flood tides the bar may be safely crossed by sailing vessels, but, being far from land, it is always dangerous for boats. Here, then, Harold and Disco landed, and remained for some time for the purpose of engaging men. Appearing in the character of independent travellers, they were received with some degree of hospitality by the principal inhabitants. Had they gone there as simple and legitimate traders, every possible difficulty would have been thrown in their way, because the worthy people, from the Governor downwards, flourished,--or festered,--by means of the slave-trade, and legitimate commerce is everywhere found to be destructive to the slave-trade. Dr Livingstone and others tell us that thousands upon thousands of negroes have, of late years, gone out from Quillimane into slavery under the convenient title of "free emigrants," their freedom being not quite equal to that of a carter's horse, for while that animal, although enslaved, is usually well fed, the human animal is kept on rather low diet lest his spirit should rouse him to deeds of desperate violence against his masters. All agricultural enterprise is also effectually discouraged here. When a man wants to visit his country farm he has to purchase a permit from the Governor. If he wishes to go up the river to the Portuguese towns of Senna or Tette, a pass must be purchased from the Governor. In fact it would weary the reader were we to enumerate the various modes in which every effort of man to act naturally, legitimately, or progressively, is hampered, unless his business be the buying and selling of human beings. At first Harold experienced great difficulty in procuring men. The master of the trading dhow in which he sailed from Zanzibar intended to remain as short a time as possible at Quillimane, purposing to visit ports further south, and as Harold had made up his mind not to enter the Zambesi by the Quillimane mouth, but to proceed in the dhow to one of the southern mouths, he felt tempted to give up the idea of procuring men until he had gone further south. "You see, Disco," said he, in a somewhat disconsolate tone, "it won't do to let this dhow start without us, because I want to get down to the East Luavo mouth of this river, that being the mouth which was lately discovered and entered by Dr Livingstone; but I'm not sure that we can procure men or canoes there, and our Arab skipper either can't or won't enlighten me." "Ah!" observed Disco, with a knowing look, "he won't--that's where it is, sir. I've not a spark o' belief in that man, or in any Arab on the coast. He's a slaver in disguise, he is, an' so's every mother's son of 'em." "Well," continued Harold, "if we must start without them and take our chance, we must; there is no escaping from the inevitable; nevertheless we must exert ourselves _to-day_, because the dhow does not sail till to-morrow evening, and there is no saying what luck may attend our efforts before that time. Perseverance, you know, is the only sure method of conquering difficulties." "That's so," said Disco; "them's my sentiments 'xactly. Never say die-- Stick at nothing--Nail yer colours to the mast: them's the mottoes that I goes in for--always s'posin' that you're in the right." "But what if you're in the wrong, and the colours are nailed?" asked Harold, with a smile. "W'y then, sir, of course I'd have to tear 'em down." "So that perhaps, it would be better not to nail them at all, unless you're very sure--eh?" "Oh, of _course_, sir," replied Disco, with solemn emphasis. "You don't suppose, sir, that I would nail 'em to the mast except I was sure, wery sure, that I wos right? But, as you wos a sayin', sir, about the gittin' of them 'ere men." Disco had an easy way of changing a subject when he felt that he was getting out of his depth. "Well, to return to that. The fact is, I would not mind the men, for it's likely that men of some sort will turn up somewhere, but I am very anxious about an interpreter. Without an interpreter we shall get on badly, I fear, for I can only speak French, besides a very little Latin and Greek, none of which languages will avail much among niggers." Disco assumed a severely thoughtful expression of countenance. "That's true," he said, placing his right fist argumentatively in his left palm, "and I'm afeard I can't help you there, sir. If it wos to steer a ship or pull a oar or man the fore-tops'l yard in a gale o' wind, or anything else in the seafarin' line, Disco Lillihammer's your man, but I couldn't come a furrin' lingo at no price. I knows nothin' but my mother tongue,--nevertheless, though I says it that shouldn't, I does profess to be somewhat of a dab at that. Once upon a time I spent six weeks in Dublin, an' havin' a quick ear for moosic, I soon managed to get up a strong dash o' the brogue; but p'raps that wouldn't go far with the niggers." About two hours after the above conversation, while Harold Seadrift was walking on the beach, he observed his faithful ally in the distance grasping a short thickset man by the arm, and endeavouring to induce him to accompany him, with a degree of energy that fell little short of main force. The man was evidently unwilling. As the pair drew nearer, Harold overheard Disco's persuasive voice:--"Come now, Antonio, don't be a fool; it's the best service you could enter. Good pay and hard work, and all the grub that's goin'-- what could a man want more? It's true there's no grog, but we don't need that in a climate where you've only got to go out in the sun without yer hat an' you'll be as good as drunk in ten minutes, any day." "No, no, not possibil," remonstrated the man, whose swarthy visage betrayed a mixture of cunning, fun, and annoyance. He was obviously a half-caste of the lowest type, but with more pretensions to wealth than many of his fellows, inasmuch as he wore, besides his loin-cloth, a white cotton shooting-coat, very much soiled, beneath the tails of which his thin black legs protruded ridiculously. "Here you are, sir," cried Disco, as he came up; "here's the man for lingo: knows the native talkee, as well as Portuguese, English, Arabic, and anything else you like, as far as I know. Antonio's his name. Come, sir, try him with Greek, or somethin' o' that sort!" Harold had much ado to restrain a smile, but, assuming a grave aspect, he addressed the man in French, while Disco listened with a look of profound respect and admiration. "W'y, wot's wrong with 'ee, man," exclaimed Disco, on observing the blank look of Antonio's countenance; "don't 'ee savay that?" "I thought you understood Portuguese?" said Harold in English. "So me do," replied Antonio quickly; "but dat no Portigeese--dat Spanaish, me 'spose." "What _can_ you speak, then?" demanded Harold sternly. "Portigeese, Arbik, Fengleesh, an' two, tree, four, nigger lungwiches." It was very obvious that, whatever Antonio spoke, he spoke nothing correctly, but that was of no importance so long as the man could make himself understood. Harold therefore asked if he would join his party as interpreter, but Antonio shook his head. "Why not man--why not?" asked Harold impatiently, for he became anxious to secure him, just in proportion as he evinced disinclination to engage. "Speak up, Antonio, don't be ashamed; you've no need to," said Disco. "The fact is, sir, Antonio tells me that he has just bin married, an' he don't want to leave his wife." "Very natural," observed Harold. "How long is it since you were married?" "Von veek since I did bought her." "Bought her!" exclaimed Disco, with a broad grin; "may I ax wot ye paid for her?" "Paid!" exclaimed the man, starting and opening his eyes very wide, as if the contemplation of the vast sum were too much for him; "lat me zee--me pay me vife's pairyints sixteen yard ob cottin clothe, an' for me's hut four yard morer." "Ye don't say that?" exclaimed Disco, with an extended grin. "Is she young an' good-lookin'?" "Yonge!" replied Antonio; "yis, ver' yonge; not mush more dan baby, an' exiquitely bootiful." "Then, my good feller," said Disco, with a laugh, "the sooner you leave her the better. A week is a long time, an' absence, you know, as the old song says, makes the heart grow fonder; besides, Mr Seadrift will give you enough to buy a dozen wives, if 'ee want 'em." "Yes, I'll pay you well," said Harold; "that is, if you prove to be a good interpreter." Antonio pricked up his ears at this. "How mush vill 'oo gif?" he asked. "Well, let me think; I shall probably be away three or four months. What would you say, Antonio, to twenty yards of cotton cloth a month, and a gun into the bargain at the end, if you do your work well?" The pleased expression of Antonio's face could not have been greater had he been offered twenty pounds sterling a month. The reader may estimate the value of this magnificent offer when we say that a yard of cotton cloth was at that time sevenpence-halfpenny, so that Antonio's valuable services were obtained for about 12 shillings, 6 pence a month, and a gun which cost Harold less than twenty shillings in Zanzibar. We may remark here that Antonio afterwards proved to be a stout, able, willing man, and a faithful servant, although a most arrant coward. From this time Harold's difficulties in regard to men vanished. With Antonio's able assistance nine were procured, stout, young, able-bodied fellows they were, and all more or less naked. Two of these were half-caste brothers, named respectively Jose and Oliveira; two were half-wild negroes of the Somali tribe named Nakoda and Conda; three were negroes of the Makololo tribe, who had accompanied Dr Livingstone on his journey from the far interior of Africa to the East Coast, and were named respectively Jumbo, Zombo, and Masiko; and finally two, named Songolo and Mabruki, were free negroes of Quillimane. Thus the whole band, including Disco and the leader, formed a goodly company of twelve stout men. Of course Harold armed them all with guns and knives. Himself and Disco carried Enfield rifles; besides which, Harold took with him a spare rifle of heavy calibre, carrying large balls, mingled with tin to harden them. This latter was intended for large game. Landing near the East Luavo mouth of the Zambesi, our hero was fortunate enough to procure two serviceable canoes, into which he transferred himself, his men, and his goods, and, bidding adieu to the Arab skipper of the dhow, commenced his journey into the interior of Africa. CHAPTER FIVE. IN WHICH THE TRAVELLERS ENJOY THEMSELVES EXTREMELY, AND DISCO LILLIHAMMER SEES SEVERAL ASTONISHING SIGHTS. Behold our travellers, then, fairly embarked on the waters of the great African river Zambesi, in two canoes, one of which is commanded by Harold Seadrift, the other by Disco Lillihammer. Of course these enterprising chiefs were modest enough at first to allow two of the Makololo men, Jumbo and Zombo, to wield the steering-oars, but after a few days' practice they became sufficiently expert, as Disco said, to take the helm, except when strong currents rendered the navigation difficult, or when the weather became so "piping hot" that none but men clad in black skins could work. We must however guard the reader here from supposing that it is always piping hot in Africa. There are occasional days when the air may be styled lukewarm, when the sky is serene, and when all nature seems joyful and enjoyable,--days in which a man opens his mouth wide and swallows down the atmosphere; when he _feels_ his health and strength, and rejoices in them, and when, if he be not an infidel, he also feels a sensation of gratitude to the Giver of all good. On such a day, soon after entering the East Luavo mouth of the Zambesi, the explorers, for such we may almost venture to style them, ascended the smooth stream close to the left bank, Harold leading, Disco following closely in his wake. The men rowed gently, as if they enjoyed the sweet calm of early morning, and were unwilling to disturb the innumerable flocks of wild-fowl that chuckled among the reeds and sedges everywhere. Harold sat in the stern, leaning back, and only dipping the steering-oar lazily now and then to keep the canoe from running on the bank, or plunging into a forest of gigantic rushes. Disco, having resolved to solace himself with a whiff of his darling pipe, had resigned "the helm" to Jumbo, and laid himself in a position of comfort which admitted of his resting his head on the gunwale in such a manner that, out of the corners of his eyes, he could gaze down into the water. The part of the river they had reached was so perfectly still that every cloud in the sky, every mangrove, root and spray, and every bending bulrush, was perfectly reproduced in the reflected world below. Plaintive cries of wild-fowl formed appropriate melody, to which chattering groups of monkeys and croaking bull-frogs contributed a fine tenor and bass. "Hallo, Disco!" exclaimed Harold in a subdued key, looking over his shoulder. "Ay, ay, sir?" sighed the seaman, without moving his position. "Range up alongside; I want to speak to you." "Ay, ay, sir.--Jumbo, you black-faced villain, d'ee hear that? give way and go 'longside." Good-humoured Jumbo _spoke_ very little English, but had come to understand a good deal during his travels with Dr Livingstone. He wrinkled his visage and showed his brilliant teeth on receiving the order. Muttering a word to the men, and giving a vigorous stroke, he shot up alongside of the leader's canoe. "You seem comfortable," said Harold, with a laugh, as Disco's vast visage appeared at his elbow. "I is." "Isn't this jolly?" continued Harold. "No, sir, 'taint." "Why, what d'you mean?" "I means that jolly ain't the word, by a long way, for to express the natur' o' my feelin's. There ain't no word as I knows on as 'ud come up to it. If I wor a fylosipher, now, I'd coin a word for the occasion. P'raps," continued Disco, drawing an unusually long whiff from his pipe, "p'raps, not bein' a fylosipher, I might nevertheless try to coin one. Wot's the Latin, now, for heaven?" "Caelum," replied Harold. "Sailum, eh? An' wot's the 'arth?" "Terra." "Terra? well now, wot rediklous names to give to 'em," said Disco, shaking his head gravely, "I can't see why the ancients couldn't ha' bin satisfied with the names that _we'd_ given 'em. Hows'ever, that's neither here nor there. My notion o' the state o' things that we've got into here, as they now stand, is, that they are sailumterracious, which means heaven-upon-earth, d'ee see?" As Disco pronounced the word with a powerful emphasis on the _u-m_ part of it the sound was rather effective, and seemed to please him. "Right; you're right, or nearly so," replied Harold; "but don't you think the word savours too much of perfection, seeing that breakfast would add to the pleasure of the present delightful state of things, and make them even more sailumterracious than they are?" "No, sir, no; the word ain't too parfect," replied Disco, with a look of critical severity; "part of it is 'arth, and 'arth is imparfect, bein' susceptible of a many improvements, among which undoubtedly is breakfast, likewise dinner an' supper, to say nothin' of lunch an' tea, which is suitable only for babbies an' wimen; so I agrees with you, sir, that the state o' things will be sailumterraciouser if we goes ashore an' has breakfast." He tapped the head of his very black little pipe on the edge of the canoe, and heaved a sigh of contentment as he watched the ash-ball that floated away on the stream; then, rousing himself, he seized the steering-oar and followed Harold into a small creek, which was pleasantly overshadowed by the rich tropical foliage of that region. While breakfast was being prepared by Antonio, whose talents as _chef-de-cuisine_ were of the highest order, Harold took his rifle and rambled into the bush in search of game--any kind of game, for at that time he had had no experience whatever of the sport afforded by the woods of tropical Africa, and, having gathered only a few vague ideas from books, he went forth with all the pleasurable excitement and expectation that we may suppose peculiar to discoverers. Disco Lillihammer having only consumed his first pipe of tobacco, and holding it to be a duty which he owed to himself to consume two before breakfast, remained at the camp-fire to smoke and chaff Antonio, whose good-nature was only equalled by his activity. "Wot have 'ee got there?" inquired Disco, as Antonio poured a quantity of seed into a large pot. "Dis? vy, hims be mapira," replied the interpreter, with a benignant smile. "Hims de cheef food ob dis konterie." It must be remarked here that Antonio's English, having been acquired from all sorts of persons, in nearly every tropical part of the globe, was somewhat of a jumble, being a compound of the broken English spoken by individuals among the Germans, French, Portuguese, Arabs, and Negroes, with whom he had at various times associated, modified by his own ignorance, and seasoned with a dash of his own inventive fancy. "Is it good?" asked Disco. "Goot!" exclaimed Antonio. Being unable to find words to express himself, the enthusiastic cook placed his hand on the region which was destined ere long to become a receptacle for the mapira, and rolled his eyes upwards in rapture. "Hah! oo sall see behind long." "Before long, you mean," observed the seaman. "Dat all same ting, s'long's you onerstand him," replied Antonio complacently.--"Bring vatter now, Jumbo. Put him in careful. Not spill on de fire--zo--goot." Jumbo filled up the kettle carefully, and a broad grin overspread his black visage, partly because he was easily tickled into a condition of risibility by the cool off-hand remarks of Disco Lillihammer, and partly because, having acquired his own small smattering of English from Dr Livingstone, he was intelligent enough to perceive that in regard to Antonio's language there was something peculiar. "Now, go fitch noder kittle--queek." "_Yis_, sar--zo--goot," replied Jumbo, mimicking the interpreter, and going off with a vociferous laugh at his little joke, in which he was joined by his sable clansmen, Masiko and Zombo. "Hims got 'nuff of impoodidence," said the interpreter, as he bustled about his avocations. "He's not the only one that's got more than enough impoodidence," said Disco, pushing a fine straw down the stem of his "cutty," to make it draw better. "I say, Tony," (our regardless seaman had already thus mutilated his name), "you seem to have plenty live stock in them parts." "Plenty vat?" inquired the interpreter, with a perplexed expression. "Why, plenty birds and beasts,--live stock we calls it, meanin' thereby livin' creeturs." He pointed towards an opening in the mangroves, through which were visible the neighbouring mud and sand flats, swarming with wild-fowl, and conspicuous among which were large flocks of pelicans, who seemed to be gorging themselves comfortably from an apparently inexhaustible supply of fish in the pools left by the receding tide. "Ho, yis, me perceive; yis, plenty bird and beast--fishes too, and crawbs--look dare." He pointed to a part of the sands nearest to their encampment which appeared to be alive with some small creatures. "That's coorious," said Disco, removing his pipe, and regarding the phenomenon with some interest. "No, 'taint koorous, it's crawbs," replied Antonio. "Crabs, is it?" said Disco, rising and sauntering down to the sands; for he possessed an inquiring mind, with a special tendency to investigate the habits (pranks, as he called them) of the lower animals, which, in other circumstances, might have made him a naturalist. Muttering to himself--he was fond of muttering to himself, it felt companionable,--"coorious, very coorious, quite 'stroanary," he crept stealthily to the edge of the mangroves, and there discovered that the sands were literally alive with myriads of minute crabs, which were actively engaged--it was supposed by those who ought to know best--in gathering their food. The moment the tide ebbed from any part of the sands, out came these crablets in swarms, and set to work, busy as bees, ploughing up the sand, and sifting it, apparently for food, until the whole flat was rendered rough by their incessant labours. Approaching cautiously, Disco observed that each crab, as he went along sidewise, gathered a round bit of moist sand at his mouth, which was quickly brushed away by one of his claws, and replaced by another, and another, as fast as they could be brushed aside. "Eatin' sand they are!" muttered Disco in surprise; but presently the improbability of sand being very nutritious food, even for crabs, forced itself on him, and he muttered his conviction that they "was scrapin' for wittles." Having watched the crabs a considerable time, and observed that they frequently interrupted their labours to dart suddenly into their holes and out again--for the purpose, he conjectured, of "havin' a drop o' summat to wet their whistles,"--Disco thrust the cutty into his vest pocket, and walked a little further out on the flat in the hope of discovering some new objects of interest. Nor was he disappointed. Besides finding that the pools left by the tide swarmed with varieties of little fish--many of them being "coorious,"--he was fortunate enough to witness a most surprising combat. It happened thus:--Perceiving, a little to his right, some small creature hopping about on the sand near to a little pool, he turned aside to observe it more closely. On his drawing near, the creature jumped into the pool. Disco advanced to the edge, gazed intently into the water, and saw nothing except his own reflected image at the bottom. Presently the creature reappeared. It was a small fish--a familiar fish, too--which he had known in the pools of his native land by the name of blenny. As the blenny appeared to wish to approach the edge of the pool, Disco retired, and, placing a hand on each knee, stooped, in order to make himself as small as possible. He failed, the diminution in his height being fully counterbalanced by the latitudinal extension of his elbows! Presently the blenny put its head out of the water, and looked about. We speak advisedly. The blenny is altogether a singular, an exceptional fish. It can, and does, look sidewise, upwards and downwards, with its protruding eyes, as knowingly, and with as much vivacity, as if it were a human being. This power in a fish has something of the same awesome effect on an observer that might possibly result were a horse to raise its head and smile at him. Seeing that the coast was clear, for Disco stood as motionless as a mangrove tree, blenny hopped upon the dry land. The African blenny is a sort of amphibious animal, living nearly as much out of the water as in it. Indeed its busiest time, we are told, [_See Dr Livingstone's Zambesi and its Tributaries_, page 843.] is at low water, when, by means of its pectoral fins it crawls out on the sand and raises itself into something of a standing attitude, with its bright eyes keeping a sharp look-out for the light-coloured flies on which it feeds. For several seconds Disco gazed at the fish, and the fish gazed around, even turning its head a little, as well as its eyes, on this side and on that. Presently a small fly, with that giddy heedlessness which characterises the race, alighted about two inches in front of blenny's nose. Instantly the fish leaped that vast space, alighted with its underset mouth just over the fly, which immediately rose into it and was entombed. "Brayvo!" passed through Disco's brain, but no sound issued from his lips. Presently another of the giddy ones alighted in front of blenny about a foot distant. This appeared to be much beyond his leaping powers, for, with a slow, stealthy motion, like a cat, he began deliberately to stalk his victim. The victim appeared to be blind, for it took no notice of the approaching monster. Blenny displayed marvellous powers of self-control, for he moved on steadily without accelerating his speed until within about two inches of his prey--then he leapt as before, and another fly was entombed. "Well done!" exclaimed Disco, mentally, but still his lips and body were motionless as before. At this point an enemy, in the shape of another blenny, appeared on the scene. It came up out of a small pool close at hand, and seemed to covet the first blenny's pool, and to set about taking possession of it as naturally as if it had been a human being; for, observing, no doubt, that its neighbour was busily engaged, it moved quietly in the direction of the coveted pool. Being a very little fish, it was not observed by Disco, but it was instantly noticed by the first blenny, which, being rather the smaller of the two, we shall style the Little one. Suddenly Big Blenny threw off all disguise, bounded towards the pool, which was about a foot square, and plunged in. No mortal blenny could witness this unwarrantable invasion of its hearth and home without being stirred to indignant wrath. With eyes that seemed to flash fire, and dorsal fin bristling up with rage, Little Blenny made five tremendous leaps of full three inches each, and disappeared. Another moment and a miniature storm ruffled the pool: for a few seconds the heavings of the deep were awful; then, out jumped Big Blenny and tried to flee, but out jumped Little Blenny and caught him by the tail; round turned the big one and caught the other by the jaw. "Hallo, Disco! breakfast's ready--where are you?" shouted Harold from the woods. Disco replied not. It is a question whether he heard the hail at all, so engrossed was he in this remarkable fight. "Brayvo!" he exclaimed aloud, when Little Blenny shook his big enemy off and rolled over him. "Cleverly done!" he shouted, when Big Blenny with a dart took refuge in the pool. "I knowed it," he cried approvingly, when Little Blenny forced him a second time to evacuate the premises, "Go in an' win, little 'un," thought Disco. Thus the battle raged furiously, now in the water, now on the sand, while the excited seaman danced round the combatants--both of whom appeared to have become deaf and blind with rage--and gave them strong encouragement, mingled with appropriate advice and applause. In fact Disco's delight would have been perfect, had the size of the belligerents admitted of his patting the little blenny on the back; but this of course was out of the question! At last having struck, worried, bitten, and chased each other by land and sea for several minutes, these pugnacious creatures seized each other by their respective throats, like two bull-dogs, and fell exhausted on the sand. "It's a draw!" exclaimed Disco, rather disappointed. "No, 'tain't," he said, as Little Blenny, reviving, rose up and renewed the combat more furiously than ever; but it was soon ended, for Big Blenny suddenly turned and fled to his own pool. Little Blenny did not crow; he did not even appear to be elated. He evidently felt that he had been called on to perform a disagreeable but unavoidable duty, and deemed it quite unnecessary to wave banners, fire guns, or ring bells in celebration of his victory, as he dived back into his pool amid the ringing cheers of Disco Lillihammer. "Upon my word, if you have not gone stark mad, you must have had a sunstroke," said Harold, coming forward, "what's the matter?" "Too late! too late!" cried Disco, in a mingled tone of amusement and regret. "D'ye think it is? Are you incurable already?" asked his friend. "Too late to see the most a-stonishin' scrimmage I ever did behold in _my_ life," said Disco. The description of this scrimmage gave the worthy seaman a subject for conversation and food for meditation during the greater part of the time spent over the morning meal, and there is no saying how long he would have kept referring to and chuckling over it--to the great admiration and sympathy of the black fellows, who are, as a race, excessively fond of jocularity and fun--had not another of the denizens of the mangrove jungle diverted his attention and thoughts rather suddenly. This was a small monkey, which, seated on a branch overhead, peered at the breakfast-party from among the leaves, with an expression of inquiry and of boundless astonishment that it is quite impossible to describe. Surprise of the most sprightly nature, if we may say so, sat enthroned on that small monkey's countenance, an expression which was enhanced by the creature's motions, for, not satisfied with taking a steady look at the intruders from the right side of a leaf, it thrust forward its little black head on the left side of it, and then under it, by way of variety; but no additional light seemed to result from these changes in the point of observation, for the surprise did not diminish. In one of its intent stares it caught the eye of Disco. The seaman's jaws stopped, as if suddenly locked, and his eyes opened to their widest. The monkey seemed to feel uneasily that it had attracted attention, for it showed the smallest possible glimpse of its teeth. The action, coupled with the leafy shadows which fell on its countenance, had the effect of a smile, which caused Disco to burst into a loud laugh and point upwards. To bound from its position to a safer retreat, and thence stare at Disco with deep indignation, and a threatening display of all its teeth and gums, in addition to its looks of surprise, was the work of a moment on the part of the small monkey, whereat Disco burst into a renewed roar of laughter, in which he was joined by the whole party. "Are there many o' them fellows hereabouts?" inquired the seaman of Antonio. "Ho, yis, lots ob 'em. T'ousands ebery whars; see, dare am morer." He pointed to another part of the umbrageous canopy overhead, where the face of a still smaller monkey was visible, engaged, like the previous one, in an earnest scrutiny of the party, but with a melancholy, rather than a surprised, expression of visage. "Wot a miserable, broken-hearted thing!" said Disco, grinning, in which act he was immediately copied by the melancholy monkey, though from different motives. Disco was very fond of monkeys. All his life he had felt a desire to pat and fondle those shivering creatures which he had been accustomed to see on barrel-organs in his native land, and the same strong impulse came over him now. "Wot a pity the creeturs smell so bad, and ain't cleanly," he remarked, gazing affectionately up among the leaves, "they'd make such capital pets; why, there's another." This remark had reference to a third monkey, of large dimensions and fierce countenance, which at that moment rudely thrust the melancholy monkey aside, and took its place. The latter, with a humble air and action, took up a new position, somewhat nearer to the fire, where its sad countenance was more distinctly seen. "Well, it does seem a particularly sorrowful monkey, that," said Harold, laughing, as he helped himself to another canful of tea. "The most miserable objic' I ever did see," observed Disco. The negroes looked at each other and laughed. They were accustomed to monkeys, and took little notice of them, but they were mightily tickled by Disco's amusement, for he had laid down his knife and fork, and shook a good deal with internal chuckling, as he gazed upwards. "One would suppose, now," he said softly, "that it had recently seen its father and mother, and all its brothers and sisters, removed by a violent death, or sold into slavery." "Ha! they never see that," said Harold; "the brutes may fight and kill, but they never _enslave_ each other. It is the proud prerogative of man to do that." "That's true, sir, worse luck, as Paddy says," rejoined Disco. "But look there: wot's them coorious things round the creetur's waist--a pair o' the werry smallest hands--and, hallo! a face no bigger than a button! I do believe that it's--" Disco did not finish the sentence, but he was right. The small melancholy monkey was a mother! Probably that was the cause of its sorrow. It is a touching thought that anxiety for its tiny offspring perhaps had furrowed that monkey's visage with the wrinkles of premature old age. That danger threatened it on every side was obvious, for no sooner had it taken up its new position, after its unceremonious ejection by the fierce monkey, than the sprightly monkey, before referred to, conceived a plot which it immediately proceeded to carry into execution. Observing that the tail of the sad one hung down in a clear space below the branch on which it sat, the sprightly fellow quickly, but with intense caution and silence, crept towards it, and when within a yard or so sprang into the air and caught the tail! A wild shriek, and what Disco styled a "scrimmage," ensued, during which the mother monkey gave chase to him of the lively visage, using her arms, legs, and tail promiscuously to grasp and hold on to branches, and leaving her extremely little one to look out for itself. This it seemed quite capable of doing, for no limpet ever stuck to a solid rock with greater tenacity than did that infant to the maternal waist throughout the chase. The hubbub appeared to startle the whole monkey race, revealing the fact that troops of other monkeys had, unobserved, been gazing at the strangers in silent wonder, since the time of their landing. Pleasant however, though this state of things undeniably was, it could not be expected to last. Breakfast being concluded, it became necessary that Disco should tear himself from the spot which, having first solaced himself with a pipe, he did with a good grace, remarking, as he re-embarked and "took the helm" of his canoe, that he had got more powerful surprises that morning than he had ever before experienced in any previous twelvemonth of his life. Before long he received many more surprises, especially one of a very different and much less pleasant nature, an account of which will be found in the next chapter. CHAPTER SIX. DESCRIBES SEVERAL NEW AND SURPRISING INCIDENTS, WHICH MUST BE READ TO BE FULLY APPRECIATED. To travel with one's mouth and eyes opened to nearly their utmost width in a state of surprised stupefaction, may be unavoidable, but it cannot be said to be either becoming or convenient. Attention in such a case is apt to be diverted from the business in hand, and flies have a tendency to immolate themselves in the throat. Nevertheless, inconvenient though the condition was, our friend Disco Lillihammer was so afflicted with astonishment at what he heard and saw in this new land, that he was constantly engaged in swallowing flies and running his canoe among shallows and rushes, insomuch that he at last resigned the steering-oar until familiarity with present circumstances should tone him down to a safe condition of equanimity. And no wonder that Disco was surprised; no wonder that his friend Harold Seadrift shared in his astonishment and delight, for they were at once, and for the first time in their lives, plunged into the very heart of jungle life in equatorial Africa! Those who have never wandered far from the comparatively tame regions of our temperate zone, can form but a faint conception of what it is to ramble in the tropics, and therefore can scarcely be expected to sympathise fully with the mental condition of our heroes as they ascended the Zambesi. Everything was so thoroughly strange; sights and sounds so vastly different from what they had been accustomed to see and hear, that it seemed as though they had landed on another planet. Trees, shrubs, flowers, birds, beasts, insects, and reptiles, all were unfamiliar, except indeed, one or two of the more conspicuous trees and animals, which had been so imprinted on their minds by means of nursery picture-books that, on first beholding them, Disco unconsciously paid these books the compliment of saying that the animals "wos uncommon like the picturs." Disco's mental condition may be said, for the first two or three days, to have been one of gentle ever-flowing surprise, studded thickly with little bursts of keen astonishment. The first part of the river ran between mangrove jungle, in regard to which he remarked that "them there trees had legs like crabs," in which observation he was not far wrong, for, when the tide was out, the roots of the mangroves rose high out of the mud, forming supports, as it were, for the trees to stand on. But it was the luxuriance of the vegetation that made the most powerful impression on the travellers. It seemed as if the various groups and families of the vegetable kingdom had been warmed by the sun into a state of unwonted affection, for everything appeared to entertain the desire to twine round and embrace everything else. One magnificent screw-palm in particular was so overwhelmed by affectionate parasites that his natural shape was almost entirely concealed. Others of the trees were decked with orchilla weed. There were ferns so gigantic as to be almost worthy of being styled trees, and palm-bushes so sprawling as to suggest the idea of huge vegetable spiders. Bright yellow fruit gleamed among the graceful green leaves of the mangroves; wild date-palms gave variety to the scene, if that had been needed, which it was not, and masses of umbrageous plants with large yellow flowers grew along the banks, while, down among the underwood, giant roots rose in fantastic convolutions above ground, as if the earth were already too full, and there wasn't room for the whole of them. There was an antediluvian magnificence, a prehistoric snakiness, a sort of primeval running-to-seedness, which filled Harold and Disco with feelings of awe, and induced a strange, almost unnatural tendency to regard Adam and Eve as their contemporaries. Animal life was not wanting in this paradise. Frequently did our seaman give vent to "Hallo!" "There they go!" "Look out for the little 'un wi' the long tail!" and similar expressions, referring of course to his favourite monkeys, which ever and anon peered out upon the strangers with looks of intensity, for whatever their expression might be-- sadness, grief, interrogation, wrath, surprise--it was always in the superlative degree. There were birds also, innumerable. One, styled the "king-hunter," sang wild exultant airs, as if it found king-hunting to be an extremely exhilarating occupation, though what sort of kings it hunted we cannot tell. Perhaps it was the king of beasts, perhaps the kingfisher, a bright specimen of which was frequently seen to dart out from the banks, but we profess ignorance on this point. There were fish-hawks also, magnificent fellows, which sat in regal dignity on the tops of the mangrove trees, and the glossy ibis, with others of the feathered tribe too numerous to mention. Large animals also were there in abundance, though not so frequently seen as those which have been already mentioned. Disco occasionally made known the fact that such, or something unusual, had transpired, by the sudden and violent exclamation of "What's that?" in a voice so loud that "that," whatever it might be, sometimes bolted or took to flight before any one else caught sight of it. "Hallo!" he exclaimed, on one such occasion, as the canoes turned a bend of the river. "What now?" demanded Harold, looking at his companion to observe the direction of his eyes. "I'm a Dutchman," exclaimed Disco in a hoarse whisper that might have been heard half a mile off, "if it's not a zebra!" "So it is; my rifle--look sharp!" said Harold eagerly. The weapon was handed to him, but before it could be brought to bear, the beautiful striped creature had tossed its head, snorted, whisked its tail, kicked up its heels, and dashed into the jungle. "Give way, lads; let's after him," shouted Disco, turning the canoe's bow to shore. "Hold on," cried Harold; "you might as well go after a needle in a haystack, or a locomotive." "So I might," admitted Disco, with a mortified air, resuming his course; "but it ain't in reason to expect a feller to keep quiet w'en he sees one o' the very picturs of his child'ood, so to speak, come alive an' kick up its heels like that." Buffaloes were also seen in the grassy glades, but it proved difficult to come within range of them; also wart-hogs, and three different kinds of antelope. Of these last Harold shot several, and they were found to be excellent food. Human beings were also observed, but those first encountered fled at the sight of the white men, as if they had met with their worst foes; and such was in very truth the case,--if we may regard the Portuguese half-castes of that coast as white men,--for these negroes were runaway slaves, who stood the chance of being shot, or drowned, or whipped to death, if recaptured. Other animals they saw--some queer, some terrible, nearly all strange-- and last, though not least, the hippopotamus. When Disco first saw this ungainly monster he was bereft of speech for some minutes. The usual "Hallo!" stuck in his throat and well-nigh choked him. He could only gasp, and point. "Ay, there goes a hippopotamus," said Harold, with the easy nonchalance of a man who had been to the Zoological Gardens, and knew all about it. Nevertheless it was quite plain that Harold was much excited, for he almost dropped his oar overboard in making a hasty grasp at his rifle. Before he could fire, the creature gaped wide, as if in laughter, and dived. "Unfortunate!" said Harold, in a philosophically careless tone; "never mind, we shall see lots more of them." "Ugliness embodied!" said Disco, heaving a deep sigh. "But him's goot for eat," said Antonio, smacking his lips. "Is he?" demanded Disco of Jumbo, whose enjoyment of the sailor's expressive looks was so great, that, whenever the latter opened his lips, the former looked back over his shoulder with a broad grin of expectation. "Ho yis; de hiputmus am fust-rate grub for dis yer boy," replied the negro, rolling his red tongue inside his mouth suggestively. "He never eats man, does he?" inquired Disco. "Nevair," replied Antonio. "He looks as if he might," returned the seaman; "anyhow, he's got a mouth big enough to do it. You're quite sure he don't, I 'spose?" "Kite sure an' sartin; but me hab seen him tak mans," said Antonio. "Tak mans, wot d'ee mean by that?" "Tak him," repeated Antonio. "Go at him's canoe or boat--bump with him's head--dash in de timbers--capsize, so's man hab to swim shore--all as got clear ob de crokidils." While Disco was meditating on this unpleasant trait of character in the hippopotamus, the specimen which they had just seen, or some other member of his family, having compassion, no doubt, on the seaman's ignorance, proceeded to illustrate its method of attack then and there by rising suddenly under the canoe with such force, that its head and shoulders shot high out of the water, into which it fell with a heavy splash. Harold's rifle being ready, he fired just as it was disappearing. Whether he hit or not is uncertain, but next moment the enraged animal rose again under Disco's canoe, which it nearly lifted out of the water in its efforts to seize it in its mouth. Fortunately the canoe was too flat for its jaws to grip; the monster's blunt teeth were felt, as well as heard, to grind across the planks; and Disco being in the stern, which was raised highest, was almost thrown overboard by the jerk. Rising about two yards off, the hippopotamus looked savagely at the canoe, and was about to dive again when Harold gave it a second shot. The large gun being fortunately ready, had been handed to him by one of the Makololo men. The heavy ball took effect behind the eye, and killed the animal almost instantaneously. The hippopotamus usually sinks when shot dead, but in this case they were so near that, before it had time to sink, Zombo, assisted by his friend Jumbo, made a line fast to it, and it was finally dragged to the shore. The landing, however, was much retarded by the crocodiles, which now showed themselves for the first time, and kept tugging and worrying the carcase much as a puppy tugs and worries a ladies' muff; affording Disco and his friend strong reason to congratulate themselves that the canoe had not been overturned. The afternoon was pretty well advanced when the landing was accomplished on a small sandy island, and as the spot was suitable for encamping, they determined to remain there for the night, and feast. There are many points of resemblance between savage and civilised festivities. Whether the performers be the black sons of Africa, or the white fathers of Europe, there is the same powerful tendency to eat too much, and the same display of good-fellowship; for it is an indisputable fact that feeding man is amiable, unless, indeed, he be dyspeptic. There are also, however, various points of difference. The savage, owing to the amount of fresh air and exercise which he is compelled to take, usually eats with greater appetite, and knows nothing of equine dreams or sleepless nights. On the whole, we incline to the belief that, despite his lack of refinement and ceremony, the savage has the best of it in this matter. Disco Lillihammer's visage, during the progress of that feast, formed a study worthy of a physiognomist. Every new achievement, whether trifling or important, performed by the Makololo triad, Jumbo, Zombo, and Masiko--every fresh hippopotamus steak skewered and set up to roast by the half-caste brothers Jose and Oliveira--every lick bestowed on their greasy fingers by the Somali negroes Nakoda and Conda, and every sigh of intense satisfaction heaved by the so-called "freemen" of Quillimane, Songolo and Mabruki, was watched, commented on, and, if we may say so, reflected in the animated countenance of the stout seaman, with such variety of expression, and such an interesting compound of grin and wrinkle, that poor Jumbo, who gazed at him over hippopotamus ribs and steaks, and tried hard not to laugh, was at last compelled to turn away his eyes, in order that his mouth might have fair-play. But wonderful, sumptuous, and every way satisfactory though that feast was, it bore no comparison whatever to another feast carried on at the same time by another party, about fifty yards off, where the carcase of the hippopotamus had been left half in and half out of the water--for, of course, being fully more than a ton in weight, only a small portion of the creature was appropriated by the canoe-men. The negroes paid no attention whatever to this other festive party; but in a short time Disco turned his head to one side, and said--"Wy, wot's that splashin' I hears goin' on over there?" "I suspect it must be some beast or other that has got hold of the carcase," replied Harold, who was himself busy with a portion of the same. "Yis, dat am krokidils got 'im," said Antonio, with his mouth full--very full. "You don't say so?" said Disco, washing down the steak with a brimming cup of tea. No one appeared to think it worth while to asseverate the fact, for it was self-evident. Several crocodiles were supping, and in doing so they tore away at the carcase with such violence, and lashed the water so frequently with their powerful tails, as to render it clear that their feast necessitated laborious effort, and seemed less a recreation than a duty. Moreover, they sat at their meat like insatiable gourmands, so long into the night that supper became transmuted into breakfast, and Harold's rest was greatly disturbed thereby. He was too sleepy and lazy, however, to rise and drive them away. Next morning the travellers started early, being anxious to pass, as quietly as possible, a small Portuguese town, near to which it was said a party of runaway slaves and rebels against the Government were engaged in making depredations. When grey dawn was beginning to rise above the tree-tops, they left their encampment in profound silence, and rowed up stream as swiftly as possible. They had not advanced far, when, on turning a point covered with tall reeds, Zombo, who was bowman in the leading canoe, suddenly made a sign to the men to cease rowing. "What's the matter?" whispered Harold. The negro pointed through the reeds, and whispered the single word "Canoe." By this time the other canoe had ranged up alongside, and after a brief consultation between Harold and Disco, it was decided that they should push gently into the reeds, and wait till the strange canoe should pass; but a few seconds sufficed to show that the two men who paddled it did not intend to pass down the river, for they pushed straight out towards the deepest part of the stream. They were, however, carried down so swiftly by the current that they were brought quite near to the point of rushes where our travellers lay concealed--so near that their voices could be distinctly heard. They talked in Portuguese. Antonio muttered a few words, and Harold observed that there was a good deal of excitement in the looks of his men. "What's the matter?" he asked anxiously. Antonio shook his head. "Dat nigger goin' to be drownded," he said; "bad nigger--obstropolous nigger, suppose." "Wot!" exclaimed Disco in a whisper, "goin' to be drownded! wot d'ee mean?" Antonio proceeded to explain that it was a custom amongst the Portuguese slave-owners there, when they found any of their slaves intractable or refractory, to hire some individuals who, for a small sum, would bind and carry off the incorrigible for the purpose of making away with him. One method of effecting this was to tie him in a sack and throw him into the river, the crocodiles making quite sure that the unfortunate being should never again be seen, either alive or dead. But before Antonio had finished his brief explanation he was interrupted by an exclamation from the horrified Englishmen, as they beheld the two men in the canoe raise something between them which for a moment appeared to struggle violently. "Shove off! give way!" shouted Harold and Disco in the same breath, each thrusting with his paddle so vigorously that the two canoes shot out like arrows into the stream. At the same instant there was a heavy plunge in the water beside the strange canoe, and the victim sank. Next moment one end of the sack rose to the surface. Both Harold and Disco made straight towards it, but it sank again, and the two murderers paddled to the shore, on which they drew up their canoe, intending to take to the bush, if necessary, for safety. Once again the sack rose not more than three yards from Disco's canoe. The bold seaman knew that if it disappeared a third time there would be little chance of its rising again. He was prompt in action, and daring to recklessness. In one moment he had leaped overboard, dived, caught the sack in his powerful grasp, and bore it to the surface. The canoe had been steered for him. The instant he appeared, strong and ready hands laid hold of him and his burden, and dragged them both inboard. "Cut the lashin's and give him air," cried Disco, endeavouring to find his clasp-knife; but one of the men quickly obeyed the order, and opened the sack. A groan of horror and pity burst from the seaman when he beheld the almost insensible form of a powerful negro, whose back was lacerated with innumerable ragged cuts, and covered with clotted blood. "Where are the--" He stopped short on looking round, and, observing that the two men were standing on the shore, seized a double-barrelled gun. The stream had carried the canoe a considerable distance below the spot where the murder had been attempted, but they were still within range. Without a moment's hesitation Disco took deliberate aim at them and fired. Fortunately for him and his party Disco was a bad shot--nevertheless the bullet struck so close to the feet of the two men that it drove the sand and pebbles into their faces. They turned at once and fled, but before they reached the cover of the bushes the second barrel was fired, and the bullet whistled close enough over their heads greatly to accelerate their flight. The negroes opened their great round eyes, and appeared awe-struck at this prompt display of a thirst for vengeance on the part of one who had hitherto shown no other disposition than hilarity, fun, and good-humour. Harold was greatly relieved to observe Disco's failure, for, if he had hit either of the fugitives, the consequences might have been very disastrous to their expedition. On being partially revived and questioned, it turned out that the poor fellow had been whipped almost to death for refusing to be the executioner in whipping his own mother. This was a refinement in cruelty on the part of these professedly Christian Portuguese, which our travellers afterwards learned was by no means uncommon. We are told by those who know that region well, and whose veracity is unquestionable, that the Portuguese on the east coast of Africa live in constant dread of their slaves rising against them. No wonder, considering the fiendish cruelties to which they subject them! In order to keep them in subjection they underfeed them, and if any of them venture to steal cocoa-nuts from the trees the owners thereof are at liberty to shoot them and throw them into the sea. Slaves being cheap there, and plentiful, are easily replaced, hence a cruel owner never hesitates. If a slave is refractory, and flogging only makes him worse, his master bids the overseer flog him until "he will require no more." Still further to keep them in subjection, the Portuguese then endeavour to eradicate from them all sympathy with each other, and all natural affection, by the following means. If a woman requires to be flogged, her brother or son is selected to do it. Fathers are made to flog their daughters, husbands their wives, and, if two young negroes of different sexes are observed to show any symptoms of growing attachment for each other, these two are chosen for each other's executioners. [See _Travels in Eastern Africa_, by Lyons McLeod, Esquire, FRGS, and late Her Britannic Majesty's Consul at Mozambique, volume one pages 274 to 277, and volume two page 27.] The poor wretch whom we have just described as having been saved from death, to which he had been doomed for refusing to become the executioner of his own mother, was placed as tenderly and comfortably as circumstances would admit of in the bottom of the canoe, and then our travellers pushed on with all haste--anxious to pass the town before the two fugitives could give the alarm. They were successful in this, probably because the two men may have hid themselves for some time in the jungle, under the impression that the exasperated Englishmen might be searching for them on shore. Giving themselves time only to take a hurried meal in the middle of the day, our travellers rowed continuously till sunset when, deeming it probable that pursuit, if undertaken at all, must have been abandoned, they put ashore on the right bank of the river and encamped. When the sufferer had been made as comfortable as circumstances would allow--for he was much weakened by loss of blood as well as agonised with pain--and after he had been refreshed with food and some warm tea, Harold questioned him, through the interpreter, as to his previous history. At first the man was brusque in his manner, and inclined to be sulky, for a long course of cruelty had filled him with an intense hatred of white men. Indeed, an embittered and desperate spirit had begun to induce callous indifference to all men, whether white or black. But kind treatment, to which he was evidently unaccustomed, and generous diet, which was obviously new to him, had a softening influence, and when Harold poured a small glass of rum into his tea, and Antonio added a lump of sugar, and Disco pressed him tenderly to drink it off--which he did--the effect was very decided; the settled scowl on his face became unsettled, and gradually melting away, was replaced by a milder and more manly look. By degrees he became communicative, and, bit by bit, his story was drawn from him. It was brief, but very sorrowful. His name, he said, was Chimbolo. He belonged to a tribe which lived far inland, beyond the Manganja country, which latter was a country of hills. He was not a Manganja man, but he had married a Manganja woman. One night he, with his wife and mother, was paying a visit to the village of his wife's relations, when a band of slave-hunters suddenly attacked the village. They were armed with guns, and at once began to murder the old people and capture the young. Resistance was useless. His relatives were armed only with bows and spears. Being taken by surprise, they all fled in terror, but were pursued and few escaped. His wife, he said--and a scowl of terrible ferocity crossed Chimbolo's face as he said it--was about to become a mother at the time. He seized her in his arms on the first alarm, and fled with her into the bush, where he concealed her, and then hurried back to aid his relations, but met them--old and young, strong and feeble--flying for their lives. It was not possible to rally them; he therefore joined in the flight. While running, a bullet grazed his head and stunned him. Presently he recovered and rose, but in a few minutes was overtaken and captured. A slave-stick was put on his neck, and, along with a number of Manganja men, women, and children, he was driven down to the coast, and sold, with a number of other men and women, among whom was his own mother, to a Portuguese merchant on the coast, near the East Luavo mouth of the Zambesi. There he was found to be of a rebellious spirit, and at last on positively refusing to lash his mother, his master ordered him to be whipped to death, but, changing his mind before the order had been quite carried out he ordered him to be bound hand and foot and taken away in a sack. As to his wife, he had never heard of her since that night which was about two years past. He knew that she had not been found, because he had not seen her amongst the other captives. If they had found her they would have been sure to carry her off, because--here Chimbolo's visage again grew diabolical--she was young, he said, and beautiful. When all this had been translated into bad English by Antonio, Harold asked if Chimbolo thought it probable that his wife was still alive in the Manganja highlands. To this the former said that he thought it likely. "W'y, then," said Disco, giving his right thigh a powerful slap, which was his favourite method of emphasising a remark, "wot d'ye say, sir, to lay our course for these same highlands, and try for to find out this poor critter?" "Just what was running in my own mind, Disco," said Harold, musing over his supper. "It does not make much difference what part of this country we go to, being all new to us; and as Antonio tells me the Manganja highlands are up the Shire river, which was explored by Dr Livingstone not long ago, and is not distant many days' journey from this, I think we can't do better than go there. We shall have a good as well as a definite object in view." "Wery good, sir; I'm agreeable," returned Disco, reaching forth his pewter plate; "another hunk o' that pottimus, Jumbo; it's better than salt-junk any day; and I say, Jumbo, don't grin so much, else ye'll enlarge yer pretty little mouth, which 'ud be a pity." "Yis, saar," replied Jumbo, becoming very grave all of a sudden, but on receiving a nod and an expressive wink from the seaman, he exploded again, and rolled backward on the grass, in the performance of which act he capsized Zombo's can of tea, whereupon Zombo leaped upon him in wrath, and Masiko, as in duty bound, came to the rescue. "Clap a stopper on yer noise, will 'ee?" cried Disco sternly, "else you'll be bringin' all the wild beasts in these parts down on us to see wot it's all about." "That reminds me," said Harold, when quiet was restored, "that we must now organise ourselves into something of a fighting band--a company, as it were, of soldiers,--and take our regular spell of watching by night, for, from all that I hear of the disturbed state of the country just now, with these runaway slaves and rebels, it will be necessary to be on our guard. Of course," he added, smiling, "I suppose I must be captain of the company, and you, Disco, shall be lieutenant." "Not at all," replied the seaman, shaking his head, and frowning at Jumbo, whose brilliant teeth at once responded to the glance, "not at all, none of your sodgerin' for me. I never could abide the lobsters. Fust-mate, sir, that's wot _I_ am, if I'm to be expected to do my dooty." "Well then, first-mate be it," rejoined Harold, "and Antonio shall be serjeant-major--" "Bo's'n--bo's'n," suggested Disco; "keep up appearances wotiver ye do, an' don't let the memory of salt water go down." "Very good," said Harold, laughing; "then you shall be boatswain, Antonio, as well as cook, and I will instruct you in the first part of your duty, which will be to keep watch for an hour while the rest of us sleep. My first-mate will teach you the whistling part of a boatswain's duty, if that should be required--" "Ah, and the roar," interrupted Disco, "a bo's'n would be nothin' without his roar--" At that moment the woods around them were filled with a tremendous and very unexpected roar, which caused the whole party to spring up, and induced the new bo's'n to utter a yell of terror that would have done credit to the whistle of the most violent bo's'n on the sea. Next moment the travellers were surrounded by a large and excited band of armed negroes. CHAPTER SEVEN. ENEMIES ARE CHANGED INTO FRIENDS--OUR TRAVELLERS PENETRATE INTO THE INTERIOR OF THE LAND. To possess the power of looking perfectly calm and unconcerned when you are in reality considerably agitated and rather anxious, is extremely useful in any circumstances, but especially so when one happens to be in the midst of grinning, gesticulating, naked savages. Our hero, Harold Seadrift possessed that power in an eminent degree, and his first-mate, Disco Lillihammer, was not a whit behind him. Although both had started abruptly to their legs at the first alarm, and drawn their respective revolvers, they no sooner found themselves surrounded by overwhelming numbers than they lowered their weapons, and, turning back to back, faced the intruders with calm countenances. "Sit down, men, every one of you except Antonio," said Harold, in a quiet, but clear and decided voice. His men, who, having left their guns in the canoe, were utterly helpless, quietly obeyed. "Who are you, and what do you want?" demanded Antonio, by Harold's order. To this a tall negro, who was obviously the leader of the band, replied in the native tongue,--"It matters little who we are; you are in our power." "Not quite," said Harold, slightly moving his revolver. "Tell him that he _may_ overcome us, but before he does so my friend and I carry the lives of twelve of his men in our pistols." The negro chief, who quite understood the powers of a revolver, replied--"Tell your master, that before he could fire two shots, he and his friend would have each twelve bullets in his body. But I have not time to palaver here. Who are you, and where are you going?" "We are Englishmen, travelling to see the country," replied Harold. The chief looked doubtfully at him, and seemed to waver, then suddenly making up his mind, he frowned and said sternly--"No; that is a lie. You are Portuguese scoundrels. You shall all die. You have robbed us of our liberty, our wives, our children, our homes; you have chained, and tortured, and flogged us!"--he gnashed his teeth at this point, and his followers grew excited. "Now we have got free, and you are caught. We will let you know what it is to be slaves." As the negro chief stirred up his wrath by thus recounting his wrongs, and advanced a step, Harold begged Disco, in a low, urgent voice, not to raise his pistol. Then looking the savage full in the face, without showing a trace of anxiety, he said--"You are wrong. We are indeed Englishmen, and you know that the English detest slavery, and would, if they could, put a stop to it altogether." "Yes, I know that," said the chief. "We have seen one Englishman here, and he has made us to know that not all men with white faces are devils--like the Portuguese and Arabs. But how am I to know you are English?" Again the chief wavered a little, as if half-inclined to believe Harold's statement. "Here is proof for you," said Harold, pointing to Chimbolo, who, being scarcely able to move, had remained all this time beside the fire leaning on his elbow and listening intently to the conversation. "See," he continued, "that is a slave. Look at him." As he said this, Harold stepped quickly forward and removed the blanket, with which he had covered his lacerated back after dressing it. A howl of execration burst from the band of negroes, who pointed their spears and guns at the travellers' breasts, and would have made a speedy end of the whole party if Antonio had not exclaimed "Speak, Chimbolo, speak!" The slave looked up with animation, and told the rebels how his Portuguese owner had ordered him to be flogged to death, but changed his mind and doomed him to be drowned,--how that in the nick of time, these white men had rescued him, and had afterwards treated him with the greatest kindness. Chimbolo did not say much, but what he did say was uttered with emphasis and feeling. This was enough. Those who would have been enemies were suddenly converted into warm friends, and the desperadoes, who would have torn their former masters, or any of their race, limb from limb, if they could have got hold of them, left our adventurers undisturbed in their bivouac, after wishing them a prosperous journey. It was nevertheless deemed advisable to keep watch during the night. This was done faithfully and conscientiously as far as it went. Harold took the first hour by way of example. He sat over the fire, alternately gazing into its embers while he meditated of home, and round upon the dark forest while he thought of Africa. True to time, he called Disco, who, equally true to his sense of duty, turned out at once with a deep "Ay, ay, sir." The self-styled first-mate placed his back against a tree, and, endeavouring to believe it to be a capstan, or binnacle, or any other object appertaining to the sea, stared at the ghostly stems of the forest-trees until they began to dance hornpipes for his special gratification, or glowered at the shadows until they became instinct with life, and all but induced him to rouse the camp twenty times in the course of his hour's vigil. True to time also, like his predecessor, Disco roused Antonio and immediately turned in. The vivacious _chef de cuisine_ started up at once, took up his position at the foot of the tree which Disco had just left, leaned his back against it, and straightway went to sleep, in which condition he remained till morning, leaving the camp in unprotected felicity and blissful ignorance. Fortunately for all parties, Disco awoke in time to catch him napping, and resolved to punish him. He crept stealthily round to the back of the tree against which the faithless man leaned, and reached gently round until his mouth was close to Antonio's cheek, then, collecting all the air that his vast lungs were capable of containing, he poured into Antonio's ear a cumulative roar that threw the camp and the denizens of the wilderness far and near into confusion, and almost drove the whole marrow in Antonio's body out at his heels. The stricken man sprang up as if earth had shot him forth, uttered a yell of terror such as seldom greets the ear, and rushed blindly forward. Repeating the roar, Disco plunged after him. Antonio tumbled over the fire, recovered himself, dashed on, and would certainly have plunged into the river, if not into the jaws of a crocodile, had not Jumbo caught him in his arms, in the midst of a chorus of laughter from the other men. "How dare 'ee go to sleep on dooty?" demanded Disco, seizing the culprit by the collar, "eh! we might have bin all murdered by rebels or eaten by lions, or had our eyes picked out by gorillas, for all that _you_ would have done to prevent it--eh?" giving him a shake. "Oh, pardon, forgif. Nevair doot more again," exclaimed the breathless and trembling Antonio. "You'd _better_ not!" said Disco, giving him another shake and releasing him. Having done so, he turned on his heel and bestowed a quiet look, in passing, on Jumbo, which of course threw that unfortunate man into convulsions. After this little incident a hasty breakfast was taken, the canoes were launched, and the voyage was continued. It is not necessary to trace the course of our explorers day by day as they ascended the Zambesi, or to recount all the adventures or misadventures that befell them on their journey into the interior. It is sufficient for the continuity of our tale to say that many days after leaving the coast they turned into the Shire river, which flows into the Zambesi about 150 miles from the coast. There are many fountain-heads of slavery in Africa. The region of the interior, which gives birth to the head-waters of the Shire river, is one of the chief of these. Here lies the great lake Nyassa, which was discovered and partly explored by Dr Livingstone, and hence flows a perennial stream of traffic to Kilwa, on the coast--which traffic, at the present time, consists almost exclusively of the two kinds of ivory, white and black, the former (elephants' tusks) being carried by the latter (slaves), by which means the slave-trade is rendered more profitable. Towards this populous and fertile region, then, our adventurers directed their course, when they turned out of the great river Zambesi and began to ascend the Shire. And here, at the very outset of this part of the journey, they met with a Portuguese settler, who did more to open their eyes to the blighting and withering influence of slavery on the land and on its people than anything they had yet seen. Towards the afternoon of the first day on the Shire, they landed near the encampment of the settler referred to, who turned out to be a gentleman of a Portuguese town on the Zambesi. Harold found, to his delight, that he could speak English fluently, and was, moreover, an exceedingly agreeable and well-informed man. He was out at the time on a hunting expedition, attended by a party of slaves. Harold spent the evening in very pleasant intercourse with Senhor Gamba, and at a later hour than usual returned to his camp, where he entertained Disco with an account of his new acquaintance. While thus engaged, he was startled by the most appalling shrieks, which proceeded from the neighbouring encampment. Under the impression that something was wrong, both he and Disco leaped up and ran towards it. There, to his amazement and horror, Harold beheld his agreeable friend Senhor Gamba thrashing a young slave unmercifully with a whip of the most formidable character. Only a few lashes from it had been given when Harold ran up, but these were so powerful that the unhappy victim dropped down in a state of insensibility just as he reached the spot. The Portuguese "gentleman" turned away from the prostrate slave with a scowl, but betrayed a slight touch of confusion on meeting the gaze of Harold Seadrift. "Senhor!" exclaimed the latter sternly, with mingled remonstrance and rebuke in his tone, "how _can_ you be so cruel? What has the boy done to merit such inhuman chastisement?" "He has neglected my orders," answered the Portuguese, as though he resented the tone in which Harold spoke. "But surely, surely," said Harold, "the punishment is far beyond the offence. I can scarcely believe the evidence of my own eyes and ears when they tell me that _you_ have been guilty of this." "Come," returned Senhor Gamba, softening into a smile, "you English cannot understand our case in this land. Because you do not keep slaves, you take the philanthropic, the religious view of the question. We who do keep slaves have a totally different experience. You cannot understand, you cannot sympathise with us." "No, truly, we can _not_ understand you," said Harold earnestly, "and God forbid that we should ever sympathise with you in this matter. We detest the gross injustice of slavery, and we abhor the fearful cruelties connected with it." "That is because, as I said, you are not in our position," rejoined the Senhor, with a shrug of his shoulders. "It is easy for you to take the philanthropic view, which, however, I admit to be the best, for in the eyes of God all men are equal, and though the African be a degraded man, I know enough of him to be sure that he can be raised by kindness and religion into a position not very inferior to our own; but we who keep slaves cannot help ourselves we _must_ act as we do." "Why so?--is cruelty a necessity?" asked Harold. "Yes, it is," replied the Senhor decidedly. "Then the abolition of slavery is a needcessity too," growled Disco, who had hitherto looked on and listened in silent wonder, debating with himself as to the propriety of giving Senhor Gamba, then and there, a sound thrashing with his own whip! "You see," continued the Portuguese, paying no attention to Disco's growl,--"You see, in order to live out here I must have slaves, and in order to keep slaves I must have a whip. My whip is no worse than any other whip that I know of. I don't justify it as right, I simply defend it as necessary. _Wherever slavery exists, discipline must of necessity be brutal_. If you keep slaves, and mean that they shall give you the labour of their bodies, and of their minds also, in so far as you permit them to have minds, you must degrade them by the whip and by all other means at your disposal until, like dogs, they become the unhesitating servants of your will, no matter what that will may be, and live for your pleasure only. It will never pay me to adopt your philanthropic, your religious views. I am here. I _must_ be here. What am I to do? Starve? No, not if I can help it. I do as others do--keep slaves and act as the master of slaves. I must use the whip. Perhaps you won't believe me," continued Senhor Gamba, with a sad smile, "but I speak truth when I say that I was tender-hearted when I first came to this country, for I had been well nurtured in Lisbon; but that soon passed away--it could not last. I was the laughing-stock of my companions. Just to explain my position, I will tell you a circumstance which happened soon after I came here. The Governor invited me to a party of pleasure. The party consisted of himself, his daughters, some officers, and others. We were to go in boats to a favourite island resort, several miles off. I took one of my slaves with me, a lad that I kept about my person. As we were going along, this lad fell into the river. He could not swim, and the tide was carrying him fast away to death. Dressed as I was, in full uniform, I plunged in after him and saved him. The wish alone to save the boy's life prompted me to risk my own. And for this I became the jest of the party; even the ladies tittered at my folly. Next evening the Governor had a large dinner-party. I was there. Having caught cold, I coughed slightly; this drew attention to me. Remarks were made, and the Governor alluded in scoffing terms to my exploit, which created much mirth. `Were you drunk?' said one. `Had you lost your senses, to risk your life for a brute of a negro?' said another. `Rather than spoil my uniform, I would have knocked him on the head with a pole,' said a third; and it was a long time before what they termed my folly was forgotten or forgiven. You think I am worse than others. I am not; but I do not condescend to their hypocrisy. What I am now, I have been made by this country and its associates." [These words are not fictitious. The remarks of Senhor Gamba were actually spoken by a Portuguese slave-owner, and will be found in _The Story of the Universities' Mission to Central Africa_, pages 64-5-6.] Senhor Gamba said this with the air of one who thinks that he has nearly, if not quite, justified himself. "I am no worse than others," is an excuse for evil conduct, not altogether unknown in more highly favoured lands, and is often followed by the illogical conclusion, "therefore I am not to blame," but although Harold felt pity for his agreeable chance acquaintance, he could not admit that this explanation excused him, nor could he get over the shock which his feelings had sustained; it was, therefore, with comparatively little regret that he bade him adieu on the following morning, and pursued his onward way. Everywhere along the Shire they met with a more or less hospitable reception from the natives, who regarded them with great favour, in consequence of their belonging to the same nation which had sent forth men to explore their country, defend them from the slave-dealer, and teach them about the true God. These men, of whom mention is made in another chapter, had, some time before this, been sent by the Church of England to the Manganja highlands, at the suggestion of Dr Livingstone, and laid, we believe, the foundation-stone of Christian civilisation in the interior of Africa, though God saw fit to arrest them in the raising of the superstructure. Among other pieces of useful knowledge conveyed by them to the negroes of the Shire, was the fact that Englishmen are not cannibals, and that they have no special longings after black man steaks! It may perchance surprise some readers to learn that black men ever entertain such a preposterous notion. Nevertheless, it is literally true. The slavers--Arabs and Portuguese--find it in their interest to instil this falsehood into the minds of the ignorant tribes of the interior, from whom the slaves are gathered, in order that their captives may entertain a salutary horror of Englishmen, so that if their dhows should be chased by our cruisers while creeping northward along the coast and run the risk of being taken, the slaves may willingly aid their captors in trying to escape. That the lesson has been well learnt and thoroughly believed is proved by the fact that when a dhow is obliged to run ashore to avoid capture, the slaves invariably take to the woods on the wings of terror, preferring, no doubt to be re-enslaved rather than to be roasted and eaten by white fiends. Indeed, so thoroughly has this been engrained into the native mind, that mothers frequently endeavour to overawe their refractory offspring by threatening to hand them over to the dreadful white monster who will eat them up if they don't behave! CHAPTER EIGHT. RELATES ADVENTURES IN THE SHIRE VALLEY, AND TOUCHES ON ONE OR TWO PHASES OF SLAVERY. Everything depends upon taste, as the monkey remarked when it took to nibbling the end of its own tail! If you like a thing, you take one view of it; if you don't like it, you take another view. Either view, if detailed, would be totally irreconcilable with the other. The lower part of the river Shire, into which our travellers had now entered, is a vast swamp. There are at least two opinions in regard to that region. To do justice to those with whom we don't sympathise, we give our opponent's view first. Our opponent, observe, is an honest and competent man; he speaks truly; he only looks at it in another light from Harold Seadrift and Disco Lillihammer. He says of the river Shire, "It drains a low and exceedingly fertile valley of from fifteen to twenty miles in breadth. Ranges of wooded hills bound this valley on both sides. After the first twenty miles you come to Mount Morambala, which rises with steep sides to 4000 feet in height. It is wooded to the top, and very beautiful. A small village peeps out about half-way up the mountain. It has a pure, bracing atmosphere, and is perched above mosquito range. The people on the summit have a very different climate and vegetation from those on the plains, and they live amidst luxuriant vegetation. There are many species of ferns, some so large as to deserve the name of trees. There are also lemon and orange trees growing wild, and birds and animals of all kinds." Thus far we agree with our opponent but listen to him as he goes on:-- "The view from Morambala is extensive, but cheerless past description. Swamp, swamp-reeking, festering, rotting, malaria-pregnant swamp, where poisonous vapours for several months in the year are ever bulging up and out into the air,--lies before you as far as the eye can reach, and farther. If you enter the river at the worst seasons of the year, the chances are you will take the worst type of fever. If, on the other hand, you enter it during the best season, when the swamps are fairly dried up, you have everything in your favour." Now, our opponent gives a true statement of facts undoubtedly, but his view of them is not cheering. Contrast them with the view of Disco Lillihammer. That sagacious seaman had entered the Shire neither in the "best" nor the "worst" of the season. He had chanced upon it somewhere between the two. "Git up your steam an' go 'longside," he said to Jumbo one afternoon, as the two canoes were proceeding quietly among magnificent giant-reeds, sedges, and bulrushes, which towered high above them--in some places overhung them. "I say, Mister Harold, ain't it splendid?" "Magnificent!" replied Harold with a look of quiet enthusiasm. "I _does_ enjoy a swamp," continued the seaman, allowing a thin cloud to trickle from his lips. "So do I, Disco." "There's such a many outs and ins an' roundabouts in it. And such powerful reflections o' them reeds in the quiet water. W'y, sir, I do declare w'en I looks through 'em in a dreamy sort of way for a long time I get to fancy they're palm-trees, an' that we're sailin' through a forest without no end to it; an' when I looks over the side an' sees every reed standin' on its other self, so to speak, an' follers the under one down till my eyes git lost in the blue sky an' clouds _below_ us, I do sometimes feel as if we'd got into the middle of fairy-land,-- was fairly afloat on the air, an' off on a voyage through the univarse! But it's them reflections as I like most. Every leaf, an' stalk, an' flag is just as good an' real _in_ the water as out of it. An' just look at that there frog, sir, that one on the big leaf which has swelled hisself up as if he wanted to bust, with his head looking up hopefully to the--ah! he's down with a plop like lead, but he wos sittin' on his own image which wos as clear as his own self. Then there's so much variety, sir--that's where it is. You never know wot you're comin' to in them swamps. It may be a openin' like a pretty lake, with islands of reeds everywhere; or it may be a narrow bit like a canal, or a river; or a bit so close that you go scrapin' the gun'les on both sides. An' the life, too, is most amazin'. Never saw nothin' like it nowhere. All kinds, big an' little, plain an' pritty, queer an' 'orrible, swarms here to sitch an extent that I've got it into my head that this Shire valley must be the great original nursery of animated nature." "It looks like it, Disco." The last idea appeared to furnish food for reflection, as the two friends here relapsed into silence. Although Disco's description was quaint, it could scarcely be styled exaggerated, for the swamp was absolutely alive with animal life. The principal occupant of these marshes is the elephant, and hundreds of these monster animals may be seen in one herd, feeding like cattle in a meadow. Owing to the almost impenetrable nature of the reedy jungle, however, it is impossible to follow them, and anxious though Disco was to kill one, he failed to obtain a single shot. Buffaloes and other large game were also numerous in this region, and in the water crocodiles and hippopotami sported about everywhere, while aquatic birds of every shape and size rendered the air vocal with their cries. Sometimes these feathered denizens of the swamp arose, when startled, in a dense cloud so vast that the mighty rush of their wings was almost thunderous in character. The crocodiles were not only numerous but dangerous because of their audacity. They used to watch at the places where native women were in the habit of going down to the river for water, and not unfrequently succeeded in seizing a victim. This, however, only happened at those periods when the Shire was in flood, when fish were driven from their wonted haunts, and the crocodiles were reduced to a state of starvation and consequent ferocity. One evening, while our travellers were proceeding slowly up stream, they observed the corpse of a negro boy floating past the canoe; just then a monstrous crocodile rushed at it with the speed of a greyhound, caught it and shook it as a terrier does a rat. Others dashed at the prey, each with his powerful tail causing the water to churn and froth as he tore off a piece. In a few seconds all was gone. [Livingstone's _Zambesi and its Tributaries_, page 452.] That same evening Zombo had a narrow escape. After dusk he ran down to the river to drink. He chanced to go to a spot where a crocodile was watching. It lay settled down in the mud with its head on a level with the water, so that in the feeble light it could not be seen. While Zombo was busy laving the water into his mouth it suddenly rushed at him and caught him by the hand. The limb of a bush was fortunately within reach, and he laid hold of it. There was a brief struggle. The crocodile tugged hard, but the man tugged harder; at the same time he uttered a yell which brought Jumbo to his side with an oar, a blow from which drove the hideous reptile away. Poor Zombo was too glad to have escaped with his life to care much about the torn hand, which rendered him _hors de combat_ for some time after that. Although Disco failed to get a shot at an elephant, his hopeful spirit was gratified by the catching of a baby elephant alive. It happened thus:-- One morning, not very long after Zombo's tussle with the crocodile, Disco's canoe, which chanced to be in advance, suddenly ran almost into the midst of a herd of elephants which were busy feeding on palm-nuts, of which they are very fond. Instantly the whole troop scattered and fled. Disco, taken completely by surprise, omitted his wonted "Hallo!" as he made an awkward plunge at his rifle, but before he could bring it to bear, the animals were over the bank of the river and lost in the dense jungle. But a fine little elephant, at that period of life which, in human beings, might be styled the toddling age, was observed to stumble while attempting to follow its mother up the bank. It fell and rolled backwards. "Give way for your lives!" roared Disco. The boat shot its bow on the bank, and the seaman flew rather than leaped upon the baby elephant! The instant it was laid hold of it began to scream with incessant and piercing energy after the fashion of a pig. "Queek! come in canoe! Modder come back for 'im," cried Jumbo in some anxiety. Disco at once appreciated the danger of the enraged mother returning to the rescue, but, resolved not to resign his advantage, he seized the vicious little creature by the proboscis and dragged it by main force to the canoe, into which he tumbled, hauled the proboscis inboard, as though it had been the bite of a cable, and held on. "Shove off! shove off! and give way, lads! Look alive!" The order was promptly obeyed, and in a few minutes the baby was dragged into the boat and secured. This prize, however, was found to be more of a nuisance than an amusement and it was soon decided that it must be disposed of. Accordingly, that very night, much to the regret of the men who wanted to make a meal of it, Disco led his baby squealing into the jungle and set it free with a hearty slap on the flank, and an earnest recommendation to make all sail after its venerable mother, which it did forthwith, cocking its ears and tail, and shrieking as it went. Two days after this event they made a brief halt at a poor village where they were hospitably received by the chief, who was much gratified by the liberal quantity of calico with which the travellers paid for their entertainment. Here they met with a Portuguese half-caste who was reputed one of the greatest monsters of cruelty in that part of the country. He was, however, not much more villainous in aspect than many other half-castes whom they saw. He was on his way to the coast in a canoe manned by slaves. If Harold and Disco had known that this was his last journey to the coast they would have regarded him with greater interest. As it was, having learned his history from the chief through their interpreter, they turned from him with loathing. As this half-caste's career illustrates the depths to which humanity may fall in the hot-bed of slavery, as well as, to some extent, the state of things existing under Portuguese rule on the east coast of Africa, we give the particulars briefly. Instead of the whip, this man used the gun, which he facetiously styled his "minister of justice," and, in mere wantonness, he was known to have committed murder again and again, yet no steps were taken by the authorities to restrain, much less to punish him. Men heard of his murders, but they shrugged their shoulders and did nothing. It was only a wild beast of a negro that was killed, they said, and what was that! They seemed to think less of it than if he had shot a hippopotamus. One of his murders was painfully notorious, even to its minutest particulars. Over the female slaves employed in a house and adjacent lands there is usually placed a head-woman, a slave also, chosen for such an office for her blind fidelity to her master. This man had one such woman, one who had ever been faithful to him and his interests, who had never provoked him by disobedience or ill-conduct, and against whom, therefore, he could have no cause of complaint. One day when half drunk he was lying on a couch in his house; his forewoman entered and made herself busy with some domestic work. As her master lay watching her, his savage disposition found vent in a characteristic joke: "Woman," said he, "I think I will shoot you." The woman turned round and said, "Master, I am your slave; you can do what you will with me. You can kill me if you like; I can do nothing. But don't kill me, master, for if you do, who is there to look after your other women? they will all run away from you." She did not mean to irritate her master, but instantly the man's brutal egotism was aroused. The savage jest became a fearful reality, and he shouted with rage:-- "Say you that! say you that! fetch me my gun. I will see if my women will run away after I have killed you." Trained to implicit obedience, the poor woman did as she was bid. She brought the gun and handed him powder and ball. At his command she knelt down before him, and the wretch fired at her breast. In his drunken rage he missed his mark--the ball went through her shoulder. She besought him to spare her. Deaf to her entreaties, he ordered her to fetch more powder and ball. Though wounded and in agony, she obeyed him. Again the gun was loaded, again levelled and fired, and the woman fell dead at his feet. [The above narrative is quoted almost _verbatim_ from _The Story of the Universities' Mission to Central Africa_, pages 78 and 79, the author of which vouches for its accuracy.] The facts of this case were known far and wide. The Portuguese Governor was acquainted with them, as well as the ministers of justice, but no one put forth a hand to punish the monster, or to protect his slaves. But vengeance overtook him at last. On his way down the Zambesi he shot one of his men. The others, roused to irresistible fury, sprang upon him and strangled him. _Then_, indeed, the Governor and Magistrates were roused to administer "justice!" They had allowed this fiend to murder slaves at his will, but no sooner had the slaves turned on and killed their master than ceaseless energy and resolution were displayed in punishing those who slew him. Soldiers were sent out in all directions; some of the canoe-men were shot down like wild beasts, the rest were recaptured and publicly whipped to death! Reader, this is "domestic slavery." This is what Portugal and Zanzibar claim the right to practise. This is what Great Britain has for many years declined to interfere with. This is the curse with which Africa is blighted at the present day in some of her fairest lands, and this is what Portugal has decreed shall not terminate in what she calls her African dominions for some years to come. In other words, it has been coolly decreed by that weakest of all the European nations, that slavery, murder, injustice, and every other conceivable and unmentionable vice and villainy shall still, for some considerable time, continue to be practised on the men, women, and children of Africa! Higher up the Shire river, the travellers saw symptoms of recent distress among the people, which caused them much concern. Chimbolo, in particular, was rendered very anxious by the account given of the famine which prevailed still farther up the river, and the numerous deaths that had taken place in consequence. The cause of the distress was a common one, and easily explained. Slave-dealers had induced the Ajawa, a warlike tribe, to declare war against the people of the Manganja highlands. The Ajawa had done this before, and were but too ready to do it again. They invaded the land, captured many of the young people, and slew the aged. Those who escaped to the jungle found on their return that their crops were destroyed. Little seed remained in their possession, and before that was planted and grown, famine began to reduce the ranks, already thinned by war. Indications of this sad state of things became more numerous as the travellers advanced. Few natives appeared to greet them on the banks of the river as they went along, and these few resembled living skeletons. In many places they found dead bodies lying on the ground in various stages of decomposition, and everywhere they beheld an aspect of settled unutterable despair on the faces of the scattered remnant of the bereaved and starving people. It was impossible, in the circumstances, for Harold Seadrift to give these wretched people more than very slight relief. He gave them as much of his stock of provisions as he could spare, and was glad when the necessity of continuing the journey on foot relieved him from such mournful scenes by taking him away from the river's bank. Hiring a party of the strongest men that he could find among them, he at length left his canoes, made up his goods, food, and camp-equipage into bundles of a shape and size suitable to being carried on the heads of men, and started on foot for the Manganja highlands. "Seems to me, sir," observed Disco, as they plodded along together on the first morning of the land journey--"seems to me, sir, that Chimbolo don't stand much chance of findin' his wife alive." "Poor fellow," replied Harold, glancing back at the object of their remarks, "I fear not." Chimbolo had by that time recovered much of his natural vigour, and although not yet able to carry a man's load, was nevertheless quite capable of following the party. He walked in silence, with his eyes on the ground, a few paces behind Antonio, who was a step or two in rear of his leader, and who, in virtue of his position as "bo's'n" to the party, was privileged to walk hampered by no greater burden than his gun. "We must keep up his sperrits, tho', poor chap," said Disco, in the hoarse whisper with which he was wont to convey secret remarks, and which was much more fitted to attract attention than his ordinary voice. "It 'ud never do to let his sperrits down; 'cause w'y? he's weak, an' if he know'd that his wife was dead, or took off as a slave, he'd never be able to go along with us, and we couldn't leave him to starve here, you know." "Certainly not, Disco," returned Harold. "Besides, his wife _may_ be alive, for all we know to the contrary.--How far did he say the village was from where we landed, Antonio?" "'Bout two, t'ree days," answered the bo's'n. That night the party encamped beside the ruins of a small hamlet where charred sticks and fragments of an African household's goods and chattels lay scattered on the ground. Chimbolo sat down here on the ground, and, resting his chin on his knees, gazed in silence at the ruin around him. "Come, cheer up, old fellow," cried Disco, with rather an awkward effort at heartiness, as he slapped the negro gently on the shoulder; "tell him, Antonio, not to let his heart go down. Didn't he say that what-dee-call-the-place--his village--was a strong place, and could be easily held by a few brave men?" "True," replied Chimbolo, through the interpreter, "but the Manganja men are not very brave." "Well, well, never mind," rejoined the sympathetic tar, repeating his pat on the back, "there's no sayin'. P'raps they got courage w'en it came to the scratch. P'raps it never came to the scratch at all up there. Mayhap you'll find 'em all right after all. Come, never say die s'long as there's a shot in the locker. That's a good motto for 'ee, Chimbolo, and ought to keep up your heart even tho' ye _are_ a nigger, 'cause it wos inwented by the great Nelson, and shouted by him, or his bo's'n, just before he got knocked over at the glorious battle of Trafalgar. Tell him that, Antonio." Whether Antonio told him all that, is extremely doubtful, although he complied at once with the order, for Antonio never by any chance declined at least to attempt the duties of his station, but the only effect of his speech was that Chimbolo shook his head and continued to stare at the ruins. Next morning they started early, and towards evening drew near to Zomba. The country through which, during the previous two days, they had travelled, was very beautiful, and as wild as even Disco could desire-- and, by the way, it was no small degree of wildness that could slake the thirst for the marvellous which had been awakened in the breast of our tar, by his recent experiences in Africa. It was, he said--and said truly--a real out-and-out wilderness. There were villages everywhere, no doubt but these were so thickly concealed by trees and jungle that they were not easily seen, and most of them were at that time almost depopulated. The grass was higher than the heads of the travellers, and the vegetation everywhere was rankly luxuriant. Here and there open glades allowed the eye to penetrate into otherwise impenetrable bush. Elsewhere, large trees abounded in the midst of overwhelmingly affectionate parasites, whose gnarled lower limbs and twining tendrils and pendant foliage gave a softness to the landscape, which contrasted well with the wild passes and rugged rocks of the middle distance, and the towering mountains which rose, range beyond range, in the far distance. But as the party approached the neighbourhood of Zomba mountains, few of them were disposed to give much heed to the beauties of nature. All being interested in Chimbolo, they became more or less anxious as to news that awaited him. On turning a spur of one of the mountains which had hitherto barred their vision, they found themselves suddenly face to face with a small band of Manganja men, whose woe-begone countenances told too eloquently that the hand of the destroyer had been heavy upon them. Of course they were questioned by Chimbolo, and the replies they gave him were such as to confirm the fears he had previously entertained. The Ajawa, they said, had, just the day before, burnt their villages, stolen or destroyed their property, killed many of their kinsmen, and carried off their wives and children for slaves. They themselves had escaped, and were now on their way to visit their chief, who was at that time on the banks of the Zambesi, to beg of him to return, in order that he might bewitch the guns of the Ajawa, and so render them harmless! "Has a woman of your tribe, named Marunga, been slain or captured?" asked Chimbolo eagerly. To this the men replied that they could not tell. Marunga, they said, was known well to them by name and sight. They did not think she was among the captives, but could not tell what had become of her, as the village where she and her little boy lived had been burnt, and all who had not been killed or captured had taken to the bush. Marunga's husband, they added, was a man named Chimbolo--not a Manganja man, but a friend of the tribe--who had been taken by the slavers, under command of a Portuguese half-caste named Marizano, about two years before that time. Chimbolo winced as though he had been stung when Marizano's name was mentioned, and a dark frown contracted his brows when he told the Manganja men that _he_ was Chimbolo, and that he was even then in search of Marunga and her little boy. When all this had been explained to Harold Seadrift he told the men that it was a pity to waste time in travelling such a long way to see their chief, who could not, even if he wished, bewitch the guns of the Ajawa, and advised them to turn back and guide him and his men to the place where the attack had been made on the Manganja, so that a search might be made in the bush for those of the people who had escaped. This was agreed to, and the whole party proceeded on their way with increased speed, Chimbolo and Harold hoping they might yet find that Marunga had escaped, and Disco earnestly desiring that they might only fall in with the Ajawa and have a brush with them, in which case he assured the negroes he would show them a way of bewitching their guns that would beat their chief's bewitchment all to sticks and stivers! The village in which Marunga had dwelt was soon reached. It was, as they had been told by their new friends, a heap of still smouldering ashes; but it was not altogether destitute of signs of life. A dog was observed to slink away into the bush as they approached. The moment Chimbolo observed it he darted into the bush after it. "Hallo!" exclaimed Disco in surprise; "that nigger seems to have took a sudden fancy to the cur?--Eh, Antonio, wot's the reason of that, think 'ee?" "Dunno; s'pose where dog be mans be?" "Ah! or womans," suggested Disco. "Or womans," assented Antonio. Just then they heard Chimbolo's shout, which was instantly followed by a succession of female shrieks. These latter were repeated several times, and sounded as though the fugitives were scattering. "Hims find a nest of womins!" exclaimed Jumbo, throwing down his load and dashing away into the bush. Every individual of the party followed his example, not excepting Harold and Disco, the latter of whom was caught by the leg, the moment he left the track, by a wait-a-bit thorn--most appropriately so-called, because its powerful spikes are always ready to seize and detain the unwary passer-by. In the present instance it checked the seaman's career for a few seconds, and rent his nether garments sadly; while Harold, profiting by his friend's misfortune, leaped over the bush, and passed on. Disco quickly extricated himself, and followed. They were not left far behind, and overtook their comrades just as they emerged on an open space, or glade, at the extremity of which a sight met their eyes that filled them with astonishment, for there a troop of women and one or two boys were seen walking towards them, with Chimbolo in front, having a child on his left shoulder, and performing a sort of insane war-dance round one of the women. "He's catched her!" exclaimed Disco, with excited looks, just as if Chimbolo had been angling unsuccessfully for a considerable time, and had hooked a stupendous fish at last. And Disco was right. A few of the poor creatures who were so recently burnt out of their homes, and had lost most of those dearest to them, had ventured, as if drawn by an irresistible spell, to return with timid steps to the scene of their former happiness, but only to have their worst fears confirmed. Their homes, their protectors, their children, their hopes, all were gone at one fell swoop. Only one among them--one who, having managed to save her only child, had none to mourn over, and no one to hope to meet with--only one returned to a joyful meeting. We need scarcely say that this was Marunga. The fact was instantly made plain to the travellers by the wild manner in which Chimbolo shouted her name, pointed to her, and danced round her, while he showed all his glistening teeth and as much of the whites of his eyes as was consistent with these members remaining in their orbits. Really it was quite touching, in spite of its being ludicrous, the way in which the poor fellow poured forth his joy like a very child,--which he was in everything except years; and Harold could not help remembering, and recalling to Disco's memory, Yoosoof's observations touching the hardness of negroes' hearts, and their want of natural affection, on the morning when his dhow was captured by the boat of the "Firefly." The way in which, ever and anon, Chimbolo kissed his poor but now happy wife, was wondrously similar to the mode in which white men perform that little operation, except that there was more of an unrefined smack in it. The tears which _would_ hop over his sable cheeks now and then sparkled to the full as brightly as European tears, and were perhaps somewhat bigger; and the pride with which he regarded his little son, holding him in both hands out at arms'-length, was only excelled by the joy and the tremendous laugh with which he received a kick on the nose from that undutiful son's black little toes. But Yoosoof never chanced to be present when such exhibitions of negro feeling and susceptibility took place. How could he, seeing that men and women and children--if black--fled from him, and such as he, in abject terror? Neither did Yoosoof ever chance to be present when women sat down beside their blackened hearths, as they did that night, and quietly wept as though their hearts would burst at the memory of little voices and manly tones--not silent in death, but worse than that--gone, gone _for ever_! Doubtless they felt though they never heard of, and could not in words express, the sentiment-- "Oh for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still." Yoosoof knew not of, and cared nothing for, such feelings as these. We ask again, how could he? His only experience of the negro was when cowering before him as a slave, or when yelling in agony under his terrible lash, or when brutalised and rendered utterly apathetic by inhuman cruelty. Harold learned, that night on further conversation with the Manganja men, that a raid had recently been made into those regions by more than one band of slavers, sent out to capture men and women by the Portuguese half-castes of the towns of Senna and Tette, on the Zambesi, and that they had been carrying the inhabitants out of the country at the rate of about two hundred a week. This however was but a small speck, so to speak, of the mighty work of kidnapping human beings that was going on--that is _still_ going on in those regions. Yoosoof would have smiled--he never laughed--if you had mentioned such a number as being large. But in truth he cared nothing about such facts, except in so far as they represented a large amount of profit accrueing to himself. The result of Harold Seadrift's cogitations on these matters was that he resolved to pass through as much of the land as he could within a reasonable time, and agreed to accompany Chimbolo on a visit to his tribe, which dwelt at some distance to the north of the Manganja highlands. CHAPTER NINE. IN WHICH A SAVAGE CHIEF ASTONISHES A SAVAGE ANIMAL. There is something exceedingly pleasant in the act of watching-- ourselves unseen--the proceedings of some one whose aims and ends appear to be very mysterious. There is such a wide field of speculation opened up in which to expatiate, such a vast amount of curious, we had almost said romantic, expectation created; all the more if the individual whom we observe be a savage, clothed in an unfamiliar and very scanty garb, and surrounded by scenery and circumstances which, albeit strange to us, are evidently by no means new to him. Let us--you and me, reader,--quitting for a time the sad subject of slavery, and leaping, as we are privileged to do, far ahead of our explorers Harold Seadrift and his company, into the region of Central Africa; let you and me take up a position in a clump of trees by the banks of yonder stream, and watch the proceedings of that negro--negro chief let me say, for he looks like one,--who is engaged in some mysterious enterprise under the shade of a huge baobab tree. The chief is a fine, stately, well-developed specimen of African manhood. He is clothed in black tights manufactured in nature's loom, in addition to which he wears round his loins a small scrap of artificial cotton cloth. If an enthusiastic member of the Royal Academy were in search of a model which should combine the strength of Hercules with the grace of Apollo, he could not find a better than the man before us, for, you will observe, the more objectionable points about _our_ ideal of the negro are not very prominent in him. His lips are not thicker than the lips of many a roast-beef-loving John Bull. His nose is not flat, and his heels do not protrude unnecessarily. True, his hair is woolly, but that is scarcely a blemish. It might almost be regarded as the crisp and curly hair that surrounds a manly skull. His skin is black--no doubt about that, but then it is _intensely_ black and glossy, suggestive of black satin, and having no savour of that dirtiness which is inseparably connected with whitey-brown. Tribes in Africa differ materially in many respects, physically and mentally, just as do the various tribes of Europe. This chief, as we have hinted, is a "savage;" that is to say, he differs in many habits and points from "civilised" people. Among other peculiarities, he clothes himself and his family in the fashion that is best suited to the warm climate in which he dwells. This display of wisdom is, as you know, somewhat rare among civilised people, as any one may perceive who observes how these over-clothe the upper parts of their children, and leave their tender little lower limbs exposed to the rigours of northern latitudes, while, as if to make up for this inconsistency by an inconsistent counterpoise, they swathe their own tough and mature limbs in thick flannel from head to foot. It is however simple justice to civilised people to add here that a few of them, such as a portion of the Scottish Highlanders, are consistent inasmuch as the men clothe themselves similarly to the children. Moreover, our chief, being a savage, takes daily a sufficient amount of fresh air and exercise, which nine-tenths of civilised men refrain from doing, on the economic and wise principle, apparently, that engrossing and unnatural devotion to the acquisition of wealth, fame, or knowledge, will enable them at last to spend a few paralytic years in the enjoyment of their gains. No doubt civilised people have the trifling little drawback of innumerable ills, to which they say (erroneously, we think) that flesh is heir, and for the cure of which much of their wealth is spent in supporting an army of doctors. Savages know nothing of indigestion, and in Central Africa they have no medical men. There is yet another difference which we may point out: savages have no literature. They cannot read or write therefore, and have no permanent records of the deeds of their forefathers. Neither have they any religion worthy of the name. This is indeed a serious evil, one which civilised people of course deplore, yet, strange to say, one which consistency prevents some civilised people from remedying in the case of African savages, for it would be absurdly inconsistent in Arab Mohammedans to teach the negroes letters and the doctrines of their faith with one hand, while with the other they lashed them to death or dragged them into perpetual slavery; and it would be equally inconsistent in Portuguese Christians to teach the negroes to read "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them," while "domestic slavery" is, in their so-called African territories, claimed as a right and the traffic connected with it sanctioned. Yes, there are many points of difference between civilised people and savages, and we think it right to point this out very clearly, good reader, because the man at whom you and I are looking just now is a savage. Of course, being capable of reading this book, you are too old to require to be told that there is nothing of our _nursery_ savage about him. That peculiar abortion was born and bred in the nursery, and dwells only there, and was never heard of beyond civilised lands-- although something not unlike him, alas! may be seen here and there among the lanes and purlieus where our drunkards and profligates resort. No; our savage chief does not roar, or glare, or chatter, or devour his food in its blood like the giant of the famous Jack. He carries himself like a man, and a remarkably handsome man too, with his body firm and upright, and his head bent a little forward, with his eyes fixed on the ground, as if in meditation, while he walks along. But a truce to digressive explanation. Let us follow him. Reaching the banks of the river, he stops, and, standing in an attitude worthy of Apollo, though he is not aware that we are looking at him, gazes first up the stream and then down. This done, he looks across, after which he tries to penetrate the depths of the water with his eye. As no visible result follows, he wisely gives up staring and wishing, and apparently resolves to attain his ends by action. Felling a small tree, about as thick as his thigh, with an iron hatchet he cuts off it a length of about six feet. Into one end of this he drives a sharp-pointed hard-wood spike, several inches long, and to the other end attaches a stout rope made of the fibrous husk of the cocoa-nut. The point of the spike he appears to anoint--probably a charm of some kind,--and then suspends the curious instrument over a forked stick at a considerable height from the ground, to which he fastens the other end of the rope. This done, he walks quietly away with an air of as much self-satisfaction as if he had just performed a generous deed. Well, is that all? Nay, if that were all we should owe you a humble apology. Our chief, "savage" though he be, is not insane. He _has_ an object in view--which is more than can be said of everybody. He has not been long gone, an hour or two, when the smooth surface of the river is broken in several places, and out burst two or three heads of hippopotami. Although, according to Disco Lillihammer, the personification of ugliness, these creatures do not the less enjoy their existence. They roll about in the stream like puncheons, dive under one another playfully, sending huge waves to the banks on either side. They gape hideously with their tremendous jaws, which look as though they had been split much too far back in the head by a rude hatchet--the tops of all the teeth having apparently been lopped off by the same clumsy blow. They laugh too, with a demoniacal "Ha! ha! ha!" as if they rejoiced in their excessive plainness, and knew that we--you and I, reader--are regarding them with disgust, not unmingled with awe. Presently one of the herd betakes himself to the land. He is tired of play, and means to feed. Grass appears to be his only food, and to procure this he must needs go back from the river a short way, his enormous lips, like an animated mowing-machine, cutting a track of short cropped grass as he waddles along. The form of that part of the bank is such that he is at least inclined, if not constrained, to pass directly under the suspended beam. Ha! we understand the matter now. Most people do understand, when a thing becomes obviously plain. The hippopotamus wants grass for supper; the "savage" chief wants hippopotamus. Both set about arranging their plans for their respective ends. The hippopotamus passes close to the forked stick, and touches the cord which sustains it in air like the sword of Damocles. Down comes the beam, driving the spike deep into his back. A cry follows, something between a grunt, a squeak, and a yell, and the wounded animal falls, rolls over, jumps up, with unexpected agility for such a sluggish, unwieldy creature, and rumbles, rushes, rolls, and stumbles back into the river, where his relatives take to flight in mortal terror. The unfortunate beast might perhaps recover from the wound, were it not that the spike has been tipped with poison. The result is that he dies in about an hour. Not long afterwards the chief returns with a band of his followers, who, being experts in the use of the knife and hatchet, soon make mince-meat of their game--laden with which they return in triumph to their homes. Let us follow them thither. CHAPTER TEN. DESCRIBES AFRICAN DOMESTICITY, AND MANY OTHER THINGS RELATIVE THERETO, BESIDES SHOWING THAT ALARMS AND FLIGHTS, SURPRISES AND FEASTS, ARE NOT CONFINED TO PARTICULAR PLACES. When our negro chief--whose name, by the way, was Kambira--left the banks of the river, followed by his men bearing the hippopotamus-flesh, he set off at a swinging pace, like to a man who has a considerable walk before him. The country through which they passed was not only well wooded, but well watered by numerous rivulets. Their path for some distance tended upwards towards the hills, now crossing over mounds, anon skirting the base of precipitous rocks, and elsewhere dipping down into hollows; but although thus serpentine in its course, its upward tendency never varied until it led them to the highest parts of a ridge from which a magnificent prospect was had of hill and dale, lake, rivulet and river, extending so far that the distant scenery at the horizon appeared of a thin pearly-grey colour, and of the same consistency as the clouds with which it mingled. Passing over this ridge, and descending into a wide valley which was fertilised and beautified by a moderately-sized rivulet, Kambira led his followers towards a hamlet which lay close to the stream, nestled in a woody hollow, and, like all other Manganja villages, was surrounded by an impenetrable hedge of poisonous euphorbia--a tree which casts a deep shade, and renders it difficult for bowmen to aim at the people inside. In the immediate vicinity of the village the land was laid out in little gardens and fields, and in these the people--men, women, and children,-- were busily engaged in hoeing the ground, weeding, planting, or gathering the fruits of their labour. These same fruits were plentiful, and the people sang with joy as they worked. There were large crops of maize, millet beans, and ground-nuts; also patches of yams, rice, pumpkins, cucumbers, cassava, sweet potatoes, tobacco, cotton, and hemp, which last is also called "bang," and is smoked by the natives as a species of tobacco. It was a pleasant sight for Kambira and his men to look upon, as they rested for a few minutes on the brow of a knoll near a thicket of bramble bushes, and gazed down upon their home. Doubtless they thought so, for their eyes glistened, so also did their teeth when they smilingly commented on the scene before them. They did not, indeed, become enthusiastic about scenery, nor did they refer to the picturesque grouping of huts and trees, or make any allusion whatever to light and shade; no, their thoughts were centred on far higher objects than these. They talked of wives and children, and hippopotamus-flesh; and their countenances glowed--although they were not white--and their strong hearts beat hard against their ribs--although they were not clothed, and their souls (for we repudiate Yoosoof's opinion that they had none), their souls appeared to take quiet but powerful interest in their belongings. It was pleasant also, for Kambira and his men to listen to the sounds that floated up from the valley,--sweeter far than the sweetest strains of Mozart or Mendelssohn,--the singing of the workers in the fields and gardens, mellowed by distance into a soft humming tone; and the hearty laughter that burst occasionally from men seated at work on bows, arrows, fishing-nets, and such-like gear, on a flat green spot under the shade of a huge banyan-tree, which, besides being the village workshop, was the village reception-hall, where strangers were entertained on arriving,--also the village green, where the people assembled to dance, and sing, and smoke "bang," to which last they were much addicted, and to drink beer made by themselves, of which they were remarkably fond, and by means of which they sometimes got drunk;--in all which matters the intelligent reader will not fail to observe that they bore a marked resemblance to many of the civilised European nations, except, perhaps, in their greater freedom of action, lightness of costume, and colour of skin. The merry voices of children, too, were heard, and their active little black bodies were seen, while they engaged in the play of savages-- though not necessarily in savage play. Some romped, ran after each other, caught each other, tickled each other, occasionally whacked each other--just as our own little ones do. Others played at games, of which the skipping-rope was a decided favourite among the girls, but the play of most of the older children consisted in imitating the serious work of their parents. The girls built little huts, hoed little gardens, made small pots of clay, pounded imaginary corn in miniature mortars, cooked it over ideal fires, and crammed it down the throats of imitation babies; while the boys performed deeds of chivalric daring with reed spears, small shields, and tiny bows and arrows, or amused themselves in making cattle-pens, and in sculpturing cows and crocodiles. Human nature, in short, was powerfully developed, without anything particular to suggest the idea of "savage" life, or to justify the opinion of Arabs and half-caste Portuguese that black men are all "cattle." The scene wanted only the spire of a village church and the tinkle of a Sabbath bell to make it perfect. But there _was_ a tinkle among the other sounds, not unlike a bell which would have sounded marvellously familiar to English ears had they been listening. This was the ringing of the anvil of the village blacksmith. Yes, savage though they were, these natives had a blacksmith who wrought in iron, almost as deftly, and to the full as vigorously, as any British son of Vulcan. The Manganja people are an industrious race. Besides cultivating the soil extensively, they dig iron-ore out of the hills, and each village has its smelting-house, its charcoal-burners, its forge with a pair of goatskin bellows, and its blacksmith--we might appropriately say, its _very_ blacksmith! Whether the latter would of necessity, and as a matter of course, sing bass in church if the land were civilised enough to possess a church, remains to be seen! At the time we write of he merely hummed to the sound of the hammer, and forged hoes, axes, spears, needles, arrow-heads, bracelets, armlets, necklets, and anklets, with surprising dexterity. Pity that he could not forge a chain which would for ever restrain the murderous hands of the Arabs and half-caste Portuguese, who, for ages, have blighted his land with their pestilential presence! After contemplating the picture for a time, Kambira descended the winding path that led to the village. He had not proceeded far when one of the smallest of the children--a creature so rotund that his body and limbs were a series of circles and ovals, and so black that it seemed an absurdity even to think of casting a shadow on him--espied the advancing party, uttered a shrill cry of delight, and ran towards them. His example was followed by a dozen others, who, being larger, outran him, and, performing a war-dance round the men, possessed themselves, by amicable theft, of pieces of raw meat with which they hastened back to the village. The original discoverer of the party, however, had other ends in view. He toddled straight up to Kambira with the outstretched arms of a child who knows he will be welcomed. Kambira was not demonstrative, but he was hearty. Taking the little ball of black butter by the arms, he whirled him over his head, and placed him on his broad shoulders, with a fat leg on each side of his neck, and left him there to look after himself. This the youngster did by locking his feet together under the man's chin, and fastening his fat fingers in his woolly hair, in which position he bore some resemblance to an enormous chignon. Thus was he borne crowing to the chief's hut, from the door of which a very stout elderly woman came out to receive them. There was no one else in the hut to welcome them, but Yohama, as the chief styled her, was sufficient; she was what some people call "good company." She bustled about making preparations for a feast, with a degree of activity that was quite surprising in one so fat--so very fat--asking questions the while with much volubility, making remarks to the child, criticising the hippopotamus-meat, or commenting on things in general. Meanwhile Kambira seated himself in a corner and prepared to refresh himself with a pipe of bang in the most natural and civilised fashion imaginable; and young Obo--for so Yohama called him--entered upon a series of gymnastic exercises with his father--for such Kambira was-- which partook of the playfulness of the kitten, mingled with the eccentricity and mischief of the monkey. It would have done you good, reader, if you possess a spark of sympathy, to have watched these two as they played together. The way in which Obo assaulted his father, on whose visage mild benignity was enthroned, would have surprised you. Kambira was a remarkably grave, quiet and reserved man, but that was a matter of no moment to Obo, who threatened him in front, skirmished in his rear, charged him on the right flank with a reed spear, shelled him on the left with sweet potatoes, and otherwise harassed him with amazing perseverance and ingenuity. To this the enemy paid no further attention than lay in thrusting out an elbow and raising a knee, to check an unusually fierce attack, or in giving Obo a pat on the back when he came within reach, or sending a puff of smoke in his face, as if to taunt and encourage him to attempt further deeds of daring. While this was going on in the chief's hut, active culinary preparations were progressing all over the village--the women forsook their hoes and grinding-mortars, and the looms on which they had been weaving cotton cloth, the men laid down various implements of industry, and, long ere the sun began to descend in the west, the entire tribe was feasting with all the gusto, and twenty times the appetite, of aldermen. During the progress of the feast a remarkably small, wiry old negro, entertained the chief and his party with a song, accompanying himself the while on a violin--not a European fiddle, by any means, but a native production--with something like a small keg, covered with goatskin, for a body, a longish handle, and one string which was played with a bow by the "Spider." Never having heard his name, we give him one in accordance with his aspect. Talk of European fiddlers! No Paganini, or any other _nini_ that ever astonished the Goths and Vandals of the north, could hold a candle--we had almost said a fiddle--to this sable descendant of Ham, who, squatted on his hams in the midst of an admiring circle, drew forth sounds from his solitary string that were more than exquisite,--they were excruciating. The song appeared to be improvised, for it referred to objects around, as well as to things past, present, and to come; among others, to the fact that slave parties attacked villages and carried off the inhabitants. At such points the minstrel's voice became low and thrilling, while his audience grew suddenly earnest, opened their eyes, frowned, and showed their teeth; but as soon as the subject was changed the feeling seemed to die away. It was only old memories that had been awakened, for no slavers had passed through their country for some time past, though rumours of an attack on a not very distant tribe had recently reached and greatly alarmed them. Thus they passed the afternoon, and when the cool of the evening drew on a dance was proposed, seconded, and carried unanimously. They were about to begin when a man was seen running down the path leading to the village at a speed which proved him to be the bearer of tidings. In a few minutes he burst into the midst of them with glaring eyeballs and labouring chest--for he had run fast, though not far, and told his news in rapid short sentences--to the effect that a band of slavers, led by Portuguese, were on their way to the valley, within a mile or so of it, even while he spoke; that he thought the leader was Marizano; and that they were _armed with the loud-sounding guns_! The consternation consequent on this news was universal, and there was good ground for it, because Marizano was a well-known monster of cruelty, and his guns had rendered him invincible hitherto, wherever he went, the native spear and bow being utterly useless in the hands of men who, however courageous, were shot down before they could come within arrow-range of their enemies. It is the custom of the slave-dealers, on going into the interior for the purpose of procuring slaves, to offer to buy them from such tribes as are disposed to sell. This most of the tribes are willing to do. Fathers do not indeed, sell their own children, or husbands their wives, from preference, but chiefs and head-men are by no means loath to get rid of their criminals in this way--their bad stock, as it were, of black ivory. They also sell orphans and other defenceless ones of their tribes, the usual rate of charge being about two or three yards of calico for a man, woman, or child. But the Arab slave-dealer sometimes finds it difficult to procure enough of "cattle" in this way to make up a band sufficiently large to start with for the coast because he is certain to lose four out of every five, at the _lowest estimate_, on his journey down. The drove, therefore, must be large. In order to provide it he sends out parties to buy where they can, and to steal when they have the chance. Meanwhile he takes up his quarters near some tribe, and sets about deliberately to produce war. He rubs up old sores, foments existing quarrels, lends guns and ammunition, suggests causes of dispute, and finally gets two tribes to fight. Of course many are slaughtered, fearful barbarities and excesses are committed, fields are laid waste and villages are burnt, but this is a matter of no consequence to our Arab. Prisoners are sure to be taken, and he buys the prisoners; for the rest,--there are plenty of natives in Africa! When all else fails, not being very particular, he sends off a party under some thorough-going scoundrel, well-armed, and with instructions to attack and capture wherever they go. No wonder, then, that the rumoured approach of Marizano and his men caused the utmost alarm in Kambira's village, and that the women and children were ordered to fly to the bush without delay. This they required no second bidding to do, but, oh! it was a sad sight to see them do it. The younger women ran actively, carrying the infants and leading the smaller children by the hands, and soon disappeared; but it was otherwise with the old people. These, men and women, bowed with age, and tottering as much from terror as decrepitude, hobbled along, panting as they went, and stumbling over every trifling obstruction in their path, being sometimes obliged to stop and rest, though death might be the consequence; and among these there were a few stray little creatures barely able to toddle, who had probably been forgotten or forsaken by their mothers in the panic, yet were of sufficient age to be aware, in their own feeble way, that danger of some sort was behind them, and that safety lay before. By degrees all--young and old, strong and feeble--gained the shelter of the bush, and Kambira was left with a handful of resolute warriors to check the invaders and defend his home. Well was it at that time for Kambira and his men that the approaching band was _not_ Marizano and his robbers. When the head of the supposed enemy's column appeared on the brow of the adjacent hill, the Manganja chief fitted an arrow to his bow, and, retiring behind a hut, as also did his followers, resolved that Marizano should forfeit his life even though his own should be the penalty. Very bitter were his thoughts, for his tribe had suffered from that villain at a former period, and he longed to rid the land of him. As he thought thus he looked at his followers with an expression of doubt for he knew too well that the Manganja were not a warlike tribe, and feared that the few who remained with him might forsake him in the hour of need. Indeed, much of his own well-known courage was to be attributed to the fact, that his mother had belonged to a family more or less nearly connected with the Ajawa, who are very warlike--too much so, in truth, for it is they who, to a large extent are made use of by the slave-dealers to carry on war with the neighbouring tribes. Kambira's men, however, looked resolute, though very grave. While he was thus meditating vengeance, he observed that one of the approaching band advanced alone without arms, and making signs of peace. This surprised him a little, but dreading treachery, he kept under the shelter of a hut until the stranger was close to the village; then, observing that the party on the hill had laid down their arms and seated themselves on the grass, he advanced, still, however, retaining his weapons. The stranger was a little man, and appeared timid, but seeing that the chief evidently meant no mischief, and knowing that the guns of his friends had him within range, he drew near. "Where come you from?" demanded Kambira. To this Antonio--for it was he--replied that his party came from the coast; that they wanted to pass through the land to see it, and to find out what it produced and what its people had to sell; that it was led by two Englishmen, who belonged to a nation that detested slavery--the same nation that sent out Dr Livingstone, who, as everybody knew, had passed through that land some years before. They were also, he said, countrymen of the men of God who had come out to teach the Manganja the Truth, who had helped them in their troubles, delivered them from the slave-traders, and some of whom had died in their land. He added that there were Manganja men and women in their company. The "men of God" to whom Antonio referred, and to whom he had been expressly told by Harold Seadrift to refer, were those devoted missionaries mentioned in a previous chapter, who, under the leadership of the amiable and true-hearted Bishop Mackenzie, established a mission among these very Manganja hills in the year 1861. By a rare combination of Christian love and manly courage under very peculiar circumstances, they acquired extraordinary power and influence over the natives in the space of a few months, and laid the foundation of what might have been-- perhaps may yet be--true Christianity in Central Africa. But the country was unhappily involved at the time in one of the wars created by the Portuguese and Arab slave-traders. The region was almost depopulated by man-stealers, and by the famine that resulted from the culture of the land having been neglected during the panic. The good bishop and several of his devoted band sank under the combined effects of climate and anxiety, and died there, while the enfeebled remnant were compelled, sorrowfully, to quit the field, to the deep regret of the surviving Manganja. [_The Story of the Universities' Mission to Central Africa_, by the Reverend Henry Rowley.--We can heartily recommend this to the young--ay, and to the old--as being, next to the Adventures of Williams in the South Seas, one of the most interesting records of missionary enterprise that we ever read.] When, therefore, Antonio mentioned Bishop Mackenzie and Dr Livingstone, a gleam of intelligent interest lit up Kambira's swarthy countenance, and he was about to speak, but suddenly checked himself, and a stern frown chased the gleam away. "The Manganja," he said, after a few moments' silence, during which poor Antonio eyed him with some distrust, "know well that these men of God were not of the same country as the Arab and the Portuguese; that they hated slavery and loved the Manganja, and that the graves of some of them are with us now; but we know also that some white men are great liars. How am I to make sure that your leaders are English? Why did you not bring down the Manganja men and women you say are with you?" "The women were footsore, and fell behind with their men," answered Antonio, "and we thought it best not to wait for them." "Go," rejoined Kambira, waving his hand; "if you be true men let the Englishmen come to me, and also the Manganja, _without guns_, then I will believe you.--Go." The peremptory manner in which this was said left no room for reply. Antonio therefore returned to his friends, and the chief to his cover. On consultation and consideration it was agreed that Kambira's advice should be acted on, "For," said Disco, removing the pipe with which he had been solacing himself during Antonio's absence, "we can plant our fellers on the knoll here with a blunderbuss each, and arrange a signal so that, if there should be anything like foul play, we'd have nothin' to do but hold aloft a kercher or suthin o' that sort, an' they'd pour a broadside into 'em afore they could wink--d'ee see?" "Not quite clearly," replied Harold, smiling, "because some of our fellows can't take an aim at all, much less a good one, so they'd be as likely to shoot us as them." Disco pondered this a little, and shook his head, then shook the ashes out of his pipe, and said that on the whole he was willing to risk it-- that they "could not expect to travel through Afriky without risking summat." As Chimbolo with his wife and the rest of the party came up at that moment the case was put before him. He at once advised compliance with Kambira's request saying that the presence of himself and his friends would be quite sufficient to put the chief's mind at rest. In a few minutes the plan was carried out and Kambira satisfied of the good faith of his visitors. Nevertheless he did not at once throw open his arms to them. He stood upon his dignity; asked them a good many questions, and answered a good many more, addressing himself always to Antonio as the spokesman, it being a point of etiquette not to address the principal of the party. Then, presents were exchanged, in the management of which a considerable time was spent. One of the warriors having in the meantime been despatched to recall the fugitives, these began to pour out of the woods, the frail old people and forsaken toddlers being the last to return, as they had been the last to fly. After this, fires were kindled, fowls were chased, caught, slain, plucked, roasted, and boiled; hippopotamus-flesh was produced, the strangers were invited to make themselves at home, which they very soon did. Beer and bang were introduced; the celebrated fiddler was reinstated, the dance, which had been so long delayed, was at last fairly begun, and, as if to make the picture perfect and felicity complete, the moon came out from behind a thick cloud, and clothed the valley with a flood of silver light. CHAPTER ELEVEN. REVEALS DISCO'S OPINIONS ABOUT SAVAGES, AND THE SAVAGES' OPINIONS OF DISCO, AND OTHER WEIGHTY MATTERS. As two or three of Harold's people were not very well just at that time, he resolved to remain at Kambira's village for a few days to give them rest, and afterwards to push on to the country of his friend Chimbolo. This arrangement he came to the more readily that he was short of provisions, and Kambira told him that a particular part of the country near the shores of a lake not far distant abounded with game of all sorts. To Disco Lillihammer he explained his plans next day, while that worthy, seated under the shade of a banyan-tree, was busily engaged with what he styled his "mornin' dooties"--namely, the filling and smoking of his cutty-pipe. "You see, Disco," he said, "it won't do to knock up the men with continuous travel, therefore I shall give them a spell of rest here. Kambira tells me that there is plenty of game, large and small, to be had not far off, so that we shall be able to replenish our stock of meat and perchance give the niggers a feast such as they have not been accustomed to of late, for it is not too much to expect that our rifles will do more execution, at all events among lions and elephants, than native spears. Besides, I wish to see something of the people, who, being what we may call pure out-and-out savages--" "Savages!" interrupted Disco, removing his pipe, and pointing with the stem of it to the village on an eminence at the outskirts of which they were seated; "d'ee call them folk savages?" Harold looked at the scene before him, and paused for a few moments; and well he might, for not fifty yards off the blacksmith was plying his work energetically, while a lad sat literally _between_ a pair of native bellows, one of which he blew with his left hand, the other with his right and, beyond these, groups of men and women wrought at their primitive looms or tilled their vegetable gardens and patches of land. "Savages!" repeated Disco, still pointing to the village with the stem of his pipe, and gazing earnestly at his companion, "humph!" It is probable that Disco might have said more, but he was an accurate judge of the precise moment when a pipe is about to go out, and delay will prove fatal. He therefore applied himself diligently to suck and cherish the dying spark. Having revived its powers to such an extent that clouds enveloped his visage, and his nose, being red, loomed luridly through them, he removed the pipe, and again said, "Humph! They ain't a bit more savages, sir, than you or me is." "Perhaps not," replied Harold. "To say truth, it would be difficult to point out any peculiarity that justifies the name, except the fact that they wear very little clothing, and neither go to school nor church." "They wears no clothin'," rejoined Disco, "'cause they don't need for to do so; an' they don't go to church or school, 'cause they hain't got none to go to--that same bein' not the fault o' the niggers, but o' them as knows better." "There's truth in what you say, Disco," returned Harold, with a smile, "but come, you must admit that there is something savage in the custom they have of wearing these hideous lip-rings." The custom to which he referred is one which prevails among several of the tribes of Africa, and is indeed so utterly hideous and outrageous that we should be justified in refusing to believe it, were we not assured of the fact by Dr Livingstone and other missionaries and travellers of unquestionable integrity. The ring is worn in the upper lip, not hanging from it but fitted into a hole in it in such a manner as to thrust the lip straight and far out from the face. As the ring is about the size of an ordinary napkin-ring, it may be easily believed, that time is required for the formation of the deformity. At an early age the middle of the upper lip of a girl is pierced close to the nose, and a small pin introduced to prevent the hole closing up. After it is healed the pin is taken out and a larger one forced into its place, and so for weeks, months, and years the process of increasing the size of the lip goes on, until a ring of two inches in diameter can be introduced. Nearly all the women in these parts use this ring, or, as it is called, pelele. Some make them of bamboo, others of ivory or tin. When a wearer of the pelele smiles, the action of the cheek muscles draws the lip tight which has the effect of raising the ring towards the eyebrows, so that the nose is seen in the middle of it, and the teeth are exposed, a revelation which shows that the latter have been chipped to sharp points so as to resemble the teeth of a cat or crocodile. "No doubt," said Disco, in reply to Harold's remark, "the lip-rings are uncommon ugly, but the principle o' the thing, sir, that's w'ere it is, the principle ain't no wuss than ear-rings. The savages, as we calls 'em, bores holes in their lips an' sticks rings into 'em. The civilised folk, as we calls ourselves, bores holes in their ears an' sticks rings into 'em. W'ere's the difference? that's wot _I_ want to know." "There's not much difference in principle," said Harold, laughing, "but there is a great difference in appearance. Ear-rings hang gracefully; lip-rings stick out horribly." "H'm! it appears to me that that's a matter o' taste, now. Howsoever, I do admit that lip-rings is wuss than ear-rings; moreover it must make kissin' somewhat difficult, not to say onpleasant, but, as I said before, so I says again, It's all in the principle w'ere it lies. W'y, look here, sir,--savages, as we call 'em, wear brass rings round their necks, our women wear gold and brass chains. The savages wear anklets, we wear bracelets. They have no end o' rings on their toes, we have 'em on our fingers. Some savages shave their heads, some of us shaves our faces. Their women are raither given to clothin' which is too short and too narrer, ours come out in toggery far too wide, and so long sometimes, that a feller daren't come within a fathom of 'em astarn without runnin' the risk o' trampin' on, an' carrying away some o' the canvas. The savage women frizzes out their hair into most fantastical shapes, till the very monkeys has to hold their sides sittin' in the trees larfin' at 'em--and wot do _we_ do in regard to that? W'y, some of _our_ women puts on a mixture o' hairy pads, an' combs, an' pins, an' ribbons, an' flowers, in a bundle about twice the size o' their heads, all jumbled together in such a way as to defy description; an' if the monkeys was to see _them_, they'd go off into such fits that they'd bu'st altogether an' the race would become extinct in Afriky. No, sir; it's my opinion that there ain't no such thing as savages--or, if you choose to put it the tother way, we're all savages together." Disco uttered the last part of his speech with intense energy, winding it up with the usual slap on the thigh, delivered with unusual fervour, and then, becoming aware that the vital spark of the cutty had all but fled, he applied himself to its resuscitation, in which occupation he found relief to his feelings, and himself formed a brilliant illustration of his remarks on savage customs. Harold admitted that there was much truth in what he said, but rather inclined to the opinion that of the two sets of savages the uncivilised were, if anything, the wildest. Disco however, contrary to his usual habits, had nailed his colours to the mast on that point and could not haul them down. Meanwhile Harold's opinion was to some extent justified by the appearance of a young man, who, issuing from the jungle close at hand, advanced towards them. Most of the men at the village displayed a good deal of pride, if not taste, in the arrangement of their hair. Some wore it long and twisted into a coil which hung down their backs; others trained and stiffened it in such a way that it took the form of buffalo horns, while some allowed it to hang over the shoulders in large masses, and many shaved it either entirely, or partially in definite patterns. But the young dandy who now approached outdid all others, for he had twisted his hair into innumerable little tails, which, being stiffened by fillets of the inner bark of a tree, stuck straight out and radiated from the head in all directions. His costume otherwise was simple enough, consisting merely of a small kilt of white calico. He was accompanied by Antonio. "We've be come from Kambira," said the interpreter, "to tell you for come to feast." "All right," said Disco, rising; "always ready for wittles if you only gives us an hour or two between times.--I say, Tony," (he had by that time reduced the interpreter's name to this extent), "ask this feller what he means by makin' sitch a guy of hisself." "Hims say it look well," said Antonio, with a broad grin. "Looks well--eh? and ask him why the women wear that abominable pelele." When this question was put to the black dandy, he looked at Disco evidently in surprise at his stupidity. "Because it is the fashion," he said. "They wear it for beauty, to be sure! Men have beards and whiskers; women have none, and what kind of creature would woman be without whiskers, and without a pelele? She would have a mouth like a man, and no beard!" The bare idea of such a state of things tickled the dandy so much that he went into roars of laughter, insomuch that all the radiating tails of his head quivered again. The effect of laughter and tails together was irresistible. Harold, Disco, and Antonio laughed in sympathy, till the tears ran down their cheeks, and then returned to the village where Kambira and his chief men awaited them. While enjoying the feast prepared for them, Harold communicated his intentions and desires to the chief, who was delighted at the prospect of having such powerful allies on a hunting expedition. The playful Obo meanwhile was clambering over his father's person like a black monkey. He appeared to be particularly fond of his father, and as love begets love, it is not surprising that Kambira was excessively fond of Obo. But Obo, becoming obstreperous, received an amicable punch from his father, which sent him headlong into a basket of boiled hippopotamus. He gave a wild howl of alarm as Disco snatched him out of the dish, dripping with fat, and set him on his knee. "There, there, don't blubber," said the seaman, tenderly wiping off the fat while the natives, including Kambira, exploded with laughter. "You ain't burnt, are you?" As Obo could not reply, Disco put his finger into the gravy from which the urchin had been rescued, and satisfied himself that it was not hot enough to have done the child injury. This was also rendered apparent by his suddenly ceasing to cry, struggling off Disco's knee, and renewing his assaults on his easy-going father. Accepting an egg which was offered him by Yohama, Harold broke it, and entered into conversation with Kambira through the medium of Antonio. "Is your boy's mother a--Hollo! there's a chick in this egg," he exclaimed, throwing the offensive morsel into the fire. Jumbo, who sat near the place where it fell, snatched it up, grinned, and putting it into his cavernous mouth, swallowed it. "Dem's betterer wid chickies," he said, resuming his gravity and his knife and fingers,--forks being held by him in light esteem. "Ask him, Antonio, if Obo's mother is alive," said Harold, trying another egg, which proved to be in better condition. The interpreter, instead of putting the question without comment, as was his wont, shook his head, looked mysterious, and whispered--"No better ask dat. Hims lost him's wife. The slave-hunters cotch her some time ago, and carry her off when hims away hunting. Hims awful mad, worser dan mad elerphint when hims speak to 'bout her." Harold of course dropped the subject at once, after remarking that he supposed Yohama was the child's grandmother. "Yis," said Antonio; "she be Kambira's moder, an' Obo's gran'moder--bof at once." This fact was, we may almost say, self-evident for Obo's attentions and favours were distributed exclusively between Yohama and Kambira, though the latter had unquestionably the larger share. During the course of the feast, beer was served round by the little man who had performed so deftly on the violin the previous evening. "Drink," said Kambira hospitably; "I am glad to see my white brothers here; drink, it will warm your hearts." "Ay, an' it won't make us drunk," said Disco, destroying Jumbo's peace of mind by winking and making a face at him as he raised the calabash to his lips. "Here's long life to you, Kambira, an' death to slavery." There can be no doubt that the chief and his retainers would have heartily applauded that sentiment if they had understood it, but at the moment Antonio was too deeply engaged with another calabash to take the trouble to translate it. The beer, which was pink, and as thick as gruel, was indeed too weak to produce intoxication unless taken in very large quantities; nevertheless many of the men were so fond of it that they sometimes succeeded in taking enough to bring them to the condition which we style "fuddled." But at that time the particular brew was nearly exhausted, so that temperance was happily the order of the day. Having no hops in those regions, they are unable to prevent fermentation, and are therefore obliged to drink up a whole brewing as quickly as possible after it is made. "Man, why don't ye wash yer face?" said Disco to the little fiddler as he replenished his calabash; "it's awful dirty." Jumbo laughed, of course, and the small musician, not understanding what was said, followed suit out of sympathy. "Wash him's face!" cried Antonio, laughing, "him would as soon cut off him's head. Manganja nevair wash. Ah me! You laugh if you hear de womans ask me yesterday--`Why you wash?' dey say, `our men nevair do.' Ho! ho! dey looks like it too." "I'm sure that cannot be said of Kambira or any of his chief men," said Harold. "Perhaps not," retorted Antonio, "but some of 'um nevair wash. Once 'pon a time one man of dis tribe foller a party me was with. Not go way for all we tell 'um. We said we shoot 'um. No matter, hims foller still. At last we say, `You scoun'rel, we _wash_ you!' Ho! how hims run! Jist like zebra wid lion at 'um's tail. Nevair see 'um after dat--nevair more!" "Wot a most monstrous ugly feller that is sittin' opposite Kambira, on the other side o' the fire--the feller with the half-shaved head," said Disco in an undertone to Harold during a temporary pause in eating. "A well-made man, however," replied Harold.--"I say, Disco," he added, with a peculiar smile, "you think yourself rather a good-looking fellow, don't you, now?" The worthy seaman, who was indeed an exceptionally good-looking tar, modestly replied--"Well now, as you have put it so plump I don't mind if I do confess that I've had some wild suspicions o' that sort now and then." "Then you may dismiss your suspicions now, for I can assure you that you are regarded in this land as a very monster of ugliness," said Harold, laughing. "In the estimation of niggers your garments are hideous; your legs they think elephantine, your red beard frightful, and your blue eyes savage--_savage_! think of that." "Well, well," retorted Disco, "your own eyes are as blue as mine, an' I don't suppose the niggers think more of a yaller beard than a red one." "Too true, Disco; we are both ill-favoured fellows here, whatever we may be elsewhere; however, as we don't intend to take Manganja wives it won't matter much. But what think you of our plan, now that Kambira is ready to fall in with it?" "It seems a good one. When do we start?" "To-morrow," said Harold. "Wery good," replied Disco, "I'm agreeable." The morrow came, and with the early light all the people turned out to witness the departure of the hunters. Scouts had been previously sent out in all directions to make sure that no enemies or slave-traders were at that time in their immediate neighbourhood, and a strong force of the best warriors was left to guard the village. Of Harold's band, two half-castes, Jose and Oliveira, volunteered to stay in camp with the guard, and two, Songolo and Mabruki, the freemen of Quillimane, remained in the village to recruit their health, which had failed. Chimbolo likewise remained, the wounds on his back not having healed sufficiently to admit of the hard labour of hunting. All the rest accompanied the hunters, and of these the three Makololo men, Jumbo, Zombo, and Masiko, were incomparably the best and bravest. Of course the volatile Antonio also went, being indispensable. On setting out--each man with his sleeping-mat on his back and his little wooden pillow hung at his neck,--there was a great deal of shouting and ho-ho-ing and well-wishing on the part of those who remained behind, but above all the noise there arose a shrill cry of intense and agonising despair. This proceeded from the small windpipe of little Obo, who had not until the last moment made the appalling discovery that Kambira was going away without him! There was something very touching in the cry of the urchin, and something which brought vividly to the minds of the Englishmen the infantine community of their own land. There was the same sudden gaze of horror on realising the true position of affairs,--the same sharp shriek and frantic struggle to escape from the grasp of those who held him back from following his father,--the same loud cry of agony on finding that his efforts were vain, and then, the wide-open mouth, the close-shut eyes, and the awful, prolonged silence--suggestive of fits-- that betokens the concentration of mind, heart, and lungs into that tremendous roar of unutterable significance which appears to be the safety-valve of the human family, black and white, at that tender period of life. Poor Obo! his sobs continued to burst out with steam-engine power, and his eyes to pour cataracts of tears into Yohama's sympathetic bosom, long after the hunting party had left the hills behind them, and advanced into the almost impenetrable jungles of the low grounds. CHAPTER TWELVE. DESCRIBES A HUNTING EXPEDITION WHICH WAS BOTH EXCITING AND SUCCESSFUL. Down by the reedy margin of a pretty large lake--where wild-fowl innumerable made the air vocal with their cries by day, and frogs, in numbers inconceivable, chirped and croaked a lullaby to men who slept, and a symphony to beasts that howled and growled and prowled at night in bush and brake--Kambira pitched his camp. He did not indeed, select the moist level of the fever-breeding marshes, but he chose for his temporary habitation the dry summit of a wooded hill which overlooked the lake. Here the natives of the neighbourhood said that elephants had been lately seen, and buffaloes, zebras, etcetera, were at all times numerous. After two long days' march they had reached the spot, and encamped late in the evening. Next morning early the business of the expedition began. Various parties of natives, armed with bows and arrows and spears, were sent out in different directions, but the principal band was composed of Kambira and his chief men, with Harold and his party. They did not go far before game was found. Guinea-fowl were numerous, and those who were aimed with bows soon procured a goodly supply of these, but our travellers did not waste their energies or powder on such small game. Besides these, monkeys peeped inquisitively at the hunters from among the trees, and myriads of turtle-doves were seen in the covers. As they advanced, wild pigs, elands, waterbucks, koodoos, and other creatures, were seen in herds, and the natives dropped off, or turned aside in pursuit of these, so that ere long the band remaining with Kambira was reduced to about forty men. Coming to a small river in which were a number of deep pools and shallows, they saw several hippopotami lying asleep, their bodies nearly all out of the water, appearing like masses of black rock in the stream. But at the same place they discovered fresh traces of elephants and buffaloes, therefore the hippopotami were left unmolested, save that Harold sent a bullet amongst them, partly to let the natives hear the report of his gun, and partly to see how the animals would take it. They all started to their feet at once, and stared around them with looks of stolid surprise that were almost equal to the looks of the natives, to whom fire-arms were little known, except by report. Another shot sent the whole herd with a heavy plunge into deep water. "It's a queer country," observed Disco when they had resumed their march. "Just look at them there lizards with red and blue tails running about among the rocks an' eatin' up the white ants like one o'clock." Disco might have said like twelve o'clock, if numbers would have added to the force of his remark, for the little creatures referred to were miraculously active in pursuit of their food. "But I s'pose," continued Disco, "the niggers would think our country a queerer place than this." "Undoubtedly they would," replied Harold; "just fancy what would be the feelings of Kambira if he were suddenly transported into the heart of London." "Hallo!" exclaimed Disco, stopping suddenly and pointing to one of the men in advance, who had crouched and made signals to his friends to halt, "breakers ahead--eh?" "More likely buffaloes," whispered Harold, as he cocked his rifle and advanced quickly with Kambira, who carried a short spear or javelin. On reaching an opening in the bushes, a small herd of zebras was observed not much more than a hundred yards in advance. "Will the white man's gun kill so far?" asked the chief, turning to Antonio. The interpreter made no reply, but pointed to Harold, who was in the act of taking aim. The loud report was followed by the fall of the nearest zebra. Disco also fired and wounded another, which bounded away in wild alarm with its fellows. The natives yelled with delight, and Disco cheered in sympathy. "You've hit him," said Harold, as he reloaded. "Ay, but I han't disabled him. Better luck next time. I think I took him somewhere on the port bow." "If by that you mean the left shoulder," returned Harold, with a laugh, "it's likely he won't run far. What does Kambira think of the white man's gun?" he added, turning round. The tall chief nodded approvingly, and said, with a grave countenance--"Good, good; it is good--better than this," shaking his short spear. At that moment a small antelope, which had been startled and put to flight by some of the other bands of hunters, came crashing wildly towards them, ignorant of the enemy in its front until within about thirty yards. It turned at a sharp angle and plunged into the jungle, but the spear which Kambira had shaken whizzed though the air and pierced its heart before it had time to disappear. "A splendid heave!" cried Disco, with enthusiasm; "why, man alive, you'd make yer fortin' as a harpooner if ye was to go to the whale-fishin'.-- Hallo! there's somethin' else; w'y, the place is swarmin'. It's for all the world like a zoological ga'rdings let loose." As he spoke, the hoofs of a herd of ponderous animals were heard, but the rank grass and underwood concealed them entirely from view. The whole party rushed to the nearest opening, and were just in time to see the tail of an irate buffalo make a magnificent flourish in the air as its owner plunged into cover. There was no further attempt at conversation after this. The near presence of large game was too exciting, so that merely a word of advice, direction, or inquiry, passed as the party advanced rapidly--one or two of the most active going before as pioneers. While Disco was striding along with flashing eyes, rifle ready, and head turning from side to side in momentary expectation of something bounding suddenly out of somewhere, he chanced to cast his eyes upwards, and, to his horror, beheld two huge serpents coiled together among the branches of a tree close to his head. Uttering a yell of alarm--for he entertained an almost superstitious dread of serpents--he fired blindly upwards, and dashed to one side so violently that he tumbled himself and Harold into a bush of wait-a-bit thorns, out of which the laughing natives found it difficult to extract them. "What _is_ the matter, man?" said Harold somewhat testily. "Have a care! look! Avast! A bite'll be death, an' no mistake!" cried Disco, pointing to the reptiles. Harold fired at once and brought them both down, and the natives, attacking them with sticks, soon killed them. "No fear," said Antonio, with a chuckle. "Dem not harm nobody, though ums ugly an' big enough." This was true. They were a couple of pythons, and the larger of the two, a female, was ten feet long; but the python is a harmless creature. While they were talking, smoke was observed to rise from an isolated clump of long grass and bushes not far from the banks of the river, much to the annoyance of Kambira, who feared that the fire might spread and scare away the game. It was confined, however, to the place where it began, but it had the effect of driving out a solitary buffalo that had taken refuge in the cover. Jumbo chanced to be most directly in front of the infuriated animal when it burst out, and to him exclusively it directed its attentions. Never since Jumbo was the size of Obo had that laughter-loving savage used his lithe legs with greater energy than on this occasion. An ostrich might have envied him as he rushed towards the river, into which he sprang headlong when the buffalo was barely six feet behind him. Of course Harold fired, as well as Disco, and both shots told, as also a spear from Kambira, nevertheless the animal turned abruptly on seeing Jumbo disappear, and charged furiously up the bank, scattering its enemies right and left. Harold fired again at little more than fifty yards off, and heard the bullet thud as it went in just behind the shoulder, yet strange to say, it seemed to have no other effect than to rouse the brute to greater wrath, and two more bullets failed to bring him down. This toughness of the buffalo is by no means uncommon, but different animals vary much in their tenacity of life. Some fall at once to the first well-directed shot; others die hard. The animal the hunters were now in pursuit of, or rather which was in pursuit of the hunters, seemed to be of the latter class. Harold fired another shot from behind a tree, having loaded with a shell-bullet, which exploded on hitting the creature's ribs. It fell, much to the satisfaction of Disco, of whom it happened to be in pursuit at the time. The seaman at once stopped and began to reload, and the natives came running forward, when Antonio, who had climbed a tree to be out of harm's way, slipped down and ran with great bravery up to the prostrate animal. Just as he reached it the buffalo sprang up with the activity of a cat, and charged him. Antonio turned and ran with such rapidity that his little legs became almost invisible, like those of a sparrow in a hurry. He gained a tree, and had just time to climb into it when the buffalo struck it like a battering-ram, hard enough almost to have split both head and tree. It paused a few seconds, drew back several paces, glared savagely at Antonio, and then charged again and again, as if resolved either to shake him out of the tree, or give itself a splitting headache, but another shell from Harold, who could hardly take aim for laughing, stretched the huge animal dead upon the ground. Altogether, it took two shells and five large solid rifle-balls to finish him. "That wos a pretty good spurt," said Disco, panting, as he joined Harold beside the fallen beast. "It's well-known that a starn chase is a long 'un, but this would have been an exception to the rule if you hadn't shot him, sir. He pretty nigh made short work o' _me_. He was a'most aboard of me w'en you fired." "True," said Harold; "and had that tree not grown where it stands, and grown tough, too, I suspect he would have made short work of Antonio too." "Bah!" said the interpreter, with affected carelessness, "him was but a slow brute, after all." Disco looked at Jumbo, who was none the worse of his ducking, and shut his right eye smartly. Jumbo opened his cavernous mouth, and exploded so violently that his double row of brilliant teeth must have been blown out and scattered on the ground, had they not been miraculously strong. "Come, now," said Kambira, who had just given orders to some of his followers to remain behind and look after the carcase, "we go to find elephants." "Have we much chance of findin' them?" inquired Disco. Kambira thought they had, because fresh traces had been recently seen in the neighbourhood, whereupon Disco said that he would prefer to go after lions, but Kambira assured him that these animals were not so easy to find, and much more dangerous when attacked. Admitting the force of this, though still asserting his preference of lions to elephants, the bloodthirsty son of Neptune shouldered his rifle and followed his leader. While the main party of hunters were thus successfully pushing along, the other bands were not idle, though, possessing no fire-arms, they were less noisy. In fact their proceedings were altogether of the cat-catty. One fellow, as black as a coal, as lithe as an eel, and as long--according to Disco's standard--as a fathom of pump-water, having come upon a herd of buffalo unseen by them, and being armed with a small bow and quiver of arrows, suddenly dropped on all-fours and began to glide through the long grass. Now there is a particular little bird in those regions which calls for special notice here. It is a very singular bird, inasmuch as it has constituted itself the guardian of the buffalo. It frequently sits upon that animal's back, and, whenever it sees the approach of man, or any other danger, it flaps its wings and screams to such an extent, that the buffalo rushes off without waiting to inquire or see what is the matter; and the small guardian seems to think itself sufficiently rewarded with the pickings it finds on the back of its fat friend. So vigilant is this little creature, that it actually renders the approach of the hunter a matter of great difficulty in circumstances when, but for it, he might approach with ease. [See Livingstone's _Zambesi and its Tributaries_, page 200.] Our wary native was, however, aware of this little fellow's propensities, and took precautions to outwit the bird rather than the beast. It may perhaps cause some surprise to be told that a small bow and arrows were a sufficiently powerful species of artillery to bring to bear against such noble game, but the surprise will vanish when we state that the arrows were poisoned. Having crawled to within range, the fathom of black pump-water suddenly arose and let fly an arrow. The missile went deep into the side of a majestic bull. The little bird fluttered and screamed too late. The bull at once dashed away at full speed, starting off the whole herd in alarm. The black fathom followed at the top of his speed, and was joined by a number of other black fathoms, who were quite aware of what had been done. The buffaloes were soon out of sight, but the fathoms followed the trail with the unerring pertinacity of fate. After a long run they came up with the stricken bull, which had fallen behind its fellows, and waited patiently until the poison took full effect. In a short time the animal fell, and the successful hunters fell to work upon his carcase with their knives. Leaving them thus employed, we will return to Kambira and his friends. They had not gone far when a fine water-buck was observed feeding beside a creek. Kambira laid his hand on Harold's shoulder and pointed to it with a smile, which might have been interpreted, "Now, then, there's a chance for you!" Harold fired, and the water-buck dropped. "Good," said Kambira. "Hallo!" exclaimed Disco. And well he might, for at that moment an enormous crocodile, which had evidently been watching the water-buck, seized and dragged it into the water. It was not deep, however, and the wounded animal made a desperate plunge, hauled the crocodile several yards, and tore itself out of its hideous jaws. It then jumped into the stream and was swimming across when another crocodile made a dash at it, but Harold sent a ball into its ugly head, which appeared to make it change its mind. It disappeared, and the water-buck turning, made for the bank from which it had started. Just as it reached it the vital spark fled-- the fine head dropped and the body turned over. It will be seen from what has been told, that on this occasion the rifles did most of the work. The natives who followed Harold had nothing to do but look on exultingly, glare, dance, show their teeth and gums, and secure the game. We cannot perhaps, expect the good-natured reader to follow us through all the details of that day's work; but it would be unpardonable were we to close the chapter without referring to the principal event of the day, which occurred a couple of hours after the shooting of the water-buck. It happened thus:--When the hunters began to grow tired, and the prospect of falling in with large game became less hopeful, the chief determined to return to camp; but Disco felt so disappointed at not having seen an elephant or a lion, that he expressed a wish to continue the chase with a small select party. Harold laughed at the idea of the seaman leading such a party, but offered no objection, although he did not care to accompany his friend, having, as he said, had enough of it, and being desirous of having a long chat with the chief in camp. "You see, sir," said Disco, patting the stock of his rifle with his right hand, "we chance to have got, so to speak, into the heart of a shoal o' big fish, an' there's no sayin' how soon they may take it into their heads to up anchor, and make sail for other grounds. Therefore, says I, blaze away at 'em while you've got the chance." "But you may have as good a chance to-morrow, or next day," suggested Harold. "We ain't sure o' that sir. To-morrow, they say, never comes," returned Disco. "It's my ambition to let fly a broadside at a lion or a elephant so I means for to go on; an' wot I says is, Who wolunteers to sail in company?" When the party were given to understand what "wolunteers" meant, the three Makololo joined the tar with alacrity, also the Somali negroes Nakoda and Conda, and about a dozen of the natives, armed with spears. Disco's own men were armed with their guns. Antonio, being necessary to Harold, returned to camp; but this was a matter of little importance, as Jumbo and his fellow-countrymen knew enough of English to act as interpreters. Every one who has had a few years' experience of life knows the truth of the proverb which asserts that "fortune favours the brave." Its truth was exemplified on the present occasion not more than an hour after the little band of heroes had set out. Disco led the way, as a matter of course, holding, as he said, that no nigger could possibly be equal to a white sailor in the matter of steering, whether ashore or afloat. He steered by the sun, and directed his course to nowhere in particular, being influenced chiefly by the form of the ground and the appearance of the jungle. Jumbo grinned a good deal at the sententious gravity with which the leader delivered his orders, and the self-important strides with which he passed over the land. He would have grinned still more, perhaps have laughed outright if he had understood that the occasional off-hand kicks which Disco bestowed on a thick bush here and there, were given in the hope that a lion might thereby be set up, as one dislodges a rabbit or a hare! At last on reaching the crest of a mound which was comparatively free of underwood, Disco beheld a sight which caused him to drop on his hands and knees as though he had been shot. Not more than fifty yards off a herd of cow elephants and their calves were seen feeding quietly on tall heavy-seeded grass in the plain below. "Avast!" said Disco, in a hoarse whisper, at the same time crouching behind a bush, and making frantic signals to the rest of the party to advance with extreme caution. "Wat 'um see?" inquired Jumbo in a low whisper, creeping up to his excited leader. There was no need for a reply. A glance over the top of the bush sufficed. "Be quiet as mice now, lads," said Disco, when all the members of his party had crept around him, and become aware of the presence of elephants. "Get your guns laid, and if any one of you dares to pull a trigger till I give the word, I'll keel-haul him." This, or something distantly resembling it, having been explained to the men who carried guns, they lay down and took aim. The noise made by the hunters attracted the attention of the nearest elephant, and, with true motherly instinct she placed her young one between her fore-legs for protection. "We fire right in de middel ob de lot?" inquired Zombo hastily. "Not at all," whispered Disco; "let every man point at the nearest one-- the one that lays broadside on to us, wi' the little un under her bows. Now--ready--present--fire!" Bang went the seven guns with a degree of precision that might have put to shame any corps of volunteer riflemen in England; up went the trunks and tails of the elephants, little and big, and away rushed the whole herd in dire alarm. But the wounded animal suddenly stumbled and fell on its knees, then leaped up and ran on heavily. Meanwhile Disco, who had discharged only one barrel of his heavy gun, leaped over the bushes, and rushed forward at a pace which for a few seconds enabled him to keep ahead even of the fleet natives. The elephants, however, easily left them all behind, and it appeared as if the affair were about to end in disappointment, when the wounded beast again stumbled. "Hold on! halt!" cried Disco in a voice of thunder. He kneeled at the same time, took aim, and fired. Whether it was this last shot or the effects of previous loss of blood, we cannot tell; but after receiving it, the ponderous animal rolled over on its side, and died. To say that the natives became temporarily insane would give but a feeble idea of what now took place, because few readers are likely to be aware of the amazing power of the negro to give expression to the vagaries of insanity. We shall therefore content ourselves by saying that they cheered, laughed, howled, shouted, danced, and yelled--and leave the rest to imagination. "Now, then, boys, avast howlin'. Clap a stopper on your bellows, will 'ee?" said Disco, in a boatswain's roar, that effectually quelled the tumult. "Cut off to camp, every mother's son of you, an bring up Kambira an' all the boys, with as many knives and dishes as ye can muster, for this mountain of flesh ain't to be cut up in a hurry, an' the sun won't be long o' goin' to bed. Away with 'ee! Let's see how you can wag yer black legs, an' I'll keep watch over the carcase. If anything comes to have a look at it--a lion, for instance,--so much the worse for the lion!" It was in vain that Jumbo explained there was no necessity for sending more than one of the party to the camp. Disco was a strict disciplinarian, and, having given the order, enforced it in a manner which admitted of no disobedience. They therefore departed, leaving the seaman seated on the elephant, smoking his pipe with his gun beside him. But Jumbo did not go far. He soon turned aside from his companions, and returned to the scene of the hunt, resolved if possible to give his leader a fright. Gaining the skirts of the jungle which surrounded the open space where Disco kept watch, he crept cautiously as near to him as possible. Disco still sat smoking and eyeing the elephant with a smile of satisfaction. Presently he rose,--retreated a few yards from the carcase, and stood admiring it with his head on one side, as if it were a picture and he a connoisseur. He had in this act approached somewhat nearer to Jumbo, who saluted him with a most awful growl. No monkey in Africa could have dropped its pipe, had it been a smoker, or sprung to seize its gun, had it been a sportsman, with greater agility than did Disco Lillihammer on that trying occasion! Getting on the other side of the dead elephant he faced round, cocked both barrels, and prepared to receive whatever might come. Jumbo, lying very low behind a bank of earth for safety, gave another low growl. Disco started and half raised his piece. Jumbo then threw a large stone towards a neighbouring bush, which it struck and caused to rustle. This was enough for Disco, who took a quick aim, and let fly the contents of both barrels into the bush. Jumbo noiselessly but swiftly crept back into the woods, chuckling as he went, leaving Disco to reload in wild haste. But his haste was uncalled for. There was no more growling; no more rustling in the bushes. "I've done for him," muttered Disco, after waiting patiently at the "ready" for some time. "But it won't do for me to ventur' up to it all by myself. Pr'aps it's a lion, an' they do say that it's chancy work to go near a wounded lion. To be sure the growl wasn't so loud as I'd have expected o' the king o' the forest, but then they don't always growl loud. Anyhow I'll keep a bright look-out an' wait till the niggers return." Philosophising thus, the bold seaman mounted guard over the elephant. Meanwhile Jumbo, having got out of earshot of his friend, indulged in a loud laugh and made after his friends, but, observing the visage of a small yellow-coloured monkey among the leaves overhead, a thought flashed into his mind and induced him to change his plans. Throwing his spear dexterously he transfixed the monkey and brought it down. Returning with great caution to the bush into which Disco had fired, and gliding with the noiseless motion of a snake the latter part of the way, he placed the dead monkey on the ground and left it there. It was by that time too late to overtake his comrades. He therefore waited until they returned, and then joined the party in rear, as though he had followed them from the camp. The same wild exhibition of delight was about to be enacted when the party came trooping up, but Disco quickly checked it by the astounding announcement that he thought he had shot a lion, or somethin' o' that sort! "You don't mean it!" said Harold, rather excited. "All I know is," said Disco, "that I heerd somethin' uncommon like a lion growl twice in yonder bush, an' saw the bush move too, so I fired a broadside that seemed to finish him at once, for there was no more rustlin' after that." "An' no more growlin'?" asked Jumbo, with much simplicity of countenance. "Not a growl, nor nothin' else," answered Disco. "Well, get your guns ready, lads," said Harold, "and stand by to fire while we go and search the bush." So saying, Harold and Disco advanced together with their rifles ready, while the natives, who were more or less alarmed, according to their respective degrees of courage, scattered in a semicircle well in rear. Kambira, armed with a spear, kept close to Harold, and Jumbo, with unwonted bravery, walked alongside of Disco. Antonio, quietly retiring, took refuge in a tree. "Yoo's _sure_ you hit um?" inquired Jumbo in a whisper. "Can't say I'm _sure_," replied Disco, "but we'll soon see." "Was um's growl very bad?" asked Jumbo. "Hold yer long tongue!" said Disco testily, for he was becoming excited. "Look! see dere!" exclaimed Jumbo in an energetic whisper. "What? where?" "Look! right troo de bush. Dis way. Dar, don' you zee um's skin,-- t'other side? Fire!" "Why, eh!" exclaimed Disco, peering keenly through the leaves, "yellow hair! yes--its--" Stopping abruptly he pointed his gun at the bush and poured the contents of both barrels into it. Then, clubbing his weapon and brandishing it in the air, he uttered a wild cry--went crashing through the bush, and next moment stood aghast before the yellow monkey, whose little carcase he had almost blown to atoms. We won't chronicle the roars of laughter, the yells of delight that followed,--the immense amount of chaffing, the innumerable witticisms and criticisms that ensued--no, no! regard for the gallant seaman constrains us to draw a veil over the scene and leave it, as we have left many things before, and shall leave many things yet to come, to the reader's vivid imagination. Fortunately for Disco, the superior attractions of the dead elephant soon drew off attention from this exploit. The natives proceeded to cut up the huge mass of meat, and this was indeed an amazing spectacle. At first the men stood round the carcase in dead silence, while Kambira delivered a species of oration, in which he pointed out minutely the particular parts of the animal which were to be apportioned to the head-men of the different fires of which the camp was composed,--the left hind-leg and the parts around the eyes being allotted to his English visitors. These points settled, the order was given to "cut up," and immediately the excitement which had been restrained burst forth again with tenfold violence. The natives seemed to be quite unable to restrain their feelings of delight, as they cut away at the carcase with spears and knives. They screamed as well as danced with glee. Some attacked the head, others the flanks, jumping over the animal or standing on it the better to expedite their operations; some ever and anon ran off screaming with masses of bloody meat, threw it on the grass and went back for more, while others, after cutting the carcase open, jumped inside and wallowed about in their eagerness to reach and cut out the precious fat--all talking and shouting at the utmost pitch of their voices. "Well, now," said Disco to Harold, with a grin of amusement, "the likes o' that I never did see nowheres. Cuttin' up a Greenland whale is nothin' to it." "Come, come," said Harold, checking his laughter and seizing an excited negro by the shoulder, "no fighting allowed." This had reference to two who chanced to have taken a fancy for the same mass of meat, and were quarrelling so violently over it that blows seemed on the point of following, but having let off part of their superabundant energy in words, they rushed back to expend the remainder on their dead friend. Suddenly a sharp agonised yell was heard inside the carcase. Next moment Zombo jumped out all bloody and furious, holding up his right hand. While groping about inside, one of his too eager comrades outside had laid about rather incautiously with his knife, drove it through the meat and sliced Zombo's left hand. He was easily soothed, however; Harold bound up the cut with a piece of rag, and Zombo went to work as recklessly as ever. In a marvellously short time tons of meat were cut up and divided amongst the band, and, before daylight had quite disappeared, the hunters were on their way back to camp, while a troop of hyenas and other carnivora were gorging themselves with the elephant's remains. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE ENCAMPMENT AND THE SUPPER--DISCUSSIONS, POLITICAL AND OTHERWISE-- KAMBIRA RECEIVES A SHOCK, AND OUR WANDERERS ARE THROWN INTO PERPLEXITY. Turn we now to a more peaceful scene. The camp is almost quiet, the stars are twinkling brightly overhead, the fires are glimmering fitfully below. The natives, having taken the edge off their appetites, have stretched their dusky forms on their sleeping-mats, and laid their woolly heads on their little wooden pillows. The only persons moving are Harold Seadrift and Disco Lillihammer--the first being busy making notes in a small book, the second being equally busy in manufacturing cloudlets from his unfailing pipe, gazing the while with much interest at his note-making companion. "They was pretty vigorous w'en they wos at it, sir," said Disco, in reference to supper, observing that his companion looked up from his book, "but they wos sooner done than I had expected." "Yes, they weren't long about it," replied Harold, with an abstracted air, as he resumed his writing. Lest the reader should erroneously imagine that supper is over, it is necessary here to explain what taking the edge off a free African's appetite means. On reaching camp after the cutting up of the elephant, as detailed in the last chapter, the negroes had set to work to roast and boil with a degree of vigour that would have surprised even the _chefs de cuisine_ of the world's first-class hotels. Having gorged themselves to an extent that civilised people might perhaps have thought dangerous, they had then commenced an uproarious dance, accompanied by stentorian songs, which soon reduced them to the condition of beings who needed repose. Proceeding upon the principle of overcoming temptation by giving way to it, they at once lay down and went to sleep. It was during this stage of the night's proceedings that Disco foolishly imagined that supper had come to a close. Not many minutes after the observation was made, and before the black cutty-pipe was smoked out, first one and then another of the sleepers awoke, and, after a yawn or two, got up to rouse the fires and put on the cooking-pots. In less than a quarter of an hour the whole camp was astir, conversation was rife, and the bubbling of pots that had not got time to cool, and the hissing of roasts whose fat had not yet hardened, mingled with songs whose echoes were still floating in the brains of the wild inhabitants of the surrounding jungle. Roasting, boiling, and eating were recommenced with as much energy as if the feast had only just begun. Kambira, having roused himself, gave orders to one of his men, who brought one of the elephant's feet and set about the cooking of it at Harold's fire. Kambira and Disco, with Antonio and Jumbo, sat round the same fire. There was a hole in the ground close beside them which contained a small fire; the embers of this were stirred up and replenished with fuel. When the inside was thoroughly heated, the elephant's foot was placed in it, and covered over with hot ashes and soil, and another fire kindled above the whole. Harold, who regarded this proceeding with some surprise, said to Kambira--through Antonio--"Who are you cooking that for?" "For my white guests," replied the chief. "But we have supped already," said Harold; "we have already eaten as much as we can hold of the elephant's trunk and tongue, both of which were excellent--why prepare more?" "This is not for to-night, but for to-morrow," returned Kambira, with a smile. "The foot takes all night to cook." This was a sufficient explanation, and in truth the nature of the dish required that it should be well done. When, on the morrow, they were called to partake of it they found that it was, according to Disco's estimation, "fust-rate!" It was a whitish mass, slightly gelatinous and sweet, like marrow, and very palatable. Nevertheless, they learned from experience that if the effect of bile were to be avoided, a long march was necessary after a meal of elephant's foot! Meanwhile the proceedings of the natives were food enough for our travellers for the time being. Like human creatures elsewhere, they displayed great variety of taste. Some preferred boiled meat, others roast; a few indulged in porridge made of mapira meal. The meal was very good, but the porridge _was_ doubtful, owing to the cookery. It would appear that in Africa, as in England, woman excels in the culinary art. At all events, the mapira meal was better managed by them, than by the men. On the present occasion the hunters tumbled in the meal by handfuls in rapid succession as soon as the water was hot, until it became too thick to be stirred about, then it was lifted off the fire, and one man held the pot while another plied the porridge-stick with all his might to prevent the solid mass from being burnt. Thus it was prepared, and thus eaten, in enormous quantities. No wonder that dancing and profuse perspiration were esteemed a necessary adjunct to feeding! At the close of the second edition of supper, which went into four or five editions before morning, some of the men at the fire next to that of Kambira engaged in a debate so furious, that the curiosity of Disco and Harold was excited, and they caused Antonio to translate much of what was said. It is not possible to give a connected account of this debate as translated by Antonio. To overcome the difficulty we shall give the substance of it in what Disco styled Antonio's "lingo." There were about a dozen natives round the fire, but two of them sustained the chief part in the debate. One of these was a large man with a flat nose; the other was a small man with a large frizzy head. "Hold 'oos tongue," said Flatnose (so Antonio named him); "tongue too long--far!" "Boh! 'oos brains too short," retorted Frizzyhead contemptuously. An immense amount of chattering by the others followed these pithy remarks of the principals. The question in debate was, Whether the two toes of the ostrich represented the thumb and forefinger in man, or the little and ring fingers? But in a few minutes the subject changed gradually, and somehow unaccountably, to questions of a political nature,--for, strange to say, in savage Africa, as in civilised England, politics are keenly discussed, doubtless at times with equal wisdom in the one land as in the other. "What dat 'oo say?" inquired Flatnose, on hearing some muttered remarks of Frizzyhead in reference to the misgovernment of chiefs. Of course there, as here, present company was understood to be excepted. "Chiefs ob no use--no use at all!" said Frizzyhead so vehemently that the men at several of the nearest fires ceased to talk, and began to listen. "Ob no use?" cried Flatnose, with vehemence so superior that the attention of the whole camp was arrested. "No!" replied Frizzyhead, still more energetically, "ob no use at all. We could govern ourselves betterer, so what de use of 'um? The chief 'ums fat an' hab plenty wife, but we, who do all de hard work, hab hunger, an' only one wife, prehaps none at all. Dis is bad, unjust, wrong." There was a general shout of "eehee!" from all quarters, which was equivalent to our "hear, hear." "'Oo know noting at all," retorted Flatnose, who was a loyal subject. "Is not de chief de fader of de peepil? Can dere be peepil widout a fader--eh? God made de chief--who says dat chief is not wise? He _is_ wise, but um's child'n am big fools!" Kambira nodded his head and smiled at this, and there was a general inclination on the part of most of the audience to applaud, for there, as elsewhere, men have a tendency to be blown about by every wind of doctrine. It was amusing to observe the earnestness and freedom with which men of the lowest grade assaulted the opinions of their betters on this occasion. Unable at other times, or in any other way, to bring themselves into importance, they were glad of the opportunity to do so with their tongues, and, like their civilised types, they assumed an air of mock modesty. "Oh!" cried one of these, in reply to Flatnose, "we is littil infants; we is still holdin' on to de boosums ob our moders; we not able to walk alone; we knows notin' at all; but on _dis_ point, we knows that you old men speak like de ignorint peepil. We nebber hear such nonsense-- nebber!" No notice was taken of this, but Frizzyhead, whose passion was rising to white heat in consequence of the glibness of his opponent's tongue, cried out--"'Oo cannot prove wat 'ou says?" "Oh yes, can prove it well 'nuff," replied Flatnose, "but 'oos no' got brain for onerstand." This last was too much for poor Frizzyhead, who leaped up, stuttered, and cried--"Can 'oo outrun me, then?" "Ye--ye--yes!" gasped Flatnose, springing up. Away they went like two hunted springboks, and ran for a mile, then turned and came back into camp streaming with perspiration, little Frizzyhead far ahead of the big man, and rejoicing in the fact that he could beat his opponent in a race, if not in an argument. Thus was peace restored. Pity that civilised arguments cannot be terminated in the same way! While these discussions were going on, Disco observed that hyenas were occasionally to be seen prowling near the verge of the bushes around them, as if anxious to join in the feast, which no doubt was the case. "Don't they do mischief sometimes?" he inquired of Antonio. "No; him a cowardly beast. Him come at mans when sleepin' or dyin', but not at oder time. 'Oo like see me catch um?" "Why, yes, if 'ee can do it," answered Disco, with a slight look of contempt at his friend, who bore too much resemblance in some points to the hyena. "Come here, den." They went together into the jungle a little distance, and halted under the branch of a large tree. To this Antonio suspended a lump of raw flesh, at such a height from the ground that a hyena could only reach it by leaping. Directly underneath it he planted a short spear in the earth with its point upward. "Now, come back to fire," he said to Disco; "'ou soon hear sometin'." Antonio was right. In a short time afterwards a sharp yell was heard, and, on running to the trap, they found a hyena in its death-agonies. It had leaped at the meat, missed it, and had come down on the spear and impaled itself. "Well, of all the fellers I ever know'd for dodges," said Disco, on reseating himself at the fire, "the men in these latitudes are the cleverest." By this time dancing was going on furiously; therefore, as it would have been impossible to sleep, Disco refilled his pipe and amused himself by contemplating the intelligent countenance of Kambira, who sat smoking bang out of a huge native meerschaum on the other side of the fire. "I wonder," said Harold, who lay stretched on a sleeping-mat, leaning on his right arm and gazing contemplatively at the glowing heart of the fire; "I wonder what has become of Yoosoof?" "Was 'ee thinkin' that he deserved to be shoved in there?" asked Disco, pointing to the fire. "Not exactly," replied Harold, laughing; "but I have frequently thought of the scoundrel, and wondered where he is and what doing now. I have sometimes thought too, about that girl Azinte, poor thing. She--" He paused abruptly and gazed at Kambira with great surprise, not unmixed with alarm, for the chief had suddenly dropped his pipe and glared at him in a manner that cannot be described. Disco observed the change also, and was about to speak, when Kambira sprang over the fire and seized Harold by the arm. There was something in the movement, however, which forbade the idea of an attack, therefore he lay still. "What now, Kambira?" he said. "Antonio," cried the chief, in a voice that brought the interpreter to his side in a twinkling; "what name did the white man speak just now?" "Azinte," said Harold, rising to a sitting posture. Kambira sat down, drew up his knees to his chin, and clasped his hands round them. "Tell me all you know about Azinte," he said in a low, firm voice. It was evident that the chief was endeavouring to restrain some powerful feeling, for his face, black though it was, indicated a distinct degree of pallor, and his lips were firmly compressed together. Harold therefore, much surprised as well as interested, related the little he knew about the poor girl,--his meeting with her in Yoosoof's hut; Disco's kindness to her, and her subsequent departure with the Arab. Kambira sat motionless until he had finished. "Do you know where she is gone?" he inquired. "No. I know not; but she was not in the boat with the other slaves when we sailed, from which I think it likely that she remained upon the coast.--But why do you ask, Kambira, why are you so anxious about her?" "She is my wife," muttered the chief between his teeth; and, as he said so, a frown that was absolutely diabolical settled down on his features. For some minutes there was a dead silence, for both Harold and Disco felt intuitively that to offer consolation or hope were out of the question. Presently Kambira raised his head, and a smile chased the frown away as he said--"You have been kind to Azinte, will you be kind to her husband?" "We should be indeed unworthy the name of Englishmen if we said no to that," replied Harold, glancing at Disco, who nodded approval. "Good. Will you take me with you to the shores of the great salt lake?" said Kambira, in a low, pathetic tone, "will you make me your servant, your slave?" "Most gladly will I take you with me as _a friend_," returned Harold. "I need not ask why you wish to go," he added,--"you go to seek Azinte?" "Yes," cried the chief, springing up wildly and drawing himself up to his full height, "I go to seek Azinte. Ho! up men! up! Ye have feasted enough and slept enough for one night. Who knows but the slavers may be at our huts while we lie idly here? Up! Let us go!" The ringing tones acted like a magic spell. Savage camps are soon pitched and sooner raised. In a few minutes the obedient hunters had bundled up all their possessions, and in less than a quarter of an hour the whole band was tracking its way by moonlight through the pathless jungle. The pace at which they travelled home was much more rapid than that at which they had set out on their expedition. Somehow, the vigorous tones in which Kambira had given command to break up the camp, coupled with his words, roused the idea that he must have received information of danger threatening the village, and some of the more anxious husbands and fathers, unable to restrain themselves, left the party altogether and ran back the whole way. To their great relief, however, they found on arriving that all was quiet. The women were singing and at work in the fields, the children shouting at play, and the men at their wonted occupation of weaving cotton cloth, or making nets and bows, under the banyan-trees. Perplexity is not a pleasant condition of existence, nevertheless, to perplexity mankind is more or less doomed in every period of life and in every mundane scene--particularly in the jungles of central Africa, as Harold and his friends found out many a time to their cost. On arriving at the native village, the chief point that perplexed our hero there was as to whether he should return to the coast at once, or push on further into the interior. On the one hand he wished very much to see more of the land and its inhabitants; on the other hand, Kambira was painfully anxious to proceed at once to the coast in search, of his lost wife, and pressed him to set off without delay. The chief was rather an exception in regard to his feelings on this point. Most other African potentates had several wives, and in the event of losing one of them might have found consolation in the others. But Kambira had never apparently thought of taking another wife after the loss of Azinte, and the only comfort he had was in his little boy, who bore a strong resemblance, in some points, to the mother. But although Harold felt strong sympathy with the man, and would have gone a long way out of his course to aid him, he could not avoid perceiving that the case was almost, if not altogether, a hopeless one. He had no idea to what part of the coast Azinte had been taken. For all he knew to the contrary, she might have been long ago shipped off to the northern markets, and probably was, even while he talked of her, the inmate of an Arab harem, or at all events a piece of goods--a "chattel"--in the absolute possession of an irresponsible master. Besides the improbability of Kambira ever hearing what had become of his wife, or to what part of the earth she had been transported, there was also the difficulty of devising any definite course of action for the chief himself, because the instant he should venture to leave the protection of the Englishmen he would be certain to fall into the hands of Arabs or Portuguese, and become enslaved. Much of this Harold had not the heart to explain to him. He dwelt, however, pretty strongly on the latter contingency, though without producing much effect. Death, the chief replied, he did not fear, and slavery could easily be exchanged for death. "Alas! not so easily as you think," said Harold, pointing to Chimbolo, whose sad story he had heard; "they will try _every_ kind of torture before they kill you." Chimbolo nodded his head, assenting, and ground his teeth together fiercely when this was said. Still Kambira was unmoved; he did not care what they did to him. Azinte was as life to him, and to search for her he would go in spite of every consideration. Harold prevailed on him, however, to agree to wait until he should have spent another month in visiting Chimbolo's tribe, after which he promised faithfully to return and take him along with his party to the coast. Neither Harold nor Disco was quite at ease in his mind after making this arrangement, but they both agreed that no other course could be pursued, the former saying with a sigh that there was no help for it, and the latter asserting with a grunt that the thing "wos unawoidable." On the following day the journey of exploration was resumed. Kambira accompanied his friends a few miles on the road, and then bade them farewell. On the summit of an elevated ridge the party halted and looked back. Kambira's manly form could be seen leaning on his spear. Behind him the little village lay embosomed in luxuriant verdure, and glowing in the bright sunshine, while songs and sounds of industry floated towards them like a sweet melody. It was with a feeling of keen regret that the travellers turned away, after waving their hands in reply to a parting salute from the stalwart chief, and, descending to the plain, pushed forward into the unknown wilderness beyond. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. CAMPING, TRAVELLING, SHOOTING, DREAMING, POETISING, PHILOSOPHISING, AND SURPRISING, IN EQUATORIAL AFRICA. At sunset the travellers halted in a peculiarly wild spot and encamped under the shelter of a gigantic baobab tree. Two rousing fires were quickly kindled, round which the natives busied themselves in preparing supper, while their leaders sat down, the one to write up his journal, the other to smoke his pipe. "Well, sir," said Disco, after a few puffs delivered with extreme satisfaction, "you do seem for to enjoy writin'. You go at that log of yours every night, as if it wos yer last will and testament that ye couldn't die happy without exikootin' an' signin' it with yer blood." "A better occupation, isn't it," replied Harold, with a sly glance, "than to make a chimney-pot of my mouth?" "Come, sir," returned Disco, with a deprecatory smile, "don't be too hard on a poor feller's pipe. If you can't enjoy it, that's no argiment against it." "How d'you know I can't enjoy it?" "Why? cos I s'pose you'd take to it if you did." "Did _you_ enjoy it when you first began?" asked Harold. "Well, I can't 'zactly say as I did." "Well, then, if you didn't, that proves that it is not _natural_ to smoke, and why should I acquire an unnatural and useless habit?" "Useless! why, sir, on'y think of wot you loses by not smokin'--wot a deal of enjoyment!" "Well, I _am_ thinking," replied Harold, affecting a look of profound thoughtfulness, "but I can't quite make it out--enjoyment? let me see. Do I not enjoy as good health as you do?" "O, cer'nly, sir, cer'nly. You're quite up to the mark in that respect." "Well then, I enjoy my food as well, and can eat as much, can't I?" "No doubt of it," replied Disco, with a grin; "I was used to be considered raither a dab at wittles, but I must say I knocks under to _you_, sir." "Very good," rejoined Harold, laughing; "then as to sleep, I enjoy sleep quite as soundly as yourself; don't I?" "I can't say as to that," replied Disco. "You see, sir, as I never opens my eyes arter shuttin' of 'em till the bo's'n pipes all hands ahoy, I've no means of knowin' wot you accomplish in that way." "On the whole, then, it seems that I enjoy everything as much as you do, and--" "No, not everything; you don't enjoy baccy, you know.--But please, sir, don't go for to moralise; I can't stand it. You'll spile my pipe if ye do!" "Well, I shall spare you," said Harold, "all the more that I perceive supper is about--" At that moment Antonio, who had gone down to a streamlet which trickled close at hand, gave utterance to a hideous yell, and came rushing into camp with a face that was pea-green from terror. "Ach!" he gasped, "a lion! queek! your guns!" Every one leaped up and seized his weapon with marvellous alacrity on receiving an alarm so violent and unlooked-for. "Where away?" inquired Disco, blazing with excitement, and ready at a moment's notice to rush into the jungle and fire both barrels at whatever should present itself. "No, no, don' go," cried Antonio in alarm; "be cautionous." The interpreter's caution was enforced by Chimbolo, who laid his hand on Disco's arm, and looked at him with such solemnity that he felt it necessary to restrain his ardour. Meanwhile Antonio with trembling steps led Harold to a point in the thicket whence he beheld two bright phosphoric-looking objects which his companion said were the lion's eyes, adding that lion's eyes always shone in that way. Harold threw forward his rifle with the intention of taking aim, but lowered it quickly, for he felt convinced that no lion could possibly have eyes so wide apart unless its head were as large as that of an elephant. "Nonsense, Antonio!" he said, laughing; "that cannot be a lion." "Ho, yis, him's a lion, for sure," Antonio returned, positively. "We shall see." Harold raised his rifle and fired, while Antonio turned and fled, fully expecting the wounded beast to spring. Harold himself half looked for some such act, and shrank behind a bush by way of precaution, but when the smoke cleared away, he saw that the two glowing eyes were gazing at him as fixedly as ever. "Pooh!" exclaimed Disco, brushing past; "I knows wot it is. Many a time I've seed 'em in the West Injies." Saying which, he went straight up to the supposed lion, picked up a couple of glow-worms, and brought them to the camp-fires, much to the amusement of the men, especially of Jumbo, and greatly to the confusion of the valorous interpreter, who, according to his invariable custom when danger threatened, was found to have sought refuge in a tree. This incident furnished ground for much discussion and merriment during supper, in which Antonio, being in no wise ashamed of himself, joined noisily; and Chimbolo took occasion to reprove Disco for his rashness, telling him that it was impossible to kill lions in the jungle during the darkness of night, and that, if they did pay them a visit, it would be wise to let them be, and trust to the camp-fires keeping them at a respectful distance. To which Disco retorted that he didn't believe there was any lions in Afriky, for he'd heard a deal about 'em an' travelled far, but had not yet heard the sound of their woices, an', wot was more, didn't expect to. Before that night was far advanced, Disco was constrained to acknowledge himself in error, for a veritable lion did actually prowl down to the camp, and salute them with a roar which had a wonderfully awe-inspiring effect on every member of the party, especially on those who heard it for the first time in their lives. Just before the arrival of this nocturnal visitor, one of the men had been engaged in some poetic effusions, which claim preliminary notice here, because they were rudely terminated by the lion. This man was one of Kambira's people, and had joined the party by permission. He was one of those beings who, gifted with something like genius, or with superior powers of some sort, have sprung up in Africa, as elsewhere, no doubt from time immemorial, to dazzle their fellows for a little, and then pass away, leaving a trail of tradition behind them. The existence there, in time past, of men of mind far in advance of their fellows, as well as of heroes whose physical powers were marvellous, may be assumed from the fact that some such exist at the present time, as well as from tradition. Some of these heroes have excited the admiration of large districts by their wisdom, others by their courage or their superior dexterity with the spear and bow, like William Tell and Robin Hood, but the memory of these must soon have been obliterated for want of literature. The man who had joined Harold was a poet and a musician. He was an _improvvisatore_, composed verses on the incidents that occurred as they travelled along, and sang them with an accompaniment on an instrument called the _sansa_, which had nine iron keys and a calabash for a sounding-board. The poet's name was Mokompa. With the free and easy disposition of his race, he allowed his fancy to play round the facts of which he sang, and was never at a loss, for, if the right word did not come readily, he spun out the measure with musical sounds which meant nothing at all. After supper was over, or rather when the first interval of repose occurred, Mokompa, who was an obliging and hearty little fellow, was called on for a song. Nothing loath, he seized his sansa and began a ditty, of which the following, given by Antonio, may be regarded as a remarkably free, not to say easy, translation:-- MOKOMPA'S SONG. Kambira goes to hunt, Yo ho! Him's spear am nebber blunt, Yo ho! Him kill de buff'lo quick, An' lub de porridge thick; Him chase de lion too, An' stick um troo an' troo. De 'potimus as well, An' more dan me can tell, Hab down before um fell, Yo ho! De English come to see, Yo ho! Dat werry good for we, Yo ho! No' take us 'way for slaves, Nor put us in our graves, But set de black mans free, W'en cotch um on de sea. Dem splendid shooters, too, We knows what dey can do Wid boil an' roast an' stew, Yo ho! One makes um's gun go crack, Yo ho! An elephant on um's back, Yo ho! De drefful lion roar, De gun goes crack once more, De bullet fly an' splits One monkey into bits, Yo ho! De glow-worm next arise, De Englishman likewise Wid werry much surprise, An' hit um 'tween de eyes, "Hooray! hooray!" um cries, An' run to fetch um's prize-- Yo ho! The last "Yo ho!" was given with tremendous energy, and followed by peals of laughter. It was at this point that the veritable lion thought proper to join in, which he did, as we have said, with a roar so tremendous that it not only put a sudden stop to the music, but filled the party with so much alarm that they sprang to their arms with surprising agility. Mindful of Chimbolo's previous warning, neither Harold nor Disco sought to advance, but both looked at their savage friend for advice. Now, in some parts of Africa there exists a popular belief that the souls of departed chiefs enter into lions and render them sacred, and several members of Harold Seadrift's party entertained this notion. Chimbolo was one of these. From the sounds of growling and rending which issued from the thicket, he knew that the lion in question was devouring part of their buffalo-meat which had been hung on the branch of a neighbouring tree, not, however, near enough to the fires to be visible. Believing that the beast was a chief in disguise, Chimbolo advanced a little towards the place where he was, and, much to our traveller's amusement, gave him a good scolding. "_You_ call yourself a chief, do you--eh?" he said sternly. "What kind of a chief can _you_ be, to come sneaking about in the dark like this, trying to steal our buffalo-meat! Are you not ashamed of yourself? A pretty chief, truly; you are like the scavenger-beetle, and think of yourself only; you have not the heart of a chief. Why don't you kill your own beef? You must have a stone in your chest, and no heart at all." "That's werry flowery lingo, but it don't seem to convince him," said Disco, with a quiet smile, as the lion, which had been growling continuously over its meal all the time, wound up Chimbolo's speech with another terrific roar. At this point another believer in transmigration of souls, a quiet man who seldom volunteered remarks on any subject, stepped forward and began seriously to expostulate with the lion. "It is very wrong of you," he said, "to treat strangers in this fashion. You might have more respect for Englishmen who have come to see your land, and never did you any harm. We are travelling peaceably through the country; we never kill anybody, and never steal anything; the buffalo-meat is ours, not yours, and it ill becomes a great chief like you to be prowling about in the dark, like a hyena, trying to steal the meat of strangers. Surely you can hunt for yourself--there is plenty of meat in the forest." [See Livingstone's _Zambesi and its Tributaries_, page 160.] As the lion was equally deaf to this man's reasoning, Harold thought it right to try a more persuasive plan. He drew up in a line all the men who had guns, and at a word of command they fired a volley of balls into the jungle, in the direction whence the sounds issued. A dead silence followed, but it was deemed advisable not to venture in to see the effect, as men had frequently lost their lives by so doing. A watch, however, was kept during the night, and the fires were well replenished, for they knew that the king of the forest usually shrinks from doing his evil deeds in the light of a strong camp-fire. We say usually--because they are not always thus shy. Authentic instances are on record of lions having leaped into the centre of a bivouac, and carried off one of the men in spite of being smitten in the face with flaming firebrands. Fortunately the lion of which we write thought "discretion the better part of valour." He retired peaceably, nevertheless Disco and his friend continued to dream of him all night so vividly that they started up several times, and seized their rifles, under the impression that he had roared his loudest into their very ears, and after each of these occasions they crept back into their sleeping bags to re-dream of the lion! The "bag" which formed each man's couch was made simply of two mats sewed together, and left open, not at one of the ends but at one of the sides, so that a man could roll out of or into it more easily than he could have slid, feet first, into a sack. It was large enough also for two to sleep inside together, always supposing that the two were of accommodating dispositions! That they had now reached a land which swarmed with wild animals was intimated to some extent by the running past, within fifty yards of their bivouac, of a troop of elephants. It was daybreak at the time, so that, having been thus rudely aroused, they did not deem it necessary to return to rest but after taking a hasty mouthful of food, set forth on their journey. The usual mode of proceeding on the march was as follows:--They rose about five o'clock, or soon after the appearance of dawn, and swallowed a cup of tea, with a bit of biscuit, then some of the men folded up the blankets and stowed them away in the bags, others tied up the cooking utensils, etcetera, in bundles, and hung them at the ends of carrying-sticks, which they bore upon their shoulders. The process did not take long. They were soon on the march, either in single file, if the path were narrow, or in groups, according to fancy, where the ground admitted of their spreading out. About nine, a convenient spot was chosen for a halt to breakfast, which meat, although not "_eaten_ the night before in order to save time in the morning," was at all events _cooked_ on the previous evening for the same end, so that it only needed warming up. Then the march was resumed; a short rest was allowed in the heat of the day, when, of course, Disco had a pipe and much sagacious intercourse with his fellows, and they finally encamped for the remainder of the day and night early in the afternoon. Thus they travelled five or six hours at a stretch, and averaged from twelve to fifteen miles a day, which is about as much as Europeans can stand in a hot climate without being oppressed. This Disco called "taking it easy," and so it was when compared with the custom of some travellers, whose chief end would appear to be the getting over as much ground as possible in a given time, in order that they may afterwards boast of the same, and for the accomplishment of which they are obliged to abuse and look ferocious at the blacks, cock their pistols, and flourish their whips, in a manner which is only worthy of being styled contemptible and cowardly. We need not say that our friends Harold and Disco had no such propensities. They had kindly consideration for the feelings of their "niggers," coupled with great firmness; became very sociable with them, and thus got hearty, willing work out of them. But to return from this digression. During the day, the number of animals of all sorts that were seen was so great as to induce Disco to protest, with a slap of his thigh, that the whole land, from stem to stern, seemed to him to be one prodigious zoological garden--it did, an' no mistake about it. Disco was not far wrong. He and Harold having started ahead of the party, with Chimbolo as their guide, came on a wonderful variety of creatures in rapid succession. First, they fell in with some large flocks of guinea-fowl, and shot a few for dinner. As they advanced, various birds ran across their path, and clouds of turtle-doves filled the air with the blatter of their wings as they rose above the trees. Ducks, geese, and francolins helped to swell the chorus of sounds. When the sun rose and sent a flood of light over a wide and richly wooded vale, into which they were about to descend, a herd of pallahs stood gazing at the travellers in stupid surprise, and allowed them to approach within sixty yards before trotting leisurely away. These and all other animals were passed unmolested, as the party had sufficient meat at the time, and Harold made it a point not to permit his followers to shoot animals for the mere sake of sport, though several of them were uncommonly anxious to do so. Soon afterwards a herd of waterbucks were passed, and then a herd of koodoos, with two or three magnificently-horned bucks amongst them, which hurried off to the hillsides on seeing the travellers. Antelopes also were seen, and buffaloes, grazing beside their path. Ere long they came upon a small pond with a couple of elephants standing on its brink, cooling their huge sides by drawing water into their trunks and throwing it all over themselves. Behind these were several herds of zebras and waterbucks, all of which took to flight on "getting the wind" of man. They seemed intuitively to know that he was an enemy. Wild pigs, also, were common, and troops of monkeys, large and small, barked, chattered, grinned, and made faces among the trees. After pitching the camp each afternoon, and having had a mouthful of biscuit, the two Englishmen were in the habit of going off to hunt for the daily supply of fresh meat accompanied by Chimbolo as their guide and game-carrier, Antonio as their interpreter, and Mokompa as their poet and jester. They did not indeed, appoint Mokompa to that post of honour, but the little worthy took it upon himself, for the express purpose of noting the deeds of the white men, in order to throw his black comrades into convulsions over supper by a poetic recital of the same. "It pleases them, an' it don't hurt us," was Disco's observation on this head. On the afternoon, then, of which we write, the party of four went out to hunt, while the encampment was being prepared under the superintendence of Jumbo, who had already proved himself to be an able manager and cook, as also had his countrymen Masiko and Zombo. "What a rich country!" exclaimed Harold, looking round in admiration from the top of a small hillock on as fine a scene as one could wish to behold, "and what a splendid cotton country it might be if properly cultivated!" "So it is," said Disco, "an' I shouldn't wonder if there wos lots of gold too, if we only knew where to look for it." "Gold!" exclaimed Antonio, who sat winking placidly on the stump of a fallen tree; "dere be lots ob gold near Zambesi--an' oder ting too." "Let's hear wot are some of the other things," said Disco. "What are dere?--oh, let me see: der be coal, lots ob coal on Zambesi, any amount ob it, an' it burn fuss-rate, too. Dere be iron-ore, very much, an' indigo, an' sugar-cane, an ivory; you hab hear an' see yooself about de elephants an' de cottin, an' tobacco. [See Livingstone's _Zambesi and its Tributaries_, page 52.] Oh! great plenty ob eberyting eberywhere in dis yere country, but," said Antonio, with a shrug of his shoulders, "no can make noting out ob it on account ob de slave-trade." "Then I 'spose 'ee don't approve of the slave-trade?" said Disco. "No, dat am true," replied Antonio; "de country very good for slave-trader, but no good for man like me what want to trade proper." "H'm! I've more respect for 'ee than I had," said Disco. "I 'spose you've bin up in these parts before now, have 'ee?" "No, nevah, but I hab sister what marry one nigger, one slave, what sold himself, an' him tell me much 'bout it. Hims bin up here many time." "Sold himself!" repeated Harold in surprise. "What do you mean?" "Mean dat," returned Antonio. "Him was a black free-man--call him Chibanti; him was all alone in de world, lose fader, moder, broder, sister, wife, eberyting by slave-trader, who steal dem all away or murder dem. So Chibanti him say, `What de use of be free?' So him go to one master, who berry good to hims niggers--gib dem plenty to eat an' little to do--an' sole hisself to him." "An' wot did he get for himself?" asked Disco. "Got ninety yard ob cottin cloth." "Did he consider himself cheap or dear at that?" inquired Disco. "Oh, dear--awful dear!" "What has come of him now?" asked Harold. "Dunno," answered Antonio. "After him got de cloth, hims master send him to Quillimane wid cargo ob ivory, an' gib him leave to do leetil trade on hims own account; so him bought a man, a woman, an' a boy, for sixty yard ob cottin, an' wid de rest hired slaves for de voyage down, an' drove a mos' won'erful trade. But long time since me hear ob him. P'raps hims good master be dead, an' him go wid de rest of de goods an' chattels to a bad master, who berry soon make him sorry him sole hisself." Pushing forward for several days in the manner which we have attempted to describe, our travellers passed through many varied scenes, which, however, all bore one mark in common, namely, teeming animal and vegetable life. Human beings were also found to be exceedingly numerous, but not so universally distributed as the others, for, although many villages and hamlets were passed, the inhabitants of which were all peacefully inclined and busy in their fields, or with their native cotton, iron, and pottery manufactures, vast expanses of rich ground were also traversed, which, as far as man was concerned, appeared to be absolute solitudes. Entering upon one of these about noon of a remarkably fine day, Harold could not help remarking on the strange stillness which pervaded the air. No sound was heard from beast, bird, or insect; no village was near, no rippling stream murmured, or zephyr stirred the leaves; in short, it was a scene which, from its solitude and profound silence, became oppressive. "W'y, sir," said Disco, whose face was bathed in perspiration, "it do seem to me as if we'd got to the fag-end of the world altogether. There ain't nothin' nowhere." Harold laughed, and said it looked like it. But Disco was wrong. It was only the hour when animals seem to find a _siesta_ indispensable, and vegetables as well as air had followed their example. A few minutes sufficed to prove their mistake, for, on entering a piece of woodland, a herd of pallahs, and another of water-bucks, appeared, standing as quiet and still as if they were part of a painted landscape. Then, in passing a thick clump of thorns, they could see, through openings in the bushes, the dim phantom-like forms of buffaloes, with heads lowered and eyes glaring at them, ready to charge, if need be, though too lazy from heat, apparently, to begin the 'fray, and willing to act on the principle of "let be for let be." Still farther on, a native was observed keeping at a respectful distance. He had seen the travellers from afar, and come with noiseless tread to get a nearer view. Halting to rest the party for a few minutes in a shady hollow, Harold threw himself at full length on the grass, but Disco, who, strange to say, did not feel inclined to smoke at the moment--probably because he had only just finished his fifth pipe a few minutes previously-- sauntered on alone to the top of the next ridge. He had barely reached the summit when Harold, who chanced to be looking after him, observed that he crouched suddenly behind a bush, and, after gazing steadfastly for a few seconds over the hill, turned and ran back, making excessively wild demonstrations with head and arms, but uttering no sound. Of course the whole party sprang up and ran towards the excited mariner, and soon were near enough to understand that his violent actions were meant to caution them to make no noise. "Hush!" he said eagerly, on coming near enough to be heard; "keep quiet as mice. There's a slave-gang, or somethin' uncommon like it, goin' along on right athwart us." Without a word of reply, the whole party hurried forward and gained a point of observation behind the low bushes which crowned the ridge. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. SHOWS SOME OF THE EFFECTS OF THE SLAVE-TRADE AT THE FOUNTAIN-HEAD. Down in a gorge, just below the spot where Harold Seadrift and his men lay concealed, a strange sight met the eyes of the two Englishmen, in regard to which, despite all that they had heard and seen, and were prepared to see, they were as much shocked as if it had never been presented even to their imaginations up to that moment. It was a gang of slaves winding its way slowly but steadily through the gorge. The head of the dusky procession was just emerging on the open ground beyond the gorge when the travellers first came upon it. The slaves advanced towards the spot where they lay, passing under it so closely that they could see the very expressions on the faces of the men, women, and children who composed the gang. These expressions were varied and very terrible. Our travellers had now reached the fountain-head whence the perennial stream of "Black Ivory" flows out of Africa. The process of manufacture, although considerably advanced, had not yet reached that perfection of callous subjection and settled despair which had struck our Englishmen so forcibly in the slave-market of Zanzibar. There was anxiety not unmingled with faint hope in the faces of some of the women; and a few of the more stalwart and courageous among the men wore a fierce, determined aspect which told of manhood not yet absolutely prostrated in the dust of abject servility, while, in regard to some of the children, surprise at the peculiar circumstances of their surroundings had not yet been swallowed up in a condition of chronic terror. They marched in a long line, fastened to each other by chains and ropes and heavy "gorees" or slave-sticks. The latter implements were poles from six to seven feet long, with a fork at the end of each, in which the necks of the men were fitted and secured by means of an iron bolt, passing across the throat and riveted at both ends. To render marching possible with such encumbrances, the men went in couples, one behind the other, so that the slave-stick of the leading man could be tied to the stick of his fellow behind, which was slewed round to the front for the purpose. Their wrists were also tied, some in front, others behind their backs. Secured thus, Hercules himself might have been reduced to obedience, especially if he had felt the frequent sting of the cruel lash that was laid on these captives, a lash whose power was made manifest by the numerous seams and scars which crossed and recrossed their backs and limbs. The women and children were deemed sufficiently secure by being fastened to each other with ropes and iron rings round their necks. All were naked, with the exception of a little piece of cloth round the loins, and some of the women had infants of a few weeks old strapped to their backs by means of this shred of cloth, while others carried baskets on their heads containing meal for the sustenance of the party during their journey. In advance of the line marched a tall, powerfully-built half-caste, armed with a musket and small axe, and clad in a loose coat, short drawers reaching the knees, and straw hat. He was obviously the commander of the band. Behind him came several negroes, also armed with muskets, and with thick wands for the purpose of flagellation. These wore loin-cloths and turbans or red caps, but nothing more. They laughed, talked and strutted as they went along, forming a marked contrast to the silent and depressed slaves. At intervals along the line, and in rear, there were stationed one or two of these drivers, who urged on their "cattle" with more or less cruelty, according to their individual impulses or natures. We need scarcely say that this sight filled Harold and Disco not only with feelings of horror and pity, but with sensations of towering indignation that almost suffocated them. Those who only read of such things at home can form but a faint conception of what it is actually to behold them. "We must fight!" muttered Harold between his teeth. Disco could not speak, but he looked at his companion, and gave a nod that plainly indicated the state of his feelings. "'Sh!" hissed Chimbolo, creeping up at that moment and laying his hand, which trembled violently, on Harold's shoulder, "Marizano!" "What! the scoundrel in advance?" Chimbolo pointed to the leader of the slave-gang, and almost foamed at the mouth with suppressed rage. At that moment their attention was attracted to a woman who walked immediately behind the slavers. She was a young and, according to African ideas, a comely girl, but was apparently very weak--so weak that she panted and stumbled as she went along, a circumstance which was accounted for by the little infant tied to her back, which could not have been more than a couple of weeks old. Stumbling against the fallen branch of a tree, she fell at last with a low wail to the ground, and made no effort, as on previous occasions, to recover herself. The whole gang stopped, and Marizano, turning back, pushed the woman with his foot. A fine-looking young man, who was the leader in a couple secured by a slave-stick, seemed to regard this woman with a degree of interest that argued near relationship. He started forward half involuntarily when the Portuguese half-caste kicked her. He had forgotten for an instant his fellow in rear, as well as the bar of the goree across his throat, which checked him violently; at the same time one of the drivers, who had observed the movement, laid a supple wand across his bare back so sharply as to draw forth a terrific yell of agony. This was too much for Disco Lillihammer. Unable to restrain himself, he leaped up, seized his rifle by the muzzle with both hands, and, swinging it round his head, rushed upon Marizano with a bursting shout of rage and defiance. It is probable that the half-caste leader, who was by no means destitute of courage, would have stood his ground had his assailant been a man of colour, but this unexpected apparition of a white man with a fiery countenance and blue eyes that absolutely flashed as he rushed forward with irresistible fury, was too much for him. Firing hastily, and with bad aim, Marizano turned and fled into the woods, followed by all his men. There was however a large band of Ajawa savages in rear, armed with bows and poisoned arrows. When he encountered these the Portuguese chief halted, and, rallying his men, took shelter behind trees and began to fire at the advancing enemy. Seeing this, Harold drew his men together and made them fire a united volley, which had the effect of utterly routing the slavers. Disco meanwhile, finding that he could not overtake Marizano, at last did what he ought to have done at first--kneeled down, took deliberate aim at him, and fired. His agitation prevented accuracy of aim; nevertheless he succeeded in sending a bullet through the fleshy part of the man's arm, above the elbow, which effectually put him to flight. Returning to the slaves, who had been left standing where they were first stopped, in a state of great surprise and perplexity, he assisted his companions in freeing them. This was easy enough in regard to the women and children, but the gorees on the men were very difficult to remove. Being riveted, as we have said, it became necessary to split the forks with hatchets, an operation which endangered the heads of the poor captives and hurt their galled necks considerably. It was accomplished however in the midst of a deal of excitement and hurried conversation, while Jumbo and his comrades kindled fires, and Harold bade the women cook the meal--which they had hitherto carried--for themselves and their children. They seemed to consider this too good news to be true, but on being encouraged, began with alacrity. "Don't be afeared, lass," cried Disco, patting a young woman on the head, "eat as much as 'ee like. You need it, poor thing, an' stuff the childer till they can't hold no more. Bu'st 'em if 'ee can. The slavers won't come back here in a hurry. Ha! I only wish they would, an' let us have a brush with 'em. But there's no such luck. Cowards never fight 'xcept w'en they're sure to win.--Now, piccaninny, here you are," he said, stuffing some raw mapira meal into the open mouth of a thin little girl of about six or seven, who was gazing at him in open-eyed surprise; "don't put off time, you're half-starved already!" The little black skeleton began to chew the dry meal with evident satisfaction, but without taking her eyes off her deliverer. "Who are _you_?" asked a somewhat older girl of Harold, whom she regarded with looks of reverence and wonder. Of course Harold did not understand her, but he immediately called Antonio, who translated. "Who are you?" she said; "the other people tied and starved us, but you cut the ropes and tell us to eat; what sort of people are you? Where did you come from?" To this Harold replied briefly that he was an Englishman, who hated slavers and slavery, but he said nothing more at that time, as he intended to have a palaver and explanation with the freed captives after their meal was over. There was a great clapping of hands among the slaves, expressive of gratitude, on hearing that they were free. About a hundred sat down to that meal, most of whom were women and children, and the manner in which they devoured the food set before them, told eloquently of their previous sufferings. At first they timidly held back, scarce venturing to believe that their new captors, as they thought them, were in earnest. But when their doubts and fears were removed, they attacked the mapira porridge like ravening wolves. Gradually the human element began to reappear, in the shape of a comment or a smile, and before long the women were chatting together, and a few of the stronger among the young children were making feeble attempts to play. When the oldest man of the party, who appeared to be between twenty and thirty, was brought forward and questioned, he gave some interesting and startling information. "Tell him," said Harold to Antonio, "that we are Englishmen; that we belong to the same nation as the great white man Dr Livingstone, who travelled through this land some years ago--the nation which hates slavery because the Great God hates it, and would have all men to be free, to serve each other in love, and to do to other people as they would have other people do to them. Ask him, also, where he comes from, and who captured him and his companions." To this the negro replied--"What the white man says may be true, but the white men seem to tell lies too much. The men who killed our warriors, burned our villages, and took our women and children away, came to us saying that they were friends; that they were the servants of the same people as the white man Livingstone, and wanted to trade with us. When we believed and trusted them, and were off our guard, they fired on us with their guns. We know not what to think or to believe." Harold was much perplexed by this reply, for he knew not what evidence to cite in proof that he, at least was not a deceiver. "Tell him," he said at length, "that there are false white men as well as true, and that the best proof I can give him that I am one of the true is, to set him and his friends at liberty. They are now as free to go where they please as we are." On receiving this assurance the negro retired to consult with his friends. Meanwhile Antonio, who seemed to have been touched by the unvarying kindness with which he had been treated by his employers, opened his mind to them, and gave them a good deal of information, of which the substance is as follows:-- At that time the merchants of the Portuguese inland town of Tette, on the Zambesi, were carrying on the slave-trade with unusual vigour, for this reason, that they found it difficult to obtain ivory except in exchange for slaves. In former years they had carried on a trade in ivory with a tribe called the Banyai, these Banyai being great elephant-hunters, but it happened that they went to war with another tribe named the Matabele, who had managed to steal from them all their women and children. Consequently, the forlorn Banyai said to the Tette merchants, when they went to trade with them as they had been accustomed to do, "We do not want your merchandise. Bring us women and children, and you shall have as much ivory as you wish." These good people of Tette--being chiefly half-caste Portuguese, and under Portuguese government, and claiming, as they do, to be the possessors of that region of Africa--are so utterly incapable of holding their own, that they are under the necessity of paying tribute to a tribe of savages who come down annually to Tette to receive it, and who, but for that tribute, would, as they easily could, expel them from the land. These merchants of Tette, moreover, in common with all the Portuguese in Africa, are by the laws of Portugal prohibited from engaging in the _export_ slave-trade. They are not, however, forbidden to engage temporarily in the "domestic slave-trade," hence they had sent out slaving parties--in other words, robbers, kidnappers, murderers--who hired the warlike Ajawa tribe to aid them in killing the Manganja men, and robbing them of their wives and little ones, by which means they were enabled to supply the demand for such "cattle" among the Banyai, and thus obtained the desired supply of ivory! So vigorously had this slave traffic been carried on, at the time of which we write, that no fewer than two hundred people--mostly women and children--were carried out of the hill-country every week. [See _The Universities' Mission to Central Africa_, page 112.] In a short time the negro returned to the place where Harold and Disco were seated, and said that he believed his white deliverers were true men, but added that he and his people had no home to go to; their village having been burnt, and all the old people and warriors killed or dispersed by Marizano, who was a terribly cruel man. In proof of this assertion he said that only the day before, Marizano had shot two of the women for attempting to untie their thongs; a man had been killed with an axe because he had broken-down with fatigue; and a woman had her infant's brains dashed out because she was unable to carry it, as well as the load assigned to her. "It is difficult to decide what one should do in these circumstances," said Harold to Disco. "You know it would never do to leave these helpless people here to starve; but if we take them on with us our progress will be uncommonly slow." "We'd better take 'em back," said Disco. "Back! Where to?" "W'y, to the last village wot we passed through. It ain't more than a day's march, an' I'm sure the old feller as is capting of it would take care o' the lot." "There is good advice in that, yet I grudge to go back," said Harold; "if there were a village the same distance in advance, I would rather take them on." "But there ain't," returned Disco. "Hallo! I say, wot's wrong with Tony?" The interpreter came forward with a look of much excitement as he spoke. "What now, Antonio?" "Oh! it's drefful," replied the interpreter. "Dey tells me have hear Marizano speak ob anoder slaving party what go straight to Kambira's village for attack it." "Who told you that? Are they sure?" asked Harold hastily. "Two, t'ree mans tole me," replied Antonio. "All say same ting. Too late to help him now, me's 'fraid." "Never say too late," cried Disco, starting up; "never say die while there's a shot in the locker. It may be time enough yet if we only look sharp. I votes that we leave nearly all the provisions we have with these poor critters here; up anchor, 'bout ship, clap on all sail, and away this werry minit." Harold agreed with this advice heartily, and at once acted on it. The arrangements were quickly made, the provisions distributed, an explanation made, and in less than an hour the travellers were retracing their steps in hot haste. By taking a straight line and making forced marches, they arrived in sight of the ridge where they had last seen Kambira, on the evening of the third day. As they drew near Harold pushed impatiently forward, and, outrunning his companions, was first to reach the summit. Disco's heart sank within him, for he observed that his companion stood still, bowed his head, and covered his face with both hands. He soon joined him, and a groan burst from the seaman's breast when he saw dense volumes of smoke rising above the spot where the village had so recently lain a picture of peaceful beauty. Even their followers, accustomed though they were, to scenes and deeds of violence and cruelty, could not witness the grief of the Englishmen unmoved. "P'raps," said Disco, in a husky voice, "there's some of 'em left alive, hidin' in the bushes." "It may be so," replied Harold, as he descended the slope with rapid strides. "God help them!" A few minutes sufficed to bring them to the scene of ruin, but the devastation caused by the fire was so great that they had difficulty in recognising the different spots where the huts had stood. Kambira's hut was, however, easily found, as it stood on a rising ground. There the fight with the slavers had evidently been fiercest, for around it lay the charred and mutilated remains of many human bodies. Some of these were so far distinguishable that it could be told whether they belonged to man, woman, or child. "Look here!" said Disco, in a deep, stern voice, as he pointed to an object on the ground not far from the hut. It was the form of a woman who had been savagely mangled by her murderers. The upturned and distorted face proved it to be Yohama, the grandmother of little Obo. Near to her lay the body of a grey-haired negro, who might to judge from his position, have fallen in attempting to defend her. "Oh! if the people of England only saw this sight!" said Harold, in a low tone; "if they only believed in and _realised_ this fact, there would be one universal and indignant shout of `No toleration of slavery anywhere throughout the world!'" "Look closely for Kambira or his son," he added, turning to his men. A careful search among the sickening remains was accordingly made, but without any discovery worth noting being made, after which they searched the surrounding thickets. Here sad evidence of the poor fugitives having been closely pursued was found in the dead bodies of many of the old men and women, and of the very young children and infants; also the bodies of a few of the warriors. All these had been speared, chiefly through the back. Still they were unsuccessful in finding the bodies of the chief or his little boy. "It's plain," said Disco, "that they have either escaped or been took prisoners." "Here is some one not quite dead," said Harold,--"Ah! poor fellow!" He raised the unfortunate man's head on his knee, and recognised the features of the little man who had entertained them with his tunes on the native violin. It was in vain that Antonio tried to gain his attention while Disco moistened his lips with water. He had been pierced in the chest with an arrow. Once only he opened his eyes, and a faint smile played on his lips, as if he recognised friends, but it faded quickly and left the poor musician a corpse. Leaving, with heavy hearts, the spot where they had spent such pleasant days and nights, enjoying the hospitality of Kambira and his tribe, our travellers began to retrace their steps to the place where they had left the rescued slaves, but that night the strong frame of Disco Lillihammer succumbed to the influence of climate. He was suddenly stricken with African fever, and in a few hours became as helpless as a little child. In this extremity Harold found it necessary to encamp. He selected the highest and healthiest spot in the neighbourhood, caused his followers to build a rude, but comparatively comfortable, hut and set himself diligently to hunt for, and to tend, his sick friend. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. TREATS OF LOVE, HATRED, AND SORROW, AND PROVES THAT SLAVERY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES ARE NOT CONFINED TO BLACK MEN AND WOMEN. We must now change the scene to the garden of that excellent Governor, Senhor Francisco Alfonso Toledo Bignoso Letotti, and the date to three months in advance of the period in which occurred the events related in the last chapter. "Maraquita, I am sorry to find that you still persist in encouraging that morbid regret for the loss of one who cannot now be recovered." Thus spoke the Governor in tones that were unusually petulant for one who idolised his child. "Father, why did you sell her without saying a word to me about your intention? It was very, very, _very_ unkind--indeed it was." Poor Maraquita's eyes were already red and swollen with much weeping, nevertheless she proceeded to increase the redness and the swelling by a renewed burst of passionate distress. The worthy Governor found it difficult to frame a reply or to administer suitable consolation, for in his heart he knew that he had sold Azinte, as it were surreptitiously, to Marizano for an unusually large sum of money, at a time when his daughter was absent on a visit to a friend. The noted Portuguese kidnapper, murderer, rebel and trader in black ivory, having recovered from his wound, had returned to the town, and, being well aware of Azinte's market value, as a rare and remarkably beautiful piece of ivory of extra-superfine quality, had threatened, as well as tempted, Governor Letotti beyond his powers of resistance. Marizano did not want the girl as his own slave. He wanted dollars, and, therefore, destined her for the markets of Arabia or Persia, where the smooth-tongued and yellow-skinned inhabitants hold that robbery, violence, and cruelty, such as would make the flesh of civilised people creep, although horrible vices in themselves, are nevertheless, quite justifiable when covered by the sanction of that miraculous talisman called a "domestic institution." The British Government had, by treaty, agreed to respect slavery in the dominions of the Sultan of Zanzibar, as a domestic institution with which it would not interfere! Governor Letotti's heart had smitten him at first for he really was an amiable man, and felt kindly disposed to humanity at large, slaves included. Unfortunately the same kindliness was concentrated with tenfold power on himself, so that when self-interest came into play the amiable man became capable of deeds that Marizano himself might have been proud of. The only difference, in fact, between the two was that the Governor, like the drunkard, often felt ashamed of himself, and sometimes wished that he were a better man, while the man-stealer gloried in his deeds, and had neither wish nor intention to improve. "Maraquita," said Senhor Letotti, still somewhat petulantly, though with more of remonstrance in his tone, "how can you speak so foolishly? It was out of my power you know, to speak to you when you were absent about what I intended to do. Besides, I was, at the time, very much in need of some ready money, for, although I am rich enough, there are times when most of my capital is what business men called `locked up,' and therefore not immediately available. In these circumstances, Marizano came to me with a very tempting offer. But there are plenty of good-looking, amiable, affectionate girls in Africa. I can easily buy you another slave quite as good as Azinte." "As good as Azinte!" echoed Maraquita wildly, starting up and gazing at her father with eyes that flashed through her tears, "Azinte, who has opened her heart to me--her bursting, bleeding heart--and told me all her former joys and all her present woes, and who loves me as she loves--ay, better than she loves--her own soul, merely because I dropped a few tears of sympathy on her little hand! Another as good as Azinte!" she cried with increasing vehemence; "would _you_ listen with patience to any one who should talk to you of another as good as Maraquita?" "Nay, but," remonstrated the Governor, "you are now raving; your feelings towards Azinte cannot be compared with my love for _you_." "If you loved me as I thought you did, you would not--you could not-- have thus taken from me my darling little maid. Oh! shame, shame on you, father--" She could say no more, but rushed from the room to fling herself down and sob out her feelings in the privacy of her own chamber, where she was sought out by the black cook, who had overheard some of the conversation, and was a sympathetic soul. But that amiable domestic happened to be inopportunely officious; she instantly fled from the chamber, followed by the neatest pair of little slippers imaginable, which hit her on the back of her woolly head,--for Maraquita, like other spoilt children, had made up her mind _not_ to be comforted. Meanwhile the Governor paced the floor of his drawing-room with uneasy feelings, which, however, were suddenly put to flight by the report of a gun. Hastening to the window, he saw that the shot had been fired by a war-steamer which was entering the bay. "Ha! the `Firefly;' good!" exclaimed the Governor, with a gratified look; "this will put it all right." He said nothing more, but left the room hastily. It may however be as well to explain that his remark had reference to the mutual affection which he was well aware existed between his daughter and the gallant Lieutenant Lindsay. He had not, indeed, the most remote intention of permitting Maraquita to wed the penniless officer, but he had no objection whatever to their flirting as much as they pleased; and he readily perceived that nothing would be more likely to take the Senhorina's thoughts off her lost maid than the presence of her lover. There was a bower in a secluded corner of the Governor Letotti's garden, a very charming bower indeed, in which Lieutenant Lindsay had been wont at times when duty to the Queen of England permitted, to hold sweet converse with the "queen of his soul." What that converse was it neither becomes us to say nor the reader to inquire. Perhaps it had reference to astronomy, perchance to domestic economy. At all events it was always eminently satisfactory to both parties engaged, save when the Senhorina indulged in a little touch of waywardness, and sent the poor officer back to his ship with a heavy heart, for the express purpose of teaching him the extent of her power and the value of her favour. She overclouded him now and then, just to make him the more ardently long for sunshine, and to convince him that in the highest sense of the word he was a slave! To this bower, then, the Senhorina returned with a sad heart and swollen eyes, to indulge in vain regrets. Her sorrows had overwhelmed her to such an extent that she failed to observe the `Firefly's' salute. It was therefore with a look of genuine surprise and agitation that she suddenly beheld Lieutenant Lindsay, who had availed himself of the first free moment, striding up the little path that led to the bower. "Maraquita!" he exclaimed, looking in amazement at the countenance of his lady-love, which was what Norsemen style "begrutten." But Maraquita was in no mood to be driven out of her humour, even by her lover. "I am miserable," she said with vehemence, clenching one of her little fists as though she meditated an assault on the lieutenant--"utterly, absolutely, inconsolably miserable." If Lindsay had entertained any doubt regarding the truth of her assertion, it would have been dispelled by her subsequent conduct, for she buried her face in a handkerchief and burst into tears. "Beloved, adorable, tender, delicious Maraquita," were words which leapt into the lieutenant's mind, but he dare not utter them with his lips. Neither did he venture to clasp Maraquita's waist with his left arm, lay her pretty little head on his breast and smooth her luxuriant hair with his right hand, though he felt almost irresistibly tempted so to do-- entirely from feelings of pity, of course,--for the Senhorina had hitherto permitted no familiarities beyond a gentle pressure of the hand on meeting and at parting. It is unnecessary to repeat all that the bashful, though ardent, man of war said to Maraquita, or all that Maraquita said to the man of war; how, ignoring the celestial orbs and domestic economy, she launched out into a rhapsodical panegyric of Azinte; told how the poor slave had unburdened her heart to her about her handsome young husband and her darling little boy in the far off interior, from whom she had been rudely torn, and whom she never expected to see again; and how she, Maraquita, had tried to console Azinte by telling her that there was a heaven where good people might hope to meet again, even though they never met on earth, and a great deal more besides, to all of which the earnest lieutenant sought to find words wherewith to express his pity and sympathy, but found them not, though he was at no loss to find words to tell the queen of his soul that, in the peculiar circumstances of the case, and all things considered, his love for her (Maraquita) was tenfold more intense than it had ever been before! "Foolish boy," said the Senhorina, smiling through her tears, "what is the use of telling me that? Can it do any good to Azinte?" "Not much, I'm afraid," replied the lieutenant. "Well, then, don't talk nonsense, but tell me what I am to do to recover my little maid." "It is impossible for me to advise," said the lieutenant with a perplexed look. "But you _must_ advise," said Maraquita, with great decision. "Well, I will try. How long is it since Azinte was taken away from you?" "About two weeks." "You say that Marizano was the purchaser. Do you know to what part of the coast he intended to convey her?" "How should I know? I have only just heard of the matter from my father." "Well then, you must try to find out from your father all that he knows about Marizano and his movements. That is the first step. After that I will consider what can be done." "Yes, Senhor," said Maraquita, rising suddenly, "you must consider quickly, and you must act at once, for you must not come here again until you bring me news of Azinte." Poor Lindsay, who knew enough of the girl's character to believe her to be thoroughly in earnest, protested solemnly that he would do his utmost. All that Maraquita could ascertain from her father was, that Marizano meant to proceed to Kilwa, the great slave-depot of the coast, there to collect a large cargo of slaves and proceed with them to Arabia, whenever he had reason to believe that the British cruisers were out of the way. This was not much to go upon, but the Senhorina was as unreasonable as were the Egyptians of old, when they insisted on the Israelites making bricks without straw. He was unexpectedly helped out of his dilemma by Captain Romer, who called him into his cabin that same evening, told him that he had obtained information of the movements of slavers, which induced him to think it might be worth while to watch the coast to the northward of Cape Dalgado, and bade him prepare for a cruise in charge of the cutter, adding that the steamer would soon follow and keep them in view. With a lightened heart Lindsay went off to prepare, and late that night the cutter quietly pulled away from the `Firefly's' side, with a well-armed crew, and provisioned for a short cruise. Their object was to proceed as stealthily as possible along the coast, therefore they kept inside of islands as much as possible, and cruised about a good deal at nights, always sleeping on board the boat, as the low-lying coast was very unhealthy, but landing occasionally to obtain water and to take a survey of the sea from convenient heights. Early one morning as they were sailing with a very light breeze, between two small islands, a vessel was seen looming through the haze, not far from shore. Jackson, one of the men, who has been introduced to the reader at an earlier part of this narrative, was the first to observe the strangers. "It's a brig," he said; "I can make out her royals." "No, it's a barque," said the coxswain. A little midshipman, named Midgley, differed from both, and said it was a large dhow, for he could make out the top of its lateen sail. "Whatever it is, we'll give chase," said Lindsay, ordering the men to put out the oars and give way, the sail being of little use. In a few minutes the haze cleared sufficiently to prove that Midgley was right. At the same time it revealed to those on board the dhow that they were being chased by the boat of a man-of-war. The little wind that blew at the time was insufficient to enable the dhow to weather a point just ahead of her, and the cutter rowed down on her so fast that it was evidently impossible for her to escape. Seeing this, the commander of the dhow at once ran straight for the shore. Before the boat could reach her she was among the breakers on the bar, which were so terrible at that part of the coast as to render landing in a small boat quite out of the question. In a few minutes the dhow was hurled on the beach and began to break up, while her crew and cargo of slaves swarmed into the sea and tried to gain the shore. It seemed to those in the boat that some hundreds of negroes were struggling at one time in the seething foam. "We must risk it, and try to save some of the poor wretches," cried Lindsay; "give way, lads, give way!" The boat shot in amongst the breakers, and was struck by several seas in succession, and nearly swamped ere it reached the shore. But they were too late to save many of the drowning. Most of the strongest of the slaves had gained the shore and taken to the hills in wild terror, under the impression so carefully instilled into them by the Arabs, that the only object the Englishmen had in view was to catch, cook, and eat them! The rest were drowned, with the exception of two men and seven little children, varying from five to eight years of age, who were found crawling on the beach, in such a state of emaciation that they could not follow their companions into the bush. They tried, however, in their own feeble, helpless way, to avoid capture and the terrible fate which they thought awaited them. These were soon lifted tenderly into the boat. "Here, Jackson," cried Lindsay, lifting one of the children in his strong arms, and handing it to the sailor, "carry that one very carefully, she seems to be almost gone. God help her, poor, poor child!" There was good cause for Lindsay's pity, for the little girl was so thin that every bone in her body was sticking out--her elbow and knee-joints being the largest parts of her shrunken limbs, and it was found that she could not rise or even stretch herself out, in consequence, as was afterwards ascertained, of her having been kept for many days in the dhow in a sitting posture, with her knees doubled up against her face. Indeed, most of the poor little things captured were found to be more or less stiffened from the same cause. An Arab interpreter had been sent with Lindsay, but he turned out to be so incapable that it was scarcely possible to gain any information from him. He was either stupid in reality, or pretended to be so. The latter supposition is not improbable, for many of the interpreters furnished to the men-of-war on that coast were found to be favourable to the slavers, insomuch that they have been known to mislead those whom they were paid to serve. With great difficulty the cutter was pulled through the surf. That afternoon the `Firefly' hove in sight, and took the rescued slaves on board. Next day two boats from the steamer chased another dhow on shore, but with even less result than before, for the whole of the slaves escaped to the hills. On the day following, however, a large dhow was captured, with about a hundred and fifty slaves on board, all of whom were rescued, and the dhow destroyed. The dhows which were thus chased or captured were all regular and undisguised slavers. Their owners were openly engaged in what they knew was held to be piracy alike by the Portuguese, the Sultan of Zanzibar, and the English. They were exporting slaves from Africa to Arabia and Persia, which is an illegal species of traffic. In dealing with these, no difficulty was experienced except the difficulty of catching them. When caught, the dhows were invariably destroyed and the slaves set free--that is to say, carried to those ports where they might be set free with safety. But there were two other sorts of traffickers in the bodies and souls of human beings, who were much more difficult to deal with. There were, first the legal slave-traders, namely, the men who convey slaves by sea from one part of the Sultan of Zanzibar's dominions to another. This kind of slavery was prosecuted under the shelter of what we have already referred to as a domestic institution! It involved, as we have said before, brutality, injustice, cruelty, theft, murder, and extermination, but, being a domestic institution of Zanzibar, it was held to be _legal_, and the British Government have recognised and tolerated it by treaty for a considerable portion of this century! It is, however, but justice to ourselves to say, that our Government entered into the treaty with the view of checking, limiting, and mitigating the evils of the slave-trade. We have erred in recognising any form of slavery, no matter how humane our object was--one proof of which is that we have, by our interference, unintentionally increased the evils of slavery instead of abating them. It is worth while remarking here, that slavery is also a domestic institution in Arabia and Persia. If it be right that we should not interfere with the Zanzibar institution, why should we interfere with that of Arabia or Persia? Our treaty appears to have been founded on the principle that we ought to respect domestic institutions. We maintain a squadron on the east coast of Africa to stop the flow of Africans to the latter countries, while we permit the flow by _treaty_, as well as by practice, to the former. Is this consistent? The only difference between the two cases is one of distance, not of principle. But to return to our point--the legal traders. In consequence of the Sultan's dominions lying partly on an island and partly on the mainland, his domestic institution necessitates boats, and in order to distinguish between his boats and the pirates, there is a particular season fixed in which he may carry his slaves by sea from one part of his dominions to another; and each boat is furnished with papers which prove it to be a "legal trader." This is the point on which the grand fallacy of _our_ interference hinges. The "domestic institution" would be amply supplied by about 4000 slaves a year. The so-called legal traders are simply legalised deceivers, who transport not fewer than 30,000 slaves a year! It must be borne in mind that these 30,000 represent only a portion--the Zanzibar portion--of the great African slave-trade. From the Portuguese settlements to the south, and from the north by way of Egypt, the export of negroes as slaves is larger. It is estimated that the total number of human beings enslaved on the east and north-east coast of Africa is about 70,000 a year. As all authorities agree in the statement that, at the _lowest_ estimate, only _one_ out of every five captured survives to go into slavery, this number represents a loss to Africa of 350,000 human beings a year. They leave Zanzibar with full cargoes continually, with far more than is required for what we may term home-consumption. Nevertheless, correct papers are furnished to them by the Sultan, which protects them from British cruisers within the prescribed limits, namely, between Cape Dalgado and Lamoo, a line of coast about 1500 miles in extent. But it is easy for them to evade the cruisers in these wide seas and extensive coasts, and the value of Black Ivory is so great that the loss of a few is but a small matter. On reaching the northern limits the legal traders become pirates. They run to the northward, and take their chance of being captured by cruisers. The reason of all this is very obvious. The Sultan receives nearly half a sovereign a head for each slave imported into Zanzibar, and our Governments, in time past, have allowed themselves to entertain the belief, that, by treaty, the Sultan could be induced to destroy this the chief source of his revenue! Surely it is not too much to say, that _Great Britain ought to enter into no treaty whatever in regard to slavery, excepting such as shall provide for the absolute, total, and immediate extirpation thereof by whatsoever name called_. Besides these two classes of slavers,--the open, professional pirates, and the sneaking, deceiving "domestic" slavers,--there are the slave-smugglers. They are men who profess to be, and actually are, legal traders in ivory, gum, copal, and other produce of Africa. These fellows manage to smuggle two or three slaves each voyage to the Black Ivory markets, under pretence that they form part of the crew of their dhows. It is exceedingly difficult, almost impossible, for the officers of our cruisers to convict these smugglers--to distinguish between slaves and crews, consequently immense numbers of slaves are carried off to the northern ports in this manner. Sometimes these dhows carry Arab or other passengers, and when there are so many slaves on board that it would be obviously absurd to pretend that they formed part of the crew, the owner dresses the poor wretches up in the habiliments that come most readily to hand, and passes them off as the wives or servants of these passengers. Any one might see at a glance that the stupid, silent, timid-looking creatures, who have had almost every human element beaten out of them, are nothing of the sort, but there is no means of _proving_ them other than they are represented to be. If an interpreter were to ask them they would be ready to swear anything that their owner had commanded; hence the cruisers are deceived in every way--in many ways besides those now mentioned--and our philanthropic intentions are utterly thwarted; for the rescuing and setting free of 1000 or 2000 negroes a year out of the 30,000 annually exported, is not an adequate result for our great expense in keeping a squadron on the coast, especially when we consider that hundreds, probably thousands, of slaves perish amid horrible sufferings caused by the efforts of the man-stealers to avoid our cruisers. These would probably not lose their lives, and the entire body of slaves would suffer less, if we did not interfere at all. From this we do not argue that non-interference would be best, but that as our present system of repression does not effectively accomplish what is aimed at, it ought to be changed. What the change should be, many wise and able men have stated. Their opinion we cannot quote here, but one thing taught to us by past experience is clear, we cannot cure the slave-trade by merely limiting it. Our motto in regard to slavery ought to be--_Total and immediate extinction everywhere_. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. STRONG MEASURES LEAD TO UNEXPECTED DISCOVERIES. "I'm terribly worried and perplexed," said Lieutenant Lindsay one afternoon to Midshipman Midgley, as they were creeping along the coast in the neighbourhood of Cape Dalgado. "Why so?" inquired the middy. "Because I can learn nothing whatever about the movements of Marizano," replied the Lieutenant. "I have not spoken to you about this man hitherto, because--because--that is to say--the fact is, it wasn't worth while, seeing that you know no more about him than I do, perhaps not so much. But I can't help thinking that we might have learned something about him by this time, only our interpreter is such an unmitigated ass, he seems to understand nothing--to pick up nothing." "Indeed!" exclaimed the midshipman; "I'm surprised to hear you say so, because I heard Suliman whispering last night with that half-caste fellow whom we captured along with the other niggers, and I am confident that he mentioned the name of Marizano several times." "Did he? Well now, the rascal invariably looks quite blank when I mention Marizano's name, and shakes his head, as if he had never heard of it before." "Couldn't you intimidate him into disgorging a little of his knowledge?" suggested Midgley, with an arch look. "I have thought of that," replied Lindsay, with a frown. "Come, it's not a bad idea; I'll try! Hallo! Suliman, come aft, I want you." Lieutenant Lindsay was one of those men who are apt to surprise people by the precipitancy of their actions. He was not, indeed, hasty; but when his mind was made up he was not slow in proceeding to action. It was so on the present occasion, to the consternation of Suliman, who had hitherto conceived him to be rather a soft easy-going man. "Suliman," he said, in a low but remarkably firm tone of voice, "you know more about Marizano than you choose to tell me. Now," he continued, gazing into the Arab's cold grey eyes, while he pulled a revolver from his coat-pocket and cocked it, "I intend to make you tell me all you know about him, or to blow your brains out." He moved the pistol gently as he spoke, and placed his forefinger on the trigger. "I not know," began Suliman, who evidently did not believe him to be quite in earnest; but before the words had well left his lips the drum of his left ear was almost split by the report of the pistol, and a part of his turban was blown away. "You don't know? very well," said Lindsay, recocking the pistol, and placing the cold muzzle of it against the Arab's yellow nose. This was too much for Suliman. He grew pale, and suddenly fell on his knees. "Oh! stop! no--no! not fire! me tell you 'bout 'im." "Good, get up and do so," said the Lieutenant, uncocking the revolver, and returning it to his pocket; "and be sure that you tell me all, else your life won't be worth the value of the damaged turban on your head." With a good deal of trepidation the alarmed interpreter thereupon gave Lindsay all the information he possessed in regard to the slaver, which amounted to this, that he had gone to Kilwa, where he had collected a band of slaves sufficient to fill a large dhow, with which he intended, in two days more, to sail, in company with a fleet of slavers, for the north. "Does he intend to touch at Zanzibar?" inquired Lindsay. "Me tink no," replied the interpreter; "got many pritty garls--go straight for Persia." On hearing this the Lieutenant put the cutter about, and sailed out to sea in search of the `Firefly,' which he knew could not at that time be at any great distance from the shore. He found her sooner than he had expected; and, to his immense astonishment as well as joy, one of the first persons he beheld on stepping over the side of his ship was Azinte. "You have captured Marizano, sir, I see," he said to Captain Romer. "Not the scoundrel himself, but one of his dhows," replied the Captain. "He had started for the northern ports with two heavily-laden vessels. We discovered him five days ago, and, fortunately, just beyond the protected water, so that he was a fair and lawful prize. The first of his dhows, being farthest out from shore, we captured, but the other, commanded by himself, succeeded in running ashore, and he escaped; with nearly all his slaves--only a few of the women and children being drowned in the surf. And now, as our cargo of poor wretches is pretty large, I shall run for the Seychelles. After landing them I shall return as fast as possible, to intercept a few more of these pirates." "To the Seychelles!" muttered the Lieutenant to himself as he went below, with an expression on his countenance something between surprise and despair. Poor Lindsay! His mind was so taken up with, and confused by, the constant and obtrusive presence of the Senhorina Maraquita that the particular turn which affairs had taken had not occurred to him, although that turn was quite natural, and by no means improbable. Marizano, with Azinte on board of one of his piratical dhows, was proceeding to the north. Captain Romer, with his war-steamer, was on the look-out for piratical dhows. What more natural than that the Captain should fall in with the pirate? But Lieutenant Lindsay's mind had been so filled with Maraquita that it seemed to be, for the time, incapable of holding more than one other idea--that idea was the fulfilment of Maraquita's commands to obtain information as to her lost Azinte. To this he had of late devoted all his powers, happy in the thought that it fell in with and formed part of his duty, to his Queen and country, as well as to the "Queen of his soul." To rescue Azinte from Marizano seemed to the bold Lieutenant an easy enough matter; but to rescue her from his own Captain, and send her back into slavery! "Ass! that I am," he exclaimed, "not to have thought of this before. Of course she can _never_ be returned to Maraquita, and small comfort it will be to the Senhorina to be told that her favourite is free in the Seychelles Islands, and utterly beyond her reach, unless she chooses to go there and stay with her." Overwhelmed with disgust at his own stupidity, and at the utter impossibility of doing anything to mend matters, the unfortunate Lieutenant sat down to think, and the result of his thinking was that he resolved at all events to look well after Azinte, and see that she should be cared for on her arrival at the Seychelles. Among the poor creatures who had been rescued from Marizano's dhow were nearly a hundred children, in such a deplorable condition that small hopes were entertained of their reaching the island alive. Their young lives, however, proved to be tenacious. Experienced though their hardy rescuers were in rough and tumble work, they had no conception what these poor creatures had already gone through, and, therefore, formed a mistaken estimate of their powers of endurance. Eighty-three of them reached the Seychelles alive. They were placed under the care of a warm-hearted missionary, who spared no pains for their restoration to health; but despite his utmost efforts, forty of these eventually died-- their little frames had been whipped, and starved, and tried to such an extent, that recovery was impossible. To the care of this missionary Lieutenant Lindsay committed Azinte, telling him as much of her sad story as he was acquainted with. The missionary willingly took charge of her, and placed her as a nurse in the temporary hospital which he had instituted for the little ones above referred to. Here Azinte proved herself to be a most tender, affectionate, and intelligent nurse to the poor children, for whom she appeared to entertain particular regard, and here, on the departure of the `Firefly' shortly afterwards, Lindsay left her in a state of comfort, usefulness, and comparative felicity. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. DESCRIBES SOME OF THE DOINGS OF YOOSOOF AND HIS MEN IN PROCURING BLACK IVORY FROM THE INTERIOR OF AFRICA. A dirty shop, in a filthy street in the unhealthy town of Zanzibar, is the point to which we now beg leave to conduct our reader--whom we also request to leap, in a free and easy way, over a few months of time! It is not for the sake of the shop that we make this leap, but for the purpose of introducing the two men who, at the time we write of, sat over their grog in a small back-room connected with that shop. Still the shop itself is not altogether unworthy of notice. It is what the Americans call a store--a place where you can purchase almost every article that the wants of man have called into being. The prevailing smells are of oil, sugar, tea, molasses, paint, and tar, a compound which confuses the discriminating powers of the nose, and, on the principle that extremes meet, removes the feeling of surprise that ought to be aroused by discovering that these odours are in close connexion with haberdashery and hardware. There are enormous casks, puncheons, and kegs on the floor; bales on the shelves; indescribable confusion in the corners; preserved meat tins piled to the ceiling; with dust and dirt encrusting everything. The walls, beams, and rafters, appear to be held together by means of innumerable cobwebs. Hosts of flies fatten on, without diminishing, the stock, and squadrons of cockroaches career over the earthen floor. In the little back-room of this shop sat the slave-dealer Yoosoof, in company with the captain of an English ship which lay in the harbour. Smoke from the captain's pipe filled the little den to such an extent that Yoosoof and his friend were not so clearly distinguishable as might have been desired. "You're all a set of false-hearted, wrong-headed, low-minded, scoundrels," said the plain-spoken captain, accompanying each asseveration with a puff so violent as to suggest the idea that his remarks were round-shot and his mouth a cannon. The Briton was evidently not in a complimentary mood. It was equally evident that Yoosoof was not in a touchy vein, for he smiled the slightest possible smile and shrugged his shoulders. He had business to transact with the captain which was likely to result very much to his advantage, and Yoosoof was not the man to let feelings stand in the way of business. "Moreover," pursued the captain, in a gruff voice, "the trade in slaves is illegally conducted in one sense, namely, that it is largely carried on by British subjects." "How you make that out?" asked Yoosoof. "How? why, easy enough. Aren't the richest men in Zanzibar the Banyans, and don't these Banyans, who number about 17,000 of your population, supply you Arabs with money to carry on the accursed slave-trade? And ain't these Banyans Indian merchants--subjects of Great Britain?" Yoosoof shrugged his shoulders again and smiled. "And don't these opulent rascals," continued the Briton, "love their ease as well as their money, and when they want to increase the latter without destroying the former, don't they make advances to the like of you and get 100 per cent out of you for every dollar advanced?" Yoosoof nodded his head decidedly at this, and smiled again. "Well, then, ain't the whole lot of you a set of mean scoundrels?" said the captain fiercely. Yoosoof did not smile at this; he even looked for a moment as if he were going to resent it, but it was only for a moment. Self-interest came opportunely to his aid, and made him submissive. "What can we do?" he asked after a short silence. "You knows what the Sultan say, other day, to one British officer, `If you stop slave-trade you will ruin Zanzibar.' We mus' not do that. Zanzibar mus' not be ruin." "Why not?" demanded the captain, with a look of supreme contempt, "what if Zanzibar _was_ ruined? Look here, now, Yoosoof, your dirty little island--the whole island observe--is not quite the size of my own Scotch county of Lanark. Its population is short of 250,000 all told--scarce equal to the half of the population of Lanark--composed of semi-barbarians and savages. That's one side of the question. Here's the other side: Africa is one of the four quarters of the earth, with millions of vigorous niggers and millions of acres of splendid land, and no end of undeveloped resources, and you have the impudence to tell me that an enormous lump of this land must be converted into a desert, and something like 150,000 of its best natives be drawn off _annually_--for what?--for what?" repeated the sailor, bringing his fist down on the table before him with such force that the glasses danced on it and the dust flew up; "for what? I say; for a paltry, pitiful island, ruled by a sham sultan, without army or navy, and with little money, save what he gets by slave-dealing; an island which has no influence for good on the world, morally, religiously, or socially, and with little commercially, though it has much influence for evil; an island which has helped the Portuguese to lock up the east coast of Africa for centuries; an island which would not be missed--save as a removed curse--if it were sunk this night to the bottom of the sea, and all its selfish, sensual, slave-dealing population swept entirely off the face of the earth." The captain had risen and dashed his pipe to atoms on the floor in his indignation as he made these observations. He now made an effort to control himself, and then, sitting down, he continued--"Just think, Yoosoof; you're a sharp man of business, as I know to my cost. You can understand a thing in a commercial point of view. Just try to look at it thus: On the one side of the world's account you have Zanzibar sunk with all its Banyan and Arab population; we won't sink the niggers, poor wretches. We'll suppose them saved, along with the consuls, missionaries, and such-like. Well, that's a loss of somewhere about 83,000 scoundrels,--a gain we might call it, but for the sake of argument we'll call it a loss. On the other side of the account you have 30,000 niggers--fair average specimens of humanity--saved from slavery, besides something like 150,000 more saved from death by war and starvation, the results of the slave-trade; 83,000 from 150,000 leaves 67,000! The loss, you see, would be more than wiped off, and a handsome balance left at the world's credit the very first year! To say nothing of the opening up of legitimate commerce to one of the richest countries on earth, and the consequent introduction of Christianity." The captain paused to take breath. Yoosoof shrugged his shoulders, and a brief silence ensued, which was happily broken, not by a recurrence to the question of slavery, but by the entrance of a slave. He came in search of Yoosoof for the purpose of telling him that his master wished to speak with him. As the slave's master was one of the wealthy Banyans just referred to, Yoosoof rose at once, and, apologising to the captain for quitting him so hurriedly, left that worthy son of Neptune to cool his indignation in solitude. Passing through several dirty streets the slave led the slaver to a better sort of house in a more salubrious or, rather, less pestilential, part of the town. He was ushered into the presence of an elderly man of quiet, unobtrusive aspect. "Yoosoof," said the Banyan in Arabic, "I have been considering the matter about which we had some conversation yesterday, and I find that it will be convenient for me to make a small venture. I can let you have three thousand dollars." "On the old terms?" asked Yoosoof. "On the old terms," replied the merchant. "Will you be ready to start soon?" Yoosoof said that he would, that he had already completed the greater part of his preparations, and that he hoped to start for the interior in a week or two. "That is well; I hope you may succeed in doing a good deal of business," said the merchant with an amiable nod and smile, which might have led an ignorant onlooker to imagine that Yoosoof's business in the interior was work of a purely philanthropic nature! "There is another affair, which, it has struck me, may lie in your way," continued the merchant. "The British consul is, I am told, anxious to find some one who will undertake to make inquiries in the interior about some Englishmen, who are said to have been captured by the black fellows and made slaves of." "Does the consul know what tribe has captured them?" asked Yoosoof. "I think not; but as he offers five hundred dollars for every lost white man who shall be recovered and brought to the coast alive, I thought that you might wish to aid him!" "True," said Yoosoof, musing, "true, I will go and see him." Accordingly, the slave-dealer had an interview with the consul, during which he learned that there was no absolute certainty of any Englishmen having been captured. It was only a vague rumour; nevertheless it was sufficiently probable to warrant the offer of five hundred dollars to any one who should effect a rescue; therefore Yoosoof, having occasion to travel into the interior at any rate, undertook to make inquiries. He was also told that two Englishmen had, not long before, purchased an outfit, and started off with the intention of proceeding to the interior by way of the Zambesi river, and they, the consul said, might possibly be heard of by him near the regions to which he was bound; but these, he suggested, could not be the men who were reported as missing. Of course Yoosoof had not the most remote idea that these were the very Englishmen whom he himself had captured on the coast, for, after parting from them abruptly, as described in a former chapter, he had ceased to care or think about them, and besides, was ignorant of the fact that they had been to Zanzibar. Yoosoof's own particular business required a rather imposing outfit. First of all, he purchased and packed about 600 pounds worth of beads of many colours, cloth of different kinds, thick brass wire, and a variety of cheap trinkets, such as black men and women are fond of, for Yoosoof was an "honest" trader, and paid his way when he found it suitable to do so. He likewise hired a hundred men, whom he armed with guns, powder, and ball, for Yoosoof was also a dishonest trader, and fought his way when that course seemed most desirable. With this imposing caravan he embarked in a large dhow, sailed for the coast landed at Kilwa, and proceeded into the interior of Africa. It was a long and toilsome journey over several hundred miles of exceedingly fertile and beautiful country, eminently suited for the happy abode of natives. But Yoosoof and his class who traded in black ivory had depopulated it to such an extent that scarce a human being was to be seen all the way. There were plenty of villages, but they were in ruins, and acres of cultivated ground with the weeds growing rank where the grain had once flourished. Further on in the journey, near the end of it, there was a change; the weeds and grain grew together and did battle, but in most places the weeds gained the victory. It was quite evident that the whole land had once been a rich garden teeming with human life--savage life, no doubt still, not so savage but that it could manage to exist in comparative enjoyment and multiply. Yoosoof--passed through a hundred and fifty miles of this land; it was a huge grave, which, appropriately enough, was profusely garnished with human bones. [See Livingstone's _Tributaries of the Zambesi_, page 391.] At last the slave-trader reached lands which were not utterly forsaken. Entering a village one afternoon he sent a present of cloth and beads to the chief, and, after a few preliminary ceremonies, announced that he wished to purchase slaves. The chief, who was a fine-looking young warrior, said that he had no men, women or children to sell, except a few criminals to whom he was welcome at a very low price,--about two or three yards of calico each. There were also one or two orphan children whose parents had died suddenly, and to whom no one in the village could lay claim. It was true that these poor orphans had been adopted by various families who might not wish to part with them; but no matter, the chief's command was law. Yoosoof might have the orphans also for a very small sum,--a yard of calico perhaps. But nothing would induce the chief to compel any of his people to part with their children, and none of the people seemed desirous of doing so. The slave-trader therefore adopted another plan. He soon managed to ascertain that the chief had an old grudge against a neighbouring chief. In the course of conversation he artfully stirred up the slumbering ill-will, and carefully fanned it into a flame without appearing to have any such end in view. When the iron was sufficiently hot he struck it-- supplied the chief with guns and ammunition, and even, as a great favour, offered to lend him a few of his own men in order that he might make a vigorous attack on his old enemy. The device succeeded to perfection. War was begun without any previous declaration; prisoners were soon brought in--not only men, but women and children. The first were coupled together with heavy slave-sticks, which were riveted to their necks; the latter were attached to each other with ropes; and thus Yoosoof, in a few days, was enabled to proceed on his journey with a goodly drove of "black cattle" behind him. This occurred not far from Lake Nyassa, which he intended should be his headquarters for a time, while his men, under a new leader whom he expected to meet there, should push their victorious arms farther into the interior. On reaching the shores of the noble lake, he found several birds of the same feather with himself--Arabs engaged in the same trade. He also found his old friend and trusty ally, Marizano. This gratified him much, for he was at once enabled to hand over the charge of the expedition to his lieutenant, and send him forth on his mission. That same evening--a lovely and comparatively cool one--Yoosoof and the half-caste sauntered on the margin of the lake, listening to the sweet melody of the free and happy birds, and watching the debarkation, from a large boat, of a band of miserable slaves who had been captured or purchased on the other side. "Now, Marizano," said Yoosoof, addressing the half-caste in his native tongue, "I do not intend to cumber you with cloth or beads on this expedition. I have already spent a good deal in the purchase of slaves, who are now in my barracoon, and I think it will be both cheaper and easier to make up the rest of the gang by means of powder and lead." "It is lighter to carry, and more effectual," remarked Marizano, with a nod of approval. "True," returned Yoosoof, "and quicker. Will a hundred men and guns suffice?" "Eighty are enough to conquer any of the bow and spear tribes of this region," replied the half-caste carelessly. "Good!" continued Yoosoof. "Then you shall start to-morrow. The tribes beyond this lake are not yet afraid of us--thanks to the mad Englishman, Livingstone, who has opened up the country and spread the information that white men are the friends of the black, and hate slavery." [Livingstone tells us that he found, on ascending the Shire river, that the Portuguese slave-traders had followed closely in the footsteps of his previous discoveries, and passed themselves off as his friends, by which means they were successful in gaining the confidence of the natives whom they afterwards treacherously murdered or enslaved.] "You may try to pass yourself off as a white man, though your face is not so white as might be desired; however, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that it is whiter than your heart!" The Arab smiled and glanced at his lieutenant. Marizano smiled, bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment, and replied that he believed himself to be second to no one except his employer in that respect. "Well, then," continued Yoosoof, "you must follow up the discoveries of this Englishman; give out that you are his friend, and have come there for the same purposes; and, when you have put them quite at their ease, commence a brisk trade with them--for which purpose you may take with you just enough of cloth and beads to enable you to carry out the deception. For the rest I need not instruct; you know what to do as well as I." Marizano approved heartily of this plan, and assured his chief that his views should be carried out to his entire satisfaction. "But there is still another point," said Yoosoof, "on which I have to talk. It appears that there are some white men who have been taken prisoners by one of the interior tribes--I know not which--for the finding of whom the British consul at Zanzibar has offered me five hundred dollars. If you can obtain information about these men it will be well. If you can find and rescue them it will be still better, and you shall have a liberal share of the reward." While the Arab was speaking, the half-caste's visage betrayed a slight degree of surprise. "White men!" he said, pulling up his sleeve and showing a gun-shot wound in his arm which appeared to be not very old. "A white man inflicted that not long ago, and not very far from the spot on which we stand. I had vowed to take the life of that white man if we should ever chance to meet, but if it is worth five hundred dollars I may be tempted to spare it!" He laughed lightly as he spoke, and then added, with a thoughtful look,--"But I don't see how these men--there were two of them, if not more--can be prisoners, because, when I came across them, they were well-armed, well supplied, and well attended, else, you may be sure, they had not given me this wound and freed my slaves. But the scoundrels who were with me at the time were cowards." "You are right," said Yoosoof. "The white men you met I heard of at Zanzibar. They cannot be the prisoners we are asked to search for. They have not yet been long enough away, I should think, to have come by any mischance, and the white men who are said to be lost have been talked about in Zanzibar for a long time. However, make diligent inquiries, because the promise is, that the five hundred dollars shall be ours if we rescue _any_ white man, no matter who he may chance to be. And now I shall show you the cattle I have obtained on the way up." The barracoon, to which the Arab led his lieutenant, was a space enclosed by a strong and high stockade, in which slaves were kept under guard until a sufficient number should be secured to form a gang, wherewith to start for the coast. At the entrance stood a savage-looking Portuguese half-caste armed with a gun. Inside there was an assortment of Yoosoof's Black Ivory. It was in comparatively good condition at that time, not having travelled far, and, as it was necessary to keep it up to a point of strength sufficient to enable it to reach the coast, it was pretty well fed except in the case of a few rebellious articles. There were, however, specimens of damaged goods even there. Several of the orphans, who had become Yoosoof's property, although sprightly enough when first purchased, had not stood even the short journey to the lake so well as might have been expected. They had fallen off in flesh to such an extent that Yoosoof was induced to remark to Marizano, as they stood surveying them, that he feared they would never reach the coast alive. "That one, now," he said, pointing to a little boy who was tightly wedged in the midst of the group of slaves, and sat on the ground with his face resting on his knees, "is the most troublesome piece of goods I have had to do with since I began business; and it seems to me that I am going to lose him after all." "What's the matter with him?" asked the half-caste. "Nothing particular, only he is a delicate boy. At first I refused him, but he is so well-made, though delicate, and such a good-looking child, and so spirited, that I decided to take him; but he turns out to be _too_ spirited. Nothing that I can do will tame him,--oh, _that_ won't do it," said Yoosoof, observing that Marizano raised the switch he carried in his hand with a significant action; "I have beaten him till there is scarcely a sound inch of skin on his whole body, but it's of no use. Ho! stand up," called Yoosoof, letting the lash of his whip fall lightly on the boy's shoulders. There was, however, no response; the Arab therefore repeated the order, and laid the lash across the child's bare back with a degree of force that would have caused the stoutest man to wince; still the boy did not move. Somewhat surprised, Yoosoof pushed his way towards him, seized him by the hair and threw back his head. The Arab left him immediately and remarked in a quiet tone that he should have no more trouble with him--he was dead! "What's the matter with that fellow?" asked Marizano, pointing to a man who was employed in constantly rolling up a bit of wet clay and applying it to his left eye. "Ah, he's another of these unmanageable fellows," replied Yoosoof. "I have been trying to tame _him_ by starvation. The other morning he fell on his knees before the man who guards the barracoon and entreated him to give him food. The guard is a rough fellow, and had been put out of temper lately by a good many of the slaves. Instead of giving him food he gave him a blow in the eye which burst the ball of it, and of course has rendered him worthless; but _he_ won't trouble us long." In another place a woman crouched on the ground, having something wrapped in leaves which she pressed to her dried breast. It was the body of a child to which she had recently given birth in that place of woe. Leaving his cringing and terrified goods to the guardian of the barracoon, the Arab returned to his tent beside the beautiful lake, and there, while enjoying the aroma of flowers and the cool breeze, and the genial sunshine, and the pleasant influences which God has scattered with bountiful hand over that luxuriant portion of the earth, calmly concerted with Marizano the best method by which he could bring inconceivable misery on thousands of its wretched inhabitants. CHAPTER NINETEEN. TELLS OF MISFORTUNES THAT BEFELL OUR WANDERERS; OF FAMILIAR TOYS UNDER NEW ASPECTS, ETCETERA. When Harold Seadrift and Disco Lillihammer were stopped in their journey, as related in a former chapter, by the sudden illness of the bold seaman, an event was impending over them which effectually overturned their plans. This was the sudden descent of a band of armed natives who had been recently driven from their homes by a slaving party. The slavers had taken them by surprise during the night, set their huts on fire, captured their women and children, and slaughtered all the men, excepting those who sought and found safety in flight. It was those who had thus escaped that chanced to come upon the camp of our travellers one evening about sunset. Disco was recovering from his attack of fever at the time, though still weak. Harold was sitting by his couch of leaves in the hut which had been erected for him on the first day of the illness. Jumbo was cutting up a piece of flesh for supper, and Antonio was putting the kettle on the fire. The rest of the party were away in the woods hunting. No guard was kept; consequently the savages came down on them like a thunderbolt, and found them quite unprepared to resist even if resistance had been of any use. At first their captors, bitterly infuriated by their recent losses, proposed to kill their prisoners, without delay, by means of the most excruciating tortures that they could invent, but from some unknown cause, changed their minds; coupled Harold and Disco together by means of two slave-sticks; tied Antonio and Jumbo with ropes, and drove them away. So suddenly was the thing done, and so effectually, that Disco was far from the camp before he could realise that what had occurred was a fact, and not one of the wild feverish dreams that had beset him during his illness. The natives would not listen to the earnest explanation of Antonio that Harold and Disco were Englishmen, and haters of slavery. They scowled as they replied that the same had been said by the slavers who had attacked their village; from which remark it would seem that Yoosoof was not quite the originator of that device to throw the natives off their guard. The Portuguese of Tette on the Zambesi had also thought of and acted on it! Fortunately it was, as we have said, near sunset when the capture was made, and before it became quite dark the band encamped, else must poor Disco have succumbed to weakness and fatigue. The very desperation of his circumstances, however, seemed to revive his strength, for next morning he resumed his journey with some hope of being able to hold out. The continued protestations and assurances of Antonio, also, had the effect of inducing their captors to remove the heavy slave-sticks from the necks of Harold and Disco, though they did not unbind their wrists. Thus were they led further into the country, they knew not whither, for several days and nights, and at last reached a large village where they were all thrust into a hut, and left to their meditations, while their captors went to palaver with the chief man of the place. This chief proved to be a further-sighted man than the men of the tribe who had captured the Englishmen. His name was Yambo. He had heard of Dr Livingstone, and had met with men of other tribes who had seen and conversed with the great traveller. Thus, being of a thoughtful and inquiring disposition, he had come to understand enough of the good white man's sentiments to guard him from being imposed on by pretended Christians. Yambo's name signified "how are you?" and was probably bestowed on him because of a strongly benevolent tendency to greet friend and stranger alike with a hearty "how d'ee do?" sort of expression of face and tone of voice. He was a tall grave man, with a commanding firm look, and, withal, a dash of child-like humour and simplicity. On hearing his visitors' remarks about their captives, he at once paid them a visit and a few leading questions put to Harold through Antonio convinced him that the prisoners were true men. He therefore returned to his black visitors, told them that he had perfect confidence in the good faith of the white men, and said that he meant to take charge of them. He then entertained his black brothers hospitably, gave them a few presents, and sent them on their way. This done he returned to his guests and told them that they were free, that their captors were gone, and that they might go where they pleased, but that it would gratify him much if they would consent to spend some time hunting with him in the neighbourhood of his village. "Now," said Disco, after Yambo left them, "this is wot I call the most uncommon fix that ever wos got into by man since Adam an' Eve began housekeepin' in the garden of Eden." "I'm not quite sure," replied Harold, with a rueful look, "that it is absolutely the _worst_ fix, but it is bad enough. The worst of it is that this Yambo has let these rascals off with all our fire-arms and camp-equipage, so that we are absolutely helpless--might as well be prisoners, for we can't quit this village in such circumstances." "Wot's wuss than that to my mind, sir, is, that here we are at sea, in the heart of Afriky, without chart, quadrant, compass, or rudder, an' no more idea of our whereabouts than one o' them spider monkeys that grins among the trees. Hows'ever, we're in luck to fall into the hands of a friendly chief, so, like these same monkeys, we must grin an' bear it; only I can't help feelin' a bit cast down at the loss of our messmates. I fear there's no chance of their findin' us." "Not the least chance in the world, I should say," returned Harold. "They could not guess in which direction we had gone, and unless they had hit on the right road at first, every step they took afterwards would only widen the distance between us." "It's lucky I was beginnin' to mend before we was catched," said Disco, feeling the muscles of his legs; "true, I ain't much to boast of yet but I'm improvin'." "That is more than I can say for myself," returned Harold, with a sigh, as he passed his hand across his forehead; "I feel as if this last push through the woods in the hot sun, and the weight of that terrible slave-stick had been almost too much for me." Disco looked earnestly and anxiously into the face of his friend. "Wot," asked he, "does you feel?" "I can scarcely tell," replied Harold, with a faint smile. "Oh, I suppose I'm a little knocked up, that's all. A night's rest will put me all right." "So I thought myself, but I wos wrong," said Disco. "Let's hear wot your feelin's is, sir; I'm as good as any doctor now, I am, in regard to symptoms." "Well, I feel a sort of all-overishness, a kind of lassitude and sleepiness, with a slight headache, and a dull pain which appears to be creeping up my spine." "You're in for it sir," said Disco. "It's lucky you have always carried the physic in your pockets, 'cause you'll need it, an' it's lucky, too, that I am here and well enough to return tit for tat and nurse you, 'cause you'll have that 'ere pain in your spine creep up your back and round your ribs till it lays hold of yer shoulders, where it'll stick as if it had made up its mind to stay there for ever an' a day. Arter that you'll get cold an' shivering like ice--oh! doesn't I know it well--an' then hot as fire, with heavy head, an' swimming eyes, an' twisted sight, an' confusion of--" "Hold! hold!" cried Harold, laughing, "if you go on in that way I shall have more than my fair share of it! Pray stop, and leave me a little to find out for myself." "Well, sir, take a purge, and turn in at once, that's my advice. I'll dose you with quinine to-morrow mornin', first thing," said Disco, rising and proceeding forthwith to arrange a couch in a corner of the hut, which Yambo had assigned them. Harold knew well enough that his follower was right. He took his advice without delay, and next morning found himself little better than a child, both physically and mentally, for the disease not only prostrated his great strength--as it had that of his equally robust companion--but, at a certain stage, induced delirium, during which he talked the most ineffable nonsense that his tongue could pronounce, or his brain conceive. Poor Disco, who, of course, had been unable to appreciate the extent of his own delirious condition, began to fear that his leader's mind was gone for ever, and Jumbo was so depressed by the unutterably solemn expression of the mariner's once jovial countenance, that he did not once show his teeth for a whole week, save when engaged with meals. As for Antonio, his nature not being very sympathetic, and his health being good, he rather enjoyed the quiet life and good living which characterised the native village, and secretly hoped that Harold might remain on the sick-list for a considerable time to come. How long this state of affairs lasted we cannot tell, for both Harold and Disco lost the correct record of time during their respective illnesses. Up to that period they had remembered the days of the week, in consequence of their habit of refraining from going out to hunt on Sundays, except when a dearth of meat in the larder rendered hunting a necessity. Upon these Sundays Harold's conscience sometimes reproached him for having set out on his journey into Africa without a Bible. He whispered, to himself at first, and afterwards suggested to Disco, the excuse that his Bible had been lost in the wreck of his father's vessel, and that, perhaps, there were no Bibles to be purchased in Zanzibar, but his conscience was a troublesome one, and refused to tolerate such bad reasoning, reminding him, reproachfully, that he had made no effort whatever to obtain a Bible at Zanzibar. As time had passed, and some of the horrors of the slave-trade had been brought under his notice, many of the words of Scripture leaped to his remembrance, and the regret that he had not carried a copy with him increased. That touch of thoughtlessness, so natural to the young and healthy--to whom life has so far been only a garden of roses--was utterly routed by the stern and dreadful realities which had been recently enacted around him, and just in proportion as he was impressed with the lies, tyranny, cruelty, and falsehood of man, so did his thoughtful regard for the truth and the love of God increase, especially those truths that were most directly opposed to the traffic in human flesh, such as--"love your enemies," "seek peace with all men," "be kindly affectioned one to another," "whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them." An absolute infidel, he thought, could not fail to perceive that a most blessed change would come over the face of Africa if such principles prevailed among its inhabitants, even in an extremely moderate degree. But to return, the unfortunate travellers were now "at sea" altogether in regard to the Sabbath as well as the day of the month. Indeed their minds were not very clear as to the month itself! "Hows'ever," said Disco, when this subject afterwards came to be discussed, "it don't matter much. Wot is it that the Scriptur' says,--`Six days shalt thou labour an' do all that thou hast to do, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God. In it thou shalt do no work.' I wos used always to stick at that pint w'en my poor mother was a-teachin' of me. Never got past it. But it's enough for present use anyhow, for the orders is, work six days an' don't work the seventh. Werry good, we'll begin to-day an' call it Monday; we'll work for six days, an' w'en the seventh day comes we'll call it Sunday. If it ain't the right day, _we_ can't help it; moreover, wot's the odds? It's the _seventh_ day, so that to us it'll be the Sabbath." But we anticipate. Harold was still--at the beginning of this digression--in the delirium of fever, though there were symptoms of improvement about him. One afternoon one of these symptoms was strongly manifested in a long, profound slumber. While he slept Disco sat on a low stool beside him, busily engaged with a clasp-knife on some species of manufacture, the nature of which was not apparent at a glance. His admirer, Jumbo, was seated on a stool opposite, gazing at him open-mouthed, with a countenance that reflected every passing feeling of his dusky bosom. Both men were so deeply absorbed in their occupation--Disco in his manufacture, and Jumbo in staring at Disco--that they failed for a considerable time to observe that Harold had wakened suddenly, though quietly, and was gazing at them with a look of lazy, easy-going surprise. The mariner kept up a running commentary on his work, addressed to Jumbo indeed, but in a quiet interjectional manner that seemed to imply that he was merely soliloquising, and did not want or expect a reply. "It's the most 'stror'nary notion, Jumbo, between you and me and the post, that I ever did see. Now, then, this here bullet-head wants a pair o' eyes an' a nose on it; the mouth'll do, but it's the mouth as is most troublesome, for you niggers have got such wappin' muzzles--it's quite a caution, as the Yankees say,"--(a pause)--"on the whole, however, the nose is very difficult to manage on a flat surface, 'cause w'y?--if I leaves it quite flat, it don't look like a nose, an' if I carves it out ever so little, it's too prominent for a nigger nose. There, ain't that a good head, Jumbo?" Thus directly appealed to, Jumbo nodded his own head violently, and showed his magnificent teeth from ear to ear, gums included. Disco laid down the flat piece of board which he had carved into the form of a human head, and took up another piece, which was rudely blocked out into the form of a human leg--both leg and head being as large as life. "Now this limb, Jumbo," continued Disco, slowly, as he whittled away with the clasp-knife vigorously, "is much more troublesome than I would have expected; for you niggers have got such abominably ill-shaped legs below the knee. There's such an unnat'ral bend for'ard o' the shin-bone, an' such a rediklous sticking out o' the heel astarn, d'ee see, that a feller with white man notions has to make a study of it, if he sets up for a artist; in course, if he _don't_ set up for a artist any sort o' shape'll do, for it don't affect the jumpin'. Ha! there they go," he exclaimed, with a humorous smile at a hearty shout of laughter which was heard just outside the hut, "enjoyin' the old 'un; but it's nothin' to wot the noo 'un'll be w'en it's finished." At this exhibition of amusement on the countenance of his friend, Jumbo threw back his head and again showed not only his teeth and gums but the entire inside of his mouth, and chuckled softly from the region of his breast-bone. "I'm dreaming, of course," thought Harold, and shut his eyes. Poor fellow! he was very weak, and the mere act of shutting his eyes induced a half-slumber. He awoke again in a few minutes, and re-opening his eyes, beheld the two men still sitting, and occupied as before. "It is a wonderfully pertinacious dream," thought Harold. "I'll try to dissipate it." Thinking thus, he called out aloud,--"I say, Disco!" "Hallo! that's uncommon like the old tones," exclaimed the seaman, dropping his knife and the leg of wood as he looked anxiously at his friend. "What old tones?" asked Harold. "The tones of your voice," said Disco. "Have they changed so much of late?" inquired Harold in surprise. "Have they? I should think they have, just. W'y, you haven't spoke like that, sir, for--but, surely--are you better, or is this on'y another dodge o' yer madness?" asked Disco with a troubled look. "Ah! I suppose I've been delirious, have I?" said Harold with a faint smile. To this Disco replied that he had not only been delirious, but stark staring mad, and expressed a very earnest hope that, now he had got his senses hauled taut again, he'd belay them an' make all fast for, if he didn't, it was his, Disco's opinion, that another breeze o' the same kind would blow 'em all to ribbons. "Moreover," continued Disco, firmly, "you're not to talk. I once nursed a messmate through a fever, an' I remember that the doctor wos werry partikler w'en he began to come round, in orderin' him to hold his tongue an' keep quiet." "You are right Disco. I will keep quiet, but you must first tell me what you are about, for it has roused my curiosity, and I can't rest till I know." "Well, sir, I'll tell you, but don't go for to make no obsarvations on it. Just keep your mouth shut an' yer ears open, an' I'll do all the jawin'. Well, you must know, soon after you wos took bad, I felt as if I'd like some sort o' okipation w'en sittin' here watchin' of you--Jumbo an' me's bin takin' the watch time about, for Antony isn't able to hold a boy, much less _you_ w'en you gits obstropolous--Well, sir, I had took a sort o' fancy for Yambo's youngest boy, for he's a fine, brave little shaver, he is, an' I thought I'd make him some sort o' toy, an' it struck me that the thing as 'ud please him most 'ud be a jumpin'-jack, so I set to an' made him one about a futt high. "You never see such a face o' joy as that youngster put on, sir, w'en I took it to him an' pulled the string. He give a little squeak of delight he did, tuk it in his hands, an' ran home to show it to his mother. Well, sir, wot d'ee think, the poor boy come back soon after, blubberin' an' sobbin', as nat'ral as if he'd bin an English boy, an' says he to Tony, says he, `Father's bin an' took it away from me!' I wos surprised at this, an' went right off to see about it, an' w'en I come to Yambo's hut wot does I see but the chief pullin' the string o' the jumpin'-jack, an' grinnin' an' sniggerin' like a blue-faced baboon in a passion--his wife likewise standin' by holdin' her sides wi' laughin'. Well, sir, the moment I goes in, up gits the chief an' shouts for Tony, an' tells him to tell me that I must make him a jumpin'-jack! In course I says I'd do it with all the pleasure in life; and he says that I must make it full size, as big as hisself! I opened my eyes at this, but he said he must have a thing that was fit for a man--a chief-- so there was nothin' for it but to set to work. An' it worn't difficult to manage neither, for they supplied me with slabs o' timber an inch thick an' I soon blocked out the body an' limbs with a hatchet an' polished 'em off with my knife, and then put 'em together. W'en the big jack wos all right Yambo took it away, for he'd watched me all the time I wos at it, an' fixed it up to the branch of a tree an' set to work. "I never, no I never, did," continued Disco, slapping his right thigh, while Jumbo grinned in sympathy, "see sitch a big baby as Yambo became w'en he got that monstrous jumpin'-jack into action--with his courtiers all round him, their faces blazin' with surprise, or conwulsed wi' laughter. The chief hisself was too hard at work to laugh much. He could only glare an' grin, for, big an' strong though he is, the jack wos so awful heavy that it took all his weight an' muscle haulin' on the rope which okipied the place o' the string that we're used to. "`Haul away, my hearty,' thought I, w'en I seed him heavin', blowin', an' swettin' at the jack's halyards, `you'll not break that rope in a hurry.' "But I was wrong, sir, for, although the halyards held on all right, I had not calkilated on such wiolent action at the joints. All of a sudden off comes a leg at the knee. It was goin' the up'ard kick at the time, an' went up like a rocket, slap through a troop o' monkeys that was lookin' on aloft, which it scattered like foam in a gale. Yambo didn't seem to care a pinch o' snuff. His blood was up. The sweat was runnin' off him like rain. `Hi!' cries he, givin' another most awful tug. But it wasn't high that time, for the other leg came off at the hip-jint on the down kick, an' went straight into the buzzum of a black warrior an' floored him wuss than he ever wos floored since he took to fightin'. Yambo didn't care for that either. He gave another haul with all his might, which proved too much for jack without his legs, for it threw his arms out with such force that they jammed hard an' fast, as if the poor critter was howlin' for mercy! "Yambo looked awful blank at this. Then he turned sharp round and looked at me for all the world as if he meant to say `wot d'ee mean by that? eh!' "`He shouldn't ought to lick into him like that,' says I to Tony, `the figure ain't made to be druv by a six-horse power steam-engine! But tell him I'll fix it up with jints that'll stand pullin' by an elephant, and I'll make him another jack to the full as big as that one an' twice as strong.' "This," added Disco in conclusion, taking up the head on which he had been engaged, "is the noo jack. The old un's outside working away at this moment like a win'-mill. Listen; don't 'ee hear 'em?" Harold listened and found no difficulty in hearing them, for peals of laughter and shrieks of delight burst forth every few minutes, apparently from a vast crowd outside the hut. "I do believe," said Disco, rising and going towards the door of the hut "that you can see 'em from where you lay." He drew aside the skin doorway as he spoke, and there, sure enough, was the gigantic jumping-jack hanging from the limb of a tree, clearly defined against the sky, and galvanically kicking about its vast limbs, with Yambo pulling fiercely at the tail, and the entire tribe looking on steeped in ecstasy and admiration. It may easily be believed that the sight of this, coupled with Disco's narrative, was almost too much for Harold's nerves, and for some time he exhibited, to Disco's horror, a tendency to repeat some antics which would have been much more appropriate to the jumping-jack, but, after a warm drink administered by his faithful though rough nurse, he became composed, and finally dropped into a pleasant sleep, which was not broken till late the following morning. Refreshed in body, happy in mind, and thankful in spirit he rose to feel that the illness against which he had fought for many days was conquered, and that, although still very weak, he had fairly turned the corner, and had begun to regain some of his wonted health and vigour. CHAPTER TWENTY. HAROLD APPEARS IN A NEW CHARACTER, AND TWO OLD CHARACTERS REAPPEAR TO HAROLD. The mind of Yambo was a strange compound--a curious mixture of gravity and rollicking joviality; at one time displaying a phase of intense solemnity; at another exhibiting quiet pleasantry and humour, but earnestness was the prevailing trait of his character. Whether indulging his passionate fondness for the jumping-jack, or engaged in guiding the deliberations of his counsellors, the earnest chief was equally devoted to the work in hand. Being a savage--and, consequently, led entirely by feeling, which is perhaps the chief characteristic of savage, as distinguished from civilised, man,--he hated his enemies with exceeding bitterness, and loved his friends with all his heart. Yambo was very tender to Harold during his illness, and the latter felt corresponding gratitude, so that there sprang up between the two a closer friendship than one could have supposed to be possible, considering that they were so different from each other, mentally, physically, and socially, and that their only mode of exchanging ideas was through the medium of a very incompetent interpreter. Among other things Harold discovered that his friend the chief was extremely fond of anecdotes and stories. He, therefore, while in a convalescent state and unable for much physical exercise, amused himself, and spent much of his time, in narrating to him the adventures of Robinson Crusoe. Yambo's appetite for mental food increased, and when Crusoe's tale was finished he eagerly demanded more. Some of his warriors also came to hear, and at last the hut was unable to contain the audiences that wished to enter. Harold, therefore, removed to an open space under a banyan-tree, and there daily, for several hours, related all the tales and narratives with which he was acquainted, to the hundreds of open-eyed and open-mouthed negroes who squatted around him. At first he selected such tales as he thought would be likely to amuse, but these being soon exhausted, he told them about anything that chanced to recur to his memory. Then, finding that their power to swallow the marvellous was somewhat crocodilish, he gave them Jack the Giant-killer, and Jack of Beanstalk notoriety, and Tom Thumb, Cinderella, etcetera, until his entire nursery stock was exhausted, after which he fell back on his inventive powers; but the labour of this last effort proving very considerable, and the results not being adequately great, he took to history, and told them stories about William Tell, and Wallace, and Bruce, and the Puritans of England, and the Scottish Covenanters, and the discoveries of Columbus, until the eyes and mouths of his black auditors were held so constantly and widely on the stretch, that Disco began to fear they would become gradually incapable of being shut, and he entertained a fear that poor Antonio's tongue would, ere long, be dried up at the roots. At last a thought occurred to our hero, which he promulgated to Disco one morning as they were seated at breakfast on the floor of their hut. "It seems to me, Disco," he said, after a prolonged silence, during which they had been busily engaged with their knives and wooden spoons, "that illness must be sent sometimes, to teach men that they give too little of their thoughts to the future world." "Werry true, sir," replied Disco, in that quiet matter-of-course tone with which men generally receive axiomatic verities; "we _is_ raither given to be swallered up with this world, which ain't surprisin' neither, seein' that we've bin putt into it, and are surrounded by it, mixed up with it, steeped in it, so to speak, an' can't werry well help ourselves." "That last is just the point I'm not quite so sure about," rejoined Harold. "Since I've been lying ill here, I have thought a good deal about forgetting to bring a Bible with me, and about the meaning of the term Christian, which name I bear; and yet I can't, when I look honestly at it, see that I do much to deserve the name." "Well, I don't quite see that, sir," said Disco, with an argumentative curl of his right eyebrow; "you doesn't swear, or drink, or steal, or commit murder, an' a many other things o' that sort. Ain't that the result o' your being a Christian." "It may be so, Disco, but that is only what may be styled the _don't_ side of the question. What troubles me is, that I don't see much on the _do_ side of it." "You says your prayers, sir, don't you?" asked Disco, with the air of a man who had put a telling question. "Well, yes," replied Harold; "but what troubles me is that, while in my creed I profess to think the salvation of souls is of such vital importance, in my practice I seem to say that it is of no importance at all, for here have I been, for many weeks, amongst these black fellows, and have never so much as mentioned the name of our Saviour to them, although I have been telling them no end of stories of all kinds, both true and fanciful." "There's something in that sir," admitted Disco. Harold also thought there was so much in it that he gave the subject a great deal of earnest consideration, and finally resolved to begin to tell the negroes Bible stories. He was thus gradually led to tell them that "old, old story" of God the Saviour's life and death, and love for man, which he found interested, affected, and influenced the savages far more powerfully than any of the tales, whether true or fanciful, with which he had previously entertained them. While doing this a new spirit seemed to actuate himself, and to influence his whole being. While Harold was thus led, almost unconsciously, to become a sower of the blessed seed of God's Word, Marizano was working his way through the country, setting forth, in the most extreme manner, the ultimate results of man's sinful nature, and the devil's lies. One of his first deeds was to visit a village which was beautifully situated on the banks of a small but deep river. In order to avoid alarming the inhabitants, he approached it with only about thirty of his men, twenty of whom were armed. Arrived at the outskirts, he halted his armed men, and advanced with the other ten, calling out cheerfully, "We have things for sale! have you anything to sell?" The chief and his warriors, armed with their bows and arrows and shields, met him, and forbade him to pass within the hedge that encircled the village, but told him to sit down under a tree outside. A mat of split reeds was placed for Marizano to sit on; and when he had explained to the chief that the object of his visit was to trade with him for ivory--in proof of which he pointed to the bales which his men carried,--he was well received, and a great clapping of hands ensued. Presents were then exchanged, and more clapping of hands took place, for this was considered the appropriate ceremony. The chief and his warriors, on sitting down before Marizano and his men, clapped their hands together, and continued slapping on their thighs while handing their presents, or when receiving those of their visitors. It was the African "thank you." To have omitted it would have been considered very bad manners. Soon a brisk trade was commenced, in which the entire community became ere long deeply and eagerly absorbed. Meanwhile Marizano's armed men were allowed to come forward. The women prepared food for the strangers; and after they had eaten and drunk of the native beer heartily, Marizano asked the chief if he had ever seen fire-arms used. "Yes," replied the chief, "but only once at a great distance off. It is told to me that your guns kill very far off--much further than our bows. Is that so?" "It is true," replied Marizano, who was very merry by this time under the influence of the beer, as, indeed, were also his men and their entertainers. "Would you like to see what our guns can do?" asked the half-caste. "If you will permit me, I shall let you hear and see them in use." The unsuspecting chief at once gave his consent. His visitors rose; Marizano gave the word; a volley was poured forth which instantly killed the chief and twenty of his men. The survivors fled in horror. The young women and children were seized; the village was sacked--which means that the old and useless members of the community were murdered in cold blood, and the place was set on fire--and Marizano marched away with his band of captives considerably augmented, leaving a scene of death and horrible desolation behind him. [See Livingstone's _Zambesi and its Tributaries_, pages 201, 202.] Thus did that villain walk through the land with fire and sword procuring slaves for the supply of the "domestic institution" of the Sultan of Zanzibar. By degrees the murderer's drove of black "cattle" increased to such an extent that when he approached the neighbourhood of the village in which Harold and Disco sojourned, he began to think that he had obtained about as many as he could conveniently manage, and meditated turning his face eastward, little dreaming how near he was to a thousand dollars' worth of property, in the shape of ransom for two white men! He was on the point of turning back and missing this when he chanced to fall in with a villager who was out hunting, and who, after a hot chase, was captured. This man was made much of, and presented with some yards of cloth as well as a few beads, at the same time being assured that he had nothing to fear; that the party was merely a slave-trading one; that the number of slaves required had been made up, but that a few more would be purchased if the chief of his village had any to dispose of. On learning from the man that his village was a large one, fully two days' march from the spot where he stood, and filled with armed men, Marizano came to the conclusion that it would not be worth his while to proceed thither, and was about to order his informant to be added to his gang with a slave-stick round his neck, when he suddenly bethought him of inquiring as to whether any white men had been seen in these parts. As he had often made the same inquiry before without obtaining any satisfactory answer, it was with great surprise that he now heard from his captive of two white men being in the very village about which he had been conversing. At once he changed his plan, resumed his march, and, a couple of days afterwards, presented himself before the astonished eyes of Harold Seadrift and Disco Lillihammer, while they were taking a walk about a mile from the village. Disco recognised the slave-trader at once, and, from the troubled as well as surprised look of Marizano, it was pretty evident that he remembered the countenance of Disco. When the recollection of Marizano's cruelty at the time of their first meeting flashed upon him, Disco felt an almost irresistible desire to rush upon and strangle the Portuguese, but the calm deportment of that wily man, and the peaceful manner in which he had approached, partly disarmed his wrath. He could not however, quite restrain his tongue. "Ha!" said he, "you are the blackguard that we met and pretty nigh shot when we first came to these parts, eh? Pity we missed you, you black-hearted villain!" As Marizano did not understand English, these complimentary remarks were lost on him. He seemed, however, to comprehend the drift of them, for he returned Disco's frown with a stare of defiance. "Whatever he was, or whatever he is," interposed Harold, "we must restrain ourselves just now, Disco, because we cannot punish him as he deserves, however much we may wish to, and he seems to have armed men enough to put us and our entertainers completely in his power. Keep quiet while I speak to him." Jumbo and Antonio, armed with bows and arrows,--for they were in search of small game wherewith to supply the pot--came up, looking very much surprised, and the latter a good deal frightened. "Ask him, Antonio," said Harold, "what is his object in visiting this part of the country." "To procure slaves," said Marizano, curtly. "I thought so," returned Harold; "but he will find that the men of this tribe are not easily overcome." "I do not wish to overcome them," said the half-caste. "I have procured enough of slaves, as you see," (pointing to the gang which was halted some hundred yards or so in rear of his armed men), "but I heard that you were prisoners here, and I have come to prove to you that even a slave-trader can return good for evil. _You_ did this," he said, looking at Disco, and pointing to his old wound in the arm; "I now come to deliver you from slavery." Having suppressed part of the truth, and supplemented the rest of it with this magnificent lie, Marizano endeavoured to look magnanimous. "I don't believe a word of it," said Disco, decidedly. "I incline to doubt it too," said Harold; "but he may have some good reason of his own for his friendly professions towards us. In any case we have no resource left but to assume that he speaks the truth." Turning to Marizano, he said:-- "We are not prisoners here. We are guests of the chief of this village." "In that case," replied the half-caste, "I can return to the coast without you." As he said this a large band of the villagers, having discovered that strangers had arrived, drew near. Marizano at once advanced, making peaceful demonstrations, and, after the requisite amount of clapping of hands on both sides, stated the object for which he had come. He made no attempt to conceal the fact that he was a slave-trader, but said that, having purchased enough of slaves, he had visited their village because of certain rumours to the effect that some white men had been lost in these regions, and could not find their way back to the coast. He was anxious, he said, to help these white men to do so, but, finding that the white men then at the village were _not_ the men he was in search of, and did not want to go to the coast, he would just stay long enough with the chief to exchange compliments, and then depart. All this was translated to the white men in question by their faithful ally Antonio, and when they retired to consult as to what should be done, they looked at each other with half amused and half perplexed expressions of countenance. "Werry odd," said Disco, "how contrairy things turns up at times!" "Very odd indeed," assented Harold, laughing. "It is quite true that we are, in one sense, lost and utterly unable to undertake a journey through this country without men, means, or arms; and nothing could be more fortunate than that we should have the chance, thus suddenly thrown in our way, of travelling under the escort of a band of armed men; nevertheless, I cannot bear the idea of travelling with or being indebted to a slave-trader and a scoundrel like Marizano." "That's w'ere it is, sir," said Disco with emphasis, "I could stand anything a'most but that." "And yet," pursued Harold, "it is our only chance. I see quite well that we may remain for years here without again having such an opportunity or such an escort thrown in our way." "There's no help for it, I fear," said Disco. "We must take it like a dose o' nasty physic--hold our nobs, shut our daylights, an' down with it. The only thing I ain't sure of is your ability to travel. You ain't strong yet." "Oh, I'm strong enough now, or very nearly so, and getting stronger every day. Well, then, I suppose it's settled that we go?" "Humph! I'm agreeable, an' the whole business werry disagreeable," said Disco, making a wry face. Marizano was much pleased when the decision of the white men was made known to him, and the native chief was naturally much distressed, for, not only was he about to lose two men of whom he had become very fond, but he was on the point of being bereft of his story-teller, the opener up of his mind, the man who, above all others, had taught him to think about his Maker and a future state. He had sense enough, however, to perceive that his guests could not choose but avail themselves of so good an opportunity, and, after the first feeling of regret was over, made up his mind to the separation. Next day Harold and Disco, with feelings of strong revulsion, almost of shame, fell into the ranks of the slave-gang, and for many days thereafter marched through the land in company with Marizano and his band of lawless villains. Marizano usually walked some distance ahead of the main body with a few trusty comrades. Our adventurers, with their two followers, came next in order of march, the gang of slaves in single file followed, and the armed men brought up the rear. It was necessarily a very long line, and at a distance resembled some hideous reptile crawling slowly and tortuously through the fair fields and plains of Africa. At first there were no stragglers, for the slaves were as yet, with few exceptions, strong and vigorous. These exceptions, and the lazy, were easily kept in the line by means of rope and chain, as well as the rod and lash. Harold and Disco studiously avoided their leader during the march. Marizano fell in with their humour and left them to themselves. At nights they made their own fire and cooked their own supper, as far removed from the slave camp as was consistent with safety, for they could not bear to witness the sufferings of the slaves, or to look upon their captors. Even the food that they were constrained to eat appeared to have a tendency to choke them, and altogether their situation became so terrible that they several times almost formed the desperate resolution of leaving the party and trying to reach the coast by themselves as they best might, but the utter madness and hopelessness of such a project soon forced itself on their minds, and insured its being finally abandoned. One morning Marizano threw off his usual reserve, and, approaching the white men, told them that in two hours they would reach the lake where his employer was encamped. "And who is your master?" asked Harold. "A black-faced or yellow-faced blackguard like himself, I doubt not," growled Disco. Antonio put Harold's question without Disco's comment, and Marizano replied that his master was an Arab trader, and added that he would push on in advance of the party and inform him of their approach. Soon afterwards the lake was reached. A large dhow was in readiness, the gang was embarked and ferried across to a place where several rude buildings and barracoons, with a few tents, indicated that it was one of the inland headquarters of the trade in Black Ivory. The moment our travellers landed Marizano led them to one of the nearest buildings, and introduced them to his master. "Yoosoof!" exclaimed Disco in a shout of astonishment. It would have been a difficult question to have decided which of the three faces displayed the most extreme surprise. Perhaps Disco's would have been awarded the palm, but Yoosoof was undoubtedly the first to regain his self-possession. "You be surprised," he said, in his _very_ broken English, while his pale-yellow visage resumed its placid gravity of expression. "Undoubtedly we are," said Harold. "Bu'stin'!" exclaimed Disco. "You would be not so mush surprised,--did you know dat I comes to here every year, an' dat Engleesh consul ask me for 'quire about you." "If that be so, how comes it that _you_ were surprised to see us?" asked Harold. "'Cause why, I only knows dat some white mans be loss theirselfs--not knows _what_ mans--not knows it was _you_." "Well now," cried Disco, unable to restrain himself as he turned to Harold, "did ever two unfortnits meet wi' sitch luck? Here have we bin' obliged for days to keep company with the greatest Portugee villian in the country, an' now we're needcessitated to be under a obligation to the greatest Arab scoundrel in Afriky." The scoundrel in question smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Yoosoof," cried Disco, clenching his fist and looking full in the trader's eyes, "when I last saw yer ugly face, I vowed that if ever I seed it again I'd leave my mark on it pretty deep, I did; and now I does see it again, but I haven't the moral courage to touch sitch a poor, pitiful, shrivelled-up package o' bones an' half-tanned leather. Moreover, I'm goin' to be indebted to 'ee! Ha! ha!" (he laughed bitterly, and with a dash of wild humour in the tone), "to travel under yer care, an' eat yer accursed bread, and--and--oh! there ain't no sitch thing as shame left in my corpus. I'm a low mean-spirited boastful idiot, that's wot _I_ am, an' I don't care the fag-end of a hunk o' gingerbread who knows it." After this explosion the sorely tried mariner brought his right hand down on his thigh with a tremendous crack, turned about and walked away to cool himself. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. PROGRESS OF THE SLAVE-RUN--THE DEADLY SWAMP, AND THE UNEXPECTED RESCUE. We will now leap over a short period of time--about two or three weeks-- during which the sable procession had been winding its weary way over hill and dale, plain and swamp. During that comparatively brief period, Harold and Disco had seen so much cruelty and suffering that they both felt a strange tendency to believe that the whole must be the wild imaginings of a horrible dream. Perhaps weakness, resulting from illness, might have had something to do with this peculiar feeling of unbelief, for both had been subject to a second, though slight, attack of fever. Nevertheless, coupled with their scepticism was a contradictory and dreadful certainty that they were not dreaming, but that what they witnessed was absolute verity. It is probable that if they had been in their ordinary health and vigour they would have made a violent attempt to rescue the slaves, even at the cost of their own lives. But severe and prolonged illness often unhinges the mind as well as the body, and renders the spirit all but impotent. One sultry evening the sad procession came to a long stretch of swamp, and prepared to cross it. Although already thinned by death, the slave-gang was large. It numbered several hundreds, and was led by Marizano; Yoosoof having started some days in advance in charge of a similar gang. Harold and Disco were by that time in the habit of walking together in front of the gang, chiefly for the purpose of avoiding the sight of cruelties and woes which they were powerless to prevent or assuage. On reaching the edge of the swamp, however, they felt so utterly wearied and dis-spirited that they sat down on a bank to rest, intending to let the slave-gang go into the swamp before them and then follow in rear. Antonio and Jumbo also remained with them. "You should go on in front," said Marizano significantly, on observing their intention. "Tell him we'll remain where we are," said Disco sternly to Antonio. Marizano shrugged his shoulders and left them. The leading men of the slave-gang were ordered to advance, as soon as the armed guard had commenced the toilsome march over ground into which they sank knee-deep at every step. The first man of the gang hesitated and heaved a deep sigh as though his heart failed him at the prospect--and well it might, for, although young, he was not robust, and over-driving, coupled with the weight and the chafing of the goree, had worn him to a skeleton. It was not the policy of the slave-traders to take much care of their Black Ivory. They procured it so cheaply that it was easier and more profitable to lose or cast away some of it, than to put off time in resting and recruiting the weak. The moment it was observed, therefore, that the leading man hesitated, one of the drivers gave him a slash across his naked back with a heavy whip which at once drew blood. Poor wretch; he could ill bear further loss of the precious stream of life, for it had already been deeply drained from him by the slave-stick. The chafing of that instrument of torture had not only worn the skin off his shoulders, but had cut into the quivering flesh, so that blood constantly dropped in small quantities from it. No cry burst from the man's lips on receiving the cruel blow, but he turned his eyes on his captors with a look that seemed to implore for mercy. As well might he have looked for mercy at the hands of Satan. The lash again fell on him with stinging force. He made a feeble effort to advance, staggered, and fell to the ground, dragging down the man to whom he was coupled with such violence as almost to break his neck. The lash was again about to be applied to make him rise, but Disco and Harold rose simultaneously and rushed at the driver, with what intent they scarcely knew; but four armed half-castes stepped between them and the slave. "You had better not interfere," said Marizano, who stood close by. "Out of the way!" cried Harold fiercely, in the strength of his passion hurling aside the man who opposed him. "You shan't give him another cut," said Disco between his teeth, as he seized the driver by the throat. "We don't intend to do so," said Marizano coolly, while the driver released himself from poor Disco's weakened grasp, "he won't need any more." The Englishmen required no explanation of these words. A glance told them that the man was dying. "Cut him out," said Marizano. One of his men immediately brought a saw and cut the fork of the stick which still held the living to the dying man, and which, being riveted on them, could not otherwise be removed. Harold and Disco lifted him up as soon as he was free, and carrying him a short distance aside to a soft part of the bank, laid him gently down. The dying slave looked as if he were surprised at such unwonted tenderness. There was even a slight smile on his lips for a few moments, but it quickly passed away with the fast ebbing tide of life. "Go fetch some water," said Harold. "His lips are dry." Disco rose and ran to fill a small cocoa-nut-shell which he carried at his girdle as a drinking-cup. Returning with it he moistened the man's lips and poured a little of the cool water on the raw sores on each side of his neck. They were so much engrossed with their occupation that neither of them observed that the slave-gang had commenced to pass through the swamp, until the sharp cry of a child drew their attention to it for a moment; but, knowing that they could do no good, they endeavoured to shut their eyes and ears to everything save the duty they had in hand. By degrees the greater part of the long line had got into the swamp and were slowly toiling through it under the stimulus of the lash. Some, like the poor fellow who first fell, had sunk under their accumulated trials, and after a fruitless effort on the part of the slavers to drive them forward, had been kicked aside into the jungle, there to die, or to be torn in pieces by that ever-watchful scavenger of the wilderness, the hyena. These were chiefly women, who having become mothers not long before were unable to carry their infants and keep up with the gang. Others, under the intense dread of flagellation, made the attempt, and staggered on a short distance, only to fall and be left behind in the pestilential swamp, where rank reeds and grass closed over them and formed a ready grave. The difficulties of the swamp were, however, felt most severely by the children, who, from little creatures of not much more than five years of age to well-grown boys and girls, were mingled with and chained to the adults along the line. Their comparatively short legs were not well adapted for such ground, and not a few of them perished there; but although the losses here were terribly numerous in one sense, they after all bore but a small proportion to those whose native vigour carried them through in safety. Among the men there were some whose strength of frame and fierce expression indicated untameable spirits--men who might have been, probably were, heroes among their fellows. It was for men of this stamp that the _goree_, or slave-stick, had been invented, and most effectually did that instrument serve its purpose. Samson himself would have been a mere child in it. There were men in the gang quite as bold, if not as strong, as Samson. One of these, a very tall and powerful negro, on drawing near to the place where Marizano stood superintending the passage, turned suddenly aside, and, although coupled by the neck to a fellow-slave, and securely bound at the wrists with a cord, which was evidently cutting into his swelled flesh, made a desperate kick at the half-caste leader. Although the slave failed to reach him, Marizano was so enraged that he drew a hatchet from his belt and instantly dashed out the man's brains. He fell dead without even a groan. Terrified by this, the rest passed on more rapidly, and there was no further check till a woman in the line, with an infant on her back, stumbled, and, falling down, appeared unable to rise. "Get up!" shouted Marizano, whose rage had rather been increased than abated by the murder he had just committed. The woman rose and attempted to advance, but seemed ready to fall again. Seeing this, Marizano plucked the infant from her back, dashed it against a tree, and flung its quivering body into the jungle, while a terrible application of the lash sent the mother shrieking into the swamp. [See Livingstone's _Zambesi and its Tributaries_, page 857; and for a record of cruelties too horrible to be set down in a book like this, we refer the reader to McLeod's _Travels in Eastern Africa_, volume two page 26. Also to the Appendix of Captain Sulivan's _Dhow-Chasing in Zanzibar Waters_, which contains copious and interesting extracts from evidence taken before the Select Committee of the House of Commons.] Harold and Disco did not witness this, though they heard the shriek of despair, for at the moment the negro they were tending was breathing his last. When his eyes had closed and the spirit had been set free, they rose, and, purposely refraining from looking back, hurried away from the dreadful scene, intending to plunge into the swamp at some distance from the place, and push on until they should regain the head of the column. "Better if we'd never fallen behind, sir," said Disco, in a deep, tremulous voice. "True," replied Harold. "We should have been spared these sights, and the pain of knowing that we cannot prevent this appalling misery and cruelty." "But surely it is to be prevented _somehow_," cried Disco, almost fiercely. "Many a war that has cost mints o' money has been carried on for causes that ain't worth mentionin' in the same breath with _this_!" As Harold knew not what to say, and was toiling knee-deep in the swamp at the moment he made no reply. After marching about half an hour he stopped abruptly and said, with a heavy sigh,--"I hope we haven't missed our way?" "Hope not sir, but it looks like as if we had." "I've bin so took up thinkin' o' that accursed traffic in human bein's that I've lost my reckonin'. Howsever, we can't be far out, an', with the sun to guide us, we'll--" He was stopped by a loud halloo in the woods, on the belt of the swamp. It was repeated in a few seconds, and Antonio, who, with Jumbo, had followed his master, cried in an excited tone-- "Me knows dat sound!" "Wot may it be, Tony?" asked Disco. There was neither time nor need for an answer, for at that moment a ringing cry, something like a bad imitation of a British cheer, was heard, and a band of men sprang out of the woods and ran at full speed towards our Englishmen. "Why, Zombo!" exclaimed Disco, wildly. "Oliveira!" cried Harold. "Masiko! Songolo!" shouted Antonio and Jumbo. "An' Jose, Nakoda, Chimbolo, Mabruki!--the whole bun' of 'em," cried Disco, as one after another these worthies emerged from the wood and rushed in a state of frantic excitement towards their friends--"Hooray!" "Hooroo-hay!" replied the runners. In another minute our adventurous party of travellers was re-united, and for some time nothing but wild excitement, congratulations, queries that got no replies, and replies that ran tilt at irrelevant queries, with confusion worse confounded by explosions of unbounded and irrepressible laughter not unmingled with tears, was the order of the hour. "But wat! yoos ill?" cried Zombo suddenly, looking into Disco's face with an anxious expression. "Well, I ain't 'xac'ly ill, nor I ain't 'xac'ly well neither, but I'm hearty all the same, and werry glad to see your black face, Zombo." "Ho! hooroo-hay! so's me for see you," cried the excitable Zombo; "but come, not good for talkee in de knees to watter. Fall in boy, ho! sholler 'ums--queek mash!" That Zombo had assumed command of his party was made evident by the pat way in which he trolled off the words of command formerly taught to him by Harold, as well as by the prompt obedience that was accorded to his orders. He led the party out of the swamp, and, on reaching a dry spot, halted, in order to make further inquiries and answer questions. "How did you find us, Zombo?" asked Harold, throwing himself wearily on the ground. "_Yoos_ ill," said Zombo, holding up a finger by way of rebuke. "So I am, though not so ill as I look. But come, answer me. How came you to discover us? You could not have found us by mere chance in this wilderness?" "Chanz; wat am chanz?" asked the Makololo. There was some difficulty in getting Antonio to explain the word, from the circumstance of himself being ignorant of it, therefore Harold put the question in a more direct form. "Oh! ve comes here look for yoo, 'cause peepils d'reck 'ums--show de way. Ve's been veeks, monts, oh! _days_ look for yoo. Travil far-- g'rong road--turin bak--try agin--fin' yoo now--hooroo-hay!" "You may say that, indeed. I'd have it in my heart," said Disco, "to give three good rousin' British cheers if it warn't for the thoughts o' that black-hearted villain, Marizano, an' his poor, miserable slaves." "Marizano!" shouted Chimbolo, glaring at Harold. "Marizano!" echoed Zombo, glaring at Disco. Harold now explained to his friends that the slave-hunter was close at hand--a piece of news which visibly excited them,--and described the cruelties of which he had recently been a witness. Zombo showed his teeth like a savage mastiff, and grasped his musket as though he longed to use it, but he uttered no word until the narrative reached that point in which the death of the poor captive was described. Then he suddenly started forward and said something to his followers in the native tongue, which caused each to fling down the small bundle that was strapped to his shoulders. "Yoo stop here," he cried, earnestly, as he turned to Harold and Disco. "Ve's com bak soon. Ho! boys, sholler 'ums! queek mash!" No trained band of Britons ever obeyed with more ready alacrity. No attention was paid to Harold's questions. The "queek mash" carried them out of sight in a few minutes, and when the Englishmen, who had run after them a few paces, halted, under the conviction that in their weak condition they might as well endeavour to keep up with race-horses as with their old friends, they found that Antonio alone remained to keep them company. "Where's Jumbo?" inquired Harold. "Gon' 'way wid oders," replied the interpreter. Examining the bundles of their friends, they found that their contents were powder, ball, and food. It was therefore resolved that a fire should be kindled, and food prepared, to be ready for their friends on their return. "I'm not so sure about their return," said Harold gravely. "They will have to fight against fearful odds if they find the slavers. Foolish fellows; I wish they had not rushed away so madly without consulting us." The day passed; night came and passed also, and another day dawned, but there was no appearance of Zombo and his men, until the sun had been up for some hours. Then they came back, wending their way slowly--very slowly--through the woods, with the whole of the slave-gang, men, women, and children, at their heels! "Where is Marizano?" inquired Harold, almost breathless with surprise. "Dead!" said Zombo. "Dead?" "Ay, dead, couldn't be deader." "And his armed followers?" "Dead, too--some ob ums. Ve got at um in de night. Shotted Marizano all to hatoms. Shotted mos' ob um follerers too. De res' all scatter like leaves in de wind. Me giv' up now," added Zombo, handing his musket to Harold. "Boys! orrer ums! mees Capitin not no more. Now, Capitin Harol', yoos once more look afer us, an' take care ob all ums peepil." Having thus demitted his charge, the faithful Zombo stepped back and left our hero in the unenviable position of a half broken-down man with the responsibility of conducting an expedition, and disposing of a large gang of slaves in some unknown part of equatorial Africa! Leaving him there, we will proceed at once to the coast and follow, for a time, the fortunes of that archvillain, Yoosoof. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. DESCRIBES "BLACK IVORY" AT SEA. Having started for the coast with a large gang of slaves a short time before Marizano, as we have already said, and having left the Englishmen to the care of the half-caste, chiefly because he did not desire their company, although he had no objection to the ransom, Yoosoof proceeded over the same track which we have already described in part, leaving a bloody trail behind him. It is a fearful track, of about 500 miles in length, that which lies between the head of Lake Nyassa and the sea-coast at Kilwa. We have no intention of dragging the reader over it to witness the cruelties and murders that were perpetrated by the slavers, or the agonies endured by the slaves. Livingstone speaks of it as a land of death, of desolation, and dead men's bones. And no wonder, for it is one of the main arteries through which the blood of Africa flows, like the water of natural rivers, to the sea. The slave-gangs are perpetually passing eastward through it--perpetually dropping four-fifths of their numbers on it as they go. Dr Livingstone estimates that, in some cases, not more than _one-tenth_ of the slaves captured reach the sea-coast alive. It is therefore rather under than over-stating the case to say that out of every hundred starting from the interior, _eighty_ perish on the road. Yoosoof left with several thousands of strong and healthy men, women, and children--most of them being children--he arrived at Kilwa with only eight hundred. The rest had sunk by the way, either from exhaustion or cruel treatment, or both. The loss was great; but as regards the trader it could not be called severe, because the whole gang of slaves cost him little--some of them even nothing!--and the remaining eight hundred would fetch a good price. They were miserably thin, indeed, and exhibited on their poor, worn, and travel-stained bodies the evidence of many a cruel castigation; but Yoosoof knew that a little rest and good feeding at Kilwa would restore them to some degree of marketable value, and at Zanzibar he was pretty sure of obtaining, in round numbers, about 10 pounds a head for them, while in the Arabian and Persian ports he could obtain much more, if he chose to pass beyond the treaty-protected water at Lamoo, and run the risk of being captured by British cruisers. It is "piracy" to carry slaves north of Lamoo. South of that point for hundreds of miles, robbery, rapine, murder, cruelty, such as devils could not excel if they were to try, is a "domestic institution" with which Britons are pledged not to interfere! Since the above was written Sir Bartle Frere has returned from his mission, and we are told that a treaty has been signed by the Sultan of Zanzibar putting an end to this domestic slavery. We have not yet seen the terms of this treaty, and must go to press before it appears. We have reason to rejoice and be thankful, however, that such an advantage has been gained. But let not the reader imagine that this settles the question of East African slavery. Portugal still holds to the "domestic institution" in her colonies, and has decreed that it shall not expire till the year 1878. Decreed, in fact, that the horrors which we have attempted to depict shall continue for five years longer! And let it be noted, that the export slave-trade cannot be stopped as long as domestic slavery is permitted. Besides this, there is a continual drain of human beings from Africa through Egypt. Sir Samuel Baker's mission is a blow aimed at that; but nothing, that we know of, is being done in regard to Portuguese wickedness. If the people of this country could only realise the frightful state of things that exists in the African Portuguese territory, and knew how many thousand bodies shall be racked with torture, and souls be launched into eternity during these five years, they would indignantly insist that Portugal should be _compelled_ to stop it _at once_. If it is righteous to constrain the Sultan of Zanzibar, is it not equally so to compel the King of Portugal? The arch robber and murderer, Yoosoof--smooth and oily of face, tongue, and manner though he was--possessed a bold spirit and a grasping heart. The domestic institution did not suit him. Rather than sneak along his villainous course under its protecting "pass," he resolved to bid defiance to laws, treaties, and men-of-war to boot--as many hundreds of his compeers have done and do--and make a bold dash to the north with his eight hundred specimens of Black Ivory. Accordingly, full of his purpose, one afternoon he sauntered up to the barracoons in which his "cattle" were being rested and fed-up. Moosa, his chief driver, was busy among them with the lash, for, like other cattle, they had a tendency to rebel, at least a few of them had; the most of them were by that time reduced to the callous condition which had struck Harold and Disco so much on the occasion of their visits to the slave-market of Zanzibar. Moosa was engaged, when Yoosoof entered, in whipping most unmercifully a small boy whose piercing shrieks had no influence whatever on his tormentor. Close beside them a large strong-boned man lay stretched on the ground. He had just been felled with a heavy stick by Moosa for interfering. He had raised himself on one elbow, while with his right hand he wiped away the blood that oozed from the wound in his head, and appeared to struggle to recover himself from the stunning blow. "What has he been doing?" asked Yoosoof carelessly, in Portuguese. "Oh, the old story, rebelling," said Moosa, savagely hurling the boy into the midst of a group of cowering children, amongst whom he instantly shrank as much as possible out of sight. "That brute," pointing to the prostrate man, "was a chief, it appears, in his own country, and has not yet got all the spirit lashed out of him. But it can't last much longer; either the spirit or the life must go. He has carried that little whelp the last part of the way on his back, and now objects to part with him,--got fond of him, I fancy. If you had taken my advice you would have cast them both to the hyenas long ago." "You are a bad judge of human flesh, Moosa," said Yoosoof, quietly; "more than once you have allowed your passion to rob me of a valuable piece of goods. This man will fetch a good price in Persia, and so will his son. I know that the child is his son, though the fool thinks no one knows that but himself, and rather prides himself on the clever way in which he has continued to keep his whelp beside him on the journey down. Bah! what can one expect from such cattle? Don't separate them, Moosa. They will thrive better together. If we only get them to market in good condition, then we can sell them in separate lots without risking loss of value from pining." In a somewhat sulky tone, for he was not pleased to be found fault with by his chief, the slave-driver ordered out the boy, who was little more than five years old, though the careworn expression of his thin face seemed to indicate a much more advanced age. Trembling with alarm, for he expected a repetition of the punishment, yet not daring to disobey, the child came slowly out from the midst of his hapless companions, and advanced. The man who had partly recovered rose to a sitting position, and regarded Moosa and the Arab with a look of hatred so intense that it is quite certain he would have sprung at them, if the heavy slave-stick had not rendered such an act impossible. "Go, you little whelp," said Moosa, pointing to the fallen chief, and at the same time giving the child a cut with the whip. With a cry of mingled pain and delight poor Obo, for it was he, rushed into his father's open arms, and laid his sobbing head on his breast. He could not nestle into his neck as, in the days of old, he had been wont to do,--the rough goree effectually prevented that. Kambira bent his head over the child and remained perfectly still. He did not dare to move, lest any action, however inoffensive, might induce Moosa to change his mind and separate them again. Poor Kambira! How different from the hearty, bold, kindly chief to whom we introduced the reader in his own wilderness home! His colossal frame was now gaunt in the extreme, and so thin that every rib stood out as though it would burst the skin, and every joint seemed hideously large, while from head to foot his skin was crossed and recrossed with terrible weals, and scarred with open sores, telling of the horrible cruelties to which he had been subjected in the vain attempt to tame his untameable spirit. There can be no question that, if he had been left to the tender mercies of such Portuguese half-caste scoundrels as Moosa or Marizano, he would have been brained with an axe or whipped to death long ago. But Yoosoof was more cool and calculating in his cruelty; he had more respect for his pocket than for the gratification of his angry feelings. Therefore Kambira had reached the coast alive. Little had the simple chief imagined what awaited him on that coast, and on his way to it, when, in the fulness of his heart, he had stated to Harold Seadrift his determination to proceed thither in search of Azinte. Experience had now crushed hope, and taught him to despair. There was but one gleam of light in his otherwise black sky, and that was the presence of his boy. Life had still one charm in it as long as he could lay hold of Obo's little hand and hoist him, not quite so easily as of yore, on his broad shoulders. Yoosoof was sufficiently a judge of human character to be aware that if he separated these two, Kambira would become more dangerous to approach than the fiercest monster in the African wilderness. "We must sail to-night and take our chance," said Yoosoof, turning away from his captives; "the time allowed for our trade is past and I shall run straight north without delay." The Arab here referred to the fact that the period of the year allowed by treaty for the "lawful slave-trade" of the Zanzibar dominions had come to an end. That period extended over several months, and during its course passes from the Sultan secured "domestic slavers" against the British cruisers. After its expiration no export of slaves was permitted anywhere; nevertheless a very large export was carried on, despite non-permission and cruisers. Yoosoof meant to run the blockade and take his chance. "How many dhows have you got?" asked Yoosoof. "Three," replied Moosa. "That will do," returned the Arab after a few minutes' thought; "it will be a tight fit at first, perhaps, but a few days at sea will rectify that. Even in the most healthy season and favourable conditions we must unfortunately count on a good many losses. We shall sail to-morrow." The morrow came, and three dhows left the harbour of Kilwa, hoisted their lateen sails, and steered northwards. They were densely crowded with slaves. Even to the eye of a superficial observer this would have been patent, for the upper deck of each was so closely packed with black men, women, and children, that a square inch of it could not anywhere be seen. They were packed very systematically, in order to secure economical stowage. Each human being sat on his haunches with his thighs against his breast, and his knees touching his chin. They were all ranged thus in rows, shoulder to shoulder, and back to shin, so that the deck was covered with a solid phalanx of human flesh. Change of posture was not provided for: _it was not possible_. There was no awning over the upper deck. The tropical sun poured its rays on the heads of the slaves all day. The dews fell on them all night. The voyage might last for days or weeks, but there was no relief to the wretched multitude. For no purpose whatever could they move from their terrible position, save for the one purpose of being thrown overboard when dead. But we have only spoken of the upper deck of these dhows. Beneath this there was a temporary bamboo deck, with just space sufficient to admit of men being seated in the position above referred to. This was also crowded, but it was not the "Black Hole" of the vessel. That was lower still. Seated on the stone ballast beneath the bamboo deck there was yet another layer of humanity, whose condition can neither be described nor conceived. Without air, without light, without room to move, without hope; with insufferable stench, with hunger and thirst, with heat unbearable, with agony of body and soul, with dread anticipations of the future, and despairing memories of the past, they sat for days and nights together--fed with just enough of uncooked rice and water to keep soul and body together. Not enough in all cases, however, for many succumbed, especially among the women and children. Down in the lowest, filthiest, and darkest corner of this foul hold sat Kambira, with little Obo crushed against his shins. It may be supposed that there was a touch of mercy in this arrangement. Let not the reader suppose so. Yoosoof knew that if Kambira was to be got to market alive, Obo must go along with him. Moosa also knew that if the strong-minded chief was to be subdued at all, it would only be by the most terrible means. Hence his position in the dhow. There was a man seated alongside of Kambira who for some time had appeared to be ill. He could not be seen, for the place was quite dark, save when a man came down with a lantern daily to serve out rice and water; but Kambira knew that he was very ill from his groans and the quiverings of his body. One night these groans ceased, and the man leaned heavily on the chief--not very heavily, however, he was too closely wedged in all round to admit of that. Soon afterwards he became very cold, and Kambira knew that he was dead. All that night and the greater part of next day the dead man sat propped up by his living comrades. When the daily visitor came down, attention was drawn to the body and it was removed. Moosa, who was in charge of this dhow (Yoosoof having command of another), gave orders to have the slaves in the hold examined, and it was discovered that three others were dead and two dying. The dead were thrown overboard; the dying were left till they died, and then followed their released comrades. But now a worse evil befell that dhow. Smallpox broke out among the slaves. It was a terrible emergency, but Moosa was quite equal to it. Ordering the infected, and suspected, slaves to be brought on deck, he examined them. In this operation he was assisted and accompanied by two powerful armed men. There were passengers on board the dhow, chiefly Arabs, and a crew, as well as slaves. The passengers and crew together numbered about thirty-four, all of whom were armed to the teeth. To these this inspection was of great importance, for it was their interest to get rid of the deadly disease as fast as possible. The first slave inspected, a youth of about fifteen, was in an advanced stage of the disease, in fact, dying. A glance was sufficient and at a nod from Moosa, the two powerful men seized him and hurled him into the sea. The poor creature was too far gone even to struggle for life. He sank like a stone. Several children followed. They were unquestionably smitten with the disease, and were at once thrown overboard. Whether the passengers felt pity or no we cannot say. They expressed none, but looked on in silence. So far the work was easy, but when men and women were brought up on whom the disease had not certainly taken effect, Moosa was divided between the desire to check the progress of the evil, and the desire to save valuable property. The property itself also caused some trouble in a few instances, for when it became obvious to one or two of the stronger slave-girls and men what was going to be done with them, they made a hard struggle for their lives, and the two strong men were under the necessity of using a knife, now and then, to facilitate the accomplishment of their purpose. But such cases were rare. Most of the victims were callously submissive; it might not be beyond the truth, in some cases, to say willingly submissive. Each day this scene was enacted, for Moosa was a very determined man, and full forty human beings were thus murdered, but the disease was not stayed. The effort to check it was therefore given up, and the slaves were left to recover or die where they sat. See account of capture of dhow by Captain Robert B. Cay, of H.M.S. "Vulture," in the _Times of India_, 1872. While this was going on in the vessel commanded by Moosa, the other two dhows under Yoosoof and a man named Suliman had been lost sight of. But this was a matter of little moment, as they were all bound for the same Persian port, and were pretty sure, British cruisers permitting, to meet there at last. Meanwhile the dhow ran short of water, and Moosa did not like to venture at that time to make the land, lest he should be caught by one of the hated cruisers or their boats. He preferred to let the wretched slaves take their chance of dying of thirst--hoping, however, to lose only a few of the weakest, as water could be procured a little farther north with greater security. Thus the horrible work of disease, death, and murder went on, until an event occurred which entirely changed the aspect of affairs on board the dhow. Early one morning, Moosa directed the head of his vessel towards the land with the intention of procuring the much needed water. At the same hour and place two cutters belonging to H.M.S. `Firefly,' armed with gun and rocket, twenty men, and an interpreter, crept out under sail with the fishing boats from a neighbouring village. They were under the command of Lieutenants Small and Lindsay respectively. For some days they had been there keeping vigilant watch, but had seen no dhows, and that morning were proceeding out rather depressed by the influence of "hope deferred," when a sail was observed in the offing--or, rather, a mast, for the sail of the dhow had been lowered--the owners intending to wait until the tide should enable them to cross the bar. "Out oars and give way, lads," was the immediate order; for it was necessary to get up all speed on the boats if the dhow was to be reached before she had time to hoist her huge sail. "I hope the haze will last," earnestly muttered Lieutenant Small in the first cutter. "Oh that they may keep on sleeping for five minutes more," excitedly whispered Lieutenant Lindsay in the second cutter. These hopes were coupled with orders to have the gun and rocket in readiness. But the haze would not last to oblige Mr Small, neither would the Arabs keep on sleeping to please Mr Lindsay. On the contrary, the haze dissipated, and the Arabs observed and recognised their enemies when within about half a mile. With wonderful celerity they hoisted sail and stood out to sea in the full-swing of the monsoon. There was no little probability that the boats would fail to overhaul a vessel with so large a sail, therefore other means were instantly resorted to. "Fire!" said Mr Small. "Fire!" cried Mr Lindsay. Bang went the gun, whiz went the rocket, almost at the same moment. A rapid rifle-fire was also opened on the slaver--shot, rocket, and ball bespattered the sea and scattered foam in the air, but did no harm to the dhow, a heavy sea and a strong wind preventing accuracy of aim. "Give it them as fast as you can," was now the order; and well was the order obeyed, for blue-jackets are notoriously smart men in action, and the gun, the rocket, and the rifles kept up a smart iron storm for upwards of two hours, during which time the exciting chase lasted. At last Jackson, the linguist who was in the stern of Lindsay's boat, mortally wounded the steersman of the dhow with a rifle-ball at a distance of about six hundred yards. Not long afterwards the rocket-cutter, being less heavily weighted than her consort, crept ahead, and when within about a hundred and fifty yards of the slaver, let fly a well-directed rocket. It carried away the parrell which secured the yard of the dhow to the mast and brought the sail down instantly on the deck. "Hurra!" burst irresistibly from the blue-jackets. The Arabs were doubly overwhelmed, for besides getting the sail down on their heads, they were astonished and stunned by the shriek, smoke, and flame of the war-rocket. The gun-cutter coming up at the moment the two boats ranged alongside of the slaver, and boarded together. As we have said, the crew and passengers, numbering thirty-four, were armed to the teeth, and they had stood by the halyards during the chase with drawn _creases_, swearing to kill any one who should attempt to shorten sail. These now appeared for a moment as though they meditated resistance, but the irresistible dash of the sailors seemed to change their minds, for they submitted without striking a blow, though many of them were very reluctant to give up their swords and knives. Fortunately the `Firefly' arrived in search of her boats that evening, and the slaves were transferred to her deck. But who shall describe the harrowing scene! The dhow seemed a very nest of black ants, it was so crowded, and the sailors, who had to perform the duty of removing the slaves, were nearly suffocated by the horrible stench. Few of the slaves could straighten themselves after their long confinement. Indeed some of them were unable to stand for days afterwards, and many died on board the `Firefly' before they reached a harbour of refuge and freedom. Those taken from the hold were in the worst condition, especially the children, many of whom were in the most loathsome stages of smallpox, and scrofula of every description. They were so emaciated and weak that many had to be carried on board, and lifted for every movement. Kambira, although able to stand, was doubled up like an old man, and poor little Obo trembled and staggered when he attempted to follow his father, to whom he still clung as to his last and only refuge. To convey these poor wretches to a place where they could be cared for was now Captain Romer's chief anxiety. First however, he landed the crew and passengers, with the exception of Moosa and three of his men. The filthy dhow was then scuttled and sunk, after which the `Firefly' steamed away for Aden, that being the nearest port where the rescued slaves could be landed and set free. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. THE REMEDY. Reader, we will turn aside at this point to preach you a lay sermon, if you will lend an attentive ear. It shall be brief, and straight to the point. Our text is,--Prevention and Cure. There are at least three great channels by which the life-blood of Africa is drained. One trends to the east through the Zanzibar dominions, another to the south-east through the Portuguese dependencies, and a third to the north through Egypt. If the slave-trade is to be effectually checked, the flow through these three channels must be stopped. It is vain to rest content with the stoppage of one leak in our ship if two other leaks are left open. Happily, in regard to the first of these channels, Sir Bartle Frere has been successful in making a grand stride in the way of prevention. If the Sultan of Zanzibar holds to his treaty engagements, "domestic slavery" in his dominions is at an end. Nevertheless, our fleet will be required just as much as ever to prevent the unauthorised, piratical, slave-trade, and this, after all, is but one-third of the preventive work we have to do. Domestic slavery remains untouched in the Portuguese dependencies, and Portugal has decreed that it shall remain untouched until the year 1878! It is well that we should be thoroughly impressed with the fact that so long as slavery in any form is tolerated, the internal--we may say infernal--miseries and horrors which we have attempted to depict will continue to blight the land and brutalise its people. Besides this, justice demands that the same constraint which we lay on the Sultan of Zanzibar should be applied to the King of Portugal. We ought to insist that _his_ "domestic slavery" shall cease at _once_. Still further, as Sir Bartle Frere himself has recommended, we should urge upon our Government the appointment of efficient consular establishments in the Portuguese dependencies, as well as vigilance in securing the observance of the treaties signed by the Sultans of Zanzibar and Muscat. A recent telegram from Sir Samuel Baker assures us that a great step has been made in the way of checking the tide of slavery in the third--the Egyptian--channel, and Sir Bartle Frere bears testimony to the desire of the Khedive that slavery should be put down in his dominions. For this we have reason to be thankful; and the appearance of affairs in that quarter is hopeful, but our hope is mingled with anxiety, because mankind is terribly prone to go to sleep on hopeful appearances. Our nature is such, that our only chance of success lies, under God, in resolving ceaselessly to energise until our ends be accomplished. We must see to it that the Khedive of Egypt acts in accordance with his professions, and for this end efficient consular agency is as needful in the north-east as in the south-east. So much for prevention, but prevention is not cure. In order to accomplish this two things are necessary. There must be points or centres of refuge for the oppressed on the _mainland_ of Africa, and there must be the introduction of the Bible. The first is essential to the second. Where anarchy, murder, injustice, and tyranny are rampant and triumphant, the advance of the missionary is either terribly slow or altogether impossible. The life-giving, soul-softening Word of God, is the only remedy for the woes of mankind, and, therefore, the only cure for Africa. To introduce it effectually, and along with it civilisation and all the blessings that flow therefrom, it is indispensable that Great Britain should obtain, by treaty or by purchase, one or more small pieces of land, there to establish free Christian negro settlements, and there, with force sufficient to defend them from the savages, and worse than savages,--the Arab and Portuguese half-caste barbarians and lawless men who infest the land--hold out the hand of friendship to all natives who choose to claim her protection from the man-stealer, and offer to teach them the blessed truths of Christianity and the arts of civilisation. Many of the men who are best fitted to give an opinion on the point agree in holding that some such centre, or centres, on the mainland are essential to the permanent cure of slavery, although they differ a little as to the best localities for them. Take, for instance, Darra Salaam on the coast, the Manganja highlands near the river Shire, and Kartoum on the Nile. Three such centres would, if established, begin at once to dry up the slave-trade at its three fountain-heads, while our cruisers would check it on the coast. In these centres of light and freedom the negroes might see exemplified the blessings of Christianity and civilisation, and, thence, trained native missionaries might radiate into all parts of the vast continent armed only with the Word of God, the shield of Faith, and the sword of the Spirit in order to preach the glad tidings of salvation through Jesus Christ our Lord. In brief, the great points on which we ought as a nation, to insist, are the _immediate_ abolition of the slave-trade in Portuguese dependencies; the scrupulous fulfilment of treaty obligations by the Sultans of Zanzibar and Muscat, the Shah of Persia, and the Khedive of Egypt; the establishment by our Government of efficient consular agencies where such are required; the acquisition of territory on the mainland for the purposes already mentioned, and the united action of all Christians in our land to raise funds and send men to preach the Gospel to the negro. So doing we shall, with God's blessing, put an end to the Eastern slave-trade, save equatorial Africa, and materially increase the commerce, the riches, and the happiness of the world. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. TELLS OF SAD SIGHTS, AND SUDDEN EVENTS, AND UNEXPECTED MEETINGS. In the course of time, our hero, Harold Seadrift, and his faithful ally, Disco Lillihammer, after innumerable adventures which we are unwillingly obliged to pass over in silence, returned to the coast and, in the course of their wanderings in search of a vessel which should convey them to Zanzibar, found themselves at last in the town of Governor Letotti. Being English travellers, they were received as guests by the Governor, and Harold was introduced to Senhorina Maraquita. Passing through the market-place one day, they observed a crowd round the flag-staff in the centre of the square, and, following the irresistible tendency of human nature in such circumstances, ran to see what was going on. They found that a slave was about to be publicly whipped by soldiers. The unhappy man was suspended by the wrists from the flag-staff, and a single cord of coir round his waist afforded him additional support. "Come away, we can do no good here," said Harold, in a low, sorrowful tone, which was drowned in the shriek of the victim, as the first lash fell on his naked shoulders. "Pra'ps he's a criminal," suggested Disco, as he hurried away, endeavouring to comfort himself with the thought that the man probably deserved punishment. "It's not the whippin' I think so much of," he added; "that is the only thing as will do for some characters, but it's the awful cruelties that goes along with it." Returning through the same square about an hour later, having almost forgotten about the slave by that time, they were horrified to observe that the wretched man was still hanging there. Hastening towards him, they found that he was gasping for breath. His veins were bursting, and his flesh was deeply lacerated by the cords with which he was suspended. He turned his head as the Englishmen approached, and spoke a few words which they did not understand; but the appealing look of his bloodshot eyes spoke a language that required no interpreter. At an earlier period in their career in Africa, both Harold and Disco would have acted on their first impulse, and cut the man down; but experience had taught them that this style of interference, while it put their own lives in jeopardy, had sometimes the effect of increasing the punishment and sufferings of those whom they sought to befriend. Acting on a wiser plan, they resolved to appeal to Governor Letotti in his behalf. They therefore ran to his residence, where Maraquita, who conversed with Harold in French, informed them that her father was in the "Geresa," or public palaver house. To that building they hastened, and found that it was in the very square they had left. But Senhor Letotti was not there. He had observed the Englishmen coming, and, having a shrewd guess what their errand was, had disappeared and hid himself. His chief-officer informed them that he had left the town early in the morning, and would not return till the afternoon. Harold felt quite sure that this was a falsehood, but of course was obliged to accept it as truth. "Is there no one to act for the Governor in his absence?" he asked, anxiously. No, there was no one; but after a few minutes the chief-officer appeared to be overcome by Harold's earnest entreaties, and said that he could take upon himself to act, that he would suspend the punishment till the Governor's return, when Harold might prefer his petition to him in person. Accordingly, the slave was taken down. In the afternoon Harold saw the Governor, and explained that he did not wish to interfere with his province as a magistrate, but that what he had witnessed was so shocking that he availed himself of his privilege as a guest to pray that the man's punishment might be mitigated. Governor Letotti's health had failed him of late, and he had suffered some severe disappointments in money matters, so that his wonted amiability had been considerably reduced. He objected, at first, to interfere with the course of justice; but finally gave a reluctant consent, and the man was pardoned. Afterwards, however, when our travellers were absent from the town for a day, the wretched slave was again tied up, and the full amount of his punishment inflicted; in other words, he was flogged to death. [For the incident on which this is founded we are indebted to the Reverend Doctor Ryan, late Bishop of the Mauritius.] This incident had such an effect on the mind of Harold, that he resolved no longer to accept the hospitality of Governor Letotti. He had some difficulty, however, in persuading himself to carry his resolve into effect, for the Governor, although harsh in his dealing with the slave, had been exceedingly kind and amiable to himself; but an unexpected event occurred which put an end to his difficulties. This was the illness and sudden death of his host. Poor, disconsolate Maraquita, in the first passion of her grief, fled to the residence of the only female friend she had in the town, and refused firmly to return home. Thus it came to pass that Harold's intercourse with the Senhorina was cut short at its commencement, and thus he missed the opportunity of learning something of the fortunes of Azinte; for it is certain that, if they had conversed much together, as would probably have been the case had her father lived, some mention of the slave-girl's name could not fail to have been made, and their mutual knowledge of her to have been elicited and interchanged. In those days there was no regular communication between one point and another of the east coast of Africa and the neighbouring islands. Travellers had frequently to wait long for a chance; and when they got one were often glad to take advantage of it without being fastidious as to its character. Soon after the events above narrated, a small trading schooner touched at the port. It was bound for the Seychelles, intending to return by Zanzibar and Madagascar, and proceed to the Cape. Harold would rather have gone direct to Zanzibar, but, having plenty of time on his hands, as well as means, he was content to avail himself of the opportunity, and took passage in the schooner for himself, Disco, and Jumbo. That sable and faithful friend was the only one of his companions who was willing to follow him anywhere on the face of the earth. The others received their pay and their discharge with smiling faces, and scattered to their several homes--Antonio departing to complete his interrupted honeymoon. Just before leaving, Harold sought and obtained permission to visit Maraquita, to bid her good-bye. The poor child was terribly overwhelmed by the death of her father, and could not speak of him without giving way to passionate grief. She told Harold that she meant to leave the coast by the first opportunity that should offer, and proceed to the Cape of Good Hope, where, in some part of the interior, lived an old aunt, the only relative she now had on earth, who, she knew, would be glad to receive her. Our hero did his best to comfort the poor girl, and expressed deep sympathy with her, but felt that his power to console was very small indeed. After a brief interview he bade her farewell. The voyage which our travellers now commenced was likely to be of considerable duration, for the Seychelles Islands lie a long way to the eastward of Africa, but as we have said, time was of no importance to Harold, and he was not sorry to have an opportunity of visiting a group of islands which are of some celebrity in connexion with the East African slave-trade. Thus, all unknown to himself or Disco, as well as to Maraquita, who would have been intensely interested had she known the fact, he was led towards the new abode of our sable heroine Azinte. But alas! for Kambira and Obo,--they were being conveyed, also, of course, unknown to themselves or to any one else, further and further away from one whom they would have given their heart's blood to meet with and embrace, and it seemed as if there were not a chance of any gleam of light bridging over the ever widening gulf that lay between them, for although Lieutenant Lindsay knew that Azinte had been left at the Seychelles, he had not the remotest idea that Kambira was Azinte's husband, and among several hundreds of freed slaves the second lieutenant of the `Firefly' was not likely to single out, and hold converse with a chief whose language he did not understand, and who, as far as appearances went, was almost as miserable, sickly, and degraded as were the rest of the unhappy beings by whom he was surrounded. Providence, however, turned the tide of affairs in favour of Kambira and his son. On reaching Zanzibar Captain Romer had learned from the commander of another cruiser that Aden was at that time somewhat overwhelmed with freed slaves, a considerable number of captures having been recently made about the neighbourhood of that great rendezvous of slavers, the island of Socotra. The captain therefore changed his mind, and once more very unwillingly directed his course towards the distant Seychelles. On the way thither many of the poor negroes died, but many began to recover strength under the influence of kind treatment and generous diet. Among these latter was Kambira. His erect gait and manly look soon began to return, and his ribs, so to speak, to disappear. It was otherwise with poor Obo. The severity of the treatment to which he had been exposed was almost too much for so young a frame. He lost appetite and slowly declined, notwithstanding the doctor's utmost care. This state of things continuing until the `Firefly' arrived at the Seychelles, Obo was at once conveyed to the hospital which we have referred to as having been established there. Azinte chanced to be absent in the neighbouring town on some errand connected with her duties as nurse, when her boy was laid on his bed beside a number of similar sufferers. It was a sad sight to behold these little ones. Out of the original eighty-three children who had been placed there forty-seven had died in three weeks, and the remnant were still in a pitiable condition. While on their beds of pain, tossing about in their delirium, the minds of these little ones frequently ran back to their forest homes, and while some, in spirit, laughed and romped once more around their huts, thousands of miles away on the banks of some African river, others called aloud in their sufferings for the dearest of all earthly beings to them--their mothers. Some of them also whispered the name of Jesus, for the missionary had been careful to tell them the story of our loving Lord, while tending their poor bodies. Obo had fevered slightly, and in the restless half-slumber into which he fell on being put to bed, he, too, called earnestly for his mother. In _his_ case, poor child, the call was not in vain. Lieutenant Lindsay and the doctor of the ship, with Kambira, had accompanied Obo to the hospital. "Now, Lindsay," said the doctor, when the child had been made as comfortable as circumstances would admit of, "this man must not be left here, for he will be useless, and it is of the utmost consequence that the child should have some days of absolute repose. What shall we do with him?" "Take him on board again," said Lindsay. "I daresay we shall find him employment for a short time." "If you will allow me to take charge of him," interposed the missionary, who was standing by them at the time, "I can easily find him employment in the neighbourhood, so that he can come occasionally to see his child when we think it safe to allow him." "That will be the better plan," said the doctor, "for as long as--" A short sharp cry near the door of the room cut the sentence short. All eyes were turned in that direction and they beheld Azinte gazing wildly at them, and standing as if transformed to stone. The instant Kambira saw his wife he leaped up as if he had received an electric shock, bounded forward like a panther, uttered a shout that did full credit to the chief of a warlike African tribe, and seized Azinte in his arms. No wonder that thirty-six little black heads leaped from thirty-six little white pillows, and displayed all the whites of seventy-two eyes that were anything but little, when this astonishing scene took place! But Kambira quickly recovered himself, and, grasping Azinte by the arm, led her gently towards the bed which had just been occupied, and pointed to the little one that slumbered uneasily there. Strangely enough, just at the moment little Obo again whispered the word "mother." Poor Azinte's eyes seemed ready to start from their sockets. She stretched out her arms and tried to rush towards her child, but Kambira held her back. "Obo is very sick," he said, "you must touch him tenderly." The chief looked into his wife's eyes, saw that she understood him, and let her go. Azinte crept softly to the bed, knelt down beside it and put her arms so softly round Obo that she scarcely moved him, yet she gradually drew him towards her until his head rested on her swelling bosom, and she pressed her lips tenderly upon his brow. It was an old familiar attitude which seemed to pierce the slumbers of the child with a pleasant reminiscence, and dissipate his malady, for he heaved a deep sigh of contentment and sank into profound repose. "Good!" said the doctor, in a low tone, with a significant nod to Lindsay, when an interpreter had explained what had been already guessed by all present, that Kambira and Azinte were man and wife; "Obo has a better chance now of recovery than I had anticipated; for joy goes a long way towards effecting a cure. Come, we will leave them together." Kambira was naturally anxious to remain, but like all commanding spirits, he had long ago learned that cardinal virtue, "obedience to whom obedience is due." When it was explained to him that it would be for Obo's advantage to be left alone with his mother for a time, he arose, bowed his head, and meekly followed his friends out of the room. Exactly one week from that date little Obo had recovered so much of his former health that he was permitted to go out into the air, and, a few days later, Lieutenant Lindsay resolved to take him, and his father and mother, on board the `Firefly,' by way of a little ploy. In pursuance of this plan he set off from the hospital in company with Kambira, followed at a short distance by Azinte and Obo. Poor Lindsay! his heart was heavy, while he did his best to convey in dumb show his congratulations to Kambira, for he saw in this unexpected re-union an insurmountable difficulty in the way of taking Azinte back to her former mistress--not that he had ever seen the remotest chance of his being able to achieve that desirable end before this difficulty arose, but love is at times insanely hopeful, just as at other times-- and with equally little reason--it is madly despairing. He had just made some complicated signs with hands, mouth, and eyebrows, and had succeeded in rendering himself altogether incomprehensible to his sable companion, when, on rounding a turn of the path that led to the harbour, he found himself suddenly face to face with Harold Seadrift, Disco Lillihammer, and their follower, Jumbo, all of whom had landed from a schooner, which, about an hour before, had cast anchor in the bay. "Mr Lindsay!" "Mr Seadrift!" exclaimed each to the other simultaneously, for the reader will remember that they had met once before when our heroes were rescued from Yoosoof by the "Firefly." "Kambira!" shouted Disco. "Azinte!" cried Harold, as our sable heroine came into view. "Obo!" roared the stricken mariner. Jumbo could only vent his feelings in an appalling yell and an impromptu war-dance round the party, in which he was joined by Disco, who performed a hornpipe with Obo in his arms, to the intense delight of that convalescent youngster. Thus laughing, questioning, shouting, and dancing, they all effervesced towards the shore like a band of lunatics just escaped from Bedlam! CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. THE LAST. "How comes it," said Lieutenant Lindsay to Harold, on the first favourable opportunity that occurred after the meeting described in the last chapter; "how comes it that you and Kambira know each other so well?" "I might reply by asking," said Harold, with a smile, "how comes it that you are so well acquainted with Azinte? but, before putting that question, I will give a satisfactory answer to your own." Hereupon he gave a brief outline of those events, already narrated in full to the reader, which bore on his first meeting with the slave-girl, and his subsequent sojourn with her husband. "After leaving the interior," continued our hero, "and returning to the coast, I visited various towns in order to observe the state of the slaves in the Portuguese settlements, and, truly, what I saw was most deplorable--demoralisation and cruelty, and the obstruction of lawful trade, prevailed everywhere. The settlements are to my mind a very pandemonium on earth. Every one seemed to me more or less affected by the accursed atmosphere that prevails. Of course there must be some exceptions. I met with one, at the last town I visited, in the person of Governor Letotti." "Letotti!" exclaimed Lindsay, stopping abruptly. "Yes!" said Harold, in some surprise at the lieutenant's manner, "and a most amiable man he was--" "Was!--was! What do you mean? Is--is he dead?" exclaimed Lindsay, turning pale. "He died suddenly just before I left," said Harold. "And Maraquita--I mean his daughter--what of her?" asked the lieutenant, turning as red as he had previously turned pale. Harold noted the change, and a gleam of light seemed to break upon him as he replied:-- "Poor girl, she was overwhelmed at first by the heavy blow. I had to quit the place almost immediately after the event." "Did you know her well?" asked Lindsay, with an uneasy glance at his companion's handsome face. "No; I had just been introduced to her shortly before her father's death, and have scarcely exchanged a dozen sentences with her. It is said that her father died in debt, but of course in regard to that I know nothing certainly. At parting, she told me that she meant to leave the coast and go to stay with a relative at the Cape." The poor lieutenant's look on hearing this was so peculiar, not to say alarming, that Harold could not help referring to it, and Lindsay was so much overwhelmed by such unexpected news, and, withal, so strongly attracted by Harold's sympathetic manner, that he straightway made a confidant of him, told him of his love for Maraquita, of Maraquita's love for Azinte, of the utter impossibility of his being able to take Azinte back to her old mistress, now that she had found her husband and child, even if it had been admissible for a lieutenant in the British navy to return freed negroes again into slavery, and wound up with bitter lamentations as to his unhappy fate, and expressions of poignant regret that fighting and other desperate means, congenial and easy to his disposition, were not available in the circumstances. After which explosion he subsided, felt ashamed of having thus committed himself, and looked rather foolish. But Harold quickly put him at his ease. He entered on the subject with earnest gravity. "It strikes me, Lindsay," he said thoughtfully, after the lieutenant had finished, "that I can aid you in this affair; but you must not ask me how at present. Give me a few hours to think over it, and then I shall have matured my plans." Of course the lieutenant hailed with heartfelt gratitude the gleam of hope held out to him, and thus the friends parted for a time. That same afternoon Harold sat under a palm-tree in company with Disco, Jumbo, Kambira, Azinte, and Obo. "How would you like to go with me to the Cape of Good Hope, Kambira?" asked Harold abruptly. "Whar dat?" asked the chief through Jumbo. "Far away to the south of Africa," answered Harold. "You know that you can never go back to your own land now, unless you want to be again enslaved." "Him say him no' want to go back," interpreted Jumbo; "got all him care for now--Azinte and Obo." "Then do you agree to go with me?" said Harold. To this Kambira replied heartily that he did. "W'y, wot do 'ee mean for to do with 'em?" asked Disco, in some surprise. "I will get them comfortably settled there," replied Harold. "My father has a business friend in Cape Town who will easily manage to put me in the way of doing it. Besides, I have a particular reason for wishing to take Azinte there.--Ask her, Jumbo, if she remembers a young lady named Senhorina Maraquita Letotti." To this Azinte replied that she did, and the way in which her eyes sparkled proved that she remembered her with intense pleasure. "Well, tell her," rejoined Harold, "that Maraquita has grieved very much at losing her, and is _very_ anxious to get her back again--not as a slave, but as a friend, for no slavery is allowed in English settlements anywhere, and I am sure that Maraquita hates slavery as much as I do, though she is not English, so I intend to take her and Kambira and Obo to the Cape, where Maraquita is living--or will be living soon." "Ye don't stick at trifles, sir," said Disco, whose eyes, on hearing this, assumed a thoughtful, almost a troubled look. "My plan does not seem to please you," said Harold. "Please me, sir, w'y shouldn't it please me? In course you knows best; I was only a little puzzled, that's all." Disco said no more, but he thought a good deal, for he had noted the beauty and sprightliness of Maraquita, and the admiration with which Harold had first beheld her; and it seemed to him that this rather powerful method of attempting to gratify the Portuguese girl was proof positive that Harold had lost his heart to her. Harold guessed what was running in Disco's mind, but did not care to undeceive him, as, in so doing, he might run some risk of betraying the trust reposed in him by Lindsay. The captain of the schooner, being bound for the Cape after visiting Zanzibar, was willing to take these additional passengers, and the anxious lieutenant was induced to postpone total and irrevocable despair, although, Maraquita being poor, and he being poor, and promotion in the service being very slow, he had little reason to believe his prospects much brighter than they were before,--poor fellow! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Time passed on rapid wing--as time is notoriously prone to do--and the fortunes of our _dramatis personae_ varied somewhat. Captain Romer continued to roam the Eastern seas, along with brother captains, and spent his labour and strength in rescuing a few hundreds of captives from among the hundreds of thousands that were continually flowing out of unhappy Africa. Yoosoof and Moosa continued to throw a boat-load or two of damaged "cattle" in the way of the British cruisers, as a decoy, and succeeded on the whole pretty well in running full cargoes of valuable Black Ivory to the northern markets. The Sultan of Zanzibar continued to assure the British Consul that he heartily sympathised with England in her desire to abolish slavery, and to allow his officials, for a "consideration," to prosecute the slave-trade to any extent they pleased! Portugal continued to assure England of her sympathy and co-operation in the good work of repression, and her subjects on the east coast of Africa continued to export thousands of slaves under the protection of the Portuguese and French flags, styling them _free engages_. British-Indian subjects--the Banyans of Zanzibar,--continued to furnish the sinews of war which kept the gigantic trade in human flesh going on merrily. Murders, etcetera, continued to be perpetrated, tribes to be plundered, and hearts to be broken--of course "legally" and "domestically," as well as piratically-- during this rapid flight of time. But nearly everything in this life has its bright lights and half-tints, as well as its deep shadows. During the same flight of time, humane individuals have continued to urge on the good cause of the total abolition of slavery, and Christian missionaries have continued, despite the difficulties of slave-trade, climate, and human apathy, to sow here and there on the coasts the precious seed of Gospel truth, which we trust shall yet be sown broad-cast by native hands, throughout the length and breadth of that mighty land. To come more closely to the subjects of our tale: Chimbolo, with his recovered wife and child, sought safety from the slavers in the far interior, and continued to think with pleasure and gratitude of the two Englishmen who hated slavery, and who had gone to Africa just in the nick of time to rescue that unhappy slave who had been almost flogged to death, and was on the point of being drowned in the Zambesi in a sack. Mokompa, also, continued to poetise, as in days gone by, having made a safe retreat with Chimbolo, and, among other things, enshrined all the deeds of the two white men in native verse. Yambo continued to extol play, admire, and propagate the life-sized jumping-jack to such an extent that, unless his career has been cut short by the slavers, we fully expect to find that creature a "domestic institution" when the slave-trade has been crushed, and Africa opened up--as in the end it is certain to be. During the progress and continuance of all these things, you may be sure our hero was not idle. He sailed, as proposed, with Kambira, Azinte, Obo, Disco, and Jumbo for Zanzibar, touched at the town over which poor Senhor Francisco Alfonso Toledo Bignoso Letotti had ruled, found that the Senhorina had taken her departure; followed, as Disco said, in her wake; reached the Cape, hunted her up, found her out and presented to her, with Lieutenant Lindsay's compliments, the African chief Kambira, his wife Azinte, and his son Obo! Poor Maraquita, being of a passionately affectionate and romantic disposition, went nearly mad with joy, and bestowed so many grateful glances and smiles on Harold that Disco's suspicions were confirmed, and that bold mariner wished her, Maraquita, "at the bottom of the sea!" for Disco disliked foreigners, and could not bear the thought of his friend being caught by one of them. Maraquita introduced Harold to her aunt, a middle-aged, leather-skinned, excessively dark-eyed daughter of Portugal. She also introduced him to a bosom friend, at that time on a visit to her aunt. The bosom friend was an auburn-haired, fair-skinned, cheerful-spirited English girl. Before her, Harold Seadrift at once, without an instant's warning, fell flat down, figuratively speaking of course, and remained so--stricken through the heart! The exigencies of our tale require, at this point, that we should draw our outline with a bold and rapid pencil. Disco Lillihammer was stunned, and so was Jumbo, when Harold, some weeks after their arrival at the Cape, informed them that he was engaged to be married to Alice Gray, only daughter of the late Sir Eustace Gray, who had been M.P. for some county in England, which he had forgotten the name of, Alice not having been able to recall it, as her father had died when she was four years old, leaving her a fortune of next-to-nothing a year, and a sweet temper. Being incapable of further stunning, Disco was rather revived than otherwise, and his dark shadow was resuscitated, when Harold added that Kambira had become Maraquita's head-gardener, Azinte cook to the establishment, and Obo page-in-waiting--more probably page-in-mischief-- to the young Senhorina. But both Disco and Jumbo had a relapse from which they were long of recovering, when Harold went on to say that he meant to sail for England by the next mail, take Jumbo with him as valet, make proposals to his father to establish a branch of their house at the Cape, come back to manage the branch, marry Alice, and reside in the neighbourhood of the Senhorina Maraquita Letotti's dwelling. "You means wot you say, I s'pose?" asked Disco. "Of course I do," said Harold. "An' yer goin' to take Jumbo as yer walley?" "Yes." "H'm; I'll go too as yer keeper." "My what?" "Yer keeper--yer strait-veskit buckler, for if you ain't a loonatic ye ought to be." But Disco did not go to England in that capacity. He remained at the Cape to assist Kambira, at the express command of Maraquita; and continued there until Harold returned, bringing Lieutenant Lindsay with him as a partner in the business; until Harold was married and required a gardener for his own domain; until the Senhorina became Mrs Lindsay; until a large and thriving band of little Cape colonists found it necessary to have a general story-teller and adventure-recounter with a nautical turn of mind; until, in short, he found it convenient to go to England himself for the gal of his heart who had been photographed there years before, and could be rubbed off neither by sickness, sunstroke, nor adversity. When Disco had returned to the colony with the original of the said photograph, and had fairly settled down on his own farm, then it was that he was wont at eventide to assemble the little colonists round him, light his pipe, and, through its hazy influence, recount his experiences, and deliver his opinions on the slave-trade of East Africa. Sometimes he was pathetic, sometimes humorous, but, however jocular he might be on other subjects, he invariably became very grave and very earnest when he touched on the latter theme. "There's only one way to cure it," he was wont to say, "and that is, to bring the Portuguese and Arabs to their marrow-bones; put the fleet on the east coast in better workin' order; have consuls everywhere, with orders to keep their weather-eyes open to the slave-dealers; start two or three British settlements--ports o' refuge--on the mainland; hoist the Union Jack, and, last but not least, send 'em the Bible." We earnestly commend the substance of Disco's opinions to the reader, for there is urgent need for action. There is death where life should be; ashes instead of beauty; desolation in place of fertility, and, even while we write, terrible activity in the horrible traffic in--"Black Ivory." THE END. 
21490	----	The Two Supercargoes; Adventures in Savage Africa, by W.H.G. Kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ This is rather a standard Kingston book, with adventures this time shore-based in Africa, which, at the time of the story, the early nineteenth century, was largely unknown. The two young men sail as supercargoes, a post which at that time existed, but which later was to be known a ship's clerk. The job of a supercargo was to be in charge of where in the vessel each item of cargo was stored, so that on arrival at its destination it could be quickly and easily found. Of course in those days, as fifty years ago, items of cargo were individual small objects, sometimes stowed on pallets, but mostly in casks. A pallet or a cask would be an individual item. It wasn't very easy to read this text due to a slightly heavy typeface, so there may be a few errors, but not, we hope, over the 99.95% odds. Probably best for that reason as an audiobook. ________________________________________________________________________ THE TWO SUPERCARGOES, ADVENTURES IN SAVAGE AFRICA, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON. Adventures in Savage Africa. CHAPTER ONE. THE OFFICE OF FRANK, TRUNNION & SWAB--HARRY BRACEWELL REPORTS THE ARRIVAL OF THE "ARROW"--HISTORY OF NICHOLAS SWAB--THE SLAVE TRADE--OUR FIRM GIVES UP ALL CONNECTION WITH IT--CAPTAIN RODERICK TRUNNION-- SOMETHING ABOUT MYSELF AND FRIENDS--INTERVIEW BETWEEN MR. TRUNNION AND GODFREY MAGOR, MATE OF THE "ARROW"--AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL--A STRANGE ACCUSATION--SUSPICIONS OF CAPTAIN TRUNNION--MRS. BRACEWELL AND HER DAUGHTER MARY. "The `Arrow' has come in, sir, from the Coast of Africa, under charge of Mr Godfrey Magor, the second mate," I heard Harry Bracewell, one of our shipping clerks, say, as I was seated on a high stool, pen in hand, leaning over my desk in the office of Messrs. Crank, Trunnion & Swab, general merchants, of Liverpool Harry addressed the senior partner, Mr Peter Crank, who had just then stepped out of his private room with a bundle of papers in his hand into the counting-house, where I, with a dozen other clerks, senior and junior, were driving our quills as fast as we could move them over the paper, or adding up columns of figures, or making calculations, as the case might be. As I turned my head slightly, I could see both Mr Crank and Harry. They afforded a strange contrast. Harry was tall, well-built, had a handsome countenance, with a pleasant expression which betokened his real character, for he was as kind, honest, and generous a young fellow as ever lived--the only son of his mother, the widow of a naval officer killed in action. She had come to Liverpool for the sake of giving a home to Harry, who had been for some time in the employment of the firm. The difference between Mr Crank and Harry was indeed most conspicuous in their personal appearance. Whereas Harry was tall, Mr Crank was short and stout; he had a bald head, shining as if it had been carefully polished, a round face, with a florid complexion, and a nose which was allowed by his warmest friends to be a snub; but he had a good mouth, bright blue eyes, often twinkling with humour, which seemed to look through and through those he addressed, while his brow exhibited a considerable amount of intellect. Had not he possessed that, he would not have been at the head of the firm of Crank, Trunnion & Swab. "Brought home, did you say, by Godfrey Magor? What has happened to Captain Rig and the first mate?" "Both died from fever while up the Nunn, as did all hands except himself and three others. So Mr Magor told me; and the survivors were all so weak, that he could not have brought the vessel home had he not shipped six Kroomen. He had also a narrow escape from pirates, who actually boarded his vessel, when a man-of-war heaving in sight, they made off without plundering her or killing any one." "Bless my heart! I'm sorry to hear about Captain Rig's death. The poor man remained longer up the river than he should have done, no doubt about that I have over and over again charged the masters of our vessels to be careful in that respect, but they won't attend to what I say. Let me see! that makes the fifth who has lost his life during the last two years. I'm thankful he got clear of the pirates. Those rascals have long been the greatest pests on that coast. It is time the British Government should take effectual steps to put a stop to their depredations by sending a squadron into those seas. Have you brought the manifest and the other papers with you?" "Yes, sir," answered Harry, producing them. "Mr Magor will be on shore himself in an hour or two, when he has seen the vessel made snug, for he has no one to leave in charge; he himself is still suffering from the fever, and two of her white crew are in their bunks." Mr Crank, taking the documents, retired with them into his room, to run his eye over the list of articles brought by the "Arrow," and to calculate their present market value. The result I know was satisfactory. I had afterwards to note down the prices which they fetched. Merchants who could make so large a percentage on all their cargoes were certain to grow rich. It was at the cost, however, of the lives of a great number of human beings; but that was not my employers' look out, nor did they allow the matter to trouble their consciences. They could always obtain fresh masters to take charge of their vessels, and fresh crews to man them. In a short time Mr Trunnion, who had heard on 'Change of the arrival of the "Arrow," came in to learn what news she had brought, expecting to find her master, who was wont, immediately he came on shore, to put in an appearance at the office. Mr Trunnion expressed himself much shocked at Captain Rig's death. "Poor fellow! he used to boast that he was acclimatised, but it is a proof of the old adage, `that the pitcher which goes often to the well gets broken at last.' We might have lost a worse man;" and with this remark Mr Trunnion passed into his room, in which he sat to receive visitors on private business. Mr Trunnion, although the second partner, was the youngest in the firm. He was a good-looking, urbane, well-mannered man, who, if not always loved by those under him, was much liked and respected in the social circle in which he moved, he being also one of the magnates of Liverpool. For my own part, I had reason to like and be grateful to Mr Swab, the junior member of the firm. He had formerly been a clerk in the house, but by diligent attention to and a thorough knowledge of business and strict honesty, he had some years before been made a partner. To him I felt that I owed all the knowledge I possessed of commercial affairs, as from my first entrance into the office he took notice of me, and gave me the instruction I so much required. My chief friend was Harry Bracewell, who was also a favourite with Mr Swab, and had received the same instruction from him that I had obtained. Mr Swab was not at all ashamed of his origin. He used to tell us that he had risen, not from the gutter, but from the mud, like other strange animals, having obtained his livelihood in his early days by hunting at low tide for whatever he could pick up along the shore, thrown overboard from the lighters or similar vessels unloading at the quays. At length it was his good fortune to pick a purse out of the mud containing ten golden guineas, and, as he used to tell us, being convinced that he should never have a find like it, he resolved to quit his occupation, for which he had no particular fancy, and endeavour to obtain a situation where he might have a prospect of rising in the world. Though he could neither read nor write, he was well aware that those acquirements were necessary for his advancement, as also that a decent suit of clothes would greatly contribute to his obtaining a respectable place. These objects were now within his reach. The most easily attained was the suit of clothes, and these he bought, with a cap and a good pair of shoes, at a slopseller's, including three shirts, a necktie, and other articles of clothing, for the moderate sum of 2 pounds, 13 shillings and 6 pence. He had taken good care not to let the slopseller know of his wealth; indeed, that fact he kept locked in his own bosom, as he did his purse in a place in which no one was likely to discover it. The balance of the ten pounds into which he had broken he expended in supporting himself while he acquired the first rudiments of knowledge, with the aid of a friend, the keeper of a second-hand bookstall, a broken-down schoolmaster, who, strange to say, still retained a pleasure in imparting instruction to the young. Nicholas Swab first bought a spelling-book, and then confessed that he should find it of no use unless Mr Vellum would explain to him the meaning of the black marks on the pages. "Then you do not know your letters, my poor boy?" said the old man in a tone of commiseration. "No, sir, I don't; but I soon will, if you'll tell them to me," answered Nicholas in a confident tone. "Sit down on that stool, and say them after me as I point them out to you," said Mr Vellum. With great patience he went over the alphabet again and again. "Now I want to put them together, sir," said Nicholas, not content with the extent of the first lesson. All day long he sat with the book before him, and then took it with him to his home. That home, the abode of his mother, a widow, with a pension of five shillings a week, which enabled her to live, although too small to afford subsistence to her son, was in a small garret up a dark stair in one of the poorest of the back streets of Liverpool. Nicholas set working away by the flame of a farthing rushlight, and at dawn he was up again poring over his book. Old Vellum was so pleased with the progress made by his pupil, that he continued to give him all the assistance in his power, not only teaching him to read but to write. In a few weeks young Nicholas could do both in a very creditable manner. Having thus gained the knowledge he desired, dressed in a decent suit of clothes, he went round to various offices in Liverpool offering to fill any vacant situation for which he might be considered fit. Although he met with numerous rebuffs, he persevered, and was finally taken into the small counting-house of which Mr Peter Crank's father was the head. To the firm, through all its various changes, he had remained attached, and though frequently offered opportunities of bettering himself, had refused to leave it. "No, no; I'll stick to my old friends," he always answered; "their interests are mine, and although I am but a poor clerk, I believe I can forward them." From the first, during all his leisure moments, of which he had not many, he continued to study hard, and to improve himself, spending a portion of his wages in books, which he obtained from Mr Vellum, who allowed him also the run of his library. He was raised from grade to grade until he became head clerk, and during the illness of Mr Crank and the absence of Mr Trunnion, he so well managed the affairs of the firm, that they felt bound to offer him a partnership in the business, to the success of which he had so greatly contributed. Notwithstanding his rise in the social circle, Nicholas Swab continued to be the same unostentatious, persevering, painstaking man which he had been from the first--upright in all his dealings, and generous to those who required a helping hand. Some of the transactions of the firm would not, it must be confessed, stand the test of the present code of morality. The slave trade had, until lately, been lawful, and the firm had engaged in it with as little hesitation as it would in any other mercantile business. It had been in the habit of buying negroes in the cheapest market, and disposing of them in the dearest, without for a moment considering how they were obtained. When the traffic was pronounced illegal, it withdrew its own vessels, but still had no hesitation in supplying the means for fitting out others which it knew were about to proceed to the African coast, although no particular inquiries were made on the subject. It was not very long before the time of which I speak that the fact dawned on the minds of the partners that the traffic was hateful in the sight of God, as well as in that of a large number of their countrymen, and that it was the main cause of the cruel wars and miseries unspeakable from which the dark-skinned children of Africa had long suffered. Being really conscientious men, they had agreed to abandon all connection with the traffic, and to employ their vessels in carrying on a lawful trade on the coast. To do this, however, was not at first so easy as might be supposed. One of the vessels especially, which they had contributed to fit out and to supply with goods, although not belonging to them, was commanded by Mr Trunnion's brother--a Captain Roderick Trunnion, of whose character I had heard from time to time mysterious hints thrown out not much to his credit. He occasionally made his appearance at Liverpool. He seemed to me to be a fine, bold, dashing fellow, ready to do and dare anything he might think fit. He was like several privateer captains I had met with, who set their own lives and those of their followers at slight value, provided they could carry out their undertakings. He gave, I believe, his brother, Mr Thomas Trunnion, the partner in our firm, considerable cause for anxiety and annoyance. The last time he had been on shore, in order to recover his brother's confidence he endeavoured to make himself agreeable to the other partners. Mr Swab, however, I know, did not trust him, as he privately told Harry Bracewell on one occasion. "And don't you," he added; "he is without principles; he always did what he chose regardless of God or man. And he doesn't believe in God, or that any man has a grain of honesty, nor does he, except when it suits him, boast of having any himself." Captain Trunnion, however, appeared to have insinuated himself into the good graces of our senior partner, at whose house he was a frequent visitor. He had a strong attraction there; for Lucy, Mr Crank's, only child, was a sweet, amiable, pretty girl, and Captain Trunnion believed that, could he win her, he should not only obtain a charming wife, but become possessed, some day or other, of Mr Crank's property. Which influenced him most I cannot say. All I know is, that he did not make any progress in the affections of Miss Lucy, for a very good reason, which he was not long in suspecting--that she had already given her heart to some one else. That some one was my friend Harry Bracewell Captain Trunnion had, however, gone away without suspecting who was his rival. My father and mother resided in Chester, so that I was received into the house, as a lodger, of Mrs Bracewell; thus it was that I became more intimate with Harry than I might otherwise have been. I also had an opportunity of being constantly in the society of the widow's only daughter, Mary--a charming little unaffected girl, full of life and spirits, who treated me as her brother's friend, almost like a brother. For a long time I also thought only of her as a sister, although, somehow or other, I began at last to entertain the hope that, when I had by steady industry obtained the means of making her my wife, she would not feel it necessary to refuse me; and as my family was a respectable one, I had no reason to fear that any objection would be raised by Mrs Bracewell or Harry. Of my own family I need not speak, except of one member--my brother Charley, who had gone to sea before I entered the office, and was now a midshipman of some years' standing. He had lately joined the "Rover" frigate, employed on the African station. Charley and I had been fast friends and companions, as brothers should be, when we were together, and when separated we constantly corresponded with each other. I cannot say that I had any special fondness for mercantile pursuits, or at all events for the work of an office, having to sit for ten or twelve hours of the day on a high stool at a desk, but yet I was thoroughly impressed with the fact that I must gain my own livelihood, and that by working hard alone could I expect to do so. Had the choice been given me, I should have preferred a life in the open air, with the opportunity of travelling about and seeing the world; but my father did not wish to have more than one son in the navy, and Charley had been devoted as an offering to Neptune. I was, however, very happy in my situation. Understanding what I was to do, I took a pleasure in doing it well; and I spent my evenings happily in the society of Mrs Bracewell and her son and daughter. We had generally music and singing, now and then two or three visitors. Occasionally we went out to Mr Crank's parties and those of other friends, so that our lives were in no respects dull. I enter into these details in order that more interest may be taken in the rest of my narrative than might otherwise have been the case. About an hour after Harry had reported the arrival of the vessel, as I was engaged in Mr Trunnion's private room in taking down letters at his dictation, the mate of the "Arrow" was announced. As Mr Crank was out, Mr Trunnion desired him to come in and give an account of his voyage. As I was not desired to quit the room, I continued transcribing the notes which I had taken down, but I glanced round at the mate as he entered. His appearance showed that he had suffered from the fever which had carried off so many of his shipmates. His cheek was pale and hollow, his eye dull, and his figure emaciated; even his voice sounded weak and hollow. "Sit down," said Mr Trunnion in a kind voice, showing that he was struck by the sickly look of the poor mate. "I should like to hear full particulars of your voyage. It has been a successful one judging by the manifest, which I have been looking over, although fatal to so many long in our employment. You have managed well, too, in bringing home the `Arrow.' We are well satisfied--I can tell you that at once." The mate then began an account of the transactions connected with the vessel from the time of her arrival on the Coast of Africa, the number of places visited, and the trade transactions at each. They were very interesting to me I know at the time, but I did not note them. Mr Magor then described how one after the other the captain and crew died, until he and three others were alone left. "I doubted indeed whether I should have been able to bring the vessel home," he continued. "We had a narrow escape of being captured by a picarooning craft which swept alongside us during a calm. A number of the crew, headed by their captain, had actually made their way on board, and having bound me and three of my men, were proceeding to get off the hatches to take the cargo out of the hold, when a man-of-war, bringing up a strong breeze from the south, hove in sight. The pirates on discovering her hurried on board their own craft, carrying away two of my Kroomen, and casting off the grapplings with which they had made her fast alongside, got out their long sweeps and pulled away for their lives. As soon as the remaining Kroomen had set me and the other white men free, we ran out our guns and began firing at her. She returned our shot; and as she had more guns and heavier metal than ours, we judged it prudent not to follow her. When the breeze came, which it did soon afterwards, she stood away under all sail before the wind. She showed that she was a fast craft, for she had almost got out of sight before the man-of-war came up with us. The latter pursued her, but whether she was overtaken or not I cannot say, as we continued our voyage towards England, and I saw no more of either of them. The pirates who had boarded us were of all nations, Spaniards, Portuguese, and French, and there were several Englishmen among them. That their leader was one I could swear, for I heard him speaking English to several of the villains; and what is more, as he gave me a good opportunity of marking his features while I was bound to the mainmast, I should remember him were I ever to meet him again." "I hope that you may never fall in with him again under similar circumstances," remarked Mr Trunnion. "Should you do so, he will probably make you walk the plank before he begins discharging your cargo into his own craft." While the mate was narrating his adventures I heard a strange race speaking in an authoritative tone in the outer office. Suddenly the door was burst open, and a tall powerful man, dressed in riding-boots, his clothes bespattered with mud, yet having in other respects a nautical cut about him, entered the room. Mr Trunnion gazed on him without speaking. "What, Tom! don't you know me?" exclaimed the new-comer advancing and putting out his hand. "My beard has grown, and I have become somewhat sunburnt since we parted." "Bless my heart! is it you, Roderick?" exclaimed Mr Trunnion. "I own that I did not recognise you, and was surprised at the intrusion of a stranger." Roderick Trunnion, giving a laugh, threw himself into a chair opposite his brother, who reassumed his usual cold and dignified demeanour as he took his seat. From my desk I could observe what was going forward. I saw the mate start and narrowly scan the countenance of the new-comer with a look of extreme astonishment, while the latter, who did not appear to remark him, leaned forward and gazed at his brother, whose manner seemed to irritate him. "Where in the world have you come from, Roderick?" asked Mr Trunnion. "From Falmouth last, where I left the `Vulture' to refit. We met with a somewhat heavy gale, in which she was fearfully knocked about, and had we not kept the pumps going she would have foundered to a certainty. As I wanted to see you and other friends; I took horse and rode night and day to get here. The business I have got to speak of brooks of no delay, and is such as you and I can talk about best alone." Turning round as he spoke, he cast a glance at Mr Magor. For a moment, it seemed to me that his eye appeared to quail, but he quickly recovered himself. "Have you finished your business here?" he asked in a bold tone, looking at the mate. "If so, you will leave me and your employer alone--for I presume that you are the master of one of his vessels. And that youngster--you do not wish him to take down our conversation, I suppose," he added, first looking at me then round at his brother. "Really, Roderick, you have been so accustomed to command, that you forget that you are not on your own quarter-deck," observed Mr Trunnion, who was evidently annoyed at the authoritative tone assumed by his brother. The mate rose and looked first at Mr Trunnion then at Captain Roderick. "I have met that man before," he said, "and it is my duty to tell you when and how it was. It was not long ago, on the high seas, when he boarded the `Arrow' at the head of--" Mr Trunnion, as the mate spoke, looked very much agitated, and I naturally fancied that something extraordinary was about to be said. Captain Roderick alone appeared perfectly cool. Fixing his glance on the mate, he exclaimed in a loud tone, interrupting him-- "You, my good fellow, may have met me half-a-dozen times for what I know to the contrary, or half-a-dozen men whom you may mistake for me, although I cannot say that I ever set eyes on you before. However, go on and tell Mr Trunnion what I did when you fancy that you saw me, and I shall then know whether you are mistaken as to my identity." The mate looked greatly confused. "I can only hope that I am mistaken, and unless Mr Trunnion desires me, I shall decline at present stating where, as I believe, I last saw you." Mr Trunnion was silent for a minute, and seemed lost in thought. Suddenly looking up he said-- "You have been suffering from fever, Mr Magor, and your recollection of events, very naturally, is somewhat clouded. A few weeks' quiet and rest will restore your health. I would advise you not to repeat what you have just said. I'll send on board and relieve you of charge of the brig as soon as possible, and you can go to your friends in the country." Mr Magor, making a nautical bow to Mr Trunnion, and giving another glance towards Captain Roderick, left the room. "Westerton," continued my employer, turning to me, "you have heard all that has been said, and if it were repeated, although the poor man is under an hallucination, it might be the cause of disagreeable reports. You are discreet, I can trust you. Let not a word on the subject escape your lips. You can now go and finish those letters at your own desk." I did as I was ordered, and gathering up the papers, followed the mate out of the room, leaving the two brothers together. What followed, I of course cannot say. For an hour or more they were closeted together. At last Captain Roderick came out, and returned to the inn where he had put up his horse. All I know is, that Mr Trunnion did not invite him to his house. It seemed to me suspicious, and I could not help thinking about the matter, and wished that I could have consulted Harry Bracewell. Two evenings afterwards we went to a party at the house of Mr Crank. Shortly after we arrived, who should walk in but Captain Roderick. By the way Mr Crank and Lucy received him, I felt convinced that Mr Trunnion had said nothing to prejudice the senior partner against him. He made himself at home as usual, treating Miss Lucy with great deference, and it seemed to me that he was gaining ground in her good graces. His appearance was greatly improved since the day I had seen him in the counting-house. His face was carefully shaved, and his dress was such as to set off his well-made active figure. His aim was evidently to play the agreeable, not only to the young lady of the house, but to all the ladies present, and with some--especially with the dowagers--he appeared to be as successful as he could desire. He cast an indifferent glance now and then at me, as if he had never set eyes on me before, and appeared perfectly unconscious of the accusation--for such I considered it--brought against him by Mr Magor. When I observed his apparent success with Lucy Crank, I felt a greater desire than ever to tell Harry what I had heard, and to advise him to warn her and her father of what I believed to be the real character of the man. His brother, I supposed, from fraternal affection of family pride, had said nothing to his senior partner to warn him, and, of course, even to Harry I could not venture to say what I thought about Captain Trunnion. I could only hope that Lucy would remain as indifferent to him as she had always before appeared to be, and that he would quickly again return to the "Vulture." I was surprised, indeed, that he had ventured to be so long absent from his vessel, as his presence would be necessary while she was refitting. Perhaps, after all, his statements about her might not be true; she might not even be at Falmouth, although his mud-bespattered appearance on his arrival showed that he had ridden a long distance. CHAPTER TWO. CAPTAIN TRUNNION APPEARS OPENLY AT LIVERPOOL--HIS ATTENTIONS TO LUCY CRANK--HER AFFECTION FOR HARRY BRACEWELL--CAPTAIN TRUNNION EXHIBITS HIS JEALOUSY OF HARRY--SUSPECTING THE CAPTAIN'S EVIL INTENTIONS, I WATCH OVER HARRY--GODFREY MAGOR PLACED IN COMMAND OF THE "ARROW"--HARRY AND I APPOINTED SUPERCARGOES--ATTEND TO THE STOWAGE OF THE VESSEL--PREPARE FOR SAILING--FAREWELL TO LOVED ONES--VOYAGE COMMENCED. Notwithstanding the very grave suspicion cast on him by the mate of the "Arrow," Captain Roderick Trunnion did not immediately quit Liverpool, as I supposed he would have done. He was, as far as I could judge, not on friendly terms with his brother, as he lived at an inn, although there was ample room for him at Mr Trunnion's house, where he seldom went, nor did he again appear at the office. I met him, however, frequently walking about Liverpool, dressed in shoregoing clothes, booted and spurred, and carrying a riding-whip in his hand. Notwithstanding, I should have known him at a glance to be a seaman. I found also that he very frequently called at Mr Crank's residence at times when he well knew that the old gentleman would be at his counting-house. I did not suppose, however, that he received any encouragement from Miss Lucy, but he always had some excuse for paying a visit, either to show some curiosity which he said he had brought from abroad, or to leave a book or other articles which he had obtained for her. The fact was, that he had got into the good graces of Miss Deborah Crank, Mr Crank's maiden sister, who resided with him to look after Miss Lucy and keep his house in order. I met the Captain there at two or three evening parties to which the Bracewells and I were invited, and on each occasion he was evidently paying court to the young lady. When not with her, he was making himself agreeable to Miss Deborah. Harry appeared to be in no way jealous or unhappy, which he would have been had he thought that Captain Roderick had the slightest chance of success. "We understand each other," he said, "and she has assured me that she does not like him, though she cannot be rude to him while her father and aunt invite him to the house." I did not like to make Harry unhappy by saying that I was not quite so certain about the matter as he was; at the same time I longed to be able to warn Miss Lucy of the character of the roan. What surprised me was that Mr Trunnion should not have spoken to Mr Crank, or that the latter should not have thought it strange that Captain Roderick never came to the counting-house. Probably Mr Trunnion was influenced by fraternal feelings in not warning his partner of his suspicions regarding his brother's character. I did not, however, long entertain fears of Miss Lucy's affection for Harry, from a circumstance which he told me. It was a holiday, and he had arranged to accompany her and her aunt on a visit to some friends in the country. The coach was at the door waiting for Miss Deborah, who was upstairs, not yet having finished her toilet, while Lucy, who had finished dressing, was seated in the drawing-room with Harry by her side. Suddenly the door opened, the young people expecting to see Miss Deborah enter. What, therefore, was their surprise when Captain Roderick talked into the room. He stood for a moment gazing fiercely at Harry. "What business have you here?" he exclaimed in a voice hoarse with passion. Harry wisely did not answer him; but Lucy, looking up and holding Harry's hand, said quietly-- "Mr Bracewell has come to escort my aunt and me into the country, and I have good reason for the annoyance I feel at the question you have put to him. My father is from home and will not return for some time, so I cannot invite you to wait for him." Captain Roderick was not a man to be abashed even by the way Miss Lucy had addressed him. Taking a turn or two in the room, he waited--so Harry thought--expecting Miss Deborah to come down-stairs and invite him to accompany them. Lucy, suspecting his purpose, took Harry's arm and whispered, "Let us go down to the carriage." Miss Deborah, happening to look out of her window, saw them get in, and being just then ready, she joined them without going into the drawing-room. Lucy, with much presence of mind, just before the carriage drove off, desired the servant, in a low voice which her aunt did not hear, to see Captain Roderick out of the house. Whatever Captain Roderick might before have supposed, he now discovered to a certainty that Harry Bracewell was his rival. When I heard the account just given, believing that the mate was right in his suspicions, I felt sure that, should he have an opportunity, he would revenge himself on my friend. I told Harry all I could to warn him. I said that I believed Captain Roderick was a bad, unprincipled man, whom no fear of consequences or any right feeling would restrain from committing an act of violence if he thought that it would further his object. Harry merely laughed, and observed, "When he finds that he has no chance of cutting me out he'll take himself off. I should think his brother, who is so strict and correct in his conduct, would be very glad to get him away from Liverpool." Knowing what dreadful deeds had been done by men of ill-regulated minds influenced by jealousy, I felt seriously anxious about Harry, lest Captain Roderick should find means to revenge himself. Had I been able to explain the cause of the dread I had of him I might have convinced Harry of his danger, and induced him to be careful when going abroad at night; but I could only tell him that I suspected the man, and that I did not like him: Harry, however, though he had a true regard for me, either thought that I was mistaken or needlessly alarmed. Sometimes I thought of telling my fears to Mr Trunnion, and asking permission from him to warn Harry Bracewell; but I knew that he would feel highly offended were I to speak on the subject to him. I therefore, whenever Harry went out, made some excuse for accompanying him, especially when he went to Mr Crank's house. On those occasions, instead of going in, I used to walk about in the neighbourhood, or sit down in an archway where the dark shadow concealed me from the view of passers-by. On two different evenings I saw a person pass whom I felt sure by his figure was Captain Roderick. The second time, when he stopped before Mr Crank's house, the light of the moon falling on his face revealed his features to me, and convinced me that I was not mistaken. He was dressed as I first saw him at the counting-house, and he had a hanger by his side, and a brace of pistols in his belt, with a pair of riding-boots on, as if prepared for a journey. Fearing that Harry might come out, and that his rival might attack him, I went up as if I was going to knock at the door; instead of which I stood in the porch, where, concealed, I could watch Captain Roderick. Perhaps he suspected that I had recognised him; for after waiting a minute, and looking up at the windows, he moved away, and I lost sight of him. I waited until Harry came out, and then taking his arm, I hurried him along in an opposite direction to that which he would naturally have followed as the shortest way home. "Why are you going by this road?" he asked. "I will tell you presently," I answered, continuing at a quick pace. "Don't ask questions just now, for I really cannot answer you." Harry did as I wished, and we therefore exchanged few word until we reached home. "Now," I said, "I will tell you. I am confident that Captain Roderick was waylaying you, and would either have sought a quarrel, or perhaps have cut you down with his hanger, or shot you." Harry was at length inclined to believe that I was right, but still he added, "Perhaps, after all, he maybe going away, and only came to take a last look at the house where Lucy lives; for, from what she tells me he said to her, I cannot help thinking that he must be desperately enamoured." "If he does go, well and good; but if he remains, I tell you, Harry, that I do not consider your life safe," I remarked. "I must beg your mother and sister to lock you up, and not let you go out at night until the fellow has gone. He is a villain!" I repeated, in my eagerness almost revealing what I was bound to keep secret. After this I saw no more of Captain Roderick. Whether or not he had left Liverpool I was uncertain, but I hoped he had gone. A few days afterwards, Mr Magor, the mate of the "Arrow," came to the office, where he was received in a very friendly way by Mr Swab. He looked completely changed. The sickly hue had left his cheek, and he was stout and hearty, with the independent bearing of a seaman. "I am glad to see you looking so well, Mr Magor," said Mr Swab. "My partners and I have been talking the matter over; and from the way you brought the `Arrow' home, and the character you received from her late master, we are resolved to offer you the command." "Thank you, sir. I am proud of your approval; and I may venture to say, as far as navigating a vessel, or handling her in fine weather or foul, I am as competent as most men. I cannot boast, however, of my abilities as a trader, as I am no hand at keeping accounts. In that respect, I do not think that I should do you Justice." "Well, well, Captain Magor; we cannot always expect to find a man like Captain Rig, who combined both qualifications. We must therefore send a supercargo, or perhaps two, to help you; and I hope, with their assistance, that you will not be compelled to remain long up any of the rivers, and run the risk of losing your own life or of having your crew cut off by fever. You must try and be away from the coast before the sickly season sets in. It is by remaining up the rivers during the rains and hot weather that so many people die." "As to the hot weather, I don't know when it is not hot on the coast," observed Captain Magor, for so in future I may call him; "but I am ready to brave any season in your service. And I again thank you, sir, for the offer you make me, which I gladly accept, provided you supply me with the assistance you see I require." "We will try to do that," said Mr Swab. "Now, without loss of time, look out for a couple of good men as mates, and the best crew you can obtain, and get the vessel fitted out without delay. I will accompany you on board and place you in command." This was said in the outer office, where Henry and I overheard it. "I wonder to whom they will offer the berths," said Harry to me. "If I thought that it would advance me in the house, and enable me the sooner to speak to Mr Crank, I for one should be ready to accept an offer, although it would be a sore trial to go away. I had never dreamed of doing so; but yet, if I was asked, I would not refuse, as, of course, it could not fail to give one a lift; whereas, should I refuse, I should fall in the estimation of the partners." The very next day Mr Crank desired Harry and me to come into his inner room, and he then told us, what we already knew, that the firm intended to send out two supercargoes, who might assist each other, and asked if we would go, promising us each a share in the profits of the voyage, and advancement in the house on our return. "I do not hide from you that there is danger from the climate, and in some places from the natives; but the vessel will be well armed, and you must exert all the judgment and discretion you possess. You are both young and strong, and have never tampered with your constitutions, so that you are less likely to succumb to the climate than the generality of seamen." He then entered fully into the subject, telling us how to act under various circumstances, and giving us full directions for our guidance. We did not appear very elated at the offer, but accepted it, provided Harry's mother and my parents did not object. "Tell them all I have said," observed Mr Crank, "and let me know to-morrow, that should you refuse our offer I may look out for two other young men who have no family ties to prevent them from going. Our interests should, I think, be considered in the matter." I judged by the tone of the senior partner's voice that he would be offended should we refuse his offer, and we therefore made up our minds to press the matter with those who had to decide for us. Of course we talked it over as we walked home that evening. We both fancied that we should be absent little more than five months, and that we should come back with our purses well filled, or, at all events, with the means of filling them. Mrs Bracewell and Mary were very unhappy when Harry placed the state of the case before them; but they acknowledged that he ought to act as the firm wished. My parents, to whom I wrote, expressed themselves much in the same way, only entreating that I would come and pay them a visit before starting. As soon as I received their letter I placed it in the hands of Mr Crank, who seemed well pleased. "You will not have cause to regret going, as far as we are concerned," he observed; "as for the rest, we must leave that to Providence." Harry and I had, of course, been very often on board vessels, and made several trips down the Mersey, returning in the pilot-boat, but neither of us had ever been at sea. It was necessary that we should both see the cargo stowed, and be acquainted with the contents of every bale. As soon as it was stowed the brig would sail. I therefore hastened over to the neighbourhood of Chester to pay my promised visit to my family. "I shall be gone only five or six months," I said cheerfully, fully believing that such would be the case. "I will take good care of myself, depend upon that. I won't trust the black fellows, and will never sleep on shore." On my return I found the vessel nearly ready to take in cargo. Harry and I were employed from morning until night in the warehouse, examining and noting the goods. We then both went on board, one remaining on deck to book them as they were hoisted in, the other going below to see them stowed away, so that we might know where each bale and package was to be found. Captain Magor was also on board assisting us, as were his two mates, Tom Sherwin and Ned Capstick, both rough, honest hands, as far as I could judge, who had been chosen by the master simply because they were good seamen and bold fellows in whom he could trust. While we stood by, notebooks in hand, it was their business to stow away the various packages; and as we were together many hours every day, we became pretty well acquainted before we sailed. We had a few hours left after the cargo was on board and the hatches fastened down. I should have said I had made all the inquiries I could for Captain Roderick, but could hear nothing of him, nor did he ever come near Mr Crank's house after he knew I saw him waiting at the door. I had another reason for supposing that he had gone. Mr Trunnion had regained his usual spirits, and looked as cheerful as he did before his brother's appearance. "You have acted discreetly, Westerton," said Mr Trunnion to me one day when I was alone with him in his private room. "Whether Captain Magor was right or not in the fearful accusation he brought against that unhappy man. I know not. The `Vulture' has, I trust, long since sailed. I wish you to understand that, although she was once our vessel, she does not now belong to us, and I need not say how I fear she is employed." I was pleased to receive this commendation from my principal. I merely replied that I hoped to be always able to give him satisfaction in whatever way he might be pleased to employ me. He shook hands with me warmly on parting. "You will receive full written directions from the firm for your guidance while on the coast, and I hope that we shall see you and Bracewell back again well and hearty in a few months with a full cargo. I have great confidence in Captain Magor, into whose character, since he went to sea, we have made minute inquiries, and you will find him a bold and sagacious seaman, and an obliging and agreeable companion." Before I left the counting-house, Mr Swab called me into his little den, into which he was wont to retire whenever he had any private business to transact, although he generally sat in the outer office, that he might keep an eye on the clerks and see that there was no idling. "My dear boy," he said in a kind tone, "I have had a talk with Harry, and now I want to speak with you, and I'll say to you what I said to him: Work together with a will; do not let the slightest feeling of jealousy spring up between you, and give and take. If he is right one time, you'll be ready to follow him the next; while, if your opinion proves correct, he will be ready to follow you. I am sure you will both act as you consider best for the interest of the firm; and remember there is One above who sees you, and you must do nothing which He disapproves of--your conscience will tell you that. You are to be engaged in a lawful traffic. If carried on fairly, it must of necessity tend to advance the interest of the Africans. We did them harm enough formerly when we were engaged in the slave trade, although I for one didn't see it at the time, and was entirely ignorant of the horrors it inflicted on the unfortunate natives. If I thought at all, I thought they exchanged barbarism for civilisation; and what are called the horrors of the middle passage were not so great in those days as they are now, when the traffic has become unlawful. We had roomy vessels, the slaves were well-fed and looked after; and the master had no fear of being chased by a man-of-war, so that they could wait in harbour when the weather was threatening, and run across the Atlantic with a favourable breeze. You will very likely see something of the business, and hear more of it while you are up the rivers; but you must in no way interfere, either to help a slaver by supplying her with goods, provisions, or water, or by giving information to the man-of-war of her whereabouts, unless the question is asked, and you will then tell the truth. And now about your personal conduct. You must do all you can to keep your health. Be strictly sober. Do not expose yourself to the heat by day nor to the damp air by night, which is, I understand, more likely to prove injurious than even the sun's rays. Never lose your temper with the natives, or any one else, for that matter; and, from what I can learn, you are often likely to be tried. Many people fancy they show their spirit by losing their temper; in reality they always give an opponent an advantage over them, and the negroes are quick enough to perceive that. Do not imagine them fools because they do not understand your language. Indeed, I might say, as a golden rule, never hold too cheap the person with whom you are bargaining or an enemy with whom you are engaged in fighting. You will, of course, be very exact in all your accounts, and endeavour to obtain such information as you possibly can from all directions likely to prove of further use to the firm. Now, my dear boy, farewell. I pray that you and Harry may be protected from the dangers to which you will be exposed." The worthy man said much more to the same purpose. The "Arrow" had, in the meantime, hauled out into the stream, and Harry and I went on board that evening, as she was to sail at daybreak, the tide being fair, the next morning. Mrs Bracewell and Mary accompanied us, very naturally wishing to see the last of us; and just as we were setting out, Lucy Crank arrived, greatly to Harry's satisfaction. "Papa did not object to my going, and I thought that Mrs Bracewell and Mary would require some one to cheer them up," she said. Mrs Bracewell smiled, for Lucy did not look as if she was very well capable of doing that. She had evidently been crying, although she had done her best to dry her tears. Just as we were at the water's edge, Mr Swab joined us, remarking as he did so, "My partners are not able to come. I wanted to have a few more words with Captain Magor, so that I shall have the satisfaction of escorting you ladies back." I suspected that, in the kindness of his heart, the latter was his chief object. "Thank you," said Mrs Bracewell; "we shall be glad of your protection. We wish to see Harry's and Mr Westerton's cabin, and the brig, now that she is ready for sea, so that we may picture them to ourselves when they are far away." The evening was serene, the water smooth as glass, the slight breeze blowing down the river, being insufficient to enable us to stem the flood tide, which had then begun to make up, or we should at once have sailed. Boats were plying backwards and forwards between the shore and the various vessels which lay in that much-frequented river. Some, like the "Arrow," ready for sea; others only just arrived, or taking cargo on board from lighters. They were either bound to or had come from all parts of the world, the African traders perhaps predominating; but there were not a few either going to or coming from the West Indies, with which Liverpool had a considerable commerce. There were South Sea whalers, high black vessels, with boats hoisted up on either side, and fast-sailing craft running up the Mediterranean, besides innumerable coasters. Indeed, Liverpool had become a successful rival of Bristol, hitherto the chief commercial port of the kingdom. The ladies were well pleased with our little berths off the main cabin, for Captain Magor had done his best to make them comfortable. The cabin was well fitted, with a mahogany table, a sofa at the upper end, and two easy-chairs. A swinging lamp was suspended above us, while the bulkhead in the fore part was ornamented with muskets, pistols, and cutlasses ranged in symmetrical order. The brig carried seven guns, three on each side, and one long gun, which could be trained fore or aft to serve as a bow or stern chaser, while all told she had thirty hands, besides Harry and me; so that we were well able to cope with any ordinary enemy we were likely to meet with, either pirate or Frenchman, Spaniard or Hollander. The captain had prepared tea on board, or rather supper. Mr Swab did his best to keep up the spirits of the party--which poor Lucy certainly failed in doing--by telling stories or cracking jokes, though he soon gave up the attempt when he saw none of us responded. Indeed, I must confess that both his jokes and stories were stale, and it might be added "flat and unprofitable." They did not flow naturally from him. At length he discovered that the time was passing on; the shades of evening were already stealing over the broad surface of the magnificent stream. The boat belonging to the firm had hauled up alongside, and Harry and I helped the ladies into her, Mr Swab following, and giving each of us a hearty shake of the hand. As the boat rowed away they waved an adieu with their handkerchiefs, which before they were out of sight all three applied to their eyes, and even then I could distinguish Mr Swab frequently blowing his nose with his scarlet bandana. Neither Harry nor I slept very soundly; we had too much to think about to allow "nature's soft nurse," as the poet calls it, to visit our eyelids. The boatswain's call roused up all hands. Quickly dressing, we were on deck. The dawn was just breaking in the eastern sky, from which direction there came a gentle breeze. The pilot was on board, the anchor hove up, the tide was making down, sail after sail was set, and just as there was light sufficient to enable us to see our way, the brig, under a cloud of white canvas, was standing down the Mersey. "God bless you all! A prosperous voyage, and a safe and happy return!" was uttered by the pilot, as, having seen us clear of the sandbanks at the mouth of the river, he lowered himself into his boat and paddled off to his cutter, which had accompanied us. We were now left to our own resources, and before evening we were standing down the Irish Channel with a brisk breeze on the larboard tack. CHAPTER THREE. MY SHIPMATES--TOM TUBBS THE BOATSWAIN--SIGHT A SUSPICIOUS CRAFT--ALTER OUR COURSE TO AVOID HER--CHASED--A HEAVY SQUALL--A THICK MIST--WE HOPE TO ESCAPE--THE STRANGER REAPPEARS--NIGHT COMES ON AND WE LOW SIGHT OF HER--ONCE MORE THE STRANGER IS SEEN IN HOT CHASE--OPENS FIRE--DESPERATE FIGHT--WE ATTEMPT TO RAKE THE ENEMY--HE FRUSTRATES IT--THE ENEMY HOISTS THE PIRATE FLAG--BOARDS US--OUR CREW OVERCOME--THE CAPTAIN AND BOATSWAIN, HARRY AND I, FIGHT DESPERATELY--CAPTAIN TRUNNION APPEARS-- SPARES OUR LIVES--DREADFUL STATE OF THE DECK--TOM, HARRY, AND I TAKEN ON BOARD THE "VULTURE"--CAPTAIN MAGOR ORDERED TO NAVIGATE THE "ARROW" INTO THE SHERBRO--THE VESSELS PART COMPANY. Harry and I soon got our sea-legs, for although when we sailed the weather was fine, before we were well clear of the Irish Channel it began to blow fresh, and a heavy sea ran, which tumbled the vessel about not a little. We both quickly made the acquaintance of the officers and crew, for we did not consider it beneath our dignity as supercargoes to talk to our ship mates of lower rank. We were well repaid by the confidence they bestowed upon us, and the histories of their lives and adventures which they narrated. Although rough in their ways, they possessed many of the best qualities in human nature. The mates were, as I before said, good steady men, fair navigators, who could be trusted on all occasions, and had been chosen for these qualifications by Captain Magor, to whom they had long been known. Our chief friend was Tom Tubbs, the boatswain. Tom would have risen to a higher rank, but he was destitute of the accomplishments of reading and writing, though having to some purpose studied the book of nature, he possessed more useful knowledge than many of his fellow-men. He, like Tom Bowling, was the darling of the crew; for although he wielded his authority with a taut hand, he could be lenient when he thought it advisable, and was ever ready to do a kind action to any of his shipmates. He could always get them to do anything he wanted; for, instead of swearing at them, he used endearing expressions, such as "My loves," "My dear boys," "My charming lads." Thus, "My darlings," he would sing out, "be smart in handling that fore-topgallantsail," or "Take down two reefs in the topsails, my cherubs," or when setting studding-sails, he would sing out, "Haul away, my angels," or again, when shortening sail, "Clew up-- haul down, my lovely dears." He varied his expressions, however, according to the urgency of the case. If more speed was required, the more endearing were his words. I won't undertake to say that he did not sometimes rap out words of a very different signification, but that was only in extreme cases, when all others seemed to fail, or he had exhausted his vocabulary; but the men did not mind it a bit, for it only showed them that they must exert all their strength and activity if the masts were to be saved or the ship preserved from capsizing, or any other catastrophe prevented. The men were well aware of the motive which induced him to use strong expressions. We had two black men, who, having long served on board merchant vessels, spoke English pretty well. One of them, called Quambo, acted as steward; the other, Sambo, being ship's cook, spent a good portion of his time in the caboose, from which he carried on a conversation on either side with the men who happened to be congregated there. He, as well as Quambo, had to do duty as a seaman, and active fellows they were, as good hands as any of the crew. Sambo, besides his other accomplishments, could play the fiddle, and in calm weather the merry tones of his instrument would set all the crew dancing, making even Tom Tubbs shuffle about out of sight of the officers; for it would have been derogatory, he considered, to have been seen thus conducting himself in public. We had an Irishman, a Scotchman, three Finns, and a Portuguese, who was generally known as "Portinggall." The captain and the rest were Englishmen, two of whom had seen better days. One had been a schoolmaster and the other a lawyer's clerk. There was also a runaway from home of gentle birth, but who had so long mixed with rough characters, that not a trace of the good manners he once possessed remained by him. We had got into the latitude of the Cape de Verde islands, and were looking out for the African coast, the wind being about east, when about two hours after noon the look-out at the masthead shouted, "A sail in sight on the larboard bow." On hearing this, the first mate, with a glass slung over his shoulder, went aloft to have a look at the stranger. He was sometime there, and when he returned on deck I thought by his countenance that he did not like her appearance. "She's ship rigged, going free, and standing this way, sir," he said to the captain; "and if we keep on our present course she will be within hail of us within a couple of hours at furthest. She may be a man-of-war cruiser, or an enemy's privateer, or an honest trader; but were she that, I don't see why she should be standing this way, unless she thinks the wind will shift, and she wishes to get a good offing from Cape de Verde. Or else she may be one of the picarooning craft which we have heard of on this coast, although it has never been my ill luck to fall in with them." "But it has been mine; and though I had the good fortune to get clear of the rascal, I never wish to meet with one of her class again; and so, in case yonder craft should be of that character, or an enemy's privateer, we shall do well to stand clear of her," said Captain Magor; "and although we may lose a day or two, that will be better than running the risk of being captured or sent to the bottom. All hands make sail--up with the helm--square away the yards. Rig out the studding-sail booms, Mr Sherwin," he added, addressing the first mate as soon as the ship was before the wind. The boatswain sounded his whistle. "Be smart there, my sweet lads," he cried out. "Haul away, my lovely cherubs, on the starboard studding-sail halyards. Belay all that, my charmers;" and so he went on whistling and shouting, until we had studding-sails extended below and aloft on either side, and both royals set, and were running along at the rate of some seven or eight knots an hour before a light breeze. Harry and I on all occasions lent a hand when we thought we could be of use, and Tom did not fail to bestow his approving remarks upon us. The first mate now went aloft to ascertain whether the stranger had again altered her course, or whether she was standing on as before, in which case we hoped to run her out of sight, when we could again haul on the wind. He remained some time aloft. When he came down he looked even grave than before. "It is as I feared, sir. The fellow has clapped on all sail and is standing after us. It is a question which has the fastest pair of heels. If we can keep well ahead until nightfall, we may then alter our course and get clear of her." "Perhaps, after all, she is only a British man-of-war, which takes us for a slaver, or perhaps for an enemy's cruiser; for the `Arrow,' I flatter myself, doesn't look like an ordinary trader," observed Captain Magor. "That may be, sir," answered the mate, "but we are doing the wisest thing to keep out of her way; and, as you said, it's better to do that and lose a day or two, than be snapped up by an enemy." The captain ordered all hands to remain on deck at their stations, ready to shorten sail at a moment's notice. I saw him frequently look astern, not so much at the stranger as at the appearance of the clouds. "Do you think she is coming up with us, Captain Magor?" I asked. "No doubt about that, though she is carrying less sail than we are. She has got a stronger breeze, and I am watching lest the wind should come down on us harder than our sticks can stand." A few minutes afterwards, as I moved to the fore part of the quarter-deck, where the boatswain was standing, the captain cried out, "All hands shorten sail!" In an instant Tom's whistle was at his mouth, and didn't he stamp and shout. "In with the studding-sails, my lovely lads; let fly topgallant sheets, my sweet angels. Haul down, trice up, my pretty boys." Though what between the orders issued by the captain and mates, and repeated by him, with the howling of the wind and the whistling of his shrill pipe, the rattling and creaking of the blocks, and the fluttering of the sails, it was difficult for ears unnautical to comprehend the actual words uttered. All to me seemed hubbub and confusion. The men flew here and there, some going aloft, while others came tramping along the deck with the ropes. Even Captain Magor and the mates were pulling and hauling. Harry and I caught hold of the ropes they gave us, and ran along with them to gather in the fluttering canvas, which seemed as if it would be blown to shreds before it could be secured. As it was, a fore-royal was carried away and a studding-sail boom was snapt off. Before we had time to stow the lighter canvas the squall came down thick and strong on us. The order was given to clew up the courses and take a reef in the topsails. The wind, though coming off the land, quickly beat the ocean into wild tossing waves, through which the brig dashed forward with lessened sail, yet still with increased speed. A thick misty appearance, caused by a fine impalpable sand brought off the land by the squall, soon hid the stranger from sight. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," observed the mate; "and I hope we shall be in luck, and get out of the way of that fellow; I don't like his looks, that I don't." What Captain Magor thought about the matter he did not say. He kept the brig away, running as before, which showed that he considered the stranger was still in pursuit of us. Harry and I looked out for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Perhaps the squall took her unawares and carried away her masts; if so, and she is an enemy, we may thank the wind for the service it has rendered us," observed the first mate. "There's little chance of that, I fear," said Captain Magor. "When it clears up again we shall see her all ataunto, or I am much mistaken." We all continued looking out anxiously over the taffrail, while the brig ploughed her way through the fast rising seas, which hissed and foamed around her. The captain paced the deck, now looking aft, now aloft, waiting for the moment when he could venture to make sail again. The men stood with their hands on the halyard, ready to hoist away at the expected order, for all on board knew the importance of keeping ahead of the stranger should she be what we suspected. Still the atmosphere remained charged with dust off the coast, which, as the rays of the sun fell upon it, assumed a yellowish hue. At any moment, however, it might dissolve, and already it had sunk lower than when it first came on. Before long we had evidence that the captain's surmise was correct, for just over the thick bank astern we caught sight through our glasses of a fine perpendicular line against the sky, which he asserted were the royal masts of the stranger, with the royals still furled. If he was right-- and of that there appeared little doubt--she must have gained rapidly on us. The best we could hope for was that the mist would continue until nightfall and shroud us from her sight. The setting sun, it should be understood, cast its light upon her masts, while ours were still in the shade. We were doomed, however, to disappointment; suddenly the mist cleared off, and the bright rays of the sun exposed to view the topsails and courses of our pursuer. "We may still keep ahead of her, and when night comes on give her the slip," observed Captain Magor; "if not, we will fight her. The men, I hope, will stand to their guns, and show that they are British seamen. It will be a disgrace to knock under to piratical villains, such as I fear are the crew of yonder craft." "The men are staunch, I'll answer for that," observed Mr Serwin. "Tubbs has had a talk with them to try their tempers, and he is as true a fellow as ever stepped." "That he is; and if you and I and the second mate should be killed, he will fight the ship as long as a stick is standing," answered the first mate, showing his appreciation of the boatswain's character. Harry and I, as we walked the deck, agreed that we would fight to the last, though we heartily wished that we might escape the stern necessity. Before long the captain shouted-- "Shake out the reefs in the fore-topsail, my lads." The topmen flew aloft and the sail was hoisted. Soon afterwards the captain gave the order to set the fore-topgallantsail. "We must get preventer braces on it," he observed to the first mate; "it won't do to run the risk of carrying away the spar." The additional ropes were quickly secured by the active crew. As they stood aft watching the sail, it seemed as if at any moment it would carry away the mast and spar, as, bulging out with the strong breeze, it strained and tugged in its efforts to free itself, but the sticks were tough and the ropes which held them sound, and with increased speed the brig flew before the gale. Two of the best hands were at the wheel, for any carelessness in steering might in an instant have produced a serious disaster. The effects of the additional sail were satisfactory, as the stranger was no longer gaining on us, as she had hitherto done. Still, as I felt the violent blows given by the seas, now on one quarter, now on the other, the brig now pitching into a hollow ahead, now rising rapidly over another sea, then rolling from side to side, I feared that the masts must be jerked out of her. Harry and I found it scarcely possible to walk the deck without being tossed about like shuttlecocks, so that our only resource was to hold fast to the stanchions, or, when we wanted to move, to catch hold of the bulwarks. As night approached, however, the wind began to decrease, and the sea, having no great distance to run, went down. Whether this was likely to be an advantage to us or not was now to be proved. As the last rays of the sun ere he set glanced horizontally across the ocean, they fell on the stranger's canvas down to the foot of her courses. Still our stout-hearted captain did not despair. "We will do what we can to give the fellow the go-by, and may outwit him, clever as he thinks himself," he said, laughing. "Aloft there, and set the fore-royal," he shouted; and this being done, the foretopmast studding-sails were again rigged out, thus exhibiting a broad sheet of canvas to the eyes of our pursuer, which would probably make him suppose that we intended to continue our course directly before the wind. The sun had now sunk, but we could yet distinguish through the fast gathering gloom the sail astern. Captain Magor now ordered the mainsail to be hauled out, and the main-topsail and maintop-gallant-sail to be set. By the time this was done, not even the outlines of the stranger could be perceived astern. "Take in studdin'-sails," cried the captain. These by the united efforts of the crew, wildly fluttering, were hauled down without a spar being lost. The fore-royal was then furled. "Starboard the helm," was the next order given. "Haul on the starboard fore and main braces," he then sang out, and the brig was brought to the wind on the larboard tack. No sooner did she feel its power, as the yards were braced sharp up, the tacks hauled down, and the braces and bowlines sheeted home, than she heeled over to the force of the wind, which was still considerable, although it did not appear to when we were running before it. "If the stranger does not discover our change of course, she will be well away to leeward before morning, and we shall see no more of her," said Captain Magor, addressing Harry and me. "I don't want to expose the lives of you young gentlemen to danger, or to risk the loss of our cargo, I daresay you felt not a little anxious, but you may turn in and sleep soundly, with the prospect of making the coast of Africa in another day or two at furthest. We will have some food first though, for you have been on deck ever since dinner; you'll be hungry. Quambo!" he shouted, "let's have some supper on table as soon as possible." "Him dare 'ready, captain," answered the black steward, "only wait de young gen'lemen to cut him." The captain, leaving the deck in charge of the first mate, descended with us, and did ample justice to the plentiful meal Quambo had spread on the table. The captain, before going on deck again, advised us to turn in. We were, however, too anxious to do so, notwithstanding his assertions that all was likely to go well, and we therefore soon joined him on deck. We found him looking out over the larboard quarter, the direction in which the stranger was most likely to be seen. Although we swept the ocean with our glasses round two-thirds of the horizon, she was nowhere visible. At length, trusting that the captain really was right, with our minds tolerably relieved, we went below and turned into our berths. Still, though I slept, I could not get the thought of the pirate out of my mind. I dreamed that I was again on deck, and that I saw our pursuer, like some monster of the deep, her canvas towering high above our own towards the sky, close to us. Then she poured forth her broadsides, her shot with a crashing, rending sound passing across our deck. Still we remained unharmed, and I heard the captain say, "Give it them again, my lads--give it them again." Our crew sprung to their guns; but there came another broadside from the enemy which carried away our masts and spars, pierced our bulwarks, knocking our boats to pieces. Still Harry and I stood on deck uninjured, and our crew appeared is undaunted and active as before. I have often heard of people "fighting their battles o'er again;" but in this instance I fought mine before it occurred. I was awakened by the stamping sound of the feet of the watch overhead as they ran along with the halyards; then came the cry, "All hands on deck." I jumped out of my berth, and found Harry slipping into his clothes. No one else was in the cabin. We hurried on deck, where the officers and the watch below with the idlers had assembled. I was surprised to find the brig once more before the wind and the crew engaged in making all sail. The captain was standing aft issuing his orders, while the mates and boatswain were aiding the men in pulling and hauling. We joined them without asking questions. Some of the crew were aloft setting the top-gallant-sails and royals. I wondered why this was done, but there was no time to ask questions. At last, all the sail the brig could carry was set. I then, having nothing further to do, went aft and asked the captain the reason of the change of course. "If you look astern you will see it," he said. Shading my eyes with my hand, I gazed into the darkness, and there I at length discovered what the more practised eyes of the captain had long seen--the shadowy form of the stranger coming up under all sail towards us. "You see now why we have kept away," observed the captain. "Before the wind is our fastest point of sailing, and I wish that we had kept on it from the first. That fellow out there must have hauled his wind soon after we lost sight of him." "Do you think she will come up with us?" I asked. "There is a great likelihood that she will," answered the captain; "but a stern chase is a long chase, as every one knows. Perhaps we may fall in with a man-of-war cruiser, when the tables will be turned; if not, as I said before, we must fight her." "With all my heart," I answered; and Harry echoed my words. The stranger had by this time approached much nearer to us than before, or we should have been unable to see her. We could thus no longer hope for an opportunity of escaping by altering our course. "It is my duty to stand on as long as I can, to give ourselves every chance of meeting with another craft, which may take a part in the game," observed the captain. "At all events, it will be daylight before we get within range of her guns, and you young gentlemen may as well turn in in the meantime and finish your night's rest." Neither I nor Harry had any inclination, however, to do this. The dream I had had still haunted my imagination, and I felt pretty sure that were I to go to sleep it would come back as vividly as before. Stepping into the waist, I found Mr Tubbs, the boatswain. "Well, Tom, what do you think about the matter?" I asked. "Shall we have a brush with yonder craft which seems so anxious to make our acquaintance?" "No doubt about it, Mr Westerton, and more than a brush too, I suspect. That ship out there is a big fellow, and will prove a tough customer. We shall have to show the stuff we are made of, and fight hard to beat him off. I don't say but that we shall do it, but it will cost us dearly; for his people, we may be sure, know how to handle their guns; and from the height of his canvas I should say that he was twice our size, and probably carries double as many guns as we do, and musters three or four times more men." "Then I'm afraid that we shall have but a poor chance of beating him off," I observed. "There are always chances in war, and one of them may be in our favour; so it is our business to fight hard to the end. A happy shot may knock away his masts and render him helpless, or enter his magazine and blow him up; or we may send half a dozen of our pills between wind and water, and compel him to keep all hands at the pumps, so that he will have no time to look after us." "But the same may happen to us," observed Harry. "Granted; those belong to the chances of war," answered Tom. "I was only speaking of those in our favour. We must not think of the others; if the worst comes to the worst, we can but go to the bottom with our colours flying, as many pretty men have had to do before." On the whole, Tom's remarks did not greatly increase our spirits. Harry and I walked aft together. "One of us may fall, Dick," said Harry to me in a grave tone. "If I do, you will carry my last fond love to my mother and sister and poor Lucy, and say that my last thoughts were about them." "That I will," I answered. "And should I fall and you escape, you will see my parents, and tell your mother and sister Mary how to the last moment of my life I thought of them--how grateful I am for all their kindness to me." The expressions we exchanged were but natural to young men who were about to engage for the first time in their lives in a desperate battle--for desperate we knew it must be, even should we come off victorious, if the stranger astern was, as we supposed, a pirate. We paced the deck together. The suspense we were doomed to undergo was more trying than when we were engaged in making or shortening sail, and the gale was blowing and the vessel tumbling about. Now we were gliding calmly on, with nothing to do except occasionally to take a look astern at our expected enemy. I began to long for daylight, and wished even to see the stranger come up within shot, so that we might ascertain to a certainty her true character. At length a ruddy glow appeared beyond her in the east, gradually increasing in depth and brightness until the whole sky was suffused with an orange tint, and the sun, like a vast ball of fire, rose rapidly above the horizon, forming a glowing background to the sails of our pursuer, who came gliding along over the shining ocean towards us. Already she was almost within range of our long gun, which the captain now ordered to be trained aft through one of the stern-ports. The gun was loaded and run out. "Shall I fire, sir?" asked Tom Tubbs, who acted as gunner as well as boatswain, running his eye along the piece. "Not until we can see her flag," answered the captain; "she may, after all, be a man-of-war. If we fire she may take us for a pirate, and we should get small credit for our bravery. We shall see her colours presently if she yaws to fire at us. Wait until I give the word." In the meantime the magazine had been opened and powder and shot brought up on deck; the guns were loaded and run out, the arm-chest was also got up, and Harry and I, as did all on board, girded hangers to our sides and thrust pistols into our belts. The captain shortly afterwards issued the order for all hands to be ready to shorten sail as soon as no chance remained of escaping without fighting. Even now there was a hope that we might get away, or that the stranger might after all prove a friend instead of a foe; every rope was therefore kept belayed. "Long Tom," as the boatswain called his gun, was run out, it should be understood, under the poop on which Harry and I stood. The captain had taken his post near the mizen rigging, so that he could see all parts alike, and his voice could be heard by Tom and the crew of the gun below him. The mates were at their stations ready to shorten sail. I had my spyglass turned towards our pursuer, endeavouring to get a glimpse of her flag should she have hoisted one, which she very certainly would have done were she a King's ship. As I watched her, I could see that she was gaining upon us. Objects which at first appeared indistinct were now clearly visible. I could make out the men on the forecastle, but I saw no gun there with which she could return the compliment our "Long Tom" was about to pay her. So far this was satisfactory. "Were she a King's ship she would have fired a gun without altering her course, as a signal for us to heave to," observed the captain. Scarcely had he spoken than the stranger yawed--a gun was fired, and a shot came towards us, striking the water and sinking close under our counter. At the same moment, raising my glass, I caught sight of the British ensign flying from the end of the peak. "Hurrah!" I exclaimed; "she's a King's ship, and we are all right." "We must not be too sure of that," observed Harry; "pirates can hoist false colours. We want better proof of her honesty before we heave to. Had she been well disposed, she would not have sent that iron messenger after us." For some time longer the "Arrow" stood on her course, while the stranger, keeping directly astern, did not alter hers. I expected every moment to hear our captain give the word to fire, but he refrained from doing so. Suspicious as was the behaviour of our pursuer, still I thought it possible that, after all, she might be a King's ship, and had shown her proper colours. Presently, however, she yawed, her studding-sails fluttering as she did so, being almost taken back. Two spouts of flame, followed quickly by a couple of round shot, issued from her bow-ports. That the shot were fired with evil intent was evident, for one struck our larboard quarter close below where I was standing, and knocked away the carved work, while the other, flying high, passed close above our heads, and fell into the water not a dozen fathoms from the ship. Before her helm could again be put up, Captain Magor shouted, "Give it them, Tubbs," and our "Long Tom," with a loud roar, sending forth a spout of flame, pitched a shot right through the fore part of her bulwarks, and I could see the splinters fly as it struck them. "Load and fire away as fast as you can," cried the captain; "if that's a King's ship, she fired first, and must take the consequences." I should have felt more satisfied had I been convinced that the captain was right, but still I could not help fancying that she was a royal cruiser, and that we might be committing a terrible mistake. Shot after shot was now aimed at our pursuer. Tom Tubbs and his men hauling in and loading the gun with a rapidity which only well-trained hands could have done. Few of our shots--as far as I could judge--appeared to be so successfully aimed as the first had been. Still I heard Captain Magor shouting out, "Well done, my lads; never saw a gun better served. Wing her if you can; knock away her foremast, and twenty golden guineas shall be yours." The stranger all this time did not return our fire, for she could not bring her foremost guns to bear without yawing, and by doing so she would have lost ground. She was still gaining on us, and I observed at length that she had slightly altered her course, so as to be creeping up on our starboard quarter, though so slightly, that at first the alteration was not perceived. Captain Magor took two or three short turns on the poop, then suddenly stopping, he shouted, "In with the studding-sails, send down the royals," and presently afterwards, when this was done, "Furl top-gallant-sails." He had evidently made up his mind that escape was impossible, and was determined to fight the stranger should she prove an enemy. Active as were our crew, some minutes passed before sail was shortened, by which time the stranger had crept up on our quarter. She had hitherto kept all her canvas standing. We were still running before the wind. I saw the captain give a steady look at her. "I know her now. She is the `Vulture,' and we can expect no mercy if we are taken," he exclaimed, turning to Harry and me, his countenance exhibiting the anxiety he felt in the discovery, although the next moment he spoke in the same firm tone as usual. "The men stationed at the starboard guns be ready to fire," he cried out. "Brace the yards to larboard." Before, however, the words were out of his mouth, the stranger's crew were seen swarming aloft. The yards and tops were covered with men, and with a rapidity far excelling anything we were capable of, the studding-sails were taken in, the royals and top-gallant-sails furled, and just as our helm was put down, and we were about to luff across her bow, she luffed up and let fly a broadside of ten guns in return for our three. At the same moment, as I looked aft, expecting still to see the ensign of Old England flying from her peak, I beheld a black piratical flag with the death's head and cross-bones, which had evidently been hoisted to strike terror into the hearts of our crew. At that instant I heard the same crashing, rending sounds which had disturbed my slumbers, as the shot tore their way through our bulwarks, some striking the masts, others cutting away the shrouds and knocking a boat to pieces. I saw one man fall at the after-guns, while two more were binding handkerchiefs round their arms, showing that they had been struck either by shot or splinters. Having missed the opportunity of raking the enemy, we were now placed in a disadvantageous position to leeward. Still Captain Magor was not the man to give in. He ordered "Long Tom" to be dragged from its present position, and run through the foremost port. "If the enemy have more guns than we have, we must make amends by firing ours twice as fast as she does," he cried out in a cheerful tone. "Cheer up, my lads. Toss the pieces in, and give the villains more than they bargain for." Harry and I hastened to one of the guns, at which three of the crew had already been killed or disabled, and we exerted ourselves to the utmost. I confess that I have a somewhat confused idea of what now occurred. I was thinking only of how I could best help in loading and running out the gun at which I had stationed myself. All my thoughts and energies were concentrated on that; but I remember hearing the cries and groans of my shipmates as they were shot down, the tearing and crashing of the shot as they struck our devoted craft, the blocks falling from aloft, the shouts of the officers, and the occasional cheers of the men, and seeing the ropes hanging in festoons, the sails in tatters, wreck and confusion around us, with wreaths of smoke. Then I remember observing the pirate ship, which had approached us closer and closer, come with a louder crash than any previous sounds alongside. Grapplings were thrown on to our bulwarks, then a score or more of ruffianly looking fellows with hangers flashing leapt down on our decks. We fired our pistols and drew our own blades, and for a few minutes fought with desperation; then Harry and I, with Tom Tubbs and the captain, were borne back towards the poop, where, as we stood for a few seconds, keeping our enemies at bay, we saw that, overwhelmed by numbers, all hope of successful resistance was vain. Captain Magor shouted to us to sell our lives dearly, but just then I heard a voice exclaim, "Drop your weapons and you shall have your lives, for you have fought like brave fellows." Gazing at the speaker, whom I had not before recognised among the boarders, I beheld one whose countenance I knew. Yes! I had no doubt about the matter, he was Captain Roderick Trunnion. At his heels followed a huge mastiff, who growled fiercely as his master was addressing us. Whether or not Captain Roderick recognised Harry or me, we neither of us could tell. "We had better make a virtue of necessity," said the captain, dropping his sword; and I with the rest of the party did the same, for we could not suppose that our captors intended afterwards to slaughter us. One of the officers of the pirate, stepping up, took our weapons, which we handed to him; and as our assailants now separated, apparently to plunder the vessel, the fearful condition of our deck was exposed to view. In every direction were our poor fellows dead or wounded, including the two mates, one of whom had his head knocked off, while the other was cut almost in two by a round shot. Planks were torn up where the shot had ploughed their way along them; blocks, entangled ropes, shattered spars, fragments of the bulwarks and boats, and pieces of sails, were scattered about amid large splashes of blood. The pirates, now masters of the vessel, began at once to heave the dead overboard, several still breathing, who might have recovered, being treated in the same way. Every moment I expected that the miscreants would compel us to walk the plank, but for a wonder they appeared satisfied with their victory. Captain Trunnion did not appear to recognise us, though he fixed his eyes on Captain Magor in a very ominous way. "I know you," he said, approaching him; "you once did me a good turn by picking me out of the water. I should probably otherwise have served for a dinner to a hungry shark close at my heels; but you counterbalanced that by the scurvy trick you endeavoured to play me at Liverpool. However, as no harm was done, except that my brother was not quite so affectionate as he might have been, I'll overlook that, and I tell you I don't wish to have your blood or that of any other man on my hands. Now, listen to me, and if you are a sensible person, you will accept my offer and save your life. I happen to have no one on board whom I can spare capable of navigating the vessel. I intend to put a prize-crew on board this craft, and leave you some of your own men, and if you take her and them safe into the Sherbro River, you shall have your liberty and go wherever you like after the vessel has sailed. I must send a man on board to act as mate who will stand no nonsense. If you prove true, he'll be civil; but if not, you may expect to have your brains blown out at a moment's notice. You understand me?" I watched Captain Magor's countenance, to judge whether he would accept the offer or not I hoped that he would do so, and that we should be allowed to accompany him. He placed his hand on his brow as he paced several times up and down the deck. "I accept your offer," he said at length. He did not I remarked, address Captain Roderick by his proper name. "You will, I hope, allow my two passengers to accompany me, and the boatswain, who, although not a navigator, is a first-rate seaman, and will be of great assistance to me." "No, no, my friend. I intend these two young gentlemen, who, by the way they fought, have shown themselves to be fine spirited fellows, to accompany me; and the character you give of the boatswain makes me wish to have him on board my craft, where, to tell you the truth, I have not got too many able seamen. You may consider yourself very fortunate at being allowed the privilege I offer you, so say no more about the matter." These remarks destroyed the hopes Harry and I had entertained that we might get free of the pirate and ere long obtain our liberty. Poor Tubbs looked very much cast down. Knowing him well, I was sure he was not a man who would join with the pirates, although Captain Roderick might employ every means to win him over. We were not long left in suspense as to our fate. "Now, my lads," exclaimed the pirate captain, addressing Harry and me, "make your way on board my ship, and you follow them," he added turning to Tubbs. We had just time to shake hands with Captain Magor, whose countenance showed the sorrow and anxiety he felt, when, at a sign from Captain Roderick, several of his men seized us by the shoulders, and hurried us on board the "Vulture." Tubbs then, giving an involuntary shrug of his shoulders, as if resigned to his fate, followed us; the savage growls of the dog making us dread that he would seize one of us by the leg, and so I have no doubt that he would have done at a sign from his master. The deck of the pirate presented much the same scene as did that of the "Arrow." Our shot had done no little damage to the hull and rigging, while several of her crew were dead or dying. Their shipmates were in the act of heaving the bodies overboard, although they did not treat those who were still breathing as they did our poor fellows. A few of them, more compassionate than the rest, were endeavouring to staunch the blood flowing from the limbs and sides of the wounded men. Harry, Tubbs, and I, finding that no one interfered with us, knelt down beside three of the men who were unable to move on the after part of the deck. The wretched beings were crying out for help and mercy. Two of them were evidently suffering fearfully from thirst. "I'll get some water; it will do them good," said Tubbs, and making his way to a water-cask which stood on deck, from which he filled a tin mug, he brought it back to the men. They all drank eagerly, one of them, however, in the very act, fell back and expired. The others cast a look at their shipmate. Such might be their fate. "Take him away," groaned one of them. "I cannot help casting my eyes on him, and he is terrible to look upon." In truth, the man's countenance, distorted with pain, bore a horrible expression. We dragged the body forward, that his shipmates might dispose of it as they thought fit. We were so eagerly engaged in attending to the wounded men, that we did not observe that the vessels had been cast loose from each other, and that Captain Roderick had returned on board. We were aroused by hearing his voice issuing orders to his crew to make sail. We cast a look over the bulwarks, where we saw the "Arrow," from which we were greatly increasing our distance, her people busily employed in repairing damages, knotting and splicing the running rigging, getting fresh yards across, and bending new sails. The work was still going on when the "Vulture," having made sail and steering to the south-east, ran her out of sight. CHAPTER FOUR. OUR LIFE ON BOARD THE PIRATE SHIP--WE TEND THE WOUNDED--DISCUSS PLANS FOR ESCAPING--LAND IN SIGHT--ENTER THE RIVER--AT ANCHOR--PREPARATIONS FOR RECEIVING SLAVES ON BOARD--WOUNDED MEN LANDED--WE ACCOMPANY THEM-- TOM AGREES TO TRY AND ESCAPE WITH US--COMFORTABLY LODGED--SLAVE BARRACOONS--A VISIT ON BOARD TO SEE TOM--OBTAIN ARMS AND ESCAPE FROM THE VILLAGE--OUR FLIGHT--REACH A RIVER--FALL IN WITH FRENCH TRADERS--KINDLY TREATED--INTENDED TREACHERY OF OUR PIRATE COMPANIONS--DEFEATED BY THE FRENCHMEN--SURPRISED BY A BAND OF SAVAGES--A FEARFUL MASSACRE--SAVED BY THE MATE OF THE "VULTURE"--AGAIN MADE PRISONERS. We were treated with more leniency than we could have expected on board the "Vulture," in consequence, I believe, of our having attended to the wounded. "We have no doctor on board, and you and your friends may look after those fellows, and try to patch them up," said the pirate captain to me the day after the action. "I cannot spare the boatswain, as he is wanted to do duty as a seaman. Remember that I might have clapped you down in the cable-tier, or, had I chosen, made you walk the plank, as many have done before; but I don't want to have the deaths of more men than I can help at my door, even though I run the risk of losing my life in consequence of my leniency." "We will continue to look after the wounded as long as we are able," I answered. I thought it prudent not to expend any thanks on him, for which he would not have cared, nor to show any very great satisfaction at being left at liberty, as he might have suspected that we were contemplating plans for our escape, nor would he have been far off the truth. Harry and I, when we were certain that no one was listening, had discussed the matter, intending to let Tom Tubbs into our plan, and invite him to join us. At present, however, we had no means of holding communication with him. He was sent forward, while we remained either on the quarter-deck, or in a sort of cockpit to which the wounded had been carried. It was a dark, close place, its only advantage being that it was out of the way of shot in action. In the course of a few hours, death removed all but six of our patients and Harry and I had enough to do to attend to them. They were groaning and complaining all day long, and constantly calling out for liquor, though, when we supplied them with water instead, they drank it greedily, sometimes fancying that it was what they had asked for. We kept them constantly supplied with liquid, which, although often hot and tepid, appeared like nectar to their fevered lips. No one interfered with us. How the poor fellows would have fared had they been left to themselves I know not, but I suspect that they would have been allowed to suffer with very little commiseration felt for them. Still all this time our position was far from comfortable. I was doubtful how Captain Roderick might treat Harry. I had no doubt that he knew who he was, though he had never addressed him by name; indeed, after having spoken to us about the wounded men, he took no further notice of us, allowing us to take our food in the cockpit, and to sleep in a couple of hammocks which were slung there, which had belonged to two of the men who had been killed. We had to do everything for ourselves, the seamen being either surly to us or rude. Harry and I separately, on two different occasions, endeavoured to speak to Tubbs, but a man immediately stepped up and asked us what we wanted, he having, I suppose, been directed by the Captain to watch us and Tubbs, to see that we held no communication, while Growler--for so we found that the captain's dog was called--came snuffing and growling round and round us, ready to fall to and tear us to pieces at the word of command. We fortunately had fine weather as we continued our voyage towards the Bight of Biafara, for which we were bound. All this time we did not lose the hope of falling in with a British man-of-war by which we might be rescued. Day after day passed by, but not a sail hove in sight. That Captain Roderick thought such might be the case seemed probable, as he was constantly on the watch, and exercising his men both at the guns, and with small arms and cutlasses; and I felt certain that, sooner than surrender, he would fight to the last, and then blow up the ship. It appeared to me that he had become more desperate than he had been when he last paid a visit to Liverpool. Indeed, he must have known that he could never again show his face there, should either Harry or I, or Captain Magor, or the boatswain, find our way back. Probably, however, he counted on our never doing so. It was not a pleasant feeling to know that he might consider his interest advanced by effectually preventing us from again seeing our native land. The wounded men made fair progress towards recovery under our care, but when not attending them, Harry and I found time hang very heavily on our hands. We had no books, and were afraid of conversing except on indifferent subjects, for fear of being overheard. Even the men we were attending might betray us should we say anything at which the captain might take offence. Our life was therefore, as may be supposed, anything but a pleasant one. We went on deck occasionally very early in the morning or after sunset, when the shades of night prevented our being observed, and generally managed to get a few turns together to stretch our legs and breathe the fresh air; for had we always remained in the close hold, do not suppose that we could have retained our health. Our thief amusement was endeavouring to win our way into the good graces of Growler, and gradually we succeeded in doing so, though we of course took good care not to let it be seen that we were on friendly terms with him. We were very thankful when at length, early one morning, we heard the cry from the look-out at the masthead-- "Land, oh!" Both Harry and I felt a strong impulse to run aloft and have a look at it, but this we dared not do. It was some time, therefore, before we saw the shore from the deck. We could then make out a line of mangrove-trees, with blue hills rising to a considerable height in the distance. The mangrove-trees marked the entrance of the river up which we were bound. We stood on until within about four miles of the shore, when it fell a dead calm. There the brig lay, rolling her sides in the smooth burnished water on which she floated. We could now perceive, projecting from among the mangrove bushes, a long spit of white sand, from which to the opposite shore ran a line of foam, marking the bar which we had to cross. The heat was intense, making the pitch bubble up between the seams of the deck, while down below the air was horribly stifling. It seemed surprising that the poor wounded fellows could live in it; but they had got accustomed to a close atmosphere, I suppose, and were, at all events, saved from feeling the direct rays of the sun. The whites of the crew sought shelter wherever a particle of shade existed, although the black and brown men, of whom there were several, appeared indifferent to the heat--the black cook and his mate actually sitting on the top of the caboose and smoking their pipes, with the advantage of a fire beneath them. I expected to see them begin to broil, but they were evidently enjoying themselves. Thus it lasted for a couple of hours, until the sea-breeze set in, when all sail was instantly made, and the ship was headed up for the bar. The breeze increased. As we got nearer we caught sight of a canoe and half a dozen black fellows coming off to assist us. We accordingly hove to, that they might be able to get up the side, when a huge fellow in a broad-brimmed straw hat and a pair of trousers with pink stripes came on deck, and walking up to the captain, shook hands with him as with an old friend. "Ah, massa cap'n, glad to see you 'gain. You take plent slavy--him dare all ready;" and he pointed up the river. "All right, Master Pogo. Take care that you don't put my ship ashore though, as you did Captain Watman's. I wonder he did not shoot you through the head for your carelessness. I wouldn't scruple to do so, let me tell you." Pogo grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Me take good care, cap'n," he answered; and stepping up to the break of the poop, he took his post there that he might con the vessel. He looked around him and then surveyed the shore. "Starboard a little," he sung out. "Now steady, dat will do. Now we go in like shot," he added, turning to the captain, who significantly touched the butt of one of the pistols in his belt. As the line of surf was approached, Pogo became more energetic in his actions. He shouted to the crew, "Stand by the braces, tacks, and sheets!" The wind began to fail, and he knew well that a puff coming down the river might take the ship aback, and drive her on shore before there was time to drop an anchor. For an instant her sails fluttered. He began to dance about and wring his hands, looking at the captain's belt as if he expected every moment to see the pistol sticking in it pointed at his head; but happily for him the sails again filled, and the breeze increasing, the ship, after pitching three or four times, glided on into smooth water. We were now free of all danger for the present. There was nothing very attractive in the appearance of the river. As far as the eye could reach, we could distinguish only mangrove bushes rising apparently out of the water itself. Except a hut or two at the inner end of the sandy point I have described, not a human habitation was to be perceived, and scarcely a canoe dotted the broad expanse of the river as we glided up it, stemming the current with the strong sea-breeze which had now set in. As we got higher up, an occasional opening in the mangrove bushes showed us a more attractive looking country, with cocoa-nut, fig, and other trees, and native huts nestled beneath them; but it was not until we had got about twenty miles from the mouth of the river that any sign of a numerous population appeared. At length we prepared to come to an anchor off a village from which a wooden stage projected into the river. Beyond it were several long sheds of considerable extent, which were ere long discovered to be barracoons or sheds for the reception of slaves brought down from the interior to be embarked. The anchor was dropped, the sails were furled. What now was to be our fate? The captain had interfered so little with us, that we hoped he would allow us to go on shore, and that we might be able from thence to make our way down the river, and get on board a lawful trader or man-of-war. I proposed to Harry that I should at once ask him. Just as I was about to do so, I heard him order the wounded men to be brought up and placed in a boat alongside. I thought that now was a good opportunity, "I am afraid, sir, that these men are scarcely in a fit state to be removed; unless they have some one to look after them, they are very likely to lose their lives." "You may accompany them," he said, "but remember that you do not go beyond the village, or you will stand a chance of being knocked on the head. The blacks are not very fond of strange white men hereabouts." Of course Harry and I did not consider ourselves bound to follow his directions in this instance, nor had we given any promise to do so. Before we left the ship, we found that the crew were preparing her for the reception of slaves. Some were hoisting up her cargo and placing it either on deck or in the after-cabin ready for trade, and others were fixing in a slave-deck fore and aft, while casks of water and bags of farina were being brought on board in large quantities. I was thankful to see Tom Tubbs in the boat which was to convey the wounded men on shore. He gave us a wink as we went down the side, and I saw that he took the stroke oar, so that he would have an opportunity of speaking to us. The ship was some distance off the bank, for there was not sufficient depth of water to enable her to come nearer. It took us, therefore, nearly ten minutes to reach the spot. "I'll lend a hand to carry one of these poor fellows," observed Tom, giving me a meaning look as he pulled away. "I suppose Mr Bracewell will help us?" I turned to Harry, and of course he said "yes." Two of the men were able to walk, but the other three were still too weak to help themselves. The crew of the boat, therefore, took two of the latter up on their shoulders, and Tubbs, Harry, and I lifted the third. Harry carried the man's feet; Tubbs and I supported him by our arms and shoulders. "We shall be here for more than a week, I suspect," said Tubbs as we walked along. "I must come on shore to see how these poor fellows are getting on, and may be you may fancy a walk into the country, either up the river or down the river, as you wish." The habitation selected for the accommodation of the wounded was far superior to what I expected to find. It was, indeed, the house of a white slave-dealer and general trader, who, with his clerks, was now away, and Captain Roderick had thought fit to take possession of it. A large airy room in which eight hammocks were slung, afforded quarters for our five patients and to Harry and me. "I wish that you could occupy the other," I said to Tubbs; "we should be glad to have your assistance. Couldn't you ask the captain's leave, and say that we want you to help us to look after the wounded?" The boatswain shook his head. "Not much chance of his granting it; he would suspect that there was something in the wind; but I'll keep my weather eye open, and if I have a chance I'll come on shore. If you determine to try and make your escape, it must be just before the `Vulture' sails, or the captain will be sending to look for you," he whispered. "Good-bye, gentlemen," he added aloud; "glad to see you on board again." We found a couple of blacks in the house--an old man and a woman, servants of the owner--to look after it. They appeared well disposed, and brought us food and everything we required for ourselves and the wounded men. The latter--ruffians as they may have been--were very grateful to us, and one and all declared that they would not have received such attention from their own shipmates. "I should think you must be pretty well sick of the life you have been leading," I ventured to say in a low voice to one of them, who appeared to be of a better disposition than the rest. "That indeed I am, sir," he answered, the tears coming into his eyes. "I'd leave it to-morrow if I could, for I know a sudden death or a bowline-knot will be my lot some day or other." "What do your wounded shipmates think about the subject?" I asked. "I cannot say positively; but my idea is that they would be glad enough to get free if they had the chance," was the answer. I did not venture to make any remark in return, but the thought then occurred to me that we might possibly all escape together. If we could procure arms, we should form a pretty strong party, and might fight our way in any direction in which it might be advisable to go. The French had a settlement on that part of the coast, so had the Portuguese further south; but the English had none except a long way to the north. Still, as ships of war and traders occasionally appeared off the coast, could we once reach it, we might make signals and be taken on board. I do not mean to say that Harry or I had much hope of thus escaping, still it was possible, and that assisted to keep up our spirits. Captain Trunnion appeared much disappointed at not finding the number of slaves he had expected in the barracoons, as it would compel him to wait until they could be obtained from the interior, and his crew he knew were as liable to coast fever as that of any other vessel. Next to the house in which we lived was a large store where the cargo of the "Vulture" was stored when landed. At a short distance off were several barracoons. I may as well describe one of them. It was a shed composed of heavy piles driven deep into the earth, lashed together with bamboos, and thatched with palm-leaves. Down the centre was another row of piles, along which was a chain. In this, at intervals of about every two feet, was a large neck-link, which, being placed round the necks of the slaves, was padlocked. When I looked in, the barracoon contained only about twenty slaves. Some of them were fine athletic looking men, and were shackled three together, the strongest being placed between two others, and heavily ironed. The walls of the building were about six feet in height, and between them and the roof was an opening of about four feet to allow the free circulation of air. The floor was planked, not, as I found, from any regard for the comfort of the slaves, but because a small insect, a species of chigoe, which is in the soil, might get into the flesh of the poor creatures, and produce a disease which might ultimately kill them. Half a dozen armed men, two being mulattoes, the others blacks, were guarding the barracoon and watching the slaves, so that any attempt to free themselves from their irons was impossible. These slaves were the property of a dealer with whom the captain now commenced bargaining. As there was time to spare, he chose to select each one separately, lest any sick or injured people might be forced upon him, as is often the case where slaves are shipped in a hurry. He and the trader stood at a dignified distance, while their subordinates carried on the active part of the business, a half naked black acting for the trader, while the captain was represented by a mulatto, who felt the arms and legs of each man, and struck him on the chest and back to ascertain that he was sound in wind, before he consented to pay over his price in goods. Another slave was then summoned, and, if found satisfactory, passed at a fixed price; but otherwise, a less sum was offered, or the slave was sent back to await the arrival of some other slaver likely to be less particular. Women and children were treated in the same way, but there were comparatively few of them in the lot now offered for sale. I had to return on board the "Vulture" to obtain some medicines for our wounded men, and also to get some articles belonging to Harry and myself which we had left on board. Great alterations had taken place in the fitting of the ship between decks. Huge casks called _leaguers_ had been placed in the hold; in these were stowed the provisions, wood for fuel, and other stores; above them was fitted a slave-deck, between which and the upper deck there was a space of about four feet. On this the slaves were to sit with shackles on their feet, and secured to iron bars running from side to side. They were divided in gangs, about a dozen in each, over which was a head man, who arranged the place each slave was to occupy. The largest slaves were made to sit down amidships, or the furthest from the ship's side, or from any position in which their strength could avail them to secure a larger space than their neighbours. As I was to see more of the system, I need not now describe it. On my return on shore, I looked into the barracoon hired by Captain Trunnion, in which I saw from forty to fifty slaves assembled, and even more heavily ironed and secured than they had been before. They were mostly sitting with their heads between their knees, bowed down with blank despair. Having seen the ship which was to convey them from their native land to a region they knew nothing of, and observed the savage countenances of the men who were to be their masters during the voyage, all hope of escape had fled. Every day after this, fresh batches of slaves arrived, their hands secured behind their backs, and walking in a long line fastened together by a rope, strictly guarded by blacks with muskets in their hands and swords by their sides, with which they occasionally gave a prod to any of the laggards. The wretched beings were marched, in the first instance, to the trader's barracoons, where they could be sorted and regain some of their strength. Harry and I were paying all the attention we could to the wounded men, who, enjoying the advantage of fresh provisions, were quickly recovering their health. Caspar Caper, the man who seemed to be the most grateful to Harry and me, was quite himself again, and was certainly fit to return on board, but he begged hard that we would not inform the captain. "If I had my will, sir, I'd never go back to that craft; nor would you if you knew the dreadful deeds which have been done on board her or by her crew." "I have no wish to go back, you may be sure of that," I answered; "but what do your companions say?" "Well, sir, three of them are pretty well agreed with me; but there is one, Herman Jansen, the Dutchman, who has a fancy for the buccaneering life we have led, and I don't like to trust him." This showed me that the man to whom I was speaking, Caspar Caper, had thought the subject over, and was himself fully prepared to try and escape from the pirates. I told him to speak to his shipmates while Harry and I were out of the way, and not to say that we entertained the idea, but simply to state his belief that we would accompany them if they made up their minds to run off from the slave village. Before doing anything, I was very anxious to see Tubbs; but he was so busily employed on board that he could not manage to come on shore. It was very probable, I thought, that the captain would not give him leave, and that he must come at night if he came at all. I thought again of all sorts of excuses for visiting the ship, although I feared, if I did so, that I might be detained on board. Several days passed; the "Vulture" was ready for sea, but a sufficient number of slaves to form her cargo had not yet arrived; others, however, were coming in, sometimes twenty or thirty at a time. It would not take more than a couple of hours to stow them all away on board. Although by this time all the wounded men had recovered, they pretended to be too weak to get out of their cots. Once or twice the captain looked in to see how they were getting on, when they all groaned and spoke in feeble tones, as if they were very little better. "I can't say much for your doctoring, young sirs," he observed, turning to Harry and me. "I believe if you had left the men alone they would have got well of themselves. I never have had a surgeon on board my ship, and never intend to have one. Nature is the best surgeon, and if she can't cure a man he must die." "I don't know what you would say if you were wounded, captain, and there was no one to extract the ball," observed Harry. "I should have to take my chance with the rest," answered the captain in a tone which showed, however, that he did not like the remark. "But, whether cured or not, these fellows must come on board and try and do their duty," he exclaimed as he left the house. "I must get some stronger medicines then," I said, the thought suddenly striking me that this would be the best excuse for visiting the ship; for although the captain spoke in the way he did, he had a medicine-chest on board well stored with drugs, with a book of directions for their use. "I thought that you before took enough physic on shore to cure a dozen fellows," he remarked. "And so I did, sir, but I remember seeing on the last visit a mixture, the name of which I forget, for restoring strength to people who have been brought down, and that's just what these men want." I spoke the truth in regard to the drugs, the only question was how much the men required of them. As the captain did not forbid me, as soon as he was out of sight I hurried down to the beach, and got a black fellow to paddle me on board in his canoe. I soon found a big bottle, and made up the mixture according to the recipe, which I took good care to keep in my hand, so that anybody could see what I had been about. I looked round for Tubbs, and when I returned on deck, much to my satisfaction I found him working at the mizen rigging with no one else near. I hastened up to him, and in a low voice said-- "The rest are ready. Will you come to-night or to-morrow night? although I fear if we put it off till to-morrow you may be too late. We will, however, wait for you if you will come." "Yes," he answered, "wait! I will be on shore an hour before midnight. By that time the black fellows will have turned in. Tell the negro who brought you off that there will be a couple of doubloons for him if he comes alongside at the hour I name. If he fails me, I must swim on shore, although there is a risk of being snapt up by a shark or a stray crocodile. However, I may find another chance before that of getting on shore. Now you'd better be off, for it won't do for you to be seen lingering about talking with me." I followed his advice, and got into the canoe. As the black paddled me on shore, I asked him if he would like to obtain a doubloon. I knew very well what would be his answer. Being a discreet personage, he asked no further questions, but promised to be alongside at the hour I named. On landing, I hurried to the house, which was some way up the beach, and told Harry of the arrangements I had made. I then explained more clearly to Caspar Caper than I had hitherto done the plan Harry and I proposed, which was to direct our course to the southward, and then to strike directly for the coast, where we might hope to be taken off, or to find a canoe or craft of some sort, in which to make our way to one of the European settlements. The means of subsistence we hoped to find in the forest if we could obtain firearms. As I had been going about the house one day, I had seen a couple of fowling-pieces, with powder-horns and shot-belts, hanging against the wall Harry doubted whether we had a right to take them; but necessity has no law, and in this case we came to the conclusion that we were justified in taking possession of them. Our associates had no scruples on the subject Caspar fully agreed to carry out the plan we proposed, and now told us that his shipmates were perfectly ready to escape, and try for the future to lead peaceable lives. We did not inquire too minutely into their motives, but I suspected that these arose not so much from their hatred of piracy, as from being compelled constantly to fight with the fear of a rope's end before their eyes. I told the two old blacks that the wounded men required as much food as they could obtain, and they brought us an abundant supply. We accordingly had a hearty supper, but we were to make a scurvy return to them for their kindness. As soon as it was dark, the men got up and dressed themselves. Harry and I groped our way to the room where we had seen the fowling-pieces, which, with the ammunition, were at once secured. "There's more to be found in the house than those things," observed Jansen. "We shall want a fresh rig out. What say you, mates? Besides which, if old Dobbo and his wife hear us moving about, they will give the alarm, so we must settle them first." Saying this, he took up the lamp, and, followed by the rest, quitted the room, leaving Harry and me in darkness. Soon afterwards we heard a slight scream, then all was silent. We waited a quarter of an hour or more. The time was approaching when we expected to see Tubbs. Presently we heard a knock at the shutter of the room. Of course there was no glass. I opened it, and Tubbs sprang in. We knew him by his figure, though there was not light sufficient to see his countenance. "Are you alone?" he whispered. "Yes," answered Harry; "the others have gone to see what they can find in the house likely to be useful on the journey. We secured some fowling-pieces; we could not defend our lives without them." "And I have brought off a brace of pistols and a hanger," said the boatswain. "We shall do very well then; but I almost wish that we had attempted to escape without those other fellows--they are likely to bring us into trouble by their lawless ways," said Harry. This was indeed too probable. While we were speaking they returned. They had sense enough to suppress their voices, and as Caspar, who carried the light, entered, I saw that they were all rigged out in the trader's clothes, which they had appropriated. One had got a musket, another a sword, and others richly ornamented pistols, while the legs of another were encased in high boots, and he had on a handsomely embroidered coat, used by the owner on grand occasions. "The old people will not follow us or give the alarm," said Jansen. "We have gagged and bound them, for we heard them moving about in the next room, and if we hadn't been quick about it they would have given the alarm, and the whole village would soon have been awake." The men had not returned empty handed. Some had brought in a further supply of provisions which they had found in the house, and several articles they had picked up. Having made a hearty supper, "Now, my lads," I said, "it is time to start. The people in the village must be fast asleep, and the further off we get, the better chance we shall have of keeping ahead of our pursuers. One of us must act as leader. Who will do so?" The men at once unanimously chose Tom Tubbs. Harry and I were glad of this, as we felt sure that he was the best person for the post. "Well, my lads, if you will obey me, I'll do what I can to lead you well," he said. "Now, the first thing I have to charge you is to keep silence. Follow me!" He noiselessly opened the door and looked carefully about. Neither seeing nor hearing any one, he gave as the signal to move on. Harry and I went next, and the other men followed in single file. They knew that the slightest noise would betray them. For what they could tell, the captain himself might be on shore; and should we be caught, he would certainly visit us with severe punishment. We treaded our way silently through the village, keeping at a distance from the barracoons, the guards at which would otherwise have discovered us. The country was sufficiently open to enable us to see the stars overhead, by which we guided our course to the southward. When we approached any huts, we turned aside, taking care not to go through any plantations, where, by breaking down the stalks, we should leave traces of our passage. After going some distance we stopped to listen. We could hear two or three dogs barking, one replying to the other, but no human voices. This made us hope, at all events, that we were not discovered. Again we went on at a pretty quick rate, considering that five of our party had not been on their feet for several weeks. At last the men called a halt. "We had better not stop yet, lads," said Tom Tubbs; "we must put a good many miles between us and the village before we are safe. Your skipper is not the man to let any of his crew get away without an effort to bring them back." A short time, however, served to restore our companion's strength, and we once more set off as fast as our legs could carry us, breaking into a run whenever the ground was sufficiently level for the purpose. We had made good, I calculated, fully twenty miles when morning broke. It was a distance, I hoped, which would prevent the pirates from successfully pursuing us, but it would not do to rest here, for as soon as it was discovered that we had fled, Captain Roderick would be informed of it, and he would certainly tend a party after us. "If he does, I hope that he'll send some of his white crew, for they'll soon get tired and give up the chase," observed Harry. "I am afraid, sir, he won't trust them," remarked Tubbs; "he'll get a band of black fellows, who will keep on through the heat of day. I would advise that we should go forward during the cool of the morning, and try and find a place to conceal ourselves." To this proposal Harry and I agreed, so did our other companions, though they would have preferred resting where they were. After a short halt by the side of a stream to take some food and quench our thirst, we again pushed on, the vegetation in many places being so dense that it was not without difficulty that we could force our way through it. The worst of this was, that while we were thus delayed we should form a road for our pursuers. However, that was not to be avoided should they get upon our track. We had made good nearly a dozen miles, I should think, when we came upon a broad river, flowing, as we supposed, into the sea. "If we can find a canoe, or a craft of some sort, we may easily reach the coast, and save ourselves a good deal of fatigue," observed Tubbs. The rest of the men, who were pretty well knocked up, seemed highly pleased at the proposal. Instead of attempting to cross the stream, we proceeded down it. Harry suggested that we should form a raft if we could not find a canoe, and should a party be sent in pursuit, they would thus be puzzled to know what had become of us. I proposed that, before commencing out voyage down the stream, we should cross to the opposite bank, and there trample down the grass, and make other marks as if we had continued our course to the southward. We had not gone far when we saw a smoke ascending from amid trees on the banks of the river. "Some native traders or white men are encamped there," observed Tubbs. "They are probably proceeding up the river, and will tell us what sort of people we are likely to meet with on the passage down. If they are traders, they are likely to prove friendly and we may consider ourselves fortunate in falling in with them." "But suppose they are not traders, suppose they are not friendly, what are we to do then?" asked Harry. "We muster eight white men with arms in our hands, and are not likely to be uncivilly treated," observed Jansen, flourishing his weapon. "I'll go forward, and see who these people are, and we'll soon settle whether we are to be friends or foes." As there was no time to be lost, he hurried forward, while we halted to await his return. In a few minutes he reappeared. "Friends! come on," he exclaimed; and once more moving forward, we reached an open space near the bank of the river, where we saw a tent pitched and two white men and a party of six blacks, two of whom were cooking at a fire, while the rest were seated in the shade. They rose to greet us. The white men were French traders, they told us. They spoke a little English, and we understood enough of their language to be able to carry on a conversation. As they were inclined to be friendly, and appeared to be honest, we told them that we were escaping from a piratical slave craft, which we described. They appeared to know her well, and seemed greatly to commiserate us. They informed us that they were proceeding up the river to trade with the natives; that one of their number had fallen ill and was now suffering from fever inside the tent. They hoped by spending a day or two where they were that he would recover sufficiently to enable them to continue their voyage. They told us that we were nearly two hundred miles from the sea, and a much greater distance following the course of the river; but still it would be the safest plan to descend it in the way we proposed, until we reached a village where canoes were to be obtained. Though Harry and I and Tubbs were anxious at once to set to work and build a raft, our companions declared that they were too tired to do anything more until they had had a long rest. Our new friends, who had plenty of provisions, kindly bestowed some upon them, and invited us to join them in their repast, giving us some wine, which we found very refreshing. The Frenchmen, hearing how far we had come, expressed their opinion that the pirates would not attempt to follow us, and that we were perfectly safe from pursuit. We ourselves were glad to get some rest, and lay down in the shade to wait until evening, when we proposed building the raft. The Frenchmen had several axes amongst their goods, and furnished us with three, so that we might cut down any small trees we required for the framework of the raft. After a sleep of some hours we got up much refreshed. Harry, Tubbs, and I immediately began to select trees for our purpose. The other men, whom Tubbs roused up, however, showed no inclination to assist, declaring that they were too tired, and must wait until the next day. Tubbs went back two or three times to speak to them, but without success. At last, on his return to us he said-- "I am afraid these fellows intend to play the Frenchmen some scurvy trick. Their idea is to carry off the canoe, and if you and Mr Bracewell won't go, to leave you behind." "We must defeat their treachery," I observed. "I will tell the Frenchmen and put them on their guard; I will at once do so." Our friends, at first, would scarcely believe that the fellows would be guilty of so abominable a trick, but when I reminded them of the lawless lives they had led, they saw that it was too probable, and promised to keep a guard on their canoe. We laboured away until nightfall, our companions either sleeping or pretending to be asleep all the time. They got up, however, to eat some supper which the Frenchmen had prepared for us. Our hosts then produced some bottles of liquor, looking significantly at each other as they did so. I guessed their object, but said nothing. The seamen fell into the trap, but Harry and I took very little of the spirits, and Tubbs followed our example. The Frenchmen having plied the pirates with more and more liquor, they soon appeared to forget all about their previous intentions; they talked, laughed, and sang, and clapped their entertainers on the back, vowing that they were thorough good fellows. They then became very uproarious, and seemed disposed to quarrel amongst each other, but by degrees they became quiet again, and ultimately crawling to the bank of the river, lay down to sleep, entirely thoughtless of the risk they ran of being snapped up by alligators. "They will do us no harm at present, at all events," said one of the Frenchmen, "and to-morrow I hope that our companion will be well enough to enable us to continue our voyage. We are much obliged to you for your timely warning, and we would advise you to part company from such lawless associates as soon as possible." Harry and I assured him that such was our purpose, although we would gladly have enabled the men to escape from the pirates, hoping that they would take to a better course of life. We sat up talking with our friends for some time, and were then glad to lie down outside their hut, having agreed to keep watch with them during the night. We drew lots as to who should keep the watches. Harry had the first, from eight to ten; Tubbs the next two hours; I from midnight until two o'clock, and the Frenchmen the morning watch. Tubbs roused me up and said that all was quiet, and that the ex-pirates were sleeping soundly. I paced up and down between the tent and the boat, in which some of the black crew were sleeping, while the rest were near their master's tent. Frequently I stopped to listen for any distant sounds. I could hear occasionally the cries of wild beasts far away to the eastward, and the shrieks of night birds, the chirping of crickets or other insects, and the croaking of frogs; but no human voice reached my ears. I trusted that we should be able to finish our raft early the next day, and begin the voyage down the river. With this hope, having called up one of the Frenchmen, I lay down to sleep, feeling more drowsy than usual. I had just opened my eyes and discovered that it was dawn, when I was startled by the most fearful yell I had ever heard, and the next instant a hundred dark forms, flashing huge daggers in their hands, leapt out from among the bushes on every ride. Harry and Tubbs, who were sleeping next to me, sprang to their feet. Our first impulse was to run to the trunk of a large tree and place our backs against it, so that we might defend ourselves to the last. As the unfortunate Frenchmen were crawling out of their tent, the savages were upon them, while others seized upon the drunken and still helpless seamen, and a fearful scene of slaughter ensued. Three of them we saw killed, while some of the crew of the canoe were also mercilessly put to death. Two of the seamen, however, Herman Jansen and Caspar Caper, seizing their weapons, fought their way out from among the savages, and, we concluded, took to flight, for we saw a party of blacks start off in pursuit. Our enemy, seeing us well armed, had not hitherto attacked us. We expected them to do so every moment. In a few minutes the whole of the party except the two men who had taken to flight and ourselves, were massacred. "We must fight to the last if we are attacked," said Harry; "but don't fire first. Perhaps the savages, when they see the bold front we show, will think it wiser to let us alone." Our hopes, however, were soon dashed to the ground; for the negroes, seeing only our small force opposed to them, after shouting and shrieking, and making significant signs, advanced towards us. Although we might have shot down three of them, we should inevitably have been overpowered. Still we would not yield without striking a blow, and we were on the point of firing when a white man appeared, followed by a fresh party of blacks, and as he advanced from the shadow of the wood, I recognised Mr Pikehead, the first mate of the "Vulture." On seeing only Harry, Tubbs, and me together, he exclaimed-- "Put down your arms and your lives are safe. The other fellows have met the fate they deserved," and he kicked the body of one of the pirates. "They were deserters; but you had a perfect right to make your escape if you could. You have, however, failed, and must come back with me. Our captain will decide what is to be done with you." "We'll not yield until you call these fellows off," answered Harry; "we shall then be able to treat with you." The pirate laughed, for he fancied that he had us in his power. "What shall we do?" asked Harry, addressing Tubbs and me. "We had better give in, sir," said Tubbs. "The odds against us are too great, and although we might shoot that fellow and a couple of the blacks, we should be certain to lose our lives. If he promises to carry us safe on board the schooner, scoundrel though he is, he will keep his word, and we may have another opportunity of escaping." "We must make a virtue of necessity," I observed, "and I agree with Tubbs." In the meantime the mate was shouting to the blacks to fall back, allowing him space to approach us. "I again promise you your lives, my men," he said, as he stopped a few paces off, still holding a blunderbuss in his hand, pointed towards us. "You are plucky fellows, and I wish to do you no harm, although you have given me a long tramp which I would gladly have avoided." I felt convinced from his tone that he spoke the truth, and we all three accordingly lowered our weapons. By this time two of the pirate crew and several of the blacks whom we had seen at the village appeared, and by the mate's directions we delivered our arms to them. "I'll not bind you," he said, "but you must give me your word that you will not run away." This, of course, as we could not help ourselves, we did. While the mate was engaged with us, the rest of the blacks had been employed in plundering the cargo of the French trader's canoe, over which they soon commenced quarrelling, flourishing their daggers and gesticulating furiously at each other. For some time the mate did not interfere, but I heard him direct his own party to take possession of any provisions they could find: "Leave the rest to the black fellows," he added. We were not sorry to see some cases of preserved meat, a box of biscuits, and a bag of flour brought up, with a case of tea, some sugar, and other eatables. The fire was quickly lighted, and one of the white men with two of the blacks set to work to prepare breakfast. By degrees the tumult of the blacks, who had been quarrelling over their booty, subsided; they had apparently come to some arrangement among themselves without the interference of the mate, and each of them now appeared habited in the various articles they had appropriated--some with pieces of coloured calico round their loins, others in the form of turbans round their heads or over their shoulders, evidently supposing that the appearance they presented was very distinguished. Shortly afterwards, however, the return of the party who had gone in chase of the two pirates, irritated at having failed to overtake them, created a fresh disturbance, each one among them claiming some of the booty. On this occasion, bloodshed would certainly have ensued, had not the mate interfered, and insisted on the portions claimed being given up. As he and his followers had firearms, and the blacks had only their long knives, they were afraid of disobeying him, and order was again restored. Notwithstanding the unfortunate termination of our adventure, we all ate heartily of the food placed before us. The remainder of the provisions was done up into packages, so that each of us might carry enough to last until we reached the village. Mr Pikehead had certainly no wish to be in the company of his black allies, whom he had instigated to attack the camp, for making them a speech in their own tongue, he sent them off in a different direction to that we were about to follow. He then directed each man to take up his package, gave the word to march, and we set off. CHAPTER FIVE. WE ARE MARCHED BACK TO THE VILLAGE--CARRIED ON BOARD THE "VULTURE"--SENT DOWN BELOW--TUBBS REFUSES TO TURN PIRATE--AN UNPLEASANT NIGHT--THE SHIP UNDER WEIGH--CROSSING THE BAR--ALLOWED TO GO ON DECK--AT SEA--ANOTHER NIGHT--ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE A PURSUER--SOUNDS OF A FIGHT REACH US--WE BREAK OUR WAY OUT--THE CAPTAIN ATTEMPTS TO BLOW UP THE SHIP--WE STOP HIM AND MAKE HIM PRISONER--A PARTY FROM THE FRIGATE ON BOARD THE PIRATE--CHARLEY APPEARS--LIEUTENANT HALLTON DOUBTS THE VESSEL BEING A PIRATE--TRUSTS THE CREW--A PLEASANT SUPPER--UNPLEASANTLY AROUSED FROM SLEEP BY SEEING THE LIEUTENANT AND CHARLEY IN THE HANDS OF THE PIRATES--A TRICK TO DECEIVE THE FRIGATE--THE PIRATE MAKES SAIL AND ESCAPES FROM THE FRIGATE. Harry and I trudged along side by side, feeling dreadfully out of spirits at the ill success of our attempt to escape, as also at the thought of the sad fate which had befallen the good-natured Frenchmen. We also could not help considering ourselves in a degree guilty of the death of the three men we had induced to desert, as well as of that of our friends and their attendants. Tubbs tried to cheer us up. "Maybe the blacks would have attacked the Frenchmen whether we had been with them or not," he observed; "and as for the rest, it is the fortune of war. We tried to escape but failed; better luck next time, say I." This, however, was but poor consolation, as we could only expect the harshest treatment at the hands of Captain Roderick, even if he did not put us to death. Whether he would do that or not was doubtful. The mate, however, did not seem inclined to ill-treat us, except that we each had to carry a heavy load, while a dozen men were placed behind and on each side of us; but we were allowed to march as we liked, and to converse freely together. Though we had slept the previous night, we were pretty well tired out when a halt was called and preparations made to bivouac. Supper was prepared by the cooks, and we were allowed as large a share as we required. The mate then told us to lie down together, a couple of black fellows with arms in their hands being placed over us. "You'll not attempt to run," observed the mate. "I have given orders to these fellows to shoot you if you do; so the consequences be on your own heads." "No fear of that," answered Harry. "We'll promise to sleep as soundly as we can until we are called in the morning." "One good thing, we've not got to keep watch," observed Tom Tubbs; "and I hope our black guards will keep a look-out for any snake, leopard, or lion who may chance to poke his nose into the camp; although I wish that Mr Pikehead had left us our arms to defend ourselves." We were too tired to talk much, and I believe we all slept soundly until morning, when we were roused up to breakfast and resume our march. It was late in the day when we reached the village. Fortunately for us, the owner of the house we had formerly occupied was still absent, and the theft committed by the pirates was not discovered. Soon after we arrived Captain Roderick made his appearance, a sardonic smile on his countenance. "You thought to escape me," he said. "You acted foolishly, and must take the consequences. Had you been shot, your blood would have been on your heads, not on mine. I intend to take good care that you shall not play the same trick again. You will now come on board the `Vulture,' and it is your own fault that you will not be treated with the same leniency that you were before. My crew will see that I do not allow such tricks to be played with impunity. Lash their hands behind them, Pikehead, and bring them along." The mate, with the aid of three seamen, immediately secured our hands behind our backs, and we were led down, amid the hoots and derisive laughter of the population, to the boat which conveyed us on board the "Vulture." Having been allowed to stand for some minutes in that condition exposed to the view of the crew, we were ordered down below. As we passed near the main hatchway, we saw that the slave-deck was already crowded with blacks, seated literally like herrings in a tub, as close as they could be packed side by side, with shackles round their necks and legs. Our destination was, however, lower down by the after hatchway. As soon as we were below the deck, our arms were released, and we were able to help ourselves down the narrow ladder which led into the cable-tier. Here, in a space which allowed us room only to sit with our knees together, without being able to stand up or walk about, the mate told us we were to remain. "You may consider yourselves very fortunate, my fine fellows, that worse has not happened to you," he said. "How you'll like it if it comes on to blow, and the hatches are battened down, is more than I can say. You'll get your food though, for the captain doesn't want to take your lives--he has some scruples about that--nor do I. Indeed, you might have escaped as far as I was concerned, although it was fortunate for you I came, up when I did, or those Ashingo savages would have put you to death as they did your companions." "We are grateful for the leniency with which we have been treated, but may I ask what the captain intends doing with us?" I said. "Why, I suppose that he intends to sell you two young gentlemen as slaves in the Brazils. He will give your faces and bodies a coating of black, and put you with the rest of the negroes," answered the mate. "And as for you," he exclaimed, turning to Tubbs, "you might have been treated as a deserter; and if you don't sign articles and join us, you will probably have to walk the plank. I say this as a hint to you. If you act wisely, you'll be set at liberty as soon as we get into blue water." "You reckon wrongly if you think I'll join this craft or any other like her," answered Tubbs stoutly. "I'm ready to take the consequences, for turn pirate I won't; so you have my answer." The mate laughed. "Many a fine fellow has said that and changed his tone when he has seen the plank rigged or the yard-arm with a running bowline from it. However, I must not waste words on you. I'll send you down your suppers, and you must manage to stow yourselves away in the best manner you can think of for sleep. One of you must needs sit up, and he'll have plenty to do in keeping off the rats and cockroaches, for you'll be somewhat troubled by them, I suspect." We thanked the mate for the promise of sending us some supper, and wished him good-night; and I really believe that, as far as his brutalised nature would allow, he intended to be kind to us. Cramped as we were in the hot stifling hold, it was a long time before any one of us could go to sleep. We were, I should have said, left in total darkness; not the slightest gleam of light descending into the part of the hold in which we were confined. At length I was awakened from a tolerable sleep by a noise which betokened that the ship was getting under weigh. I did not like to arouse my companions; but Tubbs, who had been sitting on a locker, started up exclaiming-- "Ay, ay! I'll be on deck in a twinkling." The blow he gave his head against the beam above him, roused him up. "Bless my heart! I forgot where I was," he said. "Yes, the ship's under weigh, no doubt about that, and we shall be out at sea in the course of a few hours if we have the tide and wind with us, and don't ground on the bar and get knocked to pieces." After some time Harry awoke. I told him that the ship was running down the river. "Our chance of escape for the present is over, then," he said with a deep sigh. He had naturally been thinking of home and Lucy and his blighted prospects; so indeed had I. Tubbs, as before, tried to cheer us up by talking on various subjects. "There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip," he observed. "Although the captain fancies his craft faster than anything afloat, he may catch a tartar in the shape of a British man-of-war before we cross the Atlantic. As to selling us into slavery, I don't believe he'll attempt it. He must know that before long we would find means of communicating with a British consul or some other authority, and make our cases known. If he had talked of selling us to the Moors or Turks, the case would have been different. Once among those fellows, we should have found it a hard matter to escape." "Still he may sell us," observed Harry; "and perhaps months and years will pass before we can let our friends know where we are." "Well, well, that'll be better than having to walk the plank or being run up at the yard-arm," said Tubbs. "We must not cry out until we are hurt, although I'll own that I'd rather have more room to stretch my legs in than this place affords. I hope Master Pikehead won't forget to send us the food he promised; I'm getting rather sharp set already." Harry and I confessed that we were also feeling very hungry. Even the talking about food gave a new turn to our thoughts. At last we heard the hatch above our heads lifted, and the black steward came down with a bowl of farina and a jug of water. It was the same food the slaves were fed on, but we thought it wise to make no complaint. "It shows that the captain has no intention to starve us," observed Harry. "However, this is better than mouldy biscuit and rancid pork, such as I have heard say seamen are too often fed upon." "You've heard say the truth, sir," observed Tubbs. "Often and often I've known the whole ship's company get no better fare than that, with little better than bilge water to drink. If we get enough stuff like this, we shall grow fat, at all events." The steward, leaving the bowl between us, quickly disappeared up the hatchway. The only light we had was from a bull's-eye overhead, which enabled us, as Tubbs said, "barely to see the way to our mouths;" we could not, at all events, distinguish each other's features. Although we could not see, we felt the claws of numerous visitors crawling over us, and smelt them too, and now and then were sensible that a big rat was nibbling at our toes, although, by kicking and stamping, at the risk of hitting each other's shins, we kept them at bay. Notwithstanding this, we managed to sleep pretty soundly at intervals. Tubbs assured us that the ship was gliding on, although it might be some time before she reached the bar, as it was impossible to judge at what rate she was sailing. Now and then we felt her heel over slightly to starboard, showing that the wind was more abeam, or rather that we were passing along a reach running to the southward; then, when she came up again on an even keel, we knew that we were standing directly to the westward. At last we felt her bows lift, then down she glided, to rise again almost immediately afterwards, while the increased sound of the water dashing on her sides showed us that we were crossing the bar. "There is some sea on, I guess, and I know what it is with these African rivers. Should the wind suddenly shift southward, we may be driven on a rock or sandbank, and we and all on board will have a squeak for life," observed Tubbs. "I hope not, although anything might be better than being carried into slavery," observed Harry. "But we ought not to despair. I have been thinking and praying over the matter, and know that God can deliver us if He thinks fit. We must trust Him; I'm sure that's the only thing to be done. In all the troubles and trials of life. At all times we must do our duty, and, as I say, trust Him; even when bound hand and foot as we are at present, all we can do is still to trust Him." I heartily responded to Harry's remark, and so I believe did Tubbs, who, although nothing of a theologian, not even knowing the meaning of the word, was a pious man in his rough way. "Ay, ay, sir," he said. "I know that God made us, and He has a right to our service; and if we don't run away from Him and hide ourselves, He'll look after us a precious deal better than we can look after ourselves. That's my religion, and it's my opinion it's the sum total of all the parsons can tell us." "Not quite," said Harry, "although it goes a long way. We are sinners in God's sight, whatever we are in the sight of men; and if God in His mercy hadn't given us a way by which we can be made friends to Him and saved from punishment, we should be in a bad condition." "You are right, sir," answered Tubbs; "but to my idea that's all included in what I said." We sat listening in silence. "We are pretty well over the bar now, and I don't think we shall be cast away this time," he observed a few minutes afterwards. That he was right we were convinced by the more regular movement of the vessel, as she slowly rose and fell, moved by the undulations which rolled in towards the coast. We could judge that she was making good way, and Tubbs was of opinion that all sail was set, and that we were standing to the westward. At the time the slaves were fed, we had a bowl of farina brought us, but the man put it down and disappeared again without saying a word. Soon afterwards the mate came down, and told me that I might come on deck for a quarter of an hour to stretch my legs. I was thankful to breathe the fresh air, although there was but little of it, and the ship was almost becalmed. I glanced astern, and could distinguish the shore, although I could no longer make out the mouth of the river. We had, at all events, got a safe offing. When my time was up I was sent below and Harry took my place, and he was succeeded by Tubbs. We were treated, however, with no more consideration than was afforded to the slaves, who were brought up on deck at intervals in the same fashion. The hold felt doubly close and oppressive after the mouthful of fresh air we had enjoyed. The second night of our captivity was even more trying than the first, for the atmosphere of the hold, into which the horrible odour from the slave-deck penetrated, was becoming every hour more and more unendurable. I feared that should we be kept below during the voyage, I, at all events, would sink under it, for I already felt sick almost to death, and my spirits were at a lower ebb than they had ever before reached. Harry was almost in as bad a condition as I was. Tubbs, who had been well seasoned in the close air of forecastles, held out better than we did. "Don't give way, young gentlemen, whatever you do," he said very frequently to us. "Cheer up, cheer up! When we get a breeze, some of it will find its way down here perhaps; and if not, I'll ask the skipper if he wishes to kill us by inches, and I'll tell him he'll never land either of us if we are kept shut up in this hold and treated worse than the negroes. They are born to it, as it were, and we are not, and have been accustomed to pure air all our lives." I did not quite agree with Tubbs as to negroes being born to be shut up in the hold of a slave ship, but I did not just then contradict him. By a faint gleam, like the light of a glow-worm, which came down from overhead, we knew that it was morning, and soon afterwards we felt the ship heel over to larboard, or port as it is now called. In a short time the increasing motion also showed us that the sea had got up. We heard sounds which indicated that sail was being shortened. We stood on, it might have been an hour, on the same tack, when the ship was put about, and now she heeled over more often, and pitched and tumbled about in a way which showed that it was blowing fresh. The cries of the wretched slaves, unaccustomed to the motion, reached our ears, while the tossing stirred up the bilge water and almost stifled us. Two or three hours passed, when the ship became somewhat steadier. Tubbs averred that the helm had been put up, and that we were running before the wind. "There's something taking place, although I cannot make out just what it is to a certainty; but I've a notion that there is some craft in sight which the `Vulture' wants to escape; and if so, I hope she won't." "So do I, indeed," murmured Harry. "I shall die if we remain here much longer." Another hour of suffering and anxiety passed, when Tubbs roused Harry and me--for we had dropped off in a kind of stupor--by exclaiming-- "Holloa! What was that? A shot, or I'm a Dutchman." As he spoke I distinctly heard the sound of a gun, though it seemed to be at a great distance. We listened with bated breath. Again there came a faint boom, and at the same instant a crash, which told us that the shot had struck the ship. "Hurrah! I thought so," cried Tom; "there's a man-of-war in chase of us, and it is pretty evident that the `Vulture' has no wish to engage her, or she would not have been trying to get away, as she has been for some hours past." We waited now with intense anxiety. We knew that the "Vulture" was a fast craft, and that it was too likely she had just passed within range of her pursuer's guns, but might escape notwithstanding. Except by the motion of the vessel, we could not possibly judge how we were steering. In spite of the stifling atmosphere, our senses were wide awake. Again there came the sound of a gun. Although the shot did not strike the ship, yet it seemed to us that our pursuer must be nearer. Another and another shot followed. The "Vulture's" guns were now fired, although I was surprised to find how little noise they appeared to make, and could scarcely believe that they were fired from our deck, had not Tubbs assured us of the fact. Then there came a lull, and we heard a whole broadside fired, the crashing and rending sound showing that the shot had torn through the bulwarks and sides of the ship. The fearful shrieks which rose from the hold made us fear that the miserable slaves had suffered, though perhaps their cries rose from terror as much as from the injuries they had received. A fearful uproar ensued, the roar of the great guns, the rattle of musketry, the shouts of the slaver's crew, the shrieks and cries of the slaves, the groans of the wounded, the rending and crashing of planks mingled, were well-nigh deafening even to us. Presently there came a crash. The ship seemed to reel, a shudder passed through her whole frame. "They've run us aboard," cried Tubbs, "and maybe the ship with all hands will be sent to the bottom. We must get out of this somehow to try and save our lives. There will be no one on the look-out to stop us." The boatswain's exclamations made us fear that probably our last moments were at hand. "We must try and find something to help us to force our way out," cried Tubbs. "If we cannot get the hatch off, we must make our way through this bulkhead. Hurrah! here's an iron bar." As he spoke, Harry and I laid hold of it to be sure that he was not mistaken. How it came there, of course we could not tell. "Now, keep behind me, that I may have room to use it," he exclaimed. We obeyed and he commenced a furious attack on the bulkhead. The crash which followed showed that he had succeeded in driving in some of the planking. He worked away with the fury of despair, fully believing that ere long the ship would be sent to the bottom. The noise he made prevented our hearing what was going forward on deck; indeed, all sounds were undistinguishable by this time. "There is room to pass now," he cried. He led the way through an opening he had formed. We followed him, but still found that there was another bulkhead before us. He quickly attacked that, and in a few seconds had demolished a sufficient portion to enable us to creep through. We found a ladder, which led, we judged, into the captain's cabin. We climbed up it, and were just on the point of springing through a skylight which would have led us on to the poop-deck, when we saw Captain Roderick himself enter, a pistol in his right hand and a sword in the other, his countenance exhibiting rage and despair. He did not observe us. Several casks of powder, which had been brought up to be more ready at hand, were piled in one corner of the cabin. He pointed his pistol, his intention was evidently to blow up the ship and all on board. In another moment his desperate purpose would have been effected. As if moved by one impulse, we all three sprang upon him, Tubbs grasping his right wrist and turning the pistol away, the bullet striking the deck above. Mercifully none of the sparks fell on the powder. Tubbs, grasping him by the throat, and throwing himself with his whole force upon him, brought him to the deck, while Harry and I each seized an arm and knelt upon his body to prevent him from rising. Although we exerted all our strength, it was with the greatest difficulty we could keep him down. He seemed now like a wild beast than a human being. He gnashed his teeth and glared fiercely at us. "Be quiet, captain, won't you?" exclaimed Tubbs. "We have saved you and ourselves from being blown into the air, and you ought to thank us." The captain made no answer. I looked round for a piece of rope or some means of securing him; for had he been set loose, he would probably have accomplished his purpose, and we, of course, were eager to get on deck and try and save our lives, for we fully believed that the "Vulture" was on the point of sinking. The guns, however, had ceased firing, although there was a stamping overhead, the clashing of hangers, and the occasional sounds of pistols at the further end of the ship. "The man-of-war's men have gained the after part, and have driven the pirates forward," observed Tubbs; "we shall soon have some of our people here to help us." Again the captain gnashed his teeth and made an effort to free himself. "It's all of no use, captain," said Tubbs. "I don't want to take your life, but if you don't keep quiet, I shall be obliged to draw my knife across your windpipe." The captain evidently fully believed that the boatswain intended to do what he threatened. "You've treated us with less severity than we might have expected, Captain Roderick," said Harry. "Will you give us your word that you will not again attempt to destroy the ship, or to attack any of the people who have captured her, and we will conduct you into a cabin where you must remain until to-morrow, or until you are set at liberty?" Captain Roderick made no reply. All this time the ship, I should have said, had been rolling and pitching, and it was very evident that she had broken loose from the man-of-war. It might possibly be that the pirates had gained the upper hand, but the appearance of Captain Roderick below convinced us to the contrary. At length the sounds I have described ceased, although there was a continuous tramping of feet overhead, and the rattling of blocks and yards. "They are shortening sail," observed Tubbs; "we shall soon have some one below to relieve us of this gentleman, and I'm thankful to say I don't believe the ship's going down just yet. If he had thought she was, he wouldn't have taken the trouble to try and blow her up." We could see Captain Roderick's eyes glaring at us, but Tubbs held him too tight by the throat to allow him to speak. So violent were his struggles, however, that he nearly got one of his arms loose, on which Tom tightened his grip until the pirate captain was nearly black in the face. In spite of this, giving a sudden jerk, he freed the arm Harry was holding down, when three persons appeared at the door. One was, I saw, a naval officer, by his uniform--the other two, seamen. I shouted to them to come to my assistance, and seeing what we were about, they sprang forward. "Get some rope and lash this man; he is mad, I believe," I cried out. "Go and get it," said the officer. One of the sailors sprang on deck, while the two newcomers assisted us in keeping down the infuriated pirate. He was, I fully believed, from the almost supernatural strength he exhibited, mad. The seaman quickly returned with a coil of rope, with which the officer and his men, aided by Tubbs, soon lashed Captain Roderick's arms and legs in a way which prevented him from moving until he was secured to the mizenmast, which came through the cabin, when we felt that we were safe from his attacks. I had not hitherto looked into the countenance of the officer, nor he into mine. What was my surprise, then, to see a face I well knew. "Charley!" I exclaimed. "Dick!" was the answer. "Can it be you?" and my brother and I grasped each other's hands. He had grown into a tall young man, and certainly I should not have recognised him by his figure. I was also greatly altered; besides he would not have recognised me in my present condition--my countenance pale, my dress begrimed with dirt, torn, and travel-stained. I introduced Harry and Tubbs to him, and he shook hands with them both. There was no time for talking. He told us that the frigate had lighted the slaver, which had refused to heave to, and had had the audacity to fire at his Majesty's ship. A gale coming on, as the only means of securing her, the frigate had run the slaver on board, when he with a lieutenant and eight men had leapt down on her deck, expecting to be followed by more of the crew, but, before they had time to spring on board, the ships parted. The slaver's crew, as he called them, had made a desperate resistance, but a considerable number having been killed and more badly wounded, the survivors had been driven forward and yielded. "Having ceased to resist, the slaver's crew," he said, "had promised to assist in shortening sail, and apparently in good faith, having yielded up their arms, set about doing so. We have now got under snug canvas. There is too heavy a sea running to allow of a boat with more hands being sent to our assistance. However, as we have complete mastery of the people, we can do very well without them. Mr Hallton, the second lieutenant of the `Rover,' our frigate, was inquiring for the captain of this craft, when he was told that he must either have been killed or fallen overboard, but one of his crew suggested that he might have gone below. Another then owned that he had heard the captain say, that sooner than fall into the hands of an enemy, he would blow the ship up. On hearing this, Mr Hallton sent me down below to search for him." "You would have been too late had we not providentially prevented him from executing his mad scheme," I observed; and I then told him how we had discovered the captain in the very act of attempting to blow up the ship. "But you mistake the character of this craft," I said; and I briefly told him how she had captured the "Arrow," and how we had been treated since we fell into Captain Roderick's hands. "That greatly alters the aspect of affairs," he observed, looking grave. "If you will come on deck with me, we will inform Mr Hallton. Perhaps he is inclined to treat the crew rather leniently, and to put more confidence in their promises than he would do if he were aware of her real character." Harry on this desired Tubbs to watch the pirate. "I should be glad to do it, sir, but I should like a sniff of the sea-breeze," answered Tom. "I want just to pump out all the foul air I've got down my throat." "Well," said Charley, laughing, "one of my men shall remain instead of you. Noakes, stand by this man, and shoot him through the head if any one approaches to set him free or he manages to cast off the lashings, although he'll not do that in a hurry, I suspect." On going on deck, we found Mr Hallton, the second lieutenant of the "Rover," standing aft, giving directions to heave the dead bodies overboard and to collect the wounded, to attend to whom he summoned several of the most respectable-looking of their shipmates. The "Vulture" had not suffered much in her rigging, and was now hove to under a closely-reefed main-topsail. She rode so easily that I was not aware until then that a heavy sea was running, and had been surprised at Charley telling me that the two ships could not communicate. Charley introduced me to Mr Hallton, and briefly ran over the events of which I had given him an account. "A pirate, do you say she is?" exclaimed the lieutenant. "I must really beg leave to doubt that. She is full of slaves, in the first place, and the captain and his crew very naturally fought to defend their property. But you say, Westerton, that you have found the captain. I will examine him and ascertain the state of the case." "But my brother here, sir, and Mr Bracewell, and the boatswain of the `Arrow,' aver that they were taken out of their vessel and detained by force on board this ship, and there can be no doubt of her piratical character." "I beg that you will wait to give your opinion until you are asked for it, Mr Westerton," answered the lieutenant in a gruff tone. "I say that she's a slaver, and, as such, being taken full of slaves, we will condemn her. With regard to her piratical character, that has to be proved." I was very much surprised at the way in which the lieutenant spoke. Charley told me that the report on board was that he himself had served on board a slaver, if not a pirate, in his younger days, and that he was stubborn and ill-tempered in the extreme. "Whether or not he has found any of his old associates on board the craft I cannot say, but I know that the crew gave in very soon when they saw him leading the boarders across the deck. To be sure he fought like a tiger, and cut down several fellows, so that I cannot suppose that he has any great love for them, at all events." The cries and groans which ascended from the slave-deck soon drew our attention towards it, and Mr Hallton sent Charley with four hands down to ascertain their condition. I accompanied him, having procured a brace of pistols and a hanger, without which I should not have liked to venture among them. A dreadful sight met our eyes. Three or four of the frigate's shot had entered and swept right across the deck, taking off the heads of not less than eight men in one row, and wounding others on the further side of the ship in another row as if it had gone through diagonally; while the legs of a still greater number had been shot away. Most of the badly wounded were dead, but others were still writhing in agony. I need not picture all the horrors we witnessed. Charley told me to go on deck and obtain assistance. The lieutenant replied that I might take some of the slaver's crew, but that he could not spare his own men. I went forward to where they were collected, but found only three, to whom Harry and I had rendered some service in dressing their wounds, willing to give themselves any trouble in performing the task. They, however, got tackles rigged, and we hoisted up three and sometimes four bodies together, all dripping with gore, a terrible sight, and then swung them overboard. Even this took some time. The wounded thought that they were to be treated in the same manner, and we had great difficulty in persuading them that we intended to do them no harm, but rather to attend to their hurts. Altogether, fifty men had been killed, or had died from fright, or succumbed directly they were lifted on deck from their wounds. Charley proposed having the survivors up, so that the slave-deck might be washed and cleaned from the mass of gore and filth collected upon it, but Mr Hallton replied that it was perfectly unnecessary, and that if the slaves should break loose, we might have to kill them all, or be ourselves overpowered. This I thought very likely to happen, though I felt that a few might safely be brought up while the part of the deck they had sat upon was cleansed. Harry and I, however, did our best to attend to their wants. We carried down water and supplied a cup to each. They mostly received the water scarcely casting a glance of gratitude towards us; but one man exhibited a marked contrast to this behaviour, and, as I handed him the cup, he exclaimed before drinking it--"Tankee, massa, tankee, massa," and then quaffed it eagerly, showing how much his parched throat required the refreshing fluid. "Do you understand English?" I asked, thinking perhaps that these were the only words he could speak. "Yes, massa; him talky English, him serve board English ship." I inquired his name. He told me it was Aboh. I found, however, that although he might understand me, his vocabulary was very limited. I should have liked to have given him another cup of water, but as I knew that the rest of the slaves would consider themselves ill-treated if I favoured one more than another, I refrained from doing so, but I promised to remember him. I then begged that he would speak to his companions, and advise them to be quiet, telling them that we would do everything in our power for their benefit. I heard him shout out what appeared to me to be perfect gibberish, but it had the desired effect, and they at once became far more tranquil than they had hitherto been. Night was now rapidly coming on; the frigate was hove to about half a mile to windward, and, as Tubbs observed to me, both ships appeared to be making very fine weather of it considering the heavy gale blowing. The frigate showed signal lights, and the lieutenant ordered ours to be hoisted in return. Captain Roderick had hitherto remained lashed to the mast, but he could not, without cruelty, be left there all night, and it was necessary to decide what should be done with him. Lieutenant Hallton considered that it would be sufficient to shut him up in one of the cabins and place a sentry over him. Charley suggested that his wrists, at all events, should be placed in irons, as in his savage mood it was impossible to say what he might do. The lieutenant was obstinate. "The man was only acting as he believed right in defending his own ship, and I'm not one to tyrannise over a fallen enemy," he answered in somewhat a scornful tone. Charley could say no more. The lieutenant went below to look out for a suitable cabin in which to place Captain Roderick--Tubbs, Harry, and I, with three men, accompanied him. To our surprise, we found the pirate quiet enough. His mad fit had apparently passed away. "I am sorry to give you all this trouble," he said quite calmly. "You young gentlemen will, I hope, return good for evil, and I shall be grateful." We were, however, not to be deceived by such an address. Charley replied that his orders were to place him in his cabin by himself, and that was better treatment than he might have expected. "Certainly," answered Captain Roderick, looking quite pleased; "it is a favour I should not have ventured to ask for. If my steward has escaped, I'll trouble you to tell him I should like some food. He is a good cook, and if you order him, he will prepare supper for you, gentlemen. He knows where all the provisions are stowed and will speedily carry out your directions." On this being reported to Mr Hallton, he immediately ordered supper to be prepared in the chief cabin. As I moved across the deck, the only difference I could see between the man-of-war's men and the pirates was, that the former were armed and that the latter were not; but as they still numbered more men than the party from the "Rover," it struck me that they might easily possess themselves of the means of offence and master their captors. During daylight it was not likely that they would venture to do this, as the frigate would quickly have retaken the ship. I clearly remember this idea passing through my mind. As Harry and I had had nothing but farina for the past three days, and for several hours we had been without food, we were very glad when we were summoned into the cabin. Here we found a really handsome repast spread out, everything secured by "fiddles" and "puddings," for the ship was tumbling about too much to allow the plates and glasses otherwise to have remained on the table. As Tubbs was a respectable man in his appearance, the lieutenant, with more politeness than might have been expected, invited him to supper. It may be supposed that we all did justice to the meal placed before us. Charley had to go on deck until the lieutenant had finished supper; when he had done so, he went up saying that he would send my brother down to have some food. Charley, however, had to hurry again on deck, as he said Mr Hallton wanted him to keep a look-out. The lieutenant had, considering the time he had been occupied, imbibed no small amount of liquor, though it did not appear to have affected his head. Harry, Tubbs, and I ate our suppers more leisurely. As may be supposed, having obtained but a few winks of sleep the two previous nights, we soon became drowsy Harry proposed turning in. "If we do, we must keep one eye open and our hangers by our sides," observed Tubbs. "I don't quite like the freedom of the lieutenant with these buccaneering fellows. If we hadn't got the King's ship close to us, they would be playing us some scurvy trick, depend upon that." As Harry and I could be of no use on deck at night, and Tubbs really required rest, we all lay down, Harry and I each taking a sofa at the further end of the cabin, while Tubbs stowed himself away in a berth which had been occupied by one of the mates who had been killed in the late action. I was just dropping off to sleep when I heard a scuffle, and on looking up, what was my dismay to see two seamen grasping the arms of the lieutenant, who had just before entered the cabin, while two others were hauling Charley along. The sentry, instead of attempting to assist Mr Hallton, presented his musket at us, exclaiming-- "If you interfere, gentlemen, I am ordered to shoot you." As we saw several other men at the entrance of the cabin with muskets in their hands, we knew that resistance was useless. I was indeed too much astonished and confused, suddenly awakened as I had been out of my sleep, to say or do anything. I fancied for some seconds that I was dreaming. Here were the tables turned, and that with a vengeance. It was very evident that the pirates had tampered with the man-of-war's men, who were probably a bad lot, as was too often the case on board King's ships in those days, and that thus they had easily been won over. Mr Hallton's folly and obstinacy had also greatly contributed to enable the pirates to carry out their project. I should have been less surprised had Captain Roderick been at liberty, but, as far as I could then see, he had had no hand in the business. I had good reason to dread the way he would serve us when he once more found himself in command of the ship and that we were in his power, when he would, I feared, wreak his vengeance on our heads for the way we had treated him. These thoughts passed rapidly through my mind. Harry and Tubbs, who had been fast asleep, were awakened by the entrance of the party, and now sat up rubbing their eyes, as much astonished as I had been. Tubbs, who was but partly awake, sprang to his feet and made a step forward as if to interfere, but seeing the sentry pointing his musket at his head, he sat down again. "Well, this is a pretty go," he exclaimed. "Who commands this ship I should like to know, and then I can settle whether I'll do duty or turn in and go to sleep again?" "Belay your jaw-tackle, master," growled out one of the pirates who had advanced into the cabin. "You're mighty too free with your tongue, fine fellow as you think yourself. A better man than you commands her, and he'll soon show you whose master." I must own I cared very little about Mr Hallton, but I felt the deepest anxiety as to how Charley might be treated. I feared the pirates less than I did the "Rover's" men, who had thus turned traitors to their King and country, for they were too likely to add crime upon crime, and to murder their officers. Had Mr Hallton and Charley been armed, we might have made an effort to release them, but they had both been deprived of their swords and I felt sure that Harry, Tubbs, and I would be unsuccessful, and only make matters worse. The seamen, having now bound the arms of the two officers behind them, led them into an inner cabin, where, shutting the door, they locked and bolted it. "Now, you three, go on deck and help work the ship," said one of the men, whom I recognised as the third officer of the "Vulture," but who had slipped into sailor's clothes, probably to deceive his captors. I could scarcely suppose that all this time Captain Roderick had any hand in the mutiny, for, to the best of my belief, he had been shut up in the cabin, and was still there. The mate teemed to be of the same opinion, for he bade the sentry open the door. He did so, when Captain Roderick was seen stretched on his couch. At the first glance I thought he was dead, but he was only in a deep sleep, so deep that all the noise outside had not aroused him. The mate shook him by the arm, but it had no effect. I was thankful for this, for I dreaded that, should he awake and find us in his power, he might commit some act of violence. Lest he should be awakened, Harry, Tubbs, and I gladly made our escape on deck. I prayed that no harm would be done to Charley, for I felt more anxious about him than about myself. On reaching the deck, I looked out for the frigate, I could just see her light away to windward, but it seemed to me much further off than before. The gale had abated somewhat, but both ships were still hove to. The mate speedily followed us up, and gave orders to the men to bring some long spars to the quarter-deck. He then got a grating, to which he fixed the spars upright, so as to form a cone-shaped structure; then turning it over, he secured some rather shorter spars in the same way, fixing a shot at the point where they united. Inside the points of the upper end, a ship's lantern was securely hung, when the machine was carefully lowered overboard, the light we had hitherto carried being extinguished. Immediately this was done, the order was given to put the helm up, and the foresail being squared away, we ran before the gale, leaving the light burning at the spot where we had been. There was no doubt about its object; it was to deceive the man-of-war, so that, until the trick was discovered, it was not likely that we should be chased. The hope that I had hitherto entertained that we might, after all, be quickly recaptured, now vanished. The mate assumed the command--the crew seemed willing to obey him. Whether he intended to retain it or not I could not tell, but I thought that he certainly would should he find that Captain Roderick remained as mad as I was convinced he was when he attempted to blow up the ship. As the gale slightly decreased, more sail was made, and before morning the "Vulture" had as much canvas packed on her as she could carry. We were kept on deck pulling and hauling until our arms ached. When dawn broke I looked astern. The frigate was nowhere to be seen. CHAPTER SIX. MORNING--THE FRIGATE NOT IN SIGHT--AGAIN PRISONERS--THE MATE OF THE "VULTURE" TAKES COMMAND--ORDERS US TO DO DUTY AS SEAMEN--THE LIEUTENANT AND CHARLEY KEPT BOUND--WE GO BELOW TO SLEEP--AWAKENED AND SEE CAPTAIN RODERICK WITH PISTOL IN HAND APPROACHING THE LIEUTENANT AND CHARLEY--WE SPRING UP, OVERPOWER HIM, AND RELEASE OUR FRIENDS--SUPPOSE THE CAPTAIN TO BE MAD--A DISCUSSION AMONG THE CREW--HOPES OF RECOVERING THE SHIP-- THE "VULTURE" COMES TO AN ANCHOR--A SINKING BOAT GETS, ADRIFT--FEARFUL DEATH OF ONE OF THE CREW--MANY OF THE SLAVES DIE--A GALE COMES ON-- DANGEROUS POSITION--ATTEMPT TO BEAT OFF THE LAND--DRIVEN TOWARDS THE SHORE--THE SHIP AMONG THE BREAKERS--WE SET THE CAPTAIN AT LIBERTY--THE SHIP STRIKES--WE KNOCK THE SHACKLES OFF THE SLAVES' LIMBS--THEY RUSH ON DECK--WE FORM A RAFT AND LAND THE SURVIVORS--RETURN ON BOARD AND SUPPLY OURSELVES WITH GUNS, AMMUNITION, AND STORES--REGAIN THE SHORE--THE BLACKS, WITH ONE EXCEPTION, HAVE DISAPPEARED. As the day advanced the wind decreased, and the ship closehauled was headed up towards the coast. How far off we were I could not tell, but Tubbs told me he should not consider that we were less than a hundred miles, perhaps more. "So far that's satisfactory. It is possible that the `Rover' may overtake us," I observed. "If she finds out the course we have steered, sir; but we had run seventy or eighty miles at least before she was likely to discover the trick the pirates played her. Besides, to tell you the truth, I'd rather she didn't overtake us. The fellows on board would fight with ropes round their necks, and they would not give in as long as a plank held together, and then we should have to go down with them. I would rather run the chance of getting on shore and making our escape afterwards." I at once agreed with him, and we made up our minds that it would be well for us to get out of the ship without the risk of another battle. The mate, I observed, remained on deck, issuing all the necessary orders; the boatswain of the "Vulture" and one of the man-of-war's men, with one of the mutineers, acting as his subordinates. He ordered Harry and me about, treating us like the common seamen, and if we were not as smart as he wished us to be, he sent the boatswain or the mutineer from the "Rover" with a rope's end to start us. Tubbs at once fell into his ordinary duty of boatswain. The mate, it appeared to me, wished to win him over, and always spoke civilly to him, although he was not very particular in regard to his language when he addressed us. The evening was drawing in, we had been on deck all day. I was, of course, very anxious to know how it fared with poor Charley, who was kept a prisoner below. Whenever Harry or I attempted to leave the deck, the mate called us back and told us to attend to our duty. We got some food, however, for the cook, a good-natured black fellow, gave us some at the caboose, or we should have starved. Still, it was much better than being shut up in the dark hold, and, of course, we wished to avoid being sent below to our former place of confinement. I saw some messes of soup and porridge being cooked and carried into the cabin, and I concluded, therefore, that Lieutenant Hallton and Charley would be fed. Harry and I agreed that it would be wiser for us to obey the orders of the mate as long as he thought fit to issue them. "I shall go and lie down in the cabin," said Harry to me. "I can but be sent up again, and I have no fancy to go and sleep among the men." Accordingly, as soon as it grew dark, while the mate was looking another way, we slipped into the cabin, and coiled ourselves up on the sofas we had before occupied. Tired as I was, however, the heat and the cockroaches and the thoughts of our dangerous position kept me awake, although I tried hard to go to sleep. A lamp hung from the deck above, but the part of the cabin where we were was in perfect shade. I had not lain long when I saw the door of Captain Roderick's cabin open, and out he stepped, looking round him as if trying to recover his scattered senses. Presently he advanced across the cabin, when, by the light which fell upon him, I saw that he held a pistol in his hand; what he was about to do with it I could not tell. To my horror, he opened the door of the cabin in which the lieutenant and Charley were confined. Although he had looked unusually calm as the light fell on his countenance, the moment I saw his movements I felt convinced that he had some evil intention. Springing up, I grasped Harry by the arm, and rushed towards the open door. I could see the lieutenant and Charley standing upright close together, with their arms bound behind them against the opposite bulkhead. "Oh, oh!" exclaimed the captain, fixing his eyes on the lieutenant; "you thought to capture me and hang me at your yard-arm; but the yarn's not spun nor the bullet cast which is to take my life. I might order you on deck and run you up to the yard-arm before five minutes are over; but I intend to have the satisfaction of shooting you myself." Lieutenant Hallton, unprincipled man as I believe he was, stood calm and unmoved. Charley was endeavouring to draw his arms out of the ropes which bound them. Twice Captain Roderick lowered his pistol as if he had changed his mind, but still he went on taunting the unfortunate officer. It would have been prudent in the latter to have held his tongue, but instead he went on answering taunt for taunt, rather than endeavouring to calm the rage of the pirate captain, which increased till I feared every instant that he would pull the trigger. Harry and I stood ready to spring upon him, but I saw that in doing so we might run the risk of making him fire the pistol, and bring about the very catastrophe we desired to prevent Charley in the meantime caught sight of us. I made a sign to Harry to get out his knife. I knew that to cut the ropes which bound my brother's hands would be the work of a moment, and I hoped, by the suddenness of the attack we were about to make, to keep Captain Roderick down until that object was effected. We should then be three to one, or four to one if we saved the lieutenant's life. Harry understood perfectly what he was to do. One bound would carry him to where the pirate stood. The moment came, I sprang forward, and throwing my arms round his neck, kicked him violently behind the knees. Although I was so much lighter, the effect was what I expected. Down he fell, and his pistol went off, the ball grazing the lieutenant's forehead. The lashings which held Charley were cut, and he immediately came to my assistance, while Harry performed the same office for the lieutenant without difficulty. The sound of the pistol would, I feared, bring some of the crew down upon us. Fortunately at that moment a strong breeze had struck the ship. The officers were issuing their orders, so that we had hopes we might be undisturbed. No time, however, was to be lost. We quickly lashed the pirate's arms and legs, and crammed a handkerchief into his mouth. Lieutenant Hallton proposed to throw him overboard, and then, rushing together on deck, to master the officers, and try to recall the crew back to their duty. To the first part of the proposal none of us agreed, but we forthwith dragged the unhappy man back to his cot and lifted him in. He appeared to me to be insensible. At all events, when Charley took the handkerchief out of his mouth, he did not cry out or utter a word, although his eyes glared at us. "We might have put you to death," said Charley, "but you are safe if you will remain quiet, and not attempt to summon any one to set you free." The pirate did not reply, and I was doubtful if he understood what was said to him. He must indeed have been surprised at finding himself again a prisoner at the very moment he supposed that he had regained his authority. We had now to decide what to do. We might certainly master one or two officers, but it was a question if the men from the "Rover" would return to their duty, and still less likely that the pirates would yield to our authority. Lieutenant Hallton then suggested that we should drag the pirate up on deck, and, holding a pistol to his head, threaten to shoot him if he did not order the crew to obey us. To this I for one strongly objected. Charley thought that Captain Roderick was perfectly mad, and I also was very unwilling to injure a brother of Mr Trunnion's, villain as he was. "If he is really mad, he will not know what has happened," said Charley. "The best thing you can do is to return on deck, and try and negotiate yourself with the mate, who has now the command, and will probably wish to keep it. Tell him that I am your brother, and as he has no one on board who understands navigation, that I shall be happy to assist him in navigating the ship; that we have no wish to inform against him and his men if we obtain our liberty, and that all we request is that he will set us on shore at the first place we touch at." This seemed the only feasible plan, and Harry and I set off to try and find Tubbs and consult him, while Charley and the lieutenant returned to the cabin in which they had been confined. Harry and I, as agreed on, went on deck. Our absence had not been discovered. Slowly groping now on one side, now on the other, we at length discovered Tubbs. Taking him by the arm, I led him away apart from where any one was standing. "To my mind, sir, the mate will be very much obliged to you for what you have done. He has no wish to give up the command, I can see that; and if you can persuade Captain Roderick--should he come to his senses--that such is the case, we should have him on our side. I suspect, also, that there are two or three of the `Rover's' men who are sorry for their conduct, and would join us. The truth is, I believe, when Captain Roderick is in his right mind, that he wishes he had a better calling, but when the mad fit comes over him, he goes back to his bad ways." "That may be true," I could not help remarking, "but it is no excuse for him; he must have an evilly-disposed mind to have taken to such a calling; he should seek for strength from Heaven to overcome his wicked propensities. Even the worst men at times regret the harm they have done on account of the inconvenience and suffering it has caused them, but the next time temptation is presented they commit the same crime, and so it goes on to the end." It was settled, therefore, that the next day Harry and I should go boldly up to the mate and speak to him as agreed on, while we were to see that no one in the meantime came down to set the captain at liberty, though, as Tubbs observed, "The mate would take very good care of that." Soon after this a fresh watch was set, and as we were supposed to be in the first watch, we took the opportunity, accompanied by Tubbs, of again slipping down below. Scarcely had we stowed ourselves away out of sight, than the mate came down and looked into the captain's cabin. As not a word was spoken by either, we concluded that he had not discovered the state of things; for, locking the door and taking away the key, he returned to his own cabin, which was further forward on the opposite side. Altogether, as must be seen, affairs were in a curious state on board that ship. I at length dropped off to sleep. How long it was after I closed my eyes I know not, when I heard a sound like that of a cable running out Tubbs started up at the same moment. "Why, we have just come to an anchor," he exclaimed. "We must have been closer in with the land than we supposed." Harry being awakened, we both stole quietly on deck. The crew had furled sails, the night was perfectly calm, the stars shone brightly overhead. Looking over the larboard side, we saw the shore, a high land with a point running from it, off which we lay. By the ripple of the water against the bows, I knew that a strong current was running, which accounted for the ship having been brought up. Looking forward, I saw that a bright light was burning at the bowsprit end, and presently it was answered by a rocket fired from the shore, which rose high in the air, scattering its drops as it fell. Exclamations of satisfaction escaped the mate and several of the crew who were on deck. "Lower the starboard quarter-boat," shouted the mate. "She's well-nigh knocked to pieces, and can't swim," was the answer. "Lower the larboard boat." This was done, and several of the crew jumped into her, but most of them as quickly hauled themselves on board again. She sank beneath their feet, as she too had been injured by the frigate's shot. The boat getting adrift, one of the men, before he could spring up the side, was drifted away in her, the current of which I have spoken carrying him rapidly astern. The longboat amidships was in a worse condition, being riddled with shot. "I hope that the people on shore will send off to us," observed the mate; "it's very certain we cannot get to them until the boats are repaired." "They'll not do that in a hurry; for, as it happens, the carpenter and his crew are all killed, and there is not a man on board able to do the work," I heard Tubbs observe. In the meantime, the cries of the poor fellow in the sinking boat reached our ears, but it was impossible to render him any assistance. Farther and farther he drifted at a rapid rate, until he and the boat were lost sight of, although, we could hear his shouts every minute becoming fainter and fainter. At last there arose a dreadful shriek, which, although from a distance, was piercingly clear. "Poor fellow! Jack shark has got him," said Tubbs. "There are plenty of those creatures about here, and I was sure that it wouldn't be long before they had hold of him." I have not mentioned the poor slaves all this time. The wounded were suffering dreadfully, and since they had again been sent down to the hot slave-deck, several had died. The mate, while waiting for the expected boat, ordered some hands below to overhaul them. Six dead bodies were brought up, which were without ceremony thrown overboard, as if they were so many rotten sheep, and the men reported several more not likely to live out the night. The mate, hardened villain as he was, did not order them to be got rid of, as was sometimes done by slavers to save themselves trouble, and to economise the food the poor creatures might have consumed. He became impatient when, after waiting some time, no boat appeared. The weather, too, although so fine and calm when we brought up, gave indications of a change. The sky was overcast, and heavy undulations began to roll in towards the shore. Though as yet the wind had not increased, our position was becoming dangerous, and I for one wished that we were miles off the coast. "If there's no harbour into which we can run, we shall be in a bad way," said Tubbs. "I suspect that the mate doesn't know of one, or we should have steered in for it at once." "What had we better do?" I asked. "Do, sir! Why, there's nothing we can do but ask God to take care of us. If it comes on to blow, as I believe it will, ten to one but that the ship is driven on shore, and with the heavy surf there will be, before many hours are over, breaking on the coast, and the sharks waiting for us outside, there won't be many who will reach the shore alive. The best swimmers could not help themselves, and that's all I can say." I was convinced of the truth of what Tubbs said. That he was right with respect to a gale approaching was soon proved; the wind, bursting suddenly on us, striking the ship, and, although all her sails were furled, making her heel over before it, and at the same time the rollers which came in from the offing increased in height, and we could hear their roar as they broke on the shore to leeward. The ship pitched fearfully into them, and every moment I expected to see the cable part. Should such be the case, I was very sure that not many minutes afterwards all on board would be struggling for their lives. I thought of my brother and the lieutenant, and of the unhappy captain. I intended, should the cable part, immediately to rush below and set them all at liberty. Although the captain had so cruelly ill-treated us, I could not reconcile it to my conscience to allow him to perish without a chance of escaping, which he would do were he left bound hand and foot. I told Harry what I thought of doing. "No doubt," he said. "Should the captain escape, he would scarcely fail to be grateful to us for saving his life; and if he is drowned notwithstanding, we have done our duty." The mate, who had been below, now came on deck. He evidently did not like the look of things. Two or three times he went forward and examined the cable, at which the ship seemed to be tugging with all her might as she rose on the summits of the heavy foaming swells. He then got another cable ranged to let go should the first part. "If I were him, I'd get ready to make sail. The sky looks to me as if the wind were coming more to the south'ard; and if so, we may chance to stand off shore should the ship cast the right way." "I would not hesitate to tell him so," I observed; "when his life may depend upon it, he may perhaps take your advice, although he will not follow that of any other man." "At all events, I'll try it," said Tubbs; and going up to the mate, he told him what he thought. I had very little hope, however, that the mate would listen to him. "You think yourself a better seaman than I am. Just go and attend to your duty," was the answer. Not two minutes had elapsed, however, before the mate ordered the crew to stand by the halyards. Presently he shouted, "All hands make sail." The boatswain went forward, axe in hand, to cut the cable. The topsails, closely-reefed, were let fall, the fore-staysail and jib hoisted. "Cut!" shouted the mate. The ship cast the right way to starboard, the helm was put to port, and she begun to stand off from the shore. "She'll do it, and we shall have a new lease of life," observed Tubbs when he rejoined Harry and me; "that is to say, if the wind holds as it is; but if not, the chances of our hauling off the shore are doubtful." For some minutes the ship stood on with her head to the north-west, all hands anxiously watching the sails, and casting a look every now and then towards the dark outline of the shore, which could be distinguished through the gloom. The current was all this time drifting us to the northward, but it appeared to me that we were getting no farther from the coast. Of that, however, it was difficult to judge by the rate at which we were sailing, as although she might be moving fast through the water, she might really be making but little way over the ground. Tubbs several times went aft to the binnacle. "She has fallen off two points, I'm sorry to say," he observed; "still it is possible that we may beat off, as the wind may shift again; but I wish that it had kept steady, and we should have done it." Scarcely, however, had he spoken, when the sails gave a loud flap. "No higher!" shouted the mate to the man at the helm, "or you'll have her aback." The helm was put up in time to prevent this danger. On looking over the starboard side, we now saw that the land was broad on the beam, and that we were thus standing almost parallel with the coast, towards which it was too evident that the heavy rollers were gradually setting us. Still it was possible, as Tubbs thought, to keep off the shore until daylight, when the mouth of a river might be discovered and we might run into it; or the wind might again shift, and we should, once more, be able to stand off, and get to a safe distance from the hungry breakers, which we could hear roaring under our lee. I was struck by the change which had come over the crew. Generally, when on deck together, they were shouting and swearing, and exchanging rough jokes or laughing loudly. Now scarcely a man spoke, all stood at their stations turning their gaze towards the shore. It was evident they were fully aware of the dangerous position in which the ship was placed. I asked Tubbs how long he thought the ship could be kept off the land, standing as she was now. "Oh, maybe for half an hour, maybe for less," he answered. "The current is sending her along at the rate of two or three knots an hour, and we may fall in with some headland which we are unable to weather, or we may find ourselves standing across a wide bay which will lengthen the time before she drives on shore." "At all events, I will tell my brother and Mr Hallton. It will be wrong to let them remain longer in ignorance of the danger we are in. Perhaps we ought to set the captain at liberty." "No, no, sir; let him stay until the last, we don't know what mad things he will do if he comes on deck. Perhaps he will be shooting the mate or one of us. It will be time enough to let him out of the cabin when all chance of saving the ship is gone." I saw at once the prudence of this, and settled to act accordingly. Taking an opportunity, I slipped below, and found Charley and Mr Hallton asleep. Having roused them up, "I have not got very pleasant information to give you," I said; and I then told them that Tubbs considered the ship would drive on shore in less than half an hour. Mr Hallton, though supposed to be a brave man, was much more agitated than was Charley. "The ship cast on this abominable coast in less than half an hour!" he exclaimed. "Why, even down here, the sound of the breakers reaches us." "Well, Dick, if the worst comes to the worst, we must have a struggle for life," said my brother calmly. "You stick to me, and I'll do my best to help you. I am well accustomed to the sort of work we shall have to go through, and I hope that we shall manage somehow or other to get on shore." Of course, they were both unwilling to remain longer below, and as neither the mate nor the crew were likely to interfere, they made up their minds to come on deck with me. I had some hopes that Mr Hallton, who was a first-rate seaman, might devise some means for escaping. I first consulted Charley about setting the captain at liberty, but he thought that it would not be prudent to do so until the last moment, when it would be right to give him a chance of saving his life with the rest of us. We soon gained the deck. Whether Charley or the lieutenant were observed, I could not tell. I waited anxiously to hear what opinion Mr Hallton might offer as to the state of affairs. "If we get much nearer the shore, we must bring up, and perhaps the anchor will hold until the wind moderates. It is the only chance we have of saving the ship. If we were to go about now, we might miss stays, and there is not room to weal without getting perilously close to the breakers," he observed. At the rate we were sailing, we must have gone over thirty or forty miles from the point where we exchanged signals with the shore, and as most probably the country was inhabited by a different tribe, who might be at enmity with the white men, those of us who might reach the shore would run a great chance of being slaughtered or carried off into slavery. I said as much to Harry and Charley. The same idea had occurred to them. "It may be the case, but we may fall among friends, and we will hope for the best," observed Charley. Dawn was at length approaching, but there was no abatement of the gale, while it was too clear that we were drifting nearer and nearer to the coast. Every moment I expected to hear the mate give the word to furl the sails and let go the anchor. I suggested to Tubbs that he should advise him to do so. "He would not listen to me; although he may know it is the best thing to be done, he'll just put off doing it until it's too late," he answered. Gradually the coast became more and more distinct, and we could make out the white line of breakers as they burst upon it. We stood watching it with straining eyes, the minutes turned into hours, the ship all the time rushing through the water at a furious rate. Presently a headland appeared on the starboard bow. It seemed impossible that we could weather it. Still the mate issued no order except to the man at the helm. "Luff all you can," he shouted out; "we don't want to cast the ship away on that point if we can help it." In a few minutes--how many I cannot say--we saw the breakers close under our lee, the ship was almost among them, but on she stood. Again the land appeared to recede. "Can there be a harbour in anywhere here?" I asked of Tubbs. "The mate doesn't think so, or we should be running into it," was the answer. It was only a small bay across which we were passing. Not a quarter of an hour afterwards another point appeared. As we had succeeded in weathering the first, the mate evidently expected to pass this in the same way. Mr Hallton, convinced that we could not do so, shouted out, "Down with the helm--shorten sail--let go the anchor--let fly everything." "Who dares give orders on board this ship?" cried the mate. The crew, however, were convinced that the first order was the wisest. The tacks, sheets, and halyards were let go, the stoppers of the cable cut, the helm put down to bring her up to the wind. She pitched into the seas, but the anchor held. The crew now flew aloft to try and gather in the canvas, fluttering wildly in the gale. "In three minutes more we should have been knocking to pieces on the rocks," observed Mr Hallton. "It is a question whether the anchor will hold now; if it doesn't, we sha'n't be much better off." Scarcely had he spoken when a loud report was heard. "The cable has parted!" shouted several voices. "Let go the last hope." The anchor so called was let go, and although it brought the ship up in a couple of minutes, it also parted, and the helpless ship now drifted rapidly towards the breakers, which could be seen curling up along the shores of the bay into which we had driven. "Come aft," said Charley to Harry and me. "The moment the ship strikes the masts will go, and we shall chance to be crushed as they fall." "The time has come to set Captain Trunnion at liberty," I said. Charley and I hurried below and burst open the door of the cabin. The unhappy man was still sleeping, with his dog Growler at his feet. Surly as the animal was to others, he was faithful to his master, and he seemed to understand that we had come with no evil intentions, for though he uttered a low bark, he did not attempt to fly at us. By the light of the lamp we saw that the captain had no arms near him. To cut the ropes which bound his limbs was the work of a moment. "Captain Trunnion," I exclaimed, "we have come to warn you that the ship will be in the midst of the breakers in the course of a minute or two. If you wish to save your life you must come upon deck." Not, however, until Harry and Charley had shaken him well did he wake up. He gazed around him with a bewildered look. "What is that you say?" he asked. In a few sentences I told him. "Then it is time to look out to save our lives," he said springing up, apparently quite himself. He looked as cool and composed as he had ever been. We were about to return on deck, when there came a fearful crash overhead, followed by several others. The ship had struck and the masts had all gone together by the board. Shrieks and cries arose, but many of the voices were speedily silenced, as the sea, breaking over the ship, washed several men from the deck into the seething cauldron into which she had been driven. The captain, followed by Growler, sprang up the companion ladder, and we saw no more of them. The cries of the helpless slaves below, uniting in one fearful chorus, overwhelmed the voices of the white crew. "We must set these poor wretches at liberty. It would be a fearful subject of thought if we were to leave them to perish," observed Charley. "There is a hatch, I know, which leads from the main cabin to the slave-deck, although it is kept closed." "Ay, ay, sir! But we can't do it without the instruments," said Tubbs. Hunting about, he discovered some irons used for the purpose, with which we each supplied ourselves. With this means we soon opened the hatch. There was great risk in the merciful task we were about to perform, but Charley, setting the example, we quickly knocked off the manacles of Aboh and the slaves nearest to us, and, with the assistance of the former, made them understand that they were to perform the same operation to their fellow-captives. Some obeyed, but others rushed immediately on deck. However, we persevered, and, faster than I could have believed it possible, we contrived to set all the slaves free. Many of the poor wretches enjoyed their liberty but for a few seconds, for they were quickly washed off the deck, or were drowned in a vain attempt to reach the shore by swimming. All the time the sea was striking with terrific force against the sides of the ship. The loud crashing sound overhead showed us that her bowsprit and bulwarks and everything on deck was being rapidly carried away. While we were thus engaged daylight appeared, and when we reached the deck we saw that the wind had greatly gone down. Although there were rocks on either side of us, there was a clear piece of sand, on which, could a raft be formed, those who could not swim might land. The blacks were mostly clustered aft, the part least exposed to the fury of the seas. Several persons were in the water, some swimming, others floating apparently lifeless. The greater portion of the crew had disappeared; many had been crushed by the falling masts, others washed overboard, and a few on pieces of wreck were trying to reach the beach One thing was certain, there was no time to be lost, as the ship could not long hold together, lashed as she was by the fury of the seas which rolled in from the ocean. The surviving blacks recognised us when we appeared as the persons who had set them at liberty and we made them understand that if they would remain quiet, we would endeavour to provide the means for enabling them to reach the shore. I thought that among the people clinging to pieces of wreck I saw Captain Trunnion, but I was not certain. The mate had disappeared, and had, I concluded, been washed overboard, and, as far as we could learn, Mr Hallton had shared the same fate. We had reason to be thankful that we had been below, or we also might have lost our lives. We immediately set about forming the raft from some spars which still remained lashed to ring bolts on the deck and from fragments of the bulwarks. Every instant the wind was going down, rendering our task less difficult. The tide too was falling, and as it did so rocks rose out of the water, which further protected us from the fury of the breakers. When the blacks saw what we were about, some of the more intelligent among them offered to assist us. At length a raft capable of holding a dozen people at one time was constructed. We also obtained a rope of sufficient length to reach the shore, so that we might haul it backwards and forwards. This we made the blacks understand that we intended to do, and that we could only take off a certain number at a time. The head men, who had all along held an authority over the rest of their fellow-slaves, now came forward to maintain discipline. By this means only the number which the raft could carry were allowed to descend at a time. As soon as we had a cargo we commenced our passage to the shore, and happily landed all those we had taken on board, who at once squatted down on the beach waiting for their companions. We immediately put back and took in another cargo, and thus we continued going backwards and forwards until we had placed the whole of the slaves on shore. "We must look out for ourselves now," observed Charley. "I saw some firearms in the cabin; we must secure them, as well as some ammunition, clothes, and provisions. It will not do to trust those black fellows when they at once find themselves at liberty." Of course we all agreed to Charley's proposal, and climbing up the side, made our way into the cabin. We each got a fowling-piece or musket, a brace of pistols, and a good supply of ammunition. We also found some dollars, which we stowed away in our pockets. "The money may not be of much use while we are among the savages, but it will come in very handy when we get into a more civilised region," said Charley. "Hurrah! here are some things which will be of immediate use," and he produced a boxful of strings of beads of various colours. We each stowed away as many of them as we could carry. Under the circumstances in which we were likely to be placed, they would prove of the greatest value. As the ship it appeared probable would hold together for some time, we hunted about until we found as many things as we could carry likely to be of use. Among others, were a pocket compass, a knife apiece, and other things. Tubbs produced a cooked ham and a box of biscuits, which were divided and put into some canvas bags well suited for the purpose. We were still engaged in our search, when a loud crashing sound reached our ears. We rushed on deck, and found that the sea had made a breach clean through the ship. Fortunately the raft was secured to the after part. We quickly lowered ourselves down on it, and shoved off in time to escape another sea, which came rolling in, and committed further damage, sending fragments of the wreck floating about in the comparatively smooth water between us and the shore. We had great difficulty in avoiding the pieces of timber which were driven towards our frail raft. Every moment it seemed as if we were about to be overwhelmed. On looking towards the beach, we found that the blacks had disappeared, with the exception of one man, who stood ready to assist us in getting on shore. A few more hauls on the raft, and we, with our packs, were able to spring on the sand, the black seizing our hands as we did so, one after the other, and dragging us up out of the seething water, which came foaming up around us. CHAPTER SEVEN. THE BLACK ABOH REMAINS WITH OUR PARTY--THE MARCH TOWARDS THE FOREST-- CHARLEY CHOSEN LEADER--SUFFERINGS FROM THIRST--WE FIND TRACES OF THE BLACKS--AN ENEMY AT HAND--BATTLE BETWEEN THE NATIVES--FLIGHT AND PURSUIT OF THE BEATEN PARTY--FEAR OF BEING CAPTURED--WE CONCEAL OURSELVES--I AND ABOH ATTEMPT TO SUCCOUR THE WOUNDED--WE REJOIN OUR FRIENDS AND PUSH FORWARD--OUR THIRST BECOMES INTENSE--I AM ON THE POINT OF SINKING-- ENCOURAGED BY HARRY, I STRUGGLE ON--WATER DISCOVERED--ABOH'S DUCK-HUNTING--NAPPING ON GUARD--THE BIG SNAKE--WE DECIDE ON THE ROUTE TO BE TAKEN--MAKING HATS. Our first impulse on reaching dry ground was to kneel down and thank Heaven for having mercifully preserved our lives, the black standing by and watching us with a wondering look as we did so. We rose to our feet. "Where are the rest?" I asked of the friendly negro, whom I recognised to be Aboh, the man to whom I had given water in the slaver's hold, and whom I had just set at liberty. He pointed over his shoulder, signifying that they had gone inland. "And you wish to remain with us?" I asked, at once seeing that it would be of importance to have a native with us who might act as our guide and interpreter. "Yes, massa; me like white man. Once serve board man-of-war; cappen kind, sailors kind; but me went on shore to see me fadder, modder, me brodder, me sister; but dey all get catchee, an' all de oder people run 'way, an' dey take me for slavee." The beach, which was here of some height, prevented us at first from seeing what had become of the people; but climbing up the bank of fine sand to the summit, we caught sight of some of them making their way towards the forest, about half a mile off. "They have gone there, poor fellows, to look for food, or perhaps some of them think that they are not far from home, and expect to get back again," observed Tubbs. This appeared very likely. Before, however, we set off to join our companions in misfortune, we searched about for any of the white men who might have been cast by the surf on the beach. We found several dead bodies, but not a single living person could we discover. On looking eastward, we observed numerous rocks, stretching out to a considerable distance, which, now that the tide had fallen, appeared above water. It was a mercy that the "Vulture" escaped striking on any of them, for, had she done so, she must have been knocked to pieces at a distance from the shore, and probably not one of us would have escaped alive. We now sat down on the beach and consulted what to do. As it was not likely that any ship, trader, or man-of-war, or even slaver, would willingly come near that part of the coast, we resolved to travel either to the north or the south, hoping to reach one of the French settlements, which existed at the mouths of two or three of the rivers running into the ocean in that region. On looking along the shore on both hands, we saw a wide extent of sand. "It will never do to attempt travelling over that, gentlemen," said Tubbs. "We shall certainly find no shade, and probably not a drop of water, without which we cannot get along. If you'll take my advice, you'll follow the blacks to the forest. It's water, to a certainty, they've gone to look after; they're thirsty beings, and their instinct has told them where they can find it." Aboh, who had been listening all the time, evidently understood what was said, and nodded his head. We, that is, Charley, Harry, and I, agreed to do as Tubbs had proposed, and we all accordingly set off eastward, accompanied by the black. The forest appeared much further away than we supposed, or perhaps the soft sand, into which our feet sank at every step, made us think the distance longer than it really was. The sun, which was now high in the heavens, beat down with terrific force upon our heads, and as we had on only our sea-caps, which afforded little or no protection, we felt the heat greatly. We found some comfort, however, by shifting our packs onto our heads. Aboh, who saw how much we suffered, offered to relieve us of them. He carried my pack and his own on his head, and another on his shoulders, with perfect ease. I bethought me of a handkerchief which I had in my pocket, and fastened it like a turban over my cap; Harry imitated my example. Charley and Tom, who were stronger than either of us, continued to carry their packs with comparative ease on their heads. We had lost sight of the blacks, the last of whom had disappeared before we commenced our march. At length we reached the outskirts of the forest, and were thankful to sit down and rest under the shade of a tree. "I have been thinking," said Harry, "that we ought to have a leader who should decide what we should do. It will save a good deal of trouble and discussion." "You are right, Mr Bracewell," said Tom, "that's what I've been thinking too; and I propose that we at once elect Mr Westerton, Mr Harry's brother. Although I'm older than any of you, he's a naval officer, and I for one shall be ready to obey him." Of course Harry and I agreed to this, and Aboh, who understood almost everything we said, nodded his head, just to show that he also consented to the proposal. "I will do my best, my friends," said Charley, "although, had you chosen Mr Tubbs, I should have been willing to follow him, for I feel convinced that he is a man of courage and judgment." "Thank you, sir, for your good opinion," said Tom. "You have been more accustomed to command than I have, although I shall be happy to give you any advice whenever you ask it, to the best of my power." "Well, then," said Charley, "the first use I will make of my authority is to select a northerly route. I have been trying to recall the map of the country, which I frequently studied on board the `Rover,' and I think we shall, by proceeding as I propose, fall in with the Gaboon River, at the mouth of which there is a French settlement. I remember that three days before the frigate captured the pirate we sighted Cape Lopez, some way to the south of which I calculate we now are, in what I think is called the Pongo country." "I believe you are right, sir," said Tom. "We shall have to make a pretty long march though, I suspect; but if we can manage to keep near the coast, we may sight a ship, and by making signals, get her to send a boat on shore to take us off; always provided there happens to be no great amount of surf." "Well then, friends, if you are all rested, we will commence our march," said Charley. "We will first, however, try to overtake the blacks, who, as Mr Tubbs observes, have been led by their instinct, or rather their knowledge of the country, in the direction where water is to be found; and I daresay you all feel as I do--very thirsty." "That I do, sir," said Tom. "I feel for all the world as if my mouth was a dust-hole, and that a bucketful of hot cinders had been thrown into it." We confessed that our sensations were very similar to those Tom described. We accordingly all got up and shouldered our packs, for neither Harry nor I would allow Aboh to carry our any longer; not that we thought he would attempt to run away with them. We told him, however, when we camped in the evening, that we would divide them, so as to give him a separate package, and thus we should all have an equal load to carry. Aboh pointed out the direction in which, from the appearance of the trees, he believed we should find water, and eagerly led the way. It was farther inland than we had intended to go, but from his description we made out that there was a lake or pond fed by a stream coming down from the mountains of the interior, and which afterwards lost itself in the sand. We had gone some distance when Aboh made a sign for us to note that the ground had been trampled down by many feet, and that the people who had passed that way had broken off a number of young saplings, probably to form spears, and had also torn down the boughs to serve as other weapons of offence or defence. After going a short distance farther, the sound of voices reached our ears. Aboh shook his head. "No good, no good," he muttered, and made us understand that we must advance cautiously. Presently he again stopped, and advised us by signs to conceal ourselves. He then crept forward, crouching down beneath the bushes, so that he could not be perceived by any persons in front. "I'll go forward and try and learn what his object is," I whispered to my companions; and Charley not forbidding me, I imitated Aboh's example and quickly overtook him. He turned on hearing my footsteps, and seeing that I was resolved to accompany him, made a sign to me to be cautious. We had not gone far when the sounds we had before heard became so loud that I knew we must be close upon the people who were uttering them. After advancing a few paces farther, on looking through the bushes I saw a large party of blacks encamped in an open spot surrounded by tall trees. They were evidently in an excited state, looking up the glade as if they expected some one to approach. They were mostly employed in sharpening the ends of long poles in several fires they had lighted. I at once recognised them as the blacks whom we had assisted to escape from the wreck. They numbered, however, fewer than those who had landed, and I concluded, therefore, that some had deserted their companions in misfortune. Those who had gone away probably belonged to a tribe in the neighbourhood, and were endeavouring to reach their own people. We were not long left in doubt as to the cause of their excitement. Some distance off we caught sight of another large party of negroes advancing with threatening gestures, many of them being armed with muskets and bayonets. On seeing this, Aboh, seizing me by the arm, dragged me back, and motioned me to climb into a large tree the lower branches of which we could reach without much difficulty, he setting me the example and assisting me up. We soon gained a place where we were completely concealed and protected by the thick boughs. Scarcely were we seated than we saw the slaves advancing towards the newcomers, flourishing the spears they had made and shouting savagely, as if not aware that their opponents had firearms, or fearless of their effects. They soon, however, discovered their mistake. The enemy fired a volley which brought several of them to the ground. Notwithstanding this they rushed forward, and a fierce hand-to-hand conflict ensued. The slaves greatly outnumbered their opponents, of whom there were probably not more than fifty or sixty, but nearly all these had muskets. Some of the firearms, I observed, did not go off, probably because they had no locks, or it may have been that their powder was bad. The parties were indeed more evenly matched than at first appeared to have been the case. They fought with the greatest desperation. Those who had muskets which would go off kept at a distance firing at the slaves, while their comrades either charged with their bayonets, or holding the barrels in their hands, used their weapons as clubs. Several on both sides had fallen, when a fresh party of armed negroes appeared in the direction from whence the others had come. On seeing them, the slaves, who had hitherto fought so bravely, were seized with a panic. The greater number took to flight, making their way westward towards the coast, though they must have looked in vain for succour in that direction. I was afraid that some of them, flying in other directions, might pass by the spot where we had left our friends, who would run a great risk of being killed either by them or their pursuers. Aboh and I were so well concealed that there was not much danger of our being discovered. As may be supposed, we crouched down among the thick leaves, much in the same way that Charles the Second did in the oak after the fight of Worcester. The tide of battle swept by beneath our feet, and a more fearful din of shouts and shrieks and cries I had never heard. Those of the slaves who had been engaged in the front rank, deserted by their companions, were mostly bayoneted or shot down or knocked on the head, but the courageous way in which they fought enabled the rest to get to some distance before their rear ranks were overtaken by their pursuers. At length not a combatant was to be seen, but the ground was strewn with the dead and dying. As I was anxious to rejoin my friends, I immediately descended. Had I possessed a drop of water I would have taken it to the poor wretches, whose moans as they lay expiring reached my ears. "Do you think we could help some of them?" I said to Aboh, pointing to the wounded men. "No good," he said, and made a sign that they would soon be dead. I went up to three or four, and was convinced from the nature of their hurts that I could do nothing for them; indeed, the spirits of most of them fled while I stood by. Aboh then, seizing my arm, hurried me away. I found Charley and Harry very anxious about me, for hearing the firing, they supposed that I must have been in the thick of it, and by my not coming back they thought that I was either killed or taken prisoner. "One thing is certain, we must not remain here a moment longer. The negroes will very likely pass this way, and either kill us all or carry us off into captivity," observed Charley. "I have heard that the black people in this part of the country are among the most savage of the African tribes, and that some--the Fans--are cannibals. I don't know to what tribe Aboh belongs, but I hope he is not a Fan." "Maybe he is, and intends to deliver us to his countrymen, to serve as a feast given to celebrate his safe return to the bosom of his family," said Tom, in a tone half in joke half in earnest. "He has hitherto shown only good feelings, and we will trust him, at all events," said Charley. He made signs to Aboh that we wished to move on, and being anxious to find water, we begged that he would lead us to it as soon as possible. He nodded, and pointed to the east. We were too thirsty to hesitate about going in that direction, although we should thus be led farther than we wished from the coast. We accordingly once more set off, Aboh hurrying us along as fast as we could make our way through the thick forest, stopping at first every now and then to listen as the sound of distant firing was heard, and then apparently to ascertain whether any of the blacks were coming towards us. Aboh's object was evidently to avoid both parties. It was most likely that the slaves whom he had deserted would murder him for having left them, while the people of the other tribe were probably hereditary enemies of his, and would without ceremony have put him to death. We were by this time very hungry as well as thirsty, but our thirst prevented us from eating, and we urged Aboh to endeavour to find water without delay. He merely pointed eastward, and nodded his head as before. "Well, keep moving, my black angel; whatever you do, keep moving, and lead us to the water," said Tubbs, patting him on the back. We marched chiefly under the shade of the forest trees, where we found it tolerably cool; at the same time, as Tom observed--"In the opening the sun was hot enough to roast an ox." At last I felt that I could go on no longer. I threw myself down at the roots of a large tree. Harry, who was marching with me, while the rest were ahead, endeavoured to rouse me up. "No, no," I said; "go on. If you find water, bring me some, though I doubt if I shall be alive by that time;" and I spoke as I felt. "Nonsense!" cried Harry. "You are the last person of the party I should have expected to give in. I'll stay by you until you are rested, and then we will hurry on after our friends." "Perhaps we shall lose them if we are separated," I answered. The thought made me arouse myself, and rising to my feet, I staggered on. Harry shouted to Charley and Tom, and they came back to give me their assistance. We had not gone far after this, when Aboh shouted out-- "Dere water, water!" We caught sight of a bright gleam shining through the trees. Though we were in Africa, we knew that it was no mirage, which only appears on dry and sandy deserts. We all hurried on, knowing that our burning thirst would soon be relieved. As we drew nearer, we saw a lake stretching out before us, on the banks of which appeared numberless birds. There were long-legged storks, cranes, pelicans, pink-winged flamingoes, ibises, and similar waterfowl of various descriptions. As we appeared, those nearest to us took to flight, the beautiful flamingoes rising in the air with their long legs stretched out behind them. One thought, however, occupied our minds. How to get to the water, for we feared that we should find muddy banks, which might prove impassable. Aboh's quick eye, however, detected a small inlet into which a rivulet fell. He led us down to a hard, gravelly bank, where the water ran as clear as that of an English trout-stream. We did not stop to consider whether alligators lurked beneath the lilies which floated on the surface, or huge snakes were concealed near at hand waiting for their prey, but kneeling down, we plunged in our heads, and drank huge draughts of the cooling liquid. Cooling it was to us, although probably it would have been thought somewhat tepid in a colder climate. In an instant I was revived, and my companions felt the same sensations. We could now sit down and enjoy a few mouthfuls of the food we had brought from the wreck, which we took to stay our appetites. We intended, before many minutes were over, to have some of the waterfowl flying round us cooking before the fire. Charley and Harry, being tolerable shots, agreed at once to try and knock over a sufficient number for our wants, while Tom and I collected sticks for a fire. Aboh, seeing them set off, started by himself in an opposite direction. "We're not likely to starve on our journey, Mr Westerton, if we are fortunate enough to fall in with as many birds as we see around us just now," said Tom. "I am afraid that we cannot expect always to camp on the borders of a lake or river," I answered. "It will be plenty one day, and starvation the next. However, if we are prudent, I hope that we shall get along without much suffering. There are probably wildfowl to be found, and then we may fall in with friendly tribes, of whom we can purchase food. At all events, don't let us expect misfortunes until they come." "That's what I never have done, and never intend to do," answered Tom. "I've always held that there's `a sweet little cherub who sits up aloft, to take care of the life of poor Jack;' and although that may sound like a heathen song, there's truth in it notwithstanding." We were talking thus while engaged in collecting sticks, cutting some with our axes, and picking up others, until we had made a large pile, sufficient, Tom averred, to roast an ox, when we saw our friends coming back, each loaded with half a dozen ducks. Directly afterwards Aboh appeared, carrying a still greater number, which he gave us to understand that he had captured by swimming out into the lake, his head concealed by a cap of rushes, towards a flock floating unsuspicious of danger near the margin, and that, getting close to them, he had pulled them down under water by the legs. As the slight repast we had eaten had only just taken off the edge of our appetites, we eagerly plucked a bird apiece, and had them spitted in a few minutes before the fire. "If we only had some pepper and salt, we should do well," said Harry. "Here they are, sir," said Tom, producing from his knapsack a bag of each. "We are greatly indebted to you, Mr Tubbs, for your forethought," observed Charley; "but remember, we must husband these treasures, for it may be a long time before we are able to replenish them." By the time we had finished our repast, the sun had sunk behind the trees of the forest we had passed through, and as we could not go farther that night, we agreed to camp where we were. It was important to keep up the fire, as we might otherwise receive an unwelcome visit from a lion, elephant, or leopard, or perhaps from a huge species of ape, numbers of which we had reason to suspect were in the neighbourhood, though we had not as yet seen any. It was, of course, settled that we should keep watch, each one of us taking it in turns. Not knowing how far Aboh might be trusted, we did not ask him. Before sitting down we collected a further supply of fuel, and cut down some boughs, with which we constructed a rude arbour to shelter our heads and bodies from the night dew, although it would have been of little service in case of a fall of tropical rain. Tom suggested that, as Charley was leader, he ought not to keep watch. "No, no," said Charley. "I will share with you all in that respect;" and he offered to keep the first watch. Harry took the second, Tom the third, and I the morning watch. Tom called me, saying that he had been listening to the mutterings and roars of lions, the occasional cries of deer as they were pounced on by some savage beasts, and the shrieks and other strange noises of night birds. "But you mustn't mind that, sir," he said; "you'll soon get accustomed to them. If you see anything suspicious, don't mind rousing me up, although you may not wish to awaken the whole party." I promised to do this, and began to walk about in front of the fire. However, feeling very tired, I sat down, placing my rifle by my side. While thus seated, I confess that, unexpectedly, my eyes closed. It appeared to me but for a moment, although when I opened them daylight had broken, and a bright gleam cast from the orange-tinted sky was thrown over the lake. I was about to spring to my feet and stoop to pick up my rifle, when I found it had gone. On looking round, I saw Aboh holding it in his hand and moving cautiously away from the camp, while he presented it at some object of which he had caught sight a little distance off, and on which his eye was intently fixed. He did not appear to hear me as I followed, when what was my horror to see an enormous serpent, its neck rising in the air, its mouth extended as if about to spring. Aboh stepped behind a small tree, which afforded him some protection, and resting the barrel of the rifle against the trunk, fixed his eye on the creature. It seemed to me about to make its fatal spring, when he, and perhaps my companions and I as well, might have been destroyed. The serpent rose in the air, Aboh fired, its head instantly dropped, although the body continued to writhe and twist along the ground. The report aroused the rest of the party, who sprang to their feet. They looked greatly astonished when they found it was Aboh and not I who had fired. This, I may say, was the first of many dangers we escaped from the huge monsters of that region. On measuring the snake, we found it full thirty feet in length, with a girth as large as the body of a stout man. Indeed, we agreed that the creature could have swallowed any of us, or all of us in succession, had he been so disposed. "Good eat," said Aboh, as he cut off the creature's head. While we cooked the ducks, he roasted a piece of the snake's flesh at the fire, and ate it in preference to them. We had now to decide what course to pursue, whether to take the eastern or western side of the lake. Charley was disposed to think that we should find the western very marshy, for, looking in that direction, the ground appeared to be covered with tall reeds, while the distance round the eastern side would evidently be much longer. On consulting Aboh, he gave the preference to the eastern side, intimating that the people we had seen, who had attacked the slaves, resided between the lake and the sea, and that probably they would not allow us to pass through their territory without depriving us of everything we possessed, even should we escape with our lives. "If you'll take my advice, gentlemen, before we start, you'll make some hats to keep the sun off your heads; it won't take us long, and depend upon it, we shall find it very hot along the borders of the lake. Mr Westerton, I daresay, knows how to make a straw hat as well as I do." Charley said he did, and he and Tom quickly procured a quantity of dried palm-leaves, which, splitting up, they formed into wide rough plaits. Harry and I imitated their example. In a few minutes they had enough plaited to form a hat, when, with some large thorns for needles, and fibre for thread, they stitched the plaiting together as quickly as they made it Harry and I were longer about our task, for we managed to make only one hat while they put together two, but in less than an hour we were each provided with a very fair straw hat. Some handkerchiefs, which we had brought from on board served to line them, and make them more impervious to the sun. Our task completed, strapping our knapsacks on our backs and shouldering our rifles, we commenced our march along the shores of the lake. CHAPTER EIGHT. OUR MARCH WESTWARD ALONG THE SHORES OF THE LAKE--TOM AND THE CROCODILE-- CHARGE OF ELEPHANTS--A NARROW ESCAPE FOR CHARLEY--ANXIETY ON TOM'S ACCOUNT--BESIEGED IN A TREE--WE HAVE RECOURSE TO STRATAGEM AND RECOVER OUR RIFLES--ABOH'S DARING--RENEWED ATTACK--THE ENEMY REPULSED--SEARCH FOR OUR COMPANION, WHOM WE FIND SEVERELY INJURED--WE CAMP--DANGER FROM CROCODILES--COOKING THE ELEPHANT-MEAT--ABOH'S SKILL--STRANGE NOISES HEARD AT NIGHT--WE ARE COMPELLED TO HALT--AN AFRICAN FOREST GIANT--TOM RECOVERING FROM THE ACCIDENT SLOWLY--CHARLEY PROPOSES TO BUILD A CANOE. According to Aboh's advice we proceeded eastward, with the lake on one side and the vast trees of the forest rising up to an immense height on our right. Frequently the indentations in the shores of the lake compelled us to keep away from the water, when we trudged on completely surrounded by trees. Even at mid-day it was dark and gloomy, not a ray of the sun penetrating to the ground which we trod. Sometimes the silence was profound, when suddenly it was broken by the shrill scream of a parrot, or the chatter of a monkey as he caught sight of us from his leafy covert. We saw no other animals, though we discovered elephant tracks and other marks on the ground. Aboh, on examining them, said that they were made by leopards, those savage animals abounding in the forest through which we were passing. On the shore of the lake, however, we caught sight of numerous crocodiles, some poking their ugly snouts above the surface of the water, others basking on sandbanks, or on the points projecting out into the water. Once, as we were keeping along the shore, the head of a huge monster rose not ten feet from us. Aboh shouted, "Run, massa, run." His warning came only just in time. Charley, who was farthest from the water, instantly brought his rifle to his shoulder as he saw the crocodile making a dash at Tom, who was nearest to him. Aboh shouted and shrieked to scare the creature. Its jaws were within a foot of Tom's legs, when Charley, knowing that our companion's life depended upon the correctness of his aim pulled the trigger and the ball entered the monster's head through the eye. Tom gave a desperate leap on one side, the crocodile still moved on, and I fancied that Charley must have missed. Harry and I, imitating Tom's example, sprang out of its way. It had not run five yards on dry ground, however, before it stopped, then rolling on its side, began to kick violently. Harry quickly had his rifle ready, and firing down its throat, put an end to its struggles. Aboh proposed cutting some slices out of its body for dinner, but we declined joining him in the repast, as we hoped to catch as many birds and monkeys as we might require. The narrow escape we had had taught us that we must in future avoid marching close to the water, and that it would be prudent to keep a bright look-out when near the shores of the lake not to run the risk of being snapped up by a crocodile. We were disappointed in consequence of this at not being able to sleep securely, as we had expected, close down to the water, so that we might have only one side of our camp to defend. From the experience we had obtained we now saw that we should run a greater chance of being carried off by crocodiles than even by lions or leopards. We had marched on for about an hour after the occurrence I have described, when finding that we could cut off a point by proceeding straight on, we had of necessity to leave the shore of the lake, the water of which we had hitherto always had in sight. We had made good some distance, often having to cut away the creepers which impeded our path, and were expecting soon again to catch sight of the water, when loud trumpeting sounds reached our ears. We stopped to listen, and were soon convinced that the sounds we heard were uttered by elephants, and, moreover, that they were for some cause or other excited by rage. However, as the animals were, we judged, still at some distance on our right hand, we agreed to continue our course, hoping that they would not discover us. In case they should do so, and we should have to defend ourselves, we put bullets into our rifles. The evening was approaching, and it was necessary to look out for a spot sufficiently open to enable us to light the fire, and at the same time not in too dangerous proximity to the lake. That we might have a better chance of finding the spot we were in search of, we separated, Tubbs and Charley going on ahead, while Harry, Aboh, and I searched round on either side of where we then were. We found that we were at no great distance from the lake, the shining water of which we saw between the trees. "Here's a spot just suitable for us," cried Harry, "but we shall have to cut down the grass that the fire may not spread, otherwise we may create a blaze which would prove very inconvenient." Just as he spoke the trumpeting sounds we had before heard again reached our ears, but very much nearer. Aboh stopped in an attitude of listening. Presently there came a noise as of the crashing of branches and the tramping of heavy feet on the ground. "Elephant come dis way," exclaimed Aboh; "run, massa, run;" and he set off in the direction of the lake, pointing to a large tree at no great distance from us. Harry and I followed his example, hoping that Charley and Tubbs would hear the sounds in time to make their escape. The trumpeting and crashing sounds drew nearer. Presently we caught sight of several huge trunks lifted in the air, with gleaming tusks below them, and the huge heads of the savage monsters among the leaves. "Here, massa, here, get up!" exclaimed Aboh, reaching the foot of the tree. As he spoke, seizing a bough, he swung himself up with the agility of a monkey onto a lower branch. I cast my eye behind me, when what was my horror to see Charley coming along with three or four elephants dashing at full speed not thirty yards behind him. It seemed scarcely possible that he could reach a place of safety before he was overtaken. All my thoughts were now turned on Charley, and I regretted that I had not managed to hand my rifle to Aboh before climbing up myself. Charley had dropped his, and came bounding along, the elephants, however, gaining on him. He saw us, and made towards the tree. Aboh and I stooped down to catch his hands and help him up. He was within twenty yards of us, when his foot caught in one of the treacherous vines which crept in snakelike coils over the ground and hung from numberless branches, and he fell. He was instantly, however, again on his feet, and came rushing on as before; but the delay had enabled the leading elephant to gain on him. We shrieked and shouted to encourage him, or perhaps impelled to do so by our fears. He reached the foot of the tree. In another instant the elephant would have seized him with its trunk or trampled him under its feet. Had he not possessed unusual activity his destruction would have been certain. He grasped the bough nearest him. Aboh sprang down and got him by one hand. I seized him by the other. The elephant's trunk was already touching his leg, which would the next moment have been encircled in its fatal embrace. We tugged and hauled; the animal caught his shoe, which happily gave way, and Charley was out of its reach. We now breathed more freely, for the tree was far too stout to enable the elephants to tear it down. The beast which had so nearly caught Charley stood trumpeting with rage beneath our feet, lifting up his trunk in a vain attempt to reach us. We, as may be supposed, climbed higher up, so as to be well out of his way. In a few seconds the remainder of the herd came up, surrounding the tree and all trumpeting together. It was a sound sufficient to make our hearts quail. Had we possessed our rifles, we might have quickly put an end to the animals, mighty as they seemed. Fortunately, in their rage they did not discover them, as they were concealed in the tall grass and leaves between the roots. We dreaded, however, every instant that their feet would come down and crush them, when they, in all probability, would have been rendered perfectly useless. Our thoughts were now turned towards Tom. Charley said that he had lost sight of him just before he saw the elephants, but that he trusted he had sought safety in a tree as we had done. We shouted out, hoping that he would hear us; but the trumpeting of the elephants drowned our voices. However, although we did not get any answer, we still hoped that he might have escaped. "I wish that I had not lost my rifle," said Charley, "although I think I should be able to find it again if the beasts did not trample upon it, and I don't think they did, for I threw it as far from me as I could into a thick bush." "If you hadn't thrown it away, both you and it would have been crushed to pieces," answered Harry. "I think it is fortunate that you had presence of mind to get rid of it. But, I say, I wonder whether these beasts are going to lay siege to us all night. I'm getting very hungry. If they don't go away we shall be starved." "Perhaps the best thing we can do is to climb up higher and hide ourselves, and then, when they don't see us, their rage may abate, and they will go away," I remarked. "They are not likely to remain here all night, and will probably go to the lake to drink, and give us time, at all events, to get down and recover our rifles." "What does Aboh think about the matter?" asked Charley. I inquired of the black, making the usual signs by means of which we carried on a conversation with him, and using such simple words as he was likely to understand. He evidently comprehended what I said, and highly approved of our plan of hiding ourselves, setting the example by climbing up and concealing himself from the elephants below. We three did the same, though I managed still to watch them by peeping through the leaves of the bough on which I had perched myself. The creatures in a short time ceased their trumpeting, but still remained walking slowly round and round the tree, looking up in a sagacious fashion to ascertain what had become of us. At last they appeared either to forget us, or to fancy that we were birds, and had flown away. The biggest elephant, which had so nearly caught Charley, then led the way down to the lake, the rest following him. It was with infinite satisfaction that we saw them go. "Now, quick, quick! let us get our rifles, at all events, before they come back," whispered Charley. Aboh, seeing me about to descend, made a sign that he would go himself, and, with wonderful agility, he slipped down the tree, while Charley descended to the lowest bough to reach the rifles as he handed them up. I followed, keeping a little above my brother, that I might pass them on to Harry. I felt very thankful when Aboh handed up my rifle to Charley, who giving it to me, I passed it on to Harry. Aboh then, again slipping down, handed up Harry's. To our infinite relief neither of them were injured, though the feet of the elephants must have trampled the ground on either side. "Him go get massa officer's rifle," said Aboh, who was delighted to make use of some of the words with which he was best acquainted; and without waiting to obtain our sanction, he darted off in the direction from which Charley came. "See if you can find Tom anywhere," I shouted. Aboh turned and made a sign to us to be silent, pointing at the same time towards the lake, where the elephants were drinking. I regretted having cried out, lest my voice should have attracted the creatures' attention, and might cause them to return and look for us. Although Aboh probably thought that Tom was concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood, yet, knowing the importance of silence, he did not cry out to ascertain his position. We watched him anxiously, for we feared that at any moment the elephants might come back before he could discover the rifle, which might take some time to find. We saw him hunting about, but Charley said that he thought the spot where he had thrown it away was much farther off. At length he was altogether hidden from our sight by the thick foliage. "Harry, do you climb up and keep a look-out for the elephants, and Dick and I will stand by to help up Aboh when he comes back. If you see the beasts coming, send a shot into the head of the leader; if you don't kill him, it will probably bring him to a standstill or turn him aside, and give the black more time to climb up the tree," said Charley. "Ay, ay!" answered Harry, taking his rifle; "I'll do my best to stop the brutes coming this way, at all events." Charley and I waited on the lower branches, my brother being beneath me, watching for the return of Aboh. At last we saw him coming along with Charley's rifle in his hand. At the same instant Harry shouted out-- "Here come the elephants with their trunks turned up, but they are walking leisurely along, as if they had forgotten all about us." "Don't fire, then, unless they come close to the tree," answered Charley, while he made signs to Aboh to hasten his steps, pointing as he did so towards the lake. Aboh sprang forward, but the quick ears and quick sight of the elephants had detected him, and sticking out their trunks, they begun trumpeting and moving rapidly forward. I scarcely thought it possible that Aboh could escape them. Just then we heard the report of Harry's rifle over our heads. A shriek of rage escaped the leading elephant, and he had, we concluded, been hit. At the same moment Aboh stopped, and levelling his rifle, fired. The ball struck the animal, which, however, still came on, although at a slower pace than before, and Aboh, grasping the rifle, darted up the tree holding it above his head, so that Charley could stoop down and seize it by the barrel. Handing it to me, he was able to assist Aboh, who nimbly scrambled up. We all then retreated to our former resting-places, out of the reach of the elephants' trunks. The whole herd came on, the leader bleeding but still trumpeting furiously. We, however, had him in our power, and felt pretty sure that his trumpetings would soon be over. My weapon was still loaded, Charley asked me to let him have it, as he was in a better position for firing than I was. I handed it to him, and as the elephants came near he took aim at the leader, waiting until in his circuit round the tree his head presented a fair mark. He fired, the huge monster immediately sank down, and almost without a struggle was dead. We could not resist joining Aboh in the loud shout of triumph he raised as we saw our enemy destroyed. On the fall of their leader, the other elephants became alarmed, and uttering a few trumpetings, more of fear than anger, rushed off together into the forest, crushing down the shrubs and young trees as they went, making a good pathway towards the southward, which would have saved us much trouble to have followed had we wished to go in that direction. We now, feeling sure that they would not return, descended. Our first care on reaching the ground was to reload our rifles. "I wish that we could carry off the tusks," said Harry. "I'm sure they would be worth no small number of dollars if they were safe on board." "It is very certain that we cannot get them down to the sea at present, and probably before we can return to fetch them some other hunters will have carried them off," observed Charley. While we were discussing the subject, Aboh had got out his knife and was working away at one of the animal's feet, which he succeeded in cleverly amputating. "Him good eat," said the black pointing to the foot he had just cut off. Although we certainly could not agree with him, we did not contradict his assertion. He then cut some slices out of the back, which had not a more attractive appearance than the foot. The black, however, seemed to think that we had now an ample supply of food. We should have camped on the spot, as the shades of evening were already coming on, had we not been anxious to discover Tom. "We must find him before nightfall," I observed; "for even although the creatures may not have killed him, he may be injured and unable to rejoin us." "Certainly, unless he has got to a considerable distance, he must have heard our shouts," remarked Harry. Charley agreed with us, and we accordingly proceeded in the direction of the spot where Charley had left our companion. As we went on we shouted out his name, while we looked carefully on either side, dreading at any moment to discover his mangled remains. Aboh hunted about with great care, but for some distance the ground was so trampled by the elephants' feet, and the trees and shrubs so torn, that any footsteps of a human being must effectually have been obliterated. Presently, however, we crossed the path formed by the herd as they had made their way towards us, and all traces of them ceased. A short time afterwards we saw Aboh examining the ground, then he pointed ahead and went on at a rapid rate, we following his footsteps. Again he stopped, and stooping down picked up a rifle. We recognised it as Tom's. What had become of its owner? Still Aboh went on. By this time the forest was so shrouded in the gloom of approaching night that we could with difficulty see anything before us. Again Aboh stopped and cried out, "Him here! him here!" We hurried forward. There was our poor friend stretched on the ground, his leg caught in a vine below a tall tree with branches coming close to the ground. The dreadful thought seized me that he was dead. "Tom, Mr Tubbs, speak to me," I cried out I heard a groan. At all events, he was alive. Stooping down, I rested his head on my knee. Charley and Harry quickly came up. We soon released poor Tom's foot. On examining it, we feared that it was dislocated, or at all events severely sprained, and that probably he had fainted from the pain. Having water in our flasks, we poured some down his throat. By wetting his hands and chafing his arms we in a short time brought him to. He looked round him, evidently very much astonished. "Where am I, mates? What has happened?" he asked at length. "I was dreaming that a shark or a tiger or some beast or other had bitten off my foot." "Not so bad as that," said Charley, "although you have hurt it considerably, I fear." "Ah, now I recollect all about it. I was afraid, Mr Westerton, that you were caught by the elephants, and I was expecting to share the same fate. As I could not help you, I thought the wisest thing I could do was to run for my life. I confess it, I never was in such a fright before. I somehow dropped my gun, and then, just as I was about to climb up into that tree overhead, I found myself caught with a round turn about my leg, and down I came. The honest truth is, I don't remember anything more of what happened after that." It would have been unjust to blame poor Tom for the very natural panic which had seized him on finding himself alone in the forest, and, as he supposed, with his companions killed. He had acted as most people would have done under similar circumstances, and endeavoured to save his life. We fortunately found not far off just such an open space as we were searching for. Our first business was to light a fire in the centre of it, after having cut away the surrounding grass. "We must keep up a good blare, or we may have some unwelcome visits from wild beasts," said Charley. "It will be necessary to keep an eye towards the lake, or one of those horrid crocodiles may be crawling up in search of some supper when the odour of the roasted elephant-meat reaches his nose." While Charley and I attended to poor Tom, Harry and Aboh made up the fire as proposed. We had brought an iron saucepan, with which Aboh intimated that he would go down to the lake to get some water, making a sign to Harry to accompany him with his gun. "If big ting come out of de water, fire at him head," he said, showing that he was fully alive to the danger of approaching the lake, especially of an evening, when the crocodiles are more active than at other times during the day. We kept the fire blazing up brightly, so that it might scare any wild beasts prowling round about us. However, not trusting to that alone, Charley and I kept our rifles by our sides and our eyes about us, lest a lion or leopard might spring upon us unawares. Having got off Tom's boot and sock, we examined his ankle. It looked blue and swollen, and when we touched it he complained that it pained him much. Still, as far as we could judge, no bone was broken. "The only thing I can think of is to bind it up in a wet handkerchief," observed Charley; "the inflammation may thus be allayed." While we were speaking we heard a shot from Harry's gun, showing that we must not expect to obtain even a saucepan of water without trouble. Shortly afterwards Aboh returned with the water. Charley asked for some of it, and saturating a handkerchief, which he fortunately had in his pocket, he bound up Tom's ankle. Harry told us that scarcely had Aboh dipped the saucepan into the water, than a crocodile poked its ugly head above the surface and made a dash at him. "I was too quick, however, and firing, hit the creature in the throat, when it slid off again into deep water," he added, "whether killed or not I cannot say, as it sank immediately." "You have done so well that we must get you to make another trip as soon as we have eaten our soup, which, I suppose, Aboh intends to make out of the elephant-meat, for I doubt if it will be palatable cooked in any other way," said Charley. We found that the black had brought several stones from the shores of the lake. He now, having placed them in the fire, dug a hole near at hand, into which he scraped some of the ashes, and then put in the stones with the elephant's foot on the top of them. Above this having placed some thick leaves, he quickly filled up the hole. "Him soon good eat," he said. Harry had in the meantime cut up some pieces of elephant-meat, which he put into the saucepan. Having placed it on the fire, he stuck some other slices on forked sticks as close as they could be placed to the flames. "We shall have the opportunity of trying the comparative excellencies of three styles of cooking," he observed, laughing. "I have no great faith in Aboh's mode of proceeding," remarked Charley. "Nor have I, except to produce any especially excellent soup," said Harry. Our patience was to be severely exercised. We were all so hungry that Charley consented to serve out a small piece of biscuit to each of us, just to stay our appetites; but that produced a very transient effect. At first I saw him tightening his waist-belt; then I had to tighten mine, as Harry did his. Poor Tom was suffering too much pain to care about eating, and Aboh was well accustomed to endure long hours of fasting. "When is that mess of yours likely to be ready?" Charley and I kept crying out to Harry. "I think that it is done to a turn now," said Harry, and he produced five pieces of black-looking stuff. "A very long turn," said Charley as he took his share. "Why, it's as hard and dry as shoe-leather, and quite as tough, I suspect." "Chew it, man, chew it," answered Charley, laughing; "it's better than that in the soup." We all cut off little bits, hunger making us in no way particular; but it was a difficult business to get down a mouthful. At last I took to scraping it with my knife, by which means I was able to swallow more than I otherwise could have done. We next tried the soup. The warm liquid could at all events be swallowed, and it appeared to do good to poor Tom, to whom we gave several cupfuls. The meat, however, was scarcely an improvement upon the steaks. Aboh had been watching us all the time while he munched his share without showing a sign of dissatisfaction. "As we shall want some more water for poor Tom's foot, I wish you would go down, Harry, to the lake and fill the saucepan," said Charley. "I will go with Aboh willingly enough, provided he carries a torch, for otherwise the chances are that we shall not get off as easily as we did before," answered Harry. Aboh understood what was proposed, and taking a brand from the fire in one hand, and the saucepan in the other, he set off, Harry accompanying him with his rifle ready for instant use. Charley and I, in the meantime, got up and examined the forest around us. Strange noises were issuing from it; but our ears being unaccustomed to the sounds of an African wilderness, we could not distinguish either the animals or birds which produced them. Here and there we picked up sticks, which we carried to the heap prepared for keeping up the fire during the night. I was stooping down, expecting to take up a thin stick, when I saw it glide away. I had nearly caught hold of a snake by the body. It might have been harmless, but if venomous, I should have probably been fatally bitten. I sprang back, as may be supposed, and was very cautious after this to feel with the pole I carried in my hand before I picked up any other sticks. In a short time Harry and Aboh came back with the saucepan of water, from which we filled our mugs, for the tough elephant-meat made us thirsty. We were all suffering from hunger, and as we expected to find Aboh's dish as unpalatable as ours, we had made up our minds to lie down, if not exactly supperless, as hungry almost as before. "Now, massa, him 'tink foot ready," said Aboh, and without more ado, he opened the hole and produced the foot hot and steaming. Just taking off the top, as if it had been a piece of piecrust, what was our surprise and very great satisfaction to find the interior full of a rich glutinous substance. We eagerly hooked it out with our knives, and it was pronounced excellent jelly, although somewhat strong tasted. The single foot contained more than we altogether could eat, although Aboh got through twice as much as either of the rest of us. We regretted that we had not brought along more of the elephant's feet. Instead of going supperless to bed, we thus had a more ample meal than we had eaten since we landed. As it was important that Tom should have a night's rest, Charley, Harry, and I agreed to keep watch in turns. We did not ask Aboh, though he would, we felt sure, have proved trustworthy. I had the middle watch. As I walked round and round the camp, my ears were saluted by distant mutterings and the occasional roar of lions, the trumpetings of elephants, or the shrill agonised cry of some hapless deer on which a stealthy leopard had pounced, the shrieks of night birds, the chirp of insects, and the croaking of frogs. Every moment I expected to see some monster shove its nose out amid the dark foliage; but if any came near, the fire prevented them from springing on us. I occasionally stooped down and wetted Tom's bandage, so that his leg was kept cool all the night. Charging Harry to do the same, I at length lay down, and in a moment was fast asleep. Next morning we found Tom better, but utterly unable to proceed. We, therefore, had to make up our minds to camp for another day at least, unless we could manage to find a canoe in which to cross the lake. Harry and I, as soon as we were on foot, took our guns, accompanied by Aboh, in search of game for breakfast. We soon came upon a number of ducks, and were fortunate in killing half a dozen in three shots, two being brought to the ground each time we fired. We did not forget the crocodiles, nor did Aboh, who was very wary when picking up the birds. As we made our way through the forest, I was especially struck by the variety and luxuriance of the trees and shrubs, the number of vines which hung from the branches in wreaths and festoons, the length of the leaves, some rising from the ground, others forming crowns on the summits of tall trees, surmounted by flowers of bright red or yellow or blue. "Dere, massa, what you 'tink dat?" said Aboh, throwing himself on the ground as if to contemplate at his ease the magnificent tree before which we stood. "Him 'board ship worth many tusks." "What tree is it?" I asked. It was certainly one of the finest and most graceful trees we had yet met with in the African forest. Its leaves were long, sharp-pointed, and dark green, hanging in large clusters. Its bark was also a dark green and very smooth. The trunk rose straight and clean to the height of sixty feet or more, from whence large leafy branches projected to a considerable distance. Aboh pointed to his own skin and then laughed. "He means that it's an ebony tree, and so I'm sure it is," said Harry. "It is one of those articles we were to have procured." On examining the tree we found that it was hollow, and Aboh made us understand that the branches also were hollow. On cutting through the bark we came to some white wood, which at first puzzled us. We expected to have found it black, but Aboh made signs that we were to cut deeper into it, and we thus ascertained that the white wood was simply sap wood, and that farther in the wood was perfectly black. We found several others of the same description growing around; and we agreed that if we could fall in with some friendly natives, we would advise them to cut the trees down, and should any navigable river exist running out of the lake, to convey them to its mouth, where they could be embarked. We, however, had to hurry back to cook our ducks for breakfast. We continued keeping our poor companion's ankle constantly wetted, but, to our disappointment, even the next day he was unable to do more than stand up. The moment he attempted to walk, the pain returned, and we had to make up our minds for a longer stay. Charley proposed that we should cut down a tree and scoop out a canoe in which to cross the lake. When he explained his intentions, however, to Aboh, the black replied that it would take us several weeks, if not months, to construct a canoe, and that we should get round the lake much faster by land. "That may be the case," said Charley; "but suppose Tom's ankle is broken, or so injured that he is unable to walk, we shall have no alternative. We cannot leave him behind us in this wild forest, and we must try to find a village of friendly natives, where he can remain until he is recovered." "I'm sorry to keep you back, gentlemen, and if it was a matter of life or death, I'd say go on and leave me behind, but it would be a terrible thing if that were necessary; so I would rather say, let us build a canoe, or, if we cannot, a raft on which we can cross the lake. I don't think it would take as long as Aboh supposes, if we could find a soft tree. He doesn't know what our sharp axes can do; besides, we can clear out the inside with fire. Even if I hadn't sprained my ankle, I again say, provided that we can find the right tree, let us build a canoe." Charley agreed with Tubbs, and Harry and I had no strong opinion the other way. We told Aboh we wished he would hunt about to find a big tree of soft wood. Aboh agreed to do as we wished, at the same time he shook his head, saying, "Too long, too long." "No, no," answered Tom; "we will build a handsome short craft with plenty of beam, so that we may turn her about in any of the narrow streams through which we may have to make our way." CHAPTER NINE. DETERMINED TO OVERCOME OUR DIFFICULTY, WE DECIDE ON BUILDING A CANOE, WHEN UNLOOKED-FOR HELP ARRIVES, AND ABOH FINDS A RELATIVE--A PLEASANT BREAKFAST--TOM TAKEN ACROSS THE LAKE BY THE BLACKS--WE PREPARE A PRESENT OF GAME FOR THE KING--LOOKING OUT FOR THE RETURN OF THE CANOE--THE CROCODILE AND ITS VICTIM--WE CAMP FOR THE NIGHT--AN UNWELCOME VISITOR--A FORTUNATE SHOT--THE LEOPARD'S SKIN--RETURN OF THE CANOE--WE EMBARK-- STORM ON THE LAKE--SAFE AGAIN WITH TOM TUBBS--A NATIVE DOCTOR DECLARES THE KING BEWITCHED--WE CHANGE THE BOWL OF POISON--PRESENTED TO KING QUAGOMOLO--THE TEST OF THE "POISON-CUP" APPLIED--THE KING'S QUICK RECOVERY CELEBRATED WITH REJOICINGS--TOM HAVING PERFECTLY RECOVERED, WE DETERMINE TO RECOMMENCE OUR JOURNEY--THE KING FINDS MEANS TO DELAY AND DETAIN US--I SAVE THE KING'S CHILD FROM A CROCODILE--PRISONERS. The very evening on which we had determined to form a canoe, we commenced our search for a tree suitable for the purpose. In vain, however, we hunted in the neighbourhood of the lake. Aboh pointed to the south. "Find him dere," he said. We were, however, unwilling to go to a distance from our companion, for we knew not to what dangers he might be exposed should he be left alone, even although he was able to sit up and handle his rifle, and might perhaps have hobbled to a short distance. Still he would have to do that at the risk of again injuring his ankle. "I will remain with him if you and Charley like to set off with Aboh as a guide," said Harry. "If you can find a tree at no great distance, you can cut it down and shape it where it falls, so that it will not give us much trouble to transport it to the lake." "More than you suspect, unless we can find a level path down to the water," observed Charley. Though I agreed with my brother, we notwithstanding made up our minds to start early the following morning, and should we find a tree suitable for a canoe within a mile or so, to cut it down; but if not, to give up the undertaking. We had cooked overnight some waterfowl for provisions, and Aboh, I should have said, had found some fruits, which were highly acceptable. We rose at daybreak, summoned by Harry, who had kept the morning watch, and at once set off, having determined not to wait for breakfast, as we wished to have the whole day before us. Charley and I directed our course to the shore of the lake, to which we had discovered a path, formed probably by elephants, leading directly to the water. Just as we were approaching the lake, we caught sight through the bushes of a canoe paddled by a single rower skimming lightly over the surface towards us. Wishing to open a communication with the man in the canoe in order to obtain information from him as to the best course we could take to get to the northward, or perhaps to induce him to ferry us across, we hid behind the bushes. The stranger, by his movements, appeared not to be aware that any one was in the neighbourhood, and came on without hesitation to the shore, close to the spot where we were hid. Aboh had remained behind to assist Tom in gathering sticks and lighting the fire, while Harry had settled to come a short distance with us. The black had on no other garment but the usual white cloth, showing that he belonged to one of the wild tribes to the west. He ran his canoe right up on the bank, and then without hesitation stepped out, carrying a spear in one hand, a quiver of arrows on his back, and a bow in the other. We allowed him to advance some distance, until suddenly he came in sight of Tom and Aboh engaged in making up the fire. Immediately stopping, he was about to fix an arrow in his bow, when Charley and I showed ourselves. On seeing us he retreated a few paces, and then fell to the ground overcome by terror. Charley and I, wishing to reassure him, advanced as Harry came up to him. The black, seizing his foot, placed it on his neck in token of submission. So sudden was the movement that Harry, who could not prevent him from doing this, was nearly upset, and would have been so had not he supported himself by his rifle. On this I turned round and shouted to Aboh to come and interpret for us. As Aboh approached, Charley and I stooped down and lifted up the negro, who was still trembling with alarm, though we endeavoured by the tone of our voices and our gestures to reassure him. "Come, Aboh, come; let him know that we are friends," cried my brother. Aboh hurried up. As he got near he stopped, gazing with astonished looks at the stranger, uttering a few words unintelligible to us. The stranger answered in the same language. Soon they began to speak more rapidly, stepping towards each other; then suddenly with loud exclamations of delight they sprang forward, and throwing themselves into each other's arms, burst out into tears. "Brodder! him brodder!" shouted out Aboh, turning round to us to signify that he had found a relative. This was indeed satisfactory, as the stranger would be able to render us all the assistance we required. His canoe, however, was but a small one, and certainly would not convey all the party across the lake. "We shall still have to build one, unless our friend here can find us another," said Charley. "I think a better plan would be to get Aboh and his brother to ferry Tom across the lake while we march round and find our way to his village." On explaining our proposal to Aboh, he had a long palaver with his brother. The result was not satisfactory. "Bad man dere," he said, pointing to the eastern end of the lake. "What do you advise, then?" asked Charley. "Stay here; Shimbo him go and bring back big canoe," was the answer. When we suggested that Aboh and Shimbo should take Tom across, they at once agreed to do so, Aboh observing that Shimbo's canoe would easily carry three people, but that it would require two canoes of similar size to paddle us all across. Tom had no objection to accompany the blacks, and we were anxious that he should get under shelter as soon as possible. We ourselves proposed remaining where we were and hunting, so that we might carry a good supply of game with us as a present to our friends' tribe. Instead, therefore, of starting off to look for a tree to make a canoe as we had intended, we all repaired to the fire which Tom had been blowing into a blaze, and soon had a number of wildfowl roasting before it. As soon as he saw our pot on the fire, Shimbo ran off to his canoe and brought back some plantains, which he set to work to peel; he then carefully washed them, and cutting them in several pieces, put them into the saucepan. Then he half filled it with water and covered it over with leaves, on the top of which he placed the banana peelings. The vegetables were boiled by the time the ducks were roasted. He also roasted a few ground-nuts, both of which were very acceptable to us after not having tasted vegetables for so long a time. We thought the boiled plantains were rather insipid, until Shimbo produced a bag full of cayenne pepper, with which he sprinkled them as he hooked them out of the pot, and placed them on some broad leaves to serve as plates. Altogether, we had not had so satisfactory a meal for some time. We told Aboh that we hoped to have plenty of game for his friends, and urged him to come back as soon as possible. Tom looked rather grave as we lifted him into the canoe. Perhaps he was not so confident as we were that he would receive a friendly reception. While watching the canoe as she skimmed over the calm surface of the lake urged by Aboh's and Shimbo's paddles, we could just see the blue outline of the opposite shore, with here and there what we supposed to be tall trees rising above those of the usual forest growth, but they might be hills or hillocks, so wide was the lake. It would evidently have taken us many a day's march to get round the way we proposed. Then we might have been stopped by the bad people of whom Aboh spoke. Our meditations on the subject were interrupted by the appearance of the snout of a crocodile, who, swimming by, had taken a fancy to have one of us for his lunch. We shouted loudly; he beat a retreat, looking out, while passing slowly on, for any unwary duck or other wildfowl floating calmly on the smooth water. "We must keep our promise and get as many birds as we can," said Charley; "so come along. It will be as well, however, not to separate, for we may fall in with a lion or leopard, or a herd of elephants. We ought to be ready to support each other." Harry and I of course agreed to this. We were very successful, and in the course of a couple of hours had shot three dozen ducks. Our difficulty, however, was to preserve them. Even though we hung them up on the boughs of trees, the ants would manage to get at them, or birds of prey were likely to carry them off, or, unless they were placed at a considerable distance from the ground, a leopard or other wild animal might do so; while it was necessary to look out for a shady spot, or they would have become uneatable before the following day. We accordingly set to work and made some baskets of vines, interwoven with thick leaves, which would protect them from all other creatures with the exception of the ants. This occupied us two hours or more, and we agreed that it would be useless to expend a further amount of powder. We then cooked a duck apiece, and the remainder of the roots and nuts which Shimbo had left us. After dinner we went down to the lake to look out for the canoes, thinking that by this time Aboh might be returning; but none were to be seen as far as our eyes could reach over the surface of the water. We, therefore, walked along under the shade of the trees, though at a safe distance to avoid danger from the sudden rush of a crocodile. After we had gone some way, we caught sight of a beautiful deer gazing into the waters of the lake, apparently admiring itself, and occasionally stooping down to draw up a mouthful. Retiring behind the trees, we advanced cautiously, hoping to get a shot, and to add the creature to our larder. I was ahead, and having got well within distance, had just raised my rifle, and was on the point of drawing my trigger, when I was startled by seeing a huge crocodile literally leap out of the water, and then, like a flash of lightning, spring back again, holding the unfortunate deer struggling violently in its tremendous jaws. I fired, but my bullet glanced off the side of the scaly monster, which disappeared with its victim. It was much the same to the deer whether it was eaten by us or the crocodile, but we were greatly disappointed at losing it. However, the occurrence made us look out more carefully for deer, as we might hope to catch one or two, and venison we calculated would be highly prized by our friends. Besides which, we ourselves were getting somewhat tired of duck every day. As we thought it very likely that another deer would come down during the afternoon to drink at the lake, we formed a screen of boughs, which served as a favourable look-out. While two of us kept watch for the deer, the third guarded the rear of our ambush lest a wild beast might carry off one of us for his supper, instead of our supping off deer as we hoped to do. It was very fortunate that we took these precautions. We had not occupied our posts more than a quarter of an hour when Harry, who was on the look-out, whispered-- "There's a creature crawling along not a hundred yards off." Charley took a glance round. "It's a leopard, and it evidently sees us; we must be ready to fire," he whispered. "But if we do, we shall frighten the deer; so don't pull a trigger unless it comes nearer," I observed. The leopard slowly crept by, being apparently itself in search of prey. It soon disappeared, and although we kept a bright look-out, it did not return. After this we waited patiently for nearly an hour, when we saw a small herd of deer coming down the glade. So anxious were we, that we scarcely dared breathe lest we should alarm them. I remembered the leopard, and thought that it might possibly be on the look-out for the deer, and might put them to flight before they could come within shot. On they trotted, however, as if thoughtless of danger. We allowed the leader to reach the water. Charley signed to me to point out the one at which I intended to aim. We each selected one. The cracks of our three rifles were heard almost at the same moment. Two of the deer fell killed. The third, at which Harry had aimed, attempted to escape, while the rest, looking about them with a startled glance, bounded off. Scarcely, however, had the leader gone a dozen yards than a leopard sprang out, and seizing the creature in its powerful jaws, carried it off through the forest. "Load, quickly, load," cried Charley. We did so, and then rushed out to secure the deer we had killed, fearing that another leopard might have a feast off it. We were not, however, molested, and with infinite satisfaction we dragged the animals one by one up to the neighbourhood of our camp, where we commenced cutting them up, although, I must confess, we were not expert in that part of the huntsman's art. By the time we had finished our task, and hung up the deer as near to our fire as possible, the sun had sunk below the horizon. We again went down to the lake, and were much disappointed at not seeing the canoe Aboh had promised to bring us. As it was not likely, therefore, that he would arrive that night, we made up our minds to camp at the same spot as before. There was no time to lose, and so, collecting firewood, we prepared to pass the night. It might seem an easy task to get a supply of sticks, but it was a dangerous one. Not only did we run the risk of disturbing some venomous snake, but were nearly certain to find scorpions almost as deadly among the dried wood. Our plan, therefore, was to scrape together the sticks with a long staff, and turn them over before attempting to bind them up into faggots for conveying to the camp. I had not long been thus employed, when a big scorpion crept out from a mass of bark; I laid my stick, which it bit severely, on its back, striking its sting into the wood before I crushed it to death. Having collected a sufficient amount of fuel to last for the night, we put up a lean-to, under which we could shelter ourselves from the night dew, though it would afford but a slight protection against any hungry animal which might venture near, as leopards and lions might occasionally do. We filled our saucepan with water, and made every preparation for the night, not forgetting to cook as much venison as we could possibly eat. Having taken a plentiful supper we were about to lie down, when Charley said that he would first take a look round the camp. Not far off was the huge trunk of a fallen tree, over which bushes had already begun to grow. I saw Charley suddenly sink down behind it, and as I was following him, he made a sign to me to creep along under its shelter. I did so, and presently caught sight of a huge animal advancing in a stealthy fashion along the open ground. I at once knew it to be a leopard. Charley put up his hand, signing me to be cautious. The leopard approached, attracted, I have no doubt, by the smell of the venison, or by the remainder of the carcasses of the deer, which were not far off. Whether or not it was the same leopard we had seen in the afternoon, I could not tell. The creature moved on in its cat-like fashion, looking cautiously around. Charley and I kept ourselves well concealed, still it apparently suspected that an enemy was near. It got directly in front of us. If Charley missed I must, I knew, take care to bring it down, for if not, it would make nothing of a bound over the tree, and would carry one of us off. Charley levelled his rifle; a sharp crack was heard ringing through the night air, answered by the chattering of numberless monkeys and the shrieks of flocks of parrots and other birds. The smoke for a moment prevented me seeing the leopard; the next instant, what was my horror to observe it approaching. In another instant it would have been upon us. I fired; it leapt high in the air, and rolled over close to the trunk of the tree. "Well done, Dick!" cried Charley. "I hit it, but my bullet missed the vital part." The leopard was perfectly dead. We easily found the two bullet-holes. Charley's bullet had struck the edge of a bone, and been slightly deflected. Had he been alone, the result might have been fatal to him. How thankful I felt that he had escaped! It was a lesson to us never to go out hunting singly, and we agreed that we would keep to that rule. The leopard had fallen just under the bough of a tree, and as we were anxious to preserve its skin, and yet did not wish to spend time in flaying the animal that night, we resolved to try and hoist it up to the bough, where it would remain safe till the morning. We accordingly cut a number of vines which grew near, and under Charley's directions formed a series of tackles, by means of which we succeeded, all hoisting together, in lifting it several feet off the ground. This done, we returned to our camp. While we had been thus engaged, we had run the risk, I suspect, of being attacked by another wild beast, either a leopard or lion, as when I was on watch I heard the mutterings of the last-named savage brutes in the distance. As I walked up and down in front of our fire while my brother and Harry were asleep, I watched the body of the leopard swinging in the air a few feet off, and kept my gun on the cock ready to fire should a lion approach, as I thought would very likely be the case, although I had no particular wish to have another battle that night. However, it so happened that we were left at rest. At early dawn we let down the carcase, and at once flayed it. Our object in doing so was to present the skin to the chief of the village we expected to visit, as we guessed it would be highly prized; besides which, the fact that we had killed the creature being known, would raise us in the estimation of the people. Having hung up the skin to dry, Harry and I went down to the lake, hoping to see the canoe of our friend, but we were again disappointed. Charley had, in the meantime, been preparing breakfast, roasting some more ducks, and the remainder of the ground-nuts left us by Shimbo. After this, we employed our time in scraping the inside of the leopard's skin, which gave us enough to do; we then made a sort of lye from the ashes of our fire, which would have, we hoped, some effect in preserving the skin, though we were aware that the process we adopted was very rude and imperfect. As several hours had passed since Tubbs and the two blacks had left us, we became somewhat anxious about them. If the natives had proved treacherous, Tom would very likely be put to death or kept a prisoner, and we should see nothing more of him. About noon, Harry and I had gone down to the lake to get a saucepan of water, when we remarked a tiny speck on the broad shining expanse of the lake, where nothing previously had been visible. "Hurrah! that must be the canoe at last," he exclaimed. I was of the same opinion. "If Charley were to have a look at it, he would be more certain about the matter," I observed; and running back, I called my brother. "Yes, there's no doubt about it; that must be the canoe," he said, after he had watched it attentively. We now hoped that we should at length get away from the spot where we had spent so much time. After watching for several minutes, though it was still at a great distance, and appeared to be approaching very slowly, we could distinctly make out the canoe. We had gone back to eat our dinners, as we had become hungry, when Harry said that he would go down to the lake to see if the canoe was near the shore. Just as he reached the water, we heard him cry out, "Here they are! here they are!" Charley and I ran down to join him. The next minute Aboh and Shimbo, with two other blacks, stepped out of a good-sized canoe, capable of carrying us three in addition. It was formed very much like the one we had intended to make out of the trunk of a tree. Aboh seemed as delighted to see us as if he had been away for several weeks. Why he had not returned sooner, we could not exactly make out, but we understood that the king of the village, Quagomolo, was very ill, and as the only large canoes belonged to him, Aboh could not see him to obtain the one he wished for. Our friends had brought a supply of plantains and several other things--manioc, sugar-cane, and squashes. There were provisions enough for us and themselves for several days. Before commencing the return voyage, they insisted we should cook them and have a feast. "We have already had our dinner," said Charley. "Bery good! but we,--we empty stomach. No good go sea without eat," answered Aboh. By which he let us understand that he and his companions required food, and were not entirely disinterested in pressing us to have a feast on the provisions they had brought. On seeing the deer and the ducks we had shot, their eyes brightened. Aboh and Shimbo were both very good cooks, and immediately set to work to dress both the venison and the vegetables. Their only regret was, that we had not some rum to give them, the taste of which they had acquired from the white traders who occasionally came up to their village. I should have said that Aboh gave us a good report of Tom, who was being well treated by the inhabitants of the village, by whom we also expected to be received in a friendly manner. Aboh and Shimbo were so long in preparing the viands, that by the time they announced that all were sufficiently cooked, we were perfectly ready to fall to. We enjoyed our meal, and as soon as it was over, Charley proposed that we should start without delay. The ducks and the venison were carried down to the canoe, as well as the leopard skin. By the time we had taken our seats, it appeared to us greatly overloaded; still our black friends were unwilling to leave any provisions behind. Aboh, pointing to the leopard skin, exclaimed, "King, him like much;" so that we hoped our gift would be acceptable to his sable majesty. The day was pretty well advanced, but we hoped to get across the lake before nightfall. All being ready, our black crew seizing their paddles, the canoe began to glide across the lake. Charley took a fifth paddle with which to steer, but he soon found that the blacks could manage the canoe perfectly well without his assistance. The heat was so great on the water that we were all thankful to avoid any unnecessary exertion. The blacks as they paddled sang a low monotonous song, more like a dirge. What it was about we could not tell. By looking back we saw that we had got some distance from the land, although we appeared not to have approached nearer the opposite shore, which still remained as indistinct as before. After some time the blacks ceased their song, and I saw them gazing round at the sky, the appearance of which was rapidly changing. The sun suddenly disappeared behind a dark bank of cloud coming up from the west, and a leaden hue overspread the hitherto sparkling water, at the same time that a strong wind began to blow. This soon broke the hitherto tranquil lake into hissing wavelets, which continually toppled over into the canoe. Aboh, turning round, handed to each of us a bason formed from a gourd, and made signs that we should bale out the water as it came in. He and his companions then redoubled their efforts. I caught a glimpse of his countenance as he turned round; it showed that he was far from satisfied with the appearance of the weather. I asked Charley what he thought about the matter. "I'm afraid that we are going to have a gale; and if so, a nasty sea will get up, and we shall be obliged to heave our cargo overboard, although we will not do so until it becomes absolutely necessary." Every instant the wind increased, and the blacks paddled harder and harder. At present it was on our beam, although, should it come ahead, we should make but little progress, or perhaps be compelled to run back to the place we had left. Notwithstanding the threatening aspect of the weather, Aboh and his companions seemed determined to continue their course. The water kept tumbling on board, but we continued baling it out as fast as we could. "I'm afraid that we must heave the birds and venison overboard," said Charley. I made Aboh understand what we proposed doing. "No, no," was the answer; "dat all right." He and his companions paddled on bravely for another half hour. By this time it had become perfectly dark, and we could not discover the land ahead, but the black fellows seemed to guide their course by instinct, for I could see no welcoming beacon on the shore. To our satisfaction the wind did not increase, though the canoe tumbled about a good deal, and not for a moment were we able to cease baling. The blacks paddled on bravely through the pitchy darkness. Suddenly a flash of lightning burst from the clouds, followed by a tremendous roar of thunder. I could see the flame dancing along over the water, mercifully avoiding our canoe, leaving all in darkness beyond. The blacks for a moment ceased paddling. "Go on, go on," I cried out to Aboh; "this is no time to stop; the sooner we reach the shore the sooner we shall be in safety." Aboh repeated what I had said to his companions, and, thus encouraged, all hands paddled away as before. As no land was in sight, I could not make out how they managed to steer a straight course, but they seemed perfectly satisfied that they were going right. Probably they were guided by the wind on one side. Had it shifted, they would have been thrown out. This I greatly feared would be the case; and after all, might we be paddling up the lake instead of across it. Charley got out his pocket compass, but the wind prevented us striking a light, and it was consequently of no use. He kept it before him, however, in case another flash of lightning should enable him to see it. He had not long to wait. A vivid flash darted directly across the canoe. "Hurrah!" he exclaimed; "we are all right; we are steering due north." We had no longer, after this, any doubt about the judgment of our African friends. The thunder rolled, the lightning flashed, and we continued to bale away as the water washed into the canoe. For some moments the lightning ceased, and we hoped the storm was over; but we were mistaken. Another flash darted from the sky, more vivid than its predecessors, with a loud hissing, crackling sound. "Hurrah! I caught sight of some trees and a hut," exclaimed Charley. He was not mistaken, in less than a quarter of an hour after this, the canoe ran alongside the bank in a little bay, and our crew, jumping out, welcomed us on shore. Their loud shouts brought a number of people out of the neighbouring huts, who quickly unloaded the canoe; while we were conducted by Aboh and Shimbo to a hut which they said was prepared for our reception. Within we found Tom seated on a couch formed of bamboos. "Glad to see you, gentlemen, that I am," he exclaimed. "To say the truth, I had begun to fear that you would never come at all, as I have had some doubts about the intentions of our friends here. They were very kind, howsomever, for they fed me well and tried their skill at doctoring my foot, but I cannot say that they have done it any good; so I hope, Mr Westerton, that you will again take me in hand." We were thankful to find that Tom was in such good spirits. Charley, on looking at his foot, said he hoped, as the swelling had greatly gone down, that in a few days it would be as strong as ever. As it was so late at night, we expected to go supperless to bed, but we had not been long in the hut when a bevy of damsels arrived carrying baskets on their heads, containing cooked provisions enough, including some of our venison, to feed a dozen people. We were not sorry to partake of them, as we had become very hungry; but as we had had but little rest the previous night, we begged our entertainers to leave us in quiet, which they did not appear disposed to do. At length Aboh and Shimbo making their appearance, at our request turned all our guests out and allowed us to sleep in quiet. Next morning we were awakened by great shouting, and on inquiring the cause, ascertained that a famous doctor had come to cure the king, Quagomolo, of his disease, though what that was we could not ascertain. We went out to see this important personage, who presented a most fantastic appearance. His head was adorned with feathers, birds' beaks, and claws of leopards, hyenas, and other savage brutes; half his body was painted red, the other half white, while his face was daubed with streaks of alternate black, white, and red. Round his neck he wore numerous chains and charms, which tinkled and rattled as he moved about. After having paraded himself through the village to be admired by the inhabitants, he was introduced to the hut of the king, whom he had not yet seen. Finding no one to stop us, we shortly afterwards followed, when we saw the doctor seated on a low stool before a large earthenware pot, into which he was looking intently. This done, having seized a lighted torch smouldering by his side, he whirled it about his head till it burst into a flame. He then waved it over the pot, muttering some mysterious words. He continued this and similar performances for so long a time that we were getting weary of witnessing them, when suddenly a person rose from a couch at the further end of the room, whom we rightly supposed to be King Quagomolo. "Sit down, your majesty, sit down," exclaimed the doctor. "I'll soon say what's the matter with you." The king obeyed. Again the doctor waved his torch and gazed into the pot, and then declared that his majesty was bewitched. "Who are the people who have bewitched me?" asked the king in a trembling voice. "They are some men and women in your own kingdom, and not far off from this," answered the doctor in a deep bass voice which could be heard outside the hut, where a number of persons were collected. There was a general howl of alarm, for no one could tell who would be fixed on. The king, on hearing this, announced that the persons implicated must drink the poisoned water, usually given on such occasions. So we learned from Aboh, who had crept into the hut and squatted down beside us. "We must try to defeat the old rascal," whispered Charley. "Show us where the poison is to be concocted?" The doctor had now a drum brought him by an attendant, on which he began to beat vehemently, when the king again sank down on his couch. We on this quietly made our exit, and, led by Aboh, entered another hut, where, by the light of a single torch, some old women were concocting the mysterious beverage. We watched them until they had finished, when, leaving the bowl covered up by a piece of matting, they crept out one by one, holding up their hands, taking long, slow strides, and looking truly like witches themselves, and, as Harry observed, "Very bad specimens too." As soon as they were gone, finding a jug of pure water near at hand, Charley poured out the mixture into a corner, and filled up the bowl again with the harmless liquid. Fortunately, we found a basketful of what was evidently colouring matter, and having mixed some of it in the water, we covered the bowl up again and left the hut. We then went back to our hut. Finding that the king, in spite of the lateness of the hour, was ready to receive us, taking our two black friends, Aboh to act as interpreter, we carried with us the leopard skin, some venison, and three strings of beads of various colours. His majesty was a tall, ungainly looking man, with as hideous a countenance as can well be imagined. His appearance was not improved by the glare of the torchlight and the terror under which he was suffering. Having presented the leopard skin and venison, Charley, who acted as spokesman, threw the string of beads round his neck. "Tell him," he said to Aboh, "that those are powerful charms, and will quickly restore him to health." After a short palaver we begged leave to retire, assuring his majesty that he would be quite well in the morning, and that we were very sure that none of his subjects had bewitched him, as would then be proved. "If we succeed we shall have performed a very good work," said Charley, laughing, as we returned to our hut. Next morning the whole tribe was collected, and the accused persons brought forward. The bowl was handed round among them. No one to whom it was offered dared refuse to drink from it, although the distortions of their countenances showed the alarm under which they laboured. The king, who had been brought out to witness the ceremony on a litter, sat by watching them, and expecting, perhaps, to see some of them drop down dead. To our surprise three or four of them appeared greatly agitated, writhing about and making hideous faces, but we felt very sure that this was the result of imagination; and even these soon recovered, while the rest remained standing, and doing their best to smile and convince the king and their friends of their innocence. The effect on King Quagomolo was almost instantaneous, and before evening he declared himself perfectly recovered. To prove this, he summoned his liege subjects to attend a dance in honour of the event. No great preparations were required, and that very evening was fixed for the event. The king's wives, of whom he had no small number, and all the dames and damsels from far and wide, came trooping in, and arranged themselves in the large open space in the centre of the village. The men sat on the opposite side, with a line of musicians in front. These were mostly drummers, who beat their huge tom-toms with right good will, making the most fearful and deafening din. Others had brass kettles, and others hollow pieces of wood, which assisted greatly in the uproar; while at the same time both men and women sang, shouted, and shrieked, until we, who stood at a little distance off, could scarcely hear each other's voices. The barbarous overture being brought to a conclusion, the king, who had been seated amongst his wives, rose, and springing into the centre of the circle, began snapping his fingers, twisting and turning in all sorts of attitudes, leaping from the ground, kicking up one leg, then another, and throwing his arms round until it appeared that he would swing them off. "Here am I, my friends," he shouted. "Once I was ill, now I am well; and if our white friends here will stay with us, I never expect to be ill again." He danced and shouted until we thought he would have dropped. Presently he managed to spring back, exhibiting the utmost agility to the last, until he sat down again in the midst of his better halves, who had been amongst the most demonstrative of his applauders. Several of his chiefs then followed his example, but took good care not to surpass the king either in the time they danced or the activity they displayed. Before they sat down, several women sprang up, who, not being influenced by the same motives as the courtiers, contrived to twist and turn themselves in a way which was neither creditable to their modesty, nor pleasant to look at. We had good reason to be satisfied with this commencement of our intercourse with King Quagomolo. He presented us with abundance of food, and the hut built for our accommodation was clean and comfortable. In a short time, by careful treatment, Tom's ankle completely regained its strength, and he declared himself ready to continue the journey to the northward. We arranged, therefore, to start immediately, but we calculated without our host. When we told Aboh of our intentions, and asked him to accompany us, he made a long face, and shaking his head, said, "King no let go, want fight;" by which we understood that Quagomolo intended to detain us in order that we might assist him in some predatory excursion he was meditating against a neighbouring tribe, we having firearms in good order, while he and his people had among them only a few old muskets, many of which were destitute of locks, and could only be fired by means of matches applied to the touch-holes. On obtaining this information, we agreed that it would not be wise to show any mistrust of the king, but quietly to take our departure, with or without his leave, whenever it might suit us to do so. As we were well treated, we were in no hurry to get away, besides which we had abundance of sport in the neighbourhood, and seldom went out without bringing back eight or ten brace of ducks and other wildfowl. However, at length we thought it time to tell the king that we must be going. We took the opportunity when he was in a good humour, having just quaffed a few bowls of a sort of palm-wine of which he was especially fond. "Stay, my dear friends, stay a few days longer, and you shall go forth with honour, and each of you shall take a wife with you and a hundred attendants." Charley assured his majesty that we must decline the wives, and that our own rifles were the best attendants we desired, with the exception of one or two intelligent men to act as guides. "You shall have your will, you shall have your will," answered the king, "but stay one day longer, just one day." We accordingly, hoping to have no obstruction offered to our departure, agreed to stay, but when the evening arrived the king sent a messenger to say he wished to see us. "What, my friends," he began as we entered his hut--"do you want to go and leave me all forlorn, stay another day, stay another day." Such was the tenor of his address which Aboh translated to us. "Tell him that to-morrow we must go," said Charley. The king smiled benignantly, so Harry declared, although he appeared to me to make a very hideous grimace. The next day, early in the morning, we all four loaded our muskets, and asked Aboh if he was ready to accompany us. "King, he give him leave, him go at once," he answered. No sooner did we quit our hut than we saw all the men of the village, fully armed, collected at the outlets, evidently resolved to stop us by force. Although we might have fought our way through them, we could not have done so without bloodshed. Again we resolved to make a virtue of necessity, and remain until we could find a favourable opportunity of escaping. Several days passed by, and every morning, when we were prepared to set out, we found the village guarded as before. When, however, we left our packs behind us, we were allowed to ramble at perfect freedom. Besides Aboh and Shimbo we found a party always ready to accompany us and act as beaters. Not wishing it to be supposed that we intended to leave that morning, we quietly returned to our hut, and undoing our knapsacks again went out, simply with our rifles in our hands, as if we intended to have a little shooting before breakfast. We had not gone far when we saw a woman near the shore of the lake apparently hunting about and calling out to some one in tones of distress. "Who is she? and what is it all about?" I asked Aboh. "She king's wife. Go bathe, lose piccaninny." We hurried on until we met the poor woman. She then explained that while she was bathing in a sheltered pool she had left her little boy on the bank of the lake to play about and amuse himself, but when she came out of the water she could nowhere find him. Of course it at once occurred to us that a crocodile must have carried him off, but Aboh averred that if such was the case the mother would have heard him cry out. He might have slipped into the water and have been drowned, but that he might possibly be hiding from her, for the sake of playing a trick. "In that case she will soon find him, I hope," I observed. Scarcely had I spoken than I saw a huge crocodile crawling out of the bank not twenty yards from us. The next instant, stooping down its head, it lifted up a little black boy by one of his legs. At the sight the mother shrieked out, "My son, my son!" The fate of the child seemed certain. As the huge creature turned to run, I saw that its neck was exposed. Fortunately, having loaded my rifle with ball, I fired. By a miracle it seemed, the crocodile let the child drop, and after making a faint attempt to recover it, gave a few convulsive struggles, and rolled off the bank perfectly dead, for we could see it lying on its back in shallow water. The poor mother rushed forward and picked up the little boy, who, although fearfully bitten about the leg, was still alive. It had not before uttered a sound, but now it began to cry as it saw the blood streaming from the wounded limb. As far as I could judge, no vital part had been touched, and I told Aboh to say to the mother, that if she would let us doctor it we would do so, as I had hopes of its recovery. Having washed it then and there in cold water, we stopped the blood, bound up the wounds, and gave it to the mother to carry back. Quagomolo was, we found, especially fond of the child. It was six or seven years old, and, being in a healthy condition, by the evening appeared no worse. At the end of three days, as lock-jaw had not set in, and the wounds looked healthy, we assured the king of our belief that his son would in time get well. Quagomolo and his wife both appeared very grateful. "Whatever you shall ask you shall have," he said; "half my kingdom, half of my wives, or half of my children, or half of my people for slaves." "Tell his majesty that we are much obliged to him," answered Charley; "but the only favour we ask is the loan of a couple of his faithful subjects, and permission to proceed on our journey to the northward, where we expect to fall in with some of our countrymen. We are friends to Africa and the Africans, and wish to do the people all the good we can, but that if he keeps us here, our plans will be defeated." The king replied "that he would consider the matter, but that perhaps he knew what was for our good as well as we did ourselves, and that if we wished to benefit the Africans we should remain and exercise our skill on him and his people." This answer was anything but satisfactory. We had accordingly, as before, to shrug our shoulders and submit for the present, not intending, however, much longer to comply with the fancies of the sable monarch. CHAPTER TEN. KING QUAGOMOLO WILL NOT LET US GO--HE SHOWS US HIS PLANTAIN GROVE-- SCHEMES FOR ESCAPE--START ON AN ELEPHANT HUNT--ELEPHANTS CAUGHT BY TRAPS AND NETS--TWO NATIVES CRUSHED TO DEATH--PART OF AN ELEPHANT CUT OFF FOR THE IDOLS--A NATIVE DANCE--THE KING NOT SUCH A FOOL AS WE TAKE HIM FOR-- DETAINED BY RAIN--ENTER AN HOSTILE COUNTRY--ENCAMP AND FEAST--TOBACCO AND PALM-WINE MAKE HIS MAJESTY WAX VALIANT--WE KEEP WATCH--A NIGHT ATTACK--CAPTURED BY KING SANGA TANGA--HOW CAN TUBBS REJOIN US--TRY TO EXPLAIN TO THE KING--WE GO TO GET TOM--KING QUAGOMOLO'S SURPRISE--RETURN WITH TOM AND THE KNAPSACKS--HUGE APES--THE NSHIEGO'S HOUSE--DISTURB DOMESTIC HAPPINESS--SEPARATED FROM MY COMPANIONS--SEE A FIRE--A CHARMING FAMILY--I RETREAT--CLIMB A TREE--AN UNPLEASANT VISITOR--I GO TO SLEEP. Day after day passed by, and still King Quagomolo made some excuse for not allowing us to proceed on our journey. He could well afford to support us, for, savage as were he and his people in most respects, they possessed an unusually large plantation of plantains, on a piece of level ground a short distance from the lake. He took special pride in it, and invited us to pay it a visit. We could not calculate how many trees there were, though there must have been upwards of twenty thousand. The trees stood about five feet apart, and the bunches of plantains which each tree produced weighed from thirty to fifty pounds, those from some of the larger trees much more. There were several varieties even in the same grove. The king informed us that some of these trees bear fruit six or seven months after the sprouts are planted, others, again, take two or three months longer before they bear fruit; and what we may consider the finer species do not begin to bear until about eighteen months after the sprouts are put into the ground, but these last bear by far the larger bunches. This plantain grove was one of the pleasantest sights we had witnessed since we had landed on the shores of Africa. No cereal on the same space of ground, however highly cultivated, could afford the same amount of food. We complimented the king, through Aboh, on the beauty and size of his plantation, and the fruit it contained. "Very good for eat, but no good for trade," was the answer. His majesty had, it was evident, an eye to commerce, and we discovered that the article which he could obtain with the least difficulty, and sell at the highest price, were elephants' tusks. His hunters, we found, frequently went in chase of the monsters for a twofold purpose,--to obtain ivory, and to keep them at a distance from the plantain grove, among which two or three elephants in a few hours might have committed immense damage. He had arranged a grand elephant hunt, not having taken part in one since his illness. He had made up his mind that we should accompany him, believing that our rifles would be the means of securing more ivory than could his own people with their darts and spears. We hoped that if we complied with his wishes, he would be more ready to allow us to take our departure. We accordingly agreed to accompany him. Tom wished to go also, but, although he was able to walk, Charley advised him not to run the risk of again spraining his ankle, feeling sure that great activity would be required from the experience we had already had in getting out of the way of elephants. "But I've been thinking, sir, that we might have a chance of making our escape while we are out hunting. We could easily slip away from the natives, and push on fast in the direction we want to go." "There are two objections to that," answered Charley. "In the first place, the natives can travel through the forest faster than we can, and would soon overtake us; then, as we could not go out hunting with our packs, we should have to leave them behind us; besides which, I would rather leave the king who has treated us so hospitably, in an open fashion, with his goodwill, instead of stealing off like deserters." "I dare say you are right, sir," answered Tom, "but we shall look very foolish if the king, after all, insists on our stopping with him." "Should such be the case, we can but take up our packs and march off, and should any attempt be made to stop us, fight the black fellows." "That's the sort of plain sailing I like," said Tom. We were surprised next morning at the extent of the preparations made for the hunt. We found nearly four hundred men, armed with spears and javelins, assembled in the great square of the village, a large number having come from the neighbouring hamlets. The king soon came out of his palace--for so I may call it, although it was but a rude hut, thickly thatched with palm-leaves. He was dressed far more elaborately than we had hitherto seen him, with a circle of feathers on his head, and a kilt of long grass round his waist secured by a belt, to which hung a number of fetishes or charms. The skin of a leopard hung over his shoulder, to which was suspended a gun, while he carried also a long spear, ornamented with a tuft of hair at the end. The rest of the huntsmen were attired as usual, in nothing but the waist cloth, which is worn by the most savage tribes. The king divided his force into six different parties and desired us to accompany the one commanded by himself. He then gave the order to march. We all set out. Before long we reached the forest, through which we proceeded for several hours, occasionally having to cut our way where the thick vines which hung from all the trees impeded our progress. Towards evening we arrived at the spot where the king had determined to halt. His people immediately set about forming the camp, by collecting wood and putting up shelters, which consisted of lean-to's. Two poles with forked ends were stuck in the ground, on the top of which rested an horizontal pole; against this a number of others were placed, when large palm or other leaves were secured above them, so that the hardest rain was turned off, the roof, of course, being placed on the side against which the wind blew. A large one was built for the king, who invited us to share it with him. It was of the same construction as that of the rest. In front a large fire was kindled. We had no reason to complain of our entertainment, for the king had brought an ample supply of venison as well as plantains, and other vegetables and food. We also slept securely, as we knew that the hunters would keep a look-out during the night for any savage animals which might come prowling round the camp. At early dawn we were on foot, and the king marshalling his forces, sent them off in different directions, so that they might form a large circle and drive in any elephants to a common centre, where we were given to understand some pits had been dug especially for the purpose of entrapping them or any other wild beasts. In that part of the forest there also grew a vast number of strong climbing plants or vines, some extending to the very tops of the tallest trees, twisting and turning among the branches. With these also the natives formed traps for elephants, by weaving them in and out among the trunks in such a way that should an elephant once get in he would be unable to extricate himself before the hunters were upon him. "Now," said his majesty to us, through Aboh, who was kept by his side to act as interpreter, "we will start and show you what real sport is." I don't mean to say that Aboh used those very words, but he said something to that effect. We looked to our rifles and commenced our march, keeping close behind the sable monarch, whose spirits seemed to rise as he found himself once more in the midst of the wilds in which he had achieved renown as a hunter. No one uttered a word for fear of giving warning to any elephants who might be feeding near at hand, and who would break away should they hear our voices. Before long, however, we came upon traces of several animals; young saplings being trampled underfoot, bows torn down, and hanging vines dragged away. The king made a sign to us to proceed even more cautiously than before. We expected every moment to be in sight of a herd of the huge animals. Presently we heard a loud trumpeting, not fifty yards away from us. "Be on the look-out, Dick," cried Charley, "the beasts will be coming this way perhaps. Get up a tree, but don't attempt to run." He remembered how very nearly he had been caught, indeed, Harry and I had not forgotten the fright the beasts had given us. The blacks, however, by their movements did not seem to expect the elephants to come that way, but advanced at a more rapid pace than before in the direction whence the sounds proceeded. "Why, that trumpeting seems to be coming out of the earth," cried Harry. Just then the chief gave a flourish with his spear and rushed on. Presently we saw him dart his weapon with all his force, as it appeared to us, into the ground. On nearing the spot, we saw that he had hurled it into a pit at a huge elephant whose trunk was seen waving above the surface of the ground. The blacks now rushed on, each man holding a javelin in his hand, which he plunged into the back or side of the animal, now screaming with pain. Dart after dart was buried in its flesh. It was in a pit cleverly formed in the side of a hill, towards which it had been apparently making its way, the upper side much higher than it could reach even with its trunk, while the lower was of sufficient depth to prevent it scrambling out again--it was thus completely in the hunters' power. The pit had been covered over with light branches and grass, so that the animal, as it rushed along, had not seen it. As the savages came up they continued hurling their javelins or spears into the poor beast, which was soon covered over almost to resemble a huge porcupine. As the creature's death was certain, we did not think it wise to spend powder and ball on it, indeed, we were likely to offend our fellow-hunters, as they had evidently gained a victory. As we stood near the pit, keeping at a sufficient distance to avoid tumbling in, we watched the poor creature in its hopeless efforts to escape. While it continued on its feet, the savages in succession came rushing up and throwing their darts, each man of them seeming anxious to have a hand in its slaughter. At length, much to our satisfaction, it sunk down on its knees, and soon afterwards rolled over on its side, dead. The blacks immediately jumped down, and began pulling out the darts, to be ready to attack a fresh elephant. We soon had an opportunity of seeing another way in which these monsters are caught. Leaving for the present the carcase of the animal we had taken, we advanced further into the forest; presently one of the scouts who had been sent ahead, came hurrying back, saying that there were three elephants not far off. The blacks now began to steal forward, keeping as much as possible under cover, and sometimes advancing on their hands and knees. We kept, by the king's desire, a short distance behind. Presently we heard a tremendous shout, and we saw two elephants before us. They looked round evidently much frightened, and then dashed forward towards one of the barriers, which had been prepared in the neighbourhood. The natives advanced rapidly, until the elephants were suddenly entrapped in a network of vines. The terrified creatures endeavoured to tear them away with their trunks and feet, but the greater their efforts, the more fatally they surrounded themselves with the tough vines. From every side the natives now appeared, completely surrounding the struggling creatures, which they plied unceasingly with their spears. Some climbed up the neighbouring trees, an example which we followed, for it seemed to us that at any moment the beasts might break away and trample us to death before we could possibly escape. The poor creatures found the darts showered down on them from above, and from every side. The more daring hunters would occasionally rush in close behind them, and dart their spears deep into their flesh. While they were thus engaged, a third elephant, followed by another party of hunters, who had already wounded him, came tearing along. He, too, was caught in the meshes of the network. Several darts were hurled into him, but suddenly turning round, he broke away from them, and trumpeting fiercely, rushed towards a score of natives, who were still at a little distance. They endeavoured to fly on every side, but so unexpected was the attack of the beast, that all had not time to do so. Two unfortunate men were caught; in an instant they were beneath the elephant's feet, who stamped upon them with all his mighty force. In another moment they were crushed, their skulls and all the bones in their bodies being broken, then seizing one in his trunk, the monster hurled it into the air, and rushed forward in an endeavour to make his escape. The whole party, on seeing this, excited by rage, pursued the animal, shouting and shrieking, grinding their teeth, and darting their spears and javelins with all their might. I saw that the elephant had not a chance of escape, indeed, in a short time, mighty as was his strength, he sank down exhausted, with the blood flowing from a hundred wounds, and after a few struggles was dead. On this the natives rushed forward, and began cutting away at the creature with their knives, uttering curses on it for having killed their friends. The noise they had made had scared away all the other elephants--however, they appeared pretty well satisfied with the four they had killed. They now assembled round the last elephant which had fallen, while one of their fetish-men, or priests, approached and cut off a portion which was carefully stowed away in a basket; this was intended, we understood, for an offering to their idols. A dance was now commenced, and was as savage as could well be imagined. They shrieked, they leaped, they whirled their lances above their heads, and twisted and turned their bodies about in the most fantastic manner, making at the same time the most hideous faces, until, exhausted with their exertions, they all squatted down on the ground. Once more at a sign they rose, when they repeated the same dance round the fetish basket. We were in hopes that the king would return home the next day, but the hunters brought word that there were still more elephants a short distance off, which had come to feed on the leaves of certain trees of which they are very fond. We tried to get off attending his majesty, and Charley suggested that if he made no objection we should return to the village, where, having rejoined Tom, and taken our packs, we might endeavour to make our way northward. Our friend, however, suspected the trick we intended to play him. "King say `No good,'" observed Aboh, while his majesty put on a knowing look; and we had to yield to circumstances. Next day it rained, and we were compelled to keep beneath the shelter of our lean-to's, with nothing to do except to listen to the unintelligible jokes of the king, many of them we suspected at our expense, although Aboh was too polite to say so. It cleared up in the evening, but it was then too late to start. In the morning we proceeded, after a plentiful breakfast, to the north-east. We observed that the hunters advanced in a more cautious way than before, and we soon discovered that we were entering the territory of another sable monarch, who was not likely, should he discover it, to be well pleased with our proceeding. Having advanced all the day, we at length encamped, much in the same manner as before. Fires were lighted, and huge pieces of elephant flesh placed to cook before them. A party of carriers had followed us, bringing more delicate provisions, and among them some jugs of palm-wine, with which, after the feast, the king and his more special favourites regaled themselves. We each of us had brought some tobacco, which we thought this a favourable occasion to produce, and great was the delight of the king and his courtiers when they observed it. Pipes were brought forth, which we filled as they were handed to us. All those thus favoured collected round one fire. There are few things an African hunter delights in more than sitting round a blazing fire at night with a pipe in his mouth, and narrating for the hundredth time, perhaps, his various exploits. We regretted not having a sufficient knowledge of the language to make out what was said, but, from the shouts of laughter uttered by our black friends, the yarns were highly amusing to themselves, if not edifying to us. The shades of evening were approaching, a few rays of the setting sun penetrating amid the trees, cast a bright light on the boughs above us. A portion of the hunters were engaged in collecting wood, and bringing in bundles in order to keep up the fires during the night. The king having imbibed a good quantity of palm-wine, waxed valiant, and seizing his spear, advanced in front of the camp, flourishing his weapon, and addressing in stentorian tones some fetish or spirit of the air in the forest. We of course could not make out what he said, nor would Aboh enlighten us. Perhaps he was merely praying for a successful hunt the following day. After the king had thus given vent to his feelings, whatever they were, he returned and seated himself near us at the fire, when he ordered another jug of palm-wine to be brought One of the courtiers suggested that his majesty was taking a little too much, on which the king, who was now certainly beyond the point at which discretion is retained, told him to mind his own business, and looking in his face, swallowed down another cup. He then insisted that we should join him, wishing to show us the highest possible mark of honour; we, to please him, took the bowls in our hands, but the moment his eyes were averted, we handed them to some of his courtiers, who had no objection to drink instead of us. Night had now come on, but still the revels of the king and his courtiers continued. We had retired to a lean-to, hoping to find some rest, for we were all really tired after our day's excursion. "It seems strange that the king, who ought to remember that we are in the country of one of his enemies, should not take more care to guard against a surprise," observed Charley. "I think we ought to keep watch, for very likely these African fellows will forget to do so, and even if they are not attacked by their enemies, a leopard may steal into the camp and carry one or more of them off." Harry and I fully agreed with this; and we drew lots, as we always did on such occasions, to settle the order in which we should keep watch. The first lot fell to me. I was on the point of arousing Harry, who was to keep the second watch, when I was startled by the most fearful shrieks bursting from every side around the camp. The next instant the whole space was filled with warriors, who leaped down into the midst of the sleeping hunters, clubbing some, piercing others with their lances, and throwing cords round the arms of others. There was no necessity to rouse up my companions, for they had started to their feet. "Where shall we go? We are not going to fight for these drunken fellows," cried Harry. "Into the bush then behind us," answered Charley. Harry and I followed him as he sprung round our leafy bower; but we had not gone many yards when we found ourselves in the presence of a dozen or more savages. The light of the fire falling upon us, revealed to them that we were white men, and instead of knocking us over with their clubs, they leaped forward and grasped our arms. We literally had not a moment to defend ourselves--indeed, from the number of our enemies, we could scarcely have hoped to have fought our way through them. If we had done so without food, and with only a limited supply of ammunition, we could not have made our way far through the country. What became of the king and his courtiers, whether they escaped or were knocked on the head, we could not tell. We were at once unceremoniously hurried off by our captors, who seemed to consider us rich prizes. As we were led off we witnessed a horrible scene. One of our unfortunate companions had been struck down, but still breathed; when, a number of the savages rushing towards him, some seized his arms and legs, and others, drawing their long knives, plunged them in his body, taking care apparently to avoid wounding any vital part. Several women who appeared on the scene were encouraging the men in their atrocious proceedings. The cries of the poor wretch reached our ears for some time afterwards, till, becoming fainter and fainter, they altogether ceased, and we were thankful to believe that his sufferings were over. They did not, however, deprive us of our rifles, nor were we in any way ill-treated, except that we were compelled to hurry on at a much faster rate than we liked. After travelling for several miles we saw lights ahead, and found that we were approaching the camp of the people who had captured us. Our guards uttered loud shouts, and a number of people came forth from a collection of leafy huts, which, it was evident from their slight structure, were mere temporary erections. The principal person of the crowd was a savage-looking fellow, about as ugly as King Quagomolo, and dressed much in the same fashion. His majesty, although so ugly, did not appear to have any evil intentions regarding us, but was evidently satisfied at having got us into his power. He invited us to join him at his camp-fire, and at once ordered some of his slaves to bring us food, of which we thought it prudent to partake, although we were not in reality very hungry. We had not been seated long before parties arrived, carrying the tusks of the elephants we had killed; and others followed, dragging along about thirty prisoners, among whom we recognised our friend Aboh. As soon as he saw us he shouted out to the king, who at once ordered him to be released, when he came up to us. "Me say talkee for you," he observed, by which we understood that he had informed the king that he was our interpreter. He then had a long palaver with his majesty, who seemed well satisfied with what he heard. The intentions of the king were, we found out from what Aboh said, to make us useful to fight his battles, to assist him in governing the country, and to perform any service which he considered white men capable of doing better than his own subjects. He, by some means or other, had been informed of our being in the country, and had made the attack on Quagomolo's camp, expressly for the purpose of getting possession of us. "What has become of your king and the rest of your people?" we asked of Aboh. "Him no killee, me tinke run 'way," he answered. "Things are not so bad as they might have been, so we ought to be thankful," observed Charley; "but still I am afraid that we are as little likely as before to be allowed to continue our journey." Our chief anxiety was about Tom Tubbs. We feared that King Quagomolo was not likely to set him at liberty, nor was it probable that he would deliver up our knapsacks, even should we send for them, for though he had hitherto behaved honestly towards us, we could scarcely expect that he would withstand the temptation of appropriating their contents under the uncertainty of our fate. Our first object then was to get Tom to rejoin us, and by some means or other to regain our property. Our knapsacks contained powder and shot, beads and trinkets, with which to pay our way, an extra pair of boots, and numerous other articles of the greatest value to us. We were already more than three days' journey from King Quagomolo's village, and so much on our way to the north. Before lying down to sleep, we consulted Aboh on the subject. "Berry bad, berry bad," he answered, shaking his head, which he always did when he found a knotty point difficult to unravel. "Me say de King Sanga Tanga--me go get odder white man and him goods. Suppose let me go, what say King Quagomolo? when him come, cut off him head me tinkee." "We don't want you to run that risk, Aboh," said Charley, "but still we wish you to find some other way." "Me tinkee, me tinkee, now go sleep," answered Aboh, by which we understood that he would consider the matter and let us know the result of his cogitations in the morning. We accordingly, as he advised, wrapt ourselves in our cloaks which we had on when we were captured, and, taking our positions as near the fire as we could, tried to sleep. I observed that our captors kept a far more watchful look-out than had our former friends--indeed, from the little I had seen of them, they appeared to me to be a far more sagacious and keen-witted set than those we had left. They had good reason also to be on the watch, for they might at any moment be attacked by the followers of King Quagomolo, the larger number of whom had escaped, and who would very likely rally and attempt to recover their friends and us, and revenge themselves for the sudden and unprovoked assault made on their camp. Charley expressed a hope that such might be the case, and that we should then regain out liberty. "I should be sorry for the bloodshed which would ensue, for our captors would probably fight desperately to detain us, and many on both sides would be killed," said Harry, who was always more anxious to obtain an object by peaceable means than by force. "There is no use talking about the matter," said Charley, "let us go to sleep and be prepared for whatever may occur. I'll sleep with one eye open, and be ready to rouse you up should there be a chance of our escaping, only take care that the black fellows do not steal our rifles, which perhaps they may attempt to do while we sleep, although they evidently look upon them with awe, or they would have taken them from us before." Following Charley's advice, we placed our guns by our sides, between us, with our hands upon them, so that we should be awakened should any one try to draw them away. I at length fell asleep, but I was continually fancying that something was going to occur; the camp, however, remained perfectly quiet, the only sounds heard within it being the snoring of the sleepers, and occasionally the shouts of the sentries as they called to each other. Next morning at daybreak the whole camp was roused up by King Sanga Tanga, and the cooks set to work to dress the plantains which they had brought with them, and the elephant-meat which they had captured. A liberal portion was brought to us in a basket, but as the meat was already tainted, we preferred breakfasting on the plantains sprinkled with red pepper. We observed a dozen men or more with drawn swords standing near us as a guard to prevent our escape, though we were in no way molested. We looked about for Aboh, but he was nowhere to be seen, and without his aid we could not hope to make the king understand our wishes. I began to be afraid that he must have been removed from us, and carried away with the men of his village into slavery, or perhaps put to death. "I don't think there's a chance of their killing him or any of the prisoners, when they can, by sending them down to the coast, obtain a good price for them," observed Charley. "If the king wants to make use of us, he will not wish to deprive us of our interpreter." The king now shouted out to his followers, and they began to make preparations for the march, still Aboh did not appear. The farther off we got from King Quagomolo's village, the less chance we should have, we thought, of recovering our property and getting Tom to rejoin us. Charley, therefore, eagerly addressed the king, who passed near where we were sitting, and tried to make him understand by signs what we wanted. He scratched his head, but evidently did not understand either our signs or words. At last he spoke to one of his attendants, who hurried off and soon returned with Aboh, dragging him along by a rope fastened round his wrists. Poor Aboh looked very downcast. "What's the matter?" asked Charley. "Me try run 'way, and king bind him hands with odder prisoners." "I'm sorry to hear that," said Charley, "it would have been better not to have attempted it. Now, we want you to ask the king to let us go back and get our knapsacks, and our companion and we will faithfully return to him as soon as we have done so." "Me tinkee king no trust him," answered Aboh. "What! not trust an officer in the navy, and two other English gentlemen," exclaimed Charley indignantly. "Tell him then, that one of us will remain with him, while the other two, with a sufficient guard, go back, and say that we will return as soon as possible." "But 'spose King Quagomolo no let go," suggested Aboh. "Then let King Sanga Tanga say, that if we are detained, he will march a large army to liberate us." Aboh fully understood our wishes. He forthwith held a long palaver with the king. The result was more satisfactory even than we had expected. He consented to send back Charley and me with twenty men as a guard, keeping Harry as a hostage, allowing Aboh to accompany us, under the promise, however, of returning. Thanking the king for agreeing to our proposal we begged that we might set out immediately. "Good-bye," said Harry, "I wish that we could have all gone together, but I know you will come back for me, and I do not see how it otherwise could have been arranged." We forthwith commenced our march. The party was under the command of Prince Ombay, the king's son, a good-natured, merry fellow, with whom Aboh seemed on very good terms. Charley and I were by this time well immured to fatigue, and our companions lightly clad were able to perform long distances each day. We met with no very interesting adventures, although I shot a deer, and Charley was fortunate enough to kill a buffalo which afforded a supply of meat to our companions, and raised us greatly in their estimation. At length we reached the neighbourhood of King Quagomolo's village, when Prince Ombay proposed encamping, and allowing Charley and me with Aboh to go forward and complete our negotiations with King Quagomolo. We had done our best to impress upon Aboh that he must not attempt any act of treachery, and that everything must be carried on in a peaceable manner: to this he agreed, and we hoped that we could trust him. When we entered the village the people gazed at us in astonishment. Aboh did not think fit to enlighten them as to the cause of our return. We went straight to the residence of the king. "There he is," exclaimed Charley, as we approached the house, and we found him sleeping in the shade of the rude veranda in front of it. As we were anxious to ascertain how it fared with Tom, leaving the king to finish his nap, we hurried off to our own house. Tom saw us and hastened out to greet us. "I had given you up for lost, gentlemen, it does my heart good to see you. What has become of Mr Harry?" he asked. We told him in a few words the object of our visit. "I think the chances are the king will listen to you," he answered; "he came back very much out of spirits at being taken by surprise, and at the loss of so many of his people. I don't think he has any stomach for a war with the other black king." This was satisfactory. Accompanied by Tom we went back to Quagomolo's house. His majesty was rubbing his eyes and stretching himself after his nap. He looked greatly astonished at seeing us stand before him. "Now tell him what we want," said Charley to Aboh; "just hint that if he doesn't agree to King Sanga Tanga's demands he may expect to have his plantain groves cut down, and his village burned, and himself and his people carried off and sold to the slave traders." "Berry good reason for not saying No," observed Aboh. He forthwith addressed the king in due form. His majesty scratched his head and sides and all parts of his body with much vehemence--a sign of great agitation within, if not irritation without, and replied in a long speech. Aboh briefly translated it. "Him no want fight, him say go when you like, but him ask before you away." "Tell the king we are very much obliged to him for so readily yielding to our request, and we will certainly give him a present, and if we get safe home we will send him another, as our means at present are limited." Whether Aboh understood this or not, I am not sure, but whatever he said made the king's countenance brighten up. As we wished to rejoin Prince Ombay as soon as possible, and put him out of suspense, we begged Tom to get ready to march at once. Returning to our house, we took out four necklaces of beads, one as a present from each of us, and also some knives and trinkets which we presented to his majesty, telling Aboh to thank him again for the kind way in which he had treated us, though he had as a mark of his favour detained us longer than we desired. We then, shouldering our packs, and taking our rifles in our hands, bade the king good-bye, and saluting the people as we passed through the streets of the village, hastened to the spot where we had left Prince Ombay and his party. No one had discovered them, and as he thought it prudent not to remain longer than necessary in the neighbourhood, we immediately commenced our march to the north-east. Our success had been far greater than we expected. Our bold bearing and the authoritative tone we had used, had, no doubt, considerable influence in inducing the black king to yield to our demands. Prince Ombay was in high spirits at seeing us, and gave a hearty welcome to Tom. He proposed immediately to set out for his father's town. "We shall now conquer all our enemies; we shall succeed in all we undertake; with four good guns what enemy can stand against us? The wild beasts in the forest must succumb, we shall have game in plenty, and food. What feasts we shall enjoy, what bowls of palm-wine." It was very evident from this that although the prince wished to treat us kindly, he fully intended to keep us well employed in his father's service. By this time we had picked up a good many words of the language of the people, and Aboh had also greatly improved in English, so that we were much better able to understand what was said. Prince Ombay was constantly describing to us the curious creatures of the country, and among others he mentioned some huge apes which he said were like wild men, and built houses for themselves in the trees, and were almost as big as men. When I expressed doubt on the subject, Ombay said he would show us the houses, and the apes also. He called the animal "Nshiego." They did not live in tribes, but generally in pairs, and that the male built a house for himself, and the female for herself, close on a neighbouring tree. Next day as we were travelling along, through a thick part of the forest, we came upon some shrubs bearing a pretty sort of wild berry. Prince Ombay at once said we should find some Nshiegoes not far off. By going a short distance from the travelling path, he pointed out what looked like a huge umbrella fixed on a large bough, about twenty feet from the ground, and close to it another of similar character, both the trees being so far removed from each other that the boughs did not touch. "There are the houses," said the Prince. "But the Nshiegoes have either gone out hunting, or hearing us coming have hidden themselves, you see what wise fellows they are. No leopard or other savage beast can get up to them, nor could a serpent climb the trunk of that tree, as it is too large to be encircled by its body, while no boughs can fall from any neighbouring tree on their heads." Charley, who was very anxious to examine the roof, managed to throw some stout vines over the bough, above which it was placed, by this means we climbed up. No human beings could have made the roof more neatly. It was constructed of thick leafy branches, secured together by vines, so formed that it was capable of completely throwing off the rain. Ombay told us that the male is the actual builder, while the female gathers the boughs and vines, and brings them to him; and that he builds her nest as well as his own. As we were soon after this to pitch our camp, Ombay promised to show us some of these apes at home. We gladly accepted his offer. As soon as we had pitched our camp and had had supper, Charley and I with Aboh accompanied Ombay and two of his best hunters, set off, and after going a short distance in the woods, they told us if we would remain quiet, we should certainly see a couple of Nshiegoes under their nests in two trees close at hand. We kept perfectly quiet, scarcely daring to breathe for nearly an hour, it seemed much longer, when out of the forest came a creature which in the gloom looked almost as big as a man; presently it began to cry out "hew, hew," when another creature appeared of the same description. The first of these climbed up into one of the trees, where he sat with an arm clasped round the stem, while his feet rested on the lower branch, and his head reached quite up into the dome of the roof, so that it served as a night cap at the same time. The other Nshiego followed his example, and got into her abode, when, after exchanging a few cries, which seemed as if they were wishing good-night to each other, they both went to sleep. It seemed barbarous to interrupt so much domestic felicity, but the natives would have thought very little of us if we had not killed the Nshiegoes. Accordingly Charley taking one, and I the other, we both fired, and both the animals fell at the same time, and the blacks taking them up, carried them back to the camp, where, by the light of the fire, we had an opportunity of examining them. We found them just about four feet high, with black skins. The back and shoulders had black hair two or three inches long, while the rest of the body was covered with short, thin, bluish hair, the top of the head being completely bald, the nose was flat, and ears remarkably large; the chin was somewhat round, some thin short hairs growing on it. As soon as we had done examining the creatures, our black escort cut them up, although, I must have been very hard pressed before I would have eaten any of the flesh. "You think those big apes," observed Ombay, as we were marching along. "If we keep a look-out, we may see some much larger. I must warn you if you do see them to keep out of their way, for they can kill a man in a moment." As our escort were in no hurry, having once reached their own country, we made but short journeys each day. Having hurried over our supper, we set out as we had done the previous evening. Charley advised that we should try and kill as much game as possible, to please our black companions, as well as to supply ourselves with food. I had kept on the extreme right of the party, Charley on the left, and Tom in the centre, so that we could communicate with each other. We had gone a mile or so from the camp, when I caught sight of a beautiful little deer bounding away up a glade. I followed without calling to my companions, expecting almost immediately to come up with it. It went trotting on, and feeding, and then bounding away in a playful manner, just keeping beyond the range of my gun. Now I lost sight of it, but soon again saw it before me. Thus I was led on further than I should have wished. How many turns I had made, I could not tell but I fancied that I had gone in a straight line. After all, just as I was about to fire, the deer took flight, either at me, or something else, and bounded away. Much disappointed, I turned to rejoin my companions. Before long, however, I made the pleasing discovery that I had lost myself. I listened, expecting to hear their shouts, but no sound reached my ears. I had gone on, some way thinking that it was in the direction where I was most likely to find my friends, when I heard voices in the distance coming through the forest I at once endeavoured to make my way towards the spot from whence they appeared to proceed. As I advanced they sounded more strange. I kept on cautiously. They might be savages of a different tribe, for Ombay had told me of many strange people inhabiting that region. The shades of evening were already coming on. I caught the glimmer of a fire in an open glade before me, and what was my surprise on pushing aside the boughs, to see two enormous apes seated on the ground, and a couple of young ones near them. One seated in a sort of arbour, formed by the thick foliage above the roots of the tree, appeared to be a patriarch, while just outside sat his wife caressing the youngest one, while in the front of her lay the other, warming himself before the fire. I could see the two adults were enormous creatures, as large--they appeared to me--as any ordinary human being, with huge chests and long arms. Had there been but one alone I should have felt very nervous lest he should attack me, but what would be my fate were both the creatures, aided by their infant progeny, to set upon me. I feared almost to breathe lest I should be discovered. Should I tread on a rotten branch, or brush by a bough too roughly, the noise might attract them, and they might come in chase of me. Before moving I examined my gun to see that it was ready for instant use. My hope was that I might kill one of the terrible creatures and so frighten the others and obtain time to reload. Even the young ones were no contemptible opponents, should they fly at my legs or seize me by the arms while I was engaged with their parents. This, however, they were not likely to do unless endowed with more sagacity than the ape tribe are generally supposed to possess. Still if their wisdom was in proportion to their size, they might attack me in a way which would give me very little chance of escaping in spite of my gun. I, however, felt much more confidence with that in my hand than I should have done without it. Never did thief creep away more carefully out of a house than did I from the bower of those terrific apes. I had not believed that such enormous creatures existed. Night was rapidly coming on, for what I could tell there might be others in the neighbourhood. To spend a night by myself in those wilds was anything but pleasant to contemplate. As soon as I could venture to move fast, without the risk of being heard by the huge apes, I retreated rapidly. I was not aware at the time that I had fallen in with a family of the largest existing specimens of the ape tribe since known as the terrible gorilla, although at that time I was ignorant of its name. I was only too soon to become in a terrible way better acquainted with the creature. As I have described I was endeavouring to get as far off as possible from the fearful monsters, when the sun having set, it became almost immediately dark. The thick foliage overhead hid the stars from my sight so that I could not tell in what direction I was going, whether to the north or south, and although I occasionally got a glimpse of one amid the boughs, it could not thus seen serve as a guide to me. I pictured to myself the danger of thus wandering through the forest by myself, for although I might grope my way amid the trees, yet I might be pursued by a leopard or lion, or I might tread on some venomous snake or get into the presence unexpectedly of a herd of elephants. For some time I was afraid of shouting or firing my rifle, lest I might attract the attention of those monster apes. At length, thinking I had got sufficiently far off not to bring them down upon me, and that I might after all be in the neighbourhood of my friends, I began to exercise my lungs. After I had shouted several times, I fancied that I heard an answer, but still could not be certain that the cries which reached my ears were not uttered by the monster apes or some other creatures. Then I fired off my gun. Forthwith there came a loud chattering and shrieking from out of the forest, uttered by troops of monkeys and flights of parrots. I was afraid if I fired often I might exhaust my stock of powder, which I should require for my defence if attacked either by huge apes or four-footed monsters. Finding no answer to any of my signals, I judged that I had got a long way off from my friends; I therefore thought it prudent at once to climb a tree, hoping not to find it occupied by any arboreous ape or other creature. I therefore threw a vine over one of the lower boughs, by which means I was able to climb onto the branch. I then drew up the vine, so that I might be tolerably secure. There was still sufficient light from the sky to enable me to find my way to a part of the tree where several boughs branched off; here I could lie down with my gun by my side, without any fear of falling to the ground. Before going to sleep, however, I thought it would be as well to give another shout, hoping that, perhaps, from my lofty position, my voice would reach my friends. I listened for an answer. Silence reigned through the forest, broken now and then by a roar so terrific, so superhuman, that I involuntarily trembled. It was not like that of a wild beast, nor of that proceeding from any human throat. It seemed to come from a spot at no great distance off. What if the creature should discover me and be able to climb the tree in which I had taken shelter! What hope would there be for me then? I regretted having shouted; it would have been more prudent had I kept silence. I could only pray that the creature might not find me out, if creature it was. I did not believe that evil spirits in bodily form walked the earth, or I might have supposed that the voice I heard was that of one, so awe-inspiring was it. I now peered down from among the boughs towards the ground near the trunk of the tree, dreading every instant to see the creature approach. At length I saw a dark form moving along, but it went on all fours. Could it be the creature that had uttered the sound? Presently it approached a small tree and then reared itself, and I saw what looked like a man of gigantic form, with a huge head, and prodigiously long arms, holding on to the tree. He seemed to look about him as if to examine the surrounding trees; should he discover me, he evidently could with ease climb the tree on which I sat. I was afraid of moving, and yet I felt convinced that he might, with his sharp eyes, discover me looking through the boughs at him. I fortunately had the muzzle of my gun turned towards him, and could at any moment bring the butt to my shoulder. I could not expect to get a better mark than he now presented to me, but then, so human looked the creature, seen through the gloom of night, that I asked myself whether I was justified in shooting him. While these thoughts were passing through my mind, he let go the stem of the tree, and once more sank down, moving forward as before on his hands and feet. At first I thought he was coming up my tree. To my relief he turned aside, apparently satisfied that the being which had uttered the, to him, strange sounds, was not concealed among its branches. I breathed more freely. I was thankful that I had not fired, for I might only have wounded the creature, and he would then, inspired by rage, have climbed the tree to attack me. I waited, watching for an hour or more; at length, finding sleep overcoming me, I replaced my gun by my side, and stretched myself almost at my length, for which there was ample room. My eyes closed, possibly I might have been surprised by apes, snakes, or any other tree-climbing creatures without having time to rouse myself sufficiently to offer the slightest resistance, so sound was my sleep; and yet it was not untroubled, for all night long that fearful cry occasionally rang in my ears, and I heard other shrieks and noises. Whether they were really uttered by the denizen of the forest, or created by my imagination, is more than I can possibly say. CHAPTER ELEVEN. I TRAVEL NORTH-EAST--BREAKFAST--A STRANGE SUPPER COMPANION--ANOTHER DAY'S JOURNEY--MEET SOME GIRLS--THE PRINCESS CARRIED OFF BY AN APE--I SHOOT HIM--TRIUMPHANT PROCESSION TO THE VILLAGE--THE MAIDEN'S SONG ALARMS ME--AM THANKED BY THE KING--THE KING'S WEAVERS--MY FRIENDS RETURN--WE ARE MOST HANDSOMELY TREATED--THE PRINCESS AND HER GRANDFATHER--MY ALARM ONLY TOO WELL FOUNDED--CHARLEY COMES TO THE RESCUE--DISCUSS OUR PROSPECTS. A bright light streamed into my eyes--it was the sun, just rising, sending his rays darting through the boughs. I felt very unwilling to get up, and when I began to move I discovered that my limbs were somewhat stiff from the hardness of my couch. At length I rose, and, kneeling down, thanked Heaven for the protection which had been afforded me. I now began to feel the sensations of hunger. I hoped, however, that I might be able to find something with which to satisfy my appetite, and enable me to continue my search for my friends. It was important to lose no time; I accordingly descended, letting myself down by the vine. I could now, guided by the sun, steer a tolerably straight course. I judged that if I proceeded to the north-east I should in time, though I might miss my travelling companions, at all events reach King Sanga Tanga's village. I looked about me, half expecting to see the monster who had passed by in the evening, walk out from behind some thick bushes which grew around. I stood close to the very tree by which I had seen the creature supporting itself, and although I hoped that it had gone on to a distance, I felt a disinclination to camp at that spot. I had, fortunately, some matches and a tinder-box in my pocket, so that I could light a fire as soon as I had something to cook at it. I had not gone far when a chorus of loud screams announced the approach of a flock of grey parrots, which were issuing forth from their resting-places in search of berries and nuts. Crouching down behind a bush, I allowed them to come so close to me that I shot a couple, and knocked down a third with the barrel of my gun before it had time to fly off. Slinging them over my shoulder, I trudged on until I came to the bank of a small stream. Going along it I found an open spot, in the centre of which I could kindle a fire without the risk of setting light to the neighbouring trees. I quickly had two of my parrots plucked, and by means of the usual wooden spit, soon had them roasting. Before sitting down, I looked carefully around to ascertain that no monster ape was near, likely to invite himself to the repast. I must own it, I was seized with a sort of horror of the monster apes, and as I went along I could not help every now and then looking over my shoulder, expecting to see one following. I dreaded the thought of an encounter with one of the creatures far more than I did with a leopard or lion. I hurried over my breakfast, and having taken a good draught from the bright stream, filled up my water bottle, and stowed a portion of the cooked parrot in my wallet that I might not be delayed by having to cook a mid-day meal, I pushed on. The forest in many places was more open than I expected to find it, and I made good progress. I did not wish to expend my ammunition by firing signals, but I occasionally shouted at the top of my voice, hoping that my friends would hear me. I was disappointed, however, and another evening found me still in the forest. I was certain, by the course of the sun, which I had carefully noted, that I had kept a tolerably correct course, and I calculated that by the end of a couple of days at most, I should reach King Sanga Tanga's town. My chief regret was, that my non-appearance would cause anxiety, and that Charley and Harry would be delayed in searching for me--still that could not be helped. Had I gone in any other direction, I might naturally have lost my way, whereas I now felt sure that they must ultimately come up with me. I have not described the various animals I met with. Now and then a buffalo passed at a distance, and several species of antelopes. Once I saw a leopard stealing by, but he did not see me, having some other game in view. There were also hyenas, but I had no reason to be afraid of them, as they seldom attack a human being unless they find them asleep. There were numerous small monkeys, as well as big apes of several species. The most curious monkey was a small frolicsome little animal which, whenever seen, indicated that water was not far off, as they have an especial fondness for water. They are great friends with a pretty bird, which is constantly found in their company. They are often seen playing together, whether it is that they are attracted by the same object, or really have a mutual affection, I am unable positively to determine. The country teeming with animal life, and producing numerous berries as well as large fruits, I had no fear of suffering from hunger, provided my stock of ammunition should hold out. Without it, in the midst of abundance, I might have starved. Although I determined, as on the previous night, to sleep up a tree; I lit a big fire, at which I could cook my supper, on the ground near at hand. While the birds were roasting, I threw a vine over the bough, by climbing up which I could gain a place of safety. The birds I had shot being cooked, I was discussing my supper, washing it down with draughts from my water battle, when looking up, I saw the shadow of a creature moving some fifty yards off; a second glance convinced me that it was a leopard. The fire kept him at bay, but he stood gazing at me, and probably scenting the odour of the roasted birds from afar. I saw him creep nearer and nearer. I might have shot him, but might have missed, so considering discretion the better part of valour, I caught hold of one of the birds by the leg, and holding it in my mouth, I swarmed up to the bough, where I was in perfect safety. I had before this fixed on a spot where I could rest for the night, and at once made my way to it, intending to start at daybreak the next morning. However, I could not resist the temptation of watching the leopard. He walked round and round my fire, but as long as it blazed up was afraid of approaching. As, however, the flames sank down, and only the bright embers remained, he made a dash at the portion of the birds I had left behind, and gobbled them up in a moment. I then threw him the bones of the one which I had been gnawing. He looked up very much surprised, wondering where it came from. I was greatly inclined to shoot him, but there was no object in doing so, as I should very likely only have wounded him, and sent him off to die miserably. At last, finding there was nothing more to be got, and possibly forgetting all about me, the leopard took his departure. I slept as soundly up the tree as I did the previous night, and coming down in the morning, immediately pushed forward in the direction I had before been travelling. I was able to make good some eight or ten miles before the air had become heated with the sun. Another day passed so like the former, that I could scarcely distinguish one from the other. Another evening was coming on. I fully expected by this time to have reached my destination, but I had met with no plantations, or any other sign to show that I was approaching an inhabited spot, I therefore supposed that I must be still some way off. I was travelling along when I heard the sound of voices--they were those of females, several with baskets on their heads, while others were busily employed in plucking wild fruits, which grew in abundance in an open glade in the forest. Some thick bushes sheltered me from view. I was thankful to see them, as I hoped that they belonged to the village of Sanga Tanga, and that my long solitary journey was now nearly over. Still I thought that should I appear among them suddenly I might alarm them--I was, therefore, determined to remain concealed, and to follow them when they should return homeward, being sure that they would lead me, if not to the village of which I was in search, to another where I might hope to be well received. The girls were all scattered about, plucking the fruit from the bushes, when I heard a fearful scream, and looking in the direction from whence it came, I saw one of those dreadful monsters which had for days haunted my imagination, approaching two of the girls. The creature was too far off to allow me to fire with a certainty of killing him, and should I merely wound him, I should probably only make him more savage; I therefore crept forward as rapidly as I could, hoping to get close enough to shoot him before he could seize either of the girls. One, overcome by terror, seemed scarcely able to fly, or make an effort to escape, the others fled shrieking away. Before I could get sufficiently close to make sure of my aim, the hideous monster seized the hapless girl round the waist with one of his long arms, and immediately began to make his way towards a neighbouring tree. I dashed forward. Should he once get to my height up the branches, nothing could save the girl, for even should I shoot him she might be killed by the fall. I knew that by firing I ran the risk of shooting her, but that risk must be run, her death was certain should he escape with her. He had reached the first branch of a tree, scarcely more than twelve feet from the ground, when I brought my rifle to bear on him, I fired, aiming at his breast. As the bullet struck him he uttered a terrific roar; but at the same moment opening his left arm, which had encircled the girl, he let her fall, fortunately on a bed of leaves. She was senseless. I was afraid that the monster would fall upon her, and if so in his struggles he might tear her with his teeth and claws, but he held fast to the bough, roaring loudly and striking his breast. Under other circumstances I think that I should have put a considerable distance between myself and the beast, but the life of a fellow-creature was at stake. Summoning all the coolness I could command, I reloaded and then shouted to the other girls to come back and take their companion away. They all seemed to dread approaching the monster. I was afraid that, should I go under the bough, he might spring on me, and that the only safe mode of proceeding was to keep him covered by my rifle, so that, should he make any movement, I might again shoot. Presently I saw him swaying backwards and forwards as if his strength was leaving him; still he growled as fiercely as before. I moved slightly, so as to get a better aim at him. He thought, perhaps, that I was about to fly, for he stepped onto another bough. Now was my opportunity; I fired, and down he came with a crash, breaking away several rotten boughs, until he reached a quantity of dead wood, where he struggled in vain to rise. Having reloaded, I dashed forward, and, lifting the girl in my arms, bore her towards a party of her friends, who had stopped, gazing horror-stricken at what was taking place. They received her with loud cries of grief, supposing her to be dead. She, in a short time, began to breathe, and, opening her eyes, gazed round with a scared and terrified look, then she clung to her companion, shrieking out, as she caught sight of me standing by--"Save me, save me!" Apparently she for a moment supposed that I was the being who had carried her off. Her friends, however, were apparently doing their best to reassure her; and at length, pointing to me, they made her understand that I was the person who had saved her from the grasp of the monster ape, which they pointed out lying dead beneath the tree. They then all came round me, and I had no doubt from the signs they made and their looks, that they were expressing their gratitude for the service I had rendered them in saving the young girl. I tried in return to make them understand how glad I was that I had done so. I was now able more particularly to remark the appearance of the damsel. She was young, and for a negress remarkably pretty. As she recovered she took my hand and placed it, on her head as a sign, I supposed, that she was much obliged to me for saving her. I tried to make out whether the girls belonged to King Sanga Tanga's village. When I mentioned his name they all clapped their hands and pointed to the girl whom they called Iguma. In consequence of this action I began to hope that she was in some way related to him, perhaps his daughter, in which case my friends and I were likely to be better treated than we could otherwise have expected. As far as I could judge from the signs the girls made, I understood that the village was not far off. Having picked up the baskets and refilled them with the fruit which had been strewn on the ground, they prepared to return. Four of them carried Iguma, who placed her arms round the necks of two, while the others supported her legs. Before setting off I was anxious to secure the skin of the huge ape--if ape it was, for it looked to me, as it lay stretched on the ground, more like some savage human being of the forest. I pointed it out to the girls, who, I believe, fancied that the creature had made its escape into the wood. As soon as they saw it and knew from the signs I made that it was dead, they began to advance cautiously in the direction where it lay. I went first, with my knife drawn ready to flay it. They now crept forward, two or three of the bolder ones in front of the rest, when they would stop and gaze at the creature, talking to each other, even now apparently having some doubt whether it was dead or not. Then, as I got nearer to it and at last gave it a kick or two with my foot, they came crowding around with more confidence, crying out loudly and chattering away to each other. I was about to begin to flay it when it struck me that they would perhaps be unwilling to carry the skin, and I certainly had no wish to bear it on my own shoulders all the way to the village, even although the distance might not be great. I tried to make them understand that if they would send some young men I should be very much obliged. They, after a little time, took in my meaning, and two of them, handing their baskets to their companions, set off running. As I was not particularly anxious to skin the creature myself, remembering that if I did so I should not be in a very fit state to be presented to the king and the inhabitants of the village, I accepted the invitation of the girls to accompany them at once. Leaving the dead ape to any fate which might befall it, I set off with my new friends, who now surrounding me, formed themselves into a sort of triumphal procession. First went Iguma and her supporters, then followed four of my attendants, then I came with two on either hand, the rest bringing up the rear, all shouting and singing impromptu verses in praise of me, for I could tell by certain words that such was the case. The words were to this effect-- "The king's daughter with her maidens went out to pick berries, then came a huge ape, and they fled with fright. The monster seized the maiden, the pride of her father's heart, and bore her off to a cruel death. Already he had reached a tree, the cries of her companions availed her not. In another moment she would have been beyond our reach, when a pale-faced stranger appeared with a wonderful thunder maker in his hand. He made thunder, and the ape, huge as it was, fell dead at his feet. The beautiful Iguma was saved. He who had saved her has won our hearts, we will do him honour, we will do all he asks of us. The king will rejoice, he will weep with joy over his child, and he will give her to the young stranger as a reward. He will become our prince and live with us, and lead our young men to battle. We will serve him gladly." As the meaning of these last expressions dawned upon me, I began to feel somewhat uncomfortable. I was very happy to have saved the young lady, but had no wish whatever to become the husband of a black beauty, however charming she might be in the eyes of her countrymen. I was puzzled to think how I might get out of the difficulty without offending her or her father, or her female companions, who had so unreservedly bestowed her on me without being asked. I could only hope that the maidens were indulging in poetical licence, and that they did not really mean that I should marry their mistress. At all events, I determined to put the best face on the matter I could, hoping that they might not insist on the event coming off immediately. At last I caught sight of some magnificent palm trees, rising in the midst of a number of houses. In a short time we entered a broad street which led into the square, and in the middle were the palm trees I had just before observed. It struck me as an exceedingly picturesque place, and very neat. On each side of the square two other streets branched off. Every house had a veranda in front of it, and an open space between it and the road. I should have said as we approached we met a party of young men running at full speed, who, after exchanging a few words with the girls, hastened on in the direction whence we had come. On entering the town we saw a number of persons approaching, several playing on tom-toms and various musical instruments, and others shouting and singing. In their midst talked their king in full costume, which I suspect he had put on in a hurry, for his head dress was rather awry. Coming forward, he embraced his daughter, tears falling from his eyes as a mark of his paternal affection; then he came up to me, and saluted me in the same fashion, a ceremony I would gladly have avoided. He then poured out expressions which I took to signify how deeply grateful he was to me for saving his daughter from the huge ape. He then asked me what had become of my companions, and how it was that I was there all alone. I may have been wrong, but this, I believe, was what he said to me. I tried to explain by signs rather than words, how I had been separated from them while out hunting, that I had looked for them in vain, and then made my way towards his village, where I fortunately arrived in time to do the happy deed which I trusted would guild my humble name in the eyes of his majesty and his subjects. I do not know whether the king understood what I said, but as I put my hand to my heart and looked very much pleased, I was sure that he understood, at all events, that I wished to say something civil. From what I heard the girls say, I confess that I was somewhat afraid that his majesty would propose bestowing his daughter on me at once, and was greatly relieved when I found he had not in any way alluded to the subject. Having seen her carried into one of the huts by her attendants, the king took my hand and led me towards another hut on the opposite side of the square. It was a very well-constructed building, of fair size and height and look, remarkably neat and clean. Behind it was a plantain grove; a garden with lime and other trees, and shrubs of beautiful foliage, with an enclosure in which were a number of goats and fowls. Many of the inhabitants were clothed in robes of bongo, a species of cloth made from the delicate cuticle of palm leaflets, which are stripped off and ornamented with feathers. These are woven very neatly, many of them are striped, and some made even with check pattern. The pieces of cloth are then stitched together in a regular way with needles, also manufactured by the natives. I saw in the town a number of men sitting at looms in the middle of a hut with a wood fire burning near them. The weavers were smoking their long pipes, the bowls of which rested on the ground, and shouting to each other as they worked merrily away. Some of the king's attendants brought in cushions and mats, which they placed on the floor. He then, begging me to be seated, placed himself by my side, and tried to enter into conversation, but I must confess that I had great difficulty in making out what he said I tried, however, to look very wise, lest his majesty might lose patience, for there was something in his countenance which showed me that he might be apt to do so, as is often the case with persons who have been accustomed to have their own way. We were still carrying on this somewhat unintelligible conversation, when loud shouts were heard, and the king and I going to the door of the hut saw the young men who had been sent to bring in the dead ape, four carrying the skin, with the head stuck on a pole, and the arms stretched out, and the rest bearing the body, cut up into portions. From the way the king licked his lips, I suspected that he intended to enjoy a feast on the flesh of the beast. I should as soon thought of eating a human being, so human did it look in many respects. They halted before us, and asked what they were to do with it. I, in reply, merely claimed the skin, at which they appeared well satisfied, and marched off with the remainder to the king's house at the other side of the square. I hoped, by hanging up the skin, we might be able to clean it, and preserve it sufficiently to carry it with us to the coast, for I was sure that otherwise no one would believe that so enormous an ape existed. I managed to make the king understand what I wanted, and he, with several other persons whom he summoned, assisted me in hanging it up to a branch of a tree, my intention being to light a fire under it, and try to cure it by smoking. I was thus employed when I heard several shots. The king and his attendants rushed out to the front of the house, and I followed. They were evidently in a state of agitation, wondering what the shots could mean. Presently we heard shouts. In a short time a number of persons appeared at the further end of the town. As they drew near, to my great joy I recognised Charley and Harry with Tom Tubbs and Aboh, accompanied by Prince Ombay. On seeing me they all hurried forward, eager to know how I had been separated from them and found my way to the village. While I briefly narrated my adventures, Prince Ombay learned how I had rescued his sister. He now came forward and embraced me, telling me that I was his brother, that we should never part. Calling Aboh, I begged him to say everything civil he could think of; but, at the same time, not to commit me by making any promises on my part. The king in his generosity would have appropriated a house to each of us, but we begged that we might be allowed to live together in the one he had fixed on for me, which was amply large enough for all of us. We could thus, we agreed, defend ourselves should the feelings of the people assume any unpleasant change towards us; or we could, if necessary, better arrange for making our escape should the king take it into his head to detain us. At present everything appeared at pleasant as we could desire. Soon after we had taken possession of the house a number of girls appeared with baskets of provisions on their heads, and bowls of farina. There was flesh and fowl and fruits of all descriptions. We told Aboh that we should be very glad if he would bring us some big bowls of water in which we could wash our feet, and as he had before seen us perform that operation, he at once understood what we wanted. Hastening out, he quickly returned with a large gourd full of cool water, supplied by a spring which ran from a hill close to the village. We were about to perform our ablutions, when a damsel appeared carrying a basket of fruit on her head. She approached accompanied by a white-haired old gentleman clothed in one of the robes I have described. Looking up I recognised Iguma. I asked Aboh who the old gentleman was, suspecting that he had come with some object in view. "That's her grandfather," he answered, looking very knowing. We, of course, rose to greet the young lady, and to receive and open the basket she had brought. The ebon damsel then said something, and stood with her hands clasped before her. What it was about I, of course, could not exactly make out, and Aboh did not appear inclined to translate it. Her venerable grandsire then made a long speech. It was even more unintelligible to us than were the words which had dropped from Iguma's lips. At last we were obliged to apply to Aboh for information. "Him say makee her wife," said Aboh at length. It was certainly a great abridgment of what had been uttered by the old man, although probably it contained the pith of the matter. "Tell him," said Charley, pointing to me, "that I am his elder brother, that he cannot marry without my leave, and that I consider him far too young to think about taking upon himself the responsibilities of matrimony. That he must come home first then, if he gets our parents permission, that he will come back with chains and beads and looking-glasses, and ornaments of all sorts for the young lady, and guns, powder and shot, and a variety of other articles for her papa. Make this very clear, if you please, for I must have no misunderstanding on that point." Aboh, who understood the chief part of what Charley had said, immediately translated it to the old gentleman, with a good many additions of his own. Iguma pouted a little at the thought, I suppose, of having to wait so long, on which I told Aboh to remind her of the quantity of beads I was to bring when I got our father's leave to marry a black wife. I must own I had my doubts how far we were justified in using this deceit, but our position was a difficult one and might become dangerous, and just then we did not consider the consequences which might result from the artifice we had resorted to. I tried to make Iguma understand how much I was obliged to her by eating some of the food she had brought, and assuring her how very nice I found it. At last she appeared tolerably well satisfied, and as it was getting late she and her grandfather took their departure. We were now left alone, with only Aboh and Shimbo to attend on us. "Things have turned out much better than I expected, and we are very jolly here," observed Charley; "but I wonder whether Mr Sanga Tanga will let us proceed on our journey." "To my mind I am afraid that, now he has got us, he intends to keep us," observed Tom. "These nigger chiefs fancy that white men can do everything, and as we have arms and ammunition, the king will, I suspect, take it into his head to try and conquer all the country round him. King Quagomolo, as he calls himself, is evidently afraid of him, or he would not have given me and our traps up so easily." "We, however, must try and get away," observed Harry; "we may be jolly enough, as Charley says, just now, but we shall soon get weary of the life." "We must first try fair means, and endeavour to persuade the king to let us go home to ask our father to allow Dick to marry Miss Iguma, as I propose," said Charley; "that appears to me to be the safest plan to pursue." "But suppose the king says no, and insists on your brother marrying his daughter with or without your father's leave, what's to be done then?" "We must cut and run," I exclaimed; "I should be very sorry to treat the young lady ill, but if her father insists on my marrying her, I shall regret having been the means of saving her from the wild man of the woods. I certainly thought that he would be grateful to me for what I had done, but I confess that he exhibits his gratitude in a very awkward manner as far as I am concerned. However, there is no use talking about the matter any longer, I'm getting very sleepy, and should be glad to turn in and get a quiet snooze, after spending the last three nights up trees." My companions were ready enough to follow my advice, and we all wrapped ourselves up in the pieces of matting with which our new friends had supplied us, and went to sleep. CHAPTER TWELVE. WE FIND WE ARE NOT TO BE IDLE--A BUFFALO HUNT--TWO GOOD SHOTS--AGAIN AT THE BUFFALO--A STRANGE STEED AND RIDER--I SHOOT BOTH, AND SAVE OMBAY'S LIFE--MUCH BEAUTIFUL GAME--A COMMOTION IN THE VILLAGE--OUR SLEEP DISTURBED--THE APE SKIN DESTROYED BY THE ANTS--TOM'S PLAN OF ESCAPE-- PRINCE OMBAY SEES THROUGH IT--A GRAND HUNT--A NOVEL USE FOR A NET--KILL THIRTY HEAD OF GAME--WILL TOM TAKE THE PRINCESS OFF MY HANDS--A DELIGHTFUL SURPRISE--THE MARRIAGE--A NOISY WEDDING BREAKFAST--A BARBAROUS DANCE--THE NATIVE IDOLS--NATIVE SUPERSTITIONS--WE DETERMINE TO MAKE OUR ESCAPE. We were allowed a day to rest after our long journey, and were supplied with abundance of food, but we soon found that our entertainers had no intention that we should eat the bread of idleness. Prince Ombay, as we called him, came to see us early the second morning after our arrival, and began talking away at a great rate. We nodded our heads to show that we were listening, but as we could not understand more than every tenth word he uttered, Charley summoned Aboh. "Him say go out hunting, kill big beast horns on head." "I suppose he means buffalo," observed Charley. "Or deer," suggested Harry. "Are the animals he speaks of big and hairy, or slight and thin, with very long horns?" I inquired of Aboh. Aboh put his thumbs up above his head, and then with his hands described a fat animal with long hair, and made a bellowing noise. "Ah, he means buffalo, there is no doubt about that," observed Charley. "Tell our friend we shall be happy to accompany him, and if he can show us the buffalo, we will do our best to shoot them." Ombay, on this answer being interpreted to him, appeared well satisfied. Taking his departure, he in a short time returned accompanied by about twenty young men armed with spears and javelins--the prince and a few of his companions of more exalted rank having hangers, mostly rather the worse for wear. We got our guns ready, and a sufficient amount of ammunition for the day, and placing our knapsacks and other valuables under the charge of Shimbo, who promised that he would allow no one to steal them; we announced that we were ready to set off. Ombay kept Aboh by his side, that he might converse with us whenever he pleased. We had a long march before we stopped to dine, but the party had brought a good supply of provisions, and we had as much food as we required. We then again set out, and continued our way until near sunset; when we arrived at the edge of a wide prairie, bordered by the forest through which we had passed. "Here big beast soon come," observed Aboh. According to the custom of the country, our companions immediately began to set up screens of branches, behind which we were to take our post. Harry and I were together, Charley and Tom were stationed behind another screen, at a little distance off. We had to wait there for some time, when I heard Aboh, who was with us, whisper something. Presently my ears caught the sound of the trampling of hoofs, and directly afterwards I saw by the light of the moon, just then rising, a herd of thirty or more magnificent animals emerging from the forest, and scattering themselves widely over the grassy plain in front of us. We were fortunately to leeward, or our shelter would have availed us nothing. We had now to wait patiently until some of the herd might make their way to our screen. How soon they would do this it was impossible to say. At all events, there was a prospect of our patience being severely tried. We remained as silent as death. In a short time the buffalo, who seemed not to apprehend danger, began gambolling and sporting with each other. As there appeared no chance of their coming close to us, Ombay made a sign to Harry and me to accompany him, and showed us how we were to crawl along the grass until we got near enough to have a shot. We were prepared for this, and gladly undertook to do as he proposed. Just then the moon was obscured by a cloud, and taking advantage of this he set out. We followed close behind him, creeping along with our heads just raised above the grass. We stopped whenever he did, on seeing the buffalo look towards us. Presently we were close enough to obtain fair shots. I was afraid, should we attempt to get nearer, that the animals might take alarm and scamper off. I therefore signed to Harry to shoot one, while I aimed at another no great distance from us. Without waiting for a signal from Ombay, we rose to our knees and fired. The two animals at which we had aimed leapt into the air at the same moment, and fell over dead. Ombay, who had not expected us to make such excellent shots, on this shouted with delight. The rest of the herd of course galloped off, and were soon lost to sight amid the trunks of trees on the opposite side of the prairie. The hunters on seeing this rushed out, and instantly began flaying the animals, and cutting them up. Each man having loaded himself with as much as he could carry, we returned to a spot inside the forest, previously chosen by our leader. Fires were lighted, and our companions were soon making merry over the buffalo meat. We found it fairly flavoured, but rather tough. Our camp was formed in the usual manner with lean-to's, beneath which we sheltered ourselves, and fires in front of them, the smoke of which contributed to keep off the stinging insects which abounded, and the bright light was calculated to scare the savage animals of the forest. We had now become so familiarised to this sort of life, that we thought nothing of it. Early in the morning Ombay called us up and told us, through our interpreter, that buffalo were again likely to be feeding in the prairie, and that we might have a chance of killing two or three more. Of course we were ready for the sport,--indeed, the more animals we killed, the more likely we were to propitiate the chief and his son. We felt all the time that we were prisoners, although not actually in chains, and that our masters might, at any time, change their conduct and ill-treat us. Jumping up from our bed of leaves, we shouldered our guns, and accompanied by Aboh, we attended the prince and his party--a few of the men only remaining to look after the camp and buffalo meat. As we were making our way through the forest, we got somewhat separated from the chief, of whom we caught a sight just as we were nearing the prairie. We were hastening to overtake him, when a rending and crashing sound reached our ears, followed by the most tremendous bellowing I ever heard. Then came a sharp bark--so it sounded--and a roar such as I had heard proceeding from the huge man ape I had encountered in the forest. The next instant a buffalo burst from the cover. To its back was clinging one of the monster creatures I have just mentioned. It clung on with its powerful legs and arms with a tenacity against which all the efforts of the buffalo to free itself were unavailing. Maddened with terror, on dashed the buffalo, which was making its way directly towards Ombay, who stood seemingly paralysed by fear or astonishment. No tree which he could possibly climb up was near at hand. I saw that in a few seconds the buffalo would be upon him, and that he would be either gored to death or trampled under foot by it; or that the ape, springing from its back, might, with its savage jaws and hands, tear him to pieces. I, for a moment, was doubtful whether to kill the buffalo, or the still more savage creature which bestrode it. I decided on aiming at the buffalo; I might stop it in its mad career, and, rolling over it might crush the creature on its back, or else I might have time to reload before the ape could reach me. I took good aim, the buffalo's shoulder was presented to me, I fired, and the huge animal, after bounding forward three or four yards, came to the ground with a tremendous crash, catching the leg of the ape beneath it as it rolled over on its back. Without a moment's loss of time I reloaded, for the ape was not likely to be much injured. Scarcely had I done so, when the monster, quickly extricating itself, and catching sight of Prince Ombay, with a terrific roar, striking its breast, made towards him. In another instant the young black would have received a blow from its tremendous paws, or have been seized by the fearful grinders which, giving a savage growl, it exhibited as it opened its mouth. I could not have imagined a creature with a more diabolical countenance. Human as it looked, I had no hesitation in killing it. I fired, and my bullet striking it in the breast, it fell flat on its face, emitting, as it did so, a hideous death-cry, half roar, half shriek, which echoed through the forest, and was repeated, it teemed to me, by others of the same species. Ombay, who had been fully aware of his danger, quickly recovered, and springing forward, dealt a blow with his hanger at the neck of the monster, which nearly severed the head from the body. He then, seeing me advancing, hastened forward to express his thanks, and I believe that he really was grateful to me for saving his life, although I fancy he wished to gain the credit of having killed his assailant himself. The uproar had frightened away all the other buffaloes, so, with the bodies of the one I had killed, and the ape, we forthwith returned to the camp to enjoy a hearty breakfast. The natives cut up the body of the ape, and ate it with as little compunction as they would have done mutton or beef. Charley and Harry, who were close behind me when I fired, declared that they had never seen better shots in their lives. "I felt that much depended on my taking good aim," I replied. "I was anxious to save the life of a fellow-creature, besides which, I hope, that by rendering him a service, we may have a better chance of being allowed to proceed upon our journey." I wished that we had had our knapsacks and could have at once set off, without the pain of taking leave of King Sanga Tanga and the lovely Iguma. We told Aboh that we should like to secure the skin of the ape, but he replied that none of the young men would like the trouble of carrying it. On our way back we met with several beautiful antelopes, and two or three kinds of gazelles, which bounded away before we could get near enough to obtain a shot at them. There was one of a bright orange colour with a chestnut patch between the horns and eyes, below which was a white crescent-shaped mark, while its body was completely covered with stripes from head to tail, of a lighter colour than the rest of the skin. Although somewhat heavily built, it was graceful in its motions and exceedingly swift of foot, so that in little more than a minute the herd near to which we had got bounded out of sight. We saw two leopards, but they took good care not to come near us, they were certainly upwards of five feet in length. Tiger-cats, some of unusual size, abounded, and would have been dangerous to encounter unarmed. Charley shot an iguana, which, ugly as it looked, afforded us a pleasanter meal than the buffalo meat. As to the monkeys, they were innumerable. On passing over a stream we caught sight of several beautiful little monkeys, not bigger than rats, frisking about among the boughs just as we had seen them on a previous occasion. Near them were some birds, which kept hopping to and fro on the same branches, apparently on the most intimate terms with these diminutive quadrumana. By putting up screens and waiting patiently, we managed to kill several antelopes and other animals, so that we returned to the village laden with meat. On entering, we found the inhabitants in a state of commotion in consequence of the arrival of a person of importance, who was then said to be having an audience with the king, but who he was, or what he had come about, we could not learn. By this time we had expended all our ammunition, and we hastened to our house to replenish our stock, in case, by any chance, we might have to use our arms. We felt that our position was critical, for at any moment our capricious masters might turn upon us, and we might have to fight for our lives. We had cause, however, to be grateful to Heaven for our preservation, and for the many dangers we had gone through safely, as also that we had been enabled to retain our health, which, in spite of the heat and fatigue we endured, was excellent. I suspect, however, that had we not been well supplied with wholesome food and pure water, the case would have been different. On arriving at our house, we found Shimbo keeping faithful watch and ward over our property. By his account more than one attempt had been made to steal it, but he had driven away the thieves, so he said, by presenting a stick at them, which they mistook for one of our guns. He could give us no information as to the visitor, nor could Aboh, who went out, learn more than his brother. There was some mystery about the matter, that was certain. We were tired and glad to take the supper which was brought to us already cooked, and consisted of plantains dressed in a variety of ways, and venison, one dish roasted and another stewed in lemon juice. Very excellent both were. Rolling ourselves in our mats, we went to sleep. We had not closed our eyes long when I heard Charley, who was close to the door, cry out lustily. At the same instant I felt myself bitten by numberless creatures crawling over me. Harry and Tom were treated in the same manner. We all sprang to our feet, and, striking a light, discovered that the room was full of ants. They came in battle array, a numerous army pouring in through the door. We rushed out into the garden, where fortunately we found a spot free from them. Immediately lighting a fire, we formed it into a wide circle, in the middle of which we took up our posts. Then helping each other, we were able to relieve ourselves from our venomous assailants, and as we plucked them off we threw them into the flames. We soon found that the whole village was attacked, and that the inhabitants were turning out to defend themselves. They came not in thousands but in millions, covering the streets and forcing their way onwards. We saw that fires were lighted in all directions, but whenever there was no time to collect fuel and kindle it, the insects, marching onward, destroyed everything in their way. Although they fell by tens of thousands, others took their places. It was not until the morning that they disappeared, having destroyed in that short time a large portion of the provisions in the place. Fortunately they did not eat up the fruit nor the live animals, but among other things destroyed was the skin of the huge ape which we had intended to take to England to exhibit to naturalists, feeling sure it would create more surprise than anything else we could carry with us. The entire skin was devoured, and the head picked clean so that only a whitened skull remained. As we had been up all night fighting the ants, we were glad to lie down again and obtain some sleep in quiet. We had just risen, rubbing our eyes and still feeling very drowsy, when Prince Ombay came in and invited us to accompany him on another hunt, observing that it was necessary to replenish the stock of provisions destroyed by the ants. We, of course, could not refuse. "I would advise, gentlemen," said Tom, when he heard through Aboh what the prince wished, "that we carry our knapsacks on our backs, and then, if we have the chance, we can take French leave of our friends. They would scarcely attempt to stop us by force; and one can make them understand that we must be off." "Tom's advice is good," said Charley. "Let us clap on our packs as a matter of course." We had a scanty breakfast, as the whole of the village was on short commons. We hoped before long to get some venison, on which we could feast before taking to flight. When, however, the prince saw what we were about, with a smiling countenance he said-- "Hang up your fetishes again, you can do without them when hunting, and when you come back you can worship at your leisure." From this we found that our knapsacks were looked upon as objects of worship, perhaps this accounted for their not having been stolen. Charley tried to persuade the prince that we should kill more game if we took them, but he either suspected our intentions, or thought that they were safer in our houses, and insisted that we should leave them behind us. We had let Aboh understand what we had been doing, for we knew we could trust him, but we thought it wise not to say anything to Shimbo until the moment had arrived, when Aboh would tell him of our intentions, feeling sure that he would be ready to accompany us. In vain we tried to persuade Ombay that we should be more successful if we carried our knapsacks. He, putting on a knowing look, again refused, and we were finally compelled to set off without them. "We must wait for another opportunity," said Charley; "it will come some day or other, and it is very evident that we shall have to practise no small amount of patience." "I have been thinking seriously that I could make my way down to the coast alone," said Tom, "and if I could fall in with an English vessel, I might form a party of men to help you. I know that there is some danger, but it matters very little if Tom Tubbs loses his life, although it would be a sad thing for you three young gentlemen to be kept prisoners by these black fellows for the rest of your lives." "No fear of that," answered Charley. "We may find ourselves free sooner than you expect. There must be rivers to the north of us, and if we could once get to the banks of one of them, we could make our way down to the sea in a canoe. The longer we remain with King Sanga Tanga, the more confidence the people will have in us. At present we have only Hobson's choice, stop here we must." On this occasion the prince was accompanied by three times as many hunters as before. We were expected to take an active part in the sport. We proceeded nearly a couple of days journey, when we formed a camp, and the hunters went out prepared to kill either elephants, buffaloes, deer, or wild pigs; indeed, for some object or other, they seemed anxious to accumulate a large supply of food. The first day they killed two elephants, much in the same manner as I have before described. The following day Charley, Harry, and I killed two buffaloes and three deer, while the natives were not nearly so successful. Parties arrived from the village to carry home the game we had already shot. We were shortly afterwards joined by a number of strangers, who came in, we found, from the different villages at a distance, though all under the government of King Sanga Tanga, each party bringing a large net, a similar net having arrived from our village. On examining them, we found that they were made from the fibre of the pine apple plant and that of other trees twisted into thick thread. Each net was about seventy feet long, and nearly five feet in height. The villagers--I should have said--were accompanied by packs of little sharp-eared dogs, who gave vent to loud yelps. Accompanied by these dogs, about twenty men, taking between them one of the nets, of which there were altogether about a dozen, set off to a spot fixed on, where there was a clearing in the forest. Not a word was spoken as the men crept along, followed by the dogs, which were kept close together, and seemed to understand that they were not to bark. On reaching the ground, the hunters commenced stretching the nets, fastening them up to the lower branches of trees and shrubs, forming altogether a semi-circle, upwards of half a mile in length. A party was stationed at both ends of the nets thus arranged, armed with their spears and darts, to prevent any of the game escaping; the rest of the men, whom we accompanied, then extended themselves in another semi-circle on the concave side of the net, at the distance of a mile or more from it. Thus we advanced, the dogs barking, and the men shouting, while we held our guns ready to shoot, and the natives had their darts prepared for instant action. We might fall in with an elephant, or buffalo, or leopard, which would of course laugh at the nets, but the belief appeared to be that no such animals were likely to be found within the space we embraced. It was often difficult work making our way through the dense forest, and the natives had to hew paths for themselves with their hangers. Getting in sight of the nets, we saw, stopped by them, half a dozen gazelles, and antelopes of different species, two very large ones of the latter description, which I should have thought would have forced their way through the net had they made the attempt. We fired, and brought them down. Two gazelles were caught in the net, and others were knocked over by the natives. Altogether, the haul was considered a very good one. As soon as the animals were secured, the nets were collected, and the party moving off to another part of the forest, again spread them in the same way. Altogether, in the course of the day we killed thirty head of game of different species, when we returned in triumph to the capital of King Sanga Tanga, who came out to meet us, and was especially civil to us, his white guests, who had so greatly assisted in supplying him with this large amount of game. On coming back to our house we asked Aboh if he could explain why the king wished to obtain this large amount of game, as all the inhabitants together could not consume it. Aboh looked very knowing. "Him daughter goin' take husband," he answered. A feeling of dread came over me as he said this. What if the king intended to make me, _nolens volens_, marry his daughter. It seemed impossible. I expressed my fears to Charley. "I wish that I could relieve your anxiety," he answered. "But I tell you what, perhaps Tom would not mind so much. We may ask the king to take him instead of you." "But the young lady, she would object to that," I said, in a tone which made Charley fancy that my vanity was wounded. He laughed heartily, and Harry joined him. "Perhaps you think Tom is too old for the young woman," he added. "Oh! no, no," I answered, "he is heartily welcome to her for that matter." However, the next day the business was settled in a more satisfactory way than any of us expected, or supposed possible. It appeared that the prince, or the heir-apparent of a neighbouring kingdom considerably to the northward, had seen (I must not call her the "fair") Iguma, and had fallen desperately in love with her. He had arrived during our previous absence with a large party of followers, bringing treasures of all sorts, elephants' tasks, rolls of matting, and various other articles. The king having observed my unwillingness to become his son-in-law, and the young lady being piqued at my indifference, had accepted her black suitor. Indeed, the treasures he offered were far greater than any we possessed, which probably weighed chiefly with his majesty. We hitherto had not seen the happy bridegroom, Prince Kendo, who had been living since his arrival in a hut by himself. The ceremony was to take place that very day, when the various gifts, or the amount he was to pay for his bride, were to be openly presented in the square of the village. At the hour fixed on, the prince made his appearance at the door of the house, his head decked with coloured feathers, a panther robe over his shoulders, his hunting knife stuck in his belt, to which also was fastened a sort of kilt of coloured matting, ornamented with feathers, while his whole body was freshly oiled and painted. His attendants, who bore his goods, were habited in a somewhat similar manner. As soon as he appeared, the king came forth leading his daughter. I cannot say that she was over-encumbered by robes, but her arms and ankles were encircled by rings. Her head was decked with coloured beads, and a chain of beads and charms hung round her neck. Prince Kendo, ordering his attendants to place the goods he had brought in front of the king's palace, advanced, carrying a big tusk, the last article of value which he had agreed to pay for his bride. On the king receiving it, the prince stretched out his hand and took that of the lady's, when Sanga Tanga gave her his paternal blessing, and apparently a large amount of good advice, the only ceremony, as far as we could discover, performed on the occasion. She had now become the bride of the prince, and I must own that I breathed more freely when I saw him lead her away, and felt satisfied that the king would no longer insist on my becoming her husband. The ceremony, such as it was, being concluded, the people began to shriek and shout at the top of their voices, congratulating the prince on becoming the possessor of so lovely a bride. Tom-toms were heard beating in all directions, and horns sounding, and the whole capital was in an uproar. The feast then began, and the cooks, who had been busily employed all the morning in roasting, stewing, and boiling, produced the result of their labours in baskets and dishes, which were spread out in front of the king's house, which was on this occasion to serve as a banquet hall. The guests quickly assembled, the bride and bridegroom taking, if not the head of the table, the post of honour, while King Sanga Tanga, the heir-apparent, and the old grandfather and other members of the family, placed themselves on either side. At first matters were conducted quietly enough, the guests eating to their heart's content; but when the palm-wine began to circulate freely, they, like persons in more civilised communities under similar circumstances, became uproarious. The old grandfather tumbled not under the table, but at full length on the ground; King Sanga Tanga cried out that it was time to commence dancing, and he himself starting up, set the example, and the crowd forming a circle, he performed a series of eccentric evolutions, similar to those exhibited on a previous occasion by his brother monarch King Quagomolo; when at last, overcome by his exertions, he sank down on the ground close to the royal portion of the circle, the bride and bridegroom springing up went through a like performance. Their places were taken by a number of courtiers and the ladies, if I can so describe them of the royal household, but for obvious reasons I will not describe the style of their dancing. It was barbarism run mad, and our chief feeling was disgust that human beings should so degrade themselves. "Abominable!" cried Charley. "It is wrong to sanction by our presence such doings, and if we retire to our house, and afterwards tell Sanga Tanga why we did so, it may perhaps open his eyes to the true character of what is going forward." "Well," exclaimed Tom, "I've seen many a rum sight, but this beats even the worst I ever beheld in a seaport town in England, or elsewhere, and that's saying a good deal." With these words Tom turned his back on the performers, and followed us to the house. So absorbed were the spectators in the dancing--if dancing it could be called--that they did not perceive our departure. We could hear the shrieks and shouts of laughter and applause, the drumming on tom-toms, and the sound of the horns until a late hour in the night. We had evidence of many barbarous customs of the natives, which I have not mentioned. I do not say that they are more savage, or rather fierce, than people of other parts of the world; indeed, in some respects they are less so, but their barbarism is the result of their ignorance and debased condition. They have no religion--properly so called--their only belief is in what we denote fetishism, which is a word taken from the Portuguese _feticeira_ or witch. They have idols, but they can scarcely be said to worship these, and they believe that power resides in serpents and birds, as well as in inanimate objects, such as mountain peaks, in bones, and feathers, and they believe also that good and evil spirits exist, and that charms have a powerful influence, as likewise that dreams signify something, but in many of these respects they really do not differ materially from their white brethren of more civilised countries. The ignorant people of many European nations believe in charms. They bow down before statues, certainly more attractive in appearance than the African's fetish god, but still things of stone. The people we met were certainly superstitious in the highest degree, but they nearly all differed in their ideas, as did even the people of the same tribe. As far as we could ascertain, they have no notion of the immortality of the soul, although they fancy that the spirit exists for a short time after it leaves the body. They dread such spirits more than they reverence them, and believe that they are rather inclined to do them harm than good. They therefore place offerings at their graves, for the sake of propitiating them, sometimes offering up a human sacrifice for the same purpose--some unfortunate slave who is of little value to them. In our village we saw a large idol in a house built expressly for the purpose. It was a hideous, ill-constructed monster, and it seemed scarcely possible, ignorant as the people were, that they could really worship such an object, but they did so if they wanted to gain benefit, either to obtain victory in war, or success in the chase. On such occasions we saw them presenting food, and then dancing and singing before it. Many of the people also had small family idols which they worshipped much in the same manner; but if they did not obtain what they wanted from the idol, they were very apt to send it away in disgrace. They have also a belief in the power of certain doctors or medicine men, who exorcise evil spirits, and concoct charms. In these charms they have more faith than anything else. They are generally done up in the skins of animals, and consist of bones, or feathers, or ashes, or the skins or bones of snakes. The manufacture of these charms brings a large revenue to the doctors, who constantly encourage their use, just as do the priests of certain white nations, who make their dupes pay for the trumpery leaden figures or images, which they persuade them to wear round their necks. "On my word, I do not see much difference after all, between the belief of the ignorant Russians, or Spaniards, or Portuguese, or other European people, and these unhappy blacks," exclaimed Harry one day when we were discussing the subject. The fearful curse of the country, however, is the belief in witchcraft. When a person is seized with illness, he always believes that some enemy has caused it, and is not satisfied until the witch or wizard is discovered, who is immediately compelled to swallow poison, or is barbarously put to death in some other way. I prefer thus giving a short account of the superstitions of the people, and the evil which results from them, to detailing the abominations and horrors, which on various occasions we witnessed during our wanderings through the country. That evening we came to the resolution of endeavouring to make our escape as soon as we possibly could. We believed that we could depend upon Aboh and his brother, and that they would influence several of their tribe who had been captured, but were allowed to go at liberty. As we could not sleep, owing to the hideous noise going on in the village, so we sat up to a late hour, discussing our plans for the future. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. WE ARE EXPECTED TO GO OUT HUNTING AGAIN--WE COMPLAIN TO THE KING AND DEMAND OUR FREEDOM--REMIND HIM OF OUR GOOD SERVICES--HIS INGRATITUDE-- NEITHER BRIBERY OR THREATS AFFECT HIM--OUR CONDITION BECOMES WORSE--TOM FEIGNS ILLNESS--HIS HOWLS AROUSE THE VILLAGE--HE FRIGHTENS THE KING--THE KING FALLS ILL--WE DETERMINE TO ESCAPE WITH THE OTHER BLACK PRISONERS-- THE MEDICINE MAN THE ONLY WEASEL IN THE VILLAGE--WE ARE PURSUED--ONE OF OUR MEN HIT--WE FIRE--TOM HIT--WE CHECK THE NATIVES--WE MAKE FOR A DEFENSIVE POSITION--THE ENEMY AGAIN COME UP WITH US--THE MORNING IS BREAKING--TWO VOLLEYS DISPERSE OUR PURSUERS--WE REST--SEE A VILLAGE-- SIGHT A RIVER--OUR PLANS FOR DESCENDING IT--MEET A HUNTING PARTY--THEY SEIZE US--CARRIED BEFORE THE KING--OUR CAPTOR TELLS "ONE BIG LIE"--WE RECOVER OUR GUNS--SLEEP IN A DIRTY HUT--EAT THE FOOD IN OUR KNAPSACKS-- THE KING SURPRISED AT OUR ENDURANCE--A WELCOME PRESENT FROM AN UNKNOWN FRIEND--OUR CONFINEMENT AFFECTS OUR HEALTH, AND WE PREPARE TO FIGHT FOR LIBERTY--A STARTLING RECOGNITION--CAPTAIN RODERICK UNDERTAKES TO OBTAIN OUR RELEASE--AN AGREEABLE CHANGE OF QUARTERS--THE GENERAL'S POWERFUL FETISH--CAPTAIN RODERICK'S DETERMINATION NEVER TO RETURN TO ENGLAND-- PATIENCE IN CAPTIVITY. The bride and bridegroom had taken their departure northwards. We tried to ascertain the exact position of their village in order that we might avoid it, rather than pay the young couple a visit. As soon as the game we had taken was exhausted, the king wanted us once more to start on a hunting expedition, but we had come to the resolution of going as seldom as possible, that we might avoid the expenditure of our ammunition. It was necessary to husband that, as we should certainly require it on our journey. Although we were apparently allowed our liberty, we were conscious that we were narrowly watched, and that, therefore, we should find great difficulty in making our escape by stealth. Tom Tubbs having completely recovered his strength, and we three being in good condition, we determined to go to the king and boldly request guides and an escort to the northward as far as his jurisdiction extended, at the same time, to demand the release of Aboh and Shimbo, who were willing to accompany us instead of returning to their own village. Taking Aboh with us, when we knew the king was at home, we proceeded together to his palace. His majesty was seated under the veranda in front on a pile of matting, with a huge pipe in his mouth, attending to the affairs of state, for several of his counsellors were seated on either side of him. Harry, who had learned more of the language than either Charley or I, and looked considerably older than either of us, was deputed to be spokesman, having the aid of Aboh as an interpreter, should he come to a standstill for want of words on his part, or from not being able to comprehend the meaning of what the king said. He acquitted himself, as far as we could judge, wonderfully well. He pointed out that we had been made prisoners when travelling peaceably through the country, and been compelled to accompany his people, that we had since then enjoyed our liberty, and that we had made good use of it. In the first place, by saving his daughter from the wild man of the woods, then preserving his son from the charge of the buffalo, that we had killed enough game to support ourselves, and should have been ready to assist him in any other way in our power, but that we now desired to return to our own country. That we should be obliged to his majesty if he would furnish us with the means of proceeding on our journey. The king, who seemed to understand perfectly what was said--Aboh aiding with a few words here and there--gave a smile and replied-- "That he would consider the matter, that he esteemed us very much, that we were good hunters, and had brought peace and prosperity to the country, as no enemies would dare to attack his people while we remained with him. But, if you go away, what will become of me?" he asked. "What shall I say to that?" asked Harry, turning round to Charley and me. "Tell the king that he must manage as he did before we had the honour of making his acquaintance," answered Charley; "that we are very glad to have been of service to him hitherto, still, that now our hearts are yearning for home, and that if he detains us against our will, our spirits will sink, and we shall no longer be able to help him." The king grinned horribly, and said something of which neither Harry nor any of us could make out the meaning. "What did he say?" we inquired of Aboh. "Him say, cut him head off," answered Aboh; "me tinkee him mean it too." This was unpleasant information, but we thought it as well not to take notice of it, but it convinced us plainly that the king would not agree to our request. "Endeavour to bribe the king with promises of the things we will send him," said Charley; "tell him we will pay him handsomely." "I'll try," replied Harry, and forthwith he began to pour out all the native words he could recollect. It is just possible that he put in two or three by mistake, which had a very contrary meaning, for the king looked sometimes surprised, then angry, then highly amused, but yet he would not give the permission we requested. "Try again if he can't be bribed," said Charley. "Promise that we will send him all sorts of things from England, if he will tell us how they are to be transmitted." Harry did his best to carry out Charley's wishes, Aboh interpreting the words of the king. He said that a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush, that if we got away we might forget the promise we had made, or that if we sent the things, they might be lost long before they could reach him. "Now try him on the threatening tack," said Charley; "tell him what a great man our king is, that ten of his soldiers would put to flight a whole army of his blacks, and that if he does not let us go, our king will send two or three hundred men, who will be landed from our ships, and march up the country to look for us." "They have not yet arrived," said the king, with another of those sardonic grins in which he often indulged. "It will take them some time to get here, and when they do come, they will have to fight us if they come as enemies." "Tell the obstinate old fellow that they will come notwithstanding, and will blow him and his village up to the top of the mountains," exclaimed Charley, who grew impatient at the king's refusal. Harry did not say this, however, for two reasons. In the first place, he thought it would be imprudent, and in the second, he could not find words to express himself. He said something equivalent to it, however, which had no apparent effect on the king's mind. At last we were obliged to leave his majesty, determined notwithstanding, as Tom advised, to take French leave, and go on the first opportunity. Our condition after this became much worse than it had been before. We were compelled to go into the plantations, and to dig and hoe the ground. We at first refused, declaring that we were hunters and not cultivators of the soil. We expostulated again and again reminding the king how we had saved his daughter and son from death. He only answered "that his daughter did not now belong to him, and his son must answer for himself." This convinced us that the black king had not a spark of gratitude in his composition. We, however, addressed ourselves to Prince Ombay, who appeared more inclined to accede to our request than was his father, but he told us he dared not interfere with his authority. Week after week went by, and we were kept in a state of vassalage. When we went out hunting, the king, suspecting that we might make our escape, always kept one of the party at home with our knapsacks. During the whole time, however, neither we, our knapsacks, or our guns were interfered with, the people evidently looking on them as fetishes, not daring to touch them. They also believed us to be something above the common, or we should not have been treated so civilly by them. At last we could bear it no longer. "Come with me, we must fight our way out of this," exclaimed Charley. "That is more easily said than done. Although we might kill a few people we should be overwhelmed with numbers," observed Tom. "Let us try if we cannot deceive them by pretending to be reconciled to our lot," said Harry; "or if one of us shams to be ill, they'll think we cannot move under the circumstances; such a trick would be perfectly justifiable." "Of course it would," said Tom, "and I'll be the one to sham ill, you'll see how I'll howl and shriek, until the people will be glad to get rid of us for the sake of peace and quiet." The next evening Tom put his proposal into execution. No sooner had the villagers turned in than he began howling and shrieking in the most fearful manner. "I think you are overdoing it," observed Harry, "we shall not get any sleep either." "Never mind that for a few hours," answered Tom, "I must howl on until they come and see what's the matter." He got some white earth with which he bedaubed his face, and which made it of an ashy paleness as he now lay covered up with mats on one side of the house. The noise had been heard by the prince, who, with several other persons, came to know what was the matter. Tom made no answer, but howled and shrieked louder than ever, as if racked with pain. Aboh, who had not, however, been let into the secret, informed the prince that the white man was very ill, and that he was afraid we should all catch the same complaint. This was an addition of his own that we had not thought of. Just as he was speaking the king with a number of his wives came in to know what was the cause of the noise. When Aboh told him the same story he darted off with great speed, calling on his son and the rest of the people to beat a retreat from the infected place, and out they all rushed helter skelter, Tom hastening them by another series of shrieks and cries. After this we were left unmolested for the remainder of the night, although Tom once in each watch shrieked and shouted, as he said, "Just to keep the people from forgetting us." Though no one came into the house for several days after this, Aboh was allowed to go out and purchase provisions for us, which we were frequently able to do, with some of the beads and trinkets we possessed. At length one day he came back, looking very much alarmed, saying that the king himself was taken ill, and having declared that some one had bewitched him, had sent for the witch-doctor to find out who it was, and if the rascally doctor fixed on one of us we should have to drink the Mboundow poison. Of course we all declared that we would do no such thing, and laughed at Aboh. "But, I tell you what, perhaps they'll make you or your brother, or one of the rest of your people do so," observed Charley, "the wisest thing you can do is for you all to come to us to-night and we will fight our way out of the village." Aboh agreed, fully believing what Charley said; indeed, there was every probability that he or some of his people would be fixed on by the witch-doctor, when they would to a certainty be put to death. "I'll make them suppose that I'm as bad as the king, or worse," said Tom. As soon as it was evening Tom repeated his howls and shrieks, with even more vehemence, if possible, than before. Just about midnight, when all the people were in bed, Aboh sallied forth. We anxiously waited his return. At last he came back with Shimbo, followed by a dozen of his tribe, who had managed to possess themselves not only of bows and arrows, but of spears and hangers, and were altogether very well armed. Not a moment was to be lost. We had strapped on our knapsacks, and shouldering our muskets we sallied forth as noiselessly as possible. Fortunately no dogs barked, nor, as far as we could tell, had any of the inhabitants heard us. Not a light was burning in any of the houses. The king and his witch-doctor were probably also asleep. Had an enemy attacked the village, the whole of the inhabitants might have been slaughtered before they had time to unite and offer the slightest resistance. We began to congratulate ourselves that we should get a good distance from the village before our flight was discovered. Already we had reached the north end of the high street, and were about to emerge into the open country, when we heard a shout uttered by a single voice. "Who speaks?" I asked of Aboh, who was near me. "Him doctor," said Aboh, "sleep one eye open." "Don't answer him," said Charley, "push on; if we get a good start, they are not likely to follow us in the dark." Fearing that our native allies might be ready to yield, we told them to go on, while Tom and I dropped to the rear to defend them should we be attacked. We now heard several other voices. In a short time the whole village was in an uproar, men shouting, dogs barking, women screaming, fancying, perhaps, that the place was attacked. We feared, of course, that the true state of the case would soon be discovered, and that we should be followed. Whether Ombay and his people would venture to molest us was the question. We marched on steadily, but we had not gone far when we knew, by the increasing noise, that some of the people were on our track. Charley advised us not to fire unless it should become absolutely necessary. The shouts and angry cries of the savages drew nearer and nearer. It was evident that they were rushing on pell mell, still, as long as no arrows were shot at us, we were resolved not to fire. Just then the moon, though waning, rose above the horizon, and showed us a mass of dark forms, waving their weapons, shouting and howling, not a hundred yards off. Tom and I turned round and presented our rifles, shouting loudly to them to keep back. The moonbeams gleaming on the barrels showed the blacks what we were about, and the mob halting we rejoined our companions; again we pushed on. The number of our pursuers increased, we had, however, made up our minds not to yield and not to return; as soon as they saw us again moving on, they began to scamper towards us, shouting as before. "They beat me at that," observed Tom, "but if they don't look out, I'll give them some cause to shriek." Soon after he had spoken an arrow flew near our ears, but fortunately did not strike any of the people ahead of us, another and another followed, at last one of the blacks was hit, as we knew by the cry of pain he uttered. "If that's your game, my lads, you shall have enough of it," exclaimed Tom, turning round and firing a shot into the midst of the savages. Who was struck we could not tell, but they all immediately stopped, though they continued shouting as before. Tom reloading, we ran on. "The next time we must both of us stop and fire," he said. For several minutes we began to hope that the savages had given up the pursuit, but as we could not long keep up the pace at which we were going, we began to slacken our speed. They again overtook us, and shooting a flight of arrows, Tom was hit in the leg, and another black man in the back. "It's your own fault," cried Tom, facing about, when we both fired with evident effect, for we could see the savages rushing back instead of pursuing, well knowing that we had two more muskets amongst us. In consequence of having so frequently gone out on hunting excursions, we all knew the road well. In some places it was rather winding, and we were afraid that the blacks, by cutting off angles, might get on our flanks. However, that could not be helped, and we kept our eyes open to be ready for them at any moment they might appear. Fortunately, Tom's was merely a flesh wound, and it did not occur to us that the arrow was poisoned. The wound bled pretty freely, but there was no time to stop and bind it up. Our pursuers seemed to think that they might have to pay too dearly for the attempt to recover us, and we were now allowed to go on without molestation, we could still hear them, however, shouting in our rear. This only served to make us increase our speed, until our poor slave companions, who well knew that they would in all probability be put to death if we were overtaken--though the people might be afraid to kill us--were on the point of sinking from fatigue. At last, finding that Tom appeared to be suffering from loss of blood, we shouted to Charley and Harry to halt. They were glad enough to do so, both of them coming to assist me in binding up Tom's wound. "I don't think it's anything, and it doesn't hurt me much, if I can keep moving I don't mind," remarked Tom, as we finished the operation. As we were all very tired with our run, which must have carried us six or seven miles, we were proposing to rest, when again we heard the cries in our rear. This made us jump to our feet and push on as before. We remembered a spot on some hilly ground, where the rocks cropped up in a curious fashion, and Charley had observed to me at the time that it was very like a fortress. It was still some miles off, but we determined to make for it as fast as we could go, and there take up our position. Listening attentively, we could occasionally catch the sound of our pursuers' voices coming from a considerable distance, showing that we had got a good way ahead of them, while the light of the moon enabled us to see our way. It was very rugged, now up hills, now down into valleys, though generally through thick woods, when the darkness rendered our progress still more difficult. All the time we dreaded lest some of the more nimble of our enemies might, by cutting across the country, get on our flanks and attack us with their spears, or send a flight of arrows amongst us from behind the trees. There was a chance, too, of our meeting with elephants, which might obstruct the road, or a leopard might spring out upon us. We were all well aware of the dangers to be encountered, but no less resolved were we to face them boldly. Charley and Harry kept calling to me every now and then, to ascertain that we were keeping up with them. The way in which we marched encouraged our black companions, and prevented any of the more faint-hearted among them from deserting. Indeed, it would have been folly in them had they done so, for they would to a certainty have been discovered and slaughtered. At length we reached the hill where we had determined to make a stand, for we were so knocked up by this time, that we could not have proceeded further without rest. It was exactly the sort of place we had expected to find, a collection of rocks forming almost a circle, somewhat resembling the remains of Druidical temples in England. The space where there was no rock was occupied by trees, which would serve as shelter should we be surrounded. We hurried in among the rocks. Our first care was to examine the opening, and the spot where each of us should stand, and then to place our black allies between us. This done, we looked about to try and discover any broken pieces of timber or loose rock, with which we might still further fortify our position. Neither Sanga Tanga nor Ombay were likely to be thirsting for our blood--whatever some of their people might do, whose friends we had killed--their object being rather to recover us and keep us in slavery, to answer their purpose of frightening their enemies, by the idea that having white men among them they were invincible. Should we, therefore, be able to make a bold stand, we hoped to sicken them of the attempt to recover us. "Reserve your fire lads," cried Charley, "don't pull a trigger until you are certain of your man. If we can manage to knock over half a dozen or so, before they get close up to our fortification, the rest will probably run away and give up the pursuit." We were still engaged in stopping up gaps here and there, when we caught sight through the gloom, for day had not yet broken, of a dozen or more dark figures at the foot of the hill. They were apparently looking about to ascertain what had become of us. They seemed to suspect where we were, but were still uncertain. Some then went on ahead to see if we had gone in that direction, while the rest remained where we first discovered them. We might have shot four of the first party, as they were full in our view; but Charley told us in a whisper to refrain from firing, as they were not actually attacking us, and might, it was possible, be peaceably disposed. We could see them clearly enough in the open, although they could not perceive us, sheltered as we were, by the rocks and brushwood. The sky was now becoming brighter towards the east, and in a short time the sun would rise, and we should probably be seen. Just then the men who had gone on returned, and shouting to their companions told them that we were not ahead. Others were also coming up from the southward, we could count nearly fifty of them, while further reinforcements could be perceived in the distance. It was evident that they were resolved on an attack. Bending their bows, they sent a flight of arrows against the rock. We received it with a well-directed fire, which killed four of our opponents, whom we saw tumbling down the hill. This checked the advance, but others who had hitherto been in the rear, pushed on with loud shouts and cries, urging on the van to a renewed attack. We had quickly reloaded behind the rock, and waiting until another flight of arrows had been harmlessly showered on it, we jumped up, and again we all fired together with the same effect as before. Without stopping to see who was killed, our enemies rushed pell mell down the hill, tumbling over each other, while the more prudent ones, who had kept in the rear, also turned and took to flight. "Give them another volley," cried Charley; and having again reloaded, we fired into the retreating masses. It had the desired effect of expediting their flight. Away they went howling and shrieking, and we, our own blacks joining us, uttered a loud shout of triumph. "They'll not come back again," said Charley, who had been watching them from the top of the rock. "I don't believe Sanga Tanga or his precious son are with them, and although he may despatch them again when they get back to the village, it will be a hard matter for them to overtake us. We must have some breakfast and a couple of hours' rest, and then make our way onwards, until we can find another secure place for a camp." We had brought some provisions I should have said, and not far off was a stream of water issuing from the hill. Having despatched our meal, three of us lay down, with all the blacks except Aboh, who undertook to keep watch with me for a portion of the time. I was then to call up Harry, who was to be succeeded by Charley. We agreed that Tom, who was suffering from his wound, should be allowed the full period to rest. Shimbo was to succeed his brother, for we did not wish to trust any of the other blacks. The moment my watch was over, and Harry had taken my place, I was fast asleep. No one came near us, and at the time agreed on we recommenced our march. Our chief anxiety now was about Tom's wound. The poison, if poison there had been, we hoped had been scraped off by the arrow going through his clothes, while the blood which flowed from the wound yet further prevented any dangerous effects. We had gone on for some hours, when having got beyond king Sanga Tanga's country, we came in sight of a village. We could not tell whether the inhabitants might prove friendly. Not to run any risk, we turned off to the right through a thick part of the forest, until we reached a small open space. Here we determined to wait until dark before passing the village. The provisions we had brought with us were nearly exhausted, but we had sufficient for another meal, and we hoped to be able to provide for the next day by our guns, when we should be at such a distance from human habitations that we might kill some game without the fear of the report of our firearms being heard. The rest was very acceptable. It enabled Tom, especially, to regain some of the strength he had lost. As soon as we calculated that the people in the village would be asleep, we decided again to make our way onward. The moon gave us sufficient light to discover the path, and also guide us in the right direction. Next morning Charley fortunately killed a deer, which gave us an abundant supply of food for that day, while our native allies found a number of berries and other fruits. As they ate them readily, we gladly followed their example, for a meat diet, especially under the burning sun of Africa, is far from satisfactory. Thus for several days we went on, occasionally seeing natives, but keeping out of their sight, and avoiding the villages in which we were more likely to find enemies than friends. We were mounting a high hill, when Harry, who had just reached the top, cried out-- "Hurrah, there's a river, I caught sight of the bright stream between the trees." We hurried forward, and could see here and there among the dark foliage the glitter of water in little patches, which extended a considerable distance to the westward. We had great hopes that this really was a river by which we might reach the sea. The scene was a beautiful one. Although the country was chiefly occupied by forests, there were open spaces visible, looking like green meadows, and to the right, downs which reminded us of our own dear England. While we were gazing at it a herd of graceful deer bounded across one of the nearest meadows. In another open space I could see a couple of elephants plucking the leaves with their huge trunks from the trees, and a small baby elephant frolicking near them. As far as we could ascertain, there were no human habitations, but they might be concealed by the forest, and the distance to the river, where villages were likely to be found, was considerable. Our great object now was to secure two or three canoes, in which we might make our way down the river to the sea. We were, we calculated, a couple of hundred miles at least from the mouth, and with the windings the stream probably took it might be half as much again, still, as we should have the current with us, the navigation might be easily performed. Our chief danger of interruption would arise from the inhabitants of any of the villages on the banks, who might take it into their heads to stop us. However, we hoped by running past these at night, we might avoid them without having to fight our way. Ten days had passed since leaving Sanga Tanga's village. Our shoes and clothing were, as may be supposed, in a slightly dilapidated condition, but we were all in good health, and Tom had recovered from his wound. On descending the hill, we made our way through the forest towards the nearest point where we saw water. We had still some beads and trinkets left, and we hoped, should we meet any natives to purchase canoes from them. If not we agreed to try and build them, as Aboh told us that he and his companions were well able to do so. We were in high spirits at the thought of so soon terminating our journey, forgetting that months might elapse after we reached the coast before a vessel made her appearance. We were pushing eagerly on through the forest, with less caution than usual, when we came suddenly upon a large body of armed blacks, who were out evidently on a hunting expedition. Among them was a chief who, by his dress, we saw was a person of importance. It would have been useless to have attempted to escape them, so, telling our blacks to keep behind us, with the exception of Aboh, who came as interpreter, we all advanced towards the chief. Neither Quagomolo or Sanga Tanga were beauties, but this fellow was about the ugliest black we had yet come across, with a most savage expression of countenance. He was very tall and big, with a wonderful muscular development. He inquired who we were, where we had come from, and whither we were going. Harry, who always acted as spokesman, replied that "we had been shipwrecked, and were travelling through the country towards the mouth of the river, where we expected to find a ship to carry us back to England. We wished to be friends, and begged him to assist us with canoes, as we desired to prosecute our journey without delay." Whether or not he understood what Harry said was uncertain. He uttered a loud hoarse laugh, as if he thought that it was a very good joke. We waited some time for a further reply, but the savage did not deign to say anything. At last he exclaimed in a harsh voice, "You must come along with me." "We must have some guarantee that our liberty is not interfered with if we do that," said Harry. I do not remember the exact terms Harry used to express himself, but the savage only grinned. "We must keep clear of this fellow," said Charley; "fall back on our men, he intends mischief." Before, however, we had time to follow his advice, the savage, springing on him, wrenched his gun out of his hand, while the black fellows pressing round us prevented us from using our weapons. Aboh, Shimbo, and the other blacks, seeing that we were overcome, were about to take to flight, but they were immediately surrounded by a large body of enemies, our whole party thus being made prisoners. We were at once hurried unceremoniously along until we reached a large village not far from the bank of the river which we could see flowing tantalisingly by us. We had no time to exchange remarks with each other, or to speculate as to what was to be our fate. At first we fancied that the ugly black was the king of the place, but this we soon discovered was not the case, for, as we were dragged up the main street, we saw issuing from a house of more pretentions than its neighbours another black wearing a red regimental coat on his back with huge epaulets, and a round hat, battered and otherwise the worse for wear, on his head, the insignia of royalty, as we well knew. Our captor made a speech and described to the king how he had taken us prisoners. "Him tell big lie," whispered Aboh, who stood near me. "Him say great fight, we run 'way, him kill us." "What's the fellow's name?" I asked, meaning that of our first captor. "Him callee Mundungo." "And the King?" "Him King Kickubaroo." His majesty seemed perfectly satisfied with his general's statement. It tickled his vanity that his forces should have conquered four white men and an army of blacks, as was the description given of our attendants. In vain Harry tried to explain who we were, and how the affair had happened. The general, on hearing him speak, began vociferating so loudly as to drown his voice. All the efforts we made were fruitless. The louder Harry spoke, the louder Mundungo and his followers shouted. At last the king issued an order, and we were once more surrounded by guards and marched away to a house on the other side of the square, into which we were unceremoniously thrust. "I wonder what these fellows are going to do with us," said Tom. "I say, old fellow," he exclaimed, "give me back that rifle," and he made a spring at one of the men who had possession of his weapon, and snatched it out of his hands. "Tell them that they are fetishes, Mr Harry," cried Tom, "they'll not dare to keep them." Harry shouted out as advised, and we made a simultaneous dash at the men who had possession of our guns. So unexpected was our onslaught, that we were enabled to wrench them from their hands. Before they could regain them we had sprung back into the house. Though the guns were all loaded, they fortunately did not go off in the struggle. From the easy way in which they delivered them up it was very evident they were not acquainted with their use. "Shall we attempt to fight our way out and reach the river?" exclaimed Charley; "perhaps we may find a canoe there. Before these fellows have recovered from their astonishment we may be able to get beyond their reach." "No, no!" cried Harry; "we should to a certainty lose our lives, though we might kill a few of them, and very probably, on reaching the river, we should find no canoe, when we should have to yield at discretion. Since we have recovered out weapons, it will be wiser to remain quiet, and watch for a favourable opportunity. Something or other may turn up, or when the people are off their guard, we can steal away as we did from Sanga Tanga's village." Charley saw the soundness of Harry's advice. We therefore, without making further demonstration, allowed the door to be closed on us. By this time the people outside were shouting and howling and rejoicing over the mighty victory they had gained. "I am sure we acted for the best," said Harry, when we found ourselves alone. "Probably the ugly fellow in the round hat will find out soon that there is no use in keeping us prisoners, and will let us go." "Can't say I agree with you quite," observed Tom. "I don't trust these niggers. They may take it into their heads to cut off ours, or offer us up before one of their abominable fetish gods. The sooner we can get away the better." Aboh, who had been shut up with us, looked very much cast down, and he seemed fully to agree in the fears expressed by Tom. The hut consisted of a single room about twelve feet square, without windows, the light being let in through openings between the walls and the eaves. This served also the purpose of ventilation. There was no furniture, not even a mat, and the floor was anything but clean. As we were tired, we were anxious to lie down, but hesitated to stretch ourselves on the dirty earthen floor. On looking round the room, we, however, discovered two pieces of board, or rather what are called shingles, being portions of a log of wood split by a wedge. Using these as spades, we managed, with considerable trouble, to scrape a space clear of dirt, of sufficient size to enable us all to sit on the ground. We were going to place our backs against the wall, but Aboh warned us that some ill-disposed fellow might thrust his spear through it, and that it would be much safer to take up a position near the centre. Our knapsacks had not been taken away, as our captors possibly suspected that they were part of ourselves; fortunately within them we had stored the remainder of the deer and several birds we had shot the previous days, and which we had cooked for breakfast; we therefore had abundance of food. This was indeed providential, for no provisions were brought us; we had also enough water in our leathern bottles to quench our thirst. We waited until it was dark before we attacked our meal, that the natives might not discover that we had eaten, and would give us credit for a wonderful power of endurance. By economising the food we were able to save enough for breakfast the next morning. At last we lay down to sleep, keeping our rifles by our sides ready for use. We all resolved that should we be attacked to fight to the last. To avoid being surprised, one of us, as usual, kept awake as if we were in camp. Until a late hour we heard the people outside shouting and making a great noise, for a dance was being given in honour of the victory obtained over us. We were left alone during the whole night, and as soon as it was daylight we sat up and ate the remainder of our food, waiting for anything that might occur. It was past noon when the door opened, and the king appeared. "Are you hungry?" he asked, with a grin on his countenance, for he expected to find that we were starving. "Not particularly," answered Harry. "We should not object to a dish of plantains, or some goat's milk, if you will be good enough to send them to us." "You are wonderful men, you don't look as if you could easily be exhausted," observed the king. "My general Mundungo must be a brave warrior to have overcome you." "He's a big knave, at all events," answered Harry. "But that's not to the point at present, what we want now are some plantains and milk, or venison." I don't mean to say that Harry used these exact words, but with the aid of Aboh he thus signified our wishes. After some further conversation, the object for which the king had come being gained, he left us again to ourselves. It was not until near evening that the door opened, and two damsels appeared with baskets on their heads. They placed them on the ground before us, when, much to our satisfaction, we discovered a quantity of plantains, some roast venison, and yams, and also a couple of large gourds, the one containing goat's milk, the other water. "We are much obliged to you for bringing these," said Harry. "And who may I ask, sent them." "A friend," answered one of the girls. "But we were forbidden to tell you who she is. Eat and be satisfied." On this, the girls evidently acting as they had been directed, left the hut, and the door was immediately closed. "I thought, when I saw the baskets, some young woman must have sent the food," observed Tom. "They're alike all the world over, to my mind, the same sort of heart beats inside a black skin as a white one. Things don't look so bad after all." We had provisions enough to last us--if they would keep good--for several days. We agreed to husband them, not knowing when more might be brought us. To prevent any creatures getting into them, we hung them up to the rafters of the roof. Next day we were left entirely alone. We were, as may be supposed, getting impatient, and had good reason to dread what might next happen. Observing the light coming through under the roof, we concluded that we might get a look through the opening, to see what was going forward outside. Towards the back, and one of the sides, the walls of other houses prevented us obtaining any view, but on the other we found that we could look right down the street. I must pass over several days, during which we were kept in confinement. Only once in three days was any food brought us, our benefactor, or benefactress, who sent it, probably not having opportunities for doing so oftener. We could gain no information from the slaves who brought the baskets, nor could we learn anything from the people who were, occasionally sent in to clean out our hut. We were now growing very anxious--moreover, our health was suffering. All sort of dreadful ideas occurred to us, and we fancied that the king was reserving us for some great festival, when he might, as Tom had suggested--sacrifice us to his fetish gods. At last we agreed that, to save ourselves from a worse fate, we would run the risk of breaking out, and fighting our way down to the river. We had been imprisoned for nearly a month, and had settled one evening, that the very next night we would make the attempt. The following day we expected to receive our usual supply of provisions, which we intended to carry with us. Early next morning, as the first gleam of light stole into the room, I climbed up as usual to have a look out, and ascertain whether anything was occurring in the village, when, what was my surprise to see a white man with a gun on his shoulder, and holding by a chain in his left hand a bull dog. Another glance at the dog, and I recognised him as Growler, while the man bore a strong resemblance to Captain Roderick. He had then escaped with his life. I could scarcely suppose that, bad as he was, he would refuse to assist in setting us free. He was evidently at liberty himself, or he would not have walked along in the independent manner he was doing. Guessing that Growler would recognise me, I whistled. The dog immediately pricked up his ears, and began to look about him. Captain Roderick started. "What is it, Growler," I heard him ask. I again whistled, and called to my companions. They started to their feet. "Captain Roderick," I shouted out, "will you assist some of your countrymen in getting away from these black fellows who have imprisoned them?" "Who is that who calls me by my name?" asked the captain in a tone of astonishment, looking up to the place from which my voice proceeded, although he could not distinguish my features under the eaves of the house. Coming to the door, he without further ceremony withdrew the bars which secured it. "Who are you?" he exclaimed, with a look of astonishment, as he saw us ready to rush out. "Don't you remember us, Captain Roderick?" I asked. "I don't wish to claim it as a merit, but we set you at liberty when your ship was wrecked, and enabled you to save your life." "I wish that I had lost it," answered the captain with a gloomy look. "Perhaps you may live to be thankful it was preserved. At all events, we acted desiring to do you a good service, and all we beg is, that if you have the power you will assist us in making our escape from this village, in which for some reason the king seems inclined to keep us prisoners. Why he does so I cannot ascertain." "I can solve the mystery then," he answered; "I confess that I have been the cause of your detention. I have been living with the chief almost ever since I got on shore, having made my way up here immediately, and I am in high favour with him. Two rascals, former followers of mine, while I was out hunting came to the village--intending to remain here, I conclude--but finding by some chance that I had made it my headquarters, they bolted. As I had no wish to have them prying into my proceedings, I charged the king to keep them until my return, as I was on the point of starting up the country on a trading expedition." "That of course accounts for our being kept here," exclaimed Charley. From the description of the men given by Captain Roderick we had no doubt that they were the two pirates who had escaped when we were recaptured. "Now, Captain Roderick," said Charley, "if you will facilitate our return to the coast, we will report favourably of the service you have rendered us, and it may be of some use to you should you ever wish to go back to England and any accusation be brought against you." "As to that, sir, I have no intention of ever returning to my native land," answered the captain in a gloomy tone, "but as I have no grudge against you, I will help you to make your escape, although the rascal who calls himself king here is an eccentric character, and it may not be so easy as you suppose. He gets drunk for six days in the week whenever palm-wine is to be procured, and the seventh amuses himself by cutting off the heads of his faithful subjects and playing other vagaries. Still I have taught him to respect me, and as I have been the means of supplying his treasury, I do not doubt but that he will be ready to do what I ask him in the hopes of retaining my services. I now intend, if he is not too drunk, to rouse him up and tell him to supply you with a better house, and ample food, and a supply of water that you may wash yourselves, for you look remarkably dirty." This I have no doubt we did. Charley thanked the captain in the name of us all. Captain Roderick then told us to remain in the prison while he went on to the king and obtained our release in a formal manner; it would be better, he said, than running the risk of offending the king, who would probably be displeased should we walk out without his permission. We accordingly returned and sat ourselves down to wait the arrival of the pirate captain and the king's officers. Strange to say, all this time Captain Roderick had not recognised Harry, nor had he me as the clerk who had overheard the accusation brought against him by Captain Magor. Perhaps had he done so his conduct might have been different. We were all getting very hungry, having eaten nothing since noon the previous day; we were also becoming more and more impatient, when we heard footsteps approaching, and Captain Roderick, accompanied by the king himself and several of his attendants, opened the door. The king made a speech, intending, as we supposed, to apologise to us. He then led the way to another house, far superior to the hut we had occupied. It was clean and airy, with a veranda in front and a garden full of fruit trees and vegetables behind. Shortly afterwards an ample supply of all sorts of provisions was brought to us, and what we valued in no less degree, some huge bowls of water. I shall not forget in a hurry the satisfaction of washing, though we each of us had only a pocket handkerchief with which to dry ourselves, and that none of the cleanest. After breakfast, we summoned the slaves who had brought us the water to procure a further supply, in which we washed our under garments, hanging them up afterwards to dry in the garden. This they did in a very few minutes, for the sun in that latitude does its work with marvellous rapidity. In consequence of meeting with Captain Roderick we abandoned our idea of attempting to get off by stealth, thinking that it would be wiser to take our departure openly with the leave of the king. We had not been long in the house when Captain Roderick, accompanied as he always was by Growler, came to see us and advised that we should remain indoors. "I have a rival here in that ugly rascal Mundungo. He is jealous of the favour shown to me by the king, to whom I have recounted the true history of your capture, and I told his majesty that, instead of being taken after a tremendous fight, you were surprised and surrounded before you had time to defend yourselves. Mundungo has found that I have told the king the truth, and he is exceedingly indignant, although he is too much afraid of me to say anything. He will not, however, scruple to injure you if he has the opportunity." While he was speaking, Mundungo himself appeared, his countenance exhibiting the hatred which raged in his bosom. "Beware what you are about," he exclaimed. "You have attempted to malign me to the king. Remember I possess the most powerful fetish in the world." "A fig for your fetish!" exclaimed the captain, drawing his huge dagger. "I possess a more potent fetish than you do. Look at that, and then look at this animal. What do you think of him? In two minutes, if I were to tell him, he would tear you limb from limb, and your wretched fetish could not help you. Now go and talk to your silly countrymen about your fetish, but don't come and attempt to impose such nonsense on me," and the captain turned aside with a haughty air. Mundungo was defeated. Muttering and growling he walked away along the street towards his own residence. The captain set up a loud laugh in which we could not help joining, while Growler uttered one of his terrific barks, which made the brave general take to his heels and scamper away as hard as he could go. Captain Roderick again burst into a loud laugh. "I have settled the fellow for the present, but depend upon it, if he can he will do you and me harm, we must guard against that I have hitherto, since I came among these people, kept the upper hand, partly by my independent bearing, and partly owing to the fears they entertain of Growler; who, on several occasions, has given me timely warning when Mundungo and his supporters have attempted to murder me, which they have still a strong desire to do. Although I have obtained your liberty, I cannot answer for your safety. If they fail to shoot you with their arrows, or to spear you, they may try the effects of poison, and against that you must be specially on your guard. Fortunately, they are no great adepts in the art, but it will be safer to take only such food as it cannot be mixed with, such as eggs, birds, and plantains, and fruit, and joints of meat." We thanked Captain Roderick for his advice, which we promised to follow as long as we remained in the place. "But," continued Charley, "as you may suppose, we are very anxious to get away as soon as possible. We believe that if we could obtain a good-sized canoe, we could easily navigate her down the river." "You may depend upon it, gentlemen, that I will do what I can to persuade the king to allow you to go, and I have no wish to have any one interfering with my proceedings here, which you probably might be tempted to do were you to remain." "But we have no wish to interfere with you, Captain Roderick," said Charley; "we are grateful for the service you have already rendered us, and should be very glad if you would accompany us down the river, for I am very sure you will soon get tired of living among these savages." "I shall never return to civilised life, at all events in my own land," answered Captain Roderick gloomily. "Do not mention the subject to me again. I will help you more on my own account than on yours, for I would rather be alone with these black fellows than herding with white men. Let me advise you to remain in your house at present, until I have time to talk with the king, who is at present too drunk to understand me. I cannot promise that you will immediately obtain leave to go, or be furnished with a canoe for the purpose, but it will not be my fault if, in the meantime, you are not well treated." As we agreed that it would be wise to follow the pirate's advice, we re-entered our house, intending to remain there until summoned by him to pay our respects to the king, when his majesty had recovered sufficiently to give us an audience. Behind the house was a garden of sufficient size to enable us to enjoy some fresh air under the trees without the risk of being molested by the natives. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE KING PROPOSES TO SEND US OUT ON A HUNTING EXPEDITION--CAPTAIN RODERICK RECOGNISES HARRY AND ME IN OUR TRUE CHARACTERS--THE START FOR THE CHASE--A PLEASANT SURPRISE--WE MEET PRINCE KENDO WHO HAS COMMAND OF THE PARTY--A SUCCESSFUL DAY--CHARLEY AS A HUNTER--THE RETURN--CAPTAIN RODERICK'S MYSTERIOUS WARNING--HIS SORROW AT HIS OWN WASTED LIFE--THE LOSS OF GROWLER--ILLNESS OF THE QUEEN--THE WITCH-DOCTOR SENT FOR--WE ARE AGAIN FORCED TO GO HUNTING--STRANGE ARRIVAL IN CAMP OF THE TWO PIRATES-- A DANGEROUS MAN--MURDER OF CAPTAIN RODERICK--EFFECT OF HIS DEATH ON THE BLACKS--THE SOLITARY GRAVE--CONTINUATION OF THE HUNT--ENCOUNTER WITH A WILD MAN OF THE WOODS--RETURN TO THE VILLAGE WITH A QUANTITY OF GAME. We had now been six months in Africa, and, wonderful to relate, none of us had been ill or even hurt, with the exception of Tom. We, however, often felt sad, not on our own account, but on that of the loved ones at home, who, we knew, would be suffering intense anxiety about us, even if they did not suppose that we had lost our lives. As Tom remarked, we knew very well where we were and what we hoped to be able to do, but those at home knew nothing, but that ship after ship arrived and no tidings of us reached them. A thick, black wall, as it were, intervened between them and us, through which their loving eyes could not penetrate. How we longed for some bird of rapid wing to carry home a message for us. Captain Roderick did not come near us for the remainder of the day. The following morning, however, he appeared, saying that the king would not hear of our going away, as he wanted to employ us for elephant hunting, under the belief that with our rifles we should obtain a far greater number of tusks than could his own people. "You will be well-fed, and as the sport is highly exciting, I don't think you have any cause to complain," said the Captain. "That may depend upon circumstances," observed Charley. "When are we to set out?" "To-morrow, or perhaps the next day; as soon as the hunters are ready. They only returned from an expedition a few days ago and require time to rest." While the Captain was speaking, I saw him eyeing Harry and me in a far more searching manner than he had done before. Suddenly he asked me my name. I told him without hesitation,--indeed, I supposed all along that he must have known it. He then turned to Harry, and I saw his countenance change as Harry replied, "My name is Bracewell." The Captain started as Harry spoke, and as he looked at him a frown gathered on his brow. "I might have known you before, but your dress and sunburnt countenances deceived me. When I first saw you on board the `Arrow'--" "Captain Roderick, let bygones be bygones!" exclaimed Charley, who had heard from me all that had happened in England between Captain Roderick and my friend--"Do not let us refer to the past. Here we are, five Englishmen together among savages. If we quarrel our destruction is certain. We can help you and you can help us." The captain's features resumed their usual look, showing that he was somewhat moved by this address. "I have no quarrel with any of you, and have already shown you my readiness to render you assistance. I have told you that I will exert my influence with the king to procure your release, and I intend to keep my promise." Captain Roderick did not long remain with us; he went away, as he said, to have a talk with the king. "My idea is, that that fellow wants us to stop and hunt for him," observed Charley. "Depend upon it he would take possession of the tusks of the elephants we killed. It may be wise in us, however, to do so for the sake of procuring our liberty." "He has got a hand over us at present, and as we cannot help ourselves, we had better make the best of a bad job," observed Tom. Accordingly, the next morning, when we saw a number of people collecting in the square, armed for the chase, we agreed that, if invited, we would accompany them without showing any objection. We had just taken our breakfast, when we saw a young man approaching, who by the ornaments he wore on his arms and ankles, the chain round his neck, and the circlet of feathers on his head, we knew to be a person of consequence. "Why, I believe he's no other than the young fellow who married Miss Iguma," said Tom; "and if so, he ought to help us, for if it hadn't been for you, Mr Westerton, the young lady would have lost her life." Prince Kendo at once knew us, indeed, I suspect he was well aware of our being in the village, but had kept out of the way, supposing that we were enemies of Captain Roderick's, and not wishing to offend him. He now, however, came forward in a friendly manner, and invited us to accompany him on the hunting expedition of which he was to be the leader. As agreed, we accepted it and joined his party of about fifty men. Soon after leaving the village a couple of hundred more, coming from various quarters, united with us, until we formed quite a little army. We marched along for a whole day, however, without seeing any elephants, although we came upon smaller game, of which, for the sake of the meat, we killed several. Charley was fortunate enough to knock over a buffalo, and Harry and I each killed a deer. Tom shot two hogs-- curious-looking creatures, the most active of the pig species. Those which made their escape leapt over the trunks of trees several feet high, and a stream five or six yards broad. They were enormous creatures, having red bodies and white faces, on which were several lumps between the nose and the eyes, which latter were surrounded by long bristles, while their ears were exceedingly long, having at their tips tufts of coarse hair. We knocked over several monkeys, and a huge ape, just as it was about to strike a man who had approached and had had his spear snatched out of his hand. Prince Kendo complimented us, and evidently looked upon us as great hunters. After encamping for the night, as was usual, we again set out, and just as we reached the edge of the forest, beyond which was a plain, we caught sight of a huge elephant standing by himself, while he kept flapping his ears and whisking round his tail. As we watched him the trees around him looked like mere shrubs, so vast was his size. Charley insisted on shooting him. Kendo, as he looked at the animal, whispered that he was afraid that he would make for the open plain should his own men attempt to kill him. On this Charley volunteered to shoot the huge creature. I felt very anxious about it, but he said that he was confident, unless his rifle failed him, that he should kill the beast. Having ascertained the way the wind was blowing, we made a slight round so as to get to leeward. We got behind some trees, while Charley, imitating the native way of approaching the enormous creatures, stooped down among the grass, and began to creep up slowly towards the elephant, keeping himself entirely concealed, while only occasionally could we get a glimpse of him to assure us that he was moving on. I regretted that I had not insisted on accompanying him, to fire in case he should miss, though he himself had no apprehensions on that score. For several minutes we could perceive no motion in the long grass. Not a word was spoken. No sound came from any part of the forest, except that we fancied we could hear the flapping of the elephant's ears. For a few seconds even that ceased, and then there came a sharp report, ringing through the forest and across the plain. I dashed forward and saw the elephant raise its trunk in the air, and move on as if about to destroy its enemy, but the instant afterwards the trunk dropped, the huge animal staggered, and down it came with a crash on the shrubs and rotten wood beneath the trees. Charley started up scarcely three yards from where the creature fell. Numbers of monkeys and birds shrieking and screaming clambered chattering away amid the branches, or flew off across the plain at the report of Charley's rifle, while the blacks came rushing forward, shouting and congratulating him and us on the success of his shot. Never had they seen an animal brought down so suddenly. This was the first elephant we had killed on the expedition. Charley killed two others from the ground, while Harry and I each shot one while we were perched on a tree, a far safer, if not so honourable a position. All the natives together had, in the meantime, only killed three, by piercing them with their spears, and they had lost two men crushed by the monsters' feet. Altogether, Kendo acknowledged that it was the most successful hunting expedition he had ever engaged in, while our success raised us greatly in the estimation of the blacks, but also made them more anxious than ever to retain us. We were well aware of this, and came to the conclusion that if we were to get away, it must be by stealth, as we had escaped from the other savages. On approaching the village, we were met by some women howling and wailing, and on inquiring the reason, we were informed that queen Hugga Mugga, the favourite wife of the king, was desperately ill, and had been bewitched, and that the king had sent for a learned sorcerer to discover the guilty persons. On inquiring for Captain Roderick we found also that he, during our absence, had been away. We saw him, however, coming along the street. Charley and I went out to meet him, advising Harry to keep in the house. He appeared to be in a very different humour to that in which we had before seen him. He appeared greatly out of spirits. Seating himself in our veranda, without attempting to enter the house, he turned to Charley. "You have been more successful even than I expected," he said, "and I have to compliment you on your skilful hunting. You might remain out here and make your fortunes in a very short time, but I suspect that your lives would not be safe in this place. You have already excited the jealousy and hatred of Mundungo, and he is, I have discovered, a friend or relative of the fetish doctor who has been sent for, and will probably accuse you of causing, by your incantations, the illness of Kickubaroo's wife. Come here," and he approached a palm tree which grew on one side of the house, from which he cut a long branch. "If I ascertain that you are in danger, I will find means to send you a similar branch to this, in the basket with your provisions, in which case do not leave the house until nightfall, then, as soon as the people have gone to their houses, and are asleep, make your way directly to the bank of the river, where I will cause two canoes to be prepared with paddles and food in them. Embark at once, and make your way down the stream. You must not ask why I did not long ago follow the course I advise you to take." I was struck by the man's melancholy countenance and the mournful tone in which he spoke, so different to his usual overbearing confident language. Charley and I expressed our thanks, feeling more pity for him than we had ever done before. Keeping the palm branch in his hand, he resumed his seat in the veranda, then turning to me he said-- "If you ever reach home, tell my brother that you met me, and that I asked his forgiveness for my conduct towards him. I do not suppose that he will withhold it, when he knows that I intend never again to resume my former mode of life. I wish I could feel as certain that all my sins are forgiven." I pointed out to him the only way by which man's sins can be forgiven. He turned his head from me, and said abruptly to Charley-- "You must be surprised at the change you perceive has come over me." "For some reasons I am glad of it," answered Charley, "although I hope it is not because you feel yourself suffering from illness." "No," answered Captain Roderick, "I am as well as ever, still I believe that my days are numbered. My enemies here have succeeded in destroying my faithful dog Growler. While you were away I missed him while out shooting, and after some time he crawled back to me with a poisoned arrow sticking in his ribs. I drew it out, hoping that the flow of blood would prevent the poison taking effect. In less than ten minutes he was seized with violent convulsions, between the paroxysms of which he endeavoured to lick my hand, and gasped out his last breath in the attempt. He was the only friend I ever had in the world in whom I could truly trust." After sitting some time, Captain Roderick took up his gun and hat, which he had placed by his side while enjoying the shade of the veranda, and proceeded towards the house he inhabited, close to that occupied by the king. Going in we told Harry what Captain Roderick had said. "He exhibits very little true remorse and sorrow for his misdeeds," said Harry; "like many men with fierce, ill-regulated minds, he is overcome with superstitious fears, and probably his present temper will not last very long. I only hope he will give us warning in due time, and enable us to make our escape, we shall then have good reason to thank him." We were now expecting the arrival of the witch-doctor, who, however, we discovered lived at a considerable distance, and might not make his appearance for two or three days. We scarcely supposed, however, that he would accuse us of bewitching the queen. We felt, indeed, rather a curiosity to see how he would proceed, than any fear of bad consequences to ourselves. Soon after Captain Roderick's visit, Prince Kendo appeared, and invited us to accompany him that evening on another shooting expedition. Some elephants, he said, had been seen a short distance off up the river, and as there was plenty of the food they liked thereabouts they would not probably have gone away. As we were glad of something to do, we accepted the offer, and all four of us, with Aboh and Shimbo, set out with the party the prince had already collected, and who were waiting at the outskirts of the village. It was too dark, however, by the time we reached the part of the forest where the elephants had been seen to go in search of them. We therefore encamped, and lighted a fire to cook the provisions we had brought with us. Soon after we had begun supper, two figures appeared from amidst the brushwood surrounding the open spot we had selected for our camp. The gleam of the fire fell upon them. We saw by their dress and faces that they were white men. Their haggard countenances showed that they were suffering from hunger. Tom Tubbs, who had started to his feet, advanced a few paces towards them-- "Why, as I live," he exclaimed, "I think I know you fellows." "Like enough you do, mate," answered one of the men, "like enough you do, but before you have any palaver, just hand us out some of that grub, and a drink of water or anything stronger if you've got it, for we are well-nigh famished." "So you look," said Tom; "sit down, the gentlemen here will be glad enough to share their provisions with you, so will this nigger prince, and after that we will hear what you have got to tell about yourselves." The men without uttering another word sat down close to the fire, and eagerly seizing the food we offered them, began munching away in a style which fully confirmed the account they had given of their famished state. Looking at their countenances more narrowly, I at once recognised the two seamen, Caspar Caper and Herman Jansen, who had escaped during the massacre of the Frenchmen. The two men exhibited a marked contrast, and it seemed surprising that they should have associated together. Caspar seemed a good-natured, honest fellow, and as soon as he had satisfied his hunger, he began to laugh and joke with Tom, and to describe the adventures they had gone through, while Jansen sat moody and silent, a frown on his brow, and his looks averted from us. Even when Tom spoke to him he answered only in monosyllables, or did not answer at all, holding out the gourd which had been given him for a further supply of palm-wine. "I shouldn't like to meet that fellow by myself were I unarmed in a dark place, he looks as if he would attempt to kill a man merely for the satisfaction of committing murder," whispered Charley to me; "I wonder he has not before now shot his companion, and I suspect that only the desire of self-preservation has restrained him." I fully agreed with my brother, and we settled that we would not allow him to associate with us more than we could help. At present common humanity demanded that we should give him food, and such protection as we might be able to afford against the savages. After eating and drinking as much as he required, he got up and strolled away from the camp towards the lake, the shore of which was at no great distance. We now spoke more freely about him. Harry suggested that hunger and privation had given him the expression we remarked in his features, and that he might notwithstanding be a useful addition to our party, and assist us, should we make our escape, in navigating our canoe down the river. "What's the matter with your friend?" I asked, turning to Caspar. "He's in one of his sulks," was the answer; "he is often like that, and I have been in fear of my life over and over again, but I have kept an eye upon him, and generally managed to get hold of his long sheath knife, and to hide it until he got better again. Lately he has become worse, and I would have left him had I been able to do so. My idea is, that he'll do some harm to himself, or he will try to kill some one else, and if he had a gun I should not think any one of us was safe sitting down here." "Should there be a chance of his injuring himself, it is our duty to try and prevent him," observed Harry, "we must deprive him of his weapon, and watch him narrowly. Perhaps after he has been well-fed for a few days he may recover his temper. I think it would be as well now to go and watch him, and see that he doesn't throw himself into the lake." I agreed with Harry, and both getting up accompanied by Caspar, we walked on in the direction Jansen had taken. The moon which had just risen, afforded us light sufficient to make our way through the forest, which was here not so thick as in most places. We had gone some little way, when we reached an open spot or glade close to the lake. "Stop here," said Caspar, "I think I see him coming along, it is as well he should not discover us." We concealed ourselves behind some bushes. We could hear approaching footsteps, and thought that Jansen, having gone on some way, had turned back and intended to rejoin us at the camp. Just then I saw that the figure of the person approaching was not that of Herman Jansen, but of Captain Roderick. I concluded that he had followed us intending to treat with Prince Kendo for the ivory we had procured, or else that he had come to warn us of some danger to which we might be exposed, should we return to the village. I was on the point of stepping out of our place of concealment to go and meet him, when another person sprang up from behind a bank where he had been concealed, with a large knife in his hand, and before I could cry out to warn the captain, the other had plunged the weapon into his breast. With one piercing cry Captain Roderick fell back, while his assailant having driven the weapon home, left it sticking in the wound, and with a howl like a wild beast plunged into the forest, which immediately hid him from our sight. We all hurried forward, eager to give assistance to the wounded man; Caspar drew out the knife. "Yes," he said, "this was Jansen's, he had vowed vengeance against the captain, and we had good reason to hate him, but this is a foul cowardly deed notwithstanding." Harry and I meantime lifted up the wounded man; his arms dropped downwards, not a groan, not a breath escaped him, his eyes were fixed and staring in death. The weapon had struck too deeply home for human power to save him. His spirit had fled. We notwithstanding sent Caspar back to obtain assistance, that we might carry the body to the camp. In a short time Caspar returned with Charley and Tom and several blacks. A litter was formed, and we conveyed him to the camp. Though we had every reason to dislike the man who had been the cause of all the hardships and sufferings we were enduring, yet we felt no animosity towards him, and were horror-struck at his appalling death. Prince Kendo expressed his astonishment at the captain's death. What he said was to the effect that he thought that no human power could injure him, "but I now see that white men can die like black men," he observed with a peculiar expression which made us feel that it would be dangerous to offend the black Prince. "But it was a white man that killed him, remember that," said Tom, "the black fellows, from what I hear, tried it very often but could not succeed." "Yes, that was the case, but he had a friendly spirit always by to protect him, but that got killed at last, and so you see his power departed from him." The prince alluded to Growler, whose death we thus discovered was well known, although Captain Roderick had endeavoured to conceal the fact. "The sooner we bury the poor fellow the better," observed Charley. "While he is in their sight the blacks will be thinking about him, and being reminded how easily a white man is killed, they may take it into their heads to try and put us out of the way, and possess themselves of our guns and the contents of our knapsacks." We accordingly asked Kendo to allow some of his people to assist us in digging a grave. Though they at first showed some indications of fear, yet on Tom suggesting that the spirit of the dead man would haunt them if they did not, they eagerly set about the work, and saved us any trouble whatever. At first they made only a shallow hole, but Tom told them that that would never do, that it was necessary to bury a white man very far down in the earth, as they had such potent spirits that they would otherwise quickly force their way up again. On this they eagerly recommenced their labours, and managed to dig a grave six feet deep. We were going to put the body into it, when Tom advised that we should examine his pockets, and take possession of any documents or valuables he might have about him. We found nothing, however, except some ammunition, a knife, and a tinder-box. Not a line or document of any sort to prove his identity. Had we not witnessed his death, or discovered his body, no one would have known how he met with his untimely end. Like many another evil-doer, he would have disappeared from the face of the earth and left no trace behind him. At a late hour we lay down to rest. By Harry's advice, however, one of us kept awake lest the blacks should attempt to play us any trick, or, as was very likely, lest they should all go to sleep, and a leopard steal into the camp and carry some one of us off, or a troop of elephants come rushing along and trample us under foot. Next morning, although we were very unwilling to continue the hunt, judging it safer to get back to the village and attempt to make our escape without delay, Prince Kendo insisted that we should remain, promising that we should have a share of the tusks of any elephants we might kill. We thought it wise to make a virtue of necessity, but determined, should we find a canoe on the banks of the river, to appropriate it, and without taking leave to make our way down the stream. We had not gone far when our ears were saluted by a terrific roar which seemed to come from the depths of the forest. My companions looked at each other, wondering what animal could produce the sound. Roar succeeded roar, and I guessed it must come from one of the big man apes which I had before encountered. Charley and Harry, upon my telling them, were both eager to see the creature, and keeping our guns in readiness we approached the spot whence the fearful sounds proceeded. The roars were accompanied by a loud drumming noise, followed by a fierce bark-like yelp, which, as Harry observed, sounded like the horrible ravings of a madman. Kendo and several of the other blacks accompanied us, but kept well in our rear, ready to take to flight should we fail to kill the beast. "There he is," exclaimed Charley, "let one fire at a time. Dick, you fire first, if you miss I'll have a shot at him, and if I miss, Tom, you must take the next shot, and you, Harry, must be in reserve. Remember that our lives will depend upon the steadiness of your aim." These arrangements had just been made when the boughs were put aside by a pair of long arms, and the next instant a huge hairy creature, with a hideous countenance, appeared in sight, advancing slowly into the open; I could distinguish its fierce eyes glowing at us, the face black and wrinkled, and distorted with rage, as it came forward balancing its monstrous body with its long arms, while at every few seconds it stopped and beat its breast, at the same time throwing back its head to give utterance to one of its tremendous roars. We might have been excused had we really taken it for a forest demon, for nothing which the imagination of man has pictured could be more calculated to inspire its beholders with awe. The natives ceased their chattering and drew back. The creature still advanced, but every now and then stopped to sit down and roar. One circumstance, however, showed that its power was limited. Its legs were short and slight, and unable firmly to sustain its huge body, they tottered beneath its weight. While it hobbled forward it had a somewhat ridiculous appearance, which made Tom burst into a loud laugh. This seemed to increase the creature's rage; unable to spring forward, it sat down and began to roar and beat its breast. Once more it rose with the aid of its long arms, and advanced. I waited until it was about ten yards off, when I fired, half expecting, however, to see the animal when the smoke cleared off still coming towards us. I was prepared to spring back to let Charley fire, when throwing up its arms down it came with a crash to the ground. The blacks set up a shout of triumph. "Take care, sirs, a bite from those big teeth would not be pleasant," exclaimed Tom, as he saw Harry and me rushing forward. The creature, however, made no movement, and the blacks coming up, turned it over without ceremony and thrust the end of their spears into its eyes to show that it was dead. They then began singing and dancing around it in triumph, as they would round the body of a dead human enemy, indeed, even now I could scarcely persuade myself that the creature had not something human in it. It was not until very many years afterwards that I ascertained that this man ape, as I have called it, was what is now known as the gorilla. When I afterwards described it in England, no one would believe that it was of the size I have mentioned, and I got credit for indulging in travellers' tales. The natives at once skinned the beast and then cut the body into pieces, which they afterwards cooked and ate with great gusto. None of us, however, could persuade ourselves to touch it. We later in the day killed three elephants, much in the way I have before described, and early next morning our party, carrying the skin of the ape and the elephants' tusks, with large quantities of meat, returned to the village. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. OUR AUDIENCE WITH THE KING--THE FALL OF A COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF-- UNSATISFACTORY TERMINATION OF OUR INTERVIEW--IN DESPAIR WE WANDER ALONG THE RIVER BANK--PLANS FOR ESCAPE--MAKING PADDLES--KENDO'S WIFE IGUMA UNDERTAKES TO ASSIST US--ARRIVAL OF THE FETISH DOCTOR--HE HAS RECOURSE TO THE "BLACK ART OF MAGIC," AND DENOUNCES SHIMBO, IGUMA, AND OTHERS, AS THE CAUSE OF THE QUEEN'S DEATH--CRUEL SACRIFICE OF SHIMBO--FLIGHT OF IGUMA AND HER HUSBAND, WITH WHOM WE EFFECT OUR ESCAPE--ON THE LAKE-- CHARLEY AND I MISS OUR COMPANIONS IN THE DARKNESS--ON DAYLIGHT RETURNING WE FIND OURSELVES NEAR THE SHORE--WE ARE SURPRISED BY NATIVES AND ATTACKED--REPULSE OF THE ENEMY--BRAVERY OF IGUMA. In the course of the morning we reached our house, which we had left in charge of Shimbo. We had the satisfaction of finding that none of our knapsacks had been touched. We invited Caspar to join us, which he, poor fellow, was very glad to do. Nothing had been seen of Jansen; we supposed that he had either thrown himself into the river, or been seized by a wild beast. We were surprised to find that the witch-doctor had not yet arrived, and therefore hoped that something had detained him, and that by his not coming the people whom he would accuse of witchcraft, should he appear, might escape death. We thought that the king might possibly not have heard of the death of Captain Roderick, and after duly discussing the subject, we came to the conclusion that it would be wise while the king was still impressed with the belief of his almost superhuman powers, to request leave to proceed on our journey. As it was still early in the day, we hoped to find his majesty tolerably sober, and capable of listening to reason. We accordingly issued forth from our house with our knapsacks on our shoulders, and our guns in our hands, Harry and Aboh ready to act as spokesmen, Charley and I coming next, and Tom and Caspar with Shimbo bringing up the rear. We found the king seated in a sort of broad veranda in front of his house, which served him as an audience chamber. On one side was his fetish or idol house. At the further end was a huge hideous figure painted in various colours; with big goggle eyes, and clothed in robes of matting, and adorned with feathers of various hues. Numerous other idols were placed against the walls, most of them bearing but the very faintest resemblance to human figures--big round eyes, and marks for noses, and grinning mouths, with teeth set in them, showing for what they were intended. The king, with his round hat on his head, and his red uniform coat covering his royal body, was seated on a pile of mats with a bottle by his side, while one or two empty ones lay outside on the floor, showing how he had already been spending his morning. Several of his counsellors and other chief men sat at a little distance on either side of him, discussing, apparently, affairs of state. We waited until there seemed to be a pause, when we advanced in a bold manner, and Harry began an address, thanking the king for the hospitality he had shown us, and the opportunities we had enjoyed of seeing some sport, and adding "that now, having done all the service we could, we were desirous of going down the river, as we were anxious to get on board one of the ships of our country, which we expected to find at the mouth of the stream." The king rolled his eyes round as Harry spoke, apparently not understanding a word; he then turned to his courtiers, desiring them to explain what the white man said. This was more than even the most learned of his attendants could do, for, although they were more sober than their master, they also had had a pull at the bottles. Fortunately the king did not appeal to us, but again and again asked them what we had said. At length starting up he called them all by the most opprobrious names, insisting that they should interpret, then seizing a cane, which he probably thought was a sword, he ordered them to go about their business, bestowing a kick on the rear of first one, and then on another, sending them all flying away from him, the commander-in-chief, who maintained his post to the last, receiving a blow from the monarch's foot as he endeavoured to leap down the steps, which sent him flying away some fifty yards, when down he sprawled with his nose in the dust, kicking up his heels in the air. The king having accomplished this feat, no longer able to stand, rolled back in his seat, where he continued kicking out with his legs, shaking his hands, and blubbering away, exclaiming, "that he could get no wisdom out of his counsellors, who were a useless, lazy set." He then looking up, inquired in husky tones, "What we wanted?" Harry once more endeavoured to explain our object in coming, but all his efforts were vain to make the king comprehend a word he said. Aboh then tried, with the same want of success. The king, who in the meantime had taken a pull at another bottle, evidently felt no inclination to rise, and comforted himself by showering abuse on Aboh's head and ours, bestowing upon him all sorts of opprobrious epithets. At last, as it was very evident that we could get nothing out of the monarch, we beat a retreat in as dignified a manner as possible, and retired to our house, more resolved than ever to take French leave before many days were over, should we have the opportunity. The king's attendants wisely kept out of his way when he was in his drunken fits, and shut themselves up in their houses, or left the village, lest he might take a fancy to cut off any of their heads. We, finding the road open to the river, determined to make an excursion along the banks in the hope of discovering some canoes fit for our purpose. Keeping our guns ready for action, we sauntered along near the river, though we pretended to take that road merely for the sake of the fresh breeze which blew off the water. We spied four or five canoes; in none of them, however, could we see paddles, and without some such means of propulsion they would be useless. How to procure the paddles was the difficulty. They were probably in the houses of the owners, and it was a question whether these owners would part with the paddles, and whether it would be safe to enter into a bargain with them, lest they should betray us to the king. "To my mind, the best thing we can do, sir, is to make some paddles for ourselves," observed Tom Tubbs. "Of course," answered Charley; "we can work away as soon as it is dark, and have them ready by to-morrow night. Longer than that we must not stay in this horrible place, we shall have wood enough for our purpose in the building, by pulling down part of the rear of our house, where it won't be missed, or from the trees in our garden, or part of the fencing. We should have a paddle for each person, as we shall require two or three canoes to convey all our party." This matter settled, we were about to return, when we saw a female at the door of one of the largest houses near the water, at the end of the village which we had just reached. She appeared to be beckoning to us; we went forward, and great was our surprise to find that she was no other than Iguma, the young lady I had saved from the ape, and whose marriage with Prince Kendo I had afterwards witnessed. Feeling sure that gratitude would animate a female bosom, I asked Harry to tell her the difficulty in which we were placed, and, throwing ourselves on her generosity, entreat her to assist us in escaping. She seemed much pleased at seeing us, and at once recognised me, and said she had not forgotten the service I had done her. We then informed her how we were situated. She at once said she would do all she could to help us, but that her power, she was afraid, was very limited. She complained that her husband was constantly away on shooting expeditions, and that she held his drunken uncle, King Kickubaroo, in great awe, and that he evidently had no affection for her. She told us that we need have no fear about canoes, as her husband had three or four which were hauled up on the bank inside a yard, close to which we then were, and that by climbing over the fence we should find them at any time ready for use. As to paddles, she acknowledged that they were generally kept shut up in the house, to prevent the canoes being taken away, but that she would try and place them on board the following evening as soon it was dark. Thus all was quickly arranged for our attempt to escape. As soon as we got back to our house we looked about for wood suitable to form paddles, not wishing to trust entirely to those with which Iguma might supply us. We had no difficulty in finding an ample supply of material for our purpose, although we thought it prudent not to begin working it up until darkness should prevent the risk of what we were about being discovered. We were thus employed when we heard a tremendous noise proceeding from the house in which the king's wife lay sick. On looking out we saw it surrounded by people, who were singing, and shouting, and shrieking, and dancing, with all their might; some beating tom-toms and drums; others blowing horns and shaking rattles, all uniting in a hideous chorus. The object of this, Aboh told us, was to drive out the evil spirit which was making the queen ill. "It was a signal," he said, "that the fetish doctor, who had been so long coming, was about to arrive, and that his canoe was probably seen descending the river." As we thought it prudent to keep out of the way of the people, we remained in the house, although we would very gladly have got to a distance to escape from the uproar. We had cooked our dinner and were eating it, when Aboh, who had been to the door, came back and told us that the doctor had arrived, and was beginning his incantations. As we were curious to see what he was about, we went a short distance from the house, where, remaining concealed behind a fence, we could observe what was going forward without ourselves being seen. The doctor had dressed himself up to look as hideous as possible. On his head he wore a huge and lofty plume of black feathers drooping down on all sides; his face was painted white, with red stripes over his eyes, and others in different parts of his face. A case was suspended by a piece of rope round his neck, which was also adorned by a necklace of human bones, while a girdle of a similar description was fastened round his waist, to which was suspended a sort of apron. He had taken his seat on a stool, round which were hides and the horns of several animals, a leopard's skin, and more cases containing charms. In one hand he held a rattle, and in the other a wand. Near him stood two attendants, one beating a small drum, and the other a couple of sticks. For sometime he continued uttering all sorts of gibberish, which I do not think was intelligible to any even of his hearers, while his attendants played on their instruments--if playing it could be called. He then took up a horn, from which he shook a quantity of black powder in the air, and regarded it gravely as it fell. It was sad to think that human beings could be deceived by so gross an imposture, but yet it was very evident that all the people present watched the proceedings with the utmost awe and respect. After a dead silence the people again shouted out, though what they said it was impossible to understand, but I shall never forget the alarmed looks Aboh and Shimbo exchanged. At length the shouting ceased, when the doctor began to shriek, making his voice sound like the croaking of a whole flock of birds of prey about to descend on a dead carcase. Then he stopped, and slowly pronounced several names. If ever black man turned white, Aboh and Shimbo did on that occasion. Poor fellows, they understood the meaning of what was said better than we did. Again the people shouted and shrieked in the most savage manner, indeed, no words can describe the hideous noise they made. "Go back to the house, go back," cried Aboh. We followed his advice, but ere we could reach our dwelling the crowd had rushed towards us. Unfortunately we had come out without our arms. The infuriated blacks did not attempt to touch us, but before we could prevent it, they had seized Shimbo and dragged him off, although we succeeded, by knocking down with our fists those who came near us, in hauling Aboh into the house. We at once shut the door, seized our rifles, and stood prepared for a desperate resistance. Contrary to our expectations, the mob, having got possession of one of our followers, retreated with him up the street. Scarcely had they gone than we heard a knocking at the door, and finding that there was only one person present we opened it, and Prince Kendo entered. "Ah, white men, save my wife," he exclaimed, "the doctor has accused her of bewitching the queen, and should her majesty die, nothing will save my poor Iguma, her head will to a certainty be cut off." We all at once exclaimed that we would endeavour to save her, if he could point out the best way we could do so. "Shall we go to the king and ask her life?" Aboh shook his head, and declared that it would be utterly useless. "The king was bound to kill her with his own hand if the doctor accused her of causing the queen's death." "The queen is not dead yet," said Harry. "No, but she may die to-night, for she is much worse than she has been before, and frightened out of her wits by the noise the people make." "Then what do you propose we should do?" said Harry. "Carry her away. You intend going yourselves, I will go too, I should like to see your country and the wonderful things it contains, and I had made up my mind to propose going, even if this had not happened. I should like to take my wife with me, for whatever you may think, I love her dearly." On hearing this, we resolved at once to put our long projected plan into execution. Kendo's assistance would be of great value, as he had canoes at hand, and could aid us in getting away. We advised Kendo to go back and hide his wife, should he not have the means of protecting her, lest the people might come and seize her at once, and we promised to be at the house or at any spot he might appoint as soon as possible after dark. He stopped for a moment to consider. "Come to my house," he answered, "the canoes will be ready, and so will Iguma; but be prepared to fight, for if the people come and find out that we are going to carry her off, they will try to prevent it. Better fight than lose Iguma." We of course promised, unless prevented by any unforeseen occurrence, that we would do as he proposed, feeling confident that we could trust to his honesty, and that he had a real desire to save his wife from the horrible fate which threatened her. We had not in the meantime forgotten poor Shimbo. Aboh constantly cried out-- "Oh! my brodder, my brodder." "I say, it would be a great shame to allow these murderous scoundrels to put the poor fellow to death," exclaimed Charley. "If the old woman dies they'll make short work of him; I propose that we set off and claim him as our servant, threatening them with the vengeance of England should a shock of his woolly pate be injured." Aboh, who understood what was said, cried out, "Tankee, massa, tankee, no let my brodder die." We scarcely needed this appeal from the faithful Aboh to run every risk for the sake of rescuing his brother. "Never fear, we will do what we can to save him," said Charley, "but do you remain in the house, lest that abominable juggler takes it into his wicked head to accuse you as well as your brother." Aboh was very thankful to follow this advice, indeed, he was scarcely fit to accompany us, so overcome was he by the fears of death for himself and his brother, increased by the superstitious dread he had of the doctor. Shouldering our arms, with our knapsacks on our backs, we left the house, closing the door behind us, and marched boldly towards the fetish house, a sort of temple situated near the residence of the king. The number of people collected round it showed that something was going forward. At the further end of the structure--a sort of temple composed of rough timber with a thatched roof--was a hideous idol standing in a shrine raised on an altar, for such it resembled, possibly imitated from the Portuguese who once held sway in the land, and established for a short period what they called Christianity, although it was in reality an idolatrous system, scarcely superior in the effect it produced on the moral and religious sentiments of the people to that which it displaced. This Christianity, however, such as it was, had long ago been overthrown, and only such slight traces as I now observed remained. I may here remark, that wherever the Spaniards and Portuguese have established their religion, the people have invariably sunk back again into the barbarism and gross idolatry of their original state, indeed, it might be safe to say that they were never really raised out of idolatry. On getting nearer we saw that the king was standing in front of the temple, with a drawn scimitar of enormous size in his hand. We were hurrying forward, when the starling cry arose. "The queen is dead, the queen is dead!" The multitude immediately uttered the most piercing shrieks and lamentations. Directly afterwards we caught sight of the hideous doctor, or priest, urging on a party who were dragging forward a person between them. We did not at first see the features of the latter, and it was not until he had been hauled up on the platform, where the king was standing, that we discovered him to be our friend Shimbo. His hands were tied behind his back, so that he was unable to make any movement with them. He cast an imploring look around him, for he knew but too well why he was brought there. Harry on seeing him shouted out to the king: "Let that man go, he is our servant." But the king, taking no notice of what was said, flourished his long sword. The multitude shouted and howled, the weapon flashed in the sunlight, and the next instant Shimbo fell, and his head rolled along the floor of the temple. The maddened cries of the superstitious mob on this grew louder, and many of the elders and chiefs of the people, rushing forward, bowed themselves before the king. We were horror-struck at what we had seen, and we had also reason to fear, from the savage looks that the people cast at us, that we ourselves were in no slight danger. The juggler might at any moment accuse us of sorcery, and, in the excited state of mind in which the people surrounding us then were, they might set upon us, and in spite of the resistance we might make, tear us limb from limb. Fortunately for us, the names of three other persons were shouted out as having taken part in the enchantment which had destroyed the queen. As the mob were occupied with them, we beat a retreat in a dignified war to our house. Without telling Aboh what had happened, we placed him in our midst, and avoiding the excited multitude, made our way down to the river. If we were to save Iguma, we must carry her off at once without waiting for the night, for the instant the priest had pronounced her name, the crowd, in overwhelming numbers, would rush to her house to seize her, and even Kendo himself would be utterly unable to afford her protection. All this time we knew by the hideous din that the cruel executions were going forward. As long as the people were thus engaged we might be unmolested, but should a new victim be required, they would at once come rushing towards the house of the prince. We dreaded every instant to hear their voices approaching. We had already reached the bank of the river, but could find no canoes fit for our purpose. The prince's house was, I should have said, some way along the bank. We hurried towards it. As we got near Kendo himself sprang out to meet us. "My wife is in the canoe," he exclaimed, "quick, quick!" There was good reason for our hastening, for after a few minutes' cessation of the uproar, the din from the vast multitude again burst forth. Kendo was certain that they were coming towards us. Not a moment was to be lost. Several canoes were on the bank, one was already in the water smaller than the others. Kendo pointed it out to Charley and me, and entreated us to jump in, observing as he did so: "Wife dare." We thought that he was about to follow, but instead of doing so, he gave the canoe a shove off with all his might into the middle of the stream, and then assisted Harry and the rest to launch another. As soon as we found ourselves adrift, we each took a paddle and made down with the current. If we were to save Iguma's life, we had no time to spare. Already we could see a mass of black forms coming rushing frantically towards the river flourishing their weapons, while the air was filled with the cries they uttered. Two other canoes contained the remainder of our party, Kendo being accompanied by a single faithful attendant who had acted as his henchman and companion on all our hunting expeditions. Just as they were on the point of shoving off, a white man appeared on the bank, and without apparently even asking permission, leapt into one of the canoes. Instantly she shoved off and came paddling after us. Kendo shouted to us to go on and not stop for anything; a piece of advice we saw the wisdom of following. As Iguma was the chief object of the savages pursuit, it was of the greatest importance to get her beyond their reach. She lay all this time, I should have said, at the bottom of the boat, covered up with a piece of matting, but she uttered no expressions of terror now that she thought she was safe. Had we delayed another minute, not only would Iguma have been captured, but we should ourselves very likely have lost our lives. Scarcely had the other canoe got away from the shore, than a vast multitude of infuriated natives, uttering the most fearful yells, appeared on the banks. We naturally expected to be immediately followed, but, as we looked astern, we saw no canoes being launched. We were not aware at the time that Kendo had thoughtfully concealed all the paddles, or had so injured the canoes that they were unfit to put off. "Paddle on, paddle on," he kept shouting to us, and we were, as may be imagined, well disposed to follow his advice. We wished, however, that he had come with us, both to act as pilot and to assist in the defence of his wife, for he was a brave fellow, and would certainly have fought to the last. Though it was still daylight, evening was approaching. We hoped during the darkness to get far beyond the pursuit of the savages, who would, we felt sure, endeavour to obtain possession of Iguma, and to wreak their vengeance on our heads for attempting to carry her off. Had the course of the river been straight, there would have been no doubt about our ultimate escape, but it made numerous bends, sometimes running to the north, then to the south, then again to the west, so that it would be a long time before we could get out of the territory owned by King Kickubaroo. Now and then also the river was very broad, extending almost into a lake. This under some, circumstances might be to our advantage, but during the night we ran the risk of losing our way, for though Charley still had in his possession the pocket compass, it was so dark that we could not see it, and we did not venture to strike a light. Charley and I, however, paddled along with all our might, hoping that even should our savage pursuers again catch sight of us, they would be still unable to procure canoes in which to follow us. The night was unusually dark, and by Charley's advice we all kept silence, that our voices might not betray our position, should there be any of the enemy near us. Although our canoe was somewhat smaller than the others, yet as they were more heavily laden, we managed to keep ahead. We must have paddled on for a couple of hours or so, when we found ourselves on a broad lake. A thick mist obscured the sky, so that not a star was twinkling overhead to guide us, and we were only able to steer by ascertaining in which direction the current was running. The darkness was so great that we could not even see the other canoes, and we were afraid, for the reason I have before mentioned, of shouting to attract their notice. We thought that unless we paddled on we should be overtaken by daylight. At length, however, my strength began to fail, my arms ached, though by this time I was pretty well used to bodily exertion. Charley continued working away without uttering a word, and sometimes I wished that he would speak, for the silence oppressed me; Iguma lay perfectly still in the bottom of the canoe; it was evident she fully comprehended the danger we were in. On we went, hour after hour passed by. Daylight broke sooner than I had expected, and yet it seemed that we had been in the canoe a long time. A mist hung over the water shrouding all objects, so that we were unable to see the land, or discover which bank we were nearest. Though we listened attentively, we could not hear the slightest splash of paddles to indicate the whereabouts of our friends. We were afraid that something had happened to them, either that they had been overtaken, or that the canoes had run on snags. We said nothing to Iguma, however, lest we should alarm her, but it was absolutely necessary that we should rest our arms and take some food, of which we had brought a supply in our knapsacks, some also had been put in the canoe. Not knowing how far off the shore we were, we allowed the canoe to drift down, while we took in our paddles and got out our provisions. We invited Iguma to take some breakfast; she, pointing to some plantains and roast yams, signified that they would satisfy her hunger. "Come, I think we ought to take to our paddles again," said Charley, when we had finished our meal. "How do your arms feel, Dick?" "Ready for work, though I should be glad to give them a few hours' rest," I answered--"but softly, where are we?" As I spoke, I found that the canoe had drifted in among some tall reeds, which showed that we were nearer the shore than we expected. While we were attempting to paddle out from among them, a breeze blew the mist away, and what was our astonishment, not to say dismay, to see a number of blacks standing on the banks and regarding us attentively. They had probably heard us talking and making a splashing while endeavouring to extricate the canoe from the reeds into which it had drifted. No sooner did they discover us than a dozen of them, or more, armed with spears and lances, plunged into the water and began swimming towards us. "Put down your paddle and take your gun," cried Charley, "these fellows mean mischief." All this time Iguma had not moved. The blacks, seeing only two white men in the canoe, thought that they would easily master us, and swam boldly forward. "I suppose that there are no crocodiles hereabouts, or those fellows will be picked up to a certainty by one of the beasts; we must not trust to that, however, but when the men come near enough, shoot them without ceremony," exclaimed Charley. Standing up in the canoe we warned the blacks to go back, but they took no notice of what we said. "Their blood be on their own heads--fire, Dick." We both pulled our triggers, one black threw up his arms and floated down the stream wounded, another dived, still I felt sure that I had hit him. The rest, undaunted, came on while we were reloading. Three were close upon us, and several others were not far behind them; one had actually got hold of the gunwale of the canoe, while Charley was aiming at another a short distance off. He fired, the black letting go his spear, threw up his arms. The first, however, might in another instant have climbed into the canoe, when Iguma, springing up with an axe in her hand, dealt him a blow on the head; without a cry he dropped back and sank immediately. I fired, and the rest seeing the fate of their companions, turned about and made for the shore. This gave us time to reload and be ready should any fresh ones come off to renew the attack. They appeared, however, to have had enough of it, and we, putting down our rifles, again took to our paddles and urged the canoe further out into the river, which was here very broad and the current slow. Still it ran at a sufficient speed to enable us to ascertain the direction we were to take. We now had time to look-out for our companions. They were nowhere to be seen, and we were still in doubt as to whether they were ahead or astern of us. Charley thought they must have paddled on and gone ahead, and if so, we should overtake them before long. We were, however, still followed by other bodies of our enemies along the shore, for those we had encountered were evidently only a small party, and, probably, others would be waiting for us close to the banks. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. IGUMA RELIEVES ME AT THE PADDLE--WE REJOIN OUR COMPANION!--CHARLEY HAS THE "WATCH BELOW"--WRECK OF KENDO'S CANOE--I RECOGNISE HERMAN JANSEN AMONG OUR PARTY--NECESSITY OF TAKING REST--A NARROW ESCAPE FROM SURPRISE BY A PARTY OF NATIVES--TEMPTATION TO KILL RESISTED--A DANGEROUS ENEMY-- HIPPOPOTAMI--OUR OTHER CANOE DESTROYED--FATE OF THE MURDERER OF CAPTAIN RODERICK--WE DETERMINE TO DIVIDE OUR PARTY, AND, FOLLOWING THE COURSE OF THE RIVER, MARCH TOWARDS THE SEABOARD, TAKING IT TURN AND TURN ABOUT IN THE CANOE--A FEARFUL STORM--OUR ONLY CANOE CRUSHED--CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNEY ON FOOT--THE "SPARKLING OCEAN" ONCE MORE IN SIGHT--WAITING FOR A SAIL--THE SIGNAL ANSWERED--CAPTAIN MAGOR--ON BOARD THE "ARROW"-- CONCLUSION. Believing that our friends were ahead, we paddled on with all our might. It was of the greatest importance that we should join them before we were again attacked, for, united, we might set at defiance any number of our pursuers likely to assail us. As may be supposed, our arms ached, and though we paddled on mechanically, I felt very sleepy, and occasionally my eyelids closed. As the sun got up the heat became excessive, but we did not dare to stop even for a few seconds under the trees which shaded the banks, lest any of our enemies might be lurking near, and might pounce down upon us. At last Iguma, who had been sitting watching us, offered to take my paddle. At first I felt ashamed to let her have it. "Give it up to her," said Charley. "I daresay she understands how to handle it as well as you do, and we shall make better way." I at length consented. When she had the paddle in her hand I lay down in her place at the bottom of the canoe, and I soon saw that she was working away with far more energy than I had lately shown. I watched her for a few minutes admiring the grace and dexterity with which she plied the paddle, and then my eyelids closed, and in another instant I was fast asleep. I do not think I ever enjoyed a more sound slumber, lulled by the ripple of the water on the side of the canoe as we glided rapidly along. Charley, being older and more inured to labour, was able to keep up better than I was, and I knew that he would not give in while there was any necessity for his exerting himself. I had pulled the matting over my head to preserve myself from the heat of the sun, which struck down with great force on the calm water. "There they are, there they are!" I heard Charley shouting out. His words awoke me, and starting up I could distinguish two dots on the water right ahead. "Are they our friends, though?" I asked Charley, after I had gazed at them a few seconds. "I hope so," he answered. "I felt sure that they were ahead of us, for, thinking that we were before them, they have been paddling on, expecting all the while to overtake us." "What does Iguma think?" I said, and tried to make her understand that we wanted to know whether the canoes we saw were those of our friends. To my great satisfaction she appeared to have no doubt about the matter. I then begged that she would let me have the paddle again, but she smiled and replied that her arms did not ache, and advised me to take my brother's paddle. "I don't mind if you do for ten minutes or so, I will then resume it and try if we cannot come up with the other canoes," said Charley. "How long have I been asleep?" I asked him, as I took his place. "Three or four hours, I suspect," he answered, "though I have not had time to look at my watch." As I thought would very likely be the case, no sooner did Charley lie down than he dropped off into a sound sleep. As after my long rest I felt very capable of work, I determined not to arouse him, treating him as he had treated me. Iguma and I made the canoe glide rapidly over the water. A light breeze had sprung up, somewhat cooling the air and enabling us to increase our exertions. I eagerly watched the canoes ahead, and felt sure that we were gaining on them. I wondered, however, that no one on board saw us, and could only suppose that those who were not paddling were asleep, while, of course, the paddlers had their backs towards us, and believing that we were ahead did not trouble themselves to look astern. At length I thought that they were near enough to make them hear me. At first I thought of firing my rifle, but the sound would, to a certainty, show our whereabouts to our enemies should they still be pursuing us, whereas my voice could be heard to any distance along the water alone. Acting on the impulse of the moment, I shouted out at the top of my voice. Charley started up, thinking that something was the matter. On seeing the canoes he joined his voice to mine. At length they ceased paddling; as they did so I cried out: "I fear, after all, they are enemies. See, those are black fellows standing up in the canoe nearest us." "If they are we must fight our way past them," observed Charley; "they have no firearms, and we can knock over several of them before they get up alongside, and should they do that we must fight them hand to hand; Iguma has shown that she is well able to defend herself; at all events, a few minutes will settle the matter." We again took to our paddles, and I, making a sign to Iguma to sit down again in the canoe, took her place. We had not gone far before Charley shouted out, "Hurrah! it's all right, I see Harry's and Tom's broad-brimmed hats, and I make out two white men in the other canoe." We were soon up to our friends, who greeted us warmly, they all along having fancied that we were ahead, and under that belief having paddled on, incited to exertions by occasionally hearing the voices of their pursuers as they cut off the bends of the river. They were of opinion, however, that we were now well ahead of them,--still we agreed that, during the remainder of daylight, it would be safer to continue our course. The river now narrowed considerably, and the current became much more rapid than it had been hitherto. Kendo and his henchman, with Harry and Tom, led the way. We were gliding quickly on, when suddenly Kendo's canoe spun round, and filling was driven against some rocks whose black heads rose above the foaming water. We narrowly avoided the danger, and as we shot by had just time to help Harry, who held on tight to his gun, on board, while Kendo, striking out, got up alongside us, and with the aid of Iguma also scrambled in. "Never mind me," cried out Tom, who was standing on the half sunken canoe, "I'll get into the other. Steer over this way, mates," he shouted out to the men in the other canoe. We had no time to render him assistance, and had to exert our skill to prevent our canoe running against some more rocks which appeared ahead. In less time than it has taken to describe the occurrence we were again in tranquil water, when looking round we were thankful to see Tom and Kendo's henchman safely seated in Caspar's canoe. The wrecked canoe was in the meantime dashed to pieces, so as to be rendered perfectly useless. We were somewhat crowded, but that could not be helped, and we hoped that we should not meet with more rapids in our course; although we might manage to swim on shore, should any accident occur, we should probably lose our rifles and knapsacks, and at all events damage our ammunition. We waited until Tom's canoe came up with us. I now recognised the stranger who had got on board just as they were shoving off as Herman Jansen, the murderer of Captain Roderick. His countenance wore the same gloomy expression as before. By his manner, however, he appeared not to be conscious that we were witnesses of the fearful deed he had committed, and under the circumstances we were placed, Harry and Charley agreed with me that it would not be wise in any way to allude to it. He had brought a rifle with him, how procured we could not tell. That would, of course, be of assistance should we be again attacked. From what we could learn from Kendo, we had too much reason to fear that we should meet with numerous enemies on our way down the river, who would only be restrained from attacking us by seeing our means of defence. He advised that we should keep our weapons ready for instant use. Another night was approaching. It was absolutely necessary that we should seek some place of shelter where we could rest for a few hours, as it would otherwise be impossible to paddle on during another day. We had fortunately a sufficient supply of cooked food, so that we had no need to go on shore and light a fire. Seeing a wooded point on the south bank of the river, where the trees overhung the water, we agreed to paddle in and secure the canoes. After supper it was arranged that some of us should lie down while the rest sat up and kept watch, so that we might be ready to defend ourselves against either human foes or any savage creatures which might be on the look-out for prey. We had remained at rest a couple of hours, when as Harry and I were sitting up while the remainder of the party were sleeping, we heard voices approaching, and looking out we saw a number of black forms gliding through the forest. From the way they approached, however, the savages could not have expected to surprise us, we therefore concluded that they were entirely ignorant of our whereabouts. Presently they came to a halt about a couple of hundred yards from where our canoes lay. We saw a light struck and they soon had a fire kindled, around which they seated themselves. In a short time other blacks arrived, and they all began to cook the provisions they had brought with them. It was very evident they had not forgotten a supply of palm-wine, which they must have quaffed pretty freely, as ere long several of them got up and began dancing away furiously. Others joined them, until the greater number were dancing round and round the fire, snapping their fingers, kicking out their legs, and giving vent to the most hideous yells and shrieks of laughter, the sounds echoing through the forest being answered by the jabberings of monkeys and the cries of night birds. Whether these were our pursuers or some other tribe indulging in a night orgy we could not tell. Kendo touched Charley's rifle as a sign for him to fire. My brother shook his head and answered-- "We none of us wish to injure any of the poor fellows unless compelled to do so in self-defence. The sooner we get away from this the better. We shall not be discovered while all this uproar is going on, and may be far down the river before the blacks recover their senses." Kendo rather unwillingly took his paddle, and Charley setting the example, we cautiously cast off from the branch to which we were moored and got up to the other canoe. Telling Tom that we were going to continue our course down the river, we paddled on. "Let us have a shot at the niggers," I heard Jansen say to his companions; "we might knock over a dozen before they could get near us." "Pull on, mate," said Tom; "what would be the use of injuring the people? they can do us no harm." Aboh seeing us going ahead, took his paddle, Tom doing the same, compelled the others to do so likewise. As I looked round I saw them following us. We continued our way during the greater part of the night, Kendo being sure that we were keeping the right course. We were thankful, however, once more to bring up, when we believed that we had put sufficient distance between ourselves and our pursuers, and that there was now no longer any fear of our being overtaken by them. We had another enemy, however, to contend with. As we lay moored to the bank we heard grunting sounds, and a splashing which proceeded, we well knew, from hippopotami, and from the frequency and loudness of the noises we had good reason to believe that a number of the creatures were either sporting about or feeding near us. However, they seldom attack canoes so as to injure them intentionally and are generally greatly afraid of human beings either when on shore or in the water. Huge and awkward as they are, they can run, and manage to make good progress over the ground, which they do when in search of grass, the food they live on. The bodies of those we saw were fully as large as elephants, although, having short legs, they were of a very different height, indeed, their bellies almost sweep the ground as they walk. Their feet are constructed in a very curious manner, to enable them to walk among the reeds and over the mud, as also to swim with ease. The hoof is divided into four short unconnected toes, which they can spread out like the feet of the camel when moving over the soft mud, or when swimming. The skin, which is almost entirely hairless, except in a few spots, is of a yellowish colour, the lower part assuming almost a pinkish hue. The head is hideous in the extreme, and armed with huge crooked tusks, the object of which is not so much for defence, as to dig up grass from the bottom of the river. These tusks afford the whitest ivory to be procured. There must have been thirty or forty of these creatures gambolling about around us. In spite of their noise, "those who had the watch below," as Charley called it, slept as soundly as tops. As soon as the sun rose the next morning, we went on shore for the first time since we had embarked, but no enemies were in sight, and we ventured to breakfast comfortably on the bank; Harry and I having shot several birds which contributed to the repast. As soon as breakfast was over, we continued our course, as we were anxious to get into a district where people were accustomed to white men, and were likely to assist us. Our canoe was leading, Tom being a little astern. We were just rounding a point where the water was somewhat shallow, when I heard a cry from the canoe astern. Upon looking round, I saw it lifted high in the air, and turned bottom upwards, while beneath it appeared a huge hippopotamus, which was making after one of the men; another man was on the point of being pitched on the creature's back, the two blacks, with their legs in the air, were falling into the water, and one of the men, who seemed to have sprung on shore, was scrambling up the bank. I saw all this at a glance, the next instant a fearful shriek escaped the swimmer, the huge hippopotamus had pierced him with its tusks, and seemed bent on venting its rage upon him. For an instant I feared that the victim was our friend Tom, but his voice reassured me, and I saw the good boatswain making for the bank, which his other companion had gained. The two blacks quickly followed. Just then catching sight of the countenance of the man attacked by the hippopotamus, I recognised Jansen, the murderer of Captain Roderick. Before either of us could raise our rifles to fire at the beast the miserable man had been dragged down beneath the water by the infuriated monster. We were on the point of returning to try and secure the canoe, when the hippopotamus again rose, and seizing the side in his huge mouth, crushed it to pieces, and we were thankful to paddle off to save our canoe from a like fate. We had now to consider what was to be done. We could not possibly take all the party into our canoe, nor could we leave any of them behind us. The blacks would to a certainty have been seized and carried off into slavery, unless protected by us. We were still, we calculated, a hundred miles or more from the coast; our only mode of proceeding, therefore, was for one party to continue along the shore, while the other paddled the canoe, and to relieve each other at intervals. We continued on in this fashion the greater part of the day, not meeting with another canoe or any habitations. As evening approached, having reached an open spot, we agreed to encamp there that we might shoot some game, as our stock of provisions was reduced to a very low ebb. Tom and Caspar, who had been walking the greater part of the day along the bank, were glad to take charge of the camp, while Charley, Harry, and I, with Kendo, went out in search of game. We were fortunate in killing two deer, several birds, and a couple of monkeys, and on our return we found that Iguma had not been idle, and had collected a supply of fruits and nuts, which, with the remainder of the plantain, gave us an abundant meal. There was still some time before dark, which we occupied in building a hut for the young lady, while we put up shelters for ourselves, and collected a large supply of sticks, so that we could have a blazing fire during the night. This was very necessary, as we had seen traces of wild beasts, and we might have otherwise very likely been visited by some of them. All of us required as much sleep as we could get. As soon as supper was over, we set the watch and lay down under our lean-to's, which were, should have said, at a sufficient distance from the water to avoid the risk of any of us being carried off by a hungry crocodile. I had been some hours asleep, forgetting entirely where we were, when I was awakened by a tremendous crash of thunder. Starting up, I heard crash succeeding crash, while vivid flashes of lightning darted from the sky, and went playing round us like fiery serpents. The wind at the same time began to blow with a fury we had not encountered since we landed on the shores of Africa, but as it was off the land we were partly sheltered by the forest, and it did not send the waves up the bank. Our lean-to's were speedily blown down. In a short time the rain came down in torrents, and had we not just before made up the fire it would at once have been put out. Fortunately Iguma's hut stood, and she invited us all in to take shelter beneath its roof, which, being composed of several layers of large leaves, fastened down by vines, sheltered us from the pitiless storm. There we all sat for the remainder of the night, all huddled up like so many mummies, and a curious picture we must have presented. Towards morning the hurricane abated, Tom and Aboh rushing out managed to scrape together the ashes of the fire which was not wholly extinguished, and again made it up. Shortly afterwards dawn broke. Uncomfortable as I was, I was actually dozing when I heard Tom cry out-- "The canoe, the canoe, where is she?" We all of us jumped up and hurried to the beach, when what was our dismay to find that the tree to which the canoe had been made fast had, riven by the storm, fallen and crushed it to pieces. On examining it we saw at once that to repair it would be hopeless, and we had now only to make up our minds once more to continue our journey overland. Fortunately we had still enough ammunition remaining to kill game for our support, but it was necessary carefully to husband it, Charley at once called a council of war. "One thing is certain. We must not delay," he observed, "for even when we do reach the coast, we don't know how long we may be detained, and unless we fall in with friendly savages we may find it difficult to procure food; or, perhaps, indeed have to fight our way. We are bound also to protect the blacks who are trusting to us, for depend upon it, every attempt will be made by the slave-trading rascals on the coast to detain them." Every one agreed with Charley, and without loss of time we commenced our march. I have already described travelling in Africa, so that I need not enter into the details of the journey we performed. We passed through the neighbourhood of several villages, from the inhabitants of which, with the remainder of the beads and the trinkets we possessed, we purchased food so that we were able to husband our powder and shot. Two attempts were made to carry off our black friends, but by showing a bold front and by pushing on, we prevented them from being made prisoners. The health of all the party was wonderfully preserved, indeed the climate, though so close under the line--from the nature of the soil--is superior to that further north. At length to our great joy we caught sight from a rising ground of the blue ocean sparkling in the distance. We had been two weeks performing the journey. We found that we had hit the shore some way to the south of the river, at a spot where a fine sheltered bay afforded a tempting harbour to any ships cruising off the coast, and the clear sparkling stream, which flowed down from the hill side at which vessels could obtain water, made it still more a likely spot to be touched at. We accordingly determined to pitch our camp there, near a wood from which we could obtain materials for building huts, and an ample supply of fuel for our fires as well as game for our food. It seemed surprising that no blacks should have taken up their abode in what appeared to us so fine a situation. We lost no time in erecting our huts, and making ourselves, as Tom called it, "at home." Of course we could not tell how long we might be detained there. Day after day passed by, no ship appeared in sight. At length Charley proposed proceeding to the northward, but Harry and I urged him to wait patiently a little longer. That same evening my brother and I had strolled out from our camp to enjoy the freshness of the breeze along the sea shore. A light wind played over the water, the stars shone forth with wonderful brilliancy. We were tempted to sit down on the rocks, where we remained talking over our prospects for some time, when Charley exclaimed-- "Look there, Dick, look there! a vessel, as I'm alive, she's standing into the bay. She's no stranger to it, or she would not come here during the dark. We must make a signal and try to attract her attention, though it is pretty certain that she will send a boat on shore early in the morning, yet it will be trying to have to wait until then to know what she is." There was abundance of drift wood on the beach which we quickly collected, and Charley having fortunately a tinder-box in his pocket, we had no difficulty in kindling a blaze. As soon as we got a brand burning I took it up, and swinging it round my head threw it high into the air. A second and a third time I did the same, when as I threw up a fourth brand, the signal was answered by a rocket which rose from the vessel. Before many minutes were over we heard the splash of oars, and could distinguish a boat. We both shouted, our hail was answered by an English voice. In another five minutes the stem of the boat touched the beach, and a person sprang on shore. "Who are you? where do you come from?" exclaimed a voice which I well knew. It was that of Captain Magor. The next instant we were all warmly shaking hands. Harry and Tom hearing our shouts had hurried down to the beach. Our surprise and satisfaction were mutual. We very quickly told him our adventures, and he then informed us that he had played the same trick on the pirates which they had played on Lieutenant Hallton, and that having recaptured the "Arrow" he had carried her safely back to England, and that he had now just arrived on the coast, the only misfortune which had happened to him being the death of a young man who had come out as supercargo. "You may therefore still be of the greatest assistance to me," he said, "and having now learned something of the language, and being acclimatised, you will be able to transact business with the natives far better than you could otherwise have done." We then told him of our black followers, who would, we believed, be of still greater assistance in procuring the articles we required, and disposing of the goods we had brought. Iguma and Kendo were somewhat alarmed at first at the thought of going on board a ship, but we soon overcame their fears, and the next morning we all went on board, bidding farewell to our encampment, and once more trod the deck of the "Arrow." Harry and I resumed our berths on board, as did Tom Tubbs, for the boatswain who had come out had already fallen sick and was unable to do duty. Caspar entered as one of the ship's company, as did Aboh, Captain Magor arranged to carry Kendo and Iguma with their followers to England, if they preferred going there to being landed at one of the English settlements on the coast. I must now bring my tale rapidly to a conclusion. Kendo and his wife-- wisely, I think--determined not to go to England. A week afterwards we fell in with the "Rover," when Charley rejoined his ship, taking the blacks with him, the captain kindly promising to land them at Cape Coast Castle, where they would be properly treated and looked after. With the information we had gained, we were so well able to conduct our transactions, that our voyage was the most successful ever made by the "Arrow," and we had the satisfaction of meeting with the approval of our employers, and receiving substantial acknowledgments. Of course our disappearance had caused very great anxiety to our friends, though they had been buoyed up by the hope that we would surely return. Harry and I having married the young ladies to whom we had so long been attached, entered the firm, and on the death of that kind and excellent man Mr Swab, we found that he had divided his fortune between us. THE END. 
17700	----	THE SUPPRESSION OF THE AFRICAN SLAVE-TRADE TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 1638-1870 Volume I Harvard Historical Studies 1896 Longmans, Green, and Co. New York * * * * * Preface This monograph was begun during my residence as Rogers Memorial Fellow at Harvard University, and is based mainly upon a study of the sources, i.e., national, State, and colonial statutes, Congressional documents, reports of societies, personal narratives, etc. The collection of laws available for this research was, I think, nearly complete; on the other hand, facts and statistics bearing on the economic side of the study have been difficult to find, and my conclusions are consequently liable to modification from this source. The question of the suppression of the slave-trade is so intimately connected with the questions as to its rise, the system of American slavery, and the whole colonial policy of the eighteenth century, that it is difficult to isolate it, and at the same time to avoid superficiality on the one hand, and unscientific narrowness of view on the other. While I could not hope entirely to overcome such a difficulty, I nevertheless trust that I have succeeded in rendering this monograph a small contribution to the scientific study of slavery and the American Negro. I desire to express my obligation to Dr. Albert Bushnell Hart, of Harvard University, at whose suggestion I began this work and by whose kind aid and encouragement I have brought it to a close; also I have to thank the trustees of the John F. Slater Fund, whose appointment made it possible to test the conclusions of this study by the general principles laid down in German universities. W.E. BURGHARDT DU BOIS. WILBERFORCE UNIVERSITY, March, 1896. * * * * * Contents CHAPTER I INTRODUCTORY 1. _Plan of the Monograph_ 9 2. _The Rise of the English Slave-Trade_ 9 CHAPTER II THE PLANTING COLONIES 3. _Character of these Colonies_ 15 4. _Restrictions in Georgia_ 15 5. _Restrictions in South Carolina_ 16 6. _Restrictions in North Carolina_ 19 7. _Restrictions in Virginia_ 19 8. _Restrictions in Maryland_ 22 9. _General Character of these Restrictions_ 23 CHAPTER III THE FARMING COLONIES 10. _Character of these Colonies_ 24 11. _The Dutch Slave-Trade_ 24 12. _Restrictions in New York_ 25 13. _Restrictions in Pennsylvania and Delaware_ 28 14. _Restrictions in New Jersey_ 32 15. _General Character of these Restrictions_ 33 CHAPTER IV THE TRADING COLONIES 16. _Character of these Colonies_ 34 17. _New England and the Slave-Trade_ 34 18. _Restrictions in New Hampshire_ 36 19. _Restrictions in Massachusetts_ 37 20. _Restrictions in Rhode Island_ 40 21. _Restrictions in Connecticut_ 43 22. _General Character of these Restrictions_ 44 CHAPTER V THE PERIOD OF THE REVOLUTION, 1774-1787 23. _The Situation in 1774_ 45 24. _The Condition of the Slave-Trade_ 46 25. _The Slave-Trade and the "Association"_ 47 26. _The Action of the Colonies_ 48 27. _The Action of the Continental Congress_ 49 28. _Reception of the Slave-Trade Resolution_ 51 29. _Results of the Resolution_ 52 30. _The Slave-Trade and Public Opinion after the War_ 53 31. _The Action of the Confederation_ 56 CHAPTER VI THE FEDERAL CONVENTION, 1787 32. _The First Proposition_ 58 33. _The General Debate_ 59 34. _The Special Committee and the "Bargain"_ 62 35. _The Appeal to the Convention_ 64 36. _Settlement by the Convention_ 66 37. _Reception of the Clause by the Nation_ 67 38. _Attitude of the State Conventions_ 70 39. _Acceptance of the Policy_ 72 CHAPTER VII TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE AND ANTI-SLAVERY EFFORT, 1787-1807 40. _Influence of the Haytian Revolution_ 74 41. _Legislation of the Southern States_ 75 42. _Legislation of the Border States_ 76 43. _Legislation of the Eastern States_ 76 44. _First Debate in Congress, 1789_ 77 45. _Second Debate in Congress, 1790_ 79 46. _The Declaration of Powers, 1790_ 82 47. _The Act of 1794_ 83 48. _The Act of 1800_ 85 49. _The Act of 1803_ 87 50. _State of the Slave-Trade from 1789 to 1803_ 88 51. _The South Carolina Repeal of 1803_ 89 52. _The Louisiana Slave-Trade, 1803-1805_ 91 53. _Last Attempts at Taxation, 1805-1806_ 94 54. _Key-Note of the Period_ 96 CHAPTER VIII THE PERIOD OF ATTEMPTED SUPPRESSION, 1807-1825 55. _The Act of 1807_ 97 56. _The First Question: How shall illegally imported Africans be disposed of?_ 99 57. _The Second Question: How shall Violations be punished?_ 104 58. _The Third Question: How shall the Interstate Coastwise Slave-Trade be protected?_ 106 59. _Legislative History of the Bill_ 107 60. _Enforcement of the Act_ 111 61. _Evidence of the Continuance of the Trade_ 112 62. _Apathy of the Federal Government_ 115 63. _Typical Cases_ 120 64. _The Supplementary Acts, 1818-1820_ 121 65. _Enforcement of the Supplementary Acts, 1818-1825_ 126 CHAPTER IX THE INTERNATIONAL STATUS OF THE SLAVE-TRADE, 1783-1862 66. _The Rise of the Movement against the Slave-Trade, 1788-1807_ 133 67. _Concerted Action of the Powers, 1783-1814_ 134 68. _Action of the Powers from 1814 to 1820_ 136 69. _The Struggle for an International Right of Search, 1820-1840_ 137 70. _Negotiations of 1823-1825_ 140 71. _The Attitude of the United States and the State of the Slave-Trade_ 142 72. _The Quintuple Treaty, 1839-1842_ 145 73. _Final Concerted Measures, 1842-1862_ 148 CHAPTER X THE RISE OF THE COTTON KINGDOM, 1820-1850 74. _The Economic Revolution_ 152 75. _The Attitude of the South_ 154 76. _The Attitude of the North and Congress_ 156 77. _Imperfect Application of the Laws_ 159 78. _Responsibility of the Government_ 161 79. _Activity of the Slave-Trade, 1820-1850_ 163 CHAPTER XI THE FINAL CRISIS, 1850-1870 80. _The Movement against the Slave-Trade Laws_ 168 81. _Commercial Conventions of 1855-1856_ 169 82. _Commercial Conventions of 1857-1858_ 170 83. _Commercial Convention of 1859_ 172 84. _Public Opinion in the South_ 173 85. _The Question in Congress_ 174 86. _Southern Policy in 1860_ 176 87. _Increase of the Slave-Trade from 1850 to 1860_ 178 88. _Notorious Infractions of the Laws_ 179 89. _Apathy of the Federal Government_ 182 90. _Attitude of the Southern Confederacy_ 187 91. _Attitude of the United States_ 190 CHAPTER XII THE ESSENTIALS IN THE STRUGGLE 92. _How the Question Arose_ 193 93. _The Moral Movement_ 194 94. _The Political Movement_ 195 95. _The Economic Movement_ 195 96. _The Lesson for Americans_ 196 APPENDICES A. _A Chronological Conspectus of Colonial and State Legislation restricting the African Slave-Trade, 1641-1787_ 199 B. _A Chronological Conspectus of State, National, and International Legislation, 1788-1871_ 234 C. _Typical Cases of Vessels engaged in the American Slave-Trade, 1619-1864_ 306 D. _Bibliography_ 316 INDEX 347 * * * * * _Chapter I_ INTRODUCTORY. 1. Plan of the Monograph. 2. The Rise of the English Slave-Trade. 1. ~Plan of the Monograph.~ This monograph proposes to set forth the efforts made in the United States of America, from early colonial times until the present, to limit and suppress the trade in slaves between Africa and these shores. The study begins with the colonial period, setting forth in brief the attitude of England and, more in detail, the attitude of the planting, farming, and trading groups of colonies toward the slave-trade. It deals next with the first concerted effort against the trade and with the further action of the individual States. The important work of the Constitutional Convention follows, together with the history of the trade in that critical period which preceded the Act of 1807. The attempt to suppress the trade from 1807 to 1830 is next recounted. A chapter then deals with the slave-trade as an international problem. Finally the development of the crises up to the Civil War is studied, together with the steps leading to the final suppression; and a concluding chapter seeks to sum up the results of the investigation. Throughout the monograph the institution of slavery and the interstate slave-trade are considered only incidentally. 2. ~The Rise of the English Slave-Trade.~ Any attempt to consider the attitude of the English colonies toward the African slave-trade must be prefaced by a word as to the attitude of England herself and the development of the trade in her hands.[1] Sir John Hawkins's celebrated voyage took place in 1562, but probably not until 1631[2] did a regular chartered company undertake to carry on the trade.[3] This company was unsuccessful,[4] and was eventually succeeded by the "Company of Royal Adventurers trading to Africa," chartered by Charles II. in 1662, and including the Queen Dowager and the Duke of York.[5] The company contracted to supply the West Indies with three thousand slaves annually; but contraband trade, misconduct, and war so reduced it that in 1672 it surrendered its charter to another company for £34,000.[6] This new corporation, chartered by Charles II. as the "Royal African Company," proved more successful than its predecessors, and carried on a growing trade for a quarter of a century. In 1698 Parliamentary interference with the trade began. By the Statute 9 and 10 William and Mary, chapter 26, private traders, on payment of a duty of 10% on English goods exported to Africa, were allowed to participate in the trade. This was brought about by the clamor of the merchants, especially the "American Merchants," who "in their Petition suggest, that it would be a great Benefit to the Kingdom to secure the Trade by maintaining Forts and Castles there, with an equal Duty upon all Goods exported."[7] This plan, being a compromise between maintaining the monopoly intact and entirely abolishing it, was adopted, and the statute declared the trade "highly Beneficial and Advantageous to this Kingdom, and to the Plantations and Colonies thereunto belonging." Having thus gained practically free admittance to the field, English merchants sought to exclude other nations by securing a monopoly of the lucrative Spanish colonial slave-trade. Their object was finally accomplished by the signing of the Assiento in 1713.[8] The Assiento was a treaty between England and Spain by which the latter granted the former a monopoly of the Spanish colonial slave-trade for thirty years, and England engaged to supply the colonies within that time with at least 144,000 slaves, at the rate of 4,800 per year. England was also to advance Spain 200,000 crowns, and to pay a duty of 33½ crowns for each slave imported. The kings of Spain and England were each to receive one-fourth of the profits of the trade, and the Royal African Company were authorized to import as many slaves as they wished above the specified number in the first twenty-five years, and to sell them, except in three ports, at any price they could get. It is stated that, in the twenty years from 1713 to 1733, fifteen thousand slaves were annually imported into America by the English, of whom from one-third to one-half went to the Spanish colonies.[9] To the company itself the venture proved a financial failure; for during the years 1729-1750 Parliament assisted the Royal Company by annual grants which amounted to £90,000,[10] and by 1739 Spain was a creditor to the extent of £68,000, and threatened to suspend the treaty. The war interrupted the carrying out of the contract, but the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle extended the limit by four years. Finally, October 5, 1750, this privilege was waived for a money consideration paid to England; the Assiento was ended, and the Royal Company was bankrupt. By the Statute 23 George II., chapter 31, the old company was dissolved and a new "Company of Merchants trading to Africa" erected in its stead.[11] Any merchant so desiring was allowed to engage in the trade on payment of certain small duties, and such merchants formed a company headed by nine directors. This marked the total abolition of monopoly in the slave-trade, and was the form under which the trade was carried on until after the American Revolution. That the slave-trade was the very life of the colonies had, by 1700, become an almost unquestioned axiom in British practical economics. The colonists themselves declared slaves "the strength and sinews of this western world,"[12] and the lack of them "the grand obstruction"[13] here, as the settlements "cannot subsist without supplies of them."[14] Thus, with merchants clamoring at home and planters abroad, it easily became the settled policy of England to encourage the slave-trade. Then, too, she readily argued that what was an economic necessity in Jamaica and the Barbadoes could scarcely be disadvantageous to Carolina, Virginia, or even New York. Consequently, the colonial governors were generally instructed to "give all due encouragement and invitation to merchants and others, ... and in particular to the royal African company of England."[15] Duties laid on the importer, and all acts in any way restricting the trade, were frowned upon and very often disallowed. "Whereas," ran Governor Dobbs's instructions, "Acts have been passed in some of our Plantations in America for laying duties on the importation and exportation of Negroes to the great discouragement of the Merchants trading thither from the coast of Africa.... It is our Will and Pleasure that you do not give your assent to or pass any Law imposing duties upon Negroes imported into our Province of North Carolina."[16] The exact proportions of the slave-trade to America can be but approximately determined. From 1680 to 1688 the African Company sent 249 ships to Africa, shipped there 60,783 Negro slaves, and after losing 14,387 on the middle passage, delivered 46,396 in America. The trade increased early in the eighteenth century, 104 ships clearing for Africa in 1701; it then dwindled until the signing of the Assiento, standing at 74 clearances in 1724. The final dissolution of the monopoly in 1750 led--excepting in the years 1754-57, when the closing of Spanish marts sensibly affected the trade--to an extraordinary development, 192 clearances being made in 1771. The Revolutionary War nearly stopped the traffic; but by 1786 the clearances had risen again to 146. To these figures must be added the unregistered trade of Americans and foreigners. It is probable that about 25,000 slaves were brought to America each year between 1698 and 1707. The importation then dwindled, but rose after the Assiento to perhaps 30,000. The proportion, too, of these slaves carried to the continent now began to increase. Of about 20,000 whom the English annually imported from 1733 to 1766, South Carolina alone received some 3,000. Before the Revolution, the total exportation to America is variously estimated as between 40,000 and 100,000 each year. Bancroft places the total slave population of the continental colonies at 59,000 in 1714, 78,000 in 1727, and 293,000 in 1754. The census of 1790 showed 697,897 slaves in the United States.[17] In colonies like those in the West Indies and in South Carolina and Georgia, the rapid importation into America of a multitude of savages gave rise to a system of slavery far different from that which the late Civil War abolished. The strikingly harsh and even inhuman slave codes in these colonies show this. Crucifixion, burning, and starvation were legal modes of punishment.[18] The rough and brutal character of the time and place was partly responsible for this, but a more decisive reason lay in the fierce and turbulent character of the imported Negroes. The docility to which long years of bondage and strict discipline gave rise was absent, and insurrections and acts of violence were of frequent occurrence.[19] Again and again the danger of planters being "cut off by their own negroes"[20] is mentioned, both in the islands and on the continent. This condition of vague dread and unrest not only increased the severity of laws and strengthened the police system, but was the prime motive back of all the earlier efforts to check the further importation of slaves. On the other hand, in New England and New York the Negroes were merely house servants or farm hands, and were treated neither better nor worse than servants in general in those days. Between these two extremes, the system of slavery varied from a mild serfdom in Pennsylvania and New Jersey to an aristocratic caste system in Maryland and Virginia. FOOTNOTES: [1] This account is based largely on the _Report of the Lords of the Committee of Council_, etc. (London, 1789). [2] African trading-companies had previously been erected (e.g. by Elizabeth in 1585 and 1588, and by James I. in 1618); but slaves are not specifically mentioned in their charters, and they probably did not trade in slaves. Cf. Bandinel, _Account of the Slave Trade_ (1842), pp. 38-44. [3] Chartered by Charles I. Cf. Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1574-1660_, p. 135. [4] In 1651, during the Protectorate, the privileges of the African trade were granted anew to this same company for fourteen years. Cf. Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1574-1660_, pp. 342, 355. [5] Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1661-1668_, § 408. [6] Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1669-1674_, §§ 934, 1095. [7] Quoted in the above _Report_, under "Most Material Proceedings in the House of Commons," Vol. I. Part I. An import duty of 10% on all goods, except Negroes, imported from Africa to England and the colonies was also laid. The proceeds of these duties went to the Royal African Company. [8] Cf. Appendix A. [9] Bandinel, _Account of the Slave Trade_, p. 59. Cf. Bryan Edwards, _History of the British Colonies in the W. Indies_ (London, 1798), Book VI. [10] From 1729 to 1788, including compensation to the old company, Parliament expended £705,255 on African companies. Cf. _Report_, etc., as above. [11] Various amendatory statutes were passed: e.g., 24 George II. ch. 49, 25 George II. ch. 40, 4 George III. ch. 20, 5 George III. ch. 44, 23 George III. ch. 65. [12] Renatus Enys from Surinam, in 1663: Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1661-68_, § 577. [13] Thomas Lynch from Jamaica, in 1665: Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1661-68_, § 934. [14] Lieutenant-Governor Willoughby of Barbadoes, in 1666: Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1661-68_, § 1281. [15] Smith, _History of New Jersey_ (1765), p. 254; Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1669-74_., §§ 367, 398, 812. [16] _N.C. Col. Rec._, V. 1118. For similar instructions, cf. _Penn. Archives_, I. 306; _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VI. 34; Gordon, _History of the American Revolution_, I. letter 2; _Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll._, 4th Ser. X. 642. [17] These figures are from the above-mentioned _Report_, Vol. II. Part IV. Nos. 1, 5. See also Bancroft, _History of the United States_ (1883), II. 274 ff; Bandinel, _Account of the Slave Trade_, p. 63; Benezet, _Caution to Great Britain_, etc., pp. 39-40, and _Historical Account of Guinea_, ch. xiii. [18] Compare earlier slave codes in South Carolina, Georgia, Jamaica, etc.; also cf. Benezet, _Historical Account of Guinea_, p. 75; _Report_, etc., as above. [19] Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1574-1660_, pp. 229, 271, 295; _1661-68_, §§ 61, 412, 826, 1270, 1274, 1788; _1669-74_., §§ 508, 1244; Bolzius and Von Reck, _Journals_ (in Force, _Tracts_, Vol. IV. No. 5, pp. 9, 18); _Proceedings of Governor and Assembly of Jamaica in regard to the Maroon Negroes_ (London, 1796). [20] Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers, Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1661-68_, § 1679. * * * * * _Chapter II_ THE PLANTING COLONIES. 3. Character of these Colonies. 4. Restrictions in Georgia. 5. Restrictions in South Carolina. 6. Restrictions in North Carolina. 7. Restrictions in Virginia. 8. Restrictions in Maryland. 9. General Character of these Restrictions. 3. ~Character of these Colonies.~ The planting colonies are those Southern settlements whose climate and character destined them to be the chief theatre of North American slavery. The early attitude of these communities toward the slave-trade is therefore of peculiar interest; for their action was of necessity largely decisive for the future of the trade and for the institution in North America. Theirs was the only soil, climate, and society suited to slavery; in the other colonies, with few exceptions, the institution was by these same factors doomed from the beginning. Hence, only strong moral and political motives could in the planting colonies overthrow or check a traffic so favored by the mother country. 4. ~Restrictions in Georgia.~ In Georgia we have an example of a community whose philanthropic founders sought to impose upon it a code of morals higher than the colonists wished. The settlers of Georgia were of even worse moral fibre than their slave-trading and whiskey-using neighbors in Carolina and Virginia; yet Oglethorpe and the London proprietors prohibited from the beginning both the rum and the slave traffic, refusing to "suffer slavery (which is against the Gospel as well as the fundamental law of England) to be authorised under our authority."[1] The trustees sought to win the colonists over to their belief by telling them that money could be better expended in transporting white men than Negroes; that slaves would be a source of weakness to the colony; and that the "Produces designed to be raised in the Colony would not require such Labour as to make Negroes necessary for carrying them on."[2] This policy greatly displeased the colonists, who from 1735, the date of the first law, to 1749, did not cease to clamor for the repeal of the restrictions.[3] As their English agent said, they insisted that "In Spight of all Endeavours to disguise this Point, it is as clear as Light itself, that Negroes are as essentially necessary to the Cultivation of _Georgia_, as Axes, Hoes, or any other Utensil of Agriculture."[4] Meantime, evasions and infractions of the laws became frequent and notorious. Negroes were brought across from Carolina and "hired" for life.[5] "Finally, purchases were openly made in Savannah from African traders: some seizures were made by those who opposed the principle, but as a majority of the magistrates were favorable to the introduction of slaves into the province, legal decisions were suspended from time to time, and a strong disposition evidenced by the courts to evade the operation of the law."[6] At last, in 1749, the colonists prevailed on the trustees and the government, and the trade was thrown open under careful restrictions, which limited importation, required a registry and quarantine on all slaves brought in, and laid a duty.[7] It is probable, however, that these restrictions were never enforced, and that the trade thus established continued unchecked until the Revolution. 5. ~Restrictions in South Carolina.~[8] South Carolina had the largest and most widely developed slave-trade of any of the continental colonies. This was owing to the character of her settlers, her nearness to the West Indian slave marts, and the early development of certain staple crops, such as rice, which were adapted to slave labor.[9] Moreover, this colony suffered much less interference from the home government than many other colonies; thus it is possible here to trace the untrammeled development of slave-trade restrictions in a typical planting community. As early as 1698 the slave-trade to South Carolina had reached such proportions that it was thought that "the great number of negroes which of late have been imported into this Collony may endanger the safety thereof." The immigration of white servants was therefore encouraged by a special law.[10] Increase of immigration reduced this disproportion, but Negroes continued to be imported in such numbers as to afford considerable revenue from a moderate duty on them. About the time when the Assiento was signed, the slave-trade so increased that, scarcely a year after the consummation of that momentous agreement, two heavy duty acts were passed, because "the number of Negroes do extremely increase in this Province, and through the afflicting providence of God, the white persons do not proportionately multiply, by reason whereof, the safety of the said Province is greatly endangered."[11] The trade, however, by reason of the encouragement abroad and of increased business activity in exporting naval stores at home, suffered scarcely any check, although repeated acts, reciting the danger incident to a "great importation of Negroes," were passed, laying high duties.[12] Finally, in 1717, an additional duty of £40,[13] although due in depreciated currency, succeeded so nearly in stopping the trade that, two years later, all existing duties were repealed and one of £10 substituted.[14] This continued during the time of resistance to the proprietary government, but by 1734 the importation had again reached large proportions. "We must therefore beg leave," the colonists write in that year, "to inform your Majesty, that, amidst our other perilous circumstances, we are subject to many intestine dangers from the great number of negroes that are now among us, who amount at least to twenty-two thousand persons, and are three to one of all your Majesty's white subjects in this province. Insurrections against us have been often attempted."[15] In 1740 an insurrection under a slave, Cato, at Stono, caused such widespread alarm that a prohibitory duty of £100 was immediately laid.[16] Importation was again checked; but in 1751 the colony sought to devise a plan whereby the slightly restricted immigration of Negroes should provide a fund to encourage the importation of white servants, "to prevent the mischiefs that may be attended by the great importation of negroes into this Province."[17] Many white servants were thus encouraged to settle in the colony; but so much larger was the influx of black slaves that the colony, in 1760, totally prohibited the slave-trade. This act was promptly disallowed by the Privy Council and the governor reprimanded;[18] but the colony declared that "an importation of negroes, equal in number to what have been imported of late years, may prove of the most dangerous consequence in many respects to this Province, and the best way to obviate such danger will be by imposing such an additional duty upon them as may totally prevent the evils."[19] A prohibitive duty of £100 was accordingly imposed in 1764.[20] This duty probably continued until the Revolution. The war made a great change in the situation. It has been computed by good judges that, between the years 1775 and 1783, the State of South Carolina lost twenty-five thousand Negroes, by actual hostilities, plunder of the British, runaways, etc. After the war the trade quickly revived, and considerable revenue was raised from duty acts until 1787, when by act and ordinance the slave-trade was totally prohibited.[21] This prohibition, by renewals from time to time, lasted until 1803. 6. ~Restrictions in North Carolina.~ In early times there were few slaves in North Carolina;[22] this fact, together with the troubled and turbulent state of affairs during the early colonial period, did not necessitate the adoption of any settled policy toward slavery or the slave-trade. Later the slave-trade to the colony increased; but there is no evidence of any effort to restrict or in any way regulate it before 1786, when it was declared that "the importation of slaves into this State is productive of evil consequences and highly impolitic,"[23] and a prohibitive duty was laid on them. 7. ~Restrictions in Virginia.~[24] Next to South Carolina, Virginia had probably the largest slave-trade. Her situation, however, differed considerably from that of her Southern neighbor. The climate, the staple tobacco crop, and the society of Virginia were favorable to a system of domestic slavery, but one which tended to develop into a patriarchal serfdom rather than into a slave-consuming industrial hierarchy. The labor required by the tobacco crop was less unhealthy than that connected with the rice crop, and the Virginians were, perhaps, on a somewhat higher moral plane than the Carolinians. There was consequently no such insatiable demand for slaves in the larger colony. On the other hand, the power of the Virginia executive was peculiarly strong, and it was not possible here to thwart the slave-trade policy of the home government as easily as elsewhere. Considering all these circumstances, it is somewhat difficult to determine just what was the attitude of the early Virginians toward the slave-trade. There is evidence, however, to show that although they desired the slave-trade, the rate at which the Negroes were brought in soon alarmed them. In 1710 a duty of £5 was laid on Negroes, but Governor Spotswood "soon perceived that the laying so high a Duty on Negros was intended to discourage the importation," and vetoed the measure.[25] No further restrictive legislation was attempted for some years, but whether on account of the attitude of the governor or the desire of the inhabitants, is not clear. With 1723 begins a series of acts extending down to the Revolution, which, so far as their contents can be ascertained, seem to have been designed effectually to check the slave-trade. Some of these acts, like those of 1723 and 1727, were almost immediately disallowed.[26] The Act of 1732 laid a duty of 5%, which was continued until 1769,[27] and all other duties were in addition to this; so that by such cumulative duties the rate on slaves reached 25% in 1755,[28] and 35% at the time of Braddock's expedition.[29] These acts were found "very burthensome," "introductive of many frauds," and "very inconvenient,"[30] and were so far repealed that by 1761 the duty was only 15%. As now the Burgesses became more powerful, two or more bills proposing restrictive duties were passed, but disallowed.[31] By 1772 the anti-slave-trade feeling had become considerably developed, and the Burgesses petitioned the king, declaring that "The importation of slaves into the colonies from the coast of Africa hath long been considered as a trade of great inhumanity, and under its present encouragement, we have too much reason to fear _will endanger the very existence_ of your Majesty's American dominions.... Deeply impressed with these sentiments, we most humbly beseech your Majesty to remove _all those restraints_ on your Majesty's governors of this colony, _which inhibit their assenting to such laws as might check so very pernicious a commerce_."[32] Nothing further appears to have been done before the war. When, in 1776, the delegates adopted a Frame of Government, it was charged in this document that the king had perverted his high office into a "detestable and insupportable tyranny, by ... prompting our negroes to rise in arms among us, those very negroes whom, by an inhuman use of his negative, he hath refused us permission to exclude by law."[33] Two years later, in 1778, an "Act to prevent the further importation of Slaves" stopped definitively the legal slave-trade to Virginia.[34] 8. ~Restrictions in Maryland.~[35] Not until the impulse of the Assiento had been felt in America, did Maryland make any attempt to restrain a trade from which she had long enjoyed a comfortable revenue. The Act of 1717, laying a duty of 40_s._,[36] may have been a mild restrictive measure. The duties were slowly increased to 50_s._ in 1754,[37] and £4. in 1763.[38] In 1771 a prohibitive duty of £9 was laid;[39] and in 1783, after the war, all importation by sea was stopped and illegally imported Negroes were freed.[40] Compared with the trade to Virginia and the Carolinas, the slave-trade to Maryland was small, and seems at no time to have reached proportions which alarmed the inhabitants. It was regulated to the economic demand by a slowly increasing tariff, and finally, after 1769, had nearly ceased of its own accord before the restrictive legislation of Revolutionary times.[41] Probably the proximity of Maryland to Virginia made an independent slave-trade less necessary to her. 9. ~General Character of these Restrictions.~ We find in the planting colonies all degrees of advocacy of the trade, from the passiveness of Maryland to the clamor of Georgia. Opposition to the trade did not appear in Georgia, was based almost solely on political fear of insurrection in Carolina, and sprang largely from the same motive in Virginia, mingled with some moral repugnance. As a whole, it may be said that whatever opposition to the slave-trade there was in the planting colonies was based principally on the political fear of insurrection. FOOTNOTES: [1] Hoare, _Memoirs of Granville Sharp_ (1820), p. 157. For the act of prohibition, see W.B. Stevens, _History of Georgia_ (1847), I. 311. [2] [B. Martyn, _Account of the Progress of Georgia_ (1741), pp. 9-10.] [3] Cf. Stevens, _History of Georgia_, I. 290 ff. [4] Stephens, _Account of the Causes_, etc., p. 8. Cf. also _Journal of Trustees_, II. 210; cited by Stevens, _History of Georgia_, I. 306. [5] McCall, _History of Georgia_ (1811), I. 206-7. [6] _Ibid._ [7] _Pub. Rec. Office, Board of Trade_, Vol. X.; cited by C.C. Jones, _History of Georgia_ (1883), I. 422-5. [8] The following is a summary of the legislation of the colony of South Carolina; details will be found in Appendix A:-- 1698, Act to encourage the immigration of white servants. 1703, Duty Act: 10_s._ on Africans, 20_s._ on other Negroes. 1714, " " additional duty. 1714, " " £2. 1714-15, Duty Act: additional duty. 1716, " " £3 on Africans, £30 on colonial Negroes. 1717, " " £40 in addition to existing duties. 1719, " " £10 on Africans, £30 on colonial Negroes. The Act of 1717, etc., was repealed. 1721, " " £10 on Africans, £50 on colonial Negroes. 1722, " " " " " " " 1740, " " £100 on Africans, £150 on colonial Negroes. 1751, " " £10 " " £50 " " 1760, Act prohibiting importation (Disallowed). 1764, Duty Act: additional duty of £100. 1783, " " £3 on Africans, £20 on colonial Negroes. 1784, " " " " £5 " " 1787, Art and Ordinance prohibiting importation. [9] Cf. Hewatt, _Historical Account of S. Carolina and Georgia_ (1779), I. 120 ff.; reprinted in _S.C. Hist. Coll._ (1836), I. 108 ff. [10] Cooper, _Statutes at Large of S. Carolina_, II. 153. [11] The text of the first act is not extant: cf. Cooper, _Statutes_, III. 56. For the second, see Cooper, VII. 365, 367. [12] Cf. Grimké, _Public Laws of S. Carolina_, p. xvi, No. 362; Cooper, _Statutes_, II. 649. Cf. also _Governor Johnson to the Board of Trade_, Jan. 12, 1719-20; reprinted in Rivers, _Early History of S. Carolina_ (1874), App., xii. [13] Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 368. [14] _Ibid._, III. 56. [15] From a memorial signed by the governor, President of the Council, and Speaker of the House, dated April 9, 1734, printed in Hewatt, _Historical Account of S. Carolina and Georgia_ (1779), II. 39; reprinted in S.C. Hist. Coll. (1836), I. 305-6. Cf. _N.C. Col. Rec._, II. 421. [16] Cooper, _Statutes_, III. 556; Grimké, _Public Laws_, p. xxxi, No. 694. Cf. Ramsay, _History of S. Carolina_, I. 110. [17] Cooper, _Statutes_, III. 739. [18] The text of this law has not been found. Cf. Burge, _Commentaries on Colonial and Foreign Laws_, I. 737, note; Stevens, _History of Georgia_, I. 286. See instructions of the governor of New Hampshire, June 30, 1761, in Gordon, _History of the American Revolution_, I. letter 2. [19] Cooper, _Statutes_, IV. 187. [20] This duty avoided the letter of the English instructions by making the duty payable by the first purchasers, and not by the importers. Cf. Cooper, _Statutes_, IV. 187. [21] Grimké, Public Laws, p. lxviii, Nos. 1485, 1486; Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 430. [22] Cf. _N.C. Col. Rec._, IV. 172. [23] Martin, _Iredell's Acts of Assembly_, I. 413, 492. [24] The following is a summary of the legislation of the colony of Virginia; details will be found in Appendix A:-- 1710, Duty Act: proposed duty of £5. 1723, " " prohibitive (?). 1727, " " " 1732, " " 5%. 1736, " " " 1740, " " additional duty of 5%. 1754, " " " " 5%. 1755, " " " " 10% (Repealed, 1760). 1757, " " " " 10% (Repealed, 1761). 1759, " " 20% on colonial slaves. 1766, " " additional duty of 10% (Disallowed?). 1769, " " " " " " 1772, " " £5 on colonial slaves. Petition of Burgesses _vs._ Slave-trade. 1776, Arraignment of the king in the adopted Frame of Government. 1778, Importation prohibited. [25] _Letters of Governor Spotswood_, in _Va. Hist. Soc. Coll._, New Ser., I. 52. [26] Hening, _Statutes at Large of Virginia_, IV. 118, 182. [27] _Ibid._, IV. 317, 394; V. 28, 160, 318; VI. 217, 353; VII. 281; VIII. 190, 336, 532. [28] _Ibid._, V. 92; VI. 417, 419, 461, 466. [29] _Ibid._, VII. 69, 81. [30] _Ibid._, VII. 363, 383. [31] _Ibid._, VIII. 237, 337. [32] _Miscellaneous Papers, 1672-1865_, in _Va. Hist. Soc. Coll._, New Ser., VI. 14; Tucker, _Blackstone's Commentaries_, I. Part II. App., 51. [33] Hening, _Statutes_, IX. 112. [34] Importation by sea or by land was prohibited, with a penalty of £1000 for illegal importation and £500 for buying or selling. The Negro was freed, if illegally brought in. This law was revised somewhat in 1785. Cf. Hening, _Statutes_, IX. 471; XII. 182. [35] The following is a summary of the legislation of the colony of Maryland; details will be found in Appendix A:-- 1695, Duty Act: 10_s._ 1704, " " 20_s._ 1715, " " " 1717, " " additional duty of 40_s._ (?). 1754, " " " " 10_s._, total 50_s._ 1756, " " " " 20_s._ " 40_s._ (?). 1763, " " " " £2 " £4. 1771, " " " " £5 " £9. 1783, Importation prohibited. [36] _Compleat Coll. Laws of Maryland_ (ed. 1727), p. 191; Bacon, _Laws of Maryland at Large_, 1728, ch. 8. [37] Bacon, _Laws_, 1754, ch. 9, 14. [38] _Ibid._, 1763, ch. 28. [39] _Laws of Maryland since 1763_: 1771, ch. 7. Cf. _Ibid._: 1777, sess. Feb.-Apr., ch. 18. [40] _Ibid._: 1783, sess. Apr.-June, ch. 23. [41] "The last importation of slaves into Maryland was, as I am credibly informed, in the year 1769": William Eddis, _Letters from America_ (London, 1792), p. 65, note. The number of slaves in Maryland has been estimated as follows:-- In 1704, 4,475. _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, V. 605. " 1710, 7,935. _Ibid._ " 1712, 8,330. Scharf, _History of Maryland_, I. 377. " 1719, 25,000. _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, V. 605. " 1748, 36,000. McMahon, _History of Maryland_, I. 313. " 1755, 46,356. _Gentleman's Magazine_, XXXIV. 261. " 1756, 46,225. McMahon, _History of Maryland_, I. 313. " 1761, 49,675. Dexter, _Colonial Population_, p. 21, note. " 1782, 83,362. _Encyclopædia Britannica_ (9th ed.), XV. 603. " 1787, 80,000. Dexter, _Colonial Population_, p. 21, note. * * * * * _Chapter III_ THE FARMING COLONIES. 10. Character of these Colonies. 11. The Dutch Slave-Trade. 12. Restrictions in New York. 13. Restrictions in Pennsylvania and Delaware. 14. Restrictions in New Jersey. 15. General Character of these Restrictions. 10. ~Character of these Colonies.~ The colonies of this group, occupying the central portion of the English possessions, comprise those communities where, on account of climate, physical characteristics, and circumstances of settlement, slavery as an institution found but a narrow field for development. The climate was generally rather cool for the newly imported slaves, the soil was best suited to crops to which slave labor was poorly adapted, and the training and habits of the great body of settlers offered little chance for the growth of a slave system. These conditions varied, of course, in different colonies; but the general statement applies to all. These communities of small farmers and traders derived whatever opposition they had to the slave-trade from three sorts of motives,--economic, political, and moral. First, the importation of slaves did not pay, except to supply a moderate demand for household servants. Secondly, these colonies, as well as those in the South, had a wholesome political fear of a large servile population. Thirdly, the settlers of many of these colonies were of sterner moral fibre than the Southern cavaliers and adventurers, and, in the absence of great counteracting motives, were more easily led to oppose the institution and the trade. Finally, it must be noted that these colonies did not so generally regard themselves as temporary commercial investments as did Virginia and Carolina. Intending to found permanent States, these settlers from the first more carefully studied the ultimate interests of those States. 11. ~The Dutch Slave-Trade.~ The Dutch seem to have commenced the slave-trade to the American continent, the Middle colonies and some of the Southern receiving supplies from them. John Rolfe relates that the last of August, 1619, there came to Virginia "a dutch man of warre that sold us twenty Negars."[1] This was probably one of the ships of the numerous private Dutch trading-companies which early entered into and developed the lucrative African slave-trade. Ships sailed from Holland to Africa, got slaves in exchange for their goods, carried the slaves to the West Indies or Brazil, and returned home laden with sugar.[2] Through the enterprise of one of these trading-companies the settlement of New Amsterdam was begun, in 1614. In 1621 the private companies trading in the West were all merged into the Dutch West India Company, and given a monopoly of American trade. This company was very active, sending in four years 15,430 Negroes to Brazil,[3] carrying on war with Spain, supplying even the English plantations,[4] and gradually becoming the great slave carrier of the day. The commercial supremacy of the Dutch early excited the envy and emulation of the English. The Navigation Ordinance of 1651 was aimed at them, and two wars were necessary to wrest the slave-trade from them and place it in the hands of the English. The final terms of peace among other things surrendered New Netherland to England, and opened the way for England to become henceforth the world's greatest slave-trader. Although the Dutch had thus commenced the continental slave-trade, they had not actually furnished a very large number of slaves to the English colonies outside the West Indies. A small trade had, by 1698, brought a few thousand to New York, and still fewer to New Jersey.[5] It was left to the English, with their strong policy in its favor, to develop this trade. 12. ~Restrictions in New York.~[6] The early ordinances of the Dutch, laying duties, generally of ten per cent, on slaves, probably proved burdensome to the trade, although this was not intentional.[7] The Biblical prohibition of slavery and the slave-trade, copied from New England codes into the Duke of York's Laws, had no practical application,[8] and the trade continued to be encouraged in the governors' instructions. In 1709 a duty of £3 was laid on Negroes from elsewhere than Africa.[9] This was aimed at West India slaves, and was prohibitive. By 1716 the duty on all slaves was £1 12½_s._, which was probably a mere revenue figure.[10] In 1728 a duty of 40_s._ was laid, to be continued until 1737.[11] It proved restrictive, however, and on the "humble petition of the Merchants and Traders of the City of Bristol" was disallowed in 1735, as "greatly prejudicial to the Trade and Navigation of this Kingdom."[12] Governor Cosby was also reminded that no duties on slaves payable by the importer were to be laid. Later, in 1753, the 40_s._ duty was restored, but under the increased trade of those days was not felt.[13] No further restrictions seem to have been attempted until 1785, when the sale of slaves in the State was forbidden.[14] The chief element of restriction in this colony appears to have been the shrewd business sense of the traders, who never flooded the slave market, but kept a supply sufficient for the slowly growing demand. Between 1701 and 1726 only about 2,375 slaves were imported, and in 1774 the total slave population amounted to 21,149.[15] No restriction was ever put by New York on participation in the trade outside the colony, and in spite of national laws New York merchants continued to be engaged in this traffic even down to the Civil War.[16] Vermont, who withdrew from New York in 1777, in her first Constitution[17] declared slavery illegal, and in 1786 stopped by law the sale and transportation of slaves within her boundaries.[18] 13. ~Restrictions in Pennsylvania and Delaware.~[19] One of the first American protests against the slave-trade came from certain German Friends, in 1688, at a Weekly Meeting held in Germantown, Pennsylvania. "These are the reasons," wrote "Garret henderich, derick up de graeff, Francis daniell Pastorius, and Abraham up Den graef," "why we are against the traffick of men-body, as followeth: Is there any that would be done or handled at this manner?... Now, tho they are black, we cannot conceive there is more liberty to have them slaves, as it is to have other white ones. There is a saying, that we shall doe to all men like as we will be done ourselves; making no difference of what generation, descent or colour they are. And those who steal or robb men, and those who buy or purchase them, are they not all alike?"[20] This little leaven helped slowly to work a revolution in the attitude of this great sect toward slavery and the slave-trade. The Yearly Meeting at first postponed the matter, "It having so General a Relation to many other Parts."[21] Eventually, however, in 1696, the Yearly Meeting advised "That Friends be careful not to encourage the bringing in of any more Negroes."[22] This advice was repeated in stronger terms for a quarter-century,[23] and by that time Sandiford, Benezet, Lay, and Woolman had begun their crusade. In 1754 the Friends took a step farther and made the purchase of slaves a matter of discipline.[24] Four years later the Yearly Meeting expressed itself clearly as "against every branch of this practice," and declared that if "any professing with us should persist to vindicate it, and be concerned in importing, selling or purchasing slaves, the respective Monthly Meetings to which they belong should manifest their disunion with such persons."[25] Further, manumission was recommended, and in 1776 made compulsory.[26] The effect of this attitude of the Friends was early manifested in the legislation of all the colonies where the sect was influential, and particularly in Pennsylvania. One of the first duty acts (1710) laid a restrictive duty of 40_s._ on slaves, and was eventually disallowed.[27] In 1712 William Southeby petitioned the Assembly totally to abolish slavery. This the Assembly naturally refused to attempt; but the same year, in response to another petition "signed by many hands," they passed an "Act to prevent the Importation of Negroes and Indians,"[28]--the first enactment of its kind in America. This act was inspired largely by the general fear of insurrection which succeeded the "Negro-plot" of 1712 in New York. It declared: "Whereas, divers Plots and Insurrections have frequently happened, not only in the Islands but on the Main Land of _America_, by Negroes, which have been carried on so far that several of the inhabitants have been barbarously Murthered, an Instance whereof we have lately had in our Neighboring Colony of _New York_,"[29] etc. It then proceeded to lay a prohibitive duty of £20 on all slaves imported. These acts were quickly disposed of in England. Three duty acts affecting Negroes, including the prohibitory act, were in 1713 disallowed, and it was directed that "the Dep^{ty} Gov^{r} Council and Assembly of Pensilvania, be & they are hereby Strictly Enjoyned & required not to permit the said Laws ... to be from henceforward put in Execution."[30] The Assembly repealed these laws, but in 1715 passed another laying a duty of £5, which was also eventually disallowed.[31] Other acts, the provisions of which are not clear, were passed in 1720 and 1722,[32] and in 1725-1726 the duty on Negroes was raised to the restrictive figure of £10.[33] This duty, for some reason not apparent, was lowered to £2 in 1729,[34] but restored again in 1761.[35] A struggle occurred over this last measure, the Friends petitioning for it, and the Philadelphia merchants against it, declaring that "We, the subscribers, ever desirous to extend the Trade of this Province, have seen, for some time past, the many inconveniencys the Inhabitants have suffer'd for want of Labourers and artificers, ... have for some time encouraged the importation of Negroes;" they prayed therefore at least for a delay in passing the measure.[36] The law, nevertheless, after much debate and altercation with the governor, finally passed. These repeated acts nearly stopped the trade, and the manumission or sale of Negroes by the Friends decreased the number of slaves in the province. The rising spirit of independence enabled the colony, in 1773, to restore the prohibitive duty of £20 and make it perpetual.[37] After the Revolution unpaid duties on slaves were collected and the slaves registered,[38] and in 1780 an "Act for the gradual Abolition of Slavery" was passed.[39] As there were probably at no time before the war more than 11,000 slaves in Pennsylvania,[40] the task thus accomplished was not so formidable as in many other States. As it was, participation in the slave-trade outside the colony was not prohibited until 1788.[41] It seems probable that in the original Swedish settlements along the Delaware slavery was prohibited.[42] This measure had, however, little practical effect; for as soon as the Dutch got control the slave-trade was opened, although, as it appears, to no large extent. After the fall of the Dutch Delaware came into English hands. Not until 1775 do we find any legislation on the slave-trade. In that year the colony attempted to prohibit the importation of slaves, but the governor vetoed the bill.[43] Finally, in 1776 by the Constitution, and in 1787 by law, importation and exportation were both prohibited.[44] 14. ~Restrictions in New Jersey.~[45] Although the freeholders of West New Jersey declared, in 1676, that "all and every Person and Persons Inhabiting the said Province, shall, as far as in us lies, be free from Oppression and Slavery,"[46] yet Negro slaves are early found in the colony.[47] The first restrictive measure was passed, after considerable friction between the Council and the House, in 1713; it laid a duty of £10, currency.[48] Governor Hunter explained to the Board of Trade that the bill was "calculated to Encourage the Importation of white Servants for the better Peopeling that Country."[49] How long this act continued does not appear; probably, not long. No further legislation was enacted until 1762 or 1763, when a prohibitive duty was laid on account of "the inconvenience the Province is exposed to in lying open to the free importation of Negros, when the Provinces on each side have laid duties on them."[50] The Board of Trade declared that while they did not object to "the Policy of imposing a reasonable duty," they could not assent to this, and the act was disallowed.[51] The Act of 1769 evaded the technical objection of the Board of Trade, and laid a duty of £15 on the first purchasers of Negroes, because, as the act declared, "Duties on the Importation of Negroes in several of the neighbouring Colonies hath, on Experience, been found beneficial in the Introduction of sober, industrious Foreigners."[52] In 1774 a bill which, according to the report of the Council to Governor Morris, "plainly intended an entire Prohibition of all Slaves being imported from foreign Parts," was thrown out by the Council.[53] Importation was finally prohibited in 1786.[54] 15. ~General Character of these Restrictions.~ The main difference in motive between the restrictions which the planting and the farming colonies put on the African slave-trade, lay in the fact that the former limited it mainly from fear of insurrection, the latter mainly because it did not pay. Naturally, the latter motive worked itself out with much less legislation than the former; for this reason, and because they held a smaller number of slaves, most of these colonies have fewer actual statutes than the Southern colonies. In Pennsylvania alone did this general economic revolt against the trade acquire a distinct moral tinge. Although even here the institution was naturally doomed, yet the clear moral insight of the Quakers checked the trade much earlier than would otherwise have happened. We may say, then, that the farming colonies checked the slave-trade primarily from economic motives. FOOTNOTES: [1] Smith, _Generall Historie of Virginia_ (1626 and 1632), p. 126. [2] Cf. Southey, _History of Brazil_. [3] De Laet, in O'Callaghan, _Voyages of the Slavers_, etc., p. viii. [4] See, e.g., Sainsbury, _Cal. State Papers; Col. Ser., America and W. Indies, 1574-1660_, p. 279. [5] Cf. below, pp. 27, 32, notes; also _Freedoms_, XXX., in O'Callaghan, _Laws of New Netherland, 1638-74_ (ed. 1868), p. 10; Brodhead, _History of New York_, I. 312. [6] The following is a summary of the legislation of the colony of New York; details will be found in Appendix A:-- 1709, Duty Act: £3 on Negroes not direct from Africa (Continued by the Acts of 1710, 1711). 1711, Bill to lay further duty, lost in Council. 1716, Duty Act: 5 oz. plate on Africans in colony ships. 10 oz. plate on Africans in other ships. 1728, " " 40_s._ on Africans, £4 on colonial Negroes. 1732, " " 40_s._ on Africans, £4 on colonial Negroes. 1734, " " (?) 1753, " " 40_s._ on Africans, £4 on colonial Negroes. (This act was annually continued.) [1777, Vermont Constitution does not recognize slavery.] 1785, Sale of slaves in State prohibited. [1786, " " in Vermont prohibited.] 1788, " " in State prohibited. [7] O'Callaghan, _Laws of New Netherland, 1638-74_, pp. 31, 348, etc. The colonists themselves were encouraged to trade, but the terms were not favorable enough: _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, I. 246; _Laws of New Netherland_, pp. 81-2, note, 127. The colonists declared "that they are inclined to a foreign Trade, and especially to the Coast of _Africa_, ... in order to fetch thence Slaves": O'Callaghan, _Voyages of the Slavers_, etc., p. 172. [8] _Charter to William Penn_, etc. (1879), p. 12. First published on Long Island in 1664. Possibly Negro slaves were explicitly excepted. Cf. _Magazine of American History_, XI. 411, and _N.Y. Hist. Soc. Coll._, I. 322. [9] _Acts of Assembly, 1691-1718_, pp. 97, 125, 134; _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, V. 178, 185, 293. [10] The Assembly attempted to raise the slave duty in 1711, but the Council objected (_Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, V. 292 ff.), although, as it seems, not on account of the slave duty in particular. Another act was passed between 1711 and 1716, but its contents are not known (cf. title of the Act of 1716). For the Act of 1716, see _Acts of Assembly, 1691-1718_, p. 224. [11] _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VI. 37, 38. [12] _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VI. 32-4. [13] _Ibid._, VII. 907. This act was annually renewed. The slave duty remained a chief source of revenue down to 1774. Cf. _Report of Governor Tryon_, in _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VIII. 452. [14] _Laws of New York, 1785-88_ (ed. 1886), ch. 68, p. 121. Substantially the same act reappears in the revision of the laws of 1788: _Ibid._, ch. 40, p. 676. [15] The slave population of New York has been estimated as follows:-- In 1698, 2,170. _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, IV. 420. " 1703, 2,258. _N.Y. Col. MSS._, XLVIII.; cited in Hough, _N.Y. Census, 1855_, Introd. " 1712, 2,425. _Ibid._, LVII., LIX. (a partial census). " 1723, 6,171. _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, V. 702. " 1731, 7,743. _Ibid._, V. 929. " 1737, 8,941. _Ibid._, VI. 133. " 1746, 9,107. _Ibid._, VI. 392. " 1749, 10,692. _Ibid._, VI. 550. " 1756, 13,548. _London Doc._, XLIV. 123; cited in Hough, as above. " 1771, 19,863. _Ibid._, XLIV. 144; cited in Hough, as above. " 1774, 21,149. _Ibid._, " " " " " " 1786, 18,889. _Deeds in office Sec. of State_, XXII. 35. Total number of Africans imported from 1701 to 1726, 2,375, of whom 802 were from Africa: O'Callaghan, _Documentary History of New York_, I. 482. [16] Cf. below, Chapter XI. [17] _Vermont State Papers, 1779-86_, p. 244. The return of sixteen slaves in Vermont, by the first census, was an error: _New England Record_, XXIX. 249. [18] _Vermont State Papers_, p. 505. [19] The following is a summary of the legislation of the colony of Pennsylvania and Delaware; details will be found in Appendix A:-- 1705, Duty Act: (?). 1710, " " 40_s._ (Disallowed). 1712, " " £20 " 1712, " " supplementary to the Act of 1710. 1715, " " £5 (Disallowed). 1718, " " 1720, " " (?). 1722, " " (?). 1725-6, " " £10. 1726, " " 1729, " " £2. 1761, " " £10. 1761, " " (?). 1768, " " re-enactment of the Act of 1761. 1773, " " perpetual additional duty of £10; total, £20. 1775, Bill to prohibit importation vetoed by the governor (Delaware). 1775, Bill to prohibit importation vetoed by the governor. 1778, Back duties on slaves ordered collected. 1780, Act for the gradual abolition of slavery. 1787, Act to prevent the exportation of slaves (Delaware). 1788, Act to prevent the slave-trade. [20] From fac-simile copy, published at Germantown in 1880. Cf. Whittier's poem, "Pennsylvania Hall" (_Poetical Works_, Riverside ed., III. 62); and Proud, _History of Pennsylvania_ (1797), I. 219. [21] From fac-simile copy, published at Germantown in 1880. [22] Bettle, _Notices of Negro Slavery_, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._ (1864), I. 383. [23] Cf. Bettle, _Notices of Negro Slavery, passim_. [24] Janney, _History of the Friends_, III. 315-7. [25] _Ibid._, III. 317. [26] Bettle, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._, I. 395. [27] _Penn. Col. Rec._ (1852), II. 530; Bettle, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._, I. 415. [28] _Laws of Pennsylvania, collected_, etc., 1714, p. 165; Bettle, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._, I. 387. [29] See preamble of the act. [30] The Pennsylvanians did not allow their laws to reach England until long after they were passed: _Penn. Archives_, I. 161-2; _Col. Rec._, II. 572-3. These acts were disallowed Feb. 20, 1713. Another duty act was passed in 1712, supplementary to the Act of 1710 (_Col. Rec._, II. 553). The contents are unknown. [31] _Acts and Laws of Pennsylvania_, 1715, p. 270; Chalmers, _Opinions_, II. 118. Before the disallowance was known, the act had been continued by the Act of 1718: Carey and Bioren, _Laws of Pennsylvania, 1700-1802_, I. 118; _Penn. Col. Rec._, III. 38. [32] Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 165; _Penn. Col. Rec._, III. 171; Bettle, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._, I. 389, note. [33] Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 214; Bettle, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._, I. 388. Possibly there were two acts this year. [34] _Laws of Pennsylvania_ (ed. 1742), p. 354, ch. 287. Possibly some change in the currency made this change appear greater than it was. [35] Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 371; _Acts of Assembly_ (ed. 1782), p. 149; Dallas, _Laws_, I. 406, ch. 379. This act was renewed in 1768: Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 451; _Penn. Col. Rec._, IX. 472, 637, 641. [36] _Penn. Col. Rec._, VIII. 576. [37] A large petition called for this bill. Much altercation ensued with the governor: Dallas, _Laws_, I. 671, ch. 692; _Penn. Col. Rec._, X. 77; Bettle, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._, I. 388-9. [38] Dallas, _Laws_, I. 782, ch. 810. [39] _Ibid._, I. 838, ch. 881. [40] There exist but few estimates of the number of slaves in this colony:-- In 1721, 2,500-5,000. _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, V. 604. " 1754, 11,000. Bancroft, _Hist. of United States_ (1883), II. 391. " 1760, very few." Burnaby, _Travels through N. Amer._ (2d ed.), p. 81. " 1775, 2,000. _Penn. Archives_, IV 597. [41] Dallas, _Laws_, II. 586. [42] Cf. _Argonautica Gustaviana_, pp. 21-3; _Del. Hist. Soc. Papers_, III. 10; _Hazard's Register_, IV. 221, §§ 23, 24; _Hazard's Annals_, p. 372; Armstrong, _Record of Upland Court_, pp. 29-30, and notes. [43] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., II. 128-9. [44] _Ibid._, 5th Ser., I. 1178; _Laws of Delaware, 1797_ (Newcastle ed.), p. 884, ch. 145 b. [45] The following is a summary of the legislation of the colony of New Jersey; details will be found in Appendix A:-- 1713, Duty Act: £10. 1763 (?), Duty Act. 1769, " " £15. 1774, " " £5 on Africans, £10 on colonial Negroes. 1786, Importation prohibited. [46] Leaming and Spicer, _Grants, Concessions_, etc., p. 398. Probably this did not refer to Negroes at all. [47] Cf. Vincent, _History of Delaware_, I. 159, 381. [48] _Laws and Acts of New Jersey, 1703-17_ (ed. 1717), p. 43. [49] _N.J. Archives_, IV. 196. There was much difficulty in passing the bill: _Ibid._, XIII. 516-41. [50] _Ibid._, IX. 345-6. The exact provisions of the act I have not found. [51] _Ibid._, IX. 383, 447, 458. Chiefly because the duty was laid on the importer. [52] Allinson, _Acts of Assembly_, pp. 315-6. [53] _N.J. Archives_, VI. 222. [54] _Acts of the 10th General Assembly_, May 2, 1786. There are two estimates of the number of slaves in this colony:-- In 1738, 3,981. _American Annals_, II. 127. " 1754, 4,606. " " II. 143. * * * * * _Chapter IV_ THE TRADING COLONIES. 16. Character of these Colonies. 17. New England and the Slave-Trade. 18. Restrictions in New Hampshire. 19. Restrictions in Massachusetts. 20. Restrictions in Rhode Island. 21. Restrictions in Connecticut. 22. General Character of these Restrictions. 16. ~Character of these Colonies.~ The rigorous climate of New England, the character of her settlers, and their pronounced political views gave slavery an even slighter basis here than in the Middle colonies. The significance of New England in the African slave-trade does not therefore lie in the fact that she early discountenanced the system of slavery and stopped importation; but rather in the fact that her citizens, being the traders of the New World, early took part in the carrying slave-trade and furnished slaves to the other colonies. An inquiry, therefore, into the efforts of the New England colonies to suppress the slave-trade would fall naturally into two parts: first, and chiefly, an investigation of the efforts to stop the participation of citizens in the carrying slave-trade; secondly, an examination of the efforts made to banish the slave-trade from New England soil. 17. ~New England and the Slave-Trade.~ Vessels from Massachusetts,[1] Rhode Island,[2] Connecticut,[3] and, to a less extent, from New Hampshire,[4] were early and largely engaged in the carrying slave-trade. "We know," said Thomas Pemberton in 1795, "that a large trade to Guinea was carried on for many years by the citizens of Massachusetts Colony, who were the proprietors of the vessels and their cargoes, out and home. Some of the slaves purchased in Guinea, and I suppose the greatest part of them, were sold in the West Indies."[5] Dr. John Eliot asserted that "it made a considerable branch of our commerce.... It declined very little till the Revolution."[6] Yet the trade of this colony was said not to equal that of Rhode Island. Newport was the mart for slaves offered for sale in the North, and a point of reshipment for all slaves. It was principally this trade that raised Newport to her commercial importance in the eighteenth century.[7] Connecticut, too, was an important slave-trader, sending large numbers of horses and other commodities to the West Indies in exchange for slaves, and selling the slaves in other colonies. This trade formed a perfect circle. Owners of slavers carried slaves to South Carolina, and brought home naval stores for their ship-building; or to the West Indies, and brought home molasses; or to other colonies, and brought home hogsheads. The molasses was made into the highly prized New England rum, and shipped in these hogsheads to Africa for more slaves.[8] Thus, the rum-distilling industry indicates to some extent the activity of New England in the slave-trade. In May, 1752, one Captain Freeman found so many slavers fitting out that, in spite of the large importations of molasses, he could get no rum for his vessel.[9] In Newport alone twenty-two stills were at one time running continuously;[10] and Massachusetts annually distilled 15,000 hogsheads of molasses into this "chief manufacture."[11] Turning now to restrictive measures, we must first note the measures of the slave-consuming colonies which tended to limit the trade. These measures, however, came comparatively late, were enforced with varying degrees of efficiency, and did not seriously affect the slave-trade before the Revolution. The moral sentiment of New England put some check upon the trade. Although in earlier times the most respectable people took ventures in slave-trading voyages, yet there gradually arose a moral sentiment which tended to make the business somewhat disreputable.[12] In the line, however, of definite legal enactments to stop New England citizens from carrying slaves from Africa to any place in the world, there were, before the Revolution, none. Indeed, not until the years 1787-1788 was slave-trading in itself an indictable offence in any New England State. The particular situation in each colony, and the efforts to restrict the small importing slave-trade of New England, can best be studied in a separate view of each community. 18. ~Restrictions in New Hampshire.~ The statistics of slavery in New Hampshire show how weak an institution it always was in that colony.[13] Consequently, when the usual instructions were sent to Governor Wentworth as to the encouragement he must give to the slave-trade, the House replied: "We have considered his Maj^{ties} Instruction relating to an Impost on Negroes & Felons, to which this House answers, that there never was any duties laid on either, by this Goverm^{t}, and so few bro't in that it would not be worth the Publick notice, so as to make an act concerning them."[14] This remained true for the whole history of the colony. Importation was never stopped by actual enactment, but was eventually declared contrary to the Constitution of 1784.[15] The participation of citizens in the trade appears never to have been forbidden. 19. ~Restrictions in Massachusetts.~ The early Biblical codes of Massachusetts confined slavery to "lawfull Captives taken in iust warres, & such strangers as willingly selle themselves or are sold to us."[16] The stern Puritanism of early days endeavored to carry this out literally, and consequently when a certain Captain Smith, about 1640, attacked an African village and brought some of the unoffending natives home, he was promptly arrested. Eventually, the General Court ordered the Negroes sent home at the colony's expense, "conceiving themselues bound by y^e first oportunity to bear witnes against y^e haynos & crying sinn of manstealing, as also to P'scribe such timely redresse for what is past, & such a law for y^e future as may sufficiently deterr all oth^{r}s belonging to us to have to do in such vile & most odious courses, iustly abhored of all good & iust men."[17] The temptation of trade slowly forced the colony from this high moral ground. New England ships were early found in the West Indian slave-trade, and the more the carrying trade developed, the more did the profits of this branch of it attract Puritan captains. By the beginning of the eighteenth century the slave-trade was openly recognized as legitimate commerce; cargoes came regularly to Boston, and "The merchants of Boston quoted negroes, like any other merchandise demanded by their correspondents."[18] At the same time, the Puritan conscience began to rebel against the growth of actual slavery on New England soil. It was a much less violent wrenching of moral ideas of right and wrong to allow Massachusetts men to carry slaves to South Carolina than to allow cargoes to come into Boston, and become slaves in Massachusetts. Early in the eighteenth century, therefore, opposition arose to the further importation of Negroes, and in 1705 an act "for the Better Preventing of a Spurious and Mixt Issue," laid a restrictive duty of £4 on all slaves imported.[19] One provision of this act plainly illustrates the attitude of Massachusetts: like the acts of many of the New England colonies, it allowed a rebate of the whole duty on re-exportation. The harbors of New England were thus offered as a free exchange-mart for slavers. All the duty acts of the Southern and Middle colonies allowed a rebate of one-half or three-fourths of the duty on the re-exportation of the slave, thus laying a small tax on even temporary importation. The Act of 1705 was evaded, but it was not amended until 1728, when the penalty for evasion was raised to £100.[20] The act remained in force, except possibly for one period of four years, until 1749. Meantime the movement against importation grew. A bill "for preventing the Importation of Slaves into this Province" was introduced in the Legislature in 1767, but after strong opposition and disagreement between House and Council it was dropped.[21] In 1771 the struggle was renewed. A similar bill passed, but was vetoed by Governor Hutchinson.[22] The imminent war and the discussions incident to it had now more and more aroused public opinion, and there were repeated attempts to gain executive consent to a prohibitory law. In 1774 such a bill was twice passed, but never received assent.[23] The new Revolutionary government first met the subject in the case of two Negroes captured on the high seas, who were advertised for sale at Salem. A resolution was introduced into the Legislature, directing the release of the Negroes, and declaring "That the selling and enslaving the human species is a direct violation of the natural rights alike vested in all men by their Creator, and utterly inconsistent with the avowed principles on which this, and the other United States, have carried their struggle for liberty even to the last appeal." To this the Council would not consent; and the resolution, as finally passed, merely forbade the sale or ill-treatment of the Negroes.[24] Committees on the slavery question were appointed in 1776 and 1777,[25] and although a letter to Congress on the matter, and a bill for the abolition of slavery were reported, no decisive action was taken. All such efforts were finally discontinued, as the system was already practically extinct in Massachusetts and the custom of importation had nearly ceased. Slavery was eventually declared by judicial decision to have been abolished.[26] The first step toward stopping the participation of Massachusetts citizens in the slave-trade outside the State was taken in 1785, when a committee of inquiry was appointed by the Legislature.[27] No act was, however, passed until 1788, when participation in the trade was prohibited, on pain of £50 forfeit for every slave and £200 for every ship engaged.[28] 20. ~Restrictions in Rhode Island.~ In 1652 Rhode Island passed a law designed to prohibit life slavery in the colony. It declared that "Whereas, there is a common course practised amongst English men to buy negers, to that end they may have them for service or slaves forever; for the preventinge of such practices among us, let it be ordered, that no blacke mankind or white being forced by covenant bond, or otherwise, to serve any man or his assighnes longer than ten yeares, or untill they come to bee twentie four yeares of age, if they bee taken in under fourteen, from the time of their cominge within the liberties of this Collonie. And at the end or terme of ten yeares to sett them free, as the manner is with the English servants. And that man that will not let them goe free, or shall sell them away elsewhere, to that end that they may bee enslaved to others for a long time, hee or they shall forfeit to the Collonie forty pounds."[29] This law was for a time enforced,[30] but by the beginning of the eighteenth century it had either been repealed or become a dead letter; for the Act of 1708 recognized perpetual slavery, and laid an impost of £3 on Negroes imported.[31] This duty was really a tax on the transport trade, and produced a steady income for twenty years.[32] From the year 1700 on, the citizens of this State engaged more and more in the carrying trade, until Rhode Island became the greatest slave-trader in America. Although she did not import many slaves for her own use, she became the clearing-house for the trade of other colonies. Governor Cranston, as early as 1708, reported that between 1698 and 1708 one hundred and three vessels were built in the State, all of which were trading to the West Indies and the Southern colonies.[33] They took out lumber and brought back molasses, in most cases making a slave voyage in between. From this, the trade grew. Samuel Hopkins, about 1770, was shocked at the state of the trade: more than thirty distilleries were running in the colony, and one hundred and fifty vessels were in the slave-trade.[34] "Rhode Island," said he, "has been more deeply interested in the slave-trade, and has enslaved more Africans than any other colony in New England." Later, in 1787, he wrote: "The inhabitants of Rhode Island, especially those of Newport, have had by far the greater share in this traffic, of all these United States. This trade in human species has been the first wheel of commerce in Newport, on which every other movement in business has chiefly depended. That town has been built up, and flourished in times past, at the expense of the blood, the liberty, and happiness of the poor Africans; and the inhabitants have lived on this, and by it have gotten most of their wealth and riches."[35] The Act of 1708 was poorly enforced. The "good intentions" of its framers "were wholly frustrated" by the clandestine "hiding and conveying said negroes out of the town [Newport] into the country, where they lie concealed."[36] The act was accordingly strengthened by the Acts of 1712 and 1715, and made to apply to importations by land as well as by sea.[37] The Act of 1715, however, favored the trade by admitting African Negroes free of duty. The chaotic state of Rhode Island did not allow England often to review her legislation; but as soon as the Act of 1712 came to notice it was disallowed, and accordingly repealed in 1732.[38] Whether the Act of 1715 remained, or whether any other duty act was passed, is not clear. While the foreign trade was flourishing, the influence of the Friends and of other causes eventually led to a movement against slavery as a local institution. Abolition societies multiplied, and in 1770 an abolition bill was ordered by the Assembly, but it was never passed.[39] Four years later the city of Providence resolved that "as personal liberty is an essential part of the natural rights of mankind," the importation of slaves and the system of slavery should cease in the colony.[40] This movement finally resulted, in 1774, in an act "prohibiting the importation of Negroes into this Colony,"--a law which curiously illustrated the attitude of Rhode Island toward the slave-trade. The preamble of the act declared: "Whereas, the inhabitants of America are generally engaged in the preservation of their own rights and liberties, among which, that of personal freedom must be considered as the greatest; as those who are desirous of enjoying all the advantages of liberty themselves, should be willing to extend personal liberty to others;--Therefore," etc. The statute then proceeded to enact "that for the future, no negro or mulatto slave shall be brought into this colony; and in case any slave shall hereafter be brought in, he or she shall be, and are hereby, rendered immediately free...." The logical ending of such an act would have been a clause prohibiting the participation of Rhode Island citizens in the slave-trade. Not only was such a clause omitted, but the following was inserted instead: "Provided, also, that nothing in this act shall extend, or be deemed to extend, to any negro or mulatto slave brought from the coast of Africa, into the West Indies, on board any vessel belonging to this colony, and which negro or mulatto slave could not be disposed of in the West Indies, but shall be brought into this colony. Provided, that the owner of such negro or mulatto slave give bond ... that such negro or mulatto slave shall be exported out of the colony, within one year from the date of such bond; if such negro or mulatto be alive, and in a condition to be removed."[41] In 1779 an act to prevent the sale of slaves out of the State was passed,[42] and in 1784, an act gradually to abolish slavery.[43] Not until 1787 did an act pass to forbid participation in the slave-trade. This law laid a penalty of £100 for every slave transported and £1000 for every vessel so engaged.[44] 21. ~Restrictions in Connecticut.~ Connecticut, in common with the other colonies of this section, had a trade for many years with the West Indian slave markets; and though this trade was much smaller than that of the neighboring colonies, yet many of her citizens were engaged in it. A map of Middletown at the time of the Revolution gives, among one hundred families, three slave captains and "three notables" designated as "slave-dealers."[45] The actual importation was small,[46] and almost entirely unrestricted before the Revolution, save by a few light, general duty acts. In 1774 the further importation of slaves was prohibited, because "the increase of slaves in this Colony is injurious to the poor and inconvenient." The law prohibited importation under any pretext by a penalty of £100 per slave.[47] This was re-enacted in 1784, and provisions were made for the abolition of slavery.[48] In 1788 participation in the trade was forbidden, and the penalty placed at £50 for each slave and £500 for each ship engaged.[49] 22. ~General Character of these Restrictions.~ Enough has already been said to show, in the main, the character of the opposition to the slave-trade in New England. The system of slavery had, on this soil and amid these surroundings, no economic justification, and the small number of Negroes here furnished no political arguments against them. The opposition to the importation was therefore from the first based solely on moral grounds, with some social arguments. As to the carrying trade, however, the case was different. Here, too, a feeble moral opposition was early aroused, but it was swept away by the immense economic advantages of the slave traffic to a thrifty seafaring community of traders. This trade no moral suasion, not even the strong "Liberty" cry of the Revolution, was able wholly to suppress, until the closing of the West Indian and Southern markets cut off the demand for slaves. FOOTNOTES: [1] Cf. Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, II. 449-72; G.H. Moore, _Slavery in Massachusetts_; Charles Deane, _Connection of Massachusetts with Slavery_. [2] Cf. _American Historical Record_, I. 311, 338. [3] Cf. W.C. Fowler, _Local Law in Massachusetts and Connecticut_, etc., pp. 122-6. [4] _Ibid._, p. 124. [5] Deane, _Letters and Documents relating to Slavery in Massachusetts_, in _Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll._, 5th Ser., III. 392. [6] _Ibid._, III. 382. [7] Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, II. 454. [8] A typical voyage is that of the brigantine "Sanderson" of Newport. She was fitted out in March, 1752, and carried, beside the captain, two mates and six men, and a cargo of 8,220 gallons of rum, together with "African" iron, flour, pots, tar, sugar, and provisions, shackles, shirts, and water. Proceeding to Africa, the captain after some difficulty sold his cargo for slaves, and in April, 1753, he is expected in Barbadoes, as the consignees write. They also state that slaves are selling at £33 to £56 per head in lots. After a stormy and dangerous voyage, Captain Lindsay arrived, June 17, 1753, with fifty-six slaves, "all in helth & fatt." He also had 40 oz. of gold dust, and 8 or 9 cwt. of pepper. The net proceeds of the sale of all this was £1,324 3_d._ The captain then took on board 55 hhd. of molasses and 3 hhd. 27 bbl. of sugar, amounting to £911 77_s._ 2½_d._, received bills on Liverpool for the balance, and returned in safety to Rhode Island. He had done so well that he was immediately given a new ship and sent to Africa again. _American Historical Record_, I. 315-9, 338-42. [9] _Ibid._, I. 316. [10] _American Historical Record_, I. 317. [11] _Ibid._, I. 344; cf. Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, II. 459. [12] Cf. _New England Register_, XXXI. 75-6, letter of John Saffin _et al._ to Welstead. Cf. also Sewall, _Protest_, etc. [13] The number of slaves in New Hampshire has been estimated as follows: In 1730, 200. _N.H. Hist. Soc. Coll._, I. 229. " 1767, 633. _Granite Monthly_, IV. 108. " 1773, 681. _Ibid._ " 1773, 674. _N.H. Province Papers_, X. 636. " 1775, 479. _Granite Monthly_, IV. 108. " 1790, 158. _Ibid._ [14] _N.H. Province Papers_, IV. 617. [15] _Granite Monthly_, VI. 377; Poore, _Federal and State Constitutions_, pp. 1280-1. [16] Cf. _The Body of Liberties_, § 91, in Whitmore, _Bibliographical Sketch of the Laws of the Massachusetts Colony_, published at Boston in 1890. [17] _Mass. Col. Rec._, II. 168, 176; III. 46, 49, 84. [18] Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, II. 456. [19] _Mass. Province Laws, 1705-6_, ch. 10. [20] _Ibid._, _1728-9_, ch. 16; _1738-9_, ch. 27. [21] For petitions of towns, cf. Felt, _Annals of Salem_ (1849), II. 416; _Boston Town Records, 1758-69_, p. 183. Cf. also Otis's anti-slavery speech in 1761; John Adams, _Works_, X. 315. For proceedings, see _House Journal_, 1767, pp. 353, 358, 387, 390, 393, 408, 409-10, 411, 420. Cf. Samuel Dexter's answer to Dr. Belknap's inquiry, Feb. 23, 1795, in Deane (_Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll._, 5th Ser., III. 385). A committee on slave importation was appointed in 1764. Cf. _House Journal_, 1763-64, p. 170. [22] _House Journal_, 1771, pp. 211, 215, 219, 228, 234, 236, 240, 242-3; Moore, _Slavery in Massachusetts_, pp. 131-2. [23] Felt, _Annals of Salem_ (1849), II. 416-7; Swan, _Dissuasion to Great Britain_, etc. (1773), p. x; Washburn, _Historical Sketches of Leicester, Mass._, pp. 442-3; Freeman, _History of Cape Cod_, II. 114; Deane, in _Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll._, 5th Ser., III. 432; Moore, _Slavery in Massachusetts_, pp. 135-40; Williams, _History of the Negro Race in America_, I. 234-6; _House Journal_, March, 1774, pp. 224, 226, 237, etc.; June, 1774, pp. 27, 41, etc. For a copy of the bill, see Moore. [24] _Mass. Hist. Soc. Proceedings, 1855-58_, p. 196; Force, _American Archives_, 5th Ser., II. 769; _House Journal_, 1776, pp. 105-9; _General Court Records_, March 13, 1776, etc., pp. 581-9; Moore, _Slavery in Massachusetts_, pp. 149-54. Cf. Moore, pp. 163-76. [25] Moore, _Slavery in Massachusetts_, pp. 148-9, 181-5. [26] Washburn, _Extinction of Slavery in Massachusetts_; Haynes, _Struggle for the Constitution in Massachusetts_; La Rochefoucauld, _Travels through the United States_, II. 166. [27] Moore, _Slavery in Massachusetts_, p. 225. [28] _Perpetual Laws of Massachusetts, 1780-89_, p. 235. The number of slaves in Massachusetts has been estimated as follows:-- In 1676, 200. Randolph's _Report_, in _Hutchinson's Coll. of Papers_, p. 485. " 1680, 120. Deane, _Connection of Mass. with Slavery_, p. 28 ff. " 1708, 550. _Ibid._; Moore, _Slavery in Mass._, p. 50. " 1720, 2,000. _Ibid._ " 1735, 2,600. Deane, _Connection of Mass. with Slavery_, p. 28 ff. " 1749, 3,000. _Ibid._ " 1754, 4,489. _Ibid._ " 1763, 5,000. _Ibid._ " 1764-5, 5,779. _Ibid._ " 1776, 5,249. _Ibid._ " 1784, 4,377. Moore, _Slavery in Mass._, p. 51. " 1786, 4,371. _Ibid._ " 1790, 6,001. _Ibid._ [29] _R.I. Col. Rec._, I. 240. [30] Cf. letter written in 1681: _New England Register_, XXXI. 75-6. Cf. also Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_, I. 240. [31] The text of this act is lost (_Col. Rec._, IV. 34; Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_, II. 31). The Acts of Rhode Island were not well preserved, the first being published in Boston in 1719. Perhaps other whole acts are lost. [32] E.g., it was expended to pave the streets of Newport, to build bridges, etc.: _R.I. Col. Rec._, IV. 191-3, 225. [33] _Ibid._, IV. 55-60. [34] Patten, _Reminiscences of Samuel Hopkins_ (1843), p. 80. [35] Hopkins, _Works_ (1854), II. 615. [36] Preamble of the Act of 1712. [37] _R.I. Col. Rec._, IV. 131-5, 138, 143, 191-3. [38] _R.I. Col. Rec._, IV. 471. [39] Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_, II. 304, 321, 337. For a probable copy of the bill, see _Narragansett Historical Register_, II. 299. [40] A man dying intestate left slaves, who became thus the property of the city; they were freed, and the town made the above resolve, May 17, 1774, in town meeting: Staples, _Annals of Providence_ (1843), p. 236. [41] _R.I. Col. Rec._, VII. 251-2. [42] _Bartlett's Index_, p. 329; Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_, II. 444; _R.I. Col. Rec._, VIII. 618. [43] _R.I. Col. Rec._, X. 7-8; Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_, II. 506. [44] _Bartlett's Index_, p. 333; _Narragansett Historical Register_, II. 298-9. The number of slaves in Rhode Island has been estimated as follows:-- In 1708, 426. _R.I. Col. Rec._, IV. 59. " 1730, 1,648. _R.I. Hist. Tracts_, No. 19, pt. 2, p. 99. " 1749, 3,077. Williams, _History of the Negro Race in America_, I. 281. " 1756, 4,697. _Ibid._ " 1774, 3,761. _R.I. Col. Rec._, VII. 253. [45] Fowler, _Local Law_, etc., p. 124. [46] The number of slaves in Connecticut has been estimated as follows:-- In 1680, 30. _Conn. Col. Rec._, III. 298. " 1730, 700. Williams, _History of the Negro Race in America_, I. 259. " 1756, 3,636. Fowler, _Local Law_, etc., p. 140. " 1762, 4,590. Williams, _History of the Negro Race in America_, I. 260. " 1774, 6,562. Fowler, _Local Law_, etc., p. 140. " 1782, 6,281. Fowler, _Local Law_, etc., p. 140. " 1800, 5,281. _Ibid._, p. 141. [47] _Conn. Col. Rec._, XIV 329. Fowler (pp. 125-6) says that the law was passed in 1769, as does Sanford (p. 252). I find no proof of this. There was in Connecticut the same Biblical legislation on the trade as in Massachusetts. Cf. _Laws of Connecticut_ (repr. 1865), p. 9; also _Col. Rec._, I. 77. For general duty acts, see _Col. Rec._, V 405; VIII. 22; IX. 283; XIII. 72, 125. [48] _Acts and Laws of Connecticut_ (ed. 1784), pp. 233-4. [49] _Ibid._, pp. 368, 369, 388. * * * * * _Chapter V_ THE PERIOD OF THE REVOLUTION. 1774-1787. 23. The Situation in 1774. 24. The Condition of the Slave-Trade. 25. The Slave-Trade and the "Association." 26. The Action of the Colonies. 27. The Action of the Continental Congress. 28. Reception of the Slave-Trade Resolution. 29. Results of the Resolution. 30. The Slave-Trade and Public Opinion after the War. 31. The Action of the Confederation. 23. ~The Situation in 1774.~ In the individual efforts of the various colonies to suppress the African slave-trade there may be traced certain general movements. First, from 1638 to 1664, there was a tendency to take a high moral stand against the traffic. This is illustrated in the laws of New England, in the plans for the settlement of Delaware and, later, that of Georgia, and in the protest of the German Friends. The second period, from about 1664 to 1760, has no general unity, but is marked by statutes laying duties varying in design from encouragement to absolute prohibition, by some cases of moral opposition, and by the slow but steady growth of a spirit unfavorable to the long continuance of the trade. The last colonial period, from about 1760 to 1787, is one of pronounced effort to regulate, limit, or totally prohibit the traffic. Beside these general movements, there are many waves of legislation, easily distinguishable, which rolled over several or all of the colonies at various times, such as the series of high duties following the Assiento, and the acts inspired by various Negro "plots." Notwithstanding this, the laws of the colonies before 1774 had no national unity, the peculiar circumstances of each colony determining its legislation. With the outbreak of the Revolution came unison in action with regard to the slave-trade, as with regard to other matters, which may justly be called national. It was, of course, a critical period,--a period when, in the rapid upheaval of a few years, the complicated and diverse forces of decades meet, combine, act, and react, until the resultant seems almost the work of chance. In the settlement of the fate of slavery and the slave-trade, however, the real crisis came in the calm that succeeded the storm, in that day when, in the opinion of most men, the question seemed already settled. And indeed it needed an exceptionally clear and discerning mind, in 1787, to deny that slavery and the slave-trade in the United States of America were doomed to early annihilation. It seemed certainly a legitimate deduction from the history of the preceding century to conclude that, as the system had risen, flourished, and fallen in Massachusetts, New York, and Pennsylvania, and as South Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland were apparently following in the same legislative path, the next generation would in all probability witness the last throes of the system on our soil. To be sure, the problem had its uncertain quantities. The motives of the law-makers in South Carolina and Pennsylvania were dangerously different; the century of industrial expansion was slowly dawning and awakening that vast economic revolution in which American slavery was to play so prominent and fatal a rôle; and, finally, there were already in the South faint signs of a changing moral attitude toward slavery, which would no longer regard the system as a temporary makeshift, but rather as a permanent though perhaps unfortunate necessity. With regard to the slave-trade, however, there appeared to be substantial unity of opinion; and there were, in 1787, few things to indicate that a cargo of five hundred African slaves would openly be landed in Georgia in 1860. 24. ~The Condition of the Slave-Trade.~ In 1760 England, the chief slave-trading nation, was sending on an average to Africa 163 ships annually, with a tonnage of 18,000 tons, carrying exports to the value of £163,818. Only about twenty of these ships regularly returned to England. Most of them carried slaves to the West Indies, and returned laden with sugar and other products. Thus may be formed some idea of the size and importance of the slave-trade at that time, although for a complete view we must add to this the trade under the French, Portuguese, Dutch, and Americans. The trade fell off somewhat toward 1770, but was flourishing again when the Revolution brought a sharp and serious check upon it, bringing down the number of English slavers, clearing, from 167 in 1774 to 28 in 1779, and the tonnage from 17,218 to 3,475 tons. After the war the trade gradually recovered, and by 1786 had reached nearly its former extent. In 1783 the British West Indies received 16,208 Negroes from Africa, and by 1787 the importation had increased to 21,023. In this latter year it was estimated that the British were taking annually from Africa 38,000 slaves; the French, 20,000; the Portuguese, 10,000; the Dutch and Danes, 6,000; a total of 74,000. Manchester alone sent £180,000 annually in goods to Africa in exchange for Negroes.[1] 25. ~The Slave-Trade and the "Association."~ At the outbreak of the Revolution six main reasons, some of which were old and of slow growth, others peculiar to the abnormal situation of that time, led to concerted action against the slave-trade. The first reason was the economic failure of slavery in the Middle and Eastern colonies; this gave rise to the presumption that like failure awaited the institution in the South. Secondly, the new philosophy of "Freedom" and the "Rights of man," which formed the corner-stone of the Revolution, made the dullest realize that, at the very least, the slave-trade and a struggle for "liberty" were not consistent. Thirdly, the old fear of slave insurrections, which had long played so prominent a part in legislation, now gained new power from the imminence of war and from the well-founded fear that the British might incite servile uprisings. Fourthly, nearly all the American slave markets were, in 1774-1775, overstocked with slaves, and consequently many of the strongest partisans of the system were "bulls" on the market, and desired to raise the value of their slaves by at least a temporary stoppage of the trade. Fifthly, since the vested interests of the slave-trading merchants were liable to be swept away by the opening of hostilities, and since the price of slaves was low,[2] there was from this quarter little active opposition to a cessation of the trade for a season. Finally, it was long a favorite belief of the supporters of the Revolution that, as English exploitation of colonial resources had caused the quarrel, the best weapon to bring England to terms was the economic expedient of stopping all commercial intercourse with her. Since, then, the slave-trade had ever formed an important part of her colonial traffic, it was one of the first branches of commerce which occurred to the colonists as especially suited to their ends.[3] Such were the complicated moral, political, and economic motives which underlay the first national action against the slave-trade. This action was taken by the "Association," a union of the colonies entered into to enforce the policy of stopping commercial intercourse with England. The movement was not a great moral protest against an iniquitous traffic; although it had undoubtedly a strong moral backing, it was primarily a temporary war measure. 26. ~The Action of the Colonies.~ The earlier and largely abortive attempts to form non-intercourse associations generally did not mention slaves specifically, although the Virginia House of Burgesses, May 11, 1769, recommended to merchants and traders, among other things, to agree, "That they will not import any slaves, or purchase any imported after the first day of November next, until the said acts are repealed."[4] Later, in 1774, when a Faneuil Hall meeting started the first successful national attempt at non-intercourse, the slave-trade, being at the time especially flourishing, received more attention. Even then slaves were specifically mentioned in the resolutions of but three States. Rhode Island recommended a stoppage of "all trade with Great Britain, Ireland, Africa and the West Indies."[5] North Carolina, in August, 1774, resolved in convention "That we will not import any slave or slaves, or purchase any slave or slaves, imported or brought into this Province by others, from any part of the world, after the first day of _November_ next."[6] Virginia gave the slave-trade especial prominence, and was in reality the leading spirit to force her views on the Continental Congress. The county conventions of that colony first took up the subject. Fairfax County thought "that during our present difficulties and distress, no slaves ought to be imported," and said: "We take this opportunity of declaring our most earnest wishes to see an entire stop forever put to such a wicked, cruel, and unnatural trade."[7] Prince George and Nansemond Counties resolved "That the _African_ trade is injurious to this Colony, obstructs the population of it by freemen, prevents manufacturers and other useful emigrants from _Europe_ from settling amongst us, and occasions an annual increase of the balance of trade against this Colony."[8] The Virginia colonial convention, August, 1774, also declared: "We will neither ourselves import, nor purchase any slave or slaves imported by any other person, after the first day of _November_ next, either from _Africa_, the _West Indies_, or any other place."[9] In South Carolina, at the convention July 6, 1774, decided opposition to the non-importation scheme was manifested, though how much this was due to the slave-trade interest is not certain. Many of the delegates wished at least to limit the powers of their representatives, and the Charleston Chamber of Commerce flatly opposed the plan of an "Association." Finally, however, delegates with full powers were sent to Congress. The arguments leading to this step were not in all cases on the score of patriotism; a Charleston manifesto argued: "The planters are greatly in arrears to the merchants; a stoppage of importation would give them all an opportunity to extricate themselves from debt. The merchants would have time to settle their accounts, and be ready with the return of liberty to renew trade."[10] 27. ~The Action of the Continental Congress.~ The first Continental Congress met September 5, 1774, and on September 22 recommended merchants to send no more orders for foreign goods.[11] On September 27 "Mr. Lee made a motion for a non-importation," and it was unanimously resolved to import no goods from Great Britain after December 1, 1774.[12] Afterward, Ireland and the West Indies were also included, and a committee consisting of Low of New York, Mifflin of Pennsylvania, Lee of Virginia, and Johnson of Connecticut were appointed "to bring in a Plan for carrying into Effect the Non-importation, Non-consumption, and Non-exportation resolved on."[13] The next move was to instruct this committee to include in the proscribed articles, among other things, "Molasses, Coffee or Piemento from the _British_ Plantations or from _Dominica_,"--a motion which cut deep into the slave-trade circle of commerce, and aroused some opposition. "Will, can, the people bear a total interruption of the West India trade?" asked Low of New York; "Can they live without rum, sugar, and molasses? Will not this impatience and vexation defeat the measure?"[14] The committee finally reported, October 12, 1774, and after three days' discussion and amendment the proposal passed. This document, after a recital of grievances, declared that, in the opinion of the colonists, a non-importation agreement would best secure redress; goods from Great Britain, Ireland, the East and West Indies, and Dominica were excluded; and it was resolved that "We will neither import, nor purchase any Slave imported after the First Day of _December_ next; after which Time, we will wholly discontinue the Slave Trade, and will neither be concerned in it ourselves, nor will we hire our Vessels, nor sell our Commodities or Manufactures to those who are concerned in it."[15] Strong and straightforward as this resolution was, time unfortunately proved that it meant very little. Two years later, in this same Congress, a decided opposition was manifested to branding the slave-trade as inhuman, and it was thirteen years before South Carolina stopped the slave-trade or Massachusetts prohibited her citizens from engaging in it. The passing of so strong a resolution must be explained by the motives before given, by the character of the drafting committee, by the desire of America in this crisis to appear well before the world, and by the natural moral enthusiasm aroused by the imminence of a great national struggle. 28. ~Reception of the Slave-Trade Resolution.~ The unanimity with which the colonists received this "Association" is not perhaps as remarkable as the almost entire absence of comment on the radical slave-trade clause. A Connecticut town-meeting in December, 1774, noticed "with singular pleasure ... the second Article of the Association, in which it is agreed to import no more Negro Slaves."[16] This comment appears to have been almost the only one. There were in various places some evidences of disapproval; but only in the State of Georgia was this widespread and determined, and based mainly on the slave-trade clause.[17] This opposition delayed the ratification meeting until January 18, 1775, and then delegates from but five of the twelve parishes appeared, and many of these had strong instructions against the approval of the plan. Before this meeting could act, the governor adjourned it, on the ground that it did not represent the province. Some of the delegates signed an agreement, one article of which promised to stop the importation of slaves March 15, 1775, i.e., four months later than the national "Association" had directed. This was not, of course, binding on the province; and although a town like Darien might declare "our disapprobation and abhorrence of the unnatural practice of Slavery in _America_"[18] yet the powerful influence of Savannah was "not likely soon to give matters a favourable turn. The importers were mostly against any interruption, and the consumers very much divided."[19] Thus the efforts of this Assembly failed, their resolutions being almost unknown, and, as a gentleman writes, "I hope for the honour of the Province ever will remain so."[20] The delegates to the Continental Congress selected by this rump assembly refused to take their seats. Meantime South Carolina stopped trade with Georgia, because it "hath not acceded to the Continental Association,"[21] and the single Georgia parish of St. Johns appealed to the second Continental Congress to except it from the general boycott of the colony. This county had already resolved not to "purchase any Slave imported at _Savannah_ (large Numbers of which we understand are there expected) till the Sense of Congress shall be made known to us."[22] May 17, 1775, Congress resolved unanimously "That all exportations to _Quebec_, _Nova-Scotia_, the Island of _St. John's_, _Newfoundland_, _Georgia_, except the Parish of _St. John's_, and to _East_ and _West Florida_, immediately cease."[23] These measures brought the refractory colony to terms, and the Provincial Congress, July 4, 1775, finally adopted the "Association," and resolved, among other things, "That we will neither import or purchase any Slave imported from Africa, or elsewhere, after this day."[24] The non-importation agreement was in the beginning, at least, well enforced by the voluntary action of the loosely federated nation. The slave-trade clause seems in most States to have been observed with the others. In South Carolina "a cargo of near three hundred slaves was sent out of the Colony by the consignee, as being interdicted by the second article of the Association."[25] In Virginia the vigilance committee of Norfolk "hold up for your just indignation Mr. _John Brown_, Merchant, of this place," who has several times imported slaves from Jamaica; and he is thus publicly censured "to the end that all such foes to the rights of _British America_ may be publickly known ... as the enemies of _American_ Liberty, and that every person may henceforth break off all dealings with him."[26] 29. ~Results of the Resolution.~ The strain of war at last proved too much for this voluntary blockade, and after some hesitancy Congress, April 3, 1776, resolved to allow the importation of articles not the growth or manufacture of Great Britain, except tea. They also voted "That no slaves be imported into any of the thirteen United Colonies."[27] This marks a noticeable change of attitude from the strong words of two years previous: the former was a definitive promise; this is a temporary resolve, which probably represented public opinion much better than the former. On the whole, the conclusion is inevitably forced on the student of this first national movement against the slave-trade, that its influence on the trade was but temporary and insignificant, and that at the end of the experiment the outlook for the final suppression of the trade was little brighter than before. The whole movement served as a sort of social test of the power and importance of the slave-trade, which proved to be far more powerful than the platitudes of many of the Revolutionists had assumed. The effect of the movement on the slave-trade in general was to begin, possibly a little earlier than otherwise would have been the case, that temporary breaking up of the trade which the war naturally caused. "There was a time, during the late war," says Clarkson, "when the slave trade may be considered as having been nearly abolished."[28] The prices of slaves rose correspondingly high, so that smugglers made fortunes.[29] It is stated that in the years 1772-1778 slave merchants of Liverpool failed for the sum of £710,000.[30] All this, of course, might have resulted from the war, without the "Association;" but in the long run the "Association" aided in frustrating the very designs which the framers of the first resolve had in mind; for the temporary stoppage in the end created an extraordinary demand for slaves, and led to a slave-trade after the war nearly as large as that before. 30. ~The Slave-Trade and Public Opinion after the War.~ The Declaration of Independence showed a significant drift of public opinion from the firm stand taken in the "Association" resolutions. The clique of political philosophers to which Jefferson belonged never imagined the continued existence of the country with slavery. It is well known that the first draft of the Declaration contained a severe arraignment of Great Britain as the real promoter of slavery and the slave-trade in America. In it the king was charged with waging "cruel war against human nature itself, violating its most sacred rights of life and liberty in the persons of a distant people who never offended him, captivating and carrying them into slavery in another hemisphere, or to incur miserable death in their transportation thither. This piratical warfare, the opprobrium of _infidel_ powers, is the warfare of the _Christian_ king of Great Britain. Determined to keep open a market where _men_ should be bought and sold, he has prostituted his negative for suppressing every legislative attempt to prohibit or to restrain this execrable commerce. And that this assemblage of horrors might want no fact of distinguished die, he is now exciting those very people to rise in arms among us, and to purchase that liberty of which he has deprived them, by murdering the people on whom he also obtruded them: thus paying off former crimes committed against the _liberties_ of one people with crimes which he urges them to commit against the _lives_ of another."[31] To this radical and not strictly truthful statement, even the large influence of the Virginia leaders could not gain the assent of the delegates in Congress. The afflatus of 1774 was rapidly subsiding, and changing economic conditions had already led many to look forward to a day when the slave-trade could successfully be reopened. More important than this, the nation as a whole was even less inclined now than in 1774 to denounce the slave-trade uncompromisingly. Jefferson himself says that this clause "was struck out in complaisance to South Carolina and Georgia, who had never attempted to restrain the importation of slaves, and who, on the contrary, still wished to continue it. Our northern brethren also, I believe," said he, "felt a little tender under those censures; for though their people had very few slaves themselves, yet they had been pretty considerable carriers of them to others."[32] As the war slowly dragged itself to a close, it became increasingly evident that a firm moral stand against slavery and the slave-trade was not a probability. The reaction which naturally follows a period of prolonged and exhausting strife for high political principles now set in. The economic forces of the country, which had suffered most, sought to recover and rearrange themselves; and all the selfish motives that impelled a bankrupt nation to seek to gain its daily bread did not long hesitate to demand a reopening of the profitable African slave-trade. This demand was especially urgent from the fact that the slaves, by pillage, flight, and actual fighting, had become so reduced in numbers during the war that an urgent demand for more laborers was felt in the South. Nevertheless, the revival of the trade was naturally a matter of some difficulty, as the West India circuit had been cut off, leaving no resort except to contraband traffic and the direct African trade. The English slave-trade after the peace "returned to its former state," and was by 1784 sending 20,000 slaves annually to the West Indies.[33] Just how large the trade to the continent was at this time there are few means of ascertaining; it is certain that there was a general reopening of the trade in the Carolinas and Georgia, and that the New England traders participated in it. This traffic undoubtedly reached considerable proportions; and through the direct African trade and the illicit West India trade many thousands of Negroes came into the United States during the years 1783-1787.[34] Meantime there was slowly arising a significant divergence of opinion on the subject. Probably the whole country still regarded both slavery and the slave-trade as temporary; but the Middle States expected to see the abolition of both within a generation, while the South scarcely thought it probable to prohibit even the slave-trade in that short time. Such a difference might, in all probability, have been satisfactorily adjusted, if both parties had recognized the real gravity of the matter. As it was, both regarded it as a problem of secondary importance, to be solved after many other more pressing ones had been disposed of. The anti-slavery men had seen slavery die in their own communities, and expected it to die the same way in others, with as little active effort on their own part. The Southern planters, born and reared in a slave system, thought that some day the system might change, and possibly disappear; but active effort to this end on their part was ever farthest from their thoughts. Here, then, began that fatal policy toward slavery and the slave-trade that characterized the nation for three-quarters of a century, the policy of _laissez-faire, laissez-passer_. 31. ~The Action of the Confederation.~ The slave-trade was hardly touched upon in the Congress of the Confederation, except in the ordinance respecting the capture of slaves, and on the occasion of the Quaker petition against the trade, although, during the debate on the Articles of Confederation, the counting of slaves as well as of freemen in the apportionment of taxes was urged as a measure that would check further importation of Negroes. "It is our duty," said Wilson of Pennsylvania, "to lay every discouragement on the importation of slaves; but this amendment [i.e., to count two slaves as one freeman] would give the _jus trium liberorum_ to him who would import slaves."[35] The matter was finally compromised by apportioning requisitions according to the value of land and buildings. After the Articles went into operation, an ordinance in regard to the recapture of fugitive slaves provided that, if the capture was made on the sea below high-water mark, and the Negro was not claimed, he should be freed. Matthews of South Carolina demanded the yeas and nays on this proposition, with the result that only the vote of his State was recorded against it.[36] On Tuesday, October 3, 1783, a deputation from the Yearly Meeting of the Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware Friends asked leave to present a petition. Leave was granted the following day,[37] but no further minute appears. According to the report of the Friends, the petition was against the slave-trade; and "though the Christian rectitude of the concern was by the Delegates generally acknowledged, yet not being vested with the powers of legislation, they declined promoting any public remedy against the gross national iniquity of trafficking in the persons of fellow-men."[38] The only legislative activity in regard to the trade during the Confederation was taken by the individual States.[39] Before 1778 Connecticut, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Virginia had by law stopped the further importation of slaves, and importation had practically ceased in all the New England and Middle States, including Maryland. In consequence of the revival of the slave-trade after the War, there was then a lull in State activity until 1786, when North Carolina laid a prohibitive duty, and South Carolina, a year later, began her series of temporary prohibitions. In 1787-1788 the New England States forbade the participation of their citizens in the traffic. It was this wave of legislation against the traffic which did so much to blind the nation as to the strong hold which slavery still had on the country. FOOTNOTES: [1] These figures are from the _Report of the Lords of the Committee of Council_, etc. (London, 1789). [2] Sheffield, _Observations on American Commerce_, p. 28; P.L. Ford, _The Association of the First Congress_, in _Political Science Quarterly_, VI. 615-7. [3] Cf., e.g., Arthur Lee's letter to R.H. Lee, March 18, 1774, in which non-intercourse is declared "the only advisable and sure mode of defence": Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., I. 229. Cf. also _Ibid._, p. 240; Ford, in _Political Science Quarterly_, VI. 614-5. [4] Goodloe, _Birth of the Republic_, p. 260. [5] Staples, _Annals of Providence_ (1843), p. 235. [6] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., I. 735. This was probably copied from the Virginia resolve. [7] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., I. 600. [8] _Ibid._, I. 494, 530. Cf. pp. 523, 616, 641, etc. [9] _Ibid._, I. 687. [10] _Ibid._, I. 511, 526. Cf. also p. 316. [11] _Journals of Cong._, I. 20. Cf. Ford, in _Political Science Quarterly_, VI. 615-7. [12] John Adams, _Works_, II. 382. [13] _Journals of Cong._, I. 21. [14] _Ibid._, I. 24; Drayton; _Memoirs of the American Revolution_, I. 147; John Adams, _Works_, II. 394. [15] _Journals of Cong._, I. 27, 32-8. [16] Danbury, Dec. 12, 1774: Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., I. 1038. This case and that of Georgia are the only ones I have found in which the slave-trade clause was specifically mentioned. [17] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., I. 1033, 1136, 1160, 1163; II. 279-281, 1544; _Journals of Cong._, May 13, 15, 17, 1775. [18] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., I. 1136. [19] _Ibid._, II. 279-81. [20] _Ibid._, I. 1160. [21] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., I. 1163. [22] _Journals of Cong._, May 13, 15, 1775. [23] _Ibid._, May 17, 1775. [24] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., II. 1545. [25] Drayton, _Memoirs of the American Revolution_, I. 182. Cf. pp. 181-7; Ramsay, _History of S. Carolina_, I. 231. [26] Force, _American Archives_, 4th Ser., II. 33-4. [27] _Journals of Cong._, II. 122. [28] Clarkson, _Impolicy of the Slave-Trade_, pp. 125-8. [29] _Ibid._, pp. 25-6. [30] _Ibid._ [31] Jefferson, _Works_ (Washington, 1853-4), I. 23-4. On the Declaration as an anti-slavery document, cf. Elliot, _Debates_ (1861), I. 89. [32] Jefferson, _Works_ (Washington, 1853-4), I. 19. [33] Clarkson, _Impolicy of the Slave-Trade_, pp. 25-6; _Report_, etc., as above. [34] Witness the many high duty acts on slaves, and the revenue derived therefrom. Massachusetts had sixty distilleries running in 1783. Cf. Sheffield, _Observations on American Commerce_, p. 267. [35] Elliot, _Debates_, I. 72-3. Cf. Art. 8 of the Articles of Confederation. [36] _Journals of Cong._, 1781, June 25; July 18; Sept. 21, 27; Nov. 8, 13, 30; Dec. 4. [37] _Ibid._, 1782-3, pp. 418-9, 425. [38] _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong. 2 sess. p. 1183. [39] Cf. above, chapters ii., iii., iv. * * * * * _Chapter VI_ THE FEDERAL CONVENTION. 1787. 32. The First Proposition. 33. The General Debate. 34. The Special Committee and the "Bargain." 35. The Appeal to the Convention. 36. Settlement by the Convention. 37. Reception of the Clause by the Nation. 38. Attitude of the State Conventions. 39. Acceptance of the Policy. 32. ~The First Proposition.~ Slavery occupied no prominent place in the Convention called to remedy the glaring defects of the Confederation, for the obvious reason that few of the delegates thought it expedient to touch a delicate subject which, if let alone, bade fair to settle itself in a manner satisfactory to all. Consequently, neither slavery nor the slave-trade is specifically mentioned in the delegates' credentials of any of the States, nor in Randolph's, Pinckney's, or Hamilton's plans, nor in Paterson's propositions. Indeed, the debate from May 14 to June 19, when the Committee of the Whole reported, touched the subject only in the matter of the ratio of representation of slaves. With this same exception, the report of the Committee of the Whole contained no reference to slavery or the slave-trade, and the twenty-three resolutions of the Convention referred to the Committee of Detail, July 23 and 26, maintain the same silence. The latter committee, consisting of Rutledge, Randolph, Gorham, Ellsworth, and Wilson, reported a draft of the Constitution August 6, 1787. The committee had, in its deliberations, probably made use of a draft of a national Constitution made by Edmund Randolph.[1] One clause of this provided that "no State shall lay a duty on imports;" and, also, "1. No duty on exports. 2. No prohibition on such inhabitants as the United States think proper to admit. 3. No duties by way of such prohibition." It does not appear that any reference to Negroes was here intended. In the extant copy, however, notes in Edward Rutledge's handwriting change the second clause to "No prohibition on such inhabitants or people as the several States think proper to admit."[2] In the report, August 6, these clauses take the following form:-- "Article VII. Section 4. No tax or duty shall be laid by the legislature on articles exported from any state; nor on the migration or importation of such persons as the several states shall think proper to admit; nor shall such migration or importation be prohibited."[3] 33. ~The General Debate.~ This, of course, referred both to immigrants ("migration") and to slaves ("importation").[4] Debate on this section began Tuesday, August 22, and lasted two days. Luther Martin of Maryland precipitated the discussion by a proposition to alter the section so as to allow a prohibition or tax on the importation of slaves. The debate immediately became general, being carried on principally by Rutledge, the Pinckneys, and Williamson from the Carolinas; Baldwin of Georgia; Mason, Madison, and Randolph of Virginia; Wilson and Gouverneur Morris of Pennsylvania; Dickinson of Delaware; and Ellsworth, Sherman, Gerry, King, and Langdon of New England.[5] In this debate the moral arguments were prominent. Colonel George Mason of Virginia denounced the traffic in slaves as "infernal;" Luther Martin of Maryland regarded it as "inconsistent with the principles of the revolution, and dishonorable to the American character." "Every principle of honor and safety," declared John Dickinson of Delaware, "demands the exclusion of slaves." Indeed, Mason solemnly averred that the crime of slavery might yet bring the judgment of God on the nation. On the other side, Rutledge of South Carolina bluntly declared that religion and humanity had nothing to do with the question, that it was a matter of "interest" alone. Gerry of Massachusetts wished merely to refrain from giving direct sanction to the trade, while others contented themselves with pointing out the inconsistency of condemning the slave-trade and defending slavery. The difficulty of the whole argument, from the moral standpoint, lay in the fact that it was completely checkmated by the obstinate attitude of South Carolina and Georgia. Their delegates--Baldwin, the Pinckneys, Rutledge, and others--asserted flatly, not less than a half-dozen times during the debate, that these States "can never receive the plan if it prohibits the slave-trade;" that "if the Convention thought" that these States would consent to a stoppage of the slave-trade, "the expectation is vain."[6] By this stand all argument from the moral standpoint was virtually silenced, for the Convention evidently agreed with Roger Sherman of Connecticut that "it was better to let the Southern States import slaves than to part with those States." In such a dilemma the Convention listened not unwillingly to the _non possumus_ arguments of the States' Rights advocates. The "morality and wisdom" of slavery, declared Ellsworth of Connecticut, "are considerations belonging to the States themselves;" let every State "import what it pleases;" the Confederation has not "meddled" with the question, why should the Union? It is a dangerous symptom of centralization, cried Baldwin of Georgia; the "central States" wish to be the "vortex for everything," even matters of "a local nature." The national government, said Gerry of Massachusetts, had nothing to do with slavery in the States; it had only to refrain from giving direct sanction to the system. Others opposed this whole argument, declaring, with Langdon of New Hampshire, that Congress ought to have this power, since, as Dickinson tartly remarked, "The true question was, whether the national happiness would be promoted or impeded by the importation; and this question ought to be left to the national government, not to the states particularly interested." Beside these arguments as to the right of the trade and the proper seat of authority over it, many arguments of general expediency were introduced. From an economic standpoint, for instance, General C.C. Pinckney of South Carolina "contended, that the importation of slaves would be for the interest of the whole Union. The more slaves, the more produce." Rutledge of the same State declared: "If the Northern States consult their interest, they will not oppose the increase of slaves, which will increase the commodities of which they will become the carriers." This sentiment found a more or less conscious echo in the words of Ellsworth of Connecticut, "What enriches a part enriches the whole." It was, moreover, broadly hinted that the zeal of Maryland and Virginia against the trade had an economic rather than a humanitarian motive, since they had slaves enough and to spare, and wished to sell them at a high price to South Carolina and Georgia, who needed more. In such case restrictions would unjustly discriminate against the latter States. The argument from history was barely touched upon. Only once was there an allusion to "the example of all the world" "in all ages" to justify slavery,[7] and once came the counter declaration that "Greece and Rome were made unhappy by their slaves."[8] On the other hand, the military weakness of slavery in the late war led to many arguments on that score. Luther Martin and George Mason dwelt on the danger of a servile class in war and insurrection; while Rutledge hotly replied that he "would readily exempt the other states from the obligation to protect the Southern against them;" and Ellsworth thought that the very danger would "become a motive to kind treatment." The desirability of keeping slavery out of the West was once mentioned as an argument against the trade: to this all seemed tacitly to agree.[9] Throughout the debate it is manifest that the Convention had no desire really to enter upon a general slavery argument. The broader and more theoretic aspects of the question were but lightly touched upon here and there. Undoubtedly, most of the members would have much preferred not to raise the question at all; but, as it was raised, the differences of opinion were too manifest to be ignored, and the Convention, after its first perplexity, gradually and perhaps too willingly set itself to work to find some "middle ground" on which all parties could stand. The way to this compromise was pointed out by the South. The most radical pro-slavery arguments always ended with the opinion that "if the Southern States were let alone, they will probably of themselves stop importations."[10] To be sure, General Pinckney admitted that, "candidly, he did not think South Carolina would stop her importations of slaves in any short time;" nevertheless, the Convention "observed," with Roger Sherman, "that the abolition of slavery seemed to be going on in the United States, and that the good sense of the several states would probably by degrees complete it." Economic forces were evoked to eke out moral motives: when the South had its full quota of slaves, like Virginia it too would abolish the trade; free labor was bound finally to drive out slave labor. Thus the chorus of "_laissez-faire_" increased; and compromise seemed at least in sight, when Connecticut cried, "Let the trade alone!" and Georgia denounced it as an "evil." Some few discordant notes were heard, as, for instance, when Wilson of Pennsylvania made the uncomforting remark, "If South Carolina and Georgia were themselves disposed to get rid of the importation of slaves in a short time, as had been suggested, they would never refuse to unite because the importation might be prohibited." With the spirit of compromise in the air, it was not long before the general terms were clear. The slavery side was strongly intrenched, and had a clear and definite demand. The forces of freedom were, on the contrary, divided by important conflicts of interest, and animated by no very strong and decided anti-slavery spirit with settled aims. Under such circumstances, it was easy for the Convention to miss the opportunity for a really great compromise, and to descend to a scheme that savored unpleasantly of "log-rolling." The student of the situation will always have good cause to believe that a more sturdy and definite anti-slavery stand at this point might have changed history for the better. 34. ~The Special Committee and the "Bargain."~ Since the debate had, in the first place, arisen from a proposition to tax the importation of slaves, the yielding of this point by the South was the first move toward compromise. To all but the doctrinaires, who shrank from taxing men as property, the argument that the failure to tax slaves was equivalent to a bounty, was conclusive. With this point settled, Randolph voiced the general sentiment, when he declared that he "was for committing, in order that some middle ground might, if possible, be found." Finally, Gouverneur Morris discovered the "middle ground," in his suggestion that the whole subject be committed, "including the clauses relating to taxes on exports and to a navigation act. These things," said he, "may form a bargain among the Northern and Southern States." This was quickly assented to; and sections four and five, on slave-trade and capitation tax, were committed by a vote of 7 to 3,[11] and section six, on navigation acts, by a vote of 9 to 2.[12] All three clauses were referred to the following committee: Langdon of New Hampshire, King of Massachusetts, Johnson of Connecticut, Livingston of New Jersey, Clymer of Pennsylvania, Dickinson of Delaware, Martin of Maryland, Madison of Virginia, Williamson of North Carolina, General Pinckney of South Carolina, and Baldwin of Georgia. The fullest account of the proceedings of this committee is given in Luther Martin's letter to his constituents, and is confirmed in its main particulars by similar reports of other delegates. Martin writes: "A committee of _one_ member from each state was chosen by ballot, to take this part of the system under their consideration, and to endeavor to agree upon some report which should reconcile those states [i.e., South Carolina and Georgia]. To this committee also was referred the following proposition, which had been reported by the committee of detail, viz.: 'No navigation act shall be passed without the assent of two thirds of the members present in each house'--a proposition which the staple and commercial states were solicitous to retain, lest their commerce should be placed too much under the power of the Eastern States, but which these last States were as anxious to reject. This committee--of which also I had the honor to be a member--met, and took under their consideration the subjects committed to them. I found the _Eastern_ States, notwithstanding their _aversion to slavery_, were very willing to indulge the Southern States at least with a temporary liberty to prosecute the slave trade, provided the Southern States would, in their turn, gratify _them_, by laying no restriction on navigation acts; and after a very little time, the committee, by a great majority, agreed on a report, by which the general government was to be prohibited from preventing the importation of slaves for a limited time, and the restrictive clause relative to navigation acts was to be omitted."[13] That the "bargain" was soon made is proven by the fact that the committee reported the very next day, Friday, August 24, and that on Saturday the report was taken up. It was as follows: "Strike out so much of the fourth section as was referred to the committee, and insert 'The migration or importation of such persons as the several states, now existing, shall think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the legislature prior to the year 1800; but a tax or duty may be imposed on such migration or importation, at a rate not exceeding the average of the duties laid on imports.' The fifth section to remain as in the report. The sixth section to be stricken out."[14] 35. ~The Appeal to the Convention.~ The ensuing debate,[15] which lasted only a part of the day, was evidently a sort of appeal to the House on the decisions of the committee. It throws light on the points of disagreement. General Pinckney first proposed to extend the slave-trading limit to 1808, and Gorham of Massachusetts seconded the motion. This brought a spirited protest from Madison: "Twenty years will produce all the mischief that can be apprehended from the liberty to import slaves. So long a term will be more dishonorable to the American character than to say nothing about it in the Constitution."[16] There was, however, evidently another "bargain" here; for, without farther debate, the South and the East voted the extension, 7 to 4, only New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Virginia objecting. The ambiguous phraseology of the whole slave-trade section as reported did not pass without comment; Gouverneur Morris would have it read: "The importation of slaves into North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia, shall not be prohibited," etc.[17] This emendation was, however, too painfully truthful for the doctrinaires, and was, amid a score of objections, withdrawn. The taxation clause also was manifestly too vague for practical use, and Baldwin of Georgia wished to amend it by inserting "common impost on articles not enumerated," in lieu of the "average" duty.[18] This minor point gave rise to considerable argument: Sherman and Madison deprecated any such recognition of property in man as taxing would imply; Mason and Gorham argued that the tax restrained the trade; while King, Langdon, and General Pinckney contented themselves with the remark that this clause was "the price of the first part." Finally, it was unanimously agreed to make the duty "not exceeding ten dollars for each person."[19] Southern interests now being safe, some Southern members attempted, a few days later, to annul the "bargain" by restoring the requirement of a two-thirds vote in navigation acts. Charles Pinckney made the motion, in an elaborate speech designed to show the conflicting commercial interests of the States; he declared that "The power of regulating commerce was a pure concession on the part of the Southern States."[20] Martin and Williamson of North Carolina, Butler of South Carolina, and Mason of Virginia defended the proposition, insisting that it would be a dangerous concession on the part of the South to leave navigation acts to a mere majority vote. Sherman of Connecticut, Morris of Pennsylvania, and Spaight of North Carolina declared that the very diversity of interest was a security. Finally, by a vote of 7 to 4, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia being in the minority, the Convention refused to consider the motion, and the recommendation of the committee passed.[21] When, on September 10, the Convention was discussing the amendment clause of the Constitution, the ever-alert Rutledge, perceiving that the results of the laboriously settled "bargain" might be endangered, declared that he "never could agree to give a power by which the articles relating to slaves might be altered by the states not interested in that property."[22] As a result, the clause finally adopted, September 15, had the proviso: "Provided, that no amendment which may be made prior to the year 1808 shall in any manner affect the 1st and 4th clauses in the 9th section of the 1st article."[23] 36. ~Settlement by the Convention.~ Thus, the slave-trade article of the Constitution stood finally as follows:-- "Article I. Section 9. The Migration or Importation of such Persons as any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to the Year one thousand eight hundred and eight, but a Tax or duty may be imposed on such Importation, not exceeding ten dollars for each Person." This settlement of the slavery question brought out distinct differences of moral attitude toward the institution, and yet differences far from hopeless. To be sure, the South apologized for slavery, the Middle States denounced it, and the East could only tolerate it from afar; and yet all three sections united in considering it a temporary institution, the corner-stone of which was the slave-trade. No one of them had ever seen a system of slavery without an active slave-trade; and there were probably few members of the Convention who did not believe that the foundations of slavery had been sapped merely by putting the abolition of the slave-trade in the hands of Congress twenty years hence. Here lay the danger; for when the North called slavery "temporary," she thought of twenty or thirty years, while the "temporary" period of the South was scarcely less than a century. Meantime, for at least a score of years, a policy of strict _laissez-faire_, so far as the general government was concerned, was to intervene. Instead of calling the whole moral energy of the people into action, so as gradually to crush this portentous evil, the Federal Convention lulled the nation to sleep by a "bargain," and left to the vacillating and unripe judgment of the States one of the most threatening of the social and political ills which they were so courageously seeking to remedy. 37. ~Reception of the Clause by the Nation.~ When the proposed Constitution was before the country, the slave-trade article came in for no small amount of condemnation and apology. In the pamphlets of the day it was much discussed. One of the points in Mason's "Letter of Objections" was that "the general legislature is restrained from prohibiting the further importation of slaves for twenty odd years, though such importations render the United States weaker, more vulnerable, and less capable of defence."[24] To this Iredell replied, through the columns of the _State Gazette_ of North Carolina: "If all the States had been willing to adopt this regulation [i.e., to prohibit the slave-trade], I should as an individual most heartily have approved of it, because even if the importation of slaves in fact rendered us stronger, less vulnerable and more capable of defence, I should rejoice in the prohibition of it, as putting an end to a trade which has already continued too long for the honor and humanity of those concerned in it. But as it was well known that South Carolina and Georgia thought a further continuance of such importations useful to them, and would not perhaps otherwise have agreed to the new constitution, those States which had been importing till they were satisfied, could not with decency have insisted upon their relinquishing advantages themselves had already enjoyed. Our situation makes it necessary to bear the evil as it is. It will be left to the future legislatures to allow such importations or not. If any, in violation of their clear conviction of the injustice of this trade, persist in pursuing it, this is a matter between God and their own consciences. The interests of humanity will, however, have gained something by the prohibition of this inhuman trade, though at a distance of twenty odd years."[25] "Centinel," representing the Quaker sentiment of Pennsylvania, attacked the clause in his third letter, published in the _Independent Gazetteer, or The Chronicle of Freedom_, November 8, 1787: "We are told that the objects of this article are slaves, and that it is inserted to secure to the southern states the right of introducing negroes for twenty-one years to come, against the declared sense of the other states to put an end to an odious traffic in the human species, which is especially scandalous and inconsistent in a people, who have asserted their own liberty by the sword, and which dangerously enfeebles the districts wherein the laborers are bondsmen. The words, dark and ambiguous, such as no plain man of common sense would have used, are evidently chosen to conceal from Europe, that in this enlightened country, the practice of slavery has its advocates among men in the highest stations. When it is recollected that no poll tax can be imposed on _five_ negroes, above what _three_ whites shall be charged; when it is considered, that the imposts on the consumption of Carolina field negroes must be trifling, and the excise nothing, it is plain that the proportion of contributions, which can be expected from the southern states under the new constitution, will be unequal, and yet they are to be allowed to enfeeble themselves by the further importation of negroes till the year 1808. Has not the concurrence of the five southern states (in the convention) to the new system, been purchased too dearly by the rest?"[26] Noah Webster's "Examination" (1787) addressed itself to such Quaker scruples: "But, say the enemies of slavery, negroes may be imported for twenty-one years. This exception is addressed to the quakers, and a very pitiful exception it is. The truth is, Congress cannot prohibit the importation of slaves during that period; but the laws against the importation into particular states, stand unrepealed. An immediate abolition of slavery would bring ruin upon the whites, and misery upon the blacks, in the southern states. The constitution has therefore wisely left each state to pursue its own measures, with respect to this article of legislation, during the period of twenty-one years."[27] The following year the "Examination" of Tench Coxe said: "The temporary reservation of any particular matter must ever be deemed an admission that it should be done away. This appears to have been well understood. In addition to the arguments drawn from liberty, justice and religion, opinions against this practice [i.e., of slave-trading], founded in sound policy, have no doubt been urged. Regard was necessarily paid to the peculiar situation of our southern fellow-citizens; but they, on the other hand, have not been insensible of the delicate situation of our national character on this subject."[28] From quite different motives Southern men defended this section. For instance, Dr. David Ramsay, a South Carolina member of the Convention, wrote in his "Address": "It is farther objected, that they have stipulated for a right to prohibit the importation of negroes after 21 years. On this subject observe, as they are bound to protect us from domestic violence, they think we ought not to increase our exposure to that evil, by an unlimited importation of slaves. Though Congress may forbid the importation of negroes after 21 years, it does not follow that they will. On the other hand, it is probable that they will not. The more rice we make, the more business will be for their shipping; their interest will therefore coincide with ours. Besides, we have other sources of supply--the importation of the ensuing 20 years, added to the natural increase of those we already have, and the influx from our northern neighbours who are desirous of getting rid of their slaves, will afford a sufficient number for cultivating all the lands in this state."[29] Finally, _The Federalist_, No. 41, written by James Madison, commented as follows: "It were doubtless to be wished, that the power of prohibiting the importation of slaves had not been postponed until the year 1808, or rather, that it had been suffered to have immediate operation. But it is not difficult to account, either for this restriction on the General Government, or for the manner in which the whole clause is expressed. It ought to be considered as a great point gained in favor of humanity, that a period of twenty years may terminate forever, within these States, a traffic which has so long and so loudly upbraided the barbarism of modern policy; that within that period, it will receive a considerable discouragement from the Federal Government, and may be totally abolished, by a concurrence of the few States which continue the unnatural traffic, in the prohibitory example which has been given by so great a majority of the Union. Happy would it be for the unfortunate Africans, if an equal prospect lay before them of being redeemed from the oppressions of their European brethren! "Attempts have been made to pervert this clause into an objection against the Constitution, by representing it on one side as a criminal toleration of an illicit practice, and on another, as calculated to prevent voluntary and beneficial emigrations from Europe to America. I mention these misconstructions, not with a view to give them an answer, for they deserve none; but as specimens of the manner and spirit, in which some have thought fit to conduct their opposition to the proposed Government."[30] 38. ~Attitude of the State Conventions.~ The records of the proceedings in the various State conventions are exceedingly meagre. In nearly all of the few States where records exist there is found some opposition to the slave-trade clause. The opposition was seldom very pronounced or bitter; it rather took the form of regret, on the one hand that the Convention went so far, and on the other hand that it did not go farther. Probably, however, the Constitution was never in danger of rejection on account of this clause. Extracts from a few of the speeches, _pro_ and _con_, in various States will best illustrate the character of the arguments. In reply to some objections expressed in the Pennsylvania convention, Wilson said, December 3, 1787: "I consider this as laying the foundation for banishing slavery out of this country; and though the period is more distant than I could wish, yet it will produce the same kind, gradual change, which was pursued in Pennsylvania."[31] Robert Barnwell declared in the South Carolina convention, January 17, 1788, that this clause "particularly pleased" him. "Congress," he said, "has guarantied this right for that space of time, and at its expiration may continue it as long as they please. This question then arises--What will their interest lead them to do? The Eastern States, as the honorable gentleman says, will become the carriers of America. It will, therefore, certainly be their interest to encourage exportation to as great an extent as possible; and if the quantum of our products will be diminished by the prohibition of negroes, I appeal to the belief of every man, whether he thinks those very carriers will themselves dam up the sources from whence their profit is derived. To think so is so contradictory to the general conduct of mankind, that I am of opinion, that, without we ourselves put a stop to them, the traffic for negroes will continue forever."[32] In Massachusetts, January 30, 1788, General Heath said: "The gentlemen who have spoken have carried the matter rather too far on both sides. I apprehend that it is not in our power to do anything for or against those who are in slavery in the southern States.... Two questions naturally arise, if we ratify the Constitution: Shall we do anything by our act to hold the blacks in slavery? or shall we become partakers of other men's sins? I think neither of them. Each State is sovereign and independent to a certain degree, and they have a right, and will regulate their own internal affairs, as to themselves appears proper."[33] Iredell said, in the North Carolina convention, July 26, 1788: "When the entire abolition of slavery takes place, it will be an event which must be pleasing to every generous mind, and every friend of human nature.... But as it is, this government is nobly distinguished above others by that very provision."[34] Of the arguments against the clause, two made in the Massachusetts convention are typical. The Rev. Mr. Neal said, January 25, 1788, that "unless his objection [to this clause] was removed, he could not put his hand to the Constitution."[35] General Thompson exclaimed, "Shall it be said, that after we have established our own independence and freedom, we make slaves of others?"[36] Mason, in the Virginia convention, June 15, 1788, said: "As much as I value a union of all the states, I would not admit the Southern States into the Union unless they agree to the discontinuance of this disgraceful trade.... Yet they have not secured us the property of the slaves we have already. So that 'they have done what they ought not to have done, and have left undone what they ought to have done.'"[37] Joshua Atherton, who led the opposition in the New Hampshire convention, said: "The idea that strikes those who are opposed to this clause so disagreeably and so forcibly is,--hereby it is conceived (if we ratify the Constitution) that we become _consenters to_ and _partakers in_ the sin and guilt of this abominable traffic, at least for a certain period, without any positive stipulation that it shall even then be brought to an end."[38] In the South Carolina convention Lowndes, January 16, 1788, attacked the slave-trade clause. "Negroes," said he, "were our wealth, our only natural resource; yet behold how our kind friends in the north were determined soon to tie up our hands, and drain us of what we had! The Eastern States drew their means of subsistence, in a great measure, from their shipping; and, on that head, they had been particularly careful not to allow of any burdens.... Why, then, call this a reciprocal bargain, which took all from one party, to bestow it on the other!"[39] In spite of this discussion in the different States, only one State, Rhode Island, went so far as to propose an amendment directing Congress to "promote and establish such laws and regulations as may effectually prevent the importation of slaves of every description, into the United States."[40] 39. ~Acceptance of the Policy.~ As in the Federal Convention, so in the State conventions, it is noticeable that the compromise was accepted by the various States from widely different motives.[41] Nevertheless, these motives were not fixed and unchangeable, and there was still discernible a certain underlying agreement in the dislike of slavery. One cannot help thinking that if the devastation of the late war had not left an extraordinary demand for slaves in the South,--if, for instance, there had been in 1787 the same plethora in the slave-market as in 1774,--the future history of the country would have been far different. As it was, the twenty-one years of _laissez-faire_ were confirmed by the States, and the nation entered upon the constitutional period with the slave-trade legal in three States,[42] and with a feeling of quiescence toward it in the rest of the Union. FOOTNOTES: [1] Conway, _Life and Papers of Edmund Randolph_, ch. ix. [2] Conway, _Life and Papers of Edmund Randolph_, p. 78. [3] Elliot, _Debates_, I. 227. [4] Cf. Conway, _Life and Papers of Edmund Randolph_, pp. 78-9. [5] For the following debate, Madison's notes (Elliot, _Debates_, V. 457 ff.) are mainly followed. [6] Cf. Elliot, _Debates_, V, _passim_. [7] By Charles Pinckney. [8] By John Dickinson. [9] Mentioned in the speech of George Mason. [10] Charles Pinckney. Baldwin of Georgia said that if the State were left to herself, "she may probably put a stop to the evil": Elliot, _Debates_, V. 459. [11] _Affirmative:_ Connecticut, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia,--7. _Negative:_ New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, Delaware,--3. _Absent:_ Massachusetts,--1. [12] _Negative:_ Connecticut and New Jersey. [13] Luther Martin's letter, in Elliot, _Debates_, I. 373. Cf. explanations of delegates in the South Carolina, North Carolina, and other conventions. [14] Elliot, _Debates_, V. 471. [15] Saturday, Aug. 25, 1787. [16] Elliot, _Debates_, V. 477. [17] Elliot, _Debates_, V. 477. Dickinson made a similar motion, which was disagreed to: _Ibid._ [18] _Ibid._, V. 478. [19] _Ibid._ [20] Aug. 29: _Ibid._, V. 489. [21] _Ibid._, V. 492. [22] Elliot, _Debates_, V. 532. [23] _Ibid._, I. 317. [24] P.L. Ford, _Pamphlets on the Constitution_, p. 331. [25] _Ibid._, p. 367. [26] McMaster and Stone, _Pennsylvania and the Federal Convention_, pp. 599-600. Cf. also p. 773. [27] See Ford, _Pamphlets_, etc., p. 54. [28] Ford, _Pamphlets_, etc., p. 146. [29] "Address to the Freemen of South Carolina on the Subject of the Federal Constitution": _Ibid._, p. 378. [30] Published in the _New York Packet_, Jan. 22, 1788; reprinted in Dawson's _Foederalist_, I. 290-1. [31] Elliot, _Debates_, II. 452. [32] Elliot, _Debates_, IV. 296-7. [33] Published in _Debates of the Massachusetts Convention_, 1788, p. 217 ff. [34] Elliot, _Debates_, IV. 100-1. [35] Published in _Debates of the Massachusetts Convention_, 1788, p. 208. [36] _Ibid._ [37] Elliot, _Debates_, III. 452-3. [38] Walker, _Federal Convention of New Hampshire_, App. 113; Elliot, Debates, II. 203. [39] Elliot, _Debates_, IV. 273. [40] Updike's _Minutes_, in Staples, _Rhode Island in the Continental Congress_, pp. 657-8, 674-9. Adopted by a majority of one in a convention of seventy. [41] In five States I have found no mention of the subject (Delaware, New Jersey, Georgia, Connecticut, and Maryland). In the Pennsylvania convention there was considerable debate, partially preserved in Elliot's and Lloyd's _Debates_. In the Massachusetts convention the debate on this clause occupied a part of two or three days, reported in published debates. In South Carolina there were several long speeches, reported in Elliot's _Debates_. Only three speeches made in the New Hampshire convention seem to be extant, and two of these are on the slave-trade: cf. Walker and Elliot. The Virginia convention discussed the clause to considerable extent: see Elliot. The clause does not seem to have been a cause of North Carolina's delay in ratification, although it occasioned some discussion: see Elliot. In Rhode Island "much debate ensued," and in this State alone was an amendment proposed: see Staples, _Rhode Island in the Continental Congress_. In New York the Committee of the Whole "proceeded through sections 8, 9 ... with little or no debate": Elliot, _Debates_, II. 406. [42] South Carolina, Georgia, and North Carolina. North Carolina had, however, a prohibitive duty. * * * * * _Chapter VII_ TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE AND ANTI-SLAVERY EFFORT, 1787-1806. 40. Influence of the Haytian Revolution. 41. Legislation of the Southern States. 42. Legislation of the Border States. 43. Legislation of the Eastern States. 44. First Debate in Congress, 1789. 45. Second Debate in Congress, 1790. 46. The Declaration of Powers, 1790. 47. The Act of 1794. 48. The Act of 1800. 49. The Act of 1803. 50. State of the Slave-Trade from 1789 to 1803. 51. The South Carolina Repeal of 1803. 52. The Louisiana Slave-Trade, 1803-1805. 53. Last Attempts at Taxation, 1805-1806. 54. Key-Note of the Period. 40. ~Influence of the Haytian Revolution.~ The rôle which the great Negro Toussaint, called L'Ouverture, played in the history of the United States has seldom been fully appreciated. Representing the age of revolution in America, he rose to leadership through a bloody terror, which contrived a Negro "problem" for the Western Hemisphere, intensified and defined the anti-slavery movement, became one of the causes, and probably the prime one, which led Napoleon to sell Louisiana for a song, and finally, through the interworking of all these effects, rendered more certain the final prohibition of the slave-trade by the United States in 1807. From the time of the reorganization of the Pennsylvania Abolition Society, in 1787, anti-slavery sentiment became active. New York, New Jersey, Rhode Island, Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia had strong organizations, and a national convention was held in 1794. The terrible upheaval in the West Indies, beginning in 1791, furnished this rising movement with an irresistible argument. A wave of horror and fear swept over the South, which even the powerful slave-traders of Georgia did not dare withstand; the Middle States saw their worst dreams realized, and the mercenary trade interests of the East lost control of the New England conscience. 41. ~Legislation of the Southern States.~ In a few years the growing sentiment had crystallized into legislation. The Southern States took immediate measures to close their ports, first against West India Negroes, finally against all slaves. Georgia, who had had legal slavery only from 1755, and had since passed no restrictive legislation, felt compelled in 1793[1] to stop the entry of free Negroes, and in 1798[2] to prohibit, under heavy penalties, the importation of all slaves. This provision was placed in the Constitution of the State, and, although miserably enforced, was never repealed. South Carolina was the first Southern State in which the exigencies of a great staple crop rendered the rapid consumption of slaves more profitable than their proper maintenance. Alternating, therefore, between a plethora and a dearth of Negroes, she prohibited the slave-trade only for short periods. In 1788[3] she had forbidden the trade for five years, and in 1792,[4] being peculiarly exposed to the West Indian insurrection, she quickly found it "inexpedient" to allow Negroes "from Africa, the West India Islands, or other place beyond sea" to enter for two years. This act continued to be extended, although with lessening penalties, until 1803.[5] The home demand in view of the probable stoppage of the trade in 1808, the speculative chances of the new Louisiana Territory trade, and the large already existing illicit traffic combined in that year to cause the passage of an act, December 17, reopening the African slave-trade, although still carefully excluding "West India" Negroes.[6] This action profoundly stirred the Union, aroused anti-slavery sentiment, led to a concerted movement for a constitutional amendment, and, failing in this, to an irresistible demand for a national prohibitory act at the earliest constitutional moment. North Carolina had repealed her prohibitory duty act in 1790,[7] but in 1794 she passed an "Act to prevent further importation and bringing of slaves," etc.[8] Even the body-servants of West India immigrants and, naturally, all free Negroes, were eventually prohibited.[9] 42. ~Legislation of the Border States.~ The Border States, Virginia and Maryland, strengthened their non-importation laws, Virginia freeing illegally imported Negroes,[10] and Maryland prohibiting even the interstate trade.[11] The Middle States took action chiefly in the final abolition of slavery within their borders, and the prevention of the fitting out of slaving vessels in their ports. Delaware declared, in her Act of 1789, that "it is inconsistent with that spirit of general liberty which pervades the constitution of this state, that vessels should be fitted out, or equipped, in any of the ports thereof, for the purpose of receiving and transporting the natives of Africa to places where they are held in slavery,"[12] and forbade such a practice under penalty of £500 for each person so engaged. The Pennsylvania Act of 1788[13] had similar provisions, with a penalty of £1000; and New Jersey followed with an act in 1798.[14] 43. ~Legislation of the Eastern States.~ In the Eastern States, where slavery as an institution was already nearly defunct, action was aimed toward stopping the notorious participation of citizens in the slave-trade outside the State. The prime movers were the Rhode Island Quakers. Having early secured a law against the traffic in their own State, they turned their attention to others. Through their remonstrances Connecticut, in 1788,[15] prohibited participation in the trade by a fine of £500 on the vessel, £50 on each slave, and loss of insurance; this act was strengthened in 1792,[16] the year after the Haytian revolt. Massachusetts, after many fruitless attempts, finally took advantage of an unusually bold case of kidnapping, and passed a similar act in 1788.[17] "This," says Belknap, "was the utmost which could be done by our legislatures; we still have to regret the impossibility of making a law _here_, which shall restrain our citizens from carrying on this trade _in foreign bottoms_, and from committing the crimes which this act prohibits, _in foreign countries_, as it is said some of them have done since the enacting of these laws."[18] Thus it is seen how, spurred by the tragedy in the West Indies, the United States succeeded by State action in prohibiting the slave-trade from 1798 to 1803, in furthering the cause of abolition, and in preventing the fitting out of slave-trade expeditions in United States ports. The country had good cause to congratulate itself. The national government hastened to supplement State action as far as possible, and the prophecies of the more sanguine Revolutionary fathers seemed about to be realized, when the ill-considered act of South Carolina showed the weakness of the constitutional compromise. 44. ~First Debate in Congress, 1789.~ The attention of the national government was early directed to slavery and the trade by the rise, in the first Congress, of the question of taxing slaves imported. During the debate on the duty bill introduced by Clymer's committee, Parker of Virginia moved, May 13, 1789, to lay a tax of ten dollars _per capita_ on slaves imported. He plainly stated that the tax was designed to check the trade, and that he was "sorry that the Constitution prevented Congress from prohibiting the importation altogether." The proposal was evidently unwelcome, and caused an extended debate.[19] Smith of South Carolina wanted to postpone a matter so "big with the most serious consequences to the State he represented." Roger Sherman of Connecticut "could not reconcile himself to the insertion of human beings as an article of duty, among goods, wares, and merchandise." Jackson of Georgia argued against any restriction, and thought such States as Virginia "ought to let their neighbors get supplied, before they imposed such a burden upon the importation." Tucker of South Carolina declared it "unfair to bring in such an important subject at a time when debate was almost precluded," and denied the right of Congress to "consider whether the importation of slaves is proper or not." Mr. Parker was evidently somewhat abashed by this onslaught of friend and foe, but he "had ventured to introduce the subject after full deliberation, and did not like to withdraw it." He desired Congress, "if possible," to "wipe off the stigma under which America labored." This brought Jackson of Georgia again to his feet. He believed, in spite of the "fashion of the day," that the Negroes were better off as slaves than as freedmen, and that, as the tax was partial, "it would be the most odious tax Congress could impose." Such sentiments were a distinct advance in pro-slavery doctrine, and called for a protest from Madison of Virginia. He thought the discussion proper, denied the partiality of the tax, and declared that, according to the spirit of the Constitution and his own desire, it was to be hoped "that, by expressing a national disapprobation of this trade, we may destroy it, and save ourselves from reproaches, and our posterity the imbecility ever attendant on a country filled with slaves." Finally, to Burke of South Carolina, who thought "the gentlemen were contending for nothing," Madison sharply rejoined, "If we contend for nothing, the gentlemen who are opposed to us do not contend for a great deal." It now became clear that Congress had been whirled into a discussion of too delicate and lengthy a nature to allow its further prolongation. Compromising councils prevailed; and it was agreed that the present proposition should be withdrawn and a separate bill brought in. This bill was, however, at the next session dexterously postponed "until the next session of Congress."[20] 45. ~Second Debate in Congress, 1790.~ It is doubtful if Congress of its own initiative would soon have resurrected the matter, had not a new anti-slavery weapon appeared in the shape of urgent petitions from abolition societies. The first petition, presented February 11, 1790,[21] was from the same interstate Yearly Meeting of Friends which had formerly petitioned the Confederation Congress.[22] They urged Congress to inquire "whether, notwithstanding such seeming impediments, it be not in reality within your power to exercise justice and mercy, which, if adhered to, we cannot doubt, must produce the abolition of the slave trade," etc. Another Quaker petition from New York was also presented,[23] and both were about to be referred, when Smith of South Carolina objected, and precipitated a sharp debate.[24] This debate had a distinctly different tone from that of the preceding one, and represents another step in pro-slavery doctrine. The key-note of these utterances was struck by Stone of Maryland, who "feared that if Congress took any measures indicative of an intention to interfere with the kind of property alluded to, it would sink it in value very considerably, and might be injurious to a great number of the citizens, particularly in the Southern States. He thought the subject was of general concern, and that the petitioners had no more right to interfere with it than any other members of the community. It was an unfortunate circumstance, that it was the disposition of religious sects to imagine they understood the rights of human nature better than all the world besides." In vain did men like Madison disclaim all thought of unconstitutional "interference," and express only a desire to see "If anything is within the Federal authority to restrain such violation of the rights of nations and of mankind, as is supposed to be practised in some parts of the United States." A storm of disapproval from Southern members met such sentiments. "The rights of the Southern States ought not to be threatened," said Burke of South Carolina. "Any extraordinary attention of Congress to this petition," averred Jackson of Georgia, would put slave property "in jeopardy," and "evince to the people a disposition towards a total emancipation." Smith and Tucker of South Carolina declared that the request asked for "unconstitutional" measures. Gerry of Massachusetts, Hartley of Pennsylvania, and Lawrence of New York rather mildly defended the petitioners; but after considerable further debate the matter was laid on the table. The very next day, however, the laid ghost walked again in the shape of another petition from the "Pennsylvania Society for promoting the Abolition of Slavery," signed by its venerable president, Benjamin Franklin. This petition asked Congress to "step to the very verge of the power vested in you for discouraging every species of traffic in the persons of our fellow-men."[25] Hartley of Pennsylvania called up the memorial of the preceding day, and it was read a second time and a motion for commitment made. Plain words now came from Tucker of South Carolina. "The petition," he said, "contained an unconstitutional request." The commitment would alarm the South. These petitions were "mischievous" attempts to imbue the slaves with false hopes. The South would not submit to a general emancipation without "civil war." The commitment would "blow the trumpet of sedition in the Southern States," echoed his colleague, Burke. The Pennsylvania men spoke just as boldly. Scott declared the petition constitutional, and was sorry that the Constitution did not interdict this "most abominable" traffic. "Perhaps, in our Legislative capacity," he said, "we can go no further than to impose a duty of ten dollars, but I do not know how far I might go if I was one of the Judges of the United States, and those people were to come before me and claim their emancipation; but I am sure I would go as far as I could." Jackson of Georgia rejoined in true Southern spirit, boldly defending slavery in the light of religion and history, and asking if it was "good policy to bring forward a business at this moment likely to light up the flame of civil discord; for the people of the Southern States will resist one tyranny as soon as another. The other parts of the Continent may bear them down by force of arms, but they will never suffer themselves to be divested of their property without a struggle. The gentleman says, if he was a Federal Judge, he does not know to what length he would go in emancipating these people; but I believe his judgment would be of short duration in Georgia, perhaps even the existence of such a Judge might be in danger." Baldwin, his New-England-born colleague, urged moderation by reciting the difficulty with which the constitutional compromise was reached, and declaring, "the moment we go to jostle on that ground, I fear we shall feel it tremble under our feet." Lawrence of New York wanted to commit the memorials, in order to see how far Congress might constitutionally interfere. Smith of South Carolina, in a long speech, said that his constituents entered the Union "from political, not from moral motives," and that "we look upon this measure as an attack upon the palladium of the property of our country." Page of Virginia, although a slave owner, urged commitment, and Madison again maintained the appropriateness of the request, and suggested that "regulations might be made in relation to the introduction of them [i.e., slaves] into the new States to be formed out of the Western Territory." Even conservative Gerry of Massachusetts declared, with regard to the whole trade, that the fact that "we have a right to regulate this business, is as clear as that we have any rights whatever." Finally, by a vote of 43 to 11, the memorials were committed, the South Carolina and Georgia delegations, Bland and Coles of Virginia, Stone of Maryland, and Sylvester of New York voting in the negative.[26] A committee, consisting of Foster of New Hampshire, Huntington of Connecticut, Gerry of Massachusetts, Lawrence of New York, Sinnickson of New Jersey, Hartley of Pennsylvania, and Parker of Virginia, was charged with the matter, and reported Friday, March 5. The absence of Southern members on this committee compelled it to make this report a sort of official manifesto on the aims of Northern anti-slavery politics. As such, it was sure to meet with vehement opposition in the House, even though conservatively worded. Such proved to be the fact when the committee reported. The onslaught to "negative the whole report" was prolonged and bitter, the debate _pro_ and _con_ lasting several days.[27] 46. ~The Declaration of Powers, 1790.~ The result is best seen by comparing the original report with the report of the Committee of the Whole, adopted by a vote of 29 to 25 Monday, March 23, 1790:[28]-- REPORT OF THE SELECT COMMITTEE. That, from the nature of the matters contained in these memorials, they were induced to examine the powers vested in Congress, under the present Constitution, relating to the Abolition of Slavery, and are clearly of opinion, _First._ That the General Government is expressly restrained from prohibiting the importation of such persons 'as any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit, until the year one thousand eight hundred and eight.' _Secondly._ That Congress, by a fair construction of the Constitution, are equally restrained from interfering in the emancipation of slaves, who already are, or who may, within the period mentioned, be imported into, or born within, any of the said States. _Thirdly._ That Congress have no authority to interfere in the internal regulations of particular States, relative to the instructions of slaves in the principles of morality and religion; to their comfortable clothing, accommodations, and subsistence; to the regulation of their marriages, and the prevention of the violation of the rights thereof, or to the separation of children from their parents; to a comfortable provision in cases of sickness, age, or infirmity; or to the seizure, transportation, or sale of free negroes; but have the fullest confidence in the wisdom and humanity of the Legislatures of the several States, that they will revise their laws from time to time, when necessary, and promote the objects mentioned in the memorials, and every other measure that may tend to the happiness of slaves. _Fourthly._ That, nevertheless, Congress have authority, if they shall think it necessary, to lay at any time a tax or duty, not exceeding ten dollars for each person of any description, the importation of whom shall be by any of the States admitted as aforesaid. _Fifthly._ That Congress have authority to interdict,[29] or (so far as it is or may be carried on by citizens of the United States, for supplying foreigners), to regulate the African trade, and to make provision for the humane treatment of slaves, in all cases while on their passage to the United States, or to foreign ports, so far as respects the citizens of the United States. _Sixthly._ That Congress have also authority to prohibit foreigners from fitting out vessels in any port of the United States, for transporting persons from Africa to any foreign port. _Seventhly._ That the memorialists be informed, that in all cases to which the authority of Congress extends, they will exercise it for the humane objects of the memorialists, so far as they can be promoted on the principles of justice, humanity, and good policy. * * * * * REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE OF THE WHOLE. _First._ That the migration or importation of such persons as any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit, cannot be prohibited by Congress, prior to the year one thousand eight hundred and eight. _Secondly._ That Congress have no authority to interfere in the emancipation of slaves, or in the treatment of them within any of the States; it remaining with the several States alone to provide any regulation therein, which humanity and true policy may require. _Thirdly._ That Congress have authority to restrain the citizens of the United States from carrying on the African trade, for the purpose of supplying foreigners with slaves, and of providing, by proper regulations, for the humane treatment, during their passage, of slaves imported by the said citizens into the States admitting such importation. _Fourthly._ That Congress have authority to prohibit foreigners from fitting out vessels in any port of the United States for transporting persons from Africa to any foreign port. 47. ~The Act of 1794.~ This declaration of the powers of the central government over the slave-trade bore early fruit in the second Congress, in the shape of a shower of petitions from abolition societies in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia.[30] In some of these slavery was denounced as "an outrageous violation of one of the most essential rights of human nature,"[31] and the slave-trade as a traffic "degrading to the rights of man" and "repugnant to reason."[32] Others declared the trade "injurious to the true commercial interest of a nation,"[33] and asked Congress that, having taken up the matter, they do all in their power to limit the trade. Congress was, however, determined to avoid as long as possible so unpleasant a matter, and, save an angry attempt to censure a Quaker petitioner,[34] nothing was heard of the slave-trade until the third Congress. Meantime, news came from the seas southeast of Carolina and Georgia which influenced Congress more powerfully than humanitarian arguments had done. The wild revolt of despised slaves, the rise of a noble black leader, and the birth of a new nation of Negro freemen frightened the pro-slavery advocates and armed the anti-slavery agitation. As a result, a Quaker petition for a law against the transport traffic in slaves was received without a murmur in 1794,[35] and on March 22 the first national act against the slave-trade became a law.[36] It was designed "to prohibit the carrying on the Slave Trade from the United States to any foreign place or country," or the fitting out of slavers in the United States for that country. The penalties for violation were forfeiture of the ship, a fine of $1000 for each person engaged, and of $200 for each slave transported. If the Quakers thought this a triumph of anti-slavery sentiment, they were quickly undeceived. Congress might willingly restrain the country from feeding West Indian turbulence, and yet be furious at a petition like that of 1797,[37] calling attention to "the oppressed state of our brethren of the African race" in this country, and to the interstate slave-trade. "Considering the present extraordinary state of the West India Islands and of Europe," young John Rutledge insisted "that 'sufficient for the day is the evil thereof,' and that they ought to shut their door against any thing which had a tendency to produce the like confusion in this country." After excited debate and some investigation by a special committee, the petition was ordered, in both Senate and House, to be withdrawn. 48. ~The Act of 1800.~ In the next Congress, the sixth, another petition threw the House into paroxysms of slavery debate. Waln of Pennsylvania presented the petition of certain free colored men of Pennsylvania praying for a revision of the slave-trade laws and of the fugitive-slave law, and for prospective emancipation.[38] Waln moved the reference of this memorial to a committee already appointed on the revision of the loosely drawn and poorly enforced Act of 1794.[39] Rutledge of South Carolina immediately arose. He opposed the motion, saying, that these petitions were continually coming in and stirring up discord; that it was a good thing the Negroes were in slavery; and that already "too much of this new-fangled French philosophy of liberty and equality" had found its way among them. Others defended the right of petition, and declared that none wished Congress to exceed its powers. Brown of Rhode Island, a new figure in Congress, a man of distinguished services and from a well-known family, boldly set forth the commercial philosophy of his State. "We want money," said he, "we want a navy; we ought therefore to use the means to obtain it. We ought to go farther than has yet been proposed, and repeal the bills in question altogether, for why should we see Great Britain getting all the slave trade to themselves; why may not our country be enriched by that lucrative traffic? There would not be a slave the more sold, but we should derive the benefits by importing from Africa as well as that nation." Waln, in reply, contended that they should look into "the slave trade, much of which was still carrying on from Rhode Island, Boston and Pennsylvania." Hill of North Carolina called the House back from this general discussion to the petition in question, and, while willing to remedy any existing defect in the Act of 1794, hoped the petition would not be received. Dana of Connecticut declared that the paper "contained nothing but a farrago of the French metaphysics of liberty and equality;" and that "it was likely to produce some of the dreadful scenes of St. Domingo." The next day Rutledge again warned the House against even discussing the matter, as "very serious, nay, dreadful effects, must be the inevitable consequence." He held up the most lurid pictures of the fatuity of the French Convention in listening to the overtures of the "three emissaries from St. Domingo," and thus yielding "one of the finest islands in the world" to "scenes which had never been practised since the destruction of Carthage." "But, sir," he continued, "we have lived to see these dreadful scenes. These horrid effects have succeeded what was conceived once to be trifling. Most important consequences may be the result, although gentlemen little apprehend it. But we know the situation of things there, although they do not, and knowing we deprecate it. There have been emissaries amongst us in the Southern States; they have begun their war upon us; an actual organization has commenced; we have had them meeting in their club rooms, and debating on that subject.... Sir, I do believe that persons have been sent from France to feel the pulse of this country, to know whether these [i.e., the Negroes] are the proper engines to make use of: these people have been talked to; they have been tampered with, and this is going on." Finally, after censuring certain parts of this Negro petition, Congress committed the part on the slave-trade to the committee already appointed. Meantime, the Senate sent down a bill to amend the Act of 1794, and the House took this bill under consideration.[40] Prolonged debate ensued. Brown of Rhode Island again made a most elaborate plea for throwing open the foreign slave-trade. Negroes, he said, bettered their condition by being enslaved, and thus it was morally wrong and commercially indefensible to impose "a heavy fine and imprisonment ... for carrying on a trade so advantageous;" or, if the trade must be stopped, then equalize the matter and abolish slavery too. Nichols of Virginia thought that surely the gentlemen would not advise the importation of more Negroes; for while it "was a fact, to be sure," that they would thus improve their condition, "would it be policy so to do?" Bayard of Delaware said that "a more dishonorable item of revenue" than that derived from the slave-trade "could not be established." Rutledge opposed the new bill as defective and impracticable: the former act, he said, was enough; the States had stopped the trade, and in addition the United States had sought to placate philanthropists by stopping the use of our ships in the trade. "This was going very far indeed." New England first began the trade, and why not let them enjoy its profits now as well as the English? The trade could not be stopped. The bill was eventually recommitted and reported again.[41] "On the question for its passing, a long and warm debate ensued," and several attempts to postpone it were made; it finally passed, however, only Brown of Rhode Island, Dent of Maryland, Rutledge and Huger of South Carolina, and Dickson of North Carolina voting against it, and 67 voting for it.[42] This Act of May 10, 1800,[43] greatly strengthened the Act of 1794. The earlier act had prohibited citizens from equipping slavers for the foreign trade; but this went so far as to forbid them having any interest, direct or indirect, in such voyages, or serving on board slave-ships in any capacity. Imprisonment for two years was added to the former fine of $2000, and United States commissioned ships were directed to capture such slavers as prizes. The slaves though forfeited by the owner, were not to go to the captor; and the act omitted to say what disposition should be made of them. 49. ~The Act of 1803.~ The Haytian revolt, having been among the main causes of two laws, soon was the direct instigation to a third. The frightened feeling in the South, when freedmen from the West Indies began to arrive in various ports, may well be imagined. On January 17, 1803, the town of Wilmington, North Carolina, hastily memorialized Congress, stating the arrival of certain freed Negroes from Guadeloupe, and apprehending "much danger to the peace and safety of the people of the Southern States of the Union" from the "admission of persons of that description into the United States."[44] The House committee which considered this petition hastened to agree "That the system of policy stated in the said memorial to exist, and to be now pursued in the French colonial government, of the West Indies, is fraught with danger to the peace and safety of the United States. That the fact stated to have occurred in the prosecution of that system of policy, demands the prompt interference of the Government of the United States, as well Legislative as Executive."[45] The result was a bill providing for the forfeiture of any ship which should bring into States prohibiting the same "any negro, mulatto, or other person of color;" the captain of the ship was also to be punished. After some opposition[46] the bill became a law, February 28, 1803.[47] 50. ~State of the Slave-Trade from 1789 to 1803.~ Meantime, in spite of the prohibitory State laws, the African slave-trade to the United States continued to flourish. It was notorious that New England traders carried on a large traffic.[48] Members stated on the floor of the House that "it was much to be regretted that the severe and pointed statute against the slave trade had been so little regarded. In defiance of its forbiddance and its penalties, it was well known that citizens and vessels of the United States were still engaged in that traffic.... In various parts of the nation, outfits were made for slave-voyages, without secrecy, shame, or apprehension.... Countenanced by their fellow-citizens at home, who were as ready to buy as they themselves were to collect and to bring to market, they approached our Southern harbors and inlets, and clandestinely disembarked the sooty offspring of the Eastern, upon the ill fated soil of the Western hemisphere. In this way, it had been computed that, during the last twelve months, twenty thousand enslaved negroes had been transported from Guinea, and, by smuggling, added to the plantation stock of Georgia and South Carolina. So little respect seems to have been paid to the existing prohibitory statute, that it may almost be considered as disregarded by common consent."[49] These voyages were generally made under the flag of a foreign nation, and often the vessel was sold in a foreign port to escape confiscation. South Carolina's own Congressman confessed that although the State had prohibited the trade since 1788, she "was unable to enforce" her laws. "With navigable rivers running into the heart of it," said he, "it was impossible, with our means, to prevent our Eastern brethren, who, in some parts of the Union, in defiance of the authority of the General Government, have been engaged in this trade, from introducing them into the country. The law was completely evaded, and, for the last year or two [1802-3], Africans were introduced into the country in numbers little short, I believe, of what they would have been had the trade been a legal one."[50] The same tale undoubtedly might have been told of Georgia. 51. ~The South Carolina Repeal of 1803.~ This vast and apparently irrepressible illicit traffic was one of three causes which led South Carolina, December 17, 1803, to throw aside all pretence and legalize her growing slave-trade; the other two causes were the growing certainty of total prohibition of the traffic in 1808, and the recent purchase of Louisiana by the United States, with its vast prospective demand for slave labor. Such a combination of advantages, which meant fortunes to planters and Charleston slave-merchants, could not longer be withheld from them; the prohibition was repealed, and the United States became again, for the first time in at least five years, a legal slave mart. This action shocked the nation, frightening Southern States with visions of an influx of untrained barbarians and servile insurrections, and arousing and intensifying the anti-slavery feeling of the North, which had long since come to think of the trade, so far as legal enactment went, as a thing of the past. Scarcely a month after this repeal, Bard of Pennsylvania solemnly addressed Congress on the matter. "For many reasons," said he, "this House must have been justly surprised by a recent measure of one of the Southern States. The impressions, however, which that measure gave my mind, were deep and painful. Had I been informed that some formidable foreign Power had invaded our country, I would not, I ought not, be more alarmed than on hearing that South Carolina had repealed her law prohibiting the importation of slaves.... Our hands are tied, and we are obliged to stand confounded, while we see the flood-gate opened, and pouring incalculable miseries into our country."[51] He then moved, as the utmost legal measure, a tax of ten dollars per head on slaves imported. Debate on this proposition did not occur until February 14, when Lowndes explained the circumstances of the repeal, and a long controversy took place.[52] Those in favor of the tax argued that the trade was wrong, and that the tax would serve as some slight check; the tax was not inequitable, for if a State did not wish to bear it she had only to prohibit the trade; the tax would add to the revenue, and be at the same time a moral protest against an unjust and dangerous traffic. Against this it was argued that if the tax furnished a revenue it would defeat its own object, and make prohibition more difficult in 1808; it was inequitable, because it was aimed against one State, and would fall exclusively on agriculture; it would give national sanction to the trade; it would look "like an attempt in the General Government to correct a State for the undisputed exercise of its constitutional powers;" the revenue would be inconsiderable, and the United States had nothing to do with the moral principle; while a prohibitory tax would be defensible, a small tax like this would be useless as a protection and criminal as a revenue measure. The whole debate hinged on the expediency of the measure, few defending South Carolina's action.[53] Finally, a bill was ordered to be brought in, which was done on the 17th.[54] Another long debate took place, covering substantially the same ground. It was several times hinted that if the matter were dropped South Carolina might again prohibit the trade. This, and the vehement opposition, at last resulted in the postponement of the bill, and it was not heard from again during the session. 52. ~The Louisiana Slave-Trade, 1803-1805.~ About this time the cession of Louisiana brought before Congress the question of the status of slavery and the slave-trade in the Territories. Twice or thrice before had the subject called for attention. The first time was in the Congress of the Confederation, when, by the Ordinance of 1787,[55] both slavery and the slave-trade were excluded from the Northwest Territory. In 1790 Congress had accepted the cession of North Carolina back lands on the express condition that slavery there be undisturbed.[56] Nothing had been said as to slavery in the South Carolina cession (1787),[57] but it was tacitly understood that the provision of the Northwest Ordinance would not be applied. In 1798 the bill introduced for the cession of Mississippi contained a specific declaration that the anti-slavery clause of 1787 should not be included.[58] The bill passed the Senate, but caused long and excited debate in the House.[59] It was argued, on the one hand, that the case in Mississippi was different from that in the Northwest Territory, because slavery was a legal institution in all the surrounding country, and to prohibit the institution was virtually to prohibit the settling of the country. On the other hand, Gallatin declared that if this amendment should not obtain, "he knew not how slaves could be prevented from being introduced by way of New Orleans, by persons who are not citizens of the United States." It was moved to strike out the excepting clause; but the motion received only twelve votes,--an apparent indication that Congress either did not appreciate the great precedent it was establishing, or was reprehensibly careless. Harper of South Carolina then succeeded in building up the Charleston slave-trade interest by a section forbidding the slave traffic from "without the limits of the United States." Thatcher moved to strike out the last clause of this amendment, and thus to prohibit the interstate trade, but he failed to get a second.[60] Thus the act passed, punishing the introduction of slaves from without the country by a fine of $300 for each slave, and freeing the slave.[61] In 1804 President Jefferson communicated papers to Congress on the status of slavery and the slave-trade in Louisiana.[62] The Spanish had allowed the traffic by edict in 1793, France had not stopped it, and Governor Claiborne had refrained from interference. A bill erecting a territorial government was already pending.[63] The Northern "District of Louisiana" was placed under the jurisdiction of Indiana Territory, and was made subject to the provisions of the Ordinance of 1787. Various attempts were made to amend the part of the bill referring to the Southern Territory: first, so as completely to prohibit the slave-trade;[64] then to compel the emancipation at a certain age of all those imported;[65] next, to confine all importation to that from the States;[66] and, finally, to limit it further to slaves imported before South Carolina opened her ports.[67] The last two amendments prevailed, and the final act also extended to the Territory the Acts of 1794 and 1803. Only slaves imported before May 1, 1798, could be introduced, and those must be slaves of actual settlers.[68] All slaves illegally imported were freed. This stringent act was limited to one year. The next year, in accordance with the urgent petition of the inhabitants, a bill was introduced against these restrictions.[69] By dexterous wording, this bill, which became a law March 2, 1805,[70] swept away all restrictions upon the slave-trade except that relating to foreign ports, and left even this provision so ambiguous that, later, by judicial interpretation of the law,[71] the foreign slave-trade was allowed, at least for a time. Such a stream of slaves now poured into the new Territory that the following year a committee on the matter was appointed by the House.[72] The committee reported that they "are in possession of the fact, that African slaves, lately imported into Charleston, have been thence conveyed into the territory of Orleans, and, in their opinion, this practice will be continued to a very great extent, while there is no law to prevent it."[73] The House ordered a bill checking this to be prepared; and such a bill was reported, but was soon dropped.[74] Importations into South Carolina during this time reached enormous proportions. Senator Smith of that State declared from official returns that, between 1803 and 1807, 39,075 Negroes were imported into Charleston, most of whom went to the Territories.[75] 53. ~Last Attempts at Taxation, 1805-1806.~ So alarming did the trade become that North Carolina passed a resolution in December, 1804,[76] proposing that the States give Congress power to prohibit the trade. Massachusetts,[77] Vermont,[78] New Hampshire,[79] and Maryland[80] responded; and a joint resolution was introduced in the House, proposing as an amendment to the Constitution "That the Congress of the United States shall have power to prevent the further importation of slaves into the United States and the Territories thereof."[81] Nothing came of this effort; but meantime the project of taxation was revived. A motion to this effect, made in February, 1805, was referred to a Committee of the Whole, but was not discussed. Early in the first session of the ninth Congress the motion of 1805 was renewed; and although again postponed on the assurance that South Carolina was about to stop the trade,[82] it finally came up for debate January 20, 1806.[83] Then occurred a most stubborn legislative battle, which lasted during the whole session.[84] Several amendments to the motion were first introduced, so as to make it apply to all immigrants, and again to all "persons of color." As in the former debate, it was proposed to substitute a resolution of censure on South Carolina. All these amendments were lost. A long debate on the expediency of the measure followed, on the old grounds. Early of Georgia dwelt especially on the double taxation it would impose on Georgia; others estimated that a revenue of one hundred thousand dollars might be derived from the tax, a sum sufficient to replace the tax on pepper and medicines. Angry charges and counter-charges were made,--e.g., that Georgia, though ashamed openly to avow the trade, participated in it as well as South Carolina. "Some recriminations ensued between several members, on the participation of the traders of some of the New England States in carrying on the slave trade." Finally, January 22, by a vote of 90 to 25, a tax bill was ordered to be brought in.[85] One was reported on the 27th.[86] Every sort of opposition was resorted to. On the one hand, attempts were made to amend it so as to prohibit importation after 1807, and to prevent importation into the Territories; on the other hand, attempts were made to recommit and postpone the measure. It finally got a third reading, but was recommitted to a select committee, and disappeared until February 14.[87] Being then amended so as to provide for the forfeiture of smuggled cargoes, but saying nothing as to the disposition of the slaves, it was again relegated to a committee, after a vote of 69 to 42 against postponement.[88] On March 4 it appeared again, and a motion to reject it was lost. Finally, in the midst of the war scare and the question of non-importation of British goods, the bill was apparently forgotten, and the last attempt to tax imported slaves ended, like the others, in failure. 54. ~Key-Note of the Period.~ One of the last acts of this period strikes again the key-note which sounded throughout the whole of it. On February 20, 1806, after considerable opposition, a bill to prohibit trade with San Domingo passed the Senate.[89] In the House it was charged by one side that the measure was dictated by France, and by the other, that it originated in the fear of countenancing Negro insurrection. The bill, however, became a law, and by continuations remained on the statute-books until 1809. Even at that distance the nightmare of the Haytian insurrection continued to haunt the South, and a proposal to reopen trade with the island caused wild John Randolph to point out the "dreadful evil" of a "direct trade betwixt the town of Charleston and the ports of the island of St. Domingo."[90] Of the twenty years from 1787 to 1807 it can only be said that they were, on the whole, a period of disappointment so far as the suppression of the slave-trade was concerned. Fear, interest, and philanthropy united for a time in an effort which bade fair to suppress the trade; then the real weakness of the constitutional compromise appeared, and the interests of the few overcame the fears and the humanity of the many. FOOTNOTES: [1] Prince, _Digest of the Laws of Georgia_, p. 786; Marbury and Crawford, _Digest of the Laws of Georgia_, pp. 440, 442. The exact text of this act appears not to be extant. Section I. is stated to have been "re-enacted by the constitution." Possibly this act prohibited slaves also, although this is not certain. Georgia passed several regulative acts between 1755 and 1793. Cf. Renne, _Colonial Acts of Georgia_, pp. 73-4, 164, note. [2] Marbury and Crawford, _Digest_, p. 30, § 11. The clause was penned by Peter J. Carnes of Jefferson. Cf. W.B. Stevens, _History of Georgia_ (1847), II. 501. [3] Grimké, _Public Laws_, p. 466. [4] Cooper and McCord, _Statutes_, VII. 431. [5] _Ibid._, VII. 433-6, 444, 447. [6] _Ibid._, VII. 449. [7] Martin, _Iredell's Acts of Assembly_, I. 492. [8] _Ibid._, II. 53. [9] Cf. _Ibid._, II. 94; _Laws of North Carolina_ (revision of 1819), I. 786. [10] Virginia codified her whole slave legislation in 1792 (_Va. Statutes at Large_, New Ser., I. 122), and amended her laws in 1798 and 1806 (_Ibid._, III. 251). [11] Dorsey, _Laws of Maryland, 1796_, I. 334. [12] _Laws of Delaware, 1797_ (Newcastle ed.), p. 942, ch. 194 b. [13] Dallas, _Laws_, II. 586. [14] Paterson, _Digest of the Laws of New Jersey_ (1800), pp. 307-13. In 1804 New Jersey passed an act gradually to abolish slavery. The legislation of New York at this period was confined to regulating the exportation of slave criminals (1790), and to passing an act gradually abolishing slavery (1799). In 1801 she codified all her acts. [15] _Acts and Laws of Connecticut_ (ed. 1784), pp. 368, 369, 388. [16] _Ibid._, p. 412. [17] _Perpetual Laws of Massachusetts, 1780-89_, pp. 235-6. [18] _Queries Respecting Slavery_, etc., in _Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll._, 1st Ser., IV. 205. [19] _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong, 1 sess. pp. 336-41. [20] _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong. 1 sess. p. 903. [21] _Ibid._, 1 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1182-3. [22] _Journals of Cong., 1782-3_, pp. 418-9. Cf. above, pp. 56-57. [23] _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong. 2 sess. p. 1184. [24] _Ibid._, pp. 1182-91. [25] _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1197-1205. [26] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 1 Cong. 2 sess. I. 157-8. [27] _Annals of Cong._, I Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1413-7. [28] For the reports and debates, cf. _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1413-7, 1450-74; _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 1 Cong. 2 sess. I. 168-81. [29] A clerical error in the original: "interdict" and "regulate" should be interchanged. [30] See _Memorials presented to Congress_, etc. (1792), published by the Pennsylvania Abolition Society. [31] From the Virginia petition. [32] From the petition of Baltimore and other Maryland societies. [33] From the Providence Abolition Society's petition. [34] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 2 Cong. 2 sess. I. 627-9; _Annals of Cong._, 2 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 728-31. [35] _Annals of Cong._, 3 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 64, 70, 72; _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 3 Cong. 1 sess. II. 76, 84-5, 96-100; _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1820), 3 Cong. 1 sess. II. 51. [36] _Statutes at Large_, I. 347-9. [37] _Annals of Cong._, 5 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 656-70, 945-1033. [38] _Annals of Cong._, 6 Cong. 1 sess. p. 229. [39] Dec. 12, 1799: _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 6 Cong. 1 sess. III. 535. For the debate, see _Annals of Cong._, 6 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 230-45. [40] _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 6 Cong. 1 sess. III. 72, 77, 88, 92; see _Ibid._, Index, Bill No. 62; _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 6 Cong. 1 sess. III., Index, House Bill No. 247. For the debate, see _Annals of Cong._, 6 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 686-700. [41] _Annals of Cong._, 6 Cong. 1 sess. p. 697. [42] _Ibid._, p. 699-700. [43] _Statutes at Large_, II. 70. [44] _Annals of Cong._, 7 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 385-6. [45] _Ibid._, p. 424. [46] See House Bills Nos. 89 and 101; _Annals of Cong._, 7 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 424, 459-67. For the debate, see _Ibid._, pp. 459-72. [47] _Statutes at Large_, II. 205. [48] Cf. Fowler, _Local Law in Massachusetts and Connecticut_, etc., p. 126. [49] Speech of S.L. Mitchell of New York, Feb. 14, 1804: _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1000. Cf. also speech of Bedinger: _Ibid._, pp. 997-8. [50] Speech of Lowndes in the House, Feb. 14, 1804: _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong., 1 sess. p. 992. Cf. Stanton's speech later: _Ibid._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 240. [51] _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 820, 876. [52] _Ibid._, pp. 992-1036. [53] Huger of South Carolina declared that the whole South Carolina Congressional delegation opposed the repeal of the law, although they maintained the State's right to do so if she chose: _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1005. [54] _Ibid._, pp. 1020-36; _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 8 Cong. 1 sess. IV 523, 578, 580, 581-5. [55] On slavery in the Territories, cf. Welling, in _Report Amer. Hist. Assoc._, 1891, pp. 133-60. [56] _Statutes at Large_, I. 108. [57] _Journals of Cong._, XII. 137-8. [58] _Annals of Cong._, 5 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 511, 515, 532-3. [59] _Ibid._, 5 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1235, 1249, 1277-84, 1296-1313. [60] _Annals of Cong._, 5 Cong. 2 sess. p. 1313. [61] _Statutes at Large_, I. 549. [62] _Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, I. No. 177. [63] _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 106, 211, 223, 231, 233-4, 238. [64] _Ibid._, pp. 240, 1186. [65] _Ibid._, p. 241. [66] _Ibid._, p. 240. [67] _Ibid._, p. 242. [68] For further proceedings, see _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 240-55, 1038-79, 1128-9, 1185-9. For the law, see _Statutes at Large_, II. 283-9. [69] First, a bill was introduced applying the Northwest Ordinance to the Territory (_Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 45-6); but this was replaced by a Senate bill (_Ibid._, p. 68; _Senate Journal_, repr. 1821, 8 Cong. 2 sess. III. 464). For the petition of the inhabitants, see _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 2 sess. p. 727-8. [70] The bill was hurried through, and there are no records of debate. Cf. _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 28-69, 727, 871, 957, 1016-20, 1213-5. In _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), III., see Index, Bill No. 8. Importation of slaves was allowed by a clause erecting a Frame of Government "similar" to that of the Mississippi Territory. [71] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. p. 443. The whole trade was practically foreign, for the slavers merely entered the Negroes at Charleston and immediately reshipped them to New Orleans. Cf. _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. p. 264. [72] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 1 sess. V. 264; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 445, 878. [73] _House Reports_, 9 Cong. 1 sess. Feb. 17, 1806. [74] House Bill No. 123. [75] _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 73-7. This report covers the time from Jan. 1, 1804, to Dec. 31, 1807. During that time the following was the number of ships engaged in the traffic:-- From Charleston, 61 From Connecticut, 1 " Rhode Island, 59 " Sweden, 1 " Baltimore, 4 " Great Britain, 70 " Boston, 1 " France, 3 " Norfolk, 2 202 The consignees of these slave ships were natives of Charleston 13 Rhode Island 88 Great Britain 91 France 10 ---- 202 The following slaves were imported:-- By British vessels 19,949 " French " 1,078 ------ 21,027 By American vessels:-- " Charleston merchants 2,006 " Rhode Island " 7,958 " Foreign " 5,717 " other Northern " 930 " " Southern " 1,437 18,048 ------ ------ Total number of slaves imported, 1804-7 39,075 It is, of course, highly probable that the Custom House returns were much below the actual figures. [76] McMaster, _History of the People of the United States_, III. p. 517. [77] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 8 Cong. 2 sess. V. 171; _Mass. Resolves_, May, 1802, to March, 1806, Vol. II. A. (State House ed., p. 239). [78] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 1 sess. V. 238. [79] _Ibid._, V. 266. [80] _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 9 Cong. 1 sess. IV. 76, 77, 79. [81] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 8 Cong. 2 sess. V. 171. [82] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. p. 274. [83] _Ibid._, pp. 272-4, 323. [84] _Ibid._, pp. 346-52, 358-75, etc., to 520. [85] _Ibid._, pp. 374-5. [86] See House Bill No. 94. [87] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. p. 466. [88] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 519-20. [89] _Ibid._, pp. 21, 52, 75, etc., to 138, 485-515, 1228. See House Bill No. 168. Cf. _Statutes at Large_, II. 421-2. [90] A few months later, at the expiration of the period, trade was quietly reopened. _Annals of Cong._, 11 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 443-6. * * * * * _Chapter VIII_ THE PERIOD OF ATTEMPTED SUPPRESSION. 1807-1825. 55. The Act of 1807. 56. The First Question: How shall illegally imported Africans be disposed of? 57. The Second Question: How shall Violations be punished? 58. The Third Question: How shall the Interstate Coastwise Slave-Trade be protected? 59. Legislative History of the Bill. 60. Enforcement of the Act. 61. Evidence of the Continuance of the Trade. 62. Apathy of the Federal Government. 63. Typical Cases. 64. The Supplementary Acts, 1818-1820. 65. Enforcement of the Supplementary Acts, 1818-1825. 55. ~The Act of 1807.~ The first great goal of anti-slavery effort in the United States had been, since the Revolution, the suppression of the slave-trade by national law. It would hardly be too much to say that the Haytian revolution, in addition to its influence in the years from 1791 to 1806, was one of the main causes that rendered the accomplishment of this aim possible at the earliest constitutional moment. To the great influence of the fears of the South was added the failure of the French designs on Louisiana, of which Toussaint L'Ouverture was the most probable cause. The cession of Louisiana in 1803 challenged and aroused the North on the slavery question again; put the Carolina and Georgia slave-traders in the saddle, to the dismay of the Border States; and brought the whole slave-trade question vividly before the public conscience. Another scarcely less potent influence was, naturally, the great anti-slavery movement in England, which after a mighty struggle of eighteen years was about to gain its first victory in the British Act of 1807. President Jefferson, in his pacificatory message of December 2, 1806, said: "I congratulate you, fellow-citizens, on the approach of the period at which you may interpose your authority constitutionally, to withdraw the citizens of the United States from all further participation in those violations of human rights which have been so long continued on the unoffending inhabitants of Africa, and which the morality, the reputation, and the best interests of our country, have long been eager to proscribe. Although no law you may pass can take prohibitory effect till the first day of the year one thousand eight hundred and eight, yet the intervening period is not too long to prevent, by timely notice, expeditions which cannot be completed before that day."[1] In pursuance of this recommendation, the very next day Senator Bradley of Vermont introduced into the Senate a bill which, after a complicated legislative history, became the Act of March 2, 1807, prohibiting the African slave-trade.[2] Three main questions were to be settled by this bill: first, and most prominent, that of the disposal of illegally imported Africans; second, that of the punishment of those concerned in the importation; third, that of the proper limitation of the interstate traffic by water. The character of the debate on these three questions, as well as the state of public opinion, is illustrated by the fact that forty of the sixty pages of officially reported debates are devoted to the first question, less than twenty to the second, and only two to the third. A sad commentary on the previous enforcement of State and national laws is the readiness with which it was admitted that wholesale violations of the law would take place; indeed, Southern men declared that no strict law against the slave-trade could be executed in the South, and that it was only by playing on the motives of personal interest that the trade could be checked. The question of punishment indicated the slowly changing moral attitude of the South toward the slave system. Early boldly said, "A large majority of people in the Southern States do not consider slavery as even an evil."[3] The South, in fact, insisted on regarding man-stealing as a minor offence, a "misdemeanor" rather than a "crime." Finally, in the short and sharp debate on the interstate coastwise trade, the growing economic side of the slavery question came to the front, the vested interests' argument was squarely put, and the future interstate trade almost consciously provided for. From these considerations, it is doubtful as to how far it was expected that the Act of 1807 would check the slave traffic; at any rate, so far as the South was concerned, there seemed to be an evident desire to limit the trade, but little thought that this statute would definitively suppress it. 56. ~The First Question: How shall illegally imported Africans be disposed of?~ The dozen or more propositions on the question of the disposal of illegally imported Africans may be divided into two chief heads, representing two radically opposed parties: 1. That illegally imported Africans be free, although they might be indentured for a term of years or removed from the country. 2. That such Africans be sold as slaves.[4] The arguments on these two propositions, which were many and far-reaching, may be roughly divided into three classes, political, constitutional, and moral. The political argument, reduced to its lowest terms, ran thus: those wishing to free the Negroes illegally imported declared that to enslave them would be to perpetrate the very evil which the law was designed to stop. "By the same law," they said, "we condemn the man-stealer and become the receivers of his stolen goods. We punish the criminal, and then step into his place, and complete the crime."[5] They said that the objection to free Negroes was no valid excuse; for if the Southern people really feared this class, they would consent to the imposing of such penalties on illicit traffic as would stop the importation of a single slave.[6] Moreover, "forfeiture" and sale of the Negroes implied a property right in them which did not exist.[7] Waiving this technical point, and allowing them to be "forfeited" to the government, then the government should either immediately set them free, or, at the most, indenture them for a term of years; otherwise, the law would be an encouragement to violators. "It certainly will be," said they, "if the importer can find means to evade the penalty of the act; for there he has all the advantage of a market enhanced by our ineffectual attempt to prohibit."[8] They claimed that even the indenturing of the ignorant barbarian for life was better than slavery; and Sloan declared that the Northern States would receive the freed Negroes willingly rather than have them enslaved.[9] The argument of those who insisted that the Negroes should be sold was tersely put by Macon: "In adopting our measures on this subject, we must pass such a law as can be executed."[10] Early expanded this: "It is a principle in legislation, as correct as any which has ever prevailed, that to give effect to laws you must not make them repugnant to the passions and wishes of the people among whom they are to operate. How then, in this instance, stands the fact? Do not gentlemen from every quarter of the Union prove, on the discussion of every question that has ever arisen in the House, having the most remote bearing on the giving freedom to the Africans in the bosom of our country, that it has excited the deepest sensibility in the breasts of those where slavery exists? And why is this so? It is, because those who, from experience, know the extent of the evil, believe that the most formidable aspect in which it can present itself, is by making these people free among them. Yes, sir, though slavery is an evil, regretted by every man in the country, to have among us in any considerable quantity persons of this description, is an evil far greater than slavery itself. Does any gentleman want proof of this? I answer that all proof is useless; no fact can be more notorious. With this belief on the minds of the people where slavery exists, and where the importation will take place, if at all, we are about to turn loose in a state of freedom all persons brought in after the passage of this law. I ask gentlemen to reflect and say whether such a law, opposed to the ideas, the passions, the views, and the affections of the people of the Southern States, can be executed? I tell them, no; it is impossible--why? Because no man will inform--why? Because to inform will be to lead to an evil which will be deemed greater than the offence of which information is given, because it will be opposed to the principle of self-preservation, and to the love of family. No, no man will be disposed to jeopard his life, and the lives of his countrymen. And if no one dare inform, the whole authority of the Government cannot carry the law into effect. The whole people will rise up against it. Why? Because to enforce it would be to turn loose, in the bosom of the country, firebrands that would consume them."[11] This was the more tragic form of the argument; it also had a mercenary side, which was presented with equal emphasis. It was repeatedly said that the only way to enforce the law was to play off individual interests against each other. The profit from the sale of illegally imported Negroes was declared to be the only sufficient "inducement to give information of their importation."[12] "Give up the idea of forfeiture, and I challenge the gentleman to invent fines, penalties, or punishments of any sort, sufficient to restrain the slave trade."[13] If such Negroes be freed, "I tell you that slaves will continue to be imported as heretofore.... You cannot get hold of the ships employed in this traffic. Besides, slaves will be brought into Georgia from East Florida. They will be brought into the Mississippi Territory from the bay of Mobile. You cannot inflict any other penalty, or devise any other adequate means of prevention, than a forfeiture of the Africans in whose possession they may be found after importation."[14] Then, too, when foreigners smuggled in Negroes, "who then ... could be operated on, but the purchasers? There was the rub--it was their interest alone which, by being operated on, would produce a check. Snap their purse-strings, break open their strong box, deprive them of their slaves, and by destroying the temptation to buy, you put an end to the trade, ... nothing short of a forfeiture of the slave would afford an effectual remedy."[15] Again, it was argued that it was impossible to prevent imported Negroes from becoming slaves, or, what was just as bad, from being sold as vagabonds or indentured for life.[16] Even our own laws, it was said, recognize the title of the African slave factor in the transported Negroes; and if the importer have no title, why do we legislate? Why not let the African immigrant alone to get on as he may, just as we do the Irish immigrant?[17] If he should be returned to Africa, his home could not be found, and he would in all probability be sold into slavery again.[18] The constitutional argument was not urged as seriously as the foregoing; but it had a considerable place. On the one hand, it was urged that if the Negroes were forfeited, they were forfeited to the United States government, which could dispose of them as it saw fit;[19] on the other hand, it was said that the United States, as owner, was subject to State laws, and could not free the Negroes contrary to such laws.[20] Some alleged that the freeing of such Negroes struck at the title to all slave property;[21] others thought that, as property in slaves was not recognized in the Constitution, it could not be in a statute.[22] The question also arose as to the source of the power of Congress over the slave-trade. Southern men derived it from the clause on commerce, and declared that it exceeded the power of Congress to declare Negroes imported into a slave State, free, against the laws of that State; that Congress could not determine what should or should not be property in a State.[23] Northern men replied that, according to this principle, forfeiture and sale in Massachusetts would be illegal; that the power of Congress over the trade was derived from the restraining clause, as a non-existent power could not be restrained; and that the United States could act under her general powers as executor of the Law of Nations.[24] The moral argument as to the disposal of illegally imported Negroes was interlarded with all the others. On the one side, it began with the "Rights of Man," and descended to a stickling for the decent appearance of the statute-book; on the other side, it began with the uplifting of the heathen, and descended to a denial of the applicability of moral principles to the question. Said Holland of North Carolina: "It is admitted that the condition of the slaves in the Southern States is much superior to that of those in Africa. Who, then, will say that the trade is immoral?"[25] But, in fact, "morality has nothing to do with this traffic,"[26] for, as Joseph Clay declared, "it must appear to every man of common sense, that the question could be considered in a commercial point of view only."[27] The other side declared that, "by the laws of God and man," these captured Negroes are "entitled to their freedom as clearly and absolutely as we are;"[28] nevertheless, some were willing to leave them to the tender mercies of the slave States, so long as the statute-book was disgraced by no explicit recognition of slavery.[29] Such arguments brought some sharp sarcasm on those who seemed anxious "to legislate for the honor and glory of the statute book;"[30] some desired "to know what honor you will derive from a law that will be broken every day of your lives."[31] They would rather boldly sell the Negroes and turn the proceeds over to charity. The final settlement of the question was as follows:-- "SECTION 4.... And neither the importer, nor any person or persons claiming from or under him, shall hold any right or title whatsoever to any negro, mulatto, or person of color, nor to the service or labor thereof, who may be imported or brought within the United States, or territories thereof, in violation of this law, but the same shall remain subject to any regulations not contravening the provisions of this act, which the Legislatures of the several States or Territories at any time hereafter may make, for disposing of any such negro, mulatto, or person of color."[32] 57. ~The Second Question: How shall Violations be punished?~ The next point in importance was that of the punishment of offenders. The half-dozen specific propositions reduce themselves to two: 1. A violation should be considered a crime or felony, and be punished by death; 2. A violation should be considered a misdemeanor, and be punished by fine and imprisonment.[33] Advocates of the severer punishment dwelt on the enormity of the offence. It was "one of the highest crimes man could commit," and "a captain of a ship engaged in this traffic was guilty of murder."[34] The law of God punished the crime with death, and any one would rather be hanged than be enslaved.[35] It was a peculiarly deliberate crime, in which the offender did not act in sudden passion, but had ample time for reflection.[36] Then, too, crimes of much less magnitude are punished with death. Shall we punish the stealer of $50 with death, and the man-stealer with imprisonment only?[37] Piracy, forgery, and fraudulent sinking of vessels are punishable with death, "yet these are crimes only against property; whereas the importation of slaves, a crime committed against the liberty of man, and inferior only to murder or treason, is accounted nothing but a misdemeanor."[38] Here, indeed, lies the remedy for the evil of freeing illegally imported Negroes,--in making the penalty so severe that none will be brought in; if the South is sincere, "they will unite to a man to execute the law."[39] To free such Negroes is dangerous; to enslave them, wrong; to return them, impracticable; to indenture them, difficult,--therefore, by a death penalty, keep them from being imported.[40] Here the East had a chance to throw back the taunts of the South, by urging the South to unite with them in hanging the New England slave-traders, assuring the South that "so far from charging their Southern brethren with cruelty or severity in hanging them, they would acknowledge the favor with gratitude."[41] Finally, if the Southerners would refuse to execute so severe a law because they did not consider the offence great, they would probably refuse to execute any law at all for the same reason.[42] The opposition answered that the death penalty was more than proportionate to the crime, and therefore "immoral."[43] "I cannot believe," said Stanton of Rhode Island, "that a man ought to be hung for only stealing a negro."[44] It was argued that the trade was after all but a "transfer from one master to another;"[45] that slavery was worse than the slave-trade, and the South did not consider slavery a crime: how could it then punish the trade so severely and not reflect on the institution?[46] Severity, it was said, was also inexpedient: severity often increases crime; if the punishment is too great, people will sympathize with offenders and will not inform against them. Said Mr. Mosely: "When the penalty is excessive or disproportioned to the offence, it will naturally create a repugnance to the law, and render its execution odious."[47] John Randolph argued against even fine and imprisonment, "on the ground that such an excessive penalty could not, in such case, be constitutionally imposed by a Government possessed of the limited powers of the Government of the United States."[48] The bill as passed punished infractions as follows:-- For equipping a slaver, a fine of $20,000 and forfeiture of the ship. For transporting Negroes, a fine of $5000 and forfeiture of the ship and Negroes. For transporting and selling Negroes, a fine of $1000 to $10,000, imprisonment from 5 to 10 years, and forfeiture of the ship and Negroes. For knowingly buying illegally imported Negroes, a fine of $800 for each Negro, and forfeiture. 58. ~The Third Question: How shall the Interstate Coastwise Slave-Trade be protected?~ The first proposition was to prohibit the coastwise slave-trade altogether,[49] but an amendment reported to the House allowed it "in any vessel or species of craft whatever." It is probable that the first proposition would have prevailed, had it not been for the vehement opposition of Randolph and Early.[50] They probably foresaw the value which Virginia would derive from this trade in the future, and consequently Randolph violently declared that if the amendment did not prevail, "the Southern people would set the law at defiance. He would begin the example." He maintained that by the first proposition "the proprietor of sacred and chartered rights is prevented the Constitutional use of his property."[51] The Conference Committee finally arranged a compromise, forbidding the coastwise trade for purposes of sale in vessels under forty tons.[52] This did not suit Early, who declared that the law with this provision "would not prevent the introduction of a single slave."[53] Randolph, too, would "rather lose the bill, he had rather lose all the bills of the session, he had rather lose every bill passed since the establishment of the Government, than agree to the provision contained in this slave bill."[54] He predicted the severance of the slave and the free States, if disunion should ever come. Congress was, however, weary with the dragging of the bill, and it passed both Houses with the compromise provision. Randolph was so dissatisfied that he had a committee appointed the next day, and introduced an amendatory bill. Both this bill and another similar one, introduced at the next session, failed of consideration.[55] 59. ~Legislative History of the Bill.~[56] On December 12, 1805, Senator Stephen R. Bradley of Vermont gave notice of a bill to prohibit the introduction of slaves after 1808. By a vote of 18 to 9 leave was given, and the bill read a first time on the 17th. On the 18th, however, it was postponed until "the first Monday in December, 1806." The presidential message mentioning the matter, Senator Bradley, December 3, 1806, gave notice of a similar bill, which was brought in on the 8th, and on the 9th referred to a committee consisting of Bradley, Stone, Giles, Gaillard, and Baldwin. This bill passed, after some consideration, January 27. It provided, among other things, that violations of the act should be felony, punishable with death, and forbade the interstate coast-trade.[57] Meantime, in the House, Mr. Bidwell of Massachusetts had proposed, February 4, 1806, as an amendment to a bill taxing slaves imported, that importation after December 31, 1807, be prohibited, on pain of fine and imprisonment and forfeiture of ship.[58] This was rejected by a vote of 86 to 17. On December 3, 1806, the House, in appointing committees on the message, "_Ordered_, That Mr. Early, Mr. Thomas M. Randolph, Mr. John Campbell, Mr. Kenan, Mr. Cook, Mr. Kelly, and Mr. Van Rensselaer be appointed a committee" on the slave-trade. This committee reported a bill on the 15th, which was considered, but finally, December 18, recommitted. It was reported in an amended form on the 19th, and amended in Committee of the Whole so as to make violation a misdemeanor punishable by fine and imprisonment, instead of a felony punishable by death.[59] A struggle over the disposal of the cargo then ensued. A motion by Bidwell to except the cargo from forfeiture was lost, 77 to 39. Another motion by Bidwell may be considered the crucial vote on the whole bill: it was an amendment to the forfeiture clause, and read, _"Provided, that no person shall be sold as a slave by virtue of this act."_[60] This resulted in a tie vote, 60 to 60; but the casting vote of the Speaker, Macon of North Carolina, defeated it. New England voted solidly in favor of it, the Middle States stood 4 for and 2 against it, and the six Southern States stood solid against it. On January 8 the bill went again to a select committee of seventeen, by a vote of 76 to 46. The bill was reported back amended January 20, and on the 28th the Senate bill was also presented to the House. On the 9th, 10th, and 11th of February both bills were considered in Committee of the Whole, and the Senate bill finally replaced the House bill, after several amendments had been made.[61] The bill was then passed, by a vote of 113 to 5.[62] The Senate agreed to the amendments, including that substituting fine and imprisonment for the death penalty, but asked for a conference on the provision which left the interstate coast-trade free. The six conferees succeeded in bringing the Houses to agree, by limiting the trade to vessels over forty tons and requiring registry of the slaves.[63] The following diagram shows in graphic form the legislative history of the act:--[64] _Senate._ _1805._ _House._ Bradley gives notice. + Dec. 12. Leave given; bill read. + 17. Postponed one year. + 18. | _1806._ Feb. 4. + Bidwell's amendment. Notice. + Dec. 3. + Committee on Bill introduced. + 8. | slave trade. Committed. + 9. | | 15. + Bill reported. | 17. | | 18. | | 19. | | 23. | | 29. | | 31. | | _1807._ | | Jan. 5. | | 7. | | 8. + Read third time; Reported. + 15. | recommitted. | 16. | | 20. + Reported Third reading. + 26. | amended. PASSED. + 27. | \ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ | 28. | | Senate bill Feb. 9. | | reported. 10. | | 11. + | Senate bill 12. | amended. Reported from House. 13. + PASSED. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ | Reported to House. | 17. Reported back. - - - - - - - - - - - 18. | House insists; - - - - - - - - - - - asks conference. \ / - - _ __ - - - - - - X House asks conference. _ _ _/ \_ __ \ _ 2|5 - - - -_ Conference report _ _ _ _ _ _-|- - - - - adopted. Conference report / 2|6 adopted. \_ _ _ | Bill enrolled. - - - -2|8 March |2. V Signed by the President. This bill received the approval of President Jefferson, March 2, 1807, and became thus the "Act to prohibit the importation of Slaves into any port or place within the jurisdiction of the United States, from and after the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eight."[65] The debates in the Senate were not reported. Those in the House were prolonged and bitter, and hinged especially on the disposal of the slaves, the punishment of offenders, and the coast-trade. Men were continually changing their votes, and the bill see-sawed backward and forward, in committee and out, until the House was thoroughly worn out. On the whole, the strong anti-slavery men, like Bidwell and Sloan, were outgeneraled by Southerners, like Early and Williams; and, considering the immense moral backing of the anti-slavery party from the Revolutionary fathers down, the bill of 1807 can hardly be regarded as a great anti-slavery victory. 60. ~Enforcement of the Act.~ The period so confidently looked forward to by the constitutional fathers had at last arrived; the slave-trade was prohibited, and much oratory and poetry were expended in celebration of the event. In the face of this, let us see how the Act of 1807 was enforced and what it really accomplished. It is noticeable, in the first place, that there was no especial set of machinery provided for the enforcement of this act. The work fell first to the Secretary of the Treasury, as head of the customs collection. Then, through the activity of cruisers, the Secretary of the Navy gradually came to have oversight, and eventually the whole matter was lodged with him, although the Departments of State and War were more or less active on different occasions. Later, at the advent of the Lincoln government, the Department of the Interior was charged with the enforcement of the slave-trade laws. It would indeed be surprising if, amid so much uncertainty and shifting of responsibility, the law were not poorly enforced. Poor enforcement, moreover, in the years 1808 to 1820 meant far more than at almost any other period; for these years were, all over the European world, a time of stirring economic change, and the set which forces might then take would in a later period be unchangeable without a cataclysm. Perhaps from 1808 to 1814, in the midst of agitation and war, there was some excuse for carelessness. From 1814 on, however, no such palliation existed, and the law was probably enforced as the people who made it wished it enforced. Most of the Southern States rather tardily passed the necessary supplementary acts disposing of illegally imported Africans. A few appear not to have passed any. Some of these laws, like the Alabama-Mississippi Territory Act of 1815,[66] directed such Negroes to be "sold by the proper officer of the court, to the highest bidder, at public auction, for ready money." One-half the proceeds went to the informer or to the collector of customs, the other half to the public treasury. Other acts, like that of North Carolina in 1816,[67] directed the Negroes to "be sold and disposed of for the use of the state." One-fifth of the proceeds went to the informer. The Georgia Act of 1817[68] directed that the slaves be either sold or given to the Colonization Society for transportation, providing the society reimburse the State for all expense incurred, and pay for the transportation. In this manner, machinery of somewhat clumsy build and varying pattern was provided for the carrying out of the national act. 61. ~Evidence of the Continuance of the Trade.~ Undoubtedly, the Act of 1807 came very near being a dead letter. The testimony supporting this view is voluminous. It consists of presidential messages, reports of cabinet officers, letters of collectors of revenue, letters of district attorneys, reports of committees of Congress, reports of naval commanders, statements made on the floor of Congress, the testimony of eye-witnesses, and the complaints of home and foreign anti-slavery societies. "When I was young," writes Mr. Fowler of Connecticut, "the slave-trade was still carried on, by Connecticut shipmasters and Merchant adventurers, for the supply of southern ports. This trade was carried on by the consent of the Southern States, under the provisions of the Federal Constitution, until 1808, and, after that time, clandestinely. There was a good deal of conversation on the subject, in private circles." Other States were said to be even more involved than Connecticut.[69] The African Society of London estimated that, down to 1816, fifteen of the sixty thousand slaves annually taken from Africa were shipped by Americans. "Notwithstanding the prohibitory act of America, which was passed in 1807, ships bearing the American flag continued to trade for slaves until 1809, when, in consequence of a decision in the English prize appeal courts, which rendered American slave ships liable to capture and condemnation, that flag suddenly disappeared from the coast. Its place was almost instantaneously supplied by the Spanish flag, which, with one or two exceptions, was now seen for the first time on the African coast, engaged in covering the slave trade. This sudden substitution of the Spanish for the American flag seemed to confirm what was established in a variety of instances by more direct testimony, that the slave trade, which now, for the first time, assumed a Spanish dress, was in reality only the trade of other nations in disguise."[70] So notorious did the participation of Americans in the traffic become, that President Madison informed Congress in his message, December 5, 1810, that "it appears that American citizens are instrumental in carrying on a traffic in enslaved Africans, equally in violation of the laws of humanity, and in defiance of those of their own country. The same just and benevolent motives which produced the interdiction in force against this criminal conduct, will doubtless be felt by Congress, in devising further means of suppressing the evil."[71] The Secretary of the Navy wrote the same year to Charleston, South Carolina: "I hear, not without great concern, that the law prohibiting the importation of slaves has been violated in frequent instances, near St. Mary's."[72] Testimony as to violations of the law and suggestions for improving it also came in from district attorneys.[73] The method of introducing Negroes was simple. A slave smuggler says: "After resting a few days at St. Augustine, ... I agreed to accompany Diego on a land trip through the United States, where a _kaffle_ of negroes was to precede us, for whose disposal the shrewd Portuguese had already made arrangements with my uncle's consignees. I soon learned how readily, and at what profits, the Florida negroes were sold into the neighboring American States. The _kaffle_, under charge of negro drivers, was to strike up the Escambia River, and thence cross the boundary into Georgia, where some of our wild Africans were mixed with various squads of native blacks, and driven inland, till sold off, singly or by couples, on the road. At this period [1812], the United States had declared the African slave trade illegal, and passed stringent laws to prevent the importation of negroes; yet the Spanish possessions were thriving on this inland exchange of negroes and mulattoes; Florida was a sort of nursery for slave-breeders, and many American citizens grew rich by trafficking in Guinea negroes, and smuggling them continually, in small parties, through the southern United States. At the time I mention, the business was a lively one, owing to the war then going on between the States and England, and the unsettled condition of affairs on the border."[74] The Spanish flag continued to cover American slave-traders. The rapid rise of privateering during the war was not caused solely by patriotic motives; for many armed ships fitted out in the United States obtained a thin Spanish disguise at Havana, and transported thousands of slaves to Brazil and the West Indies. Sometimes all disguise was thrown aside, and the American flag appeared on the slave coast, as in the cases of the "Paz,"[75] the "Rebecca," the "Rosa"[76] (formerly the privateer "Commodore Perry"), the "Dorset" of Baltimore,[77] and the "Saucy Jack."[78] Governor McCarthy of Sierra Leone wrote, in 1817: "The slave trade is carried on most vigorously by the Spaniards, Portuguese, Americans and French. I have had it affirmed from several quarters, and do believe it to be a fact, that there is a greater number of vessels employed in that traffic than at any former period."[79] 62. ~Apathy of the Federal Government.~ The United States cruisers succeeded now and then in capturing a slaver, like the "Eugene," which was taken when within four miles of the New Orleans bar.[80] President Madison again, in 1816, urged Congress to act on account of the "violations and evasions which, it is suggested, are chargeable on unworthy citizens, who mingle in the slave trade under foreign flags, and with foreign ports; and by collusive importations of slaves into the United States, through adjoining ports and territories."[81] The executive was continually in receipt of ample evidence of this illicit trade and of the helplessness of officers of the law. In 1817 it was reported to the Secretary of the Navy that most of the goods carried to Galveston were brought into the United States; "the more valuable, and the slaves are smuggled in through the numerous inlets to the westward, where the people are but too much disposed to render them every possible assistance. Several hundred slaves are now at Galveston, and persons have gone from New-Orleans to purchase them. Every exertion will be made to intercept them, but I have little hopes of success."[82] Similar letters from naval officers and collectors showed that a system of slave piracy had arisen since the war, and that at Galveston there was an establishment of organized brigands, who did not go to the trouble of sailing to Africa for their slaves, but simply captured slavers and sold their cargoes into the United States. This Galveston nest had, in 1817, eleven armed vessels to prosecute the work, and "the most shameful violations of the slave act, as well as our revenue laws, continue to be practised."[83] Cargoes of as many as three hundred slaves were arriving in Texas. All this took place under Aury, the buccaneer governor; and when he removed to Amelia Island in 1817 with the McGregor raid, the illicit traffic in slaves, which had been going on there for years,[84] took an impulse that brought it even to the somewhat deaf ears of Collector Bullock. He reported, May 22, 1817: "I have just received information from a source on which I can implicitly rely, that it has already become the practice to introduce into the state of Georgia, across the St. Mary's River, from Amelia Island, East Florida, Africans, who have been carried into the Port of Fernandina, subsequent to the capture of it by the Patriot army now in possession of it ...; were the legislature to pass an act giving compensation in some manner to informers, it would have a tendency in a great degree to prevent the practice; as the thing now is, no citizen will take the trouble of searching for and detecting the slaves. I further understand, that the evil will not be confined altogether to Africans, but will be extended to the worst class of West India slaves."[85] Undoubtedly, the injury done by these pirates to the regular slave-trading interests was largely instrumental in exterminating them. Late in 1817 United States troops seized Amelia Island, and President Monroe felicitated Congress and the country upon escaping the "annoyance and injury" of this illicit trade.[86] The trade, however, seems to have continued, as is shown by such letters as the following, written three and a half months later:-- PORT OF DARIEN, March 14, 1818. ... It is a painful duty, sir, to express to you, that I am in possession of undoubted information, that African and West India negroes are almost daily illicitly introduced into Georgia, for sale or settlement, or passing through it to the territories of the United States for similar purposes; these facts are notorious; and it is not unusual to see such negroes in the streets of St. Mary's, and such too, recently captured by our vessels of war, and ordered to Savannah, were illegally bartered by hundreds in that city, _for_ this bartering or bonding (as _it is called_, but in reality _selling_,) actually took place before any decision had [been] passed by the court respecting them. I cannot but again express to you, sir, that these irregularities and mocking of the laws, by men who understand them, and who, it was presumed, would have respected them, are such, that it requires the immediate interposition of Congress to effect a suppression of this traffic; for, as things are, should a faithful officer of the government apprehend such negroes, to avoid the penalties imposed by the laws, the proprietors disclaim them, and some agent of the executive demands a delivery of the same to him, who may employ them as he pleases, or effect a sale by way of a bond, for the restoration of the negroes when legally called on so to do; which bond, it is _understood_, is to be _forfeited_, as the amount of the bond is so much less than the value of the property.... There are many negroes ... recently introduced into this state and the Alabama territory, and which can be apprehended. The undertaking would be great; but to be sensible that we shall possess your approbation, and that we are carrying the views and wishes of the government into execution, is all we wish, and it shall be done, independent of every personal consideration. I have, etc.[87] This "approbation" failed to come to the zealous collector, and on the 5th of July he wrote that, "not being favored with a reply," he has been obliged to deliver over to the governor's agents ninety-one illegally imported Negroes.[88] Reports from other districts corroborate this testimony. The collector at Mobile writes of strange proceedings on the part of the courts.[89] General D.B. Mitchell, ex-governor of Georgia and United States Indian agent, after an investigation in 1821 by Attorney-General Wirt, was found "guilty of having prostituted his power, as agent for Indian affairs at the Creek agency, to the purpose of aiding and assisting in a conscious breach of the act of Congress of 1807, in prohibition of the slave trade--and this from mercenary motives."[90] The indefatigable Collector Chew of New Orleans wrote to Washington that, "to put a stop to that traffic, a naval force suitable to those waters is indispensable," and that "vast numbers of slaves will be introduced to an alarming extent, unless prompt and effectual measures are adopted by the general government."[91] Other collectors continually reported infractions, complaining that they could get no assistance from the citizens,[92] or plaintively asking the services of "one small cutter."[93] Meantime, what was the response of the government to such representations, and what efforts were made to enforce the act? A few unsystematic and spasmodic attempts are recorded. In 1811 some special instructions were sent out,[94] and the President was authorized to seize Amelia Island.[95] Then came the war; and as late as November 15, 1818, in spite of the complaints of collectors, we find no revenue cutter on the Gulf coast.[96] During the years 1817 and 1818[97] some cruisers went there irregularly, but they were too large to be effective; and the partial suppression of the Amelia Island pirates was all that was accomplished. On the whole, the efforts of the government lacked plan, energy, and often sincerity. Some captures of slavers were made;[98] but, as the collector at Mobile wrote, anent certain cases, "this was owing rather to accident, than any well-timed arrangement." He adds: "from the Chandalier Islands to the Perdido river, including the coast, and numerous other islands, we have only a small boat, with four men and an inspector, to oppose to the whole confederacy of smugglers and pirates."[99] To cap the climax, the government officials were so negligent that Secretary Crawford, in 1820, confessed to Congress that "it appears, from an examination of the records of this office, that no particular instructions have ever been given, by the Secretary of the Treasury, under the original or supplementary acts prohibiting the introduction of slaves into the United States."[100] Beside this inactivity, the government was criminally negligent in not prosecuting and punishing offenders when captured. Urgent appeals for instruction from prosecuting attorneys were too often received in official silence; complaints as to the violation of law by State officers went unheeded;[101] informers were unprotected and sometimes driven from home.[102] Indeed, the most severe comment on the whole period is the report, January 7, 1819, of the Register of the Treasury, who, after the wholesale and open violation of the Act of 1807, reported, in response to a request from the House, "that it doth not appear, from an examination of the records of this office, and particularly of the accounts (to the date of their last settlement) of the collectors of the customs, and of the several marshals of the United States, that any forfeitures had been incurred under the said act."[103] 63. ~Typical Cases.~ At this date (January 7, 1819), however, certain cases were stated to be pending, a history of which will fitly conclude this discussion. In 1818 three American schooners sailed from the United States to Havana; on June 2 they started back with cargoes aggregating one hundred and seven slaves. The schooner "Constitution" was captured by one of Andrew Jackson's officers under the guns of Fort Barancas. The "Louisa" and "Marino" were captured by Lieutenant McKeever of the United States Navy. The three vessels were duly proceeded against at Mobile, and the case began slowly to drag along. The slaves, instead of being put under the care of the zealous marshal of the district, were placed in the hands of three bondsmen, friends of the judge. The marshal notified the government of this irregularity, but apparently received no answer. In 1822 the three vessels were condemned as forfeited, but the court "reserved" for future order the distribution of the slaves. Nothing whatever either then or later was done to the slave-traders themselves. The owners of the ships promptly appealed to the Supreme Court of the United States, and that tribunal, in 1824, condemned the three vessels and the slaves on two of them.[104] These slaves, considerably reduced in number "from various causes," were sold at auction for the benefit of the State, in spite of the Act of 1819. Meantime, before the decision of the Supreme Court, the judge of the Supreme Court of West Florida had awarded to certain alleged Spanish claimants of the slaves indemnity for nearly the whole number seized, at the price of $650 per head, and the Secretary of the Treasury had actually paid the claim.[105] In 1826 Lieutenant McKeever urgently petitions Congress for his prize-money of $4,415.15, which he has not yet received.[106] The "Constitution" was for some inexplicable reason released from bond, and the whole case fades in a very thick cloud of official mist. In 1831 Congress sought to inquire into the final disposition of the slaves. The information given was never printed; but as late as 1836 a certain Calvin Mickle petitions Congress for reimbursement for the slaves sold, for their hire, for their natural increase, for expenses incurred, and for damages.[107] 64. ~The Supplementary Acts, 1818-1820.~ To remedy the obvious defects of the Act of 1807 two courses were possible: one, to minimize the crime of transportation, and, by encouraging informers, to concentrate efforts against the buying of smuggled slaves; the other, to make the crime of transportation so great that no slaves would be imported. The Act of 1818 tried the first method; that of 1819, the second.[108] The latter was obviously the more upright and logical, and the only method deserving thought even in 1807; but the Act of 1818 was the natural descendant of that series of compromises which began in the Constitutional Convention, and which, instead of postponing the settlement of critical questions to more favorable times, rather aggravated and complicated them. The immediate cause of the Act of 1818 was the Amelia Island scandal.[109] Committees in both Houses reported bills, but that of the Senate finally passed. There does not appear to have been very much debate.[110] The sale of Africans for the benefit of the informer and of the United States was strongly urged "as the only means of executing the laws against the slave trade as experience had fully demonstrated since the origin of the prohibition."[111] This proposition was naturally opposed as "inconsistent with the principles of our Government, and calculated to throw as wide open the door to the importation of slaves as it was before the existing prohibition."[112] The act, which became a law April 20, 1818,[113] was a poorly constructed compromise, which virtually acknowledged the failure of efforts to control the trade, and sought to remedy defects by pitting cupidity against cupidity, informer against thief. One-half of all forfeitures and fines were to go to the informer, and penalties for violation were changed as follows:-- For equipping a slaver, instead of a fine of $20,000, a fine of $1000 to $5000 and imprisonment from 3 to 7 years. For transporting Negroes, instead of a fine of $5000 and forfeiture of ship and Negroes, a fine of $1000 to $5000 and imprisonment from 3 to 7 years. For actual importation, instead of a fine of $1000 to $10,000 and imprisonment from 5 to 10 years, a fine of $1000 to $10,000, and imprisonment from 3 to 7 years. For knowingly buying illegally imported Negroes, instead of a fine of $800 for each Negro and forfeiture, a fine of $1000 for each Negro. The burden of proof was laid on the defendant, to the extent that he must prove that the slave in question had been imported at least five years before the prosecution. The slaves were still left to the disposal of the States. This statute was, of course, a failure from the start,[114] and at the very next session Congress took steps to revise it. A bill was reported in the House, January 13, 1819, but it was not discussed till March.[115] It finally passed, after "much debate."[116] The Senate dropped its own bill, and, after striking out the provision for the death penalty, passed the bill as it came from the House.[117] The House acquiesced, and the bill became a law, March 3, 1819,[118] in the midst of the Missouri trouble. This act directed the President to use armed cruisers on the coasts of the United States and Africa to suppress the slave-trade; one-half the proceeds of the condemned ship were to go to the captors as bounty, provided the Africans were safely lodged with a United States marshal and the crew with the civil authorities. These provisions were seriously marred by a proviso which Butler of Louisiana, had inserted, with a "due regard for the interests of the State which he represented," viz., that a captured slaver must always be returned to the port whence she sailed.[119] This, of course, secured decided advantages to Southern slave-traders. The most radical provision of the act was that which directed the President to "make such regulations and arrangements as he may deem expedient for the safe keeping, support, and removal beyond the limits of the United States, of all such negroes, mulattoes, or persons of colour, as may be so delivered and brought within their jurisdiction;" and to appoint an agent in Africa to receive such Negroes.[120] Finally, an appropriation of $100,000 was made to enforce the act.[121] This act was in some measure due to the new colonization movement; and the return of Africans recaptured was a distinct recognition of its efforts, and the real foundation of Liberia. To render this straightforward act effective, it was necessary to add but one measure, and that was a penalty commensurate with the crime of slave stealing. This was accomplished by the Act of May 15, 1820,[122] a law which may be regarded as the last of the Missouri Compromise measures. The act originated from the various bills on piracy which were introduced early in the sixteenth Congress. The House bill, in spite of opposition, was amended so as to include slave-trading under piracy, and passed. The Senate agreed without a division. This law provided that direct participation in the slave-trade should be piracy, punishable with death.[123] ----------------------+----------------------+----------------------- STATUTES AT LARGE. | DATE. | AMOUNT APPROPRIATED. ----------------------+----------------------+----------------------- VOL. PAGE | | III. 533-4 | March 3, 1819 | $100,000 " 764 | " 3, 1823 | 50,000 IV. 141 | " 14, 1826 | 32,000 " 208 | March 2, 1827 | / 36,710 | | \ 20,000 " 302 | May 24, 1828 | 30,000 " 354 | March 2, 1829 | 16,000 " 462 | " 2, 1831 | 16,000 " 615 | Feb. 20, 1833 | 5,000 " 671 | Jan. 24, 1834 | 5,000 V. 157-8 | March 3, 1837 | 11,413.57 " 501 | Aug. 4, 1842 | 10,543.42 " 615 | March 3, 1843 | 5,000 IX. 96 | Aug. 10, 1846 | 25,000 XI. 90 | " 18, 1856 | 8,000 " 227 | March 3, 1857 | 8,000 " 404 | " 3, 1859 | 75,000 XII. 21 | May 26, 1860 | 40,000 " 132 | Feb. 19, 1861 | 900,000 " 219 | March 2, 1861 | 900,000 " 639 | Feb. 4, 1863 | 17,000 XIII. 424 | Jan. 24, 1865 | 17,000 XIV. 226 | July 25, 1866 | 17,000 " 415 | Feb. 28, 1867 | 17,000 XV. 58 | March 30, 1868 | 12,500 " 321 | March 3, 1869 | 12,500 ----------------------+----------------------+----------------------- Total, 50 years $2,386,666.99 Minus surpluses re-appropriated (approximate) 48,666.99? -------------- $2,338,000 Cost of squadron, 1843-58, @ $384,500 per year (_House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. IX. No. 73) 5,767,500 Returning slaves on "Wildfire" (_Statutes at Large_, XII. 41) 250,000 Approximate cost of squadron, 1858-66, probably not less than $500,000 per year 4,000,000? --------------- Approximate money cost of suppressing the slave-trade $12,355,500? Cf. Kendall's Report: _Senate Doc._, 21 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 211-8; _Amer. State Papers, Naval_, III. No. 429 E.; also Reports of the Secretaries of the Navy from 1819 to 1860. 65. ~Enforcement of the Supplementary Acts, 1818-1825.~ A somewhat more sincere and determined effort to enforce the slave-trade laws now followed; and yet it is a significant fact that not until Lincoln's administration did a slave-trader suffer death for violating the laws of the United States. The participation of Americans in the trade continued, declining somewhat between 1825 and 1830, and then reviving, until it reached its highest activity between 1840 and 1860. The development of a vast internal slave-trade, and the consequent rise in the South of vested interests strongly opposed to slave smuggling, led to a falling off in the illicit introduction of Negroes after 1825, until the fifties; nevertheless, smuggling never entirely ceased, and large numbers were thus added to the plantations of the Gulf States. Monroe had various constitutional scruples as to the execution of the Act of 1819;[124] but, as Congress took no action, he at last put a fair interpretation on his powers, and appointed Samuel Bacon as an agent in Africa to form a settlement for recaptured Africans. Gradually the agency thus formed became merged with that of the Colonization Society on Cape Mesurado; and from this union Liberia was finally evolved.[125] Meantime, during the years 1818 to 1820, the activity of the slave-traders was prodigious. General James Tallmadge declared in the House, February 15, 1819: "Our laws are already highly penal against their introduction, and yet, it is a well known fact, that about fourteen thousand slaves have been brought into our country this last year."[126] In the same year Middleton of South Carolina and Wright of Virginia estimated illicit introduction at 13,000 and 15,000 respectively.[127] Judge Story, in charging a jury, took occasion to say: "We have but too many proofs from unquestionable sources, that it [the slave-trade] is still carried on with all the implacable rapacity of former times. Avarice has grown more subtle in its evasions, and watches and seizes its prey with an appetite quickened rather than suppressed by its guilty vigils. American citizens are steeped to their very mouths (I can hardly use too bold a figure) in this stream of iniquity."[128] The following year, 1820, brought some significant statements from various members of Congress. Said Smith of South Carolina: "Pharaoh was, for his temerity, drowned in the Red Sea, in pursuing them [the Israelites] contrary to God's express will; but our Northern friends have not been afraid even of that, in their zeal to furnish the Southern States with Africans. They are better seamen than Pharaoh, and calculate by that means to elude the vigilance of Heaven; which they seem to disregard, if they can but elude the violated laws of their country."[129] As late as May he saw little hope of suppressing the traffic.[130] Sergeant of Pennsylvania declared: "It is notorious that, in spite of the utmost vigilance that can be employed, African negroes are clandestinely brought in and sold as slaves."[131] Plumer of New Hampshire stated that "of the unhappy beings, thus in violation of all laws transported to our shores, and thrown by force into the mass of our black population, scarcely one in a hundred is ever detected by the officers of the General Government, in a part of the country, where, if we are to believe the statement of Governor Rabun, 'an officer who would perform his duty, by attempting to enforce the law [against the slave trade] is, by many, considered as an officious meddler, and treated with derision and contempt;' ... I have been told by a gentleman, who has attended particularly to this subject, that ten thousand slaves were in one year smuggled into the United States; and that, even for the last year, we must count the number not by hundreds, but by thousands."[132] In 1821 a committee of Congress characterized prevailing methods as those "of the grossest fraud that could be practised to deceive the officers of government."[133] Another committee, in 1822, after a careful examination of the subject, declare that they "find it impossible to measure with precision the effect produced upon the American branch of the slave trade by the laws above mentioned, and the seizures under them. They are unable to state, whether those American merchants, the American capital and seamen which heretofore aided in this traffic, have abandoned it altogether, or have sought shelter under the flags of other nations." They then state the suspicious circumstance that, with the disappearance of the American flag from the traffic, "the trade, notwithstanding, increases annually, under the flags of other nations." They complain of the spasmodic efforts of the executive. They say that the first United States cruiser arrived on the African coast in March, 1820, and remained a "few weeks;" that since then four others had in two years made five visits in all; but "since the middle of last November, the commencement of the healthy season on that coast, no vessel has been, nor, as your committee is informed, is, under orders for that service."[134] The United States African agent, Ayres, reported in 1823: "I was informed by an American officer who had been on the coast in 1820, that he had boarded 20 American vessels in one morning, lying in the port of Gallinas, and fitted for the reception of slaves. It is a lamentable fact, that most of the harbours, between the Senegal and the line, were visited by an equal number of American vessels, and for the sole purpose of carrying away slaves. Although for some years the coast had been occasionally visited by our cruizers, their short stay and seldom appearance had made but slight impression on those traders, rendered hardy by repetition of crime, and avaricious by excessive gain. They were enabled by a regular system to gain intelligence of any cruizer being on the coast."[135] Even such spasmodic efforts bore abundant fruit, and indicated what vigorous measures might have accomplished. Between May, 1818, and November, 1821, nearly six hundred Africans were recaptured and eleven American slavers taken.[136] Such measures gradually changed the character of the trade, and opened the international phase of the question. American slavers cleared for foreign ports, there took a foreign flag and papers, and then sailed boldly past American cruisers, although their real character was often well known. More stringent clearance laws and consular instructions might have greatly reduced this practice; but nothing was ever done, and gradually the laws became in large measure powerless to deal with the bulk of the illicit trade. In 1820, September 16, a British officer, in his official report, declares that, in spite of United States laws, "American vessels, American subjects, and American capital, are unquestionably engaged in the trade, though under other colours and in disguise."[137] The United States ship "Cyane" at one time reported ten captures within a few days, adding: "Although they are evidently owned by Americans, they are so completely covered by Spanish papers that it is impossible to condemn them."[138] The governor of Sierra Leone reported the rivers Nunez and Pongas full of renegade European and American slave-traders;[139] the trade was said to be carried on "to an extent that almost staggers belief."[140] Down to 1824 or 1825, reports from all quarters prove this activity in slave-trading. The execution of the laws within the country exhibits grave defects and even criminal negligence. Attorney-General Wirt finds it necessary to assure collectors, in 1819, that "it is against public policy to dispense with prosecutions for violation of the law to prohibit the Slave trade."[141] One district attorney writes: "It appears to be almost impossible to enforce the laws of the United States against offenders after the negroes have been landed in the state."[142] Again, it is asserted that "when vessels engaged in the slave trade have been detained by the American cruizers, and sent into the slave-holding states, there appears at once a difficulty in securing the freedom to these captives which the laws of the United States have decreed for them."[143] In some cases, one man would smuggle in the Africans and hide them in the woods; then his partner would "rob" him, and so all trace be lost.[144] Perhaps 350 Africans were officially reported as brought in contrary to law from 1818 to 1820: the absurdity of this figure is apparent.[145] A circular letter to the marshals, in 1821, brought reports of only a few well-known cases, like that of the "General Ramirez;" the marshal of Louisiana had "no information."[146] There appears to be little positive evidence of a large illicit importation into the country for a decade after 1825. It is hardly possible, however, considering the activity in the trade, that slaves were not largely imported. Indeed, when we note how the laws were continually broken in other respects, absence of evidence of petty smuggling becomes presumptive evidence that collusive or tacit understanding of officers and citizens allowed the trade to some extent.[147] Finally, it must be noted that during all this time scarcely a man suffered for participating in the trade, beyond the loss of the Africans and, more rarely, of his ship. Red-handed slavers, caught in the act and convicted, were too often, like La Coste of South Carolina, the subjects of executive clemency.[148] In certain cases there were those who even had the effrontery to ask Congress to cancel their own laws. For instance, in 1819 a Venezuelan privateer, secretly fitted out and manned by Americans in Baltimore, succeeded in capturing several American, Portuguese, and Spanish slavers, and appropriating the slaves; being finally wrecked herself, she transferred her crew and slaves to one of her prizes, the "Antelope," which was eventually captured by a United States cruiser and the 280 Africans sent to Georgia. After much litigation, the United States Supreme Court ordered those captured from Spaniards to be surrendered, and the others to be returned to Africa. By some mysterious process, only 139 Africans now remained, 100 of whom were sent to Africa. The Spanish claimants of the remaining thirty-nine sold them to a certain Mr. Wilde, who gave bond to transport them out of the country. Finally, in December, 1827, there came an innocent petition to Congress to _cancel this bond_.[149] A bill to that effect passed and was approved, May 2, 1828,[150] and in consequence these Africans remained as slaves in Georgia. On the whole, it is plain that, although in the period from 1807 to 1820 Congress laid down broad lines of legislation sufficient, save in some details, to suppress the African slave trade to America, yet the execution of these laws was criminally lax. Moreover, by the facility with which slavers could disguise their identity, it was possible for them to escape even a vigorous enforcement of our laws. This situation could properly be met only by energetic and sincere international co-operation. The next chapter will review efforts directed toward this end.[151] FOOTNOTES: [1] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 468. [2] Cf. below, § 59. [3] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 238. [4] There were at least twelve distinct propositions as to the disposal of the Africans imported:-- 1. That they be forfeited and sold by the United States at auction (Early's bill, reported Dec. 15: _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 167-8). 2. That they be forfeited and left to the disposal of the States (proposed by Bidwell and Early: _Ibid._, pp. 181, 221, 477. This was the final settlement.) 3. That they be forfeited and sold, and that the proceeds go to charities, education, or internal improvements (Early, Holland, and Masters: _Ibid._, p. 273). 4. That they be forfeited and indentured for life (Alston and Bidwell: _Ibid._, pp. 170-1). 5. That they be forfeited and indentured for 7, 8, or 10 years (Pitkin: _Ibid._, p. 186). 6. That they be forfeited and given into the custody of the President, and by him indentured in free States for a term of years (bill reported from the Senate Jan. 28: _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 575; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 477. Cf. also _Ibid._, p. 272). 7. That the Secretary of the Treasury dispose of them, at his discretion, in service (Quincy: _Ibid._, p. 183). 8. That those imported into slave States be returned to Africa or bound out in free States (Sloan: _Ibid._, p. 254). 9. That all be sent back to Africa (Smilie: _Ibid._, p. 176). 10. That those imported into free States be free, those imported into slave States be returned to Africa or indentured (Sloan: _Ibid._, p. 226). 11. That they be forfeited but not sold (Sloan and others: _Ibid._, p. 270). 12. That they be free (Sloan: _Ibid._, p. 168; Bidwell: _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 515). [5] Bidwell, Cook, and others: _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 201. [6] Bidwell: _Ibid._, p. 172. [7] Fisk: _Ibid._, pp. 224-5; Bidwell: _Ibid._, p. 221. [8] Quincy: _Ibid._, p. 184. [9] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 478; Bidwell: _Ibid._, p. 171. [10] _Ibid._, p. 172. [11] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 173-4. [12] Alston: _Ibid._, p. 170. [13] D.R. Williams: _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 183. [14] Early: _Ibid._, pp. 184-5. [15] Lloyd, Early, and others: _Ibid._, p. 203. [16] Alston: _Ibid._, p. 170. [17] Quincy: _Ibid._, p. 222; Macon: _Ibid._, p. 225. [18] Macon: _Ibid._, p. 177. [19] Barker: _Ibid._, p. 171; Bidwell: _Ibid._, p. 172. [20] Clay, Alston, and Early: _Ibid._, p. 266. [21] Clay, Alston, and Early: _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 266. [22] Bidwell: _Ibid._, p. 221. [23] Sloan and others: _Ibid._, p. 271; Early and Alston: _Ibid._, pp. 168, 171. [24] Ely, Bidwell, and others: _Ibid._, pp. 179, 181, 271; Smilie and Findley: _Ibid._, pp. 225, 226. [25] _Ibid._, p. 240. Cf. Lloyd: _Ibid._, p. 236. [26] Holland: _Ibid._, p. 241. [27] _Ibid._, p. 227; Macon: _Ibid._, p. 225. [28] Bidwell, Cook, and others: _Ibid._, p. 201. [29] Bidwell: _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 221. Cf. _Ibid._, p. 202. [30] Early: _Ibid._, p. 239. [31] _Ibid._ [32] _Ibid._, p. 1267. [33] There were about six distinct punishments suggested:-- 1. Forfeiture, and fine of $5000 to $10,000 (Early's bill: _Ibid._, p. 167). 2. Forfeiture and imprisonment (amendment to Senate bill: _Ibid._, pp. 231, 477, 483). 3. Forfeiture, imprisonment from 5 to 10 years, and fine of $1000 to $10,000 (amendment to amendment of Senate bill: _Ibid._, pp. 228, 483). 4. Forfeiture, imprisonment from 5 to 40 years, and fine of $1000 to $10,000 (Chandler's amendment: _Ibid._, p. 228). 5. Forfeiture of all property, and imprisonment (Pitkin: _Ibid._, p. 188). 6. Death (Smilie: _Ibid._, pp. 189-90; bill reported to House, Dec. 19: _Ibid._, p. 190; Senate bill as reported to House, Jan. 28). [34] Smilie: _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 189-90. [35] Tallmadge: _Ibid._, p. 233; Olin: _Ibid._, p. 237. [36] Ely: _Ibid._, p. 237. [37] Smilie: _Ibid._, p. 236. Cf. Sloan: _Ibid._, p. 232. [38] Hastings: _Ibid._, p. 228. [39] Dwight: _Ibid._, p. 241; Ely: _Ibid._, p. 232. [40] Mosely: _Ibid._, pp. 234-5. [41] Tallmadge: _Ibid._, pp. 232, 234. Cf. Dwight: _Ibid._, p. 241. [42] Varnum: _Ibid._, p. 243. [43] Elmer: _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. p. 235. [44] _Ibid._, p. 240. [45] Holland: _Ibid._, p. 240. [46] Early: _Ibid._, pp. 238-9; Holland: _Ibid._, p. 239. [47] _Ibid._, p. 233. Cf. Lloyd: _Ibid._, p. 237; Ely: _Ibid._, p. 232; Early: _Ibid._, pp. 238-9. [48] _Ibid._, p. 484. [49] This was the provision of the Senate bill as reported to the House. It was over the House amendment to this that the Houses disagreed. Cf. _Ibid._, p. 484. [50] Cf. _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 527-8. [51] _Ibid._, p. 528. [52] _Ibid._, p. 626. [53] _Ibid._ [54] _Ibid._ [55] _Ibid._, pp. 636-8; _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 616, and House Bill No. 219; _Ibid._, 10 Cong. 1 sess. VI. 27, 50; _Annals of Cong._, 10 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 854-5, 961. [56] On account of the meagre records it is difficult to follow the course of this bill. I have pieced together information from various sources, and trust that this account is approximately correct. [57] Cf. _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 9 Cong. 2 sess. IV., Senate Bill No. 41. [58] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. p. 438. Cf. above, § 53. [59] This amendment of the Committee of the Whole was adopted by a vote of 63 to 53. The New England States stood 3 to 2 for the death penalty; the Middle States were evenly divided, 3 and 3; and the South stood 5 to 0 against it, with Kentucky evenly divided. Cf. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 504. [60] _Ibid._, V. 514-5. [61] The substitution of the Senate bill was a victory for the anti-slavery party, as all battles had to be fought again. The Southern party, however, succeeded in carrying all its amendments. [62] Messrs. Betton of New Hampshire, Chittenden of Vermont, Garnett and Trigg of Virginia, and D.R. Williams of South Carolina voted against the bill: _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 585-6. [63] _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 626-7. [64] The unassigned dates refer to debates, etc. The history of the amendments and debates on the measure may be traced in the following references:-- _Senate_ (Bill No. 41). _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 20-1; 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 16, 19, 23, 33, 36, 45, 47, 68, 69, 70, 71, 79, 87, 93, etc. _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 1-2 sess. IV. 11, 112, 123, 124, 132, 133, 150, 158, 164, 165, 167, 168, etc. * * * * * _House_ (Bill No. 148). _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. p. 438; 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 114, 151, 167-8, 173-4, 180, 183, 189, 200, 202-4, 220, 228, 231, 240, 254, 264, 266-7, 270, 273, 373, 427, 477, 481, 484-6, 527, 528, etc. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 1-2 sess. V. 470, 482, 488, 490, 491, 496, 500, 504, 510, 513-6, 517, 540, 557, 575, 579, 581, 583-4, 585, 592, 594, 610, 613-5, 623, 638, 640, etc. [65] _Statutes at Large_, II. 426. There were some few attempts to obtain laws of relief from this bill: see, e.g., _Annals of Cong._, 10 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1243; 11 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 34, 36-9, 41, 43, 48, 49, 380, 465, 688, 706, 2209; _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), II Cong. 1-2 sess. VII. 100, 102, 124, etc., and Index, Senate Bill No. 8. Cf. _Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, II. No. 269. There was also one proposed amendment to make the prohibition perpetual: _Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, I. No. 244. [66] Toulmin, _Digest of the Laws of Alabama_, p. 637. [67] _Laws of North Carolina_ (revision of 1819), II. 1350. [68] Prince, _Digest_, p. 793. [69] Fowler, _Historical Status of the Negro in Connecticut_, in _Local Law_, etc., pp. 122, 126. [70] _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, p. 32. [71] _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 11 Cong. 3 sess. VII. p. 435. [72] _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 84, p. 5. [73] See, e.g., _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 11 Cong. 3 sess. VII. p. 575. [74] Drake, _Revelations of a Slave Smuggler_, p. 51. Parts of this narrative are highly colored and untrustworthy; this passage, however, has every earmark of truth, and is confirmed by many incidental allusions. [75] For accounts of these slavers, see _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, pp. 30-50. The "Paz" was an armed slaver flying the American flag. [76] Said to be owned by an Englishman, but fitted in America and manned by Americans. It was eventually captured by H.M.S. "Bann," after a hard fight. [77] Also called Spanish schooner "Triumvirate," with American supercargo, Spanish captain, and American, French, Spanish, and English crew. It was finally captured by a British vessel. [78] An American slaver of 1814, which was boarded by a British vessel. All the above cases, and many others, were proven before British courts. [79] _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, p. 51. [80] _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 12, pp. 22, 38. This slaver was after capture sent to New Orleans,--an illustration of the irony of the Act of 1807. [81] _House Journal_, 14 Cong. 2 sess. p. 15. [82] _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 36, p. 5. [83] _Ibid._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 12, pp. 8-14. See Chew's letter of Oct. 17, 1817: _Ibid._, pp. 14-16. [84] By the secret Joint Resolution and Act of 1811 (_Statutes at Large_, III. 471), Congress gave the President power to suppress the Amelia Island establishment, which was then notorious. The capture was not accomplished until 1817. [85] _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 42, pp. 10-11. Cf. Report of the House Committee, Jan. 10, 1818: "It is but too notorious that numerous infractions of the law prohibiting the importation of slaves into the United States have been perpetrated with impunity upon our southern frontier." _Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, II. No. 441. [86] Special message of Jan. 13, 1818: _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 137-9. [87] Collector McIntosh, of the District of Brunswick, Ga., to the Secretary of the Treasury. _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 42, pp. 8-9. [88] _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 42, pp. 6-7. [89] _Ibid._, pp. 11-12. [90] _Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, II. No. 529. [91] _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 42, p. 7. [92] _Ibid._, p. 6. [93] _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 82. [94] They were not general instructions, but were directed to Commander Campbell. Cf. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 84, pp. 5-6. [95] _Statutes at Large_, III. 471 ff. [96] _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 107, pp. 8-9. [97] _Ibid._, IV. No. 84. Cf. Chew's letters in _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348. [98] _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 12, pp. 22, 38; 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 100, p. 13; 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 42, p. 9, etc.; _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 85. [99] _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 107, pp. 8-9. [100] _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 77. [101] Cf. _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 42, p. 11: "The Grand Jury found true bills against the owners of the vessels, masters, and a supercargo--all of whom are discharged; why or wherefore I cannot say, except that it could not be for want of proof against them." [102] E.g., in July, 1818, one informer "will have to leave that part of the country to save his life": _Ibid._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 100, p. 9. [103] Joseph Nourse, Register of the Treasury, to Hon. W.H. Crawford, Secretary of the Treasury: _Ibid._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 107, p. 5. [104] The slaves on the "Constitution" were not condemned, for the technical reason that she was not captured by a commissioned officer of the United States navy. [105] These proceedings are very obscure, and little was said about them. The Spanish claimants were, it was alleged with much probability, but representatives of Americans. The claim was paid under the provisions of the Treaty of Florida, and included slaves whom the court afterward declared forfeited. [106] An act to relieve him was finally passed, Feb. 8, 1827, nine years after the capture. See _Statutes at Large_, VI. 357. [107] It is difficult to get at the exact facts in this complicated case. The above statement is, I think, much milder than the real facts would warrant, if thoroughly known. Cf. _House Reports_, 19 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 231; 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, pp. 62-3, etc.; 24 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 209; _Amer. State Papers, Naval_, II. No. 308. [108] The first method, represented by the Act of 1818, was favored by the South, the Senate, and the Democrats; the second method, represented by the Act of 1819, by the North, the House, and by the as yet undeveloped but growing Whig party. [109] Committees on the slave-trade were appointed by the House in 1810 and 1813; the committee of 1813 recommended a revision of the laws, but nothing was done: _Annals of Cong._, 11 Cong. 3 sess. p. 387; 12 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1074, 1090. The presidential message of 1816 led to committees on the trade in both Houses. The committee of the House of Representatives reported a joint resolution on abolishing the traffic and colonizing the Negroes, also looking toward international action. This never came to a vote: _Senate Journal_, 14 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 46, 179, 180; _House Journal_, 14 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 25, 27, 380; _House Doc_, 14 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 77. Finally, the presidential message of 1817 (_House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. p. 11), announcing the issuance of orders to suppress the Amelia Island establishment, led to two other committees in both Houses. The House committee under Middleton made a report with a bill (_Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, II. No. 441), and the Senate committee also reported a bill. [110] The Senate debates were entirely unreported, and the report of the House debates is very meagre. For the proceedings, see _Senate Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 243, 304, 315, 333, 338, 340, 348, 377, 386, 388, 391, 403, 406; _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 19, 20, 29, 51, 92, 131, 362, 410, 450, 452, 456, 468, 479, 484, 492, 505. [111] Simkins of South Carolina, Edwards of North Carolina, and Pindall: _Annals of Cong._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1740. [112] Hugh Nelson of Virginia: _Annals of Cong._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1740. [113] _Statutes at Large_, III. 450. By this act the first six sections of the Act of 1807 were repealed. [114] Or, more accurately speaking, every one realized, in view of the increased activity of the trade, that it would be a failure. [115] Nov. 18, 1818, the part of the presidential message referring to the slave-trade was given to a committee of the House, and this committee also took in hand the House bill of the previous session which the Senate bill had replaced: _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 9-19, 42, 150, 179, 330, 334, 341, 343, 352. [116] Of which little was reported: _Annals of Cong._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1430-31. Strother opposed, "for various reasons of expediency," the bounties for captors. Nelson of Virginia advocated the death penalty, and, aided by Pindall, had it inserted. The vote on the bill was 57 to 45. [117] The Senate had also had a committee at work on a bill which was reported Feb. 8, and finally postponed: _Senate Journal_, 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 234, 244, 311-2, 347. The House bill was taken up March 2: _Annals of Cong._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. p. 280. [118] _Statutes at Large_, III. 532. [119] _Annals of Cong._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. p. 1430. This insured the trial of slave-traders in a sympathetic slave State, and resulted in the "disappearance" of many captured Negroes. [120] _Statutes at Large_, III. 533. [121] The first of a long series of appropriations extending to 1869, of which a list is given on the next page. The totals are only approximately correct. Some statutes may have escaped me, and in the reports of moneys the surpluses of previous years are not always clearly distinguishable. [122] In the first session of the sixteenth Congress, two bills on piracy were introduced into the Senate, one of which passed, April 26. In the House there was a bill on piracy, and a slave-trade committee reported recommending that the slave-trade be piracy. The Senate bill and this bill were considered in Committee of the Whole, May 11, and a bill was finally passed declaring, among other things, the traffic piracy. In the Senate there was "some discussion, rather on the form than the substance of these amendments," and "they were agreed to without a division": _Senate Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 238, 241, 268, 287, 314, 331, 346, 350, 409, 412, 417, 420, 422, 424, 425; _House Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 113, 280, 453, 454, 494, 518, 520, 522, 537; _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 693-4, 2231, 2236-7, etc. The debates were not reported. [123] _Statutes at Large_, III. 600-1. This act was in reality a continuation of the piracy Act of 1819, and was only temporary. The provision was, however, continued by several acts, and finally made perpetual by the Act of Jan. 30, 1823: _Statutes at Large_, III. 510-4, 721. On March 3, 1823, it was slightly amended so as to give district courts jurisdiction. [124] Attorney-General Wirt advised him, October, 1819, that no part of the appropriation could be used to purchase land in Africa or tools for the Negroes, or as salary for the agent: _Opinions of Attorneys-General_, I. 314-7. Monroe laid the case before Congress in a special message Dec. 20, 1819 (_House Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. p. 57); but no action was taken there. [125] Cf. Kendall's Report, August, 1830: _Senate Doc._, 21 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 211-8; also see below, Chapter X. [126] Speech in the House of Representatives, Feb. 15, 1819, p. 18; published in Boston, 1849. [127] Jay, _Inquiry into American Colonization_ (1838), p. 59, note. [128] Quoted in Friends' _Facts and Observations on the Slave Trade_ (ed. 1841), pp. 7-8. [129] _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 270-1. [130] _Ibid._, p. 698. [131] _Ibid._, p. 1207. [132] _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1433. [133] Referring particularly to the case of the slaver "Plattsburg." Cf. _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, p. 10. [134] _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, p. 2. The President had in his message spoken in exhilarating tones of the success of the government in suppressing the trade. The House Committee appointed in pursuance of this passage made the above report. Their conclusions are confirmed by British reports: _Parliamentary Papers_, 1822, Vol. XXII., _Slave Trade_, Further Papers, III. p. 44. So, too, in 1823, Ashmun, the African agent, reports that thousands of slaves are being abducted. [135] Ayres to the Secretary of the Navy, Feb. 24, 1823; reprinted in _Friends' View of the African Slave-Trade_ (1824), p. 31. [136] _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, pp. 5-6. The slavers were the "Ramirez," "Endymion," "Esperanza," "Plattsburg," "Science," "Alexander," "Eugene," "Mathilde," "Daphne," "Eliza," and "La Pensée." In these 573 Africans were taken. The naval officers were greatly handicapped by the size of the ships, etc. (cf. _Friends' View_, etc., pp. 33-41). They nevertheless acted with great zeal. [137] _Parliamentary Papers_, 1821, Vol. XXIII., _Slave Trade_, Further Papers, A, p. 76. The names and description of a dozen or more American slavers are given: _Ibid._, pp. 18-21. [138] _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, pp. 15-20. [139] _House Doc._, 18 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 119, p. 13. [140] _Parliamentary Papers_, 1823, Vol. XVIII., _Slave Trade_, Further Papers, A, pp. 10-11. [141] _Opinions of Attorneys-General_, V. 717. [142] R.W. Habersham to the Secretary of the Navy, August, 1821; reprinted in _Friends' View_, etc., p. 47. [143] _Ibid._, p. 42. [144] _Ibid._, p. 43. [145] Cf. above, pp. 126-7. [146] _Friends' View_, etc., p. 42. [147] A few accounts of captures here and there would make the matter less suspicious; these, however, do not occur. How large this suspected illicit traffic was, it is of course impossible to say; there is no reason why it may not have reached many hundreds per year. [148] Cf. editorial in _Niles's Register_, XXII. 114. Cf. also the following instances of pardons:-- PRESIDENT JEFFERSON: March 1, 1808, Phillip M. Topham, convicted for "carrying on an illegal slave-trade" (pardoned twice). _Pardons and Remissions_, I. 146, 148-9. PRESIDENT MADISON: July 29, 1809, fifteen vessels arrived at New Orleans from Cuba, with 666 white persons and 683 negroes. Every penalty incurred under the Act of 1807 was remitted. (Note: "Several other pardons of this nature were granted.") _Ibid._, I. 179. Nov. 8, 1809, John Hopkins and Lewis Le Roy, convicted for importing a slave. _Ibid._, I. 184-5. Feb. 12, 1810, William Sewall, convicted for importing slaves. _Ibid._, I. 194, 235, 240. May 5, 1812, William Babbit, convicted for importing slaves. _Ibid._, I. 248. PRESIDENT MONROE: June 11, 1822, Thomas Shields, convicted for bringing slaves into New Orleans. _Ibid._, IV. 15. Aug. 24, 1822, J.F. Smith, sentenced to five years' imprisonment and $3000 fine; served twenty-five months and was then pardoned. _Ibid._, IV. 22. July 23, 1823, certain parties liable to penalties for introducing slaves into Alabama. _Ibid._, IV. 63. Aug. 15, 1823, owners of schooner "Mary," convicted of importing slaves. _Ibid._, IV. 66. PRESIDENT J.Q. ADAMS: March 4, 1826, Robert Perry; his ship was forfeited for slave-trading. _Ibid._, IV. 140. Jan. 17, 1827, Jesse Perry; forfeited ship, and was convicted for introducing slaves. _Ibid._, IV. 158. Feb. 13, 1827, Zenas Winston; incurred penalties for slave-trading. _Ibid._, IV. 161. The four following cases are similar to that of Winston:-- Feb. 24, 1827, John Tucker and William Morbon. _Ibid._, IV. 162. March 25, 1828, Joseph Badger. _Ibid._, IV. 192. Feb. 19, 1829, L.R. Wallace. _Ibid._, IV. 215. PRESIDENT JACKSON: Five cases. _Ibid._, IV. 225, 270, 301, 393, 440. The above cases were taken from manuscript copies of the Washington records, made by Mr. W.C. Endicott, Jr., and kindly loaned me. [149] See _Senate Journal_, 20 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 60, 66, 340, 341, 343, 348, 352, 355; _House Journal_, 20 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 59, 76, 123, 134, 156, 169, 173, 279, 634, 641, 646, 647, 688, 692. [150] _Statutes at Large_, VI. 376. [151] Among interesting minor proceedings in this period were two Senate bills to register slaves so as to prevent illegal importation. They were both dropped in the House; a House proposition to the same effect also came to nothing: _Senate Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 147, 152, 157, 165, 170, 188, 201, 203, 232, 237; 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 63, 74, 77, 202, 207, 285, 291, 297; _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. p. 332; 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 303, 305, 316; 16 Cong. 1 sess. p. 150. Another proposition was contained in the Meigs resolution presented to the House, Feb. 5, 1820, which proposed to devote the public lands to the suppression of the slave-trade. This was ruled out of order. It was presented again and laid on the table in 1821: _House Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 196, 200, 227; 16 Cong. 2 sess. p. 238. * * * * * _Chapter IX_ THE INTERNATIONAL STATUS OF THE SLAVE-TRADE. 1783-1862. 66. The Rise of the Movement against the Slave-Trade, 1788-1807. 67. Concerted Action of the Powers, 1783-1814. 68. Action of the Powers from 1814 to 1820. 69. The Struggle for an International Right of Search, 1820-1840. 70. Negotiations of 1823-1825. 71. The Attitude of the United States and the State of the Slave-Trade. 72. The Quintuple Treaty, 1839-1842. 73. Final Concerted Measures, 1842-1862. 66. ~The Rise of the Movement against the Slave-Trade, 1788-1807.~ At the beginning of the nineteenth century England held 800,000 slaves in her colonies; France, 250,000; Denmark, 27,000; Spain and Portugal, 600,000; Holland, 50,000; Sweden, 600; there were also about 2,000,000 slaves in Brazil, and about 900,000 in the United States.[1] This was the powerful basis of the demand for the slave-trade; and against the economic forces which these four and a half millions of enforced laborers represented, the battle for freedom had to be fought. Denmark first responded to the denunciatory cries of the eighteenth century against slavery and the slave-trade. In 1792, by royal order, this traffic was prohibited in the Danish possessions after 1802. The principles of the French Revolution logically called for the extinction of the slave system by France. This was, however, accomplished more precipitately than the Convention anticipated; and in a whirl of enthusiasm engendered by the appearance of the Dominican deputies, slavery and the slave-trade were abolished in all French colonies February 4, 1794.[2] This abolition was short-lived; for at the command of the First Consul slavery and the slave-trade was restored in An X (1799).[3] The trade was finally abolished by Napoleon during the Hundred Days by a decree, March 29, 1815, which briefly declared: "À dater de la publication du présent Décret, la Traite des Noirs est abolie."[4] The Treaty of Paris eventually confirmed this law.[5] In England, the united efforts of Sharpe, Clarkson, and Wilberforce early began to arouse public opinion by means of agitation and pamphlet literature. May 21, 1788, Sir William Dolben moved a bill regulating the trade, which passed in July and was the last English measure countenancing the traffic.[6] The report of the Privy Council on the subject in 1789[7] precipitated the long struggle. On motion of Pitt, in 1788, the House had resolved to take up at the next session the question of the abolition of the trade.[8] It was, accordingly, called up by Wilberforce, and a remarkable parliamentary battle ensued, which lasted continuously until 1805. The Grenville-Fox ministry now espoused the cause. This ministry first prohibited the trade with such colonies as England had acquired by conquest during the Napoleonic wars; then, in 1806, they prohibited the foreign slave-trade; and finally, March 25, 1807, enacted the total abolition of the traffic.[9] 67. ~Concerted Action of the Powers, 1783-1814.~ During the peace negotiations between the United States and Great Britain in 1783, it was proposed by Jay, in June, that there be a proviso inserted as follows: "Provided that the subjects of his Britannic Majesty shall not have any right or claim under the convention, to carry or import, into the said States any slaves from any part of the world; it being the intention of the said States entirely to prohibit the importation thereof."[10] Fox promptly replied: "If that be their policy, it never can be competent to us to dispute with them their own regulations."[11] No mention of this was, however, made in the final treaty, probably because it was thought unnecessary. In the proposed treaty of 1806, signed at London December 31, Article 24 provided that "The high contracting parties engage to communicate to each other, without delay, all such laws as have been or shall be hereafter enacted by their respective Legislatures, as also all measures which shall have been taken for the abolition or limitation of the African slave trade; and they further agree to use their best endeavors to procure the co-operation of other Powers for the final and complete abolition of a trade so repugnant to the principles of justice and humanity."[12] This marks the beginning of a long series of treaties between England and other powers looking toward the prohibition of the traffic by international agreement. During the years 1810-1814 she signed treaties relating to the subject with Portugal, Denmark, and Sweden.[13] May 30, 1814, an additional article to the Treaty of Paris, between France and Great Britain, engaged these powers to endeavor to induce the approaching Congress at Vienna "to decree the abolition of the Slave Trade, so that the said Trade shall cease universally, as it shall cease definitively, under any circumstances, on the part of the French Government, in the course of 5 years; and that during the said period no Slave Merchant shall import or sell Slaves, except in the Colonies of the State of which he is a Subject."[14] In addition to this, the next day a circular letter was despatched by Castlereagh to Austria, Russia, and Prussia, expressing the hope "that the Powers of Europe, when restoring Peace to Europe, with one common interest, will crown this great work by interposing their benign offices in favour of those Regions of the Globe, which yet continue to be desolated by this unnatural and inhuman traffic."[15] Meantime additional treaties were secured: in 1814 by royal decree Netherlands agreed to abolish the trade;[16] Spain was induced by her necessities to restrain her trade to her own colonies, and to endeavor to prevent the fraudulent use of her flag by foreigners;[17] and in 1815 Portugal agreed to abolish the slave-trade north of the equator.[18] 68. ~Action of the Powers from 1814 to 1820.~ At the Congress of Vienna, which assembled late in 1814, Castlereagh was indefatigable in his endeavors to secure the abolition of the trade. France and Spain, however, refused to yield farther than they had already done, and the other powers hesitated to go to the lengths he recommended. Nevertheless, he secured the institution of annual conferences on the matter, and a declaration by the Congress strongly condemning the trade and declaring that "the public voice in all civilized countries was raised to demand its suppression as soon as possible," and that, while the definitive period of termination would be left to subsequent negotiation, the sovereigns would not consider their work done until the trade was entirely suppressed.[19] In the Treaty of Ghent, between Great Britain and the United States, ratified February 17, 1815, Article 10, proposed by Great Britain, declared that, "Whereas the traffic in slaves is irreconcilable with the principles of humanity and justice," the two countries agreed to use their best endeavors in abolishing the trade.[20] The final overthrow of Napoleon was marked by a second declaration of the powers, who, "desiring to give effect to the measures on which they deliberated at the Congress of Vienna, relative to the complete and universal abolition of the Slave Trade, and having, each in their respective Dominions, prohibited without restriction their Colonies and Subjects from taking any part whatever in this Traffic, engage to renew conjointly their efforts, with the view of securing final success to those principles which they proclaimed in the Declaration of the 4th February, 1815, and of concerting, without loss of time, through their Ministers at the Courts of London and of Paris, the most effectual measures for the entire and definitive abolition of a Commerce so odious, and so strongly condemned by the laws of religion and of nature."[21] Treaties further restricting the trade continued to be made by Great Britain: Spain abolished the trade north of the equator in 1817,[22] and promised entire abolition in 1820; Spain, Portugal, and Holland also granted a mutual limited Right of Search to England, and joined in establishing mixed courts.[23] The effort, however, to secure a general declaration of the powers urging, if not compelling, the abolition of the trade in 1820, as well as the attempt to secure a qualified international Right of Visit, failed, although both propositions were strongly urged by England at the Conference of 1818.[24] 69. ~The Struggle for an International Right of Search, 1820-1840.~ Whatever England's motives were, it is certain that only a limited international Right of Visit on the high seas could suppress or greatly limit the slave-trade. Her diplomacy was therefore henceforth directed to this end. On the other hand, the maritime supremacy of England, so successfully asserted during the Napoleonic wars, would, in case a Right of Search were granted, virtually make England the policeman of the seas; and if nations like the United States had already, under present conditions, had just cause to complain of violations by England of their rights on the seas, might not any extension of rights by international agreement be dangerous? It was such considerations that for many years brought the powers to a dead-lock in their efforts to suppress the slave-trade. At first it looked as if England might attempt, by judicial decisions in her own courts, to seize even foreign slavers.[25] After the war, however, her courts disavowed such action,[26] and the right was sought for by treaty stipulation. Castlereagh took early opportunity to approach the United States on the matter, suggesting to Minister Rush, June 20, 1818, a mutual but strictly limited Right of Search.[27] Rush was ordered to give him assurances of the solicitude of the United States to suppress the traffic, but to state that the concessions asked for appeared of a character not adaptable to our institutions. Negotiations were then transferred to Washington; and the new British minister, Mr. Stratford Canning, approached Adams with full instructions in December, 1820.[28] Meantime, it had become clear to many in the United States that the individual efforts of States could never suppress or even limit the trade without systematic co-operation. In 1817 a committee of the House had urged the opening of negotiations looking toward such international co-operation,[29] and a Senate motion to the same effect had caused long debate.[30] In 1820 and 1821 two House committee reports, one of which recommended the granting of a Right of Search, were adopted by the House, but failed in the Senate.[31] Adams, notwithstanding this, saw constitutional objections to the plan proposed by Canning, and wrote to him, December 30: "A Compact, giving the power to the Naval Officers of one Nation to search the Merchant Vessels of another for Offenders and offences against the Laws of the latter, backed by a further power to seize and carry into a Foreign Port, and there subject to the decision of a Tribunal composed of at least one half Foreigners, irresponsible to the Supreme Corrective tribunal of this Union, and not amendable to the controul of impeachment for official misdemeanors, was an investment of power, over the persons, property and reputation of the Citizens of this Country, not only unwarranted by any delegation of Sovereign Power to the National Government, but so adverse to the elementary principles and indispensable securities of individual rights, ... that not even the most unqualified approbation of the ends ... could justify the transgression." He then suggested co-operation of the fleets on the coast of Africa, a proposal which was promptly accepted.[32] The slave-trade was again a subject of international consideration at the Congress of Verona in 1822. Austria, France, Great Britain, Russia, and Prussia were represented. The English delegates declared that, although only Portugal and Brazil allowed the trade, yet the traffic was at that moment carried on to a greater extent than ever before. They said that in seven months of the year 1821 no less than 21,000 slaves were abducted, and three hundred and fifty-two vessels entered African ports north of the equator. "It is obvious," said they, "that this crime is committed in contravention of the Laws of every Country of Europe, and of America, excepting only of one, and that it requires something more than the ordinary operation of Law to prevent it." England therefore recommended:-- 1. That each country denounce the trade as piracy, with a view of founding upon the aggregate of such separate declarations a general law to be incorporated in the Law of Nations. 2. A withdrawing of the flags of the Powers from persons not natives of these States, who engage in the traffic under the flags of these States. 3. A refusal to admit to their domains the produce of the colonies of States allowing the trade, a measure which would apply to Portugal and Brazil alone. These proposals were not accepted. Austria would agree to the first two only; France refused to denounce the trade as piracy; and Prussia was non-committal. The utmost that could be gained was another denunciation of the trade couched in general terms.[33] 70. ~Negotiations of 1823-1825.~ England did not, however, lose hope of gaining some concession from the United States. Another House committee had, in 1822, reported that the only method of suppressing the trade was by granting a Right of Search.[34] The House agreed, February 28, 1823, to request the President to enter into negotiations with the maritime powers of Europe to denounce the slave-trade as piracy; an amendment "that we agree to a qualified right of search" was, however, lost.[35] Meantime, the English minister was continually pressing the matter upon Adams, who proposed in turn to denounce the trade as piracy. Canning agreed to this, but only on condition that it be piracy under the Law of Nations and not merely by statute law. Such an agreement, he said, would involve a Right of Search for its enforcement; he proposed strictly to limit and define this right, to allow captured ships to be tried in their own courts, and not to commit the United States in any way to the question of the belligerent Right of Search. Adams finally sent a draft of a proposed treaty to England, and agreed to recognize the slave-traffic "as piracy under the law of nations, namely: that, although seizable by the officers and authorities of every nation, they should be triable only by the tribunals of the country of the slave trading vessel."[36] Rush presented this _project_ to the government in January, 1824. England agreed to all the points insisted on by the United States; viz., that she herself should denounce the trade as piracy; that slavers should be tried in their own country; that the captor should be laid under the most effective responsibility for his conduct; and that vessels under convoy of a ship of war of their own country should be exempt from search. In addition, England demanded that citizens of either country captured under the flag of a third power should be sent home for trial, and that citizens of either country chartering vessels of a third country should come under these stipulations.[37] This convention was laid before the Senate April 30, 1824, but was not acted upon until May 21, when it was so amended as to make it terminable at six months' notice. The same day, President Monroe, "apprehending, from the delay in the decision, that some difficulty exists," sent a special message to the Senate, giving at length the reasons for signing the treaty, and saying that "should this Convention be adopted, there is every reason to believe, that it will be the commencement of a system destined to accomplish the entire Abolition of the Slave Trade." It was, however, a time of great political pot-boiling, and consequently an unfortunate occasion to ask senators to settle any great question. A systematic attack, led by Johnson of Louisiana, was made on all the vital provisions of the treaty: the waters of America were excepted from its application, and those of the West Indies barely escaped exception; the provision which, perhaps, aimed the deadliest blow at American slave-trade interests was likewise struck out; namely, the application of the Right of Search to citizens chartering the vessels of a third nation.[38] The convention thus mutilated was not signed by England, who demanded as the least concession the application of the Right of Search to American waters. Meantime the United States had invited nearly all nations to denounce the trade as piracy; and the President, the Secretary of the Navy, and a House committee had urgently favored the granting of the Right of Search. The bad faith of Congress, however, in the matter of the Colombian treaty broke off for a time further negotiations with England.[39] 71. ~The Attitude of the United States and the State of the Slave-Trade.~ In 1824 the Right of Search was established between England and Sweden, and in 1826 Brazil promised to abolish the trade in three years.[40] In 1831 the cause was greatly advanced by the signing of a treaty between Great Britain and France, granting mutually a geographically limited Right of Search.[41] This led, in the next few years, to similar treaties with Denmark, Sardinia,[42] the Hanse towns,[43] and Naples.[44] Such measures put the trade more and more in the hands of Americans, and it began greatly to increase. Mercer sought repeatedly in the House to have negotiations reopened with England, but without success.[45] Indeed, the chances of success were now for many years imperilled by the recurrence of deliberate search of American vessels by the British.[46] In the majority of cases the vessels proved to be slavers, and some of them fraudulently flew the American flag; nevertheless, their molestation by British cruisers created much feeling, and hindered all steps toward an understanding: the United States was loath to have her criminal negligence in enforcing her own laws thus exposed by foreigners. Other international questions connected with the trade also strained the relations of the two countries: three different vessels engaged in the domestic slave-trade, driven by stress of weather, or, in the "Creole" case, captured by Negroes on board, landed slaves in British possessions; England freed them, and refused to pay for such as were landed after emancipation had been proclaimed in the West Indies.[47] The case of the slaver "L'Amistad" also raised difficulties with Spain. This Spanish vessel, after the Negroes on board had mutinied and killed their owners, was seized by a United States vessel and brought into port for adjudication. The court, however, freed the Negroes, on the ground that under Spanish law they were not legally slaves; and although the Senate repeatedly tried to indemnify the owners, the project did not succeed.[48] Such proceedings well illustrate the new tendency of the pro-slavery party to neglect the enforcement of the slave-trade laws, in a frantic defence of the remotest ramparts of slave property. Consequently, when, after the treaty of 1831, France and England joined in urging the accession of the United States to it, the British minister was at last compelled to inform Palmerston, December, 1833, that "the Executive at Washington appears to shrink from bringing forward, in any shape, a question, upon which depends the completion of their former object--the utter and universal Abolition of the Slave Trade--from an apprehension of alarming the Southern States."[49] Great Britain now offered to sign the proposed treaty of 1824 as amended; but even this Forsyth refused, and stated that the United States had determined not to become "a party of any Convention on the subject of the Slave Trade."[50] Estimates as to the extent of the slave-trade agree that the traffic to North and South America in 1820 was considerable, certainly not much less than 40,000 slaves annually. From that time to about 1825 it declined somewhat, but afterward increased enormously, so that by 1837 the American importation was estimated as high as 200,000 Negroes annually. The total abolition of the African trade by American countries then brought the traffic down to perhaps 30,000 in 1842. A large and rapid increase of illicit traffic followed; so that by 1847 the importation amounted to nearly 100,000 annually. One province of Brazil is said to have received 173,000 in the years 1846-1849. In the decade 1850-1860 this activity in slave-trading continued, and reached very large proportions. The traffic thus carried on floated under the flags of France, Spain, and Portugal, until about 1830; from 1830 to 1840 it began gradually to assume the United States flag; by 1845, a large part of the trade was under the stars and stripes; by 1850 fully one-half the trade, and in the decade, 1850-1860 nearly all the traffic, found this flag its best protection.[51] 72. ~The Quintuple Treaty, 1839-1842.~ In 1839 Pope Gregory XVI. stigmatized the slave-trade "as utterly unworthy of the Christian name;" and at the same time, although proscribed by the laws of every civilized State, the trade was flourishing with pristine vigor. Great advantage was given the traffic by the fact that the United States, for two decades after the abortive attempt of 1824, refused to co-operate with the rest of the civilized world, and allowed her flag to shelter and protect the slave-trade. If a fully equipped slaver sailed from New York, Havana, Rio Janeiro, or Liverpool, she had only to hoist the stars and stripes in order to proceed unmolested on her piratical voyage; for there was seldom a United States cruiser to be met with, and there were, on the other hand, diplomats at Washington so jealous of the honor of the flag that they would prostitute it to crime rather than allow an English or a French cruiser in any way to interfere. Without doubt, the contention of the United States as to England's pretensions to a Right of Visit was technically correct. Nevertheless, it was clear that if the slave-trade was to be suppressed, each nation must either zealously keep her flag from fraudulent use, or, as a labor-saving device, depute to others this duty for limited places and under special circumstances. A failure of any one nation to do one of these two things meant that the efforts of all other nations were to be fruitless. The United States had invited the world to join her in denouncing the slave-trade as piracy; yet, when such a pirate was waylaid by an English vessel, the United States complained or demanded reparation. The only answer which this country for years returned to the long-continued exposures of American slave-traders and of the fraudulent use of the American flag, was a recital of cases where Great Britain had gone beyond her legal powers in her attempt to suppress the slave-trade.[52] In the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Secretary of State Forsyth declared, in 1840, that the duty of the United States in the matter of the slave-trade "has been faithfully performed, and if the traffic still exists as a disgrace to humanity, it is to be imputed to nations with whom Her Majesty's Government has formed and maintained the most intimate connexions, and to whose Governments Great Britain has paid for the right of active intervention in order to its complete extirpation."[53] So zealous was Stevenson, our minister to England, in denying the Right of Search, that he boldly informed Palmerston, in 1841, "that there is no shadow of pretence for excusing, much less justifying, the exercise of any such right. That it is wholly immaterial, whether the vessels be equipped for, or actually engaged in slave traffic or not, and consequently the right to search or detain even slave vessels, must be confined to the ships or vessels of those nations with whom it may have treaties on the subject."[54] Palmerston courteously replied that he could not think that the United States seriously intended to make its flag a refuge for slave-traders;[55] and Aberdeen pertinently declared: "Now, it can scarcely be maintained by Mr. Stevenson that Great Britain should be bound to permit her own subjects, with British vessels and British capital, to carry on, before the eyes of British officers, this detestable traffic in human beings, which the law has declared to be piracy, merely because they had the audacity to commit an additional offence by fraudulently usurping the American flag."[56] Thus the dispute, even after the advent of Webster, went on for a time, involving itself in metaphysical subtleties, and apparently leading no nearer to an understanding.[57] In 1838 a fourth conference of the powers for the consideration of the slave-trade took place at London. It was attended by representatives of England, France, Russia, Prussia, and Austria. England laid the _projet_ of a treaty before them, to which all but France assented. This so-called Quintuple Treaty, signed December 20, 1841, denounced the slave-trade as piracy, and declared that "the High Contracting Parties agree by common consent, that those of their ships of war which shall be provided with special warrants and orders ... may search every merchant-vessel belonging to any one of the High Contracting Parties which shall, on reasonable grounds, be suspected of being engaged in the traffic in slaves." All captured slavers were to be sent to their own countries for trial.[58] While the ratification of this treaty was pending, the United States minister to France, Lewis Cass, addressed an official note to Guizot at the French foreign office, protesting against the institution of an international Right of Search, and rather grandiloquently warning the powers against the use of force to accomplish their ends.[59] This extraordinary epistle, issued on the minister's own responsibility, brought a reply denying that the creation of any "new principle of international law, whereby the vessels even of those powers which have not participated in the arrangement should be subjected to the right of search," was ever intended, and affirming that no such extraordinary interpretation could be deduced from the Convention. Moreover, M. Guizot hoped that the United States, by agreeing to this treaty, would "aid, by its most sincere endeavors, in the definitive abolition of the trade."[60] Cass's theatrical protest was, consciously or unconsciously, the manifesto of that growing class in the United States who wanted no further measures taken for the suppression of the slave-trade; toward that, as toward the institution of slavery, this party favored a policy of strict _laissez-faire_. 73. ~Final Concerted Measures, 1842-1862.~ The Treaty of Washington, in 1842, made the first effective compromise in the matter and broke the unpleasant dead-lock, by substituting joint cruising by English and American squadrons for the proposed grant of a Right of Search. In submitting this treaty, Tyler said: "The treaty which I now submit to you proposes no alteration, mitigation, or modification of the rules of the law of nations. It provides simply that each of the two Governments shall maintain on the coast of Africa a sufficient squadron to enforce separately and respectively the laws, rights, and obligations of the two countries for the suppression of the slave trade."[61] This provision was a part of the treaty to settle the boundary disputes with England. In the Senate, Benton moved to strike out this article; but the attempt was defeated by a vote of 37 to 12, and the treaty was ratified.[62] This stipulation of the treaty of 1842 was never properly carried out by the United States for any length of time.[63] Consequently the same difficulties as to search and visit by English vessels continued to recur. Cases like the following were frequent. The "Illinois," of Gloucester, Massachusetts, while lying at Whydah, Africa, was boarded by a British officer, but having American papers was unmolested. Three days later she hoisted Spanish colors and sailed away with a cargo of slaves. Next morning she fell in with another British vessel and hoisted American colors; the British ship had then no right to molest her; but the captain of the slaver feared that she would, and therefore ran his vessel aground, slaves and all. The senior English officer reported that "had Lieutenant Cumberland brought to and boarded the 'Illinois,' notwithstanding the American colors which she hoisted,... the American master of the 'Illinois' ... would have complained to his Government of the detention of his vessel."[64] Again, a vessel which had been boarded by British officers and found with American flag and papers was, a little later, captured under the Spanish flag with four hundred and thirty slaves. She had in the interim complained to the United States government of the boarding.[65] Meanwhile, England continued to urge the granting of a Right of Search, claiming that the stand of the United States really amounted to the wholesale protection of pirates under her flag.[66] The United States answered by alleging that even the Treaty of 1842 had been misconstrued by England,[67] whereupon there was much warm debate in Congress, and several attempts were made to abrogate the slave-trade article of the treaty.[68] The pro-slavery party had become more and more suspicious of England's motives, since they had seen her abolition of the slave-trade blossom into abolition of the system itself, and they seized every opportunity to prevent co-operation with her. At the same time, European interest in the question showed some signs of weakening, and no decided action was taken. In 1845 France changed her Right of Search stipulations of 1833 to one for joint cruising,[69] while the Germanic Federation,[70] Portugal,[71] and Chili[72]enounced the trade as piracy. In 1844 Texas granted the Right of Search to England,[73] and in 1845 Belgium signed the Quintuple Treaty.[74] Discussion between England and the United States was revived when Cass held the State portfolio, and, strange to say, the author of "Cass's Protest" went farther than any of his predecessors in acknowledging the justice of England's demands. Said he, in 1859: "If The United States maintained that, by carrying their flag at her masthead, any vessel became thereby entitled to the immunity which belongs to American vessels, they might well be reproached with assuming a position which would go far towards shielding crimes upon the ocean from punishment; but they advance no such pretension, while they concede that, if in the honest examination of a vessel sailing under American colours, but accompanied by strongly-marked suspicious circumstances, a mistake is made, and she is found to be entitled to the flag she bears, but no injury is committed, and the conduct of the boarding party is irreproachable, no Government would be likely to make a case thus exceptional in its character a subject of serious reclamation."[75] While admitting this and expressing a desire to co-operate in the suppression of the slave-trade, Cass nevertheless steadily refused all further overtures toward a mutual Right of Search. The increase of the slave-traffic was so great in the decade 1850-1860 that Lord John Russell proposed to the governments of the United States, France, Spain, Portugal, and Brazil, that they instruct their ministers to meet at London in May or June, 1860, to consider measures for the final abolition of the trade. He stated: "It is ascertained, by repeated instances, that the practice is for vessels to sail under the American flag. If the flag is rightly assumed, and the papers correct, no British cruizer can touch them. If no slaves are on board, even though the equipment, the fittings, the water-casks, and other circumstances prove that the ship is on a Slave Trade venture, no American cruizer can touch them."[76] Continued representations of this kind were made to the paralyzed United States government; indeed, the slave-trade of the world seemed now to float securely under her flag. Nevertheless, Cass refused even to participate in the proposed conference, and later refused to accede to a proposal for joint cruising off the coast of Cuba.[77] Great Britain offered to relieve the United States of any embarrassment by receiving all captured Africans into the West Indies; but President Buchanan "could not contemplate any such arrangement," and obstinately refused to increase the suppressing squadron.[78] On the outbreak of the Civil War, the Lincoln administration, through Secretary Seward, immediately expressed a willingness to do all in its power to suppress the slave-trade.[79] Accordingly, June 7, 1862, a treaty was signed with Great Britain granting a mutual limited Right of Search, and establishing mixed courts for the trial of offenders at the Cape of Good Hope, Sierra Leone, and New York.[80] The efforts of a half-century of diplomacy were finally crowned; Seward wrote to Adams, "Had such a treaty been made in 1808, there would now have been no sedition here."[81] FOOTNOTES: [1] Cf. Augustine Cochin, in Lalor, _Cyclopedia_, III. 723. [2] By a law of Aug. 11, 1792, the encouragement formerly given to the trade was stopped. Cf. _Choix de rapports, opinions et discours prononcés à la tribune nationale depuis 1789_ (Paris, 1821), XIV. 425; quoted in Cochin, _The Results of Emancipation_ (Booth's translation, 1863), pp. 33, 35-8. [3] Cochin, _The Results of Emancipation_ (Booth's translation, 1863), pp. 42-7. [4] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1815-6, p. 196. [5] _Ibid._, pp. 195-9, 292-3; 1816-7, p. 755. It was eventually confirmed by royal ordinance, and the law of April 15, 1818. [6] _Statute 28 George III._, ch. 54. Cf. _Statute 29 George III._, ch. 66. [7] Various petitions had come in praying for an abolition of the slave-trade; and by an order in Council, Feb. 11, 1788, a committee of the Privy Council was ordered to take evidence on the subject. This committee presented an elaborate report in 1739. See published _Report_, London, 1789. [8] For the history of the Parliamentary struggle, cf. Clarkson's and Copley's histories. The movement was checked in the House of Commons in 1789, 1790, and 1791. In 1792 the House of Commons resolved to abolish the trade in 1796. The Lords postponed the matter to take evidence. A bill to prohibit the foreign slave-trade was lost in 1793, passed the next session, and was lost in the House of Lords. In 1795, 1796, 1798, and 1799 repeated attempts to abolish the trade were defeated. The matter then rested until 1804, when the battle was renewed with more success. [9] _Statute 46 George III._, ch. 52, 119; _47 George III._, sess. I. ch. 36. [10] Sparks, _Diplomatic Correspondence_, X. 154. [11] Fox to Hartley, June 10, 1783; quoted in Bancroft, _History of the Constitution of the United States_, I. 61. [12] _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, III. No. 214, p. 151. [13] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1815-6, pp. 886, 937 (quotation). [14] _Ibid._, pp. 890-1. [15] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1815-6, p. 887. Russia, Austria, and Prussia returned favorable replies: _Ibid._, pp. 887-8. [16] _Ibid._, p. 889. [17] She desired a loan, which England made on this condition: _Ibid._, pp. 921-2. [18] _Ibid._, pp. 937-9. Certain financial arrangements secured this concession. [19] _Ibid._, pp. 939-75 [20] _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, III. No. 271, pp. 735-48; _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (ed. 1889), p. 405. [21] This was inserted in the Treaty of Paris, Nov. 20, 1815: _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1815-6, p. 292. [22] _Ibid._, 1816-7, pp. 33-74 (English version, 1823-4, p. 702 ff.). [23] Cf. _Ibid._, 1817-8, p. 125 ff. [24] This was the first meeting of the London ministers of the powers according to agreement; they assembled Dec. 4, 1817, and finally called a meeting of plenipotentiaries on the question of suppression at Aix-la-Chapelle, beginning Oct. 24, 1818. Among those present were Metternich, Richelieu, Wellington, Castlereagh, Hardenberg, Bernstorff, Nesselrode, and Capodistrias. Castlereagh made two propositions: 1. That the five powers join in urging Portugal and Brazil to abolish the trade May 20, 1820; 2. That the powers adopt the principle of a mutual qualified Right of Search. Cf. _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1818-9, pp. 21-88; _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. No. 346, pp. 113-122. [25] For cases, see _1 Acton_, 240, the "Amedie," and _1 Dodson_, 81, the "Fortuna;" quoted in U.S. Reports, _10 Wheaton_, 66. [26] Cf. the case of the French ship "Le Louis": _2 Dodson_, 238; and also the case of the "San Juan Nepomuceno": _1 Haggard_, 267. [27] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1819-20, pp. 375-9; also pp. 220-2. [28] _Ibid._, 1820-21, pp. 395-6. [29] _House Doc._, 14 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 77. [30] _Annals of Cong._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 71, 73-78, 94-109. The motion was opposed largely by Southern members, and passed by a vote of 17 to 16. [31] One was reported, May 9, 1820, by Mercer's committee, and passed May 12: _House Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 497, 518, 520, 526; _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 697-9. A similar resolution passed the House next session, and a committee reported in favor of the Right of Search: _Ibid._, 16 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1064-71. Cf. _Ibid._, pp. 476, 743, 865, 1469. [32] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1820-21, pp. 397-400. [33] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1822-3, pp. 94-110. [34] _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92. [35] _House Journal_, 17 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 212, 280; _Annals of Cong._, 17 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 922, 1147-1155. [36] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1823-4, pp. 409-21; 1824-5, pp. 828-47; _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. No. 371, pp. 333-7. [37] _Ibid._ [38] _Ibid._, No. 374, p. 344 ff., No. 379, pp. 360-2. [39] _House Reports_, 18 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 70; _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. No. 379, pp. 364-5, No. 414, p. 783, etc. Among the nations invited by the United States to co-operate in suppressing the trade was the United States of Colombia. Mr. Anderson, our minister, expressed "the certain belief that the Republic of Colombia will not permit herself to be behind any Government in the civilized world in the adoption of energetic measures for the suppression of this disgraceful traffic": _Ibid._, No. 407, p. 729. The little republic replied courteously; and, as a _projet_ for a treaty, Mr. Anderson offered the proposed English treaty of 1824, including the Senate amendments. Nevertheless, the treaty thus agreed to was summarily rejected by the Senate, March 9, 1825: _Ibid._, p. 735. Another result of this general invitation of the United States was a proposal by Colombia that the slave-trade and the status of Hayti be among the subjects for discussion at the Panama Congress. As a result of this, a Senate committee recommended that the United States take no part in the Congress. This report was finally disagreed to by a vote of 19 to 24: _Ibid._, No. 423, pp. 837, 860, 876, 882. [40] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1823-4, and 1826-7. Brazil abolished the trade in 1830. [41] This treaty was further defined in 1833: _Ibid._, 1830-1, p. 641 ff.; 1832-3, p. 286 ff. [42] _Ibid._, 1833-4, pp. 218 ff., 1059 ff. [43] _Ibid._, 1837-8, p. 268 ff. [44] _Ibid._, 1838-9, p. 792 ff. [45] Viz., Feb. 28, 1825; April 7, 1830; Feb. 16, 1831; March 3, 1831. The last resolution passed the House: _House Journal_, 21 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 426-8. [46] Cf. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 35-6, etc.; _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, pp. 730-55, etc. [47] These were the celebrated cases of the "Encomium," "Enterprize," and "Comet." Cf. _Senate Doc._, 24 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 174; 25 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 216. Cf. also case of the "Creole": _Ibid._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. II.-III. Nos. 51, 137. [48] _Ibid._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 179; _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 29; 32 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 19; _Senate Reports_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. No. 301; 32 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 158; 35 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 36; _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 185; 27 Cong. 3 sess. V. No. 191; 28 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 83; _House Exec. Doc._, 32 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 20; _House Reports_, 26 Cong. 2 sess. No. 51; 28 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 426; 29 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 753; also Decisions of the U.S. Supreme Court, _15 Peters_, 518. Cf. Drake, _Revelations of a Slave Smuggler_, p. 98. [49] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1834-5, p. 136. [50] _Ibid._, pp. 135-47. Great Britain made treaties meanwhile with Hayti, Uruguay, Venezuela, Bolivia, Argentine Confederation, Mexico, Texas, etc. Portugal prohibited the slave-trade in 1836, except between her African colonies. Cf. _Ibid._, from 1838 to 1841. [51] These estimates are from the following sources: _Ibid._, 1822-3, pp. 94-110; _Parliamentary Papers_, 1823, XVIII., _Slave Trade_, Further Papers, A., pp. 10-11; 1838-9, XLIX., _Slave Trade_, Class A, Further Series, pp. 115, 119, 121; _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 1, p. 93; 20 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 99; 26 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 211; _House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, p. 193; _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348; _Senate Doc._, 28 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 217; 31 Cong. 1 sess. XIV. No. 66; 31 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 6; _Amer. State Papers, Naval_, I. No. 249; Buxton, _The African Slave Trade and its Remedy_, pp. 44-59; Friends' _Facts and Observations on the Slave Trade_ (ed. 1841); Friends' _Exposition of the Slave Trade, 1840-50_; _Annual Reports of the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society_. The annexed table gives the dates of the abolition of the slave-trade by the various nations:-- -------+-------------------+---------------------------+-------------- | | |Arrangements | | Right of Search Treaty | for Joint Date. |Slave-trade | with Great Britain, | Cruising | Abolished by | made by | with Great | | | Britain, | | | made by -------+-------------------+---------------------------+-------------- 1802 | Denmark. | | 1807 | Great Britain; | | | United States. | | 1813 | Sweden. | | 1814 | Netherlands. | | 1815 | Portugal (north | | | of the equator).| | 1817 | Spain (north of | Portugal; Spain. | | the equator). | | 1818 | France. | Netherlands. | 1820 | Spain. | | 1824 | | Sweden. | 1829 | Brazil (?). | | 1830 | Portugal. | | 1831-33| | France. | 1833-39| | Denmark, Hanse Towns, etc.| 1841 | | Quintuple Treaty (Austria,| 1842 | | Russia, Prussia). | United States. 1844 | | Texas. | 1845 | | Belgium. | France. 1862 | | United States. | -------+-------------------+---------------------------+-------------- [52] Cf. _British and Foreign State Papers_, from 1836 to 1842. [53] _Ibid._, 1839-40, p. 940. [54] _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 1 sess. No. 34, pp. 5-6. [55] _Senate Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377, p. 56. [56] _Ibid._, p. 72. [57] _Ibid._, pp. 133-40, etc. [58] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1841-2, p. 269 ff. [59] See below, Appendix B. [60] _Senate Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377, p. 201. [61] _Senate Exec. Journal_, VI. 123. [62] _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (ed. 1889), pp. 436-7. For the debates in the Senate, see _Congressional Globe_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. Appendix. Cass resigned on account of the acceptance of this treaty without a distinct denial of the Right of Search, claiming that this compromised his position in France. Cf. _Senate Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. II., IV. Nos. 52, 223; 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377. [63] Cf. below, Chapter X. [64] _Senate Exec. Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 150, p. 72. [65] _Ibid._, p. 77. [66] _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. V. No. 192, p. 4. Cf. _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1842-3, p. 708 ff. [67] _House Journal_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 431, 485-8. Cf. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. V. No. 192. [68] Cf. below, Chapter X. [69] With a fleet of 26 vessels, reduced to 12 in 1849: _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1844-5, p. 4 ff.; 1849-50, p. 480. [70] _Ibid._, 1850-1, p. 953. [71] Portugal renewed her Right of Search treaty in 1842: _Ibid._, 1841-2, p. 527 ff.; 1842-3, p. 450. [72] _Ibid._, 1843-4, p. 316. [73] _Ibid._, 1844-5, p. 592. There already existed some such privileges between England and Texas. [74] _Ibid._, 1847-8, p. 397 ff. [75] _Ibid._, 1858-9, pp. 1121, 1129. [76] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1859-60, pp. 902-3. [77] _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 7. [78] _Ibid._ [79] _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 57. [80] _Senate Exec. Journal_, XII. 230-1, 240, 254, 256, 391, 400, 403; _Diplomatic Correspondence_, 1862, pp. 141, 158; _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (ed. 1889), pp. 454-9. [81] _Diplomatic Correspondence_, 1862, pp. 64-5. This treaty was revised in 1863. The mixed court in the West Indies had, by February, 1864, liberated 95,206 Africans: _Senate Exec. Doc._, 38 Cong. 1 sess. No. 56, p. 24. * * * * * _Chapter X_ THE RISE OF THE COTTON KINGDOM. 1820-1850. 74. The Economic Revolution. 75. The Attitude of the South. 76. The Attitude of the North and Congress. 77. Imperfect Application of the Laws. 78. Responsibility of the Government. 79. Activity of the Slave-Trade. 74. ~The Economic Revolution.~ The history of slavery and the slave-trade after 1820 must be read in the light of the industrial revolution through which the civilized world passed in the first half of the nineteenth century. Between the years 1775 and 1825 occurred economic events and changes of the highest importance and widest influence. Though all branches of industry felt the impulse of this new industrial life, yet, "if we consider single industries, cotton manufacture has, during the nineteenth century, made the most magnificent and gigantic advances."[1] This fact is easily explained by the remarkable series of inventions that revolutionized this industry between 1738 and 1830, including Arkwright's, Watt's, Compton's, and Cartwright's epoch-making contrivances.[2] The effect which these inventions had on the manufacture of cotton goods is best illustrated by the fact that in England, the chief cotton market of the world, the consumption of raw cotton rose steadily from 13,000 bales in 1781, to 572,000 in 1820, to 871,000 in 1830, and to 3,366,000 in 1860.[3] Very early, therefore, came the query whence the supply of raw cotton was to come. Tentative experiments on the rich, broad fields of the Southern United States, together with the indispensable invention of Whitney's cotton-gin, soon answered this question: a new economic future was opened up to this land, and immediately the whole South began to extend its cotton culture, and more and more to throw its whole energy into this one staple. Here it was that the fatal mistake of compromising with slavery in the beginning, and of the policy of _laissez-faire_ pursued thereafter, became painfully manifest; for, instead now of a healthy, normal, economic development along proper industrial lines, we have the abnormal and fatal rise of a slave-labor large farming system, which, before it was realized, had so intertwined itself with and braced itself upon the economic forces of an industrial age, that a vast and terrible civil war was necessary to displace it. The tendencies to a patriarchal serfdom, recognizable in the age of Washington and Jefferson, began slowly but surely to disappear; and in the second quarter of the century Southern slavery was irresistibly changing from a family institution to an industrial system. The development of Southern slavery has heretofore been viewed so exclusively from the ethical and social standpoint that we are apt to forget its close and indissoluble connection with the world's cotton market. Beginning with 1820, a little after the close of the Napoleonic wars, when the industry of cotton manufacture had begun its modern development and the South had definitely assumed her position as chief producer of raw cotton, we find the average price of cotton per pound, 8½_d._ From this time until 1845 the price steadily fell, until in the latter year it reached 4_d._; the only exception to this fall was in the years 1832-1839, when, among other things, a strong increase in the English demand, together with an attempt of the young slave power to "corner" the market, sent the price up as high as 11_d._ The demand for cotton goods soon outran a crop which McCullough had pronounced "prodigious," and after 1845 the price started on a steady rise, which, except for the checks suffered during the continental revolutions and the Crimean War, continued until 1860.[4] The steady increase in the production of cotton explains the fall in price down to 1845. In 1822 the crop was a half-million bales; in 1831, a million; in 1838, a million and a half; and in 1840-1843, two million. By this time the world's consumption of cotton goods began to increase so rapidly that, in spite of the increase in Southern crops, the price kept rising. Three million bales were gathered in 1852, three and a half million in 1856, and the remarkable crop of five million bales in 1860.[5] Here we have data to explain largely the economic development of the South. By 1822 the large-plantation slave system had gained footing; in 1838-1839 it was able to show its power in the cotton "corner;" by the end of the next decade it had not only gained a solid economic foundation, but it had built a closed oligarchy with a political policy. The changes in price during the next few years drove out of competition many survivors of the small-farming free-labor system, and put the slave _régime_ in position to dictate the policy of the nation. The zenith of the system and the first inevitable signs of decay came in the years 1850-1860, when the rising price of cotton threw the whole economic energy of the South into its cultivation, leading to a terrible consumption of soil and slaves, to a great increase in the size of plantations, and to increasing power and effrontery on the part of the slave barons. Finally, when a rising moral crusade conjoined with threatened economic disaster, the oligarchy, encouraged by the state of the cotton market, risked all on a political _coup-d'état_, which failed in the war of 1861-1865.[6] 75. ~The Attitude of the South.~ The attitude of the South toward the slave-trade changed _pari passu_ with this development of the cotton trade. From 1808 to 1820 the South half wished to get rid of a troublesome and abnormal institution, and yet saw no way to do so. The fear of insurrection and of the further spread of the disagreeable system led her to consent to the partial prohibition of the trade by severe national enactments. Nevertheless, she had in the matter no settled policy: she refused to support vigorously the execution of the laws she had helped to make, and at the same time she acknowledged the theoretical necessity of these laws. After 1820, however, there came a gradual change. The South found herself supplied with a body of slave laborers, whose number had been augmented by large illicit importations, with an abundance of rich land, and with all other natural facilities for raising a crop which was in large demand and peculiarly adapted to slave labor. The increasing crop caused a new demand for slaves, and an interstate slave-traffic arose between the Border and the Gulf States, which turned the former into slave-breeding districts, and bound them to the slave States by ties of strong economic interest. As the cotton crop continued to increase, this source of supply became inadequate, especially as the theory of land and slave consumption broke down former ethical and prudential bounds. It was, for example, found cheaper to work a slave to death in a few years, and buy a new one, than to care for him in sickness and old age; so, too, it was easier to despoil rich, new land in a few years of intensive culture, and move on to the Southwest, than to fertilize and conserve the soil.[7] Consequently, there early came a demand for land and slaves greater than the country could supply. The demand for land showed itself in the annexation of Texas, the conquest of Mexico, and the movement toward the acquisition of Cuba. The demand for slaves was manifested in the illicit traffic that noticeably increased about 1835, and reached large proportions by 1860. It was also seen in a disposition to attack the government for stigmatizing the trade as criminal,[8] then in a disinclination to take any measures which would have rendered our repressive laws effective; and finally in such articulate declarations by prominent men as this: "Experience having settled the point, that this Trade _cannot be abolished by the use of force_, and that blockading squadrons serve only to make it more profitable and more cruel, I am surprised that the attempt is persisted in, unless as it serves as a cloak to some other purposes. It would be far better than it now is, for the African, if the trade was free from all restrictions, and left to the mitigation and decay which time and competition would surely bring about."[9] 76. ~The Attitude of the North and Congress.~ With the North as yet unawakened to the great changes taking place in the South, and with the attitude of the South thus in process of development, little or no constructive legislation could be expected on the subject of the slave-trade. As the divergence in sentiment became more and more pronounced, there were various attempts at legislation, all of which proved abortive. The pro-slavery party attempted, as early as 1826, and again in 1828, to abolish the African agency and leave the Africans practically at the mercy of the States;[10] one or two attempts were made to relax the few provisions which restrained the coastwise trade;[11] and, after the treaty of 1842, Benton proposed to stop appropriations for the African squadron until England defined her position on the Right of Search question.[12] The anti-slavery men presented several bills to amend and strengthen previous laws;[13] they sought, for instance, in vain to regulate the Texan trade, through which numbers of slaves indirectly reached the United States.[14] Presidents and consuls earnestly recommended legislation to restrict the clearances of vessels bound on slave-trading voyages, and to hinder the facility with which slavers obtained fraudulent papers.[15] Only one such bill succeeded in passing the Senate, and that was dropped in the House.[16] The only legislation of this period was confined to a few appropriation bills. Only one of these acts, that of 1823, appropriating $50,000,[17] was designed materially to aid in the suppression of the trade, all the others relating to expenses incurred after violations. After 1823 the appropriations dwindled, being made at intervals of one, two, and three years, down to 1834, when the amount was $5,000. No further appropriations were made until 1842, when a few thousands above an unexpended surplus were appropriated. In 1843 $5,000 were given, and finally, in 1846, $25,000 were secured; but this was the last sum obtainable until 1856.[18] Nearly all of these meagre appropriations went toward reimbursing Southern plantation owners for the care and support of illegally imported Africans, and the rest to the maintenance of the African agency. Suspiciously large sums were paid for the first purpose, considering the fact that such Africans were always worked hard by those to whom they were farmed out, and often "disappeared" while in their hands. In the accounts we nevertheless find many items like that of $20,286.98 for the maintenance of Negroes imported on the "Ramirez;"[19] in 1827, $5,442.22 for the "bounty, subsistence, clothing, medicine," etc., of fifteen Africans;[20] in 1835, $3,613 for the support of thirty-eight slaves for two months (including a bill of $1,038 for medical attendance).[21] The African agency suffered many vicissitudes. The first agent, Bacon, who set out early in 1820, was authorized by President Monroe "to form an establishment on the island of Sherbro, or elsewhere on the coast of Africa," and to build barracks for three hundred persons. He was, however, warned "not to connect your agency with the views or plans of the Colonization Society, with which, under the law, the Government of the United States has no concern." Bacon soon died, and was followed during the next four years by Winn and Ayres; they succeeded in establishing a government agency on Cape Mesurado, in conjunction with that of the Colonization Society. The agent of that Society, Jehudi Ashmun, became after 1822, the virtual head of the colony; he fortified and enlarged it, and laid the foundations of an independent community. The succeeding government agents came to be merely official representatives of the United States, and the distribution of free rations for liberated Africans ceased in 1827. Between 1819 and 1830 two hundred and fifty-two recaptured Africans were sent to the agency, and $264,710 were expended. The property of the government at the agency was valued at $18,895. From 1830 to 1840, nearly $20,000 more were expended, chiefly for the agents' salaries. About 1840 the appointment of an agent ceased, and the colony became gradually self-supporting and independent. It was proclaimed as the Republic of Liberia in 1847.[22] 77. ~Imperfect Application of the Laws.~ In reviewing efforts toward the suppression of the slave-trade from 1820 to 1850, it must be remembered that nearly every cabinet had a strong, if not a predominating, Southern element, and that consequently the efforts of the executive were powerfully influenced by the changing attitude of the South. Naturally, under such circumstances, the government displayed little activity and no enthusiasm in the work. In 1824 a single vessel of the Gulf squadron was occasionally sent to the African coast to return by the route usually followed by the slavers; no wonder that "none of these or any other of our public ships have found vessels engaged in the slave trade under the flag of the United States, ... although it is known that the trade still exists to a most lamentable extent."[23] Indeed, all that an American slaver need do was to run up a Spanish or a Portuguese flag, to be absolutely secure from all attack or inquiry on the part of United States vessels. Even this desultory method of suppression was not regular: in 1826 "no vessel has been despatched to the coast of Africa for several months,"[24] and from that time until 1839 this country probably had no slave-trade police upon the seas, except in the Gulf of Mexico. In 1839 increasing violations led to the sending of two fast-sailing vessels to the African coast, and these were kept there more or less regularly;[25] but even after the signing of the treaty of 1842 the Secretary of the Navy reports: "On the coast of Africa we have _no_ squadron. The small appropriation of the present year was believed to be scarcely sufficient."[26] Between 1843 and 1850 the coast squadron varied from two to six vessels, with from thirty to ninety-eight guns;[27] "but the force habitually and actively engaged in cruizing on the ground frequented by slavers has probably been less by one-fourth, if we consider the size of the ships employed and their withdrawal for purposes of recreation and health, and the movement of the reliefs, whose arrival does not correspond exactly with the departure of the vessels whose term of service has expired."[28] The reports of the navy show that in only four of the eight years mentioned was the fleet, at the time of report, at the stipulated size of eighty guns; and at times it was much below this, even as late as 1848, when only two vessels are reported on duty along the African coast.[29] As the commanders themselves acknowledged, the squadron was too small and the cruising-ground too large to make joint cruising effective.[30] The same story comes from the Brazil station: "Nothing effectual can be done towards stopping the slave trade, as our squadron is at present organized," wrote the consul at Rio Janeiro in 1847; "when it is considered that the Brazil station extends from north of the equator to Cape Horn on this continent, and includes a great part of Africa south of the equator, on both sides of the Cape of Good Hope, it must be admitted that one frigate and one brig is a very insufficient force to protect American commerce, and repress the participation in the slave trade by our own vessels."[31] In the Gulf of Mexico cruisers were stationed most of the time, although even here there were at times urgent representations that the scarcity or the absence of such vessels gave the illicit trade great license.[32] Owing to this general negligence of the government, and also to its anxiety on the subject of the theoretic Right of Search, many officials were kept in a state of chronic deception in regard to the trade. The enthusiasm of commanders was dampened by the lack of latitude allowed and by the repeated insistence in their orders on the non-existence of a Right of Search.[33] When one commander, realizing that he could not cover the trading-track with his fleet, requested English commanders to detain suspicious American vessels until one of his vessels came up, the government annulled the agreement as soon as it reached their ears, rebuked him, and the matter was alluded to in Congress long after with horror.[34] According to the orders of cruisers, only slavers with slaves actually on board could be seized. Consequently, fully equipped slavers would sail past the American fleet, deliberately make all preparations for shipping a cargo, then, when the English were not near, "sell" the ship to a Spaniard, hoist the Spanish flag, and again sail gayly past the American fleet with a cargo of slaves. An English commander reported: "The officers of the United States' navy are extremely active and zealous in the cause, and no fault can be attributed to them, but it is greatly to be lamented that this blemish should in so great a degree nullify our endeavours."[35] 78. ~Responsibility of the Government.~ Not only did the government thus negatively favor the slave-trade, but also many conscious, positive acts must be attributed to a spirit hostile to the proper enforcement of the slave-trade laws. In cases of doubt, when the law needed executive interpretation, the decision was usually in favor of the looser construction of the law; the trade from New Orleans to Mobile was, for instance, declared not to be coastwise trade, and consequently, to the joy of the Cuban smugglers, was left utterly free and unrestricted.[36] After the conquest of Mexico, even vessels bound to California, by the way of Cape Horn, were allowed to clear coastwise, thus giving our flag to "the slave-pirates of the whole world."[37] Attorney-General Nelson declared that the selling to a slave-trader of an American vessel, to be delivered on the coast of Africa, was not aiding or abetting the slave-trade.[38] So easy was it for slavers to sail that corruption among officials was hinted at. "There is certainly a want of proper vigilance at Havana," wrote Commander Perry in 1844, "and perhaps at the ports of the United States;" and again, in the same year, "I cannot but think that the custom-house authorities in the United States are not sufficiently rigid in looking after vessels of suspicious character."[39] In the courts it was still next to impossible to secure the punishment of the most notorious slave-trader. In 1847 a consul writes: "The slave power in this city [i.e., Rio Janeiro] is extremely great, and a consul doing his duty needs to be supported kindly and effectually at home. In the case of the 'Fame,' where the vessel was diverted from the business intended by her owners and employed in the slave trade--both of which offences are punishable with death, if I rightly read the laws--I sent home the two mates charged with these offences, for trial, the first mate to Norfolk, the second mate to Philadelphia. What was done with the first mate I know not. In the case of the man sent to Philadelphia, Mr. Commissioner Kane states that a clear prima facie case is made out, and then holds him to bail in the sum of _one thousand dollars_, which would be paid by any slave trader in Rio, on the _presentation of a draft_. In all this there is little encouragement for exertion."[40] Again, the "Perry" in 1850 captured a slaver which was about to ship 1,800 slaves. The captain admitted his guilt, and was condemned in the United States District Court at New York. Nevertheless, he was admitted to bail of $5,000; this being afterward reduced to $3,000, he forfeited it and escaped. The mate was sentenced to two years in the penitentiary.[41] Also several slavers sent home to the United States by the British, with clear evidence of guilt, escaped condemnation through technicalities.[42] 79. ~Activity of the Slave-Trade, 1820-1850.~ The enhanced price of slaves throughout the American slave market, brought about by the new industrial development and the laws against the slave-trade, was the irresistible temptation that drew American capital and enterprise into that traffic. In the United States, in spite of the large interstate traffic, the average price of slaves rose from about $325 in 1840, to $360 in 1850, and to $500 in 1860.[43] Brazil and Cuba offered similar inducements to smugglers, and the American flag was ready to protect such pirates. As a result, the American slave-trade finally came to be carried on principally by United States capital, in United States ships, officered by United States citizens, and under the United States flag. Executive reports repeatedly acknowledged this fact. In 1839 "a careful revision of these laws" is recommended by the President, in order that "the integrity and honor of our flag may be carefully preserved."[44] In June, 1841, the President declares: "There is reason to believe that the traffic is on the increase," and advocates "vigorous efforts."[45] His message in December of the same year acknowledges: "That the American flag is grossly abused by the abandoned and profligate of other nations is but too probable."[46] The special message of 1845 explains at length that "it would seem" that a regular policy of evading the laws is carried on: American vessels with the knowledge of the owners are chartered by notorious slave dealers in Brazil, aided by English capitalists, with this intent.[47] The message of 1849 "earnestly" invites the attention of Congress "to an amendment of our existing laws relating to the African slave-trade, with a view to the effectual suppression of that barbarous traffic. It is not to be denied," continues the message, "that this trade is still, in part, carried on by means of vessels built in the United States, and owned or navigated by some of our citizens."[48] Governor Buchanan of Liberia reported in 1839: "The chief obstacle to the success of the very active measures pursued by the British government for the suppression of the slave-trade on the coast, is the _American flag_. Never was the proud banner of freedom so extensively used by those pirates upon liberty and humanity, as at this season."[49] One well-known American slaver was boarded fifteen times and twice taken into port, but always escaped by means of her papers.[50] Even American officers report that the English are doing all they can, but that the American flag protects the trade.[51] The evidence which literally poured in from our consuls and ministers at Brazil adds to the story of the guilt of the United States.[52] It was proven that the participation of United States citizens in the trade was large and systematic. One of the most notorious slave merchants of Brazil said: "I am worried by the Americans, who insist upon my hiring their vessels for slave-trade."[53] Minister Proffit stated, in 1844, that the "slave-trade is almost entirely carried on under our flag, in American-built vessels."[54] So, too, in Cuba: the British commissioners affirm that American citizens were openly engaged in the traffic; vessels arrived undisguised at Havana from the United States, and cleared for Africa as slavers after an alleged sale.[55] The American consul, Trist, was proven to have consciously or unconsciously aided this trade by the issuance of blank clearance papers.[56] The presence of American capital in these enterprises, and the connivance of the authorities, were proven in many cases and known in scores. In 1837 the English government informed the United States that from the papers of a captured slaver it appeared that the notorious slave-trading firm, Blanco and Carballo of Havana, who owned the vessel, had correspondents in the United States: "at Baltimore, Messrs. Peter Harmony and Co., in New York, Robert Barry, Esq."[57] The slaver "Martha" of New York, captured by the "Perry," contained among her papers curious revelations of the guilt of persons in America who were little suspected.[58] The slaver "Prova," which was allowed to lie in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina, and refit, was afterwards captured with two hundred and twenty-five slaves on board.[59] The real reason that prevented many belligerent Congressmen from pressing certain search claims against England lay in the fact that the unjustifiable detentions had unfortunately revealed so much American guilt that it was deemed wiser to let the matter end in talk. For instance, in 1850 Congress demanded information as to illegal searches, and President Fillmore's report showed the uncomfortable fact that, of the ten American ships wrongly detained by English men-of-war, nine were proven red-handed slavers.[60] The consul at Havana reported, in 1836, that whole cargoes of slaves fresh from Africa were being daily shipped to Texas in American vessels, that 1,000 had been sent within a few months, that the rate was increasing, and that many of these slaves "can scarcely fail to find their way into the United States." Moreover, the consul acknowledged that ships frequently cleared for the United States in ballast, taking on a cargo at some secret point.[61] When with these facts we consider the law facilitating "recovery" of slaves from Texas,[62] the repeated refusals to regulate the Texan trade, and the shelving of a proposed congressional investigation into these matters,[63] conjecture becomes a practical certainty. It was estimated in 1838 that 15,000 Africans were annually taken to Texas, and "there are even grounds for suspicion that there are other places ... where slaves are introduced."[64] Between 1847 and 1853 the slave smuggler Drake had a slave depot in the Gulf, where sometimes as many as 1,600 Negroes were on hand, and the owners were continually importing and shipping. "The joint-stock company," writes this smuggler, "was a very extensive one, and connected with leading American and Spanish mercantile houses. Our island[65] was visited almost weekly, by agents from Cuba, New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Boston, and New Orleans.... The seasoned and instructed slaves were taken to Texas, or Florida, overland, and to Cuba, in sailing-boats. As no squad contained more than half a dozen, no difficulty was found in posting them to the United States, without discovery, and generally without suspicion.... The Bay Island plantation sent ventures weekly to the Florida Keys. Slaves were taken into the great American swamps, and there kept till wanted for the market. Hundreds were sold as captured runaways from the Florida wilderness. We had agents in every slave State; and our coasters were built in Maine, and came out with lumber. I could tell curious stories ... of this business of smuggling Bozal negroes into the United States. It is growing more profitable every year, and if you should hang all the Yankee merchants engaged in it, hundreds would fill their places."[66] Inherent probability and concurrent testimony confirm the substantial truth of such confessions. For instance, one traveller discovers on a Southern plantation Negroes who can speak no English.[67] The careful reports of the Quakers "apprehend that many [slaves] are also introduced into the United States."[68] Governor Mathew of the Bahama Islands reports that "in more than one instance, Bahama vessels with coloured crews have been purposely wrecked on the coast of Florida, and the crews forcibly sold." This was brought to the notice of the United States authorities, but the district attorney of Florida could furnish no information.[69] Such was the state of the slave-trade in 1850, on the threshold of the critical decade which by a herculean effort was destined finally to suppress it. FOOTNOTES: [1] Beer, _Geschichte des Welthandels im 19^{ten} Jahrhundert_, II. 67. [2] A list of these inventions most graphically illustrates this advance:-- 1738, John Jay, fly-shuttle. John Wyatt, spinning by rollers. 1748, Lewis Paul, carding-machine. 1760, Robert Kay, drop-box. 1769, Richard Arkwright, water-frame and throstle. James Watt, steam-engine. 1772, James Lees, improvements on carding-machine. 1775, Richard Arkwright, series of combinations. 1779, Samuel Compton, mule. 1785, Edmund Cartwright, power-loom. 1803-4, Radcliffe and Johnson, dressing-machine. 1817, Roberts, fly-frame. 1818, William Eaton, self-acting frame. 1825-30, Roberts, improvements on mule. Cf. Baines, _History of the Cotton Manufacture_, pp. 116-231; _Encyclopædia Britannica_, 9th ed., article "Cotton." [3] Baines, _History of the Cotton Manufacture_, p. 215. A bale weighed from 375 lbs. to 400 lbs. [4] The prices cited are from Newmarch and Tooke, and refer to the London market. The average price in 1855-60 was about 7_d._ [5] From United States census reports. [6] Cf. United States census reports; and Olmsted, _The Cotton Kingdom_. [7] Cf. United States census reports; and Olmsted, _The Cotton Kingdom_. [8] As early as 1836 Calhoun declared that he should ever regret that the term "piracy" had been applied to the slave-trade in our laws: Benton, _Abridgment of Debates_, XII. 718. [9] Governor J.H. Hammond of South Carolina, in _Letters to Clarkson_, No. 1, p. 2. [10] In 1826 Forsyth of Georgia attempted to have a bill passed abolishing the African agency, and providing that the Africans imported be disposed of in some way that would entail no expense on the public treasury: _Home Journal_, 19 Cong. 1 sess. p. 258. In 1828 a bill was reported to the House to abolish the agency and make the Colonization Society the agents, if they would agree to the terms. The bill was so amended as merely to appropriate money for suppressing the slave-trade: _Ibid._, 20 Cong. 1 sess., House Bill No. 190. [11] _Ibid._, pp. 121, 135; 20 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 58-9, 84, 215. [12] _Congressional Globe_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 328, 331-6. [13] Cf. Mercer's bill, _House Journal_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. p. 512; also Strange's two bills, _Senate Journal_, 25 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 200, 313; 26 Cong. 1 sess., Senate Bill No. 123. [14] _Senate Journal_, 25 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 297-8, 300. [15] _Senate Doc_, 28 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 217, p. 19; _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 6, pp. 3, 10, etc.; 33 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 47, pp. 5-6; 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV. No. 99, p. 80; _House Journal_, 26 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 117-8; cf. _Ibid._, 20 Cong. 1 sess. p. 650, etc.; 21 Cong. 2 sess. p. 194; 27 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 31, 184; _House Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 43, p. 11; _House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. III. pt. 1, No. 5, pp. 7-8. [16] _Senate Journal_, 26 Cong. 1 sess., Senate Bill No. 335; _House Journal_, 26 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1138, 1228, 1257. [17] _Statutes at Large_, III. 764. [18] Cf. above, Chapter VIII. p. 125. [19] Cf. _Report of the Secretary of the Navy_, 1827. [20] _Ibid._ [21] _House Reports_, 24 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 223. [22] This account is taken exclusively from government documents: _Amer. State Papers, Naval_, III. Nos. 339, 340, 357, 429 E; IV. Nos. 457 R (1 and 2), 486 H, I, p. 161 and 519 R, 564 P, 585 P; _House Reports_, 19 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 65; _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 69; 21 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 42-3, 211-8; 22 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 45, 272-4; 22 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 48, 229; 23 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 238, 269; 23 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 315, 363; 24 Cong, 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 336, 378; 24 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 450, 506; 25 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 3, pp. 771, 850; 26 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 534, 612; 26 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 405, 450. It is probable that the agent became eventually the United States consul and minister; I cannot however cite evidence for this supposition. [23] _Report of the Secretary of the Navy_, 1824. [24] _Ibid._, 1826. [25] _Ibid._, 1839. [26] _Ibid._, 1842. [27] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1857-8, p. 1250. [28] Lord Napier to Secretary of State Cass, Dec. 24, 1857: _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1857-8, p. 1249. [29] _Parliamentary Papers_, 1847-8, Vol. LXIV. No. 133, _Papers Relative to the Suppression of the Slave Trade on the Coast of Africa_, p. 2. [30] Report of Perry: _Senate Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 150, p. 118. [31] Consul Park at Rio Janeiro to Secretary Buchanan, Aug. 20, 1847: _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61, p. 7. [32] Suppose "an American vessel employed to take in negroes at some point on this coast. There is no American man-of-war here to obtain intelligence. What risk does she run of being searched? But suppose that there is a man-of-war in port. What is to secure the master of the merchantman against her [the man-of-war's commander's knowing all about his [the merchant-man's] intention, or suspecting it in time to be upon him [the merchant-man] before he shall have run a league on his way to Texas?" Consul Trist to Commander Spence: _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 1 sess. No. 34, p. 41.] [33] A typical set of instructions was on the following plan: 1. You are charged with the protection of legitimate commerce. 2. While the United States wishes to suppress the slave-trade, she will not admit a Right of Search by foreign vessels. 3. You are to arrest slavers. 4. You are to allow in no case an exercise of the Right of Search or any great interruption of legitimate commerce.--To Commodore Perry, March 30, 1843: _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 104. [34] _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, pp. 765-8. Cf. Benton's speeches on the treaty of 1842. [35] Report of Hotham to Admiralty, April 7, 1847: _Parliamentary Papers_, 1847-8, Vol. LXIV. No. 133, _Papers Relative to the Suppression of the Slave Trade on the Coast of Africa_, p. 13. [36] _Opinions of Attorneys-General_, III. 512. [37] _Tenth Annual Report of the Amer. and Foreign Anti-Slav. Soc._, May 7, 1850, p. 149. [38] _Opinions of Attorneys-General_, IV. 245. [39] _Senate Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 150, pp. 108, 132. [40] _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61, p. 18. [41] Foote, _Africa and the American Flag_, pp. 286-90. [42] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1839-40, pp. 913-4. [43] Cf. United States census reports; and Olmsted, _Cotton Kingdom_. [44] _House Journal_, 26 Cong. 1 sess. p. 118. [45] _Ibid._, 27 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 31, 184. [46] _Ibid._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 14, 15, 86, 113. [47] _Senate Journal_, 28 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 191, 227. [48] _House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. III. pt. I. No. 5, p. 7. [49] Foote, _Africa and the American Flag_, p. 152. [50] _Ibid._, pp. 152-3. [51] _Ibid._, p. 241. [52] Cf. e.g. _House Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IV. pt. I. No. 148; 29 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 43; _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61; _Senate Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 28; 31 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 6; 33 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 47. [53] Foote, _Africa and the American Flag_, p. 218. [54] _Ibid._, p. 221. [55] Palmerston to Stevenson: _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, p. 5. In 1836 five such slavers were known to have cleared; in 1837, eleven; in 1838, nineteen; and in 1839, twenty-three: _Ibid._, pp. 220-1. [56] _Parliamentary Papers_, 1839, Vol. XLIX., _Slave Trade_, class A, Further Series, pp. 58-9; class B, Further Series, p. 110; class D, Further Series, p. 25. Trist pleaded ignorance of the law: Trist to Forsyth, _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115. [57] _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115. [58] Foote, _Africa and the American Flag_, p. 290. [59] _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 121, 163-6. [60] _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. XIV No. 66. [61] Trist to Forsyth: _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115. "The business of supplying the United States with Africans from this island is one that must necessarily exist," because "slaves are a hundred _per cent_, or more, higher in the United States than in Cuba," and this profit "is a temptation which it is not in human nature as modified by American institutions to withstand": _Ibid._ [62] _Statutes at Large_, V. 674. [63] Cf. above, p. 157, note 1. [64] Buxton, _The African Slave Trade and its Remedy_, pp. 44-5. Cf. _2d Report of the London African Soc._, p. 22. [65] I.e., Bay Island in the Gulf of Mexico, near the coast of Honduras. [66] _Revelations of a Slave Smuggler_, p. 98. [67] Mr. H. Moulton in _Slavery as it is_, p. 140; cited in _Facts and Observations on the Slave Trade_ (Friends' ed. 1841), p. 8. [68] In a memorial to Congress, 1840: _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 211. [69] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1845-6, pp. 883, 968, 989-90. The governor wrote in reply: "The United States, if properly served by their law officers in the Floridas, will not experience any difficulty in obtaining the requisite knowledge of these illegal transactions, which, I have reason to believe, were the subject of common notoriety in the neighbourhood where they occurred, and of boast on the part of those concerned in them": _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1845-6, p. 990. * * * * * _Chapter XI_ THE FINAL CRISIS. 1850-1870. 80. The Movement against the Slave-Trade Laws. 81. Commercial Conventions of 1855-56. 82. Commercial Conventions of 1857-58. 83. Commercial Convention of 1859. 84. Public Opinion in the South. 85. The Question in Congress. 86. Southern Policy in 1860. 87. Increase of the Slave-Trade from 1850 to 1860. 88. Notorious Infractions of the Laws. 89. Apathy of the Federal Government. 90. Attitude of the Southern Confederacy. 91. Attitude of the United States. 80. ~The Movement against the Slave-Trade Laws.~ It was not altogether a mistaken judgment that led the constitutional fathers to consider the slave-trade as the backbone of slavery. An economic system based on slave labor will find, sooner or later, that the demand for the cheapest slave labor cannot long be withstood. Once degrade the laborer so that he cannot assert his own rights, and there is but one limit below which his price cannot be reduced. That limit is not his physical well-being, for it may be, and in the Gulf States it was, cheaper to work him rapidly to death; the limit is simply the cost of procuring him and keeping him alive a profitable length of time. Only the moral sense of a community can keep helpless labor from sinking to this level; and when a community has once been debauched by slavery, its moral sense offers little resistance to economic demand. This was the case in the West Indies and Brazil; and although better moral stamina held the crisis back longer in the United States, yet even here the ethical standard of the South was not able to maintain itself against the demands of the cotton industry. When, after 1850, the price of slaves had risen to a monopoly height, the leaders of the plantation system, brought to the edge of bankruptcy by the crude and reckless farming necessary under a slave _régime_, and baffled, at least temporarily, in their quest of new rich land to exploit, began instinctively to feel that the only salvation of American slavery lay in the reopening of the African slave-trade. It took but a spark to put this instinctive feeling into words, and words led to deeds. The movement first took definite form in the ever radical State of South Carolina. In 1854 a grand jury in the Williamsburg district declared, "as our unanimous opinion, that the Federal law abolishing the African Slave Trade is a public grievance. We hold this trade has been and would be, if re-established, a blessing to the American people, and a benefit to the African himself."[1] This attracted only local attention; but when, in 1856, the governor of the State, in his annual message, calmly argued at length for a reopening of the trade, and boldly declared that "if we cannot supply the demand for slave labor, then we must expect to be supplied with a species of labor we do not want,"[2] such words struck even Southern ears like "a thunder clap in a calm day."[3] And yet it needed but a few years to show that South Carolina had merely been the first to put into words the inarticulate thought of a large minority, if not a majority, of the inhabitants of the Gulf States. 81. ~Commercial Conventions of 1855-56.~ The growth of the movement is best followed in the action of the Southern Commercial Convention, an annual gathering which seems to have been fairly representative of a considerable part of Southern opinion. In the convention that met at New Orleans in 1855, McGimsey of Louisiana introduced a resolution instructing the Southern Congressmen to secure the repeal of the slave-trade laws. This resolution went to the Committee on Resolutions, and was not reported.[4] In 1856, in the convention at Savannah, W.B. Goulden of Georgia moved that the members of Congress be requested to bestir themselves energetically to have repealed all laws which forbade the slave-trade. By a vote of 67 to 18 the convention refused to debate the motion, but appointed a committee to present at the next convention the facts relating to a reopening of the trade.[5] In regard to this action a pamphlet of the day said: "There were introduced into the convention two leading measures, viz.: the laying of a State tariff on northern goods, and the reopening of the slave-trade; the one to advance our commercial interest, the other our agricultural interest, and which, when taken together, as they were doubtless intended to be, and although they have each been attacked by presses of doubtful service to the South, are characterized in the private judgment of politicians as one of the completest southern remedies ever submitted to popular action.... The proposition to revive, or more properly to reopen, the slave trade is as yet but imperfectly understood, in its intentions and probable results, by the people of the South, and but little appreciated by them. It has been received in all parts of the country with an undefined sort of repugnance, a sort of squeamishness, which is incident to all such violations of moral prejudices, and invariably wears off on familiarity with the subject. The South will commence by enduring, and end by embracing the project."[6] The matter being now fully before the public through these motions, Governor Adams's message, and newspaper and pamphlet discussion, the radical party pushed the project with all energy. 82. ~Commercial Conventions of 1857-58.~ The first piece of regular business that came before the Commercial Convention at Knoxville, Tennessee, August 10, 1857, was a proposal to recommend the abrogation of the 8th Article of the Treaty of Washington, on the slave-trade. An amendment offered by Sneed of Tennessee, declaring it inexpedient and against settled policy to reopen the trade, was voted down, Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, South Carolina, and Virginia refusing to agree to it. The original motion then passed; and the radicals, satisfied with their success in the first skirmish, again secured the appointment of a committee to report at the next meeting on the subject of reopening the slave-trade.[7] This next meeting assembled May 10, 1858, in a Gulf State, Alabama, in the city of Montgomery. Spratt of South Carolina, the slave-trade champion, presented an elaborate majority report from the committee, and recommended the following resolutions:-- 1. _Resolved_, That slavery is right, and that being right, there can be no wrong in the natural means to its formation. 2. _Resolved_, That it is expedient and proper that the foreign slave trade should be re-opened, and that this Convention will lend its influence to any legitimate measure to that end. 3. _Resolved_, That a committee, consisting of one from each slave State, be appointed to consider of the means, consistent with the duty and obligations of these States, for re-opening the foreign slave-trade, and that they report their plan to the next meeting of this Convention. Yancey, from the same committee, presented a minority report, which, though it demanded the repeal of the national prohibitory laws, did not advocate the reopening of the trade by the States. Much debate ensued. Pryor of Virginia declared the majority report "a proposition to dissolve the Union." Yancey declared that "he was for disunion now. [Applause.]" He defended the principle of the slave-trade, and said: "If it is right to buy slaves in Virginia and carry them to New Orleans, why is it not right to buy them in Cuba, Brazil, or Africa, and carry them there?" The opposing speeches made little attempt to meet this uncomfortable logic; but, nevertheless, opposition enough was developed to lay the report on the table until the next convention, with orders that it be printed, in the mean time, as a radical campaign document. Finally the convention passed a resolution:-- That it is inexpedient for any State, or its citizens, to attempt to re-open the African slave-trade while that State is one of the United States of America.[8] 83. ~Commercial Convention of 1859.~ The Convention of 1859 met at Vicksburg, Mississippi, May 9-19, and the slave-trade party came ready for a fray. On the second day Spratt called up his resolutions, and the next day the Committee on Resolutions recommended that, _"in the opinion of this Convention, all laws, State or Federal, prohibiting the African slave trade, ought to be repealed."_ Two minority reports accompanied this resolution: one proposed to postpone action, on account of the futility of the attempt at that time; the other report recommended that, since repeal of the national laws was improbable, nullification by the States impracticable, and action by the Supreme Court unlikely, therefore the States should bring in the Africans as apprentices, a system the legality of which "is incontrovertible." "The only difficult question," it was said, "is the future status of the apprentices after the expiration of their term of servitude."[9] Debate on these propositions began in the afternoon. A brilliant speech on the resumption of the importation of slaves, says Foote of Mississippi, "was listened to with breathless attention and applauded vociferously. Those of us who rose in opposition were looked upon by the excited assemblage present as _traitors_ to the best interests of the South, and only worthy of expulsion from the body. The excitement at last grew so high that personal violence was menaced, and some dozen of the more conservative members of the convention withdrew from the hall in which it was holding its sittings."[10] "It was clear," adds De Bow, "that the people of Vicksburg looked upon it [i.e., the convention] with some distrust."[11] When at last a ballot was taken, the first resolution passed by a vote of 40 to 19.[12] Finally, the 8th Article of the Treaty of Washington was again condemned; and it was also suggested, in the newspaper which was the official organ of the meeting, that "the Convention raise a fund to be dispensed in premiums for the best sermons in favor of reopening the African Slave Trade."[13] 84. ~Public Opinion in the South.~ This record of the Commercial Conventions probably gives a true reflection of the development of extreme opinion on the question of reopening the slave-trade. First, it is noticeable that on this point there was a distinct divergence of opinion and interest between the Gulf and the Border States, and it was this more than any moral repugnance that checked the radicals. The whole movement represented the economic revolt of the slave-consuming cotton-belt against their base of labor supply. This revolt was only prevented from gaining its ultimate end by the fact that the Gulf States could not get on without the active political co-operation of the Border States. Thus, although such hot-heads as Spratt were not able, even as late as 1859, to carry a substantial majority of the South with them in an attempt to reopen the trade at all hazards, yet the agitation did succeed in sweeping away nearly all theoretical opposition to the trade, and left the majority of Southern people in an attitude which regarded the reopening of the African slave-trade as merely a question of expediency. This growth of Southern opinion is clearly to be followed in the newspapers and pamphlets of the day, in Congress, and in many significant movements. The Charleston _Standard_ in a series of articles strongly advocated the reopening of the trade; the Richmond _Examiner_, though opposing the scheme as a Virginia paper should, was brought to "acknowledge that the laws which condemn the Slave-trade imply an aspersion upon the character of the South.[14] In March, 1859, the _National Era_ said: "There can be no doubt that the idea of reviving the African Slave Trade is gaining ground in the South. Some two months ago we could quote strong articles from ultra Southern journals against the traffic; but of late we have been sorry to observe in the same journals an ominous silence upon the subject, while the advocates of 'free trade in negroes' are earnest and active."[15] The Savannah _Republican_, which at first declared the movement to be of no serious intent, conceded, in 1859, that it was gaining favor, and that nine-tenths of the Democratic Congressional Convention favored it, and that even those who did not advocate a revival demanded the abolition of the laws.[16] A correspondent from South Carolina writes, December 18, 1859: "The nefarious project of opening it [i.e., the slave trade] has been started here in that prurient temper of the times which manifests itself in disunion schemes.... My State is strangely and terribly infected with all this sort of thing.... One feeling that gives a countenance to the opening of the slave trade is, that it will be a sort of spite to the North and defiance of their opinions."[17] The New Orleans _Delta_ declared that those who voted for the slave-trade in Congress were men "whose names will be honored hereafter for the unflinching manner in which they stood up for principle, for truth, and consistency, as well as the vital interests of the South."[18] 85. ~The Question in Congress.~ Early in December, 1856, the subject reached Congress; and although the agitation was then new, fifty-seven Southern Congressmen refused to declare a re-opening of the slave-trade "shocking to the moral sentiment of the enlightened portion of mankind," and eight refused to call the reopening even "unwise" and "inexpedient."[19] Three years later, January 31, 1859, it was impossible, in a House of one hundred and ninety-nine members, to get a two-thirds vote in order even to consider Kilgore's resolutions, which declared "that no legislation can be too thorough in its measures, nor can any penalty known to the catalogue of modern punishment for crime be too severe against a traffic so inhuman and unchristian."[20] Congressmen and other prominent men hastened with the rising tide.[21] Dowdell of Alabama declared the repressive acts "highly offensive;" J.B. Clay of Kentucky was "opposed to all these laws;"[22] Seward of Georgia declared them "wrong, and a violation of the Constitution;"[23] Barksdale of Mississippi agreed with this sentiment; Crawford of Georgia threatened a reopening of the trade; Miles of South Carolina was for "sweeping away" all restrictions;[24] Keitt of South Carolina wished to withdraw the African squadron, and to cease to brand slave-trading as piracy;[25] Brown of Mississippi "would repeal the law instantly;"[26] Alexander Stephens, in his farewell address to his constituents, said: "Slave states cannot be made without Africans.... [My object is] to bring clearly to your mind the great truth that without an increase of African slaves from abroad, you may not expect or look for many more slave States."[27] Jefferson Davis strongly denied "any coincidence of opinion with those who prate of the inhumanity and sinfulness of the trade. The interest of Mississippi," said he, "not of the African, dictates my conclusion." He opposed the immediate reopening of the trade in Mississippi for fear of a paralyzing influx of Negroes, but carefully added: "This conclusion, in relation to Mississippi, is based upon my view of her _present_ condition, _not_ upon any _general theory_. It is not supposed to be applicable to Texas, to New Mexico, or to any _future acquisitions_ to be made south of the Rio Grande."[28] John Forsyth, who for seven years conducted the slave-trade diplomacy of the nation, declared, about 1860: "But one stronghold of its [i.e., slavery's] enemies remains to be carried, to _complete its triumph_ and assure its welfare,--that is the existing prohibition of the African Slave-trade."[29] Pollard, in his _Black Diamonds_, urged the importation of Africans as "laborers." "This I grant you," said he, "would be practically the re-opening of the African slave trade; but ... you will find that it very often becomes necessary to evade the letter of the law, in some of the greatest measures of social happiness and patriotism."[30] 86. ~Southern Policy in 1860.~ The matter did not rest with mere words. During the session of the Vicksburg Convention, an "African Labor Supply Association" was formed, under the presidency of J.D.B. De Bow, editor of _De Bow's Review_, and ex-superintendent of the seventh census. The object of the association was "to promote the supply of African labor."[31] In 1857 the committee of the South Carolina legislature to whom the Governor's slave-trade message was referred made an elaborate report, which declared in italics: _"The South at large does need a re-opening of the African slave trade."_ Pettigrew, the only member who disagreed to this report, failed of re-election. The report contained an extensive argument to prove the kingship of cotton, the perfidy of English philanthropy, and the lack of slaves in the South, which, it was said, would show a deficit of six hundred thousand slaves by 1878.[32] In Georgia, about this time, an attempt to expunge the slave-trade prohibition in the State Constitution lacked but one vote of passing.[33] From these slower and more legal movements came others less justifiable. The long argument on the "apprentice" system finally brought a request to the collector of the port at Charleston, South Carolina, from E. Lafitte & Co., for a clearance to Africa for the purpose of importing African "emigrants." The collector appealed to the Secretary of the Treasury, Howell Cobb of Georgia, who flatly refused to take the bait, and replied that if the "emigrants" were brought in as slaves, it would be contrary to United States law; if as freemen, it would be contrary to their own State law.[34] In Louisiana a still more radical movement was attempted, and a bill passed the House of Representatives authorizing a company to import two thousand five hundred Africans, "indentured" for fifteen years "at least." The bill lacked but two votes of passing the Senate.[35] It was said that the _Georgian_, of Savannah, contained a notice of an agricultural society which "unanimously resolved to offer a premium of $25 for the best specimen of a live African imported into the United States within the last twelve months."[36] It would not be true to say that there was in the South in 1860 substantial unanimity on the subject of reopening the slave-trade; nevertheless, there certainly was a large and influential minority, including perhaps a majority of citizens of the Gulf States, who favored the project, and, in defiance of law and morals, aided and abetted its actual realization. Various movements, it must be remembered, gained much of their strength from the fact that their success meant a partial nullification of the slave-trade laws. The admission of Texas added probably seventy-five thousand recently imported slaves to the Southern stock; the movement against Cuba, which culminated in the "Ostend Manifesto" of Buchanan, Mason, and Soulé, had its chief impetus in the thousands of slaves whom Americans had poured into the island. Finally, the series of filibustering expeditions against Cuba, Mexico, and Central America were but the wilder and more irresponsible attempts to secure both slave territory and slaves. 87. ~Increase of the Slave-Trade from 1850 to 1860.~ The long and open agitation for the reopening of the slave-trade, together with the fact that the South had been more or less familiar with violations of the laws since 1808, led to such a remarkable increase of illicit traffic and actual importations in the decade 1850-1860, that the movement may almost be termed a reopening of the slave-trade. In the foreign slave-trade our own officers continue to report "how shamefully our flag has been used;"[37] and British officers write "that at least one half of the successful part of the slave trade is carried on under the American flag," and this because "the number of American cruisers on the station is so small, in proportion to the immense extent of the slave-dealing coast."[38] The fitting out of slavers became a flourishing business in the United States, and centred at New York City. "Few of our readers," writes a periodical of the day, "are aware of the extent to which this infernal traffic is carried on, by vessels clearing from New York, and in close alliance with our legitimate trade; and that down-town merchants of wealth and respectability are extensively engaged in buying and selling African Negroes, and have been, with comparatively little interruption, for an indefinite number of years."[39] Another periodical says: "The number of persons engaged in the slave-trade, and the amount of capital embarked in it, exceed our powers of calculation. The city of New York has been until of late [1862] the principal port of the world for this infamous commerce; although the cities of Portland and Boston are only second to her in that distinction. Slave dealers added largely to the wealth of our commercial metropolis; they contributed liberally to the treasuries of political organizations, and their bank accounts were largely depleted to carry elections in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Connecticut."[40] During eighteen months of the years 1859-1860 eighty-five slavers are reported to have been fitted out in New York harbor,[41] and these alone transported from 30,000 to 60,000 slaves annually.[42] The United States deputy marshal of that district declared in 1856 that the business of fitting out slavers "was never prosecuted with greater energy than at present. The occasional interposition of the legal authorities exercises no apparent influence for its suppression. It is seldom that one or more vessels cannot be designated at the wharves, respecting which there is evidence that she is either in or has been concerned in the Traffic."[43] On the coast of Africa "it is a well-known fact that most of the Slave ships which visit the river are sent from New York and New Orleans."[44] The absence of United States war-ships at the Brazilian station enabled American smugglers to run in cargoes, in spite of the prohibitory law. One cargo of five hundred slaves was landed in 1852, and the _Correio Mercantil_ regrets "that it was the flag of the United States which covered this act of piracy, sustained by citizens of that great nation."[45] When the Brazil trade declined, the illicit Cuban trade greatly increased, and the British consul reported: "Almost all the slave expeditions for some time past have been fitted out in the United States, chiefly at New York."[46] 88. ~Notorious Infractions of the Laws.~ This decade is especially noteworthy for the great increase of illegal importations into the South. These became bold, frequent, and notorious. Systematic introduction on a considerable scale probably commenced in the forties, although with great secrecy. "To have boldly ventured into New Orleans, with negroes freshly imported from Africa, would not only have brought down upon the head of the importer the vengeance of our very philanthropic Uncle Sam, but also the anathemas of the whole sect of philanthropists and negrophilists everywhere. To import them for years, however, into quiet places, evading with impunity the penalty of the law, and the ranting of the thin-skinned sympathizers with Africa, was gradually to popularize the traffic by creating a demand for laborers, and thus to pave the way for the _gradual revival of the slave trade_. To this end, a few men, bold and energetic, determined, ten or twelve years ago [1848 or 1850], to commence the business of importing negroes, slowly at first, but surely; and for this purpose they selected a few secluded places on the coast of Florida, Georgia and Texas, for the purpose of concealing their stock until it could be sold out. Without specifying other places, let me draw your attention to a deep and abrupt pocket or indentation in the coast of Texas, about thirty miles from Brazos Santiago. Into this pocket a slaver could run at any hour of the night, because there was no hindrance at the entrance, and here she could discharge her cargo of movables upon the projecting bluff, and again proceed to sea inside of three hours. The live stock thus landed could be marched a short distance across the main island, over a porous soil which refuses to retain the recent foot-prints, until they were again placed in boats, and were concealed upon some of the innumerable little islands which thicken on the waters of the Laguna in the rear. These islands, being covered with a thick growth of bushes and grass, offer an inscrutable hiding place for the 'black diamonds.'"[47] These methods became, however, toward 1860, too slow for the radicals, and the trade grew more defiant and open. The yacht "Wanderer," arrested on suspicion in New York and released, landed in Georgia six months later four hundred and twenty slaves, who were never recovered.[48] The Augusta _Despatch_ says: "Citizens of our city are probably interested in the enterprise. It is hinted that this is the third cargo landed by the same company, during the last six months."[49] Two parties of Africans were brought into Mobile with impunity. One bark, strongly suspected of having landed a cargo of slaves, was seized on the Florida coast; another vessel was reported to be landing slaves near Mobile; a letter from Jacksonville, Florida, stated that a bark had left there for Africa to ship a cargo for Florida and Georgia.[50] Stephen A. Douglas said "that there was not the shadow of doubt that the Slave-trade had been carried on quite extensively for a long time back, and that there had been more Slaves imported into the southern States, during the last year, than had ever been imported before in any one year, even when the Slave-trade was legal. It was his confident belief, that over fifteen thousand Slaves had been brought into this country during the past year [1859.] He had seen, with his own eyes, three hundred of those recently-imported, miserable beings, in a Slave-pen in Vicksburg, Miss., and also large numbers at Memphis, Tenn."[51] It was currently reported that depots for these slaves existed in over twenty large cities and towns in the South, and an interested person boasted to a senator, about 1860, that "twelve vessels would discharge their living freight upon our shores within ninety days from the 1st of June last," and that between sixty and seventy cargoes had been successfully introduced in the last eighteen months.[52] The New York _Tribune_ doubted the statement; but John C. Underwood, formerly of Virginia, wrote to the paper saying that he was satisfied that the correspondent was correct. "I have," he said, "had ample evidences of the fact, that reopening the African Slave-trade is a thing already accomplished, and the traffic is brisk, and rapidly increasing. In fact, the most vital question of the day is not the opening of this trade, but its suppression. The arrival of cargoes of negroes, fresh from Africa, in our southern ports, is an event of frequent occurrence."[53] Negroes, newly landed, were openly advertised for sale in the public press, and bids for additional importations made. In reply to one of these, the Mobile _Mercury_ facetiously remarks: "Some negroes who never learned to talk English, went up the railroad the other day."[54] Congressmen declared on the floor of the House: "The slave trade may therefore be regarded as practically re-established;"[55] and petitions like that from the American Missionary Society recited the fact that "this piratical and illegal trade--this inhuman invasion of the rights of men,--this outrage on civilization and Christianity--this violation of the laws of God and man--is openly countenanced and encouraged by a portion of the citizens of some of the States of this Union."[56] From such evidence it seems clear that the slave-trade laws, in spite of the efforts of the government, in spite even of much opposition to these extra-legal methods in the South itself, were grossly violated, if not nearly nullified, in the latter part of the decade 1850-1860. 89. ~Apathy of the Federal Government.~ During the decade there was some attempt at reactionary legislation, chiefly directed at the Treaty of Washington. June 13, 1854, Slidell, from the Committee on Foreign Relations, made an elaborate report to the Senate, advocating the abrogation of the 8th Article of that treaty, on the ground that it was costly, fatal to the health of the sailors, and useless, as the trade had actually increased under its operation.[57] Both this and a similar attempt in the House failed,[58] as did also an attempt to substitute life imprisonment for the death penalty.[59] Most of the actual legislation naturally took the form of appropriations. In 1853 there was an attempt to appropriate $20,000.[60] This failed, and the appropriation of $8,000 in 1856 was the first for ten years.[61] The following year brought a similar appropriation,[62] and in 1859[63] and 1860[64] $75,000 and $40,000 respectively were appropriated. Of attempted legislation to strengthen the laws there was plenty: e.g., propositions to regulate the issue of sea-letters and the use of our flag;[65] to prevent the "coolie" trade, or the bringing in of "apprentices" or "African laborers;"[66] to stop the coastwise trade;[67] to assent to a Right of Search;[68] and to amend the Constitution by forever prohibiting the slave-trade.[69] The efforts of the executive during this period were criminally lax and negligent. "The General Government did not exert itself in good faith to carry out either its treaty stipulations or the legislation of Congress in regard to the matter. If a vessel was captured, her owners were permitted to bond her, and thus continue her in the trade; and if any man was convicted of this form of piracy, the executive always interposed between him and the penalty of his crime. The laws providing for the seizure of vessels engaged in the traffic were so constructed as to render the duty unremunerative; and marshals now find their fees for such services to be actually less than their necessary expenses. No one who bears this fact in mind will be surprised at the great indifference of these officers to the continuing of the slave-trade; in fact, he will be ready to learn that the laws of Congress upon the subject had become a dead letter, and that the suspicion was well grounded that certain officers of the Federal Government had actually connived at their violation."[70] From 1845 to 1854, in spite of the well-known activity of the trade, but five cases obtained cognizance in the New York district. Of these, Captains Mansfield and Driscoll forfeited their bonds of $5,000 each, and escaped; in the case of the notorious Canot, nothing had been done as late as 1856, although he was arrested in 1847; Captain Jefferson turned State's evidence, and, in the case of Captain Mathew, a _nolle prosequi_ was entered.[71] Between 1854 and 1856 thirty-two persons were indicted in New York, of whom only thirteen had at the latter date been tried, and only one of these convicted.[72] These dismissals were seldom on account of insufficient evidence. In the notorious case of the "Wanderer," she was arrested on suspicion, released, and soon after she landed a cargo of slaves in Georgia; some who attempted to seize the Negroes were arrested for larceny, and in spite of the efforts of Congress the captain was never punished. The yacht was afterwards started on another voyage, and being brought back to Boston was sold to her former owner for about one third her value.[73] The bark "Emily" was seized on suspicion and released, and finally caught red-handed on the coast of Africa; she was sent to New York for trial, but "disappeared" under a certain slave captain, Townsend, who had, previous to this, in the face of the most convincing evidence, been acquitted at Key West.[74] The squadron commanders of this time were by no means as efficient as their predecessors, and spent much of their time, apparently, in discussing the Right of Search. Instead of a number of small light vessels, which by the reports of experts were repeatedly shown to be the only efficient craft, the government, until 1859, persisted in sending out three or four great frigates. Even these did not attend faithfully to their duties. A letter from on board one of them shows that, out of a fifteen months' alleged service, only twenty-two days were spent on the usual cruising-ground for slavers, and thirteen of these at anchor; eleven months were spent at Madeira and Cape Verde Islands, 300 miles from the coast and 3,000 miles from the slave market.[75] British commanders report the apathy of American officers and the extreme caution of their instructions, which allowed many slavers to escape.[76] The officials at Washington often remained in blissful, and perhaps willing, ignorance of the state of the trade. While Americans were smuggling slaves by the thousands into Brazil, and by the hundreds into the United States, Secretary Graham was recommending the abrogation of the 8th Article of the Treaty of Washington;[77] so, too, when the Cuban slave-trade was reaching unprecedented activity, and while slavers were being fitted out in every port on the Atlantic seaboard, Secretary Kennedy naïvely reports, "The time has come, perhaps, when it may be properly commended to the notice of Congress to inquire into the necessity of further continuing the regular employment of a squadron on this [i.e., the African] coast."[78] Again, in 1855, the government has "advices that the slave trade south of the equator is entirely broken up;"[79] in 1856, the reports are "favorable;"[80] in 1857 a British commander writes: "No vessel has been seen here for one year, certainly; I think for nearly three years there have been no American cruizers on these waters, where a valuable and extensive American commerce is carried on. I cannot, therefore, but think that this continued absence of foreign cruizers looks as if they were intentionally withdrawn, and as if the Government did not care to take measures to prevent the American flag being used to cover Slave Trade transactions;"[81] nevertheless, in this same year, according to Secretary Toucey, "the force on the coast of Africa has fully accomplished its main object."[82] Finally, in the same month in which the "Wanderer" and her mates were openly landing cargoes in the South, President Buchanan, who seems to have been utterly devoid of a sense of humor, was urging the annexation of Cuba to the United States as the only method of suppressing the slave-trade![83] About 1859 the frequent and notorious violations of our laws aroused even the Buchanan government; a larger appropriation was obtained, swift light steamers were employed, and, though we may well doubt whether after such a carnival illegal importations "entirely" ceased, as the President informed Congress,[84] yet some sincere efforts at suppression were certainly begun. From 1850 to 1859 we have few notices of captured slavers, but in 1860 the increased appropriation of the thirty-fifth Congress resulted in the capture of twelve vessels with 3,119 Africans.[85] The Act of June 16, 1860, enabled the President to contract with the Colonization Society for the return of recaptured Africans; and by a long-needed arrangement cruisers were to proceed direct to Africa with such cargoes, instead of first landing them in this country.[86] 90. ~Attitude of the Southern Confederacy.~ The attempt, initiated by the constitutional fathers, to separate the problem of slavery from that of the slave-trade had, after a trial of half a century, signally failed, and for well-defined economic reasons. The nation had at last come to the parting of the ways, one of which led to a free-labor system, the other to a slave system fed by the slave-trade. Both sections of the country naturally hesitated at the cross-roads: the North clung to the delusion that a territorially limited system of slavery, without a slave-trade, was still possible in the South; the South hesitated to fight for her logical object--slavery and free trade in Negroes--and, in her moral and economic dilemma, sought to make autonomy and the Constitution her object. The real line of contention was, however, fixed by years of development, and was unalterable by the present whims or wishes of the contestants, no matter how important or interesting these might be: the triumph of the North meant free labor; the triumph of the South meant slavery and the slave-trade. It is doubtful if many of the Southern leaders ever deceived themselves by thinking that Southern slavery, as it then was, could long be maintained without a general or a partial reopening of the slave-trade. Many had openly declared this a few years before, and there was no reason for a change of opinion. Nevertheless, at the outbreak of actual war and secession, there were powerful and decisive reasons for relegating the question temporarily to the rear. In the first place, only by this means could the adherence of important Border States be secured, without the aid of which secession was folly. Secondly, while it did no harm to laud the independence of the South and the kingship of cotton in "stump" speeches and conventions, yet, when it came to actual hostilities, the South sorely needed the aid of Europe; and this a nation fighting for slavery and the slave-trade stood poor chance of getting. Consequently, after attacking the slave-trade laws for a decade, and their execution for a quarter-century, we find the Southern leaders inserting, in both the provisional and the permanent Constitutions of the Confederate States, the following article:-- The importation of negroes of the African race, from any foreign country other than the slaveholding States or Territories of the United States of America, is hereby forbidden; and Congress is required to pass such laws as shall effectually prevent the same. Congress shall also have power to prohibit the introduction of slaves from any State not a member of, or Territory not belonging to, this Confederacy.[87] The attitude of the Confederate government toward this article is best illustrated by its circular of instructions to its foreign ministers:-- It has been suggested to this Government, from a source of unquestioned authenticity, that, after the recognition of our independence by the European Powers, an expectation is generally entertained by them that in our treaties of amity and commerce a clause will be introduced making stipulations against the African slave trade. It is even thought that neutral Powers may be inclined to insist upon the insertion of such a clause as a _sine qua non_. You are well aware how firmly fixed in our Constitution is the policy of this Confederacy against the opening of that trade, but we are informed that false and insidious suggestions have been made by the agents of the United States at European Courts of our intention to change our constitution as soon as peace is restored, and of authorizing the importation of slaves from Africa. If, therefore, you should find, in your intercourse with the Cabinet to which you are accredited, that any such impressions are entertained, you will use every proper effort to remove them, and if an attempt is made to introduce into any treaty which you may be charged with negotiating stipulations on the subject just mentioned, you will assume, in behalf of your Government, the position which, under the direction of the President, I now proceed to develop. The Constitution of the Confederate States is an agreement made between independent States. By its terms all the powers of Government are separated into classes as follows, viz.:-- 1st. Such powers as the States delegate to the General Government. 2d. Such powers as the States agree to refrain from exercising, although they do not delegate them to the General Government. 3d. Such powers as the States, without delegating them to the General Government, thought proper to exercise by direct agreement between themselves contained in the Constitution. 4th. All remaining powers of sovereignty, which not being delegated to the Confederate States by the Constitution nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people thereof.... Especially in relation to the importation of African negroes was it deemed important by the States that no power to permit it should exist in the Confederate Government.... It will thus be seen that no power is delegated to the Confederate Government over this subject, but that it is included in the third class above referred to, of powers exercised directly by the States.... This Government unequivocally and absolutely denies its possession of any power whatever over the subject, and cannot entertain any proposition in relation to it.... The policy of the Confederacy is as fixed and immutable on this subject as the imperfection of human nature permits human resolve to be. No additional agreements, treaties, or stipulations can commit these States to the prohibition of the African slave trade with more binding efficacy than those they have themselves devised. A just and generous confidence in their good faith on this subject exhibited by friendly Powers will be far more efficacious than persistent efforts to induce this Government to assume the exercise of powers which it does not possess.... We trust, therefore, that no unnecessary discussions on this matter will be introduced into your negotiations. If, unfortunately, this reliance should prove ill-founded, you will decline continuing negotiations on your side, and transfer them to us at home....[88] This attitude of the conservative leaders of the South, if it meant anything, meant that individual State action could, when it pleased, reopen the slave-trade. The radicals were, of course, not satisfied with any veiling of the ulterior purpose of the new slave republic, and attacked the constitutional provision violently. "If," said one, "the clause be carried into the permanent government, our whole movement is defeated. It will abolitionize the Border Slave States--it will brand our institution. Slavery cannot share a government with Democracy,--it cannot bear a brand upon it; thence another revolution ... having achieved one revolution to escape democracy at the North, it must still achieve another to escape it at the South. That it will ultimately triumph none can doubt."[89] 91. ~Attitude of the United States.~ In the North, with all the hesitation in many matters, there existed unanimity in regard to the slave-trade; and the new Lincoln government ushered in the new policy of uncompromising suppression by hanging the first American slave-trader who ever suffered the extreme penalty of the law.[90] One of the earliest acts of President Lincoln was a step which had been necessary since 1808, but had never been taken, viz., the unification of the whole work of suppression into the hands of one responsible department. By an order, dated May 2, 1861, Caleb B. Smith, Secretary of the Interior, was charged with the execution of the slave-trade laws,[91] and he immediately began energetic work. Early in 1861, as soon as the withdrawal of the Southern members untied the hands of Congress, two appropriations of $900,000 each were made to suppress the slave trade, the first appropriations commensurate with the vastness of the task. These were followed by four appropriations of $17,000 each in the years 1863 to 1867, and two of $12,500 each in 1868 and 1869.[92] The first work of the new secretary was to obtain a corps of efficient assistants. To this end, he assembled all the marshals of the loyal seaboard States at New York, and gave them instruction and opportunity to inspect actual slavers. Congress also, for the first time, offered them proper compensation.[93] The next six months showed the effect of this policy in the fact that five vessels were seized and condemned, and four slave-traders were convicted and suffered the penalty of their crimes. "This is probably the largest number [of convictions] ever obtained, and certainly the only ones for many years."[94] Meantime the government opened negotiations with Great Britain, and the treaty of 1862 was signed June 7, and carried out by Act of Congress, July 11.[95] Specially commissioned war vessels of either government were by this agreement authorized to search merchant vessels on the high seas and specified coasts, and if they were found to be slavers, or, on account of their construction or equipment, were suspected to be such, they were to be sent for condemnation to one of the mixed courts established at New York, Sierra Leone, and the Cape of Good Hope. These courts, consisting of one judge and one arbitrator on the part of each government, were to judge the facts without appeal, and upon condemnation by them, the culprits were to be punished according to the laws of their respective countries. The area in which this Right of Search could be exercised was somewhat enlarged by an additional article to the treaty, signed in 1863. In 1870 the mixed courts were abolished, but the main part of the treaty was left in force. The Act of July 17, 1862, enabled the President to contract with foreign governments for the apprenticing of recaptured Africans in the West Indies,[96] and in 1864 the coastwise slave-trade was forever prohibited.[97] By these measures the trade was soon checked, and before the end of the war entirely suppressed.[98] The vigilance of the government, however, was not checked, and as late as 1866 a squadron of ten ships, with one hundred and thirteen guns, patrolled the slave coast.[99] Finally, the Thirteenth Amendment legally confirmed what the war had already accomplished, and slavery and the slave-trade fell at one blow.[100] FOOTNOTES: [1] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1854-5, p. 1156. [2] Cluskey, _Political Text-Book_ (14th ed.), p. 585. [3] _De Bow's Review_, XXII. 223; quoted from Andrew Hunter of Virginia. [4] _Ibid._, XVIII. 628. [5] _Ibid._, XXII. 91, 102, 217, 221-2. [6] From a pamphlet entitled "A New Southern Policy, or the Slave Trade as meaning Union and Conservatism;" quoted in Etheridge's speech, Feb. 21, 1857: _Congressional Globe_, 34 Cong. 3 sess., Appendix, p. 366. [7] _De Bow's Review_, XXIII. 298-320. A motion to table the motion on the 8th article was supported only by Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, and Maryland. Those voting for Sneed's motion were Georgia, Maryland, North Carolina, and Tennessee. The appointment of a slave-trade committee was at first defeated by a vote of 48 to 44. Finally a similar motion was passed, 52 to 40. [8] _De Bow's Review_, XXIV. 473-491, 579-605. The Louisiana delegation alone did not vote for the last resolution, the vote of her delegation being evenly divided. [9] _De Bow's Review_, XXVII. 94-235. [10] H.S. Foote, in _Bench and Bar of the South and Southwest_, p. 69. [11] _De Bow's Review_, XXVII. 115. [12] _Ibid._, p. 99. The vote was:-- _Yea._ _Nay._ Alabama, 5 votes. Tennessee, 12 votes. Arkansas, 4 " Florida, 3 " South Carolina, 4 " South Carolina, 4 " Louisiana, 6 " Total 19 Texas, 4 " Georgia, 10 " Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and Mississippi, 7 " North Carolina did not vote; they either Total 40 withdrew or were not represented. [13] Quoted in _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 38. The official organ was the _True Southron_. [14] Quoted in _24th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 54. [15] Quoted in _26th Report_, _Ibid._, p. 43. [16] _27th Report_, _Ibid._, pp. 19-20. [17] Letter of W.C. Preston, in the _National Intelligencer_, April 3, 1863. Also published in the pamphlet, _The African Slave Trade: The Secret Purpose_, etc., p. 26. [18] Quoted in Etheridge's speech: _Congressional Globe_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. Appen., p. 366. [19] _House Journal_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 105-10; _Congressional Globe_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 123-6; Cluskey, _Political Text-Book_ (14th ed.), p. 589. [20] _House Journal_, 35 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 298-9. Cf. _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 45. [21] Cf. _Reports of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, especially the 26th, pp. 43-4. [22] _Ibid._, p. 43. He referred especially to the Treaty of 1842. [23] _Ibid._; _Congressional Globe_, 35 Cong. 2 sess., Appen., pp. 248-50. [24] _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 44. [25] _Ibid._; _27th Report_, pp. 13-4. [26] _26th Report_, _Ibid._, p. 44. [27] Quoted in Lalor, _Cyclopædia_, III. 733; Cairnes, _The Slave Power_ (New York, 1862), p. 123, note; _27th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 15. [28] Quoted in Cairnes, _The Slave Power_, p. 123, note; _27th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 19. [29] _27th Report_, _Ibid._, p. 16; quoted from the Mobile _Register_. [30] Edition of 1859, pp. 63-4. [31] _De Bow's Review_, XXVII. 121, 231-5. [32] _Report of the Special Committee_, etc. (1857), pp. 24-5. [33] _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 40. The vote was 47 to 46. [34] _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 7, pp. 632-6. For the State law, cf. above, Chapter II. This refusal of Cobb's was sharply criticised by many Southern papers. Cf. _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 39. [35] New York _Independent_, March 11 and April 1, 1858. [36] _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 41. [37] Gregory to the Secretary of the Navy, June 8, 1850: _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. XIV. No. 66, p. 2. Cf. _Ibid._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 6. [38] Cumming to Commodore Fanshawe, Feb. 22, 1850: _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. XIV. No. 66, p. 8. [39] New York _Journal of Commerce_, 1857; quoted in _24th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 56. [40] "The Slave-Trade in New York," in the _Continental Monthly_, January, 1862, p. 87. [41] New York _Evening Post_; quoted in Lalor, _Cyclopædia_, III. 733. [42] Lalor, _Cyclopædia_, III. 733; quoted from a New York paper. [43] _Friends' Appeal on behalf of the Coloured Races_ (1858), Appendix, p. 41; quoted from the _Journal of Commerce_. [44] _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, pp. 53-4; quoted from the African correspondent of the Boston _Journal_. From April, 1857, to May, 1858, twenty-one of twenty-two slavers which were seized by British cruisers proved to be American, from New York, Boston, and New Orleans. Cf. _25th Report_, _Ibid._, p. 122. De Bow estimated in 1856 that forty slavers cleared annually from Eastern harbors, clearing yearly $17,000,000: _De Bow's Review_, XXII. 430-1. [45] _Senate Exec. Doc._, 33 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 47, p. 13. [46] _House Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 105, p. 38. [47] New York _Herald_, Aug. 5, 1860; quoted in Drake, _Revelations of a Slave Smuggler_, Introd., pp. vii.-viii. [48] _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 89. Cf. _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, pp. 45-9. [49] Quoted in _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 46. [50] For all the above cases, cf. _Ibid._, p. 49. [51] Quoted in _27th Report_, _Ibid._, p. 20. Cf. _Report of the Secretary of the Navy_, 1859; _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 2. [52] _27th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 21. [53] Quoted in _Ibid._ [54] Issue of July 22, 1860; quoted in Drake, _Revelations of a Slave Smuggler_, Introd., p. vi. The advertisement referred to was addressed to the "Ship-owners and Masters of our Mercantile Marine," and appeared in the Enterprise (Miss.) _Weekly News_, April 14, 1859. William S. Price and seventeen others state that they will "pay three hundred dollars per head for one thousand native Africans, between the ages of fourteen and twenty years, (of sexes equal,) likely, sound, and healthy, to be delivered within twelve months from this date, at some point accessible by land, between Pensacola, Fla., and Galveston, Texas; the contractors giving thirty days' notice as to time and place of delivery": Quoted in _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, pp. 41-2. [55] _Congressional Globe_, 35 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1362. Cf. the speech of a delegate from Georgia to the Democratic Convention at Charleston, 1860: "If any of you northern democrats will go home with me to my plantation, I will show you some darkies that I bought in Virginia, some in Delaware, some in Florida, and I will also show you the pure African, the noblest Roman of them all. I represent the African slave trade interest of my section:" Lalor, _Cyclopædia_, III. 733. [56] _Senate Misc. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. No. 8. [57] _Senate Journal_, 34 Cong. 1-2 sess. pp. 396, 695-8; _Senate Reports_, 34 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 195. [58] _House Journal_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. p. 64. There was still another attempt by Sandidge. Cf. _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-Slav. Soc._, p. 44. [59] _Senate Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. p. 274; _Congressional Globe_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1245. [60] Congressional Globe, 32 Cong. 2 sess. p. 1072. [61] I.e., since 1846: _Statutes at Large_, XI. 90. [62] _Ibid._, XI. 227. [63] _Ibid._, XI. 404. [64] _Ibid._, XII. 21. [65] E.g., Clay's resolutions: _Congressional Globe_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 304-9. Clayton's resolutions: _Senate Journal_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. p. 404; _House Journal_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1093, 1332-3; _Congressional Globe_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1591-3, 2139. Seward's bill: _Senate Journal_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 448, 451. [66] Mr. Blair of Missouri asked unanimous consent in Congress, Dec. 23, 1858, to a resolution instructing the Judiciary Committee to bring in such a bill; Houston of Alabama objected: _Congressional Globe_, 35 Cong. 2 sess. p. 198; _26th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, p. 44. [67] This was the object of attack in 1851 and 1853 by Giddings: _House Journal_, 32 Cong. 1 sess. p. 42; 33 Cong. 1 sess. p. 147. Cf. _House Journal_, 38 Cong. 1 sess. p. 46. [68] By Mr. Wilson, March 20, 1860: _Senate Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. p. 274. [69] Four or five such attempts were made: Dec. 12, 1860, _House Journal_, 36 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 61-2; Jan. 7, 1861, _Congressional Globe_, 36 Cong. 2 sess. p. 279; Jan. 23, 1861, _Ibid._, p. 527; Feb. 1, 1861, _Ibid._, p. 690; Feb. 27, 1861, _Ibid._, pp. 1243, 1259. [70] "The Slave-Trade in New York," in the _Continental Monthly_, January, 1862, p. 87. [71] New York _Herald_, July 14, 1856. [72] _Ibid._ Cf. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 53. [73] _27th Report of the Amer. Anti-slav. Soc._, pp. 25-6. Cf. _26th Report_, _Ibid._, pp. 45-9. [74] _27th Report_, _Ibid._, pp. 26-7. [75] _26th Report_, _Ibid._, p. 54. [76] _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1859-60, pp. 899, 973. [77] Nov. 29, 1851: _House Exec. Doc._, 32 Cong. 1 sess. II. pt. 2, No. 2, p. 4. [78] Dec. 4, 1852: _House Exec. Doc._, 32 Cong. 2 sess. I. pt. 2, No. 1, p. 293. [79] _Ibid._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. I. pt. 3, No. 1, p. 5. [80] _Ibid._, 34 Cong. 3 sess. I. pt. 2, No. 1, p. 407. [81] Commander Burgess to Commodore Wise, Whydah, Aug. 12, 1857: _Parliamentary Papers_, 1857-8, vol. LXI. _Slave Trade_, Class A, p. 136. [82] _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 1 sess. II. pt. 3, No. 2, p. 576. [83] _Ibid._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. II. pt. 1, No. 2, pp. 14-15, 31-33. [84] _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, p. 24. The Report of the Secretary of the Navy, 1859, contains this ambiguous passage: "What the effect of breaking up the trade will be upon the United States or Cuba it is not necessary to inquire; certainly, under the laws of Congress and our treaty obligations, it is the duty of the executive government to see that our citizens shall not be engaged in it": _Ibid._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 2, pp. 1138-9. [85] _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. III. pt. 1, No. 1, pp. 8-9. [86] _Statutes at Large_, XII. 40. [87] _Confederate States of America Statutes at Large_, 1861, p. 15, Constitution, Art. 1, sect. 9, §§ 1, 2. [88] From an intercepted circular despatch from J.P. Benjamin, "Secretary of State," addressed in this particular instance to Hon. L.Q.C. Lamar, "Commissioner, etc., St. Petersburg, Russia," and dated Richmond, Jan. 15, 1863; published in the _National Intelligencer_, March 31, 1863; cf. also the issues of Feb. 19, 1861, April 2, 3, 25, 1863; also published in the pamphlet, _The African Slave-Trade: The Secret Purpose_, etc. The editors vouch for its authenticity, and state it to be in Benjamin's own handwriting. [89] L.W. Spratt of South Carolina, in the _Southern Literary Messenger_, June, 1861, XXXII. 414, 420. Cf. also the Charleston _Mercury_, Feb. 13, 1861, and the _National Intelligencer_, Feb. 19, 1861. [90] Captain Gordon of the slaver "Erie;" condemned in the U.S. District Court for Southern New York in 1862. Cf. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, p. 13. [91] _Ibid._, pp. 453-4. [92] _Statutes at Large_, XII. 132, 219, 639; XIII. 424; XIV. 226, 415; XV. 58, 321. The sum of $250,000 was also appropriated to return the slaves on the "Wildfire": _Ibid._, XII. 40-41. [93] _Statutes at Large_, XII. 368-9. [94] _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 453-4. [95] _Statutes at Large_, XII. 531. [96] For a time not exceeding five years: _Ibid._, pp. 592-3. [97] By section 9 of an appropriation act for civil expenses, July 2, 1864: _Ibid._, XIII. 353. [98] British officers attested this: _Diplomatic Correspondence_, 1862, p. 285. [99] _Report of the Secretary of the Navy_, 1866; _House Exec. Doc._, 39 Cong. 2 sess. IV. p. 12. [100] There were some later attempts to legislate. Sumner tried to repeal the Act of 1803: _Congressional Globe_, 41 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 2894, 2932, 4953, 5594. Banks introduced a bill to prohibit Americans owning or dealing in slaves abroad: _House Journal_, 42 Cong. 2 sess. p. 48. For the legislation of the Confederate States, cf. Mason, _Veto Power_, 2d ed., Appendix C, No. 1. * * * * * _Chapter XII_ THE ESSENTIALS IN THE STRUGGLE. 92. How the Question Arose. 93. The Moral Movement. 94. The Political Movement. 95. The Economic Movement. 96. The Lesson for Americans. 92. ~How the Question Arose.~ We have followed a chapter of history which is of peculiar interest to the sociologist. Here was a rich new land, the wealth of which was to be had in return for ordinary manual labor. Had the country been conceived of as existing primarily for the benefit of its actual inhabitants, it might have waited for natural increase or immigration to supply the needed hands; but both Europe and the earlier colonists themselves regarded this land as existing chiefly for the benefit of Europe, and as designed to be exploited, as rapidly and ruthlessly as possible, of the boundless wealth of its resources. This was the primary excuse for the rise of the African slave-trade to America. Every experiment of such a kind, however, where the moral standard of a people is lowered for the sake of a material advantage, is dangerous in just such proportion as that advantage is great. In this case it was great. For at least a century, in the West Indies and the southern United States, agriculture flourished, trade increased, and English manufactures were nourished, in just such proportion as Americans stole Negroes and worked them to death. This advantage, to be sure, became much smaller in later times, and at one critical period was, at least in the Southern States, almost _nil_; but energetic efforts were wanting, and, before the nation was aware, slavery had seized a new and well-nigh immovable footing in the Cotton Kingdom. The colonists averred with perfect truth that they did not commence this fatal traffic, but that it was imposed upon them from without. Nevertheless, all too soon did they lay aside scruples against it and hasten to share its material benefits. Even those who braved the rough Atlantic for the highest moral motives fell early victims to the allurements of this system. Thus, throughout colonial history, in spite of many honest attempts to stop the further pursuit of the slave-trade, we notice back of nearly all such attempts a certain moral apathy, an indisposition to attack the evil with the sharp weapons which its nature demanded. Consequently, there developed steadily, irresistibly, a vast social problem, which required two centuries and a half for a nation of trained European stock and boasted moral fibre to solve. 93. ~The Moral Movement.~ For the solution of this problem there were, roughly speaking, three classes of efforts made during this time,--moral, political, and economic: that is to say, efforts which sought directly to raise the moral standard of the nation; efforts which sought to stop the trade by legal enactment; efforts which sought to neutralize the economic advantages of the slave-trade. There is always a certain glamour about the idea of a nation rising up to crush an evil simply because it is wrong. Unfortunately, this can seldom be realized in real life; for the very existence of the evil usually argues a moral weakness in the very place where extraordinary moral strength is called for. This was the case in the early history of the colonies; and experience proved that an appeal to moral rectitude was unheard in Carolina when rice had become a great crop, and in Massachusetts when the rum-slave-traffic was paying a profit of 100%. That the various abolition societies and anti-slavery movements did heroic work in rousing the national conscience is certainly true; unfortunately, however, these movements were weakest at the most critical times. When, in 1774 and 1804, the material advantages of the slave-trade and the institution of slavery were least, it seemed possible that moral suasion might accomplish the abolition of both. A fatal spirit of temporizing, however, seized the nation at these points; and although the slave-trade was, largely for political reasons, forbidden, slavery was left untouched. Beyond this point, as years rolled by, it was found well-nigh impossible to rouse the moral sense of the nation. Even in the matter of enforcing its own laws and co-operating with the civilized world, a lethargy seized the country, and it did not awake until slavery was about to destroy it. Even then, after a long and earnest crusade, the national sense of right did not rise to the entire abolition of slavery. It was only a peculiar and almost fortuitous commingling of moral, political, and economic motives that eventually crushed African slavery and its handmaid, the slave-trade in America. 94. ~The Political Movement.~ The political efforts to limit the slave-trade were the outcome partly of moral reprobation of the trade, partly of motives of expediency. This legislation was never such as wise and powerful rulers may make for a nation, with the ulterior purpose of calling in the respect which the nation has for law to aid in raising its standard of right. The colonial and national laws on the slave-trade merely registered, from time to time, the average public opinion concerning this traffic, and are therefore to be regarded as negative signs rather than as positive efforts. These signs were, from one point of view, evidences of moral awakening; they indicated slow, steady development of the idea that to steal even Negroes was wrong. From another point of view, these laws showed the fear of servile insurrection and the desire to ward off danger from the State; again, they often indicated a desire to appear well before the civilized world, and to rid the "land of the free" of the paradox of slavery. Representing such motives, the laws varied all the way from mere regulating acts to absolute prohibitions. On the whole, these acts were poorly conceived, loosely drawn, and wretchedly enforced. The systematic violation of the provisions of many of them led to a widespread belief that enforcement was, in the nature of the case, impossible; and thus, instead of marking ground already won, they were too often sources of distinct moral deterioration. Certainly the carnival of lawlessness that succeeded the Act of 1807, and that which preceded final suppression in 1861, were glaring examples of the failure of the efforts to suppress the slave-trade by mere law. 95. ~The Economic Movement.~ Economic measures against the trade were those which from the beginning had the best chance of success, but which were least tried. They included tariff measures; efforts to encourage the immigration of free laborers and the emigration of the slaves; measures for changing the character of Southern industry; and, finally, plans to restore the economic balance which slavery destroyed, by raising the condition of the slave to that of complete freedom and responsibility. Like the political efforts, these rested in part on a moral basis; and, as legal enactments, they were also themselves often political measures. They differed, however, from purely moral and political efforts, in having as a main motive the economic gain which a substitution of free for slave labor promised. The simplest form of such efforts was the revenue duty on slaves that existed in all the colonies. This developed into the prohibitive tariff, and into measures encouraging immigration or industrial improvements. The colonization movement was another form of these efforts; it was inadequately conceived, and not altogether sincere, but it had a sound, although in this case impracticable, economic basis. The one great measure which finally stopped the slave-trade forever was, naturally, the abolition of slavery, i.e., the giving to the Negro the right to sell his labor at a price consistent with his own welfare. The abolition of slavery itself, while due in part to direct moral appeal and political sagacity, was largely the result of the economic collapse of the large-farming slave system. 96. ~The Lesson for Americans.~ It may be doubted if ever before such political mistakes as the slavery compromises of the Constitutional Convention had such serious results, and yet, by a succession of unexpected accidents, still left a nation in position to work out its destiny. No American can study the connection of slavery with United States history, and not devoutly pray that his country may never have a similar social problem to solve, until it shows more capacity for such work than it has shown in the past. It is neither profitable nor in accordance with scientific truth to consider that whatever the constitutional fathers did was right, or that slavery was a plague sent from God and fated to be eliminated in due time. We must face the fact that this problem arose principally from the cupidity and carelessness of our ancestors. It was the plain duty of the colonies to crush the trade and the system in its infancy: they preferred to enrich themselves on its profits. It was the plain duty of a Revolution based upon "Liberty" to take steps toward the abolition of slavery: it preferred promises to straightforward action. It was the plain duty of the Constitutional Convention, in founding a new nation, to compromise with a threatening social evil only in case its settlement would thereby be postponed to a more favorable time: this was not the case in the slavery and the slave-trade compromises; there never was a time in the history of America when the system had a slighter economic, political, and moral justification than in 1787; and yet with this real, existent, growing evil before their eyes, a bargain largely of dollars and cents was allowed to open the highway that led straight to the Civil War. Moreover, it was due to no wisdom and foresight on the part of the fathers that fortuitous circumstances made the result of that war what it was, nor was it due to exceptional philanthropy on the part of their descendants that that result included the abolition of slavery. With the faith of the nation broken at the very outset, the system of slavery untouched, and twenty years' respite given to the slave-trade to feed and foster it, there began, with 1787, that system of bargaining, truckling, and compromising with a moral, political, and economic monstrosity, which makes the history of our dealing with slavery in the first half of the nineteenth century so discreditable to a great people. Each generation sought to shift its load upon the next, and the burden rolled on, until a generation came which was both too weak and too strong to bear it longer. One cannot, to be sure, demand of whole nations exceptional moral foresight and heroism; but a certain hard common-sense in facing the complicated phenomena of political life must be expected in every progressive people. In some respects we as a nation seem to lack this; we have the somewhat inchoate idea that we are not destined to be harassed with great social questions, and that even if we are, and fail to answer them, the fault is with the question and not with us. Consequently we often congratulate ourselves more on getting rid of a problem than on solving it. Such an attitude is dangerous; we have and shall have, as other peoples have had, critical, momentous, and pressing questions to answer. The riddle of the Sphinx may be postponed, it may be evasively answered now; sometime it must be fully answered. It behooves the United States, therefore, in the interest both of scientific truth and of future social reform, carefully to study such chapters of her history as that of the suppression of the slave-trade. The most obvious question which this study suggests is: How far in a State can a recognized moral wrong safely be compromised? And although this chapter of history can give us no definite answer suited to the ever-varying aspects of political life, yet it would seem to warn any nation from allowing, through carelessness and moral cowardice, any social evil to grow. No persons would have seen the Civil War with more surprise and horror than the Revolutionists of 1776; yet from the small and apparently dying institution of their day arose the walled and castled Slave-Power. From this we may conclude that it behooves nations as well as men to do things at the very moment when they ought to be done. * * * * * APPENDIX A. A CHRONOLOGICAL CONSPECTUS OF COLONIAL AND STATE LEGISLATION RESTRICTING THE AFRICAN SLAVE-TRADE. 1641-1787. ~1641. Massachusetts: Limitations on Slavery.~ "Liberties of Forreiners & Strangers": 91. "There shall never be any bond slaverie villinage or Captivitie amongst vs, unles it be lawfull Captives taken in iust warres, & such strangers as willingly selle themselves or are sold to us. And those shall have all the liberties & Christian usages w^{ch} y^e law of god established in Jsraell concerning such p/^{sons} doeth morally require. This exempts none from servitude who shall be Judged there to by Authoritie." "Capitall Laws": 10. "If any man stealeth aman or mankinde, he shall surely be put to death" (marginal reference, Exodus xxi. 16). Re-enacted in the codes of 1649, 1660, and 1672. Whitmore, _Reprint of Colonial Laws of 1660_, etc. (1889), pp. 52, 54, 71-117. ~1642, April 3. New Netherland: Ten per cent Duty.~ "Ordinance of the Director and Council of New Netherland, imposing certain Import and Export Duties." O'Callaghan, _Laws of New Netherland_ (1868), p. 31. ~1642, Dec. 1. Connecticut: Man-Stealing made a Capital Offence.~ "Capitall Lawes," No. 10. Re-enacted in Ludlow's code, 1650. _Colonial Records_, I. 77. ~1646, Nov. 4. Massachusetts: Declaration against Man-Stealing.~ Testimony of the General Court. For text, see above, page 37. _Colonial Records_, II. 168; III. 84. ~1652, April 4. New Netherland: Duty of 15 Guilders.~ "Conditions and Regulations" of Trade to Africa. O'Callaghan, _Laws of New Netherland_, pp. 81, 127. ~1652, May 18-20. Rhode Island: Perpetual Slavery Prohibited.~ For text, see above, page 40. _Colonial Records_, I. 243. ~1655, Aug. 6. New Netherland: Ten per cent Export Duty.~ "Ordinance of the Director General and Council of New Netherland, imposing a Duty on exported Negroes." O'Callaghan, _Laws of New Netherland_, p. 191. ~1664, March 12. Duke of York's Patent: Slavery Regulated.~ "Lawes establisht by the Authority of his Majesties Letters patents, granted to his Royall Highnes James Duke of Yorke and Albany; Bearing Date the 12th Day of March in the Sixteenth year of the Raigne of our Soveraigne Lord Kinge Charles the Second." First published at Long Island in 1664. "Bond slavery": "No Christian shall be kept in Bond-slavery villenage or Captivity, Except Such who shall be Judged thereunto by Authority, or such as willingly have sould, or shall sell themselves," etc. Apprenticeship allowed. _Charter to William Penn, and Laws of the Province of Pennsylvania_ (1879), pp. 3, 12. ~1672, October. Connecticut: Law against Man-Stealing.~ "The General Laws and Liberties of Conecticut "Capital Laws": 10. "If any Man stealeth a Man or Man kinde, and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall be put to death. Exod. 21. 16." _Laws of Connecticut_, 1672 (repr. 1865), p. 9. ~1676, March 3. West New Jersey: Slavery Prohibited (?).~ "The Concessions and Agreements of the Proprietors, Freeholders and Inhabitants of the Province of West New-Jersey, in America." Chap. XXIII. "That in all publick Courts of Justice for Tryals of Causes, Civil or Criminal, any Person or Persons, Inhabitants of the said Province, may freely come into, and attend the said Courts, ... that all and every Person and Persons Inhabiting the said Province, shall, as far as in us lies, be free from Oppression and Slavery." Leaming and Spicer, _Grants, Concessions_, etc., pp. 382, 398. ~1688, Feb. 18. Pennsylvania: First Protest of Friends against Slave-Trade.~ "At Monthly Meeting of Germantown Friends." For text, see above, pages 28-29. _Fac-simile Copy_ (1880). ~1695, May. Maryland: 10s. Duty Act.~ "An Act for the laying an Imposition upon Negroes, Slaves, and White Persons imported into this Province." Re-enacted in 1696, and included in Acts of 1699 and 1704. Bacon, _Laws_, 1695, ch. ix.; 1696, ch. vii.; 1699, ch. xxiii.; 1704, ch. ix. ~1696. Pennsylvania: Protest of Friends.~ "That Friends be careful not to encourage the bringing in of any more negroes." Bettle, _Notices of Negro Slavery_, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._ (1864), I. 383. ~1698, Oct. 8. South Carolina: White Servants Encouraged.~ "An Act for the Encouragement of the Importation of White Servants." "Whereas, the great number of negroes which of late have been imported into this Collony may endanger the safety thereof if speedy care be not taken and encouragement given for the importation of white servants." § 1. £13 are to be given to any ship master for every male white servant (Irish excepted), between sixteen and forty years, whom he shall bring into Ashley river; and £12 for boys between twelve and sixteen years. Every servant must have at least four years to serve, and every boy seven years. § 3. Planters are to take servants in proportion of one to every six male Negroes above sixteen years. § 5. Servants are to be distributed by lot. § 8. This act to continue three years. Cooper, _Statutes_, II. 153. ~1699, April. Virginia: 20s. Duty Act.~ "An act for laying an imposition upon servants and slaves imported into this country, towards building the Capitoll." For three years; continued in August, 1701, and April, 1704. Hening, _Statutes_, III. 193, 212, 225. ~1703, May 6. South Carolina: Duty Act.~ "An Act for the laying an Imposition on Furrs, Skinns, Liquors and other Goods and Merchandize, Imported into and Exported out of this part of this Province, for the raising of a Fund of Money towards defraying the publick charges and expenses of this Province, and paying the debts due for the Expedition against St. Augustine." 10_s._ on Africans and 20_s._ on others. Cooper, _Statutes_, II. 201. ~1704, October. Maryland: 20s. Duty Act.~ "An Act imposing Three Pence per Gallon on Rum and Wine, Brandy and Spirits; and Twenty Shillings per Poll for Negroes; for raising a Supply to defray the Public Charge of this Province; and Twenty Shillings per Poll on Irish Servants, to prevent the importing too great a Number of Irish Papists into this Province." Revived in 1708 and 1712. Bacon, _Laws_, 1704, ch. xxxiii.; 1708, ch. xvi.; 1712, ch. xxii. ~1705, Jan. 12. Pennsylvania: 10s. Duty Act. ~ "An Act for Raising a Supply of Two pence half penny per Pound & ten shillings per Head. Also for Granting an Impost & laying on Sundry Liquors & negroes Imported into this Province for the Support of Governmt., & defraying the necessary Publick Charges in the Administration thereof." _Colonial Records_ (1852), II. 232, No. 50. ~1705, October. Virginia: 6d. Tax on Imported Slaves.~ "An act for raising a publick revenue for the better support of the Government," etc. Similar tax by Act of October, 1710. Hening, _Statutes_, III. 344, 490. ~1705, October. Virginia: 20s. Duty Act.~ "An act for laying an Imposition upon Liquors and Slaves." For two years; re-enacted in October, 1710, for three years, and in October, 1712. _Ibid._, III. 229, 482; IV. 30. ~1705, Dec. 5. Massachusetts: £4 Duty Act.~ "An act for the Better Preventing of a Spurious and Mixt Issue," etc. § 6. On and after May 1, 1706, every master importing Negroes shall enter his number, name, and sex in the impost office, and insert them in the bill of lading; he shall pay to the commissioner and receiver of the impost £4 per head for every such Negro. Both master and ship are to be security for the payment of the same. § 7. If the master neglect to enter the slaves, he shall forfeit £8 for each Negro, one-half to go to the informer and one-half to the government. § 8. If any Negro imported shall, within twelve months, be exported and sold in any other plantation, and a receipt from the collector there be shown, a drawback of the whole duty will be allowed. Like drawback will be allowed a purchaser, if any Negro sold die within six weeks after importation. _Mass. Province Laws, 1705-6_, ch. 10. ~1708, February. Rhode Island: £3 Duty Act.~ No title or text found. Slightly amended by Act of April, 1708; strengthened by Acts of February, 1712, and July 5, 1715; proceeds disposed of by Acts of July, 1715, October, 1717, and June, 1729. _Colonial Records_, IV. 34, 131-5, 138, 143, 191-3, 225, 423-4. ~1709, Sept. 24. New York: £3 Duty Act.~ "An Act for Laying a Duty on the Tonnage of Vessels and Slaves." A duty of £3 was laid on slaves not imported directly from their native country. Continued by Act of Oct. 30, 1710. _Acts of Assembly, 1691-1718_, pp. 97, 125, 134; Laws of New York, 1691-1773, p. 83. ~1710, Dec. 28. Pennsylvania: 40s. Duty Act.~ "An impost Act, laying a duty on Negroes, wine, rum and other spirits, cyder and vessels." Repealed by order in Council Feb. 20, 1713. Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 82; Bettle, _Notices of Negro Slavery_, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._ (1864), I. 415. ~1710. Virginia: £5 Duty Act.~ "Intended to discourage the importation" of slaves. Title and text not found. Disallowed (?). _Governor Spotswood to the Lords of Trade_, in _Va. Hist. Soc. Coll._, New Series, I. 52. ~1711, July-Aug. New York: Act of 1709 Strengthened.~ "An Act for the more effectual putting in Execution an Act of General Assembly, Intituled, An Act for Laying a Duty on the Tonnage of Vessels and Slaves." _Acts of Assembly, 1691-1718_, p. 134. ~1711, December. New York: Bill to Increase Duty.~ Bill for laying a further duty on slaves. Passed Assembly; lost in Council. _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, V. 293. ~1711. Pennsylvania: Testimony of Quakers.~ " ... the Yearly Meeting of Philadelphia, on a representation from the Quarterly Meeting of Chester, that the buying and encouraging the importation of negroes was still practised by some of the members of the society, again repeated and enforced the observance of the advice issued in 1696, and further directed all merchants and factors to write to their correspondents and discourage their sending any more negroes." Bettle, _Notices of Negro Slavery_, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._ (1864), I. 386. ~1712, June 7. Pennsylvania: Prohibitive (?) Duty Act.~ "A supplementary Act to an act, entituled, An impost act, laying a duty on Negroes, rum," etc. Disallowed by Great Britain, 1713. Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 87, 88. Cf. _Colonial Records_ (1852), II. 553. ~1712, June 7. Pennsylvania: Prohibitive Duty Act.~ "An act to prevent the Importation of Negroes and Indians into this Province." "Whereas Divers Plots and Insurrections have frequently happened, not only in the Islands, but on the Main Land of _America_, by Negroes, which have been carried on so far that several of the Inhabitants have been thereby barbarously Murthered, an instance whereof we have lately had in our neighboring Colony of _New York_. And whereas the Importation of Indian Slaves hath given our Neighboring _Indians_ in this Province some umbrage of Suspicion and Dis-satisfaction. For Prevention of all which for the future, "_Be it Enacted_ ..., That from and after the Publication of this Act, upon the Importation of any Negro or Indian, by Land or Water, into this Province, there shall be paid by the Importer, Owner or Possessor thereof, the sum of _Twenty Pounds per head_, for every Negro or Indian so imported or brought in (except Negroes directly brought in from the _West India Islands_ before the first Day of the Month called _August_ next) unto the proper Officer herein after named, or that shall be appointed according to the Directions of this Act to receive the same," etc. Disallowed by Great Britain, 1713. _Laws of Pennsylvania, collected_, etc. (ed. 1714), p. 165; _Colonial Records_ (1852), II. 553; Burge, _Commentaries_, I. 737, note; _Penn. Archives_, I. 162. ~1713, March 11. New Jersey: £10 Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a Duty on Negro, Indian and Mulatto Slaves, imported and brought into this Province." "_Be it Enacted_ ..., That every Person or Persons that shall hereafter Import or bring in, or cause to be imported or brought into this Province, any Negro Indian or Mulatto Slave or Slaves, every such Person or Persons so importing or bringing in, or causing to be imported or brought in, such Slave or Slaves, shall enter with one of the Collectors of her Majestie's Customs of this Province, every such Slave or Slaves, within Twenty Four Hours after such Slave or Slaves is so Imported, and pay the Sum of _Ten Pounds_ Money as appointed by her Majesty's Proclamation, for each Slave so imported, or give sufficient Security that the said Sum of _Ten Pounds_, Money aforesaid, shall be well and truly paid within three Months after such Slave or Slaves are so imported, to the Collector or his Deputy of the District into which such Slave or Slaves shall be imported, for the use of her Majesty, her Heirs and Successors, toward the Support of the Government of this Province." For seven years; violations incur forfeiture and sale of slaves at auction; slaves brought from elsewhere than Africa to pay £10, etc. _Laws and Acts of New Jersey, 1703-1717_ (ed. 1717), p. 43; _N.J. Archives_, 1st Series, XIII. 516, 517, 520, 522, 523, 527, 532, 541. ~1713, March 26. Great Britain and Spain: The Assiento.~ "The Assiento, or Contract for allowing to the Subjects of Great Britain the Liberty of importing Negroes into the Spanish America. Signed by the Catholick King at Madrid, the 26th Day of March, 1713." Art. I. "First then to procure, by this means, a mutual and reciprocal advantage to the sovereigns and subjects of both crowns, her British majesty does offer and undertake for the persons, whom she shall name and appoint, That they shall oblige and charge themselves with the bringing into the West-Indies of America, belonging to his catholick majesty, in the space of the said 30 years, to commence on the 1st day of May, 1713, and determine on the like day, which will be in the year 1743, _viz._ 144000 negroes, _Piezas de India_, of both sexes, and of all ages, at the rate of 4800 negroes, _Piezas de India_, in each of the said 30 years, with this condition, That the persons who shall go to the West-Indies to take care of the concerns of the assiento, shall avoid giving any offence, for in such case they shall be prosecuted and punished in the same manner, as they would have been in Spain, if the like misdemeanors had been committed there." Art. II. Assientists to pay a duty of 33 pieces of eight (_Escudos_) for each Negro, which should include all duties. Art. III. Assientists to advance to his Catholic Majesty 200,000 pieces of eight, which should be returned at the end of the first twenty years, etc. John Almon, _Treaties of Peace, Alliance, and Commerce, between Great-Britain and other Powers_ (London, 1772), I. 83-107. ~1713, July 13. Great Britain and Spain: Treaty of Utrecht.~ "Treaty of Peace and Friendship between the most serene and most potent princess Anne, by the grace of God, Queen of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c. and the most serene and most potent Prince Philip V the Catholick King of Spain, concluded at Utrecht, the 2/13 Day of July, 1713." Art. XII. "The Catholick King doth furthermore hereby give and grant to her Britannick majesty, and to the company of her subjects appointed for that purpose, as well the subjects of Spain, as all others, being excluded, the contract for introducing negroes into several parts of the dominions of his Catholick Majesty in America, commonly called _el Pacto de el Assiento de Negros_, for the space of thirty years successively, beginning from the first day of the month of May, in the year 1713, with the same conditions on which the French enjoyed it, or at any time might or ought to enjoy the same, together with a tract or tracts of Land to be allotted by the said Catholick King, and to be granted to the company aforesaid, commonly called _la Compania de el Assiento_, in some convenient place on the river of Plata, (no duties or revenues being payable by the said company on that account, during the time of the abovementioned contract, and no longer) and this settlement of the said society, or those tracts of land, shall be proper and sufficient for planting, and sowing, and for feeding cattle for the subsistence of those who are in the service of the said company, and of their negroes; and that the said negroes may be there kept in safety till they are sold; and moreover, that the ships belonging to the said company may come close to land, and be secure from any danger. But it shall always be lawful for the Catholick King, to appoint an officer in the said place or settlement, who may take care that nothing be done or practised contrary to his royal interests. And all who manage the affairs of the said company there, or belong to it, shall be subject to the inspection of the aforesaid officer, as to all matters relating to the tracts of land abovementioned. But if any doubts, difficulties, or controversies, should arise between the said officer and the managers for the said company, they shall be referred to the determination of the governor of Buenos Ayres. The Catholick King has been likewise pleased to grant to the said company, several other extraordinary advantages, which are more fully and amply explained in the contract of the Assiento, which was made and concluded at Madrid, the 26th day of the month of March, of this present year 1713. Which contract, or _Assiento de Negros_, and all the clauses, conditions, privileges and immunities contained therein, and which are not contrary to this article, are and shall be deemed, and taken to be, part of this treaty, in the same manner as if they had been here inserted word for word." John Almon, _Treaties of Peace, Alliance, and Commerce, between Great-Britain and other Powers_, I. 168-80. ~1714, Feb. 18. South Carolina: Duty on American Slaves.~ "An Act for laying an additional duty on all Negro Slaves imported into this Province from any part of America." Title quoted in Act of 1719, §30, _q.v._ ~1714, Dec. 18. South Carolina: Prohibitive Duty.~ "An additional Act to an Act entitled 'An Act for the better Ordering and Governing Negroes and all other Slaves.'" §9 "And _whereas_, the number of negroes do extremely increase in this Province, and through the afflicting providence of God, the white persons do not proportionally multiply, by reason whereof, the safety of the said Province is greatly endangered; for the prevention of which for the future, "_Be it further enacted_ by the authority aforesaid, That all negro slaves from twelve years old and upwards, imported into this part of this Province from any part of Africa, shall pay such additional duties as is hereafter named, that is to say:--that every merchant or other person whatsoever, who shall, six months after the ratification of this Act, import any negro slaves as aforesaid, shall, for every such slave, pay unto the public receiver for the time being, (within thirty days after such importation,) the sum of two pounds current money of this Province." Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 365. ~1715, Feb. 18. South Carolina: Duty on American Negroes.~ "_An additional Act_ to an act entitled _an act for raising the sum of £2000, of and from the estates real and personal of the inhabitants of this Province, ratified in open Assembly the 18th day of December, 1714_; and for laying an additional duty on all Negroe slaves imported into this Province from any part of America." Title only given. Grimké, _Public Laws_, p. xvi, No. 362. ~1715, May 28. Pennsylvania: £5 Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a Duty on _Negroes_ imported into this province." Disallowed by Great Britain, 1719. _Acts and Laws of Pennsylvania, 1715_, p. 270; _Colonial Records_ (1852), III. 75-6; Chalmers, _Opinions_, II. 118. ~1715, June 3. Maryland: 20s. Duty Act.~ "An Act laying an Imposition on Negroes ...; and also on Irish Servants, to prevent the importing too great a Number of Irish Papists into this Province." Supplemented April 23, 1735, and July 25, 1754. _Compleat Collection of the Laws of Maryland_ (ed. 1727), p. 157; Bacon, _Laws_, 1715, ch. xxxvi. §8; 1735, ch. vi. §§1-3; _Acts of Assembly, 1754_, p. 10. ~1716, June 30. South Carolina: £3 Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying an Imposition on Liquors, Goods and Merchandizes, Imported into and Exported out of this Province, for the raising of a Fund of Money towards the defraying the publick charges and expences of the Government." A duty of £3 was laid on African slaves, and £30 on American slaves. Cooper, _Statutes_, II. 649. ~1716. New York: 5 oz. and 10 oz. plate Duty Act.~ "An Act to Oblige all Vessels Trading into this Colony (except such as are therein excepted) to pay a certain Duty; and for the further Explanation and rendring more Effectual certain Clauses in an Act of General Assembly of this Colony, Intituled, An Act by which a Duty is laid on Negroes, and other Slaves, imported into this Colony." The act referred to is not to be found. _Acts of Assembly, 1691-1718_, p. 224. ~1717, June 8. Maryland: Additional 20s. Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying an Additional Duty of Twenty Shillings Current Money per Poll on all Irish Servants, ... also, the Additional Duty of Twenty Shillings Current Money per Poll on all Negroes, for raising a Fund for the Use of Publick Schools," etc. Continued by Act of 1728. _Compleat Collection of the Laws of Maryland_ (ed. 1727), p. 191; Bacon, _Laws_, 1728, ch. viii. ~1717, Dec. 11. South Carolina: Prohibitive Duty.~ "A further additional Act to an Act entitled An Act for the better ordering and governing of Negroes and all other Slaves; and to an additional Act to an Act entitled An Act for the better ordering and governing of Negroes and all other Slaves." § 3. "And _whereas_, the great importation of negroes to this Province, in proportion to the white inhabitants of the same, whereby the future safety of this Province will be greatly endangered; for the prevention whereof, "_Be it enacted_ by the authority aforesaid, That all negro slaves of any age or condition whatsoever, imported or otherwise brought into this Province, from any part of the world, shall pay such additional duties as is hereafter named, that is to say:--that every merchant or other person whatsoever, who shall, eighteen months after the ratification of this Act, import any negro slave as aforesaid, shall, for every such slave, pay unto the public receiver for the time being, at the time of each importation, over and above all the duties already charged on negroes, by any law in force in this Province, the additional sum of forty pounds current money of this Province," etc. § 4. This section on duties to be in force for four years after ratification, and thence to the end of the next session of the General Assembly. Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 368. ~1718, Feb. 22. Pennsylvania: Duty Act.~ "An Act for continuing a duty on Negroes brought into this province." Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 118. ~1719, March 20. South Carolina: £10 Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying an Imposition on Negroes, Liquors, and other Goods and Merchandizes, imported, and exported out of this Province, for the raising of a Fund of Money towards the defraying the Publick Charges and Expences of this Government; as also to Repeal several Duty Acts, and Clauses and Paragraphs of Acts, as is herein mentioned." This repeals former duty acts (e.g. that of 1714), and lays a duty of £10 on African slaves, and £30 on American slaves. Cooper, _Statutes_, III. 56. ~1721, Sept. 21. South Carolina: £10 Duty Act.~ "An Act for granting to His Majesty a Duty and Imposition on Negroes, Liquors, and other Goods and Merchandize, imported into and exported out of this Province." This was a continuation of the Act of 1719. _Ibid._, III. 159. ~1722, Feb. 23. South Carolina: £10 Duty Act.~ "An Act for Granting to His Majesty a Duty and Imposition on Negroes, Liquors, and other Goods and Merchandizes, for the use of the Publick of this Province." § 1. " ... on all negro slaves imported from Africa directly, or any other place whatsoever, Spanish negroes excepted, if above ten years of age, ten pounds; on all negroes under ten years of age, (sucking children excepted) five pounds," etc. § 3. "And whereas, it has proved to the detriment of some of the inhabitants of this Province, who have purchased negroes imported here from the Colonies of America, that they were either transported thence by the Courts of justice, or sent off by private persons for their ill behaviour and misdemeanours, to prevent which for the future, "_Be it enacted_ by the authority aforesaid, That all negroes imported in this Province from any part of America, after the ratification of this Act, above ten years of age, shall pay unto the Publick Receiver as a duty, the sum of fifty pounds, and all such negroes under the age of ten years, (sucking children excepted) the sum of five pounds of like current money, unless the owner or agent shall produce a testimonial under the hand and seal of any Notary Publick of the Colonies or plantations from whence such negroes came last, before whom it was proved upon oath, that the same are new negroes, and have not been six months on shoar in any part of America," etc. § 4. "And whereas, the importation of Spanish Indians, mustees, negroes, and mulattoes, may be of dangerous consequence by inticing the slaves belonging to the inhabitants of this Province to desert with them to the Spanish settlements near us, "_Be it therefore enacted_ That all such Spanish negroes, Indians, mustees, or mulattoes, so imported into this Province, shall pay unto the Publick Receiver, for the use of this Province, a duty of one hundred and fifty pounds, current money of this Province." § 19. Rebate of three-fourths of the duty allowed in case of re-exportation in six months. § 31. Act of 1721 repealed. § 36. This act to continue in force for three years, and thence to the end of the next session of the General Assembly, and no longer. Cooper, _Statutes_, III. 193. ~1722, May 12. Pennsylvania: Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a duty on Negroes imported into this province." Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 165. ~1723, May. Virginia: Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a Duty on Liquors and Slaves." Title only; repealed by proclamation Oct. 27, 1724. Hening, _Statutes_, IV. 118. ~1723, June 18. Rhode Island: Back Duties Collected.~ Resolve appointing the attorney-general to collect back duties on Negroes. _Colonial Records_, IV. 330. ~1726, March 5. Pennsylvania: £10 Duty Act.~ "An Act for the better regulating of Negroes in this province." Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 214; Bettle, _Notices of Negro Slavery_, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._ (1864), I. 388. ~1726, March 5. Pennsylvania: Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a duty on Negroes imported into this province." Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 213. ~1727, February. Virginia: Prohibitive Duty Act (?).~ "An Act for laying a Duty on Slaves imported; and for appointing a Treasurer." Title only found; the duty was probably prohibitive; it was enacted with a suspending clause, and was not assented to by the king. Hening, _Statutes_, IV. 182. ~1728, Aug. 31. New York: £2 and £4 Duty Act.~ "An Act to repeal some Parts and to continue and enforce other Parts of the Act therein mentioned, and for granting several Duties to His Majesty, for supporting His Government in the Colony of New York" from Sept. 1, 1728, to Sept. 1, 1733. Same duty continued by Act of 1732. _Laws of New York, 1691-1773_, pp. 148, 171; _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VI. 32, 33, 34, 37, 38. ~1728, Sept. 14. Massachusetts: Act of 1705 Strengthened.~ "An Act more effectually to secure the Duty on the Importation of Negroes." For seven years; substantially the same law re-enacted Jan. 26, 1738, for ten years. _Mass. Province Laws, 1728-9_, ch. 16; _1738-9_, ch. 27. ~1729, May 10. Pennsylvania: 40s. Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a Duty on Negroes imported into this Province." _Laws of Pennsylvania_ (ed. 1742), p. 354, ch. 287. ~1732, May. Rhode Island: Repeal of Act of 1712.~ "Whereas, there was an act made and passed by the General Assembly, at their session, held at Newport, the 27th day of February, 1711 [O.S., N.S. = 1712], entitled 'An Act for laying a duty on negro slaves that shall be imported into this colony,' and this Assembly being directed by His Majesty's instructions to repeal the same;-- "Therefore, be it enacted by the General Assembly ... that the said act ... be, and it is hereby repealed, made null and void, and of none effect for the future." If this is the act mentioned under Act of 1708, the title is wrongly cited; if not, the act is lost. _Colonial Records_, IV. 471. ~1732, May. Virginia: Five per cent Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a Duty upon Slaves, to be paid by the Buyers." For four years; continued and slightly amended by Acts of 1734, 1736, 1738, 1742, and 1745; revived February, 1752, and continued by Acts of November, 1753, February, 1759, November, 1766, and 1769; revived (or continued?) by Act of February, 1772, until 1778. Hening, _Statutes_, IV. 317, 394, 469; V. 28, 160, 318; VI. 217, 353; VII. 281; VIII. 190, 336, 530. ~1734, November. New York: Duty Act.~ "An act to lay a duty on Negroes & a tax on the Slaves therein mentioned during the time and for the uses within mentioned." The tax was 1_s._ yearly per slave. _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VI. 38. ~1734, Nov. 28. New York: £2 and £4 (?) Duty Act.~ "An Act to lay a Duty on the Goods, and a Tax on the Slaves therein mentioned, during the Time, and for the Uses mentioned in the same." Possibly there were two acts this year. _Laws of New York, 1691-1773_, p. 186; _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VI. 27. ~1735. Georgia: Prohibitive Act.~ An "act for rendering the colony of Georgia more defensible by prohibiting the importation and use of black slaves or negroes into the same." W.B. Stevens, _History of Georgia_, I. 311; [B. Martyn], _Account of the Progress of Georgia_ (1741), pp. 9-10; Prince Hoare, _Memoirs of Granville Sharp_ (London, 1820), p. 157. ~1740, April 5. South Carolina: £100 Prohibitive Duty Act.~ "An Act for the better strengthening of this Province, by granting to His Majesty certain taxes and impositions on the purchasers of Negroes imported," etc. The duty on slaves from America was £150. Continued to 1744. Cooper, _Statutes_, III. 556. Cf. _Abstract Evidence on Slave-Trade before Committee of House of Commons, 1790-91_ (London, 1791), p. 150. ~1740, May. Virginia: Additional Five per cent Duty Act.~ "An Act, for laying an additional Duty upon Slaves, to be paid by the Buyer, for encouraging persons to enlist in his Majesty's service: And for preventing desertion." To continue until July 1, 1744. Hening, _Statutes_, V. 92. ~1751, June 14. South Carolina: White Servants Encouraged.~ "An Act for the better strengthening of this Province, by granting to His Majesty certain Taxes and Impositions on the purchasers of Negroes and other slaves imported, and for appropriating the same to the uses therein mentioned, and for granting to His Majesty a duty on Liquors and other Goods and Merchandize, for the uses therein mentioned, and for exempting the purchasers of Negroes and other slaves imported from payment of the Tax, and the Liquors and other Goods and Merchandize from the duties imposed by any former Act or Acts of the General Assembly of this Province." "Whereas, the best way to prevent the mischiefs that may be attended by the great importation of negroes into this Province, will be to establish a method by which such importation should be made a necessary means of introducing a proportionable number of white inhabitants into the same; therefore for the effectual raising and appropriating a fund sufficient for the better settling of this Province with white inhabitants, we, his Majesty's most dutiful and loyal subjects, the House of Assembly now met in General Assembly, do cheerfully give and grant unto the King's most excellent Majesty, his heirs and successors, the several taxes and impositions hereinafter mentioned, for the uses and to be raised, appropriated, paid and applied as is hereinafter directed and appointed, and not otherwise, and do humbly pray his most sacred Majesty that it may be enacted, § 1. "_And be it enacted_, by his Excellency James Glen, Esquire, Governor in chief and Captain General in and over the Province of South Carolina, by and with the advice and consent of his Majesty's honorable Council, and the House of Assembly of the said Province, and by the authority of the same, That from and immediately after the passing of this Act, there shall be imposed on and paid by all and every the inhabitants of this Province, and other person and persons whosoever, first purchasing any negro or other slave, hereafter to be imported, a certain tax or sum of ten pounds current money for every such negro and other slave of the height of four feet two inches and upwards; and for every one under that height, and above three feet two inches, the sum of five pounds like money; and for all under three feet two inches, (sucking children excepted) two pounds and ten shillings like money, which every such inhabitant of this Province, and other person and persons whosoever shall so purchase or buy as aforesaid, which said sums of ten pounds and five pounds and two pounds and ten shillings respectively, shall be paid by such purchaser for every such slave, at the time of his, her or their purchasing of the same, to the public treasurer of this Province for the time being, for the uses hereinafter mentioned, set down and appointed, under pain of forfeiting all and every such negroes and slaves, for which the said taxes or impositions shall not be paid, pursuant to the directions of this Act, to be sued for, recovered and applied in the manner hereinafter directed." § 6. "_And be it further enacted_ by the authority aforesaid, That the said tax hereby imposed on negroes and other slaves, paid or to be paid by or on the behalf of the purchasers as aforesaid, by virtue of this Act, shall be applied and appropriated as followeth, and to no other use, or in any other manner whatever, (that is to say) that three-fifth parts (the whole into five equal parts to be divided) of the net sum arising by the said tax, for and during the term of five years from the time of passing this Act, be applied and the same is hereby applied for payment of the sum of six pounds proclamation money to every poor foreign protestant whatever from Europe, or other poor protestant (his Majesty's subject) who shall produce a certificate under the seal of any corporation, or a certificate under the hands of the minister and church-wardens of any parish, or the minister and elders of any church, meeting or congregation in Great Britain or Ireland, of the good character of such poor protestant, above the age of twelve and under the age of fifty years, and for payment of the sum of three pounds like money, to every such poor protestant under the age of twelve and above the age of two years; who shall come into this Province within the first three years of the said term of five years, and settle on any part of the southern frontier lying between Pon Pon and Savannah rivers, or in the central parts of this Province," etc. For the last two years the bounty is £4 and £2. § 7. After the expiration of this term of five years, the sum is appropriated to the protestants settling anywhere in the State, and the bounty is £2 13_s._ 4_d._, and £1 6_s._ 8_d._ § 8. One other fifth of the tax is appropriated to survey lands, and the remaining fifth as a bounty for ship-building, and for encouraging the settlement of ship-builders. § 14. Rebate of three-fourths of the tax allowed in case of re-exportation of the slaves in six months. § 16. "_And be it further enacted_ by the authority aforesaid, That every person or persons who after the passing this Act shall purchase any slave or slaves which shall be brought or imported into this Province, either by land or water, from any of his Majesty's plantations or colonies in America, that have been in any such colony or plantation for the space of six months; and if such slave or slaves have not been so long in such colony or plantation, the importer shall be obliged to make oath or produce a proper certificate thereof, or otherwise every such importer shall pay a further tax or imposition of fifty pounds, over and besides the tax hereby imposed for every such slave which he or they shall purchase as aforesaid." Actual settlers bringing slaves are excepted. § 41. This act to continue in force ten years from its passage, and thence to the end of the next session of the General Assembly, and no longer. Cooper, _Statutes_, III. 739. ~1753, Dec. 12. New York: 5 oz. and 10 oz. plate Duty Act.~ "An Act for granting to His Majesty the several Duties and Impositions, on Goods, Wares and Merchandizes imported into this Colony, therein mentioned." Annually continued until 1767, or perhaps until 1774. _Laws of New York, 1752-62_, p. 21, ch. xxvii.; _Doc. rel. Col. Hist. New York_, VII. 907; VIII. 452. ~1754, February. Virginia: Additional Five per cent Duty Act.~ "An Act for the encouragement and protection of the settlers upon the waters of the Mississippi." For three years; continued in 1755 and 1763; revived in 1772, and continued until 1778. Hening, _Statutes_, VI. 417, 468; VII. 639; VIII. 530. ~1754, July 25. Maryland: Additional 10s. Duty Act.~ "An Act for his Majesty's Service." Bacon, _Laws_, 1754, ch. ix. ~1755, May. Virginia: Additional Ten per cent Duty Act.~ "An act to explain an act, intituled, An act for raising the sum of twenty thousand pounds, for the protection of his majesty's subjects, against the insults and encroachments of the French; and for other purposes therein mentioned." § 10. " ... from and after the passing of this act, there shall be levied and paid to our sovereign lord the king, his heirs and successors, for all slaves imported, or brought into this colony and dominion for sale, either by land or water, from any part [port] or place whatsoever, by the buyer, or purchaser, after the rate of ten per centum, on the amount of each respective purchase, over and above the several duties already laid on slaves, imported as aforesaid, by an act or acts of Assembly, now subsisting, and also over and above the duty laid by" the Act of 1754. Repealed by Act of May, 1760, § 11, " ... inasmuch as the same prevents the importation of slaves, and thereby lessens the fund arising from the duties upon slaves." Hening, _Statutes_, VI. 461; VII. 363. Cf. _Dinwiddie Papers_, II. 86. ~1756, March 22. Maryland: Additional 20s. Duty Act.~ "An Act for granting a Supply of Forty Thousand Pounds, for his Majesty's Service," etc. For five years. Bacon, _Laws_, 1756, ch. v. ~1757, April. Virginia: Additional Ten per cent Duty Act.~ "An Act for granting an aid to his majesty for the better protection of this colony, and for other purposes therein mentioned." § 22. " ... from and after the ninth day of July, one thousand seven hundred and fifty-eight, during the term of seven years, there shall be paid for all slaves imported into this colony, for sale, either by land or water, from any port or place whatsoever, by the buyer or purchaser thereof, after the rate of ten per centum on the amount of each respective purchase, over and above the several duties already laid upon slaves imported, as aforesaid, by any act or acts of Assembly now subsisting in this colony," etc. Repealed by Act of March, 1761, § 6, as being "found very inconvenient." Hening, _Statutes_, VII. 69, 383. ~1759, November. Virginia: Twenty per cent Duty Act.~ "An Act to oblige the persons bringing slaves into this colony from Maryland, Carolina, and the West-Indies, for their own use, to pay a duty." § 1. " ... from and after the passing of this act, there shall be paid ... for all slaves imported or brought into this colony and dominion from Maryland, North-Carolina, or any other place in America, by the owner or importer thereof, after the rate of twenty per centum on the amount of each respective purchase," etc. This act to continue until April 20, 1767; continued in 1766 and 1769, until 1773; altered by Act of 1772, _q.v. Ibid._, VII. 338; VIII. 191, 336. ~1760. South Carolina: Total Prohibition.~ Text not found; act disallowed by Great Britain. Cf. Burge, _Commentaries_, I. 737, note; W.B. Stevens, _History of Georgia_, I. 286. ~1761, March 14. Pennsylvania: £10 Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a duty on Negroes and Mulattoe slaves, imported into this province." Continued in 1768; repealed (or disallowed) in 1780. Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 371, 451; _Acts of Assembly_ (ed. 1782), p. 149; _Colonial Records_ (1852), VIII. 576. ~1761, April 22. Pennsylvania: Prohibitive Duty Act.~ "A Supplement to an act, entituled An Act for laying a duty on Negroes and Mulattoe slaves, imported into this province." Continued in 1768. Carey and Bioren, _Laws_, I. 371, 451; Bettle, _Notices of Negro Slavery_, in _Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem._ (1864), I. 388-9. ~1763, Nov. 26. Maryland: Additional £2 Duty Act.~ "An Act for imposing an additional Duty of Two Pounds per Poll on all Negroes Imported into this Province." § 1. All persons importing Negroes by land or water into this province, shall at the time of entry pay to the naval officer the sum of two pounds, current money, over and above the duties now payable by law, for every Negro so imported or brought in, on forfeiture of £10 current money for every Negro so brought in and not paid for. One half of the penalty is to go to the informer, the other half to the use of the county schools. The duty shall be collected, accounted for, and paid by the naval officers, in the same manner as former duties on Negroes. § 2. But persons removing from any other of his Majesty's dominions in order to settle and reside within this province, may import their slaves for carrying on their proper occupations at the time of removal, duty free. § 3. Importers of Negroes, exporting the same within two months of the time of their importation, on application to the naval officer shall be paid the aforesaid duty. Bacon, _Laws_, 1763, ch. xxviii. ~1763 (circa). New Jersey: Prohibitive Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a duty on Negroes and Mulatto Slaves Imported into this Province." Disallowed (?) by Great Britain. _N.J. Archives_, IX. 345-6, 383, 447, 458. ~1764, Aug. 25. South Carolina: Additional £100 Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying an additional duty upon all Negroes hereafter to be imported into this Province, for the time therein mentioned, to be paid by the first purchasers of such Negroes." Cooper, _Statutes_, IV 187. ~1766, November. Virginia: Proposed Duty Act.~ "An act for laying an additional duty upon slaves imported into this colony." § 1. " ... from and after the passing of this act there shall be levied and paid ... for all slaves imported or brought into this colony for sale, either by land or water from any port or place whatsoever, by the buyer or purchaser, after the rate of ten per centum on the amount of each respective purchase over and above the several duties already laid upon slaves imported or brought into this colony as aforesaid," etc. To be suspended until the king's consent is given, and then to continue seven years. The same act was passed again in 1769. Hening, _Statutes_, VIII. 237, 337. ~1766. Rhode Island: Restrictive Measure (?).~ Title and text not found. Cf. _Digest_ of 1798, under "Slave Trade;" _Public Laws of Rhode Island_ (revision of 1822), p. 441. ~1768, Feb. 20. Pennsylvania: Re-enactment of Acts of 1761.~ Titles only found. Dallas, _Laws_, I. 490; _Colonial Records_ (1852), IX. 472, 637, 641. ~1769, Nov. 16. New Jersey: £15 Duty Act.~ "An Act for laying a Duty on the Purchasers of Slaves imported into this Colony." "Whereas Duties on the Importation of Negroes in several of the neighbouring Colonies hath, on Experience, been found beneficial in the Introduction of sober, industrious Foreigners, to settle under His Majesty's Allegiance, and the promoting a Spirit of Industry among the Inhabitants in general: _In order therefore_ to promote the same good Designs in this Government, and that such as choose to purchase Slaves may contribute some equitable Proportion of the publick Burdens," etc. A duty of "_Fifteen Pounds_, Proclamation Money, is laid." _Acts of Assembly_ (Allinson, 1776), p. 315. ~1769 (circa). Connecticut: Importation Prohibited (?).~ Title and text not found. "Whereas, the increase of slaves is injurious to the poor, and inconvenient, therefore," etc. Fowler, _Historical Status of the Negro in Connecticut_, in _Local Law_, etc., p. 125. ~1770. Rhode Island: Bill to Prohibit Importation.~ Bill to prohibit importation of slaves fails. Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_ (1859), II. 304, 321, 337. ~1771, April 12. Massachusetts: Bill to Prevent Importation.~ Bill passes both houses and fails of Governor Hutchinson's assent. _House Journal_, pp. 211, 215, 219, 228, 234, 236, 240, 242-3. ~1771. Maryland: Additional £5 Duty Act.~ "An Act for imposing a further additional duty of five pounds current money per poll on all negroes imported into this province." For seven years. _Laws of Maryland since 1763_: 1771, ch. vii.; cf. 1773, sess. Nov.-Dec., ch. xiv. ~1772, April 1. Virginia: Address to the King.~ " ... The importation of slaves into the colonies from the coast of Africa hath long been considered as a trade of great inhumanity, and under its _present encouragement_, we have too much reason to fear _will endanger the very existence_ of your majesty's American dominions.... "Deeply impressed with these sentiments, we most humbly beseech your majesty to _remove all those restraints_ on your majesty's governors of this colony, _which inhibit their assenting to such laws as might check so very pernicious a commerce_." _Journals of the House of Burgesses_, p. 131; quoted in Tucker, _Dissertation on Slavery_ (repr. 1861), p. 43. ~1773, Feb. 26. Pennsylvania: Additional £10 Duty Act.~ "An Act for making perpetual the act ... [of 1761] ... and laying an additional duty on the said slaves." Dallas, _Laws_, I. 671; _Acts of Assembly_ (ed. 1782), p. 149. ~1774, March, June. Massachusetts: Bills to Prohibit Importation.~ Two bills designed to prohibit the importation of slaves fail of the governor's assent. First bill: _General Court Records_, XXX. 248, 264; _Mass. Archives, Domestic Relations, 1643-1774_, IX. 457. Second bill: _General Court Records_, XXX. 308, 322. ~1774, June. Rhode Island: Importation Restricted.~ "An Act prohibiting the importation of Negroes into this Colony." "Whereas, the inhabitants of America are generally engaged in the preservation of their own rights and liberties, among which, that of personal freedom must be considered as the greatest; as those who are desirous of enjoying all the advantages of liberty themselves, should be willing to extend personal liberty to others;-- "Therefore, be it enacted ... that for the future, no negro or mulatto slave shall be brought into this colony; and in case any slave shall hereafter be brought in, he or she shall be, and are hereby, rendered immediately free, so far as respects personal freedom, and the enjoyment of private property, in the same manner as the native Indians." "Provided that the slaves of settlers and travellers be excepted. "Provided, also, that nothing in this act shall extend, or be deemed to extend, to any negro or mulatto slave brought from the coast of Africa, into the West Indies, on board any vessel belonging to this colony, and which negro or mulatto slave could not be disposed of in the West Indies, but shall be brought into this colony. "Provided, that the owner of such negro or mulatto slave give bond to the general treasurer of the said colony, within ten days after such arrival in the sum of £100, lawful money, for each and every such negro or mulatto slave so brought in, that such negro or mulatto slave shall be exported out of the colony, within one year from the date of such bond; if such negro or mulatto be alive, and in a condition to be removed." "Provided, also, that nothing in this act shall extend, or be deemed to extend, to any negro or mulatto slave that may be on board any vessel belonging to this colony, now at sea, in her present voyage." Heavy penalties are laid for bringing in Negroes in order to free them. _Colonial Records_, VII. 251-3. [1784, February: "It is voted and resolved, that the whole of the clause contained in an act of this Assembly, passed at June session, A.D. 1774, permitting slaves brought from the coast of Africa into the West Indies, on board any vessel belonging to this (then colony, now) state, and who could not be disposed of in the West Indies, &c., be, and the same is, hereby repealed." _Colonial Records_, X. 8.] ~1774, October. Connecticut: Importation Prohibited.~ "An Act for prohibiting the Importation of Indian, Negro or Molatto Slaves." " ... no indian, negro or molatto Slave shall at any time hereafter be brought or imported into this Colony, by sea or land, from any place or places whatsoever, to be disposed of, left or sold within this Colony." This was re-enacted in the revision of 1784, and slaves born after 1784 were ordered to be emancipated at the age of twenty-five. _Colonial Records_, XIV. 329; _Acts and Laws of Connecticut_ (ed. 1784), pp. 233-4. ~1774. New Jersey: Proposed Prohibitive Duty.~ "A Bill for laying a Duty on Indian, Negroe and Molatto Slaves, imported into this Colony." Passed the Assembly, and was rejected by the Council as "plainly" intending "an intire Prohibition," etc. _N.J. Archives_, 1st Series, VI. 222. ~1775, March 27. Delaware: Bill to Prohibit Importation.~ Passed the Assembly and was vetoed by the governor. Force, _American Archives_, 4th Series, II. 128-9. ~1775, Nov. 23. Virginia: On Lord Dunmore's Proclamation.~ Williamsburg Convention to the public: "Our Assemblies have repeatedly passed acts, laying heavy duties upon imported Negroes, by which they meant altogether to prevent the horrid traffick; but their humane intentions have been as often frustrated by the cruelty and covetousness of a set of _English_ merchants." ... The Americans would, if possible, "not only prevent any more Negroes from losing their freedom, but restore it to such as have already unhappily lost it." This is evidently addressed in part to Negroes, to keep them from joining the British. _Ibid._, III. 1387. ~1776, June 29. Virginia: Preamble to Frame of Government.~ Blame for the slave-trade thrown on the king. See above, page 21. Hening, _Statutes_, IX. 112-3. ~1776, Aug.-Sept. Delaware: Constitution.~ "The Constitution or system of Government agreed to and resolved upon by the Representatives in full Convention of the Delaware State," etc. § 26. "No person hereafter imported into this State from _Africa_ ought to be held in slavery on any pretence whatever; and no Negro, Indian, or Mulatto slave ought to be brought into this State, for sale, from any part of the world." Force, _American Archives_, 5th Series, I. 1174-9. ~1777, July 2. Vermont: Slavery Condemned.~ The first Constitution declares slavery a violation of "natural, inherent and unalienable rights." _Vermont State Papers, 1779-86_, p. 244. ~1777. Maryland: Negro Duty Maintained.~ "An Act concerning duties." " ... no duties imposed by act of assembly on any article or thing imported into or exported out of this state (except duties imposed on the importation of negroes), shall be taken or received within two years from the end of the present session of the general assembly." _Laws of Maryland since 1763_: 1777, sess. Feb.-Apr., ch. xviii. ~1778, Sept. 7. Pennsylvania: Act to Collect Back Duties.~ "An Act for the recovery of the duties on Negroes and Mulattoe slaves, which on the fourth day of July, one thousand seven hundred and seventy-six, were due to this state," etc. Dallas, _Laws_, I. 782. ~1778, October. Virginia: Importation Prohibited.~ "An act for preventing the farther importation of Slaves. § 1. "For preventing the farther importation of slaves into this commonwealth, _Be it enacted by the General Assembly_, That from and after the passing of this act no slave or slaves shall hereafter be imported into this commonwealth by sea or land, nor shall any slaves so imported be sold or bought by any person whatsoever. § 2. "Every person hereafter importing slaves into this commonwealth contrary to this act shall forfeit and pay the sum of one thousand pounds for every slave so imported, and every person selling or buying any such slaves shall in like manner forfeit and pay the sum of five hundred pounds for every slave so sold or bought," etc. § 3. "_And be it farther enacted_, That every slave imported into this commonwealth, contrary to the true intent and meaning of this act, shall, upon such importation become free." § 4. Exceptions are _bona fide_ settlers with slaves not imported later than Nov. 1, 1778, nor intended to be sold; and transient travellers. Re-enacted in substance in the revision of October, 1785. For a temporary exception to this act, as concerns citizens of Georgia and South Carolina during the war, see Act of May, 1780. Hening, _Statutes_, IX. 471; X. 307; XII. 182. ~1779, October. Rhode Island: Slave-Trade Restricted.~ "An Act prohibiting slaves being sold out of the state, against their consent." Title only found. _Colonial Records_, VIII. 618; Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_, II. 449. ~1779. Vermont: Importation Prohibited.~ "An Act for securing the general privileges of the people," etc. The act abolished slavery. _Vermont State Papers, 1779-86_, p. 287. ~1780. Massachusetts: Slavery Abolished.~ Passage in the Constitution which was held by the courts to abolish slavery: "Art. I. All men are born free and equal, and have certain, natural, essential, and unalienable rights; among which may be reckoned the right of enjoying and defending their lives and liberties," etc. _Constitution of Massachusetts_, Part I., Art. 1; prefixed to _Perpetual Laws_ (1789). ~1780, March 1. Pennsylvania: Slavery Abolished.~ "An Act for the gradual abolition of slavery." § 5. All slaves to be registered before Nov. 1. § 10. None but slaves "registered as aforesaid, shall, at any time hereafter, be deemed, adjudged, or holden, within the territories of this commonwealth, as slaves or servants for life, but as free men and free women; except the domestic slaves attending upon Delegates in Congress from the other American States," and those of travellers not remaining over six months, foreign ministers, etc., "provided such domestic slaves be not aliened or sold to any inhabitant," etc. § 11. Fugitive slaves from other states may be taken back. § 14. Former duty acts, etc., repealed. Dallas, _Laws_, I. 838. Cf. _Penn. Archives_, VII. 79; VIII. 720. ~1783, April. Confederation: Slave-Trade in Treaty of 1783.~ "To the earnest wish of Jay that British ships should have no right under the convention to carry into the states any slaves from any part of the world, it being the intention of the United States entirely to prohibit their importation, Fox answered promptly: 'If that be their policy, it never can be competent to us to dispute with them their own regulations.'" Fox to Hartley, June 10, 1783, in Bancroft, _History of the Constitution_, I. 61. Cf. Sparks, _Diplomatic Correspondence_, X. 154, June, 1783. ~1783. Maryland: Importation Prohibited.~ "An Act to prohibit the bringing slaves into this state." " ... it shall not be lawful, after the passing this act, to import or bring into this state, by land or water, any negro, mulatto, or other slave, for sale, or to reside within this state; and any person brought into this state as a slave contrary to this act, if a slave before, shall thereupon immediately cease to be a slave, and shall be free; provided that this act shall not prohibit any person, being a citizen of some one of the United States, coming into this state, with a _bona fide_ intention of settling therein, and who shall actually reside within this state for one year at least, ... to import or bring in any slave or slaves which before belonged to such person, and which slave or slaves had been an inhabitant of some one of the United States, for the space of three whole years next preceding such importation," etc. _Laws of Maryland since 1763_: 1783, sess. April--June, ch. xxiii. ~1783, Aug. 13. South Carolina: £3 and £20 Duty Act.~ "An Act for levying and collecting certain duties and imposts therein mentioned, in aid of the public revenue." Cooper, _Statutes_, IV. 576. ~1784, February. Rhode Island: Manumission.~ "An Act authorizing the manumission of negroes, mulattoes, and others, and for the gradual abolition of slavery." Persons born after March, 1784, to be free. Bill framed pursuant to a petition of Quakers. _Colonial Records_, X. 7-8; Arnold, _History of Rhode Island_, II. 503. ~1784, March 26. South Carolina: £3 and £5 Duty Act.~ "An Act for levying and collecting certain Duties," etc. Cooper, _Statutes_, IV. 607. ~1785, April 12. New York: Partial Prohibition.~ "An Act granting a bounty on hemp to be raised within this State, and imposing an additional duty on sundry articles of merchandise, and for other purposes therein mentioned." " ... _And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid_, That if any negro or other person to be imported or brought into this State from any of the United States or from any other place or country after the first day of June next, shall be sold as a slave or slaves within this State, the seller or his or her factor or agent, shall be deemed guilty of a public offence, and shall for every such offence forfeit the sum of one hundred pounds lawful money of New York, to be recovered by any person," etc. "_And be it further enacted_ ... That every such person imported or brought into this State and sold contrary to the true intent and meaning of this act shall be freed." _Laws of New York, 1785-88_ (ed. 1886), pp. 120-21. ~1785. Rhode Island: Restrictive Measure (?).~ Title and text not found. Cf. _Public Laws of Rhode Island_ (revision of 1822), p. 441. ~1786, March 2. New Jersey: Importation Prohibited.~ "An Act to prevent the importation of Slaves into the State of New Jersey, and to authorize the Manumission of them under certain restrictions, and to prevent the Abuse of Slaves." "Whereas the Principles of Justice and Humanity require that the barbarous Custom of bringing the unoffending African from his native Country and Connections into a State of Slavery ought to be discountenanced, and as soon as possible prevented; and sound Policy also requires, in order to afford ample Support to such of the Community as depend upon their Labour for their daily Subsistence, that the Importation of Slaves into this State from any other State or Country whatsoever, ought to be prohibited under certain Restrictions; and that such as are under Servitude in the State ought to be protected by Law from those Exercises of Wanton Cruelty too often practiced upon them; and that every unnecessary Obstruction in the Way of freeing Slaves should be removed; therefore, § 1. "_Be it Enacted by the Council and General Assembly of this State, and it is hereby Enacted by the Authority of the same_, That from and after the Publication of this Act, it shall not be lawful for any Person or Persons whatsoever to bring into this State, either for Sale or for Servitude, any Negro Slave brought from Africa since the Year Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-six; and every Person offending by bringing into this State any such Negro Slave shall, for each Slave, forfeit and Pay the Sum of Fifty Pounds, to be sued for and recovered with Costs by the Collector of the Township into which such Slave shall be brought, to be applied when recovered to the Use of the State. § 2. "_And be it further Enacted by the Authority aforesaid_, That if any Person shall either bring or procure to be brought into this State, any Negro or Mulatto Slave, who shall not have been born in or brought from Africa since the Year above mentioned, and either sell or buy, or cause such Negro or Mulatto Slave to be sold or remain in this State, for the Space of six Months, every such Person so bringing or procuring to be brought or selling or purchasing such Slave, not born in or brought from Africa since the Year aforesaid, shall for every such Slave, forfeit and pay the Sum of Twenty Pounds, to be sued for and recovered with Costs by the Collector of the Township into which such Slave shall be brought or remain after the Time limited for that Purpose, the Forfeiture to be applied to the Use of the State as aforesaid. § 3. "_Provided always, and be it further Enacted by the Authority aforesaid_, That Nothing in this Act contained shall be construed to prevent any Person who shall remove into the State, to take a settled Residence here, from bringing all his or her Slaves without incurring the Penalties aforesaid, excepting such Slaves as shall have been brought from Africa since the Year first above mentioned, or to prevent any Foreigners or others having only a temporary Residence in this State, for the Purpose of transacting any particular Business, or on their Travels, from bringing and employing such Slaves as Servants, during the Time of his or her Stay here, provided such Slaves shall not be sold or disposed of in this State." _Acts of the Tenth General Assembly_ (Tower Collection of Laws). ~1786, Oct. 30. Vermont: External Trade Prohibited.~ "An act to prevent the sale and transportation of Negroes and Molattoes out of this State." £100 penalty. _Statutes of Vermont_ (ed. 1787), p. 105. ~1786. North Carolina: Prohibitive Duty.~ "An act to impose a duty on all slaves brought into this state by land or water." "Whereas the importation of slaves into this state is productive of evil consequences, and highly impolitic," etc. A prohibitive duty is imposed. The exact text was not found. § 6. Slaves introduced from States which have passed emancipation acts are to be returned in three months; if not, a bond of £50 is to be forfeited, and a fine of £100 imposed. § 8. Act to take effect next Feb. 1; repealed by Act of 1790, ch. 18. Martin, _Iredell's Acts of Assembly_, I. 413, 492. ~1787, Feb. 3. Delaware: Exportation Prohibited.~ "An Act to prevent the exportation of slaves, and for other purposes." _Laws of Delaware_ (ed. 1797), p. 884, ch. 145 b. ~1787, March 28. South Carolina: Total Prohibition.~ "An Act to regulate the recovery and payment of debts and for prohibiting the importation of negroes for the time therein mentioned." Title only given. Grimké, _Public Laws_, p. lxviii, No. 1485. ~1787, March 28. South Carolina: Importation Prohibited.~ "An Ordinance to impose a Penalty on any person who shall import into this State any Negroes, contrary to the Instalment Act." 1. "_Be it ordained_, by the honorable the Senate and House of Representatives, met in General Assembly, and by the authority of the same, That any person importing or bringing into this State a negro slave, contrary to the Act to regulate the recovery of debts and prohibiting the importation of negroes, shall, besides the forfeiture of such negro or slave, be liable to a penalty of one hundred pounds, to the use of the State, for every such negro or slave so imported and brought in, in addition to the forfeiture in and by the said Act prescribed." Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 430. ~1787, October. Rhode Island: Importation Prohibited.~ "An act to prevent the slave trade and to encourage the abolition of slavery." This act prohibited and censured trade under penalty of £100 for each person and £1,000 for each vessel. Bartlett, _Index to the Printed Acts and Resolves_, p. 333; _Narragansett Historical Register_, II. 298-9. * * * * * APPENDIX B. A CHRONOLOGICAL CONSPECTUS OF STATE, NATIONAL, AND INTERNATIONAL LEGISLATION. 1788-1871. As the State statutes and Congressional reports and bills are difficult to find, the significant parts of such documents are printed in full. In the case of national statutes and treaties, the texts may easily be found through the references. ~1788, Feb. 22. New York: Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ "An Act concerning slaves." "Whereas in consequence of the act directing a revision of the laws of this State, it is expedient that the several existing laws relative to slaves, should be revised, and comprized in one. Therefore, _Be it enacted_," etc. "And to prevent the further importation of slaves into this State, _Be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid_, That if any person shall sell as a slave within this State any negro, or other person, who has been imported or brought into this State, after" June 1, 1785, "such seller, or his or her factor or agent, making such sale, shall be deemed guilty of a public offence, and shall for every such offence, forfeit the sum of one hundred pounds.... _And further_, That every person so imported ... shall be free." The purchase of slaves for removal to another State is prohibited under penalty of £100. _Laws of New York, 1785-88_ (ed. 1886), pp. 675-6. ~1788, March 25. Massachusetts: Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ "An Act to prevent the Slave-Trade, and for granting Relief to the Families of such unhappy Persons as may be kidnapped or decoyed away from this Commonwealth." "Whereas by the African trade for slaves, the lives and liberties of many innocent persons have been from time to time sacrificed to the lust of gain: And whereas some persons residing in this Commonwealth may be so regardless of the rights of human kind, as to be concerned in that unrighteous commerce: § 1. "Be it therefore enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives, in General Court assembled, and by the authority of the same, That no citizen of this Commonwealth, or other person residing within the same, shall for himself, or any other person whatsoever, either as master, factor, supercargo, owner or hirer, in whole or in part, of any vessel, directly or indirectly, import or transport, or buy or sell, or receive on board, his or their vessel, with intent to cause to be imported or transported, any of the inhabitants of any State or Kingdom, in that part of the world called _Africa_, as slaves, or as servants for term of years." Any person convicted of doing this shall forfeit and pay the sum of £50 for every person received on board, and the sum of £200 for every vessel fitted out for the trade, "to be recovered by action of debt, in any Court within this Commonwealth, proper to try the same; the one moiety thereof to the use of this Commonwealth, and the other moiety to the person who shall prosecute for and recover the same." § 2. All insurance on said vessels and cargo shall be null and void; "and this act may be given in evidence under the general issue, in any suit or action commenced for the recovery of insurance so made," etc. § 4. "_Provided_ ... That this act do not extend to vessels which have already sailed, their owners, factors, or commanders, for and during their present voyage, or to any insurance that shall have been made, previous to the passing of the same." _Perpetual Laws of Massachusetts, 1780-89_ (ed. 1789), p. 235. ~1788, March 29. Pennsylvania: Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ "An Act to explain and amend an act, entituled, 'An Act for the gradual abolition of slavery.'" § 2. Slaves brought in by persons intending to settle shall be free. § 3. " ... no negro or mulatto slave, or servant for term of years," except servants of congressmen, consuls, etc., "shall be removed out of this state, with the design and intention that the place of abode or residence of such slave or servant shall be thereby altered or changed, or with the design and intention that such slave or servant, if a female, and pregnant, shall be detained and kept out of this state till her delivery of the child of which she is or shall be pregnant, or with the design and intention that such slave or servant shall be brought again into this state, after the expiration of six months from the time of such slave or servant having been first brought into this state, without his or her consent, if of full age, testified upon a private examination, before two Justices of the peace of the city or county in which he or she shall reside, or, being under the age of twenty-one years, without his or her consent, testified in manner aforesaid, and also without the consent of his or her parents," etc. Penalty for every such offence, £75. § 5. " ... if any person or persons shall build, fit, equip, man, or otherwise prepare any ship or vessel, within any port of this state, or shall cause any ship or other vessel to sail from any port of this state, for the purpose of carrying on a trade or traffic in slaves, to, from, or between Europe, Asia, Africa or America, or any places or countries whatever, or of transporting slaves to or from one port or place to another, in any part or parts of the world, such ship or vessel, her tackle, furniture, apparel, and other appurtenances, shall be forfeited to the commonwealth.... And, moreover, all and every person and persons so building, fitting out," etc., shall forfeit £1000. Dallas, _Laws_, II. 586. ~1788, October. Connecticut: Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ "An Act to prevent the Slave-Trade." _"Be it enacted by the Governor, Council and Representatives in General Court assembled, and by the Authority of the same_, That no Citizen or Inhabitant of this State, shall for himself, or any other Person, either as Master, Factor, Supercargo, Owner or Hirer, in Whole, or in Part, of any Vessel, directly or indirectly, import or transport, or buy or sell, or receive on board his or her Vessel, with Intent to cause to be imported or transported, any of the Inhabitants of any Country in Africa, as Slaves or Servants, for Term of Years; upon Penalty of _Fifty Pounds_, for every Person so received on board, as aforesaid; and of _Five Hundred Pounds_ for every such Vessel employed in the Importation or Transportation aforesaid; to be recovered by Action, Bill, Plaint or Information; the one Half to the Plaintiff, and the other Half to the Use of this State." And all insurance on vessels and slaves shall be void. This act to be given as evidence under general issue, in any suit commenced for recovery of such insurance. " ... if any Person shall kidnap ... any free Negro," etc., inhabitant of this State, he shall forfeit £100. Every vessel clearing for the coast of Africa or any other part of the world, and suspected to be in the slave-trade, must give bond in £1000. Slightly amended in 1789. _Acts and Laws of Connecticut_ (ed. 1784), pp. 368-9, 388. ~1788, Nov. 4. South Carolina: Temporary Prohibition.~ "An Act to regulate the Payment and Recovery of Debts, and to prohibit the Importation of Negroes, for the Time therein limited." § 16. "No negro or other slave shall be imported or brought into this State either by land or water on or before the first of January, 1793, under the penalty of forfeiting every such slave or slaves to any person who will sue or inform for the same; and under further penalty of paying £100 to the use of the State for every such negro or slave so imported or brought in: _Provided_, That nothing in this prohibition contained shall extend to such slaves as are now the property of citizens of the United States, and at the time of passing this act shall be within the limits of the said United States. § 17. "All former instalment laws, and an ordinance imposing a penalty on persons importing negroes into this State, passed the 28th day of March 1787, are hereby repealed." Grimké, _Public Laws_, p. 466. ~1789, Feb. 3. Delaware: Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ "_An additional Supplementary_ ACT _to an act, intituled_, An act to prevent the exportation of slaves, and for other purposes." "Whereas it is inconsistent with that spirit of general liberty which pervades the constitution of this state, that vessels should be fitted out, or equipped, in any of the ports thereof, for the purpose of receiving and transporting the natives of Africa to places where they are held in slavery; or that any acts should be deemed lawful, which tend to encourage or promote such iniquitous traffic among us: § 1. "_Be it therefore enacted by the General Assembly of Delaware_, That if any owner or owners, master, agent, or factor, shall fit out, equip, man, or otherwise prepare, any ship or vessel within any port or place in this state, or shall cause any ship, or other vessel, to sail from any port or place in this state, for the purpose of carrying on a trade or traffic in slaves, to, from, or between, Europe, Asia, Africa, or America, or any places or countries whatever, or of transporting slaves to, or from, one port or place to another, in any part or parts of the world; such ship or vessel, her tackle, furniture, apparel, and other appurtenances, shall be forfeited to this state.... And moreover, all and every person and persons so fitting out ... any ship or vessel ... shall severally forfeit and pay the sum of Five Hundred Pounds;" one-half to the state, and one-half to the informer. § 2. "_And whereas_ it has been found by experience, that the act, intituled, _An act to prevent the exportation of slaves, and for other purposes_, has not produced all the good effects expected therefrom," any one exporting a slave to Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, or the West Indies, without license, shall forfeit £100 for each slave exported and £20 for each attempt. § 3. Slaves to be tried by jury for capital offences. _Laws of Delaware_ (ed. 1797), p. 942, ch. 194 b. ~1789, May 13. Congress (House): Proposed Duty on Slaves Imported.~ A tax of $10 per head on slaves imported, moved by Parker of Virginia. After debate, withdrawn. _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 336-42. ~1789, Sept. 19. Congress (House): Bill to Tax Slaves Imported.~ A committee under Parker of Virginia reports, "a bill concerning the importation of certain persons prior to the year 1808." Read once and postponed until next session. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 1 Cong. 1 sess. I. 37, 114; _Annals of Cong._, 1 Cong. 1 sess., pp. 366, 903. ~1790, March 22. Congress (House): Declaration of Powers.~ See above, pages 82-83. ~1790, March 22. New York: Amendment of Act of 1788.~ "An Act to amend the act entitled 'An act concerning slaves.'" "Whereas many inconveniences have arisen from the prohibiting the exporting of slaves from this State. Therefore "_Be it enacted_ ..., That where any slave shall hereafter be convicted of a crime under the degree of a capital offence, in the supreme court, or the court of oyer and terminer, and general gaol delivery, or a court of general sessions of the peace within this State, it shall and may be lawful to and for the master or mistress to cause such slave to be transported out of this State," etc. _Laws of New York, 1789-96_ (ed. 1886), p. 151. ~1792, May. Connecticut: Act of 1788 Strengthened.~ "An Act in addition to an Act, entitled 'An Act to prevent the Slave Trade.'" This provided that persons directly or indirectly aiding or assisting in slave-trading should be fined £100. All notes, bonds, mortgages, etc., of any kind, made or executed in payment for any slave imported contrary to this act, are declared null and void. Persons removing from the State might carry away their slaves. _Acts and Laws of Connecticut_ (ed. 1784), pp. 412-3. ~1792, Dec. 17. Virginia: Revision of Acts.~ "An Act to reduce into one, the several acts concerning slaves, free negroes, and mulattoes." § 1. "_Be it enacted_ ..., That no persons shall henceforth be slaves within this commonwealth, except such as were so on the seventeenth day of October," 1785, "and the descendants of the females of them." § 2. "Slaves which shall hereafter be brought into this commonwealth, and kept therein one whole year together, or so long at different times as shall amount to one year, shall be free." § 4. "_Provided_, That nothing in this act contained, shall be construed to extend to those who may incline to remove from any of the United States and become citizens of this, if within sixty days after such removal, he or she shall take the following oath before some justice of the peace of this commonwealth: '_I, A.B., do swear, that my removal into the state of Virginia, was with no intent of evading the laws for preventing the further importation of slaves, nor have I brought with me any slaves, with an intention of selling them, nor have any of the slaves which I have brought with me, been imported from Africa, or any of the West India islands, since the first day of November_,'" 1778, etc. § 53. This act to be in force immediately. _Statutes at Large of Virginia, New Series_, I. 122. ~1792, Dec. 21. South Carolina: Importation Prohibited until 1795.~ "An Act to prohibit the importation of Slaves from Africa, or other places beyond sea, into this State, for two years; and also to prohibit the importation or bringing in Slaves, or Negroes, Mulattoes, Indians, Moors or Mestizoes, bound for a term of years, from any of the United States, by land or by water." "Whereas, it is deemed inexpedient to increase the number of slaves within this State, in our present circumstances and situation; § 1. "_Be it therefore enacted_ ..., That no slave shall be imported into this State from Africa, the West India Islands, or other place beyond sea, for and during the term of two years, commencing from the first day of January next, which will be in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and ninety-three." § 2. No slaves, Negroes, Indians, etc., bound for a term of years, to be brought in from any of the United States or bordering countries. Settlers may bring their slaves. Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 431. ~1793, Dec. 19. Georgia: Importation Prohibited.~ "An act to prevent the importation of negroes into this state from the places herein mentioned." Title only. Re-enacted (?) by the Constitution of 1798. Marbury and Crawford, _Digest_, p. 442; Prince, _Digest_, p. 786. ~1794, North Carolina: Importation Prohibited.~ "An act to prevent the further importation and bringing of slaves and indented servants of colour into this state." § 1. "_Be it enacted_ ..., That from and after the first day of May next, no slave or indented servant of colour shall be imported or brought into this state by land or water; nor shall any slave or indented servant of colour, who may be imported or brought contrary to the intent and meaning of this act, be bought, sold or hired by any person whatever." § 2. Penalty for importing, £100 per slave; for buying or selling, the same. § 4. Persons removing, travelling, etc., are excepted. The act was amended slightly in 1796. Martin, _Iredell's Acts of Assembly_, II. 53, 94. ~1794, March 22. United States Statute: Export Slave-Trade Forbidden.~ "An Act to prohibit the carrying on the Slave Trade from the United States to any foreign place or country." _Statutes at Large_, I. 347. For proceedings in Congress, see _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1820), 3 Cong. 1 sess. II. 51; _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 3 Cong. 1 sess. II. 76, 84, 85, 96, 98, 99, 100; _Annals of Cong._, 3 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 64, 70, 72. ~1794, Dec. 20. South Carolina: Act of 1792 Extended.~ "An Act to revive and extend an Act entitled 'An Act to prohibit the importation of Slaves from Africa, or other places beyond Sea, into this State, for two years; and also, to prohibit the importation or bringing in of Negro Slaves, Mulattoes, Indians, Moors or Mestizoes, bound for a term of years, from any of the United States, by Land or Water.'" § 1. Act of 1792 extended until Jan. 1, 1797. § 2. It shall not be lawful hereafter to import slaves, free Negroes, etc., from the West Indies, any part of America outside the United States, "or from other parts beyond sea." Such slaves are to be forfeited and sold; the importer to be fined £50; free Negroes to be re-transported. Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 433. ~1795. North Carolina: Act against West Indian Slaves.~ "An act to prevent any person who may emigrate from any of the West India or Bahama islands, or the French, Dutch or Spanish settlements on the southern coast of America, from bringing slaves into this state, and also for imposing certain restrictions on free persons of colour who may hereafter come into this state." Penalty, £100 for each slave over 15 years of age. _Laws of North Carolina_ (revision of 1819), I. 786. ~1796. Maryland: Importation Prohibited.~ "An Act relating to Negroes, and to repeal the acts of assembly therein mentioned." "_Be it enacted_ ..., That it shall not be lawful, from and after the passing of this act, to import or bring into this state, by land or water, any negro, mulatto or other slave, for sale, or to reside within this state; and any person brought into this state as a slave contrary to this act, if a slave before, shall thereupon immediately cease to be the property of the person or persons so importing or bringing such slave within this state, and shall be free." § 2. Any citizen of the United States, coming into the State to take up _bona fide_ residence, may bring with him, or within one year import, any slave which was his property at the time of removal, "which slaves, or the mother of which slaves, shall have been a resident of the United States, or some one of them, three whole years next preceding such removal." § 3. Such slaves cannot be sold within three years, except by will, etc. In 1797, "A Supplementary Act," etc., slightly amended the preceding, allowing guardians, executors, etc., to import the slaves of the estate. Dorsey, _Laws_, I. 334, 344. ~1796, Dec. 19. South Carolina: Importation Prohibited until 1799.~ "An Act to prohibit the importation of Negroes, until the first day of January, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-nine." "Whereas, it appears to be highly impolitic to import negroes from Africa, or other places beyond seas," etc. Extended by acts of Dec. 21, 1798, and Dec. 20, 1800, until Jan. 1, 1803. Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 434, 436. ~1797, Jan. 18. Delaware: Codification of Acts.~ "An Act concerning Negro and Mulatto slaves." § 5. " ... any Negro or Mulatto slave, who hath been or shall be brought into this state contrary to the intent and meaning of [the act of 1787]; and any Negro or Mulatto slave who hath been or shall be exported, or sold with an intention for exportation, or carried out for sale from this state, contrary to the intent and meaning of [the act of 1793], shall be, and are hereby declared free; any thing in this act to the contrary notwithstanding." _Laws of Delaware_ (ed. 1797), p. 1321, ch. 124 c. ~1798, Jan. 31. Georgia: Importation Prohibited.~ "An act to prohibit the further importation of slaves into this state." § 1. " ... six months after the passing of this act, it shall be unlawful for any person or persons to import into this state, from Africa or elsewhere, any negro or negroes of any age or sex." Every person so offending shall forfeit for the first offence the sum of $1,000 for every negro so imported, and for every subsequent offence the sum of $1,000, one half for the use of the informer, and one half for the use of the State. § 2. Slaves not to be brought from other States for sale after three months. § 3. Persons convicted of bringing slaves into this State with a view to sell them, are subject to the same penalties as if they had sold them. Marbury and Crawford, _Digest_, p. 440. ~1798, March 14. New Jersey: Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ "An Act respecting slaves." § 12. "_And be it enacted_, That from and after the passing of this act, it shall not be lawful for any person or persons whatsoever, to bring into this state, either for sale or for servitude, any negro or other slave whatsoever." Penalty, $140 for each slave; travellers and temporary residents excepted. § 17. Any persons fitting out vessels for the slave-trade shall forfeit them. Paterson, _Digest_, p. 307. ~1798, April 7. United States Statute: Importation into Mississippi Territory Prohibited.~ "An Act for an amicable settlement of limits with the state of Georgia, and authorizing the establishment of a government in the Mississippi territory." _Statutes at Large_, I. 549. For proceedings in Congress, see _Annals of Cong._, 5 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 511, 512, 513, 514, 515, 532, 533, 1235, 1249, 1277-84, 1296, 1298-1312, 1313, 1318. ~1798, May 30. Georgia: Constitutional Prohibition.~ Constitution of Georgia:-- Art. IV § 11. "There shall be no future importation of slaves into this state from Africa, or any foreign place, after the first day of October next. The legislature shall have no power to pass laws for the emancipation of slaves, without the consent of each of their respective owners previous to such emancipation. They shall have no power to prevent emigrants, from either of the United States to this state, from bringing with them such persons as may be deemed slaves, by the laws of any one of the United States." Marbury and Crawford, _Digest_, p. 30. ~1800, May 10. United States Statute: Americans Forbidden to Trade from one Foreign Country to Another.~ "An Act in addition to the act intituled 'An act to prohibit the carrying on the Slave Trade from the United States to any foreign place or country.'" _Statutes at Large_, II. 70. For proceedings in Congress, see _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 6 Cong. 1 sess. III. 72, 77, 88, 92. ~1800, Dec. 20. South Carolina: Slaves and Free Negroes Prohibited.~ "An Act to prevent Negro Slaves and other persons of Colour, from being brought into or entering this State." Supplemented Dec. 19, 1801, and amended Dec. 18, 1802. Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 436, 444, 447. ~1801, April 8. New York: Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ "An Act concerning slaves and servants." " ... _And be it further enacted_, That no slave shall hereafter be imported or brought into this State, unless the person importing or bringing such slave shall be coming into this State with intent to reside permanently therein and shall have resided without this State, and also have owned such slave at least during one year next preceding the importing or bringing in of such slave," etc. A certificate, sworn to, must be obtained; any violation of this act or neglect to take out such certificate will result in freedom to the slave. Any sale or limited transfer of any person hereafter imported to be a public offence, under penalty of $250, and freedom to the slave transferred. The export of slaves or of any person freed by this act is forbidden, under penalty of $250 and freedom to the slave. Transportation for crime is permitted. Re-enacted with amendments March 31, 1817. _Laws of New York, 1801_ (ed. 1887), pp. 547-52; _Laws of New York, 1817_ (ed. 1817), p. 136. ~1803, Feb. 28. United States Statute: Importation into States Prohibiting Forbidden.~ "An Act to prevent the importation of certain persons into certain states, where, by the laws thereof, their admission is prohibited." _Statutes at Large_, II. 205. For copy of the proposed bill which this replaced, see _Annals of Cong._, 7 Cong. 2 sess. p. 467. For proceedings in Congress, see _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 7 Cong. 2 sess. IV 304, 324, 347; _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 7 Cong. 2 sess. III. 267, 268, 269-70, 273, 275, 276, 279. ~1803, Dec. 17. South Carolina: African Slaves Admitted.~ "An Act to alter and amend the several Acts respecting the importation or bringing into this State, from beyond seas, or elsewhere, Negroes and other persons of colour; and for other purposes therein mentioned." § 1. Acts of 1792, 1794, 1796, 1798, 1800, 1802, hereby repealed. § 2. Importation of Negroes from the West Indies prohibited. § 3. No Negro over fifteen years of age to be imported from the United States except under certificate of good character. § 5. Negroes illegally imported to be forfeited and sold, etc. Cooper, _Statutes_, VII. 449. ~1804.~ [~Denmark.~ Act of 1792 abolishing the slave-trade goes into effect.] ~1804, Feb. 14. Congress (House): Proposed Censure of South Carolina.~ Representative Moore of South Carolina offered the following resolution, as a substitute to Mr. Bard's taxing proposition of Jan. 6:-- "_Resolved_, That this House receive with painful sensibility information that one of the Southern States, by a repeal of certain prohibitory laws, have permitted a traffic unjust in its nature, and highly impolitic in free Governments." Ruled out of order by the chairman of the Committee of the Whole. _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1004. ~1804, Feb. 15. Congress (House): Proposed Duty.~ "_Resolved_, That a tax of ten dollars be imposed on every slave imported into any part of the United States." "_Ordered_, That a bill, or bills, be brought in, pursuant to the said resolution," etc. Feb. 16 "a bill laying a duty on slaves imported into the United States" was read, but was never considered. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 8 Cong. 1 sess. IV 523, 578, 580, 581-2, 585; _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 820, 876, 991, 1012, 1020, 1024-36. ~1804, March 26. United States Statute: Slave-Trade Limited.~ "An Act erecting Louisiana into two territories," etc. Acts of 1794 and 1803 extended to Louisiana. _Statutes at Large_, II. 283. For proceedings in Congress, see _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 106, 211, 223, 231, 233-4, 238, 255, 1038, 1054-68, 1069-79, 1128-30, 1185-9. ~1805, Feb. 15. Massachusetts: Proposed Amendment.~ "_Resolve requesting the Governor to transmit to the Senators and Representatives in Congress, and the Executives of the several States this Resolution, as an amendment to the Constitution of the United States, respecting Slaves._" June 8, Governor's message; Connecticut answers that it is inexpedient; Maryland opposes the proposition. _Massachusetts Resolves_, February, 1805, p. 55; June, 1805, p. 18. See below, March 3, 1805. ~1805, March 2. United States Statute: Slave-Trade to Orleans Territory Permitted.~ "An Act further providing for the government of the territory of Orleans." § 1. A territorial government erected similar to Mississippi, with same rights and privileges. § 5. 6th Article of Ordinance of 1787, on slaves, not to extend to this territory. _Statutes at Large_, II. 322. For proceedings in Congress, see _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 28, 30, 45-6, 47, 48, 54, 59-61, 69, 727-8, 871-2, 957, 1016-9, 1020-1, 1201, 1209-10, 1211. Cf. _Statutes at Large_, II. 331; _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 2 sess., pp. 50, 51, 52, 57, 68, 69, 1213, 1215. In _Journals_, see Index, Senate Bills Nos. 8, 11. ~1805, March 3. Congress (House): Massachusetts Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ Mr. Varnum of Massachusetts presented the resolution of the Legislature of Massachusetts, "instructing the Senators, and requesting the Representatives in Congress, from the said State, to take all legal and necessary steps, to use their utmost exertions, as soon as the same is practicable, to obtain an amendment to the Federal Constitution, so as to authorize and empower the Congress of the United States to pass a law, whenever they may deem it expedient, to prevent the further importation of slaves from any of the West India Islands, from the coast of Africa, or elsewhere, into the United States, or any part thereof." A motion was made that Congress have power to prevent further importation; it was read and ordered to lie on the table. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 8 Cong. 2 sess. V 171; _Annals of Cong._, 8 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1221-2. For the original resolution, see _Massachusetts Resolves_, May, 1802, to March, 1806, Vol. II. A. (State House ed., p. 239.) ~1805, Dec. 17. Congress (Senate): Proposition to Prohibit Importation.~ A "bill to prohibit the importation of certain persons therein described into any port or place within the jurisdiction of the United States, from and after" Jan. 1, 1808, was read twice and postponed. _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 9 Cong. 1 sess. IV. 10-11; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 20-1. ~1806, Jan. 20. Congress (House): Vermont Proposed Amendment.~ "Mr. Olin, one of the Representatives from the State of Vermont, presented to the House certain resolutions of the General Assembly of the said State, proposing an article of amendment to the Constitution of the United States, to prevent the further importation of slaves, or people of color, from any of the West India Islands, from the coast of Africa, or elsewhere, into the United States, or any part thereof; which were read, and ordered to lie on the table." No further mention found. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 1 sess. V 238; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 343-4. ~1806, Jan. 25. Virginia: Imported Slaves to be Sold.~ "An Act to amend the several laws concerning slaves." § 5. If the jury before whom the importer is brought "shall find that the said slave or slaves were brought into this commonwealth, and have remained therein, contrary to the provisions of this act, the court shall make an order, directing him, her or them to be delivered to the overseers of the poor, to be by them sold for cash and applied as herein directed." § 8. Penalty for bringing slaves, $400 per slave; the same for buying or hiring, knowingly, such a slave. § 16. This act to take effect May 1, 1806. _Statutes at Large of Virginia_, New Series, III. 251. ~1806, Jan. 27. Congress (House): Bill to Tax Slaves Imported.~ "A Bill laying a duty on slaves imported into any of the United States." Finally dropped. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 8 Cong. 2 sess. V. 129; _Ibid._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. V. 195, 223, 240, 242, 243-4, 248, 260, 262, 264, 276-7, 287, 294, 305, 309, 338; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 273, 274, 346, 358, 372, 434, 442-4, 533. ~1806, Feb. 4. Congress (House): Proposition to Prohibit Slave-Trade after 1807.~ Mr. Bidwell moved that the following section be added to the bill for taxing slaves imported,--that any ship so engaged be forfeited. The proposition was rejected, yeas, 17, nays, 86 (?). _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. p. 438. ~1806, Feb. 10. Congress (House): New Hampshire Proposed Amendment.~ "Mr. Tenney ... presented to the House certain resolutions of the Legislature of the State of New Hampshire, 'proposing an amendment to the Constitution of the United States, so as to authorize and empower Congress to pass a law, whenever they may deem it expedient, to prevent the further importation of slaves,' or people of color, into the United States, or any part thereof." Read and laid on the table. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 1 sess. V. 266; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. p. 448. ~1806, Feb. 17. Congress (House): Proposition on Slave-Trade.~ The committee on the slave-trade reported a resolution:-- "_Resolved_, That it shall not be lawful for any person or persons, to import or bring into any of the Territories of the United States, any slave or slaves that may hereafter be imported into the United States." _House Journal_, 9 Cong. 1 sess. V 264, 278, 308, 345-6; _House Reports_, 9 Cong. 1 sess. II. Feb. 17, 1806; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 472-3. ~1806, April 7. Congress (Senate): Maryland Proposed Amendment.~ "Mr. Wright communicated a resolution of the legislature of the state of Maryland instructing their Senators and Representatives in Congress to use their utmost exertions to obtain an amendment to the constitution of the United States to prevent the further importation of slaves; whereupon, Mr. Wright submitted the following resolutions for the consideration of the Senate.... "_Resolved_, That the migration or importation of slaves into the United States, or any territory thereof, be prohibited after the first day of January, 1808." Considered April 10, and further consideration postponed until the first Monday in December next. _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 9 Cong. 1 sess. IV. 76-7, 79; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 229, 232. ~1806, Dec. 2. President Jefferson's Message.~ See above, pages 97-98. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 468. ~1806, Dec. 15. Congress (House): Proposition on Slave-Trade.~ "A bill to prohibit the importation or bringing of slaves into the United States, etc.," after Dec. 31, 1807. Finally merged into Senate bill. _Ibid._, House Bill No. 148. ~1806, Dec. 17. Congress (House): Sloan's Proposition.~ Proposition to amend the House bill by inserting after the article declaring the forfeiture of an illegally imported slave, "And such person or slave shall be entitled to his freedom." Lost. _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 167-77, 180-89. ~1806, Dec. 29. Congress (House): Sloan's Second Proposition.~ Illegally imported Africans to be either freed, apprenticed, or returned to Africa. Lost; Jan. 5, 1807, a somewhat similar proposition was also lost. _Ibid._, pp. 226-8, 254. ~1806, Dec. 31. Great Britain: Rejected Treaty.~ "Treaty of amity, commerce, and navigation, between His Britannic Majesty and the United States of America." "Art. XXIV. The high contracting parties engage to communicate to each other, without delay, all such laws as have been or shall be hereafter enacted by their respective Legislatures, as also all measures which shall have been taken for the abolition or limitation of the African slave trade; and they further agree to use their best endeavors to procure the co-operation of other Powers for the final and complete abolition of a trade so repugnant to the principles of justice and humanity." _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, III. 147, 151. ~1807, March 25. [England: Slave-Trade Abolished.~ "An Act for the Abolition of the Slave Trade." _Statute 47 George III._, 1 sess. ch. 36.] ~1807, Jan. 7. Congress (House): Bidwell's Proposition.~ "Provided, that no person shall be sold as a slave by virtue of this act." Offered as an amendment to § 3 of House bill; defeated 60 to 61, Speaker voting. A similar proposition was made Dec. 23, 1806. _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 513-6. Cf. _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 199-203, 265-7. ~1807, Feb. 9. Congress (House): Section Seven of House Bill.~ § 7 of the bill reported to the House by the committee provided that all Negroes imported should be conveyed whither the President might direct and there be indentured as apprentices, or employed in whatever way the President might deem best for them and the country; provided that no such Negroes should be indentured or employed except in some State in which provision is now made for the gradual abolition of slavery. Blank spaces were left for limiting the term of indenture. The report was never acted on. _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 477-8. ~1807, March 2. United States Statute: Importation Prohibited.~ "An Act to prohibit the importation of Slaves into any port or place within the jurisdiction of the United States, from and after the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eight." Bills to amend § 8, so as to make less ambiguous the permit given to the internal traffic, were introduced Feb. 27 and Nov. 27. _Statutes at Large_, II. 426. For proceedings in Senate, see _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 9 Cong. 1-2 sess. IV. 11, 112, 123, 124, 132, 133, 150, 158, 164, 165, 167, 168; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 16, 19, 23, 33, 36, 45, 47, 68, 69, 70, 71, 79, 87, 93. For proceedings in House, see _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 9 Cong. 2 sess. V. 470, 482, 488, 490, 491, 496, 500, 504, 510, 513-6, 517, 540, 557, 575, 579, 581, 583-4, 585, 592, 594, 610, 613-4, 616, 623, 638, 640; 10 Cong. 1 sess. VI. 27, 50; _Annals of Cong._, 9 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 167, 180, 200, 220, 231, 254, 264, 270. ~1808, Feb. 23. Congress (Senate): Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ "Agreeably to instructions from the legislature of the state of Pennsylvania to their Senators in Congress, Mr. Maclay submitted the following resolution, which was read for consideration:-- "_Resolved_ ..., That the Constitution of the United States be so altered and amended, as to prevent the Congress of the United States, and the legislatures of any state in the Union, from authorizing the importation of slaves." No further mention. _Senate Journal_ (repr. 1821), 10 Cong. 1 sess. IV. 235; _Annals of Cong._, 10 Cong. 1 sess. p. 134. For the full text of the instructions, see _Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, I. 716. ~1810, Dec. 5. President Madison's Message.~ "Among the commercial abuses still committed under the American flag, ... it appears that American citizens are instrumental in carrying on a traffic in enslaved Africans, equally in violation of the laws of humanity, and in defiance of those of their own country. The same just and benevolent motives which produced the interdiction in force against this criminal conduct, will doubtless be felt by Congress, in devising further means of suppressing the evil." _House Journal_ (repr. 1826), 11 Cong. 3 sess. VII. 435. ~1811, Jan. 15. United States Statute: Secret Act and Joint Resolution against Amelia Island Smugglers.~ _Statutes at Large_, III. 471 ff. ~1815, March 29. [France: Abolition of Slave-Trade.~ Napoleon on his return from Elba decrees the abolition of the slave-trade. Decree re-enacted in 1818 by the Bourbon dynasty. _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1815-16, p. 196, note; 1817-18, p. 1025.] ~1815, Feb. 18. Great Britain: Treaty of Ghent.~ "Treaty of peace and amity. Concluded December 24, 1814; Ratifications exchanged at Washington February 17, 1815; Proclaimed February 18, 1815." Art. X. "Whereas the traffic in slaves is irreconcilable with the principles of humanity and justice, and whereas both His Majesty and the United States are desirous of continuing their efforts to promote its entire abolition, it is hereby agreed that both the contracting parties shall use their best endeavors to accomplish so desirable an object." _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (ed. 1889), p. 405. ~1815, Dec. 8. Alabama and Mississippi Territory: Act to Dispose of Illegally Imported Slaves.~ "An Act concerning Slaves brought into this Territory, contrary to the Laws of the United States." Slaves to be sold at auction, and the proceeds to be divided between the territorial treasury and the collector or informer. Toulmin, _Digest of the Laws of Alabama_, p. 637; _Statutes of Mississippi digested_, etc. (ed. 1816), p. 389. ~1816, Nov. 18. North Carolina: Act to Dispose of Illegally Imported Slaves.~ "An act to direct the disposal of negroes, mulattoes and persons of colour, imported into this state, contrary to the provisions of an act of the Congress of the United States, entitled 'an act to prohibit the importation of slaves into any port or place, within the jurisdiction of the United States, from and after the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eight.'" § 1. Every slave illegally imported after 1808 shall be sold for the use of the State. § 2. The sheriff shall seize and sell such slave, and pay the proceeds to the treasurer of the State. § 3. If the slave abscond, the sheriff may offer a reward not exceeding one-fifth of the value of the slave. _Laws of North Carolina, 1816_, ch. xii. p. 9; _Laws of North Carolina_ (revision of 1819), II. 1350. ~1816, Dec. 3. President Madison's Message.~ "The United States having been the first to abolish, within the extent of their authority, the transportation of the natives of Africa into slavery, by prohibiting the introduction of slaves, and by punishing their citizens participating in the traffick, cannot but be gratified at the progress, made by concurrent efforts of other nations, towards a general suppression of so great an evil. They must feel, at the same time, the greater solicitude to give the fullest efficacy to their own regulations. With that view, the interposition of Congress appears to be required by the violations and evasions which, it is suggested, are chargeable on unworthy citizens, who mingle in the slave trade under foreign flags, and with foreign ports; and by collusive importations of slaves into the United States, through adjoining ports and territories. I present the subject to Congress, with a full assurance of their disposition to apply all the remedy which can be afforded by an amendment of the law. The regulations which were intended to guard against abuses of a kindred character, in the trade between the several States, ought also to be rendered more effectual for their humane object." _House Journal_, 14 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 15-6. ~1817, Feb. 11. Congress (House): Proposed Joint Resolution.~ "Joint Resolution for abolishing the traffick in Slaves, and the Colinization [_sic_] of the Free People of Colour of the United States." "_Resolved_, ... That the President be, and he is hereby authorized to consult and negotiate with all the governments where ministers of the United States are, or shall be accredited, on the means of effecting an entire and immediate abolition of the traffick in slaves. And, also, to enter into a convention with the government of Great Britain, for receiving into the colony of Sierra Leone, such of the free people of colour of the United States as, with their own consent, shall be carried thither.... "_Resolved_, That adequate provision shall hereafter be made to defray any necessary expenses which may be incurred in carrying the preceding resolution into effect." Reported on petition of the Colonization Society by the committee on the President's Message. No further record. _House Journal_, 14 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 25-7, 380; _House Doc._, 14 Cong. 2 sess. No. 77. ~1817, July 28. [Great Britain and Portugal: First Concession of Right of Search.~ "By this treaty, ships of war of each of the nations might visit merchant vessels of both, if suspected of having slaves on board, acquired by illicit traffic." This "related only to the trade north of the equator; for the slave-trade of Portugal within the regions of western Africa, to the south of the equator, continued long after this to be carried on with great vigor." Woolsey, _International Law_ (1874), § 197, pp. 331-2; _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1816-17, pp. 85-118.] ~1817, Sept. 23. [Great Britain and Spain: Abolition of Trade North of Equator.~ "By the treaty of Madrid, ... Great Britain obtained from Spain, for the sum of four hundred thousand pounds, the immediate abolition of the trade north of the equator, its entire abolition after 1820, and the concession of the same mutual right of search, which the treaty with Portugal had just established." Woolsey, _International Law_ (1874), § 197, p. 332; _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1816-17, pp. 33-74.] ~1817, Dec. 2. President Monroe's Message on Amelia Island, etc.~ "A just regard for the rights and interests of the United States required that they [i.e., the Amelia Island and Galveston pirates] should be suppressed, and orders have been accordingly issued to that effect. The imperious considerations which produced this measure will be explained to the parties whom it may, in any degree, concern." _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. p. 11. ~1817, Dec. 19. Georgia: Act to Dispose of Illegally Imported Slaves.~ "An Act for disposing of any such negro, mulatto, or person of color, who has been or may hereafter be imported or brought into this State in violation of an act of the United States, entitled an act to prohibit the importation of slaves," etc. § 1. The governor by agent shall receive such Negroes, and, § 2. sell them, or, § 3. give them to the Colonization Society to be transported, on condition that the Society reimburse the State for all expense, and transport them at their own cost. Prince, _Digest_, p. 793. ~1818, Jan. 10. Congress (House): Bill to Supplement Act of 1807.~ Mr. Middleton, from the committee on so much of the President's Message as related to the illicit introduction of slaves into the United States from Amelia Island, reported a bill in addition to former acts prohibiting the introduction of slaves into the United States. This was read twice and committed; April 1 it was considered in Committee of the Whole; Mr. Middleton offered a substitute, which was ordered to be laid on table and to be printed; it became the Act of 1819. See below, March 3, 1819. _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 131, 410. ~1818, Jan. 13. President Monroe's Special Message.~ "I have the satisfaction to inform Congress, that the establishment at Amelia Island has been suppressed, and without the effusion of blood. The papers which explain this transaction, I now lay before Congress," etc. _Ibid._, pp. 137-9. ~1818, Feb. 9. Congress (Senate): Bill to Register (?) Slaves.~ "A bill respecting the transportation of persons of color, for sale, or to be held to labor." Passed Senate, dropped in House; similar bill Dec. 9, 1818, also dropped in House. _Senate Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 147, 152, 157, 165, 170, 188, 201, 203, 232, 237; 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 63, 74, 77, 202, 207, 285, 291, 297; _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. p. 332; 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 303, 305, 316. ~1818, April 4. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ Mr. Livermore's resolution:-- "No person shall be held to service or labour as a slave, nor shall slavery be tolerated in any state hereafter admitted into the Union, or made one of the United States of America." Read, and on the question, "Will the House consider the same?" it was determined in the negative. _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 420-1; _Annals of Cong._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1675-6. ~1818, April 20. United States Statute: Act in Addition to Act of 1807.~ "An Act in addition to 'An act to prohibit the introduction [importation] of slaves into any port or place within the jurisdiction of the United States, from and after the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eight,' and to repeal certain parts of the same." _Statutes at Large_, III. 450. For proceedings in Congress, see _Senate Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 243, 304, 315, 333, 338, 340, 348, 377, 386, 388, 391, 403, 406; _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 450, 452, 456, 468, 479, 484, 492,505. ~1818, May 4. [Great Britain and Netherlands: Treaty.~ Right of Search granted for the suppression of the slave-trade. _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1817-18, pp. 125-43.] ~1818, Dec. 19. Georgia: Act of 1817 Reinforced.~ No title found. "_Whereas_ numbers of African slaves have been illegally introduced into the State, in direct violation of the laws of the United States and of this State, _Be it therefore enacted_," etc. Informers are to receive one-tenth of the net proceeds from the sale of illegally imported Africans, "_Provided_, nothing herein contained shall be so construed as to extend farther back than the year 1817." Prince, _Digest_, p. 798. ~1819, Feb. 8. Congress (Senate): Bill in Addition to Former Acts.~ "A bill supplementary to an act, passed the 2d day of March, 1807, entitled," etc. Postponed. _Senate Journal_, 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 234, 244, 311-2, 347. ~1819, March 3. United States Statute: Cruisers Authorized, etc.~ "An Act in addition to the Acts prohibiting the slave trade." _Statutes at Large_, III. 532. For proceedings in Congress, see _Senate Journal_, 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 338, 339, 343, 345, 350, 362; _House Journal_, 15 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 9-19, 42-3, 150, 179, 330, 334, 341, 343, 352. ~1819, Dec. 7. President Monroe's Message.~ "Due attention has likewise been paid to the suppression of the slave trade, in compliance with a law of the last session. Orders have been given to the commanders of all our public ships to seize all vessels navigated under our flag, engaged in that trade, and to bring them in, to be proceeded against, in the manner prescribed by that law. It is hoped that these vigorous measures, supported by like acts by other nations, will soon terminate a commerce so disgraceful to the civilized world." _House Journal_, 16 Cong, 1 sess. p. 18. ~1820, Jan. 19. Congress (House): Proposed Registry of Slaves.~ "On motion of Mr. Cuthbert, "Resolved, That the Committee on the Slave Trade be instructed to enquire into the expediency of establishing a registry of slaves, more effectually to prevent the importation of slaves into the United States, or the territories thereof." No further mention. _Ibid._, p. 150. ~1820, Feb. 5. Congress (House): Proposition on Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Meigs submitted the following preamble and resolution: "Whereas, slavery in the United States is an evil of great and increasing magnitude; one which merits the greatest efforts of this nation to remedy: Therefore, "Resolved, That a committee be appointed to enquire into the expediency of devoting the public lands as a fund for the purpose of, "1st, Employing a naval force competent to the annihilation of the slave trade; "2dly, The emancipation of slaves in the United States; and, "3dly, Colonizing them in such way as shall be conducive to their comfort and happiness, in Africa, their mother country." Read, and, on motion of Walker of North Carolina, ordered to lie on the table. Feb. 7, Mr. Meigs moved that the House now consider the above-mentioned resolution, but it was decided in the negative. Feb. 18, he made a similar motion and proceeded to discussion, but was ruled out of order by the Speaker. He appealed, but the Speaker was sustained, and the House refused to take up the resolution. No further record appears. _Ibid._, pp. 196, 200, 227. ~1820, Feb. 23. Massachusetts: Slavery in Western Territory.~ _"Resolve respecting Slavery":--_ "The Committee of both Houses, who were appointed to consider 'what measures it may be proper for the Legislature of this Commonwealth to adopt, in the expression of their sentiments and views, relative to the interesting subject, now before Congress, of interdicting slavery in the New States, which may be admitted into the Union, beyond the River Mississippi,' respectfully submit the following report: ... "Nor has this question less importance as to its influence on the slave trade. Should slavery be further permitted, an immense new market for slaves would be opened. It is well known that notwithstanding the strictness of our laws, and the vigilance of the government, thousands are now annually imported from Africa," etc. _Massachusetts Resolves_, May, 1819, to February, 1824, pp. 147-51. ~1820, May 12. Congress (House): Resolution for Negotiation.~ "Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That the President of the United States be requested to negociate with all the governments where ministers of the United States are or shall be accredited, on the means of effecting an entire and immediate abolition of the slave trade." Passed House, May 12, 1820; lost in Senate, May 15, 1820. _House Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 497, 518, 520-21, 526; _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 697-700. ~1820, May 15. United States Statute: Slave-Trade made Piracy.~ "An act to continue in force 'An act to protect the commerce of the United States, and punish the crime of piracy,' and also to make further provisions for punishing the crime of piracy." Continued by several statutes until passage of the Act of 1823, _q.v. Statutes at Large_, III. 600. For proceedings in Congress, see _Senate Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 238, 241, 268, 286-7, 314, 331, 346, 350, 409, 412, 417, 422, 424, 425; _House Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 453, 454, 494, 518, 520, 522, 537, 539, 540, 542. There was also a House bill, which was dropped: cf. _House Journal_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 21, 113, 280, 453, 494. ~1820, Nov. 14. President Monroe's Message.~ "In execution of the law of the last session, for the suppression of the slave trade, some of our public ships have also been employed on the coast of Africa, where several captures have already been made of vessels engaged in that disgraceful traffic." _Senate Journal_, 16 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 16-7. ~1821, Feb. 15. Congress (House): Meigs's Resolution.~ Mr. Meigs offered in modified form the resolutions submitted at the last session:-- "Whereas slavery, in the United States, is an evil, acknowledged to be of great and increasing magnitude, ... therefore, "Resolved, That a committee be appointed to inquire into the expediency of devoting five hundred million acres of the public lands, next west of the Mississippi, as a fund for the purpose of, in the "_First place_; Employing a naval force, competent to the annihilation of the slave trade," etc. Question to consider decided in the affirmative, 63 to 50; laid on the table, 66 to 55. _House Journal_, 16 Cong. 2 sess. p. 238; _Annals of Cong._, 16 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 1168-70. ~1821, Dec. 3. President Monroe's Message.~ "Like success has attended our efforts to suppress the slave trade. Under the flag of the United States, and the sanction of their papers, the trade may be considered as entirely suppressed; and, if any of our citizens are engaged in it, under the flag and papers of other powers, it is only from a respect to the rights of those powers, that these offenders are not seized and brought home, to receive the punishment which the laws inflict. If every other power should adopt the same policy, and pursue the same vigorous means for carrying it into effect, the trade could no longer exist." _House Journal_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. p. 22. ~1822, April 12. Congress (House): Proposed Resolution.~ "_Resolved_, That the President of the United States be requested to enter into such arrangements as he may deem suitable and proper, with one or more of the maritime powers of Europe, for the effectual abolition of the slave trade." _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, p. 4; _Annals of Cong._, 17 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1538. ~1822, June 18. Mississippi: Act on Importation, etc.~ "An act, to reduce into one, the several acts, concerning slaves, free negroes, and mulattoes." § 2. Slaves born and resident in the United States, and not criminals, may be imported. § 3. No slave born or resident outside the United States shall be brought in, under penalty of $1,000 per slave. Travellers are excepted. _Revised Code of the Laws of Mississippi_ (Natchez, 1824), p. 369. ~1822, Dec. 3. President Monroe's Message.~ "A cruise has also been maintained on the coast of Africa, when the season would permit, for the suppression of the slave-trade; and orders have been given to the commanders of all our public ships to seize our own vessels, should they find any engaged in that trade, and to bring them in for adjudication." _House Journal_, 17 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 12, 21. ~1823, Jan. 1. Alabama: Act to Dispose of Illegally Imported Slaves.~ "An Act to carry into effect the laws of the United States prohibiting the slave trade." § 1. "_Be it enacted_, ... That the Governor of this state be ... authorized and required to appoint some suitable person, as the agent of the state, to receive all and every slave or slaves or persons of colour, who may have been brought into this state in violation of the laws of the United States, prohibiting the slave trade: _Provided_, that the authority of the said agent is not to extend to slaves who have been condemned and sold." § 2. The agent must give bonds. § 3. "_And be it further enacted_, That the said slaves, when so placed in the possession of the state, as aforesaid, shall be employed on such public work or works, as shall be deemed by the Governor of most value and utility to the public interest." § 4. A part may be hired out to support those employed in public work. § 5. "_And be it further enacted_, That in all cases in which a decree of any court having competent authority, shall be in favor of any or claimant or claimants, the said slaves shall be truly and faithfully, by said agent, delivered to such claimant or claimants: but in case of their condemnation, they shall be sold by such agent for cash to the highest bidder, by giving sixty days notice," etc. _Acts of the Assembly of Alabama, 1822_ (Cahawba, 1823), p. 62. ~1823, Jan. 30. United States Statute: Piracy Act made Perpetual.~ "An Act in addition to 'An act to continue in force "An act to protect the commerce of the United States, and punish the crime of piracy,"'" etc. _Statutes at Large_, III. 510-14, 721, 789. For proceedings in Congress, see _Senate Journal_, 17 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 61, 64, 70, 83, 98, 101, 106, 110, 111, 122, 137; _House Journal_, 17 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 73, 76, 156, 183, 189. ~1823, Feb. 10. Congress (House): Resolution on Slave-Trade.~ Mr. Mercer offered the following resolution:-- "Resolved, That the President of the United States be requested to enter upon, and to prosecute, from time to time, such negotiations with the several maritime powers of Europe and America, as he may deem expedient, for the effectual abolition of the African slave trade, and its ultimate denunciation as piracy, under the law of nations, by the consent of the civilized world." Agreed to Feb. 28; passed Senate. _House Journal_, 17 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 212, 280-82; _Annals of Cong._, 17 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 928, 1147-55. ~1823, March 3. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the support of the navy," etc. "To enable the President of the United States to carry into effect the act" of 1819, $50,000. _Statutes at Large_, III. 763, 764 ~1823. President: Proposed Treaties.~ Letters to various governments in accordance with the resolution of 1823: April 28, to Spain; May 17, to Buenos Ayres; May 27, to United States of Colombia; Aug. 14, to Portugal. See above, Feb. 10, 1823. _House Doc._, 18 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 119. ~1823, June 24. Great Britain: Proposed Treaty.~ Adams, March 31, proposes that the trade be made piracy. Canning, April 8, reminds Adams of the treaty of Ghent and asks for the granting of a mutual Right of Search to suppress the slave-trade. The matter is further discussed until June 24. Minister Rush is empowered to propose a treaty involving the Right of Search, etc. This treaty was substantially the one signed (see below, March 13, 1824), differing principally in the first article. "Article I. The two high contracting Powers, having each separately, by its own laws, subjected their subjects and citizens, who may be convicted of carrying on the illicit traffic in slaves on the coast of Africa, to the penalties of piracy, do hereby agree to use their influence, respectively, with the other maritime and civilized nations of the world, to the end that the said African slave trade may be recognized, and declared to be, piracy, under the law of nations." _House Doc._, 18 Cong, 1 sess. VI. No. 119. ~1824, Feb. 6. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ Mr. Abbot's resolution on persons of color:-- "That no part of the constitution of the United States ought to be construed, or shall be construed to authorize the importation or ingress of any person of color into any one of the United States, contrary to the laws of such state." Read first and second time and committed to the Committee of the Whole. _House Journal_, 18 Cong. 1 sess. p. 208; _Annals of Cong._, 18 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1399. ~1824, March 13. Great Britain: Proposed Treaty of 1824.~ "The Convention:"-- Art. I. "The commanders and commissioned officers of each of the two high contracting parties, duly authorized, under the regulations and instructions of their respective Governments, to cruize on the coasts of Africa, of America, and of the West Indies, for the suppression of the slave trade," shall have the power to seize and bring into port any vessel owned by subjects of the two contracting parties, found engaging in the slave-trade. The vessel shall be taken for trial to the country where she belongs. Art. II. Provides that even if the vessel seized does not belong to a citizen or citizens of either of the two contracting parties, but is chartered by them, she may be seized in the same way as if she belonged to them. Art. III. Requires that in all cases where any vessel of either party shall be boarded by any naval officer of the other party, on suspicion of being concerned in the slave-trade, the officer shall deliver to the captain of the vessel so boarded a certificate in writing, signed by the naval officer, specifying his rank, etc., and the object of his visit. Provision is made for the delivery of ships and papers to the tribunal before which they are brought. Art. IV. Limits the Right of Search, recognized by the Convention, to such investigation as shall be necessary to ascertain the fact whether the said vessel is or is not engaged in the slave-trade. No person shall be taken out of the vessel so visited unless for reasons of health. Art. V. Makes it the duty of the commander of either nation, having captured a vessel of the other under the treaty, to receive unto his custody the vessel captured, and send or carry it into some port of the vessel's own country for adjudication, in which case triplicate declarations are to be signed, etc. Art. VI. Provides that in cases of capture by the officer of either party, on a station where no national vessel is cruising, the captor shall either send or carry his prize to some convenient port of its own country for adjudication, etc. Art. VII. Provides that the commander and crew of the captured vessel shall be proceeded against as pirates, in the ports to which they are brought, etc. Art. VIII. Confines the Right of Search, under this treaty, to such officers of both parties as are especially authorized to execute the laws of their countries in regard to the slave-trade. For every abusive exercise of this right, officers are to be personally liable in costs and damages, etc. Art. IX. Provides that the government of either nation shall inquire into abuses of this Convention and of the laws of the two countries, and inflict on guilty officers the proper punishment. Art. X. Declares that the right, reciprocally conceded by this treaty, is wholly and exclusively founded on the consideration that the two nations have by their laws made the slave-trade piracy, and is not to be taken to affect in any other way the rights of the parties, etc.; it further engages that each power shall use its influence with all other civilized powers, to procure from them the acknowledgment that the slave-trade is piracy under the law of nations. Art. XI. Provides that the ratifications of the treaty shall be exchanged at London within twelve months, or as much sooner as possible. Signed by Mr. Rush, Minister to the Court of St. James, March 13, 1824. The above is a synopsis of the treaty as it was laid before the Senate. It was ratified by the Senate with certain conditions, one of which was that the duration of this treaty should be limited to the pleasure of the two parties on six months' notice; another was that the Right of Search should be limited to the African and West Indian seas: i.e., the word "America" was struck out. This treaty as amended and passed by the Senate (cf. above, p. 141) was rejected by Great Britain. A counter project was suggested by her, but not accepted (cf. above, p. 144). The striking out of the word "America" was declared to be the insuperable objection. _Senate Doc._, 18 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 15-20; _Niles's Register_, 3rd Series, XXVI. 230-2. For proceedings in Senate, see _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. 360-2. ~1824, March 31. [Great Britain: Slave-Trade made Piracy.~ "An Act for the more effectual Suppression of the _African_ Slave Trade." Any person engaging in the slave-trade "shall be deemed and adjudged guilty of Piracy, Felony and Robbery, and being convicted thereof shall suffer Death without Benefit of Clergy, and Loss of Lands, Goods and Chattels, as Pirates, Felons and Robbers upon the Seas ought to suffer," etc. _Statute 5 George IV._, ch. 17; _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. 342.] ~1824, April 16. Congress (House): Bill to Suppress Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Govan, from the committee to which was referred so much of the President's Message as relates to the suppression of the Slave Trade, reported a bill respecting the slave trade; which was read twice, and committed to a Committee of the Whole." § 1. Provided a fine not exceeding $5,000, imprisonment not exceeding 7 years, and forfeiture of ship, for equipping a slaver even for the foreign trade; and a fine not exceeding $3,000, and imprisonment not exceeding 5 years, for serving on board any slaver. _Annals of Cong._, 18 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 2397-8; _House Journal_, 18 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 26, 180, 181, 323, 329, 356, 423. ~1824, May 21. President Monroe's Message on Treaty of 1824.~ _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. 344-6. ~1824, Nov. 6. [Great Britain and Sweden: Treaty.~ Right of Search granted for the suppression of the slave-trade. _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1824-5, pp. 3-28.] ~1824, Nov. 6. Great Britain: Counter Project of 1825.~ Great Britain proposes to conclude the treaty as amended by the Senate, if the word "America" is reinstated in Art. I. (Cf. above, March 13, 1824.) February 16, 1825, the House Committee favors this project; March 2, Addington reminds Adams of this counter proposal; April 6, Clay refuses to reopen negotiations on account of the failure of the Colombian treaty. _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. 367; _House Reports_, 18 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 70; _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 16. ~1824, Dec. 7. President Monroe's Message.~ "It is a cause of serious regret, that no arrangement has yet been finally concluded between the two Governments, to secure, by joint co-operation, the suppression of the slave trade. It was the object of the British Government, in the early stages of the negotiation, to adopt a plan for the suppression, which should include the concession of the mutual right of search by the ships of war of each party, of the vessels of the other, for suspected offenders. This was objected to by this Government, on the principle that, as the right of search was a right of war of a belligerant towards a neutral power, it might have an ill effect to extend it, by treaty, to an offence which had been made comparatively mild, to a time of peace. Anxious, however, for the suppression of this trade, it was thought adviseable, in compliance with a resolution of the House of Representatives, founded on an act of Congress, to propose to the British Government an expedient, which should be free from that objection, and more effectual for the object, by making it piratical.... A convention to this effect was concluded and signed, in London," on the 13th of March, 1824, "by plenipotentiaries duly authorized by both Governments, to the ratification of which certain obstacles have arisen, which are not yet entirely removed." [For the removal of which, the documents relating to the negotiation are submitted for the action of Congress].... "In execution of the laws for the suppression of the slave trade, a vessel has been occasionally sent from that squadron to the coast of Africa, with orders to return thence by the usual track of the slave ships, and to seize any of our vessels which might be engaged in that trade. None have been found, and, it is believed, that none are thus employed. It is well known, however, that the trade still exists under other flags." _House Journal_, 18 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 11, 12, 19, 27, 241; _House Reports_, 18 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 70; Gales and Seaton, _Register of Debates_, I. 625-8, and Appendix, p. 2 ff. ~1825, Feb. 21. United States of Colombia: Proposed Treaty.~ The President sends to the Senate a treaty with the United States of Colombia drawn, as United States Minister Anderson said, similar to that signed at London, with the alterations made by the Senate. March 9, 1825, the Senate rejects this treaty. _Amer. State Papers, Foreign_, V. 729-35. ~1825, Feb. 28. Congress (House): Proposed Resolution on Slave-Trade.~ Mr. Mercer laid on the table the following resolution:-- "_Resolved_, That the President of the United States be requested to enter upon, and prosecute from time to time, such negotiations with the several maritime powers of Europe and America, as he may deem expedient for the effectual abolition of the slave trade, and its ultimate denunciation, as piracy, under the law of nations, by the consent of the civilized world." The House refused to consider the resolution. _House Journal_, 18 Cong. 2 sess. p. 280; Gales and Seaton, _Register of Debates_, I. 697, 736. ~1825, March 3. Congress (House): Proposed Resolution against Right of Search.~ "Mr. Forsyth submitted the following resolution: "_Resolved_, That while this House anxiously desires that the Slave Trade should be, universally, denounced as Piracy, and, as such, should be detected and punished under the law of nations, it considers that it would be highly inexpedient to enter into engagements with any foreign power, by which _all_ the merchant vessels of the United States would be exposed to the inconveniences of any regulation of search, from which any merchant vessels of that foreign power would be exempted." Resolution laid on the table. _House Journal_, 18 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 308-9; Gales and Seaton, _Register of Debates_, I. 739. ~1825, Dec. 6. President Adams's Message.~ "The objects of the West India Squadron have been, to carry into execution the laws for the suppression of the African Slave Trade: for the protection of our commerce against vessels of piratical character.... These objects, during the present year, have been accomplished more effectually than at any former period. The African Slave Trade has long been excluded from the use of our flag; and if some few citizens of our country have continued to set the laws of the Union, as well as those of nature and humanity, at defiance, by persevering in that abominable traffic, it has been only by sheltering themselves under the banners of other nations, less earnest for the total extinction of the trade than ours." _House Journal_, 19 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 20, 96, 296-7, 305, 323, 329, 394-5, 399, 410, 414, 421, 451, 640. ~1826, Feb. 14. Congress (House): Proposition to Repeal Parts of Act of 1819.~ "Mr. Forsyth submitted the following resolutions, viz.: 1. "_Resolved_, That it is expedient to repeal so much of the act of the 3d March, 1819, entitled, 'An act in addition to the acts prohibiting the slave trade,' as provides for the appointment of agents on the coast of Africa. 2. "_Resolved_, That it is expedient so to modify the said act of the 3d of March, 1819, as to release the United States from all obligation to support the negroes already removed to the coast of Africa, and to provide for such a disposition of those taken in slave ships who now are in, or who may be, hereafter, brought into the United States, as shall secure to them a fair opportunity of obtaining a comfortable subsistence, without any aid from the public treasury." Read and laid on the table. _Ibid._, p. 258. ~1826, March 14. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the support of the navy," etc. "For the agency on the coast of Africa, for receiving the negroes," etc., $32,000. _Statutes at Large_, IV. 140, 141. ~1827, March 2. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the support of the Navy," etc. "For the agency on the coast of Africa," etc., $56,710. _Ibid._, W. 206, 208. ~1827, March 11. Texas: Introduction of Slaves Prohibited.~ Constitution of the State of Coahuila and Texas. Preliminary Provisions:-- Art. 13. "From and after the promulgation of the constitution in the capital of each district, no one shall be born a slave in the state, and after six months the introduction of slaves under any pretext shall not be permitted." _Laws and Decrees of Coahuila and Texas_ (Houston, 1839), p. 314. ~1827, Sept. 15. Texas: Decree against Slave-Trade.~ "The Congress of the State of Coahuila and Texas decrees as follows:" Art. 1. All slaves to be registered. Art. 2, 3. Births and deaths to be recorded. Art. 4. "Those who introduce slaves, after the expiration of the term specified in article 13 of the Constitution, shall be subject to the penalties established by the general law of the 13th of July, 1824." _Ibid._, pp. 78-9. ~1828, Feb. 25. Congress (House): Proposed Bill to Abolish African Agency, etc.~ "Mr. McDuffie, from the Committee of Ways and Means, ... reported the following bill: "A bill to abolish the Agency of the United States on the Coast of Africa, to provide other means of carrying into effect the laws prohibiting the slave trade, and for other purposes." This bill was amended so as to become the act of May 24, 1828 (see below). _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 278. ~1828, May 24. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making an appropriation for the suppression of the slave trade." _Statutes at Large_, IV. 302; _House Journal_, 20 Cong. 1 sess., House Bill No. 190. ~1829, Jan. 28. Congress (House): Bill to Amend Act of 1807.~ The Committee on Commerce reported "a bill (No. 399) to amend an act, entitled 'An act to prohibit the importation of slaves,'" etc. Referred to Committee of the Whole. _House Journal_, 20 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 58, 84, 215. Cf. _Ibid._, 20 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 121, 135. ~1829, March 2. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making additional appropriations for the support of the navy," etc. "For the reimbursement of the marshal of Florida for expenses incurred in the case of certain Africans who were wrecked on the coast of the United States, and for the expense of exporting them to Africa," $16,000. _Statutes at Large_, IV. 353, 354. ~1830, April 7. Congress (House): Resolution against Slave-Trade.~ Mr. Mercer reported the following resolution:-- "_Resolved_, That the President of the United States be requested to consult and negotiate with all the Governments where Ministers of the United States are, or shall be accredited, on the means of effecting an entire and immediate abolition of the African slave trade; and especially, on the expediency, with that view, of causing it to be universally denounced as piratical." Referred to Committee of the Whole; no further action recorded. _House Journal_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. p. 512. ~1830, April 7. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Act of March 3, 1819.~ Mr. Mercer, from the committee to which was referred the memorial of the American Colonization Society, and also memorials, from the inhabitants of Kentucky and Ohio, reported with a bill (No. 412) to amend "An act in addition to the acts prohibiting the slave trade," passed March 3, 1819. Read twice and referred to Committee of the Whole. _Ibid._ ~1830, May 31. Congress (Statute): Appropriation.~ "An Act making a re-appropriation of a sum heretofore appropriated for the suppression of the slave trade." _Statutes at Large_, IV. 425; _Senate Journal_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 359, 360, 383; _House Journal_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 624, 808-11. ~1830. [Brazil: Prohibition of Slave-Trade.~ Slave-trade prohibited under severe penalties.] ~1831, 1833. [Great Britain and France: Treaty Granting Right of Search.~ Convention between Great Britain and France granting a mutual limited Right of Search on the East and West coasts of Africa, and on the coasts of the West Indies and Brazil. _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1830-1, p. 641 ff; 1832-3, p. 286 ff.] ~1831, Feb. 16. Congress (House): Proposed Resolution on Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Mercer moved to suspend the rule of the House in regard to motions, for the purpose of enabling himself to submit a resolution requesting the Executive to enter into negotiations with the maritime Powers of Europe, to induce them to enact laws declaring the African slave trade piracy, and punishing it as such." The motion was lost. Gales and Seaton, _Register of Debates_, VII. 726. ~1831, March 2. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the naval service," etc. "For carrying into effect the acts for the suppression of the slave trade," etc., $16,000. _Statutes at Large_, IV. 460, 462. ~1831, March 3. Congress (House): Resolution as to Treaties.~ "Mr. Mercer moved to suspend the rule to enable him to submit the following resolution: "_Resolved_, That the President of the United States be requested to renew, and to prosecute from time to time, such negotiations with the several maritime powers of Europe and America as he may deem expedient for the effectual abolition of the African slave trade, and its ultimate denunciation as piracy, under the laws of nations, by the consent of the civilized world." The rule was suspended by a vote of 108 to 36, and the resolution passed, 118 to 32. _House Journal_, 21 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 426-8. ~1833, Feb. 20. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the naval service," etc. " ... for carrying into effect the acts for the suppression of the slave trade," etc., $5,000. _Statutes at Large_, IV. 614, 615. ~1833, August. Great Britain and France: Proposed Treaty with the United States.~ British and French ministers simultaneously invited the United States to accede to the Convention just concluded between them for the suppression of the slave-trade. The Secretary of State, Mr. M'Lane, deferred answer until the meeting of Congress, and then postponed negotiations on account of the irritable state of the country on the slave question. Great Britain had proposed that "A reciprocal right of search ... be conceded by the United States, limited as to place, and subject to specified restrictions. It is to be employed only in repressing the Slave Trade, and to be exercised under a written and specific authority, conferred on the Commander of the visiting ship." In the act of accession, "it will be necessary that the right of search should be extended to the coasts of the United States," and Great Britain will in turn extend it to the British West Indies. This proposal was finally refused, March 24, 1834, chiefly, as stated, because of the extension of the Right of Search to the coasts of the United States. This part was waived by Great Britain, July 7, 1834. On Sept. 12 the French Minister joined in urging accession. On Oct. 4, 1834, Forsyth states that the determination has "been definitely formed, not to make the United States a party to any Convention on the subject of the Slave Trade." _Parliamentary Papers_, 1835, Vol. LI., _Slave Trade_, Class B., pp. 84-92. ~1833, Dec. 23. Georgia: Slave-Trade Acts Amended.~ "An Act to reform, amend, and consolidate the penal laws of the State of Georgia." 13th Division. "Offences relative to Slaves":-- § 1. "If any person or persons shall bring, import, or introduce into this State, or aid or assist, or knowingly become concerned or interested, in bringing, importing, or introducing into this State, either by land or by water, or in any manner whatever, any slave or slaves, each and every such person or persons so offending, shall be deemed principals in law, and guilty of a high misdemeanor, and ... on conviction, shall be punished by a fine not exceeding five hundred dollars each, for each and every slave, ... and imprisonment and labor in the penitentiary for any time not less than one year, nor longer than four years." Residents, however, may bring slaves for their own use, but must register and swear they are not for sale, hire, mortgage, etc. § 6. Penalty for knowingly receiving such slaves, $500. Slightly amended Dec. 23, 1836, e.g., emigrants were allowed to hire slaves out, etc.; amended Dec. 19, 1849, so as to allow importation of slaves from "any other slave holding State of this Union." Prince, _Digest_, pp. 619, 653, 812; Cobb, _Digest_, II. 1018. ~1834, Jan. 24. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the naval service," etc. "For carrying into effect the acts for the suppression of the slave trade," etc., $5,000. _Statutes at Large_, IV. 670, 671. ~1836, March 17. Texas: African Slave-Trade Prohibited.~ Constitution of the Republic of Texas: General Provisions:-- § 9. All persons of color who were slaves for life before coming to Texas shall remain so. "Congress shall pass no laws to prohibit emigrants from bringing their slaves into the republic with them, and holding them by the same tenure by which such slaves were held in the United States; ... the importation or admission of Africans or negroes into this republic, excepting from the United States of America, is forever prohibited, and declared to be piracy." _Laws of the Republic of Texas_ (Houston, 1838), I. 19. ~1836, Dec. 21. Texas: Slave-Trade made Piracy.~ "An Act supplementary to an act, for the punishment of Crimes and Misdemeanors." § 1. "_Be it enacted_ ..., That if any person or persons shall introduce any African negro or negroes, contrary to the true intent and meaning of the ninth section of the general provisions of the constitution, ... except such as are from the United States of America, and had been held as slaves therein, be considered guilty of piracy; and upon conviction thereof, before any court having cognizance of the same, shall suffer death, without the benefit of clergy." § 2. The introduction of Negroes from the United States of America, except of those legally held as slaves there, shall be piracy. _Ibid._, I. 197. Cf. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 1 sess. No. 34, p. 42. ~1837, March 3. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the naval service," etc. "For carrying into effect the acts for the suppression of the slave trade," etc., $11,413.57. _Statutes at Large_, V. 155, 157. ~1838, March 19. Congress (Senate): Slave-Trade with Texas, etc.~ "Mr. Morris submitted the following motion for consideration: "_Resolved_, That the Committee on the Judiciary be instructed to inquire whether the present laws of the United States, on the subject of the slave trade, will prohibit that trade being carried on between citizens of the United States and citizens of the Republic of Texas, either by land or by sea; and whether it would be lawful in vessels owned by citizens of that Republic, and not lawful in vessels owned by citizens of this, or lawful in both, and by citizens of both countries; and also whether a slave carried from the United States into a foreign country, and brought back, on returning into the United States, is considered a free person, or is liable to be sent back, if demanded, as a slave, into that country from which he or she last came; and also whether any additional legislation by Congress is necessary on any of these subjects." March 20, the motion of Mr. Walker that this resolution "lie on the table," was determined in the affirmative, 32 to 9. _Senate Journal_, 25 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 297-8, 300. ~1839, Feb. 5. Congress (Senate): Bill to Amend Slave-Trade Acts.~ "Mr. Strange, on leave, and in pursuance of notice given, introduced a bill to amend an act entitled an act to prohibit the importation of slaves into any port in the jurisdiction of the United States; which was read twice, and referred to the Committee on Commerce." March 1, the Committee was discharged from further consideration of the bill. _Congressional Globe_, 25 Cong. 3 sess. p. 172; _Senate Journal_, 25 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 200, 313. ~1839, Dec. 24. President Van Buren's Message.~ "It will be seen by the report of the Secretary of the navy respecting the disposition of our ships of war, that it has been deemed necessary to station a competent force on the coast of Africa, to prevent a fraudulent use of our flag by foreigners. "Recent experience has shown that the provisions in our existing laws which relate to the sale and transfer of American vessels while abroad, are extremely defective. Advantage has been taken of these defects to give to vessels wholly belonging to foreigners, and navigating the ocean, an apparent American ownership. This character has been so well simulated as to afford them comparative security in prosecuting the slave trade, a traffic emphatically denounced in our statutes, regarded with abhorrence by our citizens, and of which the effectual suppression is nowhere more sincerely desired than in the United States. These circumstances make it proper to recommend to your early attention a careful revision of these laws, so that ... the integrity and honor of our flag may be carefully preserved." _House Journal_, 26 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 117-8. ~1840, Jan. 3. Congress (Senate): Bill to Amend Act of 1807.~ "Agreeably to notice, Mr. Strange asked and obtained leave to bring in a bill (Senate, No. 123) to amend an act entitled 'An act to prohibit the importation of slaves into any port or place within the jurisdiction of the United States from and after the 1st day of January, in the year 1808,' approved the 2d day of March, 1807; which was read the first and second times, by unanimous consent, and referred to the Committee on the Judiciary." Jan. 8, it was reported without amendment; May 11, it was considered, and, on motion by Mr. King, "_Ordered_, That it lie on the table." _Senate Journal_, 26 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 73, 87, 363. ~1840, May 4. Congress (Senate): Bill on Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Davis, from the Committee on Commerce, reported a bill (Senate, No. 335) making further provision to prevent the abuse of the flag of the United States, and the use of unauthorized papers in the foreign slavetrade, and for other purposes." This passed the Senate, but was dropped in the House. _Ibid._, pp. 356, 359, 440, 442; _House Journal_, 26 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1138, 1228, 1257. ~1841, June 1. Congress (House): President Tyler's Message.~ "I shall also, at the proper season, invite your attention to the statutory enactments for the suppression of the slave trade, which may require to be rendered more efficient in their provisions. There is reason to believe that the traffic is on the increase. Whether such increase is to be ascribed to the abolition of slave labor in the British possessions in our vicinity, and an attendant diminution in the supply of those articles which enter into the general consumption of the world, thereby augmenting the demand from other quarters, ... it were needless to inquire. The highest considerations of public honor, as well as the strongest promptings of humanity, require a resort to the most vigorous efforts to suppress the trade." _House Journal_, 27 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 31, 184. ~1841, Dec. 7. President Tyler's Message.~ Though the United States is desirous to suppress the slave-trade, she will not submit to interpolations into the maritime code at will by other nations. This government has expressed its repugnance to the trade by several laws. It is a matter for deliberation whether we will enter upon treaties containing mutual stipulations upon the subject with other governments. The United States will demand indemnity for all depredations by Great Britain. "I invite your attention to existing laws for the suppression of the African slave trade, and recommend all such alterations as may give to them greater force and efficacy. That the American flag is grossly abused by the abandoned and profligate of other nations is but too probable. Congress has, not long since, had this subject under its consideration, and its importance well justifies renewed and anxious attention." _House Journal_, 27 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 14-5, 86, 113. ~1841, Dec. 20. [Great Britain, Austria, Russia, Prussia, and France: Quintuple Treaty.]~ _British and Foreign State Papers_, 1841-2, p. 269 ff. ~1842, Feb. 15. Right of Search: Cass's Protest.~ Cass writes to Webster, that, considering the fact that the signing of the Quintuple Treaty would oblige the participants to exercise the Right of Search denied by the United States, or to make a change in the hitherto recognized law of nations, he, on his own responsibility, addressed the following protest to the French Minister of Foreign Affairs, M. Guizot:-- "LEGATION OF THE UNITED STATES, "PARIS, FEBRUARY 13, 1842. "SIR: The recent signature of a treaty, having for its object the suppression of the African slave trade, by five of the powers of Europe, and to which France is a party, is a fact of such general notoriety that it may be assumed as the basis of any diplomatic representations which the subject may fairly require." The United States is no party to this treaty. She denies the Right of Visitation which England asserts. [Quotes from the presidential message of Dec. 7, 1841.] This principle is asserted by the treaty. " ... The moral effect which such a union of five great powers, two of which are eminently maritime, but three of which have perhaps never had a vessel engaged in that traffic, is calculated to produce upon the United States, and upon other nations who, like them, may be indisposed to these combined movements, though it may be regretted, yet furnishes no just cause of complaint. But the subject assumes another aspect when they are told by one of the parties that their vessels are to be forcibly entered and examined, in order to carry into effect these stipulations. Certainly the American Government does not believe that the high powers, contracting parties to this treaty, have any wish to compel the United States, by force, to adopt their measures to its provisions, or to adopt its stipulations ...; and they will see with pleasure the prompt disavowal made by yourself, sir, in the name of your country, ... of any intentions of this nature. But were it otherwise, ... They would prepare themselves with apprehension, indeed, but without dismay--with regret, but with firmness--for one of those desperate struggles which have sometimes occurred in the history of the world." If, as England says, these treaties cannot be executed without visiting United States ships, then France must pursue the same course. It is hoped, therefore, that his Majesty will, before signing this treaty, carefully examine the pretensions of England and their compatibility with the law of nations and the honor of the United States. _Senate Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. II. No. 52, and IV. No. 223; 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377, pp. 192-5. ~1842, Feb. 26. Mississippi: Resolutions on Creole Case.~ The following resolutions were referred to the Committee on Foreign Affairs in the United States Congress, House of Representatives, May 10, 1842: "Whereas, the right of search has never been yielded to Great Britain," and the brig Creole has not been surrendered by the British authorities, etc., therefore, § 1. "_Be it resolved by the Legislature of the State of Mississippi_, That ... the right of search cannot be conceded to Great Britain without a manifest servile submission, unworthy a free nation.... § 2. "_Resolved_, That any attempt to detain and search our vessels, by British cruisers, should be held and esteemed an unjustifiable outrage on the part of the Queen's Government; and that any such outrage, which may have occurred since Lord Aberdeen's note to our envoy at the Court of St. James, of date October thirteen, eighteen hundred and forty-one, (if any,) may well be deemed, by our Government, just cause of war." § 3. "_Resolved_, That the Legislature of the State, in view of the late murderous insurrection of the slaves on board the Creole, their reception in a British port, the absolute connivance at their crimes, manifest in the protection extended to them by the British authorities, most solemnly declare their firm conviction that, if the conduct of those authorities be submitted to, compounded for by the payment of money, or in any other manner, or atoned for in any mode except by the surrender of the actual criminals to the Federal Government, and the delivery of the other identical slaves to their rightful owner or owners, or his or their agents, the slaveholding States would have most just cause to apprehend that the American flag is powerless to protect American property; that the Federal Government is not sufficiently energetic in the maintenance and preservation of their peculiar rights; and that these rights, therefore, are in imminent danger." § 4. _Resolved_, That restitution should be demanded "at all hazards." _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 215. ~1842, March 21. Congress (House): Giddings's Resolutions.~ Mr. Giddings moved the following resolutions:-- § 5. "_Resolved_, That when a ship belonging to the citizens of any State of this Union leaves the waters and territory of such State, and enters upon the high seas, the persons on board cease to be subject to the slave laws of such State, and therefore are governed in their relations to each other by, and are amenable to, the laws of the United States." § 6. _Resolved_, That the slaves in the brig Creole are amenable only to the laws of the United States. § 7. _Resolved_, That those slaves by resuming their natural liberty violated no laws of the United States. § 8. _Resolved_, That all attempts to re-enslave them are unconstitutional, etc. Moved that these resolutions lie on the table; defeated, 53 to 125. Mr. Giddings withdrew the resolutions. Moved to censure Mr. Giddings, and he was finally censured. _House Journal_, 27 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 567-80. ~1842, May 10. Congress (House): Remonstrance of Mississippi against Right of Search.~ "Mr. Gwin presented resolutions of the Legislature of the State of Mississippi, against granting the right of search to Great Britain for the purpose of suppressing the African slave trade; urging the Government to demand of the British Government redress and restitution in relation to the case of the brig Creole and the slaves on board." Referred to the Committee on Foreign Affairs. _House Journal_, 27 Cong. 2 sess. p. 800. ~1842, Aug. 4. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "An Act making appropriations for the naval service," etc. "For carrying into effect the acts for the suppression of the slave trade," etc. $10,543.42. _Statutes at Large_, V. 500, 501. ~1842, Nov. 10. Joint-Cruising Treaty with Great Britain.~ "Treaty to settle and define boundaries; for the final suppression of the African slave-trade; and for the giving up of criminals fugitive from justice. Concluded August 9, 1842; ratifications exchanged at London October 13, 1842; proclaimed November 10, 1842." Articles VIII., and IX. Ratified by the Senate by a vote of 39 to 9, after several unsuccessful attempts to amend it. _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (1889), pp. 436-7; _Senate Exec. Journal_, VI. 118-32. ~1842, Dec. 7. President Tyler's Message.~ The treaty of Ghent binds the United States and Great Britain to the suppression of the slave-trade. The Right of Search was refused by the United States, and our Minister in France for that reason protested against the Quintuple Treaty; his conduct had the approval of the administration. On this account the eighth article was inserted, causing each government to keep a flotilla in African waters to enforce the laws. If this should be done by all the powers, the trade would be swept from the ocean. _House Journal_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 16-7. ~1843, Feb. 22. Congress (Senate): Appropriation Opposed.~ Motion by Mr. Benton, during debate on naval appropriations, to strike out appropriation "for the support of Africans recaptured on the coast of Africa or elsewhere, and returned to Africa by the armed vessels of the United States, $5,000." Lost; similar proposition by Bagby, lost. Proposition to strike out appropriation for squadron, lost. March 3, bill becomes a law, with appropriation for Africans, but without that for squadron. _Congressional Globe_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 328, 331-6; _Statutes at Large_, V. 615. ~1845, Feb. 20. President Tyler's Special Message to Congress.~ Message on violations of Brazilian slave-trade laws by Americans. _House Journal_, 28 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 425, 463; _House Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 148. Cf. _Ibid._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 43. ~1846, Aug. 10. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ "For carrying into effect the acts for the suppression of the slave trade, including the support of recaptured Africans, and their removal to their country, twenty-five thousand dollars." _Statutes at Large_, IX. 96. ~1849, Dec. 4. President Taylor's Message.~ "Your attention is earnestly invited to an amendment of our existing laws relating to the African slave-trade, with a view to the effectual suppression of that barbarous traffic. It is not to be denied that this trade is still, in part, carried on by means of vessels built in the United States, and owned or navigated by some of our citizens." _House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 5, pp. 7-8. ~1850, Aug. 1. Congress (House): Bill for War Steamers.~ "A bill (House, No. 367) to establish a line of war steamers to the coast of Africa for the suppression of the slave trade and the promotion of commerce and colonization." Read twice, and referred to Committee of the Whole. _House Journal_, 31 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1022, 1158, 1217. ~1850, Dec. 16. Congress (House): Treaty of Washington.~ "Mr. Burt, by unanimous consent, introduced a joint resolution (No. 28) 'to terminate the eighth article of the treaty between the United States and Great Britain concluded at Washington the ninth day of August, 1842.'" Read twice, and referred to the Committee on Naval Affairs. _Ibid._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. p. 64. ~1851, Jan. 22. Congress (Senate): Resolution on Sea Letters.~ "The following resolution, submitted by Mr. Clay the 20th instant, came up for consideration:-- "_Resolved_, That the Committee on Commerce be instructed to inquire into the expediency of making more effectual provision by law to prevent the employment of American vessels and American seamen in the African slave trade, and especially as to the expediency of granting sea letters or other evidence of national character to American vessels clearing out of the ports of the empire of Brazil for the western coast of Africa." Agreed to. _Congressional Globe_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 304-9; _Senate Journal_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 95, 102-3. ~1851, Feb. 19. Congress (Senate): Bill on Slave-Trade.~ "A bill (Senate, No. 472) concerning the intercourse and trade of vessels of the United States with certain places on the eastern and western coasts of Africa, and for other purposes." Read once. _Senate Journal_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 42, 45, 84, 94, 159, 193-4; _Congressional Globe_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 246-7. ~1851, Dec. 3. Congress (House): Bill to Amend Act of 1807.~ Mr. Giddings gave notice of a bill to repeal §§ 9 and 10 of the act to prohibit the importation of slaves, etc. from and after Jan. 1, 1808. _House Journal_, 32 Cong. 1 sess. p. 42. Cf. _Ibid._, 33 Cong. 1 sess. p. 147. ~1852, Feb. 5. Alabama: Illegal Importations.~ By code approved on this date:-- §§ 2058-2062. If slaves have been imported contrary to law, they are to be sold, and one fourth paid to the agent or informer and the residue to the treasury. An agent is to be appointed to take charge of such slaves, who is to give bond. Pending controversy, he may hire the slaves out. Ormond, _Code of Alabama_, pp. 392-3. ~1853, March 3. Congress (Senate): Appropriation Proposed.~ A bill making appropriations for the naval service for the year ending June 30, 1854. Mr. Underwood offered the following amendment:-- "For executing the provisions of the act approved 3d of March, 1819, entitled 'An act in addition to the acts prohibiting the slave trade,' $20,000." Amendment agreed to, and bill passed. It appears, however, to have been subsequently amended in the House, and the appropriation does not stand in the final act. _Congressional Globe_, 32 Cong. 2 sess. p. 1072; _Statutes at Large_, X. 214. ~1854, May 22. Congress (Senate): West India Slave-Trade.~ Mr. Clayton presented the following resolution, which was unanimously agreed to:-- "_Resolved_, That the Committee on Foreign Relations be instructed to inquire into the expediency of providing by law for such restrictions on the power of American consuls residing in the Spanish West India islands to issue sea letters on the transfer of American vessels in those islands, as will prevent the abuse of the American flag in protecting persons engaged in the African slave trade." June 26, 1854, this committee reported "a bill (Senate, No. 416) for the more effectual suppression of the slave-trade in American built vessels." Passed Senate, postponed in House. _Senate Journal_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 404, 457-8, 472-3, 476; _House Journal_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1093, 1332-3; _Congressional Globe_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1257-61, 1511-3, 1591-3, 2139. ~1854, May 29. Congress (Senate): Treaty of Washington.~ _Resolved_, "that, in the opinion of the Senate, it is expedient, and in conformity with the interests and sound policy of the United States, that the eighth article of the treaty between this government and Great Britain, of the 9th of August, 1842, should be abrogated." Introduced by Slidell, and favorably reported from Committee on Foreign Relations in Executive Session, June 13, 1854. _Senate Journal_, 34 Cong. 1-2 sess. pp. 396, 695-8; _Senate Reports_, 34 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 195. ~1854, June 21. Congress (Senate): Bill Regulating Navigation.~ "Mr. Seward asked and obtained leave to bring in a bill (Senate, No. 407) to regulate navigation to the coast of Africa in vessels owned by citizens of the United States, in certain cases; which was read and passed to a second reading." June 22, ordered to be printed. _Senate Journal_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 448, 451; _Congressional Globe_, 33 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1456, 1461, 1472. ~1854, June 26. Congress (Senate): Bill to Suppress Slave-Trade.~ "A bill for the more effectual suppression of the slave trade in American built vessels." See references to May 22, 1854, above. ~1856, June 23. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Act of 1818.~ Notice given of a bill to amend the Act of April 20, 1818. _House Journal_, 34 Cong. 1 sess. II. 1101. ~1856, Aug. 18. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the Act of March 3, 1819, and subsequent acts, $8,000. _Statutes at Large_, XI. 90. ~1856, Nov. 24. South Carolina: Governor's Message.~ Governor Adams, in his annual message to the legislature, said:-- "It is apprehended that the opening of this trade [_i.e._, the slave-trade] will lessen the value of slaves, and ultimately destroy the institution. It is a sufficient answer to point to the fact, that unrestricted immigration has not diminished the value of labor in the Northwestern section of the confederacy. The cry there is, want of labor, notwithstanding capital has the pauperism of the old world to press into its grinding service. If we cannot supply the demand for slave labor, then we must expect to be supplied with a species of labor we do not want, and which is, from the very nature of things, antagonistic to our institutions. It is much better that our drays should be driven by slaves--that our factories should be worked by slaves--that our hotels should be served by slaves--that our locomotives should be manned by slaves, than that we should be exposed to the introduction, from any quarter, of a population alien to us by birth, training, and education, and which, in the process of time, must lead to that conflict between capital and labor, 'which makes it so difficult to maintain free institutions in all wealthy and highly civilized nations where such institutions as ours do not exist.' In all slaveholding States, true policy dictates that the superior race should direct, and the inferior perform all menial service. Competition between the white and black man for this service, may not disturb Northern sensibility, but it does not exactly suit our latitude." _South Carolina House Journal_, 1856, p. 36; Cluskey, _Political Text-Book_, 14 edition, p. 585. ~1856, Dec. 15. Congress (House): Reopening of Slave-Trade.~ "_Resolved_, That this House of Representatives regards all suggestions and propositions of every kind, by whomsoever made, for a revival of the African slave trade, as shocking to the moral sentiment of the enlightened portion of mankind; and that any action on the part of Congress conniving at or legalizing that horrid and inhuman traffic would justly subject the government and citizens of the United States to the reproach and execration of all civilized and Christian people throughout the world." Offered by Mr. Etheridge; agreed to, 152 to 57. _House Journal_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 105-11; _Congressional Globe_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 123-5, and Appendix, pp. 364-70. ~1856, Dec. 15. Congress (House): Reopening of Slave-Trade.~ "_Resolved_, That it is inexpedient to repeal the laws prohibiting the African slave trade." Offered by Mr. Orr; not voted upon. _Congressional Globe_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. p. 123. ~1856, Dec. 15. Congress (House): Reopening of Slave-Trade.~ "_Resolved_, That it is inexpedient, unwise, and contrary to the settled policy of the United States, to repeal the laws prohibiting the African slave trade." Offered by Mr. Orr; agreed to, 183 to 8. _House Journal_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 111-3; _Congressional Globe_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 125-6. ~1856, Dec. 15. Congress (House): Reopening of Slave-Trade.~ "_Resolved_, That the House of Representatives, expressing, as they believe, public opinion both North and South, are utterly opposed to the reopening of the slave trade." Offered by Mr. Boyce; not voted upon. _Congressional Globe_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. p. 125. ~1857. South Carolina: Report of Legislative Committee.~ Special committee of seven on the slave-trade clause in the Governor's message report: majority report of six members, favoring the reopening of the African slave-trade; minority report of Pettigrew, opposing it. _Report of the Special Committee_, etc., published in 1857. ~1857, March 3. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the Act of March 3, 1819, and subsequent acts, $8,000. _Statutes at Large_, XI. 227; _House Journal_, 34 Cong. 3 sess. p. 397. Cf. _House Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 3 sess. IX. No. 70. ~1858, March (?). Louisiana: Bill to Import Africans.~ Passed House; lost in Senate by two votes. Cf. _Congressional Globe_, 35 Cong. 1 sess. p. 1362. ~1858, Dec. 6. President Buchanan's Message.~ "The truth is, that Cuba in its existing colonial condition, is a constant source of injury and annoyance to the American people. It is the only spot in the civilized world where the African slave trade is tolerated; and we are bound by treaty with Great Britain to maintain a naval force on the coast of Africa, at much expense both of life and treasure, solely for the purpose of arresting slavers bound to that island. The late serious difficulties between the United States and Great Britain respecting the right of search, now so happily terminated, could never have arisen if Cuba had not afforded a market for slaves. As long as this market shall remain open, there can be no hope for the civilization of benighted Africa.... "It has been made known to the world by my predecessors that the United States have, on several occasions, endeavored to acquire Cuba from Spain by honorable negotiation. If this were accomplished, the last relic of the African slave trade would instantly disappear. We would not, if we could, acquire Cuba in any other manner. This is due to our national character.... This course we shall ever pursue, unless circumstances should occur, which we do not now anticipate, rendering a departure from it clearly justifiable, under the imperative and overruling law of self-preservation." _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 2, pp. 14-5. See also _Ibid._, pp. 31-3. ~1858, Dec. 23. Congress (House): Resolution on Slave-Trade.~ On motion of Mr. Farnsworth, "_Resolved_, That the Committee on Naval Affairs be requested to inquire and report to this House if any, and what, further legislation is necessary on the part of the United States to fully carry out and perform the stipulations contained in the eighth article of the treaty with Great Britain (known as the 'Ashburton treaty') for the suppression of the slave trade." _House Journal_, 35 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 115-6. ~1859, Jan. 5. Congress (Senate): Resolution on Slave-Trade.~ On motion of Mr. Seward, Dec. 21, 1858, "_Resolved_, That the Committee on the Judiciary inquire whether any amendments to existing laws ought to be made for the suppression of the African slave trade." _Senate Journal_, 35 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 80, 108, 115. ~1859, Jan. 13. Congress (Senate): Bill on Slave-Trade.~ Mr. Seward introduced "a bill (Senate, No. 510) in addition to the acts which prohibit the slave trade." Referred to committee, reported, and dropped. _Ibid._, pp. 134, 321. ~1859, Jan. 31. Congress (House): Reopening of Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Kilgore moved that the rules be suspended, so as to enable him to submit the following preamble and resolutions, viz: "Whereas the laws prohibiting the African slave trade have become a topic of discussion with newspaper writers and political agitators, many of them boldly denouncing these laws as unwise in policy and disgraceful in their provisions, and insisting on the justice and propriety of their repeal, and the revival of the odious traffic in African slaves; and whereas recent demonstrations afford strong reasons to apprehend that said laws are to be set at defiance, and their violation openly countenanced and encouraged by a portion of the citizens of some of the States of this Union; and whereas it is proper in view of said facts that the sentiments of the people's representatives in Congress should be made public in relation thereto: Therefore-- "_Resolved_, That while we recognize no right on the part of the federal government, or any other law-making power, save that of the States wherein it exists, to interfere with or disturb the institution of domestic slavery where it is established or protected by State legislation, we do hold that Congress has power to prohibit the foreign traffic, and that no legislation can be too thorough in its measures, nor can any penalty known to the catalogue of modern punishment for crime be too severe against a traffic so inhuman and unchristian. "_Resolved_, That the laws in force against said traffic are founded upon the broadest principles of philanthropy, religion, and humanity; that they should remain unchanged, except so far as legislation may be needed to render them more efficient; that they should be faithfully and promptly executed by our government, and respected by all good citizens. "_Resolved_, That the Executive should be sustained and commended for any proper efforts whenever and wherever made to enforce said laws, and to bring to speedy punishment the wicked violators thereof, and all their aiders and abettors." Failed of the two-thirds vote necessary to suspend the rules--the vote being 115 to 84--and was dropped. _House Journal_, 35 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 298-9. ~1859, March 3. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the Act of March 3, 1819, and subsequent acts, and to pay expenses already incurred, $75,000. _Statutes at Large_, XI. 404. ~1859, Dec. 19. President Buchanan's Message.~ "All lawful means at my command have been employed, and shall continue to be employed, to execute the laws against the African slave trade. After a most careful and rigorous examination of our coasts, and a thorough investigation of the subject, we have not been able to discover that any slaves have been imported into the United States except the cargo by the Wanderer, numbering between three and four hundred. Those engaged in this unlawful enterprise have been rigorously prosecuted, but not with as much success as their crimes have deserved. A number of them are still under prosecution. [Here follows a history of our slave-trade legislation.] "These acts of Congress, it is believed, have, with very rare and insignificant exceptions, accomplished their purpose. For a period of more than half a century there has been no perceptible addition to the number of our domestic slaves.... Reopen the trade, and it would be difficult to determine whether the effect would be more deleterious on the interests of the master, or on those of the native born slave, ..." _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 5-8. ~1860, March 20. Congress (Senate): Proposed Resolution.~ "Mr. Wilson submitted the following resolution; which was considered, by unanimous consent, and agreed to:-- "_Resolved_, That the Committee on the Judiciary be instructed to inquire into the expediency of so amending the laws of the United States in relation to the suppression of the African slave trade as to provide a penalty of imprisonment for life for a participation in such trade, instead of the penalty of forfeiture of life, as now provided; and also an amendment of such laws as will include in the punishment for said offense all persons who fit out or are in any way connected with or interested in fitting out expeditions or vessels for the purpose of engaging in such slave trade." _Senate Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. p. 274. ~1860, March 20. Congress (Senate): Right of Search.~ "Mr. Wilson asked, and by unanimous consent obtained, leave to bring in a joint resolution (Senate, No. 20) to secure the right of search on the coast of Africa, for the more effectual suppression of the African slave trade." Read twice, and referred to Committee on Foreign Relations. _Ibid._ ~1860, March 20. Congress (Senate): Steam Vessels for Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Wilson asked, and by unanimous consent obtained, leave to bring in a bill (Senate, No. 296) for the construction of five steam screw sloops-of-war, for service on the African coast." Read twice, and referred to Committee on Naval Affairs; May 23, reported with an amendment. _Ibid._, pp. 274, 494-5. ~1860 March 26. Congress (House): Proposed Resolutions.~ "Mr. Morse submitted ... the following resolutions; which were read and committed to the Committee of the Whole House on the state of the Union, viz: "_Resolved_, That for the more effectual suppression of the African slave trade the treaty of 1842 ..., requiring each country to keep _eighty_ guns on the coast of Africa for that purpose, should be so changed as to require a specified and sufficient number of small steamers and fast sailing brigs or schooners to be kept on said coast.... "_Resolved_, That as the African slave trade appears to be rapidly increasing, some effective mode of identifying the nationality of a vessel on the coast of Africa suspected of being in the slave trade or of wearing false colors should be immediately adopted and carried into effect by the leading maritime nations of the earth; and that the government of the United States has thus far, by refusing to aid in establishing such a system, shown a strange neglect of one of the best means of suppressing said trade. "_Resolved_, That the African slave trade is against the moral sentiment of mankind and a crime against human nature; and that as the most highly civilized nations have made it a criminal offence or piracy under their own municipal laws, it ought at once and without hesitation to be declared a crime by the code of international law; and that ... the President be requested to open negotiations on this subject with the leading powers of Europe." ... _House Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. I. 588-9. ~1860, April 16. Congress (Senate): Bill on Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Wilson asked, and by unanimous consent obtained, leave to bring in a bill (Senate, No. 408) for the more effectual suppression of the slave trade." Bill read twice, and ordered to lie on the table; May 21, referred to Committee on the Judiciary, and printed. _Senate Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 394, 485; _Congressional Globe_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 1721, 2207-11. ~1860, May 21. Congress (House): Buyers of Imported Negroes.~ "Mr. Wells submitted the following resolution, and debate arising thereon, it lies over under the rule, viz: "_Resolved_, That the Committee on the Judiciary be instructed to report forthwith a bill providing that any person purchasing any negro or other person imported into this country in violation of the laws for suppressing the slave trade, shall not by reason of said purchase acquire any title to said negro or person; and where such purchase is made with a knowledge that such negro or other person has been so imported, shall forfeit not less than one thousand dollars, and be punished by imprisonment for a term not less than six months." _House Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. II. 880. ~1860, May 26. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the Act of March 3, 1819, and subsequent acts, $40,000. _Statutes at Large_, XII. 21. ~1860, June 16. United States Statute: Additional Act to Act of 1819.~ "An Act to amend an Act entitled 'An Act in addition to the Acts Prohibiting the Slave Trade.'" _Ibid._, XII. 40-1; _Senate Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess., Senate Bill No. 464. ~1860, July 11. Great Britain: Proposed Co-operation.~ Lord John Russell suggested for the suppression of the trade:-- "1st. A systematic plan of cruising on the coast of Cuba by the vessels of Great Britain, Spain, and the United States. "2d. Laws of registration and inspection in the Island of Cuba, by which the employment of slaves, imported contrary to law, might be detected by the Spanish authorities. "3d. A plan of emigration from China, regulated by the agents of European nations, in conjunction with the Chinese authorities." President Buchanan refused to co-operate on this plan. _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 7, pp. 441-3, 446-8. ~1860, Dec. 3. President Buchanan's Message.~ "It is with great satisfaction I communicate the fact that since the date of my last annual message not a single slave has been imported into the United States in violation of the laws prohibiting the African slave trade. This statement is founded upon a thorough examination and investigation of the subject. Indeed, the spirit which prevailed some time since among a portion of our fellow-citizens in favor of this trade seems to have entirely subsided." _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, p. 24. ~1860, Dec. 12. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ Mr. John Cochrane's resolution:-- "The migration or importation of slaves into the United States or any of the Territories thereof, from any foreign country, is hereby prohibited." _House Journal_, 36 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 61-2; _Congressional Globe_, 36 Cong. 2 sess. p. 77. ~1860, Dec. 24. Congress (Senate): Bill on Slave-Trade.~ "Mr. Wilson asked, and by unanimous consent obtained, leave to bring in a bill (Senate, No. 529) for the more effectual suppression of the slave trade." Read twice, and referred to Committee on the Judiciary; not mentioned again. _Senate Journal_, 36 Cong. 2 sess. p. 62; _Congressional Globe_, 36 Cong. 2 sess. p. 182. ~1861, Jan. 7. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ Mr. Etheridge's resolution:-- § 5. "The migration or importation of persons held to service or labor for life, or a term of years, into any of the States, or the Territories belonging to the United States, is perpetually prohibited; and Congress shall pass all laws necessary to make said prohibition effective." _Congressional Globe_, 36 Cong. 2 sess. p. 279. ~1861, Jan. 23. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ Resolution of Mr. Morris of Pennsylvania:--"Neither Congress nor a Territorial Legislature shall make any law respecting slavery or involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime; but Congress may pass laws for the suppression of the African slave trade, and the rendition of fugitives from service or labor in the States." Mr. Morris asked to have it printed, that he might at the proper time move it as an amendment to the report of the select committee of thirty-three. It was ordered to be printed. _Ibid._, p. 527. ~1861, Feb. 1. Congress (House): Proposition to Amend Constitution.~ Resolution of Mr. Kellogg of Illinois:-- § 16. "The migration or importation of persons held to service or involuntary servitude into any State, Territory, or place within the United States, from any place or country beyond the limits of the United States or Territories thereof, is forever prohibited." Considered Feb. 27, 1861, and lost. _Ibid._, pp. 690, 1243, 1259-60. ~1861, Feb. 8. Confederate States of America: Importation Prohibited.~ Constitution for the Provisional Government of the Confederate States of America, Article I. Section 7:-- "1. The importation of African negroes from any foreign country other than the slave-holding States of the United States, is hereby forbidden; and Congress are required to pass such laws as shall effectually prevent the same. "2. The Congress shall also have power to prohibit the introduction of slaves from any State not a member of this Confederacy." March 11, 1861, this article was placed in the permanent Constitution. The first line was changed so as to read "negroes of the African race." _C.S.A. Statutes at Large, 1861-2_, pp. 3, 15. ~1861, Feb. 9. Confederate States of America: Statutory Prohibition.~ "_Be it enacted by the Confederate States of America in Congress assembled_, That all the laws of the United States of America in force and in use in the Confederate States of America on the first day of November last, and not inconsistent with the Constitution of the Confederate States, be and the same are hereby continued in force until altered or repealed by the Congress." _Ibid._, p. 27. ~1861, Feb. 19. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To supply deficiencies in the fund hitherto appropriated to carry out the Act of March 3, 1819, and subsequent acts, $900,000. _Statutes at Large_, XII. 132. ~1861, March 2. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the Act of March 3, 1819, and subsequent acts, and to provide compensation for district attorneys and marshals, $900,000. _Ibid._, XII. 218-9. ~1861, Dec. 3. President Lincoln's Message.~ "The execution of the laws for the suppression of the African slave trade has been confided to the Department of the Interior. It is a subject of gratulation that the efforts which have been made for the suppression of this inhuman traffic have been recently attended with unusual success. Five vessels being fitted out for the slave trade have been seized and condemned. Two mates of vessels engaged in the trade, and one person in equipping a vessel as a slaver, have been convicted and subjected to the penalty of fine and imprisonment, and one captain, taken with a cargo of Africans on board his vessel, has been convicted of the highest grade of offence under our laws, the punishment of which is death." _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, p. 13. ~1862, Jan. 27. Congress (Senate): Bill on Slave-Trade.~ "Agreeably to notice Mr. Wilson, of Massachusetts, asked and obtained leave to bring in a bill (Senate, No. 173), for the more effectual suppression of the slave trade." Read twice, and referred to Committee on the Judiciary; Feb. 11, 1863, reported adversely, and postponed indefinitely. _Senate Journal_, 37 Cong. 2 sess. p. 143; 37 Cong. 3 sess. pp. 231-2. ~1862, March 14. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ For compensation to United States marshals, district attorneys, etc., for services in the suppression of the slave-trade, so much of the appropriation of March 2, 1861, as may be expedient and proper, not exceeding in all $10,000. _Statutes at Large_, XII. 368-9. ~1862, March 25. United States Statute: Prize Law.~ "An Act to facilitate Judicial Proceedings in Adjudications upon Captured Property, and for the better Administration of the Law of Prize." Applied to captures under the slave-trade law. _Ibid._, XII. 374-5; _Congressional Globe_, 37 Cong. 2 sess., Appendix, pp. 346-7. ~1862, June 7. Great Britain: Treaty of 1862.~ "Treaty for the suppression of the African slave trade. Concluded at Washington April 7, 1862; ratifications exchanged at London May 20, 1862; proclaimed June 7, 1862." Ratified unanimously by the Senate. _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (1889), pp. 454-66. See also _Senate Exec. Journal_, XII. pp. 230, 231, 240, 254, 391, 400, 403. ~1862, July 11. United States Statute: Treaty of 1862 Carried into Effect.~ "An Act to carry into Effect the Treaty between the United States and her Britannic Majesty for the Suppression of the African Slave-Trade." _Statutes at Large_, XII. 531; _Senate Journal_ and _House Journal_, 37 Cong. 2 sess., Senate Bill No. 352. ~1862, July 17. United States Statute: Former Acts Amended.~ "An Act to amend an Act entitled 'An Act to amend an Act entitled "An Act in Addition to the Acts prohibiting the Slave Trade."'" _Statutes at Large_, XII. 592-3; _Senate Journal_ and _House Journal_, 37 Cong. 2 sess., Senate Bill No. 385. ~1863, Feb. 4. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the treaty with Great Britain, proclaimed July 11, 1862, $17,000. _Statutes at Large_, XII. 639. ~1863, March 3. Congress: Joint Resolution.~ "Joint Resolution respecting the Compensation of the Judges and so forth, under the Treaty with Great Britain and other Persons employed in the Suppression of the Slave Trade." _Statutes at Large_, XII. 829. ~1863, April 22. Great Britain: Treaty of 1862 Amended.~ "Additional article to the treaty for the suppression of the African slave trade of April 7, 1862." Concluded February 17, 1863; ratifications exchanged at London April 1, 1863; proclaimed April 22, 1863. Right of Search extended. _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (1889), pp. 466-7. ~1863, Dec. 17. Congress (House): Resolution on Coastwise Slave-Trade.~ Mr. Julian introduced a bill to repeal portions of the Act of March 2, 1807, relative to the coastwise slave-trade. Read twice, and referred to Committee on the Judiciary. _Congressional Globe_, 38 Cong. 1 sess. p. 46. ~1864, July 2. United States Statute: Coastwise Slave-Trade Prohibited Forever.~ § 9 of Appropriation Act repeals §§ 8 and 9 of Act of 1807. _Statutes at Large_, XIII. 353. ~1864, Dec. 7. Great Britain: International Proposition.~ "The crime of trading in human beings has been for many years branded by the reprobation of all civilized nations. Still the atrocious traffic subsists, and many persons flourish on the gains they have derived from that polluted source. "Her Majesty's government, contemplating, on the one hand, with satisfaction the unanimous abhorrence which the crime inspires, and, on the other hand, with pain and disgust the slave-trading speculations which still subist [_sic_], have come to the conclusion that no measure would be so effectual to put a stop to these wicked acts as the punishment of all persons who can be proved to be guilty of carrying slaves across the sea. Her Majesty's government, therefore, invite the government of the United States to consider whether it would not be practicable, honorable, and humane-- "1st. To make a general declaration, that the governments who are parties to it denounce the slave trade as piracy. "2d. That the aforesaid governments should propose to their legislatures to affix the penalties of piracy already existing in their laws--provided, only, that the penalty in this case be that of death--to all persons, being subjects or citizens of one of the contracting powers, who shall be convicted in a court which takes cognizance of piracy, of being concerned in carrying human beings across the sea for the purpose of sale, or for the purpose of serving as slaves, in any country or colony in the world." Signed, "RUSSELL." Similar letters were addressed to France, Spain, Portugal, Austria, Prussia, Italy, Netherlands, and Russia. _Diplomatic Correspondence_, 1865, pt. ii. pp. 4, 58-9, etc. ~1865, Jan. 24. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the treaty with Great Britain, proclaimed July 11, 1862, $17,000. _Statutes at Large_, XIII. 424. ~1866, April 7. United States Statute: Compensation to Marshals, etc.~ For additional compensation to United States marshals, district attorneys, etc., for services in the suppression of the slave-trade, so much of the appropriation of March 2, 1861, as may be expedient and proper, not exceeding in all $10,000; and also so much as may be necessary to pay the salaries of judges and the expenses of mixed courts. _Ibid._, XIV. 23. ~1866, July 25. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the treaty with Great Britain, proclaimed July 11, 1862, $17,000. _Ibid._, XIV. 226. ~1867, Feb. 28. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the treaty with Great Britain, proclaimed July 11, 1862, $17,000. _Ibid._, XIV. 414-5. ~1868, March 30. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the treaty with Great Britain, proclaimed July 11, 1862, $12,500. _Ibid._, XV. 58. ~1869, Jan. 6. Congress (House): Abrogation of Treaty of 1862.~ Mr. Kelsey asked unanimous consent to introduce the following resolution:-- "Whereas the slave trade has been practically suppressed; and whereas by our treaty with Great Britain for the suppression of the slave trade large appropriations are annually required to carry out the provisions thereof: Therefore, "_Resolved_, That the Committee on Foreign Affairs are hereby instructed to inquire into the expediency of taking proper steps to secure the abrogation or modification of the treaty with Great Britain for the suppression of the slave trade." Mr. Arnell objected. _Congressional Globe_, 40 Cong. 3 sess. p. 224. ~1869, March 3. United States Statute: Appropriation.~ To carry out the treaty with Great Britain, proclaimed July 11, 1862, $12,500; provided that the salaries of judges be paid only on condition that they reside where the courts are held, and that Great Britain be asked to consent to abolish mixed courts. _Statutes at Large_, XV. 321. ~1870, April 22. Congress (Senate): Bill to Repeal Act of 1803.~ Senate Bill No. 251, to repeal an act entitled "An act to prevent the importation of certain persons into certain States where by the laws thereof their admission is prohibited." Mr. Sumner said that the bill had passed the Senate once, and that he hoped it would now pass. Passed; title amended by adding "approved February 28, 1803;" June 29, bill passed over in House; July 14, consideration again postponed on Mr. Woodward's objection. _Congressional Globe_, 41 Cong. 2 sess. pp. 2894, 2932, 4953, 5594. ~1870, Sept. 16. Great Britain: Additional Treaty.~ "Additional convention to the treaty of April 7, 1862, respecting the African slave trade." Concluded June 3, 1870; ratifications exchanged at London August 10, 1870; proclaimed September 16, 1870. _U.S. Treaties and Conventions_ (1889), pp. 472-6. ~1871, Dec. 11. Congress (House): Bill on Slave-Trade.~ On the call of States, Mr. Banks introduced "a bill (House, No. 490) to carry into effect article thirteen of the Constitution of the United States, and to prohibit the owning or dealing in slaves by American citizens in foreign countries." _House Journal_, 42 Cong. 2 sess. p. 48. * * * * * APPENDIX C. TYPICAL CASES OF VESSELS ENGAGED IN THE AMERICAN SLAVE-TRADE. 1619-1864. This chronological list of certain typical American slavers is not intended to catalogue all known cases, but is designed merely to illustrate, by a few selected examples, the character of the licit and the illicit traffic to the United States. ~1619.~ ----. Dutch man-of-war, imports twenty Negroes into Virginia, the first slaves brought to the continent. Smith, _Generall Historie of Virginia_ (1626 and 1632), p. 126. ~1645.~ ~Rainbowe,~ under Captain Smith, captures and imports African slaves into Massachusetts. The slaves were forfeited and returned. _Massachusetts Colonial Records_, II. 115, 129, 136, 168, 176; III. 13, 46, 49, 58, 84. ~1655.~ ~Witte paert,~ first vessel to import slaves into New York. O'Callaghan, _Laws of New Netherland_ (ed. 1868), p. 191, note. ~1736, Oct.~ ----. Rhode Island slaver, under Capt. John Griffen. _American Historical Record_, I. 312. ~1746.~ ----. Spanish vessel, with certain free Negroes, captured by Captains John Dennis and Robert Morris, and Negroes sold by them in Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and New York; these Negroes afterward returned to Spanish colonies by the authorities of Rhode Island. _Rhode Island Colonial Records_, V. 170, 176-7; Dawson's _Historical Magazine_, XVIII. 98. ~1752.~ ~Sanderson,~ of Newport, trading to Africa and West Indies. _American Historical Record_, I. 315-9, 338-42. Cf. above, p. 35, note 4. ~1788~ (_circa_). ----. "One or two" vessels fitted out in Connecticut. W.C. Fowler, _Historical Status of the Negro in Connecticut_, in _Local Law_, etc., p. 125. ~1801.~ ~Sally,~ of Norfolk, Virginia, equipped slaver; libelled and acquitted; owners claimed damages. _American State Papers, Commerce and Navigation_, I. No. 128. ~1803~ (?). ----. Two slavers seized with slaves, and brought to Philadelphia; both condemned, and slaves apprenticed. Robert Sutcliff, _Travels in North America_, p. 219. ~1804.~ ----. Slaver, allowed by Governor Claiborne to land fifty Negroes in Louisiana. _American State Papers, Miscellaneous_, I. No. 177. ~1814.~ ~Saucy Jack~ carries off slaves from Africa and attacks British cruiser. _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, p. 46; 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 147. ~1816~ (_circa_). ~Paz,~ ~Rosa,~ ~Dolores,~ ~Nueva Paz,~ and ~Dorset,~ American slavers in Spanish-African trade. Many of these were formerly privateers. _Ibid._, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, pp. 45-6; 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, pp. 144-7. ~1817, Jan. 17.~ ~Eugene,~ armed Mexican schooner, captured while attempting to smuggle slaves into the United States. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 12, p. 22. ~1817, Nov. 19.~ ~Tentativa,~ captured with 128 slaves and brought into Savannah. _Ibid._, p. 38; _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 81. See _Friends' View of the African Slave Trade_ (1824), pp. 44-7. ~1818.~ ----. Three schooners unload slaves in Louisiana. Collector Chew to the Secretary of the Treasury, _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 70. ~1818, Jan. 23.~ English brig ~Neptune,~ detained by U.S.S. John Adams, for smuggling slaves into the United States. _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 36 (3). ~1818, June.~ ~Constitution,~ captured with 84 slaves on the Florida coast, by a United States army officer. See references under 1818, June, below. ~1818, June.~ ~Louisa~ and ~Merino,~ captured slavers, smuggling from Cuba to the United States; condemned after five years' litigation. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 107; 19 Cong. 1 sess. VI.-IX. Nos. 121, 126, 152, 163; _House Reports_, 19 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 231; _American State Papers, Naval Affairs_, II. No. 308; Decisions of the United States Supreme Court in _9 Wheaton_, 391. ~1819.~ ~Antelope,~ or ~General Ramirez.~ The Colombia (or Arraganta), a Venezuelan privateer, fitted in the United States and manned by Americans, captures slaves from a Spanish slaver, the Antelope, and from other slavers; is wrecked, and transfers crew and slaves to Antelope; the latter, under the name of the General Ramirez, is captured with 280 slaves by a United States ship. The slaves were distributed, some to Spanish claimants, some sent to Africa, and some allowed to remain; many died. _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, pp. 5, 15; 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 186; _House Journal_, 20 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 59, 76, 123 to 692, _passim_. Gales and Seaton, _Register of Debates_, IV. pt. 1, pp. 915-6, 955-68, 998, 1005; _Ibid._, pt. 2, pp. 2501-3; _American State Papers, Naval Affairs_, II. No. 319, pp. 750-60; Decisions of the United States Supreme Court in _10 Wheaton_, 66, and _12 Ibid._, 546. ~1820.~ ~Endymion,~ ~Plattsburg,~ ~Science,~ ~Esperanza,~ and ~Alexander,~ captured on the African coast by United States ships, and sent to New York and Boston. _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, pp. 6, 15; 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, pp. 122, 144, 187. ~1820.~ ~General Artigas~ imports twelve slaves into the United States. _Friends' View of the African Slave Trade_ (1824), p. 42. ~1821~ (?). ~Dolphin,~ captured by United States officers and sent to Charleston, South Carolina. _Ibid._, pp. 31-2. ~1821.~ ~La Jeune Eugène,~ ~La Daphnée,~ ~La Mathilde,~ and ~L'Elize,~ captured by U.S.S. Alligator; ~La Jeune Eugène~ sent to Boston; the rest escape, and are recaptured under the French flag; the French protest. _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 187; _Friends' View of the African Slave Trade_ (1824), pp. 35-41. ~1821.~ ~La Pensée,~ captured with 220 slaves by the U.S.S. Hornet; taken to Louisiana. _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92, p. 5; 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348, p. 186. ~1821.~ ~Esencia~ lands 113 Negroes at Matanzas. _Parliamentary Papers_, 1822, Vol. XXII., _Slave Trade, Further Papers_, III. p. 78. ~1826.~ ~Fell's Point~ attempts to land Negroes in the United States. The Negroes were seized. _American State Papers, Naval Affairs_, II. No. 319, p. 751. ~1827, Dec. 20.~ ~Guerrero,~ Spanish slaver, chased by British, cruiser and grounded on Key West, with 561 slaves; a part (121) were landed at Key West, where they were seized by the collector; 250 were seized by the Spanish and taken to Cuba, etc. _House Journal_, 20 Cong. 1 sess. p. 650; _House_ _Reports_, 24 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 268; 25 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 4; _American State Papers, Naval Affairs_, III. No. 370, p. 210; _Niles's Register_, XXXIII. 373. ~1828, March 11.~ ~General Geddes~ brought into St. Augustine for safe keeping 117 slaves, said to have been those taken from the wrecked ~Guerrero~ and landed at Key West (see above, 1827). _House Doc._, 20 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 262. ~1828.~ ~Blue-eyed Mary,~ of Baltimore, sold to Spaniards and captured with 405 slaves by a British cruiser. _Niles's Register_, XXXIV. 346. ~1830, June 4.~ ~Fenix,~ with 82 Africans, captured by U.S.S. Grampus, and brought to Pensacola; American built, with Spanish colors. _House Doc._, 21 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 54; _House Reports_, 24 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 223; _Niles's Register_, XXXVIII. 357. ~1831, Jan. 3.~ ~Comet,~ carrying slaves from the District of Columbia to New Orleans, was wrecked on Bahama banks and 164 slaves taken to Nassau, in New Providence, where they were freed. Great Britain finally paid indemnity for these slaves. _Senate Doc._, 24 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 174; 25 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 216. ~1834, Feb. 4.~ ~Encomium,~ bound from Charleston, South Carolina, to New Orleans, with 45 slaves, was wrecked near Fish Key, Abaco, and slaves were carried to Nassau and freed. Great Britain eventually paid indemnity for these slaves. _Ibid._ ~1835, March.~ ~Enterprise,~ carrying 78 slaves from the District of Columbia to Charleston, was compelled by rough weather to put into the port of Hamilton, West Indies, where the slaves were freed. Great Britain refused to pay for these, because, before they landed, slavery in the West Indies had been abolished. _Ibid._ ~1836, Aug.-Sept.~ ~Emanuel,~ ~Dolores,~ ~Anaconda,~ and ~Viper,~ built in the United States, clear from Havana for Africa. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 4-6, 221. ~1837.~ ----. Eleven American slavers clear from Havana for Africa. _Ibid._, p. 221. ~1837.~ ~Washington,~ allowed to proceed to Africa by the American consul at Havana. _Ibid._, pp. 488-90, 715 ff; 27 Cong, 1 sess. No. 34, pp. 18-21. ~1838.~ ~Prova~ spends three months refitting in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina; afterwards captured by the British, with 225 slaves. _Ibid._, pp. 121, 163-6. ~1838.~ ----. Nineteen American slavers clear from Havana for Africa. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, p. 221. ~1838-9.~ ~Venus,~ American built, manned partly by Americans, owned by Spaniards. _Ibid._, pp. 20-2, 106, 124-5, 132, 144-5, 330-2, 475-9. ~1839.~ ~Morris Cooper,~ of Philadelphia, lands 485 Negroes in Cuba. _Niles's Register_, LVII. 192. ~1839.~ ~Edwin~ and ~George Crooks,~ slavers, boarded by British cruisers. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 12-4, 61-4. ~1839.~ ~Eagle,~ ~Clara,~ and ~Wyoming,~ with American and Spanish flags and papers and an American crew, captured by British cruisers, and brought to New York. The United States government declined to interfere in case of the ~Eagle~ and the ~Clara,~ and they were taken to Jamaica. The ~Wyoming~ was forfeited to the United States. _Ibid._, pp. 92-104, 109, 112, 118-9, 180-4; _Niles's Register_, LVI. 256; LVII. 128, 208. ~1839.~ ~Florida,~ protected from British cruisers by American papers. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 113-5. ~1839.~ ----. Five American slavers arrive at Havana from Africa, under American flags. _Ibid._, p. 192. ~1839.~ ----. Twenty-three American slavers clear from Havana. _Ibid._, pp. 190-1, 221. ~1839.~ ~Rebecca,~ part Spanish, condemned at Sierra Leone. _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, pp. 649-54, 675-84. ~1839.~ ~Douglas~ and ~Iago,~ American slavers, visited by British cruisers, for which the United States demanded indemnity. _Ibid._, pp. 542-65, 731-55; _Senate Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377, pp. 39-45, 107-12, 116-24, 160-1, 181-2. ~1839, April 9.~ ~Susan,~ suspected slaver, boarded by the British. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 34-41. ~1839, July-Sept.~ ~Dolphin~ (or ~Constitução),~ ~Hound,~ ~Mary Cushing~ (or ~Sete de Avril~), with American and Spanish flags and papers. _Ibid._, pp. 28, 51-5, 109-10, 136, 234-8; _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, pp. 709-15. ~1839, Aug.~ ~L'Amistad,~ slaver, with fifty-three Negroes on board, who mutinied; the vessel was then captured by a United States vessel and brought into Connecticut; the Negroes were declared free. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 185; 27 Cong. 3 sess. V. No. 191; 28 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 83; _House Exec. Doc._, 32 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 20; _House Reports_, 26 Cong. 2 sess. No. 51; 28 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 426; 29 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 753; _Senate Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 179; _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 29; 32 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 19; _Senate Reports_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. No. 301; 32 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 158; 35 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 36; Decisions of the United States Supreme Court in _15 Peters_, 518; _Opinions of the Attorneys-General_, III. 484-92. ~1839, Sept.~ ~My Boy,~ of New Orleans, seized by a British cruiser, and condemned at Sierra Leone. _Niles's Register_, LVII. 353. ~1839, Sept. 23.~ ~Butterfly,~ of New Orleans, fitted as a slaver, and captured by a British cruiser on the coast of Africa. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. No. 115, pp. 191, 244-7; _Niles's Register_, LVII. 223. ~1839, Oct.~ ~Catharine,~ of Baltimore, captured on the African coast by a British cruiser, and brought by her to New York. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V No. 115, pp. 191, 215, 239-44; _Niles's Register_, LVII. 119, 159. ~1839.~ ~Asp,~ ~Laura,~ and ~Mary Ann Cassard,~ foreign slavers sailing under the American flag. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 126-7, 209-18; _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, p. 688 ff. ~1839.~ ~Two Friends,~ of New Orleans, equipped slaver, with Spanish, Portuguese, and American flags. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 120, 160-2, 305. ~1839.~ ~Euphrates,~ of Baltimore, with American papers, seized by British cruisers as Spanish property. Before this she had been boarded fifteen times. _Ibid._, pp. 41-4; A.H. Foote, _Africa and the American Flag_, pp. 152-6. ~1839.~ ~Ontario,~ American slaver, "sold" to the Spanish on shipping a cargo of slaves. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 45-50. ~1839.~ ~Mary,~ of Philadelphia; case of a slaver whose nationality was disputed. _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, pp. 736-8; _Senate Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377, pp. 19, 24-5. ~1840, March.~ ~Sarah Ann,~ of New Orleans, captured with fraudulent papers. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 184-7. ~1840, June.~ ~Caballero,~ ~Hudson,~ and ~Crawford;~ the arrival of these American slavers was publicly billed in Cuba. _Ibid._, pp. 65-6. ~1840.~ ~Tigris,~ captured by British cruisers and sent to Boston for kidnapping. _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, pp. 724-9; _Senate Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377, P. 94. ~1840.~ ~Jones,~ seized by the British. _Senate Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377, pp. 131-2, 143-7, 148-60. ~1841, Nov. 7.~ ~Creole,~ of Richmond, Virginia, transporting slaves to New Orleans; the crew mutiny and take her to Nassau, British West Indies. The slaves were freed and Great Britain refused indemnity. _Senate Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 51 and III. No. 137. ~1841.~ ~Sophia,~ of New York, ships 750 slaves for Brazil. _House Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 43, pp. 3-8. ~1841.~ ~Pilgrim,~ of Portsmouth, N.H., ~Solon,~ of Baltimore, ~William Jones~ and ~Himmaleh,~ of New York, clear from Rio Janeiro for Africa. _Ibid._, pp. 8-12. ~1842, May.~ ~Illinois,~ of Gloucester, saved from search by the American flag; escaped under the Spanish flag, loaded with slaves. _Senate Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 150, p. 72 ff. ~1842, June.~ ~Shakespeare,~ of Baltimore, with 430 slaves, captured by British cruisers. _Ibid._ ~1843.~ ~Kentucky,~ of New York, trading to Brazil. _Ibid._, 30 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 28, pp. 71-8; _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61, p. 72 ff. ~1844.~ ~Enterprise,~ of Boston, transferred in Brazil for slave-trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 28, pp. 79-90. ~1844.~ ~Uncas,~ of New Orleans, protected by United States papers; allowed to clear, in spite of her evident character. _Ibid._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 150, pp. 106-14. ~1844.~ ~Sooy,~ of Newport, without papers, captured by the British sloop Racer, after landing 600 slaves on the coast of Brazil. _House Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 148, pp. 4, 36-62. ~1844.~ ~Cyrus,~ of New Orleans, suspected slaver, captured by the British cruiser Alert. _Ibid._, pp. 3-41. ~1844-5.~ ----. Nineteen slavers from Beverly, Boston, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, Providence, and Portland, make twenty-two trips. _Ibid._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61, pp. 219-20. ~1844-9.~ ----. Ninety-three slavers in Brazilian trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 6, pp. 37-8. ~1845.~ ~Porpoise,~ trading to Brazil. _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61, pp. 111-56, 212-4. ~1845, May 14.~ ~Spitfire,~ of New Orleans, captured on the coast of Africa, and the captain indicted in Boston. A.H. Foote, _Africa and the American Flag_, pp. 240-1; _Niles's Register_, LXVIII. 192, 224, 248-9. ~1845-6.~ ~Patuxent,~ ~Pons,~ ~Robert Wilson,~ ~Merchant,~ and ~Panther,~ captured by Commodore Skinner. _House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. IX. No. 73. ~1847.~ ~Fame,~ of New London, Connecticut, lands 700 slaves in Brazil. _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61, pp. 5-6, 15-21. ~1847.~ ~Senator,~ of Boston, brings 944 slaves to Brazil. _Ibid._, pp. 5-14. ~1849.~ ~Casco,~ slaver, with no papers; searched, and captured with 420 slaves, by a British cruiser. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. XIV No. 66, p. 13. ~1850.~ ~Martha,~ of New York, captured when about to embark 1800 slaves. The captain was admitted to bail, and escaped. A.H. Foote, _Africa and the American Flag_, pp. 285-92. ~1850.~ ~Lucy Ann,~ of Boston, captured with 547 slaves by the British. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. XIV No. 66, pp. 1-10 ff. ~1850.~ ~Navarre,~ American slaver, trading to Brazil, searched and finally seized by a British cruiser. _Ibid._ ~1850~ (_circa_). ~Louisa Beaton,~ ~Pilot,~ ~Chatsworth,~ ~Meteor,~ ~R. de Zaldo,~ ~Chester,~ etc., American slavers, searched by British vessels. _Ibid., passim._ ~1851, Sept. 18.~ ~Illinois~ brings seven kidnapped West India Negro boys into Norfolk, Virginia. _House Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 105, pp. 12-14. ~1852-62.~ ----. Twenty-six ships arrested and bonded for slave-trading in the Southern District of New York. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 53. ~1852.~ ~Advance~ and ~Rachel P. Brown,~ of New York; the capture of these was hindered by the United States consul in the Cape Verd Islands. _Ibid._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV. No. 99, pp. 41-5; _House Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 105, pp. 15-19. ~1853.~ ~Silenus,~ of New York, and ~General de Kalb,~ of Baltimore, carry 900 slaves from Africa. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV. No. 99, pp. 46-52; _House Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 105, pp. 20-26. ~1853.~ ~Jasper~ carries slaves to Cuba. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV. No. 99, pp. 52-7. ~1853.~ ~Camargo,~ of Portland, Maine, lands 500 slaves in Brazil. _Ibid._, 33 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 47. ~1854.~ ~Glamorgan,~ of New York, captured when about to embark nearly 700 slaves. _Ibid._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV. No. 99, pp. 59-60. ~1854.~ ~Grey Eagle,~ of Philadelphia, captured off Cuba by British cruiser. _Ibid._, pp. 61-3. ~1854.~ ~Peerless,~ of New York, lands 350 Negroes in Cuba. _Ibid._, p. 66. ~1854.~ ~Oregon,~ of New Orleans, trading to Cuba. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV. No. 99, pp. 69-70. ~1856.~ ~Mary E. Smith,~ sailed from Boston in spite of efforts to detain her, and was captured with 387 slaves, by the Brazilian brig Olinda, at port of St. Matthews. _Ibid._, pp. 71-3. ~1857.~ ----. Twenty or more slavers from New York, New Orleans, etc. _Ibid._, 35 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 49, pp. 14-21, 70-1, etc. ~1857.~ ~William Clark~ and ~Jupiter,~ of New Orleans, ~Eliza Jane,~ of New York, ~Jos. H. Record,~ of Newport, and ~Onward,~ of Boston, captured by British cruisers. _Ibid._, pp. 13, 25-6, 69, etc. ~1857.~ ~James Buchanan,~ slaver, escapes under American colors, with 300 slaves. _Ibid._, p. 38. ~1857.~ ~James Titers,~ of New Orleans, with 1200 slaves, captured by British cruiser. _Ibid._, pp. 31-4, 40-1. ~1857.~ ----. Four New Orleans slavers on the African coast. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 1 sess., XII. No. 49, p. 30. ~1857.~ ~Cortes,~ of New York, captured. _Ibid._, pp. 27-8. ~1857.~ ~Charles,~ of Boston, captured by British cruisers, with about 400 slaves. _Ibid._, pp. 9, 13, 36, 69, etc. ~1857.~ ~Adams Gray~ and ~W.D. Miller,~ of New Orleans, fully equipped slavers. _Ibid._, pp. 3-5, 13. ~1857-8.~ ~Charlotte,~ of New York, ~Charles,~ of Maryland, etc., reported American slavers. _Ibid., passim_. ~1858, Aug. 21.~ ~Echo,~ captured with 306 slaves, and brought to Charleston, South Carolina. _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. II. pt. 4, No. 2. pt. 4, pp. 5, 14. ~1858, Sept. 8.~ ~Brothers,~ captured and sent to Charleston, South Carolina. _Ibid._, p. 14. ~1858.~ ~Mobile,~ ~Cortez,~ ~Tropic Bird;~ cases of American slavers searched by British vessels. _Ibid._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 7, p. 97 ff. ~1858.~ ~Wanderer,~ lands 500 slaves in Georgia. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 8; _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 89. ~1859, Dec. 20.~ ~Delicia,~ supposed to be Spanish, but without papers; captured by a United States ship. The United States courts declared her beyond their jurisdiction. _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 7, p. 434. ~1860.~ ~Erie,~ with 897 Africans, captured by a United States ship. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 41-4. ~1860.~ ~William,~ with 550 slaves, ~Wildfire,~ with 507, captured on the coast of Cuba. _Senate Journal_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. pp. 478-80, 492, 543, etc.; _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. XI. No. 44; _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 83; 36 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 11; _House Reports_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 602. ~1861.~ ~Augusta,~ slaver, which, in spite of the efforts of the officials, started on her voyage. _Senate Exec Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 40; _New York Tribune_, Nov. 26, 1861. ~1861.~ ~Storm King,~ of Baltimore, lands 650 slaves in Cuba. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 38 Cong. 1 sess. No. 56, p. 3. ~1862.~ ~Ocilla,~ of Mystic, Connecticut, lands slaves in Cuba. _Ibid._, pp. 8-13. ~1864.~ ~Huntress,~ of New York, under the American flag, lands slaves in Cuba. _Ibid._, pp. 19-21. * * * * * APPENDIX D. BIBLIOGRAPHY. ~COLONIAL LAWS.~ [The Library of Harvard College, the Boston Public Library, and the Charlemagne Tower Collection at Philadelphia are especially rich in Colonial Laws.] ~Alabama and Mississippi Territory.~ Acts of the Assembly of Alabama, 1822, etc.; J.J. Ormond, Code of Alabama, Montgomery, 1852; H. Toulmin, Digest of the Laws of Alabama, Cahawba, 1823; A. Hutchinson, Code of Mississippi, Jackson, 1848; Statutes of Mississippi etc., digested, Natchez, 1816 and 1823. ~Connecticut.~ Acts and Laws of Connecticut, New London, 1784 [-1794], and Hartford, 1796; Connecticut Colonial Records; The General Laws and Liberties of Connecticut Colonie, Cambridge, 1673, reprinted at Hartford in 1865; Statute Laws of Connecticut, Hartford, 1821. ~Delaware.~ Laws of Delaware, 1700-1797, 2 vols., New Castle, 1797. ~Georgia.~ George W.J. De Renne, editor, Colonial Acts of Georgia, Wormsloe, 1881; Constitution of Georgia; T.R.R. Cobb, Digest of the Laws, Athens, Ga., 1851; Horatio Marbury and W.H. Crawford, Digest of the Laws, Savannah, 1802; Oliver H. Prince, Digest of the Laws, 2d edition, Athens, Ga., 1837. ~Maryland.~ James Bisset, Abridgment of the Acts of Assembly, Philadelphia, 1759; Acts of Maryland, 1753-1768, Annapolis, 1754 [-1768]; Compleat Collection of the Laws of Maryland, Annapolis, 1727; Thomas Bacon, Laws of Maryland at Large, Annapolis, 1765; Laws of Maryland since 1763, Annapolis, 1787, year 1771; Clement Dorsey, General Public Statutory Law, etc., 1692-1837, 3 vols., Baltimore, 1840. ~Massachusetts.~ Acts and Laws of His Majesty's Province of the Massachusetts-Bay in New-England, Boston, 1726; Acts and Resolves ... of the Province of the Massachusetts Bay, 1692-1780 [Massachusetts Province Laws]; Colonial Laws of Massachusetts, reprinted from the editions of 1660 and 1672, Boston, 1887, 1890; General Court Records; Massachusetts Archives; Massachusetts Historical Society Collections; Perpetual Laws of Massachusetts, 1780-1789, Boston, 1789; Plymouth Colony Records; Records of the Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay. ~New Jersey.~ Samuel Allinson, Acts of Assembly, Burlington, 1776; William Paterson, Digest of the Laws, Newark, 1800; William A. Whitehead, editor, Documents relating to the Colonial History of New Jersey, Newark, 1880-93; Joseph Bloomfield, Laws of New Jersey, Trenton, 1811; New Jersey Archives. ~New York.~ Acts of Assembly, 1691-1718, London, 1719; E.B. O'Callaghan, Documentary History of New York, 4 vols., Albany, 1849-51; E.B. O'Callaghan, editor, Documents relating to the Colonial History of New York, 12 vols., Albany, 1856-77; Laws of New York, 1752-1762, New York, 1762; Laws of New York, 1777-1801, 5 vols., republished at Albany, 1886-7. ~North Carolina.~ F.X. Martin, Iredell's Public Acts of Assembly, Newbern, 1804; Laws, revision of 1819, 2 vols., Raleigh, 1821; North Carolina Colonial Records, edited by William L. Saunders, Raleigh, 1886-90. ~Pennsylvania.~ Acts of Assembly, Philadelphia, 1782; Charter and Laws of the Province of Pennsylvania, Harrisburg, 1879; M. Carey and J. Bioren, Laws of Pennsylvania, 1700-1802, 6 vols., Philadelphia, 1803; A.J. Dallas, Laws of Pennsylvania, 1700-1781, Philadelphia, 1797; _Ibid._, 1781-1790, Philadelphia, 1793; Collection of all the Laws now in force, 1742; Pennsylvania Archives; Pennsylvania Colonial Records. ~Rhode Island.~ John Russell Bartlett, Index to the Printed Acts and Resolves, of ... the General Assembly, 1756-1850, Providence, 1856; Elisha R. Potter, Reports and Documents upon Public Schools, etc., Providence, 1855; Rhode Island Colonial Records. ~South Carolina.~ J.F. Grimké, Public Laws, Philadelphia, 1790; Thomas Cooper and D.J. McCord, Statutes at Large, 10 vols., Columbia, 1836-41. ~Vermont.~ Statutes of Vermont, Windsor, 1787; Vermont State Papers, Middlebury, 1823. ~Virginia.~ John Mercer, Abridgement of the Acts of Assembly, Glasgow, 1759; Acts of Assembly, Williamsburg, 1769: Collection of Public Acts ... passed since 1768, Richmond, 1785; Collections of the Virginia Historical Society; W.W. Hening, Statutes at Large, 13 vols., Richmond, etc., 1819-23; Samuel Shepherd, Statutes at Large, New Series (continuation of Hening), 3 vols, Richmond, 1835-6. ~UNITED STATES DOCUMENTS.~ ~1789-1836.~ American State Papers--Class I., _Foreign Relations_, Vols. III. and IV. (Reprint of Foreign Relations, 1789-1828.) Class VI., _Naval Affairs_. (Well indexed.) ~1794, Feb. 11.~ Report of Committee on the Slave Trade. _Amer. State Papers, Miscellaneous_, I. No. 44. ~1806, Feb. 17.~ Report of the Committee appointed on the seventh instant, to inquire whether any, and if any, what Additional Provisions are necessary to Prevent the Importation of Slaves into the Territories of the United States. _House Reports_, 9 Cong. 1 sess. II. ~1817, Feb. 11.~ Joint Resolution for abolishing the traffick in Slaves, and the Colinization [_sic_] of the Free People Of Colour of the United States. _House Doc._, 14 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 77. ~1817, Dec. 15.~ Message from the President ... communicating Information of the Proceeding of certain Persons who took Possession of Amelia Island and of Galvezton, [_sic_] during the Summer of the Present Year, and made Establishments there. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 12. (Contains much evidence of illicit traffic.) ~1818, Jan. 10.~ Report of the Committee to whom was referred so much of the President's Message as relates to the introduction of Slaves from Amelia Island. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 46 (cf. _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348). ~1818, Jan. 13.~ Message from the President ... communicating information of the Troops of the United States having taken possession of Amelia Island, in East Florida. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 47. (Contains correspondence.) ~1819, Jan. 12.~ Letter from the Secretary of the Navy, transmitting copies of the instructions which have been issued to Naval Commanders, upon the subject of the Importation of Slaves, etc. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 84. ~1819, Jan. 19.~ Extracts from Documents in the Departments of State, of the Treasury, and of the Navy, in relation to the Illicit Introduction of Slaves into the United States. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 100. ~1819, Jan. 21.~ Letter from the Secretary of the Treasury ... in relation to Ships engaged in the Slave Trade, which have been Seized and Condemned, and the Disposition which has been made of the Negroes, by the several State Governments, under whose Jurisdiction they have fallen. _House Doc._, 15 Cong. 2 sess. VI. No. 107. ~1820, Jan. 7.~ Letter from the Secretary of the Navy, transmitting information in relation to the Introduction of Slaves into the United States. _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 36. ~1820, Jan. 13.~ Letter from the Secretary of the Treasury, transmitting ... Information in relation to the Illicit Introduction of Slaves into the United States, etc., _Ibid._, No. 42. ~1820, May 8.~ Report of the Committee to whom was referred ... so much of the President's Message as relates to the Slave Trade, etc. _House Reports_, 16 Cong. 1 sess. No. 97. ~1821, Jan. 5.~ Message from the President ... transmitting ... Information on the Subject of the African Slave Trade. _House Doc._, 16 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 48. ~1821, Feb. 7.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. No. 92, pp. 15-21. ~1821, Feb. 9.~ Report of the Committee to which was referred so much of the President's message as relates to the Slave Trade. _House Reports_, 16 Cong. 2 sess. No. 59. ~1822, April 12.~ Report of the Committee on the Suppression of the Slave Trade. Also Report of 1821, Feb. 9, reprinted. (Contains discussion of the Right of Search, and papers on European Conference for the Suppression of the Slave Trade.) _House Reports_, 17 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 92. ~1823, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 18 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, p. 111, ff.; _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs_, I. No. 258. (Contains reports on the establishment at Cape Mesurado.)[1] ~1824, March 20.~ Message from the President ... in relation to the Suppression of the African Slave Trade. _House Doc._, 18 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 119. (Contains correspondence on the proposed treaty of 1824.) ~1824, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs_, I. No. 249. ~1824, Dec. 7.~ Documents accompanying the Message of the President ... to both Houses of Congress, at the commencement of the Second Session of the Eighteenth Congress: Documents from the Department of State. _House Doc._, 18 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1. pp. 1-56. Reprinted in _Senate Doc._, 18 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1. (Matter on the treaty of 1824.) ~1825, Feb. 16.~ Report of the Committee to whom was referred so much of the President's Message, of the 7th of December last, as relates to the Suppression of the Slave Trade. _House Reports_, 18 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 70 (Report favoring the treaty of 1824.) ~1825, Dec. 2.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 1. p. 98. ~1825, Dec. 27.~ Slave Trade: Message from the President ... communicating Correspondence with Great Britain in relation to the Convention for Suppressing the Slave Trade. _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 16. ~1826, Feb. 6.~ Appropriation--Slave Trade: Report of the Committee of Ways and Means on the subject of the estimate of appropriations for the service of the year 1826. _House Reports_, 19 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 65. (Contains report of the Secretary of the Navy and account of expenditures for the African station.) ~1826, March 8.~ Slave Ships in Alabama: Message from the President ... in relation to the Cargoes of certain Slave Ships, etc. _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 121; cf. _Ibid._, VIII. No. 126, and IX. Nos. 152, 163; also _House Reports_, 19 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 231. (Cases of the Constitution, Louisa, and Merino.) ~1826, Dec. 2.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. (Part IV. of Documents accompanying the President's Message.) _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 9, 10, 74-103. ~1827, etc.~ Colonization Society: Reports, etc. _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 2 sess. IV. Nos. 64, 69; 20 Cong. 1 sess. III. Nos. 99, 126, and V. No. 193; 20 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 114, 127-8; 21 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, p. 211-18; _House Reports_, 19 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 101; 21 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 277, and III. No. 348; 22 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 277. ~1827, Jan. 30.~ Prohibition of the Slave Trade: Statement showing the Expenditure of the Appropriation for the Prohibition of the Slave Trade, during the year 1826, and an Estimate for 1827. _House Doc._, 19 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 69. ~1827, Dec. 1 and Dec. 4.~ Reports of the Secretary of the Navy. _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs,_ III. Nos. 339, 340. ~1827, Dec. 6.~ Message from the President ... transmitting ... a Report from the Secretary of the Navy, showing the expense annually incurred in carrying into effect the Act of March 2, 1819, for Prohibiting the Slave Trade. _Senate Doc._, 20 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 3. ~1828, March 12.~ Recaptured Africans: Letter from the Secretary of the Navy ... in relation to ... Recaptured Africans. _House Doc._, 20 Cong. 1 sess. V. No. 193; cf. _Ibid._, 20 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 114, 127-8; also _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs_, III. No. 357. ~1828, April 30.~ Africans at Key West: Message from the President ... relative to the Disposition of the Africans Landed at Key West. _House Doc._, 20 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 262. ~1828, Nov. 27.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs_, III. No. 370. ~1829, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 21 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, p. 40. ~1830, April 7.~ Slave Trade ... Report: "The committee to whom were referred the memorial of the American Society for colonizing the free people of color of the United States; also, sundry memorials from the inhabitants of the State of Kentucky, and a memorial from certain free people of color of the State of Ohio, report," etc., 3 pp. Appendix. Collected and arranged by Samuel Burch. 290 pp. _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348. (Contains a reprint of legislation and documents from 14 Cong. 2 sess. to 21 Cong. 1 sess. Very valuable.) ~1830, Dec. 6.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 21 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 42-3; _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs_, III. No. 429 E. ~1830, Dec. 6.~ Documents communicated to Congress by the President at the opening of the Second Session of the Twenty-first Congress, accompanying the Report of the Secretary of the Navy: Paper E. Statement of expenditures, etc., for the removal of Africans to Liberia. _House Doc._, 21 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 211-8. ~1831, Jan. 18.~ Spanish Slave Ship Fenix: Message from the President ... transmitting Documents in relation to certain captives on board the Spanish slave vessel, called the Fenix. _House Doc._, 21 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 54; _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs_, III. No. 435. ~1831-1835.~ Reports of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 22 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 45, 272-4; 22 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 48, 229; 23 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 238, 269; 23 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 315, 363; 24 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 336, 378. Also _Amer. State Papers, Naval Affairs_, IV. No. 457, R. Nos. 1, 2; No. 486, H. I.; No. 519, R.; No. 564, P.; No. 585, P. ~1836, Jan. 26.~ Calvin Mickle, Ex'r of Nagle & De Frias. _House Reports_, 24 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 209. (Reports on claims connected with the captured slaver Constitution.) ~1836, Jan. 27, etc.~ [Reports from the Committee of Claims on cases of captured Africans.] _House Reports_, 24 Cong. 1 sess. I. Nos. 223, 268, and III. No. 574. No. 268 is reprinted in _House Reports_, 25 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 4. ~1836, Dec. 3.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 24 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 450, 506. ~1837, Feb. 14.~ Message from the President ... with copies of Correspondence in relation to the Seizure of Slaves on board the brigs "Encomium" and "Enterprise." _Senate Doc._, 24 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 174; cf. _Ibid._, 25 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 216. ~1837-1839.~ Reports of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 25 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 3, pp. 762, 771, 850; 25 Cong. 3 sess. I. No. 2, p. 613; 26 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 534, 612. ~1839.~ [L'Amistad Case.] _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 185 (correspondence); 27 Cong. 3 sess. V. No. 191 (correspondence); 28 Cong. 1 sess. IV No. 83; _House Exec. Doc._, 32 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 20; _House Reports_, 26 Cong. 2 sess. No. 51 (case of altered Ms.); 28 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 426 (Report of Committee); 29 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 753 (Report of Committee); _Senate Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 179 (correspondence); _Senate Exec Doc._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 29 (correspondence); 32 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 19; _Senate Reports_, 31 Cong. 2 sess. No. 301 (Report of Committee); 32 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 158 (Report of Committee); 35 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 36 (Report of Committee). ~1840, May 18.~ Memorial of the Society of Friends, upon the subject of the foreign slave trade. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 211. (Results of certain investigations.) ~1840, Dec. 5.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 405, 450. ~1841, Jan. 20.~ Message from the President ... communicating ... copies of correspondence, imputing malpractices to the American consul at Havana, in regard to granting papers to vessels engaged in the slave-trade. _Senate Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 125. (Contains much information.) ~1841, March 3.~ Search or Seizure of American Vessels, etc.: Message from the President ... transmitting a report from the Secretary of State, in relation to seizures or search of American vessels on the coast of Africa, etc. _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115 (elaborate correspondence). See also _Ibid._, 27 Cong. 1 sess. No. 34; _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283, pp. 478-755 (correspondence). ~1841, Dec. 4.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 349, 351. ~1842, Jan. 20.~ Message from the President ... communicating ... copies of correspondence in relation to the mutiny on board the brig Creole, and the liberation of the slaves who were passengers in the said vessel. _Senate Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 51. See also _Ibid._, III. No. 137; _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. I. No. 2, p. 114. ~1842, May 10.~ Resolutions of the Legislature of the State of Mississippi in reference to the right of search, and the case of the American brig Creole. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 215. (Suggestive.) ~1842, etc.~ [Quintuple Treaty and Cass's Protest: Messages of the President, etc.] _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 249; _Senate Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. II. No. 52, and IV. No. 223; 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377. ~1842, June 10.~ Indemnities for slaves on board the Comet and Encomium: Report of the Secretary of State. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 242. ~1842, Aug.~ Suppression of the African Slave Trade--Extradition: Case of the Creole, etc. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 105-136. (Correspondence accompanying Message of President.) ~1842, Dec.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. I. No. 2, p. 532. ~1842, Dec. 30.~ Message from the President ... in relation to the strength and expense of the squadron to be employed on the coast of Africa. _Senate Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. II. No. 20. ~1843, Feb. 28.~ Construction of the Treaty of Washington, etc.: Message from the President ... transmitting a report from the Secretary of State, in answer to the resolution of the House of the 22d February, 1843. _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. V. No. 192. ~1843, Feb. 28.~ African Colonization.... Report: "The Committee on Commerce, to whom was referred the memorial of the friends of African colonization, assembled in convention in the city of Washington in May last, beg leave to submit the following report," etc. (16 pp.). Appendix. (1071 pp.). _House Reports_, 27 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 283 [Contents of Appendix: pp. 17-408, identical nearly with the Appendix to _House Reports_, 21 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 348; pp. 408-478. Congressional history of the slave-trade, case of the Fenix, etc. (cf. _House Doc._, 21 Cong. 2 sess. III. No. 54); pp. 478-729, search and seizure of American vessels (same as _House Doc._, 26 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 115, pp. 1-252); pp. 730-755, correspondence on British search of American vessels, etc.; pp. 756-61, Quintuple Treaty; pp. 762-3, President's Message on Treaty of 1842; pp. 764-96, correspondence on African squadron, etc.; pp. 796-1088, newspaper extracts on the slave-trade and on colonization, report of Colonization Society, etc.] ~1843, Nov. 25.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 28 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, pp. 484-5. ~1844, March 14.~ Message from the President ... communicating ... information in relation to the abuse of the flag of the United States in ... the African slave trade, etc. _Senate Doc._, 28 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 217. ~1844, March 15.~ Report: "The Committee on the Judiciary, to whom was referred the petition of ... John Hanes, ... praying an adjustment of his accounts for the maintenance of certain captured African slaves, ask leave to report," etc. _Senate Doc._, 28 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 194. ~1844, May 4.~ African Slave Trade: Report: "The Committee on Foreign Affairs, to whom was referred the petition of the American Colonization Society and others, respectfully report," etc. _House Reports_, 28 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 469. ~1844, May 22.~ Suppression of the Slave-Trade on the coast of Africa: Message from the President, etc. _House Doc._, 28 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 263. ~1844, Nov. 25.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 2, p. 514. ~1845, Feb. 20.~ Slave-Trade, etc.: Message from the President ... transmitting copies of despatches from the American minister at the court of Brazil, relative to the slave-trade, etc. _House Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 148. (Important evidence, statistics, etc.) ~1845, Feb. 26.~ Message from the President ... communicating ... information relative to the operations of the United States squadron, etc. _Senate Doc._, 28 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 150. (Contains reports of Commodore Perry, and statistics of Liberia.) ~1845, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 2, p. 645. ~1845, Dec. 22.~ African Slave-Trade: Message from the President ... transmitting a report from the Secretary of State, together with the correspondence of George W. Slacum, relative to the African slave trade. _House Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 43. (Contains much information.) ~1846, June 6.~ Message from the President ... communicating ... copies of the correspondence between the government of the United States and that of Great Britain, on the subject of the right of search; with copies of the protest of the American minister at Paris against the quintuple treaty, etc. _Senate Doc._, 29 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 377. Cf. _Ibid._, 27 Cong. 3 sess. II. No. 52, and IV. No. 223; _House Doc._, 27 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 249. ~1846-1847, Dec.~ Reports of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Doc._, 29 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 4, p. 377; 30 Cong. 1 sess. II. No. 8, p. 946. ~1848, March 3.~ Message from the President ... communicating a report from the Secretary of State, with the correspondence of Mr. Wise, late United States minister to Brazil, in relation to the slave trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 28. (Full of facts.) ~1848, May 12.~ Report of the Secretary of State, in relation to ... the seizure of the brig Douglass by a British cruiser. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 1 sess. VI. No. 44. ~1848, Dec. 4.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 605, 607. ~1849, March 2.~ Correspondence between the Consuls of the United States at Rio de Janeiro, etc., with the Secretary of State, on the subject of the African Slave Trade: Message of the President, etc. _House Exec. Doc._, 30 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 61. (Contains much evidence.) ~1849, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. III. pt. 1, No. 5, pt. 1, pp. 427-8. ~1850, March 18.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy, showing the annual number of deaths in the United States squadron on the coast of Africa, and the annual cost of that squadron. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. X. No. 40. ~1850, July 22.~ African Squadron: Message from the President ... transmitting Information in reference to the African squadron. _House Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. IX. No. 73. (Gives total expenses of the squadron, slavers captured, etc.) ~1850, Aug. 2.~ Message from the President ... relative to the searching of American vessels by British ships of war. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 1 sess. XIV. No. 66. ~1850, Dec. 17.~ Message of the President ... communicating ... a report of the Secretary of State, with documents relating to the African slave trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 31 Cong. 2 sess. II. No. 6. ~1851-1853.~ Reports of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 32 Cong. 1 sess. II. pt. 2, No. 2, pt. 2, pp. 4-5; 32 Cong. 2 sess. I. pt. 2, No. 1, pt. 2, p. 293; 33 Cong. 1 sess. I. pt. 3, No. 1, pt. 3, pp. 298-9. ~1854, March 13.~ Message from the President ... communicating ... the correspondence between Mr. Schenck, United States Minister to Brazil, and the Secretary of State, in relation to the African slave trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 33 Cong. 1 sess. VIII. No. 47. ~1854, June 13.~ Report submitted by Mr. Slidell, from the Committee on Foreign Relations, on a resolution relative to the abrogation of the eighth article of the treaty with Great Britain of the 9th of August, 1842, etc. _Senate Reports_, 34 Cong. 1 sess. I. No. 195. (Injunction of secrecy removed June 26, 1856.) ~1854-1855, Dec.~ Reports of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 33 Cong. 2 sess. I. pt. 2, No. 1, pt. 2, pp. 386-7; 34 Cong. 1 sess. I. pt. 3, No. 1, pt. 3, p. 5. ~1856, May 19.~ Slave and Coolie Trade: Message from the President ... communicating information in regard to the Slave and Coolie trade. _House Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 105. (Partly reprinted in _Senate Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV No. 99.) ~1856, Aug. 5.~ Report of the Secretary of State, in compliance with a resolution of the Senate of April 24, calling for information relative to the coolie trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XV. No. 99. (Partly reprinted in _House Exec Doc._, 34 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 105.) ~1856, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 34 Cong. 3 sess. I. pt. 2, No. 1, pt. 2, p. 407. ~1857, Feb. 11.~ Slave Trade: Letter from the Secretary of State, asking an appropriation for the suppression of the slave trade, etc. _House Exec Doc._, 34 Cong. 3 sess. IX. No. 70. ~1857, Dec. 3.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec Doc._, 35 Cong. 1 sess. II. pt. 3, No. 2, pt. 3, p. 576. ~1858, April 23.~ Message of the President ... communicating ... reports of the Secretary of State and the Secretary of the Navy, with accompanying papers, in relation to the African slave trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 49. (Valuable.) ~1858, Dec. 6.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. II. pt. 4, No. 2, pt. 4, pp. 5, 13-4. ~1859, Jan. 12.~ Message of the President ... relative to the landing of the barque Wanderer on the coast of Georgia, etc. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. VII. No. 8. See also _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 89. ~1859, March 1.~ Instructions to African squadron: Message from the President, etc. _House Exec. Doc._, 35 Cong. 2 sess. IX. No. 104. ~1859, Dec. 2.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. III. No. 2, pt. 3, pp. 1138-9, 1149-50. ~1860, Jan. 25.~ Memorial of the American Missionary Association, praying the rigorous enforcement of the laws for the suppression of the African slave-trade, etc. _Senate Misc. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. No. 8. ~1860, April 24.~ Message from the President ... in answer to a resolution of the House calling for the number of persons ... belonging to the African squadron, who have died, etc. _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 73. ~1860, May 19.~ Message of the President ... relative to the capture of the slaver Wildfire, etc. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. XI. No. 44. ~1860, May 22.~ Capture of the slaver "William": Message from the President ... transmitting correspondence relative to the capture of the slaver "William," etc. _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. XII. No. 83. ~1860, May 31.~ The Slave Trade ... Report: "The Committee on the Judiciary, to whom was referred Senate Bill No. 464, ... together with the messages of the President ... relative to the capture of the slavers 'Wildfire' and 'William,' ... respectfully report," etc. _House Reports_, 36 Cong. 1 sess. IV. No. 602. ~1860, June 16.~ Recaptured Africans: Letter from the Secretary of the Interior, on the subject of the return to Africa of recaptured Africans, etc. _House Misc. Doc._, 36 Cong. 1 sess. VII. No. 96. Cf. _Ibid._, No. 97, p. 2. ~1860, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. III. pt. 1, No. 1, pt. 3, pp. 8-9. ~1860, Dec. 6.~ African Slave Trade: Message from the President ... transmitting ... a report from the Secretary of State in reference to the African slave trade. _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 7. (Voluminous document, containing chiefly correspondence, orders, etc., 1855-1860.) ~1860, Dec. 17.~ Deficiencies of Appropriation, etc.: Letter from the Secretary of the Interior, communicating estimates for deficiencies in the appropriation for the suppression of the slave trade, etc. _House Exec. Doc._, 36 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 11. (Contains names of captured slavers.) ~1861, July 4.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 1 sess. No. 1, pp. 92, 97. ~1861, Dec. 2.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. Vol. III. pt. 1, No. 1, pt. 3, pp. 11, 21. ~1861, Dec. 18.~ In Relation to Captured Africans: Letter from the Secretary of the Interior ... as to contracts for returning and subsistence of captured Africans. _House Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 12. ~1862, April 1.~ Letter of the Secretary of the Interior ... in relation to the slave vessel the "Bark Augusta." _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 40. ~1862, May 30.~ Letter of the Secretary of the Interior ... in relation to persons who have been arrested in the southern district of New York, from the 1st day of May, 1852, to the 1st day of May, 1862, charged with being engaged in the slave trade, etc. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 53. ~1862, June 10.~ Message of the President ... transmitting a copy of the treaty between the United States and her Britannic Majesty for the suppression of the African slave trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 2 sess. V. No. 57. (Also contains correspondence.) ~1862, Dec. 1.~ Report of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 3 sess. III. No. 1, pt. 3, p. 23. ~1863, Jan. 7.~ Liberated Africans: Letter from the Acting Secretary of the Interior ... transmitting reports from Agent Seys in relation to care of liberated Africans. _House Exec. Doc._, 37 Cong. 3 sess. V. No. 28. ~1864, July 2.~ Message of the President ... communicating ... information in regard to the African slave trade. _Senate Exec. Doc._, 38 Cong. 1 sess. No. 56. ~1866-69.~ Reports of the Secretary of the Navy. _House Exec. Doc._, 39 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 1, pt. 6, pp. 12, 18-9; 40 Cong. 2 sess. IV. No. 1, p. 11; 40 Cong. 3 sess. IV. No. 1, p. ix; 41 Cong. 2 sess. I. No. 1, pp. 4, 5, 9, 10. ~1870, March 2.~ [Resolution on the slave-trade submitted to the Senate by Mr. Wilson]. _Senate Misc. Doc._, 41 Cong. 2 sess. No. 66. ~GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY.~ John Quincy Adams. Argument before the Supreme Court of the United States, in the case of the United States, Appellants, _vs._ Cinque, and Others, Africans, captured in the schooner Amistad, by Lieut. Gedney, delivered on the 24th of Feb. and 1st of March, 1841. With a Review of the case of the Antelope. New York, 1841. An African Merchant (anon.). A Treatise upon the Trade from Great-Britain to Africa; Humbly recommended to the Attention of Government. London, 1772. The African Slave Trade: Its Nature, Consequences, and Extent. From the Leeds Mercury. [Birmingham, 183-.] The African Slave Trade: The Secret Purpose of the Insurgents to Revive it. No Treaty Stipulations against the Slave Trade to be entered into with the European Powers, etc. Philadelphia, 1863. George William Alexander. Letters on the Slave-Trade, Slavery, and Emancipation, etc. London, 1842. (Contains Bibliography.) American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society; Reports. American Anti-Slavery Society. Memorial for the Abolition of Slavery and the Slave Trade. London, 1841. ----. Reports and Proceedings. American Colonization Society. Annual Reports, 1818-1860. (Cf. above, United States Documents.) J.A. Andrew and A.G. Browne, proctors. Circuit Court of the United States, Massachusetts District, ss. In Admiralty. The United States, by Information, _vs._ the Schooner Wanderer and Cargo, G. Lamar, Claimant. Boston, 1860. Edward Armstrong, editor. The Record of the Court at Upland, in Pennsylvania. 1676-1681. Philadelphia, 1860. (In _Memoirs_ of the Pennsylvania Historical Society, VII. 11.) Samuel Greene Arnold. History of the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. 2 vols. New York, 1859-60. (See Index to Vol. II., "Slave Trade.") Assiento, or, Contract for allowing to the Subjects of Great Britain the Liberty of Importing Negroes into the Spanish America. Sign'd by the Catholick King at Madrid, the Twenty sixth Day of March, 1713. By Her Majesties special Command. London, 1713. R.S. Baldwin. Argument before the Supreme Court of the United States, in the case of the United States, Appellants, _vs._ Cinque, and Others, Africans of the Amistad. New York, 1841. James Bandinel. Some Account of the Trade in Slaves from Africa as connected with Europe and America; From the Introduction of the Trade into Modern Europe, down to the present Time; especially with reference to the efforts made by the British Government for its extinction. London, 1842. Anthony Benezet. Inquiry into the Rise and Progress of the Slave Trade, 1442-1771. (In his Historical Account of Guinea, etc., Philadelphia, 1771.) ----. Notes on the Slave Trade, etc. [1780?]. Thomas Hart Benton. Abridgment of the Debates of Congress, from 1789 to 1856. 16 vols. Washington, 1857-61. Edward Bettle. Notices of Negro Slavery, as connected with Pennsylvania. (Read before the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Aug. 7, 1826. Printed in _Memoirs_ of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Vol. I. Philadelphia, 1864.) W.O. Blake. History of Slavery and the Slave Trade, Ancient and Modern. Columbus, 1859. Jeffrey R. Brackett. The Status of the Slave, 1775-1789. (Essay V. in Jameson's _Essays in the Constitutional History of the United States, 1775-89_. Boston, 1889.) Thomas Branagan. Serious Remonstrances, addressed to the Citizens of the Northern States and their Representatives, on the recent Revival of the Slave Trade in this Republic. Philadelphia, 1805. British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society. Annual and Special Reports. ----. Proceedings of the general Anti-Slavery Convention, called by the committee of the British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, and held in London, ... June, 1840. London, 1841. [A British Merchant.] The African Trade, the Great Pillar and Support of the British Plantation Trade in America: shewing, etc. London, 1745. [British Parliament, House of Lords.] Report of the Lords of the Committee of the Council appointed for the Confederation of all Matters relating to Trade and Foreign Plantations, etc. 2 vols. [London,] 1789. William Brodie. Modern Slavery and the Slave Trade: a Lecture, etc. London, 1860. Thomas Fowell Buxton. The African Slave Trade and its Remedy. London, 1840. John Elliot Cairnes. The Slave Power: its Character, Career, and Probable Designs. London, 1862. Henry C. Carey. The Slave Trade, Domestic and Foreign: why it Exists and how it may be Extinguished. Philadelphia, 1853. [Lewis Cass]. An Examination of the Question, now in Discussion, ... concerning the Right of Search. By an American. [Philadelphia, 1842.] William Ellery Channing. The Duty of the Free States, or Remarks suggested by the case of the Creole. Boston, 1842. David Christy. Ethiopia, her Gloom and Glory, as illustrated in the History of the Slave Trade, etc. (1442-1857.) Cincinnati, 1857. Rufus W. Clark. The African Slave Trade. Boston, [1860.] Thomas Clarkson. An Essay on the Comparative Efficiency of Regulation or Abolition, as applied to the Slave Trade. Shewing that the latter only can remove the evils to be found in that commerce. London, 1789. ----. An Essay on the Impolicy of the African Slave Trade. In two parts. Second edition. London, 1788. ----. An Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, particularly the African. London and Dublin, 1786. ----. The History of the Rise, Progress, and Accomplishment of the Abolition of the African Slave-Trade, by the British Parliament. 2 vols. Philadelphia, 1808. Michael W. Cluskey. The Political Text-Book, or Encyclopedia ... for the Reference of Politicians and Statesmen. Fourteenth edition. Philadelphia, 1860. T.R.R. Cobb. An Historical Sketch of Slavery, from the Earliest Periods. Philadelphia and Savannah. 1858. T.R.R. Cobb. Inquiry into the Law of Negro Slavery in the United States of America. Vol. I. Philadelphia and Savannah, 1858. Company of Royal Adventurers. The Several Declarations of the Company of Royal Adventurers of England trading into Africa, inviting all His Majesties Native Subjects in general to Subscribe, and become Sharers in their Joynt-stock, etc. [London,] 1667. Confederate States of America. By Authority of Congress: The Statutes at Large of the Provisional Government of the Confederate States of America, from the Institution of the Government, Feb. 8, 1861, to its Termination, Feb. 18, 1862, Inclusive, etc. (Contains provisional and permanent constitutions.) Edited by James M. Matthews. Richmond, 1864. Constitution of a Society for Abolishing the Slave-Trade. With Several Acts of the Legislatures of the States of Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode-Island, for that Purpose. Printed by John Carter. Providence, 1789. Continental Congress. Journals and Secret Journals. Moncure D. Conway. Omitted Chapters of History disclosed in the Life and Papers of Edmund Randolph, etc. New York and London, 1888. Thomas Cooper. Letters on the Slave Trade. Manchester, Eng., 1787. Correspondence with British Ministers and Agents in Foreign Countries, and with Foreign Ministers in England, relative to the Slave Trade, 1859-60. London, 1860. The Creole Case, and Mr. Webster's Despatch; with the comments of the New York "American." New York, 1842. B.R. Curtis. Reports of Decisions in the Supreme Court of the United States. With Notes, and a Digest. Fifth edition. 22 vols. Boston, 1870. James Dana. The African Slave Trade. A Discourse delivered ... September, 9, 1790, before the Connecticut Society for the Promotion of Freedom. New Haven, 1791. Henry B. Dawson, editor. The Foederalist: A Collection of Essays, written in favor of the New Constitution, as agreed upon by the Foederal Convention, September 17, 1787. Reprinted from the Original Text. With an Historical Introduction and Notes. Vol. I. New York, 1863. Paul Dean. A Discourse delivered before the African Society ... in Boston, Mass., on the Abolition of the Slave Trade ... July 14, 1819. Boston, 1819. Charles Deane. The Connection of Massachusetts with Slavery and the Slave-Trade, etc. Worcester, 1886. (Also in _Proceedings_ of the American Antiquarian Society, October, 1886.) ----. Charles Deane. Letters and Documents relating to Slavery in Massachusetts. (In _Collections_ of the Massachusetts Historical Society, 5th Series, III. 373.) Debate on a Motion for the Abolition of the Slave-Trade, in the House of Commons, on Monday and Tuesday, April 18 and 19, 1791. Reported in detail. London, 1791. J.D.B. De Bow. The Commercial Review of the South and West. (Also De Bow's Review of the Southern and Western States.) 38 vols. New Orleans, 1846-69. Franklin B. Dexter. Estimates of Population in the American Colonies. Worcester, 1887. Captain Richard Drake. Revelations of a Slave Smuggler: being the Autobiography of Capt. Richard Drake, an African Trader for fifty years--from 1807 to 1857, etc. New York, [1860.] Daniel Drayton. Personal Memoir, etc. Including a Narrative of the Voyage and Capture of the Schooner Pearl. Published by the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, Boston and New York, 1855. John Drayton. Memoirs of the American Revolution. 2 vols. Charleston, 1821. Paul Dudley. An Essay on the Merchandize of Slaves and Souls of Men. Boston, 1731. Edward E. Dunbar. The Mexican Papers, containing the History of the Rise and Decline of Commercial Slavery in America, with reference to the Future of Mexico. First Series, No. 5. New York, 1861. Jonathan Edwards. The Injustice and Impolicy of the Slave Trade, and of the Slavery of the Africans, etc. [New Haven,] 1791. Jonathan Elliot. The Debates ... on the adoption of the Federal Constitution, etc. 4 vols. Washington, 1827-30. Emerson Etheridge. Speech ... on the Revival of the African Slave Trade, etc. Washington, 1857. Alexander Falconbridge. An Account of the Slave Trade on the Coast of Africa. London, 1788. Andrew H. Foote. Africa and the American Flag. New York, 1854. ----. The African Squadron: Ashburton Treaty; Consular Sea Letters. Philadelphia, 1855. Peter Force. American Archives, etc. In Six Series. Prepared and Published under Authority of an act of Congress. Fourth and Fifth Series. 9 vols. Washington, 1837-53. Paul Leicester Ford. The Association of the First Congress, (In Political Science Quarterly, VI. 613.) ----. Pamphlets on the Constitution of the United States, published during its Discussion by the People, 1787-8. (With Bibliography, etc.) Brooklyn, 1888. William Chauncey Fowler. Local Law in Massachusetts and Connecticut, Historically considered; and The Historical Status of the Negro, in Connecticut, etc. Albany, 1872, and New Haven, 1875. [Benjamin Franklin.] An Essay on the African Slave Trade. Philadelphia, 1790. [Friends.] Address to the Citizens of the United States of America on the subject of Slavery, etc. (At New York Yearly Meeting.) New York, 1837. ----. An Appeal on the Iniquity of Slavery and the Slave Trade. (At London Yearly Meeting.) London and Cincinnati, 1844. ----. The Appeal of the Religious Society of Friends in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, etc., [Yearly Meeting] to their Fellow-Citizens of the United States on behalf of the Coloured Races. Philadelphia, 1858. ----. A Brief Statement of the Rise and Progress of the Testimony of the Religious Society of Friends against Slavery and the Slave Trade. 1671-1787. (At Yearly Meeting in Philadelphia.) Philadelphia, 1843. ----. The Case of our Fellow-Creatures, the Oppressed Africans, respectfully recommended to the Serious Consideration of the Legislature of Great-Britain, by the People called Quakers. (At London Meeting.) London, 1783 and 1784. (This volume contains many tracts on the African slave-trade, especially in the West Indies; also descriptions of trade, proposed legislation, etc.) [Friends.] An Exposition of the African Slave Trade, from the year 1840, to 1850, inclusive. Prepared from official documents. Philadelphia, 1857. ----. Extracts and Observations on the Foreign Slave Trade. Philadelphia, 1839. ----. Facts and Observations relative to the Participation of American Citizens in the African Slave Trade. Philadelphia, 1841. ----. Faits relatifs à la Traite des Noirs, et Détails sur Sierra Leone; par la Société des Ames. Paris, 1824. ----. Germantown Friends' Protest against Slavery, 1688. Fac-simile Copy. Philadelphia, 1880. ----. Observations on the Inslaving, importing and purchasing of Negroes; with some Advice thereon, extracted from the Epistle of the Yearly-Meeting of the People called Quakers, held at London in the Year 1748. Second edition. Germantown, 1760. ----. Proceedings in relation to the Presentation of the Address of the [Great Britain and Ireland] Yearly Meeting on the Slave-Trade and Slavery, to Sovereigns and those in Authority in the nations of Europe, and in other parts of the world, where the Christian religion is professed. Cincinnati, 1855. ----. Slavery and the Domestic Slave Trade in the United States. By the committee appointed by the late Yearly Meeting of Friends held in Philadelphia, in 1839. Philadelphia, 1841. ----. A View of the Present State of the African Slave Trade. Philadelphia, 1824. Carl Garcis. Das Heutige Völkerrecht und der Menschenhandel. Eine völkerrechtliche Abhandlung, zugleich Ausgabe des deutschen Textes der Verträge von 20. Dezember 1841 und 29. März 1879. Berlin, 1879. ----. Der Sklavenhandel, das Völkerrecht, und das deutsche Recht. (In Deutsche Zeit- und Streit-Fragen, No. 13.) Berlin, 1885. Agénor Étienne de Gasparin. Esclavage et Traite. Paris, 1838. Joshua R. Giddings. Speech ... on his motion to reconsider the vote taken upon the final passage of the "Bill for the relief of the owners of slaves lost from on Board the Comet and Encomium." [Washington, 1843.] Benjamin Godwin. The Substance of a Course of Lectures on British Colonial Slavery, delivered at Bradford, York, and Scarborough. London, 1830. ----. Lectures on Slavery. From the London edition, with additions. Edited by W.S. Andrews. Boston, 1836. William Goodell. The American Slave Code in Theory and Practice: its Distinctive Features shown by its Statutes, Judicial Decisions, and Illustrative Facts. New York, 1853. ----. Slavery and Anti-Slavery; A History of the great Struggle in both Hemispheres; with a view of the Slavery Question in the United States. New York, 1852. Daniel R. Goodloe. The Birth of the Republic. Chicago, [1889.] [Great Britain.] British and Foreign State Papers. ----. Sessional Papers. (For notices of slave-trade in British Sessional Papers, see Bates Hall Catalogue, Boston Public Library, pp. 347 _et seq._) [Great Britain: Parliament.] Chronological Table and Index of the Statutes, Eleventh Edition, to the end of the Session 52 and 53 Victoria, (1889.) By Authority. London, 1890. [Great Britain: Record Commission.] The Statutes of the Realm. Printed by command of His Majesty King George the Third ... From Original Records and Authentic Manuscripts. 9 vols. London, 1810-22. George Gregory. Essays, Historical and Moral. Second edition. London, 1788. (Essays 7 and 8: Of Slavery and the Slave Trade; A Short Review, etc.) Pope Gregory XVI. To Catholic Citizens! The Pope's Bull [for the Abolition of the Slave Trade], and the words of Daniel O'Connell [on American Slavery.] New York, [1856.] H. Hall. Slavery in New Hampshire. (In _New England Register_, XXIX. 247.) Isaac W. Hammond. Slavery in New Hampshire in the Olden Time. (In _Granite Monthly_, IV. 108.) James H. Hammond. Letters on Southern Slavery: addressed to Thomas Clarkson. [Charleston, (?)]. Robert G. Harper. Argument against the Policy of Reopening the African Slave Trade. Atlanta, Ga., 1858. Samuel Hazard, editor. The Register of Pennsylvania. 16 vols. Philadelphia, 1828-36. Hinton R. Helper. The Impending Crisis of the South: How to Meet it. Enlarged edition. New York, 1860. Lewis and Sir Edward Hertslet, compilers. A Complete Collection of the Treaties and Conventions, and Reciprocal Regulations, at present subsisting between Great Britain and Foreign Powers, and of the Laws, Decrees, and Orders in Council, concerning the same; so far as they relate to Commerce and Navigation, ... the Slave Trade, etc. 17 vols., (Vol. XVI., Index.) London, 1840-90. William B. Hodgson. The Foulahs of Central Africa, and the African Slave Trade. [New York, (?)] 1843. John Codman Hurd. The Law of Freedom and Bondage in the United States. 2 vols. Boston and New York, 1858, 1862. ----. The International Law of the Slave Trade, and the Maritime Right of Search. (In the American Jurist, XXVI. 330.) ----. The Jamaica Movement, for promoting the Enforcement of the Slave-Trade Treaties, and the Suppression of the Slave-Trade; with statements of Fact, Convention, and Law: prepared at the request of the Kingston Committee. London, 1850. William Jay. Miscellaneous Writings on Slavery. Boston, 1853. ----. A View of the Action of the Federal Government, in Behalf of Slavery. New York, 1839. T. and J.W. Johnson. Inquiry into the Law of Negro Slavery in the United States. Alexandre Moreau de Jonnès. Recherches Statistiques sur l'Esclavage Colonial et sur les Moyens de le supprimer. Paris, 1842. M.A. Juge. The American Planter: or The Bound Labor Interest in the United States. New York, 1854. Friedrich Kapp. Die Sklavenfrage in den Vereinigten Staaten. Göttingen and New York, 1854. ----. Geschichte der Sklaverei in den Vereinigten Staaten von Amerika. Hamburg, 1861. Frederic Kidder. The Slave Trade in Massachusetts. (In _New-England Historical and Genealogical Register_, XXXI. 75.) George Lawrence. An Oration on the Abolition of the Slave Trade ... Jan. 1, 1813. New York, 1813. William B. Lawrence. Visitation and Search; or, An Historical Sketch of the British Claim to exercise a Maritime Police over the Vessels of all Nations, in Peace as well as in War. Boston, 1858. Letter from ... in London, to his Friend in America, on the ... Slave Trade, etc. New York, 1784. Thomas Lloyd. Debates of the Convention of the State of Pennsylvania on the Constitution, proposed for the Government of the United States. In two volumes. Vol. I. Philadelphia, 1788. London Anti-Slavery Society. The Foreign Slave Trade, A Brief Account of its State, of the Treaties which have been entered into, and of the Laws enacted for its Suppression, from the date of the English Abolition Act to the present time. London, 1837. ----. The Foreign Slave Trade, etc., No. 2. London, 1838. London Society for the Extinction of the Slave Trade, and for the Civilization of Africa. Proceedings at the first Public Meeting, held at Exeter Hall, on Monday, 1st June, 1840. London, 1840. Theodore Lyman, Jr. The Diplomacy of the United States, etc. Second edition. 2 vols. Boston, 1828. Hugh M'Call. The History of Georgia, containing Brief Sketches of the most Remarkable Events, up to the Present Day. 2 vols. Savannah, 1811-16. Marion J. McDougall. Fugitive Slaves. Boston, 1891. John Fraser Macqueen. Chief Points in the Laws of War and Neutrality, Search and Blockade, etc. London and Edinburgh, 1862. R.R. Madden. A Letter to W.E. Channing, D.D., on the subject of the Abuse of the Flag of the United States in the Island of Cuba, and the Advantage taken of its Protection in promoting the Slave Trade. Boston, 1839. James Madison. Letters and Other Writings of James Madison, Fourth President of the United States. In four volumes. Published by order of Congress. Philadelphia, 1865. James Madison. The Papers of James Madison, purchased by order of Congress; being his Correspondence and Reports of Debates during the Congress of the Confederation and his Reports of Debates in the Federal Convention. 3 vols. Washington, 1840. Marana (pseudonym). The Future of America. Considered ... in View of ... Re-opening the Slave Trade. Boston, 1858. E. Marining. Six Months on a Slaver. New York, 1879. George C. Mason. The African Slave Trade in Colonial Times. (In American Historical Record, I. 311, 338.) Frederic G. Mather. Slavery in the Colony and State of New York. (In _Magazine of American History_, XI. 408.) Samuel May, Jr. Catalogue of Anti-Slavery Publications in America, 1750-1863. (Contains bibliography of periodical literature.) Memorials presented to the Congress of the United States of America, by the Different Societies instituted for promoting the Abolition of Slavery, etc., etc., in the States of Rhode-Island, Connecticut, New-York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia. Philadelphia, 1792. Charles F. Mercer. Mémoires relatifs à l'Abolition de la Traite Africaine, etc. Paris, 1855. C.W. Miller. Address on Re-opening the Slave Trade ... August 29, 1857. Columbia, S.C., 1857. George H. Moore. Notes on the History of Slavery in Massachusetts. New York, 1866. ----. Slavery in Massachusetts. (In _Historical Magazine_, XV. 329.) Jedidiah Morse. A Discourse ... July 14, 1808, in Grateful Celebration of the Abolition of the African Slave-Trade by the Governments of the United States, Great Britain and Denmark. Boston, 1808. John Pennington, Lord Muncaster. Historical Sketches of the Slave Trade and its effect on Africa, addressed to the People of Great Britain. London, 1792. Edward Needles. An Historical Memoir of the Pennsylvania Society, for Promoting the Abolition of Slavery. Philadelphia, 1848. New England Anti-Slavery Convention. Proceedings at Boston, May 27, 1834. Boston, 1834. Hezekiah Niles (_et al._), editors. The Weekly Register, etc. 71 vols. Baltimore, 1811-1847. (For Slave-Trade, see I. 224; III. 189; V. 30, 46; VI. 152; VII. 54, 96, 286, 350; VIII. 136, 190, 262, 302, Supplement, p. 155; IX. 60, 78, 133, 172, 335; X. 296, 400, 412, 427; XI. 15, 108, 156, 222, 336, 399; XII. 58, 60, 103, 122, 159, 219, 237, 299, 347, 397, 411.) Robert Norris. A Short Account of the African Slave-Trade. A new edition corrected. London, 1789. E.B. O'Callaghan, translator. Voyages of the Slavers St. John and Arms of Amsterdam, 1659, 1663; with additional papers illustrative of the Slave Trade under the Dutch. Albany, 1867. (New York Colonial Tracts, No. 3.) Frederick Law Olmsted. A Journey in the Back Country. New York, 1860. ----. A Journey in the Seaboard Slave States, etc. New York, 1856. ----. A Journey through Texas, etc. New York, 1857. ----. The Cotton Kingdom, etc. 2 vols. New York, 1861. Sir W.G. Ouseley. Notes on the Slave Trade; with Remarks on the Measures adopted for its Suppression. London, 1850. Pennsylvania Historical Society. The Charlemagne Tower Collection of American Colonial Laws. (Bibliography.) Philadelphia, 1890. Edward A. Pollard. Black Diamonds gathered in the Darkey Homes of the South. New York, 1859. William F. Poole. Anti-Slavery Opinions before the Year 1800. To which is appended a fac-simile reprint of Dr. George Buchanan's Oration on the Moral and Political Evil of Slavery, etc. Cincinnati, 1873. Robert Proud. History of Pennsylvania. 2 vols. Philadelphia. 1797-8. [James Ramsay.] An Inquiry into the Effects of putting a Stop to the African Slave Trade, and of granting Liberty to the Slaves in the British Sugar Colonies. London, 1784. [James Ramsey.] Objections to the Abolition of the Slave Trade, with Answers, etc. Second edition. London, 1788. [John Ranby.] Observations on the Evidence given before the Committees of the Privy Council and House of Commons in Support of the Bill for Abolishing the Slave Trade. London, 1791. Remarks on the Colonization of the Western Coast of Africa, by the Free Negroes of the United States, etc. New York, 1850. Right of Search. Reply to an "American's Examination" of the "Right of Search, etc." By an Englishman. London, 1842. William Noel Sainsbury, editor. Calendar of State Papers, Colonial Series, America and the West Indies, 1574-1676. 4 vols. London, 1860-93. George Sauer. La Traite et l'Esclavage des Noirs. London, 1863. George S. Sawyer. Southern Institutes; or, An Inquiry into the Origin and Early Prevalence of Slavery and the Slave-Trade. Philadelphia, 1858. Selections from the Revised Statutes: Containing all the Laws relating to Slaves, etc. New York, 1830. Johann J. Sell. Versuch einer Geschichte des Negersclavenhandels. Halle, 1791. [Granville Sharp.] Extract of a Letter to a Gentleman in Maryland; Wherein is demonstrated the extreme wickedness of tolerating the Slave Trade. Fourth edition. London, 1806. A Short Account of that part of Africa Inhabited by the Negroes, ... and the Manner by which the Slave Trade is carried on. Third edition. London, 1768. A Short Sketch of the Evidence for the Abolition of the Slave-Trade. Philadelphia, 1792. Joseph Sidney. An Oration commemorative of the Abolition of the Slave Trade in the United States.... Jan. 2. 1809. New York, 1809. [A Slave Holder.] Remarks upon Slavery and the Slave-Trade, addressed to the Hon. Henry Clay. 1839. The Slave Trade in New York. (In the _Continental Monthly_, January, 1862, p. 86.) Joseph Smith. A Descriptive Catalogue of Friends' Books. (Bibliography.) 2 vols. London, 1867. Capt. William Snelgrave. A New Account of some Parts of Guinea, and the Slave-Trade. London, 1734. South Carolina. General Assembly (House), 1857. Report of the Special Committee of the House of Representatives ... on so much of the Message of His Excellency Gov. Jas. H. Adams, as relates to Slavery and the Slave Trade. Columbia, S.C., 1857. L.W. Spratt. A Protest from South Carolina against a Decision of the Southern Congress: Slave Trade in the Southern Congress. (In Littell's _Living Age_, Third Series, LXVIII. 801.) ----. Speech upon the Foreign Slave Trade, before the Legislature of South Carolina. Columbia, S.C., 1858. ----. The Foreign Slave Trade the Source of Political Power, etc. Charleston, 1858. William Stith. The History of the First Discovery and Settlement of Virginia. Virginia and London, 1753. George M. Stroud. A Sketch of the Laws relating to Slavery in the Several States of the United States of America. Philadelphia, 1827. James Swan. A Dissuasion to Great-Britain and the Colonies: from the Slave-Trade to Africa. Shewing the Injustice thereof, etc. Revised and Abridged. Boston, 1773. F.T. Texugo. A Letter on the Slave Trade still carried on along the Eastern Coast of Africa, etc. London, 1839. R. Thorpe. A View of the Present Increase of the Slave Trade, the Cause of that Increase, and a mode for effecting its total Annihilation. London, 1818. Jesse Torrey. A Portraiture of Domestic Slavery ... and a Project of Colonial Asylum for Free Persons of Colour. Philadelphia, 1817. Drs. Tucker and Belknap. Queries respecting the Slavery and Emancipation of Negroes in Massachusetts, proposed by the Hon. Judge Tucker of Virginia, and answered by the Rev. Dr. Belknap. (In Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society, First Series, IV. 191.) David Turnbull. Travels in the West. Cuba; with Notices of Porto Rico, and the Slave Trade. London, 1840. United States Congress. Annals of Congress, 1789-1824; Congressional Debates, 1824-37; Congressional Globe, 1833-73; Congressional Record, 1873-; Documents (House and Senate); Executive Documents (House and Senate); Journals (House and Senate); Miscellaneous Documents (House and Senate); Reports (House and Senate); Statutes at Large. United States Supreme Court. Reports of Decisions. Charles W. Upham. Speech in the House of Representatives, Massachusetts, on the Compromises of the Constitution, with an Appendix containing the Ordinance of 1787. Salem, 1849. Virginia State Convention. Proceedings and Debates, 1829-30. Richmond, 1830. G. Wadleigh. Slavery in New Hampshire. (In _Granite Monthly_, VI. 377.) Emory Washburn. Extinction of Slavery in Massachusetts. (In Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, May, 1857. Boston, 1859.) William B. Weeden. Economic and Social History of New England, 1620-1789. 2 vols. Boston, 1890. Henry Wheaton. Enquiry into the Validity of the British Claim to a Right of Visitation and Search of American Vessels suspected to be engaged in the African Slave-Trade. Philadelphia, 1842. William H. Whitmore. The Colonial Laws of Massachusetts. Reprinted from the Edition of 1660, with the Supplements to 1772. Containing also the Body of Liberties of 1641. Boston, 1889. George W. Williams. History of the Negro Race in America from 1619 to 1880. 2 vols. New York, 1883. Henry Wilson. History of the Antislavery Measures of the Thirty-seventh and Thirty-eighth United-States Congresses, 1861-64. Boston, 1864. ----. History of the Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America. 3 vols. Boston, 1872-7. FOOTNOTES: [1] The Reports of the Secretary of the Navy are found among the documents accompanying the annual messages of the President. * * * * * Index ABOLITION of slave-trade by Europe, 145 n. Abolition Societies, organization of, 42, 74; petitions of, 79, 80-85. Adams, C.F., 151. Adams, J.Q., on Right of Search, 139; proposes Treaty of 1824, 140; message, 271-72. Adams, Governor of S.C., message on slave-trade, 169, 170, 289-90. Advertisements for smuggled slaves, 182 n. Africa, English trade to, 10, 12-13; Dutch trade to, 24-25; Colonial trade to, 26, 35, 36, 41-42, 47, 75, 76; "Association" and trade to, 47, 52; American trade to, 88, 112, 113, 116, 148, 179, 180, 181-82, 185-87; reopening of trade to, 168-92. African Agency, establishment, 124, 126; attempts to abolish, 156; history, 158. "African Labor Supply Association," 176. African Society of London, 113. African squadron, establishment of, 123, 124; activity of, 128, 129, 146, 148, 157, 159, 184, 185, 186, 191. Aix-la-Chapelle, Peace, 11; Congress, 137 n. Alabama, in Commercial Convention, 170; State statutes, 112, 254, 263-64, 287-88. Alston, speeches on Act of 1807, 99 n., 101 n., 102 n. Amelia Island, illicit traffic at, 116, 117, 121, 254; capture of, 118, 257. Amendments to slave-trade clause in Constitution proposed, 72, 94, 111 n., 183, 248-51, 253, 258, 266, 298, 299. American Missionary Society, petition, 182. "L'Amistad," case of, 143, 311. Anderson, minister to Colombia, 142 n. "Antelope" ("Ramirez"), case of, 129 n., 132, 284. "Apprentices," African, importation of, 172, 177; Louisiana bill on, 177; Congressional bill on, 183. Appropriations to suppress the slave-trade, chronological list of, 125 n.; from 1820 to 1850, 157-58; from 1850 to 1860, 183; from 1860 to 1870, 190; statutes, 255, 265, 272-76, 277-78, 285, 286-89, 291, 294, 297, 300, 301, 304. Argentine Confederation, 144 n. Arkansas, 170. Arkwright, Richard, 152. Ashmun, Jehudi, 158. Assiento treaty, 4, 206, 207; influence of, 7, 22, 45. "Association," the, reasons leading to, 47, 48; establishment of, 50, 51; results of, 52-53. Atherton, J., speech of, 72. "Augusta," case of the slaver, 315. Aury, Capt., buccaneer, 116. Austria, at Congress of Vienna, 155-56; at Congress of Verona, 139-40; signs Quintuple Treaty, 147, 281. Ayres, Eli, U.S. African agent, 158; report of, 128, 129. BABBIT, William, slave-trader, 131 n. Bacon, Samuel, African agent, 126, 158. Badger, Joseph, slave-trader, 131 n. Baldwin, Abraham, in Federal Convention, 59, 60, 63, 65; in Congress, 81, 108. Baltimore, slave-trade at, 131-32, 165, 166. Banks, N.P., 192, 305. Barancas, Fort, 120. Barbadoes, 12. Bard (of Pa.), Congressman, 90. Barksdale, Wm. (of Miss.), 175. Barnwell, Robert (of S.C.), 70. Barry, Robert, slave-trader, 165. Bay Island slave-depot, 166. Bayard, J.A. (of Del.), Congressman, 87. Bedinger, G.M. (of Ky.), 89 n. Belgium, 150. Belknap, J. (of Mass.), 77. Benezet, Anthony, 29. Benton, Thomas H., 140, 156, 285. Betton (of N.H.), Congressman, 109 n. Biblical Codes of Law, 26, 37, 44 n. Bidwell (of Mass.), Congressman, 99 n., 100 n., 102 n., 104 n., 108-10, 111, 252. Blanco and Caballo, slave-traders, 165. Bland, T. (of Va.), Congressman, 81. Bolivia, 144 n. Border States, interstate slave-trade from, 155; legislation of, 76; see also under individual States. Boston, slave-trade at, 37, 85, 166, 184. Bozal Negroes, 166. Braddock's Expedition, 21. Bradley, S.R., Senator, 98, 107, 108. Brazil, slave-trade to, 25, 114, 144, 163, 164, 171, 179, 275; slaves in, 133; proposed conference with, 150; squadron on coasts of, 160. Brazos Santiago, 180. Brown (of Miss.), Congressman, 175. Brown, John (of Va.), slave-trader, 52. Brown, John (of R.I.), 85-87. Buchanan, James A., refuses to co-operate with England, 151; issues "Ostend Manifesto," 177; as president, enforces slave-trade laws, 186; messages, 291, 294-95, 298. Buchanan, Governor of Sierra Leone, 164. Bullock, Collector of Revenue, 116. Burgesses, Virginia House of, petitions vs. slave-trade, 21; declares vs. slave-trade, 21; in "Association," 48. Burke, Aedanus (of S.C.), 78-80. Butler, Pierce (of S.C.), Senator, 65. CALHOUN, J.C., 155 n. California, vessels bound to, 162. Campbell, John, Congressman, 108. Campbell, Commander, U.S.N., 118 n. Canning, Stratford, British Minister, 138, 140. Canot, Capt., slave-trader, 184. Cape de Verde Islands, 185. Cartwright, Edmund, 152. Cass, Lewis, 147-51, 281. Castlereagh, British Cabinet Minister, 135, 136. Cato, insurrection of the slave, 18. "Centinel," newspaper correspondent, 67. Central America, 177. Chandalier Islands, 119. Chandler, John (of N.H.), 104 n. Charles II., of England, 10. Charleston, S.C., attitude toward "Association," 49; slave-trade at, 89, 92, 93, 96, 113, 165. Chew, Beverly, Collector of Revenue, 116, 118. Chili, 150. Chittenden, Martin (of Vt.), 109 n. Claiborne, Wm., Governor of La., 92. Clarkson, William, 53, 134. Clay, J.B. (of Ky.), Congressman, 175. Clay, Congressman, 102 n. Clearance of slavers, 157, 162, 164, 184, 280, 287, 288. Clymer, George (of Pa.), 63, 77. Coastwise slave-trade, 98, 106-09, 156, 161, 183, 191, 302. Cobb, Howell, Sec. of the Treasury, 177. Coles (of Va.), Congressman, 81. Colombia, U.S. of, 142, 270. Colonies, legislation of, see under individual Colonies, and Appendix A; slave-trade in, 11, 13, 22, 25, 34-36, 46-47, 53-56; status of slavery in, 13-14, 23, 24, 33-34, 44, 199, 200. Colonization Society, 126, 156 n., 158, 196. "Comet," case of the slaver, 143, 309. Commercial conventions, Southern, 169-73. Company of Merchants Trading to Africa, 11. Compromises in Constitution, 62-66, 196-98. Compton, Samuel, 152. Confederate States of America, 187-90, 299, 300. Confederation, the, 56-57, 228. Congress of the United States, 77-111, 112, 121-26, 128, 131, 156-58, 174, 190-92, 239, 247-66, 268, 271-75, 278-81, 284-94, 295-97, 298-99, 301-02, 304-05. Congress of Verona, 139. Congress of Vienna, 135, 137. Connecticut, restrictions in, 43-44, 57; elections in, 178; Colonial and State legislation, 199, 200, 223, 225, 236, 240. "Constitution," slaver, 120, 121, 307. Constitution of the United States, 58-73, 78, 79-83, 94, 102-03, 107, 111 n., 139, 183, 196, 248-51, 253, 258, 266, 298, 299. See also Amendments and Compromises. Continental Congress, 49-52. Cook, Congressman, 100 n., 103 n., 108. Cosby, Governor of N.Y., 27. Cotton, manufacture of, 152, 153; price of, 153-54; crop of, 154. Cotton-gin, 153. Coxe, Tench, 68. Cranston, Governor of R.I., 41. Crawford, W.H., Secretary, 119, 175. "Creole," case of the slaver, 143, 283-84, 312. Crimean war, 154. Cruising Conventions, 138, 139, 146, 148-49, 285, 289, 292, 297-98. Cuba, cruising off, 151, 297; movement to acquire, 155, 177, 186; illicit traffic to and from, 161, 162, 164, 166, 171. Cumberland, Lieut., R.N., 149. "Cyane," U.S.S., 129. DANA (of Conn.), Congressman, 86. Danish slave-trade, 47. Darien, Ga., 51, 117. Davis, Jefferson, 175. De Bow, J.D.B., 172, 176. Declaration of Independence, 53-54. Delaware, restrictions in, 31, 56, 76; attitude toward slave-trade, 64, 72 n., 74; Colonial and State statutes, 225, 226, 232, 238-39, 244. Denmark, abolition of slave-trade, 133, 247. Dent (of Md.), Congressman, 87. Dickinson, John, in the Federal Convention, 59, 60, 63. Dickson (of N.C.), Congressman, 87. Disallowance of Colonial acts, 11, 12, 18-19, 21, 27, 29, 32, 42. Dobbs, Governor of N.C., 12. Dolben, Sir William, M.P., 134. Douglas, Stephen A., 181. Dowdell (of Ala.), Congressman, 175. Drake, Capt., slave-smuggler, 114, 166. Driscoll, Capt., slave-trader, 184. Duke of York's Laws, 26, 200. Dunmore, Lord, 226. Dutch. See Holland. Dutch West India Company, 25. Duty, on African goods, 10; on slaves imported, 10, 11, 12, 16-22, 26-32, 38, 40-42, 59, 62-66, 67, 68, 77-84, 89, 90, 95, 96, 196, 199-206, 208-27, 229, 232, 239, 247, 250. Dwight, Theodore, of Conn., 105 n. EARLY, Peter (of Ga.), 99 n., 100, 102, 104-08, 111. East Indies, 50. Economic revolution, 152-54. Edwards (of N.C.), Congressman, 122 n. Ellsworth, Oliver (of Conn.), in Federal Convention, 58, 59, 61. Elmer, Congressman, 106 n. Ely, Congressman, 103 n., 105 n. Emancipation of slaves, 31, 39, 42, 44, 68, 70, 76, 79-84, 192, 196, 226-29. "Encomium," case of, 143, 309. England, slave-trade policy, 9-14, 25, 30, 42, 46-50, 53, 54, 97, 134-51, 153, 191, 206, 207, 208, 252, 254, 256, 259, 265-69, 275, 276, 281, 285, 297, 301, 302, 303, 305. See Disallowance. English Colonies. See Colonies. "Enterprise," case of, 143, 309. Escambia River, 114. FAIRFAX County, Virginia, 49. Faneuil Hall, meeting in, 48. Federalist, the, on slave-trade, 69. Fernandina, port of, 116. Filibustering expeditions, 177. Findley, Congressman, 103 n. Fisk, Congressman, 100 n. Florida, 52, 102, 114, 116, 120, 166, 170, 180, 181. See St. Mary's River and Amelia Island. Foote, H.S. (of Miss.), 172. Forsyth, John, Secretary of State, 144, 146, 156 n., 176. Foster (of N.H.), Congressman, 81. Fowler, W.C., 112-13. Fox, C.J., English Cabinet Minister, 135 n. France, Revolution in, 133; Colonial slave-trade of, 46, 92, 133, 254; Convention of, 86, 133; at Congress of Vienna, 135; at Congress of Verona, 139; treaties with England, 143, 150, 275, 276; flag of, in slave-trade, 144; refuses to sign Quintuple Treaty, 147; invited to conference, 150. Franklin, Benjamin, 80. Friends, protest of, vs. slave-trade, 28-29; attitude towards slave-trade, 30-31, 33, 43, 68-69, 77, 204; petitions of, vs. slave-trade, 56, 57, 77, 84; reports of, on slave-trade, 167. GAILLARD, Congressman, 108. Gallatin, Albert, 91-92. Gallinas, port of, Africa, 128. Galveston, Tex., 115. Garnett (of Va.), Congressman, 109 n. "General Ramirez." See "Antelope." Georgia, slavery in, 13, 14; restrictions in, 15, 16, 75, 176-77; opposition to "Association," 51, 52; demands slave-trade, 16, 55, 60-67; attitude toward restrictions, 80, 81, 84, 132; smuggling to, 89, 95, 102, 114, 116, 117, 180, 181; Colonial and State statutes, 112, 215, 241, 244, 245, 257, 259, 276-77. Germanic Federation, 150. Gerry, Elbridge, in the Federal Convention, 59, 60; in Congress, 80, 81. Ghent, Treaty of, 136, 254. Giddings, J.R., 183 n., 284, 287. Giles, W.B. (of Va.), Congressman, 108. Gordon, Capt., slave-trader, 190 n. Good Hope, Cape of, 151, 160, 191. Gorham, N. (of Mass.), in Federal Convention, 58, 65. Goulden, W.B., 169. Graham, Secretary of the Navy, 185. Great Britain. See England. Gregory XVI., Pope, 145. Grenville-Fox ministry, 134. Guadaloupe, 88. Guinea. See Africa. Guizot, F., French Foreign Minister, 147. HABERSHAM, R.W., 130 n. Hamilton, Alexander, 58. Hanse Towns, 142. Harmony and Co., slave-traders, 165. Harper (of S.C.), Congressman, 92. Hartley, David, 80, 81. Hastings, Congressman, 105 n. Havana, Cuba, 119, 120, 145, 162, 165. Hawkins, Sir John, 9. Hayti, 144 n.; influence of the revolution, 74-77, 84-88, 96-97. See San Domingo. Heath, General, of Mass., 71. Henderick, Garrett, 28. Hill (of N.C.), Congressman, 85. Holland, participation of, in slave-trade, 24, 25, 47; slaves in Colonies, 133; abolishes slave-trade, 136; treaty with England, 137, 259; West India Company, 25. Holland, Congressman, 99 n., 103, 106 n. Hopkins, John, slave-trader, 131 n. Hopkins, Samuel, 41. Horn, Cape, 160, 162. Huger (of S.C.), Congressman, 87, 91 n. Hunter, Andrew, 169 n. Hunter, Governor of N.J., 32. Hutchinson, Wm., Governor of Mass., 38. IMPORT duties on slaves. See Duty. Indians, 29. Instructions to Governors, 12, 18-19, 27, 30, 33, 36; to naval officers, 119, 161, 185. See Disallowance. Insurrections. See Slaves. Iredell, James (of N.C.), 67, 71. Ireland, 48. JACKSON, Andrew, pardons slave-traders, 131 n. Jackson, J. (of Ga.), 78, 80, 81. Jacksonville, Fla., 181. Jamaica, 12. Jay, William, 134-35. Jefferson, Thomas, drafts Declaration of Independence, 53, 54; as President, messages on slave-trade, 92, 97-98, 251; signs Act of 1807, 110; pardons slave-traders, 131 n. Jefferson, Capt, slave-trader, 184. Johnson (of Conn.), 50, 63. Johnson (of La.), 141. Joint-cruising. See Cruising Conventions. KANE, Commissioner, 162. Keitt, L.M. (of S.C.), Congressman, 175. Kelly, Congressman, 108. Kenan, Congressman, 108. Kendall, Amos, 126 n. Kennedy, Secretary of the Navy, 185. Kentucky, 108 n., 170 n., 172 n. Key West, 185. Kilgore, resolutions in Congress, 175, 293. King, Rufus, in Federal Convention, 59, 63, 65. Knoxville, Tenn., 170. LA COSTE, Capt., slave-trader, 131. Lafitte, E., and Co., 177. Langdon, John, 59, 60, 63, 65. Lawrence (of N.Y.), 80, 81. Laws. See Statutes. Lee, Arthur, 48 n. Lee, R.H., 48 n., 49. Legislation. See Statutes. Le Roy, L., slave-trader, 131 n. Liberia, 124, 158. See African Agency. Lincoln, Abraham, 111, 126, 151, 190, 300-01. Liverpool, Eng., 53, 145. Livingstone (of N.Y.), in Federal Convention, 63. Lloyd, Congressman, 102 n., 106 n. London, Eng., 135, 137, 137 n., 147, 150, 154 n. "Louisa," slaver, 120, 121. Louisiana, sale of, 74, 97; slave-trade to, 75, 91-94; influence on S.C. repeal of 1803, 89; status of slave-trade to, 91-94, 171; State statutes, 177, 291. Low, I. (of N.Y.), 50. Lowndes, R. (of S.C.), 72, 89 n., 90. MCCARTHY, Governor of Sierra Leone, 115. McGregor Raid, the, 116. McIntosh, Collector of Revenue, 117 n. McKeever, Lieut., U.S.N., 120, 121. Macon, N., 100, 102 n., 109. Madeira, 185. Madison, James, in the Federal Convention, 59, 63, 64; in Congress, 78-81; as President, 113, 115, 137 n., 254, 255-56. Madrid, Treaty of, 257. Maine, 166. Manchester, Eng., 47. Mansfield, Capt., slave-trader, 184. "Marino," slaver, 120, 121. Martin, Luther (of Md.), in the Federal Convention, 59, 61, 63, 65. Maryland, slavery in, 14; restrictions in, 22, 23, 57, 76; attitude toward slave-trade, 65, 74, 83, 94; Colonial and State statutes, 201, 202, 209, 210, 219-20, 221, 223, 226, 229, 243, 251. Mason, George, 59, 61, 65-67, 71. Mason, J.M., 177. Massachusetts, in slave-trade, 34-36; restrictions in, 37-39, 77; attitude toward slave-trade, 71, 77, 83, 94; Colonial and State legislation, 199, 201, 203, 214, 223, 224, 228, 234, 248, 249, 261. Masters, Congressman, 99 n. Mathew, Capt., slave-trader, 184. Mathew, Governor of the Bahama Islands, 167. Matthews (of S.C.), 56. Meigs, Congressman, 132 n., 262. Memphis, Tenn., 181. Mercer, John (of Va.), 139 n., 142, 156 n. Messages, Presidential, 97-98, 113, 115, 141, 148, 157, 163, 251, 254, 255-60, 262, 264, 269, 271, 279, 280-81, 285, 291, 292, 294-95, 298, 300-01. Mesurado, Cape, 126, 158. Mexico, treaty with England, 144 n.; conquest of, 155, 161, 177. Mexico, Gulf of, 118, 159, 160, 166 n. Mickle, Calvin, 121. Middle Colonies, 24, 33, 57, 66. Middleton (of S.C.), Congressman, 126. Middletown, Conn., 43. Mifflin, W. (of Penn.), in Continental Congress, 50. Miles (of S.C.), Congressman, 175. Mississippi, slavery in, 91; illicit trade to, 102; legislation, 112, 254, 263, 283, 284. Missouri, 123. Missouri Compromise, 124. Mitchell, Gen. D.B., 118. Mitchell, S.L. (of N.Y.), Congressman, 89 n. Mixed courts for slave-traders, 137, 139, 151, 191. Mobile, Ala., illicit trade to, 118, 119, 161, 181. Monroe, James, as President, messages on slave-trade, 117, 141, 257, 258, 259-60, 262-63, 265, 269; establishment of African Agency, 126, 158; pardons, 131 n. Morbon, Wm., slave-trader, 131 n. Morris, Gouverneur, in Federal Convention, 59, 63, 64, 65. Morris, Governor of N.J., 33. Moseley, Congressman, 106. NANSEMOND County, Va., 49. Naples (Two Sicilies), 142. Napoleon I., 74, 134, 136, 254. Navigation Ordinance, 25. Navy, United States, 111, 115, 118-20, 123, 124, 128, 159-61, 163, 184-86, 191, 259, 286, 295, 301; reports of Secretary of, 185, 186, 318-31. Neal, Rev. Mr., in Mass. Convention, 71. Negroes, character of, 13-14. See Slaves. Negro plots, 18, 30, 204. Nelson, Hugh (of Va.), 122 n., 123 n. Nelson, Attorney-General, 162. Netherlands. See Holland. New England, slavery in, 14, 34, 44; slave-trade by, 34-36, 43, 57; Colonial statutes, see under individual Colonies. New Hampshire, restrictions in, 36, 37; attitude toward slave-trade, 34, 72, 94; State legislation, 250. New Jersey, slavery in, 14; restrictions in, 32, 33, 76; attitude toward slavery, 64, 74, 178; Colonial and State statutes, 200, 205, 221, 222, 225, 230, 244. New Mexico, 176. New Netherland, 24, 199, 200. New Orleans, illicit traffic to, 92, 115, 131 n., 161, 166, 171, 179. Newport, R.I., 35, 41. New York, slavery in, 14; restrictions in, 25-27; Abolition societies in, 74, 83; Colonial and State statutes, 203-04, 210, 213, 214, 218, 229-30, 234, 239, 245-46. New York City, illicit traffic at, 162, 166, 178-81, 190, 191. Nichols (of Va.), Congressman, 87. Norfolk, Va., 162. North Carolina, restrictions in, 19, 57, 76; "Association" in, 48, 55; reception of Constitution, 65, 71; cession of back-lands, 91; Colonial and State statutes, 112, 232, 241, 242, 255. Northwest Territory, 91. Nourse, Joseph, Registrar of the Treasury, 120 n. Nova Scotia, 52. Nunez River, Africa, 129. OGLETHORPE, General James, 15. Olin (of Vt.), Congressman, 105 n. Ordinance of 1787, 91. "Ostend Manifesto," 177. PAGE, John (of Va.), 81. Palmerston, Lord, 146. Panama Congress, 142 n. Pardons granted to slave-traders, 131 n. Paris, France, Treaty of, 134, 135, 137 n. Parker, R.E. (of Va.), 77-78, 81. Parliament, slave-trade in, 10, 134. Pastorius, F.D., 28. Paterson's propositions, 58. Peace negotiations of 1783, 134. Pemberton, Thomas, 34. Pennsylvania, slavery in, 14; restrictions in, 28-31, 76; attitude towards slave-trade, 56, 67, 70, 80, 83; in Constitutional Convention, 64; Colonial and State statutes, 201-05, 209, 211, 213-14, 220, 221, 222, 223, 227, 235-36. Pennsylvania Society for the Abolition of Slavery, 74, 80. Perdido River, 119. Perry, Commander, U.S.N., 162. Perry, Jesse, slave-trader, 131 n. Perry, Robert, slave-trader, 131 n. "Perry," U.S.S., 162, 165. Petitions, of Abolition societies, 56, 79-81, 83, 84; of free Negroes, 85, 86. Pettigrew (of S.C.), 176. Philadelphia, 162, 166. Pinckney, Charles (of S.C.), in Federal Convention, 58-60, 65. Pinckney, C.C. (of S.C.), in Federal Convention, 59-63, 64. Pindall, Congressman, 122 n., 123 n. Piracy, slave-trade made, 124-25, 140, 141, 146, 149, 155 n. Pitkin, T. (of Conn.), 99 n., 104 n. Pitt, William, 134. Plumer, Wm. (of N.H.), 127. Pollard, Edward, 176. Pongas River, Africa, 129. Portugal, treaties with England, 135, 137, 145 n., 150, 256; slaves in colonies, 46, 133; abolition of slave-trade by, 136, 144 n.; use of flag of, 144. Presidents. See under individual names. Price of slaves, 163. Prince George County, Va., 49. Privy Council, report to, 134. Proffit, U.S. Minister to Brazil, 164. Prohibition of slave-trade by Ga., 15, 75; S.C., 17, 89; N.C., 19; Va., 20; Md., 22; N.Y., 26; Vermont, 28; Penn., 28, 29; Del., 31; N.J., 32; N.H., 36; Mass., 37; R.I., 40; Conn., 43; United States, 110; England, 135; Confederate States, 188. See also Appendices. Providence, R.I., 42. Prussia at European Congresses, 135-36, 139, 147, 281. Pryor, R.A. (of Va.), 171. QUAKERS. See Friends. Quarantine of slaves, 16. Quebec, 52. Quincy, Josiah, Congressman, 100 n., 102 n. Quintuple Treaty, 145, 147, 281. RABUN, Wm., Governor of Ga., 127. Ramsey, David (of S.C.), 69. Randolph, Edmund, in the Federal Convention, 58, 59, 63. Randolph, John, Congressman, 106-07. Randolph, Thomas M., Congressman, 108. Registration of slaves, 16, 132 n., 258, 260. Revenue from slave-trade, 87, 90, 95, 111, 112. See Duty Acts. Rhode Island, slave-trade in, 34, 35, 85; restrictions in, 40-43; "Association" in, 48; reception of Constitution by, 72; abolition societies in, 42, 74, 83; Colonial and State legislation, 200, 203, 213, 214, 222, 223, 224-25, 227-30, 233. Rice Crop, 17, 20. Right of Search, 137-42, 145 n., 148-51, 156, 183, 185, 191, 256, 295. Rio Grande river, 176. Rio Janeiro, Brazil, 145, 160, 162. Rolfe, John, 25. Royal Adventurers, Company of, 10. Royal African Company, 10-11. Rum, traffic in, 35, 36, 50. Rush, Richard, Minister to England, 138. Russell, Lord John, 150, 297, 303. Russia in European Congresses, 135, 139, 147; signs Quintuple Treaty, 147, 281. Rutledge, Edward, in Federal Convention, 58-61, 65. Rutledge, John, Congressman, 84-87. ST. AUGUSTINE, 114. St. Johns, Island of, 52. St. Johns Parish, Ga., 52. St. Mary's River, Fla., 113-14, 116, 117. "Sanderson," slaver, 35 n. Sandiford, 29. San Domingo, trade with, stopped, 50, 96; insurrection in, 74, 84, 86, 96; deputies from, 133. Sardinia, 142. Savannah, Ga., 16, 51, 169. Search. See Right of Search. Sewall, Wm., slave-trader, 131 n. Seward, Wm. H., Secretary, 151, 289, 293. Seward (of Ga.), Congressman, 175. Sharpe, Granville, 134. Sherbro Islands, Africa, 158. Sherman, Roger, in the Federal Convention, 59, 60, 62, 65; in Congress, 78. Shields, Thomas, slave-trader, 131 n. Sierra Leone, 129, 151, 191. Sinnickson (of N.J.), Congressman, 81. Slave Power, the, 153, 198. Slavers: "Alexander," 129 n.; "Amedie," 138 n.; "L'Amistad," 143; "Antelope" ("Ramirez"), 132; "Comet," 143 n.; "Constitution," 120, 121; "Creole," 143; "Daphne," 129 n.; "Dorset," 115; "Eliza," 129 n.; "Emily," 185; "Encomium," 143 n.; "Endymion," 129 n.; "Esperanza," 129 n.; "Eugene," 115, 129 n.; "Fame," 162; "Fortuna," 138 n.; "Illinois," 149; "Le Louis," 138 n.; "Louisa," 120; "Marino," 120; "Martha," 165; "Mary," 131 n.; "Mathilde," 129 n.; "Paz," 115; "La Pensée," 129 n.; "Plattsburg," 128 n., 129 n.; "Prova," 165; "Ramirez" ("Antelope"), 129 n., 130; "Rebecca," 115; "Rosa," 115; "Sanderson," 35 n.; "San Juan Nepomuceno," 138 n.; "Saucy Jack," 115; "Science," 129 n.; "Wanderer," 180, 184, 186; "Wildfire," 190 n.; see also Appendix C. Slavery. See Table of Contents. Slaves, number imported, 11, 13, 23 n., 27 n., 31 n., 33 n., 36 n., 39 n., 40 n., 43 n., 44 n., 89, 94, 181; insurrections of, 13, 18, 30, 204; punishments of, 13; captured on high seas, 39, 56, 186; illegal traffic in, 88, 95, 112-21, 126-32, 165, 166, 179; abducted, 144. Slave-trade, see Table of Contents; internal, 9, 155; coastwise, 98, 106-09, 156, 161, 183, 191, 302. Slave-traders, 10, 11, 25, 34, 35, 37, 41, 93, 113, 119, 126-29, 146, 161, 176, 178, 180, 184; prosecution and conviction of, 119, 120, 121, 126, 127, 130, 161, 162, 183, 190, 191; Pardon of, 131; punishment of, 37, 104, 122, 127, 132, 190, 191, 199, 261, 264, 268, 274, 296. For ships, see under Slavers, and Appendix C. Slidell, John, 182. Sloan (of N.J.), Congressman, 99 n., 100, 105 n., 111, 251, 252. Smilie, John (of Pa.), Congressman, 99 n., 105 n., 104 n. Smith, Caleb B., 190. Smith, J.F., slave-trader, 131 n. Smith (of S.C.), Senator, 78-81, 93. Smith, Capt., slave-trader, 37. Smuggling of slaves, 76, 108, 109, 114, 116, 117, 127, 128, 129, 130, 166, 179-82. Sneed (of Tenn.), Congressman, 170. Soulé, Pierre, 177. South Carolina, slavery in, 13, 14, 17, 18, 93; restrictions in, 16-19, 75; attitude toward slave-trade, 49, 52, 55, 57, 81, 84; in the Federal Convention, 59-67, 70, 72; illicit traffic to, 89; repeal of prohibition, 89, 90, 92, 95; movement to reopen slave-trade, 169, 171, 172 n., 173; Colonial and State statutes, 201, 208-13, 215, 218, 220, 222, 229, 232, 237-38, 241-43, 245-47, 289-91. Southeby, Wm., 29. Southern Colonies, 15, 23. See under individual Colonies. Spaight, in Federal Convention, 65. Spain, signs Assiento, 11; colonial slave-trade of, 10; colonial slavery, 133; war with Dutch, 25; abolishes slave-trade, 136, 137, 145 n.; L'Amistad case with, 143; flag of, in slave-trade, 113, 114, 115, 144, 150, 159; treaties, 206, 208, 257. Spottswood, Governor of Virginia, 20. Spratt, L.W. (of S.C.), 171, 172, 190 n. Stanton (of R.I.), Congressman, 89 n., 106. States. See under individual States. Statutes, Colonial, see under names of individual Colonies; State, 56-57, 75-77; see under names of individual States, and Appendices A and B; United States, Act of 1794, 83, 242; Act of 1800, 85, 245; Act of 1803, 87, 246; Act of 1807, 97, 253; Act of 1818, 121, 258; Act of 1819, 123, 259; Act of 1820, 124, 261; Act of 1860, 187, 297; Act of 1862, 191, 302; see also Appendix B, 247, 248, 254, 264, 272, 273, 276, 277, 285, 286, 289, 291, 294, 300, 303, 304. Stephens, Alexander, 175. Stevenson, A., Minister to England, 146-47. Stone (of Md.), Congressman, 79, 81, 108. Stono, S.C., insurrection at, 18. Sumner, Charles, 192 n., 305. Sweden, 135, 142, 269; Delaware Colony, 31; slaves in Colonies, 133. Sylvester (of N.Y.), Congressman, 81. TAYLOR, Zachary, 286. Texas, 116, 144 n., 150, 155, 156, 165, 176, 180, 273, 277-78. Treaties, 11, 135-37, 141, 142, 145, 147-50, 151, 159, 206, 207, 228, 252, 254, 256, 259, 265, 269, 275, 276, 281, 285, 288, 292, 301-05. Trist, N., 160 n., 164, 165 n. Tyler, John, 148, 285, 286. UNDERWOOD, John C., 181. United States, 55, 74, 77, 84, 87, 88, 89, 90, 92, 97, 98, 102, 103, 110, 114, 117, 119, 120, 122, 126, 127, 128, 129, 133, 138, 136-51, 153, 156, 157, 158, 162-67, 168, 178, 179, 185, 188, 190, 242, 245-48, 264, 272-76, 277, 285, 286, 289, 291, 294, 297, 300-04. See also Table of Contents. Up de Graeff, Derick, 28. Up den Graef, Abraham, 28. Uruguay, 144 n. Utrecht, Treaty of, 207. VAN BUREN, Martin, 79-80. Van Rensselaer, Congressman, 108. Varnum, J., Congressman, 105 n. Venezuela, 144 n. Vermont, 28, 57, 94, 226, 228, 232, 249. Verona, Congress of, 139. Vicksburg, Miss., 172, 181. Vienna, Congress of, 135. Virginia, first slaves imported, 28, 306; slavery in, 14; restrictions in, 19-22, 76; frame of government of, 21; "Association" in, 48, 52, 57; in the Federal Convention, 61, 62, 64, 71; abolition sentiment in, 74, 78, 83; attitude on reopening the slave-trade, 171, 173 n.; Colonial and State statutes, 201-04, 213-15, 219-20, 222, 226, 227, 240, 249. WALLACE, L.R., slave-trader, 131 n. Waln (of Penn.), Congressman, 85. "Wanderer," case of the slaver, 180, 184. Washington, Treaty of (1842), 148-50, 170, 172, 182, 185, 285, 286, 288, 292. Watt, James, 152 n. Webster, Daniel, 147, 281. Webster, Noah, 68. Wentworth, Governor of N.H., 36. West Indies, slave-trade to and from, 10, 13, 17, 25, 35, 37, 41, 42, 46, 48, 50, 55, 114, 117, 141, 151, 275; slavery in, 13, 168, 193; restrictions on importation of slaves from, 26, 75, 76, 87; revolution in, 74-77, 84-88, 96-97; mixed court in, 151 n., 191. Western territory, 81, 261. Whitney, Eli, 153. Whydah, Africa, 149. Wilberforce, Wm., 134. Wilde, R.H., 132. "Wildfire," slaver, 190 n., 315. "William," case of the slaver, 315. Williams, D.R. (of N.C.), Congressman, 102 n., 109 n., 111. Williamsburg district, S.C., 169. Williamson (of S.C.), in Federal Convention, 59, 63, 65. Wilmington, N.C., 88. Wilson, James, in Federal Convention, 56, 58, 62, 70. Wilson (of Mass.), Congressman, 295, 296, 298. Winn, African agent, 158. Winston, Zenas, slave-trader, 131 n. Wirt, William, 118, 126 n., 130. Woolman, John, 29. Wright (of Va.), 126. YANCEY, W.L., 171. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES 1. Text surrounded by underscores (_) was italicised in the original. 2. Text surrounded by tildes (~) was bolded in the original. 3. Footnotes have been collected at the end of each chapter. Footnote numbering restarts with each new chapter. In the original, footnotes were collected at the bottom of each page and numbering restarted for each page. 4. Letters preceded by ^ and surrounded by {} indicates letters superscripted in the original. 
21714	----	THE RED ERIC, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE. CHAPTER ONE. THE TALE BEGINS WITH THE ENGAGING OF A "TAIL"--AND THE CAPTAIN DELIVERS HIS OPINIONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. Captain Dunning stood with his back to the fireplace in the back-parlour of a temperance coffee-house in a certain town on the eastern seaboard of America. The name of that town is unimportant, and, for reasons with which the reader has nothing to do, we do not mean to disclose it. Captain Dunning, besides being the owner and commander of a South Sea whale-ship, was the owner of a large burly body, a pair of broad shoulders, a pair of immense red whiskers that met under his chin, a short, red little nose, a large firm mouth, and a pair of light-blue eyes, which, according to their owner's mood, could flash like those of a tiger or twinkle sweetly like the eyes of a laughing child. But his eyes seldom flashed; they more frequently twinkled, for the captain was the very soul of kindliness and good-humour. Yet he was abrupt and sharp in his manner, so that superficial observers sometimes said he was hasty. Captain Dunning was, so to speak, a sample of three primary colours-- red, blue, and yellow--a walking fragment, as it were, of the rainbow. His hair and face, especially the nose, were red; his eyes, coat, and pantaloons were blue, and his waistcoat was yellow. At the time we introduce him to the reader he was standing, as we have said, with his back to the fireplace, although there was no fire, the weather being mild, and with his hands in his breeches pockets. Having worked with the said hands for many long years before the mast, until he had at last worked himself _behind_ the mast, in other words, on to the quarterdeck and into possession of his own ship, the worthy captain conceived that he had earned the right to give his hands a long rest; accordingly he stowed them away in his pockets and kept them there at all times, save when necessity compelled him to draw them forth. "Very odd," remarked Captain Dunning, looking at his black straw hat which lay on the table before him, as if the remark were addressed to it--"very odd if, having swallowed the cow, I should now be compelled to worry at the tail." As the black straw hat made no reply, the captain looked up at the ceiling, but not meeting with any response from that quarter, he looked out at the window and encountered the gaze of a seaman flattening his nose on a pane of glass, and looking in. The captain smiled. "Ah! here's a tail at last," he said, as the seaman disappeared, and in another moment reappeared at the door with his hat in his hand. It may be necessary, perhaps, to explain that Captain Dunning had just succeeded in engaging a first-rate crew for his next whaling voyage (which was the "cow" he professed to have swallowed), with the exception of a cook (which was the "tail," at which he feared he might be compelled to worry). "You're a cook, are you?" he asked, as the man entered and nodded. "Yes, sir," answered the "tail," pulling his forelock. "And an uncommonly ill-favoured rascally-looking cook you are," thought the captain; but he did not say so, for he was not utterly regardless of men's feelings. He merely said, "Ah!" and then followed it up with the abrupt question-- "Do you drink?" "Yes, sir, and smoke too," replied the "tail," in some surprise. "Very good; then you can go," said the captain, shortly. "Eh!" exclaimed the man: "You can go," repeated the captain. "You won't suit. My ship is a temperance ship, and all the hands are teetotalers. I have found from experience that men work better, and speak better, and in every way act better, on tea and coffee than on spirits. I don't object to their smoking; but I don't allow drinkin' aboard my ship; so you won't do, my man. Good-morning." The "tail" gazed at the captain in mute amazement. "Ah! you may look," observed the captain, replying to the gaze; "but you may also mark my words, if you will. I've not sailed the ocean for thirty years for nothing. I've seen men in hot seas and in cold--on grog, and on tea--and _I_ know that coffee and tea carry men through the hardest work better than grog. I also know that there's a set o' men in this world who look upon teetotalers as very soft chaps--old wives, in fact. Very good," (here the captain waxed emphatic, and struck his fist on the table.) "Now look here, young man, _I'm_ an old wife, and my ship's manned by similar old ladies; so you won't suit." To this the seaman made no reply, but feeling doubtless, as he regarded the masculine specimen before him, that he would be quite out of his element among such a crew of females, he thrust a quid of tobacco into his cheek, put on his hat, turned on his heel and left the room, shutting the door after him with a bang. He had scarcely left when a tap at the door announced a second visitor. "Hum! Another `tail,' I suppose. Come in." If the new-comer _was_ a "tail," he was decidedly a long one, being six feet three in his stockings at the very least. "You wants a cook, I b'lieve?" said the man, pulling off his hat. "I do. Are you one?" "Yes, I jist guess I am. Bin a cook for fifteen year." "Been to sea as a cook?" inquired the captain. "I jist have. Once to the South Seas, twice to the North, an' once round the world. Cook all the time. I've roasted, and stewed, and grilled, and fried, and biled, right round the 'arth, I have." Being apparently satisfied with the man's account of himself, Captain Dunning put to him the question--"Do you drink?" "Ay, like a fish; for I drinks nothin' but water, I don't. Bin born and raised in the State of Maine, d'ye see, an' never tasted a drop all my life." "Very good," said the captain, who plumed himself on being a clever physiognomist, and had already formed a good opinion of the man. "Do you ever swear?" "Never, but when I can't help it." "And when's that?" "When I'm fit to bu'st." "Then," replied the captain, "you must learn to bu'st without swearin', 'cause I don't allow it aboard my ship." The man evidently regarded his questioner as a very extraordinary and eccentric individual; but he merely replied, "I'll try;" and after a little further conversation an agreement was come to; the man was sent away with orders to repair on board immediately, as everything was in readiness to "up anchor and away next morning." Having thus satisfactorily and effectually disposed of the "tail," Captain Dunning put on his hat very much on the back of his head, knit his brows, and pursed his lips firmly, as if he had still some important duty to perform; then, quitting the hotel, he traversed the streets of the town with rapid strides. CHAPTER TWO. IMPORTANT PERSONAGES ARE INTRODUCED TO THE READER--THE CAPTAIN MAKES INSANE RESOLUTIONS, FIGHTS A BATTLE, AND CONQUERS. In the centre of the town whose name we have declined to communicate, there stood a house--a small house--so small that it might have been more appropriately, perhaps, styled a cottage. This house had a yellow-painted face, with a green door in the middle, which might have been regarded as its nose, and a window on each side thereof, which might have been considered its eyes. Its nose was, as we have said, painted green, and its eyes had green Venetian eyelids, which were half shut at the moment Captain Dunning walked up to it as if it were calmly contemplating that seaman's general appearance. There was a small garden in front of the house, surrounded on three sides by a low fence. Captain Dunning pushed open the little gate, walked up to the nose of the house, and hit it several severe blows with his knuckles. The result was that the nose opened, and a servant-girl appeared in the gap. "Is your mistress at home?" inquired the captain. "Guess she is--both of 'em!" replied the girl. "Tell both of 'em I'm here, then," said the captain, stepping into the little parlour without further ceremony; "and is my little girl in?" "Yes, she's in." "Then send her here too, an' look alive, lass." So saying, Captain Dunning sat down on the sofa, and began to beat the floor with his right foot somewhat impatiently. In another second a merry little voice was heard in the passage, the door burst open, a fair-haired girl of about ten years of age sprang into the room, and immediately commenced to strangle her father in a series of violent embraces. "Why, Ailie, my darling, one would think you had not seen me for fifty years at least," said the captain, holding his daughter at arm's-length, in order the more satisfactorily to see her. "It's a whole week, papa, since you last came to see me," replied the little one, striving to get at her father's neck again, "and I'm sure it seems to me like a hundred years at least." As the child said this she threw her little arms round her father, and kissed his large, weather-beaten visage all over--eyes, mouth, nose, chin, whiskers, and, in fact, every attainable spot. She did it so vigorously, too, that an observer would have been justified in expecting that her soft, delicate cheeks would be lacerated by the rough contact; but they were not. The result was a heightening of the colour, nothing more. Having concluded this operation, she laid her cheek on the captain's and endeavoured to clasp her hands at the back of his neck, but this was no easy matter. The captain's neck was a remarkably thick one, and the garments about that region were voluminous; however, by dint of determination, she got the small fingers intertwined, and then gave him a squeeze that ought to have choked him, but it didn't: many a strong man had tried that in his day, and had failed signally. "You'll stay a long time with me before you go away to sea again, won't you, dear papa?" asked the child earnestly, after she had given up the futile effort to strangle him. "How like!" murmured the captain, as if to himself, and totally unmindful of the question, while he parted the fair curls and kissed Ailie's forehead. "Like what, papa?" "Like your mother--your beloved mother," replied the captain, in a low, sad voice. The child became instantly grave, and she looked up in her father's face with an expression of awe, while he dropped his eyes on the floor. Poor Alice had never known a mother's love. Her mother died when she was a few weeks old, and she had been confided to the care of two maiden aunts--excellent ladies, both of them; good beyond expression; correct almost to a fault; but prim, starched, and extremely self-possessed and judicious, so much so that they were injudicious enough to repress some of the best impulses of their natures, under the impression that a certain amount of dignified formality was essential to good breeding and good morals in every relation of life. Dear, good, starched Misses Dunning! if they had had their way, boys would have played cricket and football with polite urbanity, and girls would have kissed their playmates with gentle solemnity. They did their best to subdue little Alice, but that was impossible. The child _would_ rush about the house at all unexpected and often inopportune seasons, like a furiously insane kitten and she _would_ disarrange their collars too violently every evening when she bade them good-night. Alice was intensely sympathetic. It was quite enough for her to see any one in tears, to cause her to open up the flood-gates of her eyes and weep--she knew not and she cared not why. She threw her arms round her father's neck again, and hugged him, while bright tears trickled like diamonds from her eyes. No diamonds are half so precious or so difficult to obtain as tears of genuine sympathy! "How would you like to go with me to the whale-fishery?" inquired Captain Dunning, somewhat abruptly as he disengaged the child's arms and set her on his knee. The tears stopped in an instant, as Alice leaped, with the happy facility of childhood, totally out of one idea and thoroughly into another. "Oh, I should like it _so_ much!" "And how much is `so' much, Ailie?" inquired the captain. Ailie pursed her mouth, and looked at her father earnestly, while she seemed to struggle to give utterance to some fleeting idea. "Think," she said quickly, "think something good _as much as ever you can_. Have you thought?" "Yes," answered the captain, smiling. "Then," continued Ailie, "its twenty thousand million times as much as that, and a great deal more!" The laugh with which Captain Dunning received this curious explanation of how much his little daughter wished to go with him to the whale-fishery, was interrupted by the entrance of his sisters, whose sense of propriety induced them to keep all visitors waiting at least a quarter of an hour before they appeared, lest they should be charged with unbecoming precipitancy. "Here you are, lassies; how are ye?" cried the captain as he rose and kissed each lady on the cheek heartily. The sisters did not remonstrate. They knew that their brother was past hope in this respect, and they loved him, so they suffered it meekly. Having admitted that they were well--as well, at least, as could be expected, considering the cataract of "trials" that perpetually descended upon their devoted heads--they sat down as primly as if their visitor were a perfect stranger, and entered into a somewhat lengthened conversation as to the intended voyage, commencing, of course, with the weather. "And now," said the captain, rubbing the crown of his straw hat in a circular manner, as if it were a beaver, "I'm coming to the point." Both ladies exclaimed, "What point, George?" simultaneously, and regarded the captain with a look of anxious surprise. "_The_ point," replied the captain, "about which I've come here to-day. It ain't a point o' the compass; nevertheless, I've been steerin' it in my mind's eye for a considerable time past. The fact is" (here the captain hesitated), "I--I've made up my mind to take my little Alice along with me this voyage." The Misses Dunning wore unusually tall caps, and their countenances were by nature uncommonly long, but the length to which they grew on hearing this announcement was something preternaturally awful. "Take Ailie to sea!" exclaimed Miss Martha Dunning, in horror. "To fish for whales!" added Miss Jane Dunning, in consternation. "Brother, you're mad!" they exclaimed together, after a breathless pause; "and you'll do nothing of the kind," they added firmly. Now, the manner in which the Misses Dunning received this intelligence greatly relieved their eccentric brother. He had fully anticipated, and very much dreaded, that they would at once burst into tears, and being a tender-hearted man he knew that he could not resist that without a hard struggle. A flood of woman's tears, he was wont to say, was the only sort of salt water storm he hadn't the heart to face. But abrupt opposition was a species of challenge which the captain always accepted at once--off-hand. No human power could force him to any course of action. In this latter quality Captain Dunning was neither eccentric nor singular. "I'm sorry you don't like my proposal, my dear sisters," said he; "but I'm resolved." "You won't!" said Martha. "You shan't!" cried Jane. "I _will_!" replied the captain. There was a pause here of considerable length, during which the captain observed that Martha's nostrils began to twitch nervously. Jane, observing the fact, became similarly affected. To the captain's practised eye these symptoms were as good as a barometer. He knew that the storm was coming, and took in all sail at once (mentally) to be ready for it. It came! Martha and Jane Dunning were for once driven from the shelter of their wonted propriety--they burst simultaneously into tears, and buried their respective faces in their respective pocket-handkerchiefs, which were immaculately clean and had to be hastily unfolded for the purpose. "Now, now, my dear girls," cried the captain, starting up and patting their shoulders, while poor little Ailie clasped her hands, sat down on a footstool, looked up in their faces--or, rather, at the backs of the hands which covered their faces--and wept quietly. "It's very cruel, George--indeed it is," sobbed Martha; "you know how we love her." "Very true," remarked the obdurate captain; "but you _don't_ know how _I_ love her, and how sad it makes me to see so little of her, and to think that she may be learning to forget me--or, at least," added the captain, correcting himself as Ailie looked at him reproachfully through her tears--"at least to do without me. I can't bear the thought. She's all I have left to me, and--" "Brother," interrupted Martha, looking hastily up, "did you ever before hear of such a thing as taking a little girl on a voyage to the whale-fishing?" "No, never," replied the captain; "what has that got to do with it?" Both ladies held up their hands and looked aghast. The idea of any man venturing to do what no one ever thought of doing before was so utterly subversive of all their ideas of propriety--such a desperate piece of profane originality--that they remained speechless. "George," said Martha, drying her eyes, and speaking in tones of deep solemnity, "did you ever read _Robinson Crusoe_?" "Yes, I did, when I was a boy; an' that wasn't yesterday." "And did you," continued the lady in the same sepulchral tone, "did you note how that man--that beacon, if I may use the expression, set up as a warning to deter all wilful boys and men from reckless, and wicked, and wandering, and obstreperous courses--did you note, I say, how that man, that beacon, was shipwrecked, and spent a dreary existence on an uninhabited and dreadful island, in company with a low, dissolute, black, unclothed companion called Friday?" "Yes," answered the captain, seeing that she paused for a reply. "And all," continued Martha, "in consequence of his resolutely and obstinately, and wilfully and wickedly going to sea?" "Well, it couldn't have happened if he hadn't gone to sea, no doubt." "Then," argued Martha, "will you, can you, George, contemplate the possibility of your only daughter coming to the same dreadful end?" George, not exactly seeing the connection, rubbed his nose with his forefinger, and replied--"Certainly not." "Then you are bound," continued Martha, in triumph, "by all that is upright and honourable, by all the laws of humanity and _propriety_, to give up this wild intention--and you _must_!" "There!" cried Miss Jane emphatically, as if the argument were unanswerable--as indeed it was, being incomprehensible. The last words were unfortunate. They merely riveted the captain's determination. "You talk a great deal of nonsense, Martha," he said, rising to depart. "I've fixed to take her, so the sooner you make up your minds to it the better." The sisters knew their brother's character too well to waste more time in vain efforts; but Martha took him by the arm, and said earnestly--"Will you promise me, my dear George, that when she comes back from this voyage, you will never take her on another?" "Yes, dear sister," replied the captain, somewhat melted, "I promise that." Without another word Martha sat down and held out her arms to Ailie, who incontinently rushed into them. Propriety fled for the nonce, discomfited. Miss Martha's curls were disarranged beyond repair, and Miss Martha's collar was crushed to such an extent that the very laundress who had washed and starched and ironed it would have utterly failed to recognise it. Miss Jane looked on at these improprieties in perfect indifference--nay, when, after her sister had had enough, the child was handed over to her, she submitted to the same violent treatment without a murmur. For once Nature was allowed to have her way, and all three had a good hearty satisfactory cry; in the midst of which Captain Dunning left them, and, proceeding on board his ship, hastened the preparations for his voyage to the Southern Seas. CHAPTER THREE. THE TEA-PARTY--ACCIDENTS AND INCIDENTS OF A MINOR KIND--GLYNN PROCTOR GETS INTO TROUBLE. On the evening of the day in which the foregoing scenes were enacted, the Misses Dunning prepared a repast for their brother and one or two of his officers, who were to spend the last evening in port there, and discuss various important and unimportant matters in a sort of semi-convivio-business way. An event of this kind was always of the deepest interest and productive of the most intense anxiety to the amiable though starched sisters; first, because it was of rare occurrence; and second, because they were never quite certain that it would pass without some unhappy accident, such as the upsetting of a tea-cup or a kettle, or the scalding of the cat, not to mention visitors' legs. They seemed to regard a tea-party in the light of a firearm--a species of blunderbuss--a thing which, it was to be hoped, would "go off well"; and, certainly, if loading the table until it groaned had anything to do with the manner of its "going off," there was every prospect of its doing so with pre-eminent success upon that occasion. But besides the anxieties inseparable from the details of the pending festivities, the Misses Dunning were overwhelmed and weighed down with additional duties consequent upon their brother's sudden and unexpected determination. Little Ailie had to be got ready for sea by the following morning! It was absolute and utter insanity! No one save a madman or a sea-captain could have conceived such a thing, much less have carried it into effect tyrannically. The Misses Dunning could not attempt any piece of duty or work separately. They always acted together, when possible; and might, in fact, without much inconvenience, have been born Siamese twins. Whatever Martha did, Jane attempted to do or to mend; wherever Jane went, Martha followed. Not, by any means, that one thought she could improve upon the work of the other; their conduct was simply the result of a desire to assist each other mutually. When Martha spoke, Jane echoed or corroborated; and when Jane spoke, Martha repeated her sentences word for word in a scarcely audible whisper--not after the other had finished, but during the course of the remarks. With such dispositions and propensities, it is not a matter to be wondered at that the good ladies, while arranging the tea-table, should suddenly remember some forgotten article of Ailie's wardrobe, and rush simultaneously into the child's bedroom to rectify the omission; or, when thus engaged, be filled with horror at the thought of having left the buttered toast too near the fire in the parlour. "It is really quite perplexing," said Martha, sitting down with a sigh, and regarding the tea-table with a critical gaze; "quite perplexing. I'm sure I don't know how I shall bear it. It is too bad of George-- darling Ailie--(dear me, Jane, how crookedly you have placed the urn)-- it is really too bad." "Too bad, indeed; yes, isn't it?" echoed Jane, in reference to the captain's conduct, while she assisted Martha, who had risen to readjust the urn. "Oh!" exclaimed Martha, with a look of horror. "What?" cried Jane, who looked and felt equally horrified, although she knew not yet the cause. "The eggs!" "The eggs?" "Yes, the eggs. You know every one of the last dozen we got was bad, and we've forgot to send for more," said Martha. "For more; so we have!" cried Jane; and both ladies rushed into the kitchen, gave simultaneous and hurried orders to the servant-girl, and sent her out of the house impressed with an undefined feeling that life or death depended on the instant procuring of two dozen fresh eggs. It may be as well to remark here, that the Misses Dunning, although stiff, and starched, and formal, had the power of speeding nimbly from room to room, when alone and when occasion required, without in the least degree losing any of their stiffness or formality, so that we do not use the terms "rush," "rushed," or "rushing" inappropriately. Nevertheless, it may also be remarked that they never acted in a rapid or impulsive way in company, however small in numbers or unceremonious in character the company might be--always excepting the servant-girl and the cat, to whose company, from long habit, they had become used, and therefore indifferent. The sisters were on their knees, stuffing various articles into a large trunk, and Ailie was looking on, by way of helping, with very red and swollen eyes, and the girl was still absent in quest of eggs, when a succession of sounding blows were administered to the green door, and a number of gruff voices were heard conversing without. "_There_!" cried Martha and Jane, with bitter emphasis, looking in each other's faces as if to say, "We knew it. Before that girl was sent away for these eggs, we each separately and privately prophesied that they would arrive, and that we should have to open the door. And you see, so it has happened, and we are not ready!" But there was no time for remark. The case was desperate. Both sisters felt it to be so, and acted accordingly, while Ailie, having been forbidden to open the door, sat down on her trunk, and looked on in surprise. They sprang up, washed their hands simultaneously in the same basin, with the same piece of soap broken in two; dried them with the same towel, darted to the mirror, put on two identically similar clean tall caps, leaped down-stairs, opened the door with slow dignity of demeanour, and received their visitors in the hall with a calmness and urbanity of manner that contrasted rather strangely with their flushed countenances and heaving bosoms. "Hallo! Ailie!" exclaimed the captain, as his daughter pulled down his head to be kissed. "Why, you take a fellow all aback, like a white squall. Are you ready, my pet? Kit stowed and anchor tripped? Come this way, and let us talk about it. Dear me, Martha, you and Jane--look as if you had been running a race, eh? Here are my messmates come to talk a bit with you. My sisters, Martha and Jane--Dr Hopley." (Dr Hopley bowed politely.) "My first mate, Mr Millons" (Mr Millons also bowed, somewhat loosely); "and Rokens--Tim Rokens, my chief harpooner." (Mr Rokens pulled his forelock, and threw back his left leg, apparently to counterbalance the bend in his body.) "He didn't want to come; said he warn't accustomed to ladies' society; but I told him you warn't ladies--a--I don't mean that--not ladies o' the high-flyin' fashionable sort, that give themselves airs, you know. Come along, Ailie." While the captain ran on in this strain, hung up his hat, kissed Ailie, and ran his fingers through his shaggy locks, the Misses Dunning performed a mingled bow and courtsey to each guest as his name was mentioned, and shook hands with him, after which the whole party entered the parlour, where the cat was discovered enjoying a preliminary meal of its own at one of the pats of butter. A united shriek from Martha and Jane, a nautical howl from the guests, and a rolled-up pocket-handkerchief from Rokens sent that animal from the table as if it had received a galvanic shock. "I ax yer parding, ladies," said Mr Rokens, whose aim had been so perfect that his handkerchief not only accelerated the flight of the cat, but carried away the violated pat of butter along with it. "I ax yer parding, but them brutes is sich thieves--I could roast 'em alive, so I could." The harpooner unrolled his handkerchief, and picking the pat of butter from its folds with his fingers, threw it into the fire. Thereafter he smoothed down his hair, and seated himself on the extreme edge of a chair, as near the door as possible. Not that he had any intention whatever of taking to flight, but he deemed that position to be more suited to his condition than any other. In a few minutes the servant-girl returned with the eggs. While she is engaged in boiling them, we shall introduce Captain Dunning's friends and messmates to the reader. Dr Hopley was a surgeon, and a particular friend of the captain's. He was an American by birth, but had travelled so much about the world that he had ceased to "guess" and "calculate," and to speak through his nose. He was a man about forty, tall, big-boned, and muscular, though not fat; and besides being a gentlemanly man, was a good-natured, quiet creature, and a clever enough fellow besides, but he preferred to laugh at and enjoy the jokes and witticisms of others rather than to perpetrate any himself. Dr Hopley was intensely fond of travelling, and being possessed of a small independence, he indulged his passion to the utmost. He had agreed to go with Captain Dunning as the ship's doctor, simply for the sake of seeing the whale-fishery of the South Seas, having already, in a similar capacity, encountered the dangers of the North. Dr Hopley had few weaknesses. His chief one was an extravagant belief in phrenology. We would not be understood to imply that phrenology is extravagant; but we assert that the doctor's belief in it was extravagant, assigning, as he did, to every real and ideal facility of the human mind "a local habitation and a name" in the cranium, with a corresponding depression or elevation of the surface to mark its whereabouts. In other respects he was a commonplace sort of a man. Mr Millons, the first mate, was a short, hale, thick-set man, without any particularly strong points of character. He was about thirty-five, and possessed a superabundance of fair hair and whiskers, with a large, broad chin, a firm mouth, rather fierce-looking eyes, and a hasty, but by no means a bad temper. He was a trustworthy, matter-of-fact seaman, and a good officer, but not bright intellectually. Like most men of his class, his look implied that he did not under-estimate his own importance, and his tones were those of a man accustomed to command. Tim Rokens was an old salt; a bluff, strong, cast-iron man, of about forty-five years of age, who had been at sea since he was a little boy, and would not have consented to live on dry land, though he had been "offered command of a seaport town all to himself," as he was wont to affirm emphatically. His visage was scarred and knotty, as if it had been long used to being pelted by storms--as indeed it had. There was a scar over his left eye and down his cheek, which had been caused by a slash from the cutlass of a pirate in the China Seas; but although it added to the rugged effect of his countenance, it did not detract from the frank, kindly expression that invariably rested there. Tim Rokens had never been caught out of temper in his life. Men were wont say he had no temper to lose. Whether this was true or no, we cannot presume to say, but certainly he never lost it. He was the best and boldest harpooner in Captain Dunning's ship, and a sententious deliverer of his private opinion on all occasions whatsoever. When we say that he wore a rough blue pilot-cloth suit, and had a large black beard, with a sprinkling of silver hairs in it, we have completed his portrait. "What's come of Glynn?" inquired Captain Dunning, as he accepted a large cup of smoking tea with one hand, and with the other handed a plate of buttered toast to Dr Hopley, who sat next him. "I really cannot imagine," replied Miss Martha. "No, cannot imagine," whispered Miss Jane. "He promised to come, and to be punctual," continued Miss Martha ("Punctual," whispered Miss J), "but something seems to have detained him. Perhaps--" Here Miss Martha was brought to an abrupt pause by observing that Mr Rokens was about to commence to eat his egg with a teaspoon. "Allow me, Mr Rokens," she said, handing that individual an ivory eggspoon. "Oh, cer'nly, ma'am. By all means," replied Rokens, taking the spoon and handing it to Miss Jane, under the impression that it was intended for her. "I beg pardon, it is for yourself, Mr Rokens," said Martha and Jane together. "Thank'ee, ma'am," replied Rokens, growing red, as he began to perceive he was a little "off his course" somehow. "I've no occasion for _two_, an' this one suits me oncommon." "Ah! you prefer big spoons to little ones, my man, don't you?" said Captain Dunning, coming to the rescue. "Let him alone, Martha, he's used to take care of himself. Doctor, can you tell me now, which is the easiest of digestion--a hard egg or a soft one?" Thus appealed to, Dr Hopley paused a moment and frowned at the teapot, as though he were about to tax his brain to the utmost in the solution of an abstruse question in medical science. "Well now," he replied, stirring his tea gently, and speaking with much deliberation, "that depends very much upon circumstances. Some digestions can manage a hard egg best, others find a soft one more tractable. And then the state of the stomach at the time of eating has to be taken into account. I should say now, that my little friend Ailie, here, to judge from the rosy colour of her cheeks, could manage hard or soft eggs equally well; couldn't you, eh?" Ailie laughed, as she replied, "I'm sure I don't know, Doctor Hopley; but I _like_ soft ones best." To this, Captain Dunning said, "Of course you do, my sensible little pet;" although it would be difficult to show wherein lay the sensibility of the preference, and then added--"There's Rokens, now; wouldn't you, doctor--judging from his rosy, not to say purple cheeks--conclude that he wasn't able to manage even two eggs of any kind?" "Wot, _me_!" exclaimed Mr Rokens, looking up in surprise, as indeed he well might, having just concluded his fourth, and being about to commence his fifth egg, to the no small anxiety of Martha and Jane, into whose limited and innocent minds the possibility of such a feat had never entered. "Wot, _me_! Why, capting, if they was biled as hard as the head of a marline-spike--" The expanding grin on the captain's face, and a sudden laugh from the mate, apprised the bold harpooner at this point of his reply that the captain was jesting, so he felt a little confused, and sought relief by devoting himself assiduously to egg Number 5. It fared ill with Tim Rokens that evening that he had rashly entered into ladies' society, for he was a nervous man in refined company, though cool and firm as a grounded iceberg when in the society of his messmates, or when towing with the speed of a steamboat in the wake of a sperm-whale. Egg Number 5 proved to be a bad one. Worse than that, egg Number 5 happened to belong to that peculiar class of bad eggs which "go off" with a little crack when hit with a spoon, and sputter their unsavoury contents around them. Thus it happened, that when Mr Rokens, feeling confused, and seeking relief in attention to the business then in hand, hit egg Number 5 a smart blow on the top, a large portion of its contents spurted over the fair white tablecloth, a small portion fell on Mr Rokens' vest, and a minute yellow globule thereof alighted on the fair Martha's hand, eliciting from that lady a scream, and as a matter of course, an echo from Jane in the shape of a screamlet. Mr Rokens flushed a deep Indian-red, and his nose assumed a warm blue colour instantly. "Oh! ma'am, I ax yer parding." "Pray don't mention it--a mere accident. I'm so sorry you have got a bad--Oh!" The little scream with which Miss Martha interrupted her remark was caused by Mr Rokens (who had just observed the little yellow globule above referred to) seizing her hand, and wiping away the speck with the identical handkerchief that had floored the cat and swept away the pat of butter. Immediately thereafter, feeling heated, he wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and unwittingly transferred the spot thereto in the form of a yellow streak, whereat Ailie and the first mate burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Even Miss Martha smiled, although she rather objected to jesting, as being a dangerous amusement, and never laughed at the weaknesses or misfortunes of others, however ludicrous they might be, when she could help it. "How can you, brother?" she said, reproachfully, shaking her head at the captain, who was winking at the doctor with one eye in a most obstreperous manner. "Do try another egg, Mr Rokens; the others, I am sure, are fresh. I cannot imagine how a bad one came to be amongst them." "Ah, try another, my lad," echoed the captain. "Pass 'em up this way, Mr Millons." "By no manner o' means; I'll eat this 'un!" replied the harpooner, commencing to eat the bad egg with apparent relish. "I like 'em this way--better than nothin', anyhow. Bless ye, marm, ye've no notion wot sort o' things I've lived on aboard ship--" Rokens came to an abrupt pause in consequence of the servant-girl, at a sign from her mistresses (for she always received duplicate orders), seizing his plate and carrying it off bodily. It was immediately replaced by a clean one and a fresh egg. While Rokens somewhat nervously tapped the head of Number 6, Miss Martha, in order to divert attention from him, asked Mr Millons if sea-fare was always salt junk and hard biscuit? "Oh, no, madam," answered the first mate. "We've sometimes salt pork, and vegetables now and agin; and pea-soup, and plum-duff--" "Plum-duff, Ailie," interrupted the captain, in order to explain, "is just a puddin' with few plums and fewer spices in it. Something like a white-painted cannon-shot, with brown spots on it here and there." "Is it good?" inquired Ailie. "Oh, ain't it!" remarked Mr Rokens, who had just concluded Number 6, and felt his self-possession somewhat restored. "Yes, miss, it is; but it ain't equal to whale's-brain fritters, it ain't; them's first-chop." "Have whales got brains?" inquired Miss Martha, in surprise. "Brains!" echoed Miss Jane, in amazement. "Yes, madam, they 'ave," answered the first mate, who had hitherto maintained silence, but having finished tea was now ready for any amount of talk; "and what's more remarkable still, they've got several barrels of oil in their skulls besides." "Dear me!" exclaimed the sisters. "Yes, ladies, capital oil it is, too; fetches a 'igher price hin the markit than the other sort." "By the bye, Millons, didn't you once fall into a whale's skull, and get nearly drowned in oil?" inquired the doctor. "I did," answered the first mate, with the air of a man who regarded such an event as a mere trifle, that, upon consideration, might almost be considered as rather a pleasant incident than otherwise in one's history. "Nearly drowned in oil!" exclaimed the sisters, while Ailie opened her eyes in amazement, and Mr Rokens became alarmingly purple in the face with suppressed chuckling. "It's true," remarked Rokens, in a hoarse whisper to Miss Martha, putting his hand up to his mouth, the better to convey the sound to her ears; "I seed him tumble in, and helped to haul him out." "Let's have the story, Millons," cried the captain, pushing forward his cup to be replenished; "It's so long since I heard it, that I've almost forgotten it. Another cup o' tea, Martha, my dear--not quite so strong as the last, and three times as sweet. I'll drink `Success to the cup that cheers, but don't inebriate.' Go ahead, Millons." Nothing rejoiced the heart of Mr Millons more than being asked to tell a story. Like most men who are excessively addicted to the habit, his stories were usually very long and very dry; but he had a bluff good-natured way of telling them, that rendered his yarns endurable on shore, and positively desirable at sea. Fortunately for the reader, the story he was now requested to relate was not a long one. "It ain't quite a _story_," he began--and in beginning he cleared his throat with emphasis, thrust his thumbs into the arm-holes of his vest, and tilted his chair on its hind-legs--"it ain't quite a story; it's a hanecdote, a sort of hincident, so to speak, and this is 'ow it 'appened:-- "Many years ago, w'en I was a very young man, or a big boy, I was on a voyage to the South Seas after whales. Tim Rokens was my messmate then, and has bin so almost ever since, off, and on." (Mr Rokens nodded assent to this statement.) "Well, we came up with a big whale, and fixed an iron cleverly in him at the first throw--" "An iron?" inquired Miss Martha, to whose mind flat and Italian irons naturally occurred. "Yes, madam, an iron; we call the 'arpoons irons. Well, away went the fish, like all alive! not down, but straight for'ard, takin' out the line at a rate that nearly set the boat on fire, and away we went along with it. It _was_ a chase, that. For six hours, off and on, we stuck to that whale, and pitched into 'im with 'arpoons and lances; but he seemed to have the lives of a cat--nothin' would kill 'im. At last the 'arpooner gave him a thrust in the life, an' up went the blood and water, and the fish went into the flurries, and came nigh capsizin' the boat with its tail as it lashed the water into foam. At last it gave in, and we had a four hours' pull after that, to tow the carcase to the ship, for there wasn't a cat's-paw of wind on the water. "W'en we came alongside, we got out the tackles, and before beginning to flense (that means, ma'am, to strip off the blubber), we cut a hole in the top o' the skull to get out the oil that was there; for you must know that the sperm-whale has got a sort of 'ollow or big cavern in its 'ead, w'ich is full o' the best oil, quite pure, that don't need to be cleared, but is all ready to be baled out and stowed away in casks. Well, w'en the 'ole was cut in its skull I went down on my knees on the edge of it to peep in, when my knees they slipped on the blubber, and in I went 'ead-foremost, souse into the whale's skull, and began to swim for life in the oil. "Of course I began to roar for 'elp like a bull, and Rokens there, 'oo 'appened to be near, 'e let down the hend of a rope, but my 'ands was so slippy with oil I couldn't ketch 'old of it; so 'e 'auls it up agin, and lets down a rope with a 'ook at the hend, and I got 'old of this and stuck it into the waistband o' my trousers, and gave the word, `'Eave away, my 'earties;' and sure enough so they did, and pulled me out in a trice. And that's 'ow it was; and I lost a suit o' clo's, for nothing on 'arth would take the oil out, and I didn't need to use pomatum for six months after." "No more you did," cried Rokens, who had listened to the narrative with suppressed delight; "no more you did. I never see sich a glazed rat as you wos when you comed out o' that hole, in all my life; an' he wos jist like a eel; it wos all we could do to keep 'old on 'im, marm, he was so slippery." While the captain was laughing at the incident, and Rokens was narrating some of the minute details in the half-unwilling yet half-willing ears of the sisters, the door opened, and a young man entered hastily and apologised for being late. "The fact is, Miss Dunning, had I not promised faithfully to come, I should not have made my appearance at all to-night." "Why, Glynn, what has kept you, lad?" interrupted the captain. "I thought you were a man of your word." "Ay, that's the question, capting," said Rokens, who evidently regarded the new arrival with no favourable feelings; "it's always the way with them _gentlemen_ sailors till they're got into blue water and brought to their bearin's." Mr Rokens had wisdom enough to give forth the last part of his speech in a muttered tone, for the youth was evidently a favourite with the captain, as was shown by the hearty manner in which he shook him by the hand. "Messmates, this is Glynn Proctor, a friend o' mine," said Captain Dunning, in explanation: "he is going with us this voyage _before_ the mast, so you'll have to make the most of him as an equal to-night, for I intend to keep him in his proper place when afloat. He chooses to go as an ordinary seaman, against my advice, the scamp; so I'll make him keep his head as low as the rest when aboard. You'll to keep your time better, too, than you have done to-night, lad," continued the captain, giving his young friend a slap on the shoulder. "What has detained you, eh?" "Necessity, captain," replied the youth, with a smile, as he sat down to table with an off-hand easy air that savoured of recklessness; "and I am prepared to state, upon oath if need be, that necessity is not `the mother of invention.' If she had been, she would have enabled me to invent a way of escape from my persecutors in time to keep my promise to Miss Dunning." "Persecutors, Glynn!" exclaimed Martha; "to whom do you refer?" "To the police of this good city." "Police!" echoed the captain, regarding his young friend seriously, while the doctor and the first mate and Tim Rokens listened in some surprise. "Why, the fact is," said Glynn, "that I have just escaped from the hands of the police, and if it had not been that I was obliged to make a very wide detour, in order to reach this house without being observed, I should have been here long ago." "Boy, boy, your hasty disposition will bring you into serious trouble one of these days," said the captain, shaking his head. "What mischief have you been about?" "Ay, there you go--it's my usual fate," cried Glynn, laughing. "If I chance to get into a scrape, you never think of inquiring whether it was my fault or my misfortune. This time, however, it _was_ my misfortune, and if Miss Dunning will oblige me with a cup of tea, I'll explain how it happened. "Little more than two hours ago I left the ship to come here to tea, as I had promised to do. Nikel Sling, the long-legged cook you engaged this morning, went ashore with me. As we walked up the street together, I observed a big porter passing along with a heavy deal plank on his shoulder. The street was somewhat narrow and crowded at that part, and Sling had turned to look in at a shop-window just as the big fellow came up. The man shouted to my shipmate to get out o' the way, but the noise in the street prevented him from hearing. Before I could turn to touch the cook's arm, the fellow uttered an oath and ran the end of the plank against his head. Poor Sling was down in an instant. Before I well knew what I was about, I hit the porter between the eyes and down he went with a clatter, and the plank above him. In a moment three policemen had me by the collar. I tried to explain, but they wouldn't listen. As I was being hurried away to the lock-up, it flashed across me that I should not only lose my tea and your pleasant society this evening, but be prevented from sailing to-morrow, so I gave a sudden twist, tripped up the man on my left, overturned the one on my right, and bolted." "They ran well, the rascals, and shouted like maniacs, but I got the start of 'em, dived down one street, up another, into a by-lane, over a back-garden wall, in at the back-door of a house and out at the front, took a round of two or three miles, and came in here from the west; and whatever other objections there may be to the whole proceeding, I cannot say that it has spoiled my appetite." "And so, sir," said Captain Dunning, "you call this your `misfortune?'" "Surely, captain," said Glynn, putting down his cup and looking up in some surprise--"surely, you cannot blame me for punishing the rascal who behaved so brutally, without the slightest provocation, to my shipmate!" "Hear, hear!" cried Rokens involuntarily. "I do blame you, lad," replied the captain seriously. "In the first place, you had no right to take the law into your own hands. In the second place, your knocking down the man did no good whatever to your shipmate; and in the third place, you've got yourself and me and the ship into a very unsatisfactory scrape." Rokens' face, which had hitherto expressed approval of Glynn's conduct, began to elongate as the captain went on in this strain; and the youth's recklessness of manner altogether disappeared as inquired, "How so, captain? I have escaped, as you see; and poor Sling, of course, was not to blame, so he'll be all safe aboard, and well, I hope, by this time." "There you're mistaken, boy. They will have secured Sling and made him tell the name of his ship, and also the name of his pugnacious comrade." "And do you think he'd be so mean as to tell?" asked Glynn indignantly. "You forget that the _first_ act in this nice little melodrama was the knocking down of Sling, so that he could not know what happened after, and the police would not be so soft as to tell him _why_ they wanted such information until after they had got it." Poor Glynn looked aghast, and Rokens was overwhelmed. "It seems to me, I'd better go and see about this," said Millons, rising and buttoning his coat with the air of a man who had business to transact and meant to transact it. "Right, Millons," answered the captain. "I'm sorry to break up our evening so soon, but we must get this man aboard by hook or crook as speedily as possible. You had better go too, doctor. Rokens and I will take care of this young scamp, who must be made a nigger of in order to be got on board, for his face, once seen by these sharp limbs of justice, is not likely soon to be forgotten." Glynn Proctor was indeed a youth whose personal appearance was calculated to make a lasting impression on most people. He was about eighteen years of age, but a strong, well-developed muscular frame, a firm mouth, a large chin, and an eagle eye, gave him the appearance of being much older. He was above the middle height, but not tall, and the great breadth of his shoulders and depth of his chest made him appear shorter than he really was. His hair was of that beautiful hue called nut-brown, and curled close round his well-shaped head. He was a model of strength and activity. Glynn Proctor had many faults. He was hasty and reckless. He was unsteady, too, and preferred a roving idle life to a busy one; but he had redeeming qualities. He was bold and generous. Above all, he was unselfish, and therefore speedily became a favourite with all who knew him. Glynn's history is briefly told. He was an Englishman. His father and mother had died when he was a child, and left him in charge of an uncle, who emigrated to America shortly after his brother's death. The uncle was a good man, after a fashion, but he was austere and unlovable. Glynn didn't like him; so when he attained the age of thirteen, he quietly told him that he meant to bid him good-bye, and go seek his fortune in the world. The uncle as quietly told Glynn that he was quite right, and the sooner he went the better. So Glynn went, and never saw his uncle again, for the old man died while he was abroad. Glynn travelled far and encountered many vicissitudes of fortune in his early wanderings; but he was never long without occupation, because men liked his looks, and took him on trial without much persuasion. To say truth, Glynn never took the trouble to persuade them. When his services were declined, he was wont to turn on his heel and walk away without a word of reply; and not unfrequently he was called back and employed. He could turn his hand to almost anything, but when he tired of it, he threw it up and sought other work elsewhere. In the course of his peregrinations, he came to reside in the city in which our story finds him. Here he had become a compositor in the office of a daily newspaper, and, happening to be introduced to the Misses Dunning, soon became a favourite with them, and a constant visitor at their house. Thus he became acquainted with their brother. Becoming disgusted with the constant work and late hours of the printing-office, he resolved to join Captain Dunning's ship, and take a voyage to southern seas as an ordinary seaman. Glynn and little Alice Dunning were great friends, and it was a matter of extreme delight to both of them that they were to sail together on this their first voyage. Having been made a nigger of--that is, having had his face and hands blackened in order to avoid detection--Glynn sallied forth with the captain and Rokens to return to their ship, the _Red Eric_, which lay in the harbour, not ten minutes' walk from the house. They passed the police on the wharf without creating suspicion, and reached the vessel. CHAPTER FOUR. THE ESCAPE. "Well, Millons, what news?" inquired the captain, as he stepped on deck. "Bad news, sir, I fear" replied the first mate. "I found, on coming aboard, that no one knew anything about Sling, so I went ashore at once and 'urried up to the hospital, w'ere, sure enough, I found 'im lyin' with his 'ead bandaged, and lookin' as if 'e were about gone. They asked me if I knew what ship 'e belonged to, as the police wanted to know. So I told 'em I knew well enough, but I wasn't going to tell if it would get the poor fellow into a scrape. "`Why don't you ask himself?' says I. "They told me 'e was past speaking, so I tried to make 'im understand, but 'e only mumbled in reply. W'en I was about to go 'e seemed to mumble very 'ard, so I put down my ear to listen, and 'e w'ispered quite distinct tho' very low--`All right, my 'eartie. I'm too cute for 'em by a long way; go aboard an' say nothin'.' So I came away, and I've scarce been five minutes aboard before you arrived. My own opinion is, that 'e's crazed, and don't know what 'e's sayin'." "Oh!" ejaculated Captain Dunning. "He said that, did he? Then _my_ opinion is, that he's not so crazed as you think. Tell the watch, Mr Millons, to keep a sharp look-out." So saying, Captain Dunning descended to the cabin, and Rokens to the forecastle (in sea phraseology the "fok-sail"), while Glynn Proctor procured a basin and a piece of soap, and proceeded to rub the coat of charcoal off his face and hands. Half-an-hour had not elapsed when the watch on deck heard a loud splash near the wharf, as if some one had fallen into the water. Immediately after, a confused sound of voices and rapid footsteps was heard in the street that opened out upon the quay, and in a few seconds the end of the wharf was crowded with men who shouted to each other, and were seen in the dim starlight to move rapidly about as if in search of something. "Wot can it be?" said Tim Rokens in a low voice, to a seaman who leaned on the ship's bulwarks close to him. "Deserter, mayhap," suggested the man. While Rokens pondered the suggestion, a light plash was heard close to the ship's side, and a voice said, in a hoarse whisper, "Heave us a rope, will ye. Look alive, now. Guess I'll go under in two minits if ye don't." "Oho!" exclaimed Rokens, in a low, impressive voice, as he threw over the end of a rope, and, with the aid of the other members of the watch, hauled Nikel Sling up the side, and landed him dripping and panting on the deck. "W'y--Sling! what on airth--?" exclaimed one of the men. "It's lucky--I am--on airth--" panted the tall cook, seating himself on the breech of one of the main-deck carronades, and wringing the water from his garments. "An' it's well I'm not at the bottom o' this 'ere 'arbour." "But where did ye come from, an' why are they arter ye, lad?" inquired Rokens. "W'y? 'cause they don't want to part with me, and I've gi'n them the slip, I guess." When Nikel Sling had recovered himself so as to talk connectedly, he explained to his wondering shipmates how that, after being floored in the street, he had been carried up to the hospital, and on recovering his senses, found Mr Millons standing by the bedside, conversing with the young surgeons. The first words of their conversation showed him that something was wrong, so, with remarkable self-possession, he resolved to counterfeit partial delirium, by which means he contrived to give the first mate a hint that all was right, and declined, without creating suspicion, to give any intelligible answers as to who he was or where he had come from. The blow on his head caused him considerable pain, but his mind was relieved by one of the young surgeons, who remarked to another, in going round the wards, that the "skull of that long chap wasn't fractured after all, and he had no doubt he would be dismissed cured in a day or two." So the cook lay quiet until it was dark. When the house-surgeon had paid his last visit, and the nurses had gone their rounds in the accident-ward, and no sound disturbed the quiet of the dimly-lighted apartment save the heavy fitful breathing and occasional moans and restless motions of the sufferers, Nikel Sling raised himself on his elbow, and glanced stealthily round on the rows of pain-worn and haggard countenances around him. It was a solemn sight to look upon, especially at that silent hour of the night. There were men there with almost every species of painful wound and fracture. Some had been long there, wasting away from day to day, and now lay quiet, though suffering, from sheer exhaustion. Others there were who had been carried in that day, and fidgeted impatiently in their unreduced strength, yet nervously in their agony; or, in some cases, where the fear of death was on them, clasped their hands and prayed in whispers for mercy to Him whose name perhaps they had almost never used before except for the purpose of taking it in vain. But such sights had little or no effect on the cook, who had rubbed hard against the world's roughest sides too long to be easily affected by the sight of human suffering, especially when exhibited in men. He paused long enough to note that the nurses were out of the way or dozing, and then slipping out of bed, he stalked across the room like a ghost, and made for the outer gateway of the hospital. He knew the way, having once before been a temporary inmate of the place. He reached the gate undiscovered, tripped up the porter's heels, opened the wicket, and fled towards the harbour, followed by the porter and a knot of chance passers-by. The pursuers swelled into a crowd as he neared the harbour. Besides being long-limbed, Nikel Sling was nimble. He distanced his pursuers easily, and, as we have seen, swam off and reached his ship almost as soon as they gained the end of the wharf. The above narration was made much more abruptly and shortly than we have presented it, for oars were soon heard in the water, and it behoved the poor hunted cook to secrete himself in case they should take a fancy to search the vessel. Just as the boat came within a few yards of the ship he hastily went below. "Boat ahoy!" shouted Tim Rokens; "wot boat's that?" The men lay on their oars. "Have you a madman on board your ship?" inquired the gatekeeper of the hospital, whose wrath at the unceremonious treatment he had received had not yet cooled down. "No," answered Rokens, laying his arms on the bulwarks, and looking down at his questioner with a sly leer; "no, we ha'n't, but you've got a madman aboord that boat." "Who's that?" inquired the warder, who did not at first understand the sarcasm. "Why, yourself, to be sure," replied Rokens, "an' the sooner you takes yourself off, an' comes to an anchor in a loo-natick asylum, the better for all parties consarned." "No, but I'm in earnest, my man--" "_As_ far as that goes," interrupted the imperturbable Rokens, "so am I." "The man," continued the gatekeeper, "has run out of the hospital with a smashed head, I calc'late, stark starin' mad, and gone off the end o' the w'arf into the water--" "You don't mean it!" shouted Rokens, starting with affected surprise. "Now you _are_ a fine fellow, ain't you, to be talkin' here an' wastin' time while a poor feller-mortal is bein' drownded, or has gone and swummed off to sea--p'r'aps without chart, compass, or rudder! Hallo, lads! tumble up there! Man overboard! tumble up, tumble up!" In less than three minutes half-a-dozen men sprang up the hatchway, hauled up the gig which swung astern, tumbled into it, and began to pull wildly about the harbour in search of the drowning man. The shouts and commotion roused the crews of the nearest vessels, and ere long quite a fleet of boats joined in the search. "Wos he a big or a little feller?" inquired Rokens, panting from his exertions, as he swept up to the boat containing the hospital warder, round which several of the other boats began to congregate. "A big fellow, I guess, with legs like steeples. He was sloping when they floored him. A thief, I expect he must ha' bin." "A thief!" echoed Rokens, in disgust; "why didn't ye say, so at first? If he's a thief, he's born to be hanged, so he's safe and snug aboard his ship long ago, I'll be bound. Good-night t'ye, friend, and better luck next time." A loud laugh greeted the ears of the discomfited warder as the crews of the boats dipped their oars in the water and pulled towards, their respective ships. Next morning, about daybreak, little Alice Dunning came on board her father's ship, accompanied by her two aunts, who, for once, became utterly and publicly regardless of appearances and contemptuous of all propriety, as they sobbed on the child's neck and positively refused to be comforted. Just as the sun rose, and edged the horizon with a gleam of liquid fire, the _Red Eric_ spread her sails and stood out to sea. CHAPTER FIVE. DAY DREAMS AND ADVENTURES AMONG THE CLOUDS--A CHASE, A BATTLE, AND A VICTORY. Early morning on the ocean! There is poetry in the idea; there is music in the very sound. As there is nothing new under the sun, probably a song exists with this or a similar title; if not, we now recommend it earnestly to musicians. Ailie Dunning sat on the bulwarks of the _Red Eric_, holding on tightly by the mizzen-shrouds, and gazing in open-eyed, open-mouthed, inexpressible delight upon the bright calm sea. She was far, far out upon the bosom of the Atlantic now. Sea-sickness--which during the first part of the voyage, had changed the warm pink of her pretty face into every imaginable shade of green--was gone, and the hue of health could not now be banished even by the rudest storm. In short, she had become a thorough sailor, and took special delight in turning her face to windward during the wild storm, and drinking-in the howling blast as she held on by the rigid shrouds, and laughed at the dashing spray--for little Ailie was not easily frightened. Martha and Jane Dunning had made it their first care to implant in the heart of their charge a knowledge of our Saviour's love, and especially of His tenderness towards, and watchful care over, the lambs of His flock. Besides this, little Ailie was naturally of a trustful disposition. She had implicit confidence in the strength and wisdom of her father, and it never entered into her imagination to dream that it was possible for any evil to befall the ship which _he_ commanded. But, although Ailie delighted in the storm, she infinitely preferred the tranquil beauty and rest of a "great calm," especially at the hour just before sunrise, when the freshness, brightness, and lightness of the young day harmonised peculiarly with her elastic spirit. It was at this hour that we find her alone upon the bulwarks of the _Red Eric_. There was a deep, solemn stillness around, that irresistibly and powerfully conveyed to her mind the idea of rest. The long, gentle undulation of the deep did not in the least detract from this idea. So perfect was the calm, that several masses of clouds in the sky, which shone with the richest saffron light, were mirrored in all their rich details as if in a glass. The faintest possible idea of a line alone indicated, in one direction, where the water terminated and the sky began. A warm golden haze suffused the whole atmosphere, and softened the intensity of the deep-blue vault above. There was, indeed, little variety of object to gaze upon--only the water and the sky. But what a world of delight did not Ailie find in that vast sky and that pure ocean, that reminded her of the sea of glass before the great white throne, of which she had so often read in Revelation. The towering masses of clouds were so rich and thick, that she almost fancied them to be mountains and valleys, rocks and plains of golden snow. Nay, she looked so long and so ardently at the rolling mountain heights in the sky above, and their magical counterparts in the sky below, that she soon, as it were, _thought herself into_ Fairyland, and began a regular journey of adventures therein. Such a scene at such an hour is a source of gladsome, peaceful delight to the breast of man in every stage of life; but it is a source of unalloyed, bounding, exhilarating, romantic, unspeakable joy only in the years of childhood, when the mind looks hopefully forward, and before it has begun--as, alas! it must begin, sooner or later--to gaze regretfully back. How long Ailie would have sat in motionless delight it is difficult to say. The man at the wheel having nothing to do, had forsaken his post, and was leaning over the stern, either lost in reverie, or in a vain effort to penetrate with his vision the blue abyss to the bottom. The members of the watch on deck were either similarly engaged or had stowed themselves away to sleep in quiet corners among blocks and cordage. No one seemed inclined to move or speak, and she would probably have sat there immovable for hours to come, had not a hand fallen gently on her shoulder, and by the magic of its simple contact scattered the bright dreams of Fairyland as the finger-touch destroys the splendour of the soap-bubble. "Oh! Glynn," exclaimed Ailie, looking round and heaving a deep sigh; "I've been away--far, far away--you can't believe how far." "Away, Ailie! Where have you been?" asked Glynn, patting the child's head as he leaned over the gunwale beside her. "In Fairyland. Up in the clouds yonder. Out and in, and up and down. Oh, you've no idea. Just look." She pointed eagerly to an immense towering cloud that rose like a conspicuous landmark in the centre of the landscape of the airy world above. "Do you see that mountain?" "Yes, Ailie; the one in the middle, you mean, don't you? Yes, well?" "Well," continued the child, eagerly and hurriedly, as if she feared to lose the thread of memory that formed the warp and woof of the delicate fabric she had been engaged in weaving; "well, I began there; I went in behind it, and I met a fairy--not really, you know, but I tried to think I met one, so I began to speak to her, and then I made her speak to me, and her voice was so small and soft and sweet. She had on silver wings, and a star--a bright star in her forehead--and she carried a wand with a star on the top of it too. So I asked her to take me to see her kingdom, and I made her say she would--and, do you know, Glynn, I really felt at last as if she didn't wait for me to tell her what to say, but just went straight on, answering my questions, and putting questions to me in return. Wasn't it funny? "Well, we went on, and on, and on--the fairy and me--up one beautiful mountain of snow and down another, talking all the time so pleasantly, until we came to a great dark cave; so I made up my mind to make a lion come out of it; but the fairy said, `No, let it be a bear;' and immediately a great bear came out. Wasn't it strange? It really seemed as if the fairy had become real, and could do things of her own accord." The child paused at this point, and looking with an expression of awe into her companion's face, said--"Do you think, Glynn, that people can _think_ so hard that fairies _really_ come to them?" Glynn looked perplexed. "No, Ailie, I suspect they can't--not because we can't think hard enough, but because there are no fairies to come." "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry!" replied the child sadly. "Why?" inquired Glynn. "Because I love them _so_ much--of course, I mean the good ones. I don't like the bad ones--though they're very useful, because they're nice to kill, and punish, and make examples of, and all that, when the good ones catch them." "So they are," said the youth, smiling. "I never thought of that before. But go on with your ramble in the clouds." "Well," began Ailie; "but where was I?" "Just going to be introduced to a bear." "Oh yes; well--the bear walked slowly away, and then the fairy called out an elephant, and after that a 'noceros--" "A 'noceros!" interrupted Glynn; "what's that?" "Oh, you know very well. A beast with a thick skin hanging in folds, and a horn on its nose--" "Ah, a _rhi_noceros--I see. Well, go on, Ailie." "Then the fairy told a camel to appear, and after that a monkey, and then a hippopotamus, and they all came out one after another, and some of them went away, and others began to fight. But the strangest thing of all was, that every one of them was _so_ like the pictures of wild beasts that are hanging in my room at home! The elephant, too, I noticed, had his trunk broken exactly the same way as my toy elephant's one was. Wasn't it odd?" "It was rather odd," replied Glynn; "but where did you go after that?" "Oh, then we went on, and on again, until we came to--" "It's your turn at the wheel, lad, ain't it?" inquired Mr Millons, coming up at that moment, and putting an abrupt termination to the walk in Fairyland. "It is, sir," answered Glynn, springing quickly to the wheel, and relieving the man who had been engaged in penetrating the ocean's depths. The mate walked forward; the released sailor went below, and Ailie was again left to her solitary meditations;--for she was enough of a sailor now, in heart, to know that she ought not to talk too much to the steersman, even though the weather should be calm and there was no call for his undivided attention to the duties of his post. While Nature was thus, as it were, asleep, and the watch on deck were more than half in the same condition, there was one individual in the ship whose faculties were in active play, whose "steam," as he himself would have remarked, "was up." This was the worthy cook, Nikel Sling, whose duties called him to his post at the galley-fire at an early hour each day. We have often thought that a cook's life must be one of constant self-denial and exasperation of spirit. Besides the innumerable anxieties in reference to such important matters as boiling over and over-boiling, being done to a turn, or over-done, or singed or burned, or capsized, he has the diurnal misery of being the first human being in his little circle of life, to turn out of a morning, and must therefore experience the discomfort--the peculiar discomfort--of finding things as _they were left_ the night before. Any one who does not know what that discomfort is, has only to rise an hour before the servants of a household, whether at sea or on shore, to find out. Cook, too, has generally, if not always, to light the fire; and that, especially in frosty weather, is not agreeable. Moreover, cook roasts _himself_ to such an extent, and at meal-times, in nine cases out of ten, gets into such physical and mental perturbation, that he cannot possibly appreciate the luxuries he has been occupied all the day in concocting. Add to this, that he spends all the morning in preparing breakfast; all the forenoon in preparing dinner; all the afternoon in preparing tea and supper, and all the evening in clearing up, and perhaps all the night in dreaming of the meals of the following day, and mentally preparing breakfast, and we think that we have clearly proved the truth of the proposition with which we started--namely, that a cook's life must be one of constant self-denial and exasperation of spirit. But this is by the way, and was merely suggested by the fact that, while all other creatures were enjoying either partial or complete repose, Nikel Sling was washing out pots and pans and kettles, and handling murderous-looking knives and two-pronged tormentors with a demoniacal activity that was quite appalling. Beside him, on a little stool close to the galley-fire, sat Tim Rokens-- not that Mr Rokens was cold--far from it. He was, to judge from appearances, much hotter than was agreeable. But Tim had come there and sat down to light his pipe, and being rather phlegmatic when not actively employed, he preferred to be partially roasted for a few minutes to getting up again. "We ought," remarked Tim Rokens, puffing at a little black pipe which seemed inclined to be obstinate, "we ought to be gittin' among the fish by this time. Many's the one I've seed in them 'ere seas." "I rather guess we should," replied the cook, pausing the midst of his toils and wiping the perspiration from his forehead with an immense bundle of greasy oakum. "But I've seed us keep dodgin' about for weeks, I have, later in the year than this, without clappin' eyes on a fin. What sort o' baccy d'ye smoke, Rokens?" "Dun know. Got it from a Spanish smuggler for an old clasp-knife. Why?" "Cause it smells like rotten straw, an' won't improve the victuals. Guess you'd better take yourself off, old chap." "Wot a cross-grained crittur ye are," said Rokens, as he rose to depart. At that moment there was heard a cry that sent the blood tingling to the extremities of every one on board the _Red Eric_. "Thar she blows! thar she blows!" shouted the man in the crow's-nest. The crow's-nest is a sort of cask, or nest, fixed at the top of the mainmast of whale-ships, in which a man is stationed all day during the time the ships are on the fishing-ground, to look out for whales; and the cry, "Thar she blows," announced the fact that the look-out had observed a whale rise to the surface and blow a spout of steamy water into the air. No conceivable event--unless perhaps the blowing-up of the ship itself-- could have more effectually and instantaneously dissipated the deep tranquillity to which we have more than once referred. Had an electric shock been communicated through the ship to each individual, the crew could not have been made to leap more vigorously and simultaneously. Many days before, they had begun to expect to see whales. Every one was therefore on the _qui vive_, so that when the well-known signal rang out like a startling peal in the midst of the universal stillness, every heart in the ship leaped in unison. Had an observant man been seated at the time in the forecastle, he would have noticed that from out of the ten or fifteen hammocks that swung from the beams, there suddenly darted ten or fifteen pairs of legs which rose to the perpendicular position in order to obtain leverage to "fetch way." Instantly thereafter the said legs descended, and where the feet had been, ten or fifteen heads appeared. Next moment the men were "tumbling up" the fore-hatch to the deck, where the watch had already sprung to the boat-tackles. "Where away?" sang out Captain Dunning who was among the first on deck. "Off the weather bow, sir, three points." "How far?" "About two miles. Thar she blows!" "Call all hands," shouted the captain. "Starboard watch, ahoy!" roared the mate, in that curious hoarse voice peculiar to boatswains of men-of-war. "Tumble up, lads, tumble up! Whale in sight! Bear a hand, my hearties!" The summons was almost unnecessary. The "starboard watch" was--with the exception of one or two uncommonly heavy sleepers--already on deck pulling on its ducks and buckling its belts. "Thar she breaches, thar she blows!" again came from the crow's-nest in the voice of a Stentor. "Well done, Dick Barnes, you're the first to raise the oil," remarked one of the men, implying by the remark that the said Dick was fortunate enough to be the first to sight a whale. "Where away now?" roared the captain, who was in a state of intense excitement. "A mile an' a half to leeward, sir." "Clear away the boats," shouted the captain. "Masthead, ahoy! D'ye see that whale now?" "Ay, ay, sir. Thar she blows!" "Bear a hand, my hearties," cried the captain, as the men sprang to the boats which were swinging at the davits. "Get your tubs in! Clear your falls! Look alive, lads! Stand-by to lower! All ready?" "All ready, sir." "Thar she blows!" came again from the masthead with redoubled energy. "Sperm-whales, sir; there's a school of 'em." "A _school_ of them!" whispered Ailie, who had left her post at the mizzen-shrouds, and now stood by her father's side, looking on at the sudden hubbub in unspeakable amazement. "Do whales go to school?" she said, laughing. "Out of the road, Ailie, my pet," cried her father hastily. "You'll get knocked over. Lower away, lads, lower away!" Down went the starboard, larboard, and waist-boats as if the falls had been cut, and almost before you could wink the men literally tumbled over the side into them, took their places, and seized their oars. "Here, Glynn, come with me, and I'll show you a thing or two," said the captain. "Jump in, lad; look sharp." Glynn instantly followed his commander into the starboard boat, and took the aft oar. Tim Rokens, being the harpooner of that boat, sat at the bow oar with his harpoons and lances beside him, and the whale-line coiled in a tub in the boat's head. The captain steered. And now commenced a race that taxed the boats' crews to the utmost; for it is always a matter keenly contested by the different crews, who shall fix the first harpoon in the whale. The larboard boat was steered by Mr Millons, the first mate; the waist-boat by Mr Markham, the second mate--the latter an active man of about five-and-twenty, whose size and physical strength were herculean, and whose disposition was somewhat morose and gloomy. "Now, lads, give way! That's it! that's the way. Bend your backs, now! _do_ bend your backs," cried the captain, as the three boats sprang from the ship's side and made towards the nearest whale, with the white foam curling at their bow. Several more whales appeared in sight spouting in all directions, and the men were wild with excitement. "That's it! Go it lads!" shouted Mr Millons, as the waist-boat began to creep ahead. "Lay it on! give way! What d'ye say, boys; shall we beat 'em?" Captain Dunning stood in the stern-sheets of the starboard boat, almost dancing with excitement as he heard these words of encouragement. "Give way, boys!" he cried. "They can't do it! That whale's ours--so it is. Only bend your backs! A steady pull! Pull like steam-tugs! That's it! Bend the oars! Double 'em up! Smash 'em in bits, _do_!" Without quite going the length of the captain's last piece of advice, the men did their work nobly. They bent their strong backs with a will, and strained their sinewy arms to the utmost. Glynn, in particular, to whom the work was new, and therefore peculiarly exciting and interesting, almost tore the rowlocks out of the boat in his efforts to urge it on, and had the oar not been made of the toughest ash, there is no doubt that he would have obeyed the captain's orders literally and have smashed it in bits. On they flew like racehorses. Now one boat gained an inch on the others, then it lost ground again as the crew of another put forth additional energy, and the three danced over the glassy sea as if the inanimate planks had been suddenly endued with life, and inspired with the spirit that stirred the men. A large sperm-whale lay about a quarter of a mile ahead, rolling lazily in the trough of the sea. Towards this the starboard boat now pulled with incredible speed, leaving the other two gradually astern. A number of whales rose in various directions. They had got into the midst of a shoal, or school of them, as the whale-men term it; and as several of these were nearer the other boats than the first whale was, they diverged towards them. "There go flukes," cried Rokens, as the whale raised its huge tail in the air and "sounded"--in other words, dived. For a few minutes the men lay on their oars, uncertain in what direction the whale would come up again; but their doubts were speedily removed by its rising within a few yards of the boat. "Now, Rokens," cried the captain; "now for it; give him the iron. Give way, lads; spring, boys. Softly now, softly." In another instant the boat's bow was on the whale's head, and Rokens buried a harpoon deep in its side. "Stern all!" thundered the captain. The men obeyed, and the boat was backed off the whale just in time to escape the blow of its tremendous flukes as it dived into the sea, the blue depths of which were instantly dyed red with the blood that flowed in torrents from the wound. Down it went, carrying out the line at a rate that caused the chocks through which it passed to smoke. In a few minutes the line ceased to run out, and the whale returned to the surface. It had scarcely showed its nose, when the slack of the line was hauled in, and a second harpoon was fixed in its body. Infuriated with pain, the mighty fish gave vent to a roar like a bull, rolled half over, and lashed the sea with his flukes, till, all round for many yards, it was churned into red slimy foam. Then he turned round, and dashed off with the speed of a locomotive engine, tearing the boat through the waves behind it, the water curling up like a white wall round the bows. "She won't stand that long," muttered Glynn Proctor, as he rested on his oar, and looked over his shoulder at the straining line. "That she will, boy," said the captain; "and more than that, if need be. You'll not be long of havin' a chance of greasin' your fingers, I'll warrant." In a few minutes the speed began to slacken, and after a time they were able to haul in on the line. When the whale again came to the surface, a third harpoon was cleverly struck into it, and a spout of blood from its blow-hole showed that it was mortally wounded. In throwing the harpoon, Tim Rokens slipped his foot, and went down like a stone head-foremost into the sea. He came up again like a cork, and just as the boat flew past fortunately caught hold of Glynn Proctor's hand. It was well that the grasp was a firm one, for the strain on their two arms was awful. In another minute Tim was in his place, ready with his lance to finish off the whale at its next rise. Up it came again, foaming, breaching, and plunging from wave to wave, flinging torrents of blood and spray into the air. At one moment he reared his blunt gigantic head high above the sea; the next he buried his vast and quivering carcase deep in the gory brine, carrying down with him a perfect whirlpool of red foam. Then he rose again and made straight for the boat. Had he known his own power, he might have soon terminated the battle, and come off the victor, but fortunately he did not. Tim Rokens received his blunt nose on the point of his lance, and drove him back with mingled fury and terror. Another advance was made, and a successful lance-thrust delivered. "That's into his life," cried the captain. "So it is," replied Rokens. And so it was. A vital part had been struck. For some minutes the huge leviathan lashed and rolled and tossed in the trembling waves in his agony, while he spouted up gallons of blood with every throe; then he rolled over on his back, and lay extended a lifeless mass upon the waters. "Now, lads; three cheers for our first whale. Hip! hip! hip!--" The cheer that followed was given with all the energy and gusto inspired by a first victory, and it was repeated again and again, and over again, before the men felt themselves sufficiently relieved to commence the somewhat severe and tedious labour of towing the carcase to the ship. It was a hard pull, for the whale had led them a long chase, and as the calm continued, those left aboard could not approach to meet the boats. The exhausted men were cheered, however, on getting aboard late that night, to find that the other boats had been equally successful, each of them having captured a sperm-whale. CHAPTER SIX. DISAGREEABLE CHANGES--SAGACIOUS CONVERSATIONS, AND A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT. A striking and by no means a pleasant change took place in the general appearance of the _Red Eric_ immediately after the successful chase detailed in the last chapter. Before the arrival of the whales the decks had been beautifully clean and white, for Captain Dunning was proud of his ship, and fond of cleanliness and order. A few hours after the said arrival the decks were smeared with grease, oil, and blood, and everything from stem to stern became from that day filthy and dirty. This was a sad change to poor Ailie, who had not imagined it possible that so sudden and disagreeable an alteration could take place. But there was no help for it; the duties of the fishery in which they were engaged required that the whales should not only be caught, but cut up, boiled down to oil, and stowed away in the hold in casks. If the scene was changed for the worse a few hours after the cutting-up operations were begun, it became infinitely more so when the _try-works_ were set going, and the melting-fires were lighted, and huge volumes of smoke begrimed the masts, and sails, and rigging. It was vain to think of clearing up; had they attempted that, the men would have been over-tasked without any good being accomplished. There was only one course open to those who didn't like it, and that was--to "grin and bear it." "Cutting out" and "trying in" are the terms used by whale-men to denote the processes of cutting off the flesh or "blubber" from the whale's carcase, and reducing it to oil. At an early hour on the following morning the first of these operations was commenced. Ailie went about the decks, looking on with mingled wonder, interest, and disgust. She stepped about gingerly, as if afraid of coming in contact with slimy objects, and with her nose and mouth screwed up after the fashion of those who are obliged to endure bad smells. The expression of her face under the circumstances was amusing. As for the men, they went about their work with relish, and total indifference as to consequences. When the largest whale had been hauled alongside, ropes were attached to his head and tail, and the former was secured near the stern of the ship, while the latter was lashed to the bow; the cutting-tackle was then attached. This consisted of an arrangement of pulleys depending from the main-top, with a large blubber-hook at the end thereof. The cutting was commenced at the neck, and the hook attached; then the men hove on the windlass, and while the cutting was continued in a spiral direction round the whale's body, the tackle raised the mass of flesh until it reached the fixed blocks above. This mass, when it could be hauled up no higher, was then cut off, and stowed away under the name of a "blanket-piece." It weighed upwards of a ton. The hook being lowered and again attached, the process was continued until the whole was cut off. Afterwards, the head was severed from the body and hoisted on board, in order that the oil contained in the hollow of it might be baled out. From the head of the first whale ten barrels of oil were obtained. The blubber yielded about eighty barrels. When the "cutting out" was completed, and the remnants of bone and flesh were left to the sharks which swarmed round the vessel, revelling in their unusually rich banquet, the process of "trying in" commenced. "Trying in" is the term applied to the melting of the fat and the stowing of it away in barrels in the form of oil; and an uncommonly dirty process it is. The large "blanket-pieces" were cut into smaller portions, and put into the try-pots, which were kept in constant operation. At night the ship had all the appearance of a vessel on fire, and the scene on deck was particularly striking and unearthly. One night several of the men were grouped on and around the windlass, chatting, singing, and "spinning yarns." Ailie Dunning stood near them, lost in wonder and admiration; for the ears and eyes of the child were assailed in a manner never before experienced or dreamed of even in the most romantic mood of cloud-wandering. It was a very dark night, darker than usual, and not a breath of wind ruffled the sea, which was like a sheet of undulating glass--for, be it remembered, there is no such thing at any time as absolute stillness in the ocean. At all times, even in the profoundest calm, the long, slow, gentle swell rises and sinks with unceasing regularity, like the bosom of a man in deep slumber. Dense clouds of black smoke and occasional lurid sheets of flame rose from the try-works, which were situated between the foremast and the main-hatch. The tops of the masts were lost in the curling smoke, and the black waves of the sea gleamed and flashed in the red light all round the ship. One man stood in front of the melting-pot, pitching in pieces of blubber with a two-pronged pitchfork. Two comrades stood by the pots, stirring up their contents, and throwing their figures into wild uncouth attitudes, while the fire glared in their greasy faces, and converted the front of their entire persons into deep vermilion. The oil was hissing in the try-pots; the rough weather-beaten faces of the men on the windlass were smeared, and their dirty-white ducks saturated, with oil. The decks were blood-stained; huge masses of flesh and blubber lay scattered about; sparks flew upwards in splendid showers as the men raked up the fires; the decks, bulwarks, railings, try-works, and windlass were covered with oil and slime, and glistening in the red glare. It was a terrible, murderous-looking scene, and filled Ailie's mind with mingled feelings of wonder, disgust, and awe, as she leaned on a comparatively clean spot near the foremast, listening to the men and gazing at the rolling smoke and flames. "Ain't it beautiful?" said a short, fat little seaman named Gurney, who sat swinging his legs on the end of the windlass, and pointed, as he spoke, with the head of his pipe to a more than usually brilliant burst of sparks and flame that issued that moment from the works. "Beautiful!" exclaimed a long-limbed, shambling fellow named Jim Scroggles, "why, that ain't the word at all. Now, I calls it splendiferous." Scroggles looked round at his comrades, as if to appeal to their judgment as to the fitness of the word, but not receiving any encouragement, he thrust down the glowing tobacco in his pipe with the end of his little finger, and reiterated the word "splendiferous" with marked emphasis. "Did ye ever see that word in Johnson?" inquired Gurney. "Who's Johnson?" said Scroggles, contemptuously. "Wot, don't ye know who Johnson is?" cried Gurney, in surprise. "In course I don't; how should I?" retorted Scroggles. "There's ever so many Johnsons in the world; which on 'em all do you mean?" "Why, I mean Johnson wot wrote the diksh'nary--the great lexikragofer." "Oh, it's _him_ you mean, is it? In course I've knowed him ever since I wos at school." A general laugh interrupted the speaker. "At school!" cried Nickel Sling, who approached the group at that moment with a carving knife in his hand--he seldom went anywhere without an instrument of office in his hand--"At school! Wal now, that beats creation. If ye wos, I'm sartin ye only larned to forgit all ye orter to have remembered. I'd take a bet now, ye wosn't at school as long as I've been settin' on this here windlass." "Yer about right, Sling, it 'ud be unpossible for me to be as _long_ as you anywhere, 'cause everybody knows I'm only five fut two, whereas you're six fut four!" "Hear, hear!" shouted Dick Barnes--a man with a huge black beard, who the reader may perhaps remember was the first to "raise the oil." "It'll be long before you make another joke like that, Gurney. Come, now, give us a song, Gurney, do; there's the cap'n's darter standin' by the foremast, a-waitin' to hear ye. Give us `Long, long ago.'" "Ah! that's it, give us a song," cried the men. "Come, there's a good fellow." "Well, it's so long ago since I sung that song, shipmates," replied Gurney, "that I've bin and forgot it; but Tim Rokens knows it; where's Rokens?" "He's in the watch below." In sea parlance, the men whose turn it is to take rest after their long watch on deck are somewhat facetiously said to belong to the "watch below." "Ah! that's a pity; so we can't have that 'ere partickler song. But I'll give ye another, if ye don't object." "No, no. All right; go ahead, Gurney! Is there a chorus to it?" "Ay, in course there is. Wot's a song without a chorus? Wot's plum-duff without the plums? Wot's a ship without a 'elm? It's my opinion, shipmates, that a song without a chorus is no better than it should be. It's wus nor nothin'. It puts them wot listens in the blues an' the man wot sings into the stews--an' sarve him right. I wouldn't, no, I wouldn't give the fag-end o' nothin' mixed in bucket o' salt water for a song without a chorus--that's flat; so here goes." Having delivered himself of these opinions in an extremely vigorous manner, and announced the fact that he was about to begin, Gurney cleared his throat and drew a number of violent puffs from his pipe in quick succession, in order to kindle that instrument into a glow which would last through the first verse and the commencement of the chorus. This he knew was sufficient, for the men, when once fairly started on the chorus, would infallibly go on to the end with or without his assistance, and would therefore afford him time for a few restorative whiffs. "It hain't got no name, lads." "Never mind, Gurney--all right--fire away." "Oh, I once know'd a man as hadn't got a nose, An' this is how he come to hadn't-- One cold winter night he went and got it froze-- By the pain he was well-nigh madden'd. (_Chorus_.) Well-nigh madden'd, By the pain he was well-nigh madden'd. "Next day it swoll up as big as my head, An' it turn'd like a piece of putty; It kivered up his mouth, oh, yes, so it did, So he could not smoke his cutty. (_Chorus_.) Smoke his cutty, So he could not smoke his cutty. "Next day it grew black, and the next day blue, An' tough as a junk of leather; (Oh! he yelled, so he did, fit to pierce ye through)-- An' then it fell off altogether! (_Chorus_.) Fell off altogether, An' then it fell off altogether! "But the morial is wot you've now got to hear, An' it's good--as sure as a gun; An' you'll never forget it, my messmates dear, For this song it hain't got none! (_Chorus_.) Hain't got none, For this song it hain't got none!" The applause that followed this song was most enthusiastic, and evidently gratifying to Gurney, who assumed a modest deprecatory air as he proceeded to light his pipe, which had been allowed to go out at the third verse, the performer having become so engrossed in his subject as to have forgotten the interlude of puffs at that point. "Well sung, Gurney. Who made it?" inquired Phil Briant, an Irishman, who, besides being a jack-of-all-trades and an able-bodied seaman, was at that time acting-assistant to the cook and steward, the latter--a half Spaniard and half negro, of Californian extraction--being unwell. "I'm bound not to tell," replied Gurney, with a conscious air. "Ah, then, yer right, my boy, for it's below the average entirely." "Come, Phil, none o' yer chaff," cried Dick Barnes, "that song desarves somethin' arter it. Suppose now, Phil, that you wos to go below and fetch the bread-kid." "Couldn't do it," replied Phil, looking solemn, "on no account wotiver." "Oh, nonsense, why not?" "'Cause its unpossible. Why, if I did, sure that surly compound o' all sorts o' human blood would pitch into me with the carvin'-knife." "Who? Tarquin?" cried Dick Barnes, naming the steward. "Ay, sure enough that same--Tarquin's his name, an it's kuriously befittin' the haythen, for of all the cross-grained mixtures o' buffalo, bear, bandicoot, and crackadile I iver seed, he's out o' sight--" "Did I hear any one mention my name?" inquired the steward himself who came aft at that moment. He was a wild Spanish-like fellow, with a handsome-enough figure, and a swart countenance that might have been good-looking but for the thickish lips and nose and the bad temper that marked it. Since getting into the tropics, the sailors had modified their costumes considerably, and as each man had in some particular allowed himself a slight play of fancy, their appearance, when grouped together, was varied and picturesque. Most of them wore no shoes, and the caps of some were, to say the least, peculiar. Tarquin wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, with a conical crown, and a red silk sash tied round his waist. "Yes, Tarquin," replied Barnes, "we _wos_ engaged in makin' free-an'-easy remarks on you; and Phil Briant there gave us to understand that you wouldn't let us have the bread--kid up. Now, it's my opinion you ain't goin' to be so hard on us as that; you will let us have it up to comfort our hearts on this fine night, won't you?" The steward, whose green visage showed that he was too ill to enter into a dispute at that time, turned on his heel and walked aft, remarking that they might eat the bottom out o' the ship, for all he cared. "There now, you misbemannered Patlander, go and get it, or we'll throw you overboard," cried Scroggles, twisting his long limbs awkwardly as he shifted his position on the windlass. "Now, then, shipmates, don't go for to ax it," said Briant, remaining immovable. "Don't I know wot's best for ye? Let me spaake to ye now. Did any of ye iver study midsin?" "No!" cried several with a laugh. "Sure I thought not," continued Phil, with a patronising air, "or ye'd niver ask for the bread--kid out o' saisin. Now I was in the medical way meself wance--ay, ye may laugh, but it's thrue--I wos 'prentice to a 'pothecary, an' I've mixed up more midsins than would pisen the whole popilation of owld Ireland--barrin' the praists, av coorse. And didn't I hear the convarse o' all the doctors in the place? And wasn't the word always--`Be rigglar with yer mails--don't ait, avic, more nor three times a day, and not too much, now. Be sparin'.'" "Hah! ye long-winded grampus," interrupted Dick Barnes, impatiently. "An' warn't the doctors right? Three times a day for sick folk, and six times--or more--for them wot's well." "Hear, hear!" cried the others, while two of them seized Briant by the neck, and thrust him forcibly towards the after-hatch. "Bring up the kid, now; an' if ye come without it, look out for squalls." "Och! worse luck," sighed the misused assistant, as he disappeared. In a few minutes Phil returned with the kid, which was a species of tray filled with broken sea-biscuit, which, when afloat, goes by the name of "bread." This was eagerly seized, for the appetites of sailors are always sharp, except immediately after meals. A quantity of the broken biscuit was put into a strainer, and fried in whale-oil, and the men sat round the kid to enjoy their luxurious feast, and relate their adventures--all of which were more or less marvellous, and many of them undoubtedly true. The more one travels in this world of ours, and the more one reads of the adventures of travellers upon whose narratives we can place implicit confidence, the more we find that men do not now require, as they did of old, to draw upon their imaginations for marvellous tales of wild, romantic adventure, in days gone by, travellers were few; foreign lands were almost unknown. Not many books were written; and of the few that were, very few were believed. In the present day men of undoubted truthfulness have roamed far and wide over the whole world, their books are numbered by hundreds, and much that was related by ancient travellers, but not believed, has now been fully corroborated. More than that, it is now known that men have every where received, as true, statements which modern discovery has proved to be false, and on the other hand they have often refused to believe what is now ascertained to be literally true. We would suggest, in passing, that a lesson might be learned from this fact--namely, that we ought to receive a statement in regard to a foreign land, not according to the probability or the improbability of the statement itself, but according to the credibility of him who makes it. Ailie Dunning had a trustful disposition; she acted on neither of the above principles. She believed all she heard, poor thing, and therefore had a head pretty well stored with mingled fact and nonsense. While the men were engaged with their meal, Dr Hopley came on deck and found her leaning over the stern, looking down at the waves which shone with sparkling phosphorescent light. An almost imperceptible breeze had sprung up, and the way made by the vessel as she passed through the water was indicated by a stream of what appeared lambent blue flame. "Looking at the fish, Ailie, as usual?" said the doctor as he came up. "What are they saying to you to-night?" "I'm not looking at the fish," answered Ailie; "I'm looking at the fire--no, not the fire; papa said it wasn't fire, but it's so like it, I can scarcely call it anything else. What _is_ it, doctor?" "It is called phosphorescence," replied the doctor, leaning over the bulwarks, and looking down at the fiery serpent that seemed as if it clung to the ship's rudder. "But I dare say you don't know what that means. You know what fire-flies and glow-worms are?" "Oh! yes; I've often caught them." "Well, there are immense numbers of very small and very thin jelly-like creatures in the sea, so thin and so transparent that they can scarcely be observed in the water. These Medusae, as they are called, possess the power of emitting light similar to that of the fire-fly. In short, Ailie, they are the fire-flies and glow-worms of the ocean." The child listened with wonder, and for some minutes remained silent. Before she could again speak, there occurred one of those incidents which are generally spoken of as "most unexpected" and sudden, but which, nevertheless, are the result of natural causes, and might have been prevented by means of a little care. The wind, as we have said, was light, so light that it did not distend the sails; the boom of the spanker-sail hung over the stern, and the spanker-braces lay slack along the seat on which Ailie and the doctor knelt. A little gust of wind came: it was not strong--a mere puff; but the man at the wheel was not attending to his duty: the puff, light as it was, caused the spanker to jibe--that is to fly over from one side of the ship to the other--the heavy boom passed close over the steersman's head as he cried, "Look out!" The braces tautened, and in so doing they hurled Dr Hopley violently to the deck, and tossed Ailie Dunning over the bulwarks into the sea. It happened at that moment that Glynn Proctor chanced to step on deck. "Hallo! what's wrong?" cried the youth, springing forward, catching the doctor by the coat, as he was about to spring overboard, and pulling him violently back, under the impression that he was deranged. The doctor pointed to the sea, and, with a look of horror, gasped the word "Ailie." In an instant Glynn released his hold, plunged over the stern of the ship, and disappeared in the waves. CHAPTER SEVEN. THE RESCUE--PREPARATIONS FOR A STORM. It is impossible to convey by means of words an adequate idea of the terrible excitement and uproar that ensued on board the _Red Eric_ after the events narrated in the last chapter. From those on deck who witnessed the accident there arose a cry so sharp, that it brought the whole crew from below in an instant. But there was no confusion. The men were well trained. Each individual knew his post, and whale-men are accustomed to a sudden and hasty summons. The peculiarity of the present one, it is true, told every man in an instant that something was wrong, but each mechanically sprang to his post, while one or two shouted to ascertain what had happened, or to explain. But the moment Captain Dunning's voice was heard there was perfect silence. "Clear away the starboard-quarter-boat," he cried, in a deep, firm tone. "Ay, ay, sir." "Stand-by the falls--lower away!" There was no occasion to urge the sailors; they sprang to the work with the fervid celerity of men who knew that life or death depended on their speed. In less time than it takes to relate, the boat was leaping over the long ocean swell, as it had never yet done in chase of the whale, and, in a few seconds, passed out of the little circle of light caused by the fires and into the gloom that surrounded the ship. The wind had been gradually increasing during all these proceedings, and although no time had been lost, and the vessel had been immediately brought up into the wind, Ailie and Glynn were left struggling in the dark sea a long way behind ere the quarter-boat could be lowered; and now that it was fairly afloat, there was still the danger of its failing to hit the right direction of the objects of which it was in search. After leaping over the stern, Glynn Proctor, the moment he rose to the surface, gave a quick glance at the ship, to make sure of her exact position, and then struck out in a straight line astern, for he knew that wherever Ailie fell, there she would remain struggling until she sank. Glynn was a fast and powerful swimmer. He struck out with desperate energy, and in a few minutes the ship was out of sight behind him. Then he paused suddenly, and letting his feet sink until he attained an upright position, trod the water and raised himself breast-high above the surface, at the same time listening intently, for he began to fear that he might have overshot his mark. No sound met his straining ear save the sighing of the breeze and the ripple of the water as it lapped against his chest. It was too dark to see more than a few yards in any direction. Glynn knew that each moment lost rendered his chance of saving the child terribly slight. He shouted "Ailie!" in a loud, agonising cry, and swam forward again with redoubled energy, continuing the cry from time to time, and raising himself occasionally to look round him. The excitement of his mind, and the intensity with which it was bent on the one great object, rendered him at first almost unobservant of the flight of time. But suddenly the thought burst upon him that fully ten minutes or a quarter of an hour had elapsed since Ailie fell overboard, and that no one who could not swim could exist for half that time in deep water. He shrieked with agony at the thought, and, fancying that he must have passed the child, he turned round and swam desperately towards the point where he supposed the ship lay. Then he thought, "What if I have turned just as I was coming up with her?" So he turned about again, but as the hopelessness of his efforts once more occurred to him, he lost all presence of mind, and began to shout furiously, and to strike out wildly in all directions. In the midst of his mad struggles his hand struck an object floating near him. Instantly he felt his arm convulsively grasped, and the next moment he was seized round the neck in a gripe so violent that it almost choked him. He sank at once, and the instinct of self-preservation restored his presence of mind. With a powerful effort he tore Ailie from her grasp, and quickly raised himself to the surface, where he swam gently with his left hand, and held the struggling child at arm's-length with his right. The joy caused by the knowledge that she had still life to struggle infused new energy into Glynn's well-nigh exhausted frame, and he assumed as calm and cheerful a tone as was possible under the circumstances when he exclaimed--"Ailie, Ailie, don't struggle, dear, I'll save you _if you keep quiet_." Ailie was quiet in a moment. She felt in the terror of her young heart an almost irresistible desire to clutch at Glynn's neck; but the well-known voice reassured her, and her natural tendency to place blind, implicit confidence in others, served her in this hour of need, for she obeyed his injunctions at once. "Now, dear," said Glynn, with nervous rapidity, "don't grasp me, else we shall sink. Trust me. _I'll never let you go_. Will you trust me?" Ailie gazed wildly at her deliverer through her wet and tangled tresses, and with great difficulty gasped the word "Yes," while she clenched the garments on her labouring bosom with her little hands, as if to show her determination to do as she was bid. Glynn at once drew her towards him and rested her head on his shoulder. The child gave vent to a deep, broken sigh of relief, and threw her right arm round his neck, but the single word "Ailie," uttered in a remonstrative tone, caused her to draw it quickly back and again grasp her breast. All this time Glynn had been supporting himself by that process well-known to swimmers as "treading water," and had been so intent upon his purpose of securing the child, that he failed to observe the light of a lantern gleaming in the far distance on the sea, as the boat went ploughing hither and thither, the men almost breaking the oars in their desperate haste, and the captain standing in the stern-sheets, pale as death, holding the light high over his head, and gazing with a look of unutterable agony into the surrounding gloom. Glynn now saw the distant light, and exerting his voice to the utmost, gave vent to a prolonged cry. Ailie looked up in her companion's face while he listened intently. The moving light became stationary for a moment, and a faint reply floated back to them over the waves. Again Glynn raised his voice to the utmost, and the cheer that came back told him that he had been heard. But the very feeling of relief at the prospect of immediate deliverance had well-nigh proved fatal to them both; for Glynn experienced a sudden relaxation of his whole system, and he felt as if he could not support himself and his burden a minute longer. "Ailie," he said faintly but quickly, "we shall be saved if you obey at _once_; if not, we shall be drowned. Lay your two hands on my breast, and let yourself sink _down to the very lips_." Glynn turned on his back as he spoke, spread out his arms and legs to their full extent, let his head fall back, until it sank, leaving only his lips, nose, and chin above water, and lay as motionless as if he had been dead. And now came poor Ailie's severest trial. When she allowed herself to sink, and felt the water rising about her ears, and lipping round her mouth, terror again seized upon her; but she felt Glynn's breast heaving under her hands, so she raised her eyes to heaven and prayed silently to Him who is the only true deliverer from dangers. Her self-possession was restored, and soon she observed the boat bearing down on the spot, and heard the men as they shouted to attract attention. Ailie tried to reply, but her tiny voice was gone, and her soul was filled with horror as she saw the boat about to pass on. In her agony she began to struggle. This roused Glynn, who had rested sufficiently to have recovered a slight degree of strength. He immediately raised his head, and uttered a wild cry as he grasped Ailie again with his arm. The rowers paused; the light of the lantern gleamed over the sea, and fell upon the spray tossed up by Glynn. Next moment the boat swept up to them--and they were saved. The scene that followed baffles all description. Captain Dunning fell on his knees beside Ailie, who was too much exhausted to speak, and thanked God, in the name of Jesus Christ, again and again for her deliverance. A few of the men shouted; others laughed hysterically; and some wept freely as they crowded round their shipmate, who, although able to sit up, could not speak except in disjointed sentences. Glynn, however, recovered quickly, and even tried to warm himself by pulling an oar before they regained the ship, but Ailie remained in a state of partial stupor, and was finally carried on board and down into the cabin, and put between warm blankets by her father and Dr Hopley. Meanwhile, Glynn was hurried forward, and dragged down into the forecastle by the whole crew, who seemed unable to contain themselves for joy, and expressed their feelings in ways that would have been deemed rather absurd on ordinary occasions. "Change yer clo's, avic, at wance," cried Phil Briant, who was the most officious and violent in his offers of assistance to Glynn. "Och! but it's wet ye are, darlin'. Give me a howld." This last request had reference to the right leg of Glynn's trousers, which happened to be blue cloth of a rather thin quality, and which therefore clung to his limbs with such tenacity that it was a matter of the utmost difficulty to get them off. "That's your sort, Phil--a long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull all together," cried Dick Barnes, hurrying forward, with a bundle of garments in his arms. "Here's dry clo's for him." "Have a care, Phil," shouted Gurney, who stood behind Glynn and held him by the shoulders; "it'll give way." "Niver a taste," replied the reckless Irishman. But the result proved that Gurney was right, for the words had scarce escaped his lips when the garment parted at the knee, and Phil Briant went crashing back among a heap of tin pannikins, pewter plates, blocks, and cordage. A burst of laughter followed, of course, but the men's spirits were too much roused to be satisfied with this, so they converted the laugh into a howl, and prolonged it into a cheer; as if their comrade had successfully performed a difficult and praiseworthy deed. "Hold on, lads," cried Glynn. "I'm used up, I can't stand it." "Here you are," shouted Nickel Sling, pushing the men violently aside, and holding a steaming tumbler of hot brandy-and-water under Glynn's nose. "Down with it; that's the stuff to get up the steam fit to bust yer biler, I calc'late." The men looked on for a moment in silence, while Glynn drank, as if they expected some remarkable chemical change to take place in his constitution. "Och! ain't it swate?" inquired Phil Briant, who, having gathered himself up, now stood rubbing his shoulder with the fragment of the riven garment. "Av I wasn't a taytotaler, it's meself would like some of that same." In a few minutes our hero was divested of his wet garments, rubbed perfectly dry by his kind messmates, and clad in dry costume, after which he felt almost as well as if nothing unusual had happened to him. The men meanwhile cut their jokes at him or at each other as they stood round and watched, assisted, or retarded the process. As for Tim Rokens, who had been in the boat and witnessed the rescue, he stood gazing steadfastly at Glynn without uttering a word, keeping his thumbs the while hooked in the arm-holes of his vest, and his legs very much apart. By degrees--as he thought on what had passed, and the narrow escape poor little Ailie had had, and the captain's tears, things he had never seen the captain shed before and had not believed the captain to have possessed--as he pondered these things, we say, his knotty visage began to work, and his cast-iron chin began to quiver, and his shaggy brows contracted, and his nose, besides becoming purple, began to twist, as if it were an independent member of his face, and he came, in short, to that climax which is familiarly expressed by the words "bursting into tears." But if anybody thinks the act, on the part of Tim Rokens, bore the smallest resemblance to the generally received idea of that sorrowful affection, "anybody," we take leave to tell him, is very much mistaken. The bold harpooner did it thus--he suddenly unhooked his right hand from the arm-hole of his vest, and gave his right thigh a slap which produced a crack that would have made a small pistol envious; then he uttered a succession of ferocious roars, that might have quite well indicated pain, or grief, or madness, or a drunken cheer, and, un-hooking the left hand, he doubled himself up, and thrust both knuckles into his eyes. The knuckles were wet when he pulled them out of his eyes, but he dried them on his pantaloons, bolted up the hatchway, and rushing up to the man at the wheel, demanded in a voice of thunder--"How's 'er head?" "Sou'-sou'-east-and-by-east," replied the man, in some surprise. "Sou'-sou'-east-and-by-east!" repeated Mr Rokens, in a savage growl of authority, as if he were nothing less than the admiral of the Channel Fleet. "That's two points and a half off yer course, sir. Luff, luff, you--you--" At this point Tim Rokens turned on his heel, and began to walk up and down the deck as calmly as if nothing whatever had occurred to disturb his equanimity. "The captain wants Glynn Proctor," said the second mate, looking down the fore-hatch. "Ay, ay, sir," answered Glynn, ascending, and going aft. "Ailie wants to see you, Glynn, my boy," said Captain Dunning, as the former entered the cabin; "and I want to speak to you myself--to thank you Glynn. Ah, lad! you can't know what a father's heart feels when--Go to her, boy." He grasped the youth's hand, and gave it a squeeze that revealed infinitely more of his feelings than could have been done by words. Glynn returned the squeeze, and opening the door of Ailie's private cabin, entered and sat down beside her crib. "Oh, Glynn, I want to speak to you; I want to thank you. I love you so much for jumping into the sea after me," began the child, eagerly, and raising herself on one elbow while she held out her hand. "Ailie," interrupted Glynn, taking her hand, and holding up his finger to impose silence, "you obeyed me _in_ the water, and now I insist on your obedience _out_ of the water. If you don't, I'll leave you. You're still too weak to toss about and speak loud in this way. Lie down, my pet." Glynn kissed her forehead, and forced her gently back on the pillow. "Well, I'll be good, but don't leave me yet, Glynn. I'm much better. Indeed, I feel quite strong. Oh! it was good of you--" "There you go again." "I love you," said Ailie. "I've no objection to that," replied Glynn, "but don't excite yourself. But tell me, Ailie, how was it that you managed to keep afloat so long? The more I think of it the more I am filled with amazement, and, in fact, I'm half inclined to think that God worked a miracle in order to save you." "I don't know," said Ailie, looking very grave and earnest, as she always did when our Maker's name happened to be mentioned. "Does God work miracles still?" "Men say not," replied Glynn. "I'm sure I don't quite understand what a miracle is," continued Ailie, "although Aunt Martha and Aunt Jane have often tried to explain it to me. Is floating on your back a miracle?" "No," said Glynn, laughing; "it isn't." "Well, that's the way I was saved. You know, ever since I can remember, I have bathed with Aunt Martha and Aunt Jane, and they taught me how to float--and it's so nice, you can't think how nice it is--and I can do it so easily now, that I never get frightened. But, oh!--when I was tossed over the side of the ship into the sea I _was_ frightened just. I don't think I _ever_ got such a fright. And I splashed about for some time, and swallowed some water, but I got upon my back somehow. I can't tell how it was, for I was too frightened to try to do anything. But when I found myself floating as I used to do long ago, I felt my fear go away a little, and I shut my eyes and prayed, and then it went away altogether; and I felt quite sure you would come to save me, and you _did_ come, Glynn, and I know it was God who sent you. But I became a good deal frightened again when I thought of the sharks, and--" "Now, Ailie, stop!" said Glynn. "You're forgetting your promise, and exciting yourself again." "So she is, and I must order you out, Master Glynn," said the doctor, opening the door, and entering at that moment. Glynn rose, patted the child's head, and nodded cheerfully as he left the little cabin. The captain caught him as he passed, and began to reiterate his thanks, when their conversation was interrupted by the voice of Mr Millons, who put his head in at the skylight and said--"Squall coming, sir, I think." "So, so," cried the captain, running upon deck. "I've been looking for it. Call all hands, Mr Millons, and take in sail--every rag, except the storm-trysails." Glynn hurried forward, and in a few minutes every man was at his post. The sails were furled, and every preparation made for a severe squall; for Captain Dunning knew that that part of the coast of Africa off which the _Red Eric_ was then sailing was subject to sudden squalls, which, though usually of short duration, were sometimes terrific in their violence. "Is everything snug, Mr Millons?" "All snug, sir." "Then let the men stand-by till it's over." The night had grown intensely dark, but away on the starboard-quarter the heavens appeared of an ebony blackness that was quite appalling. This appearance, that rose on the sky like a shroud of crape, quickly spread upwards until it reached the zenith. Then a few gleams of light seemed to illuminate it very faintly, and a distant hissing noise was heard. A dead calm surrounded the ship, which lay like a log on the water, and the crew, knowing that nothing more could be done in the way of preparation, awaited the bursting of the storm with uneasy feelings. In a few minutes its distant roar was heard,--like muttered thunder. On it came, with a steady continuous roar, as if chaos were about to be restored, and the crashing wreck of elements were being hurled in mad fury against the yet unshattered portions of creation. Another second, and the ship was on her beam-ends, and the sea and sky were white as milk as the wind tore up the waves and beat them flat, and whirled away broad sheets of driving foam. CHAPTER EIGHT. THE STORM, AND ITS RESULTS. Although the _Red Eric_ was thrown on her beam-ends, or nearly so, by the excessive violence of the squall, the preparations to meet it had been so well made that she righted again almost immediately, and now flew before the wind under bare poles with a velocity that was absolutely terrific. Ailie had been nearly thrown out of her berth when the ship lay over, and now when she listened to the water hissing and gurgling past the little port that lighted her cabin, and felt the staggering of the vessel, as burst after burst of the hurricane almost tore the masts out of her, she lay trembling with anxiety and debating with herself whether or not she ought to rise and go on deck. Captain Dunning well knew that his child would be naturally filled with fear, for this was the first severe squall she had ever experienced, so, as he could not quit the deck himself, he called Glynn Proctor to him and sent him down with a message. "Well, Ailie," said Glynn, cheerfully, as he opened the door and peeped in; "how d'ye get on, dear? The captain has sent me to say that the worst o' this blast is over, and you've nothing to fear." "I am glad to hear that, Glynn," replied the child, holding out her hand, while a smile lighted up her face and smoothed out the lines of anxiety from her brow. "Come and sit by me, Glynn, and tell me what like it is. I wish so much that I had been on deck. Was it grand, Glynn?" "It was uncommonly grand; it was even terrible--but I cannot sit with you more than a minute, else my shipmates will say that I'm skulking." "Skulking, Glynn! What is that?" "Why, it's--it's shirking work, you know," said Glynn, somewhat puzzled. Ailie laughed. "But you forget that I don't know what `shirking' means. You must explain that too." "How terribly green you are, Ailie." "No! am I?" exclaimed the child in some surprise. "What _can_ have done it? I'm not sick." Glynn laughed outright at this, and then proceeded to explain the meaning of the slang phraseology he had used. "Green, you must know, means ignorant," he began. "How funny! I wonder why." "Well, I don't know exactly. Perhaps it's because when a fellow's asked to answer questions he don't understand, he's apt to turn either blue with rage or yellow with fear--or both; and that, you know, would make him green. I've heard it said that it implies a comparison of men to plants--very young ones, you know, that are just up, just born, as it were, and have not had much experience of life, are green of course--but I like my own definition best." It may perhaps be scarcely necessary to remark that our hero was by no means singular in this little preference of his own definition to that of any one else! "Well, and what does skulking mean, and shirking work?" persisted Ailie. "It means hiding so as to escape duty, my little catechist; but--" "Hallo! Glynn, Glynn Proctor," roared the first mate from the deck--"where's that fellow? Skulking, I'll be bound. Lay aloft there and shake out the foretopsail. Look alive." "Ay, ay, sir," was the ready response as the men sprang to obey. "There, you have it now, Ailie, explained and illustrated," cried Glynn, starting up. "Here I am, at this minute in a snug, dry berth chatting to you, and in half a minute more I'll be out on the end o' the foreyard holding on for bare life, with the wind fit to tear off my jacket and blow my ducks into ribbons, and the rain and spray dashing all over me fit to blot me out altogether. There's a pretty little idea to turn over in your mind, Ailie, while I'm away." Glynn closed the door at the last word, and, as he had prophesied, was, within half a minute, in the unenviable position above referred to. The force of the squall was already broken, and the men were busy setting close-reefed topsails, but the rain that followed the squall bid fair to "blot them out," as Glynn said, altogether. It came down, not in drops, but in masses, which were caught up by the fierce gale and mingled with the spray, and hurled about and on with such violent confusion, that it seemed as though the whole creation were converted into wind and water, and had engaged in a war of extermination, the central turmoil of which was the _Red Eric_. But the good ship held on nobly. Although not a fast sailer she was an excellent sea-boat, and danced on the billows like a sea-mew. The squall, however, was not over. Before the topsails had been set many minutes it burst on them again with redoubled fury, and the main-topsail was instantly blown into ribbons. Glynn and his comrades were once more ordered aloft to furl the remaining sails, but before this could be done the foretopmast was carried away, and in falling it tore away the jib-boom also. At the same moment a tremendous sea came rolling on astern; in the uncertain light it looked like a dark moving mountain that was about to fall on them. "Luff, luff a little--steady!" roared the captain, who saw the summit of the wave toppling over the stern, and who fully appreciated the danger of being "pooped," which means having a wave launched upon the quarterdeck. "Steady it is," replied the steersman. "Look out!" shouted the captain and several of the men, simultaneously. Every one seized hold of whatever firm object chanced to be within reach; next moment the black billow fell like an avalanche on the poop, and rushing along the decks, swept the waist-boat and all the loose spars into the sea. The ship staggered under the shock, and it seemed to every one on deck that she must inevitably founder; but in a few seconds she recovered, the water gushed from the scuppers and sides in cataracts, and once more they drove swiftly before the gale. In about twenty minutes the wind moderated, and while some of the men went aloft to clear away the wreck of the topsails and make all snug, others went below to put on dry garments. "That was a narrow escape, Mr Millons," remarked the captain, as he stood by the starboard-rails. "It was, sir," replied the mate. "It's a good job too, sir, that none o' the 'ands were washed overboard." "It is, indeed, Mr Millons; we've reason to be thankful for that; but I'm sorry to see that we've lost our waist-boat." "We've lost our spare sticks, sir," said the mate, with a lugubrious face, while he wrung the brine out of his hair; "and I fear we've nothink left fit to make a noo foretopmast or a jib-boom." "True, Mr Millons; we shall have to run to the nearest port on the African coast to refit; luckily we are not very far from it. Meanwhile, tell Mr Markham to try the well; it is possible that we may have sprung a leak in all this straining, and see that the wreck of the foretopmast is cleared away. I shall go below and consult the chart; if any change in the weather takes place, call me at once." "Yes, sir," answered the mate, as he placed his hand to windward of his mouth, in order to give full force to the terrific tones in which he proceeded to issue his captain's commands. Captain Dunning went below, and looking into Ailie's berth, nodded his wet head several times, and smiled with his damp visage benignly--which acts, however well meant and kindly they might be, were, under the circumstances, quite unnecessary, seeing that the child was sound asleep. The captain then dried his head and face with a towel about as rough as the mainsail of a seventy-four, and with a violence that would have rubbed the paint off the figurehead of the _Red Eric_. Then he sat down to his chart, and having pondered over it for some minutes, he went to the foot of the companion-ladder and roared up--"Lay the course nor'-nor'-east-and-by-nor'-half-nor', Mr Millons." To which Mr Millons replied in an ordinary tone, "Ay, ay, sir," and then roared--"Lay her head nor'-nor'-east-and-by-nor'-half-nor'," in an unnecessarily loud and terribly fierce tone of voice to the steersman, as if that individual were in the habit of neglecting to obey orders, and required to be perpetually threatened in what may be called a tone of implication. The steersman answered in what, to a landsman, would have sounded as a rather amiable and forgiving tone of voice--"Nor'-nor'-east-and-by-nor'-half-nor' it is, sir;" and thereupon the direction of the ship's head was changed, and the _Red Eric_, according to Tim Rokens, "bowled along" with a stiff breeze on the quarter, at the rate of ten knots, for the west coast of Africa. CHAPTER NINE. RAMBLES ON SHORE, AND STRANGE THINGS AND CEREMONIES WITNESSED THERE. Variety is charming. No one laying claim to the smallest amount of that very uncommon attribute, common-sense, will venture to question the truth of that statement. Variety is so charming that men and women, boys and girls, are always, all of them, hunting after it. To speak still more emphatically on this subject, we venture to affirm that it is an absolute necessity of animal nature. Were any positive and short-sighted individual to deny this position, and sit down during the remainder of his life in a chair and look straight before him, in order to prove that he could live without variety, he would seek it in change of position. If he did not do that, he would seek it in change of thought. If he did not do _that_, he would die! Fully appreciating this great principle of our nature, and desiring to be charmed with a little variety, Tim Rokens and Phil Briant presented themselves before Captain Dunning one morning about a week after the storm, and asked leave to go ashore. The reader may at first think the men were mad, but he will change his opinion when we tell him that four days after the storm in question the _Red Eric_ had anchored in the harbour formed by the mouth of one of the rivers on the African coast, where white men trade with the natives for bar-wood and ivory, and where they also carry on that horrible traffic in negroes, the existence of which is a foul disgrace to humanity. "Go ashore!" echoed Captain Dunning. "Why, if you all go on at this rate, we'll never get ready for sea. However, you may go, but don't wander too far into the interior, and look out for elephants and wild men o' the woods, boys--keep about the settlements." "Ay, ay, sir, and thank'ee," replied the two men, touching their caps as they retired. "Please, sir, I want to go too," said Glynn Proctor, approaching the captain. "What! more wanting to go ashore?" "Yes, and so do I," cried Ailie, running forward and clasping her father's rough hand; "I did enjoy myself _so_ much yesterday, that I must go on shore again to-day, and I must go with Glynn. He'll take such famous care of me; now _won't_ you let me go, papa?" "Upon my word, this looks like preconcerted mutiny. However, I don't mind if I do let you go, but have a care, Glynn, that you don't lose sight of her for a moment, and keep to the shore and the settlements. I've no notion of allowing her to be swallowed by an alligator, or trampled on by an elephant, or run away with by a gorilla." "Never fear, sir. You may trust me; I'll take good care of her." With a shout of delight the child ran down to the cabin to put on her bonnet, and quickly reappeared, carrying in her hand a basket which she purposed to fill with a valuable collection of plants, minerals and insects. These she meant to preserve and carry home as a surprise to aunts Martha and Jane, both of whom were passionately fond of mineralogy, delighted in botany, luxuriated in entomology, doted on conchology, and raved about geology--all of which sciences they studied superficially, and specimens of which they collected and labelled beautifully, and stowed away carefully in a little cabinet, which they termed (not jocularly, but seriously) their "Bureau of Omnology." It was a magnificent tropical morning when the boat left the side of the _Red Eric_ and landed Glynn and Ailie, Tim Rokens and Phil Briant on the wharf that ran out from the yellow beach of the harbour in which their vessel lay. The sun had just risen. The air was cool (comparatively) and motionless, so that the ocean lay spread out like a pure mirror, and revealed its treasures and mysteries to a depth of many fathoms. The sky was intensely blue and the sun intensely bright, while the atmosphere was laden with the delightful perfume of the woods--a perfume that is sweet and pleasant to those long used to it, how much more enchanting to nostrils rendered delicately sensitive by long exposure to the scentless gales of ocean? One of the sailors who had shown symptoms of weakness in the chest during the voyage, had begged to be discharged and left ashore at this place. He could ill be spared, but as he was fit for nothing, the captain agreed to his request, and resolved to procure a negro to act as cook's assistant in the place of Phil Briant, who was too useful a man to remain in so subordinate a capacity. The sick man was therefore sent on shore in charge of Tim Rokens. On landing they were met by a Portuguese slave-dealer, an American trader, a dozen or two partially-clothed negroes, and a large concourse of utterly naked little negro children, who proved to demonstration that they were of the same nature and spirit with white children, despite the colour of their skins, by taking intense delight in all the amusements practised by the fair-skinned juveniles of more northern lands--namely scampering after each other, running and yelling, indulging in mischief, spluttering in the waters, rolling on the sand, staring at the strangers, making impudent remarks, and punching each other's heads. If the youth of America ever wish to prove that they are of a distinct race from the sable sons of Africa, their only chance is to become paragons of perfection, and give up _all_ their wicked ways. "Oh!" exclaimed Ailie, half amused, half frightened, as Glynn lifted her out of the boat; "oh! how funny! Don't they look so _very_ like as if they were all painted black?" "Good-day to you, gentlemen," cried the trader, as he approached the landing. "Got your foretop damaged, I see. Plenty of sticks here to mend it. Be glad to assist you in any way I can. Was away in the woods when you arrived, else I'd have come to offer sooner." The trader, who was a tall, sallow man in a blue cotton shirt, sailor's trousers, and a broad-brimmed straw hat, addressed himself to Glynn, whose gentlemanly manner led him to believe he was in command of the party. "Thank you," replied Glynn, "we've got a little damage--lost a good boat, too; but we'll soon repair the mast. We have come ashore just now, however, mainly for a stroll." "Ay," put in Phil Briant, who was amusing the black children--and greatly delighting himself by nodding and smiling ferociously at them, with a view to making a favourable impression on the natives of this new country. "Ay, sir, an' sure we've comed to land a sick shipmate who wants to see the doctor uncommon. Have ye sich an article in these parts?" "No, not exactly," replied the trader, "but I do a little in that way myself; perhaps I may manage to cure him if he comes up to my house." "We wants a nigger too," said Rokens, who, while the others were talking, was extremely busy filling his pipe. At this remark the trader looked knowing. "Oh!" he said, "that's your game, is it? There's your man there; I've nothing to do with such wares." He pointed to the Portuguese slave-dealer as he spoke. Seeing himself thus referred to, the slave-dealer came forward, hat in hand, and made a polite bow. He was a man of extremely forbidding aspect. A long dark visage, which terminated in a black peaked beard, and was surmounted by a tall-crowned broad-brimmed straw hat, stood on the top of a long, raw-boned, thin, sinewy, shrivelled, but powerful frame, that had battled with and defeated all the fevers and other diseases peculiar to the equatorial regions of Africa. He wore a short light-coloured cotton jacket and pantaloons--the latter much too short for his limbs, but the deficiency was more than made up by a pair of Wellington boots. His natural look was a scowl. His assumed smile of politeness was so unnatural, that Tim Rokens thought, as he gazed at him, he would have preferred greatly to have been frowned at by him. Even Ailie, who did not naturally think ill of any one, shrank back as he approached and grasped Glynn's hand more firmly than usual. "Goot morning, gentl'm'n. You was vish for git nigger, I suppose." "Well, we wos," replied Tim, with a faint touch of sarcasm in his tone. "Can _you_ get un for us?" "Yees, sare, as many you please," replied the slave-dealer, with a wink that an ogre might have envied. "Have great many ob 'em stay vid me always." "Ah! then, they must be fond o' bad company," remarked Briant, in an undertone, "to live along wid such a alligator." "Well, then," said Tim Rokens, who had completed the filling of his pipe, and was now in the full enjoyment of it; "let's see the feller, an' I'll strike a bargain with him, if he seems a likely chap." "You will have strike de bargin vid _me_," said the dealer. "I vill charge you ver' leetle, suppose you take full cargo." The whole party, who were ignorant of the man's profession, started at this remark, and looked at the dealer in surprise. "Wot!" exclaimed Tim Rokens, withdrawing his pipe from his lips; "do you _sell_ niggers?" "Yees, to be surely," replied the man, with a peculiarly saturnine smile. "A slave-dealer?" exclaimed Briant, clenching his fists. "Even so, sare." At this Briant uttered a shout, and throwing forward his clenched fists in a defiant attitude, exclaimed between his set teeth-- "Arrah! come on!" Most men have peculiarities. Phil Briant had many; but his most striking peculiarity, and that which led him frequently into extremely awkward positions, was a firm belief that his special calling--in an amateur point of view--was the redressing of wrongs--not wrongs of a particular class, or wrongs of an excessively glaring and offensive nature, but _all_ wrongs whatsoever. It mattered not to Phil whether the wrong had to be righted by force of argument or force of arms. He considered himself an accomplished practitioner in both lines of business--and in regard to the latter his estimate of his powers was not very much too high, for he was a broad-shouldered, deep-chested, long-armed fellow, and had acquired a scientific knowledge of boxing under a celebrated bruiser at the expense of a few hard-earned shillings, an occasional bottle of poteen, and many a severe thrashing. Justice to Phil's amiability of character requires, however, that we should state that he never sought to terminate an argument with his fists unless he was invited to do so, and even then he invariably gave his rash challenger fair warning, and offered to let him retreat if so disposed. But when injustice met his eye, or when he happened to see cruelty practised by the strong against the weak, his blood fired at once, and he only deigned the short emphatic remark--"Come on," sometimes preceded by "Arrah!" sometimes not. Generally speaking, he accepted his own challenge, and _went_ on forthwith. Of all the iniquities that draw forth the groans of humanity on this sad earth, slavery, in the opinion of Phil Briant, was the worst. He had never come in contact with it, not having been in the Southern States of America. He knew from hearsay that the coast of Africa was its fountain, but he had forgotten the fact, and in the novelty of the scene before him, it did not at first occur to him that he was actually face to face with a "live slave-dealer." "Let me go!" roared the Irishman, as he struggled in the iron grip of Tim Rokens; and the not less powerful grasp of Glynn Proctor. "Och! let me go! _Doo_, darlints. I'll only give him wan--jist _wan_! Let me go, will ye?" "Not if I can help it," said Glynn, tightening his grasp. "Wot a cross helephant it is," muttered Rokens, as he thrust his hand into his comrade's neckcloth and quietly began to choke him as he dragged him away towards the residence of the trader, who was an amused as well as surprised spectator of this unexpected ebullition of passion. At length Phil Briant allowed himself to be forced away from the beach where the slave-dealer stood with his arms crossed on his breast, and a sarcastic smile playing on his thin lips. Had that Portuguese trafficker in human flesh known how quickly Briant could have doubled the size of his long nose and shut up both his eyes, he would probably have modified the expression of his countenance; but he didn't know it, so he looked after the party until they had entered the dwelling of the trader, and then sauntered up towards the woods, which in this place came down to within a few yards of the beach. The settlement was a mere collection of rudely-constructed native huts, built of bamboos and roofed with a thatch of palm-leaves. In the midst of it stood a pretty white-painted cottage with green-edged windows and doors, and a verandah in front. This was the dwelling of the trader; and alongside of it, under the same roof, was the store, in which were kept the guns, beads, powder and shot, etcetera, etcetera, which he exchanged with the natives of the interior for elephants' tusks and bar-wood, from which latter a beautiful dye is obtained; also ebony, indiarubber, and other products of the country. Here the trader entertained Tim Rokens and Phil Briant with stories of the slave-trade; and here we shall leave them while we follow Glynn and Ailie, who went off together to ramble along the shore of the calm sea. They had not gone far when specimens of the strange creatures that dwell in these lands presented themselves to their astonished gaze. There were birds innumerable on the shore, on the surface of the ocean, and in the woods. The air was alive with them; many being similar to the birds they had been familiar with from infancy, while others were new and strange. To her immense delight Ailie saw many living specimens of the bird-of-paradise, the graceful plumes of which she had frequently beheld on very high and important festal occasions, nodding on the heads of Aunt Martha and Aunt Jane. But the prettiest of all the birds she saw there was a small creature with a breast so red and bright, that it seemed, as it flew about, like a little ball of fire. There were many of them flying about near a steep bank, in holes of which they built their nests. She observed that they fed upon flies which they caught while skimming through the air, and afterwards learned that they were called bee-eaters. "Oh! look!" exclaimed Ailie in that tone of voice which indicated that a surprising discovery had been made. Ailie was impulsive, and the _tones_ in which she exclaimed "Oh!" were so varied, emphatic, and distinct, that those who knew her well could tell exactly the state of her mind on hearing the exclamation. At present, her "Oh!" indicated surprise mingled with alarm. "Eh! what, where?" cried Glynn, throwing forward his musket--for he had taken the precaution to carry one with him, not knowing what he might meet with on such a coast. "The snake! look--oh!" At that moment a huge black snake, about ten feet long, showed itself in the grass. Glynn took aim at once, but the piece, being an old flint-lock, missed fire. Before he could again take aim the loathsome-looking reptile had glided into the underwood, which in most places was so overgrown with the rank and gigantic vegetation of the tropics as to be quite impenetrable. "Ha! he's gone, Ailie!" cried Glynn, in a tone of disappointment, as he put fresh priming into the pan of his piece. "We must be careful in walking here, it seems. This wretched old musket! Lucky for us that our lives did not depend on it. I wonder if it was a poisonous serpent?" "Perhaps it was," said Ailie, with a look of deep solemnity, as she took her companion's left hand, and trotted along by his side. "Are not all serpents poisonous?" "Oh dear, no. Why, there are some kinds that are quite harmless. But as I don't know which are and which are not, we must look upon all as enemies until we become more knowing." Presently they came to the mouth of a river--one of those sluggish streams on the African coast, which suggest the idea of malaria and the whole family of low fevers. It glided through a mangrove swamp, where the tree seemed to be standing on their roots, which served the purpose of stilts to keep them out of the mud. The river was oily, and sluggish, and hot-looking, and its mud-banks were slimy and liquid, so that it was not easy to say whether the water of the river was mud, or the mud on the bank was water. It was a place that made one involuntarily think of creeping monsters, and crawling objects, and slimy things! "Look! oh! oh! such a darling pet!" exclaimed Ailie, as they stood near the banks of this river wondering what monster would first cleave the muddy waters, and raise its hideous head. She pointed to the bough of a dead tree near which they stood, and on which sat the "darling pet" referred to. It was a very small monkey with white whiskers; a dumpy little thing, that looked at them with an expression of surprise quite equal in intensity to their own. Seeing that it was discovered, the "darling pet" opened its little mouth, and uttered a succession of "Ohs!" that rendered Ailie's exclamations quite insignificant by comparison. They were sharp and short, and rapidly uttered, while, at the same time, two rows of most formidable teeth were bared, along with the gums that held them. At this Ailie and her companion burst into a fit of irrepressible laughter, whereupon the "darling pet" put itself into such a passion-- grinned, and coughed, and gasped, and shook the tree, and writhed, and glared, to such an extent that Glynn said he thought it would burst, and Ailie agreed that it was very likely. Finding that this terrible display of fury had no effect on the strangers, the "darling pet" gave utterance to a farewell shriek of passion, and, bounding nimbly into the woods, disappeared. "Oh, _what_ a funny beast," said Ailie, sitting down on a stone, and drying her eyes, which had filled with tears from excessive laughter. "Indeed it was," said Glynn. "It's my opinion that a monkey is the funniest beast in the world." "No, Glynn; a kitten's funnier," said Ailie, with a degree of emphasis that showed she had considered the subject well, and had fully made up her mind in regard to it long ago. "I think a kitten's the _very_ funniest beast in all the whole world." "Well, perhaps it is," said Glynn thoughtfully. "Did you ever see _three_ kittens together?" asked Ailie. "No; I don't think I ever did. I doubt if I have seen even two together. Why?" "Oh! because they are so very, very funny. Sit down beside me, and I'll tell you about three kittens I once had. They were very little--at least they were little before they got big." Glynn laughed. "Oh, you know what I mean. They were able to play when they were very little, you know." "Yes, yes, I understand. Go on." "Well, two were grey, and one was white and grey, but most of it was white; and when they went to play, one always hid itself to watch, and then the other two began, and came up to each other with little jumps, and their backs up and tails curved, and hair all on end, glaring at each other, and pretending that they were so angry. Do you know, Glynn, I really believe they sometimes forgot it was pretence, and actually became angry. But the fun was, that, when the two were just going to fly at each other, the third one, who had been watching, used to dart out and give them _such_ a fright--a _real_ fright, you know--which made them jump, oh! three times their own height up into the air, and they came down again with a _fuff_ that put the third one in a fright too; so that they all scattered away from each other as if they had gone quite mad. What's that?" "It's a fish, I think," said Glynn, rising and going towards the river, to look at the object that had attracted his companion's attention. "It's a shark, I do believe." In a few seconds the creature came so close that they could see it quite distinctly; and on a more careful inspection, they observed that the mouth of the river was full of these ravenous monsters. Soon after they saw monsters of a still more ferocious aspect; for while they were watching the sharks, two crocodiles put up their snouts, and crawled sluggishly out of the water upon a mud-bank, where they lay down, apparently with the intention of taking a nap in the sunshine. They were too far off, however, to be well seen. "Isn't it strange, Glynn, that there are such ugly beasts in the world?" said Ailie. "I wonder why God made them?" "So do I," said Glynn, looking at the child's thoughtful face in some surprise. "I suppose they must be of some sort of use." "Oh! yes, _of course_ they are," rejoined Ailie quickly. "Aunt Martha and Aunt Jane used to tell me that every creature was made by God for some good purpose; and when I came to the crocodile in my book, they said it was certainly of use too, though they did not know what. I remember it very well, because I was _so_ surprised to hear that Aunt Martha and Aunt Jane did not know _everything_." "No doubt Aunt Martha and Aunt Jane were right," said Glynn, with a smile. "I confess, however, that crocodiles seem to me to be of no other use than to kill and eat up everything that comes within the reach of their terrible jaws. But, indeed, now I think of it, the very same may be said of man, for _he_ kills and eats up at least everything that he _wants_ to put into his jaws." "So he does," said Ailie; "isn't it funny?" "Isn't what funny?" asked Glynn. "That we should be no better than crocodiles--at least, I mean about eating." "You forget, Ailie, we cook our food." "Oh! so we do. I did not remember to think of that. That's a great difference, indeed." Leaving Glynn and his little charge to philosophise on the resemblance between men and crocodiles, we shall now return to Tim Rokens and Phil Briant, whom we left in the trader's cottage. The irate Irishman had been calmed down by reason and expostulation, and had again been roused to great indignation several times since we left him, by the account of things connected with the slave-trade, given him by the trader, who, although he had no interest in it himself, did not feel very much aggrieved by the sufferings he witnessed around him. "You don't mane to tell me, now, that _whalers_ comes in here for slaves, do ye?" said Briant, placing his two fists on his two knees, and thrusting his head towards the trader, who admitted that he meant to say that; and that he meant, moreover, to add, that the thing was by no means of rare occurrence--that whaling ships occasionally ran into that very port on their way south, shipped a cargo of negroes, sold them at the nearest slave-buying port they could make on the American coast, and then proceeded on their voyage, no one being a whit the wiser. "You don't mean it?" remarked Tim Rokens, crossing his legs and devoting himself to his pipe, with the air of a man who mourned the depravity of his species, but did not feel called upon to disturb his equanimity very much because of it. Phil Briant clenched his teeth, and glared. "Indeed I do mean it," reiterated the trader. "Would you believe it, there was one whaler put in here, and what does he do but go and invite a lot o' free blacks aboard to have a blow-out; and no sooner did he get them down into the hold then he shut down the hatches, sailed away, and sold 'em every one." "Ah! morther, couldn't I burst?" groaned Phil; "an' ov coorse they left a lot o' fatherless children and widders behind 'em." "They did; but all the widders are married again, and most of the children are grown up." Briant looked as if he did not feel quite sure whether he ought to regard this as a comforting piece of information or the reverse, and wisely remained silent. "And now you must excuse me if I leave you to ramble about alone for some time, as I have business to transact; meanwhile I'll introduce you to a nigger who will show you about the place, and one who, if I mistake not, will gladly accompany you to sea as steward's assistant." The trader opened a door which led to the back part of his premises, and shouted to a stout negro who was sawing wood there, and who came forward with alacrity. "Ho! Neepeelootambo, go take these gentlemen round about the village, and let them see all that is to be seen." "Yes, massa." "And they've got something to say to you about going to sea--would you like to go?" The negro grinned, and as his mouth was of the largest possible size, it is not exaggeration to say that the grin extended from ear to ear, but he made no other reply. "Well, please yourself. You're a free man--you may do as you choose." Neepeelootambo, who was almost naked, having only a small piece of cloth wrapped round his waist and loins, grinned again, displaying a double row of teeth worthy of a shark in so doing, and led his new friends from the house. "Now," said Tim Rokens, turning to the negro, and pointing along the shore, "we'll go along this way and jaw the matter over. Business first, and pleasure, if ye can get it, arterwards--them's my notions, Nip--Nip--Nippi--what's your name?" "Coo Tumble, I think," suggested Briant. "Ay, Nippiloo Bumble--wot a jaw-breaker! so git along, old boy." The negro, who was by no means an "old boy," but a stalwart man in the prime of life, stepped out, and as they walked along, both Rokens and Briant did their best to persuade him to ship on board the _Red Eric_, but without success. They were somewhat surprised as well as chagrined, having been led to expect that the man would consent at once. But no alluring pictures of the delights of seafaring life, or the pleasures and excitements of the whale-fishery, had the least effect on their sable companion. Even sundry shrewd hints, thrown out by Phil Briant, that "the steward had always command o' the wittles, and that his assistant would only have to help himself when convanient," failed to move him. "Well, Nippi-Boo-Tumble," cried Tim Rokens, who in his disappointment unceremoniously contracted his name, "it's my opinion--private opinion, mark'ee--that you're a ass, an' you'll come for to repent of it." "Troth, Nippi-Bumble, he's about right," added Briant coaxingly. "Come now, avic, wot's the raisin ye won't go? Sure we ain't blackguards enough to ax ye to come for to be sold; it's all fair and above board. Why won't ye, now?" The negro stopped, and turning towards them, drew himself proudly up; then, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him, he advanced a step and held up his forefinger to impose silence. "You no tell what I go to say? at least, not for one, two day." "Niver a word, honour bright," said Phil, in a confidential tone, while Rokens expressed the same sentiment by means of an emphatic wink and nod. "You mus' know," said the negro, earnestly, "me expec's to be made a king!" "A wot?" exclaimed both his companions in the same breath, and very much in the same tone. "A king." "Wot?" said Rokens; "d'ye mean, a ruler of this here country?" Neepeelootambo nodded his head so violently that it was a marvel it remained on his shoulders. "Yis. Ho! ho! ho! 'xpec's to be a king." "And when are ye to be crowned, Bumble?" inquired Briant, rather sceptically, as they resumed their walk. "Oh, me no say me _goin'_ to be king; me only _'xpec's_ dat." "Werry good," returned Rokens; "but wot makes ye for to expect it?" "Aha! Me berry clebber fellow--know most ebbery ting. Me hab doo'd good service to dis here country. Me can fight like one leopard, and me hab kill great few elephant and gorilla. Not much mans here hab shoot de gorilla, him sich terriferick beast; 'bove five foot six tall, and bigger round de breast dan you or me--dat is a great true fact. Also, me can spok Englis'." "An' so you expec's they're goin' to make you a king for all that?" "Yis, dat is fat me 'xpec's, for our old king be just dead; but dey nebber tell who dey going to make king till dey do it. I not more sure ob it dan the nigger dat walk dare before you." Neepeelootambo pointed as he spoke to a negro who certainly had a more kingly aspect than any native they had yet seen. He was a perfect giant, considerably above six feet high, and broad in proportion. He wore no clothing on the upper part of his person, but his legs were encased in a pair of old canvas trousers, which had been made for a man of ordinary stature, so that his huge bony ankles were largely exposed to view. Just as Phil and Rokens stopped to take a good look at him before passing on, a terrific yell issued from the bushes, and instantly after, a negro ran towards the black giant and administered to him a severe kick on the thigh, following it up with a cuff on the side of the head, at the same time howling something in the native tongue, which our friends of course did not understand. This man was immediately followed by three other blacks, one of whom pulled the giant's hair, the other pulled his nose, and the third spat in his face! It is needless to remark that the sailors witnessed this unprovoked assault with unutterable amazement. But the most remarkable part of it was, that the fellow, instead of knocking all his assailants down, as he might have done without much trouble, quietly submitted to the indignities heaped upon him; nay, he even smiled upon his tormentors, who increased in numbers every minute, running out from among the bushes and surrounding the unoffending man, and uttering wild shouts as they maltreated him. "Wot's he bin doin'?" inquired Rokens, turning to his black companion. But Rokens received no answer, for Neepeelootambo was looking on at the scene with an expression so utterly woe-begone and miserable that one would imagine he was himself suffering the rough usage he witnessed. "Arrah! ye don't appear to be chairful," said Briant, laughing, as he looked in the negro's face. "This is a quare counthrie, an' no mistake;--it seems to be always blowin' a gale o' surprises. Wot's wrong wid ye, Bumble?" The negro groaned. "Sure that may be a civil answer, but it's not o' much use. Hallo! what air they doin' wid the poor cratur now?" As he spoke the crowd seized the black giant by the arms and neck and hair, and dragged him away towards the village, leaving our friends in solitude. "A very purty little scene," remarked Phil Briant when they were out of sight; "very purty indade, av we only knowed wot it's all about." If the surprise of the two sailors was great at what they had just witnessed, it was increased tenfold by the subsequent behaviour of their negro companion. That eccentric individual suddenly checked his groans, gave vent to a long, deep sigh, and assuming a resigned expression of countenance, rose up and said--"Ho! It all ober now, massa." "I do believe," remarked Rokens, looking gravely at his shipmate, "that the feller's had an attack of the mollygrumbles, an's got better all of a suddint." "No, massa, dat not it. But me willin' to go wid you now to de sea." "Eh? willin' to go? Why, Nippi-Too-Cumble, wot a rum customer you are, to be sure!" "Yis, massa," rejoined the negro. "Me not goin' to be king now, anyhow; so it ob no use stoppin' here. Me go to sea." "Not goin' to be king? How d'ye know that?" "'Cause dat oder nigger, him be made king in a berry short time. You mus' know, dat w'en dey make wan king in dis here place, de peeple choose de man; but dey not let him know. He may guess if him please-- like me--but p'raps him guess wrong--like me! Ho! ho! Den arter dey fix on de man, dey run at him and kick him, as you hab seen dem do, and spit on him, and trow mud ober him, tellin' him all de time, `You no king yet, you black rascal; you soon be king, and den you may put your foots on our necks and do w'at you like, but not yit; take dat, you tief!' An' so dey 'buse him for a littel time. Den dey take him straight away to de palace and crown him, an', oh! arter dat dey become very purlite to him. Him know dat well 'nuff, and so him not be angry just now. Ah! me did 'xpec, to hab bin kick and spitted on dis berry day!" Poor Neepeelootambo uttered the last words in such a deeply touching tone, and seemed to be so much cast down at the thought that his chance of being "kicked and spitted upon" had passed away for ever, that Phil Briant burst into a hearty fit of laughter, and Tim Rokens exhibited symptoms of internal risibility, though his outward physiognomy remained unchanged. "Och! Bumble, you'll be the death o' me," cried Briant. "An' are they a-crownin' of him now?" "Yis, massa. Dat what dey go for to do jist now." "Troth, then, I'll go an' inspict the coronation. Come along, Bumble, me darlint, and show us the way." In a few minutes Neepeelootambo conducted his new friends into a large rudely-constructed hut, which was open on three sides and thatched with palm-leaves. This was the palace before referred to by him. Here they found a large concourse of negroes, whose main object at that time seemed to be the creation of noise; for besides yelling and hooting, they beat a variety of native drums, some of which consisted of bits of board, and others of old tin and copper kettles. Forcing their way through the noisy throng they reached the inside of the hut, into which they found that Ailie Dunning and Glynn Proctor had pushed their way before them. Giving them a nod of recognition, they sat down on a mat by their side to watch the proceedings, which by this time were nearly concluded. The new king--who was about to fill the throne rendered vacant by the recent death of the old king of that region--was seated on an elevated stool looking very dignified, despite the rough ordeal through which he had just passed. When the noise above referred to had calmed down, an old grey-headed negro rose and made a speech in the language of the country, after which he advanced and crowned the new king, who had already been invested in a long scarlet coat covered with tarnished gold lace, and cut in the form peculiar to the last century. The crown consisted of an ordinary black silk hat, considerably the worse for wear. It looked familiar and commonplace enough in the eyes of their white visitors; but, being the only specimen of the article in the district, it was regarded by the negroes with peculiar admiration, and deemed worthy to decorate the brows of royalty. Having had this novel crown placed on the top of his woolly pate, which was much too large for it, the new king hit it an emphatic blow on the top, partly with a view to force it on, and partly, no doubt, with the design of impressing his new subjects with the fact that he was now their rightful sovereign, and that he meant thenceforth to exercise all the authority, and avail himself of all the privileges that his high position conferred on him. He then rose and made a pretty long speech, which was frequently applauded, and which terminated amid a most uproarious demonstration of loyalty on the part of the people. If you wish to gladden the heart of a black man, reader, get him into the midst of an appalling noise. The negro's delight is to shout, and laugh, and yell, and beat tin kettles with iron spoons. The greater the noise, the more he enjoys himself. Great guns and musketry, gongs and brass bands, kettledrums and smashing crockery, crashing railway-engines, blending their utmost whistles with the shrieks of a thousand pigs being killed, all going at once, full blast, and as near to him as possible, is a species of Elysium to the sable son of Africa. On their occasions of rejoicing, negroes procure and produce as much noise as is possible, so that the white visitors were soon glad to seek shelter, and find relief to their ears, on board ship. But even there the sounds of rejoicing reached them, and long after the curtain of night had enshrouded land and sea, the hideous din of royal festivities came swelling out with the soft warm breeze that fanned Ailie's cheek as she stood on the quarterdeck of the _Red Eric_, watching the wild antics of the naked savages as they danced round their bright fires, and holding her father's hand tightly as she related the day's adventures, and told of the monkeys, crocodiles, and other strange creatures she had seen in the mangrove-swamps and on the mud-banks of the slimy river. CHAPTER TEN. AN INLAND JOURNEY--SLEEPING IN THE WOODS--WILD BEASTS EVERYWHERE--SAD FATE OF A GAZELLE. The damage sustained by the _Red Eric_ during the storm was found to be more severe than was at first supposed. Part of her false keel had been torn away by a sunken rock, over which the vessel had passed, and scraped so lightly that no one on board was aware of the fact, yet with sufficient force to cause the damage to which we have referred. A slight leak was also discovered, and the injury to the top of the foremast was neither so easily nor so quickly repaired as had been anticipated. It thus happened that the vessel was detained on this part of the African coast for nearly a couple of weeks, during which time Ailie had frequent opportunities of going on shore, sometimes in charge of Glynn, sometimes with Tim Rokens, and occasionally with her father. During these little excursions the child lived in a world of romance. Not only were the animals, and plants, and objects of every kind with which she came in contact, entirely new to her, except in so far as she had made their acquaintance in pictures, but she invested everything in the roseate hue peculiar to her own romantic mind. True, she saw many things that caused her a good deal of pain, and she heard a few stories about the terrible cruelty of the negroes to each other, which made her shudder, but unpleasant thoughts did not dwell long on her mind; she soon forgot the little annoyances or frights she experienced, and revelled in the enjoyment of the beautiful sights and sweet perfumes which more than counterbalanced the bad odours and ugly things that came across her path. Ailie's mind was a very inquiring one, and often and long did she ponder the things she saw, and wonder why God made some so very ugly and some so very pretty, and to what use He intended them to be put. Of course, in such speculative inquiries, she was frequently very much puzzled, as also were the companions to whom she propounded the questions from time to time, but she had been trained to _believe_ that everything that was made by God was good, whether she understood it or not, and she noticed particularly, and made an involuntary memorandum of the fact in her own mind, that ugly things were very few in number, while beautiful objects were absolutely innumerable. The trader, who rendered good assistance to Captain Dunning in the repair of his ship, frequently overheard Ailie wishing "so much" that she might be allowed to go far into the wild woods, and one day suggested to the captain that, as the ship would have to remain a week or more in port, he would be glad to take a party an excursion up the river in his canoe, and show them a little of forest life, saying at the same time that the little girl might go too, for they were not likely to encounter any danger which might not be easily guarded against. At first the captain shook his head, remembering the stories that were afloat regarding the wild beasts of those regions. But, on second thoughts, he agreed to allow a well-armed party to accompany the trader; the more so that he was urged thereto very strongly by Dr Hopley, who, being a naturalist, was anxious to procure specimens of the creatures and plants in the interior, and being a phrenologist, was desirous of examining what Glynn termed the "bumpological developments of the negro skull." On still further considering the matter, Captain Dunning determined to leave the first mate in charge of the ship, head the exploring party himself, and take Ailie along with him. To say that Ailie was delighted, would be to understate the fact very much. She was wild with joy, and went about all the day, after her father's decision was announced, making every species of insane preparation for the canoe voyage, clasping her hands, and exclaiming, "Oh! _what_ fun!" while her bright eyes sparkled to such an extent that the sailors fairly laughed in her face when they looked at her. Preparations were soon made. The party consisted of the captain and his little child, Glynn Proctor (of course), Dr Hopley, Tim Rokens, Phil Briant, Jim Scroggles, the trader, and Neepeelootambo, which last had been by that time regularly domesticated on board, and was now known by the name of King Bumble, which name, being as good as his own, and more pronounceable, we shall adopt from this time forward. The very morning after the proposal was made, the above party embarked in the trader's canoe; and plying their paddles with the energy of men bent on what is vulgarly termed "going the whole hog," they quickly found themselves out of sight of their natural element, the ocean, and surrounded by the wild, rich, luxuriant vegetation of equatorial Africa. "Now," remarked Tim Rokens, as they ceased paddling, and ran the canoe under the shade of a broad palm-tree that overhung the river, in order to take a short rest and a smoke after a steady paddle of some miles--"Now this is wot I calls glorious, so it is! Ain't it? Pass the 'baccy this way." This double remark was made to King Bumble, who passed the tobacco-pouch to his friend, after helping himself, and admitted that it was "mugnifercent." "Here have I bin a-sittin' in this here canoe," continued Rokens, "for more nor two hours, an' to my sartin knowledge I've seed with my two eyes twelve sharks (for I counted 'em every one) at the mouth of the river, and two crocodiles, and the snout of a hopplepittimus; is that wot ye calls it?" Rokens addressed his question to the captain, but Phil Briant, who had just succeeded in getting his pipe to draw beautifully, answered instead. "Och! no," said he; "that's not the way to pronounce it at all, at all. It's a huppi-puppi-puttimus." "I dun know," said Rokens, shaking his head gravely; "it appears to me there's too many huppi puppies in that word." This debate caused Ailie infinite amusement, for she experienced considerable difficulty herself in pronouncing that name, and had a very truthful picture of the hippopotamus hanging at that moment in her room at home. "Isn't Tim Rokens very funny, papa?" she remarked in a whisper, looking up in her father's face. "Hush! my pet, and look yonder. There is something funnier, if I mistake not." He pointed, as he spoke, to a ripple in the water on the opposite side of the river, close under a bank which was clothed with rank, broad-leaved, and sedgy vegetation. In a few seconds a large crocodile put up its head, not farther off than twenty yards from the canoe, which apparently it did not see, and opening its tremendous jaws, afforded the travellers a splendid view of its teeth and throat. Briant afterwards asserted that he could see down its throat, and could _almost_ tell what it had had for dinner! "Plaze, sir, may I shoot him?" cried Briant, seizing his loaded musket, and looking towards the captain for permission. "It's of no use while in that position," remarked the trader, who regarded the hideous-looking monster with the calm unconcern of a man accustomed to such sights. "You may try;" said the captain with a grin. Almost before the words had left his lips, Phil took a rapid aim and fired. At the same identical moment the crocodile shut his jaws with a snap, as if he had an intuitive perception that something uneatable was coming. The bullet consequently hit his forehead, off which it glanced as if it had struck a plate of cast-iron. The reptile gave a wabble, expressive of lazy surprise, and sank slowly back into the slimy water. The shot startled more than one huge creature, for immediately afterwards they heard several flops in the water near them, but the tall sedges prevented their seeing what animals they were. A whole troop of monkeys, too, went shrieking away into the woods, showing that those nimble creatures had been watching all their movements, although, until that moment, they had taken good care to keep themselves out of sight. "Never fire at a crocodile's head," said the trader, as the party resumed their paddles, and continued their ascent of the stream; "you might as well fire at a stone wall. It's as hard as iron. The only place that's sure to kill it just behind the foreleg. The niggers always spear them there." "What do they spear them for?" asked Dr Hopley. "They eat 'em," replied the trader; "and the meat's not so bad after you get used to it." "Ha!" exclaimed Glynn Proctor; "I should fancy the great difficulty is to get used to it." "If you ever chance to go for a week without tasting fresh meat," replied the trader quietly, "you'll not find it so difficult as you think." That night the travellers encamped in the woods, and a wild charmingly romantic scene their night bivouac was--so thought Ailie, and so, too, would you have thought, reader, had you been there. King Bumble managed to kindle three enormous fires, for the triple purpose of keeping the party warm--for it was cold at night--of scaring away wild beasts, and of cooking their supper. These fires he fed at intervals during the whole night with huge logs, and the way in which he made the sparks fly up in among the strange big leaves of the tropical trees and parasitical plants overhead, was quite equal, if not superior, to a display of regular fireworks. Then Bumble and Glynn built a little platform of logs, on which they strewed leaves and grass, and over which they spread a curtain or canopy of broad leaves and boughs. This was Ailie's couch. It stood in the full blaze of the centre fire, and commanded a view of all that was going on in every part of the little camp; and when Ailie lay down on it after a good supper, and was covered up with a blanket, and further covered over with a sort of gauze netting to protect her from the mosquitoes, which were very numerous--when all this was done, we say, and when, in addition to this, she lay and witnessed the jovial laughter and enjoyment of His Majesty King Bumble, as he sat at the big fire smoking his pipe, and the supreme happiness of Phil Briant, and the placid joy of Tim Rokens, and the exuberant delight of Glynn, and the semi-scientific enjoyment of Dr Hopley as he examined a collection of rare plants; and the quiet comfort of the trader, and the awkward, shambling, loose-jointed pleasure of long Jim Scroggles; and the beaming felicity of her own dear father; who sat not far from her, and turned occasionally in the midst of the conversation to give her a nod--she felt in her heart that then and there she had fairly reached the very happiest moment in all her life. Ailie gazed in dreamy delight until she suddenly and unaccountably saw at least six fires, and fully half-a-dozen Bumbles, and eight or nine Glynns, and no end of fathers, and thousands of trees, and millions of sparks, all jumbled together in one vast complicated and magnificent pyrotechnic display; and then she fell asleep. It is a curious fact, and one for which it is not easy to account, that however happy you may be when you go to sleep out in the wild woods, you invariably awake in the morning in possession of a very small amount of happiness indeed. Probably it is because one in such circumstances is usually called upon to turn out before he has had enough sleep; perhaps it may be that the fires have burnt low or gone out altogether, and the gloom of a forest before sunrise is not calculated to elevate the spirits. Be this as it may, it is a fact that when Ailie was awakened on the following morning about daybreak, and told to get up, she felt sulky--positively and unmistakably sulky. We do not say that she looked sulky or acted sulkily--far from it; but she felt sulky, and that was a very uncomfortable state of things. We dwell a little on this point because we do not wish to mislead our young readers into the belief that life in the wild woods is _all_ delightful together. There are shadows as well as lights there--some of them, alas! so deep that we would not like even to refer to them while writing in a sportive vein. But it is also a fact, that when Ailie was fairly up and once more in the canoe, and when the sun began to flood the landscape with his golden light and turn the water into liquid fire, her temporary feelings of discomfort passed away, and her sensation of intense enjoyment returned. The scenery through which they passed on the second day was somewhat varied. They emerged early in the day upon the bosom of a large lake which looked almost like the ocean. Here there were immense flocks of water-fowl, and among them that strange, ungainly bird, the pelican. Here, too, there were actually hundreds of crocodiles. The lake was full of little mud islands, and on all of them these hideous and gigantic reptiles were seen basking lazily in the sun. Several shots were fired at them, but although the balls hit, they did not penetrate their thick hides, until at last one took effect in the soft part close behind the foreleg. The shot was fired by the trader, and it killed the animal instantly. It could not have been less than twenty feet long, but before they could secure it the carcass sank in deep water. "What a pity!" remarked Glynn, as the eddies circled round the spot where it had gone down. "Ah, so it is!" replied the doctor; "but he would have been rather large to preserve and carry home as a specimen." "I ax yer parding, sir," said Tim Rokens, addressing Dr Hopley; "but I'm curious to know if crocodiles has got phrenoligy?" "No doubt of it," replied the doctor, laughing. "Crocodiles have brains, and brains when exercised must be enlarged and developed, especially in the organs that are most used, hence corresponding development must take place in the skull." "I should think, doctor," remarked the captain, who was somewhat sceptical, "that their bumps of combativeness must be very large." "Probably they are," continued the doctor; "something like my friend Phil Briant here. I would venture to guess, now, that his organ of combativeness is well-developed--let me see." The doctor, who sat close beside the Irishman, caused him to pull in his paddle and submit his head for inspection. "Ah! then, don't operate on me, doctor dear! I've a mortial fear o' operations iver since me owld grandmother's pig got its foreleg took off at the hip-jint." "Hold your tongue, Paddy. Now the bump lies here--just under--eh! why, you haven't got so much as--what!" "Plaize, I think it's lost in fat, sur," remarked Briant, in a plaintive tone, as if he expected to be reprimanded for not having brought his bump of combativeness along with him. "Well," resumed the doctor, passing his fingers through Briant's matted locks, "I suppose you're not so combative as we had fancied--" "Thrue for you," interrupted Phil. "But, strange enough, I find your organ of veneration is very large, _very_ large indeed; singularly so for a man of your character; but I cannot feel it easily, you have such a quantity of hair." "Which is it, doctor dear?" inquired Phil. "This one I am pressing now." "Arrah! don't press so hard, plaze, it's hurtin' me ye are. Shure that's the place where I run me head slap up agin the spanker-boom four days ago. Av _that's_ me bump o' vineration, it wos three times as big an' twice as hard yisterday--it wos, indade." Interruptions in this world of uncertainty are not uncommon, and in the African wilds they are peculiarly frequent. The interruption which occurred on the present occasion to Dr Hopley's reply was, we need scarcely remark, exceedingly opportune. It came in the form of a hippopotamus, which rose so close to the boat that Ailie got a severe start, and Tim Rokens made a blow at its head with his paddle. It did not seem to notice the boat, but after blowing a quantity of water from its nostrils, and opening its horrible mouth as if it were yawning, it slowly sank again into the flood. "Wot an 'orrible crittur!" exclaimed Jim Scroggles, in amazement at the sight. "The howdacious willain!" remarked Rokens. "Is that another on ahead?" said Glynn, pointing to an object floating on the water about a hundred yards up the river: for they had passed the lake, and were now ascending another stream. "D'ye see it, Ailie? Look!" The object sank as he spoke, and Ailie looked round just in time to see the tail of a crocodile flop the water and follow its owner to the depths below. "Oh! oh!" exclaimed Ailie, with one of those peculiar intonations that told Glynn she saw something very beautiful, and that induced the remainder of the crew to rest on their paddles, and turn their eyes in the direction indicated. They did not require to ask what she saw, for the child's finger directed their eyes to a spot on the bank of the river, where, under the shadow of a spreading bush with gigantic leaves, stood a lovely little gazelle. The graceful creature had trotted down to the stream to drink, and did not observe the canoe, which had been on the point of rounding a bank that jutted out into the river where its progress was checked. The gazelle paused a moment, looked round to satisfy itself that no enemy was near, and then put its lips to the water. Alas! for the timid little thing! There were enemies near it and round it in all directions. There were leopards and serpents of the largest size in the woods, and man upon the river--although on this occasion it chanced that most of the men who gazed in admiration at its pretty form were friends. But its worst enemy, a crocodile, was lurking close under the mud-bank at its feet. Scarcely had its parched lips reached the stream when a black snout darted from the water, and the next instant the gazelle was struggling in the crocodile's jaws. A cry of horror burst from the men in the boat, and every man seized a musket; but before an aim could be taken the struggle was over; the monster had dived with its prey, and nothing but a few streaks of red foam floated on the troubled water. Ailie did not move. She stood with her hands tightly clasped and her eyes starting almost out of their sockets. At last her feelings found vent. She threw her arms round her father's neck, and burying her face in his bosom, burst into a passionate flood of tears. CHAPTER ELEVEN. NATIVE DOINGS, AND A CRUEL MURDER--JIM SCROGGLES SEES WONDERS, AND HAS A TERRIBLE ADVENTURE. It took two whole days and nights to restore Ailie to her wonted cheerful state of mind, after she had witnessed the death of the gazelle. But although she sang and laughed, and enjoyed herself as much as ever, she experienced the presence of a new and strange feeling, that ever after that day, tinged her thoughts and influenced her words and actions. The child had for the first time in her life experienced one of those rude shocks--one of those rough contacts with the stern realities of life which tend to deepen and intensify our feelings. The mind does not always grow by slow, imperceptible degrees, although it usually does so. There are periods in the career of every one when the mind takes, as it were, a sharp run and makes a sudden and stupendous jump out of one region of thought into another in which there are things new as well as old. The present was such an occasion to little Ailie Dunning. She had indeed seen bloody work before, in the cutting-up of a whale. But although she had been told it often enough, she did not _realise_ that whales have feelings and affections like other creatures. Besides, she had not witnessed the actual killing of the whale; and if she had, it would probably have made little impression on her beyond that of temporary excitement--not even that, perhaps, had her father been by her side. But she _sympathised_ with the gazelle. It was small, and beautiful, and lovable. Her heart had swelled the moment she saw it, and she had felt a longing desire to run up to it and throw her arms round its soft neck, so that, when she saw it suddenly struggling and crushed in the tremendous jaws of the horrible crocodile, every tender feeling in her breast was lacerated; every fibre of her heart trembled with a conflicting gush of the tenderest pity and the fiercest rage. From that day forward new thoughts began to occupy her mind, and old ideas presented themselves in different aspects. We would not have the reader suppose, for a moment, that Ailie became an utterly changed creature. To an unobservant eye--such as that of Jim Scroggles, for instance--she was the same in all respects a few days after as she had been a few hours before the event. But new elements had been implanted in her breast, or rather, seeds which had hitherto lain dormant were now caused to burst forth into plants by the All-wise Author of her being. She now _felt_ for the first time--she could not tell why--that enjoyment was _not_ the chief good in life. Of course she did not argue or think out all this clearly and methodically to herself. Her mind, on most things, material as well as immaterial, was very much what may be termed a jumble; but undoubtedly the above processes of reasoning and feeling, or something like them, were the result to Ailie of the violent death of that little gazelle. The very next day after this sad event the travellers came to a native village, at which they stayed a night, in order to rest and procure fresh provisions. The trader was well-known at this village, but the natives, all of whom were black, of course, and nearly naked, had never seen a little white girl before, so that their interest in and wonder at Ailie were quite amusing to witness. They crowded round her, laughing and exclaiming and gesticulating in a most remarkable manner, and taking special notice of her light-brown glossy hair, which seemed to fill them with unbounded astonishment and admiration; as well it might, for they had never before seen any other hair except the coarse curly wool on their own pates, and the long lank hair of the trader, which happened to be coarse and black. The child was at first annoyed by the attentions paid her, but at last she became interested in the sooty little naked children that thronged round her, and allowed them to handle her as much as they pleased, until her father led her to the residence of the chief or king of the tribe. Here she was well treated, and she began quite to like the people who were so kind to her and her friends. But she chanced to overhear a conversation between the doctor and Tim Rokens, which caused her afterwards to shrink from the negroes with horror. She was sitting on a bank picking wild-flowers some hours after the arrival of her party, and teaching several black children how to make necklaces of them, when the doctor and Rokens happened to sit down together at the other side of a bush which concealed her from their view. Tim was evidently excited, for the tones of his voice were loud and emphatic. "Yes," he said, in reply to some questions put to him by the doctor; "yes, I seed 'em do it, not ten minutes agone, with my own two eyes. Oh! but I would like to have 'em up in a row--every black villain in the place--an' a cutlass in my hand, an'--an' wouldn't I whip off their heads? No, I wouldn't; oh, no, by no means wotiver." There was something unusually fierce in Rokens' voice that alarmed Ailie. "I was jist takin' a turn," continued the sailor, "down by the creek yonder, when I heerd a great yellin' goin' on, and saw the trader in the middle of a crowd o' black fellows, a-shakin' his fists; so I made sail, of course, to lend a hand if he'd got into trouble. He was scoldin' away in the native lingo, as if he'd bin a born nigger. "`Wot's all to do?' says I. "`They're goin' to kill a little boy,' says he, quite fierce like, `'cause they took it into their heads he's bewitched.' "An' sayin' that, he sot to agin in the other lingo, but the king came up an' told him that the boy had to be killed 'cause he had a devil in him, and had gone and betwitched a number o' other people; an' before he had done speakin', up comes two fellers, draggin' the poor little boy between them. The king axed him if he wos betwitched, and the little chap--from sheer fright, I do believe--said he wos. Of coorse I couldn't understand 'em, but the trader explained it all arter. Well, no sooner had he said that, than they all gave a yell, and rushed upon the poor boy with their knives, and cut him to pieces. It's as sure as I'm sittin' here," cried Rokens, savagely, as his wrath rose again at the bare recital of the terrible deed he had witnessed. "I would ha' knocked out the king's brains there and then, but the trader caught my hand, and said, in a great fright, that if I did, it would not only cost me my life, but likely the whole party; so that cooled me, and I come away; an' I'm goin' to ax the captin wot we shud do." "We can do nothing," said the doctor sadly. "Even suppose we were strong enough to punish them, what good would it do? We can't change their natures. They are superstitious, and are firmly persuaded they did right in killing that poor boy." The doctor pondered for a few seconds, and then added, in a low voice, as if he were weighing the meaning of what he said: "Clergymen would tell us that nothing can deliver them from this bondage save a knowledge of the true God and of His Son Jesus Christ; that the Bible might be the means of curing them, if Bibles were only sent, and ministers to preach the gospel." "Then why ain't Bibles sent to 'em at once?" asked Rokens, in a tone of great indignation, supposing that the doctor was expressing his own opinion on the subject. "Is there nobody to look arter these matters in Christian lands?" "Oh, yes, there are many Bible Societies, and both Bibles and missionaries have been sent to this country; but it's a large one, and the societies tell us their funds are limited." "Then why don't they git more funds?" continued Rokens, in the same indignant tone, as his mind still dwelt upon the miseries and wickedness that he had seen, and that _might_ be prevented; "why don't they git more funds, and send out heaps o' Bibles, an' no end o' missionaries?" "Tim Rokens," said the doctor, looking earnestly into his companion's face, "if I were one of the missionaries, I might ask you how much money _you_ ever gave to enable societies to send Bibles and missionaries to foreign lands?" Tim Rokens was for once in his life completely taken aback. He was by nature a stolid man, and not easily put out. He was a shrewd man, too, and did not often commit himself. When he did, he was wont to laugh at himself, and so neutralise the laugh raised against him. But here was a question that was too serious for laughter, and yet one which he could not answer without being self-condemned. He looked gravely in the doctor's face for two minutes without speaking; then he heaved a deep sigh, and said slowly, and with a pause between each word-- "Doctor Hopley--I--never--gave--a--rap--in--all--my--life." "So then, my man," said the doctor, smiling, "you're scarcely entitled to be indignant with others." "Wot you remark, doctor, is true; I--am--not." Having thus fully and emphatically condemned himself, and along with himself all mankind who are in a similar category, Tim Rokens relapsed into silence, deliberately drew forth his pipe, filled it, lit it, and began to smoke. None of the party of travellers slept well that night, except perhaps the trader, who was accustomed to the ways of the negroes, and King Bumble, who had been born and bred in the midst of cruelties. Most of them dreamed of savage orgies, and massacres of innocent children, so that when daybreak summoned them to resume their journey, they arose and embarked with alacrity, glad to get away from the spot. During that day and the next they saw a great number of crocodiles and hippopotami, besides strange birds and plants innumerable. The doctor filled his botanical-box to bursting. Ailie filled her flower-basket to overflowing. Glynn hit a crocodile on the back with a bullet, and received a lazy stare from the ugly creature in return, as it waddled slowly down the bank on which it had been lying, and plumped into the river. The captain assisted Ailie to pluck flowers when they landed, which they did from time to time, and helped to arrange and pack them when they returned to the canoe. Tim Rokens did nothing particularly worthy of record; but he gave utterance to an immense number of sententious and wise remarks, which were listened to by Bumble with deep respect, for that sable gentleman had taken a great fancy for the bold harpooner, and treasured up all his sayings in his heart. Phil Briant distinguished himself by shooting an immense serpent, which the doctor, who cut off and retained its head, pronounced to be an anaconda. It was full twenty feet long; and part of the body was cut up, roasted, and eaten by Bumble and the trader, though the others turned from it with loathing. "It be more cleaner dan one pig, anyhow," remarked Bumble, on observing the disgust of his white friends; "an' you no objic' to eat dat." "Clainer than a pig, ye spalpeen!" cried Phil Briant; "that only shows yer benighted haithen ignerance. Sure I lived in the same cabin wid a pig for many a year--not not to mintion a large family o' cocks and hens--an' a clainer baste than that pig didn't stop in that cabin." "That doesn't say much for your own cleanliness, or that of your family," remarked Glynn. "Och! ye've bin to school, no doubt, haven't ye?" retorted Phil. "I have," replied Glynn. "Shure I thought so. It's there ye must have larned to be so oncommon cliver. Don't you iver be persuaded for to go to school, Bumble, if ye iver git the chance. It's a mighty lot o' taichin' they'd give ye, but niver a taste o' edication. Tin to wan, they'd cram ye till ye turned white i' the face, an' that wouldn't suit yer complexion, ye know, King Bumble, be no manes." As for the trader, he acted interpreter when the party fell in with negroes, and explained everything that puzzled them, and told them anecdotes without end about the natives and the wild creatures, and the traffic of the regions through which they passed. In short, he made himself generally useful and agreeable. But the man who distinguished himself most on that trip was Jim Scroggles. That lanky individual one day took it into his wise head to go off on a short ramble into the woods alone. He had been warned by the trader, along with the rest of the party, not to venture on such a dangerous thing; but being an absent man the warning had not reached his intellect although it had fallen on his ear. The party were on shore cooking dinner when he went off, without arms of any kind, and without telling whither he was bound. Indeed, he had no defined intentions in his own mind. He merely felt inclined for a ramble, and so went away, intending to be back in half-an-hour or less. But Jim Scroggles had long legs and loved locomotion. Moreover, the woods were exceedingly beautiful and fragrant, and comparatively cool: for it happened to be the coolest season of the year in that sultry region, else the party of Europeans could not have ventured to travel there at all. Wandering along beneath the shade of palm-trees and large-leaved shrubs and other tropical productions, with his hands in his breeches pockets, and whistling a variety of popular airs, which must have not a little astonished the monkeys and birds and other creatures--such of them, at least, as had any taste for or knowledge of music--Jim Scroggles penetrated much farther into the wilds than he had any intention of doing. There is no saying how far, in his absence of mind, he might have wandered, had he not been caught and very uncomfortably entangled in a mesh-work of wild vines and thorny plants that barred his further progress. Jim had encountered several such before in his walk, but had forced his way through without more serious damage than a rent or two in his shirt and pantaloons, and several severe scratches to his hands and face; but Scroggles had lived a hard life from infancy, and did not mind scratches. Now, however, he could not advance a step, and it was only by much patient labour and by the free use of his clasp-knife, that he succeeded at length in releasing himself. He left a large portion of one of the legs of his trousers and several bits of skin on the bushes, as a memorial of his visit to that spot. Jim's mind was awoken to the perception of three facts--namely, that he had made himself late for dinner; that he would be the means of detaining his party; and that he had lost himself. Here was a pretty business! Being a man of slow thought and much deliberation, he sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree, and looking up, as men usually do when soliloquising, exclaimed-- "My eye, here's a go! Wot is to be done?" A very small monkey, with an uncommonly wrinkled and melancholy cast of visage, which chanced to be seated on a branch hard by, peering down at the lost mariner, replied-- "O! o-o-o, O! o-o!" as much as to say, "Ah, my boy, that's just the question." Jim Scroggles shook his head, partly as a rebuke to the impertinent little monkey and partly as an indication of the hopelessness of his being able to return a satisfactory answer to his own question. At last he started up, exclaiming, "Wotever comes on it, there's no use o' sitting here," and walked straight forward at a brisk pace. Then he suddenly stopped, shook his head again, and said, "If I goes on like this, an' it shud turn out to be the wrong course arter all--wot'll come on't?" Being as unable to answer this question as the former, he thrust both hands into his pockets, looked at the ground and began to whistle. When he looked up again he ceased whistling very abruptly, and turned deadly pale--perhaps we should say yellow. And no wonder, for there, straight before him, not more than twenty yards off, stood a creature which, to his ignorant eyes, appeared to be a fiend incarnate, but which was in reality a large-sized and very ancient sheego monkey. It stood in an upright position like a man, and was above four feet high. It had a bald head, grey whiskers, and an intensely black wrinkled face, and, at the moment Jim Scroggles' eyes encountered it, that face was working itself into such a variety of remarkable and hideous contortions that no description, however graphic, could convey a correct notion of it to the reader's mind. Seen behind the bars of an iron cage it might, perhaps, have been laughable; but witnessed as it was, in the depths of a lonely forest, it was appalling. Jim Scroggles' knees began to shake. He was fascinated with horror. The huge ape was equally fascinated with terror. It worked its wrinkled visage more violently than ever. Jim trembled all over. In another second the sheego displayed not only all its teeth--and they were tremendous--but all its gums, and they were fearful to behold, besides being scarlet. Roused to the utmost pitch of fear, the sheego uttered a shriek that rang through the forest like a death-yell. This was the culminating point. Jim Scroggles turned and fled as fast as his long and trembling legs could carry him. The sheego, at the same instant, was smitten with an identically similar impulse. It turned, uttered another yell, and fled in the opposite direction; and thus the two ran until they were both out of breath. What became of the monkey we cannot tell; but Jim Scroggles ran at headlong speed straight before him, crashing through brake and bush, in the full belief that the sheego was in hot pursuit, until he came to a mangrove swamp; here his speed was checked somewhat, for the trees grew in a curious fashion that merits special notice. Instead of rising out of the ground, the mangroves rose out of a sea of mud, and the roots stood up in a somewhat arched form, supporting their stem, as it were, on the top of a bridge. Thus, had the ground beneath been solid, a man might have walked _under_ the roots. In order to cross the swamp, Jim Scroggles had to leap from root to root--a feat which, although difficult, he would have attempted without hesitation. But Jim was agitated at that particular moment. His step was uncertain at a time when the utmost coolness was necessary. At one point the leap from one root to the next was too great for him. He turned his eye quickly to one side to seek a nearer stem; in doing so he encountered the gaze of a serpent. It was not a large one, probably about ten feet long, but he knew it to be one whose bite was deadly. In the surprise and fear of the moment he took the long leap, came short of the root by about six inches, and alighted up to the waist in the soft mud. Almost involuntarily he cast his eyes behind him, and saw neither sheego nor serpent. He breathed more freely, and essayed to extricate himself from his unpleasant position. Stretching out his hands to the root above his head, he found that it was beyond his reach. The sudden fear that this produced caused him to make a violent struggle, and in his next effort he succeeded in catching a twig; it supported him, for a moment, then broke, and he fell back again into the mud. Each successive struggle only sank him deeper. As the thick adhesive semi-liquid clung to his lower limbs and rose slowly on his chest, the wretched man uttered a loud cry of despair. He felt that he was brought suddenly face to face with death in its most awful form. The mud was soon up to his arm-pits. As the hopelessness of his condition forced itself upon him, he began to shout for help until the dark woods resounded with his cries; but no help came, and the cold drops of sweat stood upon his brow as he shrieked aloud in agony, and prayed for mercy. CHAPTER TWELVE. JIM SCROGGLES RESCUED, AND GLYNN AND AILIE LOST--A CAPTURE, UPSET, CHASE, ESCAPE, AND HAPPY RETURN. The merciful manner in which God sends deliverance at the eleventh hour has been so often experienced and recognised, that it has originated the well-known proverb, "Man's extremity is God's opportunity;" and this proverb is true not only in reference to man's soul, but often, also, in regard to his temporal affairs. While the wretched sailor was uttering cries for help, which grew feebler every moment as he sank deeper and deeper into what now he believed should be his grave, his comrades were hastening forward to his rescue. Alarmed at his prolonged absence, they had armed themselves, and set out in search of him, headed by the trader and led by the negro, who tracked his steps with that unerring certainty which seems peculiar to all savages. The shrieks uttered by their poor comrade soon reached their ears, and after some little difficulty, owing to the cries becoming faint, and at last inaudible, they discovered the swamp where he lay, and revived his hope and energy by their shouts. They found him nearly up to the neck in mud, and the little of him that still remained above ground was scarcely recognisable. It cost them nearly an hour, with the aid of poles, and ropes extemporised out of their garments, to drag Jim from his perilous position and place him on solid ground; and after they had accomplished this, it took more than an hour longer to clean him and get him recruited sufficiently to accompany them to the spot where they had left the canoe. The poor man was deeply moved; and when he fully realised the fact that he was saved, he wept like a child, and then thanked God fervently for his deliverance. As the night was approaching, and the canoe, with Ailie in it, had been left in charge only of Glynn Proctor, Jim's recovery was expedited as much as possible, and as soon as he could walk they turned to retrace their steps. Man knows not what a day or an hour will bring forth. For many years one may be permitted to move on "the even tenor of his way," without anything of momentous import occurring to mark the passage of his little span of time as it sweeps him onward to eternity. At another period of life, events, it may be of the most startling and abidingly impressive nature, are crowded into a few months or weeks, or even days. So it was now with our travellers on the African river. When they reached the spot where they had dined, no one replied to their shouts. The canoe, Glynn, and the child were gone. On making this terrible discovery the whole party were filled with indescribable consternation, and ran wildly hither and thither, up and down the banks of the river, shouting the names of Glynn Proctor and Ailie, until the woods rang again. Captain Dunning was almost mad with anxiety and horror. His imagination pictured his child in every conceivable danger. He thought of her as drowned in the river and devoured by crocodiles; as carried away by the natives into hopeless captivity; or, perhaps, killed by wild beasts in the forest. When several hours had elapsed, and still no sign of the missing ones could be discovered, he fell down exhausted on the river's bank, and groaned aloud in his despair. But Ailie was not lost. The Heavenly Father in whom she trusted still watched over and cared for her, and Glynn Proctor's stout right arm was still by her side to protect her. About half-an-hour after the party had gone off in search of their lost companion, a large canoe, full of negroes, came sweeping down the river. Glynn and Ailie hid themselves in the bushes, and lay perfectly still, hoping they might be passed by. But they forgot that the blue smoke of their fire curled up through the foliage and revealed their presence at once. On observing the smoke, the savages gave a shout, and, running their canoe close in to the bank, leaped ashore and began to scamper through the wood like baboons. Only a few minutes passed before they discovered the two hiders, whom they surrounded and gazed upon in the utmost possible amazement, shouting the while with delight, as if they had discovered a couple of new species of monkey. Glynn was by nature a reckless and hasty youth. He felt the power of a young giant within him, and his first impulse was to leap upon the newcomers, and knock them down right and left. Fortunately, for Ailie's sake as well as his own, he had wisdom enough to know that though he had possessed the power of ten giants, he could not hope, singly, to overcome twenty negroes, all of whom were strong, active, and lithe as panthers. He therefore assumed a good-humoured free-and-easy air, and allowed himself and Ailie to be looked at and handled without ceremony. The savages were evidently not ill-disposed towards the wanderers. They laughed a great deal, and spoke to each other rapidly in what, to Glynn, was of course an unknown tongue. One who appeared to be the chief of the party passed his long black fingers through Ailie's glossy curls with evident surprise and delight. He then advanced to Glynn, and said something like-- "Holli--boobo--gaddle--bump--um--peepi--daddle--dumps." To which Glynn replied very naturally, "I don't understand you." Of course he did not. And he might have known well enough that the negro could not understand _him_. But he deemed it wiser to make a reply of some kind, however unintelligible, than to stand like a post and say nothing. Again the negro spoke, and again Glynn made the same reply; whereupon the black fellow turned round to his comrades and looked at them, and they, in reply to the look, burst again into an immoderate fit of laughter, and cut a variety of capers, the very simplest of which would have made the fortune of any merry-andrew in the civilised world, had he been able to execute it. This was all very well, no doubt, and exceedingly amusing, not to say surprising; but it became quite a different matter when, after satisfying their curiosity, these dark gentlemen coolly collected the property of the white men, stowed it away in the small canoe, and made signs to Glynn and Ailie to enter. Glynn showed a decided objection to obey, on which two stout fellows seized him by the shoulders, and pointed sternly to the canoe, as much as to say, "Hobbi-doddle-hoogum-toly-whack," which, being interpreted (no doubt) meant, "If you don't go quietly, we'll force you." Again the young sailor's spirit leaped up. He clenched his fists, his brow flushed crimson, and, in another instant, whatever might have been the consequence, the two negroes would certainly have lain recumbent on the sward, had it not suddenly occurred to Glynn that he might, by appearing to submit, win the confidence of his captors, and, at the first night-encampment, quietly make his escape with Ailie in his arms! Glynn was at that romantic age when young men have a tendency to think themselves capable of doing almost anything, with or without ordinary facilities, and in the face of any amount of adverse circumstance. He therefore stepped willingly and even cheerfully into the canoe, in which his and his comrades' baggage had been already stowed, and, seating himself in the stern, took up the steering-paddle. He was ordered to quit that post, however, in favour of a powerful negro, and made to sit in the bow and paddle there. Ailie was placed with great care in the centre of the canoe among a heap of soft leopard-skins; for the savages evidently regarded her as something worth preserving--a rare and beautiful specimen, perhaps, of the white monkey! This done, they leaped into their large canoe, and, attaching the smaller one to it by means of a rope, paddled out from the bank, and descended the stream. "Oh! Glynn," exclaimed Ailie, in a whisper--for she felt that things were beginning to look serious--"what _are_ we to do?" "Indeed, my pet, I don't know," replied Glynn, looking round and encountering the gaze of the negro in the stern, at whom he frowned darkly, and received a savage grin by way of reply. "I would like _so_ much to say something to you," continued Ailie, "but I'm afraid _he_ will know what I say." "Never fear, Ailie; he's as deaf as a post to our language. Out with it." "Could you not," she said, in a half-whisper, "cut the rope, and then paddle away back while _they_ are paddling down the river?" Glynn laughed in spite of himself at this proposal. "And what, my pretty one," he said, "what should we do with the fellow in the stern? Besides, the rascals in front might take it into their heads to paddle after us, you know, and what then?" "I'm sure I don't know," said Ailie, beginning to cry. "Now, don't cry, my darling," said Glynn, looking over his shoulder with much concern. "I'll manage to get you out of this scrape somehow--now see if I don't." The youth spoke so confidently, that the child felt somehow comforted, so drying her eyes she lay back among the leopard-skins, where, giving vent to an occasional sob, she speedily fell fast asleep. They continued to advance thus in silence for nearly an hour, crossed a small lake, and again entered the river. After descending this some time, the attention of the whole party was attracted to a group of hippopotami, gambolling in the mud-banks and in the river a short distance ahead. At any other time Glynn would have been interested in the sight of these uncouth monsters, but he had seen so many within the last few days that he was becoming comparatively indifferent to them, and at that moment he was too much filled with anxiety to take any notice of them. The creatures themselves, however, did not seem to be so utterly indifferent to the strangers. They continued their gambols until the canoes were quite near, and then they dived. Now, hippopotami, as we have before hinted, are clumsy and stupid creatures, so much so that they occasionally run against and upset boats and canoes, quite unintentionally. Knowing this, the natives in the large canoe kept a sharp look-out in order to steer clear of them. They had almost succeeded in passing the place, when a huge fellow, like a sugar-punchean, rose close to the small canoe, and grazed it with his tail. Apparently he considered this an attack made upon him by the boat, for he wheeled round in a rage, and swam violently towards it. The negro and Glynn sprang to their feet on the instant, and the former raised his paddle to deal the creature a blow on the head. Before he could do so, Glynn leaped lightly over Ailie, who had just awakened, caught the savage by the ankles, and tossed him overboard. He fell with a heavy splash just in front of the cavernous jaws of the hippopotamus! In fact, he had narrowly escaped falling head-first into the creature's open throat. The nearness of the animal at the time was probably the means of saving the negro's life, for it did not observe where he had vanished to, as he sank under its chin, and was pushed by its forelegs right under its body. In its effort to lay hold of the negro, the hippopotamus made a partial dive, and thus passed the small canoe. When it again rose to the surface the large canoe met its eye. At this it rushed, drove its hammer-like skull through the light material of which it was made, and then seizing the broken ends in its strong jaws upset the canoe, and began to rend it to pieces in its fury. Before this occurred, the crew had leaped into the water, and were now swimming madly to the shore. At the same moment Glynn cut the line that fastened the two canoes together, and seizing his paddle, urged his craft up the river as fast as possible. But his single arm could not drive it with much speed against the stream, and before he had advanced a dozen yards, one of the natives overtook him and several more followed close behind. Glynn allowed the first one to come near, and then gave him a tremendous blow on the head with the edge of the paddle. The young sailor was not in a gentle frame of mind at that time, by any means. The blow was given with a will, and would probably have fractured the skull of a white man; but that of a negro is proverbially thick. The fellow was only stunned, and fell back among his comrades, who judiciously considering that such treatment was not agreeable and ought not to be courted, put about, and made for the shore. Glynn now kept his canoe well over to the left side of the stream while the savages ran along the right bank, yelling ferociously and occasionally attempting to swim towards him, but without success. He was somewhat relieved, and sent them a shout of defiance, which was returned, of course with interest. Still he felt that his chance of escape was poor. He was becoming exhausted by the constant and violent exertion that was necessary in order to make head against the stream. The savages knew this, and bided their time. As he continued to labour slowly up, Glynn came to the mouth of a small stream which joined the river. He knew not where it might lead to, but feeling that he could not hold out much longer, he turned into it, without any very definite idea as to what he would attempt next. The stream was sluggish. He advanced more easily, and after a few strokes of the paddle doubled round a point and was hid from the eyes of the negroes, who immediately set up a yell and plunged into the river, intending to swim over; but fortunately it was much too rapid in the middle, and they were compelled to return. We say fortunately, because, had they succeeded in crossing, they would have found Glynn in the bushes of the point behind which he had disappeared, in a very exhausted state, though prepared to fight to the last with all the energy of despair. As it was, he had the extreme satisfaction of seeing his enemies, after regaining the right bank, set off at a quick run down the river. He now remembered having seen a place about two miles further down that looked like a ford, and he at once concluded his pursuers had set off to that point, and would speedily return and easily recapture him in the narrow little stream into which he had pushed. To cross the large river was impossible--the canoe would have been swamped in the rapid. But what was to hinder him from paddling close in along the side, and perhaps reach the lake while the negroes were looking for him up the small stream? He put this plan into execution at once; and Ailie took a paddle in her small hands and did her utmost to help him. It wasn't much, poor thing; but to hear the way in which Glynn encouraged her and spoke of her efforts, one would have supposed she had been as useful as a full-grown man! After a couple of hours' hard work, they emerged upon the lake, and here Glynn felt that he was pretty safe, because, in the still water, no man could swim nearly as fast as he could paddle. Besides, it was now getting dark, so he pushed out towards a rocky islet on which there were only a few small bushes, resolved to take a short rest there, and then continue his flight under cover of the darkness. While Glynn carried ashore some biscuit, which was the only thing in the boat they could eat without cooking, Ailie broke off some branches from the low bushes that covered the little rocky islet, and spread them out on a flat rock for a couch; this done, she stood on the top of a large stone and gazed round upon the calm surface of the beautiful lake, in the dark depths of which the stars twinkled as if there were another sky down there. "Now, Ailie," said Glynn, "come along and have supper. It's not a very tempting one, but we must content ourselves with hard fare and a hard bed to-night, as I dare not light a fire lest the negroes should observe it and catch us." "I'm sorry for that," replied the child; "for a fire is _so_ nice and cheery; and it helps to keep off the wild beasts, too, doesn't it?" "Well, it does; but there are no wild beasts on such a small rock as this, and the sides are luckily too steep for crocodiles to crawl up." "Shall we sleep here till morning?" asked Ailie, munching her hard biscuit and drinking her tin pannikinful of cold water with great relish, for she was very hungry. "Oh, no!" replied Glynn. "We must be up and away in an hour at farthest. So, as I see you're about done with your luxurious supper, I propose that you lie down to rest." Ailie was only too glad to accede to this proposal. She lay down on the branches, and after Glynn had covered her with a blanket, he stretched himself on a leopard-skin beside her, and both of them fell asleep in five minutes. The mosquitoes were very savage that night, but the sleepers were too much fatigued to mind their vicious attacks. Glynn slept two hours, and then he wakened with a start, as most persons do when they have arranged, before going to sleep, to rise at a certain hour. He rose softly, carried the provisions back to the canoe, and in his sleepy condition almost stepped upon the head of a huge crocodile, which, ignorant of their presence, had landed its head on the islet in order to have a snooze. Then he roused Ailie, and led her, more than half asleep, down to the beach, and lifted her into the canoe, after which he pushed off, and paddled briskly over the still waters of the star-lit lake. Ailie merely yawned during all these proceedings; said, "Dear me! is it time to--yeaow! oh, I'm _so_ sleepy;" mumbled something about papa wondering what had become of Jim Scroggles, and about her being convinced that--"yeaow!--the ship must have lost itself among the whales and monkeys;" and then, dropping her head on the leopard-skins with a deep sigh of comfort, she returned to the land of Nod. Glynn Proctor worked so well that it was still early in the morning and quite dark when he arrived at the encampment where they had been made prisoners. His heart beat audibly as he approached the dark landing-place, and observed no sign of his comrades. The moment the bow of the canoe touched the shore, he sprang over the side, and, without disturbing the little sleeper, drew it gently up the bank, and fastened the bow-rope to a tree; then he hurried to the spot where they had slept and found all the fires out except one, of which a few dull embers still remained; but no comrade was visible. It is a felicitous arrangement of our organs of sense, that where one organ fails to convey to our inward man information regarding the outward world, another often steps in to supply its place, and perform the needful duty. We have said that Glynn Proctor saw nothing of his comrades,--although he gazed earnestly all round the camp--for the very good reason that it was almost pitch-dark; but although his eyes were useless, his ears were uncommonly acute, and through their instrumentality he became cognisant of a sound. It might have been distant thunder, but was too continuous and regular for that. It might have been the distant rumbling of heavy wagons or artillery over a paved road; but there were neither wagons nor roads in those African wilds. It might have been the prolonged choking of an alligator--it might, in fact, have been _anything_ in a region like that, where _everything_, almost, was curious, and new, and strange, and wild, and unaccountable; and the listener was beginning to entertain the most uncomfortable ideas of what it probably was, when a gasp and a peculiar snort apprised him that it was a human snore!--at least, if not a human snore, it was that of some living creature which indulged to a very extravagant degree in that curious and altogether objectionable practice. Stepping cautiously forward on tip-toe, Glynn searched among the leaves all round the fire, following the direction of the sounds, but nothing was to be found; and he experienced a slight feeling of supernatural dread creeping over him, when a peculiarly loud metallic snore sounded clear above his head. Looking up, he beheld by the dull red light of the almost extinct fire, the form of Phil Briant, half-seated, half-reclining, on the branch of a tree not ten feet from the ground, and clasping another branch tightly with both arms. At that moment, Ailie, who had awakened, ran up, and caught Glynn by the hand. "Hallo! Briant!" exclaimed Glynn. A very loud snore was the reply. "Briant! Phil Briant, I say; hallo! Phil!" shouted Glynn. "Arrah! howld yer noise will ye," muttered the still sleeping man--"sno--o--o--o--re!" "A fall! a fall!--all hands ahoy! tumble up there, tumble up!" shouted Glynn, in the nautical tones which he well knew would have their effect upon his comrade. He was right. They had more than their usual effect on him. The instant he heard them, Phil Briant shouted--"Ay, ay, sir!" and, throwing his legs over the side of what he supposed to be his hammock, he came down bodily on what he supposed to be the deck with a whack that caused him to utter an involuntary but tremendous howl. "Oh! och! oh! murther! oh whirra!" he cried, as he lay half-stunned. "Oh, it's kilt I am entirely--dead as mutton at last, an' no mistake. Sure I might have knowd it--och! worse luck! Didn't yer poor owld mother tell ye, Phil, that ye'd come to a bad end--she did--" "Are ye badly hurt?" said Glynn, stooping over his friend in real alarm. At the sound of his voice Briant ceased his wails, rose into a sitting posture, shaded his eyes with his hand (a most unnecessary proceeding under the circumstances), and stared at him. "It's me, Phil; all right, and Ailie. We've escaped, and got safe back again." "It's jokin' ye are," said Briant, with the imbecile smile of a man who only half believes what he actually sees. "I'm draimin', that's it. Go away, avic, an' don't be botherin' me." "It's quite true, though, I assure you, my boy. I've managed to give the niggers the slip; and here's Ailie, too, all safe, and ready to convince you of the fact." Phil Briant looked at one and then at the other in unbounded amazement for a few seconds, after which he gave a short laugh as if of pity for his own weakness, and his face assumed a mild aspect as he said softly, "It's all a draim, av coorse it is!" He even turned away his eyes for a moment in order to give the vision time to dissipate. But on looking round again, there it was, as palpable as ever. Faith in the fidelity of his own eyesight returned in a moment, and Phil Briant, forgetting his bodily pains, sprang to his feet with a roar of joy, seized Ailie in his arms and kissed her, embraced Glynn Proctor with a squeeze like that of a loving bear, and then began to dance an Irish jig, quite regardless of the fact that the greater part of it was performed in the fire, the embers of which he sent flying in all directions like a display of fireworks. He cheered, too, now and then like a maniac--"Oh, happy day! I've found ye, have I? after all me trouble, too! Hooray! an' wan chair more for luck. Av me sowl only don't lape clane out o' me body, it's meself'll be thankful! But, sure--I'm forgittin'--" Briant paused suddenly in the midst of his uproarious dance, and seized a burning stick, which he attempted to blow into a flame with intense vehemence of action. Having succeeded, he darted towards an open space a few yards off, in the centre of which lay a large pile of dry sticks. To these he applied the lighted brand, and the next instant a glare of ruddy flame leaped upwards, and sent a shower of sparks high above the forest trees into the sky. He then returned, panting a good deal, but much composed, and said--"Now, darlints, come an' help me to gather the bits o' stick; somebody's bin scatterin' them all over the place, they have, bad luck to them! an' then ye'll sit down and talk a bit, an' tell me all about it." "But what's the fire for?" asked Ailie. "Ay, ye may say that," added Glynn; "we don't need such a huge bonfire as that to cook our supper with." "Och! be aisy, do. It'll do its work; small doubt o' that. The cap'n, poor man, ye know, is a'most deranged, an' they're every one o' them off at this good minute scourin' the woods lookin' for ye. O, then, it's sore hearts we've had this day! An' wan was sent wan way, an' wan another, an' the cap'n his-self he wint up the river, and, before he goes, he says to me, says he, `Briant, you'll stop here and watch the camp, for maybe they'll come wanderin' back to it, av they've bin and lost theirselves; an' mind ye don't lave it or go to slape. An' if they do come, or ye hear any news o' them, jist you light up a great fire, an' I'll be on the look-out, an' we'll all on us come back as fast as we can.' Now, that's the truth, an' the whole truth, an' nothin' but the truth, as the judge said to the witness when he swore at him." This was a comforting piece of information to Glynn and Ailie, so, without further delay, they assisted their overjoyed comrade to collect the scattered embers of the fire and boil the kettle. In this work they were all the more energetic that the pangs of hunger were beginning to remind them of the frugal and scanty nature of their last meal. The bonfire did its work effectually. From all parts of the forest to which they had wandered, the party came, dropping in one by one to congratulate the lost and found pair. Last of all came Captain Dunning and Tim Rokens, for the harpooner had vowed he would "stick to the cap'n through thick and thin." Tim kept his word faithfully. Through thick tangled brakes and thin mud-swamps did he follow his wretched commander that night until he could scarcely stand for fatigue, or keep his eyes open for sleep; and when the captain rushed into the camp at last, and clasped his sobbing child to his heart, Tim Rokens rushed in along with him, halted beside him, thrust his hands into his pockets, and looked on, while his eyes blinked with irresistible drowsiness, and his mud-bespattered visage beamed with excessive joy. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. PHILOSOPHICAL REMARKS ON "LIFE"--A MONKEY SHOT AND A MONKEY FOUND--JACKO DESCRIBED. "Such is life!" There is deep meaning in that expression, though it is generally applied in a bantering manner to life in all its phases, under all its peculiar and diversified circumstances. Taking a particular view of things in general, we may say of life that it is composed of diverse and miscellaneous materials--the grave and the gay; the sad and the comic; the extraordinary and the commonplace; the flat and the piquant; the heavy and the light; the religious and the profane; the bright and the dark; the shadow and the sunshine. All these, and a great deal more, similar as well as dissimilar, enter into the composition of what we familiarly term life. These elements, too, are not arranged according to order, at least, order that is perceptible to our feeble human understandings. That there does exist both order and harmony is undeniable; but we cannot see it. The elements appear to be miscellaneously intermingled--to be accidentally thrown together; yet, while looking at them in detail there seems to us a good deal of unreasonable and chaotic jumble, in regarding them as a whole, or as a series of wholes, it becomes apparent that there is a certain harmony of arrangement that may be termed kaleidoscopically beautiful; and when, in the course of events, we are called to the contemplation of something grand or lovely, followed rather abruptly by something curiously contemptible or absurd, we are tempted to give utterance to the thoughts that are too complicated and deep for rapid analysis, in the curt expression "Such is life." The physician invites his friends to a social _reunion_. He chats and laughs at the passing jest, or takes part in the music--the glee, or the comic song. A servant whispers in his ear. Ten minutes elapse, and he is standing by the bed of death. He watches the flickering flame; he endeavours to relieve the agonised frame; he wipes the cold sweat from the pale brow, and moistens the dry lips, or pours words of true, earnest, tender comfort into the ears of the bereaved. The contrast here is very violent and sudden. We have chosen, perhaps, the most striking instance of the kind that is afforded in the experience of men; yet such, in a greater or less degree, is life, in the case of every one born into this wonderful world of ours, and such, undoubtedly, it was intended to be. "There is a time for all things." We were made capable of laughing and crying; therefore, these being sinless indulgences in the abstract, we _ought_ to laugh and cry. And one of our great aims in life should be to get our hearts and affections so trained that we shall laugh and cry at the right time. It may be well to remark, in passing, that we should avoid, if possible, doing both at once. Now, such being life, we consider that we shall be doing no violence to the harmonies of life if we suddenly, and without further preface, transport the reader into the middle of next day, and a considerable distance down the river up which we have for some time been travelling. Here he (or she) will find Ailie and her father, and the whole party in fact, floating calmly and pleasantly down the stream in their canoe. "Now, this is wot I do enjoy," said Rokens, laying down his paddle and wiping the perspiration from his brow; "it's the pleasantest sort o' thing I've known since I went to sea." To judge from the profuse perspiration that flowed from his brow, and from the excessive redness of his face, one would suppose that Rokens' experience of "pleasant sort o' things" had not hitherto been either extensive or deep. But the man meant what he said, and a well-known proverb clears up the mystery--"What's one man's meat is another's poison!" Hard work, violent physical exertion, and excessive heat were Rokens' delight, and, whatever may be the opinion of flabby-muscled, flat individuals, there can be no reasonable doubt that Rokens meant it, when he added, emphatically, "It's fuss-rate; tip-top; A1 on Lloyd's, that's a fact!" Phil Briant, on hearing this, laid down his paddle, also wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his coat, and exclaimed--"Ditto, says I." Whereupon Glynn laughed, and Jim Scroggles grunted (this being _his_ method of laughing), and the captain shook his head, and said-- "P'r'aps it is, my lads, a pleasant sort o' thing, but the sooner we're out of it the better. I've no notion of a country where the natives murder poor little boys in cold blood, and carry off your goods and chattels at a moment's notice." The captain looked at Ailie as he spoke, thereby implying that she was part of the "goods and chattels" referred to. "Shure it's a fact; an' without sayin' by yer lave, too," added Briant, who had a happy facility of changing his opinion on the shortest notice to accommodate himself to circumstances. "Oh, the monkey!" screamed Ailie. Now as Ailie screamed this just as Briant ceased to speak, and, moreover, pointed, or appeared to point, straight into that individual's face, it was natural to suppose that the child was becoming somewhat personal--the more so that Briant's visage, when wrinkled up and tanned by the glare of a tropical sun, was not unlike to that of a large baboon. But every one knew that Ailie was a gentle, well-behaved creature--except, perhaps, when she was seized with one of her gleeful fits that bordered sometimes upon mischief--so that instead of supposing that she had made a personal attack on the unoffending Irishman, the boat's crew instantly directed their eyes close past Briant's face and into the recesses of the wood beyond, where they saw a sight that filled them with surprise. A large-leaved tree of the palm species overhung the banks of the river and formed a support to a wild vine and several bright-flowering parasitical plants that drooped in graceful luxuriance from its branches and swept the stream, which at that place was dark, smooth, and deep. On the top of this tree, in among the branches, sat a monkey--at least so Ailie called it; but the term ape or baboon would have been more appropriate, for the creature was a very large one, and, if the expression of its countenance indicated in any degree the feelings of its heart, also a very fierce one--an exceedingly ferocious one indeed. This monkey's face was as black as coal, and its two deep-seated eyes were, if possible, blacker than coal. Its head was bald, but the rest of its body was plentifully covered with hair. Now this monkey was evidently caught--taken by surprise--for instead of trying to escape as the canoe approached, it sat there chattering and exhibiting its teeth to a degree that was quite fiendish, not to say-- under the circumstances--unnecessary. As the canoe dropped slowly down the river, it became obvious that this monkey had a baby, for a very small and delicate creature was seen clinging round the big one's waist with its little hands grasping tightly the long hair on the mother's sides, its arms being much too short to encircle her body. Ailie's heart leapt with an emotion of tender delight as she observed that the baby monkey's face was white and sweet-looking; yes, we might even go the length of saying that, for a monkey, it was actually pretty. But it had a subdued, sorrowful look that was really touching to behold. It seemed as though that infantine monkey had, in the course of its brief career, been subjected to every species of affliction, to every imaginable kind of heart-crushing sorrow, and had remained deeply meek and humble under it all. Only for one brief instant did a different expression cross its melancholy face. That was when it first caught sight of the canoe. Then it exposed its very small teeth and gums after the fashion of its mother; but repentance seemed to follow instantly, for the sad look, mixed with a dash of timidity, resumed its place, and it buried its face in its mother's bosom. At that moment there was a loud report. A bullet whistled through the air and struck the old monkey in the breast. We are glad to say, for the credit of our sailors, that a howl of indignation immediately followed, and more than one fist was raised to smite the trader who had fired the shot. But Captain Dunning called the men to order in a peremptory voice, while every eye was turned towards the tree to observe the effect of the shot. As for Ailie, she sat breathless with horror at the cruelty of the act. The old monkey gave vent to a loud yell, clutched her breast with her hands, sprang wildly into the air, and fell to the ground. Her leap was so violent that the young one was shaken off and fell some distance from its poor mother, which groaned once or twice and then died. The baby seemed unhurt. Gathering itself nimbly up, it ran away from the men who had now landed, but who stood still, by the captain's orders, to watch its motions. Looking round, it observed its mother's form lying on the ground, and at once ran towards it and buried its little face in her breast, at which sight Ailie began to cry quietly. In a few seconds the little monkey got up and gently pawed the old one; then, on receiving no sign of recognition, it uttered a faint wail, something like "Wee-wee-wee-wee-oo!" and again hid its face in the breast of its dead parent. "Ah! the poor cratur," said Briant, in a tone of voice that betrayed his emotion. "O, why did ye kill her?" "Me ketch 'im?" said Bumble, looking inquiringly at the captain. "Oh, do!" answered Ailie, with a sob. The negro deemed this permission sufficient, for he instantly sprang forward, and throwing a piece of net over the little monkey, secured it. Now the way in which that baby monkey struggled and kicked and shrieked, when it found itself a prisoner, was perfectly wonderful to see! It seemed as if the strength of fifty little monkeys had been compressed into its diminutive body, and King Bumble had to exert all his strength in order to hold the creature while he carried it into the canoe. Once safely there and in the middle of the stream, it was let loose. The first thing it did on being set free was to give a shriek of triumph, for monkeys, like men, when at last _allowed_ to do that which they have long struggled in vain to accomplish, usually take credit for the achievement of their own success. Its next impulse was to look round at the faces of the men in search of its mother; but the poor mother was now lying dead covered with a cloth in the bottom of the canoe, so the little monkey turned from one to another with disappointment in its glance and then uttered a low wail of sorrow. Glynn Proctor affirmed positively that it looked twice at Phil Briant and even made a motion towards him; but we rather suspect that Glynn was jesting. Certain it is, however, that it looked long and earnestly at Ailie, and there is little doubt that, young though it was, it was able to distinguish something in her tender gaze of affection and pity that proved attractive. It did not, however, accept her invitation to go to her, although given in the most persuasive tones of her silver voice, and when any of the men tried to pat its head, it displayed such a row of sharp little teeth and made such a fierce demonstration of its intention to bite, that they felt constrained to leave it alone. At last Ailie held her hand towards it and said-- "Won't it come to me, dear, sweet pet? _Do_ come; I'll be as kind to you almost as your poor mother." The monkey looked at the child, but said nothing. "Come, monkey, dear puggy, _do_ come," repeated Ailie, in a still more insinuating voice. The monkey still declined to "come," but it looked very earnestly at the child, and trembled a good deal, and said, "Oo-oo-wee; oo-oo-wee!" As Ailie did not quite understand this, she said, "Poor thing!" and again held out her hand. "Try it with a small taste o' mate," suggested Briant. "Right," said the captain. "Hand me the biscuit-bag, Glynn. There, now, Ailie, try it with that." Ailie took the piece of biscuit offered to her by her father, and held it out to the monkey, who advanced with nervous caution, and very slowly, scratching its side the while. Putting out its very small hand, it touched the biscuit, then drew back the hand suddenly, and made a variety of sounds, accompanied by several peculiar contortions of visage, all of which seemed to say, "Don't hurt me, now; _don't_ deceive me, pray." Again it put forth its hand, and took the biscuit, and ate it in a very great hurry indeed; that is to say, it stuffed it into the bags in its cheeks. Ailie gave it a bit more biscuit, which it received graciously, and devoured voraciously; whereupon she put forth her hand, and sought to pat the little creature on the head. The attempt was successful. With many slight grins, as though to say, "Take care, now, else I'll bite," the small monkey allowed Ailie to pat its head and stroke its back. Then it permitted her to take hold of its hand, and draw it towards her. In a few minutes it showed evident symptoms of a desire to be patted again, and at length it drew timidly towards the child, and took hold of her hand in both of its delicate pink paws. Ailie felt quite tenderly towards the creature, and stroked its head again, whereupon it seemed suddenly to cast aside all fear. It leaped upon her knee, put its slender arms as far round her neck as possible, said "Oo-oo-wee!" several times in a very sad tone of voice, and laid its head upon her bosom. This was too much for poor Ailie; she thought of the dead mother of this infant monkey, and wept as she stroked its hairy little head and shoulders. From that time forward the monkey adopted Ailie as its mother, and Ailie adopted the monkey as her child. Now the behaviour of that monkey during the remainder of that voyage was wonderful. Oh, you know, it was altogether preposterous, to say the very least of it. Affection, which displayed itself in a desire to conciliate the favour of every one, was ingrained in its bones; while deception, which was evinced in a constant effort to appear to be intent upon one thing, when it was really bent upon another, was incorporated with its marrow! At first it was at war with every one, excepting, of course, Ailie, its adopted mother; but soon it became accustomed to the men, and in the course of a few days would go to any one who called it. Phil Briant was a particular favourite; so was Rokens, with whose black beard it played in evident delight, running its slender fingers through it, disentangling the knots and the matted portions which the owner of the beard had never yet been able to disentangle in a satisfactory way for himself; and otherwise acting the part of a barber and hairdresser to that bold mariner, much to his amusement, and greatly to the delight and admiration of the whole party. To say that that small monkey had a face, would be to assert what was unquestionably true, but what, also, was very far short of the whole truth. No one ever could make up his mind exactly as to how many faces it had. If you looked at it at any particular time, and then shut your eyes and opened them a moment after, that monkey, as far as expression went, had another and a totally different face. Repeat the operation, and it had a third face; continue the process, and it had a fourth face; and so on, until you lost count altogether of its multitudinous faces. Now it was grave and pensive; anon it was blazing with amazement; again it bristled with indignation; then it glared with anger, and presently it was all serene--blended love and wrinkles. Of all these varied expressions, that of commingled surprise and indignation was the most amusing, because these emotions had the effect of not only opening its eyes and its mouth to the form of three excessively round O's, but also raised a small tuft of hair just above its forehead into a bristling position, and threw its brow into an innumerable series of wrinkles. This complex expression was of frequent occurrence, for its feelings were tender and sensitive, so that it lived in the firm belief that its new friends (always excepting Ailie) constantly wished to insult it; and was afflicted with a chronic state of surprise at the cruelty, and of indignation at the injustice, of men who could wantonly injure the feelings of so young, and especially so small a monkey. When the men called it, it used to walk up to them with calm, deliberate condescension in its air; when Ailie held out her hand, it ran on its two legs, and being eager in its affections, it held out its arms in order to be caught up. As to food, that monkey was not particular. It seemed to be omnivorous. Certain it is that it never refused anything, but more than once it was observed quietly to throw away things that it did not relish. Once, in an unguarded moment, it accepted and chewed a small piece of tobacco; after which it made a variety of entirely new faces, and became very sick indeed--so sick that its adopted mother began to fear she was about to lose her child; but after vomiting a good deal, and moaning piteously for several days, it gradually recovered, and from that time entertained an unquenchable hatred for tobacco, and for the man who had given it to him, who happened to be Jim Scroggles. Ailie, being of a romantic temperament, named her monkey Albertino, but the sailors called him Jacko, and their name ultimately became the well-known one of the little foundling, for Ailie was not obstinate; so, seeing that the sailors did not or could not remember Albertino, she soon gave in, and styled her pet Jacko to the end of the chapter, with which piece of information we shall conclude _this_ chapter. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. RENCONTRE WITH SLAVE-TRADERS--ON BOARD AGAIN--A START, A MISFORTUNE, A GHOST STORY, A MISTAKE, AND AN INVITATION TO DINNER. On the evening of the second day after the capture of Jacko, as the canoe was descending the river and drawing near to the sea-coast, much to the delight of everyone--for the heat of the interior had begun to grow unbearable--a ship's boat was observed moored to the wharf near the slave-station which they had passed on the way up. At first it was supposed to be one of the boats of the _Red Eric_, but on a nearer approach this proved to be an erroneous opinion. "Wot can it be a-doin' of here?" inquired Tim Rokens, in an abstracted tone of voice, as if he put the question to himself, and therefore did not expect an answer. "No doubt it's a slaver's boat," replied the trader; "they often come up here for cargoes of niggers." "Och! the blackguards!" exclaimed Phil Briant, all his blood rising at the mere mention of the horrible traffic; "couldn't we land, capting, and give them a lickin'? I'll engage meself to put six at laste o' the spalpeens on their beam-ends." "No, Phil, we shan't land for that purpose; but we'll land for some gunpowder an' a barrel or two of plantains; so give way, lads." In another moment the bow of the canoe slid upon the mud-bank of the river close to the slaver's boat, which was watched by a couple of the most villainous-looking men that ever took part in that disgraceful traffic. They were evidently Portuguese sailors, and the scowl of their bronzed faces, when they saw the canoe approach the landing-place, showed that they had no desire to enter into amicable converse with the strangers. At this moment the attention of the travellers was drawn to a gang of slaves who approached the wharf, chained together by the neck, and guarded by the crew of the Portuguese boat. Ailie looked on with a feeling of dread that induced her to cling to her father's hand, while the men stood with folded arms, compressed lips, and knitted brows. On the voyage up they had landed at this station, and had seen the slaves in their places of confinement. The poor creatures were apparently happy at that time, and seemed totally indifferent to their sad fate; but their aspect was very different now. They were being hurried away, they knew not whither, by strangers whom they had been taught to believe were monsters of cruelty besides being cannibals, and who had purchased them for the purpose of killing them and eating their bodies. The wild, terrified looks of the men, and the subdued looks and trembling gait of the women showed that they expected no mercy at the hands of their captors. They hung back a little as they drew near to the boat, whereupon one of their conductors, who seemed to be in command of the party, uttered a fierce exclamation in Portuguese, and struck several of the men and women indiscriminately severe blows with his fists. In a few minutes they were all placed in the boat, and the crew had partly embarked, when Phil Briant, unable to restrain himself, muttered between his teeth to the Portuguese commander as he passed-- "Ye imp o' darkness, av I only had ye in the ring for tshwo minits--jist tshwo--ah thin, wouldn't I polish ye off." "Fat you say, sare?" cried the man, turning fiercely towards Briant, and swearing at him in bad English. "Say, is it? Oh, then _there's_ a translation for ye, that's understood in all lingos." Phil shook his clenched fist as close as possible to the nose of the Portuguese commander without actually coming into contact with that hooked and prominent organ. The man started back and drew his knife, at the same time calling to several of his men, who advanced with their drawn knives. "Ho!" cried Briant, and a jovial smile overspread his rough countenance as he sprang to a clear spot of ground and rolled up both sleeves of his shirt to the shoulders, thereby displaying a pair of arms that might, at a rapid glance, have been mistaken for a pair of legs--"that's yer game, is it? won't I stave in yer planks! won't I shiver yer timbers, and knock out yer daylights, bless yer purty faces! I didn't think ye had it in ye; come on darlints--toothpicks and all--as many as ye like; the more the better--wan at a time, or all at wance, it don't matter, not the laste, be no manes!" While Briant gave utterance to these liberal invitations, he performed a species of revolving dance, and flourished his enormous fists in so ludicrous a manner, that despite the serious nature of the fray the two parties were likely to be speedily engaged in, his comrades could not restrain their laughter. "Go it, Pat!" cried one. "True blue!" shouted another. "Silence!" cried Captain Dunning, in a voice that enforced obedience. "Get into the canoe, Briant." "Och! capting," exclaimed the wrathful Irishman, reproachfully, "sure ye wouldn't spile the fun?" "Go to the canoe, sir." "Ah! capting dear, jist wan round!" "Go to the canoe, I say." "I'll do it all in four minits an' wan quarter, av ye'll only shut yer eyes," pleaded Phil. "Obey orders, will you?" cried the captain, in a voice there was no mistaking. Briant indignantly thrust his fists into his breeches pockets, and rolled slowly down towards the canoe, as--to use one of his own favourite expressions--sulky as a bear with a broken head. Meanwhile the captain stepped up to the Portuguese sailors and told them to mind their own business, and let _honest_ men alone; adding, that if they did not take his advice, he would first give them a licking and then pitch them all into the river. This last remark caused Briant to prick up his ears and withdraw his fists from their inglorious retirement, in the fond hope that there might still be work for them to do; but on observing that the Portuguese, acting on the principle that discretion is the better part of valour, had taken the advice and were returning to their own boat, he relapsed into the sulks, and seated himself doggedly in his place in the canoe. During all this little scene, which was enacted much more rapidly than it had been described, master Jacko, having escaped from the canoe, had been seated near the edge of the wharf, looking on, apparently, with deep interest. Just as the Portuguese turned away to embark in their boat, Ailie's eye alighted on her pet; at the same moment the foot of the Portuguese commander alighted on her pet's tail. Now the tails of all animals seem to be peculiarly sensitive. Jacko's certainly was so, for he instantly uttered a shriek of agony, which was as quickly responded to by its adopted mother in a scream of alarm as she sprang forward to the rescue. When one unintentionally treads on the tail of any animal and thereby evokes a yell, he is apt to start and trip--in nine cases out of ten he does trip. The Portuguese commander tripped upon this occasion. In staggering out of the monkey's way he well-nigh tumbled over Ailie, and in seeking to avoid her, he tumbled over the edge of the wharf into the river. The difference between the appearance of this redoubtable slave-buying hero before and after his involuntary immersion was so remarkable and great that his most intimate friend would have failed to recognise him. He went down into the slimy liquid an ill-favoured Portuguese, clad in white duck; he came up a worse-favoured monstrosity, clothed in mud! Even his own rascally comrades grinned at him for a moment, but their grins changed into a scowl of anger when they heard the peals of laughter that burst from the throats of their enemies. As for Briant, he absolutely hugged himself with delight. "Och! ye've got it, ye have," he exclaimed, at intervals. "Happy day! who'd ha' thought it? to see him tumbled in the mud after all by purty little Ailie and Jacko. Come here to me Jacko, owld coon. Oh, ye swate cratur!" Briant seized the monkey, and squeezed it to his breast, and kissed it-- yes, he actually kissed its nose in the height of his glee, and continued to utter incoherent exclamations, and to perpetrate incongruous absurdities, until long after they had descended the river and left the muddy Portuguese and his comrades far behind them. Towards evening the party were once more safe and sound on board the _Red Eric_, where they found everything repaired, and the ship in a fit state to proceed to sea immediately. His Majesty King Bumble was introduced to the steward, then to the cook, and then to the caboose. Master Jacko was introduced to the ship's crew and to his quarters, which consisted of a small box filled with straw, and was lashed near the foot of the mizzen-mast. These introductions having been made, the men who had accompanied their commander on his late excursion into the interior, went forward and regaled their messmates for hours with anecdotes of their travels in the wilds of Africa. It is well-known, and generally acknowledged, that all sublunary things, pleasant as well as unpleasant, must come to an end. In the course of two days more the sojourn of the crew of the _Red Eric_ on the coast of Africa came to a termination. Having taken in supplies of fresh provisions, the anchor was weighed, and the ship stood out to sea with the first of the ebb tide. It was near sunset when the sails were hoisted and filled by a gentle land breeze, and the captain had just promised Ailie that he would show her blue water again by breakfast-time next morning, when a slight tremor passed through the vessel's hull, causing the captain to shout, with a degree of vigour that startled everyone on board, "All hands ahoy! lower away the boats, Mr Millons, we're hard and fast aground on a mud-bank!" The boats were lowered away with all speed, and the sails dewed up instantly, but the _Red Eric_ remained as immovable as the bank on which she had run aground; there was, therefore, no recourse but to wait patiently for the rising tide to float her off again. Fortunately the bank was soft and the wind light, else it might have gone ill with the good ship. There is scarcely any conceivable condition so favourable to quiet confidential conversation and story-telling as the one in which the men of the whale-ship now found themselves. The night was calm and dark, but beautiful, for a host of stars sparkled in the sable sky, and twinkled up from the depths of the dark ocean. The land breeze had fallen, and there was scarcely any sound to break the surrounding stillness except the lipping water as it kissed the black hull of the ship. A dim, scarce perceptible light rendered every object on board mysterious and unaccountably large. "Wot a night for a ghost story," observed Jim Scroggles, who stood with a group of the men, who were seated on and around the windlass. "I don't b'lieve in ghosts," said Dick Barnes stoutly, in a tone of voice that rendered the veracity of his assertion, to say the least of it, doubtful. "Nother do I," remarked Nikel Sling, who had just concluded his culinary operations for the day, and sought to employ his brief interval of relaxation in social intercourse with his fellows. Being engaged in ministering to the animal wants of his comrades all day, he felt himself entitled to enjoy a little of the "feast of reason and the flow of soul" at night: "No more duv I," added Phil Briant firmly, at the same time hitting his thigh a slap with his open hand that caused all round him to start. "You don't, don't you?" said Tim Rokens, addressing the company generally, and looking round gravely, while he pushed the glowing tobacco into his pipe with the point of a marline-spike. To this there was a chorus of "Noes," but a close observer would have noticed that nearly the whole conversation was carried on in low tones, and that many a glance was cast behind, as if these bold sceptics more than half expected all the ghosts that did happen to exist to seize them then and there and carry them off as a punishment for their unbelief. Tim Rokens drew a few whiffs of his pipe, and looked round gravely before he again spoke; then he put the following momentous question, with the air of a man who knew he could overturn his adversary whatever his reply should be-- "An' why don't ye b'lieve in 'em?" We cannot say positively that Tim Rokens put the question to Jim Scroggles, but it is certain that Jim Scroggles accepted the question as addressed to him, and answered in reply-- "'Cause why? I never seed a ghost, an' nobody never seed a ghost, an' I don't b'lieve in what I can't see." Jim said this as if he thought the position incontestable. Tim regarded him with a prolonged stare, but for some time said nothing. At last he emitted several strong puffs of smoke, and said-- "Young man, did you ever _see_ your own mind?" "No, in course not." "Did anybody else ever see it?" "Cer'nly not." "Then of course you don't believe in it!" added Rokens, while a slight smile curled his upper lip. The men chuckled a good deal at Jim's confusion, while he in vain attempted to explain that the two ideas were not parallel by any means. At this juncture, Phil Briant came to the rescue. "Ah now, git out," said he. "I agree with Jim intirely; an' Tim Rokens isn't quite so cliver as he thinks. Now look here, lads, here's how it stands, 'xactly. Jim says he never seed his own mind--very good; and he says as how nobody else niver seed it nother; well, and wot then? Don't you observe it's 'cause he han't got none at all to see? He han't got even the ghost of one, so how could ye expect anybody to see it?" "Oh, hold yer noise, Paddy," exclaimed Dick Barnes, "an' let's have a ghost story from Tim Rokens. He b'lieves in ghosts, anyhow, an' could give us a yarn about 'em, I knows, if he likes. Come along now, Tim, like a good fellow." "Ay, that's it," cried Briant; "give us a stiff 'un now. Don't be afeard to skear us, old boy." "Oh, I can give ye a yarn about ghosts, cer'nly," said Tim Rokens, looking into the bowl of his pipe in order to make sure that it was sufficiently charged to last out the story. "I'll tell ye of a ghost I once seed and knocked down." "Knocked down!" cried Nikel Sling in surprise; "why, I allers thought as how ghosts was spirits, an' couldn't be knocked down or cotched neither." "Not at all," replied Rokens; "ghosts is made of all sorts o' things-- brass, and iron, and linen, and buntin', and timber; it wos a brass ghost the feller that I'm goin' to tell ye about--" "I say, Sling," interrupted Briant, "av ghosts wos spirits, as you thought they wos, would they be allowed into the State of Maine?" "Oh, Phil, shut up, do! Now then, Tim, fire away." "Well, then," began Rokens, with great deliberation, "it was on a Vednesday night as it happened. I had bin out at supper with a friend that night, and we'd had a glass or two o' grog; for ye see, lads, it was some years ago, afore I tuk to temp'rance. I had a long way to go over a great dark moor afore I could git to the place where I lodged, so I clapped on all sail to git over the moor, seein' the moon would go down soon; but it wouldn't do: the moon set when I wos in the very middle of the moor, and as the road wasn't over good, I wos in a state o' confumble lest I should lose it altogether. I looks round in all directions, but I couldn't see nothin'--cause why? there wasn't nothin' to be seen. It was 'orrid dark, I can tell ye. Jist one or two stars a-shinin', like half-a-dozen farden dips in a great church; they only made darkness wisible. I began to feel all over a cur'ous sort o' peculiar unaccountableness, which it ain't easy to explain, but is most oncommon disagreeable to feel. It wos very still, too--desperate still. The beatin' o' my own heart sounded quite loud, and I heer'd the tickin' o' my watch goin' like the click of a church clock. Oh, it was awful!" At this point in the story the men crept closer together, and listened with intense earnestness. "Suddently," continued Rokens--"for things in sich circumstances always comes suddently--suddently I seed somethin' black jump up right ahead o' me." Here Rokens paused. "Wot was it?" inquired Gurney, in a solemn whisper. "It was," resumed Rokens slowly, "the stump of a old tree." "Oh, I thought it had been the ghost," said Gurney, somewhat relieved, for that fat little Jack-tar fully believed in apparitions, and always listened to a ghost story in fear and trembling. "No it wasn't the ghost; it was the stump of a tree. Well, I set sail again, an' presently I sees a great white thing risin' up ahead o' me." "Hah! _that_ was it," whispered Gurney. "No, that wasn't it," retorted Rokens; "that was a hinn, a white-painted hinn, as stood by the roadside, and right glad wos I to see it, I can tell ye, shipmates, for I wos gittin' tired as well as frightened. I soon roused the landlord by kickin' at the door till it nearly comed off its hinges; and arter gettin' another glass o' grog, I axed the landlord to show me my bunk, as I wanted to turn in. "It was a queer old house that hinn wos. A great ramblin' place, with no end o' staircases and passages. A dreadful gloomy sort o' place. No one lived in it except the landlord, a dark-faced surly fellow as one would like to kick out of his own door, and his wife, who wos little better than his-self. They also had a hostler, but he slept with the cattle in a hout-house. "`Ye won't be fear'd,' says the landlord, as he hove ahead through the long passages holdin' the candle high above his head to show the way, `to sleep in the far end o' the house. It's the old bit; the new bit's undergoin' repairs. You'll find it comfortable enough, though it's raither gusty, bein' old, ye see; but the weather ain't cold, so ye won't mind it.' "`Oh! niver a bit,' says I, quite bold like; `I don't care a rap for nothin'. There ain't no ghosts, is there?' "`Well, I'm not sure; many travellers wot has stayed here has said to me they've seed 'em, particklerly in the old part o' the buildin', but they seems to be quite harmless, and never hurts any one as lets 'em alone. I never seed 'em myself, an' there's cer'nly not more nor half-a-dozen on 'em--hallo!--' "At that moment, shipmates, a strong gust o' cold air came rushin' down the passage we was in, and blow'd out the candle. `Ah! it's gone out,' said the landlord; `just wait here a moment, and I'll light it;' and with that he shuffled off, and left me in the blackest and most thickest darkness I ever wos in in all my life. I didn't dare to move, for I didn't know the channels, d'ye see, and might ha' run myself aground or against the rocks in no time. The wind came moanin' down the passage; as if all the six ghosts the landlord mentioned, and a dozen or two o' their friends besides, was a-dyin' of stommick-complaint. I'm not easy frightened, lads, but my knees did feel as if the bones in 'em had turned to water, and my hair began to git up on end, for I felt it risin'. Suddenly I saw somethin' comin' along the passage towards me--" "That's the ghost, _now_," interrupted Gurney, in a tremulous whisper. Rokens paused, and regarded his fat shipmate with a look of contemptuous pity; then turning to the others, he said-- "It wos _the landlord_, a-comin' back with the candle. He begged pardon for leavin' me in the dark so long, and led the way to a room at the far end o' the passage. It was a big, old-fashioned room, with a treemendius high ceiling, and no furniture, 'cept one chair, one small table, and a low camp-bed in a corner. `Here's your room,' says the landlord; `it's well-aired. I may as well mention that the latch of the door ain't just the thing. It sometimes blows open with a bang, but when you know it may happen, you can be on the look-out for it, you know, and so you'll not be taken by surprise. Good-night.' With that the fellow set the candle down on the small table at the bedside, and left me to my cogitations. I heerd his footsteps echoin' as he went clankin' along the passages; then they died away, an' I was alone. "Now, I tell ye wot it is, shipmates; I've bin in miny a fix, but I niver wos in sich a fix as that. The room was empty and big; so big that the candle could only light up about a quarter of it, leavin' the rest in gloom. There was one or two old picturs on the walls; one on 'em a portrait of a old admiral, with a blue coat and brass buttons and white veskit. It hung just opposite the fut o' my bunk, an' I could hardly make it out, but I saw that the admiral kep his eye on me wheriver I turned or moved about the room, an' twice or thrice, if not more, I saw him wink with his weather eye. Yes, he winked as plain as I do myself. Says I to myself, says I, `Tim Rokens, you're a British tar, an' a whaler, an' a harpooner; so, Tim, my boy, don't you go for to be a babby.' "With that I smoked a pipe, and took off my clo's, and tumbled in, and feeling a little bolder by this time, I blew out the candle. In gittin' into bed I knocked over the snuffers, w'ich fell with an awful clatter, and my heart lep' into my mouth as I lep' under the blankets, and kivered up my head. Howsever, I was uncommon tired, so before my head was well on the pillow, I went off to sleep. "How long I slep' I can't go for to say, but w'en I wakened it wos pitch-dark. I could only just make out the winder by the pale starlight that shone through it, but the moment I set my two eyes on it, wot does I see? I seed a sight that made the hair on my head stand on end, and my flesh creep up like a muffin. It was a--" "A ghost!" whispered Gurney, while his eyes almost started out of his head. Before Tim Rokens could reply, something fell with a heavy flop from the yard over their heads right in among the men, and vanished with a shriek. It was Jacko, who, in his nocturnal rambles in the rigging, had been shaken off the yard on which he was perched, by a sudden lurch of the vessel as the tide began to move her about. At any time such an event would have been startling, but at such a time as this it was horrifying. The men recoiled with sharp cries of terror, and then burst into laughter as they observed what it was that had fallen amongst them. But the laughter was subdued, and by no means hearty. "I'll be the death o' that brute yet," said Gurney, wiping the perspiration from his forehead; "but go on, Rokens; what was it you saw?" "It _was_ the ghost," replied Rokens, as the men gathered round him again--"a long, thin ghost, standin' at my bedside. The light was so dim that I couldn't well make it out, but I saw that it was white, or pale-like, and that it had on a pointed cap, like the cap o' an old witch. I thought I should ha' died outright, and I lay for full five minits tremblin' like a leaf and starin' full in its face. At last I started up in despair, not knowin' well wot to do; and the moment I did so the ghost disappeared. "I thought this was very odd, but you may be sure I didn't find fault with it; so after lookin' all round very careful to make quite sure that it was gone, I lay down again on my back. Well, would ye b'lieve it, shipmates, at that same moment up starts the ghost again as bold as iver? And up starts I in a fright; but the moment I was up the ghost was gone. `Now, Tim Rokens,' says I to myself, always keepin' my eye on the spot where I'd last seed the ghost, `this _is_ queer; this is quite remarkable. You're dreamin', my lad, an' the sooner ye put a stop to that 'ere sort o' dreamin' the better.' "Havin' said this, I tried to feel reckless, and lay down again, and up started the ghost again with its long thin white body, an' the pointed cap on its head. I noticed, too, that it wore its cap a little on one side quite jaunty like. So, wheniver I sot up that 'ere ghost disappeared, and wheniver I lay down it bolted up again close beside me. At last I lost my temper, and I shouts out quite loud, `Shiver my timbers,' says I, `ghost or no ghost, I'll knock in your daylights if ye carry on like that any longer;' and with that I up fist and let drive straight out at the spot where its bread-basket should ha' bin. Down it went, that ghost did, with a clatter that made the old room echo like an empty church. I guv it a rap, I did, sich as it hadn't had since it was born--if ghosts be born at all--an' my knuckles paid for it, too, for they was skinned all up; then I lay down tremblin', and then, I dun know how it was, I went to sleep. "Next mornin' I got up to look for the ghost, and, sure enough, I found his _remains_! His pale body lay in a far corner o' the room doubled up and smashed to bits, and his pointed cap lay in another corner almost flat. That ghost," concluded Rokens, with slow emphasis--"that ghost was the _candle_, it wos!" "The candle!" exclaimed several of the men in surprise. "Yes, the candle, and brass candlestick with the stinguisher a-top o't. Ye see, lads, the candle stood close to the side o' my bed on the table, an' when I woke up and I saw it there, it seemed to me like a big thing in the middle o' the room, instead o' a little thing close to my nose; an' when I sot up in my bed, of coorse I looked right over the top of it and saw nothin'; an' when I lay down, of coorse it rose up in the very same place. An', let me tell you, shipmates," added Tim, in conclusion, with the air of a philosopher, "_all_ ghosts is o' the same sort. They're most of 'em made o' wood or brass, or some sich stuff, as I've good cause to remimber, for I had to pay the price o' that 'ere ghost before I left that there hinn on the lonesome moor, and for the washin' of the blankets, too, as wos all kivered with blood nixt mornin' from my smashed knuckles. There's a morial contained in most things, lads, if ye only try for to find it out; an' the morial of my story is this-- don't ye go for to b'lieve that everything ye don't 'xactly understand is a ghost until ye've got to know more about it." While Tim Rokens was thus recounting his ghostly experiences, and moralising thereon, for the benefit of his comrades, the silent tide was stealthily creeping up the sides of the _Red Eric_, and placing her gradually on an even keel. At the same time a British man-of-war was creeping down upon that innocent vessel with the murderous intention of blowing her out of the water, if possible. In order to explain this latter fact, we must remind the reader of the boat and crew of the Portuguese slaver which was encountered by the party of excursionists on their trip down the river. The vessel to which that boat belonged had been for several weeks previous creeping about off the coast, watching her opportunity to ship a cargo of slaves, and at the same time to avoid falling into the hands of a British cruiser which was stationed on the African coast to prevent the villainous traffic. The Portuguese ship, which was very similar in size and shape to the _Red Eric_, had hitherto managed to elude the cruiser, and had succeeded in taking a number of slaves on board ere she was discovered. The cruiser gave chase to her on the same afternoon as that on which the _Red Eric_ grounded on the mud-bank off the mouth of the river. Darkness, however, favoured the slaver, and when the land breeze failed, she was lost sight of in the intricacies of the navigation at that part of the coast. Towards morning, while it was yet dark, the _Red Eric_ floated, and Captain Dunning, who had paced the deck all night with a somewhat impatient tread, called to the mate--"Now, Mr Millons, man the boats, and let some of the hands stand-by to trim the sails to the first puff of wind." "Ay, ay, sir," answered the mate, as he sprang to obey. Now it is a curious fact, that at that identical moment the captain of the cruiser addressed his first lieutenant in precisely the same words, for he had caught a glimpse of the whaler's topmasts against the dark sky, and mistook them, very naturally, for those of the slaver. In a few seconds the man-of-war was in full pursuit. "I say, Dr Hopley," remarked Captain Dunning, as he gazed intently into the gloom astern, "did you not hear voices? and, as I live, there's a large ship bearing right down on us!" "It must be a slaver," replied the doctor; "probably the one that owned the boat we saw up the river." "Ship on the larboard bow!" shouted the look-out on the forecastle. "Hallo! ships ahead and astern!" remarked the captain, in surprise. "There seems to be a `school' of 'em in these waters." At this moment the oars of the boats belonging to the ship astern were heard distinctly, and a light puff of wind at the same time bulged out the sails of the _Red Eric_, which instantly forged ahead. "Ship ahoy!" shouted a voice from the boats astern in a tone of authority; "heave-to, you rascal, or I'll sink you!" Captain Dunning turned to the doctor with a look of intense surprise. "Why, doctor, that's the usual hail of a pirate, or something like it. What it can be doing here is past my comprehension. I would as soon expect to find a whale in a wash-tub as a black flag in these waters! Port, port a little" (turning to the steersman)--"steady--so. We must run for it, anyhow, for we're in no fightin' trim. The best answer to give to such a hail is silence." Contrary to expectation the boats did not again hail, but in a few minutes the dark hull of the British cruiser became indistinctly visible as it slipped swiftly through the water before the freshening breeze, and neared the comparatively slow-going whaler rapidly. Soon it came within easy range, and while Captain Dunning looked over the taffrail with a troubled countenance, trying to make her out, the same voice came hoarsely down on the night breeze issuing the same peremptory command. "Turn up the hands, Mr Millons, and serve out pistols and cutlasses. Get the carronades on the forecastle and quarterdeck loaded, Mr Markham, and look alive; we must show the enemy a bold front, whoever he is." As the captain issued these orders, the darkness was for an instant illuminated by a bright flash; the roar of a cannon reverberated over the sea; a round-shot whistled through the rigging of the _Red Eric_, and the next instant the foretopsail-yard came rattling down upon the deck. Immediately after, the cruiser ranged up alongside, and the order to heave-to was repeated with a threat that was calculated to cause the hair of a man of peace to stand on end. The effect on Captain Dunning was to induce him to give the order-- "Point the guns there, lads, and aim high; I don't like to draw first blood--even of a pirate." "Ship ahoy! Who are you, and where from?" inquired Captain Dunning, through the speaking-trumpet. "Her British Majesty's frigate _Firebrand_. If you don't heave-to, sir, instantly, I'll give you a broadside. Who are you, and where bound?" "Whew!" whistled Captain Dunning, to vent his feelings of surprise ere he replied, "The _Red Eric_, South Sea whaler, outward bound." Having given this piece of information, he ordered the topsails to be backed, and the ship was hove-to. Meanwhile a boat was lowered from the cruiser, and the captain thereof speedily leaped upon the whaler's quarterdeck. The explanation that followed was not by any means calculated to allay the irritation of the British captain. He had made quite sure that the _Red Eric_ was the slaver of which he was in search, and the discovery of his mistake induced him to make several rather severe remarks in reference to the crew of the _Red Eric_ generally and her commander in particular. "Why didn't you heave-to when I ordered you," he said, "and so save all this trouble and worry?" "Because," replied Captain Dunning drily, "I'm not in the habit of obeying orders until I know that he who gives 'em has a right to do so. But 'tis a pity to waste time talking about such trifles when the craft you are in search of is not very far away at this moment." "What mean you, sir?" inquired the captain of the cruiser quickly. "I mean that yonder vessel, scarcely visible now on the lee bow, is the slaver, in all likelihood." The captain gave but one hasty glance in the direction pointed to by Captain Dunning, and next moment he was over the side of the ship, and the boat was flying swiftly towards his vessel. The rapid orders given on board the cruiser soon after, showed that her commander was eagerly in pursuit of the strange vessel ahead, and the flash and report of a couple of guns proved that he was again giving orders in his somewhat peremptory style. When daylight appeared, Captain Dunning was still on deck, and Glynn Proctor stood by the wheel. The post of the latter, however, was a sinecure, as the wind had again fallen. When the sun rose it revealed the three vessels lying becalmed within a short distance of each other and several miles off shore. "So, so," exclaimed the captain, taking the glass and examining the other vessels. "I see it's all up with the slaver. Serves him right; don't it, Glynn?" "It does," replied Glynn emphatically. "I hope they will all be hanged. Isn't that the usual way of serving these fellows out?" "Well, not exactly, lad. They don't go quite that length--more's the pity; if they did, there would be less slave-trading; but the rascals will lose both ship and cargo." "I wonder," said Glynn, "how they can afford to carry on the trade when they lose so many ships as I am told they do every year." "You wouldn't wonder, boy, if you knew the enormous prices got for slaves. Why, the profits on one cargo, safely delivered, will more than cover the loss of several vessels and cargoes. You may depend on't they would not carry it on if it did not pay." "Humph!" ejaculated Glynn, giving the wheel a savage turn, as if to express his thorough disapprobation of the slave-trade, and his extreme disgust at not being able, by the strength of his own right arm, at once to repress it. "And who's to pay for our foretopsail-yard?" he inquired, abruptly, as if desirous of changing the subject. "Ourselves, I fear," replied the captain. "We must take it philosophically, and comfort ourselves with the fact that it _is_ the foretopsail-yard, and not the bowsprit or the mainmast, that was carried away. It's not likely the captain of the cruiser will pay for it, at any rate." Captain Dunning was wrong. That same morning he received a polite note from the commander of the said cruiser, requesting the pleasure of his company to dinner, in the event of the calm continuing, and assuring him that the carpenter and the sail-maker of the man-of-war should be sent on board his ship after breakfast to repair damages. Captain Dunning, therefore, like an honest, straightforward man as he was, admitted that he had been hasty in his judgment, and stated to Glynn Proctor, emphatically, that the commander of the _Firebrand_ was "a trump." CHAPTER FIFTEEN. NEW SCENES--A FIGHT PREVENTED BY A WHALE--A STORM--BLOWN OFF THE YARDARM--WRECK OF THE "RED ERIC". Five weeks passed away, and really, when one comes to consider the matter, it is surprising what a variety of events may be compressed into five weeks; what an amount of space may be passed over, what an immense change of scene and circumstance may be experienced in that comparatively short period of time. Men and women who remain quietly at home do not, perhaps, fully realise this fact. Five weeks to them does not usually seem either very long or very short. But let those quiet ones travel; let them rush away headlong, by the aid of wind and steam, to the distant and wonderful parts of this wonderful world of ours, and, ten to one, they will afterwards tell you that the most wonderful discovery they had made during their travels, is the fact that a miniature lifetime (apparently) can be compressed into five weeks. Five weeks passed away, and in the course of that time the foretopsail-yard of the _Red Eric_ had been repaired; the _Red Eric_ herself had passed from equatorial into southern seas; Alice Dunning had become very sea-sick, which caused her to look uncommonly green in the face, and had got well again, which caused her to become fresh and rosy as the early morning; Jacko had thoroughly established his reputation as the most arrant and accomplished thief that ever went to sea: King Bumble had been maligned and abused again and again, and over again, despite his protestations of innocence, by grim-faced Tarquin, the steward, for having done the deeds which were afterwards discovered to have been committed by Jacko; fat little Gurney had sung innumerable songs of his own composing, in which he was ably supported by Glynn Proctor; Dr Hopley had examined, phrenologically, all the heads on board, with the exception of that of Tarquin, who would not submit to the operation on any account, and had shot, and skinned, and stuffed a variety of curious sea-birds, and caught a number of remarkable sea-fish, and had microscopically examined--to the immense interest of Ailie, and consequently of the captain--a great many surprising animalcules, called _Medusae_, which possessed the most watery and the thinnest possible bodies, yet which had the power of emitting a beautiful phosphoric light at night, so as to cause the whole ocean sometimes to glow as if with liquid fire; Phil Briant had cracked more jokes, good, bad, and indifferent, than would serve to fill a whole volume of closely-printed pages, and had told more stories than would be believed by most people; Tim Rokens and the other harpooners had, with the assistance of the various boats' crews, slain and captured several large whales, and Nikel Sling had prepared, and assisted to consume, as many breakfasts, dinners, and suppers as there are days in the period of time above referred to;--in short, those five weeks, which we thus dismiss in five minutes, might, if enlarged upon, be expanded into material to fill five volumes such as this, which would probably take about five years to write--another reason for cutting this matter short. All this shows how much may be compressed into little space, how much may be done and seen in little time, and, therefore, how much value men ought to attach to little things. Five weeks passed away, as we have already remarked, and at the end of that time the _Red Eric_ found herself, one beautiful sunny afternoon, becalmed on the breast of the wide ocean with a strange vessel, also a whaler, a few miles distant from her, and a couple of sperm-whales sporting playfully about midway between the two ships. Jim Scroggles on that particular afternoon found himself in the crow's-nest at the masthead, roaring "Thar she blows!" with a degree of energy so appalling that one was almost tempted to believe that that long-legged individual had made up his mind to compress his life into one grand but brief minute, and totally exhaust his powers of soul and body in the reiterated vociferation of that one faculty of the sperm-whale. Allowance must be made for Jim, seeing that this was the first time he had been fortunate enough to "raise the oil" since he became a whaler. The usual scene of bustle and excitement immediately ensued. The men sprang to their appointed places in a moment; the tubs, harpoons, etcetera, were got ready, and in a few minutes the three boats were leaping over the smooth swell towards the fish. While this was taking place on board the _Red Eric_, a precisely similar scene occurred on board the other whale-ship, and a race now ensued between the boats of the two ships, for each knew well that the first boat that harpooned either of the whales claimed it. "Give way, my lads," whispered Captain Dunning eagerly, as he watched the other boats; "we shall be first--we shall be first; only bend your backs." The men needed not to be urged; they were quite as anxious as their commander to win the races and bent their backs, as he expressed it, until the oars seemed about to break. Glynn sat on the after thwart, and did good service on this occasion. It soon became evident that the affair would be decided by the boats of the two captains, both of which took the lead of the others, but as they were advancing in opposite directions it was difficult to tell which was the fleeter of the two. When the excitement of the race was at its height the whales went down, and the men lay on their oars to wait until they should rise again. They lay in anxious suspense for about a minute, when the crew of Captain Dunning's boat was startled by the sudden apparition of a waterspout close to them, by which they were completely drenched. It was immediately followed by the appearance of the huge blunt head of one of the whales, which rose like an enormous rock out of the sea close to the starboard-quarter. The sight was received with a loud shout, and Tim Rokens leaped up and grasped a harpoon, but the whale sheered off. A spare harpoon lay on the stern-sheets close to Glynn, who dropped his oar and seized it. Almost without knowing what he was about, he hurled it with tremendous force at the monster's neck, into which it penetrated deeply. The harpoon fortunately happened to be attached to a large buoy, called by whalers a drogue, which was jerked out of the boat like a cannon-shot as the whale went down, carrying harpoon and drogue along with it. "Well done, lad," cried the captain, in great delight, "you've made a noble beginning! Now, lads, pull gently ahead, she won't go far with such an ornament as that dangling at her neck. A capital dart! couldn't have done it half so well myself, even in my young days!" Glynn felt somewhat elated at this unexpected piece of success; to do him justice, however, he took it modestly. In a few minutes the whale rose, but it had changed its course while under water, and now appeared close to the leading boat of the other ship. By the laws of the whale-fishery, no boat of one vessel has a right to touch a whale that has been struck by the boat of another vessel, so long as the harpoon holds fast and the rope remains unbroken, or so long as the float to which the harpoon is connected remains attached. Nevertheless, in defiance of this well-known law, the boat belonging to the captain of the strange ship gave chase, and succeeded in making fast to the whale. To describe the indignation of Captain Dunning and his men on witnessing this act is impossible. The former roared rather than shouted, "Give way, lads!" and the latter bent their backs as if they meant to pull the boat bodily out of the water, and up into the atmosphere. Meanwhile all the other boats were in hot pursuit of the second whale, which had led them a considerable distance away from the first. "What do you mean by striking that fish?" shouted Captain Dunning, when, after a hard pull, he came up with the boat, the crew of which had just succeeded in thrusting a lance deep into a mortal part of the huge animal, which soon after rolled over, and lay extended on the waves. "What right have you to ask?" replied the captain of the strange ship, an ill-favoured, powerful man, whose countenance was sufficient to condemn him in any society, save that of ruffians. "Don't you see your drogue has broke loose?" "I see nothing of the sort. It's fast at this moment; so you'll be good enough to cut loose and take yourself off as fast as you please." To this the other made no reply, but, turning to his men, said: "Make fast there, lads; signal the other boats, and pull away for the ship; look sharp, you lubbers." "Och! captain dear," muttered Phil Briant, baring both arms up to the shoulders, "only give the word; _do_, now!" Captain Dunning, who was already boiling with rage, needed no encouragement to make an immediate attack on the stranger, neither did his men require an order; they plunged their oars into the water, ran right into the other boat, sprang to their feet, seized lances, harpoons, and knives, and in another moment would have been engaged in a deadly struggle had not an unforeseen event occurred to prevent the fray. This was the partial recovery of the whale, which, apparently resolved to make one final struggle for life, turned over and over, lashed the sea into foam, and churned it up with the blood which spouted in thick streams from its numerous wounds. Both boats were in imminent danger, and the men sprang to their oars in order to pull out of the range of the monster's dying struggles. In this effort the strange boat was successful, but that of Captain Dunning fared ill. A heavy blow from the whale's tail broke it in two, and hurled it into the air, whence the crew descended, amid a mass of harpoons, lances, oars, and cordage, into the blood-stained water. The fish sheered away for some distance, dragging the other boat along with it, and then rolled over quite dead. Fortunately not one of the crew of the capsized boat was hurt. All of them succeeded in reaching and clinging to the shattered hull of their boat; but there they were destined to remain a considerable time, as the boat of the stranger, having secured the dead fish, proceeded leisurely to tow it towards their ship, without paying the slightest attention to the shouts of their late enemies. A change had now come over the face of the sky. Clouds began to gather on the horizon, and a few light puffs of air swept over the sea, which enabled the strange vessel to bear down on her boat, and take the whale in tow. It also enabled the _Red Eric_ to beat up, but more slowly, towards the spot where their disabled boat lay, and rescue their comrades from their awkward position. It was some time before the boats were all gathered together. When this was accomplished the night had set in and the stranger had made off with her ill-gotten prize, the other whale having sounded, and the chase being abandoned. "Now, of all the disgustin' things that ever happened to me, this is the worst," remarked Captain Dunning, in a very sulky tone of voice, as he descended to the cabin to change his garments, Ailie having preceded him in order to lay out dry clothes. "Oh! my darling papa, what a fright I got," she exclaimed, running up and hugging him, wet as he was, for the seventh time, despite his efforts to keep her off. "I was looking through the spy-glass at the time it happened, and when I saw you all thrown into the air I cried-- oh! I can't tell you how I cried." "You don't need to tell me, Ailie, my pet, for your red, swelled-up eyes speak for themselves. But go, you puss, and change your own frock. You've made it as wet as my coat, nearly; besides, I can't undress, you know, while you stand there." Ailie said, "I'm so very, very thankful," and then giving her father one concluding hug, which completely saturated the frock, went to her own cabin. Meanwhile the crew of the captain's boat were busy in the forecastle stripping off their wet garments, and relating their adventures to the men of the other boats, who, until they reached the ship, had been utterly ignorant of what had passed. It is curious that Tim Rokens should open the conversation with much the same sentiment, if not exactly the same phrase, as that expressed by the captain. "Now boys," said he, slapping his wet limbs, "I'll tell ye wot it is, of all the aggrawations as has happened to me in my life, this is out o' sight the wust. To think o' losin' that there whale, the very biggest I ever saw--" "Ah! Rokens, man," interrupted Glynn, as he pulled off his jacket, "the loss is greater to me than to you, for that was my _first_ whale!" "True, boy," replied the harpooner, in a tone of evidently genuine sympathy; "I feel for ye. I knows how I should ha' taken on if it had happened to me. But cheer up, lad; you know the old proverb, `There's as good fish in the sea as ever came out o't.' You'll be the death o' many sich yet, I'll bet my best iron." "Sure, the wust of it all is, that we don't know who was the big thief as got that fish away with him," said Phil Briant, with a rueful countenance. "Don't we, though!" cried Gurney, who had been in the mate's boat; "I axed one o' the men o' the stranger's boats--for we run up close alongside durin' the chase--and he told me as how she was the _Termagant_ of New York; so we can be down on 'em yet, if we live long enough." "Humph!" observed Rokens; "and d'ye suppose he'd give ye the right name?" "He'd no reason to do otherwise. He didn't know of the dispute between the other boats." "There's truth in that," remarked Glynn, as he prepared to go on deck; "but it may be a year or more before we foregather. No, I give up all claim to my first fish from this date." "All hands ahoy!" shouted the mate; "tumble up there! Reef topsails! Look alive!" The men ran hastily on deck, completing their buttoning and belting as they went, and found that something very like a storm was brewing. As yet the breeze was moderate, and the sea not very high, but the night was pitchy dark, and a hot oppressive atmosphere boded no improvement in the weather. "Lay out there, some of you, and close reef the topsails," cried the mate, as the men ran to their several posts. The ship was running at the time under a comparatively small amount of canvas; for, as their object was merely to cruise about in those seas in search of whales, and they had no particular course to steer, it was usual to run at night under easy sail, and sometimes to lay-to. It was fortunate that such was the case on the present occasion; for it happened that the storm which was about to burst on them came with appalling suddenness and fury. The wind tore up the sea as if it had been a mass of white feathers, and scattered it high in air. The mizzen-topsail was blown to ribbons, and it seemed as if the other sails were about to share the same fate. The ship flew from billow to billow, after recovering from the first rude shock, as if she were but a dark cloud on the sea, and the spray flew high over her masts, drenching the men on the topsail-yards while they laboured to reef the sails. "We shall have to take down these t'gallant-masts, Mr Millons," said the captain, as he stood by the weather-bulwarks holding on to a belaying-pin to prevent his being washed away. "Shall I give the order, sir?" inquired the first mate. "You may," replied the captain. Just as the mate turned to obey, a shriek was heard high above the whistling of the fierce wind. "Did you hear that?" said the captain anxiously. "I did," replied the mate. "I fear--I trust--" The remainder of the sentence was either suppressed, or the howling of the wind prevented its being heard. Just then a flash of lightning lit up the scene, and a terrific crash of thunder seemed to rend the sky. The flash was momentary, but it served to reveal the men on the yards distinctly. They had succeeded in close-reefing the topsails, and were hurrying down the rigging. The mate came close to the captain's side and said, "Did you see, sir, the way them men on the mainyard were scramblin' down?" The captain had not time to reply ere a shout, "Man overboard!" was heard faintly in the midst of the storm, and in another instant some of the men rushed aft with frantic haste, shouting that one of their number had been blown off the yard into the sea. "Down your helm," roared the captain; "stand-by to lower away the boats." The usual prompt "Ay, ay, sir," was given, but before the men could reach their places a heavy sea struck the vessel amidships, poured several tons of water on the decks, and washed all the loose gear overboard. "Let her away," cried the captain quickly. The steersman obeyed; the ship fell off, and again bounded on her mad course like a wild horse set free. "It's of no use, sir," said the mate, as the captain leaped towards the wheel, which the other had already gained; "no boat could live in that sea for a moment. The poor fellow's gone by this time. He must be more than half-a-mile astern already." "I know it," returned the captain, in a deep sad voice. "Get these masts down, Mr Millons, and see that everything is made fast. Who is it, did you say?" "The men can't tell, sir; one of 'em told me 'e thinks it was young Boswell. It was too dark to see 'is face, but 'is figure was that of a stout young fellow." "A stout young fellow," muttered the captain, as the mate hurried forward. "Can it have been Glynn?" His heart sank within him at the thought, and he would have given worlds at that moment, had he possessed them, to have heard the voice of our hero, whom, almost unwittingly, he had begun to love with all the affection of a father. While he stood gazing up at the rigging, attempting to pierce the thick darkness, he felt his sleeve plucked, and, looking down, observed Ailie at his side. "My child," he cried, grasping her by the arm convulsively, "_you_ here! How came you to leave your cabin, dear? Go down, go down; you don't know the danger you run. Stay--I will help you. If one of those seas comes on board it would carry you overboard like a fleck of foam." "I didn't know there was much danger, papa. Glynn told me there wasn't," she replied, as her father sprang with her to the companion-ladder. "How? when? where, child? Did Glynn speak to you within the last ten minutes?" "Yes; he looked down the hatch just as I was coming up, and told me not to be afraid, and said I must go below, and not think of coming on deck; but I heard a shriek, papa, and feared something had happened, so I came to ask what it was. I hope no one is hurt." "My darling Ailie," replied the captain, in an agitated voice, "go down to your berth, and pray for us just now. There is not _much_ danger; but in all times of danger, whether great or slight, we should pray to Our Father in Heaven, for we never know what a day or an hour may bring forth. I will speak to you about everything to-morrow; to-night I must be on deck." He kissed her forehead, pushed her gently into the cabin, shut the door, and, coming on deck, fastened the companion-hatch firmly down. In a short time the ship was prepared to face the worst. The topsails were close-reefed; the topgallant-masts sent down on deck; the spanker and jib were furled, and, soon after, the mainsail and foresail were also furled. The boats were taken in and secured on deck, and the ship went a little more easily through the raging sea; but as the violence of the gale increased, sail had to be further reduced, and at last everything was taken in except the main spencer and foretopmast-staysail. "I wouldn't mind this much," said the captain, as he and the first mate stood close to the binnacle, "if I only knew our exact position. But we've not had an observation for several days, and I don't feel sure of our whereabouts. There are some nasty coral reefs in these seas. Did you find out who the poor fellow is yet?" "It's young Boswell, I fear, Mr Markham is mustering the men just now, sir." As he spoke, the second mate came aft and confirmed their fears. The man who had thus been summoned in a moment, without warning, into the presence of his Maker, had been a quiet, modest youth, and a favourite with every one on board. At any other time his death would have been deeply felt; but in the midst of that terrible storm the men had no time to think. Indeed, they could not realise the fact that their shipmate was really gone. "Mr Markham," said the captain, as the second mate turned away, "send a hand in to the chains to heave the lead. I don't feel at all easy in my mind, so near these shoals as we must be just now." While the order was being obeyed the storm became fiercer and more furious. Bright gleams of lightning flashed repeatedly across the sky, lighting up the scene as if with brightest moonlight, and revealing the horrid turmoil of the raging sea in which the ship now laboured heavily. The rapidity with which the thunder followed the lightning showed how near to them was the dangerous and subtle fluid; and the crashing, bursting reports that shook the ship from stem to stern gave the impression that mountains were being dashed to atoms against each other in the air. All the sails still exposed to the fury of the gale were blown to shreds; the foretopmast and the jib-boom were carried away along with them and the _Red Eric_ was driven at last before the wind under bare poles. The crew remained firm in the midst of this awful scene; each man stood at his post, holding on by any fixed object that chanced to be within his reach, and held himself ready to spring to obey every order. No voice could be heard in the midst of the howling winds, the lashing sea, and the rending sky. Commands were given by signs as well as possible, during the flashes of lightning; but little or nothing remained to be done. Captain Dunning had done all that a man thoroughly acquainted with his duties could accomplish to put his ship in the best condition to do battle with the storm, and he now felt that the issue remained in the hands of Him who formed the warring elements, and whose will alone could check their angry strife. During one of the vivid flashes of lightning the captain observed Glynn Proctor standing near the starboard gangway, and, waiting for the next flash, he made a signal to him to come to the spot where he stood. Glynn understood it, and in a few seconds was at his commander's side. "Glynn," my boy, said the latter, "you won't be wanted on deck for some time. There's little to be done now. Go down and see what Ailie's about, poor thing. She'll need a little comfort. Say I sent you." Without other reply than a nod of the head, Glynn sprang to the companion-hatch, followed by the captain, who undid the fastenings to let him down and refastened them immediately, for the sea was washing over the stern continually. Glynn found the child on her knees in the cabin with her face buried in the cushions of one of the sofas. He sat down beside her and waited until she should have finished her prayer; but as she did not move for some time he laid his hand gently on her shoulder. She looked up with a happy smile on her face. "Oh, Glynn, is that you? I'm so glad," she said, rising, and sitting down beside him. "Your father sent me down to comfort you, my pet," said Glynn, taking her hand in his and drawing her towards him. "I have got comfort already," replied the child; "I'm so very happy, now." "How so, Ailie? who has been with you?" "God has been with me. You told me, Glynn, that there wasn't much danger, but I felt sure that there was. Oh! I never heard such terrible noises, and this dreadful tossing is worse than ever I felt it--a great deal. So I went down on my knees and prayed that God, for Christ's sake would save us. I felt very frightened, Glynn. You can't think how my heart beat every time the thunder burst over us. But suddenly--I don't know how it was--the words I used to read at home so often with my dear aunts came into my mind; you know them, Glynn, `Call upon Me in the time of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me.' I don't know where I read them. I forget the place in the Bible now; but when I thought of them I felt much less frightened. Do you think it was the Holy Spirit who put them into my mind? My aunts used to tell me that all my _good_ thoughts were given to me by the Holy Spirit. Then I remembered the words of Jesus, `I will never leave thee nor forsake thee,' and I felt so happy after that. It was just before you came down. I _think_ we shall not be lost. God would not make me feel so happy if we were going to be lost, would He?" "I think not, Ailie," replied Glynn, whose conscience reproached him for his ignorance of the passages in God's word referred to by his companion, and who felt that he was receiving rather than administering comfort. "When I came down I did not very well know how I should comfort you, for this is certainly the most tremendous gale I ever saw, but somehow I feel as if we were in less danger now. I wish I knew more of the Bible, Ailie. I'm ashamed to say I seldom look at it." "Oh, that's a pity, isn't it, Glynn?" said Ailie, with earnest concern expressed in her countenance, for she regarded her companion's ignorance as a great misfortune; it never occurred to her that it was a sin. "But it's very easy to learn it," she added with an eager look. "If you come to me here every day we can read it together. I would like to have you hear me say it off, and then I would hear you." Before he could reply the vessel received a tremendous shock which caused her to quiver from stem to stern. "She must have been struck by lightning," cried Glynn, starting up and hurrying towards the door. Ailie's frightened look returned for a few minutes, but she did not tremble as she had done before. Just as Glynn reached the top of the ladder the hatch was opened and the captain thrust in his head. "Glynn, my boy," said he, in a quick, firm tone, "we are ashore. Perhaps we shall go to pieces in a few minutes. God knows. May He in His mercy spare us. You cannot do much on deck. Ailie must be looked after till I come down for her. Glynn, _I depend upon you_." These words were uttered hurriedly, and the hatch was shut immediately after. It is impossible to describe accurately the conflicting feelings that agitated the breast of the young sailor as he descended again to the cabin. He felt gratified at the trust placed in him by the captain, and his love for the little girl would at any time have made the post of protector to her an agreeable one; but the idea that the ship had struck the rocks, and that his shipmates on deck were struggling perhaps for their lives while he was sitting idly in the cabin, was most trying and distressing to one of his ardent and energetic temperament. He was not, however, kept long in suspense. Scarcely had he regained the cabin when the ship again struck with terrific violence, and he knew by the rending crash overhead that one or more of the masts had gone over the side. The ship at the same moment slewed round and was thrown on her beam-ends. So quickly did this occur that Glynn had barely time to seize Ailie in his arms and save her from being dashed against the bulkhead. The vessel rose again on the next wave, and was hurled on the rocks with such violence that every one on board expected her to go to pieces immediately. At the same time the cabin windows were dashed in, and the cabin itself was flooded with water. Glynn was washed twice across the cabin and thrown violently against the ship's sides, but he succeeded in keeping a firm hold of his little charge and in protecting her from injury. "Hallo, Glynn!" shouted the captain, as he opened the companion-hatch, "come on deck, quick! bring her with you!" Glynn hurried up and placed the child in her father's arms. The scene that presented itself to him on gaining the deck was indeed appalling. The first grey streak of dawn faintly lighted up the sky, just affording sufficient light to exhibit the complete wreck of everything on deck, and the black froth-capped tumult of the surrounding billows. The rocks on which they had struck could not be discerned in the gloom, but the white breakers ahead showed too clearly where they were. The three masts had gone over the side one after another, leaving only the stumps of each standing. Everything above board--boats, binnacle, and part of the bulwarks--had been washed away. The crew were clinging to the belaying-pins and to such parts of the wreck as seemed likely to hold together longest. It seemed to poor Ailie, as she clung to her father's neck that she had been transported to some far-distant and dreadful scene, for scarcely a single familiar object remained by which her ocean home, the _Red Eric_, could be recognised. But Ailie had neither desire nor opportunity to remark on this tremendous change. Every successive billow raised the doomed vessel, and let her fall with heavy violence on the rocks. Her stout frame trembled under each shock, as if she were endued with life, and shrank affrighted from her impending fate; and it was as much as the captain could do to maintain his hold of the weather-bulwarks and of Ailie at the same time. Indeed, he could not have done it at all had not Glynn stood by and assisted him to the best of his ability. "It won't last long, lad," said the captain, as a larger wave than usual lifted the shattered hull and dashed it down on the rocks, washing the deck from stern to stem, and for a few seconds burying the whole crew under water. "May the Almighty have mercy on us; no ship can stand this long." "Perhaps the tide is falling," suggested Glynn, in an encouraging voice, "and I think I see something like a shore ahead. It will be daylight in half-an-hour or less." The captain shook his head. "There's little or no tide here to rise or fall, I fear. Before half-an-hour we shall--" He did not finish the sentence, but looking at Ailie with a gaze of agony, he pressed her more closely to his breast. "I think we shall be saved," whispered the child, twining her arms more closely round her father's neck, and laying her wet cheek against his. Just then Tim Rokens crept aft, and said that he saw a low sandy island ahead, and a rocky point jutting out from it close to the bows of the ship. He suggested that a rope might be got ashore when it became a little lighter. Phil Briant came aft to make the same suggestion, not knowing that Rokens had preceded him. In fact, the men had been consulting as to the possibility of accomplishing this object, but when they looked at the fearful breakers that boiled in white foam between the ship's bow and the rocky point, their hearts failed them, and no one was found to volunteer for the dangerous service. "Is any one inclined to try it?" inquired the captain. "There's niver a wan of us but 'ud try it, cap'en, _if you gives the order_," answered Briant. The captain hesitated. He felt disinclined to order any man to expose himself to such imminent danger; yet the safety of the whole crew might depend on a rope being connected with the shore. Before he could make up his mind, Glynn, who saw what was passing in his mind, exclaimed--"I'll do it, captain;" and instantly quitting his position, hurried forward as fast as circumstances would permit. The task which Glynn had undertaken to perform turned out to be more dangerous and difficult than at first he had anticipated. When he stood at the lee bow, fastening a small cord round his waist, and looking at the turmoil of water into which he was about to plunge, his heart well-nigh failed him, and he felt a sensation of regret that he had undertaken what seemed now an impossibility. He did not wonder that the men had one and all shrunk from the attempt. But he had made up his mind to do it. Moreover, he had _said_ he would do it, and feeling that he imperilled his life in a good cause, he set his face as a flint to the accomplishment of his purpose. Well was it for Glynn Proctor that day that in early boyhood he had learned to swim, and had become so expert in the water as to be able to beat all his young companions! He noticed, on looking narrowly at the foaming surge through which he must pass in order to gain the rocky point, that many of the submerged rocks showed their tops above the flood, like black spots, when each wave retired. To escape these seemed impossible--to strike one of them he knew would be almost certain death. "Don't try it, boy," said several of the men, as they saw Glynn hesitate when about to spring, and turn an anxious gaze in all directions; "it's into death ye'll jump, if ye do." Glynn did not reply; indeed, he did not hear the remark, for at that moment his whole attention was riveted on a ledge of submerged rock, which ever and anon showed itself, like the edge of a knife, extending between the ship and the point. Along the edge of this the retiring waves broke in such a manner as to form what appeared to be dead water-tossed, indeed, and foam-clad, but not apparently in progressive motion. Glynn made up his mind in an instant, and just as the first mate came forward with an order from the captain that he was on no account to make the rash attempt, he sprang with his utmost force off the ship's side and sank in the raging sea. Words cannot describe the intense feeling of suspense with which the men on the lee bow gazed at the noble-hearted boy as he rose and buffeted with the angry billows. Every man held his breath, and those who had charge of the line stood nervously ready to haul him back at a moment's notice. On first rising to the surface he beat the waves as if bewildered, and while some of the men cried, "He's struck a rock," others shouted to haul him in; but in another second he got his eyes cleared of spray, and seeing the ship's hull towering above his head, he turned his back on it and made for the shore. At first he went rapidly through the surge, for his arm was strong and his young heart was brave; but a receding wave caught him and hurled him some distance out of his course--tossing him over and over as if he had been a cork. Again he recovered himself, and gaining the water beside the ledge, he made several powerful and rapid strokes, which carried him within a few yards of the point. "He's safe," said Rokens eagerly. "No; he's missed it!" cried the second mate, who, with Gurney and Dick Barnes, payed out the rope. Glynn had indeed almost caught hold of the farthest-out ledge of the point when he was drawn back into the surge, and this time dashed against a rock and partially stunned. The men had already begun to haul in on the rope when he recovered, and making a last effort, gained the rocks, up which he clambered slowly. When beyond the reach of the waves he fell down as if he had fainted. This, however, was not the case; he was merely exhausted, as well as confused, by the blows he had received on the rocks, and lay for a few seconds quite still in order to recover strength, during which period of inaction he thanked God earnestly for his deliverance, and prayed fervently that he might be made the means of saving his companions in danger. After a minute or two he rose, unfastened the line from his waist, and began to haul it ashore. To the other end of the small line the men in the ship attached a thick cable, the end of which was soon pulled up, and made fast to a large rock. Tim Rokens was now ordered to proceed to the shore by means of the rope in order to test it. After this a sort of swing was constructed, with a noose which was passed round the cable. To this a small line was fastened, and passed to the shore. On this swinging-seat Ailie was seated, and hauled to the rocks, Tim Rokens "shinning" along the cable at the same time to guard her from accident. Then the men began to land, and thus, one by one, the crew of the _Red Eric_ reached the shore in safety; and when all had landed, Captain Dunning, standing in the midst of his men, lifted up his voice in thanksgiving to God for their deliverance. But when daylight came the full extent of their forlorn situation was revealed. The ship was a complete wreck; the boats were all gone, and they found that the island on which they had been cast was only a few square yards in extent--a mere sandbank, utterly destitute of shrub or tree, and raised only a few feet above the level of the ocean. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. THE SANDBANK--THE WRECKED CREW MAKE THE BEST OF BAD CIRCUMSTANCES. It will scarcely surprise the reader to be told that, after the first emotions of thankfulness for deliverance from what had appeared to the shipwrecked mariners to be inevitable death, a feeling amounting almost to despair took possession of the whole party for a time. The sandbank was so low that in stormy weather it was almost submerged. It was a solitary coral reef in the midst of the boundless sea. Not a tree or bush grew upon it, and except at the point where the ship had struck, there was scarcely a rock large enough to afford shelter to a single man. Without provisions, without sufficient shelter, without the means of escape, and _almost_ without the hope of deliverance, it seemed to them that nothing awaited them but the slow, lingering pains and horrors of death by starvation. As those facts forced themselves more and more powerfully home to the apprehension of the crew,--while they cowered for shelter from the storm under the lee of the rocky point, they gave expression to their feelings in different ways. Some sat down in dogged silence to await their fate; others fell on their knees and cried aloud to God for mercy; while a few kept up their own spirits and those of their companions by affecting a cheerfulness which, however, in some cages, was a little forced. Ailie lay shivering in her father's arms, for she was drenched with salt water and very cold. Her eyes were closed, and she was very pale from exposure and exhaustion, but her lips moved as if in prayer. Captain Dunning looked anxiously at Dr Hopley, who crouched beside them, and gazed earnestly in the child's face while he felt her pulse. "It's almost too much for her, I fear," said the captain, in a hesitating, husky voice. The doctor did not answer for a minute or two, then he said, as if muttering to himself rather than replying to the captain's remark, "If we could only get her into dry clothes, or had a fire, or even a little brandy, but--" He did not finish the sentence, and the captain's heart sank within him, and his weather-beaten face grew pale as he thought of the possibility of losing his darling child. Glynn had been watching the doctor with intense eagerness, and with a terrible feeling of dread fluttering about his heart. When he heard the last remark he leaped up and cried--"If brandy is all you want you shall soon have it." And running down to the edge of the water, he plunged in and grasped the cable, intending to clamber into the ship, which had by this time been driven higher on the rocks, and did not suffer so much from the violence of the breakers. At the same instant Phil Briant sprang to his feet, rushed down after him, and before he had got a yard from the shore, seized him by the collar, and dragged him out of the sea high and dry on the land. Glynn was so exasperated at this unceremonious and at the moment unaccountable treatment, that he leaped up, and in the heat of the moment prepared to deal the Irishman a blow that would very probably have brought the experiences of the "ring" to his remembrance; but Briant effectually checked him by putting both his own hands into his pockets, thrusting forward his face as if to invite the blow, and exclaiming-- "Och! now, hit fair, Glynn, darlint; put it right in betwane me two eyes!" Glynn laughed hysterically, in spite of himself. "What mean you by stopping me?" he asked somewhat sternly. "Shure, I mane that I'll go for the grog meself. Ye've done more nor yer share o' the work this mornin', an' it's but fair to give a poor fellow a chance. More be token, ye mustn't think that nobody can't do nothin' but yeself. It's Phil Briant that'll shin up a rope with any white man in the world, or out of it." "You're right, Phil," said Rokens, who had come to separate the combatants. "Go aboord, my lad, an' I'll engage to hold this here young alligator fast till ye come back." "You don't need to hold me, Tim," retorted Glynn, with a smile; "but don't be long about it, Phil. You know where the brandy is kept--look alive." Briant accomplished his mission successfully, and, despite the furious waves, brought the brandy on shore in safety. As he emerged like a caricature of old Neptune dripping from the sea, it was observed that he held a bundle in his powerful grasp. It was also strapped to his shoulders. "Why, what have you got there?" inquired the doctor, as he staggered under the shelter of the rocks. "Arrah! give a dhrop to the child, an' don't be wastin' yer breath," replied Briant, as he undid the bundle. "Sure I've brought a few trifles for her outside as well as her in." And he revealed to the glad father a bundle of warm habiliments which he had collected in Ailie's cabin, and kept dry by wrapping them in several layers of tarpaulin. "God bless you, my man," said the captain, grasping the thoughtful Irishman by the hand. "Now, Ailie, my darling pet, look up, and swallow a drop o' this. Here's a capital rig-out o' dry clothes too." A few sips of brandy soon restored the circulation which had well-nigh been arrested, and when she had been clothed in the dry garments, Ailie felt comparatively comfortable, and expressed her thanks to Phil Briant with tears in her eyes. A calm often succeeds a storm somewhat suddenly, especially in southern latitudes. Soon after daybreak the wind moderated, and before noon it ceased entirely, though the sea kept breaking in huge rolling billows on the sandbank for many hours afterwards. The sun, too, came out hot and brilliant, shedding a warm radiance over the little sea-girt spot as well as over the hearts of the crew. Human nature exhibits wonderful and sudden changes. Men spring from the depths of despair to the very summit, of light-hearted hope, and very frequently, too, without a very obvious cause to account for the violent change. Before the day after the storm was far advanced, every one on the sandbank seemed to be as joyous as though there was no danger of starvation whatever. There was, however, sufficient to produce the change in the altered aspect of affairs. For one thing, the warm sun began to make them feel comfortable--and really it is wonderful how ready men are to shut their eyes to the actual state of existing things if they can only enjoy a little present comfort. Then the ship was driven so high up on the rocks as to be almost beyond the reach of the waves, and she had not been dashed to pieces, as had at first been deemed inevitable, so that the stores and provisions in her might be secured, and the party be thus enabled to subsist on their ocean prison until set free by some passing ship. Under the happy influence of these improved circumstances every one went about the work of rendering their island home more comfortable, in good, almost in gleeful spirits. Phil Briant indulged in jests which a few hours ago would have been deemed profane, and Gurney actually volunteered the song of the "man wot got his nose froze;" but every one declined to listen to it, on the plea that it reminded them too forcibly of the cold of the early morning. Even the saturnine steward, Tarquin, looked less ferocious than usual, and King Bumble became so loquacious that he was ordered more than once to hold his tongue and to "shut up." The work they had to do was indeed of no light nature. They had to travel to and fro between the ship and the rocks on the rope-cable, a somewhat laborious achievement, in order to bring ashore such things as they absolutely required. A quantity of biscuit, tea, coffee, and sugar were landed without receiving much damage, then a line was fastened to a cask of salt beef, and this, with a few more provisions, was drawn ashore the first day, and placed under the shelter of the largest rock on the point. On the following day it was resolved that a raft should be constructed, and everything that could in any way prove useful be brought to the sandbank and secured. For Captain Dunning well knew that another storm might arise as quickly as the former had done, and although the ship at present lay in comparatively quiet water, the huge billows that would be dashed against her in such circumstances would be certain to break her up and scatter her cargo on the breast of the all-devouring sea. In the midst of all this activity and bustle there sat one useless and silent, but exceedingly grave and uncommonly attentive spectator, namely, Jacko the monkey. That sly and sagacious individual, seeing that no one intended to look after him, had during the whole of the recent storm wisely looked after himself. He had ensconced himself in a snug and comparatively sheltered corner under the afterpart of the weather-bulwarks. But when he saw the men one by one leaving the ship, and proceeding to the shore by means of the rope, he began to evince an anxiety as to his own fate which had in it something absolutely human. Jacko was the last man, so to speak, to leave the _Red Eric_. Captain Dunning, resolving, with the true spirit of a brave commander; to reserve that honour to himself, had seen the last man, he thought, out of the ship, and was two-thirds of the distance along the rope on his way to land, when Jim Scroggles, who was _always_ either in or out of the way at the most inopportune moments, came rushing up from below, whither he had gone to secure a favourite brass _finger-ring_, and scrambled over the side. It would be difficult to say whether Jim's head, or feet, or legs, or knees, or arms went over the side first,--they all got over somehow, nobody knew how--and in the getting over his hat flew off and was lost for ever. Seeing this, and feeling, no doubt, the momentous truth of that well-known adage "Now or never," Master Jacko uttered a shriek, bounded from his position of fancied security, and seized Jim Scroggles firmly by the hair, resolved apparently to live or perish along with him. As to simply clambering along that cable to the shore. Jacko would have thought no more of it than of eating his dinner. Had he felt so disposed he could have walked along it, or hopped along it, or thrown somersaults along it. But to proceed along it while it was at one moment thirty feet above the sea, rigid as a bar of iron, and the next moment several feet under the mad turmoil of the raging billows--this it was that filled his little bosom with inexpressible horror, and induced him to cling with a tight embrace to the hair of the head of his bitterest enemy! Having gained the shore, Jacko immediately took up his abode in the warmest spot on that desolate sandbank, which was the centre of the mass of cowering and shivering men who sought shelter under the lee of the rocks, where he was all but squeezed to death, but where he felt comparatively warm, nevertheless. When the sun came out he perched himself in a warm nook of the rock near to Ailie, and dried himself, after which, as we have already hinted, he superintended the discharging of the cargo and the arrangements made for a prolonged residence on the sandbank. "Och! but yer a queer cratur," remarked Briant, as he passed, chucking the monkey under the chin. "Oo-oo-oo-ee-o!" replied Jacko. "Very thrue, no doubt--but I haven't time to spake to ye jist yet, lad," replied Briant, with a laugh, as he ran down to the beach and seized a barrel which had just been hauled to the water's edge. "What are you going to do with the wood, papa?" asked Ailie. The captain had seized an axe at the moment, and began vigorously to cut up a rough plank which had been driven ashore by the waves. "I'm going to make a fire, my pet, to warm your cold toes." "But my toes are not cold, papa; you've no idea how comfortable I am." Ailie did indeed look comfortable at that moment, for she was lying on a bed of dry sand, with a thick blanket spread over her. "Well, then, it will do to warm Jacko's toes, if yours don't want it; and besides, we all want a cup of tea after our exertions. The first step towards that end, you know, is to make a fire." So saying, the captain piled up dry wood in front of the place where Ailie lay, and in a short time had a capital fire blazing, and a large tin kettle full of fresh water boiling thereon. It may be as well to remark here that the water had been brought in a small keg from the ship, for not a single drop of fresh water was found on the sandbank after the most careful search. Fortunately, however, the water-tanks of the _Red Eric_ still contained a large supply. During the course of that evening _a_ sort of shed or tent was constructed out of canvas and a few boards placed against the rock. This formed a comparatively comfortable shelter, and one end of it was partitioned off for Ailie's special use. No one was permitted to pass the curtain that hung before the entrance to this little boudoir, except the captain, who claimed a right to do what he pleased, and Glynn, who was frequently invited to enter in order to assist its fair occupant in her multifarious arrangements, and Jacko, who could not be kept out by any means that had yet been hit upon, except by killing him; but as Ailie objected to this, he was suffered to take up his abode there, and, to do him justice, he behaved very well while domiciled in that place. It is curious to note how speedily little children, and men too, sometimes, contrive to forget the unpleasant or the sad, or, it may be, the dangerous circumstances in which they may chance to be placed, while engaged in the minute details incident to their peculiar position. Ailie went about arranging her little nest under the rock with as much zeal and cheerful interest as if she were "playing at houses" in her own room at home. She decided that one corner was peculiarly suited for her bed, because there was a small rounded rock in it which looked like a pillow; so Glynn was directed to spread the tarpaulin and the blankets there. Another corner exhibited a crevice in the rock, which seemed so suitable for a kennel for Jacko that the arrangement was agreed to on the spot. We say agreed to, because Ailie suggested everything to Glynn, and Glynn always agreed to everything that Ailie suggested, and stood by with a hammer and nails and a few pieces of plank in his hands ready to fulfil her bidding, no matter what it should be. So Jacko was sent for to be introduced to his new abode, but Jacko was not to be found, for the very good reason that he had taken possession of the identical crevice some time before, and at that moment was enjoying a comfortable nap in its inmost recess. Then Ailie caused Glynn to put up a little shelf just over her head, which he did with considerable difficulty, because it turned out that nails could not easily be driven into the solid rock. After that a small cave at the foot of the apartment was cleaned out and Ailie's box placed there. All this and sundry other pieces of work were executed by the young sailor and his little friend with an amount of cheerful pleasantry that showed they had, in the engrossing interest of their pursuit, totally forgotten the fact that they were cast away on a sandbank on which were neither food nor water, nor wood, except what was to be found in the wrecked ship, and around which for thousands of miles rolled the great billows of the restless sea. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. LIFE ON THE SANDBANK--AILIE TAKES POSSESSION OF FAIRYLAND--GLYNN AND BUMBLE ASTONISH THE LITTLE FISHES. In order that the reader may form a just conception of the sandbank on which the crew of the _Red Eric_ had been wrecked, we shall describe it somewhat carefully. It lay in the Southern Ocean, a little to the west of the longitude of the Cape of Good Hope, and somewhere between 2000 and 3000 miles to the south of it. As has been already remarked, the bank at its highest point was little more than a few feet above the level of the ocean, the waves of which in stormy weather almost, and the spray of which altogether, swept over it. In length it was barely fifty yards, and in breadth about forty. Being part of a coral reef, the surface of it was composed of the beautiful white sand that is formed from coral by the dashing waves. At one end of the bank--that on which the ship had struck--the reef rose into a ridge of rock, which stood a few feet higher than the level of the sand, and stretched out into the sea about twenty yards, with its points projecting here and there above water. On the centre of the bank at its highest point one or two very small blades of green substance were afterwards discovered. So few were they, however, and so delicate, that we feel justified in describing the spot as being utterly destitute of verdure. Ailie counted those green blades many a time after they were discovered. There were exactly thirty-five of them; twenty-six were, comparatively speaking, large; seven were of medium size, and two were extremely small--so small and thin that Ailie wondered they did not die of sheer delicacy of constitution on such a barren spot. The greater part of the surface of the bank was covered with the fine sand already referred to, but there were one or two spots which were covered with variously-sized pebbles, and an immense number of beautiful small shells. On such a small and barren spot one would think there was little or nothing to admire. But this was not the case. Those persons whose thoughts are seldom allowed to fix attentively on any subject, are apt to fall into the mistake of supposing that in this world there are a great many absolutely uninteresting things. Many things are, indeed, uninteresting to individuals, but there does not exist a single thing which has not a certain amount of interest to one or another cast of mind, and which will not afford food for contemplation, and matter fitted to call forth our admiration for its great and good Creator. We know a valley so beautiful that it has been for generations past, and will probably be for generations to come, the annual resort of hundreds of admiring travellers. The valley cannot be seen until you are almost in it. The country immediately around it is no way remarkable; it is even tame. Many people would exclaim at first sight in reference to it, "How uninteresting." It requires a close view, a minute inspection, to discover the beauties that lie hidden there. So was it with our sandbank. Ailie's first thoughts were, "Oh! how dreary; how desolate!" and in some respects she was right; but she dwelt there long enough to discover things that charmed her eye and her imagination, and caused her sometimes to feel as if she had been transported to the realms of Fairyland. We do not say, observe, that the crew of the _Red Eric_ were ever blessed with such dreams. Jim Scroggles, for instance, had no eye for the minute beauties or wonders of creation. Jim, according to his own assertion, could see about as far through a millstone as most men. He could apostrophise his eye, on certain occasions, and tell it--as though its own power of vision were an insufficient medium of information--that "that _wos_ a stunnin' iceberg;" or that "that _wos_ a gale and a half, fit to tear the masts out o' the ship a'most." But for any less majestic object in nature, Jim Scroggles had nothing to say either to his eye, or his nose, or his shipmates. As was Jim Scroggles, so were most of the other men. Hence they grumbled a good deal at their luckless condition. But upon the whole they were pretty cheerful--especially at meal-times--and, considering their circumstances, they behaved very well. Glynn Proctor was a notable exception to the prevailing rule of indifference to small things. By nature he was of a superior stamp of mind to his comrades; besides, he had been better educated; and more than all, he was at that time under the influence of Ailie Dunning. She admired what she admired; he liked what she liked; he looked with interest at the things which she examined. Had Ailie sat down beside the stock of an old anchor and looked attentively at it, Glynn would have sat down and stared at it too, in the firm belief that there was something there worth looking at! Glynn laughed aloud sometimes at himself, to think how deeply interested he had become in the child, for up to that time he had rather avoided than courted the society of children; and he used to say to Ailie that the sailors would begin to call her his little sweetheart, if he spent so much of his time with her; to which Ailie would reply by asking what a sweetheart was; whereat Glynn would laugh immoderately; whereupon Ailie would tell him not to be stupid, but to come and play with her! All the sailors, even including the taciturn Tarquin, had a tender feeling of regard for the little girl who shared their fortunes at that time, but with the exception of Glynn, none were capable of sympathising with her in her pursuits. Tim Rokens, her father, and Dr Hopley did to some extent, but these three had their minds too deeply filled with anxiety about their critical position to pay her much attention, beyond the kindest concern for her physical wants. King Bumble, too, we beg his pardon, showed considerable interest in her. The sable assistant of Nikel Sling shone conspicuous at this trying time, for his activity, good-humour, and endurance, and in connection with Phil Briant, Gurney, and Jacko, kept up the spirits of the shipwrecked men wonderfully. Close under the rocks, on the side farthest removed from the spot where the rude tent was pitched, there was a little bay or creek, not more than twenty yards in diameter, which Ailie appropriated and called Fairyland! It was an uncommonly small spot, but it was exceedingly beautiful and interesting. The rocks, although small, were so broken and fantastically formed, that when Ailie crept close in amongst them, and so placed herself that the view of the sandbank was entirely shut out, and nothing was to be seen but little pools of crystal water and rocklets, with their margin of dazzling white sand, and the wreck of the ship in the distance, with the deep blue sea beyond, she quite forgot where she actually was, and began to wander in the most enchanting daydreams. But when, as often happened, there came towering thick masses of snowy clouds, like mountain peaks and battlements in the bright blue sky, her delight was so great that she could find no words to express it. At such times--sometimes with Glynn by her side, sometimes alone--she would sit in a sunny nook, or in a shady nook if she felt too warm, and invite innumerable hosts of fairies to come and conduct her through interminable tracts of pure-white cloud region, and order such unheard-of wild creatures (each usually wanting a tail, or a leg, or an ear) to come out of the dark caves, that had they been all collected in one garden for exhibition to the public, that zoological garden would have been deemed, out of sight, the greatest of all the wonders of the world! When a little wearied with those aerial journeys she would return to "Fairyland," and, leaning over the brinks of the pools, peer down into their beautiful depths for hours at a time. Ailie's property of Fairyland had gardens, too, of the richest possible kind, full of flowers of the most lovely and brilliant hues. But the flowers were scentless, and, alas! she could not pluck them, for those gardens were all under water; they grew at the bottom of the sea! Yes, reader, if the land was barren on that ocean islet, the pools there made up for it by presenting to view the most luxuriant marine vegetation. There were forests of branching coral of varied hues; there were masses of fan-shaped sponges; there were groves of green and red sea-weeds; and beds of red, and white, and orange, and striped creatures that stuck to the rocks, besides little fish with bright coloured backs that played there as if they really enjoyed living always under water-- which is not easy for us, you know, to realise! And above all, the medium of water between Ailie and these things was so pure and pellucid when no breeze fanned the surface, that it was difficult to believe, unless you touched it, there was any water there at all. While Ailie thus spent her time, or at least her leisure time, for she was by no means an idler in that busy little isle, the men were actively engaged each day in transporting provisions from the _Red Eric_ to the sandbank, and in making them as secure as circumstances would admit of. For this purpose a raft had been constructed, and several trips a day were made to and from the wreck, so that in the course of a few days a considerable stock of provisions was accumulated on the bank. This was covered with tarpaulin, and heavy casks of salt junk were placed on the corners and edges to keep it down. "I'll tell ye wot it is, messmates," remarked Gurney, one day, as they sat down round their wood fire to dine in front of their tent, "we're purvisioned for six months at least, an' if the weather only keeps fine I've no objection to remain wotiver." "Maybe," said Briant, "ye'll have to remain that time whether ye object or not." "By no means, Paddy," retorted Gurney; "I could swum off to sea and be drownded if I liked." "No ye couldn't, avic," said Briant. "Why not?" demanded Gurney. "'Cause ye haven't the pluck," replied Phil. "I'll pluck the nose off yer face," said Gurney, in affected anger. "No ye won't," cried Phil, "'cause av ye do I'll spile the soup by heavin' it all over ye." "Oh!" exclaimed Gurney, with a look of horror, "listen to him, messmates, he calls it `_soup_'--the nasty kettle o' dirty water! Well, well, it's lucky we hain't got nothin' better to compare it with." "But, I say, lads," interposed Jim Scroggles, seriously, "wot'll we do if it comes on to blow a gale and blows away all our purvisions?" "Ay, boys," cried Dick Barnes, "that 'ere's the question, as Hamlet remarked to his grandfather's ghost; wot is to come on us supposin' it comes on to blow sich a snorin' gale as'll blow the whole sandbank away, carryin' us and our prog overboard along with it?" "Wot's that there soup made of?" demanded Tim Rokens. "Salt junk and peas," replied Nikel Sling. "Ah! I thought there was somethin' else in it," said Tim, carelessly, "for it seems to perdooce oncommon bad jokes in them wot eats of it." "Now, Tim, don't you go for to be sorcostic, but tell us a story." "Me tell a story? No, no, lads; there's Glynn Proctor, he's the boy for you. Where is he?" "He's aboard the wreck just now. The cap'n sent him for charts and quadrants, and suchlike cooriosities. Come, Gurney, tell you one if Tim won't. How wos it, now, that you so mistook yer trade as to come for to go to sea?" "I can't very well tell ye," answered Gurney, who, having finished dinner, had lit his pipe, and was now extended at full length on the sand, leaning on one arm. "Ye see, lads, I've had more or less to do with the sea, I have, since ever I comed into this remarkable world--not that I ever, to my knowledge, knew one less coorous, for I never was up in the stars; no more, I s'pose, was ever any o' you. I was born at sea, d'ye see? I don't 'xactly know how I comed for to be born there, but I wos told that I wos, and if them as told me spoke truth, I s'pose I wos. I was washed overboard in gales three times before I comed for to know myself at all. When I first came alive, so to speak, to my own certain knowledge, I wos a-sitting on the top of a hen-coop aboard an East Indiaman, roarin' like a mad bull as had lost his senses; 'cause why? the hens wos puttin' their heads through the bars o' the coops, and pickin' at the calves o' my legs as fierce as if they'd suddenly turned cannibals, and rather liked it. From that time I began a life o' misery. My life before that had bin pretty much the same, it seems, but I didn't know it, so it didn't matter. D'ye know, lads, when ye don't know a thing it's all the same as if it didn't exist, an' so, in coorse, it don't matter." "Oh!" exclaimed the first mate, who came up at the moment, "'ave hany o' you fellows got a note-book in which we may record that horacular and truly valuable hobserwation?" No one happening to possess a note-book, Gurney was allowed to proceed with his account of himself. "Ships has bin my houses all along up to this here date. I don't believe, lads as ever I wos above two months ashore at a time all the coorse of my life, an' mostly not as long as that. The smell o' tar and the taste o' salt water wos the fust things I iver comed across--'xcept the Line, I comed across that jist about the time I wos born, so I'm told--and the smell o' tar and taste o' salt water's wot I've bin used to most o' my life, and moreover, wot I likes best. One old gentleman as took a fancy to me w'en I wos a boy, said to me, one fine day, w'en I chanced to be ashore visitin' my mother--says he, `My boy, would ye like to go with me and live in the country, and be a gardner?' `Wot,' says I, `keep a garding, and plant taters, and hoe flowers an' cabidges?' `Yes,' says he, `at least, somethin' o' that sort.' `No, thankee,' says I; `I b'long to the sea, I do; I wouldn't leave that 'ere no more nor I would quit my first love if I had one. I'm a sailor, I am, out and out, through and through--true blue, and no mistake, an' no one need go for to try to cause me for to forsake my purfession, and live on shore like a turnip'--that's wot I says to that old gen'lemen. Yes, lads, I've roamed the wide ocean, as the song says, far an' near. I've bin tattooed by the New Zealanders, and I've danced with the Hottentots, and ate puppy dogs with the Chinese, and fished whales in the North Seas, and run among the ice near the South Pole, and fowt with pirates, and done service on boord of men-o'-war and merchantmen, and junks, and bumboats; but I never," concluded Gurney, looking round with a sigh, "I never came for to be located on a sandbank in the middle of the ocean." "No more did any on us," added Rokens, "Moreover, if we're not picked up soon by a ship o' some sort, we're not likely to be located here long, for we can't live on salt junk for ever; we shall all die o' the scurvy." There was just enough of possible and probable truth in the last remark to induce a feeling of sadness among the men for a few minutes, but this was quickly put to flight by the extraordinary movements of Phil Briant. That worthy had left the group round the fire, and had wandered out to the extreme end of the rocky point, where he sat down to indulge, possibly in sad, or mayhap hopeful reflections. He was observed to start suddenly up, and gaze into the sea eagerly for a few seconds; then he cut a caper, slapped his thigh, and ran hastily towards the tent. "What now? where away, Phil?" cried one of the men. Briant answered not, but speedily reappeared at the opening of the tent door with a fishing-line and hook. Hastening to the point of rock, he opened a small species of shell-fish that he found there, wherewith he baited his hook, and then cast it into the sea. In a few minutes he felt a twitch, which caused him to return a remarkably vigorous twitch, as it were in reply. The fish and the sailor for some minutes acted somewhat the part of electricians in a telegraph office; when the fish twitched, Briant twitched; when the fish pulled and paused, Briant pulled and paused, and when the fish held on hard, Briant pulled hard, and finally pulled him ashore, and a very nice plump rock-codling he was. There were plenty of them, so in a short time there was no lack of fresh fish, and Rokens' fear that they would have to live on salt junk was not realised. Fishing for rock-codlings now became one of the chief recreations of the men while not engaged in bringing various necessaries from the wreck. But for many days at first they found their hands fully occupied in making their new abode habitable, in enlarging and improving the tent, which soon by degrees came to merit the name of a hut, and in inventing various ingenious contrivances for the improvement of their condition. It was not until a couple of weeks had passed that time began to hang heavy on their hands and fishing became a general amusement. They all fished, except Jacko. Even Ailie tried it once or twice, but she did not like it and soon gave it up. As for Jacko, he contented himself with fishing with his hands, in a sly way, among the provision casks, at which occupation he was quite an adept; and many a nice tit-bit did he fish up and secrete in his private apartment for future use. Like many a human thief, Jacko was at last compelled to leave the greater part of his ill-gotten and hoarded gains behind him. One day Glynn and Ailie sat by the margin of a deep pool in Fairyland, gazing down into its clear depths. The sun's rays penetrated to the very bottom, revealing a thousand beauties in form and colour that called forth from Ailie the most extravagant expressions of admiration. She wound up one of those eloquent bursts by saying-- "Oh, Glynn, how very, _very_ much I do wish I could go down there and play with the dear, exquisite, darling little fishes!" "You'd surprise them, I suspect," said Glynn. "It's rather too deep a pool to play in unless you were a mermaid." "How deep is it, Glynn?" "'Bout ten feet, I think." "So much? It does not look like it. What a very pretty bit of coral I see over there, close to the white rock; do you see it? It is bright pink. Oh, I would like _so_ much to have it." "Would you?" cried Glynn, jumping up and throwing off his jacket; "then here goes for it." So saying he clasped his hands above his head, and bending forward, plunged into the pool and went straight at the piece of pink coral, head-foremost, like an arrow! Glynn was lightly clad. His costume consisted simply of a pair of white canvas trousers and a blue striped shirt, with a silk kerchief round his neck, so that his movements in the water were little, if at all, impeded by his clothes. At the instant he plunged into the water King Bumble happened to approach, and while Ailie stood, petrified with fear as she saw Glynn struggling violently at the bottom of the pool, her sable companion stood looking down with a grin from ear to ear that displayed every one of his white teeth. "Don't be 'fraid, Missie Ally," said the negro; "him's know wot him's doin', ho yis!" Before Ailie could reply, Glynn was on the surface spluttering and brushing the hair from his forehead with one hand, while with the other he hugged to his breast the piece of pink coral. "Here--it--ha!--is. My breath--oh--is a'most gone--Ailie--catch hold!" cried he, as he held out the coveted piece of rock to the child, and scrambled out of the pool. "Oh, thank you, Glynn; but why did you go down so quick and stay so long? I got _such_ a fright." "You bin pay your 'spects to de fishes," said Bumble, with a grin. "Yes, I have, Bumble, and they say that if you stare at them any longer with your great goggle eyes they'll all go mad with horror and die right off. Have you caught any codlings, Bumble?" "Yis, me hab, an' me hab come for to make a preeposol to Missie Ally." "A what, Bumble?" "A preeposol--a digestion." "I suppose you mean a suggestion, eh?" "Yis, dat the berry ting." "Well, out with it." "Dis am it. Me ketch rock-coddles; well, me put 'em in bucket ob water an' bring 'em to you, Missie Ally, an' you put 'em into dat pool and tame 'em, an' hab great fun with 'em. Eeh! wot you tink?" "Oh, it will be _so_ nice. How good of you to think about it, Bumble; do get them as quick as you can." Bumble looked grave and hesitated. "Why, what's wrong?" inquired Glynn. "Oh, noting. Me only tink me not take the trouble to put 'em into dat pool where de fishes speak so imperently ob me. Stop, me will go an' ask if dey sorry for wot dey hab say." So saying the negro uttered a shout, sprang straight up into the air, doubled his head down and his heels up, and cleft the water like a knife. Glynn uttered a cry something between a yell and a laugh, and sprang after him, falling flat on the water and dashing the whole pool into foam, and there the two wallowed about like two porpoises, to the unbounded delight of Ailie, who stood on the brink laughing until the tears ran down her cheeks, and to the unutterable horror, no doubt, of the little fish. The rock-codlings were soon caught and transferred to the pool, in which, after that, neither Glynn nor Bumble were suffered to dive or swim, and Ailie succeeded, by means of regularly feeding them, in making the little fish less afraid of her than they were at first. But while Ailie and Glynn were thus amusing themselves and trying to make the time pass as pleasantly as possible, Captain Dunning was oppressed with the most anxious forebodings. They had now been several weeks on the sandbank. The weather had, during that time, been steadily fine and calm, and their provisions were still abundant, but he knew that this could not last. Moreover, he found on consulting his charts that he was far out of the usual course of ships, and that deliverance could only be expected in the shape of a chance vessel. Oppressed with these thoughts, which, however, he carefully concealed from every one except Tim Rokens and the doctor, the captain used to go on the point of rocks every day and sit there for hours, gazing out wistfully over the sea. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. MATTERS GROW WORSE AND WORSE--THE MUTINY--COMMENCEMENT OF BOAT-BUILDING, AND THREATENING STORMS. One afternoon, about three weeks after the _Red Eric_ had been wrecked on the sandbank, Captain Dunning went out on the point of rocks, and took up his accustomed position there. Habit had now caused him to go to the point with as much regularity as a sentinel. But on the present occasion anxiety was more deeply marked on his countenance than usual, for dark, threatening clouds were seen accumulating on the horizon, an unnatural stillness prevailed in the hot atmosphere and on the glassy sea, and everything gave indication of an approaching storm. While he sat on a low rock, with his elbows on his knees, and his chin resting in his hands, he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and looking round, found Ailie standing by his side. Catching her in his arms, he pressed her fervently to his heart, and for the first time spoke to her in discouraging tones. "My own darling," said he, parting the hair from her forehead, and gazing at the child with an expression of the deepest sadness, "I fear we shall _never_ quit this dreary spot." Ailie looked timidly in her father's face, for his agitated manner, more than his words, alarmed her. "Won't we leave it, dear papa," said she, "to go up yonder?" and she pointed to a gathering mass of clouds overhead, which, although heavy with dark shadows, had still a few bright, sunny points of resemblance to the fairy realms in which she delighted to wander in her daydreams. The captain made no reply; but, shutting his eyes, and drawing Ailie close to his side, he uttered a long and fervent prayer to God for deliverance, if He should see fit, or for grace to endure with Christian resignation and fortitude whatever He pleased to send upon them. When he concluded, and again looked up, Dr Hopley was standing beside them, with his head bowed upon his breast. "I fear, doctor," said the captain, "that I have broken my resolution not to alarm my dear Ailie by word or look. Yet why should I conceal from her the danger of our position? Her prayers for help ought to ascend, as well as ours, to Him who alone can deliver us from evil at any time, but who makes us to _feel_, as well as _know_, the fact at such times as these." "But I am not afraid, papa," said Ailie quickly. "I'm never afraid when you are by me; and I've known we were in danger all along, for I've heard everybody talking about it often and often, and I've _always_ prayed for deliverance, and surely it must come; for has not Jesus said if we ask anything in His name He will give it to us?" "True, darling; but He means only such things as will do us good." "Of course, papa, if I asked for a bad thing, I would not expect Him to give me that." "Deliverance from death," said the doctor, "is a good thing, yet we cannot be sure that God will grant our prayer for that." "There are worse things than death, doctor," replied the captain; "it may be sometimes better for men to die than to live. It seems to me that we ought to use the words, `if it please the Lord,' more frequently than we do in prayer. Deliverance from sin needs no such `if,' but deliverance from death does." At this point the conversation was interrupted by Tim Rokens, who came up to the captain, and said respectfully-- "If ye please, sir, it 'ud be as well if ye wos to speak to the men; there's somethin' like mutiny a-goin' on, I fear." "Mutiny! why, what about?" "It's about the spirits. Some on 'em says as how they wants to enjoy theirselves here as much as they can, for they won't have much chance o' doin' so ashore any more. It's my belief that fellow Tarquin's at the bottom o't." "There's not much spirits aboard the wreck to fight about," said the captain, somewhat bitterly, as they all rose, and hurried towards the hut. "I only brought a supply for medicine; but it must not be touched, however little there is." When the captain came up, he found the space in front of their rude dwelling a scene of contention and angry dispute that bade fair to end in a fight. Tarquin was standing before the first mate, with his knife drawn, and using violent language and gesticulations towards him, while the latter stood by the raft, grasping a handspike, with which he threatened to knock the steward down if he set foot on it. The men were grouped round them, some with looks that implied a desire to side with Tarquin, while others muttered "Shame!" "Shame!" cried Tarquin, looking fiercely round on his shipmates, "who cried shame? We're pretty sure all on us to be starved to death on this reef; and it's my opinion, that since we haven't got to live long, we should try to enjoy ourselves as much as we can. There's not much spirits aboard, more's the pity; but what there is I shall have. So again I say, who cried `Shame?'" "I did," said Glynn Proctor, stepping quickly forward; "and I invite all who think with me to back me up." "Here ye are, me boy," said Phil Briant, starting forward, and baring his brawny arms, as was his invariable custom in such circumstances. "It's meself as'll stick by ye, lad, av the whole crew should go with that half-caste crokidile." Gurney and Dick Barnes immediately sided with Glynn also, but Jim Scroggles and Nikel Sling, and, to the surprise of every one, Markham, the second mate, sided with the steward. As the opposing parties glanced at each other, Glynn observed that, although his side was superior in numbers, some of the largest and most powerful men of the crew were among his opponents, and he felt that a conflict between such men must inevitably be serious. Matters had almost come to a crisis when Dr Hopley and the captain approached the scene of action. The latter saw at a glance the state of affairs, and stepping up to the steward, ordered him at once into the hut. Tarquin seemed to waver for a moment under the stern gaze of his commander; but he suddenly swore a terrible oath, and said that he would not obey. "You're no longer in command of us," he said gruffly, "now that you have lost your ship. Every man may do what he pleases." "May he?" replied the captain; "then it pleases me to do that!" and, launching out his clenched right hand with all his might, he hit the steward therewith right between the eyes. Tarquin went down as if he had been shot, and lay stunned and at full length upon the sand. "Now, my lads," cried the captain, turning towards the men, "what he said just now is so far right. Having lost my ship, I am no longer entitled to command you; but my command does not cease unless a majority of you choose that it should. Tarquin has taken upon himself to decide the question, without asking your opinion, which amounts to mutiny, and mutiny, under the circumstances in which we are placed, requires to be promptly dealt with. I feel it right to say this, because I am a man of peace, as you well know, and do not approve of a too ready appeal to the fists for the settlement of a dispute." "Ah, then, more's the pity!" interrupted Briant, "for ye use them oncommon well." A suppressed laugh followed this remark. "Silence, men, this is no time for jesting. One of our shipmates has, not long since, been taken suddenly from us; it may be that we shall all of us be called into the presence of our Maker before many days pass over us. We have much to do that will require to be done promptly and well, if we would hope to be delivered at all, and the question must be decided _now_ whether I am to command you, or every one is to do what he pleases." "I votes for Cap'en Dunning," exclaimed Gurney. "So does I," cried Jim Scroggles; who, being somewhat weather-cockish in his nature, turned always with wonderful facility to the winning side. "Three cheers for the cap'en," cried Dick Barnes, suiting the action to the word. Almost every voice joined in the vociferous cheer with which this proposal was received. "An' wan more for Miss Ailie," shouted Phil Briant. Even Jacko lent his voice to the tremendous cheer that followed, for Briant in his energy chanced to tread on that creature's unfortunate tail, which always seemed to be in his own way as well as in that of every one else, and the shriek that he uttered rang high above the laughter into which the cheer degenerated, as some one cried, "Ah, Pat, trust you, my boy, for rememberin' the ladies!" Order having been thus happily restored, and Captain Dunning having announced that the late attempt at mutiny should thenceforth be buried in total oblivion, a council was called, in order to consider seriously their present circumstances, and to devise, if possible, some means of escape. "My lads," said the captain, when they were all assembled, "I've been ponderin' over matters ever since we were cast away on this bank, an' I've at last come to the conclusion that our only chance of gettin' away is to build a small boat and fit her out for a long voyage. I need not tell you that this chance is a poor one--well-nigh a forlorn hope. Had it been better I would have spoken before now, and began the work sooner; but I have lived from day to day in the hope of a ship heaving in sight. This is a vain hope. We are far out of the usual track of all ships here. None come this way, except such as may chance to be blown out of their course, as we were; and even if one did come within sight, it's ten chances to one that we should fail to attract attention on such a low bank as this. "I've had several reliable observations of late, and I find that we are upwards of two thousand miles from the nearest known land, which is the Cape of Good Hope. I propose, therefore, that we should strip off as much of the planking of the wreck as will suit our purpose, get the carpenter's chest landed, and commence work at once. Now, what say you? If anyone has a better plan to suggest, I'll be only to glad to adopt it, for such a voyage in so slim a craft as we can build here will be one necessarily replete with danger." "I'll tell ye wot it is, cap'en," said Tim Rokens, rising up, taking off his cap, and clearing his throat, as if he were about to make a studied oration. "We've not none on us got no suggestions to make wotsomdiver. You've only got to give the word and we'll go to work; an' the sooner you does so the better, for it's my b'lief we'll have a gale afore long that'll pretty well stop work altogether as long as it lasts." The indications in the sky gave such ample testimony to the justness of Rokens' observations that no more time was wasted in discussion. Dick Barnes, who acted the part of ship's carpenter when not otherwise engaged, went out to the wreck on the raft, with a party of men under command of Mr Millons, to fetch planking and the necessary material for the construction of a boat, while the remainder of the crew, under the captain's superintendence, prepared a place near Fairyland for laying the keel. This spot was selected partly on account of the convenient formation of the shore for the launching of the boat when finished, and partly because that would be the lee side of the rocky point when the coming storm should burst. For the latter reason the hut was removed to Fairyland, and poor Ailie had the mortification in a few hours of seeing her little paradise converted into an unsightly wreck of confusion. Alas! how often this is the case in human affairs of greater moment; showing the folly of setting our hearts on the things of earth. It seems at first sight a hard passage, that, in the Word of God. "What?" the enthusiastic but thoughtless are ready to exclaim, "not love the world! the bright, beautiful world that was made by God to be enjoyed? Not love our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives? not give our warmest affections to all these?" Truly, ye hasty ones, if you would but earnestly consider it, you would find that God not only permits, but requires us to love all that is good and beautiful here, as much as we will, as much as we can; but we ought to love Himself _more_. If this be our happy condition, then our hearts are not "set on the world"; on the contrary, they are set free to love the world and all that is lovable in it--of which there is very, very much--more, probably than the best of men suppose. Else, wherefore does the Father love it and care for it so tenderly? But Ailie had not set her heart on her possessions on the sandbank. She felt deep regret for a time, it is true, and in feeling thus she indulged a right and natural impulse, but that impulse did not lead to the sin of murmuring. Her sorrow soon passed away, and she found herself as cheerful and happy afterwards in preparing for her long, long voyage as ever she had been in watching the gambols of her fish, or in admiring the lovely hues of the weeds and coral rocks in the limpid pools of Fairyland. It was a fortunate circumstance that Captain Dunning set about the preparations for building the boat that afternoon, for the storm burst upon them sooner than had been expected, and long before all the requisite stores and materials had been rafted from the wreck. The most important things, however, had been procured--such as the carpenter's chest, a large quantity of planking, oakum, and cordage, and several pieces of sail cloth, with the requisite thread and needles for making boat sails. Still, much was wanting when the increasing violence of the wind compelled them to leave off work. Some of the men were now ordered to set about securing such materials as had been collected, while others busied themselves in fixing ropes to the hut and rolling huge masses of coral rock against its fragile walls to steady it. "Av ye plaze, sir," said Briant to the Captain, wiping his forehead as he approached with a lump of tarry canvas which he used in default of a better pocket-handkerchief, "av ye plaze, sir, wot'll I do now?" "Do something useful, lad, whatever you do," said the captain, looking up from the hole which he was busily engaged in digging for the reception of a post to steady the hut. "There's lots of work; you can please yourself as to choice." "Then I comed fur to suggist that the purvisions and things a-top o' the sandbank isn't quite so safe as they might be." "True, Briant; I was just thinking of that as you came up. Go and see you make a tight job of it. Get Rokens to help you." Briant hurried off, and calling his friend, walked with him to the top of the sandbank, leaning heavily against the gale, and staggering as they went. The blast now whistled so that they could scarcely hear each other talk. "We'll be blowed right into the sea," shouted Tim, as the two reached a pile of casks and cases. "Sure, that's me own belaif entirely," roared his companion. "What d'ye say to dig a hole and stick the things in it?" yelled Rokens. "We're not fit," screamed Phil. "Let's try," shrieked the other. To this Briant replied by falling on his knees on the lee side of the goods, and digging with his hands in the sand most furiously. Tim Rokens followed his example, and the two worked like a couple of sea-moles (if such creatures exist) until a hole capable of holding several casks was formed. Into this they stowed all the biscuit casks and a few other articles, and covered them up with sand. The remainder they covered with tarpaulin, and threw sand and stones above it until the heap was almost buried out of sight. This accomplished, they staggered back to the hut as fast as they could. Here they found everything snugly secured, and as the rocks effectually sheltered the spot from the gale, with the exception of an occasional eddying blast that drove the sand in their faces, they felt comparatively comfortable. Lighting their pipes, they sat down among their comrades to await the termination of the storm. CHAPTER NINETEEN. THE STORM. A storm in almost all circumstances is a grand and solemnising sight, one that forces man to feel his own weakness and his Maker's might and majesty. But a storm at sea in southern latitudes, where the winds are let loose with a degree of violence that is seldom or never experienced in the temperate zones, is so terrific that no words can be found to convey an adequate idea of its appalling ferocity. The storm that at this time burst upon the little sandbank on which the shipwrecked crew had found shelter, was one of the most furious, perhaps, that ever swept the seas. The wind shrieked as if it were endued with life, tore up the surface of the groaning deep into masses and shreds of foam, which it whirled aloft in mad fury, and then dissipated into a thin blinding mist that filled the whole atmosphere, so that one could scarcely see a couple of yards beyond the spot on which he stood. The hurricane seemed to have reached its highest point soon after sunset that night, and a ray of light from the moon struggled ever and anon through the black hurtling clouds, as if to reveal to the cowering seamen the extreme peril of their situation. The great ocean was lashed into a wide sheet of foam, and the presence of the little isle in the midst of that swirling waste of water was indicated merely by a slight circle of foam that seemed whiter than the rest of the sea. The men sat silently in their frail hut, listening to the howling blast without. A feeling of awe crept over the whole party, and the most careless and the lightest of heart among the crew of the _Red Eric_ ceased to utter his passing jest, and became deeply solemnised as the roar of the breakers filled his ear, and reminded him that a thin ledge of rock alone preserved him from instant destruction. "The wind has shifted a point," said the captain, who had just risen and opened a chink of the rude door of the hut in order to look out. "I see that the keel of the boat is all fast and the planking beside it. The coral rock shelters it just now; but if the wind goes on shifting I fear it will stand a poor chance." "We'd better go out and give it a hextra fastening," suggested Mr Millons. "Not yet. There's no use of exposing any of the men to the risk of being blown away. The wind may keep steady, in which case I've no fear for it." "I dun know," said Rokens, who sat beside Ailie, close to the embers of their fire, with a glowing cinder from which he re-lighted his pipe for at least the twentieth time that night. "You never can tell wot's a-goin' to turn up. I'll go out, cap'en, if ye like, and see that all's fast." "Perhaps you're right, Tim; you may make a bolt across to it, and heave another rock or two on the planking if it seems to require it." The seaman rose, and putting aside his pipe, threw off his coat, partly in order that he might present as small a surface to the wind as possible, and partly that he might have a dry garment to put on when he returned. As he opened the little door of the hut a rude gust of wind burst in, filling the apartment with spray, and scattering the embers of the fire. "I feared as much," said the captain, as he and the men started up to gather together the pieces of glowing charcoal; "that shows the wind's shifted another point; if it goes round two points more it'll smash our boat to pieces. Look sharp, Tim." "Lean well against the wind, me boy," cried Briant, in a warning voice. Thus admonished, Rokens issued forth, and dashed across the open space that separated the hut from the low ledge of coral rock behind which the keel of the intended boat and its planking were sheltered. A very few minutes sufficed to show Tim that all was fast, and to enable him to place a few additional pieces of rock above the heap in order to keep it down. Then he prepared to dart back again to the hut, from the doorway of which his proceedings, were watched by the captain and as many of the men as could crowd round it. Just as the harpooner sprang from the shelter of the rock the blast burst upon the bank with redoubled fury, as if it actually were a sentient being, and wished to catch the sailor in its rude grasp and whirl him away. Rokens bent his stout frame against it with all his might, and stood his ground for a few seconds like a noble tree on some exposed mountain side that has weathered the gales of centuries. Then he staggered, threw his arms wildly in the air, and a moment after was swept from the spot and lost to view in the driving spray that flew over the island. The thing was so instantaneous that the horrified onlookers could scarcely credit the evidence of their eyes, and they stood aghast for a moment or two ere their feelings found vent in a cry of alarm. Next instant Captain Dunning felt himself rudely pushed aside, and Briant leaped through the doorway, shouting, as he dashed out-- "If Tim Rokens goes, it's Phil Briant as'll go along with him." The enthusiastic Irishman was immediately lost to view, and Glynn Proctor was about to follow, when the captain seized him by the collar, dragged him back, and shut the door violently. "Keep back, lads," he cried, "no one must leave the hut. If these two men cannot save themselves by means of their own strong muscles, no human power can save them." Glynn, and indeed all of the men, felt this remark to be true, so they sat down round the fire, and looked in each other's faces with the expression of men who half believed they must be dreaming. Little was said during the next ten or fifteen minutes; indeed, it was difficult to make their voices heard, owing to the noise of the wind and dashing waves. The captain stood at the door, looking out from time to time with feelings of the deepest anxiety, each moment expecting to see the two sailors struggling back towards the hut; but they did not return. Soon the gale increased to such a degree that every one felt, although no one would acknowledge it even to himself, that there was now no hope of their comrades ever returning. The wind shifted another point; and now their lost shipmates were for a time forgotten in the anxieties of their own critical position, for their rocky ledge formed only a partial shelter, and every now and then the hut was shaken with a blast so terrible that it threatened to come down about their ears. "Don't you think our house will fall, dear papa?" inquired Ailie, as a gust more furious than any that had hitherto passed swept round the rocks, and shook the hut as if it had been made of pasteboard. "God knows, my darling; we are in His hands." Ailie tried to comfort herself with the thought that her Heavenly Father was indeed the ruler of the storm, and could prevent it from doing them harm if He pleased; but as gust after gust dashed against the frail building, and almost shook it down, while the loud rattling of the boards which composed it almost stunned her, an irresistible feeling of alarm crept over her, despite her utmost efforts to control herself. The captain now ordered the men to go out and see that the fastenings to windward and the supports to leeward of the hut remained firm, and to add more of them if possible. He set the example by throwing off his coat and leading the way. This duty was by no means so difficult or dangerous as that which had been previously performed by Rokens, for it must be remembered the hut as yet was only exposed to partial gusts of eddying wind, not to the full violence of the storm. It involved a thorough wetting, however, to all who went. In ten minutes the men re-entered, and put on their dry coats, but as no one knew how soon he might again be called upon to expose himself, none thought of changing his other garments. "Now, Ailie, my pet," said Captain Dunning, sitting down beside his child on the sandy floor of the hut, "we've done all we can. If the wind remains as it is our house will stand." "But have you not seen Rokens or Briant?" inquired Ailie with an anxious face, while the tears rolled over her cheeks. The captain shook his head, but made no reply, and the men looked earnestly at each other, as if each sought to gather a ray of hope from the countenance of his friend. While they sat thus, a terrible blast shook the hut to its foundation. Again and again it came with ever-increasing violence, and then it burst on them with a continuous roar like prolonged thunder. "Look out," cried the captain, instinctively clasping Ailie in his arms, while the men sprang to their feet. The stout corner-posts bent over before the immense pressure, and the second mate placed his shoulder against one of those on the windward side of the hut, while Dick Barnes and Nikel Sling did the same to the other. "It's all up with us," cried Tarquin, as part of the roof blew off, and a deluge of water and spray burst in upon them, extinguishing the fire and leaving them in total darkness. At that moment Ailie felt herself seized round the waist by a pair of tiny arms, and putting down her hand, she felt that Jacko was clinging to her with a tight but trembling grasp. Even in that hour of danger, the child experienced a sensation of pleasure at the mere thought that there was one living creature there which looked up to and clung to her for protection; and although she knew full well that if the stout arm of her father which encircled her were removed, her own strength, in their present circumstances, could not have availed to protect herself, yet she felt a gush of renewed strength and courage at her heart when the poor little monkey put its trembling arms around her. "Lay your shoulders to the weather-wall, lads," cried the captain, as another rush of wind bore down in the devoted hut. The men obeyed, but their united strength availed nothing against the mighty power that raged without. The wind, as the captain had feared, went round another point, and they were now exposed to the unbroken force of the hurricane. For a few minutes the stout corner-posts of the hut held up, then they began to rend and crack. "Bear down with the blast to the lee of the rocks, lads," cried the captain; "it's your only chance; don't try to face it." Almost before the words left his lips the posts snapped with a loud crash; the hut was actually lifted off the ground by the wind, and swept completely away, while most of the men were thrown violently to the ground by the wreck as it passed over their heads. The captain fell like the rest, but he retained his grasp of Ailie, and succeeded in rising, and as the gale carried him away with irresistible fury he bore firmly down to his right, and gained the eddy caused by the rocks which until now had sheltered the hut. He was safe; but he did not feel secure until he had staggered towards the most sheltered part, and placed his child in a cleft of the rock. Here he found Gurney and Tarquin before him, and soon after Glynn came staggering in, along with one or two others. In less than three minutes after the hut had been blown away, all the men were collected in the cleft, where they crouched down to avoid the pelting, pitiless spray that dashed over their heads. It is difficult to conceive a more desperate position than that in which they were now placed, yet there and at that moment a thrill of joy passed through the hearts of most, if not all of them, for they heard a shout which was recognised to be the voice of Tim Rokens. It came from the rocks a few yards to their right, and almost ere it had died away, Rokens himself staggered into the sheltering cleft of rock, accompanied by Phil Briant. Some of the men who had faced the dangers to which they had been exposed with firm nerves and unblanched cheeks, now grew pale, and trembled violently, for they actually believed that the spirits of their lost shipmates had come to haunt them. But these superstitious fears were soon put to flight by the hearty voice of the harpooner, who shook himself like a great Newfoundland dog as he came up, and exclaimed-- "Why, wot on airth has brought ye all here?" "I think we may say, what has brought _you_ here?" replied the captain, as he grasped them each by the hand and shook them with as much energy as if he had not met them for ten years past. "It's aisy to tell that," said Briant, as he crouched down in the midst of the group; "Tim and me wos blow'd right across the bank, an' we should no doubt ha' bin blow'd right into the sea, but Tim went full split agin one o' the casks o' salt junk, and I went slap agin _him_, and we lay for a moment all but dead. Then we crep' in the lee o' the cask, an' lay there till a lull came, when we clapped on all sail, an' made for the shelter o' the rocks, an' shure we got there niver a taste too soon, for it came on to blow the next minit, fit to blow the eyelids off yer face, it did." "It's a fact," added Rokens. "Moreover, we tried to git round to the hut, but as we wos twice nearly blowed away w'en we tried for to double the point, we 'greed to stay where we wos till the back o' the gale should be broke. But, now, let's hear wot's happened." "The hut's gone," said Gurney, in reply. "Blowed clean over our heads to--I dun know where." "Blowed away?" cried Rokens and Briant, in consternation. "Not a stick left," replied the captain. "An' the boat?" inquired Briant. "It's gone too, I fancy; but we can't be sure." "Then it's all up, boys," observed Briant; "for nearly every morsel o' the prog that wos on the top o' the bank is washed away." This piece of news fell like a thunderbolt on the men, and no one spoke for some minutes. At last the captain said-- "Well, lads, we must do the best we can. Thank God, we are still alive; so let us see whether we can't make our present quarters more comfortable." Setting his men the example, Captain Dunning began to collect the few boards, and bits of canvas that chanced to have been left on that side of the rocky ledge when the hut was removed to the other side, and with these materials a very partial and insufficient shelter was put up. But the space thus inclosed was so small that they were all obliged to huddle together in a mass. Those farthest from the rock were not altogether protected from the spray that flew over their heads, while those nearest to it were crushed and incommoded by their companions. Thus they passed that eventful night and all the following day, during which the storm raged with such fury that no one dared venture out to ascertain how much, if any, of their provisions and stores were left to them. During the second night, a perceptible decrease in the violence of the gale took place, and before morning it ceased altogether. The sun rose in unclouded splendour, sending its bright and warm beams up into the clear blue sky and down upon the ocean, which glittered vividly as it still swelled and trembled with agitation. All was serene and calm in the sky, while below the only sound that broke upon the ear was the deep and regular dash of the great breakers that fell upon the shores of the islet, and encircled it with a fringe of purest white. On issuing from their confined uneasy nest in the cleft of the rock, part of the shipwrecked crew hastened anxiously to the top of the bank to see how much of their valuable store of food was left, while others ran to the spot in Fairyland where the keel of the new boat had been laid. The latter party found to their joy that all was safe, everything having been well secured; but a terrible sight met the eyes of the other men. Not a vestige of all their store remained! The summit of the sandbank was as smooth as on the day they landed there. Casks, boxes, barrels--all were gone; everything had been swept away into the sea! Almost instinctively the men turned their eyes towards the reef on which the _Red Eric_ had grounded, each man feeling that in the wrecked vessel all his hope now remained. It, too, was gone! The spot on which it had lain was now washed by the waves, and a few broken planks and spars on the beach were all that remained to remind them of their ocean home! The men looked at each other with deep despondency expressed in their countenances. They were haggard and worn from exposure, anxiety, and want of rest; and as they stood there in their wet, torn garments, they looked the very picture of despair. "There's one chance for us yet, lads," exclaimed Tim Rokens, looking carefully round the spot on which they stood. "What's that?" exclaimed several of the men eagerly, catching at their comrade's words as drowning men are said to catch at straws. "Briant an' me buried some o' the things, by good luck, when we were sent to make all snug here, an' I'm of opinion they'll be here yet, if we could only find the place. Let me see." Rokens glanced round at the rocks beside which their hut had found shelter, and at the reef where the ship had been wrecked, in order to find the "bearin's o' the spot," as he expressed it. Then walking a few yards to one side, he struck his foot on the sand and said, "It should be hereabouts." The blow of his heel returned a peculiar hollow sound, very unlike that produced by stamping on the mere sand. "Shure ye've hit the very spot, ye have," cried Briant, falling on his knees beside the place; and scraping up the sand with both hands. "It sounds uncommon like a bread-cask. Here it is. Hurrah! boys, lind a hand, will ye. There now, heave away; but trate it tinderly! Shure it's the only friend we've got in the wide world." "You're all wrong, Phil," cried Gurney, who almost at the same moment began to scrape another hole close by. "It's not our only one; here's another friend o' the same family. Bear a hand, lads!" "And here's another!" cried Ailie, with a little scream of delight, as she observed the rim of a small keg just peeping out above the sand. "Well done, Ailie," cried Glynn, as he ran to the spot and quickly dug up the keg in question, which, however, proved to be full of nails, to Ailie's great disappointment, for she expected it to have turned out a keg of biscuits. "How many casks did you bury?" inquired the captain. "It's meself can't tell," replied Briant; "d'ye know, Tim?" "Three, I think; but we was in sich a hurry that I ain't sartin exactly." "Well, then, boys, look here!" continued the captain, drawing a pretty large circle on the sand, "set to work like a band of moles an' dig up every inch o' that till you come to the water." "That's your sort," cried Rokens, plunging elbow-deep into the sand at once. "Arrah! then, here's at ye; a fair field an' no favour at any price," shouted Briant, baring his arms, straddling his legs, and sending a shower of sand behind him that almost overwhelmed Gurney, before that stout little individual could get out of the way. The spirits of the men were farther rejoiced by the coming up of the other party, bearing the good news that the keel of the boat was safe, as well as all her planking and the carpenter's tools, which fortunately happened to have been secured in a sheltered spot. From the depths of despair they were all suddenly raised to renewed and sanguine hope, so that they wrought with the energy of gold-diggers, and soon their toil was rewarded by the discovery of that which, in their circumstances, they would not have exchanged for all the golden nuggets that ever were or will be dug up from the prolific mines of Australia, California, or British Columbia, namely, three casks of biscuit, a small keg of wine, a cask of fresh water, a roll of tobacco, and a barrel of salt junk. CHAPTER TWENTY. PREPARATIONS FOR A LONG VOYAGE--BRIANT PROVES THAT GHOSTS CAN DRINK-- JACKO ASTONISHES HIS FRIENDS, AND SADDENS HIS ADOPTED MOTHER. "Wot _I_ say is one thing; wot _you_ say is another--so it is. I dun know w'ich is right, or w'ich is wrong--no more do you. P'raps you is, p'raps I is; anywise we can't both on us be right or both on us be wrong--that's a comfort, if it's nothin' else. Wot _you_ say is--that it's morally imposs'ble for a crew sich as us to travel over two thousand miles of ocean on three casks o' biscuit and a barrel o' salt junk. Wot _I_ say is--that we can, an', moreover, that morals has nothin' to do with it wotsomediver. Now, wot then?" Tim Rokens paused and looked at Gurney, to whom his remarks were addressed, as if he expected an answer. That rotund little seaman did not, however, appear to be thoroughly prepared to reply to "wot then," for he remained silent, but looked at his comrade as though to say, "I'll be happy to learn wisdom from your sagacious lips." "Wot then?" repeated Tim Rokens, assaulting his knee with his clenched fist in a peculiarly emphatic manner; "I'll tell ye wot then, as you may be right and I may be right, an' nother on us can be both right or wrong, I say as how that we don't know nothin' about it." Gurney looked as if he did not quite approve of so summary a method of solving such a knotty question, but observing from the expression of Rokens' countenance that, though he had paused, that philosopher had not yet concluded, he remained silent. "An', furthermore," continued Tim, "it's my opinion--seein' that we're both on us in such a state o' cumblebofubulation, an' don't know nothin'--we'd better go an' ax the cap'en, who does." "_You_ may save yourselves the trouble," observed Glynn Proctor, who at that moment came up and sat down on the rocks beside them, with a piece of the salt junk that formed an element in the question at issue, in his hand-- "I've just heard the captain give his opinion on that subject, and he says that the boat can be got ready in a week or less, and that, with strict economy, the provisions we have will last us long enough to enable us to make the Cape, supposing we have good weather and fair winds. That's _his_ opinion." "I told ye so," said Tim Rokens. "You did nothin' o' the sort," retorted Gurney. "Well, if ye come fur to be oncommon strick in the use o' your lingo, I did _not_ 'xactly tell ye so, but I _thought_ so, w'ich is all the same." "It ain't all the same," replied Gurney, whose temper seemed to have been a little soured by the prospects before him, "and you don't need to go for to be talkin' there like a great Solon as you are." "Wot's a Solon?" inquired Tim. "Solon was a man as thought his-self a great feelosopher, but he worn't, he wor an ass." "If I'm like Solon," retorted Rokens, "you're like a Solon-goose, w'ich is an animal as _don't_ think itself an ass, 'cause its too great a one to know it." Having thus floored his adversary, the philosophic mariner turned to Glynn and said-- "In course we can't expect to be on full allowance." "Of course not, old boy; the captain remarked, just as I left him, that we'd have to be content with short allowance--very short allowance indeed." Gurney sighed deeply. "How much?" inquired Tim. "About three ounces of biscuit, one ounce of salt junk, and a quarter of a pint of water per day." Gurney groaned aloud. "You, of all men," said Glynn, "have least reason to complain, Gurney, for you've got fat enough on your own proper person to last you a week at least!" "Ay, a fortnight, or more," added Rokens; "an' even then ye'd scarcely be redooced to a decent size." "Ah, but," pleaded Gurney, "you scarecrow creatures don't know how horrid sore the process o' comin' down is. An' one gets so cold, too. It's just like taking off yer clo's." "Sarves ye right for puttin' on so many," said Rokens, as he rose to resume work, which he and Gurney had left off three-quarters of an hour before, in order to enjoy a quiet, philosophical _tete-a-tete_ during dinner. "It's a bad business, that of the planking not being sufficient to deck or even half-deck the boat," observed Glynn, as they went together towards the place where the new boat was being built. "It is," replied Rokens; "but it's a good thing that we've got plenty of canvas to spare. It won't make an overly strong deck, to be sure; but it's better than nothin'." "A heavy sea would burst it in no time," remarked Gurney. "We must hope to escape heavy seas, then," said Glynn, as they parted, and went to their several occupations. The boat that was now building with the most urgent despatch, had a keel of exactly twenty-three feet long, and her breadth, at the widest part, was seven feet. She was being as well and firmly put together as the materials at their command would admit of, and, as far as the work had yet proceeded, she bid fair to become an excellent boat, capable of containing the whole crew, and their small quantity of provisions. This last was diminishing so rapidly, that Captain Dunning resolved to put all hands at once on short allowance. Notwithstanding this, the men worked hard and hopefully; for, as each plank and nail was added to their little bark, they felt as if they were a step nearer home. The captain and the doctor, however, and one or two of the older men, could not banish from their minds the fact that the voyage they were about to undertake was of the most perilous nature, and one which, in any other than the hopeless circumstances in which they were placed at that time, would have been regarded as the most desperate of forlorn hopes. For fourteen souls to be tossed about on the wide and stormy sea, during many weeks, it might be months, in a small open boat, crowded together and cramped, without sufficient covering, and on short allowance of food, was indeed a dreary prospect, even for the men--how much more so for the delicate child who shared their trials and sufferings? Captain Dunning's heart sank within him when he thought of it; but he knew how great an influence the conduct and bearing of a commander has, in such circumstances, on his men; so he strove to show a smiling, cheerful countenance, though oftentimes he carried a sad and anxious heart in his bosom. To the doctor and Tim Rokens alone did he reveal his inmost thoughts, because he knew that he could trust them, and felt that he needed their advice and sympathy. The work progressed so rapidly, that in a few days more the boat approached completion, and preparations were being made in earnest for finally quitting the little isle on which they had found a home for so many days. It was observed by the captain that as the work of boat-building drew to a close, Glynn Proctor continued to labour long after the others had retired to rest, wearied with the toils of the day--toils which they were not now so well able to bear as heretofore, on account of the slight want of vigour caused by being compelled to live on half allowance. One evening the captain went down to the building yard in Fairyland, and said to Glynn-- "Hallo, my boy! at it yet? Why, what are you making? A dog-kennel, eh?" "No; not exactly that," replied Glynn, laughing. "You'll hardly guess." "I would say it was a house for Jacko, only it seems much too big." "It's just possible that Jacko may have a share in it," said Glynn; "but it's not for him." "Who, then? Not for yourself, surely!" "It's for Ailie," cried Glynn gleefully. "Don't you think it will be required?" he added, looking up, as if he half feared the captain would not permit his contrivance to be used. "Well, I believe it will, my boy. I had intended to get some sort of covering for my dear Ailie put up in the stern-sheets; but I did not think of absolutely making a box for her." "Ah, you'll find it will be a capital thing at nights. I know she could never stand the exposure, and canvas don't keep out the rain well; so I thought of rigging up a large box, into which she can creep. I'll make air-holes in the roof that will let in air, but not water; and I'll caulk the seams with oakum, so as to keep it quite dry inside." "Thank you, my boy, it's very kind of you to take so much thought for my poor child. Yet she deserves it, Glynn, and we can't be too careful of her." The captain patted the youth on the shoulder, and, leaving him to continue his work, went to see Gurney, who had been ailing a little during the last few days. Brandy, in small quantities, had been prescribed by the doctor, and, fortunately, two bottles of that spirit had been swept from the wreck. Being their whole stock, Captain Dunning had stowed it carefully away in what he deemed a secret and secure place; but it turned out that some member of the crew was not so strict in his principles of temperance as could be desired; for, on going to the spot to procure the required medicine, it was found that one of the bottles was gone. This discovery caused the captain much anxiety and sorrow, for, besides inflicting on them the loss of a most valuable medicine, it proved that there was a thief in their little society. What was to be done? To pass it over in silence would have shown weakness, which, especially in the circumstances in which they were at that time placed, might have led at last to open mutiny. To discover the thief was impossible. The captain's mind was soon made up. He summoned every one of the party before him, and, after stating the discovery he had made, he said-- "Now, lads, I'm not going to charge any of you with having done this thing, but I cannot let it pass without warning you that if I discover any of you being guilty of such practices in future, I'll have the man tied up and give him three dozen with a rope's-end. You know I have never resorted, as many captains are in the habit of doing, to corporal punishment. I don't like it. I've sailed in command of ships for many years, and have never found it needful; but now, more than ever, strict discipline must be maintained; and I tell you, once for all, that I mean to maintain it _at any cost_." This speech was received in silence. All perceived the justice of it, yet some felt that, until the thief should be discovered, they themselves would lie under suspicion. A few there were, indeed, whose well-known and long-established characters raised them above suspicion, but there were others who knew that their character had not yet been established on so firm a basis, and they felt that until the matter should be cleared up, their honesty would be, mentally at least, called in question by their companions. With the exception of the disposition to mutiny related in a previous chapter, this was the first cloud that had risen to interrupt the harmony of the shipwrecked sailors, and as they returned to their work, sundry suggestions and remarks were made in reference to the possibility of discovering the delinquent. "I didn't think it wos poss'ble," said Rokens. "I thought as how there wasn't a man in the ship as could ha' done sich a low, mean thing as that." "No more did I," said Dick Barnes. "Wall, boys," observed Nikel Sling emphatically, "I guess as how that I don't believe it yet." "Arrah! D'ye think the bottle o' brandy stole his-self?" inquired Briant. "I ain't a-goin' fur to say that; but a ghost might ha' done it, p'raps, a-purpose to get us into a scrape." There was a slight laugh at this, and from that moment the other men suspected that Sling was the culprit. The mere fact of his being the first to charge the crime upon any one else--even a ghost--caused them, in spite of themselves, to come to this conclusion. They did not, however, by word or look, show what was passing in their minds, for the Yankee was a favourite with his comrades, and each felt unwilling that his suspicion should prove to be correct. "I don't agree with you," said Tarquin, who feared that suspicion might attach to himself, seeing that he had been the ringleader in the recent mutiny; "I don't believe that ghosts drink." "Och! that's all ye know!" cried Phil Briant. "Av ye'd only lived a month or two in Owld Ireland, ye'd have seen raison to change yer mind, ye would. Sure I've seed a ghost the worse o' liquor meself." "Oh! Phil, wot a stunner!" cried Gurney. "It's as true as me name's Phil Briant--more's the pity. Did I niver tell ye o' the Widdy Morgan, as had a ghost come to see her frequently?" "No, never--let's hear it." "Stop that noise with yer hammer, then, Tim Rokens, jist for five minutes, and I'll tell it ye." The men ceased work for a few minutes while their comrade spoke as follows-- "It's not a long story, boys, but it's long enough to prove that ghosts drink. "Ye must know that wance upon a time there wos a widdy as lived in a small town in the county o' Clare, in Owld Ireland, an' oh! but that was the place for drinkin' and fightin'. It wos there that I learned to use me sippers; and it wos there, too, that I learned to give up drinkin', for I comed for to see what a mighty dale o' harm it did to my poor countrymen. The sexton o' the place was the only man as niver wint near the grog-shop, and no wan iver seed him overtook with drink, but it was a quare thing that no wan could rightly understand why he used to _smell_ o' drink very bad sometimes. There wos a young widdy in that town, o' the name o' Morgan, as kep' a cow, an' owned a small cabin, an' a patch o' tater-ground about the size o' the starn sheets of our owld long-boat. She wos a great deal run after, wos this widdy--not that the young lads had an eye to the cow, or the cabin, or the tater-estate, by no manes--but she wos greatly admired, she wos. I admired her meself, and wint to see her pretty fraquent. Well, wan evenin' I wint to see her, an' says I, `Mrs Morgan, did ye iver hear the bit song called the Widdy Machree?' `Sure I niver did,' says she. `Would ye like to hear it, darlint?' says I. So she says she would, an' I gave it to her right off; an' when I'd done, says I, `Now, Widdy Morgan, ochone! will ye take _me_?' But she shook her head, and looked melancholy. `Ye ain't a-goin' to take spasms?' said I, for I got frightened at her looks. `No,' says she; `but there's a sacret about me; an' I like ye too well, Phil, to decaive ye; if ye only know'd the sacret, ye wouldn't have me at any price.' "`Wouldn't I?' says I; `try me, cushla, and see av I won't.' "`Phil Briant,' says she, awful solemn like, `I'm haunted.' "`Haunted!' says I; `'av coorse ye are, bliss yer purty face; don't I know that ivery boy in the parish is after ye?' "`It's not that I mane. It's a ghost as haunts me. It haunts me cabin, and me cow, and me tater-estate; an' it drinks.' "`Now, darlint,' says I, `everybody knows yer aisy frightened about ghosts. I don't belave in one meself, an' I don't mind 'em a farden dip; but av all the ghosts in Ireland haunted ye, I'd niver give ye up.' "`Will ye come an' see it this night?' says she. "`Av coorse I will,' says I. An' that same night I wint to her cabin, and she let me in, and put a candle on the table, an' hid me behind a great clock, in a corner jist close by the cupboard, where the brandy-bottle lived. Then she lay down on her bed with her clo's on, and pulled the coverlid over her, and pretinded to go to slape. In less nor half-an-hour I hears a fut on the doorstep; then a tap at the door, which opened, it seemed to me, of its own accord, and in walks the ghost, sure enough! It was covered all over from head to fut in a white sheet, and I seed by the way it walked that it wos the worse of drink. I wos in a mortal fright, ye may be sure, an' me knees shuk to that extint ye might have heard them rattle. The ghost walks straight up to the cupboard, takes out the brandy-bottle, and fills out a whole tumbler quite full, and drinks it off; it did, the baste, ivery dhrop. I seed it with me two eyes, as sure as I'm a-standin' here. It came into the house drunk, an' it wint out drunker nor it came in." "Is that all?" exclaimed several of Briant's auditors. "All! av coorse it is. Wot more would ye have? Didn't I say that I'd tell ye a story as would prove to ye that ghosts drink, more especially Irish ghosts? To be sure it turned out afterwards that the ghost was the sexton o' the parish as took advantage o' the poor widdy's fears; but I can tell ye, boys, that ghost niver came back after the widdy became Mrs Briant." "Oh! then ye married the widder, did ye?" said Jim Scroggles. "I did; an' she's alive and hearty this day av she's not--" Briant was interrupted by a sudden roar of laughter from the men, who at that moment caught sight of Jacko, the small monkey, in a condition of mind and body that, to say the least of it, did him no credit. We are sorry to be compelled to state that Jacko was evidently and undoubtedly tipsy. Gurney said he was "as drunk as a fiddler." We cannot take upon ourself to say whether he was or was not as drunk as that. We are rather inclined to think that fiddlers, as a class, are maligned, and that they are no worse than their neighbours in this respect, perhaps not so bad. Certainly, if any fiddler really deserves the imputation, it must be a violoncello player, because he is, properly speaking, a base-fiddler. Be this, however, as it may, Jacko was unmistakably drunk--in a maudlin state of intoxication--drunker, probably, than ever a monkey was before or since. He appeared, as he came slowly staggering forward to the place where the men were at work on the boat, to have just wakened out of his first drunken sleep, for his eyes were blinking like the orbs of an owl in the sunshine, and in his walk he placed his right foot where his left should have gone, and his left foot where his right should have gone, occasionally making a little run forward to save himself from tumbling on his nose, and then pulling suddenly up, and throwing up his arms in order to avoid falling on his back. Sometimes he halted altogether,--and swayed to and fro, gazing, meanwhile, pensively at the ground, as if he were wondering why it had taken to rolling and earthquaking in that preposterous manner; or were thinking on the bald-headed mother he had left behind him in the African wilderness. When the loud laugh of the men saluted his ears, Jacko looked up as quickly and steadily as he could, and grinned a ghastly smile--or something like it--as if to say, "What are you laughing at, villains?" It is commonly observed that, among men, the ruling passion comes out strongly when they are under the influence of strong drink. So it is with monkeys. Jacko's ruling passion was thieving; but having, at that time, no particular inducement to steal, he indulged his next ruling passion--that of affection--by holding out both arms, and staggering towards Phil Briant to be taken up. A renewed burst of laughter greeted this movement. "It knows ye, Phil," cried Jim Scroggles. "Ah! then, so it should, for it's meself as is good to it. Come to its uncle, then. O good luck to yer purty little yaller face. So it wos you stole the brandy, wos it? Musha! but ye might have know'd ye belonged to a timp'rance ship, so ye might." Jacko spread his arms on Briant's broad chest--they were too short to go round his neck--laid his head thereon, and sighed. Perhaps he felt penitent on account of his wickedness; but it is more probable that he felt uneasy in body rather than in mind. "I say, Briant," cried Gurney. "That's me," answered the other. "If you are Jacko's self-appointed uncle, and Miss Ailie is his adopted mother, wot relation is Miss Ailie to you?" "You never does nothin' right, Gurney," interposed Nikel Sling; "you can't even preepound a pruposition. Here's how you oughter to ha' put it. If Phil Briant be Jacko's uncle, and Miss Ailie his adopted mother--all three bein' related in a sorter way by bein' shipmates, an' all on us together bein' closely connected in vartue of our bein' messmates--wot relation is Gurney to a donkey?" "That's a puzzler," said Gurney, affecting to consider the question deeply. "Here's a puzzler wot'll beat it, though," observed Tim Rokens; "suppose we all go on talkin' stuff till doomsday, w'en'll the boat be finished?" "That's true," cried Dick Barnes, resuming work with redoubled energy; "take that young thief to his mother, Phil, and tell her to rope's-end him. I'm right glad to find, though, that he _is_ the thief arter all, and not one o' us." On examination being made, it was found that the broken and empty brandy-bottle lay on the floor of the monkey's nest, and it was conjectured, from the position in which it was discovered, that that dissipated little creature, having broken off the neck in order to get at the brandy, had used the body of the bottle as a pillow whereon to lay its drunken little head. Luckily for its own sake, it had spilt the greater part of the liquid, with which everything in its private residence was saturated and perfumed. On having ocular demonstration of the depravity of her pet, Ailie at first wept, then, on beholding its eccentric movements, she laughed in spite of herself. After that, she wept again, and spoke to it reproachfully, but failed to make the slightest impression on its hardened little heart. Then she put it to bed, and wrapped it up carefully in its sailcloth blanket. With this piece of unmerited kindness Jacko seemed touched, for he said, "Oo-oo--oo-oo--ooee-ee!" once or twice in a peculiarly soft and penitential tone, after which he dropped into a calm, untroubled slumber. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. THE BOAT FINISHED--FAREWELL TO FAIRYLAND--ONCE MORE AT SEA. At last the boat was finished. It had two masts and two lug-sails, and pulled eight oars. There was just sufficient room in it to enable the men to move about freely, but it required a little management to enable them to stow themselves away when they went to sleep, and had they possessed the proper quantity of provisions for their contemplated voyage, there is no doubt that they would have found themselves considerably cramped. The boat was named the _Maid of the Isle_, in memory of the sandbank on which she had been built, and although in her general outline and details she was rather a clumsy craft, she was serviceable and strongly put together. Had she been decked, or even half-decked, the voyage which now began would not have been so desperate an undertaking; but having been only covered in part with a frail tarpaulin, she was not at all fitted to face the terrible storms that sometimes sweep the southern seas. Each man, as he gazed at her, felt that his chance of ultimate escape was very small indeed. Still, the men had now been so long contemplating the voyage and preparing for it, and they had become so accustomed to risk their lives upon the sea, that they set out upon this voyage at last in cheerful spirits, and even jested about the anticipated dangers and trials which they knew full well awaited them. It was a lovely morning, that on which the wrecked crew of the whaler bade adieu to "Fairyland," as the islet had been named by Ailie--a name that was highly, though laughingly, approved of by the men. The ocean and sky presented that mysterious co-mingling of their gorgeous elements that irresistibly call forth the wonder and admiration of even the most unromantic and matter-of-fact men. It was one of Ailie's peculiarly beloved skies. You could not, without much consideration, have decided as to where was the exact line at which the glassy ocean met the clear sky, and it was almost impossible to tell, when gazing at the horizon, which were the real clouds and which the reflections. The bright blue vault above was laden with clouds of the most gorgeous description, in which all the shades of pearly-grey and yellow were mingled and contrasted. They rose up, pile upon pile, in stupendous majesty, like the very battlements of heaven, while their images, clear and distinct almost as themselves, rolled down and down into the watery depths, until the islet--the only well-defined and solid object in the scene--appeared to float in their midst. The rising sun shot throughout the vast immensity of space, and its warm rays were interrupted, and broken, and caught, and absorbed, and reflected in so many magical ways, that it was impossible to trace any of the outlines for more than a few seconds, ere the eye was lost in the confusion of bright lights and deep shadows that were mingled and mellowed together by the softer lights and shades of every degree of depth and tint into splendid harmony. In the midst of this scene Captain Dunning stood, with Ailie by his side, and surrounded by his men, on the shores of the little island. Everything was now in readiness to set sail. The boat was laden, and in the water, and the men stood ready to leap in and push off. "My lads," said the captain, earnestly, "we're about to quit this morsel of sandbank on which it pleased the Almighty to cast our ship, and on which, thanks be to Him, we have found a pretty safe shelter for so long. I feel a sort o' regret almost at leavin' it now. But the time has come for us to begin our voyage towards the Cape, and I need scarcely repeat what you all know well enough--that our undertakin' is no child's play. We shall need all our bodily and our mental powers to carry us through. Our labour must be constant, and our food is not sufficient, so that we must go on shorter allowance from this day. I gave you half rations while ye were buildin' the boat, because we had to get her finished and launched as fast as we could, but now we can't afford to eat so much. I made a careful inspection of our provisions last night, and I find that by allowing every man four ounces a day, we can spin it out. We may fall in with islands, perhaps, but I know of none in these seas--there are none put down on the charts--and we may get hold of a fish now and then, but we must not count on these chances. Now it must be plain to all of you that our only chance of getting on well together in circumstances that will try our tempers, no doubt, and rouse our selfishness, is to resolve firmly before starting--each man for himself--that we will lay restraint on ourselves and try to help each other as much as we can." There was a ready murmur of assent to this proposal; then the captain continued:-- "Now, lads, one word more. Our best efforts, let us exert ourselves ever so much, cannot be crowned with success unless before setting out, we ask the special favour and blessing of Him who, we are told in the Bible, holds the waters of the ocean in the hollow of His hand. If He helps us, we shall be saved; if He does not help us, we shall perish. We will therefore offer up a prayer now, in the name of our blessed Redeemer, that we may be delivered from every danger, and be brought at last in peace and comfort to our homes." Captain Dunning then clasped his hands together, and while the men around him reverently bowed their heads, he offered up a short and simple, but earnest prayer to God. From that day forward they continued the habit of offering up prayer together once a day, and soon afterwards the captain began the practice of reading a chapter aloud daily out of Ailie's Bible. The result of this was that not only were the more violent spirits among them restrained, under frequent and sore privations and temptations, but all the party were often much comforted and filled with hope at times when they were by their sufferings well-nigh driven to despair. "I'm sorry to leave Fairyland, papa," said Ailie sadly, as the men shoved the _Maid of the Isle_ into deep water and pulled out to sea. "So am I, dear," replied the captain sitting down beside his daughter in the stern-sheets of the boat, and taking the tiller; "I had no idea I could have come to like such a barren bit of sand so well." There was a long pause after this remark. Every eye in the boat was turned with a sad expression on the bright-yellow sandbank as they rowed away, and the men dipped their oars lightly into the calm waters, as if they were loth to leave their late home. Any spot of earth that has been for some time the theatre of heart-stirring events, such as rouse men's strong emotions, and on which happy and hopeful as well as wretched days have been spent, will so entwine itself with the affections of men that they will cling to it and love it, more or less powerfully, no matter how barren may be the spot or how dreary its general aspect. The sandbank had been the cause, no doubt, of the wreck of the _Red Eric_, but it had also been the means, under God, of saving the crew and affording them shelter during many succeeding weeks--weeks of deep anxiety, but also of healthful, hopeful, energetic toil, in which, if there were many things to create annoyance or fear, there had also been not a few things to cause thankfulness, delight, and amusement. Unknown to themselves, these rough sailors and the tender child had become attached to the spot, and it was only now that they were about to leave it for ever that they became aware of the fact. The circumscribed and limited range on which their thoughts and vision had been bent for the last few weeks, had rendered each individual as familiar with every inch of the bank as if he had dwelt there for years. Ailie gazed at the low rocks that overhung the crystal pool in Fairyland, until the blinding tears filled her eyes, and she felt all the deep regret that is experienced by the little child when it is forcibly torn from an old and favourite toy--regret that is not in the least degree mitigated by the fact that the said toy is but a sorry affair, a doll, perchance, with a smashed head, eyes thrust out, and nose flattened on its face or rubbed away altogether--it matters not; the long and happy hours and days spent in the companionship of that battered little mass of wood or wax rush on the infant memory like a dear delightful dream, and it weeps on separation as if its heart would break. Each man in the boat's crew experienced more or less of the same feeling, and commented, according to his nature, either silently or audibly, on each familiar object as he gazed upon it for the last time. "There's the spot where we built the hut when we first landed, Ailie," said Glynn, who pulled the aft oar; "d'ye see it?--just coming into view; look! There it will be shut out again in a moment by the rock beside the coral-pool." "I see it!" exclaimed Ailie eagerly, as she brushed away the tears from her eyes. "There's the rock, too, where we used to make our fire," said the captain, pointing it out. "It doesn't look like itself from this point of view." "Ah!" sighed Phil Briant, "an' it wos at the fut o' that, too, where we used to bile the kittle night an' mornin'. Sure it's many a swait bit and pipe I had beside ye." "Is that a bit o' the wreck?" inquired Tim Rokens, pointing to the low rocky point with the eagerness of a man who had made an unexpected discovery. "No," replied Mr Millons, shading his eyes with his hands, and gazing at the object in question, "it's himpossible. I searched every bit o' the bank for a plank before we came hoff, an' couldn't find a morsel as big as my 'and. W'at say you, doctor?" "I think with you," answered Dr Hopley; "but here's the telescope, which will soon settle the question." While the doctor adjusted the glass, Rokens muttered that "He wos sure it wos a bit o' the wreck," and that "there wos a bit o' rock as nobody couldn't easy git a t'other side of to look, and that that wos it, and the bit of wreck was there," and much to the same effect. "So it is," exclaimed the doctor. "Lay on your oars, lads, a moment," said the captain, taking the glass and applying it to his eye. The men obeyed gladly, for they experienced an unaccountable disinclination to row away from the island. Perhaps the feeling was caused in part by the idea that when they took their last look at it, it might possibly be their _last_ sight of land. "It's a small piece of the foretopmast crosstrees," observed the captain, shutting up the telescope and resuming his seat. "Shall we go back an' pick it up, sir?" asked Dick Barnes gravely, giving vent to the desires of his heart, without perceiving at the moment the absurdity of the question. "Why, what would you do with it, Dick?" replied the captain, smiling. "Sure, ye couldn't ait it!" interposed Briant; "but afther all, there's no sayin'. Maybe Nikel Sling could make a tasty dish out of it stewed in oakum and tar." "It wouldn't be purlite to take such a tit-bit from the mermaids," observed Gurney, as the oars were once more dipped reluctantly, in the water. The men smiled at the jest, for in the monotony of sea life every species of pleasantry, however poor, is swallowed with greater or less avidity; but the smile did not last long. They were in no jesting humour at that time, and no one replied to the passing joke. Soon after this a soft gentle breeze sprang up. It came direct from Fairyland, as if the mermaids referred to by Gurney had been touched by the kindly feelings harboured in the sailors' bosoms towards their islet, and had wafted towards them a last farewell. The oars were shipped immediately and the sails hoisted, and, to the satisfaction of all on board, the _Maid of the Isle_ gave indications of being a swift sailer, for, although the puff of wind was scarcely sufficient to ruffle the glassy surface of the sea, she glided through the water under its influence a good deal faster than she had done with the oars. "That's good!" remarked the captain, watching the ripples as they passed astern; "with fair winds, and not too much of 'em, we shall get on bravely; so cheer up, my lassie," he added, patting Ailie on the head, "and let us begin our voyage in good spirits, and with hopeful, trusting hearts." "Look at Fairyland," said Ailie, clasping her father's hand, and pointing towards the horizon. At the moment she spoke, an opening in the great white clouds let a ray of light fall on the sandbank, which had now passed almost beyond the range of vision. The effect was to illumine its yellow shore and cause it to shine out for a few seconds like a golden speck on the horizon. No one had ceased to gaze at it from the time the boat put forth; but this sudden change caused every one to start up, and fix their eyes on it with renewed interest and intensity. "Shall we ever see land again?" passed, in one form or another, through the minds of all. The clouds swept slowly on the golden point melted away, and the shipwrecked mariners felt that their little boat was now all the world to them in the midst of that mighty world of waters. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. REDUCED ALLOWANCE OF FOOD--JACKO TEACHES BRIANT A USEFUL LESSON. The first few days of the voyage of the _Maid of the Isle_ were bright and favourable. The wind, though light, was fair, and so steady that the men were only twice obliged to have recourse to their oars. The boat behaved admirably. Once, during these first days, the wind freshened into a pretty stiff breeze, and a somewhat boisterous sea arose, so that she was tested in another of her sailing qualities, and was found to be an excellent sea-boat. Very little water was shipped, and that little was taken in rather through the awkwardness of King Bumble, who steered, than through the fault of the boat. Captain Dunning had taken care that there should be a large supply of tin and wooden scoops, for baling out the water that might be shipped in rough weather, as he foresaw that on the promptness with which this duty was performed, might sometimes depend the safety of the boat and crew. There was one thing that proved a matter of much regret to the crew, and that was the want of a fowling-piece, or firearm of any kind. Had they possessed a gun, however old and bad, with ammunition for it, they would have been certain, at some period of their voyage, to shoot a few sea-birds, with which they expected to fall in on approaching the land, even although many days distant from it. But having nothing of the kind, their hope of adding to their slender stock of provisions was very small indeed. Fortunately, they had one or two fishing-lines, but in the deep water, over which for many days they had to sail, fishing was out of the question. This matter of the provisions was a source of constant anxiety to Captain Dunning. He had calculated the amount of their stores to an ounce, and ascertained that at a certain rate of distribution they would barely serve for the voyage, and this without making any allowance for interruptions or detentions. He knew the exact distance to be passed over, namely, 2322 miles in a straight line, and he had ascertained the sailing and rowing powers of the boat and crew; thus he was enabled to arrive at a pretty correct idea of the probable duration of the voyage, supposing that all should go well. But in the event of strong contrary winds arising, no fresh supplies of fish or fowl being obtained, or sickness breaking out among the men, he knew either that they must starve altogether, or that he must at once, before it was too late, still farther reduce the scanty allowance of food and drink to each man. The captain sat at the helm one fine evening, about a week after their departure from Fairyland, brooding deeply over this subject. The boat was running before a light breeze, at the rate of about four or five knots, and the men, who had been obliged to row a good part of that day, were sitting or reclining on the thwarts, or leaning over the gunwale, watching the ripples as they glided by, and enjoying the rest from labour; for now that they had been for some time on reduced allowance of food, they felt less able for work than they used to be, and often began to look forward with intense longing to seasons of repose. Ailie was sitting near the entrance of her little sleeping apartment--which the men denominated a kennel--and master Jacko was seated on the top of it, scratching his sides and enjoying the sunshine. "My lads," said the captain, breaking a silence which had lasted a considerable time, "I'm afraid I shall have to reduce our allowance still farther." This remark was received by Gurney and Phil Briant with a suppressed groan--by the other men in silence. "You see," continued the captain, "it won't do to count upon chances, which may or may not turn out to be poor. We can, by fixing our allowance per man at a lower rate, make quite certain of our food lasting us until we reach the Cape, even if we should experience a little detention; but if we go on at the present rate, we are equally certain that it will fail us just at the last." "We're sartain to fall in with birds before we near the land," murmured Gurney, with a rueful expression of countenance. "We are certain of nothing," replied the captain; "but even suppose we were, how are we to get hold of them?" "That's true," observed Briant, who solaced himself with his pipe in the absence of a sufficiency of food. "Sea-birds, no more nor land-birds, ain't given to pluckin' and roastin' themselves, and flyin' down people's throats ready cooked." "Besides," resumed the captain, "the plan I propose, although it will entail a little more present self-denial, will, humanly speaking, ensure our getting through the voyage with life in us even at the worst, and if we _are_ so lucky as to catch fish or procure birds in any way, why we shall fare sumptuously." Here Tim Rokens, to whom the men instinctively looked, upon all matters of perplexity, removed his pipe from his lips, and said-- "Wot Cap'en Dunnin' says is true. If we take his plan, why, we'll starve in a reg'lar way, little by little, and p'raps spin out till we git to the Cape; w'ereas, if we take the other plan, we'll keep a little fatter on the first part of the voyage, mayhap, but we'll arrive at the end of it as dead as mutton, every man on us." This view of the question seemed so just to the men, and so full of incontrovertible wisdom, that it was received with something like a murmur of applause. "You're a true philosopher, Rokens. Now Doctor Hopley, I must beg you to give us your opinion, as a medical man, on this knotty subject," said the captain, smiling. "Do you think that we can continue to exist if our daily allowance is reduced one-fourth?" The doctor replied, "Let me see," and putting his finger on his forehead, frowned portentously, affecting to give the subject the most intense consideration. He happened to look at Jacko when he frowned, and that pugnacious individual, happening at the same instant to look at the doctor, and supposing that the frown was a distinct challenge to fight, first raised his eyebrows to the top of his head in amazement, then pulled them down over his flashing orbs in deep indignation, and displayed all his teeth, as well as an extent of gums that was really frightful to behold! "Oh! Jacko, bad thing," said Ailie, in a reproachful tone, pulling the monkey towards her. Taking no notice of these warlike indications, the doctor, after a few minutes' thought, looked up and said-- "I have no doubt whatever that we can stand it. Most of us are in pretty good condition still, and have some fat to spare. Fat persons can endure reduced allowance of food much better and longer than those who are lean. There's Gurney, now, for instance, he could afford to have his share even still further curtailed." This remark was received with a grin of delighted approval by the men and with a groan by Gurney, who rubbed his stomach gently, as if that region were assailed with pains at the bare thought of such injustice. "Troth, if that's true what ye say, doctor, I hope ye'll see it to be yer duty to give wot ye cut off Gurney's share to me," remarked Briant, "for its nothing but a bag o' bones that I am this minute." "Oh! oh! wot a wopper," cried Jim Scroggles, whose lean and lanky person seemed ill adapted to exist upon light fare. "Well," observed the captain, "the doctor and I shall make a careful calculation and let you know the result by supper-time, when the new system shall be commenced. What think you, Ailie, my pet, will you be able to stand it?" "Oh yes, papa, I don't care how much you reduce my allowance." "What! don't you feel hungry?" "No, not a bit." "Not ready for supper?" "Not anxious for it, at any rate." "Och! I wish I wos you," murmured Briant, with a deep sigh. "I think I could ait the foresail, av it wos only well biled with the laste possible taste o' pig's fat." By supper-time the captain announced the future daily allowance, and served it out. Each man received a piece of salt junk--that is, salt beef--weighing exactly one ounce; also two ounces of broken biscuit; a small piece of tobacco, and a quarter of a pint of water. Although the supply of the latter was small, there was every probability of a fresh supply being obtained when it chanced to rain, so that little anxiety was felt at first in regard to it; but the other portions of each man's allowance were weighed with scrupulous exactness, in a pair of scales which were constructed by Tim Rokens out of a piece of wood--a leaden musket-ball doing service as a weight. Ailie received an equal portion with the others, but Jacko was doomed to drag out his existence on a very minute quantity of biscuit and water. He utterly refused to eat salt junk, and would not have been permitted to use tobacco even had he been so inclined, which he was not. Although they were thus reduced to a small allowance of food--a smaller quantity than was sufficient to sustain life for any lengthened period-- no one in the slightest degree grudged Jacko his small portion. All the men entertained a friendly feeling to the little monkey, partly because it was Ailie's pet, and partly because it afforded them great amusement at times by its odd antics. As for Jacko himself, he seemed to thrive on short allowance, and never exhibited any unseemly haste or anxiety at meal-times. It was observed, however, that he kept an uncommonly sharp eye on all that passed around him, as if he felt that his circumstances were at that time peculiar and worthy of being noted. In particular he knew to a nicety what happened to each atom of food, from the time of its distribution among the men to the moment of its disappearance within their hungry jaws, and if any poor fellow chanced to lay his morsel down and neglect it for the tenth part of an instant, it vanished like a shot, and immediately thereafter Jacko was observed to present an unusually serene and innocent aspect, and to become suddenly afflicted, with a swelling in the pouch under his cheek. One day the men received a lesson in carefulness which they did not soon forget. Breakfast had been served out, and Phil Briant was about to finish his last mouthful of biscuit--he had not had many mouthfuls to try his masticating powers, poor fellow--when he paused suddenly, and gazing at the cherished morsel addressed it thus-- "Shure, it's a purty bit, ye are! Av there wos only wan or two more o' yer family here, it's meself as 'ud like to be made beknown to them. I'll not ait ye yit. I'll look at ye for a little." In pursuance of this luxurious plan, Briant laid the morsel of biscuit on the thwart of the boat before him, and, taking out his pipe, began to fill it leisurely, keeping his eye all the time on the last bite. Just then Mr Markham, who pulled the bow oar, called out-- "I say, Briant, hand me my tobacco-pouch, it's beside you on the th'ort, close under the gun'le." "Is it?" said Briant, stretching out his hand to the place indicated, but keeping his eye fixed all the time on the piece of biscuit. "Ah, here it is; ketch it." For one instant Briant looked at the second mate in order to throw the pouch with precision. That instant was sufficient for the exercise of Jacko's dishonest propensities. The pouch was yet in its passage through the air when a tremendous roar from Tim Rokens apprised the unhappy Irishman of his misfortune. He did not require to be told to "look out!" although more than one voice gave him that piece of advice. An intuitive perception of irreparable loss flashed across his soul, and, with the speed of light, his eye was again on the thwart before him--but not on the morsel of biscuit. At that same instant Jacko sat down beside Ailie with his usual serene aspect and swelled cheek! "Och, ye bottle imp!" yelled the bereaved one, "don't I know ye?" and seizing a tin pannikin, in his wrath, he threw it at the small monkey's head with a force that would, had it been well directed, have smashed that small head effectually. Jacko made a quick and graceful nod, and the pannikin, just missing Ailie, went over the side into the sea, where it sank and was lost for ever, to the regret of all, for they could ill afford to lose it. "Ye've got it, ye have, but ye shan't ait it," growled Briant through his teeth, as he sprang over the seat towards the monkey. Jacko bounded like a piece of indiarubber on to Gurney's head; next moment he was clinging to the edge of the mainsail, and the next he was comfortably seated on the top of the mast, where he proceeded calmly and leisurely to "ait" the biscuit in the face of its exasperated and rightful owner. "Oh,--Briant!" exclaimed Ailie, who was half frightened, half amused at the sudden convulsion caused by her favourite's bad conduct, "don't be vexed; see, here is a little bit of my biscuit; I don't want it--really I don't." Briant, who stood aghast and overwhelmed by his loss and by the consummate impudence of the small monkey, felt rebuked by this offer. Bursting into a loud laugh, he said, as he resumed his seat and the filling of his pipe-- "Sure I'd rather ait me own hat, Miss Ailie, an' it's be no means a good wan--without sarce, too, not even a blot o' mustard--than take the morsel out o' yer purty mouth. I wos more nor half jokin', dear, an' I ax yer parding for puttin' ye in sich a fright." "Expensive jokin'," growled Tarquin, "if ye throw a pannikin overboard every time you take to it." "Kape your tongue quiet," said Briant, reddening, for he felt somewhat humbled at having given way to his anger so easily, and was nettled at the remark, coming as it did, in a sneering spirit, from a man for whom he had no particular liking. "Never mind, Briant," interposed the captain quickly, with a good-humoured laugh; "I feel for you, lad. Had it been myself I fear I should have been even more exasperated. I would not sell a crumb of my portion just now for a guinea." "Neither would I," added the doctor, "for a thousand guineas." "I'll tell ye wot it is, lads," remarked Tim Rokens; "I wish I only had a crumb to sell." "Now, Rokens, don't be greedy," cried Gurney. "Greedy!" echoed Tim. "Ay, greedy; has any o' you lads got a dickshunairy to lend him? Come, Jim Scroggles, you can tell him what it means--you've been to school, I believe, hain't you?" Rokens shook his head gravely. "No, lad, I'm not greedy, but I'm ready for wittles. I won't go fur to deny that. Now, let me ax ye a question. Wot--supposin' ye had the chance--would ye give, at this good min'it, for a biled leg o' mutton?" "With or without capers-sauce?" inquired Gurney. "W'ichever _you_ please." "Och! we wouldn't need capers-sarse," interposed Briant; "av we only had the mutton, I'd cut enough o' capers meself to do for the sarce, I would." "It matters little what you'd give," cried Glynn, "for we can't get it at any price just now. Don't you think, captain, that we might have our breakfast to-night? It would save time in the morning, you know." There was a general laugh at this proposal, yet there was a strong feeling in the minds of some that if it were consistent with their rules to have breakfast served out then and there, they would gladly have consented to go without it next morning. Thus, with laugh and jest, and good-natured repartee, did these men bear the pangs of hunger for many days. They were often silent during long intervals, and sometimes they became talkative and sprightly, but it was observed that, whether they conversed earnestly or jestingly, their converse ran, for the most part, on eating and drinking, and in their uneasy slumbers, during the intervals between the hours of work and watching, they almost invariably dreamed of food. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. PROGRESS OF THE LONG VOYAGE--STORY-TELLING AND JOURNALISING. Many weeks passed away, but the _Maid of the Isle_ still held on her course over the boundless ocean. Day after day came and went, the sun rose in the east morning after morning, ran its appointed course, and sank, night after night, on the western horizon, but little else occurred to vary the monotony of that long, long voyage. When the sun rose, its bright rays leapt from the bosom of the ocean; when it set, the same bosom of the great deep received its descending beams. No land, no sail appeared to the anxious gazers in that little boat, which seemed to move across, yet never to reach the boundaries of that mighty circle of water and sky, in the midst of which they lay enchained, as if by some wicked enchanter's spell. Breezes blew steadily at times and urged them swiftly on towards the circumference, but it fled as fast as they approached. Then it fell calm, and the weary men resumed their oars, and with heavy hearts and weakened arms tugged at the boat which seemed to have turned into a mass of lead. At such times a dead silence was maintained, for the work, which once would have been to them but child's play, had now become severe and heavy labour. Still they did not murmur. Even the cross-grained Tarquin became subdued in spirit by the influence of the calm endurance and good-humour of his comrades. But the calms seldom lasted long. The winds, which happily continued favourable, again ruffled the surface of the sea, and sometimes blew so briskly as to oblige them to take in a reef or two in their sails. The oars were gladly drawn in, and the spirits of the men rose as the little boat bent over to the blast, lost her leaden qualities, and danced upon the broad-backed billows, like a cork. There was no rain during all this time; little or no stormy weather; and, but for their constant exposure to the hot sun by day and the cold chills by night, the time might have been said to pass even pleasantly, despite the want of a sufficiency of food. Thus day after day and night after night flew by, and week after week came and went, and still the _Maid of the Isle_ held on her course over the boundless ocean. During all that time the one and a quarter ounces of salt junk and biscuit and the eighth of a pint of water were weighed and measured out to each man, three times a day, with scrupulous care and exactness, lest a drop or a crumb of the food that was more precious than diamonds should be lost. The men had all become accustomed to short allowance now, and experienced no greater inconvenience than a feeling of lassitude, which feeling increased daily, but by such imperceptible degrees that they were scarcely conscious of it, and were only occasionally made aware of the great reduction of their strength when they attempted to lift any article which, in the days of their full vigour, they could have tossed into the air, but which they could scarcely move now. When, however, the fair breeze enabled them to glide along under sail, and they lay enjoying complete rest, they experienced no unwonted sensations of weakness; their spirits rose, as the spirits of sailors always will rise when the waves are rippling at the bow and a white track forming in the wake; and they spent the time--when not asleep--in cheerful conversation and in the spinning of long yarns. They did not sing, however, as might have been expected--they were too weak for that--they called the feeling "lazy," some said they "couldn't be bothered" to sing. No one seemed willing to admit that his strength was in reality abated. In story-telling the captain, the doctor, and Glynn shone conspicuous. And when all was going smoothly and well, the anecdotes, histories, and romances related by these three were listened to with such intense interest and delight by the whole crew, that one would have thought they were enjoying a pleasure trip, and had no cause whatever for anxiety. Gurney, too, and Briant, and Nikel Sling came out frequently in the story-telling line, and were the means of causing many and many an hour to pass quickly and pleasantly by, which would otherwise have hung heavily on the hands of all. Ailie Dunning was an engrossed and delighted listener at all times. She drank in every species of story with an avidity that was quite amusing. It seemed also to have been infectious, for even Jacko used to sit hour after hour looking steadily at each successive speaker, with a countenance so full of bright intelligence, and grave surpassing wisdom, as to lead one to the belief that he not only understood all that was said, but turned it over in his mind, and drew from it ideas and conclusions far more bright and philosophical than could have been drawn therefrom by any human being, however wise or ingenious. He grinned, too, did Jacko, with an intensity and frequency that induced the sailors at first to call him a clever dog, in the belief that his perception of the ludicrous was very strong indeed; but as his grins were observed to occur quite as frequently at the pathetic and the grave as at the comical parts of the stories, they changed their minds, and said he was a "codger"--in which remark they were undoubtedly safe, seeing that it committed them to nothing very specific. Captain Dunning's stories were, more properly speaking, histories, and were very much relished, for he possessed a natural power of relating what he knew in an interesting manner and with a peculiarly pleasant tone of voice. Every one who has considered the subject at all must have observed what a powerful influence there lies in the mere manner and tone of a speaker. The captain's voice was so rich, so mellow, and capable of such varied modulation, that the men listened with pleasure to the words which rolled from his lips, as one would listen to a sweet song. He became so deeply interested, too, in the subject about which he happened to be speaking, that his auditors could not help becoming interested also. He had no powers of eloquence, neither was he gifted with an unusually bright fancy. But he was fluent in speech, and his words, though not chosen, were usually appropriate. The captain had no powers of invention whatever. He used to say, when asked to tell a story, that he "might as well try to play the fiddle with a handspike." But this was no misfortune, for he had read much, and his memory was good, and supplied him with an endless flow of small-talk on almost every subject that usually falls under the observation of sea-captains, and on many subjects besides, about which most sea-captains, or land-captains, or any other captains whatsoever, are almost totally ignorant. Captain Dunning could tell of adventures in the whale-fishery, gone through either by himself or by friends, that would have made your two eyes stare out of their two sockets until they looked like saucers (to use a common but not very correct simile). He could tell the exact latitude and longitude of almost every important and prominent part of the globe, and give the distance, pretty nearly, of any one place (on a large scale) from any other place. He could give the heights of all the chief mountains in the world to within a few feet, and could calculate, by merely looking at its current and depth, how many cubic feet of water any river delivered to the sea per minute. Length, breadth, and thickness, height, depth, and density, were subjects in which he revelled, and with which he played as a juggler does with golden balls; and so great were his powers of numerical calculation, that the sailors often declared they believed he could work out any calculation backwards without the use of logarithms! He was constantly instituting comparisons that were by no means what the proverb terms "odious," but which were often very astonishing, and in all his stories so many curious and peculiar facts were introduced, that, as we have already said, they were very much relished indeed. Not less relished, however, were Glynn Proctor's astounding and purely imaginative tales. After the men's minds had been chained intently on one of the captain's semi-philosophical anecdotes, they turned with infinite zest to one of Glynn's outrageous flights. Glynn had not read much in his short life, and his memory was nothing to boast of, but his imagination was quite gigantic. He could invent almost anything; and the curious part of it was, that he could do it out of nothing, if need be. He never took time to consider what he should say. When called on for a story he began at once, and it flowed from him like a flood of sparkling water from a fountain in fairy realms. Up in the clouds; high in the blue ether; down in the coral caves; deep in the ocean waves; out on the mountain heaths; far in the rocky glens, or away in the wild woods green--it was all one to Glynn; he leaped away in an instant, with a long train of adventurers at his heels--male and female, little and big, old and young, pretty and plain, grave and gay. And didn't they go through adventures that would have made the hair of mortals not only stand on end, but fly out by the roots altogether? Didn't he make them talk, as mortals never talked before; and sing as mortals never dreamed of? And, oh! didn't he just make them stew, and roast, and boil joints of savoury meat, and bake pies, and tarts, and puddings, such as Soyer in his wildest culinary dreams never imagined, and such as caused the mouths of the crew of the _Maid of the Isle_ to water, until they were constrained, poor fellows, to tell him to "clap a stopper upon that," and hold his tongue, for they "couldn't stand it!" Phil Briant and Gurney dealt in the purely comic line. They remarked-- generally in an undertone--that they left poetry and prose to Glynn and the captain; and it was as well they did, for their talents certainly did not lie in either of these directions. They came out strong after meals, when the weather was fine, and formed a species of light and agreeable interlude to the more weighty efforts of the captain and the brilliant sallies of Glynn. Gurney dealt in _experiences_ chiefly, and usually endeavoured by asseveration and iteration to impress his hearers with the truth of facts said to have been experienced by himself, which, if true, would certainly have consigned him to a premature grave long ago. Briant, on the other hand, dealt largely in ghost stories, which he did not vouch for the truth of, but permitted his hearers to judge of for themselves-- a permission which they would doubtless have taken for themselves at any rate. But tales and stories occupied, after all, only a small portion of the men's time during that long voyage. Often, very often, they were too much exhausted to talk or even to listen, and when not obliged to labour at the oars they tried to sleep; but "Nature's sweet restorer" did not always come at the first invitation, as was his wont in other days, and too frequently they were obliged to resume work unrefreshed. Their hands became hard and horny in the palms at last, like a man's heel, and their backs and arms ached from constant work. Ailie kept in good health, but she, too, began to grow weak from want of proper nourishment. She slept better than the men, for the comfortable sleeping-box that Glynn had constructed for her sheltered her from the heat, wet, and cold, to which the former were constantly exposed. She amused herself, when not listening to stories or asleep, by playing with her favourite, and she spent a good deal of time in reading her Bible-- sometimes to herself, at other times, in a low tone, to her father as he sat at the helm. And many a time did she see a meaning in passages which, in happier times, had passed meaningless before her eyes, and often did she find sweet comfort in words that she had read with comparative indifference in former days. It is in the time of trial, trouble, and sorrow that the Bible proves to be a friend indeed. Happy the Christian who, when dark clouds overwhelm his soul, has a memory well stored with the comforting passages of the Word of God. But Ailie had another occupation which filled up much of her leisure, and proved to be a source of deep and engrossing interest at the time. This was the keeping of a journal of the voyage. On the last trip made to the wreck of the _Red Eric_, just before the great storm that completed the destruction of that ship, the captain had brought away in his pocket a couple of note-books. One of these he kept to himself to jot down the chief incidents of the intended voyage; the other he gave to Ailie, along with a blacklead pencil. Being fond of trying to write, she amused herself for hours together in jotting down her thoughts about the various incidents of the voyage, great and small; and being a very good drawer for her age, she executed many fanciful and elaborate sketches, among which were innumerable portraits of Jacko and several caricatures of the men. This journal, as it advanced, became a source of much interest and amusement to every one in the boat; and when, in an hour of the utmost peril, it, along with many other things, was lost, the men, after the danger was past, felt the loss severely. Thus they spent their time--now pleasantly, now sadly--sometimes becoming cheerful and hopeful, at other times sinking almost into a state of despair as their little stock of food and water dwindled down, while the _Maid of the Isle_ still held on her apparently endless course over the great wide sea. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. THE CALM AND THE STORM--A SERIOUS LOSS AND GREAT GAIN--BIRD-CATCHING EXTRAORDINARY--SAVED AT LAST. One day a deep death-like calm settled down upon the ocean. For some days before, the winds had been light and uncertain, and the air had been excessively warm. The captain cast uneasy glances around him from time to time, and looked with a sadder countenance than usual on the haggard faces of the men as they laboured slowly and silently at the oars. "I don't know what this will turn to, doctor," he said, in a low tone; "I don't like the look of it." The doctor, who was perusing Ailie's journal at the moment, looked up and shook his head. "It seems to me, captain, that whatever happens, matters cannot be made much worse." "You are wrong, doctor," replied the captain quietly; "we have still much to be thankful for." "Did you not tell me a few minutes ago that the water was almost done?" The doctor said this in a whisper, for the men had not yet been made aware of the fact. "Yes, I did; but it is not _quite_ done; that is matter for thankfulness." "Oh, according to that principle," observed the doctor, somewhat testily, "you may say we have cause to be thankful for _everything_, bad as well as good." "So we have! so we have! If everything good were taken from us, and nothing left us but our lives, we would have reason to be thankful for that--thankful that we were still above ground, still in the land of hope, with salvation to our immortal souls through Jesus Christ freely offered for our acceptance." The doctor made no reply. He thought the captain a little weak in the matter of religion. If religion is false, his opinion of the captain no doubt, was right, but if true, surely the weakness lay all the other way. That morning the captain's voice in prayer was more earnest, if possible, than usual, and he put up a special petition for _water_, which was observed by the men with feelings of great anxiety, and responded to with a deep amen. After morning worship the scales were brought, and the captain proceeded to weigh out the scanty meal, while the men watched his every motion with an almost wolfish glare, that told eloquently of the prolonged sufferings they had endured. Even poor Ailie's gentle face now wore a sharp, anxious expression when food was being served out, and she accepted her small portion with a nervous haste that was deeply painful and touching to witness. She little knew, poor child, that that portion of bread and meat and water, small though it was, was larger than that issued to the men, being increased by a small quantity deducted from the captain's own allowance and an equal amount from that of Glynn. The latter had noticed the captain's habit of regularly calling off the child's attention during the distribution of each meal, for the purpose of thus increasing her portion at the expense of his own, and in a whispering conversation held soon after he insisted that a little of his allowance should also be transferred to her. At first the captain firmly refused, but Glynn said that if he did not accede to his wish he would hand over the whole of his portion in future to the monkey, let the result be what it might! As Glynn never threatened without a full and firm resolve to carry out his threats, the captain was compelled to give in. When the water came to be served out that morning the captain paused, and looking round at the anxious eyes that were riveted upon him, said-- "My lads, it has pleased the Almighty to lay His hand still heavier on us. May He who has said that He will not suffer men to be tempted above what they are able to bear, give us strength to stand it. Our water is almost done. We must be content with a quarter of our usual allowance." This information was received in deep silence--perhaps it was the silence of despair, for the quantity hitherto served out had been barely sufficient to moisten their parched throats, and they _knew_ that they could not exist long on the reduced allowance. Jacko came with the rest as usual for his share, and held out his little hand for the tin cup in which his few drops of water were wont to be handed to him. The captain hesitated and looked at the men; then he poured out a few drops of the precious liquid. For the first time a murmur of disapproval was heard. "It's only a brute beast; the monkey must die before _us_," said a voice which was so hollow and changed that it could scarcely be recognised as that of Tarquin, the steward. No one else said a word. The captain did not even look up to see who had spoken. He felt the justice as well as the harshness of the remark, and poured the water back into the jar. Jacko seems puzzled at first, and held out his hand again; then he looked round on the men with that expression of unutterable woe which is peculiar to some species of the monkey tribe. He seemed to feel that something serious was about to happen to him. Looking up in the sad face of his young mistress, he uttered a very gentle and plaintive "oo-oo-ee!" Ailie burst into a passionate flood of tears, and in the impulse of the moment handed her own cup, which she had not tasted, to Jacko, who drained it in a twinkling--before the captain could snatch it from his hands. Having emptied it, Jacko went forward as he had been taught to do, and handed back the cup with quite a pleased expression of countenance--for he was easily satisfied, poor thing! "You should not have done that, my darling," said the captain, as he gave Ailie another portion. "Dear papa, I couldn't help it," sobbed the child; "indeed I couldn't-- and you need not give me any. I can do without it to-day." "Can you? But you shan't," exclaimed Glynn, with a degree of energy that would have made every one laugh in happier times. "No, no, my own pet," replied the captain. "You shan't want it. Here, you _must_ drink it, come." From that day Jacko received his allowance regularly as long as a drop of water was left, and no one again murmured against it. When it was finished he had to suffer with the rest. The calm which had set in proved to be of longer duration than usual, and the sufferings of the crew of the little boat became extreme. On the third day after its commencement the last drop of water was served out. It amounted to a couple of teaspoonfuls per man each meal, of which there were three a day. During the continuance of the calm, the sun shone in an almost cloudless sky and beat down upon the heads of the men until it drove them nearly mad. They all looked like living skeletons, and their eyes glared from their sunken sockets with a dry fiery lustre that was absolutely terrible to behold. Had each one in that boat possessed millions of gold he would have given all, gladly, for one drop of fresh water; but, alas! nothing could purchase water there. Ailie thought upon the man who, in the Bible, is described as looking up to heaven from the depths of hell and crying for one drop of water to cool his tongue, and she fancied that she could now realise his agony. The captain looked up into the hot sky, but no blessed cloud appeared there to raise the shadow of a hope. He looked down at the sea, and it seemed to mock him with its clear blue depths, which looked so sweet and pleasant. He realised the full significance of that couplet in Coleridge's _Ancient Mariner_-- "Water, water, everywhere, But not a drop to drink." and, drawing Ailie to his breast, he laid his cheek upon hers and groaned aloud. "We shall soon be taken away, dear papa!" she said--and she tried to weep, but the tears that came unbidden and so easily at other times to her bright blue eyes refused to flow now. The men had one by one ceased to ply their useless oars, and the captain did not take notice of it, for he felt that unless God sent relief in some almost miraculous way, their continuing to row would be of no avail. It would only increase their agony without advancing them more than a few miles on the long, long voyage that he knew still lay before them. "O God, grant us a breeze!" cried Mr Millons, in a deep, tremulous tone breaking a silence that had continued for some hours. "Messmates," said Tim Rokens, who for some time had leaned with both elbows on his oar and his face buried in his hands, "wot d'ye say to a bath? I do believe it 'ud do us good." "P'haps it would," replied King Bumble; but he did not move, and the other men made no reply, while Rokens again sank forward. Gurney and Tarquin had tried to relieve their thirst the day before by drinking sea-water, but their inflamed and swollen throats and lips now showed that the relief sought had not been obtained. "It's time for supper," said the captain, raising his head suddenly, and laying Ailie down, for she had fallen into a lethargic slumber; "fetch me the bread and meat can." Dick Barnes obeyed reluctantly, and the usual small allowance of salt junk was weighed out, but there were no eager glances now. Most of the crew refused to touch food--one or two tried to eat a morsel of biscuit without success. "I'll try a swim," cried Glynn, suddenly starting up with the intention of leaping overboard. But his strength was more exhausted than he had fancied, for he only fell against the side of the boat. It was as well that he failed. Had he succeeded in getting into the water he could not have clambered in again, and it is doubtful whether his comrades had sufficient strength left to have dragged him in. "Try it this way, lad," said Tim Rokens, taking up a bucket, and dipping it over the side. "P'raps it'll do as well." He raised the bucket with some difficulty and poured its contents over Glynn's head. "Thank God!" said Glynn, with a deep, long-drawn sigh. "Do it again, Tim, do it again. That's it,--again, again! No, stop; forgive my selfishness; here, give me the bucket, I'll do it to you now." Tim Rokens was quickly drenched from head to foot, and felt great and instantaneous relief. In a few minutes every one in the boat, Jacko included, was subjected to this species of cold bath, and their spirits rose at once. Some of them even began to eat their food, and Briant actually attempted to perpetrate a joke, which Gurney seconded promptly, but they failed to make one, even a bad one, between them. Although the cold bathing seemed good for them at first, it soon proved to be hurtful. Sitting and lying constantly night and day in saturated clothes had the effect of rendering their skins painfully sensitive, and a feverish feeling was often alternated with cold shivering fits, so they were fain to give it up. Still they had found some slight relief, and they bore their sufferings with calm resignation--a state of mind which was fostered, if not induced, by the blessed words of comfort and hope which the captain read to them from the Bible as frequently as his strength would permit, and to which they listened with intense, all-absorbing interest. It is ever thus with men. When death approaches, in almost all instances, we are ready--ay, anxious--to listen with the deepest interest to God's message of salvation through His Son, and to welcome and long for the influences of the Holy Spirit. Oh! how happy should we be in life and in death, did we only give heartfelt interest to our souls' affairs _before_ the days of sorrow and death arrive. On the fifth morning after the water had been exhausted the sun arose in the midst of dark clouds. The men could scarcely believe their eyes. They shouted and, in their weakness, laughed for joy. The blessing was not long delayed. Thick vapours veiled the red sun soon after it emerged from the sea, then a few drops of rain fell. Blessed drops! How the men caught at them! How they spread out oiled cloths and tarpaulins and garments to gather them! How they grudged to see them falling around the boat into the sea, and being lost to them for ever. But the blessing was soon sent liberally. The heavens above grew black, and the rain came down in thick heavy showers. The tarpaulins were quickly filled, and the men lay with their lips to the sweet pools, drinking-in new life, and dipping their heads and hands in the cool liquid when they could drink no more. Their thirst was slaked at last, and they were happy. All their past sufferings were forgotten in that great hour of relief, and they looked, and laughed, and spoke to each other like men who were saved from death. As they stripped off their garments and washed the encrusted salt from their shrunken limbs, all of them doubtless felt, and some of them audibly expressed, gratitude to the "Giver of every good and perfect gift." So glad were they, and so absorbed in their occupation, that they thought not of and cared not for the fact that a great storm was about to break upon them. It came upon them almost before they were aware, and before the sails could be taken in the boat was almost upset. "Stand-by to lower the sails!" shouted the captain, who was the first to see their danger. The old familiar command issued with something of the old familiar voice and energy caused every one to leap to his post, if not with the agility of former times, at least with all the good will. "Let go!" The halyards were loosed, and the sails came tumbling down; at the same moment the squall burst on them. The _Maid of the Isle_ bent over so quickly that every one expected she would upset; the blue water curled in over the edge of the gunwale, and the foam burst from her bows at the rude shock. Then she hissed through the water as she answered the helm, righted quickly, and went tearing away before the wind at a speed that she had not known for many days. It was a narrow escape. The boat was nearly filled with water, and, worst of all, the provision can, along with Ailie's sleeping-box, were washed overboard and lost. It was of no use attempting to recover them. All the energies of the crew were required to bale out the water and keep the boat afloat, and during the whole storm some of them were constantly employed in baling. For three days it blew a perfect hurricane, and during all that time the men had nothing whatever to eat; but they did not suffer so much as might be supposed. The gnawing pangs of hunger do not usually last beyond a few days when men are starving. After that they merely feel ever-increasing weakness. During the fall of the rain they had taken care to fill their jars, so that they had now a good supply of water. After the first burst of the squall had passed, the tarpaulins were spread over the boat, and under one of these, near the stern, Ailie was placed, and was comparatively sheltered and comfortable. Besides forming a shelter for the men while they slept, these tarpaulins threw off the waves that frequently broke over the boat, and more than once bid fair to sink her altogether. These arose in enormous billows, and the gale was so violent that only the smallest corner of the foresail could be raised--even that was almost sufficient to tear away the mast. At length the gale blew itself out, and gradually decreased to a moderate breeze, before which the sails were shaken out, and on the fourth morning after it broke they found themselves sweeping quickly over the waves on their homeward way, but without a morsel of food, and thoroughly exhausted in body and in mind. On that morning, however, they passed a piece of floating seaweed, a sure indication of their approach to land. Captain Dunning pointed it out to Ailie and the crew with a cheering remark that they would probably soon get to the end of their voyage; but he did not feel much hope; for, without food, they could not exist above a few days more at the furthest--perhaps not so long. That same evening, several small sea-birds came towards the boat, and flew inquiringly round it, as if they wondered what it could be doing there, so far away from the haunts of men. These birds were evidently unaccustomed to man, for they exhibited little fear. They came so near to the boat that one of them was at length caught. It was the negro who succeeded in knocking it on the head with a boat-hook as it flew past. Great was the praise bestowed on King Bumble for this meritorious deed, and loud were the praises bestowed on the bird itself, which was carefully divided into equal portions (and a small portion for Jacko), and eaten raw. Not a morsel of it was lost--claws, beak, blood, bones, and feathers--all were eaten up. In order to prevent dispute or jealousy, the captain made Ailie turn her back on the bird when thus divided, and pointing to the different portions, he said-- "Who shall have this?" Whoever was named by Ailie had to be content with what thus fell to his share. "Ah, but ye wos always an onlucky dog!" exclaimed Briant, to whom fell the head and claws. "Ye've no reason to grumble," replied Gurney; "ye've got all the brains to yerself, and no one needs them more." The catching of this bird was the saving of the crew, and it afforded them a good deal of mirth in the dividing of it. The heart and a small part of the breast fell to Ailie--which every one remarked was singularly appropriate; part of a leg and the tail fell to King Bumble; and the lungs and stomach became the property of Jim Scroggles, whereupon Briant remarked that he would "think as much almost o' _that_ stomach as he had iver done of his own!" But there was much of sadness mingled with their mirth, for they felt that the repast was a peculiarly light one, and they had scarcely strength left to laugh or jest. Next morning they knocked down another bird, and in the evening they got two more. The day after that they captured an albatross, which furnished them at last with an ample supply of fresh food. It was Mr Markham, the second mate, who first saw the great bird looming in the distance, as it sailed over the sea towards them. "Let's try to fish for him," said the doctor. "I've heard of sea-birds being caught in that way before now." "Fish for it!" exclaimed Ailie in surprise. "Ay, with hook and line, Ailie." "I've seen it done often," said the captain. "Hand me the line, Bumble, and a bit o' that bird we got yesterday. Now for it." By the time the hook was baited, the albatross had approached near to the boat, and hovered around it with that curiosity which seems to be a characteristic feature of all sea-birds. It was an enormous creature; but Ailie, when she saw it in the air, could not have believed it possible that it was so large as it was afterwards found to be on being measured. "Here, Glynn, catch hold of the line," said the captain, as he threw the hook overboard, and allowed it to trail astern; "you are the strongest man amongst us now, I think; starvation don't seem to tell so much on your young flesh and bones as on ours!" "No; it seems to agree with his constitution," remarked Gurney. "It's me that wouldn't give much for his flesh," observed Briant; "but his skin and bones would fetch a good price in the leather and rag market." While his messmates were thus freely remarking on his personal appearance--which, to say truth, was dreadfully haggard--Glynn was holding the end of the line, and watching the motions of the albatross with intense interest. "He won't take it," observed the captain. "Me tink him will," said Bumble. "No go," remarked Nikel Sling sadly. "That was near," said the first mate eagerly, as the bird made a bold swoop down towards the bait, which was skipping over the surface of the water. "No, he's off," cried Mr Markham in despair. "Cotched! or I'm a Dutchman!" shouted. Gurney. "No!" cried Jim Scroggles. "Yes!" screamed Ailie. "Hurrah!" shouted Tim Rokens and Tarquin in a breath. Dick Barnes, and the doctor, and the captain, and, in short, everybody, echoed the last sentiment, and repeated it again and again with delight as they saw the gigantic bird once again swoop down upon the bait and seize it. Glynn gave a jerk, the hook caught in its tongue, and the albatross began to tug, and swoop, and whirl madly in its effort to escape. Now, to talk of any ordinary bird swooping, and fluttering, and tugging, does not sound very tremendous; but, reader, had you witnessed the manner in which that enormous albatross conducted itself, you wouldn't have stared with amazement--oh, no! You wouldn't have gone home with your mouth as wide open as your eyes, and have given a gasping account of what you had seen--by no means! You wouldn't have talked of feathered steam-engines, or of fabled rocs, or of winged elephants in the air--certainly not! Glynn's arms jerked as if he were holding on to the sheet of a shifting mainsail of a seventy-four. "Bear a hand," he cried, "else I'll be torn to bits." Several hands grasped the line in a moment. "My! wot a wopper," exclaimed Tim Rokens. "Och! don't he pull? Wot a fortin he'd make av he'd only set his-self up as a tug-boat in the Thames!" "If only we had him at the oar for a week," added Gurney. "Hoich! doctor, have ye strength to set disjointed limbs?" "Have a care, lads," cried the captain, in some anxiety; "give him more play, the line won't stand it. Time enough to jest after we've got him." The bird was now swooping, and waving, and beating its great wings so close to the boat that they began to entertain some apprehension lest any of the crew should be disabled by a stroke from them before the bird could be secured. Glynn, therefore, left the management of the line to others, and, taking up an oar, tried to strike it. But he failed in several attempts. "Wait till we haul him nearer, boy," said the captain. "Now, then!" Glynn struck again, and succeeded in hitting it a slight blow. At the same instant the albatross swept over the boat, and almost knocked the doctor overboard. As it brushed past, King Bumble, who was gifted with the agility of a monkey, leaped up, caught it round the neck, and the next moment the two were rolling together in the bottom of the boat. The creature was soon strangled, and a mighty cheer greeted this momentous victory. We are not aware that albatross flesh is generally considered very desirable food, but we are certain that starving men are particularly glad to get it, and that the supply now obtained by the wrecked mariners was the means of preserving their lives until they reached the land, which they did ten days afterwards, having thus accomplished a voyage of above two thousand miles over the ocean in an open boat in the course of eight weeks, and on an amount of food that was barely sufficient for one or two weeks' ordinary consumption. Great commiseration was expressed for them by the people at the Cape, who vied with each other in providing for their wants, and in showing them kindness. Ailie and her father were carried off bodily by a stout old merchant, with a broad kind face, and a hearty, boisterous manner, and lodged in his elegant villa during their stay in that quarter of the world, which was protracted some time in order that they might recruit the wasted strength of the party ere they commenced their voyage home in a vessel belonging to the same stout, broad-faced, and vociferous merchant. Meanwhile, several other ships departed for America, and by one of these Captain Dunning wrote to his sisters Martha and Jane. The captain never wrote to Martha or to Jane separately--he always wrote to them conjointly as "Martha Jane Dunning." The captain was a peculiar letter-writer. Those who may feel curious to know more about this matter are referred for further information to the next chapter. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. HOME, SWEET HOME--THE CAPTAIN TAKES HIS SISTERS BY SURPRISE--A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. It is a fact which we cannot deny, however much we may feel disposed to marvel at it, that laughter and weeping, at one and the same time, are compatible. The most resolute sceptic on this point would have been convinced of the truth of it had he been introduced into the Misses Martha and Jane Dunning's parlour on the beautiful summer morning in which the remarkable events we are about to relate occurred. On the morning in question, a letter-carrier walked up to the cottage with the yellow-painted face, and with the green door, so like a nose in the middle; and the window on each side thereof, so like its eyes; and the green Venetian blinds, that served so admirably for eyelids, attached thereto--all of which stood, and beamed, and luxuriated, and vegetated, and grew old in the centre of the town on the eastern seaboard of America, whose name (for strictly private reasons) we have firmly declined, and do still positively refuse to communicate. Having walked up to the cottage, the letter-carrier hit it a severe smash on its green nose, as good Captain Dunning had done many, many months before. The result now, as then, was the opening thereof by a servant-girl--the servant-girl of old. The letter-carrier was a taciturn man; he said nothing, but handed in the letter, and went his way. The servant-girl was a morose damsel; she said nothing, but took the letter, shut the door, and laid it (the letter, not the door) on the breakfast-table, and went her way--which way was the way of all flesh, fish, and fowl--namely, the kitchen, where breakfast was being prepared. Soon after the arrival of the letter Miss Jane Dunning--having put on an immaculately clean white collar and a spotlessly beautiful white cap with pink ribbons, which looked, if possible, taller than usual-- descended to the breakfast-parlour. Her eye instantly fell on the letter, and she exclaimed--"Oh!" at the full pitch of her voice. Indeed, did not respect for the good lady forbid, we would say that she _yelled_ "Oh!" Instantly, as if by magic, a faint "oh!" came down-stairs like an echo, from the region of Miss Martha Dunning's bedroom, and was followed up by a "What is it?" so loud that the most unimaginative person could not have failed to perceive that the elder sister had opened her door and put her head over the banisters. "What is it?" repeated Miss Martha. "A letter!" answered Miss Jane. "Who from?" (in eager surprise, from above.) "Brother George!" (in eager delight, from below.) Miss Jane had not come to this knowledge because of having read the letter, for it still lay on the table unopened, but because she could not read it at all! One of Captain Dunning's peculiarities was that he wrote an execrably bad and illegible hand. His English was good, his spelling pretty fair, considering the absurd nature of the orthography of his native tongue, and his sense was excellent, but the whole was usually shrouded in hieroglyphical mystery. Miss Jane could only read the opening "My dearest Sisters," and the concluding "George Dunning," nothing more. But Miss Martha could, by the exercise of some rare power, spell out her brother's hand, though not without much difficulty. "I'm coming," shouted Miss Martha. "Be quick!" screamed Miss Jane. In a few seconds Miss Martha entered the room with her cap and collar, though faultlessly clean and stiff, put on very much awry. "Give it me! Where is it?" Miss Jane pointed to the letter, still remaining transfixed to the spot where her eye had first met it, as if it were some dangerous animal which would bite if she touched it. Miss Martha snatched it up, tore it open, and flopped down on the sofa. Miss Jane snatched up an imaginary letter, tore it open (in imagination), and flopping down beside her sister, looked over her shoulder, apparently to make believe to herself that she read it along with her. Thus they read and commented on the captain's letter in concert. "`Table Bay'--dear me! what a funny bay that must be--`My dearest Sisters'--the darling fellow, he always begins that way, don't he, Jane dear?" "Bless him! he does, Martha dear." "`We've been all'--I can't make this word out, can you, dear?" "No, love." "`We've been all-worked!' No, it can't be that. Stay, `We've been all _wrecked_!'" Here Martha laid down the letter with a look of horror, and Jane, with a face of ashy paleness, exclaimed, "Then they're lost!" "But no," cried Martha, "George could not have written to us from Tablecloth Bay had he been lost." "Neither he could!" exclaimed Jane, eagerly. Under the influence of the revulsion of feeling this caused, Martha burst into tears and Jane into laughter. Immediately after, Jane wept and Martha laughed; then they both laughed and cried together, after which they felt for their pocket-handkerchiefs, and discovered that in their haste they had forgotten them; so they had to call the servant-girl and send her up-stairs for them; and when the handkerchiefs were brought, they had to be unfolded before the sisters could dry their eyes. When they had done so, and were somewhat composed, they went on with the reading of the letter. "`We've been all wrecked'--Dreadful--`and the poor _Red Angel_'"--"Oh! it can't be that, Martha dear!" "Indeed, it looks very like it, Jane darling. Oh! I see; it's _Eric_--`and the poor _Red Eric_ has been patched,' or--`pitched on a rock and smashed to sticks and stivers'--Dear me! what can that be? I know what `sticks' are, but I can't imagine what `stivers' mean. Can you, Jane?" "Haven't the remotest idea; perhaps Johnson, or Walker, or Webster may-- yes, Webster is sure to." "Oh! never mind just now, dear Jane, we can look it up afterwards--`stivers--sticks and stivers'--something very dreadful, I fear. `But we're all safe and well now'--I'm _so_ thankful!--`and we've been stumped'--No `starved nearly to death, too. My poor Ailie was thinner than ever I saw her before'--This is horrible, dear Jane." "Dreadful, darling Martha." "`But she's milk and butter'--It can't be that--`milk and'--oh!--`much better now.'" At this point Martha laid down the letter, and the two sisters wept for a few seconds in silence. "Darling Ailie!" said Martha, drying her eyes, "how thin she must have been!" "Ah! yes, and no one to take in her frocks." "`We'll be home in less than no time,'" continued Martha, reading, "`so you may get ready for us. Glynn will have tremendous long yarns to spin to you when we come back, and so will Ailie. She has seen a Lotofun since we left you'--Bless me! what _can_ that be, Jane?" "Very likely some terrible sea monster, Martha; how thankful we ought to be that it did not eat her!--`seen a Lotofun'--strange!--`a Lot--o''-- Oh!--`_lot o' fun_!'--that's it! how stupid of me!--`and my dear pet has been such an ass'--Eh! for shame, brother." "Don't you think, dear, Martha, that there's some more of that word on the next line?" "So there is, I'm _so_ stupid--`istance'--It's not rightly divided though--`as-sistance and a comfort to me.' I knew it couldn't be ass." "So did I. Ailie an ass! precious child!" "`Now, good-bye t'ye, my dear lassies,' "`Ever your affectionate brother,' "(Dear Fellow!) "`GEORGE DUNNING.'" Now it chanced that the ship which conveyed the above letter across the Atlantic was a slow sailer and was much delayed by contrary winds. And it also chanced--for odd coincidences do happen occasionally in human affairs--that the vessel in which Captain Dunning with Ailie and his crew embarked some weeks later was a fast-sailing ship, and was blown across the sea with strong favouring gales. Hence it fell out that the first vessel entered port on Sunday night, and the second cast anchor in the same port on Monday morning. The green-painted door, therefore, of the yellow-faced cottage, had scarcely recovered from the assault of the letter-carrier, when it was again struck violently by the impatient Captain Dunning. Miss Martha, who had just concluded and refolded the letter, screamed "Oh!" and leaped up. Miss Jane did the same, with this difference, that she leaped up before screaming "Oh!" instead of after doing so. Then both ladies, hearing voices outside, rushed towards the door of the parlour with the intention of flying to their rooms and there carefully arranging their tall white caps and clean white collars, and keeping the early visitor, whoever he or she might be, waiting fully a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, before they should descend, stiffly, starchly, and ceremoniously, to receive him--or her. These intentions were frustrated by the servant-girl, who opened the green-painted door and let in the captain, who rushed into the parlour and rudely kissed his speechless sisters. "Can it be?" gasped Martha. Jane had meant to gasp "Impossible!" but seeing Ailie at that moment bound into Martha's arms, she changed her intention, uttered a loud scream instead, and fell down flat upon the floor under the impression that she had fainted. Finding, however, that this was not the case, she got up again quickly--ignorant of the fact that the tall cap had come off altogether in the fall--and stood before her sister weeping, and laughing, and wringing her hands, and waiting for her turn. But it did not seem likely to come soon, for Martha continued to hug Ailie, whom she had raised entirely from the ground, with passionate fervour. Seeing this, and feeling that to wait was impossible, Jane darted forward, threw her arms round Ailie--including Martha, as an unavoidable consequence--and pressed the child's back to her throbbing bosom. Between the two poor Ailie was nearly suffocated. Indeed, she was compelled to scream, not because she wished to, but because Martha and Jane squeezed a scream out of her. The scream acted on the former as a reproof. She resigned Ailie to Jane, flung herself recklessly on the sofa, and kicked. Meanwhile, Captain Dunning stood looking on, rubbing his hands,-- slapping his thighs, and blowing his nose. The servant-girl also stood looking on doing nothing--her face was a perfect blaze of amazement. "Girl," said the captain, turning suddenly towards her, "is breakfast ready?" "Yes," gasped the girl. "Then fetch it." The girl did not move. "D'ye hear?" cried the captain. "Ye-es." "Then look alive." The captain followed this up with a roar and such an indescribably ferocious demonstration that the girl fled in terror to the culinary regions, where she found the cat breakfasting on a pat of butter. The girl yelled, and flung first a saucepan, and after that the lid of a teapot, at the thief. She failed, of course, in this effort to commit murder, and the cat vanished. Breakfast was brought, but, excepting in the captain's case, breakfast was not eaten. What between questioning, and crying, and hysterical laughing, and replying, and gasping, explaining, misunderstanding, exclaiming, and choking, the other members of the party that breakfasted that morning in the yellow cottage with the much-abused green door, did little else than upset tea-cups and cream-pots, and sputter eggs about, and otherwise make a mess of the once immaculate tablecloth. "Oh, Aunt Martha!" exclaimed Ailie, in the midst of a short pause in the storm, "I'm _so_ very, very, _very_ glad to be home!" The child said this with intense fervour. No one but he who has been long, long away from the home of his childhood, and had come back after having despaired of ever seeing it again, can imagine with what deep fervour she said it, and then burst into tears. Aunt Jane at that moment was venturing to swallow her first mouthful of tea, so she gulped and choked, and Aunt Martha spent the next five minutes in violently beating the poor creature's back, as if she deemed choking a serious offence which merited severe punishment. As for the captain, that unfeeling monster went on grinning from ear to ear, and eating a heavy breakfast, as if nothing had happened. But a close observer might have noticed a curious process going on at the starboard side of his weather-beaten nose. In one of his many desperate encounters with whales, Captain Dunning had had the end of a harpoon thrust accidentally into the prominent member of his face just above the bridge. A permanent little hole was the result, and on the morning of which we write, a drop of water got into that hole continually, and when it rolled out--which it did about once every two minutes--and fell into the captain's tea-cup, it was speedily replaced by another drop, which trickled into the depths of that small cavern on the starboard side of the captain's nose. We don't pretend to account for that curious phenomenon. We merely record the fact. While the breakfast party were yet in this April mood, a knock was heard at the outer door. "Visitors!" said Martha, with a look that would have led a stranger to suppose that she held visitors in much the same estimation as tax-gatherers. "How awkward!" exclaimed Aunt Jane. "Send 'em away, girl," cried the captain. "We're all engaged. Can't see any one to-day." In a moment the servant-girl returned. "He says he _must_ see you." "See who?" cried the captain. "See _you_, sir." "Must he; then he shan't. Tell him that." "Please, sir, he says he won't go away." "Won't he?" As he said this the captain set his teeth, clenched his fists, and darted out of the room. "Oh! George! Stop him! do stop him. He's _so_ violent! He'll do something dreadful!" said Aunt Martha. "Will no one call out murder?" groaned Aunt Jane, with a shudder. As no one, however, ventured to check Captain Dunning, he reached the door, and confronted a rough, big, burly sailor, who stood outside with a free-and-easy expression of countenance, and his hands in his trousers pockets. "Why don't you go away when you're told, eh?" shouted the captain. "'Cause I won't," answered the man coolly. The captain stepped close up, but the sailor stood his ground and grinned. "Now, my lad, if you don't up anchor and make sail right away, I'll knock in your daylights." "No, you won't do nothin' o' the kind, old gen'lem'n; but you'll double-reef your temper, and listen to wot I've got to say; for it's very partikler, an' won't keep long without spilin'." "What have you got to say, then?" said the captain, becoming interested, but still feeling nettled at the interruption. "Can't tell you here." "Why not?" "Never mind; but put on your sky-scraper, and come down with me to the grog-shop wot I frequents, and I'll tell ye." "I'll do nothing of the sort; be off," cried the captain, preparing to slam the door. "Oh! it's all the same to me, in coorse, but I rather think if ye know'd that it's 'bout the _Termagant_, and that 'ere whale wot--but it don't matter. Good-mornin'." "Stay," cried the captain, as the last words fell on his ears. "Have you really anything to say to me about that ship?" "In coorse I has." "Won't you come in and say it here?" "Not by no means. You must come down to the grog-shop with _me_." "Well, I'll go." So saying the captain ran back to the parlour; said, in hurried tones, that he had to go out on matters of importance, but would be back to dine at five, and putting on his hat, left the cottage in company with the strange sailor. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. CAPTAIN DUNNING ASTONISHES THE STRANGER--SURPRISING NEWS, AND DESPERATE RESOLVES. Still keeping his hands in his pockets and the free-and-easy expression on his countenance, the sailor swaggered through the streets of the town with Captain Dunning at his side, until he arrived at a very dirty little street, near the harbour, the chief characteristics of which were noise, compound smells, and little shops with sea-stores hung out in front. At the farther end of this street the sailor paused before a small public-house. "Here we are," said he; "this is the place w'ere I puts up w'en I'm ashore--w'ich ain't often--that's a fact. After you, sir." The captain hesitated. "You ain't afraid, air you?" asked the sailor, in an incredulous tone. "No, I'm not, my man; but I have an objection to enter a public-house, unless I cannot help it. Have you had a glass this morning?" The sailor looked puzzled, as if he did not see very clearly what the question had to do with the captain's difficulty. "Well, for the matter o' that, I've had three glasses this mornin'." "Then I suppose you have no objection to try a glass of my favourite tipple, have you?" The man smiled, and wiping his mouth with the cuff of his jacket, as if he expected the captain was, then and there, about to hand him a glass of the tipple referred to, said-- "No objection wotsomediver." "Then follow me; I'll take you to the place where _I_ put up sometimes when I'm ashore. It's not far off." Five minutes sufficed to transport them from the dirty little street near the harbour to the back-parlour of the identical coffee-house in which the captain was first introduced to the reader. Here, having whispered something to the waiter, he proceeded to question his companion on the mysterious business for which he had brought him there. "Couldn't we have the tipple first?" suggested the sailor. "It will be here directly. Have you breakfasted?" "'Xceptin' the three glasses I told ye of--no." Well, now, what have you to tell me about the _Termagant_? You have already said that you are one of her crew, and that you were in the boat that day when we had a row about the whale. What more can you tell me? The sailor sat down on a chair, stretched out his legs quite straight, and very wide apart, and thrust his hands, if possible, deeper into his pockets than they even were thrust before--so deep, in fact, as to suggest the idea that there were no pockets there at all--merely holes. Then he looked at Captain Dunning with a peculiarly sly expression of countenance and winked. "Well, that's not much. Anything more?" inquired the captain. "Ho, yes; lots more. The _Termagant's_ in this yere port--at--this-- yere--moment." The latter part of this was said in a hoarse emphatic whisper, and the man raising up both legs to a horizontal position, let them fall so that his heels came with a crash upon the wooden floor. "Is she?" cried the captain, with lively interest; "and her captain?" "He's--yere--too!" Captain Dunning took one or two hasty strides across the floor, as if he were pacing his own quarterdeck--then stopped suddenly and said-- "Can you get hold of any more of that boat's crew?" "I can do nothin' more wotiver, nor say nothin' more wotsomediver, till I've tasted that 'ere tipple of yourn." The captain rang the bell, and the waiter entered with ham and eggs, buttered toast, and hot coffee for two. The sailor opened his eyes to their utmost possible width, and made an effort to thrust his hands still deeper into his unfathomable trousers pockets; then he sat bolt upright, and gathering his legs as close under his chair as possible, clasped his knees with his hands, hugged himself, and grinned from ear to ear. After sitting a second or two in that position, he jumped up, and going forward to the table, took up the plate of ham and eggs, as if to make sure that it was a reality, and smelt it. "Is _this_ your favourite tipple?" he said, on being quite satisfied of the reality of what he saw. "Coffee is my favourite drink," replied the captain, laughing. "I never take anything stronger." "Ho! you're a to-teetler?" "I am. Now, my man, as you have not yet had breakfast, and as you interrupted me in the middle of mine, suppose we sit down and discuss the matter of the whale over this." "Well, this is the rummiest way of offerin' to give a fellow a glass as I ever did come across since I was a tadpole, as sure as my name's Dick Jones," remarked the sailor, sitting down opposite the captain, and turning up the cuffs of his coat. Having filled his mouth to its utmost possible extent, the astonished seaman proceeded, at one and the same time, to masticate and to relate all that he knew in regard to the _Termagant_. He said that not only was that vessel in port at that time, but that the same men were still aboard; that the captain--Dixon by name--was still in command, and that the whale which had been seized from the crew of the _Red Eric_ had been sold along with the rest of the cargo. He related; moreover, how that he and his comrades had been very ill-treated by Captain Dixon during the voyage, and that he (Captain D) was, in the opinion of himself and his shipmates, the greatest blackguard afloat, and had made them so miserable by his brutality and tyranny, that they all hoped they might never meet with his like again-- not to mention the hopes and wishes of a very unfeeling nature which they one and all expressed in regard to that captain's future career. Besides all this, he stated that he (Dick Jones) had recognised Captain Dunning when he landed that morning, and had followed him to the cottage with the yellow face and the green door; after which he had taken a turn of half-an-hour or so up and down the street to think what he ought to do, and had at last resolved to tell all that he knew, and offer to stand witness against his captain, which he was then and there prepared to do, at that time or at any future period, wherever he (Captain Dunning) liked, and whenever he pleased, and that there was an end of the whole matter, and that was a fact. Having unburdened his mind, and eaten all the ham, and eggs, and toast, and drunk all the coffee, and asked for more and got it, Dick Jones proceeded to make himself supremely happy by filling his pipe and lighting it. "I'll take him to law," said Captain Dunning firmly, smiting the table with his fist. "I know'd a feller," said Jones, "wot always said, w'en he heard a feller say that, `You'll come for to wish that ye hadn't;' but I think ye're right, cap'en; for it's a clear case, clear as daylight; an' we'll all swear to a'most anything as'll go fur to prove it." "But are you sure your messmates are as willing as you are to witness against the captain?" "Sure? In coorse I is--sartin sure. Didn't he lamp two on 'em with a rope's-end once till they wos fit to bust, and all for nothin' but skylarkin'? They'll all go in the same boat with me, 'cept perhaps the cook, who is named Baldwin. He's a cross-grained critter, an'll stan' by the cap'en through thick an thin, an' so will the carpenter--Box they call him--he's dead agin us; but that's all." "Then I'll do it at once," cried Captain Dunning, rising and putting on his hat firmly, as a man does when he has made a great resolve, which he more than half suspects will get him into a world of difficulties and trouble. "I s'pose I may set here till ye come back?" inquired Dick Jones, who now wore a dim mysterious aspect, in consequence of the cloud of smoke in which he had enveloped himself. "You may sit there till they turn you out; but come and take breakfast with me at the same hour to-morrow, will ye?" "Won't I?" "Then good-day." So saying, the captain left the coffee-house, and hurried to his sisters' cottage, where he rightly conjectured he should find Glynn Proctor. Without telling his sisters the result of the interview with the "rude seaman," he took Glynn's arm and sallied forth in search of Tim Rokens and Mr Millons, both of whom they discovered enjoying their pipes, after a hearty breakfast, in a small, unpretending, but excellent and comfortable "sailors' home," in the dirty little street before referred to. The greater part of the crew of the late _Red Eric_ (now "sticks and stivers") were found in the same place, engaged in much the same occupation, and to these, in solemn conclave assembled, Captain Dunning announced his intention of opening a law-suit against the captain of the _Termagant_ for the unlawful appropriation of the whale harpooned by Glynn. The men highly approved of what they called a "shore-going scrimmage," and advised the captain to go and have the captain and crew of the _Termagant_ "put in limbo right off." Thus advised and encouraged, Captain Dunning went to a lawyer, who, after hearing the case, stated it as his opinion that it was a good one, and forthwith set about taking the needful preliminary steps to commencing the action. Thereafter Captain Dunning walked rapidly home, wiping his hot brow as he went, and entering the parlour of the cottage--the yellow-faced cottage--flung himself on the sofa with a reckless air, and said, "I've done it!" "Horror!" cried Aunt Martha. "Misery!" gasped Aunt Jane, who happened to be fondling Ailie at the time of her brother's entrance. "Is he dead?" "_Quite_ dead?" added Martha. "Is _who_ dead?" inquired the captain, in surprise. "The man--the rude sailor!" "Dead! No." "You said just now that you had done it." "So I have. I've done the deed. I've gone to law." Had the captain said that he had gone to "sticks and stivers," his sisters could not have been more startled and horrified. They dreaded the law, and hated it with a great and intense hatred, and not without reason; for their father had been ruined in a law-suit, and his father had broken the law, in some political manner they could never clearly understand, and had been condemned by the law to perpetual banishment. "Will it do you much harm, dear, papa?" inquired Ailie, in great concern. "Harm? Of course not. I hope it'll do me, and you too, a great deal of good." "I'm _so_ glad to hear that; for I've heard people say that when you once go into it you never get out of it again." "So have I," said Aunt Martha, with a deep sigh. "And so have I," added Aunt Jane, with a deeper sigh, "and I believe it's true." "It's false!" cried the captain, laughing, "and you are all silly geese; the law is--" "A bright and glorious institution! A desirable investment for the talents of able men! A machine for justice usually--injustice occasionally--and, like all other good things, often misused, abused, and spoken against!" said Glynn Proctor, at that moment entering the room, and throwing his hat on one chair, and himself on another. "I've had enough of the sea, captain, and have come to resign my situation, and beg for dinner." "You shall have it immediately, dear Glynn," said Martha, whose heart warmed at the sight of one who had been so kind to her little niece. "Nay, I'm in no hurry," said Glynn, quickly; "I did but jest, dear madam, as Shakespeare has it. Perhaps it was Milton who said it; one can't be sure; but whenever a truly grand remark escapes you, you're safe to clap it down to Shakespeare." At this point the servant-girl announced dinner. At the same instant a heavy foot was heard in the passage, and Tim Rokens announced himself, saying that he had just seen the captain's lawyer, and had been sent to say that he wished to see Captain Dunning in the course of the evening. "Then let him go on wishing till I'm ready to go to him. Meanwhile do you come and dine with us, Rokens, my lad." Rokens looked awkward, and shuffled a little with his feet, and shook his head. "Why, what's the matter, man?" Rokens looked as if he wished to speak, but hesitated. "If ye please, cap'en, I'd raither not, axin' the ladies' parding. I'd like a word with you in the passage." "By all means," replied the captain, going out of the room with the sailor. "Now, what's wrong?" "My flippers, cap'en," said Rokens, thrusting out his hard, thick, enormous hands, which were stained all over with sundry streaks of tar, and were very red as well as extremely clumsy to look at--"I've bin an' washed 'em with hot water and rubbed 'em with grease till I a'most took the skin off, but they won't come clean, and I'm not fit to sit down with ladies." To this speech the captain replied by seizing Tim Rokens by the collar and dragging him fairly into the parlour. "Here's a man," cried the captain enthusiastically, presenting him to Martha, "who's sailed with me for nigh thirty years, and is the best harpooner I ever had, and has stuck to me through thick and thin, in fair weather and foul, in heat and cold, and was kinder to Ailie during the last voyage than all the other men put together, exceptin' Glynn, and who tells me his hands are covered with tar, and that he can't wash 'em clean nohow, and isn't fit to dine with ladies; so you will oblige me, Martha, by ordering him to leave the house." "I will, brother, with pleasure. I order you, Mr Rokens, to leave this house _at your peril_! And I invite you to partake of our dinner, which is now on the table in the next room." Saying this, Aunt Martha grasped one of the great tar-stained "flippers" in both of her own delicate hands, and shook it with a degree of vigour that Tim Rokens afterwards said he could not have believed possible had he not felt it. Seeing this, Aunt Jane turned aside and blew her nose violently. Tim Rokens attempted to make a bow, failed, and grinned. The captain cried--"Now, then, heave ahead!" Glynn, in the exuberance of his spirits, uttered a miniature cheer. Ailie gave vent to a laugh, that sounded as sweet as a good song; and the whole party adjourned to the dining-room, where the servant-girl was found in the sulks because dinner was getting rapidly cold, and the cat was found:-- "Prowling round the festal board On thievish deeds intent." [See Milton's _Paradise Regained_, latest edition.] CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. THE LAW-SUIT--THE BATTLE, AND THE VICTORY. The great case of Dunning _versus_ Dixon came on at last. On that day Captain Dunning was in a fever; Glynn Proctor was in a fever; Tim Rokens was in a fever; the Misses Dunning were in two separate fevers--everybody, in fact, on the Dunning side of the case was in a fever of nervous anxiety and mental confusion. As witnesses in the case, they had been precognosced to such an extent by the lawyers that their intellects were almost overturned. On being told that he was to be precognosced. Tim Rokens said stoutly, "He'd like to see the man as 'ud do it"; under the impression that that was the legal term for being kicked, or otherwise maltreated; and on being informed that the word signified merely an examination as to the extent of his knowledge of the facts of the case, he said quietly, "Fire away!" Before they had done firing away, the gallant harpooner was so confused that he began to regard the whole case as already hopeless. The other men were much in the same condition; but in a private meeting held among themselves the day before the trial, Rokens made the following speech, which comforted them not a little. "Messmates and shipmates," said Tim, "I'll tell ye wot it is. I'm no lawyer--that's a fact--but I'm a man; an' wot's a man?--it ain't a bundle o' flesh an' bones on two legs, with a turnip a-top o't, is it?" "Be no manes," murmured Briant, with an approving nod. "Cer'nly not," remarked Dick Barnes. "I second that motion." "Good," continued Rokens. "Then, bein' a man, I've got brains enough to see that, if we don't want to contredick one another, we must stick to the truth." "You don't suppose I'd go fur to tell lies, do you?" said Tarquin quickly. "In coorse not. But what I mean to say is, that we must stick to what we _knows_ to be the truth, and not be goin' for to guess at it, or _think_ that we knows it, and then swear to it as if we wos certain sure." "Hear! hear!" from the assembled company. "In fact," observed Glynn, "let what we say be absolutely true, and say just as little as we can. That's how to manage a good case." "An', be all manes," added Briant, "don't let any of ye try for to improve matters be volunteerin' yer opinion. Volunteerin' opinions is stuff. Volunteerin' is altogether a bad look-out. I know'd a feller, I did--a strappin' young feller he was, too, more betoken--as volunteered himself to death, he did. To be sure, his wos a case o' volunteerin' into the Louth Militia, and he wos shot, he wos, in a pop'lar riot, as the noosepapers said--a scrimmage, I calls it--so don't let any o' us be goin' for to volunteer opinions w'en nobody axes 'em--no, nor wants 'em." Briant looked so pointedly at Gurney while delivering this advice that that obese individual felt constrained to look indignant, and inquire whether "them 'ere imperent remarks wos meant for him." To which Briant replied that "they wos meant for him, as well as for ivery man then present." Whereupon Gurney started up and shook his fist across the table at Briant, and Briant made a face at Gurney, at which the assembled company of mariners laughed, and immediately thereafter the meeting was broken up. Next day the trial came on, and as the case was expected to be more than usually interesting, the house was filled to overflowing long before the hour. The trial lasted all that day, and all the next, and a great part of the third, but we do not purpose going into it in detail. The way in which Mr Rasp (Captain Dunning's counsel) and Mr Tooth (Captain Dixon's counsel) badgered, browbeat, and utterly bamboozled the witnesses on both sides, and totally puzzled the jury, can only be understood by those who have frequented courts of law, but could not be fully or adequately described in less than six hundred pages. In the course of the trial the resolutions come to by the crew of the _Red Eric_, that they would tell _nothing_ but the truth, and carefully refrain from touching on what they were not quite sure of, proved to be of the greatest advantage to the pursuer's case. We feel constrained here to turn aside for one moment to advise the general adoption of that course of conduct in all the serious affairs of life. The evidence of Tim Rokens was clear and to the point. The whale had been first struck by Glynn with a harpoon, to which a drogue was attached; it had been followed up by the crew of the _Red Eric_ and also by the crew of the _Termagant_. The boats of the latter over-took the fish first, fixed a harpoon in it, and lanced it mortally. The drogue and harpoon of the _Red Eric_ were still attached to the whale when this was done, so that, according to the laws of the fishery, the crew of the _Termagant_ had no right to touch the whale--it was a "fast" fish. If the drogue had become detached the fish would have been free, and both crews would have been entitled to chase and capture it if they were able. Angry words and threats had passed between the crews of the opposing boats, but the whale put a stop to that by smashing the boat of the _Red Eric_ with its tail, whereupon the boat of the _Termagant_ made off with the fish (which died almost immediately after), and left the crew of the boat belonging to the _Red Eric_ struggling in the water. Such was the substance of the evidence of the harpooner, and neither cross-examination nor re-cross-examination by Mr Tooth, the counsel for the defendant, could induce Tim Rokens to modify, alter, omit, or contradict one iota of what he had said. It must not be supposed, however, that all of the men gave their evidence so clearly or so well. The captain did, though he was somewhat nervous, and the doctor did, and Glynn did. But that of Nikel Sling was unsatisfactory, in consequence of his being unable to repress his natural tendency to exaggeration. Tarquin also did harm; for, in his spite against the crew of the _Termagant_, he made statements which were not true, and his credit as a witness was therefore totally destroyed. Last of all came Jim Scroggles, who, after being solemnly sworn, deposed that he was between thirty-five and thirty-six years of age, on hearing which Gurney said "Oh!" with peculiar emphasis, and the people laughed, and the judge cried "Silence," and the examination went on. After some time Mr Tooth rose to cross-question Jim Scroggles, who happened to be a nervous man in public, and was gradually getting confused and angry. "Now, my man, please to be particular in your replies," said Mr Tooth, pushing up his spectacles on his forehead, thrusting his hands into his trousers pockets, and staring very hard at Jim. "You said that you pulled the second oar from the bow on the day in which the whale was killed." "Yes." "Are you quite sure of that? Was it not the _third_ oar, now?" "Yes or no," interrupted Mr Tooth. "It's so long since--" "Yes or no," repeated Mr Tooth. "Yes," roared Scroggles, forgetting at the moment, in his confusion and indignation at not being allowed to speak, in what manner the question had been put. "Yes," echoed Mr Tooth, addressing the judge, but looking at the jury. "You will observe, gentlemen. Would your lordship be so good as to note that? This witness, on that very particular occasion, when every point in the circumstances must naturally have been impressed deeply on the memories of all present, appears to have been so confused as not to know which oar of the boat he pulled. So, my man" (turning to the witness), "it appears evident that either you are now mis-stating the facts of the case or were then incapable of judging of them." Jim Scroggles felt inclined to leap out of the witness-box, and knocked the teeth of Mr Tooth down his throat! But he repressed the inclination, and that gentleman went on to say-- "When the boat of the _Red Eric_ came up to the whale was the drogue still attached to it?" "In coorse it was. Didn't ye hear me say that three or--" "Be so good as to answer my questions simply, and do not make unnecessary remarks, sir. Was the drogue attached when the boat came up? Yes or no?" "Yes." "How do you know?" "'Cause I seed it." "You are quite sure that you saw it?" "In coorse!--leastwise, Tim Rokens seed it, and all the men in the boat seed it, and said so to me afterwards--w'ich is the same thing, though I can't 'xactly say I seed it myself, 'cause I was looking hard at the men in the enemy's boat, and considerin' which on 'em I should give a dab in the nose to first w'en we come along side of 'em." "Oh, then you did _not_ see the drogue attached to the whale?" said Mr Tooth, with a glance at the jury; "and you were so taken up with the anticipated fight, I suppose, that you scarcely gave your attention to the whale at all! Were the other men in your boat in a similarly unobservant condition?" "Eh?" exclaimed Scroggles. "Were the other men as eager for the fight as you were?" "I s'pose they wos; you'd better ax 'em. _I_ dun know." "No, I don't suppose you do, considering the state of mind you appear to have been in at the time. Do you know which part of the whale struck your boat? Was it the head?" "No; it was the tail." "Are you quite sure of that?" "Ho, yes, quite sartin, for I've got a knot on my head this day where the tip of its flukes came down on me." "You're quite sure of that? Might it not have been the part of the fish near the tail, now, that struck you, or the fin just under the tail?" "No; I'm quite sartin sure it warn't _that_." "How are you so sure it wasn't that?" "Because whales hain't got no fins just under their tails!" replied Scroggles, with a broad grin. There was another loud laugh at this, and Mr Tooth looked a little put out, and the judge cried "Silence" again, and threatened to clear the court. After a few more questions Jim Scroggles was permitted to retire, which he did oppressed with a feeling that his evidence had done the case little good, if not some harm, yet rather elated than otherwise at the success of his last hit. That evening Captain Dunning supped with Ailie and his sisters in low spirits. Glynn and the doctor and Tim Rokens and the two mates, Millons and Markham, supped with him, also in low spirits; and King Bumble acted the part of waiter, for that sable monarch had expressed an earnest desire to become Captain Dunning's servant, and the captain had agreed to "take him on," at least for a time. King Bumble was also in low spirits; and, as a natural consequence, so were Aunts Martha and Jane and little Ailie. It seemed utterly incomprehensible to the males of the party, how so good a case as this should come to wear such an unpromising aspect. "The fact is," said the captain, at the conclusion of a prolonged discussion, "I don't believe we'll gain it." "Neither do I," said the doctor, helping himself to a large quantity of salad, as if that were the only comfort now left to him, and he meant to make the most of it before giving way to total despair. "I knew it," observed Aunt Martha firmly. "I always said the law was a wicked institution." "It's a great shame!" said Aunt Jane indignantly; "but what could we expect? It treats every one ill." "Won't it treat Captain Dixon well, if he wins, aunt?" inquired Ailie. "Dear child, what can you possibly know about law?" said Aunt Martha. "Would you like a little more tart?" asked Aunt Jane. "Bravo! Ailie," cried Glynn, "that's a fair question. I back it up." "How much do you claim for damages, George?" inquired Aunt Martha, changing the subject. ("Question!" whispered Glynn.) "Two thousand pounds," answered the captain. "What!" exclaimed the aunts, in a simultaneous burst of amazement. "All for _one_ fish?" "Ay, it was a big one, you see, and Dick Jones, one of the men of the _Termagant_, told me it was sold for that. It's a profitable fishing, when one doesn't lose one's ship. What do you say to go with me and Ailie on our next trip, sisters? You might use up all your silk and worsted thread and crooked pins." "What nonsense you talk, George; but I suppose you really do use pretty large hooks and lines when you fish for whales?" Aunt Martha addressed the latter part of her remark to Tim Rokens, who seemed immensely tickled by the captain's pleasantry. "Hooks and lines, ma'am!" cried Rokens, regarding his hostess with a look of puzzled surprise. "To be sure we do," interrupted Glynn; "we use anchors baited with live crocodiles--sometimes elephants, when we can't get crocodiles. But hippopotamuses do best." "Oh! Glynn!" cried Ailie, laughing, "how can you?" "It all depends on the drogue," remarked the doctor. "I'm surprised to find how few of the men can state with absolute certainty that they saw the drogue attached to the whale when the boat came up to it. It all hinges upon that." "Yes," observed Mr Millons, "the 'ole case 'inges on that, because that proves it was a fast fish." "Dear me, Mr Millons," said Aunt Martha, smiling, "I have heard of fast young men, but I never heard of a fast fish before." "Didn't you, ma'am?" exclaimed the first mate, looking up in surprise, for that matter-of-fact seamen seldom recognised a joke at first sight. Aunt Martha, who very rarely ventured on the perpetration of a joke, blushed, and turning somewhat hastily to Mr Markham, asked if he would "take another cup of tea." Seeing that there was no tea on the table, she substituted "another slice of ham," and laughed. Thereupon the whole company laughed, and from that moment their spirits began to rise. They began to discuss the more favourable points of the evidence led that day, and when they retired at a late hour to rest, their hopes had again become sanguine. Next morning the examination of the witnesses for the defendant came on. There were more of them than Dick Jones had expected; for the crew of the _Termagant_ happened to be partly made up of very bad men, who were easily bribed by their captain to give evidence in his favour. But it soon became evident that they had not previously determined, as Captain Dunning's men had done, to stick to the simple truth. They not only contradicted each other but each contradicted himself more than once; and it amazed them all, more than they could tell, to find how easily Mr Rasp turned their thoughts outside in, and caused them to prove conclusively that they were telling falsehoods. After the case had been summed up by the judge, the jury retired to consult, but they only remained five minutes away, and then came back with a verdict in favour of the pursuers. "Who's the `pursooers?'" inquired Gurney, when this was announced to him by Nikel Sling. "Ain't we all pursooers? Wasn't we all pursooing the whale together?" "Oh, you grampus!" cried Nikel, laughing. "Don't ye know that _we_ is the purshooers, 'cause why? We're purshooin' the cap'en and crew of the _Termagant_ at law, and means to purshoo 'em too, I guess, till they stumps up for that air whale. And they is the defendants, 'cause they're s'posed to defend themselves to the last gasp; but it ain't o' no manner o' use." Nikel Sling was right. Captain Dixon _was_ pursued until he paid back the value of his ill-gotten whale, and was forcibly reminded by this episode in his career, that "honesty is the best policy" after all. Thus Captain Dunning found himself suddenly put in possession of a sum of two thousand pounds. CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. THE CONCLUSION. The trouble, and worry, and annoyance that the sum of 2000 pounds gave to Captain Dunning is past all belief. That worthy man, knowing that Glynn Proctor had scarcely a penny in the world, not even his "kit" (as sailors name their sea-chests), which had been lost in the wreck of the _Red Eric_, and that the boy was about to be cast upon the world again an almost friendless wanderer--knowing all this, we say, Captain Dunning insisted that as Glynn had been the first to strike the whale, and as no one else had had anything to do with its capture, he (Glynn) was justly entitled to the money. Glynn firmly declined to admit the justice of this view of the case; he had been paid his wages; that was all he had any right to claim; so he positively refused to take the money. But the captain was more than his match. He insisted so powerfully, and argued so logically, that Glynn at last consented, on condition that 500 pounds of it should be distributed among his shipmates. This compromise was agreed to, and thus Glynn came into possession of what appeared in his eyes a fortune of 1500 pounds. "Now, what am I to do with it? that is the question." Glynn propounded this knotty question one evening, about three weeks after the trial, to his friends of the yellow cottage with the green-painted door. "Put it in the bank," suggested Aunt Martha. "Yes, and live on the interest," added Aunt Jane. "Or invest in the whale-fishery," said Captain Dunning, emitting a voluminous cloud of tobacco-smoke, as if to suggest the idea that the investment would probably end in something similar to that. (The captain was a peculiarly favoured individual; he was privileged to smoke in the Misses Dunning's parlour.) "Oh! I'll tell you what to do, Glynn," cried Ailie, clapping her hands; "it would be _so_ nice. Buy a cottage with it--a nice, pretty, white-painted cottage, beside a wood, with a little river in front of it, and a small lake with a boat on it not far off, and a far, far view from the windows of fields, and villages, and churches, and cattle, and sheep, and--" "Hurrah! Ailie, go it, my lass!" interrupted Glynn; "and horses, and ponies, and carts, and cats, and blackbirds, and cocks and hens, and ploughmen, and milkmaids, and beggars, all in the foreground; and coaches, and railroads, and steamboats, and palaces, and canals, in the middle distance; with a glorious background of the mighty sea glittering for ever under the blazing beams of a perpetually setting sun, mingled with the pale rays of an eternally rising moon, and laden with small craft, and whale-ships, and seaweed, and fish, and bumboats, and men-of-war!" "Oh, how nice!" cried Ailie, screaming with delight. "Go ahead, lad, never give in!" said the captain; whose pipe during this glowing description had been keeping up what seemed like a miniature sea-fight. "You've forgot the main point." "What's that?" inquired Glynn. "Why, a palace for Jacko close beside it, with a portrait of Jacko over the drawing-room fireplace, and a marble bust of Jacko in the four corners of every room." "So I did; I forgot that," replied Glynn. "Dear Jacko!" said Ailie, laughing heartily, and holding out her hand. The monkey, which had become domesticated in the house, leaped nimbly upon her knee, and looked up in her face. "Oh! Ailie dear, do put it down!" cried Aunt Jane, shuddering. "How can you?" said Aunt Martha; "dirty beast!" Of course Aunt Martha applied the latter part of her remark to the monkey, not to the child. "I'll never be able to bear it," remarked Aunt Jane. "And it will never come to agree with the cat," observed Aunt Martha. Ailie patted her favourite on the cheek and told it to go away, adding, that it was a dear pet--whereupon that small monkey retired modestly to a corner near the sideboard. It chanced to be the corner nearest to the sugar-basin, which had been left out by accident; but Jacko didn't know that, of course--at least, if he did, he did not say so. It is probable, however, that he found it out in course of time; for an hour or two afterwards the distinct marks of ten very minute fingers were visible therein, a discovery which Aunt Martha made with a scream, and Aunt Jane announced with a shriek--which caused Jacko to retire precipitately. "But really," said Glynn, "jesting apart, I must take to something on shore, for although I like the sea very well, I find that I like the land better." "Well, since you wish to be in earnest about it," said Captain Dunning, "I'll tell you what has been passing in my mind of late. I'm getting to be an oldish young man now, you see, and am rather tired of the sea myself, so I also think of giving it up. I have now laid by about five thousand pounds, and with this I think of purchasing a farm. I learnt something of farming before I took to the sea, so that I am not quite so green on such matters as you might suppose, though I confess I'm rather rusty and behind the age; but that won't much matter in a fine country like this, and I can get a good steward to take command and steer the ship until I have brushed up a bit in shore-goin' navigation. There is a farm which is just the very thing for me not more than twenty miles from this town, with a cottage on it and a view _somewhat_ like the one you and Ailie described a few minutes ago, though not _quite_ so grand. But there's one great and insuperable objection to my taking it." "What is that?" inquired Aunt Martha, who, with her sister, expressed in their looks unbounded surprise at the words of their brother, whom they regarded as so thoroughly and indissolubly connected with the sea that they would probably have been less surprised had he announced it to be his intention to become a fish and thenceforward dwell in a coral cave. "I have not enough of money wherewith to buy and stock it." "_What_ a pity!" said Ailie, whose hopes had been rising with extraordinary rapidity, and were thus quenched at once. Glynn leaped up and smote his thigh with his right hand, and exclaimed in a triumphant manner--"That's the very ticket!" "What's the very ticket?" inquired the captain. "I'll lend you _my_ money," said Glynn. "Ay, boy, that's just the point I was comin' to. A thousand pounds will do. Now, if you lend me that sum, I'm willin' to take you into partnership, and we'll buy the place and farm it together. I think we'll pull well in the same boat, for I think you like me well enough, and I'm sure I like you, and I know Ailie don't object to either of us; and after I'm gone, Glynn, you can work the farm for Ailie and give her her share. What say you?" "Done," exclaimed Glynn, springing up and seizing the captain's hand. "I'll be your son and you'll be my father, and Ailie will be my sister-- and _won't_ we be jolly, just!" Ailie laughed, and so did the two aunts, but the captain made no reply. He merely smoked with a violence that was quite appalling, and nodding his head, winked at Glynn, as if to say--"That's it, exactly!" The compact thus half-jestingly entered into was afterwards thoroughly ratified and carried into effect. The cottage was named the Red Eric, and the property was named the Whale Brae, after an ancestral estate which, it was supposed, had, at some remote period, belonged to the Dunning family in Scotland. The title was not inappropriate, for it occupied the side of a rising ground, which, as a feature in the landscape, looked very like a whale, "only," as Glynn said, "not quite so big," which was an outrageous falsehood, for it was a great deal bigger! A small wooden palace was built for Jacko, and many a portrait was taken of him by Glynn, in charcoal, on many an outhouse wall, to the immense delight of Ailie. As to having busts of him placed in the corners of every room, Glynn remarked that that was quite unnecessary, for Jacko _almost_ "bu'st" himself in every possible way, at every conceivable time, in every imaginable place, whenever he could conveniently collect enough of food to do so--which was not often, for Jacko, though small, was of an elastic as well as an amiable disposition. Tim Rokens stuck to his old commander to the last. He said he had sailed with him the better part of his life, in the same ships, had weathered the same storms, and chased the same fish, and now that the captain had made up his mind to lay up in port, he meant to cast anchor beside him. So the bold harpooner became a species of overseer and jack-of-all-trades on the property. Phil Briant set up as a carpenter in the village close by, took to himself a wife (his first wife having died), and became Tim Rokens' boon companion and bosom friend. As for the rest of the crew of the _Red Eric_, they went their several ways, got into separate ships, and were never again re-assembled together; but nearly all of them came at separate times, in the course of years, to visit their old captain and shipmates in the Red Eric at Whale Brae. In course of time Ailie grew up into such a sweet, pretty, modest, loveable woman, that the very sight of her did one's heart good. Love was the ruling power in Ailie's heart--love to her God and Saviour and to all His creatures. She was not perfect. Who is? She had faults, plenty of them. Who has not? But her loving nature covered up everything with a golden veil so beautiful, that no one saw her faults, or, if they did, would not believe them to be faults at all. Glynn, also, grew up and became a _man_. Observe, reader, we don't mean to say that he became a thing with long legs, and broad shoulders, and whiskers. Glynn became a real man; an out-and-out man; a being who realised the fact that he had been made and born into the world for the purpose of doing that world good, and leaving it better than he found it. He did not think that to strut, and smoke cigars, and talk loud or big, and commence most of his sentences with "Aw! 'pon my soul!" was the summit of true greatness. Neither did he, flying in disgust to the opposite extreme, speak like a misanthrope, and look like a bear, or dress like a savage. He came to know the truth of the proverb, that "there is a time for all things," and following up the idea suggested by those words, he came to perceive that there is a place for all things-- that place being the human heart, when in a true and healthy condition in all its parts, out of which, in their proper time, some of those "all things" ought to be ever ready to flow. Hence Glynn could weep with the sorrowful and laugh with the gay. He could wear a red or a blue flannel shirt, and pull an oar (ay, the best oar) at a rowing match, or he could read the Bible and pray with a bedridden old woman. Had Glynn Proctor been a naval commander, he might have sunk, destroyed, or captured fleets. Had he been a soldier, he might have stormed and taken cities; being neither, he was a greater man than either, for he could "_rule his own spirit_." If you are tempted, dear reader, to think that an easy matter, just try it. Make the effort. The first time you chance to be in a towering rage (which I trust, however, may never be), try to keep your tongue silent, and, most difficult of all, try at that moment to pray, and see whether your opinion as to your power over your own spirit be not changed. Such were Glynn and Ailie. "So they married, of course," you remark. Well, reader, and why not? Nothing could be more natural. Glynn felt, and said, too, that nothing was nearer his heart. And Ailie admitted-- after being told by Glynn that she must be his wife, for he wanted to have her, and was determined to have her whether she would or not--that her heart was in similar proximity to the idea of marriage. Captain Dunning did not object--it would have been odd if he had objected to the fulfilment of his chief earthly desire. Tim Rokens did not groan when he heard of the proposal--by no means; on the contrary, he roared, and laughed, and shouted with delight, and went straight off to tell Phil Briant, who roared a duet with him, and they both agreed that it "wos the most gloriously nat'ral thing they ever did know since they wos launched upon the sea of time!" So Glynn Proctor and Ailie Dunning were married, and lived long, and happily, and usefully at Whale Brae. Captain Dunning lived with them until he was so old that Ailie's eldest daughter (also named Ailie) had to lead him from his bedroom each morning to breakfast, and light his pipe for him when he had finished. And Ailie the second performed her duties well, and made the old man happy--happier than he could find words to express--for Ailie the second was like her mother in all things, and greater praise than that could not possibly be awarded to her. The affairs of the cottage with the yellow face and the green door were kept in good order for many years by one of Ailie the second's little sisters--Martha by name; and there was much traffic and intercourse between that ancient building and the Red Eric, as long as the two aunts lived, which was a very long time indeed. Its green door was, during that time, almost battered off its hinges by successive juvenile members of the Proctor family. And truly deep and heartfelt was the mourning at Whale Brae when the amiable sisters were taken away at last. As for Tim Rokens, that ancient mariner became the idol of the young Proctors, as they successively came to be old enough to know his worth. The number of ships and boats he made for the boys among them was absolutely fabulous. Equal, perhaps, to about a twentieth part of the number of pipes of tobacco he smoked during his residence there, and about double the number of stories told them by Phil Briant during the same period. King Bumble lived with the family until his woolly head became as white as his face was black; and Jacko--poor little Jacko--lived so long, that he became big, but he did not become less amiable, or less addicted to thieving. He turned grey at last and became as blind as a bat, and finally crawled about the house, enfeebled by old age, and wrapped in a flannel dressing-gown. Sorrows and joys are the lot of all; they chase each other across the sky of human life like cloud and sunshine on an April day. Captain Dunning and his descendants were not exempt from the pains, and toils, and griefs of life, but they met them in the right spirit, and diffused so sweet an influence around their dwelling that the neighbours used to say--and say truly--of the family at the Red Eric, that they were always good-humoured and happy--as happy as the day was long. THE END. 
61977	----	THE DOMESTIC SLAVE TRADE OF THE SOUTHERN STATES BY WINFIELD H. COLLINS, M.A. _Professor of History and English in Claremont College._ [Illustration] BROADWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY :: AT 835 BROADWAY NEW YORK Copyrighted, in 1904, BY WINFIELD H. COLLINS, M.A. _All Rights Reserved._ TO EDWARD G. BOURNE, PH.D., _Professor of American History, Yale University_, AND TO THOMAS H. LEWIS, D.D., _President of Western Maryland College_, THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR. PREFACE. When I began the study of the Domestic Slave Trade of the Southern States I had no idea of the conclusions as herein found. Especially is this true of Chapters III. and IV. I have spared no pains to be accurate in all statements of fact. The material for this work was collected in the Yale University Library in New Haven, Connecticut, and in the Congressional Library at Washington. The sources used are to be found in the appended bibliography. The most helpful were books of travel, newspapers and periodicals, Statistics of Southern States and the United States Census Reports. W.H. Collins. Claremont College, Hickory, N.C. February 22, 1904. CONTENTS PAGE CHAPTER I. A Sketch of the Rise of the Trade in African Slaves and of the Foreign Slave Trade of the Southern States 1 CHAPTER II. The Causes of the Rise and Development of the Domestic Slave Trade 21 CHAPTER III. The Amount and Extent of the Trade 36 CHAPTER IV. Were Some States Engaged in Breeding and Raising Negroes for Sale? 68 CHAPTER V. The Kidnapping and Selling of Free Negroes into Slavery 84 CHAPTER VI. Slave "Prisons," Markets, Character of Traders, etc. 96 CHAPTER VII. Laws of the Southern States with Reference to Importation and Exportation of Slaves 109 Bibliography 140 THE DOMESTIC SLAVE TRADE OF THE SOUTHERN STATES. CHAPTER I. A SKETCH OF THE RISE OF THE SLAVE TRADE IN AFRICAN STATES AND OF THE FOREIGN SLAVE TRADE OF THE SOUTHERN STATES. It is not our intention nor is it within our province to enter into details concerning the foreign slave trade. It seems, however, that a brief account is necessary as introductory to the subject of the Domestic Slave Trade. The rise in Europe of the traffic in slaves from Africa was an incident in the commercial expansion of Portugal. It was coeval and almost coextensive with the development of commerce, and followed in the wake of discovery and colonization. The first name connected with it is that of Antonio Gonçalvez, who was a marine under Prince Henry the Navigator. In 1441 he was sent to Cape Bojador to get a vessel load of "sea-wolves" skins. He signalized his voyage by the capture of some Moors whom he carried to Portugal. In 1442 these Moors promised black slaves as a ransom for themselves. Prince Henry approved of this exchange and Gonçalvez took the captives home and received, among other things, ten black slaves in exchange for two of them. The king justified his act on the ground that the negroes might be converted to the Christian religion, but the Moors could not.[1] Two years later the Company of Lagos chartered by the king, and engaged in exploration on the coast of Africa, imported about two hundred slaves from the islands of Nar and Tidar.[2] "This year (1444) Europe may be said to have made a distinct beginning in the slave trade, henceforth to spread on all sides like the waves [in] stirred up water, and not like them to become fainter and fainter as the circles widen."[3] After the discovery of America, the islands which became known as the Spanish West Indies were speedily colonized, and the inefficiency of the Indian as a laborer in the mines there soon led to the substitution of the negro. As early as 1502 a few were employed, and in 1517 Charles V. granted a patent to certain traders for the exclusive supply of 4,000 negroes annually to the islands of Hispaniola, Cuba, Jamaica and Porto Rico.[4] So far as known John Hawkins was the first Englishman to engage in the slave traffic. He left England for Sierra Leone with three ships and a hundred men in 1562, and having secured three hundred negroes he proceeded to Hispaniola where he disposed of them, and having had a very profitable voyage, he returned to England in 1563. This appears to have excited the avarice of the British Government. The next year Hawkins was appointed to the command of one of the Queen's ships and proceeded to Africa where in company with several others, it appears, he engaged in the slave traffic.[5] In 1624 France began the slave trade and later Holland, Denmark, New England and other English colonies, though the leader in the trade and the last to abandon it was Great Britain.[6] The first slaves introduced into any of the English continental colonies was in 1619 about the last of August when a piratical Dutch frigate, manned chiefly by English, stopped at Jamestown, Virginia, and sold the colonists twenty negroes.[7] Even for a long while after this, it seems, importation of negroes was merely of an occasional or incidental nature. Indeed, in 1648 only three hundred negroes were to be found in Virginia.[8] However, several shiploads were brought in between 1664 and 1671, and at the latter date Virginia had two thousand slaves.[9] During the latter part of the seventeenth and the early part of the eighteenth century the importation of negroes gradually increased. In 1705, eighteen hundred negroes were brought in and in 1715 Virginia had twenty-three thousand. By 1723 they were being imported into this colony at the rate of fifteen hundred or sixteen hundred a year.[10] In the eighteenth century Virginia sought from time to time to hinder the introduction of slaves by placing heavy duties on them. Indeed, from 1732 until the Revolution there were only about six months in which slaves could be brought into Virginia free of duty.[11] Nevertheless, in 1776 Virginia had 165,000 slaves.[12] Though all the other colonies imported slaves more or less during the same period, yet with the possible exception of South Carolina they fell far short of the number imported by Virginia. In November 1708, Governor Seymour of Maryland, writing to the English Board of Trade, stated that 2,290 negroes were imported into that colony from midsummer 1698 to Christmas 1707. He reported the trade to be running very high, six or seven hundred having been imported during the year. In 1712 there were 8,330 negroes in Maryland.[13] During about the same time (midsummer 1699 to October 1708) Virginia imported 6,607[14] while a northern colony, New Jersey, imported only one hundred and fifteen from 1698 to 1726.[15] Du Bois says that South Carolina received about three thousand slaves a year from 1733 to 1766.[16] She had forty thousand in 1740.[17] In 1700 North Carolina had eleven hundred, 1732 six thousand,[18] and in 1764 about thirty thousand.[19] Until near the beginning of the eighteenth century it was rare that the English continental colonies received a shipload of slaves direct from Africa, and even these were usually brought in by some unlicensed "interloper." It is very probable that most of the negroes imported before this time were from Barbados, Jamaica and other West India Islands.[20] But by the beginning of the eighteenth century it appears that slaves were being imported more rapidly. After the Assiento,[21] in 1713, England became a great carrier of slaves and so continued until the Revolution.[22] The effect of this was very sensibly felt by the colonies. Even in the latter part of the seventeenth century some of the colonies began to show their dislike by levying duties on further importation. In the eighteenth century the colonial opposition to the importation of slaves, arising probably from a fear of insurrection, became much more pronounced. Heavy restrictions in the form of duties were laid upon the trade. In some cases these were so heavy as would seem to amount to total prohibition.[23] But the efforts on the part of the colonies to restrict the trade were frowned upon and often disallowed by the British Government.[24] In 1754 the instructions to Governor Dobbs, of North Carolina, were: "Whereas, acts have been passed in some of our plantations in America for laying duties on the importation and exportation of negroes to the great discouragement of the Merchants trading thither from the coast of Africa, ... it is our will and pleasure that you do not give your assent to or pass any law imposing duties upon negroes imported into our Province of North Carolina."[25] The colonies considered the slave trade so important to Great Britain that at the dawn of the Revolution some of them appear to have had hopes of bringing her to terms by refusing to import any more slaves.[26] In the original draft of the Declaration of Independence as submitted by Jefferson, the king of Great Britain is arraigned "for suppressing every legislative attempt to prohibit or restrain this execrable commerce."[27] It has been estimated that in the year of the Declaration the whole number of slaves in the thirteen colonies was 502,132, apportioned as follows: Massachusetts, 3,500; Rhode Island, 4,376; Connecticut, 6,000; New Hampshire, 627; New York, 15,000; New Jersey, 7,600; Pennsylvania, 10,000; Delaware, 9,000; Maryland, 80,000; Georgia, 16,000; North Carolina, 75,000; South Carolina, 110,000; Virginia, 165,000.[28] Two years after this, in 1778, Virginia took the lead against the introduction of slaves by passing a law prohibiting importation either by land or sea. This law made an exception of travellers and immigrants.[29] Other States soon followed suit, passing laws to restrict it temporarily or at specified places.[30] By 1803 all the States and territories had laws in force prohibiting the importation of slaves from abroad.[31] It must not be supposed, however, that these were entirely effective. Indeed, the statement was made in Congress Feb. 14, 1804, that in the preceding twelve months "twenty thousand" enslaved negroes had been transported from Guinea, and by smuggling, added to the plantation stock of Georgia and South Carolina.[32] In 1798 an act of Congress establishing the territory of Mississippi provided that no slave should be brought within its limits from without the United States.[33] In 1804, when Louisiana was erected into the territories of Louisiana and Orleans the provision was made that only slaves which had been imported before May 1, 1798, might be introduced into the territories and these must be the bona fide property of actual settlers.[34] Upon the petition of the inhabitants for the removal of the restrictions, a bill was introduced in Congress, of which Du Bois says: "By dexterous wording, this bill, which became a law March 2, 1805, swept away all restrictions upon the slave trade except that relating to foreign ports, and left even this provision so ambiguous that later by judicial interpretations of the law, the foreign slave trade was allowed at least for a time."[35] South Carolina had even before this time (December 17, 1803), repealed her law against the importation of slaves from Africa.[36] The trade was thus open through this State for four years, during which time 39,075 slaves were imported through Charleston[37] alone. The action of South Carolina in opening the slave trade forced the question upon the attention of Congress. During 1805-6 it was much discussed[38] but it was not until March 2, 1807, that a bill was passed against it. This prohibited the importation of slaves after January 1, 1808, under penalty of imprisonment for not less than five nor more than ten years, and a fine of not less than $5,000 nor more than $10,000.[39] This law was not entirely effective. In 1810 the Secretary of the Navy writing to Charleston, South Carolina, says: "I hear not without great concern, that the law prohibiting the importation of slaves has been violated in frequent instances near St. Mary's."[40] Drake, a slave smuggler, says, that during the war of 1812 the business of smuggling slaves through Florida into the United States was a lively one.[41] Vincent Nolte says that in 1813 "pirates captured Spanish and other slave ships on the high seas and established their main depot and rendezvous on the island of Barataria lying near the coast adjacent to New Orleans. This place was visited by the sugar planters, chiefly of French origin, who bought up the stolen slaves at from $150 to $200 per head when they could not have procured as good stock in the city for less than $600 or $700. These were then conveyed to the different plantations, through the innumerable creeks called bayous, that communicate with each other by manifold little branches."[42] In 1817-1819 slaves were very high and in great demand in the South. As a consequence great numbers of them were smuggled in at various places. The evidence of this is quite convincing. Amelia Island and the town of St. Mary's became notorious as two of the principal rendezvous of smugglers. A writer in "Niles' Register" in 1818 says that a regular chain of posts was established from the head of St. Mary's river to the upper country, and through the Indian nation by means of which slaves are hurried to every part of the country. The woodmen along the river side rode like so many Arabs loaded with slaves ready for market. When ready to form a caravan, an Indian alarm was created that the woods might be less frequented, and if pursued in Georgia they escaped to Florida.[43] Mr. M'Intosh, Collector of the Port of Darien, in a letter in 1818, says: "I am in possession of undoubted information that African and West Indian negroes are almost daily illicitly introduced into Georgia, for sale or settlement, or passing through it to the territories of the United States."[44] In 1817 it was reported to the Secretary of the Navy that "most of the goods carried to Galveston are introduced into the United States, the most bulky and least valuable regularly through the custom house; the most valuable and the slaves are smuggled in through the numerous inlets to the westward where the people are but too much disposed to render them every possible assistance. Several hundred slaves are now at Galveston."[45] "Niles' Register," in 1818, quoting from the "Democrat Press," has a very interesting account of how the law against the importation of slaves was evaded at New Orleans: An agent would be sent to the West Indies and even to Africa to purchase a cargo of slaves. On the return when the slave ship got near Balize the agent would leave her, go in haste to New Orleans and inform the proper authorities that a certain vessel had come into the Mississippi, said to be bound for New Orleans and having on board a certain number of negroes contrary to the law of the United States. The vessel and cargo would be libelled and the slaves sold at public auction. One half of the purchase money would go to the informer and the other to the United States.[46] The informer and agent was the same man and a partner in the transaction. This was a profitable business and about ten thousand slaves a year are said to have been thus introduced.[47] It is quite evident that the illicit slave trade at this time was very great. In 1819 Mr. Middleton, of South Carolina, said in Congress that in his opinion thirteen thousand Africans were annually smuggled into the United States, and Mr. Wright, of Virginia, estimated the number at fifteen thousand.[48] In 1818, 1819 and 1820 Congress passed acts to supplement and render more effective the act of 1807.[49] Du Bois says that for a decade after 1825 there appears little positive evidence of a large illicit importation, but thinks notwithstanding that slaves were largely imported.[50] Captain J.E. Alexander in a book published in 1833 says that he was assured by a planter of forty years' standing that persons in New Orleans were connected with slave traders in Cuba, and that at certain seasons of the year they would go up the Mississippi River and meet slave ships off the coast. They would relieve these of their cargoes, return to the main stream of the river, drop down in flat boats and dispose of the negroes to those who wished them.[51] Thomas Powell Buxton makes the statement, upon what he claims to be high authority, that fifteen thousand negroes were imported into Texas from Africa in one year, about 1838.[52] The "Liberator" quoting the "Maryland Colonization Herald," says a writer in that paper was assured, in 1838, by Pedro Blanco, one of the largest slave traders on the coast of Africa, that for the preceding forty years the United States had been his best market through the west end of Cuba and Texas.[53] "Between 1847 and 1853," says Du Bois, "the slave smuggler Drake had a slave depot in the Gulf, where sometimes as many as sixteen hundred negroes were on hand, and the owners were continually importing and shipping." Drake himself says: "Our island was visited almost weekly by agents from Cuba, New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Boston and New Orleans, ... the seasoned and instructed slaves were taken to Texas or Florida, overland, and to Cuba, in sailing boats. As no squad contained more than half a dozen, no difficulty was found in posting them to the United States, without discovery, and generally without suspicion.... The Bay Island plantation sent ventures weekly to the Florida Keys. Slaves were taken into the great American swamps, and there kept till wanted for market. Hundreds were sold as runaways from the Florida wilderness. We had agents in every slave State, and our coasters were built in Maine and came out with lumber. I could tell curious stories ... of this business of smuggling Bozal negroes into the United States. It is growing more profitable every year, and if you should hang all the Yankee merchants engaged in it, hundreds would fill their places."[54] Owing to the increasing demand, and to the high price of slaves from 1845 to 1860, and to the fact that the Southern people were becoming more and more favorable to the reopening of the African slave trade, thus making it easier to practice smuggling successfully, we have no reason to doubt the truth of these accounts of this illicit traffic. Stephen A. Douglas said in 1859 it was his confident opinion that more than fifteen thousand slaves had been imported in the preceding year, and that the trade had been carried on extensively for a long while.[55] About 1860 it was stated that twenty large cities and towns in the South were depots for African slaves and sixty or seventy cargoes of slaves had been introduced in the preceding eighteen months.[56] It was estimated in 1860 that eighty-five vessels which had been fitted out from New York City during eighteen months of 1859 and 1860, would introduce from thirty thousand to sixty thousand annually.[57] From what has been said it seems to us certain that at least 270,000 slaves were introduced into the United States from 1808 to 1860 inclusive.[58] These we would distribute as follows: Between 1808 and 1820, sixty thousand; 1820 to 1830, fifty thousand; 1830 to 1840, forty thousand; 1840 to 1850, fifty thousand and from 1850 to 1860 seventy thousand. We consider these very moderate and even low estimates. It will be seen later that these figures are of prime importance in accounting for the presence of certain slaves in the States of the extreme South. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: A. Helps: The Spanish Conquest of America, Vol. I., 30-32.] [Footnote 2: Ibid., 35-36.] [Footnote 3: Helps: Sp. Con. of Am., Vol. I., 40.] [Footnote 4: Edwards: British West Indies, Vol. II., 44. Brock: Va. Hist. So. Collection, Vol. VI., 2.] [Footnote 5: Edwards: British West Indies, Vol. II., 47-8.] [Footnote 6: Ballaugh: Hist. of Slavery in Va., p. 4.] [Footnote 7: John Smith: Hist. of Va., Vol. II., 39. Ballaugh: Hist. of Slavery in Va., pp. 8-9. There has been some misunderstanding as to the date, but Ballaugh makes it clear that 1619 is correct.] [Footnote 8: Brock: Va. Hist. So. Coll., VI., 9. Ballaugh: Hist. Sl. in Va., p. 9.] [Footnote 9: Hening: States at Large, Vol. II., 515.] [Footnote 10: Ballaugh: Hist. Sl. in Va., pp. 10-14.] [Footnote 11: Ibid., p. 19.] [Footnote 12: De Bow: Industrial Resources of the South, Vol. III., 130.] [Footnote 13: Scharf: Hist. of Md., Vol. I., 376-7.] [Footnote 14: N.C. Colonial Records, Vol. I., 693.] [Footnote 15: N.J. Archives, Vol. V., 152.] [Footnote 16: Du Bois: Suppression of Slave Trade, p. 5.] [Footnote 17: M'Call: Hist. of Ga., II., 125.] [Footnote 18: N.C. Colonial Records, Vol. II., p. 17.] [Footnote 19: Bassett: Slavery and Servitude in N.C., pages 20-22. In J.H.U. Studies, Vol. XIV.] [Footnote 20: Scharf: Hist. of Md., Vol. I., 376-7. N.C. Colonial Records, Vol. I., 693.] [Footnote 21: The Assiento was a treaty between England and Spain, by which Spain granted England a monopoly of the Spanish colonial slave trade for thirty years. Du Bois: Suppression of Slave Trade, p. 3.] [Footnote 22: Du Bois: Suppression of Slave Trade, p. 4-6.] [Footnote 23: Du Bois: Suppression of Slave Trade, Appendix A.] [Footnote 24: Ibid., pp. 4-5.] [Footnote 25: N.C. Col. Rec., Vol. V., 1118.] [Footnote 26: Du Bois: Suppression of Slave Trade, pp. 42-8.] [Footnote 27: Ford: Jefferson's Works, Vol. II., 23.] [Footnote 28: De Bow's: Industrial Resources, Vol. III., 130. Liberator: Feb. 23, 1849.] [Footnote 29: Hening; Statutes at Large, Vol. IX., p. 471.] [Footnote 30: Chap. on Laws, C. VII., this book. Du Bois: Suppres. Sl. Trade, Appendices A. and B.] [Footnote 31: Ibid. Schouler: Hist. U.S., Vol. II., p. 56. Chap. VII. on Laws, this volume.] [Footnote 32: Annals of Congress, 8th Cong., 1st Sess., 1000.] [Footnote 33: Poore: Fed. and State Constitutions, Part 2, 1050.] [Footnote 34: Ibid.] [Footnote 35: Du Bois: Suppression of Slave Trade, pp. 89-90.] [Footnote 36: McCord: S.C. Statutes at Large, Vol. VII., p. 449. Du Bois: p. 240.] [Footnote 37: Annals of Congress, 16 Con., 2nd Sess., p. 77.] [Footnote 38: Du Bois: pp. 91-3.] [Footnote 39: Annals of Cong., 9 Cong., 2 Sess., Appendix 1266-72.] [Footnote 40: House Doc., 15 Cong., 2 Sess., IV., No. 84, p. 5.] [Footnote 41: Drake: Revelations of a Slave Smuggler, 51, quoted by Du Bois, p. 11.] [Footnote 42: Vincent Nolte: Fifty Years in Both Hemispheres, p. 189.] [Footnote 43: Niles' Reg., May 2, 1818.] [Footnote 44: State Papers, 1st Sess., 16th Cong., Vol. 3, H. Doc. 42.] [Footnote 45: Niles' Reg., Jan. 22, 1820.] [Footnote 46: Ibid., Dec. 12, 1818, Louisiana had a law which provided that slaves imported contrary to Act of Congress, March 2, 1807, should be seized and sold for benefit of the State. (Hurd, Vol. II., p. 159.) But the whole story is denied by another writer. (Niles' Reg., Dec. 12, 1818.)] [Footnote 47: Niles' Reg., Dec. 12, 1818.] [Footnote 48: Wm. Jay: Miscell. Writings on Slavery, p. 277.] [Footnote 49: Du Bois: Pp. 118-122.] [Footnote 50: Ibid., p. 128.] [Footnote 51: Alexander: Transatlantic Sketches, p. 230.] [Footnote 52: Buxton: The African Slave Trade, p. 44.] [Footnote 53: Liberator: Aug. 18, 1854.] [Footnote 54: Revelations of a Slave Smuggler, p. 98. Quoted by Du Bois, p. 166.] [Footnote 55: 27 Report Am. Anti-Slavery So., p. 20. Du Bois: P. 181.] [Footnote 56: 27 Report Am. Anti-Sl. So., p. 21. Du Bois, p. 182.] [Footnote 57: J.J. Lalor: Cyclopedia, Vol. III., p. 733.] [Footnote 58: This is little more than the estimate which Du Bois made before he wrote his book, "Suppression of the Slave Trade." "From 1807 to 1862 there were annually introduced into the United States from 1,000 to 15,000 Africans, and that the total number thus brought in in contravention alike of humanity and law was not less than 250,000." "Enforcement of Slave Trade Laws," in the Annual Report of the Am. Hist. Assoc. for the year 1891, p. 173. The estimate of 270,000 in the text was made after careful study, and before the writer knew of Du Bois' estimate.] CHAPTER II. THE CAUSES OF THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE DOMESTIC SLAVE TRADE. The prohibition of the foreign slave trade by the States and the Federal Government is the first thing to be considered in connection with the development of the internal slave trade. Although before 1808 all the States had passed laws to prohibit the introduction of slaves from without the United States, yet each State had the power to reopen the trade at will. South Carolina, perhaps, thinking it might be for the interest of the State, opened the foreign trade in 1803.[59] During the four years following so many slaves were imported that the market in the United States became overstocked and many of the negroes were sent to the West Indies for sale.[60] Had the States retained the power to import, it is not probable that the domestic trade would ever have assumed any great importance. It is not likely that the people of the South and West would have paid high prices for the negroes from the border States when they could have been had from abroad for so much less. The great profits, too, which induced men to carry on the domestic trade would have been wanting. Assuming this, then, the consequent low price of slaves in the border slave States, added to the disinclination of many in these States to make merchandise of the negro, might have led, as the negroes increased and became a burden upon their masters, to gradual emancipation. In 1807, however, when Congress exercised its constitutional right and prohibited the importation of slaves from without the United States after January 1, 1808, the right of the individual States to import slaves from foreign countries was lost. It is interesting to note that only a few years before the passage of the Federal non-importation-slave act the vast territory of Louisiana had been purchased from France. The acquisition of this territory had a wonderful influence upon the development and continuance of the internal slave trade. Of much less influence, and we might even say, of comparative insignificance, was the Florida cession of 1819. In a very short time this fertile region of the Louisiana purchase began to attract great numbers of immigrants who, it seems, often brought their slaves with them. But there were many who still had to be supplied.[61] To meet this demand' recourse was had, principally, to the exhausted plantations of Virginia and Maryland.[62] Tobacco, which had been a great agricultural staple in these States, had worn out the land. The price of tobacco, too, from about 1818 was very low and continued so until about 1840.[63] At the same time new States such as Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, the Carolinas and Georgia, had become great tobacco States. Such quantities came to be raised as to make the culture very unprofitable in Virginia and Maryland.[64] The condition with respect to this section could be no better illustrated than by a quotation from a speech of Thomas Marshall in the Virginia House of Delegates, January 20, 1832: "Mr. Taylor, of Carolina," he says, "had understood that 60,000 hogsheads of tobacco were exported from Virginia, when the whole population did not exceed 150,000. Had the fertility of the country by possibility remained undiminished, Virginia ought in 1810 to have exported 240,000 hogsheads, or their equivalent in other produce, and at present nearly double that. Thus the agricultural exports of Virginia in 1810 would, at the estimated prices of the Custom House at that time, have been seventeen millions of dollars and now at least thirty-four, while it is known that they are not of late years greater than from three to five millions.... "The fact that the whole agricultural products of the State at present, do not exceed in value the exports eighty or ninety years ago, when it contained not a sixth of the population, and when not a third of the surface of that State (at present Virginia) was at all occupied, is, however, a striking proof of the decline of its agriculture. What is now the productive value of an estate of land and negroes in Virginia? We state as the result of extensive inquiry, embracing the last fifteen, years, that a very great proportion of the larger plantations, with from fifty to one hundred slaves, actually bring their proprietors in debt at the end of a short term of years, notwithstanding what would once in Virginia have been deemed very sheer economy, that much the larger part of the considerable landholders are content, if they barely meet their plantation expenses without a loss of capital; and that of those who make any profit, it will be none but rare instances, average more than one and a half per cent. on the capital invested. The case is not materially varied with the smaller proprietors. Mr. Randolph, of Roanoke, whose sayings have so generally the raciness and the truth of proverbs, has repeatedly said in Congress, that the time was coming when the masters would run away from the slaves and be advertised by them in the public papers."[65] It seems that agriculture had taken a new start about 1816, probably owing to the fact that tobacco was very high, being from 8 to 15 cents per pound,[66] for Colonel Mercer in the Virginia Constitutional Convention of 1829 said that in 1817 the lands of Virginia were valued at $206,000,000 and that negroes averaged $300 each, while by 1829 lands had decreased in value to $80,000,000 or $90,000,000 and negroes to $150 each.[67] But while agriculture was in such a discouraging condition in the worn out States, Louisiana and other States of the Southwest were being opened up and were looked on as the land of promise. Immigrants to that favored section wrote glowing accounts of the fertility of the country and of the delightful climate. An emigrant from Maryland writes from Louisiana in 1817: "Do not the climate, the soil and productions of this country furnish allurements to the application of your negroes on our lands? In your States a planter, with ten negroes, with difficulty supports a family genteelly; here well managed, they would be a fortune to him. With you the seasons are so irregular your crops often fail; here the crops are certain, and want of the necessaries of life, never for a moment causes the heart to ache--abundance spreads the table of the poor man and contentment smiles on every countenance."[68] In marked contrast to the unprofitableness of slave labor in the older slave States was their immense profit when employed on the fresh lands of the Southwest. Some planters in this section had plantations thousands of acres in extent.[69] To cultivate them great numbers of slaves were required. If the crop were cotton one negro was needed for every three acres and these would yield cotton to the value of $240 to $260. The master realized upon each negro employed at least $200 annually.[70] The income of some of these plantations was immense. It was not uncommon for a planter in Mississippi and Louisiana to have an income of $30,000, and some of them even $80,000 to $120,000 (1820).[71] The enormous profits caused slaves to be very high in this section and in great demand. There were only two possible sources of supply:--first, the illicit traffic already spoken of; second, the domestic slave trade. A good negro from twenty to thirty years of age would command from $800 to $1,200.[72] Indeed, it is stated that at one time during this early period they sold for as much as $2,000.[73] This fact in connection with the fact that in 1817 the average price of a negro in Virginia was only $300, and the depreciation by 1829 to $150, gives us the reason for the rise of the domestic slave trade. It was over and again stated in the Virginia Legislature of 1832 that the value of negroes in Virginia was regulated not by their profitableness at home but by the Southwestern demand.[74] The great difference in the price of slaves in the buying States and the selling States was an inducement to a certain class of men to engage in the business of buying them up and carrying them South. The profits were from one-third to one-half on an average after expenses were paid.[75] Slave traders soon got rich. Williams, a Washington dealer, boasted in 1850 that he made $30,000 in a few months.[76] It is said the firm of Franklin & Armfield, of Alexandria, made $33,000 in 1829.[77] In 1834 Armfield, of this same firm, was reputed to be worth nearly $500,000 which he had accumulated in the business.[78] Ingraham tells of a man who had amassed more than a million dollars in this traffic.[79] More instances might be given but this is enough to show that the traffic was profitable. The cultivation of rice[80] and sugar, especially sugar, used up slaves rapidly. As a consequence slaves were in demand in the rice and sugar sections, not only because of the expansion of these industries, but to take the place of those that died. In 1829 the statement was made in a report of the Agricultural Society of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, that the annual loss of life on well conducted sugar plantations was two and one-half per cent. more than the annual increase. In 1830, the Hon. J.L. Johnson in a letter to the Secretary of the Treasury gave evidence of a thorough study of the subject and arrived at the same conclusion.[81] We come now to consider the one thing, the prime factor, which brought about the wonderful agricultural prosperity of the Southwest--_cotton_. Sugar and rice could only be grown in certain limited sections. Rice principally in South Carolina and sugar in Louisiana; but the cotton field came to cover the larger part of nine great States. Until toward the end of the eighteenth century the production of cotton in this country was very small. In 1793, however, Eli Whitney invented his machine for separating the seed from the cotton. This soon revolutionized the industry. While the cotton crop of the United States in 1793 was only 5,000,000 pounds, by 1808 it had increased to 80,000,000, and remained about the same or rather declined during the war of 1812, but the very year peace was established its production went up to 100,000,000 pounds, and the year following (1816) to 125,000,000. By 1834 it had grown to 460,000,000.[82] During the whole of this period, with slight fluctuations, cotton continued high, but after 1835 it began to decline and reached low-water mark at the average price of 5-3/4 cents per pound in 1845, which was scarcely the cost of production.[83] However, the crop of 1839 according to the census reports was 790,479,275 pounds, nearly double the crop of the five years previous. During the next decade though the price went up after 1845[84] the crop increased less than 200,000,000 pounds being only 987,637,200 in 1849, but during the following ten years it more than doubled, being 2,397,238,140 pounds in 1859.[85] Of this enormous crop the four States of Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana and Georgia produced more than two-thirds, while Virginia contributed about 1,400.[86] But Virginia and North Carolina in 1801 had produced more than two-fifths of the cotton raised in the country. In 1826 when, according to the official reports they reached their greatest production, Virginia grew 25,000,000 pounds and North Carolina 18,000,000, or nearly five times as much as in 1801, yet this proportion had fallen to about one-seventh. Eight years afterward Virginia's crop had fallen to 10,000,000 pounds and North Carolina's to 9,500,000,[87] and their production continued to decline.[88] Hammond says that "the higher cost of raising cotton in the more northern latitudes, and the uncertainty of the plant reaching maturity before the arrival of the frosts, prevented the rapid growth of cotton culture in these States after 1830 which took place elsewhere, especially as the continual decline in the price of the staple only emphasized the disadvantages under which the planters of these States labored."[89] But while decline was noticeable in the Northern States, the States at the Southwest were going ahead by leaps and bounds. The same year (1843) Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, from which no cotton had been reported in 1801, produced together 232,000,000 pounds, while South Carolina increased its crops from 2,000,000 to 65,500,000 and Georgia from 10,000,000 to 75,000,000 pounds during the same time.[90] As the cotton field extended of course the demand for labor increased and that labor was necessarily negro slave labor, for it was thought that the white man could not endure work under a tropical sun, while the organism of the negro was especially adapted to it.[91] As a consequence negroes were secured from every possible source. In short, negroes and cotton soon came to be inseparably associated. The amount of cotton that could be raised depended upon the number of negroes to be secured to work it. The value of a negro was measured by his usefulness in the cotton field.[92] De Bow estimated that in 1850 out of the 2,500,000 slaves in the Southern States about 1,800,000[93] of them, or nearly three-fourths were engaged in the cotton industry, leaving for all other purposes only about 700,000, or about the same number as there was in the whole United States in 1790, at which time the production of cotton was only 1,500,000 pounds.[94] Thus it is seen that while cotton demanded all the increase of slaves from whatever source from that time forward all other things merely held their own. However, if we subtract the number engaged in the sugar industry, which was 150,000[95] in 1850 for the reason that it was a new crop developed during the early part of the century,[96] it is noticed that other things lost. From this we conclude it was only natural that the surplus slave population of the older slave States where it was useless was to be drained off to the cotton States. Some of the Southern papers, notably the "Richmond Enquirer," over and again called attention to the relation of cotton and negroes. In 1859 it says: "The price of cotton it is well known pretty much regulates the price of slaves in the South, and a bale of cotton and a 'likely nigger' are about well balanced in the scale of pecuniary appreciation."[97] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 59: McCord: S.C. Statutes at Large, Vol. VII., p. 449.] [Footnote 60: Annals of Congress, 16 Cong., 2 Sess., p. 77.] [Footnote 61: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 223.] [Footnote 62: Alexander: Transatlantic Sketches, p. 250. Basil Hall: Travels in N. Am., Vol. II., p. 217.] [Footnote 63: Hunt's: Merchants' Magazine, Vol. VI., p. 473.] [Footnote 64: Speech of Thomas Marshall in Va., H. Del., 1832. Richmond Enquirer, Feb. 2, 1832.] [Footnote 65: Richmond Enquirer, Feb. 2, 1832.] [Footnote 66: Hunt's: Merchants' Magazine, VI., p. 473.] [Footnote 67: Proceedings and Debate of the Va. St. Con. Con., 1829-30, p. 178.] [Footnote 68: Niles' Reg., Sept. 13, 1817; for another such letter see Ibid., October 18, 1817.] [Footnote 69: Smedes: Memorials of a Southern Planter, p. 47.] [Footnote 70: Christian Scutz: Travels on an Inland Voyage, Vol. II., p. 186. David Blowe: Geographical, Commercial and Agricultural View of U.S., p. 618.] [Footnote 71: David Blowe: Geographical, Commercial and Agricultural View of U.S. of Am., p. 643. (1820?)] [Footnote 72: Ibid., p. 618.] [Footnote 73: Claiborne: Miss. as a Province, Territory and State, Vol. I., p. 144.] [Footnote 74: Mr. Gholson in Va. Leg. Richmond Enquirer, Jan. 24, 1832. Mr. Goode, ibid., Jan. 19, 1832.] [Footnote 75: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. 4, p. 234. Vigne: Six Months in Am., p. 117. Alexander: Transatlantic Sketches, p. 230.] [Footnote 76: Liberator, Sept. 6, 1850.] [Footnote 77: Mary Tremain: Slavery in D.C., p. 50.] [Footnote 78: Abdy: Journal of a Residence and Tour in the U.S., Vol. II., p. 180.] [Footnote 79: (Ingraham): The Southwest. Vol. II., p. 245.] [Footnote 80: Basil Hall: Travels in North America, 218-223.] [Footnote 81: Stearns: Notes on Uncle Tom's Cabin, 174-5.] [Footnote 82: Woodbury's Report: 24th Cong., 1st Sess. Ex. Doc. 146, p. 7.] [Footnote 83: De Bow's Review: Vol. XXIII., p. 475.] [Footnote 84: Hammond: Cotton Ind., Ap. 1.] [Footnote 85: Census of 1890. Statistics of Agri., p. 42.] [Footnote 86: Ibid.] [Footnote 87: Woodbury's Report, p. 13.] [Footnote 88: Census, 1890. Statistics of Agri., p. 42.] [Footnote 89: Hammond: The Cotton Industry, p. 49.] [Footnote 90: Woodbury's Report, p. 13.] [Footnote 91: Van Enrie: Negroes and Negro Slavery, p. 171. Parkinson: Tour in America, Vol. II., p. 421.] [Footnote 92: Olmsted: Cotton Kingdom. Vol. I., 15-16. Ibid.: Seaboard Slave States, p. 278.] [Footnote 93: De Bow: Compendium, 7th Census, p. 94.] [Footnote 94: Woodbury's Report, p. 7.] [Footnote 95: De Bow: Compendium, 7th Census, p. 94.] [Footnote 96: Ibid.: Industrial Resources, Vol. III., p. 275.] [Footnote 97: Richmond Enquirer, July 29, 1859.] CHAPTER III. THE AMOUNT AND EXTENT OF THE TRADE. We have already discussed the causes of the domestic slave trade. In this chapter it is our purpose, chiefly, to consider its amount and extent. In this connection our first object will be to determine whether it was carried on as a business before 1808. It appears that there were exchanges of slaves going on among the States and territories before this time, but whether this was anything more than of an occasional or incidental nature is a question. The statutes of some of the States give some light along this line. South Carolina in 1792 prohibited the introduction of slaves either by land or sea.[98] Delaware, however, as early as 1787, passed a law which recites that: "Sundry negroes and mulattoes, as well freeman as slaves, have been exported and sold into other States, contrary to the principles of humanity and justice, and derogatory to the honor of this State." This law prohibited their exportation without a permit.[99] It seems to have been something more than merely incidental for it was amended in 1793, as follows: "That from and after the first Tuesday of October next, the justice of the Court of General Quarter Sessions and Jail Delivery, or any two of them, shall have the like power to grant a licence or permit to export, sell or carry out for sale, any negro or mulatto slave from this State that five justices of the peace in open Sessions now have."[100] We have evidence to show that, by 1802, Alexandria, in the District of Columbia, had become a sort of depot for the sale of slaves, and that men visited it from distant parts of the United States in order to purchase them.[101] About this time slaves were in great demand and very high in Mississippi,[102] and probably, also, in the new States of Kentucky and Tennessee.[103] However, it is not to be supposed that the great increase of the slave population in these sections before 1815 was due, to any great extent, to the domestic slave trade. There were five causes which may be assigned for this increase, of which the domestic trade was, probably, among the least, if not the least. No doubt, the most important was the immigration of slave holders with their slaves.[104] This immigration was considerable: the white population of Tennessee and Kentucky nearly trebled between 1790 and 1800, and between 1800 and 1810 it about doubled, and the population of Mississippi more than quadrupled between 1800 and 1810. Slaves, also, increased in as great a ratio.[105] Second, we consider the South Carolina slave trade from 1804 to 1807 inclusive. From a speech of Mr. Smith of South were sold in the Carolinas, but that the most of Carolina in the United States Senate, December 8, 1820, we learn that only a small part of the negroes introduced in consequence of this trade them were bought by the people of the Western and Southwestern States and territories.[106] Third, was the natural increase. Fourth would be the illegal foreign slave trade,[107] and fifth is the domestic trade. It is impossible to more than approximate the relative importance of these factors. However, it seems very unlikely that the domestic trade was of much consequence before 1815. Whatever impetus it may have received on account of the demand for slaves just prior to the South Carolina trade, must have been checked by the consequent heavy importation from abroad. For, on account of this, slaves fell in price, as it is said adults, at this time, generally sold in the Southwest at one hundred dollars each.[108] If the domestic slave trade had assumed any importance, or even if it had been going on at all before 1815, it seems more than likely that it would have been remarked by travellers, many of whom, both English and American, visited the Southwest and other sections of the country during the period in question. But so far as we can find, none of them make any mention of it whatever.[109] The newspapers of the time, also, are silent in regard to the matter. Doubtless the rise and development of the trade was hindered or delayed by the War of 1812,[110] but almost immediately after the close of the war, it comes into notice and even prominence. In 1816 Paulding in his "Letters from the South" writes of it from personal observation, and also tells of a man who had even thus early made money in the business.[111] At this time, indeed, conditions were very favorable to a growth of the domestic trade. The general prosperity and the high price of agricultural products, especially cotton and sugar,[112] caused a great demand for slave labor for the new and fertile lands of the South and Southwest. In 1817 and 1818 the buying up of negroes for these markets was fast becoming a regular business, and it was a very common thing to see gangs of them chained and marching toward the South.[113] They were collected from various places by dealers and shipped down the Mississippi River in flat-boats. Fourteen of these loaded with slaves for sale were seen at Natchez at once about this time.[114] The statement was made that 8,000 slaves were carried into Georgia in 1817 from the Northern slave holding States.[115] It would seem probable that the greater part of these may have been introduced by immigrants. However, the slave trade must have been great, for on December 20, 1817, the Georgia legislature passed a law to prohibit at once the importation of slaves for sale.[116] Between 1810 and 1820 slaves in the four States of Georgia, Mississippi, Tennessee and Louisiana in round numbers increased from 202,000 to 332,000,[117] and in some of the other States the increase was about as great. During the same time the white population in the States named increased from 419,000 to 645,000.[118] By far the greater part of this increase took place after 1815. To prove this we will take Louisiana as an example. In 1810 she had a population of 76,500,[119] and in 1815 near the close of the year her population, according to Monette, did not exceed 90,000,[120] an increase of only 12,000; but in 1820 it amounted to 154,000, of which more than 73,000 were negro slaves.[121] It appears that the slaves in Louisiana increased only about 2,000 or 2,500 from 1810 to 1815, but between 1815 and 1820 there was an increase of about 37,000.[122] This wonderful increase in population in the West and Southwest is to be accounted for by the fact that after the close of the War of 1812 immigration again set in these directions, and, as most of the immigrants without doubt were from the older Southern States, they carried with them the slaves which they had in their native States.[123] Another source from which this region received slaves at this time was through the operation of the illicit foreign trade. It is probable that 10,000 or 15,000 a year were thus introduced.[124] It therefore seems that up to this time to the domestic trade is due probably only a minor part of the increase of the slave population of this section. During the twenties, however, if we are to give credit to the statements of travellers, the trade reached very great proportions. Baltimore, Norfolk, Richmond, Washington and other places had already become centres. Agents were placed in these cities to attend to purchase and shipment. "And thousands and tens of thousands," such is the language of an English tourist, were purchased in Virginia and Maryland for sale in Georgia, Louisiana and other States.[125] Blane, another Englishman, who visited the United States about the same time, is more to the point. "It is computed," he says, "that every year from ten to fifteen thousand slaves are sold from the States of Delaware, Maryland and Virginia and sent to the South."[126] Basil Hall was informed, in 1827 or 1828, that during certain seasons of the year, "all the roads, steamboats and packets are crowded with troops of negroes on their way to the slave markets of the South.[127] Vessels, indeed, from the selling States were sometimes seen in New Orleans with as many as two hundred negroes aboard."[128] This transportation of negroes from the border States to the South and Southwest from about 1826 to 1832 may be partly accounted for by the probable falling off in the illicit importations[129] and by the fact that cotton and tobacco, which were the staples of some of the border States, were comparatively low in price,[130] making them very unprofitable crops to cultivate in these States. The cotton raised in North Carolina and Virginia decreased almost half during this time.[131] While it appears as if the lower price of cotton merely had the effect in the new States to increase the acreage in order to make up for the deficiency in price. In the new States there was a wonderful increase in production during this period.[132] Slaves, therefore, were of much less productive value in the border States, while in the new States the demand for them was scarcely lessened. The "New Orleans Mercantile Advertiser," of January 21, 1830, says: "Arrivals by sea and river, within a few days, have added fearfully to the number of slaves brought to this market for sale. New Orleans is the complete mart for the slave trade--and the Mississippi is becoming a common highway for the traffic."[133] In the summer of 1831, New Orleans imported 371 negroes in one week, nearly all of whom were from Virginia.[134] In the same year, August 1831, an insurrection of slaves, in which a number of white people were murdered, occurred in Southampton County, Virginia.[135] This caused much excitement throughout the slave States. It opened the eyes of the people to the danger of a large slave population. It seemed, for a while, that it would have a very detrimental effect upon the domestic slave trade, for several importing States began to consider the advisability of prohibiting the further introduction of slaves. Two of the largest importing States,[136] indeed, passed such laws: Louisiana, which, in March, 1831, had repealed her law regulating the importation of slaves[137] in November of the same year, at an extra session of her legislature enacted a law against their importation for sale.[138] And, in January, 1832, Alabama followed suit.[139] The Virginia Legislature of 1831-2, also took up the question of slavery and with open doors vigorously discussed methods of emancipation, and of getting rid of the negro population. It was recognized that the value of slaves in Virginia depended greatly upon the Southern and Western markets. It was feared that other buying States would follow the lead of Louisiana, thus cutting off the outlet of Virginia's surplus slaves, and while the whites were constantly emigrating, the rapidly increasing black population would tend to become congested in the State, producing a condition of society alarming to contemplate.[140] But these forebodings were far from ever being realized. Indeed, even before the end of the year the conjunction of two causes produced a great demand for slaves and they were soon higher in price than they had been for years. First, planters from the cotton-growing States visited Virginia in great numbers in order to make purchases of slaves, doubtless, thinking they could buy cheaply, as it seemed that on account of the Southampton Insurrection Virginia was determined to get rid of her slaves at all hazards.[141] Second, the most important was the advance in price of cotton. This began, also, in 1832. It continued to rise for several years and by 1836 it had doubled in price,[142] while by 1839 its production, also, had nearly doubled. This increase was due almost wholly to the South and Southwest, Mississippi alone producing nearly one-fourth of the entire crop.[143] As a consequence we should expect to note a corresponding briskness in the slave trade. Such, indeed, was the case. We have no reason to think that more slaves were ever exported to the South from the Northern slave States during any equal period of time than there were from 1832 to 1836 inclusive. Of these 1836 is easily the banner year. In 1832 it was estimated by Prof. Dew that Virginia annually exported for sale to other States 6,000 slaves.[144] During the thirties, or even before the slave trade was carried on between the selling and buying States with about the same regularity as the exchanges of cotton, flour, sugar and rice.[145] Vessels engaged in the business advertised their accommodations. One trader, John Armfield, had three which were scheduled to leave Alexandria for New Orleans, alternately, the first and fifteenth of each month during the shipping season.[146] That the trade had become extensive is evidenced by the newspapers. Up to 1820 it was very uncommon to find a trader's advertisement in a newspaper, but even before 1830 such advertisements had become very plentiful. One could hardly pick up a paper published in the selling States, especially those of the Eastern Shore of Maryland and Eastern Virginia, without finding one or more. These advertisements often continued from month to month and from year to year.[147] An example or two may be interesting: "Cash for Negroes:--I wish to purchase 600 or 700 negroes for the New Orleans market, and will give more than any purchaser that is now or hereafter may come into the market." Richard C. Woolfolk.[148] "Cash for Negroes:--We will give cash for 200 negroes between the ages of 15 and 25 years old of both sexes. Those having that kind of property for sale will find it to their interest to give us a call." Finnall and Freeman.[149] The number of slaves currently estimated to have been transported to the South and Southwest during 1835 and 1836 almost staggers belief. The "Maryville (Tenn.) Intelligencer" made the statement in 1836 that in 1835 60,000 slaves passed through a Western town on their way to the Southern market.[150] Also, in 1836, the "Virginia (Wheeling) Times" says, intelligent men estimated the number of slaves exported from Virginia during the preceding twelve months as 120,000 of whom about two-thirds were carried there by their masters, leaving 40,000 to have been sold.[151] The "Quarterly Anti-Slavery Magazine," July 1837, gives the "Natchez Courier" as authority for the estimate that during 1836, 250,000 slaves were transported to Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas from the older slave States.[152] A committee, in 1837, appointed by the citizens of Mobile to enquire into the cause of the prevalent financial stringency stated in their report that for the preceding four years Alabama had annually purchased from other States $10,000,000 worth of slave property.[153] When the panic of 1837 came upon Mississippi, it was thought, it seems, to have been caused through the amount of money sent out of the State in the purchase of slaves, and Governor Lynch, upon the petition of the people, convened the legislature in extra session, and in his message to it says: "The question which presents itself and which I submit for your deliberation [is]--whether the passage of an act prohibiting the introduction of slaves into this State as merchandise may not have a salutary effect in checking the drain of capital annually made upon us by the sale of this description of property."[154] The panic of 1837 caused a falling off in the domestic slave trade, and the low price of cotton which continued until 1846[155] hindered its revival. The falling off in the trade is shown by the fact that the per cent. of increase in the slave population of the cotton States was scarcely half as great between 1840 and 1850 as during the previous decade.[156] The slave trade, however, seems to have become brisker in 1843, for while only 2,000 slaves are said to have been sold in Washington in 1842, in 1843, 5,000 were sold there.[157] It does not necessarily follow, however, that all these were sent South. The increased number of sales was caused by two things: the decline in the price of tobacco,[158] and the renewed activity in the sugar industry incident upon a new duty on sugar.[159] This gave rise to a demand for slave labor upon the sugar plantations of the South, but it was a very limited demand. During this period the decline in the value of slaves was great in some States,[160] and it appears very probable there was a general depreciation in value. However, before 1850 three important things had happened, each of which had an effect upon the slave trade. First, the admission of Texas, December, 1845; second, the gradual increase in the price of cotton after 1845; third, the discovery of gold in California. The first opened a large cotton country to development and the required slave labor could be legally supplied only from the United States. The rise in cotton which continued almost uniformly until 1860[161] caused a new impetus to be given to its culture, and the discovery of gold in California infused new life into all the channels of trade. In a few years, indeed, after 1845, the demand for slaves seems to have been greater than the supply. A writer in the "Richmond Examiner," in 1849, says: "It being a well ascertained fact that Virginia and Maryland will not be able to supply the great demand for negroes which will be wanted in the South this fall and next spring, we would advise all who are compelled to dispose of them in this market to defer selling until the sales of the present crop of cotton can be realized as the price then must be very high owing to two reasons: First, the ravages of the cholera, and secondly, the high price of cotton."[162] Indeed, during the fifteen years prior to 1860 the demand for slaves became so great that it caused an increase of one hundred per cent. in their price.[163] However, there was not a great increase in the domestic slave trade. According to a custom house report there were shipped from Baltimore in a little less than two years, in 1851 and 1852 only 1,033 negroes.[164] This is certainly not a large showing though it is probable a great many were sent overland to the South from this place during the same time. In a speech before the Southern Convention at Savannah in 1856, Mr. Scott, of Virginia, made the statement that not more than half the lands in the sugar and cotton-growing States had been reduced to cultivation, and that all the valuable slaves in Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky and Missouri would be required to develop them.[165] But at this time the prosperity of the latter militated against the transfer of labor to the cotton-growing States. Probably the conditions in the border States is best described by quoting from a writer in "De Bow's Review" in 1857: "The difficulty," he says, "of procuring slaves at reasonable rates, has already been severely felt by the cotton planters, and this difficulty is constantly increasing. The production of rice, tobacco, wheat, Indian corn, etc., with stock raising, in those States affords nearly as profitable employment for slave labor as cotton planting in other States. They have not, as is generally supposed, a redundancy of slave labor, nor are they likely to have so long as their present prosperity continues. "The recent full development of the rich agricultural and mineral resources of these States, indeed, by an immense demand for their staple productions, have not only given profitable employment to slave labor, but has improved the pecuniary condition of the slave owner and placed him above the necessity of parting with his slave property."[166] Even Olmsted, inadvertently, no doubt, gives evidence of the prosperity of Virginia, a little before this time, when he says that in the tobacco factories of Richmond and Petersburg slaves were in great demand and received a hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars and expenses a year.[167] In North Carolina, also, good hands would bring about the same wages.[168] Though the labor market in the border States was greater than the natural increase of the negro, yet it was hardly to be compared to the Southern demand. As a consequence, when debt, or necessity, or other reason, compelled the sale of slaves, they were often bought by traders and exported.[169] The statement was made by Mr. Jones, of Georgia, in the Savannah Convention, 1856, that negroes were even then worth from $1,000 to $1,500 each, and that there were ten purchasers to one seller.[170] Indeed, so great was the demand for slaves at this time that the advisability of reopening the African slave trade became one of the principal topics of discussion in Southern Agricultural and Commercial Conventions.[171] In fact, the Vicksburg Convention, 1859, passed a resolution in favor of reopening the African trade.[172] The New Orleans newspapers during all this period give evidence of the domestic trade. It was very common during the shipping season to see advertisements to the effect that the subscriber, a negro trader, had received, or had just arrived from Virginia, Maryland, the Carolinas or elsewhere, with a large lot of negroes which were offered for sale. Usually the number would be given as fifty, seventy-five, or even a hundred. This would be qualified by the statement that they would be constantly receiving fresh lots. The same advertisement would continue in the same paper for months and even years. Sometimes half a dozen of these could be found in a single issue of a paper. It would be impossible even to approximate from this source the number sold during any given time, for it is likely the number offered for sale bore but little relation to the actual number sold. The States of Maryland, Virginia and the Carolinas were most conspicuous in these advertisements.[173] Writers on the subject seem to be pretty well agreed that during this period, or during the fifties, about 25,000 slaves were annually sold South from the Northern slave States.[174] It is interesting to notice in this connection what the Census Reports have to show. But in reading it should be remembered that no account is taken of the sale of slaves except as they took place between the buying and selling States. So the sale of slaves between Virginia and Maryland are not indicated nor those between Mississippi and Alabama. The slave population of Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, South Carolina, Tennessee and Missouri in 1820 was in round numbers 644,000, in 1830 997,000 being an increase of 353,000. The slave population in the selling States of Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, North Carolina, Kentucky and the District of Columbia at the same periods[175] was 873,000 and 993,000 respectively, being an increase in these States of 120,000. Total increase of slaves in both sections during the decade, 473,000, from which we deduct 50,000 due to the illicit foreign traffic,[176] leaving 423,000 from natural increase or about 28 per cent. Had the selling States increased at this ratio, instead of 120,000 their increase would have been 244,000. This would seem to indicate that at least 12,400 annually were carried South during this decade. However, only the smaller part of these, and those of the following decade as well, were transported through the operation of the domestic slave trade. Mr. P.A. Morse, of Louisiana, writing in 1857, says that the augmentation of slaves within the cotton States was caused mostly by the migration of slave owners.[177] The "Virginia Times," in 1836, says of the number of slaves exported during the preceding twelve months "not more than one-third have been sold, the others having been carried by their owners who have removed."[178] We conclude from these and other sources[179] that at least three-fifths of the removals of slaves from the border slave States to those farther South from 1820 to 1850 were due to emigration.[180] Thus it is shown that probably 5,000[181] slaves were annually exported by the selling States from 1820 to 1830 by means of the domestic trade. In the next decade adding Florida to the buying State and transferring South Carolina[182] and Missouri[183] to the selling list, we find that in 1830 and in 1840 the buying States had 672,000 and 1,127,000 respectively, being an increase of 455,000; while for the same periods the selling States had 1,333,000 and 1,361,000, being an increase of 28,000. The whole increase, therefore, was 483,000,[184] deducting 40,000 due to illicit foreign trade,[185] we have 443,000 or about 22 per cent. as the natural increase. Had the selling States increased at same rate it would have been 293,000 for the decade. Deducting 28,000 we find that 265,000 can be accounted for only as having been exported. Deducting three-fifths for emigration we have, removing 106,000 for the domestic traffic, an average of 10,600 per year. By 1850, the buying States had another increase of 478,000 and the selling States 180,000. Total increase from 1840 to 1850, 658,000.[186] Deducting 50,000 illicitly imported,[187] we have 606,000 or about 24 per cent. total increase. Accordingly the selling States should have a natural increase of 326,000. Deducting the actual number we have left 146,000, which must have been transported. Deducting three-fifths on account of emigration, there would remain about 58,000 or nearly 6,000 per year for the domestic trade. Adding Texas to the buying States in 1850, they then have 1,663,000, and in 1860 2,296,000, or an increase of 633,000 during the decade. And the selling States 1,541,000 and 1,657,000 respectively, being an increase of 116,000. Total increase 749,000.[188] Deducting 70,000 which were brought in by illicit trade[189] we have a remainder of 679,000 or 21 per cent. natural increase. From natural increase selling States should have had 207,000 more than the actual. Deducting three-fifths on account of emigration leaves a little more than 8,000 per year sold South annually for these ten years. It is very probable that the emigration to the cotton States fell off during the fifties owing to the great prosperity in the border States, and it might be fair to reduce the number estimated to have been carried South by emigration to one-third or one-half, which would leave ten or twelve thousand per year for the domestic slave trade. We feel quite confident that this statistical review of the domestic slave trade, based as it is upon the Census Reports, gives a truer idea of the actual amount of the trade between the selling and the buying States than could be got from any other sources. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 98: Acts Gen. Assembly of S.C. from Feb., 1791, to Dec., 1794, inclusive, Vol. I., 215.] [Footnote 99: Hurd: Law of Freedom and Bondage, Vol. II., p. 74-75.] [Footnote 100: Laws of the State of Delaware, 1793, p. 105.] [Footnote 101: Mr. Miner, of Pennsylvania, in a speech in Congress, January 6, 1829, read the following presentment made by the Grand Jury at Alexandria in 1802. "We the Grand Jury for the body of the County of Alexandria in the District of Columbia, present as a grievance the practice of persons coming from distant parts of the United States into this district for the purpose of purchasing slaves."--Gales and Seaton's Register of Debates in Congress, Vol. V., p. 177. At this time the foreign slave trade was prohibited by statutes in all the states.] [Footnote 102: Claibourne: Mississippi as a Province, Territory, and State, Vol. I., p. 144.] [Footnote 103: It is to be remembered that this was just before the opening of the foreign slave trade by South Carolina.] [Footnote 104: Monette: History of the Valley of the Mississippi, Vol. II., pp. 177-191, 269, 295, 547. Niles' Register, Sept. 13 and Oct. 18, 1817.] [Footnote 105: Census 1870. Population and Statistics, p. 4, 7 (recapitulation).] [Footnote 106: Annals of Congress, 16th Congress, 2nd Session, p. 77.] [Footnote 107: Above Chap. I. Vincent Nolte, p. 189. Am. Col. So. Reports, Vol. I., p. 94. Du Bois, p. 111.] [Footnote 108: Clay's Col. Society Speech, Dec. 17, 1829.] [Footnote 109: William Darby travelled all through the Southwestern part of the country from about 1805 to 1815, and wrote two books: "A Geographical Description of the State of Louisiana, Mississippi and the Territory of Alabama", published in 1817, and the Emigrants' Guide, 1818. He visited both Natchez and New Orleans. F. Cumming Sketches of a Tour to the Western Country, 1807 to 1809. John Bradbury: Travels in the Interior of America in the years 1809-10-11, including a description of Upper Louisiana, together with the Illinois and Western Territories. Christian Scutz: Travels on an Inland Voyage Through the States of New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, and through the territories of Indiana, Louisiana, Mississippi, and New Orleans in the years 1807, 1808. Vincent Nolte: Fifty Years in Both Hemispheres. And others.] [Footnote 110: Niles' Reg., Vol. XIII., p. 119, Oct. 18, 1817.] [Footnote 111: (Paulding): Letters from the South, pp. 122, 128.] [Footnote 112: Hunt's Merchants' Magazine, Vol. VI., p. 473.] [Footnote 113: Birkbeck: Notes on a Journey from the Coast of Virginia to the Territory of Illinois, p. 25. Palmer: Journal of Travels in the United States, p. 142. Francis Hall, Travels in Canada and the United States, p. 358.] [Footnote 114: Fearon: Sketches of America, p. 268.] [Footnote 115: Facts Respecting Slavery, p. 2 in (Yale) Slavery Pamphlet, Vol. LXI.] [Footnote 116: Acts of the General Assembly of Georgia, p. 139. Note.--From 1810 to 1820 slaves increased in Georgia about 44,000, or 43 per cent. The illicit foreign traffic to this State was great during part of this time. Torrey says in 1817, that it was common for masters in Maryland, Delaware and District of Columbia to endeavor to reform bad slaves by threatening to sell them to Georgia. Torrey: Portraiture of Slavery in United States, p. 37.] [Footnote 117: Census 1870, Vol. Pop. and Statistics, p. 7.] [Footnote 118: Ibid., p. 4.] [Footnote 119: Ibid., pp. 4, 6, 7.] [Footnote 120: Monette: History of Mississippi Valley, Vol. II., p. 515.] [Footnote 121: Census 1870. Pop. and Social Statistics, pp. 4, 6, 7.] [Footnote 122: In 1810 there were in Louisiana 34,660 slaves and 7,585 free colored (census reports); according to Monette (Vol. II., p. 515) in 1815 there were about 45,000 blacks. It is reasonable to suppose that at least 8,500 of these must have been free negroes as there were 10,476 free negroes in Louisiana in 1820. (Census reports.)] [Footnote 123: Monette: Vol. IV., pp. 281, 433, 444, 445. Evans: A Pedestrious Tour, p. 173. Niles' Reg., Vol. XIII., pp. 40, 119. Sept. 13, Oct. 18, 1817.] [Footnote 124: State Papers, 16th Congress, 1st Session, Vol. III., Doc. 42. Niles' Reg., May 2, 1818, Jan. 22, 1820; Sept. 6, 1817. Wm. Jay: Miscellaneous Writings, p. 277, Chap. I. above.] [Footnote 125: (Isaac Candler): A Summary View of America during a Journey in 1822-23; p. 273.] [Footnote 126: (Wm. Newnham Blane): An Excursion through the United States and Canada, p. 226.] [Footnote 127: Basil Hall: Travels in North America, Vol. II., p. 219.] [Footnote 128: Ibid.: p. 220. Niles' Reg., Dec. 27, 1828.] [Footnote 129: Du Bois, p. 128.] [Footnote 130: Hunt's Merchants' Magazine, Vol. VI., p. 473.] [Footnote 131: Woodbury's Report, p. 13.] [Footnote 132: Ibid.] [Footnote 133: Quoted from the African Repository, Vol. V., p. 381.] [Footnote 134: Niles' Reg., Nov. 26, 1831.] [Footnote 135: Richmond Enquirer, Aug. 30, 1831.] [Footnote 136: Dew: Debates in Virginia Legislature, p. 59. In (Yale) Slav. Pamp., Vol. XLVII.] [Footnote 137: Acts Legislature Louisiana, 1831, p. 78.] [Footnote 138: Acts of Extra Sess. of 10th Leg. of Louisiana, p. 4.] [Footnote 139: Laws of Alabama, 1831-2, p. 12.] [Footnote 140: Slavery Speeches in Virginia Legislature, Richmond Enquirer, Jan. 19, 21, 24; March 30, 1832.] [Footnote 141: Dew: Debate in Virginia Legislature, p. 50. (Yale) Slav. Pamp., Vol. XLVII.] [Footnote 142: Hunt's Merchants' Magazine, Vol. VI., p. 473.] [Footnote 143: Census 1890, Statistics of Agriculture, p. 42.] [Footnote 144: Dew: Debates in Virginia Legislature, p. 49. (Yale) Sl. Pamp., Vol. XLVII. Dew made this statement in a paper in which his argument required him to prove that the greatest possible number were sent from Virginia.] [Footnote 145: Liberator, May 18, 1833.] [Footnote 146: Daily National Intelligencer, Feb. 10, 1836.] [Footnote 147: Snow Hill (Md.) Messenger and Worcester Co. Advertiser, May 14, 1832, Feb. 11, 1833, March 11, 1833. Winyaw Intelligencer (S.C.), Dec. 11, 1803. Norfolk and Portsmouth Herald, Jan. 16, 1826. Cambridge Chronicle (Md.), Feb. 12, 1831. Charleston (S. C.), Mercury, Feb. 18, 1833.] [Footnote 148: Village Herald (Princess Anne, Md.), Jan. 7, 1831.] [Footnote 149: The Virginia Herald (Fredericksburg, Va.), Jan. 2, 1836.] [Footnote 150: Slavery and the Internal Slave Trade, p. 17.] [Footnote 151: Ibid., p. 13.] [Footnote 152: Quarterly Anti-Slavery Magazine, Vol. II., p. 411.] [Footnote 153: Sl. and Internal Sl. Trade, p. 14. Christian Freeman, July 24, 1845.] [Footnote 154: The Mississippian, April 21, 1837.] [Footnote 155: Hammond: The Cotton Industry, Appendix I. De Bow's Review, Vol. XXIII., p. 475.] [Footnote 156: De Bow's Review, Vol. XXIII., p. 477.] [Footnote 157: Emancipator, Oct. 26, and Nov. 26, 1843.] [Footnote 158: De Bow: Industrial Resources, Vol. III., p. 349.] [Footnote 159: Ibid.: p. 275. Emancipator, Oct. 26, 1843.] [Footnote 160: Liberator, May 19, 1837, May 24, 31, 1839, April 30, 1847.] [Footnote 161: Hammond: Cotton Industry, Appendix I.] [Footnote 162: Quoted from the National Era, Sept. 27, 1849.] [Footnote 163: De Bow's Review. Vol. XXVI., p. 649.] [Footnote 164: Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin, p. 149.] [Footnote 165: De Bow's Review, Vol. XXII., pp. 216-218.] [Footnote 166: P.A. Morse, of Louisiana, De Bow's Review, Vol. XXIII., p. 480. Note.--The statement was made by a South Carolina delegate to the Southern Convention at Montgomery in 1858, that Virginia was then the best market in the Union for the slaves of his State. De Bow's Review, Vol. XXIV., p. 595.] [Footnote 167: Olmsted: Seaboard Slave States, p. 127.] [Footnote 168: Liberator, Jan. 12, 1855.] [Footnote 169: De Bow's Review, Vol. XXVI., p. 650.] [Footnote 170: Ibid.: Vol. XXII., p. 222.] [Footnote 171: De Bow's Review, Vol. XVIII., p. 628; Vol. XXII., pp. 216, 217, 218; Vol. XXIV., pp. 581, 585, 574, 588.] [Footnote 172: Ibid.: Vol. XXVII., p. 470.] [Footnote 173: New Orleans Picaynne, Jan. 8, 15, 1846; Feb. 3, Dec. 10, 1856; Jan. 7, 14, 1858; Dec. 31, 1859.] [Footnote 174: Sumner's Works, Vol. V., p. 62; Olmsted, Cotton Kingdom, Vol. I., (note) p. 58. Chambers: Slavery and Color, p. 148. Chase and Sanborn: The North and the South, p. 22. Note.--The estimate of 60,000 given in Hunt's Merchants' Magazine is scarcely worth consideration. Hunt's Magazine, Vol. XLIII., p. 642.] [Footnote 175: See Chap. I., this volume.] [Footnote 176: Census 1820 and 1830.] [Footnote 177: De Bow's Review, Vol. XXIII., p. 476.] [Footnote 178: Slavery and the Internal Slave Trade, p. 13.] [Footnote 179: Andrews: Sl. and Domestic Sl. Trade, pp. 174, 171, 117, 167. Smedes: Memorials of a Southern Planter, pp. 48-50. Cary: Slave Trade, Domestic and Foreign, p. 109. (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 233. We have not taken into account the slaves brought by planters themselves independently of the traders. See Dew's "Debates," Pro-Slavery Argument, p. 361.] [Footnote 180: Other things which perhaps ought to be considered, but which do not seem to modify results are mentioned in this note; i.e., the mortality on the sugar plantations (Stearns' Notes on Uncle Tom's Cabin, pp. 174-5), and the deaths caused by removal of slaves from a northern climate (Olmsted: Journey in the Back Country, 122; Chambers: Slavery and Color, 147-8). Negroes advertised for sale in the far South were often advertised as acclimated (Mississippi Republican, Sept. 17, 1823; Daily Picayune, Jan. 30, 1856). To offset the loss of life thus caused it is well to remember that the increase of slaves carried to the South was not taken into account, but treated as if they too were carried there. For instance, 1,000 slaves imported in 1830 would at a 20 per cent. rate of increase number 1,200 by 1840, or to take the middle date 1835, 1,100. So each 1,000 slaves brought in during the decade would increase by 100. If 40,000 were introduced by the illicit foreign traffic between 1830 and 1840, and 106,000 by the trade from the border States, it would mean a natural increase of 14,600 for the ten years. This it seems would offset both the deaths on the sugar plantation, and those caused by removal to another climate. Next to be considered are refugees and manumitted slaves; Miss Martineau said that there were about 10,000 negroes in Upper Canada about 1838, chiefly fugitive slaves (W. Travel., Vol. II., p. 101). The Census of 1860 reports that (Vol. Pop. XVI.) 1,011 slaves escaped in 1850, and only 803 in 1860, and that the slave population increased in slave states more than 20 per cent. during the 10 years, and free colored population in the free States only about 13 per cent. It is estimated in De Bow's Industrial Resources (Vol. III., p. 129) that about 1,540 annually escaped. (For other estimates see Seibert Underground R.R., pp. 192, 221 et seq.) The Census of 1860 reports that more than 3,000 were manumitted in census year of 1860, but this was more than twice as many as in 1850. (1860 Vol. Pop., p. XV.). To offset the fugitive slaves and those manumitted the following is given: kidnapped free negroes from a few hundred to two or three thousand yearly free negroes sold into slavery for jail fees, etc. Liberator, Nov. 19, 1841, July 17, 1834; Speech of Mr. Miner in Congress Jan. 7, 1829; (Sturge: A Visit to the U.S., p. 101) voluntary return to slavery--many States made laws before 1860 to provide for such action on the part of the slaves. (Hurd, Vol. II., p. 12, 24, 94, et seq.). The things as mentioned above do not modify the amount of the domestic slave trade as indicated by the statistical review in the text. If one should argue that the allowances we have made are not sufficient, we would ask him to take notice also that it is more than probable that most of the manumissions and escapes from slavery were in the border States, and to that extent lessens the amount of the apparent slave trade. It is impossible to be definite here, we can only approximate.] [Footnote 181: This about accords with Alexander, who said that by means of the internal trade about 4,000 or 5,000 arrived in the Southern States annually. Transatlantic Sketches, p. 230.] [Footnote 182: Between 1830 and 1840 the number of increase in South Carolina was only about 12,000, while during the previous decade it was about 57,000, if for no other reason showing her to be an exporting State.] [Footnote 183: Shaffner: The War in America, p. 256. (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 237. It was rather hard to determine whether Missouri should be classed with selling or buying States. It is likely she did some of both as did some others. But practically all her increase after 1830 at least (aside from natural increase) seemed to be due to immigration from Kentucky and Virginia, though her increase was very large, we think she would rank as a selling State anyhow after 1830.] [Footnote 184: Census 1830 and 1840.] [Footnote 185: Chap. I., this volume.] [Footnote 186: Census 1840 and 1850.] [Footnote 187: Chap. I., this volume.] [Footnote 188: Census 1850 and 1860.] [Footnote 189: Chap. I., this volume.] CHAPTER IV WERE SOME STATES ENGAGED IN BREEDING AND RAISING NEGROES FOR SALE? As we now have a somewhat definite idea as to the amount of the domestic slave trade the next questions which naturally claim our attention are: Were some States consciously and purposely engaged in breeding and raising negroes for the Southern market, and also, what were the sources of supply for the trade? The former of these queries is, no doubt, the most controverted and difficult part of our subject. The testimony of travellers and common opinion generally seems to have been in the affirmative. A quotation or two will suffice to show the trend: The Duke of Saxe Weimar says, "Many owners of slaves in the States of Maryland and Virginia have ... nurseries for slaves whence the planters of Louisiana, Mississippi and other Southern States draw their supplies."[190] In a "Narrative of a Visit to the American Churches," the writer, in speaking of the accumulation of negroes in the Gulf States, says: "Slaves are generally bred in some States as cattle for the Southern market."[191] And the Rev. Philo Tower, writing about twenty years later draws a more vivid picture. "Not only in Virginia," he says, "but also in Maryland, North Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee and Missouri, as much attention is paid to the breeding and growth of negroes as to that of horses and mules.... It is a common thing for planters to command their girls and women (married or not) to have children; and I am told a great many negro girls are sold off, simply and mainly because they did not have children."[192] Undoubtedly some planters in all the slave States resorted to questionable means of increasing their slave stock, but that it was a general custom to multiply negroes in order to have them to sell is very improbable. Many of these travellers show prejudice. We have wondered, therefore, whether it were too much to assume that they had more thought for the effect their narrative would produce in the North or in England than for its truth. Is it not probable that foreigners may have got their information about breeding slaves when in the free States rather than actual evidence of such an industry where the industry was supposed to be carried on? It seems, at any rate, more than probable that the exceptional cases which they found were made to appear as the general rule. Then, too, the very fact that some States sold great numbers of slaves was sufficient evidence to some, no doubt, that they were engaged in the business of raising them for sale. It seems very natural that this should be inferred. Consequently travellers reported that certain sections were engaged in breeding and raising slaves for market. They made the accusation that the so-called "breeding States" were in the slave-breeding business for profit. But was it profitable? If not, why were they in this business? A negro above eighteen years of age would bring on an average about $300 in the selling States from 1815 to, say, 1845. Sometimes he would bring a little more, sometimes less.[193] Between the age of ten and the time of sale we will suppose the slave paid for his keeping. But before that time he would be too small to work. There was always some defective stock which could not be sold;[194] this, taken in connection with the fact that all negroes did not live to be ten years of age, probably not more than half,[195] we shall be under the necessity of deducting about one-half of the $300 on this account. This will leave $150 or $15 per year for the possible expense of raising him. A bushel of corn a month would have been about $8 per year for corn; fifty pounds for meat $4. It is not likely he could have been clothed for less than $3, and the $15 is gone, with nothing left for incidentals. We think the above a very fair estimate.[196] In 1829 the average price of negroes in Virginia was estimated at only $150 each.[197] Why did not the border slave States raise hogs instead of negroes? Bacon was at a good price during that period.[198] The fact is the negroes probably increased without any consideration for their master's wishes in the matter. A planter could stop raising hogs whenever he might choose, but it seemed to be hardly within the province of the master to limit the increase of his negroes. And the better they were treated evidently the faster the increase. A man who had one or two hundred negroes, and had scruples about selling them, unless he should be able to add to his landed estate as they increased was in a bad predicament. It seems some such men had the welfare of their negroes at heart and used every means to keep them. Andrews tells of one: "A gentleman," he says, "in one of the poorer counties of Virginia has nearly 200 slaves whom he employs upon a second rate plantation of 8,000 or 10,000 acres, and who constantly brought him into debt, at length he found it necessary to purchase a smaller plantation of good land in another county which he continues to cultivate for no other purpose than to support his negroes."[199] Sometimes men who were in prosperous circumstances would buy land as fast as their slaves increased and settle them upon it.[200] Slaves were seldom sold until they were over ten years of age,[201] consequently if it were true that the border States made a business of breeding and raising them for sale we should naturally expect to find in these States a much greater proportion under ten than in the buying States. To determine the truth of this we shall have recourse to the Census Reports. The States of Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky and North Carolina, in 1830, had, in round numbers 984,000 slaves, of which 349,000 were under ten years of age, and 635,000 over. This shows that in these States there were 182 over ten years of age to every 100 under ten. Taking an equal number of the principal cotton-growing and slave-buying States, say, Georgia, Mississippi, Alabama and Tennessee, we find that they had 346,000 over ten and 196,000 under ten,[202] consequently for every 176 of the former they had 100 of the latter. Therefore, at this time, the principal so-called "slave-breeding" States had a smaller number of slaves under ten years than an equal number of buying States. The numbers, it will be seen, differ as the ratios 100-182 and 100-176. In 1840 there were in the Southern States about 2,486,000 slaves, of whom about 844,000 were under ten years of age, on an average, therefore, of 100 under ten to every 194 over. Taking each State separately we find that Virginia had just an average, having 100 of the former to 194 of the latter; Maryland, 100 to every 203; Delaware, 100 to 218; District of Columbia, 100 to 280; Kentucky, 100 to 179; North Carolina, 100 to 176; Missouri, 100 to 172; South Carolina, 100 to 205; Louisiana, 100 to 267; Mississippi, 100 to 206; Florida, 100 to 220; Georgia, 100 to 188; Arkansas, 100 to 195; Tennessee, 100 to 170 and Alabama, 100 to 190.[203] Thus it is shown that the buying States of Alabama, Georgia and Tennessee each had more children in proportion to their slave population than Virginia; and that Maryland and Delaware had about the same proportion as the buying States of Mississippi, Florida and Arkansas. It would hardly be fair, however, to compare the District of Columbia with Louisiana. In 1860 we find that the proportion of slave children under ten years of age is much less in all the States than in 1840.[204] In Virginia, at this time, there were 100 under ten years to 227 over that age; Delaware 100 to 233; Maryland, 100 to 229; Kentucky, 100 to 204; South Carolina, 100 to 224; North Carolina, 100 to 202; Missouri, 100 to 190; Georgia, 100 to 221; Louisiana, 100 to 285; Mississippi, 100 to 242; Texas, 100 to 209; Arkansas, 100 to 219; Tennessee, 100 to 200; Alabama, 100 to 221 and Florida 100 to 224.[205] This schedule shows that the buying States which had a greater number of slave children in proportion to their slave population in 1860, than Virginia, Maryland and Delaware, were Georgia, Arkansas, Tennessee, Alabama, Texas, and Florida. It is noticeable in both schedules that the State of Louisiana is an exception. The proportion of children there was much less than in the other States. This is probably due to the strenuous work on sugar plantations. It is also noticeable that the Western States had the greatest proportional number of children, which is to be accounted for by the healthfulness of the climate and by its being a rich and prosperous farming section, where negroes were well fed and probably free from the malarial ailments of some other sections. The conditions, therefore, were very favorable to the prolific negro race. We think it would be only natural that one should expect to have found in Virginia and Maryland, which have had to bear the brunt of the accusation of breeding slaves, the greatest proportion of children; not only because of the reiterated accusations, but also on account of the exportation of adult slaves from these States, which had the tendency to heighten the proportion of children in these States and lessen it in the States to which slaves were carried. With regard to slave breeding, Shaffner, a native of Virginia, says: "From our own personal observation, since we were capable of studying the progress of human affairs, we are of opinion that there is less increase of the slaves of the so-called 'breeding States,' than of the more Southern of Gulf States.[206] "We doubt if there exists in America a slave owner that encourages the breeding of slaves for the purpose of selling them. Nor do we believe that any man would be permitted to live in any of the Southern States that did intentionally breed slaves with the object of selling them.[207] Southerners generally have denied the accusation. When Andrew Stevenson, of Virginia, was minister to England, he was, upon one occasion, taunted by Daniel O'Connell with belonging to a State that was noted for breeding slaves for the South. He indignantly denied the charge.[208] And in 1839 the editor of the "Cincinnati Gazette" was much abused for asserting that Virginia bred slaves as a matter of pecuniary gain.[209] Nehemiah Adams, a clergyman, went South in the early fifties biased against slavery, but says, "the charge of vilely multiplying negroes in Virginia is one of those exaggerations of which the subject is full, and is reduced to this: that Virginia being an old State fully stocked, the surplus black population naturally flows off where their numbers are less."[210] It would seem that these States are not only practically freed from the charge of multiplying slaves and raising them for market as a business, but that, as a rule, they did not sell their slaves unless compelled to do so by pecuniary or other embarrassments. Probably many planters were as conscientious about their slaves as Jefferson appears to have been. In a letter he says: "I cannot decide to sell my lands. I have sold too much of them already, and they are the only sure provision for my children, nor would I willingly sell the slaves as long as their remains any prospect of paying my debts with their labor."[211] It seems that he was finally compelled to sell some of them.[212] Madison parted with some of his best land to feed the increasing numbers of negroes, but admitted to Harriet Martineau that the week before she visited him he had been obliged to sell a dozen of them.[213] And Estwick Evans, who made a long tour of the country in 1818, says, "I know it to be a case, that slave holders, generally, deprecate the practice of buying and selling slaves."[214] No doubt, the planters were always glad to get rid of unruly and good-for-nothing negroes, and these were pretty sure to fall into the hands of traders.[215] The slave traders had agents spread over the States, where slaves were less profitable to their owners, in readiness to take advantage of every opportunity to secure the slaves that might in any way be for sale. They would, even when an opportunity occurred, kidnap the free negroes. They also sought to buy up slaves as if for local and domestic use and then would disappear with them.[216] And it was a common occurrence for plantations and negroes to be advertised for sale. In one issue of the "Charleston Courier" in the winter of 1835 were advertised several plantations and about 1,200 negroes for sale.[217] At such sales negro traders and speculators from far and near were sure to be on hand attracted by the prospect of making good bargains.[218] Probably we could not better close this chapter than with a quotation from Dr. Baily, who was editor of the "National Era," a moderate antislavery paper. It appears to us that he correctly and concisely sums up the whole matter: "The sale of slaves to the South," he says, "is carried on to a great extent. The slave holders do not, so far as I can learn, raise them for that special purpose. But here is a man with a score of slaves, located on an exhausted plantation. It must furnish support for all; but while they increase, its capacity of supply decreases. The result is he must emancipate or sell. But he has fallen into debt, and he sells to relieve himself of debt and also from the excess of mouths. Or he requires money to educate his children; or his negroes are sold under execution. From these and other causes, large numbers of slaves are continually disappearing from the State.... "The Davises in Petersburg are the great slave dealers. They are Jews, who came to that place many years ago as poor peddlers.... These men are always in the market, giving the highest price for slaves. During the summer and fall they buy them up at low prices, trim, shave, wash them, fatten them so that they may look sleek and sell them to great profit.... "There are many planters who cannot be persuaded to sell their slaves. They have far more than they can find work for, and could at any time obtain a high price for them. The temptation is strong for they want more money and fewer dependents. But they resist it, and nothing can induce them to part with a single slave, though they know that they would be greatly the gainers in a pecuniary sense, were they to sell one-half of them."[219] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 190: Bernard, Duke of Saxe Weimar, Travels Through North America, 1825-26, Vol. II., p. 63.] [Footnote 191: Reed and Matheson: Visit to the Am. Churches, Vol. II., p. 173.] [Footnote 192: Tower: Slavery Unmasked, p. 53. Note.--"The following story was told me by one conversant with the facts as they occurred on Mr. J.'s plantation, containing about 100 slaves. One day the owner ordered all the women into the barn; he followed them whip in hand, and told them he meant to flog them all to death; they, as a matter of course, began to cry out, 'What have I done, Massa?' 'What have I done, Massa?' He replied: 'Damn you, I will let you know what you have done; you don't breed. I have not had a young one from you for several months.' They promptly told him they could not breed while they had to work in the rice ditches." Slavery Unmasked was published in 1856. Exactly the same story as above, almost verbatim, is found in "Interesting Memoirs and Documents Relating to American Slavery." published in 1846. The fact that this story is told in different books published ten years apart indicates that such instances were very rare. It seemed strange that each writer should claim to have received the story from a friend, or "one conversant with the facts," for one seems to have copied directly from the other. It was no doubt mere hearsay with both writers. Others on slave breeding are: Buckingham: Slave States of America, Vol. I., p. 182; Miss Martineau: Society in America, Vol. II., p. 41. Jay; Miscellaneous Writings, p. 457. Abdy: Journal of a Residence in the United States, Vol. II., p. 90. Rankin: Letters on American Slavery, p. 35. Candler: A Summary View of America, p. 277. Kemble: Journal of a Residence on a Georgian Plantation, pp. 60, 122.] [Footnote 193: Proceedings and Debates of the Virginia State Constitutional Convention, 1829-30, p. 178. Dew: Debates in Virginia Legislature, 1831-2. Pro-Slavery Argument, p. 358. Andrews: Domestic Slave Trade, p. 77.] [Footnote 194: Chambers: Am. Slavery and C. Laws, p. 148.] [Footnote 195: Kemble: Journal of a Residence on a Georgia Plantation, pp. 190, 191, 199, 204, 214, 215. We get from these that out of about 74 born 42 died very young.] [Footnote 196: Stuart: Three Years in North America, Vol. II., p. 103. He says it cost $35 per year to feed and clothe an adult negro a year. Must cost half that much for a young one.] [Footnote 197: Proceedings and Debates of Virginia State Con. Convention, 1829-30, p. 178.] [Footnote 198: Hunt's Merchants' Magazine, Vol. VI., p. 473.] [Footnote 199: Andrews: Slavery and the Domestic Slave Trade, p. 119.] [Footnote 200: Chambers: Am. Slavery and Color, p. 194.] [Footnote 201: Ibid., p. 148.] [Footnote 202: Census of 1830.] [Footnote 203: Census of 1840.] [Footnote 204: We do not know why unless it is because slaves being higher more care was taken of them, which as a consequence caused them to live longer.] [Footnote 205: For data upon which these arguments are based see Census Reports of 1830, 1840, and 1860.] [Footnote 206: Shaffner: The War in America, p. 256.] [Footnote 207: Ibid., p. 296.] [Footnote 208: Annual Report of Am. and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, 1850, p. 108.] [Footnote 209: Ibid.] [Footnote 210: Nehemiah Adams: Southern View of Slavery, p. 78.] [Footnote 211: Ford: Jefferson's Works. Vol. VI., pp. 416-417.] [Footnote 212: Ford: Jeff. Works. Vol. VI., p. 214.] [Footnote 213: Martineau: Retrospect of Western Travel, Vol. II., p. 5.] [Footnote 214: Evans: A Pedestrious Tour, p. 216.] [Footnote 215: Olmsted: Seaboard Slave States, p. 392.] [Footnote 216: Reed and Matheson: Narrative of a Visit to the American Churches, Vol. II., p. 173.] [Footnote 217: Charleston Courier (S.C.), Feb. 12, 1835.] [Footnote 218: Sequel to Mrs. Kemble's Journal, p. 1. (Yale) Slavery Pamphlet, Vol. XVII. De Bow's Review, Vol. XXIV., p. 595. Liberator, Sept. 7, 1860; also May 6, 1853.] [Footnote 219: National Era, June 10, 1847.] CHAPTER V. THE KIDNAPPING AND SELLING OF FREE NEGROES INTO SLAVERY. Virginia, as early as 1753, enacted a law against importation of free negroes for sale and stealing of slaves.[220] In 1788 another law was passed against kidnapping. It recited that several evil-disposed persons had seduced or stolen children or mulatto and black free persons; and that there was no law adequate for such offenses. This law made the penalty for such a crime very severe. Upon conviction the offender was to suffer death without benefit of clergy.[221] North Carolina had already (1779) enacted a law, with the same penalty, against stealing slaves and kidnapping free negroes.[222] The other Southern States which had laws against kidnapping are: Alabama,[223] Maryland,[224] Mississippi,[225] Missouri,[226] Florida,[227] South Carolina,[228] Arkansas,[229] Tennessee,[230] Louisiana,[231] Georgia.[232] Delaware, however, had the most interesting as well as very severe laws against kidnapping. That of 1793 required that any one guilty of kidnapping or of assisting to kidnap free negroes or mulattoes should be whipped with thirty-nine lashes on the bare back, and stand in the pillory with both of his ears nailed to it, and when he came out to have their soft parts cut off.[233] In 1826 the penalties were made even more severe: $1,000 fine, pillory one hour, to be whipped with sixty lashes upon the bare back, to be imprisoned from three to seven years, at the expiration of which he was to be disposed of as a servant for seven years, and upon second conviction to suffer death.[234] In 1831 Congress passed a law to prevent the abduction and sale of free negroes from the District of Columbia.[235] It is quite evident from these laws that kidnapping was a very common crime. It does not appear, however, that they prevented it. Even as early as 1817 it was estimated by Torrey, who seems to have made a study of the subject, that several thousand legally free persons were toiling in servitude, having been kidnapped.[236] Free negro children were the ones who were most liable to be kidnapped,[237] for the reason probably that they were easier managed and less likely to have about them proofs of their freedom, though sometimes, indeed, even white children, whether being mistaken for negroes or not, were stolen and sold into slavery.[238] More than twenty free colored children were kidnapped in Philadelphia in 1825.[239] It is stated that some persons gained a livelihood by stealing negroes from the towns of the North and carrying them to the South for sale.[240] Statements similar to the following are often to be met with in the papers published in slavery times: "Four negro children, 18, 17, 9 and 5 years respectively--first two girls; last two boys--were kidnapped and carried off from Gallatin County, Illinois, on the evening of 5 ult. The father ... was tied while the children were taken away. The kidnapping gang is regularly organized and is increasing. The members are well known but cannot be punished on account of the disqualification of negroes as witnesses."[241] "About midnight on the 27th of September a party of 8 or 10 Kentuckians broke into the house of a Mr. Powell, in Cass County, Michigan, while he was absent. They drew their pistols and bowie knives and dragged his wife and three children from their beds, and bound them with cords and hurried them off to their covered wagons and started post haste for Kentucky."[242] Probably kidnapping was carried on even more extensively in the slave States themselves. "The Liberator," quoting from the "Denton (Md.) Journal" in 1849 says: "Three free negro youths, a girl and two boys, were kidnapped and taken from the County with intent to sell them to the South.... They had been hired for a few days by Mr. James T. Wooters, near Denton, for the ostensible purpose of cutting cornstalks. After being a day or two in Mr. Wooters' employ they suddenly disappeared.... Enquiry being set on foot, it was, after some days, discovered that they had been secretly carried through Hunting Creek towards Worcester County, thence to Virginia. We learn that the Negroes are now in Norfolk."[243] They were carried to Richmond where they were sold as slaves, but were finally recovered.[244] Notwithstanding the harshness of the Delaware laws against kidnapping and the convictions[245] under them, the business of kidnapping seems to have flourished there. A quotation or two will illustrate: "Two young colored men, free born, were stolen from Wilmington a few nights ago and taken, it is supposed, to some of the Southern slave markets.... Fifty or sixty persons it is said, have been stolen from the lower part of the State in the last six months."[246] In 1840 the "Baltimore Sun" said: "A most villainous system of kidnapping has been extensively carried on in the State of Delaware by a gang of scoundrels residing there, aided and abetted by a number of confederates living on the Eastern Shore of this State."[247] While discussing kidnapping in Delaware, it is very unlikely we should forget to mention probably the most notorious kidnapping gang which the domestic slave trade produced. The principal character of the gang, and the one from which it seems to have drawn its inspiration, and the one from which it took its name--was a woman--in looks more like a man than a woman--Patty Cannon by name--well known by tradition to every Delawarian and Eastern Shore of Marylander. A son-in-law of hers was hanged for the murder of a negro trader. His widow then married one Joe Johnson who became a noted character in the business of kidnapping through the aid and instruction of his mother-in-law, Patty Cannon. Johnson was convicted once and suffered the punishment of the lash and pillory. The grand jury in May, 1829, found three indictments for murder against Patty Cannon,[248] but she died in jail May 11, of the same year.[249] White kidnappers sometimes used free colored men as tools by means of which to ensnare other free colored men, and shared with them the profits of the trade.[250] Indeed, the free colored men seem not to have been much averse in aiding in the enslavement of their "brethren." They sometimes even formed kidnapping bands of their own and pursued the business without the aid of white men. Such a gang as this once operated near Snow Hill, Maryland. It is said to have kidnapped and sent off several hundred free negroes.[251] Kidnappers devised various schemes for the accomplishment of their purposes, some of them no less humorous than infamous. A man in Philadelphia was found to be engaged in the occupation of courting and marrying mulatto women and then selling them as slaves.[252] Another plan was for one or two confederates to find out the bodily marks of a suitable free colored person after which the other confederate would go before a magistrate and lay claim to the ill-fated negro, describing his marks, call in his accomplice as witness and so get possession of the negroes.[253] Probably the most ingenious of all methods of kidnapping was that brought to light in Charleston, South Carolina, as related by Francis Hall: "The agents were a justice of the peace, a constable and a slave dealer.... A victim having been selected, one of the firm applied to the justice upon a shown charge of assault, or similar offense, for a writ, which was immediately issued and served by the constable, and the negro conveyed to prison.... The constable now appears, exaggerates the dangers of his situation, explains how small is his chance of being liberated even if innocent, by reason of the amount of jail fees and other legal expenses; but he knows a worthy man who is interested in his behalf, and will do what is necessary to procure his freedom upon no harder condition than an agreement to serve him for a certain number of years. It may be supposed the negro is persuaded.... The worthy slave dealer now appears on the stage, the indenture of bondage is ratified in the presence of the worthy magistrate and the constable, who shares the price of blood, and the victim is hurried on shipboard to be seen no more."[254] From the nature of our information concerning kidnapping it is readily seen that we have but little basis for a statistical estimate of the number kidnapped. It must have ranged, however, from a few hundred to two or three thousand annually. It appears quite certain that as many were kidnapped as escaped from bondage, if not more. The "Liberator" alone records nearly a hundred cases of detected kidnapping between 1831 and 1860. But the number detected probably bears but little relation to the number actually kidnapped. As was before shown in the cases mentioned almost whole families were carried off, and that in most cases, when a discovery was made, it was found that the kidnapping gang had been in the business for years. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 220: Hening: Statutes at Large, Vol. VI., p. 357.] [Footnote 221: Ibid., Vol. XII., p. 531.] [Footnote 222: Laws of State of North Carolina. Revised Under Authority of the General Assembly, Vol. I., p. 375.] [Footnote 223: Acts of General Assembly of Alabama, 1840-41, p. 125.] [Footnote 224: Maxcy: Revised Laws of Maryland, Vol. II., p. 356 (1811). Dorsey: General Public Statuary Law, Vol. I., p. 112.] [Footnote 225: Hutchinson: Code of Mississippi (1798 to 1848), p. 960. Revised Code of Mississippi, Authority of Legislature (1857), p. 603.] [Footnote 226: Laws of State of Missouri Revised by Legislature (1825), Vol. I., p. 289.] [Footnote 227: Laws of Florida, 1850-51, p. 132-3.] [Footnote 228: Laws of South Carolina, 1837, p. 58.] [Footnote 229: English: Digest of Statutes of Arkansas (1848) Authority of Leg. Chap. LI., p. 333.] [Footnote 230: Hurd: Law of Freedom and Bondage, Vol. II., p. 92.] [Footnote 231: Laws of a Public and General Nature of the District of Louisiana, of Territory of Louisiana and Territory of Missouri and State of Missouri to 1824 (passed Oct. 1, 1804).] [Footnote 232: Hurd: Vol. II., p. 106.] [Footnote 233: Laws of State of Delaware, Oct. 14, 1793. Hurd, Vol. IV. p. 76.] [Footnote 234: Passed Feb. 8, 1826. Laws of Delaware, Vol. VI., p. 715.] [Footnote 235: Statutes at Large, Vol. V., p. 450.] [Footnote 236: Jessie Torrey: A Portraiture of Domestic Slavery, p. 57.] [Footnote 237: An address to the People of North Carolina, p. 38. (Y.) Sl. Pamp., Vol. LXI. Liberator: May 18, 1849. Niles' Reg., Feb. 25, 1826.] [Footnote 238: Emancipator, March 8, 1848.] [Footnote 239: Mrs. Childs: Anti-Slavery Catechism, p. 14. (Yale) Slavery Pamp., Vol. LXII.] [Footnote 240: Buckingham: The Eastern and Western States of America, Vol. I., p. 11. Niles' Reg., Oct. 18, 1828. Liberator, Oct. 1, 1852, Aug. 14, 1857. Alexander, Transatlantic Sketches, p. 230.] [Footnote 241: Liberator, May 18, 1849.] [Footnote 242: Ibid., Nov. 23, 1849. _Other cases_: Liberator, July 31, 1846; Sept. 5, 1845; Oct. 1. 1852; Dec. 3, 1841; Aug. 14, 1857; Aug. 15, 1856; April 25, 1835; Jan. 10, 1835; May 7, 1835; Nov. 6, 1846; Niles' Reg., Sept. 27, 1817; Jan. 31, 1818; May 23, 1818; July 4, 1818; Dec. 12, 1818; Feb. 25, 1826; June 28, 1828. W. Faux, Memorable Days in America, p. 277. Several of these as given took place in slave States.] [Footnote 243: Liberator, April 27, 1849.] [Footnote 244: Ibid., June 8, 1849.] [Footnote 245: North Carolina Standard, June 21, 1837. Niles' Register, April 25, 1829.] [Footnote 246: The Christian Citizen, Dec. 21, 1844. Quoting from Penn. Freeman.] [Footnote 247: Liberator, Feb. 21, 1840.] [Footnote 248: Niles' Weekly Reg., April 25, 1829. Quoting from Del. Gazette of April 17. American Annual Register, 1827-8-9, Vol. III., p. 123.] [Footnote 249: Niles' Register, May 23, 1829. Note on P. Cannon. George Alfred Townsend wrote a romance of about 700 pages, entitled "The Entailed Hat, or Patty Cannon's Times," in which Patty Cannon is one of the principal characters. It is a very interesting and instructive story. Townsend was a native of Delaware and well qualified to write such a story. He says in the introduction: "Often had she told him of old Patty Cannon and her kidnapping den and her death in the jail of his native town. He found the legend of that dreaded woman had strengthened instead of having faded with time, and her haunts preserved, and eye witnesses of her deeds to be still living. "Hence, this romance has much local truth in it and is not only the narrative of an episode, but the story of a large region, comprehending three State jurisdictions." "'Patty Cannon's dead; they say she's took poison.' "A mighty pain seized the Chancellor's heart, and the loud groans he made called a stranger into the room. "'Is that dreadful woman dead?' sighed the Chancellor. "'Yes; she will never plague Delaware again. Marster.' "'God be thanked!' the old man groaned." "Entailed Hat," p. 541.] [Footnote 250: Liberator: Sept. 14, 1849; Jan. 10, 1835.] [Footnote 251: Niles' Register, April 10, 1824; Oct. 10, 1818.] [Footnote 252: Jessie Torrey: A Portraiture of Domestic Slavery, p. 57.] [Footnote 253: Ibid.] [Footnote 254: Francis Hall: Travels in Canada and the United States, p. 425.] CHAPTER VI. SLAVE "PRISONS," MARKETS, CHARACTER OF TRADERS, ETC. In all the large towns and cities were slave "prisons" or "pens"[255] in which slaves were kept until enough for a drove or shipment could be collected.[256] The slave prisons ranged all the way from a rude whitewashed shed[257] to large and commodious establishments accommodating hundreds of slaves. A description of one of these--The Franklin and Armfield prison which was in Alexandria--by Andrews is rather interesting: "The establishment," he says, ... "is situated in a retired quarter in the southern part of the city. It is easily distinguished as you approach it, by the high, whitewashed wall surrounding the yards and giving to it the appearance of a penitentiary. The dwelling house is of brick, three stories high, and opening directly upon the street; over the front door is the name of the firm.... "We passed out of the back door of the dwelling house and entered a spacious yard nearly surrounded with neatly whitewashed two story buildings, devoted to the use of the slaves. Turning to the left we came to a strong grated door of iron opening into a spacious yard surrounded by a high whitewashed wall, one side of this yard was roofed, but the principal part was open to the air. Along the covered side extended a table, at which the slaves had recently taken their dinner, which, judging from what remained, had been wholesome and abundant.... The gate was secured by strong padlocks and bolts."[258] Such was the slave prison of one of the largest and most prosperous slave-dealing firms. There were many dealers who had no place of their own in which to keep slaves, but were dependent upon the "prisons" of others.[259] Indeed, at Washington, the city public prison was often used by negro traders as a place of safety for their slaves. The keeper was paid by the traders for the privilege.[260] This practice continued a great number of years. In 1843 the poet Whittier thus describes the prison: "It is a damp, dark and loathsome building. We passed between two ranges of small stone cells filled with blacks. We noticed five or six in a single cell which seemed scarcely large enough for a solitary tenant. The heat was suffocating. In rainy weather the keeper told us that the prison was uncomfortably wet. In winter there could be no fire in these cells. The keeper with some reluctance admitted that he received negroes from the traders and kept them until they were sold, at thirty-four cents per day."[261] While, no doubt, some traders kept their "prisons" in as good condition[262] as circumstances would allow, there were others, and probably the majority, who did not. A Northern minister describes those at Richmond in 1845, as "mostly filthy and loathsome places."[263] In the buying States two of the principal slave markets were Natchez and New Orleans.[264] That of Natchez is thus described about 1835 by Ingraham: "A mile from Natchez we come to a cluster of rough wooden buildings, in the angle of two roads in front of which several saddle horses, either tied or held by servants, indicated a place of popular resort.... We entered through a wide gate into a narrow court yard. A line of negroes extended in a semicircle around the right side of the yard. There were in all about forty. Each was dressed in the usual uniform when in market consisting of a fashionably shaped black fur hat, ... trousers of coarse corduroy velvet, good vests, strong shoes, and white cotton shirts."[265] ... "There are four or five markets in the vicinity of Natchez. Several hundred slaves of all ages are exposed to sale.... Two extensive markets for slaves opposite each other, on the road to Washington three miles from Natchez."[266] A slave market in New Orleans was described in 1844 as a large and splendidly decorated edifice, which had the appearance of having been fitted up as a place of recreation. It had a number of apartments, a handsome archway, and a large green lawn or outer court "beautifully decorated with trees." In this lawn the sale of slaves was held.[267] When a trader in the selling States had collected enough for a shipment or "coffle" they were sent to the markets in the buying States.[268] Slaves were sent South both by land and water.[269] In the winter they were usually sent by water, but in summer they were often sent by land.[270] In the transportation of slaves the utmost precautions were necessary to prevent revolt or escape.[271] When a "coffle" or "drove" was formed to undertake its march of seven or eight weeks to the South[272] the men would be chained,--"two by two, and a chain passing through the double file and fastening from the right and left hands of those on either side of the chain."[273] This seems to have been the usual method of securing them. The purpose was to have the men so completely bound as to render escape or resistance impossible. The girls, children and women usually were not chained and even sometimes rode in the wagons which accompanied the train.[274] The "droves" were conducted by white men, usually, on horseback and well armed with pistols[275] and whips.[276] The negroes were usually well fed on their way South and when they arrived at their destination, though their personal appearance was not improved, they were generally stouter and in better condition than when they began their march. Pains was now taken to have them polish their skins and dress themselves in the uniform suits provided for the purpose.[277] Then they were ready for market. At the sale the auctioneer would descant at large upon the merits and capabilities of the subject.[278] The slave, too, often would enter into a display of his physical appearance with as much apparent earnestness to command a high price as though he were to share the profits. He would seem to enjoy a spirited bidding.[279] Each negro wished to be sold first as it was thought by them to be an evidence of superiority.[280] At the sales and auctions the purchaser was allowed the greatest freedom in the examination of the slaves for sale. And he would scrutinize them as carefully as though they were horses or cattle. The teeth, eyes, feet and shoulders of both men and women were inspected, sometimes without any show of decency.[281] Scars or marks of the lash decreased their value in market, sometimes the sale would be lost for that reason.[282] In the slave trade there is no doubt that families were often separated.[283] Though Andrews tells of a trader sending a lot of mothers without their children in such a way as to lead one to believe such a case was exceptional.[284] Negroes on large plantations were sometimes advertised to be sold in families.[285] Nehemiah Adams says that in settling estates in the South "good men exercise as much care with regard to the disposition of slaves as though they were providing for white orphan children.... Slaves are allowed to find masters and mistresses who will buy them."[286] Another traveller in speaking of the slave auction at Natchez, says: "It is a rule seldom deviated from, to sell families and relations together, if practicable. A negro trader in my presence refused to sell a negro girl for whom a planter offered a high price because he would not also purchase her sister."[287] As a rule negroes had a great dislike to be sold South; in the early history of the trade this amounted to horror for them.[288] Whether this dislike arose from the impression that they might not be treated so well or simply from the natural dislike of removing to a strange land is a question, though the latter seems much more probable.[289] In 1835, however, it appears that the Virginia slaves were not so averse to going South for the reason that many who had gone there sent back such favorable accounts of their circumstances.[290] Another phase of the domestic slave trade, which it may not be out of way to mention, was the traffic in beautiful mulatto or quadroon girls. It was a part of the slave trader's business to search out and obtain them. At New Orleans, or elsewhere, they were sold at very high prices for the purpose of prostitution or as mistresses.[291] From a letter written in 1850 by a slave dealer of Alexandria, Virginia, we quote the following: "We ... cannot afford to sell the girl Emily for less than $1,800.... We have two or three offers for Emily from gentlemen from the South. She is said to be the finest looking woman in this country."[292] In New Orleans they often brought very high prices. The "Liberator" quoting from the New York "Sun" in 1837 concerning the sale of a girl at New Orleans, says: "The beautiful Martha was struck off at $4,500."[293] And in the New Orleans "Picayune," of the same year, was an account of a girl--"remarkable for her beauty and intelligence"--who sold at $7,000 in New Orleans.[294] Many other instances might be given but we think these sufficient. A word now with reference to slave traders and the general estimation in which they were held in the South. Ingraham says: "Their admission into society ... is not recognized. Planters associate with them freely enough, in the way of business, but notice them no further. A slave trader is much like other men. He is to-day a plain farmer with twenty or thirty slaves endeavoring to earn a few dollars from the worn out land, in some old homestead. He is in debt and hears he can sell his slaves in Mississippi for twice their value in his own State. He takes his slaves and goes to Mississippi. He finds it profitable and his inclinations prompt him to buy of his neighbors when he returns home and makes another trip to Mississippi, thus he gets started."[295] Some traders were no doubt honorable men. Indeed, Andrews gives us a very pleasing picture of Armfield, the noted Alexandria, Virginia, slave dealer. He describes him as "a man of fine personal appearance, and of engaging and graceful manners."[296] ... "Nothing, however, can reconcile the moral sense of the Southern public to the character of a trader in slaves. However honorable may be his dealings his employment is accounted infamous."[297] Upon the whole, no doubt the characterization of the slave traders by Featherstonhaugh was a true one: "Sordid, illiterate and vulgar ... men who have nothing whatever in common with the gentlemen of the Southern States."[298] Finch says: "A slave dealer is considered the lowest and most degraded occupation, and none will engage in it unless they have no other means of support."[299] Indeed it seems they were accounted the abhorrence of every one. Their descendants, when known, had a blot upon them and the property acquired in the traffic as well.[300] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 255: Featherstonhaugh: Excursion Through the Slave States, Vol. I., p. 128.] [Footnote 256: Liberator: Feb. 16, 1833. Buckingham: Slave States, Vol. II., p. 485.] [Footnote 257: Reed and Matheson: Visit to Am. Churches, Vol. I., p. 32.] [Footnote 258: Andrews: Slavery and the Domestic Slave Trade, PP. 135-7.] [Footnote 259: Sturge: A Visit to the United States, p. 107.] [Footnote 260: Miner: Speech in Congress, Jan. 6, 1829. Gales and Seaton's Register of Debates in Congress, Vol. V., p. 167.] [Footnote 261: Whittier: A Letter in Emancipator, Nov. 23, 1843.] [Footnote 262: Andrews: Slavery and the Domestic Trade, p. 164.] [Footnote 263: Christian Freeman, Sept. 10, 1845.] [Footnote 264: African Repository, Vol. V., p. 381, cited from Mercantile Advertiser of New Orleans, Jan. 21, 1830. Tower: Slavery Unmasked, p. 304.] [Footnote 265: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 192.] [Footnote 266: Ibid., p. 201.] [Footnote 267: Christian Freeman, Jan. 2, 1845; quoted from Western Citizen by C.F.] [Footnote 268: Buckingham: Slave States of Am. II., p. 485. Liberator, Feb. 16, 1833. Abdy: Journal of a Residence in the United States, Vol. II., p. 100.] [Footnote 269: Andrews: Sl. and the Domestic Sl. Trade, p. 142.] [Footnote 270: Ibid.: p. 78. Buckingham: Slave States, Vol. II., p. 485. Liberator, Feb. 16, 1833. Featherstonhaugh: Excursion Through the Slave States, Vol. I., p. 120.] [Footnote 271: Niles' Reg., Sept. 5, 1829. Featherstonhaugh: Excursion Through the Slave States, Vol. I., p. 122. Niles' Reg., Oct. 14, 1826; Nov. 18, 1826; May 20, 1826.] [Footnote 272: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 238.] [Footnote 273: Adams: Southern View of Slavery, p. 77.] [Footnote 274: The Christian Citizen, Oct. 26, 1844. Featherstonhaugh: Excursion Through the Slave States, Vol. I., pp. 120-122. Palmer: Journal of Travels in the U.S., p. 142. Birkbeck: Notes on a Journey from the Coast of Va., p. 25.] [Footnote 275: (Paulding): Letters From the South, Vol. I., p. 128. (Ed. 1817.)] [Footnote 276: Buckingham: Slave States of America, Vol. II., p. 533. (Blane): An Excursion Through the U.S. and Canada, p. 226.] [Footnote 277: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 238.] [Footnote 278: Ibid.: Vol. II., p. 30.] [Footnote 279: Ashworth: A Tour in the U.S., Cuba and Canada, p. 81; also Sequel to Mrs. Kemble's Journal, p. 8 in (Y.) Sl. Pamp., Vol. XVII. (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 201.] [Footnote 280: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 201.] [Footnote 281: Christian Freeman: April 10, 1845. Christian Citizen, Nov. 23, 1844.] [Footnote 282: Shaffner: The War in America, p. 293.] [Footnote 283: Tower: Slavery Unmasked, p. 127-8. Andrews: Sl. and Domestic Slave Trade, p. 105.] [Footnote 284: Andrews: Slavery and Domestic Sl. Trade, p. 164.] [Footnote 285: Liberator, May 6, 1853. Sequel to Mrs. Kemble's Journal, p. 11, in (Yale) Sl. Pamp., Vol. XVII.] [Footnote 286: Adams: Southern View of Slavery, p. 72.] [Footnote 287: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 201.] [Footnote 288: (Paulding): Letters from the South, Vol. I., p. 126; (Ed. 1817). Torrey: A Portraiture of Domestic Slavery in U.S., p. 145.] [Footnote 289: Olmsted: Cotton Kingdom, Vol. I., p. 336.] [Footnote 290: Andrews: Slavery and Domestic Sl. Trade, p. 118.] [Footnote 291: Candler: A Summary View of Am., p. 276. Liberator, June 18, 1847. (Blane): Excursion Through the U.S., p. 209. Tower: Slavery Unmasked, p. 304-7.] [Footnote 292: Stowe: Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin, p. 169.] [Footnote 293: Liberator, July 7, 1837.] [Footnote 294: Quarterly Anti-Slavery Magazine, Vol. II., p. 409, July, 1837.] [Footnote 295: (Ingraham): The Southwest, Vol. II., p. 245.] [Footnote 296: Andrews: Slavery and the Domestic Slave Trade, pp. 136, 150. Note:--It is interesting to compare Featherstonhaugh's characterization of Armfield, which is: "I looked steadily at the fellow, and recollecting him, found no longer any difficulty in accounting for such a compound of everything vulgar and revolting and totally without education. I had now a key to his manner and the expression of his countenance."--Featherstonhaugh: Excursion Through the Slave States, Vol. I., p. 167.] [Footnote 297: Andrews: Sl. and Domestic Sl. Trade, p. 150.] [Footnote 298: Featherstonhaugh: Excursion Through the Slave States, Vol. I., p. 128.] [Footnote 299: Finch: Travels in the U.S. and Canada, p. 241.] [Footnote 300: Adams: Southern View of Slavery, p. 77.] CHAPTER VII. LAWS OF THE SOUTHERN STATES WITH REFERENCE TO IMPORTATION AND EXPORTATION OF SLAVES. VIRGINIA. The General Assembly of Virginia, 1778, enacted that "no slaves shall hereafter be imported into this commonwealth, by sea or land, nor shall any slave or slaves so imported be sold or bought by any person whatever," under penalty of one thousand pounds for every slave imported and five hundred pounds for every one either sold or bought, and the slave himself to be free. It was provided, however, that persons removing to the State from other States with the intention of becoming citizens of Virginia might bring their slaves with them, upon taking the following oath within ten days after their removal: "I. A.B. do swear that my removal to the State of Virginia was with no intention to evade the act for preventing the further importation of slaves within this commonwealth, nor have I brought with me, nor have any of the slaves now in my possession been imported from Africa, or any of the West India Islands since the first day of November 1778, so help me God."[301] This act did not apply to persons claiming slaves by descent, marriage or divorce, or to any citizen of Virginia who was then the actual owner of slaves within any of the United States, nor to transient travellers having slaves as necessary attendants.[302] In 1785 a law was passed declaring free the slaves who should afterward be imported and kept in the State a year, whether at one time or at several times. (a) The same exceptions were made as in the law of 1778. In 1796 these acts were amended making it lawful for any citizen of the United States residing in Virginia or owning lands there to carry out any slaves born in the State and bring them back, provided they had neither been hired nor sold. If, however, they were entitled to freedom in the State to which they were removed, they could not again be held as slaves in Virginia.[303] In 1806 a law was passed totally prohibiting the introduction of slaves into Virginia.[304] It was amended, however, in 1811, in favor of residents of the State, as it restored to them the same privileges concerning the importation of slaves which they had under the law of 1778.[305] An act of January 9, 1813, further amended and extended to immigrants the right of bringing in slaves. They were allowed to introduce only such slaves as they had owned for two years or acquired by marriage or inheritance. Any one introducing slaves was put under obligation not to sell them within two years. Those thus importing slaves were required also to exhibit before a justice of the peace a written statement with the name, age, sex and description of each slave, and to take oath that the account was true and that they were not introduced for the purpose of sale or with the intention for evading the laws.[306] The last act of Virginia regarding the importation of slaves was that of 1819. This law permitted the importation of slaves not convicted of crime, from any of the United States.[307] SOUTH CAROLINA. In 1792 South Carolina passed a law to prohibit for two years the importation of slaves from Africa, or from "other places beyond the seas;" it also prohibited the introduction of slaves who were bound for a term of years in any of the United States. An exception, however, was made of citizens who might acquire slaves by marriage, or actual settlers in the State and of travellers.[308] This act was revised in 1794 and extended to 1797. As revised it totally prohibited the introduction of slaves into South Carolina from all places from without the United States.[309] In 1796 it was extended to 1799;[310] again extended in 1798 to 1801 (a); and in 1800 it was again extended to 1803. In 1800, also, an act was passed totally prohibiting the introduction of slaves into the State except by immigrants,[311] and in 1801 it was made even more stringent: Any slaves brought in were to be sold by the sheriff of the district in which they were found upon the order of the court.[312] It was found that the acts of 1800 and 1801 were too rigorous and inconvenient. In 1802 that part of the laws which prevented citizens of other States from carrying their own slaves through South Carolina was repealed. It was provided that any one who wished to pass through the State with slaves might do so; but near the place where he was to enter the State he should take the following oath before a magistrate or quorum: "I, A.B., do swear that the slaves which I am carrying through this State are bona fide my property, and that I will not sell, hire or dispose of said slaves, or either of them, to any resident or citizen, or body corporate or public, or any other person or persons whomsoever, within the State of South Carolina, but will travel directly to the place where I intend to move."[313] In 1803 an act repealing and amending former acts on the importation of slaves was enacted. The introduction of negroes from the West Indies or South America was prohibited; and from any of the other States unless with a certificate of good character. There was no restriction with respect to Africa.[314] No more laws regarding importation were passed until 1816. Then it was enacted that no slave should be brought into the State "from any of the United States or territories or countries bordering thereon." The only exception was in favor of travellers with not more than two slaves, or settlers on their way to other States, who, before entering South Carolina, were required to take an oath with regard to their slaves similar to that required by the law of 1802.[315] This law was amended in 1817 in part as follows: "That every inhabitant of this State who was bona fide entitled in his or her own right or in the right of his wife, to any slave or slaves on the 19th day of December, 1816, or hereafter shall become entitled to any such slave, by inheritance or marriage, shall be permitted to bring them in" on certain conditions.[316] Both the law of 1816 and that of 1817 were repealed in 1818.[317] In 1823 South Carolina made it lawful to bring into the State any slave from the "West Indies, South America, or from Europe, or from any sister State which may be situated to the North of the Potomac River or the City of Washington." No slave was allowed to return to South Carolina who had been carried out of the State and had visited any of these places. The penalty was severe, it being $1,000 and forfeiture of the slave.[318] This law was re-enacted in 1835,[319] and in 1847 it was amended to allow slaves to return who should go to Cuba, on board of any steamboat in the capacity of steward, cook, fireman, engineer, pilot, or mariner, provided he had visited none of the other restricted places.[320] It was amended again in 1848 and Baltimore and all ports on the Chesapeake Bay in the State of Maryland were placed on the same footing with regard to the importation of slaves as the States south of the Potomac.[321] NORTH CAROLINA. In 1786 North Carolina passed her first law to restrict the importation of slaves from other States. It was as follows: "Every person who shall introduce into this State any slave from any of the United States, which have passed laws for the liberation of slaves, shall, on complaint thereof before any justice of the peace be compelled by such justice to enter into bond with sufficient surety, in the sum of $100 current money for each slave, for the removing of such slave to the State from whence such slave was brought, within three months thereafter, the penalty to be recovered, one-half for the use of the State, the other half for the use of the prosecutor, or failure of a compliance therewith; and the person introducing such slave shall also, in case of such failure, forfeit and pay the sum of $200, to be recovered by any person suing for the same and applied to their use."[322] A law of 1794 prohibited the introduction of slaves and indentured servants of color. Exceptions were made of slave owners coming to the States to reside and of citizens of North Carolina inheriting slaves in other States.[323] In 1795 emigrants from the West Indies, Bahama Islands, French, Dutch and Spanish settlements on the southern coast of America, were prevented from bringing in slaves who were more than fifteen years of age. An act of 1776, however, allowed slaves to be brought in who belonged to residents near the Virginia and South Carolina boundaries.[324] A law was passed in 1816 which provided that slaves brought into North Carolina from foreign countries contrary to the act of Congress of 1807, to be sold. No more laws concerning importation were passed after the repeal of the laws against importation about 1818. GEORGIA. Georgia passed a law against the importation of slaves in 1793.[325] This seemed to apply only to slaves imported from without the United States. In 1798 a new constitution was framed which provided "that there shall be no importation of slaves into this State from Africa or any foreign place after the first of October next."[326] In 1817 the following was enacted: "It shall not be lawful, except in cases herein authorized and allowed for any person or persons whatever to bring, import or introduce into this State, to aid, or assist, or knowingly to become concerned or interested in bringing, importing or introducing into this State, either by land or by water, or in any manner whatsoever, any slave or slaves." Citizens of Georgia and those of other States coming to Georgia to live were permitted to bring in slaves for their own use. Before importing them they were required to make oath before the proper authorities that they were not imported for sale, or hire, lend, or mortgage. The act was not to extend to travellers.[327] This act was repealed in 1824 and slaves then were imported and disposed of without restriction.[328] The law of 1817 was revised in 1829; modified in 1836; again repealed in 1841; revived again in 1842.[329] In 1835 a law was enacted making any one subject to fine and imprisonment who should bring into Georgia any male slave who had been to a non-slave-holding State or to any foreign country.[330] In 1849 "all laws and parts of laws, civil and criminal, forbidding or in any manner restricting the importation of slaves into this State from any other slave-holding State" were repealed. Cities and towns were given the right to regulate the sale of slaves by traders, and to prescribe the places in their jurisdiction where slaves might be kept and sold.[331] In 1852 so much of this law as had reference to importation of slaves was repealed and the act of 1817 was revived.[332] But the penitentiary imprisonment clause was eliminated. The law of 1852 was repealed by the Legislature of 1855-6 and the act of 1849 was revived thus again opening the State to the unrestricted importation of slaves.[333] MARYLAND. In 1783 Maryland prohibited the importation of slaves. It was amended in 1791 and also in 1794.[334] In 1796 the General Assembly of Maryland enacted: "That it shall not be lawful, from and after the passing of this act to import or bring into this State, by land or water, any negro, mulatto, or other slave, for sale, or to reside within this State; and any person brought into this State as a slave contrary to this act, if a slave before, shall thereupon immediately cease to be the property of the person or persons so importing or bringing such slave within the State, and shall be free." Immigrants to the State were allowed to bring in their own slaves, at the time of removal or within one year afterward. It was required that these slaves should have been within the United States three years.[335] In 1797 this law was modified in favor of those coming into Maryland to reside. In 1810 a law was passed to prevent those who were slaves for a limited time from being sold out of the State.[336] In 1817 a law was passed regulating the exportation of slaves as follows: "That whenever any person shall purchase any slave or slaves within this State, for the purpose of exporting or removing the same beyond the limits of this State, it shall be their duty to take from the seller a bill of sale for said slave or slaves, in which the age and distinguishing marks as nearly as may be, and the name of such slave or slaves shall be inserted and the same shall be acknowledged before some justice of the peace of the county where the sale shall be made and lodged to be recorded in the office of the clerk of the said county, within twenty days, and the clerk shall immediately on the receipt thereof, actually record the same and deliver a copy thereof on demand to the purchaser, with a certificate endorsed thereupon under the seal of the county of the same being duly recorded."[337] The following year (1818) a law was passed which provided that any slave convicted of a crime, which, in the judgment of the court should not be punished by hanging, might be transported for sale.[338] In 1846 the legislature enacted that slaves, sentenced to the penitentiary should be publicly sold at the expiration of their service and transported.[339] In 1831 a very restrictive law was enacted. It prohibited the introduction of slaves into the State either for sale or residence.[340] The restrictive policy did not continue long, for in 1833 the barrier to the introduction of slaves for residence was withdrawn. Persons removing to the State with the intention of becoming citizens were required to pay a tax on every slave introduced for the benefit of the State Colonization Society.[341] This act was supplemented by another in 1839. Immigrants were required to make affidavit that it was their intention to become citizens of the State, and to pay a tax on their slaves imported from five to fifteen dollars, according to age.[342] In 1847 a provision was made to allow guardians, executors and trustees residing in the State to bring in slaves appointed by a last will.[343] In 1850 all laws against the importation of life slaves was repealed except such as extended to those who were slaves for a term of years or those convicted of crime in another State.[344] Maryland continued open to the introduction of slaves.[345] DELAWARE. Delaware has the distinction of being the only one of the original Southern States to embody a declaration unfavorable to the importation of slaves in her first constitution. In that of 1776 she says: "No person hereafter imported into this State from Africa ought to be held in slavery under any pretense whatever; and no negro, Indian, or mulatto ought to be brought into this State for sale from any part of the world."[346] In 1787 a law was passed regulating the exportation of slaves. A permit was required to export negroes.[347] A law permitting the introduction of slaves who were devised or inherited was enacted. The law against exportation was made more severe.[348] In 1793 another law was enacted to further regulate the exportation of slaves. It only made a slight change. Any negro exported contrary to the act was to have his freedom.[349] In 1828 courts were given the right to sentence slaves for certain offenses to be exported. Those thus exported were not allowed to return to the State.[350] There were re-enactments in 1827 and in 1829 concerning the exportation of slaves.[351] In 1833 a law was passed to enable farmers to carry slaves into Maryland to cultivate land without incurring any penalty.[352] There seems to have been no more enactments of Delaware concerning importation or exportation of slaves. LOUISIANA. The act of Congress in 1804 erecting Louisiana into a territory prohibited the introduction of slaves into it from without the United States. Only slaves imported before May 1, 1798, could be introduced, and those had to be slaves of actual settlers.[353] An act of Louisiana in 1810 was to prevent the introducing of slaves who had been guilty of crime.[354] It was not until 1826 that Louisiana as a State passed any law against the introduction of slaves as merchandise. But this year it was enacted "That no person or persons shall after the first day of June 1826, bring into this State any slave or slaves with the intention to sell or hire the same." Citizens of Louisiana and immigrants could bring in their own slaves, but were not allowed to hire, exchange or sell them within two years after such importation.[355] This act was repealed in 1828,[356] but in 1829 another law was passed which required that any one who should introduce slaves above twelve years of age to have a certificate for each slave, signed by two respectable and well known freeholders of the county from which the slaves were brought, accompanied with their declaration on oath that the slaves had never been guilty of crime, and that they were of good character. Children under ten years of age could not be brought in separate from their mother.[357] This was repealed March 24, 1831.[358] Almost immediately after the Southampton Massacre in Virginia, Louisiana called an extra session of her legislature. The only important act of the session was an act prohibiting importation of slaves for sale or hire. Immigrants and citizens were prohibited from bringing in slaves from Alabama, Mississippi, Florida and Arkansas. Those permitted to be brought in could not be sold or hired within five years. A certificate as in the law of 1829 was also required.[359] It was amended during the same session and the States of Tennessee, Kentucky and Missouri were included in the prohibition.[360] It was repealed in 1834[361] and no other law with respect to the importation of slaves was ever enacted by Louisiana. MISSISSIPPI. The Act of Congress in 1798, establishing a government in the Mississippi Territory prohibited the importation of slaves from without the United States,[362] and the constitution of 1817 excluded slaves guilty of "high crimes in other States."[363] The territorial act of 1808 made it unlawful "to expose for sale any slave above fifteen years of age without having previously exhibited to the chief justice of the Orphans' Court of the county where offered for sale, a certificate signed by two respectable freeholders living in the county from whence the slave was brought, describing the stature, complexion, sex, name, and not to have been guilty of any murder, crime, arson, burglary, felony, larceny to their knowledge or belief where he came from, which certificate shall be signed and acknowledged before the clerk of the county from whence he came, and certification by said clerk that those whose names are prefixed are respectable freeholders.... Such certificates aforesaid shall be registered with the register of the orphans' court where such slaves are sold, the seller taking oath that he believes said certificate is just and true."[364] In 1819 another act was passed to amend the law of 1808. Slaves brought into the State as merchandise were made subject to a tax of twenty dollars each. A certificate was required as in the law of 1808, but it was not to apply to those brought in for their own use by citizens and immigrants except those from Louisiana and the Alabama territory.[365] An act of 1822 reduced into one the several acts concerning slaves, free negroes and mulattoes, but no important changes were made with regard to the importation of slaves.[366] The new constitution of 1832, like that of 1817, excluded slaves guilty of "high crime in other States." It declared, also, that "The introduction of slaves into this State as merchandise, or for sale, shall be prohibited from and after the first day of May eighteen hundred and thirty-three."[367] This provision of the constitution gave rise to a great deal of litigation;[368] nor was it effective in prohibiting importation of slaves. The latter appears from the fact that in 1837 by an act of the legislature "the business of introducing or importing slaves into this State as merchandise, or for sale be, and the same is hereby prohibited." The penalty was $500 and six months' imprisonment for each slave so brought in, and notes which might be given for slaves were not collectable.[369] This law was repealed in 1846.[370] ALABAMA. The first law passed by Alabama concerning the importation of slaves was for the purpose of carrying into effect the laws of the United States prohibiting the slave trade. This was enacted in 1823 and provided that slaves imported should be employed on public works or sold for the State.[371] But on January 13, 1827, it was enacted that "if any person or persons, shall bring into this State any slave or slaves, for the purpose of sale or hire, or shall sell or hire, any slave or slaves brought into this State after the first day of August next, such person or persons shall forfeit and pay the sum of $1,000 for each negro so brought in, one-half thereof to the person suing for the same and the other half to the use of the State. And, moreover, any person thus offending shall be subject to indictment, and on conviction shall be liable to be fined a sum not exceeding five hundred dollars for each offense and shall be imprisoned not exceeding three months, at the discretion of the jury trying such offense." Citizens of the State, however, were allowed to purchase negroes for their own use but could not sell them until two years after being brought into the State.[372] This law was repealed in 1829.[373] Another prohibitive law was passed January 16, 1832. But immigrants were allowed to bring their own slaves with them and citizens of the State could import slaves for their own use, when these introduced slaves returns were to be made upon oath to the county courts within thirty days, describing them, and declaring that they were not introduced for the purpose of sale or hire. Citizens of Alabama could import slaves which might have become theirs by inheritance or marriage. The provisions of the law did not apply to travellers, nor to citizens temporarily removed from the State.[374] This was repealed December 4, 1832,[375] and no other prohibitive law was enacted. KENTUCKY. The laws passed by Virginia concerning importation of slaves prior to 1790 were in force in Kentucky until 1798.[376] This year an act reducing into one several acts, concerning slaves, free negroes, mulattoes and Indians was passed. No slaves could be imported into Kentucky who were introduced into the United States from foreign countries, except by immigrants who did not violate this provision. Citizens could do the same. But no slaves might be imported as merchandise.[377] An act amending this was approved February 8, 1815. No one was allowed to bring slaves into Kentucky except those intending to settle in the State, and they were required to take the following oath: "I, A.B., do swear (or affirm) that my removal to the State of Kentucky, was with an intention to become a citizen thereof, and that I have brought with me no slave or slaves, and will bring no slave or slaves to this State with the intention of selling them."[378] In 1833 it was enacted "That each and every person who shall hereafter import into this State any slave or slaves, or who shall sell or buy, or contract for the sale, or purchase, for a longer term than one year, of the service of any such slave or slaves, knowing the same to have been imported as aforesaid, he, she, or they, so offending, shall forfeit $600 for each slave so imported, sold or bought or whose service has been so contracted for."[379] It was not to apply to immigrants provided they took the required oath; nor to citizens of Kentucky who derived their "title by will, descent, distribution, marriage, gift, or in consideration of marriage;" nor to travellers who could prove to the satisfaction of a jury that the slaves were for necessary attendance.[380] There were minor acts and quite a number of acts of a private character. TENNESSEE. Tennessee was originally a part of North Carolina and the laws of North Carolina which were in force at the time of the cession of Tennessee to the United States in 1790 were continued in force in Tennessee.[381] The first law passed by Tennessee with reference to importation of slaves was in 1812. It prohibited their importation as merchandise for a term of five years. Persons coming as settlers or residents who had acquired slaves by descent, devise, marriage, or purchase for their own use were permitted to import them. Immigrants were obliged to take the following oath: "I, A.B., do solemnly swear or affirm that I have removed myself and slaves to the State of Tennessee with the full and sole view of becoming a citizen, and that I have not brought my slave or slaves to this State with any view to the securing of the same against any rebellion or apprehension of rebellion, so help me God."[382] No other law concerning importation was enacted until 1826. It was practically the same as that of 1812 except that it was a perpetual act and no one was allowed to introduce slaves which had been guilty of crimes in other States.[383] This act continued in force until 1855 when so much of it was repealed as related to the importation of slaves as merchandise.[384] MISSOURI, ARKANSAS, FLORIDA AND TEXAS. The Constitution of Missouri (1820) circumscribed the powers of the legislature with reference to importation of slaves as follows: "The General Assembly shall have no power to pass laws to prevent bona fide immigrants to this State or actual settlers therein from bringing from any of the United States, or from any of their territories, such persons as may there be deemed to be slaves, so long as any persons of the same description are allowed to be held as slaves by the laws of this State. "They shall have power to pass laws: "To prohibit the introduction into this State of any slaves who may have committed any high crime in any other State or territory; "To prohibit the introduction of any slave for the purpose of speculation, or as an article of trade or merchandise; "To prohibit the introduction of any slave or the offspring of any slave, who heretofore may have been, or who hereafter may be imported from any foreign country into the United States or any territory thereof in contravention of any existing statue of the United States."[385] The first constitutions of most of the other Southern States had provisions somewhat similar to these among which are Arkansas,[386] Florida,[387] and Texas.[388] The only laws passed by Missouri regarding importation were those of 1835, 1843 and 1845. The law of 1843 simply prohibited the importation of slaves entitled to freedom at a future date[389] and against kidnapping in 1845.[390] The law of 1835 was the leading one. It prohibited the introduction of any slave who had elsewhere committed any infamous crime, or any who had been removed from Missouri for crime, or any imported into the United States contrary to law.[391] Texas[392] and Florida[393] as States seem never to have prohibited the importation of slaves except those guilty of crime. The only act of Arkansas concerning importation was passed in 1838 and put in force by proclamation of the Governor March 20, 1839. It was never repealed so far as we could find, and is as follows: "No person shall knowingly bring or cause to be brought into this State, or hold, purchase, hire, sell, or otherwise dispose of within the same; first, any slave who may have committed in any other State, territory or district within the United States, or any foreign country, any offense, which, if committed within the State, would, according to the laws thereof, be felony or infamous crime; or second, any slave who shall have been convicted in this State, of any felony or infamous crime, and ordered to be taken or removed out of this State, according to the laws thereof; or third, any slave who shall have actually been removed out of this State after a conviction of felony or other infamous crime, although no order of removal shall have been made; or fourth, any person or the descendant of any person, who shall have been imported into the United States, or any of the territories thereof in contravention of the laws of the United States, and held as a slave."[394] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 301: Hening: Statutes at Large, Vol. IX., p. 471.] [Footnote 302: Hening: Vol. IX., p. 471. (a) Ibid., Vol. XII., p. 182.] [Footnote 303: Shepherd: Statutes at Large, of Va., Vol. II., p. 19.] [Footnote 304: Shepherd: Statutes at Large, Vol. III., p. 251.] [Footnote 305: Acts of 1810-1811, p. 15, C. 14.] [Footnote 306: Acts of the General Assembly of Va., 1812-13, p. 26. C. 28.] [Footnote 307: Ibid., 1818-19, p. 37, C. 26.] [Footnote 308: Faust: Acts of General Assembly of S.C. From 1791 to 1794, Vol. I., p. 215. McCord, Statutes at Large of S.C., Vol. VII., p. 431.] [Footnote 309: McCord: Vol. VII., p. 433.] [Footnote 310: Ibid.: p. 434 (a) p. 435.] [Footnote 311: Ibid.: pp. 436-439.] [Footnote 312: Ibid., p. 444.] [Footnote 313: McCord: Stat. at Large of S.C., Vol. VII., p. 447.] [Footnote 314: Ibid., p. 449.] [Footnote 315: Acts and Resolutions of the General Assembly of S.C., 1816, p. 22.] [Footnote 316: Acts of S.C., 1817, p. 17.] [Footnote 317: Laws of South Carolina, 1818, p. 57.] [Footnote 318: Ibid., 1823, p. 61.] [Footnote 319: Ibid., 1835, p. 37.] [Footnote 320: Ibid., 1848, Dec. 19, 1848.] [Footnote 321: Laws of S.C., 1848, Dec. 19, 1848.] [Footnote 322: Revised Statutes, by Authority of the General Assembly, 1836-7, Vol. II, p. 575. Chap. III., Sec. 19. We could not find that it was ever repealed. It is to be found in the Revised Code of North Carolina, 1854. As this was taken from the Revised Statutes of 1836-7, it is natural to find the penalty expressed in dollars, rather than in pounds.] [Footnote 323: Hayward: A Manual of the Laws of N.C., to 1817 inclusive, p. 533. Must have been repealed between 1817 and 1819, as it is not in the Revised Statutes of 1819.] [Footnote 324: Hurd: Law of Freedom and Bondage, Vol. II, p. 84.] [Footnote 325: Hurd: Freedom and Bondage, Vol. II, p. 101.] [Footnote 326: Poore: Fed. and State Constitutions, Part I., p. 395.] [Footnote 327: Acts of General Assembly of Ga., 1817, p. 139.] [Footnote 328: Ibid., 1824, p. 124.] [Footnote 329: Hurd: Law of Freedom and Bondage, Vol. II., p. 103.] [Footnote 330: Acts of the State of Ga., 1835, p. 267.] [Footnote 331: Laws of Ga., 1849-50, p. 374.] [Footnote 332: Acts of Ga., 1851-2, p. 263.] [Footnote 333: Acts of Ga., 1855-6, p. 271.] [Footnote 334: Hurd: Law of Freedom and Bondage, Vol. II., p. 19.] [Footnote 335: Maxcy: The Laws of Md., Vol. II, p. 351. Co. 67. Hurd: Vol. II., p. 21.] [Footnote 336: Ibid.: 1897, Chap. 15. Other exceptions by Public and Private Acts, 1798, C. 76; 1812, C. 76; 1813, C. 55; 1818-19, C. 201; Hurd: Vol. II., p. 19.] [Footnote 337: Dorsey: General Laws of Md., 1692 to 1839, Vol. I., p. 661.] [Footnote 338: Laws of Md., 1818, C. 197, Sec. 2. Dorsey: Vol. I., p. 702.] [Footnote 339: Laws of Md., 1846, Chap. 340, Sec. 2.] [Footnote 340: Dorsey: Gen. Public and Private Stat. Law, Vol. II., p. 1069; C. 323, Sec. 4.] [Footnote 341: Dorsey: Ibid., Vol. I., p. 335, note. Laws of Gen. Assembly of Md., 1833-4, Chap. 87.] [Footnote 342: Dorsey: Laws of Md., 1602 to 1839, inclusive, Vol. III., p. 2325. Laws of 1839, Ch. 155.] [Footnote 343: Laws of Md. 1847, Chap. 232, Sec. I.] [Footnote 344: Laws of Md., 1849-50, Chap. 165, Sec. I., II., IV.] [Footnote 345: Mackall, Md. Code, adopted by Leg. 1860, Vol. I., p. 450.] [Footnote 346: Poore: Fed. and State Constitutions, Part I., p. 277.] [Footnote 347: Hurd: Vol. II., p. 74.] [Footnote 348: Ibid., p. 75.] [Footnote 349: Laws of State of Del., 1793, p. 105-6. This act of Del. was sustained by the Court of Baltimore in a case brought before it in 1840. Liberator, July 24, 1840.] [Footnote 350: Laws of Delaware, Dover, 1829, Vol. VII., p. 122, Feb. 7, 1829.] [Footnote 351: Hurd: Vol. II., pp. 79-80.] [Footnote 352: Laws of Del., Vol. VIII., p. 246. Dover, 1837, passed Feb. 5, 1833.] [Footnote 353: Poore: Fed. and State Constitutions, Part I., p. 693.] [Footnote 354: Hurd: Freedom and Bondage, Vol. II., p. 159.] [Footnote 355: Acts of Second Sess. of Seventh Legislature, pp. 114-116.] [Footnote 356: Acts 2nd Sess. 8th Leg. (1828), p. 22.] [Footnote 357: Laws of La., 1829, 1st Sess. 9th Leg., p. 38.] [Footnote 358: Laws of La., 1831, p. 76.] [Footnote 359: Acts of Extra Sess. of 10th Leg. of La., p. 4.] [Footnote 360: Hurd: Vol. II., p. 162.] [Footnote 361: Laws of La., 1834, p. 6.] [Footnote 362: Poore: Fed. and State Constitutions, Part II., p. 1050.] [Footnote 363: Ibid., p. 1064.] [Footnote 364: Turner: Statutes of the Miss. Territory, Digested by Authority of the General Assembly, (1816) p. 386-7.] [Footnote 365: Acts of 1st Sess. of 2nd Gen. Assem. of Miss., p. 5.] [Footnote 366: Laws Miss., Adj'd. Sess. June, 1822, p. 179.] [Footnote 367: Poore: Fed. and State Constitutions, Part II., p. 1077.] [Footnote 368: De Bow's Review, Vol. VIII., p. 23.] [Footnote 369: Laws of Miss. from 1824 to 1838, Pub. by Authority of Legislature, p. 758.] [Footnote 370: Hurd: Vol. II., p. 148.] [Footnote 371: Ibid., p. 150.] [Footnote 372: Acts of Assembly of Ala., 1827, p. 44.] [Footnote 373: Ibid., 1829. p. 63.] [Footnote 374: Acts of Assembly of Ala., 1831-2, pp. 12-13-14.] [Footnote 375: Ibid., 1832-3, p. 5.] [Footnote 376: Hurd: Vol. II., pp. 14-15.] [Footnote 377: Toulmin: A Collection of all the Acts of Ky. now in Force (1802), pp. 307-308. Hurd: Vol. II., pp. 14-15.] [Footnote 378: Acts. Leg. 1814-15, pp. 435-6.] [Footnote 379: Ibid., 1832-33, p. 258.] [Footnote 380: Laws of Kentucky, 1832-33, p. 258.] [Footnote 381: Hurd: Vol. II., p. 89 and Note 2.] [Footnote 382: Acts of Tenn., 2nd Sess., 9th Gen. Assembly (1812), p. 84.] [Footnote 383: Acts of the Extra Sess. of the 16th General Assembly of Tennessee, 1826, p. 31.] [Footnote 384: Acts of General Assembly of Tenn., 1855-6, p. 71.] [Footnote 385: Poore: Fed. and State Con., Part II., p. 1107.] [Footnote 386: Ibid., Part I., p. 113.] [Footnote 387: Ibid., p. 329.] [Footnote 388: Ibid., Part II., p. 1779.] [Footnote 389: Hurd: Vol. II., p. 170.] [Footnote 390: Revised Statutes of Mo., Revised and Digested by 13th Gen. Assembly (1844-5), p. 351.] [Footnote 391: Revised Statutes of Mo. (1844-5), p. 1013.] [Footnote 392: Hurd: Vol. II., p. 199.] [Footnote 393: Ibid., p. 192.] [Footnote 394: English: Digest of Statutes of Arkansas, p. 947, Chap. 154. Sec. 30. Same law in Digest by Gould, pub. 1858, by authority of Legislature, Chap. 162, Sec. 28.] BIBLIOGRAPHY. Andrews, E.A., Prof.: Slavery and the Domestic Slave Trade. Boston, 1836. Adams, Nehemiah: A Southside View of Slavery. Boston, 1854. 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By Authority of the Legislature. Athens, Ga. 1837. _Kentucky_: Laws of 1814-15, 1832-33. Harry Toulmin: A Collection of all Public and Permanent Acts of the General Assembly of Kentucky which are now in Force. Frankford, Ky. 1802. _Louisiana_: Laws of 1826, 1828, 1829, 1831, (also Extra Sess. 1831). 1834. _Maryland_: Laws of 1809, 1818, 1833-4, 1846, 1847, 1849-50. Clement Dorsey: The General Public Statutory Law and Public Local Law of the State of Maryland from the year 1692 to 1836 inclusive. 3 vols. Baltimore, 1840. Virgil Maxcy: The Revised Laws of Maryland. 3 vols. Baltimore, 1811. Henry C. Mackall: The Maryland Code Adopted by the Legislature in 1860. Baltimore, 1860. _Mississippi_: Laws ... from January Session 1824 to the January Session 1838 inclusive. Published by Authority of the Legislature. Jackson, Miss. 1838. Laws of 1819. Adjd. Sess. 1822. (Turner): Statutes of the Mississippi Territory, Digested by authority of the General Assembly. Natchez, 1816. A. Hutchinson: Code of Mississippi from 1798 to 1848. Jackson, 1848. _Missouri_: Laws of the State of Missouri. Revised and Digested by Authority of the General Assembly. 2 vols. St. Louis, 1825. Revised Statutes of the State of Missouri. Revised and Digested by the 13th General Assembly, Session 1844-5. St. Louis, 1845. _North Carolina_: Laws of the State of North Carolina as are now in Force in this State. Revised under Authority of the General Assembly of 1819. 2 vols. Raleigh, 1821. Revised Statutes passed by the General Assembly of 1836-7. 2 vols. Raleigh, 1837. John Haywood: A Manual of the Laws of North Carolina; (4th Ed.) Raleigh, 1819. _South Carolina_: Laws of 1816, 1817, 1818, 1823, 1835, 1837, 1847, 1848. Acts of the General Assembly of the State of South Carolina from February 1791 to December 1794, both inclusive. 1st vol. 1795 to 1804, both inclusive. Columbia, 1808. David J. McCord: The Statutes at Large of South Carolina. Edited under Authority of the Legislature. Vol. VII. Columbia, 1840. _Tennessee_: Laws of 1812, Extra Sess. 1826, 1855. _Virginia_: Acts of the General Assembly of 1810-11, 1818-19. Samuel Shepherd: The Statutes at Large of Virginia, from October Session 1792 to December Session 1806 inclusive. 3 vols. (New Series). Being a continuation of Hening. Richmond, 1835 and 1836. Wm. Waller Hening: Statutes at Large of Virginia. 13 vols. Richmond, 1812. United States, Statutes at Large Vol. V. T.R.R. Cobb: Law of Negro Slavery in the Various States of the United States. Philadelphia, 1856. John Codman Hurd: The Law of Freedom and Bondage in the United States. 2 vols. Boston, 1862. 
21064	----	A Middy in Command A Tale of the Slave Squadron By Harry Collingwood ________________________________________________________________________ Another excellent book by this talented nautical author. As the title implies, it is the tale of a young man who is a midshipman in the Royal Navy's anti-slave-trade squadron. There are the usual accidents and swimming events, but the young man secures his promotion by his distinguished performance in the capture of a slaver. A well-written book by an author who from his actual trade understands how sailing ships are designed and built, and whose works are by that reason all the more worthy of reading. It makes a very nice audiobook, of eleven and a half hours duration. ________________________________________________________________________ A MIDDY IN COMMAND A TALE OF THE SLAVE SQUADRON BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD CHAPTER ONE. OUR FIRST PRIZE. The first faint pallor of the coming dawn was insidiously extending along the horizon ahead as H.M. gun-brig _Shark_--the latest addition to the slave-squadron--slowly surged ahead over the almost oil-smooth sea, under the influence of a languid air breathing out from the south-east. She was heading in for the mouth of the Congo, which was about forty miles distant, according to the master's reckoning. The night had been somewhat squally, and the royals and topgallant-sails were stowed; but the weather was now clearing, and as "three bells" chimed out musically upon the clammy morning air, Mr Seaton, the first lieutenant, who was the officer of the watch, having first scanned the heavens attentively, gave orders to loose and set again the light upper canvas. By the time that the men aloft had cast off the gaskets that confined the topgallant-sails to the yards, the dawn--which comes with startling rapidity in those latitudes--had risen high into the sky ahead, and spread well along the horizon to north and south, causing the stars to fade and disappear, one after another, until only a few of the brightest remained twinkling low down in the west. As I wheeled at the stern-grating in my monotonous promenade of the lee side of the quarter-deck, a hail came down from aloft-- "Sail ho! two of 'em, sir, broad on the lee beam. Look as if they were standin' out from the land." "What are they like? Can you make out their rig?" demanded the first luff, as he halted and directed his gaze aloft at the man on the main- royal-yard, who, half-way out to the yard-arm, was balancing himself upon the foot-rope, and steadying himself with one hand upon the yard as he gazed away to leeward under the shade of the other. "I can't make out very much, sir," replied the man. "They're too far off; but one looks like a schooner, and t'other like a brig." "And they are heading out from the land, you say?" demanded the lieutenant. "Looks like it, sir," answered the man; "but, as I was sayin', they're a long way off; and it's a bit thick down to leeward there, so--" "All right, never mind; cast off those gaskets and come down," interrupted Mr Seaton impatiently. Then, turning to me, he said: "Mr Grenvile, take the glass and lay aloft, if you please, and see what you can make of those strangers. Mr Keene"--to the other midshipman of the watch--"slip down below and call the captain, if you please. Tell him that two strange sail have been sighted from aloft, apparently coming out from the Congo." By the time he had finished speaking I had snatched the glass from its beckets, and was half-way up the weather main rigging, while the watch was sheeting home and hoisting away the topgallant-sails and royals. When Keene reappeared on deck, after calling the skipper, I was comfortably astride the royal-yard, with my left arm round the spindle of the vane--the yard hoisting close up under the truck. With my right hand I manipulated the slide of the telescope and adjusted the focus of the instrument to suit my sight. By this time the dawn had entirely overspread the firmament, and the sky had lost its pallor and was all aglow with richest amber, through which a long shaft of pale golden light, soaring straight up toward the zenith, heralded the rising of the sun. The thickness to leeward had by this time cleared away, and the two strange sail down there were now clearly visible, the one as a topsail schooner, and the other as a brig. They were a long way off, the topsails of the brig--which was leading-- being just clear of the horizon from my elevated point of observation, while the head of the schooner's topsail just showed clear of the sea. The brig I took to be a craft of about our own size, say some three hundred tons, while the schooner appeared to be about two hundred tons. I had just ascertained these particulars when the voice of the skipper came pealing up to me from the stern-grating, near which he stood, with Mr Seaton alongside of him. "Well, Mr Grenvile, what do you make of them?" I replied, giving such information as I had been able to gather; and added: "They appear to be sailing in company, sir." "Thank you, that will do; you may come down," answered the skipper. Then, as I swung myself off the yard, I heard the lieutenant give the order to bear up in chase, to rig out the port studding-sail booms, and to see all clear for setting the port studding-sails--or stu'n'sails, as they are more commonly called. I had reached the cross-trees, on my way down, when Captain Bentinck again hailed me. "Aloft there! just stay where you are for a little while, Mr Grenvile, and keep your eye on those sail to leeward. And if you observe any alteration in the course that they are steering, report the fact to me at once." "Ay, ay, sir!" I answered, and settled myself down comfortably for what I anticipated might be a fairly long wait. For a few minutes all was now bustle and confusion below and about me; the helm was put up and the ship wore short round, the yards were swung, and then several hands came aloft to reeve the gear, rig out the booms, and set the larboard studding-sails, from the royals down. We rather prided ourselves upon being a smart ship, and in less than five minutes from the moment the order was given we were sliding away upon our new course, at a speed of some five and a half knots, with all our studding- sails set on the port side, and all ropes neatly coiled down once more. But ere this had happened I had returned to my former post on the main- royal-yard, for I quickly discovered that the shift of helm had caused the head-sails to interpose themselves between me and the objects which it was my duty to watch, and this was to be remedied only by returning to the royal-mast-head. The skipper, in setting the new course, had displayed what commended itself to me as sound judgment. We were at such a distance from the strangers of whom we were now in chase that even our most lofty canvas was--and would, for some little time longer, remain--invisible from their decks. This was highly desirable, since the nearer we could approach them without being discovered, the better would be our chance of ultimately getting alongside them. The only likelihood of a premature discovery of our proximity lay in the possible necessity, on the part of one or the other of them, to send a hand aloft; but this we could not guard against. Captain Bentinck, therefore, hoping that _no_ such necessity would arise, had shaped a course not directly for them, but at an intercepting angle to their own course, by which means he hoped not only to hold way with them, but also to lessen very considerably the distance between them and ourselves before the sight of our canvas, rising above the horizon, would reveal our unwelcome presence to the two slavers, as we believed the strange craft to be. It was also of the utmost importance that we should have instant knowledge of their discovery of our presence in their neighbourhood, and of the action that they would thereupon take; hence the necessity for my remaining aloft to maintain a steady and careful watch upon their movements. I had been anticipating--and, indeed, hoping--that my sojourn aloft would be a lengthy one, for I knew that, so long as the strangers continued to steer their original course, it would mean that they remained in ignorance of our proximity to them. But this was not to be, for I had but regained my original position on the royal-yard some ten minutes, when, as I kept the telescope steadily fixed upon them, I saw the brig bear up and run off square before the wind. The schooner promptly followed her example, and both of them immediately proceeded to rig out studding-sail booms on both sides. "Deck ahoy!" hailed I. "The two strange sail to leeward have this instant put up their helms, and are running square off before the wind; they are also rigging out their studding-sail booms on both sides." "Thank you, Mr Grenvile," replied the skipper. "How do they bear from us now?" "About four points before the beam, sir," answered I. "Very good. Stay where you are a minute or two longer, for I am about to bear up in chase, and I want you to tell me when they are directly ahead of us," ordered the skipper. "Ay, ay, sir!" shouted I, giving the stereotyped answer to every order issued on board ship; and the next instant all was bustle and activity below me, as the helm was put up and preparations were made to set our studding-sails on the starboard side. As I glanced down on deck I saw the captain step to the binnacle, apparently watching the motion of the compass-card as the ship paid off, so I at once directed my gaze toward the strangers, and the moment they were brought in line with the fore- royal-mast-head I sang out: "Steady as you go, sir; the strangers are now dead ahead of us!" "Thank you, Mr Grenvile; you may come down now," replied the captain. And as I swung off the yard I saw the skipper and the first lieutenant, with their heads together over the binnacle, talking earnestly. Meanwhile the wind, scant as it was, seemed inclined to become more scanty still, until at length, by "six bells"--that is to say, seven o'clock--our courses were drooping motionless from the yards, the maintop-sail was wrinkling ominously, with an occasional flap to the mast as the brig hove lazily over the long low undulations of the swell--and only the light upper canvas continued to draw, the ship's speed having declined to a bare two knots, which gave us little more than mere steerage way. And loud was the grumbling, fore and aft, when, a little later, as the hands were piped to breakfast, the breeze died away altogether, and the _Shark_, being no longer under the control of her helm, proceeded to "box the compass"--that is to say, to swing first this way and then that, with the send of the swell. Our only consolation was that the strangers to leeward were in the same awkward fix as ourselves; for if we had no wind wherewith to pursue them, they, in their turn, had none wherewith to run away from us. Nobody dawdled very long over breakfast that morning; for, in the first place, the heat below was simply unbearable, and, in the next, we were all far too anxious to allow of our remaining in our berths while we knew that every conceivable expedient would be adopted by the captain to shorten the distance between us and the chase. It was my watch below from eight o'clock until noon, and I was consequently off duty; but although I had been on deck for eight hours of the twelve during the preceding night, I was much too fidgety to turn in and endeavour to get a little sleep; I therefore routed out a small pocket sextant that had been presented to me by a friend, and, making my way up into the fore- topmast cross-trees--from which the strangers could be seen--I very carefully measured with the instrument the angle subtended by the mast- head of the brig and the horizon, so that I might be able to ascertain from time to time whether or not that craft was increasing the distance between her and ourselves. I decided to measure this angle every half- hour; and, having made my first and second observations without discovering any appreciable difference between them, I employed the interval in looking about me, and watching the movements of two large sharks which were dodging off and on close alongside the ship, and which were clearly visible from my post of observation. At length, as "three bells"--half-past nine-o'clock--struck, I cast a glance all round the ship before again measuring my angle, when, away down in the south- eastern quarter, I caught a glimpse of very pale blue stretching along the horizon that elsewhere was indistinguishable owing to the glassy calm of the ocean's surface. "Deck ahoy!" shouted I; "there is a small air of wind creeping up out of the south-eastern quarter." "Thank you, Mr Grenvile," replied the captain, who was engaged in conversation with Mr Fawcett, the officer of the watch. "Is it coming along pretty fast?" he continued. I took another good long look. "No, sir," I answered; "it is little more than a cat's-paw at present, but it has the appearance of being fairly steady." "How long do you think it will be before it reaches us?" asked the second luff. "Probably half an hour, at the least, sir," I answered. I noticed Mr Fawcett say something to the skipper; and then they both looked up at the sails. The captain nodded, as though giving his assent to some proposal. The next moment the second lieutenant gave the order to range the wash-deck tubs along the deck, and to fill them. This was soon done; and while some of the hands were busy drawing water from over the side, and pouring it into the tubs, others came aloft and rigged whips at the yard-arms, by means of which water from the tubs was hoisted aloft in buckets and emptied over the sails until every inch of canvas that we could spread was thoroughly saturated with water. Thus the small interstices between the threads of the fabric were filled, and the sails enabled to retain every breath of air that might come along. By the time that this was done the first cat's-paws of the approaching breeze were playing around us, distending our lighter sails for a moment or two, and then dying away again. But light and evanescent as these cat's-paws were, they were sufficient to get the brig round with her jib-boom pointing straight for the chase once more; and a minute or two later the first of the true breeze reached us, and we began to glide slowly ahead before it, with squared yards. The men were still kept busy with the buckets, however, for, in order that the sails should be of any real service to us, it was necessary to keep them thoroughly wet, and this involved the continuous drawing and hoisting aloft of water, for the sun's rays were so intensely ardent that the water evaporated almost as rapidly as it was thrown upon the canvas. The breeze came down very slowly, and seemed very loath to freshen; but this, tantalising though it was to us, was all in our favour, for we thus practically carried the breeze down with us, while the two strange sail away in the western board remained completely becalmed. Of this latter fact I soon had most satisfactory evidence, for, without having recourse at all to my sextant, I was enabled, in that atmosphere of crystalline clearness, to see with the naked eye that we were steadily raising them, an hour's sailing having brought the bulwark rail of both craft flush with the horizon at my point of observation. By this time, however, the breeze had slid some three miles ahead of us, its margin, where it met and overran the glassy surface of the becalmed sea ahead, being very distinctly visible. At last, too, the wind was manifesting some slight tendency to freshen, for, looking aft, I saw that all our after canvas, even to the heavy mainsail which was hanging in its brails, was swelling out and drawing bravely, while the little streak of froth and foam-bells that gathered under our sharp bows, and went sliding and softly seething aft into our wake, told me that we were slipping through the water at a good honest six-knot pace. With this most welcome freshening of the wind the necessity to keep the canvas continuously wet came to an end; and the men, glad of the relief, were called down on deck to clean up the mess made by the lavish use of the water. Another half-hour passed, and the strange craft were hull-up, when the captain hailed me from the deck in the wake of the main rigging. "What is the latest news of the strangers, Mr Grenvile?" he asked. "Has the breeze yet reached them?" "No, sir; not yet," I answered; "but I expect it will in the course of the next half-hour. They are hull-up from here, sir; and I should think that you ought to be able to see the mast-heads of the larger craft--the brig--from the deck, by this time." Hearing this, the skipper and Mr Fawcett walked forward to the forecastle, the former levelling the telescope that he carried in his hand, and pointing it straight ahead. Then, removing the tube from his eye, the captain handed over the instrument to the second luff, who, in his turn, took a good long look, and returned the telescope to the captain. They stood talking together for a minute or two; and then Captain Bentinck, glancing up at me, hailed. "Mr Grenvile," said he, "I am about to send this glass up to you by means of the signal halyards. I want you to keep an eye on those two craft down there, and report anything particular that you may see going on; and let me know when the breeze reaches them, and whether they keep together when it does so." "Ay, ay, sir!" I answered. And when the telescope came up I made myself comfortable, feeling quite prepared to remain in the cross-trees for the rest of the watch. The breeze, meanwhile, continued steadily to freshen, and when at length it reached the two strange sail ahead of us we were buzzing along, with a long, easy, rolling motion over the low swell, at a speed of fully nine knots, with a school of porpoises gambolling under our bows--each of them apparently out-vying the others in the attempt to see which of them could shoot closest athwart our cut-water without being touched by it--and shoal after shoal of flying-fish sparking out from the bow surge and streaming away to port and starboard like so many handfuls of bright new silver coins flung hither and thither by Father Neptune. As the strangers caught the first of the breeze they squared away before it; but I presently saw that, instead of steering precisely parallel courses, as though they intended to continue in each other's company, they were diverging at an angle of about forty-five degrees, the brig bringing the wind about two points on her port quarter, while the schooner, steering a somewhat more northerly course, held it about two points on her starboard quarter. Thus, while they were running almost directly away from us, they were also rapidly widening the distance between each other, and it would therefore be very necessary for the skipper to make up his mind quickly which of the two craft he would pursue--for it was clear that, by this manoeuvre on their part, they had rendered it impossible for us to chase them both. I was in the act of reporting this matter to the skipper and the second lieutenant, who were walking the quarter-deck together, when Mr Fawcett--who, with the captain, had come to a halt at my hail--suddenly reeled, staggered, and fell prone upon the deck with a crash. The skipper instantly sprang to his assistance, as did young Christy, a fellow mid of mine, who was pacing fore and aft on the opposite side of the deck, and three or four men who were at work about some job in the wake of the main rigging; and between them they raised the poor fellow up and carried him below. I subsequently learned--when I eventually descended from aloft--that the surgeon had reported him to be suffering from sunstroke, which was complicated by an injury to the skull sustained by his having struck his head upon a ring-bolt in the deck as he fell. Meanwhile, during the temporary confusion that ensued on deck in consequence of this untoward incident, I employed myself in the careful measurement of the angle made by the mast-heads of the two strange sail with the now sharply defined horizon, and noting the result upon the back of an envelope which I happened to have in my jacket pocket. I had scarcely done this when the skipper hailed me, asking whether we seemed to be gaining anything upon the strangers, or whether I thought that they were running away from us. I replied that the breeze had reached them too recently to enable me to judge, but that I hoped to be in a position to let him know definitely in the course of the next half-hour. I then explained to him what I had done, and he was pleased to express his approval. Meanwhile we continued to steer a course about midway between that of the two strangers, by which means it was hoped that we should be able to keep both in sight, in readiness to haul up for that one upon which we seemed to be most decidedly gaining. The breeze still continued to freshen upon us, to such an extent that when my watch told me it was time to re-measure my angle, we were bowling along at the rate of nearly twelve knots, and the sea was beginning to rise, while our lighter studding-sail booms were buckling rather ominously. I took my angle again, and, rather to my surprise, found that we were slightly gaining upon the schooner, while the brig was fully holding her own with us, if indeed she was not doing something even better than that. I reported this to the skipper, who seemed to have made up his mind already as to his course of action; for upon hearing what I had to say he instantly gave orders for our helm to be shifted in pursuit of the schooner. Then, seeming suddenly to remember that it was my watch below, he hailed me, telling me that I might come down. Having reached the deck, I at once trotted below to make my preparation for taking the sun's meridian altitude, for it was now drawing on towards noon. When, a little later, I again went on deck, I found that the wind had continued to freshen, and was now blowing a really strong breeze, while the sea had wrinkled under the scourging of it to a most beautiful deep dark-blue tint, liberally dashed with snow-white patches of froth as the surges curled over and broke in their chase after our flying hull. Our canvas was now dragging at the spars and sheets like so many teams of cart-horses, the delicate blue shadows coming and going upon the cream- white surfaces as the ship rolled with the regularity of a swinging pendulum. Every inch of our running gear was as taut as a harp-string, and through it the wind piped and sang as though the whole ship had been one gigantic musical instrument; while over all arched the blue dome of an absolutely cloudless sky, in the very zenith of which blazed the sun with a fierceness that made all of us eager to seek out such small patches of fugitive shadow as were cast by the straining canvas. The sun was so nearly vertical that our bulwarks, although they were high, afforded us no protection whatever from his scorching rays. The two strange sail were by this time visible from our deck, and it was apparent that, in the strong breeze which was now blowing, we were rapidly overhauling the schooner, while the brig was not only holding her own with us, but had actually increased her distance, as she gradually hauled to the wind, so as to allow us to run away to leeward of her. The pursuit of the schooner lasted all through the afternoon, and it was close upon sunset when we arrived within range of her, and plumped a couple of 24-pound shot clean through her mainsail, whereupon her skipper saw fit to round-to all standing, back his topsail, and hoist Spanish colours, only to haul them down again in token of surrender. Whereupon Mr Seaton, our first lieutenant, in charge of an armed boat's crew, went away to take possession of the prize, and since I was the only person on board possessing even a passable acquaintance with the Spanish language, I was ordered to accompany him. Our prize proved to be the _Dolores_, of two hundred tons measurement, with--as we had suspected--a cargo of slaves, numbering three hundred and fifty, which she had shipped in one of the numerous creeks at the mouth of the Congo on the previous day, and with which she was bound for Rio Grande. Her crew were transferred to the _Shark_; and then--the second lieutenant being ill and quite unfit for service--I was put in command of her, with a crew of fourteen men, and instructed to make the best of my way to Sierra Leone. My crew of fourteen included Gowland, our master's mate, and young Sinclair, a first-class volunteer, as well as San Domingo, the servant of the midshipmen's mess, to act as steward, and the cook's mate. We therefore mustered only five forecastle hands to a watch, which I thought little enough for a schooner of the size of the _Dolores_; but as we hoped to reach Sierra Leone in a week at the outside, and as the schooner was unarmed, Captain Bentinck seemed to think that we ought to be able to manage fairly well. By the time that we had transferred ourselves and our traps to the prize it had fallen quite dark. The _Shark_ therefore lost no time in hauling her wind in pursuit of the strange brig, which by this time had run out of sight, and of which the skipper of the _Dolores_ professed to know nothing beyond the fact that she was French, was named the _Suzanne_, and was running a cargo of slaves across to Martinique. CHAPTER TWO. CAPTURED BY A PIRATE. When, in answer to the summons of our 24-pounders, the captain of the _Dolores_ rounded-to and laid his topsail to the mast, he did not trouble his crew to haul down the studding-sails, for he knew that his ship was as good as lost to him, and the result was that the booms snapped short off at the irons, like carrots, leaving a raffle of slatting canvas, gear, and thrashing wreckage for the prize crew to clear away. Thus, although we at once hauled-up for our port upon parting company with the _Shark_, we had nearly an hour's hard work before us in the dark ere the studding-sails were got in, the gear unrove and unbent, and the stumps of the booms cleared away, and I thought it hardly worth while to get a fresh set of booms fitted and sent aloft that night. We accordingly jogged along under plain sail until daylight, when we got the studding-sails once more upon the little hooker and tried her paces. She proved to be astonishingly fast in light, and even moderate, weather, and I felt convinced that had the wind not breezed up so strongly as it did on the previous day, the _Shark_ would never have overtaken her. During the following two days we made most excellent progress, the weather being everything that one could desire, and the water smooth enough to permit of the hatches being taken off and the unfortunate slaves brought on deck in batches of fifty at a time, for an hour each, to take air and exercise, while those remaining below were furnished with a copious supply of salt-water wherewith to wash down the slave- deck and clear away its accumulated filth. It proved to be a very fortunate circumstance that Captain Bentinck had permitted us to draw the negro San Domingo as one of our crew, for the fellow understood the language spoken by the slaves, and was able to assure them that in the course of a few days they would be restored to freedom, otherwise we should not have dared to give them access to the deck in such large parties, for they were nearly all _men_, and fine powerful fellows, who, unarmed as they _were_, could have easily taken the ship from us and heaved us all overboard. The _Dolores_ had been in our possession just forty-eight hours, and we were off Cape Three Points, though so far to the southward that no land was visible, when a sail was made out on our lee bow, close-hauled on the larboard tack, heading to the southward, the course of the _Dolores_ at the time being about north-west by west. As we closed each other we made out the stranger to be a brig, and our first impression was that she was the _Shark_, which, having either captured or lost sight of the craft of which she had been in chase, was now returning, either to her station or to look for us and convoy us into Sierra Leone; and, under this impression, we kept away a couple of points with the object of getting a somewhat nearer view of her. By sunset we had raised her to half-way down her courses, by which time I had come to the conclusion that she was a stranger; but as Gowland, the master's mate, persisted in his assertion that she was the _Shark_, we still held on as we were steering, feeling persuaded that, if she were indeed that vessel, she would be anxious to speak to us; while, if she should prove to be a stranger, no great harm would be done beyond the loss of a few hours on our part. The night fell overcast and very dark, and we lost sight of the stranger altogether. Moreover the wind breezed up so strongly that we were obliged to hand our royal and topgallant-sail and haul down our gaff- topsail, main-topmast staysail, and flying-jib; the result of the freshening breeze being that a very nasty sea soon got up and we passed a most uncomfortable night, the schooner rolling heavily and yawing wildly as the seas took her on her weather quarter. We saw no more of the stranger that night, although some of us fancied that we occasionally caught a glimpse of something looming very faint and indefinite in the darkness away to windward. Toward the end of the middle watch the weather rapidly improved, the wind dropped, and the sea went down with it, although the sky continued very overcast and the night intensely dark. By four bells in the morning watch the wind had died away almost to a calm, and with the first pallor of the coming dawn the clouds broke away, and there, about a mile on our weather quarter--that is to say, dead to windward of us-- lay the stranger of the preceding night, black and clean-cut as a paper silhouette against the cold whiteness of the eastern sky, rolling heavily, and with a number of hands aloft rigging out studding-sail booms. The brig, which was most certainly not the _Shark_, was heading directly for us, and I did not like the look of her at all, for she was as big as the sloop, if not a trifle bigger, showed nine guns of a side, and was obviously bent upon getting a nearer view of us. We lost no time in getting our studding-sails aloft on the starboard side, bracing the yards a trifle forward, and shaping a course that would give us a chance ultimately to claw out to windward of our suspicious-looking neighbour; but she would have none of it, for while we were still busy a ruddy flash leapt from her bow port, a cloud of smoke, blue in the early morning light, obscured the craft for a few seconds, and a round shot came skipping toward us across the black water, throwing up little jets of spray as it came, and finally sinking less than twenty yards away. "Well aimed, but not quite enough elevation," exclaimed I to Gowland, who had charge of the deck, and who had called me a moment before. "Now, who is the fellow, and what does he mean by firing at us? Is he a Frenchman, think you, and does he take us for a slaver--which, by the way, is not a very extraordinary mistake to make? We had better show him our bunting, I think. Parsons," to a man who was hovering close by, "bend on the ensign and run it up to the gaff-end." "There is no harm in doing that, of course," remarked Gowland; "but he is no Frenchman--or at least he is not a French cruiser; I am sure of that by the cut of his canvas. Besides, we know every French craft on the station, and Johnny Crapaud has no such beauty as that brig among them. No; if you care for my opinion, Grenvile, it is that yonder fellow is a slaver that is not too tender of conscience to indulge in a little piracy at times, when the opportunity appears favourable, as it does at present. I have heard that, in contradiction of the adage that `there is honour among thieves', there are occasionally to be found among the slavers a few that are not above attacking other slavers and stealing their slaves from them. It saves them the bother of a run in on the coast, with its attendant risk of losses by fever, and the delay, perhaps, of having to wait until a cargo comes down. Ah, I expected as much!" as another shot from the stranger pitched close to our taffrail and sent a cloud of spray flying over us. "So much for his respect for our bunting." "If the schooner were but armed I would make him respect it," I exclaimed, greatly exasperated at being obliged to submit tamely to being fired at without the power to retaliate. "But," I continued, "since we cannot fight we will run. The wind is light, and that brig must be a smart craft indeed if, in such weather as this, we cannot run away from her." The next quarter of an hour afforded us plenty of excitement, for while we were doing our best to claw out to windward of the brig she kept her jib-boom pointed straight at us, and thus, having a slight advantage of the wind, contrived to lessen the distance between us sufficiently to get us fairly within range, when she opened a brisk fire upon us from the 18-pounder on her forecastle. But, although the aim was fairly good, no very serious damage was done. A rope was cut here and there, but was immediately spliced by us; and when we had so far weathered upon our antagonist as to have brought her fairly into our wake, the advantage which we possessed in light winds over the heavier craft began to tell, and we soon drew away out of gunshot. So far, so good; but I had been hoping that as soon as our superiority in speed became manifest the brig would bear up and resume her voyage to her destination--wherever that might be. But no; whether it was that he was piqued at being beaten, or whether it was a strong vein of pertinacity in his character that dominated him, I know not, but the skipper of the strange brig hung tenaciously in our wake, notwithstanding the fact that we were now steadily drawing away from him. Perhaps he was reckoning on the possibility that the breeze might freshen sufficiently to transfer the advantage from us to himself, and believing that this might be the case, I gave instructions to take in all our studding-sails, and to brace the schooner up sharp, hoping thus to shake him off. But even this did not discourage him; for he promptly imitated our manoeuvre, although we now increased our distance from him still more rapidly than before. Meanwhile the wind was steadily growing more scant, and when I went on deck after breakfast I found that we were practically becalmed, although the small breathing, which was all that remained of the breeze, sufficed to keep the little hooker under command, and give her steerage way. The brig, however, I was glad to see, was boxing the compass some three miles astern of us, and about a point on our lee quarter. It was now roasting hot, the sky was without a single shred of cloud to break its crystalline purity, and the sun poured down his beams upon us so ardently that the black-painted rail had become heated to a degree almost sufficient to blister the hand when inadvertently laid upon it, while the pitch was boiling and bubbling out of the deck seams. The surface of the sea was like a sheet of melted glass, save where, here and there, a transient cat's-paw flecked it for a moment with small patches of delicate blue, that came and went as one looked at them. Even the flying-fish seemed to consider the weather too hot for indulgence in their usual gambols, for none of them were visible. I was therefore much surprised, upon taking a look at the brig through my glass, to see that she had lowered and was manning a couple of boats. "Why, Pringle," said I to the gunner, whose watch it was, "what does that mean? Surely they are not going to endeavour to tow the brig within gunshot of us, are they? They could never do it; for, although there is scarcely a breath of wind stirring, this little beauty is still moving through the water; and so long as she has steerage way on her we ought to be able--" "No, sir, no; no such luck as that, I'm afraid," answered the man. "May I have that glass for a moment? Thank you, sir!" He placed the telescope to his eye, adjusted it to his focus, and looked through it long and intently. "Just as I thought, Mr Grenvile," he said, handing back the instrument. "If you'll take another squint, sir, you'll see that they're getting up tackles on their yard-arms. That means--unless I'm greatly mistaken-- that they're about to hoist out their longboat; and that again means that they'll stick a gun into the eyes of her, and attack us with the boats in regular man-o'-war fashion. But they ain't alongside of us yet, and won't be for another hour and a half if the wind don't die away altogether--and, somehow, I don't fancy it's going to do that. No, what I'm most afraid of is"--and he took a long careful look round--"that in this flukey weather the brig may get a breeze first, and bring it down with her, when--ay, and there it is, sure enough! There's blue water all round her, and I can see her canvas filling to it, even with my naked eye. And there she swings her yards to it. It'll be `keep all fast with the boats' now! If that little air o' wind only sticks to her for half an hour she'll have us under her guns, safe enough!" It was as Pringle said. A light draught of air had suddenly sprung up exactly where the brig happened to lie; and by the time I had got my telescope once more focused upon her, she was again heading up for us, with her weather braces slightly checked, and quite a perceptible curl of white foam playing about her sharp bows. But it only helped her for about half a mile, and then left her completely becalmed, as before, while we were still stealing along at the rate of perhaps a knot and a quarter per hour. The skipper of the brig allowed some ten minutes or so to elapse, possibly waiting for another friendly puff of wind to come to his assistance, but, seeing no sign of any such thing, he hoisted out his longboat, lowered a small gun--to me it looked like a 6-pounder-- into her, and dispatched her, with two other boats, in chase of us. The dogged determination which animated our pursuers was clearly exemplified by their behaviour; they made no attempt to cross with a rush the stretch of water intervening between us and them, but settled down steadily to accomplish the long pull before them as rapidly as possible consistent with the husbanding of their strength for the attack when they should arrive alongside. As they pushed off from the brig she fired a gun and hoisted Brazilian colours. "The affair begins to look serious, Pringle," I said, as I directed my telescope at the boats. "There must be close upon forty men in that attacking-party, and we do not mount so much as a single gun. Now, I wonder what their plan of attack will be? Will they dash alongside and attempt to carry us by boarding, think you; or will they lie off and pound us with their gun until we haul down our colours, or sink?" "They may try both plans, sir," answered Pringle. "That is to say, they may begin by trying a few shots at us with their gun, and if they find that no good I expect they'll try what boarding will do for them. But they won't sink us; that's not their game. It's the slaves they believe we've got in the hold that they're after; so, if they bring their boat- gun into play you'll find that it'll be our top-hamper they'll aim at, so as to cripple us. They'll not hull us if they can help it." "Well, they shall not set foot upon this deck if I can help it," said I. "Pass the word for the boatswain to come aft, Pringle, if you please. He will probably be able to tell us whether there are any boarding- nettings in the ship. If there are, we will reeve and bend the tricing lines at once, and see all clear for tricing up the nets." "Ay," assented the gunner. "I think you'll be wise in so doing, sir; there's nothing like being prepared. Pass the word for the boatswain to come aft," he added, to the little group of men constituting the watch, who were busy on the forecastle. The word was passed, and presently the boatswain came along. "Boatswain," said I, "have you given the spare gear of this craft an overhaul as yet?" "Well, sir, I have, and I haven't, as you may say," answered that functionary. "I knows, in a general sort of a way, what we've got aboard of us, but I haven't examined anything in detail, so to speak. The fact is, seeing that the trip was likely to be only a short one, and we've been kept pretty busy since we joined the hooker, I've found plenty else to do." "Well, can you tell me whether there are any boarding-nettings in the ship?" I asked. "Boarding-nettings!" answered the boatswain. "Oh yes, sir; I came across what I took to be a pile of 'em down below in the sail room, yesterday." "Good!" said I. "Then let them be brought on deck at once, and see that all is ready for tricing them up, should those boats succeed in getting dangerously near to us." "Ay, ay, sir!" answered the man. And away he hurried forward to attend to the matter. Then I turned to the gunner. "Mr Pringle," said I, "have the goodness to get the arm-chest on deck, and see that the crew are armed in readiness to repel those attacking boats." "I hope it may not come to that, Mr Grenvile," said the gunner; "if it does, I'm afraid it'll be a pretty bad look-out for some of us, considerin' our numbers. But, of course, it's the only thing to do." He took a look round the horizon, directed his gaze first aloft, then over the side, and shook his head. "The sun's eating up what little air there is," he remarked gloomily, "and I reckon that another ten minutes 'll see us without steerage way." And he, too, departed to carry out his instructions. There seemed only too much reason to fear that the gunner's anticipations with regard to the wind would prove true; but while I stood near the transom, watching the steady relentless approach of the boats--which were by now almost within gunshot of us--I suddenly became aware of a gentle breeze fanning my sun-scorched features, and the slight but distinct responsive heel of the schooner to it; and in another minute we were skimming merrily away at a speed of quite five knots under the benign influence of one of those partial breezes which, on a calm day at sea, seem to spring up from nowhere in particular, last for half an hour or so, and then die away again. In the present case, however, the breeze lasted nearly two hours before it failed us, by which time we had left the brig hull-down astern of us, and had enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing the boats abandon the chase and return to their parent ship. These partial breezes are among the most exasperating phenomena which tax a sailor's patience. They are, of course, only met with on exceptionally calm days, and not always then. They consist simply of little eddies in the otherwise motionless atmosphere, and are so strictly local in their character that it is by no means uncommon to see a ship sailing briskly along under one of them, while another ship, perhaps less than a mile away, is lying helpless in the midst of a stark, breathless calm. Or two ships, a mile or two apart, may be seen sailing in diametrically opposite directions, each of them with squared yards and a fair wind. Under ordinary circumstances the fickle and evanescent character of these atmospheric eddies is of little moment; they involve a considerable amount of box-hauling of the yards, and cause a great deal of annoyance to the exasperated and perspiring seamen, very inadequately compensated by the paltry mile or so which the ship has been driven toward her destination; and their aggravating character begins and ends there. But when one ship is chasing, or being chased by, another, it is quite a different matter; for the eccentric behaviour of these same partial breezes may make all the difference between capturing a prize, and helplessly watching the chase sail away and make good her escape. Or, as was the case with ourselves, it may make precisely the difference between losing a prize and retaining possession of her. Thus we felt supremely grateful to the erratic little draught of air that swept us beyond the reach of the pursuing boats; but we piped a very different tune when, some two hours later, we beheld the brig come bowling along after us under the influence of a slashing breeze, while we lay becalmed in the midst of a sea of glass and an atmosphere so stagnant that even the vane at our mast-head drooped motionless save for the oscillation imparted to it by the heave of the schooner over the swell. We had, of course, long ere this, got the boarding-nettings up and stretched along in stops, with the tricing lines bent on, and everything ready for tricing up at a moment's notice; but, remembering the number of men that I had seen in the boats, I felt that, should the brig succeed in getting alongside, there was a tough fight before us, in which some at least of our brave fellows would lose the number of their mess; and I could not help reflecting, rather bitterly, that if the breeze were to favour us instead of the brig, a considerable loss of life would be avoided. But that the brig would get alongside us soon became perfectly evident, for she was already within a mile of us, coming along with a spanking breeze, on the starboard tack, with her yards braced slightly forward, all plain sail set, to her royals, the sheets of her jibs and stay-sails trimmed to a hair, and every thread drawing perfectly, while around us the atmosphere remained absolutely stagnant. I looked for her to open fire upon us as soon as she drew up within range; but although her guns were run out--and were doubtless loaded-- she came foaming along in grim silence; doubtless her skipper saw, as clearly as we did, that he had us now, and did not think it necessary to waste powder and shot to secure what was already within his power. His aim was, apparently, to range up alongside us on our port quarter, and when at length he had arrived within a short half-mile of us, with no sign of the smallest puff of wind coming to help us, I gave orders to trice up and secure the nettings, and then for all hands to range themselves along the port bulwarks in readiness to repel the boarders. It was now too late for us to dream of escape, for even should the breeze, that the brig was bringing down with her, reach us, we were by this time so completely under her guns that she could have unrigged us with a single well-directed broadside. Anxious though I was as to the issue of the coming tussle, I could not help admiring that brig. She was a truly beautiful craft; distinctly a bigger vessel than the _Shark_, longer, more beamy, with sides as round as an apple, and with the most perfectly moulded bows that it was possible to conceive. She was coming very nearly stem-on to us, and I could not therefore see her run, but I had no doubt that it was as perfectly shaped as were her bows, for I estimated her speed at fully eight knots, and for a vessel to travel at that rate in such a breeze she must of necessity have possessed absolute perfection of form. She was as heavily rigged as a man-o'-war, and her canvas--which was so white that it must have been woven of cotton--had evidently been cut by a master hand, for the set of it was perfect and flatter than any I had ever seen before. She was coppered to the bends, was painted black to her rails, with the exception of a broad red ribbon round her, and was pierced for eighteen guns. When she had arrived within about half a cable's-length of us she suddenly ran out of the breeze that had helped her so well, and instantly floated upright, with all her square canvas aback in the draught caused by her own speed through the stagnant atmosphere; and now we were afforded a fresh opportunity to gauge the strength of her crew, for no sooner did this happen than all her sheets and halyards were let go, and the whole of her canvas was clewed up and hauled down together, man-o'-war fashion. And thus, with her jibs and stay-sails hauled down, and her square canvas gathered close up to her yards by the buntlines and leech-lines, she swerved slightly from her previous course and headed straight for us, still sliding fast through the water with the "way" or momentum remaining to her, and just sufficient to bring her handsomely alongside. "Now stand by, lads!" I cried. "We must not only beat those fellows off, but must follow them up when they retreat to their own ship. She will be a noble prize, well worth the taking!" The men responded to my invocation with a cheer--it is one of the most difficult things in the world to restrain a British sailor's propensity to cheer when there is fighting in prospect--and as they did so the brig yawed suddenly and poured her whole starboard broadside of grape slap into us. I saw the bright flashes of the guns, and the spouting wreaths of smoke, snow-white in the dazzling sunshine, and the next instant felt a crashing blow upon my right temple that sent me reeling backward into somebody's arms, stunned into complete insensibility. My first sensation, upon the return of consciousness, was that of a splitting, sickening headache, accompanied by a most painful smarting on the right side of my forehead. I was lying prone upon the deck, and when I attempted to raise my head I found that it was in some way glued to the planking--with my own blood, as I soon afterwards discovered--so effectually that it was impossible for me to move without inflicting upon myself excruciating pain. My feeble movements, however, had evidently attracted the notice of somebody, for as I raised my hands toward my head, with some vague idea of releasing myself, I heard a voice, which I identified as that of the carpenter, murmur, in a low, cautious tone. "Don't move, Mr Grenvile; don't move, sir, for all our sakes. Hold on as you are, sir, a bit longer; for if them murderin' pirates sees that you're alive they'll either finish you off altogether or lash you up as they've done the rest of us; and then our last chance 'll be gone." "What has happened, then, Simpson?" murmured I, relaxing my efforts, as I endeavoured to collect my scattered wits. "Why," answered Chips, "that brig that chased us--you remember, Mr Grenvile?--turns out to be a regular pirate. As they ranged up alongside of us they poured in a whole broadside of grape that knocked you over, and killed five outright, woundin' six more, includin' yourself, after which of course they had no difficulty in takin' the schooner. Then they clapped lashin's on those of us that I s'pose they thought well enough to give 'em any trouble; and now they're transferrin' the poor unfortunate slaves, with the water and provisions for 'em, from our ship to their own. What they'll do after that the Lord only knows, but I expect it'll be some murderin' trick or another; they're a cut-throat-lookin' lot enough in all conscience!" Yes; I remembered everything now; the carpenter's statement aided my struggling memory and enabled me to recall all that had happened up to the moment of my being struck down by a grape-shot. But what a terrible disaster was this that had befallen us--five killed and six wounded out of our little party of fifteen! And, in addition to that, we were in the power of a band of ruthless ruffians who were quite capable of throwing the quick and the dead alike over the side when they could find time to attend to us! "Who are killed, Simpson?" I asked. "Hush, sir! better not talk any more just now," murmured the carpenter. "If these chaps got the notion into their heads that you was alive, as like as not they'd put a bullet through your skull. They'll soon be finished with their job now, and then we shall see what sort of fate they're going to serve out to us." I dared not look up nor move my head in any way, to see what was going on, but by listening I presently became aware that the last of the slaves had passed over the side, and that the pirates were now transferring the casks of water and the sacks of meal from our ship to their own, which--the water being perfectly smooth--they had lashed alongside the schooner, with a few fenders between the two hulls to prevent damage by the grinding of them together as they rose and fell upon the long scarcely perceptible undulations of the swell. About a quarter of an hour later the rumbling of the rolling water-casks and the loud scraping sound of the meal-sacks on the deck ceased; there was a pause of a minute or so, and then I heard a voice say in Spanish: "The last of the meal and the water has gone over the rail, senor capitan. Is there anything else?" "No," was the answer, in the same language; "you may all go back to the brig. And, Dominique, see all ready for sheeting home and hoisting away the moment that I join you. There is a little breeze coming, and it is high time that we were off. Now, Juan, are you ready with the auger?" "Quite ready, senor," answered another voice. "Then come below with me, and let us get this job over," said the first voice, and immediately upon this I heard the footsteps of two people descending the schooner's companion ladder. Some ten minutes later I heard the footsteps returning, and presently the two Spaniards were on deck. Then there came a slight pause, as though the pirate captain had halted to take a last look round. "Are you quite sure, Juan, that the prisoners are all securely lashed?" asked he. "Absolutely, senor," answered Juan. "I lashed them myself, and, as you are aware, I am not in the habit of bungling the job. They will all go to the bottom together, the living as well as the dead!" "Bueno!" commented the captain. "Ah, here comes the breeze! Aboard you go, Juan, amigo. Cast off, fore and aft, Dominique, and hoist away your fore-topmast staysail." Another moment and the two miscreants had gone. CHAPTER THREE. THE SINKING OF THE "DOLORES." As the sound of the hanks travelling up the brig's fore-topmast stay reached my ear I murmured cautiously to the carpenter. "Is it safe for me to move now, Chips?" "No, sir, no," he replied, in a low, strained whisper; "don't move a muscle for your life, Mr Grenvile, until I tell you, sir. The brig's still alongside, and that unhung villain of a skipper's standin' on the rail, holdin' on to a swifter, and lookin' down on our decks as though, even now, he ain't quite satisfied that his work is properly finished." At this moment I felt a faint breath of air stirring about me, and heard the small, musical lap of the tiny wavelets alongside as the new breeze arrived. The brig's canvas and our own rustled softly aloft; and the cheeping of sheaves and parrals, the rasping of hanks, the flapping of canvas, and the sound of voices aboard the pirate craft gradually receded, showing that she was drawing away from us. When, as I supposed, the brig had receded from us a distance of fully a hundred feet, the carpenter said, this time in his natural voice: "Now, Mr Grenvile, you may safely move, sir, and the sooner you do so the better, for them villains have scuttled us, and I don't doubt but what the water's pourin' into us like a sluice at this very moment. So please crawl over to me, keepin' yourself well out of sight below the rail, for I'll bet anything that there's eyes aboard that brig still watchin' of us, and cast me loose, so that I can make my way down below and plug them auger-holes without any loss of time." I at once made a move, with the intention of getting upon my hands and knees, but instantly experienced the most acute pain in my temple, due to the fact, which I now discovered, that the shot which had struck me down had torn loose a large piece of the skin of my forehead, which had become stuck fast to the deck planking by the blood which had flowed from the wound and had by this time dried. To loosen this flap of skin cost me the most exquisite pain, and when at length I had succeeded in freeing myself, and rose to my hands and knees, so violent a sensation of giddiness and nausea suddenly swept over me that I again collapsed, remaining insensible for quite ten minutes according to the carpenter's account. But even during my unconsciousness I was vaguely aware of some urgent, even vital, necessity for me to be up and doing, and this it was, I doubt not, that helped me to recover consciousness much sooner than I should have done but for the feeling to which I have alluded. Once more I rose to my hands and knees, half-blinded by the blood that started afresh from my wound, and crawled over to where the carpenter lay on the deck, in what must have been a most uncomfortable attitude, hunched up against the port bulwarks, with his wrists lashed tightly together behind his back and his heels triced up to them, so that it was absolutely impossible for him to move or help himself in the slightest degree. As I approached him the poor fellow groaned rather than spoke. "Thank God that you're able to move at last, Mr Grenvile! I was mortal afraid that 'twas all up with you when you toppled over just now. For pity's sake, sir, cut me loose as soon as you can, for these here lashin's have been drawed so tight that I've lost all feelin' in my hands and feet, while my arms and legs seems as though they was goin' to burst. What! haven't you got a knife about you, sir? I don't know what's become of mine, but some of the men'll be sure to have one, if you enquire among 'em." Hurried enquiry soon revealed the disconcerting fact that we could not muster a solitary knife among us; we had all either lost them, or had had them taken from us; there was therefore nothing for it but to heave poor Chips over on his face, and cast him adrift with my hands, which proved to be a longer and much more difficult job than I could have believed, owing, of course, to the giddiness arising from my wound, which made both my sight and my touch uncertain. But at length the last knot was loosed, the last turn of the rope cast off, and Chips was once more a free man. But when he essayed to stand, the poor fellow soon discovered that his troubles were not yet over. For his feet were so completely benumbed that he had no feeling in them, and when he attempted to rise his ankles gave way under him and let him down again upon the deck. Then, as the blood once more began to circulate through his benumbed extremities, the pricking and tingling that followed soon grew so excruciatingly painful that he fairly groaned and ground his teeth in agony. To allay the pain I chafed his arms and legs vigorously, and in the course of a few minutes he was able to crawl along the deck to the companion, and then make his way below. Meanwhile, taking the utmost care to keep my head below the level of the bulwarks, in order that my movements might not be detected by any chance watcher aboard the pirate craft, I cast loose the three unwounded men-- the carpenter being the fourth of our little band who had escaped the destructive broadside of the pirates--and bade them assist me to cast off the lashings which confined the wounded. We were still thus engaged when Simpson came up through the companion, dripping wet, glowering savagely, and muttering to himself. "Well, Chips," said I, "what is the best news from below?" "Bad, sir; pretty nigh as bad as can be," answered the carpenter. "They've scuttled us most effectually, bored eight holes through her skin, close up alongside the kelson, three of which I've managed to plug after a fashion, but by the time I had done them the water had risen so high that I found it impossible to get at t'others. I reckon that sundown will about see the last of this hooker; but by that time yonder brig 'll be pretty nigh out of sight, and we shall have a chance to get away in the boats, which, for a wonder, them murderin' thieves forgot to damage." "There is no hope, you think, of saving the schooner, if all of us who are able were to go below and lend you a hand?" said I. "No, sir; not the slightest," answered Simpson. "If I could have got below ten minutes earlier, something might have been done; but now we can do nothing." "Very well, then," said I; "let San Domingo take two of the uninjured men to assist him in getting up provisions and water, while you and the other overhaul the boats, muster their gear, and get everything ready for putting them into the water as soon as we may venture to do so without attracting the attention of the brig and tempting her to return and make an end of us." While these things were being done, the wounded men assisted each other down into the little cabin of the schooner, where I dressed their injuries and coopered them up to the best of my ability with such means as were to hand; after which, young Sinclair, whose wound was but a slight one, bathed my forehead, adjusted the strip of displaced skin where it had been torn away, and strapped it firmly in position with sticking-plaster. Meanwhile, the breeze which had sprung up so opportunely to take the brig out of our immediate neighbourhood not only lasted, but continued to freshen steadily, with the result that by the time that we had patched each other up, and were ready to undertake the mournful task of burying our slain, the wicked but beautiful craft that had inflicted such grievous injury and loss upon us had slid away over the ocean's rim, and was hull-down. By this time also the water had risen in the schooner to such a height that it was knee-deep in the cabin. We lost no time, therefore, in committing our dead comrades to their last resting-place in the deep, and then proceeded to get the boats into the water, and stock them with provisions for our voyage. Now, with regard to this same voyage, I had thus far been much too busy to give the matter more than the most cursory consideration, but the time had now arrived when it became necessary for me to decide for what point we should steer when the moment arrived for us to take to the boats. Poor Gowland was, unfortunately, one of the five who had been killed by the brig's murderous broadside of grape, and I was therefore deprived of the benefit of his advice and assistance in the choice of a port for which to steer; but I was by this time a fairly expert navigator myself, quite capable of doing without assistance if necessary. I therefore spread out a chart on the top of the skylight, and, with the help of the log-book, pricked off the position of the schooner at noon that day, from which I discovered that Cape Coast Castle was our nearest port. But to reach it with the wind in the quarter from which it was then blowing it would be necessary to put the boats on a taut bowline, with the possibility that, even then, we might fall to leeward of our port, whereas it was a fair wind for Sierra Leone. I therefore arrived at the conclusion that, taking everything into consideration, it would be my wisest plan to make for the latter port, and I accordingly determined there and then the proper course to be steered upon leaving the schooner. The _Dolores_ had by this time settled _so_ deeply in the water that it was necessary to complete our preparations for leaving her without further delay. San Domingo had contrived to get together and bring on deck a stock of provisions and fresh water that I considered would be ample for all our needs, and Simpson had routed out and stowed in the boats their masts, sails, oars, rowlocks, and, in short, everything necessary for their navigation. It now remained, therefore, only to get the craft themselves in the water, stow the provisions and our kits in them, and be off as quickly as possible. The boats of the _Dolores_ were three in number, namely, a longboat in chocks on the main hatch, a jolly-boat stowed bottom-upward in the longboat, and a very smart gig hung from davits over the stern. The longboat was a very fine, roomy, and wholesome-looking boat, big enough to accommodate all that were left of us, as well as our kits and a very fair stock of provisions; but in order to afford a little more room and comfort for the wounded men I decided to take the gig also, putting into her a sufficient quantity of provisions and water to ballast her, and placing Simpson in charge of her, with one of the unwounded and two of the most slightly-wounded men as companions, leaving six of us to man the longboat. Simpson's estimate of the time at our disposal proved to be a very close one, for the sun was within ten minutes of setting when, all our preparations having been completed, I followed the rest of our little party over the side, and, entering the longboat, gave the order to shove off and steer north-west in company. There was at this time a very pleasant little breeze blowing, of a strength just sufficient to permit the boats to carry whole canvas comfortably; the water was smooth, and the western sky was all ablaze with the red and golden glories of a glowing tropical sunset. We pulled off to a distance of about a hundred yards from the schooner; and then, as with one consent, the men laid in their oars and waited to see the last of the little hooker. Her end was manifestly very near, for she had settled to the level of her waterways, and was rolling occasionally on the long, level swell with a slow, languid movement that dipped her rail amidships almost to the point of submergence ere she righted herself with a stagger and hove her streaming wet side up toward us, all a-glitter in the ruddy light of the sunset, as she took a corresponding roll in the opposite direction; and we could hear the rush and swish of water athwart her deck as she rolled. She remained thus for some three or four minutes, each roll being heavier than the one that had preceded it, when, quite suddenly, she seemed to steady herself; then, as we watched, she slowly settled down out of sight, on a perfectly even keel, the last ray of the setting sun gleaming in fire upon her gilded main truck a moment ere the waters closed over it.--"_Sic transit_!" muttered I, as I turned my gaze away from the small patch of whirling eddies that marked the spot where the little beauty had disappeared, following up the reflection with the order: "Hoist away the canvas, lads, and shape for Sierra Leone!" Five minutes later we were speeding gaily away, with the wind over our starboard quarter and the sheets eased well off, the gig, with her finer lines and lighter freight, revealing so marked a superiority in speed over the longboat, in the light weather and smooth water with which we were just then favoured, that she was compelled to luff and shake the wind out of her sails at frequent intervals to enable us to keep pace with her. Meanwhile, the pirate brig, which, like ourselves, had gone off before the wind, had sunk below the horizon to the level of her lower yards. I had, between whiles, been keeping the craft under fairly steady observation, for what Simpson had said relative to the behaviour of her captain, and the attitude of doubt and suspicion which the latter had exhibited when leaving the _Dolores_, had impressed me with the belief that he would possibly cause a watch to be maintained upon the schooner until she should sink, with the object of assuring himself that none of us had escaped to tell the tale of his atrocious conduct. As I have already mentioned, the _Dolores_ happened to founder at the precise moment of sunset, and in those latitudes the duration of twilight is exceedingly brief. Still, following upon sunset there were a few minutes during which the light would be strong enough to enable a sharp eye on board the distant brig, especially if aided by a good glass, to detect the presence of the two boats under sail; and I was curious to see whether anything would occur on board the brig to suggest that such a discovery had been made. For a few minutes nothing happened; the brig's canvas, showing up clear-cut and purple almost to blackness against the gold and crimson western sky, revealed no variation in the direction in which she was steering; but presently, as I watched the quick fading of the glowing sunset tints, and noted how the sharp silhouette of the brig's canvas momentarily grew more hazy and indistinct, I suddenly became aware of a lengthening out of the fast- fading image, and I had just time to note, ere they merged into the quick-growing gloom, that the two masts had separated, showing that the brig had shifted her course and was now presenting a broadside view to us. That I was not alone in marking this change was evidenced a moment later when, as we drew up alongside the gig, which had been waiting for us, Simpson hailed me with the question: "Did ye notice, sir, just afore we lost sight of the brig, that he'd hauled his wind?" "Yes," said I, "I did. And I have a suspicion that he has done so because he had a hand aloft to watch for and report the sinking of the schooner; and that hand has caught sight of the boats. If my suspicion is correct, he has waited until he believed we could no longer see him, and has then hauled his wind in the hope that by making a series of short stretches to windward he will fall in with us in the course of an hour or two and be able to make an end of us. He probably waited until we had been lost sight of in the gathering darkness, and then shifted his helm, forgetful of the fact that his canvas would show up against the western sky for some few minutes after ours had vanished." "That's just my own notion, sir," answered Simpson, "I mean about his wishin' to fall in with and make an end of us. And he'll do it, too, unless we can hit upon some plan to circumvent him." "Quite so," said I. "But we must see to it that we do not again fall into his hands. And to avoid doing so I can think of nothing better than to shift our own helm and shape a course either to the northward or the southward, with the wind about two points abaft the beam; by doing which we may hope to get to leeward of the brig in about two hours from now, when we can resume our course for Sierra Leone with a reasonable prospect of running the brig out of sight before morning. And, as she was heading to the northward when we last saw her, our best plan will be to steer a southerly course. So, up helm, Simpson, and we will steer west-south-west for the next two hours, keeping a sharp look-out for the brig, meanwhile, that we may not run foul of her unawares." We had been steering our new course about an hour when it became apparent that a change of weather was brewing, though what the nature of the impending change might be it was, for the moment, somewhat difficult to guess. The appearance of the sky seemed to portend a thunderstorm, for it had rapidly become overcast with dense masses of heavy, lowering cloud, which appeared to have quite suddenly gathered from nowhere in particular, obscuring the stars, yet not wholly shutting out their light, for the forms of the cloud-masses could be made out with a very fair degree of distinctness, and it would probably also have been possible to distinguish a ship at the distance of a mile. It was the presence of this light in the atmosphere, emanating apparently from the clouds themselves, that caused me rather to doubt the correctness of the opinion, pretty freely expressed by the men, that what was brewing was nothing more serious than an ordinary thunderstorm, for I had witnessed something of the same kind before, on the coast, but in a much more marked degree, it is true; and in that case the appearance had been followed by a tornado, brief in duration, but of great violence while it lasted. I therefore felt distinctly anxious, the more so as it was evident that the wind was dropping, and this I regarded as a somewhat unfavourable sign. I hailed Simpson, and asked him what he thought of the weather. "Why, sir," replied he, "the wind's droppin', worse luck; and if it should happen to die away altogether, or even to soften down much more, we shall have to out oars and pull; for we must get out of sight of that brig somehow, between this and to-morrow morning." "Undoubtedly," said I. "But that is not precisely what I mean. What is worrying me just now is the question whether there is anything worse than thunder behind the rather peculiar appearance of the sky." He directed his glance aloft, attentively studying the aspect of the heavens for a few moments. "It's a bit difficult to say, sir," he replied at last. "Up to now I've been thinkin' that it only meant thunder and, perhaps, heavy rain; but, now that you comes to mention it, I don't feel so very sure that there ain't wind along with it, too--perhaps one of these here tornaders. And if that's what's brewin' we shall have to stand by, and keep our weather eye liftin'; for a tornader'd be an uncommon awk'ard customer to meet with in these here open boats." "You are right there," said I, "and for that reason it is especially desirable that the boats should keep together for mutual support and assistance, if need be. You have the heels of us in such light weather as the present, and might very easily slip away from and lose sight of us in the darkness; therefore I think that, for the present at all events, in order to avoid any such possibility, you had better take the end of our painter and make it fast to your stern ring-bolt. Then you can go ahead as fast as you please, without any risk of the boats losing sight of each other." This was done, and for the next two hours the boats slid along in company, the gig leading and towing the longboat, although of course the towing did not amount to much, since we in the longboat kept our sails set to help as much as possible. It was by this time close upon three bells in the first watch, and notwithstanding the softening of the wind I came to the conclusion that we must have slipped past the brig, assuming our suspicion, that she had hauled her wind in chase of us, to be correct. I therefore ordered our helm to be shifted once more, and our course to be resumed in a north- westerly direction. Half an hour later the wind had dropped to a flat calm, and Simpson suggested that, as a measure of precaution, in view of the possibility that the brig might still be to the westward of us, we should get out the oars and endeavour to slip past her. But I had for some time past been very anxiously watching the weather, and had at length arrived at the conclusion that, if not an actual tornado, there was at least a very heavy and dangerous squall brewing away down there in the eastern quarter, before which, when it burst, not only we, but also the brig, would be obliged to run; and, since she would run faster than the boats, it was no longer desirable, but very much the reverse, that we should lie to the westward of her. I therefore decided to keep all fast with the oars for the present, and employ such time as might be left to us upon the task of preparing the boats, as far as possible, for the ordeal to which it seemed probable that they were about to be subjected. I was far less anxious about the safety of the longboat than I was about that of the gig, which, being a more lightly built and much smaller craft, and excellent in every way for service in fine weather and smooth water, yet was not adapted for work at sea except under favourable conditions; and in the event of it coming on to blow hard I feared that in the resulting heavy sea she would almost inevitably be swamped. I therefore turned my attention to her in the first instance, causing her to be brought alongside the longboat and her painter to be made fast to the ring-bolt in the stern of the latter, thus reversing the original arrangement; my intention being that, in the event of bad weather, the longboat should tow the gig. This done, I caused Simpson to unstep the gig's single mast and lay it fore and aft in the boat, with the heel resting upon and firmly lashed to the small grating which covered the after end of the boat between the backboard of the stern-sheets and the stern-post, while the head was supported by a crutch formed of two stretchers lashed together and placed upright upon the bow thwart, the whole being firmly secured in place by the two shrouds attached to the mast-head. Thus arranged, the mast formed a sort of ridge pole which sloped slightly upward from the boat's stern toward the bow. The lugsail was then unbent from the yard, stretched across the mast, fore and aft--thus forming a sort of tent over the open boat for about two- thirds of her length from the stern-post,--and the luff and after-leach of the sail were then strained tightly down to the planking of the boat outside, by short lengths of ratline led underneath the gig's keel. The result was that, when the job was finished, the gig was almost completely covered in by the tautly stretched sail, which I hoped would not only afford a considerable amount of protection to her crew, but would also keep out the breaking seas that would otherwise be almost certain to swamp her. So pleased was I with the job, when it was finished, that I determined to attempt something similar in the case of the longboat. This craft was rigged with two masts, carrying upon the foremast a large standing lug and a jib, and a small lug upon the jigger-mast. These latter, that is to say the jigger-mast and the small lug, we stretched over the stern-sheets of the longboat in the same way as we had dealt with the gig, leading the yoke lines forward on top of the sail, so that the steering arrangements might not be interfered with. And finally, we close-reefed the big lug and took in the jib, when we were as ready for the expected outfly as it was possible for people in such circumstances to be. That something more than a mere thunderstorm was impending there could now be no possible doubt. The strange light of which I have spoken, and which had seemed to emanate from the clouds, had now vanished, giving place to a darkness so profound that it seemed to oppress us like some material substance; and the silence was as profound and oppressive as the darkness--so profound, indeed, was it that any accidental sound which happened to break in upon it, such as the occasional lap of the water against the boat's planking, the scuffling movement of a man, or the intermittent flap of the sail as the longboat stirred upon a wandering ridge of slow-moving swell, smote upon the ear with an exaggerated distinctness that was positively startling to an almost painful degree. I accounted for this, at the time, by attributing it in part to the peculiar electrical condition of the atmosphere, and partly to the fact that we had all been wrought up to a condition of high nervous tension by the conviction that something--we did not quite know what--was impending, for which we were all anxiously on the watch, and that, in the Cimmerian darkness which enveloped us, we were obliged to depend for adequate warning, upon our hearing alone, which caused us to resent and be impatient of all extraneous sounds. That this was to some extent the case was evidenced by the fact that, our preparations finished, we had, as with one consent, subsided into silence, which was broken only in a low whisper if anyone felt it necessary to speak. Suddenly, as we all sat waiting for the outburst of the threatened storm, a long-drawn, piercing cry pealed out across the water, apparently from a spot at no very great distance from us. It was, although not very loud, the most appalling, soul-harrowing sound that had ever smote upon my ears, and a violent shudder of horror thrilled me from head to foot, while I felt the hair bristling upon my scalp as I listened to it. Three times in rapid succession did that dreadful, heart-shaking cry come wailing to our ears, and then all was silence again for perhaps half a minute, when the men about me began to ask, in low, tense whispers, whence it came, and from what creature. To me, I must confess, the sounds seemed to be such as might burst from the lips of a fellow-creature in the very uttermost extremity of mortal terror. But that could scarcely be, for how could mortal man have approached us within a distance of some two hundred yards in that breathless calm, unless, indeed, in a boat--of which there had certainly been no sign in any direction half an hour before. And if one were disposed for a moment to admit such a possibility, whence could a boat come? The pirate brig had been the only craft in sight when darkness fell, and it was scarcely within the bounds of probability that anything then out of sight beneath the horizon could have drawn so near to us during the succeeding hours of darkness. Or again, admitting such a possibility, what dreadful happening could have wrung from human lips such blood- curdling sounds? We were all eagerly discussing the matter, some of the men agreeing with me that the sounds were human, while others stoutly maintained that they were supernatural, and boded some terrible disaster to the boats, when our discussion was abruptly broken in upon by the sound of rippling water near at hand, as though a craft of some kind were bearing down upon us at a speed sufficient to raise a brisk surge under her bows, and the next instant the voice of San Domingo pealed out in piercing tones, eloquent of the direst terror: "Oh, look dere eberybody! Wha' dat?" And with a howl like that of a wild beast he rose to his feet and made a frantic dash aft for the stern-sheets, fighting his way past the other men, and trampling over the unfortunate wounded in the bottom of the boat, quite beside himself with fright. And indeed there was some excuse for the negro's extraordinary behaviour; for, intense as was the darkness that enveloped us, the water was faintly phosphorescent, and we were thus enabled to discern indistinctly that, less than a hundred yards distant from us, a huge creature, which, to our excited imaginations, appeared to be between two and three hundred feet long, had risen to the surface and was now slowly swimming in a direction that would carry it across the bows of the longboat at a distance of some fifty feet. I frankly confess that for a moment I felt petrified with horror, for the creature was streaming with faintly luminous phosphorescence, and thus, despite the darkness, it was possible to see that it was certainly not a whale, or any other known denizen of the deep, for it had a head shaped somewhat like that of an alligator--but considerably larger than that of any alligator I had ever seen--attached to a very long and somewhat slender neck, which it carried stretched straight out before it at an angle of some thirty degrees with the surface of the water, and which it continually twisted this way and that, as though peering about in search of something. Suddenly it paused, lifted its head high, and looked straight toward the boats, and at the same moment a whiff of air came toward us heavily charged with a most disgusting and nauseating odour, about equally suggestive of musk and the charnel-house. Its eyes, distinctly luminous, and apparently about two feet apart, were directed straight toward the longboat, and the next instant it began to move toward us, again stretching out its neck. Instinctively I sprang to my feet and whipped a pistol out of my belt, cocking it as I did so. "Out pistols, men, and give it a volley!" I cried; and the next instant a somewhat confused pistol discharge shattered the breathless silence of the night. My own fire I had withheld, waiting to see what would be the effect of the men's fire upon the monster. Whether any of them had hit it or not I could not tell, but beyond causing the creature to pause for an instant, as though startled by the flashing of fire, the volley seemed to have had no effect, for the horrid thing continued to approach the boat, while the disgusting odour which it emitted grew almost overpowering. It must have been within ten feet of the boat when I aimed straight at its left eye, and pulled the trigger of my pistol. For an instant the bright flash dazzled me so that I could see nothing, but I distinctly heard the "phitt" of the bullet, felt a hot puff of the sickening stench strike me full in the face, and became aware of a tremendous swirl and disturbance of the water as the huge creature plunged beneath the surface and was gone. CHAPTER FOUR. THE BOATS IN A TORNADO. We had scarcely begun to settle down again, and regain the control of our nerves after this distinctly startling adventure, when the dense canopy of black cloud overhead was rent asunder by a flash of lightning, steel-blue, keen, and dazzlingly vivid, that seemed to strike the water within a dozen fathoms of us, while simultaneously we were deafened by a crackling crash of thunder of such appalling loudness and violence that one might have been excused for believing that the very foundations of the earth had been riven asunder. So tremendous was the concussion of it that I quite distinctly felt the longboat quiver and tremble under its influence. And the next instant down came the rain in a regular tropical, torrential downpour, causing the sea to hiss as though each individual drop of rain were red-hot, and starting us to work at once in both boats with the balers, to save our provisions from being ruined. I happened to be looking away in a westerly direction when the flash came, and despite its dazzling vividness I caught a momentary glimpse of the pirate brig in that direction, and not more than a mile distant from us. None of the others in the boats appeared to have seen her, for no one said a word; and I only hoped that no eye on board her had happened to be turned toward us at the moment, or they could not have failed to see us; and she was altogether too near for my liking. I said nothing, for it seemed unnecessary to disturb the men by informing them of her whereabouts; and I comforted myself with the reflection that when the squall should come--as come it now must in a very few minutes,--she, like ourselves, would be compelled to scud before it; and as she would run two feet to our one, she would soon run us out of sight. We had not long to wait. After the deluge of rain had lasted some three minutes it ceased as abruptly as it had begun, and for the space of perhaps half a minute there was no sound to be heard save the trickling and dripping of water from the drenched sails of the boats. Then, far away to the eastward there gradually arose a low moaning, and a sudden fierce puff of hot air struck us for an instant, filling the sails of the longboat with a loud flap and leaving them hanging motionless again. "Here it comes, lads," cried I. "Out with your starboard oars, and get the boat's head round. That will do. Lay them in again; and one hand tend the mainsheet here aft." The moaning sound rapidly grew in intensity until it became first a deep roar, like the bellowing of a thousand angry bulls, and finally a deafening shriek, while away to the eastward a long line of white, foaming water became visible, rushing down toward us with incredible rapidity. The next instant the squall struck us, and the white water boiled up high over the sterns of the boats, burying us so deeply that for a moment I thought it was all over with us, and that, despite our precautions, we must inevitably be swamped. But the good canvas of which the longboat's sails were made fortunately withstood the strain, as also did the stout hemp rigging which supported the mast, and as the furious blast swooped down upon us we gathered way and were the next moment flying to the westward before the hurricane, our bows buried deeply in the boiling surge. And now we had good reason to congratulate ourselves upon the fact that we in the longboat had taken the gig in tow, for the strain of the smaller boat kept the longboat's stern down, and in a great measure counteracted the leverage of the mast which tended to depress and bury our bows, but for which I feel convinced that the longboat, stout craft though she was, would have been driven under by the tremendous force of the wind and swamped by an inrush of water over the bows. The outfly was accompanied by a furious storm of thunder and lightning, the illumination of which was most welcome to us, for it enabled us to see where we were going, and incidentally revealed to us our enemy, the pirate brig, scudding away to leeward under a goose-winged fore-topsail, and with her topgallant-masts struck. We now had reason to congratulate ourselves upon the foresight which had suggested to us the idea of partially covering in the boats with their sails as a protection against the inroads of the sea; for within ten minutes of the outburst not only was the air full of flying sheets of spindrift and scud-water that, but for the precaution referred to, would have kept us busily baling, but in addition to this a short, steep, tumultuous sea was rapidly rising, which at frequent intervals rose above the boats' gunwales, and would have pooped us dangerously had the boats been left in their ordinary unprotected condition. As it was, beyond a pint or so of water that occasionally made its way inboard despite all our precautions, and needed to be baled out again, we had no trouble. The first fury of the squall lasted about a quarter of an hour. During that time the thunder and lightning were incessant, but afterwards they gradually died away, while the wind moderated to a steady gale; and it was by the illumination of the last flash of lightning that we caught sight of the brig hove-to on the starboard tack, under a storm-staysail, with her head to the northward. The sight of her thus was a great relief to me, for it seemed to indicate that we had been fortunate enough to escape detection, and that we need have no great fear of interference from her, since the fact of her having hove-to so early indicated a keen desire on the part of her captain to remain as near as possible to the coast. As the night wore on the sea rapidly became higher and more dangerous, our difficulties and embarrassments increasing in proportion. Our chief difficulty arose from the necessity to keep the gig in tow, for with the rising of the sea this speedily became more dangerous to both boats, from the frequent fierce tugs of the painter that connected the two boats together. The rope was a new and stout one, and there was not much fear that the boats would break away from each other, but the strain set up by the alternate slackening and tautening of the painter, as first one boat and then the other was urged forward by the 'scend of the sea, was tremendous, and strained both craft to a positively dangerous degree. Yet it was not possible for us to cast the gig adrift, for, had we done so, we should at once have run away from and lost her in the darkness; that is, unless she had set her own sails, and this, of course, could not have been done without depriving her of the protection of them as a covering against the breaking seas, which would have resulted in her being instantly swamped. But at length matters became so serious with us both that it was evident that something must be done, and that very quickly too; for some of the drags were so violent that they threatened to tear the stern out of the longboat, which was by this time leaking badly. After considering the matter, therefore, most carefully, I decided upon a course of procedure that I hoped might better our condition somewhat. It happened that among the stores which we had hurriedly stowed away in the longboat when preparing to leave the schooner was a drum of lamp oil, which we intended to use in our binnacle lamps at night, and which we thought might perhaps also prove very useful for other purposes as well, and this I now ordered the men to find for me. Fortunately it was easy to get at it, and it was soon produced. It was a full can, and had never been opened; therefore I gave instructions that, instead of drawing the bung, it should be punctured with a sufficient number of holes to allow the oil to ooze through pretty freely. This done, I instructed the men to clear away the longboat's painter and to bend it securely round the boat's oars in such a manner as to make a sort of sea-anchor of them, leaving about a fathom of the end of the painter clear to which to bend on the oil-can. Then, when everything was ready, I shouted to Simpson in the gig, telling him what I proposed to do, and giving him his instructions, after which we in the longboat hauled down the jib, and, watching our opportunity, rounded-to, threw overboard our sea-anchor, with the oil- can attached, and took in our remaining canvas. This business of rounding-to was a very delicate and ticklish job, for had the sea caught us broadside-on we must inevitably have been capsized or swamped; but we were fortunate enough to do everything at precisely the right moment, with the result that the two boats swung round, head-on to the sea, without accident, and without shipping very much water. The oars, lashed together in the middle, and kept squarely athwartships by means of a span, afforded, after all, only the merest apology for a sea-anchor, and barely gave just sufficient drag to keep the boats stem- on to the sea without appreciably retarding their drift to leeward; but it was none the worse for this, since, with their drift scarcely retarded, they rode all the more easily; and presently, when the oil began to exude from the can and diffuse itself over the surface of the water, there was a narrow space just ahead of us where the seas ceased to break, with the result that in the course of ten minutes we were riding quite dry and comfortable, except for the scud-water that came driving along. This, however, we soon remedied by converting our mainsail into a kind of roof, strained over the lowered mast, similar to the arrangement in the gig, after which, save for the extravagant leaps and plunges of the boats, which were very trying to the wounded, we had not much to complain of. The gale reached its height about four o'clock on the following morning, at which hour it was blowing very hard, with an exceedingly heavy and dangerous sea, in which the boats could not possibly have lived but for the precautions which had been taken for their preservation; and even as it was, we repeatedly escaped disaster only by the merest hair's- breadth, and by what seemed to be more a combination of fortuitous circumstances than anything else. Taken altogether, that night was one of the most tense and long-drawn-out anxieties that I had ever, up to then, experienced. About two bells in the morning watch the gale broke, and from that moment the strength of the wind moderated so rapidly that by eight bells all danger had passed, the boats were riding dry, and we were able to get breakfast in peace and comfort--all the greater, perhaps, from the fact that when day dawned the pirate brig was nowhere to be seen. By nine-o'clock the wind and sea had both moderated sufficiently to enable us to resume our voyage. I therefore, with some difficulty, secured an observation of the sun for the determination of our longitude, and we then proceeded to re-bend our sails, step the masts, and get under way, steering to the northward and westward under double-reefed canvas. Finally, about noon, we were able to shake out our reefs and proceed under whole canvas, the sea by that time having almost completely gone down, leaving no trace of the previous night's gale beyond a long and very heavy swell, in the hollows of which the two boats continually lost sight of each other. But although, by the mercy of Providence, we had weathered the gale, we had not by any means escaped scathless, for when we had once more settled down and had found opportunity to overhaul our stock of provisions, it was found that, despite our utmost precautions, an alarmingly large proportion of them had become damaged by rain and sea water, to such an extent, indeed, that about half of them had been rendered quite unfit for use, and we therefore threw that portion overboard, since there was obviously no advantage in wasting valuable space in the preservation of useless stores. And I did this the more readily, perhaps, because I calculated that, despite this heavy loss, we should still have enough left to carry us to our destination--provided that we were not detained by calms on the way. We made excellent progress all that day, our reckoning showing that at three o'clock that afternoon we had traversed a distance of just forty miles since getting under way that morning, which distance was increased to fifty-eight by sunset. Moreover we had done well in another way, for the wounded had all been carefully looked after, and their hurts attended to as thoroughly as circumstances would allow, with the result that at nightfall each man reported himself as feeling distinctly better, notwithstanding the night of terrible hardship and exposure through which all had so recently passed. The sunset that evening was clear, promising a fine night, while the wind held steady and fair. We were consequently all in high spirits at the prospect of a quick and pleasant passage to Sierra Leone. But as the night advanced a bank of heavy cloud gradually gathered on the horizon to the northward, and the wind began to back round and freshen somewhat, so that about midnight it again became necessary to double- reef our canvas, while the sea once more rose to such an extent that the boats were soon shipping an unpleasant quantity of water over the weather bow. Moreover the wind continued to back until we were broken off a couple of points from our course; so that, altogether, it finally began to look very much as though we were in for another unpleasant night, though perhaps not quite so bad as the one that had preceded it. It is true that we were not just then in any actual danger, for, after all, the strength of the wind was no more than that to which the _Shark_ would show single-reefed topsails. But it was more than enough for us, under the canvas which we were carrying, and I had just given the order to haul down a third reef when one of the men who was engaged upon the task of shortening sail suddenly paused in his work and gazed out intently to windward under the sharp of his hand. The next moment he shouted excitedly: "Sail ho! two points on the weather bow. D'ye see her, sir? There she is. Ah, now I've lost her again; but you'll see her, sir, when we lifts on the top of the next sea. There--now do you see her, sir, just under that patch of black cloud?" "Ay, ay, I see her," I answered; for as the man spoke I caught sight of a small dark blur, which I knew must be a ship of some sort, showing indistinctly against the somewhat lighter background of cloud behind her. She was about two miles away, and was steering a course that would carry her across our bows at a distance of about a quarter of a mile if we all held on as we were going; and for a moment I wondered whether it was our enemy the pirate brig again putting in an appearance. But an instant's reflection sufficed to dissipate this idea, for, according to all the probabilities, the pirates ought by this time to be well on toward a hundred miles to the eastward of us, while the stranger was coming down, with squared yards, from the northward. "We must contrive to attract the attention of that craft and get her to pick us up," I cried. "Have we anything in the boat from which we can make a flare?" A hurried search was rewarded by the production of a piece of old tarpaulin that we were using as a cover and protection to our stock of provisions; and a long strip of this was hurriedly torn off, liberally sprinkled with the oil that still remained in the drum, twisted tightly up, and ignited. The flame sputtered a bit at first, probably from the fact that sea water had penetrated to the interior of the drum and mingled to a certain extent with the oil; but presently our improvised flare burst into a bright ruddy flame, which lighted up the hulls and sails of the boats and was reflected in broad red splashes of colour from the tumbling seas that came sweeping steadily down upon us. All eyes were now eagerly directed toward the approaching ship, of which, however, we entirely lost sight in the dazzling glare of our torch. But when, after blazing fiercely for about a couple of minutes, until it was consumed, our flare went out and left us once more in darkness, there was no answering signal from the stranger, which was coming down fast before the steadily strengthening breeze. "Make another one, lads, and light it as quickly as you can," I cried. "We must not let her slip past us. Our lives may depend upon our ability to attract her attention and get her to pick us up. But what is the matter with them aboard there that they have not seen us? Their look-outs must be fast asleep." "She's a trader of some sort, sir; that's what's the matter with her," answered one of the men. "If she was a man-o'-war, or a slaver, there'd be a better look-out kept aboard of her. If I had my way them chaps what's supposed to be keepin' a look-out should get six dozen at the gangway to-morrer mornin'." "Hurry up with that flare, lads," I exhorted. "Be as quick with it as you like." "Ay, ay, sir! we shall be ready now in the twinklin' of a purser's lantern," answered the man who was preparing the torch. "Now, Tom, where's that there binnacle lamp again? Shield it from the wind with your cap, man, so's it don't get blowed out while I sets fire to this here flare." The man was still fumbling with the flare when the stranger, which was now about half a mile distant, suddenly exhibited a lantern over her bows, which her people continued to show until we had lighted our second flare, when the lantern at once disappeared. A couple of minutes later she was near enough for us to be able to make her out as a full-rigged ship of some seven hundred tons; and presently she swept grandly across our bows, at a distance of about a cable's-length, and, putting her helm down, came to the wind, with her main-topsail to the mast, finally coming to rest within biscuit-toss of us to windward. As she did so we became aware of a man standing on her poop, just abaft the mizzen rigging, and the next moment a hail through a speaking- trumpet came pealing across the water. "Ho, the boats ahoy! What boats are those?" "We are the boats of the slaver _Dolores_, captured by the British sloop-of-war _Shark_, and subsequently attacked and destroyed by a pirate," replied I. "We have been in the boats nearly thirty hours, and several of our people are wounded. We hoped to make our way to Sierra Leone, but narrowly escaped being swamped in a gale last night. I presume you will have no objection to receive us?" The ship being apparently British, I naturally expected to receive an immediate and cordial invitation to go on board; but, to my intense surprise, and growing indignation, there ensued a period of silence as though the man who had hailed us was considering the matter. I was just about to hail again when the individual seemed to arrive at a decision; for he hailed: "All right; bring your boats alongside." We accordingly dowsed the sails, threw out our oars, and pulled alongside. As we approached the lee gangway, which had been thrown open to receive us, and about which some half a dozen men were clustered, with lighted lanterns, the man who had hailed us before enquired: "Will your wounded be able to come up the side; or shall I reeve a whip with a boatswain's-chair for them?" "Thanks," I replied, "I think we may be able to manage, if your people will lend us a hand." "How many do you muster?" asked the stranger, presumably the master of the vessel. "Ten, all told," I answered, "of whom six are more or less hurt. We were fifteen to start with, but five were killed by the fire of the pirate." "I'm afraid you've had a bad time, takin' it all round," said our interlocutor. "Stand by, chaps, to lend the poor fellers a hand up over the side." "What ship is this?" I asked, when at length I went up the side and found myself confronted by a very ordinary-looking individual, attired in a suit of thin, rusty-looking blue serge, with a peaked cap of the same material on his head, who extended his hand in cordial welcome to me. "The _Indian Queen_, of and from London to Bombay, twenty-three days out, with passengers and general cargo," he answered. "Well," said I, "I am exceedingly obliged to you for receiving us; for, to tell you the truth, after the experiences of last night, I am very glad to find a good, wholesome ship once more under my feet. Open boats are all very well in their way, but they are rather ticklish craft in which to face such a gale as we had last night." "By the by," he said, "are those boats of yours worth hoisting in?" "Yes," I said, "they are both very good boats, and it would be a pity to send them adrift if you can find room for them." "Oh, I dare say we can do that," he answered. "Besides, the skipper might have a word or two to say about it if we was to turn 'em adrift. By the way, Mr--er--" "Grenvile," I prompted, continuing--"I must apologise for not having sooner introduced myself. I am senior midshipman of the _Shark_, and was prize-master of the slaver _Dolores_, which I had instructions to take into Sierra Leone." "Just so; thank'e," answered the man. "I was going to say, Mr Grenvile, that--well, our skipper's a very queer-tempered sort of a man--he was second mate when we left home--and as like as not he may kick up a row about my receivin' you aboard--indeed it wouldn't very greatly surprise me if he was to order you all over the side again; so I thought I'd just better give ye a hint, so as you may know what to expect, and how to act." "Indeed, I am very much obliged to you for your timely warning, Mr ---" said I. "Carter's my name--Henry Carter," was the reply. "I'm actin' as chief mate now, but I was third when we left London." "I understand," said I. "But this captain of yours--he is an Englishman, I presume, and I cannot understand the possibility of his raising any objection to your receiving a party of distressed fellow- countrymen aboard his ship. And how comes he to be in command, now, if he was only second when you left home?" "Well, sir, it's like this," answered Carter, starting to explain. Then he interrupted himself suddenly, saying: "Excuse me, sir; I see that the hands are about to sway away upon the tackles and hoist in the boats. I'll just give an eye to them, if you don't mind, and see that they don't make a mess of the job." With the assistance of the _Shark's_ people the boats were soon got inboard and stowed, after which my boats' crews were bestowed in the forecastle and the steerage, there happening by good luck to be just sufficient vacant berths in the latter to accommodate the wounded. This matter having been attended to, the mate remarked to me: "There's a vacant cabin in the cuddy; but the stewards are all turned in, and it would take 'em some time to clear it out and get it ready for you; so perhaps you might be able to make do with a shakedown on the cabin sofa for to-night; or there's my cabin, which you're very welcome to, if you like, and I'll take my watch below on a sofa." "Thank you very much for your exceedingly kind offer," said I, "but I couldn't think of dispossessing you of your own cabin, even for a single night. The sofa will serve my turn admirably, especially as I had no sleep last night, and not much during the night before. But, before I go below, I should like to hear how it comes about that the man who was second mate of this ship when she left England is now master of her. To bring about such a state of affairs as that you must have lost both your original skipper and your chief mate." "Yes," answered Carter, "that's exactly what's happened. We've had what the newspapers would call a couple of tragedies aboard here. First of all, the skipper--who looked as strong and healthy a man as you'd meet with in a day's march--was found dead in his bed, on the morning of the fifth day out; and, next, the chief mate--who of course took command, and was supposed to be a total abstainer--was found missin', as you may say, when the steward went to call him, one morning--he'd only been in command four days, poor chap; and the mate--that's our present skipper, Cap'n Williams--gave it out that he must have committed suicide, while in liquor, by jumpin' out of the stern window--which was found to be wide-open, on the mornin' when poor Mr Mowbray was reported missing." "Very extraordinary," commented I, stifling a prodigious yawn. "And now, Mr Carter, with your kind permission I will go below and lie down, for I feel pretty well tired out." "Ay, that I'll be bound you do," agreed Carter. "This way, Mr Grenvile, and look out for the coamin'--it's a bit extra high." And, so saying, he led the way into a very handsome saloon under the ship's full poop. The craft was not a regular Indiaman--that is to say, she was not one of the Honourable East India Company's ships,--but, for all that, she was a very handsome and comfortable vessel, and her cuddy was most luxuriously fitted up with crimson velvet sofas, capacious revolving armchairs screwed to the deck alongside the tables, a very fine piano, with a quantity of loose music on the top of it, some very handsome pictures in heavy gold frames screwed to the ship's side between the ports, a magnificent hanging lamp suspended from the centre of the skylight, with a number of smaller lamps, hung in gimbals, over the pictures, a handsome fireplace, with a wide tiled hearth, now filled with pots of plants, a capacious sideboard against the fore bulkhead, a handsome carpet on the deck, and, in fact, everything that could be thought of, within reason, to render a long sea voyage comfortable and pleasant. The saloon occupied the full width of the ship, the sleeping cabins being below. With pardonable pride Carter turned up the flame of the swinging lamp-- which was the only lamp burning at that hour of the night--to give me a glimpse of all this magnificence. I quite expected that, having, as it were, done the honours of the ship, Carter would now turn down the lamp and leave me to myself; but he still lingered in an uncertain sort of way, as though he would like to say something, but did not quite know how to begin; so at length, to relieve his embarrassment, I said: "What is it, Mr Carter? I feel sure you want to tell me something." "Well," said he, "it's a fact that I have got something on my mind that I'd like to get off it; and yet I dare say you'll think there's nothing in it when I tells you. The fact is, our present skipper's a very curious sort of chap, as I expect you'll find out for yourself afore many hours has gone over your head. Now, I want you to understand, Mr--er--Grenvile, that I'm not sayin' this because he and I don't happen to get on very well together--which is a fact; I'm not jealous of him, or of his position, because I couldn't fill it if 'twas offered to me--I'm not a good enough navigator for that,--but I think it's only right I should tell you that, as like as not, he'll not only blow me up sky-high for pickin' you and your men up, when he finds out that you're aboard, but, maybe--well, I dunno whether he'll go quite so far as that, but he may refuse to let you stay aboard, and order you to take to your boats again. Now, if he should--I don't say he will, mind you, but if he should do any such thing, take my advice, and don't go. I don't know how he may be to-morrow. If he kept sober after he turned in he'll be all right, I don't doubt; but if he took a bottle to bed with him--as he's lately got into the habit of doin'--the chances are that he'll turn out as savage as a bear with a sore head; and then everybody, fore and aft--passengers and all--will have to stand by and look out for squalls!" "Thanks, Mr Carter, very much, for mentioning this," I said. "You gave me a pretty broad hint as to what I might expect, out there on deck, just now, and you may rest assured that I shall not forget it. And you may also rest assured that, should he so far forget what is due to humanity as to order me to leave the ship, I will flatly decline to go." "Of course, sir, of course you will, and quite right too," commented Carter. "But I'm glad to hear ye say so, all the same. It'll be a great comfort to me--and to the passengers too--to feel that we've got a naval officer aboard, if things should happen to go at all crooked. And now, Mr Grenvile, havin' said my say, I'll wish ye good-night, and hope you'll be able to get a good sound sleep between this and morning." And therewith Carter at length took himself off. But before he was fairly out on deck I was stretched at full length on the sofa, fast asleep. CHAPTER FIVE. SOME STRANGE HAPPENINGS. I was awakened by the entrance of the stewards, who, at six bells on the following morning, came into the saloon to brush and dust up generally, and lay the tables for nine-o'clock breakfast. The head steward apologised for waking me, and informed me that there was no need for me to disturb myself, also that Carter had informed him of my presence, and commended me to his care. But I had slept like a log, and felt thoroughly refreshed; I therefore went out on deck, and betook myself forward to the eyes of the ship, where I stripped and indulged in the luxury of a shower-bath under the head-pump. It was a most glorious morning, the sun was shining brilliantly, with a keen bite in his rays already, although he was but an hour high; and there was a strong breeze blowing from the northward, under the influence of which the ship was reeling off her ten knots, under a main topgallant-sail. But I was greatly surprised to see that, instead of steering south, we were heading in for the coast, on a south-westerly course. I made some remark upon this to Carter, who again had the watch, to which he replied: "Well, you see, sir, it's a fancy of the skipper's. He's got some sort of a theory that, by hugging the coast close, and takin' advantage of the sea and land breezes, as they blows night and mornin', we shall do rather better than we should by thrashin' to wind'ard against the south- east trade. I don't know whether there's anything in it myself, but it's the first time that I've ever heard of the notion. But there he is--and in a blazin' bad temper, too, by the looks of him! Shall I take you aft and introjuce you to him?" "Certainly," said I. "If we are to have any unpleasantness, let us have it at once, and get it over." There was, however, to be no unpleasantness--just then, at all events-- except in so far as poor Carter was concerned; for when he and I went aft to where Captain Williams--a tall, powerful-looking, and rather handsome man in a barbaric sort of way, with a pair of piercing black eyes, and an abundant crop of black, curly hair, with beard and moustache to match--was standing on the quarter-deck, just outside the entrance of the saloon, the captain stepped forward, and, extending his hand, bade me welcome to his ship with every sign of the utmost friendliness. But he gave poor Carter a terrific wigging for not having called him when the boats were first sighted, and for receiving us on board without first consulting him. "For how could you know, Mr Carter," he said, "that the boats were not full of pirates? Less unlikely things than that have happened, let me tell you; and when you come to know this coast as well as I know it, you will be rather more chary of receiving a couple of boats' crews professing to be distressed seamen." "Oh," said I, "as to that, Mr Carter took pretty good care to satisfy himself as to our _bona fides_ before permitting us to come alongside! At all events he made sure that we were British, and I think there are very few Britons who take kindly to piracy." "Perhaps not, sir, perhaps not; at least I hope that, for the credit of our countrymen, you are right," answered the skipper. "At the same time there are many foreigners who speak English well enough to answer a hail, and I want to impress upon Mr Carter the fact that it was his duty to call me, under the peculiar circumstances, and to allow me to decide as to the advisability of admitting two boat-loads of strangers aboard my ship. Please don't do it again, sir." Whereupon poor Carter promised to be more circumspect in future, and slunk away with very much the aspect and manner of a beaten dog. I felt very sorry for the man, for, even admitting that the skipper was right-- as he certainly was--I thought it would have been in very much better taste if he had taken an opportunity to point out to his subordinate, in private, the imprudence of which he had been guilty, instead of administering a reprimand in the presence of a stranger. Apart from that it appeared to me that there was not very much wrong with the man, and the question arose in my mind whether, despite the protest that Carter had thought it necessary to address to me, he might not be to some extent prejudiced against his skipper. And this feeling was somewhat strengthened when, as, in compliance with Captain Williams's request, I gave him an account of our recent adventures, he informed me that the ship carried a doctor, and at once sent a messenger to that functionary, informing him that some wounded men had been taken on board during the night, and requesting him to give them his best attention forthwith. As the skipper and I stood talking together, the passengers, who had learned from the stewards that we had been picked up during the night, came hurrying up on deck, one after another, full of curiosity to see the individuals who had joined the ship under such interesting circumstances; and I was duly introduced to them. To take them in what appeared to be the recognised order of their social importance, they were, first, General Sir Thomas Baker, his wife, Lady Hetty Baker, and his rather elderly daughter, Phoebe, returning to India from furlough; Mrs Euphemia Jennings, the young wife of an important official, who had just left her only boy--a lad of five years of age--with friends in England, for his health's sake, and with her a niece of her husband--a Miss Flora Duncan, a most lovely girl of about sixteen. Then came Mr and Mrs Richard Morton, people of some means, who were going to India to try their fortune at indigo planting, under the auspices of a friend and former schoolfellow of the husband, and who had sent home glowing accounts of the great things that might be done in that way by a man of energy with a reasonable amount of capital; and with them went their three children, Frank, Mary, and Susie, aged respectively eleven, eight, and six years. And finally, there were Messrs. Fielder, Acutt, Boyne, Pearson, and Taylor--five young men ranging from seventeen to twenty-one years of age, who were going out to take up appointments in the Company's service. All these people were very kind and nice to me, but I could not help being secretly amused at the fiery energy with which the general denounced what he characterised as "the criminal carelessness" of Captain Bentinck in turning me adrift in an unarmed schooner with a crew of only fourteen hands. "By Jove, sir, I call it little short of murder," he shouted. "The idea of asking you--ay, and expecting you--to take a fully-loaded slaver into port with only fourteen men to back you up, and no guns! The man ought to be ashamed of himself! But it is just like you navy fellows; you are constantly asking one another to do things which seem impossible!" "Yes, sir," I said demurely, "and not infrequently we do them." "Do them!" he exploded. "Yes, I will do you the credit to admit that you never know when you are beaten; and that, I suppose, is why the blue-jackets so often succeed in performing the apparently impossible. But that in no way weakens my contention that your captain was guilty of a piece of most culpable negligence in sending you away without furnishing you with a battery of guns with which to defend yourself and your ship!" Fortunately, at this moment the breakfast bell rang, and, the general and his wife leading the way, we all trooped into the saloon and seated ourselves at the elegantly furnished and bountifully provided breakfast tables. During the progress of the meal I of course had a further opportunity to observe the behaviour of the skipper, and when I rose from the table I was obliged to confess to myself that I was puzzled, for I had been quite unable to arrive at any distinct impression of the character of the man. For while, on the one hand, his manner to me was cordial, with the somewhat rough and unpolished geniality of a man of a coarse and violent temperament striving to conquer his natural disposition and render himself agreeable, I could find no fault with the arrangements he proposed to make for my own comfort and that of my men. And his expressions of sympathy with us in our misfortunes were everything that could be wished for; but, somehow, they did not ring true. Thus, when in the course of the conversation--which, as was very natural under the circumstances, rather persistently dwelt upon my little party and our adventures--Captain Williams chose to express his gratification at having fallen in with us and rescued us from a distinctly perilous situation, while his words were as kind and sympathetic as could have been desired, the expression of his countenance seemed to say, almost as plainly as words could speak: "I devoutly wish that you had all gone to the bottom, rather than come aboard my ship!" And I continually found myself mentally asking the question: "Which am I to believe--this man's words, or the expression of his eyes? Is he sincere in what he says, and is he the unfortunate possessor of an expression that habitually gives the lie to his words; or is he, for some sinister purpose of his own, endeavouring to produce a false impression upon us all?" It was quite impossible to find a satisfactory reply to these questions, yet I found a certain amount of guidance in the manner of the passengers toward him; I noticed that every one of them, with the exception of the general, seemed to quail beneath his gaze, and shrink from him. As for the general, despite his somewhat boisterous manner, he was a gentleman, a soldier, and evidently a man who knew not what fear was, and it appeared to me that he was distinctly distrustful of Captain Williams. At length, by patiently watching, I succeeded in finding an opportunity to divert the conversation from myself and my party; I saw the skipper glance upward toward the tell-tale compass that hung in the skylight, and as his gaze fell again it encountered my own. Instantly a most malignant and ferocious expression swept into his eyes. Undeterred by that, however, I composedly remarked: "I see, Captain, you are heading in toward the coast; and Mr Carter informs me that you propose to test practically a rather interesting theory that you have formed as to the advantages of the alternate land and sea breezes over those of the regular trades." "Yes," he growled, "I do. But Mr Carter has no business to discuss my plans or intentions with anybody. I have warned him more than once to keep a silent tongue in his head; but the man is a fool, and will get himself into very serious trouble some day if he doesn't keep his weather eye lifting!" "Well," I said, "you must not blame him in this case, for the fault--if fault there has been--was mine. I observed the alteration in the ship's course as soon as I stepped out on deck this morning, and remarked upon it, and it was merely in reply to my remark that Mr Carter explained your intentions." "Well," he answered, "it is a rather fortunate thing for you that I happen to have such intentions, for it affords you a chance to get transhipped into one of your own craft, instead of having to go on with us to Capetown, as you would almost certainly have been obliged to do if I had followed the usual plan and stretched away over toward the South American coast." "Quite so," I agreed; "it certainly has that advantage, as occurred to me the moment that Mr Carter explained your theory. And it has the further advantage that, should you find you do not make quite such good progress as you hope, you will be well to windward when you eventually decide to stretch offshore into the trade wind." "Then you think my idea has something in it?" he demanded. "Something--yes," I agreed; "but I doubt very much whether, taking everything into consideration, you will find that the advantages are worth consideration." The skipper did not agree with me, and forthwith plunged into a fiery defence of his theory which lasted until some time after we had all risen from the table and adjourned to the poop. In fact, he so completely monopolised my attention up to tiffin time that I was scarcely able to find time to go forward and enquire into the condition of the wounded, and had no opportunity at all to improve my acquaintance with the passengers. After tiffin, however, the captain retired to his cabin, instead of going on deck again, and as I stepped out of the saloon on to the quarter-deck I felt a hand slide into my arm, and, turning round, found the general alongside me. "Am I right," said he, as he linked his arm in mine, "in the impression that you do not think very highly of Captain Williams's rather peculiar theory concerning the advantage of `keeping the coast aboard'--as I believe you sailors term it--rather than following the usual rule of making the most of the south-east trade wind? You are pretty well acquainted with this coast, I suppose, and your ideas on the subject should be of value." "Well," said I, "the fact is, Sir Thomas, that I do not think very highly of the captain's theory. In theory, no doubt, the idea appears somewhat attractive, but in actual practice I should be inclined to say that the uncertainty of the weather close inshore will probably be found to tell against it. If the sea breeze could be absolutely depended upon to blow every day and all day long, and the land breeze to blow every night and all night long, there would undoubtedly be something in it. But my experience is that these phenomena are not to be depended upon. It often happens that when, according to all the rules, either the sea or the land breeze should be piping up strongly, there is an absolute, persistent calm. Nevertheless, from a purely personal point of view, I am glad that the skipper intends to test his theory, because it will afford me the opportunity to shift myself and my party into one of the ships of the slave-squadron, some one of which we are pretty certain to fall in with before long." "Ah!" remarked the general, with a curious indrawing of his breath. "I was rather afraid that such might be the case." He paused for a few seconds, and then, taking a fresh grip of my arm, continued: "Do you know, my young friend, I am rather hoping that we shall not fall in with any of the ships of the slave-squadron, and that consequently you and your men will be obliged to go on with us at least as far as Capetown. It is, perhaps, a bit selfish of me to entertain such a wish, but I do, nevertheless." "Indeed!" said I. "May I ask why, general?" "Of course you may, my dear boy," he answered. "It is a very natural question. Well, the fact is that certain very curious happenings have taken place on board this ship since she sailed out of the Thames." And he proceeded to repeat to me the story that Carter had already told me as to the disappearance of the original captain and his successor. "Now," he continued, "Captain Matthews's death may have been a perfectly natural one. I don't say that it was not, but up to the hour of his death he looked strong and healthy enough to have lived out the full term of his life. Moreover, he was a most temperate man in every respect. I have, therefore, found it very difficult indeed to discover a satisfactory explanation of his very sudden demise. And, between you and me, although Burgess, the ship's surgeon, has never said as much in words, I firmly believe that the occurrence puzzled him as much as it did me; indeed, his very reticence over the affair only strengthens my suspicion that such is the case. But, puzzling as were the circumstances connected with Captain Matthews's death, I consider that those associated with the death of Mr Mowbray, who took command of the ship in place of Captain Matthews, were at least equally so. Mr Mowbray was a man of some thirty-five years of age, very quiet, unassuming, and gentlemanly of manner; a married man with, as I have understood, a small family to provide for, and consequently very anxious to rise in his profession; ambitious, in his quiet, unassuming way, and evidently a thoroughly steady and reliable man, for I understand that he had served under Captain Matthews for several years. No one of us ever saw him touch wine, spirits, or drink of any description; yet only four days after he had attained to what we may consider the summit of his ambition, by securing the command of this fine ship, he was missing. Williams, our present skipper, offers us the exceedingly improbable explanation that the poor fellow jumped out of his cabin window, and was drowned, while intoxicated. I do not believe it for a moment, nor do any of the rest of us. For my own part I very strongly suspect foul play somewhere, and the very extraordinary explanation which Williams offers of the occurrence only strengthens my suspicion that--well, not to put too fine a point upon it, that he knows more of the matter than a perfectly honest man ought to know. And, in addition to all this, Williams is a secret drunkard, and a man of most violent and ungovernable temper, as you will see for yourself ere long. You will therefore not be very greatly surprised to learn that since he took the command there has been a great deal of uneasiness as well as unpleasantness in the cuddy; and I, for one, am rejoiced to find a naval officer and a party of man-o'-war seamen on board. For I know that after what I have said you will keep your eyes and ears open, and will not hesitate to interfere if you see good and sufficient reason for so doing. You navy fellows have a trick of cutting in where you consider it necessary without pausing to weigh too nicely the strict legality of your proceedings. And if perchance you occasionally step an inch or two beyond the strict limits of the law, you are generally able to justify yourselves." "What you have just told me, general," said I, "was also told me briefly by Carter last night, and he, too, seemed to consider it necessary to warn me that the skipper is a somewhat peculiar man. Naturally, after such a warning, I have been keeping my eyes and ears open, and I confess that I find the man something of a puzzle. Carter quite led me to anticipate the possibility that Williams might order us down the side into our boats again, instead of which, so far as words, and even deeds, are concerned, I have not the least fault to find. But all the time that he was saying kind things to me this morning, his eyes and the expression of his face belied him." "Aha! so you noticed that, did you?" observed the general. "Yes, it is quite true; you have very precisely expressed what we have all noticed at one time or another. His eyes belie the words of his lips very often, that is to say when he chooses to be civil, which is not always. When I saw him this morning I quite believed we were in for a particularly unpleasant day, for he had all the appearance of a man in a very bad temper, but for some reason he has seen fit to behave himself to-day. But never fear, you will soon have an opportunity to see what he is like when he chooses to let himself go. His behaviour is then that of a madman, and I am sometimes inclined to believe that he really is mad. But suppose that he should do as Carter suggests he may, and order you and your men to quit the ship, will you go?" "Most certainly not," said I. "I will only leave this ship when I can transfer myself and my men to some other by means of which I can speedily rejoin my own ship." "That's right, that's quite right, my boy," approved the general. "Well, I am glad that I have had this little talk with you, for it has eased my mind and put you on the alert. And now, come up on the poop, and make yourself agreeable to the ladies; they will not thank me for monopolising so much of your time and attention." I took the hint, and followed him up to the poop, where the whole of the cuddy passengers were assembled, the ladies occupied with books, or needlework, or playing with the children, while the men lounged in basket chairs, smoking, reading, or chatting, or danced attendance upon the ladies. I first paid my respects to Lady Baker and her daughter, as in duty bound, and then drifted gradually round from one to another until I finally came to an anchor between Mrs Jennings and her niece, Miss Duncan. But I observed that in every case, whatever the topic might be upon which I started a conversation, the talk gradually drifted round to the subject of the skipper and his peculiarities, from which I arrived at the conclusion that, after all, Carter and the general must have had some grounds for the apprehensions that they had expressed to me. Now, of our party of ten who had been received on board the _Indian Queen_, six of us were wounded, and of those six three were so severely hurt as to be quite unfit for duty, and the other three, of whom I was one, were able to do such deck duty as keeping a look-out, taking a trick at the wheel, and so on, but, excepting myself, were scarcely fit to go aloft just yet. But I did not think it right or desirable that those of us who were in a fit state to work should eat the bread of idleness. I had therefore seized the opportunity afforded by my talk with the skipper that morning to suggest that my four unwounded and two slightly-wounded men should assist in the working of the ship; as for myself, I said that I should be very pleased to take charge of one of the watches, if such an arrangement would be of any assistance to him. This, of course, was quite the right and proper thing for me to do, and although the ship carried a complement of thirty hands, all told, I was not in the least surprised that Williams should accept, quite as a matter of course, my offer of the men, three of whom he placed in the port watch, and three in the starboard, the latter being under the boatswain, a big, bullying, brow-beating fellow named Tonkin. But he declined the offer of my personal services, saying that he could do quite well without them. This arrangement having been come to, I made it my business to speak to the boatswain, into whose watch the two slightly-wounded men had been put, informing him of what had passed between the skipper and myself, and requesting him not to send the wounded men aloft, as I did not consider that they could safely venture into the rigging in their partially disabled condition. And I also cautioned the men not to attempt to go aloft, should the boatswain happen to forget what I had told him, and order them to do so, taking care to give them this caution in Tonkin's presence and hearing in order that there might be no mistake or misunderstanding. I was therefore very much surprised, and considerably annoyed, when, as we were all gathered together on the poop that same evening, during the first dogwatch, I heard the sounds of a violent altercation proceeding on the fore-deck, and, on looking round, discovered that the disputants were one of my own men and the boatswain, the latter of whom was threatening the other with a rope's-end. Without waiting to hear or see more I instantly dashed down the poop-ladder and ran forward, pushing my way through a little crowd who had gathered round the chief actors of the scene; and as I did so I became suddenly conscious of the fact that the men among whom I was forcing my way were a distinctly ruffianly, ill-conditioned lot, who seemed more than half disposed to resent actively my sudden appearance among them. "Now then, Martin," I said sharply, "what is all this disturbance about, and why is the boatswain threatening you with that rope's-end?" "Why, sir," answered Martin, who was suffering from a grape-shot wound in the leg, "I understood you to say this morning as none of us as is wounded is to go aloft; yet here's this here bo's'un swears as he'll make me go up and take the turn out o' that fore-to'gallan' clew, instead of sendin' one of his own people up to do it. I couldn't climb the riggin' without bustin' this here wound of mine open again--" "Of course not," I answered. "I thought I had made it clear to you, Tonkin," turning to the boatswain, "that I do not wish any of my wounded men to be sent aloft. That man is in no fit condition to go up on to the topsail-yard." "Ain't he?" retorted the boatswain in a very offensive manner. "While he's in my watch I'm goin' to be the judge of what he's fit to do, and what he's not fit to do; and I say he's quite fit to do the job that I've ordered him to do. And he's goin' to do it too, or I'll know the reason why. And, what's more, I won't have no brass-bound young whipper-snappers comin' for'ard here to interfere with me and tell me what I'm to do and what I'm not to do; and I hope that's speakin' plain enough for to be understood, Mr Midshipman What's-your-name. Now then," he continued, turning to Martin again, "will you obey my orders, or must I make yer?" And he took a fresh grip upon the rope's-end with which he was threatening the man. "Drop that rope's-end at once, you scoundrel!" I exclaimed angrily; for I saw by the man's manner, and by the approving sniggers of the men who surrounded us, that he had been deliberately and intentionally insulting to me, and that unless I took a firm stand at once the ship would speedily become untenable to my men and myself. "You must surely be drunk, Tonkin, or you would never dream of--" "Drunk am I?" he exclaimed savagely, wheeling suddenly round upon me. "I'll soon show you whether I'm drunk or not," and he raised the rope's- end with the manifest intention of striking me across the face with it. But before the blow could fall there was a sudden rush of feet; the sniggering loafers who hemmed us in were knocked right and left like so many ninepins, and, with a cry of "Take that, you dirty blackguard, as a lesson not to lift your filthy paws again against a king's officer," Simpson, our carpenter's mate, an immensely strong fellow, dashed in and caught the boatswain a terrific blow square on the chin, felling him to the deck, where he lay senseless, and bleeding profusely at the mouth. "Put that man in irons!" bellowed a furious voice behind me; and, turning round, I beheld the skipper glaring like an infuriated animal past me at the carpenter's mate, who was standing with clenched fists across the prostrate body of the boatswain. "For what reason, pray, Captain Williams?" demanded I indignantly. "I do not know how long you have been here, for I did not hear you approach, but unless you have but this instant come upon the scene you must be fully aware that it was your boatswain who started this disgraceful brawl. His behaviour was absolutely brutal, and--" I got no further; for while I was still speaking the villain suddenly seized me round the waist, and, being much more powerful than myself, pinned my arms close to my sides. "Here," he exclaimed to one of his own people standing by, "just lash this young bantam's arms behind him, and seize him to the rail, while I attend to the other." And before I well knew where I was I found myself securely trussed up, and saw Simpson, Martin, and another of my men, fighting like lions at bay, finally overborne by numbers and beaten senseless to the deck. "You will be very sorry for this outrage before you are many days older, Captain Williams," I said as the fellow presently came and planted himself square in front of me. "Shall I, indeed?" he sneered, thrusting his hands deep in his trousers pockets, and balancing himself on the heaving deck with his legs wide apart. "What makes you think so?" "Because I will report your conduct to the captain of the first man-o'- war that we fall in with on the coast, and you will be called upon to give an account of yourself and your behaviour." "And supposing that we don't happen to fall in with any of your precious men-o'-war, what then?" he demanded. "Why," said I, "it will merely mean that your punishment will be deferred a few days longer until we arrive at Capetown; that is all." "Ah!" he retorted, drawing in his breath sharply. "But supposing you should happen to go overboard quietly some dark night--" "Like poor Mowbray, for instance," I cut in. "Mowbray," he hissed, turning deathly white. "Mowbray! Who has been talking to you about Mowbray? Tell me, and I'll cut his lying tongue out of his mouth!" "Brave words," I said, "very brave words, but they would not frighten the individual who told me the history of poor Mr Mowbray's mysterious disappearance through the stern window." "Tell me who it was, and what he said?" he demanded hoarsely. "No," I answered him. "I will reserve that story for other ears than yours." "Very well," he said. "Then I promise you that you shall not live to tell that story." And turning to one of the men who were standing by, he said: "Cast this young cockerel loose, take him down to his cabin, lock him in, and bring the key to me." And two minutes later I found myself below in a very comfortable cabin that had been cleared out and prepared for me, locked in, and with no company but my own rather disagreeable thoughts. CHAPTER SIX. STRANDED! What were Williams's ultimate intentions toward me I found it quite impossible to guess, for, beyond the fact that he kept me carefully locked up in the cabin that he had assigned to me, I suffered no further violence at his hands, a steward bringing me an ample supply of food when the meal hours came round. I tried to ascertain from this fellow how my men were faring in the forecastle; but my attempt to question him caused him so much distress and terror that, at his earnest request, I forebore to press my enquiries. And as soon as the man had taken away the empty plates and dishes that had contained my dinner, I stretched myself out on the very inviting-looking bed that had been made up in the bunk, and, being exceedingly tired, soon fell asleep. I slept all night, and did not awake until the steward entered next morning with my breakfast. I rather expected that, after a night's calm consideration of his exploit, Williams would have come to the conclusion that discretion was the better part of valour, and would have taken some steps toward the patching up of a truce; but he did not, and I spent the whole of that day also locked up in the cabin, and seeing no soul but the steward who brought my meals to me. It was somewhat late that night when I turned in, as I had slept well all through the previous night and did not feel tired; and even when I had bestowed myself for the night I did not get to sleep for some time, for I felt that we must by this time be drawing close in to the coast; and supposing we should fall in with a man-o'-war, how was I to communicate with her if this man was going to keep me cooped up down below? True, I might succeed in attracting the attention of those on board such a ship by waving my handkerchief out of my cabin port if we happened to pass her closely enough for such a signal to be seen, and if she happened also to be on the starboard side, which was the side on which my berth was situated; but I was very strongly of opinion that, after what had happened, Williams would take especial care to give an exceedingly wide berth to any men-o'-war that he might happen to sight. At length, however, I fell into a somewhat restless sleep, from which I was awakened some time later by sounds of confusion on deck--the shouting of orders, the trampling of feet, the violent casting of ropes upon the deck, the flapping of loose canvas in the wind, the creaking of yards, and the various other sounds that usually follow upon the happening of anything amiss on board a ship; and at the same time I became conscious of something unusual in the "feel" of the ship. For a moment I was puzzled to decide what it was; but by the time that I had jumped out of my berth and was broad awake I knew what had happened. The ship was ashore! Yet she must have taken the ground very easily, for I had been conscious of no shock; and even as I stood there I was unable to detect the least motion of the hull. She was as firmly fixed, apparently, and as steady, as though she had been lying in a dry dock. I went to the side and put my face to the open porthole. I saw that the night was clear, and that the sky overhead was brilliant with stars; and by twisting myself in such a way as to get a raking view forward I fancied I could see in the distance something having the appearance of a low, tree-clad shore. I also heard the heavy thunder of distant surf; but alongside the ship the water was quite still and silent, save for a soft, seething sound as of water gently swelling and receding upon a sheltered beach. I seated myself upon the sofa locker, and strove to recall mentally the features of the several rivers that we had visited, but could fit none of them to the dimly-seen surroundings that were visible from the port out of which I had looked. The one thing which was certain was that we were in perfectly smooth water, and the entire absence of shock with which the ship had taken the ground was an indication that she was certainly in no immediate danger; but beyond that the situation was puzzling in the extreme. The snug and sheltered position of the ship pointed strongly to the assumption that we had blundered into some river in the darkness; yet when I again looked out through the port the little that I was able to see was suggestive of beach rather than river, and that we were not very far from a beach was evidenced by the loud, unbroken roar of the surf. Then there was the puzzling question: How did we get where we were? What were the look-outs doing? What was everybody doing that no one saw the land or heard the roar of the surf in time to avoid running the ship ashore? As I continued to stare abstractedly out through the port it struck me that the various objects within sight were growing more clearly visible, and presently I felt convinced that the dawn was approaching. And at the same moment I became aware that a broad dark shadow that lay some fifty yards from the ship's starboard side, and which had been puzzling me greatly, was a sandbank of very considerable extent, so considerable, indeed, that, for the moment, I could not make out where it terminated. Meanwhile the hubbub on deck gradually ceased, and I surmised that the canvas had been taken in. The transition from the first pallor of dawn to full daylight is very rapid in those low latitudes, and within ten minutes of the first faint heralding of day a level shaft of sunlight shot athwart the scene, which became in a moment transfigured, and all that had before been vague and illusory stood frankly revealed to the eye. The sandbank now showed as an isolated patch about two hundred yards wide and perhaps half a mile long, with what looked like a by-wash channel of about one hundred yards wide flowing between it and the mainland, the latter being a sandy beach backed by sand dunes clothed with a rank creeper-like vegetation, and a few stunted tree tops showing behind them. As the ship then lay with her head pointing toward the south-east, I was able, with some effort, to get a glimpse of a mile or two of the shore; and now that daylight had come I could see the surf breaking heavily all along it, and also upon the seaward side of the sandbank upon which we appeared to have grounded. Feeling quite reassured as to the safety of the ship, I sat down on the sofa locker and endeavoured, by recalling the courses steered and the distances run since we had been picked up, to identify the particular spot on the coast where we now were. But it was no use; my memory of the charts was not clear enough, and I had to give up the task. But I felt convinced that we were somewhere in the Gulf of Guinea. As I sat there on the locker, thinking matters over, and wondering what would be the outcome of this adventure, I became so absorbed in my own thoughts that I gradually lost all consciousness of my surroundings, and was only brought back to myself by the sounds of a sudden commotion on deck, loud outcries--in which I thought I recognised the voice of the skipper,--a great and violent stamping of feet, and finally an irregular popping of pistols, followed by a sudden subsidence of the disturbance. This, in turn, was followed by sounds of excitement in the cabins on either side of the one which I occupied, and in the distance I could hear the general shouting at the top of his voice. I gathered that the passengers were only now beginning to realise that something was wrong with the ship, and were turning out and dressing hastily. A few minutes later I heard the sounds of cabin doors being flung open, and hurried footsteps went speeding past my cabin toward the companion way which led up to the main-deck. Then the general's voice breezed up again, from the saloon above, in tones of angry remonstrance, followed by a tremendous amount of excited talk, amid which I thought I once or twice caught the sounds of women's sobs. It was evident that something very much out of the common had happened, and I came to the conclusion that it was high time for me to be at large again and taking a hand in the proceedings; I therefore whipped out my pocketknife, and without further ado proceeded to withdraw the screws that fastened the lock to the door. Five minutes later I found myself in the main saloon, and the centre of an excited and somewhat terrified group of passengers. "Ah!" exclaimed the general, as I made my appearance. "Now, perhaps, we shall get at something practical. Here is young Grenvile, who, being a navy man, may be supposed to know how to deal with an awkward situation. Here is a pretty kettle of fish, sir," he continued, turning to me. "The ship is ashore! The captain has blown his brains out--so they say! And, last but not least, the crew, headed by the boatswain, has mutinied against the authority of Mr Carter--whom they have thrust in here among us--and absolutely refuse to listen to reason in any shape or form! Now I ask you, as an officer in his Most Gracious Majesty's navy, what is to be done, sir; what are the proper steps to be taken to extricate ourselves from this infernal predicament?" "The first thing, general," said I, "is to let me hear Carter's story, which will probably give me a fairly accurate idea of the precise situation of affairs. Where is he?" "Here I am, Mr Grenvile," replied the man himself, edging his way toward me through the crowd. "Now," said I, "please tell us precisely what you know about this very extraordinary affair." "Well, sir," was the answer, "I really don't know so very much about it, when all's told; but I'm not very greatly surprised. The way that things have been going aboard this ship, ever since poor Cap'n Matthews died, has been enough to prepare a man for anything, mutiny included. I had the middle watch last night, and, as you know--or perhaps you don't know--it was very overcast and dark all through the watch, so it's not very surprisin' that I saw nothing of the land, even if it was in sight--which I doubt, seein' that it's low--and Cap'n Williams, who ought to have known that we was drawin' in close upon the coast, never gave me any warning of the ship's position, or said anything about keepin' an extra good look-out, or anything of that sort. Consequently, when the bo's'un relieved me at four o'clock this mornin', I didn't pass on any particular caution to him. As a matter of fact I hadn't a notion that we were anywhere near the land! Consequently, when the commotion of haulin' down and clewin' up awoke me, and when, upon rushin' out on deck to see what was the matter, I found that the ship was ashore, I was regularly flabbergasted! But I hadn't much time for surprise, or anything else either, for the skipper was on deck and in charge; and I must confess that the cool way in which he took everything made me think that he wasn't nearly so surprised at what had happened as by rights he ought to have been. "Well, we hauled down, clewed up, and furled everything, by which time the daylight had come, and we were able to get a view of our whereabouts. So far as I could make out we seemed to have blundered slap into the mouth of some river, and to have grounded on the inner side of a big sandbank that had formed right athwart it at a distance of about a quarter of a mile to seaward of the general trend of the shore line. We couldn't have managed better if we'd picked the berth for ourselves; for we're lyin' in perfectly smooth water, completely sheltered from the run of the surf; and nothin' short of a stiff on- shore gale would be at all likely to hurt us. "The skipper said something about lightening the ship, and ordered the bo's'un to clear away the boats and see all ready for hoistin' 'em out, and directed me to go down into the fore-peak and rouse out all the hawsers I could find down there, and send 'em up on deck. I was busy upon this job, with half a dozen hands to help me, when suddenly we heard a terrific rumpus on deck, and the sounds of pistol firing; and when I jumped up on deck to see what all the row was about, there was that villain Tonkin, with a pistol still smokin' in his hand, talkin' to the men and tellin' 'em that as the ship was ashore, and the cap'n gone, all hands were free to please themselves as to whether they'd stick to the hooker or not, and that, for his part, he meant to have a spell ashore for a day or two before decidin' what next to do. "Just at that point I interrupted him by askin' what he meant by sayin' that the cap'n was `gone'; to which he replied that the skipper had shot himself and then jumped overboard--which I don't believe, Mr Grenvile, not for a moment, for if I'm not very greatly mistaken I saw the scoundrel wink at the men as he told me the yarn. And he added that, that bein' the case, every man aboard was his own master, and free to do as he pleased; and if I had anything to say against that, I'd better say it then. "And I did say it; I told him and all hands that, as to everybody now bein' his own master, that was all nonsense; for if the skipper was indeed dead--and it would be my business to find out just exactly how he died--the command of the ship devolved upon me, and I intended to take all the necessary steps to get her afloat again and to carry her to her destination. I thought that that would settle it; but it didn't, by a long chalk, for Tonkin turned to the men and says:-- "`Look here, shipmates all, I for one have had quite enough choppin' and changin' about of skippers in this hooker,' he says; `and,' says he, `so far as I'm concerned I don't want no more. I've nothin' to say again' Carter there, but I'm not goin' to acknowledge him as skipper of this packet, and I don't fancy as how any of you will, either. Of course,' he says, `if there's any of you as is anxious to have him for skipper, and wants to go heavin' out cargo and runnin' away kedges, and what not, under his orders, instead of goin' ashore with me into them woods, huntin' for fruit, he's quite at liberty to do so, I won't say him nay; but you may as well make up your minds now as any other time whether you'll stick to him or to me; so now what d'ye say, shipmates--who's for Carter, and who's for Tonkin?' "And I'll be shot, Mr Grenvile, if every mother's son of 'em didn't declare, right off, without hesitatin', for him! Whereupon he ordered me in here, and told me not to dare to show my nose out on deck again until I had his permission, or he'd have me hove over the rail. And I was to tell the passengers that they might go up on the poop if they liked; but that if e'er a one of 'em put his foot on the main-deck he'd be hove overboard without any palaver. Now, what d'ye think of that, sir, for a mess?" "Have any of them been drinking, think you?" asked I. "Well, yes, sir, I think they have," answered Carter. "That is to say, I think that most of 'em have been pretty well primed--just enough, you know, to make 'em reckless. But there was none of 'em what you'd call drunk; not by a long way." "And were any of my men among them?" I asked. "Oh no!" was the answer. "Your men--but I forgot--you don't know what's happened to them. The whole lot of 'em, sound and sick alike, are locked up in the steerage--Simpson, Martin, and Beardmore bein' in irons." "And what about the steerage passengers?" I asked. "Where are they?" "Why," answered Carter, "there are only five of them, all told. Two of them--Hales and Cruickshank--both of whom are thoroughly bad characters--have chummed in with Tonkin and his lot; while Jenkins, with his wife and daughter, are in their own cabins in the steerage. Mrs Jenkins and her daughter, Patsy, have been busy acting as nurses to your wounded men, under Dr Burgess's instructions, ever since you came aboard us, and they are doing very well." "That is good news," said I, "and I will see that the two women are properly rewarded for their trouble. Now let us see how we stand. How many do the mutineers muster, all told?" "Twenty-five, or twenty-seven if we count in Hales and Cruickshank," answered Carter. "And how many do we muster on our side?" said I. "Let me just reckon up. First of all, there are nine of my men and myself, that makes ten. Then there is yourself, Mr Carter--eleven. What about the stewards?" "Oh, they are all right, and so is the cook. They'll all do their work as usual," answered Carter. "Ay, no doubt," answered I; "but what about their fighting qualities, if we should be obliged to resort to forcible measures with the mutineers?" "Ah," said Carter, "if it comes to fighting, that's another matter! The stewards are youngsters, with the exception of Briggs, the head steward, and would stand a pretty poor chance if it came to a fight with the forecastle hands. But Briggs--well, he's in the pantry, perhaps we'd better call him and hear what he has to say for himself." The head steward was a man of about thirty-five, well-built, and fairly powerful; and upon being questioned he professed himself willing to place himself unreservedly under my orders, and also to ascertain to what extent we might rely upon his subordinates. That brought our fighting force up to an even dozen, to which were speedily added the general and Messrs. Morton, Fielder, Acutt, Boyne, Pearson, and Taylor, all of whom professed to be eager for a scrimmage, although, in the case of the last-mentioned five, I had a suspicion that much of their courage had its origin in a desire to appear to advantage before Miss Duncan. However, that brought us up to nineteen--not counting the three under- stewards--against twenty-seven mutineers. The next question was as to weapons. The mutineers were each of them possessed of at least a knife, while it was known that Tonkin and some six or seven others had one or more pistols, and it was also speedily ascertained that they had secured all the pikes and tomahawks belonging to the ship. Moreover, there were such formidable makeshift weapons as capstan-bars, marline-spikes, belaying-pins, and other instruments accessible to them at a moment's notice. If, therefore, it should come to a hand-to-hand fight, our antagonists were likely to prove rather formidable. On our own side, on the other hand, I possessed a brace of pistols, with five cartridges, and my sword. My men also had had their cutlasses and pistols, together with a certain quantity of ammunition; but these were not to be reckoned upon, for I considered it almost certain that, after putting my three men in irons, Tonkin would take the precaution to secure the arms and ammunition belonging to all of them. Then the general also had his sword and pistols, while each of the other men possessed at least a sporting gun--and, in the case of three of them, pistols as well,--but unfortunately all these were down in the after- hold among their baggage, and could not be got at so long as Tonkin and his gang were in possession of the deck. Thus the only weapons actually available for our party were my own, and it needed but a moment's consideration to show that ours was a case wherein strategy rather than force must be employed. "Well, then, gentlemen," said I, when we had all become agreed upon this point, "it appears to me that the situation resolves itself thus: The mutineers have expressed their determination to go ashore, and until they have done so we can do nothing beyond holding ourselves ready for action at a moment's notice. And meanwhile we must all wear an air of the utmost nonchalance and unconcern; for if we were to manifest any symptoms of excitement or interest in their movements, there are, no doubt, some among them who would be astute enough to observe it, and thereupon to become suspicious. Let them leave the ship, as many as may please to go--and the more the better; and as soon as they are fairly out of sight I will release my men, and we will then set to work to get your firearms up out of the hold, and take such further steps as may be necessary to subdue the mutineers upon their return, and bring them once more under control. Probably we shall only find it necessary to get Tonkin into our hands to break the neck of the revolt and bring the rest of the men to reason. And now I think it would be a very good plan if a few of you were to go up on the poop and take a quiet saunter before breakfast, just to let the men see that you do not stand in any fear of them, and at the same time you can take a good look round, with the object of reporting to me what you see. As for myself, I shall keep below for the present. There is nothing to be gained by reminding Tonkin of my presence in the ship, and if he were to see that I was at large and among you again, he might so far modify his arrangements as to make matters even more difficult for us than they are at present." "Quite right," approved the general. "I agree with every word that our young friend here has said. He appears to have got a very good grip of the situation, and his views accord with my own exactly. We shall doubtless be obliged to come to fisticuffs with those scoundrels forward before we can hope to extricate ourselves from this very awkward situation. But it would be the height of folly to precipitate a fight before we are fully prepared. And now, gentlemen, I am going up on the poop. Come with me who will; but I think that, for the present at least, the ladies had better remain below." And thereupon he and the five young griffins made their way up on deck at short intervals, while Mr Morton and I did our best to comfort and encourage the weaker members of the party. Not that they needed very much encouragement--I will say that for them,--for, with the exception of poor little Mrs Morton, who was very much more anxious and frightened on behalf of her children than on her own account, the ladies showed a very great deal more courage than I had looked for from them; while, as for Mrs Jennings and Miss Duncan, they very promptly came forward to say that if there was any way in which they could possibly render assistance I was not to hesitate to make use of them. While we were all still talking together in the saloon, Briggs, the chief steward, entered in a state of great indignation, and, addressing himself to Carter, informed him that the men demanded fried ham and various other dainties from the cabin stores for breakfast, and upon his venturing to remonstrate with them had darkly hinted that unless he produced the required provisions at once, together with several bottles of rum, it would be the worse for him. "What do you say, Mr Grenvile?" demanded Carter, appealing to me. "Shall we let them have what they ask for?" "Certainly," I said, "seeing that at present we are not in a position to refuse them and make good our refusal. Let them have whatever they ask for, but be as sparing as you possibly can with the grog; we do not want them to have enough to make them quarrelsome, or to render them unfit to go ashore." "It goes mightily against the grain with me to serve out those good cabin stores to such a pack of drunken loafers as them, sir," remonstrated Briggs. "Never mind," said I. "We are in their hands at present, and cannot very well help ourselves. You shall have your revenge later, when we have got the rascals safe below in irons." So they had what some of them inelegantly described as "a good blow-out" that morning in the forecastle, while we were having our own breakfast in the cabin; and, so far as drink was concerned, Tonkin was wise enough to see to it that, in view of their projected trip ashore, no man had more liquor than he could conveniently carry. And while we sat at breakfast the gentlemen who had been on deck gave us the result of such observations as they had been able to make from the poop, which, after all, did not amount to much, the only conclusion at which they had arrived being that we were ashore on the inner edge of a sandbank which had formed athwart the mouth of a river, the extent of which could not be seen from the ship in consequence of the fact that there were two points of land, one overlapping the other, which hid everything beyond them. These two points, the general added, were thickly overgrown with mangroves, and the land immediately behind was low and densely wooded, coconut trees and palms being apparently very plentiful, while a few miles inland the ground rose into low hills, from the midst of which a single mountain towered into the air to a height of some five or six thousand feet. We were still dawdling over breakfast when we heard sounds of movement out on deck, and presently Briggs, who had been instructed to reconnoitre from the pantry window, which commanded a view of the main- deck, sent word by one of the under-stewards that some of the mutineers were getting tackles up on the fore and main yard-arms, while others were employed in clearing out the longboat, which was stowed on the main hatch; and a few minutes later the cook came aft with the intelligence that he had received imperative orders to kill and roast a dozen fowls for the men to take ashore with them, and also to make up a good-sized parcel of cabin bread, butter, pots of jam, pickles, and a dozen bottles of rum, in order that they might not find themselves short of creature comforts during their absence from the ship. This seemed to point to the fact that they intended to undertake their projected excursion in the longboat instead of taking the two gigs--a much greater piece of luck than I had dared to hope for,--and also suggested an intention on their part to make a fairly long day of it. I did not hesitate to instruct Briggs to see to it that their supply of grog should on this occasion be a liberal one, for the longer they remained out of the ship, the more time we should have in which to make our preparation. The weather was intensely hot, and the mutineers manifested no inclination to exert themselves unduly. It was consequently almost eleven o'clock in the forenoon ere the longboat was in the water alongside, and another quarter of an hour was spent over the making of the final preparations; but at length they tumbled down over the side, one after another, with a good deal of rough horseplay, and a considerable amount of wrangling, and pushed off. The general and three or four of the other passengers were on the poop, smoking under the awning--which they had been obliged to spread for themselves,--and observing the movements of the men under the cover of a pretence of reading; and when the longboat had disappeared the general came down to apprise me of that fact, and also of another, namely, that the steerage passengers Hales and Cruickshank, and two seamen, armed to the teeth with pistols and cutlasses--the latter at least, in all probability, taken from my men--had been left behind for the obvious purpose of taking care of the ship and keeping us in order during the absence of the others. CHAPTER SEVEN. WHAT BEFELL THE MUTINEERS. This was rather serious news, and none the less vexatious because it did not take me altogether by surprise. The general opinion had been that all hands were bent upon going ashore, and that the ship would be left at our mercy; but this had certainly not been my own view, for I could not believe that a man of Tonkin's intelligence--realising, as he must, the enormity of his offence in not only himself breaking into open rebellion against lawful authority but in inciting others to do the same--would be so rashly imprudent as to leave us free, for a period of several hours, to release my men and to take such other steps as might occur to us for the suppression of the mutiny. I had felt quite certain that somebody would be left on board to keep us under supervision and restraint, but I had calculated upon the mutineers considering two men sufficient--and also a little, perhaps, upon the difficulty that would be experienced in inducing more than two, at the utmost, to forego the anticipated enjoyment of a run ashore. But here were four recklessly unscrupulous men, powerful, determined fellows, fully armed, left behind to be dealt with by us; and the only weapons that we could muster among us were my sword and pistols. True, we might be able to lay our hands upon a few belaying-pins; but to attack with such weapons four men armed with pistols meant that somebody would almost certainly get hurt, and that I was most anxious to avoid, if possible. Besides, if it came to a fight, there was always the possibility that the reports of the pistols might be heard by some of the party who had gone ashore, and cause them to hurry back before we were ready to receive them fittingly. Upon enquiry I learned that the four men had arranged themselves, two in the waist--one of them on each side of the ship--and two forward near the fore-rigging, where they could command the entrance of the steerage quarters. The general, who was brimful of courage, was fuming with indignation at what he termed "the confounded impudence" of the men in presuming to mutiny, strongly advocated an immediate attack with such weapons as came to hand, but I deprecated that step for the reasons already mentioned, and suggested that quite possibly a little consideration and discussion might enable us to hit upon some plan involving rather less risk. Carter at once suggested that we should try the experiment of plying the men with drink, in the hope of making them intoxicated; and as I considered that this was a case wherein the end justified the means, the plan was at once adopted, Briggs undertaking to carry out to the guard a bottle of especially strong brandy for their delectation. But although they looked at the liquor with very longing eyes, their suspicions at once became aroused, and they roughly ordered him to take it away. And when, instead of doing this, Briggs put down the bottle and left it within their reach, one of them immediately took it up and flung it overboard, where, it may be incidentally mentioned, it was instantly dashed at and swallowed by a shark, to the no small astonishment of those who witnessed the occurrence. This scheme having failed, another was suggested, this time by the ship's surgeon. Briggs, the chief steward, had thus far not had his freedom in the least degree interfered with. It was understood that in the discharge of his duty he must necessarily pass to and fro at frequent intervals between the cabin and the cook's galley--the occupant of which, it may be mentioned, though a surly sort of fellow, and as discontented with everything as ships' cooks generally are, had declared himself absolutely neutral,--and up to the present he had been allowed to do so without let or hindrance. The doctor's plan, therefore, was that he was to go forward to the steerage, as though on a professional visit to the wounded men, and Briggs was at the same time to go forward to the galley to discuss with the cook the arrangements for the cuddy dinner that evening. Then, as soon as they were fairly forward, Carter and I were to sally forth together and grapple with the two men in the waist, at the same time whistling to apprise the doctor and Briggs, who, upon hearing the signal, would rush upon and grapple with the two men on the forecastle. The idea was, not to provoke a fight, but to overpower and secure these four men without giving them an opportunity to create an alarm by firing their pistols. We four, therefore, were simultaneously to pinion and hold them until others, coming to our assistance, could help us, if necessary, to secure and disarm them. This plan, we at once decided, was quite promising enough to be worth a trial; and accordingly we forthwith proceeded to put it into execution. First of all, as arranged, the doctor sallied forth, with a number of bandages and other materials in his hands, and demanded admission to the steerage, which, after some slight demur, was accorded him. Then Briggs, who had been watching the progress of events from the pantry window, sauntered casually forward and stood by the door of the galley, where he proceeded to discuss with the cook the advisability of killing a pig. And finally Carter and I, having allowed a minute or two to elapse, walked calmly out on the main-deck together, smoking a cigar apiece, and laughing and talking as though we were acting in pure absent-mindedness. Our perfect coolness, and apparent want of the slightest appearance of concern, so completely staggered the two guards in the waist that they allowed us to get within a couple of fathoms of the one on the port side before it dawned upon them to interfere; and then Cruickshank, the man on the starboard side, dashed across the deck to the support of his companion, at the same time shouting to us in very bellicose accents: "Here, you two, get back, d'ye hear? What d'ye mean by settin' foot on this part of the deck against Mr Tonkin's express orders? Now hook it, sharp, or--" The moment that the fellow was fairly clear of the hatchway, and on the port side of the deck, I raised my hand to my lips, spat out my cigar, and sent a single shrill, but not loud, whistle along the deck, and then sprang straight at my immensely powerful antagonist, while Carter manfully tackled his own man. And at the same instant the doctor and Briggs sprang upon the pair who were keeping guard on the forecastle. As arranged, none of us attempted to do more than just pinion each his own particular antagonist and prevent him from drawing his weapons, trusting to the others to help us to master and secure them. And gallantly those others backed us up, for at the sound of my whistle, young Acutt--a fine, athletic young giant--dashed out of the cabin and, without paying any attention to the writhing and struggling quartette in his way, dodged us and rushed forward to the galley to prevent cookie from interfering, while Fielder, Boyne, Pearson, and Taylor--the other four young griffins--rushed with equal celerity to the support of the doctor, Briggs, Carter, and myself. My own particular man struggled savagely in his endeavour to free himself from my grasp, and, being a much heavier and more powerful man than I was, pinned me up against the rail and threw his whole strength into a determined effort to break my back, in which effort he would have very speedily succeeded had not Boyne quickly felled him to the deck and stunned him by a well-directed blow from an iron belaying-pin. To disarm and securely bind the fellow was the work of but a minute or two, and then, breathless with our exertions, and, so far as I was concerned, in considerable pain, Boyne and I stood up and looked about us to see how the others were faring. Looking, first of all, near home, we saw Hales pinned up against the rail, with young Pearson taking his weapons away from him, while Carter was busily engaged in seizing him up, the general meanwhile standing by and pointing my drawn sword at his throat to discourage him from any ill-advised attempt at resistance; while the doctor and Briggs, with the assistance of Fielder and Taylor, were also busily engaged in securing their respective men. The ship was ours! and now it only remained for us to take promptly such steps as were necessary to retain possession of her when the other mutineers should see fit to return. The first thing to be done was to release my own men from confinement, and this we instantly did, when I had the great satisfaction of discovering that, thanks to the skill of Doctor Burgess, and the assiduous nursing of Mrs Jenkins and her daughter Patsy, all our wounded, except two, were so far convalescent as to be quite fit for ordinary duty, while the other two were also doing so favourably that they could be made useful in a variety of ways provided that they were not called upon to undertake any very severe physical exertion. Thus I very soon found myself at the head of a little band of nine armed and resolute men, each of whom was prepared to do my bidding to the death if called upon. We now lost no time in hustling our four prisoners down into the fore- peak, where they could do no harm, and where, after being securely clapped into irons, they were bade to make themselves as comfortable as they could on top of the ship's stock of coal, while one of my men who, from the comparatively severe character of his wounds, was least likely to be of service to us in other directions, was stationed in the forecastle above, fully armed, to keep an eye upon them, and see they got into no mischief. This little matter having been satisfactorily arranged, we next got the hatches off the after hatchway, and roused the passengers' baggage on deck, from which the respective owners at once proceeded to withdraw such weapons and ammunition as they possessed; after which we struck the various packages down into the hold again and put on the hatches. We now mustered seventeen armed men, all told, each of whom was provided with a firearm of some kind, while my own nine men, myself, and the general boasted sidearms as well. Carter had no weapons of his own, neither had the doctor nor Briggs, but three of the youngsters possessed a brace of pistols each, which they were quite willing to lend; and with these Carter, the doctor, and Briggs were promptly armed. This brought our number up to twenty against the twenty-three away in the longboat; and since we possessed the advantage over the mutineers that we had the ship's deck as a fighting platform, I thought that we might now regard ourselves as masters of the situation. Nevertheless I did not feel disposed to neglect any further advantages that we might happen to possess--for not all of our party were fighting men, and I did not know how the civilians might behave in a hand-to-hand fight. I therefore at once began to look round with the object of ascertaining what further means of defence the ship afforded. She was pierced for twelve guns-- six of a side; but the only artillery that she actually carried was a pair of 6-pounder brass carronades, the carriages of which were secured one on either side of the main-deck entrance to the saloon. I suspected that these pieces had been put on board by the owners more for the purpose of signalling than as a means of defence, but I now gave them a very careful overhaul, and came to the conclusion that they were good, reliable weapons, and capable of rendering efficient service. But when I came to question Carter about ammunition he could tell me nothing, as he had not been aboard the ship when her cargo was stowed. However, at my suggestion he now took possession of the skipper's cabin, and proceeded to give it a thorough overhaul, with the result that in a short time he reappeared with a key in his hand, attached to which was a parchment label inscribed "Magazine". This was strong presumptive evidence in favour of the supposition that a magazine existed somewhere aboard the ship, and a little further search resulted in its discovery abaft the lazarette. With all due precautions we at once proceeded to open this receptacle, and found, to our very great satisfaction, that it not only contained a supply of signal rockets, but also a liberal supply of powder cartridges for the signal guns, and a dozen stands of muskets, together with a goodly number of kegs, some of which contained powder, while the remainder were full of bullets. This was a most fortunate discovery indeed, especially in so far as the muskets were concerned, for the possession of them at once gave us a definite and very decided advantage over the mutineers. The muskets were forthwith conveyed on deck, together with a supply of powder and three kegs of bullets, and also a dozen cartridges for the guns. The afternoon was by this time well advanced, and we might look for the return of the mutineers at any moment. We therefore loaded the carronades with five double handfuls of musket balls apiece--about a hundred bullets to each gun--in place of round shot, and, running them forward, mounted them on the topgallant forecastle as being the most commanding position in the ship. Then we loaded the muskets and placed them in the rack on the fore side of the deck-house, which completed our preparations. And now all that remained was to keep a sharp look-out, and, while doing so, determine upon the policy to be pursued when the returning longboat should heave in sight. Having personally seen that our preparations were all as complete and perfect as it was possible to make them, and having also posted Simpson and Martin, two of my own men, armed with muskets, as look-outs, on the forecastle, I at length went aft to the poop, where all the passengers were now gathered, and where I saw the general and Mr Morton engaged in earnest conversation with Carter. As I made my way leisurely up the poop-ladder the general beckoned to me to join the little group, and then, as I approached, Carter turned to me and said: "Mr Grenvile, the general, Mr Morton, and I have been discussing together the rather curious state of affairs that has been brought about aboard this ship by this unfortunate mutiny; and we are fully agreed that, as matters stand, you are the most fit and proper person to take charge until things have been straightened out. Of course I don't forget that, in consequence of the death of Cap'n Williams, I'm now the cap'n of this ship; but, as I've just been tellin' Sir Thomas and Mr Morton, here, I've never had any experience of fightin' of any kind, and as like as not if I was to attempt to take the lead, where fightin' is concerned, I should make a bungle of it. Now, you seem to be quite at home in this sort of thing, if you'll excuse me for sayin' so; you knew exactly what was the right thing to be done, and have really been in command the whole of this blessed day, although you've pretended that you were only helpin', as you may say. Then you've got nine trained fightin' men aboard here who'll do just exactly what you tell 'em, but who wouldn't care to have me orderin' them--to say nothin' of you-- about. So we've come to the conclusion that, so far as the fightin' and all that is concerned, you are the right man to be in command, and I, as cap'n of this ship, hereby ask you to take charge and deal with the trouble accordin' as you think best." I bowed, and then turned to the other two, saying: "Sir Thomas and Mr Morton, it occurs to me that you two, in virtue of the fact that you are in a sense doubly interested in this matter--since it not only involves you in your own proper persons but also in the persons of your wives and families--are entitled to express an opinion upon this proposal of Captain Carter's, and that I, as a naval officer, ought to give your opinion my most serious consideration. Am I to understand that you are in full and perfect agreement with Mr Carter in this proposal which he has just made to me?" "Most assuredly we are, Mr Grenvile," answered the general. "Captain Carter is a merchant seaman, and no doubt a very excellent man in that capacity; but he now finds himself face to face with a difficulty such as merchant captains are, fortunately, very seldom called upon to face, and naturally he feels somewhat at a loss. You, on the other hand, are, by your whole training, well qualified to deal with the situation, and, in view of the important interests involved, Captain Carter--and we also--would like you to assume the command." "Very well," said I, "I will do so, and will use my utmost endeavours to extricate ourselves from this difficulty. I already have a plan for dealing with the mutineers when they return, which I think ought to prove successful, and that, too, without any need for fighting; but I shall require the assistance of the gentlemen passengers to enable me to make an imposing display of force." "That is all right, my boy," answered the general cordially; "we will willingly place ourselves under your orders without reserve; so tell us what you would have us do, and we will do it." "Well," said I, "we may now expect the mutineers to return at any moment, and we must be ready for them when they appear. I will therefore ask you all to have your weapons at hand; and when the longboat heaves in sight the ladies must immediately go below, out of harm's way, while you distribute yourselves along the bulwarks, with your firearms levelled at the boat. You must arrange yourselves in such a manner that the mutineers may be able to see that you are all armed, and prepared to fight if necessary. By this means I hope to overawe them and bring them to reason." I then completed all my arrangements, being careful to take Carter into my full confidence, and treat him in every respect as master of the ship, assuming for myself rather the character of his first lieutenant than anything else--and then all that remained for us to do was to sit down and patiently await the return of the mutineers. But the time sped on, the hour of sunset arrived, and darkness fell upon the scene without any sign of the longboat, and I began to feel somewhat uneasy as to the safety of the absentees, for we were in a lonely, and, so far as my knowledge went, an unfrequented part of the coast; and I had heard some rather gruesome stories as to the doings of the natives, and of the treatment that they were wont to mete out to white men--shipwrecked sailors and others--who happened to be so unfortunate as to fall into their hands. And as the hours drifted past without bringing any news, I at length grew so anxious that I began to consider very seriously the advisability of sending away a boat in search of the missing men. After fully discussing the matter with Carter, however, I came to the conclusion that our first duty was to take care of the ship and her passengers, and that the mutinous crew must be left to look after themselves. Finally, having set a strong anchor-watch, I went below and turned in. Daylight arrived, noon came, and still there was no sign of the absentees, and in a fever of anxiety I made my way up to the fore-royal- yard, from which lofty elevation I made a careful survey of the inland district. But there was very little to see beyond a two-mile stretch of a broad, winding river dotted with tree-grown islets here and there. The country itself was so densely overgrown with bush and trees that nothing upon its surface was to be seen. As to the longboat, she was nowhere visible; but I was not much astonished at that, because, from the glimpse that I was able to catch of the river, I had very little doubt that its characteristics were precisely those of all the other rivers in that region, namely, a somewhat sluggish current of water thick with foul and fetid mud, swampy margins overgrown with mangroves, and numerous shallow, winding creeks, mangrove-bordered, discharging into it on either side; and it was highly probable that, failing to find a firm bank upon which to land along the margin of the river itself, the mutineers had proceeded in search of such a spot up one of the creeks. There were no canoes to be seen on that part of the river's surface which was visible from my look-out, and the only suggestion of human life anywhere in the neighbourhood was to be found in what I took to be a thin, almost invisible, wreath of smoke rising above the tree tops at a spot some two miles distant. That wreath of smoke might, of course, indicate the position of the mutineers' bivouac; but, on the other hand, it might--and I thought this far more likely--indicate the location of a native village; and if the latter suspicion should prove to be correct I could not but feel that the situation of the mutineers was one full of peril. Having taken a careful mental note of everything that I had seen, I descended the ratlines, and, making my way aft, invited Carter, the general, and Mr Morton to join me in the main saloon, which happened just then to be vacant. When we arrived there, I told my companions what I had seen, and what I feared, and then laid before them a proposal that I should take the ship's galley--a very fine six-oared boat--and, with my nine men, and one of the carronades mounted in the bows, go in search of the missing men. But neither the general nor Morton would hear of this for a moment. They were quite willing that a boat should be dispatched to search for the longboat and her crew if the matter could be arranged, but they very strongly protested against the idea that I and all my nine fighting men should leave the ship, which, they pointed out, would be at the mercy of the mutineers if we were to miss them and if they were to get back before us; or, possibly, which would be still worse, open to an attack from hundreds of savages should the natives by any chance have discovered us and observed our helpless predicament. I was pointing out to them that this stand which they were taking rendered the idea of a search impossible, since I considered it neither wise nor prudent to dispatch a weak search party, and that I could not dream of ordering any of my own men away upon such an expedition in the command of anyone but myself, when I heard a call on deck, and the next moment Simpson presented himself at the entrance of the saloon to say that the longboat was in sight, pulling hard for the ship, but that, so far as could be made out, there were only five men in her! Whereupon, with one accord we all dashed out on deck and made the best of our way to the topgallant-forecastle, which afforded a good view of the approaching boat. It was now a few minutes past three o'clock, ship's time. Arrived on the forecastle, I snatched the telescope from the hands of the look-out as he flourished the instrument toward the boat, with the remark: "There she comes, sir, and the buckos in her seem to be in a tearin' hurry, too. See how they're makin' the spray fly and the oars buckle! They're workin' harder just now than they've done for many a long day, I'll warrant." Levelling the instrument upon the approaching boat, I saw that, as Simpson had informed me, there were only five men in her, who, as the look-out man had observed, were pulling as though for their lives. The boat, although a heavy one, was positively foaming through the water, and the long, stout ash oars, which the men were labouring at, bent and sprang almost to breaking point at every stroke. "There is something very seriously wrong somewhere," said I gravely, "and those fellows are bringing the news of it. Let them come alongside, Simpson; but muster the _Sharks_ at the gangway to disarm those men as they come up the side, should they happen to have any weapons about them." Two minutes later the longboat dashed alongside, and as the men flung in their oars, the man who had been pulling bow sprang to his feet and yelled: "Heave me a line, mates, and for God's sake let us come aboard. We want to see Mr Carter, quick!" "All right, my bully boy," answered Simpson. "Here's a line for ye; look out! But don't you chaps be in too much of a hurry now; the orders is that you're to come up the side one at a time. And if you've got any such little matter as a knife or a pistol about you, just fork it over. Thank'e! Next man," as the man climbed inboard and without demur drew an empty pistol and his knife from his belt and handed them over. "Now then, my lad," said I, as the fellow faced round and confronted me, "where are the rest of the men who left this ship yesterday? Out with your story, as quick as you please." "Where are the rest!" he repeated, with white and quivering lips, while his eyes rolled and his voice rose almost to a scream. "Why, some of 'em are dead--lucky beggars! and t'others are in the hands of the savages, away there in the woods, and are bein' slowly tormented to death, one at a time, while t'others is forced to look on and wait their turn. At least that's how I reads what I've seen." "And how come you five men to be here?" I demanded. "Have you managed to escape from the savages, or were you not with the rest when they were taken?" "Why, sir," answered the fellow, "it's like this here--" "Stop a moment," I interrupted him. "Tell us your whole story, as briefly as possible, from the moment when you pushed off from the ship's side yesterday. Then we shall get something like a clear and coherent account of what has happened." "Yes, yes, that's right, Grenvile," agreed the general as he stood beside me, very upright and stern-looking, his lips white, but the eager light of battle already kindling in his eyes. "It will be a saving of time in the long run." "I certainly think so," said I. "Now, my man, heave ahead with your yarn." "Well, sir," resumed the man, "we shoved off from the ship's side-- three-and-twenty of us, as you know--but, beg pardon, sir, I forgot--you wasn't on deck--" "Never mind about that, my lad," interrupted I; "go ahead as quickly as possible. You shoved off from the ship and pulled away into the river. What happened then?" "Nothin' at all, sir," was the reply. "We just pulled into the river, and as soon as we was fairly inside we started to look round for a spot where we could get ashore; but, try where we would, we couldn't find nothin' but soft mud that wouldn't have bore the weight of a cat, much less of a man. But while we was huntin' for a place we came across a narrer creek, just wide enough for us to pull into; and Tonkin up's hellum and says as we'll try in there. So we pulled along for a matter of nigh upon a mile, when all at once the creek comes to an end, and we find the boat's nose jammed in among a lot of mangrove roots. Then pore Jim Nesbitt ups and volunteers to try and scramble along the mangroves and see if he can find a spot firm enough for us to land upon; and when he'd been gone about a quarter of a hour he comes back again and says he've found a place. So, actin' upon Tonkin's orders, each one of us grabs a fowl, or a bottle, or what not, and away we goes in pore Jim's wake; and presently out we comes at a place where the mangroves stopped and the bush began, and where the mud was hard and firm enough to walk upon, and a little later we comes upon a sort of path through the bush, follerin' which we presently comes into a little open space where there was nothin' but grass, with big trees growin' all round it, and there we brought ourselves to an anchor, and cried `Spell ho!' "Then we had some grub and a drop or two of grog, and a smoke, and then some of us stretched out on the grass to have a snooze; but the ants and creepin' things was that wishious and perseverin' that we couldn't lie still for two minutes on end; so we all gets up and starts huntin' for fruit. But the only fruit we could find was cokernuts, and they was to be had, as many as we wanted, just for the trouble of shinnin' up the trees. So we ate nuts and drank the milk--with just a dash of rum in it now and again--until we didn't want any more; and then we laid ourselves down again, and in spite of the ants and things some of us had a good long sleep. I felt just as sleepy as the rest, but I couldn't get no peace at all on the ground, so I looked round and presently made up my mind to go aloft in a big tree that was standin' not far off. That tree to look at was as easy to climb as them there ratlins, but somehow it took me a long time to shin up it and find a comfortable place where I could get a snooze without fallin' from aloft; but by and by I came athwart a branch with a big fork in it, reachin' out well over the open space where the other chaps were lyin' about, and, wedgin' myself into the fork, I was very soon fast asleep. "When I woke up it was pitch dark, exceptin' that somebody had lighted a big fire in the middle of the open space, and there was our lads all lyin' round fast asleep. I felt cold, for the night had turned foggy, and I was tryin' to make up my mind to climb down and get a bit nearer to the fire when a most awful yellin' arose, and the next second the place was chock-full of leapin' and howlin' niggers flourishin' great clubs and spears, and bowlin' over our chaps as fast as they got up on to their feet. A few of our people managed to get up, hows'ever, and they got to work with their pistols and cutlasses, and I let fly with my pistol from where I sat up aloft among the branches, and bowled over an ugly, bald-headed old chap rigged in a monkey-skin round his 'midships, and carryin' a live snake in his hand. "The loss of this old cock seemed to have a most astonishin' effect upon the other niggers, for whereas the minute afore they'd been doin' all they knew to kill our chaps, no sooner was this old party down than all hands of 'em what had seen him fall stops dead and yells out `pilliloo' to t'others, when, dash my wig if the whole lot of 'em didn't just make one jump upon our people--them that was still alive I mean--and beat their weapons out o' their hands, after which they lashes 'em all together, with their hands behind 'em, and marches 'em off into the bush, some twenty or thirty of 'em stoppin' behind to make sure that all of our lads as was down was also dead. And d'ye know how they did that, sir? Why, by just choppin' off their heads with great swords made of what looked like hard wood! "Seven of our pore chaps lost the number of their mess in this way, and then the savages cleared out, carryin' the heads away with 'em, and leavin' the bodies lyin' scattered about the place. I waited up in my tree until the murderin' thieves had got clear away, and then I starts to climb down, intendin' to foller 'em and find out what they meant to do with the white men as they'd took away alive with 'em, when, as my feet touched the solid ground once more, dash my wig if these here four mates of mine didn't drop out of some other trees close at hand. They'd been worried wi' the ants and what not, same as I was, and, seein' me shinnin' up a tree, they'd gone and done likewise, and that's the way that we five escaped bein' massicreed. "Then the five of us goes to work and holds a council o' war, as you may say; and we agreed that two of us should foller up the savages to find out what game they was up to, while t'other three should go back to the boat and take care of her. But, seein' that away from the scattered embers of the fire it was so dark that you could hardly see your hand before you, we agreed that 'twas no use attemptin' to do anything until daylight; so we got up into our trees again, and held on where we were in case any o' them savages should come back. And a precious lucky thing it was that we thought of doin' so, for--it's the solemn truth I'm tellin' you, gen'lemen--we hadn't very much more'n got settled back on our perches when back comes about a dozen o' them savages, creepin' out from among the trees as quiet as cats, and starts searchin' the whole place up and down as though they'd lost somethin'. My mates and me reckoned it up that them niggers had seen us and counted us some time yesterday, and had found, after the massacree, that we wasn't all accounted for, and so they'd come back to look for us. It was a fort'nit thing for us that we was pretty well hid by the leaves, also that the niggers didn't seem to think of lookin' for us up in the trees, and by and by, just as the day was breakin', they took theirselves off again. "When they'd got fairly away out o' our neighbourhood I climbed down again, and the others follered suit; and Mike, here, and I made sail along the path that the niggers had gone, while the other three topped their booms for the boat, the onderstandin' bein' that they was to get her afloat and swung round all ready, and then wait till Mike and me j'ined 'em. "Well, Mr Carter, sir, and gen'lemen, Mike here and me follered along the path that the savages had took, for a matter of a couple o' mile, when we hears a tremenjous hullabaloo of niggers shoutin', and tom-toms beatin', and dogs barkin', and what not, so we knowed that we was pretty close aboard a native village, as they calls 'em, so we shortened sail and got in among the bushes, creepin' for'ard until we could see what was happenin'. And when at last we was able to get a pretty clear view, the sight we saw was enough to freeze a man's blood. They'd got all our chaps lashed to stakes set up in a clear, open space in front of the village, and one of the pore unfort'nit fellers was stripped stark naked and bein' tormented by a crowd o' niggers what was puttin' burnin' splinters between his fingers, and stickin' 'em into his flesh, and pourin' red-hot cinders into his mouth, what they'd prised open by thrustin' a thick stick in between his jaws; and the shrieks as that unhappy man was lettin' fly was just awful to listen to; but the savages seemed to enjy 'em, for they just yelled with delight at every shriek. Mike and me we turned as sick as dogs at what we seen; and presently Mike grabs me by the hand and says: `Let's get back to the ship, mate, and report. P'rhaps the skipper'll forgive us for what we've done, and persuade the navy gent to fit out a hexpedition to rescue the others.' So away we came as fast as we could, but when we got to the boat she was aground, and we had to wait a long time until she floated. But here we are, sir; and oh, gen'lemen, for the love o' God do somethin', if ye can, to save them pore chaps what's bein' tormented to death over there." CHAPTER EIGHT. THE RESCUE. For a few seconds after the close of the man's harrowing account there was a dead silence among us. Then the general, wiping the perspiration from his face, turned to me and said: "Grenvile, my friend, this is a situation for you to grapple with, and a very difficult situation it is, I confess. For, on the one hand, those unhappy men must be rescued at all hazards, while, on the other, it is equally imperative that the ship and those in her should be protected from a possible, not to say very probable, attack by the savages. Now, what is to be done? Of course you will understand that I am ready to play any part that you may assign to me, but I may be permitted to suggest that I should probably be more useful in leading the shore expedition than in any other way." "Thank you, general. Yes, no doubt you are right, but it is a very difficult situation, as you say, and I must have a moment or two to think it out." Then, turning to the five horrified seamen who had returned in the longboat, I ordered them to go forward and get the cook to give them something to eat and drink, for I should be in need of the services of all of them sooner or later, while one of them would have to come with me in the boat as a guide. The five men whom I addressed--all thoughts of mutiny having by this time been most effectually frightened out of their heads--turned and slouched away forward as meekly as lambs; and the moment that they were gone I was surrounded by an excited crowd of passengers, all of whom had come down from the poop to listen to the story of the five returned seamen, and every one of them had some more or less unpractical suggestion to make. It was rather unfortunate that they had all heard what had passed, for the very graphic narrative, told by an eye-witness, of the gruesome happenings of the past night, and the powerful suggestion of what was probably taking place at that moment away yonder in the woods, had so acted upon the vivid imaginations of the women that one or two of them were visibly upon the very verge of hysterics, while all were more or less in a state of mortal terror as to what might be their fate should the natives take it into their heads to attack the ship. For, that the presence of so many white men as they had encountered would suggest to the astute native mind the idea that a ship was somewhere near at hand was so exceedingly likely that it might almost be accepted as a foregone conclusion. But, terrified though the women were, they behaved marvellously well, and quietly retired when I requested them to do so in order that we men might be left free to discuss details together. But, even while the chatter was raging round me at its most excited pitch, my mind was busy upon the details of the only plan that was at all feasible. Our entire available fighting force, counting in the whole of the male passengers, the surgeon, Briggs and his three assistants, Jenkins the steerage passenger, the cook, and the five men who had escaped from the savages, amounted to thirty. It was, of course, quite impossible to form, from the account of the five escaped seamen, anything like an accurate estimate of the numbers of the savages, but I believed I should be quite safe in setting them down at not less than three hundred. There were also the four prisoners; but I reflected that as they had not suffered the harrowing experience of the five escaped men, they would probably be still in much too insubordinate a frame of mind to be of any use, and I therefore determined to leave them where they were for the present. I reckoned, however, that not a man would leave the village, either to attack the ship or for any other purpose, until the gruesome sport upon which they were at that moment engaged had been played out to an end; and I therefore came to the conclusion that I should be quite justified in throwing the balance of strength into the land expedition. I accordingly divided my force into two equal parts, placing Simpson in charge of the ship and entrusting him with her defence, with a small crew composed of the surgeon, the four stewards, the cook, Jenkins the steerage passenger, Messrs. Morton, Fielder, Acutt, Boyne, Pearson, and Taylor, and one of my own men named Sharland, whose wounds rendered him useless for arduous land service, although he might be made very useful at a pinch aboard the ship. This left, for the landing expedition, the general, Carter, myself, and seven _Sharks_, and the five men who had escaped in the longboat. Thus each force consisted of fifteen men. But I considered that the landing force was far the more formidable of the two, since we numbered among us nine trained fighting men; while, in the improbable event of an attack upon the ship, the party left on board her would have the advantage of the deck as a fighting platform, and, if hard pressed, the saloon and deckhouses to which to retreat. I also left them all the muskets and boarding pikes, as well, of course, as their own personal firearms, and the two brass carronades. As for us, the general and I each had a sword, the _Sharks_ carried a cutlass apiece, and every man of us also had a brace of pistols in his belt, and a pocketful of cartridges. But what I most trusted to for the creation of a good, wholesome panic among the savages was a dozen signal rockets which I had found in the ship's magazine. Our arrangements being now complete, the general bade a hasty good-bye to his wife and daughter, who bore themselves very bravely upon the occasion, and we all tumbled down over the side into the longboat--into which Briggs had already, with commendable forethought, passed a large basket of provisions for the sustenance of ourselves and such of the mutineers as we might be fortunate enough to rescue. It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon when we shoved off. It took us but a few minutes to reach the river entrance, passing through which we presently found ourselves in a broad, lagoon-like expanse of water, some two miles long by about a mile wide, dotted here and there with small, tree-clad islands, some of which might have been as much as ten or twelve acres in extent, while others were mere heaps of mud just large enough to support a clump of half a dozen or so of coconut trees and a tiny thicket of bamboo. The greater part of this lagoon was evidently very shallow, for dotted about here and there were to be seen partially submerged trunks of trees and other debris that appeared to have been swept down into their present position by some bygone flood, and had ultimately grounded on the mud; but there was just sufficient current and wind to reveal a deep-water channel of about two hundred yards wide, running in a fairly straight line through the lagoon toward its most distant extremity. There were numerous objects dotted about the surface of the lagoon, which, at a distance, had all the appearance of floating logs, but which, when we drew near to them, proved to be, in almost every instance, the heads of basking alligators. And before we had been in the river ten minutes we were startled by a huge black bulk breaking water close alongside the boat, which turned out to be a hippopotamus. "Now, Higgins," said I, "whereabout is this creek of yours? I see no sign of it thus far." "Oh, it's some way on ahead yet, sir!" answered the man. "Keep her straight up through the deep-water, sir, please. I'll tell you when we comes in sight of it." That the unfortunate mutineers had penetrated some distance into the country soon became evident, for we traversed the entire length of the lagoon and fully a mile of the river after it had narrowed down to about a quarter of a mile in width ere we sighted a break of any kind in the thick entanglement of mangrove trees that lined the margin of the stream. But even this, so Higgins informed us, was not the creek of which we were in search, and which he believed lay nearly a mile farther up the stream. Of the one actually in sight he denied any knowledge, and I soon became convinced that it had escaped the notice of the mutineers. The break in question was on the northern bank of the river--that is to say, on the same side as the creek of which we were in quest; and when first sighted it was about a quarter of a mile distant. As we drew nearer to it I saw that a deep-water channel led straight to it from the main deep-water channel, at a point about half a cable's-length distant; and I kept my eye upon the spot, as the creek gradually opened out, for I could not help thinking that it presented an almost ideal spot wherein a slaver might conceal herself. And, as I watched, I suddenly saw a column of thick smoke shoot up above the tree tops at a point that I estimated to be not much more than two hundred yards from the mouth of the creek, and in the direction toward which the latter seemed to be trending, while at the same moment the blare of horns and the dub-a-dub- dub of tom-toms was borne faintly to our ears by the fitful breeze. "Oars!" cried I sharply. "Silence, fore and aft, and listen all of you!" The men instantly laid upon their oars, and as the boat went surging along with the "way" that she had on her, we all distinctly heard, above the quiet lap and gurgle of the water against her planking, the sounds of which I have spoken, with an occasional swelling of the sound which conveyed the idea of many human voices raised in a monotonous kind of chant. "How much farther do you say this creek of yours is, Higgins?" I demanded. "Why, sir," answered the man, "I should say as it's the best part of a mile higher up. Ain't it, Mike?" "Ay, about that, I should think," answered Mike, swinging round on his thwart and shading his eyes with his hand as his gaze searchingly swept the river bank. And the other three escaped mutineers expressed a like opinion. "And what was the general trend of the direction which you took when you followed the savages?" asked I. "Why," answered Higgins, instantly catching my meaning, "it was westerly, sir; wasn't it, Mike? Don't ye remember that the run of the creek itself was some'at down-stream? And when we went a'ter the savages we kept on bearin' away towards the left, didn't we? Depend on't, sir, that there smoke is where the village lies, and that row that we hears is made by the savages doorin' the tormentin' of one of our pore unfort'nit shipmates!" I was of the same opinion myself. That creek away on our port bow appeared to lead so nearly in a direct line toward the point from which the smoke was rising, and seemed to offer such a temptingly short cut to the village where the diabolical work was undoubtedly going forward, that I determined to take the slight risk of being mistaken, and make for it forthwith. I therefore gave the coxswain orders to starboard his helm a bit and feel his way cautiously in over the mud, and the oarsmen to give way and keep strict silence. In another minute, or less, we had passed out of the main deep-water channel, and were gliding through the shallow water that covered the flat mud-banks on either side of the stream, the men dipping their oars deep at every stroke to get timely warning of our approach to water not deep enough to float the boat. "No bottom yet, sir," reported the stroke-oar at frequent intervals; and at each report the coxswain starboarded an extra half-point or so, until at length the boat's nose was pointing straight for the mouth of the creek, and at every stroke of the oars the fiendish uproar of horns, tom-toms, and shouting--or chanting, whichever it was--seemed to come to our ears more distinctly, and with more ominous import. At length the boat entered the creek, or canal, and I at once gave orders for all hands who had cutlasses to draw them, and for every man to look carefully to the priming of his pistols. This having been done, we pulled ahead once more, and now the rapidity with which the mingled sounds that were guiding us increased in volume told us that we were quickly approaching the scene of action. And presently, as though to dissipate any doubt that might still be lurking in our minds, we distinctly heard, at frequent intervals, the piercing scream of a man in mortal agony! "Do you hear that, Grenvile?" whispered the general through his set teeth. "Why, man, those cries make one's blood run cold to listen to them! How much farther do you mean to go before landing?" "I shall go on until we bring the sounds abeam of us," I whispered back. "We are moving very much faster here than we should ashore, especially when it comes to creeping through those mangrove tree roots; so I will get as close to the place as I can before landing. Oars!" For at that moment we swept round a rather sharp bend in the stream, and I caught a glimpse, at no great distance ahead, of what I thought looked very much like the stern of a canoe projecting from among the trees on our port. I held up my hand for silence. We were so near to the scene of action now, that, had we raised a shout, we should instantly have attracted attention and, maybe, have temporarily suspended whatever operations might be proceeding. But my party was altogether too weak to justify me in incurring any risks; there appeared to be but one life in immediate jeopardy ashore there, whereas any premature alarm might result in the loss of several of the rescuing party, and possibly the complete failure of the expedition. No, my strongest hope lay in the possibility of effecting a complete surprise; so I hardened my heart, held up my hand to enjoin the most perfect silence, and whispered the coxswain to sheer the boat a little closer to the port bank. Then, as the boat seemed to have plenty of "way" on her, I ordered the "stroke" to pass the word to lay in the oars noiselessly, and for those in the bows to stand by with the boat-hook and the painter. These orders had just been obeyed, and we were gliding along in absolute silence, when, a short distance ahead, I caught sight of a break in the mangroves that looked wide enough to admit the boat, and I signed to the coxswain to point our stem for it. A few seconds later we slid into a kind of cavern, formed of the overarching branches of a belt of mangroves, and, gliding along a narrow canal of about sixty feet in length, we finally brought up alongside a good firm bank of soil, on which there was room enough for us all to land. Our movements were effectually masked by a thin belt of scrub, which appeared to be all that intervened between us and the three or four hundred yelling and chanting natives who were now making the air ring and vibrate within a short hundred yards of us. At the same time I became aware that the agonising shrieks, as of one in mortal agony, had ceased. The din of discordant sounds was now so tremendous that there was no very especial need for the observance of any great amount of caution on our part, yet we disembarked with scarcely a sound, and I drew our little party up in two lines, the _Sharks_ being placed in the front rank, and the others immediately behind them. "Now, men," said I, "I have just one last word of caution to give you before we attack. Remember that we have not come here for the express purpose of fighting the natives, but to rescue our fellow-countrymen; therefore my orders are that as soon as this is accomplished a retreat is to be at once made to the boat, no man pausing except to support a comrade who may be in difficulties. I propose to begin the attack by discharging the whole of these rockets as rapidly as possible into the thick of the crowd of natives, and then to charge upon them with sword and cutlass, reserving our pistol fire for emergencies. I hope by this plan to scatter the savages and cause their retirement for at least a few brief minutes, during which we must dash in, cut loose the prisoners, and retire with them to the boat. There must be no more fighting than is actually necessary to enable us to accomplish our purpose." The general patted me approvingly on the back. "Excellent, my lad, excellent," he whispered. "There spoke the prudent commander. I foresee that you will do well in your profession. And now, let us get on." "One moment, general, if you please," said I. "I want to reconnoitre before advancing into the open." "Right," he answered. "And I'll go with you." I nodded consent, and at once led the way toward the screen of bush that interposed between ourselves and the village. The distance to be traversed was merely some sixty or seventy yards, and to cover this we were obliged to make our way through some sparsely-scattered mangroves. It took us less than a minute to accomplish the journey, and then we found that the bush was much less dense than it had appeared to be, since we were enabled without the least difficulty to penetrate it to a spot where our whole party could comfortably stand, and where the intervening screen was so tenuous that, ourselves unseen, we could see everything that was happening in the village. This was so obviously the proper spot from which to make our attack that the general at once went back to bring up the men, while I remained to make such few observations as the brief time at my disposal would permit. I found that we were on what might be termed the right front of the village, which was a tolerably important place, consisting of some two hundred roomy huts, constructed of wattles and sun-baked clay, and thatched with palm leaves. The huts, however, had no interest for me now; it was the scene that was being enacted in the wide, open space in front of the village that riveted my attention. This space was occupied by a crowd of fully a thousand blacks--men, women, and children--most of whom were practically naked, and all of whom were slowly circling in a weird kind of dance round a small area, in the midst of which were planted eleven stout stakes at distances of about fifty feet apart. These stakes were, of course, upright, and stood about ten feet high. It was therefore easy enough to count the stakes, but owing to the dense crowd which surrounded them it was exceedingly difficult to distinguish whether or not anything, or anybody, was attached to them. But I found no difficulty in arriving at a tolerably accurate surmise as to the purpose of these stakes, for four of them were charred quite black, as though by the action of fire, while a thin wreath of pale brownish-blue smoke still eddied and circled about one of the four. The tone of the chant now being sung by the savages was very different from that which had reached our ears while in the open river; it was more subdued, and did not convey that suggestion of savage exultation that had been the dominant note of the other, and I also now noticed that the deafening clamour of horns and thumping of tom-toms had ceased. The idea conveyed to my mind was that one act in a drama of absorbing interest had closed and that another was about to open. But I had no time for further observation, as the general now came up with the men, and we at once proceeded to make our final arrangements for an instant attack. "Now, lads," said I, "you see those hundreds of dancing savages. I want you to plant your rockets in such a manner that they will rake through the whole crowd; and if they should finish up by setting fire to the huts, so much the better. Fire the rockets, one after another, as rapidly as possible, and the moment that the last rocket has been fired we will spring out into the open and make a dash for those posts, to which I believe we shall find the missing men secured. Use your cutlasses as freely as may be needful, but reserve your pistols for an emergency. Then, having cut our men loose, we must all retire in a body to the boat, and get out of the creek as quickly as possible. Now, are you all ready? Then begin to fire the rockets." With a preliminary sizzle, and a strong odour of burning powder, the twelve rockets tore, weirdly screaming, in rapid succession, out of the clump of bush into the thick of the crowd of dancing savages, ricochetting hither and thither as they encountered some obstacle, scattering showers of fire in every direction, and finally exploding with a loud report many of them having previously embedded themselves in the dry thatch of the huts. The effect of the discharge was tremendous and cumulative! As the first rocket plunged into the throng a sudden silence ensued, and every savage stood death-still, gazing with eyes of horror upon the hissing fiery thing as it darted hither and thither inflicting painful burns and bruises wherever it went. Then, long before the first had run its course, the second was also among them, playing similar antics, and working havoc like the first; and then out swooped the third at them, driving the whole party crazy with terror, and producing a state of utterly indescribable confusion. As the fourth rocket tore out of the midst of the belt of bush a general yell of dismay arose, and then ensued a regular stampede, the natives knocking down and falling over each other in their frenzied efforts to escape from the onslaught of the fiery monsters. Before the last rocket had sped there was not a savage to be seen, the whole swarm of them, down to the children even, having somehow managed to make their escape into the adjacent bush, from which their cries of terror could still be heard proceeding, while several of the huts were already bursting into flame. In the midst of the deserted open space the eleven upright stakes were now plainly visible; four of them, alas! black and half-consumed with fire, with great heaps of still smouldering and faintly smoking ashes-- in the midst of which were discernible the calcined fragments of human skeletons--around their bases, while to each of the other seven was bound the naked body of a white man! "Now, forward, lads!" cried I, dashing into the open with drawn sword in my hand. "Cut loose those seven men, and then form up ready for a retreat to the boat. If we are quick we may do all that we came to do before the savages return." It was but a run of a few hundred yards from the bush to the posts, and in another minute we were around them, cutting and hacking at the multitudinous coils of tough creeper which bound the prisoners to the posts; and in another couple of minutes the last man had been released. Dazed and speechless at the suddenness of their deliverance from a lingering death of frightful torment, such as they had beheld inflicted upon four of their unfortunate companions, the rescued mutineers were being hurried down to the boat. To bundle them in pell-mell, scramble in ourselves, and shove off was the work of but a few brief minutes; and presently we found ourselves once more in the creek, with our bows pointed river-ward, and eight men straining at the oars as we swept foaming past the interminable array of mangroves, with their gaunt roots, like the legs of gigantic spiders sprawling out into the black, foul-smelling water. "Well," exclaimed the general, taking off his Panama hat and mopping his perspiring head and face with a huge red-silk handkerchief, "that is a good job well done, and without the loss of a man, too--except, of course, the unfortunate four that we were too late to save. You have managed the affair exceedingly well, young sir, as I shall be happy to bear witness at another time and place. I have somehow--I don't quite know why--had a sort of prejudice against the navy; but a service which trains youngsters like yourself to do such work as I have seen done to- day can't be wholly bad." "Bad, sir!" I exclaimed. "The navy bad? Why, on the contrary, although perhaps it is not absolutely perfect, it is the most glorious service that a man can possibly enter, and I am proud to belong to it. [See note.] But we must not crow yet over our success. Those savages will probably be rallying by this time, since they find that they are not being pursued, and if they should choose to follow us along the banks of the creek they may yet make us smart for our boldness." "Ay," agreed the general, "they may; but somehow I don't fancy that they will. Those rockets seemed to frighten them pretty well out of their skins, and I don't believe that they will get over their terror in a hurry. By Jove, sir, that was a brilliant idea of yours--those rockets!" Meanwhile the rescued men were crouching in the bottom of the boat, silent, some of them with their faces buried in their hands, some lying back as though dazed, with their eyes closed. And one of these last, I noticed, had the fingers of his two hands locked together, and his lips were moving, as though he prayed, or were returning thanks to God for his deliverance. Presently he opened his eyes, and his gaze met mine full. I noticed that he flushed slightly, as though ashamed at having been detected, so I nodded to him and said: "No need to be ashamed, my good fellow, if you were thanking God for His mercy. We have, every one of us, abundant reason to be thankful to- day." "Yes, sir," said he, "and I even more, perhaps, than the rest. They was makin' ready to begin upon me when you broke in upon 'em." And therewith he burst into a violently hysterical passion of tears, the result, doubtless, of the reaction arising from his sudden and unexpected rescue from the horrors of a death from protracted torment, such as he had witnessed in the case of the other four. For it now appeared that--without harrowing the reader's feelings by entering into unnecessary details--the sufferings of one or two of the unfortunate men must have been prolonged to the extent of quite three hours. The ringleader, Tonkin, had been, singularly enough, the man who had been subjected to certain peculiar refinements of torture which, while inflicting what one could readily conceive would be the most excruciating agony, were not of a nature to produce death save by the long-drawn-out process of physical exhaustion. We spoke such comforting words to the poor creatures as we could think of, at the same time not forgetting to administer a little much-needed stimulant and food. The production of the latter reminded us all that we felt atrociously hungry and thirsty, and as soon as we were safely clear of the creek and once more in the main channel of the river, we fell to upon the basket of provisions that Briggs had so thoughtfully provided for our refreshment. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note: What would Grenvile have thought of the much more perfect service of the present day, I wonder?--H.C. CHAPTER NINE. A NIGHT ATTACK. We arrived safely alongside the ship just as the sun was dipping beneath the western horizon, to the great relief and joy of those whom we had left on board, and we learned with much satisfaction that nothing whatever of an alarming character had transpired during our long absence. The occupants of the cuddy were very naturally anxious to be furnished with the fullest details of our afternoon's adventure; but I left the telling of that to the general, and retired below to indulge in the luxury of a good wash and a complete change of clothing before sitting down to dinner. That the tragic occurrences of the day had put an effectual end to the mutiny was, of course, a foregone conclusion, and I was not at all surprised to learn that, within a quarter of an hour of our return, the men--having doubtless consulted together in the forecastle--had come aft in a body to express to Carter their contrition for their insubordinate behaviour, and to request that they might be allowed to turn-to again, at the same time giving the most elaborate assurances of good behaviour in the future. As a matter of fact it soon became perfectly clear that there would never have been a mutiny at all but for Tonkin, who was its sole instigator, as well as the murderer of the unfortunate Captain Williams, who had provoked the turbulent boatswain to the highest pitch of exasperation by his alternations of jovial good-fellowship with truculent arrogance of demeanour. Poor Carter seemed to find it a little difficult to make up his mind how to deal with the matter, as he confessed to me somewhat later that same evening; but I pointed out to him that, the chief offender having been removed, there was exceedingly small likelihood of any recurrence of insubordination, especially as the men had really nothing to complain of, either in their treatment or in the matter of their food. Looked at after the event, the outbreak wore very much the appearance of an impulsive act on the part of the men, skilfully engineered by Tonkin for some evil purpose of his own, now effectually frustrated. I therefore advised Carter to let them resume duty, with the distinct understanding that upon their own behaviour during the remainder of the voyage would it depend whether or not they were called to account for their disastrous act of insubordination. These arguments of mine, coupled with the hint that we should need the services of all hands to protect the ship--should the natives take it into their heads to attack her--and also to get her afloat again, convinced him; and he at once had them aft and spoke to them in the terms which I had suggested. But although the ugly and awkward incident of the mutiny was ended we were by no means "out of the wood", for the ship was still hard-and-fast aground--having apparently run upon the sandbank on the top of a springtide--and it looked more than likely that it would be necessary to lighten her considerably before we could hope to get her afloat again. Meanwhile there were the savages to be kept in mind. Had our lesson of the afternoon brought home to them a good, wholesome realisation of the danger of meddling with white men? or had it, on the other hand, only inflamed them against us, and made them resolve to wreak a terrible revenge? The question was one which we felt it impossible to answer, and meanwhile all that we could do, while in our present helpless condition, was to keep a bright look-out, night and day, and to hold ourselves ready for any emergency. Needless to say, Carter and I both took especial care to see that there was no slackness or negligence on the part of the anchor-watch that night, the whole of the duty being undertaken by my own men, while I was up and about at frequent intervals all through the night. But the hours of darkness passed uneventfully, and when dawn appeared there had been neither sight nor sign of savages anywhere near the ship. At six o'clock that morning the usual routine of duty was resumed on board, the hands being turned up to wash-decks and generally perform the ship's toilet before breakfast, and I noticed with satisfaction, as I went forward to get my usual shower-bath under the head-pump, that Carter had caused the four prisoners to be released from the fore-peak. I believed that the rest of the hands might now be safely trusted to keep that quartette in order. Immediately after breakfast in the forecastle the hands were again turned up, and a good stout hawser was bent on to the kedge anchor, which was then lowered down into the longboat and run away out broad on the ship's port quarter. The other end of the hawser was then led forward along the poop and main-deck to the windlass, which we believed would be better able than the capstan to withstand the strain that we intended to put upon it. This done, the hawser was hove taut, and the main hatch was then lifted and a quantity of cargo was hoisted out and deposited in the longboat alongside, all the other boats also being lowered into the water. By the time that the longboat was as deep as she would swim it was close upon high-water, and the men were then sent to the windlass with orders to endeavour to get another pawl or two. This they succeeded in doing, the ship's quarter being by this time slewed so far off the sandbank that she now lay, with regard to the general run of it, at an angle of nearly forty-five degrees; and then the windlass positively refused to turn any further, even to the extent of a single pawl. The men therefore left it, as we felt that nothing was to be gained by snapping the hawser, which was now strained to the utmost limit of its endurance. The fully-loaded longboat was now dropped astern, and the longboat of the _Dolores_, in which we had been picked up, and which, it will be remembered, Carter had felt impelled to hoist inboard--was brought alongside in her place, and she, too, was loaded as deeply as it was safe to venture. It was noon by this time, the tide had turned, the ship remained immovable, and the men's dinner- hour had arrived; the second longboat was therefore dropped astern, and the hands knocked off for their midday meal. In addition to her longboat the _Indian Queen_ carried a jolly-boat, a dinghy, and four very fine, roomy gigs, two of which hung in davits in the wake of the mizzen rigging while the other two were supported on a gallows that stood abaft the mainmast. It will be seen, therefore, that, even apart from the longboat and gig of the _Dolores_, this ship was very well supplied with boats, only two of which--the two longboats--were thus far loaded. The gigs, although they were of course of much smaller capacity than the longboats, and having fixed thwarts were not so adaptable for the purpose of temporarily receiving cargo, were nevertheless capable of being made very good use of, and in the afternoon they were brought alongside and loaded one after another, until all four of the ship's own gigs were as deep in the water as it was prudent to put them, when they also were dropped astern, leaving only the dinghy, and the gig of the _Dolores_, unutilised. The dinghy, of course, was too small to be of any use as a temporary receptacle of cargo, and I felt that it would be unwise to deprive ourselves of the services of the remaining gig for other purposes. I therefore decided, in conjunction with Carter, that if it should prove necessary to lighten the ship still further, we would discharge the two longboats on to the sandbank--a considerable area of which remained dry even at high-water-- and then strike another cargo down into the empty boats. But as it was by this time within half an hour of sunset, and the men had been working very hard all day, we arranged to let them knock off and, after clearing up the decks and replacing the hatches, to take a good rest, in view of the possibility that we might be obliged to call upon them during the night, should the savages elect to become troublesome. Night fell calm and gracious upon the scene, the air breathless, and the sky without a cloud, but with a thin strip of new moon hanging in the western sky in the wake of the vanished sun. The anchor-watch was set, and by the time that I had taken a bath and changed my clothes the dinner-hour had arrived, and we all gathered round the "hospitable board" which Briggs and his satellites had prepared for us. Everybody was in the best of spirits, for the men had not only worked well but had also displayed a very manifest desire to eradicate, by their behaviour, the bad impression that had been produced by their recent lamentable lapse from the path of rectitude. Excellent progress had also been made in the task of lightening the ship, and, finally, the savages had shown no disposition to interfere with us. There was consequently a good deal of lively chatter during the progress of the meal, and when it was over the piano was opened and we had some very excellent music. The ladies having retired, I rose to go out on deck and take a final look round ere I turned in; but before I went I thought it desirable to say a word or two of caution. "Gentlemen," said I, "we have just come to the end of a very delightful evening, and I hope that you will all enjoy an unbroken night's rest. There is no reason, so far as I can see, why you should not; but we must none of us forget that, so long as the ship remains where she now is, she is exposed to the possibility of attack by the savages. Therefore, while I do not ask you to keep a watch, or even to remain awake, I strongly urge you to keep your weapons beside you, ready loaded, so that if, by any unfortunate chance, it should be necessary for us to call upon you to assist in defending the ship, you may be able to respond without delay." "Umph!" grunted the general. "Better tell us exactly what you mean, Grenvile. We are all men here, so you can speak quite plainly. Have you observed anything to-day indicative of a disposition on the part of the natives to attack us?" "No, general, I have not," said I, "and I know of no reason why we should not have a perfectly quiet and undisturbed night's rest as we did last night. I merely thought it advisable to give you a word of warning, because I know the natives all along this coast to be treacherous in the extreme, and very much given to doing precisely what you least expect them to do. Beyond that I see no cause whatever for uneasiness, believe me. Good-night, gentlemen, sound sleep and pleasant dreams to you." When I stepped out on deck I found that the character of the weather had changed during the three hours or so that I had spent in the cuddy. The young moon had, of course, set some time before; the sky had grown overcast and seemed to be threatening rain; the clouds were sweeping up from about south-south-west, and a light breeze, that seemed likely to freshen, was blowing from that direction, driving great masses of chill, wet fog along before it of so dense a character that it was scarcely possible to make out the foremast from the head of the poop-ladder. Altogether it threatened to be a distinctly unpleasant night for the unfortunate men whose duty it would be to keep a look-out through the hours of darkness. Carter, in a thick pilot-cloth jacket, was walking to and fro on the poop, with a short pipe stuck in the corner of his mouth, when I joined him. "Hullo, Carter," I said, "this is a change of weather with a vengeance! When did it happen?" "Why," answered Carter, "the fog closed in upon us just after sunset, the same as it has done every night since we've been here; but the breeze has only sprung up within the last half-hour. Looks as though 'twas going to freshen too." "So I think," said I. "How is it coming? Broad off the starboard bow, isn't it?" "Yes; about that," agreed Carter. "And the tide is rising, is it not?" I continued, the freshening breeze having suggested an idea to me which I in turn wished to suggest to my companion. "Ay, risin' fast," answered he. "It'll be high-water about midnight, I reckon." "Just so," I agreed. The idea which I wished to suggest to him had clearly not yet dawned upon him--although it ought to have done so without any need of a hint from me,--so, without further beating about the bush, I said: "Now, don't you think, Carter, that, with this nice little breeze blowing from precisely the right direction, it would be quite worth while to loose and set the square canvas and--" "Throw it all aback," he cut in as at last he caught my idea. "Why, of course I do, Mr Grenvile, and thank'e for the hint. It'd be a precious sight more helpful than the kedge, and I'll have it done at once." And he started to go forward to call the men. "What about your cables?" said I. "Have you got them bent and an anchor ready to let go if she should happen to back off the bank?" "No," said he, coming to a halt again. "We've been so busy with one thing and another, you know. But I'll have it done as soon as we've got the canvas on her." "Better do that first, hadn't you?" I suggested. "I wouldn't trust the kedge to hold her in a breeze with all her square canvas set." "N-o, perhaps not," he agreed dubiously. "Well, then, I'll get the port cable bent and the anchor a-cockbill ready for lettin' go before touchin' the canvas. How would that be?" "Much the safest, I think," said I. "But let us both go for'ard and see what is the exact state of affairs there. And what is the state of the hawser? Ah, still quite taut!" as I tested its tension with my foot. Arrived upon the forecastle we found both anchors stowed inboard and the cables below; but, all hands being called, including the _Shark's_, we made short work of the business, for while one gang went below and cleared away the cable, another roused it up on deck and rove it through the hawse-pipe, ready for bending, and a third got the anchor outboard. Then, while Jones, the _Shark's_ boatswain's mate, and his party bent the cable and got everything ready for letting go, in case of need, Carter's men climbed into the rigging, and, beginning at the topgallant- sails, loosed all the square canvas, overhauled the gear, and saw everything clear for sheeting home and hoisting away. To set the canvas and trim the yards aback was now the work of but a few minutes, and it was soon done, with the immediate result that the ship, from having a slight list to starboard, came upright, with just the slightest possible tendency to heel to port. "Now, Mr Carter," said I, "the ship's bilge is no longer bearing upon the sand. I think, therefore, that if I were you I would send all hands to the windlass, and let them endeavour to get another pawl or two. That canvas is doing good work up there, and it may be that if we helped it a bit with a pull on the hawser she would come off." "Ay," agreed Carter; "so she might, and we'll try it. Man the windlass, lads, and see if you can move her at all. Half an hour's work now may get the ship afloat, and so save ye a good many hours breakin' out cargo to-morrow." "Ay, ay, sir!" answered the men, cheerfully enough, considering that they had been awakened out of a sound sleep and dragged out of their warm bunks to come up and work in the chill, pestilential fog after having worked hard all day. "Tail on to the handles, my bullies, tail on and heave. Heave, and raise the dead!" shouted the man Mike, who had been one of the lucky five to escape capture by the savages. They got their first pawl easily enough, then another, and another, by which time the hawser was once more as taut as a bar. But, as I lightly rested my foot upon it, to test its tautness, I felt it very gradually slackening, which meant one of two things, either that the kedge was coming home--which I thought improbable--or that the ship was very slowly sliding off the bank. So I cried to the men, who had desisted from their efforts for fear of parting the hawser: "There she gives! Heave away again, lads, and keep a steady strain on the hawser. It wants half an hour yet to high-water." The men again threw their weight alternately upon the levers, and once more the great pawl clanked once, twice, thrice; then a long pause and another clank, then a further pause. But my foot was still on the hawser, and I felt that it was steadily, although very slowly, yielding, and there was a moment when I could almost have sworn that I felt the ship jerk ever so slightly sternward. So I ventured to stimulate the men a little further. "Hurrah, lads," I cried, "there she moves! Hang to her! One complete turn of the windlass and she's all your own! Heave again." "Heave!" responded the men hoarsely, flinging their whole weight upon the elevated lever, while those opposite grasped the corresponding depressed handle, and, gripping the deck with their naked toes, bent their backs and bore upward until every muscle in their straining bodies cracked again; and "clank-clank" spoke the pawl again, and yet again "clank". Then, after another long, heaving and straining pause, "clank" again, a shorter pause and again "clank--clank--clank"; and then, as the men struggled and fought desperately with the stubborn windlass, the ship jerked perceptibly twice, the pawls spoke in quicker succession, the ship surged again, and with a wild hurrah from the men, as the levers suddenly yielded to them and began to leap rapidly up and down, the _Indian Queen_ gathered way and slid off into deep-water. "Well there with the windlass!" cried Carter delightedly. "Let go your to'gallant and topsail halyards and sheets; man your clewlines; fore and main clew-garnets. Stand by to let go the anchor!" "Ay, ay, sir!" was the response from the topgallant forecastle. "All ready with the anchor. Stand clear of the cable!" Meanwhile the merchant crew were clewing up and hauling down to the accompaniment of the usual cries. What, therefore, with Carter's commands, the seaman's calls, and the violent flinging down of ropes upon the deck, there was a very considerable uproar going on upon deck, and I was not at all surprised when the general, clad in a dressing- gown, emerged from below with his sword in one hand and his pistol in the other, to enquire what all the racket was about. I explained the situation to him, and he was expressing his great gratification at the fact that the ship had been got afloat again, when Carter gave the order to let go the anchor. "All gone, sir," answered Jones as a heavy splash sounded under the ship's bows, instantly followed by a yell of: "A large canoe--two of 'em--three--four--there's a whole fleet of canoes closing in round us, sir." "Where away?" demanded I, unceremoniously breaking away from the general and dashing forward to the topgallant forecastle, up the ladder of which I scrambled with considerable loss of shin-leather. "There, sir, d'ye see 'em?" responded Jones, sweeping his arm in a wide circle as he pointed into the fog wreaths that were whirling round us. The fog and the darkness together rendered it extremely difficult to see anything, but by dint of peering I at length distinguished several shapeless dark blotches at a distance of about fifty fathoms from the ship, arranged apparently in the form of a wide semicircle on the side of her opposite to that on which lay the sandbank. Jones, however, was not quite right in his statement that they were closing in upon us, for they appeared to be lying quite stationary, or at least were only paddling just sufficiently to avoid being swept away by the sluggish tide that was running. But there was very little doubt in my mind that we had very narrowly escaped an ugly surprise, and I was by no means certain that we might not yet look to be attacked. My view of the situation was that the natives had gathered about us in the hope that, in the fog and darkness, they might be able to steal alongside and climb aboard in such overwhelming numbers as to secure possession of the deck and overpower us by taking us by surprise, and that they had been restrained from making the attempt only by the sounds of bustle and activity that had accompanied our endeavours to get the ship afloat. "Lay down from aloft all hands at once!" shouted I, sending my voice pealing up through the fog to the figures that were to be dimly-seen sprawling on the yards and dragging at the heavy festoons of canvas. "And you, Jones, find me a musket as smartly as you can." "Musket, sir? Ay, ay, sir! here's one," answered the man, fishing one out from some hiding place and thrusting it into my hand. Lifting the piece to my shoulder I levelled it in the direction where the canoes seemed to be congregated most thickly, and, aiming so as to send the bullet flying pretty close over the heads of the savages, pulled the trigger. I distinctly heard the "plop" of the bullet as it struck the water, but beyond that all was as still as death. Meanwhile, at my call, the men aloft had come sliding down the backstays and were now mustering on the fore-deck awaiting further instructions. And at the same moment the general came forward to announce that he had quietly called the men passengers, who would be on deck in a moment, bringing their firearms with them. "I will place myself at their head, Grenvile," he said, "and if you will tell me how we can most helpfully assist you I will see to the details of any task that you may assign to us." "A thousand thanks, general," answered I. "You, perhaps, cannot do better than muster your men on the poop, and if you detect any disposition on the part of the canoes to close in upon the ship, fire into them without hesitation. This is no time for half-measures; we must deal decisively and firmly with those fellows, or we shall find ourselves in a very awkward predicament." "Right; I agree with you there, and you will not find us wanting, I hope," responded Sir Thomas, as he turned to walk away aft. "Simpson, San Domingo, and Beardmore, come up here on the topgallant forecastle," called I; and at the call up came the men, with the inevitable answer of "Ay, ay, sir!" "Simpson," said I, "I want you and San Domingo to take charge of this port carronade, while you, Jones and Beardmore, attend to the starboard one. The ship has now swung to her anchor, and is lying fairly steady; so when once you have trained the pieces they will not need much alteration. Run them both close up to the rail, and depress the muzzles so that the discharge will strike the water at a distance of about fifty yards, which will afford room for the charge to spread nicely. If a canoe approaches within that distance, fire upon her. I will arrange for more ammunition to be sent to you at once." I then descended to the main-deck, and, finding Carter, arranged with him that he should descend to the magazine with one of my men, who could be trusted to be careful, and send up an ample supply of ammunition. This done, my next act was to range the crew of the ship along the main- deck, port and starboard sides, with muskets in their hands, giving them strict injunctions to fire upon any canoe that they might see attempting to approach the ship. All these arrangements, which have taken a considerable time to describe, really occupied but two or three minutes, during which not a sound of any description had come from the canoes, which, however, could occasionally be caught sight of, dimly showing when the mist wreaths thinned for a moment. Meanwhile, our own dispositions being complete, a tense silence reigned throughout the ship, broken only by an occasional low muttered word from one man to another. Suddenly a shrill whistle pealed out from somewhere in the fog away on our port hand, followed, the next instant, by a thin, whirring sound in the air all about the ship, accompanied by sharp, crisp thuds here and there along the bulwarks, and a thin, reedy pattering on the decks. An object of some sort fell close to my feet, and, upon groping for it, I found that it was an arrow. At the same moment a loud, fierce, discordant yell burst out all round the ship, and the rattling splash of innumerable paddles dashed into the water, reached our ears. "Here they come; here they come!" cried the men, and a musket flashed out of the darkness down in the waist of the ship. "Steady, lads; steady!" cried I. "Don't fire until you can see what you are firing at, and take good aim before you pull the trigger!" But at that moment a whole host of canoes came dashing at us out of the fog and darkness, and a sharp, irregular volley of musketry rattled out fore and aft, in the midst of which bang! bang! rang out the carronades, almost simultaneously. The discharge was immediately followed by a most fearful outcry of shrieks and groans, and two large canoes, which had received the contents of the carronades, paused in their rush, and went drifting slowly past us on the tide, heaped with the motionless bodies of their crews, and in a sinking condition. But this in nowise checked the rush of the other canoes, which came foaming toward us, with half their crews plying their paddles, while the other half maintained a fierce fire with their bows and arrows. "Reload those carronades on the forecastle," cried I, "and then train them to rake the main-deck, fore and aft. Half of you in the waist retreat to the topgallant forecastle, the other half to the poop, and defend those two positions to the last gasp. Let me know when those carronades are ready, and be careful so to depress their muzzles that none of the charge will reach the poop." So saying I made a dash for the main-deck entrance of the saloon, which I locked, slipping the key into my pocket. Then I followed the rest of the party up on to the poop, and bade them pull the two poop-ladders up after them. The poop and topgallant forecastle thus formed two citadels, of a sort, capable of being pretty fairly defended, except in the face of an overwhelming force. "Now, lads," cried I, "load your muskets again, and pepper the savages as they swarm in over the bulwarks; and if we cannot turn back the rush by that means, I look to you, Simpson and Jones, to sweep the main-deck clear with the carronades. But do not fire them until you see that it is absolutely necessary in order to save the ship. Here they come; now, lads, stand by!" As the last words left my lips the leading canoes dashed alongside, and the next instant some thirty or forty savages could be seen scrambling over the bulwarks and leaping down on the main-deck. They seemed somewhat disconcerted at finding no one to oppose them, and paused irresolutely as though not quite knowing what to do, and perhaps fearing a trap of some sort. Meanwhile others came close upon their heels; while the general and his volunteers suddenly found their hands full in repelling an attack upon the poop by way of the mizzen chains. As for that part of the crew that had retired to the poop at my order, I formed them up along the fore end of the structure; and now, as, one after another, they reloaded their muskets, they and their comrades on the topgallant-forecastle opened a brisk, if somewhat irregular, fire upon the multitude of savages who came pouring in over the bulwarks into the waist of the ship. By the light of the musketry flashes I saw several of the savages throw up their arms and fall to the deck--so many of them, indeed, in proportion to the number of shots fired, that I felt convinced many of the bullets must be doing double or triple duty. But for every savage who fell at least half a dozen fresh ones came in over the bulwarks to take his place, and I soon recognised that such musketry fire as ours must be absolutely ineffectual to deal with the overwhelming odds brought against us. And how warmly I congratulated myself that I had not been foolish enough to attempt anything like a systematic defence of the waist of the ship. Had I done that we should have all been exterminated within the first minute of the attack. As it was we were doing very well--at our end of the ship, at all events; for although the savages quickly recovered themselves after the first moment of astonishment at finding nobody on the main-deck to oppose them, and began to pour in a hot fire of arrows, not one of our party--who were somewhat scattered, and were all lying down, most of them behind some sort of shelter--was hit. By the time that the attack had been raging some five minutes, however, there must have been quite three hundred savages crowded on the main- deck, between the poop and the topgallant forecastle, and the affair began to wear a very serious aspect for us defenders; for by this time the blacks were making desperate efforts to climb up on to the poop and carry it by escalade, and a few of us had sustained more or less serious hurts in resisting them. The critical moment, when we must either conquer or go under, was close upon us, and I was about to call to Simpson to ask whether they were ready on the forecastle with the carronades, when his voice rose above the din, hailing: "Poop ahoy! Look out there, aft, for we're goin' to fire. We can't hold out here another half a minute." "Very well," I answered, "fire as soon as you like; the sooner the better!" And I then added: "Jump to your feet, everybody on the poop, and run as far aft as you can, or shelter yourselves behind the companion or skylight--anywhere, until they have fired the carronades!" We had just time to make good our rush for shelter--leaving the natives who were endeavouring to storm the poop evidently much astonished at our sudden and inexplicable retreat--when the two carronades barked out simultaneously; and the terrific hubbub of shouts and yells down in the waist ceased as though by magic, to be succeeded the next instant by surely the most dreadful outburst of screams and groans that human ears had ever listened to. The carnage, I knew, must have been terrific, but it would not do to trust to the effect of that alone, we must instantly follow it up by action of some sort that would complete the panic already begun; so I shouted: "Hurrah, lads; now down on the main-deck, all of us, and drive the remainder of the savages over the side before they have had time to recover from their dismay!" And, seizing hold of the first rope that came to hand, I swung myself off the poop down on the main-deck, and began to lay about me right and left with my sword, the remainder of our party, fore and aft, instantly following my example. For a few seconds the savages who still stood on their feet--and how very few there seemed to be of them!--appeared to be too completely dazed by what had happened to take any steps to secure their safety; they even allowed themselves to be shot and struck down without raising a hand to defend themselves! Then, all in a moment, their senses seemed to return to them, and the panic upon which I had reckoned took place; they glanced about them and saw, that, whereas a minute before the deck upon which they stood had been crowded with a surging throng of excited fellow savages all striving to get within reach of those hated white men, it was now heaped and cumbered with dead and dying, with only a stray uninjured man left here and there; and incontinently, with shrill yells of terror, they made for the bulwarks and tumbled over them, careless, apparently, whether they dropped into a canoe or into the water, so long as they could effect their escape from that awful shambles. Many of them, of course, dropped into the canoes, and made good their escape; but the splashing and commotion alongside, and the frequent shrieks of agony, told only too plainly that many of them, in their haste, had missed the canoes and fallen into the water, where the sharks were making short work of them. As for us, as soon as the panic set in, and the retreat was fairly under way, we held our hands, allowing the poor wretches to get away without further molestation; and in two minutes from the moment of that terrible discharge of the carronades not a native remained on the deck of the _Indian Queen_ save those who were either dead, or too severely injured to be able to escape. CHAPTER TEN. I REJOIN THE "SHARK." As soon as all the savages who could leave the ship had gone, we roused out as many lanterns as we could muster, lighted them, and hung them in the fore and main rigging, or stood them here and there along the rail, preparatory to going the rounds of the deck and beginning the gruesome task of separating the dead from the wounded. And, while this was doing, the general, who claimed to possess some knowledge of surgery, retired to the main saloon, and having roused out Mrs Jenkins and her daughter Patsy, and impressed them into his service as assistants, proceeded to help Burgess to attend to the wounded of our own party, of whom I was one, an arrow having transfixed me through the left shoulder so effectually that the barbed point projected out at my back. I had received the wound a moment before the discharge of the carronades, and had been scarcely conscious of the hurt at the moment; but a man cannot plunge into the thick of a melee with an arrow through his shoulder and not know something about it, sooner or later; and the hurt had quickly become very painful and inflamed. The doctor declared that mine was the worst case of all, and insisted that I should for that reason be the first treated; I therefore submitted, with a good grace--for there were many matters calling for my immediate attention; and in a few minutes the head of the arrow was carefully cut off, the shaft withdrawn from the wound, and the wound itself carefully washed and dressed. Then, with my arm in a sling, and my jacket loosely buttoned round my neck, I went out on deck to see how matters were proceeding there. Only seventeen living bodies were found among the prostrate heaps with which the decks were cumbered. These seventeen, after Burgess had done what he could for them, we placed in one of the many empty canoes that still remained alongside the ship, and towed the craft into the river, where we moored her in such a position that she would be likely to attract the attention of the natives, and thus lead to an investigation of her, and the rescue of her cargo of wounded, which was as much as we could do without exposing ourselves to very grave--and, to my mind, quite unnecessary risk. This, however, was not done until the return of daylight enabled us to see what we were about. The dead having been got rid of, and our own wounded attended to, all hands turned in to secure a little very necessary rest, the deck being left in charge of an anchor-watch consisting of Messrs. Acutt, Boyne, Pearson, and Taylor, who very kindly volunteered to see to the safety of the ship during the few remaining hours of darkness, pointing out that it would be perfectly easy for them to rest during the day, while the crew of the ship were engaged in doing what was necessary to enable us to make an early start from the spot which had brought so much adventure into the lives of all, and had been so disastrous to some of our little community. At daylight all hands were called, and the first work undertaken was the removal, as far as possible, of all traces of the preceding night's conflict. By dint of hard labour we at length succeeded in so far effacing the stains that the ordinary eye would scarcely be likely to identify them as what they really were, which was, at all events, something gained. There were other marks, however, which it was impossible to obliterate, such as the scoring of the deck planks and the pitting of the mahogany and maple woodwork forming the fore bulkhead of the poop by bullets which had formed part of the charges of the two carronades when they were fired to rake the main-deck; and these we were obliged to leave as they were. Having succeeded in thus far straightening up matters that the lady passengers could venture on deck without too violent a shock to their susceptibilities, the hands knocked off to go to breakfast. The meal over, the kedge was weighed and stowed, and then the boats were brought alongside, one after another, and the process of striking cargo back into the hold was vigorously proceeded with. This work was of course done by the ship's crew under Carter's supervision, and I and my own little party of men thus had an opportunity at last to treat ourselves to a much-needed rest. Indeed, so far as I was concerned, Burgess insisted that I should at once turn in, and remain in my bunk until he should give me leave to rise, or, in such a climate as this, he would not be answerable for my life! As a matter of fact I had already begun to realise that, with the pain of my wounded shoulder, and exhaustion arising from want of sleep, I could not hold out much longer; and I felt more than thankful that, after the hot reception we had given the natives, there was not much probability of any further fighting. I therefore gladly retired to my cabin and, having swallowed a composing draught which Burgess mixed for me, slept until the following morning, when I felt so much better that the worthy medico rather reluctantly consented to my rising in time to sit down with the rest to tiffin. That same evening, by dint of hard work, the crew succeeded in completing the stowage of the last of the cargo, securing the hatches, and hoisting in the boats before knocking off; and somewhat later, that is to say about three bells in the second dogwatch, Carter availed himself of the springing up of the land breeze to lift his anchor and stand out to sea under easy canvas. On the following morning, when I went on deck, the _Indian Queen_ was out of sight of land and standing to the southward under all plain sail, with nothing in sight but the heads of the topsails of a brig which, hull-down in the south-western quarter, was stretching in toward the coast, close-hauled on the port tack. We took very little notice of this craft at the time, for she was then too far distant to show much of herself, even when viewed through the ship's telescope, while her yards were so braced that only the edges of her sails presented themselves to our view; but, remembering our recent experiences with a brig at a spot not very far distant from where we then were, I strongly advised Carter to keep a wary eye upon her movements. The land breeze was then fast dying away, and I thought it quite possible that we might have an opportunity to see a little more of the stranger when the sea breeze should set in. That same sea breeze set in while we in the cuddy were sitting down to breakfast; and when, after the meal was over, we all adjourned to the poop, I found Carter regarding the stranger with some little uneasiness through the telescope. As I joined him he handed me the instrument, saying: "Just take a squint at her, Mr Grenvile, and tell me what you think of her. To my mind she seems to be steering in such a way as to close with us, and I should like to have your opinion upon her." I accordingly took the instrument, and soon had the stranger sharply focused in the lenses. She was then broad on our starboard bow, and was still hull-down, but she had risen just to the foot of her fore course, which was set, while the mainsail hung in its clewlines and buntlines, and was running down with squared yards, but had no studding-sails set. And, as Carter had remarked, she seemed to be steering in such a manner as to intercept us. She was a brig of about the same tonnage as the _Shark_, of which craft she somehow reminded me sufficiently to invite a closer and more detailed scrutiny, and presently I was able to make out that she flew a pennant; she was consequently a man-o'-war. It is true that the _Shark_ was not the only brig on the West African station: the British had two others, and we knew of three under the French pennant; but the craft in sight was not French--I could swear to that--and the longer I looked at her the more firmly convinced did I become that she was none other than the dear old _Shark_ herself. I could not be absolutely certain of her identity until her hull should heave up clear of the horizon, but that jaunty steeve of bowsprit and the hoist and spread of those topsails were all very strongly suggestive of the _Shark_. As I lowered the glass from my eye I happened to glance forward, and caught sight of Jones and Simpson seated forward on the topgallant forecastle, smoking their pipes as they animatedly discussed some topic of absorbing interest, and, catching their eyes, I beckoned them to come aft to the poop. "Take this telescope, Jones, and have a good look at that brig," said I, as they climbed the poop-ladder, hat in hand; "then pass the instrument to Simpson, and let him do the same. Then tell me what you both think of her." The two men took the instrument, one after the other, and ogled the stranger through it with the greatest intentness; but I could see clearly that, even before Simpson took over the instrument from the boatswain's mate, the latter had already arrived at a pretty definite conclusion with regard to her. "Well," said I, when at length Simpson had ended his scrutiny and handed back the instrument to me, "what do you think of her?" "Why, sir," answered Simpson, "if she ain't the _Shark_ she's own sister to her; that's all I can say." "And you, Jones, what is your opinion?" I asked. "Why, just the same as the carpenter's, sir," answered Jones. "She's the _Shark_, right enough. I knows the steeve o' that bowsprit too well to be mistook as to what that brig is. She's the _Shark_; and we shall have the pleasure of slingin' our hammicks aboard of her to-night!" "I verily believe you are right," said I. "At all events we shall know for certain in the course of another half-hour; and meanwhile you can do no harm by going forward and passing the word for the _Sharks_ to have everything ready for shifting over, should our surmise prove to be correct." "So you really think that yonder brig is your own ship?" remarked Carter, when the two men had gone forward again. "Well, if it should prove to be so, I shall be very sorry to lose you, and so will all of us." "Lose! Lose whom? I hope we are not going to lose anybody. We have already had losses enough, this voyage, goodness knows!" exclaimed the general, emerging from the companion at that moment. He had evidently caught a word or two of what Carter had been saying, and wanted to know all about it. "Why, Sir Thomas, Mr Grenvile believes that brig yonder to be his own ship, the _Shark_," answered Carter. "And if it turns out that he's right, of course he and his men will be rejoinin' directly. And I was just sayin' that we shall all be very sorry to lose him." "Sorry! by George I should say so!" cut in the general. "It would have been a precious bad job for everybody in this ship if we had not been lucky enough to pick up him and his men. Why, sir, we should, every man jack of us, have been dead as mutton by this time. So you think that craft yonder is your ship, do you?" he continued, turning to me. "Well, if she is, you will have to join her--that goes without saying. But Carter here speaks no more than the truth when he says that we shall all be very sorry to lose you--I know that I shall be. And if it should be that we must say good-bye to you now, that must not be the end of our acquaintance, you know; that will never do. You and I have fought side by side, my boy, and I shall expect you to write to me from time to time to let me know how you are getting on; and I will write to you also, if you can give me an address from which my letters can be forwarded on to you. This will be my address for the next year or two, probably." And, producing a card, he scribbled something upon it and handed it to me. "And now," he continued, "about rejoining this ship of yours. Would it be possible for me to accompany you on board? I should like to make the acquaintance of your captain, and have a little talk with him." I very clearly understood that the kind-hearted old fellow wished to do me a good turn by making a much more favourable report of my conduct than it would be possible for me personally to make; and I was not so foolish as to regard lightly or neglect any help of which I could legitimately avail myself in my professional career. I therefore said: "Oh yes, Sir Thomas, I have no doubt that it can be very easily managed; and I am quite sure that Captain Bentinck will be delighted to see you. You can go aboard in the same boat with us, and your return to this ship can be afterwards arranged for." "Right! Then that is settled. Now I will leave you, for there is a little matter that I wish to attend to before you and your people leave the ship." And with a very kindly smile and nod the old gentleman turned and left me, and presently I noticed that he was deep in conversation with first one and then another of the passengers who were now mustering on the poop. Meanwhile the breeze was freshening and the two craft were nearing each other fast, the brig gradually edging a little farther away to the southward at the same time, by which means she by this time presented so nearly a perfect broadside view of herself to us that we could see the end of her gaff, to which we presently saw the British ensign run up. And now there was no longer any doubt as to her being the _Shark_, for her figurehead--consisting of a gilt life-size effigy of the fish after which she was named--could be distinctly made out, glittering under the heel of her bowsprit. In reply to her challenge we of course lost no time in running up our own ensign; but beyond doing that there was no need for further signalling, for it was by this time clearly evident that she intended to speak us. And presently my little party of nine came marching aft, bag and baggage, to the lee gangway, where they stood waiting in readiness to go down over the side, San Domingo depositing his kit temporarily in the stern-sheets of the longboat while he hurried down into my cabin to get my few belongings together. The negro had just returned to the deck with these when the _Shark_, ranging up within a biscuit-toss of us, hailed: "Ship ahoy! what ship is that?" "The _Indian Queen_, of and from London to Bombay, with passengers and general cargo," replied Carter. "We have an officer and nine men belonging to you on board, sir. Will you send a boat for them, or shall we lower one of ours?" "Is that Mr Grenvile that stands beside you, sir?" asked a voice which I now recognised, despite the speaking-trumpet, as that of Captain Bentinck himself. "Yes, sir," replied I for myself; "and I have nine men with me, the survivors of the prize crew of the _Dolores_." I saw the skipper turn to Mr Seaton, who stood beside him, and say something, to which the other replied. Then the former hailed again. "Very glad to find that you are safe, Mr Grenvile," he shouted. "You had better take room and heave-to, and we will do the same. You need not trouble about a boat; we will send one of ours." Carter flourished an arm by way of reply, and then gave the order: "Main tack and sheet let go! Man the main clew-garnets and trice up! Lay aft, here, to the main braces, some of you, and stand by to back the mainyard! Down helm, my man, and let her come to the wind!" At this moment Sir Thomas came up to me and said: "Grenvile, my lad, come down on to the main-deck with me a moment, will you? I have a word or two that I should like to say to your men before they leave the ship." "Certainly, Sir Thomas," said I; and down we both trundled to where the little party of _Sharks_ stood lovingly eyeing the movements of their ship, and, as is the manner of sailors, abusing her and all in her the while. "My lads," said the general, as they faced round at our approach, "you are about to leave us and return to your own ship, where I doubt not you will receive a warm and hearty welcome from your messmates. But before you go I wish, on behalf of myself and the rest of the passengers of the _Indian Queen_, to express to you all our very high appreciation of the splendid manner in which you have conducted yourselves while on board this ship, and, still more, of the magnificent services which, under the leadership of your gallant young officer, Mr Grenvile, you have rendered not only to the owners and crew of the ship, but also to us, the passengers. There can be no manner of doubt that, under God, and by His gracious mercy, you have been the means, first, of rescuing the bulk of the crew from death of a nature too horrible to contemplate, and secondly, ourselves, the passengers, from a fate equally horrible. By so doing you have laid us all under an obligation which it is utterly impossible for us adequately to requite, particularly at this present moment; but it is my intention to go on board your ship to express personally to your captain my very high opinion of the conduct of each one of you. And meanwhile the passengers as a body have deputed me to invite your acceptance of this bag and its contents, amounting to ninety sovereigns--that is to say, ten pounds each man--as a very small and inadequate expression of our gratitude to you. I wish you all long life and prosperity." "Thank'e, Sir Thomas, thank'e, sir; you're a gentleman of the right sort, you are--ay, and a good fighter too, sir; we shan't forget how you went with us into that village, away yonder, to help save them poor `shell-backs'," and so on, and so on. Each man felt it incumbent upon him to say something in reply to Sir Thomas's speech, and, still more, by way of thanks for the handsome gift that had come to them through him. By the time that this pleasant little ceremony of the presentation was over, the two vessels were hove-to, and Carter, who of course saw and heard what was going on, must needs come down and have his say also. "Mr Grenvile, and men of the _Shark_," he began, as soon as the general's back was turned, "I've been very pleased to see what's just been done, and I'm only sorry that I've no power to do as much on my own account. But, whereas I'm now cap'n of this ship, I was only third mate when we hauled out of dock at London, consequently I've no money of my own for makin' presents, and such money as is in the ship belongs to the owners, and I've no power to spend it otherwise than in certain ways, as I dare say you all understand. But I agree with every word that the general said about your splendid conduct, and savin' the lives of my crew and passengers, and all that, and when we get back home I will of course see the owners and report everything to them, and if they're the men I take 'em to be they'll be sure to do the handsome thing by you. As for me, I can only thank you all very heartily for all the help you've given me." The _Shark's_ boat came alongside just then, and the men passed down their "dunnage" into her amid a brisk fire of good-humoured chaff from their shipmates, and such enquiries as: "Hello, Jim, haven't you got so much as a monkey or a parrot to cheer us up with?" and so on. Then they followed their belongings down the side, and stowed themselves away in the boat, while I was busy saying adieu to the occupants of the poop, all of whom expressed their deep regret at parting with me. Then I sprang down into the boat, the general followed, and we shoved off amid much cheering from the forecastle, and much waving of hats and pocket handkerchiefs from the poop. The pull from the ship to the brig was a short one, and in a few minutes I had the satisfaction of finding myself once more standing on the deck of the _Shark_. "Come on board, sir," I reported, touching my hat to the captain, who, with the first lieutenant, was standing on the quarter-deck near the gangway as I entered. "You have taken us rather by surprise, Mr Grenvile," remarked the skipper, gravely acknowledging my salute. "I quite expected that you would be at Sierra Leone by this time. I see that you are wounded, and you appear also to have lost some men. These circumstances, coupled with the fact of your coming to us from yonder ship, lead me to fear that matters have gone very seriously wrong with you and your prize." "They have indeed, sir, I am sorry to say," answered I. "But before I tell you my story, sir, will you permit me to introduce to you General Sir Thomas Baker, one of the passengers aboard the _Indian Queen_, who has expressed a desire to have some conversation with you." "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Thomas," remarked the skipper, exchanging salutes with the general, and then offering his hand. "Perhaps you will do me the favour to step below to my cabin with me, and we can then have a chat together. Meanwhile, Mr Grenvile, if one may judge from your appearance, the sooner you report yourself to the surgeon the better it will be for you." And, as I touched my hat and retired, he led the way below, closely followed by the general. "Well, Grenvile, here you are," exclaimed Morgan, as I entered his cabin. "I have been expecting you, for I saw you come up the side. What is the extent of the damage, and what have you done with the _Dolores_? Which is the worse, your shoulder or your head? Shoulder, eh? Well, let me help you off with your jacket and shirt. Easy does it! There, now sit down in that chair and make yourself comfortable, while I cooper you up. Have they a surgeon aboard that ship? This shoulder of yours appears to have been attended to very passably. Now, spin your yarn while I give you an overhaul." I gave a brief account of myself and of what had befallen us since leaving the _Shark_, while Morgan patched me up, and his work and my yarn came to an end about the same time. "Well," said he, as I rose to leave the cabin, "I don't think the skipper will have much fault to find with you when he hears your story. You couldn't help the loss of the schooner, and, upon the other hand, there seems to be very little doubt that you saved the _Indian Queen_ from destruction, and her passengers and crew from a very terrible fate. I expect that jolly old buffer, General what's-his-name, has come aboard with the express purpose of making a confidential report to the skipper upon your conduct, and if his story at all bears out your own it ought to do you some good. Now, I'm going to put you on the sick list for a day or two; you have been worked quite hard enough of late, and wounded too. You must take care of yourself for a little while. You need not stay below, you know, but you must not go on duty, for you are not fit for it; that shoulder of yours needs looking after, or it will give you a good deal of trouble. Come to me again at eight bells this afternoon." From the surgeon's cabin I made my way to the midshipmen's berth, where I received as boisterously hearty a welcome as mid could desire; but I had been there scarcely five minutes when San Domingo, who had already installed himself in his former berth, popped his head in at the door and said, with a broad grin: "Mistah Grenvile, sah, de first leptenant wishes to see you on deck, sah." Leaving my shipmates itching with curiosity to hear the yarn which I had just begun to spin, I made my way up to the quarter-deck, where I found Mr Seaton in charge, both ships still remaining hove-to. "Ah, here you are, Grenvile!" exclaimed the first luff as I stepped up to him and touched my hat. "I am anxious to hear the story of your adventures since you left us, but I understood that the captain had sent you below to the surgeon. Have you seen him?" "Yes, sir," said I; "I have been with him for quite half an hour, while he dressed my wounds. He has put me on the sick list, sir." "Which is about the best place for you, I should think, judging from your looks," answered my companion. "And, of course," he continued, "the wily old Welshman availed himself of the opportunity to extract your story from you--trust Morgan for that! However, he has only weathered on me to the extent of half an hour or so, and I'll get even with him yet before all's done. Now, heave ahead, my lad, and give me the whole yarn, from clew to earing." Whereupon I had to go through my story a second time, and when I had come to the end I began to reckon up mentally how many times more I might reasonably be expected to tell it, for the fact was that I was already becoming a little tired of it. "Thank you, Grenvile," said Mr Seaton, as I brought my yarn to a conclusion. "A most interesting yarn, and an exceedingly exciting experience. Of course it is not for me to mete out praise or blame in my official capacity, that is to say, it is for the captain to do that; but, unofficially, and merely as a friend, I may perhaps venture to say that so far as I can see you have nothing with which to reproach yourself and have much to be proud of. It is unfortunate that you should have lost five of your number, and I am particularly sorry that Mr Gowland should have been among them, for Mr Gowland was a particularly trustworthy and reliable navigator; but no one could possibly have foreseen that you would have been attacked by that piratical slaver. Ah, here come the captain and your friend the general! What a fine-looking old fellow the general is!" They came straight toward where the first luff and I were standing; and as they approached, Captain Bentinck said: "Well, general, since you are quite determined not to stay to lunch with us, let me at least introduce my first lieutenant to you before you go." Sir Thomas very courteously expressed the pleasure that it would afford him to make Mr Seaton's acquaintance, and the introduction was duly made. Then the captain said: "Sir Thomas has been giving me a very full and detailed description of everything that has happened since you joined the _Indian Queen_, Mr Grenvile, and the recital has afforded me a great deal of pleasure. You appear to have handled an extremely difficult situation with equal courage and discretion, and I may as well say at once that, so far as that part of your adventure is concerned, I am quite satisfied. Sir Thomas has also had something to say about that part of your adventure which relates to the loss of the _Dolores_"--and here I thought I detected a twinkle of amusement in the skipper's eye, brought there possibly by a repetition of the General's frank criticism of my commanding officer's conduct in turning us all adrift in an unarmed vessel--"from which I gather that you were in no way to blame for that unfortunate occurrence." "I think you will be confirmed in that opinion, sir, when you have heard Grenvile's own version of the occurrence, as I have," said Mr Seaton. "The whole affair appears to have been just one of those that no one could possibly have anticipated." "Well, I must bid you all adieu," said the general, "for I have kept poor Carter waiting a most unconscionable time, and I see him marching to and fro upon his poop yonder in a state of terrible impatience. Good-bye, my dear boy, and God bless you, for you are a downright good lad in every way! Don't forget to write to me, and keep me posted as to how you are getting on. Good-bye, Captain Bentinck! I am delighted to have had the very great pleasure of making your acquaintance, and I am much obliged to you for listening to me so patiently. Good-bye, Mr Seaton; good-bye, good-bye!" And the old gentleman bustled away, beaming benignantly upon all and sundry, and made his way down into the boat, which meanwhile had been hauled-up to the gangway. Five minutes later the boat returned to the _Shark_, and was hoisted to the davits, and the two craft filled away upon their respective courses, with mutual dips of their ensigns, and much waving of white pocket handkerchiefs from the poop of the _Indian Queen_. That I should be called upon to relate my story yet once again--this time to the captain--was, of course, inevitable; but he was considerate enough to defer the recital until dinner-time that evening, when the second lieutenant, the master, and myself were guests at his table. He was very kind and sympathetic in the matter of the loss of the _Dolores_, which he admitted was inevitable under the circumstances, and warmly reiterated his expressions of satisfaction at everything that I had done aboard the _Indian Queen_. CHAPTER ELEVEN. A SUCCESSFUL BOAT EXPEDITION. That same evening we made the land from the mast-head just before sunset, and four hours later came to an anchor off the mouth of a river, the bar of which had too little water on it to permit of the passage of the _Shark_. Our visit to this spot was the result of certain information which the skipper had acquired a few days previously from the master of a palm-oil trader hailing from Liverpool, upon the strength of which he rather hoped to be able to take by surprise an especially notorious slaver which had long eluded our cruisers, but which was now stated, upon fairly reliable authority, to be somewhere on the coast, and was believed to have entered this particular river. The canvas having been snugly furled, the boats, under the command of the first lieutenant, the master, the boatswain, and the gunner, were manned, armed, and dispatched into the river, the whole expedition being, of course, under the command of Mr Seaton, in whose boat went Peter Christy, one of the midshipmen, while young Keene, another midshipman, contrived to smuggle himself down into the master's boat. Of course I applied for leave to go with the expedition, but, being on the sick list, was peremptorily forbidden even to dream of such a thing, for Morgan, our surgeon, declared that in my run-down condition I was utterly unfit to face the risks of exposure to the fever-laden fog which would certainly be encountered in the river. The night was not especially favourable for an expedition intended to take ships by surprise; for although the sky was somewhat cloudy, it was by no means sufficiently so to obscure very materially the light of the moon, which was then in her first quarter. But she would set shortly after midnight, and meanwhile her light would facilitate the passage of the boats across the bar, after the accomplishment of which the plan was to endeavour to discover the position of the vessel that we were after--or, failing her, any other craft that might be in the river--and then ambush the boats until the moon had gone down. We gave the boats a cheer as they pulled away, and watched them until they vanished in the shadowy obscurity inshore; after which, as we expected to see nothing more of them until daylight, the watch was piped down, and going below I turned in. The night, however, was intensely hot, and the atmosphere of the midshipmen's berth intolerably stuffy. I therefore slept but poorly, and was up and down, at intervals of about an hour, all through the night, listening for the sound of firing, and hoping that perchance the reflection of gun-flashes on the clouds might indicate that the boats had found their quarry. Once or twice, about three o'clock in the morning, some of us who, like myself, were on the qui vive, thought we caught the muffled sound of distant firing coming off to us on the damp night breeze, but the everlasting thunder of the surf on the sand a mile away was so loud that we might easily have been deceived. That something important, however, was happening ashore was evident, for about this time we saw the reflection of a brilliant glare in the sky which lasted nearly an hour, and then gradually died down. At seven o'clock the next morning all our doubts were set at rest by the appearance of two craft--a slashing brig and a very smart-looking little schooner--coming out over the bar with the _Shark's_ boats in tow; and ten minutes later they rounded-to and anchored close to us. We now had an opportunity to take a good look at our prizes, and it needed no second glance to assure us that both were perfectly superb examples of the shipbuilder's art. Long, low, and extraordinarily beamy, they carried spars big enough for craft of twice their tonnage, upon which they spread an area of canvas that made some of us stare in amazement, and which, combined with their exquisitely perfect lines, gave them a speed that enabled them to defy pursuit. The _Dona Inez_, as the brig was named, was a craft of three hundred and eighty-six tons register, and drew only ten feet of water aft; while the _Francesca_--the schooner,--on a tonnage of one hundred and twenty, drew only six feet. That they had been built for the express purpose of slave traffic was apparent at the first glance; and they were, moreover, completely fitted for that traffic, for they had slave-decks, and had manacles, meal, and water on board, but no slaves. The report of Mr Seaton, the first lieutenant, who presently came aboard, was eminently satisfactory. The expedition had succeeded in locating the two ships on the previous night before the setting of the moon, and had then lain in ambush behind a point only some two cables lengths from their prey until about two o'clock the next morning, when, with muffled oars, they had pulled alongside the two craft simultaneously, boarded them without resistance, surprised and overpowered the anchor-watch, and secured the crews under hatches. This having been done, and prize crews having been placed in charge of both vessels, the remainder of the party, led by Mr Seaton, had landed and captured an extensive slave factory, the occupants of which were evidently preparing for the reception of a large coffle of slaves, and set fire to it, burning the whole place to the ground. And all this had been accomplished at the cost of only two men slightly-wounded. The expedition had thus been completely successful, for the _Dona Inez_ was the craft the capture of which had been its especial object, while we had secured in addition a second prize and had destroyed a factory. Immediately after breakfast the captain proceeded to make his arrangements with regard to the prizes. First of all, the crew of the _Francesca_, were transferred to the _Dona Inez_, and, with the crew of the latter vessel, safely confined in her hold; then the prize crews were strengthened; and, finally, the brig was placed under the command of Mr Fawcett. Then the captain sent for me. "Mr Grenvile," said he, "I am going to prove to you, by placing you in command of the _Francesca_, that the loss of the _Dolores_ has in no wise shaken my confidence in you. I remember, of course, that you are on the sick list; but I have consulted the surgeon relative to my proposed arrangement, and he assures me that a few days at sea will be far better for your health than remaining on the coast aboard the _Shark_. Your duties will be easy, for I intend to send with you Jones and Simpson, the boatswain's and carpenter's mates, who were with you in the _Dolores_, and a rather stronger crew than you had in that craft. You may also have Mr Keene to keep you company. You will sail in company with the brig, which will be under the command of Mr Fawcett, and since I learn that both craft, contrary to the ordinary usage of slavers, are heavily armed, you are not likely to suffer molestation this time on your voyage to Sierra Leone." "Thank you, sir!" said I. "I am very much obliged to you for your continued confidence in me, which you shall find has not been misplaced; and, as to my health, I really think I shall get well quicker at sea than I should by remaining here on the coast. May I have San Domingo again as cabin steward, sir?" "Why, yes, certainly, if you like, Mr Grenvile," answered the captain good-naturedly. "The fellow is rather a good man, I believe, and he appears to have taken a particularly strong fancy to you. By the way, there is one thing that I omitted to mention, Mr Grenvile, and that is that you will have to be your own navigator should you and the brig by any chance part company, for Mr Freeman will accompany Mr Fawcett in the brig. But the master tells me that you are a very reliable navigator; you therefore ought not to have any difficulty upon that score. And now you had better run away and turn yourself over to your three-decker." I dived down into the midshipmen's berth, and found my shipmate, Keene, there also, although really he ought to have been on deck. "Pass the word for San Domingo," said I to the sentry on duty outside. And as the man duly passed the word, I turned to Keene and said: "Now, then, young man, hurry up and get your kit ready as fast as you please. You are to come with me in the _Francesca_." "No!" exclaimed the youth with incredulous delight. "You don't really mean it, do you, Grenvile? You're only having me on." "Indeed I am not," answered I. "The skipper has just told me that I may have you. He thinks that a little real hard work in a small vessel will do you a lot of good, and there I fully agree with him," I added grimly. "Oh, hard work be hanged!" exclaimed the lad joyously. "I'm not afraid of hard work, as you very well know, Dick. And it will be simply glorious to get away from the taut discipline of the _Shark_ for a little while, to say nothing of the possibility of another such adventure as your last. But a pirate won't have it all his own way this time if he attempts to meddle with us, I can tell you, for the schooner mounts eight long nines, and carries a long eighteen on her forecastle. I say, Grenvile, can't we manage to have a little cruise on our own account? The skipper would forgive us, I'm sure, if we were lucky enough to take in a prize or two." "Not to be thought of, my friend," answered I severely. "We are to make the best of our way to Sierra Leone--the best of our way, do you understand? Besides, the brig and we are to sail in company; and Fawcett won't stand any nonsense, even if I were disposed to listen to your suggestion." At this moment San Domingo came along. "You want me, Mr Grenvile?" he asked. "Yes, San Domingo," said I. "Get the kits of Mr Keene and myself ready, and also your own, as quickly as possible. We are all to go aboard the schooner." "Yes, massa, sartinly. I hab um ready in nex' to no time," answered the negro, with an expansive smile of joy irradiating his face. "P'rhaps we hab anoder adventure! Who can say?" he muttered to himself. It was getting well on toward noon when, both prizes having been thoroughly overhauled, and such deficiencies as were discovered made good from the stores of the _Shark_, Mr Fawcett and I formally took over our own respective commands, and the three craft weighed and made sail in company. I confess that I felt in exceedingly buoyant spirits, and the pain of my wounds was completely forgotten as, with young Keene beside me, I stumped fore and aft on the short quarter-deck of the schooner and keenly compared her behaviour with that of her bigger companions. The sea breeze was piping up strong, and there was enough sea running to render the advantage all in favour of the two brigs; yet, notwithstanding this, we were able to spare the _Shark_ our topgallant- sail and still keep pace with her. But, good as was the schooner, the _Dona Inez_ was better; so much better, indeed, that, in order to avoid running away from us, Fawcett was obliged not only to furl both topgallant-sails, but also to take a single reef in both topsails, while, even then, the brig persisted in creeping ahead, and had to be constantly checked by keeping the weather leaches of her topsails a- shiver. She was undoubtedly a wonderful craft, and doubtless Fawcett was extremely proud of her. I fear that poor Captain Bentinck felt somewhat disgusted at the indifferent figure that the _Shark_ was cutting, compared with the other two craft, for he quite unexpectedly made the signal to part company, fired a gun, and went in stays preparatory to bearing away on a southerly course. A few minutes later San Domingo emerged from the companion with the news that luncheon was ready. "Very well," said I. Then to Simpson, who had charge of the deck: "Keep your eye on the commodore, Mr Simpson, and if he should signal, let me know. And, by the way, you might set the topgallant-sail; I think she will bear it." "Ay, ay, sir!" answered Simpson with a grin at the "Mr" which I had given him. "Away aloft there two hands and loose the to'ga'nt-sail. Cast off the clewlines and buntlines, and see all ready to sheet home and hoist away!" Followed by Keene I dived through the companion, descended the ladder-- which was in reality a staircase,--and entered the little vessel's main cabin. This was the first time that either Keene or I had been below, and as we passed through the doorway giving access to the apartment, and looked round it, we began to understand the meaning of the negro's ecstatic grin as he stood aside to permit us to enter. The cabin was a very roomy one for so small a vessel, being about fifteen feet long, and about the same width at the fore end, tapering away aft, of course, in accordance with the shape of the vessel. It was not, however, the size of the cabin so much that arrested our attention as the general effect of extreme elegance which the apartment presented. The man who was responsible for its fitting up must have been an individual of distinctly sybaritic tastes. To begin with, the lockers that ran fore and aft on either side were luxuriously soft and comfortable to sit upon, and were upholstered in rich crimson velvet, with thickly-padded backs of the same material, carried high enough to afford a soft cushion for the back of the head of the sitters to rest upon. They were wide enough to form a most comfortable couch, and were evidently intended to serve that purpose, for at each end they were furnished with a great pile of richly embroidered silken cushions. The lining of the cabin above these couches, or lockers, was of bird's-eye maple, highly polished, and divided up into panels by pilasters of polished satinwood, the centre of each panel being occupied by a large circular port or scuttle of very thick, clear glass, set in a stout gun-metal double frame so arranged that the ports could be opened for the admission of air. Above these ports handsome rods of polished brass, with ornamented ends, were screwed to the panelling, and from these rods depended miniature curtains of crimson velvet, fringed with bullion, which could be drawn when necessary to exclude the too ardent rays of the sun. On one side of the door in the fore bulkhead stood a very handsome sideboard of polished satinwood, surmounted by a mirror in a massive gilt frame worked into the semblance of a ship's cable, and on the other stood an equally handsome bookcase, well filled with--as we afterwards ascertained--beautifully bound books--romances, poems, and the like--in the Spanish language. The after bulkhead was adorned with a very fine trophy, in the form of a many-rayed star, composed of weapons, such as swords, pistols, daggers, and axes. The skylight was very large, occupying nearly half the area of that part of the deck which was over the cabin, and in the centre of it hung a large and exceedingly handsome lamp of solid silver, suspended by massive chains of the same metal, while one end of the skylight was occupied by a barometer hung in gimbals, and the other by a tell-tale compass. Such an elegant little apartment naturally demanded that all its appointments should correspond, and so they did, for the table--which we afterwards found to be made of solid walnut, polished to the brilliance of a mirror--was covered with an immaculate tablecloth of snowy damask, upon which glittered a table equipage of solid silver, cut glass, and dainty porcelain, with a handsome silver centrepiece filled with recently cut flowers, apparently gathered no later than the previous day in the flower-clad forest on the margin of the river which we had just left. We gasped with amazement--as well we might--at the sight of this little interior, glowing and sparkling with its evidences of almost palatial luxury, and seated ourselves in silence, for words completely failed us, although it is not a very easy matter to reduce a British midshipman to a condition of speechless astonishment. Nor indeed did we long remain in that abnormal state, for, after gazing about him for a moment with open mouth and protruding eyes, Keene burst out with: "Here, you, San Domingo, you black villain, don't stand there grinning until the corners of your mouth reach back under your ears, but come forward and explain yourself. Where did you find all these things, eh?" "Massa Keene," protested the negro, "it not right dat young gentleum should call deir faithful servant a `black willain' after him hab work hard to make um conf'ble and keep um bert' tidy aboard dat dirty old _Shark_. Mos' ungrateful to call black gentleum a willain after all dat I has done for you. You has hurt my feelin's, sah!" "Have I?" said Jack. "Well then, I'm sorry, San Domingo, and apologise most profoundly and profusely and perpetually and peremptorily and--all the other `pers' and `pros' that you can think of. Now, how is that for a salve to your wounded feelings, eh?" "Dat all right, sah," answered the black. "Quite proper dat one gentleum should 'polergize to anoder. I accep's your 'polergy, sah, mos' gratefully, and will say no more 'bout it. But it not pleasant, sah, for to be called `black willain' after I hab take de trouble to do all dat"--waving his hand toward the table--"for de pleasure and satisfaction ob--" I thought it time to interfere and put a stop to the negro's garrulity; so I cut in with: "Yes, that is all right, San Domingo; but Mr Keene has apologised most fully and handsomely, so we may now regard the incident as closed. At the same time I would remind you that you have not yet replied to Mr Keene's question as to where you found all these gorgeous table appointments." "Yes, sah, dat quite true, Mistah Grenvile," replied our sable attendant. "Well, sah, I find dem all in de steward's pantry--where else? Ah, gentleum, dis is wery different from de appearance ob de table in de midshipmen's berth aboard de _Shark_, eh? No tin cups and plates here, sah; no rusty old bread barge; no battered old coffeepot; no not'ing ob dat sort. And I t'ink, gentleum, dat if you is pleased wid de table 'pointments dat you will be equally so wid de grub dat I shall hab de honour to place before you. Dis luncheon is not'ing much, just a fresh-cut ham"--lifting a dish-cover--"and a cold boiled tongue"--lifting another. "But dere is fine white biscuit, such as you nebber see aboard de _Shark_, and on dat sideboard I hab a prime cheese--" "Yes, everything is most excellent, San Domingo," said I, again interrupting the fellow. "Now, Keene, what do you say? Will you have some ham, or some tongue, or a little of both?" "Thanks!" answered Jack. "I will take a great deal of both if you don't mind, for somehow I've managed to find an enormous appetite." Having finished our meal, we went on deck again. We found that during our absence below the breeze had moderated very considerably, to such an extent, indeed, that Simpson had just sent a hand aloft to loose the royal and main-topmast staysail, and another to cast loose the gaff- topsail. He was moved thereto, no doubt, by the fact that the brig, which had fallen somewhat astern of us, was also making sail. We had acquired the habit of regarding the _Shark_ as a decidedly fast ship, but the manner in which the _Dona Inez_ and our own little schooner slid through the water was a revelation to us all, especially when the wind fell quite light, as it did toward the close of the afternoon. Then, indeed, when our speed had dwindled to about four knots, and our canvas collapsed at every roll of the vessel for lack of wind to fill it, we were able to hold our own with the brig; while still later, when the wind had fallen so light that the horizon had become invisible and the oil-smooth surface of the ocean showed scarcely a wrinkle in its satin- smooth folds to indicate that there was still a faint movement of the atmosphere, we gradually drew ahead of our consort, at the rate of about half a knot per hour, and even contrived to retain command of our little barkie, and keep her head pointed the right way, when the brig had begun to box the compass. It continued calm until shortly after midnight that night, when a faint breathing came creeping up to us from the eastward, to which we spread our studding-sails, and, an hour later, we were bowling merrily along at a speed of nine knots. The wind not only held through the night, but freshened with the sunrise, and throughout that day and the succeeding night our speed never fell below eleven knots, while for an hour or so, when it breezed up especially strong, our log showed that we were doing close upon fourteen. With the dawn of the third day after we had parted company with the _Shark_ we found ourselves about two miles distant from our consort, both vessels steering to the north-westward, with the wind well over our starboard quarter, and our starboard studding-sails set. The wind was blowing a moderate breeze, there was a long but very regular sea running, and we were doing ten knots very comfortably, the little _Francesca_, sliding over the long liquid hills and down into the broad valleys as easily and buoyantly as a sea gull. We in the schooner were showing every rag we could spread, but the brig had her royals stowed, in order that she might not run away from us. At seven o'clock San Domingo entered my cabin with a cup of chocolate, informed me as to the state of the weather, the whereabouts of the brig, and so on, and intimated that it was time for me to turn out if I wished to indulge in my usual luxury of a salt-water bath under the head-pump. I accordingly tumbled out, and, going on deck, made my way forward along the heaving planks into the eyes of the little vessel. I was just about to place myself under the clear sparkling stream of salt-water that gushed from the spout of the pump when the sound of a loud snap overhead caused me to look aloft, and I saw that the royal halyard had parted, and that the yard was sagging down with its own weight, and the sail bellying out with the pressure of the wind in it. Jones, the acting boatswain, who had charge of the deck, instantly observed the trifling mishap, and shouted an order for the sail to be temporarily clewed up, and for a hand to go aloft and bend the halyard afresh. Meanwhile I proceeded to take my bath, and was giving myself a vigorous towelling afterwards, when the man who had gone aloft hailed the deck with the cry of: "Sail ho! about two points before the starboard beam." "What does she look like?" demanded the boatswain. "She's a tidy-sized brigantine or schooner, sir, for I can see the head of her topgallant-sail and gaff-topsail. She's steerin' pretty much the same way as ourselves, by the look of her." "Very well, that'll do. Look alive with that royal halyard there. We don't want the commodore to signal, askin' us how long we're goin' to take over the job." "I'll have all ready to sway away in less than a minute, sir; it's been rather a awk'ard job," answered the man. "Mr Jones," I shouted, "be good enough to signal the commodore that there is a strange sail in the northern board, will you?" "Ay, ay, sir!" answered Jones; and he dived below for the signal book, which was kept in the main cabin. A minute later we had temporarily hauled down our main-topmast staysail, to permit a clear view of our flags, and were busily exchanging signals with the brig. Meanwhile, having dried myself, I went below to dress. Presently a heavy footstep sounded on the companion ladder and a bunch of horny knuckles rapped at my state-room door. "Come in," I cried, and as the door opened Jones poked his head in. "Commodore's signalled us to haul our wind half a p'int, sir," he reported. "Very good, Mr Jones; have the goodness to do so," I said, and the boatswain vanished. Upon returning to the deck after the completion of my toilet I found that the brig had, like ourselves, hauled-up half a point, and set her royals, with the result that she was slightly increasing her distance from us. This change, slight though it was, in the course of the two vessels, caused the stranger and ourselves gradually to approach each other on lines that converged at a very acute angle, and I surmised that Fawcett had set his royals with the twofold object of increasing the speed of his approach toward the stranger, and of avoiding the awakening of any suspicion on the part of that stranger which the sight of a ship with her royals stowed in such moderate weather might be likely to arouse. By midday we had raised the stranger sufficiently to enable us to see the whole of her royal and just the head of her topgallant-sail from the deck, while from our royal-yard the whole of her canvas was visible down to the top half of her foresail; we were therefore in a position to pronounce not only that she was a brigantine, but also that she was a slashing big craft, probably quite as big as the _Dona Inez_. As the afternoon wore on, however, we seemed to be raising her no higher, and I came at length to the conclusion that, like ourselves, she had slightly hauled her wind, thus manifesting a distinct if not very strongly marked desire to avoid any closer acquaintance with us, which, in its turn, went far to confirm me in a suspicion which had already arisen within my mind that she was a slaver, probably from the Bonny or the Gaboon, with a cargo of "black ivory" on board. All the afternoon I maintained a close watch upon the commodore, with the aid of the splendid telescope which we had found aboard the schooner, momentarily expecting him to make some signal which would indicate that he shared my suspicions; but none came, and at length it dawned upon me that he was purposely abstaining from holding any communication with me, lest by doing so he should strengthen any suspicion which the stranger might be entertaining as to our character. But I noticed that at eight bells in the afternoon watch he again altered his course, hauling up another point; and without receiving any signal from him I promptly did the same. That we were gradually overhauling the chase was evident from the fact that we were slowly raising her, while she was unable to head-reach upon us; and at sunset we could see the foot of her topsail from the deck while she had not altered her bearing from us by so much as a quarter point since we had last hauled our wind. And if we in the _Francesca_ were gaining upon her, the _Dona Inez_ was doing so in a still more marked degree, that craft being, at the time last-mentioned, quite eight miles ahead of us, and about two points on our weather bow. The question now arose in my mind whether she would endeavour to dodge us during the night? She would find it exceedingly difficult to do so, for there was now a good moon in the sky, affording sufficient light to enable a man with keen eyes to keep a craft at her distance from us in sight without very much trouble; but, on the other hand, there was a very heavy mass of cloud banking up to windward and fast overspreading the sky. This would obscure the moon later, and perhaps for a time cut off enough of her light to give the stranger a chance, should he wish to avail himself of it. I therefore sent one of the keenest-sighted men I had with me up on the topsail-yard as soon as it began to grow dusk, with instructions to keep his eye on the stranger and immediately report to me should he happen to lose sight of her. For we knew, both from hearsay and experience, that the slavers were as wily as foxes, and were in the habit of adopting all sorts of queer expedients to evade pursuit. Not content, therefore, with sending a hand aloft to watch the stranger, I maintained an almost continuous watch upon her myself from the deck with the aid of the _Francesca's_ excellent telescope, which was both a day and a night glass. Meanwhile the cloud bank continued steadily to overspread the heavens, and at length obscured the moon, shutting off so much of her light that it immediately became difficult in the extreme to discern the chase any longer, even with the assistance of the telescope; and I was not in the least surprised when, a minute or two later, the look-out aloft hailed to say that he had lost sight of her. But I had not; I could still see her through the glass, although with momentarily increasing difficulty as the pall of cloud crept onward across the sky, ever cutting off more and still more of the moon's light; and at length the moment arrived when I also was compelled to admit to myself that I could no longer see her. I removed the telescope from my eye for a minute or two to give my strained and smarting eyeballs a rest, and closed my eyelids in order to completely exclude from them even such dim and uncertain light as still remained; then, knowing exactly where to look for the stranger, I once more pointed the instrument in that direction, searching the horizon closely and carefully for the smallest blur that might betray her. But the effort was useless; she had vanished. CHAPTER TWELVE. AN EXCITING CHASE. Now arose the question: What has become of the chase; had we simply lost sight of her in the growing obscurity, and was she still steering the same course as when last seen, or had her captain availed himself of that obscurity to put in practice some trick in order to give us the slip? I brought the telescope to bear upon the _Dona Inez_, in the hope of gathering from her actions some clue as to whether or not she still held the chase in view; she was carrying on, holding to her original course, and the inference to be drawn from this was that those aboard could still see the stranger. But, even as I looked, a string of lanterns soared up to her peak, from which position they were hidden from the chase by the intervention of the brig's head-sails, and when the signal was at length complete I found, as I had quite expected, that it was a question as to whether we still held the stranger in view. This signal I answered in the negative, by means of a whip from the lee lower yard- arm, keeping the lanterns quite low, in the hope that they would thus escape the observation of the chase, and I then got a second signal from the commodore, which read: "Steer as at present for one hour, then, failing further orders, haul wind to north-east." This signal I acknowledged in like manner as the first, and, while doing so, saw that the brig had taken in her studding-sails and hauled her wind. I noted the time, and found it to be close upon seven o'clock. Half an hour later, while Keene and I were below at dinner, the faint boom of a distant gun came floating down the open skylight to our ears, and Simpson, who had charge of the deck, poked his head down through the opening to make the report: "Commodore signalling again, sir!" Snatching the signal book from the locker upon which it had been thrown, I dashed upon deck, and presently, by the light of the binnacle lamps, deciphered the signal as follows: "Tack to south-east." "Right!" said I, "answer it. In studding-sails, Mr Simpson, and then heave about on the port tack. Keep your eye on the commodore, and also keep a bright look-out to windward for any sign of the chase." By the time that I got below again, and was once more seated at table, the schooner was in stays, and immediately afterwards the long, easy, floating and gliding movement of a vessel running off the wind was exchanged for the quick, violent, jerking plunge and heavy lee lurches of the same craft driven under a heavy pressure of canvas into a high and steep head-sea. Ten minutes later I was again on deck. "I was just thinkin', sir, of takin' in the to'garns'l," remarked Simpson as I joined him on the weather side of our tiny quarter-deck, where he was engaged in a futile endeavour to avoid the heavy showers of spray that were now flying over our weather bow and as far aft as the mainmast. "She's got a good deal more than she can comfortably carry, and there's nothin' to be gained by whippin' the sticks out of her. I believe she'd travel quite as fast, and a good deal easier, if that to'garns'l was stowed, sir." "Any sign of the chase yet, Mr Simpson?" said I. "No, sir, not when I looked last, there wasn't," answered the carpenter. "The mischief of it is that there's no knowin' where to look for her, and it's as much as a man can do to make out the commodore in this murk." "Where is the commodore?" demanded I. "Out there, dead to wind'ard of us, and about four mile away," answered Simpson. "Better take in the to'garns'l, hadn't we, sir?" he continued, cocking his eye aloft to where in the dim light the spar could be faintly seen whipping and buckling like a fishing rod at every mad plunge and heave of the sorely-overdriven little vessel. That she was being overdriven was perfectly evident, not only from the tremendous quantity of water that she was shipping forward at every furious dive into the head-sea, but from the steep angle of her decks, which sloped at an inclination of fully forty-five degrees with every lee roll, and from the cataracts of green water that poured in over her lee rail upon every such occasion; her decks, indeed, to leeward were so flooded that no man could have passed along them to leeward without imminent risk of being washed overboard. "Yes," said I at last, "clew up your topgallant-sail, Mr Simpson, and the topsail also while you are about it. You are right, the ship is being over pressed, and I believe that what we may lose by taking the square canvas off her will be more than made up to us by our gain in weatherliness. She will look up nearly a point higher under her fore- and-aft canvas only, and go along very nearly as fast." Simpson needed no second bidding. He thought as I did on the matter, and the result proved us correct, for while there was no perceptible diminution in the schooner's speed due to the loss of her square canvas, she looked higher and went along much more easily and comfortably than she had done before, "Now for a look at the commodore," said I, when we had snugged down the little vessel, and I took the telescope from the beckets in which it hung in the companion way. Yes, there she was, dead to windward of us, driving along, as I could just make out, under her main topgallant-sail; but all was perfectly dark on board her, and there was no sign of the slaver that I could see. But I presumed that they had her in sight from the brig, or we should have heard something from the latter. For it was at this time very dark, and blowing strong, and the conditions generally were such that the matter of as little as even two or three miles might make all the difference between seeing and not seeing the stranger. Eight bells came, the watch was called. Jones, the boatswain, relieved Simpson, and the latter, bidding me good-night, went below. I explained to Jones our reasons for taking the square canvas off the ship, and he was graciously pleased to express his approval. "Yes, sir," he said, "I believe you've done the right thing. Even now the little hooker have got all that she can comfortably carry, and if you was to pile more on to her you'd do no good, but only strain her all to pieces, and open her seams. The fact is, Mr Grenvile, that these here shallow, beamy craft ain't intended to sail on their sides; bury 'em below their sheer-strake and they begins to drag and to sag at once. We're doin' quite as well as can be reasonably expected in such a sea as this, as is proved by the way that we're keepin' pace with the commodore. I'll just take his bearin's, for the fun of the thing, and see how much he head-reaches on us durin' the next hour." Saying which he trotted aft to the binnacle and very carefully took the bearings of the brig, which we both made to be exactly east-south-east. The hour sped, with no sight or sign of the chase to cheer us, and then Jones and I went to the binnacle to take the bearings of the _Dona Inez_ once more. The boatswain was a long time getting the bearing to his satisfaction, for the little vessel was leaping and plunging most furiously, and the compass-card was none too steady in the bowl; but at length he stepped back from the binnacle with an air of triumph, exclaiming: "There, Mr Grenvile, what d'ye make of that, sir?" Whereupon I, in turn, stepped up to the binnacle, and with equal care took the bearing. "I make it east and by south, half south," said I. "And east and by south, half south it is!" answered Jones exultantly. "Which means, sir, that we've head-reached on the brig to the extent of half a p'int within this last hour, and that, too, in a breeze and a sea so heavy that the brig ought to walk away from us hand over hand. Well, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself; but seein' is believin', I have heard say. And more than that," he continued, taking up the glass and levelling it at the _Dona Inez_, "I'm blest if I don't believe as we're weatherin' on her too. Take this glass, Mr Grenvile, and tell me whether you don't think as we've drawed up a bit closer to the commodore since eight bells struck." To humour the fellow I took the telescope, as requested, and certainly when I got the brig focused in the lens her image appeared to be more distinct and also perceptibly larger than it had been when I last looked at her. The hours sped on without change of any sort, except that when at length midnight arrived there was no longer any room to doubt that, since we had taken in our square canvas, and thus relieved the overdriven little hooker, we had steadily, if somewhat slowly, head-reached and weathered upon the commodore; and then, as there seemed to be no prospect of any further news from our consort that night, I went below and turned in, leaving instructions that I was to be called at once, without fail, should anything occur to render necessary my presence on deck, or should the commodore exhibit any further signals. In less than five minutes I was fast asleep. I was awakened next morning by the loud knocking of the steward at my state-room door. "Six bells, Mistah Grenvile, sah; and here is your coffee," announced San Domingo, as he stood balancing the cup and saucer in his hand and swaying to the still lively movements of the schooner, although it struck me at once that she was not nearly so lively in her motions as she had been when I turned in at midnight. I raised myself in my bunk and peered through the closed scuttle that was let into the side of the ship. The little craft was still lying over far enough to cause the sea to wash up over the glass and obscure the view occasionally, but there were nevertheless intervals of quite long enough duration to enable me to note that the morning was overcast and lowering, with a decided thundery look in the sky, and that the sea had gone down very considerably while I had been lying asleep. "Well, San Domingo," I said, "are there any signs of the chase? And where is the commodore?" "De chase, sah, am about four mile to wind'ard ob us, bearin' about half a point abaft de beam, and de commodore am 'bout a mile and a half astern of us." "Astern of us--the commodore astern of us, did you say?" exclaimed I incredulously. "Yes, sah," answered the black, quite unmoved, "dead astern ob us. We hab both weadered and head-reached on him durin' de night." "Has he made any signals since I came below?" asked I. "Not dat I am aware ob," answered the fellow. "But, if massa wish, I will go on deck and ask Mistah Simpson." "No, never mind," said I. "No doubt Mr Simpson would have called me had such been the case. What canvas are we under?" "All plain sail, to de royal, sah." "Very well, that will do," said I, taking the cup and draining it. "Find me my bath towel, San Domingo, and then you may go." A minute later I was on deck, still in my sleeping rig, and looking about me. The weather was pretty much as I had judged it to be from the glimpse that I had caught through my state-room port. As San Domingo had said, the _Dona Inez_ was about a mile and a half so dead astern of us that her two masts were in one, while, in the precise position which the negro had indicated, there lay a fine, spanking brigantine thrashing along under a perfect cloud of canvas to her royal, which, by the way, appeared to have as much hoist, and nearly as much canvas on it, as our topsail. "Nothing to report, sir," said Simpson, coming up to me as I emerged from the companion. "We made out the chase about two bells this morning; but I did not call you, sir, as she showed no signs of shiftin' her helm. And the commodore haven't said a word all night. I reckon he'll be a bit surprised when he sees where we are." "To tell you the truth, Simpson, I am `a bit surprised' myself," said I. "She is a wonderful little craft to have beaten the _Inez_ as she has done, and that, too, in a strong breeze." And, turning away, I went forward and took my usual salt-water bath. "Now," I meditated, as I took up a position beneath the spout of the head-pump, and signed to the man in charge to get to work, "the rule in chasing when one is abreast, but to the leeward of the chase, is to tack. I don't like to tack without instructions from my superior officer, because I don't know what his plans may be, and he may have some scheme of his own for the circumventing of our friend yonder; but if I do not hear anything from him by the time that I am ready to go below and dress I will just take the small liberty of asking for instructions. For of course the brigantine is quite aware by this time that the brig and we are running in couples, therefore there need be no further squeamishness on my part as to an interchange of signals between the brig and myself." My douche at an end, I walked aft again, and, pausing at the head of the companion ladder, said to Simpson: "Mr Simpson, be good enough to get out the flags and--" The carpenter was balancing himself upon the dancing deck as I spoke, with the telescope at his eye, looking at the brig, and I had got so far in my speech when he interrupted me with the exclamation: "Signal from the commodore, sir!" "What is it?" I asked. He read out the flags to me, and I said: "All right! acknowledge it." And I dived below into my cabin, where I at once turned up the signal in the code book. It consisted of the one word "Tack!" Hastily closing the book again, I dashed up the companion ladder and shouted to Simpson: "Mr Simpson, 'bout ship at once, if you please. And when you are round upon the other tack, and have coiled down, let the men clear away the long gun on the forecastle and get up a few rounds of ammunition. We may perhaps get a chance to have a slap at that fellow a little later." "Ay, ay, sir! Hands 'bout ship!" roared Simpson. And as I descended again to my state-room to dress, I heard him give the order to "down helm". The next moment the little hooker rose to an even keel, with a terrific slatting of canvas and whipping of relaxed sheets as she came head to wind; then, after a vicious plunge or two, head-on, into the long seas, she paid off on the opposite tack and heeled over to port. The shivering and slatting of the canvas, with the accompanying tremor of the hull, ceased, and the long, easy, floating plunges and soarings were resumed as she again settled easily into her stride. "Long gun all ready, sir," reported Simpson when at length I stepped out on deck fully dressed. "Shall we try a shot?" "Too far off," said I; "we should not get anywhere near her. Still, yes, you may waste a charge just by way of letting the fellow understand that we are in earnest. Give the muzzle a good elevation, and so aim that he may see that we want to pitch a shot across his forefoot. And at the same time let him see the colour of our bunting." The shot was accordingly fired and our ensign hoisted; but, so far as the former was concerned, we might as well have saved our powder, for the ball, although very well aimed, fell a long way short. But it had the effect of causing her to show her colours, which proved to be French. We fired no more, for there was nothing to be gained by wasting ammunition, and it was quite clear that the stranger had no intention of heaving-to until absolutely compelled to do so. We held on, therefore, uneventfully, until we were fairly in the brigantine's wake, and then tacked again, without waiting for orders from the commodore. It was by this time eight o'clock; the watch was called, the boatswain came aft to relieve Simpson, and San Domingo appeared, with the announcement that breakfast was ready. Before going below, however, I ordered young Keene to bring up my sextant, with which I very carefully measured the angle between the brigantine's main-topmast head and the top of her transom. When I had secured this I clamped the instrument and laid it aside for reference later. Then I instructed Jones to pick out the best helmsman he could find in his watch and send him aft to the tiller, explaining my reason for so doing. "After our performance of last night," said I, "I think we need have no fear as to our ability to overhaul that brigantine. But I want to do more than that; I want not only to overhaul her, but also to eat out to windward of her, so cutting off her escape in that direction. And, to accomplish this, and thus bring her the sooner to action, if she means to fight, we must have a thoroughly good man at the tiller, one who will let her go along clean full, yet at the same time coax and humour the little barkie every inch to windward that he can." "Yes, sir, I perfectly understands," answered the boatswain. "I knows exactly what you wants, Mr Grenvile, and I've got the very man for the job. I'll see to it, sir." And he took the tiller rope out of the hands of the man who was steering, giving him instructions to "send Bill Bateman aft." I found young Keene in high feather at the prospect of a tussle with so formidable an opponent as the brigantine promised to be, and we dispatched our breakfast in double-quick time, after which my lighthearted companion got out his pistols and proceeded to clean and load them carefully in anticipation of the moment when they might be needed. And when this was done he went forward to supervise personally the sharpening of his sword by the armourer. Meanwhile I took my sextant on deck, and had another squint through it at the chase. It was satisfactory to find that we were overhauling her rapidly. Then, having secured an observation of the sun for the determination of our longitude, I gave orders to clear for action, an operation which, in the case of so small a hooker as the _Francesca_, was a very simple matter. We had just completed all our preparations comfortably when Jones called my attention to the fact that the commodore was in stays, and presently she was round on the other tack and heading well up for us. But so far had we gained on her that, when at length we crossed her hawse, there was quite two miles of clear water between us. I commented upon this singular fact to Jones, remembering that when we parted company with the _Shark_ the _Dona Inez_ was distinctly the better sailer of the two, while now we were beating her in her own weather. "It's not very difficult to understand, sir," answered Jones. "The fact is that then we didn't know this here little beauty, and how to get the best out of her, while now we does. That's all that there is about it." And, as I could not otherwise understand the phenomenon, I was obliged to accept that explanation, and be satisfied with it. Six bells arrived, by which time the commodore was once more in our wake, having tacked again, while we had clawed out about half a mile to windward of the chase, and drawn so close to her that I determined to try the effect of another shot from the long eighteen upon her. The gun was accordingly reloaded, carefully trained, and the schooner luffed sufficiently to bring the gun to bear clear of our head gear. At the proper moment the gunner, who was squinting along the sights, gave the order to fire. The linstock was applied, the gun exploded, shaking the little vessel to her keel, and as the helm was put up to keep her away again, all eyes were strained to note the effect of the shot. It struck the water fair and true close astern of the chase, but without doing any damage, so far as we could see. But it was soon apparent that it had fallen too close to her to be pleasant, for the next moment her fore- rigging was alive with men, who swarmed up on to her yards as she put her helm up and kept away upon a south-westerly course, with the wind well over her port quarter. And that her skipper was a taut hand, who kept his men well up to the mark, was immediately afterwards evidenced by the wonderful man-o'-war-like rapidity with which they rigged out their studding-sail booms, and set a whole cloud of studding-sails on their port side. "Up helm and keep her away!" I shouted as I saw what the brigantine was at. "Away aloft there and out booms--get the larboard stu'n'sails upon her as quick as you please, lads. Steady as you go," to the man at the helm. "How's her head?" "Sou'-west and by west, half west, sir," answered the man. "Keep her at that," said I. The course which we were then steering was about half a point higher than that of the brigantine, and by following this I hoped to drop into her wake again in due time without losing any ground. We were now once more running off the wind, and the quick, jerky motions of the schooner had given place to a series of long, easy, buoyant, floating movements, much more conducive to accurate shooting than those which had preceded them. I therefore resolved to try the effect of at least one more shot from the long gun, especially as it became apparent that the brig had at last found herself upon her best point of sailing, and was gradually creeping up to us, while I was anxious to have to myself the honour and glory of bringing the brigantine to action without the assistance of the commodore. I therefore gave orders to reload the forecastle gun, and to aim high, with the object of disabling the chase aloft, and so clipping her wings. The gun was accordingly made ready and, at the proper moment, fired, the gunner waiting until a surge had swept under the little vessel and she was just settling into the trough in the rear of it, with her stern down in the hollow and her bows pointing skyward. Again came the flash, the jarring concussion, the jet of white smoke; and a moment later young Keene, who, in his excitement, had scrambled half-way up the fore-rigging, to note the effect of the shot better, gave a cheer of exultation. "Hurrah!" he yelled; "bravo, Thompson! well shot--clean through his topsail, and a near shave of clipping the topmast out of her." We presently fired again, this time cutting the royal stunsail sheet and setting the sail violently flapping, with the result that it had to be taken in before the sheet could be spliced. But we were not to be allowed to have matters all our own way very much longer, for while we were reloading the long gun a jet of flame, followed by a puff of white smoke, like a little wad of white cotton wool, suddenly leaped from the brigantine's stern port, and a 9-pound shot came whistling overhead, neatly bringing down our fore topgallant-mast, with all attached, on its way. We were now in a very pretty pickle, forward, for it was our wings that were clipped, much more effectually than we had clipped those of the chase; and now, too, the commodore came romping up to us, hand over hand. We were, however, not yet beaten, by a long way, and while a good strong gang was at once sent aloft to clear away the wreck, we on deck kept up a brisk and persistent fire upon the chase with our long gun. But whether it was that Thompson's hand had lost its cunning, or that the flapping and banging of the wreckage overhead disconcerted him and spoiled his aim, certain it is that we made no more hits just then. By the time that our wreckage had been cleared away, and everything made snug aloft once more, the commodore had forged ahead of us, and had begun to open fire, the brigantine returning his fire briskly from one stern port while she peppered us from the other. And presently a further misfortune, and this time a very serious one, overtook us, it happening that we both fired at the same instant, and while our shot clipped off the brigantine's topmast-studding-sail boom like a carrot, close in by the boom-iron, his shot passed through our topsail, so severely wounding the topmast on its way that, before anything could be done to save the spar, it snapped short off about half-way up its length; and there we were again, hampered with a further lot of wreckage to clear away. Meanwhile the commodore, profiting by the damage that we had inflicted upon the brigantine, rapidly overhauled her. The two craft maintained a brisk fire upon each other until, the _Dona Inez_ having ranged up alongside the chase, they both took in their studding-sails and went at it, hammer and tongs, broadside to broadside. This continued until, the brig's fore-topmast having been shot away, she broached-to and ran foul of the brigantine, to which she promptly made herself fast by means of her grappling irons. And the next moment the cessation of the gun fire, the flashing of cutlass blades in the sun, and the popping of pistols told us that the boarders were at work. "Avast there with the long gun!" I cried. "Boarders, stand by! Mr Keene, have the goodness to take charge. Stand by your halyards, men, and be ready to settle away everything, fore and aft, as we range alongside. Stand by also with your grappling irons. Mr Keene, we will range up on the brigantine's port side." "Oh, Dick, you might let me go with you, old chap; I've got my sword sharpened and my pistols ready expressly for the purpose of boarding!" pleaded Jack. "Can't possibly, my dear boy," answered I. "Somebody must look after the schooner, and you're that somebody; so please say no more about it. Now, lads," I continued, "we must make short work of this business; for if these craft lie alongside each other for ten minutes, in this sea, they will grind each other to pieces, and we shall all go to the bottom together. So strike, and strike hard, the moment that you find yourselves on the enemy's decks. Mr Jones, tell off six men to remain in the schooner with Mr Keene." Five minutes later and we were within half a cable's-length of the brigantine, on the decks of which a fierce and stubborn conflict was still raging; and it appeared to me that the commodore and his party were finding all their work cut out to avoid being driven back on the deck of their own ship. "Settle away fore and aft," I cried. "Main and fore halyards, peak and throat; jib halyards, let go; man your downhauls; and then muster in the waist, starboard side. Steady, Jack, starboard you may; steady, so. Now stand by your grapnels--heave! Hurrah lads, follow me, and take care that none of you drop between the two hulls!" The next instant we were all leaping and scrambling, pell-mell, in over the bulwarks of the brigantine and leaping down on her decks, which were already slippery with blood and cumbered with killed and wounded. Fortunately, by boarding on the brigantine's port side, as we did, we took her crew in their rear, which so greatly disconcerted them--while our appearance imparted fresh courage to the commodore's party--that after vainly striving to stand against us for nearly a minute, some flung down their weapons and cried for quarter, while the remainder made a clean bolt of it forward and darted down the fore scuttle, which we promptly closed upon them. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. SIERRA LEONE. The brigantine was ours, and, my first thought being for the safety of all three of the craft, I at once gave orders for the grappling irons to be cast loose, and for the brig and schooner to haul off to a safe distance. Then, looking round the deck of the brigantine, I noticed Freeman, the acting master of the _Dona Inez_, away aft, with his coat off, and one of his own men binding up the wounded arm of the officer. I hastened aft. "Not seriously hurt, Freeman, I hope?" said I. "Hullo, Grenvile, that you?" he returned. "No, thanks; rather painful, but not very serious, I hope. By Jove, but those Frenchmen fought stubbornly; if you had not come up in the very nick of time it would have gone pretty badly with us, I can tell you. You seem to have come off scot free, by the look of you." "Yes, I am all right, thanks--not a scratch," said I. "But where is Mr Fawcett? I don't see him aboard here." "No," answered Freeman, "poor chap! he is below, aboard the brig, and I am afraid it is a bad job with him. The last broadside that this craft fired into us was at pretty close quarters, as you perhaps noticed, and the skipper was very severely wounded by a large splinter--abdomen torn open. Hamilton, the assistant surgeon, is greatly afraid that it will go badly with him." "By Jove," said I, "I am awfully sorry to hear that! Could he see me, do you think?" "I really don't know," answered Freeman; "Hamilton is the man of whom you must ask that question. Your best plan, I think, will be to go aboard as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I suppose you will take charge and make all necessary arrangements." "Certainly," I said. "You, of course, will take command of the brig, and Keene must take command here, with just enough men to enable him to handle the ship, which, by the by, has a full cargo of slaves aboard, I perceive." There could be no possible doubt as to this last, for there was a thin, bluish-white vapour of steam curling up through the gratings which closed the hatchways, the effluvium emanating from which was almost unendurable. "You," I continued, "had better get back aboard the brig and set your crew to work to repair your damages aloft as quickly as possible--all other damage must remain until we arrive at Sierra Leone. I will do the same as soon as I have seen the prisoners properly secured. Our own damages are but slight, and as soon as I have put matters in train aboard the schooner I will send Simpson and a party aboard here to see to things, while I go aboard you to hear what Hamilton has to say. But we shall have to use the brigantine's boats, I expect, to get back to our own craft. I have not left enough hands with Keene to enable him to send a boat." This arrangement we duly carried out; but, owing to one delay and another, it was nearly three o'clock that afternoon when I was able to pay my promised visit to the brig, by which time Hamilton had coopered up all his most serious cases and was able to spare me a moment. "Ah, Grenvile," he exclaimed, as I descended into the brig's cabin, which, by the way, was almost as sumptuously arranged as that of the _Francesca_, and which the medico was then using as a surgery. "I am glad to see you and to learn that you don't need any of my delicate attentions! The skipper is very anxious to see you, poor chap, but he would not signal for you to come aboard, as Freeman told him that you intended coming as soon as possible, but that, in the meantime, you had your hands pretty full looking after things in general. This affair has been as sharp a thing of its kind as I have ever known, I think." "And how is he now, Hamilton? Do you think he can see me without detriment to himself?" I asked. "Certainly, if he is not asleep, as to which I will investigate," was the reply. "It will not harm him to see you," continued Hamilton; "on the contrary, it may do him good. For I fancy that he wishes to arrange certain matters with you, and when he has done that he will perhaps be able to compose himself and give himself a chance. Not that I think there is much hope for him; I tell you that candidly. But for pity's sake don't let your manner to him betray the fact that we are taking a very serious view of his case. If we can get him ashore, and into the hospital alive, he may perhaps pull round; so pray shove ahead with your repairs as fast as possible, and carry on like fury when you fill away again." "Trust me," said I. "If `carrying on' will _get_ him ashore alive, I'll do it. And now perhaps you had better ascertain whether I can see him or not, for the sooner I am free again to look after matters the sooner shall we be able to make a start." Without further loss of time Hamilton tiptoed to the door of the skipper's state-room, and, having very gently turned the handle and looked in, beckoned me to enter. "Mr Grenvile to see you, sir," said the surgeon, ushering me in. "Ah, Mr Grenvile, come in; I am glad to see you," said the poor fellow, extending his hand to me. "Make room for yourself on that sofa locker there; never mind my clothes, pitch them down anywhere, I shall never want them again." "Oh, I don't know, sir!" said I, affecting to misunderstand him, as I took the garments one by one and hung them upon hooks screwed to the bulkhead. "This coat, for instance," said I, holding it up, "will clean very well, I should think, but the waistcoat and trousers--well, I'm afraid you will need new ones, for these seem to be past repairing." "You misunderstand me, Grenvile," he said. "But never mind, we'll not talk about that just now; I have other and more important matters that I wish to speak about. And first of all, as to our losses, I fear they have been very heavy, have they not?" "No, sir," said I. "On the contrary, they are very light indeed, compared with those of the enemy. We have lost only five killed and eleven wounded, your case being the most serious of the latter, and Hamilton tells me that he hopes to have all hands of you up and as hearty as ever within the month." "Does he--does he really say that? God be thanked for that good news!" exclaimed the poor fellow with more energy than I could have expected from a man presenting such a ghastly appearance as he did. For his cheeks were sunken, and white as chalk, and his lips were quite blue. "The fact is, Grenvile," he continued, "that I don't want to die yet, if I can help it; not that I am not prepared to die, if it be God's will to take me, for, thanks be to Him, I am ready to go at any moment, if the call should come, as all men should be, especially soldiers and sailors, who are peculiarly liable to receive their summons at a moment's notice. No, it is not that, but I should like to live a little longer, if it might be so, for--for many reasons, the chief of which is that I have a wife at home--whose--whose heart--" The dear fellow was getting a little excited, I saw, and that, of course, would be bad for him, so I cut in: "Never fear, sir," I exclaimed cheerily. "You will ride this squall out all right, I've not a doubt of it. You must not judge by your present feelings, you know. Just now you are exhausted with loss of blood and the pain of your wound, but I intend to carry on and get you ashore and in hospital within the next three days, please God, and once you are out of this close cabin, and in a nice airy ward, with proper nurses to look after you, you will begin to pull round in a way that will astonish you. You are in no danger, sir; Hamilton told me so, and I should think he ought to know." It was useless to lie unless it were done boldly, and I inwardly prayed that my pious fraud might be forgiven. "Well, well, I hope so," the poor fellow gasped. "At all events I will try to hold on until we arrive, and then perhaps I may get my step. If I got that--" "Get your step, sir?" I cut in again. "Of course you will get it! I only wish I were half as certain of getting the ten thousand a year that my uncle has promised to leave me when he dies. Get your step? Why, sir, it is as good as in your pocket already." "You think so?" asked he doubtfully. "I wish I could feel as sure of it as you do, my boy--ay, I wish I could feel as sure of it as I am that you will get your commission--for get it you shall, if anything I can say will help you to it. And that reminds me, Grenvile, that I wish to say how perfectly satisfied and highly pleased I have been with your conduct and gallantry in this affair. You handled your schooner with the very best of judgment, and indeed, but for you the fellow might have slipped away from us altogether. I will take care to make that quite clear to the commodore in my report to him." I thanked him very heartily for his exceedingly kind intentions toward me, and then we passed on to the discussion of certain other matters, with the details of which I need not weary the reader; and when I left him, an hour later, Hamilton assured me that his patient, although exhausted with his long talk, was none the worse, but rather the better, for my visit. "You have taken him out of himself, diverted his thoughts into a more cheerful channel, and it has done him good. We must play up that `step' business to the very last ounce," he concluded. When I went on deck, upon leaving poor Fawcett, I was gratified to find that the making good of damages aboard the brig was progressing apace, and that Freeman would be ready to make sail about sunset, while aboard the prize they were all ataunto again, with the damaged sails unbent and sent down, and fresh ones bent in their place. The schooner also had sent up and rigged a new topmast, set up the rigging, got the yards across, and the topsail set, with topgallant-sail and royal all ready for sheeting home. I therefore at once proceeded on board my own little hooker and packed Master Jack off, bag and baggage, to take charge of the prize, to that young gentleman's ineffable pride and delight. Then, as soon as all was ready we made sail in company, and, carrying on day and night, arrived at our destination without further adventure early in the afternoon of the third day after our engagement with the slaver. I had, of course, during the passage, made frequent enquiries each day as to the progress of poor Fawcett, but the best news that they could give me was that, while he seemed to be no worse, he was certainly no better. As soon, therefore, as the anchors were down I went alongside the brig, and having dispatched a messenger ashore in the schooner's gig with a message to the hospital authorities, proceeded with the difficult and delicate job of conveying the invalid ashore. To facilitate this the carpenter of the brig had, under Hamilton's supervision, prepared a light but strong framework, somewhat of the nature of a cot, with stout rope slings attached thereto, and when all was ready for the patient's removal this was placed on the cabin table, and six stout fellows then entered the state-room, and, carefully lifting the wounded man, bed and all, out of his bunk, gently carried him into the main cabin and laid him, just as he was, on the cot or stretcher. This we fortunately accomplished without seriously discomposing our patient, and the surgeon then administered a soothing draught, the effect of which was to put the sufferer to sleep in a few minutes. Hamilton having foreseen that it would be practically impossible to convey the stretcher and its burden up on deck by way of the companion ladder without injury to the patient, had caused some planks to be removed from the fore bulkhead, thus making a passage into the main hold, through which we now carried the stretcher, laying it gently down on the slave-deck immediately beneath the main hatch. Then the slings of the concern were hooked on to a tackle which had been lowered down the hatchway, and our patient was next not only hoisted up through the hatchway, but also slung over the side and lowered down into the stern-sheets of a boat waiting alongside to receive him. The rest was easy; we pulled ashore, lifted our burden--still on the stretcher--out of the boat, and carried him up to the hospital, where he was at once placed in a bed that had been made ready to receive him. And all this without awaking him, so that when at length he opened his eyes it was to find himself comfortably settled in a fine, light, airy ward, with one of the hospital surgeons re-dressing his wound. The change did him immediate good, and before I left the building I had the satisfaction of learning that there was a possibility of his recovery, although very little likelihood that he would ever be fit for active service again. Meanwhile the rest of the wounded, or rather such of them as it was deemed advisable to place in the hospital, had also been taken ashore, and I was free to attend to other matters. It is not necessary to describe in detail the conduct of all the business that I found it would be necessary for me to transact. Suffice it to say that I had a most satisfactory interview with the commodore of the station, at the end of which he complimented me very highly upon what he was pleased to designate as "the sound judgment and great gallantry" with which I had played my part, not only in the capture of the brigantine, but also in the affair of the _Indian Queen_. And, as a crowning mark of his approval, he presented me with an acting order as lieutenant, with an assurance that I might trust to him to see it confirmed. Emboldened by this favourable reception on the part of the great man, I ventured to hint that I believed poor Fawcett's recovery would be greatly hastened if he could be reasonably assured of getting his promotion, to which the old fellow very kindly replied: "Leave that to me, my lad, leave that to me; I am not so very old yet that I am not able to remember how you youngsters feel in the matter of promotion, or to sympathise with you. I shall probably be seeing Mr Fawcett to-day, and I venture to hope that my visit will do him more good than all the doctors in the hospital. Come and dine with me to- night; I want to hear the story of that _Indian Queen_ affair in a little more detail, and there are other matters upon which I may have something to say to you. And bring your shipmate--what did you say his name is? Keene--ah, yes, bring Mr Keene with you!" Full of elation at the good news that I felt I had to communicate to Fawcett, I hurried to the hospital, and found, to my regret, that he was not quite so well, having exhibited some symptoms of a relapse, and the doctor therefore seemed at first somewhat disinclined to let me see him. But upon explaining to him that I had a little bit of very good news to communicate, he said: "That, of course, makes a great difference. Yes, you may see him, for five minutes, which I suppose will be long enough to communicate your good news, and then come away again. You know your way up. Look in here on your return, and let me know the result of your interview." I went up, and found the poor fellow looking very haggard and ill, but he brightened up somewhat upon my entrance; perhaps he read good news in my jubilant expression. "Well, what is it, Grenvile?" he said. "You look as though you have something good to tell me." "I have," said I, pretending not to notice his altered looks. "I have, although perhaps I am not acting quite fairly by the commodore in forestalling him. He is coming to see you, sir, and, although he did not absolutely state as much in so many words, I have not the slightest doubt that he intends to give you your step. He has given me an acting order, and he therefore cannot, in common fairness, withhold your promotion from you. But naturally he would not take me into his confidence and categorically state his intentions toward you before mentioning the matter to you. But I feel as certain that you will get your step as I do that I am at this moment sitting by your bedside." "Well, that is good news indeed, and I thank you for so promptly bringing it to me," exclaimed the invalid. "And I must not forget to congratulate you, Grenvile, upon your good luck, which, I tell you plainly, I think you fully deserve. But, although an acting order is an excellent thing in its way, you will have to pass before you can get it confirmed, you know. Have you served your full time at sea yet?" "Yes," said I; "completed it last month. But it is rather awkward about having to pass, though. I fear there is very little likelihood of my being able to go for my examination here." "That is as may be," returned the lieutenant. "Anyhow, you cannot get away from here just yet; and it may be--I don't say it will, but it may be--that an opportunity may occur before you leave. How did the commodore treat you; did he seem fairly favourably disposed to you?" "Yes, indeed," said I. "`Fairly favourably' hardly describes his manner to me. I should have spoken of it as `very favourably'." "Well, I am right glad to hear it, and I congratulate you most heartily. You say that the old boy is coming to see me. Now, understand, boy, if I can put in a good word for you without shoving it in, bows first, and knocking the old gentleman's eye out with the flying-jib-boom, I will." The worthy fellow was now quite a different man from what he had been when I entered the room a few minutes earlier; I therefore thought this a favourable opportunity to top my boom and haul off; so, thanking him very sincerely for his kind intentions in my favour, I shook hands and bade him good day, promising to look in again upon him on the morrow. Keene and I duly dined with the commodore that evening; and when the cloth had been removed, and the servants had retired, the old gentleman said: "Well, Mr Grenvile, I called upon your friend Fawcett this afternoon, and had a fairly long chat with him, in spite of the doctors. The poor fellow will never be of any further use afloat, I am afraid; but he may yet do good service ashore if those fellows can patch him up sufficiently to enable him to go home. And I think they will; yes, I think they will. He was very much better when I left than when I arrived;" and the old boy's eyes twinkled good-humouredly. "It is wonderful," he continued, "what a little promotion will do for a man in his condition. Talking of promotion, I mentioned to him that I had given you an acting order, at which he seemed greatly pleased; and he said several things about you, young gentleman, which I shall not repeat, but which I was very pleased to hear, since they all go to confirm the good opinion of you that I have already formed. But he reminded me that before your acting order can be confirmed you must pass your examination. Now, do you feel yourself to be in trim to face the examiners at any moment?" "Yes, sir," said I, "provided, of course, that they don't try to bother me with `catch questions' of a kind that have no real bearing upon one's practical capabilities. I have worked fairly hard from the moment when I first entered the service; my character will bear investigation; I am a pretty good seaman, I believe; and Mr Teasdale, our master aboard the _Shark_, was good enough to report to the sk-- to Captain Bentinck, only the other day, that I am a trustworthy navigator." "Good enough to take a ship across the Atlantic, for instance, without assistance?" asked the old gentleman. "Yes, sir," said I. "I would not hesitate to take a ship anywhere, if required." "Good!" exclaimed the commodore; "I like your confident way of speaking. I like to see a young fellow who believes in himself. Well, well, we shall see, we shall see." Then he asked me to relate to him the whole story of the loss of the _Dolores_ and of the _Indian Queen_ incident, "from clew to earing", as he put it; and I told him the complete yarn, as he sat cross-legged in his low lounging chair, with a cheroot stuck in the corner of his mouth, listening, nodding his head from time to time, and frequently breaking in with a question upon some point which he wished to have more fully explained. He also put Master Jack pretty completely through his facings, so that, when at length we rose to go, he had acquired a very fair amount of information relating to us both. The Mixed Commission sat a few days later to adjudicate upon our prizes, with the result that all three were duly condemned; and we thus became entitled to a very nice little sum of prize money, for there was not only the value of the three craft, but also the head money upon the brigantine's cargo of slaves. Upon the declaration of judgment by the court the three vessels were promptly advertised for sale by auction, and brought to the hammer some three weeks later. As it was well known that all three were exceptionally fast craft the competition for their possession was expected to be particularly brisk, and the event justified the expectation, for upon the day appointed for the sale the attendance was a record one and the bidding remarkably spirited. To such an extent, indeed, was this the case that many of the knowing ones present hazarded the confident conviction that some of the bidders present would probably be found--if the truth about them could but be ascertained--to be secret agents of slavers, and that the vessels would, at no very distant date, be found to be employed again in their former trade. The brig was the first craft offered for sale, and after a very spirited competition she was ultimately knocked down to a Jew marine- store dealer at a very handsome figure. Then followed the brigantine, which also realised an exceedingly satisfactory price. With the disposal of this craft the competition slackened very considerably, which was not to be wondered at, for the schooner, although a smart little craft, was not nearly so valuable--especially from a slave trader's point of view--as either of the others; yet when she was at length knocked down she went for her full value, and, on the whole, the parties most intimately concerned had every reason to be very well satisfied with the total result of the sale. It was not until the next morning that the fact was allowed to leak out that the _Francesca_, had been purchased into the service. Meanwhile I had practically nothing to do, and I therefore spent most of my time in study, preparing myself for my examination, so that I might be ready to avail myself of the first opportunity to pass that should present itself. I filled in the gaps by visiting Fawcett at the hospital, and I was pleased to find that since the cheering visit of the commodore he had been making very satisfactory progress. It was on the afternoon of the day succeeding the sale of the prizes that the commodore sent for me. "Well," said he when I presented myself, "I suppose you are beginning to feel rather tired of kicking your heels about ashore here, are you not?" "Yes, sir," I said, "I must confess that I am, especially now that Mr Fawcett seems to be progressing so satisfactorily toward convalescence. I had hoped that the _Shark_ would have been in ere this; for although I have not been altogether wasting my time, I feel that I am not earning my pay; moreover, I prefer a more active life than I am leading here." "Quite right, young man, quite right," approved the commodore. "Nothing like active service for an ambitious young fellow like yourself. I understand that you have been working up for your examination lately. Well, to be quite candid with you, I don't think your chances of passing here are very bright--not because I consider you unfit to pass, mind you, but because it may be some time before an opportunity offers. But that is a misfortune which, perhaps, may be remedied. You have heard, I suppose, that your schooner has been purchased into the service?" "Yes, sir, I have," said I, all alert in a moment, for I hoped that this abrupt reference to the transaction boded good for me. "And I was exceedingly glad to hear it," I went on, "for she is a very smart, handy little vessel, and may be made exceedingly useful in many ways." "So I thought, and therefore I bought her," remarked the old gentleman. "It was my original intention to have made her a tender to the _Shark_-- in which capacity she would no doubt have proved, as you say, exceedingly useful; and I may further tell you that, subject to Captain Bentinck's approval, I intended to have put you in command of her. But certain news which has reached me this morning has altered all my plans concerning her, at all events for the present, and instead of making her a tender to the _Shark_ I now propose to send her across to the West Indies with dispatches of the utmost importance. You will therefore be so good as to proceed on board forthwith and take the command, give all her stores a thorough overhaul, and report to me what deficiencies, if any, require to be made good in order to fit her for the voyage across the Atlantic. I have issued instructions for your former crew to be turned over to her from the depot ship, and it will be as well, perhaps, for you to take over half a dozen extra hands from the late prize crew of the brig. I should like to be able to give you Mr Freeman as master, but I can't spare him; so you will have to be your own navigator. By the way, what sort of a navigator is Keene?" "Oh," I said, laughingly, "he can fudge a day's work as well as most people, sir!" "Ah," said the old gentleman, "I wonder whether you boys will ever be brought to understand that `fudging' is no good, except to bamboozle the master! How would any of you manage if by chance it fell to you to take a ship into port, and you could only `fudge' a day's work? Well, you shall take him with you; but hark ye, my lad, for his own sake you must make him stick to his work and do it properly, so that he may be ready for any emergency that may happen to come along. Come and dine with me to-night, and bring the young monkey with you. I'll talk to him like a Dutch uncle, and see if I can't stir him up to a sense of his responsibilities. One word more, my lad. An opportunity to pass may occur while you are over yonder; and if it does, I very strongly advise you to seize it." "Be assured that I will, sir," exclaimed I. "And--oh, sir, I really don't know how to express my gratitude to you for giving me such a splendid--" "There, there, never mind about that, boy," interrupted the old fellow hurriedly. "I know all that you would say, so there is no need for you to repeat it. As to gratitude, you can best show that by proving yourself worthy of the trust that I am putting in you, as I have no doubt you will. Now, run along and get aboard your ship, and the sooner you can report yourself ready for sea, the better I shall be pleased with you. Don't forget to-night--seven sharp!" I was probably the most elated young man on the West Coast that afternoon as I hurried from the commodore's presence and made my way aboard the sweet little _Francesca_, where I found the whole of my former crew, Keene included, already installed. "Hullo, Grenvile, what is the meaning of this?" was his enquiry as I went up the vessel's low side and passed through the gangway. "What's in the wind? Here have we all been turned over at a moment's notice, and there are already rumours floating about that we sail to-night." "No," said I, "it is not quite so bad as that, but it means that we are bound to the West Indies at the earliest possible moment, and it also means, Jack, you villain, that I have received strict orders from the commodore to work you down until you are as fine and as sharp as a needle. You will hear more about it to-night, my lad, when you and I go to dine with him, so stand by and look out for squalls!" "The West Indies? Hooray!" cried Jack. "The land of beauty and romance, of solitary cays with snug little harbours, each of them sheltering a slashing pirate schooner patiently waiting for us to go and cut her out; the land of fair women and hospitable men, the land of sugar plantations, lovely flowers, and delicious fruits, the land of-- of--" "Disastrous hurricanes, furious thunderstorms, yellow fever, poisonous reptiles, the horrible mysteries of voodoo worship, and so on, and so on," I cut in. "Oh, you be hanged!" retorted Jack recklessly. "It's a precious sight better than this pestilential West Coast at all events, say what you will. And as to work, that's all right; I don't care how hard you work me in reason, Dick. I know that I've been an atrociously lazy beggar, always more ready to skylark than to do anything useful, but I'm going to turn over a new leaf now; I am, indeed--you needn't look incredulous; I've wasted time enough, and I intend now to buckle to and make myself useful. And the commodore may `jacket' me as much as he pleases to- night--I know I deserve it--and I'll say nothing, but just promise to be a good boy in future. He's a jolly, kind-hearted old chap, and I don't care who hears me say so!" "Well done, Jack!" said I; "I've not heard you talk so much in earnest for a long time. But, joking aside, I am very glad indeed, old fellow, to hear that you are going to turn over a new leaf. As you very truly say, you have wasted time enough; the moment has arrived when, if you wish to make headway in your profession, as I suppose you do, you must begin to take life seriously, and realise that you were not sent into the world merely to skylark, although skylarking, within reasonable limits and at the proper time, is possibly a harmless enough amusement." CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE PIRATE BRIG AGAIN? We duly dined with the commodore that night, and I was able to promise him that he should have my complete requisition before noon the next day, at which he expressed himself much pleased. And after dinner, when the cloth had been drawn and the servants had retired, the dear old gentleman gave us both a very long and serious talking-to, which did us both a great deal of good, and for which I, at least, and Jack, too, I believe, felt profoundly grateful. We were a pair of very sober lads when at length we bade him good-night and made the best of our way aboard the saucy little _Francesca_. Jack and I got to work at daylight next morning, and by dint of really hard labour I was not only able to keep my promise of the previous night to the commodore, but to do rather better, for it was barely eleven o'clock when I entered his office and handed him my requisition. He read it very carefully through from beginning to end, asked me if I felt quite certain that it embodied the whole of my requirements, and, upon my replying that I was, at once signed it, bidding me to be off at once to get it executed and then to report to him. I saw that he was very anxious for me to get away as quickly as possible, and I therefore went straight from him to the various people concerned, and badgered them so unmercifully that the bulk of my requirements were alongside that same evening, while by breakfast-time on the following morning the last boatload had come off, and I felt myself free to go ashore, leaving Jack in charge, and report myself ready for sea. I was at the office even before the commodore that morning, and he expressed himself as being much gratified at the expedition with which I had completed my preparations. Then he unlocked his desk, and, extracting two packets therefrom, said, as he handed them to me: "There are your written instructions, and there are the dispatches, which I charge you to take the utmost care of and guard with your life, if necessary, for they are of the most vital importance. So important, indeed, are they that I tell you frankly I should not feel justified in entrusting them to so youthful an officer as yourself, had I anybody else that I could send. But I have not, therefore I cannot help myself, and I have every confidence that you will do your very utmost to carry out my instructions in their entirety. These are, that you proceed to sea forthwith, and make the best of your way to Kingston, in Jamaica, carrying on night and day, and pausing for nothing--nothing, mind you, for this is a matter in which hours, ay, and even minutes, are of importance. If you should happen to be attacked you must of course fight, but not otherwise, remember that! And if there should be any prospect of your being captured, wait until the last possible moment, until all chance of escape is gone, and then sink the packet. Remember, it must on no account be allowed to fall into the hands of the enemy. And upon your arrival at Kingston you are at once to make your way to the admiral, let the hour be what it will, day or night, and place the packet in his own hands. There, I need say no more now, for you will find all these matters fully set out in your written instructions. And now, good-bye, my boy, and God speed you safely to your destination! I know not what may lie before you on the other side, or whether we shall ever meet again in this world; but remember that in me you will always find a friend ready to help you to the best of his ability, and who will always be glad to hear of your welfare. Good-bye, lad, and God bless you!" And, with a hearty grip of his honest old hand, he dismissed me. Half an hour later we were under way and beating out to sea, showing every rag that we could stagger under, toward the belt of calm that separated the sea breeze from the trade wind that was blowing briskly in the offing. And so profoundly impressed was I with the urgency of the matter that had been entrusted to me that when at length we shot into the calm belt, rather than lose time by waiting for the trade wind to work its way inshore to the spot where we were lying, I ordered out the sweeps, and, turning the little hooker's nose to the westward, swept her out until we caught the true breeze. Then it was "out studding-sails to windward", and away we went again at racing speed. Luckily, nothing had been done by the Government people to spoil the little beauty's sailing qualities; she was precisely as she had been when engaged in her original nefarious trade, except that her slave-deck had been taken out of her; and long before sundown we had run the African coast clean out of sight, to the joy of all hands, fore and aft. We had but one adventure, if indeed it could be called such, on our passage across the Atlantic, and that occurred on our eighth day out from Sierra Leone. Up to then we had sighted nothing, and had had a very fine passage, the trade wind blowing fresh enough all the time to enable us to maintain an average speed of nine knots throughout the passage. But on the day of which I am now speaking, about six bells in the afternoon watch, we sighted a large sail ahead, and, some ten minutes later, another, following in the wake of the first. Both were, of course, hull-down when we first sighted them, and broad on our port bow, standing to the northward close-hauled on the starboard tack, but as they were carrying on heavily, and we were travelling fast, we rapidly rose each other, and it then became evident that the second craft, a very fine and handsome brig, was in pursuit of the other, which was a full-rigged ship, apparently a British West Indiaman. This surmise of ours as to the nationality of the leading ship was soon confirmed, for as we rushed rapidly down toward the two we hoisted our colours, in response to which she immediately displayed the British ensign, following it up by hoisting a series of signals to her mizzen royal-mast-head which, when completed, read: "Stranger astern suspected pirate." Here was a pretty business indeed, and a very nice question for me to decide on the spur of the moment. What was my duty, under the circumstances? On the one hand, here was a British merchantman, doubtless carrying a very valuable cargo, in imminent danger of being captured and plundered, and, possibly, her crew massacred, for the brig was overhauling the Indiaman hand over hand; while on the other were the explicit and emphatic instructions of the commodore to pause for nothing. It was certain that unless I interfered the Indiaman would be captured, and every instinct within me rose up in protest against the idea of leaving her to her fate, while the words of the commodore were: "If you should happen to be attacked, fight, but not otherwise". I reflected for a moment or two, and then decided upon my course of action. If we went on as we were going we should pass very close to the Indiaman, but if we shifted our helm about a point to the southward we should pass quite close to the brig. I therefore determined to make that very slight deviation from my course, and see what would happen. I could not hope to divert the brig from her chase of so valuable a prize as the ship, but it was just possible that I might, by opening fire on the pursuer, be lucky enough to bring down a spar or otherwise damage her sufficiently to afford the Indiaman a chance to escape. I therefore ordered the helm to be shifted, and gave instructions for the crew to go to quarters, to double-shot the broadside batteries and to open fire on the brig with our long eighteen the moment that we should come within range. That moment was not long deferred, and presently Thompson, the gunner, shouted: "I think we can about reach him now, sir." "Then fire as soon as you are ready," replied I. "And aim at his spars. It is far more important to shoot away a topmast than to hull the fellow." "Ay, ay, sir!" answered Thompson, and I saw him stoop behind the gun, directing the gun's crew with his hands as he squinted along the sights of the weapon. Another second or two, as the schooner rose over the back of a swell, he fired. The aim was a splendid one, but the elevation was scarcely sufficient, for the shot struck the craft's weather bulwarks fair between the masts, making the splinters fly. "Excellent!" I exclaimed. "Admirable! Don't alter your elevation, Thompson, for we are nearing him fast. Try again, as quick as you like." The gun was reloaded, and again fired; but this time, whether due to over-eagerness or some other cause, the gunner made a bad shot, the ball striking the water astern of, and some distance beyond, the brig. Then, while the men were reloading, nine jets of flame and smoke leapt simultaneously from the brig's side, and nine round shot tore up the water unpleasantly close under our bows. "How would it do to train the guns of the port broadside forward, and return his compliment?" asked Keene, who was standing close beside me. "No, Jack, on no account," said I. "I am saving up those two broadsides for a possible emergency, and if we were to fire now there would be no time to reload before we are down upon him. But go you, my hearty, and see that the guns of the starboard broadside are so trained as to concentrate their fire on a point at about fifty yards' distance." At this moment our Long Tom spoke again, and the next instant a loud cheer broke from our lads, for the shot had taken the brig's fore- topmast just below the sheave of the topsail-tye, and away went the fore-topsail, topgallant-sail, and royal over to leeward, while the flying and standing jibs and the fore-topmast staysail collapsed and drooped into the water under her forefoot, with the result that she instantly shot up into the wind. "Well done, Thompson!" I cried. "That will do with the long gun. Now stand by the starboard battery, and, as we pass under her stern, slap the whole broadside into her." The pirates, if such indeed they were, for the brig showed no colours, proved themselves to be a remarkably smart crew, for the wreckage had scarcely fallen when her fore-rigging and jib-boom were alive with men laying out and aloft to clear away the wreck. The Indiaman was now safe, for she would be away out of sight long before the brig could repair damages sufficiently to resume the pursuit, and if the skipper of the ship were as smart as he ought to be it would be his own fault if he allowed the brig to find him again. But I wished to make assurance doubly sure, and therefore, as we swept close past the disabled craft, at the imminent risk of being dismasted by her broadside, which, however, her people were too busy to fire, we slapped our starboard broadside right into her stern, with the extremely satisfactory result that a moment later her mainmast tottered and, with all attached, fell over the side, while the screams of the wounded rent the air. We must have punished her very severely indeed, for all that we got in reply was one solitary gun fired out of her stern port, which did no damage; and a quarter of an hour later we were out of her reach and not a ropeyarn the worse for our encounter. But I took very particular notice of the brig while we were near her, and although she was differently painted, having nothing now in the way of colour to relieve her jet-black sides save a narrow scarlet ribbon, I could almost have sworn that she was the identical brig that had destroyed the _Dolores_. We made the island of Barbados shortly before noon on the following day, and passed its southern extremity, soon after four bells in the afternoon watch, at the distance of about a mile, getting a peep into Carlisle Bay as we swept past without calling in. There were several men-o'-war and a whole fleet of merchantmen lying at anchor in the bay, off Bridgetown, which led me to conjecture that a large convoy had either just arrived from home or was mustering there for the homeward passage. The trade wind still favouring us, and blowing a brisk breeze, we sighted Saint Vincent that same afternoon, and passed its northern extremity about midway through the second dog watch; and finally, on the fourth day after passing Barbados, we made the island of Jamaica, and anchored off Port Royal just as eight bells of the afternoon watch was striking. The moment that the anchor was down I jumped into the gig and, leaving Jack in charge, pulled ashore, in the hope of finding the admiral in his office, although I feared that the hour was rather late. By the luckiest possible chance, however, it happened that, being exceptionally busy just then, he had deferred his departure for Kingston, and I caught him just as he was about to leave. The old gentleman seemed a good deal put out at finding that he was still to be further delayed and, with a gesture of annoyance, broke the seal of the packet containing the dispatches and began to read the first one, standing. Before he had read much above a dozen words, however, his look of vexation gave place to one of astonishment, and that, in turn, to one of intense satisfaction. "Well, I'll be shot! Most extraordinary! Aha! I begin to see light. Yes, yes, of course... Capital! splendid! I know how to checkmate 'em. Only just in time though, by Jove!" I heard him mutter as he read on, at first almost inaudibly, but louder and louder as his excitement grew, until he had completed the perusal of the principal document. Then he turned it over again and looked at the date, looked at it as though he could scarcely believe his eyes. Finally he turned to me and said: "On what date were these dispatches handed to you, young gentleman?" I told him. "Do you mean to say, sir, that you have made the passage across in a fortnight?" he demanded. "Yes, sir," I said. "But we happened to be exceptionally favoured in the matter of weather, and I have carried on day and night; in fact the studding-sails have never been off her from the moment when I squared away until I took them in for good about an hour ago." "What is your name, young man?" was the next question, for as yet he had only read the dispatch, leaving the covering letter and other documents for perusal at his leisure. "Very well, Mr Grenvile--good name that, by the by--excellent name-- name to be lived up to," he remarked when I had answered him. "Come and dine with me at the Pen to-night. I should like to have a little further talk with you. Seven o'clock sharp." Returning on board, I found that during my absence the health officers had been off, and had at first manifested a very decided disposition to make things exceedingly unpleasant for me because I had gone ashore before receiving pratique. However, the explanation afforded by Jack, that I was the bearer of important dispatches for the admiral, coupled with the fact that we had a clean bill of health, had mollified them, and as a matter of fact I heard no more about it. Having effected a change of clothing, I hailed a shore boat to come alongside, and in her proceeded to Kingston. The Admiral's Pen is situated some distance up the hill at the back of the town, and as I had no fancy for walking so far I decided that, if possible, I would hire some sort of conveyance to take me there. The question was: Where was I to obtain one? for although there were plenty of vehicles in the streets I could see no sign of the existence of such an establishment as a livery stable anywhere. At length, after I had been searching for nearly half an hour, I decided to enquire, and, looking about me for the most likely and suitable place at which to do so, I saw a large two- story building, the lower portion of which seemed to consist of offices, while, from the mat curtains which sheltered the balcony above, and the tables and chairs which stood therein, I guessed that the upper floor was the private part of the establishment. A glazed door giving access to the ground-floor part of the building bore upon it in gilt letters the words: "Todd & McGregor, General Merchants." I decided to enter. I found myself in a large warehouse-like place reeking of many odours, those of sugar and coffee predominating, while whole tiers of bags containing these commodities were stacked against the side walls, a huge conglomeration of miscellaneous goods and articles lumbering the remainder of the floor. Picking my way through these, I reached the back part of the building, which I found partitioned off to form an office, wherein a number of men, some in gingham coats and some in their shirt sleeves, were busily at work writing letters or inscribing entries in ledgers and day books. At my entrance one of them glanced up and then came forward, asking what he could do for me. I stated my difficulty, upon which he said: "There certainly are livery stables in Kingston at which you could hire a vehicle to convey you to the Pen; but I think it will be quite unnecessary for you to do so upon the present occasion, for I happen to know that our Mr Todd is engaged to dine with the admiral to-night-- indeed I believe he is at this moment dressing, upstairs. And I am sure he will be delighted to give you a seat in his _ketureen_. If you will be good enough to give me your card I will take it up to him at once." "Oh but," said I, "it is quite impossible that I can thus trespass upon the kindness of a total stranger!" "Not at all," answered my interlocutor. "Mr Todd will be only too pleased, I assure you. And as to `trespassing upon his kindness', this must surely be your first visit to this part of the world, or you would not talk like that. Have you been long in?" "I arrived this afternoon only, with dispatches from the West Coast," said I. "And you have never been in the West Indies before? Ah, that accounts for it! Now, if you will kindly take a seat and let me have your card, we can arrange this little matter in very short order." What could I do, under such circumstances, but hand over my card, still protesting? Two minutes later my new acquaintance reappeared with an invitation for me to walk upstairs. I was ushered into a large room, with the light so greatly dimmed by the closed jalousies, and the bare floor polished to such a glass-like slipperiness by the daily application of beeswax that I first ran foul of a chair, and then very nearly foundered in the endeavour to preserve my balance. I thought I caught a sound somewhat like that of a suppressed titter, but could not be certain. I, however, heard a very gentle and musical voice say: "How do you do, Mr Grenvile? I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. Lucy, dear, please throw open the jalousies. We are so dark here that Mr Grenvile cannot see where he is." Then, as the jalousies were flung back and the evening light streamed into the apartment, I became aware of a rather stout lady--very pale, but still good-looking, although she had probably passed over to the shady side of forty--standing before me with outstretched hand, waiting patiently for me to take it, while a young woman of about twenty years of age was advancing upon me from the window. With easy grace the elder lady introduced herself as Mrs Todd, and the young lady as her daughter Lucy. Then she invited me to be seated, explaining that her husband was dressing and would join us in the course of a few minutes. As a matter of fact it was about twenty minutes before Mr Todd--a typical Scotsman from head to heel, and speaking as broadly as though he had just arrived from `Glesca' instead of having been a resident in Kingston for a quarter of a century--made his appearance. But I certainly did not regret the delay, for those twenty minutes were among the most pleasant that I had ever spent in my life. Mrs Todd soon proved herself to be one of those gentle, kindly-mannered, sweet-dispositioned women with whom one instantly finds oneself on the most friendly and cordial terms, while Miss Lucy with equal celerity revealed herself as a sprightly, high-spirited maiden without a particle of artificiality about her, bright and vivacious of manner, with plenty to say for herself, but at the same time thoroughly sensible. As for Mr Todd, he was, as I have said, a typical Scotsman, but I ought to have added "of the very best sort", for from beneath his superficial businesslike keenness and shrewdness the natural kindliness and geniality of his disposition was constantly peeping through. As an instance of this I may mention that within five minutes of my meeting him he was insisting upon my making his house my home for as long a time as I might be on the island, which invitation his wife and his daughter were seconding with an earnestness that left me no room to doubt its absolute sincerity. And I may as well say, here and now, that when I subsequently put the hospitality of this delightful and warm-hearted family to the proof, so far from the performance falling short of the promise, I could not have been treated with greater kindness and consideration--ay, and I may even add, affection--had they been my own nearest relatives. We--that is to say, Mr Todd and myself--arrived at the Pen a few minutes before seven o'clock, and were forthwith ushered into the drawing-room, where we were received in most hospitable fashion by Sir Timothy and Lady Tompion, and where we found already assembled several captains and other officers from the men-o'-war then in harbour, with a sprinkling of merchants from Kingston and planters from the neighbouring estates, all very genial, jovial characters in their several ways. Having first introduced me to Lady Tompion, and allowed me a minute or two to pay my respects to her, Sir Timothy very kindly made me known to the officers and other guests present. Dinner having been announced, we all filed into the dining-room and took our places. The dinner was a distinctly sumptuous affair, and included many very delicious dishes and viands with which I then made my first acquaintance. But I need not dwell upon this part of the entertainment. Let it suffice to say that I enjoyed myself amazingly, the more so, perhaps, from the fact that everybody, from Lady Tompion downward, seemed to be vying with each other to put me at my ease and make me feel comfortable. Later, however, I found that I was mistaken as to this. People were not making any special effort in my behalf, but were simply exhibiting that remarkable geniality and friendliness of feeling that appears to be engendered by breathing the air of this lovely island. At length the moment arrived for us to make our adieux and go; but when I stepped up to Lady Tompion to say good-night she exclaimed: "Oh, but you are not going back to your ship, or to Kingston either, for that matter, to-night. Sir Timothy intends you to sleep here, and I have already made all the necessary arrangements. The fact is," she explained in a lower tone of voice, "that he wants to have a long chat with you, so Mr Todd will have to excuse you for this once. I see that he has already made up his mind to carry you off prisoner to his own house, but he must defer that until next time." This with a most charming smile to Mr Todd, who was standing close by waiting to say good-night. The guests having departed, Sir Timothy led the way into his study, and, having invited me to make myself comfortable in a cane lounging chair, while he settled himself in another, said: "Since parting from you at Port Royal this afternoon I have found an opportunity to read the private letter from the commodore which accompanied his dispatch, and what he said therein respecting yourself has greatly interested me; I have therefore arranged for you to sleep up here to-night in order that I may have the opportunity for a quiet chat with you. I may tell you, young gentleman, that the commodore's report of your conduct upon certain occasions has very favourably impressed me, so much so, indeed, that I am more than half-inclined to keep you here, instead of sending you back--but we shall see, we shall see. Now, just give me a detailed account of your entire services from the time when you first entered the navy, and tell it me as you would to any ordinary friend, for this conversation is not official; it is not a report from a midshipman to an admiral, but just a friendly chat between an elderly gentleman and a young one." Thus encouraged I got under way and spun my yarn as best I could, Sir Timothy interrupting me from time to time to ask a question or to elicit from me an explanation of some point which I had not made quite clear. We sat there talking until close upon three o'clock in the morning, and when at length we rose to retire to our respective rooms, Sir Timothy remarked: "Well, Mr Grenvile, I have listened to your story with a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction, and what you have told me has fully confirmed me in my half-formed determination to keep you here on the station for the present. Come to me at my office down at Port Royal, at--let me see--yes, say three o'clock to-morrow, or, rather, this afternoon, and I shall then have something more to say to you. Oh, and there is another matter upon which I intended to speak to you! I understand, both from the commodore and yourself, that you are anxious to pass, so that your acting order as lieutenant may be confirmed. Now it happens, very luckily for you, that an examination of midshipmen has been arranged for next week; it will take place aboard the _Achilles_, and I would strongly recommend you to send in your papers at once, for, from what you have told me to-night, I have no doubt that you will be able to pass without the slightest difficulty. And now, good-night! Breakfast will be on the table at eight o'clock sharp." On the following afternoon I landed on the wharf at Port Royal, and entered the admiral's office at the moment when "six bells" were being struck aboard the flagship. The old gentleman was busy at the moment signing a number of papers, but he paused for a moment to wave me to a seat, and then resumed his labours. Presently, having completed the signing of the papers, Sir Timothy delivered them to the secretary, who was waiting for them, and then, unlocking and opening a drawer in his desk, he withdrew a somewhat voluminous bundle of documents, which he placed on the table before him. "These," he said, "are letters and dispatches from merchants here in Kingston, as well as Bristol, Liverpool, and London; underwriters; and the Admiralty at home, all drawing my attention to the fact that of late--that is to say, during the last three or four months--certain ships, both outward and homeward bound, have failed to arrive at their destinations. It is suggested that, since during that period there has been no weather bad enough to explain and account for the loss of these well-found ships, their failure to arrive may possibly be due to the presence of a pirate, or pirates, operating somewhere among the islands, or perhaps in the waters of the western Atlantic. A very considerable amount of exceedingly valuable property has thus mysteriously disappeared, and strong representations have been made to Whitehall that vigorous measures should be taken to solve the mystery, with the result that I have been ordered to investigate. These orders arrived about a week ago, but up to the present I have been quite unable to obey them, for the very good and sufficient reason that every ship at my disposal is needed for work even more important than the hunting down of hitherto merely supposititious pirates. Your adventure, however, with the Indiaman and her mysterious pursuer, goes to prove that there actually is a pirate at work, and I must take immediate steps to put a stop to his activity. "And this brings me to my most serious difficulty. I have no vessel available for the service excepting your schooner, and no officer, except yourself, whom I can place in command of her. You must not feel hurt, young gentleman, if I say that, under ordinary circumstances, I should as soon think of attempting to fly as of confiding so difficult and dangerous a service to a mere midshipman. But what the commodore has written concerning you, supplemented by what I heard last night from your own lips, encourages me to hope and to believe that, young as you are, you may yet prove worthy of the confidence that I have decided to repose in you. You appear to be one of those rare young men who carry an old head upon young shoulders; you have proved yourself capable of thinking for yourself, and of possessing the courage to act upon your own responsibility; you exhibited very sound judgment and resource in that affair of the _Indian Queen_, and also in the affair of the Indiaman, which you certainly saved from capture. I am therefore going to take upon myself the responsibility of giving you a roving commission to hunt down and destroy that pirate. "Your greatest difficulty will of course be to find her. Fortunately for everybody concerned, you clipped her wings so effectually that she will be unable to do any more mischief until she has refitted; and, to do this, she will have to go into port somewhere. Your first task, therefore, will be to endeavour to discover the whereabouts of that port, and I therefore advise you to spend a few days, while your schooner is renewing her stores, overhauling spars and rigging, and so on, in making diligent enquiry among the craft arriving in port, with the object of ascertaining whether any of them happen to have sighted a disabled brig, and, if so, where, and in what direction she was steering. In the event of your securing a clue by this means, you will at once proceed to the port toward which she would appear to be steering, and continue your investigations there. If you should in this way be fortunate enough to get upon her track, you will of course follow up the clue, and act as circumstances seem to direct; but if not, you will have to prosecute your search and enquiries until you are successful. The service is an exceedingly difficult one to confide to so young a man as yourself; but, young as you are, you seem to possess the qualities necessary to ensure success; and, should you succeed, the achievement will tell heavily in your favour. "Now, that is all that I have to say to you at present, except that you had better get to work forthwith. Report progress to me here from time to time, and let me know when your schooner is again ready for sea. You had better allow yourself a full week for enquiries here, and if at the end of that time you have failed to learn anything, we must consider what is the next best thing to be done. And do not forget your examination." CHAPTER FIFTEEN. WE SAIL IN SEARCH OF THE PIRATE. Having received my dismissal from the admiral, I returned to the _Francesca_, and, summoning the purser, gave him instructions to overhaul his stores and prepare a requisition for everything necessary to complete for a two months' cruise. Then, sending for the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter, I in like manner instructed them to overhaul the hull, spars, standing and running rigging, and the contents of the magazine, and to report to me all defects or shortage of stores in their respective departments, and, generally, to prepare the little craft in every way for the task that lay before her. Then, there still remaining a couple of hours of daylight, I jumped into the gig again and pulled aboard four vessels that had arrived during the day, for the purpose of enquiring whether any of them had sighted or fallen in with the disabled brig. As was to be expected, I met with no success, but I was not in the least disappointed, for I had anticipated no other result; indeed I calculated that the ordinary slow-sailing merchantman who might perchance fall in with the pirate could scarcely be expected to reach Kingston until at least three or four days after the _Francesca_. Then, availing myself of the very pressing invitation that I had received from my new friend Mr Todd, I made my way to his house, where I spent a most delightful evening with him and his family. Upon learning that I expected to remain a full week in port, these good people at once proceeded to plan for my benefit a number of pleasure jaunts to places of interest in the neighbourhood; but I was far too profoundly impressed with the importance of the task assigned to me, and the responsibility that rested upon my young shoulders, to avail myself of their very great kindness further than to spend an evening or two with them. I divided my time pretty evenly between the schooner--personally seeing that no detail was overlooked in preparing her for her important task-- and the various craft that arrived in the port from day to day. Keene, eager to assist, undertook to penetrate, in mufti, the lower and more disreputable parts of the town, and to haunt the wharves upon the chance of picking up some small item of information relating to the mysterious brig which might prove of service to us. But all our efforts availed us nothing, for on the eighth day after our arrival we were no better off than we had been at the beginning. I contrived, however, to filch the few hours that were necessary to enable me to go up for my examination, with the result that I passed with flying colours, so the examiners were kind enough to say. My good friend Sir Timothy at once confirmed my acting order and presented me with the commission which bestowed upon me the rank of lieutenant in his Most Gracious Majesty's navy. On the evening of the eighth day after our arrival at Port Royal I went ashore to report to the admiral the discouraging fact that I had failed utterly to obtain any information whatever from any of the inward-bound ships relative to the piratical brig, for none of them, apparently, had sighted the craft. Moreover, Jack Keene's enquiries were practically as unsuccessful as my own; for although he had encountered one or two doubtful characters frequenting the low taverns near the wharves, who seemed to have some knowledge of such a vessel, it was all vague hearsay, and quite valueless. But although we had failed so entirely to obtain any information, the ship's company had been kept busily at work, with the result that the schooner was now as perfect in every item and particular of hull and equipment as human hands could make her. I therefore wound up my report with the statement that we were ready for sea, and could sail at literally a moment's notice. "So much the better," remarked the admiral, "and, since there is nothing to be gained by further delay, you had better make a start forthwith, so that you may be able to work your way out through the channel and secure an offing before nightfall. Now, have you formed any plans for the conduct of this cruise?" "Only those of the most general character, sir," replied I. "According to my reckoning the brig is by this time very nearly, if not quite, at the rendezvous, where she will refit. I fear, therefore, that there is not much likelihood of my falling in with her for some time to come-- until she has refitted and is once more at sea, in fact. But, in order that I may not throw away a possible chance, my idea is to stretch out toward the middle of the Caribbean, and, having arrived there, to work to windward over the track that the brig would have to follow if she were making her way toward the head of the Gulf. Then, if I fail to fall in with her, it may be worth our while to overhaul the Grenadines-- there must be several small islands among them well adapted as a rendezvous for a pirate, and there is just a possibility that we may find her there. Failing that, I do not see that I can do anything else than work out clear of the islands and haunt the ground where the tracks of the inward- and outward-bound trade meet, since it seems to me that that is the spot where we are most likely to find the brig when she resumes operations." "Excellent!" exclaimed the old gentleman, approvingly. "You have thought out the identical scheme that suggested itself to me, and I hope that by following it you will succeed in laying the fellow by the heels. Speak every craft that you may fall in with, make enquiries whenever you have the chance, and perhaps you may be lucky enough to pick up a slaver or two, and so make the cruise a profitable one in a double sense; for if that surmise of yours should happen to be correct, that this pirate brig is the identical craft that stole the slaves from your prize--the _Dolores_--and afterwards destroyed her, the fellow may have played the trick on other slavers, in which case they will be glad enough to give any information that may lead to his capture. And now the sooner that you are off the better, for you will have none too much daylight in which to work out clear of the shoals. So, good-bye, my lad, and good luck to you! Take care of your ship, your crew, and yourself, and bring the fellow back with you as a prize." So saying, with a hearty handshake the old gentleman dismissed me, and a quarter of an hour later the saucy little _Francesca_, in charge of a pilot, was turning to windward on her way out to the open sea. The sea breeze lasted us just long enough to enable us to clear the shoals and handsomely gain an offing of about three miles. Then it died away and left us wallowing helplessly in the heavy swell that was running. Meanwhile the sun sank beneath the horizon in one of those blazes of indescribable glory of colour which seem to be peculiar to the West Indies. The darkness closed down upon us like a shutter, and the stars leapt out of the rapidly darkening blue overhead with that soft, lambent, clarity of light which is never beheld save in the tropics. Then, after tumbling about uncomfortably for nearly an hour, we felt the land breeze, and, squaring away before it, soon ran off into the true breeze of the trade wind. The following three weeks passed uneventfully in carrying out the first part of the programme upon which Sir Timothy and I had agreed, including a very careful but fruitless search of the entire group of the Grenadines, between Grenada and Saint Vincent. After this we proceeded toward the spot which was to be our cruising ground, and called at the little town of Kingstown, in the latter island, for a few hours, in order to replenish our supplies and lay in a stock of fruit. Thus far we had been favoured with splendid weather, but on the fifth day out from Saint Vincent I observed that the barometer and the wind were falling simultaneously, and by sunset the trade wind had died away to nothing. The western half of the sky looked as though it were on fire, and the horizon in that quarter was piled high with great smears of dusky, smoky-looking cloud, heavily streaked with long splashes of vivid orange and crimson colour. As a spectacle it was magnificent, but the magnificence was gloomy, sombre, and threatening beyond anything that I had ever beheld. Nevertheless, I had seen skies not altogether unlike it before, and my experience had taught me that such gorgeously lurid displays of colour always portended the approach of bad weather, very frequently of the hurricane type. Furthermore, my "Sailing Directions for the West Indies" warned me that we were now in a part of the world which is subject to such terrific outbreaks of atmospheric strife. I therefore resolved to take time by the forelock. Fortunately in such small craft as schooners the amount of work involved in the operation of "snugging-down" is not great, and in less than half an hour we had got our yards and topmasts down on deck and the whole of our canvas snugly stowed, with the exception of the foresail, which, having been close-reefed, remained set, so that we might retain some sort of command over the vessel. Meanwhile the calm continued, but although the regular swell showed some disposition to subside, a heavy cross-swell was rapidly rising, which caused the schooner to plunge and roll in a jerky, irregular manner, and with such violence that at length it became almost impossible to stand without holding on to something, while to attempt to move about became positively dangerous. To add still further to the unpleasantness of the situation, the little hooker was constantly shipping water so heavily over her rail, bows, and taffrail that we were frequently up to our knees in it, although all the ports had been opened to allow it to run off. We contrived to complete all our preparations before it became too dark to see; and it was well for us that we did so, for when the darkness came it was a darkness that might be felt, for it was as though we were hemmed in by great black walls which might be touched by merely stretching forth one's hand, while the heat of the stagnant atmosphere was so oppressive as to cause the perspiration to pour from us in streams. This disagreeable state of affairs continued without break of any kind until about five bells in the first watch, when a cry of astonishment and alarm broke from the watch on the forecastle-head at the sudden appearance on the bowsprit of a ball of light of a sickly greenish hue, which I immediately recognised as a corposant, although I had never seen one before, but had frequently heard them spoken of and described. It was certainly a weird and uncanny sight to behold under such circumstances, and was well-calculated to strike awe into the minds of superstitious seamen, both from the suddenness and the mystery of its appearance, and from its ghostly and unnatural aspect as it poised itself out there on the end of the spar, clinging tenaciously thereto, and alternately flattening and elongating as it swayed in unison with the violent movements of the schooner. And while the men were still gaping at it, open-mouthed, its sickly radiance faintly illuminating their faces and causing them to wear the horrible aspect of decomposing corpses, two others appeared, one on each of the lower mast-heads. For perhaps two minutes, or it might have been a little longer, these last two ghostly lanterns swayed and lengthened and contracted with the wild plungings of the little craft. Then the one on the foremast-head let go its hold and went drifting away astern until it was lost to sight, while the one on the mainmast-head came gliding down the spar until it reached the flooded deck, and vanished as though extinguished by the washing of the water. While this was happening, the corposant on the bowsprit-end also let go its hold and came floating inboard along the spar, causing a regular stampede of the watch, who incontinently came rushing aft as far as the mainmast, to get out of the way of their uncanny visitor, which, however, vanished as it reached the knightheads. "Ah," remarked the gunner, who had charge of the watch, "that means that we're in for a heavy `blow', sir! I've seen them things often enough afore, and I've always noticed that when any of 'em comes inboard, like them two, extra bad weather is sure to foller. I partic'larly remembers a case in p'int when I was up the Mediterranean in the old _Melampus_. We was--" "Listen!" I broke in unceremoniously, as a low, hoarse murmur became audible above the voice of the gunner, the monotonous swish and splash of the water across the deck and in over the bulwarks, and the creaking and groaning of the ship's timbers. "Surely that is the wind coming at last!" At the same moment a gust of hot air came screaming and scuffling over us, square off the starboard beam, causing the foresail to fill suddenly with a report like that of a gun, and careening the schooner to her covering board. "Hard up with your helm, my man; hard up, and let her pay off before it!" I shouted to the man at the helm, while the sound that I had heard increased rapidly in volume, and a long line of white foam, rendered luminous by the phosphorescent state of the water, appeared broad on our starboard beam, sweeping down upon us with appalling velocity. Fortunate was it for us that a preliminary puff had come to help us, for it lasted just long enough to permit the little hooker to gather steerage way and partially to pay off, far enough, that is to say, to bring the onrushing hurricane well over her starboard quarter. Indeed, had the gale happened to strike us square abeam, and with no way on the ship, I am convinced that she must have inevitably turned turtle with us. As it was, when, a few minutes later, the wind swooped down upon us with the fury of a famished wild beast leaping upon its prey, and with a mad babel of terrifying howls and shrieks that utterly baffles description, the little vessel heeled down beneath its first stroke until her lee rail was buried, and the water rose to the level of her hatchway coamings; and but for the fact that she was at that moment not only forging ahead, but also paying off, there would have been an end of all hands, then and there. For what seemed to be, in our anxious condition, a veritable age, but which was probably no more than a brief half-minute, the little vessel lay there, quivering in every timber, and seemed paralysed with terror, as though she were a sentient thing. The wind yelled and raved through her rigging, and the spindrift and scud- water--showing ghostly in the phosphorescent light emitted by the tormented waters--flew over us in blinding, drenching showers. Then, with a sudden jerk the schooner rose almost upright and, with the water foaming about her bows to the level of her head rails, she sped away to leeward at a pace that seemed absolutely impossible to even so swift a craft as she had proved herself to be. We scudded thus before the gale for nearly an hour, when, availing ourselves of a temporary lull in its fury, we brought the schooner to the wind and hove her to on the starboard tack; but, even then, so tremendous was the force of the wind that, although she showed to it nothing but a close-reefed foresail, the little vessel was buried to the level of her rail. So violent was the first swoop of the hurricane that the surface of the ocean was as it were crushed flat by it, and the slightest irregularity that presented itself was instantly torn away and swept to leeward in the form of spray. Thus for the first hour or so it was impossible for the sea to rise. At the end of that time, however, the tormented ocean began to assert itself, and, although their crests continued to be torn off by the violence of the wind, the seas steadily rose and gathered weight, until by midnight the little _Francesca_, was being hove up and flung about as violently as a cork upon the surface of a turbulent stream. And now another of the schooner's many good qualities revealed itself, for, despite the furious violence of both wind and wave, the little craft rode the raging seas as buoyantly and as daintily as a sea gull, and shipped not so much as a spoonful of water, excepting, of course, such as flew on board in the form of spray. Even of that small quantity we had very little after the schooner had been brought to the wind, for the tremendous pressure of the gale upon her spars and rigging, and upon the small area of her close-reefed foresail laid her over at so steep an angle, and caused her to turn up so bold a weather side, that most of the spray flew clean over her and was swept away to leeward. The temporary lull in the gale, of which we had taken advantage to heave-to the schooner, lasted only just long enough to enable us to accomplish that manoeuvre. It was well for us that we availed ourselves so promptly of the opportunity, for no other occurred; on the contrary, after that brief lull the gale seemed to increase steadily in fury to such an extent, indeed, that at length I felt that I should not have been in the least surprised had the schooner been blown bodily out of the water and whirled away to leeward like an autumn leaf. Needless to say, that night was one of intense anxiety to me, for the responsibility for the safety of the schooner, and all hands aboard her, rested entirely upon my shoulders. I had already done all that was possible in the way of precaution, while I felt that, despite the magnificent behaviour of the little craft, an exceptionally heavy sea might at any moment catch her at a disadvantage and break aboard her, in which event she would most probably founder out of hand. So great, indeed, was my anxiety that I found it impossible to quit the deck for a moment, although my subordinates were thoroughly steady, trustworthy men, and had far more experience than myself. With the men forward it was totally different. Their minds were thoroughly imbued with the seaman's maxim: "Let those look out who have the watch," and those whose watch it was below turned in without the slightest hesitation or qualm of anxiety, trusting implicitly to those in charge of the deck to do everything that might be necessary to ensure the safety of the ship. To me it seemed as though that terrible night would never end, and even when at length the hour of dawn arrived there was no perceptible amelioration in the conditions. The darkness remained as intense as it had been at midnight, and it was not until eight bells--in this case eight o'clock in the morning--that a feeble glimmer of daylight came filtering through the opaque blackness of the firmament over our heads, dimly revealing the shapeless masses of flying cloud and scud, and permitting us to view our surroundings for a space of about a quarter of a mile. But, contracted as was our view, it was more than sufficient to impress us with a deep and overwhelming sense of the impotence of man in the presence of God's power as manifested in this appalling demonstration of elemental fury. Now, even more than during the hours of darkness, did we appear to be constantly on the point of being lifted out of the water by the terrific strength of the wind. As often as the schooner was hove up on the summit of a sea, and thus exposed to the full force of the hurricane, we could feel her tremble and perceptibly lift when the wind struck her beneath her upturned bilge. As for the sea, I had never seen anything like it before, nor have I since. When people desire to convey the idea of an exceptionally heavy sea they speak of it as running "mountains high". In the case of which I am now speaking the expression appeared to be no exaggeration at all, for as wave after wave came sweeping down upon us with uplifted, menacing crest, looking up to that crest from the liquid valley in front of it seemed like gazing up the side of a mountain which was threatening to fall upon us and crush us to atoms. Indeed, the wild upward sweep of the schooner, heeling almost to her beam ends as she was flung aloft upon the breast of the onrushing wave, was an experience terrifying enough to turn a man's hair grey. Yet, after watching the movements of the schooner for about half an hour, and noting how, time after time, when the little barkie seemed to be trembling on the very brink of destruction, she unfailingly came to in time to avoid being overwhelmed, I grew so inured to the experience that I found myself able to go below and make an excellent breakfast with perfect equanimity. It was about five bells in the forenoon watch, and it had by that time grown light enough for us to discern objects at a distance of about a mile, when, as the schooner was tossed aloft to the crest of an exceptionally gigantic wave, Simpson--whose watch it was--and I simultaneously caught sight for a moment of something that, indistinctly seen as it was through the dense clouds of flying scud-water, had the appearance of a ship of some kind, directly to windward of us. The next instant we lost sight of it as we sank into the trough between the wave that had just passed beneath us and that which was sweeping down upon us. When we topped this wave soon afterwards, we again caught sight of the object, and this time held her in view long enough to identify her as a large brigantine, hove-to, like ourselves, on the starboard tack, under a storm-staysail. Unlike ourselves, however, she had all her top- hamper aloft, forward, and seemed to be making desperately bad weather of it. The glimpses that we caught of her were of course very brief, and at comparatively long intervals, for it was only when both craft happened to be on the summit of a wave at the same moment that we were able to see her. Yet two facts concerning her gradually became clear to us, the first of which was that she was undoubtedly a slaver--so much her short, stumpy masts and the enormous longitudinal spread of her yards told us,--the second was that she was steadily settling down to leeward at a more rapid rate than ourselves, as was only to be expected from the fact that she was exposing much more top-hamper to the gale than we were. It would not be long, therefore, before she would drive away to leeward of us, probably passing us at no very great distance. Now, although we were fully convinced that the craft in sight was a slaver, yet we had no thought whatever of attempting to take her just then, for the very simple reason that to do so under the circumstances would be a manifest impossibility. In such an awful sea as was then running we could only work our guns at very infrequent intervals and with the utmost difficulty, while, if we were to hit her, we would do so only by the merest accident. And even if we could contrive by any means to compel her to surrender to us, we could not take possession of her. Our interest in her was therefore no greater than that with which a sailor, caught in a heavy gale, watches the movements of another ship in the same predicament as his own. Meanwhile, by imperceptible degrees she was steadily driving down toward us, until at length she was so close, and so directly to windward of us, that I almost succeeded in persuading myself that there were moments when I could catch, through the strong salt smell of the gale, a whiff of the characteristic odour of a slaver with a living cargo on board. Nor was I alone in this respect, for both Simpson and the man who was tending the schooner's helm asserted that they also perceived it. But now a question arose which, for the moment at least, was even more important than whether she had or had not slaves aboard, and that was whether she would pass clear of us or not. She had settled away to leeward until she had approached us to within a couple of hundred yards, and as the two craft alternately came to or fell off it alternately appeared as though the stranger would pass clear of us ahead, or fall off and run foul of us. The moment had arrived when it became necessary for one or the other of us to do something to avert a catastrophe; and as those aboard the brigantine gave no indication of a disposition to bestir themselves I ordered Simpson to have the fore-staysail loosed and set, intending to forge ahead and leave room for the other craft to pass athwart our stern. The fore-staysail sheet was accordingly hauled aft, and four men laid out on the bowsprit to loose the sail. This was soon done, and then, when we next settled into the trough of the sea, and were consequently becalmed for the moment, the halyards were manned and the sail hoisted. The brigantine was by this time so dangerously near to us that, even when we were both sunk in the trough of the sea, it was possible for us to see her mast-heads over the crest of the intervening wave, and I now kept my eye on these with momentarily increasing anxiety, for it appeared to me that we were in perilous proximity to a hideous disaster. And then, as the schooner swept upward on the breast of the oncoming wave, I saw the spars of the brigantine forging slowly ahead as the ship to which they belonged fell off, and my heart stood still and my blood froze with horror, for it became apparent that the two craft were sheering inward toward each other, and that nothing short of a miracle could prevent the brigantine from falling foul of and destroying us. For as her spars rose higher into view I saw that her people, too, had set their fore-staysail, and that the two craft, impelled by their additional spread of sail, were rushing headlong toward each other. A Middy in Command--by Harry Collingwood CHAPTER SIXTEEN. SOME VICISSITUDES OF FORTUNE. "Hard up with your helm," I shouted, "hard over with it; we must take our chance of being swamped. Better that than that both craft should be destroyed." And, dashing aft, I lent my assistance to the man who was tending the helm. Then ensued a breathless, hair-raising fifteen seconds, during which it seemed impossible for the schooner and the brigantine to avoid a collision--in which case they must have sunk each other out of hand. Then, when the two craft were not more than fifteen feet apart, the schooner's head fell off, she turned broadside-on to the sea, and, our people smartly hauling down our fore-staysail, the brigantine drew slowly ahead and clear of us, our bowsprit-end missing her mainboom by the merest hairbreadth, and the danger was over. But during that minute or so of frightful suspense, which the stranger's crew had spent in rushing madly and aimlessly about the decks, execrating us in voluble Spanish, an opportunity had been afforded us to ascertain that the brigantine was named the _San Antonio_, and that she was beyond all question a slaver, with a cargo on board. We contrived to avoid her without shipping so much as a drop of water, thanks mainly to the fact that the brigantine had served, at the critical moment, as a floating breakwater for us. Putting our helm down again the moment that we were clear of her, we came safely to the wind again on her weather quarter. Had we allowed matters to remain as they were before our narrow escape, the _San Antonio_ would soon have parted company with us, for, as I said before, she was driving to leeward much more rapidly than we were. Now that would not suit me at all, for since I had made certain that she was a slaver, I was determined to capture her as soon as the weather should moderate sufficiently to allow us to do so. Therefore, when she had drifted about half a mile to leeward of us, I gave instructions that the helm should be eased up as often as opportunity permitted. The result of this was that we contrived to make our own lee drift amount to about the same as hers, thus maintaining no more than a bare half-mile of water between us. Shortly after noon the gale broke, the sky quite suddenly cleared, and an hour later we were able to set the fore-staysail and shake a reef out of the foresail in order to steady the ship. Although the sea was still running too high to permit of our bearing up and running down to the brigantine, we managed to edge down a little nearer to her, so that by eight bells in the afternoon watch we had reduced the distance to something like the eighth part of a mile. At this distance we were able to maintain a pretty close watch upon the craft, and half an hour later we detected signs indicative of a determination on the part of her crew to make sail. Evidently they distrusted us as a neighbour, and were desirous of putting a little more water between us and themselves. Seeing this, I took a long look round to ascertain what our chances might be should we attempt to bear up and run down to her. There was still a very high, steep, and dangerous sea running, to attempt to run before which would be hazardous in the extreme; for should we happen to be pooped by even a single one of them, the least that could happen to us would be that our decks would be swept, and very possibly we should lose several men overboard, to save whom would be impossible in that mountainous sea, while it was quite on the cards that the schooner might be swamped out of hand and go to the bottom with all the crew. But I remembered that among our stores there was a quantity of lamp oil, and I believed that a few gallons of this, towed astern in a porous bag, would smooth the water sufficiently to prevent the seas from breaking aboard during the short time that we should need to enable us to run down to the brigantine, and I gave orders to have such a bag prepared and dropped over the stern. Meanwhile the crew of the brigantine had not been idle, for scarcely had I given the order to prepare the oil bag when her people proceeded to set their jib, close-reefed topsail, and double-reefed mainsail, with the evident determination of escaping from our neighbourhood with as little delay as might be. I thereupon ordered our colours to be hoisted and a shot to be fired across her forefoot as a gentle hint for her to remain where she was. To my surprise--for slavers do not often fight when they find themselves opposed to a superior force--the brigantine promptly replied to our single shot by letting drive at us with her starboard broadside of four 9-pounders, none of which, however, came near us, for the sea was altogether too high to allow of accurate shooting. For this reason I refrained from firing a second time, but replied to our antagonist by making sail, for it now appeared as though she had some hope of escaping to windward by outsailing and weathering upon us. Evidently her people did not know the little _Francesca_! The first quarter of an hour of the chase sufficed to prove that the _San Antonio_ could not possibly escape us in the manner that her people had evidently believed would be successful. Not only did we outsail her, but we also contrived to edge down upon her to within about a cable's- length, when her skipper deliberately opened fire upon us with his broadside guns, apparently with the hope that a lucky shot would knock away a spar or two aboard us, and thus compel us to abandon the chase. But this was a game that two could play at, and since the rascal seemed determined not to yield without a fight we cleared away our Long Tom and proceeded to return his compliments. To shoot with any degree of accuracy in such a sea was impossible, and I was particularly anxious to avoid hulling the fellow, for I knew that this would mean the killing of several of the unfortunate slaves in her hold. I therefore gave instructions to the men working the gun to exercise the utmost care, and to fire only when they could be reasonably certain that their shot would not strike the brigantine's hull. By observing this precaution we at length succeeded in shooting away his fore-topmast, and thus rendering him helpless to continue his flight. Whereupon, like a sensible fellow, he ran the Spanish flag up to his gaff, allowed it to flutter there for a moment, and then hauled it down again in token of his surrender. Our chance encounter with the brigantine thus ended satisfactorily enough, so far as we were concerned. However, it was not until the next morning that the weather had moderated sufficiently to enable us to take possession of our prize, when we found that we had captured a very smart vessel of two hundred and sixty-five tons measurement, with a cargo of three hundred slaves on board, bound for Havana. I lost no time in turning her over to Jack Keene, with a prize crew of twelve men, with instructions to take her into Port Royal for adjudication, and to await there the arrival of the schooner. Before parting company I seized the opportunity to question the crew of the _San Antonio_ as to the brig of which I was in search, but they professed to know nothing whatever of her. By midday all signs of the hurricane had disappeared, the sea had gone down, and the trade wind had returned, blowing briskly out from about east-north-east. It was therefore a fair wind for the prize, and half an hour after I had secured a meridian altitude of the sun for the determination of our latitude Master Jack bore up, dipped his colours, and squared away. Now ensued a fortnight of uneventful and wearisome cruising along the parallel of 21° north latitude, and between the meridians of 62° and 74° west longitude, that being the line upon which I thought it most likely that I might encounter the pirate, or at least gather some news of him. During that period we sighted and spoke not far short of forty sail, of one sort and another, both outward and homeward bound, but learned not a word that would furnish us with a clue to the whereabouts of the craft that we were so anxiously seeking. I was beginning to fear that our quarry had betaken himself to some other cruising ground altogether, when one morning, at dawn, Simpson, who had charge of the watch, sent down word to say that there was a brig in sight that he would very much like me to come up and look at, as he seemed to recognise her. Accordingly, without waiting to dress I tumbled out of my bunk and made my way up on deck. We were on a bowline under short canvas at the time, to the eastward of the Silver Bank, the tail of which we had cleared about an hour before, while the stranger was apparently hove-to dead to windward of us, and hull-down from the deck. There was not much to be learned by looking at the stranger from the level of the deck. I therefore slung the glass over my shoulder and made my way aloft as far as the main cross-trees, from which a full view of her was to be obtained. But before so much as taking a single look at her through the telescope, her behaviour assured me that she must be either a ship of war, or a craft of decidedly suspicious character. For no ordinary trader would be lying hove-to, just where she was; the inference therefore was indisputable that, if not a man-o'-war, she must be lurking just off the entrance of the Windward Passage for some unlawful purpose. If by any chance the craft in sight should prove to be the one that we were after, I believed that I should be able to recognise her upon my first glimpse of her through the telescope. When I got aloft and brought my instrument to bear upon her, I found, however, that she was just in the very thick of the dazzle of the newly risen sun, and it was not until I had been aloft quite a quarter of an hour that I was able to see her at all distinctly. Even then I could discern no details of painting; I could not make out whether her hull was painted black or green, whether she had painted ports, or merely a narrow ribbon, or had neither. She showed against the strong light of the eastern horizon simply as a dainty jet-black silhouette, rising and falling lazily upon the long swell. But after looking long and steadfastly at her I came to the conclusion, in the first instance, that she was not a man-o'-war, and, in the next, that her general shape and style of rig were sufficiently familiar to justify me in the belief, or at least the suspicion, that I had seen her before. At all events it was my obvious duty to get near enough to her to enable me to ascertain what business she had to be lying-to just where we had happened to find her, and I accordingly gave Simpson instructions to make sail, and then see all clear for action. It was evident that, whatever might be the character of the stranger, those aboard her were fully as wide awake as ourselves, for no sooner did we start to make sail than she did the same, with a celerity, too, that would not have disgraced a man-o'-war. Within five minutes of my having given the order to make sail, both craft were thrashing hard to windward, under all plain sail to their royals. And then we were not long in discovering that, fast as was the _Francesca_, the stranger appeared to be nearly if not quite as fast, although we in the schooner seemed to be rather the more weatherly of the two. This, however, might simply mean that the skipper of the brig was intentionally allowing us to close very gradually with him, in order that he might have the opportunity to get a nearer look at us, and so be enabled to form a better judgment regarding our character, while making his own preparations, if indeed he happened to be the craft for which we were looking. And of this I became increasingly convinced as we gradually neared the brig; for although she was now painted dead black to her bends, without any relief whatever, of colour, there were certain little details and peculiarities of shape and rig that I felt convinced I had seen before. At length, about three bells, that is to say half-past nine-o'clock, in the forenoon watch, the skipper of the brig seemed to have made up his mind to a definite course of action, for he suddenly put up his helm, squared away, and came running straight down for us. Whereupon we in the schooner at once went to quarters, cast loose the guns, opened the powder magazine, and got a good supply of ammunition up on deck, at the same time hoisting our colours. The stranger, apparently, was not quite so willing as ourselves to display the hue of his bunting; at all events we saw none. But this might have been due to the fact that his gaff-end was obscured from our view by the spread of his topsails. When about half a mile to windward of us the brig, which we could now see was a most beautiful craft, suddenly rounded-to, clewed up her courses and royals, hauled down her flying-jib, and, throwing open her ports, let fly her whole broadside of 9-pounders at us, the shot humming close over our heads and considerably cutting up our rigging. And at the same instant a great black flag went soaring aloft to her gaff-end! "So," said I to Simpson, who was standing close beside me, "that clears the ground and enables us to know just where we are. With that black rag staring us in the face there is no possibility of making a mistake. Return his fire, lads, as your guns come to bear, and be careful not to throw a single shot away. Aim at his spars first; then, when we have crippled him, we will close and finish him off." But in talking thus I was reckoning without my host, for the brig carried more than twice our weight of metal in her broadside batteries, and a long thirty-two on her forecastle as against our own long eighteen. In a word, I soon found that I had caught a Tartar, for her crew were quite as nimble as our own, and quite as good shots, which was worse. Thus, when it came to playing the dismantling game, which seemed to be the object of both craft, we soon found that we were suffering much more severely than our antagonist. The skipper of the brig saw this quite as clearly as we did, and presently, believing that he had us completely in his power, he bore up and ran down toward us, with the evident intention of boarding. "Mr Simpson," said I, "that fellow looks very much as though he intended to lay us aboard. That ought to suit us a great deal better than playing at long bowls, so please have both broadsides and the long gun double-shotted, and we will give him everything we can as he ranges up alongside, and then board him in the smoke, instead of waiting for him to board us." "An excellent plan, sir, I think," answered Simpson. "Boardin' and bein' boarded are two very different things; and although them chaps may be ready enough to follow their skipper on to our decks, it'll take a good deal of the fight out of them if they finds that we're beforehand with 'em, and that they've got to defend their own ship instead of attackin' us. I'll go and see everything ready to give 'em a warm reception when they comes alongside." We were not long kept in suspense, for, to do the pirates justice, they came on to the attack with every symptom of perfect fearlessness, and we had only just sufficient time wherein to make our preparations when, taking a broad sheer, the brig rounded-to and shot alongside us. At the moment when she was within about a fathom of us, her bulwarks lined with swarthy, unkempt-looking desperadoes, holding themselves in readiness to fling themselves in upon our decks, I gave the word to fire, and the whole double-shotted broadside--with a charge of canister on top of it, which Simpson had quietly ordered to be rammed home on top of the round shot--went crashing into her, making a very pretty "general average" among her crew, and among her spars and rigging. The crew of boarders seemed to have been swept out of existence, and so severely wounded were her masts that the shock of her collision with the schooner, a moment later, sent both of them over the side, fortunately into the sea instead of across our decks; and there she lay, a sheer hulk, secured to us by the grappling irons which our people had promptly hove, and quite unable to escape. "Hurrah, lads," I shouted, "we have her now; she cannot escape us! Boarders, follow me!" And away we all went, helter-skelter, over our own bulwarks and those of the brig into the thick cloud of smoke that hung over the brig's decks, completely obscuring them and everything upon them. I quite expected to find that our final broadside, in addition to bringing down the brig's masts, had swept her crew practically out of existence. I was therefore most disagreeably surprised to discover that, despite the havoc which we had undoubtedly wrought, and the evidences of which became clearly visible as the breeze swept the smoke away, the pirates still numbered at least two to our one, and were apparently in nowise dismayed at the havoc which that last broadside of ours had wrought; on the contrary, they received us with the utmost intrepidity, and in an instant we of the _Francesca_ found ourselves hemmed in and pressed so vigorously that, instead of sweeping the decks and carrying the brig with a rush, as I had fully expected we should, it was with the utmost difficulty that we were able to hold our ground at all. The pirate captain, easily distinguishable among the rest by his good looks and the smartness of his dress, was here, there, and everywhere apparently at the same moment, urging on and encouraging his men in fluent Spanish, while he defended himself from the simultaneous attack of three of our people with consummate ease. He fought cheerfully, joyously, like a man who enjoys fighting, with a reckless jest on his lips, but with a ferocity that was terrible to behold. Twice I crossed swords with him. On the first occasion I had hardly engaged when I was so severely jostled that I suddenly found myself completely at his mercy, and gave myself up as lost, for his sword was descending straight upon my defenceless head as his eyes glared tiger- like into mine, when, apparently through sheer caprice, he diverted his stroke, and, instead of cleaving me to the chin, as he could easily have done, vigorously attacked the man next to me; while on the second occasion, which occurred a minute or two later, he contented himself with simply parrying my thrust, and then permitted himself to be separated from me by a rush of our men. For ten long minutes the fight raged most furiously on the brig's deck, fortune sometimes favouring us for a moment and then deserting us in favour of the pirates. The battle occasionally resolved itself for a moment into a series of desperate single combats, during which men savagely clutched each other by the throat and stabbed at each other with shortened weapons, and then merged again into a general melee in which each man seemed to strike recklessly at every enemy within reach, regardless of his own safety. And then, while the fight was still in full swing, I suddenly received a terrific blow on the top of my skull and fell senseless upon the deck. My last conscious sensation was that of being trampled remorselessly under foot by a furious rush of men. When at length I recovered my senses I found that I was lying, undressed, in a cot, suffering from a nerve-racking headache of so violent a character that I could scarcely endure to open my eyes to the brilliant sunlight that flooded the cabin of which I was an occupant. For the first minute or two after my recovery my senses were so utterly confused that I found it impossible to recall anything that had happened save that, somehow, I had been struck down in a fight. Gradually, as I lay there wrestling with the state of confusion in which I found myself plunged, my memory returned, and I recollected everything up to the moment when I had been struck down on the deck of the pirate brig. Then I began to look about me, with the view of ascertaining where I was. I found that the exceedingly roomy and comfortable cot in which I was lying was slung from the beams of an equally roomy and luxurious cabin which was furnished with a degree of mingled elegance and comfort that was seldom found afloat in those days, and indeed is very far from being common even now. The whole of the after end of this cabin was occupied by a series of windows of semi-elliptical shape, beyond which the sparkling sea could be seen, and through which a delicious, balmy, refreshing breeze was blowing. A broad locker arrangement, handsomely worked in choice mahogany, stretched right athwart the cabin immediately beneath the stern windows, and upon this stood several beautiful flowering plants in pots of elaborately hammered brass, this locker forming the top of a long sofa, or divan, upholstered in crimson velvet, which also stretched across the full width of the cabin. The interior paintwork of the apartment was a rich, creamy white, imparting a deliciously cool and bright appearance to it. The furniture which it contained, and which consisted of, among other less important matters, a table of elaborately carved mahogany, a large bookcase full of books, many of which were in sumptuous bindings, a rack containing about a dozen charts, four chairs, each one of different pattern from all the others, and a very fine, thick carpet, was all exceptionally good. The only fault that I could find with it was that it lacked uniformity of design, and suggested the idea that it had been acquired in a more or less haphazard way and at different times and places. By the time that I had completed my survey of the cabin in which I lay I had sufficiently regained the control of my senses to realise that I was certainly not aboard the _Francesca_; and, that being the case, where was I? Undoubtedly aboard the pirate brig, on the deck of which I had been struck down senseless. And then arose the question, what had become of the schooner and my shipmates? Had they been captured, sunk, or driven off? That the fight was over, and had probably been over for some time, was evident; for although there was a sound of much movement on the deck overhead, with the jabber of many voices in Spanish, intermingled with frequent calls and commands, the stir and bustle were of that quiet and orderly character which conveyed to my practised ear the suggestion that the people on deck were engaged upon the task of repairing damages. For a moment the idea presented itself to me that we might possibly have proved the victors, and that the brig was in our possession, but it was dispelled the next moment by the reflection that, had such been the case, the speech on deck would have been English, not Spanish, and I should probably not have been left unattended. As my mental balance gradually recovered itself, so did my anxiety touching the fate of the _Francesca_ and my comrades intensify, until at length I felt that I could endure the suspense no longer, but must turn out and investigate for myself. I accordingly made an effort to raise myself in my cot, but instantly sank back with an involuntary groan, for not only did the effort result in an immediate and severe attack of vertigo, but I also became aware of the fact that, in addition to the injury to my head, I had received a very painful hurt in the left breast, close above my heart. To get up and dress, as I had intended, was obviously impossible, and the only thing to be done, therefore, was to remain where I was until somebody should come to me. I lay thus for perhaps a quarter of an hour longer, fretting and fuming at my helplessness, and still more at my ignorance of what had happened to the schooner, when the door of the cabin opened softly, and a rather good-looking young Spaniard approached my cot on tiptoe. Seeing that my eyes were open, and probably detecting a look of rationality in them, he smiled as his fingers closed gently upon my wrist to feel my pulse. "So, senor," he said, "you have recovered your senses at last! There was a moment when I almost began to fear that you would slip through my fingers." "And pray, senor, who may you be, and where am I?" I asked. "To reply to your questions in their regular order, senor," answered the Spaniard, "I am Miguel Fonseca, the surgeon of this brig, the name of which is the _Barracouta_; and you are the prisoner, or the guest, I am not quite sure which, of her commander, Captain Ricardo." "Captain Ricardo!" repeated I. "What is his other name?" "Ah, senor, that I cannot tell you! We know him only as Captain Ricardo," answered my companion. "Thank you very much for your information," said I. "But there are one or two matters of much greater importance to me than your captain's name. Can you tell me, for instance, what has become of my schooner and her crew?" "Assuredly, senor," answered the surgeon. "We beat her off, with great loss, and, taking advantage of the fact that you had dismasted us with that last venomous broadside that you poured into us just as we ran alongside you, your people made good their escape. But I doubt very much whether they will ever reach a port; indeed it is most probable that they have all gone to the bottom by this time, for the schooner was terribly cut up, and appeared to be making a great deal of water when she hauled off and made sail." "They will get in all right, senor," said I. "I have very little fear of that. If they managed to get from under your guns without being sunk, they will somehow contrive to keep the schooner afloat until they reach a port. And now perhaps you can tell me how it is that I happen to be here. Does your captain take care of his wounded prisoners and nurse them back to health, as a rule?" "By no means, senor," answered Fonseca with a grin. "His usual practice, after a fight, is to fling the wounded and dead alike to the sharks, while the unwounded are afforded the option of joining us or-- walking the plank. Why he has made an exception in your case, senor, is more than I can tell; it is a mystery which I will not attempt to fathom. Nor should I care to hazard a guess as to whether his action bodes you good or evil; all I know is that he happened to be standing by when, after the retreat of your schooner, our people were clearing the decks of the dead and wounded, and that when you were about to be thrown overboard he suddenly interposed and ordered you to be taken below and placed in his own cot, my instructions being to attend to your hurts at once, before attending to even the most seriously injured of our own people." "Um! that is rather queer behaviour, isn't it?" I commented. And, as Fonseca nodded, I continued: "And pray, when did this happen?" "About five hours ago, immediately after the fight," was the answer. "I have been attending to our own wounded during the interval, and have only just finished with them. I am afraid I shall lose a good many of them. Your men fought like fiends, and struck some very shrewd blows; indeed there was a moment when I began to think that Captain Ricardo had made a serious mistake in determining to run down and lay you aboard. For a minute or two it looked very much as though our people were about to give way before you, and indeed I believe they would have done so but for the fact that your men grew discouraged and gave way when you fell. But this will not do at all; here am I talking to you when it is of the utmost importance that you should be kept perfectly quiet. Now, not another word, if you please, but allow me to dress your wounds afresh." And so saying he softly opened the cabin door and said something in a low voice to someone who was apparently waiting outside. Then, closing the door again, he returned to the side of my cot and began, with very gentle fingers and a light touch, to remove the bandages that were wrapped about my breast and shoulder. "This," he said, "is your most serious injury--a pike wound; when did you get it?" "I have really not the slightest idea when or how I got it," I answered. Then I stopped suddenly, for, as I spoke, I suddenly remembered that when I sprang aboard the brig, at the head of the boarders, I was conscious for a moment of having received a violent blow on the chest, the memory of which, however, had instantly vanished in the excitement of the fierce struggle that promptly ensued. "Yes," said I, "that must have been it." And I related the occurrence just as it had happened. Just then a low tap came on the cabin door, and in response to Fonseca's bidding a young mulatto lad entered, bearing a large basin of warm water, towels, bandages, lint, and other matters. "Good! Now stand you there, Francois, and hold the basin while I foment the wound," ordered Fonseca, who forthwith proceeded to bathe and patch me up in the most careful and skilful manner. "There!" said he, when he had at length attended to my hurts and made me tolerably comfortable. "I think you will do pretty well now for an hour or two. The wound in your breast looks very much inflamed, but that is only to be expected from the character of the weapon with which it was inflicted. But I have applied a lotion which ought to allay the inflammation somewhat, and I will prepare you a nice, soothing, cooling drink, of which you may take as much as you please; and when you have finished it, Francois, who will remain here to look after you, will bring you a further supply. But what you now need more than anything else is sleep; so, if you should experience the slightest inclination that way, please yield to it without hesitation. And now, senor, I will bid you _adios_ for the present, but will come and have another look at you before dark." And, so saying, he withdrew from the cabin as quietly as he had come. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. RICARDO THE PIRATE. I must have slept for at least three hours, and probably much longer, for when I awoke, with a start, I discovered that night had fallen, the cabin lamps were lighted, and a man whom I at once recognised as the pirate captain was leaning over me and gazing at my face with an intentness that was doubtless the cause of my abrupt awakening. As I opened my eyes he started back as though detected in some act of which he felt ashamed; then, recovering himself, he again bent over me, and, to my astonishment, said, in perfect English: "Well, young gentleman, I hope you are feeling all the better for your long sleep?" "Thanks, yes," I said. "At least the intolerable headache from which I was suffering a few hours ago has almost entirely passed away, but this wound in my breast is still exceedingly painful, more so, I think, than when your surgeon patched me up." "Ah," he said, "I am sorry to hear that! Fonseca must come and look at you again. He told me that it was likely to prove troublesome, but if we can avoid gangrene until the ship gets in, I think we shall pull you through all right." "It is very kind of you to concern yourself as to my welfare, and also somewhat inexplicable that you should do so," said I. "You are the captain of this ship, are you not?" "Yes, for the present," he answered. "For how long I may be permitted to retain that position is quite another affair. I am given to understand that the men are extremely dissatisfied that I should have spared your life--our motto, you must know, is: `Dead men tell no tales', and we have acted in strict accordance with it thus far, which doubtless accounts for the immunity that we have so long enjoyed. Yours is the first life that I have ever spared." "Thank you!" I said. "I suppose I ought to feel very much obliged to you, but somehow I do not. This disaster has absolutely ruined my prospects in the service, so you might just as well have killed me outright. And, by the way, why have you spared me? Your surgeon informed me that you spare only those who join you. I hope you don't anticipate the possibility that I shall join you?" My companion laughed heartily, yet there was a slight ring of bitterness methought in his laugh. "No," he said, "I have not spared you in the hope that you will join us; we have managed thus far to do fairly well without your assistance, and I am sanguine enough to believe that, even should you decline to throw in your lot with us, we shall continue to rub along after a fashion without it. No, that was not my reason for sparing you. By the by, what is your name, if I may presume to ask? It is rather awkward to be entertaining a guest whose name, even, one does not know." "My name," I answered, "is Grenvile--Richard Grenvile, and I am a lieutenant in his Britannic Majesty's navy." "Quite so!" remarked my companion caustically, "I guessed as much from your uniform. You bear a good name, young sir, a very good name. Are you one of the Devon Grenviles?" "Yes," I answered, "I am Devon all through, on both sides. My mother was a Carew, which is another good old Devonshire family." "Ah!" ejaculated Ricardo, as he called himself, with a quick indrawing of his breath, as though what I had said had hurt him, though how it should have done so was quite inexplicable. "I could have sworn it! Lucy Carew! Boy, you are the living image of your mother! I recognised the likeness the moment that we came face to face, when you boarded us; and I have three times spared your life on that account--twice while the fight was in progress, and again when my people would have heaved your still breathing body to the sharks!" "Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "is it possible that you can ever have known my mother?" "Ay," answered Ricardo, "extraordinary as it may appear to you, I once knew your mother well. However," he broke off hurriedly, "this is not the moment in which to become reminiscent; your wound is troubling you, I can see. I will call Fonseca to dress it afresh; meanwhile, be under no apprehension as to your safety. I will protect you with my own life, if necessary, although I do not think it will quite come to that." And, so saying, he left the cabin, to return a few minutes later, accompanied by the surgeon and his assistant, Francois, the mulatto boy. With the utmost care on the part of Fonseca, and to the accompaniment of sundry maledictions in Spanish, muttered under his breath by Ricardo as I involuntarily winced now and then during the process, my wound was laid bare and carefully examined. It was by this time terribly inflamed and horribly painful, and I seemed to gather, from the grave and anxious look on Fonseca's face, that he regarded it as somewhat serious. He said nothing, however, but gave it a very thorough fomentation, dressed it, and carefully bound it up again. This done he administered a sleeping draught, and left me in charge of Francois, to whom he gave certain whispered instructions which I could not catch. When he presently retired, Ricardo followed him out of the cabin, and I saw him no more that night, for the sleeping draught, though somewhat long in operating, had its effect at last, and I sank into a feverish, troubled sleep, in which I was vexed by all sorts of fantastic fancies, in some of which my mother and the man Ricardo seemed to be associated together most incongruously. Then there were moments when I seemed to awake to find Ricardo and Fonseca bending over me anxiously, and others in which I appeared to be sitting up in my cot and talking the veriest nonsense to Francois, who, on such occasions, seemed to be entreating me, with tears in his eyes, to lie down again and remain quiet. Then ensued further phantasmagoria of the most extravagant description, of which I subsequently remembered little or nothing save that I seemed to be consumed with fever, that liquid fire was rushing through my veins instead of blood, and that I was continually tormented by an unquenchable thirst. This state of discomfort endured for ages--apparently; in reality, however, it lasted only a week, at the end of which period I emerged from my delirium to find myself comfortably, nay, luxuriously, disposed upon a large bed in a spacious room overlooking an extensive garden, gorgeous with strange and brilliant-hued flowers and fragrant with their mingled perfumes, which sloped very gently down to a sandy beach, beyond which was visible, through the wide-open casements of the apartment, a wide stretch of landlocked water, in the centre of which floated the hull of a vessel that I had no difficulty in identifying as the _Barracouta_. The room which I occupied was elegantly furnished. Its walls were decorated with several oil paintings that, to my uneducated eye at least, appeared to be exceedingly good, and dotted about the room here and there were little tables upon each of which stood a vase of magnificent flowers. This was the scene upon which my eyes opened as I awoke from the first natural sleep that had visited me since that disastrous day when I had been struck down upon the deck of the pirate brig, and I lay for some minutes motionless, drinking in the beauty and the delight of it all, and revelling lazily in the sensation of relief from pain and fever that I was now enjoying. Then, as I unconsciously sighed with excess of pleasure, I became aware of a slight movement beside the bed, and, glancing round, I perceived a middle-aged negress bending over me and looking anxiously into my eyes. "_Bueno_! The senor is himself again at last!" she exclaimed in accents of great satisfaction as she placed her cool hand upon my brow for a moment, and then proceeded to smooth my rebellious locks with a tenderness that was almost caressing. "Yes," she continued, "the fever has quite gone, and now the senor has nought to do save to get well and strong again as soon as possible." She spoke in Spanish, and her accent and manner were those of one who had been accustomed all her life to associate with cultured people. "Who are you, pray?" I demanded in the same language, "and where am I?" "I am Mammy," she answered, "the old nurse of the senorita, and Senor Ricardo's housekeeper. And you are now in Senor Ricardo's own house-- ay, and in his own room, too! What is the young English senor to Senor Ricardo, I wonder, that he should be cared for thus?" I scarcely knew whether this last remark was in the nature of a soliloquy, or whether I was to take it as a question addressed to me, but I treated it as the latter, and replied: "I really do not know, Mammy, but--stop a moment; let me think--yes--I seem to remember--or did I dream it?--that Captain Ricardo said he-- had--once known my mother! But, no, that cannot be possible, I must have dreamed it--and yet--no--that part of it scarcely seems to be a dream!" "No matter, no matter," answered Mammy musingly; "we shall doubtless know the truth sooner or later. Now, senor, it is past the time when you ought to have taken your medicine, but you were sleeping so peacefully that I could not bring myself to wake you. Take it now; it is a sovereign remedy for all kinds of fever; I never yet knew it to fail; and then, if you are thirsty, you may have just one glass of sangaree!" I took the potion and swallowed it obediently; it had an intensely but not altogether disagreeable bitter taste; and then I quaffed the generous tumbler of sangaree that the old lady handed me. Oh, that sangaree! I had never tasted it before, and though I have often since then drunk the beverage I have never again enjoyed a draught so much as I did that particular one; it was precisely my idea of nectar! "Aha!" quoth the old woman as she watched the keen enjoyment with which I emptied the tumbler, "the senor likes that? Good! he shall have some more a little later. Now I must go and see to the making of some broth for the senor; it is his strength that we must now build up." And, so saying, the old nurse glided softly out of the room, leaving me to enjoy the glorious scene that was framed by the wide-open window at the foot of my bed. I had lain thus for perhaps five minutes when the door of the room again opened, and there entered a young girl of some sixteen years of age-- that was her actual age, I subsequently learned, but she looked quite two years older,--who came to the side of the bed and stood looking down upon me with large, lustrous eyes that beamed with pity and tenderness. Then, as she laid her cool, soft hand very gently upon my forehead, she said, in the softest, sweetest voice to which I have ever listened: "Oh, Senor Grenvile, it is good to see you looking so very much better. You will recover now; but there was a time--ah, how long ago it seems, yet it was but yesterday!--when we all thought that you would never live to see the light of another day. It was Mammy, and her wonderful knowledge of medicine, that saved you. Had not the captain realised your critical state, and driven the men to incredible exertions to get the ship into harbour quickly, you could not have lived!" "Senorita," said I, "how can I sufficiently thank you for the kind interest you exhibit in an unfortunate prisoner--for that, I suppose, is what I am--" "No, senor, oh no; you are quite mistaken!" interjected my companion. "At least," she corrected herself, "you are mistaken in the character of your imprisonment. That you certainly are a prisoner, in a sense, is quite true; but I hope--that is, I--do--not think--you will find your imprisonment very intolerable." "All imprisonment, whatever its character, must be intolerable, it seems to me," I grumbled. Then, checking myself, I exclaimed: "But do not let us talk about myself. Do you mind telling me who you are? Your face seems familiar to me, somehow, yet I am certain that I have never before seen you. Are you, by any chance, Captain Ricardo's daughter?" The girl's face clouded somewhat as she answered: "No; oh no, I am not Captain Ricardo's daughter! I am an orphan; I have never known what it is to have either father or mother, and I am a prisoner--like yourself, yet I do not find my state by any means intolerable. Captain Ricardo has been kindness itself to me, indeed he could not have been more kind to me had I really been his daughter." "Ah," said I, "I am glad to hear it, for your sake! He seems a strange man, a very curious commingling of good and evil traits of character-- kind and gentle to you--and, thus far, to me--yet relentlessly cruel and bloodthirsty in the prosecution of his accursed calling. And your name, senorita, will you not tell me that?" "Oh, yes, certainly! Why should I not?" answered my companion. "I am called Lotta--Carlotta Josefa Candelaria Dolores de Guzman. And your name is Dick, is it not?" "Why, certainly it is!" I exclaimed. "But how in the world did you know that?" "Because," she answered, "when you were brought ashore yesterday, Captain Ricardo sent for me, and said: `This young fellow is Dick Grenvile, the son of a once very dear friend of mine; and I want you, Lotta, and Mammy, to do your utmost to nurse him back to health and strength again.'" "And you and Mammy have been doing so with marvellously satisfactory results," said I. "And that, I suppose, accounts for the fact of your face seeming familiar to me; I probably saw you once or twice during my delirium?" "Yes," she admitted, "you certainly did see me--once or twice." "Well, Lotta--I suppose I may call you Lotta, may I not? Senorita sounds so very formal, does it not?" I suggested. "Oh, yes, certainly!" assented my companion. "And I may call you Dick, may I not? Senor sounds so very formal, does it not?" Her quaint mimicry of my earnestness of manner was irresistibly droll. "Of course you may," I agreed eagerly. "Well, Lotta--now, let me remember--what was it I was about to say? Oh, yes, of course--how came you to be a prisoner in the power of this man Ricardo?" "Very simply, yet in a manner that you would scarcely credit," was the reply. "You must know that my mother died just after I was born, my father when I was just two years old. Up to then Mammy had looked after me, but when my father died his estates were taken in charge by some people whom my father had appointed to look after them--what do you call those people--?" "Trustees, we call them in England," I suggested. "Yes," assented Lotta, "they were my father's trustees, and my guardians, empowered to look after my interests and manage the estates until I should arrive at the age of eighteen. When I was seven years of age the trustees decided to send me over to Old Spain to be educated, and I accordingly went, in charge of the wife of one of them, with Mammy to look after me. I was educated at the convent of Santa Clara, in Seville, where I remained until my fourteenth birthday, when I was taken out of the convent and placed on board a ship bound to Havana, my guardians having decided that I had received as much education as was necessary, and that the time had arrived when I ought to return to Cuba and take my place as mistress of my household and owner of the vast estate of which I was the heiress. Then a terrible misfortune befell us: the ship on board which I was a passenger caught fire, and was utterly destroyed, and everybody was obliged to take refuge in the boats. Then, to add still further to our misery, a gale sprang up, and the boats became separated. We suffered dreadfully during that gale, and were several times in the greatest danger of being drowned. Then, when the gale was over, the sailors in our boat knew not in which direction to steer, and so we went drifting aimlessly hither and thither, not knowing where we were going, but hoping, day after day, that a ship would come in sight and pick us up. And very soon our food and water became exhausted, and our sufferings intensified to such an extent that some of the men went mad and threw themselves into the sea. As for me, I became so weak at last that I lost consciousness, and did not again revive until I found myself on board the _Barracouta_, with Mammy looking after me. We arrived here before I was well enough to walk, and here I have remained ever since, that is to say, nearly two years." "Well," I exclaimed, "that is a most extraordinary story, extraordinary not only from the fact of your having been the heroine of such a terrible adventure, but even more so from the circumstance that you were rescued and have been taken care of ever since by Ricardo. One would have thought that it would have been the most natural thing in the world for him to have callously left you all to perish. How many of your boat's crew were alive when he picked you up?" "Only two sailors, and Mammy, and myself," answered Lotta; "and I afterwards heard that the sailors had joined Ricardo." "And have you never had any desire to escape and seek the protection of your guardians?" demanded I. "Only at very rare intervals, and even then the feeling was not very strong," was the extraordinary answer. "You see," Lotta explained, "I am perfectly happy where I am. This is a most lovely spot in which to live, the most lovely that I have ever seen; and Ricardo is kindness itself to me during the rare periods when he is `at home', as he calls it. I have never expressed a wish that he has not gratified, I have every possible comfort, and, what with my guitar, my garden, my morning and evening swim, and making clothes for myself, I find so much occupation that I do not know what it is to have a wearisome moment. And, now that you have come to be a companion to me, I cannot think of anything else to wish for." The charming _naivete_ of this remark fairly took my breath away; but I was careful that the girl should not be allowed to guess, from my manner, that she had said anything in the least remarkable. Before I could reply, the sound of approaching footsteps became audible, and Lotta remarked: "Now, here comes Fonseca, and I suppose I shall have to go. But I will come back again when he leaves you." As she rose to her feet the door opened, and the Spanish surgeon entered. "Good morning, senorita!" he exclaimed. "How is our patient? Vastly better, Mammy tells me. I see she is busy preparing some broth for Senor Grenvile, but he must not have it until I have thoroughly satisfied myself that it would be good for him. Well, senor," as he seated himself on the side of the bed and laid his fingers upon my pulse, "you are looking rather more like a living being than you were twenty-four hours ago. Mammy's medicines are simply marvellous, I will say that for them, although the old witch will not tell me of what they are composed. Um! yes; eyes bright--almost too bright--pulse strong but decidedly too quick. You have been talking too much. That will not do. The senorita"--she had slipped out of the room by this time--"must either stay away, or not talk to you. Now, let me look at your wound." And he proceeded very carefully to remove the dressings. This, it appeared, was progressing very satisfactorily, so he re-dressed it--my broken pate had healed itself, and needed no further looking after,--administered a sleeping draught, and then retired, after informing me that I could have Mammy's broth later, but that, in the meantime, sleep was of more value and importance to me than food. He had not been gone ten minutes before I was fast asleep. Several days elapsed, and I never saw Ricardo, although I was told by Lotta and Mammy that he had frequently looked in upon me while I slept. Thanks to good nursing, I was making very satisfactory progress, although still far too weak and ill to be able to rise from my bed. Meanwhile I was able to see, by simply looking out of my bedroom window, that the _Barracouta_ was being rapidly refitted--so rapidly, indeed, that I conjectured Ricardo must have made a point of always keeping an entire spare set of masts, spars, rigging, and sails on hand, in readiness for any such emergency as that which had arisen in connection with his fight with the _Francesca_. At length, when I had been ashore nearly a fortnight, I noticed that the brig was once more all ataunto and apparently ready for sea. That same night Ricardo entered my room, and, having made exhaustive enquiries as to the state of my health, took a seat by my bedside, with the air of a man who purposed to indulge in a long chat. "This last fortnight has done wonders for you," he said. "Thanks to the unremitting care of Lotta and Mammy, I think you will now be able to pull round without any further attention from Fonseca. And that reminds me to tell you that we go to sea at dawn to-morrow, and of course Fonseca goes with us. But he assures me that you now need nothing but good nursing and good feeding to restore you completely, and those Lotta and Mammy will be able to give you. You will not mind my leaving you in their charge, I hope?" "Oh, no," I said, "not at all! Indeed, I have to thank you for quite an extraordinary amount of kindness. You could scarcely have done more for me had you been my father." "You think so?" he said. "Good! I am glad to hear you say that, because--ah, well, it is useless to think of that now! By the way, is your mother still living?" "She was when I last heard from home," said I, "and I hope she will live for many long years to come." "I say amen to that," answered this extraordinary man. "When next you see her, say that Dick Courtenay saved your life--for her sweet sake. And tell her also that, despite everything that was said against me, I was innocent. She will understand what I mean and will believe me, perhaps, after all these years. Ah," he continued, springing to his feet and striding up and down the room, "if she had but believed me at the time, I should never have become what I now am! Had she had faith in me, I could have borne everything else--shame, disgrace, dishonour, ruin--I could have borne them all. But when to the loss of those was added the loss of her esteem, her respect, her love, it was too much; I had nothing left to live for--save revenge; and by heaven I have had my fill of that!" "Do you actually mean to say that you were once my mother's lover?" I gasped. "Ay," he answered bitterly, "her accepted lover. And I should have been her husband but for the accursed villainy of one who--but why speak of it? The mischief is done, and is irremediable." "Surely you do not pretend to suggest that my father--?" I ejaculated. "No, certainly not!" he replied quickly. "Do not misunderstand me. It was not your father who was my enemy, oh no! He was my rival for a time, it is true, but he was also my friend, and the very soul of honour. Oh no! the loss of your mother's love was merely one of many results of a piece of as consummate villainy as ever dragged the honour of a British naval officer in the mire. But, pshaw! let us speak of other things. I suppose you have wondered what are my ultimate intentions toward you, have you not? Well, I will tell you. You once reproached me with having ruined your professional career. My dear boy, have no fear of anything of the kind. It was your misfortune, not your fault, that we were too strong for you, and if Sir Timothy Tompion--oh yes," in answer to my look of surprise, "I know Sir Timothy quite well, and he knows me, or thinks he does!--if Sir Timothy had only known that he was sending you out to fight the _Barracouta_, he would have given you, if not a bigger ship, at least twice as heavy an armament, and twice as strong a crew. So, when he comes to hear your story, he will not blame you for failing to take me; have no fear of that. Therefore, because I feel convinced that your ill-success in your fight with me will in nowise prejudice your professional prospects, it is my intention, all being well, to take you to sea with me next trip, and either put you ashore somewhere whence you can easily make your way to Port Royal, or else to put you aboard the first ship bound for Kingston that we may chance to fall in with. "But to provide against any possibility of your fortunes going awry, I have decided to make you my heir; therefore--stop a moment, please; I think I can guess what you would say--that you positively refuse to have anything whatever to do with wealth acquired by robbery and murder. Quite right, my dear boy, it is precisely what I should expect--ay, and wish--you to say. But when I was an Englishman I sometimes used to hear people say that `circumstances alter cases'; and this is one of them. The wealth that I propose to bequeath to you has not been acquired by me through any objectionable practices, it came to me through the merest accident, and nobody is aware of its existence save Lotta and myself. If it is indeed a pirate hoard, as is not at all unlikely, there is nothing to prove that such is the case; nor, assuming for the moment that it is so, is there anything to tell us either the name of the pirate who got it together, or the names of those from whom he took it. And, in any case, if it is the spoils of a pirate gang, they must have operated about a hundred years ago; and since they are now all undoubtedly dead and gone, as also are those from whom it was taken, you have as much right to it as anybody, and may as well have it. Lotta will show you where it lies concealed; and, since I shall never make use of it, you are at liberty to help yourself to the whole of it as soon as you please. "There is one thing more that I wish to say to you. It is about Lotta. By the way, what do you think of Lotta?" he interrupted himself to enquire. "I think she is the sweetest, most charming, and most lovely girl that has ever lived!" I exclaimed enthusiastically, for I had fully availed myself of my opportunities for making her acquaintance, and had fallen over head and ears in love with her, although I have hitherto refrained from saying so, because this is not a love story, but one of adventure. "Ah!" exclaimed Ricardo grimly; "yes, I see the inevitable has happened! Well, well, I have nothing to say against it, nor will your mother, unless she has greatly altered since I knew her. However, to revert to Lotta, I am afraid that, without in the least intending it, I have done that poor girl a very serious wrong. We fell in with the boat in which she, Mammy, and two Spanish sailors were starving, just as a light air of wind had dropped to a dead calm; as a matter of fact we drifted right up alongside the boat, so that it became impossible to avoid taking those who were living out of her. Even pirates have their gentle moments occasionally, and the sight of those four, perishing of hunger and of thirst, in a craft that had literally drifted alongside us, was more than we could endure; therefore we hauled them up out of the boat, brought them round, cared for them--and they have been inmates of my house ever since. Lotta seemed quite content to remain; she never murmured, never expressed the slightest desire for a life different from that which she was living ashore here. And where Lotta was content, Mammy was supremely happy; therefore--well, I got fond of the child, and resolutely refused to allow my thoughts to turn in the direction of sending her away from me. But your coming has altered everything, I can see that. When you go, she will have to go too; she would never be happy here again without you, that is certain. Moreover, my eyes have been opened of late to the great wrong that I have been doing her. She is a rich heiress, and ought now to be in possession of her property. Therefore, when I return--by which time you will doubtless be quite well again--I will give you the charge of Lotta and Mammy, and ask you to see that the former is safely placed in the care of her guardians. While I am away this time I will arrange a plan by which these matters can be brought about, and will explain everything to you upon my return. And now I think I have said everything that I had to say, and will therefore bid you good-night, and good-bye, since we shall sail at daybreak, and all hands, myself included, will sleep aboard to-night. I hope that when I return, which will probably be in about a month from now, I shall find you quite well and strong again." And as Ricardo pronounced the last words he rose, with the evident intention of going. "One moment, please," I said hastily; "pray do not go just yet. You have been doing all the talking thus far, now I wish to say a word or two." "By all means," he answered with a laugh, as he resumed his seat. "Say on. I promise you my very best attention." But, now that it came to the point, I suddenly found myself hesitating; I had spoken upon the spur of the moment, with a very definite purpose in my mind, but quite unexpectedly I found myself entirely at a loss for words. At length, seeing Ricardo's look of surprise at my hesitation, I plunged desperately _in medias res_. "Look here," I stammered, "I--that is to say--oh, hang it, I find it very difficult to know how to begin! I want very particularly to say something to you, and I want to say it, if I can, without hurting your feelings--" Ricardo laughed grimly. "Say on, without fear," he remarked; "don't stop to pick and choose your words. In my time I have been compelled to listen to words that have seared my very soul, words that drove me desperate, and made me what I am. You can scarcely have anything to say that will hurt me more keenly than I have been hurt already; moreover, I have now grown callous, so say on without fear." The intense and concentrated bitterness with which he uttered those last few words gave me courage; moreover, I felt certain that my companion would recognise the kindly feeling which actuated me, so without more ado I proceeded: "What I wish to say is this. You have somehow contrived to convey to my mind the impression that you are a very deeply injured man, that you have been driven to the adoption of your present mode of life by some great and terrible wrong; moreover, you have been kind to Lotta, and especially kind to me; and, lastly, your references to your former friendship with my mother have been such that it has been impossible for me to avoid feeling very deeply interested in you. Now, why should you not abandon your present mode of life? You say that you possess treasure which has come into your possession by perfectly honest means, and to which, to use your own words, you have as much right as anybody. Why not take that treasure then, and go away to some part of the world where you are not known, and there begin life afresh?" "Ah!" said Ricardo, "I have asked myself that question more than once without obtaining a satisfactory answer to it. I should like to do so, were it possible, for I am very heartily sick of the life that I am now leading. There was a time when, soured and embittered by as cruel a wrong as man could inflict upon his fellow man, I believed that I could find consolation, if not actual happiness, in the wreaking of my vengeance upon every Englishman whom I could get into my power, or whose wealth I could take from him by force; but that time has long passed, the revenge which I believed would be so sweet has turned to dust and ashes in my mouth, and now I am so weary of life that the bullet or steel that should rid me of it would be more welcome than any other earthly thing. When it is too late, I have begun to realise the full depth of my villainy, and to see what a contemptibly cowardly creature I have been in permitting myself to seek such an ignoble method of revenge as piracy. But, as I said, it is now too late, yes, too late--" "Surely not," I broke in. "Have you forgotten the homely old adage that `It's never too late to mend'? What you have done can never be undone, it is true, but it can be repented of, and reparation can be made, if not directly to the persons injured, yet by doing good to others where you have the opportunity. Will you not think the matter over again, and this time with the determination to arrive at a right decision?" "I will think it over, certainly," he said. "As to arriving at `a right decision', that is as may be. If I can see my way to such a decision it may be that I shall take it. I will consider the matter while I am at sea, and I promise you that no wrong shall be done during the progress of this cruise if I can possibly help it, and I think I can. For I always make a point of confining the navigation of the ship strictly to myself; nobody aboard ever knows where we are until I choose to tell them, and it will therefore be easy for me to take the brig to some spot where there is little or no chance of our falling in with other craft. Then, perhaps, if we can cruise for a month or six weeks without taking a prize, the men may be content to accept their share of the booty, and disband, especially as I should tell them that they may divide my own share between them. And now, good-bye, with many thanks for your sympathy!" CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. THE TREASURE CAVE. When I awoke, rather late, the next morning, after a somewhat troubled and restless night, traceable, no doubt, to my long conversation with Ricardo, the _Barracouta_ had vanished, and nothing remained to mark her late anchorage save the buoy to which she had been moored. And now ensued a period of almost perfect bliss to me, for I had by this time reached that precise stage of convalescence where all danger is past, yet in which the patient is still so very far from being well that he must be waited upon, hand and foot, and tended with as much solicitude as though he were an utterly helpless babe; and such attention I was afforded in its most perfect and acceptable form by Lotta and Mammy. Small wonder is it, therefore, that my progress toward recovery was rapid, and that in just a month from the day on which the _Barracouta_ sailed I should find myself strong enough to admit of my rising from my bed and donning my clothes for an hour or two. I was now practically myself again, save that I was so weak as to need support whenever I attempted to stand; but, with Lotta on one side, and Mammy on the other, I was soon able, not only to totter from one room to another, but even to get into the garden for a few minutes, and sit there in a comfortable basket chair, drinking in renewed health and strength with every breath of the soft, warm, deliciously perfumed air. We now began to look daily, nay hourly, for the return of the brig, and I ventured to indulge in the hope that, when she came, I should have the satisfaction of learning that my last conversation with Ricardo had borne good fruit, and that he had decided to abandon piracy, and to devote the remainder of his life to doing good, as some sort of atonement for the countless shocking crimes of which he had been guilty. Meanwhile my strength came back to me fast from the moment when I was able to get into the open air, and within another fortnight I was practically my former self again. It is scarcely needful to say that during this long and tedious period of my convalescence I had enjoyed many a long and confidential chat both with Lotta and with Mammy, and sometimes with both together; thus, by the time that even Lotta was fain to pronounce me once more quite well, and in no further need of nursing, we had very few secrets from each other, and I had confided to her all my earnest hopes regarding Ricardo, in which hopes she cordially joined me. I also told her what Ricardo had said as to my becoming his heir, and taking possession of his private hoard of treasure, which naturally led to an arrangement being made for an early visit to its hiding place. This hiding place, it appeared, was situated in a large natural cavern in a secluded spot on the shore of the bay, and was the spot wherein Ricardo had originally found it hidden. To me, this had a sound of very great insecurity; but Lotta informed me that, so far was this from being the case that, well as she knew the locality of the cavern, she was often greatly puzzled to find the entrance. At length, on a certain afternoon we two set off to find this mysterious hiding place and inspect the treasure, which, according to Lotta's description, promised to be of absolutely fabulous value. We passed down through the garden for almost its entire length, then bore away through a side path to the left, in order, as my companion explained, that we might avoid the "shipyard" and, more particularly, the men working therein. Ricardo had most rigorously enjoined Lotta, on several occasions, never to expose herself to the view of these men, or in any wise remind them of her presence in the settlement. But, to speak the truth, I am very strongly inclined to believe that, at all events on this particular occasion, Lotta was very much more anxious for my safety than she was for her own. Be that as it may, we avoided the shipyard by the simple process of passing along the back of it, through Ricardo's private garden; and I am compelled to say that I was astonished beyond measure at the completeness of the establishment, as I then saw it for the first time. It was a perfect dockyard in miniature, with warehouses, capstan-house, mast house, rigging shed, sail loft--in fact every possible requisite for keeping not only one but as many as three or four craft in perfect order. And, from what I saw in passing, I judged that there must be at least fifty men regularly employed about the place! No wonder that the _Barracouta_ was a busy ship, and her depredations of the most extensive character; they would need to be to maintain adequately such an establishment in working order. Upon leaving the precincts of the garden we plunged into a wood that completely veiled our movements from the men working in the yard, and upon emerging from it we found ourselves at the edge of a low cliff, down the face of which a path zigzagged to the beach. The yard now was completely hidden from us--and we from it--by a jutting shoulder of the cliff. Descending to the beach, we found ourselves on a narrow expanse of firm, white sand, the whole of which it was evident was covered at high-water, and which was now so hard that we scarcely left any indication of our footprints upon it. Traversing this for about a quarter of a mile we entered a sort of labyrinth of huge masses of sandstone that had fallen to the beach from time to time, from the steep and now lofty cliff that impended overhead. Here we were most effectually sheltered from prying gaze by the enormous masses of rock between which we wound our devious way for perhaps a hundred yards, until Lotta stopped with the remark: "Now, Dick, we have reached the end of our journey. Look about you and see whether you can find the entrance to the cave which we have come to visit." I looked diligently round me, this way and that, but could see absolutely nothing that in the least degree resembled an opening in the rock, and at length somewhat impatiently said so. "Neither do I," laughed my companion; "I shall have to look for it, as usual. It is somewhere about here," she continued, pointing to a series of horizontal ledges that ran along the face of the cliff just opposite where we stood. Moving forward, I saw Lotta stoop down to examine the ledges; then she moved slowly along the cliff face for a distance of a few yards, when, to my amazement, she suddenly vanished before my very eyes. I sprang forward until I reached the spot at which she had disappeared, but was still unable to see anything of her. "Lotta!" I cried anxiously, "where are you? what on earth has become of you?" "I am here, Dick," answered the girl, her voice seeming to issue from the ground at my feet. Then, for the first time, I noticed that there was what appeared to be a slight dip in the inner edge of the ledge, but which, upon closer inspection, proved to be a fissure, just wide enough for a man to squeeze through, and it was into this fissure that Lotta had dropped. I promptly followed her, and presently, when my eyes had become accustomed to the dim twilight of the place, I found that we were in a small, cave-like hollow of the rocky cliff, measuring about eight feet in each direction, and floored with very fine, dry sand. But of the treasure there was no sign that I could discover, in any direction-- unless it were artfully concealed in one or more of the many small holes or recesses that I saw here and there in the rocky walls. Lotta observed my perplexity and laughed heartily. "Well, Dick, where is the treasure?" she banteringly demanded. "Surely it is not so very difficult to find, now that you have been told of its existence?" "Oh, I'll find it, never fear, young woman!" I answered; "but I confess that it is so ingeniously concealed that I doubt whether anyone ignorant of its existence would find it, except by the most extraordinary accident." And therewith I proceeded to grope and feel about in the various fissures and cavities with which the rocky walls of the small cavern were honeycombed, but without success. At length, to my great chagrin, I was obliged to abandon the search and confess myself beaten. "Yet it is very simple--when you know!" remarked Lotta, in high glee at my discomfiture. "Follow me!" And, dropping upon her hands and knees, she proceeded to crawl into one of the cavities that I had been searching, and which I should have declared was not nearly capacious enough to receive a full-grown man. Nevertheless Lotta completely disappeared within it, and I after her. When I had fairly entered the cavity I found that what had appeared to be its back wall, and which gave it the appearance of being only about two feet in depth, was really one of two side walls, a narrow passage turning sharp off to the right, just wide enough and high enough to travel through comfortably on one's hands and knees. It wound round in what seemed to me to be about a half-circle of about fifty yards in diameter, and its inner end gave access to an enormous cavern, very roughly circular in shape, and about four hundred feet across in either direction. It was a most extraordinary place. One of the peculiarities was that, instead of being pitchy dark, as one would naturally expect it to be in such a place, the whole interior was suffused with a very soft greenish twilight, quite strong enough, when one's eyes became accustomed to it, to permit one to see from one end of the cavern to the other with quite tolerable distinctness. Where the light came from it was impossible to say, for the roof of the cavern appeared to be formed, like the walls, of solid rock; but from the fact that shafts of light were plainly visible overhead, issuing from the walls and roof, I conjectured that the light entered the cavern through rifts in the rock, and that its greenish tinge was imparted to it by the foliage through which it filtered prior to its passage through the rifts. Greater surprise was in store, for presently I discovered that the walls were literally covered with sculptured figures of men and animals, done in high relief, and about life-size. The sculptures appeared to be records of hunting and fighting episodes, and were executed with great vigour and skill. In reply to my astonished enquiries, Lotta informed me that Ricardo attributed this work to the original Caribs, and very probably he was right. The treasure was all neatly arranged in a recess near the narrow passage by which we had entered the cavern, and a pretty careful inspection of it soon convinced me that Ricardo had been only speaking the truth when he assured me that, although it was probably the booty of some dead-and- gone gang of pirates, he had certainly had no hand in its accumulation. For everything bore unmistakable evidence of having lain where it was for a great many years--probably at least a hundred, if one might judge by the dates on a few of the coins which I examined, and which formed part of the treasure. The man who accumulated the store must have been an individual of a very enterprising nature, for there were great piles of strong, solid wooden cases packed to the brim with doubloons and pieces-of-eight; two hundred and eighty-five gold bricks, weighing about forty pounds each, every brick encased in the original raw-hide wrapper in which it was brought down from the mines, now hard and dry and shrivelled; quite a large pile of rough, shapeless ingots of gold and silver, conveying the suggestion that at various times large quantities of gold and silver plate and jewellery had been run through the melting pot; and, finally, a leather bag containing not far short of a peck measure of gems of every conceivable description, all of the stones being cut, and evidently taken from pieces of jewellery of various kinds that had probably been broken up and melted. I had not the most remote idea of the value of the whole, but I was convinced that it must be something fabulous, and I afterwards learned that I was right. We spent nearly two hours in the cave, partly because there was so much of interest there to engage our attention, and partly because of its delightfully cool temperature, which was a positive luxury after the extreme heat of the house, both by day and by night. Before we left the cave to return to the house, Lotta half-jestingly proposed that we should stock the place with provisions, and use it as a place of abode whenever the heat became unduly oppressive. Although the suggestion was made more in jest than in earnest, the idea became so attractive, when we proceeded to discuss it further, that on the following day we actually took steps to carry out the proposal. We spent the best part of the day in stocking the cavern with provisions, rugs, and so on, to such an extent that we could easily have endured a week's siege there, had it been necessary, for a good supply of excellent water had been found percolating through the rock in a small side passage off the main cavern. And thereafter we regularly spent a great part of each day in the cavern, always making it a rule to take with us a little more of everything than we really needed. At length, when a period of two full months had elapsed since the sailing of the _Barracouta_, with no sign of her return, I began to feel somewhat anxious. I was now practically as well in health as I had ever been in my life, and I began to pine for a return to active service. I was also desirous of seeing Lotta safely removed from her present dubious and somewhat dangerous surroundings into that position which was hers by right. To achieve these two results it was necessary that I should get away from where I was, either by the fulfilment of Ricardo's promise to me, or by some other means. To get away from where I was! As that expression occurred to me I suddenly remembered that I had not the faintest idea where I was; and, since Lotta was as ignorant as I was on the subject, I determined to ascertain by some means exactly where this little paradise of a spot was situated. And, as a first step toward this, I ascertained roughly the latitude of the spot, by means of a quadrant that I found in Ricardo's room, as a result of which I discovered that I was undoubtedly somewhere on the island of Cuba. Since there were only two spots on the coast line of the island that could possibly have this precise latitude, I very soon managed, by reference to one of Ricardo's charts, to determine that the rendezvous was on the north side of the island; nay, I was able without difficulty to identify the precise spot on the chart. Another week passed, still with no sign of the return of the _Barracouta_, and my impatience to get back to civilisation and friends grew so acute that I was seriously entertaining the idea of stealing a boat from the dockyard and making my escape in her. The only consideration which caused me to hesitate was, that as I fully intended to take Lotta and Mammy with me, I did not care to expose them to the perils and discomforts of a boat voyage until every other resource had failed. A few more days had passed, when, about two o'clock one morning, I was rudely awakened by some individual who had entered my room and was roughly shaking me by the shoulder. I started up in bed and, quickly gathering my confused wits together, recognised the voice that was addressing me as that of Fonseca, the surgeon of the _Barracouta_! "Hullo, Fonseca," I exclaimed, "where in the name of fortune have you sprung from? Is the _Barracouta_ in?" "Yes, Senor Grenvile," he answered, "we have just arrived. At the peril of my life I took advantage of the bustle and confusion, attendant upon her coming to an anchor, to slip quietly over the side and swim ashore, in order that I may warn you to rise at once and make your escape while you may, taking the senorita and the old woman with you, if you would save their lives, or that which is perhaps even dearer than life to the senorita!" "Why," I ejaculated, as I sprang out of bed and started groping for the materials with which to strike a light, "what has happened, then, that it should be necessary for us to fly for our lives? Ricardo? Is he--?" "Stop!" exclaimed Fonseca, laying his hand upon my arm as I was about to light a candle; "don't do that! You must dress and make your preparations in darkness; for should Dominique see the house lighted, as he could scarcely fail to do, he would leave everything and come ashore at once rather than that you and the senorita should slip through his fingers. Yes, Ricardo is dead. We have sighted nothing in the shape of a sail from the time that we left here; as a result of which the men rapidly grew discontented. Dominique and Juan, who have long been jealous of Ricardo and envious of his power, took advantage of this and incited the crew to mutiny. The precious pair made their way to Ricardo's cabin and murdered him in his sleep; then, when his dead body had been first exhibited to the men and afterwards tossed overboard, Dominique offered himself as captain in place of Ricardo, and, as he happened to be the only reliable navigator among us, he was chosen, with Juan as his lieutenant. That done, it was decided to abandon the cruise forthwith and bear up for the rendezvous, in order to lay in a fresh stock of necessaries before undertaking another cruise. But I soon discovered that, so far as Dominique was concerned, the restocking of the ship was only a pretext to enable him to return here at once for quite another purpose, namely, to put you effectually out of the way by drawing a knife across your throat, and to possess himself of the senorita. Now, Dominique is a villain without a single redeeming trait of character; there is no love lost between him and me; and therefore, since I have taken something of a fancy to you, and have no desire to see Senorita Lotta the victim of such a consummate scoundrel and blackguard as Dominique, I determined to give you a word of warning, if possible; and here I am. Now I don't know where you and the senorita can hide yourselves, but hide you must, and that forthwith, for friend Dominique may turn up at any moment; and if he finds you and the lady here, no earthly power can save you. I think that perhaps if you were to take to the woods for a time, it would be your best plan; and I would help you, so far as lay in my power, by--" "You are a good fellow, Fonseca," interrupted I, grasping his hand, "and I will not forget what you have done to-night. I know of a place where, I think, we can hide safely for a day or two, and I will take the senorita and Mammy there with me. And, look here, why should you not join us? You must surely be quite tired of leading such a life as this, and--" "Tired!" he broke in; "tired is not the word to express my loathing of it! I never liked it; would never have had anything to do with it if I could have helped it, but I was compelled by Ricardo to join, and I have never since had a chance to escape." "Well, you have one now if you care to join us," I said. "While you have been talking my brain has been working, and I have already thought of a scheme for getting away from here. Will you join us?" "Most willingly, senor," answered Fonseca. "I will stand by you through thick and thin; and should you succeed in enabling me to escape, my eternal gratitude will be yours." "Very well then," said I, "that is settled. Now if you have any valuables among your personal belongings in your quarters ashore here, that you particularly wish to take away with you, be off at once and get them, and then rejoin me here. As for me, I must go and call Mammy at once, and direct her to arouse and warn the senorita. Now be off with you, and return as quickly as possible." So saying I hustled him out, and forthwith hastened away to the little room which I knew was occupied by the negress. This I entered without ceremony, and, arousing the old creature, acquainted her as briefly as possible with the situation of affairs, and directed her to arouse Lotta forthwith. Then I returned to the room which I had been occupying--and which was actually Ricardo's own sleeping apartment--and busied myself in collecting together some half a dozen charts which were scattered about the room, and which, I thought, might be useful, as well as Ricardo's quadrant and a copy of the current _Nautical Almanac_. By the time that I had got these and one or two other matters together, Fonseca had returned, and a few minutes later Lotta and Mammy appeared, the latter loaded with a huge bundle of wraps and spare clothing belonging to her beloved mistress. Having enquired whether they were now ready for instant flight, and received a prompt affirmative reply, I gave the word to evacuate the premises, and we forthwith filed out into the garden, shaping a course for the treasure cave, which I had determined should be our place of refuge until we could perfect our plans for effecting an escape. As it happened, we were not a moment too soon, for we had traversed little more than half the length of the garden when the sound of voices in somewhat boisterous conversation not far ahead first brought us to an abrupt halt, and then caused us to retire precipitately from the path to the shelter of some coffee bushes close at hand, behind which we silently crouched until the speakers had passed on up the path. They were Dominique and Juan, both somewhat the worse for drink, and consequently speaking in a considerably louder key than was in the least degree necessary. As they passed us and pursued their way up toward the house it was not at all difficult to divine from their conversation the fate which they had planned for Lotta, as well as for me. The moment that they were far enough beyond us to permit of our doing so with safety, we again emerged upon the path, down which we pursued our way, silent as shadows, arriving, some ten minutes later, at the point where it became necessary for us to turn off through the wood on our way toward the cave. At this point I paused for a moment to look back at the house, and as I did so I noticed a faint light suddenly appear in one of the rooms. Our friends Dominique and Juan had evidently arrived there and were lighting up the place, prior, as they doubtless fondly anticipated, to giving us a pleasant little surprise. As I continued to watch, the light suddenly grew brighter; they had found a lamp and lighted it, and were now in the room which I had been wont to occupy. A minute later the light vanished from that particular room, and almost immediately showed from the window of another, which, from its position, I conjectured must be that which Lotta had occupied. That our flight had by this time been discovered seemed pretty evident, for the house was rapidly lighted up in every room, and it was not difficult to conjecture that the two half-drunken ruffians were prosecuting a heated and vigorous search for the missing ones. And that this was actually the case soon became evident from the fact that the French casement of the room that had been mine suddenly flew open, and a man, whom I presently identified as Juan, came staggering and stumbling down the path at a run, alternately yelling curses at us, the missing ones, and shouting to some person or persons unknown to come up to the house forthwith "as the birds had flown!" Whereupon I swung quickly upon my heel, and, plunging into the wood, hastened after my companions, whom I overtook just as they were about to enter the cave. Arrived at our destination we lighted a candle for a few minutes to enable us to make such hasty preparations as were absolutely necessary, and then, stretching ourselves out upon the soft, sandy floor, composed ourselves to finish the slumbers that had been so rudely interrupted. CHAPTER NINETEEN. AN AUDACIOUS SCHEME. It seemed that I had scarcely closed my eyes ere I was aroused by Mammy, who informed me that it was broad daylight, and that breakfast was quite ready, whereupon, starting to my feet and shaking the fine sand from my clothing, I looked at my watch and was amazed to discover that it was nearly eight o'clock. I accordingly hurried away to the spot at which the spring gushed out of the rock, hastily performed my ablutions, and returned to where the others awaited me before falling-to upon a most appetising meal which Mammy had prepared from the various viands with which we had so luckily stocked the place. Everything was cold, of course, for now that our flight was known it would never have done to risk lighting a fire for the mere pleasure of having hot chocolate for breakfast, lest some errant wreath of smoke should betray the locality of our hiding place, and lead to a search that might possibly result in our capture. But, cold though the meal was, it was none the less welcome; and when we had finished I rose to my feet with the announcement that I intended to go forth upon a reconnoitring expedition. Against this decision Lotta at once protested most vigorously, in which protest she was joined by Fonseca, who very generously offered to go in my stead. He declared that in the untoward event of an unavoidable encounter with any of the men, the consequences to me would certainly be fatal, while for him they would probably amount to nothing worse than a somewhat severe cross-questioning as to how he managed to get ashore without using a boat, and what were his reasons for such extraordinary haste. These questions he believed he could answer satisfactorily without difficulty. But I was anxious to get all my information at first hand, to see everything with my own eyes, in order that I might be able to frame my plans with certainty. I therefore put aside their objections, and, forbidding any of them to leave the cave until my return, sallied forth, observing every possible precaution against being seen or being taken unawares. Upon emerging from the entrance to the cave, after having first taken a most careful look round, I made my way, with much circumspection, to the crown of a high knoll or ness, jutting out a little way into the bay, from which I believed I should be able to get a good view of the "yard", and ascertain, in the first instance, what might be happening in that direction. The crest of this knoll was crowned with a thick and tolerably extensive clump of bushes, screened by which I hoped to be able both to see and hear anything that might happen to be transpiring among the various sheds, and at the same time to keep an eye upon the brig where she lay at her buoy, about half a mile from the shore. When, however, I reached my hiding place I was disappointed to find that I was considerably farther away from the wharf and the buildings than I had expected; and that while I could see pretty well what was happening down there, as well as command an excellent view of the brig, I could hear nothing save an occasional shout; and it was even more upon what I should hear than upon what I should see that I depended for the necessary information upon which to base my plans. But there was a spot at some distance down the front of the slope which I thought would suit my purpose admirably if I could only reach it without being seen, and I at once determined to make the attempt. It was a somewhat peculiarly shaped outcrop of rock with a hollow in the middle of it, and I believed that if I could but gain its shelter without discovery I should be able to see from it nearly as well as from where I was, while I should certainly be able to hear very much better. The only question was how to get there. And after very carefully examining my surroundings from the shelter of my screen of bushes I came to the conclusion that my only plan would be to descend to the beach again by the way that I had come, enter the wood as though I intended to return to the house, and skirt it until I came very nearly to its far end, when, by concealing myself in a thick and extensive bed of ferns, I might reasonably hope to gain the desired spot without any very great difficulty or danger. Accordingly, having first carefully looked about me to assure myself that I need not fear being seen, I cautiously emerged from my hiding place, and as cautiously made my way down to the beach again, from which it was easy to gain the shelter and concealment of the wood. Another ten minutes found me, heedless of the danger of snake bites, painfully wriggling my way through the bed of ferns, lifting my head above the fronds occasionally to make sure that I was steering a straight course; and twenty minutes later saw me safely ensconced in my hiding place, from which I could both see and hear distinctly without being seen. For nearly an hour it appeared as though I had had all my trouble for nothing, for the people on the wharf and in the sheds seemed to be going about their regular daily business with that perfect deliberation and entire absence of hurry which is so characteristic of the Spanish seamen. I was beginning to consider seriously the question whether, after all, it might not be advisable for me to endeavour to approach the house, and even perhaps enter it, in my quest for information, when I saw Dominique and Juan suddenly appear upon the wharf and enter a small dinghy, in which they pulled off to the brig. Then, as the tiny craft approached the _Barracouta_ a few figures appeared on deck, and by the time that the dinghy reached the brig's side all hands seemed to have mustered on deck. Evidently they had been taking matters easy aboard her to celebrate their return to harbour. Almost immediately after the arrival of the new captain and his lieutenant on board, the boatswain's whistle sounded, and a minute later both gigs and the cutter were lowered, and all hands apparently got into them and gave way for the shore. Ten minutes later they landed on the wharf and drew themselves up into some semblance of rank and file. I noticed that every man carried a brace of pistols, as well as the usual long, murderous-looking knife, in his belt. Then Juan stepped forward and started to ring a large bell that was suspended from a gallows-like arrangement, and immediately a number of men came swarming out from the various sheds and formed up facing their comrades, who had just come ashore from the brig. I carefully counted these last, and found that, including Dominique and Juan, they mustered forty-two. The others totalled up to fifty-six. When the last man appeared to have presented himself, Dominique gave the order: "Call over the roll, if you please, Senor Juan." And therewith Juan, drawing the roll from his pocket, proceeded to call each man by name. Each briefly responded by declaring himself to be "Present!" Then, every man apparently having been accounted for, Dominique stepped forward and said: "My lads, I have called you off from your regular work this morning to engage in a man hunt, or rather a hunt for two women and two men. You will not need to be reminded by me that one of our chief and most recent causes of dissatisfaction with Ricardo was his extraordinary behaviour in connection with that young sprig of a naval officer whom we captured when we engaged the British war schooner _Francesca_. Instead of heaving the young cub overboard to the sharks, as he ought to have done, our late chief, for some extraordinary reason which he never condescended to explain to us, chose to keep the young fellow alive, and not only so, but also to give the surgeon the strictest injunctions to nurse him back to health. This was so totally at variance with his usual practice that, as I have already explained to some of you, there could only be one reason for it, and that reason, I have never had the slightest doubt, was that he had formed a plan to betray us all into the hands of the British. By saving the young officer's life he hoped not only to use him as a channel of negotiation with the British authorities, but also to purchase immunity from punishment for himself. And having secured this, he would seize the earliest opportunity after our execution to return here and quietly possess himself of the immense hoard of treasure that we have accumulated by years of toil and peril. It was because I was thoroughly convinced of this that I did away with Ricardo; for it was his life or ours that hung in the balance. But it was not sufficient to put Ricardo out of the way of doing us a mischief; the young English officer remained, and still remains, and until he also is removed there can be no safety for any one of us; and it was this knowledge that caused me to abandon our cruise and return here. "And now, what do I find? Why, that he, the Senorita Lotta, and the old nurse have disappeared! Now, I want you to note particularly the significance of this last fact, that not only have those three disappeared, but so has Fonseca! What does this mean? Why, without doubt it means that the surgeon also was in the plot with Ricardo against us, and that we have him also to reckon with. How or when he disappeared I cannot tell you, but we know that he was with us in the brig when we executed Ricardo. He must therefore have slipped ashore in some mysterious manner immediately upon our arrival, and have warned the Englishman, who thereupon must have taken to flight, carrying off the girl, her nurse, and Fonseca with him. "It is these four persons that I want you to hunt down and bring back to the rendezvous. They cannot have gone very far, and they cannot get away, for, as some of you are aware, it is impossible to make one's way very far inland from here; we are completely shut in on the landward side by inaccessible cliffs. But the Englishman does not know this, and I am by no means certain that either the girl or the surgeon knows it. I am therefore of opinion that they will all be found endeavouring to make their way into the back country by way of False Gap. I want you all, therefore, to spread yourselves in such a way that some one or another of you must inevitably find them, either by overtaking them, or by intercepting them on their return when they find it impossible to escape landward. I will go with you, but as a measure of precaution, Juan, with half a dozen men, will secrete themselves in the house yonder, in order that, should we by any strange chance miss the fugitives, they may be taken when they return to the house, as they must, sooner or later, in search of food. And one man will remain here on the wharf, as a watchman and look-out; not that I think there is the slightest likelihood of the fugitives coming this way, but it is good generalship to take every possible precaution. And if you, Jose, who are to remain here, should chance to sight any of the runaways, just ring the yard bell, and wait for those in the house to join you. "Now, men, I hope you understand me; those four persons must be found and brought back to me; the Englishman, alive or dead. The other three must be brought back to me alive, and, the girl at least, absolutely uninjured; and remember that in the case of Fonseca, the less he is injured the more acutely will he suffer from the punishment that I intend to inflict upon him for his treachery! Now, forward all; to the house first, and from there spread yourselves over the country in the direction of False Gap. March!" Thereupon the whole party, with the exception of one solitary individual, whom I took to be Jose, who was told off to keep watch and ward upon the wharf, filed off along the wharf and up the pathway that led to the house from which we had fled but a few hours before. It took them some twenty minutes to reach the bungalow, and ten minutes later I saw a mob of men issue from it and disappear inland. For a few minutes their shouts could be heard as they called to each other, and then a dead silence fell upon the scene, broken only by the chirping and "chirring" of the myriads of insects that haunted the bushy growth with which the whole face of the country was covered, and the occasional call of a bird. As for Jose, his first act, upon being left to himself, was to scrutinise carefully the whole face of the visible country, under the sharp of his hand, and then seat himself in the shadow of the capstan- house, light his pipe, and abandon himself to the soothing influence of the "weed." Now the happenings of the last hour had set me thinking hard. First of all, there was Dominique's remark about the impossibility of anyone escaping inland. During the period of my convalescence I had seen enough of the country, while wandering about in Lotta's company, to convince me that this statement might be quite true, although Lotta had never said a word to lead me to believe that she was aware that it was so. And if there was no possibility of escaping landward, the only alternative was to escape by going out to sea. But a boat voyage was an undertaking not to be rashly entered upon, especially where a woman was in the case; the inconvenience and discomfort, to say nothing of the danger, of such an attempt were such as to make me pause long and consider the matter very seriously in all its bearings before determining to engage in such a venture. Yet something must be done; we could not continue to inhabit the cavern indefinitely; a way of escape must be found; for after what had fallen from Dominique's lips while addressing his men, I felt that there was no such thing as safety for any of us while we remained within arm's reach of that miscreant. The most serious feature of the case, so far as a boat voyage was concerned, was that even the biggest of the available boats, which was one of the _Barracouta's_ gigs, was much too small to justify me in the attempt to make the passage to Jamaica in her; for should the breeze happen to pipe strong, the boat could not possibly live in the boisterous sea that would at once be knocked up. If, on the other hand, the brig's longboat had happened to be in the water, or some other craft big enough to accomplish the voyage in safety--I pulled myself up suddenly, for a distinctly audacious idea had at that moment occurred to me as well worthy of consideration. Why not take the brig herself? True, she was a big craft for two men to handle, but if she could but be got safely out to sea, and beyond the reach of pursuit by boats, she could be sailed under such short canvas that one man could take care of her for a whole watch without very much difficulty. The trouble would be to get aboard her, get her under way, and take her out to sea without being detected and pursued, unless--and here I pulled myself up again, for another audacious idea had occurred to me. I looked at Jose--he appeared to be in a distinctly drowsy condition, if indeed not already asleep, overpowered by the heat, and lulled to slumber by the unwonted quiet of his surroundings. Then I looked carefully around me to see whether I could detect any traces of the man- hunters, but saw none; they were all undoubtedly well out of the way by this time. I pulled myself together and braced myself up for immediate action, for it suddenly dawned upon me that I was never likely to have a more favourable opportunity to carry my bold scheme into effect than that which at that moment presented itself to me. I quietly emerged from my place of concealment and, once more crouching low among the ferns, crept slowly and with infinite caution toward the somnolent Jose, gradually working my way round until I could just see him clear of the corner of the capstan-house. Some twenty minutes of this work brought me right up to the gable end of the building, from which position I again reconnoitred Jose. He was unmistakably fast asleep, and therefore practically at my mercy. But as I had no intention of killing the man, if I could possibly avoid so extreme a measure, I must have the wherewithal to bind him securely, and that could undoubtedly be obtained in the capstan-house. I therefore removed my shoes and, carrying them in my hand, stole on tiptoe round the corner of the building, keeping a wary eye on the sleeper as I did so. Presently I slipped noiselessly in through the open door, and found myself in a long, spacious apartment abundantly stored with ponderous hempen cables and hawsers, anchors of various sizes, piles of sails neatly stopped up, quantities of chain of various kinds, coils of rope, sufficient, it appeared to me, to fit a new gang of running rigging to a dozen ships like the _Barracouta_, bundles of blocks, single, double, threefold, and sister, dangling from the beams--in fact almost every conceivable article that could possibly be needed in the fitting out of a ship. There was part of a coil of brand-new ratline close to my hand, which would serve my purpose admirably, I therefore whipped out my knife and cut off as much as I required, seized a double handful of oakum and a belaying-pin with which to form a gag, cut off a length of marline with which to secure the gag in place, and then, having made a running bowline in the end of my length of ratline, I stole, still in my stocking feet, to the door, and very cautiously peered out at Jose. The man was sound asleep, seated on the ground with his back propped against the wall of the capstan-house, his legs stretched out straight in front of him, his arms hanging limply at his sides with the backs of his hands resting on the ground and turned palm upward, his head sunk on his breast, and his pipe, fallen from his mouth, lying in his lap. Silently and stealthily I crept toward him until I stood by his side; then, without pausing a moment, I dropped the noosed ratline over his shoulders, at the same moment grabbing him by the collar and dragging him forward to allow the noose to drop to his middle, hauling it taut as it did so, and thus confining his arms to his sides. Then, as he opened his mouth with the evident intention of letting out a yell, I popped the belaying-pin wrapped in oakum into his mouth, at the same time hissing into his ear: "Be silent as you value your life!" Then, turning him over on his face, I rapidly trussed him up in such a fashion that I felt confident he would never get free again, unaided; and finally I dragged him inside the capstan-house, adjusting the gag in such a manner that, while not interfering unduly with his comfort, it would effectually prevent him from raising an alarm. And then, having assured myself that I had nothing to fear from him, I hurried off and made the best of my way to the cave, where I found its occupants suffering the greatest uneasiness in consequence of my prolonged absence. A few hasty words from me sufficed to put them in possession of my plans, and then, gathering up such few personal belongings as we had brought with us, we left the cavern and hurried away to the wharf, which we managed to reach unobserved, and temporarily concealed ourselves in the capstan-house, where Jose was found still safely trussed up. Then, leaving Lotta, Fonseca, and Mammy in the building, I sallied out to make my final arrangements, which I hoped to do without interference, since that part of the wharf where I was operating was not visible from the house. But there was, of course, the risk that those in the house might at any moment take it into their heads to come down to the wharf to see how Jose was faring, and it was therefore of the utmost importance that what I had to do should be done quickly. I walked to the edge of the wharf and looked over. The two gigs and the cutter of the _Barracouta_ were lying alongside each other at a flight of steps about half a dozen fathoms away, the only other boat which I could see afloat lying just astern of them. But there were several boats hauled-up high and dry on the wharf, and these would need thinking about with reference to the scheme that I had in my mind. Slipping down the landing steps, I cast adrift three out of the four boats, and re- moored them in a string, one to the stern of another, so that by manning the leading boat, we could tow the others after us. Then I returned to the capstan-house and proceeded to look for a carpenter's maul, which I quickly found. I was now ready for what I fondly hoped would prove to be the last act in our little drama, and was about to give the word to march, when Fonseca, who appeared to have been speaking to Jose, stayed me. "Senor Grenvile," he said, "I have just been exchanging a few remarks with our friend Jose here, who has made certain representations to me that I think demand your consideration. He quite understands, of course, that we are about to attempt to escape, and he fully recognises that he has no power to prevent us. But he contends that if we go off and leave him here, Dominique will certainly torture him to death as a punishment for permitting himself to be taken by surprise; and from what I know of Dominique, I am afraid poor Jose has only too good reason for his apprehension. That being the case, he implores us to take him with us, even if we afterward deliver him up to the authorities, since he would infinitely rather be hanged than remain here at the mercy of Dominique. What say you, senor; do you feel inclined to accede to his request?" I looked at Jose. The poor wretch was evidently in a paroxysm of terror, and was muttering eagerly behind his gag, while he gazed up at me with eyes that were eloquent with pleading. "Take the gag out of his mouth," said I, "and let me hear what he has to say. But upon the first attempt to raise his voice, brain him with the belaying-pin. We must have no trifling now." Fonseca at once removed the gag, and Jose instantly burst forth with a perfect torrent of prayers for mercy, intermingled with the most earnest and graphic representations of what would happen to him if left behind. "I would take you with us willingly, Jose," I said, "if I could be assured that you would be faithful to us; but--" "Oh, senor, do not doubt me, I implore you! Take me with you, senor; and if you feel that you cannot trust me, put me in irons when we get on board. But I swear to you, senor, that I will indeed be faithful to you. Take me, senor, and try me!" "Very well," I said, "I will. But you must not expect me to trust you too much at first. Therefore, Fonseca, put the gag back into his mouth, for the moment, and then cast his feet adrift, so that he can walk down to the boats instead of being carried. And while you are doing that, I will take a final look outside, and attend to a certain little matter before we leave." And, so saying, I picked up the maul and walked out of the building. A careful look all round satisfied me that there was nobody in sight; and as for the party up at the house, it was about time for their midday meal, and they were probably getting it. I therefore made my way to the spot where the hauled-up boats were lying, and deliberately smashed in two or three of the bottom planks of each, thus rendering them quite unserviceable for the moment. Then, returning to the capstan-house, I gave the word to march, and the whole party, now five in number, including Jose, filed across the wharf and down the steps into the leading gig; the painter was cast off, and Fonseca and I taking an oar apiece, we pushed off and, with the other three boats in tow, made our way slowly toward the brig. And then, suddenly, a dreadful apprehension seized me. "By Jove, Fonseca," I exclaimed, "I have never thought of it until this moment, but what is going to happen if there are any people left aboard the brig? I have been quite taking it for granted that all hands came ashore this morning, but of course I cannot be at all sure that they did." "I presume you did not by any chance notice, senor, precisely how many men landed, did you?" demanded Fonseca. "Yes," said I, "I did. And, including Dominique and Juan, they numbered forty-two." "Forty-two!" repeated Fonseca. "Now, just let me think." He considered for about a minute, and then said: "So far as I can remember, senor, forty-two should include all hands. But, all the same, it will not be amiss to approach the ship warily, and get aboard, if possible, noiselessly. Then, once aboard, we can soon ascertain whether anyone is there. And if perchance there should be, it cannot be more than one or two at most, whom we can probably overpower if we once get a footing on deck." A few minutes later we opened out the house clear of the wood, and I kept my eye on it, wondering how long it would be ere we should attract the attention of Juan and those with him. They must have seen us almost immediately, for in less than a minute we saw half a dozen men rush out on to the gallery that ran all round the building, and stand staring straight at us, evidently talking excitedly together the while; then, as with one accord, they set off racing down the path at breakneck speed toward the wharf, shouting to us and gesticulating wildly as they ran. But we took matters very quietly, knowing that there was not a boat left that would swim, or, as we believed, that could be made to swim without a couple of hours' work being done upon her. Then I turned my gaze toward the brig; for I argued that since their cries reached us quite distinctly, they must also reach the brig, and if anyone had been left aboard her those cries would soon create an alarm, and we might expect to see some movement on board her. But we saw nothing, the craft maintained the appearance of being absolutely deserted, and five minutes later we stole up alongside and quietly scrambled aboard her by way of the main chains. CHAPTER TWENTY. HOW THE ADVENTURE ENDED. As I dropped in over the rail and alighted upon the deck, I flung a quick glance along it, fore and aft, in search of some trace of occupation, but there was nothing to indicate that anyone had been left on board. I stole forward and listened intently at the fore scuttle, but there was no sound of movement down in the forecastle, nor could I catch any suggestion of deep breathing or snoring, as would probably have been the case had an anchor-watch been left on board, and, ignoring its responsibilities, gone below and turned in. But, determined to make quite sure, I swung my legs over the coaming and quietly dropped down into the close, pungent-smelling place. For a moment I could see nothing, for the only light entering the forecastle came down through the hatch, and my eyes were dazzled with the brilliant light of the outer world; but presently my sight came to me and I saw that all the bunks and hammocks were empty, and that the apartment contained nothing more dangerous than a heterogeneous assortment of clothes, boots, oilskins, and other articles common to seamen. I therefore made my way on deck again and ran aft, where I encountered Fonseca just emerging from the cabin, where he, like myself, had been on an exploring expedition, which, like mine, had proved fruitless. As we met and exchanged news my eyes wandered away shoreward, and I noticed that Juan and his companions had reached the wharf, and seemed to be busying themselves about one of the upturned boats which I had taken the precaution to stave. Upon getting the ship's glass I had no difficulty in discovering that they were busily engaged in an attempt to patch up and make her serviceable, with the evident intention of coming in pursuit of us. "By Jove, Fonseca," I exclaimed, "we must bestir ourselves or those fellows may nab us after all. Jump down into the gig, cast Jose adrift, and bid him come aboard instantly; we have not a moment to lose." And as I spoke I made a dash at the trysail brails, cast them off, and proceeded to drag upon the fall of the outhaul tackle. Presently Fonseca returned with Jose, and both lent a hand with a will, the latter seeming to be quite as anxious as any of us to avoid being taken by his former companions. Then, rushing forward, I laid out on the jib-boom and cast loose the inner jib, which Fonseca and Jose at once proceeded to hoist. Then, hauling the jib-sheet over to windward, we cast off the slip by which the brig was, as usual, secured to her buoy, and I then ran aft and put the helm hard down. The brig was now adrift, and with stern way on her; but with the helm hard down she soon paid off, when we hauled aft the lee jib-sheet, and she at once began to forge ahead. But, unfortunately for us, it was almost a dead beat of nearly two miles out to sea, with not very much room to manoeuvre in. If, therefore, the people ashore happened to be specially handy with their tools they might yet get their boat repaired in time to give us trouble; for, smart ship as the _Barracouta_ undoubtedly was, the small amount of sail which we now had set was only sufficient to put her along at about two knots in the hour, or barely to give her steerage way. But she carried a main- topmast staysail which was a fine big sail, the stay reaching from the main-topmast cross-trees down to the foremast within about ten feet of the deck, and this sail we now got on her, with great advantage, her speed at once increasing to nearly four knots. But under this canvas I soon found that she griped rather badly; that is to say, she required an undue amount of weather helm to hold her straight to her course. We therefore loosed and set the fore-topmast staysail, after which she not only practically steered herself, but further increased her speed to not far short of five knots. We had now as much canvas set as we three men could very well manage, and quite enough to keep us going so soon as we should get outside. My only anxiety was lest we should have trouble with the people before we could pass out clear of the heads into the open ocean. Once there I knew that we could easily run away from any rowboat that they could launch. And that reminded me that we had no less than four boats towing behind us, and that they retarded our speed to a quite perceptible extent. Summoning Fonseca and Jose to my assistance, therefore, and showing Lotta how to manipulate the helm in such a manner as to keep the brig going through the water, we hauled-up first one gig and then the other, and succeeded in hoisting them to the davits. The other two we also hauled alongside, and, dropping a couple of cold shot through their bottoms cast them adrift. By the time that all this was done we had drawn well over toward the southern shore of the bay, and the moment had arrived for us to heave in stays. I was just a little anxious as to this manoeuvre, having my doubts as to whether the brig would stay under such short canvas as that which she now had set; but upon putting the helm down all my apprehensions were at once set at rest, for she came round like a top. But I was fully confirmed in my conviction that it would be unwise to attempt to get any more canvas on the vessel, for although the trysail worked itself the two stay-sails and the jib proved to be quite as much as we three men could well manage. Having made a long "leg" across the bay, we now had to make a short one; and no sooner were we round than I took another look at Juan and his party through the telescope, just to see how they were getting on. To my amazement they appeared to have already executed some sort of repair of the boat that they had been working upon, for as I brought the glass to bear upon them I saw that they had turned her over and were carrying her down to the water's edge, with the evident intention of launching her; and while I stood watching they actually got her afloat. Then, while one man got into her and immediately started baling, the remaining five hurried off to the wharf, and, disappearing into one of the sheds, presently reappeared, carrying oars, boat-hook, rudder, bottom boards, stretchers, and other matters of boats' furniture. These they carried down to where the boat was lying, and having placed them in position, jumped in and pushed off. "By Jove, Fonseca, they are after us already!" I exclaimed. "Now if they have managed to make a good repair of that boat they will overhaul us before we can get clear of the bay. And that will mean a fight, for I certainly do not mean to give in if I can help it; and if we can muster half a dozen muskets and a few rounds of ammunition we ought to be able to keep those fellows from coming alongside, we having the advantage of the deck to fight from. See, they know well what they are about; they are not attempting to follow us, but are pulling straight for the entrance, keeping close under the lee of the land." "Yes, I see," answered Fonseca as he took the telescope from me and applied it to his eye. "But I see also, senor, that one man is kept busy baling with a bucket, so it is evident that the boat leaks badly; and it may be that before they can overtake us they will be obliged to give up and go back to save the boat from swamping under them." "Possibly," I agreed. "Nevertheless I think it would be only wise of us to take every reasonable precaution. Therefore I shall feel obliged if you will be good enough to go below and look out a dozen muskets--you will doubtless know where to find them--and, having found them, load them with ball and bring them up on deck to me." "Certainly, senor; there will be no difficulty about that," assented Fonseca. "I will go at once." And he forthwith vanished down the companion way. A quarter of an hour later he returned with six loaded muskets in his arms, which he deposited upon the stern-grating, and then went below for the remaining half-dozen. Meanwhile we had been slipping quite nimbly across the bay, and by the time that Fonseca had returned with the second lot of muskets we had neared the land sufficiently to render it necessary for us to heave about again. By the time that we had tacked and were full again the boat had neared us to within about a mile, and it became a practical certainty that, unless something quite unforeseen occurred, we should be obliged to fight our passage out to sea. But we were now making a "long leg" again, leaving the boat almost astern of us, and going at least as fast through the water as she was, if not somewhat faster. Then, as I stood at the wheel steering, with my thoughts wandering away into the past, an idea suddenly entered my head, and I said to Fonseca: "By the way, Fonseca, can you tell me whether this is the brig that, some six months ago, attacked a little schooner called the _Dolores_ over on the Guinea coast, and, after taking a cargo of slaves out of her, scuttled her in cold blood, leaving the survivors of her crew to go down with her?" The man looked at me in consternation. "Why, how on earth did you come to know of that rascally transaction, senor?" he demanded. "Because," said I, "I happened to be in command of the _Dolores_ at the time, and was one of those who were left to perish in her. She was a prize, and I had been given charge of her, with orders to take her to Sierra Leone." "How extraordinary!" he exclaimed. "And, pray, how did you manage to escape, senor?" I told him the whole story, concluding by saying: "I have had a rod in pickle for this brig ever since. I vowed then that I would find and take her; and, having succeeded thus far, I am not going to allow myself to be baffled by half a dozen men in an open boat." When we next went about I saw that we were heading well up for the narrow passage which formed the entrance of the bay; but the boat had made such good progress that it was quite an open question whether she or the brig would first reach it. I believed that if we could reach it with a lead of even so little as a quarter of a mile we could get out without coming to blows; but should the boat succeed in approaching us any closer than that, I foresaw that she must inevitably overtake us in "the narrows", which would be the very worst place possible for us, since we were beating out against the trade wind, and the spot that we were now approaching was so exceedingly narrow that there was scarcely width enough for even so smart a vessel as the _Barracouta_ to work in it. We should no sooner be about and nicely gathering steerage way than down the helm would have to go again, and we should have our hands quite sufficiently full in looking after the ship just there without the additional worry of being obliged to drive off a boat. I therefore determined that should there presently prove to be any doubt about the matter I would edge away down upon the boat and have it out with her while we still had room in which to manoeuvre the ship. The brig and the boat were now approaching each other on courses that converged at about right angles, the boat being on our lee bow, but drawing ahead at a pace which threatened to bring her unpleasantly near us if it did not actually carry her across our forefoot. But as we drew nearer I noticed that, despite the continuous baling that was going on aboard the boat, she had settled so deeply in the water that she could scarcely hope to keep afloat another half-hour, and the idea came to me that if I could avoid her for that length of time I need fear no further trouble from her, for she would simply swamp with her crew and leave them to swim for their lives. I carefully examined the shore through the telescope to see whether there was a spot on which our pursuers could beach their boat and get rid of the water by the simple process of turning her over and pouring the water out of her, but I could see no such spot; the whole shore, right out to the narrows, was steep-to, with a confused fringe of great masses of rock upon which it would be quite impossible to haul up a boat. As the two craft drew close together it became increasingly doubtful whether we should be able to avoid the boat unless by the adoption of some especial measures, and at length I saw that when the time should arrive for us to heave in stays our pursuers would have actually cut us off. I therefore stood on until we had arrived within about a hundred yards of them, by which time they were dead ahead of us, and lying upon their oars, waiting for us to endeavour to pass them, when I calmly put the brig's helm hard up, instead of down, and we wore round on the other tack, going back over pretty nearly the same ground that we had traversed a few minutes before, to the intense disgust and disappointment of Juan and his companions, who had evidently quite made up their minds that they had us fairly caught. The moment that our manoeuvre had so far developed as to be understood, the occupants of the boat sent up a yell of execration, and began to shout all manner of dreadful threats at us, while they frantically strove to get their crazy boat round in order to come after us in chase. But it soon became apparent that, the boat being in a waterlogged condition, and the oarsmen almost worn out with fatigue, our pursuers had not a ghost of a chance of overtaking us. They, as well as we, recognised this when it was all but too late. Then it dawned upon them that we might evade them with the utmost ease, for practically as long as we chose, by simply repeating our last manoeuvre until their boat should sink under them--an event, by the way, which they could not much longer defer. After pursuing us, therefore, for nearly a mile, they suddenly abandoned the chase, and, turning the boat's head in the direction of the wharf, devoted their efforts to the successful accomplishment of their return. We did not wait to see how they fared, but, as soon as they were fairly out of our way, tacked again, and half an hour later found ourselves fully employed in negotiating the exceedingly difficult navigation of the narrows, which we successfully accomplished after several exceedingly close shaves of the rocks that border the passage on either hand. Half an hour of this work sufficed to take us clear, when we emerged into another funnel-shaped channel leading into the open water of the Bahama Channel. It was close upon eight bells of the afternoon watch when we finally went out clear of everything, by which time we were all quite ready for the appetising meal that Mammy, arrogating to herself the duties of cook, had prepared for us in the ship's galley. Under our short canvas it took us the best part of three days to beat up to Cape Maysi, the easternmost extremity of Cuba, which we safely weathered about four bells in the forenoon watch on the third morning after our escape. Then, the weather being fine, with the wind well over our port quarter for the run through the Windward Channel across to Morant Point, we ventured to get a little more canvas on the craft, setting both topsails, which quickened up our speed to close on seven knots. The weather continuing fine all through that day and the succeeding night, we sighted the broken water on the Formigas Bank the next morning at breakfast-time, and passed it a quarter of an hour later. At noon of that same day we sighted Morant Point, the easternmost extremity of the island of Jamaica, and rounded it two hours later. A pilot boarded us about six bells, off Yallahs Point, and finally we entered Port Royal harbour, and let go our anchor, on the very last of the sea breeze, just as the bell of the flagship was striking four in the first dog watch. Now that we had actually arrived I could see that Fonseca and, still more, Jose felt a considerable amount of anxiety as to what was likely to befall them in consequence of their connection with so notorious and formidable a pirate as Ricardo, but I was able pretty well to reassure the surgeon, at least, for he had told me his story, and I believed it would not be very difficult for him to satisfy the authorities that he had been compelled to join the pirates, and had never been permitted the least chance to effect his escape on those rare occasions when the _Barracouta_ had been obliged to call at an ordinary port. Further, there was the fact, to which of course I could bear personal testimony, that he had warned Lotta and myself of the fate designed for us by Dominique and the rest, after the death of Ricardo, and had most loyally aided us to effect our escape. So far as Jose was concerned I did not feel quite so sure of being able to screen him, but I told him that I believed I could at least ensure that his punishment should not be more severe than that involved in his compulsory entry on board a British man-o'-war--for he, too, had loyally done his fair share of work on the passage round to Port Royal. The fellow, however, took care to leave nothing to chance, for some time during that same night he contrived to entice a boat alongside, and in her made his way to Kingston, where he vanished. I made no attempt to go ashore or otherwise communicate with the admiral on the night of our arrival, for I had been on deck practically the whole time of our passage, snatching an hour or two of sleep when and how I could, and I felt that now I was entitled to, and should be all the better for, a thorough good night's rest. But the next morning I was up betimes, and, having breakfasted, went ashore in a shore boat and presented myself for admittance at the admiral's office, so as to catch him as soon as the old fellow should arrive from Kingston. Prior to this, however, I had sighted and identified the little _Francesca_, lying about half a mile farther up the harbour, looking as smart and saucy as though she had never been mauled by a pirate. There were very few people moving so early in the morning, and I hastened to take shelter in the office, as I was anxious to avoid meeting any of my former friends or acquaintances until I had first had an interview with Sir Timothy. It was getting well on toward eleven o'clock when at length his barge dashed up alongside the wharf, and he came bustling along toward his office, smartening up this, that, and the other person who did not seem to be infusing a proper amount of energy into his work as he came along. As he entered I heard the office messenger say something to him in a low tone, to which he responded: "What? Nonsense! you must be mistaken, Mooney, or else you have been drinking this morning." "Not a drop, your honour, has passed my lips this mornin'," I heard the man answer. "And furthermore, sir, the gentleman's inside this minit, waitin' to see ye." The next moment Sir Timothy entered, and I rose to my feet. "Well, I'll be shot, so it is!" he gasped. Then he grasped me by the hand and shook it heartily, exclaiming: "Welcome back to Port Royal, my boy, welcome back! And now, sit down and tell me in half a dozen words, for I'm frightfully busy this morning, where you have been, and what you have done with yourself." Thereupon I resumed my seat, and spun my yarn, not in half a dozen words exactly, but as briefly as possible, confining myself to the statement of just the leading facts and incidents, and reserving the details for a more suitable occasion. But I mentioned Lotta, and ventured to ask Sir Timothy's advice as to how I should proceed in the matter of procuring her lodgment and so on until her trustees could be communicated with and she could be restored to their charge. "Oh, as to that," answered Sir Timothy, "there need be no difficulty at all! You must dine with me at the Pen to-night, of course, so that you can give me your yarn at full length, and you had better bring the young lady with you. Lady Mary is the best person to decide what to do with her." Accordingly, that afternoon I took Lotta ashore with me, and, having looked in upon the Todds on our way, and, needless to say, received a most hospitable and friendly welcome, hired a ketureen and drove her up to the Pen, where Lady Mary, having been previously prepared by her husband, forthwith took possession of her and carried her off to her own private room, from which she reappeared no more until dinner-time, when to my amazement Lotta was led forth to be presented to the assembled company, attired in a rig which Lady Mary and her maid had devised upon the spur of the moment, and in which the senorita looked so surpassingly lovely that the sight of her fairly took my breath away. Sir Timothy, with that inherent kindness of heart which was one of his most pronounced characteristics, took care that I was the hero of the evening, making me spin my yarn in detail to him and his guests; and at the end thereof awarding me a great deal more praise than I was in the least entitled to. Lotta and I slept at the Pen that night, and after all the guests had left, we four, that is to say Sir Timothy, Lady Mary, Lotta, and I, resolved ourselves into a sort of council. It was ultimately arranged that Lotta was to remain at the Pen as the guest of Lady Mary and Sir Timothy until her trustees could be communicated with, and arrangements made with them for her to return and take possession of her home and property, and that I, meanwhile, was to resume command of the _Francesca_, and in her proceed to the pirate rendezvous and destroy the place utterly, making prisoners of all who should be found about the place, and, of course, taking care to bring back whatever booty the pirates might have been found to have accumulated. It is proper to say here that I did not consider it necessary to mention to Sir Timothy anything about Ricardo's private store of treasure hidden in the cave. I felt that Ricardo had been perfectly right when he said that I had as good a right as anybody to that, and I was quite determined that it should be Lotta's and mine, to bring about which result I felt that my best plan would be to keep the whole matter to myself. It happened that the _Francesca_ was quite ready for sea, and there was therefore nothing to wait for except a few necessary articles of clothing for myself. Accordingly, within forty-eight hours of my arrival in Port Royal, aboard the _Barracouta_, I was at sea again in the schooner, on my way to demolish the lair of the pirates. Carrying on heavily we arrived in the bay on the afternoon of the second day out, and anchored in such a position that not only the wharf and the various sheds, but also the bungalow, were within range of the schooner's guns. Then, while one-half of the crew remained on board to take care of the vessel, and guard against the possibility of the pirates playing off my own trick upon me and stealing the schooner, the other half, armed to the teeth, accompanied me ashore and proceeded to collect and convey to the schooner all the booty of every kind that we could find, and which seemed worth carrying off. Not a pirate appeared to say us nay; indeed, a little investigation soon made it apparent that my act of running away with their brig had caused them to take the alarm and make their escape in certain of the boats which I had damaged. Plain evidence was discovered of the fact that they had hurriedly repaired four of their boats and had gone off, carrying away with them all their portable booty in the shape of coin, bullion, jewellery, etcetera, and leaving only that which was too bulky to be stowed in their boats. We found sufficient of the latter, however, in the shape of valuable merchandise, to load the schooner very nearly down to her covering board; having stowed which safely away, we set fire to the whole place, and never left it until every building, including the bungalow, had been utterly destroyed. And thus ended my long and persistent pursuit of one of the most pestilent and formidable gangs of pirates that had haunted the Atlantic and West Indian waters for many years. There is very little more left me to say. Sir Timothy was good enough to award me a great deal more praise for my conduct over this affair than I felt that I at all deserved, although my conscience was not tender enough to cause me to refuse the promotion that soon afterwards followed. Lotta remained with Sir Timothy and Lady Mary for nearly two months, during which I was afforded ample opportunity to enjoy her society and bask in her smiles; and at the end of that period her guardians came over from Cuba and took her back with them for the purpose of placing her in possession of her magnificent estate, which comprised several thousand acres of the finest tobacco-growing district in the island. But before she went an arrangement had been come to between her and myself that we were to marry as soon as I had attained my post- captaincy, which occurred within a couple of years, thanks to the interest which Sir Timothy was good enough to take in me, and the opportunities which he constantly afforded me for gaining step after step "up the ratlines". Needless to say I took an early opportunity to pay yet another and a final visit to Ricardo's rendezvous for the purpose of securing the treasure which he had bequeathed to me, and which I cautiously, and bit by bit, as opportunity offered, converted into money, which I safely invested in the public funds. As for Fonseca, I was able to make such representations on his behalf as secured him complete immunity from prosecution for his connection with the pirates; and a firm friendship rapidly sprang up between us which ended in his establishing himself as a medical practitioner in Cuba, in the district in which Lotta's estates were situate; and he is now one of the most popular and prosperous physicians in the island. 
23034	----	produced from images generously made available by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) [Illustration: CAPTAIN CANOT OR TWENTY YEARS OF AN AFRICAN SLAVER D. APPLETON & CO.] CAPTAIN CANOT; OR, TWENTY YEARS OF AN AFRICAN SLAVER BEING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS CAREER AND ADVENTURES ON THE COAST, IN THE INTERIOR, ON SHIPBOARD, AND IN THE WEST INDIES. WRITTEN OUT AND EDITED FROM THE Captain's Journals, Memoranda and Conversations, BY BRANTZ MAYER. NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 846 & 848 BROADWAY. LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. M.DCCC.LIV. [Illustration: MANDINGO CHIEF AND HIS SWORD BEARER.] ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by BRANTZ MAYER, in the Clerk's Office of the United States District Court for the District of Maryland. TO N. P. WILLIS, OF IDLEWILD. MY DEAR WILLIS, While inscribing this work with your name, as a testimonial of our long, unbroken friendship, you will let me say, I am sure, not only how, but why I have written it. About a year ago I was introduced to its hero, by Dr. James Hall, the distinguished founder and first governor of our colony at Cape Palmas. While busy with his noble task in Africa, Dr. Hall accidentally became acquainted with Captain Canot, during his residence at Cape Mount, and was greatly impressed in his favor by the accounts of all who knew him. Indeed,--setting aside his career as a slaver,--Dr. Hall's observation convinced him that Canot was a man of unquestionable integrity. The zeal, moreover, with which he embraced the first opportunity, after his downfall, to mend his fortunes by honorable industry in South America, entitled him to respectful confidence. As their acquaintance ripened, my friend gradually drew from the wanderer the story of his adventurous life, and so striking were its incidents, so true its delineations of African character, that he advised the captain to prepare a copious memorandum, which I should write out for the public. Let me tell you why I undertook this task; but first, let me assure you that, entertaining as the story might have been for a large class of readers, I would not have composed a line for the mere gratification of scandalous curiosity. My conversations with Canot satisfied me that his disclosures were more thoroughly candid than those of any one who has hitherto related his connection with the traffic. I thought that the evidence of one who, for twenty years, played the chief part in such a drama, was of value to society, which, is making up its mind, not only about a great political and domestic problem, but as to the nature of the race itself. I thought that a true picture of aboriginal Africa,--unstirred by progress,--unmodified by reflected civilization,--full of the barbarism that blood and tradition have handed down from the beginning, and embalmed in its prejudices, like the corpses of Egypt,--could not fail to be of incalculable importance to philanthropists who regard no people as beyond the reach of enlightenment. The completed task rises before me like a moving panorama whose scenery and background are the ocean and tropics, and whose principal actor combines the astuteness of Fouché with the dexterity of Gil Blas. I have endeavored to set forth his story as plainly as possible, letting events instead of descriptions develope a chequered life which was incessantly connected with desperate men of both colors. As he unmasked his whole career, and gave me leave to use the incidents, I have not dared to hide what the actor himself displayed no wish to conceal. Besides the sketches of character which familiarize us with the aboriginal negro in Africa, there is a good moral in the resultless life, which, after all its toils, hazards, and successes leaves the adventurer a stranded wreck in the prime of manhood. One half the natural capacity, employed industriously in lawful commerce, would have made the captain comfortable and independent. Nor is there much to attract in the singular abnegation of civilized happiness in a slaver's career. We may not be surprised, that such an _animal_ as Da Souza, who is portrayed in these pages, should revel in the sensualities of Dahomey; but we must wonder at the passive endurance that could chain a superior order of man, like Don Pedro Blanco, for fifteen unbroken years, to his pestilential hermitage, till the avaricious anchorite went forth from the marshes of Gallinas, laden with gold. I do not think this story is likely to seduce or educate a race of slavers! The frankness of Canot's disclosures may surprise the more reserved and timid classes of society; but I am of opinion that there is an ethnographic value in the account of his visit to the Mandingoes and Fullahs, and especially in his narrative of the wars, jugglery, cruelty, superstition, and crime, by which one sixth of Africa subjects the remaining five sixths to servitude. As the reader peruses these characteristic anecdotes, he will ask himself how,--in the progress of mankind,--such a people is to be approached and dealt with? Will the Mahometanism of the North which is winning its way southward, and infusing itself among the crowds of central Africa, so as, in some degree, to modify their barbarism, prepare the primitive tribes to receive a civilization and faith which are as true as they are divine? Will our colonial fringe spread its fibres from the coast to the interior, and, like veins of refreshing blood, pour new currents into the mummy's heart? Is there hope for a nation which, in three thousand years, has hardly turned in its sleep? The identical types of race, servitude, occupation, and character that are now extant in Africa, may be found on the Egyptian monuments built forty centuries ago; while a Latin poem, attributed to Virgil, describes a menial negress who might unquestionably pass for a slave of our Southern plantations: "Interdum clamat Cybalen; erat unica custos; Afra genus, tota patriam testante figura; Torta comam, labroque tumens, et fusca colorem; Pectore lata, jacens mammis, compressior alvo, Cruribus exilis, spatiosa prodiga planta; Continuis rimis calcanea scissa rigebant."[1] It will be seen from these hints that our memoir has nothing to do with slavery as a North American institution, except so far as it is an inheritance from the system it describes; yet, in proportion as the details exhibit an innate or acquired inferiority of the negro race _in its own land_, they must appeal to every generous heart in behalf of the benighted continent. It has lately become common to assert that Providence permits _an exodus through slavery_, in order that the liberated negro may in time return, and, with foreign acquirements, become the pioneer of African civilization. It is attempted to reconcile us to this "good from evil," by stopping inquiry with the "inscrutability of God's ways!" But we should not suffer ourselves to be deceived by such imaginary irreverence; for, in God's ways, there is nothing _less_ inscrutable than his _law of right_. That law is never qualified in this world. It moves with the irresistible certainty of organized nature, and, while it makes man free, in order that his responsibility may be unquestionable, it leaves mercy, even, for the judgment hereafter. Such a system of divine law can never palliate _the African slave trade_, and, in fact, it is the basis of that human legislation which converts the slaver into a pirate, and awards him a felon's doom. For these reasons, we should discountenance schemes like those proposed not long ago in England, and sanctioned by the British government, for the encouragement of spontaneous emigration from Africa under the charge of _contractors_. The plan was viewed with fear by the colonial authorities, and President Roberts at once issued a proclamation to guard the natives. No one, I think, will read this book without a conviction that the idea of _voluntary expatriation_ has not dawned on the African mind, and, consequently, what might begin in laudable philanthropy would be likely to end in practical servitude. Intercourse, trade, and colonization, in slow but steadfast growth, are the providences intrusted to us for the noble task of civilization. They who are practically acquainted with the colored race of our country, have long believed that gradual colonization was the only remedy for Africa as well as America. The repugnance of the free blacks to _emigration from our shores_ has produced a tardy movement, and thus the African population has been thrown back grain by grain, and not wave by wave. Every one conversant with the state of our colonies, knows how beneficial this languid accretion has been. It moved many of the most enterprising, thrifty, and independent. It established a social nucleus from the best classes of American colored people. Like human growth, it allowed the frame to mature in muscular solidity. It gave immigrants time to test the climate; to learn the habit of government in states as well as in families; to acquire the bearing of freemen; to abandon their imitation of the whites among whom they had lived; and thus, by degrees, to consolidate a social and political system which may expand into independent and lasting nationality. Instead, therefore, of lamenting the slowness with which the colonies have reached their vigorous promise, we should consider it a blessing that the vicious did not rush forth in turbulent crowds with the worthy, and impede the movements of better folks, who were still unused to the task of self-reliance. Men are often too much in a hurry to do good, and mar by excessive zeal what patience would complete. "Deus quies quia æternus," saith St. Augustine. The cypress is a thousand years in growth, yet its limbs touch not the clouds, save on a mountain top. Shall the regeneration of a continent be quicker than its ripening? That would be miracle--not progress. Accept this offering, my dear Willis, as a token of that sincere regard, which, during an intimacy of a quarter of a century, has never wavered in its friendly trust. Faithfully, yours, BRANTZ MAYER. BALTIMORE, _1st July, 1854_. FOOTNOTE: [1] MORETUM,--Carm. Virg. Wagner's ed. vol. 4, p. 301. CONTENTS. PAGE CHAP. I.--My parentage and education--Apprenticed at Leghorn to an American captain--First voyage--its mishaps--overboard--black cook--Sumatra--cabin-boy--Arrival in Boston--My first _command_--View of Boston harbor from the mast-head--My first interview with a Boston merchant, WILLIAM GRAY 1 CHAP. II.--My uncle tells my adventure with LORD BYRON--CAPTAIN TOWNE, and my life in Salem--My skill in Latin--Five years voyaging from Salem--I rescue a Malay girl at Quallahbattoo--The _first_ slave I ever saw--End of my apprenticeship--My backslidings in Antwerp and Paris--Ship on a British vessel for Brazil--The captain and his wife--Love, grog, and grumbling--A scene in the harbor of Rio--Matrimonial happiness--Voyage to Europe--Wreck and loss on the coast near Ostend 10 CHAP. III.--I design going to South America--A Dutch galliot for Havana--Male and female captain--Run foul of in the Bay of Biscay--Put into Ferrol, in Spain--I am appropriated by a _new_ mother, grandmother, and sisters--A comic scene--How I got out of the scrape--Set sail for Havana--Jealousy of the captain--Deprived of my post--Restored--Refuse to do duty--Its sad consequences--Wrecked on a reef near Cuba--Fisherman-wreckers--Offer to land cargo--Make a bargain with our salvors--A sad _denouement_--A night bath and escape 19 CHAP. IV.--Bury my body in the sand to escape the insects--Night of horror--Refuge on a tree--Scented by bloodhounds--March to the rancho--My guard--Argument about my fate--"MY UNCLE" RAFAEL suddenly appears on the scene--Magic change effected by my relationship--Clothed, and fed, and comforted--I find an uncle, and am protected--MESCLET--Made cook's mate--Gallego, the cook--His appearance and character--DON RAFAEL'S story--"Circumstances"--His counsel for my conduct on the island 31 CHAP. V.--Life on a sand key--Pirates and wreckers--Their difference--Our galliot destroyed--the gang goes to Cuba--I am left with Gallego--His daily fishing and nightly flitting--I watch him--My discoveries in the graveyard--Return of the wreckers--"Amphibious Jews"--Visit from a Cuban inspector--"Fishing license"--Gang goes to Cape Verde--Report of a fresh wreck--Chance of escape--Arrival--Return of wreckers--Bachicha and his clipper--Death of Mesclet--My adventures in a privateer--My restoration to the key--Gallego's charges--His trial and fate 41 CHAP. VI.--I am sent from the key--Consigned to a grocer at Regla--CIBO--His household--Fish-loving padre--Our dinners and studies--Rafael's fate--Havana--A slaver--I sail for Africa--The Areostatico's voyage, crew, gale--Mutiny--How I meet it alone--My first night in Africa! 57 CHAP. VII.--Reflections on my conduct and character--Morning after the mutiny--Burial of the dead--My wounds--JACK ORMOND or the "MONGO JOHN"--My physician and his prescription--Value of woman's milk--I make the vessel ready for her slave cargo--I dine with Mongo John--His harem--Frolic in it--Duplicity of my captain--I take service with Ormond as his clerk--I _pack_ the human cargo of the Areostatico--Farewell to my English cabin-boy--His story 68 CHAP. VIII.--I take possession of my new quarters--My household and its fittings--History of Mr. Ormond--How he got his rights in Africa--I take a survey of his property and of my duties--The Cerberus of his harem--Unga-golah's stealing--Her rage at my opposition--A night visit at my quarters--ESTHER, the quarteroon--A warning and a sentimental scene--Account of an African factor's harem--Mongo John in his decline--His women--Their flirtations--Battles among the girls--How African beaus fight a duel _for love_!--Scene of passionate jealousy among the women 76 CHAP. IX.--Pains and dreariness of the "wet season"--African rain!--A CARAVAN announced as coming to the Coast--Forest paths and trails in Africa--How we arrange to catch a caravan--"Barkers," who they are--AHMAH-DE-BELLAH, son of the ALI-MAMI of FOOTHA-YALLON--A Fullah chief leads the caravan of 700 persons--Arrival of the caravan--Its character and reception--Its produce taken charge of--People billeted--Mode of trading for the produce of a caravan--(_Note:_ Account of the produce, its value and results)--Mode of purchasing the produce--Sale over--Gift of an ostrich--Its value in guns--_Bungee_ or "_dash_"--Ahmah-de-Bellah--How he got up his caravan--Blocks the forest paths--Convoy duties--Value and use of blocking the forest paths--Collecting debts, &c.--My talks with Ahmah--his instructions and sermons on Islamism--My geographical disquisitions, rotundity of the world, the Koran--I consent to turn, _minus_ the baptism!--Ahmah's attempt to vow me to Islamism--Fullah punishments--Slave wars--Piety and profit--Ahmah and I exchange gifts--A double-barrelled gun for a Koran--I promise to visit the Fullah country 84 CHAP. X.--Mode of purchasing Slaves at factories--Tricks of jockeys--Gunpowder and lemon-juice--I become absolute manager of the stores--Reconciliation with Unga-golah--La belle Esther--I get the African fever--My nurses--Cured by sweating and bitters--Ague--Showerbath remedy--MR. EDWARD JOSEPH--My union with him--I quit the Mongo, and take up my quarters with the Londoner 94 CHAP. XI.--An epoch in my life in 1827--A vessel arrives consigned to me for slaves--LA FORTUNA--How I managed to sell my cigars and get a cargo, though I had no factory--My first shipment--(Note on the cost and profit of a slave voyage)--How slaves are selected for various markets, and shipped--Go on board naked--hearty feed before embarkation--Stowage--Messes--Mode of eating--Grace--Men and women separated--Attention to health, cleanliness, ventilation--Singing and amusements--Daily purification of the vessel--Night, order and silence preserved by negro constables--Use and disuse of handcuffs--Brazilian slavers--(Note on condition of slavers since the treaty with Spain) 99 CHAP. XII.--How a cargo of slaves is landed in Cuba--Detection avoided--"_Gratificaciones_." Clothes distributed--Vessel burnt or sent in as a coaster, or in distress--A slave's first glimpse of a Cuban plantation--Delight with food and dress--Oddity of beasts of burden and vehicles--A slave's first interview with a negro _postilion_--the postilion's sermon in favor of slavery--Dealings with the anchorites--How tobacco smoke blinds public functionaries--My popularity on the Rio Pongo--Ormond's enmity to me 107 CHAP. XIII.--I become intimate with "Country princes" and receive their presents--Royal marriages--Insulting to refuse a proffered wife--I am pressed to wed a princess and my diplomacy to escape the sable noose--My partner agrees to marry the princess--The ceremonial of wooing and wedding in African high life--COOMBA 110 CHAP. XIV.--JOSEPH, my partner, has to fly from Africa--How I save our property--My visit to the BAGERS--their primitive mode of life--Habits--Honesty--I find my property unguarded and safe--My welcome in the village--Gift of a goat--Supper--Sleep--A narrow escape in the surf on the coast--the skill of KROOMEN 118 CHAP. XV.--I study the institution of SLAVERY IN AFRICA--Man becomes a "legal tender," or the coin of Africa--Slave wars, how they are directly promoted by the peculiar adaptation of the trade of the great commercial nations--Slavery an immemorial institution in Africa--How and why it will always be retained--Who are made _home_ slaves--Jockeys and brokers--Five sixths of Africa in domestic bondage 126 CHAP. XVI.--Caravan announced--MAMI-DE-YONG, from Footha-Yallon, uncle of Ahmah-de-Bellah--My ceremonious reception--My preparations for the chief--Coffee--his school and teaching--NARRATIVE OF HIS TRIP TO TIMBUCTOO--Queer black-board map--prolix story teller--Timbuctoo and its trade--Slavery 129 CHAP. XVII.--I set forth on my journey to TIMBO, to see the father of Ahmah-de-Bellah--My caravan and its mode of travel--My Mussulman passport--Forest roads--Arrive at KYA among the MANDINGOES--My lodgings--IBRAHIM ALI--Our supper and "bitters"--A scene of piety, love and liquor--Next morning's headache--ALI-NINPHA begs leave to halt for a day--I manage our Fullah guide--My fever--Homoeopathic dose of Islamism from the Koran--My cure--Afternoon 136 CHAP. XVIII.--A ride on horseback--Its exhilaration in the forest--Visit to the DEVIL'S FOUNTAIN--Tricks of an echo and sulphur water--Ibrahim and I discourse learnedly upon the ethics of fluids--My respect for national peculiarities--Our host's liberality--Mandingo etiquette at the departure of a guest--A valuable gift from Ibrahim and its delicate bestowal--My offering in return--Tobacco and brandy 143 CHAP. XIX.--A night bivouac in the forest--Hammock swung between trees--A surprise and capture--What we do with the fugitive slaves--A Mandingo upstart and his "town"--Inhospitality--He insults my Fullah leader--A quarrel--The Mandingo is seized and his townsfolk driven out--We tarry for Ali-Ninpha--He returns and tries his countrymen--Punishment--Mode of inculcating the social virtues among these interior tribes--We cross the Sanghu on an impromptu bridge--Game--Forest food--Vegetables--A "Witch's cauldron" of reptiles for the negroes 147 CHAP. XX.--Spread of Mahometanism in the interior of Africa--The external aspect of nature in Africa--Prolific land--Indolence a law of the physical constitution--My caravan's progress--The ALI-MAMI'S PROTECTION, its value--Forest scenery--Woods, open plains, barrancas and ravines--Their intense heat--Prairies--Swordgrass--River scenery, magnificence of the shores, foliage, flowers, fruits and birds; picturesque towns, villages and herds--Mountain scenery, view, at _morning_, over the lowlands--An African noon 153 CHAP. XXI.--We approach TAMISSO--Our halt at a brook--bathing, beautifying, and adornment of the women--Message and welcome from MOHAMEDOO, by his son, with a gift of food--Our musical escort and procession to the city--My horse is led by a buffoon of the court, who takes care of my face--Curiosity of the townsfolk to see the white Mongo--I pass on hastily to the PALACE OF MOHAMEDOO--What an African palace and its furniture is--Mohamedoo's appearance, greeting and dissatisfaction--I make my present and clear up the clouds--I determine to bathe--How the girls watch me--Their commentaries on my skin and complexion--Negro curiosity--A bath scene--Appearance of Tamisso, and my entertainment there 157 CHAP. XXII.--Improved character of country and population as we advance to the interior--We approach JALLICA--Notice to SUPHIANA--A halt for refreshment and ablutions--Ali-Ninpha's early home here--A great man in SOOLIMANA--Sound of the war-drum at a distance--Our welcome--Entrance to the town--My party, with the Fullah, is barred out--We are rescued--Grand ceremonial procession and reception, lasting two hours--I am, at last, presented to Suphiana--My entertainment in Jallica--A concert--Musical instruments--MADOO, the _ayah_--I reward her dancing and singing 162 CHAP. XXIII.--Our caravan proceeds towards Timbo--Met and welcomed in advance, on a lofty table land, by Ahmah-de-Bellah--Psalm of joy song by the Fullahs for our safety--We reach TIMBO before day--A house has been specially built and furnished for me--Minute care for my taste and comforts--Ahmah-de-Bellah _a trump_--A fancy dressing-gown and ruffled shirt--I bathe, dress, and am presented to the ALI-MAMI--His inquisitive but cordial reception and recommendation--Portrait of a Fullah king--A breakfast with his wife--My formal reception by the Chiefs of Timbo and SULIMANI-ALI--The ceremonial--Ahmah's speech as to my purposes--Promise of hospitality--My gifts--I design purchasing slaves--scrutiny of the presents--_Cantharides_--ABDULMOMEN-ALI, a prince and book-man--His edifying discourse on Islamism--My submission 167 CHAP. XXIV.--Site of Timbo and the surrounding country--A ride with the princes--A modest custom of the Fullahs in passing streams--Visit to villages--The inhabitants fly, fearing we are on a slave scout--Appearance of the cultivated lands, gardens, near Findo and Furo--Every body shuns me--A walk through Timbo--A secret expedition--I watch the girls and matrons as they go to the stream to draw water--Their figures, limbs, dress--A splendid headdress--The people of Timbo, their character, occupation, industry, reading--I announce my approaching departure--Slave forays to supply me--A capture of forty-five by Sulimani-Ali--The personal dread of me increases--Abdulmomen and Ahmah-de-Bellah continue their slave hunts by day, and their pious discourses on Islamism by night--I depart--The farewell gifts--two pretty damsels 176 CHAP. XXV.--My home journey--We reach home with a caravan near a thousand strong--Kambia in order--Mami-de-Yong and my clerk--The story and fate of the Ali-Mami's daughter BEELJIE 183 CHAP. XXVI.--Arrival of a French slaver, LA PEROUSE, Captain Brulôt--Ormond and I breakfast on board--Its sequel--We are made prisoners and put in irons--Short mode of collecting an old debt on the coast of Africa--The Frenchman gets possession of our slaves--Arrival of a Spanish slaver 190 CHAP. XXVII.--Ormond communicates with the Spaniard, and arranges for our rescue--LA ESPERANZA--Brulôt gives in--How we fine him two hundred and fifty doubloons for the expense of his suit, and teach him the danger of playing tricks upon African factors 196 CHAP. XXVIII.--CAPT. ESCUDERO of the Esperanza dies--I resolve to take his place in command and visit Cuba--Arrival of a Danish slaver--Quarrel and battle between the crews of my Spaniard and the Dane--The Dane attempts to punish me through the duplicity of Ormond--I bribe a servant and discover the trick--My conversation with Ormond--We agree to circumvent the enemy--How I get a cargo without cash 200 CHAP. XXIX.--Off to sea--A calm--A British man-of-war--Boat attack--Reinforcement--A battle--A catastrophe--A prisoner 206 CHAP. XXX.--I am sent on board the corvette--My reception--A dangerous predicament--The Captain and surgeon make me comfortable for the night--Extraordinary conveniences for escape, of which I take the liberty to avail myself 214 CHAP. XXXI.--I drift away in a boat with my servant--Our adventures till we land in the ISLES DE LOSS--My illness and recovery--I return to the Rio Pongo--I am received on board a French slaver--Invitation to dinner--Monkey soup and its consequences 218 CHAP. XXXII.--My greeting in KAMBIA--The FELIZ from Matanzas--Negotiations for her cargo--Ormond attempts to poison me--Ormond's _suicide_--His burial according to African customs 222 CHAP. XXXIII.--A visit to the MATACAN river in quest of slaves--My reception by the king--His appearance--Scramble for my gifts--How slaves are sometimes trapped on a hasty hunt--I visit the MATACAN WIZARD; his cave, leopard, blind boy--Deceptions and jugglery--Fetiches--A scale of African intellect 227 CHAP. XXXIV.--What became of the Esperanza's officers and crew--The destruction of my factory at Kambia by fire--I lose all but my slaves--the incendiary detected--Who instigated the deed--Ormond's relatives--DEATH OF ESTHER--I go to sea in a schooner from Sierra Leone--How I acquire a cargo of slaves in the Rio Nunez without money 233 CHAP. XXXV.--I escape capture--Symptoms of mutiny and detection of the plot--How we put it down 240 CHAP. XXXVI.--A "white squall"--I land my cargo near St. Jago de Cuba--Trip to Havana on horseback--My consignees and their prompt arrangements--success of my voyage--Interference of the French Consul--I am _nearly_ arrested--How things were managed, of old, in Cuba 244 CHAP. XXXVII.--A long holiday--I am wrecked on a key--My rescue by salvors--New Providence--I ship on the SAN PABLO, from St. Thomas's, as sailing master--Her captain and his arrangements--Encounter a transport--Benefit of the small-pox--Mozambique Channel--Take cargo near QUILLIMANE--How we managed to get slaves--Illness of our captain--The small-pox breaks out on our brig--Its fatality 248 CHAP. XXXVIII.--Our captain _longs_ for calomel, and how I get it from a Scotchman--Our captain's last will and testament--We are chased by a British cruiser--How we out-manoevred and crippled her--Death of our captain--Cargo landed and the San Pablo burnt 255 CHAP. XXXIX.--My returns from the voyage $12,000, and how I apply them--A custom-house encounter which loses me LA CONCHITA and my money--I get command of a slaver for AYUDAH--LA ESTRELLA--I consign her to the notorious DA SOUZA or CHA-CHA--His history and mode of life in Africa--His gambling houses and women--I keep aloof from his temptations, and contrive to get my cargo in two months 260 CHAP. XL.--All Africans believe in divinities or powers of various degree, except the Bagers--Iguanas worshipped in Ayudah--Invitation to witness the HUMAN SACRIFICES at the court of DAHOMEY--How they travel to ABOMEY--The King, his court, amazons, style of life, and brutal festivities--Superstitious rights at LAGOS--The JUJU hunts by night for the virgin to be sacrificed--Gree-gree bush--The sacrifice--African priest and kingcraft 265 CHAP. XLI.--My voyage home in the ESTRELLA--A REVOLT OF THE SLAVES during a squall, and how we were obliged to suppress it--Use of pistols and hot water 272 CHAP. XLII.--Smallpox and a _necessary murder_--Bad luck every where--A chase and a narrow escape 276 CHAP. XLIII.--The AGUILA DE ORO, a Chesapeake clipper--my race with the Montesquieu--I enter the river Salum to trade for slaves--I am threatened, then arrested, and my clipper seized by French man-of-war's men--Inexplicable mystery--We are imprisoned at GOREE--Transferred to San Louis on the Senegal--The Frenchmen appropriate my schooner without condemnation--How they used her The sisters of charity in our prison--The trial scene in court, and our sentence--Friends attempt to facilitate my escape, but our plans detected--I am transferred to a guard-ship in the stream--New projects for my escape--A jolly party and the nick of time, but the captain spoils the sport 280 CHAP. XLIV.--I am sent to France in the frigate FLORA--Sisters of charity--The prison of Brest--My prison companions--Prison mysteries--CORPORAL BLON--I apply to the Spanish minister--Transfer to the civil prison 286 CHAP. XLV.--MADAME SORRET and my new quarters--Mode of life--A lot of Catalan girls--Prison boarding and lodging--Misery of the convicts in the coast prisons--Improvement of the central prisons 292 CHAP. XLVI.--New lodgers in our quarters--How we pass our time in pleasant diversions by aid of the Catalan girls and my cash--Soirées--My funds give out--Madame Sorret makes a suggestion--I turn schoolmaster, get pupils, teach English and penmanship, and support my whole party 295 CHAP. XLVII.--MONSIEUR GERMAINE, the forger--His trick--Cause of Germaine's arrest--An adroit and rapid forgery--Its detection 300 CHAP. XLVIII.--Plan of escape--Germaine's project against Babette--A new scheme for New Year's night--Passports--PIETRO NAZZOLINI and DOMINICO ANTONETTI--Preparations for our "French leave"--How the attempt eventuated 304 CHAP. XLIX.--Condition of the sentinel when he was found--His story--Prison researches next day--How we avoid detection--Louis Philippe receives my petition favorably--Germaine's philosophic pilfering and principles--His plan to rob the SANTISSIMA CASA OF LORETTO--He designs making an attempt on the Emperor Nicholas--I am released and banished from France 310 CHAP. L.--I go to Portugal, and return in disguise to Marseilles, in order to embark for Africa--I resolve to continue a slaver--A Marseilles hotel during the cholera--DOCTOR DU JEAN and MADAME DUPREZ--Humors of the _table d'hôte_--Coquetry and flirtation--A phrenological _denouement_ 316 CHAP. LI.--I reach Goree, and hasten to Sierra Leone, where I become a coast-pilot to GALLINAS--Site of that celebrated factory--_Don_ PEDRO BLANCO--His monopoly of the Vey country--Slave-trade and its territorial extent prior to the AMERICAN SCHEME OF COLONIZATION--Blanco's arrangements, telegraphs, &c. at Gallinas--Appearance and mode of life--Blanco and the Lords' prayer in Latin 324 CHAP. LII.--Anecdotes of Blanco--Growth of slave-trade in the VEY country--Local wars--AMARAR and SHIAKAR--Barbarities of the natives 330 CHAP. LIII.--I visit LIBERIA, and observe a new phase of negro development--I go to NEW SESTROS, and establish trade--Trouble with Prince FREEMAN--The value of gunpowder physic 335 CHAP. LIV.--My establishment at New Sestros, and how I created the slave-trade in that region--The ordeal of SAUCY-WOOD--My mode of attacking a superstitious usage, and of saving the victims--The story of BARRAH and his execution 339 CHAP. LV.--No river at New Sestros--Beach--Kroomen and Fishmen--Bushmen--Kroo boats--I engage a fleet of them for my factory--I ship a cargo of slaves in a hurry--My mode of operating--Value of rum and mock coral beads--Return of the cruiser 344 CHAP. LVI.--I go on a pleasure voyage in the Brilliant, accompanied by GOVERNOR FINDLEY--Murder of the Governor--I fit out an expedition to revenge his death--A fight with the beach negroes--We burn five towns--A disastrous retreat--I am wounded--Vindication of Findley's memory 349 CHAP. LVII.--What Don Pedro Blanco thought of my Quixotism--Painful effects of my wound--Blanco's liberality to Findley's family--My slave _nurseries_ on the coast--Digby--I pack nineteen negroes on my launch, and set sail for home--Disastrous voyage--Stories--I land my cargo at night at MONROVIA, and carry it through the colony!--Some new views of commercial Morality! 356 CHAP. LVIII.--My compliments to British cruisers--The BONITO--I offer an inspection of my barracoons, &c., to her officers--A lieutenant and the surgeon are sent ashore--My reception of them, and the review of my slaves, feeding, sleeping, &c.--Our night frolic--Next morning--A surprise--The Bonito off, and her officers ashore!--Almost a quarrel--How I pacified my guests over a good breakfast--Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander 362 CHAP. LIX.--Ups and downs--I am captured in a Russian vessel, and sent to Sierra Leone--It is resolved that I am to be despatched to England--I determine to take French leave--Preparation to celebrate a birthday--A feast--A martinet--CORPORAL BLUNT--Pleasant effects of cider--A swim for life and liberty at night--My concealment--I manage to equip myself, and depart in a Portuguese vessel--I ship thirty-one slaves at Digby--A narrow escape from a cruiser--My return to New Sestros--Report of my death--How I restored confidence in my actual existence--Don Pedro's notion of me--The gift of a donkey, and its disastrous effect on the married ladies of New Sestros 369 CHAP. LX.--The confession of a dying sailor--SANCHEZ--The story of the murder of Don Miguel, and destruction of his factory by THOMPSON--A piratical revenge--An _auto-da-fé_ at sea 377 CHAP. LXI.--My establishment at Digby--The rival kinsmen, and their quarrel--JEN-KEN, THE BUSHMAN--My arrival at Digby, carousal--A night attack by the rival and his allies--A rout--Horrid scenes of massacre, barbarity, and cannibalism--My position and ransom 382 CHAP. LXII.--I escape from the bloody scene in a boot with a Krooman--Storm on the coast--My perilous attempt to land at Gallinas--How I am warned off--An African tornado--The sufferings of my companion and myself while exposed in the boat, and our final rescue 387 CHAP. LXIII.--Don Pedro Blanco leaves Gallinas--I visit Cape Mount, to restore his son to the Chief--His reception--I go to England in the GIL BLAS; she is run down by steamer in the Channel--Rescued, and reach Dover--I see London and the British Islands--The diversions, sufferings, and opinions of my servant LUNES in Great Britain--He leaves voluntarily for Africa--A queer chat and scene with the ladies--His opinion of negro dress and negro bliss 391 CHAP. LXIV.--I make arrangements for future trade and business with MR. REDMAN--I go to Havana, resolved to obtain a release from Blanco, and engage in lawful commerce--Don Pedro refuses, and sends me back with a freight--A voyage with two African females revisiting their native country--Their story in Cuba; results of frugality and industry--Shiakar's daughter--Her reception at home--Her disgust with her savage home in Africa, and return to Cuba 396 CHAP. LXV.--I find my establishment in danger, from the colonists and others--A correspondence with LIEUT. BELL, U. S. N.--Harmless termination of GOVERNOR BUCHANAN's onslaught--Threatened with famine; my relief--The VOLADOR takes 749 slaves;--THE LAST CARGO I EVER SHIPPED 399 CHAP. LXVI.--I am attacked by the British cruiser TERMAGANT, Lieut. SEAGRAM--Correspondence and diplomacy--I go on board the cruiser in a _damp uniform_--My reception and jollification--I CONFESS MY INTENTION TO ABANDON THE SLAVE-TRADE--My compact with Seagram--How we manage Prince Freeman--His treaty with the Lieutenant for the suppression of the trade--The negro's duplicity outwits himself--The British officer guaranties the safe removal of my property, whereupon I release 100 slaves--Captain DENMAN'S DESTRUCTION OF GALLINAS--Freeman begins to see my diplomacy, and regrets his inability to plunder my property, as the natives had done at Gallinas--His plot to effect this--How I counteract it 405 CHAP. LXVII.--My barracoons destroyed--Adieus to New Sestros--I sail with Seagram, in the Termagant, for Cape Mount--A slaver in sight--All the nautical men depart to attack her in boats during a calm--I am left in charge of Her Britannic Majesty's cruiser--The fruitless issue--Escape of the Serea 411 CHAP. LXVIII.--We land at Cape Mount, and obtain a cession of territory, by deed, from KING FANA-TORO and PRINCE GRAY--I explore the region--Site of old English slave factory--Difficulty of making the negroes comprehend my improvements at New Florence--Negro speculations and philosophy in regard to labor. 414 CHAP. LXIX.--Visit to Monrovia--Description of the colony and its products--Speculations on the future of the republic, and the character of colored colonization 419 CHAP. LXX.--I remove, and settle permanently at New Florence--I open communications with cruisers to supply them with provisions, &c.--Anecdote of SOMA, the gambler--His sale and danger in the hands of a Bushman--Mode of gambling one's self away in Africa--A letter from Governor Macdonald destroys my prospect of British protection--I haul down the British flag--I determine to devote myself to husbandry--Bad prospect 424 CHAP. LXXI.--Account of the character of the VEY negroes--The GREE-GREE bush--Description of this institution, its rites, services, and uses--Marriage and midwifery--A scene with Fana-Toro, at Toso--Human sacrifice of his enemy; frying a heart; indignity committed on the body--Anecdote of the king's endurance; burns his finger as a test, and rallies his men--Death of Prince Gray--Funeral rites among the Vey people--_Smoking the corpse_--I am offered the choice of his widows 429 CHAP. LXXII.--My workshops, gardens, and plantations at the Cape Mount settlement--I do not prosper as a farmer or trader with _the interior_--I decide to send a _coaster_ to aid in the transfer of the Yankee clipper A---- to a slaver--I part on bad terms with the British--Game at Cape Mount--Adventure of a boy and an _Ourang-outang_--How we killed leopards, and saved our castle--Mode of hunting elephants--Elephant law 437 CHAP. LXXIII.--Fana-Toro's war, and its effect on my establishment--I decline joining actively in the conflict--I allow captives to be shipped by a Gallinas factor--Two years of blockade by the British--A miraculous voyage of a long-boat with thirty-three slaves to Bahia--My disasters and mishaps at Cape Mount in consequence of this war--Exaggerations of my enemies--My true character--Letter from Rev. JOHN SEYS to me--My desire to aid the missionaries--CAIN and CURTIS stimulate the British against me--Adventure of the Chancellor--the British destroy my establishment--Death of Fana-Toro--The natives revenge my loss--The end 442 THEODORE CANOT. CHAPTER I. Whilst Bonaparte was busy conquering Italy, my excellent father, Louis Canot, a captain and paymaster in the French army, thought fit to pursue his fortunes among the gentler sex of that fascinating country, and luckily won the heart and hand of a blooming Piedmontese, to whom I owe my birth in the capital of Tuscany. My father was faithful to the Emperor as well as the Consul. He followed his sovereign in his disasters as well as glory: nor did he falter in allegiance until death closed his career on the field of Waterloo. Soldiers' wives are seldom rich, and my mother was no exception to the rule. She was left in very moderate circumstances, with six children to support; but the widow of an old campaigner, who had partaken the sufferings of many a long and dreary march with her husband, was neither disheartened by the calamity, nor at a loss for thrifty expedients to educate her younger offspring. Accordingly, I was kept at school, studying geography, arithmetic, history and the languages, until near twelve years old, when it was thought time for me to choose a profession. At school, and in my leisure hours, I had always been a greedy devourer of books of travel, or historical narratives full of stirring incidents, so that when I avowed my preference for a sea-faring life, no one was surprised. Indeed, my fancy was rather applauded, as two of my mother's brothers had served in the Neapolitan navy, under Murat. Proper inquiries were quickly made at Leghorn; and, in a few weeks, I found myself on the _mole_ of that noble seaport, comfortably equipped, with a liberal outfit, ready to embark, as an apprentice, upon the American ship Galatea, of Boston. It was in the year 1819, that I first saluted the element upon which it has been my destiny to pass so much of my life. The reader will readily imagine the discomforts to which I was subjected on this voyage. Born and bred in the interior of Italy, I had only the most romantic ideas of the sea. My opinions had been formed from the lives of men in loftier rank and under more interesting circumstances. My career was necessarily one of great hardship; and, to add to my misfortunes, I had neither companion nor language to vent my grief and demand sympathy. For the first three months, I was the butt of every joker in the ship. I was the scape-goat of every accident and of every one's sins or carelessness. As I lived in the cabin, each plate, glass, or utensil that fell to leeward in a gale, was charged to my negligence. Indeed, no one seemed to compassionate my lot save a fat, lubberly negro cook, whom I could not endure. He was the _first_ African my eye ever fell on, and I must confess that he was the only friend I possessed during my early adventures. Besides the officers of the Galatea, there was a clerk on board, whom the captain directed to teach me English, so that, by the time we reached Sumatra, I was able to stand up for my rights, and plead my cause. As we could not obtain a cargo of pepper on the island, we proceeded to Bengal; and, on our arrival at Calcutta, the captain, who was also supercargo, took apartments on shore, where the clerk and myself were allowed to follow him. According to the fashion of that period, the house provided for our accommodation was a spacious and elegant one, equipped with every oriental comfort and convenience, while fifteen or twenty servants were always at the command of its inmates. For three months we lived like nabobs, and sorry, indeed, was I when the clerk announced that the vessel's loading was completed, and our holiday over. On the voyage home, I was promoted from the cabin, and sent into the steerage to do duty as a "light hand," in the chief mate's watch. Between this officer and the captain there was ill blood, and, as I was considered the master's pet, I soon began to feel the bitterness of the subordinate's spite. This fellow was not only cross-grained, but absolutely malignant. One day, while the ship was skimming along gayly with a five-knot breeze, he ordered me out to the end of the jib-boom to loosen the sail; yet, without waiting until I was clear of the jib, he suddenly commanded the men who were at the halliards to hoist the canvas aloft. A sailor who stood by pointed out my situation, but was cursed into silence. In a moment I was jerked into the air, and, after performing half a dozen involuntary summersets, was thrown into the water, some distance from the ship's side. When I rose to the surface, I heard the prolonged cry of the anxious crew, all of whom rushed to the ship's side, some with ropes' ends, some with chicken coops, while others sprang to the stern boat to prepare it for launching. In the midst of the hurly-burly, the captain reached the deck, and laid the ship to; the sailor who had remonstrated with the mate having, in the meantime, clutched that officer, and attempted to throw him over, believing I had been drowned by his cruelty. As the sails of the Galatea flattened against the wind, many an anxious eye was strained over the water in search of me; but I was nowhere seen! In truth, as the vessel turned on her heel, the movement brought her so close to the spot where I rose, that I clutched a rope thrown over for my rescue, and climbed to the lee channels without being perceived. As I leaped to the deck, I found one half the men in tumultuous assemblage around the struggling mate and sailor; but my sudden apparition served to divert the mob from its fell purpose, and, in a few moments, order was perfectly restored. Our captain was an intelligent and just man, as may be readily supposed from the fact that he exclusively controlled so valuable an enterprise. Accordingly, the matter was examined with much deliberation; and, on the following day, the chief mate was deprived of his command. I should not forget to mention that, in the midst of the excitement, my sable friend the cook leaped overboard to rescue his _protegé_. Nobody happened to notice the darkey when he sprang into the sea; and, as he swam in a direction quite contrary from the spot where I fell, he was nigh being lost, when the ship's sails were trimmed upon her course. Just at that moment a faint call was heard from the sea, and the woolly skull perceived in time for rescue. This adventure elevated not only "little Theodore," but our "culinary artist" in the good opinion of the mess. Every Saturday night my African friend was allowed to share the cheer of the forecastle, while our captain presented him with a certificate of his meritorious deed, and made the paper more palatable by the promise of a liberal bounty in current coin at the end of the voyage. I now began to feel at ease, and acquire a genuine fondness for sea life. My aptitude for languages not only familiarized me with English, but enabled me soon to begin the scientific study of navigation, in which, I am glad to say, that Captain Solomon Towne was always pleased to aid my industrious efforts. We touched at ST. HELENA for supplies, but as Napoleon was still alive, a British frigate met us within five miles of that rock-bound coast, and after furnishing a scant supply of water, bade us take our way homeward. I remember very well that it was a fine night in July, 1820, when we touched the wharf at Boston, Massachusetts. Captain Towne's family resided in Salem, and, of course, he was soon on his way thither. The new mate had a young wife in Boston, and he, too, was speedily missing. One by one, the crew sneaked off in the darkness. The second mate quickly found an excuse for a visit in the neighborhood; so that, by midnight, the Galatea, with a cargo valued at about one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, was intrusted to the watchfulness of a stripling cabin-boy. I do not say it boastfully, but it is true that, whenever I have been placed in responsible situations, from the earliest period of my recollection, I felt an immediate stirring of that pride which always made me equal, or at least willing, for the required duty. All night long I paced the deck. Of all the wandering crowd that had accompanied me nearly a year across many seas, I alone had no companions, friends, home, or sweetheart, to seduce me from my craft; and I confess that the sentiment of loneliness, which, under other circumstances, might have unmanned me at my American greeting, was stifled by the mingled vanity and pride with which I trod the quarter-deck as temporary captain. When dawn ripened into daylight, I remembered the stirring account my shipmates had given of the beauty of Boston, and I suddenly felt disposed to imitate the example of my fellow-sailors. Honor, however, checked my feet as they moved towards the ship's ladder; so that, instead of descending her side, I closed the cabin door, and climbed to the main-royal yard, to _see_ the city at least, if I could not mingle with its inhabitants. I expected to behold a second Calcutta; but my fancy was not gratified. Instead of observing the long, glittering lines of palaces and villas I left in India and on the Tuscan shore, my Italian eyes were first of all saluted by dingy bricks and painted boards. But, as my sight wandered away from the town, and swept down both sides of the beautiful bay, filled with its lovely islands, and dressed in the fresh greenness of summer, I confess that my memory and heart were magically carried away into the heart of Italy, playing sad tricks with my sense of duty, when I was abruptly restored to consciousness by hearing the heavy footfall of a stranger on deck. The intruder--as well as I could see from aloft--seemed to be a stout, elderly person. I did not delay to descend the ratlins, but slid down a back-stay, just in time to meet the stranger as he approached our cabin. My notions of Italian manners did not yet permit me to appreciate the greater freedom and social liberty with which I have since become so familiar in America, and it may naturally be supposed that I was rather peremptory in ordering the inquisitive Bostonian to leave the ship. I was in command--in my _first_ command; and so unceremonious a visit was peculiarly annoying. Nor did the conduct of the intruder lessen my anger, as, quietly smiling at my order, he continued moving around the ship, and peered into every nook and corner. Presently he demanded whether I was alone? My self-possession was quite sufficient to leave the question unanswered; but I ordered him off again, and, to enforce my command, called a dog that did not exist. My _ruse_, however, did not succeed. The Yankee still continued his examination, while I followed closely on his heels, now and then twitching the long skirts of his surtout to enforce my mandate for his departure. During this promenade, my unwelcome guest questioned me about the captain's health,--about the mate,--as to the cause of his dismissal,--about our cargo,--and the length of our voyage. Each new question begot a shorter and more surly answer. I was perfectly satisfied that he was not only a rogue, but a most impudent one; and my Franco-Italian temper strained almost to bursting. By this time, we approached the house which covered the steering-gear at the ship's stern, and in which were buckets containing a dozen small turtles, purchased at the island of Ascension, where we stopped to water after the refusal at St. Helena. The turtle at once attracted the stranger's notice, and he promptly offered to purchase them. I stated that only half the lot belonged to me, but that I would sell the whole, provided he was able to pay. In a moment, my persecutor drew forth a well-worn pocket-book, and handing me six dollars, asked whether I was satisfied with the price. The dollars were unquestionable gleams, if not absolute proofs, of honesty, and I am sure my heart would have melted had not the purchaser insisted on taking one of the buckets to convey the turtles home. Now, as these charming implements were part of the ship's pride, as well as property, and had been laboriously adorned by our marine artists with a spread eagle and the vessel's name, I resisted the demand, offering, at the same time, to return the money. But my turtle-dealer was not to be repulsed so easily; his ugly smile still sneered in my face as he endeavored to push me aside and drag the bucket from my hand. I soon found that he was the stronger of the two, and that it would be impossible for me to rescue my bucket fairly; so, giving it a sudden twist and shake, I contrived to upset both water and turtles on the deck, thus sprinkling the feet and coat-tails of the veteran with a copious ablution. To my surprise, however, the tormentor's cursed grin not only continued but absolutely expanded to an immoderate laugh, the uproariousness of which was increased by another suspicious Bostonian, who leaped on deck during our dispute. By this time I was in a red heat. My lips were white, my checks in a blaze, and my eyes sparks. Beyond myself with ferocious rage, I gnashed my teeth, and buried them in the hand which I could not otherwise release from its grasp on the bucket. In the scramble, I either lost or destroyed part of my bank notes; yet, being conqueror at last, I became clement, and taking up my turtles, once more insisted upon the departure of my annoyers. There is no doubt that I larded my language with certain epithets, very current among sailors, most of which are learned more rapidly by foreigners than the politer parts of speech. Still the abominable monster, nothing daunted by my onslaught, rushed to the cabin, and would doubtless have descended, had not I been nimbler than he in reaching the doors, against which I placed my back, in defiance. Here, of course, another battle ensued, enlivened by a chorus of laughter from a crowd of laborers on the wharf. This time I could not bite, yet I kept the apparent thief at bay with my feet, kicking his shins unmercifully whenever he approached, and swearing in the choicest Tuscan. He who knows any thing of Italian character, especially when it is additionally spiced by French condiments, may imagine the intense rage to which so volcanic a nature as mine was, by this time, fully aroused. Language and motion were nearly exhausted. I could neither speak nor strike. The mind's passion had almost produced the body's paralysis. Tears began to fall from my eyes: but still he laughed! At length, I suddenly flung wide the cabin doors, and leaping below at a bound, seized from the rack a loaded musket, with which I rushed upon deck. As soon as the muzzle appeared above the hatchway, my tormentor sprang over the ship, and by the time I reached the ladder, I found him on the wharf, surrounded by a laughing and shouting crowd. I shook my head menacingly at the group; and shouldering my firelock, mounted guard at the gangway. It was fully a quarter of an hour that I paraded (occasionally ramming home my musket's charge, and varying the amusement by an Italian defiance to the jesters), before the tardy mate made his appearance on the wharf. But what was my consternation, when I beheld him advance deferentially to my pestilent visitor, and taking off his hat, respectfully offer to conduct him on board! This was a great lesson to me in life on the subject of "appearances." The shabby old individual was no less a personage than the celebrated William Gray, of Boston, owner of the Galatea and cargo, and proprietor of many a richer craft then floating on every sea. But Mr. Gray was a forgiving enemy. As he left the ship that morning, he presented me fifty dollars, "in exchange," he said, "for the six destroyed in protection of his property;" and, on the day of my discharge, he not only paid the wages of my voyage, but added fifty dollars more to aid my schooling in scientific navigation. Four years after, I again met this distinguished merchant at the Marlborough Hotel, in Boston. I was accompanied, on that occasion, by an uncle who visited the United States on a commercial tour. When my relative mentioned my name to Mr. Gray, that gentleman immediately recollected me, and told my venerable kinsman that he never received such abuse as I bestowed on him in July, 1820! The sting of my teeth, he declared, still tingled in his hand, while the kicks I bestowed on his ankles, occasionally displayed the scars they had left on his limbs. He seemed particularly annoyed, however, by some caustic remarks I had made about his protuberant stomach, and forgave the blows but not the language. My uncle, who was somewhat of a tart disciplinarian, gave me an extremely black look, while, in French, he demanded an explanation of my conduct. I knew Mr. Gray, however, better than my relative; and so, without heeding his reprimand, I answered, in English, that if I cursed the ship's owner on that occasion, it was my _debut_ in the English language on the American continent; and as my Anglo-Saxon education had been finished in a forecastle, it was not to be expected I should be select in my vocabulary. "Never the less," I added, "Mr. Gray was so delighted with my _accolade_, that he valued my defence of his property and our delicious _tête-à-tête_ at the sum of a hundred dollars!" CHAPTER II. The anecdote told in the last chapter revived my uncle's recollection of several instances of my early impetuosity; among which was a rencounter with Lord Byron, while that poet was residing at his villa on the slope of Monte Negro near Leghorn, which he took the liberty to narrate to Mr. Gray. A commercial house at that port, in which my uncle had some interest, was the noble lord's banker;--and, one day, while my relative and the poet were inspecting some boxes recently arrived from Greece, I was dispatched to see them safely deposited in the warehouse. Suddenly, Lord Byron demanded a pencil. My uncle had none with him, but remembering that I had lately been presented one in a handsome silver case, requested the loan of it. Now, as this was my first _silver_ possession, I was somewhat reluctant to let it leave my possession even for a moment, and handed it to his lordship with a bad grace. When the poet had made his memorandum, he paused a moment, as if lost in thought, and then very unceremoniously--but, doubtless, in a fit of abstraction--put the pencil in his pocket. If I had already visited America at that time, it is likely that I would have warned the Englishman of his mistake on the spot; but, as children in the Old World are rather more curbed in their intercourse with elders than on this side of the Atlantic, I bore the forgetfulness as well as I could until next morning. Summoning all my resolution, I repaired without my uncle's knowledge to the poet's house at an early hour, and after much difficulty was admitted to his room. He was still in bed. Every body has heard of Byron's peevishness, when disturbed or intruded on. He demanded my business in a petulant and offensive tone. I replied, respectfully, that on the preceding day I loaned him a _silver_ pencil,--strongly emphasizing and repeating the word _silver_,--which, I was grieved to say, he forgot to return. Byron reflected a moment, and then declared he had restored it to me on the spot! I mildly but firmly denied the fact; while his lordship as sturdily reasserted it. In a short time, we were both in such a passion that Byron commanded me to leave the room. I edged out of the apartment with the slow, defying air of angry boyhood; but when I reached the door, I suddenly turned, and looking at him with all the bitterness I felt for his nation, called him, in French, "an English hog!" Till then our quarrel had been waged in Italian. Hardly were the words out of my mouth when his lordship leaped from the bed, and in the scantiest drapery imaginable, seized me by the collar, inflicting such a shaking as I would willingly have exchanged for a tertian ague from the Pontine marshes. The sudden air-bath probably cooled his choler, for, in a few moments, we found ourselves in a pacific explanation about the luckless pencil. Hitherto I had not mentioned my uncle; but the moment I stated the relationship, Byron became pacified and credited my story. After searching his pockets once more ineffectually for the lost _silver_, he presented me his own _gold_ pencil instead, and requested me to say why I "cursed him _in French_?" "My father was a Frenchman, my lord," said I. "And your mother?" "She is an Italian, sir." "Ah! no wonder, then, you called me an 'English hog.' The hatred runs in the blood; you could not help it." After a moment's hesitation, he continued,--still pacing the apartment in his night linen,--"You don't like the English, do you, my boy?" "No," said I, "I don't." "Why?" returned Byron, quietly. "Because my father died fighting them," replied I. "Then, youngster, you have _a right_ to hate them," said the poet, as he put me gently out of the door, and locked it on the inside. A week after, one of the porters of my uncle's warehouse offered to sell, at an exorbitant price, what he called "Lord Byron's pencil," declaring that his lordship had presented it to him. My uncle was on the eve of bargaining with the man, when he perceived his own initials on the silver. In fact, it was my lost gift. Byron, in his abstraction, had evidently mistaken the porter for myself; so the servant was rewarded with a trifling gratuity, while my _virtuoso_ uncle took the liberty to appropriate the golden relic of Byron to himself, and put me off with the humbler remembrance of his honored name. These, however, are episodes. Let us return once more to the Galatea and her worthy commander. Captain Towne retired to Salem after the hands were discharged, and took me with him to reside in his family until he was ready for another voyage. In looking back through the vista of a stormy and adventurous life, my memory lights on no happier days than those spent in this sea-faring emporium. Salem, in 1821, was my paradise. I received more kindness, enjoyed more juvenile pleasures, and found more affectionate hospitality in that comfortable city than I can well describe. Every boy was my friend. No one laughed at my broken English, but on the contrary, all seemed charmed by my foreign accent. People thought proper to surround me with a sort of romantic mystery, for, perhaps, there was a flavor of the dashing dare-devil in my demeanor, which imparted influence over homelier companions. Besides this, I soon got the reputation of a scholar. I was considered a marvel in languages, inasmuch as I spoke French, Italian, Spanish, English, and _professed_ a familiarity with Latin. I remember there was a wag in Salem, who, determining one day to test my acquaintance with the latter tongue, took me into a neighboring druggist's, where there were some Latin volumes, and handed me one with the request to translate a page, either verbally or on paper. Fortunately, the book he produced was Æsop, whose fables had been so thoroughly studied by me two years before, that I even knew some of them by heart. Still, as I was not very well versed in the niceties of English, I thought it prudent to make my version of the selected fable in French; and, as there was a neighbor who knew the latter language perfectly, my translation was soon rendered into English, and the proficiency of the "Italian boy" conceded. * * * * * I sailed during five years from Salem on voyages to various parts of the world, always employing my leisure, while on shore and at sea, in familiarizing myself minutely with the practical and scientific details of the profession to which I designed devoting my life. I do not mean to narrate the adventures of those early voyages, but I cannot help setting down a single anecdote of that fresh and earnest period, in order to illustrate the changes that time and "_circumstances_" are said to work on human character. In my second voyage to India, I was once on shore with the captain at Quallahbattoo, in search of pepper, when a large _proa_, or Malay canoe, arrived at the landing crammed with prisoners, from one of the islands. The unfortunate victims were to be sold _as slaves_. They were the _first slaves_ I had seen! As the human cargo was disembarked, I observed one of the Malays dragging a handsome young female by the hair along the beach. Cramped by long confinement in the wet bottom of the canoe, the shrieking girl was unable to stand or walk. My blood was up quickly. I ordered the brute to desist from his cruelty; and, as he answered with a derisive laugh, I felled him to the earth with a single blow of my boat-hook. This impetuous vindication of humanity forced us to quit Quallahbattoo in great haste; but, at the age of seventeen, my feelings in regard to slavery were very different from what this narrative may disclose them to have become in later days. When my apprenticeship was over, I made two or three successful voyages as mate, until--I am ashamed to say,--that a "disappointment" caused me to forsake my employers, and to yield to the temptations of reckless adventure. This sad and early blight overtook me at Antwerp,--a port rather noted for the backslidings of young seamen. My hard-earned pay soon diminished very sensibly, while I was desperately in love with a Belgian beauty, who made a complete fool of me--for at least three months! From Antwerp, I betook myself to Paris to vent my second "disappointment." The pleasant capital of _la belle France_ was a cup that I drained at a single draught. Few young men of eighteen or twenty have lived faster. The gaming tables at Frascati's and the Palais Royal finished my consumptive purse; and, leaving an empty trunk as a recompense for my landlord, I took "French leave" one fine morning, and hastened to sea. The reader will do me the justice to believe that nothing but the direst necessity compelled me to embark on board a _British_ vessel, bound to Brazil. The captain and his wife who accompanied him, were both stout, handsome Irish people, of equal age, but addicted to fondness for strong and flavored drinks. My introduction on board was signalized by the ceremonious bestowal upon me of the key of the spirit-locker, with a strict injunction from the commander to deny more than three glasses daily either to his wife or himself. I hardly comprehended this singular order at first, but, in a few days, I became aware of its propriety. About eleven o'clock her ladyship generally approached when I was serving out the men's ration of gin, and requested me to fill her tumbler. Of course, I gallantly complied. When I returned from deck below with the bottle, she again required a similar dose, which, with some reluctance, I furnished. At dinner the dame drank _porter_, but passed off the gin on her credulous husband as water. This system of deception continued as long as the malt liquor lasted, so that her ladyship received and swallowed daily a triple allowance of capital grog. Indeed, it is quite astonishing what quantities of the article can sometimes be swallowed by sea-faring _women_. The oddness of their appetite for the cordials is not a little enhanced by the well-known aversion the sex have to spirituous fluids, in every shape, on shore. Perhaps the salt air may have something to do with the acquired relish; but, as I am not composing an essay on temperance, I shall leave the discussion to wiser physiologists. My companions' indulgence illustrated another diversity between the sexes, which I believe is historically true from the earliest records to the present day. _The lady_ broke her rule, but _the captain_ adhered faithfully to his. Whilst on duty, the allotted three glasses completed his potations. But when we reached Rio de Janeiro, and there was no longer need of abstinence, save for the sake of propriety, both my shipmates gave loose to their thirst and tempers. They drank, quarrelled, and kissed, with more frequency and fervor than any creatures it has been my lot to encounter throughout an adventurous life. After we got the vessel into the inner harbor,--though not without a mishap, owing to the captain's drunken stubbornness,--my Irish friends resolved to take lodgings for a while on shore. For two days they did not make their appearance; but toward the close of the third, they returned, "fresh," as they said, "from the theatre." It was very evident that the jolly god had been their companion; and, as I was not a little scandalized by the conjugal scenes which usually closed these frolics, I hastened to order tea under the awning on deck, while I betook myself to a hammock which was slung on the main boom. Just as I fell off into pleasant dreams, I was roused from my nap by a prelude to the opera. Madame gave her lord the lie direct. A loaf of bread, discharged against her head across the table, was his reply. Not content with this harmless demonstration of rage, he seized the four corners of the table-cloth, and gathering the tea-things and food in the sack, threw the whole overboard into the bay. In a flash, the tigress fastened on his scanty locks with one hand, while, with the other, she pummelled his eyes and nose. Badly used as he was, I must confess that the captain proved too generous to retaliate on that portion of his spouse where female charms are most bewitching and visible; still, I am much mistaken if the sound spanking she received did not elsewhere leave marks of physical vigor that would have been creditable to a pugilist. It was remarkable that these human tornados were as violent and brief as those which scourge tropical lands as well as tropical characters. In a quarter of an hour there was a dead calm. The silence of the night, on those still and star-lit waters, was only broken by a sort of chirrup, that might have been mistaken for a cricket, but which I think was _a kiss_. Indeed, I was rapidly going off again to sleep, when I was called to give the key of the spirit-locker,--a glorious resource that never failed as a solemn seal of reconciliation and bliss. Next morning, before I awoke, the captain went ashore, and when his wife, at breakfast, inquired my knowledge of the night's affray, my gallantry forced me to confess that I was one of the soundest sleepers on earth or water, and, moreover, that I was surprised to learn there had been the least difference between such happy partners. In spite of my simplicity, the lady insisted on confiding her griefs, with the assurance that she would not have been half so angry had not her spouse foolishly thrown her silver spoons into the sea, with the bread and butter. She grew quite eloquent on the pleasures of married life, and told me of many a similar reproof she had been forced to give her husband during their voyages. It did him good, she said, and kept him wholesome. In fact, she hoped, that if ever I married, I would have the luck to win a guardian like herself. Of course, I was again most gallantly silent. Still, I could not help reserving a decision as to the merits of matrimony; for present appearances certainly did not demonstrate the bliss I had so often read and heard of. At any rate, I resolved, that if ever I ventured upon a trial of love, it should, at least, in the first instance, be love _without_ liquor! On our return to Europe we called at Dover for orders, and found that Antwerp was our destination. We made sail at sunset, but as the wind was adverse and the weather boisterous, we anchored for two days in the Downs. At length, during a lull of the gale, we sailed for the mouth of the Scheldt; but, as we approached the coast of Holland, the wind became light and baffling, so that we were unable to enter the river. We had not taken a pilot at Ramsgate, being confident of obtaining one off Flushing. At sundown, the storm again arose in all its fury from the north-west; but all attempts to put back to England were unavailing, for we dared not show a rag of sail before the howling tempest. It was, indeed, a fearful night of wind, hail, darkness, and anxiety. At two o'clock in the morning, we suddenly grounded on one of the numerous banks off Flushing. Hardly had we struck when the sea made a clean sweep over us, covering the decks with sand, and snapping the spars like pipe-stems. The captain was killed instantly by the fall of a top-gallant yard, which crushed his skull; while the sailors, who in such moments seem possessed by utter recklessness, broke into the spirit-room and drank to excess. For awhile I had some hope that the stanchness of our vessel's hull might enable us to cling to her till daylight, but she speedily bilged and began to fill. After this it would have been madness to linger. The boats were still safe. The long one was quickly filled by the crew, under the command of the second mate--who threw an anker of gin into the craft before he leaped aboard,--while I reserved the jolly-boat for myself, the captain's widow, the cook, and the steward. The long-boat was never heard of. All night long that dreadful nor'wester howled along and lashed the narrow sea between England and the Continent; yet I kept our frail skiff before it, hoping, at daylight, to descry the lowlands of Belgium. The heart-broken woman rested motionless in the stern-sheets. We covered her with all the available garments, and, even in the midst of our own griefs, could not help feeling that the suddenness of her double desolation had made her perfectly unconscious of our dreary surroundings. Shortly after eight o'clock a cry of joy announced the sight of land within a short distance. The villagers of Bragden, who soon descried us, hastened to the beach, and rushing knee deep into the water, signalled that the shore was safe after passing the surf. The sea was churned by the storm into a perfect foam. Breakers roared, gathered, and poured along like avalanches. Still, there was no hope for us but in passing the line of these angry sentinels. Accordingly, I watched the swell, and pulling firmly, bow on, into the first of the breakers, we spun with such arrowy swiftness across the intervening space, that I recollect nothing until we were clasped in the arms of the brawny Belgians on the beach. But, alas! the poor widow was no more. I cannot imagine when she died. During the four hours of our passage from the wreck to land, her head rested on my lap; yet no spasm of pain or convulsion marked the moment of her departure. That night the parish priest buried the unfortunate lady, and afterwards carried round a plate, asking alms,--not for masses to insure the repose of her soul,--but to defray the expenses of _the living_ to Ostend. CHAPTER III. I had no time or temper to be idle. In a week, I was on board a Dutch galliot, bound to Havana; but I soon perceived that I was again under the command of two captains--male and female. The regular master superintended the navigation, while the _bloomer_ controlled the whole of us. Indeed, the dame was the actual owner of the craft, and, from skipper to cabin-boy, governed not only our actions but our stomachs. I know not whether it was piety or economy that swayed her soul, but I never met a person who was so rigid as this lady in the observance of the church calendar, especially whenever a day of abstinence allowed her to deprive us of our beef. Nothing but my destitution compelled me to ship in this craft; still, to say the truth, I had well-nigh given up all idea of returning to the United States, and determined to engage in any adventurous expedition that my profession offered. In 1824, it will be remembered, Mexico, the Spanish main, Peru, and the Pacific coasts, were renowned for the fortunes they bestowed on enterprise; and, as the galliot was bound to Havana, I hailed her as a sort of floating bridge to my EL DORADO. On the seventh night after our departure, while beating out of the bay of Biscay with a six-knot breeze, in a clear moonlight, we ran foul of a vessel which approached us on the opposite tack. Whence she sprang no one could tell. In an instant, she appeared and was on us with a dreadful concussion. Every man was prostrated on deck and all our masts were carried away. From the other vessel we heard shrieks and a cry of despair; but the ill-omened miscreant disappeared as rapidly as she approached, and left us floating a helpless log, on a sea proverbial for storms. We contrived, however, to reach the port of Ferrol, in Spain, where we were detained four months, in consequence of the difficulty of obtaining the materials for repairs, notwithstanding this place is considered the best and largest ship-yard of Castile. It was at Ferrol that I met with a singular adventure, which was well-nigh depriving me of my personal identity, as Peter Schlemhil was deprived of his shadow. I went one afternoon in my boat to the other side of the harbor to obtain some pieces of leather from a tannery, and, having completed my purchase, was lounging slowly towards the quay, when I stopped at a house for a drink of water. I was handed a tumbler by the trim-built, black-eyed girl, who stood in the doorway, and whose rosy lips and sparkling eyes were more the sources of my thirst than the water; but, while I was drinking, the damsel ran into the dwelling, and hastily returned with her mother and another sister, who stared at me a moment without saying a word, and simultaneously fell upon my neck, smothering my lips and cheeks with repeated kisses! "_Oh! mi querido hijo_," said the mother. "_Carissimo Antonio_," sobbed the daughter. "_Mi hermano!_" exclaimed her sister. "Dear son, dear Antonio, dear brother! Come into the house; where have you been? Your grandmother is dying to see you once more! Don't delay an instant, but come in without a word! _Por dios!_ that we should have caught you at last, and in such a way: _Ave Maria! madrecita, aqui viene Antonito!_" In the midst of all these exclamations, embraces, fondlings, and kisses, it may easily be imagined that I stood staring about me with wide eyes and mouth, and half-drained tumbler in hand, like one in a dream. I asked no questions, but as the dame was buxom, and the girls were fresh, I kissed in return, and followed unreluctantly as they half dragged, half carried me into their domicil. On the door-sill of the inner apartment I found myself locked in the skinny arms of a brown and withered crone, who was said to be my grandmother, and, of course, my youthful _moustache_ was properly bedewed with the moisture of her toothless mouth. As soon as I was seated, I took the liberty to say,--though without any protest against this charming assault,--that I fancied there might possibly be some mistake; but I was quickly silenced. My _madrecita_ declared at once, and in the presence of my four shipmates, that, six years before, I left her on my first voyage in a Dutch vessel; that my _querido padre_, had gone to bliss two years after my departure; and, accordingly, that now, I, Antonio Gomez y Carrasco, was the only surviving male of the family, and, of course, would never more quit either her, my darling sisters, or the old _pobrecita_, our grandmother. This florid explanation was immediately closed like the pleasant air of an opera by a new chorus of kisses, nor can there be any doubt that I responded to the embraces of my sweet _hermanas_ with the most gratifying fraternity. Our charming _quartette_ lasted in all its harmony for half an hour, during which volley after volley of family secrets was discharged into my eager ears. So rapid was the talk, and so quickly was its thread taken up and spun out by each of the three, that I had no opportunity to interpose. At length, however, in a momentary lull and in a jocular manner,--but in rather bad Spanish,--I ventured to ask my loving and talkative mamma, "what amount of property my worthy father had deemed proper to leave on earth _for his son_ when he took his departure to rest _con Dios_?" I thought it possible that this agreeable drama was a Spanish joke, got up _al' improvista_, and that I might end it by exploding the dangerous mine of money: besides this, it was growing late, and my return to the galliot was imperative. But alas! my question brought tears in an instant into my mother's eyes, and I saw that the scene was _not_ a jest. Accordingly, I hastened, in all seriousness, to explain and insist on their error. I protested with all the force of my Franco-Italian nature and Spanish rhetoric, against the assumed relationship. But all was unavailing; they argued and persisted; they brought in the neighbors; lots of old women and old men, with rusty cloaks or shawls, with cigars or _cigarillos_ in mouth, formed a jury of inquest; so that, in the end, there was an unanimous verdict in favor of my Galician nativity! Finding matters had indeed taken so serious a turn, and knowing the impossibility of eradicating an impression from the female mind when it becomes imbedded with go much apparent conviction, I resolved to yield; and, assuming the manner of a penitent prodigal, I kissed the girls, embraced my mother, passed my head over both shoulders of my grand-dame, and promised my progenitors a visit next day. As I did not keep my word, and two suns descended without my return, the imaginary "mother" applied to the ministers of law to enforce her rights over the truant boy. The _Alcalde_, after hearing my story, dismissed the claim; but my dissatisfied relatives summoned me, on appeal, before the governor of the district, nor was it without infinite difficulty that I at last succeeded in shaking off their annoying consanguinity. I have always been at a loss to account for this queer mistake. It is true that my father was in Spain with the French army during Napoleon's invasion, but that excellent gentleman was a faithful spouse as well as valiant soldier, and I do not remember that he ever sojourned in the pleasant port of Ferrol! * * * * * At length, we sailed for Havana, and nothing of importance occurred to break the monotony of our hot and sweltering voyage, save a sudden flurry of jealousy on the part of the captain, who imagined I made an attempt to conquer the pious and economical heart of his wife! In truth, nothing was further from my mind or taste than such an enterprise; but as the demon had complete possession of him, and his passion was stimulated by the lies of a cabin-boy, I was forced to undergo an inquisitorial examination, which I resisted manfully but fruitlessly. The Bloomer-dame, who knew her man, assumed such an air of outraged innocence and calumniated virtue, interlarded with sobs, tears, and hysterics, that her perplexed husband was quite at his wit's end, but terminated the scene by abruptly ordering me to my state-room. This was at nightfall. I left the cabin willingly but with great mortification; yet the surly pair eyed each other with so much anger that I had some fear for the _denouement_. I know not what passed during the silent watches of that night; but doubtless woman's witchcraft had much to do in pouring oil on the seared heart of the skipper. At daylight he emerged from his cabin with orders to have the tell-tale cabin-boy soundly thrashed; and, when Madame mounted the deck, I saw at a glance that her influence was completely restored. Nor was I neglected in this round of reconciliation. In the course of the day, I was requested to resume my duty on board, but I stubbornly refused. Indeed, my denial caused the captain great uneasiness, for he was a miserable navigator, and, now that we approached the Bahamas, my services were chiefly requisite. The jealous scamp was urgent in desiring me to forget the past and resume duty; still I declined, especially as his wife informed me in private that there would perhaps be peril in my compliance. The day after we passed the "Hole in the Wall" and steered for Salt Key, we obtained no meridian observation, and no one on board, except myself, was capable of taking a lunar, which in our position, among unknown keys and currents, was of the greatest value. I knew this troubled the skipper, yet, after his wife's significant warning, I did not think it wise to resume my functions. Nevertheless, I secretly made calculations and watched the vessel's course. Another day went by without a noontide observation; but, at midnight, I furtively obtained a lunar, by the result of which I found we were drifting close to the Cuba reefs, about five miles from the CRUZ DEL PADRE. As soon as I was sure of my calculation and sensible of imminent danger, I did not hesitate to order the second officer,--whose watch it was,--to call all hands and tack ship. At the same time, I directed the helmsman to luff the galliot close into the wind's eye. But the new mate, proud of his command, refused to obey until the captain was informed; nor would he call that officer, inasmuch as no danger was visible ahead on the allotted course. But time was precious. Delay would lose us. As I felt confident of my opinion, I turned abruptly from the disobedient mariners, and letting go the main brace, brought the vessel to with the topsail aback. Quickly, then, I ordered the watch as it rushed aft, to clew up the mainsail;--but alas! no one would obey; and, in the fracas, the captain, who rushed on deck ignorant of the facts or danger, ordered me back to my state-room with curses for my interference in his skilful navigation. With a shrug of my shoulders, I obeyed. Remonstrance was useless. For twenty minutes the galliot cleft the waters on her old course, when the look-out screamed: "Hard up!--rocks and breakers dead ahead!" "Put down the helm!" yelled the confused second mate;--but the galliot lost her headway, and, taken aback, shaved the edge of a foam-covered rock, dropping astern on a reef with seven feet water around her. All was consternation;--sails flapping; breakers roaring; ropes snapping and beating; masts creaking; hull thumping; men shouting! The captain and his wife were on deck in the wink of an eye. Every one issued an order and no one obeyed. At last, _the lady_ shouted--"let go the anchor!"--the worst command that could be given,--and down went the best bower and the second anchor, while the vessel swung round, and dashed flat on both of them. No one seemed to think of clewing up the sails, and thereby lessening the impetuous surges of the unfortunate galliot. Our sad mishap occurred about one o'clock in the morning. Fortunately there was not much wind and the sea was tolerably calm, so that we could recognize, and, in some degree, control our situation;--yet, every thing on board appeared given over to Batavian stupidity and panic. My own feelings may be understood by those who have calmly passed through danger, while they beheld their companions unmanned by fear or lack of coolness. There was no use of my interference, for no one would heed me. At last the captain's wife, who was probably the most collected individual on board, called my name loudly, and in the presence of officers and crew, who, by this time were generally crowded on the quarter-deck, entreated me to save her ship! Of course, I sprang to duty. Every sail was clewed up, while the anchors were weighed to prevent our thumping on them. I next ordered the boats to be lowered; and, taking a crew in one, directed the captain to embark in another to seek an escape from our perilous trap. At daylight, we ascertained that we had crossed the edge of the reef at high water, yet it would be useless to attempt to force her back, as she was already half a foot buried in the soft and mushy outcroppings of coral. Soon after sunrise, we beheld, at no great distance, one of those low sandy keys which are so well-known to West Indian navigators; while, further in the distance, loomed up the blue and beautiful outline of the highlands of Cuba. The sea was not much ruffled by swell or waves; but as we gazed at the key, which we supposed deserted, we saw a boat suddenly shoot from behind one of its points and approach our wreck. The visitors were five in number; their trim, beautiful boat was completely furnished with fishing implements, and four of the hands spoke Spanish only, while the _patron_, or master, addressed us in French. The whole crew were dressed in flannel shirts, the skirts of which were belted by a leather strap over their trowsers, and when the wind suddenly dashed the flannel aside, I saw they had long knives concealed beneath it. The _patron_ of these fellows offered to aid us in lightening the galliot and depositing the cargo on the key; where, he said, there was a hut in which he would guarantee the safety of our merchandise until, at the full of the moon, we could float the vessel from the reef. He offered, moreover, to pilot us out of harm's way; and, for all his services in salvage, we were to pay him a thousand dollars. While the master was busy making terms, his companions were rummaging the galliot in order to ascertain our cargo and armament. It was finally agreed by the captain and his petticoat commodore, that if, by evening and the return of tide, our galliot would not float, we would accept the wreckers' offer; and, accordingly, I was ordered to inform them of the resolution. As soon as I stated our assent, the _patron_, suddenly assumed an air of deliberation, and insisted that the money should be paid in hard cash on the spot, and not by drafts on Havana, as originally required. I thought the demand a significant one, and hoped the joint partners would neither yield nor admit their ability to do so; but, unfortunately, they assented at once. The nod and wink I saw the _patron_ immediately bestow on one of his companions, satisfied me of the imprudence of the concession and the justice of my suspicions. The fishermen departed to try their luck on the sea, promising to be back at sunset, on their way to the island. We spent the day in fruitless efforts to relieve the galliot or to find a channel, so that when the Spaniards returned in the afternoon with a rather careless reiteration of their proposal, our captain, with some eagerness, made his final arrangements for the cargo's discharge early next morning. Our skipper had visited the key in the course of the day, and finding the place of deposit apparently safe, and every thing else seemingly honest, he was anxious that the night might pass in order that the disembarkation might begin. The calm quiet of that tropic season soon wore away, and, when I looked landward, at day-dawn, I perceived two strange boats at anchor near the key. As this gave me some uneasiness, I mentioned it to the captain and his wife, but they laughed at my suspicions. After an early meal we began to discharge our heaviest cargo with the fishermen's aid, yet we made little progress towards completion by the afternoon. At sunset, accounts were compared, and finding a considerable difference _in favor_ of the wreckers, I was dispatched ashore to ascertain the error. At the landing I was greeted by several new faces. I particularly observed a Frenchman whom I had not noticed before. He addressed me with a courteous offer of refreshments. His manners and language were evidently those of an educated person, while his figure and physiognomy indicated aristocratic habits or birth, yet his features and complexion bore the strong imprint of that premature old age which always marks a dissipated career. After a delightful chat in my mother-tongue with the pleasant stranger, he invited me to spend the night on shore. I declined politely, and, having rectified the cargo's error, was preparing to re-embark, when the Frenchman once more approached and insisted on my remaining. I again declined, asserting that duty forbade my absence. He then remarked that orders had been left by my countryman the _patron_ to detain me; but if I was so obstinate as to go, _I might probably regret it_. With a laugh, I stepped into my boat, and on reaching the galliot, learned that our skipper had imprudently avowed the rich nature of our cargo. Before leaving the vessel that night, the _patron_ took me aside, and inquired whether I received the invitation to pass the night on the key, and why I had not accepted it? To my great astonishment, he addressed me in pure Italian; and when I expressed gratitude for his offer, he beset me with questions about my country, my parents, my age, my objects in life, and my prospects. Once or twice he threw in the ejaculation of, "poor boy! poor boy!" As he stepped over the taffrail to enter his boat, I offered my hand, which he first attempted to take,--then suddenly stopping, rejected the grasp, and, with an abrupt--"_No! addio!_" he spun away in his boat from the galliot's side. I could not help putting these things together in my mind during the glowing twilight. I felt as if walking in a cold shadow; an unconquerable sense of impending danger oppressed me. I tried to relieve myself by discussing the signs with the captain, but the phlegmatic Hollander only scoffed at my suspicions, and bade me sleep off my nervousness. When I set the first night watch, I took good care to place every case containing valuables _below_, and to order the look-out to call all hands at the first appearance or sound of a boat. Had we been provided with arms, I would have equipped the crew with weapons of defence, but, unluckily, there was not on board even a rusty firelock or sabre. * * * * * How wondrously calm was all nature that night! Not a breath of air, or a ripple on the water! The sky was brilliant with stars, as if the firmament were strewn with silver dust. The full moon, with its glowing disc, hung some fifteen or twenty degrees above the horizon. The intense stillness weighed upon my tired limbs and eyes, while I leaned with my elbows on the taffrail, watching the roll of the vessel as she swung lazily from side to side on the long and weary swell. Every body but the watch had retired, and I, too, went to my state-room in hope of burying my sorrows in sleep. But the calm night near the land had so completely filled my berth with annoying insects, that I was obliged to decamp and take refuge in the stay-sail netting, where, wrapped in the cool canvas, I was at rest in quicker time than I have taken to tell it. Notwithstanding my nervous apprehension, a sleep more like the torpor of lethargy than natural slumber, fell on me at once. I neither stirred nor heard any thing till near two o'clock, when a piercing shriek from the deck aroused me. The moon had set, but there was light enough to show the decks abaft filled with men, though I could distinguish neither their persons nor movements. Cries of appeal, and moans as of wounded or dying, constantly reached me. I roused myself as well and quickly as I could from the oppression of my deathlike sleep, and tried to shake off the nightmare. The effort assured me that it was reality and not a dream! In an instant, that presence of mind which has seldom deserted me, suggested escape. I seized the gasket, and dropping by aid of it as softly as I could in the water, struck out for shore. It was time. My plunge into the sea, notwithstanding its caution, had made some noise, and a rough voice called in Spanish to return or I would be shot. When I began to go to sea, I took pains to become a good swimmer, and my acquired skill served well on this occasion. As soon as the voice ceased from the deck, I lay still on the water until I saw a flash from the bow of the _galliot_, to which I immediately made a complaisant bow by diving deeply. This operation I repeated several times, till I was lost in the distant darkness; nor can I pride myself much on my address in escaping the musket balls, as I have since had my own aim similarly eluded by many a harmless duck. After swimming about ten minutes, I threw myself on my back to rest and "take a fresh departure." It was so dark that I could not see the key, yet, as I still discerned the galliot's masts relieved against the sky, I was enabled by that beacon to steer my way landward. Naked, with the exception of trowsers, I had but little difficulty in swimming, so that in less than half an hour, I touched the key, and immediately sought concealment in a thick growth of mangroves. I had not been five minutes in this dismal jungle, when such a swarm of mosquitoes beset me, that I was forced to hurry to the beach and plunge into the water. In this way was I tormented the whole night. At dawn, I retreated once more to the bushes; and climbing the highest tree I found,--whose altitude, however, was not more than twelve feet above the sand,--I beheld, across the calm sea, the dismantled hull of my late home, surrounded by a crowd of boats, which were rapidly filling with plundered merchandise. It was evident that we had fallen a prey to pirates; yet I could not imagine why _I_ had been singled from this scene of butchery, to receive the marks of anxious sympathy that were manifested by the _patron_ and his French companion on the key. All the morning I continued in my comfortless position, watching their movements,--occasionally refreshing my parched lips by chewing the bitter berries of the thicket. Daylight, with its heat, was as intolerable as night, with its venom. The tropical sun and the glaring reflection from a waveless sea, poured through the calm atmosphere upon my naked flesh, like boiling oil. My thirst was intense. As the afternoon wore away, I observed several boats tow the lightened hull of our galliot south-east of the key till it disappeared behind a point of the island. Up to that moment, my manhood had not forsaken me; but, as the last timber of my vessel was lost to sight, nature resumed its dominion. Every hope of seeing my old companions was gone; I was utterly alone. If this narrative were designed to be a sentimental confession, the reader might see unveiled the ghastly spectacle of a "troubled conscience," nor am I ashamed to say that no consolation cheered my desolate heart, till I prayed to my Maker that the loss of so many lives might not be imputed to the wilful malice of a proud and stubborn nature. CHAPTER IV. So passed the day. As the sun sank is the west, I began to reflect about obtaining the rest for mind and body I so much needed. My system was almost exhausted by want of food and water, while the dreadful tragedy of the preceding night shattered my nerves far more than they ever suffered amid the trying scenes I have passed through since. It was my _first_ adventure of peril and of blood; and my soul shrank with the natural recoil that virtue experiences in its earliest encounter with flagrant crime. In order to escape the incessant torment of insects, I had just determined to bury my naked body in the sand, and to cover my head with the only garment I possessed, when I heard a noise in the neighboring bushes, and perceived a large and savage dog rushing rapidly from side to side, with his nose to the ground, evidently in search of game or prey. I could not mistake the nature of his hunt. With the agility of a harlequin, I sprang to my friendly perch just in time to save myself from his fangs. The foiled and ferocious beast, yelling with rage, gave an alarm which was quickly responded to by other dogs, three of which--followed by two armed men--promptly made their appearance beneath my tree. The hunters were not surprised at finding me, as, in truth, I was the game they sought. Ordering me down, I was commanded to march slowly before them, and especially warned to make no attempt at flight, as the bloodhounds would tear me to pieces on the spot. I told my guard that I should of course manifest no such folly as to attempt as escape from _caballeros_ like themselves,--upon a desolate sand key half a mile wide,--especially when my alternative refuge could only be found among the fish of the sea. The self-possession and good humor with which I replied, seemed somewhat to mollify the cross-grained savages, and we soon approached a habitation, where I was ordered to sit down until the whole party assembled. After a while, I was invited to join them in their evening meal. The piquant stew upon which we fed effectually loosened their tongues, so that, in the course of conversation, I discovered my pursuers had been in quest of me since early morning, though it was hardly believed I had either escaped the shot, or swam fully a mile amid sharks during the darkness. Upon this, I ventured to put some ordinary questions, but was quickly informed that inquisitiveness was considered very unwholesome on the sand keys about Cuba! At sunset, the whole piratical community of the little isle was assembled. It consisted of two parties, each headed by its respective chief. Both gangs were apparently subject to the leadership of the _rancho's_ proprietor; and in this man I recognized the _patron_ who inquired so minutely about my biography and prospects. His companions addressed him either as "El señor patron" or "Don Rafael." I was surveyed very closely by the picturesque group of bandits, who retired into the interior of the _rancho_,--a hut made of planks and sails rescued from wrecks. My guard or sentinel consisted of but a single vagabond, who amused himself by whetting a long knife on a hone, and then trying its sharpness on a single hair and then on his finger. Sometimes the scoundrel made a face at me, and drew the back of his weapon across his throat. The conversation within, which I felt satisfied involved my fate, was a long one. I could distinctly overhear the murmuring roar of talk, although I could not distinguish words. One sentence, however, did not escape me, and its signification proved particularly interesting:--"_Los muertos_," said the French dandy,--"_no hablan_,"--Dead men tell no tales! It is hard to imagine a situation more trying for a young, hearty, and hopeful man. I was half naked; my skin was excoriated by the sun, sand, and salt water; four bloodhounds were at my feet ready to fasten on my throat at the bidding of a _desperado_; a piratical sentry, knife in hand, kept watch over me, while a jury of _buccaneers_ discussed my fate within earshot. Dante's Inferno had hardly more torments. The _filibustero_ conclave lasted quite an hour without reaching a conclusion. At length, after an unusual clamor, the _patron_ Rafael rushed from the _rancho_ with a horseman's pistol, and, calling my name, whirled me behind him in his strong and irresistible grasp. Then facing both hands, with a terrible imprecation, he swore vengeance if they persisted in requiring the death of HIS NEPHEW! At the mention of the word "_nephew_," every one paused with a look of surprise, and drawing near the excited man with expressions of interest, agreed to respect his new-found relative, though they insisted I should swear never to disclose the occurrence of which I had been an unwilling witness. I complied with the condition unhesitatingly, and shook hands with every one present except the sentry, of whom I shall have occasion to speak hereafter. It is astonishing what revulsions of manner, if not of feeling, take place suddenly among the class of men with whom my lot had now been cast. Ten minutes before, they were greedy for my blood, not on account of personal malice, but from utter recklessness of life whenever an individual interfered with their personal hopes or tenure of existence. Each one of these outlaws now vied with his companions in finding articles to cover my nakedness and make me comfortable. As soon as I was clothed, supper was announced and I was given almost a seat of honor at a table plentifully spread with fresh fish, sardines, olives, ham, cheese, and an abundance of capital claret. The chat naturally turned upon me, and some sly jokes were uttered at the expense of Rafael, concerning the kinsman who had suddenly sprung up like a mushroom out of this pool of blood. "_Caballeros!_" interposed Rafael, passionately, "you seem inclined to doubt my word. Perhaps you are no longer disposed to regard me as your chief? We have broken bread together during four months; we have shared the same dangers and divided our spoils fairly: am I _now_ to be charged to my face with a lie?" "Ha!" said he, rising from the table and striding through the apartment with violent gestures, "who dares doubt my word, and impute to me the meanness of a lie? Are ye drunk? Can this wine have made you mad?" and seizing a bottle, he dashed it to the ground, stamping with rage. "Has the blood of last night unsettled your nerves and made you delirious? _Basta! basta!_ Let me not hear another word of doubt as to this youth. The first who utters a syllable of incredulity shall kill me on the spot or fall by my hand!" This sounds, I confess, very melo-dramatically, yet, my experience has taught me that it is precisely a bold and dashing tone of bravado, adopted at the right moment, which is always most successful among _such_ ruffians as surrounded my preserver. The speech was delivered with such genuine vehemence and resolution that no one could question his sincerity or suppose him acting. But, as soon as he was done, the leader of the other gang, who had been very unconcernedly smoking his cigar, and apparently punctuating Don Rafael's oration with his little puffs, advanced to my new uncle, and laying his hand on his arm, said:-- "_Amigo_, you take a joke too seriously. No one here certainly desires to harm the boy or disbelieve you. Take my advice,--calm yourself, light a cigarillo, drink a tumbler of claret, and drop the subject." But this process of pacification was too rapid for my excited uncle. Men of his quality require to be let down gradually from their wrath, for I have frequently noticed that when their object is too easily gained, they interpose obstacles and start new subjects of controversy, so that the most amiable and yielding temper may at last become inflamed to passionate resistance. "No, _caballeros_!" exclaimed Don Rafael, "I will neither light a _cigarillo_, drink claret, calm myself, nor accept satisfaction for this insult, short of the self-condemnation you will all experience for a mean suspicion, when I _prove_ the truth of my assertions about this boy. A doubted man has no business at the head of such fellows as you are. Begone out of my hearing, Theodore," continued he, pointing to the canvas door, "begone till I convince these people that I am your uncle!" As soon as I was out of the chamber, I afterwards learned, that Rafael announced my name, place of birth, and parentage to the wreckers, and desired the other _patron_, Mesclet, who spoke Italian, to follow and interrogate me as to his accuracy. Mesclet performed the service in a kind manner, opening the interview by asking the names of my father and mother, and then demanding how many uncles I had on my mother's side? My replies appeared satisfactory. "Was one of your uncles a navy officer?" inquired Mesclet, "and where is he at present?" The only uncle I had in the navy, I declared, had long been absent from his family. But once in my life had I seen him, and that was while on his way to Marseilles, in 1815, to embark for the Spanish main; since then no intelligence of the wanderer had reached my ears. Had I been a French _scholar_ at that time, my adventures of consanguinity at Ferrol and on this key might well have brought Molière's satire to my mind: "De moi je commence à douter tout de bon; Pourtant, quand je me tâte et que je me rapelle, _Il me semble que je suis moi!_" Mesclet's report gave perfect satisfaction to the scoffers, and the mysterious drama at once established me in a position I could not have attained even by desperate services to the _filibusteros_. A bumper, all round, closed the night; and each slunk off to his cot or blanket beneath a mosquito bar, while the bloodhounds were chained at the door to do double duty as sentinels and body-guard. I hope there are few who will deny me the justice to believe that when I stretched my limbs on the hard couch assigned me that night, I remembered my God in heaven, and my home in Tuscany. It was the first night that an ingenuous youth had spent among outcasts, whose hands were still reeking with the blood of his companions. At that period of manhood we are grateful for the mere boon of _life_. It is pleasant to live, to breathe, to have one's being, on this glorious earth, even though that life may be cast among felons. There is still a _future_ before us; and Hope, the bright goddess of health and enthusiasm, inspires our nerves with energy to conquer our present ills. I threw myself down thankfully, but I could not rest. Sore and tired as I was, I could not compose my mind to sleep. The conduct of Rafael surprised me. I could not imagine how he became familiar with my biography, nor could I identify his personal appearance with my uncle who went so long before to South America. A thousand fancies jumbled themselves in my brain, and, in their midst, I fell into slumber. Yet my self-oblivion was broken and short. My pulse beat wildly, but my skin did not indicate the heat of fever. The tragedy of the galliot was reacted before me. Phantoms of the butchered wife and men, streaming with blood, stood beside my bed, while a chorus of devils, in the garb of sailors, shouted that _I_ was the cause of the galliot's loss, and of their murder. Then the wretched woman would hang round my neck, and crawl on my breast, besprinkling me with gore that spouted from her eyeless sockets, imploring me to save her;--till, shrieking and panting, I awoke from the horrible nightmare. Such were the dreams that haunted my pillow nearly all the time I was forced to remain with these desperadoes. * * * * * I thanked God that the night of the tropics was so brief. The first glimmer of light found me up, and as soon as I could find a companion to control the hounds, I ran to the sea for refreshment by a glorious surf-bath. I was on a miserable sandbar, whose surface was hardly covered with soil; yet, in that prolific land of rain and sunshine, nature seems only to require the slightest footing to assert her magnificent power of vegetation. In spots, along the arid island, were the most beautiful groves of abundant undergrowth, matted with broad-leaved vines, while, within their shadow, the fresh herbage sprang up, sparkling with morning dew. In those climates, the blaze of noon is a season of oppressive languor, but morning and evening, with their dawn and twilight,--their lengthened shadows and declining sun, are draughts of beauty that have often intoxicated less enthusiastic tempers than mine. The bath, the breeze, the renewed nature, aroused and restored a degree of tone to my shattered nerves, so that when I reached the _rancho_, I was ready for any duty that might be imposed. The twin gangs had gone off in their boats soon after daylight, with saws and axes; but Rafael left orders with my brutal sentry that I should assist him in preparing breakfast, which was to be ready by eleven o'clock. I never knew the real patronymic of this fellow, who was a Spaniard, and passed among us by the nickname of Gallego. Gallego possessed a good figure,--symmetrical and strong, while it was lithe and active. But his head and face were the most repulsive I ever encountered. The fellow was not absolutely ugly, so far as mere contour of features was concerned; but there was so dropsical a bloat in his cheeks, such a stagnant sallowness in his complexion, such a watching scowl in his eyes, such a drawling sullenness of speech, such sensuality in the turn of his resolute lips, that I trembled to know he was to be my daily companion. His dress and skin denoted slovenly habits, while a rude and growling voice gave token of the bitter heart that kept the enginery of the brute in motion. With this wretch for _chef de cuisine_ I was exalted to the post of "cook's mate." * * * * * I found that a fire had been already kindled beneath some dwarf trees, and that a kettle was set over it to boil. Gallego beckoned me to follow him into a thicket some distance from the _rancho_, where, beneath the protection of a large tarpaulin, we found _filibustero's_ pantry amply provided with butter, onions, spices, salt-fish, bacon, lard, rice, coffee, wines, and all the requisites of comfortable living. In the corners, strewn at random on the ground, I observed spy-glasses, compasses, sea-charts, books, and a quantity of choice cabin-furniture. We obtained a sufficiency of water for cookery and drinking from holes dug in the sand, and we managed to cool the beverage by suspending it in a draft of air in porous vessels, which are known throughout the West Indies by the mischievous name of "monkeys." Our copious thickets supplied us with fuel, nor were we without a small, rough garden, in which the gang cultivated peppers, tomatoes and mint. The premises being reviewed, I returned with my ill-favored guard to take a lesson in piratical cookery. It is astonishing how well these wandering vagabonds know how to toss up a savory mess, and how admirably they understand its enjoyment. A tickled palate is one of the great objects of their mere animal existence, and they are generally prepared with a mate who might pass muster in a second-rate restaurant. The _déjeuner_ we served of codfish stewed in claret, snowy and granulated rice, delicious tomatoes and fried ham, was irreproachable. Coffee had been drunk at day-dawn; so that my comrades contented themselves during the meal with liberal potations of claret, while they finished the morning with brandy and cigars. By two o'clock the breakfast was over, and most of the gorged scamps had retired for a _siesta_ during the sweltering heat. A few of the toughest took muskets and went to the beach to shoot gulls or sharks. Gallego and myself were dispatched to our grove-kitchen to scullionize our utensils; and, finally, being the youngest, I was intrusted with the honorable duty of feeding the bloodhounds. As soon as my duties were over, I was preparing to follow the siesta-example of my betters, when I met Don Rafael coming out of the door, and, without a word, was beckoned to follow towards the interior of the island. When we reached a solitary spot, two or three hundred yards from the _rancho_, Rafael drew me down beside him in the shade of a tree, and said gently with a smile, that he supposed I was at least _surprised_ by the events of the last four days. I must confess that I saw little for any thing else but astonishment in them, and I took the liberty to concede that fact to the Don. "Well," continued he, "I have brought you here to explain a part of the mystery, and especially to let you understand why it was that I passed myself off last night as your uncle, in order to save your life. I was obliged to do it, boy; and, _voto à Dios_! I would have fought the _junta_,--bloodhounds and all,--before they should have harmed a limb of your body!" Don Rafael explained that as soon as he caught a glimpse of my face when he boarded the _galliot_ on the morning of our disaster, he recognized the lineaments of an old companion in arms. The resemblance caused him to address me as particularly as he had done on the night of the piracy, the consequence of which was that his suspicions ripened into certainty. If I were writing the story of Don Rafael's life, instead of my own, I might give an interesting and instructive narrative, which showed,--as he alleged,--how those potent controllers of outlaws,--"circumstances,"--had changed him from a very respectable soldier of fortune into a genuine buccaneer. He asserted that my uncle had been his schoolmate and professional companion in the old world. When the war of South American independence demanded the aid of certain Dugald Dalgettys to help its fortune, Don Rafael and my uncle had lent the revolutionists of Mexico their swords, for which they were repaid in the coin that "patriots" commonly receive for such amiable self-sacrifice. _Republics_ are proverbially ungrateful, and Mexico, alas! was a republic. After many a buffet of fortune, my poor uncle, it seems, perished in a duel at which Don Rafael performed the professional part of "his friend." My relation died, of course, like a "man of honor," and soon after, Don Rafael, himself, fell a victim to the "circumstances" which, in the end, enabled him to slaughter my shipmates and save my life. I must admit that I use this flippant tone with a twinge of sorrow, for I think I perceived certain spasms of conscience during our interview, which proved that, among the lees of that withered heart, there were some rich drops of manhood ready to mantle his cheek with shame at our surroundings. Indeed, as he disclosed his story, he exhibited several outbursts of passionate agony which satisfied me that if Don Rafael were in Paris, Don Rafael would have been a most respectable _bourgeois_; while, doubtless, there were many estimable citizens at that moment in Paris, who would have given up their shops in order to become Don Rafaels in Cuba! Such is life--and "circumstances!" Our chat wasted a large portion of the afternoon. It was terminated by a counsel from my friend to be wary in my deportment, and a direction to console myself with the idea that he did not mean I should tarry long upon the island. "You see," said he, "that I do not lack force of eye, voice, and personal influence over these ruffians; yet I do not know that I can always serve or save a friend, so your fate hangs very much on your circumspection. Men in our situation are Ishmaelites. Our hands are not only against all, and all against us, but we do not know the minute when we may be all against each other. The power of habitual control may do much for a leader among such men; but such an one must neither quail nor _deceive_. Therefore, _beware_! Let none of your actions mar my projects. Let them never suspect the truth of our consanguinity. Call me 'uncle;' and in my mouth you shall always be 'Theodore.' Ask no questions; be civil, cheerful, and serviceable about the _rancho_; never establish an intimacy, confidence, or friendship with any _one_ of the band; stifle your feelings and your tears if you ever find them rising to your lips or eyes; talk as little as you possibly can; avoid that smooth-tongued Frenchman; keep away from our revels, and refrain entirely from wine. "I charge you to be specially watchful of Gallego, the cook. He is our man of dirty work,--a shameless coward, though revengeful as a cat. If it shall ever happen that you come in collision with him, _strike first and well_; no one cares for him; even his death will make no stir. Take this _cuchillo_,--it is sharp and reliable; keep it near you day and night; and, _in self-defence_, do not hesitate to make good use of it. In a few days, I may say more to you; until then,--_corragio figlio, è addio!_" We returned to the _rancho_ by different paths. CHAPTER V. The life of men under the ban of society, on a desolate sand key, whose only visitors are land-crabs and sea-gulls, is a dull and dreary affair. The genuine pirate, properly equipped for a desperate lot, who has his swift keel beneath him and is wafted wheresoever he lists on canvas wings, encounters, it is true, an existence of peril; yet there is something exhilarating and romantic in his dashing career of incessant peril: he is ever on the wing, and ever amid novelty; there is something about his life that smacks of genuine warfare, and his existence becomes as much more respectable as the old-fashioned highwayman on his mettlesome steed was superior to the sneaking footpad, who leaped from behind a thicket and bade the unarmed pedestrian stand and deliver. But the wrecker-pirate takes his victim at a disadvantage, for he is not a genuine freebooter of the sea. He shuns an able foe and strikes the crippled. Like the shark and the eagle, he delights to prey on the carcass, rather than to strike the living quarry. The companionship into which misfortune had thrown me was precisely of this character, and I gladly confess that I was never tempted for a moment to bind up my fate with the sorry gang. I confided, it is true, in Rafael's promise to liberate me; yet I never abandoned the hope of escape by my own tact and energy. Meanwhile, I became heartily tired of my scullion duties as the subordinate of Gallego. Finding one day a chest of carpenters' tools among the rubbish, I busied myself in making a rudder for one of the boats, and so well did I succeed, that when my companions returned to breakfast from their daily "fishing," my mechanical skill was lauded to such a degree that Rafael converted the general enthusiasm to my advantage by separating me from the cook. I was raised to the head of our "naval bureau" as boatbuilder in chief. Indeed, it was admitted on all hands that I was abler with the adze than the ladle and spoiled fewer boards than broths. A few days passed, during which I learned that our unfortunate galliot was gradually emptied and destroyed. This was the usual morning occupation of the whole gang until the enterprise ended. When the job was over Don Rafael told me that he was about to depart hurriedly on business with the whole company, to the mainland of Cuba, so that, during his absence, the island and its property would be left in custody of Gallego, myself, and the bloodhounds. He specially charged the cook to keep sober, and to give a good account of himself at the end of _five days_, which would terminate his absence. But no sooner was the _patron_ away, than the lazy scamp neglected his duties, skulked all day among the bushes, and refused even to furnish my food or supply the dogs. Of course, I speedily attended to the welfare of myself and the animals; but, at night, the surly Galician came home, prepared his own supper, drank till he was completely drunk, and retired without uttering a word. I was glad that he yielded to the temptation of liquor, as I hoped he would thereby become incapable of harming me during the watches of the night, if weariness compelled me to sleep. He was a malignant wretch, and his taciturnity and ill-will appeared so ominous now that I was left utterly alone, that I resolved, if possible, to keep awake, and not to trust to luck or liquor. The galliot's tragedy and anxiety stood me in stead, so that I did not close my eyes in sleep the whole of that dreary vigil. About midnight, Gallego stealthily approached my cot, and pausing a moment to assure himself that I was in the profound repose which I admirable feigned, he turned on tip-toe to the door of our cabin, and disappeared with a large bundle in his hand. He did not return until near day-dawn; and, next night, the same act was exactly repeated. The mysterious sullenness of this vagabond not only alarmed, but increased my nervousness, for I can assure the reader that, on a desolate island, without a companion but a single outcast, one would rather hear the sound of that wretch's voice than be doomed to the silence of such inhuman solitude. During the day he kept entirely aloof,--generally at sea fishing,--affording me time for a long _siesta_ in a nook near the shore, penetrated by a thorny path, which Gallego could not have traced without hounds. On the fourth night, when the pirate left our hut for his accustomed excursion, I resolved to follow; and taking a pistol with renewed priming, I pursued his steps at a safe distance, till I saw him enter a thick shrubbery, in which he was lost. I marked the spot and returned to the cabin. Next morning, after coffee, Gallego departed in his canoe to fish. I watched him anxiously from the beach until he anchored about two miles from the reef, and then calling the dogs, retraced my way to the thicket. The hounds were of great service, for, having placed them on the track, they instantly traced the path of the surly scoundrel. After some trouble in passing the dense copse of underwood, I entered a large patch of naked sand, broken by heaps of stones, which appeared to cover graves. One heap bore the form of a cross, and was probably the sepulchre of a wrecker. I stopped awhile and reflected as to further explorations. On entering this arid graveyard, I observed a number of land-crabs scamper away; but, after awhile, when I sat down in a corner and became perfectly quiet, I noticed that the army returned to the field and introduced themselves into all the heaps of stones or graves _save one_. This struck me as singular; for, when people are so hopelessly alone as I was, they become minute observers, and derive infinite happiness from the consideration of the merest trifles. Accordingly, I ventured close to the abandoned heap, and found at once that the neighboring sand had been freshly smoothed. I was on Gallego's track! In dread of detection, I stealthily climbed a tree, and, screening myself behind the foliage, peered out towards the sea till I beheld the cook at work beyond the reef. My musket and pistols were again examined and found in order. With these precautions, I began to remove the stones, taking care to mark their relative positions so that I might replace them exactly; and, in about ten minutes work at excavation, I came upon two barrels, one of which was filled with bundles of silk, linens, and handkerchiefs, while the other contained a chronometer, several pieces of valuable lace, and a beautifully bound, gilt, and ornamented _Bible_. One bundle, tied in a Madras handkerchief, particularly attracted my attention, for I thought I recognized the covering. Within it I found a number of trinkets belonging to the wife of my Dutch captain, and a large hairpin, set with diamonds, which I remember she wore the last day of her life. Had this wretch torn it from her head, as he imbrued his hands in her blood on that terrible night? The painful revelation brought all before me once more with appalling force. I shuddered and became sick. Yet, I had no time for maudlin dalliance with my feelings. Replacing every thing with precision, and smoothing the sand once more with my flannel shirt, I returned to the _rancho_, where I indulged in the boyish but honest outburst of nature which I could no longer restrain. I was not then--and, thank God, I am not now--a stranger to tears! To the world, the human heart and the human eye, like the coral isle of the Atlantic, may be parched and withered; yet beneath the seared and arid surface, the living water still flows and gushes, when the rock and the heart alike are stricken! * * * * * Just before sunset of this day, the deep baying of our hounds gave notice of approaching strangers; and, soon after, four boats appeared in the cove. The two foremost belonged to Don Rafael and his crew, while the others were filled with strangers whose appearance was that of landsmen rather than mariners. As Rafael received them on the beach, he introduced them to me as his especial pets, the "AMPHIBIOUS JEWS." Our delicious supper of that night was augmented by a fine store of beef, pork and fowls, brought from shore. I lingered at table as long as the company maintained a decent sobriety, and learned that these salt water Hebrews were, in truth, speculators from Cardenas, who accompanied Rafael in the guise of fishermen, to purchase the plundered cargo of my galliot. During his visit to Cuba, Don Rafael was apprised that the Cuban authorities were about sending an Inspector among the islands off the coast, and accordingly took precaution to furnish himself in advance with a regular "fishing license." All hands were forthwith set to work to make our key and _rancho_ conform to this calling, and, in a few days, the canvas roof of our hut was replaced by a thatch of leaves, while every dangerous article or implement was concealed in the thicket of a labyrinthine creek. In fact, our piscatory character could not be doubted. In our persons and occupation, we looked as innocent and rustic as a pic-nic party on a summer bivouac for fresh air and salt bathing. Nor was the transformation less real in regard to our daily tasks. We became, in reality, most industrious fishermen; so that we had more than a thousand of the finny tribe piled up and dried, when the hounds signalled the arrival of the expected officials. Breakfast was on the table when they landed, but it was the _banyan_ meal of humble men, whose nets were never filled with aught but the _scaly_ products of the sea. Our inspector was regaled with a scant fish-feast, and allowed to digest it over the genuine license. Rafael complained sadly of hard times and poverty;--in fact, the drama of humility was played to perfection, and, finally, the functionary signed our license, with a certificate of our loyalty, and pocketed a moderate "gratification" of _five ounces_! * * * * * Six long, hot, and wretched weeks passed over my head before any striking occurrence relieved the monotony of my life. During the whole of this period, our fishing adventure was steadily pursued, when information was mysteriously brought to the key that a richly-laden French vessel had run ashore on the Cayo Verde, an islet some forty miles east of the Cruz del Padre. That afternoon, both of our large boats were filled with armed men, and, as they departed with _every_ wrecker aboard, I alone was left on the islet to guard our property with the dogs. The thought and hope of escape both swelled in my breast as I saw the hulls dwindle to a dot and disappear behind the horizon. In a moment, my plan was conceived and perfected. The sea was perfectly smooth, and I was expert in the use of oars. That very night I launched our canoe,--the only vessel left in the cove,--and placing the sail, scullers, and grappling-hook within it, returned to the _rancho_ for clothing. As it was dark, I lighted a candle, when, on looking into the clothes-chest beneath my bed, I found inscribed on the lid, in fresh chalk-marks, the words "PATIENCE! WAIT!" This discovery made me pause in my preparations. Was it the warning--as it was certainly the handwriting--of Rafael? Had he purposely and honorably left me alone, in order to escape this scene of blood? Did he anticipate my effort to fly, and endeavor to save me from the double risk of crossing to the mainland, and of future provision for my comfort? I could not doubt its being the work of my friend; and, whether it was superstition or prudence, I cannot say, but I resolved, unhesitatingly, to abandon a scheme in regard to which I hesitated. Instead, therefore, of attempting to pass the strait between the key and Cuba, I went to bed, and slept more comfortably in my utter abandonment than I had done since I was on the island. Next day, at noon, I descried a small pilot-boat sailing inside the reef, with all the confidence of a perfect master of the channel. Two persons speedily landed, with provisions from the mainland, and stated that, on his last visit to Cuba, Don Rafael engaged them to take me to Havana. This, however, was to be done with much caution, inasmuch as his men would not assent to my departure until they had compromised my life with theirs by some act of desperate guilt. The pilots declined taking me then without my guardian's assent;--and, in truth, so fully was I convinced of his intention to liberate me in the best and speediest way, that I made up my mind to abide where I was till he returned. For three days more I was doomed to solitude. On the fourth, the boats came back, with the pilot's cutter, and I quickly saw that a serious encounter had taken place. The pilot-boat appeared to be deeply laden. Next day, she was taken to the mazes of the winding and wooded creek, where, I learned, the booty was disembarked and hidden. While the party had gone to complete this portion of their enterprise, the Frenchman, who was wounded in the head and remained behind, took that opportunity to enlighten me on passing events. When the wreckers reached Cayo Verde, they found the French vessel already taken possession of by "fishermen" of that quarter. Anticipated in their dirty work, our comrades were in no mood to be sociable with the fortunate party. An affray was the natural result, in which knives had been freely used, while Mesclet himself had been rescued by Rafael, pistol in hand, after receiving the violent blow on his head from which he was now suffering. Having secured a retreat to their boats, they were just beginning to think of a rapid departure, when the friendly pilot-boat hove in sight. So fortunate a reinforcement renerved our gang. A plan of united action was quickly concerted. The French vessel was again hoarded and carried. Two of the opposite party were slain in the onslaught; and, finally, a rich remnant of the cargo was seized, though the greater part of the valuables had, no doubt, been previously dispatched ashore by the earlier band of desperadoes. "Thank God!" added the narrator, "we have now the boat and the assistance of Bachicha, who is as brave as Rafael: with his '_Baltimore clipper_,' we shall conduct our affairs on a grander scale than heretofore. _Sacre-bleu!_ we may now cruise under the Columbian flag, and rob Peter to pay Paul!" In fact, the "clipper" had brought down an ample store of ammunition, under the innocent name of "provisions," while she carried in her bowels a long six, which she was ready to mount amidships at a moment's notice. But poor Mesclet did not live to enjoy the fruits of the larger piracy, which he hoped to carry on in a more elegant way with Bachicha. The _roué_ could not be restrained from the favorite beverages of his beautiful France. His wound soon mastered him; and, in a month, all that was mortal of this gallant Gaul, who, in earlier years, had figured in the best saloons of his country, rested among sand-graves of a Cuban key. "Ah!" growled Gallego, as they came home from his burial, "there is one less to share our earnings; and, what is better, claret and brandy will be more plentiful now that this sponge is under the sand!" * * * * * In a few days, the boats were laden with fish for the mainland, in order to cover the real object of our _patron's_ visit to Cuba, which was to dispose of the booty. At his departure, he repeated the cherished promise of liberty, and privately hinted that I had better continue fishing on good terms with Señor Gallego. It required some time to repair the nets, for they had been rather neglected during our late fishing, so that it was not, in fact, until Rafael had been three days gone that I took the canoe with Gallego, and dropped anchor outside the reef, to take breakfast before beginning our labor. We had hardly begun a frugal meal when, suddenly, a large schooner shot from behind a bend of the island, and steered in our direction. As the surly Spaniard never spoke, I had become accustomed to be equally silent. Unexpectedly, however, he gave a scowling glance from beneath his shaggy brows at the vessel, and exclaimed with unusual energy: "A Columbian privateer!" "We had best up anchor, and get inside the reef," continued he, "or our sport will be spoiled for the day." "Pshaw!" returned I, "she's not making for us, and, even if she were, I wouldn't be such a coward as to run!" Indeed, I had heard so much of "Columbian privateers" and the patriot service, that I rather longed to be captured, that I might try my hand at lawful war and glory. The impulse was sudden and silly. Still Gallego insisted on retreating; until, at length, we got into an angry controversy, which the cook, who was in the bow of the boat, attempted to end by cutting the anchor-rope. As he was drawing his knife to execute this purpose, I swiftly lifted an oar, and, with a single blow, laid him senseless in the bottom of the canoe. By this time the schooner was within pistol-shot; and, as she passed with a three-knot breeze, the captain, who had witnessed the scene, threw a grappling-iron into our skiff, and taking us in tow, dragged the boat from its moorings. As soon as we got into deeper water, I was ordered on deck, while Gallego, still quite insensible, was hoisted carefully on board. I told the truth as to our dispute, reserving, however, the important fact that I had been originally urged into the quarrel by my anxiety "to ship" on board a privateer. "I want a pilot for Key West," said the master, hurriedly, "and I have no time to trifle with your stupid quarrels. Can either of you perform this service?" By this time Gallego had been somewhat roused from his stupor, and pointing feebly towards me, uttered a languid:--"Yes, and an _excellent_ one." Mistaking the word "_pilote_," which in Spanish signifies "navigator," the French captain, who spoke the Castilian very badly, translated it into the more limited meaning attached to that peculiar profession, one of whose ministers he was anxious to secure. "_Bon!_" said the master, "put the other fellow back into his skiff, and make sail at once under charge of this youngster." I remonstrated, protested, declaimed, swore, that I knew nothing of Key West and its approaches; but all my efforts were vain. I was a pilot in spite of myself. The malicious cook enjoyed the joke of which I had so hastily become the victim. As they lowered him again into the boat, he jeered at my incredulity, and in ten minutes was towed to the edge of the reef, where the scamp was turned adrift to make for the island. When the schooner was once more under full sail, I was ordered to give the course for Key West. I at once informed the captain, whose name I understood to be Laminé, that he really labored under a mistake in translating the Spanish word _pilote_ into _port guide_, and assured him that Gallego had been prompted by a double desire to get rid of him as well as me by fostering his pernicious error. I acknowledged that I was a "_pilot_," or "navigator," though not a "_practico_," or harbor-pilot; yet I urged that I could not, without absolute foolhardiness, undertake to conduct his schooner into a port of which I was utterly ignorant, and had never visited. Hereupon the first lieutenant or mate interposed. This fellow was a short, stout-built person of thirty-five, with reddish whiskers and hair, a long-projecting under-jaw, and eye-teeth that jutted out like tusks. To add to his ugliness, he was sadly pitted by small-pox, and waddled about on short duck legs, which were altogether out of proportion to his long body, immense arms, and broad, massive shoulders. I do not remember a more vulgarly repulsive person than this privateering lieutenant. "He is a liar, Captain Laminé, and only wants to extort money for his services," interjected the brute. "Leave him to me, sir; I'll find a way to refresh his memory of Key West that will open the bottom of the gulf to his eyes as clearly as the pathway to his piratical hut on the sand key! To the helm, sir--to the helm!" What possible object or result could I gain by resistance amid the motley assemblage that surrounded me on the deck of the "CARA-BOBO?" She was a craft of about 200 tons; and, with her crew of seventy-five, composed of the scourings of all nations, castes, and colors, bore a commission from the authorities of Carthagena to burn, sink and destroy all Spanish property she was strong enough to capture. Laminé was born in the isle of France, while Lasquetti, the lieutenant, was a creole of Pensacola. The latter spoke French and Spanish quite well, but very little English; while both master and mate were almost entirely ignorant of navigation, having intrusted that task to the third lieutenant, who was then ill with yellow fever. The second lieutenant was absent on board a prize. Thus forced to take charge of a privateer without a moment's warning, I submitted with the best grace, and, calling for charts and instruments, I shaped my way for the destined port. All day we steered west-north-west, but at sunset, as we had run along smartly, I ordered the schooner to be "laid to" for the night. The wind and weather were both charmingly fair, and objections were of course made to my command. But, as the most difficult part of our navigation was to be encountered during the night, if I kept on my course, I resolved to persist to the last in my resolution, and I was fortunate enough to carry my point. "D--n you," said Lasquetti, as the vessel was brought to the wind and made snug for the night, "d--n you, Master Téodore; this laying-to shall give _you_ no rest, at least, if you thought to dodge work, and get into a hammock by means of it! You shall march the deck all night to see that we don't drift on a reef, if I have to sit up, or stand up till day-dawn to watch you!" Obedience, alas! had been the order of the day with me for a long while; so I promenaded the lee quarter till nearly midnight, when, utterly exhausted by fatigue, I sat down on a long brass chaser, and almost instantly fell asleep. I know not how long I rested, but a tremendous shock knocked me from the cannon and laid me flat on the deck, bleeding from mouth, nose and ears. Lasquetti stood beside me, cigar in hand, laughing immoderately, blaspheming like a demon, and kicking me in the ribs with his rough wet-weather boots. He had detected me asleep, and touched off the gun with his _havanna_! The explosion aroused all hands, and brought the commander on deck. My blood flowed, but it did not pour fast enough to relieve my agonizing rage. As soon as I recovered consciousness, I seized the first heavy implement I could grasp, and rushed at my aggressor, whose skull was saved from the blow by descending beneath the combings of the hatchway, which, the instant after, were shivered by the descent of my heavy weapon. Laminé was a man of some sensibility, and, though selfish, as usual with his set, could not avoid at once reprimanding Lasquetti with uncommon severity in presence of his men. That afternoon, I was fortunate enough, by the aid of a good chart, and a sort of _navigating instinct_, to anchor the "Cara-bobo" in the narrow harbor of Key West. When Laminé went ashore, he ordered me not to leave the schooner, while sentries were placed to prevent boats from boarding or even approaching us. Hardly was the master out of the vessel before two men seized me as I looked at the shore through a telescope. In the twinkling of an eye, I was hurried below and double-ironed; nor would I have received a morsel of food save bread and water during our detention, had I not been secretly fed by some good fellows from the forecastle, who stole to me after dark with the remnant of their rations. This was the cowardly revenge of Lasquetti. On the third day, Laminé returned, bringing an American pilot for the coast and islands. I was set at liberty as he was seen approaching; and when we got under way on another cruise, I was commanded to do duty as sailing-master, which I promptly refused with spirited indignation, until I received satisfaction from the dastard lieutenant. But this fellow had taken care to forestall me, by assuring Laminé that he never dreamed of securing me until I was caught in the very act of escaping from the schooner! During a week's cruise of indifferent success with these "patriots," I won the kind heart of the American pilot, who heard the story of my late adventures with patience; and, through his influence with the commander, my lot was mitigated, notwithstanding my refusal to do duty. By this time, the third lieutenant was restored to sufficient health to resume the deck. He was a native of Spain and a gallant sailor. Many an hour did he pass beside me, recounting his adventures or listening to mine, until I seemed to win his sympathy, and insure his assistance for relief from this miserable tyranny. At length, the schooner's course was shaped for the Cruz del Padre, while I was summoned to the cabin. I perceived at once a singular change for the better in Monsieur Laminé's manner. He requested me to be seated; pressed me to accept a tumbler of claret; inquired about my health, and ended this harmonious overture by saying, that if I would sign a document exonerating him from all charges of compulsory detention or ill-treatment, he would pay me two hundred dollars for my service, and land me again on the key. I promptly saw that his object in replacing me on the island was to prevent my complaints against his conduct from reaching the ears of a tribunal in a neutral port; and, accordingly, I declined the proposition,--demanding, however, to be put on board of any vessel we met, no matter what might be her nationality. I sternly refused his money, and insisted that my only desire was to be free from his brutal officer. But Laminé was in power and I was not. In the end, I discovered that worse consequences might befall me among these ruffians, if I hesitated to take the recompense and sign the paper. In fact, I began to be quite satisfied that, in reality, it was an _escape_ to be freed from the privateer, even if I took refuge once more among pirates! So, after a good deal of claret and controversy had been wasted, I signed the document and pocketed the cash. As the first bars of saffron streaked the east next morning, the reef of the Cruz del Padre hove in sight dead ahead. The third lieutenant presented me at my departure with a set of charts, a spy-glass, a quadrant, and a large bag of clothes; while, in the breast of a rich silk waistcoat, he concealed three ounces and a silver watch, which he desired me to wear in honor of him, if ever I was fortunate enough to tread the streets of Havana. Several of the white sailors also offered me useful garments; and a black fellow, who had charge of the boat in which I was sent ashore, forced on me two sovereigns, which he considered a small gratuity to "_a countryman_" in distress. He hailed from Marblehead, and protested that he knew me in Salem when I was a lad. As the boat approached the _rancho's_ cove, I perceived every body under arms, and heard Don Rafael command my boatmen, in a loud, imperious voice, to begone, or he would fire. Standing on the thwarts of the boat, I ordered the oarsmen to back water, and leaping into the sea, waist-deep, struggled alone to the beach, calling "mi tio! mi tio!"--"_my uncle! Don Rafael!_"--who, recognizing my voice and gestures, promptly rushed forward to embrace me. Our boat was then allowed to approach the landing and disburthen itself of the gifts. I thought it best to request my sable ally from Marblehead to narrate, in as good Spanish or _lingua-franca_, as he could press into his service, the whole story of my capture and the conduct of Gallego. This being done, the boat and its crew were dispatched aboard with a multitude of Spanish courtesies and the substantial gift of some _Chateau Margaux_. After an early supper, I became the lion of the evening, and was requested to give a narrative of my cruise in the "patriot service." I noticed that some of the gang looked on me askance with an incredulous air, while others amused themselves by smoking and spitting in a very contemptuous way whenever I reached what I conceived to be a thrilling portion of my story. At its conclusion, I arose and deposited in the hands of Don Rafael my gifts of two hundred dollars and the two sovereigns. This evidence of reciprocity seemed to restore the good temper of my impatient hearers, so that, by the time the _patron_ went round the circle, giving each man his share of my earnings,--not even omitting Gallego,--my credit was almost restored among the gang. "As for these two pieces of gold, these charts, instruments and clothes," said Don Rafael, "they are the property of the youth, and I am sure none of you are mean enough to divide them. The money was another thing. That was _his_ earning, as the 'fishing _revenue_' is ours; and as he is entitled to a share of what _we_ gain, we are entitled to participate in whatever _he_ wins. Yet, _amigos_, this is not all. My nephew, _caballeros_, has been accused, by one of this party, _during his absence_, of being not only a contemptible thief, but a traitor and coward. Now, as these are three 'blasphemous vituperations' which are not to be found under any head in my prayer-book, and never were chargeable on the blood of our family, I insist on immediate justice to my kinsman. Let that cowardly scoundrel repeat and _prove_ his accusation of Téodore, face to face! You, _señores_, shall stand judges. Every thing shall be fair. To-night, my boy shall be found guilty or purged of the baseness imputed to him; and, moreover, I apprise you now, that if he is innocent, I shall to-morrow restore him to liberty. His voluntary return was a voucher of honesty; and I doubt whether there is a clever man among you who does not agree with me. Stand forth, Gallego, and charge this youth again with the infamy you heaped on him while he was away." But the sullen wretch bowed his head, with a hang-dog look, and rolled his black and bushy skull slowly from side to side, with an air of bullying defiance. Still he remained perfectly silent. "Stand forth, Gallego, once more, I say!" shouted Don Rafael, stamping with fury and foaming at the mouth; "stand forth, imp of the devil, and make good your charge, or I'll trice you up to these rafters by your thumbs, and lash you with a cow-hide till your stretched skin peels off in ribbons!" The threat restored Gallego's voice; but he could only say that there was no use in repeating the charges, because the case was prejudged, and all feared Don Rafael and his parasite to such a degree that it was impossible to treat him with justice. "Yet, look ye, señores, if I can't talk, I can fight. If Don Rafael is ready to meet me, knife in hand, in support of my cause, why, all I have to say is, that I am ready for him and his bastard to boot!" In a moment, Rafael's knife was out of his belt, and the two sprang forward in a death-struggle, which would doubtless have been a short affair, had not the whole party interposed between the combatants and forbidden the fight. In the hurly-burly, Gallego took to his heels and departed. The scoundrel's escape caused some alarm in the camp, as it was feared he might leave the island, and, turning king's evidence, make the waters of Cuba too hot for the band. Accordingly, all the canoes and boats that night were drawn up on the beach and kept under double watch. When order was restored in the _rancho_, I asked Don Rafael to explain the "three accusations" that had been made against my fair fame; when I learned that I was charged by Gallego with having felled him in the boat, with having shipped voluntarily in the privateer, and with returning in the Cara-bobo's boats _to rob the rancho of its valuables_! The first of the allegations I admitted to be true; the second had been disproved by the privateer's boatmen; and, as to the third, I at once insisted upon the party's taking torches and accompanying me to the graveyard, where, I told them, they would find--as, in truth, they did--the valuables this villain had charged me with stealing. On our way thither, I recounted the manner in which I detected his infamy. Nest morning we divided into two parties, and taking the dogs, proceeded in chase of the dastard Galician. He was quickly tracked by the hounds and caught asleep, with two empty flasks beside him. A drum-head court-martial at once convened for his trial, and it was unanimously resolved to chain him to a tree, where he was to be left exposed to the elements until he starved to death. The passive and silent fit had again come over Gallego. I implored that the sentence might be softened, but I was laughed at for my childish pity, and ordered home to the _rancho_. The command to chain him having been executed, the Spanish outcast was left to his terrible fate. One of the men, out of compassion, as he said, secretly conveyed a case of gin to the doomed man, and left it within reach, either to solace his departure from the world, or to render him insensible. But his end was speedy. Next morning the guard found him dead, with six empty bottles out of the case. His body was denied the rites of sepulture. It was left lying in chains as he perished, to rot in the sun and be devoured by the insects generated from his decay. CHAPTER VI. When these dreadful scenes were over, Don Rafael took me aside with the pleasant news that the time for my liberation was indeed arrived. He handed me one hundred and twenty-five dollars, which wore my share of the proceeds of our lawful fishing. "Take the money," said Rafael, with a good deal of feeling; "take it, young man, with _perfect_ confidence;--_there is no blood on it!_" My preparations for departure were quickly made, as Bachicha was in the cove with his craft ready to take me to the mainland. I bade a hasty adieu to the gang; and perhaps it is rare that any one ever abandoned the companions of several months' intimacy with so little pain. Rafael's solicitude for my character touched me. He had done all in his power to preserve my self-respect, and I was, therefore, well disposed to regard the good counsel he gave me at parting, and to believe in his sincerity when he pictured a bright future, and contrasted it with his own desolation and remorse. "I have recommended you, _hijo mio_, to a friend in Regla, on the opposite side of the harbor at Havana, who will take care of you. He is a _paisano_ of ours. Take these additional ten ounces, which are the fruit of honest labor. They will help you to appear properly in Havana; so that, with the care of Bachicha and our Regla countryman, I don't despair of your welfare. ADIOS! _para siempre!_" And so we parted;--and it was, indeed, an adieu for ever. We never met again, but I heard of Don Rafael and his fortunes. The new enterprise with the pilot-boat turned out successfully, and the band acquired considerable property on the island before the piratical nests along the coast of Cuba were broken up by cruisers. Rafael had some narrow escapes from the noose and the yard arm; but he eluded the grasp of his pursuers, and died a respectable _ranchero_ on a comfortable farm in the interior of the Queen of the Antilles. * * * * * The light winds of summer soon brought us inside the Moro Castle, past the frowning batteries of the Cabanas, and at anchor near Regla, within the beautiful harbor of Havana. I shall never forget the impression made on my mind by this delicious scene as it first broke on my sight at sunrise, in all the cool freshness of morning. The grand amphitheatre of hills swept down to the calm and lake-like water with gentle slopes, lapped in the velvet robes of richest green, and embroidered, as it were, with lace-like spots of castle, fort, dwelling, and villa, until the seaward points were terminated on the left, by the brilliant city, and on the right by a pile of majestic batteries. This grand and lasting impression was made almost at a glance, for, at my time of life, I was more concerned with man than nature, and rarely paused to dwell on the most fascinating scenery. Accordingly, I hastened to Regla with my letter of introduction, which was _interpreted_ by Bachicha to the Italian grocer, the friend of Rafael, to whom I was confided. _Il signore Carlo Cibo_ was an illiterate man of kind heart, who had adventurously emigrated from Italy to furnish the Havanese with good things; while, in return, the Havanese had been so pleased with his provender, that Carlo may be said to have been a man "very well to do in the world" for a foreigner. He received me with unbounded kindness;--welcomed me to his bachelor home;--apologized for its cold cheerlessness, and ordered me to consider himself and his "_casa_" entirely at my disposal as long as I chose to remain. I was content to accept this unstinted hospitality for a few days, while I ran over the town, the hills, and the _paseos_; but I could not consent to dally long eating the bread of idleness and charity. I observed that my friend Carlo was either the most prudent or least inquisitive man I knew, for he never asked me a question about my early or recent history. As he would not lend the conversation to my affairs, I one day took the liberty to inquire whether there was a vessel in port bound to the Pacific Ocean or Mexico, in which my protector could possibly find a situation for me as an officer, or procure me permission to work my way even as a common sailor. The kind grocer instantly divined my true motive, and while he honored me for it, deprecated the idea of my departure. He said that my visit, instead of being a burden, was a pleasure he could not soon replace. As to the expenses of his house, he declared they were, in fact, _not_ increased. What fed five, fed half a dozen; and, as to my proposal to go to Mexico, or any other place in Spanish America on the Continent, with a view of "making my fortune," he warmly protested against it, in consequence of his own experience. "They can never conquer their jealousy of _foreigners_," said Carlo; "you may live with them for years, and imagine yourself as intimate as brothers; but, at last, _carramba_, you will find something turn up, that marks you an alien and kindles nationality against you. Take my advice, Don Téodore, stay where you are; study Spanish carefully; get the hang of the people; and, my life on it, before long, you'll have your hands full of trump cards and the game in your power." I did as he desired, and was presented to a corpulent old quiz of a _padre_, who pretended to instruct me in classical Castilian. Two lessons demonstrated his incapacity; but as he was a jolly gossip of my grocer, and hail-fellow with the whole village of Regla, I thought it good policy to continue his pupil in appearance, while I taught myself _in private_. Besides this, the _padre_ was a _bon vivant_ and devoted lover of fish. Now, as I happened to be a good sportsman, with a canoe at my command, I managed to supply his kitchen with an abundance of the finny tribe, which his cook was an adept in preparing. It may be supposed that our "fast days" were especial epochs of delicious reunion. A fine dinner smoked on the table; a good bottle was added by the grocer; and, while my entertainer discussed the viands, I contrived to keep him in continual chat, which, in reality, was the best practical lesson a man in my circumstances could receive. * * * * * It is strange how our lives and destinies are often decided by trifles. As I sailed about the harbor in idleness, my nautical eye and taste were struck by the trim rig of the sharp built "slavers," which, at that time, used to congregate at Havana. There was something bewitching to my mind in their race-horse beauty. A splendid vessel has always had the same influence on my mind, that I have heard a splendid woman has on the minds of other men. These dashing _slavers_, with their arrowy hulls and raking masts, got complete possession of my fancy. There was hardly a day that I did not come home with a discovery of added charms. Signor Carlo listened in silence and nodded his head, when I was done, with an approving smile and a "_bueno!_" I continued my sailing peregrinations for a month around the harbor, when my kind entertainer invited me to accompany him aboard a vessel of which, he said, he owned two shares--_she was bound to Africa!_ The splendid clipper was one of the very craft that had won my heart; and my feverish soul was completely upset by the gala-scene as we drifted down the bay, partaking of a famous breakfast, and quaffing bumpers of Champagne to the schooner's luck. When she passed the Moro Castle we leaped into our boats, and gave the voyagers three hearty and tipsy cheers. My grocer was a "slaver!" I had a thousand questions for the Italian in regard to the trade, now that I found _he_ belonged to the fraternity. All my inquiries were gratified in his usually amiable manner; and that night, in my dreams, I was on board of a coaster chased by John Bull. My mind was made up. Mexico, Peru, South American independence, patriotism, and all that, were given to the breezes of the gulf. I slept off my headache and nightmare; and next morning announced to Cibo my abandonment of the Costa Firma, and my anxiety to get a situation in a vessel bound to Africa. In a few days I was told that my wishes would perhaps be gratified, as a fast vessel from the Canaries was about to be sold; and if she went off a bargain, Signor Carlo had resolved to purchase her, with a friend, to send to Africa. Accordingly, the Canary "GLOBO" was acquired for $3000; and after a perfect refitting at the Casa-Blanca of Havana, loomed in the harbor as a respectable pilot-boat of forty tons. Her name, in consequence of reputed speed, was changed to "El Areostatico;" a culverine was placed amidships; all the requisites for a slave cargo were put on board; fifteen sailors, the refuse of the press-gang and jail-birds, were shipped; powder, ammunition, and small arms, were abundantly supplied; and, last of all, four kegs, ballasted with specie, were conveyed into the cabin to purchase our return cargo. It was on the 2d of September, 1826, after a charming _déjeuner_, that I bade farewell to my friend Carlo on the deck of the Areostatico, cleared for the Cape de Verd isles, but, in truth, bound for the Rio Pongo. Our crew consisted of twenty-one scamps--Spaniards, Portuguese, Frenchmen, and mongrels. The Majorcan captain was an odd character to intrust with such an enterprise, and probably nowhere else, save in Havana at that period, would he have been allowed to command a slaver. He was a scientific navigator, but no sailor;--afraid of his shadow, he had not a particle of confidence in his own judgment; every body was listened to, and he readily yielded his opinions without argument or controversy. Our chief officer, a Catalonian cousin of the captain, made no pretensions to seamanship, yet he was a good mathematician. I still remember the laughs I had at the care he took of his lily-white hands, and the jokes we cracked upon his girl-like manners, voice, and conversation. The boatswain, who was in his watch, assured me that he rarely gave an order without humming it out to a tune of some favorite opera. In this fantastic group, I occupied the position of supernumerary officer and interpreter; but accustomed, as I had been, to wholesome _American_ seamanship and discipline, I trembled not a little when I discovered the amazing ignorance of the master, and observed the utter worthlessness of our crew. These things made me doubly vigilant; and sometimes I grieved that I was not still in Regla, or on the _paseo_. On the tenth day out, a northwester began to pipe and ripen to a gale as the sea rose with it. Sail had been soon diminished on the schooner; but when I was relieved in my watch by the first officer, I hinted to the captain that it would be best to lay the vessel to as soon as possible. We had been scudding before the tempest for some hours under a close-reefed foresail, and I feared if we did not bring our craft to the wind at once, we would either run her under, or be swamped in attempting the manoeuvre when the waves got higher. The captain, however, with his usual submission to the views of the wrong person, took the advice of the helmsman, who happened to be older than I, and the schooner was allowed to dash on either through or over the seas, at the speed of a racer. By this time the forward deck was always under water, and the men gathered abaft the trunk to keep as dry as possible. Officers and crew were huddled together pell-mell, and, with our usual loose discipline, every body joined in the conversation and counsel. Before sundown I again advised the laying-to of the schooner; but the task had now become so formidable that the men who dreaded the job, assured the captain that the wind would fall as the moon arose. Yet, when the dim orb appeared above the thick, low-drifting scud, the gale _increased_. The light rather hinted than revealed the frightful scene around that egg-shell on the lashed and furious sea. Each wave swept over us, but our buoyant craft rose on the succeeding swell, and cleft its crest with her knife-like prow. It was now too late to attempt bringing her to the wind; still it became more urgent to do something to prevent us from being submerged by the huge seas, which came thundering after us like avalanches on our quarters. The perilous dilemma of our doubtful captain and his dainty mate, may be easily imagined. Every body had an opinion, and of course they vied with each other in absurdity;--at last some one proposed to cut away the foresail, and bring her to the wind under bare poles. I was "conning" the schooner when this insane scheme was broached, and fearing that the captain might adopt it, I leaped on the hatch, after calling the boatswain to my place, and assured the crew that if they severed the sail, we would lose command of the vessel, so that with impaired headway, the next wave that struck her would show her keel to the skies and her dock to the fishes. I exhorted them to drive her _faster_ if possible rather than stop. To turn out the "balance reef," I said, was our only salvation;--and I alleged that I had seen a vessel saved before in precisely the same way. Cowards, with death clutching their throats, were soon convinced by a man of nerve. I availed myself of the instantaneous silence that followed my act, and before the captain could think or speak, I leaped to the boom with my sharp knife, cutting the reef-points slowly and carefully, so as not to allow the foresail to be inflated and torn by a single blast. My judgment was correct. Our increased canvas immediately sent us skimming over the waves; the rollers no longer combed dangerously over our quarter; we scudded steadily throughout the remnant of the gale; and, next night, at sundown, we rested on a quiet, lake-like ocean, taughtening the strained rigging, and priding ourselves mightily on the hazards we encountered and overcame. The Minorcan skipper was satisfied that no man ever before performed so daring an exploit. He was, moreover, convinced, that no one but himself could have carried the schooner through so frightful a storm, or would have invented the noble expedient of driving instead of stripping her! From this hour all semblance of regular discipline was abandoned. Sailors, who are suffered to tread the quarter-deck familiarly and offer their opinions, never get over the permitted freedom. Our ragamuffins of the Areostatico could never abide the idea that the youngest seaman aboard,--and he, too, a _foreigner_,--should have proved the best sailor. The skilful performance of my duty was the source of a rankling grudge. As I would not mix with the scamps, they called me arrogant. My orders were negligently obeyed; and, in fact, every thing in the schooner became as comfortless as possible. Forty-one days, however, brought us to the end of our voyage at the mouth of the Rio Pongo. No one being acquainted with the river's entrance or navigation, the captain and four hands went ashore for a pilot, who came off in the afternoon, while our master ascended in a boat to the slave-factory at Bangalang. Four o'clock found us entering the Rio Pongo, with tide and wind in our favor, so that before the sun sank into the Atlantic Ocean we were safe at our anchorage below the settlement. While we were slowly drifting between the river banks, and watching the gorgeous vegetation of Africa, which, that evening, first burst upon my sight, I fell into a chat with the native pilot, who had been in the United States, and spoke English remarkably well. Berak very soon inquired whether there was any one else on board who spoke the language besides myself, and when told that the cabin-boy alone knew it, he whispered a story which, in truth, I was not in the least surprised to hear. That afternoon one of our crew had attempted the captain's life, while on shore, by snapping a carabine behind his back! Our pilot learned the fact from a native who followed the party from the landing, along the beach; and its truth was confirmed, in his belief, by the significant boasts made by the _tallest_ of the boatmen who accompanied him on board. He was satisfied that the entire gang contemplated our schooner's seizure. The pilot's story corroborated some hints I received from our cook during the voyage. It struck me instantly, that if a crime like this were really designed, no opportunity for its execution could be more propitious than the present. I determined, therefore, to omit no precaution that might save the vessel and the lives of her honest officers. On examining the carabines brought back from shore, which I had hurriedly thrown into the arm-chest on deck, I found that the lock of this armory had been forced, and several pistols and cutlasses abstracted. Preparations had undoubtedly been made to assassinate us. As night drew on, my judgment, as well as _nervousness_, convinced me that the darkness would not pass without a murderous attempt. There was an unusual silence. On reaching port, there is commonly fun and merriment among crews; but the usual song and invariable guitar were omitted from the evening's entertainment. I searched the deck carefully, yet but two mariners were found above the hatches apparently asleep. Inasmuch as I was only a subordinate officer, I could not command, nor had I any confidence in the nerve or judgment of the chief mate, if I trusted my information to him. Still I deemed it a duty to tell him the story, as well as my discovery about the missing arms. Accordingly, I called the first officer, boatswain, and cook, as quietly as possible, into the cabin; leaving our English cabin-boy to watch in the companion way. Here I imparted our danger, and asked their assistance in _striking the first blow_. My plan was to secure the crew, and give them battle. The mate, as I expected, shrank like a girl, declining any step till the captain returned. The cook and boatswain, however, silently approved my movement; so that we counselled our cowardly comrade to remain below, while we assumed the responsibility and risk of the enterprise. It may have been rather rash, but I resolved to begin the rescue, by shooting down, like a dog and without a word, the notorious Cuban convict who had attempted the captain's life. This, I thought, would strike panic into the mutineers; and end the mutiny in the most bloodless way. Drawing a pair of large horse-pistols from beneath the captain's pillow, and examining the load, I ordered the cook and boatswain to follow me to the deck. But the craven officer would not quit his hold on my person. He besought me not to commit murder. He clung to me with the panting fear and grasp of a woman. He begged me, with every term of endearment, to desist; and, in the midst of my scuffle to throw him off, one of the pistols accidentally exploded. A moment after, my vigilant watch-boy screamed from the starboard, a warning "look-out!" and, peering forward in the blinding darkness as I emerged from the lighted cabin, I beheld the stalwart form of the ringleader, brandishing a cutlass within a stride of me. I aimed and fired. We both fell; the mutineer with two balls in his abdomen, and I from the recoil of an over-charged pistol. My face was cut, and my eye injured by the concussion; but as neither combatant was deprived of consciousness, in a moment we were both on our feet. The Spanish felon, however, pressed his hand on his bowels, and rushed forward exclaiming he was slain; but, in his descent to the forecastle, he was stabbed in the shoulder with a bayonet by the boatswain, whose vigorous blow drove the weapon with such tremendous force that it could hardly be withdrawn from the scoundrel's carcass. I said I was up in a minute; and, feeling my face with my hand, I perceived a quantity of blood on my cheek, around which I hastily tied a handkerchief, below my eyes. I then rushed to the arm-chest. At that moment, the crack of a pistol, and a sharp, boyish cry, told me that my pet was wounded beside me. I laid him behind the hatchway, and returned to the charge. By this time I was blind with rage, and fought, it seems, like a _madman_. I confess that I have no personal recollection whatever of the following events, and only learned them from the subsequent report of the cook and boatswain. I stood, they said, over the arm-chest like one spell-bound. My eyes were fixed on the forecastle; and, as head after head loomed out of the darkness above the hatch, I discharged carabine after carabine at the mark. Every thing that moved fell by my aim. As I fired the weapons, I flung them away to grasp fresh ones: and, when the battle was over, the cook aroused me from my mad stupor, still groping wildly for arms in the emptied chest. As the smoke cleared off, the fore part of our schooner seemed utterly deserted: yet we found two men dead, one in mortal agony on the deck, while the ringleader and a colleague were gasping in the forecastle. Six pistols had been fired against us from forward; but, strange to say, the only efficient ball was the one that struck my English boy's leg. When I came to my senses, my first quest was for the gallant boatswain, who, being unarmed on the forecastle when the unexpected discharge took place, and seeing no chance of escape from my murderous carabines, took refuge over the bows. Our cabin-boy was soon quieted. The mutineers needed but little care for their hopeless wounds, while the felon chief, like all such wretches, died in an agony of despicable fear, shrieking for pardon. My shriving of his sins was a speedy rite! Such was my _first_ night in Africa! CHAPTER VII. There are casual readers who may consider the scene described in the last chapter unnatural. It may be said that a youth, whose life had been chequered by trials and disasters, but who preserved a pure sensibility throughout them, is sadly distorted when portrayed as expanding, at a leap, into a desperado. I have but little to say in reply to these objections, save that _the occurrences are perfectly true as stated_, and, moreover, that I am satisfied they were only the natural developments of my character. From my earliest years I have adored nobility of soul, and detested dishonor and treachery. I have passed through scenes which will be hereafter told, that the world may qualify by harsh names; yet I have striven to conduct myself throughout them, not only with the ideas of fairness current among reckless men, but with the truth that, under all circumstances, characterizes an honorable nature. Now, the tragedy of my first night on the Rio Pongo was my transition from pupilage to responsible independence. I do not allege in a boastful spirit that I was a man of courage; because courage, or the want of it, are things for which a person is no more responsible than he is for the possession or lack of physical strength. I was, moreover, always a man of what I may style _self-possessed passion_. I was endowed with something more than cool energy; or, rather, cool energy was heightened and sublimated by the fire of an ardent nature. Hitherto, I had been tempered down by the habitual obedience to which I was subjected as a sailor under lawful discipline. But the events of the last six months, and especially the gross relaxation on the voyage to Africa, the risks we had run in navigating the vessel, and the outlaws that surrounded me, not only kept my mind for ever on the alert, but aroused my dormant nature to a full sense of duty and self-protection. Is it unnatural, then, for a man whose heart and nerves have been laid bare for months, to quiver with agony and respond with headlong violence, when imperilled character, property and life, hang upon the fiat of his courageous promptitude? The doubters may cavil over the philosophy, but I think I may remain content with the fact. _I did my duty_--dreadful as it was. Let me draw a veil over our gory decks when the gorgeous sun of Africa shot his first rays through the magnificent trees and herbage that hemmed the placid river. Five bodies were cast into the stream, and the traces of the tragedy obliterated as well as possible. The recreant mate, who plunged into the cabin at the report of the first pistol from the forecastle, reappeared with haggard looks and trembling frame, to protest that _he_ had no hand in what he called "the murder." The cook, boatswain, and African pilot, recounted the whole transaction to the master, who inserted it in the log-book, and caused me to sign the narrative with unimplicated witnesses. Then the wound of the cabin-boy was examined and found to be trifling, while mine, though not painful, was thought to imperil my sight. The flint lock of a rebounding pistol had inflicted three gashes, just beneath the eye on my cheek. There was but little appetite for breakfast that day. After the story was told and recorded, we went sadly to work unmooring the vessel, bringing her slowly like a hearse to an anchorage in front of Bangalang, the residence and factory of Mr. Ormond, better known by the country-name of "Mongo John." This personage came on board early in the morning with our returned captain, and promised to send a native doctor to cure both my eye and the boy's leg, making me pledge him a visit as soon as the vessel's duties would permit. That evening the specie was landed, and the schooner left in my charge by the master, with orders to strip, repair, and provide for the voyage home. Before night, Mongo John fulfilled his promise of a physician, who came on board with his prescription,--not in his pocket, but by his side! He ordered my torn cheek to be bathed, every half-hour, _with human milk fresh from the breast_; and, in order to secure a prompt, pure, and plentiful supply, a stout negress and her infant were sent, with orders to remain as long as her lacteal services might be required! I cannot say whether nature or the remedy healed my wound, but in a short time the flesh cicatrized, and all symptoms of inflammation disappeared entirely. It required ten days to put the Areostatico in ship-shape and supply her with wood and water. Provisions had been brought from Havana, so that it was only necessary we should stow them in an accessible manner. As our schooner was extremely small, we possessed no slave-deck; accordingly, mats were spread over the fire-wood which filled the interstices of the water-casks, in order to make an even surface for our cargo's repose. When my tiresome task was done, I went ashore--almost for the first time--to report progress to the master; but he was still unprepared to embark his living freight. Large sums, far in advance of the usual market, were offered by him for a cargo of _boys_; still we were delayed full twenty days longer than our contract required before a supply reached Bangalang. As I had promised _Mongo John_, or John the Chief, to visit his factory, I took this opportunity to fulfil my pledge. He received me with elaborate politeness; showed me his town, barracoons, and stores, and even stretched a point, to honor me by an introduction to the _penetralia_ of his _harem_. The visit paid, he insisted that I should dine with him; and a couple of choice bottles were quickly disposed of. Ormond, like myself, had been a sailor. We spoke of the lands, scenes, and adventures, each had passed through, while a fresh bottle was called to fillip our memories. There is nothing so nourishing to friendship as wine! Before sundown our electric memories had circled the globe, and our intimacy culminated. While the rosy fluid operated as a sedative on the Mongo, and glued him to his chair in a comfortable nap, it had a contrary effect on my exhilarated nerves. I strolled to the verandah to get a breath of fresh air from the river, but soon dashed off in the darkness to the sacred precincts of the _harem_! I was not detected till I reached nearly the centre of the sanctuary where Ormond confined his motley group of black, mulatto, and quarteroon wives. The first dame who perceived me was a bright mulatto, with rosy checks, sloe-like eyes, coquettish turban, and most voluptuous mouth, whom I afterwards discovered to be second in the chief's affections. In an instant the court resounded with a chattering call to her companions, so that, before I could turn, the whole band of gabbling parrots hemmed me in with a deluge of talk. Fame had preceded me! My sable nurse was a servant of the harem, and her visit to the schooner, with the tale of the tragedy, supplied anecdotes for a lifetime. Every body was on the _qui vive_ to see the "white fighter." Every body was crazy to feel the "white skin" she had healed. Then, with a sudden, childish freak of caprice, they ran off from me as if afraid, and at once rushed back again like a flock of glib-tongued and playful monkeys. I could not comprehend a word they said; but the bevy squealed with quite as much pleasure as if I did, and peered into my eyes for answers, with impish devilry at my wondering ignorance. At last, my sable friends seemed not only anxious to amuse themselves but to do something for my entertainment also. A chatter in a corner settled what it should be. Two or three brought sticks, while two or three brought coals. A fire was quickly kindled in the centre of the court; and as its flames lit up the area, a whirling circle of half-stripped girls danced to the monotonous beat of a _tom-tom_. Presently, the formal ring was broken, and each female stepping out singly, danced according to her individual fancy. Some were wild, some were soft, some were tame, and some were fiery. After so many years I have no distinct recollection of the characteristic movements of these semi-savages, especially as the claret and champagne rather fermented in my brain, and possessed me with the idea that it was my duty to mingle in the bounding throng. I resolved that the barbarians should have a taste of Italian quality! Accordingly, I leaped from the hammock where I had swung idly during the scene, and, beginning with a _balancez_ and an _avant-deux_, terminated my terpsichorean exhibition by a regular "double shuffle" and sailor's hornpipe. The delirious laughter, cracked sides, rollicking fun, and outrageous merriment, with which my feats were received, are unimaginable by sober-sided people. Tired of my single exhibition, I seized the prettiest of the group by her slim, shining waist, and whirled her round and round the court in the quickest of waltzes, until, with a kiss, I laid her giddy and panting on the floor. Then, grasping another,--another,--another,--and another,--and treating each to the same dizzy swim, I was about waltzing the whole _seraglio_ into quiescence, when who should rise before us but the staring and yawning _Mongo_! The apparition sobered me. A quarteroon pet of Ormond,--just spinning into fashionable and luscious insensibility,--fell from my arms into those of her master; and while I apologized for the freak, I charged it altogether to the witchcraft of his wit and wine. "Ha!" said the Mongo, "St. Vitus is in your Italian heels the moment you are within hail of music and dancing; and, by Jove, it seems you can scent a petticoat as readily as a hound tracks runaways. But there's no harm in _dancing_, Don Téodore; only hereafter I hope you will enjoy the amusement in a less uproarious manner. In Africa we are fond of a _siesta_ after dinner; and I recommend you to get, as soon as possible, under the lee of another bottle." We retired once more to his mahogany; and, under the spell of my chieftain's claret and sea-yarns, I was soon lapped in delicious sleep. * * * * * Next day the captain of the Areostatico drew me aside confidentially, and hinted that Ormond had taken such a decided fancy for me, and _insinuated_ so warm a wish for my continuance _as his clerk_ at Bangalang, that he thought it quite a duty, though a sad one, to give his advice on the subject. "It may be well for your purse, Don Téodore, to stay with so powerful a trader; but beside the improvement of your fortunes, there are doubts whether it will be _wholesome_ for you to revisit Havana, at least at present. It may be said, _amigo mio_, that you _commenced_ the warfare on board the schooner;--and as five men were slain in the affray, it will be necessary for me to report the fact to the _commandante_ as soon as I arrive. Now it is true, _hijo mio_, that you saved the vessel, cargo, specie, and my cousin; yet, God knows what may be the result of Havana justice. You will have a rigid examination, and I rather think you will be _imprisoned_ until the final decision is made. When that consummation shall occur is quite uncertain. If you have friends, they will be bled as long as possible before you get out; if you have none, no one will take pains to see you released without recompense. When you see daylight once more, the rest of these ragamuffins and the felon friends of the dead men, will begin to dog your steps, and make Havana uncomfortable as well as dangerous; so that I have no hesitation in recommending you to stay where you are, and take the doubloons of the Mongo." I thought I saw at a glance the drift of this hypocritical _fanfaronade_, and was satisfied he only desired to get rid of me in order to reinstate the chief mate in a situation which he surely could not occupy as long as I was on board. As I meant to stay in Africa, I told him at once that I grieved because he had not spoken his wishes openly, boldly, and honestly, like a man, but had masked an ungrateful cowardice by hypocritical solicitude for my welfare. I departed abruptly with a scowl of contempt; and as he hastened to hide his blanched face in the cabin, I called a boat, and throwing my sea chest, bedding, and arms, aboard, committed my fate to the African continent. _A half-hour turned and decided my fate!_ Mr. Ormond received me very cordially, and, installing me in my new secretaryship, promised a private establishment, a seat at his table, and a negro per month,--or its value at the rate of forty dollars,--for my services. When the runners returned from the interior with the slaves required to complete the Areostatico's cargo, I considered it my duty to the Italian grocer of Regla to dispatch his vessel personally. Accordingly, I returned on board to aid in stowing _one hundred and eight boys and girls, the eldest of whom did not exceed fifteen years_! As I crawled between decks, I confess I could not imagine how this little army was to be packed or draw breath in a hold but _twenty-two inches high_! Yet the experiment was promptly made, inasmuch as it was necessary to secure them below in descending the river, in order to prevent their leaping overboard and swimming ashore. I found it impossible to adjust the whole in a sitting posture; but we made them lie down in each other's laps, like _sardines_ in a can, and in this way obtained space for the entire cargo. Strange to tell, when the Areostatico reached Havana, but _three_ of these "passengers" had paid the debt of nature. As I left the schooner a few miles outside the bar, I crossed her side without an adieu save for the English cabin-boy, whose fate I was pained to intrust to these stupid Spaniards. Indeed, the youth almost belonged to me, for I may say he owed his life to my interference. Previous to the voyage, while waiting in the harbor of Havana for a crew, our vessel was anchored near the wharves, next to an English merchantman. One afternoon I heard a scream from the neighboring craft, and perceived a boy rush from the cabin with his face dyed in blood. He was instantly pursued by a burly seaman, inflicting blows with his fist. I implored the brute to desist, but my interference seemed to augment his choler to such a degree, that he seized a handspike to knock the stripling down. Upon this I called the child to leap overboard, at the same time commanding a hand to lower my boat and scull in the direction of his fall. The boy obeyed my voice; and in a few minutes I had him on board blessing me for his safety. But the drunken Briton vented his rage in the most indecent language; and had his boat been aboard, I doubt not a summary visit would have terminated in a fight on my deck. However, as good luck would have it, his skiff was at the landing, so that there was ample time, before he could reach the Areostatico, to tie up the bruised face and broken rib of the child, and to conceal him in the house of a Spanish crone in Havana, who cured the maladies of credulous seamen by witchcraft! After nightfall the master of the British vessel came aboard to claim his boy; but as he was petulant and seemed disposed to carry matters with a high hand, my temper rose in resistance, and I refused to release the child until he sealed with an oath his promise to treat him better in future. But the cruel scoundrel insisted on _unconditional_ surrender; and to end the controversy, I was compelled to order him off the schooner. British pluck of course would not allow a captain to be deprived so easily of his property, so the British consul was invoked to appeal to the captain of the port. This personage summoned me before him, and listened calmly to a story which added no honor to English mariners. In my last interview with the boy he implored my continued protection and concealment; so that when the Spanish official declared--notwithstanding the officer's conduct--that the vessel was entitled to her crew, and that I must surrender the child, I excused myself from complying by pleading utter ignorance of his whereabout. In view of this contingency, I directed the woman to hide him in a place of which I should be ignorant. So I told no lie, and saved the boy from his tyrant. The inquiry was dropped at this stage of proceedings. When the British vessel sailed a few days after, I caused the youth to be brought from his concealment; and, with our captain's consent, brought him aboard to serve in our cabin. I have narrated this little episode in consequence of my love for the boy, and because _he was the only English subject I ever knew to ship in a slaver_. I requested the Areostatico's owners to pay him liberally for his fidelity when he got back to Havana; and I was happy to learn next year, that they not only complied with my request, but sent him home to his friends in Liverpool. CHAPTER VIII. When I got back to Bangalang, my first movement was to take possession of the quarters assigned me by the Mongo, and to make myself as comfortable as possible in a land whose chief requirements are shade and shelter. My house, built of cane plastered with mud, consisted of two earthen-floored rooms and a broad verandah. The thatched roof was rather leaky, while my furniture comprised two arm-chests covered with mats, a deal table, a bamboo settle, a tin-pan with palm-oil for a lamp, and a German looking-glass mounted in a paper frame. I augmented these comforts by the addition of a trunk, mattress, hammock and pair of blankets; yet, after all this embellishment, I confess my household was rather a sorry affair. It is time I should make the reader acquainted with the individual who was the presiding genius of the scene, and, in some degree, a type of his peculiar class in Africa. Mr. Ormond was the son of an opulent slave-trader from Liverpool, and owed his birth to the daughter of a native chief on the Rio Pongo. His father seems to have been rather proud of his mulatto stripling, and dispatched him to England to be educated. But Master John had made little progress in belles-lettres, when news of the trader's death was brought to the British agent, who refused the youth further supplies of money. The poor boy soon became an outcast in a land which had not yet become fashionably addicted to philanthropy; and, after drifting about awhile in England, he shipped on board a merchantman. The press-gang soon got possession of the likely mulatto for the service of his Britannic Majesty. Sometimes he played the part of dandy waiter in the cabin; sometimes he swung a hammock with the hands in the forecastle. Thus, five years slipped by, during which the wanderer visited most of the West Indian and Mediterranean stations. At length the prolonged cruise was terminated, and Ormond paid off. He immediately determined to employ his hoarded cash in a voyage to Africa, where he might claim his father's property. The project was executed; his mother was still found alive; and, fortunately for the manly youth, she recognized him at once as her first-born. The reader will recollect that these things occurred on the west coast of Africa in the early part of the present century, and that the tenure of property, and the interests of foreign traders, were controlled entirely by such _customary_ laws as prevailed on the spot. Accordingly, a "grand palaver" was appointed, and all Mr. Ormond's brothers, sisters, uncles, and cousins,--many of whom were in possession of his father's slaves or their descendants,--were summoned to attend. The "talk" took plate at the appointed time. The African mother stood forth stanchly to assert the identity and rights of her first-born, and, in the end, all of the Liverpool trader's property, in houses, lands, and negroes, that could be ascertained, was handed over, according to coast-law, to the returned heir. When the mulatto youth was thus suddenly elevated into comfort, if not opulence, in his own country, he resolved to augment his wealth by pursuing his father's business. But the whole country was then desolated by a civil war, occasioned, as most of them are, by family disputes, which it was necessary to terminate before trade could be comfortably established. To this task Ormond steadfastly devoted his first year. His efforts were seconded by the opportune death of one of the warring chiefs. A tame opponent,--a brother of Ormond's mother,--was quickly brought to terms by a trifling present; so that the sailor boy soon concentrated the family influence, and declared himself "MONGO," or, Chief of the River. Bangalang had long been a noted factory among the English traders. When war was over, Ormond selected this post as his permanent residence, while he sent runners to Sierra Leone and Goree with notice that he would shortly be prepared with ample cargoes. Trade, which had been so long interrupted by hostilities, poured from the interior. Vessels from Goree and Sierra Leone were seen in the offing, responding to his invitation. His stores were packed with British, French, and American fabrics; while hides, wax, palm-oil, ivory, gold, and slaves, were the native products for which Spaniards and Portuguese hurried to proffer their doubloons and bills. It will be readily conjectured that a very few years sufficed to make Jack Ormond not only a wealthy merchant, but a popular Mongo among the great interior tribes of Foulahs and Mandingoes. The petty chiefs, whose territory bordered the sea, flattered him with the title of king; and, knowing his _Mormon taste_, stocked his _harem_ with their choicest children as the most valuable tokens of friendship and fidelity. When I was summoned to act as secretary or clerk of such a personage, I saw immediately that it would be well not only to understand my duties promptly, but to possess a clear estimate of the property I was to administer and account for. Ormond's easy habits satisfied me that he was not a man of business originally, or had become sadly negligent under the debasing influence of wealth and voluptuousness. My earliest task, therefore, was to make out a _minute inventory_ of his possessions, while I kept a watchful eye on his stores, never allowing any one to enter them unattended. When I presented this document, which exhibited a large deficiency, the Mongo received it with indifference, begging me not to "annoy him with accounts." His manner indicated so much petulant fretfulness, that I augured from it the conscious decline or disorder of his affairs. As I was returning to the warehouse from this mortifying interview, I encountered an ancient hag,--a sort of superintendent Cerberus or manager of the Mongo's _harem_,--who, by signs, intimated that she wanted the key to the "cloth-chest," whence she immediately helped herself to several fathoms of calico. The crone could not speak English, and, as I did not understand the Soosoo dialect, we attempted no oral argument about the propriety of her conduct; but, taking a pencil and paper, and making signs that she should go to the Mongo, who would write an order for the raiment, I led her quietly to the door. The wrath of the virago was instantly kindled, while her horrid face gleamed with that devilish ferocity, which, in some degree is lost by Africans who dwell on our continent. During the reign of my predecessors, it seems that she had been allowed to control the store keys, and to help herself unstintedly. I knew not, of course, what she _said_ on this occasion; but the violence of her gestures, the nervous spasms of her limbs, the flashing of her eyes, the scream of her voluble tongue, gave token that she swelled with a rage which was augmented by my imperturbable quietness. At dinner, I apprised Mr. Ormond of the negro's conduct; but he received the announcement with the same laugh of indifference that greeted the account of his deficient inventory. That night I had just stretched myself on my hard pallet, and was revolving the difficulties of my position with some degree of pain at my forced continuance in Africa, when my servant tapped softly at the door, and announced that some one demanded admittance, but begged that I would first of all extinguish the light. I was in a country requiring caution; so I felt my pistols before I undid the latch. It was a bright, star-light night; and, as I opened the door sufficiently to obtain a glance beyond,--still maintaining my control of the aperture,--I perceived the figure of a female, wrapped in cotton cloth from head to foot, except the face, which I recollected as that of the beautiful _quarteroon_ I was whirling in the waltz, when surprised by the Mongo. She put forth her hands from the folds of her garment, and laying one softly on my arm, while she touched her lips with the other, looked wistfully behind, and glided into my apartment. This poor girl, the child of a mulatto mother and a white parent, was born in the settlement of Sierra Leone, and had acquired our language with much more fluency than is common among her race. It was said that her father had been originally a missionary from Great Britain, but abandoned his profession for the more lucrative traffic in slaves, to which he owed an abundant fortune. It is probable that the early ecclesiastical turn of her delinquent progenitor induced him, before he departed for America, to bestow on his child the biblical name of ESTHER. I led my trembling visitor to the arm-chest, and, seating her gently by my side, inquired why I was favored by so stealthy a visit from the _harem_. My suspicions were aroused; for, though a novice in Africa, I knew enough of the discipline maintained in these slave factories, not to allow my fancy to seduce me with the idea that her visit was owing to mad-cap sentimentality. The manner of these _quarteroon_ girls, whose complexion hardly separates them from our own race, is most winningly graceful; and Esther, with abated breath, timidly asked my pardon for intruding, while she declared I had made so bitter an enemy of Unga-golah,--the head-woman of the seraglio,--that, in spite of danger, she stole to my quarters with a warning. Unga swore revenge. I had insulted and thwarted her; I was able to thwart her at all times, if I remained the Mongo's "book-man;"--I must soon "go to another country;" but, if I did not, I would quickly find the food of Bangalang excessively unwholesome! "Never eat any thing that a Mandingo offers you," said Esther. "Take your meals exclusively from the Mongo's table. Unga-golah knows all the Mandingo _jujus_, and she will have no scruple in using them in order to secure once more the control of the store keys. Good night!" With this she rose to depart, begging me to be silent about her visit, and to believe that a poor slave could feel true kindness for a white man, or even expose herself to save him. If an unruly passion had tugged at my heartstrings, the soft appeal, the liquid tones, the tenderness of this girl's humanity, would have extinguished it in an instant. It was the first time for many a long and desolate mouth that I had experienced the gentle touch of a woman's hand, or felt the interest of mortal solicitude fall like a refreshing dew upon my heart! Who will censure me for halting on my door-sill as I led her forth, retaining her little hand in mine, while I cast my eyes over the lithe symmetry of those slender and rounded limbs; while I feasted on the flushed magnolia of those beautiful cheeks, twined my fingers in the trailing braids of that raven hair, peered into the blackness of those large and swimming orbs, felt a tear trickle down my hardening face, and left, on those coral lips, the print of a kiss that was fuller of gratitude than passion! * * * * * Nowadays that Mormonism is grafting a "celestial wifery" upon the civilization of the nineteenth century, I do not think it amiss to recall the memory of those African establishments which formed so large a portion of a trader's homestead. It is not to be supposed that the luxurious _harem_ of Turkey or Egypt was transferred to the Guinea coast, or that its lofty walls were barricaded by stout gates, guarded by troops of sable eunuchs. The "wifery" of my employer was a bare inclosure, formed by a quadrangular cluster of mud-houses, the entrance to whose court-yard was never watched save at night. Unga-golah, the eldest and least delectable of the dames, maintained the establishment's police, assigned gifts or servants to each female, and distributed her master's favors according to the bribes she was cajoled by. In early life and during his gorged prosperity, Ormond,--a stout, burly, black-eyed, broad-shouldered, short-necked man,--ruled his _harem_ with the rigid decorum of the East. But as age and misfortunes stole over the sensual voluptuary, his mental and bodily vigor became impaired, not only by excessive drink, but by the narcotics to which he habitually resorted for excitement. When I became acquainted with him, his face and figure bore the marks of a worn-out _debauché_. His harem now was a fashion of the country rather than a domestic resort. His wives ridiculed him, or amused themselves as they pleased. I learned from Esther that there was hardly one who did not "flirt" with a lover in Bangalang, and that Unga-golah was blinded by gifts, while the stupor of the Mongo was perpetuated by liquor. It may be supposed that in such a _seraglio_, and with such a master, there were but few matrimonial jealousies; still, as it would be difficult to find, even in our most Christian society, two females without some lurking bitterness towards rivals, so it is not to be imagined that the Mongo's mansion was free from womanly quarrels. These disputes chiefly occurred when Ormond distributed gifts of calico, beads, tobacco, pipes and looking-glasses. If the slightest preference or inequality was shown, adieu to order. Unga-golah descended below zero! The favorite wife, outraged by her neglected authority, became furious; and, for a season, pandemonium was let loose in Bangalang. One of these scenes of passion occurs to me as I write. I was in the store with the Mongo when an aggrieved dame, not remarkable either for delicacy of complexion or sweetness of odor, entered the room, and marching up with a swagger to her master, dashed a German looking-glass on the floor at his feet. She wanted a larger one, for the glass bestowed on her was half an inch smaller than the gifts to her companions. When Ormond was sober, his pride commonly restrained him from allowing the women to molest his leisure; so he quietly turned from the virago and ordered her out of the store. But my lady was not to be appeased by dignity like this. "Ha!" shrieked the termagant, as she wrenched off her handkerchief. "Ha!" yelled she, tearing off one sleeve, and then the other. "Ha!" screamed the fiend, kicking a shoe into one corner, and the other shoe into another corner. "Ha! Mongo!" roared the beldame, as she stripped every garment from her body and stood absolutely _naked_ before us, slapping her wool, cheeks, forehead, breasts, arms, stomach and limbs, and appealing to Ormond to say where she was deficient in charms, that she should be slighted half an inch on a looking-glass? As the Mongo was silent, she strode up to me for an opinion; but, scarlet with blushes, I dived behind the cloth-chest, and left the laughing Ormond to gratify the whim of the "_model artiste_." Years afterwards, I remember seeing an infuriate Ethiopian fling her infant into the fire because its white father preferred the child of another spouse. Indeed, I was glad my station at Bangalang did not make it needful for the preservation of my respectability that I should indulge in the luxury of _African matrimony_! * * * * * But these exhibitions of jealous passion were not excited alone by the unequal distribution of presents from the liege lord of Bangalang. I have observed that Ormond's wives took advantage of his carelessness and age, to seek congenial companionship outside the _harem_. Sometimes the preference of two of these sable _belles_ alighted on the same lover, and then the battle was transferred from a worthless looking-glass to the darling _beau_. When such a quarrel arose, a meeting between the rivals was arranged out of the Mongo's hearing; when, throwing off their waist-cloths, the controversy was settled between the female gladiators without much damage. But, now and then, the matter was not left to the ladies. The sable lovers themselves took up the conflict, and a regular challenge passed between the gay Othellos. At the appointed time, the duellists appeared upon "the field of honor" accompanied by friends who were to witness their victory or sympathize in their defeat. Each stalwart savage leaped into the arena, armed with a cow-hide cat, whose sharp and triple thongs were capable of inflicting the harshest blows. They stripped, and tossed three _cowries_ into the air to determine which of the two should receive the first lashing. The unfortunate loser immediately took his stand, and received, with the firmness of a martyr, the allotted number of blows. Then came the turn of the whipper, who, with equal constancy, offered his back to the scourge of the enraged sufferer. Thus they alternated until one gave in, or until the bystanders decreed victory to him who bore the punishment longest without wincing. The flayed backs of these "chivalrous men of honor" were ever after displayed in token of bravery; and, doubtless, their Dulcineas devoted to their healing the subtlest ointment and tenderest affection recognized among Africans. CHAPTER IX. My business habits and systematic devotion to the Mongo's interests soon made me familiar with the broad features of "country trade;" but as I was still unable to speak the coast dialects, Mr. Ormond--who rarely entered the warehouse or conversed about commerce--supplied an adroit interpreter, who stood beside me and assisted in the retail of foreign merchandise, for rice, ivory, palm-oil, and domestic provisions. The purchase of slaves and gold was conducted exclusively by the Mongo, who did not consider me sufficiently initiated in native character and tricks to receive so delicate a trust. * * * * * Long and dreary were the days and nights of the apparently interminable "wet season." Rain in a city, rain in the country, rain in a village, rain at sea, are sufficiently wearying, even to those whose mental activity is amused or occupied by books or the concerns of life; but who can comprehend the insufferable lassitude and despondency that overwhelm an African resident, as he lies on his mat-covered arm-chest, and listens to the endless deluge pouring for days, weeks, months, upon his leaky thatch? At last, however, the season of rain passed by, and the "dry season" set in. This was the epoch for the arrival of caravans from the interior; so that we were not surprised when our runners appeared, with news that AHMAH-DE-BELLAH, son of a noted Fullah chief, was about to visit the Rio Pongo with an imposing train of followers and merchandise. The only means of communication with the interior of Africa are, for short distances, by rivers, and, for longer ones, by "paths" or "trails" leading through the dense forest and among the hills, to innumerable "towns" that stud this prolific land. Stephenson and McAdam have not been to Africa, and there are neither turnpikes nor railways. Now, when the coast-traders of the west are apprised that caravans are threading their way towards the Atlantic shores, it is always thought advisable to make suitable preparations for the chiefs, and especially to greet them by messages, before their arrival at the beach. Accordingly, "_barkers_" are sent forth on the forest "paths" to welcome the visitors with gifts of tobacco and powder. "_Barkers_" are colored gentlemen, with fluent tongues and flexible consciences, always in the train of factories on the coast, who hasten to the wilderness at the first signal of a caravan's approach, and magnify the prosperity and merchandise of their patrons with as much zeal and veracity as the "drummers" of more Christian lands. A few days after our band of travelling agents had departed on their mission, the crack of fire-arms was heard from the hills in our rear, signifying that the Mongo's "_barkers_" had been successful with the caravan in tow. A prompt response to the joyous signal was made by our cannons; so that, after half an hour's firing, Ahmah-de-Bellah and his party emerged from the smoke, marshalled by our band of singers, who preceded him, chanting with loud voices the praise of the youthful chieftain. Behind the master came the principal traders and their slaves laden with produce, and followed by forty captive negroes, secured by bamboo withes. These were succeeded by three-score bullocks, a large flock of sheep or goats, and the females of the party; while the procession was closed by the demure tread of a tame and stately OSTRICH! It was the first time I had seen so odd an assemblage of beasts and humanity. Indeed, had the troupe been accompanied by a bevy of ourang-outangs, I confess I might, at times, have had difficulty in deciding the grade of animal life to which the object in front of me belonged. Mr. Ormond, when put upon his mettle, was one of the ablest traders in Africa, and received the Mahometan strangers with becoming state. He awaited Ahmah-de-Bellah and his committee of head-traders on the piazza of his receiving-house, which was a rather stately edifice, one hundred and fifty feet in length, built to be fire-proof for the protection of our stores. When each Fullah stranger was presented, he shook hands and "snapped fingers" with the Mongo several times; and, as every petty peddler in the train wanted to _salaam_, the "white man for good luck," the process of presentation occupied at least an hour. According to coast custom, as soon as these compliments were over, the caravan's merchandise was deposited within our walls, not only for security, but in order that we might gauge the _value of the welcome_ the owners were entitled to receive. This precaution, though ungallant, is extremely necessary, inasmuch as many of the interior dealers were in the habit of declaring, on arrival, the value of their gold and ivory to be much greater than it was in fact, in order to receive a more liberal "present." Even savages instinctively acquire the tricks of trade! When the goods were stored, a couple of fat bullocks, with an abundant supply of rice, were given to the visitors, and the chiefs of the caravan were billeted upon our townspeople. The _canaille_ built temporary huts for themselves in the outskirts; while Ahmah-de-Bellah, a strict Mahometan, accompanied by two of his wives, was furnished with a pair of neat houses that had been hastily fitted up with new and elegant mats.[A] While the merchandise of these large caravans is unpaid for, their owners, by the custom of the country, remain a costly burden upon the factories. We were naturally anxious to be free from this expense as soon as possible, and gave notice next morning that "trade would begin forthwith." Ahmah-de-Bellah, the chiefs of the caravans, and Mr. Ormond, at once entered into negotiations, so that by nightfall a bargain had been struck, not only for their presents, but for the price of merchandise, and the percentage to be retained as "native duty." Such a preliminary liquidation with _the heads_ of a caravan is ever indispensable, for, without their assistance, it would be out of the question to traffic with the ragamuffins who hang on the skirts of opulent chieftains. Each morning, at daylight, a crier went through the town, announcing the character of the specific trade which would be carried on during hours of business. One day it was in hides; another, rice; another, cattle. When these were disposed of, a time was specially appointed for the exchange of gold, ivory and slaves; and, at the agreed hour, Mr. Ormond, Ahmah-de-Bellah, and myself, locked the doors of the warehouse, and traded through a window, while our "barkers" distributed the goods to the Africans, often using their whips to keep the chattering and disputatious scamps in order. Ahmah-de-Bellah pretended to inspect the measurement of cloth, powder and tobacco, to insure justice to his compatriots; but, in reality, like a true tax-gatherer, he was busy ascertaining his lawful percentage on the sale, in return for the protection from robbery he gave the petty traders on their pilgrimage to the coast. At length the market was cleared of sellers and merchandise--except the ostrich, which, when all was over, reached the Mongo's hands as a royal gift from the Ali-Mami of Footha-Yallon, the pious father of Ahmah-de-Bellah. The bird, it is true, was presented as a free offering; yet it was hinted that the worthy Ali stood in need of reliable muskets, which his son would take charge of on the journey home. As twenty of those warlike instruments were dispatched by Ahmah-de-Bellah, the ostrich became rather a costly as well as characteristic gift. Each of the traders, moreover, expected a "bungee" or "dash" of some sort, in token of good will, and in proportion to his sales; so that we hastened to comply with all the common-law customs of the country, in order to liberate Bangalang from the annoying crowd. They dropped off rapidly as they were paid; and in a short time Ahmah-de-Bellah, his wives, and immediate followers, were all that remained of the seven hundred Fullahs. Ahmah-de-Bellah was a fine specimen of what may be considered "Young Africa," though he can hardly be classed among the progressives or revolutionary propagandists of the age. In person he was tall, graceful, and commanding. As the son of an important chief, he had been free from those menial toils which, in that climate, soon obliterate all intellectual characteristics. His face was well formed for an African's. His high and broad brow arched over a straight nose, while his lips had nothing of that vulgar grossness which gives so sensual an expression to his countrymen. Ahmah's manners to strangers or superiors were refined and courteous in a remarkable degree; but to the mob of the coast and inferiors generally, he manifested that harsh and peremptory tone which is common among the savages of a fiery clime. Ahmah-de-Bellah was second son of the Ali-Mami, or King of Footha-Yallon, who allowed him to exercise the prerogative of leading for the first time, a caravan to the seaboard, in honor of attaining the discreet age of "twenty four rainy seasons." The privilege however, was not granted without a view to profit by the courage of his own blood; for the Ali-Mami was never known to suffer a son or relative to depart from his jurisdiction without a promise of _half_ the products of the lucrative enterprise. The formation of a caravan, when the king's permission has been finally secured, is a work of time and skill. At the beginning of the "dry season," the privileged chieftain departs with power of life and death over his followers, and "squats" in one of the most frequented "paths" to the sea, while he dispatches small bands of daring retainers to other trails throughout the neighborhood, to blockade every passage to the beach. The siege of the highways is kept up with vigor for a month or more, by these black Rob Roys and Robin Hoods, until a sufficient number of traders may be trapped to constitute a valuable caravan, and give importance to its leader. While this is the main purpose of the forest adventure, the occasion is taken advantage of to collect a local tribute, due by small tribes to the Ali, which could not be obtained otherwise. The despotic officer, moreover, avails himself of the blockade to stop malefactors and absconding debtors. Goods that are seized in the possession of the latter may be sequestrated to pay his creditors; but if their value is not equal to the debt, the delinquent, if a pagan, is sold as a slave, but is let off with a _bastinado_, if he proves to be "one of the faithful." It is natural to suppose that every effort is made by the small traders of the interior to avoid these savage press-gangs. The poor wretches are not only subjected to annoying vassalage by ruffian princes, but the blockade of the forest often diverts them from the point they originally designed to reach,--forces them to towns or factories they had no intention of visiting,--and, by extreme delay, wastes their provisions and diminishes their frugal profits. It is surprising to see how admirably even savages understand and exercise the powers of sovereignty and the rights of transit! * * * * * While Ahmah-de-Bellah tarried at Bangalang, it was my habit to visit him every night to hear his interesting chat, as it was translated by an interpreter. Sometimes, in return, I would recount the adventures of my sea-faring life, which seemed to have a peculiar flavor for this child of the wilderness, who now gazed for the first time on the ocean. Among other things, I strove to convince him of the world's rotundity; but, to the last, he smiled incredulously at my daring assertion, and closed the argument by asking me to prove it from the Koran? He allowed me the honors due a traveller and "book-man;" but a mind that had swallowed, digested, and remembered every text of Mahomet's volume, was not to be deceived by such idle fantasies. He kindly undertook to conquer my ignorance of his creed by a careful exposition of its mysteries in several long-winded lectures, and I was so patient a listener, that I believe Ahmah was entirely satisfied of my conversion. My seeming acquiescence was well repaid by the Fullah's confidence. He returned my nightly calls with interest; and, visiting me in the warehouse during hours of business, became so fervently wrapped up in my spiritual salvation, that he would spout Mahometanism for hours through an interpreter. To get rid of him, one day, I promised to follow the Prophet with pleasure if he consented to receive me; but I insisted on entering the "fold of the faithful" _without_ submitting to the peculiar rite of Mussulman baptism! Ahmah-de-Bellah took the jest kindly, laughing like a good fellow, and from that day forward, we were sworn cronies. The Fullah at once wrote down a favorite prayer in Arabic, requiring as my spiritual guide, that I should commit it to memory for constant and ready use. After a day or two, he examined me in the ritual; but, finding I was at fault after the first sentence, reproached me pathetically upon my negligence and exhorted me to repentance,--much to the edification of our interpreter, who was neither Jew, Christian, nor Mussulman. But the visit of the young chieftain, which began in trade and tapered off in piety, drew to a close. Ahmah-de-Bellah began to prepare for his journey homeward. As the day of departure approached, I saw that my joke had been taken seriously by the Fullah, and that he _relied_ upon my apostasy. At the last moment, Ahmah tried to put me to a severe test, by suddenly producing the holy book, and requiring me to seal our friendship by an oath that I would never abandon Islamism. I contrived, however, adroitly to evade the affirmation by feigning an excessive anxiety to acquire more profound knowledge of the Koran, before I made so solemn a pledge. * * * * * It came to pass that, out of the forty slaves brought in the caravan, the Mongo rejected eight. After some altercation, Ahmah-de-Bellah consented to discard seven; but he insisted that the remaining veteran should be shipped, as he could neither _kill_ nor send him back to Footha-Yallon. I was somewhat curious to know the crime this culprit had committed, which was so heinous as to demand his perpetual exile, though it spared his life. The chief informed me that the wretch had slain his son; and, as there was no punishment for such an offence assigned by the Koran, the judges of his country condemned him to be sold _a slave to Christians_,--a penalty they considered worse than death. Another curious feature of African law was developed in the sale of this caravan. I noticed a couple of women drawn along with ropes around their necks, while others of their sex and class were suffered to wander about without bonds. These females, the chief apprised us, would have been burnt in his father's domains for witchcraft, had not his venerable ancestor been so much distressed for powder that he thought their lives would be more valuable to his treasury than their carcasses to outraged law. It was a general complaint among the companions of Ahmah-de-Bellah that the caravan was scant of slaves in consequence of this unfortunate lack of powder. The young chieftain promised better things in future. Next year, the Mongo's barracoons should teem with his conquests. When the "rainy season" approached, the Ali-Mami, his father, meant to carry on a "great war" against a variety of small tribes, whose captives would replenish the herds, that, two years before, had been carried off by a sudden blight. I learned from my intelligent Fullah, that while the Mahometan courts of his country rescued by law the people of their own faith from slavery, they omitted no occasion to inflict it, as a penalty, upon the African "unbelievers" who fell within their jurisdiction. Among these unfortunates, the smallest crime is considered capital, and a "capital crime" merits the profitable punishment of slavery. Nor was it difficult, he told me, for a country of "true believers" to acquire a multitude of bondsmen. They detested the institution, it is true, among themselves, and among their own caste, but it was both right and reputable among the unorthodox. The Koran commanded the "subjugation of the tribes to the true faith," so that, to enforce the Prophet's order against infidels, they resorted to the white man's cupidity, which authorized its votaries to enslave the negro! My inquisitiveness prompted me to demand whether these holy wars spoken of in the Koran were not somewhat stimulated, in our time, at least, by the profits that ensued; and I even ventured to hint that it was questionable whether the mighty chief of Footha-Yallon would willingly storm a Kaffir fortification, were he not prompted by the booty of slaves! Ahmah-de-Bellah was silent for a minute, when his solemn face gradually relaxed into a quizzical smile, as he replied that, in truth, Mahometans were no worse than Christians, so that it was quite likely,--if the white elect of heaven, who knew how to make powder and guns, did not tempt the black man with their weapons,--the commands of Allah would be followed with less zeal, and implements not quite so dangerous! I could not help thinking that there was a good deal of quiet satire in the gossip of this negro prince. According to the custom of his country, we "exchanged names" at parting; and, while he put in my pocket the gift of a well-thumbed _Koran_, I slung over his shoulder a _double-barrelled gun_. We walked side by side for some miles into the forest, as he went forth from Bangalang; and as we "cracked fingers" for farewell, I promised, with my hand on my heart, that the "next dry season" I would visit his father, the venerable Ali-Mami, in his realm of Footha-Yallon. FOOTNOTE: [A] As it may be interesting to learn the nature of trade on this coast,--_which is commonly misunderstood at consisting in slaves alone_,--I thought it well to set down the inventory I made out of the caravan's stock and its result, as the various items were intrusted to my guardianship. The body of the caravan itself consisted of seven hundred persons, principally men; while the produce was as follows: 3,500 hides $1,750 19 large and prime teeth of ivory, 1,560 Gold, 2,500 600 pounds small ivory, 320 15 tons of rice, 600 40 slaves, 1,600 36 bullocks, 360 Sheep, goats, butter, vegetables, 100 900 pounds bees-wax, 95 ------- Total value of the caravan's merchandise, $8,885 ------- Our profits on this speculation were very flattering, both as regards sales and acquisitions. Rice cost us one cent per pound; hides were delivered at eighteen or twenty cents each; a bullock was sold for twenty or thirty pounds of tobacco; sheep, goats or hogs, cost two pounds of tobacco, or a fathom of common cotton, each; ivory was purchased at the rate of a dollar the pound for the best, while inferior kinds were given at half that price. In fact, the profit on our merchandise was, at least, one hundred and fifty per cent. As gold commands the very best fabrics in exchange, and was paid for at the rate of sixteen dollars an ounce, we made but seventy per cent. on the article. The slaves were delivered at the rate of one hundred "_bars_" each. The "_bar_" is valued on the coast at half a dollar; but a pound and a half of tobacco is also a "bar," as well as a fathom of ordinary cotton cloth, or a pound of powder, while a common musket is equal to twelve "bars." Accordingly, where slaves were purchased for one hundred and fifty pounds of tobacco, only eighteen dollars were, in reality, paid; and when one hundred pounds of powder were given, we got them for twenty dollars each. Our _British_ muskets cost us but three dollars apiece; yet we seldom purchased negroes for this article alone. If the women, offered in the market, exceeded twenty-five years of age, we made a deduction of twenty per cent.; but if they were stanchly-built, and gave promising tokens for the future, we took them at the price of an able-bodied man. The same estimate was made for youths over four feet four inches high; but children were rarely purchased at the factories, though they might be advantageously traded in the native towns. CHAPTER X. I was a close watcher of Mongo John whenever he engaged in the purchase of slaves. As each negro was brought before him, Ormond examined the subject, without regard to sex, from head to foot. A careful manipulation of the chief muscles, joints, arm-pits and groins was made, to assure soundness. The mouth, too, was inspected, and if a tooth was missing, it was noted as a defect liable to deduction. Eyes, voice, lungs, fingers and toes were not forgotten; so that when the negro passed from the Mongo's hands without censure, he might have been readily adopted as a good "life" by an insurance company. Upon one occasion, to my great astonishment, I saw a stout and apparently powerful man discarded by Ormond as utterly worthless. His full muscles and sleek skin, to my unpractised eye, denoted the height of robust health. Still, I was told that he had been medicated for the market with bloating drugs, and sweated with powder and lemon-juice to impart a gloss to his skin. Ormond remarked that these jockey-tricks are as common in Africa as among horse-dealers in Christian lands; and desiring me to feel the negro's pulse, I immediately detected disease or excessive excitement. In a few days I found the poor wretch, abandoned by his owner, a paralyzed wreck in the hut of a villager at Bangalang. [Illustration: INSPECTION AND SALE OF A NEGRO.] When a slave becomes useless to his master in the interior, or exhibits signs of failing constitution, he is soon disposed of to a peddler or broker. These men call to their aid a quack, familiar with drugs, who, for a small compensation, undertakes to refit an impaired body for the temptation of green-horns. Sometimes the cheat is successfully effected; but experienced slavers detect it readily by the yellow eye, swollen tongue, and feverish skin. After a few more lessons, I was considered by the Mongo sufficiently learned in the slave traffic to be intrusted with the sole management of his stores. This exemption from commerce enabled him to indulge more than ever in the use of ardent spirits, though his vanity to be called "king," still prompted him to attend faithfully to all the "country palavers;"--and, let it be said to his credit, his decisions were never defective in judgment or impartiality. After I had been three months occupied in the multifarious intercourse of Bangalang and its neighborhood, I understood the language well enough to dispense with the interpreter, who was one of the Mongo's confidential agents. When my companion departed on a long journey, he counselled me to make up with Unga-golah, the _harem's_ Cerberus, as she suspected my intimacy with Esther, who would doubtless be denounced to Ormond, unless I purchased the beldame's silence. Indeed, ever since the night of warning, when the beautiful _quarteroon_ visited my hovel, I had contrived to meet this charming girl, as the only solace of my solitude. Amid all the wild, passionate, and savage surroundings of Bangalang, Esther--the Pariah--was the only golden link that still seemed to bind me to humanity and the lands beyond the seas. On that burning coast, I was not excited by the stirring of an adventurous life, nor was my young heart seduced and bewildered by absorbing avarice. Many a night, when the dews penetrated my flesh, as I looked towards the west, my soul shrank from the selfish wretches around me, and went off in dreams to the homes I had abandoned. When I came back to myself,--when I was forced to recognize my doom in Africa,--when I acknowledged that my lot had been cast, perhaps unwisely, by myself, my spirit turned, like the worm from the crashing heel, and found nothing that kindled for me with the light of human sympathy, save this outcast girl. Esther was to me as a sister, and when the hint of her harm or loss was given, I hastened to disarm the only hand that could inflict a blow. Unga-golah was a woman, and a rope of sparkling coral for her neck, smothered all her wrongs. The months I had passed in Africa without illness,--though I went abroad after dark, and bathed in the river during the heat of the day,--made me believe myself proof against malaria. But, at length, a violent pain in my loins, accompanied by a swimming head, warned me that the African fever held me in its dreaded gripe. In two days I was delirious. Ormond visited me; but I knew him not, and in my madness, called on Esther, accompanying the name with terms of endearment. This, I was told, stirred the surprise and jealousy of the Mongo, who forthwith assailed the matron of his harem with a torrent of inquiries and abuse. But Unga-golah was faithful. The beads had sealed her tongue; so that, with the instinctive adroitness peculiar to ladies of her color, she fabricated a story which not only quieted the Mongo, but added lustre to Esther's character. The credulous old man finding Unga so well disposed towards his watchful clerk, restored the warehouse to her custody. This was the height of her avaricious ambition; and, in token of gratitude for my profitable malady, she contrived to let Esther become the nurse and guardian of my sick bed. As my fever and delirium continued, a native doctor, renowned for his skill, was summoned, who ordered me to be cupped in the African fashion by scarifying my back and stomach with a hot knife, and applying plantain leaves to the wounds. The operation allayed my pulse for a few hours; but as the fever came back with new vigor, it became necessary for my attendants to arouse the Mongo to a sense of my imminent danger. Yet Ormond, instead of springing with alacrity to succor a friend and retainer in affliction, sent for a young man, named Edward Joseph, who had formerly been in his employment, but was now settled on his own account in Bangalang. Joseph proved a good Samaritan. As soon as he dared venture upon my removal, he took me to his establishment at Kambia, and engaged the services of another Mandingo doctor, in whose absurdities he believed. But all the charms and incantations of the savage would not avail, and I remained in a state of utter prostration and apparent insensibility until morning. As soon as day dawned, my faithful Esther was again on the field of action; and this time she insisted upon the trial of her judgment, in the person of an old white-headed woman, who accompanied her in the guise of the greatest enchantress of the coast. A slave, paid in advance, was the fee for which she undertook to warrant my cure. No time was to be lost. The floor of a small and close mud hut was intensely heated, and thickly strewn with moistened lemon leaves, over which a cloth was spread for a couch. As soon as the bed was ready, I was borne to the hovel, and, covered with blankets, was allowed to steam and perspire, while my medical attendant dosed me with half a tumbler of a green disgusting juice which she extracted from herbs. This process of drinking and barbecuing was repeated during five consecutive days, at the end of which my fever was gone. But my convalescence was not speedy. For many a day, I stalked about, a useless skeleton, covering with ague, and afflicted by an insatiable appetite, until a French physician restored me to health by the use of cold baths at the crisis of my fever. When I was sufficiently recovered to attend to business, Mongo John desired me to resume my position in his employment. I heard, however, from Esther, that during my illness, Unga-golah used her opportunities so profitably in the warehouse, that there would be sad deficiencies, which, doubtless, might be thrown on me, if the crone were badly disposed at any future period. Accordingly, I thought it decidedly most prudent to decline the clerkship, and requested the Mongo to recompense me for the time and attention I had already bestowed on him. This was refused by the indolent voluptuary; so we parted with coolness, and I was once more adrift in the world. In these great outlying colonies and lodgments of European nations in the East Indies and Africa, a stranger is commonly welcome to the hospitality of every foreigner. I had no hesitation, therefore, in returning to the house of Joseph, who, like myself, had been a clerk of Ormond, and suffered from the pilferings of the matron. My host, I understood, was a native of London, where he was born of continental parents, and came to Sierra Leone with Governor Turner. Upon the death or return of that officer,--I do not recollect which,--the young adventurer remained in the colony, and, for a time, enjoyed the post of harbor master. His first visit to the Rio Pongo was in the capacity of supercargo of a small coasting craft, laden with valuable merchandise. Joseph succeeded in disposing of his wares, but was not equally fortunate in collecting their avails. It was, perhaps, an ill-judged act of the supercargo, but he declined to face his creditors with a deficient balance-sheet; and quitting Sierra Leone for ever, accepted service with Ormond. For a year he continued in this employment; but, at the end of that period, considering himself sufficiently informed of the trade and language of the river, he sent a message to his creditors at the British settlement that he could promptly pay them in full, if they would advance him capital enough to commence an independent trade. The terms were accepted by an opulent Israelite, and in a short time Edward Joseph was numbered among the successful factors of Rio Pongo. As I had nothing to do but get well and talk, I employed my entire leisure in acquiring the native language perfectly. The Soosoo is a dialect of the Mandingo. Its words, ending almost universally in vowels, render it as glibly soft and musical as Italian; so that, in a short time, I spoke it as fluently as my native tongue. CHAPTER XI. The 15th of March, 1827, was an epoch in my life. I remember it well, because it became the turning point of my destiny. A few weeks more of indolence might have forced me back to Europe or America, but the fortune of that day decided my residence and dealings in Africa. At dawn of the 15th, a vessel was descried in the offing, and, as she approached the coast, the initiated soon ascertained her to be a Spanish slaver. But, what was the amazement of the river grandees when the captain landed and consigned his vessel _to me_! "LA FORTUNA," the property, chiefly, of my old friend the Regla grocer, was successor of the Areostatico, which she exceeded in size as well as comfort. Her captain was charged to pay me my wages in full for the round voyage in the craft I had abandoned, and handed me, besides, a purse of thirty doubloons as a testimonial from his owners for my defence of their property on the dreadful night of our arrival. The "Fortuna" was dispatched to me for an "assorted cargo of slaves," while 200,000 cigars and 500 ounces of Mexican gold, were on board for their purchase. My commission was fixed at ten per cent., and I was promised a command whenever I saw fit to abandon my residence on the African coast. Having no factory, or _barracoon_ of slaves, and being elevated to the dignity of "a trader" in so sudden a manner, I thought it best to summon all the factors of the river on board the schooner, with an offer to divide the cargo, provided they would pledge the production of the slaves within thirty days. Dispatch was all-important to the owners, and, so anxious was I to gratify them, that I consented to pay fifty dollars for every slave that should be accepted. After some discussion my offer was taken, and the cargo apportioned among the residents. They declined, however, receiving any share of the cigars in payment, insisting on liquidation in gold alone. As this was my first enterprise, I felt at a loss to know how to convert my useless tobacco into merchantable doubloons. In this strait, I had recourse to the Englishman Joseph, who hitherto traded exclusively in produce; but, being unable to withstand the temptation of gold, had consented to furnish a portion of my required negroes. As soon as I stated the difficulty to Don Edward, he proposed to send the Havanas to his Hebrew friend in Sierra Leone, where, he did not doubt, they would be readily exchanged for Manchester merchandise. That evening a canoe was dispatched to the English colony with the cigars; and, on the tenth day after, the trusty Israelite appeared in the Rio Pongo, with a cutter laden to the deck with superior British fabrics. The rumor of five hundred doubloons disturbed his rest in Sierra Leone! So much gold could not linger in the hands of natives as long as Manchester and Birmingham were represented in the colony; and, accordingly, he coasted the edge of the surf, as rapidly as possible, to pay me a profit of four dollars a thousand for the cigars, and to take his chances at the exchange of my gold for the sable cargo! By this happy hit I was enabled to pay for the required balance of negroes, as well as to liquidate the schooners expenses while in the river. I was amazingly rejoiced and proud at this happy result, because I learned from the captain that the invoice of cigars was a malicious trick, palmed off on the Areostatico's owners by her captain, in order to thwart or embarrass me, when he heard I was to be intrusted with the purchase of a cargo on the coast. At the appointed day, La Fortuna sailed with 220 human beings packed in her hold. Three months afterwards, I received advices that she safely landed 217 in the bay of Matanzas, and that their sale yielded a clear profit on the voyage of forty-one thousand four hundred and thirty-eight dollars.[B] As I am now fairly embarked in a trade which absorbed so many of my most vigorous years, I suppose the reader will not be loth to learn a little of my experience in the alleged "cruelties" of this commerce; and the first question, in all likelihood, that rises to his lips, is a solicitation to be apprised of the embarkation and treatment of slaves on the dreaded voyage. An African factor of fair repute is ever careful to select his human cargo with consummate prudence, so as not only to supply his employers with athletic laborers, but to avoid any taint of disease that may affect the slaves in their transit to Cuba or the American main. Two days before embarkation, the head of every male and female is neatly shaved; and, if the cargo belongs to several owners, each man's _brand_ is impressed on the body of his respective negro. This operation is performed with pieces of silver wire, or small irons fashioned into the merchant's initials, heated just hot enough to blister without burning the skin. When the entire cargo is the venture of but one proprietor, the branding is always dispensed with. On the appointed day, the _barracoon_ or slave-pen is made joyous by the abundant "feed" which signalizes the negro's last hours in his native country. The feast over, they are taken alongside the vessel in canoes; and as they touch the deck, they are entirely stripped, so that women as well as men go out of Africa as they came into it--_naked_. This precaution, it will be understood, is indispensable; for perfect nudity, during the whole voyage, is the only means of securing cleanliness and health. In this state, they are immediately ordered below, the men to the hold and the women to the cabin, while boys and girls are, day and night, kept on deck, where their sole protection from the elements is a sail in fair weather, and a _tarpaulin_ in foul. At meal time they are distributed in messes of ten. Thirty years ago, when the Spanish slave-trade was lawful, the captains were somewhat more ceremoniously religious than at present, and it was then a universal habit to make the gangs say grace before meat, and give thanks afterwards. In our days, however, they dispense with this ritual, and content themselves with a "_Viva la Habana_," or "hurrah for Havana," accompanied by a clapping of hands. This over, a bucket of salt water is served to each mess, by way of "finger glasses" for the ablution of hands, after which a _kidd_,--either of rice, farina, yams, or beans,--according to the tribal habit of the negroes, is placed before the squad. In order to prevent greediness or inequality in the appropriation of nourishment, the process is performed by signals from a monitor, whose motions indicate when the darkies shall dip and when they shall swallow. It is the duty of a guard to report immediately whenever a slave refuses to eat, in order that his abstinence may be traced to stubbornness or disease. Negroes have sometimes been found in slavers who attempted voluntary starvation; so that, when the watch reports the patient to be "shamming," his appetite is stimulated by the medical antidote of a "cat." If the slave, however, is truly ill, he is forthwith ticketed for the sick list by a bead or button around his neck, and dispatched to an infirmary in the forecastle. These meals occur twice daily,--at ten in the morning and four in the afternoon,--and are terminated by another ablution. Thrice in each twenty-four hours they are served with half a pint of water. Pipes and tobacco are circulated economically among both sexes; but, as each negro cannot be allowed the luxury of a separate bowl, boys are sent round with an adequate supply, allowing a few whiffs to each individual. On regular days,--probably three times a week,--their mouths are carefully rinsed with vinegar, while, nearly every morning, a dram is given as an antidote to scurvy. Although it is found necessary to keep the sexes apart, they are allowed to converse freely during day while on deck. Corporal punishment is _never_ inflicted save by order of an officer, and, even then, not until the culprit understands exactly why it is done. Once a week, the ship's barber scrapes their chins without assistance from soap; and, on the same day, their nails are closely pared, to insure security from harm in those nightly battles that occur, when the slave contests with his neighbor every inch of plank to which he is glued. During afternoons of serene weather, men, women, girls, and boys are allowed to unite in African melodies, which they always enhance by an extemporaneous _tom-tom_ on the bottom of a tub or tin kettle. These hints will apprise the reader that the greatest care, compatible with safety, is taken of a negro's health and cleanliness on the voyage. In every well-conducted slaver, the captain, officers, and crew, are alert and vigilant to preserve the cargo. It is their personal interest, as well as the interest of humanity to do so. The boatswain is incessant in his patrol of purification, and disinfecting substances are plenteously distributed. The upper deck is washed and swabbed daily; the slave deck is scraped and holy-stoned; and, at nine o'clock each morning, the captain inspects every part of his craft; so that no vessel, except a man-of-war, can compare with a slaver in systematic order, purity, and neatness. I am not aware that the ship-fever, which sometimes decimates the emigrants from Europe, has ever prevailed in these African traders. At sundown, the process of stowing the slaves for the night is begun. The second mate and boatswain descend into the hold, whip in hand, and range the slaves in their regular places; those on the right side of the vessel facing forward, and lying in each other's lap, while those on the left are similarly stowed with their faces towards the stern. In this way each negro lies on his right side, which is considered preferable for the action of the heart. In allotting places, particular attention is paid to size, the taller being selected for the greatest breadth of the vessel, while the shorter and younger are lodged near the bows. When the cargo is large and the lower deck crammed, the supernumeraries are disposed of on deck, which is securely covered with boards to shield them from moisture. The _strict_ discipline of nightly stowage is, of course, of the greatest importance in slavers, else every negro would accommodate himself as if he were a passenger. In order to insure perfect silence and regularity during night, a slave is chosen as constable from every ten, and furnished with a "cat" to enforce commands during his appointed watch. In remuneration for his services, which, it may be believed, are admirably performed whenever the whip is required, he is adorned with an old shirt or tarry trowsers. Now and then, billets of wood are distributed among the sleepers, but this luxury is never granted until the good temper of the negroes is ascertained, for slaves have often been tempted to mutiny by the power of arming themselves with these pillows from the forest. It is very probable that many of my readers will consider it barbarous to make slaves lie down naked upon a board, but let me inform them that native Africans are not familiar with the use of feather-beds, nor do any but the free and rich in their mother country indulge in the luxury even of a mat or raw-hide. Among the Mandingo chiefs,--the most industrious and civilized of Africans,--the beds, divans, and sofas, are heaps of mud, covered with untanned skins for cushions, while logs of wood serve for bolsters! I am of opinion, therefore, that emigrant slaves experience very slight inconvenience in lying down on the deck. But _ventilation_ is carefully attended to. The hatches and bulkheads of every slaver are grated, and apertures are cut about the deck for ampler circulation of air. Wind-sails, too, are constantly pouring a steady draft into the hold, except during a chase, when, of course, every comfort is temporarily sacrificed for safety. During calms or in light and baffling winds, when the suffocating air of the tropics makes ventilation impossible, the gratings are always removed, and portions of the slaves allowed to repose at night on deck, while the crew is armed to watch the sleepers. Handcuffs are rarely used on shipboard. It is the common custom to secure slaves in the _barracoons_, and while shipping, by chaining _ten_ in a gang; but as these platoons would be extremely inconvenient at sea, the manacles are immediately taken off and replaced by leg-irons, which fasten them in pairs by the feet. Shackles are never used but for _full-grown men_, while _women_ and _boys_ are set at liberty as soon as they embark. It frequently happens that when the behavior of _male_ slaves warrants their freedom, they are released from all fastenings long before they arrive. Irons are altogether dispensed with on many _Brazilian_ slavers, as negroes from Anjuda, Benin, and Angola, are mild; and unaddicted to revolt like those who dwell east of the Cape or north of the Gold Coast. Indeed, a knowing trader will never use chains but when compelled, for the longer a slave is ironed the more he deteriorates; and, as his sole object is to land a healthy cargo, pecuniary interest, as well as natural feeling, urges the sparing of metal. My object in writing this palliative description is not to exculpate the slavers or their commerce, but to correct those exaggerated stories which have so long been current in regard to the _usual_ voyage of a trader. I have always believed that the cause of humanity, as well as any other cause, was least served by over-statement; and I am sure that if the narratives given by Englishmen are true, the voyages they detail must either have occurred before my day, or were conducted in British vessels, while her majesty's subjects still considered the traffic lawful.[C] FOOTNOTES: [B] As the reader may scarcely credit so large a profit, I subjoin an account of the fitting of a slave vessel from Havana in 1827, and the liquidation of her voyage in Cuba:-- 1.--EXPENSES OUT. Cost of LA FORTUNA, a 90 ton schooner, $3,700 00 Fitting out, sails, carpenter and cooper's bills, 2,500 00 Provisions for crew and slaves, 1,115 00 Wages advanced to 18 men before the mast, 900 00 " " to captain, mates, boatswain, cook, and steward, 440 00 200,000 cigars and 500 doubloons, cargo, 10,900 00 Clearance and hush-money, 200 00 ----------- $19,755 00 Commission at 5 per cent., 987 00 ----------- Full cost of voyage out, $20,742 00 2.--EXPENSES HOME. Captain's head-money, at $8 a head, 1,746 00 Mate's " $4 " 873 00 Second mate and boatswain's head-money, at $2 each a head, 873 00 Captain's wages, 219 78 First mate's wages 175 56 Second mate and boatswain's wages, 307 12 Cook and steward's wages, 264 00 Eighteen sailors' wages, 1,972 00 ----------- $27,172 46 3.--EXPENSES IN HAVANA. Government officers, at $8 per head, 1,736 00 My commission on 217 slaves, expenses off, 5,565 00 Consignees' commissions, 8,878 00 217 slave dresses, at $2 each, 634 00 Extra expenses of all kinds, say, 1,000 00 ----------- Total expenses, $39,980 46 4.--RETURNS. Value of vessel at auction, $3,950 00 Proceeds of 217 slaves, 77,469 00 ----------- $81,419 00 ----------- RESUMÉ. Total Returns, $81,419 00 " Expenses, 39,980 46 ----------- Nett profit, $41,438 54 ----------- [C] The treaty with Spain, which was designed by Great Britain to end the slave-trade, failed utterly to produce the desired result. All _profitable_ trade,--illicit, contraband, or what not,--_will_ be carried on by avaricious men, as long as the temptation continues. Accordingly, whenever a trade becomes _forced_, the only and sure result of violent restriction is to imperil still more both life and cargo. 1st.--The treaty with Spain, it is said, was enforced some time before it was properly promulgated or notified; so that British cruisers seized over eighty vessels, one third of which certainly were not designed for slave-trade. 2d.--As the compact condemned slave vessels to be broken up, the sailing qualities of craft were improved to facilitate escape, rather than insure human comfort. 3d.--The Spanish slavers had recourse to Brazilians and Portuguese to cover their property; and, as slavers could not be fitted out in Cuba, other nations sent their vessels ready equipped to Africa, and (under the jib-booms of cruisers) Sardinians, Frenchmen and Americans, transferred them to slave traders, while the captains and parts of the crew took passage home in regular merchantmen. 4th.--As the treaty created greater risk, every method of economy was resorted to; and the crowding and cramming of slaves was one of the most prominent results. Water and provisions were diminished; and every thing was sacrificed for gain. CHAPTER XII. In old times, before treaties made slave-trade piracy, the landing of human cargoes was as comfortably conducted as the disembarkation of flour. But now, the enterprise is effected with secrecy and hazard. A wild, uninhabited portion of the coast, where some little bay or sheltering nook exists, is commonly selected by the captain and his confederates. As soon as the vessel is driven close to the beach and anchored, her boats are packed with slaves, while the craft is quickly dismantled to avoid detection from sea or land. The busy skiffs are hurried to and fro incessantly till the cargo is entirely ashore, when the secured gang, led by the captain, and escorted by armed sailors, is rapidly marched to the nearest plantation. There it is safe from the rapacity of local magistrates, who, if they have a chance, imitate their superiors by exacting "_gratifications_." In the mean time, a _courier_ has been dispatched to the owners in Havana, Matanzas, or Santiago de Cuba, who immediately post to the plantation with clothes for the slaves and gold for the crew. Preparations are quickly made through brokers for the sale of the blacks; while the vessel, if small, is disguised, to warrant her return under the coasting flag to a port of clearance. If the craft happens to be large, it is considered perilous to attempt a return with a cargo, or "_in distress_," and, accordingly, she is either sunk or burnt where she lies. When the genuine African reaches a plantation for the first time, he fancies himself in paradise. He is amazed by the generosity with which he is fed with fruit and fresh provisions. His new clothes, red cap, and roasting blanket (a civilized superfluity he never dreamed of), strike him dumb with delight, and, in his savage joy, he not only forgets country, relations, and friends, but skips about like a monkey, while he dons his garments wrongside out or hind-part before! The arrival of a carriage or cart creates no little confusion among the Ethiopian groups, who never imagined that beasts could be made to work. But the climax of wonder is reached when that paragon of oddities, a Cuban _postilion_, dressed in his sky-blue coat, silver-laced hat, white breeches, polished jack-boots, and ringing spurs, leaps from his prancing quadruped, and bids them welcome in their mother-tongue. Every African rushes to "snap fingers" with his equestrian brother, who, according to orders, forthwith preaches an edifying sermon on the happiness of being a white man's slave, taking care to jingle his spurs and crack his whip at the end of every sentence, by way of _amen_. Whenever a cargo is owned by several proprietors, each one takes his share at once to his plantation; but if it is the property of speculators, the blacks are sold to any one who requires them before removal from the original depot. The sale is, of course, conducted as rapidly as possible, to forestall the interference of British officials with the Captain-General. Many of the Spanish Governors in Cuba have respected treaties, or, at least, promised to enforce the laws. Squadrons of dragoons and troops of lancers have been paraded with convenient delay, and ordered to gallop to plantations designated by the representative of England. It generally happens, however, that when the hunters arrive the game is gone. Scandal declares that, while brokers are selling the blacks at the depot, it is not unusual for their owner or his agent to be found knocking at the door of the Captain-General's secretary. It is often said that the Captain-General himself is sometimes present in the sanctuary, and, after a familiar chat about the happy landing of "the contraband,"--as the traffic is amiably called, the requisite _rouleaux_ are insinuated into the official desk under the intense smoke of a fragrant _cigarillo_. The metal is always considered the property of the Captain-General, but his scribe avails himself of a lingering farewell at the door, to hint an immediate and pressing need for "a very small darkey!" Next day, the diminutive African does not appear; but, as it is believed that Spanish officials prefer gold even to mortal flesh, his algebraic equivalent is unquestionably furnished in the shape of shining ounces! * * * * * The prompt dispatch I gave the schooner Fortuna, started new ideas among the traders of the Rio Pongo, so that it was generally agreed my method of dividing the cargo among different factors was not only most advantageous for speed, but prevented monopoly, and gave all an equal chance. At a "grand palaver" or assemblage of the traders on the river, it was resolved that this should be the course of trade for the future. All the factors, except Ormond, attended and assented; but we learned that the Mongo's people, with difficulty prevented him from sending an armed party to break up our deliberations. The knowledge of this hostile feeling soon spread throughout the settlement and adjacent towns, creating considerable excitement against Ormond. My plan and principles were approved by the natives as well as foreigners, so that warning was sent the Mongo, if any harm befell Joseph and Theodore, it would be promptly resented. Our native landlord, Ali-Ninpha, a Foulah by descent, told him boldly, in presence of his people, that the Africans were "tired of a mulatto Mongo;" and, from that day, his power dwindled away visibly, though a show of respect was kept up in consequence of his age and ancient importance. During these troubles, the Areostatico returned to my consignment, and in twenty-two days was dispatched with a choice cargo of Mandingoes,--a tribe, which had become fashionable for house servants among the Havanese. But the luckless vessel was never heard of, and it is likely she went down in some of the dreadful gales that scourged the coast immediately after her departure. CHAPTER XIII. I had now grown to such sudden importance among the natives, that the neighboring chiefs and kings sent me daily messages of friendship, with trifling gifts that I readily accepted. One of these bordering lords, more generous and insinuating than the rest, hinted several times his anxiety for a closer connection in affection as well as trade, and, at length, insisted upon becoming my father-in-law! I had always heard in Italy that it was something to receive the hand of a princess, even after long and tedious wooing; but now that I was surrounded by a mob of kings, who absolutely thrust their daughters on me, I confess I had the bad taste not to leap with joy at the royal offering. Still, I was in a difficult position, as no graver offence can be given a chief than to reject his child. It is so serious an insult to refuse a wife, that, high born natives, in order to avoid quarrels or war, accept the tender boon, and as soon as etiquette permits, pass it over to a friend or relation. As the offer was made to me personally by the king, I found the utmost difficulty in escaping. Indeed, he would receive no excuse. When I declined on account of the damsel's youth, he laughed incredulously. If I urged the feebleness of my health and tardy convalescence, he insisted that a regular life of matrimony was the best cordial for an impaired constitution. In fact, the paternal solicitude of his majesty for my doubloons was so urgent that I was on the point of yielding myself a patient sacrifice, when Joseph came to my relief with the offer of his hand as a substitute. The Gordian knot was cut. Prince Yungee in reality did not care so much who should be his son-in-law as that he obtained one with a white skin and plentiful purse. Joseph or Theodore, Saxon or Italian, made no difference to the chief; and, as is the case in all Oriental lands, the opinion of the lady was of no importance whatever. I cannot say that my partner viewed this matrimonial project with the disgust that I did. Perhaps he was a man of more liberal philosophy and wider views of human brotherhood; at any rate, his residence in Africa gave him a taste not only for its people, habits, and superstitions, but he upheld practical amalgamation with more fervor and honesty than a regular abolitionist. Joseph was possessed by Africo-mania. He admired the women, the men, the language, the cookery, the music. He would fall into philharmonic ecstasies over the discord of a bamboo _tom-tom_. I have reason to believe that even African barbarities had charms for the odd Englishman; but he was chiefly won by the _dolce far niente_ of the natives, and the Oriental license of polygamy. In a word, Joseph had the same taste for a full-blooded _cuffee_, that an epicure has for the _haut gout_ of a stale partridge, and was in ecstasies at my extrication. He neglected his _siestas_ and his accounts; he wandered from house to house with the rapture of an impatient bridegroom; and, till every thing was ready for the nuptial rites, no one at the factory had a moment's rest. As the bride's relations were eminent folks on the upper part of the river, they insisted that the marriage ceremony should be performed with all the honorable formalities due to the lady's rank. Esther, who acted as my mentor in every "country-question," suggested that it would be contrary to the Englishman's interest to ally himself with a family whose only motive was sordid. She strongly urged that if he persisted in taking the girl, he should do so without a "_colungee_" or ceremonial feast. But Joseph was obstinate as a bull; and as he doubted whether he would ever commit matrimony again, he insisted that the nuptials should be celebrated with all the fashionable splendor of high life in Africa. When this was decided, it became necessary, by a fiction of etiquette, to ignore the previous offer of the bride, and to begin anew, as if the damsel were to be sought in the most delicate way by a desponding lover. She must be demanded formally, by the bridegroom from her reluctant mother; and accordingly, the most respectable matron in our colony was chosen by Joseph from his colored acquaintances to be the bearer of his valentine. In the present instance, the selected Cupid was the principal wife of our native landlord, Ali-Ninpha; and, as Africans as well as Turks love by the pound, the dame happened to be one of the fattest, as well as most respectable, in our parish. Several female _attachés_ were added to the suite of the ambassadress, who forthwith departed to make a proper "_dantica_." The gifts selected were of four kinds. First of all, two demijohns of _trade_-rum were filled to gladden the community of Mongo-Yungee's town. Next, a piece of blue cotton cloth, a musket, a keg of powder, and a demijohn of _pure_ rum, were packed for papa. Thirdly, a youthful virgin dressed in a white "tontongee,"[2] a piece of white cotton cloth, a white basin, a white sheep, and a basket of white rice, were put up for mamma, in token of her daughter's purity. And, lastly, a German looking-glass, several bunches of beads, a coral necklace, a dozen of turkey-red handkerchiefs, and a spotless white country-cloth, were presented to the bride; together with a decanter of white palm-oil for the anointment of her ebony limbs after the bath, which is never neglected by African _belles_. While the missionary of love was absent, our sighing swain devoted his energies to the erection of a bridal palace; and the task required just as many days as were employed in the creation of the world. The building was finished by the aid of bamboos, straw, and a modicum of mud; and, as Joseph imagined that love and coolness were secured in such a climate by utter darkness, he provided an abundance of that commodity by omitting windows entirely. The furnishing of the domicil was completed with all the luxury of native taste. An elastic four-poster was constructed of bamboos; some dashing crockery was set about the apartment for display; a cotton quilt was cast over the matted couch; an old trunk served for bureau and wardrobe; and, as negresses adore looking-glasses, the largest in our warehouse was nailed against the door, as the only illuminated part of the edifice. At last all was complete, and Joseph snapped his fingers with delight, when the corpulent dame waddled up asthmatically, and announced with a wheeze that her mission was prosperous. If there had ever been doubt, there was now no more. The oracular "_fetiche_" had announced that the delivery of the bride to her lord might take place "on the tenth day of the new moon." As the planet waxed from its slender sickle to the thicker quarter, the impatience of my Cockney waxed with it; but, at length, the firing of muskets, the twang of horns, and the rattle of tom-toms, gave notice from the river that COOMBA, the bride, was approaching the quay. Joseph and myself hastily donned our clean shirts, white trousers, and glistening pumps; and, under the shade of broad _sombreros_ and umbrellas, proceeded to greet the damsel. Our fat friend, the matron; Ali-Ninpha, her husband; our servants, and a troop of village ragamuffins, accompanied us to the water's brink, so that we were just in time to receive the five large canoes bearing the escort of the king and his daughter. Boat after boat disgorged its passengers; but, to our dismay, they ranged themselves apart, and were evidently displeased. When the last canoe, decorated with flags, containing the bridal party, approached the strand, the chief of the escort signalled it to stop and forbade the landing. In a moment there was a general row--a row, conceivable only by residents of Africa, or those whose ears have been regaled with the chattering of a "wilderness of monkeys." Our lusty _factotum_ was astonished. The Cockney aspirated his _h's_ with uncommon volubility. We hastened from one to the other to inquire the cause; nor was it until near half an hour had been wasted in palaver, that I found they considered themselves slighted, first of all because we had not fired a salvo in their honor, and secondly because we failed to spread mats from the beach to the house, upon which the bride might place her virgin feet without defilement! These were indispensable formalities among the "upper ten;" and the result was that COOMBA could not land unless the etiquette were fulfilled. Here, then, was a sad dilemma. The guns could be fired instantly;--but where, alas! at a moment's notice, were we to obtain mats enough to carpet the five hundred yards of transit from the river to the house? The match must be broken off! My crest-fallen cockney immediately began to exculpate himself by pleading ignorance of the country's customs,--assuring the strangers that he had not the slightest inkling of the requirement. Still, the stubborn "master of ceremonies" would not relax an iota of his rigorous behests. At length, our bulky dame approached the master of the bridal party, and, squatting on her knees, confessed her neglectful fault. Then, for the first time, I saw a gleam of hope. Joseph improved the moment by alleging that he employed this lady patroness to conduct every thing in the sublimest style imaginable, because it was presumed no one knew better than she all that was requisite for so admirable and virtuous a lady as COOMBA. Inasmuch, however, as he had been disappointed by her unhappy error, he did not think the blow should fall on _his_ shoulders. The negligent matron ought to pay the penalty; and, as it was impossible now to procure the mats, she should forfeit the value of a slave to aid the merry-making, _and carry the bride on her back from the river to her home_! A clapping of hands and a quick murmur of assent ran through the crowd, telling me that the compromise was accepted. But the porterage was no sinecure for the delinquent elephant, who found it difficult at times to get along over African sands even without a burden. Still, no time was lost in further parley or remonstrance. The muskets and cannon were brought down and exploded; the royal boat was brought to the landing; father, mother, brothers, and relations were paraded on the strand; tom-toms and horns were beaten and blown; and, at last, the suffering missionary waddled to the canoe to receive the veiled form of the slender bride. The process of removal was accompanied by much merriment. Our corpulent porter groaned as she "larded the lean earth" beneath her ponderous tread; but, in due course of labor and patience, she sank with her charge on the bamboo couch of Master Joseph. As soon as the bearer and the burden were relieved from their fatigue, the maiden was brought to the door, and, as her long concealing veil of spotless cotton was unwrapped from head and limbs, a shout of admiration went up from the native crowd that followed us from the quay to the hovel. As Joseph received the hand of COOMBA, he paid the princely fee of a slave to the matron. COOMBA had certainly not numbered more than sixteen years, yet, in that burning region, the sex ripen long before their pallid sisters of the North. She belonged to the Soosoo tribe, but was descended from Mandingo ancestors, and I was particularly struck by the uncommon symmetry of her tapering limbs. Her features and head, though decidedly African, were not of that coarse and heavy cast that marks the lineaments of her race. The grain of her shining skin was as fine and polished as ebony. A melancholy languor subdued and deepened the blackness of her large eyes, while her small and even teeth gleamed with the brilliant purity of snow. Her mouth was rosy and even delicate; and, indeed, had not her ankles, feet, and wool, manifested the unfortunate types of her kindred, COOMBA, the daughter of Mongo-Yungee, might have passed for a _chef d'oeuvre in black marble_. The scant dress of the damsel enabled me to be so minute in this catalogue of her charms; and, in truth, had I not inspected them closely, I would have violated matrimonial etiquette as much as if I failed to admire the _trousseau_ and gifts of a bride at home. Coomba's costume was as innocently primitive as Eve's after the expulsion. Like all maidens of her country, she had beads round her ankles, beads round her waist, beads round her neck, while an abundance of bracelets hooped her arms from wrist to elbow. The white _tontongee_ still girdled her loins; but Coomba's climate was her mantuamaker, and indicated more necessity for ornament than drapery. Accordingly, Coomba was obedient to Nature, and troubled herself very little about a supply of useless garments, to load the presses and vex the purse of her bridegroom. As soon as the process of unveiling was over, and time had been allowed the spectators to behold the damsel, her mother led her gently to the fat ambassadress, who, with her companions, bore the girl to a bath for ablution, anointment, and perfuming. While Coomba underwent this ceremony at the hands of our matron, flocks of sable dames entered the apartment; and, as they withdrew, shook hands with her mother, in token of the maiden's purity, and with the groom in compliment to his luck. As soon as the bath and _oiling_ were over, six girls issued from the hut, bearing the glistening bride on a snow-white sheet to the home of her spouse. The transfer was soon completed, and the burden deposited on the nuptial bed. The dwelling was then closed and put in charge of sentinels; when the plump plenipotentiary approached the Anglo-Saxon, and handing him the scant fragments of the bridal dress, pointed to the door, and, in a loud voice, exclaimed: "White man, this authorizes you to take possession of your wife!" It may naturally be supposed that our radiant cockney was somewhat embarrassed by so public a display of matrimonial happiness, at six o'clock in the afternoon, on the thirtieth day of a sweltering June. Joseph could not help looking at me with a blush and a laugh, as he saw the eyes of the whole crowd fixed on his movements; but, nerving himself like a man, he made a profound _salaam_ to the admiring multitude, and shaking my hand with a convulsive grip, plunged into the darkness of his abode. A long pole was forthwith planted before the door, and a slender strip of white cotton, about the size of a "_tontongee_," was hoisted in token of privacy, and floated from the staff like a pennant, giving notice that the commodore is aboard. No sooner were these rites over, than the house was surrounded by a swarm of women from the adjacent villages, whose incessant songs, screams, chatter, and _tom-tom_ beatings, drowned every mortal sound. Meanwhile, the men of the party--whose merriment around an enormous _bonfire_ was augmented by abundance of liquor and provisions--amused themselves in dancing, shouting, yelling, and discharging muskets in honor of the nuptials. Such was the ceaseless serenade that drove peace from the lovers' pillow during the whole of that memorable night. At dawn, the corpulent matron again appeared from among the wild and reeling crowd, and concluding her functions by some mysterious ceremonies, led forth the lank groom from the dark cavity of his hot and sleepless oven, looking more like a bewildered wretch rescued from drowning, than a radiant lover fresh from his charmer. In due time, the bride also was brought forth by the matrons for the bath, where she was anointed from head to foot with a vegetable butter,--whose odor is probably more agreeable to Africans than Americans,--and fed with a bowl of broth made from a young and tender pullet. The marriage _fêtes_ lasted three days, after which I insisted that Joseph should give up nonsense for business, and sobered his ecstasies by handing him a wedding-bill for five hundred and fifty dollars. There is hardly a doubt that he considered COOMBA very _dear_, if not absolutely adorable! FOOTNOTE: [2] A _tontongee_ is a strip of white cotton cloth, three inches wide and four feet long, used as a _virgin African's only dress_. It is wound round the limbs, and, hanging partly in front and partly behind, is supported from the maiden's waist by strands of _showee-beads_. CHAPTER XIV. I am sorry to say that my colleague's honeymoon did not last long, although it was not interrupted by domestic discord. One of his malicious Sierra Leone creditors, who had not been dealt with quite as liberally as the rest, called on the colonial governor of that British establishment, and alleged that a certain Edward Joseph, an Englishman, owned a factory on the Rio Pongo, in company with a Spaniard, and was engaged in the slave-trade! At this the British lion, of course, growled in his African cage, and bestirred himself to punish the recreant cub. An expedition was forthwith fitted out to descend upon our little establishment; and, in all likelihood, the design would have been executed, had not our friendly Israelite in Sierra Leone sent us timely warning. No sooner did the news arrive than Joseph embarked in a slaver, and, packing up his valuables, together with sixty negroes, fled from Africa. His disconsolate bride was left to return to her parents. As the hostile visit from the British colony was hourly expected, I did not tarry long in putting a new face on Kambia. Fresh books were made out in my name exclusively; their dates were carefully suited to meet all inquiries; and the townspeople were prepared to answer impertinent questions; so that, when Lieutenant Findlay, of Her Britannic Majesty's naval service, made his appearance in the river, with three boats bearing the cross of St. George, no man in the settlement was less anxious than Don Téodore, the _Spaniard_. When the lieutenant handed me an order from the governor of Sierra Leone and its dependencies, authorizing him to burn or destroy the property of Joseph, as well as to arrest that personage himself, I regretted that I was unable to facilitate his patriotic projects, inasmuch as the felon was afloat on salt water, while all his property had long before been conveyed to me by a regular bill of sale. In proof of my assertions, I produced the instrument and the books; and when I brought in our African landlord to sustain me in every particular, the worthy lieutenant was forced to relinquish his hostility and accept an invitation to dinner. His conduct during the whole investigation was that of a gentleman; which, I am sorry to say, was not always the case with his professional countrymen. * * * * * During the rainy season, which begins in June and lasts till October, the stores of provisions in establishments along the Atlantic coast often become sadly impaired. The Foulah and Mandingo tribes of the interior are prevented by the swollen condition of intervening streams from visiting the beach with their produce. In these straits, the factories have recourse by canoes to the smaller rivers, which are neither entered by sea-going vessels, nor blockaded for the caravans of interior chiefs. Among the tribes or clans visited by me in such seasons, I do not remember any whose intercourse afforded more pleasure, or exhibited nobler traits, than the BAGERS, who dwell on the solitary margins of these shallow rivulets, and subsist by boiling salt in the dry season and making palm-oil in the wet. I have never read an account of these worthy blacks, whose civility, kindness, and honesty will compare favorably with those of more civilized people. The Bagers live very much apart from the great African tribes, and keep up their race by intermarriage. The language is peculiar, and altogether devoid of that Italian softness that makes the Soosoo so musical. Having a week or two of perfect leisure, I determined to set out in a canoe to visit one of these establishments, especially as no intelligence had reached me for some time from one of my country traders who had been dispatched thither with an invoice of goods to purchase palm-oil. My canoe was comfortably fitted with a waterproof awning, and provisioned for a week. A tedious pull along the coast and through the dangerous surf, brought us to the narrow creek through whose marshy mesh of _mangroves_ we squeezed our canoe to the bank. Even after landing, we waded a considerable distance through marsh before we reached the solid land. The Bager town stood some hundred yards from the landing, at the end of a desolate savanna, whose lonely waste spread as far as the eye could reach. The village itself seemed quite deserted, so that I had difficulty in finding "the oldest inhabitant," who invariably stays at home and acts the part of chieftain. This venerable personage welcomed me with great cordiality; and, having made my _dantica_, or, in other words, declared the purpose of my visit, I desired to be shown the trader's house. The patriarch led me at once to a hut, whose miserable thatch was supported by four posts. Here I recognized a large chest, a rum cask, and the grass hammock of my agent. I was rather exasperated to find my property thus neglected and exposed, and began venting my wrath in no seemly terms on the delinquent clerk, when my conductor laid his hand gently on my sleeve, and said there was no need to blame him. "This," continued he, "is his house; here your property is sheltered from sun and rain; and, among the Bagers, whenever your goods are protected from the elements, they are safe from every danger. Your man has gone across the plain to a neighboring town for oil; to-night he will be back;--in the mean time, look at your goods!" I opened the chest, which, to my surprise, was unlocked, and found it nearly full of the merchandise I had placed in it. I shook the cask, and its weight seemed hardly diminished. I turned the spigot, and lo! the rum trickled on my feet. Hard-by was a temporary shed, filled to the roof with hides and casks of palm-oil, all of which, the gray-beard declared was my property. Whilst making this inspection, I have no doubt the expression of my face indicated a good deal of wonder, for I saw the old man smile complacently as he followed me with his quiet eye. "Good!" said the chief, "it is all there,--is it not? We Bagers are neither Soosoos, Mandingoes, Foulahs, nor _White-men_, that the goods of a stranger are not safe in our towns! We work for a living; we want little; big ships never come to us, and we neither steal from our guests nor go to war to sell one another!" The conversation, I thought, was becoming a little personal; and, with a gesture of impatience, I put a stop to it. On second thoughts, however, I turned abruptly round, and shaking the noble savage's hand with a vigor that made him wince, presented him with a piece of cloth. Had Diogenes visited Africa in search of his man, it is by no means unlikely that he might have extinguished his lamp among the Bagers! * * * * * It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when I arrived in the town, which, as I before observed, seemed quite deserted, except by a dozen or two ebony antiquities, who crawled into the sunshine when they learned the advent of a stranger. The young people were absent gathering palm nuts in a neighboring grove. A couple of hours before sundown, my trader returned; and, shortly after, the merry gang of villagers made their appearance, laughing, singing, dancing, and laden with fruit. As soon as the gossips announced the arrival of a white man during their absence, the little hut that had been hospitably assigned me was surrounded by a crowd, five or six deep, of men, women, and children. The pressure was so close and sudden that I was almost stifled. Finding they would not depart until I made myself visible, I emerged from concealment and shook hands with nearly all. The women, in particular, insisted on gratifying themselves with a _sumboo_ or smell at my face,--which is the native's kiss,--and folded their long black arms in an embrace of my neck, threatening peril to my shirt with their oiled and dusty flesh. However, I noticed so much _bonhommie_ among the happy crew that my heart would not allow me to repulse them; so I kissed the youngest and shunned the crones. In token of my good will, I led a dozen or more of the prettiest to the rum-barrel, and made them happy for the night. When the townsfolks had comfortably nestled themselves in their hovels, the old chief, with a show of some formality, presented me a heavy ram-goat, distinguished for its formidable head-ornaments, which, he said, was offered as a _bonne-bouche_, for my supper. He then sent a crier through the town, informing the women that a white stranger would be their guest during the night; and, in less than half an hour, my hut was visited by most of the village dames and damsels. One brought a pint of rice; another some roots of _cassava_; another, a few spoonfuls of palm-oil; another a bunch of peppers; while the oldest lady of the party made herself particularly remarkable by the gift of a splendid fowl. In fact, the crier had hardly gone his rounds, before my mat was filled with the voluntary contributions of the villagers; and the wants, not only of myself but of my eight rowers, completely supplied. There was nothing peculiar in this exhibition of hospitality, on account of my nationality. It was the mere fulfilment of a Bager law; and the poorest _black stranger_ would have shared the rite as well as myself. I could not help thinking that I might have travelled from one end of England or America to the other, without meeting a Bager _welcome_. Indeed, it seemed somewhat questionable, whether it were better for the English to civilize Africa, or for the Bagers to send missionaries to their brethren in Britain! These reflections, however, did not spoil my appetite, for I confess a feeling of unusual content and relish when the patriarch sat down with me before the covered bowls prepared for our supper. But, alas! for human hopes and tastes! As I lifted the lid from the vessel containing the steaming stew, its powerful fragrance announced the remains of that venerable quadruped with which I had been welcomed. It was probably not quite in etiquette among the Bagers to decline the stew, yet, had starvation depended on it, I could not have touched a morsel. Accordingly, I forbore the mess and made free with the rice, seasoning it well with salt and peppers. But my amiable landlord was resolved that I should not go to rest with such penitential fare, and ordered one of his wives to bring her supper to my lodge. A taste of the dish satisfied me that it was edible, though intensely peppered. I ate with the appetite of an alderman, nor was it till two days after that my trader informed me I had supped so heartily on the spareribs of an alligator! It was well that the hours of digestion had gone by, for though partial to the chase, I had never loved "water fowl" of so wild a character. When supper was over, I escaped from the hut to breathe a little fresh air before retiring for the night. Hardly had I put my head outside when I found myself literally inhaling the mosquitoes that swarmed at nightfall over these marshy flats. I took it for granted that there was to be no rest for me in darkness among the Bagers; but, when I mentioned my trouble to the chief, he told me that another hut had already been provided for my sleeping quarters, where my bed was made of certain green and odorous leaves which are antidotes to mosquitoes. After a little more chat, he offered to guide me to the hovel, a low, thickly matted bower, through whose single aperture I crawled on hands and knees. As soon as I was in, the entrance was closed, and although I felt very much as if packed in my grave, I slept an unbroken sleep till day-dawn.[D] My return to the Rio Pongo was attended with considerable danger, yet I did not regret the trial of my spirit, as it enabled me to see a phase of African character which otherwise might have been missed. After passing two days among the Bagers, I departed once more in my canoe, impelled by the stout muscles of the Kroomen. The breeze freshened as we passed from the river's mouth across the boiling surf of the bar, but, when we got fairly to sea, I found the Atlantic so vexed by the rising gale, that, in spite of waterproof awning and diligent bailing, we were several times near destruction. Still, I had great confidence in the native boatmen, whose skill in their skiffs is quite as great as their dexterity when naked in the water. I had often witnessed their agility as they escaped from capsized boats on the surf of our bar; and often had I rewarded them with a dram, when they came, as from a frolic, dripping and laughing to the beach. When night began to fall around us the storm increased, and I could detect, by the low chatter and anxious looks of the rowers, that they were alarmed. As far as my eye reached landward, I could descry nothing but a continuous reef on which the chafed sea was dashing furiously in columns of the densest spray. Of course I felt that it was not my duty, nor would it be prudent, to undertake the guidance of the canoe in such circumstances. Yet, I confess that a shudder ran through my nerves when I saw my "head-man" suddenly change our course and steer the skiff directly towards the rocks. On she bounded like a racer. The sea through which they urged her foamed like a caldron with the rebounding surf. Nothing but wave-lashed rock was before us. At last I could detect a narrow gap in the iron wall, which was filled with surges in the heaviest swells. We approached it, and paused at the distance of fifty feet. A wave had just burst through the chasm like a storming army. We waited for the succeeding lull. All hands laid still,--not a word was spoken or paddle dipped. Then came the next enormous swell under our stern;--the oars flew like lightning;--the canoe rose as a feather on the crest of the surf;--in a moment she shot through the cleft and reposed in smooth water near the shore. As we sped through the gap, I might have touched the rocks on both sides with my extended arms! Such is the skill and daring of Kroomen. FOOTNOTE: [D] These Bagers are remarkable for their honesty, as I was convinced by several anecdotes related, during my stay in this village, by my trading clerk. He took me to a neighboring lemon-tree, and exhibited an English brass steelyard hanging on its branches, which had been left there by a mulatto merchant from Sierra Leone, who died in the town on a trading trip. This article, with a chest half full of goods, deposited in the "palaver-house," had been kept securely more than twelve years in expectation that some of his friends would send for them from the colony. The Bagers, I was told, have no _jujus_, _fetiches_, or _gree-grees_;--they worship no god or evil spirit;--their dead are buried without tears or ceremony;--and their hereafter in eternal oblivion. The males of this tribe are of middling size and deep black color; broad-shouldered, but neither brave nor warlike. They keep aloof from other tribes, and by a Fullah law, are protected from foreign violence in consequence of their occupation as salt-makers, which is regarded by the interior natives as one of the most useful trades. Their fondness for palm-oil and the little work they are compelled to perform, make them generally indolent. Their dress is a single handkerchief, or a strip of country cloth four or five inches wide, most carefully put on. The young women have none of the sylphlike appearance of the Mandingoes or Soosoos. They work hard and use palm-oil plentifully both internally and externally, so that their relaxed flesh is bloated like blubber. Both sexes shave their heads, and adorn their noses and lower lips with rings, while they penetrate their ears with porcupine quills or sticks. _They neither sell nor buy each other_, though they acquire children of both sexes from other tribes, and adopt them into their own, or dispose of them if not suitable. Their avails of work are commonly divided; so the Bagers may be said to resemble the Mormons in polygamy, the Fourierites in community, but to exceed both in honesty! I am sorry that their nobler characteristics have so few imitators among the other tribes of Africa. CHAPTER XV. When the rains began to slacken, a petty caravan now and then straggled towards the coast; but, as I was only a new comer in the region, and not possessed of abundant means, I enjoyed a slender share of the trade. Still I consoled myself with the hope of better luck in the dry season. In the mean time, however, I not only heard of Joseph's safe arrival at Matanzas, but received a clerk whom he dispatched to dwell in Kambia while I visited the interior. Moreover, I built a boat, and sent her to Sierra Leone with a cargo of palm-oil, to be exchanged for British goods; and, finally, during my perfect leisure, I went to work with diligence _to study_ the trade in which fortune seemed to have cast my lot. It would be a task of many pages if I attempted to give a full account of the origin and causes of _slavery in Africa_. As a national institution, it seems to have existed always. Africans have been bondsmen every where: and the oldest monuments bear their images linked with menial toils and absolute servitude. Still, I have no hesitation in saying, that three fourths of the slaves _sent abroad_ from Africa are the fruit of native wars, fomented by the avarice and temptation of our own race. I cannot exculpate any commercial nation from this sweeping censure. We stimulate the negro's passions by the introduction of wants and fancies never dreamed of by the simple native, while slavery was an institution of domestic need and comfort alone. But what was once a luxury has now ripened into an absolute necessity; so that MAN, _in truth, has become the coin of Africa, and the "legal tender" of a brutal trade_. England, to-day, with all her philanthropy, sends, under the cross of St. George, to convenient magazines of _lawful commerce_ on the coast, her Birmingham muskets, Manchester cottons, and Liverpool lead, all of which are righteously swapped at Sierra Leone, Acra, and on the Gold coast, for Spanish or Brazilian bills on London. Yet, what British merchant does not know the traffic on which those bills are founded, and for whose support his wares are purchased? France, with her _bonnet rouge_ and fraternity, dispatches her Rouen cottons, Marseilles brandies, flimsy taffetas, and indescribable variety of tinsel gewgaws. Philosophic Germany demands a slice for her looking-glasses and beads; while multitudes of our own worthy traders, who would hang a slaver as a pirate _when caught_, do not hesitate to supply him indirectly with tobacco, powder, cotton, Yankee rum, and New England notions, in order to bait the trap in which he _may_ be caught! It is the temptation of these things, I repeat, that feeds the slave-making wars of Africa, and forms the human basis of those admirable bills of exchange. I did not intend to write a homily on Ethiopian commerce when I begun this chapter; but, on reviewing the substantial motives of the traffic, I could not escape a statement which tells its own tale, and is as unquestionable as the facts of verified history. Such, then, may be said to be the _predominating_ influence that supports the African slave-trade; yet, if commerce of all kinds were forbidden with that continent, the customs and laws of the natives would still encourage slavery as a domestic affair, though, of course, in a very modified degree. The rancorous family quarrels among tribes and parts of tribes, will always promote conflicts that resemble the forays of our feudal ancestors, while the captives made therein will invariably become serfs. Besides this, the financial genius of Africa, instead of devising bank notes or the precious metals as a circulating medium, has from time immemorial, declared that a human creature,--_the true representative and embodiment of labor_,--is the most valuable article on earth. A man, therefore, becomes the standard of prices. A slave is a note of hand, that may be discounted or pawned; he is a bill of exchange that carries himself to his destination and pays a debt bodily; he is a tax that walks corporeally into the chieftain's treasury. Thus, slavery is not likely to be surrendered by the negroes themselves as a national institution. Their social interests will continue to maintain hereditary bondage; they will send the felon and the captive to foreign _barracoons_; and they will sentence to domestic servitude the orphans of culprits, disorderly children, gamblers, witches, vagrants, cripples, insolvents, the deaf, the mute, the barren, and the faithless. Five-sixths of the population is in chains.[3] To facilitate the sale of these various unfortunates or malefactors, there exists among the Africans a numerous class of brokers, who are as skilful in their traffic as the jockeys of civilized lands. These adroit scoundrels rove the country in search of objects to suit different patrons. They supply the body-guard of princes; procure especial tribes for personal attendants; furnish laborers for farms; fill the _harems_ of debauchees; pay or collect debts in flesh; and in cases of emergency take the place of bailiffs, to kidnap under the name of sequestration. If a native king lacks cloth, arms, powder, balls, tobacco, rum, or salt, and does not trade personally with the factories on the beach, he employs one of these dexterous gentry to effect the barter; and thus both British cotton and Yankee rum ascend the rivers from the second hands into which they have passed, while the slave approaches the coast to become the ebony basis of a bill of exchange! It has sometimes struck me as odd, how the extremes of society almost meet on similar principles; and how much some African short-comings resemble the conceded civilizations of other lands! FOOTNOTE: [3] Dr. Lugenbeel's "Sketches of Liberia.": 1853. p. 45, 2d ed. CHAPTER XVI. The month of November, 1827, brought the wished-for "dry season;" and with it came a message from the leader of a caravan, that, at the full of the moon, he would halt in my village with all the produce he could impress. The runner represented his master as bearing a missive from his beloved nephew Ahmah-de-Bellah, and declared that he only lingered on the path to swell his caravan for the profit of my coffers. I did not let the day pass before I sent an interpreter to greet my promised guest with suitable presents; while I took advantage of his delay to build a neat cottage for his reception, inasmuch as no Fullah Mahometan will abide beneath the same roof with an infidel. I furnished the establishment, according to their taste, with green hides and several fresh mats. True to his word, Mami-de-Yong made known his arrival in my neighborhood on the day when the planet attained its full diameter. The moment the pious Mussulman, from the high hills in the rear of my settlement, espied the river winding to the sea, he turned to the east, and raising his arms to heaven, and extending them towards Mecca, gave thanks for his safe arrival on the beach. After repeated genuflections, in which the earth was touched by his prostrate forehead, he arose, and taking the path towards Kambia, struck up a loud chant in honor of the prophet, in which he was joined by the interminable procession. It was quite an imposing sight--this Oriental parade and barbaric pomp. My native landlord, proud of the occasion, as well as of his Mahometan progenitors, joined in the display. As the train approached my establishment, I ordered repeated salutes in honor of the stranger, and as I had no minstrels or music to welcome the Fullah, I commanded my master of ceremonies to conceal the deficiency by plenty of smoke and a dozen more rounds of rattling musketry. This was the first caravan and the first leader of absolutely royal pretensions that visited my settlement; so I lined my piazza with mats, put a body-guard under arms behind me, decorated the front with fancy flags, and opposite the stool where I took my seat, caused a pure white sheepskin of finest wool to be spread for the accommodation of the noble savage. Advancing to the steps of my dwelling, I stood uncovered as the Fullah approached and tendered me a silver-mounted gazelle-horn snuff-box--the credential by which Ahmah-de-Bellah had agreed to certify the mission. Receiving the token with a _salaam_, I carried it reverently to my forehead, and passed it to Ali-Ninpha, who, on this occasion, played the part of my scribe. The ceremony over, we took him by the hands and led him to his allotted sheepskin, while, with a bow, I returned to my stool. According to "country custom," Mami-de-Yong then began the _dantica_, or exposition of purposes, first of all invoking ALLAH to witness his honor and sincerity. "Not only," said the Mussulman, "am I the bearer of a greeting from my dear nephew Ahmah-de-Bellah, but I am an envoy from my royal master the Ali-Mami, of Footha-Yallon, who, at his son's desire, has sent me with an escort to conduct you on your promised visit to Timbo. During your absence, my lord has commanded us to dwell in your stead at Kambia, so that your property may be safe from the Mulatto Mongo of Bangalang, whose malice towards your person has been heard of even among our distant hills!" The latter portion of this message somewhat surprised me, for though my relations with Mongo John were by no means amicable, I did not imagine that the story of our rupture had spread so far, or been received with so much sympathy. Accordingly, when Mami-de-Yong finished his message, I approached him with thanks for his master's interest in my welfare; and, placing Ahmah-de-Bellah's Koran--which I had previously wrapped in a white napkin--in his hands, as a token of the nephew's friendship, I retired once more to my seat. As soon as the holy book appeared from the folds, Mami-de-Yong drew a breath of surprise, and striking his breast, fell on his knees with his head on the ground, where he remained for several minutes apparently in rapt devotion. As he rose--his forehead sprinkled with dust, and his eyes sparkling with tears--he opened the volume, and pointed out to me and his people his own handwriting, which he translated to signify that "Mami-de-Yong gave this word of God to Ahmah-de-Bellah, his kinsman." At the reading of the sentence, all the Fullahs shouted, "Glory to Allah and Mahomet his Prophet!" Then, coming forward again to the chief, I laid my hand on the Koran, and swore by the help of God, to accept the invitation of the great king of Footha-Yallon. This terminated the ceremonial reception, after which I hastened to conduct Mami-de-Yong to his quarters, where I presented him with a sparkling new kettle and an inkstand, letting him understand, moreover, I was specially anxious to know that all the wants of his attendants in the caravan were completely satisfied. Next morning early, I remembered the joy of his nephew Ahmah-de-Bellah, when I first treated him to _coffee_; and determined to welcome the chief, as soon as he came forth from his ablutions to prayers, with a cup distilled from the fragrant berry. I could not have hit upon a luxury more gratifying to the old gentleman. Thirty years before had he drank it in Timbuctoo, where it is used, he said, by the Moses-people (meaning the Hebrews), with milk and honey; and its delicious aroma brought the well-remembered taste to his lips ere they touched the sable fluid. Long before Mami-de-Yong's arrival, his fame as a learned "book-man" and extensive traveller preceded him, so that when he mentioned his travel to Timbuctoo, I begged him to give me some account of that "capital of capitals," as the Africans call it. The royal messenger promised to comply as soon as he finished the morning lessons of the caravan's children. His quarters were filled with a dozen or more of young Fullahs and Mandingoes squatted around a fire, while the prince sat apart in a corner with inkstand, writing reeds, and a pile of old manuscripts. Ali-Ninpha, our backsliding Mahometan, stood by, pretending devoted attention to Mami's precepts and the Prophet's versus. The sinner was a scrupulous follower in the presence of the faithful; but when their backs were turned, I know few who relished a porker more lusciously, or avoided water with more scrupulous care. Yet why should I scoff at poor Ali? Joseph and I had done our best to _civilize_ him! Mami-de-Yong apologized for the completion of his daily task in my presence, and went on with his instruction, while the pupils wrote down notes, on wooden slabs, with reeds and a fluid made of powder dissolved in water. I am sorry to say that these Ethiopian Mahometans are but poor scholars. Their entire instruction amounts to little more than the Koran, and when they happen to write or receive a letter, its interpretation is a matter over which many an hour is toilsomely spent. Mami-de-Yong, however, was superior to most of his countrymen; and, in fact, I must record him in my narrative as the most erudite Negro I ever encountered. HIS TRIP TO TIMBUCTOO. True to his promise, the envoy came to my piazza, as soon as school was over, and squatting sociably on our mats and sheepskins, with a plentiful supply of pipes and tobacco, we formed as pleasant a little party as was assembled that day on the banks of the Rio Pongo. Ali-Ninpha acted as interpreter, having prepared himself for the long-winded task by a preliminary dram from my private locker, out of sight of the noble Mahometan. Invoking the Lord's name,--as is usual among Mussulmen,--Mami-de-Yong took a long whiff at his pipe, and, receiving from his servant a small bag of fine sand, spread it smoothly on the floor, leaving the mass about a quarter of an inch in thickness. This was his black-board, designed to serve for the delineation of his journey. On the westernmost margin of his sand, he dotted a point with his finger for the starting at Timbo. As he proceeded with his track over Africa towards the grand capital, he marked the outlines of the principal territories, and spotted the remarkable towns through which he passed. By a thick or thin line, he denoted the large rivers and small streams that intercepted his path, while he heaved up the sand into heaps to represent a mountain, or smoothed it into perfect levels to imitate the broad prairies and savannas of the interior. When he came to a dense forest, his snuff-box was called in requisition, and a pinch or two judiciously sprinkled, stood for the monarchs of the wood. Like all Oriental story-tellers, Mami proved rather prolix. His tale was nearly as long as his travel. He insisted on describing his reception at every village. At each river he had his story of difficulty and danger in constructing rafts or building bridges. He counted the minutes he lost in awaiting the diminution of floods. Anon, he would catalogue the various fish with which a famous river teemed; and, when he got fairly into the woods, there was no end of adventures and hairbreadth escapes from alligators, elephants, anacondas, vipers, and the fatal tape snake, whose bite is certain death. In the mountains he encountered wolves, wild asses, hyænas, zebras, and eagles. In fact, the whole morning glided away with a geographical, zoological, and statistical overture to his tour; so that, when the hour of prayer and ablution arrived, Mami-de-Yong had not yet reached Timbuctoo! The double rite of cleanliness and faith required him to pause in his narrative; and, apologizing for the interruption, he left a slave to guard the map while he retired to perform his religious services. When the noble Fullah got back, I had a nice lunch prepared on a napkin in the neighborhood of his diagram, so that he could munch his biscuits and sugar without halting on his path. Before he began, however, I took the liberty to offer a hint about the precious value of time in this brief life of ours, whilst I asked a question or two about the "capital of capitals," to indicate my eagerness to enter the walls of Timbuctoo. Mami-de-Yong, who was a man of tact as well as humor, smiled at my insinuation, and apologizing like a Christian for the natural tediousness of all old travellers, skipped a degree or two of the wilderness, and at once stuck his buffalo-horn snuff-box into the eastern margin of the sand, to indicate that he was at his journey's end. Mami had visited many of the European colonies and Moorish kingdoms on the north coast of Africa, so that he enjoyed the advantage of comparison, and, of course, was not stupefied by the untravelled ignorance of Africans who consider Timbuctoo a combination of Paris and paradise. Indeed, he did not presume, like most of the Mandingo chiefs, to prefer it to Senegal or Sierra Leone. He confessed that the royal palace was nothing but a vast inclosure of mud walls, built without taste or symmetry, within whose labyrinthine mesh there were numerous buildings for the wives, children, and kindred of the sovereign. If the royal palace of Timbuctoo was of _such_ a character,--"What," said he, "were the dwellings of nobles and townsfolk?" The streets were paths;--the stores were shops;--the suburb of an European colony was _superior_ to their best display! The markets of Timbuctoo, alone, secured his admiration. Every week they were thronged with traders, dealers, peddlers and merchants, who either dwelt in the neighboring kingdoms, or came from afar with slaves and produce. Moors and Israelites, from the north-east, were the most eminent and opulent merchants; and among them he counted a travelling class, crowned with peculiar turbans, whom he called "Joseph's-people," or, in all likelihood, Armenians. The prince had no mercy on the government of this influential realm. Strangers, he said, were watched and taxed. Indeed, he spoke of it with the peculiar love that we would suppose a Hungarian might bear towards Austria, or a Milanese to the inquisitorial powers of Lombardy. In fact, I found that, despite of its architectural meanness, Timbuctoo was a great central mart for exchange, and that commercial men as well as the innumerable petty kings, frequented it not only for the abundant mineral salt in its vicinity, _but because they could exchange their slaves for foreign merchandise_. I asked the Fullah why he preferred the markets of Timbuctoo to the well-stocked stores of regular European settlements on a coast which was reached with so much more ease than this core of Africa? "Ah!" said the astute trafficker, "no market is a good one for the genuine African, in which he cannot openly exchange his _blacks_ for whatever the original owner or importer can sell without fear! _Slaves, Don Téodore, are our money!_" The answer solved in my mind one of the political problems in the question of African civilization, which I shall probably develope in the course of this narrative. CHAPTER XVII. Having completed the mercantile negotiations of the caravan, and made my personal arrangements for a protracted absence, I put the noble Fullah in charge of my establishment, with special charges to my retainers, clerks, runners, and villagers, to regard the Mami as my second self. I thought it well, moreover, before I plunged into the wilderness,--leaving my worldly goods and worldly prospects in charge of a Mussulman stranger,--to row down to Bangalang for a parting chat with Mongo John, in which I might sound the veteran as to his feeling and projects. Ormond was in trouble as soon as I appeared. He was willing enough that I might perish by treachery on the roadside, yet he was extremely reluctant that I should penetrate Africa and make alliances which should give me superiority over the monopolists of the beach. I saw these things passing through his jealous heart as we talked together with uncordial civility. At parting I told the Mongo, for the first time, that I was sure my establishment would not go to decay or suffer harm in my absence, inasmuch as that powerful Fullah, the Ali-Mami of Footha-Yallon had deputed a lieutenant to watch Kambia while I travelled, and that he would occupy my village with his chosen warriors. The mulatto started with surprise as I finished, and abruptly left the apartment in silence. I slept well that night, notwithstanding the Mongo's displeasure. My confidence in the Fullah was perfect. Stranger as he was, I had an instinctive reliance on his protection of my home, and his guardianship of my person through the wilderness. At day-dawn I was up. It was a fresh and glorious morning. As nature awoke in the woods of that primitive world, the mists stole off from the surface of the water; and, as the first rays shot through the glistening dew of the prodigious vegetation, a thousand birds sent forth their songs as if to welcome me into their realm of unknown paths. After a hearty breakfast my Spanish clerk was furnished with minute instructions in writing, and, at the last moment, I presented the Fullah chief to my people as a temporary master to whom they were to pay implicit obedience for his generous protection. By ten o'clock, my caravan was in motion. It consisted of thirty individuals deputed by Ahmah-de-Bellah, headed by one of his relations as captain. Ten of my own servants were assigned to carry baggage, merchandise, and provisions; while Ali-Ninpha, two interpreters, my body-servant, a waiter, and a hunter, composed my immediate guard. In all, there were about forty-five persons. When we were starting, Mami-de-Yong approached to "snap fingers," and put in my hands a verse of the Koran in his master's handwriting,--"hospitality to the wearied stranger is the road to heaven,"--which was to serve me as a passport among all good Mahometans. If I had time, no doubt I would have thought how much more Christian this document was than the formal paper with which we are fortified by "foreign offices" and "state departments," when we go abroad from civilized lands;--but, before I could summon so much sentiment, the Fullah chief stooped to the earth, and filling his hands with dust, sprinkled it over our heads, in token of a prosperous journey. Then, prostrating himself with his head on the ground, he bade us "go our way!" I believe I have already said that even the best of African roads are no better than goat-paths, and barely sufficient for the passage of a single traveller. Accordingly, our train marched off in single file. Two men, cutlass in hand, armed, besides, with loaded muskets, went in advance not only to scour the way and warn us of danger, but to cut the branches and briers that soon impede an untravelled path in this prolific land. They marched within hail of the caravan, and shouted whenever we approached bee-trees, ant-hills, hornet-nests, reptiles, or any of the Ethiopian perils that are unheard of in our American forests. Behind these pioneers, came the porters with food and luggage; the centre of the caravan was made up of women, children, guards, and followers; while the rear was commanded by myself and the chiefs, who, whips in hand, found it sometimes beneficial to stimulate the steps of stragglers. As we crossed the neighboring Soosoo towns, our imposing train was saluted with discharges of musketry, while crowds of women and children followed their "_cupy_," or "white-man," to bid him farewell on the border of the settlement. For a day or two our road passed through a rolling country, interspersed with forests, cultivated fields, and African villages, in which we were welcomed by the generous chiefs with _bungees_, or trifling gifts, in token of amity. Used to the scant exercise of a lazy dweller on the coast, whose migrations are confined to a journey from his house to the landing, and from the landing to his house, it required some time to habituate me once more to walking. By degrees, however, I overcame the foot-sore weariness that wrapped me in perfect lassitude when I sank into my hammock on the first night of travel. However, as we became better acquainted with each other and with wood-life, we tripped along merrily in the shadowy silence of the forest,--singing, jesting, and praising Allah. Even the slaves were relaxed into familiarity never permitted in the towns; while masters would sometimes be seen relieving the servants by bearing their burdens. At nightfall the women brought water, cooked food, and distributed rations; so that, after four days pleasant wayfaring in a gentle trot, our dusty caravan halted at sunset before the closed gates of a fortified town belonging to Ibrahim Ali, the Mandingo chief of Kya. It was some time before our shouts and beating on the gates aroused the watchman to answer our appeal, for it was the hour of prayer, and Ibrahim was at his devotions. At last, pestered by their dalliance, I fired my double-barrelled gun, whose loud report I knew was more likely to reach the ear of a praying Mussulman. I did not reckon improperly, for hardly had the echoes died away before the great war-drum of the town was rattled, while a voice from a loophole demanded our business. I left the negotiation for our entry to the Fullah chief, who forthwith answered that "the _Ali-Mami's_ caravan, laden with goods, demanded hospitality;" while Ali-Ninpha informed the questioner, that Don Téodore, the "white man of Kambia," craved admittance to the presence of Ibrahim the faithful. In a short time the wicket creaked, and Ibrahim himself put forth his head to welcome the strangers, and to admit them, one by one, into the town. His reception of myself and Ali-Ninpha was extremely cordial; but the Fullah chief was addressed with cold formality, for the Mandingoes have but little patience with the well-known haughtiness of their national rivals. Ali-Ninpha had been Ibrahim's playmate before he migrated to the coast. Their friendship still existed in primitive sincerity, and the chieftain's highest ambition was to honor the companion and guest of his friend. Accordingly, his wives and females were summoned to prepare my quarters with comfort and luxury. The best house was chosen for my lodging. The earthen floor was spread with mats. Hides were stretched on _adobe_ couches, and a fire was kindled to purify the atmosphere. Pipes were furnished my companions; and, while a hammock was slung for my repose before supper, a chosen henchman was dispatched to seek the fattest sheep for that important meal. Ibrahim posted sentinels around my hut, so that my slumbers were uninterrupted, until Ali-Ninpha roused me with the pleasant news that the bowls of rice and stews were smoking on the mat in the chamber of Ibrahim himself. Ninpha knew my tastes and superintended the cook. He had often jested at the "white man's folly," when my stomach turned at some disgusting dish of the country; so that the pure roasts and broils of well-known pieces slipped down my throat with the appetite of a trooper. While these messes were under discussion, the savory steam of a rich stew with a creamy sauce saluted my nostrils, and, without asking leave, I plunged my spoon into a dish that stood before my entertainers, and seemed prepared exclusively for themselves. In a moment I was invited to partake of the _bonne-bouche_; and so delicious did I find it, that, even at this distance of time, my mouth waters when I remember the forced-meat balls of mutton, minced with roasted ground-nuts, that I devoured that night in the Mandingo town of Kya. But the best of feasts is dull work without an enlivening bowl. Water alone--pure and cool as it was in this hilly region--did not quench our thirst. Besides this, I recollected the fondness of my landlord, Ali-Ninpha, for strong distillations, and I guessed that his playmate might indulge, at least privately, in a taste for similar libations. I spoke, therefore, of "cordial bitters,"--(a name not unfamiliar even to the most temperate Christians, in defence of flatulent stomachs,)--and at the same time producing my travelling canteen of Otard's best, applied it to the nostrils of the pair. I know not how it happened, but before I could warn the Mahometans of the risk they incurred, the lips of the bottle slid from their noses to their mouths, while upheaved elbows long sustained in air, gave notice that the flask was relishing and the draft "good for their complaints." Indeed, so appetizing was the liquor, that another ground-nut stew was demanded; and, of course, another bottle was required to allay its dyspeptic qualities. By degrees, the brandy did its work on the worthy Mahometans. While it restored Ali-Ninpha to his early faith, and brought him piously to his knees with prayers to Allah, it had a contrary effect on Ibrahim, whom it rendered wild and generous. Every thing was mine;--house, lands, slaves, and children. He dwelt rapturously on the beauty of his wives, and kissed Ali-Ninpha in mistake for one of them. This only rendered the apostate more devout than ever, and set him roaring invocations like a muezzin from a minaret. In the midst of these orgies, I stole off at midnight, and was escorted by my servant to a delicious hammock. It was day-dawn when the caravan's crier aroused me, as he stood on a house-top calling the faithful to prayer previous to our departure. Before I could stir, Ali-Ninpha, haggard, sick, and crest-fallen, from his debauch, rolled into my chamber, and begged the postponement of our departure, as it was impossible for _Ibrahim Ali_ to appear, being perfectly vanquished by--"the bitters!" The poor devil hiccoughed between his words, and so earnestly and with so many bodily gyrations implored my interference with the Fullah guide, that I saw at once he was in no condition to travel. As the caravan was my personal escort and designed exclusively for my convenience, I did not hesitate to command a halt, especially as I was in some measure the cause of my landlord's malady. Accordingly, I tied a kerchief round my head, covered myself with a cloak, and leaning very lackadaisically on the edge of my hammock, sent for the Fullah chief. I moaned with pain as he approached, and, declaring that I was prostrated by sudden fever, hoped he would indulge me by countermanding the order for our march. I do not know whether the worthy Mussulman understood my case or believed my fever, but the result was precisely the same, for he assented to my request like a gentleman, and expressed the deepest sympathy with my sufferings. His next concern was for my cure. True to the superstition and bigotry of his country, the good-natured Fullah insisted on taking the management of matters into his own hands, and forthwith prescribed a dose from the Koran, diluted in water, which he declared was a specific remedy for my complaint. I smiled at the idea of making a drug of divinity, but as I knew that homoeopathy was harmless under the circumstances, I requested the Fullah to prepare his physic on the spot. The chief immediately brought his Koran, and turning over the leaves attentively for some time, at last hit on the appropriate verse, which he wrote down on a board with gunpowder ink, which he washed off into a bowl with clean water. This was given me to swallow, and the Mahometan left me to the operation of his religious charm, with special directions to the servant to allow no one to disturb my rest. I have no doubt that the Fullah was somewhat of a quiz, and thought a chapter in his Bible a capital lesson after a reckless debauch; so I ordered my door to be barricaded, and slept like a dormouse, until Ibrahim and Ali-Ninpha came thundering at the portal long after mid-day. They were sadly chopfallen. Penitence spoke from their aching brows; nor do I hesitate to believe they were devoutly sincere when they forswore "_bitters_" for the future. In order to allay suspicion, or quiet his conscience, the Fullah had been presented with a magnificent ram-goat, flanked by baskets of choicest rice. When I sallied forth into the town with the suffering sinners, I found the sun fast declining in the west, and, although my fever had left me, it was altogether too late to depart from the village on our journey. I mentioned to Ibrahim a report on the coast that his town was bordered by a sacred spring known as the DEVIL'S FOUNTAIN, and inquired whether daylight enough still remained to allow us a visit. The chief assented; and as in his generous fit last night, he had offered me a horse, I now claimed the gift, and quickly mounted in search of the aqueous demon. CHAPTER XVIII. Ah! what joy, after so many years, to be once more in the saddle in an open country, with a steed of fire and spirit bounding beneath my exhilarated frame! It was long before I could consent to obey the summons of our guide to follow him on the path. When the gates of Kya were behind, and the wider roads opened invitingly before me, I could not help giving rein to the mettlesome beast, as he dashed across the plain beneath the arching branches of magnificent cotton-woods. The solitude and the motion were both delightful. Never, since I last galloped from the _paseo_ to Atares, and from Atares to El Principe, overlooking the beautiful bay of Havana, and the distant outline of her purple sea, had I felt so gloriously the rush of joyous blood that careered through my veins like electric fire. Indeed, I know not how long I would have traversed the woods had not the path suddenly ended at a town, where my Arabian turned of his own accord, and dashed back along the road till I met my wondering companions. Having sobered both our bloods, I felt rather better prepared for a visit to the Satanic personage who was the object of our excursion. About two miles from Kya, we struck the foot of a steep hill, some three hundred feet in height, over whose shoulder we reached a deep and tangled dell, watered by a slender stream which was hemmed in by a profusion of shrubbery. Crossing the brook, we ascended the opposite declivity for a short distance till we approached a shelving precipice of rock, along whose slippery side the ledgelike path continued. I passed it at a bound, and instantly stood within the arched aperture of a deep cavern, whence a hot and sulphurous stream trickled slowly towards the ravine. This was the fountain, and the demon who presided over its source dwelt within the cave. Whilst I was examining the rocks to ascertain their quality, the guide apprised me that the impish proprietor of these waters was gifted with a "multitude of tongues," and, in all probability, would reply to me in my own, if I thought fit to address him. "Indeed," said the savage, "he will answer you _word for word_ and that, too, almost before you can shape your thought in language. Let us see if he is at home?" I called, in a loud voice, "KYA!" but as no reply followed, I perceived at once the wit of the imposture, and without waiting for him to place me, took my own position at a spot inside the cavern, where I knew the _echoes_ would be redoubled. "Now," said I, "I know the devil is at home, as well as you do;"--and, telling my people to listen, I bellowed, with all my might--"_caffra fure!_" "infernal black one!"--till the resounding rocks roared again with demoniac responses. In a moment the cavern was clear of every African; so that I amused myself letting off shrieks, howls, squeals, and pistols, until the affrighted natives peeped into the mouth of the cave, thinking the devil in reality had come for me in a double-breasted garment of thunder and lightning. I came forth, however, with a whole skin and so hearty a laugh, that the Africans seized my hands in token of congratulation, and looked at me with wonderment, as something greater than the devil himself. Without waiting for a commentary, I leaped on my Arab and darted down the hill. "And so," said I, when I got back to Kya, "dost thou in truth believe, beloved Ibrahim, that the devil dwells in those rocks of the sulphur stream?" "Why not, brother Theodore? Isn't the water poison? If you drink, will it not physic you? When animals lick it in the dry season, do they not die on the margin by scores? Now, a 'book-man' like you, my brother, knows well enough that _water_ alone can't kill; so that whenever it does, the devil _must_ be in it; and, moreover, is it not he who speaks in the cavern?" "Good," replied I; "but, pry'thee, dear Ibrahim, read me this riddle: if the devil gets into _water_ and kills, why don't he kill when he gets into '_bitters_?'" "Ah!" said the Ali--"you white men are infidels and scoffers!" as he laughed like a rollicking trooper, and led me, with his arm round my neck, into supper. "And yet, Don Téodore, don't forget the portable imp that you carry in that Yankee flask in your pocket!" We did not dispute the matter further. I had been long enough in Africa to find out that white men made themselves odious to the natives and created bitter enemies, by despising or ridiculing their errors; and as I was not abroad on a mission of civilization, I left matters just as I found them. When I was among the Mahometans, I was an excellent Mussulman, while, among the heathen, I affected considerable respect for their _jujus_, _gree-grees_, _fetiches_, _snakes_, _iguanas_, _alligators_, and wooden images. Ere we set forth next morning, my noble host caused a generous meal to be dispensed among the caravan. The breakfast consisted of boiled rice dried in the sun, and then boiled again with milk or water after being pounded finely in a mortar. This nutritive dish was liberally served; and, as a new Mongo, I was tendered an especial platter, flanked by copious bowls of cream and honey. It is true Mandingo etiquette, at the departure of an honored friend, for the Lord of the Town to escort him on his way to the first brook, drink of the water with the wayfarer, toast a prompt return, invoke Allah for a prosperous voyage, shake bands, and snap fingers, in token of friendly adieu. The host who tarries then takes post in the path, and, fixing his eyes on the departing guest, never stirs till the traveller is lost in the folds of the forest, or sinks behind the distant horizon. Such was the conduct of my friend Ibrahim on this occasion; nor was it all. It is a singular habit of these benighted people, to keep their word whenever they make a promise! I dare say it is one of the marks of their faint civilization; yet I am forced to record it as a striking fact. When I sallied forth from the gate of the town, I noticed a slave holding the horse I rode the day before to the Devil's fountain, ready caparisoned and groomed as for a journey. Being accompanied by Ibrahim on foot, I supposed the animal was designed for his return after our complimentary adieus. But when we had passed at least a mile beyond the parting brook, I _again_ encountered the beast, whose leader approached Ali-Ninpha, announcing the horse as a gift from his master to help me on my way. Ere I backed the blooded animal, an order was directed to my clerk at Kambia for two muskets, two kegs of powder, two pieces of blue cotton, and one hundred pounds of tobacco. I advised my official, moreover, to inclose in the core of the tobacco the stoutest flask he could find of our fourth proof "bitters!" CHAPTER XIX. The day was cloudy, but our trotting caravan did not exceed twenty miles in travel. In Africa things are done leisurely, for neither life, speculation, nor ambition is so exciting or exacting as to make any one in a hurry. I do not recollect to have ever seen an individual _in haste_ while I dwelt in the torrid clime. The shortest existence is long enough, when it is made up of sleep, slave-trade, and mastication. * * * * * At sunset no town was in sight; so it was resolved to bivouac in the forest on the margin of a beautiful brook, where rice, tea, and beef, were speedily boiled and smoking on the mats. When I was about to stretch my weary limbs for the night on the ground, my boy gave me another instance of Ibrahim's true and heedful hospitality, by producing a grass hammock he had secretly ordered to be packed among my baggage. With a hammock and a horse I was on velvet in the forest! Delicious sleep curtained my swinging couch between two splendid cotton-woods until midnight, when the arm of our Fullah chief was suddenly laid on my shoulder with a whispered call to prepare for defence or flight. As I leaped to the ground the caravan was already afoot, though the profoundest silence prevailed throughout the wary crowd. The watch announced strangers in our neighborhood, and two guides had been despatched immediately to reconnoitre the forest. This was all the information they could give me. The native party was fully prepared and alert with spears, lances, bows and arrows. I commanded my own men to re-prime their muskets, pistols, and rifles; so that, when the guides returned with a report that the intruders were supposed to form a party of fugitive slaves, we were ready for our customers. Their capture was promptly determined. Some proposed we should delay till daylight; but Ali-Ninpha, who was a sagacious old fighter, thought it best to complete the enterprise by night, especially as the savages kept up a smouldering fire in the midst of their sleeping group, which would serve to guide us. Our little band was immediately divided into two squads, one under the lead of the Fullah, and the other commanded by Ali-Ninpha. The Fullah was directed to make a circuit until he got in the rear of the slaves, while Ali-Ninpha, at a concerted signal, began to advance towards them from our camp. Half an hour probably elapsed before a faint call, like the cry of a child, was heard in the distant forest, upon which the squad of my landlord fell on all-fours, and crawled cautiously, like cats, through the short grass and brushwood, in the direction of the sound. The sleepers were quickly surrounded. The Mandingo gave the signal as soon as the ends of the two parties met and completed the circle; and, in an instant, every one of the runaways, except two, was in the grasp of a warrior, with a cord around his throat. Fourteen captives were brought into camp. The eldest of the party alleged that they belonged to the chief of Tamisso, a town on our path to Timbo, and were bound to the coast for sale. On their way to the _foreign_ factories, which they were exceedingly anxious to reach, their owner died, so that they came under the control of his brother, who threatened to change their destination, and sell them in the interior. In consequence of this they fled; and, as their master would surely slay them if restored to Tamisso, they besought us with tears not to take them thither. Another council was called, for we were touched by the earnest manner of the negroes. Ali-Ninpha and the Fullah were of opinion that the spoil was fairly ours, and should be divided in proportion to the men in both parties. Yet, as our road passed by the objectionable town, it was impossible to carry the slaves along, either in justice to ourselves or them. In this strait, which puzzled the Africans sorely, I came to their relief, by suggesting their dispatch to my factory with orders for the payment of their value in merchandise. The proposal was quickly assented to as the most feasible, and our fourteen captives were at once divided into two gangs, of seven each. Hoops of bamboo were soon clasped round their waists, while their hands were tied by stout ropes to the hoops. A long tether was then passed with a slip-knot through each rattan belt, so that the slaves were firmly secured to each other, while a small coil was employed to link them more securely in a band by their necks. These extreme precautions were needed, because we dared not diminish our party to guard the gang. Indeed, Ali-Ninpha was only allowed the two interpreters and four of my armed people as his escort to Kya, where, it was agreed, he should deliver the captives to Ibrahim, to be forwarded to my factory, while he hastened to rejoin us at the river Sanghu, where we designed tarrying. For three days we journeyed through the forest, passing occasionally along the beds of dried-up streams and across lonely tracts of wood which seemed never to have been penetrated, save by the solitary path we were treading. As we were anxious to be speedily reunited with our companions, our steps were not hastened; so that, at the end of the third day, we had not advanced more than thirty miles from the scene of capture, when we reached a small _Mandingo_ village, recently built by an upstart trader, who, with the common envy and pride of his tribe, gave our _Fullah_ caravan a frigid reception. A single hut was assigned to the chief and myself for a dwelling, and the rage of the Mahometan may readily be estimated by an insult that would doom him to sleep beneath the same roof with a Christian! I endeavored to avert an outburst by apprising the Mandingo that I was a bosom friend of Ali-Ninpha, his countryman and superior, and begged that he would suffer the "head-man" of our caravan to dwell in a house _alone_. But the impudent _parvenu_ sneered at my advice; "he knew no such person as Ali-Ninpha, and cared not a snap of his finger for a Fullah chief, or a beggarly white man!" My body-servant was standing by when this tart reply fell from the Mandingo's lips, and, before I could stop the impetuous youth, he answered the trader with as gross an insult as an African can utter. To this the Mandingo replied by a blow over the boy's shoulders with the flat of a cutlass; and, in a twinkling, there was a general shout for "rescue" from all my party who happened to witness the scene. Fullahs, Mandingoes, and Soosoos dashed to the spot, with spears, guns, and arrows. The Fullah chief seized my double-barrelled gun and followed the crowd; and when he reached the spot, seeing the trader still waving his cutlass in a menacing manner, he pulled both triggers at the inhospitable savage. Fortunately, however, it was always my custom on arriving in _friendly_ towns, to remove the copper caps from my weapons, so that, when the hammers fell, the gun was silent. Before the Fullah could club the instrument and prostrate the insulter, I rushed between them to prevent murder. This I was happy enough to succeed in; but I could not deter the rival tribe from binding the brute, hand and foot, to a post in the centre of his town, while the majority of our caravan cleared the settlement at once of its fifty or sixty inhabitants. Of course, we appropriated the dwellings as we pleased, and supplied ourselves with provisions. Moreover, it was thought preferable to wait in this village for Ali-Ninpha, than to proceed onwards towards the borders of the Sanghu. When he arrived, on the second day after the sad occurrence, he did not hesitate to exercise the prerogative of judgment and condemnation always claimed by superior chiefs over inferiors, whenever they consider themselves slighted or wronged. The process in this case was calmly and humanely formed. A regular trial was allowed the culprit. He was arraigned on three charges:--1. Want of hospitality; 2. Cursing and maltreating a Fullah chief and a white Mongo; 3. Disrespect to the name and authority of his countryman and superior, Ali-Ninpha. On all these articles the prisoner was found guilty; but, as there were neither slaves nor personal property by which the ruffian could be mulcted for his crimes, the tribunal adjudged him to be scourged with fifty lashes, and to have his "town-fence or stockade destroyed, never to be rebuilt." The blows were inflicted for the abuse, but the perpetual demolition of his defensive barrier was in punishment for refused hospitality. Such is the summary process by which social virtues are inculcated and enforced among these interior tribes of Africa! * * * * * It required three days for our refreshed caravan to reach the dry and precipitous bed of the Sanghu, which I found impossible to pass with my horse, in consequence of jagged rocks and immense boulders that covered its channel. But the men were resolved that my convenient animal should not be left behind. Accordingly, all hands went to work with alacrity on the trees, and in a day, they bridged the ravine with logs bound together by ropes made from twisted bark. Across this frail and swaying fabric I urged the horse with difficulty; but hardly had he reached the opposite bank, and recovered from his nervous tremor, when I was surprised by an evident anxiety in the beast to return to his swinging pathway. The guides declared it to be an instinctive warning of danger from wild beasts with which the region is filled; and, even while we spoke, two of the scouts who were in advance selecting ground for our camp, returned with the carcasses of a deer and leopard. Though meat had not passed our lips for five days, we were in no danger of starvation; the villages teemed with fruits and vegetables. Pine-apples, bananas, and a pulpy globe resembling the peach in form and flavor, quenched our thirst and satisfied our hunger. Besides these, our greedy natives foraged in the wilderness for nourishment unknown, or at least unused, by civilized folks. They found comfort in barks of various trees, as well as in buds, berries, and roots, some of which they devoured raw, while others were either boiled or made into palatable decoctions with water that gurgled from every hill. The broad valleys and open country supplied animal and vegetable "delicacies" which a white man would pass unnoticed. Many a time, when I was as hungry as a wolf, I found my vagabonds in a nook of the woods, luxuriating over a mess with the unctuous lips of aldermen; but when I came to analyze the stew, I generally found it to consist of a "witch's cauldron," copiously filled with snails, lizards, iguanas, frogs and alligators! CHAPTER XX. A journey to the interior of Africa would be a rural jaunt, were it not so often endangered by the perils of war. The African may fairly be characterized as a shepherd, whose pastoral life is varied by a little agriculture, and the conflicts into which he is seduced, either by family quarrels, or the natural passions of his blood. His country, though uncivilized, is not so absolutely wild as is generally supposed. The gradual extension of Mahometanism throughout the interior is slowly but evidently modifying the Negro. An African Mussulman is _still_ a warrior, for the dissemination of faith as well as for the gratification of avarice; yet the Prophet's laws are so much more genial than the precepts of paganism, that, within the last half century, the humanizing influence of the Koran is acknowledged by all who are acquainted with the interior tribes. But in all the changes that may come over the spirit of _man_ in Africa, her magnificent external _nature_ will for ever remain the game. A little labor teems with vast returns. The climate exacts nothing but shade from the sun and shelter from the storm. Its oppressive heat forbids a toilsome industry, and almost enforces indolence as a law. With every want supplied, without the allurements of social rivalry, without the temptations of national ambition or personal pride, what has the African to do in his forest of palm and cocoa,--his grove of orange, pomegranate and fig,--on his mat of comfortable repose, where the fruit stoops to his lips without a struggle for the prize,--save to brood over, or gratify, the electric passions with which his soul seems charged to bursting! It is an interesting task to travel through a continent filled with such people, whose minds are just beginning, here and there, to emerge from the vilest heathenism, and to glimmer with a faith that bears wrapped in its unfolded leaves, the seeds of a modified civilization. * * * * * As I travelled in the "dry season," I did not encounter many of the discomforts that beset the African wayfarer in periods of rain and tempest. I was not obliged to flounder through lagoons, or swim against the current of perilous rivers. We met their traces almost every day; and, in many places, the soil was worn into parched ravines or the tracks of dried-up torrents. Whatever affliction I experienced arose from the wasting depression of heat. We did not suffer from lack of water or food, for the caravan of the ALI-MAMI commanded implicit obedience throughout our journey. In the six hundred miles I traversed, whilst absent from the coast, my memory, after twenty-six years, leads me, from beginning to end, through an almost continuous forest-path. We struck a trail when we started, and we left it when we came home. It was rare, indeed, to encounter a cross road, except when it led to neighboring villages, water, or cultivated fields. So dense was the forest foliage, that we often walked for hours in shade without a glimpse of the sun. The emerald light that penetrated the wood, bathed every thing it touched with mellow refreshment. But we were repaid for this partial bliss by intense suffering when we came forth from the sanctuary into the bare valleys, the arid _barrancas_, and marshy _savannas_ of an open region. There, the red eye of the African sun glared with merciless fervor. Every thing reflected its rays. They struck us like lances from above, from below, from the sides, from the rocks, from the fields, from the stunted herbage, from the bushes. All was glare! Our eyes seemed to simmer in their sockets. Whenever the path followed the channel of a brook, whose dried torrents left bare the scorched and broken rocks, our feet fled from the ravine as from heated iron. Frequently we entered extensive _prairies_, covered with blades of sword-grass, tall as our heads, whose jagged edges tore us like saws, though we protected our faces with masks of wattled willows. And yet, after all these discomforts, how often are my dreams haunted by charming pictures of natural scenery that have fastened themselves for ever in my memory! As the traveller along the coast turns the prow of his canoe through the surf, and crosses the angry bar that guards the mouth of an African river, he suddenly finds himself moving calmly onward between sedgy shores, buried in mangroves. Presently, the scene expands in the unruffled mirror of a deep, majestic stream. Its lofty banks are covered by innumerable varieties of the tallest forest trees, from whoso summits a trailing network of vines and flowers floats down and sweeps the passing current. A stranger who beholds this scenery for the first time is struck by the immense size, the prolific abundance, and gorgeous verdure of every thing. Leaves, large enough for garments, lie piled and motionless in the lazy air: The bamboo and cane shake their slender spears and pennant leaves as the stream ripples among their roots. Beneath the massive trunks of forest trees, the country opens; and, in vistas through the wood, the traveller sees innumerable fields lying fallow in grass, or waving with harvests of rice and _cassava_, broken by golden clusters of Indian corn. Anon, groups of oranges, lemons, coffee-trees, plantains and bananas, are crossed by the tall stems of cocoas, and arched by the broad and drooping coronals of royal palm. Beyond this, capping the summit of a hill, may be seen the conical huts of natives, bordered by fresh pastures dotted with flocks of sheep and goats, or covered by numbers of the sleekest cattle. As you leave the coast, and shoot round the river-curves of this fragrant wilderness teeming with flowers, vocal with birds, and gay with their radiant plumage, you plunge into the interior, where the rising country slowly expands into hills and mountains. The forest is varied. Sometimes it is a matted pile of tree vine, and bramble, obscuring every thing, and impervious save with knife and hatchet. At others, it is a Gothic temple. The sward spreads openly for miles on every side, while, from its even surface, the trunks of straight and massive trees rise to a prodigious height, clear from every obstruction, till their gigantic limbs, like the capitals of columns, mingle their foliage in a roof of perpetual verdure. At length the hills are reached, and the lowland heat is tempered by mountain freshness. The scene that may be beheld from almost any elevation, is always beautiful, and sometimes grand. Forest, of course, prevails; yet, with a glass, and often by the unaided eye, gentle hills, swelling from the wooded landscape, may be seen covered with native huts, whose neighborhood is checkered with patches of sward and cultivation, and inclosed by massive belts of primeval wildness. Such is commonly the westward view; but north and east, as far as vision extends, noble outlines of hill and mountain may be traced against the sky, lapping each other with their mighty folds, until they fade away in the azure horizon. When a view like this is beheld at morning, in the neighborhood of rivers, a dense mist will be observed lying beneath the spectator in a solid stratum, refracting the light now breaking from the east. Here and there, in this lake of vapor, the tops of hills peer up like green islands in a golden sea. But, ere you have time to let fancy run riot, the "cloud compelling" orb lifts its disc over the mountains, and the fogs of the valley, like ghosts at cock-crow, flit from the dells they have haunted since nightfall. Presently, the sun is out in his terrible splendor. Africa unveils to her master, and the blue sky and green forest blaze and quiver with his beams. CHAPTER XXI. I felt so much the lack of scenery in my narrative, that I thought it well to group in a few pages the African pictures I have given in the last chapter. My story had too much of the bareness of the Greek stage, and I was conscious that landscape, as well as action, was required to mellow the subject and relieve it from tedium. After our dash through the wilderness, let us return to the slow toil of the caravan. Four days brought us to Tamisso from our last halt. We camped on the copious brook that ran near the town-walls, and while Ali-Ninpha thought proper to compliment the chief, Mohamedoo, by a formal announcement of our arrival, the caravan made ready for reception by copious, but _needed_, ablutions of flesh and raiment. The women, especially, were careful in adorning and heightening their charms. Wool was combed to its utmost rigidity; skins were greased till they shone like polished ebony; ankles and arms were restrung with beads; and loins were girded with snowy waist-cloths. Ali-Ninpha knew the pride of his old Mandingo companions, and was satisfied that Mohamedoo would have been mortified had we surprised him within the precincts of his court, squatted, perhaps, on a dirty mat with a female scratching his head! Ali-Ninpha was a prudent gentleman, and knew the difference between the private and public lives of his illustrious countrymen! In the afternoon our interpreters returned to camp with Mohamedoo's son, accompanied by a dozen women carrying platters of boiled rice, calabashes filled with delicate sauce, and abundance of _ture_, or vegetable butter. A beautiful horse was also despatched for my triumphal entry into town. The food was swallowed with an appetite corresponding to our recent penitential fare; the tents were struck; and the caravan was forthwith advanced towards Tamisso. All the noise we could conveniently make, by way of _music_, was, of course, duly attempted. Interpreters and guides went ahead, discharging guns. Half a dozen tom-toms were struck with uncommon rapidity and vigor, while the unctuous women set up a chorus of melody that would not have disgraced a band of "Ethiopian Minstrels." Half-way to the town our turbulent mob was met by a troop of musicians sent out by the chief to greet us with song and harp. I was quickly surrounded by the singers, who chanted the most fulsome praise of the opulent Mongo, while a court-fool or buffoon insisted on leading my horse, and occasionally wiping my face with his filthy handkerchief! Presently we reached the gates, thronged by pressing crowds of curious burghers. Men, women, and children, had all come abroad to see the immense _Furtoo_, or white man, and appeared as much charmed by the spectacle as if I had been a banished patriot. I was forced to dismount at the low wicket, but here the _empressement_ of my inquisitive hosts became so great, that the "nation's guest" was forced to pause until some amiable bailiffs modified the amazement of their fellow-citizens by staves and whips. I lost no time in the lull, while relieved from the mob, to pass onward to "the palace" of Mohamedoo, which, like all royal residences in Africa, consisted of a mud-walled quadrangular inclosure, with a small gate, a large court, and a quantity of _adobe_ huts, surrounded by shady verandahs. The furniture, mats, and couches were of cane, while wooden platters, brass kettles, and common wash-basins, were spread out in every direction for show and service. On a coach, covered with several splendid leopard skins, reclined Mohamedoo, awaiting my arrival with as much stateliness as if he had been a scion of civilized royalty. The chief was a man of sixty at least. His corpulent body was covered with short Turkish trousers, and a large Mandingo shirt profusely embroidered with red and yellow worsted. His bald or shaved head was concealed by a light turban, while a long white beard stood out in relief against his tawny skin, and hung down upon his breast. Ali-Ninpha presented me formally to this personage, who got up, shook hands, "snapped fingers," and welcomed me thrice. My Fullah chief and Mandingo companion then proceeded to "_make their dantica_," or declare the purpose of their visit; but when they announced that I was the guest of the Fullah Ali-Mami, and, accordingly, was _entitled_ to free passage every where without expense, I saw that the countenance of the veteran instantly fell, and that his welcome was dashed by the loss of a heavy duty which he designed exacting for my transit. The sharp eye of Ali-Ninpha was not slow in detecting Mohamedoo's displeasure; and, as I had previously prepared him in private, he took an early opportunity to whisper in the old man's ear, that Don Téodore knew he was compelled to journey through Tamisso, and, of course, had not come empty-handed. My object, he said, in visiting this region and the territory of the Fullah king, was not idle curiosity alone; but that I was prompted by a desire for liberal trade, and especially for the purchase of slaves to load the numerous vessels I had lingering on the coast, with immense cargoes of cloth, muskets, and powder. The clouds were dispersed as soon as a hint was thrown out about traffic. The old sinner nodded like a mandarin who knew what he was about, and, rising as soon as the adroit whisperer had finished, took me by the hand, and in a loud voice, presented me to the people as his "_beloved son_!" Besides this, the best house within the royal inclosure was fitted with fresh comforts for my lodging. When the Fullah chief withdrew from the audience, Ali-Ninpha brought in the mistress of Mohamedoo's harem, who acted as his confidential clerk, and we speedily handed over the six pieces of cotton and an abundant supply of tobacco with which I designed to propitiate her lord and master. Tired of the dust, crowd, heat, confinement and curiosity of an African town, I was glad to gulp down my supper of broiled chickens and milk, preparatory to a sleepy attack on my couch of rushes spread with mats and skins. Yet, before retiring for the night, I thought it well to refresh my jaded frame by a bath, which the prince had ordered to be prepared in a small court behind my chamber. But I grieve to say, that my modesty was put to a sore trial, when I began to unrobe. Locks and latches are unknown in this free-and-easy region. It had been noised abroad among the dames of the harem, that the _Furtoo_ would probably perform his ablutions before he slept; so that, when I entered the yard, my tub was surrounded by as many inquisitive eyes as the dinner table of Louis the Fourteenth, when sovereigns dined in public. As I could not speak their language, I made all the pantomimic signs of graceful supplication that commonly soften the hearts of the sex on the stage, hoping, by dumb-show, to secure my privacy. But gestures and grimace were unavailing. I then made hold to take off my shirt, leaving my nether garments untouched. Hitherto, the dames had seen only my bronzed face and hands, but when the snowy pallor of my breast and back was unveiled, many of them fled incontinently, shouting to their friends to "come and see the _peeled Furtoo_!" An ancient crone, the eldest of the crew, ran her hand roughly across the fairest portion of my bosom, and looking at her fingers with disgust, as if I reeked with leprosy, wiped them on the wall. As displeasure seemed to predominate over admiration, I hoped this experiment would have satisfied the inquest, but, as black curiosity exceeds all others, the wenches continued to linger, chatter, grin and feel, until I was forced to disappoint their anxiety for further disclosures, by an abrupt "good night." We tarried in Tamisso three days to recruit, during which I was liberally entertained on the prince's hospitable mat, where African stews of relishing flavor, and tender fowls smothered in snowy rice, regaled me at least twice in every twenty-four hours. Mohamedoo fed me with an European silver spoon, which, he said, came from among the effects of a traveller who, many years before, died far in the interior. In all his life, he had seen but _four_ of our race within the walls of Tamisso. Their names escaped his memory; but the last, he declared, was a poor and clever youth, probably from Senegal, who followed a powerful caravan, and "read the Koran like a _mufti_." Tamisso was entirely surrounded by a tall double fence of pointed posts. The space betwixt the inclosures, which were about seven feet apart, was thickly planted with smaller spear-headed staves, hardened by fire. If the first fence was leaped by assailants, they met a cruel reception from those impaling sentinels. Three gates afforded admission to different sections of the town, but the passage through them consisted of zig-zags, with loopholes cut judiciously in the angles, so as to command every point of access to the narrow streets of the suburbs. The parting between Mohamedoo and myself was friendly in the extreme. Provisions for four days were distributed by the prince to the caravan, and he promised that my return should be welcomed by an abundant supply of slaves. CHAPTER XXII. As our caravan approached the Fullah country, and got into the higher lands, where the air was invigorating, I found its pace improved so much that we often exceeded twenty miles in our daily journey. The next important place we were to approach was Jallica. For three days, our path coasted the southern edge of a mountain range, whose declivities and valleys were filled with rivers, brooks, and streamlets, affording abundant irrigation to fields teeming with vegetable wealth. The population was dense. Frequent caravans, with cattle and slaves, passed us on their way to various marts. Our supplies of food were plentiful. A leaf of tobacco purchased a fowl; a charge of powder obtained a basin of milk, or a dozen of eggs; and a large sheep cost only six cents, or a quart of salt. Five days after quitting Tamisso, our approach to Jallica was announced; and here, as at our last resting-place, it was deemed proper to halt half a day for notice and ablution before entering a city, whose chief--SUPHIANA--was a kinsman of Ali-Ninpha. The distance from our encampment to the town was about three miles; but an hour had hardly elapsed after our arrival, when the deep boom of the war-drum gave token that our message had been received with welcome. I was prepared, in some measure, for a display of no ordinary character at Jallica, because my Mandingo friend, Ali-Ninpha, inhabited the town in his youth, and had occupied a position which gave importance to his name throughout Soolimana. The worthy fellow had been absent many years from Jallica, and wept like a child when he heard the sound of the war-drum. Its discordant beat had the same effect on the savage that the sound of their village bells has on the spirit of returning wanderers in civilized lands. When the rattle of the drum was over, he told me that for five years he controlled that very instrument in Jallica, during which it had never sounded a retreat or betokened disaster. In peace it was never touched, save for public rejoicing; and the authorities allowed it to be beaten _now_ only because an old commander of the tribe was to be received with the honors due to his rank and service. Whilst we were still conversing, Suphiana's lance-bearer made his appearance, and, with a profound _salaam_, announced that the "gates of Jallica were open to the Mandingo and his companions." No _fanda_ or refreshments were sent with the welcome; but when the caravan got within fifty yards of the walls, a band of shouting warriors marched forth, and lifting Ali-Ninpha on their shoulders, bore him through the gates, singing war-songs, accompanied by all sorts of music and hubbub. I had purposely lingered with my men in the rear of the great body of Africans, so that nearly the whole caravan passed the portal before my complexion--though deeply bronzed by exposure--made me known to the crowd as a white man. Then, instantly, the air rang with the sound of--"Furtoo! Furtoo! Furtoo!"--and the gate was slammed in our faces, leaving us completely excluded from guide and companions. But, in the midst of his exultant reception, Ali-Ninpha did not forget the Mongo of Kambia. Hardly had he attained the end of the street, when he heard the cry of exclusion, and observed the closing portal. By this time, my Fullah friend had wrought himself into an examplary fit of Oriental rage with the inhospitable Mandingoes, so that I doubt very much whether he would not have knocked the dust from his sandals on the gate of Jallica, had not Ali-Ninpha rushed through the wicket, and commanding the portal to be reopened, apologized contritely to the Mahometan and myself. This unfortunate mistake, or accident, not only caused considerable delay, but rather dampened the delight of our party as it defiled in the spacious square of Jallica, and entered the open shed which was called a "_palaver-house_." Its vast area was densely packed with a fragrant crowd of old and young, armed with muskets or spears. All wore knives or cutlasses, slung by a belt high up on their necks; while, in their midst surrounded by a court of veterans, stood Suphiana, the prince, waiting our arrival. In front marched Ali-Ninpha, preceded by a numerous band of shrieking and twanging minstrels. As he entered the apartment, Suphiana arose, drew his sword, and embracing the stranger with his left arm, waved the shining blade over his head, with the other. This peculiar _accolade_ was imitated by each member of the royal council; while, in the centre of the square, the war-drum,--a hollowed tree, four feet in diameter, covered with hides,--was beaten by two savages with slung-shot, until its thundering reverberations completely deafened us. You may imagine my joy and comfort when I saw the Mandingo take a seat near the prince, as a signal for the din's cessation. This, however, was only the commencement of another prolonged ceremonial; for now began the royal review and salute in honor of the returned commander. During two hours, an uninterrupted procession of all the warriors, chiefs, and head-men of Jallica, defiled in front of the ancient drum-major; and, as each approached, he made his obeisance by pointing a spear or weapon at my landlord's feet. During this I remained on horseback without notice or relief from the authorities. Ali-Ninpha, however, saw my impatient discomfort, and once or twice despatched a sly message to preserve my good humor. The ceremony was one of absolute compulsion, and could not be avoided without discourtesy to the prince and his countrymen. As soon as he could escape, however, he hastened over the court-yard to assist me in dismounting; and dashing the rude crowd right and left, led me to his kinsman Suphiana. The prince extended his royal hand in token of amity; Ali-Ninpha declared me to be his "son;" while the long string of compliments and panegyrics he pronounced upon my personal qualities, moral virtues, and _wealth_, brought down a roar of grunts by way of applause from the toad-eating courtiers. * * * * * Jallica was a fairer town than any I had hitherto encountered in my travels. Its streets were wider, its houses better, its people more civil. No one intruded on the friend of Ali-Ninpha, and guest of Suphiana. I bathed without visits from inquisitive females. My house was my castle; and, when I stirred abroad, two men preceded me with rattans to keep my path clear from women and children. After lounging about quietly for a couple of days, wearing away fatigue, and getting rid of the stains of travel, I thought it advisable to drop in one morning, unannounced, after breakfast, at Suphiana's with the presents that are customary in the east. As the guest,--during my whole journey,--of the Ali-Mami, or King of Footha-Yallon, I was entirely exempt by customary law from this species of tax, nor would my Fullah protector have allowed me to offer a tribute had he known it;--yet, I always took a secret opportunity to present a _voluntary gift_, for I wished my memory to smell sweet along my track in Africa. Suphiana fully appreciated my generosity under the circumstances, and returned the civility by an invitation to dinner at the house of his principal wife. When the savory feast with which he regaled me was over, female singers were introduced for a concert. Their harps were triangles of wood, corded with fibres of cane; their banjoes consisted of gourds covered with skin pierced by holes, and strung like the harps; but, I confess, that I can neither rave nor go into ecstasies over the combined effect which saluted me from such instruments or such voices. I was particularly struck, however, by one of their inventions, which slightly resembles the _harmonica_ I have seen played by children in this country. A board, about two feet square, was bordered by a light frame at two ends, across which a couple of cane strings were tightly stretched. On these, strips of nicely trimmed bamboo, gradually diminishing in size from left to right, were placed; whilst beneath them, seven gourds, also gradually decreasing, were securely fastened to mellow the sound. The instrument was carried by a strap round the player's neck, and was struck by two small wooden hammers softened by some delicate substance. One of the prettiest girls in the bevy had charge of this African piano, and was said to be renowned for uncommon skill. Her feet, hands, wrists, elbows, ankles, and knees, were strung with small silvery bells; and, as the gay damsel was dancer and singer as well as musician, she seemed to reek with sound from every pore. Many of her attitudes would probably have been, at least, more picturesque and decent for drapery; but, in Jallica, MADOO, the _ayah_, was considered a Mozart in composition, a Lind in melody, and a Taglioni on the "light fantastic toe!" When the performance closed, Suphiana presented her a slave; and, as she made an obeisance to me in passing, I handed her my _bowie-knife_, promising to redeem it at my lodgings with _ten pounds of tobacco_! * * * * * Some superstitious notions about the state of the moon prevented my Fullah guide from departing as soon as I desired; but while we were dallying with the planet, Ali-Ninpha became so ill that he was compelled to halt and end the journey in his favorite Jallica. I rather suspected the Mandingo to feign more suffering than he really experienced, and I soon discovered that his malady was nothing but a sham. In truth, Ali-Ninpha had duped so many Fullah traders on the beach, and owed them the value of so many slaves, that he found it extremely inconvenient; if not perilous, to enter the domain of the ALI-MAMI OF FOOTHA-YALLON! CHAPTER XXIII. A messenger was despatched from Jallica, in advance of our departure, to announce our approach to Timbo. For six days more, our path led over hill and dale, and through charming valleys, fed by gentle streamlets that nourished the vigorous vegetation of a mountain land. As we crossed the last summits that overlooked the territory of Footha-Yallon, a broad _plateau_, whence a wide range of country might be beheld, was filled with bands of armed men, afoot and on horseback, while a dozen animals were held in tether by their gayly dressed attendants. I dashed to the head of the caravan on my jaded beast, and reached it just in time to find the sable arms of Ahmah-de-Bellah opening to greet me! The generous youth, surrounded by his friends and escorted by a select corps of soldiers and slaves, had come thus far on the path to offer the prince's welcome! I greeted the Mahometan with the fervor of ancient love; and, in a moment, we were all dismounted and on our knees; while, at a signal from the chief, profound silence reigned throughout the troop and caravan. Every eye was turned across the distant plain to the east. An air of profoundest devotion subdued the multitude, and, in a loud chant, Ahmah-de-Bellah, with outstretched arms and upraised face, sang forth a psalm of gratitude to Allah for the safety of his "brother." The surprise of this complimentary reception was not only delightful as an evidence of African character among these more civilized tribes of the Mahometan interior, but it gave me an assurance of security and trade, which was very acceptable to one so far within the bowels of the land. We were still a day's journey from the capital. Ahmah-de-Bellah declared it impossible, with all the diligence we could muster, to reach Timbo without another halt. Nevertheless, as he was extremely solicitous to bring us to our travel's end, he not only supplied my personal attendants with fresh horses, but ordered carriers from his own guard to charge themselves with the entire luggage of our caravan. Thus relieved of burden, our party set forth on the path in a brisk trot, and resting after dark for several hours in a village, we entered Timbo unceremoniously before daybreak while its inhabitants were still asleep. I was immediately conducted to a house specially built for me, surrounded by a high wall to protect my privacy from intrusion. Within, I found a careful duplicate of all the humble comforts in my domicil on the Rio Pongo. Tables, sofas, plates, knives, forks, tumblers, pitchers, basins,--had all been purchased by my friend, and forwarded for this establishment, from other factories without my knowledge; while the centre of the main apartment was decorated with an "American rocking-chair," which the natives had ingeniously contrived of rattans and bamboo! Such pleasant evidences of refined attention were more remarkable and delicate, because most of the articles are not used by Mahometans. "These, I hope," said Ahmah-de-Bellah, as he led me to a seat, "will make you comparatively comfortable while you please to dwell with your brother in Timbo. You have no thanks to return, because I have not treated you like a _native_ Mussulman; for you were kind enough to remember all my own little nationalities when I was your guest on the beach. ALLAH be praised for your redemption and arrival;--and so, brother, take your rest in peace within the realm of the Ali-Mami, your father!" I embraced the generous fellow with as much cordiality as if he had been a kinsman from the sweet valley of Arno. During his visit to my factory he was particularly charmed with an old dressing-gown I used for my siestas, and when I resolved on this journey, I caused an improved copy of it to be made by one of the most skilful artists on the river. A flashy pattern of calico was duly cut into rather ampler form than is usual among our dandies. This was charmingly lined with sky-blue, and set off at the edges with broad bands of glaring yellow. The effect of the whole, indeed, was calculated to strike an African fancy; so that, when I drew the garment from my luggage, and threw it, together with a fine white ruffled shirt, over the shoulders of "my brother," I thought the pious Mussulman would have gone wild with delight. He hugged me a dozen times with the gripe of a tiger, and probably would have kissed quite as lustily, had I not deprecated any further ebullitions of bodily gratitude. A bath erased not only the dust of travel from my limbs, but seemed to extract even the memory of its toils from my bones and muscles. Ahmah-de-Bellah intimated that the Ali-Mami would soon be prepared to receive me without ceremony. The old gentleman was confined by dropsy in his lower extremities, and probably found it uncomfortable to sustain the annoyance of public life except when absolutely necessary. The burden of my entertainment and glorification, therefore, was cast on the shoulders of his younger kinsfolk, for which, I confess, I was proportionally grateful. Accordingly, when I felt perfectly refreshed, I arose from my matted sofa, and dressing for the first time in more than a month in a perfectly clean suit, I donned a snowy shirt, a pair of dashing drills, Parisian pumps, and a Turkish _fez_, tipped with a copious tassel. Our interpreters were clad in fresh Mandingo dresses adorned with extra embroidery. My body-servant was ordered to appear in a cast-off suit of my own; so that, when I gave one my double-barrelled gun to carry, and armed the others with my pistols, and a glittering regulation-sword,--designed as a gift for the Ali-Mami,--I presented a very respectable and picturesque appearance for a gentleman abroad on his travels in the East. The moment I issued with my train from the house, a crowd of Fullahs was ready to receive me with exclamations of chattering surprise; still I was not annoyed, as elsewhere, by the unfailing concourse that followed my footsteps or clogged my pathway. The "palace" of the Ali-Mami of Footha-Yallon, like all African palaces in this region, was an _adobe_ hovel, surrounded by its portico shed, and protected by a wall from the intrusion of the common herd. In front of the dwelling, beneath the shelter of the verandah, on a fleecy pile of sheepskin mats, reclined the veteran, whose swollen and naked feet were undergoing a cooling process from the palm-leaf fans of female slaves. I marched up boldly in front of him with my military _suite_, and, making a profound _salaam_, was presented by Ahmah-de-Bellah as his "white brother." The Ali at once extended both hands, and, grasping mine, drew me beside him on the sheepskin. Then, looking intently over my face and into the very depth of my eyes, he asked gently with a smile--"what was my name?" "AHMAH-DE-BELLAH!" replied I, after the fashion of the country. As I uttered the Mahometan appellation, for which I had exchanged my own with his son at Kambia, the old man, who still held my hands, put one of his arms round my waist, and pressed me still closer to his side;--then, lifting both arms extended to heaven, he repeated several times,--"God is great! God is great! God is great!--and Mahomet is his Prophet!" This was followed by a grand inquest in regard to myself and history. Who was my father? Who was my mother? How many brothers had I? Were they warriors? Were they "book-men?" Why did I travel so far? What delay would I make in Footha-Yallon? Was my dwelling comfortable? Had I been treated with honor, respect and attention on my journey? And, last of all, the prince sincerely hoped that I would find it convenient to dwell with him during the whole of the "rainy season." Several times, in the midst of these interrogations, the patriarch groaned, and I could perceive, from the pain that flitted like a shadow over the nerves and muscles of his face, that he was suffering severely, and, of course, I cut the interview as short as oriental etiquette would allow. He pressed me once more to his bosom, and speaking to the interpreter, bade him tell his master, the Furtoo, that any thing I fancied in the realm was mine. Slaves, horses, cattle, stuffs,--all were at my disposal. Then, pointing to his son, he said: "Ahmah-de-Bellah, the white man is our guest; his brother will take heed for his wants, and redress every complaint." The prince was a man of sixty at least. His stature was noble and commanding, if not absolutely gigantic,--_being several inches over six feet_,--while his limbs and bulk were in perfect proportion. His oval head, of a rich mahogany color, was quite bald to the temples, and covered by a turban, whose ends depended in twin folds along his cheeks. The contour of his features was remarkably regular, though his lips were rather full, and his nose somewhat flat, yet free from the disgusting depression and cavities of the negro race. His forehead was high and perpendicular, while his mouth glistened with ivory when he spoke or smiled. I had frequent opportunities to talk with the king afterwards, and was always delighted by the affectionate simplicity of his demeanor. As it was the country's custom to educate the first-born of royalty for the throne, the Ali-Mami of Footha-Yallon had been brought up almost within the precincts of the mosque. I found the prince, therefore, more of a meditative "book-man" than warrior; while the rest of his family, and especially his younger brothers, had never been exempt from military duties, at home or abroad. Like a good Mussulman, the sovereign was a quiet, temperate gentleman, never indulging in "bitters" or any thing stronger than a drink fermented from certain roots, and sweetened to resemble _mead_. His intercourse with me was always affable and solicitous for my comfort; nor did he utter half a dozen sentences without interlarding them with fluent quotations from the Koran. Sometimes, in the midst of a pleasant chat in which he was wondering at my curiosity and taste for information about new lands, he would suddenly break off because it was his hour for prayer; at others, he would end the interview quite as unceremoniously, because it was time for ablution. Thus, between praying, washing, eating, sleeping, slave-dealing, and fanning his dropsical feet, the life of the Ali-Mami passed monotonously enough even for an oriental prince; but I doubt not, the same childish routine is still religiously pursued, unless it has pleased Allah to summon the faithful prince to the paradise of "true believers." I could never make him understand how a ship might be built large enough to hold provisions for a six months' voyage; and, as to the _sea_, "it was a mystery that none but God and a white man could solve!" As I was to breakfast on the day of my arrival at the dwelling of Ahmah-de-Bellah's mother, after my presentation to the prince her husband, I urged the footsteps of my companion with no little impatience as soon as I got out of the royal hearing. My fast had been rather longer than comfortable, even in obedience to royal etiquette. However, we were soon within the court-yard of her sable ladyship, who, though a dame of fifty at least, persisted in hiding her charms of face and bosom beneath a capacious cloth. Nevertheless, she welcomed me quite tenderly. She called me "Ahmah-de-Bellah-Theodoree,"--and, with her own hands, mixed the dainties on which we were to breakfast while cosily squatted on the mats of her verandah. Our food was simple enough for the most dyspeptic homoeopathist. Milk and rice were alternated with bonney-clabber and honey, seasoned by frequent words of hospitable encouragement. The frugal repast was washed down by calabashes of cool water, which were handed round by naked damsels, whose beautiful limbs might have served as models for an artist. When the meal was finished, I hoped that the day's ceremonial was over, but, to my dismay, I discovered that the most formal portion of my reception was yet to come. "We will now hasten," said Ahmah-de-Bellah, as I _salaamed_ his mamma, "to the palaver-ground, where I am sure our chiefs are, by this time, impatient to see you." Had I been a feeble instead of a robust campaigner, I would not have resisted the intimation, or desired a postponement of the "palaver;" so I "took my brother's" arm, and, followed by my _cortège_, proceeded to the interview that was to take place beyond the walls, in an exquisite grove of cotton-wood and tamarind-trees, appropriated to this sort of town-meeting. Here I found a vast assemblage of burghers; and in their midst, squatted on sheepskins, was a select ring of _patres conscripti_, presided by Sulimani-Ali, son of the king, and brother of my companion. As the Fullah presented me to his warrior-kinsman, he rose with a profound salutation, and taking my hand, led me to a rock, covered with a white napkin,--the seat of honor for an eminent stranger. The moment I was placed, the chiefs sprang up and each one grasped my hand, bidding me welcome _thrice_. Ahmah-de-Bellah stood patiently beside me until this ceremony was over, and each noble resumed his sheepskin. Then, taking a long cane from the eldest of the group, he stepped forward, saluted the assembly three times, thrice invoked Allah, and introduced me to the chiefs and multitude as his "brother." I came, he said, to Footha-Yallon on his invitation, and by the express consent of his beloved king and father, and of his beloved elder brother, Sulimani. He hoped, therefore, that every "head-man" present would see the rites of hospitality faithfully exercised to his white brother while he dwelt in Footha. There were many reasons that he could give why this should be done; but he would rest content with stating only three. First of all: I was nearly as good a Mussulman as many Mandingoes, and he knew the fact, because _he had converted me himself_! Secondly: I was entitled to every sort of courtesy from Fullahs, because I was a _rich_ trader from the Rio Pongo. And, thirdly: I had penetrated even to this very heart of Africa to purchase slaves for most liberal prices. It is the custom in African "palavers," as well as among African religionists, to give token of assent by a sigh, a groan, a slight exclamation, or a shout, when any thing affecting, agreeable, or touching is uttered by a speaker. Now, when my Fullah brother informed his friends of my arrival, my name, my demand for hospitality, and my wealth, the grunts and groans of the assembly augmented in number and volume as he went on; but when they heard of my design "to purchase _slaves_" a climax was reached at once, and, as with one voice, they shouted, "May the Lord of heaven be praised!" I smothered a laugh and strangled a smile as well as I could, when my interpreters expounded the "stump speech" of Ahmah-de-Bellah; and I lost no time in directing them to display the presents which some of my retainers, in the meanwhile, had brought to the grove. They consisted of several packages of blue and white calicoes, ten yards of brilliant scarlet cloth, six kegs of powder, three hundred pounds of tobacco, two strings of amber beads, and six muskets. On a beautiful rug, I set aside the gilded sword and _a package of cantharides_, designed for the king. When my arrangement was over, Sulimani took the cane from his brother, and stepping forward, said that the gifts to which he pointed proved the truth of Ahmah-de-Bellah's words, and that a rich man, indeed, had come to Footha-Yallon. Nay, more;--the rich man wanted slaves! Was I not generous? I was their guest, and owed them no tribute or duties; and yet, had I not _voluntarily_ lavished my presents upon the chiefs? Next day, his father would personally distribute my offering; but, whilst I dwelt in Footha, a bullock and ten baskets of rice should daily be furnished for my caravan's support; and, as every chief would partake my bounty, each one should contribute to my comfort. This speech, like the former, was hailed with grunts; but I could not help noticing that the vote of supplies was not cheered half as lustily as the announcement of my _largesse_. The formalities being over, the inquisitive head-men crowded round the presents with as much eagerness as aspirants for office at a presidential inauguration. The merchandise was inspected, felt, smelled, counted, measured, and set aside. The rug and the sword, being royal gifts, were delicately handled. But when the vials of cantharides were unpacked, and their contents announced, each of the chieftains insisted that his majesty should not monopolize the coveted stimulant. A sharp dispute on the subject arose between the princes and the councillors, so that I was forced to interfere through the interpreters, who could only quiet the rebels by the promise of a dozen additional flasks for their private account. In the midst of the wrangling, Sulimani and Ahmah ordered their father's slaves to carry the gifts to the Ali-Mami's palace; and, taking me between them, we marched, arm in arm, to my domicil. Here I found Abdulmomen-Ali, another son of the king, waiting for his brothers to present him to the Mongo of Kambia. Abdulmomen was introduced as "a learned divine," and began at once to talk Koran in the most _mufti_-like manner. I had made such sorry improvement in Mahometanism since Ahmah-de-Bellah's departure from the Rio Pongo, that I thought it safest to sit silent, as if under the deepest fervor of Mussulman conviction. I soon found that Abdulmomen, like many more clergymen, was willing enough to do all the preaching, whenever he found an unresisting listener. I put on a look of very intelligent assent and thankfulness to all the arguments and commentaries of my black brother, and in this way I avoided the detection of my ignorance, as many a better man has probably done before me! CHAPTER XXIV. Timbo lies on a rolling plain. North of it, a lofty mountain range rises at the distance of ten or fifteen miles, and sweeps eastwardly to the horizon. The landscape, which declines from these slopes to the south, is in many places bare; yet fields of plentiful cultivation, groves of cotton-wood, tamarind and oak, thickets of shrubbery and frequent villages, stud its surface, and impart an air of rural comfort to the picturesque scene. I soon proposed a gallop with my African kindred over the neighborhood; and, one fine morning, after a plentiful breakfast of stewed fowls, boiled to rags with rice, and seasoned with delicious "palavra sauce," we cantered off to the distant villages. As we approached the first brook, but before the fringe of screening bushes was passed, our cavalcade drew rein abruptly, while Ahmah-de-Bellah cried out: "Strangers are coming!" A few moments after, as we slowly crossed the stream, I noticed several women crouched in the underwood, having fled from the bath. This warning is universally given, and enforced by law, to guard the modesty of the gentler sex. In half an hour we reached the first suburban village; but fame had preceded us with my character, and as the settlement was cultivated either by serfs or negroes liable to be made so, we found the houses bare. The poor wretches had learned, on the day of my reception, that the principal object of my journey was to obtain slaves, and, of course, they imagined that the only object of my foray in their neighborhood, was to seize the gang and bear it abroad in bondage. Accordingly, we tarried only a few minutes in Findo, and dashed off to Furo; but here, too, the blacks had been panic struck, and escaped so hurriedly that they left their pots of rice, vegetables, and meat boiling in their sheds. Furo was absolutely stripped of inhabitants; the veteran chief of the village did not even remain to do the honors for his affrighted brethren. Ahmah-de-Bellah laughed heartily at the terror I inspired; but I confess I could not help feeling sadly mortified when I found my presence shunned as a pestilence. The native villages through which I passed on this excursion manifested the great comfort in which these Africans live throughout their prolific land, when unassailed by the desolating wars that are kept up for slave-trade. It was the height of the dry season, when every thing was parched by the sun, yet I could trace the outlines of fine plantations, gardens, and rice-fields. Every where I found abundance of peppers, onions, garlic, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, and cassava; while tasteful fences were garlanded with immense vines and flowers. Fowls, goats, sheep, and oxen, stalked about in innumerable flocks, and from every domicil depended a paper, inscribed with a charm from the Koran to keep off thieves and witches. My walks through Timbo were promoted by the constant efforts of my entertainers to shield me from intrusive curiosity. Whenever I sallied forth, two townsfolk in authority were sent forward to warn the public that the Furtoo desired to promenade without a mob at his heels. These lusty criers stationed themselves at the corners with an iron triangle, which they rattled to call attention to the king's command; and, in a short time, the highways were so clear of people, who feared a _bastinado_, that I found my loneliness rather disagreeable than otherwise. _Every person I saw, shunned me._ When I called the children or little girls,--they fled from me. My reputation as a slaver in the villages, and the fear of a lash in the town, furnished me much more solitude than is generally agreeable to a sensitive traveller. Towards nightfall I left my companions, and wrapping myself closely in a Mandingo dress, stole away through bye-ways to a brook which runs by the town-walls. Thither the females resort at sunset to draw water; and, choosing a screened situation, where I would not be easily observed, I watched, for more than an hour, the graceful children, girls, and women of Timbo, as they performed this domestic task of eastern lands. I was particularly impressed by the general beauty of the sex, who, in many respects, resembled the Moor rather than the negro. Unaware of a stranger's presence, they came forth as usual in a simple dress which covers their body from waist to knee, and leaves the rest of the figure entirely naked. Group after group gathered together on the brink of the brook in the slanting sunlight and lengthening shadows of the plain. Some rested on their pitchers and water vessels; some chatted, or leaned on each other gracefully, listening to the chat of friends; some stooped to fill their jars; others lifted the brimming vessels to their sisters' shoulders--while others strode homeward singing, with their charged utensils poised on head or hand. Their slow, stately, swinging movement under the burden, was grace that might be envied on a Spanish _paseo_. I do not think the forms of these Fullah girls,--with their complexions of freshest bronze,--are exceeded in symmetry by the women of any other country. There was a slender delicacy of limb, waist, neck, hand, foot, and bosom, which seemed to be the type that moulded every one of them. I saw none of the hanging breast; the flat, expanded nostrils; the swollen lips, and fillet-like foreheads, that characterize the Soosoos and their sisters of the coast. None were deformed, nor were any marked by traces of disease. I may observe, moreover, that the male Fullahs of Timbo are impressed on my memory by a beauty of form, which almost equals that of the women; and, in fact, the only fault I found with them was their minute resemblance to the feminine delicacy of the other sex. They made up, however, in courage what they lacked in form, for their manly spirit has made them renowned among all the tribes they have so long controlled by distinguished bravery and perseverance. The patriarchal landscape by the brook, with the Oriental girls over their water-jars, and the lowing cattle in the pastures, brought freshly to my mind many a Bible scene I heard my mother read when I was a boy at home; and I do not know what revolution might have been wrought on my spirit had I not suddenly become critical! A stately dame passed within twenty feet of my thicket, whose _coiffure_ excited my mirth so powerfully that I might have been detected as a spy, had not a bitten lip controlled my laughter. Her ladyship belonged, perhaps, to the "upper-ten" of Timbo, whose heads had hitherto been hidden from my eyes by the jealous _yashmacks_ they constantly wear in a stranger's presence. In this instance, however, the woman's head, like that of the younger girls, was uncovered, so that I had a full view of the stately preparation. Her lower limbs were clad in ample folds of blue and white cotton, knotted in an immense mass at the waist, while her long crisp hair had been combed out to its fullest dimensions and spliced with additional wool. The ebony fleece was then separated in strands half an inch in diameter, and plaited all over her skull in a countless number of distinct braids. This quill-like structure was then adorned with amber beads, and copiously anointed with vegetable butter, so that the points gleamed with fire in the setting sunlight, and made her look as if she had donned for a bewitching headdress a porcupine instead of a "bird of paradise." * * * * * My trip to Timbo, I confess, was one of business rather than pleasure or scientific exploration. I did not make a record, at the moment, of my "impressions de voyage," and never thought that, a quarter of a century afterwards, I would feel disposed to chronicle the journey in a book, as an interesting _souvenir_ of my early life. Had I supposed that the day would come when I was to turn author, it is likely I might have been more inquisitive; but, being only "a slaver," I found Ahmah, Sulimani, Abdulmomen, the Ali-Mami, and all the quality and amusements of Timbo, dull enough, _when my object was achieved_. Still, while I was there, I thought I might as well see all that was visible. I strolled repeatedly through the town. I became excessively familiar with its narrow streets, low houses, mud walls, cul-de-sacs, and mosques. I saw no fine bazaars, market-places, or shops. The chief wants of life were supplied by peddlers. Platters, jars, and baskets of fruit, vegetables, and meat, were borne around twice or thrice daily. Horsemen dashed about on beautiful steeds towards the fields in the morning, or came home at nightfall at a slower pace. _I never saw man or woman bask lazily in the sun._ Females were constantly busy over their cotton and spinning wheels when not engaged in household occupations; and often have I seen an elderly dame quietly crouched in her hovel at sunset reading the Koran. Nor are the men of Timbo less thrifty. Their city wall is said to hem in about ten thousand individuals, representing all the social industries. They weave cotton, work in leather, fabricate iron from the bar, engage diligently in agriculture, and, whenever not laboriously employed, devote themselves to reading and writing, of which they are excessively fond. These are the faint sketches, which, on ransacking my brain, I find resting on its tablets. But I was tired of Timbo; I was perfectly refreshed from my journey; and I was anxious to return to my factory on the beach. Two "moons" only had been originally set apart for the enterprise, and the third was already waxing towards its full. I feared the Ali-Mami was not yet prepared with _slaves_ for my departure, and I dreaded lest objections might be made if I approached his royal highness with the flat announcement. Accordingly, I schooled my interpreters, and visited that important personage. I made a long speech, as full of compliments and blarney as a Christmas pudding is of plums, and concluded by touching the soft part in African royalty's heart--_slaves!_ I told the king that a vessel or two, with abundant freights, would be waiting me on the river, and that I must hasten thither with his choicest gangs if he hoped to reap a profit. The king and the royal family were no doubt excessively grieved to part with the Furtoo Mongo, but they were discreet persons and "listened to reason." War parties and scouts were forthwith despatched to blockade the paths, while press-gangs made recruits among the villages, and even in Timbo. Sulimani-Ali, himself, sallied forth, before daybreak, with a troop of horse, and at sundown, came back with forty-five splendid fellows, captured in Findo and Furo! The personal dread of me in the town itself, was augmented. If I had been a Pestilence before, I was Death now! When I took my usual morning walk the children ran from me screaming. Since the arrival of Sulimani with his victims, all who were under the yoke thought their hour of exile had come. The poor regarded me as the devil incarnate. Once or twice, I caught women throwing a handful of dust or ashes towards me, and uttering an invocation from the Koran to avert the demon or save them from his clutches. Their curiosity was merged in terror. _My popularity was over!_ It was not a little amusing that in the midst of the general dismay, caused by the court of Timbo and myself, my colored brother Ahmah-de-Bellah, and his kinsman Abdulmomen, lost no chance of lecturing me about my soul! We kidnapped the Africans all day and spouted Islamism all night! Our religion, however, was more speculative than practical. It was much more important, they thought, that we should embrace the faith of their peculiar theology, than that we should trouble ourselves about human rights that interfered with profits and pockets. We spared Mahometans and enslaved _only_ "_the heathen_;" so that, in fact, we were merely obedient to the behests of Mahomet when we subdued "the infidel!" This process of proselytism, however, was not altogether successful. As I was already a rather poor Christian, I fear that the Fullah did not succeed in making me a very good Mussulman. Still, I managed to amuse him with the hope of my _future_ improvement in his creed, so that we were very good friends when the Ali-Mami summoned us for a final interview. The parting of men is seldom a maudlin affair. The king's relations presented me bullocks, cows, goats, and sheep. His majesty sent me five slaves. Sulimani-Ali offered a splendid white charger. The king's wife supplied me with an African quilt ingeniously woven of red and yellow threads unravelled from Manchester cottons; while Ahmah-de-Bellah, like a gentleman of taste, despatched for my consolation, the two prettiest handmaidens he could buy or steal in Timbo! CHAPTER XXV. I shall not weary the reader with a narrative of my journey homeward over the track I had followed on my way to Timbo. A grand Mahometan service was performed at my departure, and Ahmah-de-Bellah accompanied me as far as Jallica, whence he was recalled by his father in consequence of a serious family dispute that required his presence. Ali-Ninpha was prepared, in this place, to greet me with a welcome, and a copious supply of gold, wax, ivory, and slaves. At Tamisso, the worthy Mohamedoo had complied with his promise to furnish a similar addition to the caravan; so that when we set out for Kya, our troop was swelled to near a thousand strong, counting men, women, children and ragamuffins. At Kya I could not help tarrying four days with my jolly friend Ibrahim, who received the tobacco, charged with "bitters," during my absence, and was delighted to furnish a nourishing drop after my long abstinence. As we approached the coast, another halt was called at a favorable encampment, where Ali-Ninpha divided the caravan in four parts, reserving the best portion of slaves and merchandise for me. The division, before arrival, was absolutely necessary, in order to prevent disputes or disastrous quarrels in regard to the merchantable quality of negroes on the beach. I hoped to take my people by surprise at Kambia; but when the factory came in sight from the hill-tops back of the settlement, I saw the Spanish flag floating from its summit, and heard the cannon booming forth a welcome to the wanderer. Every thing had been admirably conducted in my absence. The Fullah and my clerk preserved their social relations and the public tranquillity unimpaired. My factory and warehouse were as neat and orderly as when I left them, so that I had nothing to do but go to sleep as if I had made a day's excursion to a neighboring village. Within a week I paid for the caravan's produce, despatched Mami-de-Yong, and made arrangements with the captain of a slaver in the river for the remainder of his merchandise. But the Fullah chief had not left me more than a day or two, when I was surprised by a traveller who dashed into my factory, with a message from Ahmah-de-Bellah at Timbo, whence he had posted in twenty-one days. Ahmah was in trouble. He had been recalled, as I said, from Jallica by family quarrels. When he reached the paternal mat, he found his sister Beeljie bound hand and foot in prison, with orders for her prompt transportation to my factory as a slave. These were the irrevocable commands of his royal father, and of her half-brother, Sulimani. All his appeals, seconded by those of his mother, were unheeded. She must be _shipped_ from the Rio Pongo; and no one could be trusted with the task but the Ali-Mami's son and friend, the Mongo Téodor! To resist this dire command, Ahmah charged the messenger to appeal to my heart by our brotherly love _not_ to allow the maiden to be sent over sea; but, by force or stratagem, to retain her until he arrived on the beach. The news amazed me. I knew that African Mahometans never sold their caste or kindred into foreign slavery, unless their crime deserved a penalty severer than death. I reflected a while on the message, because I did not wish to complicate my relations with the leading chiefs of the interior; but, in a few moments, natural sensibility mastered every selfish impulse, and I told the envoy to hasten back on the path of the suffering brother, and assure him I would shield his sister, even at the risk of his kindred's wrath. About a week afterwards I was aroused one morning by a runner from a neighboring village over the hill, who stated that a courier reached his town the night before from Sulimani-Ali,--a prince of Timbo,--conducting a Fullah girl, who was to be sold by me _immediately_ to a Spanish slaver. The girl, he said, resisted with all her energy. She refused to walk. For the last four days she had been borne along in a litter. She swore never to "see the ocean;" and threatened to dash her skull against the first rock in her path, if they attempted to carry her further. The stanch refusal embarrassed her Mahometan conductor, inasmuch as his country's law forbade him to use extraordinary compulsion, or degrade the maiden with a whip. I saw at once that this delay and hesitation afforded an opportunity to interfere judiciously in behalf of the spirited girl, whose sins or faults were still unknown to me. Accordingly, I imparted the tale to Ali-Ninpha; and, with his consent, despatched a shrewd dame from the Mandingo's _harem_, with directions for her conduct to the village. Woman's tact and woman's sympathy are the same throughout the world, and the proud ambassadress undertook her task with pleased alacrity. I warned her to be extremely cautious before the myrmidons of Sulimani, but to seize a secret moment when she might win the maiden's confidence, to inform her that I was the sworn friend of Ahmah-de-Bellah, and would save her _if she followed my commands implicitly_. She must cease resistance at once. She must come to the river, which was fresh water, and not salt; and she must allow her jailers to fulfil all the orders they received from her tyrannical kinsmen. Muffled in the messenger's garments, I sent the manuscript Koran of Ahmah-de-Bellah as a token of my truth, and bade the dame assure Beeljie that her brother was already far on his journey to redeem her in Kambia. The mission was successful, and, early next day, the girl was brought to my factory, _with a rope round her neck_. The preliminaries for her purchase were tedious and formal. As her sale was compulsory, there was not much question as to quality or price. Still, I was obliged to promise a multitude of things I did not intend to perform. In order to disgrace the poor creature as much as possible, her sentence declared she should be "sold for salt,"--the most contemptuous of all African exchanges, and used in the interior for the purchase of _cattle_ alone. Poor Beeljie stood naked and trembling before us while these ceremonies were performing. A scowl of indignation flitted like a shadow over her face, as she heard the disgusting commands. Tenderly brought up among the princely brood of Timbo, she was a bright and delicate type of the classes I described at the brook-side. Her limbs and features were stained by the dust of travel, and her expression was clouded with the grief of sensible degradation: still I would have risked more than I did, when I beheld the mute appeal of her face and form, to save her from the doom of Cuban exile. When the last tub of salt was measured, I cut the rope from Beeljie's neck, and, throwing over her shoulders a shawl,--in which she instantly shrank with a look of gratitude,--called the female who had borne my cheering message, to take the girl to her house and treat her as the sister of my Fullah brother. As I expected, this humane command brought the emissary of Sulimani to his feet with a bound. He insisted on the restitution of the woman! He swore I had deceived him; and, in fact, went through a variety of African antics which are not unusual, even among the most civilized of the tribes, when excited to extraordinary passion. It was my habit, during these outbursts of native ire, to remain perfectly quiet, not only until the explosion was over, but while the smoke was disappearing from the scene. I fastened my eye, therefore, silently, but intensely, on the tiger, following him in all his movements about the apartment, till he sank subdued and panting, on the mat. I then softly told him that this excitement was not only unbecoming a Mahometan gentleman, and fit for a savage alone, but that it was altogether wasted on the present occasion, _inasmuch as the girl should be put on board a slaver in his presence_. Nevertheless, I continued while the sister of Ahmah was under my roof, her blood must be respected, and she should be treated in every respect as a royal person. I was quite as curious as the reader may be to know the crime of Beeljie, for, up to that moment, I had not been informed of it. Dismissing the Fullah as speedily as possible, I hastened to Ali-Ninpha's dwelling and heard the sufferer's story. The Mahometan princess, whose age surely did not exceed eighteen, had been promised by the king and her half-brother, Sulimani, to an old relative, who was not only accused of cruelty to his harem's inmates, but was charged by Mussulmen with the heinous crime of eating "unclean flesh." The girl, who seemed to be a person of masculine courage and determination, resisted this disposal of her person; but, while her brother Ahmah was away, she was forced from her mother's arms and given to the filthy dotard. It is commonly supposed that women are doomed to the basest obedience in oriental lands; yet, it seems there is a Mahometan law,--or, at least, a Fullah custom,--which saves the purity of an unwilling bride. The delivery of Beeljie to her brutal lord kindled the fire of an ardent temper. She furnished the old gentleman with specimens of violence to which his harem had been a stranger, save when the master himself chose to indulge in wrath. In fact, the Fullah damsel--half acting, half in reality--played the virago so finely, that her husband, after exhausting arguments, promises and supplications, sent her back to her kindred _with an insulting message_. It was a sad day when she returned to the paternal roof in Timbo. Her resistance was regarded by the dropsical despot as rebellious disobedience to father and brother; and, as neither authority nor love would induce the outlaw to repent, her barbarous parent condemned her to be "_a slave to Christians_." Her story ended, I consoled the poor maiden with every assurance of protection and comfort; for, now that the excitement of sale and journey was over, her nerves gave way, and she sank on her mat, completely exhausted. I commended her to the safeguard of my landlord and the especial kindness of his women. Esther, too, stole up at night to comfort the sufferer with her fondling tenderness, for she could not speak the Fullah language;--and in a week, I had the damsel in capital condition ready for a daring enterprise that was to seal her fate. When the Spanish slaver, whose cargo I had just completed, was ready for sea, I begged her captain to aid me in the shipment of "_a princess_" who had been consigned to my wardship by her royal relations in the interior, but whom I dared not put on board his vessel _until she was beyond the Rio Pongo's bar_. The officer assented; and when the last boat-load of slaves was despatched from my _barracoon_, he lifted his anchor and floated down the stream till he got beyond the furthest breakers. Here, with sails loosely furled, and every thing ready for instant departure, he again laid to, awaiting the royal _bonne-bouche_. In the mean time, I hurried Beeljie with her friends and Fullah jailer to the beach, so that when the slaver threw his sails aback and brought his vessel to the wind, I lost not a moment in putting the girl in a canoe, with five Kroomen to carry her through the boiling surf. "Allah be praised!" sighed the Fullah, as the boat shot ahead into the sea; while the girls of the harem fell on the sand with wails of sorrow. The Kroomen, with their usual skill, drove the buoyant skiff swiftly towards the slaver; but, as they approached the breakers south of the bar, a heavy roller struck it on the side, and instantly, its freight was struggling in the surge. In a twinkling, the Fullah was on the earth, his face buried in the sand; the girls screamed and tore their garments; Ali-Ninpha's wife clung to me with the grasp of despair; while I, stamping with rage, cursed the barbarity of the maiden's parent, whose sentence had brought her to this wretched fate. I kicked the howling hypocrite beneath me, and bade him hasten with the news to Timbo, and tell the wicked patriarch that the Prophet himself had destroyed the life of his wretched child, sooner than suffer her to become a Christian's slave. The Spanish vessel was under full sail, sweeping rapidly out to sea, and the Kroomen swam ashore without their boat, as the grieving group slowly and sadly retraced their way along the river's bank to Kambia. [Illustration: THE SHIPPING OF BEELJIE.] There was wailing that night in the village, and there was wailing in Timbo when the Fullah returned with the tragic story. In fact, such was the distracted excitement both on the sea-shore and in the settlement, that none of my companions had eyes to observe an episode of the drama which had been played that evening without rehearsal. Every body who has been on the coast of Africa, or read of its people, knows that Kroomen are altogether unaware of any difference between a smooth river and the angriest wave. They would as willingly be upset in the surf as stumble against a rock. I took advantage of this amphibious nature, to station a light canoe immediately on the edge of the breakers, and to order the daring swimmers it contained to grasp the girl the moment her canoe was _purposely upset_! I promised the divers a liberal reward if they lodged her in their boat, or swam with her to the nearest point of the opposite beach; and so well did they perform their secret task, that when they drew ashore her fainting body, it was promptly received by a trusty Bager, who was in waiting on the beach. Before the girl recovered her senses she was safely afloat in the fisherman's canoe. His home was in a village on the coast below; and, perhaps, it still remains a secret to this day, how it was that, _for years after, a girl, the image of the lost Beeljie, followed the footsteps of Ahmah, the Fullah of Timbo_! CHAPTER XXVI. After my toilsome journey to the interior, my despatch of a slaver, and my adventurous enterprise in behalf of a Fullah princess, I thought myself entitled to a long _siesta_; but my comfortable desires and anticipations were doomed to disappointment. I was suddenly stirred from this willing lethargy by a salute of twenty-one guns in the offing. Our wonder was almost insupportable as to the character of the ceremonious stranger who wasted powder so profusely, while a boy was despatched to the top of the look-out tree to ascertain his character. He reported a schooner anchored opposite Bangalang, sporting a long pendant at the main, and a white ensign at her peak. I took it for granted that no man-of-war would _salute_ a native chief, and so concluded that it was some pretentious Frenchman, unacquainted with the prudent customs of our demure coast. The conjecture was right. At nightfall Mr. Ormond--whose humor had somewhat improved since my return--apprised me that a Gallic slaver had arrived to his consignment with a rich cargo, and hoped I would join him at breakfast on board, by invitation of the commander. Next morning, at sunrise, the Mongo and myself met for the first time after our rupture with apparent cordiality on the deck of "La Perouse," where we were welcomed with all that cordiality of grimace for which a half-bred Frenchman is so justly celebrated. Captain Brulôt could not speak English, nor could Mr. Ormond express himself in French; so we wasted the time till breakfast was served in discussing his cargo and prospects, through my interpretation. Fine samples of gaudy calicoes, French guns, and superior brandy, were exhibited and dwelt on with characteristic eloquence; but the Gaul closed his bewitching catalogue with a shout of joy that made the cabin ring, as he announced the complement of his cargo to be _five hundred doubloons_. The scent of gold has a peculiar charm to African slavers, and it will readily be supposed that our appetite for the promised _déjeuner_ was not a little stimulated by the Spanish coin. As rapidly as we could, we summed up the doubloons and his merchandise; and, estimating the entire cargo at about $17,000, offered him three hundred and fifty negroes for the lot. The bid was no sooner made than accepted. Our private boats were sent ashore in search of canoes to discharge the goods, and, with a relish and spirit I never saw surpassed, we sat down to a piquant breakfast, spread on deck beneath the awning. I will not attempt to remember the dishes which provoked our appetites and teased our thirst. We were happy already on the delightful claret that washed down the viands; but, after the substantials were gone, coffee was served, and succeeded by half a dozen various cordials, the whole being appropriately capped by the foam of champagne. When the last bumper was quaffed in honor of "La Perouse" and "belle France," Captain Brulôt called for his writing-desk; when, at the instant, four men sprung up as if by enchantment behind the Mongo and myself, and grasping our arms with the gripe of a vice, held us in their clutches till the carpenter riveted a shackle on our feet. The scene passed so rapidly,--the transition from gayety to outrage was so sharp and violent, that my bewildered mind cannot now declare with certainty, whether mirth or anger prevailed at the clap-trap trick of this dramatic _denouement_. I am quite sure, however, that if I laughed at first, I very soon swore; for I have a distinct recollection of dashing my fist in the poltroon's face before he could extemporize an explanation. When our limbs were perfectly secure, the French scoundrel recommenced his shrugs, bows, grins and congées; and approaching Mr. Ormond with a sarcastic simper, apprised him that the _petite comedie_ in which he took part, had been enacted for the collection of a trifling debt which his excellency the Mongo owed a beloved brother, who, alas! was no longer on earth to collect it for himself! _Monsieur le Mongo_, he said, would have the kindness to remember that, several years ago, his brother had left some _two hundred slaves_ in his hands until called for; and he would also please to take the trouble to recollect, that the said slaves had been twice sent for, and twice refused. _Monsieur le Mongo_ must know, he continued, that there was not much law on the coast of Africa; and that, as he had Monsieur le Mongo's promissory note, or due-bill, for the negroes, he thought this charming little _ruse_ would be the most amiable and practical mode of enforcing it! Did his friend, _le Mongo_, intend to honor this draft? It was properly endorsed, he would see, in favor of the bearer; and if the _esclaves_ were quickly forthcoming, the whole affair would pass off as agreeably and quickly as the bubbles from a champagne glass. By this time Ormond was so perfectly stupefied by drink, as well as the atrocity, that he simply burst into a maudlin laugh, when I looked at him for an explanation of the charge. _I_, surely, was not implicated in it; yet, when I demanded the cause of the assault upon _my_ person, in connection with the affair, Brulôt replied, with a shrug, that as I was Ormond's clerk when the note was signed, I _must_ have had a finger in the pie; and, inasmuch as I now possessed a factory of my own, it would doubtless be delightful to aid my ancient patron in the liquidation of a debt that I knew to be lawful. It was altogether useless to deny my presence in the factory, or knowledge of the transaction, which, in truth, had occurred long before my arrival on the Rio Pongo, during the clerkship of my predecessor. Still, I insisted on immediate release. An hour flew by in useless parley. But the Frenchman was firm, and swore that nothing would induce him to liberate either of us without payment of the bill. While we were talking, a crowd of canoes was seen shoving off from Bangalang, filled with armed men; whereupon the excited Gaul ordered his men to quarters, and double-shotted his guns. As the first boat came within striking distance, a ball was fired across her bows, which not only sent back the advance, but made the entire fleet tack ship and steer homeward in dismay. Soon after, however, I heard the war-drum beating in Bangalang, and could see the natives mustering in great numbers along the river banks; yet, what could undisciplined savages effect against the skinned teeth of our six-pounders? At sunset, however, my clerk came off, with a white flag, and the captain allowed him to row alongside to receive our orders in his presence. Ormond was not yet in a state to consult as to our appropriate means of rescue from the trickster's clutches; so I directed the young man to return in the morning with changes of raiment; but, in the mean while, to desire the villagers of both settlements to refrain from interference in our behalf. An excellent meal, with abundance of claret, was served for our entertainment, and, on a capital mattress, we passed a night of patient endurance in our iron stockings. At daylight, water and towels were served for our refreshment. After coffee and cigars were placed on the board, Brulôt put by his sarcasm, and, in an off-hand fashion, demanded whether we had come to our senses and intended to pay the debt? My Italian blood was in a fever, and I said nothing. Ormond, however,--now entirely sober, and who was enjoying a cigar with the habitual _insouciance_ of a mulatto,--replied quietly that he could make no promises or arrangements whilst confined on board, but if allowed to go ashore, he would fulfil his obligation in two or three days. An hour was spent by the Frenchman in pondering on the proposal; when it was finally agreed that the Mongo should be set at liberty, provided he left, as hostages, four of his children and two of the black chiefs who visited him in my boat. The compact was sealed by the hoisting of a flag under the discharge of a blank cartridge; and, in an hour, the pledges were in the cabin, under the eye of a sentry, while the Mongo was once more in Bangalang. These negotiations, it will be perceived, did not touch _my_ case, though I was in no manner guilty; yet I assented to the proposal because I thought that Ormond would be better able than myself to find the requisite number of slaves at that moment. I ordered my clerk, however, to press all the indifferent and useless servants in my factory, and to aid the Mongo with every slave at present in my _barracoon_. Before sunset of that day, this young man came aboard with fifty negroes from my establishment, and demanded my release. It was refused. Next day forty more were despatched by the Mongo; but still my liberty was denied. I upbraided the scoundrel with his meanness, and bade him look out for the day of retribution. But he snapped his fingers at my threat as he exclaimed: "_Cher ami, ce n'est que la fortune de guerre!_" It was a task of difficulty to collect the remaining one hundred and ten slaves among factories which had been recently drained by Cuban vessels. Many domestic menials escaped to the forest when the story became known, as they did not wish to take the place of their betters in the "French service." Thrice had the sun risen and set since I was a prisoner. During all the time, my blood tingled for revenge. I was tricked, humbled and disgraced. Never did I cease to pray for the arrival of some well-armed _Spanish slaver_; and, towards evening of the fourth day, lo! the boon was granted! That afternoon, a boat manned by negroes, passed with the Spanish flag; but, as there was no white man aboard, Brulôt took it for a _ruse_ of the Mongo, designed to alarm him into an unconditional release of his captives. I must do the Gaul the justice to declare, that during my confinement, he behaved like a gentleman, in supplies from the pantry and spirit-room. Neither was he uncivil or unkind in his general demeanor. Indeed, he several times regretted that this was the only means in his power "to collect a promissory note on the coast of Africa;" yet, I was not Christian enough to sympathize with the sheriff, or to return his compliments with any thing but a curse. But, now that a Spaniard was within hail, I felt a sudden lifting of the weight that was on my heart. I shouted for champagne! The steward brought it with alacrity, and poured with trembling hand the bumpers I drained to Saint Jago and old Spain. The infection soon spread. They began to believe that a rescue was at hand. The news was heard with dismay in the forecastle. Brulôt alone stood obstinate, but indecisive. Presently, I called him to join me in a glass, and, as we drank the foaming liquid, I pledged him to another "within twenty-four hours beneath the Spanish flag." The Gaul feigned a sort of hectic hilarity as he swallowed the wine and the toast, but he could not stand the flash of revenge in my eye and burning cheek, and retired to consult with his officers. CHAPTER XXVII. I slept soundly that night; but the sun was not clear of the forest when I hobbled on deck in my shackles, and was searching the seaward horizon for my beloved Castilian. Presently the breeze began to freshen, and the tall, raking masts of a schooner were seen gliding above the tops of the mangroves that masked the Rio Pongo's mouth. Very soon the light wind and tide drifted her clear of the bends, and an anchor was let go within musket shot of my prison, while springs were run out to the bushes to give range to her broadside. I saw at once, from her manoeuvres, that Ormond had communicated with the craft during the night. Brulôt felt that his day was over. The Spaniard's decks were crowded with an alert, armed crew; four charming little bull-dogs showed their muzzles from port holes; while a large brass swivel, amidships, gave token of its readiness to fight or salute. For a minute or two the foiled Frenchman surveyed the scene through his glass; then, throwing it over his shoulder, ordered the mate to strike off my "darbies." As the officer obeyed, a voice was heard from the Spaniard, commanding a boat to be sent aboard, under penalty of a shot if not instantly obeyed. The boat was lowered; but who would man her? The chief officer refused; the second declined; the French sailors objected; the Creoles and mulattoes from St. Thomas went below; so that no one was left to fulfil the slaver's order but Brulôt or myself. "_Bien!_" said my crest-fallen cock, "it's your turn to crow, Don Téodore. Fortune seems on your side, and you are again free. Go to the devil, if you please, _mon camarade_, and send your imps for the slaves as soon as you want them!" By this time the Spaniard had lighted his matches, levelled his guns, and, under the aim of his musketry, repeated the order for a boat. Seeing the danger of our party, I leaped to the bulwarks, and hailing my deliverer in Spanish, bade him desist. The request was obeyed as I threw myself into the yawl, cut the rope, and, alone, sculled the skiff to the slaver. A shout went up from the deck of my deliverer as I jumped aboard and received the cordial grasp of her commander. Ali-Ninpha, too, was there to greet and defend me with a chosen band of his people. While I was absorbed in the joy of welcome and liberation, the African stole with his band to the Frenchman's boat, and was rapidly filling it to board the foe, when my clerk apprised me of the impending danger. I was fortunate enough to control the enraged savage, else I know not what might have been the fate of Brulôt and the officers during the desertion of his mongrel and cowardly crew. The captain desired his mates to keep an eye on the Gaul while we retired to the cabin for consultation; and here I learned that I was on board the "Esperanza," consigned to me from Matanzas. In turn, I confirmed the account they had already heard of my mishap from the Mongo's messengers; but hoped the Cuban captain would permit me to take pacific revenge after my own fashion, inasmuch as my captor--barring the irons--had behaved with uncommon civility. I had no trouble, of course, in obtaining the commander's assent to this request, though he yielded it under the evident displeasure of his crew, whose Spanish blood was up against the Frenchman, and would willingly have inflicted a signal punishment on this neutral ground. After these preliminaries, Captain Escudero and myself returned to the "La Perouse" with two boat-loads of armed followers, while our approach was covered by the cannons and small arms of the "Esperanza." Brulôt received us in moody silence on the quarter-deck. His officers sat sulkily on a gun to leeward, while two or three French seamen walked to and fro on the forecastle. My first command was to spike the vessel's guns. Next, I decreed and superintended the disembarkation of the stolen slaves; and, lastly, I concluded the morning call with a request that Brulôt would _produce the five hundred doubloons and his "promissory note" for two hundred slaves_! The fatal document, duly indorsed, was quickly delivered, but no persuasion or threat induced the angry Gaul to show his gold, or a manifest of the cargo. After ample indulgence, I despatched a man to seek his writing-desk, and discovered that six hundred doubloons had in reality been shipped in St. Thomas. Of course, their production was imperiously demanded; but Brulôt swore they had been landed, with his supercargo, in the neighboring Rio Nunez. I was near crediting the story, when a slight sneer I perceived flickering over the steward's face, put me on the _qui vive_ to request an inspection of the log-book, which, unfortunately for my captor, did not record the disembarkation of the cash. This demonstrated Brulôt's falsehood, and authorized a demand for his trunk. The knave winced as the steward descended to bring it; and he leaped with rage as I split it with a hatchet, and counted two hundred and fifty Mexican doubloons on the deck. _His cargo, however, proved to be a sham of samples._ Turning innocently to Escudero, I remarked that he must have been put to considerable trouble in rescuing me from this outlaw, and hoped he would suffer his men to be recompensed for their extra toil under the rays of an African sun. I would not venture to judge the value of such devoted services; but requested him to fix his own price and receive payment on the spot. Escudero very naturally supposed that _about_ two hundred and fifty Mexican ounces would compensate him to a fraction, and, accordingly, the two hundred and fifty shiners, glistening on the deck, forthwith returned to their bag and went overboard into his boat. "_Adieu! mon cher_," said I, as I followed the gold; "_la fortune de guerre_ has many phases, you see; how do you like this one? The next game you play on the coast of Africa, my chicken, recollect that though a _knave_ can take a trick, yet the _knave may be trumped before the hand is played out_!" CHAPTER XXVIII. La Esperanza discharged her cargo rapidly, but, before I was ready to send back a living freight, poor Escudero fell a victim to African fever. I had seen much of the country; I had made some money; my clerk was a reliable fellow; I was growing somewhat anxious for a change of scene; and, in fact, I only wanted a decent excuse to find myself once more aboard a "skimmer of the seas," for a little relaxation after the oppressive monotony of a slaver's life. Escudero's death seemed to offer the desired opportunity. His mate was an inexperienced seaman; his officers were unacquainted with the management of a slave cargo; and, upon a view of the whole field of interests, I thought it best to take charge of the schooner and pay a visit to my friends in Cuba. In the mean time, however, a Danish brig arrived for negroes, so that it became necessary for me, with my multiplied duties, to bestir myself in the collection of slaves. Whilst I was dining one afternoon at Ormond's factory with the Danish captain of the trader, the boom of a gun, followed rapidly by two or three more, announced the arrival of another craft. We drank a toast to his advent, and were beginning to condole a little over our difficulty in procuring blacks, when the look-out ran into our room with the report that my Spaniard was firing into the Dane. We rushed to the piazza whence the scene of action might be beheld, and another shot from my vessel seemed to indicate that she was the aggressor. The Dane and myself hurried aboard our respective schooners, but when I reached the Esperanza, my crew were weighing anchor, while the quarter-deck was strewn with fire-arms. The mate stood on the heel of the bowsprit, urging his men to alacrity; the sailors hove at the windlass with mingled shouts of passion and oaths of revenge; on a mattress lay the bleeding form of my second officer, while a seaman groaned beside him with a musket ball in his shoulder. My arrival was the signal for a pause. As quickly as possible, I inquired into the affray, which had originated like many a sailor's dispute, on a question of precedence at the watering place in a neighboring brook. The Danes were seven, and we but three. Our Spaniards had been driven off, and my second mate, in charge of the yawl, received a _trenchant_ blow from an oar-blade, which cut his skull and felled him senseless on the sand. Of course, "the watering" was over for the day, and both boats returned to their vessels to tell their stories. The moment the Danes got on board, they imprudently ran up their ensign; and, as this act of apparent defiance occurred just as the Esperanza was receiving the lifeless form of her officer, my excited crew discharged a broadside in reply to the warlike token. Gun followed gun, and musketry rattled against musketry. The Dane miscalculated the range of the guns, and his grape fell short of my schooner, while our snarling sixes made sad havoc with his bulwarks and rigging. I had hardly learned the facts of the case and thought of a truce, when the passionate Northman sent a round-shot whistling over my head. Another and another followed in its wake, but they aimed too high for damage. At twenty-four our blood is not so diplomatically pacific as in later years, and this second aggression rekindled the lava in my Italian veins. There was no longer question of a white flag or a parley. In a twinkling, I slipped my cable and ran up the jib and mainsail, so as to swing the schooner into a raking position at short quarters; and before the Dane could counteract my manoeuvre, I gave him a dose of grape and cannister which tore his ensign to ribbons and spoiled the looks of his hull materially. My second shot splintered the edge of his mast; but while I was making ready for a third, to tickle him betwixt wind and water, down tumbled his impertinent pendant and the day was won. For a while there was a dead silence between the warriors. Neither hailed nor sent a boat on board of the other. Ormond perceived this cessation of hostilities from his piazza at Bangalang, and coming out in a canoe, rowed to the Dane after hearing my version of the battle. I waited anxiously either for his return or a message, but as I was unadvised of the Mongo's views and temper in regard to the affray, I thought it well, before dark, to avoid treachery by quitting the river and placing my schooner in a creek with her broadside to the shore. Special charge was then given to the mate and men to be alert all night long; after which, I went on shore to protect the rear by placing my factory in a state of defence. But my precautions were needless. At daylight the guard brought us news of the Dane's departure, and when I descended the river to Bangalang, Ormond alleged that the slaver had sailed for Sierra Leone to seek succor either from a man-of-war or the British government. It may be supposed that I was not so "green" in Africa as to believe this story. No vessel, equipped for a slave cargo, would dare to enter the imperial colony. Yet the Northman had bitter cause for grief and anger. His vessel was seriously harmed by my grape-shot; his carpenter was slain during the action; and three of his seaman were lingering with desperate wounds. In a few days, however, he returned to the Rio Pongo from his airing on the Atlantic, where his wrath had probably been somewhat cooled by the sea-breeze. His craft was anchored higher up the river than my Spaniard, and thus our crews avoided intercourse for the future. But this was not the case with the captains. The Mongo's table was a sort of neutral ground, at which we met with cold salutations but without conversation. Ormond and the Dane, however, became exceedingly intimate. Indeed, the mulatto appeared to exhibit a degree of friendship for the Margaritan I had never seen him bestow on any one else. This singularity, together with his well-known insincerity, put me on my guard to watch his proceedings with increased caution. Personal observation is always a safe means of self-assurance; yet I have sometimes found it to be "a way of the world,"--not to be altogether scorned or disregarded,--to _purchase_ the good will of "confidential" persons. Accordingly, I made it "worth the while" of Ormond's body-servant to sift the secret of this sudden devotion; and in a few days the faithless slave, who spoke English remarkably well, told me that the Dane, by dint of extra pay and the secret delivery of all his spare provisions and the balance of his cargo, had induced the Mongo to promise the delivery of his slaves before mine. Now, Ormond, by a specific contract,--made and paid for before the Dane's arrival,--owed me two hundred negroes on account of the Esperanza's cargo. The Dane knew this perfectly, but my severe chastisement rankled in his heart, and made him seek revenge in the most effectual way on the coast of Africa. He was bent upon depriving me of one hundred negroes, in the hands of Mr. Ormond. I said nothing of my discovery, nor did I make any remarks on the astonishing love that existed between these Siamese twins; still, I kept my eye on Ormond's _barracoon_ until I found his stock had gradually augmented to three hundred. Thereupon, I dropped in one morning unceremoniously, and, in a gentle voice, told him of his treacherous design. My ancient patron was so degraded by debauchery, that he not only avoided a passionate outburst when I made the charge, but actually seemed to regard it as a sort of capital joke, or recompense for the damage I had inflicted on the Dane! We did not dream of arguing the propriety or impropriety of his conduct; nor did I think of upbraiding him with baseness, as I would have done any one who had dipped only his finger-tips in fraud. Still, ever and anon, I saw a glimmer of former spirit in the wretch, and thought I would attempt a counter-mine of interest, which Ormond might probably understand and grasp. I resolved, in fact, to _outbid_ the Dane, for I thought I possessed a card that could take him. Accordingly, I offered to surrender a bond for one hundred slaves he owed me on account of the Esperanza; I promised, moreover, one hundred and fifty negroes, to be delivered that evening,--and I tendered _Brulôt's promissory note for the missing two hundred darkies_,--if he would pledge himself _to load the Dane during the succeeding night_! Ormond took the hint like tinder, and grasped my hand on the bargain. The Dane was ordered to prepare his vessel to receive cargo without delay, and was specially desired _to drop down about fifteen miles towards the bar, so as to be off the moment his slaves were under hatches_! For the next six hours there was not a busier bee on the Rio Pongo than Don Téodore. My schooner was put in ship-shape for cargo. The mate was ordered to have his small arms and cutlasses in perfect condition. Our pivot gun was double-loaded with chain-shot. My factory was set in order, and written directions given the clerk in anticipation of a four months' absence. Ali-Ninpha was put in charge of the territorial domain, while my Spaniard was intrusted with the merchandise. It was encouraging to see, in the course of the afternoon, that my northern rival had swallowed the bait, for he borrowed a kedge to aid him, as he said, in descending the river against the tide, in order to "_get a better berth_." He found the trees and air uncomfortable sixteen miles from the bar, and wanted to approach it to be "nearer the sea-breeze!" The adroitness of his excuse made me laugh in my sleeve, as the clumsy trickster shot past me with his sails unbent. Well,--night came on, with as much darkness as ever robes the star-lit skies of Africa when the moon is obscured. My long boat was quickly filled with ten men, armed with pistol and cutlass; and in a short time, the canoes from Bangalang hove in sight with their sable burden. I boarded the first one myself, commanding the rowers to pull for my Spaniard. The second was seized by the mate, who followed in my wake. The third, fourth, fifth and sixth, shared the same fate in rapid succession; so that, in an hour, three hundred and seventy-five negroes were, safe beneath the Esperanza's deck. Thereupon, I presented the head-man of each canoe a document acknowledging the receipt of his slaves, _and wrote an order on the Mongo in favor of the Dane, for the full amount of the darkies I had borrowed_! The land wind sprang up and the tide turned when daylight warned me it was time to be off; and, as I passed the Dane snugly at anchor just inside the bar, I called all hands to give three cheers, and to wish him happiness in the "enjoyment of his sea-breeze." CHAPTER XXIX. When the land-breeze died away, it fell entirely calm, and the sea continued an unruffled mirror for three days, during which the highlands remained in sight, like a faint cloud in the east. The glaring sky and the reflecting ocean acted and reacted on each other until the air glowed like a furnace. During night a dense fog enveloped the vessel with its clammy folds. When the vapor lifted on the fourth morning, our look-out announced a sail from the mast-head, and every eye was quickly sweeping the landward horizon in search of the stranger. Our spies along the beach had reported the coast clear of cruisers when I sailed, so that I hardly anticipated danger from men-of-war; nevertheless, we held it discreet to avoid intercourse, and accordingly, our double-manned sweeps were rigged out to impel us slowly towards the open ocean. Presently, the mate went aloft with his glass, and, after a deliberate gaze, exclaimed: "It is only the Dane,--I see his flag." At this my crew swore they would sooner fight than sweep in such a latitude; and, with three cheers, came aft to request that I would remain quietly where I was until the Northman overhauled us. We made so little headway with oars that I thought the difference trifling, whether we pulled or were becalmed. Perhaps, it might be better to keep the hands fresh, if a conflict proved inevitable. I passed quickly among the men, with separate inquiries as to their readiness for battle, and found all--from the boy to the mate--anxious, at every hazard, to do their duty. Our breakfast was as cold as could be served in such a climate, but I made it palatable with a case of claret. When a sail on the coast of Africa heaves in sight of _a slaver_, it is always best for the imperilled craft, especially if gifted with swift hull and spreading wings, to take flight without the courtesies that are usual in mercantile sea-life. At the present day, fighting is, of course, out of the question, and the valuable prize is abandoned by its valueless owners. At all times, however,--and as a guard against every risk, whether the cue be to fight or fly,--the prudent slaver, as soon as he finds himself in the neighborhood of unwholesome canvas, puts out his fire, nails his forecastle, sends his negroes below, and secures the gratings over his hatches. All these preparations were quietly made on board the Esperanza; and, in addition, I ordered a supply of small arms and ammunition on deck, where they were instantly covered with blankets. Every man was next stationed at his post, or where he might be most serviceable. The cannons were sponged and loaded with care; and, as I desired to deceive our new acquaintance, I ran up the Portuguese flag. The calm still continued as the day advanced;--indeed, I could not perceive a breath of air by our dog-vane, which veered from side to side as the schooner rolled slowly on the lazy swell. The stranger did not approach, nor did we advance. There we hung-- "A painted ship upon a painted ocean!" I cannot describe the fretful anxiety which vexes a mind under such circumstances. Slaves below; a blazing sun above; the boiling sea beneath; a withering air around; decks piled with materials of death; escape unlikely; a phantom in chase behind; the ocean like an unreachable eternity before; uncertainty every where; and, within your skull, a feverish mind, harassed by doubt and responsibility, yet almost craving for any act of desperation that will remove the spell. It is a living nightmare, from which the soul pants to be free. With torments like these, I paced the deck for half an hour beneath the awning, when, seizing a telescope and mounting the rigging, I took deliberate aim at the annoyer. He was full seven or eight miles away from us, but very soon I saw, or fancied I saw, a row of ports, which the Dane had not: then sweeping the horizon a little astern of the craft, I distinctly made out three boats, fully manned, making for us with ensigns flying. Anxious to avoid a panic, I descended leisurely, and ordered the sweeps to be spread once more in aid of the breeze, which, within the last ten minutes, had freshened enough to fan us along about a knot an hour. Next, I imparted my discovery to the officers; and, passing once more among the men to test their nerves, I said it was likely they would have to encounter an angrier customer than the Dane. In fact, I frankly told them our antagonist was unquestionably a British cruiser of ten or twelve guns, from whose clutches there was no escape, unless we repulsed the boats. I found my crew as confident in the face of augmented risk as they had been when we expected the less perilous Dane. Collecting their votes for fight or surrender, I learned that all _but two_ were in favor of resistance. I had no doubt in regard _to the mates_, in our approaching trials. By this time the breeze had again died away to utter calmness, while the air was so still and fervent that our sweltering men almost sank at the sweeps. I ordered them in, threw overboard several water-casks that encumbered the deck, and hoisted our boat to the stern-davits to prevent boarding in that quarter. Things were perfectly ship-shape all over the schooner, and I congratulated myself that her power had been increased by two twelve pound carronades, the ammunition, and part of the crew of a Spanish slaver, abandoned on the bar of Rio Pongo a week before my departure. We had in all seven guns, and abundance of musketry, pistols and cutlasses, to be wielded and managed by thirty-seven hands. By this time the British boats, impelled by oars alone, approached within half a mile, while the breeze sprang up in cat's-paws all round the eastern horizon, but without fanning us with a single breath. Taking advantage of one of these slants, the cruiser had followed her boats, but now, about five miles off, was again as perfectly becalmed as _we_ had been all day. Presently, I observed the boats converge within the range of my swivel, and lay on their oars as if for consultation. I seized this opportunity, while the enemy was huddled together, to give him the first welcome; and, slewing the schooner round with my sweeps, I sent him a shot from my swivel. But the ball passed over their heads, while, with three cheers, they separated,--the largest boat making directly for our waist, while the others steered to cross our bow and attack our stern. During the chase my weapons, with the exception of the pivot gun, were altogether useless, but I kept a couple of sweeps ahead and a couple astern to play the schooner, and employed that loud-tongued instrument as the foe approached. The larger boat, bearing a small carronade, was my best target, yet we contrived to miss each other completely until my sixth discharge, when a double-headed shot raked the whole bank of starboard oar-blades, and disabled the rowers by the severe concussion. This paralyzed the launch's advance, and allowed me to devote my exclusive attention to the other boats; yet, before I could bring the schooner in a suitable position, a signal summoned the assailants aboard the cruiser to repair damages. I did not reflect until this moment of reprieve, that, early in the day, I had hoisted the Portuguese ensign _to deceive the Dane_, and imprudently left it aloft in the presence of _John Bull_! I struck the false flag at once, unfurled the Spanish, and refreshing the men with a double allowance of grog and grub, put them again to the sweeps. When the cruisers reached their vessels, the men instantly re-embarked, while the boats were allowed to swing alongside, which convinced me that the assault would be renewed as soon as the rum and roast-beef of Old England had strengthened the heart of the adversary. Accordingly, noon had not long passed when our pursuers again embarked. Once more they approached, divided as before, and again we exchanged ineffectual shots. I kept them at bay with grape and musketry until I hear three o'clock, when a second signal of retreat was hoisted on the cruiser, and answered by exultant _vivas_ from my crew. It grieved me, I confess, not to mingle my voice with these shouts, for I was sure that the lion retreated to make a better spring, nor was I less disheartened when the mate reported that nearly all the ammunition for our cannons was exhausted. Seven kegs of powder were still in the magazine, though not more than a dozen rounds of grape, cannister, or balls, remained in the locker. There was still an abundance of cartridges for pistols and musketry, but these were poor defences against resolute Englishmen whose blood was up and who would unquestionably renew the charge with reinforcements of vigorous men. Fore and aft, high and low, we searched for missiles. Musket balls were crammed in bags; bolts and nails were packed in cartridge paper; slave shackles were formed with rope-yarns into chain-shot; and, in an hour, we were once more tolerably prepared to pepper the foe. When these labors terminated, I turned my attention to the relaxed crew, portions of whom refused wine, and began to sulk about the decks. As yet only two had been slightly scratched by spent musket balls; but so much discontent began to appear among the passenger-sailors of the wrecked slaver, that my own hands could with difficulty restrain them from revolt. I felt much difficulty in determining how to act, but I had no time for deliberation. Violence was clearly not my _rôle_, but persuasion was a delicate game in such straits among men whom I did not command with the absolute authority of a master. I cast my eye over the taffrail, and seeing that the British boats were still afar, I followed my first impulse, and calling the whole gang to the quarter-deck, tried the effect of African palaver and Spanish gold. I spoke of the perils of capture and of the folly of surrendering _a slaver_ while there was the slightest _hope_ of escape. I painted the unquestionable result of being taken after such resistance as had already been made. I drew an accurate picture of a tall and dangerous instrument on which piratical gentlemen have sometimes been known to terminate their lives; and finally, I attempted to improve the rhythm of my oratory by a couple of golden ounces to each combatant, and the promise of a slave apiece at the end of our _successful_ voyage. My suspense was terrible, as there,--on the deck of a slaver, amid calm, heat, battle, and mutiny, with a volcano of three hundred and seventy-five imprisoned devils below me,--I awaited a reply, which, favorable or unfavorable, I must hear without emotion. Presently, three or four came forward and accepted my offer. I shrugged my shoulders, and took half a dozen turns up and down the deck. Then, turning to the crowd, I _doubled my bounty_, and offering a boat to take the recusants on board the enemy, swore that I would stand by the Esperanza with my unaided crew in spite of the _dastards_! The offensive word with which I closed the harangue seemed to touch the right string of the Spanish guitar, and in an instant I saw the dogged heads spring up with a jerk of mortified pride, while the steward and cabin-boy poured in a fresh supply of wine, and a shout of union went up from both divisions. I lost no time in confirming my converts; and, ramming down my eloquence with a wad of doubloons, ordered every man to his post, for the enemy was again in motion. But he did not come alone. New actors had appeared on the scene during my engagement with the crew. The sound of the cannonade had been heard, it seems, by a consort of his Britannic Majesty's brig * * * *;[E] and, although the battle was not within her field of vision, she despatched another squadron of boats under the guidance of the reports that boomed through the silent air. The first division of my old assailants was considerably in advance of the reinforcement; and, in perfect order, approached us in a solid body, with the apparent determination of boarding on the same side. Accordingly, I brought all my weapons and hands to that quarter, and told both gunners and musketeers not to fire without orders. Waiting their discharge I allowed them to get close; but the commander of the launch seemed to anticipate my plan by the reservation of his fire till he could draw mine, in order to throw his other boat-loads on board under the smoke of his swivel and small arms. It was odd to witness our mutual forbearance, nor could I help laughing, even in the midst of danger, at the mutual checkmate we were trying to prepare. However, my Britons did not avoid pulling, though they omitted firing, so that they were already rather perilously close when I thought it best to give them the contents of my pivot, which I had crammed almost to the muzzle with bolts and bullets. The discharge paralyzed the advance, while my carronades flung a quantity of grape into the companion boats. In turn, however, they plied us so deftly with balls from swivels and musketry, that five of our most valuable defenders writhed in death on the deck. The rage of battle at closer quarters than heretofore, and the screams of bleeding comrades beneath their feet, roused to its fullest extent the ardent nature of my Spanish crew. They tore their garments; stripped to their waists; called for rum; and swore they would die rather than yield! By this time the consort's reinforcement was rapidly approaching; and, with hurrah after hurrah, the five fresh boats came on in double column. As they drew within shot, each cheer was followed with a fatal volley, under which several more of our combatants were prostrated, while a glancing musket ball lacerated my knee with a painful wound. For five minutes we met this onset with cannon, muskets, pistols, and enthusiastic shouts; but in the despairing confusion of the hour, the captain of our long gun rammed home his ball before the powder, so that when the priming burnt, the most reliable of our weapons was silent forever! At this moment a round shot from the launch dismounted a carronade;--our ammunition was wasted;--and in this disabled state, the Britons prepared to board our crippled craft. Muskets, bayonets, pistols, swords, and knives, for a space kept them at bay, even at short quarters; but the crowded boats tumbled their enraged fighters over our forecastle like surges from the sea, and, cutlass in hand, the victorious furies swept every thing before them. The cry was to "spare no one!" Down went sailor after sailor, struggling with the frenzied passion of despair. Presently an order went forth to split the gratings and release the slaves. I clung to my post and cheered the battle to the last; but when I heard this fatal command, which, if obeyed, might bury assailant and defender in common ruin, I ordered the remnant to throw down their arms, while I struck the flag and warned the rash and testy Englishman to beware. The senior officer of the boarding party belonged to the division from the cruiser's consort. As he reached the deck, his element eye fell sadly on the scene of blood, and he commanded "quarter" immediately. It was time. The excited boarders from the repulsed boats had mounted our deck brimming with revenge. Every one that opposed was cut down without mercy; and in another moment, it is likely I would have joined the throng of the departed. All was over! There was a hushed and panting crowd of victors and vanquished on the bloody deck, when the red ball of the setting sun glared through a crimson haze and filled the motionless sea with liquid fire. For the first time that day I became sensible of personal sufferings. A stifling sensation made me gasp for air as I sat down on the taffrail of my captured schooner, and felt that I was--a prisoner! FOOTNOTE: [E] It will be understood by the reader, hereafter, why I omit the cruiser's name. CHAPTER XXX. After a brief pause, the commanding officers of both divisions demanded my papers, which, while I acknowledged myself _his_ prisoner, I yielded to the _senior_ personage who had humanely stopped the massacre. I saw that this annoyed the other, whom I had so frequently repulsed; yet I thought the act fair as well as agreeable to my feelings, for I considered my crew competent to resist the _first division successfully_, had it not been succored by the consort's boats. But my decision was not submitted to by the defeated leader without a dispute, which was conducted with infinite harshness, until the senior ended the quarrel by ordering his junior to tow the prize within reach of the corvette * * * *. My boat, though somewhat riddled with balls, was lowered, and I was commanded to go on board the captor, with my papers and servant under the escort of a midshipman. The captain stood at the gangway as I approached, and, seeing my bloody knee, ordered me not to climb the ladder, but to be hoisted on deck and sent below for the immediate care of my wound. It was hardly more than a severe laceration of flesh, yet was quite enough to prevent me from bending my knee, though it did not deny locomotion with a stiff leg. The dressing over,--during which I had quite a pleasant chat with the amiable surgeon,--I was summoned to the cabin, where numerous questions were put, all of which I answered frankly and _truly_. Thirteen of my crew were slain, and nearly all the rest wounded. My papers were next inspected, and found to be Spanish. "How was it, then," exclaimed the commander, "that you fought under the Portuguese flag?" Here was the question I always expected, and for which I had in vain taxed my wit and ingenuity to supply a reasonable excuse! I had nothing to say for the daring violation of nationality; so I resolved to tell the truth boldly about my dispute with the Dane, and my desire to deceive him early in the day, but I cautiously omitted the adroitness with which I had deprived him of his darkies. I confessed that I forgot the flag when I found I had a different foe from the Dane to contend with, and I flattered myself with the hope that, had I repulsed the first unaided onset, I would have been able to escape with the usual sea-breeze. The captain looked at me in silence a while, and, in a sorrowful voice, asked if I was aware that my defence under the Portuguese ensign, no matter what tempted its use, could only be construed as an act of _piracy_! A change of color, an earnest gaze at the floor, compressed lips and clenched teeth, were my only replies. This painful scrutiny took place before the surgeon, whose looks and expressions strongly denoted his cordial sympathy with my situation. "Yes," said Captain * * * *, "it is a pity for a sailor who fights as bravely as you have done, in defence of what he considers his property, to be condemned for a combination of mistakes and forgetfulness. However, let us not hasten matters; you are hungry and want rest, and, though we are navy-men, and on the coast of Africa, we are not savages." I was then directed to remain where I was till further orders, while my servant came below with an abundant supply of provisions. The captain went on deck, but the doctor remained. Presently, I saw the surgeon and the commander's steward busy over a basket of biscuits, meat and bottles, to the handle of which a cord, several yards in length, was carefully knotted. After this was arranged, the doctor called for a lamp, and unrolling a chart, asked whether I knew the position of the vessel. I replied affirmatively, and, at his request, measured the distance, and noted the course to the nearest land, which was Cape Verga, about thirty-seven miles off. "Now, Don Téodore, if I were in your place, with the prospect of a noose and tight-rope dancing before me, I have not the slightest hesitation in saying that I would make an attempt to know what Cape Verga is made of before twenty-four hours were over my head! And see, my good fellow, how Providence, accident, or fortune favors you! First of all, your own boat _happens_ to be towing astern beneath these very cabin windows; secondly, a basket of provisions, water and brandy, stands packed on the transom, almost ready to slip into the boat by itself; next, your boy is in the neighborhood to help you with the skiff; and, finally, it is pitch dark, perfectly calm, and there isn't a sentry to be seen aft the cabin door. Now, good night, my clever fighter, and let me never have the happiness of seeing your face again!" As he said this, he rose, shaking my hand with the hearty grasp of a sailor, and, as he passed my servant, slipped something into his pocket, which proved to be a couple of sovereigns. Meanwhile, the steward appeared with blankets, which he spread on the locker; and, blowing out the lamp, went on deck with a "good night." It was very still, and unusually dark. There was dead silence in the corvette. Presently, I crawled softly to the stern window, and lying flat on my stomach over the transom, peered out into night. There, in reality, was my boat towing astern by a slack line! As I gazed, some one on deck above me drew in the rope with softest motion, until the skiff lay close under the windows. Patiently, slowly, cautiously,--fearing the sound of his fall, and dreading almost the rush of my breath in the profound silence,--I lowered my boy into the boat. The basket followed. The negro fastened the boat-hook to the cabin window, and on this, lame as I was, I followed the basket. Fortunately, not a plash, a crack, or a footfall disturbed the silence. I looked aloft, and no one was visible on the quarter-deck. A slight jerk brought the boat-rope softly into the water, and I drifted away into the darkness. CHAPTER XXXI. I drifted without a word or motion, and almost without breathing, until the corvette was perfectly obliterated against the hazy horizon. When every thing was dark around me, save the guiding stars, I put out the oars and pulled quietly towards the east. At day-dawn I was apparently alone on the ocean. My appetite had improved so hugely by the night's exercise, that my first devotion was to the basket, which I found crammed with bologña sausages, a piece of salt junk, part of a ham, abundance of biscuit, four bottles of water, two of brandy, a pocket compass, a jack-knife, and a large table-cloth or sheet, which the generous doctor had no doubt inserted to serve as a sail. The humbled _slaver_ and the _slave_, for the first time in their lives, broke bread from the same basket, and drank from the same bottle! Misfortune had strangely and suddenly levelled us on the basis of common humanity. The day before, he was the most servile of menials; to-day he was my equal, and, probably, my superior in certain physical powers, without which I would have perished! As the sun ascended in the sky, my wound became irritated by exercise, and the inflammation produced a feverish torment in which I groaned as I lay extended in the stern-sheets. By noon a breeze sprang up from the south-west, so that the oars and table-cloth supplied a square sail which wafted us about three miles an hour, while my boy rigged an awning with the blankets and boat-hooks. Thus, half reclining, I steered landward till midnight, when I took in the sail and lay-to on the calm ocean till morning. Next day the breeze again favored us; and, by sundown, I came up with the coasting canoe of a friendly Mandingo, into which I at once exchanged my quarters, and falling asleep, never stirred till he landed me on the Islands de Loss. My wound kept me a close and suffering prisoner in a hut on the isles for ten days during which I despatched a native canoe some thirty five or forty miles to the Rio Pongo with news of my disaster, and orders for a boat with an equipment of comforts. As my clerk neglected to send a suit of clothes, I was obliged to wear the Mandingo habiliments till I reached my factory, so that during my transit, this dress became the means of an odd encounter. As I entered the Rio Pongo, a French brigantine near the bar was the first welcome of civilization that cheered my heart for near a fortnight. Passing her closely, I drifted alongside, and begged the commander for a bottle of claret. My brown skin, African raiment, and savage companions satisfied the skipper that I was a native, so that, with a sneer, he, of course, became very solicitous to know "where I drank claret _last_?" and pointing to the sea, desired me to quench my thirst with brine! It was rather hard for a suffering Italian to be treated so cavalierly by a Gaul; but I thanked the fellow for his civility in such excellent French, that his tone instantly changed, and he asked--"_au nom de Dieu_, where I had learned the language!" It is likely I would have rowed off without detection, had I not just then been recognized by one of his officers who visited my factory the year before. In a moment the captain was in my boat with a bound, and grasping my hands with a thousand pardons, insisted I should not ascend the river till I had dined with him. He promised a plate of capital soup;--and where, I should like to know, is the son of France or Italy who is ready to withstand the seduction of such a provocative? Besides this, he insisted on dressing me from his scanty wardrobe; but as he declined all subsequent remuneration, I confined my bodily improvement to a clean shirt and his wiry razors. While the _bouillon_ was bubbling in the coppers, I got an insight into the condition of Rio Pongo concerns since my departure. The Dane was off after a quarrel with Ormond, who gave him but a hundred negroes for his cargo; and a Spanish brig was waiting my arrival,--for the boy I sent home from the Isles de Loss had reported my engagement, capture, and escape. _La soupe sur la table_, we attacked a smoking tureen of _bouillon gras_, while a heaping dish of toasted bread stood in the middle. The captain loaded my plate with two slices of this sunburnt material, which he deluged with a couple of ladles of savory broth. A long fast is a good sauce, and I need not assert that I began _sans façon_. My appetite was sharp, and the vapor of the liquid inviting. For a while there was a dead silence, save when broken by smacking and relishing lips. Spoonful after spoonful was sucked in as rapidly as the heat allowed; and, indeed, I hardly took time to bestow a blessing on the cook. Being the guest of the day, my plate had been the first one served, and of course, was the first one finished. Perhaps I rather hurried myself, for lenten diet made me greedy and I was somewhat anxious to anticipate the calls of my companions on the tureen. Accordingly, I once more ballasted my plate with toast, and, with a charming bow and a civil "_s'il vous plait_," applied, like Oliver Twist, "for more." As the captain was helping me to the second ladle, he politely demanded whether I was "fond of the thick;" and as I replied in the affirmative, he made another dive to the bottom and brought up the instrument with a heaping mass in whose centre was a diminutive African skull, face upwards, gaping at the guests with an infernal grin! My plate fell from my hand at the tureen's edge. The boiling liquid splashed over the table. I stood fascinated by the horrible apparition as the captain continued to hold its dreadful bones in view. Presently my head swam; a painful oppression weighed at my heart; I was ill; and, in a jiffy, the appalling spectre was laid beneath the calm waters of the Rio Pongo. Before sundown I made a speedy retreat from among the _anthropophagi_; but all their assurances, oaths, and protestations, could not satisfy me that the broth did not owe its substance to something more human than an African _baboon_. CHAPTER XXXII. There was rejoicing that night in Kambia among my people, for it is not necessary that a despised slaver should always be a cruel master. I had many a friend among the villagers, both there and at Bangalang, and when the "barker" came from the Isles _de Loss_ with the news of my capture and misery, the settlement had been keenly astir until it was known that Mongo Téodore was safe and sound among his protectors. I had a deep, refreshing sleep after a glorious bath. Poor Esther stole over the palisades of Bangalang to hear the story from my own lips; and, in recompense for the narrative, gave me an account of the river gossip during my adventure. Next morning, bright and early, I was again in my boat, sweeping along towards the "FELIZ" from Matanzas, which was anchored within a bowshot of Bangalang. As I rounded a point in sight of her, the Spanish flag was run up, and as I touched the deck, a dozen cheers and a gun gave token of a gallant reception in consequence of my battle with the British, which had been magnified into a perfect Trafalgar. The Feliz was originally consigned to me from Cuba, but in my absence from the river her commander thought it best not to intrust so important a charge to my clerk, and addressed her to Ormond. When my arrival at the Isles _de Loss_ was announced on the river, his engagement with the Mongo had neither been entirely completed, nor had any cargo been delivered. Accordingly, the skipper at once taxed his wit for a contrivance by which he could escape the bargain. In Africa such things are sometimes done with ease on small pretexts, so that when I reached Kambia my one-hundred-and-forty-ton brig was ready for her original consignee. I found that remittances in money and merchandise covered the value of three hundred and fifty slaves, whom I quickly ordered from different traders;--but when I applied to the Mongo to furnish his share, the gentleman indignantly refused under the affront of his recalled assignment. I tried to pacify and persuade him; yet all my efforts were unavailing. Still, the results of this denial did not affect the Mongo personally and alone. When a factor either declines or is unable to procure trade at an African station, the multitude of hangers-on, ragamuffins, servants and villagers around him suffer, at least, for a time. They cannot understand and are always disgusted when "trade is refused." In this case the people of Bangalang seemed peculiarly dissatisfied with their Mongo's obstinacy. They accused him of indolent disregard of their interests. They charged him with culpable neglect. Several free families departed forthwith to Kambia. His brothers, who were always material sufferers in such cases, upbraided him with arrogant conceit. His women, headed by Fatimah,--who supplied herself and her companions with abundant presents out of every fresh cargo,--rose in open mutiny, and declared they would run off unless he accepted a share of the contract. Fatimah was the orator of the harem on this as well as on all other occasions of display or grievance, and of course she did not spare poor Ormond. Age and drunkenness had made sad inroads on his constitution and looks during the last half year. His fretful irritability sometimes amounted almost to madness, when thirty female tongues joined in the chorus of their leader's assault. They boldly charged him, singly and in pairs, with every vice and fault that injured matrimony habitually denounces; and as each item of this abusive litany was screamed in his ears, the chorus responded with a deep "amen!" They boasted of their infidelities, lauded their lovers, and producing their children, with laughs of derision, bade him note the astounding resemblance! The poor Mongo was sorely beset by these African witches, and summoned his villagers to subdue the revolt; but many of the town-folks were pets of the girls, so that no one came forth to obey his bidding. I visited Ormond at his request on the evening of this rebellion, and found him not only smarting with the morning's insult, but so drunk as to be incapable of business. His revengeful eye and nervous movements denoted a troubled mind. When our hands met, I found the Mongo's cold and clammy. I refused wine under a plea of illness; and when, with incoherent phrases and distracted gestures, he declared his willingness to retract his refusal and accept a share of the Felix's cargo, I thought it best to adjourn the discussion until the following day. Whilst on the point of embarking, I was joined by the faithless servant, whom I bribed to aid me in my affair with the Dane, and was told that Ormond _had drugged the wine in anticipation of my arrival_! He bade me be wary of the Mongo, who in his presence had threatened my life. That morning, he said, while the women were upbraiding him, my name had been mentioned by one with peculiar favor,--when Ormond burst forth with a torrent of passion, and accusing me as the cause of all his troubles, felled the girl to the earth with his fist. That night I was roused by my watchman to see a stranger, and found Esther at my gate with three of her companions. Their tale was brief. Soon after dark, Ormond entered the harem with loaded pistol, in search of Fatimah and Esther; but the wretch was so stupefied by liquor and rage, that the women had little trouble to elude his grasp and escape from Bangalang. Hardly had I bestowed them for the night, when another alarm brought the watchman once more to my chamber, with the news of Ormond's death. He had shot himself through the heart! I was in no mood for sleep after this, and the first streak of dawn found me at Bangalang. There lay the Mongo as he fell. No one disturbed his limbs or approached him till I arrived. He never stirred after the death-wound. It seems he must have forgotten that the bottle had been specially medicated for me, as it was found nearly drained; but the last thing distinctly known of him by the people, was his murderous entrance into the harem to despatch Esther and Fatimah. Soon after this the crack of a pistol was heard in the garden; and there, stretched among the cassava plants, with a loaded pistol grasped in his left, and a discharged one at a short distance from his right hand, laid Jack Ormond, the mulatto! His left breast was pierced by a ball, the wad of which still clung to the bloody orifice. Bad as this man was, I could not avoid a sigh for his death. He had been my first friend in Africa, and I had forfeited his regard through no fault of mine. Besides this, there are so few on the coast of Africa in these lonely settlements among the mangrove swamps, who have tasted European civilization, and can converse like human beings, that the loss even of the worst is a dire calamity. Ormond and myself had held each other for a long time at a wary distance; yet business forced us together now and then, and during the truce, we had many a pleasant chat and joyous hour that would henceforth be lost for ever. It is customary in this part of Africa to make the burial of a _Mongo_ the occasion of a _colungee_, or festival, when all the neighboring chiefs and relations send gifts of food and beverage for the orgies of death. Messengers had been despatched for Ormond's brothers and kinsfolk, so that the native ceremony of interment was postponed till the third day; and, in the interval, I was desired to make all the preparations in a style befitting the suicide's station. Accordingly, I issued the needful orders; directed a deep grave to be dug under a noble cotton-wood tree, aloof from the village; gave the body in charge to women, who were to watch it until burial, with cries of sorrow,--and then retired to Kambia. On the day of obsequies I came back. At noon a salute was fired by the guns of the village, which was answered by minute guns from the Feliz and my factory. Seldom have I heard a sadder sound than the boom of those cannons through the silent forest and over the waveless water. Presently, all the neighboring chiefs, princes and kings came in with their retainers, when the body was brought out into the shade of a grove, so that all might behold it. Then the procession took up its line of march, while the thirty wives of the Mongo followed the coffin, clad in rags, their heads shaven, their bodies lacerated with burning iron, and filling the air with yells and shrieks until the senseless clay was laid in the grave. I could find no English prayer-book or Bible in the village, from which I might read the service of his church over Ormond's remains, but I had never forgotten the _Ave Maria_ and _Pater Noster_ I learned when an infant, and, while I recited them devoutly over the self murderer, I could not help thinking they were even more than sufficient for the savage surroundings. The brief prayer was uttered; but it could not be too brief for the impatient crowd. Its _amen_ was a signal for _pandemonium_. In a twinkling, every foot rushed back to the dwelling in Bangalang. The grove was alive with revelry. Stakes and rocks reeked with roasting bullocks. Here and there, kettles steamed with boiling rice. Demijohn after demijohn of _rum_, was served out. Very soon a sham battle was proposed, and parties were formed. The divisions took their grounds; and, presently, the scouts appeared, crawling like reptiles on the earth till they ascertained each other's position, when the armies rallied forth with guns, bows, arrows, or lances, and, after firing, shrieking and shouting till they were deaf, retired with captives, and the war was done. Then came a reinforcement of rum, and then a dance, so that the bewildering revel continued in all its delirium till rum and humanity gave out together, and reeled to the earth in drunken sleep! Such was the requiem of THE MONGO OF BANGALANG! CHAPTER XXXIII. Slaves dropped in slowly at Kambia and Bangalang, though I still had half the cargo of the Feliz to make up. Time was precious, and there was no foreigner on the river to aid me. In this strait, I suddenly resolved on a foray among the natives on my own account; and equipping a couple of my largest canoes with an ample armament, as well as a substantial store of provisions and merchandise, I departed for the Matacan river, a short stream, unsuitable for vessels of considerable draft. I was prepared for the purchase of fifty slaves. I reached my destination without risk or adventure, but had the opportunity of seeing some new phases of Africanism on my arrival. Most of the coast negroes are wretchedly degraded by their superstitions and _sauvagerie_, and it is best to go among them with power to resist as well as presents to purchase. Their towns did not vary from the river and bush settlements generally. A house was given me for my companions and merchandise; yet such was the curiosity to see the "white man," that the luckless mansion swarmed with sable bees both inside and out, till I was obliged to send for his majesty to relieve my sufferings. After a proper delay, the king made his appearance in all the paraphernalia of African court-dress. A few fathoms of check girded his loins, while a blue shirt and red waistcoat were surmounted by a dragoon's cap with brass ornaments. His countenance was characteristic of Ethiopia and royalty. A narrow forehead retreated rapidly till it was lost in the crisp wool, while his eyes were wide apart, and his prominent cheek-bones formed the base of an inverted cone, the apex of which was his braided beard, coiled up under his chin. When earnest in talk, his gestures were mostly made with his head, by straining his eyes to the rim of their sockets, stretching his mouth from ear to ear, grinning like a baboon, and throwing out his chin horizontally with a sudden jerk. Notwithstanding these personal oddities, the sovereign was kind, courteous, hospitable, and disposed for trade. Accordingly, I "dashed," or presented him and his head-men a few pieces of cottons, with some pipes, beads, and looking-glasses, by way of whet for the appetite of to-morrow. But the division of this gift was no sportive matter. "The spoils" were not regulated upon principles of superiority, or even of equality; but fell to the lot of the stoutest scramblers. As soon as the goods were deposited, the various gangs seized my snowy cottons, dragging them right and left to their several huts, while they shrieked, yelled, disputed, and fought in true African fashion. Some lucky dog would now and then leap between two combatants who had possession of the ends of a piece, and whirling himself rapidly around the middle, slashed the sides with his jack-knife and was off to the bush. The pipes, beads, and looking-glasses, were not bestowed more tenderly, while the tobacco was grabbed and appropriated by leaves or handfuls. Next day we proceeded to formal business. His majesty called a regular "palaver" of his chiefs and head-men, before whom I stated my _dantica_ and announced the terms. Very soon several young folks were brought for sale, who, I am sure, never dreamed at rising from last night's sleep, that they were destined for Cuban slavery! My merchandise revived the memory of peccadilloes that had been long forgotten, and sentences that were forgiven. Jealous husbands, when they tasted my rum, suddenly remembered their wives' infidelities, and sold their better halves for more of the oblivious fluid. In truth I was exalted into a magician, unroofing the village, and baring its crime and wickedness to the eye of _justice_. Law became profitable, and virtue had never reached so high a price! Before night the town was in a turmoil, for every man cudgelled his brain for an excuse to kidnap his neighbor, so as to share my commerce. As the village was too small to supply the entire gang of fifty, I had recourse to the neighboring settlements, where my "barkers," or agents, did their work in a masterly manner. Traps were adroitly baited with goods to lead the unwary into temptation, when the unconscious pilferer was caught by his ambushed foe, and an hour served to hurry him to the beach as a slave for ever. In fact, five days were sufficient to stamp my image permanently on the Matacan settlements, and to associate my memory with any thing but blessings in at least fifty of their families! * * * * * I had heard, on the Rio Pongo, of a wonderful wizard who dwelt in this region, and took advantage of the last day of my detention to inquire his whereabouts. The impostor was renowned for his wonderful tricks of legerdemain, as well as for cures, necromancy, and fortune-telling. The ill came to him by scores; credulous warriors approached him with valuable gifts for _fetiches_ against musket balls and arrows; while the humbler classes bought his charms against snakes, alligators, sharks, evil spirits, or sought his protection for their unborn children. My interpreter had already visited this fellow, and gave such charming accounts of his skill, that all my people wanted their fates divined, for which I was, of course, obliged to advance merchandise to purchase at least a gratified curiosity. When they came back I found every one satisfied with his future lot, and so happy was the chief of my Kroomen that he danced around his new _fetiche_ of cock's feathers and sticks, and snapped his fingers at all the sharks, alligators, and swordfish that swam in the sea. By degrees these reports tickled my own curiosity to such a degree, that, incontinently, I armed myself with a quantity of cotton cloth, a brilliant bandanna, and a lot of tobacco, wherewith I resolved to attack the soothsayer's den. My credulity was not involved to the expedition, but I was sincerely anxious to comprehend the ingenuity or intelligence by which a negro could control the imagination of African multitudes. The wizard chose his abode with skilful and romantic taste. Quitting the town by a path which ascended abruptly from the river, the traveller was forced to climb the steep by a series of dangerous zig-zags among rocks and bushes, until he reached a deep cave in an elevated cliff that bent over the stream. As we approached, my conductor warned the inmate of our coming by several whoops. When we reached the entrance I was directed to halt until the demon announced his willingness to receive us. At length, after as much delay as is required in the antechamber of a secretary of state, a growl, like the cry of a hungry crocodile, gave token of the wizard's coming. As he emerged from the deep interior, I descried an uncommonly tall figure, bearing in his arms a young and living leopard. I could not detect a single lineament of his face or figure, for he was covered from head to foot in a complete dress of monkey skins, while his face was hidden by a grotesque white mask. Behind him groped a delicate blind boy. We seated ourselves on hides along the floor, when, at my bidding, the interpreter, unrolling my gifts, announced that I came with full hands to his wizardship, for the purpose of learning my fortune. The impostor had trained his tame leopard to fetch and carry like a dog, so that, without a word, the docile beast bore the various presents to his master. Every thing was duly measured, examined, or balanced in his hands to ascertain its quality and weight. Then, placing a bamboo between his lips and the blind boy's ear, he whispered the words which the child repeated aloud. First of all, he inquired what I wished to know? As one of his follower's boasts was the extraordinary power he possessed of speaking various languages, I addressed him in Spanish, but as his reply displayed an evident ignorance of what I said, I took the liberty to reprimand him sharply in his native tongue. He waved me off with an imperious flourish of his hand, and ordered me to wait, as he perfectly comprehended my Spanish, but the magic power would not suffer him to answer save in regular rotation, word by word. I saw his trick at once, which was only one of prompt and adroit _repetition_. Accordingly, I addressed him in his native dialect, and requested a translation of my sentence into Spanish. But this was a puzzler; though it required but a moment for him to assure me that a foreign language could only be spoken by wizards of his degree _at the full of the moon_! I thought it time to shift the scene to fortune-telling, and begged my demon to begin the task by relating the past, in order to confirm my belief in his mastery over the future. But the nonsense he uttered was so insufferable, that I dropped the curtain with a run, and commanded "the hereafter" to appear. This, at least, was more romantic. As usual, I was to be immensely rich. I was to become a great prince. I was to have a hundred wives; but alas! before six months elapsed, my factory would be burnt and I should lose a vessel! Presently, the interpreter proposed an exhibition of legerdemain, and in this I found considerable amusement to make up for the preceding buffoonery. He knotted a rope, and untied it with a jerk. He sank a knife deep in his throat, and poured in a vessel of water. Other deceptions followed this skilful trick, but the cleverest of all was the handling of red hot iron, which, after covering his hands with a glutinous paste, was touched in the most fearless manner. I have seen this trick performed by other natives, and whenever ignited coals or ardent metal was used, the hands of the operator were copiously anointed with the pasty unguent. A valedictory growl, and a resumption of the leopard, gave token of the wizard's departure, and closed the evening's entertainments. If the ease with which a man is amused, surprised, or deluded, is a fair measure of intellectual grade, I fear that African minds will take a very moderate rank in the scale of humanity. The task of self-civilization, which resembles the self-filtering of water, has done but little for Ethiopia in the ages that have passed simultaneously over her people and the progressive races of other lands. It remains to be seen what the _infused_ civilization of Christianity and Islamism will effect among these benighted nations. JESUS, MAHOMET, and the FETICHE, will, perhaps, long continue to be their types of distinctive separation. CHAPTER XXXIV. The Esperanza's capture made it absolutely necessary that I should visit Cuba, so that, when the Feliz was preparing to depart, I began to put my factory and affairs in such order as would enable me to embark in her and leave me master of myself for a considerable time. I may as well record the fact here that the unlucky Esperanza was sent to Sierra Leone, where she was, of course, condemned as a slaver, while the officers and crew were despatched by order of the Admiralty, in irons, to _Lisbon_, where a tribunal condemned them to the galleys for five years. I understand they were subsequently released by the clemency of Don Pedro de Braganza when he arrived from Brazil. Every thing was ready for our departure. My rice was stored and about to be sent on board; when, about three o'clock in the morning of the 25th of May, 1828, the voice of my servant roused me from pleasant dreams, to fly for life! I sprang from the cot with a bound to the door, where the flickering of a bright flame, reflected through the thick, misty air, gave token of fire. The roof of my house was in a blaze, and one hundred and fifty kegs of powder were close at hand beneath a thatch! They could not be removed, and a single spark from the frail and tinder-like materials might send the whole in an instant to the skies. A rapid discharge from a double-barrelled gun brought my people to the spot with alacrity, and enabled me to rescue the two hundred and twenty slaves stowed in the _barracoon_, and march them to a neighboring wood, where they would be secure under a guard. In my haste to rescue the slaves I forgot to warn my body-servant of his peril from the powder. The faithful boy made several trips to the dwelling to save my personal effects, and after removing every thing he had strength to carry, returned to unchain the bloodhound that always slept beside my couch in Africa. But the dog was as ignorant of his danger as the youth. _He knew no friend but myself_, and tearing the hand that was exposed to save him, he forced his rescuer to fly. And well was it he did so. Within a minute, a tremendous blast shook the earth, _and the prediction of the Matacan wizard was accomplished_! Not even the red coals of my dwelling smouldered on the earth. Every thing was swept as by the breath of a whirlwind. My terrified boy, bleeding at nose and ears, was rescued from the ruins of a shallow well in which he fortunately fell. The bamboo sheds, barracoons, and hovels,--the _adobe_ dwelling and the comfortable garden--could all spring up again in a short time, as if by enchantment,--but my rich stuffs, my cottons, my provisions, my arms, my ammunition, my capital, were dust. In a few hours, friends crowded round me, according to African custom, with proffered services to rebuild my establishment; but the heaviest loss I experienced was that of the rice designed for the voyage, which I could not replace in consequence of the destruction of my merchandise. In my difficulty, I was finally obliged to swap some of my two hundred and twenty negroes for the desired commodity, which enabled me to despatch the Feliz, though I was, of course, obliged to abandon the voyage in her. My mind was greatly exercised for some time in endeavors to discover the origin of this conflagration. The blaze was first observed at the top of one of the gable ends, which satisfied Ali-Ninpha as well as myself that it was the work of a malicious incendiary. We adopted a variety of methods to trace or trap the scoundrel, but our efforts were fruitless, until a strange negro exhibited one of my double-barrelled guns for sale at a neighboring village, whose chief happened to recognize it. When the seller was questioned about his possession of the weapon, he alleged that it was purchased from inland negroes in a distant town. His replies were so unsatisfactory to the inquisitive chief, that he arrested the suspected felon and sent him to Kambia. I had but little remorse in adopting any means in my power to extort a confession from the negro, who very soon admitted that my gun was stolen by a runner from the wizard of Matacan, who was still hanging about the outskirts of our settlement. I offered a liberal reward and handsome bribes to get possession of the necromancer himself, but such was the superstitious awe surrounding his haunt, that no one dared venture to seize him in his sanctuary, or seduce him within reach of my revenge. This, however, was not the case in regard to his emissary. I was soon in possession of the actual thief, and had little difficulty in securing his execution on the ruins he had made. Before we launched him into eternity, I obtained his confession after an obstinate resistance, and found with considerable pain that a brother of Ormond, the suicide, was a principal mover in the affair. The last words of the Mongo had been reported to this fellow as an injunction of revenge against me, and he very soon learned from personal experience that Kambia was a serious rival, if not antagonist, to Bangalang. His African simplicity made him believe that the "red cock" on my roof-tree would expel me from the river. I was not in a position to pay him back at the moment, yet I made a vow to give the new Mongo a free passage in irons to Cuba before many moons. But this, like other rash promises, I never kept. Sad as was the wreck of my property, the conflagration was fraught with a misfortune that affected my heart far more deeply than the loss of merchandise. Ever since the day of my landing at Ormond's factory, a gentle form had flitted like a fairy among my fortunes, and always as the minister of kindness and hope. Skilled in the ways of her double blood, she was my discreet counsellor in many a peril; and, tender as a well-bred dame of civilized lands, she was ever disposed to promote my happiness by disinterested offices. But, when we came to number the survivors of the ruin, ESTHER was nowhere to be found, nor could I ever trace, among the scattered fragments, the slightest relic of the Pariah's form! * * * * * Of course, I had very little beside my domestics to leave in charge of any one at Kambia, and intrusting them to the care of Ali-Ninpha, I went in my launch to Sierra Leone, where I purchased a schooner that had been condemned by the Mixed Commission. In 1829, vessels were publicly sold, and, with very little trouble, equipped for the coast of Africa. The captures in that region were somewhat like playing a hand,--taking the tricks, reshuffling the same cards, and dealing again to take more tricks! Accordingly, I fitted the schooner to receive a cargo of negroes immediately on quitting port. My crew was made up of men from all nations, captured in prizes; but I guardedly selected my officers from Spaniards exclusively. We were slowly wafting along the sea, a day or two out of the British colony, when the mate fell into chat with a clever lad, who was hanging lazily over the helm. They spoke of voyages and mishaps, and this led the sailor to declare his recent escape from a vessel, then in the Rio Nunez, whose mate had poisoned the commander to get possession of the craft. She had been fitted, he said, at St. Thomas with the feigned design of coasting; but, when she sailed for Africa, her register was sent back to the island in a boat to serve some other vessel, while she ventured to the continent _without_ papers. I have cause to believe that the slave-trade was rarely conducted upon the honorable principles between man and man, which, of course, are the only security betwixt owners, commanders and consignees whose commerce is exclusively contraband. There were men, it is true, engaged in it, with whom the "point of honor" was more omnipotent than the dread of law in regular trade. But innumerable cases have occurred in which the spendthrifts who appropriated their owners' property on the coast of Africa, availed themselves of such superior force as they happened to control, in order to escape detection, or assure a favorable reception in the West Indies. In fact, the slaver sometimes ripened into something very like a pirate! In 1828 and 1829, severe engagements took place between Spanish slavers and this class of contrabandists. Spaniards would assail Portuguese when the occasion was tempting and propitious. Many a vessel has been fitted in Cuba for these adventures, and returned to port with a living cargo, purchased by cannon-balls and boarding-pikes exclusively. Now, I confess that my notions had become at this epoch somewhat relaxed by my traffic on the coast, so that I grew to be no better than folks of my cloth. I was fond of excitement; my craft was sadly in want of a cargo; and, as the mate narrated the helmsman's story, the Quixotic idea naturally got control of my brain that I was destined to become the _avenger_ of the poisoned captain. I will not say that I was altogether stimulated by the noble spirit of justice; for it is quite possible I would never have thought of the dead man had not the sailor apprised us that his vessel was half full of negroes! As we drifted slowly by the mouth of my old river, I slipped over the bar, and, while I fitted the schooner with a splendid nine-pounder amidships, I despatched a spy to the Rio Nunez to report the facts about the poisoning, as well as the armament of the unregistered slaver. In ten days the runner verified the tale. She was still in the stream, with one hundred and eighty-five human beings in her hold, but would soon be off with an entire cargo of two hundred and twenty-five. The time was extraordinarily propitious. Every thing favored my enterprise. The number of slaves would exactly fit my schooner. Such a windfall could not be neglected; and, on the fourth day, I was entering the Rio Nunez under the Portuguese flag, which I unfurled by virtue of a pass from Sierra Leone to the Cape de Verd Islands. I cannot tell whether my spy had been faithless, but when I reached Furcaria, I perceived that my game had taken wing from her anchorage. Here was a sad disappointment. The schooner drew too much water to allow a further ascent, and, moreover, I was unacquainted with the river. As it was important that I should keep aloof from strangers, I anchored in a quiet spot, and seizing the first canoe that passed, learned, for a small reward, that the object of my search was hidden in a bend of the river at the king's town of Kakundy, which I could not reach without the pilotage of a certain mulatto, who was alone fit for the enterprise. I knew this half-breed as soon as his person was described, but I had little hope of securing his services, either by fair means or promised recompense. He owed me five slaves for dealings that took place between us at Kambia, and had always refused so strenuously to pay, that I felt sure he would be off to the woods as soon as he knew my presence on the river. Accordingly, I kept my canoemen on the schooner by an abundant supply of "bitters," and at midnight landed half a dozen, who proceeded to the mulatto's cabin, where he was seized _sans ceremonie_. The terror of this ruffian was indescribable when he found himself in my presence,--a captive, as he supposed, for the debt of flesh. But I soon relieved him, and offered a liberal reward for his prompt, secret and safe pilotage, to Kakundy. The mulatto was willing, but the stream was too shallow for my keel. He argued the point so convincingly, that in half an hour, I relinquished the attempt, and resolved to make "Mahomet come to the mountain." The two boats were quickly manned, armed, and supplied with lanterns; and, with muffled oars, guided by our pilot,--whose skull was kept constantly under the lee of my pistols--we fell like vampyres on our prey in the darkness. With a wild hurrah and a blaze of our pistols in the air, we leaped on board, driving every soul under hatches without striking a blow! Sentries were placed at the cabin door, forecastle and hatchway. The cable was slipped, my launch took her in tow, the pilot and myself took charge of the helm, and, before daylight, the prize was alongside my schooner, transhipping one hundred and ninety-seven of her slaves, with their necessary supplies. Great was the surprise of the captured crew when they saw their fate; and great was the agony of the poisoner, when he returned next morning to the vacant anchorage, after a night of debauch with the king of Kakundy. First of all, he imagined we were regular cruisers, and that the captain's death was about to be avenged. But when it was discovered that they had fallen into the grasp of _friendly slavers_, five of his seamen abandoned their craft and shipped with me. We had capital stomachs for breakfast after the night's romance. Hardly was it swallowed, however, when three canoes came blustering down the stream, filled with negroes and headed by his majesty. I did not wait for a salutation, but, giving the warriors a dose of bellicose grape, tripped my anchor, sheeted home my sails, and was off like an albatross! The feat was cleverly achieved; but, since then, I have very often been taxed by my conscience with doubts as to its strict morality! The African slave-trade produces singular notions of _meum and tuum_ in the minds and hearts of those who dwell for any length of time on that blighting coast; and it is not unlikely that I was quite as prone to the infection as better men, who perished under the malady, while I escaped! CHAPTER XXXV. It was a sweltering July, and the "rainy season" proved its tremendous power by almost incessant deluges. In the breathless calms that held me spell-bound on the coast, the rain came down in such torrents that I often thought the solid water would bury and submerge our schooner. Now and then, a south-wester and the current would fan and drift us along; yet the tenth day found us rolling from side to side in the longitude of the Cape de Verds. Day broke with one of its customary squalls and showers. As the cloud lifted, my look-out from the cross-trees announced a sail under our lee. It was invisible from deck, in the folds of the retreatingmain, but, in the dead calm that followed, the distant whistle of a boatswain was distinctly audible. Before I could deliberate all my doubts were solved by a shot in our mainsail, and the crack of a cannon. There could be no question that the unwelcome visitor was a man-of-war. It was fortunate that the breeze sprang up after the lull, and enabled us to carry every thing that could be crowded on our spars. We dashed away before the freshening wind, like a deer with the unleashed hounds pursuing. The slaves were shifted from side to side--forward or aft--to aid our sailing. Head-stays were slackened, wedges knocked off the masts, and every incumbrance cast from the decks into the sea. Now and then, a fruitless shot from his bow-chasers, reminded the fugitive that the foe was still on his scent. At last, the cruiser got the range of his guns so perfectly, that a well-aimed ball ripped away our rail and tore a dangerous splinter from the foremast, three feet from deck. It was now perilous to carry a press of sail on the same tack with the weakened spar, whereupon I put the schooner about, and, to my delight, found we ranged ahead a knot faster on this course than the former. The enemy "went about" as quickly as we did, but her balls soon fell short of us, and, before noon, we had crawled so nimbly to windward, that her top-gallants alone were visible above the horizon. * * * * * Our voyage was uncheckered by any occurrence worthy of recollection, save the accidental loss of the mate in a dark and stormy night, until we approached the Antilles. Here, where every thing on a slaver assumes the guise of pleasure and relief, I remarked not only the sullenness of my crew, but a disposition to disobey or neglect. The second mate,--shipped in the Rio Nunez, and who replaced my lost officer,--was noticed occasionally in close intercourse with the watch, while his deportment indicated dissatisfaction, if not mutiny. A slaver's life on shore, as well as at sea, makes him wary when another would not be circumspect, or even apprehensive. The sight of land is commonly the signal for merriment, for a well-behaved cargo is invariably released from shackles, and allowed free intercourse between the sexes during daytime on deck. Water tanks are thrown open for unrestricted use. "The cat" is cast into the sea. Strict discipline is relaxed. The day of danger or revolt is considered over, and the captain enjoys a new and refreshing life till the hour of landing. Sailors, with proverbial generosity, share their biscuits and clothing with the blacks. The women, who are generally without garments, appear in costume from the wardrobes of tars, petty officers, mates, and even captains. Sheets, table-cloths, and spare sails, are torn to pieces for raiment, while shoes, boots, caps, oilcloths, and monkey-jackets, contribute to the gay masquerade of the "emigrants." It was my sincere hope that the first glimpse of the Antilles would have converted my schooner into a theatre for such a display; but the moodiness of my companions was so manifest, that I thought it best to meet rebellion half way, by breaking the suspected officer, and sending him forward, at the same time that I threw his "dog-house" overboard.[4] I was now without a reliable officer, and was obliged to call two of the youngest sailors to my assistance in navigating the schooner. I knew the cook and steward--both of whom messed aft--to be trustworthy; so that, with four men at my back, and the blacks below, I felt competent to control my vessel. From that moment, I suffered no one to approach the quarter-deck nearer than the mainmast. It was a sweet afternoon when we were floating along the shores of Porto Rico, tracking our course upon the chart. Suddenly, one of my new assistants approached, with the sociability common among Spaniards, and, in a quiet tone, asked whether I would take a _cigarillo_. As I never smoked, I rejected the offer with thanks, when the youth immediately dropped the twisted paper on my map. In an instant, I perceived the _ruse_, and discovered that the _cigarillo_ was, in fact, a _billet_ rolled to resemble one. I put it in my mouth, and walked aft until I could throw myself on the deck, with my head over the stern, so as to open the paper unseen. It disclosed the organization of a mutiny, under the lead of the broken mate. Our arrival in sight of St. Domingo was to be the signal of its rupture, and for my immediate landing on the island. Six of the crew were implicated with the villain, and the boatswain, who was ill in the slave-hospital, was to share my fate. My resolution was promptly made. In a few minutes, I had cast a hasty glance into the arm-chest, and seen that our weapons were in order. Then, mustering ten of the stoutest and cleverest of my negroes on the quarter-deck, I took the liberty to invent a little strategic fib, and told them, in the Soosoo dialect, that there were bad men on board, who wanted to run the schooner ashore among rocks and drown the slaves while below. At the same time, I gave each a cutlass from the arm-chest, and supplying my trusty whites with a couple of pistols and a knife apiece, without saying a word, I seized the ringleader and his colleagues! Irons and double-irons secured the party to the mainmast or deck, while a drum-head court-martial, composed of the officers, and presided over by myself, arraigned and tried the scoundrels in much less time than regular boards ordinarily spend in such investigations. During the inquiry, we ascertained beyond doubt that the death of the mate was due to false play. He had been wilfully murdered, as a preliminary to the assault on me, for his colossal stature and powerful muscles would have made him a dangerous adversary in the seizure of the craft. There was, perhaps, a touch of the old-fashioned Inquisition in the mode of our judicial researches concerning this projected mutiny. We proceeded very much by way of "confession," and, whenever the culprit manifested reluctance or hesitation, his memory was stimulated by a "cat." Accordingly, at the end of the trial, the mutineers were already pretty well punished; so that we sentenced the six accomplices to receive an additional flagellation, and continue ironed till we reached Cuba. But the fate of the ringleader was not decided so easily. Some were in favor of dropping him overboard, as he had done with the mate; others proposed to set him adrift on a raft, ballasted with chains; but I considered both these punishments too cruel, notwithstanding his treachery, and kept his head beneath the pistol of a sentry till I landed him in shackles on Turtle Island, with three days food and abundance of water. FOOTNOTE: [4] The forecastle and cabin of a slaver are given up to the living freight, while officers sleep on deck in kennels, technically known as "dog-houses." CHAPTER XXXVI. After all these adventures, I was very near losing the schooner before I got to land, by one of the perils of the sea, for which I blame myself that I was not better prepared. It was the afternoon of a fine day. For some time, I had noticed on the horizon a low bank of white cloud, which rapidly spread itself over the sky and water, surrounding us with an impenetrable fog. I apprehended danger; yet, before I could make the schooner snug to meet the squall, a blast--as sudden and loud as a thunderbolt--prostrated her nearly on her beam. The shock was so violent and unforeseen, that the unrestrained slaves, who were enjoying the fine weather on deck, rolled to leeward till they floundered in the sea that inundated the scuppers. There was no power in the tiller to "keep her away" before the blast, for the rudder was almost out of water; but, fortunately, our mainsail burst in shreds from the bolt-ropes, and, relieving us from its pressure, allowed the schooner to right under control of the helm. The West Indian squall abandoned us as rapidly as it assailed, and I was happy to find that our entire loss did not exceed two slave-children, who had been carelessly suffered to sit on the rail. * * * * * The reader knows that my voyage was an _impromptu_ speculation, without papers, manifest, register, consignees, or destination. It became necessary, therefore, that I should exercise a very unusual degree of circumspection, not only in landing my human cargo, but in selecting a spot from which I might communicate with proper persons. I had never been in Cuba, save on the occasion already described, nor were my business transactions extended beyond the Regla association, by which I was originally sent to Africa. The day after the "white squall" I found our schooner drifting with a leading breeze along the southern coast of Cuba, and as the time seemed favorable, I thought I might as well cut the Gordian knot of dilemma by landing my cargo in a secluded cove that indented the beach about nine miles east of Sant' Iago. If I had been consigned to the spot, I could not have been more fortunate in my reception. Some sixty yards from the landing I found the comfortable home of a _ranchero_ who proffered the hospitality usual in such cases, and devoted a spacious barn to the reception of my slaves while his family prepared an abundant meal. As soon as the cargo was safe from the grasp of cruisers, I resolved to disregard the flagless and paperless craft that bore it safely from Africa, and being unacquainted in Sant' Iago, to cross the island towards the capital, in search of a consignee. Accordingly I mounted a spirited little horse, and with a _montero_ guide, turned my face once more towards the "ever faithful city of Havana." My companion had a thousand questions for "the captain," all of which I answered with so much _bonhommie_, that we soon became the best friends imaginable, and chatted over all the scandal of Cuba. I learned from this man that a cargo had recently been "run" in the neighborhood of Matanzas, and that its disposal was most successfully managed by a Señor * * *, from Catalonia. I slapped my thigh and shouted _eureka_! It flashed through my mind to trust this man without further inquiry, and I confess that my decision was based exclusively upon his _sectional_ nationality. I am partial to the Catalans. Accordingly, I presented myself at the counting-room of my future consignee in due time, and "made a clean breast" of the whole transaction, disclosing the destitute state of my vessel. In a very short period, his Excellency the Captain-General was made aware of my arrival and furnished a list of "the Africans,"--by which name the Bosal slaves are commonly known in Cuba. Nor was the captain of the port neglected. A convenient blank page of his register was inscribed with the name of my vessel as having sailed from the port six months before, and this was backed by a register and muster-roll, in order to secure my unquestionable entry into a harbor. Before nightfall every thing was in order with Spanish despatch when stimulated either by doubloons or the smell of African blood;--and twenty-four hours afterwards, I was again at the landing with a suit of clothes and blanket for each of my "domestics." The schooner was immediately put in charge of a clever pilot, who undertook the formal duty and _name_ of her commander, in order to elude the vigilance of all the minor officials whose conscience had not been lulled by the golden anodyne. In the meanwhile every attention had been given to the slaves by my hospitable _ranchero_. The "head-money" once paid, no body,--civil, military, foreign, or Spanish--dared interfere with them. Forty-eight hours of rest, ablution, exercise and feeding, served to recruit the gang and steady their gait. Nor had the sailors in charge of the party omitted the performance of their duty as "_valets_" to the gentlemen and "_ladies' maids_" to the females; so that when the march towards Sant' Iago began, the procession might have been considered as "respectable as it was numerous." The brokers of the southern emporium made very little delay in finding purchasers at retail for the entire venture. The returns were, of course, in cash; and so well did the enterprise turn out, that I forgot the rebellion of our mutineers, and allowed them to share my bounty with the rest of the crew. In fact, so pleased was I with the result on inspecting the balance-sheet, that I resolved to divert myself with the _dolce far niente_ of Cuban country life for a month at least. But while I was making ready for this delightful repose, a slight breeze passed over the calmness of my mirror. I had given, perhaps imprudently, but certainly with generous motives, a double pay to my men in recompense of their perilous service on the Rio Nunez. With the usual recklessness of their craft, they lounged about Havana, boasting of their success, while a Frenchman of the party,--who had been swindled of his wages at cards,--appealed to his Consul for relief. By dint of cross questions the Gallic official extracted the tale of our voyage from his countryman, and took advantage of the fellow's destitution to make him a witness against a certain Don Téodore Canot, who _was alleged to be a native of France_! Besides this, the punishment of my mate was exaggerated by the recreant Frenchman into a most unjustifiable as well as cruel act. Of course the story was promptly detailed to the Captain-General, who issued an order for my arrest. But I was too wary and flush to be caught so easily by the guardian of France's lilies. No person bearing my name could be found in the island; and as the schooner had entered port with Spanish papers, Spanish crew, and was regularly sold, it became manifest to the stupefied Consul that the sailor's "yarn" was an entire fabrication. That night a convenient press-gang, in want of recruits for the royal marine, seized the braggadocio crew, and as there were no witnesses to corroborate the Consul's complaint, it was forthwith dismissed. Things are managed very cleverly in Havana--_when you know how_! CHAPTER XXXVII. Before I went to sea again, I took a long holiday with full pockets, among my old friends at Regla and Havana. I thought it possible that a residence in Cuba for a season, aloof from traders and their transactions, might wean me from Africa; but three months had hardly elapsed, before I found myself sailing out of the harbor of St. Jago de Cuba to take, in Jamaica, a cargo of merchandise for the coast, and then to return and refit for slaves in Cuba. My voyage began with a gale, which for three days swept us along on a tolerably good course, but on the night of the third, after snapping my mainmast on a lee shore, I was forced to beach the schooner in order to save our lives and cargo from destruction. Fortunately, we effected our landing with complete success, and at dawn I found my gallant little craft a total wreck on an uninhabited key. A large tent or pavilion was quickly built from our sails, sweeps, and remaining spars, beneath which every thing valuable and undamaged was stored before nightfall. Parties were sent forth to reconnoitre, while our remaining foremast was unshipped, and planted on the highest part of the sandbank with a signal of distress. The scouts returned without consolation. Nothing had been seen except a large dog, whose neck was encircled with a collar; but as he could not be made to approach by kindness, I forbade his execution. Neither smoke nor tobacco freed us of the cloudy swarms of mosquitoes that filled the air after sunset, and so violent was the irritation of their innumerable stings, that a delicate boy among the crew became utterly insane, and was not restored till long after his return to Cuba. Several sad and weary days passed over us on this desolate key, where our mode of life brought to my recollection many a similar hour spent by me in company with Don Rafael and his companions. Vessel after vessel passed the reef, but none took notice of our signal. At last, on the tenth day of our imprisonment, a couple of small schooners fanned their way in a nonchalant manner towards our island, and knowing that we were quite at their mercy, refused our rescue unless we assented to the most extravagant terms of compensation. After a good deal of chaffering, it was agreed that the salvors should land us and our effects at Nassau, New Providence, where the average should be determined by the lawful tribunal. The voyage was soon accomplished, and our amiable liberators from the mosquitoes of our island prison obtained a judicial award of seventy per cent. for their extraordinary trouble! The wreck and the wreckers made so formidable an inroad upon my finances, that I was very happy when I reached Cuba once more, to accept the berth of sailing-master in a slave brig which was fitting out at St. Thomas's, under an experienced Frenchman. My new craft, the SAN PABLO, was a trim Brazil-built brig, of rather more than 300 tons. Her hold contained sixteen twenty-four carronades, while her magazine was stocked with abundance of ammunition, and her kelson lined, fore and aft, with round shot and grape. Captain * * *, who had been described as a Tartar and martinet, received me with much affability, and seemed charmed when I told him that I conversed fluently not only in French but in English. I had hardly arrived and begun to take the dimensions of my new equipage, when a report ran through the harbor that a Danish cruiser was about to touch at the island. Of course, every thing was instantly afloat, and in a bustle to be off. Stores and provisions were tumbled in pell-mell, tanks were filled with water during the night; and, before dawn, fifty-five ragamuffins of all castes, colors, and countries, were shipped as crew. By "six bells," with a coasting flag at our peak, we were two miles at sea with our main-topsail aback, receiving six kegs of specie and several chests of clothing from a lugger. When we were fairly on "blue water" I discovered that our voyage, though a slaver's, was not of an ordinary character. On the second day, the mariners were provided with two setts of uniform, to be worn on Sundays or when called to quarters. Gold-laced caps, blue coats with anchor buttons, single epaulettes, and side arms were distributed to the officers, while a brief address from the captain on the quarter-deck, apprised all hands that if the enterprise resulted well, _a bounty_ of one hundred dollars would be paid to each adventurer. That night our skipper took me into council and developed his plan, which was to load in a port in the Mozambique channel. To effect his purpose with more security, he had provided the brig with an armament sufficient to repel a man-of-war of equal size--(a fancy I never gave way to)--and on all occasions, except in presence of a French cruiser, he intended to hoist the Bourbon lilies, wear the Bourbon uniform, and conduct the vessel in every way as if she belonged to the royal navy. Nor were the officers to be less favored than the sailors in regard to double salary, certificates of which were handed to me for myself and my two subordinates. A memorandum book was then supplied, containing minute instructions for each day of the ensuing week, and I was specially charged, as second in command, to be cautiously punctual in all my duties, and severely just towards my inferiors. I took some pride in acquitting myself creditably in this new military phase of a slaver's life. Very few days sufficed to put the rigging and sails in perfect condition; to mount my sixteen guns; to drill the men with small arms as well as artillery; and by paint and sea-craft, to disguise the Saint Paul as a very respectable cruiser. In twenty-seven days we touched at the Cape de Verds for provisions, and shaped our way southward without speaking a single vessel of the multitude we met, until off the Cape of Good Hope we encountered a stranger who was evidently bent upon being sociable. Nevertheless, our inhospitable spirit forced us to hold our course unswervingly, till from peak and main we saw the white flag and pennant of France unfurled to the wind. Our drum immediately beat to quarters, while the flag chest was brought on deck. Presently, the French _transport_ demanded our private signal; which out of our ample supply, was promptly answered, and the royal ensign of Portugal set at our peak. As we approached the Frenchman every thing was made ready for all hazards;--our guns were double-shotted, our matches lighted, our small arms distributed. The moment we came within hail, our captain,--who claimed precedence of the lieutenant of a transport,--spoke the Frenchman; and, for a while, carried on quite an amiable chat in Portuguese. At last the stranger requested leave to send his boat aboard with letters for the Isle of France; to which we consented with the greatest pleasure, though our captain thought it fair to inform him that we dared not prudently invite his officers on deck, inasmuch as there were "several cases of small-pox among our crew, contracted, in all likelihood, at Angola!" The discharge of an unexpected broadside could not have struck our visitor with more dismay or horror. The words were hardly spoken when her decks were in a bustle,--her yards braced sharply to the wind,--and her prow boiling through the sea, without so much as the compliment of a "_bon voyage_!" Ten days after this _ruse d'esclave_ we anchored at Quillimane, among a lot of Portuguese and Brazilian slavers, whose sails were either clewed up or unbent as if for a long delay. We fired a salute of twenty guns and ran up the French flag. The salvo was quickly answered, while our captain, in the full uniform of a naval commander, paid his respects to the Governor. Meantime orders were given me to remain carefully in charge of the ship; to avoid all intercourse with others; to go through the complete routine and show of a man-of-war; to strike the yards, haul down signal, and fire a gun at sunset; but especially to get underway and meet the captain at a small beach off the port, the instant I saw a certain flag flying from the fort. I have rarely seen matters conducted more skilfully than they were by this daring Gaul. Next morning early the Governor's boat was sent for the specie; the fourth day disclosed the signal that called us to the beach; the fifth, sixth, and seventh, supplied us with _eight hundred negroes_; and, on the ninth, we were underway for our destination. The success of this enterprise was more remarkable because fourteen vessels, waiting cargoes, were at anchor when we arrived, some of which had been detained in port over fifteen months. To such a pitch had their impatience risen, that the masters made common cause against all new-comers, and agreed that each vessel should take its turn for supply according to date of arrival. But the astuteness of my veteran circumvented all these plans. His anchorage and non-intercourse as _a French man-of-war_ lulled every suspicion or intrigue against him, and he adroitly took advantage of his kegs of specie to win the heart of the authorities and factors who supplied the slaves. But wit and cleverness are not all in this world. Our captain returned in high spirits to his vessel; but we hardly reached the open sea before he was prostrated with an ague which refused to yield to ordinary remedies, and finally ripened into fever, that deprived him of reason. Other dangers thickened around us. We had been several days off the Cape of Good Hope, buffeting a series of adverse gales, when word was brought me after a night of weary watching, that several slaves were ill of small-pox. Of all calamities that occur in the voyage of a slaver, this is the most dreaded and unmanageable. The news appalled me. Impetuous with anxiety I rushed to the captain, and regardless of fever or insanity, disclosed the dreadful fact. He stared at me for a minute as if in doubt; then opening his bureau and pointing to a long coil of combustible material, said that it communicated through the decks with the powder magazine, and ordered me to--"_blow up the brig!_" The master's madness sobered his mate. I lost no time in securing both the dangerous implement and its perilous owner, while I called the officers into the cabin for inquiry and consultation as to our desperate state. The gale had lasted nine days without intermission, and during all this time with so much violence that it was impossible to take off the gratings, release the slaves, purify the decks, or rig the wind-sails. When the first lull occurred, a thorough inspection of the eight hundred was made, and _a death announced_. As life had departed during the tempest, a careful inspection of the body was made, and it was this that first disclosed the pestilence in our midst. The corpse was silently thrown into the sea, and the malady kept secret from crew and negroes. When breakfast was over on that fatal morning, I determined to visit the slave deck myself, and ordering an abundant supply of lanterns, descended to the cavern, which still reeked horribly with human vapor, even after ventilation. But here, alas! I found nine of the negroes infected by the disease. We took counsel as to the use of laudanum in ridding ourselves speedily of the sufferers,--a remedy that is seldom and secretly used in _desperate_ cases to preserve the living from contagion. But it was quickly resolved that it had already gone too far, when nine were prostrated, to save the rest by depriving them of life. Accordingly, these wretched beings were at once sent to the forecastle as a hospital, and given in charge to the vaccinated or innoculated as nurses. The hold was then ventilated and limed; yet before the gale abated, our sick list was increased to thirty. The hospital could hold no more. Twelve of the sailors took the infection, and fifteen corpses had been cast in the sea! All reserve was now at an end. Body after body fed the deep, and still the gale held on. At last, when the wind and waves had lulled so much as to allow the gratings to be removed from our hatches, our consternation knew no bounds when we found that nearly all the slaves were dead or dying with the distemper. I will not dwell on the scene or our sensations. It is a picture that must gape with all its horrors before the least vivid imagination. Yet there was no time for languor or sentimental sorrow. Twelve of the stoutest survivors were ordered to drag out the dead from among the ill, and though they were constantly drenched with rum to brutalize them, still we were forced to aid the gang by reckless volunteers from our crew, who, arming their hands with tarred mittens, flung the foetid masses of putrefaction into the sea! One day was a counterpart of another; and yet the love of life, or, perhaps, the love of gold, made us fight the monster with a courage that became a better cause. At length death was satisfied, but not until the eight hundred beings we had shipped in high health had dwindled to four hundred and ninety-seven skeletons! CHAPTER XXXVIII. The San Pablo might have been considered entitled to a "clean bill of health" by the time she reached the equator. The dead left space, food, and water for the living, and very little restraint was imposed on the squalid remnant. None were shackled after the outbreak of the fatal plague, so that in a short time the survivors began to fatten for the market to which they were hastening. But such was not the fate of our captain. The fever and delirium had long left him, yet a dysenteric tendency,--the result of a former malady,--suddenly supervened, and the worthy gentleman rapidly declined. His nerves gave way so thoroughly, that from fanciful weakness he lapsed into helpless hypochondria. One of his pet ideas was that a copious dose of calomel would ensure his restoration to perfect health. Unfortunately, however, during the prevalence of the plague, our medicine chest had one day been accidentally left exposed, and our mercury was abstracted. Still there was no use to attempt calming him with the assurance that his _nostrum_ could not be had. The more we argued the impossibility of supplying him, the more was he urgent and imperative for the sanative mineral. In this dilemma I ordered a bright look-out to be kept for merchantmen from whom I hoped to obtain the desirable drug. At last a sail was reported two points under our lee, and as her canvas was both patched and dark, I considered her a harmless Briton who might be approached with impunity. It proved to be a brig from Belfast, in Ireland; but when I overhauled the skipper and desired him to send a boat on board, he declined the invitation and kept his course. A second and third command shared the same fate. I was somewhat nettled by this disregard of my flag, pennant, and starboard epaulette, and ordering the brig to be run alongside, I made her fast to the recusant, and boarded with ten men. Our reception was, of course, not very amicable, though no show of resistance was made by officers or crew. I informed the captain that my object in stopping him was entirely one of mercy, and repeated the request I had previously made through the speaking trumpet. Still, the stubborn Scotchman persisted in denying the medicine, though I offered him payment in silver or gold. Thereupon, I commanded the mate to produce his log-book, and, under my dictation, to note the visit of the San Pablo, my request, and its churlish denial. This being done to my satisfaction, I ordered two of my hands to search for the medicine chest, which turned out to be a sorry receptacle of stale drugs, though fortunately containing an abundance of calomel. I did not parley about appropriating a third of the mineral, for which I counted five silver dollars on the cabin table. But the metal was no sooner exhibited than my Scotchman refused it with disdain. I handed it, however, to the mate, and exacted a receipt, which was noted in the log-book. As I put my leg over the taffrail, I tried once more to smooth the bristles of the terrier, but a snarl and a snap repaid me for my good humor. Nevertheless, I resolved "to heap coals of fire on the head" of the ingrate; and, before I cast off our lashings, threw on his deck a dozen yams, a bag of frijoles, a barrel of pork, a couple of sacks of white Spanish biscuits,--and, with a cheer, bade him adieu. But there was no balm in calomel for the captain. Scotch physic could not save him. He declined day by day; yet the energy of his hard nature kept him alive when other men would have sunk, and enabled him to command even from his sick bed. It was always our Sabbath service to drum the men to quarters and exercise them with cannons and small arms. One Sunday, after the routine was over, the dying man desired to inspect his crew, and was carried to the quarter-deck on a mattress. Each sailor marched in front of him and was allowed to take his hand; after which he called them around in a body, and announced his apprehension that death would claim him before our destination was reached. Then, without previously apprising us of his design, he proceeded to make a verbal testament, and enjoined it upon all as a duty to his memory to obey implicitly. If the San Pablo arrived safely in port, he desired that every officer and mariner should be paid the promised bounty, and that the proceeds of cargo should be sent to his family in Nantz. But, if it happened that we were attacked by a cruiser, and the brig was saved by the risk and valor of a defence,--then, he directed that one half the voyage's avails should be shared between officers and crew, while one quarter was sent to his friends in France, and the other given to me. His sailing-master and Cuban consignees were to be the executors of this salt water document. We were now well advanced north-westwardly on our voyage, and in every cloud could see a promise of the continuing trade-wind, which was shortly to end a luckless voyage. From deck to royal,--from flying-jib to ring-tail, every stitch of canvas that would draw was packed and crowded on the brig. Vessels were daily seen in numbers, but none appeared suspicious till we got far to the westward, when my glass detected a cruising schooner, jogging along under easy sail. I ordered the helmsman to keep his course; and taughtening sheets, braces, and halyards, went into the cabin to receive the final orders of our commander. He received my story with his usual bravery, nor was he startled when a boom from the cruiser's gun announced her in chase. He pointed to one of his drawers and told me to take out its contents. I handed him three flags, which he carefully unrolled, and displayed the ensigns of Spain, Denmark, and Portugal, in each of which I found a set of papers suitable for the San Pablo. In a feeble voice he desired me to select a nationality; and, when I chose the Spanish, he grasped my hand, pointed to the door, and bade me not to surrender. When I reached the deck, I found our pursuer gaining on us with the utmost speed. She outsailed us--two to one. Escape was altogether out of the question; yet I resolved to show the inquisitive stranger our mettle, by keeping my course, firing a gun, and hoisting my Spanish signals at peak and main. At this time the San Pablo was spinning along finely at the rate of about six knots an hour, when a shot from the schooner fell close to our stern. In a moment I ordered in studding-sails alow and aloft, and as my men had been trained to their duty in man-of-war fashion, I hoped to impose on the cruiser by the style and perfection of the manoeuvre. Still, however, she kept her way, and, in four hours after discovery, was within half gun-shot of the brig. Hitherto I had not touched my armament, but I selected this moment to load under the enemy's eyes, and, at the word of command, to fling open the ports and run out my barkers. The act was performed to a charm by my well-drilled gunners; yet all our belligerent display had not the least effect on the schooner, which still pursued us. At last, within hail, her commander leaped on a gun, and ordered me to "heave to, or take a ball!" Now, I was prepared for this arrogant command, and, for half an hour, had made up my mind how to avoid an engagement. A single discharge of my broadside might have sunk or seriously damaged our antagonist, but the consequences would have been terrible if he boarded me, which I believed to be his aim. Accordingly, I paid no attention to the threat, but taughtened my ropes and surged ahead. Presently, my racing chaser came up _under my lee_ within pistol-shot, when a reiterated command to heave to or be fired on, was answered for the first time by a faint "_no intiendo_,"--"I don't understand you,"--while the man-of-war shot ahead of me. _Then I had him!_ Quick as thought, I gave the order to "square away," and putting the helm up, struck the cruiser near the bow, carrying away her foremast and bowsprit. Such was the stranger's surprise at my daring trick that not a musket was fired or boarder stirred, till we were clear of the wreck. It was then too late. The loss of my jib-boom and a few rope-yarns did not prevent me from cracking on my studding-sails, and leaving the lubber to digest his stupid _forbearance_! This adventure was a fitting epitaph for the stormy life of our poor commander, who died on the following night, and was buried under a choice selection of the flags he had honored with his various nationalities. A few days after the blue water had closed over him for ever, our cargo was safely ensconced in the _hacienda_ nine miles east of St. Jago de Cuba, while the San Pablo was sent adrift and burnt to the water's edge. CHAPTER XXXIX. The beneficent disposition of my late commander, though not a regular testament, was carried out in Cuba, and put me in possession of twelve thousand dollars as my share of the enterprise. Yet my restless spirit did not allow me to remain idle. Our successful voyage had secured me scores of friends among the Spanish slavers, and I received daily applications for a fresh command. But the plans of my French friend had so bewitched me with a desire for imitation, that I declined subordinate posts and aspired to ownership. Accordingly, I proposed to the proprietor of a large American clipper-brig, that we should fit her on the same system as the San Pablo; yet, wishing to surpass my late captain in commercial success, I suggested the idea of fighting for our cargo, or, in plainer language, of relieving another slaver of her living freight, a project which promptly found favor with the owner of "LA CONCHITA." The vessel in question originally cost twelve thousand dollars, and I proposed to cover this value by expending an equal sum on her outfit, in order to constitute me half owner. The bargain was struck, and the armament, sails, additional spars, rigging, and provisions went on board, with prudential secrecy. Inasmuch as we could not leave port without some show of a cargo, merchandise _in bond_ was taken from the public warehouses, and, after being loaded in our hold during day, was smuggled ashore again at night. As the manoeuvre was a trick of my accomplice, who privately gained by the operation, I took no notice of what was delivered or taken away. Finally, all was ready. Forty-five men were shipped, and the Conchita cleared. Next day, at daybreak, I was to sail with the land-breeze. A sailor's last night ashore is proverbial, and none of the customary ceremonies were omitted on this occasion. There was a parting supper with plenty of champagne; there was a visit to the _café_; a farewell call here, another there, and a bumper every where. In fact, till two in the morning, I was busy with my adieus; but when I got home at last, with a thumping headache, I was met at the door by a note from my partner, stating that our vessel was seized, and an order issued for my arrest. He counselled me to keep aloof from the _alguaziles_, till he could arrange the matter with the custom-house and police. I will not enlarge this chapter of disasters. Next day, my accomplice was lodged in prison for his fraud, the vessel confiscated, her outfit sold, and my purse cropped to the extent of twelve thousand dollars. I had barely time to escape before the officers were in my lodgings; and I finally saved myself from an acquaintance with the interior of a Cuban prison, by taking another name, and playing _ranchero_ among the hills for several weeks. * * * * * My finances were at low-water mark, when I strolled one fine morning into Matanzas, and, after some delay, again obtained command of a slaver, through the secret influence of my old and trusty friends. The new craft was a dashing schooner, of one hundred and twenty tons, fresh from the United States, and intended for Ayudah on the Gold Coast. It was calculated that we might bring home at least four hundred and fifty slaves, for whose purchase, I was supplied plentifully with rum, powder, English muskets, and rich cottons from Manchester. In due time we sailed for the Cape de Verds, the usual "port of despatch" on such excursions; and at Praya, exchanged our flag for the Portuguese, before we put up our helm for the coast. A British cruiser chased us fruitlessly for two days off Sierra Leone, and enabled me not only to test the sailing qualities, but to get the _sailing trim_ of the "Estrella," in perfection. So confident did I become of the speed and bottom of my gallant clipper, that I ventured, with a leading wind, to chase the first vessel I descried on the horizon, and was altogether deceived by the tri-color displayed at her peak. Indeed, I could not divine this novel nationality, till the speaking trumpet apprised us that the lilies of France had taken triple hues in the hands of Louis Philippe! Accordingly, before I squared away for Ayudah, I saluted the _royal republican_, by lowering my flag thrice to the new divinity. * * * * * I consigned the Estrella to one of the most remarkable traders that ever expanded the African traffic by his genius. Señor Da Souza,--better known on the coast and interior as Cha-cha,--was said to be a native mulatto of Rio Janeiro, whence he emigrated to Dahomey, after deserting the arms of his imperial master. I do not know how he reached Africa, but it is probable the fugitive made part of some slaver's crew, and fled from his vessel, as he had previously abandoned the military service in the delicious clime of Brazil. His parents were poor, indolent, and careless, so that Cha-cha grew up an illiterate, headstrong youth. Yet, when he touched the soil of Africa, a new life seemed infused into his veins. For a while, his days are said to have been full of misery and trouble, but the Brazilian slave-trade happened to receive an extraordinary impetus about that period; and, gradually, the adventurous refugee managed to profit by his skill in dealing with the natives, or by acting as broker among his countrymen. Beginning in the humblest way, he stuck to trade with the utmost tenacity till he ripened into an opulent factor. The tinge of native blood that dyed his complexion, perhaps qualified him peculiarly for this enterprise. He loved the customs of the people. He spoke their language with the fluency of a native. He won the favor of chief after chief. He strove to be considered a perfect African among Africans; though, among whites, he still affected the graceful address and manners of his country. In this way, little by little, Cha-cha advanced in the regard of all he dealt with, and secured the commissions of Brazil and Cuba, while he was regarded and protected as a prime favorite by the warlike king of Dahomey. Indeed, it is alleged that this noted sovereign formed a sort of devilish compact with the Portuguese factor, and supplied him with every thing he desired during life, in consideration of inheriting his wealth when dead. But Cha-cha was resolved, while the power of enjoyment was still vouchsafed him, that all the pleasures of human life, accessible to money, should not be wanting in Ayudah. He built a large and commodious dwelling for his residence on a beautiful spot, near the site of an abandoned Portuguese fort. He filled his establishment with every luxury and comfort that could please the fancy, or gratify the body. Wines, food, delicacies and raiment, were brought from Paris, London, and Havana. The finest women along the coast were lured to his settlement. Billiard tables and gambling halls spread their wiles, or afforded distraction for detained navigators. In fine, the mongrel Sybarite surrounded himself with all that could corrupt virtue, gratify passion, tempt avarice, betray weakness, satisfy sensuality, and complete a picture of incarnate slavery in Dahomey. When he sallied forth, his walk was always accompanied by considerable ceremony. An officer preceded him to clear the path; a fool or buffoon hopped beside him; a band of native musicians sounded their discordant instruments, and a couple of singers screamed, at the top of their voices, the most fulsome adulation of the mulatto. Numbers of vessels were, of course, required to feed this African nabob with doubloons and merchandise. Sometimes, commanders from Cuba or Brazil would be kept months in his perilous nest, while their craft cruised along the coast, in expectation of human cargoes. At such seasons, no expedient was left untried for the entertainment and pillage of wealthy or trusted idlers. If Cha-cha's board and wines made them drunkards, it was no fault of his. If _rouge et noir_, or _monte_, won their doubloons and freight at his saloon, he regretted, but dared not interfere with the amusements of his guests. If the sirens of his harem betrayed a cargo for their favor over cards, a convenient fire destroyed the frail warehouse after its merchandise was secretly removed! Cha-cha was exceedingly desirous that I should accept his hospitality. As soon as I read my invoice to him,--for he could not do it himself,--he became almost irresistible in his _empressement_. Yet I declined the invitation with firm politeness, and took up my quarters on shore, at the residence of a native _manfuca_, or broker. I was warned of his allurements before I left Matanzas, and resolved to keep myself and property so clear of his clutches, that our contract would either be fulfilled or remain within my control. Thus, by avoiding his table, his "hells," and the society of his dissipated sons, I maintained my business relations with the slaver, and secured his personal respect so effectually, that, at the end of two months, four hundred and eighty prime negroes were in the bowels of La Estrella.[5] FOOTNOTE: [5] Da Souza died in May, 1849. Commander Forbes, R. N., in his book on Dahomey, says that a boy and girl were decapitated and buried with him, and that three men were sacrificed on the beach at Whydah. He alleges that, although this notorious slaver died in May, the funeral honors to his memory were not yet closed in October. "The town," he says, "is still in a ferment. Three hundred of the Amazons are daily in the square, firing and dancing; bands of Fetiche people parade the streets, headed by guinea-fowls, fowls, ducks, goats, pigeons, and pigs, on poles, alive, for sacrifice. Much rum is distributed, and all night there is shouting, firing and dancing."--_Dahomey and the Dahomans_, vol. i, 49. CHAPTER XL. If I had dreamed that these recollections of my African career would ever be made public, it is probable I should have taxed my memory with many events and characteristic anecdotes, of interest to those who study the progress of mankind, and the singular manifestations of human intellect in various portions of Ethiopia. During my travels on that continent, I always found the negro a believer in some superior creative and controlling power, except among the marshes at the mouth of the Rio Pongo, where the Bagers, as I already stated, imagine that death is total annihilation. The Mandingoes and Fullahs have their Islamism and its Koran; the Soosoo has his good spirits and bad; another nation has its "pray-men" and "book-men," with their special creeds; another relies on the omnipotence of _juju_ priests and _fetiche_ worship;[6] some believe in the immortality of spirit; while others confide in the absolute translation of body. The Mahometan tribes adore the Creator, with an infinitude of ablutions, genuflexions, prayers, fasts, and by strictly adhering to the laws of the Prophet; while the heathen nations resort to their adroit priests, who shield them from the devil by charms of various degree, which are exclusively in their gift, and may consequently be imposed on the credulous for enormous prices. At Ayudah I found the natives addicted to a very grovelling species of idolatry. It was their belief that the Good as well as the Evil spirit existed in living Iguanas. In the home of the _manfuca_, with whom I dwelt, several of these animals were constantly fed and cherished as _dii penates_, nor was any one allowed to interfere with their freedom, or to harm them when they grew insufferably offensive. The death of one of these crawling deities is considered a calamity in the household, and grief for the reptile becomes as great as for a departed parent. Whilst I tarried at Ayudah, an invitation came from the King of Dahomey, soliciting the presence of Cha-cha and his guests at the yearly sacrifice of human beings, whose blood is shed not only to appease an irritated god but to satiate the appetite of departed kings. I regret that I did not accompany the party that was present at this dreadful festival. Cha-cha despatched several of the captains who were waiting cargoes, under the charge of his own interpreters and the royal _manfucas_; and from one of these eye-witnesses, whose curiosity was painfully satiated, I received a faithful account of the horrid spectacle. For three days our travellers passed through a populous region, fed with abundant repasts prepared in the native villages by Cha-cha's cooks, and resting at night in hammocks suspended among the trees. On the fourth day the party reached the great capital of Abomey, to which the king had come for the bloody festival from his residence at Cannah. My friends were comfortably lodged for repose, and next morning presented to the sovereign. He was a well-built negro, dressed in the petticoat-trowsers of a Turk, with yellow morocco boots, while a profusion of silk shawls encircled his shoulders and waist, and a lofty _chapeau_, with trailing plumes, surmounted his wool. A vast body-guard of _female_ soldiers or amazons, armed with lances and muskets, surrounded his majesty. Presently, the _manfucas_ and interpreters, crawling abjectly on their hands and knees to the royal feet, deposited Cha-cha's tribute and the white men's offering. The first consisted of several pieces of crape, silks, and taffeta, with a large pitcher and basin of silver; while the latter was a trifling gift of twenty muskets and one hundred pieces of blue _dungeree_. The present was gracefully accepted, and the donors welcomed to the sacrifice, which was delayed on account of the scarcity of victims, though orders had been given to storm a neighboring tribe to make up three hundred slaves for the festival. In the mean while, a spacious house, furnished in European style, and altogether better than the ordinary dwellings of Africa, was assigned to the strangers. Liberty was also given them to enter wherever they pleased, and take what they wished, inasmuch as all his subjects, male and female, were slaves whom he placed at the white men's disposal. The sixth of May was announced as the beginning of the sacrificial rites, which were to last five days. Early in the morning, two hundred females of the amazonian guard, naked to the waist, but richly ornamented with beads and rings at every joint of their oiled and glistening limbs, appeared in the area before the king's palace, armed with blunt cutlasses. Very soon the sovereign made his appearance, when the band of warriors began their manoeuvres, keeping pace, with rude but not unmartial skill, to the native drum and flute. A short distance from the palace, within sight of the square, a fort or inclosure, about nine feet high, had been built of _adobe_, and surrounded by a pile of tall, prickly briers. Within this barrier, secured to stakes, stood fifty captives who were to be immolated at the opening of the festival. When the drill of the amazons and the royal review were over, there was, for a considerable time, perfect silence in the ranks and throughout the vast multitude of spectators. Presently, at a signal from the king, one hundred of the women departed at a run, brandishing their weapons and yelling their war-cry, till, heedless of the thorny barricade, they leaped the walls, lacerating their flesh in crossing the prickly impediment. The delay was short. Fifty of these female demons, with torn limbs and bleeding faces, quickly returned, and offered their howling victims to the king. It was now the duty of this personage to begin the sacrifice with his royal hand. Calling the female whose impetuous daring had led her foremost across the thorns, he took a glittering sword from her grasp, and in an instant the head of the first victim fell to the dust. The weapon was then returned to the woman, who, handing it to the white men, desired them to unite in the brutal deed! The strangers, however, not only refused, but, sick at heart, abandoned the scene of butchery, which lasted, they understood, till noon, when the amazons were dismissed to their barracks, reeking with rum and blood. I have limited the details of this barbarity to the initial cruelties, leaving the reader's imagination to fancy the atrocities that followed the second blow. It has always been noticed that the sight of blood, which appals a civilized man, serves to excite and enrage the savage, till his frantic passions induce him to mutilate his victims, even as a tiger becomes furious after it has torn the first wound in its prey. For five days the strangers were doomed to hear the yells of the storming amazons as they assailed the fort for fresh victims. On the sixth the sacrifice was over:--the divinity was appeased, and quiet reigned again in the streets of Abomey. Our travellers were naturally anxious to quit a court where such abominations were regarded as national and religious duties; but before they departed, his majesty proposed to accord them a parting interview. He received the strangers with ceremonious politeness, and called their attention to the throne or royal seat upon which he had coiled his limbs. The chair is said to have been an heir-loom of at least twenty generations. Each leg of the article rests on the skull of some native king or chief, and such is the fanatical respect for the brutal usages of antiquity, that every three years the people of Dahomey are obliged to renew the steadiness of the stool by the fresh skulls of some noted princes! * * * * * I was not long enough at Ayudah to observe the manners and customs of the natives with much care, still, as well as I now remember, there was great similarity to the habits of other tribes. The male lords it over the weaker sex, and as a man is valued according to the quantity of his wives; polygamy, even among civilized residents, is carried to a greater excess than elsewhere. Female chastity is not insisted on as in the Mandingo and Soosoo districts, but the husband contents himself with the seeming continence of his mistresses. Sixty or seventy miles south of Ayudah, the adulterous wife of a chief is stabbed in the presence of her relations. Here, also, superstition has set up the altar of human sacrifice, but the divinity considers the offering of a single virgin sufficient for all its requirements. Some years after my visit to Ayudah, it happened that my traffic called me to Lagos at the season of this annual festival, so that I became an unwilling witness of the horrid scene. When the slender crescent of the November moon is first observed, an edict goes forth from the king that his _Juju-man_, or high-priest, will go his annual round through the town, and during his progress it is strictly forbidden for any of his subjects to remain out of doors after sunset. Such is the terror with which the priests affect to regard the sacred demon, that even the fires are extinguished in their houses. Towards midnight the _Juju-man_ issued from a sacred _gree-gree_ bush or grove, the entrance to which is inhibited to all negroes who do not belong to the religious brotherhood. The costume of the impostor is calculated to inspire his countrymen with fear. He was clad in a garment that descended from his waist to his heels like a petticoat or skirt, made of long black fur; a cape of the same material was clasped round his neck and covered his elbows; a gigantic hood which bristled with all the ferocity of a grenadier's cap, covered his head; his hands were disguised in tiger's paws, while a frightful mask, with sharp nose, thin lips, and white color, concealed his face. He was accompanied by ten stout barbarians, dressed and masked like himself, each sounding some discordant instrument. Every door, by law, is required to be left ajar for the free access of the _Juju_, but as soon as the horrid noise is heard approaching from the _tabooed grove_, each inhabitant falls to the ground, with eyes in the dust, to avoid even a look from the irritated spirit. A victim is always agreed upon by the priests and the authorities before they leave the _gree-gree bush_, yet to instil a greater degree of superstitious terror, the frightful _Juju_, as if in doubt, promenades the town till daylight, entering a house now and then, and sometimes committing a murder or two to augment the panic. At dawn the home of the victim,--who, of course, is always the handsomest virgin in the settlement,--is reached, and the _Juju_ immediately seizes and carries her to a place of concealment. Under pain of death her parents and friends are denied the privilege of uttering a complaint, or even of lifting their heads from the dust. Next day the unfortunate mother must seem ignorant of her daughter's doom, or profess herself proud of the _Juju's_ choice. Two days pass without notice of the victim. On the third, at the river side, the king meets his fanatical subjects, clad in their choicest raiment, and wearing their sweetest smiles. A hand of music salutes the sovereign, and suddenly the poor victim, _no longer a virgin and perfectly denuded_, is brought forward by a wizard, who is to act the part of executioner. The living sacrifice moves slowly with measured steps, but is no more to be recognized even by her nearest relatives, for face, body, and limbs, are covered thickly with chalk. As soon as she halts before the king, her hands and feet are bound to a bench near the trunk of a tree. The executioner then takes his stand, and with uplifted eyes and arms, seems to invoke a blessing on the people, while with a single blow of his blade, her head is rolled into the river. The bleeding trunk, laid carefully on a mat, is placed beneath a large tree to remain till a spirit shall bear it to the land of rest, and at night it is secretly removed by the priesthood. It is gratifying to know that these _Jujus_, who in Africa assume the prerogatives of divinity, are only the principals of a religious fraternity who from time immemorial have constituted a secret society in this part of Ethiopia, for the purpose of sustaining their kings and ruling the people through their superstition. By fear and fanaticism these brutal priests exact confessions from ignorant negroes, which, in due time, are announced to the public as divinations of the oracle. The members of the society are the depositories of many secrets, tricks, and medical preparations, by which they are enabled to paralyze the body as well as affect the mind of their victim. The king and his chiefs are generally supreme in this brotherhood of heathen superstition, and the purity of the sacrificed virgin, in the ceremony just described was unquestionably yielded to her brutal prince. FOOTNOTE: [6] From the Portuguese _feitiço_--witchcraft. CHAPTER XLI. I have always regretted that I left Ayudah on my homeward voyage without interpreters to aid in the necessary intercourse with our slaves. There was no one on board who understood a word of their dialect. Many complaints from the negroes that would have been dismissed or satisfactorily adjusted, had we comprehended their vivacious tongues and grievances, were passed over in silence or hushed with the lash. Indeed, the whip alone was the emblem of La Estrella's discipline; and in the end it taught me the saddest of lessons. From the beginning there was manifest discontent among the slaves. I endeavored at first to please and accommodate them by a gracious manner; but manner alone is not appreciated by untamed Africans. A few days after our departure, a slave leaped overboard in a fit of passion, and another choked himself during the night. These two suicides, in twenty-four hours, caused much uneasiness among the officers, and induced me to make every preparation for a revolt. We had been at sea about three weeks without further disturbance, and there was so much merriment among the gangs that were allowed to come on deck, that my apprehensions of danger began gradually to wear away. Suddenly, however, one fair afternoon, a squall broke forth from an almost cloudless sky; and as the boatswain's whistle piped all hands to take in sail, a simultaneous rush was made by the confined slaves at all the after-gratings, and amid the confusion of the rising gale, they knocked down the guard and poured upon deck. The sentry at the _fore-hatch_ seized the cook's axe, and sweeping it round him like a scythe, kept at bay the band that sought to emerge from below him. Meantime, the women in the cabin were not idle. Seconding the males, they rose in a body, and the helmsman was forced to stab several with his knife before he could drive them below again. About forty stalwart devils, yelling and grinning with all the savage ferocity of their wilderness, were now on deck, armed with staves of broken water-casks, or billets of wood, found in the hold. The suddenness of this outbreak did not appal me, for, in the dangerous life of Africa, a trader must be always admonished and never off his guard. The blow that prostrated the first white man was the earliest symptom I detected of the revolt; but, in an instant, I had the arm-chest open on the quarter-deck, and the mate and steward beside me to protect it. Matters, however, did not stand so well forward of the mainmast. Four of the hands were disabled by clubs, while the rest defended themselves and the wounded as well as they could with handspikes, or whatever could suddenly be clutched. I had always charged the cook, on such an emergency, to distribute from his coppers a liberal supply of scalding water upon the belligerents; and, at the first sign of revolt, he endeavored to baptize the heathen with his steaming slush. But dinner had been over for some time, so that the lukewarm liquid only irritated the savages, one of whom laid the unfortunate "doctor" bleeding in the scuppers. All this occurred in perhaps less time than I have taken to tell it; yet, rapid as was the transaction, I saw that, between the squall with its flying sails, and the revolt with its raving blacks, we would soon be in a desperate plight, unless I gave the order _to shoot_. Accordingly, I told my comrades _to aim low and fire at once_. Our carabines had been purposely loaded with buck-shot, to suit such an occasion, so that the first two discharges brought several of the rebels to their knees. Still, the unharmed neither fled or ceased brandishing their weapons. Two more discharges drove them forward amongst the mass of my crew, who had retreated towards the bowsprit; but, being reinforced by the boatswain and carpenter, we took command of the hatches so effectually, that a dozen additional discharges among the ebony legs, drove the refractory to their quarters below. It was time; for sails, ropes, tacks, sheets, and blocks, were flapping, dashing, and rolling about the masts and decks, threatening us with imminent danger from the squall. In a short time, every thing was made snug, the vessel put on our course, and attention paid to the mutineers, who had begun to fight among themselves in the hold! I perceived at once, by the infuriate sounds proceeding from below, that it would not answer to venture in their midst by descending through the hatches. Accordingly, we discharged the women from their quarters under a guard on deck, and sent several resolute and well-armed hands to remove a couple of boards from the bulk-head, that separated the cabin from the hold. When this was accomplished, a party entered, on hands and knees, through the aperture, and began to press the mutineers forward towards the bulk-head of the forecastle. Still, the rebels were hot for fight to the last, and boldly defended themselves with their staves against our weapons. By this time, our lamed cook had rekindled his fires, and the water was once more boiling. The hatches were kept open but guarded, and all who did not fight were suffered to come singly on deck, where they were tied. As only about sixty remained below engaged in conflict, or defying my party of sappers and miners, I ordered a number of auger-holes to be bored in the deck, as the scoundrels were forced forward near the forecastle, when a few buckets of boiling water, rained on them through the fresh apertures, brought the majority to submission. Still, however, two of the most savage held out against water as well as fire. I strove as long as possible to save their lives, but their resistance was so prolonged and perilous, that we were obliged to disarm them _for ever_ by a couple of pistol shots. So ended the sad revolt of "La Estrella," in which two of my men were seriously wounded, while twenty-eight balls and buck-shot were extracted, with sailors' skill, from the lower limbs of the slaves. One woman and three men perished of blows received in the conflict; but none were deliberately slain except the two men, who resisted unto death. I could never account for this mutiny, especially as the blacks from Ayudah and its neighborhood are distinguished for their humble manners and docility. There can be no doubt that the entire gang was not united or concerned in the original outbreak, else we should have had harder work in subduing them, amid the risk and turmoil of a West Indian squall. CHAPTER XLII. There was very little comfort on board La Estrella, after the suppression of this revolt. We lived with a pent-up volcano beneath us, and, day and night, we were ceaselessly vigilant. Terror reigned supreme, and the lash was its sceptre. At last, we made land at Porto Rico, and were swiftly passing its beautiful shores, when the inspector called my attention to the appearance of one of our attendant slaves, whom we had drilled as a sort of cabin-boy. He was a gentle, intelligent child, and had won the hearts of all the officers. His pulse was high, quick and hard; his face and eyes red and swollen; while, on his neck, I detected half a dozen rosy pimples. He was sent immediately to the forecastle, free from contact with any one else, and left there, cut off from the crew, till I could guard against pestilence. It was small-pox! The boy passed a wretched night of fever and pain, developing the malady with all its horrors. It is very likely that I slept as badly as the sufferer, for my mind was busy with his _doom_. Daylight found me on deck in consultation with our veteran boatswain, whose experience in the trade authorized the highest respect for his opinion. Hardened as he was, the old man's eyes filled, his lips trembled, and his voice was husky, as he whispered the verdict in my ear. I guessed it before he said a word; yet I hoped he would have counselled against the dread alternative. As we went aft to the quarter-deck, all eyes were bent upon us, for every one conjectured the malady and feared the result, yet none dared ask a question. I ordered a general inspection of the slaves, yet when a _favorable_ report was made, I did not rest content, and descended to examine each one personally. It was true; the child was _alone_ infected! For half an hour, I trod the deck to and fro restlessly, and caused the crew to subject themselves to inspection. But my sailors were as healthy as the slaves. There was no symptom that indicated approaching danger. I was disappointed again. A single case--a single sign of peril in any quarter, would have spared the poison! That evening, in the stillness of night, a trembling hand stole forward to the afflicted boy with a potion that knows no waking. In a few hours, all was over. Life and the pestilence were crushed together; for a necessary murder had been committed, and the poor victim was beneath the blue water! * * * * * I am not superstitious, but a voyage attended with such calamities could not end happily. Incessant gales and head winds, unusual in this season and latitude, beset us so obstinately, that it became doubtful whether our food and water would last till we reached Matanzas. To add to our risks and misfortunes, a British corvette espied our craft, and gave chase off Cape Maize. All day long she dogged us slowly, but, at night, I tacked off shore, with the expectation of eluding my pursuer. Day-dawn, however, revealed her again on our track, though this time we had unfortunately fallen to leeward. Accordingly, I put La Estrella directly before the wind, and ran till dark with a fresh breeze, when I again dodged the cruiser, and made for the Cuban coast. But the Briton seemed to scent my track, for sunrise revealed him once more in chase. The wind lulled that night to a light breeze, yet the red clouds and haze in the east betokened a gale from that quarter before meridian. A longer pursuit must have given considerable advantage to the enemy, so that my best reliance, I calculated, was in making the small harbor near St. Jago, now about twenty miles distant, where I had already landed two cargoes. The corvette was then full ten miles astern. My resolution to save the cargo and lose the vessel was promptly made;--orders were issued to strike from the slaves the irons they had constantly worn since the mutiny; the boats were made ready; and every man prepared his bag for a rapid launch. On dashed the cruiser, foaming at the bows, under the impetus of the rising gale, which struck him some time before it reached us. We were not more than seven miles apart when the first increased pressure on our sails was felt, and every thing was set and braced to give it the earliest welcome. Then came the tug and race for the beach, three miles ahead. But, under such circumstances, it was hardly to be expected that St. George could carry the day. Still, every nerve was strained to effect the purpose. Regardless of the gale, reef after reef was let out while force pumps moistened his sails; yet nothing was gained. Three miles against seven were too much odds;--and, with a slight move of the helm, and "letting all fly," as we neared the line of surf, to break her headway, La Estrella was fairly and safely _beached_. The sudden shock snapped her mainmast like a pipe-stem, but, as no one was injured, in a twinkling the boats were overboard, crammed with women and children, while a stage was rigged from the bows to the strand, so that the males, the crew and the luggage were soon in charge of my old _haciendado_. Prompt as we were, we were not sufficiently so for the cruiser. Half our cargo was ashore when she backed her topsails off the mouth of the little bay, lowered her boats, filled them with boarders, and steered towards our craft. The delay of half a mile's row gave us time to cling still longer to the wreck, so that, when the boats and corvette began to fire, we wished them joy of their bargain over the remnant of our least valuable negroes. The rescued blacks are now, in all likelihood, citizens of Jamaica; but, under the influence of the gale, La Estrella made a very picturesque bonfire, as we saw it that night from the _azotéa_ of our landlord's domicile. CHAPTER XLIII. Disastrous as was this enterprise, both on the sea and in the counting-house, a couple of months found me on board a splendid clipper,--born of the famous waters of the Chesapeake,--delighting in the name of "AGUILA DE ORO," or "Golden Eagle," and spinning out of the Cape de Verds on a race with a famous West Indian privateer. The "Montesquieu" was the pride of Jamaica for pluck and sailing, when folks of her character were not so unpopular as of late among the British Islands; and many a banter passed between her commander and myself, while I was unsuccessfully waiting till the governor resolved his conscientious difficulties about the _exchange of flags_. At last I offered a bet of five hundred dollars against an equal sum; and next day a bag with the tempting thousand was tied to the end of my mainboom, with an invitation for the boaster to "follow and take." It was understood that, once clear of the harbor, the "Aguila" should have five minutes' start of the Montesquieu, after which we were to crowd sail and begin the race. The contest was quickly noised throughout the port, and the captains smacked their lips over the _déjeuner_ promised by the boaster out of the five hundred dollars won from the "Yankee nutshell." Accordingly, when all was ready and the breeze favored, the eastern cliffs of the Isle were crowded with spectators to witness the regatta. As we were first at sea and clear of the harbor, we delayed for our antagonist; and without claiming the conceded start of five minutes, did not shoot ahead till our rival was within musket shot. But _then_ the tug began with a will; and as the Aguila led, I selected her most favorable trim and kept her two points free. The Montesquieu did the same, but confident of her speed, did not spread all her canvas that would draw. The error, however, was soon seen. Our Chesapeake clipper crawled off as if her opponent was at anchor; and in a jiffy every thing that could be carried was sheeted home and braced to a hair. The breeze was steady and strong. Soon the island was cleared entirely; and by keeping away another point, I got out of the Aguila her utmost capacity as a racer. As she led off, the Montesquieu followed,--but glass by glass, and hour by hour, the distance between us increased, till at sunset the boaster's hull was below the horizon, and my bag taken in as a lawful prize. I did not return to Praya after this adventure, but keeping on towards the coast, in four days entered the Rio Salum, an independent river between the French island of Goree and the British possessions on the Gambia. No slaver had haunted this stream for many a year, so that I was obliged to steer my mosquito pilot-boat full forty miles in the interior, through mangroves and forests, till I struck the trading ground of "the king." After three days' parley I had just concluded my bargain with his breechless majesty, when a "barker" greeted me with the cheerless message that the "Aguila" was surrounded by man-of-war boats! It was true; but the mate refused an inspection of his craft _on neutral ground_, and the naval folks departed. Nevertheless, a week after, when I had just completed my traffic, I was seized by a gang of the treacherous king's own people; delivered to the second lieutenant of a French corvette--"La Bayonnaise;"--and my lovely little Eagle caged as her lawful prey! I confess I have never been able to understand the legal merits of this seizure, so far as the act of the French officers was concerned, as no treaty existed between France and Spain for the suppression of slavery. The reader will not be surprised to learn, therefore, that there was a very loud explosion of wrath among my men when they found themselves prisoners; nor was their fury diminished when our whole band was forced into a dungeon at Goree, which, for size, gloom, and closeness, vied with the celebrated black hole of Calcutta. For three days were we kept in this filthy receptacle, in a burning climate, without communication with friends or inhabitants, and on scanty fare, till it suited the local authorities to transfer us to San Luis, on the Senegal, in charge of a file of marines, _on board our own vessel_! San Luis is the residence of the governor and the seat of the colonial tribunal, and here again we were incarcerated in a military _cachôt_, till several merchants who knew me on the Rio Pongo, interfered, and had us removed to better quarters in the military hospital. I soon learned that there was trouble among the natives. A war had broken out among some of the Moorish tribes, some two hundred miles up the Senegal, and my Aguila was a godsend to the Frenchmen, who needed just such a light craft to guard their returning flotilla with merchandise from Gatam. Accordingly, the craft was armed, manned, and despatched on this expedition _without waiting the decree of a court as to the lawfulness of her seizure_! Meanwhile, the sisters of charity--those angels of devoted mercy, who do not shun even the heats and pestilence of Africa,--made our prison life as comfortable as possible; and had we not seen gratings at the windows, or met a sentinel when we attempted to go out, we might have considered ourselves valetudinarians instead of convicts. A month oozed slowly away in these headquarters of suffering, before a military sergeant apprised us that he had been elevated to the dignity of the long-robe, and appointed our counsel in the approaching trial. No other lawyer was to be had in the colony for love or money, and, perhaps, our military man might have acquitted himself as well as the best, had not his superiors often imposed silence on him during the argument. By this time the nimble Aguila had made two most serviceable trips under the French officers, and proved so valuable to the Gallic government that no one dreamed of recovering her. The colonial authorities had two alternatives under the circumstances,--either to pay for or condemn her,--and as they knew I would not be willing to take the craft again after the destruction of my voyage, the formality of a trial was determined to legalize the condemnation. It was necessary, however, even in Africa, to show that I had violated the territory of the French colony by trading in slaves, and that the Aguila had been caught in the act. I will not attempt a description of the court scene, in which my military friend was browbeaten by the prosecutor, the prosecutor by the judge, and the judge by myself. After various outrages and absurdities, a Mahometan _slave_ was allowed to be sworn as a witness against me; whereupon I burst forth with a torrent of argument, defence, abuse, and scorn, till a couple of soldiers were called to keep my limbs and tongue in forensic order. But the deed was done. The foregone conclusion was formally announced. The Aguila de Oro became King Louis Philippe's property, while my men were condemned to two, my officers to five, and Don Téodor himself, to ten years' confinement in the central prisons of _la belle France_! Such was the style of colonial justice in the reign of _le roi bourgeois_! My sentence aroused the indignation of many respectable merchants at San Luis; and, of course, I did not lack kindly visits in the stronghold to which I was reconducted. It was found to be entirely useless to attack the sympathy of the tribunal, either to procure a rehearing of the cause or mitigation of the judgment. Presently, a generous friend introduced _a saw_ suitable to discuss the toughness of iron bars, and hinted that on the night when my window gratings were severed, a boat might be found waiting to transport me to the opposite shore of the river, whence an independent chief would convey me on camels to Gambia. I know not how it was that the government got wind of my projected flight, but it certainly did, and we were sent on board a station ship lying in the stream. Still my friends did not abandon me. I was apprised that a party,--bound on a shooting frolic down the river on the first _foggy_ morning,--would visit the commander of the hulk,--a noted _bon vivant_,--and while the vessel was surrounded by a crowd of boats, I might slip overboard amid the confusion. Under cover of the dense mist that shrouds the surface of an African river at dawn, I could easily elude even a ball if sent after me, and when I reached the shore, a canoe would be ready to convey me to a friendly ship. The scheme was peculiarly feasible, as the captain happened to be a good fellow, and allowed me unlimited liberty about his vessel. Accordingly, when the note had been duly digested, I called my officers apart, and proposed their participation in my escape. The project was fully discussed by the fellows; but the risk of swimming, even in a fog, under the muzzles of muskets, was a danger they feared encountering. I perceived at once that it would be best to free myself entirely from the encumbrance of such chicken-hearted lubbers, so I bade them take their own course, but divided three thousand francs in government bills among the gang, and presented my gold pocket chronometer to the mate. Next morning an impervious fog laid low on the bosom of the Senegal, but through its heavy folds I detected the measured beat of approaching oars, till five boats, with a sudden rush, dashed alongside us with their noisy and clamorous crews. Just at this very moment a friendly hand passed through my arm, and a gentle tone invited me to a quarter-deck promenade. It was our captain! There was, of course, no possibility of declining the proffered civility, for during the whole of my detention on board, the commander had treated me with the most assiduous politeness. "_Mon cher Canot_," said he, as soon as we got aft,--"you seem to take considerable interest in these visitors of ours, and I wish from the bottom of my heart that you could join the sport; _but, unfortunately for you, these gentlemen will not effect their purpose_!" As I did not entirely comprehend,--though I rather guessed,--his precise meaning, I made an evasive answer; and, arm in arm I was led from the deck to the cabin. When we were perfectly alone, he pointed to a seat, and frankly declared that I had been betrayed by a Judas to his sergeant of marines! I was taken perfectly aback, as I imagined myself almost free, yet the loss of liberty did not paralyze me as much as the perfidy of my men. Like a stupid booby, I stood gazing with a fixed stare at the captain, when the cabin door burst open, and with a shout of joyous merriment the hunters rushed in to greet their comrade. My dress that morning was a very elaborate _negligé_. I had purposely omitted coat, braces, stockings and shoes, so that my privateer costume of trowsers and shirt was not calculated for the reception of strangers. It was natural, therefore, that the first sally of my friendly liberators should be directed against my toilette; I parried it, however, as adroitly as my temper would allow, by reproaching them with their "unseasonable visit, before I could complete the _bath_ which they saw I was prepared for!" The hint was understood; but the captain thought proper to tell the entire tale. No man, he said, would have been happier than he, had I escaped before the treachery. My friends were entreated not to risk further attempts, which might subject me to severe restraints; and my base comrades were forthwith summoned to the cabin, where, in presence of the merchants, they were forced to disgorge the three thousand francs and the chronometer. "But this," said Captain Z----, "is not to be the end of the comedy,--_en avant, messieurs_!" as he led the way to the mess-room, where a sumptuous _déjeuner_ was spread for officers and huntsmen, and over its fragrant fumes my disappointment was, for a while, forgotten. CHAPTER XLIV. For fifteen days more the angry captive bit his thumbs on the taffrail of the guard-ship, and gazed either at vacancy or the waters of the Senegal. At the end of that period, a gunboat transferred our convict party to the frigate Flora, whose first lieutenant, to whom I had been privately recommended, separated me immediately from my men. The scoundrels were kept close prisoners during the whole voyage to France, while my lot was made as light as possible, under the severe sentence awarded at San Luis. The passage was short. At Brest, they landed me privately, while my men and officers were paraded through the streets at mid-day, under a file of _gens d'armes_. I am especially grateful to the commander of this frigate, who alleviated my sufferings by his generous demeanor in every respect, and whose representations to the government of France caused my sentence to be subsequently modified to simple imprisonment. I have so many pleasant recollections of this voyage as a convict in the Flora, that I am loth to recount the following anecdote; yet I hardly think it ought to be omitted, for it is characteristic in a double aspect. It exhibits at once the chivalric courtesy and the coarse boorishness of some classes in the naval service of France, at the period I am describing. On board our frigate there were two Sisters of Charity, who were returning to their parent convent in France, after five years of colonial self-sacrifice in the pestilential marshes of Africa. These noble women lodged in a large state-room, built expressly for their use and comfort on the lower battery-deck, and, according to the ship's rule, were entitled to mess with the lieutenants in their wardroom. It so happened, that among the officers, there was one of those vulgar dolts, whose happiness consists in making others as uncomfortable as possible, both by bullying manners and lewd conversation. He seemed to delight in losing no opportunity to offend the ladies while at table, by ridiculing their calling and piety; yet, not content with these insults, which the nuns received with silent contempt, he grew so bold on one occasion, in the midst of dinner, as to burst forth with a song so gross, that it would have disgraced the orgies of a _cabaret_. The Sisters instantly arose, and, next morning, refused their meals in the wardroom, soliciting the steward to supply them a sailor's ration in their cabin, where they might be free from dishonor. But the charitable women were soon missed from mess, and when the steward's report brought the dangerous idea of a court-martial before the terrified imagination of the vulgarians, a prompt resolve was made to implore pardon for the indecent officer, before the frigate's captain could learn the outrage. It is needless to add that the surgeon--who was appointed ambassador--easily obtained the mercy of these charitable women, and that, henceforth, our lieutenants' wardroom was a model of social propriety. THE PRISON OF BREST. I was not very curious in studying the architecture of the strong stone lock-up, to which they conducted me in the stern and ugly old rendezvous of Brest. I was sick as soon as I beheld it from our deck. The entrance to the harbor, through the long, narrow, rocky strait, defended towards the sea by a frowning castle, and strongly fortified towards the land, looked to me like passing through the throat of a monster, who was to swallow me for ever. But I had little time for observation or reflection on external objects,--my business was with _interiors_: and when the polite midshipman with whom I landed bade farewell, it was only to transfer me to the _concièrge_ of a prison within the royal arsenal. Here I was soon joined by the crew and officers. For a while, I rejected their penitence; but a man who is suddenly swept from the wild liberty of Africa, and doomed for ten years to penitential seclusion, becomes wonderfully forgiving when loneliness eats into his heart, and eternal silence makes the sound of his own voice almost insupportable. One by one, therefore, was restored at least to sociability; so that, when I embraced the permission of our keeper to quit my cell, and move about the prison bounds, I found myself surrounded by seventy or eighty marines and seamen, who were undergoing the penalties of various crimes. The whole establishment was under the _surveillance_ of a naval commissary, subject to strict regulations. In due time, two spacious rooms were assigned for my gang, while the jailer, who turned out to be an amphibious scamp,--half sailor, half soldier,--assured us, "on the honor of a _vieux militaire_," that his entire jurisdiction should be our limits so long as we behaved with propriety. Next day I descended to take exercise in a broad court-yard, over whose lofty walls the fresh blue sky looked temptingly; and was diligently chewing the cud of bitter fancies, when a stout elderly man, in shabby uniform, came to a military halt before me, and, abruptly saluting in regulation style, desired the favor of a word. "_Pardon, mon brâve!_" said the intruder, "but I should be charmed if _Monsieur le capitaine_ will honor me by the information whether it has been his lot to enjoy the accommodations of a French prison, prior to the unlucky mischance which gives us the delight of his society!" "No," said I, sulkily. "_Encore_," continued the questioner, "will it be disagreeable, if I improve this opportunity, by apprising Monsieur _le capitaine_, on the part of our companions and comrades, of the regulations of this royal institution?" "By no means," returned I, somewhat softer. "Then, _mon cher_, the sooner you are initiated into the mysteries of the craft the better, and no one will go through the ceremony more explicitly, briefly and satisfactorily, than myself--_le Caporal Blon_. First of all, _mon brâve_, and most indispensable, as your good sense will teach you, it is necessary that every new comer is bound to pay his footing among the '_government boarders_;' and as you, Monsieur le capitaine, seem to be the honored _chef_ of this charming little squadron, I will make bold to thank you for a _Louis d'or_, or a _Napoleon_, to insure your welcome." The request was no sooner out than complied with. "_Bien!_" continued the corporal, "_c'est un bon enfant, parbleu!_ Now, I have but one more _mystère_ to impart, and that is a regulation which no clever chap disregards. We are companions in misery; we sleep beneath one roof; we eat out of one kettle;--in fact, _nous sommes frères_, and the _secrets of brothers are sacred, within these walls, from jailers and turnkeys_!" As he said these words, he pursed up his mouth, bent his eyes scrutinizingly into mine, and laying his finger on his lip, brought his right hand once more, with a salute, to the oily remnant of a military cap. I was initiated. I gave the required pledge for my party, and, in return, was assured that, in any enterprise undertaken for our escape,--which seemed to be the great object and concern of every body's prison-life,--we should be assisted and protected by our fellow-sufferers. Most of this day was passed in our rooms, and, at dark, after being mustered and counted, we were locked up for the night. For some time we moped and sulked, according to the fashion of all _new_ convicts, but, at length, we sallied forth in a body to the court-yard, determined to take the world as it went, and make the best of a bad bargain. I soon fell into a pleasant habit of chatting familiarly with old Corporal Blon, who was grand chamberlain, or master of ceremonies, to our penal household, and turned out to be a good fellow, though a frequent offender against "_le coq de France_." Blon drew me to a seat in the sunshine, which I enjoyed, after shivering in the cold apartments of the prison; and, stepping off among the prisoners, began to bring them up for introduction to Don Téodor, separately. First of all, I had the honor of receiving Monsieur Laramie, a stout, stanch, well-built marine, who professed to be _maître d'armes_ of our "royal boarding-house," and tendered his services in teaching me the use of rapier and broadsword, at the rate of a _franc_ per week. Next came a burly, beef-eating bully, half sailor, half lubber, who approached with a swinging gait, and was presented as _frère_ Zouche, teacher of single stick, who was also willing to make me skilful in my encounters with footpads for a reasonable salary. Then followed a dancing-master, a tailor, a violin-teacher, a shoemaker, a letter-writer, a barber, a clothes-washer, and various other useful and reputable tradespeople or professors, all of whom expressed anxiety to inform my mind, cultivate my taste, expedite nay correspondence, delight my ear, and improve my appearance, for weekly stipends. I did not, at first, understand precisely the object of all their ceremonious appeals to my purse, but I soon discovered from Corporal Blon,--_who desired an early discount of his note_,--that I was looked on as a sort of Don Magnifico from Africa, who had saved an immense quantity of gold from ancient traffic, all of which I could command, in spite of imprisonment. So I thought it best not to undeceive the industrious wretches, and, accordingly, dismissed each of them with a few kind words, and promised to accept their offers when I became a little more familiar with my quarters. After breakfast, I made a tour of the corridors, to see whether the representations of my morning courtiers were true; and found the shoemakers and tailors busy over toeless boots and patchwork garments. One alcove contained the violinist and dancing-master, giving lessons to several scapegraces in the _terpsichorean_ art; in another was the letter-writer, laboriously adorning a sheet with cupids, hearts, flames, and arrows, while a love-lorn booby knelt beside him, dictating a message to his mistress; in a hall I found two pupils of Monsieur Laramie at _quart_ and _tièrce_; in the corridors I came upon a string of tables, filled with cigars, snuff, writing-paper, ink, pens, wax, wafers, needles and thread; while, in the remotest cell, I discovered a pawnbroker and gambling-table. Who can doubt that a real Gaul knows how to kill time, when he is unwillingly converted into a "government boarder," and transfers the occupations, amusements, and vices of life, to the recesses of a prison! * * * * * Very soon after my incarceration at Brest, I addressed a memorial to the Spanish consul, setting forth the afflictions of twenty-two of his master's subjects, and soliciting the interference of our ambassador at Paris. We were promptly visited by the consul and an eminent lawyer, who asserted his ability to stay proceedings against the ratification of our sentence; but, as the Spanish minister never thought fit to notice our misfortunes, the efforts of the lawyer and the good will of our consul were ineffectual. Three months glided by, while I lingered at Brest; yet my heart did not sink with hope delayed, for the natural buoyancy of my spirit sustained me, and I entered with avidity upon all the schemes and diversions of our stronghold. Blon kept me busy discounting his twenty _sous_ notes, which I afterwards always took care to lose to him at cards. Then I patronized the dancing-master; took two months' lessons with Laramie and Zouche; caused my shoes to be thoroughly mended; had my clothes repaired and scoured; and, finally, patronized all the various industries of my comrades, to the extent of two hundred francs. Suddenly, in the midst of these diversions, an order came for our immediate transfer to the _civil prison_ of Brest, a gloomy tower in the walled _chateau_ of that detestable town. CHAPTER XLV. I was taken from one prison to the other in a boat, and once more spared the mortification of a parade through the streets, under a guard of soldiers. A receipt was given for the whole squad to the _brigadier_ who chaperoned us. My men were summarily distributed by the jailer among the cells already filled with common malefactors; but, as the appearance of the _officers_ indicated the possession of cash, the turnkey offered "_la salle de distinction_" for our use, provided we were satisfied with a monthly rent of ten _francs_. I thought the French government was bound to find suitable accommodations for an involuntary guest, and that it was rather hard to imprison me first, and make me pay board afterwards; but, on reflection, I concluded to accept the offer, hard as it was, and, accordingly, we took possession of a large apartment, with two grated windows looking upon a narrow and sombre court-yard. We had hardly entered the room, when a buxom woman followed with the deepest curtseys, and declared herself "most happy to have it in her power to supply us with beds and bedding, at ten sous per day." She apprised us, moreover, that the daily prison fare consisted of two pounds and a half of black bread, with water _à discretion_, but if we wished, she might introduce the _vivandière_ of the regiment, stationed in the chateau, who would supply our meals twice a day from the mess of the petty officers. My money had not been seriously moth-eaten during our previous confinement, so that I did not hesitate to strike a bargain with Madame Sorret, and to request that _la vivandière_ might make her appearance on the theatre of action as soon as possible. Presently, the door opened again, and the dame reappeared accompanied by two Spanish women, wives of musicians in the corps, who had heard that several of their countrymen had that morning been incarcerated, and availed themselves of the earliest chance to visit and succor them. For the thousandth time I blessed the noble heart that ever beats in the breast of a Spanish woman when distress or calamity appeals, and at once proceeded to arrange the diet of our future prison life. We were to have two meals a day of three dishes, for each of which we were to pay fifteen _sous in advance_. The bargain made, we sat down on the floor for a chat. My brace of Catalan visitors had married in this regiment when the Duke d'Angoulême marched his troops into Spain; and like faithful girls, followed their husbands in all their meanderings about France since the regiment's return. As two of my officers were Catalonians by birth, a friendship sprang up like wildfire between us, and from that hour, these excellent women not only visited us daily, but ran our errands, attended to our health, watched us like sisters, and procured all those little comforts which the tender soul of the sex can alone devise. I hope that few of my readers have personal knowledge of the treatment or fare of civil prisons in the provinces of France during the republican era of which I am writing. I think it well to set down a record of its barbarity. As I before said, the _regular ration_ consisted exclusively of black bread and water. Nine pounds of straw were allowed weekly to each prisoner for his _lair_. Neither blankets nor covering were furnished, even in the winter, and as the cells are built without stoves or chimneys, the wretched convicts were compelled to huddle together in heaps to keep from perishing. Besides this, the government denied all supplies of fresh raiment, so that the wretches who were destitute of friends or means, were alive and hideous with vermin in a few days after incarceration. No amusement was allowed in the fresh air save twice a week, when the prisoners were turned out on the flat roof of the tower, where they might sun themselves for an hour or two under the muzzle of a guard. Such was the treatment endured by twelve of my men during the year they continued in France. There are some folks who may be charitable enough to remark--_that slavers deserved no better!_ I believe that convicts in the central prisons of France, where they were either made or allowed to work, fared better in every respect than in the provincial lock-ups on the coast. There is no doubt, however, that the above description at the epoch of my incarceration, was entirely true of all the smaller jurisdictions, whose culprits were simply doomed to confinement without labor. Often did my heart bleed for the poor sailors, whom I aided to the extent of prudence from my slender means, when I knew not how long it might be my fate to remain an inmate of the chateau. After these unfortunate men had disposed of all their spare garments to obtain now and then a meagre soup to moisten their stony loaves, they were nearly a year without tasting either meat or broth! Once only,--on the anniversary of ST. PHILIPPE,--the Sisters of Charity gave them a pair of bullock's heads to make a _festival_ in honor of the Good King of the French! CHAPTER XLVI. As the apartment rented by us from the jailer was the only one in the prison he had a right to dispose of for his own benefit, several other culprits, able to pay for comfortable lodgings, were from time to time locked up in it. These occasional visitors afforded considerable entertainment for our seclusion, as they were often persons of quality arrested for petty misdemeanors or political opinions, and sometimes _chevaliers d'industrie_, whose professional careers were rich with anecdote and adventure. It was probably a month after we began our intimacy with this "government boarding-house" that our number was increased by a gentleman of cultivated manners and foppish costume. He was, perhaps, a little too much over-dressed with chains, trinkets, and perfumed locks, to be perfectly _comme il faut_, yet there was an intellectual power about his forehead and eyes, and a bewitching smile on his lips, that insinuated themselves into my heart the moment I beheld him. He was precisely the sort of man who is considered by nine tenths of the world as a very "fascinating individual." Accordingly, I welcomed the stranger most cordially in French, and was still more bewitched by the retiring shyness of his modest demeanor. As the jailer retired, a wink signified his desire to commune with me apart in his office, where I learned that the new comer had been arrested under a charge of _counterfeiting_, but on account of his genteel appearance and blood, was placed in our apartment. I had no doubt that neither appearance nor blood had been the springs of sympathy in the jailer's heart, but that the artificial money-maker had judiciously used certain lawful coins to insure better quarters. Nevertheless, I did not hesitate to approve the turnkey's disposal of the suspected felon, and begged him to make no apologies or give himself concern as to the quality of the article that could afford us a moment's amusement in our dreary den. I next proceeded to initiate my gentleman into the mysteries of the _chateau_; and as dinner was about serving, I suggested that the most important of our domestic rites on such occasions, imperatively required three or four bottles of first-rate claret. By this time we had acquired a tolerable knack of "slaughtering the evening." Our Spanish girls supplied us with guitars and violins, which my comrades touched with some skill. We were thus enabled to give an occasional _soirée dansante_, assisted by la Vivandière, her companions Dolorescita, Concha, Madame Sorret, and an old maid who passed for her sister. The arrival of the counterfeiter enabled us to make up a full cotillon without the musicians. Our _soirées_, enlivened by private contributions and a bottle or two of wine, took place on Thursdays and Sundays, while the rest of the week was passed in playing cards, reading romances, writing petitions, flirting with the girls, and cursing our fate and the French government. Fits of wrath against the majesty of Gaul were more frequent in the early morning, when the pleasant sleeper would be suddenly roused from happy dreams by the tramp of soldiers and grating bolts, which announced the unceremonious entrance of our inspector to count his cattle and sound our window gratings. But time wastes one's cash as well as one's patience in prison. The more we grumbled, danced, drank, and eat, the more we spent or lavished, so that my funds looked very like a thin sediment at the bottom of the purse, when I began to reflect upon means of replenishing. I could not beg; I was master of no handicraft; nor was I willing to descend among the vermin of the common chain-gang. Shame prevented an application to my relatives in France or Italy; and when I addressed my old partner or former friends in Cuba, I was not even favored with a reply. At last, my little trinkets and gold chronometer were sacrificed to pay the lawyer for a _final memorial_ and to liquidate a week's lodging in advance. "Now, _mon enfant_," said Madame Sorret, as she took my money,--trimming her cap, and looking at me with that thrifty interest that a Frenchwoman always knows how to turn to the best account;--"now, mon enfant,--this is your last _franc_ and your last week in my apartment, you say;--your last week in a room where you and I, and Babette, Dolorescita, and Concha, and _Monsieur_, have had such good times! _Mais pourquoi, mon cher?_ why shall it be your last week? Come let us think a bit. Won't it be a thousand times better; won't it do you a vast deal more good,--if instead of _sacré-ing le bon Louis Philippe_,--paying lawyers for memorials that are never read,--hoping for letters from the Spanish envoy which never come, and eating your heart up in spite and bitterness--you look the matter plump in the face like a man, and not like a _polisson_, and turn to account those talents which it has pleased _le bon Dieu_ to give you? Voyez vous, _Capitaine Téodore_,--you speak foreign languages like a native; and it was no longer than yesterday that Monsieur Randanne, your advocate, as he came down from the last interview with you, stopped at my bureau, and--'Ah! Madame Sorret,' said he, 'what a linguist poor Canot is,--how delightfully he speaks English, and how glad I should be if he had any place in which he could teach my sons the noble tongue of the great SKATSPEER!' "Now, _mon capitaine_," continued she, "what the good Randanne said, has been growing in my mind ever since, like the salad seed in the box that is sunned in our prison yard. In fact, I have fixed the matter perfectly. You shall have my bed-room for a schoolhouse; and, if you will, you may begin to-morrow with my two sons for pupils, at fifteen _francs_ a month!" Did I not bless the wit and heart of woman again and again in my joy of industrial deliverance! The heart of woman--that noble heart! burn it in the fire of Africa; steep it in the snow of Sweden; lap it in the listless elysium of Indian tropics; cage it in the centre of dungeons, as the palpitating core of that stony rind,--yet every where and always, throughout my wild career, has it been the last sought--but surest, sweetest, and truest of devoted friends! _Aide toi, et Dieu t'aidera!_--was my motto from that moment. For years it was the first lesson of intellectual power and self-reliance that had checkered a life of outlawry, in which adventurous impatience preferred the gambling risks of fortune to the slow accretions of regular toil. I was a schoolmaster! Madame Sorret's plan was perfectly successful. In less than a week I was installed in her chamber, with a class formed of my lady's lads, a son and friend of my lawyer, and a couple of sons of officers in the chateau; the whole producing a monthly income of fifty francs. As I assumed my vocation with the spirit of a needy professor, I gained the good will of all the parents by assiduous instruction of their children. Gradually I extended the sphere of my usefulness, by adding penmanship to my other branches of tuition; and so well did I please the parents, that they volunteered a stipend of eighteen _francs_ more. I would not dare affirm, that my pupils made extraordinary progress; yet I am sure the children not only acquired cleverly, but loved me as a companion. My scheme of instruction was not modelled upon that of other pedagogues; for I simply contented myself, in the small class, with reasoning out each lesson thoroughly, and never allowing the boys to depart till they comprehended every part of their task. After this, it was my habit to engage their interest _in language_, by familiar dialogues, which taught them the names of furniture, apparel, instruments, implements, animals, occupations, trades; and thus I led them insensibly from the most simple nomenclature to the most abstract. I deprived the interview, as much as I could, of task-like formality; and invariably closed the school with a story from my travels or adventures. I may not have ripened my scholars into classical Anglo-Saxons, but I have the happiness to know that I earned an honest living, supported my companions, and obtained the regard of my pupils to such a degree, that the little band accompanied me with tears to the ship, when, long afterwards, I was sent a happy exile from France. CHAPTER XLVII. I have said that our genteel felon was not only refined in manners but shy towards his new companions; nor, for several weeks, could all our efforts rub off his reserve. I was not surprised that he kept aloof from the coarser inmates, but I was not prepared to find that all my own advances to confidence and companionship, were repulsed with even more decision than those of my officers. At last, some passing event disclosed my _true_ character to him, when I learned for the first time that he had mistaken me for _a government spy_; inasmuch as he could not otherwise account for my intimacy with Madame Sorret and her spouse. Our first move towards confidence was owing to the following circumstance. I had been engaged one forenoon in writing a letter to my mother, when Madame Sorret sent for me to see the Sisters of Charity, who were making their rounds with a few comforts for the convicts. I made my toilette and repaired to the parlor, where the charitable women, who heard many kind things of me from the landlady, bestowed a liberal donation of books. Returning quickly to my letter, which I had left open on the table, confident that no one in the room read Italian, I again took up my pen to finish a paragraph. But, as I observed the page, it seemed that I had not written so much, yet the sheet was nearly full of words, and all in my handwriting. I reperused the document and found several lines, which, though in perfect keeping with the sense and context of the composition, were certainly not in my natural style. I was sure I had not used the complimentary language, to which I am always so averse. Still I read the page again--again--and again! I got up; walked about the room; took the paper to the window; put it down; walked about again, and then reperused the letter. For my life, I could not detect the precise difficulty that puzzled me. The paper was, perhaps, bewitched! It was mine, and yet it was not! In my dilemma, I rolled out a round Spanish _carramba_ or two; and, with an _Ave Maria_ of utter bewilderment, begun to put up my writing materials. My companions, who had been huddled in a corner, watching my actions, could stand it no longer, but bursting into peals of hearty laughter, announced that Monsieur Germaine had taken the liberty to add a postscript, while I was deep in literature with the Sisters of Charity! The ice was broken! Monsieur Germaine was not yet convicted, so we gave him the benefit of the British law, and resolving to "consider the fellow innocent till proved to be guilty," we raised him to the dignity of companionship. His education was far superior to mine, and his conversational powers were wonderful. He seemed perfectly familiar with Latin and Greek, and had a commanding knowledge of history, theology, mathematics, and astronomy. I never met his equal in penmanship, drawing, and designing. A few days of sociability sufficed to win a mutual confidence, and to demand the mutual stories of our lives. Germaine was born so high up on those picturesque borders of Piedmont, that it was difficult to say whether the Swiss or Italian predominated in his blood. The troubles and wars of the region impoverished his parents, who had been gentlefolks in better times; yet they managed to bestow the culture that made him the accomplished person I have described. No opportunity offered, however, for his advancement as he reached maturity, and it was thought best that he should go abroad in search of fortune. For a while the quiet and modest youth was successful in the humbler employments to which he stooped for bread; but his address and talents, and especially his skill in designing and penmanship, attracted the notice of a sharper, with whom he accidentally became intimate; so that, before he knew it, the adroit scrivener was both _used_ and _compromised_ by the knave. In truth, I do not suppose that Germaine's will was made of stern and tough materials. Those soft and gentle beings are generally disposed to grasp the pleasures of life without labor; and whenever a relaxed conscience has once allowed its possessor to tamper with crime, its success is not only a stimulant but a motive for farther enterprise. Germaine was soon a successful forger. He amassed twenty or thirty thousand _francs_ by practices so perfect in their execution, that he never dreamed of detection. But, at last, a daring speculation made him our companion in the tower. Three days before his introduction to the _chateau_ of Brest, and a few hours before the regular departure of the Paris mail, Germaine called on an exchange broker with seventeen thousand _francs_ in gold, with which he purchased a sight draft on the capital. Soon after he called a second time on the broker, and exhibiting a letter of orders, bearing a regular post-mark, from his principals, who were alleged to be oil merchants at Marseilles, desired to countermand the transaction, and receive back his gold for the bill of exchange which he tendered. The principal partner of the brokers did not happen to be within at the moment, and the junior declined complying till his return. _En attendant_, Monsieur Germaine sallied forth, and offered a neighboring broker an additional half per cent, on the current value of gold for the cash. He expressed, as the cause of this sacrifice, extreme anxiety to depart by the four o'clock _diligence_, but the urgency aroused the broker's suspicion, and led him to request Germaine's return in half an hour, which he required to collect the specie. The incautious forger went off to his hotel with the promise in his ear, while the wary broker dropped in on the drawers of the draft to compare notes. The result of the interview was a visit to the _bureau de police_, whence a couple of officers were despatched to Germaine's hotel. They entered the dandy's room in disguise, but they were not quick enough to save from destruction several _proof impressions_ of blank drafts, which the counterfeiter cast into the fire the moment he heard a knock at his door. In his trunks, they found engraving tools, a small press, various acids and a variety of inks; all of which were duly noted and preserved, while Monsieur Germaine was committed to the _chateau_. In those days there were no electric wires, and as the weather became thick and cloudy, the old-fashioned semaphore or telegraph was useless in giving notice to the Parisian police to stop the payment of a suspected draft, and arrest the forger's accomplice in the capital. Soon after the mail _of that day_ from Brest reached the metropolis, a lady of most respectable appearance, clad in mourning, presented herself at the counter of the broker's Parisian correspondent, and exhibiting an unquestionable draft, drew seventeen thousand francs. From the rapidity with which the whole of this adroit scheme was accomplished in Brest and Paris, it seems that Germaine required but four hours to copy, engrave, print and fill up the forged bill; and yet, so perfectly did he succeed, that when the discharged draft came back to Brest, neither drawers, brokers, nor police could distinguish between the true one and the false! No one had seen Germaine at work, or could prove complicity with the lady. The mourning dame was nowhere to be found in Paris, Brest or Marseilles; so that when I finally quitted the _chateau_, the adroit _chevalier_ was still an inmate, but detained only _on suspicion_! CHAPTER XLVIII. This charming young soldier of fortune was our room-mate for nine months, and engaged in several of our enterprises for escape. But Germaine was more a man of _finesse_ than action, and his imprisonment was the first mishap of that nature in his felonious career; so that I cannot say I derived much advantage, either from his contrivances or suggestions. * * * * * I always cultivated a sneaking fondness for the sex, and was, perhaps, especially devoted to those who _might_ aid me if they pleased, when I got into difficulties. Into this category, under existing circumstances, fell that very worthy person, Mademoiselle Babette, whom I have heretofore rather ungallantly reported as an "antique virgin." It is true that Babette was, perhaps, not as young as she had been; but an unmarried Frenchwoman is unquestionably possessed of an elixir against age,--some _eau restoratif_,--with which she defies time, preserves her outlines, and keeps up that elastic gayety of heart, which renders her always the most delightful of companions. Now, I do not pretend, when I flirted with Babette, and sometimes made downright love to the damsel, that I ever intended leading her to any of the altars of Brest, when it should please the "king of the barricades" to release me from prison. No such design ever possessed my mind, at the age of twenty-seven, towards a maid of thirty. Yet, I confess that Babette bewitched the sting and memory from many an hour of prison-life, and played the comedy of love _à la Francaise_ to such perfection, that I doubt not her heart rebounded from the encounter as scarless as my own. Germaine joked me very often about the tender passion, the danger of trifling with youthful hearts, and the risk I ran from encounters with such glittering eyes; till, one day, he suggested that we should take advantage of the flirtation, by turning it to our benefit in flight. Sorret and his wife often went out in the afternoon, and left the gate and the keys solely in charge of Babette, who improved their absence by spending half the time in our apartment. Now, Germaine proposed that, during one of these absences, I should, in my capacity as teacher, feign some excuse to leave our room, and, if I found the lieutenant porteress unwilling to yield the keys to my passionate entreaty, we would unhesitatingly seize, gag, and muffle the damsel so securely, that, with the keys in our possession, we might open the gates, and pass without question the only sentinels who guarded the exterior corridor. Germaine was eloquent upon the merit of his scheme, while, to my mind, it indicated the bungling project of a beginner, and was promptly rejected, because I would not injure with violence the innocent girl I had trifled with, and because I would not dishonor the kindness of Sorret and his wife, by compromising their _personal_ vigilance. Next morning, Germaine turned over to me long before daylight, and whispered his delight that I had discarded his scheme, for it "never could have been perfected without passports to quit the town!" This deficiency, he said, had absorbed his mind the livelong night, and, at last, a bright thought suggested the supply. "Babette," continued the forger, "is _not_ to be molested in any way, so you may make your mind easy about your sweetheart, though I am afraid she will not be able to accompany us in our enterprise. First and foremost, we must have a visit from our Spanish girls to-morrow, and, as you enjoy more influence than I, it will be best for you to prepare them. Dolores, who is by far the cleverest of the party, is to go with Concha boldly to the prefecture of police, and demand passports for Paris. These, in all likelihood, will be furnished without question. The passports once in hand, our _demoiselles_ must be off to an apothecary's for such acids as I shall prescribe; and then, _mon capitaine_, leave the rest to me!" I turned the matter over in my mind, pretending to finish a morning nap, and, while we were dressing, assented. The Spanish women, who never refused their countrymen a favor, daringly obtained the passports, and smuggled them into prison with the required acids. Before night the deed was done; the gender of the documents was changed; Germaine was metamorphosed into "_Pietro Nazzolini_" a tailor, and I was turned into a certain "_Dominico Antonetti_," by trade a carpenter! How to escape was our next concern. This could not be effected without breaking prison,--a task of some enterprise, as our apartment was above a store-room, always closed, barred, and locked. The door of our room opened on a long passage, broken at intervals by several iron gates before the main portal was reached; so that our only hope was the single window, that illuminated our apartment and looked into a small yard, guarded after sunset by a sentinel. This court, moreover, was entirely hemmed in by a wall, which, if successfully escaladed, would lead us to the parade ground of the _chateau_. Days passed, while my dull brain and the kindled fancy of the new Nazzolini were inventing plans. Pietro had schemes enough, for his imagination was both vivid and ceaseless; but whenever he came to reduce them to words, it was always found that they required a little more "_polishing_ in certain links," which he forthwith retired to perform. One of our greatest difficulties was, how to deal with my officers, who had proved so false on the Senegal. We debated the matter for a long time; but, considering that they were sick of long confinement and bereft of future comfort without my labor we resolved to let them partake our flight, though, once outside the chateau, we would abandon them to their own resources. Accordingly, we imparted our scheme, which was eagerly embraced; and, through the kindness of our Spanish girls, we secretly despatched all our spare garments, so that we might not issue bare into the censorious world. All being prepared, it was proposed by _Signore Pietro_ that New Year, which was at hand, should be signalized by our enterprise. As I had carefully kept and secreted the saw received from my Goree friends, we possessed a most valuable implement; so that it was resolved to attack a bar the moment we had been mustered and locked up on that auspicious night. At eleven, a descent into the court beneath the window was to be commenced, and, if this proved successful, there was no doubt we could reach the beach across the parade. But the sentinel still required "polishing" out of the court-yard! This was a tremendous obstacle; still, Germaine once more put on his fancy-wings, and recommended that our fair Catalans, whose occupation made them familiar with the whole regiment, should ascertain the sentinels for the night in question, and, as it was a festival, they might easily insinuate a few bottles of brandy into the guard-house, and prepare the soldiery for sleep instead of vigilance. But the success and merit of this plan were considered so doubtful, that another scheme was kept in reserve to silence the soldier whose duty required a continual march beneath our window. If the women failed to accomplish our wishes with liquor, and if the sentry persisted in a vigilant promenade, it was proposed, as soon as the bar parted, to drop the noose of a _lazo_ quietly over his head, and dragging him with a run to the window-sill, knock out his brains, if necessary, with the iron. The last days of December were at hand; every body was busy with hope or preparation; the women carried off our garments; then they brought us an abundance of fishing lines, hidden beneath their petticoats; and, finally, a rope, strong enough to hang a man, was spun in darkness by the whole detachment. The wished-for day at length came, with the jollity, merriment, and drunkenness, that attend it almost universally throughout _la belle France_. But there was not so sober a party in the kingdom as that which was anxiously gathered together over a wineless meal in the chateau of Brest. We trembled lest a word, a traitor, or an accident, should frustrate our hope of life and freedom. In the afternoon, our Spanish women, gay with fresh apparel, dashing ribbons, and abundant claret, visited their fluttering birds in the cage, and _assured_ success. The sergeant of the guard was married to one of their intimate friends, and, _in her_ company, they were confident, on such a night, of reaching the guard-room. A long embrace, perhaps a kiss, and a most affectionate farewell! Supper was over. Muster passed. Oh! how slowly was drawn the curtain of darkness over that shortest of days. Would night _never_ come? It did. By eight o'clock the severed bar hung by threads, while the well-greased _lazo_ lay coiled on the sill. Nine o'clock brought the sentinel, who began his customary tramp with great regularity, but broke forth in a drinking song as soon as the sergeant was out of hearing. So impatient were my comrades for escape, that they declined waiting till the appointed hour of eleven, and, at ten, ranged themselves along the floor, with the end of the rope firmly grasped, ready for a strong and sudden pull, while the intrepid Germaine stood by, bar in hand, ready to strike, if necessary. At a signal from me, after I had dropped the _lazo_, they were to haul up, make fast, and follow us through the aperture by a longer rope, which was already fastened for our descent. Softly the sash was opened, and, stretching my neck into the darkness, I distinctly saw, by a bright star-light, the form of the sentinel, pacing, with staggering strides, beneath the casement. Presently, he came to a dead halt, at the termination of a _roulade_ in his song, and, in a wink, the _lazo_ was over him. A kick with my heel served for signal to the halliards, and up flew the pendant against the window-sill. But, alas! it was not the sentinel. The noose had not slipped or caught with sufficient rapidity, and escaping the soldier's neck, it only grasped and secured his _chako_ and musket. In an instant, I saw the fatal misfortune, and, clearing the weapon, dropped it, _plumb_, on the head of the tipsy and terrified guardsman. Its fall must have stunned and prostrated the poor fellow, for not a word or groan escaped from the court-yard. CHAPTER XLIX. Silent as was the sentinel after the restoration of his musket, it was, nevertheless, unanimously voted that our enterprise was a failure. Accordingly, the bar was replaced, the window closed, our implements stowed in the mattresses, and ourselves packed beneath the blankets, in momentary expectation of a visit from the jailer and military commander. We passed the night in feverish expectation, but our bolts remained undrawn. Bright and early, with a plenteous breakfast, appeared our spirited Spaniards, and, as the turnkey admitted and locked them in, they burst into a fit of uproarious laughter at our maladroit adventure. The poor sentinel, they said, was found, at the end of his watch, stretched on the ground in a sort of fainting fit and half frozen. He swore, in accounting for a bleeding skull, that an invisible hand from the store-room beneath us, had dealt him a blow that felled him to the earth! His story was so silly and maudlin, that the captain of the guard, who remembered the festival and knew the tipsiness of the entire watch, gave no heed to the tale, but charged it to the account of New Year and _eau de vie_. We were sadly jeered by the lasses for our want of pluck, in forsaking the advantage fortune had thrown in our way, and I was specially charged to practise my hand more carefully with the _lazo_, when I next got a chance on the plantations of Cuba, or among the _vaqueros_ of Mexico. As we expected the daily visit from the punctual inspector, to try our bars with his iron rod, we hastened to secure our window, and stuffing all the fissures with straw and rags, so as almost to exclude light, we complained bitterly to the official of the cold wind to which the apertures exposed us, and thus prevented him from touching the sash. Besides this precaution, we thought it best to get rid of our tools and cord in the same way we received them; and thus terminated our project of escape. Soon after, I heard from a relative in Paris, that my petition had been presented to Louis Philippe, whose reception of it encouraged a hope for my pardon. The news somewhat restored us to the good humor that used to prevail in our party, but which had been sadly dashed since our failure. Even Monsieur Germaine, saw in our anticipated liberation, a phantom of encouragement for himself, and began to talk confidentially of his plans. He fancied that I had been gradually schooled _into a taste for misdemeanor_, so that he favored me with innumerable anecdotes of swindling, and countless schemes of future robbery. By making me an incipient accomplice, he thought to secure my aid either for his escape or release. I will take the liberty to record a single specimen of Germaine's prolific fancy in regard to the higher grades of elegant felony, and will leave him to the tender mercy of the French government, which allows no _bail_ for such _chevaliers_ but chastises their crime with an iron hand. We had scarcely recovered from our trepidation, when the forger got up one morning, with a radiant face, and whispered that the past night was fruitful to his brain, for he had planned an enterprise which would yield a fortune for _any two_ who were wise and bold enough to undertake it. Germaine was a philosophic felon. It was perhaps the trick of an intellect naturally astute, and of a spirit originally refined, to reject the vulgar baseness of common pilfering. Germaine never stole or defrauded;--he only outwitted and outgeneralled. If he spoke of the world, either in politics or trade, he insisted that shams, forgeries, and counterfeits were quite as much played off in the language, address and dealings of statesmen, merchants, parsons, doctors, and lawyers, as they were by himself and his accomplices. The only difference between the felon and the jury, he alleged, existed in the fact that the jury was in the majority and the felon in the vocative. He advocated the worst forms of liberty and equality; he was decidedly in favor of a division of property, which he was sure would end what _the law called_ crime, because all would be supplied on the basis of a common balance. Whenever he told his ancient exploits or suggested new ones, he glossed them invariably with a rhetorical varnish about the laws of nature, social contracts, human rights, _meum and tuum_; and concluded, to his perfect satisfaction, with a favorite axiom, that "he had quite as much _right_ to the world's goods as they who possessed them." A hypocritical farrago of this character always prefaced one of Germaine's tales, so that I hardly ever interrupted the rogue when he became fluent about social theories, but waited patiently, in confidence that I was shortly to be entertained with an adventure or enterprise. The forger began his story on this occasion with a most fantastical and exaggerated account of the celebrated _Santissima Casa_ of Loretto, which he imagined was still endowed with all the treasures it possessed anterior to its losses during the pontificate of Pius VI. He asserted that it was the richest tabernacle in Europe, and that the adornments of the altar were valued at several millions of crowns,--the votive offerings and legacies of devotees during a long period of time. This holy and opulent shrine, the professor of politico-economico-equality proposed to rob at some convenient period; and, to effect it, he had "polished" the following plan during the watches of the night. On some stormy day of winter, he proposed to leave Ancona, as a traveller from South America, and approaching the convent attached to the church of the Madonna of Loretto, demand hospitality for a penitent who had made the tiresome pilgrimage on a vow to the Virgin. There could be no doubt of his admission. For three days he would most devoutly attend _matins_ and vespers, and crave permission to serve as an _acolyte_ at the altar, the duties of which he perfectly understood. When the period of his departure arrived, he would be seized with sudden illness, and, in all likelihood, the brethren would lodge him in their infirmary. As his malady increased, he would call a confessor, and, pouring into the father's credulous ear a tale of woes, sorrows, superstition and humbug, he would make the convent a donation of _all his estates in South America_, and pray for a remission of his sins! When this comedy was over, convalescence should supervene; but he would adhere with conscientious obstinacy to his dying gift, and produce documents showing the immense value of the bequeathed property. Presently, he would be suddenly smitten with a love for monastic life; and, on his knees, the Prior was to be interceded for admission to the brotherhood. All this, probably, would require time, as well as playacting of the adroitest character; yet he felt confident he could perform the drama. At last, when a vow had sealed his novitiate, no one of the fraternity should exceed him in fervent piety and bodily mortification. Every hour would find him at the altar before the Virgin, missal in hand, _and eyes intent on the glittering image_. This incessant and unwatched devotion, he calculated, would enable him in two months to take an impression of all the locks in the _sacristy_; and, as his confederate would call every market-day at the convent gate, in the guise of a pedler, he could easily cause the keys to be fabricated in different villages by common locksmiths. Germaine considered it indispensable that his colleague in this enterprise should be _a sailor_; for the flight with booty was to be made over sea from Ancona. As soon, therefore, as the keys were perfected, and in the hands of the impostor, the mariner was to cause a _felucca_, to cruise off shore, in readiness for immediate departure. Then, at a fixed time, the pedler should lurk near the convent, with a couple of mules; and, in the dead of night, the sacrilege would be accomplished. When he finished his story, the pleasant villain, rubbed his hands with glee, and skipping about the floor like a dancing-master, began to whistle "_La Marsellaise_." That night, he retired earlier than usual, "to polish," as he said; but before dawn he again aroused me, with a pull, and whispered a sudden fear that his "Loretto masterpiece" would prove an abortion! "I have considered," said he, "that the Virgin's jewels are probably nothing but false stones and waxen pearls in pinchbeck gold! Surely, those cunning monks would never leave such an amount of property idle, simply to adorn a picture or statue! No, I am positive they must have sold the gems, substituted imitations, and bought property for their opulent convents!"--As I felt convinced of this fact, and had some inkling of a recollection about losses during a former reign, I was happy to hear that the swindler's fancy had "polished" the crime to absolute annihilation. And now that I am about to leave this forging philosopher in prison, to mature, doubtless, some greater act of villany, I will merely add, that when I departed, he was constructing a new scheme, in which the Emperor of Russia was to be victim and paymaster. As my liberation occurred before the finishing touches were given by the artist, I am unable to say how it fared with Nicholas; but I doubt, exceedingly, whether the galleys of Brest contained a greater scoundrel, both in deeds and imaginings, than the metaphysical dandy--Monsieur Germaine.[7] At length, my pardon and freedom came; but this was the sole reparation I received at the hands of Louis Philippe, for the unjust seizure and appropriation of my vessel in the neutral waters of Africa. When Sorret rushed in, followed by his wife, Babette, and the children, to announce the glorious news, the good fellow's emotion was so great, that he stood staring at me like a booby, and for a long while could not articulate. Then came La Vivandière Dolores, and my pretty Concha. Next arrived Monsieur Randanne, with the rest of my pupils; so that, in an hour, I was overwhelmed with sunshine and tears. I can still feel the grasp of Sorret's hand, as he led me beyond the bolts and bars, to read the act of royal grace. May we not feel a _spasm_ of regret at leaving even a prison? Next day, an affectionate crowd of friends and pupils followed the emancipated slaver to a vessel, which, by order of the king, was to bear me, a willing exile, from France for ever. FOOTNOTE: [7] I know not what was his fate; but he has probably long since realized his dream of equality, though, in all likelihood, it was the equality described by old Patris of Caen: "Ici tous sont egaux; je ne te dois plus rien: Je suis sur mon _fumier_ comme toi sur le tien!" CHAPTER L. I said, at the end of the last chapter, that my friends bade adieu on the quay of Brest to an "emancipated _slaver_;" for _slaver_ I was determined to continue, notwithstanding the capture of my vessel, and the tedious incarceration of my body. Had the seizure and sentence been justly inflicted for a violation of local or international law, I might, perhaps, have become penitent for early sins, during the long hours of reflection afforded me in the _chateau_. But, with all the fervor of an ardent and thwarted nature, I was much more disposed to rebel and revenge myself when opportunity occurred, than to confess my sins with a lowly and obedient heart. Indeed, most of my time in prison had been spent in cursing the court and king, or in reflecting how I should get back to Africa in the speediest manner, if I was ever lucky enough to elude the grasp of the model monarch. The vessel that bore me into perpetual banishment from France, was bound to Lisbon; but, delaying in Portugal only long enough to procure a new passport, under an assumed name, I spat upon Louis Philippe's "eternal exile," and took shipping for his loyal port of Marseilles! Here I found two vessels fitting for the coast of Africa; but, in consequence of the frightful prevalence of cholera, all mercantile adventures were temporarily suspended. In fact, such was the panic, that no one dreamed of despatching the vessel in which I was promised a passage, until the pestilence subsided. Till this occurred, as my means were of the scantiest character, I took lodgings in an humble hotel. The dreadful malady was then apparently at its height, and nearly all the hotels were deserted, for most of the regular inhabitants had fled; while the city was unfrequented by strangers except under pressing duty. It is altogether probable that the lodging-houses and hotels would have been closed entirely, so slight was their patronage, had not the prefect issued an order, depriving of their licenses, for the space of two years, all who shut their doors on strangers. Accordingly, even when the scourge swept many hundred victims daily to their graves, every hotel, café, grocery, butcher shop, and bakery, was regularly opened in Marseilles; so that a dread of famine was not added to the fear of cholera. Of course, the lowly establishment where I dwelt was not thronged at this epoch; most of its inmates or frequenters had departed for the country before my arrival, and I found the house tenanted alone by three boarders and a surly landlord, who cursed the authorities for their compulsory edict. My reception, therefore, was by no means cordial. I was told that the proclamation had not prevented the _cook_ from departing; and that I must be content with whatever the master of the house could toss up for my fare. A sailor--especially one fresh from the _chateau_ of Brest,--is not apt to be over nice in the article of cookery, and I readily accompanied my knight of the rueful countenance to his _table d'hôte_, which I found to be a long oval board, three fourths bare of cloth and guests, while five human visages clustered around its end. I took my seat opposite a trim dashing brunette, with the brightest eyes and rosiest cheeks imaginable. Her face was so healthily refreshing in the midst of malady and death, that I altogether forgot the cholera under the charm of her ardent gaze. Next me sat a comical sort of fellow, who did not delay in scraping an acquaintance, and jocularly insisted on introducing all the company. "It's a case of emergency," said the droll, "we have no time to lose or to stand on the ceremony of fashionable etiquette. Here to-day, gone to-morrow--is the motto of Marseilles! _Hola!_ _Messieurs_, shall we not make the most of new acquaintances when they may be so brief?" I thanked him for his hospitality. I had so little to lose in this world, either of property or friends, that I feared the cholera quite as slightly as any of the company. "A thousand thanks," said I, "Monsieur, for your politeness; I'll bury you to-morrow, if it is the cholera's pleasure, with ten times more pleasure now that I have had the honor of an introduction. A fashionable man hardly cares to be civil to a stranger--even if he happens to be a corpse!" There was so hearty a cheer at this sally, that, in spite of the shallow soundings of my purse, I called for a fresh bottle, and pledged the party in a bumper all round. "And now," continued my neighbor, "as it may be necessary for some one of us to write your epitaph in a day or two, or, at least, to send a message of condolence and sympathy to your friends; pray let us know a bit of your history, and what the devil brings you to Marseilles when the cholera thermometer is up to 1000 degrees per diem?" Very few words were necessary to impart such a name and tale as I chose to invent for the company's edification. "Santiago Ximenes," and my tawny skin betokened my nationality and profession, while my threadbare garments spoke louder than words that I was at suit with Fortune. Presently, after a lull in the chat, a dapper little prig of a dandy, who sat on my left, volunteered to inform me that he was no less a personage than _le Docteur_ Du Jean, a medical practitioner fresh from Metropolitan hospitals, who, in a spirit of the loftiest philanthropy, visited this provincial town at his own expense to succor the poor. "_C'est une belle dame, notre vis à vis, n'est elle pas mon cher?_" said he pointing to our patron saint opposite. I admitted without argument that she was the most charming woman I ever saw out of Cuba. "_C'est ma chère amie_," whispered he confidentially in my ear, strongly emphasizing the word "friend" and nodding very knowingly towards the lady herself. "At the present moment the dear little creature is exclusively under my charge and protection, for she is _en route_ to join her husband, a captain in the army at Algiers; but, alas! _grâce à Dieu_, there's no chance of a transport so long as this cursed pestilence blockades Marseilles! Do you know the man on your right?--No! _Bien!_ that's the celebrated S----, the oratorical advocate about whom the papers rang when Louis Philippe began his assault on the press. He's on his way to Algiers too, and will be more successful in liberalizing the Arabs than the French. That old chap over yonder with the snuffy nose, the snuffy wig, and snuffy coat, is a grand speculator in horses, on his way to the richest cavalry corps of the army; and, as for our _maître d'hotel_ at the head of this segment, _pauvre diable_, you see what he is without a revelation. The pestilence has nearly used him up. He sits half the day in his bureau on the stairs looking for guests who never come, reading the record which adds no name, cursing the cholera, counting a penitential _ave_ and _pater_ on his rosary, and flying from the despair of silence and desertion to his pans to stew our wretched fare. _Voila mon cher, la carte de la table! le Cholera et ses Convives!_" If there is a creature I detest in the world it is a flippant, intrusive, voluntary youth who thrusts his conversation and affairs upon strangers, and makes bold to monopolize their time with his unasked confidence. Such persons are always silly and vulgar pretenders; and before Doctor Du Jean got through his description of the lady, I had already classified him among my particular aversions. When the doctor nodded so patronizingly to the dame, and spoke of his friendly protectorate, I thought I saw that the quick-witted woman not only comprehended his intimation, but denied it by the sudden glance she gave me from beneath her thin and arching eyebrows. So, when dinner was over, without saying a word to the doctor, I made a slight inclination of the head to Madame Duprez, and rising before the other guests, passed to her side and tendered my arm for a promenade on the balcony. "_Mon docteur_," said I as we left the room, "life, you know, is too short and precarious to suffer a monopoly of such blessings,"--looking intently into the lady's eyes,--"besides which, we sailors, in defiance of you landsmen, go in for the most 'perfect freedom of the seas.'" Madame Duprez declared I was entirely right; that I was no pirate.--"Mais, mon capitaine," said the fair one, as she leaned with a fond pressure on my arm, "I'd have no objection if you were, so that you'd capture me from that frightful gallipot! Besides, you sailors are always so gallant towards the ladies, and tell us such delightful stories, and bring us such charming presents when you come home, and love us so much while you're in port, because you see so few when you are away! Now isn't that a delightful _catalogue raisonné_ of arguments why women should love _les mâtelots_?" "Pity then, madame," said I, "that you married a _soldier_." "Ah!" returned the ready dame, "_I_ didn't;--that was my mother's match. In France, you know, the old folks marry us; but we take the liberty to _love_ whomsoever we please!" "But, what of _Monsieur le capitaine_, in the present instance?" interrupted I inquiringly. "Ah! _fi donc!_" said Madame, "what bad taste to speak of an _absent_, husband when you have the liberty to talk with a _present_ wife!" In fact, the lovely Helen of this tavern-Troy was the dearest of coquettes, whose fence of tongue was as beautiful a game of thrust and parry as I ever saw played with Parisian foils. Du Jean had been horribly mortified by the contemptuous manner in which the threadbare Spaniard bore off his imaginary prize; and would probably have assailed me on the spot, before he knew my temper or quality, had not the lawyer drawn him aside on a plea of medical advice and given his inflamed honor time to cool. But the wit of Madame Duprez was not so satisfied by a single specimen of our mutual folly, as to allow the surgeon to resume the undisputed post of _cavaliere serviente_ which he occupied before my arrival. It was her delight to see us at loggerheads for her favor, and though we were both aware of her arrant coquetry, neither had moral courage enough, in that dismal time, to desist from offering the most servile courtesies. We mined and counter-mined, marched and counter-marched, deceived and re-deceived, for several days, without material advantage to either, till, at last, the affair ended in a battle. The prefecture's bulletin announced at dinner-time twelve hundred deaths! but, in spite of the horror, or perhaps to drown its memory, our undiminished party called for several more bottles, and became uproariously gay. The conversation took a physiological turn; and gradually the modern science of phrenology, which was just then becoming fashionable, came on the carpet. Doctor Du Jean professed familiarity with its mysteries. Spurzheim, he said, had been his professor in Paris. He could read our characters on our skulls as if they were written in a book. Powers, passions, propensities, and even thoughts, could not be hidden from him;--and, "who dared try his skill?" "_C'est moi!_" said Madame Duprez, as she drew her chair to the centre of the room, and accepting the challenge, cast loose her beautiful hair, which fell in a raven torrent over snowy neck and shoulders, heightening tenfold every charm of face and figure. Du Jean was nothing loth to commence his tender manipulation of the charming head, whose wicked mouth and teasing eyes shot glances of defiance at me. Several organs were disclosed and explained to the company; but then came others which he ventured to whisper in her ears alone, and, as he did so, I noticed that his mouth was pressed rather deeper than I thought needful among the folds of her heavy locks. I took the liberty to hint rather jestingly that the doctor "_cut quite too deep_ with his lips;" but the coquette at once saw my annoyance, and persisted with malicious delight in making Du Jean whisper--heaven knows what--in her ear. In fact, she insisted that some of the organs should be repeated to her three or four times over, while, at each rehearsal, the doctor grew bolder in his dives among the curls, and the lady louder and redder in her merriment. At last, propriety required that the scene should be closed, and no one knew better than this arch coquette the precise limit of decency's bounds. Next came the lawyer's cranium; then followed the horse-jockey and tavern-keeper; and finally, it was _my_ turn to take the stool. I made every objection I could think of against submitting to inspection, for I was sure the surgeon had wit enough not to lose so good a chance of quizzing or ridiculing me; but a whispered word from Madame forced an assent, with the stipulation that Du Jean should allow _me_ to examine his skull afterwards, pretending that if he had studied with Spurzheim, I had learned the science from Gall. The doctor accepted the terms and began his lecture. First of all my Jealousy was enormous, and only equalled by my Conceit and Envy. I was altogether destitute of Love, Friendship, or the Moral sentiments. I was an immoderate wine-bibber; extremely avaricious; passionate, revengeful, and blood-thirsty; in fine, I was a monstrous conglomerate of every thing devilish and dreadful. The first two or three essays of the doctor amused the company and brought down a round of laughter; but as he grew coarser and coarser, I saw the increasing disgust of our comrades by their silence, though I preserved my temper most admirably till he was done. Then I rose slowly from the seat, and pointing the doctor silently to the vacant chair,--for I could not speak with rage,--I took my stand immediately in front of him, gazing intently into his eyes. The company gathered eagerly round, expecting I would retaliate wittily, or pay him back in his coin of abuse. After a minute's pause I regained my power of speech, and inquired whether the phrenologist was ready. He replied affirmatively; whereupon my right hand discovered the bump of impudence with a tremendous slap on his left cheek, while my left hand detected the organ of blackguardism with equal prominence on his right! It was natural that this new mode of scientific investigation was as novel and surprising as it was disagreeable to poor Du Jean; for, in an instant, we were exchanging blows with intense zeal, and would probably have borrowed a couple of graves from the cholera, had not the boarders interfered. All hands, however, were unanimous in my favor, asserting that Du Jean had provoked me beyond endurance; and, as _la belle Duprez_ joined heartily in the verdict, the doctor gave up the contest, and, ever after, "cut" the lady. CHAPTER LI. In the first lull of the pestilence, the French merchantman was despatched from Marseilles, and, in twenty-seven days, I had the pleasure to shake hands with the generous friends, who, two years before, labored so hard for my escape. The colonial government soon got wind of my presence notwithstanding my disguise, and warning me from Goree, cut short the joys of an African welcome. I reached Sierra Leone in time to witness the arbitrary proceeding of the British government towards Spanish traders and coasters, by virtue of the treaty for the suppression of the slave-trade. _Six months_ after this compact was signed and ratified in London and Madrid, it was made known with the proverbial despatch of Spain, in the Islands of Cuba and Porto Rico. Its stipulations were such as to allow very considerable latitude of judgment in captures; and when prizes were once within the grasp of the British lion, that amiable animal was neither prompt to release nor anxious to acquit. Accordingly, when I reached Sierra Leone, I beheld at anchor under government guns, some thirty or forty vessels seized by cruisers, several of which I have reason to believe were captured in the "Middle Passage," bound from Havana to Spain, but entirely free from the taint or design of slavery. I was not so inquisitive or patriotic in regard to treaty rights and violations, as to dally from mere curiosity in Sierra Leone. My chief object was employment. At twenty-eight, after trials, hazards, and chances enough to have won half a dozen fortunes, I was utterly penniless. The Mongo of Kambia,--the Mahometan convert of Ahmah-de-Bellah,--the pet of the Ali-Mami of Footha-Yallon,--the leader of slave caravans,--the owner of barracoons,--and the bold master of clippers that defied the British flag, was reduced to the humble situation of coast-pilot and interpreter on board an American brig bound to the celebrated slave mart of Gallinas! We reached our destination safely; but I doubt exceedingly whether the "Reaper's" captain knows to this day that his brig was guided by a marine adventurer, who knew nothing of the coast or port save the little he gleaned in half a dozen chats with a Spaniard, who was familiar with this notorious resort and its surroundings. In the history of African servitude, no theatre of Spanish, Portuguese, British, or American action has been the scene of more touching, tragic, and _profitable_ incidents than the one to which fortune had now directed my feet. Before the generous heart and far-seeing mind of America perceived _in Colonization_, the true secret of Africa's hope, the whole of its coast, from the Rio Gambia to Cape Palmas, without a break except at Sierra Leone, was the secure haunt of daring slavers. The first impression on this lawless disposal of full fifteen hundred miles of beach and continent, was made by the bold establishment of Liberia; and, little by little has its power extended, until treaty, purchase, negotiation, and influence, drove the trade from the entire region. After the firm establishment of this colony, the slave-trade on the windward coast, north and west of Cape Palmas, was mainly confined to Portuguese settlements at Bissaos, on the Rios Grande, Nunez, and Pongo, at Grand and Little Bassa, New Sestros and Trade-town; but the lordly establishment at Gallinas was the heart of the slave marts, to which, in fact, Cape Mesurado was only second in importance. Our concern is now with Gallinas. Nearly one hundred miles north-west of Monrovia, a short and sluggish river, hearing this well-known name, oozes lazily into the Atlantic; and, carrying down in the rainy season a rich alluvion from the interior, sinks the deposit where the tide meets the Atlantic, and forms an interminable mesh of spongy islands. To one who approaches from sea, they loom up from its surface, covered with reeds and mangroves, like an immense field of _fungi_, betokening the damp and dismal field which death and slavery have selected for their grand metropolis. A spot like this, possessed, of course, no peculiar advantages for agriculture or commerce; but its dangerous bar, and its extreme desolation, fitted it for the haunt of the outlaw and slaver. Such, in all likelihood, were the reasons that induced Don Pedro Blanco, a well-educated mariner from Malaga, to select Gallinas as the field of his operations. Don Pedro visited this place originally in command of a slaver; but failing to complete his cargo, sent his vessel back with one hundred negroes, whose value was barely sufficient to pay the mates and crew. Blanco, however, remained on the coast with a portion of the Conquistador's cargo, and, on its basis, began a trade with the natives and slaver-captains, till, four years after, he remitted his owners the product of their merchandise, and began to flourish on his own account. The honest return of an investment long given over as lost, was perhaps the most active stimulant of his success, and for many years he monopolized the traffic of the Vey country, reaping enormous profits from his enterprise. Gallinas was not in its prime when I came thither, yet enough of its ancient power and influence remained to show the comprehensive mind of Pedro Blanco. As I entered the river, and wound along through the labyrinth of islands, I was struck, first of all, with the vigilance that made this Spaniard stud the field with look-out seats, protected from sun and rain, erected some seventy-five or hundred feet above the ground, either on poles or on isolated trees, from which the horizon was constantly swept by telescopes, to announce the approach of cruisers or slavers. These telegraphic operators were the keenest men on the islands, who were never at fault, in discriminating between friend and foe. About a mile from the river's mouth we found a group of islets, on each of which was erected the factory of some particular slave-merchant belonging to the grand confederacy. Blanco's establishments were on several of these marshy flats. On one, near the mouth, he had his place of business or trade with foreign vessels, presided over by his principal clerk, an astute and clever gentleman. On another island, more remote, was his residence, where the only white person was a sister, who, for a while, shared with Don Pedro his solitary and penitential domain. Here this man of education and refined address surrounded himself with every luxury that could be purchased in Europe or the Indies, and dwelt in a sort of oriental but semi-barbarous splendor, that suited an African prince rather than a Spanish grandee. Further inland was another islet, devoted to his seraglio, within whose recesses each of his favorites inhabited her separate establishment, after the fashion of the natives. Independent of all these were other islands, devoted to the barracoons or slave-prisons, ten or twelve of which contained from one hundred to five hundred slaves in each. These barracoons were made of rough staves or poles of the hardest trees, four or six inches in diameter, driven five feet in the ground, and clamped together by double rows of iron bars. Their roofs were constructed of similar wood, strongly secured, and overlaid with a thick thatch of long and wiry grass, rendering the interior both dry and cool. At the ends, watch-houses--built near the entrance--were tenanted by sentinels, with loaded muskets. Each barracoon was tended by two or four Spaniards or Portuguese; but I have rarely met a more wretched class of human beings, upon whom fever and dropsy seemed to have emptied their vials. Such were the surroundings of Don Pedro in 1836, when I first saw his slender figure, swarthy face, and received the graceful welcome, which I hardly expected from one who had passed fifteen years without crossing the bar of Gallinas! Three years after this interview, he left the coast for ever, with a fortune of near a million. For a while, he dwelt in Havana, engaged in commerce; but I understood that family difficulties induced him to retire altogether from trade; so that, if still alive, he is probably a resident of "Geneva la Superba," whither he went from the island of Cuba. The power of this man among the natives is well-known; it far exceeded that of Cha-cha, of whom I have already spoken. Resolved as he was to be successful in traffic, he left no means untried, with blacks as well as whites, to secure prosperity. I have often been asked what was the character of a mind which could voluntarily isolate itself for near a lifetime amid the pestilential swamps of a burning climate, trafficking in human flesh, exciting wars, bribing and corrupting ignorant negroes; totally without society, amusement, excitement, or change; living, from year to year, the same dull round of seasons and faces; without companionship, save that of men at war with law; cut loose from all ties except those which avarice formed among European outcasts who were willing to become satellites to such a luminary as Don Pedro? I have always replied to the question, that this African enigma puzzled _me_ as well as those orderly and systematic persons, who would naturally be more shocked at the tastes and prolonged career of a resident slave-factor in the marshes of Gallinas. I heard many tales on the coast of Blanco's cruelty, but I doubt them quite as much as I do the stories of his pride and arrogance. I have heard it said that he shot a sailor for daring to ask him for permission to light his cigar at the _puro_ of the Don. Upon another occasion, it is said that he was travelling the beach some distance from Gallinas, near the island of Sherbro, where he was unknown, when he approached a native hut for rest and refreshment. The owner was squatted at the door, and, on being requested by Don Pedro to hand him fire to light his cigar, deliberately refused. In an instant Blanco drew back, seized a carabine from one of his attendants, and slew the negro on the spot. It is true that the narrator apologized for Don Pedro, by saying, that to deny a Castilian _fire for his tobacco_ was the gravest insult that can be offered him; yet, from my knowledge of the person in question, I cannot believe that he carried etiquette to so frightful a pitch, even among a class whose lives are considered of trifling value _except in market_. On several occasions, during our subsequent intimacy, I knew him to chastise with rods, even to the brink of death, servants who ventured to infringe the sacred limits of his _seraglio_. But, on the other hand, his generosity was proverbially ostentatious, not only among the natives, whom it was his interest to suborn, but to the whites who were in his employ, or needed his kindly succor. I have already alluded to his mental culture, which was decidedly _soigné_ for a Spaniard of his original grade and time. His memory was remarkable. I remember one night, while several of his _employés_ were striving unsuccessfully to repeat the Lord's prayer in Latin, upon which they had made a bet, that Don Pedro joined the party, and taking up the wager, went through the petition without faltering. It was, indeed, a sad parody on prayer to hear its blessed accents fall perfectly from such lips on a bet; but when it was won, the slaver insisted on receiving _the slave which was the stake_, and immediately bestowed him in charity on a captain, who had fallen into the clutches of a British cruiser! Such is a rude sketch of the great man merchant of Africa, the Rothschild of slavery, whose bills on England, France, or the United States, were as good as gold in Sierra Leone and Monrovia! CHAPTER LII. The day after our arrival within the realm of this great spider,--who, throned in the centre of his mesh, was able to catch almost every fly that flew athwart the web,--I landed at one of the minor factories, and sold a thousand quarter-kegs of powder to Don José Ramon. But, next day, when I proceeded in my capacity of interpreter to the establishment of Don Pedro, I found his Castilian plumage ruffled, and, though we were received with formal politeness, he declined to purchase, because we had failed to address _him_ in advance of any other factor on the river. The folks at Sierra Leone dwelt so tenderly on the generous side of Blanco's character, that I was still not without hope that I might induce him to purchase a good deal of our rum and tobacco, which would be drugs on our hands unless he consented to relieve us. I did not think it altogether wrong, therefore, to concoct a little _ruse_ whereby I hoped to touch the pocket through the breast of the Don. In fact, I addressed him a note, in which I truly related my recent mishaps, adventures, and imprisonments; but I concluded the narrative with a hope that he would succor one so destitute and unhappy, by allowing him to win an honest _commission_ allowed by the American captain on any sales I could effect. The bait took; a prompt, laconic answer returned; I was bidden to come ashore with the invoice of our cargo; and, _for my sake_, Don Pedro purchased from the Yankee brig $5000 worth of rum and tobacco, all of which was paid by drafts on London, _of which slaves were, of course, the original basis_! My imaginary commissions, however, remained in the purse of the owners. An accident occurred in landing our merchandise, which will serve to illustrate the character of Blanco. While the hogsheads of tobacco were discharging, our second mate, who suffered from _strabismus_ more painfully than almost any cross-eyed man I ever saw, became excessively provoked with one of the native boatmen who had been employed in the service. It is probable that the negro was insolent, which the mate thought proper to chastise by throwing staves at the Krooman's head. The negro fled, seeking refuge on the other side of his canoe; but the enraged officer continued the pursuit, and, in his double-sighted blundering, ran against an oar which the persecuted black suddenly lifted in self-defence. I know not whether it was rage or blindness, or both combined, that prevented the American from seeing the blade, but on he dashed, rushing impetuously against the implement, severing his lip with a frightful gash, and knocking four teeth from his upper jaw. Of course, the luckless negro instantly fled to "the bush;" and, that night, in the agony of delirium, caused by fever and dreaded deformity, the mate terminated his existence by laudanum. The African law condemns the man who _draws blood_ to a severe fine in slaves, proportioned to the harm that may have been inflicted. Accordingly, the culprit Krooman, innocent as he was of premeditated evil, now lay heavily loaded with irons in Don Pedro's barracoon, awaiting the sentence which the whites in his service already declared _should be death_. "He struck a white!" they said, and the wound he inflicted was reported to have caused that white man's ruin. But, luckily, before the sentence was executed, _I_ came ashore, and, as the transaction occurred in my presence, I ventured to appeal from the verdict of public opinion to Don Pedro, with the hope that I might exculpate the Krooman. My simple and truthful story was sufficient. An order was instantly given for the black's release, and, in spite of native chiefs and grumbling whites, who were savagely greedy for the fellow's blood, Don Pedro persisted in his judgment and sent him back on board the "Reaper." The character manifested by Blanco on this occasion, and the admirable management of his factory, induced me to seize a favorable moment to offer my services to the mighty trader. They were promptly accepted, and in a short time I was employed as _principal_ in one of Don Pedro's branches. The Vey natives on this river and its neighborhood were not numerous before the establishment of Spanish factories, but since 1813, the epoch of the arrival of several Cuban vessels with rich, merchandise, the neighboring tribes flocked to the swampy flats, and as there was much similarity in the language and habits of the natives and emigrants, they soon intermarried and mingled in ownership of the soil. In proportion as these upstarts were educated in slave-trade under the influence of opulent factors, they greedily acquired the habit of hunting their own kind and abandoned all other occupations but war and kidnapping. As the country was prolific and the trade profitable, the thousands and tens of thousands annually sent abroad from Gallinas, soon began to exhaust the neighborhood; but the appetite for plunder was neither satiated nor stopped by distance, when it became necessary for the neighboring natives to extend their forays and hunts far into the interior. In a few years war raged wherever the influence of this river extended. The slave factories supplied the huntsmen with powder, weapons, and enticing merchandise, so that they fearlessly advanced against ignorant multitudes, who, too silly to comprehend the benefit of alliance, fought the aggressors singly, and, of course, became their prey. Still, however, the demand increased. Don Pedro and his satellites had struck a vein richer than the gold coast. His flush barracoons became proverbial throughout the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, and his look-outs were ceaseless in their signals of approaching vessels. New factories were established, as branches, north and south of the parent den. Mana Rock, Sherbro, Sugarei, Cape Mount, Little Cape Mount, and even Digby, at the door of Monrovia, all had depots and barracoons of slaves belonging to the whites of Gallinas. But this prosperity did not endure. The torch of discord, in a civil war which was designed for revengeful murder rather than slavery, was kindled by a black Paris, who had deprived his uncle of an Ethiopian Helen. Every bush and hamlet contained its Achilles and Ulysses, and every town rose to the dignity of a Troy. The geographical configuration of the country, as I have described it, isolated almost every family of note on various branches of the river, so that nearly all were enabled to fortify themselves within their islands or marshy flats. The principal parties in this family feud were the Amarars and Shiakars. Amarar was a native of Shebar, and, through several generations, had Mandingo blood in his veins;--Shiakar, born on the river, considered himself a noble of the land, and being aggressor in this conflict, disputed his prize with the wildest ferocity of a savage. The whites, who are ever on the watch for native quarrels, wisely refrained from partisanship with either of the combatants, but continued to purchase the prisoners brought to their factories by both parties. Many a vessel bore across the Atlantic two inveterate enemies shackled to the same bolt, while others met on the same deck a long-lost child or brother who had been captured in the civil war. I might fill a volume with the narrative of this horrid conflict before it was terminated by the death of Amarar. For several months this savage had been blockaded in his stockade by Shiakar's warriors. At length a sortie became indispensable to obtain provisions, but the enemy were too numerous to justify the risk. Upon this, Amarar called his soothsayer, and required him to name a propitious moment for the sally. The oracle retired to his den, and, after suitable incantations, declared that the effort should be made as soon as the hands of Amarar were stained in the blood of his own son. It is said that the prophet intended the victim to be a youthful son of Amarar, who had joined his mother's family, and was then distant; but the impatient and superstitious savage, seeing a child of his own, two years old, at hand, when the oracle announced the decree, snatched the infant from his mother's arms, threw it into a rice mortar, and, with a pestle, mashed it to death! The sacrifice over, a sortie was ordered. The infuriate and starving savages, roused by the oracle and inflamed by the bloody scene, rushed forth tumultuously. Amarar, armed with the pestle, still warm and reeking with his infant's blood, was foremost in the onset. The besiegers gave way and fled; the town was re-provisioned; the fortifications of the enemy demolished, and the soothsayer rewarded with a slave for his barbarous prediction! At another time, Amarar was on the point of attacking a strongly fortified town, when doubts were intimated of success. Again the wizard was consulted, when the mysterious oracle declared that the chief "_could not conquer till he returned once more to his mother's womb_!" That night Amarar committed the blackest of incests; but his party was repulsed, and the false prophet stoned to death! These are faint incidents of a savage drama which lasted several years, until Amarar, in his native town, became the prisoner of Shiakar's soldiery. Mana, his captor, caused him to be decapitated; and while the blood still streamed from the severed neck, the monster's head was thrust into the fresh-torn bowels of his mother! CHAPTER LIII. The first expedition upon which Don Pedro Blanco despatched me revealed a new phase of Africa to my astonished eyes. I was sent in a small Portuguese schooner to Liberia for tobacco; and here the trader who had never contemplated the negro on the shores of his parent country except as a slave or a catcher of slaves, first beheld the rudiments of an infant state, which in time may become the wedge of Ethiopian civilization. The comfortable government house, neat public warerooms, large emigration home, designed for the accommodation of the houseless; clean and spacious streets, with brick stores and dwellings; the twin churches with their bells and comfortable surroundings; the genial welcome from well dressed negroes; the regular wharves and trim craft on the stocks, and last of all, a visit from a colored collector with a _printed_ bill for twelve dollars "anchor dues," all convinced me that there was, in truth, something more in these ebony frames than an article of commerce and labor. I paid the bill eagerly,--considering that a document _printed in Africa by Negroes_, under North American influence, would be a curiosity among the infidels of Gallinas! My engagements with Blanco had been made on the basis of familiarity with the slave-trade in all its branches, but my independent spirit and impatient temper forbade, from the first, the acceptance of any subordinate position at Gallinas. Accordingly, as soon as I returned from the new Republic, Don Pedro desired me to prepare for the establishment of a branch factory, under my exclusive control, at New Sestros, an independent principality in the hands of a Bassa chief. I lost no time in setting forth on this career of comparative independence, and landed with the trading cargo provided for me, at the Kroomen's town, where I thought it best to dwell till a factory could be built. An African, as well as a white man, must be drilled into the traffic. It is one of those things that do not "come by nature:" yet its mysteries are acquired, like the mysteries of commerce generally, with much more facility by some tribes than others. I found this signally illustrated by the prince and people of New Sestros, and very soon detected their great inferiority to the Soosoos, Mandingoes, and Veys. For a time their conduct was so silly, arrogant, and trifling, that I closed my chests and broke off communication. Besides this, the slaves they offered were of an inferior character and held at exorbitant prices. Still, as I was commanded to purchase rapidly, I managed to collect about seventy-five negroes of medium grades, all of whom I designed sending to Gallinas in the schooner that was tugging at her anchor off the beach. At the proper time I sent for the black prince _to assist me in shipping the slaves_, and to receive the head-money which was his export duty on my cargo. The answer to my message was an illustration of the character and insolence of the ragamuffins with whom I had to deal. "The prince," returned my messenger, "don't like your sauciness, Don Téodore, _and won't come till you beg his pardon by a present_!" It is very true that after my visit to their republic, I began to entertain a greater degree of respect than was my wont, for black men, yet my contempt for the original, unmodified race was so great, that when the prince's son, a boy of sixteen, delivered this reply on behalf of his father, I did not hesitate to cram it down his throat by a back-handed blow, which sent the sprig of royalty bleeding and howling home. It may be easily imagined what was the condition of the native town when the boy got back to the "palace," and told his tale of Spanish boxing. In less than ten minutes, another messenger arrived with an order for my departure from the country "before next day at noon;"--an order which, the envoy declared, would be _enforced_ by the outraged townsfolk unless I willingly complied. Now, I had been too long in Africa to tremble before a negro prince, and though I really hated the region, I determined to disobey in order to teach the upstart a lesson of civilized manners. Accordingly, I made suitable preparations for resistance, and, when my hired servants and _barracooniers_ fled in terror at the prince's command, I landed some whites from my schooner, to aid in protecting our slaves. By this time, my house had been constructed of the frail bamboos and matting which are exclusively used in the buildings of the Bassa country. I had added a cane verandah or piazza to mine, and protected it from the pilfering natives, by a high palisade, that effectually excluded all intruders. Within the area of this inclosure was slung my hammock, and here I ate my meals, read, wrote, and received "Princes" as well as the mob. At nightfall, I loaded twenty-five muskets, and placed them _inside my sofa_, which was a long trade-chest. I covered the deal table with a blanket, beneath whose pendent folds I concealed a keg of powder _with the head out_. Hard by, under a broad-brimmed _sombrero_, lay a pair of double-barrelled pistols. With these dispositions of my volcanic armory, I swung myself asleep in the hammock, and leaving the three whites to take turns in watching, never stirred till an hour after sunrise, when I was roused by the war-drum and bells from the village, announcing the prince's approach. In a few minutes my small inclosure of palisades was filled with armed and gibbering savages, while his majesty, in the red coat of a British drummer, but without any trowsers, strutted pompously into my presence. Of course, I assumed an air of humble civility, and leading the potentate to one end of the guarded piazza, where he was completely isolated from his people, I stationed myself between the table and the _sombrero_. Some of the prince's relations attempted to follow him within my inclosure, but, according to established rules, they dared not advance beyond an assigned limit. When the formalities were over, a dead silence prevailed for some minutes. I looked calmly and firmly into the prince's eyes, and waited for him to speak. Still he was silent. At last, getting tired of dumb-show, I asked the negro if he had "come to assist me in shipping my slaves; the sun is getting rather high," said I, "and we had better begin without delay!" "Did you get my message?" was his reply, "and why haven't you gone?" "Of course I received your message," returned I, "but as I came to New Sestros at my leisure, I intend to go away when it suits me. Besides this, Prince Freeman, I have no fear that you will do me the least harm, especially as I shall be _before_ you in any capers of that sort." Then, by a sudden jerk, I threw off the blanket that hid the exposed powder, and, with pistols in hand, one aimed at the keg and the other at the king, I dared him to give an order for my expulsion. It is inconceivable how _moving_ this process proved, not only to Freeman, but to the crowd comprising his body-guard. The poor blusterer, entirely cut off from big companions, was in a laughable panic. His tawny skin became ashen, as he bounded from his seat and rushed to the extremity of the piazza; and, to make a long story short, in a few minutes he was as penitent and humble as a dog. I was, of course, not unforgiving, when Freeman advanced to the rail, and warning the blacks that he had "changed his mind," ordered the odorous crowd out of my inclosure. Before the negroes departed, however, I made him swear eternal fidelity and friendship in their presence, after which I sealed the compact with a couple of demijohns of New England rum. Before sunset, seventy-five slaves were shipped for me in his canoes, and ever after, Prince Freeman was a model monument of the virtues of gunpowder physic! CHAPTER LIV. The summary treatment of this ebony potentate convinced the Kroo and Fishmen of New Sestros that they would find my breakfast parties no child's play. Bold _bravado_ had the best effect on the adjacent inland as well as the immediate coast. The free blacks not only treated my person and people with more respect, but began to supply me with better grades of negroes; so that when Don Pedro found my success increasing, he not only resolved to establish a permanent factory, but enlarged my commission to ten slaves for every hundred I procured. Thereupon, I at once commenced the erection of buildings suitable for my personal comfort and the security of slaves. I selected a pretty site closer to the beach. A commodious two-story house, surrounded by double verandahs, was topped by a look-out which commanded an ocean-view of vast extent, and flanked by houses for all the necessities of a first-rate factory. There were stores, a private kitchen, a rice house, houses for domestic servants, a public workshop, a depot for water, a slave-kitchen, huts for single men, and sheds under which gangs were allowed to recreate from time to time during daylight. The whole was surrounded by a tall hedge-fence, thickly planted, and entered by a double gate, on either side of which were long and separate _barracoons_ for males and females. The entrance of each slave-pen was commanded by a cannon, while in the centre of the square, I left a vacant space, whereon I have often seen seven hundred slaves, guarded by half a dozen musketeers, singing, drumming and dancing, after their frugal meals. It is a pleasant fancy of the natives, who find our surnames rather difficult of pronunciation, while they know very little of the Christian calendar, to baptize a new comer with some title, for which, any chattel or merchandise that strikes their fancy, is apt to stand godfather. My exploit with the prince christened me "Powder" on the spot; but when they saw my magnificent establishment, beheld the wealth of my warehouse, and heard the name of "store," I was forthwith whitewashed into "_Storee_." And "_Storee_," without occupying a legislative seat in Africa, was destined to effect a rapid change in the motives and prospects of that quarter. In a few months, New Sestros was alive. The isolated beach, which before my arrival was dotted with half a dozen Kroo hovels, now counted a couple of flourishing towns, whose inhabitants were supplied with merchandise and labor in my factory. The neighboring princes and chiefs, confident of selling their captives, struggled to the sea-shore through the trackless forest; and in a very brief period, Prince Freeman, who "no likee war" over my powder-keg, sent expedition after expedition against adjacent tribes, to redress imaginary grievances, or to settle old bills with his great-grandfather's debtors. There was no absolute idea of "extending the area of freedom, or of territorial annexation," but it was wonderful to behold how keen became the sovereign's sensibility to national wrongs, and how patriotically he labored to vindicate his country's rights. It is true, this African metamorphosis was not brought about without some sacrifice of humanity; still I am confident that during my stay, greater strides were made towards modern civilization than during the visit of any other factor. When I landed among the handful of savages I found them given up to the basest superstition. All classes of males as well as females, were liable to be accused upon any pretext by the _juju-men_ or priests, and the dangerous _saucy-wood_ potion was invariably administered to test their guilt or innocence. It frequently happened that accusations of witchcraft or evil practices were purchased from these wretches in order to get rid of a sick wife, an imbecile parent, or an opulent relative; and, as the poisonous draught was mixed and graduated by the _juju-man_, it rarely failed to prove fatal when the drinker's death was necessary.[F] Ordeals of this character occurred almost daily in the neighboring country, of course destroying numbers of innocent victims of cupidity or malice. I very soon observed the frequency of this abominable crime, and when it was next attempted in the little settlement that clustered around my factory, I respectfully requested that the accused might be locked up _for safety in my barracoon_, till the fatal liquid was prepared and the hour for its administration arrived. It will be readily understood that the saucy-wood beverage, like any other, may be prepared in various degrees of strength, so that the operator has entire control of its noxious qualities. If the accused has friends, either to pay or tamper with the medicator, the draft is commonly made weak enough to insure its harmless rejection from the culprit's stomach; but when the victim is friendless, time is allowed for the entire venom to exude, and the drinker dies ere he can drink the second bowl. Very soon after the offer of my _barracoon_ as a prison for the accused, a Krooman was brought to it, accused of causing his nephew's death by fatal incantations. The _juju_ had been consulted and confirmed the suspicion; whereupon the luckless negro was seized, ironed, and delivered to my custody. Next day early the _juju-man_ ground his bark, mixed it with water, and simmered the potion over a slow fire to extract the poison's strength. As I had reason to believe that especial enmity was entertained against the imprisoned uncle, I called at the _juju's_ hovel while the medication was proceeding, and, with the bribe of a bottle, requested him to impart triple power to the noxious draught. My own _juju_, I said, had nullified his by pronouncing the accused innocent, and I was exceedingly anxious to test the relative truth of our soothsayers. The rascal promised implicit compliance, and I hastened back to the _barracoon_ to await the fatal hour. Up to the very moment of the draught's administration, I remained alone with the culprit, and administering a double dose of tartar-emetic just before the gate was opened, I led him forth loaded with irons. The daring negro, strong in his truth, and confident of the white man's superior witchcraft, swallowed the draught without a wink, and in less than a minute, the rejected venom established his innocence, and covered the African wizard with confusion. This important trial and its results were of course noised abroad throughout so superstitious and credulous a community. The released Krooman told his companions of the "white-man-saucy-wood," administered by me in the _barracoon_; and, ever afterwards, the accused were brought to my sanctuary where the conflicting charm of my emetic soon conquered the native poison and saved many a useful life. In a short time the malicious practice was discontinued altogether. * * * * * During the favorable season, I had been deprived of three vessels by British cruisers, and, for as many months, had not shipped a single slave,--five hundred of whom were now crowded in my _barracoons_, and demanded our utmost vigilance for safe keeping. In the gang, I found a family consisting of a man, his wife, three children and a sister, all sold under an express obligation of exile and slavery among Christians. The luckless father was captured by my blackguard friend Prince Freeman in person, and the family had been secured when the parents' village was subsequently stormed. Barrah was an outlaw and an especial offender in the eyes of an African, though his faults were hardly greater than the deeds that bestowed honor and knighthood in the palmy days of our ancestral feudalism. Barrah was the discarded son of a chief in the interior, and had presumed to blockade the public path towards the beach, and collect duties from transient passengers or caravans. This interfered with Freeman and his revenues; but, in addition to the pecuniary damage, the alleged robber ventured on several occasions to defeat and plunder the prince's vagabonds, so that, in time, he became rich and strong enough to build a town and fortify it with a regular stockade, _directly on the highway_! All these offences were so heinous in the sight of my beach prince, that no foot was suffered to cool till Barrah was captured. Once within his power, Freeman would not have hesitated to kill his implacable enemy as soon as delivered at New Sestros; but the interference of friends, and, perhaps, the laudable conviction that a live negro was worth more than a dead one, induced his highness to sell him under pledge of Cuban banishment. Barrah made several ineffectual attempts to break my _barracoon_ and elude the watchfulness of my guards, so that they were frequently obliged to restrict his liberty, deprive him of comforts, or add to his shackles. In fact, he was one of the most formidable savages I ever encountered, even among the thousands who passed in terrible procession before me in Africa. One day he set fire to the bamboo-matting with which a portion of the _barracoon_ was sheltered from the sun, for which he was severely lashed; but next day, when allowed, under pretence of ague, to crawl with his heavy irons to the kitchen fire, he suddenly dashed a brand into the thatch, and, seizing another, sprang towards the powder-house, which his heavy shackles did not allow him to reach before he was felled to the earth. Freeman visited me soon afterwards, and, in spite of profit and liquor, insisted on taking the brutal savage back; but, in the mean time, the Bassa chief, to whom my prince was subordinate, heard of Barrah's attempt on my magazine, and demanded the felon to expiate his crime, according to the law of his country, at the stake. No argument could appease the infuriate judges, who declared that a cruel death would alone satisfy the people whose lives had been endangered by the robber. Nevertheless, I declined delivering the victim for such a fate, so that, in the end, we compromised the sentence by shooting Barrah in the presence of all the slaves and townsfolk,--the most unconcerned spectators among whom were his wife and sister! FOOTNOTE: [F] _Saucy-wood_ is the reddish bark of the _gedu_ tree, which when ground and mixed with water, makes a poisonous draught, believed to be infallible in the detection of crime. It is, in fact, "a trial by ordeal;" if the drinker survives he is innocent, if he perishes, guilty. CHAPTER LV. There is no river at the New Sestros settlement, though geographers, with their usual accuracy in African outlines, have often projected one on charts and maps. Two miles from the short and perilous beach where I built my _barracoons_, there was a slender stream, which, in consequence of its shallow bed, and narrow, rock-bound entrance, the natives call "Poor River;" but my factory was at New Sestros _proper_; and there, as I have said, there was no water outlet from the interior; in fact, nothing but an embayed strand of two hundred yards, flanked by dangerous cliffs. Such a beach, open to the broad ocean and for ever exposed to the fall rage of its storms, is of course more or less dangerous at all times for landing; and, even when the air is perfectly calm, the common surf of the sea pours inward with tremendous and combing waves, which threaten the boats of all who venture among them without experienced skill. Indeed, the landing at New Sestros would be impracticable were it not for the dexterous Kroomen, whose canoes sever and surmount the billows in spite of their terrific power. Kroomen and Fishmen are different people from the Bushmen. The two former classes inhabit the sea-shore exclusively, and living apart from other African tribes, are governed by their elders under a somewhat democratic system. The Bushmen do not suffer the Kroos and Fishes to trade with the interior; but, in recompense for the monopoly of traffic with the strongholds of Africa's heart, these expert boatmen maintain despotic sway along the beach in trade with the shipping. As European or Yankee boats cannot live in the surf I have described, the Kroo and Fishmen have an advantage over their brothers of the Bush, as well as over the whites, which they are not backward in using to their profit. In fact, the Bushmen fight, travel, steal and trade, while the Kroos and Fishes, who for ages have fringed at least seven hundred miles of African coast, constitute the mariners, without whose skill and boldness slaves would be drugs in caravans or _barracoons_. And this is especially the case since British, French, and American cruisers have driven the traffic from every nook and corner of the west coast that even resembled _a harbor_, and forced the slavers to lay in wait in open roadsteads for their prey. The Kroo canoe, wedge-like at both ends, is hollowed from the solid trunk of a tree to the thickness of an inch. Of course they are so light and buoyant that they not only lie like a feather on the surface of the sea, so as to require nothing but freedom from water for their safety, but a canoe, capable of containing four people, may be borne on the shoulders of one or two to any reasonable distance. Accordingly, Kroomen and Fishmen are the prime pets of all slavers, traders, and men-of-war that frequent the west coast of Africa; while no one dwelling on the shore, engaged in commerce, is particularly anxious to merit or receive their displeasure. When I landed at New Sestros, I promptly supplied myself with a little fleet of these amphibious natives; and, as the news of my liberality spread north and south along the shore, the number of my retainers increased with rapidity. Indeed, in six months a couple of rival towns,--one of Kroos and the other of Fishes,--hailed me severally as their "Commodore" and "Consul." With such auxiliaries constantly at hand, I rarely feared the surf when the shipment of slaves was necessary. At Gallinas, under the immediate eye of Don Pedro, the most elaborate care was taken to secure an ample supply of these people and their boats, and I doubt not that the multitude employed in the establishment's prime, could, at a favorable moment, despatch at least a thousand slaves within the space of four hours. Yet I have heard from Kroomen at Gallinas the most harrowing tales of disaster connected with the shipment of negroes from that perilous bar. Even in the dry season, the mouth of this river is frequently dangerous, and, with all the adroitness they could display, the Kroos could not save boat-load after boat-load from becoming food for the ravenous sharks! * * * * * I was quite afloat at New Sestros on the tide of success, when the cruiser that for a while had annoyed me with a blockade, became short of food, and was obliged to bear away for Sierra Leone. My well paid spy--a Krooman who had been employed by the cruiser--soon apprised me of the brig's departure and its cause; so that in an hour the beach was in a bustle, despatching a swift canoe to Gallinas with a message to Don Pedro:--"The coast is clear:--send me a vessel:--relieve my plethora!" Forty-eight hours were hardly over when the twin masts of a clipper brig were seen scraping along the edge of the horizon, with the well-known signal for "embarkation." I was undoubtedly prepared to welcome my guest, for Kroos, Fishes, Bushmen, Bassas and all, had been alert since daybreak, ready to hail the craft and receive their fees. There had been a general embargo on all sea-going folks for a day before, so that there was not a fish to be had for love or money in the settlement. Minute precautions like these are absolutely necessary for all prudent slavers, for it was likely that the cruiser kept a spy in her pay among _my_ people, as well as I did among _hers_! All, therefore, was exceedingly comfortable, so far as ordinary judgment could foresee; but alas! the moon was full, and the African surf at such periods is fearfully terrific. As I listened from my piazza or gazed from my _bellevue_, it roared on the strand like the charge of interminable cavalry. My watchful enemy had been several days absent, and I expected her return from hour to hour. The shipment, though extremely perilous, was, therefore indispensable; and four short hours of daylight alone remained to complete it. I saw the risk, yet, taking counsel with the head Kroo and Fishmen, I persuaded them, under the provocation of triple reward, to attempt the enterprise with the smallest skiffs and stoutest rowers, while a band of lusty youths stood by to plunge in whenever the breakers capsized a canoe. We began with females, as the most difficult cargo for embarkation, and seventy reached the brig safely. Then followed the stronger sex; but by this time a sea-breeze set in from the south-west like a young gale, and driving the rollers with greater rapidity, upset almost every alternate cockleshell set adrift with its living freight. It was fortunate that our sharks happened that evening to be on a frolic elsewhere, so that negro after negro was rescued from the brine, though the sun was rapidly sinking when but two thirds of my slaves were safely shipped. I ran up and down the beach, in a fever of anxiety, shouting, encouraging, coaxing, appealing, and _refreshing_ the boatmen and swimmers; but as the gangs came ashore, they sank exhausted on the beach, refusing to stir. Rum, which hitherto roused them like electricity, was now powerless. Powder they did not want, nor muskets, nor ordinary trade stuff, for they never engaged in kidnapping or slave wars. As night approached the wind increased. _There_ was the brig with topsails aback, signalling impatiently for despatch; but never was luckless factor more at fault! I was on the eve of giving up in despair, when a bright flash brought to recollection a quantity of Venetian beads of mock coral which I had stowed in my chest. They happened, at that moment, to be the rage among the girls of our beach, and were of course irresistible keys to the heart of every belle. Now the smile of a lip has the same magical power in Africa as elsewhere; and the offer of a coral bunch for each head embarked, brought all the dames and damsels of Sestros to my aid. Such a shower of chatter was never heard out of a canary cage. Mothers, sisters, daughters, wives, sweethearts, took charge of the embarkation by coaxing or commanding their respective gentlemen; and, before the sun's rim dipped below the horizon, a few strands of false coral, or the kiss of a negro wench, sent one hundred more of the Africans into Spanish slavery. But this effort exhausted my people. The charm of beads and beauty was over: Three slaves found a tomb in the sharks, or a grave in the deep, while the brig took flight in the darkness without the remaining one hundred and twenty I had designed for her hold. Next morning the cruiser loomed once more in the offing, and, in a fit of impetuous benevolence, I hurried a Krooman aboard, with the offer of my compliments, and a _sincere_ hope that I could render some service! CHAPTER LVI. About this time, a Spanish vessel from the Canaries, laden with fruit, the greater part of which had been sold at Goree, Sierra Leone, Gallinas, and Cape Mesurado, dropped anchor opposite my little roadstead with a letter from Blanco. The Spaniard had been chartered by the Don to bring from the Grain Coast a cargo of rice, which he was to collect under my instructions. My _barracoons_ happened to be just then pretty bare, and as the season did not require my presence in the factory for trade, it struck me that I could not pass a few weeks more agreeably, and ventilate my jaded faculties more satisfactorily, than by throwing my carpet-bag on the Brilliant, and purchasing the cargo myself. In the prosecution of this little adventure, I called along the coast with cash at several English factories, where I obtained rice; and on my return anchored off the river to purchase sea-stores. Here I found Governor Findley, chief of the colony, laboring under a protracted illness which refused yielding to medicine, but might, probably, be relieved by a voyage, even of a few days, in the pure air of old Neptune. Slaver as I was, I contrived never to omit a civility to gentlemen on the coast of Africa; and I confess I was proud of the honorable service, when Governor Findley accepted the Brilliant for a trip along the coast. He proposed visiting Monrovia and Bassa; and after landing at some port in that quarter to await the captain's return from windward. I fanned along the coast as slowly as I could, to give the Governor every possible chance to recruit his enervated frame by change of air; but, as I looked in at New Sestros in passing, I found three trading vessels with cargoes of merchandise to my consignment, so that I was obliged to abandon my trip and return to business. I left the Governor, however, in excellent hands, and directed the captain to land him at Bassa, await his pleasure three days, and finally, to bear him to Monrovia, the last place he desired visiting. The Rio San Juan or Grand Bassa, is only fourteen miles north-west of New Sestros, yet it was near nightfall when the Brilliant approached the river landing. The Spaniard advised his guest not to disembark till next morning, but the Governor was so restless and anxious about delay, that he declined our captain's counsel, and went ashore at a native town, with the design of crossing on foot the two miles of beach to the American settlement. As Findley went over the Brilliant's side into the Krooman's canoe, the jingle of silver was heard in his pocket; and warning was given him either to hide his money or leave it on board. But the Governor smiled at the caution, and disregarding it entirely, threw himself into the African skiff. Night fell. The curtain of darkness dropped over the coast and sea. Twice the sun rose and set without word from the Governor. At last, my delayed mariner became impatient if not anxious, and despatched one of my servants who spoke English, in search of Mr. Findley at the American Settlement. _No one had seen or heard of him!_ But, hurrying homeward from his fruitless errand, my boy followed the winding beach, and half way to the vessel found a human body, its head gashed with a deep wound, floating and beating against the rocks. He could not recognize the features of the battered face; but the well-remembered garments left no doubt on the servant's mind that the corpse was Findley's. The frightful story was received with dismay on the Brilliant, whose captain, unfamiliar with the coast and its people, hesitated to land, with the risk of treachery or ambush, even to give a grave to the dust of his wretched passenger. In this dilemma he thought best to run the fourteen miles to New Sestros, where he might counsel with me before venturing ashore. Whatever personal anxiety may have flashed athwart my mind when I heard of the death of a colonial governor while enjoying the hospitality of myself,--a slaver,--the thought vanished as quickly as it was conceived. In an instant I was busy with detection and revenge. It happened that the three captains had already landed the cargoes to my consignment, so that their empty vessels were lying at anchor in the roads, and the officers ready to aid me in any enterprise I deemed feasible. My colleagues were from three nations:--one was a Spaniard, another a Portuguese, and the last American. Next morning I was early aboard the Spaniard, and sending for the Portuguese skipper, we assembled the crew. I dwelt earnestly and heartily on the insult the Castilian flag had received by the murder of an important personage while protected by its folds. I demonstrated the necessity there was for prompt chastisement of the brutal crime, and concluded by informing the crowd, that their captains had resolved to aid me in vindicating our banner. When I ventured to hope that _the men_ would not hesitate to back their officers, a general shout went up that they were ready to land and punish the negroes. As soon as the enterprise was known on board the American, her captain insisted on volunteering in the expedition; and by noon, our little squadron was under way, with fifty muskets in the cabins. The plan I roughly proposed, was, under the menacing appearance of this force, to demand the murderer or murderers of Governor Findley, and to execute them, either on his grave, or the spot where his corpse was found. Failing in this, I intended to land portions of the crews, and destroy the towns nearest the theatre of the tragedy. The sun was still an hour or more high, when we sailed in line past the native towns along the fatal beach, and displayed our flags and pennants. Off the Rio San Joan, we tacked in man-of-war fashion, and returning southward, each vessel took post opposite a different town as if to command it. While I had been planning and executing these manoeuvres, the colonial settlers had heard of the catastrophe, and found poor Findley's mangled corpse. At the moment of our arrival off the river's mouth, an anxious council of resolute men was discussing the best means of chastising the savages. When my servant inquired for the governor he had spoken of him as a passenger in the Spanish craft, so that the parade of our vessels alongshore and in front of the native towns, betokened, they thought, co-operation on the part of the Mongo of New Sestros. Accordingly, we had not been long at anchor before Governor Johnson despatched a Krooman to know whether I was aboard a friendly squadron; and, if so, he trusted I would land at once, and unite with his forces in the intended punishment. In the interval, however, the cunning savages who soon found out that we had no cannons, flocked to the beach, and as they were beyond musket shot, insulted us by gestures, and defied a battle. Of course no movement was made against the blacks that night, but it was agreed in council at the American settlement, that the expedition, supported by a field piece, should advance next day by the beach, where I could reinforce it with my seamen a short distance from the towns. Punctual to the moment, the colonial flag, with drum and fife, appeared on the sea-shore at nine in the morning, followed by some forty armed men, dragging their cannon. Five boats, filled with sailors instantly left our vessels to support the attack, and, by this time, the colonists had reached a massive rock which blocked the beach like a bulwark, and was already possessed by the natives. My position, in flank, made my force most valuable in dislodging the foe, and of course I hastened my oars to open the passage. As I was altogether ignorant of the numbers that might be hidden and lurking in the dense jungle that was not more than fifty feet from the water's edge, I kept my men afloat within musket shot, and, with a few rounds of ball cartridge purged the rock of its defenders, though but a single savage was mortally wounded. Upon this, the colonists advanced to the vacant bulwark, and were joined by our reinforcement. Wheeler, who commanded the Americans, proposed that we should march in a compact body to the towns, and give battle to the blacks if they held out in their dwellings. But his plan was not executed, for, before we reached the negro huts, we were assailed from the bushes and jungle. Their object was to keep hidden within the dense underwood; to shoot and run; while we, entirely exposed on the ocean shore, were obliged to remain altogether on the defensive by dodging the balls, or to fire at the smoke of an unseen enemy. Occasionally, large numbers of the savages would appear at a distance beyond musket range, and tossing their guns and lances, or brandishing their cutlasses, would present their naked limbs to our gaze, slap their shining flanks, and disappear! But this diverting exercise was not repeated very often. A sturdy colonist, named Bear, who carried a long and heavy old-fashioned _rifle_, took rest on my shoulder, and, when the next party of annoying jokers displayed their personal charms, laid its leader in the dust by a Yankee ball. Our cannon and blunderbusses were next brought into play to scour the jungle and expel the marksmen, who, confident in the security of their impervious screen, began to fire among us with more precision than was desirable. A Krooman of our party was killed, and a colonist severely wounded. Small sections of our two commands advanced at a run, and fired a volley into the bushes, while the main body of the expedition hastened along the beach towards the towns. By repeating this process several times, we were enabled, without further loss, to reach the first settlement. Here, of course, we expected to find the savages arrayed in force to defend their roof-trees, but when we entered the place cautiously, and crept to the first dwelling in the outskirt, it was empty. So with the second, third, fourth,--until we overran the whole settlement and found it utterly deserted;--its furniture, stock, implements, and even _doors_ carried off by the deliberate fugitives. The guardian _fetiche_ was alone left to protect their abandoned hovels. But the superstitious charm did not save them. The brand was lighted; and, in an hour, five of these bamboo confederacies were given to the flames. We discovered while approaching the towns, that our assault had made so serious an inroad on the slim supply of ammunition, that it was deemed advisable to send a messenger to the colony for a reinforcement. By neglect or mishap, the powder and ball never reached us; so that when the towns were destroyed, no one dreamed of penetrating the forest to unearth its vermin with the remnant of cartridges in our chest and boxes. I never was able to discover the cause of this unpardonable neglect, or the officer who permitted it to occur in such an exigency; but it was forthwith deemed advisable to waste no time in retreating after our partial revenge. Till now, the Africans had kept strictly on the defensive, but when they saw our faces turned towards the beach, or colony, every bush and thicket became alive again with aggressive foes. For a while, the cannon kept them at bay, but its grape soon gave out; and, while I was in the act of superintending a fair division of the remaining ball cartridges, I was shot in the right foot with an iron slug. At the moment of injury I scarcely felt the wound, and did not halt, but, as I trudged along in the sand and salt water, my wound grew painful, and the loss of blood which tracked my steps, soon obliged me to seek refuge in the canoe of my Kroomen. The sight of my bleeding body borne to the skiff, was hailed with shouts and gestures of joy and contempt by the savages. As I crossed the last breaker and dropped into smooth water, my eyes reverted to the beach, where I heard the exultant war-drum and war bells, while the colonists were beheld in full flight, leaving their artillery in the hands of our foe! It was subsequently reported that the commander of the party had been panic struck by the perilous aspect of affairs, and ordered the precipitate and fatal retreat, which that very night emboldened the negroes to revenge the loss of their towns by the conflagration of Bassa-Cove. Next day, my own men, and the volunteers from our Spanish, Portuguese and American vessels, were sent on board, eight of them bearing marks of the fray, which fortunately proved neither fatal nor dangerous. The shameful flight of my comrades not only gave heart to the blacks, but spread its cowardly panic among the resident colonists. The settlement, they told me, was in danger of attack, and although my wound and the disaster both contributed to excite me against the fugitives, I did not quit the San Juan without reinforcing Governor Johnson with twenty muskets and some kegs of powder. I have dwelt rather tediously perhaps on this sad occurrence--but I have a reason. Governor Findley's memory was, at this time, much vilified on the coast, because that functionary had accepted the boon of a passage in the Brilliant, which was falsely declared to be "a Spanish slaver." There were some among the overrighteous who even went so far as to proclaim his death "a judgment for venturing on the deck of such a vessel!" As no one took the trouble to investigate the facts and contradict the malicious lie, I have thought it but justice to tell the entire story, and exculpate a gentleman who met a terrible death in the bold prosecution of his duty. CHAPTER LVII. I took the earliest opportunity to apprise Don Pedro Blanco of the mishap that had befallen his factor's limb, so that I might receive the prompt aid of an additional clerk to attend the more active part of our business. Don Pedro's answer was extremely characteristic. The letter opened with a draft for five hundred dollars, which he authorized me to bestow on the widow and orphans of Governor Findley, if he left a family. The slaver of Gallinas then proceeded to comment upon my Quixotic expedition; and, in gentle terms, intimated a decided censure for my immature attempt to chastise the negroes. He did not disapprove my _motives_; but considered any revengeful assault on the natives unwise, unless every precaution had previously been taken to insure complete success. Don Pedro hoped that, henceforth, I would take things more coolly, so as not to hazard either my life or his property; and concluded the epistle by superscribing it: "To "_Señor_ POWDER, "_at his Magazine_, "NEW SESTROS." * * * * * The slug that struck the upper part of my foot, near the ankle joint, tore my flesh and tendons with a painfully dangerous wound, which, for nine months, kept me a prisoner on crutches. During the long and wearying confinement which almost broke my restless heart, I had little to do save to superintend the general fortunes of our factory. Now and then, an incident occurred to relieve the monotony of my sick chair, and make me forget, for a moment, the pangs of my crippled limb. One of these events flashes across my memory as I write, in the shape of a letter which was mysteriously delivered at my landing by a coaster, and came from poor Joseph, my ancient partner on the Rio Pongo. Coomba's spouse was in trouble! and the ungrateful scamp, though forgetful of my own appeals from the _Chateau of Brest_, did not hesitate to claim my brotherly aid. Captured in a Spanish slaver, and compromised beyond salvation, Joseph had been taken into Sierra Leone, where he was now under sentence of transportation. The letter hinted that a liberal sum might purchase his escape, even from the tenacious jaws of the British lion; and when I thought of old times, the laughable marriage ceremony, and the merry hours we enjoyed at Kambia, I forgave his neglect. A draft on Don Pedro was readily cashed at Sierra Leone, notwithstanding the paymaster was a slaver and the jurisdiction that of St. George and his Cross. The transaction, of course, was "purely commercial," and, therefore, sinless; so that, in less than a month, Joseph and the bribed turnkey were on their way to the Rio Pongo. By this time the sub-factory of New Sestros was somewhat renowned in Cuba and Porto Rico. Our dealings with commanders, the character of my cargoes, and the rapidity with which I despatched a customer and his craft were proverbial in the islands. Indeed, the third year of my lodgment had not rolled over, before the slave-demand was so great, that in spite of rum, cottons, muskets, powder, kidnapping and Prince Freeman's wars, the country could not supply our demand. To aid New Sestros, I had established several _nurseries_, or junior factories, at Little Bassa and Digby; points a few miles from the limits of Liberia. These "chapels of ease" furnished my parent _barracoons_ with young and small negroes, mostly kidnapped, I suppose, in the neighborhood of the beach. When I was perfectly cured of the injury I sustained in my first philanthropic fight, I loaded my spacious cutter with a choice collection of trade-goods, and set sail one fine morning for this outpost at Digby. I designed, also, if advisable, to erect another receiving _barracoon_ under the lee of Cape Mount. But my call at Digby was unsatisfactory. The pens were vacant, and our merchandise squandered _on credit_. This put me in a very uncomfortable passion, which would have rendered an interview between "Mr. Powder" and his agent any thing but pleasant or profitable, had that personage been at his post. Fortunately, however, for both of us, he was abroad carousing with "a _king_;" so that I refused landing a single yard of merchandise, and hoisted sail for the next village. There I transacted business in regular "ship-shape." Our rum was plenteously distributed and established an _entente cordiale_ which would have charmed a diplomatist at his first dinner in a new capital. The naked blackguards flocked round me like crows, and I clothed their loins in parti-colored calicoes that enriched them with a plumage worthy of parrots. I was the prince of good fellows in "every body's" opinion; and, in five days, nineteen newly-"_conveyed_" darkies were exchanged for London muskets, Yankee grog, and Manchester cottons! My cutter, though but twenty-seven feet long, was large enough to stow my gang, considering that the voyage was short, and the slaves but boys and girls; so I turned my prow homeward with contented spirit and promising skies. Yet, before night, all was changed. Wind and sea rose together. The sun sank in a long streak of blood. After a while, it rained in terrible squalls; till, finally, darkness caught me in a perfect gale. So high was the surf and so shelterless the coast, that it became utterly impossible to make a lee of any headland where we might ride out the storm in safety. Our best hope was in the cutter's ability to keep the open sea without swamping; and, accordingly, under the merest patch of sail, I coasted the perilous breakers, guided by their roar, till day-dawn. But, when the sun lifted over the horizon,--peering for an instant through a rent in the storm-cloud, and then disappearing behind the gray vapor,--I saw at once that the coast offered no chance of landing our blacks at some friendly town. Every where the bellowing shore was lashed by surf, impracticable even for the boats and skill of Kroomen. On I dashed, therefore, driving and almost burying the cutter, with loosened reef, till we came opposite Monrovia; where, safe in the absence of cruisers, I crept at dark under the lee of the cape, veiling my cargo with our useless sails. Sunset "killed the wind," enabling us to be off again at dawn; yet hardly were we clear of the cape, when both gale and current freshened from the old quarter, holding us completely in check. Nevertheless, I kept at sea till evening, and then sneaked back to my protecting anchorage. By this time, my people and slaves were well-nigh famished, for their sole food had been a scant allowance of raw _cassava_. Anxiety, toil, rain, and drenching spray, broke their spirits. The blacks, from the hot interior, and now for the first time off their mother earth, suffered not only from the inclement weather, but groaned with the terrible pangs of sea-sickness. I resolved, therefore, if possible, to refresh the drooping gang by a hot meal; and, beneath the shelter of a tarpaulin, contrived to cook a mess of rice. Warm food comforted us astonishingly; but, alas! the next day was a picture of the past! A slave--cramped and smothered amid the crowd that soaked so long in the salt water at our boat's bottom--died during the darkness. Next morning, the same low, leaden, coffin-lid sky, hung like a pall over sea and shore. Wind in terrific blasts, and rain in deluging squalls, howled and beat on us. Come what might, I resolved not to stir! All day I kept my people beneath the sails, with orders to move their limbs as much as possible, in order to overcome the benumbing effect of moisture and packed confinement. The incessant drenching from sea and sky to which they had been so long subjected, chilled their slackened circulation to such a degree, that death from torpor seemed rapidly supervening. Motion, motion, motion, was my constant command; but I hoarded my alcohol for the last resource. I saw that no time was to be lost, and that nothing but a bold encounter of hazard would save either lives or property. Before dark my mind was made up as to the enterprise. I would land in the neighborhood of the colony, and cross its territory during the shadow of night! I do not suppose that the process by which I threw my stiffened crew on the beach, and revived them with copious draughts of brandy, would interest the reader; _but midnight did not strike before my cargo, under the escort of Kroo guides, was boldly marched through the colonial town, and safe on its way to New Sestros!_ Fortunately for my dare-devil adventure, the tropical rain poured down in ceaseless torrents, compelling the unsuspicious colonists to keep beneath their roofs. Indeed, no one dreamed of a forced march by human beings on that dreadful night of tempest, else it might have gone hard had I been detected in the desecration of colonial soil. Still I was prepared for all emergencies. I never went abroad without the two great keys of Africa--gold and fire-arms; and had it been my lot to encounter a colonist, he would either have learned the value of silence, or have been carried along, under the muzzle of a pistol, till the gang was in safety. While it was still dark, I left the caravan advancing by an interior path to Little Bassa, where one of my branches could furnish it with necessaries to cross the other colony of Bassa San Juan, so as to reach my homestead in the course of three days. Meanwhile I retraced my way to Monrovia, and, reaching it by sunrise, satisfied the amiable colonists that I had just taken shelter in their harbor, and was fresh from my dripping cutter. It is very likely that no one in the colony to the present day knows the true story of this adventure, or would believe it unless _confessed_ by me. It was often my fate in Africa, and elsewhere, to hear gossips declare that colonists were no better than others who dwelt amid coast temptations, and that they were sometimes even willing to back a certain Don Theodore Canot, if not absolutely to share his slave-trade! I never thought it prudent to exculpate those honorable emigrants who were consolidating the first colonial lodgments from the United States; for I believed that _my_ denial would only add sarcastic venom to the scandal of vilifiers. But now that my African career is over, and the slave-trade a mere tradition in the neighborhood of Liberia, I may assure the friends of colonization, that, in all my negro traffic, no American settler gave assistance or furnished merchandise which I could not have obtained at the most loyal establishments of Britain or France. I think it will be granted by unprejudiced people, that the colonist who sold me a few pieces of cloth, lodged me in travelling, or gave me his labor for my flesh-colored gold, participated no more in the African slave-trade than the European or American supercargo who sold assorted cargoes, selected with the most deliberate judgment in London, Paris, Boston, New York, Philadelphia, or Baltimore, expressly to suit the well-known cupidity of my warriors, kidnappers, and slave merchants. Commerce is sometimes an adroit metaphysican--but a bad moralist! CHAPTER LVIII. It was my invariable custom whenever a vessel made her appearance in the roadstead of New Sestros, to despatch my canoe with "Captain Canot's compliments;" nor did I omit this graceful courtesy when his Britannic Majesty's cruisers did me the honor of halting in my neighborhood to watch or destroy my operations. At such times I commonly increased the politeness by an offer of my services, and a tender of provisions, or of any commodity the country could supply! I remember an interesting rencounter of this sort with the officers of the brig of war Bonito. My note was forwarded by a trusty Krooman, even before her sails were furled, but the courteous offer was respectfully declined "_for the present_." The captain availed himself, however, of my messenger's return, to announce that the "commodore in command of the African squadron had specially deputed the Bonito _to blockade_ New Sestros, for which purpose she was provisioned for _six months_, and ordered not to budge from her anchorage till relieved by a cruiser!" This formidable announcement was, of course, intended to strike me with awe. The captain hoped in conclusion, that I would see the folly of prosecuting my abominable traffic in the face of such a disastrous _vis à vis_; nor could he refrain from intimating his surprise that a man of my reputed character and ability, would consent to manacle and starve the unfortunate negroes who were now suffering in my _barracoons_. I saw at once from this combined attack of fear and flattery, backed by blockade, that his majesty's officer had either been grossly misinformed, or believed that a scarcity of rice prevailed in my establishment as well as elsewhere along the coast. The suspicion of _starving blacks in chains_, was not only pathetic but mortifying! It was part of the sentimental drapery of British reports and despatches, to which I became accustomed in Africa. I did not retort upon my dashing captain with a sneer at his ancestors who had taught the traffic to Spaniards, yet I resolved not to let his official communications reach the British admiralty with a fanciful tale about _my_ barracoons and starvation. Accordingly, without more ado, I sent a second _billet_ to the Bonito, desiring her captain or any of her officers to visit New Sestros, and ascertain personally the condition of my establishment. Strange to tell, my invitation was accepted; and at noon a boat with a white flag, appeared on the edge of the surf, conveying two officers to my beach. The surgeon and first lieutenant were my visitors. I welcomed them most cordially to my cottage, and as soon as the customary refreshments were despatched, proposed a glance at the dreadful _barracoons_. As well as I now remember, there must have been at least five hundred slaves in my two pens, sleek in flesh, happy in looks, and ready for the first customer who could outwit the cruiser. I quietly despatched a notice of our advent to the _barracooniers_, with directions as to their conduct, so that the moment my naval friends entered the stanch inclosures, full two hundred and fifty human beings, in each, rose to their feet and saluted the strangers with long and reiterated clapping. This sudden and surprising demonstration somewhat alarmed my guests at its outburst, and made them retreat a pace towards the door,--perhaps in fear of treachery;--but when they saw the smiling faces and heard the pleased chatter of my people, they soon came forward to learn that the compliment was worth a customary _demijohn of rum_. The adventure was a fortunate one for the reputation of New Sestros, Don Pedro my employer, and Don Téodor, his clerk. Our establishment happened just then to be at a summit of material comfort rarely exceeded or even reached by others. My pens were full of slaves; my granary, of rice; my stores, of merchandise. From house to house,--from hut to hut,--the sailor and saw-bones wandered with expressions of perfect admiration, till the hour for dinner approached. I ordered the meal to be administered with minute attention to all our usual ceremonies. The washing, singing, distribution of food, beating time, and all the prandial _etceteras_ of comfort, were performed with the utmost precision and cleanliness. They could not believe that such was the ordinary routine of slave life in _barracoons_, but ventured to hint that I must have got up the drama for their special diversion, and that it was impossible for such to be the ordinary drill and demeanor of Africans. Our dapper little surgeon, with almost dissective inquisitiveness, pried into every nook and corner; and at length reached the slave kitchen, where a caldron was full and bubbling with the most delicious rice. Hard by stood a pot, simmering with meat and soup, and in an instant the doctor had a morsel between his fingers and brought his companion to follow his example. Now, in sober truth, this was no casual display got up for effect, but the common routine of an establishment conducted with prudent foresight, for the profit of its owners as well as the comfort of our people. And yet, such was the fanatical prepossession of these Englishmen, whose idea of Spanish _factories_ and _barracoons_ was formed exclusively from exaggerated reports, that I could not satisfy them of my truth till I produced our journal, in which I noted minutely every item of daily expenditure. It must be understood, however, that it was not my habit to give the slaves _meat_ every day of the week. Such a diet would not be prudent, because it is not habitual with the majority of negroes. Two bullocks were slaughtered each week for the use of my _factory_, while the hide, head, blood, feet, neck, tail, and entrails, were appropriated for broth in the _barracoons_. It happened that my visitors arrived on the customary day of our butchering. * * * * * A stinging appetite was the natural result of our review, and while the naval guests were whetting it still more, I took the opportunity to slip out of my verandah with orders for our harbor-pilot to report the beach "impracticable for boats,"--a report which no prudent sailor on the coast ever disregards. Meanwhile, I despatched a Krooman with a note to the Bonito's captain, notifying that personage of the marine hazard that prevented his officers' immediate return, and fearing they might even find it necessary to tarry over night. This little _ruse_ was an _impromptu_ device to detain my inspectors, and make us better acquainted over the African _cuisine_, which, by this time was smoking in tureens and dishes flanked by spirited sentinels, in black uniform, of claret and eau de vie. Our dinner-chat was African all over: slavery, cruisers, prize-money, captures, war, negro-trade, and philanthropy! The surgeon melted enough under the blaze of the bottle to admit, _as a philosopher_, that Cuffee was happier in the hands of white men than of black, and that he would even support the institution if it could be carried on with a little more humanity and less bloodshed. The lieutenant saw nothing, even through the "Spiritual Medium" of our flagons, save prize-money and obedience to the Admiral; while Don Téodor became rather tart on the service, and confessed that his incredulity of British philanthropy would never cease till England abandoned her Indian wars, her opium smuggling, and her persecution of the Irish! In truth, these loyal subjects of the King, and the Spanish slaver became most excellent friends before bed-time, and ended the evening by a visit to Prince Freeman, who forthwith got up a negro dance and jollification for our special entertainment. I have not much recollection after the end of this savage frolic till my "look-out" knocked at the door with the news that our brig was firing for her officers, while a suspicious sail flitted along the horizon. All good sailors sleep with one eye and ear open, so that in a twinkling the lieutenant was afoot making for the beach, and calling for the surgeon to follow. "A canoe! a canoe! a canoe!" shouted the gallant blade, while he ran to and fro on the edge of the surf, beholding signal after signal from his vessel. But alas! for the British navy,--out of all the Kroo spectators not one stirred hand or foot for the royal officer. Next came the jingle of dollars, and the offer of twenty to the boatmen who would launch their skiff and put them on board. "No savez! No savez! ax Commodore! ax Consul!" "Curse your Commodore and Consul!" yelled the Lieutenant, as the surgeon came up with the vociferous group: "put us aboard and be paid, or I'll----?" "Stop, stop!" interposed my pacific saw-bones, "no swearing and no threats, lieutenant. One's just as useless as the other. First of all, the Bonito's off about her business;--and next, my dear fellow, the chase she's after is one of Canot's squadron, and, of course, there's an embargo on every canoe along this beach! The Commodore's altogether _too cute_, as the Yankees say, to reinforce his enemy with officers!" During this charming little episode of my _blockade_, I was aloft in my bellevieu, watching the progress of the chase; and as both vessels kept steadily northward they soon disappeared behind the land. By this time it was near breakfast, and, with a good appetite, I descended to the verandah, with as unconcerned an air as if nothing had occurred beyond the ordinary routine of factory life. But, not so, alas! my knight of the single epaulette. "This is a pretty business, sir;" said the lieutenant, fixing a look on me which was designed to annihilate; striding up and down the piazza, "a _very_ pretty business, I repeat! Pray, Commodore, Consul, Don, Señor, Mister, Monsieur, Theodore Canot, or whatever the devil else you please to call yourself, how long do you intend to keep British officers prisoners in your infernal slave den?" Now it is very likely that some years before, or if I had not contrived the plot of this little naval _contre temps_, I might have burst forth in a beautiful rage, and given my petulant and foiled visitor a specimen of my Spanish vocabulary, which would not have rested pleasantly in the memory of either party. But as _he_ warmed _I_ cooled. His rage, in fact, was a fragment of my practical satire, and I took special delight in beholding the contortions caused by my physic. "Sit down, sit down, lieutenant!" returned I very composedly, "we're about to have coffee, and you are my _guest_. Nothing, lieutenant, ever permits me to neglect the duties of hospitality in such an out-of-the-way and solitary place as Africa. Sit down, doctor! Calm yourselves, gentlemen. Take example by _me_! Your Bonito is probably playing the devil with one of Don Pedro's craft by this time; but that don't put me out of temper, or _make me unmannerly_ to gentlemen who honor my bamboo hut with their presence!" I laid peculiar stress, by way of accent, on the word "unmannerly," and in a moment I saw the field was in my hands. "Yes, gentlemen," continued I, "I comprehend very well both your duty and responsibility; but, now that I see you are calmer, have the kindness to say _in what_ I am to blame? Did you not come here to 'blockade' New Sestros, with a brig and provisions for half a year? And do I prevent your embarkation, if you can find any Krooman willing to take you on board? Nay, did either of you apprise me, as is customary when folks go visiting, that you designed leaving my quarters at so early an hour as to afford me the pleasure of seeing every thing in order for your accommodation? Come now, my good fellows, New Sestros is _my_ flagship, as the Bonito is _yours_! No body stirs from this beach without the wink from its Commodore; and I shall be much surprised to hear such excellent disciplinarians dispute the propriety of my rule. Nevertheless, as you feel anxious to be gone on an independent cruise, you shall be furnished with a canoe _instanter_!" "An offer," interjected the surgeon, "which it would be d----d nonsense to accept! Have done with your infernal sneering, Don Téodor; strike your flag, Mr. Lieutenant; and let the darkies bring in the breakfast!" I have narrated this little anecdote to show that Spanish slavers sometimes ventured to have a little fun with the British lion, and that when we got him on his haunches, his month full of beef and his fore paws in air, he was by no means the unamiable beast he is described to be, when, in company with the _unicorn_, he goes "a-fighting for the crown!" CHAPTER LIX. The balance of life vibrated considerably on the African coast. Sometimes Mr. Bull's scale ascended and sometimes the Slaver's. It was now the turn of the former to be exalted for a while by way of revenge for my forced hospitality. Our friends of the Bonito held on with provoking pertinacity in front of my factory, so that I was troubled but little with company from Cuba for several months. At last, however, it became necessary that I should visit a neighboring colony for supplies, and I took advantage of a Russian trader along the coast to effect my purpose. But when we were within sight of our destination, a British cruiser brought us to and visited the "Galopsik." As her papers were in order, and the vessel altogether untainted, I took it for granted that Lieutenant Hill would make a short stay and be off to his "Saracen." Yet, a certain "slave deck," and an unusual quantity of water-casks, aroused the officer's suspicions, so that instead of heading for our port, we were unceremoniously favored with a prize crew, and ordered to Sierra Leone! I did not venture to protest against these movements, inasmuch as I had no interest whatever in the craft, but I ventured to suggest that "as I was only a _passenger_, there could be no objection to my landing before the new voyage was commenced." "By no means, sir," was the prompt reply, "_your presence is a material fact for the condemnation of the vessel_!" Indeed, I soon found out that I was recognized by some of the Kroomen on the cruiser, and my unlucky reputation was a hole in the bottom of our Russian craft! At Sierra Leone matters became worse. The Court did not venture to condemn the Russian, but resolved on ordering her to England; and when I re-stated my reasonable appeal for release, I was told that I must accompany the vessel on her visit to Great Britain. This arbitrary decision of our captors sadly disconcerted my plans. A voyage to England would ruin New Sestros. My _barracoons_ were alive with blacks, but I had not a month's provisions in my stores. The clerk, temporarily in charge, was altogether unfit to conduct a factory during a prolonged absence,--and all my personal property, as well as Don Pedro's, was at the hazard of his judgment during a period of considerable difficulty. I resolved to take "French leave." Three men-of-war were anchored astern and on our bows. No boats were allowed to approach us from shore; at night two marines and four sailors paraded the deck, so that it was a thing of some peril to dream of escape in the face of such Arguses. Yet there was no help for it. I could not afford an Admiralty or Chancery suit in England, while my _barracoons_ were foodless in Africa. No one had been removed from the Russian since her seizure, nor were we denied liberty of motion and intercourse so long as suspicion had not ripened into legal condemnation. The captain, by birth a Spaniard, was an old acquaintance, while the steward and boatswain were good fellows who professed willingness to aid me in any exploit I might devise for my liberty. I hit upon the plan of a regular carouse; and at once decided that my Spanish skipper was bound to keep his birthday with commendable merriment and abundant grog. There was to be no delay; one day was as good as another for his festival, while all that we needed, was time enough to obtain the requisite supplies of food and fluid. This was soon accomplished, and the "fatted pig" slaughtered for the feast. As I never left home unprovided with gold, means were not wanting to stock our pantry with champagne as well as brandy. Every thing went off to a charm. We fed like gluttons and drank like old-fashioned squires. Bumper after bumper was quaffed to the captain. Little by little, the infection spread, as it always does, from the wardroom to the cabin, and "goodfellowship" was the watchword of the night. Invitations were given and accepted by our prize crew. Bull and the Lion again relaxed under the spell of beef and brandy, so that by sundown every lip had tasted our _eau de vie_, and watered for more. The "first watch" found every soul on board, with the exception of our corporal of marines, as happy as lords. This corporal was a regular "character;" and, from the first, had been feared as our stumbling-block. He was a perfect martinet; a prim, precise, black-stock'd, military, Miss Nancy. He neither ate nor drank, neither talked nor smiled, but paraded the deck with a grim air of iron severity, as if resolved to preserve his own "discipline" if he could not control that of any one else. I doubt very much whether her Majesty has in her service a more dutiful loyalist than Corporal Blunt, if that excellent functionary has not succumbed to African malaria. I hoped that something would occur to melt the corporal's heart during the evening, and had prepared a little vial in my pocket, which, at least, would have given him a stirless nap of twenty-four hours. But nothing broke the charm of his spell-bound sobriety. There he marched, to and fro, regular as a drum tap, hour after hour, stiff and inexorable as a ramrod! But who, after the fall of Corporal Blunt, shall declare that there is a living man free from the lures of betrayal? And yet, he only surrendered to an enemy in disguise! "God bless me, corporal," said our prize lieutenant, "in the name of all that's damnable, why don't you let out a reef or two from those solemn cheeks of yours, and drink a bumper to Captain Gaspard and Don Téodor? You ain't afraid of _cider_, are you?" "_Cider_, captain?" said the corporal, advancing to the front and throwing up his hand with a military salute. "Cider and be d----d to you!" returned the lieutenant. "Cider--of course, corporal; what other sort of pop can starving wretches like us drink in Sary-loney?" "Well, lieutenant," said the corporal, "if so be as how them fizzing bottles which yonder Spanish gentleman is a-pourin' down is _only cider_; and if cider ain't agin rules after 'eight bells;' and if you, lieutenant, orders me to handle my glass,--I don't see what right I have to disobey the orders of my superior!" "Oh! blast your sermon and provisos," interjected the lieutenant, filling a tumbler and handing it to the corporal, who drained it at a draught. In a moment the empty glass was returned to the lieutenant, who, instead of receiving it from the subaltern, refilled the tumbler. "Oh, I'm sure I'm a thousand times obliged, lieutenant," said Blunt, with his left hand to his cap, "a thousand, thousand times, lieutenant,--but I'd rather take no more, if it's all the same to your honor." "But it ain't, Blunt, by any means; the rule is universal among gentlemen on ship and ashore, that whenever a fellow's glass is filled, he must drink it to the dregs, though he may leave a drop in the bottom to pour out on the table in honor of his sweetheart;--so, down with the cider! And now Blunt, my boy, that you've calked your _first_ nail-head, I insist upon a bumper all round to that sweetheart you were just talking of!" "_Me_, lieutenant?" "_You_, corporal!" "I wasn't talking about any sweetheart, as I remembers, lieutenant;--'pon the honor of a soldier, I haven't had no such a thing this twenty years, since one warm summer's afternoon, when Jane----" "Now, corporal, you don't pretend to contradict your superior officer, I hope. You don't intend to be the first man on this ship to show a mutinous example!" "Oh! God bless me, lieutenant, the thought never entered my brain!" But the third tumbler of champagne _did_, in the apple-blossom disguise of "_cider_;" and, in half an hour, there wasn't an odder figure on deck than the poor corporal, whose vice-like stock steadied his neck, though there was nothing that could make him toe the plank which he pertinaciously insisted on promenading. Blunt the immaculate, was undeniably drunk! In fact,--though I say it with all possible respect for her Majesty's naval officers, _while on duty_,--there was, by this time, hardly a sober man on deck or in the cabin except myself and the Spanish captain, who left me to engage the prize-officer in a game of backgammon or dominoes. The crew was dozing about the decks, or nodding over the taffrail, while my colleague, the boatswain, prepared an oar on the forecastle to assist me in reaching the beach. It was near midnight when I stripped in my state-room, leaving my garments in the berth, and hanging my watch over its pillow. In a small bundle I tied a flannel shirt and a pair of duck pantaloons, which I fastened behind my neck as I stood on the forecastle; and then, placing the oar beneath my arm, I glided from the bows into the quiet water. The night was not only very dark, but a heavy squall of wind and rain, accompanied by thunder, helped to conceal my escape; and free the stream from sharks. I was not long in reaching a native town, where a Krooman from below, who had known me at Gallinas, was prepared for my reception and concealment. Next morning, the cabin-boy, who did not find me as usual on deck, took my coffee to the state-room, where, it was supposed, I still rested in comfortable oblivion of last night's carouse. But the bird had flown! There were my trunk, my garments, my watch,--undisturbed as I left them when preparing for bed. There was the linen of my couch turned down and tumbled during repose. The inquest had no doubt of my fate:--_I had fallen overboard during the night_, and was doubtless, by this time, well digested in the bowels of African sharks! Folks shook their heads with surprise when it was reported that the notorious slaver, Canot, had fallen a victim to _mania à potu_! The _report_ of my death soon reached shore; the British townsfolk believed it, but I never imagined for a moment that the warm-hearted tar who commanded the prize had been deceived by such false signals. During eight days I remained hidden among the friendly negroes, and from my loophole, saw the Russian vessel sail under the Saracen's escort. I was not, however, neglected in my concealment by the worthy tradesmen of the British colony, who knew I possessed money as well as credit. This permitted me to receive visits and make purchases for the factory, so that I was enabled, on the eighth day, with a full equipment of all I desired, to quit the British jurisdiction in a Portuguese vessel. On our way to New Sestros, I made the skipper heave his main-yard aback at Digby, while I embarked thirty-one "darkies," and a couple of stanch canoes with their Kroomen, to land my human freight in case of encountering a cruiser. And well was it for me that I took this precaution. Night fell around us, dark and rainy,--the wind blowing in squalls, and sometimes dying away altogether. It was near one o'clock when the watch announced two vessels on our weather bow; and, of course, the canoes were launched, manned, filled with twenty of the gang, and set adrift for the coast, ere our new acquaintances could honor us with their personal attention. Ten of the slaves still remained on board, and as it was perilous to risk them in our own launch, we capsized it over the squad, burying the fellows in its bowels under the lee of a sailor's pistol to keep them quiet if we were searched. Our lights had hardly been extinguished in cabin and binnacle, when we heard the measured stroke of a man-of-war oar. In a few moments more the boat was alongside, the officer on deck, and a fruitless examination concluded. The blacks beneath the launch were as silent as death; nothing was found to render the "Maria" suspicious; and we were dismissed with a left-handed blessing for rousing gentlemen from their bunks on so comfortless a night. Next morning at dawn we reached New Sestros, where my ten lubbers were landed without delay. But our little comedy was not yet over. Noon had not struck before the "Dolphin" cast anchor within hail of the "Maria," and made so free as to claim her for a prize! In the darkness and confusion of shipping the twenty slaves who were first of all despatched in canoes, one of them slipped overboard with a paddle, and sustained himself till daylight, when he was picked up by the cruiser whose jaws we had escaped during the night! The negro's story of our trick aroused the ire of her commander, and the poor "Maria" was obliged to pay the forfeit by revisiting Sierra Leone in custody of an officer. There were great rejoicings on my return to New Sestros. The coast was full of odd and contradictory stories about our capture. When the tale of my death at Sierra Leone by drowning, in a fit of drunkenness, was told to my patron Don Pedro, that intelligent gentleman denied it without hesitation, because, in the language of the law, "_it proved too much_." It was _possible_, he said, that I might have been drowned; but when they told him I had come to my death by strong drink, they declared what was not only improbable, but altogether out of the question. Accordingly, he would take the liberty to discredit the entire story, being sure that I would turn up before long. But poor Prince Freeman was not so clever a judge of nature as Don Pedro. Freeman had heard of my death; and, imbued as he was with the superstitions of his country, nobody could make him credit my existence till he despatched a committee to my factory, headed by his son, to report the facts. But then, on the instant, the valiant prince paid me a visit of congratulation. As I held out both hands to welcome him, I saw the fellow shrink with distrust. "Count your fingers!" said Freeman. "Well," said I, "what for?--here they are--one--two--three--four-- five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten!" "Good--good!" shouted the prince, as he clasped my digits. "White men tell too many lies 'bout the commodore! White man say, John Bull catch commodore, and cut him fingers all off, so commodore no more can 'makee book' for makee fool of John Bull!" Which, being translated into English, signifies that it was reported my fingers had been cut off by my British captors to prevent me from writing letters by which the innocent natives believed I so often bamboozled and deceived the cruisers of her Majesty. During my absence, a French captain, who was one of our most attentive friends, had left a donkey which he brought from the Cape de Verds for my especial delectation, by way of an occasional _promenade à cheval_! I at once resolved to bestow the "long-eared convenience" on Freeman, not only as a type, but a testimonial; yet, before a week was over, the unlucky quadruped reappeared at my quarters, with a message from the prince that it might do well enough for a bachelor like me, but its infernal voice was enough to cause the miscarriage of an entire harem, if not of every honest woman throughout his jurisdiction! The superstition spread like wildfire. The women were up in arms against the beast; and I had no rest till I got rid of its serenades by despatching it to Monrovia, where the dames and damsels were not afraid of donkeys of any dimensions. CHAPTER LX. It was my habit to employ at New Sestros a clerk, store-keeper, and four seamen, all of whom were whites of reliable character, competent to aid me efficiently in the control of my _barracoons_. One of these sailors died of dropsy while in my service; and, as I write, the memory of his death flashes across my mind so vividly, that I cannot help recording it among the characteristic events of African coast-life. Sanchez, I think, was by birth a Spaniard; at least his perfect familiarity with the language, as well as name and appearance, induced me to believe that the greater part of his life must have been spent under the shield of Saint Iago. The poor fellow was ill for a long time, but in Africa, existence is so much a long-drawn malady, that we hardly heeded his bloated flesh or cadaverous skin, as he sat, day after day, musket in hand, at the gate of our barracoon. At last, however, his confinement to bed was announced, and every remedy within our knowledge applied for relief. This time, however, the summons was peremptory; the sentence was final; there was no reprieve. On the morning of his death, the sufferer desired me to be called, and, sending away the African nurse and the two old comrades who watched faithfully at his bedside, explained that he felt his end approaching, yet could not depart without easing his soul by _confession_! "Here, Don Téodor," said he, "are five ounces of gold--all I have saved in this world,--the lees of my life,--which I want you to take care of, and when I am dead send to my sister, who is married to ----, in Matanzas. Will you promise?" I promised. "And now, Don Téodor," continued he, "I must _confess_!" I could not repress a smile as I replied,--"But, José, I am no _padre_, you know; a _clerigo_ in no part of a slave factory; I cannot absolve your sins; and, as for my _prayers_, poor fellow, alas! what can they do for your sins when I fear they will hardly avail for my own!" "It's all one, _mi capitan_" answered the dying man; "it makes not the least difference, Don Téodor, if you are a clergyman or any thing else; it is the law of our church; and when confession is over, a man's soul is easier under canvas, even if there's no regular _padre_ at hand to loosen the ropes, and let one's sins fly to the four winds of heaven. Listen,--it will be short. "It is many years since I sailed from Havana with that notorious slaver, Miguel ----, whose murder you may have heard of on the coast. Our vessel was in capital order for speed as well as cargo, and we reached Cape Mount after a quick voyage. The place, however, was so bare of slaves, that we coasted the reefs till we learned from a Mesurado Krooman that, in less than a month, the supply at Little Bassa would be abundant. We shipped the savage with his boatman, and next day reached our destination. "Miguel was welcomed warmly by the chiefs, who offered a choice lot of negroes for a portion of our cargo, inviting the captain to tarry with the rest of his merchandise and establish a factory. He assented; our brig was sent home with a short cargo, while I and two others landed with the captain, to aid in the erection and defence of the requisite buildings. "It did not take long to set up our bamboo houses and open a trade, for whose supply Miguel began an intercourse with Cape Mesurado, paying in doubloons and receiving his merchandise in vessels manned by American blacks. "Our captain was no niggard in housekeeping. Bountiful meals every day supplied his friends and factory. No man went from his door hungry or dissatisfied. When the colonists came up in their boats with goods, or walked the beach from the Cape to our settlement, Miguel was always alert with a welcome. A great intimacy, of course, ensued; and, among the whole crowd of traffickers, none were higher in our chief's estimation than a certain T----, who rarely visited the _barracoons_ without a gift from Miguel, in addition to his stipulated pay. "In due time the brig returned from Havana, with a cargo of rum, tobacco, powder, and _a box of doubloons_; but she was ordered to the Cape de Verds to change her flag. In the interval, the Mesurado colonists picked a quarrel with the Trade-Town chiefs, and, aided by an American vessel, under Colombian colors, landed a division of colonial troops and destroyed the Spanish barracoons.[G] "The ruin of a Spanish factory could not be regarded by our captain with any other feeling than that of resentment. Still, he manifested his sensibility by coolness towards the colonists, or by refraining from that _profitable_ welcome to which they had hitherto been accustomed. But the Monrovians were not to be rebuffed by disdain. They had heard, I suppose, of the box of doubloons, and Miguel was 'a good fellow,' in spite of his frigidity. They were _his_ friends for ever, and all the harm that had been done his countrymen was attributable alone to their Colombian foes, and not to the colonists. Such were the constant declarations of the Monrovians, as they came, singly and in squads, to visit us after the Trade-Town plunder. T----, in particular, was loud in his protestations of regard; and such was the earnestness of his manner, that Miguel, by degrees, restored him to confidence. "Thus, for a while, all things went smoothly, till T---- reached our anchorage, with several passengers in his craft, bound, as they said, to Grand Bassa. As usual on such visits, the whole party dined with Miguel at four in the afternoon, and, at six, retired towards their vessel, with a gift of provisions and liquor for their voyage. "About eight o'clock, a knocking at our gates--closed invariably at dark, according to custom--gave notice that our recent guests had returned. They craved hospitality for the night. They had dallied a couple of hours on the beach, with the hope of getting off, but the surf was so perilous that no Kroomen would venture to convey them through the breakers. "Such an appeal was, of course, enough for the heart of a courteous Spaniard,--and, on the coast, you know, it is imperative. Miguel opened the door, and, in an instant, fell dead on the threshold, with a ball in his skull. Several guns were discharged, and the house filled with colonists. At the moment of attack I was busy in the _barracoon_; but, as soon as I came forth, the assailants approached in such numbers that I leaped the barriers and hid myself in the forest till discovered by some friendly natives. "I remained with these Africans several weeks, while a canoe was summoned from Gallinas for my rescue. From thence I sailed to Cuba, and was the first to apprise our owners of the piratical onslaught by which the factory had been destroyed. "After this, I made several successful voyages to the coast; and, at last, sauntering one evening along the _paseo_ at Havana, I met Don Miguel's brother, who, after a sorrowful chat about the tragedy, offered me a quarter-master's berth in a brig he was fitting out for Africa. It was accepted on the spot. "In a month we were off Mesurado, and cruised for several days from the cape to Grand Bassa, avoiding every square-rigged vessel that loomed above the horizon. At length, we espied a small craft beating down the coast. We bore the stranger company for several hours, till, suddenly taking advantage of her long tack out to sea, we gave chase and cut off her return towards land. "It was a fine afternoon, and the sun was yet an hour in the sky when we intercepted the schooner. As we ran alongside, I thought I recognized the faces of several who, in days of old, wore familiar in our factory,--but what was my surprise, when T---- himself came to the gangway, and hailed us in Spanish! "I pointed out the miscreant to my comrade, and, in an instant, he was in our clutches. We let the sun go down before we contrived a proper death for the felon. His five companions, double-ironed, were nailed beneath the hatches in the hold. After this, we riveted the murderer, in chains, to the mainmast, and, for better security, fastened his spread arms to the deck by spikes through his hands. Every sail was then set on the craft, two barrels of tar were poured over the planks, and a brand was thrown in the midst of the combustible materials. For a while, the schooner was held by a hawser till we saw the flames spread from stern to cut-water, and then, with a cheer, _adios_! It was a beautiful sight,--that _auto-da-fé_, on the sea, in the darkness! "My confession, Don Téodor, is over. From that day, I have never been within a church or alongside a _padre_; but I could not die without sending the gold to my sister, and begging a mass in some parish for the rest of my soul!" I felt very conscious that I was by no means the person to afford ghostly consolation to a dying man under such circumstances, but while I promised to fulfil his request carefully, I could not help inquiring whether he sincerely repented these atrocious deeds? "Ah! yes, Don Téodor, a thousand times! Many a night, when alone on my watch at sea, or in yonder stockade, marching up and down before the _barracoon_, I have wept like a child for the innocent crew of that little schooner; but, as for the murderer of _Don Miguel_--!" He stared wildly for a minute into my eyes--shuddered--fell back--was dead! I have no doubt the outlaw's story contained exaggerations, or fell from a wrecked mind that was drifting into eternity on the current of delirium. I cannot credit his charge against the Monrovian colonists; yet I recount the narrative as an illustration of many a bloody scene that has stained the borders of Africa. FOOTNOTE: [G] The reader will recollect this is not CANOT'S story, but the sailor's. CHAPTER LXI. During my first visit to Digby, I promised my trading friends--perhaps rather rashly--that I would either return to their settlement, or, at least, send merchandise and a clerk to establish a factory. This was joyous news for the traffickers, and, accordingly, I embraced an early occasion to despatch, in charge of a clever young sailor, such stuffs as would be likely to tickle the negro taste. There were two towns at Digby, governed by cousins who had always lived in harmony. My mercantile venture, however, was unhappily destined to be the apple of discord between these relatives. The establishment of so important an institution as a slave-factory within the jurisdiction of the younger savage, gave umbrage to the elder. His town could boast neither of "merchandise" nor a "white man;" there was no profitable tax to be levied from foreign traffic; and, in a very short time, this unlucky partiality ripened the noble kinsmen into bitter enemies. It is not the habit in Africa for negroes to expend their wrath in harmless words, so that preparations were soon made in each settlement for defence as well as hostility. Both towns were stockaded and carefully watched by sentinels, day and night. At times, forays were made into each other's suburbs, but as the chiefs were equally vigilant and alert, the extent of harm was the occasional capture of women or children, as they wandered to the forest and stream for wood and water. This dalliance, however, did not suit the ardor of my angry favorite. After wasting a couple of months, he purchased the aid of certain _bushmen_, headed by a notorious scoundrel named Jen-ken, who had acquired renown for his barbarous ferocity throughout the neighborhood. Jen-ken and his chiefs were _cannibals_, and never trod the war-path without a pledge to return laden with human flesh to gorge their households. Several assaults were made by this savage and his _bushmen_ on the dissatisfied cousin, but as they produced no significant results, the barbarians withdrew to the interior. A truce ensued. Friendly proposals were made by the younger to the elder, and again, a couple of months glided by in seeming peace. Just at this time business called me to Gallinas. On my way thither I looked in at Digby, intending to supply the displeased chieftain with goods and an agent if I found the establishment profitable. It was sunset when I reached the beach; too late, of course, to land my merchandise, so that I postponed furnishing both places until the morning. As might fairly be expected, there was abundant joy at my advent. The neglected rival was wild with satisfaction at the report that he, too, at length was favored with a "white-man." His "town" immediately became a scene of unbounded merriment. Powder was burnt without stint. Gallons of rum were distributed to both sexes; and dancing, smoking and carousing continued till long after midnight, when all stole off to maudlin sleep. About three in the morning, the sudden screams of women and children aroused me from profound torpor! Shrieks were followed by volleys of musketry. Then came a loud tattoo of knocks at my door, and appeals from the negro chief to rise and fly. "The town was besieged:--the head-men were on the point of escaping:--resistance was vain:--they had been betrayed--there were no fighters to defend the stockade!" I was opening the door to comply with this advice, when my Kroomen, who knew the country's ways even better than I, dissuaded me from departing, with the confident assurance that our assailants were unquestionably composed of the rival townsfolk, who had only temporarily discharged the bushmen to deceive my entertainer. The Kroo insisted that I had nothing to fear. We might, they said, be seized and even imprisoned; but after a brief detention, the captors would be glad enough to accept our ransom. If we fled, we might be slaughtered by mistake. I had so much confidence in the sense and fidelity of the band that always accompanied me,--partly as boatmen and partly as body-guard,--that I experienced very little personal alarm when I heard the shouts as the savages rushed through the town murdering every one they encountered. In a few moments our own door was battered down by the barbarians, and Jen-ken, torch in hand, made his appearance, claiming us as prisoners. Of course, we submitted without resistance, for although fully armed, the odds were so great in those ante-revolver days, that we would have been overwhelmed by a single wave of the infuriated crowd. The barbarian chief instantly selected our house for his headquarters, and despatched his followers to complete their task. Prisoner after prisoner was thrust in. At times the heavy mash of a war club and the cry of strangling women, gave notice that the work of death was not yet ended. But the night of horror wore away. The gray dawn crept through our hovel's bars, and all was still save the groans of wounded captives, and the wailing of women and children. By degrees, the warriors dropped in around their chieftain. A _palaver-house_, immediately in front of my quarters, was the general rendezvous; and scarcely a _bushman_ appeared without the body of some maimed and bleeding victim. The mangled but living captives were tumbled on a heap in the centre, and soon, every avenue to the square was crowded with exulting savages. Rum was brought forth in abundance for the chiefs. Presently, slowly approaching from a distance, I heard the drums, horns, and war-bells; and, in less than fifteen minutes, a procession of women, whose naked limbs were smeared with chalk and ochre, poured into the palaver-house to join the beastly rites. Each of these devils was armed with a knife, and bore in her hand some cannibal trophy. Jen-ken's wife, a corpulent wench of forty-five,--dragged along the ground, by a single limb, the slimy corpse of an infant ripped alive from its mother's womb. As her eyes met those of her husband the two fiends yelled forth a shout of mutual joy, while the lifeless babe was tossed in the air and caught as it descended on the point of a spear. Then came the _refreshment_, in the shape of rum, powder, and blood, which was quaffed by the brutes till they reeled off, with linked hands, in a wild dance around the pile of victims. As the women leaped and sang, the men applauded and encouraged. Soon, the ring was broken, and, with a yell, each female leaped on the body of a wounded prisoner and commenced the final sacrifice with the mockery of lascivious embraces! In my wanderings in African forests I have often seen the tiger pounce upon its prey, and, with instinctive thirst, satiate its appetite for blood and abandon the drained corpse; but these African negresses were neither as decent nor as merciful as the beast of the wilderness. Their malignant pleasure seemed to consist in the invention of tortures, that would agonize but not slay. There was a devilish spell in the tragic scene that fascinated my eyes to the spot. A slow, lingering, tormenting mutilation was practised on the living, as well as on the dead; and, in every instance, the brutality of the women exceeded that of the men. I cannot picture the hellish joy with which they passed from body to body, digging out eyes, wrenching off lips, tearing the ears, and slicing the flesh from the quivering bones; while the queen of the harpies crept amid the butchery gathering the brains from each severed skull as a _bonne-bouche_ for the approaching feast! After the last victim yielded his life, it did not require long to kindle a fire, produce the requisite utensils, and fill the air with the odor of _human flesh_. Yet, before the various messes were half broiled, every mouth was tearing the dainty morsels with shouts of joy, denoting the combined satisfaction of revenge and appetite! In the midst of this appalling scene, I heard a fresh cry of exultation, as a pole was borne into the apartment, on which was impaled the living body of the conquered chieftain's wife. A hole was quickly dug, the stave planted and fagots supplied; but before a fire could be kindled the wretched woman was dead, so that the barbarians were defeated in their hellish scheme of burning her alive. * * * * * I do not know how long these brutalities lasted, for I remember very little after this last attempt, except that the bush men packed in plantain leaves whatever flesh was left from the orgie, to be conveyed to their friends in the forest. This was the first time it had been my lot _to behold the most savage development of African nature under the stimulus of war_. The butchery made me sick, dizzy, paralyzed. I sank on the earth benumbed with stupor; nor was I aroused till nightfall, when my Kroomen bore me to the conqueror's town, and negotiated our redemption for the value of twenty slaves. CHAPTER LXII. I hope that no one will believe I lingered a moment in Digby, or ever dealt again with its miscreants, after the dreadful catastrophe I have described in the last chapter. It is true that this tragedy might never have happened within the territory of the rival kinsmen had not the temptations of slave-trade been offered to their passionate natures; yet the event was so characteristic, not only of slave-war but of indigenous barbarity, that I dared not withhold it in these sketches of my life. Light was not gleaming over the tops of the forest next morning before I was on the beach ready to embark for Gallinas. But the moon was full, and the surf so high that my boat could not be launched. Still, so great were my sufferings and disgust that I resolved to depart at all hazards; and divesting myself of my outer garments, I stepped into a native canoe with one man only to manage it, and dashed through the breakers. Our provisions consisted of three bottles of gin, a jug of water, and a basket of raw cassava, while a change of raiment and my accounts were packed in an air-tight keg. Rough as was the sea, we succeeded in reaching the neighborhood of Gallinas early next morning. My Spanish friends on shore soon detected me with their excellent telescopes, by my well-known cruising dress of red flannel shirt and Panama hat; but, instead of running to the beach with a welcome, they hoisted the black flag, which is ever a signal of warning to slavers. My Krooman at once construed the telegraphic despatch as an intimation that the surf was impassable. Indeed, the fact was visible enough even to an uninstructed eye, as we approached the coast. For miles along the bar at the river's mouth, the breakers towered up in tall masses, whitening the whole extent of beach with foam. As our little canoe rose on the top of the swell, outside the rollers, I could see my friends waving their hats towards the southward, as if directing my movements towards Cape Mount. In my best days on the coast I often swam in perilous seasons a far greater distance than that which intervened betwixt my boat and the shore. My companions at Gallinas well knew my dexterity in the water, and I could not comprehend, therefore, why they forbade my landing, with so much earnestness. In fact, their zeal somewhat nettled me, and I began to feel that dare-devil resistance which often goads us to acts of madness which make us heroes if successful, but fools if we fail. It was precisely this temper that determined me to hazard the bar; yet, as I rose on my knees to have a better view of the approaching peril, I saw the black flag thrice lowered in token of adieu. Immediately afterward it was again hoisted _over the effigy of an enormous shark_! In a twinkling, I understood the _real_ cause of danger, which no alacrity or courage in the water could avoid, and comprehended that my only hope was in the open sea. A retreat to Cape Mount was a toilsome task for my weary _Krooman_, who had been incessantly at work for twenty-four hours. Yet, there were but two alternatives,--either to await the subsidence of the surf, or the arrival of some friendly vessel. In the mean time, I eat my last morsel of cassava, while the _Krooman_ stretched himself in the bottom of the canoe,--half in the water and half in the glaring sun,--and went comfortably to sleep. I steered the boat with a paddle, as it drifted along with tide and current, till the afternoon, when a massive pile of clouds in the south-east gave warning of one of those tornadoes which deluge the coast of Africa in the months of March and April. A stout punch in the Krooman's ribs restored him to consciousness from his hydropathic sleep; but he shivered as he looked at the sky and beheld a token of that greatest misfortune that can befall a negro,--a wet skin at sea from a shower of rain. We broached our last bottle to battle the chilling element. Had we been in company with other canoes, our first duty would have been to lash the skiffs together so as to breast the gusts and chopping sea with more security; but as I was entirely alone, our sole reliance was on the expert arm and incessant vigilance of my companion. I will not detain the reader by explaining the simple process that carried us happily through the deluge. By keeping the canoe bow on, we nobly resisted the shock of every wave, and gradually fell back under the impulse of each undulation. Thus we held on till the heavy clouds discharged their loads, beating down the sea and half filling the canoe with rain water. While the Krooman paddled and steered, I conducted the bailing, and as the African dipper was not sufficient to keep us free, I pressed my Panama hat into service as an extra hand. These savage squalls on the African coast, at the beginning of the rainy season, are of short duration, so that our anxiety quickly left us to the enjoyment of soaking skins. A twist at my red flannel relieved it of superabundant moisture, but as the negro delighted in no covering except his flesh, an additional kiss of the bottle was the only comfort I could bestow on his shivering limbs. This last dram was our forlorn hope, but it only created a passing comfort, which soon went off leaving our bodies more chill and dejected than before. My head swam with feverish emptiness. I seemed suddenly possessed by a feeling of wild independence--seeing nothing, fearing nothing. Presently, this died away, and I fell back in utter helplessness, wholly benumbed. I do not remember how long this stupor lasted, but I was aroused by the Krooman with the report of a land-breeze, and a sail which he declared to be a cruiser. It cost me considerable effort to shake off my lethargy, nor do I know whether I would have succeeded had there not been a medical magic in the idea of a man-of-war, which flashed athwart my mind a recollection of the slave accounts in our keg! I had hardly time to throw the implement overboard before the craft was within hail; but instead of a cruiser she turned out to be a slaver, destined, like myself, for Gallinas. A warm welcome awaited me in the cabin, and a comfortable bed with plenty of blankets restored me for a while to health, though in all likelihood my perilous flight from Digby and its horrors, will ache rheumatically in my limbs till the hour of my death. It was well that I did not venture through the breakers on the day that the dead shark was hoisted _in terrorem_ as a telegraph. Such was the swarm of these monsters in the surf of Gallinas, that more than a hundred slaves had been devoured by them in attempting a shipment a few nights before! CHAPTER LXIII. "Don Pedro Blanco had left Gallinas,--a retired _millionnaire_!" When I heard this announcement at the factory, I could with difficulty restrain the open expression of my sorrow. It confirmed me in a desire that for some time had been strengthening in my mind. Years rolled over my head since, first of all, I plunged accidentally into the slave-trade. My passion for a roving life and daring adventure was decidedly cooled. The late barbarities inflicted on the conquered in a war of which I was the involuntary cause, appalled me with the traffic; and humanity called louder and louder than ever for the devotion of my remaining days to honest industry. As I sailed down the coast to restore a child to his father,--the King of Cape Mount,--I was particularly charmed with the bold promontory, the beautiful lake, and the lovely islands, that are comprised in this enchanting region. When I delivered the boy to his parent, the old man's gratitude knew no bounds for his offspring's redemption from slavery. Every thing was tendered for my recompense; and, as I seemed especially to enjoy the delicious scenery of his realm, he offered me its best location as a gift, if I desired to abandon the slave-trade and establish a _lawful_ factory. I made up my mind on the spot that the day should come when I would be lord and master of Cape Mount; and, nestling under the lee of its splendid headland, might snap my fingers at the cruisers. Still I could not, at once, retreat from my establishment at New Sestros. Don Pedro's departure was a sore disappointment, because it left my accounts unliquidated and my release from the trade dependent on circumstances. Nevertheless, I resolved to risk his displeasure by quitting the factory for a time, and visiting him at Havana after a trip to England. * * * * * It was in the summer of 1839 that I arranged my affairs for a long absence, and sailed for London in the schooner Gil Blas. We had a dull passage till we reached the chops of the British Channel, whence a smart south-wester drove us rapidly towards our destination. Nine at night was just striking from the clocks of Dover when a bustle on deck, a tramping of feet, a confused sound of alarm, orders, obedience and anxiety, was followed by a tremendous crash which prostrated me on the cabin floor, whence I bounded, with a single spring, to the deck. "A steamer had run us down!" Aloft, towered a huge black wall, while the intruder's cut-water pressed our tiny craft almost beneath the tide. There was no time for deliberation. The steamer's headway was stopped. The Gil Blas, like her scapegrace godfather, was in peril of sinking; and as the wheels began to revolve and clear the steamer from our wreck, every one scrambled in the best way he could on board the destroyer. Our reception on this occasion by the British lion was not the most respectful or hospitable that might be imagined. In fact, no notice was taken of us by these "hearts of oak," till a clever Irish soldier, who happened to be journeying to Dublin, invited us to the forward cabin. Our mate, however, would not listen to the proposal, and hastening to the quarter-deck, coarsely upbraided the steamer's captain with his misconduct, and demanded suitable accommodations for his wounded commander and passengers. In a short time the captain of the Gil Blas and I were conducted to the "gentlemen's cabin," and as I was still clad in the thin cotton undress in which I was embarking for the land of dreams when the accident occurred, a shirt and trowsers were handed me fresh from the slop-shop. When my native servant appeared in the cabin, a shower of coppers greeted him from the passengers. Next morning we were landed at Cowes, and as the steward claimed the restitution of a pair of slippers in which I had encased my toes, I was forced to greet the loyal earth of England with bare feet as well as uncovered head. Our sailors, however, were better off. In the forecastle they had fallen into the hands of Samaritans. A profusion of garments was furnished for all their wants, while a subscription, made up among the soldiers and women, supplied them with abundance of coin for their journey to London. * * * * * An economical life in Africa, and a series of rather profitable voyages, enabled me to enjoy my wish to see London, "above stairs as well as below." I brought with me from Africa a body-servant named Lunes, an active youth, whose idea of city-life and civilization had been derived exclusively from glimpses of New Sestros and Gallinas. I fitted him out on my arrival in London as a fashionable "tiger," with red waistcoat, corduroy smalls, blue jacket and gold band; and trotted him after me wherever I went in search of diversion. It may be imagined that I was vastly amused by the odd remarks and the complete amazement, with which this savage greeted every object of novelty or interest. After he became somewhat acquainted with the streets of London, Lunes occasionally made explorations on his own account, yet he seldom came back without a tale that showed the African to have been quite as much a curiosity to the cockneys as the cockneys were to the darkey. It happened just at this time that "Jim Crow" was the rage at one of the minor theatres, and as I felt interested to know how the personification would strike the boy, I sent him one night to the gallery with orders to return as soon as the piece was concluded. But the whole night passed without the appearance of my valet. Next morning I became anxious about his fate, and, after waiting in vain till noon, I employed a reliable officer to search for the negro, without disclosing the fact of his servitude. In the course of a few hours poor Lunes was brought to me in a most desolate condition. His clothes were in rags, and his gold-lace gone. It appeared that "Jim Crow" had outraged his sense of African character so greatly that he could not restrain his passion; but vented it in the choicest _billingsgate_ with which his vocabulary had been furnished in the forecastle of the "Gil Blas." His criticism of the real Jim was by no means agreeable to the patrons of the fictitious one. In a moment there was a row; and the result was, that Lunes after a thorough dilapidation of his finery departed in custody of the police, more, however, for the negro's protection than his chastisement. The loss of his dashing waistcoat, and the sound thrashing he received at the hands of a London mob while asserting the dignity of his country, and a night in the station house, spoiled my boy's opinion of Great Britain. I could not induce him afterwards to stir from the house without an escort, nor would he believe that every policeman was not specially on the watch to apprehend him. I was so much attached to the fellow, and his sufferings became so painful, that I resolved to send him back to Africa; nor shall I ever forget his delight when my decision was announced. The negro's joy, however, was incomprehensible to my fellow-lodgers, and especially to the gentle dames, who could not believe that an African, whose liberty was assured in England, would _voluntarily_ return to Africa and slavery! One evening, just before his departure, Lunes was sternly tried on this subject in my presence in the parlor, yet nothing could make him revoke his trip to the land of palm-trees and _malaria_. London was too cold for him;--he hated stockings;--shoes were an abomination! "Yet, tell me, Lunes," said one of the most bewitching of my fair friends,--"how is it that you go home to be a slave, when you may remain in London as a freeman?" I will repeat his answer--divested of its native gibberish: "Yes, Madam, I go--because I like my country best; if I am to be a slave or work, I want to do so for a true _Spaniard_. I don't like this thing, Miss,"--pointing to his shirt collar,--"it cuts my ears;--I don't like this thing"--pointing to his trowsers; "I like my country's fashion better than yours;"--and, taking out a large handkerchief, he gave the inquisitive dame a rapid demonstration of African economy in concealing nakedness, by twisting it round those portions of the human frame which modesty is commonly in the habit of hiding! There was a round of applause and a blaze of blushes at this extemporaneous pantomime, which Lunes concluded with the assurance that he especially loved his master, because,--"when he grew to be a proper man, I would give him plenty of wives!" I confess that my valet's philanthropic audience was not exactly prepared for this edifying culmination in favor of Africa; but, while my friends were busy in obliterating the red and the wrinkles from their cheeks, I took the liberty to enjoy, from behind the shadow of my tea cup, the manifest disgust they felt for the bad taste of poor Lunes! CHAPTER LXIV. By this time my curiosity was not only satiated by the diversions of the great metropolis, but I had wandered off to the country and visited the most beautiful parts of the islands. Two months thus slipped by delightfully in Great Britain when a sense of duty called me to Havana; yet, before my departure, I resolved, if possible, to secure the alliance of some opulent Englishman to aid me in the foundation and maintenance of lawful commerce at Cape Mount. Such a person I found in Mr. George Clavering Redman, of London, who owned the Gil Blas, which, with two other vessels, he employed in trade between England and Africa. I had been introduced to this worthy gentleman as "a lawful trader on the coast," still, as I did not think that business relations ought to exist between us while he was under so erroneous an impression, I seized an early opportunity to unmask myself. At the same time, I announced my unalterable resolution to abandon a slaver's life for ever; to establish a trading post at some fortunate location; and, while I recounted the friendship and peculiar bonds between the king and myself, offered to purchase Cape Mount from its African proprietor, if such an enterprise should be deemed advisable. Redman was an enterprising merchant. He heard my proposal with interest, and, after a few days' consideration, assented to a negotiation, as soon as I gave proofs of having abandoned the slave traffic for ever. It was understood that no contract was to be entered into, or document signed, till I was at liberty to withdraw completely from Don Pedro Blanco and all others concerned with him. This accomplished, I was to revisit England and assume my lawful functions. * * * * * When I landed in the beautiful Queen of the Antilles I found Don Pedro in no humor to accede to these philanthropic notions. The veteran slaver regarded me, no doubt, as a sort of cross between a fool and zealot. An American vessel had been recently chartered to carry a freight to the coast; and, accordingly, instead of receiving a release from servitude, I was ordered on board the craft as supercargo of the enterprise! In fact, on the third day after my arrival at Havana, I was forced to re-embark for the coast without a prospect of securing my independence. The reader may ask why I did not burst the bond, and free myself at a word from a commerce with which I was disgusted? The question is _natural_--but the reply is _human_. I had too large an unliquidated interest at New Sestros, and while it remained so, I was not entitled to demand from my employer a final settlement for my years of labor. In other words _I was in his power_, so far as my means were concerned, and my services were too valuable to be surrendered by him voluntarily. A voyage of forty-two days brought me once more to New Sestros, accompanied by a couple of negro women, who paid their passage and were lodged very comfortably in the steerage. The elder was about forty and extremely corpulent, while her companion was younger as well as more comely. This respectable dame, after an absence of twenty-four years, returned to her native Gallinas, on a visit to her father, king Shiakar. At the age of fifteen, she had been taken prisoner and sent to Havana. A Cuban confectioner purchased the likely girl, and, for many years, employed her in hawking his cakes and pies. In time she became a favorite among the townsfolk, and, by degrees, managed to accumulate a sufficient amount to purchase her freedom. Years of frugality and thrift made her proprietor of a house in the city and an egg-stall in the market, when chance threw in her way a cousin, lately imported from Africa, who gave her news of her father's family. A quarter of a century had not extinguished the natural fire in this negro's heart, and she immediately resolved to cross the Atlantic and behold once more the savage to whom she owed her birth. I sent these adventurous women to Gallinas by the earliest trader that drifted past New Sestros, and learned that they were welcomed among the islands with all the ceremony common among Africans on such occasions. Several canoes were despatched to the vessel, with flags, tom-toms, and horns, to receive and welcome the ladies. On the shore, a procession was formed, and a bullock offered to the captain in token of gratitude for his attention. When her elder brother was presented to the retired egg-merchant, he extended his arms to embrace his kinswoman; but, to the amazement of all, she drew back with a mere offer of her hand, refusing every demonstration of affection _till he should appear dressed with becoming decency_. This rebuke, of course, kept the rest of her relatives at bay, for there was a sad deficiency of trowsers in the gang, and it was the indispensable garment that caused so unsisterly a reception. But Shiakar's daughter, travelled as she was, could neither set the fashions nor reform the tastes of Gallinas. After a sojourn of ten days, she bade her kindred an eternal adieu, and returned to Havana, disgusted with the manners and customs of her native land. CHAPTER LXV. On my return to New Sestros, I found that the colonial authorities of Liberia had been feeling the pulse of my African friend, Freeman, in order to secure the co-operation of that distinguished personage in the suppression of the slave traffic. Freeman professed his willingness to conclude a treaty of commerce and amity with Governor Buchanan, but respectfully declined to molest the factories within his domain. Still, Buchanan was not to be thwarted by a single refusal, and enlisted the sympathy of an officer in command of a United States cruiser, who accompanied the governor to the anchorage at New Sestros. As soon as these personages reached their destination, a note was despatched to the negro potentate, desiring him to expel from his territory all Spaniards who were possessed of factories. To this, it is said, the chief returned a short and tart rebuke for the interference with his independence; whereupon the following singular missive was immediately delivered to the Spaniards:-- "U. S. BRIG DOLPHIN, "NEW SESTROS, _March 6, 1840_. "SIR: "I address you in consequence of having received a note from you a few evenings since; but I wish it to be understood that this communication is intended for all or any persons who are now in New Sestros, engaged in the slave-trade. "I have received information that you now have, in your establishments on shore, several hundred negroes confined in barracoons, waiting for an opportunity to ship them. Whether you are Americans, English, French, Spaniards, or Portuguese, you are acting in violation of the established laws of your respective countries, and, therefore, are not entitled to any protection from your governments. You have placed yourselves beyond the protection of any civilized nation, as you are engaged in a traffic which has been made _piracy_ by most of the Christian nations of the world. "As I have been sent by my government to root out, if possible, this traffic on and near our settlements on the coast, I must now give you notice, that you must break up your establishment at this point, in two weeks from this date; failing to do so, I shall take such measures as I conceive necessary to attain this object. I will thank you to send a reply to this communication immediately, stating your intentions, and also sending an account of the number of slaves you have on hand. "I am, &c., &c., &c., "CHARLES R. BELL, "_Lieut. Com. U. S. Naval Forces, Coast of Africa_. "To Mr. A. DEMER and others, "NEW SESTROS, _Coast of Africa_." I do not know what reply was made to this communication, as a copy was not retained; but when my clerk handed me the original letter from Lieutenant Bell, on my arrival from Cuba I lost no time in forwarding the following answer to Col. Hicks, at Monrovia, to be despatched by him to the American officer: "TO CHARLES R. BELL, ESQ., "_Lieut. Com. of the U. S. Forces, Coast of Africa, Monrovia_. "NEW SESTROS, _April 2, 1840_. "SIR: "Your letter of the 6th March, directed to the white residents of New Sestros, was handed me on my return to this country, and I am sorry I can make but the following short answer. "First, sir, you seem to assume a supremacy over the most civilized nations of the world, and, under the doubtful pretext of your nation's authority, threaten to land and destroy our property on these neutral shores. Next, you are pleased to inform us that all Christian nations have declared the slave-trade _piracy_, and that we are not entitled to any protection from our government. Why, then, do the Southern States of your great confederacy allow slavery, public auctions, transportation from one State to another,--not only of civilized black native subjects,--but of nearly white, American, Christian citizens? Such is the case in your free and independent country; and, though the slave-trade is carried on in the United States of America with more brutality than in any other colony, I still hope you are a Christian! "To your third article, wherein you observe, having 'been sent by your government to root out this traffic, if possible, near your own settlements on the coast,'--allow me to have my doubts of such orders. Your government could not have issued them without previously making them publicly known;--and, permit me to say, those Christian nations you are pleased to mention, are not aware that your nation had set up colonies on the coast of Africa. They were always led to believe that these Liberian settlements were nothing but Christian beneficial societies, humanely formed by private philanthropists, to found a refuge for the poor blacks born in America, who cannot be protected in their native country by the free and independent laws and institutions of the United States. "If my argument cannot convince you that you are not justified in molesting a harmless people on these desolate shores, allow me to inform you that, should you put your threats in execution and have the advantage over us, many factories would suffer by your unjust attack, which would give them an indisputable right to claim high damages from your government. "Most of the white residents here, are, and have been, friendly to Americans at large; some have been educated in your country, and it would be the saddest day of their lives, if obliged to oppose by force of arms the people of a nation they love as much as their own countrymen. The undersigned, in particular, would wish to observe that the same spirit that led him to avenge Governor Findley's murder, will support him in defence of his property, though much against his inclination. "I remain, very respectfully, "Your obedient servant, "THEODORE CANOT." This diplomatic encounter terminated the onslaught. Buchanan, who was over hasty with military display on most occasions, made a requisition for volunteers to march against New Sestros. But the troops were never set in motion. In the many years of my residence in the colonial neighborhood, this was the only occasion that menaced our friendship or verged upon hostilities. * * * * * Whilst I was abroad in England and Cuba, my _chargé d'affaires_ at New Sestros sent off a cargo of three hundred negroes, nearly all of whom were safely landed in the West Indies, bringing us a profit of nine thousand dollars. There were, however, still one hundred and fifty in our _barracoons_ to be shipped; and, as the cargo from the Crawford was quickly exchanged with the natives for more slaves, in two months' time, I found my pens surcharged with six hundred human beings. Two other neighboring factories were also crammed; while, unfortunately, directly in front of us, a strong reinforcement of British men-of-war kept watch and ward to prevent our depletion. No slaver dared show its topsails above the horizon. The season did not afford us supplies from the interior. Very few coasters looked in at New Sestros; and, as our stock of grain and provisions began to fail, the horrors of famine became the sole topic of conversation among our alarmed factors. It will readily be supposed that every effort was made, not only to economize our scanty stores, but to increase them through the intervention of boats that were sent far and wide to scour the coast for rice and cassava. Double and triple prices were offered for these articles, yet our agents returned without the required supplies. In fact, the free natives themselves were in danger of starvation, and while they refused to part with their remnants, even under the temptation of luxuries, they sometimes sent deputations to my settlement in search of food. By degrees I yielded to the conviction that I must diminish my mouths. First of all, I released the old and feeble from the _barracoon_. This, for a few days, afforded ample relief; but, as I retained only the staunchest, the remaining appetites speedily reduced our rations to a single meal _per diem_. At last, the steward reported, that even this allowance could be continued for little more than a week. In twelve days, at farthest, my resources would be utterly exhausted. In this extremity I summoned a council of neighboring chiefs, and exposing my situation, demanded their opinion as to a fitting course on the dreaded day. I had resolved to retain my blacks till the last measure was distributed, and then to liberate them to shift for themselves. But the idea of releasing six hundred famishing foemen struck the beach people with horror. It would, they said, be a certain source of war and murder; and they implored me not to take such a step till they made every effort to ease my burden. As a beginning, they proposed at once relieving the _barracoon_ of a large portion of females and of all the male youths, who were to be fed and guarded by them, on my account, till better times. By this system of colonizing I got rid of the support of two hundred and twenty-five negroes; and, as good luck would have it, a visit from a friendly coaster enabled me, within ten days, to exchange my beautiful cutter "Ruth" for a cargo of rice from the colony at Cape Palmas. It was fortunate that in a week after this happy relief the British cruisers left our anchorage for a few days. No sooner were they off, than a telegraph of smoke, which, in those days, was quite as useful on the African coast, as the electric is on ours, gave notice to the notorious "Volador." There was joy in the teeming factories when her signal was descried in the offing; and, before the following dawn, seven hundred and forty-nine human beings, packed within her one hundred and sixty-five tons, were on their way to Cuba. _This was the last cargo of slaves I ever shipped!_ CHAPTER LXVI. When the thought struck me of abandoning the slave-trade, and I had resolved to follow out the good impulse, I established a store in the neighborhood of my old _barracoons_ with the design of trafficking in the produce of industry alone. This concern was intrusted to the management of a clever young colonist. It was about this time that the British brig of war Termagant held New Sestros in permanent blockade, forbidding even a friendly boat to communicate with my factory. Early one morning I was called to witness a sturdy chase between my scolding foe and a small sail which was evidently running for the shore in order to save her crew by beaching. The British bull-dog, however, was not to be deterred by the perils of the surf; and, holding on with the tenacity of fate, pursued the stranger, till he discovered that a large reinforcement of armed natives was arrayed on the strand ready to protect the fugitives. Accordingly, the Englishmen refrained from assailing the mariners, and confined their revenge to the destruction of the craft. As this affray occurred within gun-shot of my lawful factory, I hastened to the beach under the belief that some of my _employés_ had unluckily fallen into a difficulty with the natives. But on my arrival I was greeted by a well-known emissary from our headquarters at Gallinas, who bore a missive imparting the Volador's arrival in Cuba with six hundred and eleven of her people. The letter furthermore apprised me that Don Pedro, who persisted in sending merchandise to my slave factory, still declined my resignation as his agent, but acknowledged a credit in his chest of thirteen thousand dollars for my commissions on the Volador's slaves. Here, then, were Confidence and Temptation, both resolutely proffered to lure me back to my ancient habits! I was busily engaged on the sands, enforcing from the negroes a restitution of clothes to the plundered postman, when the crack of a cannon, higher up the beach, made me fear that an aggression was being committed against my homestead. Before I could depart, however, two more shots in the same quarter, left me no room to doubt that the Termagant was talking most shrewishly with my factory at New Sestros. I reached the establishment with all convenient speed, only to find it full of natives, who had been brought to the spot from the interior by the sound of a cannonade. The following letter from the captain of the man-of-war, it seems, had been landed in a fishing canoe very soon after my departure in the morning, and the shots, I suppose, were discharged to awake my attention to its contents. "HER BRITANNIC MAJESTY'S SHIP TERMAGANT, "_Off_ NEW SESTROS, _Nov. 5, 1840_. "SIR: "The natives or Kroomen of your settlement having this day fired on the boats of Her B. M. ship under my command, while in chase of a Spanish boat with seven men going to New Sestros, I therefore demand the persons who fired on the boats, to answer for the same; and, should this demand not be complied with, I shall take such steps as I deem proper to secure satisfaction. "I have addressed you on this occasion, judging by the interference of those blacks in your behalf, that they are instigated by you. "I have the honor to be, sir, your obed't serv't, "H. F. SEAGRAM, "_Lieut. Com._ "TO MR. T. CANOT, "NEW SESTROS." When this cartel fell into my hands it lacked but an hour of sunset. The beach was alive with angry rollers, while the Termagant was still under easy sail, hovering up and down the coast before my factory, evidently meditating the propriety of another pill to provoke my notice. I sat down at once and wrote a sort of model response, promising to come on board bodily next morning to satisfy the lieutenant of my innocence; but when I inquired for a Mercury to bear my message, there was not a Krooman to be found willing to face either the surf or the British sailor. Accordingly, there was no alternative but to suffer my bamboo _barracoons_ and factory to be blown about my ears by the English vixen, or to face the danger, in person, and become the bearer of my own message. The proposal sounded oddly enough in the ears of the Kroomen, who, in spite of their acquaintance with my hardihood, could scarcely believe I would thrust my head into the very jaws of the lion. Still, they had so much confidence in the judgment displayed by white men on the coast, that I had little difficulty in engaging the boat and services of a couple of sturdy chaps; and, stripping to my drawers, so as to be ready to swim in the last emergency, I committed myself to their care. We passed the dangerous surf in safety, and in a quarter of an hour were alongside the Termagant, whose jolly lieutenant could not help laughing at the drenched _uniform_ in which I saluted him at the gangway. Slaver as I was, he did not deny me the rites of hospitality. Dry raiment and a consoling glass were speedily supplied; and with the reassured stamina of my improved condition, it may readily be supposed I was not long in satisfying the worthy Mr. Seagram that I had no concern in the encounter betwixt the natives and his boats. To clinch the argument I assured the lieutenant that I was not only guiltless of the assault, _but had made up my mind irrevocably to abandon the slave-trade_! I suppose there was as much rejoicing that night on board the Termagant over the redeemed slaver, as there is in most churches over a rescued sinner. It was altogether too late and too dark for me to repeat the perils of the surf and sharks, so that I willingly accepted the offer of a bed, and promised to accompany Seagram in the morning to the prince. Loud were the shouts of amazement and fear when the negroes saw me landing next day, side by side, in pleasant chat, with an officer, who, eighteen hours before, had been busy about my destruction. It was beyond their comprehension how an Englishman could visit my factory under such circumstances, nor could they divine how I escaped, after my voluntary surrender on board a cruiser. When the prince saw Seagram seated familiarly under my verandah, he swore that I must have some powerful _fetiche_ or _juju_ to compel the confidence of enemies; but his wonder became unbounded when the officer proposed his entire abandonment of the slave-trade, _and I supported the lieutenant's proposal_! I have hardly ever seen a man of any hue or character, so sorely perplexed as our African was by this singular suggestion. To stop the slave-trade, unless by compulsion, was, in his eyes, the absolute abandonment of a natural appetite or function. At first, he believed we were joking. It was inconceivable that I, who for years had carried on the traffic so adroitly, could be serious in the idea. For half an hour the puzzled negro walked up and down the verandah, muttering to himself, stopping, looking at both of us, hesitating, and laughing,--till at last, as he afterwards confessed, he concluded that I was only "_deceiving the Englishman_," and came forward with an offer to sign a treaty on the spot for the extinction of the traffic. Now the reader must bear in mind that I allowed the prince to mislead himself through his natural duplicity on this occasion, as I was thereby enabled to bring him again in contact with Seagram, and secure the support of British officers for my own purposes. In a few days the deed was done. The slave-trade at New Sestros was formally and for ever abolished by the prince and myself. As I was the principal mover in the affair, I voluntarily surrendered to the British officer on the day of signature, one hundred slaves; _in return for which I was guarantied the safe removal of my valuable merchandise, and property from the settlement._ It was a very short time after I had made all snug at New Sestros that misfortune fell suddenly on our parent nest at Gallinas. The Hon. Joseph Denman, who was senior officer of the British squadron on the coast, unexpectedly landed two hundred men, and burnt or destroyed all the Spanish factories amid the lagunes and islets. By this uncalculated act of violence, the natives of the neighborhood were enabled to gorge themselves with property that was valued, I understand, at a very large sum. An event like this could not escape general notice along the African coast, and in a few days I began to hear it rumored and discussed among the savages in _my_ vicinity. For a while it was still a mystery why _I_ escaped while Gallinas fell; but at length the sluggish mind of Prince Freeman began to understand my diplomacy, and, of course, to repent the sudden contract that deprived him of a right to rob me. Vexed by disappointment, the scoundrel assembled his minor chiefs, and named a day during which he knew the Termagant would be absent, to plunder and punish me for my interference with the welfare and "institutions" of his country. The hostile meeting took place without my knowledge, though it was disclosed to all my domestics, whose silence the prince had purchased. Indeed, I would have been completely surprised and cut off, _had it not been for the friendly warning of the negro whose life I had saved from the saucy-wood ordeal_. I still maintained in my service five white men, and four sailors who were wrecked on the coast and awaited a passage home. With this party and a few household negroes on whom reliance might be placed, I resolved at once to defend my quarters. My cannons were loaded, guards placed, muskets and cartridges distributed, and even the domestics supplied with weapons; yet, on the very night after the warning, every slave abandoned my premises, while even Lunes himself,--the companion of my journey to London, and pet of the ladies,--decamped with my favorite fowling-piece. When I went my rounds next morning, I was somewhat disheartened by appearances; but my spirits were quickly restored by the following letter from Seagram: "HER B. M. BRIG TERMAGANT, OFF TRADE-TOWN, "_23d January, 1841_. "Sir, "In your letter of yesterday, you request protection for your property, and inform me that you are in danger from the princes. I regret, indeed, that such should be the case, more especially as they have pledged me their words, and signed a '_book_' to the effect that they would never again engage in the slave traffic. But, _as I find you have acted in good faith since I commenced to treat with you on the subject_, I shall afford you every assistance in my power, and will land an armed party of twenty men before daylight on Monday. "I am, Sir, your obt. servt., "H. F. SEAGRAM, Lieut. Com'g." The Termagant's unlooked-for return somewhat dismayed the prince and his ragamuffins, though he had contrived to assemble quite two thousand men about my premises. Towards noon, however, there were evident signs of impatience for the expected booty; still, a wholesome dread of my cannon and small-arms, together with the cruiser's presence, prevented an open attack. After a while I perceived an attempt to set my stockade on fire, and as a conflagration would have given a superb opportunity to rob, I made the concerted signal for our British ally. In a twinkling, three of the cruiser's boats landed an officer with twenty-five musketeers, and before the savages could make the slightest show of resistance, I was safe under the bayonets of Saint George! It is needless to set forth the details of my rescue. The prince and his poltroons were panic struck; and in three or four days my large stock of powder and merchandise was embarked without loss for Monrovia. CHAPTER LXVII. My _barracoons_ and trading establishments were now totally destroyed, and I was once more afloat in the world. It immediately occurred to me that no opportunity would, perhaps, be more favorable to carry out my original designs upon Cape Mount, and when I sounded Seagram on the subject, he was not only willing to carry me there in his cruiser, but desired to witness my treaty with the prince for a cession of territory. Our adieus to New Sestros were not very painful, and on the evening of the same day the Termagant hove to off the bold and beautiful hills of Cape Mount. As the breeze and sun sank together, leaving a brilliant sky in the west, we descried from deck a couple of tall, raking masts relieved like cobwebs against the azure. From aloft, still more of the craft was visible, and from our lieutenant's report after a glance through his glass, there could be no doubt that the stranger was a slaver. Light as was the breeze, not a moment elapsed before the cruiser's jib was turned towards her natural enemy. For a while an ebb from the river and the faint night wind off shore, forced us seaward, yet at daylight we had gained so little on the chase, that she was still full seven miles distant. They who are familiar with naval life will appreciate the annoying suspense on the Termagant when dawn revealed the calm sea, quiet sky, and tempting but unapproachable prize. The well-known _pluck_ of our British tars was fired by the alluring vision, and nothing was heard about decks but prayers for a puff and whistling for a breeze. Meanwhile, Seagram, the surgeon, and purser were huddled together on the quarter, cursing a calm which deprived them of prize-money if not of promotion. Our master's mate and passed midshipman were absent in some of the brig's boats cruising off Gallinas or watching the roadstead of New Sestros. The trance continued till after breakfast, when our officers' impatience could no longer withstand the bait, and, though short of efficient boats, the yawl and lieutenant's gig were manned for a hazardous enterprise. The former was crammed with six sailors, two marines, and a supernumerary mate; while the gig, a mere fancy craft, was packed with five seamen and four marines under Seagram himself. Just as this flotilla shoved off, a rough boatswain begged leave to fit out my nutshell of a native canoe; and embarking with a couple of Kroomen, he squatted amidships, armed with a musket and cutlass! This expedition exhausted our stock of _nautical_ men so completely, that as Seagram crossed the gangway he commended the purser and surgeon to _my care, and left Her Majesty's brig in charge of the reformed slaver_! No sooner did the chase perceive our manoeuvre, than, running in her sweeps, she hoisted a Spanish flag and fired a warning cartridge. A faint hurrah answered the challenge, while our argonauts kept on their way, till, from deck, they became lost below the horizon. Presently, however, the boom of another gun, followed by repeated discharges, rolled through the quiet air from the Spaniard, and the look-out aloft reported our boats in retreat. Just at this moment, a light breeze gave headway to the Termagant, so that I was enabled to steer towards the prize, but before I could overhaul our warriors, the enemy had received the freshening gale, and, under every stitch of canvas, stood rapidly to sea. When Seagram regained his deck, he was bleeding profusely from a wound in the head received from a handspike while attempting to board. Besides this, two men were missing, while three had been seriously wounded by a shot that sunk the yawl. My gallant boatswain, however, returned unharmed, and, if I may believe the commander of the "Serea,"--whom I encountered some time after,--this daring sailor did more execution with his musket than all the marines put together. The _Kroo_ canoe dashed alongside with the velocity of her class, and, as a petty officer on the Spaniard bent over to sink the skiff with a ponderous top-block, our boatswain cleft his skull with a musket ball, and brought home the block as a trophy! In fact, Seagram confessed that the Spaniard behaved magnanimously; for the moment our yawl was sunk, Olivares cut adrift his boat, and bade the struggling swimmers return in it to their vessel. I have described this little affray not so much for its interest, but because it illustrates the vicissitudes of coast-life and the rapidity of their occurrence. Here was I, on the deck of a British man-of-war, in charge of her manoeuvres while in chase of a Spaniard, who, for aught I knew, might have been consigned to me for slaves! I gave my word to Seagram as he embarked, to manage his ship, and had I attained a position that would have enabled me to sink the "Serea," I would not have shrunk from my duty. Yet it afforded me infinite satisfaction to see the chase escape, for my heart smote me at taking arms against men who had probably broken bread at my board. CHAPTER LXVIII. Next day we recovered our anchorage opposite Cape Mount, and wound our way eight or ten miles up the river to the town of Toso, which was honored with the residence of King Fana-Toro. It did not require long to satisfy his majesty of the benefits to be derived from my plan. The news of the destruction of Gallinas, and of the voluntary surrender of my quarters at New Sestros, had spread like wildfire along the coast; so that when the African princes began to understand they were no longer to profit by unlawful traffic, they were willing enough not to lose _all_ their ancient avails, by compromising for a _legal_ commerce, under the sanction of national flags. I explained my projects to Fana-Toro in the fullest manner, offering him the most liberal terms. My propositions were forcibly supported by Prince Gray; and a cession of the Mount and its neighboring territory was finally made, under a stipulation that the purchase-money should be paid in presence of the negro's council, and the surrender of title witnessed by the Termagant's officers.[8] As soon as the contract was fully signed, sealed, and delivered, making Mr. Redman and myself proprietors, in fee-simple, of this beautiful region, I hastened in company with my naval friends to explore my little principality for a suitable town-site. We launched our boat on the waters of the noble lake Plitzogee at Toso, and after steering north-eastwardly for two hours under the pilotage of Prince Gray, entered a winding creek and penetrated its thickets of mangrove and palm, till the savage landed us on decayed steps and pavement made of _English brick_. At a short distance through the underwood, our conductor pointed out a denuded space which had once served as the foundation of an _English slave factory_; and when my companions hesitated to believe the prince's dishonorable charge on their nation, the negro confirmed it by pointing out, deeply carved in the bark of a neighboring tree, the name of:-- T. WILLIAMS, 1804. I took the liberty to compliment Seagram and the surgeon on the result of our exploration; and, after a hearty laugh at the denouement of the prince's search for a _lawful_ homestead, we plunged still deeper in the forest, but returned without finding a location to my taste. Next day we recommenced our exploration by land, and, in order to obtain a comprehensive view of my dominion, as far as the eye would reach, I proposed an ascent of the promontory of the Cape which lifts its head quite twelve hundred feet above the sea. A toilsome walk of hours brought us to the summit, but so dense was the foliage and so lofty the magnificent trees, that, even by climbing the tallest, my scope of vision was hardly increased. As we descended the slopes, however, towards the strait between the sea and lake, I suddenly came upon a rich, spacious level, flanked by a large brook of delicious water, and deciding instantly that it was an admirable spot for intercourse with the ocean as well as interior, I resolved that it should be the site of my future home. A tar was at hand to climb the loftiest palm, to strip its bushy head, and hoist the union-jack. Before sundown, I had taken solemn territorial possession, and baptized the future town "New Florence," in honor of my Italian birthplace. My next effort was to procure laborers, for whom I invoked the aid of Fana-Toro and the neighboring chiefs. During two days, forty negroes, whom I hired for their food and a _per diem_ of twenty cents, wrought faithfully under my direction; but the constant task of felling trees, digging roots, and clearing ground, was so unusual for savages, that the entire gang, with the exception of a dozen, took their pay in rum and tobacco and quitted me. A couple of days more, devoted to such endurance, drove off the remaining twelve, so that on the fifth day of my philanthropic enterprise I was left in my solitary hut with a single attendant. I had, alas! undertaken a task altogether unsuited to people whose idea of earthly happiness and duty is divided between palm-oil, concubinage, and sunshine! I found it idle to remonstrate with the king about the indolence of his subjects. Fana-Toro entertained very nearly the same opinion as his slaves. He declared,--and perhaps very sensibly,--that white men were fools to work from sunrise to sunset every day of their lives; nor could he comprehend how negroes were expected to follow their example; nay, it was not the "fashion of Africa;" and, least of all, could his majesty conceive how a man possessed of so much merchandise and property, would voluntarily undergo the toils I was preparing for the future! The king's censure and surprise were not encouraging; yet I had so long endured the natural indolence of negrodom, that I hardly expected either a different reply or influential support, from his majesty. Nevertheless, I was not disheartened. I remembered the old school-boy maxim, _non vi sed sæpe cadendo_, and determined to effect by degrees what I could not achieve at a bound. For a while I tried the effect of higher wages; but an increase of rum, tobacco, and coin, could not string the nerves or cord the muscles of Africa. Four men's labor was not equivalent to one day's work in Europe or America. The negro's philosophy was both natural and self-evident:--_why should he work for pay when he could live without it?_--_labor could not give him more sunshine, palm-oil, or wives; and, as for grog and tobacco, they might be had without the infringement of habits which had almost the sacredness of religious institutions._ With such slender prospects of prosperity at New Florence, I left a man in charge of my hut, and directing him to get on as well as he could, I visited Monrovia, to look after the merchandise that had been saved from the wreck of New Sestros. FOOTNOTE: [8] As the document granting this beautiful headland and valuable trading post is of some interest, I have added a copy of the instrument: "KNOW ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, that I, FANA-TORO, King of Cape Mount and its rivers, in the presence, and with the full consent and approbation of my principal chiefs in council assembled, in consideration of a mutual friendship existing between GEORGE CLAVERING REDMAN, THEODORE CANOT & CO., British subjects, and myself, the particulars whereof are under-written, do, for myself, my heirs and successors, give and grant unto the said George Clavering Redman, Theodore Canot & Co., their heirs and assigns in perpetuity, all land under the name of CAPE MOUNT, extending, on the south and east sides, to _Little Cape Mount_, and on the north-west side to _Sugarei River_, comprised with the islands, lakes, brooks, forests, trees, waters, mines, minerals, rights, members, and appurtenances thereto belonging or appertaining, and all wild and tame beasts and other animals thereon; TO HAVE AND TO HOLD the said cape, rivers, islands, with both sides of the river and other premises hereby granted unto the said G. CLAVERING REDMAN, T. CANOT & CO., their heirs and assigns for ever, subject to the authority and dominion of HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, her heirs and successors. "And I, also, give and grant unto the said G. C. REDMAN, T. CANOT & CO., the sole and exclusive rights of traffic with my Nation and People, and with all those tributary to me, and I hereby engage to afford my assistance and protection to the said party, and to all persons who may settle on the said cape, rivers, islands, lakes, and both sides of the river, by their consent, wishing peace and friendship between my nation and all persons belonging to the said firm. "Given under my hand and seal, at the town of FANAMA, this, twenty-third day of February, one thousand eight hundred and forty-one. his "KING X FANA-TORO. (L. S.) mark. his "PRINCE X GRAY. (L. S.) mark. "Witnesses, "HY. FROWD SEAGRAM, R. N. } "GEO. D. NOBLE, Clerk in Charge. } _of Her Majesty's_ "THOS. CRAWFORD, Surgeon. } _brig Termagant._" I paid King Fana-Toro and his chiefs in council the following merchandise in exchange for his territory: six casks of rum; twenty muskets; twenty quarter-kegs powder; twenty pounds tobacco; twenty pieces white cottons; thirty pieces blue cottons; twenty iron bars; twenty cutlasses; twenty wash-basins; and twenty each of several other articles of trifling value. CHAPTER LXIX. I might fairly be accused of ingratitude if I passed without notice the Colony of Liberia and its capital, whose hospitable doors were opened widely to receive an exile, when the barbarians of New Sestros drove me from that settlement. It is not my intention to tire the reader with an account of Liberia, for I presume that few are unacquainted with the thriving condition of those philanthropic lodgments, which hem the western coast of Africa for near eight hundred miles. In my former visits to Monrovia, I had been regarded as a dangerous intruder, who was to be kept for ever under the vigilant eyes of government officials. When my character as an established slaver was clearly ascertained, the port was interdicted to my vessels, and my appearance in the town itself prohibited. Now, however, when I came as a fugitive from violence, and with the acknowledged relinquishment of my ancient traffic, every hand was extended in friendship and commiseration. The governor and council allowed the landing of my rescued slave-goods on deposit, while the only two servants who continued faithful were secured to me as apprentices by the court. Scarcely more than two months ago, the people of this quiet village were disturbed from sleep by the roll of drums beating for recruits to march against "_the slaver Canot_;" to-day I dine with the chief of the colony and am welcomed as a brother! This is another of those remarkable vicissitudes that abound in this work, and which the critics, in all likelihood, may consider too often repeated. To my mind, however, it is only another illustration of the probability of the odd and the strangeness of _truth_! I had no difficulty in finding all sorts of workmen in Monrovia, for the colonists brought with them all the mechanical ingenuity and thrift that characterize the American people. In four months, with the assistance of a few carpenters, sawyers and blacksmiths, I built a charming little craft of twenty-five tons, which, in honor of my British protector, I dubbed the "Termagant." I notice the construction of this vessel, merely to show that the colony and its people were long ago capable of producing every thing that may be required by a commercial state in the tropics. When my cutter touched the water, she was indebted to foreign countries for nothing but her copper, chains and sails, every thing else being the product of Africa and _colonial_ labor. Had nature bestowed a better harbor on the Mesurado river, and afforded a safer entrance for large vessels, Monrovia would now be second only to Sierra Leone. Following the beautiful border of the Saint Paul's, a few miles from Monrovia the eye rests on extensive plains teeming with luxurious vegetation. The amplest proof has been given of the soil's fertility in the production of coffee, sugar, cotton and rice. I have frequently seen cane fourteen feet high, and as thick as any I ever met with in the Indies. Coffee-trees grow much larger than on this side of the Atlantic; single trees often yielding sixteen pounds, which is about seven more than the average product in the West Indies.[H] Throughout the entire jurisdiction between Cape Mount and Cape Palmas, to the St. Andrew's, the soil is equally prolific. Oranges, lemons, cocoanuts, pine-apples, mangoes, plums, granadillas, sour and sweet sop, plantains, bananas, guyavas, tamarinds, ginger, sweet potatoes, yams, cassava, and corn, are found in abundance; while the industry of American settlers has lately added the bread-fruit, rose apple, patanga, cantelope, water-melon, aguacate and mulberry. Garden culture produces every thing that may be desired at the most luxurious table. Much has been said of the "pestilential climate of Africa," and the certain doom of those who venture within the spell of its miasma. I dare not deny that the coast is scourged by dangerous maladies, and that nearly all who take up their abode in the colonies are obliged to undergo the ordeal of a fever which assails them with more or less virulence, according to the health, constitution, or condition of the patient. Yet I think, if the colonization records are read with a candid spirit, they will satisfy unprejudiced persons that the mortality of emigrants has diminished nearly one half, in consequence of the sanitary care exercised by the colonial authorities during the period of acclimation. The colonies are now amply supplied with lodgings for new comers, where every thing demanded for comfort, cure, or alleviation, is at hand in abundance. Colored physicians, who studied their art in America, have acquainted themselves with the local distempers, and proved their skill by successful practice. Nor is there now the difficulty or expense which, twelve years ago, before the destruction of the neighboring slave marts, made it almost impossible to furnish convalescents with that delicate nourishment which was needed to re-establish their vigor. * * * * * It may not be amiss if I venture to hope that these colonial experiments, which have been fostered for the civilization of Africa as well as for the amelioration of the American negro's lot, will continue to receive the support of all good men. Some persons assert that the race is incapable of self-government beyond the tribal state, and _then_ only through fear; while others allege, that no matter what care may be bestowed on African intellect, it is unable to produce or sustain the highest results of modern civilization. It would not be proper for any one to speak oracularly on this mooted point; yet, in justice to the negroes who never left their forests, as well as to those who have imbibed, for more than a generation, the civilization of Europe or America, I may unhesitatingly say, that the colonial trial has thus far been highly promising. I have often been present at difficult councils and "_palavers_" among the _wild_ tribes, when questions arose which demanded a calm and skilful judgment, and in almost every instance, the decision was characterized by remarkable good sense and equity. In most of the _colonies_ the men who are intrusted with local control, a few years since were either slaves in America, or employed in menial tasks which it was almost hopeless they could escape. Liberia, at present, may boast of several individuals, who, but for their caste, might adorn society; while they who have personally known Roberts, Lewis, Benedict, J. B. McGill, Teage, Benson of Grand Bassa, and Dr. McGill of Cape Palmas, can bear testimony that nature has endowed numbers of the colored race with the best qualities of humanity. Nevertheless, the prosperity, endurance and influence of the colonies, are still problems. I am anxious to see the second generation of the colonists in Africa. I wish to know what will be the force and development of the negro mind on its native soil,--civilized, but cut off from all instruction, influence, or association with the white mind. I desire to understand, precisely, whether the negro's faculties are original or imitative, and consequently, whether he can stand alone in absolute independence, or is only respectable when reflecting a civilization that is cast on him by others. If the descendants of the present colonists, increased by an immense immigration _of all classes and qualities_ during the next twenty-five years, shall sustain the young nation with that industrial energy and political dignity that mark its population in our day, we shall hail the realized fact with infinite delight. We will rejoice, not only because the emancipated negro may thenceforth possess a realm wherein his rights shall be sacred, but because the civilization with which the colonies must border the African continent, will, year by year, sink deeper and deeper into the heart of the interior, till barbarism and Islamism will fade before the light of Christianity. But the test and trial have yet to come. The colonist of our time is an exotic under glass,--full, as yet, of sap and stamina drawn from his native America, but nursed with care and exhibited as the efflorescence of modern philanthropy. Let us hope that this wholesome guardianship will not be too soon or suddenly withdrawn by the parent societies; but that, while the state of pupilage shall not be continued till the immigrants and their children are emasculated by lengthened dependence, it will be upheld until the republic shall exhibit such signs of manhood as cannot deceive the least hopeful. FOOTNOTE: [H] I wish to confirm and fortify this statement in regard to the value of coffee culture in the colonies, by the observation of Dr. J. W. Lugenbeel, late colonial physician and United States agent in Liberia. The Doctor gave "particular attention to observations and investigations respecting coffee culture in Liberia." "I have frequently seen," he says, "isolated trees growing in different parts of Liberia, which yielded from ten to twenty pounds of clean dry coffee at one picking; and, however incredible it may appear, it is a fact that one tree in Monrovia yielded four and a half bushels of coffee in the hull, at one time, which, when dried and shelled, weighed thirty-one pounds. This is the largest quantity I ever heard of, and the largest tree I ever saw, being upwards of twenty feet high and of proportionate dimensions." The Doctor is of opinion, however, that as the coffee-tree begins to bear at the end of its fourth year, an _average_ yield at the end of the sixth year may be calculated on of at least four pounds. Three hundred trees may be planted on an acre, giving each twelve feet, and in six years the culture will become profitable as well as easy. CHAPTER LXX. I returned to Cape Mount from the colony with several American mechanics and a fresh assortment of merchandise for traffic with the natives. During my absence, the agent I left in charge had contrived, with great labor, to clear a large space in the forest for my projected establishment, so that with the aid of my Americans, I was soon enabled to give the finishing touch to New Florence. While the buildings were erecting, I induced a number of natives, by force of double pay and the authority of their chiefs, to form and cultivate a garden, comprising the luxuries of Europe and America as well as of the tropics, which, in after days, secured the admiration of many a naval commander. As soon as my dwelling was nicely completed, I removed my furniture from the colony; and, still continuing to drum through the country for business with the Africans, I despatched my Kroomen and pilots on board of every cruiser that appeared in the offing, to supply them with provisions and refreshments. An event took place about this time which may illustrate the manner in which a branch of the slave-trade is carried on along the coast. Her Britannic Majesty's sloop of war L---- was in the neighborhood, and landed three of her officers at my quarters to spend a day or two in hunting the wild boars with which the adjacent country was stocked. But the rain poured down in such torrents, that, instead of a hunt, I proposed a dinner to my jovial visitors. Soon after our soup had been despatched on the piazza, there was a rush of natives into the yard, and I was informed that one of our Bush chiefs had brought in a noted gambler, whom he threatened either to sell or kill. It struck me instantly that this would be a good opportunity to give my British friends a sight of native character, at the same time that they might be enabled, if so disposed, to do a generous action. Accordingly, I directed my servant to bring the Bushman and gambler before us; and as the naked victim, with a rope round his neck, was dragged by the savage to our table, I perceived that it was Soma, who had formerly been in my service on the coast. The vagabond was an excellent interpreter and connected with the king, but I had been obliged to discharge him in consequence of his dissipated habits, and especially for having gambled away his youngest sister, whose release from Gallinas I had been instrumental in securing. "I have brought Soma to your store-keeper," said the Bushman, "and I want him to buy the varlet. Soma has been half the day gambling with me. First of all he lost his gun, then his cap, then his cloth, then his right leg, then his left, then his arms, and, last of all, his head. I have given his friends a chance to redeem the dog, but as they had bought him half a dozen times already, there's not a man in the town that will touch him. Soma _never_ pays his debts; and now, Don Téodore, I have brought him here, and if _you_ don't buy him, I'll take him to the water-side and _cut his throat_!" There,--with an imploring countenance, bare as he came into the world, a choking cord round his throat, and with pinioned arms,--stood the trembling gambler, as I glanced in vain from the Bushman to the officers, in expectation of his release by those philanthropists! As Soma spoke English, I told him in our language, that I had no pity for his fate, and that he must take the chances he had invoked. Twenty dollars would have saved his life, and yet the British did not melt! "Take him off," said I sternly, to the Bushman, "and use him as you choose!"--but at the same moment, a wink to my interpreter sufficed, and the Bushman returned to the forest with tobacco and rum, while Soma was saved from slaughter. It is by no means improbable that the gambler is now playing _monte_ on some plantation in Cuba. * * * * * I continued my labors at New Florence without intermission for several months, but when I cast up my account, I found the wages and cost of building so enormous, that my finances would soon be exhausted. Accordingly, by the advice of my friend Seagram, as well as of Captain Tucker, who commanded on the station, I petitioned Lord Stanley to grant me one hundred recaptured Africans to till my grounds and learn the rudiments of agricultural industry. Some time elapsed before an answer was sent, but when it came, my prospects were dashed to the earth. "GOVERNMENT HOUSE, SIERRA LEONE, "_28th October, 1843_. "SIR: "I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your letter dated August last, inclosing the copy of a petition, the original of which you had transmitted to the acting Lieutenant Governor Ferguson, for the purpose of having it forwarded to her Majesty's Government. "In reply, I have to acquaint you, that by the receipt of a despatch from the Rt. Hon. Lord Stanley, Secretary of State for the Colonies, bearing date 8th April 1842, his Lordship states that he cannot sanction a compliance with your request to have a number of liberated Africans, as apprentices, in tilling your grounds; and further, that he could not recognize the purchase of Cape Mount, as placing that district under the protection and sovereignty of the British crown. "I beg to add, that I am glad to be informed by Captain Oake that the vessel, alluded to in your letter, which you had been unable to despatch for want of a license, had obtained one for that purpose from the governor of Monrovia. "I am, sir, your obedient servant, "G. MAC DONALD, "_Governor_. "_To_ MR. THEODORE CANOT." The picture that had been painted by my imagination with so many bright scenes and philanthropic hopes, fell as I finished this epistle. It not only clouded my future prospects of lawful commerce, but broke off, at once, the correspondence with my generous friend Redman in London. As I dropped the missive on the table, I ordered the palm-tree on which I had first unfurled the British flag to be cut down; and next day, on a tall pole, in full view of the harbor, I hoisted a tri-colored banner, adorned by a central star, which I caused to be baptized, in presence of Fana-Toro, with a salvo of twenty guns. I am not naturally of a mischievous or revengeful temper, but I can scarcely find language to express the mortification I experienced when Lord Stanley thwarted my honest intentions, by his refusal to protect the purchase whereon I had firmly resolved to be an ally and friend, in concentrating a lawful commerce. I was especially disgusted by this mistrust, or mistake, after the flattering assurances with which my design had, from the first, been cherished by the British officers on the station. I may confess that, for a moment, I almost repented the confidence I had reposed in the British lion, and was at a loss whether to abandon Cape Mount and return to my former traffic, or to till the ground and play waterman to the fleet. After proper deliberation, however, I resolved to take the plough for my device; and before Christmas, I had already ordered from England a large supply of agricultural implements and of every thing requisite for elaborate husbandry. After this, I purchased forty youths to be employed on a coffee plantation, and to drag my ploughs till I obtained animals to replace them. In a short time I had abundance of land cleared, and an over-seer's house erected for an old barracoonier, who, I am grieved to say, turned out but a sorry farmer. He had no idea of systematic labor or discipline save by the lash, so that in a month, four of his gang were on the sick list, and five had deserted. I replaced the Spaniard by an American colored man, who, in turn, made too free with my people and neglected the plantations. My own knowledge of agriculture was so limited, that unless I fortified every enterprise by constant reference to books, I was unable to direct my hands with skill; and, accordingly, with all these mishaps to my commerce and tillage, I became satisfied that it was easier to plough the ocean than the land. Still I was not disheartened. My trade, on a large scale, with the interior, and my agriculture had both failed; yet I resolved to try the effect of traffic in a humble way, combined with such _mechanical_ pursuits as would be profitable on the coast. Accordingly, I divided a gang of forty well-drilled negroes into two sections, retaining the least intelligent on the farm, while the brighter youths were brought to the landing. Here I laid out a ship-yard, blacksmith's shop, and sawpit, placing at the head of each, a Monrovian colonist to instruct my slaves. In the mean time the neighboring natives, as well as the people some distance in the interior, were apprised by my runners of the new factory I was forming at Cape Mount. By the return of the dry season our establishment gave signs of renewed vitality. Within the fences of New Florence there were already twenty-five buildings and a population of one hundred, and nothing was wanting but a stock of cattle, which I soon procured from the Kroo country. Thus, for a long time all things went on satisfactorily, not only with the natives, but with foreign traders and cruisers, till a native war embarrassed my enterprise, and brought me in contact with the enemies of King Fana-Toro, of whose realm and deportment I must give some account. CHAPTER LXXI. The Africans who cluster about the bold headland of Cape Mount,--which, in fair weather, greets the mariner full thirty miles at sea,--belong to the Vey tribe, and are in no way inferior to the best classes of natives along the coast. Forty or fifty families constitute "a town," the government of which is generally in the hands of the oldest man, who administers justice by a "palaver" held in public, wherein the seniors of the settlement are alone consulted. These villages subject themselves voluntarily to the protectorate of larger towns, whose chief arbitrates as sovereign without appeal in all disputes among towns under his wardship; yet, as his judgments are not always pleasing, the dissatisfied desert their huts, and, emigrating to another jurisdiction, build their village anew within its limits. The Veys of both sexes are well-built, erect, and somewhat stately. Their faith differs but little from that prevalent among the Soosoos of the Rio Pongo. They believe in a superior power that may be successfully invoked through _gree-grees_ and _fetiches_, but which is generally obstinate or mischievous. It is their idea that the good are rewarded after death by transformation into some favorite animal; yet their entire creed is not subject to any definite description, for they blend the absurdities of Mahometanism with those of paganism, and mellow the whole by an acknowledgment of a supreme deity. The Vey, like other _uncontaminated_ Ethiopians, is brought up in savage neglect by his parents, crawling in perfect nakedness about the villages, till imitation teaches him the use of raiment, which, in all likelihood, he first of all obtains by theft. There is no difference between the sexes during their early years. A sense of shame or modesty seems altogether unknown or disregarded; nor is it unusual to find ten or a dozen of both genders huddled promiscuously beneath a roof whose walls are not more than fifteen feet square. True to his nature, a Vey bushman rises in the morning to swallow his rice and cassava, and crawls back to his mat which is invariably placed in the sunshine, where he _simmers_ till noontide, when another wife serves him with a second meal. The remainder of daylight is passed either in gossip or a second _siesta_, till, at sundown, his other wives wash his body, furnish a third meal, and stretch his wearied limbs before a blazing fire to refresh for the toils of the succeeding day. In fact, the slaves of a household, together with its females, form the entire working class of Africa, and in order to indoctrinate the gentler sex in its future toils and duties, there seems to be a sort of national seminary which is known as the Gree-gree-bush. The Gree-gree-bush is a secluded spot or grove of considerable extent in the forest, apart from dwellings and cultivated land though adjacent to villages, which is considered as consecrated ground and forbidden to the approach of men. The establishment within this precinct consists of a few houses, with an extensive area for exercise. It is governed chiefly by an old woman of superior skill and knowledge, to whose charge the girls of a village are intrusted as soon as they reach the age of ten or twelve. There are various opinions of the use and value of this institution in the primitive polity of Africa. By some writers it is treated as a religious cloister for the protection of female chastity, while by others it is regarded as a school of licentiousness. From my own examination of the establishment, I am quite satisfied that a line drawn between these extremes will, most probably, characterize the "bush" with accuracy, and that what was originally a conservative seclusion, has degenerated greatly under the lust of tropical passions. As the procession of novices who are about to enter the grove approaches the sanctuary, music and dancing are heard and seen on every side. As soon as the maidens are received, they are taken by the _gree-gree_ women to a neighboring stream, where they are washed, and undergo an operation which is regarded as a sort of circumcision. Anointed from head to foot with palm-oil, they are next reconducted to their home in the gree-gree bush. Here, under strict watch, they are maintained by their relatives or those who are in treaty for them as wives, until they reach the age of puberty. At this epoch the important fact is announced by the gree-gree woman to the purchaser or future husband, who, it is expected, will soon prepare to take her from the retreat. Whenever his _new_ house is ready for the bride's reception, it is proclaimed by the ringing of bells and vociferous cries during night. Next day search is made by females through the woods, to ascertain whether intruders are lurking about, but when the path is ascertained to be clear, the girl is forthwith borne to a rivulet, where she is washed, anointed, and clad in her best attire. From thence she is borne, amid singing, drumming, shouting, and firing, in the arms of her female attendants, till her unsoiled feet are deposited on the husband's floor.[9] I believe this institution exists throughout a large portion of Africa, and such is the desire to place females within the bush, that poor parents who cannot pay the initiatory fee, raise subscriptions among their friends to obtain the requisite slave whose gift entitles their child to admission. Sometimes, it is said, that this _human ticket is stolen_ to effect the desired purpose, and that no native power can recover the lost slave when once within the sacred precincts. The gree-gree-bush is not only a resort of the virgin, but of the wife, in those seasons when approaching maternity indicates need of repose and care. In a few hours, the robust mother issues with her new-born child, and after a plunge into the nearest brook, returns to the domestic drudgery which I have already described. * * * * * In the time of Fana-Toro, Toso was the royal residence where his majesty played sovereign and protector over six towns and fifteen villages. His government was generally considered patriarchal. When I bought Cape Mount, the king numbered "seventy-seven rains," equivalent to so many years;--he was small, wiry, meagre, erect, and proud of the respect he universally commanded. His youth was notorious among the tribes for intrepidity, and I found that he retained towards enemies a bitter resentment that often led to the commission of atrocious cruelties. It was not long after my instalment at the Cape, that I accidentally witnessed the ferocity of this chief. Some trifling "country affair" caused me to visit the king; but upon landing at Toso I was told he was abroad. The manner of my informant, however, satisfied me that the message was untrue; and accordingly, with the usual confidence of a "white man" in Africa, I searched his premises till I encountered him in the "palaver-house." The large inclosure was crammed with a mob of savages, all in perfect silence around the king, who, in an infuriate manner, with a bloody, knife in his hand, and a foot on the dead body of a negro, was addressing the carcass. By his side stood a pot of hissing oil, in which the heart of his enemy was frying! My sudden and, perhaps, improper entrance, seemed to exasperate the infidel, who, calling me to his side, knelt on the corpse, and digging it repeatedly with his knife, exclaimed with trembling passion, that it was his bitterest and oldest foe's! For twenty years he had butchered his people, sold his subjects, violated his daughters, slain his sons, and burnt his towns;--and with each charge, the savage enforced his assertion by a stab. I learned that the slaughtered captive was too brave and wary to be taken alive in open conflict. He had been kidnapped by treachery, and as he could not be forced to walk to Toso, the king's trappers had cooped him in a huge basket, which they bore on their shoulders to the Cape. No sooner was the brute in his captor's presence, than he broke a silence of three days by imprecations on Fana-Toro. In a short space, his fate was decided in the scene I had witnessed, while his body was immediately burnt to prevent it from taking the form of some ferocious beast which might vex the remaining years of his royal executioner! This was the only instance of Fana-Toro's barbarity that came under my notice, and in its perpetration he merely followed the example of his ancestors in obedience to African ferocity. Yet, of his intrepidity and nobler endurance, I will relate an anecdote which was told me by reliable persons. Some twenty years before my arrival at the Cape, large bands of mercenary bushmen had joined his enemies along the beach, and after desolating his territory, sat down to beleaguer the stockade of Toso. For many a day thirst and hunger were quietly suffered under the resolute command of the king, but at length, when their pangs became unendurable, and the people demanded a surrender, Fana-Toro strode into the "palaver-house," commanding a _sortie_ with his famished madmen. The warriors protested against the idea, for their ammunition was exhausted. Then arose a wild shout for the king's deposition and the election of a chief to succeed him. A candidate was instantly found and installed; but no sooner had he been chosen, than Fana-Toro,--daring the new prince to prove a power of _endurance_ equal to his own,--plunged his finger in a bowl of boiling oil, and held it over the fire, without moving a muscle, till the flesh was crisped to the bone. It is hardly necessary to say that the sovereign was at once restored to his rights, or that, availing himself of the fresh enthusiasm, he rushed upon his besiegers, broke their lines, routed the mercenaries, and compelled his rival to sue for peace. Until the day of his death, that mutilated hand was the boast of his people. The Vey people mark with some ceremony the extremes of human existence--birth and death. Both events are honored with feasting, drinking, dancing, and firing; and the descendants of the dead sometimes impoverish, and even ruin themselves, to inter a venerable parent with pomp. Prince Gray, the son of Fana-Toro, whom I have already mentioned, died during my occupation of Cape Mount. I was at Mesurado when the event happened, but, as soon as I heard it, I resolved to unite with his relations in the last rites to his memory. Gray was not only a good negro and kind neighbor, but, as my fast friend in "country matters," his death was a personal calamity. The breath was hardly out of the prince's body, when his sons, who owned but little property and had no slaves for sale, hastened to my agent, and pledged their town of Panama for means to defray his funeral. In the mean time, the corpse, swathed in twenty large country sheets, and wrapped in twenty pieces of variegated calico, was laid out in a hut, where it was constantly watched and _smoked_ by three of the favorite widows. After two months devotion to moaning and _seasoning_, notice was sent forty miles round the country, summoning the tribes to the final ceremony. On the appointed day the corpse was brought from the hut, _a perfect mass of bacon_. As the procession moved towards the palaver-house, the prince's twenty wives--almost entirely denuded, their heads shaved, and their bodies smeared with dust--were seen following his remains. The eldest spouse appeared covered with self-inflicted bruises, burns, and gashes--all indications of sorrow and future uselessness. The crowd reached the apartment, singing the praises of the defunct in chorus, when the body was laid on a new mat, covered with his war shirt, while the parched lump that indicated his head was crowned with the remains of a fur hat. All the amulets, charms, gree-grees, fetiches and flummery of the prince were duly bestowed at his sides. While these arrangements were making within, his sons stood beneath an adjoining verandah, to receive the condolences of the invited guests, who, according to custom, made their bows and deposited a tribute of rice, palm-oil, palm-wine, or other luxuries, to help out the merry-making. When I heard of the prince's death at Monrovia, I resolved not to return without a testimonial of respect for my ally, and ordered an enormous coffin to be prepared without delay. In due time the huge chest was made ready, covered with blue cotton, studded with brass nails, and adorned with all the gilded ornaments I could find in Monrovia. Besides this splendid sarcophagus, my craft from the colony was ballasted with four bullocks and several barrels of rum, as a contribution to the funeral. I had timed my arrival at Fanama, so as to reach the landing about ten o'clock on the morning of burial; and, after a salute from my brazen guns, I landed the bullocks, liquor, and coffin, and marched toward the princely gates. The unexpected appearance of the white friend of their father, lord, and husband, was greeted by the family with a loud wail, and, as a mark of respect, I was instantly lifted in the arms of the weeping women, and deposited on the mat beside the corpse. Here I rested, amid cries and lamentations, till near noon, when the bullocks were slaughtered, and their blood offered in wash-bowls to the dead. As soon as this was over, the shapeless mass was stowed in the coffin without regard to position, and borne by six carriers to the beach, where it was buried in a cluster of cotton-woods. On our return to Fanama from the grave, the eldest son of the deceased was instantly saluted as prince. From this moment the festivities began, and, at sundown, the twenty widows reappeared upon the ground, clad in their choicest raiment, their shaven skulls anointed with oil, and their limbs loaded with every bead and bracelet they could muster. Then began the partition of these disconsolate relicts among the royal family. Six were selected by the new prince, who divided thirteen among his brothers and kinsmen, but gave his mother to his father-in-law. As soon as the allotment was over, his highness very courteously offered me the choice of his _six_, in return for my gifts; but as I never formed a family tie with natives, I declined the honor, as altogether too overwhelming! FOOTNOTE: [9] See Maryland Colonization Journal, vol. i., n. s., p. 212. CHAPTER LXXII. When I was once comfortably installed at my motley establishment, and, under the management of Colonists, had initiated the native workmen into tolerable skill with the adze, saw, sledgehammer and forge, I undertook to build a brig of one hundred tons. In six months, people came from far and near to behold the mechanical marvels of Cape Mount. Meanwhile, my plantation went on slowly, while my _garden_ became a matter of curiosity to all the intelligent coasters and cruisers, though I could never enlighten the natives as to the value of the "foreign grass" which I cultivated so diligently. They admired the symmetry of my beds, the richness of my pine-apples, the luxurious splendor of my sugar-cane, the abundance of my coffee, and the cool fragrance of the arbors with which I adorned the lawn; but they would never admit the use of my exotic vegetables. In order to water my premises, I turned the channel of a brook, surrounding the garden with a perfect canal; and, as its sides were completely laced with an elaborate wicker-work of willows, the aged king and crowds of his followers came to look upon the Samsonian task as one of the wonders of Africa. "What is it," exclaimed Fana-Toro, as he beheld the deflected water-course, "that a white man cannot do!" After this, his majesty inspected all my plants, and shouted again with surprise at the toil we underwent to satisfy our appetites. The use or worth of _flowers_, of which I had a rare and beautiful supply, he could never divine; but his chief amazement was still devoted to our daily expenditure of time, strength, and systematic toil, when rice and palm-oil would grow wild while we were sleeping! * * * * * It will be seen from this sketch of my domestic comforts and employment, that New Florence prospered in every thing but _farming_ and _trade_. At first it was my hope, that two or three years of perseverance would enable me to open a lawful traffic with the interior; but I soon discovered that the slave-trade was alone thought of by the natives, who only bring the neighboring produce to the beach, when their captives are ready for a market. I came, moreover, to the conclusion that the interior negroes about Cape Mount had no commerce with Eastern tribes except for slaves, and consequently that its small river will never create marts like those which have direct communications by water with the heart of a rich region, and absorb its gold, ivory, wax, and hides. To meet these difficulties, I hastened the building of my vessel _as a coaster_. About this time, an American craft called the A----, arrived in my neighborhood. She was loaded with tobacco, calicoes, rum, and powder. Her captain who was unskilled in coast-trade, and ignorant of Spanish, engaged me to act as supercargo for him to Gallinas. In a very short period I disposed of his entire investment. The trim and saucy rig of this Yankee clipper bewitched the heart of a Spanish trader who happened to be among the _lagunes_, and an offer was forthwith made, through me, for her purchase. The bid was accepted at once, and the day before Christmas fixed as the period of her delivery, after a trip to the Gaboon. In contracting to furnish this slaver with a craft and the necessary apparatus for his cargo, it would be folly for me to deny that I was dipping once more into my ancient trade; yet, on reflection, I concluded that in covering the vessel for a moment with my name, I was no more amenable to rebuke, than the respectable merchants of Sierra Leone and elsewhere who passed hardly a day without selling, to notorious slavers, such merchandise as could be used _alone_ in slave-wars or slave-trade. It is probable that the sophism soothed my conscience at the moment, though I could never escape the promise that sealed my agreement with Lieutenant Seagram. The appointed day arrived, and my smoking semaphores announced the brigantine's approach to Sugarei, three miles from Cape Mount. The same evening the vessel was surrendered to me by the American captain, who landed his crew and handed over his flag and papers. As soon as I was in charge, no delay was made to prepare for the reception of freight; and by sunrise I resigned her to the Spaniard, who immediately embarked seven hundred negroes, and landed them in Cuba in twenty-seven days. Till now the British cruisers had made Cape Mount their friendly rendezvous, but the noise of this shipment in my neighborhood, and my refusal to explain or converse on the subject, gave umbrage to officers who had never failed to supply themselves from my grounds and larder. In fact I was soon marked as an enemy of the squadron, while our intercourse dwindled to the merest shadow. In the course of a week, the Commander on the African station, himself, hove to off the Cape, and summoning me on board, concluded a petulant conversation by remarking that "a couple of men like Monsieur Canot would make work enough in Africa for the whole British squadron!" I answered the compliment with a profound _salaam_, and went over the Penelope's side satisfied that my friendship was at an end with her Majesty's cruisers. * * * * * The portion of Cape Mount whereon I pitched my tent, had been so long depopulated by the early wars against Fana-Toro, that the wild beasts reasserted their original dominion over the territory. The forest was full of leopards, wild cats, cavallis or wild boars, and ourang-outangs. Very soon after my arrival, a native youth in my employ had been severely chastised for misconduct, and in fear of repetition, fled to the mount after supplying himself with a basket of cassava. As his food was sufficient for a couple of days, we thought he might linger in the wood till the roots were exhausted, and then return to duty. But three days elapsed without tidings from the truant. On the fourth, a diligent search disclosed his corpse in the forest, every limb dislocated and covered with bites apparently made by human teeth. It was the opinion of the natives that the child had been killed by ourang-outangs, nor can I doubt their correctness, for when I visited the scene of the murder, the earth for a large space around, was covered with the footprints of the beast and scattered with the skins of its favorite esculent. I was more annoyed, however, at first, by leopards than any other animal. My cattle could not stray beyond the fences, nor could my laborers venture abroad at any time without weapons. I made use of spring-traps, pit-fall, and various expedients to purify the forest; but such was the cunning or agility of our nimble foes that they all escaped. The only mode by which I succeeded in freeing the _homestead_ of their ravages, was by arming the muzzle of a musket with a slice of meat which was attached by a string to the trigger, so that the load and the food were discharged into the leopard's mouth at the same moment. Thus, by degrees as my settlement grew, the beasts receded from the promontory and its adjacent grounds; and in a couple of years, the herds were able to roam where they pleased without danger. Cape Mount had long been deserted by elephants, but about forty miles from my dwelling, on the upper forests of the lake, the noble animal might still be hunted; and whenever the natives were fortunate enough to "bag" a specimen, I was sure to be remembered in its division. If the prize proved a male, I received the feet and trunk, but if it turned out of the gentler gender, I was honored with the udder, as a royal _bonne-bouche_. [Illustration: AN ELEPHANT HUNT.] In Africa a slaughtered elephant is considered public property by the neighboring villagers, all of whom have a right to carve the giant till his bones are bare. A genuine sportsman claims nothing but the ivory and tail, the latter being universally a perquisite of the king. Yet I frequently found that associations were made among the natives to capture this colossal beast and his valuable tusks. Upon these occasions, a club was formed on the basis of a whaling cruise, while a single but well-known hunter was chosen to do execution. One man furnished the muskets, another supplied the powder, a third gave the iron bolts for balls, a fourth made ready the provender, while a fifth despatched a bearer with the armament. As soon as the outfit was completed, the huntsman's _juju_ and _fetiche_ were invoked for good luck, and he departed under an escort of wives and associates. An African elephant is smaller, as well as more cunning and wild, than the Asiatic. Accordingly, the sportsman is often obliged to circumvent his game during several days, for it is said that in populous districts, its instincts are so keen as to afford warning of the neighborhood of fire-arms, even at extraordinary distances. The common and most effectual mode of enticing an elephant within reach of a ball, is to strew the forest for several miles with _pine-apples_, whose flavor and fragrance infallibly bewitch him. By degrees, he tracks and nibbles the fruit from slice to slice, till, lured within the hunter's retreat, he is despatched from the branches of a lofty tree by repeated shots at his capacious forehead. Sometimes it happens that four or five discharges with the wretched powder used in Africa fail to slay the beast, who escapes from the jungle and dies afar from the encounter. When this occurs, an attendant is despatched for a reinforcement, and I have seen a whole settlement go forth _en masse_ to search for the monster that will furnish food for many a day. Sometimes the crowd is disappointed, for the wounds have been slight and the animal is seen no more. Occasionally, a dying elephant will linger a long time, and is only discovered by the buzzards hovering above his body. Then it is that the bushmen, guided by the vultures, haste to the forest, and fall upon the putrid flesh with more avidity than birds of prey. Battles have been fought on the carcass of an elephant, and many a slave, captured in the conflict, has been marched from the body to the beach. CHAPTER LXXIII. The war, whose rupture I mentioned at the end of the seventieth chapter, spread rapidly throughout our borders; and absorbing the entire attention of the tribe, gave an impulse to slavery which had been unwitnessed since my advent to the Cape. The reader may readily appreciate the difficulty of my position in a country, hemmed in by war which could only be terminated by slaughter or slavery. Nor could I remain neutral in New Florence, which was situated on the same side of the river as Toso, while the enemies of Fana-Toro were in complete possession of the opposite bank. When I felt that the rupture between the British and myself was not only complete but irreparable, I had less difficulty in deciding my policy as to the natives; and, chiefly under the impulse of self-protection, I resolved to serve the cause of my ancient ally. I made whatever fortifications could be easily defended in case of attack, and, by way of show, mounted some cannon on a boat which was paraded about the waters in a formidable way. My judgment taught me from the outset that it was folly to think of joining actively in the conflict; for, while I had but three white men in my quarters, and the colonists had returned to Monrovia, my New Sestros experience taught me the value of bondsmen's backing. Numerous engagements and captures took place by both parties, so that my doors were daily besieged by a crowd of wretches sent by Fana-Toro to be purchased _for shipment_. I declined the contract with firmness and constancy, but so importunate was the chief that I could not resist his desire that a Spanish factor might come within my limits with merchandise from Gallinas to purchase his prisoners. "He could do nothing with his foes," he said, "when in his grasp, but slay or sell them." The king's enemy, on the opposite shore, disposed of his captives to Gallinas, and obtained supplies of powder and ball, while Fana-Toro, who had no vent for his prisoners, would have been destroyed without my assistance. Matters continued in this way for nearly two years, during which the British kept up so vigilant a blockade at Cape Mount and Gallinas, that the slavers had rarely a chance to enter a vessel or run a cargo. In time, the _barracoons_ became so gorged, that the slavers began to build their own schooners. When the A---- was sold, I managed to retain her long-boat in my service, but such was now the value of every egg-shell on the coast, that her owner despatched a carpenter from Gallinas, who, in a few days, decked, rigged, and equipped her for sea. She was twenty-three feet long, four feet deep, and five feet beam, so that, when afloat, her measurement could not have exceeded four tons. Yet, on a dark and stormy night, she dropped down the river, and floated out to sea through the besieging lines, with thirty-three black boys, two sailors, and a navigator. In less than forty days she transported the whole of her living freight across the Atlantic to Bahia. The negroes almost perished from thirst, but the daring example was successfully followed during the succeeding year, by skiffs of similar dimensions. * * * * * I can hardly hope that a narrative of my dull routine, while I lingered on the coast, entirely aloof from the slave-trade, would either interest or instruct the general reader. The checkered career I have already exposed, has portrayed almost every phase of African life. If I am conscious of any thing during my domicile at Cape Mount, it is of a sincere desire to prosper by lawful and honorable thrift. But, between the native wars, the turmoil of intruding slavers, and the suspicions of the English, every thing went wrong. The friendship of the colonists at Cape Palmas and Monrovia was still unabated; appeals were made by missionaries for my influence with the tribes; coasters called on me as usual for supplies; yet, with all these encouragements for exertion, I must confess that my experiment was unsuccessful. Nor was this all. I lost my cutter, laden with stores and merchandise for my factory. A vessel, filled with rice and lumber for my ship-yard, was captured _on suspicion_, and, though sent across the Atlantic for adjudication, was dismissed uncondemned. The sudden death of a British captain from Sierra Leone, deprived me of three thousand dollars. Fana-Toro made numerous assaults on his foes, all of which failed; and, to cap the climax of my ills, on returning after a brief absence, I found that a colonist, whom I had rescued from misery and employed in my forge, had fled to the enemy, carrying with him a number of my most useful servants. It was about this time that circumstances obliged me to make a rapid voyage to New York and back to Africa, where the blind goddess had another surprise in store for me. During my absence, our ancient king was compelled to make a treaty with his rival, who, under the name of George Cain, dwelt formerly among the American colonists and acquired our language. It was by treachery alone that Fana-Toro had been dragooned into an arrangement, by which my _quondam_ blacksmith, who married a sister of Cain, was elevated to the dignity of prince George's _premier_! Both these scamps, with a troop of their followers, planted themselves on my premises near the beach, and immediately let me understand that they were my sworn enemies. Cain could not pardon the aid I gave to Fana-Toro in his earlier conflicts, nor would the renegade colonist forsake his kinsman or the African barbarism, into which he had relapsed. By degrees, these varlets, whom I was unable, in my crippled condition, to dislodge, obtained the ears of the British commanders, and poured into them every falsehood that could kindle their ire. The Spanish factory of Fana-Toro's agent was reported to be _mine_. The shipment in the A---- and the adventure of her boat, were said to be _mine_. Another suspected clipper was declared to be _mine_. These, and a hundred lies of equal baseness, were adroitly purveyed to the squadron by the outlaws, and, in less than a month, my fame was as black as the skin of my traducers. Still, even at this distant day, I may challenge my worst enemy on the coast to prove that I participated, after 1839, in the purchase of a single slave for transportation beyond the sea! From the moment that the first dwelling was erected at New Florence, I carefully enforced the most rigid decorum between the sexes throughout my jurisdiction. It was the boast of our friends at Cape Palmas and Monrovia, that my grounds were free from the debauchery, which, elsewhere in Africa, was unhappily too common. I have had the honor to entertain at my table at Cape Mount, not only the ordinary traders of the coast, but commodores of French squadrons, commanders of British and American cruisers, governors of colonies, white and colored missionaries, as well as innumerable merchants of the first respectability, and I have yet to meet the first of them, in any part of the world, who can redden my cheek with a blush. But such was not the case at the Cape after Cain and Curtis became the pets of the cruisers, and converted the beach into a brothel.[10] After a brief sojourn at my quarters to repair "The Chancellor," in which I had come with a cargo from the United States, I hastened towards Gallinas to dispose of our merchandise. We had been already boarded by an American officer, who reported us to his superior as a regular merchantman; yet, such were the malicious representations on the beach against the vessel and myself, that the Dolphin tarried a month at the anchorage to watch our proceedings. When I went to the old mart of Don Pedro, a cruiser dogged us; when I sailed to leeward of Cape Palmas for oil and ivory, another took charge of our movements,--anchoring where we anchored, getting under way when we did, and following us into every nook and corner. At Grand Buttoa, I took "The Chancellor" within a reef of rocks, and here I was left to proceed as I pleased, while the British cruiser returned to Cape Mount. The fifteenth of March, eighteen hundred and forty-seven, is scored in my calendar with black. It was on the morning of that day that the commander who escorted me so warily as far as Buttoa, landed a lieutenant and sailors at New Florence, and unceremoniously proceeded to search my premises for slaves. As none were found, the valiant captors seized a couple of handcuffs, like those in use every where to secure refractory seamen, and carried them on board to their commander. Next day, several boats, with marines and sailors, led by a British captain and lieutenant, landed about noon, and, without notice, provocation, or even allowing my clerk to save his raiment, set fire to my brigantine, store-houses, and dwelling. As I was absent, I cannot vouch for every incident of this transaction, but I have the utmost confidence in the circumstantial narrative which my agent, Mr. Horace Smith, soon after prepared under oath at Monrovia. The marines and Kroomen were permitted to plunder at will. Cain and Curtis revelled in the task of philanthropic destruction. While the sailors burnt my houses, these miscreants and their adherents devoted themselves to the ruin of my garden, fruit trees, plantations, and waterworks. My cattle, even, were stolen, to be sold to the squadron; and, ere night, New Florence was a smouldering heap! I would gladly have turned the last leaf of this book without a murmur, had not this wanton outrage been perpetrated, not only while I was abroad, but without a shadow of justice. To this hour, I am ignorant of any lawful cause, or of any thing but suspicion, that may be alleged in palliation of the high-handed wrong. Not a line or word was left, whereby I could trace a pretext for my ruin. Three days after the catastrophe, my ancient ally of Toso paid the debt of nature. In a month, his tribes awoke from their stupor with one of those fiery spasms that are not uncommon in Africa, and, missing their "white man" and his merchandise, rose in a mass, and, without a word of warning, sacrificed the twin varlets of the beach and restored their lawful prince. FOOTNOTE: [10] I have spoken of visits and appeals from missionaries, and will here insert a letter of introduction which I received by the hands of the Reverend Mr. Williams, whilst I inhabited Cape Mount. Mr. Williams had been a former governor of Liberia, and was deputed to Cape Mount by the Methodist Episcopal Mission, in Liberia. "DEAR SIR: "This will be handed you by the Rev. A. D. Williams, a minister of the M. E. Church, with whom you are so well acquainted that I hardly need introduce him. It is a matter of regret that I am so situated as to be unable to accompany Mr. Williams to Cape Mount. It would have afforded me pleasure to visit your establishment, and it might have facilitated our mission operations, could I have done so. Allow me, however to bespeak for Mr. Williams your attention and patronage, both of which you have, in conversation, so kindly promised. "Our object is to elevate the natives of Cape Mount; to establish a school for children; to have divine service regularly performed on the Sabbath; and thus to endeavor to introduce among the people a knowledge of the only wise and true God and the blessings of Christianity. Such is the immense influence you have over the Cape Mount people, in consequence of your large territorial possessions, that a great deal of the success of our efforts will depend on you. "To your endeavors, then, for our prosperity, we look very anxiously. In the course of a few months, should circumstances warrant the expense, I intend to erect suitable buildings for divine service, and for the occupation of the missionary and his family. In this case, we shall have to intrude on your land for building room. I shall endeavor to visit Cape Mount as soon as possible. "I remain, my dear sir, "Yours truly, "JOHN SEYS. "TO THEODORE CANOT, ESQ., "_Cape Mount_." It would have afforded me sincere pleasure to gratify Messrs. Williams and Seys but, unluckily, they had chosen the worst time imaginable for the establishment of a mission and school. The country was ravaged by war, and the towns were depopulated. The passions of the tribes were at their height. Still, as I had promised my co-operation, I introduced the Rev. Mr. Williams to the king, who courteously told the missionary all the dangers and difficulties of his position, but promised, should the conflict speedily end, to send him notice, when a "book-man" would be received with pleasure. To give my reverend friend a proof of the scarcity of people _in the towns_, I sent messages to Toso, Fanama and Sugarei, for the inhabitants to assemble at New Florence on the next Sunday, to hear "God's palabra," (as they call sacred instruction;) but when the Sabbath came, the Rev. Mr. Williams held forth to my clerk, mechanics and servants, alone! I reported the mortifying failure to the Rev. Mr. Seys, and Mr. W. returned to Monrovia. THE END. _D. Appleton & Company's Publications._ GRACE AGUILAR'S WORKS. I. HOME SCENES AND HEART STUDIES. One vol. 12mo. Paper cover, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. "With this volume, which completes the series in which the delineation of the character of woman has been the chief design, the public now have the Works of Grace Aguilar, the intrinsic interest and value of which have won for them an enviable reputation. This last of the series consists of a variety of tales and sketches well calculated to awaken sentiments of purse affection, and inspire the heart with nobler and holier sensibilities, by its impressive illustrations of the delights of Home."--_Tribune._ "Her books all bear the impress of genius, consecrated to the noblest purposes. They may be put into the hands of all classes, without the least hesitation; and no better service could be rendered to the age, than to inspire it with a love for these productions. We recommend this series of books to our readers, and especially to our female readers. Let them get and read the writings of this champion of their sex."--_Observer._ II. THE MOTHER'S RECOMPENSE. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. "It is a fragrant offering to the cause of domestic virtue and happiness."--_Albany Atlas._ "In this domestic circle, and by all our fair readers, this excellent story will meet with a cordial welcome."--_Home Journal._ III. WOMAN'S FRIENDSHIP. A Story of Domestic Life. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents; paper, 50 cents. "This work should find a welcome in every family circle, where it is so well calculated to do good."--_Commercial Advertiser._ "The style of this production closely resembles that of Miss Edgeworth. It is one of those vivid pictures of every day life that never fails to please."--_N. O. True Delta._ IV. THE VALE OF CEDARS; OR, THE MARTYR. A Story of Spain in the Fifteenth Century. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. "The grace and vigor of the style, the masterly manner in which the details of the story are managed, and its thrilling interest, render the book one of the most absorbing that we have read for some time."--_Newark Daily Advertiser._ V. THE WOMEN OF ISRAEL. Two vols. 12mo. Paper, $1; cloth, $1.50. "By no writer have the characters of the celebrated Women of Israel been so correctly appreciated, or eloquently delineated. Those high attainments of piety, those graces of spirit, which have placed them in the rank of examples for all subsequent generations, are spread before us with a geniality of spirit and a beauty of style which will secure the warmest admiration; at the same time their weaknesses and errors are not overlooked or excused."--_Courier and Enquirer._ VI. THE DAYS OF BRUCE. A Story from Scottish History. 2 vols. 16mo. Paper, $1; cloth, $1.60 "This truly delightful work takes a higher position than that of a novel. It is full of sound instruction, close and logical reasoning, and is fill with practical lessons of every day character, which renders it desirable book for the young."--_Albany Register._ * * * * * Dumas's last and best Book. D. APPLETON & COMPANY, HAVE JUST READY THE FIFTH THOUSAND OF THE FORESTERS. BY ALEX. DUMAS. TRANSLATED FROM THE AUTHOR'S ORIGINAL MSS. 1 neat vol. 12mo. in paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. CONTENTS.--To my Daughter.--The New House on the Road to Soissons.--Mathieu Goguelue.--A Bird of Evil Omen.--Catherine Blum.--The Parisian.--Jealousy.--Father and Mother.--The Return.--Mademoiselle Euphrosine Raisin.--Love's Young Dream.--The Abbé Gregoire.--Father and Son.--The Village Fête.--A Snake in the Grass.--Temptation and Crime.--The Ranger's Home.--Apprehension.--The Book of the Innocent.--Mathieu's Trial. =Notices of the Press.= "A lively story of love, jealousy, and intrigue."--_N. Y. Com. Advertiser._ "Another proof of Dumas's unrivalled talent."--_Middletown Sentinel._ "The tale is a simple one, but exciting and interesting. The scene is laid in Villers-Cotterêts in France. The reputation of the author is so firmly established, that in our stating that the translation is a faithful one, our readers who are novel readers will have heard sufficient."--_Phila. Register._ "A capital story. The reader will find the interest increase to the end."--_Phila. Gaz._ "The present volume fully sustains the high reputation of its author; it shows a very high order of genius. The translation is such perfectly good English, that we easily forget that we are not reading the work in the language in which it was originally written."--_Albany Argus._ "A short, but stirring romance."--_Boston Atlas._ "This work of Dumas's is an interesting one. The plot is well laid, and the incidents hurry on, one after another, so rapidly that the interest is kept up to the close."--_Hartford Courant._ "It is a capital story, and an unmistakable Dumas's work. To say this, is to bestow upon it sufficient praise."--_Troy Times._ "This new story of Dumas will afford a delightful resource for a leisure hour."--_The Bizarre._ "This very entertaining novel is indubitably one of Dumas's best efforts; it cannot fail to become widely popular."--_N. Y. Courier._ "A pleasing, romantic love story, written with the author's usual vigor."--_Newark Adv._ "A quiet domestic tale that must charm all readers."--_Syracuse Daily._ "This is a lively story of love, jealously and intrigue, in a French village."--_Phila. Daily Times._ "The fame of the author will alone secure a wide circulation for this book. He is one of the best novel writers living. 'The Foresters' fully sustains his great reputation."--_Troy Daily Times._ "This exceedingly entertaining novel is from the pen of one of the most eminent and celebrated of Modern French novelists--Alexander Dumas."--_Binghampton Republican._ "This production of the celebrated author, is written in the same masterly style for which all his works are noted."--_Hartford Times._ "The Foresters, as a work by itself, is one of many charms. That the book will be eagerly sought after, there can be no doubt. That every reader will admire it is none the less certain."--_Buffalo Morning Express._ "It will be found an interesting story."--_Arthur's Home Gazette._ "The plot is extremely pleasing, and the book must meet with a ready and extensive sale."--_Syracuse Daily._ * * * * * _D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS._ A Choice New England Tale. FARMINGDALE, A TALE BY CAROLINE THOMAS. Two volumes, 12mo., paper covers, 75 cents, or 2 volumes in 1, cloth, $1. "It is a story of New England life, skilfully told, full of tender interest, healthy in its sentiments and remarkably graphic in its sketches of character. 'Aunt Betsy' is drawn to the life."--_Home Gazette._ "Farmingdale is the best novel of the season."--_Eve. Post._ "It will compare favorably with the 'Lamplighter,' by Miss Cummings, and the 'Wide, Wide World,' by Miss Warner, and in interest it is quite equal to either."--_Boston Transcript._ "'Farmingdale,' the work to which we allude, in every page and paragraph, is redolent of its native sky. It is a tale of New England domestic life, in its incidents and manners so true to nature and so free from exaggeration, and in its impulses and motives throughout so throbbing with the real American heart, that we shall not be surprised to hear of as many New England villages claiming to be the scene of its story, as were the cities of Greece that claimed to be the birth place of Homer."--_Philadelphia Courier._ "The story abounds in scenes of absorbing interest. The narration is every where delightfully clear and straightforward, flowing forth towards its conclusion, like a gentle and limpid stream, between graceful hillsides and verdant meadows."--_Home Journal._ "This is a story of country life, written by a hand whose guiding power was a living soul. The pictures of life are speaking and effective. The story is interestingly told and its high moral aim well sustained."--_Syracuse Chronicle._ "'Farmingdale,' while it has many points in common with some recent works of fiction, is yet highly original. The author has had the boldness to attempt a novel, the main interest of which does not hinge either upon love or matrimony, nor upon complicated and entangled machinery, but upon a simple and apparently artless narrative of a friendless girl."--_Philadelphia Eve. Mail._ "The author studiously avoids all forced and unnatural incidents, and the equally fashionable affectation of extravagant language. Her style and diction are remarkable for their purity and ease. In the conception and delineation of character she has shown herself possessed of the true creative power."--_Com. Adv._ "A simple yet beautiful story, told in a simple and beautiful manner. The object is to show the devoted affection of a sister to a young brother, and the sacrifices which she made for him from childhood. There is touching simplicity in the character of this interesting female that will please all readers, and benefit many of her sex."--_Hartford Courant._ "The tale is prettily written, and breathes throughout an excellent moral tone."--_Boston Daily Journal._ "We have read this book; it is lively, spirited, and in some parts pathetic. Its sketches of life seem to us at once graceful and vivid."--_Albany Argus._ "The book is well written, in a simple, unpretending style, and the dialogue is natural and easy. It is destined to great popularity among all classes of readers. Parents who object placing 'love tales' in the hands of their children, may purchase this volume without fear. The oldest and the youngest will become interested in its fascinating pages, and close it with the impression that it is a good book, and deserving of the greatest popularity."--_Worcester Palladium._ * * * * * _D. Appleton & Company's Publications._ Choice New English Works of Fiction. I. THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE. A TALE. 2 vols. 12mo. Paper, $1.00; cloth, $1.50. "A novel of really high merit. The characters are most skilfully drawn out in the course of the story. The death of Guy is one of the most touching things we ever read. * * * The work is one of absorbing interest, and what is still better, the moral taught in its pages is eminently healthy and elevating. We commend the book most cordially."--_Com. Adv._ "The whole tone and feeling of this book is good and true. The reader does not require to be told that the author is religious; the right principles, the high sense of duty and honor, softened by the influence of a reverent faith, can be explained on no other hypothesis. It is eminently a book to send the reader away from the perusal better and wiser for the lessons hidden under its deeply interesting narrative."--_London Guardian._ "A well written, spirited and interesting work. It is full of character, sparkling with conversation and picturesque with paintings of nature. The plot is well conceived and handsomely wrought out. There is a freshness of feeling and tone of healthy sentiment about such novels, that recommend them to public favor."--_Albany Spectator._ II. LIGHT AND SHADE; OR, THE YOUNG ARTIST A TALE. BY ANNA HARRIET DRURY, author of "Friends and Fortune," "Eastbury," &c. 12mo. Paper cover, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. "It is a beautiful and ably written story."--_Churchman._ "The story is well written, and will be read with much pleasure as well as profit."--_Lansingburgh Gazette._ "A novel with a deep religious tone, bearing and aim--a most attractive style."--_Springfield Republican._ "We recommend her books to the young, as among those from which they have nothing to fear."--_New Haven Courier._ "A very well told tale, mingling the grave and gay, the tender and severe, in fair proportions. It displays a genius and skill in the writer of no ordinary measure."--_Trib._ III. THE DEAN'S DAUGHTER; Or, THE DAYS WE LIVE IN. By Mrs. GORE. 1 vol. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. "The 'Dean's Daughter' will doubtless be one of the most successful books of the season. It abounds in all those beauties which have hitherto distinguished Mrs. Gore's novels. The management of the incidents of the story is as clever, the style is as brilliant, the satire as keen, and the conversation as flowing, as in the best of her works."--_Daily News._ "It will be read with pleasure by thousands."--_Herald._ "Mrs. Gore is perhaps the wittiest of modern novelists. Of all the ladies who in later times have taken in hand the weapon of satire, her blade is certainly the most trenchant. A vapid lord or a purse-proud citizen, a money-hunting woman of fashion or a toad-eater, a _humbug_ in short, male or female, and of whatsoever cast or quality he may be, will find his pretensions well castigated in some one or other of her brilliant pages; while scattered about in many places are passages and scenes of infinite tenderness showing that our authoress is not insensible to the gentler qualities of our nature and is mistress of pathos in no common degree."--_Examiner._ * * * * * _D. Appleton & Company's Publications._ "A WORK WHICH BEARS THE IMPRESS OF GENIUS." KATHARINE ASHTON. By the author of "Amy Herbert," "Gertrude," &c. 2 vols. 12mo. Paper covers, $1; cloth, $1.50. =Opinions of the Press.= We know not where we will find purer morals, or more valuable "life-philosophy," than in the pages of Miss Sewell.--_Savannah Georgian._ The style and character of Miss Sewell's writings are too well-known to the reading public to need commendation. The present volume will only add to her reputation as an authoress.--_Albany Transcript._ This novel is admirably calculated to inculcate refined moral and religious sentiments.--_Boston Herald._ The interest of the story is well sustained throughout, and it is altogether one of the pleasantest books of the season.--_Syracuse Standard._ Those who have read the former works of this writer, will welcome the appearance of this; it is equal to the best of her preceding novels.--_Savannah Republican._ Noble, beautiful, selfish, hard, and ugly characters appear in it, and each is so drawn as to be felt and estimated as it deserves.--_Commonwealth._ A re-publication of a good English novel. It teaches self-control, charity, and a true estimation of life, by the interesting history of a young girl.--_Hartford Courant._ Katharine Ashton will enhance the reputation already attained, the story and the moral being equally commendable.--_Buffalo Courier._ Like all its predecessors, Katharine Ashton bears the impress of genius, consecrated to the noblest purposes, and should find a welcome in every family circle.--_Banner of the Cross._ No one can be injured by books like this; a great many must be benefited. Few authors have sent so many faultless writings to the press as she has done.--_Worcester Palladium._ The _self-denial_ of the Christian life, in its application to common scenes and circumstances, is happily illustrated in the example of Katharine Ashton, in which there is much to admire and imitate.--_Southern Churchman._ Her present work is an interesting tale of English country life, is written with her usual ability, and is quite free from any offensive parade of her own theological tenets.--_Boston Traveller._ The field in which Miss Sewell labors, seems to be exhaustless, and to yield always a beautiful and a valuable harvest.--_Troy Daily Budget._ D. APPLETON & COMPANY _Have recently published the following interesting works by the same author._ THE EXPERIENCE OF LIFE. 1 vol. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. THE EARL'S DAUGHTER. 1 vol. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. GERTRUDE: a Tale. 1 vol. 12mo. Paper, 50 cts.; cloth, 75 cts. AMY HERBERT: A Tale. 1 vol. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. LANETON PARSONAGE. 3 vols. 12mo. Paper, $1.50; cloth, $2.25. MARGARET PERCIVAL. 2 vols. Paper, $1; cloth, $1.50. READING FOR A MONTH. 12mo. cloth, 75 cents. A JOURNAL KEPT DURING A SUMMER TOUR. 1 vol. cloth, $1.00. WALTER LORIMER AND OTHER TALES. Cloth, 75 cents. THE CHILD'S FIRST HISTORY OF ROME. 50 cents. THE CHILD'S FIRST HISTORY OF GREECE. 63 cents. * * * * * _D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS._ MRS. COWDEN CLARKE'S NEW ENGLISH NOVEL. The Iron Cousin, or Mutual Influence. BY MARY COWDEN CLARKE, Author of "THE GIRLHOOD OF SHAKESPEARE'S HEROINES;" the "COMPLETE CONCORDANCE TO SHAKESPEARE," &c. One handsomely printed volume, large 12mo. over 500 pages. Price $1.25--cloth. "Mrs. Clarke has given us one of the most delightful novels we have read for many a day, and one which is destined, we doubt not, to be much longer lived than the majority of the books of its class. Its chief beauties are a certain freshness in the style in which the incidents are presented to us--a healthful tone pervading it--a completeness in most of the characters--and a truthful power in the descriptions."--_London Times._ "We have found the volume deeply interesting--its characters are well drawn, while its tone and sentiments are well calculated to exert a purifying and ennobling influence upon all who read it."--_Savannah Republican._ "The scene of the book is village life amongst the upper class, with village episodes, which seem to have been sketched from the life--there is a primitive simplicity and greatness of heart about some of the characters which keep up the sympathy and interest to the end."--_London Globe._ "The reader cannot fail of being both charmed and instructed by the book, and of hoping that a pen so able will not lie idle."--_Pennsylvanian._ "We fearlessly recommend it as a work of more than ordinary merit."--_Binghampton Daily Republic._ "The great moral lesson indicated by the title-page of this book runs, as a golden thread, through every part of it, while the reader is constantly kept in contact with the workings of an inventive and brilliant mind."--_Albany Argus._ "We have read this fascinating story with a good deal of interest. Human nature is well and faithfully portrayed, and we see the counterpart of our story in character and disposition, in every village and district. The book cannot fail of popular reception."--_Albany and Rochester Courier._ "A work of deep and powerful influence."--_Herald._ "Mrs. Cowden Clarke, with the delicacy and artistic taste of refine womanhood, has in this work shown great versatility of talent." "The story is too deeply interesting to allow the reader to lay it down till he has read it to the end." "The work is skilful in plan, graphic in style, diversified in incident and true to nature." "The tale is charmingly imagined. The incidents never exceed probability but seem perfectly natural. In the style there is much quaintness, in the sentiment much tenderness." "It is a spirited, charming story, full of adventure, friendship and love, with characters nicely drawn and carefully discriminated. The clear style and spirit with which the story is presented and the characters developed, will attract a large constituency to the perusal." "Mrs. Cowden Clarke's story has one of the highest qualities of fiction--it is no flickering shadow, but seems of real growth. It is full of lively truth, and show nice perception of the early elements of character with which we become acquainted in its wholeness, and in the ripeness of years. The incident is well woven; the color is blood-warm; and there is the presence of a sweet grace and gentle power." * * * * * WORKS BY MISS SEWELL, PUBLISHED BY D. APPLETON & COMPANY. I. _THE EXPERIENCE OF LIFE: A TALE._ One vol. 12mo. Paper cover, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. (_Just ready._) II. _A JOURNAL KEPT DURING A SUMMER TOUR_ FOR THE CHILDREN OF A VILLAGE SCHOOL Three parts in one vol. 12mo. Cloth, $1. "A very simple and sweetly written work. There is the same natural and graceful detail that mark Miss Sewell's novels. It will find a great many admirers among the young people, who will be almost as happy as the fair traveller in wandering over the ground on which she has looked with a discriminating eye, and received, and communicated suggestions which, from her enlarged sphere of observation, can hardly fail to enlarge the heart as well as to enrich the intellect."--_Commercial Advertiser._ III. _THE EARL'S DAUGHTER: A TALE._ Edited by the Rev. WM. SEWELL, B. A. One vol. 12mo. Paper cover, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. IV. _MARGARET PERCIVAL: A TALE._ Edited by the Rev. WM. SEWELL, B. A. Two vols. 12mo. Paper cover, $1; cloth, $1.50. V. _GERTRUDE: A TALE._ Edited by the Rev. WM. SEWELL, B. A. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents; paper cover, 50 cents. VI. _AMY HERBERT: A TALE._ Edited by the Rev. WM. SEWELL, B. A. One vol. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents; paper cover, 50 cents. VII. _LANETON PARSONAGE: A TALE._ Edited by the Rev. WM. SEWELL, B. A. Three vols. 12mo. Cloth, $2.25; paper cover, $1.50. VIII. _WALTER LORIMER, AND OTHER TALES._ 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents. IX. _THE CHILD'S FIRST HISTORY OF ROME._ One vol. 16mo. 50 cents. X. _THE CHILD'S FIRST HISTORY OF GREECE._ One vol. 16mo. * * * * * _D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS._ A BOOK FOR EVERY CHRISTIAN FAMILY. The Hearth-Stone; THOUGHTS UPON HOME LIFE IN OUR CITIES BY SAMUEL OSGOOD, Author of "Studies in Christian Biography," "God with Men," etc. 1 vol. 12mo. cloth. Price $1. CRITICISMS OF THE PRESS. "This is a volume of eloquent and impressive essays on the domestic relations and the religious duties of the household. Mr. Osgood writes on those interesting themes in the most charming and animated style, winning the reader's judgment rather than coercing it to the author's conclusions. The predominant sentiments in the book are purity, sincerity, and love. A more delightful volume has rarely been published, and we trust it will have a wide circulation, for its influence must be salutary upon both old and young."--_Commercial Advertiser._ "The 'Hearth-Stone' is the symbol of all those delightful truths which Mr. Osgood here connects with it. In a free and graceful style, varying form deep solemnity to the most genial and lively tone, as befits his range of subjects, he gives attention to wise thoughts on holy things, and homely truths. His volume will find many warm hearts to which it will address itself."--_Christian Examiner._ "The author of his volume passes through a large circle of subjects, all of them connected with domestic life as it exists in large towns. The ties of relationship--the female character as developed in the true province and empire of woman, domestic life, the education of children, and the training them to habits of reverence--the treatment of those of our households whose lot in life is humbler than ours--the cultivation of a contented mind--the habitual practice of devotion--these and various kindred topics furnish ample matter for touching reflections and wholesome counsels. The spirit of the book is fervently religious, and though no special pains are taken to avoid topics on which religious men differ, it 'breathes a kindly spirit above the reach of sect or party.' The author is now numbered among the popular preachers of the metropolis, and those who have listened to his spoken, will not be disappointed with his written, eloquence."--_Evening Post._ "A household book, treating of the domestic relations, the deportment, affections, and duties which belong to the well ordered Christian family. Manly advice and good sense are exhibited in an earnest and affectionate tone, and not without tenderness and truthful sentiment; while withal a Christian view is taken of the serious responsibility which attends the performance of the duties of husband and wife, parent and child, sister and brother. We are particularly pleased with the real practical wisdom, combined with the knowledge of human nature, which renders this volume deserving of careful study by those who desire to make their homes happy."--_New York Churchman._ * * * * * _D. Appleton & Company's Publications._ JULIA KAVANAGH'S WORKS. I. DAISY BURNS. 12mo. Two parts. Paper Cover, 75 cents; or in 1 Vol. cloth, $1. "The clear conception, the forcible delineation, the style, at once elegant and powerful, of Miss Kavanagh's former works, are exhibited in this, as well as deep thought and sound moral reflection. Every thing presented to the reader, whether thought or image, is elaborated with the finish of a Flemish painting without its grossness; the persons are nicely conceived and consistently sustained, and the principal narrative is relieved by very truthful pictures of every day life and character."--_London Spectator._ "A very delightful tale. * * * The charm of the story is in its naturalness. It is perfectly quiet, domestic, and truthful. In the calm force and homely realities of its scenes it reminds us of Miss Austen."--_Times._ "All her books are written with talent and a woman's true feeling."--_U. S. Gazette._ "It is full of deep feeling, tenderness, pure feminine sentiment and moral truth."--_Albany Knickerbocker._ II. NATHALIE. Two Parts. 12mo. Paper Covers, 75 cents; cloth, $1. "A work of extraordinary merit, with a far deeper design than merely to arouse, it attempts to solve some of the subtle problems of human nature. Some of the wisest lessons in life are taught in the work, while the artistic skill with which the narrative is managed imparts a vivid interest. The author might be, with a stronger infusion of the poetic element, another Joanna Baillie; and no one will read the work without a high estimate of her dramatic powers and her deep insight."--_Evangelist._ III. MADELEINE. One Volume. 12mo. Paper Covers, 50 cents; cloth, 75 cents. "A charming story, gracefully told. Its intrinsic interest as a narrative, and the tenderness of its pathos will win for it many readers."--_Boston Traveller._ "The character of Madeleine, the heroine, is beautifully drawn and powerfully portrayed. Miss Kavanagh is most known by her excellent novel of 'Nathalie.' This book possesses no less interest, though of a very different kind."--_Courier and Enq._ IV. WOMEN OF CHRISTIANITY. One Volume. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents. "The design and spirit of this volume are alike admirable. Miss Kavanagh divides her work into four periods; the first relates the deeds of holy women under the Roman empire; the second tells us of the fruits of faith in the middle ages; the third is devoted to the women of the seventeenth century; and the fourth to those of the eighteenth and present centuries. We have read many of these records of other days, as told by Miss Kavanagh, and we are sure that the influence upon every Christian-minded person cannot but be for good, if he will meditate upon what our holy religion is every day doing. The volume is well worthy a place in every Christian family."--_Ban. of the Cross._ * * * * * _D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS._ THE GREAT KENTUCKY NOVEL. D. APPLETON & COMPANY HAVE JUST PUBLISHED Tempest and Sunshine; or, Life in Kentucky. BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES. One Volume, 12mo. Paper covers, 75 cents; cloth, $1. These are the most striking and original sketches of American character in the South-western States which have ever been published. The character of Tempest is drawn with all that spirit and energy which characterize the high toned female spirit of the South, while Sunshine possesses the loveliness and gentleness of the sweetest of her sex. The Planter is sketched to the life, and in his strongly marked, passionate, and generous nature, the reader will recognize one of the truest sons of the south-west. =OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.= "The book is well written, and its fame will be more than ephemeral."--_Buffalo Express._ "The story is interesting and finely developed."--_Daily Times._ "A lively romance of western life--the style of the writer is smart, intelligent, and winning, and her story is told with spirit and skill."--_U. S. Gazette._ "An excellent work, and its sale must be extensive."--_Stamford Advocate._ "The whole is relieved by a generous introduction of incident as well as by an amplitude of love and mystery."--_Express._ "A delightful, well written book, portraying western life to the letter. The book abounds in an easy humor, with touching sentences of tenderness and pathos scattered through it, and from first to last keeps up a humane interest that very many authors strive in vain to achieve. 'Tempest' and 'Sunshine,' two sisters, are an exemplification of the good that to some comes by nature, and to others is found only through trials, temptation, and tribulation. Mr. Middleton, the father of 'Tempest' and 'Sunshine' is the very soul and spirit of 'Old Kaintuck,' abridged into one man. The book is worth reading. There is a healthy tone of morality pervading it that will make it a suitable work to be placed in the hands of our daughters and sisters."--_New York Day Book._ * * * * * _D. APPLETON & COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS._ The Great Work on Russia. Fifth Edition now ready. RUSSIA AS IT IS. BY COUNT A. DE GUROWSKI. One neat volume 12mo., pp. 328, well printed. Price $1, cloth. CONTENTS.--Preface.--Introduction.--Czarism: its historical origin.--The Czar Nicholas.--The Organization of the Government.--The Army and Navy.--The Nobility.--The Clergy.--The Bourgeoisie.--The Cossacks.--The Real People, the Peasantry.--The Rights of Aliens and Strangers.--The Commoner.--Emancipation.--Manifest Destiny.--Appendix.--The Amazons.--The Fourteen Classes of the Russian Public Service; or, the Tschins.--The Political Testament of Peter the Great.--Extract from an Old Chronicle. =Notices of the Press.= "The author takes no superficial, empirical view of his subject, but collecting a rich variety of facts, brings the lights of a profound philosophy to their explanation. His work, indeed, neglects no essential detail--it is minute and accurate in its statistics--it abounds in lively pictures of society, manners and character. * * * Whoever wishes to obtain an accurate notion of the internal condition of Russia, the nature and extent of her resources, and the practical influence of her institutions, will here find better materials for his purpose than in any single volume now extant."--_N. Y. Tribune._ "This is a powerfully-written book, and will prove of vast service to every one who desires to comprehend the real nature and bearings of the great contest in which Russia is now engaged."--_N. Y. Courier._ "It is original in its conclusions; it is striking in its revelations. Numerous as are the volumes that have been written about Russia, we really hitherto have known little of that immense territory--of that numerous people. Count Gurowski's work sheds a light which at this time is most welcome and satisfactory."--_N. Y. 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10633	----	Proofreaders from images generously made available by the Bibliotheque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr THE HISTORY OF THE RISE, PROGRESS, AND ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE-TRADE, BY THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT BY THOMAS CLARKSON, M.A. 1839 [Illustration: Thomas Clarkson] * * * * * TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM, LORD GRENVILLE, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES, EARL GREY, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE FRANCIS, EARL MOIRA, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE GEORGE JOHN, EARL SPENCER, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY RICHARD, LORD HOLLAND, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS, LORD ERSKINE, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDWARD, LORD ELLENBOROUGH, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HENRY PETTY, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS GRENVILLE, * * * * * NINE OUT OF TWELVE OF HIS MAJESTY'S LATE CABINET MINISTERS, TO WHOSE WISE AND VIRTUOUS ADMINISTRATION BELONGS THE UNPARALLELED AND ETERNAL GLORY OF THE ANNIHILATION, AS FAR AS THEIR POWER EXTENDED, OF ONE OF THE GREATEST SOURCES OF CRIMES AND SUFFERINGS, EVER RECORDED IN THE ANNALS OF MANKIND; AND TO THE MEMORIES OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM PITT, AND OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES JAMES FOX, UNDER WHOSE FOSTERING INFLUENCE THE GREAT WORK WAS BEGUN AND PROMOTED; THIS HISTORY OF THE RISE, PROGRESS, AND ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE TRADE, IS RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED. * * * * * CONTENTS PREFATORY REMARKS ON THE ABOLITION OF SLAVERY CHAPTER I Introduction.--Estimate of the evil of the Slave Trade; and of the blessing of the Abolition of it.--Usefulness of the contemplation of this subject CHAPTER II Those, who favoured the cause of the Africans previously to 1787, were so many necessary forerunners in it.--Cardinal Ximenes; and others CHAPTER III Forerunners continued to 1787; divided now into four classes.--First consists of persons in England of various descriptions, Godwyn, Baxter, and others CHAPTER IV Second, of the Quakers in England, George Fox, and his religious descendants CHAPTER V Third, of the Quakers in America.--Union of these with individuals of other religious denominations in the same cause CHAPTER VI Facility of junction between the members of these three different classes CHAPTER VII Fourth, consists of Dr. Peckard; then of the Author.--Author wishes to embark in the cause; falls in with several of the members of these classes CHAPTER VIII Fourth class continued; Langton, Baker, and others.--Author now embarks in the cause as a business of his life CHAPTER IX Fourth class continued; Sheldon, Mackworth, and others.--Author seeks for further information on the subject; and visits Members of Parliament CHAPTER X Fourth class continued.--Author enlarges his knowledge.--Meeting at Mr. Wilberforce's.--Remarkable junction of all the four classes, and a Committee formed out of them, in May, 1787, for the Abolition of the Slave Trade. CHAPTER XI History of the preceding classes, and of their junction, shown by means of a map. CHAPTER XII Author endeavours to do away the charge of ostentation in consequence of becoming so conspicuous in this work. CHAPTER XIII Proceedings of the Committee; Emancipation declared to be no part of its object.--Wrongs of Africa by Mr. Roscoe. CHAPTER XIV Author visits Bristol to collect information.--Ill-usage of seamen in the Slave Trade.--Articles of African produce.--Massacre at Calabar. CHAPTER XV Mode of procuring and paying seamen in that trade; their mortality in it.--Construction and admeasurement of slave-ships.--Difficulty of procuring evidence.--Cases of Gardiner and Arnold. CHAPTER XVI Author meets with Alexander Falconbridge; visits ill-treated and disabled seamen; takes a mate out of one of the slave-vessels, and puts another in prison for murder. CHAPTER XVII Visits Liverpool.--Specimens of African produce.--Dock duties.--Iron instruments used in the traffic.--His introduction to Mr. Norris. CHAPTER XVIII Manner of procuring and paying seamen at Liverpool in the Slave Trade; their treatment and mortality.--Murder of Peter Green.--Dangerous situation of the Author in consequence of his inquiries. CHAPTER XIX Author proceeds to Manchester; delivers a discourse there on the subject of the Slave Trade.--Revisits Bristol; new and difficult situation there; suddenly crosses the Severn at night.--Returns to London. CHAPTER XX Labours of the Committee during the Author's journey.--Mr. Sharp elected chairman.--Seal engraved.--Letters from different correspondents to the Committee. CHAPTER XXI Further labours of the Committee to February, 1788.--List of new Correspondents. CHAPTER XXII Progress of the cause to the middle of May.--Petitions to Parliament.--Author's interviews with Mr. Pitt and Mr. Grenville.--Privy Council inquire into the subject; examine Liverpool delegates.--Proceedings of the Committee for the Abolition.--Motion and Debate in the House of Commons; discussion of the general question postponed to the next Session. CHAPTER XXIII Progress to the middle of July.--Bill to diminish the horrors of the Middle Passage; Evidence examined against it; Debates; Bill passed through both Houses.--Proceedings of the Committee, and effects of them. CHAPTER XXIV Continuation from June, 1788, to July, 1789.--Author travels in search of fresh evidence.--Privy Council resume their examinations; prepare their report.--Proceedings of the Committee for the Abolition; and of the Planters and others.--Privy Council report laid on the table of the House of Commons; debate upon it.--Twelve propositions.--Opponents refuse to argue from the report; examine new evidence of their own in the House of Commons.--Renewal of the Middle Passage Bill.--Death and character of Ramsay. CHAPTER XXV Continuation from July, 1789, to July, 1790.--Author travels to Paris to promote the abolition in France; his proceedings there; returns to England.--Examination of opponents' evidence resumed in the Commons.--Author travels in quest of new evidence on the side of the Abolition; this, after great opposition, introduced.--Renewal of the Middle Passage Bill.--Section of the slave-ship.--Cowper's _Negro's Complaint_.--Wedgewood's Cameos. CHAPTER XXVI Continuation from July, 1790, to July, 1791.--Author travels again.--Examinations on the side of the Abolition resumed in the Commons; list of those examined.--Cruel circumstances of the times.--Motion for the Abolition of the Trade; debates; motion lost.--Resolutions of the Committee.--Sierra Leone Company established. CHAPTER XXVII Continuation from July, 1791, to July, 1792.--Author travels again.--People begin to leave off sugar; petition Parliament.--Motion renewed in the Commons; debates; abolition resolved upon, but not to commence till 1796.--The Lords determine upon hearing evidence on the resolution; this evidence introduced; further hearing of it postponed to the next Session CHAPTER XXVIII Continuation from July, 1792, to July, 1793.--Author travels again.--Motion to renew the Resolution of the last year in the Commons; motion lost.--New motion to abolish the foreign Slave Trade; motion lost.--Proceeding of the Lords CHAPTER XXIX Continuation from July, 1793, to July, 1794.--Author travels again.--Motion to abolish the foreign Slave Trade renewed, and carried; but lost in the Lords; further proceedings there.--Author, on account of declining health, obliged to retire from the cause CHAPTER XXX Continuation from July, 1794, to July, 1799.--Various motions within this period CHAPTER XXXI Continuation from July, 1799, to July, 1805.--Various motions within this period CHAPTER XXXII Continuation from July, 1805, to July, 1806.--Author, restored, joins the Committee again.--Death of Mr. Pitt.--Foreign Slave Trade abolished.--Resolution to take measures for the total abolition of the trade.--Address to the King to negotiate with foreign powers for their concurrence in it.--Motion to prevent new vessels going into the trade.--All these carried through both Houses of Parliament CHAPTER XXXIII Continuation from July, 1806, to July, 1807.--Death of Mr. Fox.--Bill for the total abolition carried in the Lords; sent from thence to the Commons; amended, and passed there, and sent back to the Lords; receives the royal assent.--Reflections on this great event Map Plan and Sections of a Slave Ship * * * * * PREFATORY REMARKS TO THE PRESENT EDITION. * * * * * The invaluable services rendered by Thomas Clarkson to the great question of the Slave Trade in all its branches, have been universally acknowledged both at home and abroad, and have gained him a high place among the greatest benefactors of mankind. The History of the Abolition which this volume contains, affords some means of appreciating the extent of his sacrifices and his labours in this cause. But after these, with the unwearied exertions of William Wilberforce, had conducted its friends to their final triumph, in 1807, they did not then rest from their labours. There remained four most important objects, to which the anxious attention of all Abolitionists was now directed. _First_,--The law had been passed, forced upon the Planters, the Traders, and the Parliament, by the voice of the people; and there was a necessity for keeping a watchful eye over its execution. _Secondly_,--The statute, however rigorously it might be enforced, left, of course, the whole amount of the Foreign Slave traffic untouched, and it was infinitely to be desired that means should be adopted for extending our Abolition to other nations. _Thirdly_,--Some compensation was due to Africa, for the countless miseries which our criminal conduct had for ages inflicted upon her, and strict justice, to say nothing of common humanity and Christian charity, demanded that every means should be used for aiding in the progress of her civilization, and effacing as far as possible the dreadful marks which had been left upon her by our crimes. _Lastly,_--Many of those whom we had transported by fraud and violence from their native country, and still more of the descendants of others who had fallen a sacrifice to our cruelties, and perished in the course of nature, slaves in a foreign land, remained to suffer the dreadful evils of West India bondage. It seemed to follow, that the earliest opportunity consistent with their own condition, should be taken to free those unhappy beings, the victims of our sordid cruelty; and all the more to be pitied, as we were all the more to be blamed, because one result of our transgression was the having placed them in so unnatural a position, that their enemies might seem to be furnished with an argument more plausible than sound, drawn from the Negro's supposed unfitness for immediate emancipation. In order to promote these four great objects, a society was formed in May 1807, called the African Institution, and although, at first, its labours were chiefly directed to the portion of the subject relating to Africa, by degrees, as the extinction of the British Slave Trade was accomplished, its care was chiefly bestowed on West India matters, which were more within the power of this country than the slave traffic, still carried on by foreign nations. But it is necessary in the first place, to recite the measures by which our own share in that enormous crime was surrendered, and the stigma partially obliterated, which it had brought upon our national character, Thomas Clarkson bore a forward and important part in all these useful and virtuous proceedings. His health was now, by rest among the Lakes of Westmoreland for several years, comparatively restored and his mind once more bent itself to the accomplishment of the grand object; of his life, we may he permitted reverently to suggest, the end of his existence. Mr. Stephen and others, at first, deemed the certainty of the Act passed in March 1807, being evaded under the stimulus, and the insurance against capture afforded by the enormous profits of the traffic, so clear, that they expected the law to become, almost from the time of its being enacted, a dead letter. There soon appeared the strongest reasons to concur in this opinion, the result of long and close observation in the Islands where Mr. Stephen had passed part of his life. The slave-dealers knew the risk of penalty and forfeiture which they ran; but they also knew that if one voyage in three or four was successful, they were abundantly remunerated for all their losses; and, therefore, they were no more restrained by the Abolition Act, than by any moderate increase of the cost or the risk attending their wicked adventures. This was sure, to be the case, as long as the law only treated slavetrading as a contraband commerce, subjecting those who drove it to nothing but pecuniary penalties. But it was equally evident that the same persons who made these calculations of profit and risk, while they only could lose the ship or the money by a seizure, would hesitate before they encountered the hazard of being tried as for a crime. And, surely, if ever these was an act which deserved to be declared felony, and dealt with as such, it was this of slave-trading. Accordingly, in 1810, Mr. Brougham, then a member of the House of Commons, in moving an address to the crown, (which was unanimously agreed to,) for more vigorous measures against the traffic, both British and Foreign, gave notice of the Bill, which he next year carried through Parliament, and which declared the traffic to be a felony, punishable with transportation. Some years afterwards it was by another Act made capital, under the name of Piracy, but this has since been repealed. Several convictions have taken place under the former Act, (of 1811,) and there cannot be the least doubt that the law has proved effectual, and that the Slave Trade has long ceased to exist as far as the British dominions are concerned. That foreign states continue shamefully to carry it on, is no less certain. There are yearly transported to Cuba and Brazil, above 100,000 unhappy beings, by the two weakest nations in Europe, and these two most entirely subject to the influence and even direct control of England. The inevitable consequence is, that more misery is now inflicted on Africa by the criminals, gently called Slave-traders, of these two guilty nations, than if there were no treaties for the abolition of the traffic. The number required is always carried over, and hence, as many perish by a miserable death in escaping from the cruisers, as reach their destination. The recitals of horror which have been made to Parliament and the country on this dreadful subject, are enough to curdle the blood in the veins and heart of any one endued with the common feelings of humanity. The whole system of prevention, or rather of capture, after the crime has been committed, seems framed with a view to exasperate the evils of the infernal traffic, to scourge Africa with more intolerable torments, and to make human blood be spilt like water. Our cruisers, are excited to an active discharge of their duty, by the benefit of sharing in the price fetched when the captured ship is condemned and sold; but this is a small sum, indeed, compared with the rich reward of head-money held out, being so much for every slave taken on board. It is thus made the direct interest of these cruisers, that the vessels should have their human cargoes on board, rather than be prevented from shipping them. True, this vile policy may prove less mischievous where no treaty exists, giving a right to seize when there are no slaves in the vessel, because here a slave ship is suffered to pass, how clear soever her destination might be; yet, even here, the inducement to send in boats, and seize as soon as a slave or two may be on board, is removed, and the cruiser is told, "only let all these wretched beings be torn from their country, and safely lodged in the vessel's hold, and your reward is great and sure." Then, whenever there is an outfit clause, that is a power to seize vessels fitted for the traffic, this mischievous plan tends directly to make the cruiser let the slaver make ready and put to sea, or it has no tendency or meaning at all. Accordingly, the course is for the cruiser to stand out to sea, and not allow herself to be seen in the offing--the crime is consummated--the slaves are stowed away--the pirate--captain weighs anchor--the pirate-vessel freighted with victims, and manned by criminals fares forth--the cruiser, the British cruiser, gives chace--and then begin those scenes of horror, surpassing all that the poet ever conceived, whose theme was the torments of the damned and the wickedness of the fiends. Casks are filled with the slave, and in these they are stowed away; or to lighten the vessel, they are flung overboard by the score; sometimes they are flung overboard in casks, that the chasing ship may be detained by endeavours to pick them up; the dying and the dead strew the deck; women giving birth to the fruit of the womb, amidst the corpses of their husbands and their children; and other, yet worse and nameless atrocities, fill up the terrible picture, of impotent justice and triumphant guilt. But the guilt is not all Spanish and Portuguese. The English Government can enforce its demands on the puny cabinets of Madrid and Lisbon, scarce conscious of a substantive existence, in all that concerns our petty interests: wherever justice and mercy to mankind demand our interference, there our voice sinks within us, and no sound is uttered. That any treaty without an outfit clause should be suffered to exist between powers so situated, is an outrage upon all justice, all reason, all common sense. But one thing is certain, that unless we are to go further, we have gone too far, and must in mercy to hapless Africa retrace our steps. Unless we really put the traffic down with a strong hand, and instantly, we must instantly repeal the treaties that pretended to abolish it, for these exacerbate the evil a hundred fold, and are ineffectual to any one purpose but putting money into the pockets of our men of war. The fact is as unquestionable, as it is appalling, that all our anxious endeavours to extinguish the Foreign Slave Trade, have ended in making it incomparably worse than it was before we pretended to put it down; that owing to our efforts, there are thrice the number of slaves yearly torn from Africa; and that wholly because of our efforts, two thirds of these are murdered on the high seas and in the holds of the pirate vessels. It is said, that when these scenes were described to an indignant nation last session of Parliament, the actual effects of this bad system were denied, though its tendency could not be disputed. It was averred that "no British seaman could be capable of neglecting his duty for the sake of increasing the gains of the station." But nothing could be more absurd than this. Can the direct and inevitable tendency of the head-money system be doubted? Are cruisers the only men over whom motives have no influence? Then why offer a reward at all? When they want no stimulus to perform their duty, why tell them that if the ship is empty, they get a hundred pounds: if laden, five thousand? They know the rules of arithmetic;--they understand the force of numbers. But, in truth, there is not an individual on all the coast of Africa who will be misled by such appeals, or suffer all this to divert them from their purpose of denouncing the system. There are persons high in rank among the best servants of the crown, who know the facts from their own observations, and who are ready to bear witness to the truth, in spite of all the attempts that have been made to silence them. The other great object of the African Institution regarded the West Indies. The preparation of the negroes for that freedom which was their absolute right, and could only be withheld for an hour, on the ground of their not being prepared for it, and therefore being better without it, was the first thing to be accomplished. Here the friends of the abolition, all but Mr. Stephen, suffered a great disappointment. He alone had uniformly-foretold that the hopes held out, as it seemed very reasonably, of better treatment resulting from the stoppage of the supply of hands, were fallacious. All else had supposed that interest might operate on men whom principle had failed to sway; that they whom no feelings of compassion for their fellow-creatures could move to do their duty, might be touched by a feeling of their own advantage, when interest coincided with duty. The Slave-mart is now closed, it was said; surely the stock on hand will be saved by all means, and not wasted when it can no longer be replaced. The argument was purposely rested on the low ground of regarding human beings as cattle, or even as inanimate chattels, and it was conceived that human life would be regarded of as much value as the wear and tear of beasts, of furniture, or of tools. Hence it was expected that a better system of treatment would follow, from the law which closed the African market, and warned every planter that his stock must be spared by better treatment, and kept up by breeding, since it no longer could be, as it hitherto had been, maintained by new supplies. Two considerations were, in these arguments, kept out of view, both of a practical nature, and both known to Mr. Stephen,--the cultivation of the Islands by agents having wholly different interests from their masters, and the gambling spirit of trading and culture which long habit had implanted in the West Indian nature. The comforts of the slave depended infinitely more upon the agent on the spot, than the owner generally resident in the mother country; and though the interest of the latter might lead to the saving of negro life, and care for negro comforts, the agent had no such motives to influence his conduct; besides, it was with the eyes of this agent that the planter must see, and he gave no credence to any accounts but his. Now the consequence of cruelty is to make men at war with its objects. No one but a most irritable person feels angry with his beast, and even the anger of such a person is of a moment's duration. But towards an inanimate chattel even the most irritable of sane men can feel nothing like rage. Why? Because in the one case there is little, in the other no conflict or resistance at all. It is otherwise with a slave; he is human, and can disobey--can even resist. This feeling always rankles in his oppressor's bosom, and makes the tyrannical superior hate, and the more oppress his slave. The agent on the spot feels thus, and thus acts; nor can the voice of the owner at a distance be heard, even if interest, clearly proved, were to prompt another course. But the chief cause of the evil is the spirit of speculation, and it affects and rules resident owners even more than absentees. Let sugar rise in price, and all cold calculations of ultimate loss to the gang are lost in the vehement thirst of great present gain. All, or nearly all, planters are in distressed circumstances. They look to the next few years as their time; and if the sun shines they must make hay. They are in the mine, toiling for a season, with every desire to escape and realize something to spend elsewhere. Therefore they make haste to be rich, and care little, should the speculation answer and much sugar bring in great gain, what becomes of the gang ten years hence. Add to all this, that any interference of the local legislatures to discourage sordid or cruel management, to clothe the slaves with rights, to prepare them for freedom by better education, to pave the way for emancipation by restraining the master's power, to create an intermediate State of transition from slavery to freedom by partial liberty, as by attaching them to the soil, and placing them in the preparatory state through which our ancestors in Europe passed from bondage in gross to entire independence--all such measures were in the absolute discretion; not of the planters, but of the resident agents, one of the worst communities in the world, who had little interest in preparing for an event which they deprecated, and whose feelings of party, as well as individually, were all ranged on the oppressor's side. All this Mr. Stephen, enlightened by experience, and wise by long reflection, clearly and alone foresaw; all this vision of the future was too surely realized by the event. No improvement of treatment took place; no additional liberality in the supplies was shown; no abstinence in the exaction of labour appeared; no interference of the Colonial Legislature to check misconduct was witnessed; far less was the least disposition perceived to give any rights to the slaves, any security against oppression, any title independent of his Master, any intermediate state or condition which might prepare him for freedom. It is enough to say, that a measure which every man, except Mr. Stephen, had regarded as the natural, almost the necessary effect of the abolition--attaching the slaves to the soil--was not so much as propounded, far less adopted; it may be even said, was never mentioned in any one local assembly of any of our numerous colonies, during the thirty years which elapsed between the abolition and the emancipation! This is unquestionable, and it is decisive. As soon as it began to be perceived that such was likely to be the result of the abolition in regard to the emancipation, Mr. Stephen's authority with his coadjutors, always high, rose in proportion to the confirmations which the event had lent his predictions; and his zealous endeavours and unwearied labours for the subversion of the accursed system became both more extensive and more effectual. If, however, strict justice requires the tribute which we have paid to this eminent person's distinguished services, justice also renders it imperative on the historian of the Abolition in all its branches, to record an error into which he fell. Having originally maintained that the traffic would survive the Act of 1807, in which he was right, that Act only imposing pecuniary penalties, he persisted in the same opinion after the Act of 1811 had made slave-trading a felony; and long after it had been effectually put down in the British dominions, he continued to maintain that it was carried on nearly as much as ever, reasoning upon calculations drawn from the island returns. Hence he insisted upon a general Registry Act, as essential to prevent the continuance of an importation which had little or no real existence. The importance of such a measure was undeniable, with a view to secure the good treatment of the negroes in the islands; but the extinction of the Slave Trade had long before been effectually accomplished. In the efforts to obtain Negro Emancipation, all the Abolitionists were now prepared to join. The conduct of the Colonial Assemblies having long shown the fallacy of those expectations which had been entertained of the good work being done in the islands as soon as the supply of new hands should be stopped by the Abolition, there remained no longer any doubt whatever, that the mother country alone could abate a nuisance hateful in the sight of God and man. Constant opportunities were therefore offered to agitate this great question, which was taken up by the enlightened, the humane, and the religious, all over the empire. The magnitude of the subject was indeed worthy of all the interest it excited. The destiny of nearly a million of human beings--nay, the question whether they should be treated as men with rational souls, or as the beasts which perish--should enjoy the liberty to which all God's creatures are entitled, as of right, or be harassed, oppressed, tormented, and stinted, both as regarded bodily food, and spiritual instruction--whether the colonies should be peopled with tyrants and barbarians, or inhabited by civilized and improving christian communities--was one calculated to put in action all the best principles of our nature, and to move all the noblest feelings of the human heart. Thomas Clarkson, as far as his means extended, aided this great excitement. He renewed his committees of correspondence all over the country; aided by the Society of Friends, his early and steady coadjutors in this pious work, he recommenced the epistolary intercourse with the provinces, held for so many hopeless years on the Slave Trade, but now made far more promising by the victory which had been obtained, and by the unanimity with which all Abolitionists now were resolved to procure emancipation. He also recommenced his journeys through the different parts of the island, and visited in succession part of Scotland, almost all England, and the whole of Wales, encouraging and interesting the friends of humanity wherever he went, and forming local societies and committees for furthering the common object. But it was, after all, in Parliament that the battle must be fought; and Mr. Buxton, of whose invaluable services in the House of Commons the cause has lately been deprived, repeatedly, with the support of Messrs. Wilberforce, William Smith, Brougham, Lushington, and others, urged the necessity of interference upon the representatives of a people unanimous in demanding it; and he repeatedly urged it in vain. The Government always leaned towards the planter, and the most flimsy excuses were constantly given for preferring to the effectual measures propounded by the Abolitionists, the most flimsy of expedients, useless for any one purpose, save that of making pretences and gaining time. At length came the great case of the missionary Smith's persecution, trial, and untimely death, when all the forms of judicature had been prostituted, all the rules of law broken, all the principles of justice outraged, by men assuming to sit in judgment as a court of criminal jurisprudence; and though assisted by legal functionaries, exhibiting such a spectacle of daring violation of the most received and best known canons of procedure, as no civilized community ever before were called upon to endure. This subject was immediately brought before Parliament by Mr. Brougham, and his motion of censure, which might have been an impeachment of the governor and the court of Demerara, was powerfully supported by Mr. Wilberforce, the amiable, eloquent, and venerable leader of the party, Mr. Denman, Mr. Williams, and Dr. Lushington, but rejected by a majority of the Commons, whom Mr. Canning led, in a speech little worthy of his former exertions against the Slave Trade, and far from being creditable either to his judgment or to his principles. Yet this memorable debate was of singular service to the cause. The great speeches delivered were spread through all parts of the country; the nakedness of the horrid system was exposed; the corruptions as well as cruelty of slavery were laid bare; the determination of colonies to protect its worst abuses was demonstrated; necessity of the mother-country interfering with a strong hand was declared; and even the loss of the motion showed the people of England how much their own exertions were still required if they would see slavery extirpated, by proving that upon them alone the fate of the execrable system hung. The effects of this great debate cannot be over estimated. The case of the missionary became the universal topic; The name of the martyred Smith, the general rallying cry. The superior interest excited by individual sufferings to any general misery inflicted upon masses of the people, or any evil, however gigantic, which operates over a large space, and in a course of time, has always been observed. The remark was peculiarly applicable in this instance. Although all reflecting men had, for many long years, been well aware of the evils pervading our colonial system, and though the iniquity and perverseness of West Indian judicatures had long been the topic of universal comment, yet this single case of a persecuted individual falling a victim to those gross perversions of law and justice which are familiar to the colonial people, produced an impression far more general and more deep than all that had ever been written or declaimed against system of West India slavery; and looking back on the consummation of all our hopes in 1833 and 1838, we at once revert from this auspicious era to that ever memorable occasion as having laid the solid foundation of our ultimate triumph. In this important day, which has thus by its effects proved decisive of the Emancipation question, Mr. Stephen bore no part. He had long ceased to adorn and enlighten the House of Commons. His retirement was the result of honest differences of opinion respecting West India slavery with his political friends, then in the plenitude of their power. Those differences caused him to take the noble part, so rarely acted by politicians, of withdrawing from Parliament rather than lend his great support to men with whom he differed upon a question admitting no compromise; and he devoted his exertions in private life to the furtherance of the cause ever nearest his heart, the publication of his able and elaborate work on the Colonial Slave Laws was the fruit of his leisure; and had he never lent any other aid to the Emancipation, this would alone have placed him high among its most able and effective supporters. In all the consultations which were held before Mr. Brougham's motion in 1824, he bore an active and useful part. In pushing the advantages gained by the debate he was unwearied and successful. Unhappily it pleased Providence that he should not receive here below the final reward of his long and valued labours; for he was called to his final repose some months before the Emancipation Bill passed into a law. There remains little to add, except that this measure, which was carried with little opposition in 1833, owed its success in Parliament to the ample bribe of twenty millions, by which the acquiescence of the West Indians was purchased. The measure had hardly come into operation, when all men perceived that the intermediate state of apprenticeship was anything rather than a preparation for freedom, and anything rather than a mitigation of slavery. It is due to some able and distinguished friends of the negro race to state, that they all along were averse to this plan of a transition state. Lord Howick, then in the Colonial Office as Under-Secretary, went so far as to leave the department, from his dislike of this part of the measure. Mr. Buxton and others protested against it. Even its friends intimated that they wished the period of apprenticeship to end in 1838 instead of 1840; but there was a general belief of the preparatory step being necessary,--a belief apparently founded on experience of the negro character, and indeed of the vicious tendency of all slavery, to extinguish the power of voluntary labour, as well as to make the sudden change to freedom unsafe for the peace of the community. The fact soon dispersed these opinions. Antigua in a minute emancipated all her slaves to the number of thirty thousand and upwards. Not a complaint was ever heard of idleness or indolence; and, far from any breach of the peace being induced by the sudden change in the condition of the people, the Christmas of 1833 was the first, for the last twenty years, that martial law was not proclaimed, in order to preserve the public peace. Similar evidence from Jamaica and other islands, proving the industrious and peaceable habits of the apprentices, showed that there was nothing peculiar in the circumstances of Antigua. An important occurrence is now to be recorded as having exercised a powerful influence upon the question of immediate emancipation. Joseph Sturge, of Birmingham, a member of the Society of Friends, stricken with a sense of the injustice perpetrated against the African race, repaired to the West Indies, in order that he might examine, with his own eyes, the real state of the question between the two classes. He was accompanied by John Scoble and Thomas Harvey; and these able, excellent, and zealous men returned in a few months with such ample evidence of the effects produced by apprenticeship, and the fitness of the negroes for liberty, that the attention of the community was soon awakened to the subject, even more strenuously than it ever before had been; and the walls of Parliament were soon made once more to ring with the sufferings of the slave, only emancipated in name, and the injustice of withholding from him any longer the freedom which was his indefeasible right, as soon as he was shown capable of enjoying it beneficially for himself and safely for the rest of the community. In these transactions, both in Jamaica, where he is one of the largest planters, and in Parliament, where he is one of the most respected members, the Marquess of Sligo bore an eminent and an honourable part. His praise has been justly sounded by all who have supported the cause of negro freedom, and his conduct was by all admitted to be as much marked by the disinterested virtue of a good citizen and amiable man, as it was by the sagacity and ability of an enlightened statesman. Both as governor of Jamaica, as the owner of slaves whom he voluntarily liberated, and as a peer of Parliament, his patriotism, his humanity, and his talents, shone conspicuously through this severe and glorious struggle. While such was the conduct of those eminent philanthropists, some difference of opinion prevailed among the other and older leaders of the cause, chiefly grounded upon doubts whether the arrangement made by Parliament in 1833, might not be regarded as a compact with the planters which it would be unjust to violate by terminating their right to the labour of the apprentices at a period earlier than the one fixed in the Emancipation Act. A little consideration of the question at issue soon dispelled those doubts, and removed every obstacle to united exertion, by restoring entire unanimity of opinion. The slaves, it was triumphantly affirmed, were no party to the compact. But moreover, the whole arrangement of the apprenticeship was intended as a benefit to them, by giving them the preparation thought to be required before they could, safely for themselves, be admitted to unrestricted freedom,--not as a benefit to the planters, whose acquiescence was purchased with the grant of twenty millions. Experience having shown that no preparation at all was required, it was preposterous to continue the restraint upon natural liberty an hour longer, as regarded the negroes,--the only party whom we had any right to consider in the question; and as for the planters there was the grossest absurdity in further regarding any interests or any claims of theirs. The arrangement of 1833, as far as regards the transition or intermediate state, had been made under an error in fact, an error propagated by the representations of the masters. That error was now at an end, and an immediate alteration of the provisions to which it had given rise was thus a matter of strict justice;--not to mention that the planters had failed to perform their part of the contract. The Colonial Assemblies had, except in Antigua, done nothing for the slave in return for the large sum bestowed upon the West India body. So that in any view there was an end of all pretext for the further delay of right and justice. The ground now taken by the whole Abolitionists; therefore, both in and out of Parliament was, that the two years which remained of the indentured apprenticeship must immediately be cut off, and freedom given to the slaves in August, 1838, instead of 1840; The peace of the West Indian community, and the real interests of the planters, were affirmed to be as much concerned in this change as the rights of the negroes themselves. Far from preparing them for becoming peaceable subjects and contented members of society at the end of their apprenticeship, those two years of compulsory labour would, it was justly observed, be a period of heart-burning and discontent between master and servant, which must, in the mean while, be dangerous to the peace of society, and must leave, at the end of the time, a feeling of mutual ill-will and distrust. The question could no longer be kept from the cognizance of the negro people. Indeed, their most anxious expectations were already pointed towards immediate liberty, and their strongest feelings were roused to obtain it. Of these sentiments the whole community partook; meetings were everywhere held; petitions crowded the tables of Parliament; the press poured forth innumerable tracts which were eagerly received; the pulpit lent its aid to this holy cause; and discussions upon petitions and upon incidental motions shook the walls of Parliament, while they stimulated the zeal of the people. The Government adopted an unfortunate course, which contributed greatly to weaken their hold on the confidence and affections of the country; they resisted all the motions that were made on behalf of the slaves, and appeared to regard only the interests of the master, turning a deaf ear to the arguments of right and of justice. It was found, during the course of these debates, that a new Slave Trade had sprung up in the East Indies, with the sanction of an English Order in Council. Under pretence that hands were wanted to cultivate their estates, the Demerara planters had obtained permission to import what they termed, with a delicacy borrowed from the vocabulary of the African Slave Trade, "labourers" from Asia and from Africa east of the Cape, and to make them Indentured Apprentices for a term of years. No restrictions whatever were imposed by this unheard-of Order. No tonnage was required in proportion to the numbers shipped, no amount of provision, no medical assistance; no precautions were taken, or so much as thought of, to prevent kidnapping and fraud, nay, to prevent main force being used in any part of Eastern Africa, or of all Asia, in carrying on board the victims of West Indian avarice; in short, a worse Slave Trade than the African was established, and all the dominions of the East India Company, with all the African and Asiatic coasts, as yet independent, were given over to its ravages. This was repeatedly denounced by Lord Brougham in the House of Lords; and although his motion for rescinding the order was supported by Lord Lyndhurst, Lord Ellenborough, and Lord Wharncliffe, the influence of the Government and the planters prevailed, and the House rejected it. A bill was afterwards brought in to check the enormities complained of; but no remedy at all effectual is as yet applied. The official documents, however, proved that already men had been inveigled on board, by the agents of the Mauritius planters, in different parts of the East, and that the mortality on that comparatively short voyage exceeded even the dreadful waste of life which had characterized, and impressed with marks of horrid atrocity, the accursed Middle Passage. This subject, as might well be expected, once more roused the energies of Thomas Clarkson: he addressed an able and convincing letter to Lord Brougham, his old friend and coadjutor in the sacred cause; and it was printed and universally circulated. The subject still remains unsettled: and the labours of the enlightened philanthropist cannot now be directed to one more important, or more urgent. Meanwhile, in the spring of 1838, the question of Immediate Emancipation was agitated throughout the country. The Government proved hostile. Immense meetings were held at Exeter Hall, which were attended by many members of Parliament, over which Lord Brougham presided. Among others who were present and bore a distinguished part, were certain representatives of Ireland who promised their strenuous support. It is a painful duty to add, that their fellow-members from Ireland did not, on this great occasion, follow their good example; for eleven only of those, on whose votes reliance had been placed, opposed the Government, while no less than twenty-seven gave them support. The question was rejected by the House of Lords, when brought forward by Lord Brougham; but in spite of the efforts of the Government; the defalcation of the Irish, of a still greater proportion of the Scotch representatives, two hundred and seventeen members of the House of Commons voted for Immediate Abolition, out of four hundred and eighty-nine who were present on the occasion. A second effort in the same session placed Ministers in a minority; but they immediately gave notice, they should strenuously oppose any attempt to carry into practical effect this decision of the House; and in this determination they were supported by a majority on a third division. The word, however, had gone forth all over England, that the _Slave should be free_. It had not only pervaded Europe, it had reached America; and the West Indians at length perceived that they could no longer resist the voice of the British people, when it spoke the accents of humanity and of justice. The slaves would have met the dawn of the first of August,--the day which all the motions in Parliament and all the prayers of the petitions had fixed,--with perfect quiet, but with a resolute determination to do no work. The peace would not have been broken, but no more would a clod have been turned after that appointed sun had risen. A handful of whites surrounded by myriads of negroes,--now substantially free, and free without a blow,--must have been overwhelmed in an hour after sunrise on that day, had they resisted. The Colonial Legislatures, therefore, _now_ listened to the voice of reason, and they, one after another, emancipated their slaves. The first of August saw not a bondsman, under whatever appellation, in any part of the Western Sea which owns the British rule. The Mauritius, however, still held out, and on the Mauritius the hand of the Imperial Parliament must and will be laid, to enforce mercy and justice on those to whom mercy and justice have so long called aloud in vain. In truth, if the case for instant emancipation was strong everywhere, it was in no quarter half so strong as in the Mauritius; and the distribution of the grant by Parliament to this Colony was the most unjustifiable, and even incomprehensible. For, elsewhere, there existed at least a title to the slave, over whom an unjust and unchristian law recognised the right of property. But in the Mauritius there was not, nor is there now, one negro to whom a good title is clearly provable. The atrocious conduct of Governors and other functionaries, in conniving at the Slave Trade of Eastern Africa, had filled that Colony with thousands of negroes, every one of whom was carried there by the commission of felony, long after Slave Trading had been declared a capital crime by the law of the land, as by the law of nature it always was. Sir George Murray, when Colonial Secretary of State, had admitted, that at least thirty thousand of the negroes in the settlement were nominally slaves, but in reality free, having been carried thither contrary to law. He understated it by twenty thousand or more: yet on all these negroes, in respect of property, were two millions and more claimed: for all these the compensation money was given and taken, which Parliament had lavishly bestowed. How then was it possible to doubt, that every slave in the Mauritius should receive his freedom, when the only ground alleged for not singling out and liberating this fifty thousand, was the inability to distinguish them from the rest? If ten men are tried for an offence, and it is clear that five are innocent, though you cannot distinguish them from their companions, what jury will hesitate in acquitting the whole, on the ordinary principle of its being better five guilty should escape than five guiltless suffer? The same is still the state of the case in that most criminal settlement, which, having far surpassed all others in the enormity of its guilt, is now the only one where no attempt has been made to evince repentance by amendment of conduct. But the Government which has the power of compelling justice will share the crime which they refuse to prevent, and the Legislature must compel the Government, if their guilty reluctance shall continue, or it will take that guilt upon itself[A]. [Footnote A: It is truly gratifying to state, that the late Secretary for the Colonies, Lord Glenelg, has, since this was written, given the most satisfactory assurances of orders having been sent over for immediate emancipation, in case the former instructions to the Governor of Mauritius should have failed, to make the Colonists themselves adopt the measure. Lord Glenelg's conduct on this occasion is most creditable to him.] The latest act of Thomas Clarkson's life has been one which, or rather the occasion for which, it is truly painful to contemplate; but this too must be recorded, or the present historical sketch would be incomplete. He whose days had all been spent in acts of kindness and of justice to others, was at last forced to exert his powers, supposed, by some, and erroneously supposed, to be enfeebled by age, in obtaining redress for his own wrongs. He whose thoughts had all been devoted to the service of his fellow-creatures, was now obliged to think of himself. A life spent in works of genuine philanthropy, alike standing aloof from party, and retiring with genuine humility from the public gaze, might have well hoped to escape that detraction, which is the lot of those who assume the leading stations among their contemporaries, and mingle in the contentious scenes of worldly affairs. Or, at least, it might have been expected that his traducers would only be found among the oppressors of the New World, or the slave-traders of the Old. This felicity has not been his lot; and the evening of his days has been overcast by an assault upon his character, proceeding from the quarter of all others the most unexpected and the most strange. The sons of his old and dear friend William Wilberforce,--whose incomparable merits he had ever been the first to acknowledge, whom he loved as a brother, and revered as the great leader of the cause to which his whole life had been devoted,--in publishing a Life of their illustrious parent, thought fit to charge Thomas Clarkson with having suppressed his services while he exaggerated his own; and not content with bringing a charge utterly groundless, (as it was instantly proved,) they deemed it worthy of their subject and of their name, to drag forth into the light of day a private correspondence of a delicate nature, with the purpose of proving that their father and others had assisted him with money, and that he had been pressing in his demands of a subscription. Two extracts of Letters of his were printed by these reverend gentlemen, upon which a statement was afterwards grounded in the _Edinburgh Review_ of their book, that the subscription was raised to remunerate him for his services in the Abolition. They further asserted, that their father was in the field before him, and that it was under their father's direction that he, and the Abolition Committee of 1786, acted. In the whole history of controversy, we venture to affirm, there never was an instance of so triumphant a refutation as that by which these slanderous aspersions were instantly refuted, and their authors and their accomplices reduced to a silence as prudent as discreditable. The venerable philanthropist took up his pen, worn down in the cause of humanity and of justice. _First_, he showed, by incontrovertible evidence, the utter falsehood of the charge, that he had underrated the merits of others and exalted his own. These proofs were the references to his volumes themselves, which it really seemed as if the two reverend authors had never even looked into. He then proved to demonstration that he had taken the field earlier than William Wilberforce. This was shown, first, by known dates, matter of history; next, by letters from the friends of both parties, as Archdeacon Corbet and William Smith; but, lastly, by the words of William Wilberforce himself, as well privately as at public meetings, asserting that he (William Wilberforce) came into the field after his valued friend. But a striking fact may be cited, as a sample at once of the course pursued by the assailants, and the completeness of the defence. The reverend authors in proof of their unqualified assertion, that Thomas Clarkson and the Committee acted from the first under William Wilberforce's directions, refer to "MS. Minutes of the Committee" for their authority. But the friend who so ably superintended the publication of Thomas Clarkson's defence, and who added to that tract an appendix of singular merit and great interest (H.C. Robinson), showed that the parts referred to by the reverend authors, in proof of their assertion, completely disproved it; and that six months after the Committee had been working, William Wilberforce applied to them for any information of which they might be possessed on the subject of the Slave Trade. But the publication of the letters and the colour given to the transaction were far worse. The preservation of that correspondence, at all, by the sons, could only be justified by the belief of its being accidentally kept by the father, but, of course, never intended to be made public; least of all without the usual precaution of asking the writer's leave, and giving him the opportunity of explaining it. The biographers printed it without any kind of communication with him, and he saw it for the first time in print. Then, the attempt was made to represent this pure, and valuable, and disinterested man as a mendicant philanthropist, who, for his exertions in the cause of justice, stooped to the humiliating attitude of collecting a remuneration from his friends. The words of William Wilberforce, and other Abolition leaders, prove that he had expended a very considerable portion of his own small patrimony in the cause, and that the subscription was to pay a debt,--a just and lawful debt; not to confer a bounty, or reward, or remuneration for services performed. It is also proved, that after being reimbursed to the amount of the sum contributed, or rather levied on those for whom the poorest of their body had advanced his own money, he remained out of pocket far more than others had ever given, after their share of the repayment was credited to them, in this debtor and creditor account. But this is not all: Mr. Wilberforce himself, then a man of ample fortune, and Member for Yorkshire, had in 1807, published a pamphlet in the cause. The Minutes of the Committee for 6th June, 1811, contained an entry of an order to pay 83_l_. out of the subscription funds to Mr. Cadell, being Mr. Wilberforce's share of the loss sustained by that publication. There had been no mention at all of this in his life, by these reverend authors, who scrupled not to print the garbled letters, with the manifest design of lowering the character of their father's friend, by ranking him among venal stipendiary pretenders to philanthropy, and jobbing mendicant patriots. Wherefore, it may be asked, was this matter at all dragged forth to light, except to effect that unworthy purpose, and to give pain to a man as eminently as deservedly respected and beloved? The false pretext is, the vindication of their father's memory.--But it had never been attacked. They affect to suppose such an attack, that they may have a pretext for inflicting a wound in a fictitious and almost a fraudulent defence.--But if it had been ever so rudely attacked, the letters are no defence. For the only possible pretence of attack was the notion of Thomas Clarkson having assumed the priority, and these letters can have no earthly relation to that point. Whether Wilberforce, or Clarkson, or neither of them, first began the abolition struggle, is a question as utterly wide of the subscription as any one private matter in the life of either party can be of any one public transaction in which both were engaged. The indignation of mankind was awakened by this disgraceful proceeding, and it was in vain that the friends of the Wilberforces urged, as some extenuation of their offence, the zeal which they naturally cherished for the memory of their parent. Men of reflection felt that no well-regulated mind can ever engage in slandering one person for the purpose of elevating another. Men of ordinary discernment perceived that the assaults on Clarkson's reputation had no possible tendency to raise Wilberforce's reputation. Men of observation saw at once that there lurked behind the wish to praise the one party, a desire to wound the other; and gave them far less credit for over-anxiety to gratify their filial affections than eagerness to indulge their hostile feelings. It was plain, too, that they sought this gratification at the hazard of bringing a stain upon the memory of their father; for what could be more natural than the suspicion that they had obtained from him the materials out of which their web of detraction was woven? And what more discreditable to the author of the affectionate and familiar letters of Wilberforce to Clarkson than their discrepancy with the charges now urged against him? It is due to the memory of this venerable man, now gone to his rest, to say that no one who knew him, ever so slightly, could believe in the possibility of his holding one language to his friend and another to his children: far less of his bequeathing to them anything like materials for the attack upon one to whom he professed the most warm and steady attachment. But if such be the conclusion of all who knew the man, assuredly in arriving at it they have derived no help from the lights afforded by his family. The vindication of Thomas Clarkson has been triumphant; the punishment of his traducers has been exemplary. His character stands higher than ever; his name is lofty and it is unsullied; they have a character to retrieve,--a name which they have tarnished since it descended upon them, they have to restore by their own future deserts. The astonishment of the world was at its pitch when the champion of Abolition, the steady ally of Thomas Clarkson and Granville Sharpe, the _Edinburgh Review_, was seen attempting to rescue these parties, and taking part against the injured man, the patriarch of a cause defended by that celebrated Journal during a brilliant period of much above thirty years. The boldness displayed in its pages on this occasion was excessive. As if feeling that the weak and indefensible part in the assault was the publishing of the letters, it had the confidence to affirm, that this proceeding was called for in justice to Wilberforce's memory. So daring an attempt upon the integrity of facts has not often been witnessed. What! The publication of these letters, which had no possible connexion with Wilberforce's character, (a character, indeed, that no one had assailed,) letters which were absolutely foreign even to the question of priority in the abolition cause,--the publication of these necessary to the defence of Wilberforce? Then, upon what ground necessary? How had he been attacked? Where was he to be defended? But, if attacked, how did the letters aid,--how connect themselves with,--how, in any manner of way, bear upon the defence, or any defence, or any portion of Wilberforce's character and life? They showed him to have contributed towards the payment of a debt he had contracted to Clarkson. But who had ever charged him with refusing to pay his debts? With his merits as to the Abolition, (if that be what is meant by his character,)--merits which it was a mere fabrication to pretend that Clarkson had ever been slow to acknowledge,--those letters had absolutely no possible connexion; and whoever, on this score, affects to defend this publication, is capable of vindicating the printing any private letter upon the most delicate subject, by any man who writes the history of any other affair, or who writes on any subject from which the correspondence is wholly foreign. It is proper to add, that the editors of this Journal have most properly published a retractation of the charges made, in their ignorance of the whole facts of the case. The acute and sagacious editor of T. Clarkson's vindication, has given his reasons for suspecting that this criticism, in the _Edinburgh Review_, must have proceeded from some party directly concerned in the publication of Wilberforce's life. We enter into no discussion of the circumstantial evidence adduced in favour of this supposition. The editors of the Journal are the parties to whom we look; and as they, after being to all appearance misled by some partial writer, have made the best reparation for an involuntary error, by doing justice to the injured party, we can have no further remark to make upon the subject. But it is impossible to close these pages without mentioning the extraordinary merit of this latest, and, in all likelihood, this last production of Clarkson's pen. It is indeed a most able performance, and has been admired by some of the ablest controversial writers of the age, as a model of excellence in controversial writing. Plain, vigorous, convincing, perfectly calm and temperate, devoid of all acrimony, barely saying enough to repel unjust aggression without one word of retaliation, never losing sight for a moment of its purely defensive object, and accordingly, from the singleness of purpose with which that object is pursued, attaining it with the most triumphant success,--no wonder that the public judgment has been loudly and universally pronounced in its favour, that its adversaries have been reduced to absolute silence, that its author's name has been exalted even higher than before it stood. But the wonder is to see such unimpaired vigour at four-score years of age, after a life of unwearied labour, latterly clouded by domestic calamity, and a spirit as young as ever in zeal for justice, tempered only by the mellowness which the kindly heart spreads over the fruits of the manly understanding. There wanted no testimonials of esteem from his country to consummate the venerable philanthropist's renown; yet these too have been added. Various meetings have addressed their gratulations to him. Of these the great corporation of London claims the first regard, and after presenting him with the freedom of the city, they have ordered to be erected in their hall, as a memorial of his extraordinary virtue, a likeness of the mortal form of Thomas Clarkson. * * * * * HISTORY OF THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE TRADE. * * * * * CHAPTER I. No subject more pleasing than that of the removal of evils.--Evils have existed almost from the beginning of the world; but there is a power in our nature to counteract them--this power increased by Christianity.--Of the evils removed by Christianity one of the greatest is the Slave Trade.--The joy we ought to feel on its abolition from a contemplation of the nature of it; and of the extent of it; and of the difficulty of subduing it.--Usefulness also of the contemplation of this subject. I scarcely know of any subject, the contemplation of which is more pleasing, than that of the correction or of the removal of any of the acknowledged evils of life; for while we rejoice to think that the sufferings of our fellow-creatures have been thus, in any instance, relieved, we must rejoice equally to think, that our own moral condition must have been necessarily improved by the change. That evils, both physical and moral, have existed long upon earth there can be no doubt. One of the sacred writers, to whom we more immediately appeal for the early history of mankind, informs us that the state of our first parents was a state of innocence and happiness; but that, soon after their creation, sin and misery entered into the world. The poets in their fables, most of which, however extravagant they may seem, had their origin in truth, speak the same language. Some of these represent the first condition of man by the figure of the golden, and his subsequent degeneracy and subjection to suffering by that of the silver, and afterwards of the iron age. Others tell us that the first female was made of clay; that she was called Pandora, because every necessary gift, qualification, or endowment, was given to her by the gods, but that she received from Jupiter, at the same time, a box from which, when opened, a multitude of disorders sprung, and that these spread themselves immediately afterwards among all of the human race. Thus it appears, whatever authorities we consult, that those which may be termed the evils of life existed in the earliest times. And what does subsequent history, combined with our own experience, tell us, but that these have been continued, or that they have come down in different degrees through successive generations of men, in all the known countries of the universe, to the present day? But though the inequality visible in the different conditions of life, and the passions interwoven into our nature, (both which have been allotted to us for wise purposes, and without which we could not easily afford a proof of the existence of that, which is denominated virtue,) have a tendency to produce vice and wretchedness among us, yet we see, in this our constitution, what may operate partially as preventives and corrective of them. If there be a radical propensity in our nature to do that which is wrong, there is, on the other hand, a counteracting power within it, or an impulse by means of the action of the divine Spirit upon our minds, which urges us to do that which is right. If the voice of temptation, clothed in musical and seducing accents, charms us one way, the voice of holiness, speaking to us from within, in a solemn and powerful manner, commands us another. Does one man obtain a victory over his corrupt affections? an immediate perception of pleasure, like the feeling of a reward divinely conferred upon him, is noticed. Does another fall prostrate beneath their power? a painful feeling, and such as pronounces to him the sentence of reproof and punishment is found to follow. If one, by suffering his heart to become hardened, oppresses a fellow-creature, the tear of sympathy starts up in the eye of another, and the latter instantly feels a desire, involuntarily generated, of flying to his relief. Thus impulses, feelings, and dispositions have been implanted in our nature, for the purpose of preventing and rectifying the evils of life. And as these have operated, so as to stimulate some men to lessen them by the exercise of an amiable charity, so they have operated to stimulate others in various other ways to the same end. Hence the philosopher has left moral precepts behind him in favour of benevolence, and the legislator has endeavoured to prevent barbarous practices by the introduction of laws. In consequence then of these impulses and feelings, by which the pure power in our nature is thus made to act as a check upon the evil part of it, and in consequence of the influence which philosophy and legislative wisdom have had in their respective provinces, there has been always, in all times and countries, a counteracting energy, which has opposed itself, more or less, to the crimes and miseries of mankind. But it seems to have been reserved for Christianity to increase this energy, and to give it the widest possible domain. It was reserved for her, under the same divine influence, to give the best views of the nature and of the present and future condition of man; to afford the best moral precepts, to communicate the most benign stimulus to the heart, to produce the most blameless conduct, and thus to cut off many of the causes of wretchedness, and to heal it wherever it was found. At her command, wherever she has been duly acknowledged, many of the evils of life have already fled. The prisoner of war is no longer led into the amphitheatre to become a gladiator, and to imbrue his hands in the blood of his fellow-captive for the sport of a thoughtless multitude. The stern priest, cruel through fanaticism and custom, no longer leads his fellow-creature to the altar to sacrifice him to fictitious gods. The venerable martyr, courageous through faith and the sanctity of his life, is no longer hurried to the flames. The haggard witch, poring over her incantations by moon-light, no longer scatters her superstitious poison among her miserable neighbours, nor suffers for her crime. But in whatever way Christianity may have operated towards the increase of this energy, or towards a diminution of human misery, it has operated in none more powerfully than by the new views and consequent duties, which it introduced on the subject of charity, or practical benevolence and love. Men in ancient times looked upon their talents, of whatever description, as, their own, which they might use, or cease to use at their discretion. But the Author of our religion was the first who taught that, however in a legal point of view, the talent of individuals might belong exclusively to themselves, so that no other person had a right to demand the use of it by force, yet in the Christian dispensation they were but the stewards of it for good; that so much was expected from this stewardship, that it was difficult for those who were intrusted with it to enter into his spiritual kingdom; that these had no right to conceal their talent in a napkin, but that they were bound to dispense a portion of it to the relief of their fellow-creatures; and that, in proportion to the magnitude of it, they were accountable for the extensiveness of its use. He was the first who pronounced the misapplication of it to be a crime, and to be a crime of no ordinary dimensions. He was the first who broke down the boundary between Jew and Gentile, and, therefore, the first who pointed out to men the inhabitants of other countries, for the exercise of their philanthropy and love. Hence a distinction is to be made both in the principle and practice of charity, as existing in ancient or in modern times. Though the old philosophers, historians, and poets, frequently inculcated benevolence, we have no reason to conclude from any facts they have left us, that persons in their days did anything more than occasionally relieve an unfortunate object, who might present himself before them, or that, however they might deplore the existence of public evils among them, they joined in associations for their suppression, or that they carried their charity, as bodies of men, into other kingdoms. To Christianity alone we are indebted for the new and sublime spectacle, of seeing men going beyond the bounds of individual usefulness to each other; of seeing them associate for the extirpation of private and public misery; and of seeing them carry their charity, as a united brotherhood, into distant lands. And in this wider field of benevolence it would be unjust not to confess, that no country has shone with more true lustre than our own, there being scarcely any case of acknowledged affliction, for which some of her Christian children have not united in an attempt to provide relief. Among the evils corrected or subdued, either by the general influence of Christianity on the minds of men, or by particular associations of Christians, the African[A]. Slave Trade appears to me to have occupied the foremost place. The abolition of it, therefore, of which it has devolved upon me to write the history, should be accounted as one of the greatest blessings, and as such should be one of the most copious sources of our joy: indeed, I know of no evil, the removal of which should excite in us a higher degree of pleasure. For, in considerations of this kind, are we not usually influenced by circumstances? Are not our feelings usually affected according to the situation, or the magnitude, or the importance of these? Are they not more or less elevated, as the evil under our contemplation has been more or less productive of misery, or more or less productive of guilt? Are they not more or less elevated again, as we have found it more or less considerable in extent? Our sensations will undoubtedly be in proportion to such circumstances, or our joy to the appreciation or mensuration of the evil which has been removed. [Footnote A: Slavery had been before annihilated by Christianity; I mean in the West of Europe, at the close of the twelfth century] To value the blessing of the abolition as we ought, or to appreciate the joy and gratitude which we ought to feel concerning it, we must enter a little into the circumstances of the trade. Our statement, however, of these needs not be long: a few pages will do all that is necessary! A glance only into such a subject as this will be sufficient to affect the heart,--to arouse our indignation and our pity,--and to teach us the importance of the victory obtained. The first subject for consideration, towards enabling us to make the estimate in question, will be that of the nature of the evil belonging to the Slave Trade. This may be seen by examining it in three points of view. First, as it has been proved to arise on the Continent of Africa, in the course of reducing the inhabitants of it to slavery. Secondly, in the course of conveying them from thence to the lands or colonies of other nations. And, thirdly, in continuing them there as slaves. To see it, as it has been shown, to arise in the first case, let us suppose ourselves on the Continent just mentioned. Well then, We are landed,--We are already upon our travels,--We have just passed through one forest,--We are now come to a more open place, which indicates an approach to habitation. And what object is that which first obtrudes itself upon our sight? Who is that wretched woman whom we discover under that noble tree, wringing her hands, and beating her breast, as if in the agonies of despair? Three days has she been there, at intervals, to look and to watch; and this is the fourth morning, and no tidings of her children yet. Beneath its spreading boughs they were accustomed to play: but, alas! the savage man-stealer interrupted their playful mirth, and has taken them for ever from her sight. But let us leave the cries of this unfortunate woman, and hasten into another district. And what do we first see here? Who is he that just now started across the narrow pathway, as if afraid of a human face? What is that sudden rustling among the leaves? Why are those persons flying from our approach, and hiding themselves in yon darkest thicket? Behold, as we get into the plain, a deserted village! The rice-field has been just trodden down around it; an aged man,--venerable by his silver beard,--lies wounded and dying near the threshold of his hut. War, suddenly instigated by avarice, has just visited the dwellings which we see. The old have been butchered, because unfit for slavery, and the young have been carried off, except such as have fallen in the conflict, or have escaped among the woods behind us. But let us hasten from this cruel scene, which gives rise to so many melancholy reflections. Let us cross yon distant river, and enter into some new domain. But are we relieved even here from afflicting spectacles? Look at that immense crowd which appears to be gathered in a ring. See the accused innocent in the middle! The ordeal of poisonous water has been administered to him, as a test of his innocence or his guilt: he begins to be sick and pale. Alas! yon mournful shriek of his relatives confirms that the loss of his freedom is now sealed. And whither shall we go now? the night is approaching fast. Let us find some friendly hut, where sleep may make us forget for a while the sorrows of the day. Behold a hospitable native ready to receive us at his door! let us avail ourselves of his kindness. And now let its give ourselves to repose. But why, when our eyelids are but just closed, do we find ourselves thus suddenly awakened? What is the meaning of the noise around us, of the trampling of people's feet, of the rustling of the bow, the quiver, and the lance? Let us rise up and inquire. Behold! the inhabitants are all alarmed! a wakeful woman has shown them yon distant column of smoke and blaze. The neighbouring village is on fire: the prince, unfaithful to the sacred duty of the protection of his subjects, has surrounded them. He is now burning their habitations, and seizing, as saleable booty, the fugitives from the flames. Such then are some of the scenes that have been passing in Africa, in consequence, of the existence of the Slave Trade; or such is the nature of the evil, as it has shown itself in the first of the cases we have noticed. Let us now estimate it as it has been proved to exist in the second; or let us examine the state of the unhappy Africans reduced to slavery in this manner, while on board the vessels, which are to convey them across the ocean to other lands. And here I must observe at once, that, as far as this part of the evil is concerned, I am at a loss to describe it. Where shall I find words to express properly their sorrow, as arising from the reflection of being parted for ever from their friends, their relatives, and their country? Where shall I find language to paint, in appropriate colours, the horror of mind brought on by thoughts of their future unknown destination, of which they can augur nothing but misery from all that they have yet seen? How shall I make known their situation, while labouring, under painful disease, or while struggling in the suffocating holds of their prisons, like animals enclosed in an exhausted receiver? How shall I describe their feelings as exposed to all the personal indignities, which lawless appetite or brutal passion may suggest? How shall I exhibit their sufferings as determining to refuse sustenance and die, or as resolving to break their chains, and, disdaining to live as slaves, to punish their oppressors? How shall I give an idea of their agony when under various punishments and tortures for their reputed crimes? Indeed, every part of this subject defies my powers, and I must, therefore, satisfy myself and the reader with a general representation, or in the words of a celebrated member of Parliament, that "Never was so much human suffering condensed in so small a space." I come now to the evil, as it has been proved to arise in the third case; or to consider the situation of the unhappy victims of the trade, when their painful voyages are over, or after they have been landed upon their destined shores. And here we are to view them, first under the degrading light of cattle: we are to see them examined, handled, selected, separated, and sold. Alas! relatives are separated from relatives, as if, like cattle, they had no rational intellect, no power of feeling the nearness of relationship, nor sense of the duties belonging to the ties of life! We are next to see them labouring; and this for the benefit of those to whom they are under no obligation, by any law either natural or divine, to obey. We are to see them, if refusing the commands of their purchasers, however weary, or feeble, or indisposed, subject to corporal punishments, and if forcibly resisting them to death: we are to see them in a state of general degradation and misery. The knowledge which their oppressors have of their own crime, in having violated the rights of nature, and of the disposition of the injured to seek all opportunities of revenge, produces a fear which dictates to them the necessity of a system of treatment, by which they shall keep up a wide distinction between the two, and by which the noble feelings of the latter shall be kept down, and their spirits broken. We are to see them again subject to individual persecution, as anger, or malice, or any bad passion may suggest: hence the whip, the chain, the iron-collar! hence the various modes of private torture, of which so many accounts have been truly given. Nor can such horrible cruelties be discovered so as to be made punishable, while the testimony of any number of the oppressed is invalid against the oppressors, however they may be offences against the laws. And, lastly, we are to see their innocent offspring, against whose personal liberty the shadow of an argument cannot be advanced, inheriting all the miseries of their parents' lot. The evil then, as far as it has been hitherto viewed, presents to us, in its three several departments, a measure of human suffering not to be equalled--not to be calculated--not to be described. But would that we could consider this part of the subject as dismissed! would that in each of the departments now examined there was no counterpart left us to contemplate! But this cannot be; for if there be persons who suffer unjustly there must be others who oppress: and if there be those who oppress, there must be to the suffering, which has been occasioned, a corresponding portion of immorality or guilt. We are obliged then to view the counterpart of the evil in question, before we can make a proper estimate of the nature of it. And, in examining this part of it, we shall find that we have a no less frightful picture to behold than in the former cases; or that, while the miseries endured by the unfortunate Africans excite our pity on the one hand, the vices, which are connected with them, provoke our indignation and abhorrence on the other. The Slave Trade, in this point of view, must strike us as an immense mass of evil on account of the criminality attached to it, as displayed in the various branches of it, which have already been examined. For, to take the counterpart of the evil in the first of these, can we say that no moral turpitude is to be placed to the account of those, who, living on the continent of Africa, give birth to the enormities, which take place in consequence of the prosecution of this trade? Is not that man made morally worse, who is induced to become a tiger to his species, or who, instigated by avarice, lies in wait in the thicket to get possession of his fellow-man? Is no injustice manifest in the land, where the prince, unfaithful to his duty, seizes his innocent subjects, and sells them for slaves? Are no moral evils produced among those communities, which make war upon other communities for the sake of plunder, and without any previous provocation or offence? Does no crime attach to those, who accuse others falsely, or who multiply and divide crimes for the sake of the profit of the punishment, and who for the same reason continue the use of barbarous and absurd ordeals as a test of innocence or guilt? In the second of these branches, the counterpart of the evil is to be seen in the conduct of those who purchase the miserable natives in their own country, and convey them to distant lands. And here questions, similar to the former, may be asked. Do they experience no corruption of their nature, or become chargeable with no violation of right, who, when they go with their ships to this continent, know the enormities which their visits there will occasion, who buy their fellow-creature man, and this, knowing the way in which he comes into their hands, and who chain, and imprison, and scourge him? Do the moral feelings of those persons escape without injury, whose hearts are hardened? And can the hearts of those be otherwise than hardened, who are familiar with the tears and groans of innocent strangers forcibly torn away from every thing that is dear to them in life, who are accustomed to see them on board their vessels in a state of suffocation and in the agonies of despair, and who are themselves in the habit of the cruel use of arbitrary power? The counterpart of the evil in its third branch is to be seen in the conduct of those, who, when these miserable people have been landed, purchase and carry them to their respective homes. And let us see whether a mass of wickedness is not generated also in the present case. Can those have nothing to answer for, who separate the faithful ties which nature and religion have created? Can their feelings be otherwise than corrupted, who consider their fellow-creatures as brutes, or treat those as cattle, who may become the temples of the Holy Spirit, and in whom the Divinity disdains not himself to dwell? Is there no injustice in forcing men to labour without wages? Is there no breach of duty, when we are commanded to clothe the naked, and feed the hungry, and visit the sick and in prison, in exposing them to want, in torturing them by cruel punishment, and in grinding them down by hard labour, so as to shorten their days? Is there no crime in adopting a system, which keeps down all the noble faculties of their souls, and which positively debases and corrupts their nature? Is there no crime in perpetuating these evils among their innocent offspring? And finally, besides all these crimes, is there not naturally in the familiar sight of the exercise, but more especially in the exercise itself, of uncontrolled power, that which vitiates the internal man? In seeing misery stalk daily over the land, do not all become insensibly hardened? By giving birth to that misery themselves, do they not become abandoned? In what state of society are the corrupt appetites so easily, so quickly, and so frequently indulged, and where else, by means of frequent indulgence, do these experience such a monstrous growth? Where else is the temper subject to such frequent irritation, or passion to such little control? Yes--if the unhappy slave is in an unfortunate situation, so is the tyrant who holds him. Action and reaction are equal to each other, as well in the moral as in the natural world. You cannot exercise an improper dominion over a fellow-creature, but by a wise ordering of Providence you must necessarily injure yourself. Having now considered the nature of the evil of the Slave Trade in its three separate departments of suffering, and in its corresponding counterparts of guilt, I shall make a few observations on the extent of it. On this subject it must strike us, that the misery and the crimes included in the evil, as it has been found in Africa, were not like common maladies, which make a short or periodical visit and then are gone, but that they were continued daily. Nor were they like diseases, which from local causes attack a village or a town, and by the skill of the physician, under the blessing of Providence, are removed; but they affected a whole continent. The trade with all its horrors began at the river Senegal, and continued, winding with the coast, through its several geographical divisions to Cape Negro; a distance of more than three thousand miles. In various lines or paths formed at right angles from the shore, and passing into the heart of the country, slaves were procured and brought down. The distance, which many of them travelled, was immense. Those, who have been in Africa, have assured us, that they came as far as from the sources of their largest rivers, which we know to be many hundred miles inland, and the natives have told us, in their way of computation, that they came a journey of many moons. It must strike us again, that the misery and the crimes, included in the evil, as it has been shown in the transportation, had no ordinary bounds. They were not to be seen in the crossing of a river, but of an ocean. They did not begin in the morning and end at night, but were continued for many weeks, and sometimes by casualties for a quarter of the year. They were not limited to the precincts of a solitary ship, but were spread among many vessels; and these were so constantly passing, that the ocean itself never ceased to be a witness of their existence. And it must strike us, finally, that the misery and crimes, included in the evil as it has been found in foreign lands, were not confined within the shores of a little island. Most of the islands of a continent, and many of these of considerable population and extent, were filled with them. And the continent itself, to which these geographically belong, was widely polluted by their domain. Hence, if we were to take the vast extent of space occupied by these crimes and sufferings from the heart of Africa to its shores, and that which they filled on the continent of America and the islands adjacent, and were to join the crimes and sufferings in one to those in the other, by the crimes and sufferings which took place in the track of the vessels successively crossing the Atlantic, we should behold a vast belt as it were of physical and moral evil, reaching through land and ocean to the length of nearly half the circle of the globe. The next view which I shall take of this evil will be as it relates to the difficulty of subduing it. This difficulty may be supposed to have been more than ordinarily great. Many evils of a public nature, which existed in former times, were the offspring of ignorance and superstition, and they were subdued of course by the progress of light and knowledge. But the evil in question began in avarice. It was nursed also by worldly interest. It did not therefore so easily yield to the usual correctives of disorders in the world. We may observe also, that the interest by which it was thus supported, was not that of a few individuals, nor of one body, but of many bodies of men. It was interwoven again into the system of the commerce and of the revenue of nations. Hence the merchant--the planter--the mortgagee--the manufacturer--the politician--the legislator--the cabinet-minister--lifted up their voices against the annihilation of it. For these reasons, the Slave Trade may be considered like the fabulous hydra, to have a hundred heads, every one of which it was necessary to cut off before it could be subdued. And as none but Hercules was fitted to conquer the one, so nothing less than extraordinary prudence, courage, labour, and patience, could overcome the other. To protection in this manner by his hundred interests, it was owing, that the monster stalked in security for so long a time. He stalked too in the open day, committing his mighty depredations. And when good men, whose duty it was to mark him as the object of their destruction, began to assail him, he did not fly, but gnashed his teeth at them, growling savagely at the same time, and putting himself into a posture of defiance. We see then, in whatever light we consider the Slave Trade, whether we examine into the nature of it, or whether we look into the extent of it, or whether we estimate the difficulty of subduing it, we must conclude that no evil more monstrous has ever existed upon earth. But if so, then we have proved the truth of the position, that the abolition of it ought to be accounted by us as one of the greatest blessings, and that it ought to be one of the most copious sources of our joy. Indeed, I do not know, how we can sufficiently express what we ought to feel upon this occasion. It becomes us, as individuals, to rejoice. It becomes us, as a nation, to rejoice. It becomes us even to perpetuate our joy to our posterity. I do not mean, however, by anniversaries, which are to be celebrated by the ringing of bells and convivial meetings, but by handing down this great event so impressively to our children, as to raise in them, if not continual, yet frequently renewed thanksgivings, to the great Creator of the universe, for the manifestation of this his favour, in having disposed our legislators to take away such a portion of suffering from our fellow-creatures, and such a load of guilt from our native land. And as the contemplation of the removal of this monstrous evil should excite in us the most pleasing and grateful sensations, so the perusal of the history of it should afford us lessons, which it must be useful to us to know or to be reminded of. For it cannot be otherwise than useful to us to know the means which have been used, and the different persons who have moved in so great a cause. It cannot be otherwise than useful to us to be impressively reminded of the simple axiom which the perusal of this history will particularly suggest to us, that "the greatest works must have a beginning;" because the fostering of such an idea in our minds cannot but encourage us to undertake the removal of evils, however vast they may appear in their size, or however difficult to overcome. It cannot, again, be otherwise than useful to us to be assured, (and this history will assure us of it,) that in any work, which is a work of righteousness, however small the beginning may be, or however small the progress may be that we may make in it, we ought never to despair; for that, whatever checks and discouragements we may meet with, "no virtuous effort is ever ultimately lost." And finally, it cannot be otherwise than useful to us, to form the opinion, which the contemplation of this subject must always produce, namely, that many of the evils which are still left among us, may, by an union of wise and virtuous individuals, be greatly alleviated, if not entirely done away; for if the great evil of the Slave Trade, so deeply entrenched by its hundred interests, has fallen prostrate before the efforts of those who attacked it, what evil of a less magnitude shall not be more easily subdued? O may reflections of this sort always enliven us, always encourage us, always stimulate us to our duty! May we never cease to believe, that many of the miseries of life are still to be remedied, or to rejoice that we may be permitted, if we will only make ourselves worthy by our endeavours, to heal them! May we encourage for this purpose every generous sympathy that arises in our hearts, as the offspring of the Divine influence for our good, convinced that we are not born for ourselves alone, and that the Divinity never so fully dwells in us, as when we do his will, and that we never do his will more agreeably, as far as it has been revealed to us, than when we employ our time in works of charity towards the rest of our fellow-creatures! CHAPTER II. As it is desirable to know the true sources of events in history, so this will be realized in that of the abolition of the Slave Trade.--Inquiry as to those who favoured the cause of the Africans previously to the year 1787.--All these to be considered as necessary forerunners in that cause.--First forerunners were Cardinal Ximenes; the Emperor Charles the Fifth; Pope Leo the Tenth; Elizabeth, queen of England; Louis the Thirteenth, of France. It would be considered by many, who have stood at the mouth of a river, and witnessed its torrent there, to be both an interesting and a pleasing journey to go to the fountain head, and then to travel on its banks downwards, and to mark the different streams in each side, which should run into it and feed it. So I presume the reader will not be a little interested and entertained, in viewing with me the course of the abolition of the Slave Trade, in first finding its source, and then in tracing the different springs which have contributed to its increase. And here I may observe that, in doing this, we shall have advantages, which historians have not always had in developing the causes of things. Many have handed down to us, events, for the production of which they have given us but their own conjectures. There has been often, indeed, such a distance between the events themselves, and the lives of those who have recorded them, that the different means and motives belonging to them have been lost through time. On the present occasion, however, we shall have the peculiar satisfaction of knowing, that we communicate the truth, or that those which we unfold, are the true causes and means; for the most remote of all the human springs, which can be traced as having any bearing upon the great event in question, will fall within the period of three centuries, and the most powerful of them within the last twenty years. These circumstances indeed have had their share in inducing me to engage in the present history. Had I measured it by the importance of the subject, I had been deterred; but believing that most readers love the truth, and that it ought to be the object of all writers to promote it, and believing, moreover, that I was in possession of more facts on this subject than any other person, I thought I was peculiarly called to undertake it. In tracing the different streams from whence the torrent arose, which has now happily swept away the Slave Trade, I must begin with an inquiry as to those who favoured the cause of the injured Africans, from the year 1516, to the year 1787, at which latter period, a number of persons associated themselves, in England, for its abolition. For though they, who belonged to this association, may, in consequence of having pursued a regular system, be called the principal actors, yet it must be acknowledged, that their efforts would never have been so effectual, if the minds of men had not been prepared by others, who had moved before them. Great events have never taken place without previously disposing causes. So it is in the case before us. Hence they, who lived even in early times, and favoured this great cause, may be said to have been necessary precursors in it. And here it may be proper to observe, that it is by no means necessary that all these should have been themselves actors in the production of this great event. Persons have contributed towards it in different ways:--Some have written expressly on the subject, who have had no opportunity of promoting it by personal exertions. Others have only mentioned it incidentally in their writings. Others, in an elevated rank and station, have cried out publicly concerning it, whose sayings have been recorded. All these, however, may be considered as necessary forerunners in their day; for all of them have brought the subject more or less into notice. They have more or less enlightened the mind upon it; they have more or less impressed it; and therefore each may be said to have had his share in diffusing and keeping up a certain portion of knowledge and feeling concerning it, which has been eminently useful in the promotion of the cause. It is rather remarkable, that the first forerunners and coadjutors should have been men in power. So early as in the year 1503, a few slaves had been sent from the Portuguese settlements in Africa into the Spanish colonies in America. In 1511, Ferdinand the Fifth, king of Spain, permitted them to be carried in great numbers. Ferdinand, however, must have been ignorant in these early times of the piratical manner in which the Portuguese had procured them. He could have known nothing of their treatment when in bondage, nor could he have viewed the few uncertain adventurous transportations of them into his dominions in the western world, in the light of a regular trade. After his death, however; a proposal was made by Bartholomew de las Casas, the bishop of Chiapa, to Cardinal Ximenes, who held the reigns of the government of Spain till Charles the Fifth came to the throne, for the establishment of a regular system of commerce in the persons of the native Africans. The object of Bartholomew de las Casas was undoubtedly to save the American Indians, whose cruel treatment and almost extirpation he had witnessed during his residence among them, and in whose behalf he had undertaken a voyage to the court of Spain. It is difficult to reconcile this proposal with the humane and charitable spirit of the bishop of Chiapa. But it is probable he believed that a code of laws would soon be established in favour both of Africans and of the natives in the Spanish settlements, and that he flattered himself that, being about to return and to live in the country of their slavery, he could look to the execution of it. The cardinal, however, with a foresight, a benevolence, and a justice which will always do honour to his memory, refused the proposal, not only judging it to be unlawful to consign innocent people to slavery at all, but to be very inconsistent to deliver the inhabitants of one country from a state of misery by consigning to it those of another. Ximenes, therefore, may be considered as one of the first great friends of the Africans after the partial beginning of the trade. This answer of the cardinal, as it showed his virtue as an individual, so was it peculiarly honourable to him as a public man, and ought to operate as a lesson to other statesmen, how they admit any thing new among political regulations and establishments, which is connected in the smallest degree with injustice; for evil, when once sanctioned by governments, spreads in a tenfold degree, and may, unless seasonably checked, become so ramified as to effect the reputation of a country, and to render its own removal scarcely possible without detriment to the political concerns of the state. In no instance has this been verified more than in the case of the Slave Trade. Never was our national character more tarnished, and our prosperity more clouded by guilt. Never was there a monster more difficult to subdue. Even they, who heard as it were the shrieks of oppression, and wished to assist the sufferers, were fearful of joining in their behalf. While they acknowledged the necessity of removing one evil, they were terrified by the prospect of introducing another; and were, therefore, only able to relieve their feelings by, lamenting, in the bitterness of their hearts, that this traffic had ever been begun at all. After the death of Cardinal Ximenes, the emperor Charles the Fifth, who had come into power, encouraged the Slave Trade. In 1517, he granted a patent to one of his Flemish favourites, containing an exclusive right of importing four thousand Africans into America. But he lived long enough to repent of what he had thus inconsiderately done; for in the year 1542, he made a code of laws for the better protection of the unfortunate Indians in his foreign dominions, and he stopped the progress of African slavery by an order that all slaves in his American islands should he made free. This order was executed by Pedro de la Gasca. Manumission took place as well in Hispaniola as on the Continent; but on the return of Gasca to Spain, and the retirement of Charles into a monastery, slavery was revived. It is impossible to pass over this instance of the abolition of slavery by Charles, in all his foreign dominions, without some comments. It shows him, first, to have been a friend both to the Indians and the Africans, as a part of the human race; it shows he was ignorant of what he was doing when he gave his sanction to this cruel trade; it shows when legislators give one set of men undue power over another, how quickly they abuse it, or he never would have found himself obliged, in the short space of twenty-five years, to undo that which he had countenanced as a great state measure; and while it confirms the former lesson to statesmen of watching the beginnings or principles of things in their political movements, it should teach them never to persist in the support of evils, through the false shame of being obliged to confess that they had once given them their sanction, nor to delay the cure of them because, politically speaking, neither this nor that is the proper season; but to do them away instantly, as there can only be one fit or proper time in the eye of religion, namely, on the conviction of their existence. From the opinions of Cardinal Ximenes and of the emperor Charles the Fifth, I hasten to that which was expressed much about the same time, in a public capacity, by Pope Leo the Tenth. The Dominicans in Spanish America, witnessing the cruel treatment which the slaves underwent there, considered slavery as utterly repugnant to the principles of the gospel, and recommended the abolition of it. The Franciscans did not favour the former in this their scheme of benevolence; and the consequence was, that a controversy on this subject sprung up between them, which was carried to this pope for his decision. Leo exerted himself, much to his honour, in behalf of the poor sufferers, and declared "That not only the Christian religion, but that Nature herself cried out against a state of slavery." This answer was certainly worthy of one who was deemed the head of the Christian Church. It must, however, be confessed that it would have been strange if Leo, in his situation as pontiff, had made a different reply. He could never have denied that God was no respecter of persons. He must have acknowledged that men were bound to love each other as brethren; and, if he admitted the doctrine that all men were accountable for their actions hereafter, he could never have prevented the deduction that it was necessary they should be free. Nor could he, as a man of high attainments, living early in the sixteenth century, have been ignorant of what had taken place in the twelfth; or that, by the latter end of this latter century, christianity had obtained the undisputed honour of having extirpated slavery from the western part of the European world. From Spain and Italy I come to England. The first importation of slaves from Africa, by our countrymen, was in the reign of Elizabeth, in the year 1562. This great princess seems on the very commencement of the trade to have questioned its lawfulness. She seems to have entertained a religious scruple concerning it; and, indeed, to have revolted at the very thought of it. She seems to have been aware of the evils to which its continuance might lead, or that, if it were sanctioned, the most unjustifiable means might be made use of to procure the persons of the natives of Africa. And in what light she would have viewed any acts of this kind, had they taken place, we may conjecture from this fact,--that when Captain (afterwards Sir John) Hawkins returned from his first voyage to Africa and Hispaniola, whither he had carried slaves, she sent for him, and, as we learn from Hill's _Naval History_ expressed her concern lest any of the Africans should be carried off without their free consent, declaring that "it would be detestable, and call down the vengeance of heaven upon the undertakers." Captain Hawkins promised to comply with the injunctions of Elizabeth in this respect, but he did not keep his word; for when he went to Africa again, he seized many of the inhabitants and carried them off as slaves, which occasioned Hill, in the account he gives of his second voyage, to use these remarkable words:--"Here began the horrid practice of forcing the Africans into slavery, an injustice and barbarity which, so sure as there is vengeance in heaven for the worst of crimes, will some time be the destruction of all who allow or encourage it." That the trade should have been suffered to continue under such a princess, and after such solemn expressions as those which she has been described to have uttered, can be only attributed to the pains taken by those concerned in it to keep her ignorant of the truth. From England I now pass over to France. Labat, a Roman missionary, in his account of the isles of America, mentions that Louis the Thirteenth was very uneasy when he was about to issue the edict by which all Africans coming into his colonies were to be made slaves, and that this uneasiness continued till he was assured that the introduction of them in this capacity into his foreign dominions was the readiest way of converting them to the principles of the Christian religion. These, then, were the first forerunners in the great cause of the abolition of the Slave Trade: nor have their services towards it been of small moment; for, in the first place, they have enabled those who came after them, and who took an active interest in the same cause, to state the great authority of their opinions and of their example. They have enabled them, again, to detail the history connected with these, in consequence of which circumstances have been laid open which it is of great importance to know; for have they not enabled them to state that the African Slave Trade never would have been permitted to exist but for the ignorance of those in authority concerning it--that at its commencement there was a revolting of nature against it--a suspicion, a caution, a fear, both as to its unlawfulness and its effects? Have they not enabled them to state that falsehoods were advanced, and these concealed under the mask of religion, to deceive those who had the power to suppress it? Have they not enabled them to state that this trade began in piracy, and that it was continued upon the principles of force? And, finally, have not they who have been enabled to make these statements, knowing all the circumstances connected with them, found their own zeal increased, and their own courage and perseverance strengthened; and have they not, by the communication of them to others, produced many friends and even labourers in the cause? CHAPTER III. Forerunners continued to 1787; divided from this time into four classes.--First class consists principally of persons in Great Britain of various descriptions: Godwyn; Baxter; Tryon; Southern; Primatt; Montesquieu; Hutcheson; Sharp; Ramsay; and a multitude of others, whose names and services follow. I have hitherto traced the history of the forerunners in this great cause only up to about the year 1640. If I am to pursue my plan, I am to trace it to the year 1787. But in order to show what I intend in a clearer point of view, I shall divide those who have lived within this period, and who will now consist of persons in a less elevated station, into four classes: and I shall give to each class a distinct consideration by itself. Several of our old English writers, though they have not mentioned the African Slave Trade, or the slavery consequent upon it, in their respective works, have yet given their testimony of condemnation against both. Thus our great Milton:-- O execrable son, so to aspire, Above his brethren, to himself assuming Authority usurpt, from God not given; He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, Dominion absolute; that right we hold By his donation; but man over men He made not lord, such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free. I might mention Bishop Saunderson and others, who bore a testimony equally strong against the lawfulness of trading in the persons of men, and of holding them in bondage; but as I mean to confine myself to those who have favoured the cause of the Africans specifically, I cannot admit their names into any of the classes which have been announced. Of those, who compose the first class, defined as it has now been, I cannot name any individual who took a part in this cause till between the years 1670 and 1680; for in the year 1640, and for a few years afterwards, the nature of the trade and of the slavery was but little known, except to a few individuals, who were concerned in them; and it is obvious that these would neither endanger their own interest nor proclaim their own guilt by exposing it. The first, whom I shall mention is Morgan Godwyn, a clergyman of the established church. This pious divine wrote a treatise upon the subject, which he dedicated to the then archbishop of Canterbury. He gave it to the world, at the time mentioned, under the title of "_The Negroes' and Indians' Advocate._" In this treatise he lays open the situation of these oppressed people, of whose sufferings he had been an eye-witness in the island of Barbados. He calls forth the pity of the reader in an affecting manner, and exposes with a nervous eloquence the brutal sentiments and conduct of their oppressors. This seems to have been the first work undertaken in England expressly in favour of the cause. The next person, whom I shall mention, is Richard Baxter, the celebrated divine among the nonconformists. In his _Christian Directory_, published about the same time as _The Negroes' and Indians' Advocate_, he gives advice to those masters in foreign plantations, who have negroes and other slaves. In this he protests loudly against this trade. He says expressly that they, who go out as pirates, and take away poor Africans, or people of another land, who never forfeited life or liberty, and make them slaves and sell them, are the worst of robbers, and ought to be considered as the common enemies of mankind; and that they who buy them, and use them as mere beasts for their own convenience, regardless of their spiritual welfare, are fitter to be called demons than christians. He then proposes several queries, which he answers in a clear and forcible manner, showing the great inconsistency of this traffic, and the necessity of treating those then in bondage with tenderness and a due regard to their spiritual concerns. The _Directory_ of Baxter was succeeded by a publication called _Friendly Advice to the Planters_ in three parts. The first of these was, _A brief Treatise of the principal Fruits and Herbs that grow in Barbados, Jamaica, and other Plantations in the West Indies_. The second was, _The Negroes' Complaint, or their hard Servitude, and the Cruelties practised upon them by divers of their Masters professing Christianity_. And the third was, _A Dialogue between an Ethiopian and a Christian, his Master, in America_. In the last of these, Thomas Tryon, who was the author, inveighs both against the commerce and the slavery of the Africans, and in a striking manner examines each by the touchstone of reason, humanity, justice, and religion. In the year 1696, Southern brought forward his celebrated tragedy of _Oronooko_, by means of which many became enlightened upon the subject, and interested in it. For this tragedy was not a representation of fictitious circumstances, but of such as had occurred in the colonies, and as had been communicated in a publication by Mrs. Behn. The person who seems to have noticed the subject next was Dr. Primatt. In his _Dissertation on the Duty of Mercy, and on the Sin of Cruelty to Brute Animals_, he takes occasion to advert to the subject of the African Slave Trade. "It has pleased God," says he, "to cover some men with white skins and others with black; but as there is neither merit nor demerit in complexion, the white man, notwithstanding the barbarity of custom and prejudice, can have no right by virtue of his colour to enslave and tyrannize over the black man. For whether a man be white or black, such he is by God's appointment, and, abstractly considered, is neither a subject for pride, nor an object of contempt." After Dr. Primatt, we come to Baron Montesquieu, "Slavery," says he, "is not good in itself. It is neither useful to the master nor to the slave; not to the slave, because he can do nothing from virtuous motives; not to the master, because he contracts among his slaves all sorts of bad habits, and accustoms himself to the neglect of all the moral virtues. He becomes haughty, passionate, obdurate, vindictive, voluptuous, and cruel." And with respect to this particular species of slavery, he proceeds to say, "It is impossible to allow the negroes are men, because, if we allow them to be men, it will begin to be believed that we ourselves are not Christians." Hutcheson, in his _System of Moral Philosophy_, endeavours to show, that he who detains another by force in slavery, can make no good title to him, and adds, "Strange that in any nation where a sense of liberty prevails, and where the Christian religion is professed, custom and high prospect of gain can so stupify the consciences of men, and all sense of natural justice, that they can hear such computations made about the value of their fellow-men and their liberty, without abhorrence and indignation!" Foster, in his _Discourses on Natural Religion and Social Virtue_, calls the slavery under our consideration "a criminal and outrageous violation of the natural rights of mankind." I am sorry that I have not room to say all that he says on this subject. Perhaps the following beautiful extracts may suffice:-- "But notwithstanding this, we ourselves, who profess to be Christians, and boast of the peculiar advantages we enjoy by means of an express revelation of our duty from heaven, are in effect these very untaught and rude heathen countries. With all our superior light, we instil into those whom we call savage and barbarous, the most despicable opinion of human nature. We, to the utmost of our power, weaken and dissolve the universal tie that binds and unites mankind. We practise what we should exclaim against as the utmost excess of cruelty and tyranny, if nations of the world, differing in colour and form of government from ourselves, were so possessed of empire as to be able to reduce us to a state of unmerited and brutish servitude. Of consequence, we sacrifice our reason, our humanity, our Christianity, to an unnatural sordid gain. We teach other nations to despise and trample under foot all the obligations of social virtue. We take the most effectual method to prevent the propagation of the Gospel, by representing it as a scheme of power and barbarous oppression, and an enemy to the natural privileges and rights of man." "Perhaps all that I have now offered may be of very little weight to restrain this enormity, this aggravated iniquity. However, I shall still have the satisfaction of having entered my private protest against a practice which, in my opinion, bids that God, who is the God and Father of the Gentiles unconverted to Christianity, most daring and bold defiance, and spurns at all the principles both of natural and revealed religion." The next author is Sir Richard Steele, who, by means of the affecting story of Inkle and Yarico, holds up this trade again to our abhorrence. In the year 1735, Atkins, who was a surgeon in the navy, published his _Voyage to Guinea, Brazil, and the West Indies, in his Majesty's ships Swallow and Weymouth_. In this work he describes openly the manner of making the natives slaves, such as by kidnapping, by unjust accusations and trials, and by other nefarious means. He states also the cruelties practised upon them by the white people, and the iniquitous ways and dealings of the latter, and answers their argument, by which they insinuated that the condition of the Africans was improved by their transportation to other countries. From this time, the trade beginning to be better known, a multitude of persons of various stations and characters sprung up, who by exposing it, are to be mentioned among the forerunners and coadjutors in the cause. Pope, in his _Essay on Man_, where he endeavours to show that happiness in the present depends, among other things, upon the hope of a future state, takes an opportunity of exciting compassion in behalf of the poor African, while he censures the avarice and cruelty of his master:-- Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutored mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind; His soul proud Science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk, or milky-way; Yet simple Nature to his hope was given Behind the cloud-topt hill an humbler heaven; Some safer world in depth of woods embraced, Some happier island in the watery waste, Where slaves once more their native land behold, No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold. Thomson also, in his _Seasons_, marks this traffic as destructive and cruel, introducing the well-known fact of sharks following the vessels employed in it:-- Increasing still the sorrows of those storms, His jaws horrific arm'd with three-fold fate, Here dwells the direful shark. Lured by the scent Of steaming crowds, of rank disease, and death; Behold! he rushing cuts the briny flood, Swift as the gale can bear the ship along, And from the partners of that cruel trade; Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons, Demands his share of prey, demands themselves. The stormy fates descend: one death involves Tyrants and slaves; when straight their mangled limbs Crashing at once, he dyes the purple seas With gore, and riots in the vengeful meal. Neither was Richard Savage forgetful in his poems of the _Injured Africans_: he warns their oppressors of a day of retribution for their barbarous conduct. Having personified Public Spirit, he makes her speak on the subject in the following manner:-- Let by my specious name no tyrants rise, And cry, while they enslave, they civilize! Know, Liberty and I are still the same Congenial--ever mingling flame with flame! Why must I Afric's sable children see Vended for slaves, though born by nature free, The nameless tortures cruel minds invent Those to subject whom Nature equal meant? If these you dare (although unjust success Empowers you now unpunished, to oppress), Revolving empire you and yours may doom-- (Rome all subdu'd--yet Vandals vanquish'd Rome) Yes--Empire may revolt--give them the day, And yoke may yoke, and blood may blood repay. Wallis, in his _System of the Laws of Scotland_, maintains, that "neither men nor governments have a right to sell those of their own species. Men and their liberty are neither purchaseable nor saleable." And, after arguing the case, he says, "This is the law of nature, which is obligatory on all men, at all times, and in all places.--Would not any of us, who should be snatched by pirates from his native land, think himself cruelly abused, and at all times entitled to be free? Have not these unfortunate Africans, who meet with the same cruel fate, the same right? Are they not men as well as we? And have they not the same sensibility? Let us not, therefore, defend or support an usage, which is contrary to all the laws of humanity." In the year 1750, the reverend Griffith Hughes, rector of St. Lucy, in Barbados, published his Natural History of that island. He took an opportunity, in the course of it, of laying open to the world the miserable situation of the poor Africans, and the waste of them by hard labour and other cruel means, and he had the generosity to vindicate their capacities from the charge, which they who held them in bondage brought against them, as a justification of their own wickedness in continuing to deprive them of the rights of men. Edmund Burke, in his account of the European settlements, (for this work is usually attributed to him,) complains "that the Negroes in our colonies endure a slavery more complete, and attended with far worse circumstances, than what any people in their condition suffer, in any other part of the world, or have suffered in any other period of time. Proofs of this are not wanting. The prodigious waste, which we experience in this unhappy part of our species, is a full and melancholy evidence of this truth." And he goes on to advise the planters, for the sake of their own interest, to behave like good men, good masters, and good Christians, and to impose less labour upon their slaves, and to give them recreation on some of the grand festivals, and to instruct them in religion, as certain preventives of their decrease. An anonymous author of a pamphlet, entitled, _An Essay in Vindication of the Continental Colonies of America_, seems to have come forward next. Speaking of slavery there, he says, "It is shocking to humanity, violative of every generous sentiment, abhorrent utterly from the Christian religion.--There cannot be a more dangerous maxim than that necessity is a plea for injustice, for who shall fix the degree of this necessity? What villain so atrocious, who may not urge this excuse, or, as Milton has happily expressed it, And with necessity, The tyrant's plea, excuse his devilish deed? "That our colonies," he continues, "want people, is a very weak argument for so inhuman a violation of justice.--Shall a civilized, a Christian nation encourage slavery, because the barbarous, savage, lawless African hath done it? To what end do we profess a religion whose dictates we so flagrantly violate? Wherefore have we that pattern of goodness and humanity, if we refuse to follow it? How long shall we continue a practice which policy rejects, justice condemns, and piety revolts at?" The poet Shenstone, who comes next in order, seems to have written an elegy on purpose to stigmatize this trade. Of this elegy I shall copy only the following parts:-- See the poor native quit the Libyan shores, Ah! not in love's delightful fetters bound! No radiant smile his dying peace restores, No love, nor fame, nor friendship, heals his wound. Let vacant bards display their boasted woes; Shall I the mockery of grief display? No; let the muse his piercing pangs disclose, Who bleeds and weeps his sum of life away! On the wild heath in mournful guise he stood, Ere the shrill boatswain gave the hated sign; He dropt a tear unseen into the flood, He stole one secret moment to repine-- "Why am I ravish'd from my native strand? What savage race protects this impious gain? Shall foreign plagues infest this teeming land, And more than sea-born monsters plough the main? Here the dire locusts' horrid swarms prevail; Here the blue asps with livid poison swell; Here the dry dipsa writhes his sinuous mail; Can we not here secure from envy dwell? When the grim lion urged his cruel chase, When the stern panther sought his midnight prey; What fate reserved me for this Christian race? O race more polished, more severe than they! Yet shores there are, bless'd shores for us remain, And favour'd isles, with golden fruitage crown'd, Where tufted flow'rets paint the verdant plain, And every breeze shall medicine every wound." In the year 1755, Dr. Hayter, bishop of Norwich, preached a sermon before the _Society for the Propagation of the Gospel_, in which he bore his testimony against the continuance of this trade. Dyer, in his poem called _The Fleece_, expresses his sorrow on account of this barbarous trade, and looks forward to a day of retributive justice on account of the introduction of such an evil. In the year 1760, a pamphlet appeared, entitled, _Two Dialogues on the Man-trade_, by John Philmore. This name is supposed to be an assumed one. The author, however, discovers himself to have been both an able and a zealous advocate in favour of the African race. Malachi Postlethwaite, in his _Universal Dictionary of Trade and Commerce_, proposes a number of queries on the subject of the Slave Trade. I have not room to insert them at full length, but I shall give the following as the substance of some of them to the reader: "Whether this commerce be not the cause of incessant wars among the Africans--Whether the Africans, if it were abolished, might not become as ingenious, as humane, as industrious, and as capable of arts, manufactures, and trades, as even the bulk of Europeans--Whether, if it were abolished, a much more profitable trade might not be substituted, and this to the very centre of their extended country, instead of the trifling portion which now subsists upon their coasts--And whether the great hindrance to such a new and advantageous commerce has not wholly proceeded from that unjust, inhuman, unchristianlike traffic, called the Slave Trade, which is carried on by the Europeans." The public proposal of these and other queries by a man of so great commercial knowledge as Postlethwaite, and by one who was himself a member of the African Committee, was of great service in exposing the impolicy as well as immorality of the Slave Trade. In the year 1761, Thomas Jeffery published an account of a part of North America, in which he lays open the miserable state of the slaves in the West Indies, both as to their clothing, their food, their labour, and their punishments. But, without going into particulars, the general account be gives of them is affecting: "It is impossible," he says, "for a human heart to reflect upon the slavery of these dregs of mankind, without in some measure feeling for their misery, which ends but with their lives--nothing can be more wretched than the condition of this people." Sterne, in his account of the Negro girl in his _Life of Tristram Shandy_, took decidedly the part of the oppressed Africans. The pathetic, witty, and sentimental manner, in which he handled this subject, occasioned many to remember it, and procured a certain portion of feeling in their favour. Rousseau contributed not a little in his day to the same end. Bishop Warburton, preached a sermon in the year 1766, before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in which he took up the cause of the miserable Africans, and in which he severely reprobated their oppressors. The language in this sermon is so striking, that I shall make an extract from it. "From the free savages," says he, "I now come to the savages in bonds. By these I mean the vast multitudes yearly stolen from the opposite continent, and sacrificed by the colonists to their great idol, the god of gain. But what then say these sincere worshippers of Mammon? They are our own property which we offer up,--Gracious God! to talk, as of herds of cattle, of property in rational creatures, creatures endued with all our faculties, possessing all our qualities but that of colour, our brethren both by nature and grace, shocks all the feelings of humanity, and the dictates of common sense? But, alas! what is there, in the infinite abuses of society, which does not shock them! Yet nothing is more certain in itself and apparent to all, than that the infamous traffic for slaves directly infringes both divine and human law. Nature created man free, and grace invites him to assert his freedom. "In excuse of this violation it hath been pretended, that though, indeed, these miserable outcasts of humanity be torn from their homes and native country by fraud and violence, yet they thereby become the happier, and their condition the more eligible. But who are you, who pretend to judge of another man's happiness; that state which each man under the guidance of his Maker forms for himself, and not one man for another? To know what constitutes mine or your happiness is the sole prerogative of him who created us, and cast us in so various and different moulds. Did your slaves ever complain to you of their unhappiness amidst their native woods and deserts? or rather let me ask, did they ever cease complaining of their condition under you their lordly masters, where they see, indeed, the accommodations of civil life, but see them all pass to others, themselves unbenefited by them? Be so gracious then, ye petty tyrants over human freedom, to let your slaves judge for themselves, what it is which makes their own happiness, and then see whether they do not place it in the return to their own country, rather than in the contemplation of your grandeur, of which their misery makes so large a part; a return so passionately longed for, that, despairing of happiness here, that is, of escaping the chains of their cruel task-masters, they console themselves with feigning it to be the gracious reward of heaven in their future state." About this time certain cruel and wicked practices, which must now be mentioned, had arrived at such a height, and had become so frequent in the metropolis, as to produce of themselves other coadjutors to the cause. Before the year 1700, planters, merchants, and others, resident in the West Indies, but coming to England, were accustomed to bring with them certain slaves to act as servants with them during their stay. The latter, seeing the freedom and the happiness of servants in this country, and considering what would be their own hard fate on their return to the islands, frequently absconded. Their masters of course made search after them, and often had them seized and carried away by force. It was, however, thrown out by many on these occasions, that the English laws did not sanction such proceedings, for that all persons who were baptized became free. The consequence of this was, that most of the slaves, who came over with their masters, prevailed upon some pious clergyman to baptize them. They took of course godfathers of such citizens as had the generosity to espouse their cause. When they were seized they usually sent to these, if they had an opportunity, for their protection. And in the result, their godfathers, maintaining that they had been baptized, and that they were free on this account as well as by the general tenour of the law of England, dared those who had taken possession of them to send them out of the kingdom. The planters, merchants, and others, being thus circumstanced, knew not what to do. They were afraid of taking their slaves away by force, and they were equally afraid of bringing any of the cases before a public court. In this dilemma, in 1729, they applied to York and Talbot, the attorney and solicitor-general for the time being, and obtained the following strange opinion from them:--"We are of opinion, that a slave by coming from the West Indies into Great Britain or Ireland, either with or without his master, does not become free, and that his master's right and property in him is not thereby determined or varied, and that baptism doth not bestow freedom on him, nor make any alteration in his temporal condition in these kingdoms. We are also of opinion, that the master may legally compel him to return again to the plantations." This cruel and illegal opinion was delivered in the year 1729. The planters, merchants, and others, gave it of course all the publicity in their power. And the consequences were as might easily have been apprehended. In a little time slaves absconding were advertised in the London papers as runaways, and rewards offered for the apprehension of them, in the same brutal manner as we find them advertised in the land of slavery. They were advertised also, in the same papers, to be sold by auction, sometimes by themselves, and at others with horses, chaises, and harness? They were seized also by their masters, or by persons employed by them, in the very streets, and dragged from thence to the ships; and so unprotected now were these poor slaves, that persons in nowise concerned with them began to institute a trade in their persons, making agreements with captains of ships going to the West Indies to put them on board at a certain price. This last instance shows how far human nature is capable of going, and is an answer to those persons who have denied that kidnapping in Africa was a source of supplying the Slave Trade. It shows, as all history does from the time of Joseph, that where there is a market for the persons of human beings, all kinds of enormities will be practised to obtain them. These circumstances then, as I observed before, did not fail of producing new coadjutors in the cause. And first they produced that able and indefatigable advocate, Mr. Granville Sharp. This gentleman is to be distinguished from those who preceded him by this particular, that, whereas these were only writers, he was both a writer and an actor in the cause. In fact, he was the first labourer in it in England. By the words "actor" and "labourer," I mean that he determined upon a plan of action in behalf of the oppressed Africans, to the accomplishment of which he devoted a considerable portion of his time, talents, and substance. What Mr. Sharp has done to merit the title of coadjutor in this high sense, I shall now explain. The following is a short history of the beginning and of the course of his labours:-- In the year 1765, Mr. David Lisle had brought over from Barbados Jonathan Strong, an African slave, as his servant. He used the latter in a barbarous manner at his lodgings in Wapping, but particularly by beating him over the head with a pistol, which occasioned his head to swell. When the swelling went down, a disorder fell into his eyes, which threatened the loss of them. To this an ague and fever succeeded, and a lameness in both his legs. Jonathan Strong, having been brought into this deplorable situation, and being therefore wholly useless, was left by his master to go whither he pleased. He applied accordingly to Mr. William Sharp, the surgeon, for his advice, as to one who gave up a portion of his time to the healing of the diseases of the poor. It was here that Mr. Granville Sharp, the brother of the former, saw him. Suffice it to say, that in process of time he was cured. During this time Mr. Granville Sharp, pitying his hard case, supplied him with money, and he afterwards got him a situation in the family of Mr. Brown, an apothecary, to carry out medicines. In this new situation, when Strong had become healthy and robust in his appearance, his master happened to see him. The latter immediately formed the design of possessing him again. According, when he had found out his residence, he procured John Ross, keeper of the Poultry-counter, and William Miller, an officer under the Lord Mayor, to kidnap him. This was done by sending for him to a public-house in Fenchurch-street, and then seizing him. By these he was conveyed, without any warrant, to the Poultry-counter, where he was sold by his master, to John Kerr, for thirty pounds. Strong, in this situation, sent, as was usual, to his godfathers, John London and Stephen Nail, for their protections. They went, but were refused admittance to him. At length he sent for Mr. Granville Sharp: the latter went, but they still refused access to the prisoner. He insisted, however, upon seeing him, and charged the keeper of the prison at his peril to deliver him up, till he had been carried before a magistrate. Mr. Sharp, immediately upon this, waited upon Sir Robert Kite, the then lord mayor, and entreated him to send for Strong and to hear his case. A day was accordingly appointed. Mr. Sharp attended, and also William McBean, a notary public, and David Laird, captain of the ship Thames, which was to have conveyed Strong to Jamaica, in behalf of the purchaser, John Kerr. A long conversation ensued, in which the opinion of York and Talbot was quoted. Mr. Sharp made his observations. Certain lawyers who were present seemed to be staggered at the case, but inclined rather to recommit the prisoner: the lord mayor, however, discharged Strong, as he had been taken up without a warrant. As soon as this determination was made known, the parties began to move off. Captain Laird, however, who kept close to Strong, laid hold of him before he had quitted the room, and said aloud, "Then I now seize him as my slave." Upon this Mr. Sharp put his hand upon Laird's shoulder, and pronounced these words: "I charge you, in the name of the king, with an assault upon the person of Jonathan Strong, and all these are my witnesses." Laird was greatly intimidated by this charge, made in the presence of the lord mayor and others, and, fearing a prosecution, let his prisoner go, leaving him to be conveyed away by Mr. Sharp. Mr. Sharp having been greatly affected by this case, and foreseeing how much he might be engaged in others of a similar nature, thought it time that the law of the land should be known upon this subject: he applied, therefore, to Dr. Blackstone, afterwards Judge Blackstone, for his opinion upon it. He was, however, not satisfied with it when he received it; nor could he obtain any satisfactory answer from several other lawyers, to whom he afterwards applied. The truth is that the opinion of York and Talbot, which had been made public and acted upon by the planters, merchants, and others, was considered of high authority, and scarcely any one dared to question the legality of it. In this situation Mr. Sharp saw no means of help but in his own industry, and he determined immediately to give up two or three years to the study of the English law, that he might the better advocate the cause of these miserable people. The result of these studies was the publication of a book in the year 1769, which he called, _A Representation of the Injustice and Dangerous Tendency of Tolerating Slavery in England_. In this work he refuted, in the clearest manner, the opinion of York and Talbot: he produced against it the opinion of the Lord Chief Justice Holt, who, many years before, had determined that every slave coming into England became free: he attacked and refuted it again by a learned and laborious inquiry into all the principles of Villenage. He refuted it again by showing it to be an axiom in the British constitution, "That every man in England was free to sue for and defend his rights, and that force could not be used without a legal process," leaving it to the judges to determine whether an African was a man. He attacked also the opinion of Judge Blackstone, and showed where his error lay. This valuable book, containing these and other kinds of arguments on the subject, he distributed, but particularly among the lawyers, giving them an opportunity of refuting or acknowledging the doctrines it contained. While Mr. Sharp was engaged in this work, another case offered, in which he took a part: this was in the year 1768. Hylas, an African slave, prosecuted a person of the name of Newton for having kidnapped his wife, and sent her to the West Indies. The result of the trial was, that damages to the amount of a shilling were given, and the defendant was bound to bring back the woman, either by the first ship, or in six months from this decision of the court. But soon after the work just mentioned was out, and when Mr. Sharp was better prepared, a third case occurred: this happened in the year 1770. Robert Stapylton, who lived at Chelsea, in conjunction with John Malony and Edward Armstrong, two watermen, seized the person of Thomas Lewis, an African slave, in a dark night, and dragged him to a boat lying in the Thames; they then gagged him and tied him with a cord, and rowed him down to a ship, and put him on board to be sold as a slave in Jamaica. This base action took place near the garden of Mrs. Banks, the mother of the late Sir Joseph Banks. Lewis, it appears, on being seized, screamed violently. The servants of Mrs. Banks, who heard his cries, ran to his assistance, but the boat was gone. On informing their mistress of what had happened, she sent for Mr. Sharp, who began now to be known as the friend of the helpless Africans, and professed her willingness to incur the expense of bringing the delinquents to justice. Mr. Sharp, with some difficulty, procured a _habeas corpus_, in consequence of which Lewis was brought from Gravesend just as the vessel was on the point of sailing. An action was then commenced against Stapylton, who defended himself on the plea, "That Lewis belonged to him as his slave." In the course of the trial, Mr. Dunning, who was counsel for Lewis, paid Mr. Sharp a handsome compliment; for he held in his hand Mr. Sharp's book, on the _Injustice and Dangerous Tendency of Tolerating Slavery in England_, while he was pleading; and in his address to the jury he spoke and acted thus:--"I shall submit to you," says Mr. Dunning, "what my ideas are upon such evidence, reserving to myself an opportunity of discussing it more particularly, and reserving to myself a right to insist upon a position, which I will maintain (and here he held up the book to the notice of those present,) in any place and in any court of the kingdom, that our laws admit of no such property[A]." The result of the trial was, that the jury pronounced the plaintiff not to have been the property of the defendant, several of them crying out, "No property, no property." [Footnote A: It is lamentable to think that the same Mr. Dunning, in a cause of this kind, which came on afterwards, took the opposite side of the question.] After this one or two other trials came on, in which the oppressor was defeated, and several cases occurred in which poor slaves were liberated from the holds of vessels and other places of confinement, by the exertions of Mr. Sharp. One of these cases was singular. The vessels on board which a poor African had been dragged and confined, had reached the Downs, and had actually got under weigh for the West Indies: in two or three hours she would have been out of sight; but just at this critical moment the writ of _habeas corpus_ was carried on board. The officer who served it on the captain saw the miserable African chained to the mainmast, bathed in tears, and casting a last mournful look on the land of freedom, which was fast receding from his sight. The captain, on receiving the writ, became outrageous; but knowing the serious consequences of resisting the law of the land, he gave up his prisoner, whom the officer carried safe, but now crying for joy, to the shore. But though the injured Africans, whose causes had been tried, escaped slavery, and though many who had been forcibly carried into dungeons, ready to be transported into the Colonies, had been delivered out of them, Mr. Sharp was not easy in his mind: not one of the cases had yet been pleaded on the broad ground, "Whether an African slave, coming into England, became free?" This great question had been hitherto studiously avoided; it was still, therefore, left in doubt. Mr. Sharp was almost daily acting as if it had been determined, and as if he had been following the known law of the land: he wished, therefore, that the next cause might be argued upon this principle. Lord Mansfield too, who had been biassed by the opinion of York and Talbot, began to waver in consequence of the different pleadings he had heard on this subject: he saw also no end of trials like these, till the law should be ascertained, and he was anxious for a decision on the same basis as Mr. Sharp. In this situation the following case offered, which was agreed upon for the determination of this important question. James Somerset, an African slave, had been brought to England by his master, Charles Stewart, in November 1769. Somerset in process of time left him. Stewart took an opportunity of seizing him, and had him conveyed on board the Ann and Mary, Captain Knowles, to be carried out of the kingdom and sold as a slave in Jamaica: the question was, "Whether a slave, by coming into England, became free?" In order that time might be given for ascertaining the law fully on this head, the case was argued at three different sittings. First, in January, 1772; secondly, in February, 1772; and thirdly, in May, 1772. And that no decision otherwise than what the law warranted might be given, the opinion of the judges was taken upon the pleadings. The great and glorious result of the trial was, "That as soon as ever any slave set his foot upon English territory, he became free." Thus ended the great case of Somerset, which, having, been determined after so deliberate an investigation of the law, can never be reversed while the British Constitution remains. The eloquence displayed in it by those who were engaged on the side of liberty, was perhaps never exceeded on any occasion; and the names of the counsellors Davy, Glynn, Hargrave, Mansfield, and Alleyne, ought always to be remembered with gratitude by the friends of this great cause. For when we consider in how many crowded courts they pleaded, and the number of individuals in these, whose minds they enlightened, and whose hearts they interested in the subject, they are certainly to be put down as no small instruments in the promotion of it; but chiefly to him, under Divine Providence, are we to give the praise, who became the first great actor in it, who devoted his time, his talents, and his substance to this Christian undertaking, and by whose laborious researches the very pleaders themselves were instructed and benefited. By means of his almost incessant vigilance and attention, and unwearied efforts, the poor African ceased to be hunted in our streets as a beast of prey. Miserable as the roof might be, under which he slept, he slept in security. He walked by the side of the stately ship, and he feared no dungeon in her hold. Nor ought we, as Englishmen, to be less grateful to this distinguished individual than the African ought to be upon this occasion. To him we owe it, that we no longer see our public papers polluted by hateful advertisements of the sale of the human species, or that we are no longer distressed by the perusal of impious rewards for bringing back the poor and the helpless into slavery, or that we are prohibited the disgusting spectacle of seeing man bought by his fellow-man. To him, in short, we owe this restoration of the beauty of our constitution--this prevention of the continuance of our national disgrace. I shall say but little more of Mr. Sharp at present, than that he felt it his duty, immediately after the trial, to write to Lord North, then principal minister of state, warning him in the most earnest manner, to abolish immediately both the trade and the slavery of the human species in all the British dominions, as utterly irreconcileable with the principles of the British constitution, and the established religion of the land. Among other coadjutors, whom the cruel and wicked practices which have now been so amply detailed brought forward, was a worthy clergyman, whose name I have not yet been able to learn. He endeavoured to interest the public feeling in behalf of the injured Africans, by writing an epilogue to the _Padlock_, in which Mungo appeared as a black servant. This epilogue is so appropriate to the case, that I cannot but give it to the reader. Mungo enters, and thus addresses the audience:-- Thank you, my massas! have you laugh your fill? Then let me speak, nor take that freedom ill. E'en from _my_ tongue some heart-felt truths may fall, And outraged Nature claims the care of all. My tale in _any_ place would force a tear, But calls for stronger, deeper feelings here; For whilst I tread the free-born British land, Whilst now before me crowded Britons stand,-- Vain, vain that glorious privilege to me, I am a slave, where all things else are free. Yet was I born, as you are, no man's slave, An heir to all that liberal Nature gave; My mind can reason, and my limbs can move The same as yours; like yours my heart can love; Alike my body food and sleep sustain; And e'en like yours--feels pleasure, want, and pain. One sun rolls o'er us, common skies surround; One globe supports us, and one grave must bound. Why then am I devoid of all to live That manly comforts to a man can give? To live--untaught religion's soothing balm, Or life's choice arts; to live--unknown the calm, Of soft domestic ease; those sweets of life, The duteous offspring, and th' endearing wife? To live--to property and rights unknown, Not e'en the common benefits my own! No arm to guard me from Oppression's rod, My will subservient to a tyrant's nod! No gentle hand, when life is in decay, To soothe my pains, and charm my cares away; But helpless left to quit the horrid stage, Harassed in youth, and desolate in age! But I was born in Afric's tawny strand, And you in fair Britannia's fairer land; Comes freedom, then, from colour?--Blush with shame! And let strong Nature's crimson mark your blame. I speak to Britons.--Britons--then behold A man by, Britons _snared_, and _seized_, and _sold!_ And yet no British statute damns the deed, Nor do the more than murderous villains bleed. O sons of Freedom! equalize your laws, Be all consistent, plead the negro's cause; That all the nations in your code may see The British negro, like the Briton, free. But, should he supplicate your laws in vain, To break, for ever, this disgraceful chain, At least, let gentle usage so abate The galling terrors of its passing state, That he may share kind Heaven's all social plan; For, though no Briton, Mungo is--a man. I may now add, that few theatrical pieces had a greater run than the _Padlock_; and that this epilogue, which was attached to it soon after it came out, procured a good deal of feeling for the unfortunate sufferers, whose cause it was intended to serve. Another coadjutor, to whom these cruel and wicked practices gave birth, was Thomas Day, the celebrated author of _Sandford and Merton_, and whose virtues were well known among those who had the happiness of his friendship. In the year 1773 he published a poem, which he wrote expressly in behalf of the oppressed Africans. He gave it the name of _The Dying Negro._ The preface to it was written in an able manner by his friend Counsellor Bicknell, who is therefore to be ranked among the coadjutors in this great cause. The poem was founded on a simple fact, which had taken place a year or two before. A poor negro had been seized in London, and forcibly put on board a ship, where he destroyed himself, rather than return to the land of slavery. To the poem is affixed a frontispiece, in which the negro is represented. He is made to stand in an attitude of the most earnest address to heaven, in the course of which, with the fatal dagger in his hand, he breaks forth in the following words: To you this unpolluted blood I pour, To you that spirit, which ye gave, restore. This poem, which was the first ever written expressly on the subject, was read extensively; and it added to the sympathy in favour of suffering humanity, which was now beginning to show itself in the kingdom. About this time the first edition of the _Essay an Truth_ made its appearance in the world. Dr. Beattie took an opportunity, in this work, of vindicating the intellectual powers of the Africans from the aspersions of Hume, and of condemning their slavery as a barbarous piece of policy, and as inconsistent with the free and generous spirit of the British nation. In the year 1774, John Wesley, the celebrated divine, to whose pious labours the religious world will long be indebted, undertook the cause of the poor Africans. He had been in America, and had seen and pitied their hard condition. The work which he gave to the world in consequence, was entitled _Thoughts on Slavery_. Mr. Wesley had this great cause much at heart, and frequently recommended it to the support of those who attended his useful ministry. In the year 1776, the Abbé Proyart brought out, at Paris, his _History of Loango_, and other kingdoms in Africa, in which he did ample justice to the moral and intellectual character of the natives there. The same year produced two new friends in England, in the same cause, but in a line in which no one had yet moved. David Hartley, then a member of parliament for Hull, and the son of Dr. Hartley who wrote the _Essay on Man_, found it impossible any longer to pass over without notice the case of the oppressed Africans. He had long felt for their wretched condition, and, availing himself of his legislative situation, he made a motion in the House of Commons, "That the Slave Trade was contrary to the laws of God, and the rights of men." In order that he might interest the members as much as possible in his motion, he had previously obtained some of the chains in use in this cruel traffic, and had laid them upon the table of the House of Commons. His motion was seconded by that great patriot and philanthropist, Sir George Saville. But though I am now to state that it failed, I cannot but consider it as a matter of pleasing reflection, that this great subject was first introduced into parliament by those who were worthy of it; by those who had clean hands and an irreproachable character, and to whom no motive of party or faction could be imputed, but only such as must have arisen from a love of justice, a true feeling of humanity, and a proper sense of religion. About this time two others, men of great talents and learning, promoted the cause of the injured Africans, by the manner in which they introduced them to notice in their respective works. Dr. Adam Smith, in his _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, had, so early as the year 1759, held them up in an honourable, and their tyrants in a degrading light. "There is not a Negro from the coast of Africa, who does not, in this respect, possess a degree of magnanimity which the soul of his sordid master is too often scarce capable of conceiving. Fortune never exerted more cruelly her empire over mankind, than when she subjected those nations of heroes to the refuse of the gaols of Europe, to wretches who possess the virtue neither of the countries they came from, nor of those they go to, and whose levity, brutality, and baseness so justly expose them to the contempt of the vanquished." And now, in 1776, in his _Wealth of Nations_ he showed in a forcible manner (for he appealed to the interest of those concerned,) the dearness of African labour; or the impolicy of employing slaves. Professor Millar, in his _Origin of Ranks_, followed Dr. Smith on the same ground. He explained the impolicy of slavery in general, by its bad effects upon industry, population, and morals. These effects he attached to the system of agriculture as followed in our islands. He showed, besides, how little pains were taken, or how few contrivances were thought of, to ease the labourers there. He contended that the Africans ought to be better treated, and to be raised to a better condition; and he ridiculed the inconsistency of those who held them in bondage. "It affords," says he, "a curious spectacle to observe that the same people, who talk in a high strain of political liberty, and who consider the privilege of imposing their own taxes as one of the unalienable rights of mankind, should make no scruple of reducing a great proportion of their fellow-creatures into circumstances by which they are not only deprived of property, but almost of every species of right. Fortune, perhaps, never produced a situation more calculated to ridicule a liberal hypothesis, or to show how little the conduct of men is at the bottom directed by any philosophical principles." It is a great honour to the University of Glasgow, that it should have produced, before any public agitation of this question, three professors[A], all of whom bore their public testimony against the continuance of the cruel trade. [Footnote A: The other was Professor Hutcheson, before mentioned in p. 56.] From this time, or from about the year 1776, to about the year 1782, I am to put down three other coadjutors, whose labours seem to have come in a right season for the promotion of the cause. The first of these was Dr. ROBERTSON. In his _History of America_ he laid open many facts relative to this subject. He showed himself a warm friend both of the Indians and Africans. He lost no opportunity of condemning that trade, which brought the latter into bondage: "a trade," says he, "which is no less repugnant to the feelings of humanity than to the principles of religion." And in his _Charles the Fifth_, he showed in a manner that was clear, and never to be controverted, that Christianity was the great cause in the twelfth century of extirpating slavery from the west of Europe. By the establishment of this fact, he rendered important services to the oppressed Africans. For if Christianity, when it began to be felt in the heart, dictated the abolition of slavery, it certainly became those who lived in a Christian country, and who professed the Christian religion, to put an end to this cruel trade. The second was the Abbé Raynal. This author gave an account of the laws, government, and religion of Africa, of the produce of it, of the manners of its inhabitants, of the trade in slaves, of the manner of procuring these, with several other particulars relating to the subject. And at the end of his account, fearing lest the good advice he had given for making the condition of the slaves more comfortable should be construed into an approbation of such a traffic, he employed several pages in showing its utter inconsistency with sound policy, justice, reason, humanity, and religion. "I will not here," says he, "so far debase myself as to enlarge the ignominious list of those writers who devote their abilities to justify by policy what morality condemns. In an age where so many errors are boldly laid open, it would be unpardonable to conceal any truth that is interesting to humanity. If whatever I have hitherto advanced hath seemingly tended only to alleviate the burden of slavery, the reason is, that it was first necessary to give some comfort to those unhappy beings whom we cannot set free, and convince their oppressors that they were cruel, to the prejudice of their real interests. But, in the mean time, till some considerable revolution shall make the evidence of this great truth felt, it may not be improper to pursue this subject further. I shall then first prove that there is no reason of state which can authorize slavery. I shall not be afraid to cite to the tribunal of reason and justice those governments which tolerate this cruelty, or which even are not ashamed to make it the basis of their power." And a little further on he observes--"Will it be said that he, who wants to make me a slave, does me no injury; but that he only makes use of his rights? Where are those rights? Who hath stamped upon them so sacred a character as to silence mine?" In the beginning of the next paragraph he speaks thus:--"He who supports the system of slavery is the enemy of the whole human race. He divides it into two societies of legal assassins; the oppressors, and the oppressed. It is the same thing as proclaiming to the world, if you would preserve your life, instantly take away mine, for I want to have yours." Going on two pages further, we find these words:--"But the Negroes, they say, are a race born for slavery; their dispositions are narrow, treacherous, and wicked; they themselves allow the superiority of our understandings, and almost acknowledge the justice of our authority. Yes; the minds of the Negroes are contracted, because slavery destroys all the springs of the soul. They are wicked, but not equally so with you. They are treacherous, because they are under no obligation to speak truth to their tyrants. They acknowledge the superiority of our understanding, because we have abused their ignorance. They allow the justice of our authority, because we have abused their weakness." "But these Negroes, it is further urged, were born slaves. Barbarians! will you persuade me that a man can be the property of a sovereign, a son the property of a father, a wife the property of a husband, a domestic the property of a master, a Negro the property of a planter?" But I have no time to follow this animated author, even by short extracts, through the varied strains of eloquence which he displays upon this occasion. I can only say that his labours entitle him to a high station among the benefactors to the African race. The third was Dr. PALEY, whose genius, talents, and learning have been so eminently displayed in his writings in the cause of natural and revealed religion. Dr. Paley did not write any essay expressly in favour of the Africans. But in his _Moral Philosophy_, where he treated on slavery, he took an opportunity of condemning, in very severe terms, the continuance of it. In this work he defined what slavery was, and how it might arise consistently with the law of nature; but he made an exception against that which arose from the African trade. "The Slave Trade," says he, "upon the coast of Africa, is not excused by these principles. When slaves in that country are brought to market, no questions, I believe, are asked about the origin or justice of the vendor's title. It may be presumed, therefore, that this title is not always, if it be ever, founded in any of the causes above assigned. "But defect of right in the first purchase is the least crime with which this traffic is chargeable. The natives are excited to war and mutual depredation, for the sake of supplying their contracts, or furnishing the markets with slaves. With this the wickedness begins. The slaves, torn away from their parents, wives, and children, from their friends and companions, from their fields and flocks, from their home and country, are transported to the European settlements in America, with no other accommodation on ship-board than what is provided for brutes. This is the second stage of the cruelty, from which the miserable exiles are delivered, only to be placed, and that for life, in subjection to a dominion add system of laws, the most merciless and tyrannical that ever were tolerated upon the face of the earth: and from all that can be learned by the accounts of people upon the spot, the inordinate authority which the plantation-laws confer upon the slaveholder is exercised, by the English slaveholder especially, with rigour and brutality. "But necessity is pretended, the name under which every enormity is attempted to be justified; and after all, what is the necessity? It has never been proved that the land could not be cultivated there, as it is here, by hired servants. It is said, that it could not be cultivated with quite the same conveniency and cheapness, as by the labour of slaves; by which means, a pound of sugar, which the planter now sells for sixpence, could not be afforded under sixpence-halfpenny--and this is the necessity! "The great revolution which has taken place in the western world, may, probably, conduce (and who knows but that it was designed) to accelerate the fall of this abominable tyranny: and now that this contest and the passions which attend it are no more, there may succeed, perhaps, a season for reflecting, whether a legislature, which had so long lent its assistance to the support of an institution replete with human misery, was fit to be trusted with an empire, the most extensive that ever obtained in any age or quarter of the world." The publication of these sentiments may be supposed to have produced an extensive effect. For _The Moral Philosophy_ was adopted early by some of the colleges in our universities into the system of their education. It soon found its way also into most of the private libraries of the kingdom; and it was, besides, generally read and approved. Dr. Paley, therefore, must be considered, as having been a considerable coadjutor in interesting the mind of the public in favour of the oppressed Africans. In the year 1783, we find Mr. Sharp coming again into notice. We find him at this time taking a part in a cause, the knowledge of which, in proportion as it was disseminated, produced an earnest desire among all disinterested persons for the abolition of the Slave Trade. In this year, certain underwriters desired to be heard against Gregson and others of Liverpool, in the case of the ship Zong, Captain Collingwood, alleging that the captain and officers of the said vessel threw overboard one hundred and thirty-two slaves alive into the seas in order to defraud them, by claiming the value of the said slaves, as if they had been lost in a natural way. In the course of the trial which afterwards came on, it appeared, that the slaves on board the Zong were very sickly; that sixty of them had already died; and several were ill and likely to die, when the captain proposed to James Kelsall, the mate, and others, to throw several of them overboard, stating, "that if they died a natural death, the loss would fall upon the owners of the ship; but that if they were thrown into the sea, it would fall upon the underwriters." He selected, accordingly, one hundred and thirty-two of the most sickly of the slaves. Fifty-four of these were immediately thrown overboard, and forty-two were made to be partakers of their fate on the succeeding day. In the course of three days afterwards the remaining twenty-six were brought upon deck to complete the number of victims. The first sixteen submitted to be thrown into the sea; but the rest, with a noble resolution, would not suffer the officers to touch them, but leaped after their companions and shared their fate. The plea which was set up in behalf of this atrocious and unparalleled act of wickedness was, that the captain discovered, when he made the proposal, that he had only two hundred gallons of water on board, and that he had missed his port. It was proved, however, in answer to this, that no one had been put upon short allowance; and that, as if Providence had determined to afford an unequivocal proof of the guilt, a shower of rain fell and continued for three days immediately after the second lot of slaves had been destroyed, by means of which they might have filled many of their vessels[A] with water, and thus have prevented all necessity for the destruction of the third. [Footnote A: It appeared that they filled six.] Mr. Sharp was present at this trial, and procured the attendance of a short-hand writer to take down the facts, which should come out in the course of it. These he gave to the public afterwards. He communicated them also, with a copy of the trial, to the Lords of the Admiralty, as the guardians of justice upon the seas, and to the Duke of Portland, as principal minister of state. No notice, however, was taken by any of these, of the information which had been thus sent them. But though nothing was done by the persons then in power, in consequence of the murder of so many innocent individuals, yet the publication of an account of it by Mr. Sharp, in the newspapers, made such an impression upon others, that; new coadjutors rose up. For, soon after this, we find Thomas Day entering the lists again as the champion of the injured Africans. He had lived to see his poem of _The Dying Negro_, which had been published in 1773, make a considerable impression. In 1776, he had written a letter to a friend in America, who was the possessor of slaves, to dissuade him by a number of arguments from holding such property; and now, when the knowledge of the case of the ship Zong was spreading, he published that letter under the title of Fragment of an Original Letter on the Slavery of the Negroes. In this same year, Dr. Porteus, Bishop of Chester, but now Bishop of London, came forward as a new advocate for the natives of Africa. The way in which he rendered them service, was by preaching a sermon in their behalf, before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Of the wide circulation of this sermon, I shall say something in another place, but much more of the enlightened and pious author of it, who from this time never failed to aid, at every opportunity, the cause which he had so ably undertaken. In the year 1784, Dr. GREGORY produced his _Essays, Historical and Moral_. He took an opportunity of disseminating in these a circumstantial knowledge of the Slave Trade, and an equal abhorrence of it at the same time. He explained the manner of procuring slaves in Africa; the treatment of them on the passage, (in which he mentioned the case of the ship Zong) and the wicked and cruel treatment of them in the colonies. He recited and refuted also the various arguments adduced in defence of the trade. He showed that it was destructive to our seamen. He produced many weighty arguments also against the slavery itself. He proposed clauses for an Act of Parliament for the abolition of both; showing the good both to England and her colonies from such a measure, and that a trade might be substituted in Africa, in various articles, for that which he proposed to suppress. By means of the diffusion of light like this, both of a moral and political nature; Dr. Gregory is entitled to be ranked among the benefactors to the African race. In the same year, Gilbert Wakefield preached a sermon at Richmond, in Surrey, where, speaking of the people of this nation, he says, "Have we been as renowned for a liberal communication of our religion and our laws as for the possession of them! Have we navigated and conquered to save, to civilize, and to instruct; or to oppress, to plunder, and to destroy? Let India and Africa give the answer to these questions. The one we have exhausted of her wealth and her inhabitants by violence, by famine, and by every species of tyranny and murder. The children of the other we daily carry from off the land of their nativity; like sheep to the slaughter, to return no more. We tear them from every object of their affection, or, sad alternative, drag them together to the horrors of a mutual servitude! We keep them in the profoundest ignorance. We gall them in a tenfold chain, with an unrelenting spirit of barbarity, inconceivable to all but the spectators of it, unexampled among former and other nations, and unrecorded even in the bloody registers of heathen persecution. Such is the conduct of us enlightened Englishmen, reformed Christians! Thus have we profited by our superior advantages, by the favour of God, by the doctrines and example of a meek and lowly Savior. Will not the blessings which we have abused loudly testify against us? Will not the blood which we have shed cry from the ground for vengeance upon our sins?" In the same year, James Ramsay, vicar of Teston in Kent, became also an able, zealous, and indefatigable patron of the African cause. This gentleman had resided nineteen years in the island of St. Christopher, where he had observed the treatment of the slaves, and had studied the laws relating to them. On his return to England, yielding to his own feelings of duty and the solicitations of some amiable friends, he published a work, which he called _An Essay on the Treatment and Conversion of the African Slaves in the British Sugar Colonies_. After having given an account of the relative situation of master and slave in various parts of the world, he explained the low and degrading situation which the Africans held in society in our own islands. He showed that their importance would be increased; and the temporal interest of their masters promoted, by giving them freedom, and by granting them other privileges. He showed the great difficulty of instructing them in the state in which they then were, and such as he himself had experienced, both in his private and public attempts, and such as others had experienced also. He stated the way in which private attempts of this nature might probably be successful. He then answered all objections against their capacities, as drawn from philosophy, form, anatomy, and observation; and vindicated these from his own experience. And lastly, he threw out ideas for the improvement of their condition, by an establishment of a greater number of spiritual pastors among them; by giving them more privileges than they then possessed; and by extending towards them the benefits of a proper police. Mr. Ramsay had no other motive for giving this work to the public, than that of humanity, of a wish to serve this much-injured part of the human species. For he compiled it at the hazard of forfeiting that friendship, which he had contracted with many during his residence in the islands, and of suffering much in his private property, as well as subjecting himself to the ill-will and persecution of numerous individuals. The publication of this book by one who professed to have been so long resident in the islands, and to have been an eyewitness of facts, produced, as may easily be supposed, a good deal of conversation, and made a considerable impression, but particularly at this time, when a storm was visibly gathering over the heads of the oppressors of the African race. These circumstances occasioned one or two persons to attempt to answer it, and these answers brought Mr. Ramsay into the first controversy ever entered into on this subject, during which, as is the case in most controversies, the cause of truth was spread. The works which Mr. Ramsay wrote upon this subject were, the essay just mentioned, in 1784. _An Inquiry_, also, _into the Effects of the Abolition of the Slave Trade_, in 1784; _A Reply to Personal Invectives and Objections_, in 1785; _A Letter to James Tobin, Esq._, in 1787; _Objections to the Abolition of the Slave Trade, with Answers_; and _An Examination of Harris's Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave Trade_, in 1788; and _An Address on the proposed Bill for the Abolition of the Slave Trade_, in 1789. In short, from the time when he first took up the cause, he was engaged in it till his death, which was not a little accelerated by his exertions. He lived, however, to see this cause in a train of parliamentary inquiry, and he died satisfied; being convinced, as he often expressed, that the investigation must inevitably lead to the total abolition of the Slave Trade. In the next year, that is, in the year 1785, another advocate was seen in Monsieur Necker, in his celebrated work on the _French Finances_, which had just been translated into the English language from the original work, in 1784. This virtuous statesman, after having given his estimate of the population and revenue of the French West Indian colonies, proceeds thus:--"The colonies of France contain, as we have seen, near five hundred thousand slaves, and it is from the number of these poor wretches that the inhabitants set a value on their plantations. What a dreadful prospect! and how profound a subject for reflection! Alas! how little are we both in our morality and our principles! We preach up humanity, and yet go every year to bind in chains twenty thousand natives of Africa! We call the Moors barbarians and ruffians, because they attack the liberty of Europeans at the risk of their own; yet these Europeans go, without danger, and as mere speculators, to purchase slaves by gratifying the avarice of their masters, and excite all those bloody scenes which are the usual preliminaries of this traffic!" He goes on still further in the same strain. He then shows the kind of power which has supported this execrable trade. He throws out the idea of a general compact, by which all the European nations should agree to abolish it; and he indulges the pleasing hope that it may take place even in the present generation. In the same year we find other coadjutors coming before our view, but these in a line different from that in which any other belonging to this class had yet moved. Mr. George White, a clergyman of the established church, and Mr. John Chubb, suggested to Mr. William Tucket, the mayor of Bridgewater, where they resided, and to others of that town, the propriety of petitioning parliament for the abolition of the Slave Trade. This petition was agreed upon, and, when drawn up, was as follows:-- "The humble petition of the inhabitants of Bridgewater showeth, "That your petitioners, reflecting with the deepest sensibility on the deplorable condition of that part of the human species, the African Negroes, who, by the most flagitious means, are reduced to slavery and misery in the British colonies, beg leave to address this honourable house in their behalf, and to express a just abhorrence of a system of oppression, which no prospect of private gain, no consideration of public advantage, no plea of political expediency, can sufficiently justify or excuse. "That, satisfied as your petitioners are that this inhuman system meets with the general execration of mankind, they flatter themselves the day is not far distant when it will be universally abolished. And they most ardently hope to see a British parliament, by the extinction of that sanguinary traffic, extend the blessings of liberty to millions beyond this realm, held up to an enlightened world a glorious and merciful example, and stand in the defence of the violated rights of human nature." This petition was presented by the Honourable Ann Poulet, and Alexander Hood, Esq., (afterwards Lord Bridport,) who were the members for the town of Bridgewater. It was ordered to lie on the table. The answer which these gentlemen gave to their constituents relative to the reception of it in the House of Commons is worthy of notice:--"There did not appear," say they in their common letter, "the least disposition to pay any further attention to it. Every one almost says that the abolition of the Slave Trade must immediately throw the West Indian islands into convulsions, and soon complete their utter ruin. Thus they will not trust Providence for its protection for so pious an undertaking." In the year 1786, Captain J.S. Smith, of the royal navy, offered himself to the notice of the public in behalf of the African cause. Mr. Ramsay, as I have observed before, had become involved in a controversy in consequence of his support of it. His opponents not only attacked his reputation, but had the effrontery to deny his facts. This circumstance occasioned Captain Smith to come forward. He wrote a letter to his friend Mr. Hill, in which he stated that he had seen those things, while in the West Indies, which Mr. Ramsay had asserted to exist, but which had been so boldly denied. He gave, also, permission to Mr. Hill to publish this letter. Too much praise cannot be bestowed on Captain Smith, for thus standing forth in a noble cause, and in behalf of an injured character. The last of the necessary forerunners and coadjutors of this class, whom I am to mention, was our much-admired poet, Cowper; and a great coadjutor he was, when we consider what value was put upon his sentiments, and the extraordinary circulation of his works. There are few persons who have not been properly impressed by the following lines:-- My ear is pain'd, My soul is sick with every day's report, Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fill'd. There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart, It does not feel for man. The natural bond Of brotherhood is sever'd as the flax That falls asunder at the touch of fire. He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not colour'd like his own, and having power To inforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey. Lands intersected by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interpos'd, Make enemies of nations, who had else, Like kindred drops been mingled into one. Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys; And, worse than all, and most to be deplored As human Nature's broadest, foulest blot,-- Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat With stripes, that Mercy with a bleeding heart Weeps, when she sees inflicted on a beast. Then what is man? And what man, seeing this, And having human feelings, does not blush And hang his head to think himself a man? I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. No: dear as freedom is,--and in my heart's Just estimation prized above all price,-- I had much rather be myself the slave, And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him. We have no slaves at home--then why abroad? And they themselves once ferried o'er the wave That parts us, are emancipate and loos'd. Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country, and their shackles fall[A]. That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud And jealous of the blessing. Spread it, then, And let it circulate through every vein Of all your empire--that where Britain's power Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too. [Footnote A: Expressions used in the great trial, when Mr. Sharp obtained the verdict in favour of Somerset.] CHAPTER IV. --Second class of forerunners and coadjutors, up to May 1787, consists of the Quakers in England.--Of George Fox and others.--Of the body of the Quakers assembled at the yearly meeting in 1727; and at various other times.--Quakers, as a body, petition Parliament; and circulate books on the subject.--Individuals among them become labourers and associate in behalf of the Africans; Dilwyn, Harrison, and others.--This the first association ever formed in England for the purpose. The second class of the forerunners and coadjutors in this great cause, up to May 1787, will consist of the Quakers in England. The first of this class was George Fox, the venerable founder of this benevolent society. George Fox was contemporary with Richard Baxter, being born not long after him, and dying much about the same time. Like him, he left his testimony against this wicked trade. When he was in the island of Barbados, in the year 1671, he delivered himself to those who attended his religious meetings in the following manner:-- "Consider with yourselves," says he, "if you were in the same condition as the poor Africans are--who came strangers to you, and were sold to you as slaves--I say, if this should be the condition of you or yours, you would think it a hard measure; yea, and very great bondage and cruelty. And, therefore, consider seriously of this; and do you for them and to them, as you would willingly have them, or any others, do unto you, were you in the like slavish condition, and bring them to know the Lord Christ." And in his Journal, speaking of the advice which he gave his friends at Barbados, he says, "I desired also that they would cause their overseers to deal mildly and gently with their negroes, and not to use cruelty towards them, as the manner of some had been, and that after certain years of servitude they should make them free." William Edmundson, who was a minister of the society, and, indeed, a fellow-traveller with George Fox, had the boldness in the same island to deliver his sentiments to the governor on the same subject. Having been brought before him and accused of making the Africans Christians, or, in other words, of making them rebel and destroy their owners, he replied, "That it was a good thing to bring them to the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus, and to believe in him who died for them and all men, and that this would keep them from rebelling, or cutting any person's throat; but if they did rebel and cut their throats, as the governor insinuated they would, it would be their own doing, in keeping them in ignorance and under oppression, in giving them liberty to be common with women like brutes, and, on the other hand, in starving them for want of meat and clothes convenient; thus, giving them liberty in that which God restrained, and restraining them in that which was meat and clothing." I do not find any individual of this society moving in this cause, for some time after the death of George Fox and William Edmundson. The first circumstance of moment which I discover, is a resolution of the whole Society on the subject, at their yearly meeting, held in London in the year 1727. The resolution was contained in the following words:--"It is the sense of this meeting, that the importing of negroes from their native country and relations by Friends is not a commendable nor allowed practice, and is, therefore, censured by this meeting." In the year 1758, the Quakers thought it their duty, as a body, to pass another resolution upon this subject. At this, time the nature of the trade beginning to be better known, we find them more animated upon it, as the following extract will show:-- "We fervently warn all in profession with us, that they carefully avoid being any way concerned in reaping the unrighteous profits, arising from the iniquitous practice of dealing in negro or other slaves; whereby, in the original purchase, one man selleth another, as he doth the beasts that perish, without any better pretension to a property in him than that of superior force; in direct violation of the Gospel rule, which teacheth all to do as they would be done by, and to do good to all; being the reverse of that covetous disposition, which furnisheth encouragement to those poor ignorant people to perpetuate their savage wars, in order to supply the demands of this most unnatural traffic, by which great numbers of mankind, free by nature, are subject to inextricable bondage, and which hath often been observed to fill their possessors with haughtiness, tyranny, luxury, and barbarity, corrupting the minds and debasing the morals of their children, to the unspeakable prejudice of religion and virtue, and the exclusion of that holy spirit of universal love, meekness, and charity, which is the unchangeable nature and the glory of true Christianity. We, therefore, can do no less, than, with the greatest earnestness, impress it upon Friends everywhere, that they endeavour to keep their hands clear of this unrighteous gain of oppression." The Quakers hitherto, as appears by the two resolutions which have been quoted, did nothing more than seriously warn all those in religious profession with them against being concerned in this trade. But in three years afterwards, or at the yearly meeting in 1761, they came to a resolution, as we find by the following extract from their minutes, that any of their members haying a concern in it should be disowned:--"This meeting having reason to apprehend that divers under our name, are concerned in the unchristian traffic in negroes, doth recommend it earnestly to the care of Friends everywhere, to discourage, as much as in them lies, a practice so repugnant to our Christian profession; and to deal with all such as shall persevere in a conduct so reproachful to Christianity; and to disown them, if they desist not therefrom." The yearly meeting of 1761, having thus agreed to exclude from membership such as should be found concerned in this trade, that of 1763 endeavoured to draw the cords, still tighter, by attaching criminality to those who should aid and abet the trade in any manner. By the minute, which was made on this occasion, I apprehend that no one belonging to the Society could furnish even materials for such voyages. "We renew our exhortation, that Friends everywhere be especially careful to keep their hands clear of giving encouragement in any shape to the Slave Trade, it being evidently destructive of the natural rights of mankind, who are all ransomed by one Saviour, and visited by one divine light, in order to salvation; a traffic calculated to enrich and aggrandize some upon the misery of others; in its nature abhorrent to every just and tender sentiment, and contrary to the whole tenour of the Gospel." Some pleasing intelligence having been sent on this subject, by the Society in America to the Society in England, the yearly meeting of 1772 thought it their duty to notice it, and to keep their former resolutions alive by the following minute:--"It appears that the practice of holding negroes in oppressive and unnatural bondage hath been so successfully discouraged by Friends in some of the colonies, as to be considerably lessened. We cannot but approve of these salutary endeavours, and earnestly intreat that they may be continued, that through the favour of divine Providence a traffic, so unmerciful and unjust in its nature to a part of our own species made, equally with ourselves, for immortality, may come to be considered by all in its proper light, and be utterly abolished as a reproach to the Christian name." I must beg leave to stop here for a moment, just to pay the Quakers a due tribute of respect for the proper estimation, in which they have uniformly held the miserable outcasts of society, who have been the subject of these minutes. What a contrast does it afford to the sentiments of many others concerning them! How have we been compelled to prove by a long chain of evidence, that they had the same feelings and capacities as ourselves! How many, professing themselves enlightened, even now view them as of a different species! But in the minutes which have been cited we have seen them uniformly represented, as persons "ransomed by one and the same Saviour," "as visited by one and the same light for salvation," and "as made equally for immortality as others." These practical views of mankind, as they are highly honourable to the members of this Society, so they afford a proof both of the reality and of the consistency of their religion. But to return:--From this time, there appears to have been a growing desire in this benevolent society to step out of its ordinary course in behalf of this injured people. It had hitherto confined itself to the keeping of its own members unpolluted by any gain from their oppression. But it was now ready to make an appeal to others, and to bear a more public testimony in their favour. Accordingly, in the month of June, 1783, when a bill had been brought into the House of Commons for certain regulations to be made with respect to the African Trade, the society sent the following petition to that branch of the legislature:-- "Your petitioners, met in this their annual assembly, having solemnly considered the state of the enslaved negroes, conceive themselves engaged, in religious duty, to lay the suffering situation of that unhappy people before you, as a subject loudly calling for the humane interposition of the legislature, "Your petitioners regret that a nation, professing the Christian faith, should so far counteract the principles of humanity and justice, as by the cruel treatment of this oppressed race to fill their minds with prejudices against the mild and beneficent doctrines of the gospel. "Under the countenance of the laws of this country, many thousand of these our fellow-creatures, entitled to the natural rights of mankind, are held as personal property in cruel bondage; and your petitioners being informed that a Bill for the Regulation of the African Trade is now before the House, containing a clause which restrains the officers of the African Company from exporting negroes, your petitioners, deeply affected with a consideration of the rapine, oppression, and bloodshed, attending this traffic, humbly request that this restriction may be extended to all persons whomsoever, or that the House would grant such other relief in the premises as in its wisdom may seem meet." This petition was presented by Sir Cecil Wray, who, on introducing it, spoke very respectfully of the society. He declared his hearty approbation of their application, and said he hoped he should see the day when not a slave would remain within the dominions of this realm. Lord North seconded the motion, saying he could have no objection to the petition, and that its object ought to recommend it to every humane breast; that it did credit to the most benevolent society in the world; but that, the session, being so far advanced, the subject, could not then be taken into consideration; and he regretted that the Slave Trade, against which the petition was so justly directed, was in a commercial view become necessary to almost every nation of Europe. The petition was then brought up and read, after which it was ordered to lie on the table. This was the first petition (being two years earlier than that from the inhabitants of Bridgewater), which was ever presented to parliament for the abolition of the Slave Trade. But the society did not stop here; for having at the yearly meeting of 1783 particularly recommended the cause to a standing committee, appointed to act at intervals, called the Meeting for Sufferings, the latter in this same year resolved upon an address to the public, entitled, _The Case of our Fellow-creatures, the oppressed Africans, respectfully recommended to the serious Consideration of the Legislature of Great Britain, by the People called Quakers_: in which they endeavoured, in the most pathetic manner, to make the reader acquainted with the cruel nature of this trade; and they ordered 2000 copies of it to be printed. In the year 1784, they began the distribution of this case. The first copy was sent to the king through Lord Carmarthen, and the second and the third, through proper officers, to the queen and the Prince of Wales. Others were sent by a deputation of two members of the society to Mr. Pitt, as prime-minister; to the Lord Chancellor Thurlow; to Lord Gower, as president of the council; to Lords Carmarthen and Sidney, as secretaries of state; to Lord Chief-Justice Mansfield; to Lord Howe, as first lord of the Admiralty; and to C.F. Cornwall, Esq., as speaker of the House of Commons. Copies were sent also to every member of both houses of parliament. The society, in the same year, anxious that the conduct of its members should be consistent with its public profession on this great subject, recommended it to the quarterly and monthly meetings to inquire through their respective districts, whether any, bearing its name, were in any way concerned in the traffic, and to deal with such, and to report the success of their labours in the ensuing year. Orders were also given for the reprinting and circulation of 10,000 other copies of _The Case_. In the year 1785, the society interested itself again in a similar manner. For the Meeting for Sufferings, as representing it, recommended to the quarterly meetings to distribute a work, written by Anthony Benezet, in America, called _A Caution to Great Britain and her Colonies, in a short Representation of the calamitous State of the enslaved Negroes in the British Dominions._ This book was accordingly forwarded to them for this purpose. On receiving it, they sent it among several public bodies, the regular and dissenting clergy, justices of the peace, and particularly among the great Schools of the kingdom, that the rising youth might acquire a knowledge, and at the same time a detestation, of this cruel traffic. In this latter base, a deputation of the society waited, upon the masters, to know if they would allow their scholars to receive it. The schools of Westminster, the Charter-house, St. Paul, Merchant-Taylors, Eton, Winchester, and Harrow, were among those visited. Several academies also were visited for this purpose. But I must now take my leave of the Quakers as a public body[A] and go back to the year 1783, to record an event, which will be found of great importance in the present history, and in which only individuals belonging to the society were concerned. This event seems to have arisen naturally out of existing or past circumstances. For the society, as I have before stated, had sent a petition to parliament in this year, praying for the abolition, of the Slave Trade. It had also laid the foundation for a public distribution of the books as just mentioned, with a view of enlightening others on this great subject. The case of the ship Zong, which I have before had occasion to explain, had occurred this same year. A letter also had been presented, much about the same time, by Benjamin West, from Anthony Benezet, before mentioned, to our queen, in behalf of the injured Africans, which she had received graciously. These subjects occupied at this time the attention of many Quaker families, and among others, that of a few individuals, who were in close intimacy with each other. These, when they met together, frequently conversed upon them. They perceived, as facts came out in conversation, that there was a growing knowledge and hatred of the Slave Trade, and that the temper of the times was ripening towards its abolition. Hence a disposition manifested itself among these, to unite as labourers for the furtherance of so desirable an object. An union was at length proposed and approved of, and the following persons (placed in alphabetical order) came together to execute the offices growing out of it:-- [Footnote A: The Quakers, as a public body, kept the subject alive at their yearly meeting in 1784, 1785, 1787, &c.] WILLIAM DILLWYN, THOMAS KNOWLES, M.D. GEORGE HARRISON, JOHN LLOYD, SAMUEL HOARE, JOSEPH WOODS. The first meeting was held on the seventh of July, 1783. At this "they assembled to consider what steps they should take for the relief and liberation of the negro slaves in the West Indies, and for the discouragement of the Slave Trade on the coast of Africa." To promote this object; they conceived it necessary that the public mind should be enlightened respecting it. They had recourse; therefore, to the public papers, and they appointed their members in turn to write in these, and to see that their productions were inserted. They kept regular minutes for this purpose. It was not however known to the world that such an association existed. It appears that they had several meetings in the course of this year. Before the close of it they had secured a place in the _General Evening Post_, in _Lloyd's Evening Post_, in the Norwich, Bath, York, Bristol, Sherborne, Liverpool, Newcastle, and other provincial papers, for such articles as they chose to send to them. These consisted principally of extracts from such authors, both in prose and verse, as they thought would most enlighten and interest the mind upon the subject of their institution. In the year 1784 they pursued the same plan; but they began now to print books. The first was from a manuscript composed by Joseph Woods, one of the committee; It was entitled, _Thoughts on the Slavery of the Negroes_. This manuscript was well put together. It was a manly and yet feeling address in behalf of the oppressed Africans. It contained a sober and dispassionate appeal to the reason of all, without offending the prejudices of any. It was distributed at the expense of the association, and proved to be highly useful to the cause which it was intended to promote. A communication having been made to the committee, that Dr. Porteus, then Bishop of Chester, had preached a sermon before the society for the propagation of the gospel, in behalf of the injured Africans, (which sermon was noticed in the last chapter,) Samuel Hoare was deputed to obtain permission to publish it. This led him to a correspondence with Mr. Ramsay before mentioned. The latter applied in consequence to the bishop, and obtained his consent. Thus this valuable sermon was also given to the world. In the year 1785, the association continued their exertions as before; but I have no room to specify them. I may observe, however, that David Barclay, a grandson of the great apologist of that name, assisted at one of their meetings, and (what is singular) that he was in a few years afterwards unexpectedly called to a trial of his principles on this very subject. For he and his brother John became, in consequence of a debt due to them, possessed of a large grazing farm, or pen, in Jamaica, which had thirty-two slaves upon it. Convinced, however, that the retaining of their fellow-creatures in bondage was not only irreconcilable with the principles of Christianity, but subversive of the rights of human nature, they determined upon the emancipation of these. And they[A] performed this generous office to the satisfaction of their minds, to the honour of their characters, to the benefit of the public, and to the happiness of the slave[B]. I mention this anecdote, not only to gratify myself, by paying a proper respect to those generous persons who sacrificed their interest to principle, but also to show the sincerity of David Barclay, (who is now the only surviving brother,) as he actually put in practice what at one of these meetings he was desirous of recommending to others. [Footnote A: They engaged an agent to embark for Jamaica in 1796 to effect this business, and had the slaves conveyed to Philadelphia, where they were kindly received by the Society for improving the Condition of free Black people. Suitable situations were found for the adults, and the young ones were bound out apprentices to handicraft trades, and to receive school learning.] [Footnote B: James Pemberton, of Philadelphia, made the following observation in a letter to a Friend in England:--"David Barclay's humane views towards the Blacks from Jamaica have been so far realized, that these objects of his concern enjoy their freedom with comfort to themselves, and are respectable in their characters, keeping up a friendly intercourse with each other, and avoiding to intermix with the common Blacks of this city, being sober in their conduct and industrious in their business."] Having now brought up the proceedings of this little association towards the year 1786, I shall take my leave of it, remarking, that it was the first ever formed in England for the promotion of the abolition of the Slave Trade. That Quakers have had this honour is unquestionable. Nor is it extraordinary that they should have taken the lead on this occasion, when we consider how advantageously they have been situated for so doing. For the Slave Trade, as we have not long ago seen, came within the discipline of the society in the year 1727. From thence it continued to be an object of it till 1783. In 1783 the society petitioned parliament, and in 1784 it distributed books to enlighten the public concerning it. Thus we see that every Quaker, born since the year 1727, was nourished as it were in a fixed hatred against it. He was taught, that any concern in it was a crime of the deepest dye. He was taught, that the bearing of his testimony against it was a test of unity with those of the same religious profession. The discipline of the Quakers was therefore a school for bringing them up as advocates for the abolition of this trade. To this it may be added, that the Quakers knew more about the trade and the slavery of the Africans, than any other religious body of men, who had not been in the land of their sufferings. For there had been a correspondence between the society in America and that in England on the subject, the contents of which must have been known to the members of each. American ministers also were frequently crossing the Atlantic on religious missions to England. These, when they travelled through various parts of our island, frequently related to the Quaker families in their way the cruelties they had seen and heard of in their own country. English ministers were also frequently going over to America on the same religious errand. These, on their return, seldom failed to communicate what they had learned or observed, but more particularly relative to the oppressed Africans, in their travels. The journals also of these, which gave occasional accounts of the sufferings of the slaves, were frequently published. Thus situated in point of knowledge, and brought up moreover from their youth in a detestation of the trade, the Quakers were ready to act whenever a favourable opportunity should present itself. CHAPTER V. Third class of forerunners and coadjutors, up to 1787, consists of the Quakers and others in America.--Yearly meeting for Pennsylvania and the Jerseys takes up the subject in 1696; and continue it till 1787.--Other five yearly meetings take similar measures.--Quakers, as individuals, also become labourers; William Burling and others.--Individuals of other religious denominations take up the cause also; Judge Sewell and others.--Union of the Quakers with others in a society for Pennsylvania, in 1774; James Pemberton; Dr. Rush.--Similar union of the Quakers with others for New York and other provinces. The next class of the forerunners and coadjutors, up to the year 1787, will consist, first, of the Quakers in America; and then of others, as they were united to these for the same object. It may be asked, How the Quakers living there should have become forerunners and coadjutors in the great work now under our consideration. I reply, first, that it was an object for many years with these to do away the Slave Trade as it was carried on in their own ports. But this trade was conducted in part, both before and after the independence of America, by our own countrymen. It was, secondly, an object with these to annihilate slavery in America; and this they have been instruments in accomplishing to a considerable extent. But any abolition of slavery within given boundaries must be a blow to the Slave Trade there. The American Quakers, lastly, living in a land where both the commerce and slavery existed, were in the way of obtaining a number of important facts relative to both, which made for their annihilation; and communicating many of these facts to those in England, who espoused the same cause, they became fellow-labourers with these in producing the event in question. The Quakers in America, it must be owned, did most of them originally as other settlers there with respect to the purchase of slaves. They had lands without a sufficient number of labourers, and families without a sufficient number of servants, for their work. Africans were poured in to obviate these difficulties, and these were bought promiscuously by all. In these days, indeed, the purchase of them was deemed favourable to both parties, for there was little or no knowledge of the manner in which they had been procured as slaves. There was no charge of inconsistency on this account, as in later times. But though many of the Quakers engaged, without their usual consideration, in purchases of this kind, yet those constitutional principles, which belong to the society, occasioned the members of it in general to treat those whom they purchased with great tenderness, considering them, though of a different colour, as brethren, and as persons for whose spiritual welfare it became them to be concerned; so that slavery, except as to the power legally belonging to it, was in general little more than servitude in their hands. This treatment, as it was thus mild on the continent of America where the members of this society were the owners of slaves, so it was equally mild in The West India Islands where they had a similar property. In the latter countries, however, where only a few of them lived, it began soon to be productive of serious consequences; for it was so different from that which the rest of the inhabitants considered to be proper, that the latter became alarmed at it. Hence in Barbados an act was passed in 1676, under Governor Atkins, which was entitled, An Act to prevent the people called Quakers from bringing their Negroes into their meetings for worship, though they held these in their own houses. This act was founded on the pretence, that the safety of the island might be endangered, if the slaves were to imbibe the religious principles of their masters. Under this act Ralph Fretwell and Richard Sutton were fined in the different sums of eight hundred and of three hundred pounds, because each of them had suffered a meeting of the Quakers at his own house, at the first of which eighty negroes, and at the second of which thirty of them were present. But this matter was carried still further; for in 1680, Sir Richard Dutton, then governor of the island, issued an order to the Deputy Provost Marshal and others, to prohibit all meetings of this society. In the island of Nevis the same bad spirit manifested itself. So early as in 1661, a law was made there prohibiting members of this society from coming on shore. Negroes were put in irons for being present at their meetings, and they themselves were fined also. At length, in 1677, another act was passed, laying a heavy penalty on every master of a vessel who should even bring a Quaker to the island. In Antigua and Bermudas similar proceedings took place, so that the Quakers were in time expelled from this part of the world. By these means a valuable body of men were lost to the community in these islands, whose example might have been highly useful; and the poor slave, who saw nothing but misery in his temporal prospects, was deprived of the only balm which could have soothed his sorrow--the comfort of religion. But to return to the continent of America. Though the treatment which the Quakers adopted there towards those Africans who fell into their hands, was so highly commendable, it did not prevent individuals among them from becoming uneasy about holding them in slavery at all. Some of these bore their private testimony against it from the beginning as a wrong practice, and in process of time brought it before the notice of their brethren as a religious body. So early as in the year 1688, some emigrants from Krieshiem in Germany, who had adopted the principles of William Penn, and followed him into Pennsylvania, urged, in the yearly meeting of the society there, the inconsistency of buying, selling, and holding men in slavery, with the principles of the Christian religion. In the year 1696, the yearly meeting for that province took up the subject as a public concern, and the result was, advice to the members of it to guard against future-importations of African slaves, and to be particularly attentive to the treatment of those who were then in their possession. In the year 1711, the same yearly meeting resumed the important subject, and confirmed and renewed the advice which had been before given. From this time it continued to keep the subject alive; but finding at length, that though individuals refused to purchase slaves, yet others continued the custom, and in greater numbers than it was apprehended would have been the case after the public declarations which had been made, it determined, in the year 1754, upon a fuller and more serious publication of its sentiments; and therefore it issued, in the same year, the following pertinent letter to all the members within its jurisdiction:-- Dear Friends, It hath frequently been the concern of our yearly meeting to testify their uneasiness and disunity with the importation and purchasing of negroes and other slaves, and to direct the overseers of the several meetings to advise and deal with such as engage therein. And it hath likewise been the continual care of many weighty friends to press those who bear our name, to guard, as much as possible, against being in any respect concerned in promoting the bondage of such unhappy people. Yet, as we have with sorrow to observe, that their number is of late increased among us, we have thought it proper to make our advice and judgment more public, that none may plead ignorance of our principles therein; and also again earnestly to exhort all to avoid, in any manner, encouraging that practice of making slaves of our fellow-creatures. Now, dear friends, if we continually bear in mind the royal law of doing to others as we would be done by, we should never think of bereaving our fellow-creatures of that valuable blessing--liberty, nor endure to grow rich by their bondage. To live in ease and plenty by the toil of those whom violence and cruelty have put in our power, is neither consistent with Christianity nor common justice; and, we have good reason to believe, draws down the displeasure of Heaven; it being a melancholy but true reflection, that, where slave-keeping prevails, pure religion and sobriety decline, as it evidently tends to harden the heart, and render the soul less susceptible of that holy spirit of love, meekness and charity, which is the peculiar characteristic of a true Christian. How then can we, who have been concerned to publish the Gospel of universal love and peace among mankind, be so inconsistent with ourselves, as to purchase such as are prisoners of war, and thereby encourage, this anti-Christian practice; and more especially as many of these poor creatures are stolen away, parents from children, and children from parents; and others, who were in good circumstances in their native country, inhumanly torn from what they esteemed a happy situation, and compelled to toil in a state of slavery, too often extremely cruel! What dreadful scenes of murder and cruelty those barbarous ravages must occasion in these unhappy people's country are too obvious to mention. Let us make their case our own, and consider what we should think, and how we should feel, were we in their circumstances. Remember our blessed Redeemer's positive command--to do unto others as we would have them do unto us;--and that with what measure we mete, it shall be measured to us again. And we intreat you to examine, whether the purchasing of a negro, either born here or imported, doth not contribute to a further importation, and, consequently, to the upholding of all the evils above mentioned, and to the promoting of man-stealing, the, only theft which by the Mosaic law was punished with death;--He that stealeth a man and selleth him or if he be found in his hand, he shall surely be put to death.' The characteristic and badge of a true Christian is love and continual exercise of them: 'Love one, another,' says he, 'as I have loved you.' But how can we be said to love our brethren who bring, or, for selfish ends, keep them in bondage? Do we act consistently with this noble principle, who lay such heavy burdens on our fellow creatures? Do we consider that they are called and do we sincerely desire that they may become heirs with us in glory, and that they may rejoice in the liberty of the sons of God, whilst we are withholding from them the common liberties of mankind? Or can the spirit of God, by which we have always professed to be led, be the author of these oppressive and unrighteous measures? Or do we not thereby manifest, that temporal interest hath more influence on our conduct herein, than the dictates of that merciful, holy, and unerring Guide? And we, likewise, earnestly recommend to all who have slaves, to be careful to come up in the performance of their duty towards them, and to be particularly watchful over their own hearts, it being, by sorrowful experience, remarkable that custom and a familiarity with evil of any kind, have a tendency to bias the judgment and to deprave the mind; and it is obvious, that the future welfare of these poor slaves, who are now in bondage, is generally too much disregarded by those who keep them. If their daily task of labour be but fulfilled, little else, perhaps, is thought of: nay, even that which in others would be looked upon with horror and detestation, is little regarded in them by their masters; such as the frequent separation of husbands from wives, and wives from husbands, whereby they are tempted to break their marriage covenants, and live in adultery, in direct opposition to the laws of God and men, although we believe that Christ died for all men without respect of persons. How fearful then ought we to be of engaging in what hath so natural a tendency to lesson our humanity, and of suffering ourselves to be inured to the exercise of hard and cruel measures, lest thereby, in any degree, we lose our tender and feeling sense of the miseries of our fellow-creatures, and become worse than those who have not believed. And, dear friends, you, who by inheritance have slaves born in your families, we beseech you to consider them as souls committed to your trust, whom the Lord will require at your hand, and who, as well as you, are made partakers of the Spirit of grace, and called to be heirs of salvation. And let it be your constant care to watch over them for good, instructing them in the fear of God and the knowledge of the Gospel of Christ, that they may answer the end of their creation, and that God may be glorified and honoured by them, as well as by us. And so train them up, that if you should come to behold their unhappy situation, in the same light that many worthy men who are at rest have done, and many of your brethren now do, and should think it your duty to set them free, they may be the more capable of making proper use of their liberty. Finally, brethren, we intreat you, in the bowels of Gospel-love, seriously to weigh the Cause of detaining them in bondage. If it be for your own private gain, or any other motive than their good, it is much to be feared that the love of God, and the influence of the Holy Spirit, are not the prevailing principles in you, and that your hearts are not sufficiently redeemed from the world, which, that you with ourselves may more and more come to witness, through the cleansing virtue of the Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ, is our earnest desire. With the salutation of our love we are your friends and brethren:-- _"Signed, in behalf of the yearly meeting, by_ JOHN EVANS, ABRAHAM FARRINGDON, JOHN SMITH, JOSEPH NOBLE, THOMAS CARLETON, JAMES DANIEL, WILLIAM TRIMBLE, JOSEPH GIBSON, JOHN SCARBOROUGH, JOHN SHOTWELL, JOSEPH HAMPTON, JOSEPH PARKER." This truly Christian letter, which was written in the year 1754, was designed, as we collect from the contents of it, to make the sentiments of the society better known and attended to on the subject of the Slave Trade. It contains, as we see, exhortations to all the members within the yearly meeting of Pennsylvania and the Jerseys, to desist from purchasing and importing slaves, and, where they possessed them, to have a tender consideration of their condition. But that the first part of the subject of this exhortation might be enforced, the yearly meeting for the same provinces came to a resolution in 1755, That if any of the members belonging to it bought or imported slaves, the overseers were to inform their respective monthly meetings of it, that "these might treat with them, as they might be directed in the wisdom of truth." In the year 1774, we find the same yearly meeting legislating again on the same subject. By the preceding resolution they who became offenders, were subjected only to exclusion from the meetings for discipline, and from the privilege of contributing to the pecuniary occasions of the Society; but, by the resolution of the present year, all members concerned in importing, selling, purchasing, giving, or transferring negro or other slaves, or otherwise acting in such manner as to continue them in slavery beyond the term limited by law[A] or custom, were directed to be excluded from membership or disowned. At this meeting also all the members of it were cautioned and advised against acting as executors or administrators to estates, where slaves were bequeathed, or likely to be detained in bondage. [Footnote A: This alludes to the term of servitude for white persons in these provinces.] In the year 1776, the same yearly meeting carried the matter still further. It was enacted, That the owners of slaves, who refused to execute proper instruments for giving them their freedom, were to be disowned likewise. In 1778 it was enacted by the same meeting, that the children of those who had been set free by members, should be tenderly advised, and have a suitable education given them. It is not necessary to proceed further on this subject. It may be sufficient to say, that from this time the minutes of the yearly meeting for Pennsylvania and the Jerseys exhibit proofs of an almost incessant attention, year after year[B], to the means not only of wiping away the stain of slavery from their religious community, but of promoting the happiness of those restored to freedom, and of their posterity also; and as the yearly meeting of Pennsylvania and the Jerseys set this bright example, so those of New England, New York, Maryland, Virginia, and of the Carolinas and Georgia, in process of time followed it. [Footnote B: Thus in 1778-1782, 1784-1786. The members also of this meeting petitioned their own legislature on this subject, both in 1783 and in 1786.] But, whilst the Quakers were making these exertions at their different yearly meetings in America, as a religious body, to get rid both of the commerce and slavery of their fellow-creatures, others, in the same profession; were acting as individuals, (that is, on their own grounds, and independently of any influence from their religious communion,) in the same cause, whose labours it will now be proper, in a separate narrative, to detail. The first person of this description in the Society, was William Burling, of Long Island. He had conceived an abhorrence of slavery from early youth. In process of time he began to bear his testimony against it, by representing the unlawfulness of it to those of his own Society, when assembled at one of their yearly meetings. This expression of his public testimony, he continued annually on the same occasion. He wrote also several Tracts with the same design, one of which, published in the year 1718, he addressed to the elders of his own church, on the inconsistency of compelling people and their posterity to serve them continually and arbitrarily, and without any proper recompense for their services. The next was Ralph Sandiford, a merchant in Philadelphia. This worthy person had many offers of pecuniary assistance, which would have advanced him in life, but he declined them all because they came from persons who had acquired their independence by the oppression of their slaves. He was very earnest in endeavouring to prevail upon his friends, both, in and out of the society, to liberate those whom they held in bondage. At length he determined upon a work called the _Mystery of Iniquity_, in a brief examination of the practice of the times. This he published in the year 1780, though the chief judge had threatened him if he should give it to the world, and he circulated it free of expense wherever he believed it would be useful. The above work was excellent as a composition; the language of it was correct; the style manly and energetic; and it abounded with facts, sentiments, and quotations, which, while, they showed the virtue and talents of the author, rendered it a valuable appeal in behalf of the African cause. The next public advocate was Benjamin Lay[A], who lived at Abington, at the distance of twelve or fourteen miles from Philadelphia. Benjamin Lay was known, when in England, to the royal family of that day, into whose private presence he was admitted. On his return to America, he took an active part in behalf of the oppressed Africans. In the year 1737, he published a _Treatise on Slave-Keeping_. This he gave away among his neighbours and others, but more particularly among the rising youth, many of whom he visited in their respective schools. He applied also to several of the governors for interviews, with whom he held conferences on the subject. Benjamin Lay was a man of strong understanding and of great integrity, but of warm and irritable feelings, and more particularly so when he was called forth on any occasion in which the oppressed Africans were concerned; for he had lived in the island of Barbados, and he had witnessed there scenes of cruelty towards them which had greatly disturbed his mind, and which unhinged it, as it were, whenever the subject of their sufferings was brought before him. Hence, if others did not think precisely as he did, when he conversed with them on the subject, he was apt to go out of due bounds. In bearing what he believed to be his testimony against this system of oppression, he adopted sometimes a singularity of manner, by which, as conveying demonstration of a certain eccentricity of character, he diminished in some degree his usefulness to the cause which he had undertaken; as far, indeed, as this eccentricity might have the effect of preventing others from joining him in his pursuit, lest they should be thought singular also, so far it must be allowed that he ceased to become beneficial. But there can be no question, on the other hand, that his warm and enthusiastic manners awakened the attention of many to the cause, and gave them first impressions concerning it, which they never afterwards forgot, and which rendered them useful to it in the subsequent part of their lives. [Footnote A: Benjamin Lay attended the meetings for worship, or associated himself with the religious society of the Quakers. His wife, too, was an approved minister of the Gospel in that society; but I believe he was not long an acknowledged member of it himself.] The person who laboured next in the society, in behalf of the oppressed Africans, was John Woolman. John Woolman was born at Northampton, in the county of Burlington and province of Western New Jersey, in the year 1720. In his very early youth he attended, in an extraordinary manner, to the religious impressions which he perceived upon his mind, and began to have an earnest solicitude about treading in the right path. "From what I had read and heard," says he, in his Journal[A], "I believed there had been in past ages, people who walked in uprightness before God in a degree exceeding any, that I knew or heard of, now living. And the apprehension of there being less steadiness and firmness among people of this age, than in past ages, often troubled me while I was a child." An anxious desire to do away, as far as himself was concerned, this merited reproach, operated as one among other causes to induce him to be particularly watchful over his thoughts and actions, and to endeavour to attain that purity of heart, without which he conceived there could be no perfection of the Christian character. Accordingly, in the twenty-second year of his age, he had given such proof of the integrity of his life, and of his religious qualifications, that he became an acknowledged minister of the Gospel in his own society. [Footnote A: This short sketch of the life and labours of John Woolman, is made up from his Journal.] At a time prior to his entering upon the ministry, being in low circumstances, he agreed for wages to "attend shop for a person at Mount Holly, and to keep his books." In this situation we discover, by an occurrence that happened, that he had thought seriously on the subject, and that he had conceived proper views of the Christian unlawfulness of slavery. "My employer," says he, "having a Negro woman, sold her, and desired me to write a bill of sale, the man being waiting who bought her. The thing was sudden, and though the thought of writing an instrument of slavery for one of my fellow-creatures made me feel uneasy, yet I remembered I was hired by the year, that it was my master who directed me to do it, and that it was an elderly man, a member of our society, who bought her. So through weakness I gave way and wrote, but, at executing it, I was so afflicted in my mind, that I said before my master and the friend, that I believed slave-keeping to be a practice inconsistent with the Christian religion. This in some degree abated my uneasiness; yet, as often as I reflected seriously upon it, I thought I should have been clearer, if I had desired to have been excused from it, as a thing against my conscience; for such it was. And some time after this, a young man of our society spoke to me to write a conveyance of a slave to him, he having lately taken a Negro into his house. I told him I was not easy to write it; for though many of our meeting, and in other places, kept slaves, I still believed the practice was not right, and desired to be excused from the writing. I spoke to him in good-will; and he told me that keeping slaves was not altogether agreeable to his mind, but that the slave being a gift to his wife he had accepted of her." We may easily conceive that a person so scrupulous and tender on this subject, (as indeed John Woolman was on all others,) was in the way of becoming in time more eminently serviceable to his oppressed fellow-creatures. We have seen already the good seed sown in his heart, and it seems to have wanted only providential seasons and occurrences to be brought into productive fruit. Accordingly we find that a journey, which he took as a minister of the Gospel in 1746 through the provinces of Maryland, Virginia, and, North Carolina, which were then more noted than others for the number of slaves in them, contributed to prepare him as an instrument for the advancement of this great cause. The following are his own observations upon this journey:--"Two things were remarkable to me in this journey; first, in regard to my entertainment. When I ate, drank, and lodged free-cost, with people who lived in ease on the hard labour of their slaves, I felt uneasy; and, as my mind was inward to the Lord, I found, from place to place, this uneasiness return upon me at times through the whole visit. Where the masters bore a good share of the burden and lived frugally, so that their servants were well provided for; and their labour moderate, I felt more easy; but where they lived in a costly way, and laid heavy burdens on their slaves, my exercise was often great, and I frequently had conversations with them in private concerning it. Secondly, this trade of importing slaves from their native country being much encouraged among them, and the white people and their children so generally living without much labour, was frequently the subject of my serious thoughts: and I saw in these southern provinces so many vices and corruptions, increased by this trade and this way of life, that it appeared to me as a gloom over the land." From the year 1747 to the year 1758, he seems to have been occupied chiefly as a minister of religion, but in the latter year he published a work upon slave-keeping; and in the same year, while travelling within the compass of his own monthly meeting, a circumstance happened which kept alive his attention to the same Subjects. "About this time" says he, "a person at some distance lying sick, his brother came to me to write his will. I knew he had slaves, and asking his brother was told he intended to leave them as slaves to his children. As writing was a profitable employ, and as offending sober people was disagreeable to my inclination, I was straitened in my mind, but as I looked to the Lord he inclined my heart to his testimony; and I told the man that I believed the practice of continuing slavery to this people was not right, and that I had a scruple in my mind against doing writings of that kind; that, though many in our society kept them as slaves, still I was not easy to be concerned in it, and desired to be excused from going to write the will. I spoke to him in the fear of the Lord; and he made no reply to what I said, but went away: he also had some concerns in the practice, and I thought he was displeased with me. In this case I had a confirmation, that acting contrary to present outward interest from a motive of Divine love, and in regard to truth and righteousness, opens the way to a treasure better than silver, and to a friendship exceeding the friendship of men." From 1753 to 1755, two circumstances of a similar kind took place, which contributed greatly to strengthen him in the path he had taken; for in both these cases the persons who requested him to make their wills were so impressed by the principle upon which he refused them, and by his manner of doing it, that they bequeathed liberty to their slaves. In the year 1756, he made a religious visit to several of the society in Long Island. Here it was that the seed, now long fostered by the genial influences of Heaven, began to burst forth into fruit; Till this time he seems to have been a passive instrument, attending only to such circumstances as came in his way on this subject. But now he became an active one, looking out for circumstances for the exercise of his labours. "My mind," says he; "was deeply engaged in this visit, both in public and private; and at several places, observing that members kept slaves, I found myself under a necessity, in a friendly way, to labour with them, on that subject, expressing, as the way opened, the inconsistency of that practice with the parity of the Christian religion, and the ill effects of it as manifested amongst us." In the year 1757, he felt, his mind so deeply interested on the same subject, that he resolved to travel over Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, in order to try to convince persons, principally in his own society, of the inconsistency of holding slaves. He joined his brother with him in this arduous service. Having passed the Susquehanna into Maryland, he began to experience great agitation of mind. "Soon after I entered this province," says he, "a deep and painful exercise came upon me, which I often had some feeling of since my mind was drawn towards these parts, and with which I had acquainted my brother, before we agreed to join as companions." "As the people in this and the southern provinces live much on the labour of slaves, many of whom are used hardly, my concern was that I might attend with singleness of heart to the voice of the true Shepherd, and be so supported, as to remain unmoved at the faces of men." It is impossible for me to follow him in detail, through this long and interesting journey, when I consider the bounds I have prescribed to myself in this work. I shall say, therefore, what I propose to offer generally, and in a few words. It appears that he conversed with persons occasionally, who were not of his own society, with a view of answering their arguments, and of endeavouring to evince the wickedness and impolicy of slavery. In discoursing with these, however strenuous he might appear, he seems never to have departed from a calm, modest, and yet dignified and even friendly demeanour. At the public meetings for discipline, held by his own society in these provinces, he endeavoured to display the same truths, and in the same manner, but particularly to the elders of his own society, exhorting them, as the most conspicuous rank, to be careful of their conduct, and to give a bright example in the liberation of their slaves. He visited, also, families for the same purpose: and he had the well-earned satisfaction of finding his admonitions kindly received by some, and of seeing a disposition in others to follow the advice he had given them. In the year 1758, he attended the yearly meeting at Philadelphia, where he addressed his brethren on the propriety of dealing with such members as should hereafter purchase slaves. On the discussion of this point he spoke a second time, and this to such effect that, he had the satisfaction at this meeting to see minutes made more fully than any before, and a committee appointed for the advancement of the great object, to which he had now been instrumental in turning the attention of many, and to witness a considerable spreading of the cause. In the same year, also, he joined himself with two others of the society to visit such members of it as possessed slaves in Chester county. In this journey he describes himself to have met with several who were pleased with his visit, but to have found difficulties with others, towards whom, however, he felt a sympathy and tenderness, on account of their being entangled by the spirit of the world. In the year 1759, he visited several of the society who held slaves in Philadelphia. In about three months afterwards, he travelled there again, in company with John Churchman, to see others under similar circumstances. He then went to different places on the same errand. In this last journey he went alone. After this he joined himself to John Churchman again, but he confined his labours to his own province. Here he had the pleasure of finding that the work prospered. Soon after this he took Samuel Eastburne as a coadjutor, and pleaded the cause of the poor Africans with many of the society in Bucks county, who held them in bondage there. In the year 1760, he travelled, in company with his friend Samuel Eastburne, to Rhode Island, to promote the same object. This island had been long noted for its trade to Africa for slaves. He found at Newport, the great sea-port town belonging to it, that a number of them had been lately imported. He felt his mind deeply impressed on this account. He was almost over-powered in consequence of it, and became ill. He thought once of prompting a petition to the legislature, to discourage all such importations in future. He then thought of going and speaking to the House of Assembly, which was then sitting; but he was discouraged from both these proceedings. He held, however, conference with many of his own society in the meeting-house chamber, where the subject of his visit was discussed on both sides with a calm and peaceable spirit. Many of those present manifested the concern they felt at their former practices, and others a desire of taking suitable care of their slaves at their decease. From Newport he proceeded to Nantucket; but observing the members of the society there to have few or no slaves, he exhorted them to persevere in abstaining from the use of them, and returned home. In the year 1761, he visited several families in Pennsylvania, and, in about three months afterwards, others about Shrewsbury and Squan in New Jersey. On his return he added a part to the treatise before published on the keeping of care which had been growing upon him for some years. In the year 1762, he printed, published, and distributed this treatise. In 1767, he went on foot to the western shores of the same province on a religious visit. After having crossed the Susquehanna, his old feelings returned to him; for coming amongst people living in outward ease and greatness, chiefly on the labour of slaves, his heart was much affected, and he waited with humble resignation to learn how he should further perform his duty to this injured people. The travelling on foot, though it was agreeable to the state of his mind, he describes to have been wearisome to his body. He felt himself weakly at times, in consequence of it, but yet continued to travel on. At one of the quarterly meetings of the society, being in great sorrow and heaviness, and under deep exercise on account of the miseries of the poor Africans, he expressed himself freely to those present, who held them in bondage. He expatiated on the tenderness and loving-kindness of the apostles, as manifested in labours, perils, and sufferings, towards the poor Gentiles, and contracted their treatment of the Gentiles with it, whom he described in the persons of their slaves; and was much satisfied with the result of his discourse. From this time we collect little more, from his journal concerning him, than that, in 1772, he embarked for England on a religious visit. After his arrival there, he travelled through many counties, preaching in different meetings of the society, till he came to the city of York. But even here, though he was far removed from the sight of those whose interests he had so warmly espoused, he was not forgetful of their wretched condition. At the quarterly meeting for that county, he brought their case before, those present in an affecting manner. He exhorted these to befriend their cause. He remarked that as they, the society, when under outward sufferings, had often found a concern to lay them before the legislature, and thereby, in the Lord's time, had obtained relief; so he recommended this oppressed part of the creation to their notice, that they might, as, the way opened, represent their sufferings as individuals, if not as a religious society, to those in authority in this land. This was the last opportunity that he had of interesting himself in behalf of this injured people for soon afterwards he was seized with the small-pox at the house of a friend in the city of York, where he died. The next person belonging to the society of the Quakers, who laboured in behalf of the oppressed Africans, was Anthony Benezet. He was born before, and he lived after, John Woolman; of course he was contemporary with him. I place him after John Woolman, because he was not so much known as a labourer, till two or three years after the other had begin to move in the same cause. Anthony Benezet was born at St. Quintin, in Picardy, of a respectable family, in the year 1713. His father was one of the many Protestants who, in consequence of the persecutions which followed the revocation of the edict of Nantz, sought an asylum in foreign countries. After a short stay in Holland, he settled, with his wife and children, in London, in 1715. Anthony Benezet having received from his father a liberal education, served an apprenticeship in an eminent mercantile house in London. In 1731, however, he removed with his family to Philadelphia, where he joined in profession with the Quakers. His three brothers then engaged in trade, and made considerable pecuniary acquisitions in it. He himself might have partaken both of their concerns and of their prosperity; but he did not feel himself at liberty to embark in their undertakings. He considered the accumulation of wealth as of no importance, when compared with the enjoyment of doing good; and he chose the humble situation of a schoolmaster, as according best with this notion, believing, that by endeavouring to train up youth in knowledge and virtue, he should become more extensively useful than in any other way to his fellow-creatures. He had not been long in his new situation, before he manifested such an uprightness of conduct, such a courtesy of manners, such a purity of intention, and such a spirit of benevolence, that he attracted the notice, and gained the good opinion, of the inhabitants among whom he lived. He had ready access to them, in consequence, upon all occasions; and, if there were any whom he failed to influence at any of these times, he never went away without the possession of their respect. In the year 1756, when a considerable number of French families were removed from Acadia into Pennsylvania, on account of some political suspicions, he felt deeply interested about them. In a country where few understood their language, they were wretched and helpless; but Anthony Benezet endeavoured to soften the rigour of their situation, by his kind attention towards them. He exerted himself, also, in their behalf, by procuring many contributions for them, which, by the consent of his fellow-citizens, were intrusted to his care. As the principle of benevolence, when duly cultivated, brings forth fresh shoots, and becomes enlarged, so we find this amiable person extending the sphere of his usefulness by becoming an advocate for the oppressed African race. For this service he seems to have been peculiarly qualified. Indeed, as in all great works, a variety of talents is necessary to bring them to perfection, so Providence seems to prepare different men as instruments, with dispositions and qualifications so various, that each, in pursuing that line which seems to suit him best, contributes to furnish those parts which, when put together, make up a complete whole. In this point of view, John Woolman found in Anthony Benezet the coadjutor whom, of all others, the cause required. The former had occupied himself principally on the subject of slavery. The latter went to the root of the evil, and more frequently attacked the trade. The former chiefly confined his labours to America, and chiefly to those of his own society there. The latter, when he wrote, did not write for America only, but for Europe also, and endeavoured to spread a knowledge and hatred of the traffic through the great society of the world. One of the means which Anthony Benezet took to promote the cause in question, (and an effectual one it proved, as far as it went,) was to give his scholars a due knowledge and proper impressions concerning it. Situated as they were likely to be in after-life, in a country where, slavery, was a custom, he thus prepared many, and this annually, for the promotion of his plans. To enlighten others, and to give them a similar bias, he had recourse to different measures from time to time. In the almanacs published annually in Philadelphia, he procured articles to be inserted, which he believed would attract the notice of the reader, and make him pause, at least for a while, as to the licitness of, the Slave Trade. He wrote also, as he saw occasion, in the public papers of the day. From small things he proceeded to greater. He collected, at length, further information on the subject, and, winding it up with observations and reflections, he produced several little tracts, which he circulated successively (but generally at his, own expense), as he considered them adapted to the temper and circumstances of the times. In the course of this his employment, having found some who had approved his tracts, and, to whom, on that account, he wished to write, and sending his tracts to others, to whom he thought it proper to introduce them by letter, he found himself engaged in a correspondence which much engrossed his time, but which proved of great importance in procuring many advocates for his cause. In the year 1762, when he had obtained a still greater store of information, he published a larger work. This, however, he entitle _A short Account of that part of Africa inhabited by the Negroes_ In 1767 he published _A Caution and Warning to Great Britain and her colonies on the calamitous state of the enslaved Negroes in the British Dominions_; and soon after this appeared, _An Historical Account of Guinea, its Situation, Produce, and the general Disposition of its Inhabitants: with an Inquiry into the Rise and Progress of the Slave Trade, its Nature, and Calamitous Effects._ This pamphlet contained a clear and distinct development of the subject, from the best authorities. It contained also, the sentiments of many enlightened upon it; and it became instrumental beyond any other book ever before published, in disseminating a proper knowledge and detestation of this trade. Anthony Benezet may be considered as one of the most zealous, vigilant, and active advocates which the cause of the oppressed Africans ever had. He seemed to have been born and to have lived for the promotion of it and therefore he never omitted any the least opportunity of serving it. If a person called upon him who was going a journey his first thoughts usually were how he could make him an instrument in its favour; he either gave him tracts to distribute or he sent letters by him, or he gave him some commission on the subject; so that he was the means of employing several persons at the same time, in various parts of America; in advancing the work he had undertaken. In the same manner he availed himself of every other circumstance, as far as he could, to the same end. When he heard that Mr. Granville Sharp had obtained; in the year 1772, the noble verdict in the cause of Somerset the slave, he opened a correspondence with him which he kept up, that there might be an union of action between them for the future, as far as it could be effected, and that they might each give encouragement to the other to proceed. He opened also a correspondence with George Whitfield and John Wesley that these might assist him in promoting the cause of the oppressed. He wrote also a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon on the following subject:--She had founded a college, at the recommendation of George Whitfield, called the Orphan-house near Savannah, in Georgia, and had endowed it. The object of this institution was to furnish scholastic instruction to the poor, and to prepare some of them for the ministry. George Whitfield, ever attentive to the cause of the poor Africans, thought that this institution might have been useful to them also; but soon after his death, they who succeeded him bought slaves, and these in unusual numbers to extend the rice and indigo plantations belonging to the college. The letter then in question was written by Anthony Benezet, in order to lay before the Countess, as a religious woman, the misery she was occasioning in Africa, by allowing the managers of her college in Georgia to give encouragement to the Slave Trade. The Countess replied, that such a measure should never have her countenance, and that she would take care to prevent it. On discovering that the Abbé Raynal had brought out his celebrated work, in which he manifested a tender feeling in behalf of the injured Africans, he entered into a correspondence with him, hoping to make him yet more useful to their cause. Finding, also, in the year 1783 that the Slave Trade, which had greatly declined during the American war, was reviving, he addressed a pathetic letter to our Queen, (as I mentioned in the last chapter,) who, on hearing the high character of the writer of it from Benjamin West, received it with marks of peculiar condescension and attention. The following is a copy of it:-- TO CHARLOTTE, QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN. Impressed with a sense of religious duty, and encouraged by the opinion generally entertained of thy benevolent disposition to succor the distressed, I take the liberty; very respectfully, to offer to thy perusal some tracts, which, I believe, faithfully describe the suffering condition of many hundred thousands of our fellow-creatures of the African race, great numbers of whom, rent from every tender connexion in life, are annually taken from their native land; to endure, in the American islands and plantations, a most rigorous and cruel slavery; whereby many, very many of them, are brought to a melancholy and untimely end. When it is considered that the inhabitants of Great Britain, who are themselves so eminently blessed in the enjoyment of religious and civil liberty, have long been, and yet are, very deeply concerned in this flagrant violation of the common rights of mankind, and that even its national authority is exerted in support of the African Slave Trade, there is much reason to apprehend that this has been, and, as long as the evil exists, will continue to be, an occasion of drawing down the Divine displeasure on the nation and its dependencies. May these considerations induce thee to interpose thy kind endeavours in behalf of this greatly injured people, whose abject situation gives them an additional claim to the pity and assistance of the generous mind, inasmuch as they are altogether deprived of the means of soliciting effectual relief for themselves; that so thou mayest not only be a blessed instrument in the hand of him 'by whom kings reign and princes decree justice,' to avert the awful judgments by which the empire has already been so remarkably shaken, but that the blessings of thousands ready to perish may come upon thee, at a time when the superior advantages attendant on thy situation in this world will no longer be of any avail to thy consolation and support. To the tracts on this subject to which I have thus ventured to crave thy particular attention, I have added some which at different times I have believed it my duty to publish[A], and which, I trust, will afford thee some satisfaction, their design being for the furtherance of that universal peace and good-will amongst men, which the Gospel was intended to introduce. [Footnote A: These related to the principles of the religious society of the Quakers.] "I hope thou wilt kindly excuse the freedom used on this occasion by an ancient man, whose mind, for more than forty years past, has been much separated from the common intercourse of the world, and long painfully exercised in the consideration of the miseries under which so large a part of mankind, equally with us the objects of redeeming love, are suffering the most unjust and grievous oppression, and who sincerely desires thy temporal and eternal felicity, and that of thy royal consort. "ANTHONY BENEZET." Anthony Benezet, besides the care he bestowed upon forwarding the cause of the oppressed Africans in different parts of the world, found time to promote the comforts, and improve the condition of those, in the state in which he lived. Apprehending that much advantage would arise both to them and the public from instructing them in common learning, he zealously promoted the establishment of a school for that purpose. Much of the two last years of his life he devoted to a personal attendance on this school, being earnestly desirous that they who came to it might be better qualified for the enjoyment of that freedom to which great numbers of them had been then restored. To this he sacrificed the superior emoluments of his former school, and his bodily ease also, although the weakness of his constitution seemed to demand indulgence. By his last will he directed, that, after the decease of his widow, his whole little fortune (the savings of the industry of fifty years) should, except a few very small legacies, be applied to the support of it. During his attendance upon it he had the happiness to find, (and his situation enabled him to make the comparison,) that Providence had been equally liberal to the Africans in genius and talents as to other people. After a few days' illness, this excellent man died at Philadelphia, in the spring of 1784. The interment of his remains was attended by several thousands of all ranks, professions, and parties, who united in deploring their loss. The mournful procession was closed by some hundreds of those poor Africans who had been personally benefited by his labours, and whose behaviour on the occasion showed the gratitude and affection they considered to be due to him as their own private benefactor, as well as the benefactor of their whole race. Such, then, were the labours of the Quakers in America; of individuals, from 1718 to 1784, and of the body at large, from 1696 to 1787, in this great cause of humanity and religion. Nor were the effects produced from these otherwise than corresponding with what might have been expected from such an union of exertion in such a cause; for both the evils, that is, the evil of buying and selling, and the evil of using slaves, ceased at length with the members of this benevolent society. The leaving off all concern with the Slave Trade took place first. The abolition of slavery, though it followed, was not so speedily accomplished; for, besides the loss of property, when slaves were manumitted, without any pecuniary consideration in return, their owners had to struggle, in making them free, against the laws and customs of the times. In Pennsylvania, where the law in this respect was the most favourable, the parties wishing to give freedom to a slave were obliged to enter into a bond for the payment of thirty pounds currency, in case the said slave should become chargeable for maintenance. In New Jersey the terms were far less favorable, as the estate of the owner remained liable to the consequences of misconduct in the slave, or even in his posterity. In the southern parts of America manumission was not permitted but on terms amounting nearly to a prohibition. But, notwithstanding these difficulties, the Quakers could not be deterred, as they became convinced of the unlawfulness of holding men in bondage, from doing that which they believed to be right. Many liberated their slaves, whatever the consequences were; and some gave the most splendid example in doing it, not only by consenting, as others did, thus to give up their property, and to incur the penalties of manumission, but by calculating and giving what was due to them, over and above their food and clothing, for wages[A] from the beginning of their slavery to the day when their liberation commenced. Thus manumission went on, some sacrificing more; and others less; some granting it sooner, and others later; till, in the year 1787[B] there was not a slave in the possession of an acknowledged Quaker. [Footnote A: One of the brightest instances was that afforded by Warner Mifflin. He gave unconditional liberty to his slaves. He paid all the adults, on their discharge, the sum, which arbitrators, mutually chosen, awarded them.] [Footnote B: Previously to the year 1787, several of the states had made the terms of manumission more easy.] Having given to the reader the history of the third class of forerunners and coadjutors, as it consisted of the Quakers in America, I am now to continue it, as it consisted of an union of these with others on the same continent, in the year 1774, in behalf of the African race. To do this, I shall begin with the causes which led to the production of this great event. And, in the first place, as example is more powerful than precept, we cannot suppose that the Quakers could have shown these noble instances of religious principle, without supposing also that individuals of other religious denominations would be morally instructed by them. They who lived in the neighborhood where they took place, must have become acquainted with the motives which led to them. Some of them must at least have praised the action, though they might not themselves have been ripe to follow the example: nor is it at all improbable that these might be led, in the course of the workings of their own minds, to a comparison between their own conduct and that of the Quakers on this subject, in which they themselves might appear to be less worthy in their own eyes. And as there is sometimes a spirit of rivalship among the individuals of religious sects, where the character of one is sounded forth as higher than that of another; this, if excited by such a circumstance, would probably operate for good. It must have been manifest also to many, after a lapse of time, that there was no danger in what the Quakers had done, and that there was even sound policy in the measure. But, whatever were the several causes, certain it is, that the example of the Quakers in leaving off all concern with the Slave Trade, and in liberating their slaves, (scattered, as they were, over various parts of America,) contributed to produce in many of a different religious denomination from themselves, a more tender disposition than had been usual towards the African race. But a similar disposition towards these oppressed people was created in others, by means of other circumstances or causes. In the early part of the eighteenth century, Judge Sewell of New England came forward as a zealous advocate for them: he addressed a memorial to the legislature, which he called, _The Selling of Joseph_, and in which he pleaded their cause both as a lawyer and, a Christian. This memorial produced an effect upon many, but particularly upon those of his own persuasion; and from this time the Presbyterians appear to have encouraged a sympathy in their favour. In the year 1739, the celebrated George Whitfield became an instrument in turning the attention of many others to their hard case, and of begetting in these a fellow sympathy towards them. This laborious minister, having been deeply affected with what he had seen in the course of his religious travels in America, thought it his duty, to address a letter from Georgia to the inhabitants of Maryland, Virginia, and North and South Carolina. This letter was printed in the year above mentioned, and is in part as follows:-- As I lately passed through your provinces in my way hither, I was sensibly touched with a fellow-feeling for the miseries of the poor negroes. Whether it be lawful for Christians to buy slaves, and thereby encourage the nations, from whom they are bought, to be at perpetual war with each other, I shall not take upon me to determine. Sure I am, it is sinful, when they have bought them to use them as bad as though they were brutes, nay, worse; and whatever particular exceptions there may be, (as I would charitably hope there are some,) I fear the generality of you who own negroes are liable to such a charge; for your slaves, I believe, work as hard, if not harder, than the horses whereon you ride. These, after they have done their work, are fed and taken proper care of; but many negroes when wearied with labour, in your plantations, have been obliged to grind their corn after their return home: your dogs are caressed and fondled at your table, but your slaves, who are frequently styled dogs or beasts, have not an equal privilege; they are scarce permitted to pick up the crumbs which fall from their master's table: not to mention what numbers have been given up to the inhuman usage of cruel taskmasters, who, by their unrelenting scourges have ploughed their backs and made long furrows, and at length brought them even unto death. When, passing along, I have viewed your plantations cleared and cultivated, many spacious houses built and the owners of them faring sumptuously every day, my blood has frequently almost run cold within me, to consider how many of your slaves had neither convenient food to eat, nor proper raiment to put on, notwithstanding most of the comforts you enjoy were solely owing to their indefatigable labours. The letter, from which this is an extract, produced a desirable effect upon many of those who perused it, but particularly upon such as began to be seriously disposed in these times. And as George Whitfield continued a firm friend to the poor Africans, never losing an opportunity of serving them, he interested, in the course of his useful life, many thousands of his followers in their favour. To this account it may be added, that from the year 1762 ministers, who were in the connection of John Wesley, began to be settled in America, and that as these were friends to the oppressed Africans also, so they contributed in their turn[A] to promote a softness of feeling towards them among those of their own persuasion. [Footnote A: It must not be forgotten, that the example of the Moravians had its influence also in directing men to their duty towards these oppressed people; for though, when they visited this part of the world for their conversion, they never meddled with the political state of things, by recommending it to masters to alter the condition of their slaves, as believing religion could give comfort in the most abject situations in life, yet they uniformly freed those slaves who came into their own possession.] In consequence then of these and other causes, a considerable number of persons of various religious denominations, had appeared at different times in America, besides the Quakers, who, though they had not distinguished themselves by resolutions and manumissions as religious bodies, were yet highly friendly to the African cause. This friendly disposition began to manifest itself about the year 1770; for when a few Quakers, as individuals, began at that time to form little associations in the middle provinces of North America, to discourage the introduction of slaves among people in their own neighbourhoods, who were not of their own Society, and to encourage the manumission of those already in bondage, they, were joined as colleagues by several persons of this description[A], who co-operated with them in the promotion of their design. [Footnote A: It then appeared that individuals among those of the Church of England, Roman Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, and others had begun in a few instances to liberate their slaves.] This disposition, however, became more manifest in the year 1772; for the house of burgesses of Virginia presented a petition to the king, beseeching his majesty to remove all those restraints on his governors of that colony, which inhibited their assent to such laws as might check that inhuman and impolitic commerce, the Slave Trade: and it is remarkable, that the refusal of the British government to permit the Virginians to exclude slaves from among them by law, was enumerated afterwards among the public reasons for separating from the mother country. But this friendly disposition was greatly increased in the year 1773, by the literary labours of Dr. Benjamin Rush, of Philadelphia[B], who, I believe, is a member of the Presbyterian Church: for in this year, at the instigation of Anthony Benezet, he took up the cause of the oppressed Africans in a little work, which he entitled, _An Address to the Inhabitants of the British Settlements, on the Slavery of the Negroes_; and soon afterwards in another, which was a vindication of the first, in answer to an acrimonious attach by a West Indian planter. These publications contained many new observations; they were written in a polished style; and while they exhibited the erudition and talents, they showed the liberality and benevolence of the author. Having had a considerable circulation, they spread conviction among many, and promoted the cause for which they had been so laudably undertaken. Of the great increase of friendly disposition towards the African cause in this very year, we have this remarkable proof: that when the Quakers, living in East and West Jersey, wished to petition the legislature to obtain an act of assembly for the more equitable manumission of slaves in that province, so many others of different persuasions joined them, that the petition was signed by upwards of three thousand persons. [Footnote B: Dr. Rush has been better known since for his other literary works, such as his _Medical Dissertations_, his _Treatises on the Discipline of Schools_, _Criminal Law_, &c.] But in the next year, or in the year 1774[A], the increased good-will towards the Africans became so apparent, but more particularly in Pennsylvania, where the Quakers were more numerous than in any other state, that they, who considered themselves more immediately as the friends of these injured people, thought it right to avail themselves of it: and accordingly James Pemberton, one of the most conspicuous of the Quakers in Pennsylvania, and Dr. Rush, one of the most conspicuous of those belonging to the various other religious communities in that province, undertook, in conjunction with others, the important task of bringing those into a society who were friendly to this cause. In this undertaking they succeeded. And hence arose that union of the Quakers with others, to which I have been directing the attention of the reader, and by which the third class of forerunners and coadjutors becomes now complete. This society, which was confined to Pennsylvania, was the first ever formed in America, in which there was an union of persons of different religious denominations in behalf of the African race. [Footnote A: In this year, Elhanan Winchester, a supporter of the doctrine of universal redemption, turned the attention of many of his hearers to this subject, both by private interference, and by preaching expressly upon it.] But this society had scarcely begun to act, when the war broke out between England and America, which had the effect of checking its operations. This was considered as a severe blow upon it. But as those things which appear most to our disadvantage, turn out often the most to our benefit, so the war, by giving birth to the independence of America, was ultimately favourable to its progress. For as this contrast had produced during its continuance, so it left, when it was over, a general enthusiasm for liberty. Many talked of little else but of the freedom they had gained. These were naturally led to the consideration of those among them who were groaning in bondage. They began to feel for their hard case. They began to think that they should not deserve the new blessing which they had acquired if they denied it to others. Thus the discussions, which originated in this contest, became the occasion of turning the attention of many, who might not otherwise have thought of it, towards the miserable condition of the slaves. Nor were writers wanting, who, influenced by considerations on the war, and the independence resulting from it, made their works subservient to the same benevolent end. A work, entitled _A Serious Address to the Rulers of America on the Inconsistency of their Conduct respecting Slavery, forming a Contrast between the Encroachments of England on American Liberty and American Injustice in tolerating Slavery_; which appeared in 1783, was particularly instrumental in producing this effect. This excited a more than usual attention to the case of these oppressed people, and where most of all it could be useful; for the author compared in two opposite columns the animated speeches and resolutions of the members of congress in behalf of their own liberty with their conduct in continuing slavery to others. Hence the legislature began to feel the inconsistency of the practice; and so far had the sense of this inconsistency spread there, that when the delegates met from each state to consider of a federal union, there was a desire that the abolition of the Slave Trade should be one of the articles in it. This was, however, opposed by the delegates from North and South Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, and Georgia, the five states which had the greatest concern in slaves. But even these offered to agree to the article, provided a condition was annexed to it, (which was afterwards done,) that the power of such abolition should not commence in the legislature till the 1st of January, 1808. In consequence then of these different circumstances, the Society of Pennsylvania, the object of which was "for promoting the abolition of slavery and the relief of free negroes unlawfully held in bondage," became so popular, that in the year 1787 it was thought desirable to enlarge it. Accordingly several new members were admitted into it. The celebrated Dr. Franklin, who had long warmly espoused the cause of the injured Africans, was appointed president; James Pemberton and Jonathan Penrose were appointed vice-presidents; Dr. Benjamin Rush and Tench Coxe, secretaries; James Star, treasurer; William Lewis, John D. Coxe, Miers Fisher, and William Rawle, counsellors; Thomas Harrison, Nathan Boys, James Whiteall, James Reed, John Todd, Thomas Armatt, Norris Jones, Samuel Richards, Francis Bayley, Andrew Carson, John Warner, and Jacob Shoemaker, junior, an electing committee; and Thomas Shields, Thomas Parker, John Oldden, William Zane, John Warner, and William McElhenny, an acting committee for carrying on the purposes of the institution. I shall now only observe further upon this subject, that as a society, consisting of an union of the Quakers, with others of other religious denominations, was established for Pennsylvania in behalf of the oppressed Africans; so different societies, consisting each of a similar union of persons, were established in New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, and other states for the same object, and that these afterwards held a correspondence and personal communion with each other for the promotion of it. CHAPTER VI. Observations on the three classes already introduced.--Coincidence of extraordinary circumstances.--Individuals in each of these classes, who seem to have had an education as it were to qualify them for promoting the cause of the abolition; Sharp and Ramsay in the first; Dillwyn in the second; Pemberton and Rush in the third.--These, with their respective classes, acted on motives of their own, and independently of each other; and yet, from circumstances neither foreseen nor known by them, they were in the way of being easily united in 1787.--William Dillwyn, the great medium of connexion between them all. If the reader will refer to his recollection, he will find that I have given the history of three of the classes of the forerunners and coadjutors in the great cause of the abolition of the Slave Trade up to the time proposed. He will of course expect that I should proceed with the history of the fourth. But, as I foresee that, by making certain observations upon the classes already introduced in the present, rather than in any future, place, I shall be able to give him clearer views on the subject, I shall postpone the history of the remaining class to the next chapter. The account which I shall now give, will exhibit a concurrence of extraordinary and important circumstances. It will show, first, that in each of the three classes now introduced, there were individuals, in the year 1787, who had been educated as it were for the purpose of becoming peculiarly qualified to act together for the promotion of the abolition of the Slave Trade. It will show, secondly, that these, with their respective classes, acted upon their own principles, distinctly and independently of each other. And lastly, that by means of circumstances, which they themselves had neither foreseen nor contrived, a junction between them was rendered easily practicable, and that it was beginning to take place at the period assigned. The first class of forerunners and coadjutors consisted principally, as it has appeared, of persons in England of various descriptions. These, I may observe, had no communication with each other as to any plan for the abolition of the Slave Trade. There were two individuals, however, among them who were more conspicuous than the rest, namely, Granville Sharp, the first labourer, and Mr. Ramsay, the first controversial writer, in the cause. That Granville Sharp received an education as if to become qualified to unite with others, in the year 1787, for this important object, must have, appeared from the history of his labours, as detailed in several of the preceding pages. The same may be said of Mr. Ramsay; for it has already appeared that he lived in the island of St. Christopher, where he made his observations, and studied the laws, relative to the treatment of slaves, for nineteen years. That Granville Sharp acted on grounds distinct from those in any of the other classes is certain. For he knew nothing at this time either of the Quakers in England or of those in America, any more than that they existed by name. Had it not been for the case of Jonathan Strong, he might never have attached himself to the cause. A similar account may be given of Mr. Ramsay; for, if it had not been for what he had seen in the island of St. Christopher, he had never embarked in it. It was from scenes, which he had witnessed there, that he began to feel on the subject. These feelings he communicated to others on his return to England, and these urged him into action. With respect to the second class, the reader will recollect that it consisted of the Quakers in England: first, of George Fox; then of the Quakers as a body; then of individuals belonging to that body, who formed themselves into a committee, independently of it, for the promotion of the object in question. This committee, it may he remembered, consisted of six persons, of whom one was William Dillwyn. That William Dillwyn became fitted for the station, which he was afterwards to take, will be seen shortly. He was born in America, and was a pupil of the venerable Benezet, who took pains very early to interest his feelings on this great subject. Benezet employed him occasionally, I mean in a friendly manner, as his amanuensis, to copy his manuscripts for publication, as well as several of his letters written in behalf of the cause. This gave his scholar an insight into the subject; who, living besides in the land where both the Slave Trade and slavery were established, obtained an additional knowledge of them, so as to be able to refute many of those objections, to which others, for want of local observation, could never have replied. In the year 1772, Anthony Benezet introduced William Dillwyn by letter to several of the principal people of Carolina, with whom he had himself corresponded on the sufferings of the poor Africans, and desired him to have interviews with them on the subject. He charged him also to be very particular in making observations as to what he should see there. This journey was of great use to the latter, in fixing him as the friend of these oppressed people; for he saw so much of their cruel treatment in the course of it, that he felt an anxiety ever afterwards, amounting to a duty, to do every thing in his power for their relief. In the year 1773, William Dillwyn, in conjunction with Richard Smith and Daniel Wells, two of his own society, wrote a pamphlet in answer to arguments then prevailing, that the manumission of slaves would be injurious. This pamphlet--which was entitled, _Brief Considerations on Slavery, and the Expediency of its Abolition; with some Hints on the Means whereby it may be gradually effected_,--proved that in lieu of the usual security required, certain sums paid at the several periods of manumission would amply secure the public, as well as the owners of the slaves, from any future burdens. In the same year also, when the society, joined by several hundreds of others in New Jersey, presented a petition to the legislature, (as mentioned in the former chapter,) to obtain an act of assembly for the more equitable manumission of slaves in that province, William Dillwyn was one of a deputation, which was heard at the bar of the assembly for that purpose. In 1774, he came to England, but his attention was still kept alive to the subject; for he was the person by whom Anthony Benezet sent his letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, as before related. He was also the person to whom the same venerable defender of the African race sent his letter, before spoken of, to be forwarded to the Queen. That William Dillwyn, and those of his own class in England, acted upon motives very distinct from those of the former class, may be said with truth; for they acted upon the constitutional principles of their own society, as incorporated into its discipline: which principles would always have incited them to the subversion of slavery, as far as they themselves were concerned, whether any other person had abolished it or not. To which it may be added, as a further proof of the originality of their motives, that the Quakers have had, ever since their institution as a religious body, but little intercourse with the world. The third class, to which I now come, consisted, as we have seen, first of the Quakers in America; and secondly, of an union, of these with others on the same continent. The principal individuals concerned in this union were James Pemberton and Dr. Rush. The former of these, having taken an active part in several of the yearly meetings of his own society relative to the oppressed Africans, and having been in habits of intimacy and friendship with John Woolman and Anthony Benezet, with the result of whose labours he was acquainted, may be supposed to have become qualified to take a leading station in the promotion of their cause. Dr. Rush also had shown himself, as has appeared, an able advocate, and had even sustained a controversy in their favour. That the two last mentioned acted also on motives of their own, or independently of those belonging to the other two classes, when they formed their association in Pennsylvania, will be obvious from these circumstances; first, that most of those of the first class, who contributed to throw the greatest light and odium upon the Slave Trade, had not then made their public appearance in the world. And, with respect to the second class, the little committee belonging to it had neither been formed nor thought of. And as the individuals in each of the three classes, who have now been mentioned, had an education as it were to qualify them for acting together in this great cause, and had moved independently of each other; so it will appear that, by means of circumstances, which they themselves had neither foreseen nor contrived, a junction between them was rendered easily practicable, and that it was beginning to take place at the period assigned. To show this, I must first remind the reader, that Anthony Benezet, as soon as he heard of the result of the case of Somerset, opened a correspondence with Granville Sharp, which was kept up to the encouragement of both. In the year 1774, when he learned that William Dillwyn was going to England, he gave him letters to that gentleman. Thus one of the most conspicuous of the second class was introduced, accidentally as it were, to one of the most conspicuous of the first. In the year 1775, William Dillwyn went back to America, but, on his return to England to settle, he renewed his visits to Granville Sharp. Thus the connexion was continued. To these observations I may now add, that Samuel Hoare, of the same class as William Dillwyn, had, in consequence of the Bishop of Chester's sermon, begun a correspondence in 1784, as before mentioned, with Mr. Ramsay, who was of the same class as Mr. Sharp. Thus four individuals of the two first classes were in the way of an union with one another. But circumstances equally natural contributed to render an union between the members of the second and the third classes easily practicable also. For what was more natural than that William Dillwyn, who was born and who had resided long in America, should have connexions there? He had long cultivated a friendship (not then knowing to what it would lead) with James Pemberton. His intimacy with him was like that of a family connexion. They corresponded together; they corresponded also as kindred hearts, relative to the Slave Trade. Thus two members of the second and third classes had opened an intercourse on the subject and thus was William Dillwyn the great medium, through whom the members of the two classes now mentioned, as well as the members of all the three, might be easily united also, if a fit occasion should offer. CHAPTER VII. Fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to 1787.--Dr. Peckard, vice-chancellor of the University of Cambridge, the first of these; gives out the Slave Trade as the subject for one of the annual prizes.--Author writes and obtains the first of these; reads his Dissertation in the Senate-house in the summer of 1785; his feelings on the subject during his return home; is desirous of aiding the cause of the Africans, but sees great difficulties; determines to publish his prize essay for this purpose; is accidentally thrown into the way of James Phillips, who introduces him to W. Dillwyn, the connecting medium of the three classes before mentioned; and to G. Sharp and Mr. Ramsay, and to R. Phillips. I proceed now to the fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to the year 1787 in the great cause of the abolition of the Slave Trade. The first of these was Dr. Peckard. This gentleman had distinguished himself in the earlier part of his life by certain publications on the intermediate state of the soul, and by others in favour of civil and religious liberty. To the latter cause he was a warm friend, seldom omitting any opportunity of declaring his sentiments in its favour. In the course of his preferment he was appointed by Sir John Griffin, afterwards Lord Howard of Walden, to the mastership of Magdalen College in the University of Cambridge. In this high office he considered it to be his duty to support those doctrines which he had espoused when in an inferior station; and accordingly, when in the year 1784 it devolved upon him to preach a sermon, before the University of Cambridge, he chose his favourite subject: in the handling of which he took an opportunity of speaking of the Slave Trade in the following nervous manner:-- "Now, whether we consider the crime with respect to the individuals concerned in this most barbarous and cruel traffic, or whether we consider it as patronized and encouraged by the laws of the land, it presents to our view an equal degree of enormity. A crime, founded on a dreadful pre-eminence in wickedness--a crime, which being both of individuals and the nation, must sometime draw down upon us the heaviest judgment of Almighty God, who made of one blood all the sons of men, and who gave to all equally a natural right to liberty; and who, ruling all the kingdoms of the earth with equal providential justice, cannot suffer such deliberate, such monstrous iniquity, to pass long unpunished." But Dr. Peckard did not consider this delivery of his testimony, though it was given before a learned and religious body, as a sufficient discharge of his duty, while any opportunity remained of renewing it with effect. And, as such an one offered in the year 1785, when he was vice-chancellor of the University, he embraced it. In consequence of his office, it devolved upon him to give out two subjects for Latin dissertations, one to the middle bachelors, and the other to the senior bachelors of arts. They who produced the best were to obtain the prizes. To the latter he proposed the following: _Anne liceat Invitos in Servitutem dare?_ or, _Is it right to make slaves of others against their will?_ This circumstance of giving out subjects for the prizes, though only an ordinary measure, became the occasion of my own labours, or of the real honour which I feel in being able to consider myself as the next coadjutor of this class in the cause of the injured Africans. For it happened in this year that, being of the order of senior bachelors, I became qualified to write. I had gained a prize for the best Latin dissertation in the former year, and, therefore, it was expected that I should obtain one in the present, or I should be considered as having lost my reputation both in the eyes of the University and of my own College. It had happened also, that I had been honoured with the first of the prizes[A], in that year, and therefore it was expected again, that I should obtain the first on this occasion. The acquisition of the second, however honourable, would have been considered as a falling off, or as a loss of former fame. I felt myself, therefore, particularly called upon to maintain my post. And, with feelings of this kind, I began to prepare myself for the question. [Footnote A: There are two prizes on each subject, one for the best and the other for the second-best essays.] In studying the thesis, I conceived it to point directly to the African Slave Trade, and more particularly as I knew that Dr. Peckard, in the sermon which I have mentioned, had pronounced so warmly against it. At any rate, I determined to give it this construction. But, alas! I was wholly ignorant of this subject; and, what was unfortunate, a few weeks only were allowed for the composition. I was determined, however, to make the best use of my time. I got access to the manuscript papers of a deceased friend, who had been in the trade. I was acquainted also with several officers who had been in the West Indies, and from these I gained something. But I still felt myself at a loss for materials, and I did not know where to get them; when going by accident into a friend's house, I took up a newspaper then lying on his table. One of the articles which attracted my notice, was an advertisement of ANTHONY BENEZET'S _Historical Account of Guinea_. I soon left my friend and his paper, and, to lose no time, hastened to London to buy it. In this precious book I found almost all I wanted. I obtained, by means of it, a knowledge of, and access to, the great authorities of Adanson, Moore, Barbot, Smith, Bosman, and others. It was of great consequence to know what these persons had said upon this subject. For, having been themselves either long resident in Africa, or very frequently there, their knowledge of it could not be questioned. Having been concerned also in the trade, it was not likely that they would criminate themselves more than they could avoid. Writing too at a time when the abolition was not even thought of, they could not have been biassed with any view to that event. And, lastly, having been dead many years, they could not have been influenced, as living evidences may be supposed to have been, either to conceal or exaggerate, as their own interest might lead them, either by being concerned in the continuance of the trade, or by supporting the opinions of those of their patrons in power, who were on the different sides of this question. Furnished then in this manner, I began my work. But no person can tell the severe trial which the writing of it proved to me. I had expected pleasure from the invention of the arguments, from the arrangement of them, from the putting of them together, and from the thought in the interim that I was engaged in an innocent contest for literary honour. But, all my pleasure was damped by the facts which were now continually before me. It was but one gloomy subject from morning to night. In the day-time I was uneasy. In the night I had little rest. I sometimes never closed my eye-lids for grief. It became now not so much a trial for academical reputation, as for the production of a work, which might be useful to injured Africa. And keeping this idea in my mind ever after the perusal of Benezet, I always slept with a candle in my room, that I might rise out of my bed and put down such thoughts as might occur to me in the night, if I judged them valuable, conceiving that no arguments of any moment should be lost in so great a cause. Having at length finished this painful task, I sent my Essay to the vice-chancellor, and soon afterwards found myself honoured as before with the first prize. As it is usual to read these Essays publicly in the senate-house soon after the prize is adjudged, I was called to Cambridge for this purpose. I went and performed my office. On returning however to London, the subject of it almost wholly engrossed my thoughts. I became at times very seriously affected while upon the road. I stopped my horse occasionally, and dismounted and walked. I frequently tried to persuade myself in these intervals that the contents of my Essay could not be true. The more, however, I reflected upon them, or rather upon the authorities on which they were founded, the more I gave them credit. Coming in sight of Wades Mill, in Hertfordshire, I sat down disconsolate on the turf by the roadside and held my horse. Here a thought came into my mind, that if the contents of the Essay were true, it was time some person should see these calamities to their end. Agitated in this manner, I reached home. This was in the summer of 1785. In the course of the autumn of the same year I experienced similar impressions. I walked frequently into the woods, that I might think on the subject in solitude, and find relief to my mind there. But there the question still recurred, "Are these things true?" Still the answer followed as instantaneously "They are." Still the result accompanied it, "Then surely some person should interfere." I then began to envy those who had seats in parliament, and who had great riches, and widely extended connexions, which would enable them to take up this cause. Finding scarcely any one at that time who thought of it, I was turned frequently to myself. But here many difficulties arose. It struck me, among others, that a young man of only twenty-four years of age could not have that solid judgment or knowledge of men, manners, and things, which were requisite to qualify him to undertake a task of such magnitude and importance;--and with whom was I to unite? I believed also, that it looked so much like one of the feigned labours of Hercules, that my understanding would be suspected if I proposed it. On ruminating, however, on the subject, I found one thing at least practicable, and that this also was in my power. I could translate my Latin dissertation. I could enlarge it usefully. I could see how the public received it, or how far they were likely to favour any serious measures, which should have a tendency to produce the abolition of the Slave Trade. Upon this then I determined; and in the middle of the month of November 1785, I began my work. By the middle of January, I had finished half of it, though I had made considerable additions. I now thought of engaging with some bookseller to print it when finished. For this purpose I called upon Mr. Cadell, in the Strand, and consulted him about it. He said that as the original essay had been honoured by the University of Cambridge with the first prize, this circumstance would insure it a respectable circulation among persons of taste. I own I was not much pleased with his opinion. I wished the essay to find its way among useful people, and among such as would act and think with me. Accordingly I left Mr. Cadell, after having thanked him for his civility, and determined, as I thought I had time sufficient before dinner, to call upon a friend in the city. In going past the Royal Exchange, Mr. Joseph Hancock, one of the religious society of the Quakers, and with whose family my own had been long united in friendship, suddenly met me. He first accosted me by saying that I was the person whom he was wishing to see. He then asked me why I had not published my prize essay. I asked him in return what had made him think of that subject in particular. He replied that his own society had long taken it up as a religious body, and individuals among them were wishing to find me out. I asked him who. He answered, James Phillips, a bookseller, in Georgeyard, Lombard-street, and William Dillwyn, of Walthamstow, and others. Having but little time to spare, I desired him to introduce me to one of them. In a few minutes he took me to James Phillips, who was then the only one of them in town; by whose conversation I was so much interested and encouraged, that without any further hesitation I offered him the publication of my work. This accidental introduction of me to James Phillips was, I found afterwards, a most happy circumstance for the promotion of the cause which I had then so deeply at heart, as it led me to the knowledge of several of those, who became afterwards material coadjutors in it. It was also of great importance to me with respect to the work itself: for he possessed an acute penetration, a solid judgment, and a literary knowledge, which he proved by the many alterations and additions he proposed; and which I believe I uniformly adopted, after mature consideration, from a sense of their real value. It was advantageous to me also, inasmuch as it led me to his friendship, which was never interrupted but by his death. On my second visit to James Phillips, at which time I brought him about half my manuscript for the press, I desired him to introduce me to William Dillwyn, as he also had mentioned him to me on my first visit, and as I had not seen Mr. Hancock since. Matters were accordingly arranged, and a day appointed before I left him. On this day I had my first interview with my new friend. Two or three others of his own religious society were present, but who they were, I do not now recollect. There seemed to be a great desire among them to know the motive, by which I had been actuated in contending for the prize. I told them frankly that I had no motive but that which, other young men in the University had on such occasions; namely, the wish of being distinguished, or of obtaining literary honour; but that I had felt so deeply on the subject of it, that I had lately interested myself in it from a motive of duty. My conduct seemed to be highly approved by those present, and much conversation ensued, but it was of a general nature. As William Dillwyn wished very much to see me at his house at Walthamstow, I appointed the 13th of March to spend the day with them there. We talked for the most part, during my stay, on the subject of my essay. I soon discovered the treasure I had met with in his local knowledge, both of the Slave Trade and of slavery, as they existed in the United States; and I gained from him several facts, which, with his permission, I afterwards inserted in my work. But how surprised was I to hear, in the course of our conversation, of the labours of Granville Sharp, of the writings of Ramsay, and of the controversy in which the latter was engaged, of all which I had hitherto known nothing! How surprised was I to learn that William Dillwyn himself had, two years before, associated himself with five others for the purpose of enlightening the public mind upon this great subject! How astonished was I to find that a society had been formed in America for the same object, with some of the principal members of which he was intimately acquainted! And how still more astonished at the inference which instantly rushed upon my mind, that he was capable of being made the great medium of connexion between them all. These thoughts almost overpowered me. I believe that after this I talked but little more to my friend. My mind was overwhelmed with the thought that I had been providentially directed to his house; that the finger of Providence was beginning to be discernible; that the day-star of African liberty was rising, and that probably I might be permitted to become an humble instrument in promoting it. In the course of attending to my work, as now in the press, James Phillips introduced me also to Granville Sharp, with whom I had afterwards many interesting interviews from time to time, and whom I discovered to be a distant relation by my father's side. He introduced me also by letter to a correspondence with Mr. Ramsay, who in a short time afterwards came to London to see me. He introduced me also to his cousin, Richard Phillips, of Lincoln's Inn, who was at that time, on the point of joining the religious society of Quakers. In him I found much sympathy, and a willingness to co-operate with me. When dull and disconsolate, he encouraged me. When in spirits, he stimulated me further. Him I am now to mention as a new, but soon afterwards as an active and indefatigable, coadjutor in the cause. But I shall say more concerning him in a future chapter. I shall only now add that my work was at length printed; that it was entitled _An Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, particularly the African, translated from a Latin Dissertation, which was honoured with the first Prize in the University of Cambridge, for the year 1785; with Additions_; and that it was ushered into the world in the month of June, 1786, or in about a year after it had been read in the Senate-house in its first form. CHAPTER VIII. Continuation of the fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to 1787; Bennet Langton; Dr. Baker; Lord and Lady Scarsdale.--Author visits Ramsay at Teston.--Lady Middleton and Sir Charles (afterward Lord Barham).--Author declares himself at the house of the latter ready now to devote himself to the cause; reconsiders this declaration or pledge; his reasoning and struggle upon it; persists in it; returns to London; and pursues the work as now a business of his life. I had purposed, as I said before, when I determined to publish my essay, to wait to see how the world would receive it, or what disposition there would be in the public to favour my measures for the abolition of the Slave Trade. But the conversation which I had held on the 13th of March with William Dillwyn, continued to make such an impression upon me, that I thought now there could be no occasion for waiting for such a purpose. It seemed now only necessary to go forward. Others I found had already begun the work. I had been thrown suddenly among these, as into a new world of friends. I believed, also, that a way was opening under Providence for support; and I now thought that nothing remained for me but to procure as many coadjutors as I could. I had long had the honour of the friendship of Mr. Bennet Langton, and I determined to carry him one of my books, and to interest his feelings in it, with a view of procuring his assistance in the cause. Mr. Langton was a gentleman of an ancient family and respectable fortune in Lincolnshire, but resided then in Queen Square, Westminster. He was known as the friend of Dr. Johnson, Jonas Hanway, Edmund Burke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and others. Among his acquaintance, indeed, were most of the literary, and eminent professional, and public-spirited men of the times. At court, also, he was well known, and had the esteem of his majesty (George III.), with whom he frequently conversed. His friends were numerous also, in both houses of the legislature. As to himself, he was much noted for his learning, but most of all for the great example he gave, with respect to the usefulness and integrity of his life. By introducing my work to the sanction of a friend of such high character and extensive connexions, I thought I should be doing great things. And so the event proved. For when I went to him after he had read it, I found that it had made a deep impression upon his mind. As a friend to humanity, he lamented over the miseries of the oppressed Africans; and over the crimes of their tyrants, as a friend to morality and religion. He cautioned me, however, against being too sanguine in my expectations, as so many thousands were interested in continuing the trade. Justice, however, which he said weighed with him beyond all private or political interest, demanded a public inquiry, and he would assist me to the utmost of his power in my attempts towards it. From this time he became a zealous and active coadjutor in the cause, and continued so to the end of his valuable life. The next person, to whom I gave my work with a like view, was Dr. Baker, a clergyman of the Establishment, and with whom I had been in habits of intimacy for some time. Dr. Baker was a learned and pious man. He had performed the duties of his profession, from the time of his initiation into the church, in an exemplary manner; not only by paying a proper attention to the customary services, but by the frequent visitation of the sick and the instruction of the poor. This he had done, too, to admiration in a particularly extensive parish. At the time I knew him, he had May-Fair Chapel, of which an unusual portion of the congregation consisted then of persons of rank and fortune. With most of these he had a personal acquaintance. This was of great importance to me in the promotion of my views. Having left him my book for a month, I called upon him. The result was that which I expected from so good a man. He, did not wait for me to ask him for his co-operation, but he offered his services in any way which I might think most eligible; feeling it his duty, as he expressed it, to become an instrument in exposing such a complication of guilt and misery to the world. Dr. Baker became from this time an active coadjutor also, and continued so to his death. The person to whom I sent my work next, was the late Lord Scarsdale, whose family I had known for about two years. Both he and his lady read it with attention. They informed me, after the perusal of it, that both of them were desirous of assisting me in promoting the cause of the poor Africans. Lady Scarsdale lamented that she might possibly offend near and dear connexions, who had interests in, the West Indies, by so doing; but that, conscious of no intention to offend these, and considering the duties of religion to be the first to be attended to, she should be pleased to become useful in so good a cause. Lord Scarsdale also assured me, that, if the subject should ever come before the House of Lords, it should have his constant support. While attempting to make friends in this manner, I received a letter from Mr. Ramsay, with an invitation to spend a month at his house at Teston, near Maidstone, in Kent. This I accepted, that I might communicate to him the progress I had made, that I might gain more knowledge from him on the subject, and that I might acquire new strength and encouragement to proceed. On hearing my account of my proceedings, which I detailed to him on the first evening of our meeting, he seemed almost overpowered with joy. He said he had been long of opinion that the release of the Africans from the scourges of this cruel trade was within the determined views of Providence, and that by turning the public attention to their misery, we should be the instruments of beginning the good work. He then informed me how long he himself had had their cause at heart; that communicating his feelings to Sir Charles Middleton (afterwards Lord Barham) and his lady, the latter had urged him to undertake a work in their behalf; that her importunities were great respecting it; and that he had on this account, and in obedience also to his own feelings, as has been before mentioned, begun it; but that, foreseeing the censure and abuse which such a subject, treated in any possible manner, must bring upon the author, he had laid it aside for some time. He had, however, resumed it at the solicitation of Dr. Porteus, then Bishop of Chester; after which, in the year 1784, it made its appearance in the world. I was delighted with this account on the first evening of my arrival; but more particularly, as I collected from it that I might expect in the Bishop of Chester and Sir Charles Middleton two new friends to the cause. This expectation was afterwards fully realized, as the reader will see in its proper place. But I was still more delighted, when I was informed that Sir Charles and Lady Middleton, with Mrs. Bouverie, lived at Teston Hall, in a park which was but a few yards from the house in which I then was. In the morning I desired an introduction to them, which accordingly took place, and I found myself much encouraged and supported by this visit. It is not necessary, nor indeed is there room, to detail my employments in this village, or the lonely walks I took there, or the meditations of my mind at such seasons. I will therefore come at once to a particular occurrence. When at dinner one day with the family at Teston Hall, I was much pleased with the turn which the conversation had taken on the subject, and in the joy of my heart I exclaimed, that "I was ready to devote myself to the cause." This brought great commendation from those present; and Sir Charles Middleton added, that if I wanted any information in the course of my future inquiries relative to Africa, which he could procure me as comptroller of the navy, such as extracts from the journals of the ships of war to that continent, or from other papers, I should have free access to his office. This offer I received with thankfulness, and it operated as a new encouragement to me to proceed. The next morning, when I awoke, one of the first things that struck me was, that I had given a pledge to the company the day before that I would devote myself to the cause of the oppressed Africans. I became a little uneasy at this. I questioned whether I had considered matters sufficiently to be able to go so far with propriety. I determined therefore to give the subject a full consideration, and accordingly I walked to the place of my usual meditations,--the woods. Having now reached a place of solitude, I began to balance everything on both sides of the question. I considered first, that I had not yet obtained information sufficient on the subject to qualify me for the undertaking of such a work. But I reflected, on the other hand, that Sir Charles Middleton had just opened to me a new source of knowledge; that I should be backed by the local information of Dillwyn and Ramsay; and that surely, by taking pains, I could acquire more. I then considered that I had not yet a sufficient number of friends to support me. This occasioned me to review them. I had now Sir Charles Middleton, who was in the House of Commons. I was sure of Dr. Porteus, who was in the House of Lords. I could count upon Lord Scarsdale, who was a peer also. I had secured Mr. Langton, who had a most extensive acquaintance with members of both houses of the legislature. I had also secured Dr. Baker, who had similar connexions. I could depend upon Granville Sharp, James Phillips, Richard Phillips, Ramsay, Dillwyn, and the little committee to which he belonged, as well as the whole society of the Quakers. I thought, therefore, upon the whole, that, considering the short time I had been at work, I was well off with respect to support. I believed, also, that there were still several of my own acquaintance whom I could interest in the question, and I did not doubt that, by exerting myself diligently, persons, who were then strangers to me, would be raised up in time. I considered next, that it was impossible for a great cause like this to be forwarded without large pecuniary funds. I questioned whether some thousand pounds would not be necessary, and from whence was such a sum to come! In answer to this, I persuaded myself that generous people would be found who would unite with me in contributing their mite towards the undertaking, and I seemed confident that, as the Quakers had taken up the cause as a religious body, they would not be behind-hand in supporting it. I considered lastly, that if I took up the question, I must devote myself wholly to it. I was sensible that a little labour now and then would be inadequate to the purpose, or that, where the interests of so many thousand persons were likely to be affected, constant exertion would be necessary. I felt certain that if ever the matter were to be taken up, there could be no hope of success, except it should be taken up by some one who would make it an object or business of his life. I thought too that a man's life might not be more than adequate to the accomplishment of the end. But I knew of no one who could devote such a portion of time to it. Sir Charles Middleton, though he was so warm and zealous, was greatly occupied in the discharge of his office. Mr. Langton spent a great portion of his time in the education of his children. Dr. Baker had a great deal to do in the performance of his parochial duty. The Quakers were almost all of them in trade. I could look therefore to no person but myself; and the question was, whether I was prepared to make the sacrifice. In favour of the undertaking, I urged to myself, that never was any cause, which had been taken up by man in any country or in any age, so great and important; that never was there one in which so much misery was heard to cry for redress; that never was there one in which so much good could be done; never one in which the duty of Christian charity could be so extensively exercised; never one more worthy of the devotion of a whole life towards it; and that, if a man thought properly, he ought to rejoice to have been called into existence, if he were only permitted to become an instrument in forwarding it in any part of its progress. Against these sentiments, on the other hand, I had to urge, that I had been designed for the church; that I had already advanced as far as deacon's orders in it; that my prospects there on account of my connexions were then brilliant, that, by appearing to desert my profession, my family would be dissatisfied, if not unhappy. These thoughts pressed upon me, and rendered the conflict difficult. But the sacrifice of my prospects staggered me, I own, the most. When the other objections, which I have related, occurred to me, my enthusiasm instantly, like a flash of lightning, consumed them; but this stuck to me, and troubled me. I had ambition. I had a thirst after worldly interest and honours, and I could not extinguish it at once. I was more than two hours in solitude under this painful conflict. At length I yielded, not because I saw any reasonable prospect of success in my new undertaking (for all cool-headed and cool-hearted men would have pronounced against it), but in obedience, I believe, to a higher Power. And I can say, that both on the moment of this resolution, and for some time afterwards, I had more sublime and happy feelings than at any former period of my life. Having now made up my mind on the subject, I informed Mr. Ramsay, that in a few days I should be leaving Teston, that I might begin my labours, according to the pledge I had given him. CHAPTER IX. Continuation of the fourth Class of forerunners and coadjutors Up to 1787.--Author resolves upon the distribution of his book.--Mr. Sheldon; Sir Herbert Mackworth; Lord Newhaven; Lord Balgonie (afterwards Leven); Lord Hawke; Bishop Porteus.--Author visits African vessels in the Thames; and various persons, for further information.--Visits also Members of Parliament; Sir Richard Hill; Mr. Powys (late Lord Lilford); Mr. Wilberforce and others; conduct of the latter on this occasion. On my return to London, I called upon William Dillwyn, to inform him of the resolution I had made at Teston, and found him at his town lodgings in the Poultry. I informed him also, that I had a letter of introduction in my pocket from Sir Charles Middleton to Samuel Hoare, with whom I was to converse on the subject. The latter gentleman had interested himself the year before as one of the committee for the Black poor in London, whom Mr. Sharp was sending under the auspices of government to Sierra Leone. He was also, as the reader may see by looking back, a member of the second class of coadjutors, or of the little committee which had branched out of the Quakers in England as before described. William Dillwyn said he would go with me and introduce me himself. On our arrival in Lombard-street, I saw my new friend, with whom we conversed for some time. From thence I proceeded, accompanied by both, to the house of James Phillips in George-yard, to whom I was desirous of communicating my resolution also. We found him at home, conversing with a friend of the same religious society, whose name was Joseph Gurney Bevan. I then repeated my resolution before them all. We had much friendly and satisfactory conversation together. I received much encouragement on every side, and I fixed to meet them again at the place where we then were in three days. On the evening of the same day, I waited upon Granville Sharp to make the same communication to him. He received it with great pleasure, and he hoped I should have strength to proceed. From thence I went to the Baptist-head coffee-house, in Chancery-lane, and having engaged with the master of the house that I should always have one private room to myself when I wanted it, I took up my abode there, in order to be near my friend Richard Phillips of Lincoln's Inn, from whose advice and assistance I had formed considerable expectations. The first matter for our deliberation, after we had thus become neighbours, was, what plan I ought to pursue to give effect to the resolution I had taken. After having discussed the matter two or three times at his chambers, it seemed to be our opinion, that, as members of the legislature could do more to the purpose in this question, than any other persons, it would be proper to circulate all the remaining copies of my work among these, in order that they might thus obtain information upon the subject. Secondly, that it would be proper that I should wait personally upon several of these also. And thirdly, that I should be endeavouring in the interim to enlarge my own knowledge, that I might thus be enabled to answer the various objections which might be advanced on the other side of the question, as well as become qualified to be a manager of the cause. On the third day, or at the time appointed, I went with Richard Phillips to George-yard, Lombard-street, where I met all my friends as before. I communicated to them the opinion we had formed at Lincoln's Inn, relative to my future proceedings in the three different branches as now detailed. They approved the plan. On desiring a number of my books to be sent to me at my new lodgings for the purpose of distribution, Joseph Gurney Bevan, who was stated to have been present at the former interview, seemed uneasy, and at length asked me if I was going to distribute these at my own expense. I replied, I was. He appealed immediately to those present whether it ought to be allowed. He asked whether, when a young man was giving up his time from morning till night, they who applauded his pursuit and seemed desirous of co-operating with him, should allow him to make such a sacrifice, or whether they should not at least secure him from loss; and he proposed directly that the remaining part of the edition should be taken off by subscription, and, in order that my feelings might not be hurt from any supposed stain arising from the thought of gaining any thing by such a proposal, they should be paid for only at the prime cost. I felt myself much obliged to him for this tender consideration about me, and particularly for the latter part of it, under which alone I accepted the offer. Samuel Hoare was charged with the management of the subscription, and the books were to be distributed as I had proposed, and in any way which I myself might prescribe. This matter having been determined upon, my first care was that the books should be put into proper hands. Accordingly I went round among my friends from day to day, wishing to secure this before I attended to any of the other objects. In this I was much assisted by my friend Richard Phillips. Mr. Langton began the distribution of them. He made a point either of writing to or of calling upon those to whom he sent them. Dr. Baker took the charge of several for the same purpose; Lord and Lady Scarsdale of others; Sir Charles and Lady Middleton of others. Mr. Sheldon, at the request of Richard Phillips, introduced me by letter to several members of parliament, to whom I wished to deliver them myself. Sir Herbert Mackworth, when spoken to by the latter, offered his services also. He seemed to be particularly interested in the cause. He went about to many of his friends in the House of Commons, and this from day to day, to procure their favour towards it. Lord Newhaven was applied to, and distributed some. Lord Balgonie took a similar charge. The late Lord Hawke, who told me that he had long felt for the sufferings of the injured Africans, desired to be permitted to take his share of the distribution among members of the House of Lords, and Dr. Porteus, now Bishop of London, became another coadjutor in the same work. This distribution of my books having been consigned to proper hands, I began to qualify myself, by obtaining further knowledge, for the management of this great cause. As I had obtained the principal part of it from reading, I thought I ought now to see what could be seen, and to know from living persons what could be known on the subject. With respect to the first of these points, the river Thames presented itself as at hand. Ships were going occasionally from the port of London to Africa, and why could I not get on board them and examine for myself? After diligent inquiry, I heard of one which had just arrived. I found her to be a little wood-vessel, called the Lively, Captain Williamson, or one which traded to Africa in the natural productions of the country, such as ivory, bees'-wax, Malaguetta pepper, palm-oil, and dye-woods. I obtained specimens of some of these, so that I now became possessed of some of those things of which I had only read before. On conversing with the mate, he showed me one or two pieces of the cloth made by the natives, and from their own cotton. I prevailed upon him to sell me a piece of each. Here new feelings arose, and particularly when I considered that persons of so much apparent ingenuity, and capable of such beautiful work as the Africans, should be made slaves, and reduced to a level with the brute creation. My reflections here on the better use which might be made of Africa by the substitution of another trade, and on the better use which might be made of her inhabitants, served greatly to animate and to sustain me amidst the labour of my pursuits. The next vessel I boarded was the Fly, Captain Colley. Here I found myself for the first time on the deck of a slave-vessel. The sight of the rooms below and of the gratings above, and of the barricado across the deck, and the explanation of the uses of all these, filled me both with melancholy and horror. I found soon afterwards a fire of indignation kindling within me. I had now scarce patience to talk with those on board. I had not the coolness this first time to go leisurely over the places that were open to me. I got away quickly. But that which I thought I saw horrible in this vessel had the same effect upon me as that which I thought I had seen agreeable in the other, namely, to animate and to invigorate me in my pursuit. But I will not trouble the reader with any further account of my water-expeditions, while attempting to perfect my knowledge on this subject. I was equally assiduous in obtaining intelligence wherever it could be had; and being now always on the watch, I was frequently falling in with individuals, from whom I gained something. My object was to see all who had been in Africa, but more particularly those who had never been interested, or who at any rate were not then interested, in the trade. I gained accordingly access very early to General Rooke; to Lieutenant Dalrymple, of the army; to Captain Fiddes, of the engineers; to the reverend Mr. Newton; to Mr. Nisbett, a surgeon in the Minories; to Mr. Devaynes, who was then in parliament, and to many others; and I made it a rule to put down in writing, after every conversation, what had taken place in the course of it. By these means, things began to unfold themselves to me more and more, and I found my stock of knowledge almost daily on the increase. While, however, I was forwarding this, I was not inattentive to the other object of my pursuit, which was that of waiting upon members personally. The first I called upon was Sir Richard Hill. At the first interview he espoused the cause. I waited then upon others, and they professed themselves friendly; but they seemed to make this profession more from the emotion of good hearts, revolting at the bare mention of the Slave Trade, than from any knowledge concerning it. One, however, whom I visited, Mr. Powys, (the late Lord Lilford,) with whom I had been before acquainted in Northamptonshire, seemed to doubt some of the facts in my book, from a belief that human nature was not capable of proceeding to such a pitch of wickedness. I asked him to name his facts. He selected the case of the hundred and thirty-two slaves who were thrown alive into the sea to defraud the underwriters. I promised to satisfy him fully upon this point, and went immediately to Granville Sharp, who lent me his account of the trial, as reported at large from the notes of the short-hand writer, whom he had employed on the occasion. Mr. Powys read the account. He became, in consequence of it, convinced, as, indeed, he could not otherwise be, of the truth of what I had asserted, and he declared at the same time that, if this were true, there was nothing so horrible related of this trade, which might not immediately be believed. Mr. Powys had been always friendly to this question, but now he took a part in the distribution of my books. Among those whom I visited was Mr. Wilberforce. On my first interview with him, he stated frankly, that the subject had often employed his thoughts, and that it was near his heart. He seemed earnest about it, and also very desirous of taking the trouble of inquiring further into it. Having read my book, which I had delivered to him, in person, he sent, for me. He expressed a wish that I would make him acquainted with some of my authorities for the assertions in it, which I did afterwards to his satisfaction. He asked me if I could support it by any other evidence. I told him I could. I mentioned Mr. Newton, Mr. Nisbett, and several others to him. He took the trouble of sending for all these. He made memorandums of their conversation, and, sending for me afterwards, showed them to me. On learning my intention to devote myself to the cause, he paid me many handsome compliments. He then desired me to call upon him often, and to acquaint him with my progress from time to time. He expressed also his willingness to afford me any assistance in his power in the prosecution of my pursuits. The carrying on of these different objects, together with the writing which was connected with them, proved very laborious, and occupied almost all my time. I was seldom engaged less than sixteen hours in the day. When I left Teston to begin the pursuit as an object of my life, I promised my friend Mr. Ramsay a weekly account of my progress. At the end of the first week my letter to him contained little more than a sheet of paper. At the end of the second it contained three; at the end of the third, six; and at the end of the fourth I found it would be so voluminous, that I was obliged to decline writing it. CHAPTER X. Continuation of the fourth class of forerunners and coadjutors up to 1787.--Author goes on to enlarge his knowledge in the different departments of the subject; communicates more frequently with Mr. Wilberforce.--Meetings now appointed at the house of the latter.--Dinner at Mr. Langton's.--Mr. Wilberforce pledges himself there to take up the subject in Parliament; remarkable junction, in consequence, of all the four classes of forerunners and coadjutors before-mentioned.--Committee formed out of these on the 22nd of May, 1787, for the abolition of the Slave Trade. The manner in which Mr. Wilberforce had received me, and the pains which he had taken, and was still taking, to satisfy himself of the truth of those enormities which had been charged upon the Slave Trade, tended much to enlarge my hope, that they might become at length the subject of a parliamentary inquiry. Richard Phillips, also, to whom I made a report at his chambers almost every evening of the proceedings of the day, had begun to entertain a similar expectation. Of course we unfolded our thoughts to one another; from hence a desire naturally sprung up in each of us to inquire whether any alteration in consequence of this new prospect should be made in my pursuits. On deliberating upon this point, it seemed proper to both of us that the distribution of the books should be continued; that I should still proceed in enlarging my own knowledge; and that I should still wait upon members of the legislature, but with this difference, that I should never lose sight of Mr. Wilberforce, but, on the other hand, that I should rather omit visiting some others than paying a proper attention to him. One thing however appeared now to be necessary, which had not yet been done. This was to inform our friends in the city, upon whom I had all along occasionally called, that we believed the time was approaching when it would be desirable that we should unite our labours, if they saw no objection to such a measure; for, if the Slave Trade were to become a subject of parliamentary inquiry with a view to the annihilation of it, no individual could perform the work which would be necessary for such a purpose. This work must be a work of many; and who so proper to assist in it as they, who had before so honourably laboured in it? In the case of such an event large funds also would be wanted, and who so proper to procure and manage them as these? A meeting was accordingly called at the house of James Phillips, when these our views were laid open. When I stated that from the very time of my hopes beginning to rise I had always had those present in my eye as one day to be fellow-labourers, William Dillwyn replied, that from the time they had first heard of the _Prize Essay_, they also had had their eyes upon me, and, from the time they had first seen me, had conceived: a desire of making the same use of me as I had now expressed a wish of making of them, but that matters did not appear ripe at our first interview. Our proposal, however, was approved, and an assurance was given, that an union should take place as soon as it was judged to be seasonable. It was resolved also, that one day in the week[A] should be appointed for a meeting at the house of James Phillips, where as many might attend as had leisure, and that I should be there to make a report of my progress, by which we might all judge of the fitness of the time of calling ourselves an united body. Pleased now with the thought that matters were put into such a train, I returned to my former objects. [Footnote A: At these weekly meetings I met occasionally Joseph Woods, George Harrison, and John Lloyd, three of the other members, who belonged to the committee of the second class of forerunners and coadjutors as before described. I had seen all of them before, but I do not recollect the time when I first met them.] It is not necessary to say anything more of the first of these objects, which was that of the further distribution of my book, than that it was continued, and chiefly by the same hands. With respect to the enlargement of my knowledge, it was promoted likewise. I now gained access to the Custom-House in London, where I picked up much valuable information for my purpose. Having had reason to believe that the Slave Trade was peculiarly fatal to those employed in it, I wished much to get copies of many of the muster-rolls from the Custom-House at Liverpool for a given time. James Phillips wrote to his friend William Rathbone, who was one of his own religious society, and who resided there, to procure them. They were accordingly sent up. The examination of these, which took place at the chambers of Richard Phillips, was long and tedious. We looked over them together. We usually met for this purpose at nine in the evening, and we seldom parted till one, and sometimes not till three in the morning. When our eyes were inflamed by the candle, or tired by fatigue, we used to relieve ourselves by walking out within the precincts of Lincoln's Inn, when all seemed to be fast asleep, and thus, as it were, in solitude and in stillness to converse upon them, as well as upon the best means of the further promotion of our cause. These scenes of our early friendship and exertions I shall never forget. I often think of them both with astonishment and with pleasure. Having recruited ourselves in this manner, we used to return to our work. From these muster-rolls, I may now observe that we gained the most important information: we ascertained, beyond the power of contradiction, that more than half of the seamen who went out with the ships in the Slave Trade did not return with them, and that of these so many perished, as amounted to one-fifth of all employed. As to what became of the remainder, the muster-rolls did not inform us; this, therefore, was left to us as a subject for our future inquiry. In endeavouring to enlarge my knowledge, my thoughts were frequently turned to the West Indian part of the question, and in this department my friend Richard Phillips gained me important intelligence. He put into my hands several documents concerning estates in the West Indies, which he had mostly from the proprietors themselves, where the slaves by mild and prudent usage had so increased in population, as to supersede the necessity of the Slave Trade. By attending to these and to various other parts of the subject, I began to see as it were with new eyes; I was enabled to make several necessary discriminations, to reconcile things before seemingly contradictory, and to answer many objections which had hitherto put on a formidable shape. But most of all was I rejoiced at the thought that I should soon be able to prove that which I had never doubted, but which had hitherto been beyond my power in this case, that Providence, in ordaining laws relative to the agency of man, had never made that to be wise which was immoral, and that the Slave Trade would be found as impolitic as it was inhuman and unjust. In keeping up my visits to members of parliament, I was particularly attentive to Mr. Wilberforce, whom I found daily becoming more interested in the fate of Africa. I now made to him a regular report of my progress, of the sentiments of those in parliament whom I had visited, of the disposition of my friends in the city, of whom he had often heard me speak, of my discoveries from the Custom-Houses of London and Liverpool, of my documents concerning West India estates, and of all, indeed, that had occurred to me worth mentioning. He had himself also been making his inquiries, which he communicated to me in return. Our intercourse had now become frequent, no one week elapsing without an interview: at one of these, I suggested to him the propriety of having occasional meetings at his own house, consisting of a few friends in parliament, who might converse on the subject: of this he approved. The persons present at the first meeting were Mr. Wilberforce, the Honourable John Villiers, Mr. Powys, Sir Charles Middleton, Sir Richard Hill, Mr. Granville Sharp, Mr. Ramsay, Dr. Gregory, (who had written on the subject, as before mentioned,) and myself. At this meeting I read a paper, giving an account of the light I had collected in the course of my inquiries, with observations as well on the impolicy as on the wickedness of the trade. Many questions arose out of the reading of this little essay; many answers followed. Objections were started and canvassed. In short, this measure was found so useful, that certain other evenings as well as mornings were fixed upon for the same purpose. On reporting my progress to my friends in the city, several of whom now assembled once in the week, as I mentioned before to have been agreed upon, and particularly on reporting the different meetings which had taken place at the house of Mr. Wilberforce on the subject, they were of opinion that the time was approaching when we might unite, and that this union might prudently commence as soon as ever Mr. Wilberforce would give his word that he would take up the question in Parliament. Upon this I desired to observe, that though the latter gentleman had pursued the subject with much earnestness, he had never yet dropped the least hint that he would proceed so far in the matter, but I would take care that the question should be put to him, and I would bring them his answer. In consequence of the promise I had now made, I went to Mr. Wilberforce. But when I saw him, I seemed unable to inform him of the object of my visit. Whether this inability arose from any sudden fear that his answer might not be favourable, or from a fear that I might possibly involve him in a long and arduous contest upon this subject, or whether it arose from an awful sense of the importance of the mission, as it related to the happiness of hundreds of thousands then alive, and of millions then unborn, I cannot say. But I had a feeling within me for which I could not account, and which seemed to hinder me from proceeding; and I actually went away without informing him of my errand. In this situation I began to consider what to do, when I thought I would call upon Mr. Langton, tell him what had happened, and ask his advice. I found him at home. We consulted together. The result was, that he was to invite Mr. Wilberforce and some others to meet me at a dinner at his own house in two or three days, when he said he had no doubt of being able to procure an answer, by some means or other, to the question which I wished to have resolved. On receiving a card from Mr. Langton, I went to dine with him. I found the party consist of Sir Charles Middleton, Mr. Wilberforce, Mr. Hawkins Browne, Mr. Windham, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Mr. Boswell. The latter was then known as the friend of Dr. Johnson, and afterwards as the writer of his _Tour to the Hebrides_. After dinner the subject of the Slave Trade was purposely introduced. Many questions were put to me, and I dilated upon each in my answers, that I might inform and interest those present as much as I could. They seemed to be greatly impressed with my account of the loss of seamen in the trade, and with the little samples of African cloth which I had procured for their inspection. Sir Joshua Reynolds gave his unqualified approbation of the abolition of this cruel traffic. Mr. Hawkins Browne joined heartily with him in sentiment; he spoke with much feeling upon it, and pronounced it to be barbarous, and contrary to every principle of morality and religion. Mr. Boswell, after saying the planters would urge that the Africans were made happier by being carried from their own country to the West Indies, observed, "Be it so. But we have no right to make people happy against their will." Mr. Windham, when it was suggested that the great importance of our West Indian islands, and the grandeur of Liverpool, would be brought against those who should propose the abolition of the Slave Trade, replied, "We have nothing to do with the policy of the measure. Rather let Liverpool and the islands be swallowed up in the sea, than this monstrous system of iniquity be carried on.[A]" While such conversation was passing, and when all appeared to be interested in the cause, Mr. Langton put the question, about the proposal of which I had been so diffident, to Mr. Wilberforce, in the shape of a delicate compliment. The latter replied, that he had no objection to bring forward the measure in parliament when he was better prepared for it, and provided no person more proper could be found. Upon this, Mr. Hawkins Browne and Mr. Windham both said they would support him there. Before I left the company, I took Mr. Wilberforce aside, and asked him if I might mention this his resolution to those of my friends in the city, of whom he had often heard me speak, as desirous of aiding him by becoming a committee for the purpose. He replied, I might. I then asked Mr. Langton, privately, if he had any objection to belong to a society of which there might be a committee for the abolition of the Slave Trade. He said he should be pleased to become a member of it. Having received these satisfactory answers, I returned home. [Footnote A: I do not know upon what grounds, after such strong expressions, Mr. Boswell, in the next year, and Mr. Windham, after having supported the cause for three or four years, became inimical to it.] The next day, having previously taken down the substance of the conversation at the dinner, I went to James Phillips, and desired that our friends might be called together as soon as they conveniently could to hear my report. In the interim I wrote to Dr. Peckard, and waited upon Lord Scarsdale, Dr. Baker, and others, to know (supposing a society were formed for the abolition of the Slave Trade) if I might say they would belong to it. All of them replied in the affirmative, and desired me to represent them, if there should be any meeting for this purpose. At the time appointed I met my friends. I read over the substance of the conversation which had taken place at Mr. Langton's. No difficulty occurred. All were unanimous for the formation of a committee. On the next day we met by agreement for this purpose. It was then resolved unanimously, among other things,--That the Slave Trade was both impolitic and unjust. It was resolved, also,--That the following persons be a committee for procuring such information and evidence, and publishing the same, as may tend to the abolition of the Slave Trade, and for directing the application of such moneys as have been already, and may hereafter be collected for the above purpose:-- All these were present. Granville Sharp, who stands at the head of the list, and who, as the father of the cause in England, was called to the chair, maybe considered as representing the first class of forerunners and coadjutors, as it has been before described. The five next, of whom Samuel Hoare was chosen as the treasurer, were they who had been the committee of the second class, or of the Quakers in England, with the exception of Dr. Knowles, who was then dying, but who, having heard of our meeting, sent a message to us to exhort us to proceed. The third class, or that of the Quakers in America, may be considered as represented by William Dillwyn, by whom they were afterwards joined to us in correspondence. The two who stand next, and in which I am included, may be considered as representing the fourth, most of the members of which we had been the means of raising. Thus, on the 22nd of May, 1787, the representatives of all the four classes, of which I have been giving a history from the year 1516, met together, and were united in that committee, to which I have been all along directing the attention of the reader; a committee, which, labouring afterwards with Mr. Wilberforce as a parliamentary head, did, under Providence, in the space of twenty years, contribute to put an end to a trade, which, measuring its magnitude by its crimes and sufferings, was the greatest practical evil that ever afflicted the human race. After the formation of the committee[A], notice was sent to Mr. Wilberforce of the event, and a friendship began, which has continued uninterruptedly between them, from that to the present day. [Footnote A: All the members were of the society of the Quakers, except Mr. Sharp, Sansom, and myself. Joseph Gurney Bevan was present on the day before this meeting. He desired to belong to the society, but to be excused from belonging to the committee.] CHAPTER XI. The preceding history of the different classes of the forerunners and coadjutors, to the time of the formation of the committee, collected into one view by means of a map.--Explanation of this map, and observations upon it. As the preceding history of the different classes of the forerunners and coadjutors, to the time of their junction, or to the formation of the committee, as just explained, may be thought interesting by many, I have endeavoured, by means of the annexed map, so to bring it before the reader, that he may comprehend the whole of it at a single view. The figure beginning at A and reaching down to X represents the first class of forerunners and coadjutors up to the year 1787, as consisting of so many springs or rivulets, which assisted in making and swelling the torrent which swept away the Slave Trade. The figure from B to C and from C to X represents the second class, or that of the Quakers in England, up to the same time. The stream on the right-hand represents them as a body, and that on the left the six individuals belonging to them, who formed the committee in 1783. The figure from B to D represents the third class, or that of the Quakers in America when joined with others in 1774. The stream passing from D through E to X shows how this class was conveyed down, as it were, so as to unite with the second. That passing from D to Y shows its course in its own country, to its enlargement in 1787. And here I may observe, that as the different streams which formed a junction at X, were instrumental in producing the abolition of the Slave Trade in England, in the month of March, 1807, so those, whose effects are found united at Y, contributed to produce the same event in America, in the same month of the same year. The figure from F to X represents the fourth class up to 1787. [Illustration: First Class of Forerunners and Coadjutors] [Illustration: Second Class of Forerunners and Coadjutors] [Illustration: Third Class of Forerunners and Coadjutors] X represents the junction of all the four classes in the committee instituted in London on the twenty-second day of May, 1787. The parallel lines G, H, I, K, represent different periods of time, showing when the forerunners and coadjutors lived. The space between G and H includes the space of fifty years, in which we find but few labourers in this cause. That between H and I includes the same portion of time, in which we find them considerably increased, or nearly doubled. That between I and K represents the next thirty-seven years; but here we find their increase beyond all expectation, for we find four times more labourers in this short term, than in the whole of the preceding century. In looking over the map, as thus explained, a number of thoughts suggested themselves, some of which it may not be improper to detail. And first, in looking between the first and second parallel, we perceive, that Morgan Godwyn, Richard Baxter, and George Fox, the first a clergyman of the established church, the second a divine at the head of the nonconformists, and the third the founder of the religious society of the Quakers, appeared each of them the first in his own class, and all of them, about the same time, in behalf of the oppressed Africans. We see then this great truth first apparent, that the abolition of the Slave Trade took its rise, not from persons who set up a cry for liberty, when they were oppressors themselves, nor from persons who were led to it by ambition, or a love of reputation among men, but where it was most desirable, namely, from the teachers of Christianity in those times. This account of its rise will furnish us with some important lessons. And first, it shows us the great value of religion. We see, when moral disorders become known, that the virtuous are they who rise up for the removal of them. Thus Providence seems to have appointed those who devote themselves most to his service, to the honourable office of becoming so many agents, under his influence, for the correction of the evils of life. And as this account of the rise of the abolition of the Slave Trade teaches us the necessity of a due cultivation of religion; so it should teach us to have a brotherly affection for those, who, though they may differ from us in speculative opinions concerning it, do yet show by their conduct that they have a high reward for it. For though Godwyn, and Baxter, and Fox, differed as to the articles of their faith, we find them impelled by the spirit of Christianity, which is of infinitely more importance than a mere agreement in creeds, to the same good end. In looking over the different streams in the map, as they are discoverable both in Europe and America, we are impressed with another truth on the same subject, which is, that the Christian religion is capable of producing the same good fruit in all lands. However men may differ on account of climate, or language, or government, or laws, or however they may be situated in different quarters of the globe, it will produce in them the same virtuous disposition, and make them instruments for the promotion of happiness in the world. In looking between the two first parallels, where we see so few labourers, and in contemplating the great increase of these between the others, we are taught the consoling lesson, that however small the beginning and slow the progress may appear in any good work which we may undertake, we need not be discouraged as to the ultimate result of our labours; for though our cause may appear stationary, it may only become so, in order that it may take a deeper root, and thus be enabled to stand better against the storms which may afterwards beat about it. In taking the same view again, we discover the manner in which light and information proceed under a free government in a good cause. An individual, for example, begins; he communicates his sentiments to others. Thus, while alive, he enlightens; when dead, he leaves his works, behind him. Thus, though departed, he yet speaks, and his influence is not lost. Of those enlightened by him, some become authors, and others actors in their turn. While living, they instruct, like their predecessors; when dead, they speak also. Thus a number of dead persons are encouraging us in libraries, and a number of living are conversing and diffusing zeal among us at the same time. This, however, is not true in any free and enlightened country, with respect to the propagation of evil. The living find no permanent encouragement, and the dead speak to no purpose in such a case. This account of the manner in which light and information proceed in a free country, furnishes us with some valuable knowledge. It shows us, first, the great importance of education; for all they who can read may become enlightened. They may gain as much from the dead as from the living. They may see the sentiments of former ages. Thus they may contract, by degrees, habits of virtuous inclination, and become fitted to join with others in the removal of any of the evils of life. It shows us, secondly, how that encouraging maxim may become true, That no good effort is ever lost. For if he, who makes the virtuous attempt, should be prevented by death from succeeding in it, can he not speak, though in the tomb? Will not his works still breathe his sentiments upon it? May not the opinions, and the facts, which he has recorded, meet the approbation of ten thousand readers, of whom it is probable, in the common course of things, that some will branch out of him as authors, and others as actors or labourers, in the same cause? And, lastly, it will show us the difficulty (if any attempt should be made) of reversing permanently the late noble act of the legislature for the abolition of the Slave Trade. For let us consider how many, both of the living and the dead, could be, made to animate us. Let us consider, too, that this is the cause of mercy, justice, and religion; that as such, it will always afford renewed means of rallying; and that the dead will always be heard with interest, and the living with enthusiasm upon it. CHAPTER XII. Author devotes this chapter to considerations relative to himself; fears that by the frequent introduction of himself to the notice of the reader he may incur the charge of ostentation.--Observations on such a charge. Having brought my history of the abolition of the Slave Trade up to the month of May 1787, I purpose taking the liberty, before I proceed with it, to devote this chapter to considerations relative to myself. This, indeed, seems to be now necessary; for I have been fearful for some pages past, and, indeed, from the time when I began to introduce myself to the notice of the reader, as one of the forerunners and coadjutors in this great cause, that I might appear to have put myself into a situation too prominent, so as even to have incurred the charge of ostentation. But if there should be some who, in consequence of what they have already read of this history, should think thus unfavourably of me, what must their opinion ultimately be, when, unfortunately, I must become still more prominent in it! Nor do I know in what manner I shall escape their censure: for if, to avoid egotism, I should write, as many have done, in the third person, what would this profit me? The delicate situation, therefore, in which I feel myself to be placed, makes me desirous of saying a few words to the reader on this subject. And first, I may observe, that several of my friends urged me from time to time, and this long before the abolition of the Slave Trade had been effected, to give a history of the rise and progress of the attempt, as far as it had been then made; but I uniformly resisted their application. When the question was decided last year, they renewed their request. They represented to me, that no person knew the beginning and progress of this great work so well as myself; that it was a pity that such knowledge should die with me; that such a history would be useful; that it would promote good feelings among men; that it would urge them to benevolent exertions; that it would supply them with hope in the midst of these; that it would teach them many valuable lessons;--these and other things were said to me. But, encouraging as they were, I never lost sight of the objection; which is the subject of this chapter; nor did I ever fail to declare, that though, considering the part I had taken in this great cause, I might be qualified better than some others, yet it was a task too delicate for me to perform. I always foresaw that I could not avoid making myself too prominent an object in such a history, and that I should be liable, on that account, to the suspicion of writing it for the purpose of sounding my own praise. With this objection my friends were not satisfied. They answered, that I might treat the History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade as a species of biography, or as the history of a part of my own life: that people, who had much less weighty matters to communicate, wrote their own histories; and that no one charged them with vanity for so doing. I own I was not convinced by this answer. I determined, however, in compliance with their wishes, to examine the objection more minutely, and to see if I could overcome it more satisfactorily to my own mind. With this view, I endeavoured to anticipate the course which such a history would take. I saw clearly, in the first place, that there were times, for months together, when the committee for the abolition of the Slave Trade was labouring without me, and when I myself for an equal space of time was labouring in distant parts of the kingdom without them. Hence I perceived that, if my own exertions were left out, there would be repeated chasms in this history; and, indeed, that it could not be completed without the frequent mention of myself. And I was willing to hope that this would be so obvious to the good sense of the reader, that if he should think me vain-glorious in the early part of it, he would afterwards, when he advanced in the perusal of it, acquit me of such a charge. This consideration was the first which removed my objection on this head. That there can be no ground for any charge of ostentation, as far as the origin of this history is concerned, so I hope to convince him there, can be none, by showing him in what light I have always viewed myself in connexion with the committee, to which I have had the honour to belong. I have uniformly considered our committee for the abolition of the Slave Trade; as we usually consider the human body, that is, as made up of a head and of various members which had different offices to perform. Thus, if one man was an eye, another was an ear, another an arm, and another a foot. And here I may say, with great truth, that I believe no committee was ever made up of persons, whose varied talents were better adapted to the work before them. Viewing then the committee in this light, and myself as in connexion with it, I may deduce those truths, with which the analogy will furnish me. And first, it will follow, that if every member has performed his office faithfully, though one may have done something more than another, yet no one of them in particular has any reason to boast. With what propriety could the foot, though in the execution of its duty it had become weary, say to the finger, "Thou hast done less than I;" when the finger could reply with truth, "I have done all that has been given me to do?". It will follow, also, that as every limb is essentially necessary for the completion of a perfect work; so in the case before us, every one was as necessary in his own office, or department, as another. For what, for example, could I myself have done if I had not derived so much assistance from the committee? What could Mr. Wilberforce have done in Parliament, if I, on the other hand, had not collected that great body of evidence, to which there was such a constant appeal? And what could the committee have done without the parliamentary aid of Mr. Wilberforce? And in mentioning this necessity of distinct offices and talents for the accomplishment of the great work, in which we have been all of us engaged, I feel myself bound by the feelings of justice to deliver it as my opinion in this place, (for, perhaps, I may have no other opportunity,) that knowing, as I have done, so many members of both houses of our legislature, for many of whom I have had a sincere respect, there was never yet one, who appeared to me to be so properly qualified, in all respects, for the management of the great cause of the abolition of the Slave Trade, as he, whose name I have just mentioned. His connexions, but more particularly his acquaintance with the first minister of state, were of more service in the promotion of it, than they, who are but little acquainted with political movements, can well appreciate. His habits also of diligent and persevering inquiry made him master of all the knowledge that was requisite for conducting it. His talents both in and out of parliament made him a powerful advocate in its favour. His character, free from the usual spots of human imperfection, gave an appropriate lustre to the cause, making it look yet more lovely, and enticing others to its support. But most of all the motive, on which he undertook it, insured its progress. For this did not originate in views of selfishness, or of party or of popular applause, but in an awful sense of his duty as a Christian. It was this which gave him alacrity and courage in his pursuit. It was this which made him continue in his elevated situation of a legislator, though it was unfavourable, if not to his health, at least to his ease and comfort. It was this which made him incorporate this great object among the pursuits of his life, so that it was daily in his thoughts. It was this which when year after year of unsuccessful exertion returned, occasioned him to be yet fresh and vigorous in spirit, and to persevere till the day of triumph. But to return:--There is yet another consideration, which I shall offer to the reader on this subject, and with which I shall conclude it. It is this; that no one ought to be accused of vanity until he has been found to assume to himself some extraordinary merit. This being admitted, I shall now freely disclose the views which I have always been desirous of taking of my own conduct on this occasion, in the following words:-- As Robert Barclay, the apologist for the Quakers, when he dedicated his work to Charles the Second, intimated to this prince, that any merit which the work might have, would not be derived from his patronage of it, but from the Author of all spiritual good; so I say to the reader, with respect to myself, that I disclaim all praise on account of any part I may have taken in the promotion of this great cause, for that I am desirious above all things to attribute my best endeavours in it to the influence of a superior Power; of Him, I mean, who gave me a heart to feel--who gave me courage to begin--and perseverance to proceed--and that I am thankful to Him, and this with the deepest feeling of gratitude and humility, for having permitted me to become useful, in any degree, to my fellow-creatures. CHAPTER XIII Author returns to his History.--Committee formed as before-mentioned; its proceedings.--Author produces a summary view of the Slave Trade, and of the probable consequences of its abolition.--Wrongs of Africa, by Mr. Roscoe, generously presented to the committee.--Important discussion as to the object of the committee.--Emancipation declared to be no part of it.--Committee decides on its public title.--Author requested to go to Bristol, Liverpool, and Lancaster, to collect further information on the subject of the trade. I return now, after this long digression, to the continuation of my history. It was shown in the latter part of the tenth chapter, that twelve individuals, all of whom were then named, met together by means which no one could have foreseen, on the 22d of May, 1787; and that, after having voted the Slave Trade to be both unjust and impolitic, they formed themselves into a committee for procuring such information and evidence, and for publishing the same, as might tend to the abolition of it, and for directing the application of such money as had been already, and might hereafter be collected for that purpose. At this meeting it was resolved also, that no less than three members should form a quorum; that Samuel Hoare should be the treasurer; that the treasurer should pay no money but by order of the committee; and that copies of these resolutions should be printed and circulated, in which it should be inserted that the subscriptions of all such as were willing to forward the plans of the committee should be received by the treasurer or any member of it. On the 24th of May the committee met again to promote the object of its institution. The treasurer reported at this meeting, that the subscriptions already received amounted to one hundred and thirty-six pounds. As I had foreseen long before this time that my _Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species_ was too large for general circulation, and yet that a general circulation of knowledge on this subject was absolutely necessary, I determined directly after the formation of the committee to write a short pamphlet consisting only of eight or ten pages for this purpose. I called it _A Summary View of the Slave Trade, and of the probable consequences of its Abolition_. It began by exhibiting to the reader the various unjustifiable ways in which persons living on the coast of Africa became slaves. It then explained the treatment which these experienced on their passage, the number dying in the course of it, and the treatment of the survivors in the colonies of those nations to which they were carried. It then announced the speedy publication of a work on the impolicy of the trade, the contents of which, as far as I could then see, I gave generally under the following heads:--Part the first, it was said, would show that Africa was capable of offering to us a trade in its own natural productions as well as in the persons of men; that the trade in the persons of men was profitable but to a few; that its value was diminished from many commercial considerations; that it was also highly destructive to our seamen; and that the branch of it, by which we supplied the island of St. Domingo with slaves, was peculiarly impolitic on that account. Part the second, it was said, would show that if the slaves were kindly treated in our colonies, they would increase; that the abolition of the trade would necessarily secure such a treatment to them, and that it would produce many other advantages which would be then detailed. This little piece I presented to the committee at this their second meeting. It was then duly read and examined; and the result was, that after some little correction it was approved, and that two thousand copies of it were ordered to be printed, with lists of the subscribers and of the committee, and to be sent to various parts of the kingdom. On June the 7th, the committee met again for the despatch of business, when, among other things, they voted their thanks to Dr. Baker, of Lower Grosvenor-street, who had been one of my first assistants, for his services to the cause. At this committee John Barton, one of the members of it, stated that he was commissioned by the author of a poem, entitled _The Wrongs of Africa_, to offer the profits which might arise from the sale of that work, to the committee, for the purpose of enabling them to pursue the object of their institution. This circumstance was not only agreeable, inasmuch as it showed us that there were others who felt with us for the injured Africans, and who were willing to aid us in our designs, but it was rendered still more so when we were given to understand that the poem was written by Mr. Roscoe, of Liverpool, and the preface to it by the late Dr. Currie, who then lived in the same place. To find friends to our cause rising up from a quarter where we expected scarcely anything but opposition, was very consolatory and encouraging. As this poem was well written, but cannot now be had, I shall give the introductory part of it, which is particularly beautiful, to the perusal of the reader. It begins thus:-- Offspring of Love divine, Humanity! To whom, his eldest born, th' Eternal gave Dominion o'er the heart; and taught to touch Its varied stops in sweetest unison; And strike the string that from a kindred breast Responsive vibrates! from the noisy haunts Of mercantile confusion, where thy voice Is heard not; from the meretricious glare Of crowded theatres, where in thy place Sits Sensibility, with wat'ry eye, Dropping o'er fancied woes her useless tear; Come thou, and weep with me substantial ills; And execrate the wrongs that Afric's sons, Torn from their natal shore, and doom'd to bear The yoke of servitude in foreign climes, Sustain. Nor vainly let our sorrows flow, Nor let the strong emotion rise in vain; But may the land contagion widely spread, Till in its flame the unrelenting heart Of avarice melt in softest sympathy-- And one bright blaze of universal love In grateful incense rises up to Heaven! Form'd with the same capacity of pain, The same desire of pleasure and of ease, Why feels not man for man! When nature shrinks From the slight puncture of an insect's sting, Faints, if not screen'd from sultry suns, und pines Beneath the hardship of an hour's delay Of needful nutriment;--when liberty Is priz'd so dearly, that the slightest breath That ruffles but her mantle, can awake To arms unwarlike nations, and can rouse Confed'rate states to vindicate her claims:-- How shall the suff'rer man his fellow doom To ills he mourns and spurns at; tear with stripes His quiv'ring flesh; with hunger and with thirst Waste his emaciate frame; in ceaseless toils Exhaust his vital powers; and bind his limbs In galling chains? Shall he, whose fragile form Demands continual blessings to support Its complicated texture, air, and food, Raiment, alternate rest, and kindly skies, And healthful seasons, dare with impious voice To ask those mercies, whilst his selfish aim Arrests the general freedom of their course; And, gratified beyond his utmost wish, Debars another from the bounteous store? In this manner was the subject of this beautiful poem introduced to the notice of the public. But I have no room for any further extracts, nor time to make any further comment upon it. I can only add, that the committee were duly sensible as well of its merits, as of the virtuous and generous disposition of the author, and that they requested John Barton to thank him in an appropriate manner for his offer, which he was to say they accepted gratefully. At this sitting, at which ten members were present out of the twelve, a discussion unexpectedly arose on a most important subject. The committee, finding that their meetings began to be approved by many, and that the cause under their care was likely to spread, and foreseeing, also, the necessity there would soon be of making themselves known as a public body throughout the kingdom, thought it right that they should assume some title, which should be a permanent one, and which should be expressive of their future views. This gave occasion to them to reconsider the object for which they had associated, and to fix and define it in such a manner that there should be no misunderstanding about it in the public mind. In looking into the subject, it appeared to them that there were two evils quite distinct from each other, which it might become their duty to endeavour to remove. The first was the evil of the Slave Trade, in consequence of which many thousand persons were every year fraudulently and forcibly taken from their country, their relations and friends, and from all that they esteemed valuable in life. The second was the evil of slavery itself, in consequence of which the same persons were forced into a situation where they were deprived of the rights of men, where they were obliged to linger out their days subject to excessive labour and cruel punishments, and where their children were to inherit the same hard lot. Now the question was, which of the two evils the committee should select as that to which they should direct their attention with a view of the removal of it; or whether, with the same view, it should direct its attention to both of them. It appeared soon to be the sense of the committee, that to aim at the removal of both, would be to aim at too much, and that by doing this we might lose all. The question then was, which of the two they were to take as their object? Now, in considering this question, it appeared that it did not matter where they began, or which of them they took, as far as the end to be produced was the thing desired. For first, if the Slave Trade should be really abolished, the bad usage of the slaves in the colonies, that is, the hard part of their slavery, if not the slavery itself, would fall. For the planters and others being unable to procure more slaves from the coast of Africa, it would follow directly, whenever this great event should take place, that they must treat those better whom they might then have. They must render marriage honourable among them. They must establish the union of one man with one wife. They must give the pregnant women more indulgences. They must pay more attention to the rearing of their offspring. They must work and punish the adults with less rigour. Now it was to be apprehended that they could not do these things, without seeing the political advantages which would arise to themselves from so doing; and that, reasoning upon this, they might be induced to go on to give them greater indulgences, rights, and privileges, in time. But how would every such successive improvement of their condition operate, but to bring them nearer to the state of freemen? In the same manner it was contended, that the better treatment of the slaves in the colonies, or that the emancipation of them there, when fit for it, would of itself lay the foundation for the abolition of the Slave Trade. For if the slaves were kindly treated, that is, if marriage were encouraged among them; if the infants who should be born were brought up with care; if the sick were properly attended to; if the young and the adult were well fed and properly clothed, and not over-worked, and not worn down by the weight of severe punishments, they would necessarily increase, and this on an extensive scale. But if the planters were thus to get their labourers from the births on their own estates, then the Slave Trade would in time be no longer necessary to them, and it would die away as an useless and a noxious plant. Thus it was of no consequence, which of the two evils the committee were to select as the object for their labours; for, as far as the end in view only was concerned, that the same end would be produced in either case. But in looking further into this question, it seemed to make a material difference which of the two they selected, as far as they had in view the due execution of any laws, which might be made respecting them, and their own prospect of success in the undertaking. For, by aiming at the abolition of the Slave Trade, they were laying the axe at the very root. By doing this, and this only, they would not incur the objection, that they were meddling with the property of the planters, and letting loose an irritated race of beings, who, in consequence of all the vices and infirmities which a state of slavery entails upon those who undergo it, were unfit for their freedom. By asking the government of the country to do this, and this only, they were asking for that which it had an indisputable right to do; namely, to regulate or abolish any of its branches of commerce: whereas it was doubtful, whether it could interfere with the management of the internal affairs of the colonies, or whether this was not wholly the province of the legislatures established there. By asking the government, again, to do this, and this only, they were asking what it could really enforce. It could station its ships of war, and command its custom-houses, so as to carry any act of this kind into effect. But it could not insure that an act to be observed in the heart of the islands should be enforced[A]. To this it was added, that if the committee were to fix upon the annihilation of slavery as the object for their labours, the Slave Trade would not fall so speedily as it would by a positive law for the abolition; because, though the increase from the births might soon supply all the estates now in cultivation with labourers, yet new plantations might be opened from time to time in different islands, so that no period could be fixed upon, when it could be said that it would cease. [Footnote A: The late correspondence of the governors of our colonies with Lord Camden in his official situation, but particularly the statements made by Lord Seaforth and General Prevost, have shown the wisdom of this remark, and that no dependence was to be had for the better usage of the slaves but upon the total abolition of the trade.] Impressed by these arguments, the committee were clearly of opinion, that they should define their object to be the abolition of the Slave Trade, and not of the slavery which sprung from it. Hence from this time, and in allusion to the month when this discussion took place, they styled themselves in their different advertisements, and reports, though they were first associated in the month of May, The Committee instituted in June, 1787, for effecting the Abolition of the Slave Trade. Thus, at the very outset, they took a ground which was for ever tenable. Thus they were enabled also to answer the objection, which was afterwards so constantly and so industriously circulated against them, that they were going to emancipate the slaves. And I have no doubt that this wise decision contributed greatly to their success; for I am persuaded that, if they had adopted the other object, they could not for years to come, if ever, have succeeded in their attempt. Before the committee broke up, I represented to them the necessity there was of obtaining further knowledge on all those individual points which might be said to belong to the great subject of the abolition of the Slave Trade. In the first place, this knowledge was necessary for me, if I were to complete my work on _The Impolicy of this Trade_, which work, the _Summary View_, just printed, had announced to the world. It would be necessary, also, in case the Slave Trade should become a subject of parliamentary inquiry; for this inquiry could not proceed without evidence. And if any time was peculiarly fit for the procuring of such information or evidence, it was the present. At this time the passions of men had not been heated by any public agitation of the question, nor had interest felt itself biassed to conceal the truth. But as soon as ever it should be publicly understood, that a parliamentary inquiry was certain, (which we ourselves believed would be the case, but which interested men did not then know,) we should find many of the avenues to information closed against us. I proposed, therefore, that some one of the committee should undertake a journey to Bristol, Liverpool, and Lancaster, where he should reside for a time to collect further light upon this subject; and that if others should feel their occupations or engagements to be such as would make such a journey unsuitable, I would undertake it myself. I begged, therefore, the favour of the different members of the committee, to turn the matter over in their minds by the next meeting, that we might then talk over and decide upon the propriety of the measure. The committee held its fourth meeting on the 12th of June. Among the subjects which were then brought forward, was that of the journey before mentioned. The propriety, and indeed, even the necessity, of it was so apparent, that I was requested by all present to undertake it, and a minute for that purpose was entered upon our records. Of this journey, as gradually unfolding light on the subject, and as peculiarly connected with the promotion of our object, I shall now give an account; after which I shall return to the proceedings of the committee. CHAPTER XIV. Author arrives at Bristol; introduction to Quaker families there.--Objects of his inquiry.--Ill usage of seamen on board the ship Brothers.--Obtains a knowledge of several articles of African produce.--Dr. Caniplin; Dean Tucker; Mr. Henry Sulgar.--Procures an authenticated account of the treacherous massacre at Calabar.--Ill usage of the seamen of the ship Alfred.--Painful feelings of the author on this occasion. Having made preparations for my journey, I took my leave of the different individuals of the committee. I called upon Mr. Wilberforce, also, with the same design. He was then very ill, and in bed; Sir Richard Hill and others were sitting by his bedside. After conversing as much as he well could in his weak state, he held out his hand to me and wished me success. When I left him I felt much dejected; it appeared to me as if it would be in this case, as it is often in that of other earthly things, that we scarcely possess what we repute a treasure when it is taken from us. I determined to take this journey on horseback, not only on account of the relaxed state in which I found myself, after such close and constant application, but because I wished to have all my time to myself upon the road, in order the better to reflect upon the proper means of promoting this great cause. The first place I resolved to visit was Bristol; accordingly I directed my course thither. On turning a corner, within about a mile of that city, at about eight in the evening, I came within sight of it. The weather was rather hazy, which occasioned it to look of unusual dimensions. The bells of some of the churches were then ringing; the sound of them did not strike me till I had turned the corner before mentioned, when it came upon me at once; it filled me, almost directly, with a melancholy for which I could not account. I began now to tremble, for the first time, at the arduous task I had undertaken, of attempting to subvert one of the branches of the commerce of the great place which was then before me. I began to think of the host of people I should have to encounter in it; I anticipated much persecution in it also; and I questioned whether I should even get out of it alive. But in journeying on I became more calm and composed; my spirits began to return. In these latter moments I considered my first feelings as useful, inasmuch as they impressed upon me the necessity of extraordinary courage, and activity, and perseverance, and of watchfulness, also, over my own conduct, that I might not throw any stain upon the cause I had undertaken. When, therefore, I entered the city, I entered it with an undaunted spirit, determining that no labour should make me shrink, nor danger, nor even persecution, deter me from my pursuit. My first introduction was by means of a letter to Harry Gandy, who had then become one of the religious society of the Quakers. This introduction to him was particularly useful to me; for he had been a seafaring man. In his early youth he had been of a roving disposition; and, in order to see the world, had been two voyages in the Slave Trade, so that he had known the nature and practices of it. This enabled him to give me much useful information on the subject; and as he had frequently felt, as he grew up, deep affliction of mind for having been concerned in it, he was impelled to forward my views as much as possible, under an idea that he should be thus making some reparation for the indiscreet and profane occupations of his youth. I was also introduced to the families of James Harford, John Lury, Matthew Wright, Philip, Debell Tucket, Thomas Bonville, and John Waring; all of whom were of the same religious society. I gained an introduction, also, soon afterwards, to George Fisher. These were my first and only acquaintance at Bristol for some time; I derived assistance in the promotion of my object from all of them; and it is a matter of pleasing reflection, that the friendships then formed have been kept alive to the present time. The objects I had marked down as those to be attended to, were--to ascertain what were the natural productions of Africa, and, if possible, to obtain specimens of them, with the view of forming a cabinet or collection--to procure as much information as I could relative to the manner of obtaining slaves on continent of Africa, of transporting them to the West Indies, and of treating them there--to prevail upon persons, having a knowledge of any or all of these circumstances, to come forward to be examined as evidences before parliament, if such an examination should take place--to make myself still better acquainted with the loss of seamen in the Slave Trade--also with the loss of those who were employed in the other trades from the same port--to know the nature, and quantity, and value of the imports and exports of goods in the former case:--there were some other objects which I classed under the head of miscellaneous. In my first movements about this city, I found that people talked very openly on the subject of the Slave Trade. They seemed to be well acquainted with the various circumstances belonging to it. There were facts, in short, in every body's mouth concerning it; and every body seemed to execrate it, though no one thought of its abolition. In this state of things I perceived that my course was obvious; for I had little else to do, in pursuing two or three of my objects, than to trace the foundation of those reports which were in circulation. On the third of July I heard that the ship Brothers[A], then lying in King's Road for Africa, could not get her seamen, and that a party which had been put on board, becoming terrified by the prospect of their situation, had left her on Sunday morning. On inquiring further, I found that those who had navigated her on her last voyage, thirty-two of whom had died, had been so dreadfully used by the captain, that he could not get hands in the present. It was added, that the treatment of seamen was a crying evil in this trade, and that consequently few would enter into it, so that there was at all times a great difficulty in procuring them, though they were ready enough to enter into other trades. [Footnote A: I abstain from mentioning the names of the captain of this or of other vessels, lest the recording of them should give pain to relatives who can have had no share in their guilt.] The relation of these circumstances made me acquainted with two things, of which I had not before heard; namely, the aversion of seamen to engage, and the bad usage of them when engaged in this cruel trade; into both which I determined immediately to inquire. I conceived that it became me to be very cautious about giving ear too readily to reports; and therefore, as I could easily learn the truth of one of the assertions which had been made to me, I thought it prudent to ascertain this, and to judge, by the discovery I should make concerning it, what degree of credit might be due to the rest. Accordingly, by means of my late friend, Truman Harford, the eldest son of the respectable family of that name, to which I have already mentioned myself to have been introduced, I gained access to the muster-roll of the ship Brothers. On looking over the names of her last crew, I found the melancholy truth confirmed, that thirty-two of them had been placed among the dead. Having ascertained this circumstance, I became eager to inquire into the truth of the others, but more particularly of the treatment of one of the seamen, which, as it was reported to me, exceeded all belief. His name was John Dean; he was a black man, but free. The report was, that for a trifling circumstance, for which he was in no-wise to blame, the captain had fastened him with his belly to the deck, and that, in this situation, he had poured hot pitch upon his back, and made incisions in it with hot tongs. Before however I attempted to learn the truth of this barbarous proceeding, I thought I would look into the ship's muster-roll, to see if I could find the name of such a man. On examination I found it to be the last on the list. John Dean, it appeared, had been one of the original crew, having gone on board, from Bristol, on the twenty-second day of July, 1785. On inquiring where Dean was to be found, my informant told me that he had lately left Bristol for London. I was shown, however, to the house where he had lodged. The name of his landlord was Donovan. On talking with him on the subject, he assured me that the report I had heard was true; for that while he resided with him he had heard an account of his usage from some of his ship-mates, and that he had often looked at his scarred and mutilated back. On inquiring of Donovan if any other person in Bristol could corroborate this account, he referred me to a reputable tradesman living, in the Market-place. Having been introduced to him, he told me that he had long known John Dean to be a sober and industrious man; that he had seen the terrible indentures on his back; and that they were said to have been made by the captain, in the manner related, during his last voyage. While I was investigating this matter further, I was introduced to Mr. Sydenham Teast, a respectable ship-builder in Bristol, and the owner of vessels trading to Africa in the natural productions of that country. I mentioned to him by accident what I had heard relative to the treatment of John Dean. He said it was true. An attorney[A] in London had then taken up his cause, in consequence of which the captain had been prevented from sailing till he could find persons who would be answerable for the damages which might be awarded against him in a court of law. Mr. Teast further said, that, not knowing at that time the cruelty of the transaction to its full extent, he himself had been one of the securities for the captain at the request of the purser[B] of the ship. Finding, however, afterwards, that it was as the public had stated, he was sorry that he had ever interfered, in such a barbarous case. [Footnote A: I afterwards found out this attorney. He described the transaction to me, as, by report, it had taken place, and informed me that he had made the captain of the Brothers pay for his barbarity.] [Footnote B: The purser of a ship, at Bristol, is the person who manages the outfit, as well as the trade, and who is often in part owner of her.] This transaction, which I now believed to be true, had the effect of preparing me for crediting whatever I might hear concerning the barbarities said to be practised in this trade. It kindled also a fire of indignation within me, and produced in me both anxiety and spirit, to proceed. But that which excited these feelings the most, was the consideration that the purser of this ship, knowing, as he did, of this act of cruelty, should have sent out this monster again. This, I own, made me think that there was a system of bad usage to be deliberately practised upon the seamen in this employment, for some purpose or other which I could then neither comprehend nor ascertain. But while I was in pursuit of this one object, I was not unmindful of the others which I had marked out for myself. I had already procured an interview, as I have mentioned, with Mr. Sydenham Teast. I had done this with a view of learning from him what were the different productions of the continent of Africa, as far as he had been able to ascertain from the imports by his own vessels. He was very open and communicative. He had imported ivory, red-wood, cam-wood, and gum-copal. He purposed to import palm-oil. He observed that bees'-wax might be collected, also, upon the coast. Of his gum-copal he gave me a specimen. He furnished me, also, with two different specimens of unknown woods, which had the appearance of being useful. One of his captains, he informed me, had been told by the natives, that cotton, pink in the pod, grew in their country. He was of opinion, that many valuable productions might be found upon this continent. Mr. Biggs, to whom I gained an introduction also, was in a similar trade with Mr. Teast; that is, he had one or two vessels which skimmed, as it were, the coast and rivers for what they could get of the produce of Africa, without having any concern in the trade for slaves. Mr. Biggs gave me a specimen of gum Senegal, of yellow-wood, and of Malaguetta and Cayenne pepper. He gave me, also, small pieces of cloth made and dyed by the natives, the colours of which they could only have obtained from materials in their own country. Mr. Biggs seemed to be assured that, if proper persons were sent to Africa on discovery, they would fine a rich mine of wealth in the natural productions of it, and in none more advantageous to this as a manufacturing nation, than in the many beautiful dyes which it might furnish. From Thomas Bonville I collected two specimens of cloth made by the natives; and from others a beautiful piece of tulipwood, a small piece of wood similar to mahogany, and a sample of fine rice, all of which had been brought from the same continent. Among the persons whom I found out at Bristol, and from whom I derived assistance, were Dr. Camplin and the celebrated Dean Tucker. The former was my warm defender; for the West Indian and African merchants, as soon as they discovered my errand, began to calumniate me. The dean, though in a very advanced age, felt himself much interested in my pursuit. He had long moved in the political world himself, and was desirous of hearing of what was going forward that was new in it, but particularly about so desirable a measure as that of the abolition of the Slave Trade[A]. He introduced me to the Custom House at Bristol. He used to call upon me at the Merchants' Hall, while I was transcribing the muster-rolls of the seamen there. In short, he seemed to be interested in all my movements. He became, also, a warm supporter both of me and of my cause. [Footnote A: Dean Tucker, in his _Reflections on the Disputes between Great Britain and Ireland_, published in 1785, had passed a severe censure on the British planters for the inhuman treatment of their slaves.] Among others who were useful to me in my pursuit, was Mr. Henry Sulgar, an amiable minister of the gospel, belonging to the religious society of the Moravians in the same city. From him I first procured authentic documents relative to the treacherous massacre at Calabar. This cruel transaction had been frequently mentioned to me; but as it had taken place twenty years before, I could not find one person who had been engaged in it, nor could I come, in a satisfactory manner, at the various particulars belonging to it. My friend, however, put me in possession of copies of the real depositions which had been taken in the case of the king against Lippincott and others relative to this event; namely, of Captain Floyd, of the city of Bristol, who had been a witness to the scene, and of Ephraim Robin John, and of Ancona Robin Robin John, two African chiefs, who had been sufferers by it. These depositions had been taken before Jacob Kirby and Thomas Symons, esquires, commissioners at Bristol for taking affidavits in the Court of King's Bench. The tragedy, of which they gave a circumstantial account, I shall present to the reader in as concise a manner as I can. In the year, 1767, the ships Indian Queen, Duke of York, Nancy, and Concord, of Bristol; the Edgar, of Liverpool; and the Canterbury, of London; lay in Old Calabar river. It happened, at this time, that a quarrel subsisted between the principal inhabitants of Old Town and those of New Town, Old Calabar, which had originated in a jealousy respecting slaves. The captains of the vessels now mentioned, joined in sending several letters to the inhabitants of Old Town, but particularly to Ephraim Robin John, who was at that time a grandee, or principal inhabitant of the place. The tenor of these letters was, that they were sorry that any jealousy or quarrel should subsist between the two parties; that if the inhabitants of Old Town would come on board, they would afford them security and protection; adding, at the same time, that their intention in inviting them was, that they might become mediators, and thus heal their disputes. The inhabitants of Old Town, happy to find that their differences were likely to be accommodated, joyfully accepted the invitation. The three brothers of the grandee just mentioned, the eldest of whom was Amboe Robin John, first entered their canoe, attended by twenty-seven others, and, being followed by nine canoes, directed their course to the Indian Queen. They were despatched from thence the next morning to the Edgar, and afterwards to the Duke of York, on board of which they went, leaving their canoe and attendants by the side of the same vessel. In the mean time, the people on board the other canoes were either distributed on board, or lying close to, the other ships. This being the situation of the three brothers, and of the principal inhabitants of the place, the treachery now began to appear. The crew of the Duke of York, aided by the captain and mates, and armed with pistols and cutlasses, rushed into the cabin, with an intent to seize the persons of their three innocent and unsuspicious guests. The unhappy men, alarmed at this violation of the rights of hospitality, and struck with astonishment at the behaviour of their supposed friends, attempted to escape through the cabin windows; but, being wounded, were obliged to desist, and to submit to be put in irons. In the same moment in which this atrocious attempt had been made, an order had been given to fire upon the canoe, which was then lying by the side of the Duke of York. The canoe soon filled and sunk, and the wretched attendants were either seized, killed, or drowned. Most of the other ships followed the example. Great numbers were additionally killed and drowned on the occasion, and others were swimming to the shore. At this juncture, the inhabitants of New Town, who had concealed themselves in the bushes by the water-side, and between whom and the commanders of the vessels the plan had been previously concerted, came out from their hiding-places, and, embarking in their canoes, made for such as were swimming from the fire of the ships. The ships' boats, also, were manned, and joined in the pursuit. They butchered the greatest part of those whom they caught. Many dead bodies were soon seen upon the sands, and others were floating upon the water; and including those who were seized and carried off, and those who were drowned and killed, either by the firing of the ships or by the people of New Town, three hundred were lost to the inhabitants of Old Town on that day. The carnage which I have been now describing was scarcely over, when a canoe, full of the principal people of New Town, who had been the promoters of the scheme, dropped along-side of the Duke of York. They demanded the person of Amboe Robin John, the brother of the grandee of Old Town, and the eldest of the three on board. The unfortunate man put the palms of his hands together, and beseeched the commander of the vessel that he would not violate the rights of hospitality, by giving up an unoffending stranger to his enemies. But no entreaties could avail. The commander received from the New Town people a slave of the name of Econg in his stead, and then forced him into the canoe, where his head was immediately struck off in the sight of the crew, and of his afflicted and disconsolate brothers. As for them, they escaped his fate; but they were carried off with their attendants to the West Indies, and sold for slaves. The knowledge of this tragical event now fully confirmed me in the sentiment, that the hearts of those who were concerned in this traffic became unusually hardened, and that I might readily believe any atrocities, however great, which might be related of them. It made also my blood boil, as it were, within me: it gave anew spring to my exertions; and I rejoiced, sorrowful as I otherwise was, that I had visited Bristol, if it had been only to gain an accurate statement of this one fact. In pursuing my objects, I found that reports were current, that the crew of the Alfred slave-vessel, which had just returned, had been barbarously used, but particularly a young man of the name of Thomas, who had served as the surgeon's mate on board her. The report was, that he had been repeatedly knocked down by the captain; that he had become in consequence of his ill usage so weary of his life, that he had three times jumped over board to destroy it; that on being taken up the last time he had been chained to the deck of the ship, in which situation he had remained night and day for some time; that in consequence of this his health had been greatly impaired; and that it was supposed he could not long survive this treatment. It was with great difficulty, notwithstanding all my inquiries, that I could trace this person. I discovered him, however, at last. He was confined to his bed when I saw him, and appeared to me to be delirious. I could collect nothing from himself relative to the particulars of his treatment. In his intervals of sense, he exclaimed against the cruelty both of the captain and of the chief mate, and pointing to his legs, thighs, and body, which were all wrapped up in flannel, he endeavoured to convince me how much he had suffered there. At one time he said he forgave them. At another, he asked if I came to befriend him. At another, he looked wildly, and asked if I meant to take the captain's part, and to kill him. I was greatly affected by the situation of this poor man, whose image haunted me both night and day, and I was meditating how most effectually to assist him, when I heard that he was dead. I was very desirous of tracing something further on this subject, when Walter Chandler, of the society of the Quakers, who had been daily looking out for intelligence for me, brought a young man to me of the name of Dixon. He had been one of the crew of the same ship. He told me the particulars of the treatment of Thomas, with very little variation from those contained in the public report. After cross-examining him in the best manner I was able, I could find no inconsistency in his account. I asked Dixon how the captain came to treat the surgeon's mate in particular so ill. He said he had treated them all much alike. A person of the name of Bulpin, he believed, was the only one who had escaped bad usage in the ship. With respect to himself, he had been cruelly used so early as in the outward bound passage, which had occasioned him to jump overboard. When taken up, he was put into irons, and kept in these for a considerable time. He was afterwards ill used at different times, and even so late as within three or four days of his return to port. For just before the Alfred made the island of Lundy, he was struck by the captain, who cut his under lip into two. He said that it had bled so much, that the captain expressed himself as if much alarmed; and having the expectation of arriving soon at Bristol, he had promised to make him amends, if he would hold his peace. This he said he had hitherto done, but he had received no recompense. In confirmation of his own usage, he desired me to examine his lip, which I had no occasion to do, having already perceived it, for the wound was apparently almost fresh. I asked Dixon if there was any person in Bristol beside himself, who could confirm to me this his own treatment, as well as that of the other unfortunate man who was now dead. He referred me to a seaman of the name of Matthew Pyke. This person, when brought to me, not only related readily the particulars of the usage in both cases, as I have now stated them, but that which he received himself. He said that his own arm had been broken by the chief mate in Black River, Jamaica, and that he had also by the captain's orders, though contrary to the practice in merchant-vessels, been severely flogged. His arm appeared to be then in pain; and I had a proof of the punishment by an inspection of his back. I asked Matthew Pyke if the crew in general had been treated in a cruel manner. He replied they had, except James Bulpin. I then asked where James Bulpin was to be found. He told me where he had lodged; but feared he had gone home to his friends in Somersetshire, I think, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bridgewater. I thought it prudent to institute an inquiry into the characters of Thomas, Dixon, and Matthew Pyke, before I went further. The two former I found were strangers in Bristol, and I could collect nothing about them. The latter was a native of the place, had served his time as a seaman from the port, and was reputed of fair character. My next business was to see James Bulpin. I found him just setting off for the country. He stopped, however, to converse with me. He was a young man of very respectable appearance, and of mild manners. His appearance, indeed, gave me reason to hope that I might depend upon his statements; but I was most of all influenced by the consideration that, never having been ill-used himself, he could have no inducement to go beyond the bounds of truth on this occasion. He gave me a melancholy confirmation of all the three cases. He told me, also, that one Joseph Cunningham had been a severe sufferer, and that there was reason to fear that Charles Horseler, another of the crew, had been so severely beaten over the breast with a knotted end of a rope, (which end was of the size of a large ball, and had been made on purpose,) that he died of it. To this he added, that it was now a notorious fact, that the captain of the Alfred, when mate of a slave-ship, had been tried at Barbados for the murder of one of the crew with whom he had sailed, but that he escaped by bribing the principal witness to disappear[A]. [Footnote A: Mr. Sampson, who was surgeon's mate of the ship in which the captain had thus served as a mate, confirmed to me afterwards this assertion, having often heard him boast in the cabin, "how he had tricked the law on that occasion."] The reader will see, the further I went into the history of this voyage, the more dismal it became. One miserable account, when examined, only brought up another. I saw no end to inquiry. The great question was, what was I to do? I thought the best thing would be to get the captain apprehended, and make him stand his trial either for the murder of Thomas or of Charles Horseler. I communicated with the late Mr. Burges, an eminent attorney, and the deputy town-clerk, on this occasion. He had shown an attachment to me on account of the cause I had undertaken, and had given me privately assistance in it. I say privately; because, knowing the sentiments of many of the corporate body at Bristol, under whom he acted, he was fearful of coming forward in an open manner. His advice to me was, to take notes of the case for my own private conviction, but to take no public cognizance of it. He said that seamen, as soon as their wages were expended, must be off to sea again. They could not generally, as landsmen do, maintain themselves on shore. Hence I should be obliged to keep the whole crew at my own expense till the day of trial, which might not be for months to come. He doubted not that, in the interim, the merchants and others would inveigle many of them away by making them boatswains and other inferior officers in some of their ships; so that, when the day of trial should come, I should find my witnesses dispersed and gone. He observed, moreover, that if any of the officers of the ship had any notion of going out again under the same owners[A], I should have all these against me. To which he added, that if I were to make a point of taking up the cause of those whom I found complaining of hard usage in this trade, I must take up that of nearly all who sailed in it; for that he only knew of one captain from the port in the Slave Trade, who did not deserve long ago to be hanged. Hence I should get into a labyrinth of expense, and difficulty, and uneasiness of mind, from whence I should not easily find a clew to guide me. [Footnote A: The seamen of the Alfred informed the purser of their ill usage, Matthew Pyke not only showed him his arm and his back, but acquainted him with the murder of Charles Horseler, stating that he had the instrument of his death in his possession. The purser seemed more alive to this than to any other circumstance, and wished to get it from him. Pyke, however, had given it to me. Now what will the reader think, when he is informed that the purser, after all this knowledge of the captain's cruelty, sent him out again, and that he was the same person who was purser of the Brothers, and who had also sent out the captain of that ship a second time, as has been related, notwithstanding his barbarities in former voyages!] This advice, though it was judicious, and founded on a knowledge of law proceedings, I found it very difficult to adopt. My own disposition was naturally such, that whatever I engaged in I followed with more than ordinary warmth. I could not be supposed, therefore, affected and interested as I then was, to be cool and tranquil on this occasion. And yet what would my worthy friend have said, if in this first instance I had opposed him? I had a very severe struggle in my own feelings on this account. At length, though reluctantly, I obeyed; but as the passions which agitate the human mind, when it is greatly inflamed, must have a vent somewhere, or must work off, as it were, or in working together must produce some new passion or effect, so I found the rage which had been kindling within me subsiding into the most determined resolutions of future increased activity and perseverance. I began now to think that the day was not long enough for me to labour in. I regretted often the approach of night, which suspended my work, and I often welcomed that of the morning, which restored me to it. When I felt myself weary, I became refreshed by the thought of what I was doing; when disconsolate, I was comforted by it. I lived in hope that every day's labour would furnish me with that knowledge which would bring this evil nearer to its end; and I worked on under these feelings, regarding neither trouble nor danger in the pursuit. CHAPTER XV. Author confers with the inhabitants of Bridgewater relative to a petition to parliament in behalf of the abolition; returns to Bristol; discovers a scandalous mode of procuring seamen for the Slave Trade, and of paying them; makes a comparative view of their loss in this and in other trades; procures imports and exports.--Examines the construction and admeasurement of slave ships; of the Fly and Neptune.--Difficulty of procuring evidence.--Case of Gardiner, of the Pilgrim; of Arnold, of the Ruby; some particulars of the latter in his former voyages. Having heard by accident that the inhabitants of the town of Bridgewater had sent a petition to the House of Commons, in the year 1785, for the abolition of the Slave Trade, as has been related in a former part of the work, I determined, while my feelings were warm, to go there, and to try to find out those who had been concerned in it, and to confer with them as the tried friends of the cause. The time seemed to me to be approaching when the public voice should be raised against this enormous evil. I was sure that it was only necessary for the inhabitants of this favoured island to know it to feel a just indignation against it. Accordingly I set off. My friend George Fisher, who was before mentioned to have been of the religious Society of the Quakers, gave me an introduction to the respectable family of Ball, which was of the same religious persuasion. I called upon Mr. Sealey, Anstice, Crandon, Chubb, and others. I laid open to those whom I saw, the discoveries I had made relative to the loss and ill treatment of seamen; at which they seemed to be much moved; and it was agreed that if it should be thought a proper measure, (of which I would inform them when I had consulted the committee,) a second petition should be sent to Parliament from the inhabitants, praying for the abolition of the Slave Trade. With this view I left them several of my _Summary View_, before mentioned, to distribute, that the inhabitants might know more particularly the nature of the evil, against which they were going to complain. On my return to Bristol, I determined to inquire into the truth of the reports that seamen had an aversion to enter, and that they were inveigled, if not often forced, into this hateful employment. For this purpose I was introduced to a landlord of the name of Thompson, who kept a public-house called the Seven Stars. He was a very intelligent man, was accustomed to receive sailors when discharged at the end of their voyages, and to board them till their vessels went out again, or to find them births in others. He avoided, however, all connexion with the Slave Trade, declaring that the credit of his house would be ruined if he were known to send those, who put themselves under his care, into it. From him I collected the truth of all that had been stated to me on this subject. But I told him I should not be satisfied until I had beheld those scenes myself which he had described to me; and I entreated him to take me into them, saying that I would reward him for all his time and trouble, and that I would never forget him while I lived. To this he consented; and as three or four slave-vessels at this time were preparing for their voyages, it was time that we should begin our rounds. At about twelve at night we generally set out, and were employed till two and sometimes three in the morning. He led me from one of these public-houses to another which the mates of the slave-vessels used to frequent to pick up their hands. These houses were in Marsh-street, and most of them were then kept by Irishmen. The scenes witnessed in these houses were truly distressing to me; and yet, if I wished to know practically what I had purposed, I could not avoid them. Music, dancing, rioting, drunkenness, and profane swearing, were kept up from night to night. The young mariner, if a stranger to the port, and unacquainted with the nature of the Slave Trade, was sure to be picked up. The novelty of the voyages, the superiority of the wages in this over any other trades, and the privileges of various kinds, were set before him. Gulled in this manner, he was frequently enticed to the boat, which was waiting to carry him away. If these prospects did not attract him, he was plied with liquor till he became intoxicated, when a bargain was made over him between the landlord and the mate. After this his senses were kept in such a constant state of stupefaction by the liquor, that in time the former might do with him what he pleased. Seamen, also, were boarded in these houses, who, when the slave-ships were going out, but at no other time, were encouraged to spend more than they had money to pay for; and to these, when they had thus exceeded, but one alternative was given, namely, a slave-vessel or a gaol. These distressing scenes I found myself obliged frequently to witness, for I was no less than nineteen times occupied in making these hateful rounds; and I can say from my own experience, and all the information I could collect from Thompson and others, that no such practices were in use to obtain seamen for other trades. The treatment of the seamen employed in the Slave Trade had so deeply interested me, and now the manner of procuring them, that I was determined to make myself acquainted with their whole history; for I found by report that they were not only personally ill-treated, as I have already painfully described, but that they were robbed by artifice of those wages, which had been held up to them as so superior in this service. All persons were obliged to sign articles that, in case they should die or be discharged during the voyage, the wages then due to them should be paid in the currency where the vessel carried her slaves, and that half of the wages due to them on their arrival there should be paid in the same manner, and that they were never permitted to read over the articles they had signed. By means of this iniquitous practice the wages in the Slave Trade, though nominally higher in order to induce seamen to engage in it, were actually lower than in other trades. All these usages I ascertained in such a manner, that no person could doubt the truth of them. I actually obtained possession of articles of agreement belonging to these vessels, which had been signed and executed in former voyages. I made the merchants themselves, by sending those seamen who had claims upon them to ask for their accounts current with their respective ships, furnish me with such documents as would have been evidence against them in any court of law. On whatever branch of the system I turned my eyes, I found it equally barbarous. The trade was, in short, one mass of iniquity from the beginning to the end. I employed myself occasionally in the Merchant's-hall, in making copies of the muster-rolls of ships sailing to different parts of the world, that I might make a comparative view of the loss of seamen in the Slave Trade, with that of those in the other trades from the same port. The result of this employment showed me the importance of it: for, when I considered how partial the inhabitants of this country were to their fellow-citizens, the seamen belonging to it, and in what estimation the members of the legislature held them, by enforcing the Navigation Act, which they considered to be the bulwark of the nation, and by giving bounties to certain trades, that these might become so many nurseries for the marine, I thought it of great importance, to be able to prove, as I was then capable of doing, that more persons would be found dead in three slave-vessels from Bristol, in a given time, than in all the other vessels put together, numerous as they were, belonging to the same port. I procured also an account of the exports and imports for the year 1786, by means of which I was enabled to judge of the comparative value of this and the other trades. In pursuing another object, which was that of going on board the slave-ships, and learning their construction and dimensions, I was greatly struck, and indeed affected, by the appearance of two little sloops, which were fitting out for Africa, the one of only twenty-five tons, which was said to be destined to carry seventy and the other of only eleven, which was said to be destined to carry thirty slaves. I was told also that which was more affecting, namely, that these were not to act as tenders on the coast, by going up and down the rivers, and receiving three or four slaves at a time, and then carrying them to a large ship, which was to take them to the West Indies; but that it was actually intended, that they should transport their own slaves themselves; that one if not both of them were, on their arrival in the West Indies, to be sold as pleasure-vessels, and that the seamen belonging to them were to be permitted to come home by what is usually called the run. This account of the destination of these little vessels, though it was distressing at first, appeared to me afterwards, on cool reasoning, to be incredible. I thought that my informants wished to impose upon me, in order that I might make statements which would carry their own refutation with them, and that thus I might injure the great cause which I had undertaken. And I was much inclined to be of this opinion, when I looked again at the least of the two; for any person, who was tall, standing upon dry ground by the side of her, might have overlooked every thing upon her deck. I knew also that she had been built as a pleasure-boat for the accommodation of only six persons upon the Severn. I determined, therefore, to suspend my belief till I could take the admeasurement of each vessel. This I did; but lest, in the agitation of my mind on this occasion, I should have made any mistake, I desired my friend George Fisher to apply to the builder for his admeasurement also. With this he kindly complied. When he obtained it he brought it me. This account, which nearly corresponded with my own, was as follows:--In the vessel of twenty-five tons, the length of the upper part of the hold, or roof of the room, where the seventy slaves were to be stowed, was but little better than ten yards, or thirty-one feet. The greatest breadth of the bottom, or floor, was ten feet four inches; and the least five. Hence, a grown person must sit down all the voyage, and contract his limbs within the narrow limits of three square feet. In the vessel of eleven tons, the length of the room for the thirty slaves was twenty-two feet. The greatest breadth of the floor was eight, and the least four. The whole height from the keel to the beam was but five feet eight inches, three feet of which were occupied by ballast, cargo, and provisions, so that two feet eight inches remained only as the height between the decks. Hence, each slave would have only four square feet to sit in, and, when in this posture, his head, if he were a full-grown person, would touch the ceiling, or upper deck. Having now received this admeasurement from the builder, which was rather more favourable than my own, I looked upon the destination of these little vessels as yet more incredible than before. Still the different persons, whom I occasionally saw on board them, persisted in it that they were going to Africa for slaves, and also for the numbers mentioned, which they were afterwards to carry to the West Indies themselves. I desired, however, my friends, George Fisher, Truman Harford, Harry Gandy, Walter Chandler, and others, each to make a separate inquiry for me on this subject; and they all agreed that, improbable as the account both of their destination, and of the number they were to take, might appear, they had found it to be too true. I had soon afterwards the sorrow to learn from official documents from the Custom-house, that these little vessels actually cleared out for Africa, and that now nothing could be related so barbarous of this traffic, which might not instantly be believed. In pursuing my different objects there was one, which, to my great vexation, I found it extremely difficult to attain. This was the procuring of any assurance from those who had been personally acquainted with the horrors of this trade, that they would appear, if called upon, as evidence against it. My friend Harry Gandy, to whom I had been first introduced, had been two voyages, as I before mentioned; and he was willing, though at an advanced age, to go to London, to state publicly all he knew concerning them. But with respect to the many others in Bristol, who had been to the coast of Africa, I had not yet found one who would come forward for this purpose. There were several old Slave Captains living there, who had a great knowledge of the subject. I thought it not unreasonable that I might gain one or two good evidences out of these, as they had probably long ago left the concern, and were not now interested in the continuance of it; but all my endeavours were fruitless. I sent messages to them by different persons. I met them in all ways. I stated to them, that if there was nothing objectionable in the trade, seeing it laboured under such a stigma, they had an opportunity of coming forward and of wiping away the stain. If, on the other hand, it was as bad as represented, then they had it in their power, by detailing the crimes which attached to it, of making some reparation or atonement, for the part they had taken in it. But no representations would do. All intercourse was positively forbidden between us; and whenever they met me in the street, they shunned me as if I had been a mad dog. I could not for some time account, for the strange disposition which they thus manifested towards me; but my friends helped me to unravel it, for I was assured that one or two of them, though they went no longer to Africa as captains, were in part owners of vessels trading there; and, with respect to all of them, it might be generally said, that they had been guilty of such enormities, that they would be afraid of coming forward in the way I proposed, lest any thing should come out by which they might criminate themselves. I was obliged then to give up all hope of getting any evidence from this quarter, and I saw but little prospect of getting it from those, who were then actually deriving their livelihood from the trade: and yet I was determined to persevere; for I thought that some might be found in it who were not yet so hardened as to be incapable of being awakened on this subject. I thought that others might be found in it who wished to leave it upon principle, and that these would unbosom themselves to me: and I thought it not improbable that I might fall in with others, who had come unexpectedly into a state of independence, and that these might be induced, as their livelihood would be no longer affected by giving me information, to speak the truth. I persevered for weeks together under this hope, but could find no one of all those, who had been applied to, who would have any thing to say to me. At length, Walter Chandler had prevailed upon a young gentleman, of the name of Gardiner, who was going out as surgeon of the Pilgrim, to meet me. The condition was, that we were to meet at the house of the former, but that we were to enter in and go out at different times, that is, we were not to be seen together. Gardiner, on being introduced to me, said at once, that he had often wished to see me on the subject of my errand, but that the owner of the Pilgrim had pointed me out to him as a person whom he would wish him to avoid. He then laid open to me the different methods of obtaining slaves in Africa, as he had learned from those on board his own vessel in his first, or former, voyage. He unfolded also the manner of their treatment in the Middle passage, with the various distressing scenes which had occurred in it. He stated the barbarous usuage of the seamen as he had witnessed it, and concluded by saying, that there never was a subject which demanded so loudly the interference of the legislature as that of the Slave Trade. When he had finished his narrative, and answered the different questions which I had proposed to him concerning it, I asked him, in as delicate a manner as I could, how it happened, that, seeing the trade in this horrible light, he had consented to follow it again? He told me frankly, that he had received a regular medical education, but that his relations, being poor, had not been able to set him up in his profession. He had saved a little money in his last voyage. In that, which he was now to perform, he hoped to save a little more. With the profits of both voyages together, he expected he should be able to furnish a shop in the line of his profession, when he would wipe his hands of this detestable trade. I then asked him, whether, upon the whole, he thought he had judged prudently, or whether the prospect of thus enabling himself to become independent, would counterbalance the uneasiness which might arise in future? He replied, that he had not so much to fear upon this account. The trade, while it continued, must have surgeons. But it made a great difference both to the crew and to the slaves, whether these discharged their duty towards them in a feeling manner, or not. With respect to himself, he was sure that he should pay every attention to the wants of each. This thought made his continuance in the trade for one voyage longer more reconcilable. But he added, as if not quite satisfied, "Cruel necessity!" and he fetched a deep sigh. We took our leave, and departed, the one a few minutes after the other. The conversation of this young man was very interesting. I was much impressed both by the nature and the manner of it. I wished to secure him, if possible, as an evidence for parliament, and thus save him from his approaching voyage: but I knew not what to do. At first, I thought it would be easy to raise a subscription to set him up. But then, I was aware that this might be considered as bribery, and make his testimony worth nothing. I then thought that the committee might detain him as an evidence, and pay him, in a reasonable manner, for his sustenance, till his testimony should be called for. But I did not know how long it would be before his examination might take place. It might be a year or two. I foresaw other difficulties also and I was obliged to relinquish what otherwise I should have deemed a prize. On reviewing the conversation which had passed between us after my return home, I thought, considering the friendly disposition of Gardiner towards us, I had not done all I could for the cause; and, communicating my feelings to Walter Chandler, he procured me another interview. At this, I asked him, if he would become an evidence if he lived to return. He replied, very heartily, that he would. I then asked him, if he would keep a journal of facts during his voyage, as it would enable him to speak more correctly, in case he should be called upon for his testimony. He assured me he would, and that he would make up a little book for that purpose. I asked him, lastly, when he meant to sail. He said, as soon as the ship could get all her hands. It was their intention to sail to-morrow, but that seven men, whom the mates had brought drunk out of Marsh-street the evening before, were so terrified when they found they were going to Africa, that they had seized the boat that morning, and had put themselves on shore. I took my leave of him, entreating him to follow his resolutions of kindness both to the sailors and the slaves, and wished him a speedy and a safe return. On going one day by the Exchange, after this interview with Gardiner, I overheard a young gentleman say to another, "that it happened on the coast, last year, and that he saw it." I wished to know who he was, and to get at him if I could. I watched him at a distance for more than half an hour, when I saw him leave his companion. I followed him till he entered a house. I then considered whether it would be proper, and in what manner, to address him when he should come out of it. But I waited three hours, and I never saw him. I then concluded that he either lodged where I saw him enter, or that he had gone to dine with some friend. I therefore took notice of the house, and, showing it afterwards to several of my friends, desired them to make him out for me. In a day or two I had an interview with him. His name was James Arnold. He had been two voyages to the coast of Africa for slaves; one as a surgeon's mate in the Alexander, in the year 1785, and the other as surgeon in the Little Pearl, in the year 1786, from which he had not then very long returned. I asked him if he was willing to give me any account of these voyages, for that I was making an inquiry into the nature of the Slave Trade. He replied, he knew that I was. He had been cautioned about falling in with me; he had, however, taken no pains to avoid me. It was a bad trade, and ought to be exposed. I went over the same ground as I had gone with Gardiner relative to the first of these voyages; or that in the Alexander. It is not necessary to detail the particulars. It is impossible, however, not to mention, that the treatment of the seamen on board this vessel was worse than I had ever before heard of. No less than eleven of them; unable to bear their lives; had deserted at Bonny, on the coast of Africa,--which is a most unusual thing,--choosing all that could be endured, though in a most inhospitable climate, and in the power of the natives, rather than to continue in their own ship. Nine others also, in addition to the loss of these, had died in the same voyage. As to the rest; he believed, without any exception, that they had been badly used. In examining him with respect to his second voyage, or that in the Little Pearl, two circumstances came out with respect to the slaves, which I shall relate in few words. The chief mate used to beat the men-slaves on very trifling occasions. About eleven one evening, the ship then lying off the coast, he heard a noise in their room. He jumped down among them with the lanthorn in his hand. Two of those who had been ill-used by him, forced themselves out of their irons, and, seizing him, struck him with the bolt of them, and it was with some difficulty that he was extricated from them by the crew. The men-slaves, unable now to punish him, and finding they had created an alarm, began to proceed to extremities. They endeavoured to force themselves up the gratings, and to pull down a partition which had been made for a sick-birth; when they were fired upon and repressed. The next morning they were brought up one by one; when it appeared that a boy had been killed, who was afterwards thrown into the sea. The two men, however, who had forced themselves out of irons, did not come up with the rest, but found their way into the hold, and armed themselves with knives from a cask, which had been opened for trade. One of them being called to in the African tongue by a black trader, who was then on board, came up, but with a knife in each hand; when one of the crew, supposing him yet hostile, shot him in the right side and killed him on the spot. The other remained in the hold for twelve hours. Scalding water mixed with fat was poured down upon him, to make him come up. Though his flesh was painfully blistered by these means, he kept below. A promise was then made to him in the African tongue by the same trader, that no injury should be done him if he would come among them. To this at length he consented; but on observing, when he was about half way up, that a sailor was armed between decks, he flew to him, and clasped him, and threw him down. The sailor fired his pistol in the scuffle, but without effect; he contrived, however, to fracture his skull with the butt end of it, so that the slave died on the third day. The second circumstance took place after the arrival of the same vessel at St. Vincent's. There was a boy-slave on board, who was very ill and emaciated. The mate, who, by his cruelty, had been the author of the former mischief, did not choose to expose him to sale with the rest, lest the small sum he would fetch in that situation should lower the average price, and thus bring down[A] the value of the privileges of the officers of the ship. This boy was kept on board, and no provisions allowed him. [Footnote A: Officers are said to be allowed the privilege of one or more slaves, according to their rank. When the cargo is sold, the sum total fetched is put down, and this being divided by the number of slaves sold, gives the average price of each. Such officers, then, receive this average price for one or more slaves, according to their privileges, but never the slaves themselves.] The mate had suggested the propriety of throwing him overboard, but no one would do it. On the ninth day he expired, having never been allowed any sustenance during that time. I asked Mr. Arnold if he was willing to give evidence of these facts in both cases. He said he had only one objection, which was, that in two or three days he was to go in the Ruby on his third voyage: but on leaving me, he said, that he would take an affidavit before the mayor of the truth of any of those things which he had related to me, if that would do; but, from motives of safety, he should not choose to do this till within a few hours before he sailed. In two or three days after this he sent for me; he said the Ruby would leave King-road the next day, and that he was ready to do as he had promised. Depositions were accordingly made out from his own words. I went with him to the residence of George Daubeny, Esq., who was then chief magistrate of the city, and they were sworn to in his presence, and witnessed as the law requires. On taking my leave of him, I asked him how he could go a third time in such a barbarous employ; he said he had been distressed. In his voyage in the Alexander he had made nothing; for he had been so ill-used, that he had solicited his discharge in Grenada, where, being paid in currency, he had but little to receive. When he arrived in Bristol from that island, he was quite penniless; and finding the Little Pearl going out, he was glad to get on board her as her surgeon, which he then did entirely for the sake of bread. He said, moreover, that she was but a small vessel, and that his savings had been but small in her. This occasioned him to apply for the Ruby, his present ship; but if he survived this voyage he would never go another. I then put the same question to him as to Gardiner, and he promised to keep a journal of facts, and to give his evidence, if called upon, on his return. The reader will see, from this account, the difficulty I had in procuring evidence from this port. The owners of vessels employed in the trade there forbade all intercourse with me; the old captains, who had made their fortunes in it, would not see me; the young, who were making them, could not be supposed to espouse my cause, to the detriment of their own interest. Of those whose necessities made them go into it for a livelihood, I could not get one to come forward, without doing so much for him as would have amounted to bribery. Thus, when I got one of these into my possession, I was obliged to let him go again. I was, however, greatly consoled by the consideration, that I had procured two sentinels to be stationed in the enemy's camp, who keeping a journal of different facts, would bring me some important intelligence at a future period. CHAPTER XVI. Author goes to Monmouth; confers relative to a petition from that place; returns to Bristol; is introduced to Alexander Falconbridge; takes one of the mates of the Africa out of that ship; visits disabled seamen from the ship Thomas; puts a chief mate into prison for the murder of William Lines.--Ill-usage of seamen in various other slave-vessels; secures Crutwell's Bath paper in favour of the abolition; lays the foundation of a committee at Bristol; and of a petition from thence also; takes his leave of that city. By this time I began to feel the effect of my labours upon my constitution. It had been my practice to go home in the evening to my lodgings, about twelve o'clock, and then to put down the occurrences of the day. This usually kept me up till one, and sometimes till nearly two in the morning. When I went my rounds in Marsh-street, I seldom got home till two, and into bed till three. My clothes, also, were frequently wet through with the rains. The cruel accounts I was daily in the habit of hearing, both with respect to the slaves, and to the seamen employed in this wicked trade, from which, indeed, my mind had no respite, often broke my sleep in the night, and occasioned me to awake in an agitated state. All these circumstances concurred in affecting my health; I looked thin; my countenance became yellow; I had also rheumatic feelings. My friends, seeing this, prevailed upon me to give myself two or three days' relaxation; and as a gentleman, of whom I had some knowledge, was going into Carmarthenshire, I accompanied him as far as Monmouth. After our parting at this place, I became restless and uneasy, and longed to get back to my work. I thought, however, my journey ought not to be wholly useless to the cause; and hearing that Dr. Davis, a clergyman at Monmouth, was a man of considerable weight among the inhabitants, I took the liberty of writing him a letter, in which I stated who I was and the way in which I had lately employed myself, and the great wish I had to be favoured with an interview with him; and I did not conceal that it would be very desirable, if the inhabitants of the place could have that information on the subject which would warrant them in so doing, that they should petition the legislature for the abolition of the Slave Trade. Dr. Davis returned me an answer, and received me. The questions which he put to me were judicious. He asked me, first, whether, if the slaves were emancipated, there would not be much confusion in the islands? I told him that the emancipation of them was no part of our plan; we solicited nothing but the stopping of all future importations of them into the islands. He then asked what the planters would do for labourers? I replied, they would find sufficient from an increase of the native population, if they were obliged to pay attention to the latter means. We discoursed a long time upon this last topic. I have not room to give the many other questions he proposed to me: no one was ever more judiciously questioned. In my turn, I put him into possession of all the discoveries I had made. He acknowledged the injustice of the trade; he confessed, also, that my conversation had enlightened him as to the impolicy of it; and, taking some of my _Summary View_ to distribute, he said he hoped that the inhabitants would, after the perusal of them, accede to my request. On my return to Bristol, my friends had procured for me an interview with Mr. Alexander Falconbridge, who had been to the coast of Africa, as a surgeon, for four voyages; one in the Tartar, another in the Alexander, and two in the Emilia slave-vessels. On my introduction to him, I asked him if he had any objection to give me an account of the cruelties which were said to be connected with the Slave Trade; he answered, without any reserve, that he had not; for that he had now done with it. Never were any words more welcome to my ears than these: "Yes--I have done with the trade;"--and he said, also, that he was free to give me information concerning it. Was he not then one of the very persons, whom I had so long been seeking, but in vain? To detail the accounts which he gave me at this and at subsequent interviews, relative to the different branches of this trade, would fill no ordinary volume. Suffice it to say, in general terms, as far as relates to the slaves, that he confirmed the various violent and treacherous methods of procuring them in their own country; their wretched condition, in consequence of being crowded together in the passage; their attempts to rise in defence of their own freedom, and, when this was impracticable, to destroy themselves by the refusal of sustenance, by jumping overboard into the sea, and in other ways; the effect also of their situation upon their minds, by producing insanity and various diseases; and the cruel manner of disposing of them in the West Indies, and of separating relatives and friends. With respect to the seamen employed in this trade, he commended Captain Frazer for his kind usage to them, under whom he had so long served. The handsome way in which he spoke of the latter pleased me much, because I was willing to deduce from it his own impartiality, and because I thought I might infer from it, also, his regard to truth as to other parts of his narrative. Indeed I had been before acquainted with this circumstance. Thompson, of the Seven Stars, had informed me that Frazer was the only man sailing out of that port for slaves who had not been guilty of cruelty to his seamen: and Mr. Burges alluded to it, when he gave me advice not to proceed against the captain of the Alfred; for he then said, as I mentioned in a former chapter, "that he knew but one captain in the trade, who did not deserve long ago to be hanged." Mr. Falconbridge, however, stated, that though he had been thus fortunate in the Tartar and Emilia, he had been as unfortunate in the Alexander; for he believed there were no instances upon naval record, taken altogether, of greater barbarity, than of that which had been exercised towards the seamen in this voyage. In running over these, it struck me that I had heard of the same from some other quarter, or at least that these were so like the others, that I was surprised at their coincidence. On taking out my notes, I looked for the names of those whom I recollected to have been used in this manner; and on desiring Mr. Falconbridge to mention the names of those, also, to whom he alluded, they turned out to be the same. The mystery, however, was soon cleared up, when I told him from whom I had received my intelligence: for Mr. Arnold, the last-mentioned person in the last chapter, had been surgeon's mate under Mr. Falconbridge in the same vessel. There was one circumstance of peculiar importance, but quite new to me, which I collected from the information which Mr. Falconbridge had given me. This was, that many of the seamen, who left the slave-ships in the West Indies, were in such a weak, ulcerated, and otherwise diseased state, that they perished there. Several, also, of those who came home with the vessels were in the same deplorable condition. This was the case, Mr. Falconbridge said, with some who returned in the Alexander. It was the case, also, with many others; for he had been a pupil for twelve months in the Bristol Infirmary, and had had ample means of knowing the fact. The greatest number of seamen, at almost all times, who were there, were from the slave-vessels. These, too, were usually there on account of disease, whereas those from other ships were usually there on account of accidents. The health of some of the former was so far destroyed, that they were never wholly to be restored. This information was of great importance; for it showed that they who were reported dead upon the muster-rolls, were not all that were lost to the country by the prosecution of this wicked trade. Indeed, it was of so much importance, that in all my future interviews with others, which were for the purpose of collecting evidence, I never forgot to make it a subject of inquiry. I can hardly say how precious I considered the facts with which Mr. Falconbridge had furnished me from his own experience, relative to the different branches of this commerce. They were so precious, that I began now to be troubled lest I should lose them. For, though he had thus privately unbosomed himself to me, it did not follow that he would come forward as a public evidence. I was not a little uneasy on this account. I was fearful lest, when I should put this question to him, his future plan of life, or some little narrow consideration of future interest, would prevent him from giving his testimony, and I delayed asking him for many days. During this time, however, I frequently visited him; and at length, when I thought I was better acquainted, and probably in some little estimation, with him, I ventured to open my wishes on this subject. He answered me boldly, and at once, that he had left the trade upon principle, and that he would state all he knew concerning it, either publicly or privately, and at any time when he should be called upon to do it. This answer produced such an effect upon me, after all my former disappointments, that I felt it all over my frame. It operated like a sudden shock, which often disables the impressed person for a time. So the joy I felt rendered me quite useless, as to business, for the remainder of the day. I began to perceive in a little time the advantage of having cultivated an acquaintance with Thompson of the Seven Stars. For nothing could now pass in Bristol, relative to the seamen employed in this trade, but it was soon brought to me. If there was anything amiss, I had so arranged matters that I was sure to hear of it. He sent for me one day to inform me that several of the seamen, who had been sent out of Marsh Street into the Prince, which was then at Kingroad, and on the point of sailing to Africa for slaves, had, through fear of ill usage on the voyage, taken the boat and put themselves on shore. He informed me, at the same time, that the seamen of the Africa, which was lying there also, and ready to sail on a like voyage, were not satisfied, for that they had been made to sign their articles of agreement without being permitted to see them. To this he added, that Mr. Sheriff, one of the mates of the latter vessel, was unhappy, also, on this account. Sheriff had been a mate in the West India trade, and was a respectable man in his line. He had been enticed by the captain of the Africa, under the promise of peculiar advantages, to change his voyage. Having a wife and family at Bristol, he was willing to make a sacrifice on their account: but when he himself was not permitted to read the articles, he began to suspect bad work, and that there would be nothing but misery in the approaching voyage. Thompson entreated me to extricate him if I could. He was sure, he said, if he went to the coast with that man, meaning the captain, that he would never return alive. I was very unwilling to refuse anything to Thompson. I was deeply bound to him in gratitude for the many services he had rendered me, but I scarcely saw how I could serve him on this occasion. I promised, however, to speak to him in an hour's time. I consulted my friend Truman Harford in the interim; and the result was, that he and I should proceed to Kingroad in a boat, go on board the Africa, and charge the captain in person with what he had done, and desire him to discharge Sheriff, as no agreement, where fraud or force was used in the signatures, could be deemed valid. If we were not able to extricate Sheriff by these means, we thought that at least we should know, by inquiring of those whom we should see on board, whether the measure of hindering the men from seeing their articles on signing them had been adopted. It would be useful to ascertain this because such a measure had been long reported to be usual in this, but was said to be unknown in any other trade. Having passed the river's mouth, and rowed towards the sea, we came near the Prince first, but pursued our destination to the Africa. Mr. Sheriff was the person who received us on board. I did not know him till I asked his name. I then told him my errand, with which he seemed to be much pleased. On asking him to tell the captain that I wished to speak with him, he replied that he was on shore. This put me to great difficulty, as I did not know then what to do. I consulted with Truman Harford, and it was our opinion that we should inquire of the seamen, but in a very quiet manner, by going individually to each, if they had ever demanded to see the articles on signing them, and if they had been refused. We proposed this question to them. They replied, that the captain had refused them in a savage manner, making use of threats and oaths. There was not one contradictory voice on this occasion. We then asked Mr. Sheriff what we were to do. He entreated us by all means to take him on shore. He was sure that under such a man as the captain, and particularly after the circumstance of our coming on board should be made known to him, he would never come from the coast of Africa alive. Upon this, Truman Harford called me aside, and told me the danger of taking an officer from the ship; for that, if any accident should happen to her, the damage might all fall upon me. I then inquired of Mr. Sheriff if there was any officer on board who could manage the ship. He pointed one out to me, and I spoke to him in the cabin. This person told me I need be under no apprehension about the vessel, but that every one would be sorry to lose Mr. Sheriff. Upon this ground, Truman Harford, who had felt more for me than for himself, became now easy. We had before concluded, that the obtaining any signature by fraud or force would render the agreement illegal. We therefore joined in opinion, that we might take away the man. His chest was accordingly put into our boat. We jumped into it with our rowers, and he followed us, surrounded by the seamen, all of whom took an affectionate leave of him, and expressed their regret at parting. Soon after this there was a general cry of "Will you take me, too?" from the deck; and such a sudden movement appeared there, that we were obliged to push off directly from the side, fearing that many would jump into our boat and go with us. After having left the ship, Sheriff corroborated the desertion of the seamen from the Prince, as before related to me by Thompson. He spoke also of the savage disposition of his late captain, which he had even dared to manifest through lying in an English port. I was impressed by this account of his rough manners; and the wind having risen before and the surf now rolling heavily, I began to think what an escape I might have had; how easy it would have been for the savage captain, if he had been on board, or for any one at his instigation, to have pushed me over the ship's side. This was the first time I had ever considered the peril of the undertaking. But we arrived safe; and though on the same evening I left my name at the captain's house, as that of the person who had taken away his mate, I never heard more about it. In pursuing my inquiries into the new topic suggested by Mr. Falconbridge, I learnt that two or three of the seamen of the ship Thomas, which had arrived now nearly a year from the Coast, were in a very crippled and deplorable state; I accordingly went to see them. One of them had been attacked by a fever, arising from circumstances connected with these voyages. The inflammation, which had proceeded from it, had reached his eyes; it could not be dispersed; and the consequence was, that he was then blind. The second was lame; he had badly ulcerated legs, and appeared to be very weak. The third was a mere spectre; I think he was the most pitiable object I ever saw. I considered him as irrecoverably gone. They all complained to me of their bad usage on board the Thomas. They said they had heard, of my being in Bristol, and they hoped I would not leave it without inquiring into the murder of William Lines. On inquiring who William Lines was, they informed me that he had been one of the crew of the same ship, and that all on board believed that he had been killed by the chief mate; but they themselves had not been present when the blows were given him; they had not seen him till afterwards; but their shipmates had told them of his cruel treatment, and they knew that soon afterwards he had died. In the course of the next day, the mother of Lines, who lived in Bristol, came to me and related the case. I told her there was no evidence as to the fact, for that I had seen three seamen, who could not speak to it from their own knowledge. She said, there were four others then in Bristol who could; I desired her to fetch them. When they arrived I examined each separately, and cross-examined them in the best manner I was able; I could find no variation in their account, and I was quite convinced that the murder had taken place. The mother was then importunate that I should take up the case. I was too much affected by the narration I had heard to refuse her wholly, and yet I did not promise that I would; I begged a little time to consider of it. During this I thought of consulting my friend Burges, but I feared he would throw cold water upon it, as he had done in the case of the captain of the Alfred. I remembered well what he had then said to me, and yet I felt a strong disposition to proceed, for the trade was still going on. Every day, perhaps, some new act of barbarity was taking place; and one example, if made, might counteract the evil for a time. I seemed therefore to incline to stir in this matter, and thought, if I should get into any difficulty about it, it would be better to do it without consulting Mr. Burges, than, after having done it, to fly as it were in his face. I then sent for the woman, and told her that she might appear with the witnesses at the Common Hall, where the magistrates usually sat on a certain day. We all met at the time appointed, and I determined to sit as near to the mayor as I could get. The hall was unusually crowded. One or two slave-merchants, and two or three others, who were largely concerned in the West India trade, were upon the bench; for I had informed the mayor the day before of my intention, and he, it appeared, had informed them. I shall never forget the savage looks which these people gave me; which indeed were so remarkable, as to occasion the eyes of the whole court to be turned upon me. They looked as if they were going to speak to me, and the people looked as if they expected me to say something in return. They then got round the mayor, and began to whisper to him, as I supposed, on the business before it should come on. One of them, however, said aloud to the former, but fixing his eyes upon me, and wishing me to overhear him, "Scandalous reports had lately been spread, but sailors were not used worse in Guineamen than in other vessels." This brought the people's eyes upon me again; I was very much irritated, but I thought it improper to say anything. Another, looking savagely at me, said to the mayor, "that he had known Captain Vicars a long time; that he was an honourable man[A], and would not allow such usage in his ship. There were always vagabonds to hatch up things;" and he made a dead point at me, by putting himself into a posture which attracted the notice of those present, and by staring me in the face. I could now no longer restrain myself, and I said aloud, in as modest manner as I could, "You, sir, may know many things which I do not; but this I know, that if you do not do your duty, you are amenable to a higher court." The mayor upon this looked at me, and directly my friend Mr. Burges, who was sitting as the clerk to the magistrates, went to him and whispered something in his ear; after which all private conversation between the mayor and others ceased, and the hearing was ordered to come on. [Footnote A: We may well imagine what this person's notion of another man's honour was; for he was the purser of the Brothers and of the Alfred, who, as before mentioned, sent the captains of those ships out a second voyage; after knowing their barbarities in the former; and he was also the purser of this very ship Thomas, where the murder had been committed. I by no means, however, wish by these observations to detract from the character of Captain Vicars, as he had no concern in the cruel deed.] I shall not detain the reader by giving an account of the evidence which then transpired. The four witnesses were examined, and the case was so far clear; Captain Vicars, however, was sent for. On being questioned, he did not deny that there had been bad usage, but said that the young man had died of the flux. But this assertion went for nothing when balanced against the facts which had come out; and this was so evident, that an order was made out for the apprehension of the chief mate. He was accordingly taken up. The next day, however, there was a rehearing of the case, when he was returned to the gaol, where he was to lie till the Lords of the Admiralty should order a sessions to be held for the trial of offences committed on the high seas. This public examination of the case of William Lines, and the way in which it ended, produced an extraordinary result; for after this time the slave-captains and mates who used to meet me suddenly, used as suddenly to start from me, indeed to the other side of the pavement, as if I had been a wolf, or tiger, or some dangerous beast of prey. Such of them as saw me beforehand used to run up the cross streets or lanes, which were nearest to them, to get away. Seamen, too, came from various quarters to apply to me for redress. One came to me who had been treated ill in the Alexander, when Mr. Falconbridge had been the surgeon of her. Three came to me who had been ill-used in the voyage which followed, though she had then sailed under a new captain. Two applied to me from the Africa, who had been of her crew in the last voyage. Two from the Fly. Two from the Wasp. One from the Little Pearl, and three from the Pilgrim or Princess, when she was last upon the coast. The different scenes of barbarity which these represented to me, greatly added to the affliction of my mind. My feelings became now almost insupportable. I was agonized to think that this trade should last another day. I was in a state of agitation from morning till night. I determined I would soon leave Bristol. I saw nothing but misery in the place. I had collected now, I believed, all the evidence it would afford; and to stay in it a day longer than was necessary, would be only an interruption for so much time both of my happiness and of my health. I determined therefore to do only two or three things, which I thought to be proper, and to depart in a few days. And first I went to Bath, where I endeavoured to secure the respectable paper belonging to that city in favour of the abolition of the Slave Trade. This I did entirely to my satisfaction, by relating to the worthy editor all the discoveries I had made, and by impressing his mind in a forcible manner on the subject. And it is highly to the honour of Mr. Crutwell, that from that day he never ceased to defend our cause; that he never made a charge for insertions of any kind; but that he considered all he did upon this occasion in the light of a duty, or as his mite given in charity to a poor and oppressed people. The next attempt was to lay the foundation of a committee in Bristol, and of a petition to Parliament from it for the abolition of the Slave Trade. I had now made many friends. A gentleman of the name of Paynter had felt himself much interested in my labours. Mr. Joseph Harford, a man of fortune, of great respectability of character, and of considerable influence, had attached himself to the cause. Dr. Fox had assisted me in it. Mr. Hughes, a clergyman of the baptist church, was anxious and ready to serve it. Dr. Camplin, of the establishment, with several of his friends, continued steady. Matthew Wright, James Harford, Truman Harford, and all the Quakers to a man, were strenuous, and this on the best of principles, in its support. To all these I spoke, and I had the pleasure of seeing that my wishes were likely in a short time to be gratified in both these cases. It was now necessary that I should write to the committee in London. I had written to them only two letters during my absence; for I had devoted myself so much to the great object I had undertaken, that I could think of little else. Hence some of my friends among them were obliged to write to different persons at Bristol, to inquire if I was alive, I gave up a day or two therefore, to this purpose. I informed the committee of all my discoveries in the various branches to which my attention had been directed, and desired them in return to procure me various official documents for the port of London, which I then specified. Having done this, I conferred with Mr. Falconbridge, relative to being with me at Liverpool. I thought it right to make him no other offer than that his expenses should be paid. He acceded to my request on these disinterested terms; and I took my departure from Bristol, leaving him to follow me in a few days. CHAPTER XVII. Author secures the Gloucester paper, and lays the foundation of a petition from that city; does the same at Worcester, and at Chester.--Arrives at Liverpool.--Collects specimens of African produce; also imports and exports, and muster-rolls, and accounts of dock duties, and iron instruments used in the Slave Trade.--His introduction to Mr. Norris, and others.--Author and his errand become known.--People visit him out of curiosity.--Frequent controversies on the subject of the Slave Trade. On my arrival at Gloucester, I waited upon my friend Dean Tucker. He was pleased to hear of the great progress I had made since he left me. On communicating to him my intention of making interest with the editors of some provincial papers, to enlighten the public mind, and with the inhabitants of some respectable places, for petitions to Parliament, relative to the abolition of the Slave Trade, he approved of it, and introduced me to Mr. Raikes, the proprietor of the respectable paper belonging to that city. Mr. Raikes acknowledged, without any hesitation, the pleasure he should have in serving such a noble cause; and he promised to grant me, from time to time, a corner in his paper, for such things as I might point out to him for insertion. This promise he performed afterwards, without any pecuniary consideration, and solely on the ground of benevolence. He promised also his assistance as to the other object, for the promotion of which I left him several of my _Summary View_ to distribute. At Worcester I trod over the same ground, and with the same success. Timothy Bevington, of the religious society of the Quakers, was the only person to whom I had an introduction there: he accompanied me to the mayor, to the editor of the Worcester paper, and to several others, before each of whom I pleaded the cause of the oppressed Africans in the best manner I was able. I dilated both on the inhumanity and on the impolicy of the trade, which I supported by the various facts recently obtained at Bristol. I desired, however, as far as petitions were concerned, (and this desire I expressed on all other similar occasions,) that no attempt should be made to obtain these, till such information had been circulated on the subject, that every one, when called upon, might judge, from his knowledge of it, how far he would feel it right to join in it. For this purpose I left also here several of my _Summary View_ for distribution. After my arrival at Chester, I went to the bishop's residence, but I found he was not there. Knowing no other person in the place, I wrote a note to Mr. Cowdroy, whom I understood to be the editor of the Chester paper, soliciting an interview with him, I explained my wishes to him on both subjects. He seemed to be greatly rejoiced, when we met, that such a measure as that of the abolition of the Slave Trade was in contemplation. Living at so short a distance from Liverpool, and in a country from which so many persons were constantly going to Africa, he was by no means ignorant, as some were, of the nature of this cruel traffic; but yet he had no notion that I had probed it so deeply, or that I had brought to light such important circumstances concerning it, as he found by my conversation. He made me a hearty offer of his services on this occasion, and this expressly without fee or reward. I accepted them most joyfully and gratefully. It was, indeed, a most important thing, to have a station so near the enemy's camp, where we could watch their motions, and meet any attack which might be made from it. And this office of a sentinel Mr. Cowdroy performed with great vigilance; and when he afterwards left Chester for Manchester, to establish a paper there, he carried with him the same friendly disposition towards our cause. My first introduction at Liverpool was to William Rathbone, a member of the religious society of the Quakers. He was the same person who, before the formation of our committee, had procured me copies of several of the muster-rolls of the slave-vessels belonging to that port, so that, though we were not personally known, yet we were not strangers to each other. Isaac Hadwen, a respectable member of the same society, was the person whom I saw next. I had been introduced to him, previously to my journey, when he was at London, at the yearly meeting of the Quakers, so that no letter to him was necessary. As Mr. Roscoe had generally given the profits of _The Wrongs of Africa_ to our committee, I made no scruple of calling upon him. His reception of me was very friendly, and he introduced me afterwards to Dr. Currie, who had written the preface to that poem. There was also a fourth upon whom I called, though I did not know him. His name was Edward Rushton: he had been an officer in a slave-ship, but had lost his sight, and had become an enemy to that trade. On passing through Chester, I had heard, for the first time, that he had published a poem called _West Indian Eclogues_, with a view of making the public better acquainted with the evil of the Slave Trade, and of exciting their indignation against it. Of the three last it may be observed, that, having come forward thus early, as labourers, they deserve to be put down, as I have placed them in the map, among the forerunners and coadjutors in this great cause, for each published his work before any efforts were made publicly, or without knowing that any were intended. Rushton, also, had the boldness, though then living in Liverpool, to affix his name to his work. These were the only persons whom I knew for some time after my arrival in that place. It may not, perhaps, be necessary to enter so largely into my proceedings at Liverpool as at Bristol. The following account, therefore, may suffice:-- In my attempts to add to my collection of specimens of African produce, I was favoured with a sample of gum ruber astringents, of cotton from the Gambia, of indigo and musk, of long pepper, of black pepper from Whidàh, of mahogany from Calabar, and of cloths of different colours, made by the natives, which, while they gave other proofs of the quality of their own cotton, gave proofs, also, of the variety of their dyes. I made interest at the Custom-house for various exports and imports, and for copies of the muster-rolls of several slave-vessels, besides those of vessels employed in other trades. By looking out constantly for information on this great subject, I was led to the examination of a printed card or table of the dock duties of Liverpool, which was published annually. The town of Liverpool had so risen in opulence and importance from only a fishing-village, that the corporation seemed to have a pride in giving a public view of this increase. Hence they published and circulated this card. Now the card contained one, among other facts, which was almost as precious, in a political point of view, as any I had yet obtained. It stated that in the year 1772, when I knew that a hundred vessels sailed out of Liverpool for the coast of Africa, the dock-duties amounted to 4552_l._, and that in 1779, when I knew that, in consequence of the war, only eleven went from thence to the same coast, they amounted to 4957_l_. From these facts put together, two conclusions were obvious. The first was, that the opulence of Liverpool, as far as the entry of vessels into its ports, and the dock-duties arising from thence, were concerned, was not indebted to the Slave Trade; for these duties were highest when it had only eleven ships in that employ. The second was, that there had been almost a practical experiment with respect to the abolition of it; for the vessels in it had been gradually reduced from one hundred to eleven, and yet the West Indians had not complained of their ruin, nor had the merchants or manufacturers suffered, nor had Liverpool been affected by the change. There were specimens of articles in Liverpool, which I entirely overlooked at Bristol, and which I believed I should have overlooked here also, had it not been for seeing them at a window in a shop; I mean those of different iron instruments used in this cruel traffic. I bought a pair of the iron hand-cuffs with which the men-slaves are confined. The right-hand wrist of one, and the left of another, are almost brought into contact by these, and fastened together, as the figure A in the annexed plate represents, by a little bolt with a small padlock at the end of it. [Illustration: Handcuffs] I bought also a pair of shackles for the legs. These are represented by the figure B. The right ancle of one man is fastened to the left of another, as the reader will observe, by similar means. I bought these, not because it was difficult to conceive how the unhappy victims of this execrable trade were confined, but to show the fact that they were so. For what was the inference from it, but that they did not leave their own country willingly; that, when they were in the holds of the slave-vessels, they were not in the Elysium which had been represented; and that there was a fear either that they would make their escape, or punish their oppressors? [Illustration: Shackles for the legs] I bought also a thumb-screw at this shop. The thumbs are put into this instrument through the two circular holes at the top of it. By turning a key, a bar rises up by means of a screw from C to D, and the pressure upon them becomes painful. By turning it further you may make the blood start from the ends of them. By taking the key away, as at E, you leave the tortured person in agony, without any means of extricating himself, or of being extricated by others. This screw, as I was then informed, was applied by way of punishment, in case of obstinacy in the slaves, or for any other reputed offence, at the discretion of the captain. At the same place I bought another instrument which I saw. It was called a speculum oris. The dotted lines in the figure on the right hand of the screw represent it when shut, the black lines when open. It is opened, as at G H, by a screw below with a nob at the end of it. This instrument is known among surgeons, having been invented to assist them in wrenching open the mouth as in the case of a locked jaw; but it had got into use in this trade. [Illustration: Thumb screw] [Illustration: Speculum oris] On asking the seller of the instruments on what occasion it was used there, he replied that the slaves were frequently so sulky as to shut their mouths against all sustenance, and this with a determination to die; and that it was necessary their mouths should be forced open to throw in nutriment, that they who had purchased them might incur no loss by their death. The town-talk of Liverpool was much of the same nature as that at Bristol on the subject of this trade. Horrible facts concerning it were in everybody's mouth; but they were more numerous, as was likely to be the case where eighty vessels were employed from one port, and only eighteen from the other. The people, too, at Liverpool seemed to be more hardened, or they related them with more coldness or less feeling. This may be accounted for from the greater number of those facts, as just related, the mention of which, as it was of course more frequent, occasioned them to lose their power of exciting surprise. All this I thought in my favour, as I should more easily, or with less obnoxiousness, come to the knowledge of what I wanted to obtain. My friend William Rathbone, who had been looking out to supply me with intelligence, but who was desirous that I should not be imposed upon, and that I should get it from the fountainhead, introduced me to Mr. Norris for this purpose. Norris had been formerly a slave-captain, but had quitted the trade, and settled as a merchant in a different line of business. He was a man of quick penetration, and of good talents, which he had cultivated to advantage, and he had a pleasing address both as to speech and manners. He received me with great politeness, and offered me all the information I desired. I was with him five or six times at his own house for this purpose. The substance of his communications on these occasions I shall now put down, and I beg the reader's particular attention to it, as he will be referred to it in other parts of this work. With respect to the produce of Africa, Mr. Norris enumerated many articles in which a new and valuable trade might be opened, of which he gave me one, namely, the black pepper from Whidàh before mentioned. This he gave me, to use his own expressions, as one argument among many others of the impolicy of the Slave Trade, which, by turning the attention of the inhabitants to the persons of one another for sale, hindered foreigners from discovering, and themselves from cultivating, many of the valuable productions of their own soil. On the subject of procuring slaves, he gave it as his decided opinion that many of the inhabitants of Africa were kidnapped by each other, as they were travelling on the roads, or fishing in the creeks, or cultivating their little spots. Having learned their language, he had collected the fact from various quarters, but more particularly from the accounts of slaves whom he had transported in his own vessels. With respect, however, to Whidàh, many came from thence who were reduced to slavery in a different manner. The king of Dahomey, whose life (with the wars and customs of the Dahomans) he said he was then writing, and who was a very despotic prince, made no scruple of seizing his own subjects, and of selling them, if he was in want of any of the articles which the slave-vessels would afford him. The history of this prince's life he lent me afterwards to read, while it was yet in manuscript, in which I observed that he had recorded all the facts now mentioned. Indeed he made no hesitation to state them, either when we were by ourselves, or when others were in company with us. He repeated them at one time in the presence both of Mr. Cruden and Mr. Coupland. The latter was then a slave-merchant at Liverpool. He seemed to be fired at the relation of these circumstances. Unable to restrain himself longer, he entered into a defence of the trade, both as to the humanity and the policy of it; but Mr. Norris took up his arguments in both these cases, and answered them in a solid manner. With respect to the Slave Trade as it affected the health of our seamen, Mr. Norris admitted it to be destructive; but I did not stand in need of this information, as I knew this part of the subject, in consequence of my familiarity with the muster-rolls, better than himself. He admitted it also to be true, that they were too frequently ill-treated in this trade. A day or two after our conversation on this latter subject he brought me the manuscript journal of a voyage to Africa, which had been kept by a mate, with whom he was then acquainted. He brought it to me to read, as it might throw some light upon the subject on which we had talked last. In this manuscript various instances of cruel usage towards seamen were put down, from which it appeared that the mate, who wrote it, had not escaped himself. At the last interview we had, he seemed to be so satisfied of the inhumanity, injustice, and impolicy of the trade, that he made me a voluntary offer of certain clauses, which he had been thinking of, and which, he believed, if put into an Act of Parliament, would judiciously effect its abolition. The offer of these clauses I embraced eagerly. He dictated them, and I wrote. I wrote them in a small book which I had then in my pocket. They were these:-- No vessel, under a heavy penalty, to supply foreigners with slaves. Every vessel to pay to government a tax for a register on clearing out to supply our own islands with slaves. Every such vessel to be prohibited from purchasing or bringing home any of the productions of Africa. Every such vessel to be prohibited from bringing home a passenger, or any article of produce, from the West Indies. A bounty to be given to every vessel trading in the natural productions of Africa. This bounty to be paid in part out of the tax arising from the registers of the slave-vessels. Certain establishments to be made by government in Africa, in the Bananas, in the Isles de Los, on the banks of the Camaranca, and in other places, for the encouragement and support of the new trade to be substituted there. Such then were the services, which Mr. Norris, at the request of William Rathbone, rendered me at Liverpool, during my stay there; and I have been very particular in detailing them, because I shall be obliged to allude to them, as I have before observed, on some important occasions in a future part of the work. On going my rounds one day, I met accidentally with Captain Chaffers. This gentleman either was or had been in the West India employ. His heart had beaten in sympathy with mine, and he had greatly favoured our cause. He had seen me at Mr. Norris's, and learned my errand there. He told me he could introduce me in a few minutes, as we were then near at hand, to Captain Lace, if I chose it. Captain Lace, he said, had been long in the Slave Trade, and could give me very accurate information about it. I accepted his offer. On talking to Captain Lace, relative to the productions of Africa, he told me that mahogany grew at Calabar. He began to describe a tree of that kind, which he had seen there. This tree was from about eighteen inches to two feet in diameter, and about sixty feet high, or, as he expressed it, of the height of a tall chimney. As soon as he mentioned Calabar, a kind of horror came over me. His name became directly associated in my mind with the place. It almost instantly occurred to me, that he commanded the Edgar out of Liverpool, when the dreadful massacre there, as has been related, took place. Indeed I seemed to be so confident of it, that, attending more to my feelings than to my reason at this moment, I accused him with being concerned in it. This produced great confusion among us. For he looked incensed at Captain Chaffers, as if he had introduced me to him for this purpose. Captain Chaffers again seemed to be all astonishment that I should have known of this circumstance, and to be vexed that I should have mentioned it in such a manner. I was also in a state of trembling myself. Captain Lace could only say it was a bad business. But he never defended himself, nor those concerned in it. And we soon parted, to the great joy of us all. Soon after this interview, I began to perceive that I was known in Liverpool, as well as the object for which I came. Mr. Coupland, the slave-merchant, with whom I had disputed at Mr. Norris's house, had given the alarm to those who were concerned in the trade, and Captain Lace, as may be now easily imagined, had spread it. This knowledge of me and of my errand was almost immediately productive of two effects, the first of which I shall now mention. I had a private room at the King's Arms tavern, besides my bed-room, where I used to meditate and to write; but I generally dined in public. The company at dinner had hitherto varied but little as to number, and consisted of those, both from the town and country, who had been accustomed to keep up a connexion with the house. But now things were altered, and many people came to dine there daily with a view of seeing me, as if I had been some curious creature imported from foreign parts. They thought, also, they could thus have an opportunity of conversing with me. Slave-merchants and slave-captains came in among others for this purpose. I had observed this difference in the number of our company for two or three days. Dale, the master of the tavern, had observed it also, and told me in a good-natured manner, that many of these were my visitors, and that I was likely to bring him a great deal of custom. In a little time, however, things became serious; for they, who came to see me, always started the abolition of the Slave Trade as the subject for conversation. Many entered into the justification of this trade with great warmth, as if to ruffle my temper, or at any rate to provoke me to talk. Others threw out, with the same view, that men were going about to abolish it, who would have done much better if they had stayed at home. Others said they had heard of a person turned mad, who had conceived the thought of destroying Liverpool, and all its glory. Some gave as a toast, Success to the trade, and then laughed immoderately, and watched me when I took my glass to see if I would drink it. I saw the way in which things were now going, and I believed it would be proper that I should come to some fixed resolutions; such as, whether I should change my lodgings, and whether I should dine in private; and if not, what line of conduct it would become me to pursue on such occasions. With respect to changing my lodgings and dining in private, I conceived, if I were to do either of these things, that I should be showing an unmanly fear of my visiters, which they would turn to their own advantage. I conceived too, that, if I chose to go on as before, and to enter into conversation with them on the subject of the abolition of the Slave Trade, I might be able, by having such an assemblage of persons daily, to gather all the arguments which they could collect on the other side of our question, an advantage which I should one day feel in the future management of the cause. With respect to the line, which I should pursue in the case of remaining in the place of my abode and in my former habits, I determined never to start the subject of the abolition myself--never to abandon it when started--never to defend it but in a serious and dignified manner--and never to discover any signs of irritation, whatever provocation might be given me. By this determination I abided rigidly. The King's Arms became now daily the place for discussion on this subject. Many tried to insult me, but to no purpose. In all these discussions I found the great advantage of having brought Mr. Falconbridge with me from Bristol; for he was always at the table; and when my opponents, with a disdainful look, tried to ridicule my knowledge, among those present, by asking me if I had ever been on the coast of Africa myself, he used generally to reply, "But I have. I know all your proceedings there, and that his statements are true." These and other words put in by him, who was an athletic and resolute-looking man, were of great service to me. All disinterested persons, of whom there were four or five daily in the room, were uniformly convinced by our arguments, and took our part, and some of them very warmly. Day after day we beat our opponents out of the field, as many of the company acknowledged, to their no small notification, in their presence. Thus, while we served the cause by discovering all that could be said against it, we served it by giving numerous individuals proper ideas concerning it, and of interesting them in our favour. The second effect which I experienced was, that from this time I could never get any one to come forward as an evidence to serve the cause. There were, I believe, hundreds of persons in Liverpool, and in the neighbourhood of it, who had been concerned in this traffic, and who had left it, all of whom could have given such testimony concerning it as would have insured its abolition. But none of them would now speak out. Of these, indeed, there were some, who were alive to the horrors of it, and who lamented that it should still continue. But yet even these were backward in supporting me. All that they did was just privately to see me, to tell me that I was right, and to exhort me to persevere: but as to coming forward to be examined publicly, my object was so unpopular, and would become so much more so when brought into parliament, that they would have their houses pulled down, if they should then appear as public instruments in the annihilation of the trade. With this account I was obliged to rest satisfied; nor could I deny, when I considered the spirit, which had manifested itself, and the extraordinary number of interested persons in the place, that they had some reason for their fears; and that these fears were not groundless, appeared afterwards; for Dr. Binns, a respectable physician belonging to the religious society of the Quakers, and to whom Isaac Hadwen had introduced me, was near falling into a mischievous plot, which had been laid against him, because he was one of the subscribers to the institution for the abolition of the Slave Trade, and because he was suspected of having aided me in promoting that object. CHAPTER XVIII. Hostile disposition towards the author increases, on account of his known patronage of the seamen employed in the Slave Trade; manner of procuring and paying them at Liverpool; their treatment and mortality.--Account of the murder of Peter Green; trouble taken by the author to trace it; his narrow escape.--Goes to Lancaster, but returns to Liverpool; leaves the latter place. It has appeared that a number of persons used to come and see me, out of curiosity, at the King's Arms tavern; and that these manifested a bad disposition towards me, which was near breaking out into open insult. Now the cause of all this was, as I have observed, the knowledge which people had obtained relative to my errand at this place. But this hostile disposition was increased by another circumstance, which I am now to mention. I had been so shocked at the treatment of the seamen belonging to the slave-vessels at Bristol, that I determined, on my arrival at Liverpool, to institute an inquiry concerning it there also. I had made considerable progress in it, so that few seamen were landed from such vessels, but I had some communication with them; and though no one else would come near me, to give me any information about the trade, these were always forward to speak to me, and to tell me their grievances, if it were only with the hope of being able to get redress. The consequence of this was, that they used to come to the King's Arms tavern to see me. Hence, one, two, and three, were almost daily to be found about the door; and this happened quite as frequently after the hostility just mentioned had shown itself, as before. They, therefore, who came to visit me out of curiosity, could not help seeing my sailor visiters; and on inquiring into their errand, they became more than ever incensed against me. The first result of this increased hostility towards me was an application from some of them to the master of the tavern, that he would not harbour me. This he communicated to me in a friendly manner, but he was by no means desirous that I should leave him. On the other hand, he hoped I would stay long enough to accomplish my object. I thought it right, however, to take the matter into consideration; and having canvassed it, I resolved to remain with him, for the reasons mentioned in the former chapter. But, that I might avoid doing anything that would be injurious to his interest, as well as in some measure avoid giving unnecessary offence to others, I took lodgings in Williamson Square, where I retired to write, and occasionally to sleep, and to which place all seamen, desirous of seeing me, were referred. Hence I continued to get the same information as before, but in a less obnoxious and injurious manner. The history of the seamen employed in the slave-vessels belonging to the port of Liverpool, I found to be similar to that of those from Bristol. They who went into this trade were of two classes. The first consisted of those who were ignorant of it, and to whom generally improper representations of advantage had been made, for the purpose of enticing them into it. The second consisted of those who, by means of a regular system, kept up by the mates and captains, had been purposely brought by their landlords into distress, from which they could only be extricated by going into this hateful employ. How many have I seen, with tears in their eyes, put into boats, and conveyed to vessels, which were then lying at the Black Rock, and which were only waiting to receive them to sail away! The manner of paying them in the currency of the islands was the same as at Bristol. But this practice was not concealed at Liverpool, as it was at the former place. The articles of agreement were printed, so that all who chose to buy might read them. At the same time it must be observed, that seamen were never paid in this manner in any other employ; and that the African wages, though nominally higher for the sake of procuring hands, were thus made to be actually lower than in other trades. The loss by death was so similar, that it did not signify whether the calculation on a given number was made either at this or the other port. I had, however, a better opportunity at this than I had at the other, of knowing the loss, as it related to those whose constitutions had been ruined, or who had been rendered incapable by disease, of continuing their occupation at sea. For the slave-vessels which returned to Liverpool, sailed immediately into the docks, so that I saw at once their sickly and ulcerated crews. The number of vessels, too, was so much greater from this, than from any other port, that their sick made a more conspicuous figure in the infirmary; and they were seen also more frequently in the streets. With respect to their treatment, nothing could be worse. It seemed to me to be but one barbarous system from the beginning to the end. I do not say barbarous, as if premeditated, but it became so in consequence of the savage habits gradually formed by a familiarity with miserable sights, and with a course of action inseparable from the trade. Men in their first voyages usually disliked the traffic; and if they were happy enough then to abandon it, they usually escaped the disease of a hardened heart. But if they went a second and a third time, their disposition became gradually changed. It was impossible for them to be accustomed to carry away men and women by force, to keep them in chains, to see their tears, to hear their mournful lamentations, to behold the dead and the dying, to be obliged to keep up a system of severity amidst all this affliction,--in short, it was impossible for them to be witnesses, and this for successive voyages, to the complicated mass of misery passing in a slave-ship, without losing their finer feelings, or without contracting those habits of moroseness and cruelty which would brutalize their nature. Now, if we consider that persons could not easily become captains (and to these the barbarities were generally chargeable by actual perpetration, or by consent) till they had been two or three voyages in this employ, we shall see the reason why it would be almost a miracle, if they, who were thus employed in it, were not rather to become monsters, than to continue to be men. While I was at Bristol, I heard from an officer of the Alfred, who gave me the intelligence privately, that the steward of a Liverpool ship, whose name was Green, had been murdered in that ship. The Alfred was in Bonny river at the same time, and his own captain, (so infamous for his cruelty, as has been before shown,) was on board when it happened. The circumstances, he said, belonging to this murder, were, if report were true, of a most atrocious nature, and deserved to be made the subject of inquiry. As to the murder itself, he observed, it had passed as a notorious and uncontradicted fact. This account was given me just as I had made an acquaintance with Mr. Falconbridge, and I informed him of it; he said he had no doubt of its truth; for in his last voyage he went to Bonny himself, where the ship was then lying, in which the transaction happened: the king and several of the black traders told him of it. The report then current was simply this, that the steward had been barbarously beaten one evening; that after this he was let down with chains upon him into a boat, which was alongside of the ship, and that the next morning he was found dead. On my arrival at Liverpool, I resolved to inquire into the truth of this report. On looking into one of the wet docks, I saw the name of the vessel alluded to; I walked over the decks of several others, and got on board her. Two people were walking up and down her, and one was leaning upon a rail by the side. I asked the latter how many slaves this ship had carried in her last voyage; he replied he could not tell; but one of the two persons walking about could answer me, as he had sailed out and returned in her. This man came up to us, and joined in conversation. He answered my questions and many others, and would have shown me the ship, but on asking him how many seamen had died on the voyage, he changed his manner, and said, with apparent hesitation, that he could not tell. I asked him next, what had become, of the steward Green. He said he believed he was dead. I asked how the seamen had been used. He said, not worse than others. I then asked whether Green had been used worse than others. He replied, he did not then recollect. I found that he was now quite upon his guard, and as I could get no satisfactory answer from him I left the ship. On the next day I looked over the muster-roll of this vessel; on examining it, I found that sixteen of the crew had died; I found also the name of Peter Green; I found, again, that the latter had been put down among the dead. I observed, also, that the ship had left Liverpool on the 5th of June, 1786, and had returned on the 5th of June, 1787, and that Peter Green was put down as having died on the 19th of September; from all which circumstances it was evident that he must, as my Bristol informant asserted, have died upon the Coast. Notwithstanding this extraordinary coincidence of name, mortality, time, and place, I could gain no further intelligence about the affair till within about ten days before I left Liverpool; when among the seamen, who came to apply to me in Williamson Square was George Ormond. He came to inform me of his own ill-usage; from which circumstance I found that he had sailed in the same ship with Peter Green. This led me to inquire into the transaction in question, and I received from him the following account. Peter Green had been shipped as steward. A black woman, of the name of Rodney, went out in the same vessel; she belonged to the owners of it, and was to be an interpretess to the slaves who should be purchased. About five in the evening, some time in the month of September, the vessel then lying in Bonny river, the captain, as was his custom, went on shore. In his absence, Rodney, the black woman, asked Green for the keys of the pantry, which he refused her, alleging that the captain had already beaten him for having given them to her on a former occasion, when she drank the wine. The woman, being passionate, struck him, and a scuffle ensued, out of which Green extricated himself as well as he could. When the scuffle was over the woman retired to the cabin, and appeared pensive. Between eight and nine in the evening, the captain, who was attended by the captain of the Alfred, came on board; Rodney immediately ran to him, and informed him that Green had made an assault upon her. The captain, without any inquiry, beat him severely, and ordered his hands to be made fast to some bolts on the starboard side of the ship and under the half deck, and then flogged him himself, using the lashes of the cat-of-nine-tails upon his back at one time, and the double walled knot at the end of it upon his head at another; and stopping to rest at intervals, and using each hand alternately, that he might strike with the greater severity. The pain had now become so very severe, that Green cried out, and entreated the captain of the Alfred, who was standing by, to pity his hard case, and to intercede for him. But the latter replied, that he would have served me in the same manner. Unable to find a friend here, he called upon the chief mate; but this only made matters worse, for the captain then ordered the latter to flog him also; which he did for some time, using however only the lashes of the instrument. Green then called in his distress upon the second mate to speak for him; but the second mate was immediately ordered to perform the same cruel office, and was made to persevere in it till the lashes were all worn into threads. But the barbarity did not close here; for the captain, on seeing the instrument now become useless, ordered another, with which he flogged him as before, beating him at times over the head with the double-walled knot, and changing his hands, and cursing his own left hand for not being able to strike so severe a blow as his right. The punishment, as inflicted by all parties, had now lasted two hours and a half, when George Ormond was ordered to cut down one of the arms, and the boatswain the other, from the places of their confinement; this being done, Green lay motionless on the deck. He attempted to utter something, Ormond understood it to be the word water; but no water was allowed him. The captain, on the other hand, said he had not yet done with him, and ordered him to be confined with his arms across, his right hand to his left foot, and his left hand to his right foot. For this purpose the carpenter brought shackles, and George Ormond was compelled to put them on. The captain then ordered some tackle to be made fast to the limbs of the said Peter Green, in which situation he was then hoisted up, and afterwards let down into a boat, which was lying alongside the ship. Michael Cunningham was then sent to loose the tackle, and to leave him there. In the middle watch, or between one and two next morning, George Ormond looked out of one of the port-holes, and called to Green, but received no answer. Between two and three, Paul Berry, a seaman, was sent down into the boat, and found him dead. He made his report to one of the officers of the ship. About five in the morning the body was brought up, and laid on the waist near the half-deck door. The captain on seeing the body when he rose, expressed no concern, but ordered it to be knocked out of irons, and to be buried at the usual place of interment for seamen, or Bonny Point. I may now observe, that the deceased was in good health before the punishment took place, and in high spirits; for he played upon the flute only a short time before Rodney asked him for the keys, while those seamen, who were in health, danced. On hearing this cruel relation from George Ormond, who was throughout a material witness to the scene, I had no doubt in my own mind of the truth of it; but I thought it right to tell him at once that I had seen a person, about four weeks ago, who had been the same voyage with him and Peter Green, but yet who had no recollection of these circumstances. Upon this he looked quite astonished, and began to grow angry; he maintained he had seen the whole; he had also held the candle himself during the whole punishment. He asserted that one candle and half of another were burnt out while it lasted. He said also that, while the body lay in the waist, he had handled the abused parts, and had put three of his fingers into a hole, made by the double walled knot, in the head, from whence a quantity of blood and, he believed, brains issued. He then challenged me to bring the man, before him; I desired him upon this to be cool, and to come to me the next day, and I would then talk with him again upon the subject. In the interim I consulted the muster-roll of the vessel again; I found the name of George Ormond; he had sailed in her out of Liverpool, and had been discharged at the latter end of January in the West Indies, as he had told me. I found also the names of Michael Cunningham and of Paul Berry, whom he had mentioned. It was obvious also that Ormond's account of the captain of the Alfred being on board at the time of the punishment tallied with that given me at Bristol by an officer of that vessel, and that his account of letting down Peter Green into the boat tallied with that which Mr. Falconbridge, as I mentioned before, had heard from the king and the black traders in Bonny river. When he came to me next day, he came in high spirits. He said he had found out the man whom I had seen. The man, however, when he talked to him about the murder of Peter Green, acknowledged every thing concerning it. Ormond intimated that this man was to sail again in the same ship under the promise of being an officer, and that he had been kept on board, and had been enticed to a second voyage, for no other purpose than that he might be prevented from divulging the matter. I then asked Ormond, whether he thought the man would acknowledge the murder in my hearing. He replied, "that, if I were present, he thought he would not say much about it, as he was soon to be under the same captain, but that he would not deny it. If, however, I were out of sight, though I might be in hearing, he believed he would acknowledge the facts." By the assistance of Mr. Falconbridge, I found a public-house, which had two rooms in it: nearly at the top of the partition between them was a small window, which a person might look through by standing upon a chair. I desired Ormond, one evening, to invite the man into the larger room, in which he was to have a candle, and, to talk with him on the subject. I proposed to station myself in the smallest in the dark, so that by looking through the window I could both see and hear him, and yet be unperceived myself. The room, in which I was to be, was one where the dead were frequently carried to be owned. We were all in our places at the time appointed. I directly discovered that it was the same man with whom I had conversed on board the ship in the wet docks. I heard him distinctly relate many of the particulars of the murder, and acknowledge them all. Ormond, after having talked with him some time, said, "Well, then, you believe Peter Green was actually murdered?" He replied, "If Peter Green was not murdered, no man ever was." What followed I do not know. I had heard quite enough; and the room was so disagreeable in smell, that I did not choose to stay in it longer than was absolutely necessary. I own I was now quite satisfied that the murder had taken place, and my first thought was to bring the matter before the mayor, and to take up three of the officers of the ship. But, in mentioning my intention to my friends, I was dissuaded from it. They had no doubt but that in Liverpool, as there was now a notion that the Slave Trade would become a subject of parliamentary inquiry, every, effort would be made to overthrow me. They were of opinion also that such of the magistrates, as were interested in the trade, when applied to for warrants of apprehension, would contrive to give notice to the officers to escape. In addition to this they believed, that so many in the town were already incensed against me, that I should be torn to pieces, and the house where I lodged burnt down, if I were to make the attempt. I thought it right therefore to do nothing for the present; but I sent Ormond to London, to keep him out of the way of corruption, till I should make up my mind as to further proceedings on the subject. It is impossible, if I observe the bounds I have prescribed myself, and I believe the reader will be glad of it on account of his own feelings, that I should lay open the numerous cases, which came before me at Liverpool, relative to the ill-treatment of the seamen in this wicked trade. It may be sufficient to say, that they harassed my constitution, and affected my spirits daily. They were in my thoughts on my pillow after I retired to rest, and I found them before my eyes when I awoke. Afflicting, however, as they were, they were of great use in the promotion of our cause: for they served, whatever else failed, as a stimulus to perpetual energy: they made me think light of former labours, and they urged me imperiously to new. And here I may observe, that among the many circumstances which ought to excite our joy on considering the great event of the abolition of the Slave Trade, which has now happily taken place, there are few for which we ought to be more grateful, than that from this time our commerce ceases to breed such abandoned wretches: while those, who have thus been bred in it, and who may yet find employment in other trades, will, in the common course of nature, be taken off in a given time, so that our marine will at length be purified from a race of monsters, which have helped to cripple its strength, and to disgrace its character. The temper of many of the interested people of Liverpool had now become still more irritable, and their hostility more apparent than before. I received anonymous letters, entreating me to leave it, or I should otherwise never leave it alive. The only effect which this advice had upon me, was to make me more vigilant when I went out at night. I never stirred out at this time without Mr. Falconbridge; and he never accompanied me without being well armed. Of this, however, I knew nothing until we had left the place. There was certainly a time when I had reason to believe that I had a narrow escape. I was one day on the pier-head with many others looking at some little boats below at the time of a heavy gale. Several persons, probably out of curiosity, were hastening thither. I had seen all I intended to see, and was departing, when I noticed eight or nine persons making towards me. I was then only about eight or nine yards from the precipice of the pier, but going from it. I expected that they would have divided to let me through them; instead of which they closed upon me and bore me back. I was borne within a yard of the precipice, when I discovered my danger; and perceiving among them the murderer of Peter Green, and two others who had insulted me at the King's Arms, it instantly struck me that they had a design to throw me over the pier-head; which they might have done at this time, and yet have pleaded that I had been killed by accident. There was not a moment to lose. Vigorous on account of the danger, I darted forward. One of them, against whom I pushed myself, fell down: their ranks were broken; and I escaped, not without blows, amidst their imprecations and abuse. I determined now to go to Lancaster, to make some inquiries about the Slave Trade there. I had a letter of introduction to William Jepson, one of the religious society of the Quakers, for this purpose. I found from him, that, though there were slave-merchants at Lancaster, they made their outfits at Liverpool, as a more convenient port. I learnt too from others, that the captain of the last vessel, which had sailed out of Lancaster to the coast of Africa for slaves, had taken off so many of the natives treacherously, that any other vessel known to come from it would be cut off. There were only now one or two superannuated captains living in the place. Finding I could get no oral testimony, I was introduced into the Custom-house. Here I just looked over the muster-rolls of such slave-vessels as had formerly sailed from this port; and having found that the loss of seamen was precisely in the same proportion as elsewhere, I gave myself no further trouble, but left the place. On my return to Liverpool, I was informed by Mr. Falconbridge, that a ship-mate of Ormond, of the name of Patrick Murray, who had been discharged in the West Indies, had arrived there. This man, he said, had been to call upon me in my absence, to seek redress for his own bad usage; but in the course of conversation he had confirmed all the particulars as stated by Ormond, relative to the murder of Peter Green. On consulting the muster-roll of the ship, I found his name, and that he had been discharged in the West Indies on the 2nd of February. I determined, therefore, to see him. I cross-examined him in the best manner I could. I could neither make him contradict himself, nor say anything that militated against the testimony of Ormond. I was convinced, therefore, of the truth of the transaction; and, having obtained his consent, I sent him to London to stay with the latter, till he should hear further from me. I learnt also from Mr. Falconbridge, that visitors had continued to come to the King's Arms during my absence; that they had been very liberal of their abuse of me; and that one of them did not hesitate to say (which is remarkable) that "I deserved to be thrown over the pierhead." Finding now that I could get no further evidence; that the information which I had already obtained was considerable[A]; and that the committee had expressed an earnest desire, in a letter which I had received, that I would take into consideration the propriety of writing my Essay on the _Impolicy of the Slave Trade_ as soon as possible, I determined upon leaving Liverpool. [Footnote A: In London, Bristol, and Liverpool, I had already obtained the names of more than 20,000 seamen, in different voyages, knowing what had become of each.] I went round accordingly and took leave of my friends. The last of these was William Rathbone, and I have to regret, that it was also the last time I ever saw him. Independently of the gratitude I owed him for assisting me in this great cause, I respected him highly as a man: he possessed a fine understanding with a solid judgment: he was a person of extraordinary simplicity of manners. Though he lived in a state of pecuniary independence, he gave an example of great temperance, as well as of great humility of mind: but however humble he appeared, he had always the courage to dare to do that which was right, however it might resist the customs or the prejudices of men. In his own line of trade, which was that of a timber-merchant on an extensive scale, he would not allow any article to be sold for the use of a slave-ship, and he always refused those, who applied to him for materials for such purposes. But it is evident that it was his intention, if he had lived, to bear his testimony still more publicly upon this subject; for an advertisement, stating the ground of his refusal to furnish anything for this traffic upon Christian principles, with a memorandum for two advertisements in the Liverpool papers, was found among his papers at his decease. CHAPTER XIX Author proceeds to Manchester; finds a spirit rising among the people there for the abolition of the Slave Trade; is requested to deliver a discourse on the subject of the Slave Trade; heads of it, and extracts.--Proceeds to Keddleston, and Birmingham; finds a similar spirit at the latter place.--Revisits Bristol; new and difficult situation there.--Author crosses the Severn at night; unsuccessful termination of his journey; returns to London. I now took my departure from Liverpool, and proceeded to Manchester, where I arrived on the Friday evening. On the Saturday morning, Mr. Thomas Walker, attended by Mr. Cooper and Mr. Bayley of Hope, called upon me. They were then strangers to me. They came, they said, having heard of my arrival, to congratulate me on the spirit which was then beginning to show itself among the people of Manchester, and of other places, on the subject of the Slave Trade, and which would unquestionably manifest itself further by breaking out into petitions to parliament for its abolition. I was much surprised at this information. I had devoted myself so entirely to my object, that I had never had time to read a newspaper since I left London. I never knew, therefore, till now, that the attention of the public had been drawn to the subject in such a manner. And as to petitions, though I myself had suggested the idea at Bridgewater, Bristol, Gloucester, and two, or three other places, I had only done it provisionally, and this without either the knowledge or the consent of the committee. The news, however, as it astonished, so it almost overpowered me with joy. I rejoiced in it, because it was a proof of the general good disposition of my countrymen; because it showed me that the cause was such as needed only to be known, to be patronized; and because the manifestation of this spirit seemed to me to be an earnest, that success would ultimately follow. The gentleman now mentioned took me away with them, and introduced me to Mr. Thomas Phillips. We conversed, at first, upon the discoveries made in my journey; but in a little time, understanding that I had been educated as a clergyman, they came upon me with one voice, as if it had been before agreed upon, to deliver a discourse the next day, which was Sunday, on the subject of the Slave Trade. I was always aware that it was my duty to do all that I could with propriety to serve the cause I had undertaken, and yet I found myself embarrassed at their request. Foreseeing, as I have before related, that this cause might demand my attention to it for the greatest part of my life, I had given up all thoughts of my profession. I had hitherto but seldom exercised it, and then only to oblige some friend. I doubted, too, at the first view of the thing, whether the pulpit ought to be made an engine for political purposes, though I could not but consider the Slave Trade as a mass of crimes, and therefore the effort to get rid of it as a Christian duty. I had an idea, too, that sacred matters should not be entered upon without due consideration, nor prosecuted in a hasty, but in a decorous and solemn manner. I saw besides that, as it was then two o'clock in the afternoon, and this sermon was to be forthcoming the next day, there was not sufficient time to compose it properly. All these difficulties I suggested to my new friends without any reserve. But nothing that I could urge would satisfy them. They would not hear of a refusal, and I was obliged to give my consent, though I was not reconciled to the measure. When I went into the church it was so full that I could scarcely get to my place; for notice had been publicly given, though I knew nothing of it, that such a discourse would be delivered. I was surprised, also, to find a great crowd of black people standing round the pulpit. There might be forty or fifty of them. The text that I took, as the best to be found in such a hurry, was the following:--"Thou shalt not oppress a stranger, for ye know the heart of a stranger, seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt." I took an opportunity of showing, from these words, that Moses, in endeavouring to promote among the children of Israel a tender disposition towards those unfortunate strangers who had come under their dominion, reminded them of their own state when strangers in Egypt, as one of the most forcible arguments which could be used on such an occasion. For they could not have forgotten that the Egyptians "had made them serve with rigour; that they had made their lives bitter with hard bondage, in mortar, and in brick, and in all manner of service in the field; and that all the service, wherein they made them serve, was with rigour." The argument, therefore, of Moses was simply this:--"Ye knew well, when ye were strangers in Egypt, the nature of your own feelings. Were you not made miserable by your debased situation there? But if so, you must be sensible that the stranger, who has the same heart, or the same feelings with yourselves, must experience similar suffering, if treated in a similar manner. I charge you, then, knowing this, to stand clear of the crime of his oppression." The law, then, by which Moses commanded the children of Israel to regulate their conduct with respect to the usage of the stranger, I showed to be a law of universal and eternal obligation, and for this, among other reasons, that it was neither more nor less than the Christian law, which appeared afterwards, that we should not do that to others which we should be unwilling to have done unto ourselves. Having gone into these statements at some length, I made an application of them in the following words:-- "This being the case, and this law of Moses being afterwards established into a fundamental precept of Christianity, I must apply it to facts of the present day, and I am sorry that I must apply it to--ourselves. "And first,--Are there no strangers whom we oppress? I fear the wretched African will say, that he drinks the cup of sorrow, and that he drinks it at our hands. Torn from his Native soil, and from his family and friends, he is immediately forced into a situation, of all others the most degrading, where he and his progeny are considered as cattle, as possessions, and as the possessions of a man to whom he never gave offence. "It is a melancholy fact, but it can be abundantly proved, that great numbers of the unfortunate strangers, who are carried from Africa to our colonies, are fraudulently and forcibly taken from their native soil. To descant but upon a single instance of the kind must be productive of pain to the ear of sensibility and freedom. Consider the sensations of the person, who is thus carried off by the ruffians, who have been lurking to intercept him. Separated from everything which he esteems in life, without the possibility even of bidding his friends adieu, beheld him overwhelmed in tears--wringing his hands in despair--looking backwards upon the spot where all his hopes and wishes lay;--while his family at home are waiting for him with anxiety and suspense--are waiting, perhaps, for sustenance--are agitated between hope and fear--till length of absence confirms the latter, and they are immediately plunged into inconceivable misery and distress. "If this instance, then, is sufficiently melancholy of itself, and is at all an act of oppression, how complicated will our guilt appear who are the means of snatching away thousands annually in the same manner, and who force them and their families into the same unhappy situation, without either remorse or shame!" Having proceeded to show, in a more particular manner than I can detail here, how, by means of the Slave Trade, we oppressed the stranger, I made an inquiry into the other branch of the subject, or how far we had a knowledge of his heart. To elucidate this point, I mentioned several specific instances out of those which I had collected in my journey, and which I could depend upon as authentic, of honour--gratitude--fidelity--filial, fraternal, and conjugal affection--and of the finest sensibility on the part of those who had been brought into our colonies from Africa in the character of slaves; and then I proceeded for a while in the following words:-- "If, then, we oppress the stranger, as I have shown, and if, by a knowledge of his heart, we find that he is a person of the same passions and feelings as ourselves, we are certainly breaking, by means of the prosecution of the Slave Trade, that fundamental principle of Christianity, which says, that we shall not do that unto another which we wish should not be done unto ourselves, and, I fear, cutting ourselves off from all expectation of the Divine blessing. For how inconsistent is our conduct! We come into the temple of God; we fall prostrate before Him; we pray to Him, that He will have mercy upon us. But how shall He have mercy upon us, who have had no mercy upon others! We pray to Him, again, that He will deliver us from evil. But how shall He deliver us from evil, who are daily invading the rights of the injured African, and heaping misery on his head!" I attempted, lastly, to show, that, though the sin of the Slave Trade had been hitherto a sin of ignorance, and might, therefore, have so far been winked at, yet as the crimes and miseries belonging to it became known, it would attach even to those who had no concern in it, if they suffered it to continue either without notice or reproach, or if they did not exert themselves in a reasonable manner for its suppression. I noticed particularly, the case of Tyre and Sidon, which were the Bristol and the Liverpool of those times. A direct judgment had been pronounced by the prophet Joel against these cities, and, what is remarkable, for the prosecution of this same barbarous traffic. Thus, "And what have ye to do with me, O Tyre and Sidon, and all the coasts of Palestine? Ye have cast lots for my people. Ye have sold a girl for wine. The children of Judah, and the children of Jerusalem, have ye sold unto the Grecians, that ye might remove them far from their own border. Behold! I will raise them out of the place whither ye have sold them, and will recompense your wickedness on your own heads." Such was the language of the prophet; and Tyre and Sidon fell, as he had pointed out, when the inhabitants were either cut off, or carried into slavery. Having thrown out these ideas to the notice of the audience, I concluded in the following words:-- "If, then, we wish to avert the heavy national judgment which is hanging over our heads, (for must we not believe that our crimes towards the innocent Africans lie recorded against us in heaven?) let us endeavour to assert their cause. Let us nobly withstand the torrent of the evil, however inveterately it may be fixed among the customs of the times; not, however, using our liberty as a cloak of maliciousness against those, who, perhaps, without due consideration, have the misfortune to be concerned in it, but upon proper motives, and in a proper spirit, as the servants of God; so that if the sun should be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, and the very heaven should fall upon us, we may fall in the general convulsion without dismay, conscious that we have done our duty in endeavouring to succour the distressed, and that the stain of the blood of Africa is not upon us." From Manchester I proceeded to Keddleston in Derbyshire, to spend a day with Lord Scarsdale, and to show him my little collection of African productions, and to inform him of my progress since I last saw him. Here a letter was forwarded to me from the Reverend John Toogood, of Keington Magna in Dorsetshire, though I was then unknown to him. He informed me that he had addressed several letters to the inhabitants of his own county, through their provincial paper, on the subject of the Slave Trade, which letters had produced a considerable effect. It appeared, however, that, when he began them, he did not know of the formation of our committee, or that he had a single coadjutor in the cause. From Keddleston I turned off to Birmingham, being desirous of visiting Bristol in my way to London, to see if anything new had occurred since I was there. I was introduced by letter, at Birmingham, to Sampson and Charles Lloyd, the brothers of John Lloyd, belonging to our committee, and members of the religious society of the Quakers. I was highly gratified in finding that these, in conjunction with Mr. Russell, had been attempting to awaken the attention of the inhabitants to this great subject, and that in consequence of their laudable efforts, a spirit was beginning to show itself there, as at Manchester, in favour of the abolition of the Slave Trade. The kind manner in which these received me, and the deep interest which they appeared to take in our cause, led me to an esteem for them, which, by means of subsequent visits, grew into a solid friendship. At length I arrived at Bristol about ten o'clock on Friday morning. But what was my surprise, when almost the first thing I heard from my friend Harry Gandy was, that a letter had been despatched to me to Liverpool, nearly a week ago, requesting me immediately to repair to this place; for that in consequence of notice from the lords of the Admiralty, advertised in the public papers, the trial of the chief mate, whom I had occasioned to be taken up at Bristol, for the murder of William Lines, was coming on at the Old Bailey, and that not an evidence was to be found. This intelligence almost paralyzed me. I cannot describe my feelings on receiving it. I reproached myself with my own obstinacy for having resisted the advice of Mr. Burges, as has been before explained. All his words now came fresh into my mind. I was terrified, too, with the apprehension that my own reputation was now at stake. I foresaw all the calumnies which would be spread, if the evidences were not forthcoming on this occasion. I anticipated, also, the injury which the cause itself might sustain, if, at our outset, as it were, I should not be able to substantiate what I had publicly advanced; and yet the mayor of Bristol had heard and determined the case,--he had not only examined, but re-examined, the evidences,--he had not only committed, but re-committed, the accused: this was the only consolation I had. I was sensible, however, amidst all these workings of my mind, that not a moment was to be lost, and I began, therefore, to set on foot an inquiry as to the absent persons. On waiting upon the mother of William Lines, I learnt from her, that two out of four of the witnesses had been bribed by the slave-merchants, and sent to sea, that they might not be forthcoming at the time of the trial; that the two others had been tempted also, but that they had been enabled to resist the temptation; that, desirous of giving their testimony in this cause, they had gone into some coal-mine between Neath and Swansea, where they might support themselves till they should be called for; and that she had addressed a letter to them, at the request of Mr. Gandy, above a week ago, in which she had desired them to come to Bristol immediately, but that she had received no answer from them. She then concluded, either that her letter had miscarried, or that they had left the place. I determined to lose no time, after the receipt of this intelligence; and I prevailed upon a young man, whom my friend Harry Gandy had recommended to me, to set off directly, and to go in search of them. He was to travel all night, and to bring them, or, if weary himself with his journey, to send them up, without ever sleeping on the road. It was now between twelve and one in the afternoon. I saw him depart. In the interim I went to Thompson's, and other places, to inquire if any other of the seamen, belonging to the Thomas, were to be found; but, though I hunted diligently till four o'clock, I could learn nothing satisfactory. I then went to dinner, but I grew uneasy. I was fearful that my messenger might be at a loss, or that he might want assistance on some occasion or other. I now judged that it would have been more prudent if two persons had been sent, who might have conferred with each other, and who might have divided, when they had reached Neath, and gone to different mines, to inquire for the witnesses. These thoughts disturbed me. Those, also, which had occurred when I first heard of the vexatious way in which things were situated, renewed themselves painfully to my mind. My own obstinacy in resisting the advice of Mr. Burges, and the fear of injury to my own reputation, and to that of the cause I had undertaken, were again before my eyes. I became still more uneasy: and I had no way of relieving my feelings, but by resolving to follow the young man, and to give him all the aid in my power. It was now near six o'clock. The night was cold and rainy and almost dark. I got down, however, safe to the passage-house, and desired to be conveyed across the Severn. The people in the house tried to dissuade me from my design. They said no one would accompany me, for it was quite a tempest. I replied that I would pay those handsomely who would go with me. A person present asked me if I would give him three guineas for a boat. I replied I would. He could not for shame retract. He went out, and in about half an hour brought a person with him. We were obliged to have a lanthorn as far as the boat. We got on board, and went off. But such a passage I had never before witnessed. The wind was furious. The waves ran high. I could see nothing but white foam. The boat, also, was tossed up and down in such a manner that it was with great difficulty I could keep my seat. The rain, too, poured down in such torrents that we were all of us presently wet through. We had been, I apprehend, more than an hour in this situation, when the boatmen began to complain of cold and weariness. I saw, also, that they began to be uneasy, for they did not know where they were. They had no way of forming any judgment about their course, but by knowing the point from whence the wind blew, and by keeping the boat in a relative position towards it. I encouraged them as well as I could, though I was beginning to be uneasy myself, and also sick. In about a quarter of an hour they began to complain again. They said they could pull no longer. They acknowledged, however, that they were getting nearer to the shore, though on what part of it they could not tell. I could do nothing but bid them hope. They then began to reproach themselves for having come out with me. I told them I had not forced them, but that it was a matter of their own choice. In the midst of this conversation I informed them that I thought I saw either a star or a light straight forward. They both looked at it and pronounced it to be a light, and added with great joy that it must be a light in the Passage-house; and so we found it; for in about ten minutes afterwards we landed, and, on reaching the house, learnt that a servant maid had been accidentally talking to some other person on the stair-case, near a window, with a candle in her hand, and that the light had appeared to us from that circumstance. It was now near eleven o'clock. My messenger, it appeared, had arrived safe about five in the evening, and had proceeded on his route. I was very cold on my arrival, and sick also. There seemed to be a chilliness all over me, both within and without. Indeed I had not a dry thread about me. I took some hot brandy and water, and went to bed; but desired, as soon as my clothes were thoroughly dried, to be called up, that I might go forward. This happened at about two in the morning, when I got up. I took my breakfast by the fire-side. I then desired the post-boy, if he should meet any persons on the road, to stop and inform me, as I did not know whether the witnesses might not be coming up by themselves, and whether they might not have passed my messenger without knowing his errand. Having taken these precautions, I departed. I travelled on, but we met no one. I traced, however, my messenger through Newport, Cardiff, and Cowbridge. I was assured, also, that he had not passed me on his return; nor had any of those passed me whom he was seeking. At length, when I was within about two miles of Neath I met him. He had both the witnesses under his care. This was a matter of great joy to me. I determined to return with them. It was now nearly two in the afternoon. I accordingly went back, but we did not reach the Passage-house again till nearly two the next morning. During our journey, neither the wind nor the rain had much abated. It was quite dark on our arrival. We found only one person, and he had been sitting up in expectation of us. It was in vain that I asked him for a boat to put us across the water. He said all the boatmen were in bed; and, if they were up, he was sure that none of them would venture out. It was thought a mercy by all of them that we were not lost last night. Difficulties were also started about horses to take us another way. Unable, therefore, to proceed, we took refreshment and went to bed. We arrived at Bristol between nine and ten the next morning; but I was so ill that I could go no further; I had been cold and shivering ever since my first passage across the Severn; and I had now a violent sore throat and a fever with it. All I could do was to see the witnesses off for London, and to assign them to the care of an attorney, who should conduct them to the trial. For this purpose I gave them a letter to a friend of the name of Langdale. I saw them depart. The mother of William Lines accompanied them. By a letter received on Tuesday, I learnt that they had not arrived in town till Monday morning at three o'clock; that at about nine or ten they found out the office of Mr. Langdale; that, on inquiring for him, they heard he was in the country, but that he would be home at noon; that, finding he had not then arrived, they acquainted his clerk with the nature of their business, and opened my letter to show him the contents of it; that the clerk went with them to consult some other person on the subject, when he conveyed them to the Old Bailey; but that, on inquiring at the proper place about the introduction of the witnesses, he learnt that the chief mate had been brought to the bar in the morning, and, no person then appearing against him, that he had been discharged by proclamation. Such was the end of all my anxiety and labour in this affair. I was very ill when I received the letter; but I saw the necessity of bearing up against the disappointment, and I endeavoured to discharge the subject from my mind with the following wish, that the narrow escape which the chief mate had experienced, and which was entirely owing to the accidental circumstances now explained, might have the effect, under Providence, of producing in him a deep contrition for his offence, and of awakening him to a serious attention to his future life[A]. [Footnote A: He had undoubtedly a narrow escape; for Mr. Langdale's clerk had learnt that he had no evidence to produce in his favour. The slave-merchants, it seems, had counted most upon bribing those who were to come against him, to disappear.] I was obliged to remain in Bristol a few days longer in consequence of my illness; but as soon as I was able I reached London, when I attended a sitting of the committee after an absence of more than five months. At this committee it was strongly recommended to me to publish a second edition of my _Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species_, and to insert such of the facts in it in their proper places, out of those collected in my late travels, as I might judge to be productive of an interesting effect. There appeared, also, an earnest desire in the committee, that, directly after this, I should begin my _Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave Trade_. In compliance with their wishes, I determined upon both these works; but I resolved to retire into the country, that, by being subject to less interruption there, I might the sooner finish them. It was proper, however, that I should settle many things in London before I took my departure from it; and, among these, that I should find out George Ormond and Patrick Murray, whom I had sent from Liverpool on account of the information they had given me relative to the murder of Peter Green. I saw no better way than to take them before Sir Sampson Wright, who was then at the head of the police of the metropolis. He examined and cross-examined them several times, and apart from each other. He then desired their evidence to be drawn up in the form of depositions, copies of which he gave to me. He had no doubt that the murder would be proved. The circumstances of the deceased being in good health at nine o'clock in the evening, and of his severe sufferings till eleven, and of the nature of the wounds discovered to have been made on his person, and of his death by one in the morning, could never, he said, be done away by any evidence who should state that he had been subject to other disorders which might have occasioned his decease. He found himself, therefore, compelled to apply to the magistrates of Liverpool, for the apprehension of three of the principal officers of the ship; but the answer was that the ship had sailed, and that they whose names had been specified were then, none of them, to be found in Liverpool. It was now for me to consider whether I would keep the two witnesses, Ormond and Murray, for a year, or perhaps longer, at my own expense, and run the hazard of the death of the officers in the interim, and of other calculable events. I had felt so deeply for the usage of the seamen in this cruel traffic, which indeed had embittered all my journey, that I had no less than nine prosecutions at law upon my hands on their account, and nineteen witnesses detained at my own cost. The committee in London could give me no assistance in these cases. They were the managers of the public purse for the abolition of the Slave Trade, and any expenses of this kind were neither within the limits of their object, nor within the pale of their duty. From the individuals belonging to it, I picked up a few guineas by way of private subscription, and this was all. But a vast load still remained upon me, and such as had occasioned uneasiness to my mind. I thought it, therefore, imprudent to detain the evidences for this purpose for so long a time, and I sent them back to Liverpool. I commenced, however, a prosecution against the captain at common law for his barbarous usage of them, and desired that it might be pushed on as vigorously as possible; and the result was, that his attorney was so alarmed, particularly after knowing what had been done by Sir Sampson Wright, that he entered into a compromise to pay all the expenses of the suit hitherto incurred, and to give Ormond and Murray a sum of money as damages for the injury which they themselves had sustained. This compromise was acceded to. The men received the money, and signed the release, (of which I insisted upon a copy,) and went to sea again in another trade, thanking me for my interference in their behalf. But by this copy, which I have now in my possession, it appears that care was taken by the captain's attorney to render their future evidence in the case of Peter Green almost impracticable; for it was there wickedly stated, "that George Ormond and Patrick Murray did then and there bind themselves in certain penalties that they would neither encourage nor support any action at law against the said captain, by or at the suit or prosecution of any other of the seamen now or late on board the said ship, and that they released the said captain also from all manner of actions, suits, and cause and causes of action, informations, prosecutions, and other proceedings which they then had, or ever had, or could or might have, by reason of the said assaults upon their own persons, or _other wrongs or injuries done by the said captain heretofore and to the date of this release_[A]." [Footnote A: None of the nine actions before mentioned ever came to a trial; but they were all compromised by paying sums to the injured parties.] CHAPTER XX Labours of the committee during the author's journey; Quakers the first to notice its institution; General Baptists the next.--Correspondence opened with American societies for Abolition.--First individual who addressed the committee was Mr. William Smith.--Thanks voted to Ramsay.--Committee prepares lists of persons to whom to send its publications; Barclay, Taylor, and Wedgewood, elected members of the committee.--Letters from Brissot and others.--Granville Sharp elected chairman,--Seal ordered to be engraved.--Letters from different correspondents, as they offered their services to the committee. The committee, during my absence, had attended regularly at their posts; they had been both vigilant and industrious; they were, in short, the persons who had been the means of raising the public spirit which I had observed first at Manchester, and afterwards as I journeyed on. It will be proper, therefore, that I should now say something of their labours, and of the fruits of them: and if, in doing this, I should be more minute for a few pages than some would wish, I must apologize for myself by saying, that there are others who would be sorry to lose the knowledge of the particular manner in which the foundation was laid, and the superstructure advanced, of a work which will make so brilliant an appearance in our history, as that of the abolition of the Slave Trade. The committee having dispersed five hundred circular letters, giving an account of their institution in London and its neighbourhood, the Quakers were the first to notice it. This they did in their yearly epistle, of which the following is an extract:--"We have also thankfully to believe there is a growing attention in many, not of our religious society, to the subject of negro slavery; and that the minds of the people are more and more enlarged to consider it as an aggregate of every species of evil, and to see the utter inconsistency of upholding it by the authority of any nation whatever, especially of such as punish, with loss of life, crimes whose magnitude bears scarce any proportion to this complicated iniquity." The General Baptists were the next; for on the 22nd of June, Stephen Lowdell and Dan Taylor attended as a deputation from the annual meeting of that religious body, to inform the committee, that those whom they represented approved their proceedings, and that they would countenance the object of their institution. The first individual who addressed the committee was Mr. William Smith, the late member for Norwich. In his letter, he expressed the pleasure he had received in finding persons associated in the support of a cause in which he himself had taken a deep interest. He gave them advice as to their future plans. He promised them all the co-operation in his power: and he exhorted them not to despair, even if their first attempt should be unsuccessful; "for consolation," says he, "will not be wanting. You may rest satisfied that the attempt will be productive of some good; that the fervent wishes of the righteous will be on your side, and that the blessing of those who are ready to perish will fall upon you." And as Mr. Smith was the first person to address the committee as an individual after its formation, so, next to Mr. Wilberforce and the members of it, he gave the most time and attention to the promotion of the cause. On the 5th of July, the committee opened a correspondence, by means of William Dillwyn, with the societies of Philadelphia and New York, of whose institution an account has been given. At this sitting a due sense was signified of the services of Mr. Ramsay, and a desire of his friendly communications when convenient. The two next meetings were principally occupied in making out lists of the names of persons in the country, to whom the committee should send their publications for distribution. For this purpose, every member was to bring in an account of those whom he knew personally, and whom he believed not only to be willing, but qualified on account of their judgment and the weight of their character, to take an useful part in the work which was to be assigned to them. It is a remarkable circumstance, that when the lists were arranged, the committee, few as they were, found they had friends in no less than thirty-nine counties[A], in each of which there were several, so that a knowledge of their institution could now be soon diffusively spread. [Footnote A: The Quakers, by means of their discipline, have a greater personal knowledge of each other, than the members of any other religious society. But two-thirds of the committee were Quakers, and hence the circumstance is explained. Hence also nine-tenths of our first coadjutors were Quakers.] The committee having now fixed upon their correspondents, ordered five hundred of the circular letters which have been before mentioned, and five thousand of the _Summary View_, an account of which has been given also, to be printed. On account of the increase of business, which was expected in consequence of the circulation of the preceding publications, Robert Barclay, John Vickris Taylor, and Josiah Wedgewood, Esq., were added to the committee; and it was then resolved, that any three members might call a meeting when necessary. On the 27th of August, the new correspondents began to make their appearance. This sitting was distinguished by the receipt of letters from two celebrated persons. The first was from Brissot, dated Paris, August the 18th, who, it may be recollected, was an active member of the National Convention of France, and who suffered in the persecution of Robespierre. The second was from Mr. John Wesley, whose useful labours as a minister of the Gospel, are so well known to our countrymen. Brissot, in his letter, congratulated the members of the committee, on having come together for so laudable an object. He offered his own assistance towards the promotion of it. He desired, also, that his valuable friend Claviere (who suffered also under Robespierre) might be joined to him, and that both might be acknowledged by the committee, as associates in what he called this heavenly work. He purposed to translate and circulate through France such publications as they might send him from time to time; and to appoint bankers in Paris, who might receive subscriptions, and remit them to London, for the good of their common cause. In the mean time, if his own countrymen should be found to take an interest in this great cause, it was not improbable that a committee might be formed in Paris, to endeavour to secure the attainment of the same object from the government in France. The thanks of the committee were voted to Brissot for this disinterested offer of his services, and he was elected an honorary and corresponding member. In reply, however, to his letter, it was stated that, as the committee had no doubt of procuring from the generosity of their own nation sufficient funds for effecting the object of their institution, they declined the acceptance of any pecuniary aid from the people of France; but recommended him to attempt the formation of a committee in his own country, and to inform them of his progress, and to make to them such other communications as he might deem necessary upon the subject from time to time. Mr. Wesley, whose letter was read next, informed the committee of the great satisfaction which he also had experienced, when he heard of their formation. He conceived that their design, while it would destroy the Slave Trade, would also strike at the root of the shocking abomination of slavery also. He desired to forewarn them that they must expect difficulties and great opposition from those who were interested in the system; that these were a powerful body; and that they would raise all their forces, when they perceived their craft to be in danger. They would employ hireling writers, who would have neither justice nor mercy. But the committee were not to be dismayed by such treatment, nor even if some of those who professed goodwill towards them, should turn against them. As for himself, he would do all he could to promote the object of their institution. He would reprint a new and large edition of his _Thought on Slavery_, and circulate it among his friends in England and Ireland, to whom he would add a few words in favour of their design. And then he concluded in these words: "I commend you to Him who is able to carry you through all opposition, and support you under all discouragements." On the 4th, 11th, and 18th of September, the committee were employed variously. Among other things, they voted their thanks to Mr. Leigh, a clergyman of the Established Church, for the offer of his services for the county of Norfolk. They ordered, also, one thousand of the circular letters to be additionally printed. At one of these meetings a resolution was made, that Granville Sharp, Esq. be appointed chairman. This appointment, though now first formally made in the minute book, was always understood to have taken place; but the modesty of Mr. Sharp was such that, though repeatedly pressed, he would never consent to take the chair; and he generally refrained from coming into the room till after he knew it to be taken. Nor could he be prevailed upon, even after this resolution, to alter his conduct: for though he continued to sign the papers, which were handed to him by virtue of holding this office, he never was once seated as the chairman, during the twenty years in which he attended at these meetings. I thought it not improper to mention this trait in his character. Conscious that he engaged in the cause of his fellow-creatures, solely upon the sense of his duty as a Christian, he seems to have supposed either that he had done nothing extraordinary to merit such a distinction, or to have been fearful lest the acceptance of it should bring a stain upon the motive, on which alone he undertook it. On the 2nd and 16th of October two sittings took place; at the latter of which a sub-committee, which had been appointed for the purpose, brought in a design for a seal. An African was seen, (as in the figure[A],) in chains, in a supplicating posture, kneeling with one knee upon the ground, and with both his hands lifted up to heaven, and round the seal was observed the following motto, as if he was uttering the words himself,--"Am I not a Man and a Brother?" The design having been approved of, a seal was ordered to be engraved from it. I may mention here that this seal, simple as the design was, was made to contribute largely, as will be shown in its proper place, towards turning the attention of our countrymen to the case of the injured Africans, and of procuring a warm interest in their favour. [Footnote A: The figure is rather larger than that in the seal.] [Illustration: Seal] On the 30th of October several letters were read: one of these was from Brissot and Claviere conjointly; in this they acknowledged the satisfaction they had received on being considered as associates in the humane work of the abolition of the Slave Trade, and correspondents in France for the promotion of it. They declared it to be their intention to attempt the establishment of a committee there, on the same principles as that in England; but, in consequence of the different constitutions of the two governments, they gave the committee reason to suppose, that their proceedings must be different, as well as slower than those in England, for the same object. A second letter was read from Mr. John Wesley. He said that he had now read the publications which the committee had sent him, and that he took, if possible, a still deeper interest in their cause. He exhorted them to more than ordinary diligence and perseverance; to be prepared for opposition; to be cautious about the manner of procuring information and evidence, that no stain might fall upon their character; and to take care that the question should be argued, as well upon the consideration of interest as of humanity and justice, the former of which he feared would have more weight than the latter; and he recommended them and their glorious concern, as before, to the protection of Him who was able to support them. Letters were read from Dr. Price, approving the institution of the committee; from Charles Lloyd of Birmingham, stating the interest which the inhabitants of that town were taking in it; and from William Russell, Esq. of the same place, stating the same circumstance, and that he would co-operate with the former in calling a public meeting, and in doing whatever else was necessary for the promotion of so good a cause. A letter was read also from Manchester, signed conjointly by George Barton Thomas Cooper, John Ferriar, Thomas Walker, Thomas Phillips, Thomas Butterworth Bayley, and George Lloyd, Esqrs., promising their assistance from that place. Two others were read from John Kerrich, Esq., of Harleston, and from Joshua Grigby, Esq., of Drinkston, each tendering their services, one for the county Of Norfolk, and the other for the county of Suffolk. The latter concluded by saying, "With respect to myself, in no possible instance of my public conduct can I receive so much sincere satisfaction, as I shall, by the vote I will most assuredly give in parliament, in support of this most worthy effort to suppress a traffic, which is contrary to all the feelings of humanity, and the laws of our religion." A letter was read also at this sitting from Major Cartwright, of Marnham, in which he offered his own services, in conjunction with those of the Rev. John Charlesworth, of Ossington, for the county of Nottingham. "I congratulate you," says he, in this letter, "on the happy prospect of some considerable step at least being taken, towards the abolition of a traffic, which is not only impious in itself, but of all others tends most to vitiate the human mind. "Although procrastination is generally pernicious in cases depending upon the feelings of the heart, I should almost fear that, without very uncommon exertions, you will scarcely be prepared early in the next sessions, for bringing the business into parliament with the greatest advantage. But, be that as it may, let the best use be made of the intermediate time; and then, if there be a superintending Providence, which governs everything in the moral world, there is every reason to hope for a blessing on this particular work." The last letter was from Robert Boucher Nickolls, dean of Middleham, in Yorkshire. In this he stated that he was a native of the West Indies, and had travelled on the continent of America. He then offered some important information to the committee as his mite, towards the abolition of the Slave Trade, and as an encouragement to them to persevere. He attempted to prove, that the natural increase of the negroes already in the West Indian islands would be fully adequate to the cultivation of them, without any fresh supplies from Africa; and that such natural increase would be secured by humane treatment. With this view, he instanced the two estates of Mr. MacMahon and of Dr. Mapp, in the island of Barbados. The first required continual supplies of new slaves, in consequence of the severe and cruel usage adopted upon it. The latter overflowed with labourers in consequence of a system of kindness, so that it almost peopled another estate. Having related these instances, he cited others in North America, where, though the climate was less favourable to the constitution of the Africans, but their treatment better, they increased also. He combated, from his own personal knowledge, the argument, that self-interest was always sufficient to insure good usage, and maintained that there was only one way of securing it, which was the entire abolition of the Slave Trade. He showed in what manner the latter measure would operate to the desired end: he then dilated on the injustice and inconsistency of this trade, and supported the policy of the abolition of it, both to the planter, the merchant, and the nation. This letter of the Dean of Middleham, which was a little Essay of itself, was deemed of so much importance by the committee, but particularly as it was the result of local knowledge, that they not only passed a resolution of thanks to him for it, but desired his permission to print it. The committee sat again on the 13th and 22nd of November. At the first of these sittings, a letter was read from Henry Grimston, Esq., of Whitwell Hall, near York, offering his services for the promotion of the cause in his own county. At the second, the Dean of Middleham's answer was received. He acquiesced in the request of the committee; when five thousand of his letters were ordered immediately to be printed. On the 22nd a letter was read from Mr. James Mackenzie, of the town of Cambridge, desiring to forward the object of the institution there. Two letters were read also, one from the late Mr. Jones, tutor of Trinity College, and the other from Mr. William Frend, fellow of Jesus College. It appeared from these, that the gentlemen of the University of Cambridge were beginning to take a lively interest in the abolition of the Slave Trade, among whom Dr. Watson, the bishop of Llandaff, was particularly conspicuous. At this committee two thousand new _Summary View_ were ordered to be printed, and the circular letter to be prefixed to each. CHAPTER XXI. Labours of the committee continued to February, 1788.--Committee elect new members; vote thanks to Falconbridge and others; receive letters from Grove and others; circulate numerous publications; make a report; send circular letters to corporate bodies; release negroes unjustly detained; find new correspondents in Archdeacon Paley, the Marquis de la Fayette, Bishop of Cloyne, Bishop of Peterborough, and in many others. The labours of the committee, during my absence, were as I have now explained them; but as I was obliged, almost immediately, on joining them, to retire into the country to begin my new work, I must give an account of their further services till I joined them again, or till the middle of February, 1788. During sittings which were held from the middle of December, 1787, to the 18th of January, 1788, the business of the committee had so increased, that it was found proper to make an addition to their number. Accordingly James Martin and William Morton Pitt, Esquires, members of parliament, and Robert Hunter, and Joseph Smith, Esquires, were chosen members of it. The knowledge also of the institution of the society had spread to such an extent, and the eagerness among individuals to see the publications of the committee had been so great, that the press was kept almost constantly going during the time now mentioned. No fewer than three thousand lists of the subscribers, with a circular letter prefixed to them, explaining the object of the institution, were ordered to be printed within this period, to which are to be added fifteen hundred of BENEZET'S _Account of Guinea_, three thousand of the DEAN of MIDDLEHAM'S _Letters_, five thousand _Summary View,_ and two thousand of a new edition of the _Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species_, which I had enlarged before the last of these sittings from materials collected in my late tour. The thanks of the committee were voted during this period to Mr. Alexander Falconbridge, for the assistance he had given me in my inquiries into the nature of the Slave Trade. As Mr. Falconbridge had but lately returned from Africa, and as facts and circumstances, which had taken place but a little time ago, were less liable to objections (inasmuch as they proved the present state of things) than those which happened in earlier times, he was prevailed upon to write an account of what he had seen during the four voyages he had made to that continent; and accordingly, within the period which has been mentioned, he began his work. The committee, during these sittings, kept up a correspondence with those gentlemen who were mentioned in the last chapter to have addressed them. But, besides these, they found other voluntary correspondents in the following persons, Capell Lofft, Esq., of Troston, and the Reverend B. Brome, of Ipswich, both in the county of Suffolk. These made an earnest tender of their services for those parts of the county in which they resided. Similar offers were made by Mr. Hammond, of Stanton, near St. Ives, in the county of Huntingdon, by Thomas Parker, Esq., of Beverly, and by William Grove, Esq., of Litchfield, for their respective towns and neighbourhoods. A letter was received also within this period from the society established at Philadelphia, accompanied with documents in proof of the good effects of the manumission of slaves, and with specimens of writing and drawing by the same. In this letter the society congratulated the committee in London on its formation, and professed its readiness to co-operate in any way in which it could me made useful. During these sittings, a letter was also read from Dr. Bathurst, afterwards bishop of Norwich, dated Oxford, December 17th, in which he offered his services in the promotion of the cause. Another was read, which stated that Dr. Home, president of Magdalen College in the same university, and afterwards bishop of the same see as the former, highly favoured it. Another was read from Mr. Lambert, fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, in which he signified to the committee the great desire he had to promote the object of their institution. He had drawn up a number of queries relative to the state of the unhappy slaves in the islands, which he had transmitted to a friend, who had resided in them, to answer. These answers he purposed to forward to the committee on their arrival. Another was read from Dr. Hinchliffe, bishop of Peterborough, in which he testified his hearty approbation of the institution, and of the design of it, and his determination to support the object of it in parliament. He gave in at the same time a plan, which he called _Thoughts on the Means of Abolishing the Slave Trade in Great Britain and in our West Indian Islands_, for the consideration of the committee. At the last of these sittings, the committee thought it right to make a report to the public relative to the state and progress of their cause; but as this was composed from materials which the reader has now in his possession, it may not be necessary to produce it. On the 22nd and 29th of January, and on the 5th and 12th of February, 1788, sittings were also held. During these, the business still increasing, John Maitland, Esq., was elected a member of the committee. As the correspondents of the committee were now numerous, and as these solicited publications for the use of those who applied to them, as well as of those to whom they wished to give a knowledge of the subject, the press was kept in constant employ during this period also. Five thousand two hundred and fifty additional _Reports_ were ordered to be printed, and also three thousand of FALCONBRIDGE'S _Account of the Slave Trade_, the manuscript of which was now finished. At this time, Mr. Newton, rector of St. Mary Woolnoth in London, who had been in his youth to the coast of Africa, but who had now become a serious and useful divine, felt it his duty to write his _Thoughts on the African Slave Trade_. The committee, having obtained permission, printed three thousand copies of these also. During these sittings, the chairman was requested to have frequent communication with Dr. Porteus, bishop of London, as he had expressed his desire of becoming useful to the institution. A circular letter also, with the report before mentioned, was ordered to be sent to the majors of several corporate towns. A case also occurred, which it may not be improper to notice. The treasurer reported that he had been informed by the chairman, that the captain of the Albion, merchant ship, trading to the Bay of Honduras, had picked up at sea, from a Spanish ship, which had been wrecked, two black men, one named Henry Martin Burrowes, a free native of Antigua, who had served in the royal navy, and the other named Antonio Berrat, a Spanish negro; that the said captain detained these men on board his ship, then lying in the river Thames, against their will; and that, he would not give them up. Upon this report, it was resolved that the cause of these unfortunate captives should be espoused by the committee. Mr. Sharp accordingly caused a writ of habeas-corpus to be served upon them; soon after which he had the satisfaction of reporting, that they had been delivered from the place of their confinement. During these sittings the following letters were read also: One from Richard How, of Apsley, offering his services to the committee. Another from the Reverend Christopher Wyvill, of Burton Hall, in Yorkshire, to the same effect. Another from Archdeacon Plymley, (afterwards Corbett,) in which he expressed the deep interest he took in this cause of humanity and freedom, and the desire he had of making himself useful as far as he could towards the support of it; and he wished to know, as the Clergy of the diocese of Lichfield and Coventry were anxious to espouse it also, whether a petition to parliament from them, as a part of the Established Church, would not be desirable at the present season. Another from Archdeacon Paley, containing his sentiments on a plan for the abolition of the Slave Trade, and the manumission of slaves in our islands, and offering his future services, and wishing success to the undertaking. Another from Dr. Sharp, prebendary of Durham, inquiring into the probable amount of the subscriptions which might be wanted, and for what purposes, with a view of serving the cause. Another from Dr. Woodward, bishop of Cloyne, in which he approved of the institution of the committee. He conceived the Slave Trade to be no less disgraceful to the legislature and injurious to the true commercial interests of the country, than it was productive of unmerited misery to the unhappy objects of it, and repugnant both to the principles and the spirit of the Christian religion. He wished to be placed among the assertors of the liberty of his fellow-creatures, and he was therefore desirous of subscribing largely, as well as of doing all he could, both in England and Ireland, for the promotion of such a charitable work. A communication was made, soon after the reading of the last letter, through the medium of the Chevalier de Ternant, from the celebrated Marquis de la Fayette of France. The Marquis signified the singular pleasure he had received on hearing of the formation of a committee in England for the abolition of the Slave Trade, and the earnest desire he had to promote the object of it. With this view, he informed the committee that he should attempt the formation of a similar society in France. This he conceived to be one of the most effectual measures he could devise for securing the object in question; for he was of opinion, that if the two great nations of France and England were to unite in this humane and Christian work, the other European nations might be induced to follow the example. The committee, on receiving the two latter communications, resolved, that the chairman should return their thanks to the Bishop of Cloyne, and the Marquis de la Fayette, and the Chevalier de Ternant, and that he should inform them, that they were enrolled among the honorary and corresponding members of the society. The other letters read during these sittings were to convey information to the committee, that people in various parts of the kingdom had then felt themselves so deeply interested in behalf of the injured Africans, that they had determined either on public meetings, or had come to resolutions, or had it in contemplation to petition parliament, for the abolition of the Slave Trade. Information was signified to this effect by Thomas Walker, Esquire, for Manchester; by John Hoyland, William Hoyles, Esquire, and the Reverend James Wilkinson, for Sheffield; by William Tuke, and William Burgh, Esquire, for York; by the Reverend Mr. Foster, for Colchester; by Joseph Harford and Edmund Griffith, Esquires, for Bristol; by William Bishop, Esquire, the mayor, for Maidstone; by the Reverend R. Brome and the Reverend J. Wright, for Ipswich; by James Clarke, Esquire, the mayor, for Coventry; by Mr. Jones, of Trinity College, for the University of Cambridge; by Dr. Schomberg, of Magdalen College, for the University of Oxford; by Henry Bullen, Esquire, for Bury St. Edmunds; by Archdeacon Travis, for Chester; by Mr. Hammond, for the county of Huntingdon; by John Flint, Esquire, (afterwards Corbett,) for the town of Shrewsbury and county of Salop; by the Reverend Robert Lucas, for the town and also for the county of Northampton; by Mr. Winchester, for the county of Stafford; by the Reverend William Leigh, for the county of Norfolk; by David Barclay, for the county of Hertford; and by Thomas Babington, Esquire, for the county of Leicester. CHAPTER XXII. Further progress to the middle of May.--Petitions begin to be sent to parliament.--The king orders the privy council to inquire into the Slave Trade.--Author called up to town; his interviews with Mr. Pitt, and with Mr.(afterwards Lord) Grenville.--Liverpool delegates examined first; these prejudice the council; this prejudice at length counteracted.--Labours of the committee in the interim.--Public anxious for the introduction of the question into parliament.--Message of Mr. Pitt to the committee concerning it.--Day fixed for the motion.--Substance of the debate which followed.--Discussion of the general question deferred till the next sessions. By this time the nature of the Slave Trade had, in consequence of the labours of the committee and of their several correspondents, become generally known throughout the kingdom. It had excited a general attention, and there was among the people a general feeling in behalf of the wrongs of Africa. This feeling had also, as may be collected from what has been already mentioned, broken out into language: for not only had the traffic become the general subject of conversation, but public meetings had taken place, in which it had been discussed, and of which the result was, that an application to parliament had been resolved upon in many places concerning it. By the middle of February not fewer than thirty-five petitions had been delivered to the Commons, and it was known that others were on their way to the same house. This ferment in the public mind, which had shown itself in the public prints even before the petitions had been resolved upon, had excited the attention of government. To coincide with the wishes of the people on this subject, appeared to those in authority to be a desirable thing. To abolish the trade, replete as it was with misery, was desirable also; but it was so connected with the interest of individuals, and so interwoven with the commerce and revenue of the country, that a hasty abolition of it without a previous inquiry appeared to them to be likely to be productive of as much misery as good. The king, therefore, by an order of council dated February the eleventh, 1788, directed that a committee of Privy Council should sit as a board of trade, "to take into their consideration the present state of the African Trade, particularly as far as related to the practice and manner of purchasing or obtaining slaves on the coast of Africa, and the importation and sale thereof, either in the British colonies and settlements, or in the foreign colonies and settlements in America or the West-Indies; and also as far as related to the effects and consequences of the trade both in Africa and in the said colonies and settlements, and to the general commerce of this kingdom; and that they should report to him in council the result of their inquiries, with such observations as they might have to offer thereupon." Of this order of council Mr. Wilberforce, who had attended to this great subject, as far as his health would permit, since I left him, had received notice; but he was then too ill himself to take any measures concerning it. He therefore wrote to me, and begged of me to repair to London immediately, in order to get such evidence ready as we might think it eligible to introduce when the council sat. At that time, as appears from the former chapter, I had finished the additions to my _Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species_, and I had now proceeded about half way in that of the Impolicy of it. This summons, however, I obeyed, and returned to town on the fourteenth of February, from which day to the twenty-fourth of May I shall now give the history of our proceedings. My first business in London was to hold a conversation with Mr. Pitt previously to the meeting of the council, and to try to interest him, as the first minister of state, in our favour. For this purpose Mr. Wilberforce had opened the way for me, and an interview took place. We were in free conversation together for a considerable time, during which we went through most of the branches of the subject. Mr. Pitt appeared to me to have but little knowledge of it. He had also his doubts, which he expressed openly, on many points. He was at a loss to conceive how private interest should not always restrain the master of the slave from abusing him. This matter I explained to him as well as I could; and if he was not entirely satisfied with my interpretation of it, he was at least induced to believe that cruel practices were more probable than he had imagined. A second circumstance, of the truth of which he doubted, was the mortality and usage of seamen in this trade; and a third was the statement by which so much had been made of the riches of Africa, and of the genius and abilities of her people; for he seemed at a loss to comprehend, if these things were so, how it happened that they should not have been more generally noticed before. I promised to satisfy him upon these points, and an interview was fixed for this purpose the next day. At the time appointed, I went with my books, papers, and African productions. Mr. Pitt examined the former himself. He turned over leaf after leaf, in which the copies of the muster-rolls were contained, with great patience; and when he had looked over above a hundred pages accurately, and found the name of every seaman inserted, his former abode or service, the time of his entry, and what had become of him, either by death, discharge, or desertion, he expressed his surprise at the great pains which had been taken in this branch of the inquiry; and confessed, with some emotion, that his doubts were wholly removed with respect to the destructive nature of this employ; and he said, moreover, that the facts contained in these documents, if they had been but fairly copied, could never be disproved. He was equally astonished at the various woods and other productions of Africa, but most of all at the manufactures of the natives in cotton, leather, gold, and iron, which were laid before him. These he handled and examined over and over again. Many sublime thoughts seemed to rush in upon him at once at the sight of these, some of which he expressed with observations becoming a great and a dignified mind. He thanked me for the light I had given him on many of the branches of this great question. And I went away under a certain conviction that I had left him much impressed in our favour. My next visit was to Mr. (afterwards Lord) Grenville. I called upon him at the request of Mr. Wilberforce, who had previously written to him from Bath, as he had promised to attend the meetings of the privy council during the examinations which were to take place. I found, in the course of our conversation, that Mr. Grenville had not then more knowledge of the subject than Mr. Pitt; but I found him differently circumstanced in other respects, for I perceived in him a warm feeling in behalf of the injured Africans, and that he had no doubt of the possibility of all the barbarities which had been alleged against this traffic. I showed him all my papers and some of my natural productions, which he examined. I was with him the next day, and once again afterwards, so that the subject was considered in all its parts. The effect of this interview with him was of course different from that upon the minister. In the former case I had removed doubts, and given birth to an interest in favour of our cause. But I had here only increased an interest, which had already been excited, I had only enlarged the mass of feeling, or added zeal to zeal, or confirmed resolutions and reasonings. Disposed in this manner originally himself, and strengthened by the documents with which I had furnished him, Mr. Grenville contracted an enmity to the Slave Trade, which was never afterwards diminished[A]. [Footnote A: I have not mentioned the difference between these two eminent persons, with a view of drawing any invidious comparisons, but because, as these statements are true, such persons as have a high opinion of the late Mr. Pitt's judgment, may see that this great man did not espouse the cause hastily, or merely as a matter of feeling, but upon the conviction of his own mind.] A report having gone abroad that the committee of privy council would only examine those who were interested in the continuance of the trade, I found it necessary to call upon Mr. Pitt again, and to inform him of it, when I received an assurance that every person whom I chose to send to the council in behalf of the committee should be heard. This gave rise to a conversation relative to those witnesses whom we had to produce on the side of the abolition. And here I was obliged to disclose our weakness in this respect. I owned with sorrow that, though I had obtained specimens and official documents in abundance to prove many important points, yet I had found it difficult to prevail upon persons to be publicly examined on this subject. The only persons we could then count upon, were Mr. Ramsay, Mr. H. Gandy, Mr. Falconbridge, Mr. Newton, and the Dean of Middleham. There was one, however, who would be a host of himself, if we could but gain him. I then mentioned Mr. Norris. I told Mr. Pitt the nature[A] and value of the testimony which he had given me at Liverpool, and the great zeal he had discovered to serve the cause. I doubted, however, if he would come to London for this purpose, even if I wrote to him; for he was intimate with almost all the owners of slave-vessels in Liverpool, and, living among these, he would not like to incur their resentment by taking a prominent part against them. I therefore entreated Mr. Pitt to send him a summons of council to attend, hoping that Mr. Norris would then be pleased to come up, as he would be enabled to reply to his friends that his appearance had not been voluntary. Mr. Pitt, however, informed me, that a summons from a committee of privy council, sitting as a board, was not binding upon the subject; and therefore that I had no other means left, but of writing to him, and he desired me to do this by the first post. [Footnote A: See his evidence, Chap. XVII.] This letter I accordingly wrote, and sent it to my friend William Rathbone, who was to deliver it in person, and to use his own influence at the same time; but I received for answer, that Mr. Norris was then in London. Upon this I tried to find him out, to entreat him to consent to an examination before the council. At length I found his address; but before I could see him, I was told by the Bishop of London that he had come up as a Liverpool delegate in support of the Slave Trade. Astonished at this information, I made the bishop acquainted with the case, and asked him how it became me to act; for I was fearful lest, by exposing Mr. Norris, I should violate the rights of hospitality on the one hand, and by not exposing him that I should not do my duty to the cause I had undertaken on the other. His advice was, that I should see him, and ask him to explain the reasons of his conduct. I called upon him for this purpose, but he was out. He sent me, however, a letter soon afterwards, which was full of flattery; and in which, after having paid high compliments to the general force of my arguments, and the general justice and humanity of my sentiments on this great question, which had made a deep impression upon his mind, he had found occasion to differ from me, since we had last parted, on particular points, and that he had therefore less reluctantly yielded to the call of becoming a delegate,--though notwithstanding he would gladly have declined the office if he could have done it with propriety. At length the council began their examinations. Mr. Norris, Lieutenant Matthews, of the navy, who had just left a slave employ in Africa, and Mr. James Penny, formerly a slave captain, and then interested as a merchant in the trade, (which three were the delegates from Liverpool,) took possession of the ground first. Mr. Miles, Mr. Weuves, and others, followed them on the same side. The evidence which they gave, as previously concerted between themselves, may be shortly represented thus:--They denied that kidnapping either did or could take place in Africa, or that wars were made there for the purpose of procuring slaves. Having done away these wicked practices from their system, they maintained positions which were less exceptionable, as that the natives of Africa generally became slaves in consequence of having been made prisoners in just wars, or in consequence of their various crimes. They then gave a melancholy picture of the despotism and barbarity of some of the African princes, among whom the custom of sacrificing their own subjects prevailed. But, of all others, that which was afforded by Mr. Norris on this ground was the most frightful. The King of Dahomey, he said, sported with the lives of his people in the most wanton manner. He had seen at the gates of his palace two piles of heads, like those of shot in an arsenal. Within the palace, the heads of persons, newly put to death, were strewed at the distance of a few yards in the passage, which led to his apartment. This custom of human sacrifice by the King of Dahomey was not on one occasion only, but on many; such as on the reception of messengers from neighbouring states, or of white merchants, or on days of ceremonial. But the great carnage was once a year, when the poll-tax was paid by his subjects. A thousand persons, at least, were sacrificed annually on these different occasions. The great men, too, of the country, cut off a few heads on festival-days. From all these particulars the humanity of the Slave Trade was inferred, because it took away the inhabitants of Africa into lands where no such barbarities were known. But the humanity of it was insisted upon by positive circumstances also; namely, that a great number of the slaves were prisoners of war, and that in former times all such were put to death, whereas now they were saved: so that there was a great accession of happiness to Africa since the introduction of the trade. These statements, and those of others on the same side of the question, had a great effect, as may easily be conceived, upon the feelings of those of the council who were present. Some of them began immediately to be prejudiced against us. There were others who even thought that it was almost unnecessary to proceed in the inquiry, for that the trade was actually a blessing. They had little doubt that all our assertions concerning it would be found false. The Bishop of London himself was so impressed by these unexpected accounts, that he asked me if Falconbridge, whose pamphlet had been previously sent by the committee to every member of the council, was worthy of belief, and if he would substantiate publicly what he had thus written: but these impressions unfortunately were not confined to those who had been present at the examinations. These could not help communicating them to others. Hence, in all the higher circles (some of which I sometimes used to frequent) I had the mortification to hear of nothing but the Liverpool evidence, and of our own credulity, and of the impositions which had been practised upon us: of these reports the planters and merchants did not fail to avail themselves. They boasted that they would soon do away all the idle tales which had been invented against them. They desired the public only to suspend their judgment till the privy council report should be out, when they would see the folly and wickedness of all our allegations. A little more evidence, and all would be over. On the 22nd of March, though the committee council had not then held its sittings more than a month, and these only twice or thrice a week, the following paragraph was seen in a morning paper:--"The report of the committee of privy council will be ready in a few days. After due examination it appears that the major part of the complaints against this trade are ill-founded. Some regulations, however, are expected to take place, which may serve in a certain degree to appease the cause of humanity." But while they, who were interested, had produced this outcry against us, in consequence of what had fallen from their own witnesses in the course of their examinations, they had increased it considerably by the industrious circulation of a most artful pamphlet among persons of rank and fortune at the west end of the metropolis, which was called, _Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave Trade_. This they had procured to be written by R. Harris, who was then clerk in a slave-house in Liverpool, but had been formerly a clergyman and a Jesuit. As they had maintained in the first instance, as has been already shown, the humanity of the traffic, so, by means of this pamphlet they asserted its consistency with revealed religion. That such a book should have made converts in such an age is surprising; and yet many, who ought to have known better, were carried away by it; and we had now absolutely to contend, and almost degrade ourselves by doing so, against the double argument of the humanity and the holiness of the trade. By these means, but particularly by the former, the current of opinion in particular circles ran against us for the first month, and so strong, that it was impossible for us to stem it at once; but as some of the council recovered from their panic, and their good sense became less biassed by their feelings, and they were in a state to hear reason, their prejudices began to subside. It began now to be understood among them, that almost all the witnesses were concerned in the continuance of the trade. It began to be known also, (for Mr. Pitt and the Bishop of London took care that it should be circulated,) that Mr. Norris had but a short time before furnished me at Liverpool with information, all of which he had concealed[A] from the council, but all of which made for the abolition of it. Mr. Devaynes also, a respectable member of parliament, who had been in Africa, and who had been appealed to by Mr. Norris, when examined before the privy council, in behalf of his extraordinary facts, was unable, when summoned, to confirm them to the desired extent. From this evidence the council collected, that human sacrifices were not made on the arrival of White traders, as had been asserted; that there was no poll-tax in Dahomey at all; and that Mr. Norris must have been mistaken on these points, for he must have been there at the time of the ceremony of watering the graves, when about sixty persons suffered. This latter custom moreover appeared to have been a religious superstition of the country, such as at Otaheite, or in Britain in the time of the Druids, and to have had nothing to do with the Slave Trade[B]. With respect to prisoners of war, Mr. Devaynes allowed that the old, the lame, and the wounded, were often put to death on the spot; but this was to save the trouble of bringing them away. The young and the healthy were driven off for sale; but if they were not sold when offered, they were not killed, but reserved for another market, or became house-slaves to the conquerors. Mr. Devaynes also maintained, contrary to the allegations of the others, that a great number of persons were kidnapped in order to be sold to the ships; and that the government, where this happened, was not strong enough to prevent it. But besides these drawbacks from the weight of the testimony which had been given, it began to be perceived by some of the lords of the council, that the cruel superstitions which had been described, obtained only in one or two countries in Africa, and these of insignificant extent; whereas at the time, when their minds were carried away, as it were by their feelings, they had supposed them to attach to the whole of that vast continent. They perceived also, that there were circumstances related in the evidence by the delegates themselves, by means of which, if they were true, the inhumanity of the trade might be established, and this to their own disgrace. They had all confessed that such slaves, as the White traders refused to buy, were put to death; and yet that these traders, knowing that this would be the case, had the barbarity uniformly to reject those whom it did not suit them to purchase. Mr. Matthews had rejected one of this description himself, whom he saw afterwards destroyed. Mr. Penny had known the refuse thrown down Melimba rock. Mr. Norris himself, when certain prisoners of war were offered to him for sale, declined buying them because they appeared unhealthy; and though the king then told him that he would put them to death, he could not be prevailed upon to take them but left them to their hard fate; and he had the boldness to state afterwards, that it was his belief that many of them actually suffered. [Footnote A: This was also the case with another witness, Mr. Weuves. He had given me accounts, before any stir was made about the Slave Trade, relative to it, all of which he kept back when he was examined there.] [Footnote B: Being a religion custom, it would still have gone on, though the Slave Trade had been abolished: nor could the merchants at any time have bought off a single victim.] These considerations had the effect of diminishing the prejudices of some of the council on this great question: and when this was perceived to be the case, it was the opinion of Mr. Pitt, Mr. Grenville, and the Bishop of London, that we should send three or four of our own evidences for examination, who might help to restore matters to an equilibrium. Accordingly, Mr. Falconbridge, and some others, all of whom were to speak to the African part of the subject, were introduced. These produced a certain weight in the opposite scale. But soon after these had been examined, Dr. Andrew Spaarman, professor of physic, and inspector of the museum of the royal academy at Stockholm, and his companion, C.B. Wadstrom, chief director of the assay-office there, arrived in England. These gentlemen had been lately sent to Africa by the late king of Sweden, to make discoveries in botany, mineralogy, and other departments of science. For this purpose the Swedish ambassador at Paris had procured them permission from the French government to visit the countries bordering on the Senegal, and had insured them protection there. They had been conveyed to the place of their destination, where they had remained from August 1787, to the end of January 1788; but meeting with obstacles which they had not foreseen, they had left it, and had returned to Havre de Grace, from whence they had just arrived in London, on their way home. It so happened, that by means of George Harrison, one of our committee, I fell in unexpectedly with these gentlemen. I had not long been with them, before I perceived the great treasure I had found. They gave me many beautiful specimens of African produce. They showed me their journals, which they had regularly kept from day to day. In these I had the pleasure of seeing a number of circumstances minuted down, all relating to the Slave Trade, and even drawings on the same subject. I obtained a more accurate and satisfactory knowledge of the manners and customs of the Africans from these, than from all the persons put together whom I had yet seen. I was anxious, therefore, to take them before the committee of council, to which they were pleased to consent; and as Dr. Spaarman was to leave London in a few days, I procured him an introduction first. His evidence went to show, that the natives of Africa lived in a fruitful and luxuriant country, which supplied all their wants, and that they would be a happy people, if it were not for the existence of the Slave Trade. He instanced wars which he knew to have been made by the Moors upon the Negroes, (for they were entered upon wholly at the instigation of the White traders,) for the purpose of getting slaves, and he had the pain of seeing the unhappy captives brought in on such occasions, and some of them in a wounded state. Among them, were many women and children, and the women were in great affliction. He saw also the king of Barbesin send out his parties on expeditions of a similar kind, and he saw them return with slaves. The king had been made intoxicated on purpose, by the French agents, or he would never have consented to the measure. He stated also, that in consequence of the temptations held out by slave-vessels coming upon the coast, the natives seized one another in the night, when they found opportunity; and even invited others to their houses, whom they treacherously detained, and sold at these times; so that every enormity was practised in Africa, in consequence of the existence of the trade. These specific instances made a proper impression upon the lords of the council in their turn; for Dr. Spaarman was a man of high character; he possessed the confidence of his sovereign; he had no interest whatever in giving his evidence on this subject, either on one or the other side; his means of information too had been large; he had also recorded the facts which had come before him, and he had his journal, written in the French language, to produce. The tide, therefore, which had run so strongly against us, began now to turn a little in our favour. While these examinations were going on, petitions continued to be sent to the House of Commons, from various parts of the kingdom. No less than one hundred and three were presented in this session. The city of London, though she was drawn the other way by the cries of commercial interest, made a sacrifice to humanity and justice: the two universities applauded her conduct by their own example. Large manufacturing towns, and whole counties, expressed their sentiments and wishes in a similar manner. The Established Church in separate dioceses, and the Quakers and other dissenters, as separate religious bodies, joined in one voice upon this occasion. The committee, in the interim, were not unmindful of the great work they had undertaken, and they continued to forward it in its different departments. They kept up a communication by letter with most of the worthy persons, who have been mentioned to have written to them, but particularly with Brissot and Claviere; from whom they had the satisfaction of learning, that a society had at length been established at Paris, for the abolition of the Slave Trade in France. The learned Marquis de Condorcet had become the president of it. The virtuous Duc de la Rochefoucauld and the Marquis de la Fayette had sanctioned it by enrolling their names as the two first members. Petion, who was placed afterwards among the mayors of Paris, followed. Women also were not thought unworthy of being honorary and assistant members of this humane institution; and among these were found the amiable Marchioness of la Fayette, Madame de Poivre, widow of the late intendant of the Isle of France, and Madame Necker, wife of the first minister of state. The new correspondents, who voluntarily offered their services to the committee, during the first part of the period now under consideration, were S. Whitcomb, Esq., of Gloucester; the Rev. D. Watson, of Middleton Tyas, Yorkshire; John Murlin, Esq., of High Wycomb; Charles Collins, Esq., of Swansea; Henry Tudor, Esq., of Sheffield; the Rev. John Hare, of Lincoln; Samuel Tooker, Esq., of Moorgate, near Rotherham; the Rev. G. Walker, and Francis Wakefield, Esq., of Nottingham; the Rev. Mr. Hepworth, of Burton-upon-Trent; the Rev. H. Dannett, of St. John's, Liverpool; the Rev. Dr. Oglander, of New College, Oxford; the Rev. H. Coulthurst, of Sidney College, Cambridge; R. Selfe, Esq., of Cirencester; Morris Birkbeck, of Hanford, Dorsetshire; William Jepson, of Lancaster; B. Kaye, of Leeds: John Patison, Esq., of Paisley; J.E. Dolben, Esq., of Northamptonshire; the Rev. Mr. Smith, of Wendover; John Wilkinson, Esq., of Woodford; Samuel Milford, Esq., of Exeter; Peter Lunel, Esq., treasurer of the committee at Bristol; James Pemberton, of Philadelphia; and the president of the Society at New York. The letters from new correspondents during the latter part of this period, were the following:-- One from Alexander Alison, Esq., of Edinburgh, in which he expressed it to be his duty to attempt to awaken the inhabitants of Scotland to a knowledge of the monstrous evil of the Slave Trade, and to form a committee there, to act in union with that of London, in carrying the great object of their institution into effect. Another from Elhanan Winchester, offering the committee one hundred of his sermons, which he had preached against the Slave Trade, in Fairfax county, in Virginia, so early as in the year 1774. Another from Dr. Frossard, of Lyons, in which he offered his services for the South of France, and desired different publications to be sent him, that he might be better qualified to take a part in the promotion of the cause. Another from Professor Bruns, of Helmstadt, in Germany, in which he desired to know the particulars relative to the institution of the committee, as many thousands upon the continent were then beginning to feel for the sufferings of the oppressed African race. Another from Rev. James Manning, of Exeter, in which he stated himself to be authorized by the dissenting ministers of Devon and Cornwall, to express their high approbation of the conduct of the committee, and to offer their services in the promotion of this great work of humanity and religion. Another from William Senhouse, Esq., of the island of Barbados. In this he gave the particulars of two estates, one of them his own, and the other belonging to a nobleman, upon each of which the slaves, in consequence of humane treatment, had increased by natural population only. Another effect of this humane treatment had been, that these slaves were among the most orderly and tractable in that island. From these and other instances he argued, that if the planters would, all of them, take proper care of their slaves, their humanity would be repaid in a few years, by a valuable increase in their property, and they would never want supplies from a traffic, which had been so justly condemned. Two others, the one from Travers Hartley, and the other from Alexander Jaffray, Esqrs., both of Dublin, were read. These gentlemen sent certain resolutions, which had been agreed upon by the chamber of commerce and by the guild of merchants there, relative to the abolition of the Slave Trade. They rejoiced, in the name of those whom they represented, that Ireland had been unspotted by a traffic, which they held in such deep abhorrence; and promised, if it should be abolished in England, to take the post active measures to prevent it from finding an asylum in the ports of that kingdom. The letters of William Senhouse, and of Travers Hartley, and of Alexander Jaffray, Esqrs., were ordered to be presented to the committee of privy council, and copies of them to be left there. The business of the committee having almost daily increased within this period, Dr. Baker and Bennet Langton, Esq., who were the two first to assist me in my early labours, and who have been mentioned among the forerunners and coadjutors of the cause, were elected members of it. Dr. Kippis also was added to the list. The honorary and corresponding members, elected within the same period, were the Dean of Middleham; T.W. Coke, Esq., member of parliament, of Holkham, in Norfolk; and the Rev. William Leigh, who has been before mentioned, of Little Plumstead, in the same county. The latter had published several valuable letters in the public papers, under the signature of Africanus: these had excited great notice, and done much good. The worthy author had now collected them into a publication, and had offered the profits of it to the committee. Hence this mark of their respect was conferred upon him. The committee ordered a new edition of three thousand of the Dean of Middleham's Letters to be printed. Having approved of a manuscript, written by James Field Stanfield, a mariner, containing observations upon a voyage which he had lately made to the coast of Africa for slaves, they ordered three thousand of these to be printed also. By this time, the subject having been much talked of, and many doubts and difficulties having been thrown in the way of the abolition, by persons interested in the continuance of the trade, Mr. Ramsay, who has been often so honourably mentioned, put down upon paper all the objections which were then handed about, and also those answers to each, which he was qualified, from his superior knowledge of the subject, to suggest. This he did, that the members of the legislature might see the more intricate parts of the question unravelled, and that they might not be imposed upon by the spurious arguments which were then in circulation concerning it. Observing also the poisonous effect which _The Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave Trade_ had produced upon the minds of many, he wrote an answer on scriptural grounds to that pamphlet. These works were sent to the press, and three thousand copies of each of them were ordered to be struck off. The committee, in their arrangement of the distribution of their books, ordered NEWTON'S _Thoughts_, and RAMSAY'S _Objections and Answers_, to be sent to each member of both houses of parliament. They appointed also three sub-committees for different purposes: one to draw up such facts and arguments respecting the Slave Trade, with a view of being translated into other languages, as should give foreigners a suitable knowledge of the subject; another to prepare an answer to certain false reports which had been spread relative to the object of their institution, and to procure an insertion of it in the daily papers; and a third to draw up rules for the government of the society. By the latter end of the month of March, there was an anxious expectation in the public, notwithstanding the privy council had taken up the subject, that some notice should be taken, in the lower house of parliament, of the numerous petitions which had been presented there. There was the same expectation in many of the members of it themselves. Lord Penrhyn, one of the representatives for Liverpool, and a planter also, had anticipated this notice, by moving for such papers relative to ships employed, goods exported, produce imported, and duties upon the same, as would show the vast value of the trade, which it was in contemplation to abolish. But at this time Mr. Wilberforce was ill, and unable to gratify the expectations which had been thus apparent. The committee, therefore, who partook of the anxiety of the public, knew not what to do. They saw that two-thirds of the session had already passed. They saw no hope of Mr. Wilberforce's recovery for some time. Rumours too were afloat, that other members, of whose plans they knew nothing, and who might even make emancipation their object, would introduce the business into the house. Thus situated, they waited, as patiently as they could, till the 8th of April[A], when they resolved to write to Mr. Wilberforce, to explain to him their fears and wishes, and to submit it to his consideration, whether, if he were unable himself, he would appoint some one in whom he could confide, to make some motion in parliament on the subject. [Footnote A: Brissot attended in person at this committee in his way to America, which it was then an object with him to visit.] But the public expectation became now daily more visible. The inhabitants of Manchester, many of whom had signed the petition for that place, became impatient, and they appointed Thomas Walker and Thomas Cooper, Esquires, as their delegates, to proceed to London to communicate with the committee on this subject, to assist them in their deliberations upon it, and to give their attendance while it was under discussion by the legislature. At the time of the arrival of the delegates, who were received as such by the committee, a letter came from Bath, in which it was stated that Mr. Wilberforce's health was in such a precarious state, that his physicians dared not allow him to read any letter which related to the subject of the Slave Trade. The committee were now again at a loss how to act, when they were relieved from this doubtful situation by a message from Mr. Pitt, who desired a conference with their chairman. Mr. Sharp accordingly went, and on his return made the following report: "He had a full opportunity," he said, "of explaining to Mr. Pitt that the desire of the committee went to the entire abolition of the Slave Trade. Mr. Pitt assured him that his heart was with the committee as to this object, and that he considered himself pledged to Mr. Wilberforce, that the cause should not sustain any injury from his indisposition; but at the same time observed, that the subject was of great political importance, and it was requisite to proceed in it with temper and prudence. He did not apprehend, as the examinations before the privy council would yet take up some time, that the subject could be fully investigated in the present session of parliament; but said he would consider whether the forms of the house would admit of any measures that would be obligatory on them to take it up early in the ensuing session." In about a week after this conference, Mr. Morton Pitt was deputed by the minister to write to the committee, to say that he had found precedents for such a motion as he conceived to be proper, and that he would submit it to the House of Commons in a few days. At the next meeting, which was on the 6th of May, and at which Major Cartwright and the Manchester delegates assisted, Mr. Morton Pitt attended as a member of the committee, and said that the minister had fixed his motion for the 9th. It was then resolved, that deputations should be sent to some of the leading members of parliament, to request their support of the approaching motion. I was included in one of these, and in that which was to wait upon Mr. Fox. We were received by him in a friendly manner. On putting the question to him, which related to the object of our mission, Mr. Fox paused for a little while, as if in the act of deliberation; when he assured us unequivocally, and in language which could not be misunderstood, that he would support the object of the committee to its fullest extent, being convinced that there was no remedy for the evil, but in the total abolition of the trade. At length, the 9th, or the day fixed upon, arrived, when this important subject was to be mentioned in the House of Commons for the first time[A], with a view to the public discussion of it. It is impossible for me to give, within the narrow limits of this work, all that was then said upon it; and yet as the debate which ensued was the first which took place upon it, I should feel inexcusable if I were not to take some notice of it. [Footnote A: David Hartley made a motion some years before in the same house, as has been shown in a former part of this work; but this was only to establish a proposition, That the Slave Trade was contrary to the Laws of God and the Rights of Man.] Mr. Pitt rose. He said he intended to move a resolution relative to a subject which was of more importance than any which had ever been agitated in that house. This honour he should not have had, but for a circumstance which he could not but deeply regret, the severe indisposition of his friend Mr. Wilberforce, in whose hands every measure which belonged to justice, humanity, and the national interest, was peculiarly well placed. The subject in question was no less than that of the Slave Trade. It was obvious from the great number of petitions which had been presented concerning it, how much it had engaged the public attention, and consequently how much it deserved the serious notice of that house, and how much it became their duty to take some measure concerning it. But whatever was done on such a subject, every one would agree, ought to be done with the maturest deliberation. Two opinions had prevailed without doors, as appeared from the language of the different petitions. It had been pretty generally thought that the African Slave Trade ought to be abolished. There were others, however, who thought that it only stood in need of regulations. But all had agreed that it ought not to remain as it stood at present. But that measure which it might be the most proper to take, could only be discovered by a cool, patient, and diligent examination of the subject in all its circumstances, relations, and consequences. This had induced him to form an opinion that the present was not the proper time for discussing it; for the session was now far advanced, and there was also a want of proper materials for the full information of the house. It would, he thought, be better discussed, when it might produce some useful debate, and when that inquiry which had been instituted by His Majesty's Ministers, (he meant the examination by a committee of privy council,) should be brought to such a state of maturity as to make it fit that the result of it should be laid before the house. That inquiry, he trusted, would facilitate their investigation, and enable them the better to proceed to a decision which should be equally founded on principles of humanity, justice, and sound policy. As there was not a probability of reaching so desirable an end in the present state of the business, he meant to move a resolution to pledge the house to the discussion of the question early in the next session. If by that time his honourable friend should be recovered, which he hoped would be the case, then he (Mr. Wilberforce) would take the lead in it; but should it unfortunately happen otherwise, then he (the Chancellor of the Exchequer) pledged himself to bring forward some proposition concerning it. The house, however, would observe, that he had studiously avoided giving any opinion of his own on this great subject. He thought it wiser to defer this till the time of the discussion should arrive. He concluded with moving, after having read the names of the places from whence the different petitions had come, "That this house will, early in the next session of parliament, proceed to take into consideration the circumstances of the Slave Trade complained of in the said petitions, and what may be fit to be done thereupon." Mr. Fox began by observing, that he had long taken an interest in this great subject, which he had also minutely examined, and that it was his intention to have brought something forward himself in parliament respecting it; but when he heard that Mr. Wilberforce had resolved to take it up, he was unaffectedly rejoiced, not only knowing the purity of his principles and character, but because, from a variety of considerations as to the situations in which different men stood in the house, there was something that made him honestly think it was better that the business should be in the hands of that gentleman than in his own. Having premised this, he said that, as so many petitions, and these signed by such numbers of persons of the most respectable character, had been presented, he was sorry that it had been found impossible that the subject of them could be taken up this year, and more particularly as he was not able to see, as the Chancellor of the Exchequer had done, that there were circumstances, which might happen by the next year, which would make it more advisable and advantageous to take it up then, than it would have been to enter upon it in the present session. For certainly there could be no information laid before the house, through the medium of the lords of the council, which could not more advantageously have been obtained by themselves, had they instituted a similar inquiry. It was their duty to advise the king, and not to ask his advice. This the constitution had laid down as one of its most essential principles; and though in the present instance he saw no cause for blame, because he was persuaded His Majesty's Ministers had not acted with any ill intention, it was still a principle never to be departed from, because it never could be departed from without establishing a precedent which might lead to very serious abuses. He lamented that the privy council, who had received no petitions from the people on the subject, should have instituted an inquiry, and that the House of Commons, the table of which had been loaded with petitions from various parts of the kingdom, should not have instituted any inquiry at all. He hoped these petitions would have a fair discussion in that house, independently of any information that could be given to it by His Majesty's Ministers. He urged again the superior advantage of an inquiry into such a subject carried on within those walls over any inquiry carried on by the lords of the council. In inquiries carried on in that house, they had the benefit of every circumstance of publicity; which was a most material benefit indeed, and that which of all others made the manner of conducting the parliamentary proceedings of Great Britain the envy and the admiration of the world. An inquiry there was better than an inquiry in any other place, however respectable the persons before and by whom it was carried on. There, all that could be said for the abolition or against it might be said. In that house every relative fact would have been produced, no information would have been withheld, no circumstance would have been omitted, which was necessary for elucidation; nothing would have been kept back. He was sorry, therefore, that the consideration of the question, but more particularly where so much human suffering was concerned, should be put off to another session, when it was obvious that no advantage could be gained by the delay. He then adverted to the secrecy which the Chancellor of the Exchequer had observed relative to his own opinion on this important subject. Why did he refuse to give it? Had Mr. Wilberforce been present, the house would have had a great advantage in this respect, because doubtless he would have stated in what view he saw the subject, and in a general way described the nature of the project he meant to propose. But now they were kept in the dark as to the nature of any plan, till the next session. The Chancellor of the Exchequer had indeed said, that it had been a very general opinion that the African Slave Trade should be abolished. He had said again, that others had not gone so far, but had given it as their opinion, that it required to be revised and regulated. But why did he not give his own sentiments boldly to the world on this great question? As for himself, he (Mr. Fox) had no scruple to declare at the outset, that the Slave Trade ought not to be regulated, but destroyed. To this opinion his mind was made up; and he was persuaded that, the more the subject was considered, the more his opinion would gain ground; and it would be admitted, that to consider it in any other manner, or on any other principles than those of humanity and justice, would be idle and absurd. If there were any such men, and he did not know but that there were those, who, led away by local and interested considerations, thought the Slave Trade might still continue under certain modifications, these were the dupes of error, and mistook what they thought their interest, for what he would undertake to convince them was their loss. Let such men only hear the case further, and they would find the result to be, that a cold-hearted policy was folly when it opposed the great principles of humanity and justice. He concluded by saying that he would not oppose the resolution, if other members thought it best to postpone the consideration of the subject; but he should have been better pleased if it had been discussed sooner; and he certainly reserved to himself the right of voting for any question upon it that should be brought forward by any other member in the course of the present session. The Chancellor of the Exchequer said, that nothing he had heard had satisfied him of the propriety of departing from the rule he had laid down for himself, of not offering, but of studiously avoiding to offer, any opinion upon the subject till the time should arrive when it could be fully argued. He thought that no discussion which could take place that session, could lead to any useful measure, and therefore, he had wished not to argue it till the whole of it could be argued. A day would come, when every member would have an opportunity of stating his opinion; and he wished it might be discussed with a proper spirit on all sides, on fair and liberal principles, and without any shackles from local and interested considerations. With regard to the inquiries instituted before the committee of privy council, he was sure, as soon as it became obvious that the subject must undergo a discussion, it was the duty of His Majesty's Ministers to set those inquiries on foot, which should best enable them to judge in what manner they could meet or offer any proposition respecting the Slave Trade. And although such previous examinations by no means went to deprive that house of its undoubted right to institute those inquiries; or to preclude them, they would be found greatly to facilitate them. But, exclusive of this consideration, it would have been utterly impossible to have come to any discussion of the subject, that could have been brought to a conclusion in the course of the present session. Did the inquiry then before the privy council prove a loss of time? So far from it, that, upon the whole, time had been gained by it. He had moved the resolution, therefore, to pledge the house to bring on the discussion early in the next session, when they would have a full opportunity of considering every part of the subject: first, whether the whole of the trade ought to be abolished; and, if so, how and when. If it should be thought that the trade should only be put under certain regulations, what those regulations ought to be, and when they should take place. These were questions which must be considered; and therefore he had made his resolution as wide as possible, that there might be room for all necessary considerations to be taken in. He repeated his declaration, that he would reserve his sentiments till the day of discussion should arrive; and again declared, that he earnestly wished to avoid an anticipation of the debate upon the subject. But if such debate was likely to take place, he would withdraw his motion, and offer it another day. A few words then passed between Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox in reply to each other; after which Lord Penrhyn rose. He said there were two classes of men, the African merchants, and the planters, both of whose characters had been grossly calumniated. These wished that an inquiry might be instituted, and this immediately, conscious that the more their conduct was examined the less they would be found to merit the opprobrium with which they had been loaded. The charges against the Slave Trade were either true or false. If they were true, it ought to be abolished; but if upon inquiry they were found to be without foundation, justice ought to be done to the reputation of those who were concerned in it. He then said a few words, by which he signified, that, after all, it might not be an improper measure to make regulations in the trade. Mr. Burke said, the noble lord, who was a man of honour himself, had reasoned from his own conduct, and, being conscious of his own integrity, was naturally led to imagine that other men were equally just and honourable. Undoubtedly the merchants and planters had a right to call for an investigation of their conduct, and their doing so did them great credit. The Slave Trade also ought equally to be inquired into. Neither did he deny that it was right his Majesty's ministers should inquire into its merits for themselves. They had done their duty; but that House, who had the petitions of the people on their table, neglected it, by having so long deferred an inquiry of their own. If that House wished to preserve their functions, their understandings, their honour, and their dignity, he advised them to beware of committees of privy council. If they suffered their business to be done by such means, they were abdicating their trust and character, and making way for an entire abolition of their functions, which they were parting with one after another, Thus:-- Star after star goes out, and all is night. If they neglected the petitions of their constituents, they must fall, and the privy-counsel be instituted in their stead. What would be the consequence? His Majesty's Ministers, instead of consulting them, and giving them the opportunity of exercising their functions of deliberation and legislation, would modify the measures of government elsewhere, and bring down the edicts of the privy council to them to register. Mr. Burke said, he was one of those who wished for the abolition of the Slave Trade. He thought it ought to be abolished, on principles of humanity and justice. If, however, opposition of interests should render its total abolition impossible, it ought to be regulated, and that immediately. They need not send to the West Indies to know the opinions of the planters on the subject. They were to consider first of all, and abstractedly from all political, personal, and local considerations, that the Slave Trade was directly contrary to the principles of humanity and justice, and to the spirit of the British constitution; and that the state of slavery, which followed it, however mitigated, was a state so improper, so degrading, and so ruinous to the feelings and capacities of human nature, that it ought not to be suffered to exist. He deprecated delay in this business, as well for the sake of planters as of the slaves. Mr. Gascoyne, the other member for Liverpool, said he had no objection that the discussion should stand over to the next session of parliament, provided it could not come on in the present, because he was persuaded it would ultimately be found that his constituents, who were more immediately concerned in the trade, and who had been so shamefully calumniated, were men of respectable character. He hoped the privy council would print their Report when they had brought their inquiries to a conclusion, and that they would lay it before the House and the public, in order to enable all concerned to form a judgment of what was proper to be done relative to the subject next session. With respect, however, to the total abolition of the Slave Trade, he must confess that such a measure was both unnecessary, visionary, and impracticable; but he wished some alterations or modifications to be adopted. He hoped that, when the House came to go into the general question, they would not forget the trade, commerce, and navigation of the country. Mr. Rolle said, he had received instruction from his constituents to inquire if the grievances, which had been alleged to result from the Slave Trade, were well founded; and, if it appear that they were, to assist in applying a remedy. He was glad the discussion had been put off till next session, as it would give all of them an opportunity of considering the subject with more mature deliberation. Mr. Martin desired to say a few words only. He put the case, that, supposing the slaves were treated ever so humanely, when they were carried to the West Indies, what compensation could be made them for being torn from their nearest relations, and from everything that was dear to them in life? He hoped no political advantage, no national expediency, would be allowed to weigh in the scale against the eternal rules of moral rectitude. As for himself, he had no hesitation to declare, in this early stage of the business, that he should think himself a wicked wretch if he did not do everything in his power to put a stop to the Slave Trade. Sir William Dolben said, that he did not then wish to enter into the discussion of the general question of the abolition of the Slave Trade, which the Chancellor of the Exchequer was so desirous of postponing; but he wished to say a few words on what he conceived to be a most crying evil, and which might be immediately remedied, without infringing upon the limits of that question. He did not allude to the sufferings of the poor Africans in their own country, nor afterwards in the West India islands, but to that intermediate state of tenfold misery which they underwent in their transportation. When put on board the ships, the poor unhappy wretches were chained to each other, hand and foot, and stowed so close, that they were not allowed above a foot and a half for each individual in breadth. Thus crammed together like herrings in a barrel, they contracted putrid and fatal disorders; so that they who came to inspect them in a morning had occasionally to pick dead slaves out of their rows, and to unchain their carcasses from the bodies of their wretched fellow-sufferers, to whom they had been fastened. Nor was it merely to the slaves that the baneful effects of the contagion thus created were confined. This contagion affected the ships' crews, and numbers of the seamen employed in the horrid traffic perished. This evil, he said, called aloud for a remedy, and that remedy ought to be applied soon; otherwise no less than ten thousand lives might be lost between this and next session. He wished therefore this grievance to be taken into consideration, independently of the general question; and that some regulations, such as restraining the captains from taking above a certain number of slaves on board, according to the size of their vessels, and obliging them to let in fresh air, and provide better accommodation for the slaves during their passage, should be adopted. Mr. Young wished the consideration of the whole subject to stand over to the next session. Sir James Johnstone, though a planter, professed himself a friend to the abolition of the Slave Trade. He said it was highly necessary that the House should do something respecting it; but whatever was to be done should be done soon, as delay might be productive of bad consequences in the islands. Mr. L. Smith stood up a zealous advocate for the abolition of the Slave Trade. He said that even Lord Penrhyn and Mr. Gascoyne, the members for Liverpool, had admitted the evil of it to a certain extent; for regulations or modifications, in which they seemed to acquiesce, were unnecessary where abuses did not really exist. Mr. Grigby thought it his duty to declare, that no privy council report, or other mode of examination, could influence him. A traffic in the persons of men was so odious, that it ought everywhere, as soon as ever it was discovered, to be abolished. Mr. Bastard was anxious that the House should proceed to the discussion of the subject in the present session. The whole country, he said, had petitioned; and was it any satisfaction to the country to be told, that the committee of privy council were inquiring? Who knew anything of what was doing by the committee of privy council, or what progress they were making? The inquiry ought to have been instituted in that House, and in the face of the public, that everybody concerned might know what was going on. The numerous petitions of the people ought immediately to be attended to. He reprobated delay on this occasion; and as the honourable baronet, Sir William Dolben, had stated facts which were shocking to humanity, he hoped he would move that a committee might be appointed to inquire into their existence, that a remedy might be applied, if possible, before the sailing of the next ships for Africa. Mr. Whitbread professed himself a strenuous advocate for the total and immediate abolition of the Slave Trade. It was contrary to nature, and to every principle of justice, humanity, and religion. Mr. Pelham stated, that he had very maturely considered the subject of the Slave Trade; and had he not known that the business was in the hands of an honourable member, (whose absence from the house, and the cause of it, no man lamented more sincerely than he did,) he should have ventured to propose something concerning it himself. If it should be thought that the trade ought not to be entirely done away, the sooner it was regulated the better. He had a plan for this purpose, which appeared to him to be likely to produce some salutary effects. He wished to know if any such thing would be permitted to be proposed in the course of the present session. The Chancellor of the Exchequer said he should be happy, if he thought the circumstances of the house were such as to enable them to proceed to an immediate discussion of the question; but as that did not appear, from the reasons he had before stated, to be the case, he could only assure the honourable gentleman, that the same motives which had induced him to propose an inquiry into the subject early in the next session of parliament, would make him desirous of receiving any other light which could be thrown upon it. The question having been then put, the resolution was agreed to unanimously. Thus ended the first debate that ever took place in the Commons, on this important subject. This debate, though many of the persons concerned in it abstained cautiously from entering into the merits of the general question, became interesting, in consequence of circumstances attending it. Several rose up at once to give relief, as it were, to their feelings by utterance; but by so doing they were prevented, many of them, from being heard. They who were heard, spoke with peculiar energy, as if warmed in an extraordinary manner by the subject. There was an apparent enthusiasm in behalf of the injured Africans. It was supposed by some, that there was a moment, in which, if the Chancellor of the Exchequer had moved for an immediate abolition of the trade, he would have carried it that night; and both he and others, who professed an attachment to the cause, were censured for not having taken a due advantage of the disposition which was so apparent. But independently of the inconsistency of doing this on the part of the ministry, while the privy council were in the midst of their inquiries, and of the improbability that the other branches of the legislature would have concurred in so hasty a measure; what good would have accrued to the cause, if the abolition had been then carried? Those concerned in the cruel system would never have rested quietly under the stigma under which they then laboured. They would have urged, that they had been condemned unheard. The merchants would have said, that they had had no notice of such an event, that they might prepare, a way for their vessels in other trades. The planters would have said, that they had had no time allowed them to provide such supplies from Africa as might enable them to keep up their respective stocks. They would, both of them, have called aloud for immediate indemnification. They would have decried the policy of the measure of the abolition; and where had it been proved? They would have demanded a reverse of it; and might they not in cooler moments have succeeded? Whereas, by entering into a patient discussion of the merits of the question; by bringing evidence upon it; by reasoning upon that evidence night after night, and year after year, and thus by disputing the ground inch as it were by inch, the abolition of the Slave Trade stands upon a rock, upon which it never can be shaken. Many of those who were concerned in the cruel system have now given up their prejudices, because they became convinced in the contest. A stigma too has been fixed upon it, which can never be erased: and in a large record, in which the cruelty and injustice of it have been recognised in indelible characters, its impolicy also has been eternally enrolled. CHAPTER XXIII. Continuation to the middle of July.--Anxiety of Sir William Dolben to lessen the horrors of the Middle Passage till the great question should be discussed; brings in a bill for that purpose; debate upon it.--Evidence examined against it; its inconsistency and falsehoods.--Further debate upon it.--Bill passed, and carried to the Lords; vexatious delays and opposition there; carried backwards and forwards to both houses.--At length finally passed.--Proceedings of the committee in the interim; effects of them. It was supposed, after the debate, of which the substance has been just given, that there would have been no further discussion of the subject till the next year; but Sir William Dolben became more and more affected by those considerations which he had offered to the house on the ninth of May. The trade, he found, was still to go on. The horrors of the transportation, or Middle Passage, as it was called, which he conceived to be the worst in the long catalogue of evils belonging to the system, would of course accompany it. The partial discussion of these, he believed, would be no infringement of the late resolution of the house. He was desirous, therefore, of doing something in the course of the present session, by which the miseries of the trade might be diminished as much as possible, while it lasted, or till the legislature could take up the whole of the question. This desire he mentioned to several of his friends; and as these approved of his design, he made it known on the twenty-first of May in the House of Commons. He began by observing, that he would take up but little of their time. He rose to move for leave to bring in a bill for the relief of those unhappy persons, the natives of Africa, from the hardships to which they were usually exposed in their passage from the coast of Africa to the colonies. He did not mean, by any regulations he might introduce for this purpose, to countenance or sanction the Slave Trade, which, however modified, would be always wicked and unjustifiable. Nor did he mean, by introducing these, to go into the general question which the house had prohibited. The bill which he had in contemplation, went only to limit the number of persons to be put on board to the tonnage of the vessel which was to carry them, in order to prevent them from being crowded too closely together; to secure to them good and sufficient provisions; and to take cognizance of other matters, which related to their health and accommodation; and this only till parliament could enter into the general merits of the question. This humane interference he thought no member would object to. Indeed, those for Liverpool had both of them admitted, on the ninth of May, that regulations were desirable; and he had since conversed with them, and was happy to learn that they would not oppose him on this occasion. Mr. Whitbread highly approved of the object of the worthy baronet, which was to diminish the sufferings of an unoffending people. Whatever could be done to relieve them in their hard situation, till parliament could take up the whole of their case, ought to be done by men living in a civilized country, and professing the Christian religion: he therefore begged leave to second the motion which had been made. General Norton was sorry that he had not risen up sooner. He wished to have seconded this humane motion himself. It had his most cordial approbation. Mr. Burgess complimented the worthy baronet on the honour he had done himself on this occasion, and congratulated the house on the good, which they were likely to do by acceding, as he was sure they would, to his proposition. Mr. Joliffe rose, and said that the motion in question should have his strenuous support. Mr. Gascoyne stated, that having understood from the honourable baronet that he meant only to remedy the evils, which were stated to exist in transporting the inhabitants of Africa to the West Indies, he had told them that he would not object to the introduction of such a bill. Should it however interfere with the general question, the discussion of which had been prohibited, he would then oppose it. He must also reserve another case for his opposition; and this would be, if the evils of which it took cognizance should appear not to have been well founded. He had written to his constituents to be made acquainted with this circumstance, and he must be guided by them on the subject. Mr. Martin was surprised how any person could give an opposition to such a bill. Whatever were the merits of the great question, all would allow, that if human beings were to be transported across the ocean, they should be carried over with as little suffering as possible to themselves. Mr. Hamilton deprecated the subdivision of this great and important question, which the house had reserved for another session. Every endeavour to meddle with one part of it, before the whole of it could be taken into consideration, looked rather as if it came from an enemy than from a friend. He was fearful that such a bill as this would sanction a traffic, which should never be viewed but in a hostile light, or as repugnant to the feelings of our nature, and to the voice of our religion. Lord Frederic Campbell was convinced that the postponing of all consideration of the subject till the next session was a wise measure. He was sure that neither the house nor the public were in a temper sufficiently cool to discuss it properly. There was a general warmth of feeling, or an enthusiasm about it, which ran away with the understandings of men, and disqualified them from judging soberly concerning it. He wished, therefore, that the present motion might be deferred. Mr. William Smith said, that if the motion of the honourable Baronet had trespassed upon the great question reserved for consideration, he would have opposed it himself; but he conceived the subject which it comprehended might with propriety be separately considered; and if it were likely that a hundred, but much more a thousand, lives would be saved by this bill, it was the duty of that house to adopt it without delay. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, though he meant still to conceal his opinion as to the general merits of the question, could not be silent, here. He was of opinion that he could very consistently give this motion his support. There was a possibility (and a bare possibility was a sufficient ground with him) that in consequence of the resolution lately come to by the house, and the temper then manifested in it, those persons who were concerned in the Slave Trade might put the natives of Africa in a worse situation, during their transportation to the colonies, even than they were in before, by cramming additional numbers on board their vessels, in order to convey as many as possible to the West Indies before parliament ultimately decided on the subject. The possibility, therefore, that such a consequence might grow out of their late resolution during the intervening months between the end of the present and the commencement of the next session, was a good and sufficient parliamentary ground for them to provide immediate means to prevent the existence of such an evil. He considered this as an act of indispensable duty, and on that ground the bill should have his support. Soon after this the question was put, and leave was given for the introduction of the bill. An account of these proceedings of the house having been sent to the merchants of Liverpool, they held a meeting, and came to resolutions on the subject. They determined to oppose the bill in every stage in which it should be brought forward, and, what was extraordinary, even the principle of it. Accordingly, between the 21st of May and the 2nd of June, on which latter day the bill having been previously read a second time was to be committed, petitions from interested persons had been brought against it, and consent had been obtained, that both council and evidence should be heard. The order of the day having been read on the 2nd of June for the house to resolve itself into a committee of the whole house, a discussion took place relative to the manner in which the business was to be conducted. This being over, the counsel began their observations; and, as soon as they had finished, evidence was called to the bar in behalf of the petitions which had been delivered. From the 2nd of June to the 17th the house continued to hear the evidence at intervals, but the members for Liverpool took every opportunity of occasioning delay. They had recourse twice to counting out the house; and at another time, though complaint had been made of their attempts to procrastinate, they opposed the resuming of their own evidence with the same view; and this merely for the frivolous reason, that, though there was then a suitable opportunity, notice had not been previously given. But in this proceeding, other members feeling indignant at their conduct, they were overruled. The witnesses brought by the Liverpool merchants against this humane bill were the same as they had before sent for examination to the privy council, namely, Mr. Norris, Lieutenant Matthews, and others. On the other side of the question it was not deemed expedient to bring any. It was soon perceived that it would be possible to refute the former out of their own mouths, and to do this seemed more eligible than to proceed in the other way. Mr. Pitt, however, took care to send Captain Parrey, of the Royal Navy, to Liverpool, that he might take the tonnage and internal dimensions of several slave-vessels, which were then there, supposing that these, when known, would enable the house to detect any misrepresentations, which the delegates from that town might be disposed to make upon this subject. It was the object of the witnesses, when examined, to prove two things: first, that regulations were unnecessary, because the present mode of the transportation was sufficiently convenient for the objects of it, and was well adapted to preserve their comfort and their health. They had sufficient room, sufficient air, and sufficient provisions. When upon deck, they made merry and amused themselves with dancing. As to the mortality, or the loss of them by death in the course of their passage, it was trifling. In short, the voyage from Africa to the West Indies "was one of the happiest periods of a Negro's life." Secondly, that if the merchants were hindered from taking less that two full sized, or three smaller Africans, to a ton, then the restrictions would operate not as the regulation, but as the utter ruin of the trade. Hence the present bill, under the specious mask of a temporary interference, sought nothing less than its abolition. These assertions having been severally made, by the former of which it was insinuated that the African, unhappy in his own country, found in the middle passage, under the care of the merchants, little less than an Elysian retreat, it was now proper to institute a severe inquiry into the truth of them. Mr. Pitt, Sir Charles Middleton, Mr. William Smith, and Mr. Beaufoy, took a conspicuous part on this occasion, but particularly the two latter, to whom much praise was due for the constant attention they bestowed upon this subject. Question after question was put by these to the witnesses; and from their own mouths they dragged out, by means of a cross-examination as severe as could be well instituted, the following melancholy account:-- Every slave, whatever his size might be, was found to have only five feet and six inches in length, and sixteen inches in breadth, to lie in. The floor was covered with bodies stowed or packed according to this allowance: but between the floor and the deck or ceiling were often platforms or broad shelves in the mid-way, which were covered with bodies also. The height from the floor to the ceiling, within which space the bodies on the floor and those on the platforms lay, seldom exceeded five feet eight inches, and in some cases it did not exceed four feet. The men were chained two and two together by their hands and feet, and were chained also by means of ring-bolts, which were fastened to the deck. They were confined in this manner at least all the time they remained upon the coast, which was from six weeks to six months as it might happen. Their allowance consisted of one pint of water a day to each person, and they were fed twice a day with yams and horsebeans. After meals they jumped up in their irons for exercise. This was so necessary for their health, that they were whipped if they refused to do it; and this jumping had been termed dancing. They were usually fifteen and sixteen hours below deck out of the twenty-four. In rainy weather they could not be brought up for two or three days together. If the ship was full, their situation was then distressing. They sometimes drew their breath with anxious and laborious efforts, and some died of suffocation. With respect to their health in these voyages, the mortality, where the African constitution was the strongest, or on the windward coast, was only about five in a hundred. In thirty-five voyages, an account of which was produced, about six in a hundred was the average number lost. But this loss was still greater at Calabar and Bonny, which were the greatest markets for slaves. This loss, too, did not include those who died, either while the vessels were lying upon the Coast, or after their arrival in the West Indies, of the disorders which they had contracted upon the voyage. Three and four in a hundred had been known to die in this latter case. But besides these facts, which were forced out of the witnesses by means of the cross-examination which took place, they were detected in various falsehoods. They had asserted that the ships in this trade were peculiarly constructed, or differently from others, in order that they might carry a great number of persons with convenience; whereas Captain Parrey asserted, that out of the twenty-six, which he had seen, ten only had been built expressly for this employ. They had stated the average height between decks at about five feet and four inches. But Captain Parrey showed, that out of the nine he measured, the height in four of the smallest was only four feet eight inches, and the average height in all of them was but five feet two. They had asserted that vessels under two hundred tons had no platforms. But by his account the four just mentioned were of this tonnage, and yet all of them had platforms either wholly or in part. On other points they were found both to contradict themselves and one another. They had asserted, as before mentioned, that if they were restricted to less than two full-grown slaves to a ton, the trade would be ruined. But in examining into the particulars of nineteen vessels, which they produced themselves, five of them only had cargoes equal to the proportion which they stated to be necessary to the existence of the trade. The other fourteen carried a less number of slaves (and they might have taken more on board if they had pleased); so that the average number in the nineteen was but one man and four-fifths to a ton, or ten in a hundred below their lowest standard[A]. One again said, that no inconvenience arose in consequence of the narrow space allowed to each individual in these voyages. Another said, that smaller vessels were more healthy than larger, because, among other reasons, they had a less proportion of slaves as to number on board. [Footnote A: The falsehood of their statements in this respect was proved again afterwards by facts. For, after the regulation had taken place, they lost fewer slaves and made greater profits.] They were found also guilty of a wilful concealment of such facts, as they knew, if communicated, would have invalidated their own testimony. I was instrumental in detecting them on one of these occasions myself. When Mr. Dalzell was examined, he was not wholly unknown to me; my Liverpool muster-rolls told me that he had lost fifteen seamen out of forty in his last voyage. This was a sufficient ground to go upon; for generally, where the mortality of the seamen has been great, it may be laid down that the mortality of the slaves has been considerable also. I waited patiently till his evidence was nearly closed, but he had then made no unfavourable statements to the house. I desired, therefore, that a question might be put to him, and in such a manner, that he might know that they, who put it, had got a clue to his secrets. He became immediately embarrassed; his voice faltered; he confessed with trembling that he had lost a third of his sailors in his last voyage. Pressed hard immediately by other questions, he then acknowledged that he had lost one hundred and twenty, or a third of his slaves, also. But would he say that these were all he had lost in that voyage? No; twelve others had perished by an accident, for they were drowned. But were no others lost beside the one hundred and twenty and the twelve? None, he said, upon the voyage, but between twenty and thirty before he left the Coast. Thus this champion of the merchants, this advocate for the health and happiness of slaves in the middle passage, lost nearly a hundred and sixty of the unhappy persons committed to his superior care, in a single voyage! The evidence, on which I have now commented, having been delivered, the counsel summed up on the 17th of June, when the committee proceeded to fill up the blanks in the bill. Mr. Pitt moved that the operation of it be retrospective, and that it commence from the 10th instant. This was violently opposed by Lord Penrhyn, Mr. Gascoyne, and Mr. Brickdale, but was at length acceded to. Sir William Dolben then proposed to apportion five men to every three tons in every ship under one hundred and fifty tons burden, which had the space of five feet between the decks, and three men to two tons in every vessel beyond one hundred and fifty tons burden, which had equal accommodation in point of height between the decks. This occasioned a very warm dispute, which was not settled for some time, and which gave rise to some beautiful and interesting speeches on the subject. Mr. William Smith pointed out in the clearest manner many of the contradictions, which I have just stated in commenting upon the evidence; indeed he had been a principal means of detecting them. He proved how little worthy of belief the witnesses had shown themselves, and how necessary they had made the present bill by their own confession. The worthy baronet, indeed, had been too indulgent to the merchants, in the proportion he had fixed of the number of persons to be carried to the tonnage of their vessels. He then took a feeling view of what would be the wretched state of the poor Africans on board, even if the bill passed as it now stood; and conjured the house, if they would not allow them more room, at least not to infringe upon that which had been proposed. Lord Belgrave (afterwards Grosvenor) animadverted with great ability upon the cruelties of the trade, which he said had been fully proved at the bar. He took notice of the extraordinary opposition which had been made to the bill then before them, and which he believed every gentleman, who had a proper feeling of humanity, would condemn. If the present mode of carrying on the trade received the countenance of that house, the poor unfortunate African would have occasion doubly to curse his fate. He would not only curse the womb that brought him forth, but the British nation also, whose diabolical avarice had made his cup of misery still more bitter. He hoped that the members for Liverpool would urge no further opposition to the bill, but that they would join with the house in an effort to enlarge the empire of humanity; and that, while they were stretching out the strong arm of justice to punish the degraders of British honour and humanity in the East, they would with equal spirit exert their powers to dispense the blessings of their protection to those unhappy Africans, who were to serve them in the West. Mr. Beaufoy entered minutely into an examination of the information, which had been given by the witnesses, and which afforded unanswerable arguments for the passing of the bill. He showed the narrow space which they themselves had been made to allow for the package of a human body, and the ingenious measures they were obliged to resort to for stowing this living cargo within the limits of the ship. He adverted next to the case of Mr. Dalzell, and showed how one dismal fact after another, each making against their own testimony, was extorted from him. He then went to the trifling mortality said to be experienced in these voyages, upon which subject he spoke in the following words: "Though the witnesses are some of them interested in the trade, and all of them parties against the bill, their confession is, that of the negroes of the windward coast, who are men of the strongest constitution which Africa affords, no less on an average than five in each hundred perish in the voyage,--a voyage, it must be remembered but of six weeks. In a twelvemonth, then, what must be the proportion of the dead? No less than forty-three in a hundred, which is seventeen times the usual rate of mortality; for all the estimates of life suppose no more than a fortieth of the people, or two and a half in the hundred, to die within the space of a year. Such then is the comparison. In the ordinary course of nature the number of persons, (including those in age and infancy, the weakest periods of existence,) who perish in the space of a twelvemonth, is at the rate of but two and a half in a hundred; but in an African voyage, notwithstanding the old are excluded and few infants admitted, so that those who are shipped are in the firmest period of life, the list of deaths, presents an annual mortality of forty-three in a hundred. It presents this mortality even in vessels from the windward coast of Africa; but in those which sail to Bonny, Benin, and the Calabars, from whence the greatest proportion of the slaves are brought, this mortality is increased by a variety of causes, (of which the greater length of the voyage is one,) and is said to be twice as large which supposes that in every hundred the deaths annually amount to no less than eighty-six. Yet even the former comparatively low mortality; of which the counsel speaks with so much satisfaction, as a proof of the kind and compassionate treatment of the slaves, even this indolent and lethargic destruction gives to the march of death seventeen times its usual speed. It is a destruction, which, if general but for ten years, would depopulate the world, blast the purposes of its creation, and extinguish the human race." After having gone with great ability through the other branches of the subject, he concluded in the following manner:--"Thus I have considered the various objections which have been stated to the bill, and am ashamed to reflect that it could be necessary to speak so long in defence of such a cause; for what, after all, is asked by the proposed regulations? On the part of the Africans, the whole of their purport is, that they whom you allow to be robbed of all things but life, may not unnecessarily and wantonly be deprived of life also. To the honour; to the wisdom, to the feelings of the house, I now make my appeal, perfectly confident that you will not tolerate, as senators, a traffic which, as men, you shudder to contemplate, and that you will not take upon yourselves the responsibility of this waste of existence. To the memory of former parliaments the horrors of this traffic will be an eternal reproach; yet former parliaments have not known, as you on the clearest evidence now know, the dreadful nature of this trade. Should you reject this bill, no exertions of yours to rescue from oppression the suffering inhabitants of your eastern empire; no records of the prosperous state to which, after a long and unsuccessful war, you have restored your native land; no proofs; however splendid, that under your guidance Great Britain has recovered her rank, and is again the arbitress of nations, will save your names from the stigma of everlasting dishonour. The broad mantle of this one infamy will cover with substantial blackness the radiance of your glory, and change to feelings of abhorrence the present admiration of the world. But pardon the supposition of so impossible an event. I believe that justice and mercy may be considered as the attributes of your character, and that you will not tarnish their lustre on this occasion." The Chancellor of the Exchequer rose next; and after having made some important observations on the evidence (which took up much time), he declared himself most unequivocally in favour of the motion made by the honourable baronet. He was convinced that the regulation proposed would not tend to the abolition of the trade; but if it even went so far, he had no hesitation openly and boldly to declare, that if it could not be carried on in a manner different from that stated by the members for Liverpool, he would retract what he had said on a former day against going into the general question; and, waving every other discussion than what had that day taken place, he would give his vote for the utter annihilation of it at once. It was a trade, which it was shocking to humanity to hear detailed. If it were to be carried, on as proposed by the petitioners, it would, besides its own intrinsic baseness, be contrary to every humane and Christian principle, and to every sentiment that ought to inspire the breast of man; and would reflect the greatest dishonour on the British senate and the British nation. He, therefore, hoped that the house, being now in possession of such information as never hitherto had been brought before them, would in some measure endeavour to extricate themselves from that guilt, and from that remorse, which every one of them ought to feel for having suffered such monstrous cruelties to be practised upon an helpless and unoffending part of the human race. Mr. Martin complimented Mr. Pitt in terms of the warmest panegyric on his noble sentiments, declaring that they reflected the greatest honour upon him both as an Englishman and as a man. Soon after this the house divided upon the motion of Sir William Dolben. Fifty-six appeared to be in favour of it, and only five against it. The latter consisted of the two members for Liverpool and three other interested persons. This was the first division which ever took place on this important subject. The other blanks were then filled up, and the bill was passed without further delay. The next day, or on the 18th of June, it was carried up to the House of Lords. The slave-merchants of London, Liverpool, and Bristol, immediately presented petitions against it, as they had done in the lower house. They prayed that counsel might open their case; and though they had been driven from the Commons on account of their evidence, with disgrace, they had the effrontery to ask that they might call witnesses here also. Counsel and evidence having been respectively heard, the bill was ordered to be committed the next day. The Lords attended according to summons. But on a motion by Dr. Warren, the Bishop of Bangor, who stated that the Lord Chancellor Thurlow was much indisposed, and that he wished to be present when the question was discussed, the committee was postponed. It was generally thought that the reason for this postponement, and particularly as it was recommended by a prelate, was that the Chancellor might have an opportunity of forwarding this humane bill. But it was found to be quite otherwise. It appeared that the motive was, that he might give to it, by his official appearance as the chief servant of the crown in that house, all the opposition in his power. For when the day arrived which had been appointed for the discussion, and when the Lords Bathurst and Hawkesbury (afterwards Liverpool) had expressed their opinions, which were different, relative to the time when the bill should take place, he rose up and pronounced a bitter and vehement oration against it. He said, among other things, that it was full of inconsistency and nonsense from the beginning to the end. The French had lately offered large premiums for the encouragement of this trade. They were a politic people, and the presumption was, that we were doing politically wrong by abandoning it. The bill ought not to have been brought forward in this session. The introduction of it was a direct violation of the faith of the other house. It was unjust, when an assurance had been given that the question should not be agitated till next year, that this sudden fit of philanthropy, which was but a few days old, should be allowed to disturb the public mind, and to become the occasion of bringing men to the metropolis with tears in their eyes and horror in their countenances, to deprecate the ruin of their property, which they had embarked on the faith of parliament. The extraordinary part which the Lord Chancellor Thurlow took upon this occasion, was ascribed at the time by many who moved in the higher circles, to a shyness or misunderstanding which had taken place between him and Mr. Pitt on other matters; when, believing this bill to have been a favourite measure with the latter, he determined to oppose it. But whatever were his motives (and let us hope that he could never have been actuated by so malignant a spirit as that of sacrificing the happiness of forty thousand persons for the next year to spite the gratification of an individual), his opposition had a mischievous effect, on account of the high situation in which he stood; for he not only influenced some of the Lords themselves, but, by taking the cause of the slave-merchants so conspicuously under his wing, he gave them boldness to look up again under the stigma of their iniquitous calling, and courage even to resume vigorous operations after their disgraceful defeat. Hence arose those obstacles which will be found to have been thrown in the way of the passing of the bill from this period. Among the Lords who are to be particularly noticed as having taken the same side as the Lord Chancellor in this debate, were the Duke of Chandos and the Earl of Sandwich. The former foresaw nothing but insurrections of the slaves in our islands, and the massacre of their masters there, in consequence of the agitation of this question. The latter expected nothing less than the ruin of our marine. He begged the house to consider how, by doing that which might bring about the abolition of this traffic, they might lessen the number of British sailors; how, by throwing it into the hands of France they might increase those of a rival nation; and how, in consequence, the flag of the latter might ride triumphant on the ocean. The Slave Trade was undoubtedly a nursery for our seamen. All objections against it in this respect were ill-founded. It was as healthy as the Newfoundland and many other trades. The debate having closed, during which nothing more was done than filling up the blanks with the time when the bill was to begin to operate, the committee was adjourned. But the bill after this dragged on so heavily, that it would be tedious to detail the proceedings upon it from day to day. I shall, therefore, satisfy myself with the following observations concerning them:--The committee sat not less than five different times, which consumed the space of eight days, before a final decision took place. During this time, so much was it an object to throw in obstacles which might occupy the little remaining time of the session, that other petitions were presented against the bill, and leave was asked, on new pretences contained in these, that counsel might be heard again. Letters also were read from Jamaica, about the mutinous disposition of the slaves there, in consequence of the stir which had been made about the abolition; and also from merchants in France, by which large offers were made to the British merchants to furnish them with slaves. Several regulations also were proposed in this interval, some of which were negatived by majorities of only one or two voices. Of the regulations which were carried, the most remarkable were those proposed by Lord Hawkesbury (afterwards Liverpool); namely, that no insurance should be made on the slaves, except against accidents by fire and water; that persons should not be appointed as officers of vessels transporting them, who had not been a certain number of such voyages before; that a regular surgeon only should be capable of being employed in them; and that both the captain and surgeon should have bounties, if, in the course of the transportation, they had lost only two in a hundred slaves. The Duke of Chandos again, and Lord Sydney, were the more conspicuous among the opposers of the humane bill; and the Duke of Richmond, the Marquis Townshend, the Earl of Carlisle, the Bishop of London, and Earl Stanhope, among the most strenuous supporters of it. At length it passed by a majority of nineteen to eleven votes. On the 4th of July, when the bill had been returned to the Commons, it was moved, that the amendments made in it by the Lords should be read; but as it had become a money-bill in consequence of the bounties to be granted, and as new regulations were to be incorporated in it, it was thought proper that it should be wholly done away. Accordingly Sir William Dolben moved, that the further consideration of it should be put off till that day three months. This having been agreed upon, he then moved for leave to bring in a new bill. This was accordingly introduced, and an additional clause was inserted in it, relative to bounties, by Mr. Pitt. But on the second reading, that no obstacle might be omitted which could legally be thrown in the way of its progress, petitions were presented against it, both by the Liverpool merchants and the agent for the island of Jamaica, under the pretence that it was a new bill. Their petitions, however, were rejected, and it was committed and passed through its regular stages, and sent up to the Lords. On its arrival there on the 5th of July, petitions from London and Liverpool still followed it. The prayer of these was against the general tendency of it, but it was solicited also that counsel might be heard in a particular case; the solicitation was complied with; after which the bill was read a second time, and ordered to be committed. On the 7th, when it was taken next into consideration, two other petitions were presented against it. But here so many objections were made to the clauses of it as they then stood, and such new matter suggested that the Duke of Richmond, who was a strenuous supporter of it, thought it best to move that the committee then sitting should be deferred till that day seven-night, in order to give time for another more perfect to originate in the lower house. This motion having been acceded to, Sir William Dolben introduced a new one for the third time into the Commons. This included the suggestions which had been made in the Lords. It included also a regulation, on the motion of Mr. Sheridan, that no surgeon should be employed as such in the slave-vessels, except he had a testimonial that he had passed a proper examination at Surgeon's Hall. The amendments were all then agreed to, and the bill was passed through its several stages. On the 10th of July, being now fully amended it came for a third time before the Lords; but it was no sooner brought forward than it met with the same opposition as it had experienced before. Two new petitions appeared against it; one from a certain class of persons in Liverpool, and another from Miles Peter Andrews, Esq., stating that if it passed into a law it would injure the sale of his gunpowder, and that he had rendered great services to the government during the last war, by his provision of that article. But here the Lord Chancellor Thurlow reserved himself for an effort, which, by occasioning only a day's delay, would, in that particular period of the session have totally prevented the passing of the bill. He suggested certain amendments for consideration and discussion which, if they had agreed upon, must have been carried again to the lower House, and sanctioned there before the bill could have been complete. But it appeared afterwards, that there would have been no time for the latter proceeding. Earl Stanhope, therefore, pressed this circumstance peculiarly upon the lords who were present. He observed that the king was to dismiss the parliament next day, and therefore they must adopt the bill as it stood, or reject it altogether. There was no alternative, and no time was to be lost: accordingly, he moved for an immediate division on the first of the amendments proposed by Lord Thurlow. This having taken place, it was negatived. The other amendments shared the same fate; and thus, at length, passed through the Upper House, as through an ordeal as it were of fire, the first bill that ever put fetters upon that barbarous and destructive monster, the Slave Trade. The next day, or on Friday, July the 11th, the king gave his assent to it, and, as Lord Stanhope had previously asserted in the House of Lords, concluded the session. While the legislature was occupied in the consideration of this bill, the lords of the council continued their examinations, that they might collect as much light as possible previously to the general agitation of the question in the next session of parliament. Among others I underwent an examination: I gave my testimony first, relative to many of the natural productions of Africa, of which I produced the specimens. These were such as I had collected in the course of my journey to Bristol and Liverpool, and elsewhere. I explained, secondly, the loss and usage of seamen in the Slave Trade. To substantiate certain points, which belonged to this branch of the subject, I left several depositions and articles of agreement for the examination of the council. With respect to others, as it would take a long time to give all the data upon which calculations had been made, and the manner of making them, I was desired to draw up a statement of particulars, and to send it to the council at a future time. I left also depositions with them, relative to certain instances of the mode of procuring and treating slaves. The committee also for effecting the abolition of the Slave Trade continued their attention, during this period, towards the promotion of the different objects which came within the range of the institution. They added the Rev. Dr. Coombe, in consequence of the great increase of their business, to the list of their members. They voted thanks to Mr. Hughes, vicar of Ware, in Hertfordshire, for his excellent answer to Harris's _Scriptural Researches on the Licitness of the Slave Trade_, and they enrolled him among their honorary and corresponding members. Also thanks to William Roscoe, Esq., for his Answer to the same. Mr. Roscoe had not affixed his name to this pamphlet any more than to his poem of _The Wrongs of Africa_; but he made himself known to the committee as the author of both. Also thanks to William Smith and Henry Beaufoy, Esqrs., for having so successfully exposed the evidence offered by the slave merchants against the bill of Sir William Dolben, and for having drawn out of it so many facts, all making for their great object the abolition of the Slave Trade. As the great question was to be discussed in the approaching sessions, it was moved in the committee to consider of the propriety of sending persons to Africa and the West Indies, who should obtain information relative to the different branches of the system as they existed in each of these countries, in order that they might be able to give their testimony, from their own experience, before one or both of the houses of parliament, as it might be judged proper. This proposition was discussed at two or three several meetings. It was, however, finally rejected, and principally on the following grounds--First, It was obvious that persons sent out upon such an errand would be exposed to such dangers from varying causes, that it was not improbably that both they and their testimony might be lost. Secondly, Such persons would be obliged to have recourse to falsehoods, that is, to conceal or misrepresent the objects of their destination, that they might get their intelligence with safety; which falsehoods the committee could not countenance. To which it was added, that few persons would go to these places, except they were handsomely rewarded for their trouble; but this reward would lessen the value of their evidence, as it would afford a handle to the planters and slave-merchants to say that they had been bribed. Another circumstance which came before the committee was the following:--Many arguments were afloat at this time relative to the great impolicy of abolishing the Slave Trade, the principal of which was, that, if the English abandoned it, other foreign nations would take it up; and thus, while they gave up certain national profits themselves, the great cause of humanity would not be benefited, nor would any moral good be done by the measure. Now there was a presumption that, by means of the society instituted in Paris, the French nation might be awakened to this great subject; and that the French government might in consequence, as well as upon other considerations, be induced to favour the general feeling upon this occasion. But there was no reason to conclude, either than any other maritime people, who had been engaged in the Slave Trade, would relinquish it, or that any other, who had not yet been engaged in it, would not begin it when our countrymen should give it up. The consideration of these circumstances occupied the attention of the committee; and as Dr. Spaarman, who was said to have been examined by the privy council, was returning home, it was thought advisable to consider whether it would not be proper for the committee to select certain of their own books on the subject of the Slave Trade, and send them by him, accompanied by a letter, to the King of Sweden, in which they should entreat his consideration of this powerful argument which now stood in the way of the cause of humanity, with a view that, as one of the princes of Europe, he might contribute to obviate it, by preventing his own subjects, in case of the dereliction of this commerce by ourselves, from embarking in it. The matter having been fully considered, it was resolved that the proposed measure would be proper, and it was accordingly adapted. By a letter received afterwards from Dr. Spaarman, it appeared that both the letter and the books had been delivered, and received graciously; and that he was authorized to say, that, unfortunately, in consequence of those hereditary possessions which had devolved upon His Majesty, he was obliged to confess that he was the sovereign of an island which had been principally peopled by African slaves, but that he had been frequently mindful of their hard case. With respect to the Slave Trade, he never heard of an instance in which the merchants of his own native realm had embarked in it; and as they had preserved their character pure in this respect, he would do all he could that it should not be sullied in the eyes of the generous English nation, by taking up, in the case which had been pointed out to him, such an odious concern. By this time I had finished my _Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave Trade_, which I composed from materials collected chiefly during my journey to Bristol, Liverpool, and Lancaster. These materials I had admitted with great caution and circumspection; indeed I admitted none for which I could not bring official and other authentic documents, or living evidences if necessary, whose testimony could not reasonably be denied; and when I gave them to the world, I did it under the impression that I ought to give them as scrupulously as if I were to be called upon to substantiate them upon oath. It was of peculiar moment that this book should make its appearance at this time. First, Because it would give the lords of the council, who were then sitting, an opportunity of seeing many important facts, and of inquiring into their authenticity; and it might suggest to them, also, some new points, or such as had not fallen within the limits of the arrangement they had agreed upon for their examinations on this subject: and secondly, Because, as the members of the House of Commons were to take the question into consideration early in the next sessions, it would give them, also, new light and information upon it before this period. Accordingly the committee ordered two thousand copies of it to be struck off, for these and other objects; and though the contents of it were most diligently sifted by the different opponents of the cause, they never even made an attempt to answer it. It continued, on the other hand, during the inquiry of the legislature, to afford the basis or grounds upon which to examine evidences on the political part of the subject; and evidences thus examined continued in their turn to establish it. Among the other books ordered to be printed by the committee within the period now under our consideration, were a new edition of two thousand of the DEAN OF MIDDLEHAM'S _Letter_, and another of three thousand of FALCONBBIDGE'S _Account of the Slave Trade_. The committee continued to keep ups, during the same period, a communication with many of their old correspondents, whose names have been already mentioned. But they received, also, letters from others, who had not hitherto addressed them: namely, from Ellington Wright, of Erith; Dr. Franklin, of Philadelphia; Eustace Kentish, Esq., high sheriff for the county of Huntingdon; Governor Bouchier; the Reverend Charles Symmons, of Haverfordwest; and from John York and William Downes, Esquires, high sheriffs for the counties of York and Hereford. A letter, also, was read in this interval from Mr. Evans, a dissenting clergyman, of Bristol, stating that the elders of several Baptist churches, forming the western Baptist association, who had met at, Portsmouth Common, had resolved to recommend it to the ministers and members of the same, to unite with the committee in the promotion of the great object of their institution. Another from Mr. Andrew Irvin, of the Island of Grenada, in which he confirmed the wretched situation of many of the slaves there, and in which he gave the outlines of a plan for bettering their condition, as well as that of those in the other islands. Another from I.L. Wynne, Esq., of Jamaica. In this he gave an afflicting account of the suffering and unprotected state of the slaves there, which it was high time to rectify. He congratulated the committee on their institution, which he thought would tend to promote so desirable an end; but desired them not to stop short of the total abolition of the Slave Trade, as no other measure would prove effectual against the evils of which he complained. This trade, he said, was utterly unnecessary, as his own plantation, on which his slaves had increased rapidly by population, and others which he knew to be similarly circumstanced, would abundantly testify. He concluded by promising to give the committee such information from time to time as might be useful on this important subject. The session of parliament having closed, the committee thought it right to make a report to the public: in which they gave an account of the great progress of their cause since the last; of the state in which they then were; and of the unjustifiable conduct of their opponents, who industriously misrepresented their views, but particularly by attributing to them the design of abolishing slavery: and they concluded by exhorting their friends not to relax their endeavours on account of favourable appearances; but to persevere, as if nothing had been done, under the pleasing hope of an honourable triumph. And now having given the substance of the labours of the committee from its formation to the present time, I cannot conclude this chapter without giving to the worthy members of it that tribute of affectionate and grateful praise, which is due to them for their exertions in having forwarded the great cause which was intrusted to their care. And this I can do with more propriety, because, having been so frequently absent from them when they were engaged in the pursuit of this their duty, I cannot be liable to the suspicion, that in bestowing commendation upon them I am bestowing it upon myself. From about the end of May, 1787, to the middle of July, 1788, they had no less than fifty-one committees. These generally occupied them from about six in the evening till about eleven at night. In the intervals between the committees they were often occupied, having each of them some object committed to his charge. It is remarkable, too, that though they were all, except one, engaged in, business or trade, and though they had the same calls as other men for innocent recreation, and the same interruptions of their health, there were individuals who were not absent more than five or six times within this period. In the course of the thirteen months, during which they had exercised this public trust, they had printed, and afterwards distributed, not at random, but judiciously, and through, respectable channels, (besides 26,526 reports, accounts of debates in parliament, and other small papers,) no less than 51,432 pamphlets, or books. Nor, was the effect, produced within this short period otherwise than commensurate with the efforts used. In May, 1787, the only public notice taken of this great cause was by this committee of twelve individuals, of whom all were little known to the world except Mr. Granville Sharp. But in July, 1788, it had attracted the notice of several distinguished individuals in France and Germany; and in our own country it had come within the notice of the government, and a branch of it had undergone a parliamentary discussion and restraint. It had arrested, also, the attention of the nation, and it had produced a kind of holy flame, or enthusiasm, and this to a degree and to an extent never before witnessed. Of the purity of this flame no better proof can be offered, than that even Bishops deigned to address an obscure committee, consisting principally of Quakers; and that Churchmen and Dissenters forgot their difference of religious opinions, and joined their hands, all over the kingdom, in its support. CHAPTER XXIV. Continuation from June 1788 to July 1789.--Author travels to collect further evidence; great difficulties in obtaining it; forms committees on his tour.--Privy council resume the examinations; inspect cabinet of African productions; obliged to leave many of the witnesses in behalf of the abolition unexamined; prepare their report--Labours of the committee in the interim.--Proceedings of the planters and others.--Report laid on the table of the House of Commons.--Introduction of the question, and debate there; twelve propositions deduced from the report and reserved for future discussion; day of discussion arrives; opponents refuse to argue from the report; require new evidence; this granted and introduced; further consideration of the subject deferred to the next session.--Renewal of Sir William Dolben's bill.--Death and character of Ramsay. Matters had now become serious. The gauntlet had been thrown down and accepted. The combatants had taken their stations, and the contest was to be renewed, which was to be decided soon on the great theatre of the nation. The committee by the very act of their institution had pronounced the Slave Trade to be criminal. They, on the other hand, who were concerned in it, had denied the charge. It became the one to prove, and the other to refute it, or to fall in the ensuing session. The committee, in this perilous situation, were anxious to find out such other persons as might become proper evidences before the privy council. They had hitherto sent there only nine or ten, and they had then only another, whom they could count upon for this purpose, in their view. The proposal of sending persons to Africa, and the West Indies, who might come back and report what they had witnessed, had already been negatived. The question then was, what they were to do. Upon this they deliberated, and the result was an application to me to undertake a journey to different parts of the kingdom for this purpose. When this determination was made, I was at Teston, writing a long letter to the privy council on the ill usage and mortality of the seamen employed in the Slave Trade, which it had been previously agreed should be received as evidence there. I thought it proper, however, before I took my departure, to form a system of questions upon the general subject. These I divided into six tables. The first related to the productions of Africa, and the dispositions and manners of the natives. The second, to the methods of reducing them to slavery. The third, to the manner of bringing them to the ships, their value, the medium of exchange, and other circumstances. The fourth, to their transportation. The fifth, to their treatment in the colonies. The sixth, to the seamen employed in the trade. These tables contained together one hundred and forty-five questions. My idea was that they should be printed on a small sheet of paper, which should be folded up in seven or eight leaves, of the length and breadth of a small almanac, and then be sent in franks to our different correspondents. These, when they had them, might examine persons capable of giving evidence, who might live in their neighbourhoods, or fall in their way, and return us their examinations by letter. The committee having approved and printed the tables of questions, I began my tour. I had selected the southern counties from Kent to Cornwall for it. I had done this, because these included the great stations of the ships of war in ordinary; and as these were all under the superintendence of Sir Charles Middleton, as comptroller of the navy, I could get an introduction to those on board them. Secondly, because sea-faring people, when they retire from a marine life, usually settle in some town or village upon the coast. Of this tour I shall not give the reader any very particular account. I shall mention only those things which are most worthy of his notice in it. At Poole, in Dorsetshire, I laid the foundation of a committee, to act in harmony with that of London for the promotion of the cause. Moses Neave, of the respectable society of the Quakers, was the chairman; Thomas Bell, the secretary; and Ellis B. Metford and the Reverend Mr. Davis and others the committee. This was the third committee which had been instituted in the country for this purpose. That at Bristol, under Mr. Joseph Harford as chairman, and Mr. Lunell as secretary, had been the first: and that at Manchester, under Mr. Thomas Walker as chairman, and Mr. Samuel Jackson as secretary, had been the second. As Poole was a great place for carrying on the trade to Newfoundland, I determined to examine the assertion of the Earl of Sandwich in the House of Lords, when he said, in the debate on Sir William Dolben's bill, that the Slave Trade was not more fatal to seamen than the Newfoundland and some others. This assertion I knew at the time to be erroneous, as far as my own researches had been concerned: for out of twenty-four vessels, which had sailed out of the port of Bristol in that employ, only two sailors were upon the dead list. In sixty vessels from Poole, I found but four lost. At Dartmouth, where I went afterwards on purpose, I found almost a similar result. On conversing, however, with Governor Holdsworth, I learnt that the year 1786 had been more fatal than any other in this trade. I learnt that in consequence of extraordinary storms and hurricanes, no less than five sailors had died and twenty-one had been drowned in eighty-three vessels from that port. Upon this statement I determined to look into the muster-rolls of the trade there for two or three years together. I began by accident with the year 1769, and I went on to the end of 1772. About eighty vessels on an average had sailed thence in each of these years. Taking the loss in these years, and compounding it with that in the fatal year, three sailors had been lost; but taking it in these four years by themselves, only two had been lost in twenty-four vessels so employed. On comparison with the Slave Trade, the result would be, that two vessels to Africa would destroy more seamen than eighty-three sailing to Newfoundland. There was this difference also to be noted, that the loss in the one trade was generally by the weather or by accident, but in the other by cruel treatment or disease; and that they who went out in a declining state of health in the one, came home generally recovered; whereas they, who went out robust in the other, came home in a shattered condition. At Plymouth I laid the foundation of another committee. The late William Cookworthy, the late John Prideaux, and James Fox, all of the society of the Quakers, and Mr. George Leach, Samuel Northcote and John Saunders, had a principal share in forming it. Sir William Ellford was chosen chairman. From Plymouth I journeyed on to Falmouth, and from thence to Exeter, where having meetings with the late Mr. Samuel Milford, the late Mr. George Manning, the Reverend James Manning, Thomas Sparkes, and others, a desire became manifest among them of establishing a committee there. This was afterwards effected; and Mr. Milford, who at a general meeting of the inhabitants of Exeter, on the 10th of June, on this great subject, had been called by those present to the chair, was appointed the chairman of it. With respect to evidence, which was the great object of this tour, I found myself often very unpleasantly situated in collecting it. I heard of many persons capable of giving it to our advantage, to whom I could get no introduction. I had to go after these many miles out of my established route. Not knowing me, they received me coldly, and even suspiciously; while I fell in with others, who, considering themselves, on account of their concerns and connexions, as our opponents, treated me in an uncivil manner. But the difficulties and disappointments in other respects which I experienced in this tour,--even where I had an introduction, and where the parties were not interested in the continuance of the Slave Trade,--were greater than people in general would have imagined. One would have thought, considering the great enthusiasm of the nation on this important subject, that they who could have given satisfactory information upon it, would have rejoiced to do it. But I found it otherwise; and this frequently to my sorrow. There was an aversion in persons to appear before such a tribunal as they conceived the privy council to be. With men of shy or timid character this operated as an insuperable barrier in their way. But it operated more or less upon all. It was surprising to see what little circumstances affected many. When I took out my pen and ink to put down the information which a person was giving me, he became evidently embarrassed and frightened. He began to excuse himself from staying, by alleging that he had nothing more to communicate, and he took himself away as quickly as he could with decency. The sight of the pen and ink had lost me so many good evidences, that I was obliged wholly to abandon the use of them, and to betake myself to other means. I was obliged for the future to commit my tables of questions to memory; and endeavour by practice to put down, after the examination of a person, such answers as he had given me to each of them. Others went off, because it happened that immediately on my interview, I acquainted them with the nature of my errand and solicited their attendance in London. Conceiving that I had no right to ask them such a favour, or terrified at the abruptness and apparent awfulness of my request some of them gave me an immediate denial, which they would never afterwards retract. I began to perceive in time that it was only by the most delicate management that I could get forward on these occasions. I resolved, therefore, for the future, except in particular cases, that when I should be introduced to persons who had a competent knowledge of this trade, I would talk with them upon it as upon any ordinary subject, and then leave them without saying anything about their becoming evidences. I would take care, however, to commit all their conversation to writing when it was over; and I would then try to find out that person among their relations or friends, who could apply to them for this purpose, with the least hazard of a refusal. There were others, also, who, though they were not so much impressed by the considerations mentioned, yet objected to give their public testimony. Those whose livelihood, or promotion, or expectations, were dependent upon the government of the country, were generally backward on these occasions. Though they thought they discovered in the parliamentary conduct of Mr. Pitt, a bias in favour of the cause, they knew to a certainty that the Lord Chancellor Thurlow was against it. They conceived, therefore, that the administration was at least divided upon the question, and they were fearful of being called upon, lest they should give offence, and thus injure their prospects in life. This objection was very prevalent in that part of the kingdom which I had selected for my tour. The reader can hardly conceive how my mind was agitated and distressed on these different accounts. To have travelled more than two months,--to have seen many who could have materially served our cause,--and to have lost most of them,--was very trying. And though it is true that I applied a remedy, I was not driven to the adoption of it, till I had performed more than half my tour. Suffice it to say, that after having travelled upwards of sixteen hundred miles backwards and forwards, and having conversed with forty-seven persons, who were capable of promoting the cause by their evidence, I could only prevail upon nine, by all the interest I could make, to be examined. On my return to London, whither I had been called up by the committee, to take upon me the superintendence of the evidence, which the privy council was now ready again to hear, I found my brother: he was then a young officer in the navy; and as I knew he felt as warmly as I did in this great cause, I prevailed upon him to go to Havre de Grace, the great slave-port in France, where he might make his observations for two or three months, and then report what he had seen and heard; so that we might have some one to counteract any false statement of things, which might be made relative to the subject in that quarter. At length the examinations were resumed, and with them the contest, in which our own reputation and the fate of our cause were involved. The committee for the abolition had discovered, one or two willing evidences during my absence; and Mr. Wilberforce, who was now recovered from his severe indisposition, had found one or two others. These, added to my own, made a respectable body; but we had sent no more than four or five of these to the council, when the king's illness unfortunately stopped our career. For nearly five weeks between the middle of November and January, the examinations were interrupted or put off, so that at the latter period we began to fear, that there would be scarcely time to hear the rest; for not only the privy council report was to be printed, but the contest itself was to be decided by the evidence contained in it, in the existing session. The examinations, however, went on; but they went on only slowly, being still subject to interruption from the same unfortunate cause. Among others I offered my mite of information again. I wished the council to see more of my African productions and manufactures, that they might really know what Africa was capable of affording, instead of the Slave Trade; and that they might make a proper estimate of the genius and talents of the natives. The samples which I had collected, had been obtained by great labour, and at no inconsiderable expense: for whenever I had notice that a vessel had arrived immediately from that continent, I never hesitated to go, unless under the most pressing engagements elsewhere, even as far as Bristol, if I could pick up but a single new article. The lords having consented, I selected several things for their inspection out of my box,--of the contents of which the following account may not be unacceptable to the reader:-- The first division of the box consisted of woods of about four inches square, all polished. Among these were mahogany of five different sorts, tulip-wood, satin-wood, cam-wood, bar-wood, fustic, black and yellow ebony, palm-tree, mangrove, calabash, and date. There were seven woods, of which the native names were remembered; three of these, Tumiah, Samain, and Jimlake, were of a yellow colour; Acajoú was of a beautiful deep crimson; Bork and Quellé were apparently fit for cabinet work; and Benten was the wood of which the natives made their canoes. Of the, various other woods the names had been forgotten, nor were they known in England at all. One of them was of a fine purple; and from two others, upon which the privy council had caused experiments to be made, a strong yellow, a deep orange, and a flesh-colour were extracted. The second, division included ivory and musk; four species of pepper, the long, the black, the Cayenne, and the Malaguetta; three species of gum, namely, Senegal, Copal, and ruber astringens; cinnamon, rice, tobacco, indigo, white and Nankin cotton, Guinea corn, and millet; three species of beans, of which two were used for food, and the other for dyeing orange; two species of tamarinds, one for food, and the other to give whiteness to the teeth; pulse, seeds, and fruits of various kinds, some of the latter of which Dr. Spaarman had pronounced; from a trial during his residence in Africa, to be peculiarly valuable as drugs. The third division contained an African loom, and an African spindle with spun cotton round it; cloths of cotton of various kinds made by the natives, some white, but others dyed by them of different colours, and others in which they had interwoven European silk; cloths and bags made of grass, and fancifully coloured; ornaments made of the same materials; ropes made from a species of aloes and others, remarkably strong, from glass and straw; fine string made from the fibres of the roots of trees; soap of two kinds; one of which was formed from an earthy substance; pipe-bowls made of clay, and of a brown red; one of these, which came from the village of Dakard, was beautifully ornamented by black devices burnt in, and was besides highly glazed; another brought from Galam, was made of earth, which was richly impregnated with little particles of gold; trinkets made by the natives from their own gold; knives and daggers made by them from our bar-iron; and various other articles, such as bags, sandals, dagger-cases, quivers, grisgris, all made of leather of their own manufacture, and dyed of various colours, and ingeniously sewed together. The fourth division consisted of the thumb-screw, speculum oris, and chains and shackles of different kinds, collected at Liverpool. To these were added, iron neck-collars, and other instruments of punishment and confinement used in the West Indies, and collected at other places. The instrument also, by which Charles Horseler was mentioned to have been killed, in a former chapter, was to be seen among these. We were now advanced far into February, when we were alarmed by the intelligence that the lords of the council were going to prepare their report: At this time we had sent but few persons to them to examine, in comparison with our opponents, and we had yet eighteen to introduce: for answers had come into my tables of questions from several places, and persons had been pointed out to us by our correspondents, who had increased our list of evidences to this number. I wrote therefore to them, at the desire of the committee for the abolition, and gave them the names of the eighteen, and requested also, that they would order, for their own inspection; certain muster-rolls of vessels from Poole and Dartmouth, that they might be convinced that the objection which the Earl of Sandwich had made in the House of Lords, against the abolition of the Slave Trade, had no solid foundation. In reply to my first request they informed me, that it was impossible, in the advanced state of the session, (it being then the middle of March,) that the examinations of so many could be taken; but I was at liberty, in conjunction with the Bishop of London, to select eight for this purpose. This occasioned me to address them again; and I then found, to my surprise and sorrow, that even this last number was to be diminished; for I was informed in writing, "that the Bishop of London having laid my last letter before their lordships, they had agreed to meet on the Saturday next, and on the Tuesday following, for the purposes of receiving the evidence of some of the gentlemen named in it. And it was their lordships' desire that I would give notice to any three of them (whose information I might consider the most material) of the above determination, that they might attend the committee accordingly." This answer, considering the difficulties we had found in collecting a body of evidence, and the critical situation in which we were, was peculiarly distressing; but we had no remedy left us, nor could we reasonably complain. Three therefore were selected, and they were sent to deliver their testimony on their arrival in town. But before the last of these had left the council room, who should come up to me but Dr. Arnold? He had but lately arrived at Bristol from Africa; and having heard from our friends there that we had been daily looking for him, he had come to us in London. He and Mr. Gardiner were the two surgeons, as mentioned in the former chapter, who had promised me, when I was in Bristol, in the year 1787, that they would keep a journal of facts during the voyages they were then going to perform. They had both kept this promise. Gardiner, I found, had died upon the coast; and his journal, having been discovered at his death, had been buried with him in great triumph. But Arnold had survived, and he came now to offer us his services in the cause. As it was a pity that such correct information as that taken down in writing upon the spot should be lost (for all the other evidences, except Dr. Spaarman and Mr. Wadstrom, had spoken from their memory only), I made all the interest I could to procure a hearing for Mr. Arnold. Pleading now for the examination of him only, and under these particular circumstances, I was attended to. It was consented, in consequence of the little time which was now left for preparing and printing the report, that I should make out his evidence from his journal under certain heads. This I did. Mr. Arnold swore to the truth of it, when so drawn up, before Edward Montague, Esquire, a master in Chancery. He then delivered the paper in which it was contained to the lords of the council, who, on receiving it, read it throughout, and then questioned him upon it. At this time, also, my brother returned with accounts and papers relative to the Slave Trade from Havre de Grace; but as I had pledged myself to offer no other person to be examined, his evidence was lost. Thus, after all the pains we had taken, and in a contest, too, on the success of which our own reputation and the fate of Africa depended, we were obliged to fight the battle with sixteen less than we could have brought into the field; while our opponents, on the other hand, on account of their superior advantages, had mustered all their forces, not having omitted a single man. I do not know of any period of my life in which I suffered so much, both in body and mind, as from the time of resuming these public inquiries by the privy council, to the time when they were closed. For I had my weekly duty to attend at the committee for the abolition during this interval. I had to take down the examinations of all the evidences who came to London, and to make certain copies of these. I had to summon these to town, and to make provision against all accidents; and here I was often troubled, by means of circumstances, which unexpectedly occurred, lest, when committees of the council had been purposely appointed to hear them, they should not be forthcoming at the time. I had also a new and extensive correspondence to keep up; for the tables of questions which had been sent down to our correspondents, brought letters almost innumerable on this subject, and they were always addressed to me. These not only required answers of themselves, but as they usually related to persons capable of giving their testimony, and contained the particulars of what they could state, they occasioned fresh letters to be written to others. Hence the writing often of ten or twelve daily became necessary. But the contents of these letters afforded the circumstances, which gave birth to so much suffering. They contained usually some affecting tale of woe. At Bristol my feelings had been harassed by the cruel treatment of the seamen, which had come to my knowledge there: but now I was doomed to see this treatment over again in many other melancholy instances; and, additionally, to take in the various sufferings of the unhappy slaves. These accounts I could seldom get time to read till late in the evening, and sometimes not till midnight, when the letters containing them were to be answered. The effect of these accounts was in some instances to overwhelm me for a time in tears, and in others to produce a vivid indignation, which affected my whole frame. Recovering from these, I walked up and down the room: I felt fresh vigour, and made new determinations of perpetual warfare against this impious trade. I implored strength that I might succeed. I then sat down, and continued my work as long as my wearied eyes would permit me to see. Having been agitated in this manner, I went to bed; but my rest was frequently broken by the visions which floated before me. When I awoke, these renewed themselves to me, and they flitted about with me for the remainder of the day. Thus I was kept continually harassed: my mind was confined to one gloomy and heart-breaking subject for months. It had no respite, and my health began now materially to suffer. But the contents of these letters were particularly grievous, on account of the severe labours which they necessarily entailed upon me in other ways than those which have been mentioned. It was my duty, while the privy council examinations went on, not only to attend to all the evidence which was presented to us by our correspondents, but to find out and select the best. The happiness of millions depended upon it. Hence I was often obliged to travel during these examinations, in order to converse with those who had been pointed out to us as capable of giving their testimony; and, that no time might be lost, to do this in the night. More than two hundred miles in a week were sometimes passed over on these occasions. The disappointments too, which I frequently experienced in journeys, increased the poignancy of the, suffering, which arose from a contemplation of the melancholy cases which I had thus travelled to bring forward to the public view. The reader at present can have no idea of these. I have been sixty miles to visit a person, of whom I had heard, not only as possessing important knowledge, but as espousing our opinions on this subject. I have at length seen him. He has applauded my pursuit at our first interview. He has told me, in the course of our conversation, that neither my own pen, nor that of any other man, could describe adequately the horrors, of the Slave Trade, horrors which he himself had witnessed. He has exhorted me to perseverance in this noble cause. Could I have wished for a more favourable reception!--But mark the issue. He was the nearest relation of a rich person concerned in the traffic; and if he were to come forward with his evidence publicly, he should ruin all his expectations from that Quarter. In the same week I have visited another at a still greater distance. I have met with similar applause. I have heard him describe scenes of misery which he had witnessed, and on the relation of which he himself almost wept. But mark the issue again.--"I am a surgeon," says he; "through that window you see a spacious house; it is occupied by a West Indian. The medical attendance upon his family is of considerable importance to the temporal interests of mine. If I give you my evidence I lose his patronage. At the house above him lives a East Indian. The two families are connected: I fear, if I lose the support of one, I shall lose that of the other also: but I will give you privately all the intelligence in my power." The reader may now conceive the many miserable hours I must have spent, after such visits, in returning home; and how grievously my heart must have been afflicted by these cruel disappointments, but more particularly where they arose from causes inferior to those which have been now mentioned, or from little frivolous excuses, or idle and unfounded conjectures, unworthy of beings expected to fill a moral station in life. Yes, O man! often in these solitary journeyings have I exclaimed against the baseness of thy nature, when reflecting on the little paltry considerations which have smothered thy benevolence, and hindered thee from succouring an oppressed brother. And yet, on a further view of things, I have reasoned myself into a kinder feeling towards thee. For I have been obliged to consider ultimately, that there were both lights and shades in the human character; and that, if the bad part of our nature was visible on these occasions, the nobler part of it ought not to be forgotten. While I passed a censure upon those, who were backward in serving this great cause of humanity and justice, how many did I know, who were toiling in the support of it! I drew also this consolation from my reflections, that I had done my duty; that I had left nothing untried or undone; that amidst all these disappointments I had collected information, which might be useful at a future time; and that such disappointments were almost inseparable from the prosecution of a cause of such magnitude, and where the interests of so many were concerned:-- Having now given a general account of my own proceedings, I shall state those of the committee; or show how they contributed, by fulfilling the duties of their several departments, to promote the cause in the interim. In the first place they completed the rules, or code of laws, for their own government. They continued to adopt and circulate books, that they might still enlighten the public mind on the subject, and preserve it interested in favour of their institution. They kept the press indeed almost constantly going for this purpose. They printed, within the period mentioned, RAMSAY'S, _Address on the proposed Bill for the Abolition; The Speech of Henry Beaufoy, Esq., on Sir William Dolben's Bill_, of which an extract is given in Chap. xxiii.; _Notes by a Planter on the two Reports from the Committee of the Honourable House of Assembly of Jamaica_; _Observations on the Slave Trade_ by Mr. Wadstrom; and DICKSON'S _Letters on Slavery._ These were all new publications. To those they added others of less note, with new editions of the old. They voted their thanks to the Rev. Mr. Clifford, for his excellent Sermon on the Slave Trade; to the pastor and congregation of the Baptist church at Maze Pond, Southwark, for their liberal subscription; and to John Barton, one of their own members, for the services he had rendered them. The latter, having left his residence in town for one in the country, solicited permission to resign, and hence this mark of approbation was given to him. He was continued also as an honorary and corresponding member. They elected David Hartley and Richard Sharpe, Esqs., into their own body, and Alexander Jaffray, Esq., the Rev. Charles Symmons, of Haverfordwest, and the Rev. T. Burgess (afterwards bishop of Salisbury), as honorary and corresponding members. The latter had written _Considerations on the Abolition of Slavery and the Slave Trade, upon grounds of natural, religious, and political Duty_, which had been of great service to the cause. Of the new correspondents of the committee within this period I may first mention Henry Taylor, of North Shields; William Proud, of Hull; the Rev. T. Gisborne, of Yoxall Lodge; and William Ellford, Esq., of Plymouth. The latter as chairman of the Plymouth committee, sent up for inspection an engraving of a plan and section of a slave-ship, in which the bodies of the slaves were seen stowed in the proportion of rather less than one to a ton. This happy invention gave all those who saw it a much better idea, than they could otherwise have had, of the horrors of their transportation, and contributed greatly, as will appear, afterwards, to impress the public in favour of our cause. The next, whom I shall mention, was C.L. Evans, Esq., of West Bromwich; the Rev. T. Clarke, of Hull; S.P. Wolferstan, of Stratford, near Tamworth; Edmund Lodge, Esq., of Halifax; the Rev. Caleb Rotheram, of Kendal; and Mr. Campbell Haliburton, of Edinburgh. The news which Mr. Haliburton sent was very agreeable. He informed us that, in consequence of the great exertions of Mr. Alison, an institution had been formed in Edinburgh, similar to that in London, which would take all Scotland under its care and management, as far as related to this great subject. He mentioned Lord Gardenston as the chairman; Sir William Forbes as the deputy-chairman; himself as the secretary; and Lord Napier, Professor Andrew Hunter, Professor Greenfield, and William Creech, Adam Rolland, Alexander Ferguson, John Dickson, John Erskine, John Campbell, Archibald Gibson, Archibald Fletcher, and Horatius Canning, Esqrs., as the committee. The others were, the Rev. J. Bidlake, of Plymouth; Joseph Storrs, of Chesterfield; William Fothergill, of Carr End, Yorkshire; J. Seymour, of Coventry; Moses Neave, of Poole; Joseph Taylor, of Scarborough; Timothy Clark, of Doncaster; Thomas Davis, of Milverton; George Croker Fox, of Falmouth; Benjamin Grubb, of Clonmell in Ireland; Sir William Forbes, of Edinburgh; the Rev. J. Jamieson, of Forfar; and Joseph Gurney, of Norwich; the latter of whom sent up a remittance, and intelligence at the same time, that a committee, under Mr. Leigh, so often before mentioned, had been formed in that city[A]. [Footnote A: On the removal of Mr. Leigh from Norwich, Dr. Pretyman, precentor of Lincoln and a prebend of Norwich, succeeded him.] But the committee in London, while they were endeavouring to promote the object of their institution at home, continued their exertions for the same purpose abroad within this period. They kept up a communication with the different societies established in America. They directed their attention also to the continent of Europe. They had already applied, as I mentioned before, to the king of Sweden in favour of their cause, and had received a gracious answer. They now attempted to interest other Potentates in it. For this purpose they bound up in an elegant manner two sets of the _Essays on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, and on the Impolicy of the Slave Trade_, and sent them to the Chevalier de Pinto, in Portugal. They bound up in a similar manner three sets of the same, and sent them to Mr. Eden (afterwards Lord Aukland), at Madrid, to be given to the king of Spain, the Count d'Aranda, and the Marquis del Campomanes. They kept up their correspondence with the committee at Paris, which had greatly advanced itself in the eyes of the French nation; so that, when the different bailliages sent deputies to the states-general, they instructed them to take the Slave Trade into their consideration as a national object, and with a view to its abolition. They kept up their correspondence with Dr. Frossard of Lyons. He had already published in France on the subject of the Slave Trade; and now he offered the committee to undertake the task, so long projected by them, of collecting such arguments and facts concerning it, and translating them into different languages, as might be useful in forwarding their views in foreign parts. They addressed letters also to various individuals, to Monsieur Snetlage, doctor of laws at Halle in Saxony; to Monsieur Ladebat, of Bordeaux; to the Marquis de Feuillade d'Aubusson, at Paris; and to Monsieur Necker. The latter in his answer replied in part as follows: "As this great question," says he, "is not in my department, but in that of the minister for the colonies, I cannot interfere in it directly, but I will give indirectly all the assistance in my power. I have for a long time taken an interest in the general alarm on this occasion, and in the noble alliance of the friends of humanity in favour of the injured Africans. Such an attempt throws a new lustre over your nation. It is not yet, however, a national object in France; but the moment may perhaps come, and I shall think myself happy in preparing the way for it. You must be aware, however, of the difficulties which we shall have to encounter on our side of the water; for our colonies are much more considerable than yours; so that in the view of political interest we are not on an equal footing. It will therefore be necessary to find some middle line at first, as it cannot be expected that humanity alone will be the governing principle of mankind." But the day was now drawing near, when it was expected that this great contest would be decided. Mr. Wilberforce, on the 19th of March, rose up in the House of Commons and desired the resolution to be read, by which the house stood pledged to take the Slave Trade into their consideration in the then session; He then moved that the house should resolve itself into a committee of the whole house on Thursday the 23rd of April, for this purpose. This motion was agreed to; after which he moved for certain official documents necessary to throw light upon the subject in the course of its discussion. This motion, by means of which the great day of trial was now fixed, seemed to be the signal for the planters, merchants, and other interested persons to begin a furious opposition. Meetings were accordingly called by advertisement. At these meetings much warmth and virulence were manifested in debate, and propositions breathing a spirit of anger were adopted. It was suggested there, in the vehemence of passion, that the islands could exist independently of the mother country; nor were even threats withheld to intimidate government from effecting the abolition. From this time, also, the public papers began to be filled with such statements as were thought most likely to influence the members of the House of Commons, previously to the discussion of the question. The first impression attempted to be made upon them was with respect to the slaves themselves. It was contended, and attempted to be shown by the revival of the old argument of human sacrifices in Africa, that these were better off in the islands than in their own country. It was contended, also, that they were people of very inferior capacities, and but little removed from the brute creation; whence an inference was drawn that their treatment, against which so much clamour had arisen, was adapted to their intellect and feelings. The next attempt was to degrade the abolitionists in the opinion of the house, by showing the wildness and absurdity of their schemes. It was again insisted upon that emancipation was the real, object of the former; so that thousands of slaves would be let loose in the islands to rob or perish, and who could never be brought back again into habits of useful industry. An attempt was then made to excite their pity in behalf of the planters. The abolition, it was said, would produce insurrections among the slaves. But insurrections would produce the massacre of their masters; and, if any of these should happily escape from butchery, they would be reserved only for ruin. An appeal was then made to them on the ground of their own interest and of that of the people whom they represented. It was stated that the ruin of the islands would be the ruin of themselves and of the country. Its revenue would be half annihilated; its naval strength would decay. Merchants, manufacturers and others would come to beggary. But in this deplorable situation they would expect to be indemnified for their losses. Compensation, indeed, must follow: it could not be withheld. But what would be the amount of it? The country would have no less than from eighty to a hundred millions to pay the sufferers; and it would be driven to such distress in paying this sum as it had never before experienced. The last attempt was to show them that a regulation of the trade was all that was now wanted. While this would remedy the evils complained of, it would prevent the mischief which would assuredly follow the abolition. The planters had already done their part. The assemblies of the different islands had most of them made wholesome laws upon the subject. The very bills passed for this purpose in Jamaica and Grenada had arrived in England, and might be seen by the public; the great grievances had been redressed; no slave could now be mutilated or wantonly killed by his owner; one man could not now maltreat, or bruise, or wound the slave of another; the aged could not now be turned off to perish by hunger. There were laws, also, relative to the better feeding and clothing of the slaves. It remained only that the trade to Africa should be put under as wise and humane regulations as the slavery in the islands had undergone. These different statements, appearing now in the public papers from day to day, began, in this early stage of the question, when the subject in all its bearings was known but to few, to make a considerable impression upon those, who were soon to be called to the decision of it. But that which had the greatest effect upon them, was the enormous amount of the compensation, which, it was said, must be made. This statement against the abolition was making its way so powerfully, that Archdeacon Paley thought it his duty to write, and to send to the committee, a little treatise called _Arguments against the unjust Pretensions of Slave Dealers and Holders, to be indemnified by pecuniary Allowances at the public expense, in case the Slave Trade should be abolished_. This treatise, when the substance of it was detailed in the public papers, had its influence upon several members of the House of Commons; but there were others who had been, as it were, panic-struck by the statement. These in their fright seemed to have lost the right use of their eyes, or to have looked through a magnifying glass. With these the argument of emancipation, which they would have rejected at another time as ridiculous, obtained now easy credit. The massacres too, and the ruin, though only conjectural, they admitted also. Hence some of them deserted our cause wholly, while others, wishing to do justice as far as they could to the slaves on the one hand, and to their own countrymen on the other, adopted a middle line of conduct, and would go no further than the regulation of the trade. While these preparations were making by our opponents to prejudice the minds of those who were to be the judges in this contest, Mr. Pitt presented the privy council report at the bar of the House of Commons; and as it was a large folio volume, and contained the evidence upon which the question was to be decided, it was necessary that time should be given to the members to peruse it. Accordingly, the 12th of May was appointed, instead of the 23rd of April, for the discussion of the question. This postponement of the discussion of the question gave time to all parties to prepare themselves further. The merchants and planters availed themselves of it to collect petitions to parliament from interested persons, against the abolition of the trade, to wait upon members of parliament by deputation, in order to solicit their attendance in their favour, and to renew their injurious paragraphs in the public papers. The committee for the abolition availed themselves of it to reply to these; and here Dr. Dickson, who had been secretary to Governor Hey, in Barbados, and who had offered the committee his _Letters on Slavery_ before mentioned, and his services also, was of singular use. Many members of parliament availed themselves of it to retire into the country to read the report. Among the latter were Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Pitt. In this retirement they discovered, notwithstanding the great disadvantages under which we had laboured with respect to evidence, that our cause was safe, and that, as far as it was to be decided by reason and sound policy, it would triumph. It was in this retirement that Mr. Pitt made those able calculations which satisfied him for ever after, as the minister of the country, as to the safety of the great measure of the abolition of the Slave Trade; for he had clearly proved, that not only the islands could go on in a flourishing state without supplies from the coast of Africa, but that they were then in a condition to do it. At length the 12th of May arrived. Mr. Wilberforce rose up in the Commons and moved the order of the day for the house to resolve itself into a committee of the whole house, to take into consideration the petitions which had been presented against the Slave Trade. This order having been read, he moved that the report of the committee of privy council, that the acts passed in the islands relative to slaves, that the evidence adduced last year on the Slave Trade, that the petitions offered in the last session against the Slave Trade, and that the accounts presented to the house in the last and present session relative to the exports and imports of Africa, be referred to the same committee. These motions having been severally agreed to, the House immediately resolved itself into a committee of the whole house, and Sir William Dolben was put into the chair. Mr. Wilberforce began by declaring, that when he considered how much discussion the subject, which he was about to explain to the committee, had occasioned, not only in that House, but throughout the kingdom, and throughout Europe; and when he considered the extent and importance of it, the variety of interests involved in it, and the consequences which might arise, he owned he had been filled with apprehensions, lest a subject of such magnitude, and a cause of such weight, should suffer from the weakness of its advocate; but when he recollected that, in the progress of his inquiries, he had everywhere been received with candour, that most people gave him credit for the purity of his motives, and that, however many of these might then differ from him, they were all likely to agree in the end, he had dismissed his fears, and marched forward with a firmer step in this cause of humanity, justice, and religion. He could not, however, but lament that the subject had excited so much warmth. He feared that too many on this account were but ill prepared to consider it with impartiality. He entreated all such to endeavour to be calm and composed. A fair and cool discussion was essentially necessary. The motion he meant to offer, was as reconcilable to political expediency as to national humanity. It belonged to no party question. It would in the end be found serviceable to all parties, and to the best interests of the country. He did not come forward to accuse the West India planter, or the Liverpool merchant, or indeed any one concerned in this traffic; but, if blame attached anywhere, to take shame to himself in common, indeed, with the whole parliament of Great Britain, who, having suffered it to be carried on under their own authority, were all of them participators in the guilt. In endeavouring to explain the great business of the day, he said he should call the attention of the House only to the leading features of the Slave Trade. Nor should he dwell long upon these. Every one might imagine for himself what must be the natural consequence of such a commerce with Africa. Was it not plain that she must suffer from it? that her savage manners must be rendered still more ferocious? and that a trade of this nature, carried on round her coasts, must extend violence and desolation to her very centre? It was well known that the natives of Africa were sold as goods, and that numbers of them were continually conveyed away from their country by the owners of British vessels. The question then was, which way the latter came by them. In answer to this question, the privy council report, which was then on the table, afforded evidence the most satisfactory and conclusive. He had found things in it, which had confirmed every proposition he had maintained before, whether this proposition had been gathered from living information of the best authority, or from the histories he had read. But it was unnecessary either to quote the report, or to appeal to history on this occasion. Plain reason and common sense would point out how the poor Africans were obtained. Africa was a country divided into many kingdoms, which had different governments and laws. In many parts the princes were despotic. In others they had a limited rule. But in all of them, whatever the nature of the government was, men were considered as goods and property, and, as such, subject to plunder in the same manner as property in other countries. The persons in power there were naturally fond of our commodities; and to obtain them, (which could only be done by the sale of their countrymen,) they waged war on one another, or even ravaged their own country, when they could find no pretence for quarrelling with their neighbours: in their courts of law many poor wretches, who were innocent, were condemned; and to obtain these commodities in greater abundance, thousands were kidnapped and torn from their families, and sent into slavery. Such transactions, he said, were recorded in every history of Africa, and the report on the table confirmed them. With respect, however, to these he should make but one or two observations. If we looked into the reign of Henry the Eighth, we should find a parallel for one of them. We should find that similar convictions took place; and that penalties followed conviction. With respect to wars, the kings of Africa were never induced to engage in them by public principles, by national glory, and least of all by the love of their people. This had been stated by those most conversant in the subject, by Dr. Spaarman and Mr. Wadstrom. They had conversed with these princes, and had learned from their own mouths that to procure slaves was the object of their hostilities. Indeed, there was scarcely a single person examined before the privy council who did not prove that the Slave Trade was the source of the tragedies acted upon that extensive continent. Some had endeavoured to palliate this circumstance; but there was not one who did not more or less admit it to be true. By one the Slave Trade was called the concurrent cause, by the majority it was acknowledged to be the principal motive, of the African wars. The same might be said with respect to those instances of treachery and injustice, in which individuals were concerned. And here he was sorry to observe that our own countrymen were often guilty. He would only at present advert to the tragedy at Calabar, where two-large African villages, having been for some time at war, made peace. This peace was to have, been ratified by intermarriages; but some of our captains, who were there, seeing their trade would be stopped for a while, sowed dissension again between them. They actually set one village against the other, took a share in the contest, massacred many of the inhabitants, and carried others of them away as slaves. But shocking as this transaction might appear, there was not a single history of Africa to be read, in which scenes of as atrocious a nature were not related. They, he said, who defended this trade, were warped and blinded by their own interests, and would not be convinced of the miseries they were daily heaping on their fellow creatures. By the countenance, they gave it, they had reduced the inhabitants of Africa to a worse state than that of the most barbarous nation. They had destroyed what ought to have been the bond of union and safety among them; they had introduced discord and anarchy among them; they had set kings against their subjects, and subjects against each other; they had rendered every private family wretched; they had, in short, given birth to scenes of injustice and misery not to be found in any other quarter of the globe. Having said thus much on the subject of procuring slaves in, Africa, he would now go to that of the transportation of them. And here he had fondly hoped, that when men with affections and feelings like our own had been torn from their country, and everything dear to them, he should have found some mitigation of their sufferings; but the sad reverse was the case. This was the most wretched part of the whole subject. He was incapable, of impressing the House with what he felt upon it. A description of their conveyance was impossible. So much misery condensed, in so little room was more than the human imagination had ever before conceived. Think only of six hundred persons linked together, trying to get rid of each other, crammed in a close vessel with every object that was nauseous and disgusting, diseased, and struggling with all the varieties of wretchedness. It seemed impossible to add anything more to human misery. Yet shocking as this description must be felt to be by every man, the transportation had been described by several witnesses from Liverpool to be a comfortable conveyance. Mr. Norris had painted the accommodations on board a slave-ship in the most glowing colours. He had represented them in a manner which would have exceeded his attempts at praise of the most luxurious scenes. Their apartments, he said, were fitted up as advantageously for them as circumstances could possibly admit: they had several meals a day; some of their own country provisions, with the best sauces of African cookery; and, by way of variety, another meal of pulse, according to the European taste. After breakfast they had water to wash themselves, while their apartments were perfumed with frankincense and lime-juice. Before dinner they were amused after the manner of their country; instruments of music were introduced; the song and the dance were promoted; games of chance were furnished them; the men played and sang, while the women and girls made fanciful ornaments from beads, with which they were plentifully supplied. They were indulged in all their little fancies, and kept in sprightly humour. Another of them had said, when the sailors were flogged, it was out of the hearing of the Africans, lest it should depress their spirits. He by no means wished to say that such descriptions were wilful misrepresentations. If they were not, it proved that interest or prejudice was capable of spreading a film over the eyes thick enough to occasion total blindness. Others, however, and these men of the greatest veracity, had given a different account. What would the house think, when by the concurring testimony of these the true history was laid open? The slaves who had been described as rejoicing in their captivity, were so wrung with misery at leaving their country, that it was the constant practice to set sail in the night, lest they should know the moment of their departure. With respect to their accommodation, the right ancle of one was fastened to the left ancle of another by an iron fetter; and if they were turbulent, by another on the wrists. Instead of the apartments described, they were placed in niches, and along the decks, in such a manner, that it was impossible for any one to pass among them, however careful he might be, without treading upon them. Sir George Yonge had testified, that in a slave-ship, on board of which he went, and which had not completed her cargo by two hundred and fifty, instead of the scent of frankincense being perceptible to the nostrils, the stench was intolerable. The allowance of water was, so deficient, that the slaves were, frequently found gasping for life, and almost suffocated. The pulse with which they had been said to be favoured, were absolutely English horse-beans. The legislature of Jamaica had stated the scantiness both of water and provisions, as a subject which called for the interference of parliament. As Mr. Norris had said, the song and the dance were promoted, he could not pass over these expressions without telling the house what they meant. It would have been much more fair if he himself had explained the word _promoted_. The truth was, that, for the sake of exercise, these miserable wretches, loaded with chains and oppressed with disease, were forced to dance by the terror of the lash, and sometimes by the actual use of it. "I" said one of the evidences, "was employed to dance the men, while another person danced the women." Such then was the meaning of the, word _promoted_; and it might also be observed with respect to food, that instruments were sometimes carried out in order to force them to eat; which was the same sort of proof, how much they enjoyed themselves in this instance also. With respect to their singing, it consisted of songs, of lamentation for the loss of their country. While they sung they were in tears: so that one of the captains, more humane probably than the rest, threatened a woman with a flogging because the mournfulness of her song was too painful for his feelings. Perhaps he could not give a better proof of the sufferings of these injured people during their passage, than by stating the mortality which accompanied it. This was a species of evidence, which was infallible on this occasion. Death was a witness which could not deceive them; and the proportion of deaths would not only confirm, but, if possible, even aggravate our suspicion of the misery of the transit. It would be found, upon an average of all the ships, upon which evidence had been given, that, exclusively of such as perished before they sailed from Africa, not less than twelve and-a-half per cent died on their passage: besides these, the Jamaica report stated that four and-a-half per cent died while in the harbours, or on shore before the day of sale, which was only about the space of twelve or fourteen days after their arrival there; and one-third more died in the seasoning: and this in a climate exactly similar to their own, and where, as some of the witnesses pretended, they were healthy and happy. Thus out of every lot of one hundred shipped from Africa, seventeen died in about nine weeks, and not more than fifty lived to become effective labourers in our islands. Having advanced thus far in his investigation, he felt, he said, the wickedness of the Slave Trade to be so enormous, so dreadful, and irremediable, that he could stop at no alternative short of its abolition, A trade founded on iniquity, and carried on with such circumstances of horror, must be abolished, let the policy of it be what it might; and he had from this time determined, whatever were the consequences, that he would never rest till he had effected that abolition. His mind had, indeed, been harassed by the objections of the West India planters, who had asserted, that the ruin of their property must be the consequence of such a measure. He could not help, however, distrusting their arguments. He could not believe that the Almighty Being, who had forbidden the practice of rapine and bloodshed, had made rapine and bloodshed necessary to any part of his universe. He felt a confidence in this persuasion, and took the resolution to act upon it. Light, indeed, soon broke in upon him. The suspicion of his mind was every day confirmed by increasing information, and the evidence he had now to offer upon this point was decisive and complete. The principle upon which he founded the necessity of the abolition was not policy, but justice: but though justice were the principle of the measure, yet he trusted he should distinctly prove it to be reconcilable with our truest political interest. In the first place, he asserted that the number of the slaves in our West India islands might be kept up without the introduction of recruits from Africa; and to prove this, he would enumerate the different sources of their mortality. The first was the disproportion of the sexes, there being, upon an average, about five males imported to three females: but this evil, when the Slave Trade was abolished, would cure itself. The second consisted in the bad condition in which they were brought to the islands, and the methods of preparing them for sale. They arrived frequently in a sickly and disordered state, and then they were made up for the market by the application of astringents, washes, mercurial ointments, and repelling drugs, so that their wounds and diseases might be hid. These artifices were not only fraudulent but fatal; but these, it was obvious, would of themselves fall with the trade. A third was, excessive labour joined with improper food; and a fourth was, the extreme dissoluteness of their manners. These, also, would both of them be counteracted by the impossibility of getting further supplies: for owners, now unable to replace those slaves whom they might lose, by speedy purchases in the markets, would be more careful how they treated them in future, and a better treatment would be productive of better morals. And here he would just advert to an argument used against those who complained of cruelty in our islands, which was, that it was the interest of masters to treat their slaves with humanity: but surely it was immediate and present, not future and distant interest, which was the great spring of action in the affairs of mankind. Why did we make laws to punish men? It was their interest to be upright and virtuous: but there was a present impulse continually breaking in upon their better judgment, and an impulse, which was known to be contrary to their permanent advantage. It was ridiculous to say that men would be bound by their interest, when gain or ardent passion urged them. It might as well be asserted, that a stone could not be thrown into the air, or a body move from place to place, because the principle of gravitation bound them to the surface of the earth. If a planter in the West Indies found himself reduced in his profits, he did not usually dispose of any part of his slaves; and his own gratifications were never given up, so long as there was a possibility of making any retrenchment in the allowance of his slaves.--But to return to the subject which he had left: he was happy to state, that as all the causes of the decrease which he had stated might be remedied, so, by the progress of light and reformation, these remedies had been gradually coming into practice; and that, as these had increased, the decrease of slaves had in an equal proportion been lessened. By the gradual adoption of these remedies, he could prove from the report on the table, that the decrease of slaves in Jamaica had lessened to such a degree, that from the year 1774 to the present it was not quite one in a hundred, and that, in fact, they were at present in a state of increase; for that the births in that island, at this moment, exceeded the deaths by one thousand or eleven hundred per annum. Barbados, Nevis, Antigua, and the Bermudas, were, like Jamaica, lessening their decrease, and holding forth an evident and reasonable expectation of a speedy state of increase by natural population. But allowing the number of Negroes even to decrease for a time, there were methods which would insure the welfare of the West India islands. The lands there might be cultivated by fewer hands, and this to greater advantage to the proprietors and to this country, by the produce of cinnamon, coffee, and cotton, than by that of sugar. The produce of the plantations might also be considerably increased, even in the case of sugar, with less hands than were at present employed, if the owners of them would but introduce machines of husbandry. Mr. Long himself, long resident as a planter, had proved, upon his own estate, that the plough, though so little used in the West Indies, did the service of a hundred slaves, and caused the same ground to produce three hogsheads of sugar, which, when cultivated by slaves, would only produce two. The division of work, which, in free and civilized countries, was the grand source of wealth, and the reduction of the number of domestic servants, of whom not less than from twenty to forty were kept in ordinary families, afforded other resources for this purpose. But, granting that all these suppositions should be unfounded, and that everyone of these substitutes should fail for a time, the planters would be indemnified, as is the case in all transactions of commerce, by the increased price of their produce in the British market. Thus, by contending against the abolition, they were defeated in every part of the argument. But he would never give up the point, that the number of the slaves could be kept up, by natural population, and without any dependence whatever on the Slave Trade. He therefore called upon the house again to abolish it as a criminal waste of life--it was utterly unnecessary--he had proved it so by documents contained in the report. The merchants of Liverpool, indeed, had thought otherwise, but he should be cautious how he assented to their opinions. They declared last year that it was a losing trade at two slaves to a ton, and yet they pursued it when restricted to five slaves to three tons. He believed, however, that it was upon the whole a losing concern; in the same manner as the lottery would be a losing adventure to any company who should buy all the tickets. Here and there an individual gained a large prize, but the majority of adventurers gained nothing. The same merchants, too, had asserted, that the town of Liverpool would be mined by the abolition. But Liverpool did not depend for its consequence upon the Slave Trade. The whole export-tonnage from that place amounted to no less than 170,000 tons; whereas the export part of it to Africa amounted only to 13,000. Liverpool, he was sure, owed its greatness to other and very different causes; the Slave Trade bearing but a small proportion to its other trade. Having gone through that part of the subject which related to the slaves, he would now answer two objections which he had frequently heard stated. The first of these was, that the abolition of the Slave Trade would operate to the total ruin of our navy, and to the increase of that of our rivals. For an answer to these assertions, he referred to what he considered to be the most valuable part of the report, and for which the House and the country were indebted to the indefatigable exertions of Mr. Clarkson. By the report it appeared, that, instead of the Slave Trade being a nursery for British seamen, it was their grave. It appeared that more seamen died in that trade in one year than in the whole remaining trade of the country in two. Out of 910 sailors in it, 216 died in the year, while upon a fair average of the same number of men employed in the trades to the East and West Indies, Petersburgh, Newfoundland, and Greenland, no more than eighty-seven died. It appeared also, that out of 3170, who had left Liverpool in the slave-ships in the year 1787, only 1428 had returned. And here, while he lamented the loss which the country thus annually sustained in her seamen, he had additionally to lament the barbarous usage which they experienced, and which this trade, by its natural tendency to harden the heart, exclusively produced. He would just read an extract of a letter from Governor Parrey, of Barbados, to Lord Sydney, one of the secretaries of state. The Governor declared he could no longer contain himself on account of the ill treatment, which the British sailors endured at the hands of their savage captains. These were obliged to have their vessels strongly manned, not only on account of the unhealthiness of the climate of Africa, but of the necessity of guarding the slaves, and preventing and suppressing insurrections; and when they arrived in the West Indies, and were out of all danger from the latter, they quarrelled with their men on the most frivolous pretences, on purpose to discharge them, and thus save the payment of supernumerary wages home. Thus many were left in a diseased and deplorable state; either to perish by sickness, or to enter into foreign service; great numbers of whom were for ever lost to their country. The Governor concluded by declaring, that the enormities attendant on this trade were so great, as to demand the immediate interference of the legislature. The next objection to the abolition was, that if we were to relinquish the Slave Trade, our rivals, the French, would take it up; so that, while we should suffer by the measure, the evil would still go on, and this even to its former extent. This was, indeed, a very weak argument; and, if it would defend the continuance of the Slave Trade, might equally be urged in favour of robbery, murder, and every species of wickedness, which, if we did not practise, others would commit. But suppose, for the sake of argument, that they were to take it up, what good would it do them? What advantages, for instance, would they derive from this pestilential commerce to their marine? Should not we, on the other hand, be benefited by this change? Would they not be obliged to come to us, in consequence of the cheapness of our manufactures, for what they wanted for the African market? But he would not calumniate the French nation so much as to suppose that they would carry on the trade, if we were to relinquish it. He believed, on the other hand, that they would abolish it also. Mr. Necker, the minister of France, was a man of religious principle; and, in his work upon the administration of the finances, had recorded his abhorrence of this trade. He was happy also to relate an anecdote of the king of France, which proved that he was a friend to the abolition; for, being petitioned to dissolve a society, formed at Paris, for the annihilation of the Slave Trade, his majesty answered, that he would not, and was happy to hear that so humane an association was formed in his dominions. And here, having mentioned the society in Paris, he could not help paying a due compliment to that established in London for the same purpose, which had laboured with the greatest assiduity to make this important subject understood, and which had conducted itself with so much judgment and moderation as to have interested men of all religions, and to have united them in their cause. There was another topic which he would submit to the notice of the House, before he concluded. They were perhaps not aware that a fair and honourable trade might be substituted in the natural productions of Africa, so that our connexion with that continent in the way of commercial advantage need not be lost. The natives had already made some advances in it; and if they had not appeared so forward in raising and collecting their own produce for sale as in some other countries, it was to be imputed to the Slave Trade: but remove the cause, and Africa would soon emerge from her present ignorant and indolent state. Civilization would go on with her as well as with other nations. Europe, three or four centuries ago, was in many parts as barbarous as Africa at present, and chargeable with as bad practices. For what would be said, if, so late as the middle of the thirteenth century, he could find a parallel there for the Slave Trade?--Yes. This parallel was to be found even in England. The people of Bristol, in the reign of Henry the Seventh, had a regular market for children, which were bought by the Irish: but the latter having experienced a general calamity, which they imputed as a judgment from Heaven on account of this wicked traffic, abolished it. The only thing, therefore, which he had to solicit of the House, was to show that they were now as enlightened as the Irish were four centuries back, by refusing to buy the children of other nations. He hoped they would do it. He hoped, too, they would do it in an unqualified manner. Nothing less than a total abolition of the trade would do away the evils complained of. The legislature of Jamaica, indeed, had thought that regulations might answer the purpose. Their report had recommended, that no person should be kidnapped, or permitted to be made a slave, contrary to the customs of Africa. But might he not be reduced to this state very unjustly, and yet by no means contrary to the African laws? Besides, how could we distinguish between those who were justly or unjustly reduced to it? Could we discover them by their physiognomy?--But if we could, who would believe that the British captains would be influenced by any regulations; made in this country, to refuse to purchase those who had not been fairly, honestly? and uprightly enslaved? They who were offered to us for sale, were brought, some of them, three or four thousand miles, and exchanged like cattle from one hand to another, till they reached the coast. But who could return these to their homes, or make them compensation for their sufferings during their long journeyings? He would now conclude by begging pardon of the House for having detained them so long. He could indeed have expressed his own conviction in fewer words. He needed only to have made one or two short statements, and to have quoted the commandment, "Thou shalt do no murder." But he thought it his duty to lay the whole of the case, and the whole of its guilt, before them. They would see now that no mitigations, no palliatives, would either be efficient or admissible. Nothing short of an absolute abolition could be adopted. This they owed to Africa: they owed it, too, to their own moral characters. And he hoped they would follow up the principle of one of the repentant African captains, who had gone before the committee of privy council as a voluntary witness, and that they would make Africa all the atonement in their power for the multifarious injuries she had received at the hands of British subjects. With respect to these injuries, their enormity and extent, it might be alleged in their excuse, that they were not fully acquainted with them till that moment, and therefore not answerable for their former existence: but now they could no longer plead ignorance concerning them. They had seen them brought directly before their eyes, and they must decide for themselves, and must justify to the world and their own consciences the facts and principles upon which their decision was formed. Mr. Wilberforce having concluded his speech, which lasted three hours and a half, read, and laid on the table of the House, as subjects for their future discussion, twelve propositions which he had deduced from the evidence contained in the privy council report, and of which the following is the abridged substance:-- 1. That the number of slaves annually carried from the coast of Africa, in British vessels, was about 38,000, of which, on an average, 22,500 were carried to the British islands, and that of the latter only 17,500 were retained there. 2. That these slaves, according to the evidence on the table, consisted, first, of prisoners of war; secondly, of free persons sold for debt, or on account of real or imputed crimes, particularly adultery and witchcraft; in which cases they were frequently sold with their whole families, and sometimes for the profit of those by whom they were condemned; thirdly, of domestic slaves sold for the profit of their masters, in some places at the will of the masters, and in others, on being condemned by them for real or imputed crimes; fourthly, of persons made slaves by various acts of oppression, violence, or fraud, committed either by the princes and chiefs of those countries on their subjects, or by private individuals on each other; or, lastly, by Europeans engaged in this traffic. 3. That the trade so carried on, had necessarily a tendency to occasion frequent and cruel wars among the natives; to produce unjust convictions and punishments for pretended or aggravated crimes; to encourage acts of oppression, violence, and fraud, and to obstruct the natural course of civilization and improvement in those countries! 4. That Africa in its present state furnished several valuable articles of commerce, which were partly peculiar to itself, but that it was adapted to the production of others, with which we were now either wholly or in great part supplied by foreign nations. That an extensive commerce with Africa might be substituted in these commodities, so as to afford a return for as many articles as had annually been carried thither in British vessels: and, lastly, that such a commerce might reasonably be expected to increase, by the progress of civilization there. 5. That the Slave Trade was peculiarly destructive to the seamen employed in it; and that the mortality there had been much greater than in any British vessels employed upon the same coast in any other service or trade. 6. That the mode of transporting the slaves from Africa to the West Indies necessarily exposed them to many and grievous sufferings, for which no regulations could provide an adequate remedy; and that in consequence thereof a large proportion had annually perished during the voyage. 7. That a large proportion had also perished in the harbours in the West Indies, from the diseases contracted in the voyage, and the treatment of the same, previously to their being sold; and that this loss amounted to four and a half percent of the imported slaves. 8. That the loss of the newly-imported slaves, within the three first years after their importation, bore a large proportion to the whole number imported. 9. That the natural increase of population among the slaves in the islands appeared to have been impeded principally by the following causes:--First, by the inequality of the sexes in the importations from Africa. Secondly, by the general dissoluteness of manners among the slaves, and the want of proper regulations for the encouragement of marriages, and of rearing children among them. Thirdly, by the particular diseases which were prevalent among them, and which were, in some instances, to be attributed to too severe labour, or rigorous treatment; and in others to insufficient or improper food. Fourthly, by those diseases, which affected a large proportion of negro-children in their infancy, and by those to which the negroes, newly imported from Africa, had been found to be particularly liable. 10. That the whole number of the slaves in the island of Jamaica, in 1768, was about 167,000, in 1774, about 193,000, and in 1787, about 256,000: that by comparing these numbers with the numbers imported and retained in the said island during all these years, and making proper allowances, the annual excess of deaths above births was in the proportion of about seven-eighths per cent.; that in the first six years of this period it was in the proportion of rather more than one on every hundred; that in the last thirteen years of the same it was in the proportion of about three-fifths on every hundred; and that a number of slaves, amounting to fifteen thousand, perished during the latter period, in consequence of repeated hurricanes, and of the want of foreign supplies of provisions. 11. That the whole number of slaves in the island of Barbados was, in the year, 1764, about 70,706; in 1774, about 74,874; in 1780, about 68,270; in 1781, after the hurricane, about 63,248, and in 1786, about 62,115; that, by comparing these numbers with the number imported into this island, (not allowing for any re-exportation,) the annual excess of deaths above births in the ten years, from 1764 to 1774, was in, the proportion of about five on every hundred; that in the seven years, from 1774 to 1780, it was in the proportion of about one and one-third on every hundred; that between the years 1780 and 1781 there had been a decrease in the number of slaves, of about 5000; that in the six years, from 1781 to 1786, the excess of deaths was in the proportion of rather less than seven-eighths on every hundred; that in the four years, from, 1783 to 1786, it was in the proportion of rather less than one-third on every hundred; and that during the whole period, there was no doubt that some had been exported from the island, but considerably more in the first part of this period than in the last. 12. That the accounts from the Leeward Islands, and from Dominica, Grenada, and St. Vincent's, did not furnish sufficient grounds for comparing the state of population in the said islands, at different periods, with the number of slaves, which had been from time to time imported there, and exported therefrom; but that from the evidence which had been received, respecting the present state of these islands, as well as that of Jamaica and Barbados, and from a consideration of the means of obviating the causes, which had hitherto operated to impede the natural increase of the slaves, and of lessening the demand for manual labour, without diminishing the profit of the planters, no considerable or permanent inconvenience would result from discontinuing the further importation of African slaves. These propositions having been laid upon the table of the House, Lord Penrhyn rose in behalf of the planters; and next, after him, Mr. Gascoyne, (both members for Liverpool,) in behalf of the merchants concerned in the latter place. They both predicted the ruin and misery which would inevitably follow the abolition of the trade. The former said, that no less than seventy millions were mortgaged upon lands in the West Indies, all of which would be lost. Mr. Wilberforce, therefore, should have made a motion to pledge the House to the repayment of this sum, before he had brought forward his propositions. Compensation ought to have been agreed upon as a previous necessary measure. The latter said, that in consequence of the bill of last year, many ships were laid up, and many seamen out of employ. His constituents had large capitals engaged in the trade, and, if it were to be wholly done away, they would suffer from not knowing where to employ them: they both joined in asserting, that Mr. Wilberforce had made so many misrepresentations in all the branches of this subject, that no reliance whatever was to be placed on the picture, which he had chosen to exhibit. They should speak, however, more fully to this point when the propositions were discussed. The latter declaration called up Mr. Wilberforce again, who observed that he had no intention of misrepresenting any fact: he did not know that he had done it in any one instance; but, if he had, it would be easy to convict him out of the report upon the table. Mr. Burke then rose. He would not, he said, detain the committee long: indeed, he was not able, weary and indisposed as he then felt himself, even if he had an inclination to do it; but as on account of his other parliamentary duty, he might not have it in his power to attend the business now before them in its course, he would take that opportunity of stating his opinion upon it. And, first, the House, the nation, and all Europe were under great obligations to Mr. Wilberforce for having brought this important subject forward. He had done it in a manner the most masterly, impressive, and eloquent. He had laid down his principles so admirably, and with so much order and force, that his speech had equalled anything he had ever heard in modern oratory, and perhaps it had not been excelled by anything to be found in ancient times. As to the Slave Trade itself, there could not be two opinions about it, where men were not interested. A trade begun in savage war, prosecuted with unheard-of barbarity, continued during the transportation with the most loathsome imprisonment, and ending in perpetual exile and slavery, was a trade so horrid in all in circumstances, that it; was impossible to produce a single argument in its favour. On the ground of prudence, nothing could be said in defence of it, nor could it be justified by necessity. It was necessity alone that could be brought to justify inhumanity; but no case of necessity could be made out strong enough to justify this monstrous traffic. It was therefore the duty of the House to put an end to it, and this without further delay. This conviction, that it became them to do it immediately, made him regret (and it was the only thing he regretted in the admirable speech he had heard) that his honourable friend should have introduced propositions on this subject. He could have wished that the business had been brought to a conclusion at once, without voting the propositions which had been read to them. He was not over fond of abstract propositions; they were seldom necessary, and often occasioned great difficulty, embarrassment, and delay. There was, besides, no occasion whatever to assign detailed reasons for a vote, which nature herself dictated, and which religion enforced. If it should happen that the propositions were not carried in that House or the other, such a complication of mischiefs might follow, as might occasion them heartily to lament that they were ever introduced. If the ultimate resolution should happen to be lost, he was afraid the propositions would pass as waste paper, if not be injurious to the cause at a future time. And now, as the House must bring this matter to an issue, he would beg their attention to a particular point. He entreated them to look further than the present moment, and to ask themselves if they had fortified their minds sufficiently to bear the consequences which might arise from the abolition of the Slave Trade, supposing they should decide upon it. When they abandoned it, other foreign powers might take it up, and clandestinely supply our islands with slaves. Had they virtue enough to see another country reaping profits, which they themselves had given up; and to abstain from that envy natural to rivals, and firmly to adhere to their determination? If so, let them thankfully proceed to vote the immediate abolition of the Slave Trade. But if they should repent of their virtue, (and he had known miserable instances of such repentance,) all hopes of future reformation of this enormous evil would be lost. They would go back to a trade they had abandoned with redoubled attachment, and would adhere to it with a degree of avidity and shameless ardour, to their own humiliation, and to the degradation and disgrace of the nation in the eyes of all Europe. These were considerations worth regarding, before they took a decisive step in a business, in which they ought not to move with any other determination than to abide by the consequences at all hazards. The honourable gentleman (who to his eternal honour had introduced this great subject to their notice) had, in his eloquent oration, knocked at every door, and appealed to every passion, well knowing that mankind were governed by their sympathies. But there were other passions to be regarded; men were always ready to obey their sympathies when it cost them nothing; but were they prepared to pay the price of their virtue on this great occasion? This was the question. If they were, they would do themselves immortal honour, and would have the satisfaction of having done away a commerce, which, while it was productive of misery not to be described, most of all hardened the heart and vitiated the human character. With respect to the consequences mentioned by the two members for Liverpool, he had a word or two to offer upon them. Lord Penrhyn had talked of millions to be lost and paid for; but seeing no probability of any loss ultimately, he could see no necessity for compensation. He believed on the other hand, that the planters would be great gainers by those wholesome regulations, which they would be obliged to make, if the Slave Trade were abolished. He did not however flatter them with the idea that this gain would be immediate. Perhaps they might experience inconveniences at first, and even some loss. But what then? With their loss, their virtue would be the greater. And in this light he hoped the House would consider the matter; for, if they were called upon to do an act of virtuous energy and heroism, they ought to think it right to submit to temporary disadvantages for the sake of truth, justice, humanity, and the prospect of greater happiness. The other member, Mr. Gascoyne, had said that his constituents, if the trade were abolished, could not employ their capitals elsewhere. But whether they could or not, it was the duty of that House, if they put them into a traffic which was shocking to humanity and disgraceful to the nation, to change their application, and not to allow them to be used to a barbarous purpose. He believed, however, that the merchants of Liverpool would find no difficulty on this head. All capitals required active motion; it was in their nature not to remain passive and unemployed; they would soon turn them into other channels. This they had done themselves during the American war; for the Slave Trade was almost wholly lost, and yet they had their ships employed, either as transports in the service of government or in other ways. And as he now called upon the House not to allow any conjectural losses to become impediments in the way of the abolition of the Slave Trade, so he called upon them to beware how they suffered any representations of the happiness of the state of slavery in our islands to influence them against so glorious a measure. Admiral Barrington had said in his testimony, that he had often envied the condition of the slaves there. But surely, the honourable admiral must have meant, that, as he had often toiled like a slave in the defence of his country, (as his many gallant actions had proved,) so he envied the day when he was to toil in a similar manner in the same cause. If, however, his words were to be taken literally, his sensations could only be accounted for by his having seen the negroes in the hour of their sports, when a sense of the misery of their condition was neither felt by themselves not visible to others. But their appearance on such occasions did by no means disprove their low and abject state. Nothing made a happy slave but a degraded man. In proportion as the mind grows callous to its degradation, and all sense of manly pride is lost, the slave feels comfort. In fact, he is no longer a man. If he were to define a man, he would say with Shakespeare, Man is a being holding large discourse, Looking before and after. But, a slave was incapable of looking before and after; he had no motive to do it; he was a mere passive instrument in the hands of others to be used at their discretion. Though living, he was, dead as to all voluntary agency; though moving amidst the creation with an erect form, and with the shape and semblance of a human being, he was a nullity as a man. Mr. Pitt thanked his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce for having at length introduced this great and important subject to the consideration of the House. He thanked him also for the perspicuous, forcible, and masterly manner in which he had treated it. He was sure that no argument compatible with any idea of justice could be assigned for the continuation of the Slave Trade. And at the same time that he was willing to listen with candour and attention to everything that could be urged on the other side of the question, he was sure that the principles, from which his opinion was deduced, were unalterable. He had examined the subject with the anxiety which became him, where the happiness and interests of so many thousands were concerned, and with the minuteness which would be expected of him, on account of, the responsible situation which he held; and he averred that it was sophistry, obscurity of ideas, and vagueness of reasoning, which alone could have hitherto prevented all mankind (those immediately interested in the question excepted) from agreeing in one and the same opinion upon the subject. With respect to the propriety of introducing the individual propositions which had been offered, he differed with Mr. Burke, and he thanked his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce for having chosen the only way in which it could be made obvious to the worlds that they were warranted on every ground of reason and of fact in coming to that vote, which he trusted would be the end of their proceeding. The grounds for the attainment of this end were distinctly stated in the propositions. Let the propositions be brought before the House, one by one, and argued from the evidence, and it would then be seen that they were such as no one, who was not deaf to the language of reason, could deny. Let them be once entered upon the journals of that House, and it was almost impossible they should fail. The abolition must be voted; as to the mode of it, or how it should be effected, they were not at present to discuss it; but he trusted it would be such as would not invite foreign powers to supply our islands with slaves by a clandestine trade. After a debt, founded on the immutable principles of justice, was found to be due, it was impossible but the country had means to cause it to be paid. Should such an illicit proceeding be attempted; the only language which it became us to adopt, was, that Great Britain had resources to enable her to protect her islands, and to prevent that traffic from being clandestinely carried on by them, which she had thought fit from a regard to her character to abandon. It was highly becoming Great Britain to take the lead of other nations in such a virtuous and magnificent measure, and he could not but have confidence that they would he inclined to share the honour with us, or be pleased to follow us as their example. If we were disposed to set about this glorious work in earnest, they might he invited to concur with us by a negotiation to be immediately opened for that purpose. He would only now observe, before he sat down, in answer to certain ideas thrown out, that he could by no means acquiesce in any compensation for losses which might be sustained by the people of Liverpool or by others in any other part of the kingdom, in the execution of this just and necessary undertaking. Sir William Yonge said, he wanted no inducement to concur with the honourable mover of the propositions, provided the latter could be fairly established, and no serious mischiefs were to arise from the abolition. But he was apprehensive, that many evils might follow in the case of any sudden or unlooked-for decrease in the slaves. They might be destroyed by hurricanes. They might be swept off by many fatal disorders. In these cases, the owners of them would not be able to fill up their places, and they who had lent money upon the lands, where the losses had happened, would foreclose their mortgages. He was fearful, also, that a clandestine trade would be carried on, and then the sufferings of the Africans, crammed up in small vessels, which would be obliged to be hovering about from day to day, to watch an opportunity of landing, would be ten times greater than any which they now experienced in the legal trade. He was glad, however, as the matter was to be discussed, that it had been brought forward in the shape of distinct propositions, to be grounded upon the evidence in the privy council report. Mr. Fox observed that he did not like, where he agreed as to the substance of a measure, to differ with respect to the form of it. If, however, he differed in any thing in the present case, it was with a view rather to forward the business than to injure it, or to throw anything like an obstacle in its way. Nothing like either should come from him. What he thought was, that all the propositions were not necessary to be voted previously to the ultimate decision, though some of them undoubtedly were. He considered them as of two classes: the one, alleging the grounds upon which it was proper to proceed to the abolition; such as that the trade was productive of inexpressible misery, in various ways, to the innocent natives of Africa; that it was the grave of our seamen, and so on; the other merely answering objections which might be started, and where there might be a difference of opinion. He was, however, glad that the propositions were likely to be entered upon the journals; since, if, from any misfortune, the business should be deferred, it might succeed another year. Sure he was that it could not fail to succeed sooner or later. He highly approved of what Mr. Pitt had said relative to the language it became us to hold out to foreign powers, in case of a clandestine trade. With respect, however, to the assertion of Sir William Yonge that a clandestine trade in slaves would be worse than a legal one, he could not admit it. Such a trade, if it existed at all, ought only to be clandestine. A trade in human flesh and sinews was so scandalous, that it ought not openly to be carried on by any government whatever, and much less by that of a Christian country. With regard to the regulation of the Slave Trade, he knew of no such thing as a regulation of robbery and murder. There was no medium. The legislature must either abolish it, or plead guilty of all the wickedness which had been shown to attend it. He would now say a word or two with respect to the conduct of foreign nations on this subject. It was possible that these, when they heard that the matter had been discussed in that House, might follow the example, or they might go before us and set one themselves. If this were to happen, though we might be the losers, humanity would be the gainer. He himself had been thought sometimes to use expressions relative to France, which were too harsh, and as if he could only treat her as the enemy of this country. Politically speaking, France was our rival. But he well knew the distinction between political enmity and illiberal prejudice. If there was any great and enlightened nation in Europe, it was France, which was as likely as any country upon the face of the globe to catch a spark from the light of our fire, and to act upon the present subject with warmth and enthusiasm. France had often been improperly stimulated by her ambition; and he had no doubt but that, in the present instance, she would readily follow its honourable dictates. Mr. (afterwards Lord) Grenville would not detain the house by going into a question which had been so ably argued; but he should not do justice to his feelings, if he did not express publicly to his honourable friend, Mr. Wilberforce, the pleasure he had received from one of the most masterly and eloquent speeches he had ever heard; a speech which, while it did honour to him, entitled him to the thanks of the House, of the people of England, of all Europe, and of the latest posterity. He approved of the propositions as the best mode of bringing this great question to a happy issue. He was pleased, also, with the language which had been held out with respect to foreign nations, and with our determination to assert our right of preventing our colonies from carrying on any trade which we had thought it our duty to abandon. Aldermen Newnham, Sawbridge, and Watson, though they wished well to the cause of humanity, could not, as representatives of the city of London, give their concurrence to a measure which would injure it so essentially as the abolition of the Slave Trade. This trade might undoubtedly be put under wholesome regulations, and made productive of great commercial advantages; but, if it were abolished, it would render the city of London one scene of bankruptcy and ruin. It became the house to take care, while they were giving way to the goodness of their hearts, that they did not contribute to the ruin of the mercantile interests of their country. Mr. Martin stated that he was so well satisfied with the speech of the honourable gentleman who had introduced the propositions, and with the language held out by other distinguished members on this subject, that he felt himself more proud than ever of being an Englishman. He hoped and believed that the melancholy predictions of the worthy aldermen would not prove true, and that the citizens of London would have too much public spirit to wish that a great national object (which comprehended the great duties of humanity and justice) should be set aside, merely out of consideration to their own private interests. Mr. Dempster expected, notwithstanding all he had heard, that the first proposition submitted to them would have been to make good out of the public purse all the losses individuals were liable to sustain from an abolition of the Slave Trade. This ought to have been, as Lord Penrhyn had observed, a preliminary measure. He did not like to be generous out of the pockets of others. They were to abolish the trade, it was said, out of a principle of humanity. Undoubtedly they owed humanity to all mankind; but they also owed justice to those who were interested in the event of the question, and had embarked their fortunes on the faith of parliament. In fact he did not like to see men introducing even their schemes of benevolence to the detriment of other people; and much less did he like to see them going to the colonies, as it were upon their estates, and prescribing rules to them for their management. With respect to his own speculative opinion, as it regarded cultivation, he had no objection to give it. He was sure that sugar could be raised cheaper by free-men than by slaves. This the practice in China abundantly proved; but yet neither he, nor any other person, had a right to force a system upon others. As to the trade itself, by which the present labourers were supplied, it had been considered by that House as so valuable that they had preferred it to all others, and had annually voted a considerable sum towards carrying it on. They had hitherto deemed it an essential nursery for our seamen. Had it really been such as had been represented, our ancestors would scarcely have encouraged it; and therefore, upon these and other considerations, he could not help thinking that they would be wanting in their duty if they abolished it altogether. Mr. William Smith would not detain the House long at that late hour upon this important subject; but he could not help testifying the great satisfaction he felt at the manner, in which the honourable gentleman who opened the debate (if it could be so called) had treated it. He approved of the propositions as the best mode of bringing the decision to a happy issue. He gave Mr. Fox great credit for the open and manly way in which he had manifested his abhorrence of this trade, and for the support he meant to give to the total and unqualified abolition of it; for he was satisfied, that the more it was inquired into, the more it would be found that nothing short of abolition would cure the evil. With respect to certain assertions of the members for Liverpool, and certain melancholy predictions about the consequences of such an event, which others had held out, he desired to lay in his claim for observation upon them when the great question should come before the House. Soon after this the House broke up; and the discussion of the propositions, which was the next parliamentary measure intended, was postponed to a future day, which was sufficiently distant to give all the parties concerned, time to make the necessary preparations for it. Of this interval the committee for the abolition availed themselves, to thank Mr. Wilberforce for the very able and satisfactory manner in which he had stated to the House his propositions for the abolition of the Slave Trade, and for the unparalleled assiduity and perseverance with which he had all along endeavoured to accomplish this object, as well as to take measures themselves for the further promotion of it. Their opponents availed themselves of this interval also. But that which now embarrassed them, was the evidence contained in the privy council report. They had no idea, considering the number of witnesses they had sent to be examined, that this evidence, when duly weighed, could by right reasoning have given birth to the sentiments which had been displayed in the speeches of the most distinguished members of the House of Commons, or to the contents of the propositions which had been laid upon their table. They were thunderstruck as it were by their own weakness; and from this time they were determined, if possible, to get rid of it as a standard for decision, or to interpose, every parliamentary delay in their power. On the 21st of May, the subject came again before the attention of the House. It was ushered in, as was expected, by petitions collected in the interim, and which were expressive of the frightful consequences which would attend the abolition of the Slave Trade. Alderman Newnham presented one from certain merchants in London; Alderman Watson another from certain merchants, mortgagees, and creditors of the sugar-islands; Lord Maitland, another from the planters of Antigua; Mr. Blackburne, another from certain manufacturers of Manchester; Mr. Gascoyne, another from the corporation of Liverpool; and Lord Penrhyn, others from different interested bodies in the same town. Mr. Wilberforce then moved the order of the day for the House to go into a committee of the whole house on the report of the privy council, and the several matters of evidence already upon the table relative to the Slave Trade. Mr. Alderman Sawbridge immediately arose, and asked Mr. Wilberforce if he meant to adduce any other evidence, besides that in the privy council report, in behalf of his propositions, or to admit other witnesses, if such could be found, to invalidate them. Mr. Wilberforce replied, that he was quite satisfied with the report on the table. It would establish all his propositions. He should call no witnesses himself; as to permission to others to call them, that must be determined by the House. This question and this answer gave birth immediately to great disputes upon the subject. Aldermen Sawbridge, Newnham, and Watson; Lords Penrhyn and Maitland; Messrs. Gascoyne, Marsham, and others, spoke against the admission of the evidence which had been laid upon the table. They contended that it was insufficient, defective, and contradictory; that it was _ex parte_ evidence; that it had been manufactured by ministers; that it was founded chiefly on hearsay, and that the greatest part of it was false; that it had undergone no cross-examination; that it was unconstitutional; and that, if they admitted it, they would establish a dangerous precedent, and abandon their rights. It was urged on the other hand by Mr. Courtenay, that it could not be _ex parte_ evidence, because it contained testimony on both sides of the question. The circumstance, also, of its being contradictory, which had been alleged against it, proved that it was the result of an impartial examination. Mr. Fox observed, that it was perfectly admissible. He called upon those, who took the other side of the question, to say why, if it was really inadmissible, they had not opposed it at first. It had now been a long time on the table, and no fault had been found with it. The truth was, it did not suit them; and they were determined by a side-wind, as it were, to put an end to the inquiry. Mr. Pitt observed, that, if parliament had previously resolved to receive no evidence on a given subject but from the privy council, such a resolution, indeed, would strike at the root of the privileges of the House of Commons; but it was absurd to suppose that the House could upon no occasion receive evidence, taken where it was most convenient to take it, and subject throughout to new investigation, if any one doubted its validity. The report of the privy council consisted, first, of calculations and accounts from the public offices; and, next, of written documents on the subject: both of which were just as authentic as if they had been laid upon the table of that House. The remaining part of it consisted of the testimony of living witnesses, all of whose names were published; so that if any one doubted their veracity, it was open to him to re-examine all or each of them. It had been said by adversaries that the report on the table was a weak and imperfect report, but would not these have the advantage of its weakness and imperfection? It was strange, when his honourable friend, Mr. Wilberforce, had said, "Weak and imperfect as the report may be thought to be, I think it strong enough to bear me out in all my propositions," that they, who objected to it, should have no better reason to give than this, "We object, because the ground of evidence on which you rest is too weak to support your cause." Unless it were meant to say (and the meaning seemed to be but thinly disguised) that the House ought to abandon the inquiry, he saw no reason whatever for not going immediately into a committee; and he wished gentlemen to consider whether it became the dignity of their proceedings to obstruct the progress of an inquiry, which the House had pledged itself to undertake. Their conduct, indeed, seemed extraordinary on this occasion. It was certainly singular that; while the report had been five weeks upon the table, no argument had been brought against its sufficiency; but that on the moment when the House was expected to come to an ultimate vote upon the subject, it should be thought defective, contradictory, unconstitutional, and otherwise objectionable. These objections, he was satisfied, neither did nor could originate with the country gentlemen; but they were brought forward; for purposes not now to be concealed, by the avowed enemies of this noble cause. In the course of the discussion which arose upon this subject, every opportunity was taken to impress the House with the dreadful consequences of the abolition! Mr. Heriniker read a long letter from the King of Dahomey to George the First, which had been found among the papers of James, first Duke of Chandos, and which had remained in the family till that time. In this, the King of Dahomey boasted of his victory over the King of Ardrah and how he had ornamented the pavement and walls of his palace with the heads of the vanquished. These cruelties, Mr. Henniker said, were not imputable to the Slave Trade. They showed the Africans to be naturally a savage people, and that we did them a great kindness by taking them from their country. Alderman Sawbridge maintained that, if the abolition passed, the Africans who could not be sold as slaves would be butchered at home; while those who had been carried, to our islands would be no longer under control. Hence insurrections, and the manifold evils which belonged to them. Alderman Newnham was certain that the abolition would be the ruin of the trade of the country. It would affect even the landed interest and the funds. It would be impossible to collect money to diminish the national debt. Every man in the kingdom would feel the abolition come home to hit. Alderman Watson maintained the same argument, and pronounced the trade under discussion to be a merciful and humane trade. Compensation was also insisted upon by Mr. Drake, Alderman Newnham, Mr. Senniker, Mr. Cruger, and others. This was resisted by Mr. Burke; who said, that compensation in such a case would be contrary to every principle of legislation. Government gave encouragement to any branch of commerce while it was regarded as conducive to the welfare of the community; or compatible with humanity and justice; but they were competent to withdraw their countenance from it, when it was found to be immoral, and injurious, and disgraceful to the state: They who engaged in it knew the terms under which they were placed, and adopted it with all the risks with which it was accompanied; and of consequence it was but just, that they should be prepared to abide by the loss which might accrue, when the public should think it right no longer to support it. But such a trade as this it was impossible any longer to support. Indeed it was not a trade. It was a system of robbery. It was a system, too, injurious to the welfare of other nations. How could Africa ever be civilized under it? While we continued to purchase the natives, they must remain in a state of barbarism. It was impossible to civilize slaves. It was contrary to the system of human nature. There was no country placed under such disadvantageous circumstances, into which the shadow of improvement had ever been introduced. Great pains were taken to impress the house with the propriety of regulation. Sir Grey Cooper; Aldermen Sawbridge, Watson, and Newnham; Mr. Marsham, and Mr. Cruger, contended strenuously for it instead of abolition. It was also stated, that the merchants would consent to any regulation of the trade which might be offered to them. In the course of the debate much warmth of temper was manifested on both sides. The expression of Mr. Fox in a former debate, "that the Slave Trade could not be regulated, because there could be no regulation of robbery and murder," was brought up, and construed by planters in the house as a charge of these crimes upon themselves. Mr. Fox, however, would not retract the expression. He repeated it. He had no notion, however, that any individual would have taken it to himself. If it contained any reflection at all, it was on the whole parliament, who had sanctioned such a trade. Mr. Molyneux rose up, and animadverted severely on the character of Mr. Ramsay, one of the evidences in the privy council report, during his residence in the West Indies. This called up Sir William Dolben and Sir Charles Middleton in his defence, the latter of whom bore honourable testimony to his virtues from an intimate acquaintance with him, and a residence in the same village with him, for twenty years. Mr. Molyneux spoke also in angry terms of the measure of abolition. To annihilate the trade, he said, and to make no compensation on account of it, was an act of swindling. Mr. Macnamara called the measure hypocritical, fanatic, and methodistical. Mr. Pitt was so irritated at the insidious attempt to set aside the privy council report, when no complaint had been alleged against it before, that he was quite off his guard, and he thought it right afterwards to apologize for the warmth into which he had been betrayed. The Speaker, too, was obliged frequently to interfere. On this occasion no less than thirty members spoke. And there had probably been few seasons, when so much disorder had been discoverable in that house. The result of the debate was, a permission to those interested in the continuance of the Slave Trade to bring counsel to the bar on the 26th of May, and then to introduce such witnesses, as might throw further light on the propositions in the shortest time: for Mr. Pitt only acquiesced in this new measure on a supposition, "that there would be no unnecessary delay, as he could by no means submit to the ultimate procrastination of so important a business." He even hoped (and in this hope he was joined by Mr. Fox) that those concerned would endeavour to bring the whole of the evidence they meant to offer at the first examination. On the day appointed, the house met for the purposes now specified; when Alderman Newnham, thinking that such an important question should not be decided but in a full assembly of the representatives of the nation, moved for a call of the House on that day fortnight. Mr. Wilberforce stated that he had no objection to such a measure; believing the greater the number present the more favourable it would be to his cause. This motion, however, produced a debate and a division, in which it appeared that there were one hundred and fifty-eight in favour of it, and twenty-eight against it. The business of the day now commenced. The house went into a committee, and Sir William Dolben was put into the chair. Mr. Serjeant Le Blanc was then called in. He made an able speech in behalf of his clients; and introduced John Barnes, Esquire, as his first witness, whose examination took up the remainder of the day. By this step they who were interested in the continuance of the trade, attained their wishes, for they had now got possession of the ground with their evidence; and they knew they could keep it, almost as long as they pleased, for the purposes of delay. Thus they, who boasted, when the privy council examinations began, that they would soon do away all the idle tales which had been invented against them, and who desired the public only to suspend their judgment till the report should come out, when they would see the folly and wickedness of all our allegations, dared not abide by the evidence which they themselves had taught others to look up to as the standard by which they were desirous of being judged: thus they, who had advantages beyond measure in forming a body of evidence in their own favour, abandoned that which they had collected. And here it is impossible for me not to make a short comparative statement on this subject, if it were only to show how little can be made out, with the very best opportunities, against the cause of humanity and religion. With respect to ourselves, we had almost all our witnesses to seek. We had to travel after them for weeks together. When we found them, we had scarcely the power of choice. We where obliged to take them as they came. When we found them, too, we had generally to implore them to come forward in our behalf. Of those so implored, three out of four refused, and the plea for this refusal was a fear lest they should injure their own interests. The merchants, on the other hand, had their witnesses ready on the spot. They had always ships in harbour, containing persons who had a knowledge of the subject, they had several also from whom to choose. If one man was favourable to their cause in three of the points belonging to it, but was unfavourable in the fourth, he could be put aside and replaced. When they had thus selected them, they had not to entreat, but to command their attendance. They had no fear, again, when they thus commanded, of a refusal on the ground of interest; because these were promoting their interest by obliging these who employed them. Viewing these and other circumstances, which might be thrown into this comparative statement, it was some consolation to us to know, amidst the disappointment which this new measure occasioned, and our apparent defeat in the eyes of the public, that we had really beaten our opponents at their own weapons, and that, as this was a victory in our own private feelings, so it was the presage to us of a future triumph. On the 29th of May, Mr. Tierney made a motion to divide the consideration of the Slave Trade into two heads, by separating the African from the West Indian part of the question. This he did for the more clear discussion of the propositions, as well as to save time. This motion, however, was overruled by Mr. Pitt. At length, on the 9th of June, by which time it was supposed that new light, and this in sufficient quantity, would have been thrown upon the propositions, it appeared that only two witnesses had been fully heard. The examinations, therefore, were continued, and they went on till the 23rd. On this day, the order for the call of the house, which had been prolonged, standing unrepealed, there was a large attendance of members. A motion was then made, to get rid of the business altogether, but it failed. It was now seen, however, that it was impossible to bring the question to a final decision in this session; for they who were interested in it, affirmed that they had yet many important witnesses to introduce. Alderman Newnham, therefore, by the consent of Mr. Wilberforce, moved that "the further consideration of the subject be deferred to the next session." On this occasion, Mr. William Smith remarked, that though the decision on the great question was thus to be adjourned, he hoped the examinations at least would be permitted to go on. He had not heard any good reason why they might not be carried on for some weeks longer. It was known that the hearing of evidence was, at all times thinly attended. If, therefore, the few members who did attend, were willing to give up their time a little longer, why should other members complain of an inconvenience in the suffering of which they took no share? He thought that by this the examination of witnesses on the part of the merchants might be finished, and of consequence the business brought into a very desirable state of forwardness against the ensuing session. These observations had not the desired effect, and the motion of Mr. Alderman Newnham was carried without a division. Thus the great question, for the elucidation of which all the new evidences were to be heard at the very first examination, in order that it might be decided by the 9th of June, was, by the intrigue of our opponents, deferred to another year. The order of the day for going into the further consideration of the Slave Trade having been discharged, Sir William Dolben rose to state, that it was his intention to renew his bill of the former year, relative to the conveyance of the unhappy Africans from their own country to the West Indies, and to propose certain alterations in it. He made a motion accordingly, which was adopted; and he and Mr. Wilberforce were desired to prepare the same. This bill he introduced soon afterwards, and it passed; but not without opposition. It was a matter, however, of great pleasure to find that the worthy baronet was enabled by the assistance of Captain (afterwards Admiral) Macbride, and other naval officers in the house, to carry such clauses, as provided in some degree for the comfort of the poor seamen who were seduced into this wicked trade. They could not, indeed, provide against the barbarity of their captains; but they secured them a space under the half deck in which to sleep. They prescribed a form of muster-rolls, which they were to see and sign in the presence of the clearing officer. They regulated their food, both as to kind and quantity; and they preserved them from many of the impositions to which they had been before exposed. From the time when Mr. Wilberforce gave his first notice this session to the present, I had been variously employed, but more particularly in the composition of a new work. It was soon perceived to be the object of our opponents, to impress upon the public the preference, of regulation to abolition. I attempted, therefore, to show the fallacy and wickedness of this notion. I divided the evils belonging to the Slave Trade into two kinds. These I enumerated in their order. With respect to those of the first kind, I proved that they were never to be remedied by any acts of the British parliament. Thus, for instance, what bill could alter the nature of the human passions? What bill could prevent fraud and violence in Africa, while the Slave Trade existed there? What bill could prevent the miserable victims of the trade from rising, when on board the ships, if they saw an opportunity, and felt a keen sense of their oppression? Those of the second I stated to admit of a remedy, and after making accurate calculations on the subject of each, I showed that those merchants who were to do them away effectually, would be ruined by their voyages. The work was called _An Essay on the Comparative Efficiency of Regulation or Abolition as applied to the Slave Trade_. The committee, also, in this interval, brought out their famous print of the plan and section of a slave-ship, which was designed to give the spectator an idea of the sufferings of the Africans in the Middle Passage, and this so familiarly, that he might instantly pronounce upon the miseries experienced there. The committee at Plymouth had been the first to suggest the idea; but that in London had now improved it. As this print seemed to make an instantaneous impression of horror upon all who saw it, and as it was therefore very instrumental, in consequence of the wide circulation given it, in serving the cause of the injured Africans, I have given the reader a copy of it in the annexed plate, and I will now state the ground or basis upon which it was formed. It must be obvious that it became the committee to select some one ship, which had been engaged in the Slave Trade, with her real dimensions, if they meant to make a fair representation of the manner of the transportation. When Captain Parrey, of the royal navy, returned from Liverpool, to which place Government had sent him, he brought with him the admeasurement of several vessels which had been so employed, and laid them on the table of the House of Commons. At the top of his list stood the ship Brookes. The committee, therefore, in choosing a vessel on this occasion, made use of the ship Brookes; and this they did, because they thought it less objectionable to take the first that came, than any other. The vessel, then, in the plate is the vessel now mentioned, and the following is her admeasurement as given in by Captain Parrey. Ft. In. Length of the lower deck, gratings, and bulk heads included at A A 100 0 Breadth of beam on the lower deck inside, B B 25 4 Depth of hold ooo, from ceiling to ceiling 10 0 Height between decks from deck to deck 5 8 Length of the men's room, C C, on the lower deck 46 0 Breadth of the men's room, C C, on the lower deck 25 4 Length of the platform, D D, in the men's room 46 0 Breadth of the platform in the men's room, on each side 6 0 Length of the boys' room, E E 13 9 Breadth of the boys' room 25 0 Breadth of platform, F F, in boys' room 6 0 Length of women's room, G G 28 6 Breadth of women's room 23 6 Length of platform, H H, in women's room 28 6 Breadth of platform in women's room 6 0 Length of the gun-room, I I, on the lower deck 10 6 Breadth of the gun-room on the lower deck 12 0 Length of the quarter-deck, K K 33 6 Breadth of the quarter-deck 19 6 Length of the cabin, L L 14 0 Height of the cabin 6 2 Length of the half-deck, M M 16 6 Height of the half-deck 6 2 Length of the platform, N N, on the half-deck 16 6 Breadth of the platform on the half-deck 6 0 Upper deck, P P The committee, having proceeded thus far, thought that they should now allow certain dimensions for every man, woman, and child; and then see how many persons, upon such dimensions and upon the admeasurements just given, could be stowed in this vessel. They allowed, accordingly, to every man slave 6 ft. by 1 ft. 4in. for room, to every woman 5 ft. by 1 ft. 4 in., to every boy 5 ft. by 1 ft. 2 in., and to every girl 4 ft. 6 in. by 1 ft. They then stowed them, and found them as in the annexed plate, that is, they found, (deducting the women stowed in z of figures 6 and 7, which spaces, being half of the half-deck, were allowed by Sir William Dolben's last bill to the seamen,) that only 450 could be stowed in her; and the reader will find, if he should think it worthwhile to count the figures in the plate, that, on making the deduction mentioned, they will amount to this number. The committee then thought it right to inquire how many slaves the act of Sir William Dolben allowed this vessel to carry, and they found the number to be 454; that is, they found it allowed her to carry four more than could be put in without trespassing upon the room allotted to the rest; for we see that the bodies of the slaves, except just at the head of the vessel, already touch each other, and that no deduction has been made for tubs or stanchions to support the platforms and decks. [Illustration: Slave Ship] [Illustration: Slave Ship] [Illustration: Slave Ship] [Illustration: Slave Ship] Such was the picture which the committee were obliged to draw, if they regarded mathematical accuracy, of the room allotted to the slaves in this vessel. By this picture was exhibited the nature of the Elysium which Mr. Norris and others had invented for them during their transportation from their own country. By this picture were seen also the advantages of Sir William Dolben's bill; for many, on looking at the plate, considered the regulation itself as perfect barbarism. The advantages, however, obtained by it were considerable; for the Brookes was now restricted to 450 slaves, whereas it was proved that she carried 609 in a former voyage. The committee, at the conclusion of the session of parliament, made a suitable report. It will be unnecessary to detail this, for obvious reasons. There was, however, one thing contained in it, which ought not to be omitted. It stated, with appropriate concern, the death of the first controversial writer, and of one of the most able and indefatigable labourers in their cause. Mr. Ramsay had been for some time indisposed. The climate of the West Indies, during a residence of twenty years, and the agitation in which his mind had been kept for the last four years of his life, in consequence of the virulent attacks on his word and character by those interested in the continuance of the trade, had contributed to undermine his constitution. During his whole illness he was cheerful and composed; nor did he allow it to hinder him, severe as it was, from taking any opportunity which offered, of serving those unhappy persons for whose injuries he had so deeply felt. A few days only before he died, I received from him probably the last letter he ever wrote, of which the following is an extract: "My health has certainly taken a most alarming turn; and, if some considerable alteration does not take place for the better in a very little time, it will be all over with me: I mean as to the present life. I have lost all appetite, and suffer grievously from an almost continual pain in my stomach, which leaves me no enjoyment of myself, but such as I can collect from my own reflections, and the comforts of religion. I am glad the bill for the abolition is in such forwardness. Whether it goes through the house or not, the discussion attending it will have a most beneficial effect. The whole of this business I think now to be in such a train, as to enable me to bid farewell to the present scene with the satisfaction of not having lived in vain, and of having done something towards the improvement of our common nature; and this at no little expense of time and reputation. The little I have now written is my utmost effort; yet yesterday I thought it necessary to write an answer to a scurrilous libel in _The Diary_ by one Scipio. On my own account he should have remained unnoticed; but our great cause must be kept unsullied." Mr. Ramsay was a man of active habit, of diligence and perseverance in his undertakings, and of extraordinary application. He was of mild and humble manners. He possessed a strong understanding, with great coolness and courage. Patriotism and public spirit were striking traits in his character. In domestic life he was amiable: in the ministry, exemplary and useful; and he died to the great regret of his parishioners; but most of all to that of those who moved with him in his attempts to bring about the important event of the abolition of the Slave Trade. CHAPTER XXV. Continuation from July 1789 to July 1790.--Author travels to Paris to promote the abolition in France; attends the committees of the Friends of the Negroes.--Counter-attempts of the committee of White Colonists.--An account of the deputies of Colour.--Meeting at the Duke de la Rochefoucauld's.--Mirabeau espouses the cause; canvasses the National Assembly.--Distribution of the section of the slave-ship there.--Character of Brissot.--Author leaves Paris and returns to England.--Examination of merchants' and planters' evidence resumed in the House of Commons.--Author travels in search of evidence in favour of the abolition; opposition to the hearing of it.--This evidence is at length introduced.--Renewal of Sir William Dolben's bill.--Distribution of the section of the slave-ship in England; and of Cowper's Negro's Complaint; and of Wedgewood's Cameos. We usually find, as we give ourselves up to reflection, some little mitigation of the afflictions we experience; and yet of the evils which come upon us, some are often so heavy as to overpower the sources of consolation for a time, and to leave us wretched. This was nearly our situation at the close of the last session of parliament. It would be idle not to confess that circumstances had occurred which wounded us deeply. Though we had foiled our opponents at their own weapons, and had experienced the uninterrupted good wishes and support of the public, we had the great mortification to see the enthusiasm of members of parliament beginning to cool; to see a question of humanity and justice (for such it was when it was delivered into their hands) verging towards that of commercial calculation; and finally to see regulation, as it related to it, in the way of being substituted for abolition; but most of all were we affected, knowing as we did the nature and the extent of the sufferings belonging to the Slave Trade, that these should be continued to another year. This last consideration almost overpowered me. It had fallen to my lot, more than to that of any other person, to know these evils, and I seemed almost inconsolable at the postponement of the question. I wondered how members of parliament, and these Englishmen, could talk as they did on this subject; how they could bear for a moment to consider their fellow-man as an article of trade; and how they should not count even the delay of an hour, which occasioned so much misery to continue, as one of the most criminal actions of their lives. It was in vain, however, to sink under our burdens. Grief could do no good; and if our affairs had taken an unfavourable turn, the question was, how to restore them. It was sufficiently obvious that, if our opponents were left to themselves, or without any counteracting evidence, they would considerably soften down the propositions, if not invalidate them in the minds of many. They had such a power of selection of witnesses, that they could bring men forward who might say with truth that they had seen but very few of the evils complained of, and these in an inferior degree. We knew, also, from the example of the Liverpool delegates, how interest and prejudice could blind the eyes, and how others might be called upon to give their testimony, who would dwell upon the comforts of the Africans when they came into our power; on the sprinkling of their apartments with frankincense; on the promotion of music and the dance among them; and on the health and festivity of their voyages. It seemed, therefore, necessary that we should again be looking out for evidence on the part of the abolition. Nor did it seem to me to be unreasonable, if our opponents were allowed to come forward in a new way, because it was more constitutional, that we should be allowed the same privilege. By these means the evidence, of which we had now lost the use, might be restored; indifference might be fanned into warmth; commercial calculation might be overpowered by justice; and abolition, rising above the reach of the cry of regulation, might eventually triumph. I communicated my ideas to the committee, and offered to go round the kingdom to accomplish this object. The committee had themselves been considering what measures to take, and as each in his own mind had come to conclusions similar with my own, my proposal was no sooner made than adopted. I had not been long upon this journey when I was called back. Mr. Wilberforce, always solicitous for the good of this great cause, was of opinion that, as commotions had taken place in France, which then aimed at political reforms, it was possible that the leading persons concerned in them might, if an application were made to them judiciously, be induced to take the Slave Trade into their consideration, and incorporate it among the abuses to be done away. Such a measure, if realized, would not only lessen the quantity of human suffering, but annihilate a powerful political argument against us. He had a conference, therefore, with the committee on this subject; and, as they accorded with his opinion, they united with him in writing a letter to me, to know if I would change my journey, and proceed to France. As I had no object in view but the good of the cause, it was immaterial to me where I went, if I could but serve it; and therefore, without any further delay, I returned to London. As accounts had arrived in England of the excesses which had taken place in the city of Paris, and of the agitated state of the provinces through which I was to pass, I was desired by several of my friends to change my name. To this I could not consent; and, on consulting the committee, they were decidedly against it. I was introduced as quickly as possible, on my arrival at Paris, to the friends of the cause there, to the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the Marquis de Condorcet, Messieurs Pétion de Villeneuve, Clavière, and Brissot, and to the Marquis de la Fayette. The latter received me with peculiar marks of attention. He had long felt for the wrongs of Africa, and had done much to prevent them. He had a plantation in Cayenne, and had devised a plan, by which the labourers upon it should pass by degrees from slavery to freedom! With this view he had there laid it down as a principle, that all crimes were equal, whether they were committed by Blacks or Whites, and ought equally to be punished. As the human mind is of such a nature, as to be acted upon by rewards as well as punishments, he thought it unreasonable, that the slaves should have no advantage from a stimulus from the former. He laid it down therefore as another principle, that temporal profits should follow virtuous action. To this he subjoined a reasonable education to be gradually given. By introducing such principles, and by making various regulations for the protection and comforts of the slaves, he thought he could prove to the planters, that there was no necessity for the Slave Trade; that the slaves upon all their estates would increase sufficiently by population; that they might be introduced gradually, and without detriment, to a state of freedom; and that then the real interests of all would be most promoted. This system he had began to act upon two years before I saw him. He had also, when the society was established in Paris, which took the name of "The Friends of the Negroes," enrolled himself a member of it. The first public steps taken after my arrival in Paris were at a committee of the Friends of the Negroes, which was but thinly attended. None of those mentioned, except Brissot, were present. It was resolved there, that the committee should solicit an audience of Mr. Necker; and that I should wait upon him, accompanied by a deputation consisting of the Marquis de Condorcet, Monsieur de Bourge, and Brissot de Warville: secondly, that the committee should write to the president of the National Assembly, and request the favour of him to appoint a day for hearing the cause of the Negroes; and thirdly, that it should be recommended to the committee in London to draw up a petition to the National Assembly of France, praying for the abolition of the Slave Trade by that country. This petition, it was observed, was to be signed by as great a number of the friends to the cause in England, as could be procured. It was then to be sent to the committee at Paris, who would take it in a body to the place of its destination. I found great delicacy as a stranger in making my observations upon these resolutions, and yet I thought I ought not to pass them over wholly in silence, but particularly the last. I therefore rose up, and stated that there was one resolution, of which I did not quite see the propriety; but this might arise from my ignorance of the customs, as well as of the genius and spirit of the French people. It struck me that an application from a little committee in England to the National Assembly of France was not a dignified measure, nor was it likely to have weight with such a body. It was, besides, contrary to all the habits of propriety in which I had been educated. The British Parliament did not usually receive petitions from the subjects of other nations. It was this feeling which had induced me thus to speak. To these observations it was replied, that the National Assembly of France would glory in going contrary to the example of other nations in a case of generosity and justice, and that the petition in question, if it could be obtained, would have an influence there, which the people of England, unacquainted with the sentiments of the French nation, would hardly credit. To this I had only to reply, that I would communicate the measure to the committee in London, but that I could not be answerable for the part they would take in it. By an answer received from Mr. Necker, relative to the first of these resolutions, it appeared that the desired interview had been obtained; but he granted it only for a few minutes, and this principally to show his good-will to the cause: for he was then so oppressed with business in his own department, that he had but little time for any other. He wrote to me, however, the next day, and desired my company to dinner. He then expressed a wish to me, that any business relative to the Slave Trade might be managed by ourselves as individuals, and that I would take the opportunity of dining with him occasionally for this purpose. By this plan, he said, both of us would save time. Madame Necker, also, promised to represent her husband, if I should call in his absence, and to receive me, and converse with me on all occasions in which this great cause of humanity and religion might be concerned. With respect to the other resolutions, nothing ever came of them; for we waited daily for an answer from the president during the whole of his presidency, but we never received any; and the committee in London, when they had read my letter, desired me unequivocally to say, that they did not see the propriety of the petition which it had been recommended to them to obtain. At the next meeting it was resolved, that a letter should be written to the new president for the same purpose as the former. This, it was said, was now rendered essentially necessary; for the merchants, planters, and others interested in the continuance of the Slave Trade, were so alarmed at the enthusiasm of the French people in favour of the new order of things, and of any change recommended to them, which had the appearance of prompting the cause of liberty, that they held daily committees to watch and to thwart the motions of the friends of the Negroes. It was therefore thought proper, that the appeal to the Assembly should be immediate on this subject, before the feelings of the people should cool, or before they, who were thus interested, should poison the minds by calculations of loss and gain. The silence of the former president was already attributed to the intrigues of the planters' committee. No time therefore was to be lost. The letter was accordingly written, but as no answer was ever returned to it, they attributed this second omission to the same cause. I do not really know whether interested persons ever did, as was suspected, intercept the letters of the committee to the two presidents as now surmised; or whether they ever dissuaded them from introducing so important a question for discussion, when the nation was in such a heated state; but certain it is, that we had many, and I believe barbarous, enemies to encounter. At the very next meeting of the committee, Clavière produced anonymous letters which he had received, and in which it was stated that, if the society of the Friends of the Negroes did not dissolve itself, he and the rest of them would be stabbed. It was said that no less than three hundred persons had associated themselves for this purpose. I had received similar letters myself; and on producing mine, and comparing the handwriting in both it appeared that the same persons had written. In a few days after this, the public prints were filled with the most malicious representations of the views of the committee. One of them was, that they were going to send twelve thousand muskets to the Negroes in St. Domingo, in order to promote an insurrection there. This declaration was so industriously circulated, that a guard of soldiers was sent to search the committee-room; but these were soon satisfied when they found only two or three books and some waste paper. Reports equally unfounded and wicked were spread also in the same papers relative to myself. My name was mentioned at full length, and the place of my abode hinted at. It was stated at one time, that I had proposed such wild and mischievous plans to the committee in London relative to the abolition of the Slave Trade, that they had cast me out of their own body, and that I had taken refuge in Paris, where I now tried to impose equally on the French nation. It was stated at another, that I was employed by the British government as a spy, and that it was my object to try to undermine the noble constitution which was then forming for France. This latter report, at this particular time, when the passions of men were so inflamed, and when the stones of Paris had not been long purified from the blood of Foulon and Berthier, might have cost me my life; and I mentioned it to General la Fayette, and solicited his advice. He desired me to make a public reply to it: which I did. He desired me also to change my lodging to the Hotel de Yorck, that I might be nearer to him; and to send to him if there should be any appearance of a collection of people about the hotel, and I should have aid from the military in his quarter. He said, also, that he would immediately give in my name to the Municipality; and that he would pledge himself to them, that my views were strictly honourable. On dining one day at the house of the Marquis de la Fayette, I met the deputies of colour. They had arrived only the preceding day from St. Domingo, I was desired to take my seat at dinner in the midst of them. They were six in number; of a sallow or swarthy complexion, but yet it was not darker than that of some of the natives of the south of France. They were already in the uniform of the Parisian National Guards; and one of them wore the cross of St. Louis. They were men of genteel appearance and modest behaviour. They seemed to be well informed, and of a more solid cast than those whom I was in the habit of seeing daily in this city. The account which they gave of themselves was this. The white people of St. Domingo consisting of less than ten thousand persons, had deputies then sitting in the National Assembly. The people of colour in the same island greatly exceeded the whites in number. They amounted to thirty thousand, and were generally proprietors of lands. They were equally free by law with the former, and paid their taxes to the mother-country in an equal proportion. But in consequence of having sprung from slaves they had no legislative power, and moreover were treated with great contempt. Believing that the mother-country was going to make a change in its political constitution, they had called a meeting on the island, and this meeting had deputed them to repair to France, and to desire the full rights of citizens, or that the free people of colour might be put upon an equality with the whites. They (the deputies) had come in consequence. They had brought with them a present of six millions of livres to the National Assembly, and an appointment to General la Fayette to be commander-in-chief over their constituents, as a distinct body. This command, they said, the general had accepted, though he had declined similar honours from every town in France, except Paris, in order to show that he patronized their cause. I was now very anxious to know the sentiments which these gentlemen entertained on the subject of the Slave Trade. If they were with us, they might be very useful to us; not only by their votes in the Assembly, but by the knowledge of facts which they would be able to adduce there in our favour. If they were against us, it became me to be upon my guard against them, and to take measures accordingly. I therefore stated to them at once the nature of my errand to France, and desired their opinion upon it. This they gave me without reserve. They broke out into lavish commendations of my conduct, and called me their friend. The Slave Trade, they said, was the parent of all the miseries in St. Domingo, not only on account of the cruel treatment it occasioned to the slaves, but on account of the discord which it constantly kept up between the whites and people of colour, in consequence of the hateful distinctions it introduced. These distinctions could never be obliterated while it lasted. Indeed both the trade and the slavery must fall, before the infamy, now fixed upon a skin of colour, could be so done away, that whites and blacks could meet cordially, and look with respect upon one another. They had it in their instructions, in case they should obtain a seat in the Assembly, to propose, an immediate abolition of the Slave Trade, and an immediate amelioration of the state of slavery also, with a view to its final abolition in fifteen years. But time was flying apace; I had now been nearly seven weeks in Paris, and had done nothing. The thought of this made me uneasy, and I saw no consoling prospect before me. I found it even difficult to obtain a meeting of the Friends of the Negroes. The Marquis de la Fayette had no time to attend. Those of the committee, who were members of the National Assembly, were almost constantly engaged at Versailles. Such of them as belonged to the Municipality, had enough to do at the Hotel deVille. Others were employed either in learning the use of arms, or in keeping their daily and nightly guards. These circumstances made me almost despair of doing anything for the cause at Paris, at least in any reasonable time. But a new circumstance occurred, which distressed me greatly; for I discovered, in the most satisfactory manner, that two out of the six at the last committee were spies. They had come into the society for no other reason than to watch and report its motions; and they were in direct correspondence with the slave-merchants at Havre de Grace. This matter I brought home to them afterwards, and I had the pleasure of seeing them excluded from all our future meetings. From this time I thought it expedient to depend less upon the committee, and more upon my own exertions; and I formed the resolution of going among the members of the National Assembly myself, and of learning from their own mouths the hope I ought to entertain relative to the decision of our question. In the course of my endeavours I obtained a promise from the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the Comte de Mirabeau the Abbé Siéyes, Monsieur Bergasse, and Monsieur Pétion de Villeneuvé, five of the most approved members of the National Assembly, that they would meet me if I would fix a day. I obtained a similar promise from the Marquis de Condorcet, and Clavière and Brissot, as members selected from the committee of the Friends of the Negroes. And Messieurs de Roveray and Du Monde, two Genevese gentlemen at Versailles, men of considerable knowledge and interest, and who had heard of our intended meeting, were to join us at their own request. The place chosen was the house of the Bishop of Chartres at Versailles. I was now in hope that I should soon bring the question to some issue; and on the 4th of October I went to dine with the Bishop of Chartres to fix the day. We appointed the 7th. But how soon, frequently, do our prospects fade! From the conversation which took place at dinner, I began to fear that our meeting would not be realised. About three days before, the officers of the Garde du Corps had given the memorable banquet, recorded in the annals of the revolution, to the officers of the regiment of Flanders, which then lay at Versailles. This was a topic on which the company present dwelt. They condemned it as a most fatal measure in these heated times; and were apprehensive that something would grow immediately out of it, which might endanger the king's safety. In passing afterwards through the streets of Versailles my fears increased. I met several of that regiment in groups. Some were brandishing their swords. Others were walking arm in arm, and singing tumultuously. Others were standing and conversing earnestly together. Among the latter I heard one declare with great vehemence, "that it should not be; that the revolution must go on." On my arrival at Paris in the evening, the Palais Royal was full of people; and there were movements and buzzings among them, as if something was expected to happen. The next day, when I went into the streets, it was obvious what was going to take place. Suffice it to say, that the next evening the king and queen were brought prisoners into Paris. After this, things were in such an unsettled state for a few days, and the members of the National Assembly were so occupied in the consideration of the event itself, and of the consequences which might attend it, that my little meeting, of which it had cost me so much time and trouble to procure the appointment, was entirely prevented. I had now to wait patiently till a new opportunity should occur. The Comte de Mirabeau, before the departure of the king, had moved, and carried the resolution, that "the Assembly was inseparable from his majesty's person." It was expected, therefore, that the National Assembly would immediately transfer its sittings to Paris. This took place on the 19th. It was now more easy for me to bring persons together, than when I had to travel backward and forward to Versailles. Accordingly, by watching my opportunities, I obtained the promise of another meeting. This was held afterwards at the Duke de la Rochefoucauld's. The persons before mentioned were present; except the Comte de Mirabeau, whose occupations at that moment made it utterly impossible for him to attend. The duke opened the business in an appropriate manner; and concluded, by desiring each person to give his opinion frankly and unequivocally as to what might be expected of the National Assembly relative to the great measure of the abolition of the Slave Trade. The Abbé Siéyes rose up, and said it would probably bring the business within a shorter compass if, instead of discussing this proposition at large, I were to put to the meeting my own questions. I accordingly accepted this offer, and began by asking those present "how long it was likely that the present National Assembly would sit?" After some conversation, it was replied that "it would sit till it had completed the constitution, and interwoven such fixed principles into it, that the legislature which should succeed it might have nothing more to do than to proceed on the ordinary business of the state. Its dissolution would probably not take place till the month of March." I then asked them, "whether it was their opinion that the National Assembly would feel itself authorized to take up such a foreign question (if I might be allowed the expression) as that of the abolition of the Slave Trade." The answer to this was, "that the object of the National Assembly was undoubtedly the formation of a constitution for the French people. With respect to foreign possessions, it was very doubtful whether it were the real interest of France to have any colonies at all; but while it kept such colonies under its dominion, the assembly would feel that it had the right to take up this question; and that the question itself would naturally spring out of the bill of rights, which had already been adopted as the basis of the constitution." The next question I proposed was, "whether they were of opinion that the National Assembly would do more wisely, in the present situation of things, to determine upon the abolition of the Slave Trade now, or to transfer it to the legislature, which was to succeed it in the month of March." This question gave birth to a long discussion, during which much eloquence was displayed; but the unanimous answer, with the reasons for it, may be conveyed in substance as follows:--"It would be most wise," it was said, "in the present Assembly, to introduce the question to the notice of the nation, and this as essentially connected with the bill of rights, but to transfer the determination of it, in a way the best calculated to ensure success, to the succeeding legislature. The revolution was of more importance to Frenchmen than the abolition of the Slave Trade. To secure this was their first object, and more particularly because the other would naturally flow from it; but the revolution might be injured by the immediate determination of the question. Many persons in the large towns of Bourdeaux, Marseilles, Rouen, Nantes, and Havre, who were now friends to it, might be converted into enemies. It would also be held up by those who wished to produce a counter-revolution, (and the ignorant and prejudiced might believe it,) that the Assembly had made a great sacrifice to England by thus giving her an opportunity of enlarging her trade. The English House of Commons had taken up the subject, but had done nothing; and though they, who were then present, were convinced of the sincerity of the English minister who had introduced it, and that the trade must ultimately fall in England, yet it would not be easy to persuade many bigoted persons in France of these truths. It would, therefore, be most wise in the Assembly only to introduce the subject as mentioned; but if extraordinary circumstances should arise, such as a decree that the deputies of Colour should take their seats in the Assembly, or that England should have begun this great work, advantage might be taken of them, and the abolition of the Slave Trade might be resolved upon in the present session." The last question I proposed was this:--"If the determination of this great question should be proposed to the next legislature, would it be more difficult to carry it then than now?" This question also produced much conversation; but the answer was unanimous, "that there would be no greater difficulty in the one than in the other case; for that the people would daily more and more admire their constitution; that this constitution would go down to the next legislature, from whence would issue solid and fixed principles, which would be resorted to as a standard for decision on all occasions. Hence the Slave Trade, which would be adjudged by it also, could not possibly stand. Add to which, that the most virtuous members in the present would be chosen into the new legislature, which, if the constitution were but once fairly established, would not regard the murmurs of any town or province." After this a desultory conversation took place, in which some were of opinion that it would be proper, on the introduction of the subject into the Assembly, to move for a committee of inquiry, which should collect facts and documents against the time when it should be taken up with a view to its final discussion. As it now appeared to me that nothing material would be done with respect to our cause till after the election of the new legislature, I had thoughts of returning to England to resume my journey in quest of evidence; but I judged it right to communicate first with the Comte de Mirabeau and the Marquis de la Fayette, both of whom would have attended the meeting just mentioned, if unforeseen circumstances had not prevented them. On conversing with the first, I found that he differed from those whom I had consulted. He thought that the question, on account of the nature and urgency of it, ought to be decided in the present legislature. This was so much his opinion, that he had made a determination to introduce it there himself; and had been preparing for his motion. He had already drawn up the outlines of a speech for the purpose; but was in want of circumstantial knowledge to complete it. With this knowledge he desired me to furnish him. He then put his speech into my hand, and wished me to take it home and peruse it. He wrote down, also, some questions, and he gave them to me directly afterwards, and begged I would answer them at my leisure. On conversing with the latter, he said, "that he believed with those of the meeting that there would be no greater difficulty in carrying the question in the succeeding than in the present legislature; but this consideration afforded an argument for the immediate discussion of it; for it would make a considerable difference to suffering humanity whether it were to be decided now or then. This was the moment to be taken to introduce it; nor did he think that they ought to be deterred from doing it by any supposed clamours from some of the towns in France. The great body of the people admired the constitution, and would support any decisions which were made in strict conformity to its principles. With respect to any committee of inquiry, he deprecated it. The Slave Trade, he said, was not a trade. It dishonoured the name of commerce. It was piracy. But if so, the question which it involved was a question of justice only; and it could not be decided, with propriety by any other standard." I then informed him that the Comte de Mirabeau had undertaken to introduce it into the Assembly. At this he expressed his uneasiness. "Mirabeau," says he, "is a host in himself; and I should not be surprised if by his own eloquence and popularity only he were to carry it; and yet I regret that he has taken the lead in it. The cause is so lovely that even ambition, abstractedly considered, is too impure to take it under its protection, and not to sully it. It should have been placed in the hands of the most virtuous man in France. This man is the Duc de la Rochefoucauld. But you cannot alter things now. You cannot take it out of his hands. I am sure he will be second to no one on this occasion." On my return to my hotel, I perused the outlines of the speech which the Comte de Mirabeau had lent me. It afforded a masterly knowledge of the evils of the trade, as drawn from reason only. It was put together in the most striking and affecting manner. It contained an almost irresistible appeal to his auditors by frequent references to the ancient system of things in France, and to their situation and prospects under the new. It flowed at first gently like a river in a level country; but it grew afterwards into a mountain-torrent, and carried everything before it. On looking at the questions which he had written down for me, I found them consist of three. 1. What are the different ways of reducing to slavery the inhabitants of that part of Africa which is under the dominion of France? 2. What is the state of society there with respect to government, industry, and the arts? 3. What are the various evils belonging to the transportation of the Africans from their own country? It was peculiarly agreeable to me to find, on reading the first two questions, that I had formed an acquaintance with Monsieur Geoffroy de Villeneuve, who had been aide-du-camp to the Chevalier de Boufflers at Goree; but who was then at his father's house in Paris. This gentleman had entertained Dr. Spaarman and Mr. Wadstrom; and had accompanied them up the Senegal, when under the protection of the French government in Africa. He had confirmed to me the testimony which they had given before the privy council: but he had a fund of information on this subject, which went far beyond what these possessed, or I had ever yet collected from books or men. He had travelled all over the kingdom of Cayor on foot; and had made a map of it. His information was so important, that I had been with him for almost days together to take it down. I determined, therefore, to arrange the facts which I had obtained from him, of which I had now a volume, that I might answer the two first questions, which had been proposed to me; for it was of great importance to the Comte de Mirabeau, that he should be able to appeal, in behalf of the statements in his speech to the Assembly, to an evidence on the spot. In the course of my correspondence with the Comte, which continued with but little intermission for six weeks, many circumstances took place, which were connected with the cause, and which I shall now detail in their order. On waiting upon Mr. Necker, at his own request, he gave me the pleasing intelligence, that the committee of finances, which was then composed of members of the National Assembly, had resolved, though they had not yet promulgated their resolution, upon a total abolition of all the bounties then in existence in favour of the Slave Trade. The Deputies of Colour now began to visit me at my own hotel. They informed me, that they had been admitted, since they had seen me, into the National Assembly. On stating their claims, the president assured them, that they might take courage; for that the assembly knew no distinction between Blacks and Whites, but considered all men as having equal rights. This speech of the president, they said, had roused all the White Colonists in Paris. Some of these had openly insulted them. They had held also a meeting on the subject of this speech; at which they had worked themselves up so as to become quite furious. Nothing but intrigue was now going forward among them to put off the consideration of the claims of the free People of Colour. They, the deputies, had been flattered by the prospect of a hearing no less than six times; and, when the day arrived, something had constantly occurred to prevent it. At a subsequent interview, they appeared to be quite disheartened; and to be grievously disappointed as to the object of their mission. They were now sure, that they should never be able to make head against the intrigues and plots of the White Colonists. Day after day had been fixed as before for the hearing of their cause. Day after day it had been deferred in like manner. They were now weary with waiting. One of them, Ogé, could not contain himself, but broke out with great warmth--"I begin," says he, "not to care whether the National Assembly will admit us or not. But let it beware of the consequences. We will no longer continue to be beheld in a degraded light. Dispatches shall go directly to St. Domingo; and we will soon follow them. We can produce as good soldiers on our estates, as those in France. Our own arms shall make us independent and respectable. If we are once forced to desperate measures, it will be in vain that thousands will be sent across the Atlantic to bring us back to our former state." On hearing this, I entreated the deputies, to wait with patience. I observed to them, that in a great revolution, like that of France, things, but more particularly such as might be thought external, could not be discussed either so soon or so rapidly as men full of enthusiasm would wish. France would first take care of herself. She would then, I had no doubt, extend her care to her Colonies. Was not this a reasonable conclusion, when they, the deputies, had almost all the first men in the Assembly in their favour? I entreated them therefore to wait patiently; as well as upon another consideration, which was, that by an imprudent conduct they might not only ruin their own cause in France, but bring indescribable misery upon their native land. By this time a large packet, for which I had sent, from England arrived. It consisted of above a thousand of the plan and section of a slave-ship, with an explanation in French. It contained, also, about five hundred coloured engravings, made from two views, which Mr. Wadstrom had taken in Africa. The first of these represented the town of Joal, and the king's military on horseback returning to it, after having executed the great pillage, with their slaves. The other represented the village of Bain; from whence ruffians were forcing a poor woman and her children to sell them to a ship, which was then lying in the Roads. Both these scenes Mr. Wadstrom had witnessed. I had collected, also, by this time, one thousand of my Essays on the _Impolicy of the Slave Trade_, which had been translated into the French language. These I now wished to distribute, as preparatory to the motion of Mirabeau, among the National Assembly. This distribution was afterwards undertaken and effected by the Archbishop of Aix, the Bishop of Chartres, the Marquis de la Fayette, the Duc de la Rochefoucauld, the Comte de Mirabeau, Monsieur Necker, the Marquis de Condorcet, Messieurs Pétion de Villeneuve, Bergasse, Clavière and Brissot, and by the Marchioness de la Fayette, Madame Necker, and Madame de Poivre, the latter of whom was the widow of the late intendant of the Isle of France. This distribution had not been long begun, before I witnessed its effects. The virtuous Abbé Gregoire, and several members of the National Assembly, called upon me. The section of the slave-ship, it appeared, had been the means of drawing them towards me. They wished for more accurate information concerning it. Indeed, it made its impression upon all who saw it. The Bishop of Chartres once told me, that, when he first espoused our cause, he did it at once; for it seemed obvious to him that no one could, under the Christian dispensation, hold another as his slave; and it was no less obvious, where such an unnatural state existed, that there would be great abuses; but that, nevertheless, he had not given credit to all the tales which had been related of the Slave Trade, till he had seen this plate; after which there was nothing so barbarous which might not readily be believed. The Archbishop of Aix, when I first showed him the same plate, was so struck with horror, that he could scarcely speak: and when Mirabeau first saw it, he was so impressed by it, that he ordered a mechanic to make a model of it in wood, at a considerable expense. This model he kept afterwards in his dining-room. It was a ship in miniature, about a yard long, and little wooden men and women, which were painted black to represent the slaves, were seen stowed in their proper places. But while the distribution of these different articles thus contributed to make us many friends, it called forth the extraordinary exertions of our enemies. The merchants and others interested in the continuance of the Slave Trade wrote letters to the Archbishop of Aix, beseeching him not to ruin France; which he would inevitably do, if, as then president, he were to grant a day for hearing the question of the abolition. Offers of money were made to Mirabeau from the same quarter, if he would totally abandon his motion. An attempt was made to establish a colonial committee, consisting of such planters as were members of the National Assembly, upon whom it should devolve to consider and report upon all matters relating to the Colonies, before they could be determined there. Books were circulated in abundance in opposition to mine. Resort was again had to the public papers, as the means of raising a hue and cry against the principles of the Friends of the Negroes. I was again denounced as a spy; and as one sent by the English minister to bribe members in the Assembly to do that in a time of public agitation, which in the settled state of France they could never have been prevailed upon to accomplish. And as a proof that this was my errand, it was requested of every Frenchman to put to himself the following question, "How it happened that England, which had considered the subject coolly and deliberately for eighteen months, and this in a state of internal peace and quietness, had not abolished the Slave Trade?" The clamour which was now made against the abolition pervaded all Paris, and reached the ears of the king; Mr. Necker had a long conversation with him upon it; the latter sent for me immediately. He informed me that His Majesty was desirous of making himself master of the question, and had expressed a wish to see my _Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave Trade_; he desired to have two copies of it, one in French, and the other in English, and he would then take his choice as to which of them he would read; he (Mr. Necker) was to present them. He would take with him, also, at the same time, the beautiful specimens of the manufactures of the Africans, which I had lent to Madame Necker out of the cabinet of Monsieur Geoffroy de Villeneuve and others; as to the section of the slave-ship, he thought it would affect His Majesty too much, as he was then indisposed. All these articles, except the latter, were at length presented; the king bestowed a good deal of time upon the specimens; he admired them, but particularly those in gold. He expressed his surprise at the state of some of the arts in Africa. He sent them back on the same day on which he had examined them, and commissioned Mr. Necker to return me his thanks, and to say that he had been highly gratified with what he had seen; and with respect to the _Essay on the Impolicy of the Slave Trade_, that he would read it with all the seriousness which such a subject deserved. My correspondence with the Comte de Mirabeau was now drawing near to its close. I had sent him a letter every other day for a whole month, which contained from sixteen to twenty pages; he usually acknowledged the receipt of each; hence many of his letters came into my possession: these were always interesting, on account of the richness of the expressions they contained. Mirabeau even in his ordinary discourse was eloquent; it was his peculiar talent to use such words, that they who heard them were almost led to believe that he had taken great pains to cull them for the occasion. But this his ordinary language was the language also of his letters; and as they show a power of expression, by which the reader may judge of the character of the eloquence of one, who was then undoubtedly the greatest orator in France, I have thought it not improper to submit one of them to his perusal in the annexed note[A]. I could have wished, as far as it relates to myself, that it had been less complimentary. It must be observed, however, that I had already written to him more than two hundred pages with my own hand; and as this was done at no small expense, time, and trouble, and solely to qualify him for the office of doing good, he could not but set some value upon my labours. [Footnote A: Je fais toujours mille remercimens plus empressés et plus affectueux à Monsieur Clarkson pour la vertueuse profusion de ses lumières, de ses recherches, et de ses travaux. Comme ma motion, et tous ses développemens sont entièrement prêts, j'attends avec une vive impatience ses nouvelles lettres, afin d'achever de classer les faits et les raisonnemens de Monsieur Clarkson, et, cette déduction entièrement finie, de commencer à manoeuvrer en tactique le succès douteux de cette périlleuse proposition. J'aurai l'honneur de le recevoir Dimanche depuis onze heures, et même dix du matin jusqu'à midi, non seulement avec un vif plaisir, mais avec une sensible reconnaissance. 25_th__Décembre_, 1789.] When our correspondence was over, I had some conversation with him relative to fixing a day for the motion. But he judged it prudent, previously to this, to sound some of the members of the Assembly on the subject of it. This he did, but he was greatly disappointed at the result; there was not one member, out of all those with whom he conversed, who had not been canvassed by the planters' committee; and though most of them had been proof against all its intrigues and artifices, yet many of them hesitated respecting the abolition at that moment. There was a fear in some that they should injure the revolution by adopting it; others, who had no such fears, wished for the concurrence of England in the measure, and suggested the propriety of a deputation there for that purpose previously to the discussion of the question in France. While others maintained that, as England had done nothing, after having had it so long under consideration, it was fair to presume that she judged it impolitic to abandon the Slave Trade; but if France were to give it up, and England to continue it, how would humanity be the gainer? While the Comte de Mirabeau was continuing his canvass among the members of the National Assembly, relative to his motion, attempts were again made in the public papers to mislead them; emancipation was now stated to be the object of the friends of the negroes. This charge I repelled, by addressing myself to Monsieur Beauvet. I explained to him the views of the different societies which had taken up the cause of the Africans; and I desired him to show my letter to the planters. I was obliged also to answer publicly a letter by Monsieur Mosneron de Laung. This writer professed to detail the substance of the privy council report. He had the injustice to assert that three things had been distinctly proved there: First, that slavery had always existed in Africa; Secondly, that the natives were a bloody people, addicted to human sacrifice, and other barbarous customs; and, Thirdly, that their soil was incapable of producing any proper articles for commerce. From these premises he argued, as if they had been established by the unanimous and uncontradicted testimony of the witnesses; and he drew the conclusion, that not only had England done nothing in consequence, but that she never would do anything which should affect the existence of this trade. But these letters had only just made their appearance in the public papers, when I was summoned to England; parliament, it appeared, had met, and I was immediately to leave Paris. Among those of whom I had but just time to take leave, were the deputies of colour. At this, my last conference with them, I recommended moderation and forbearance, as the best gifts I could leave them; and I entreated them rather to give up their seats in the Assembly, than on that account to bring misery on their country; for that with patience their cause would ultimately triumph. They replied, that I had prescribed to them a most difficult task; they were afraid that neither the conduct of the white colonists nor of the National Assembly could be much longer borne; they thanked me, however, for my advice. One of them gave me a trinket, by which I might remember him; and as for himself, he said he should never forget one, who had taken such a deep interest in the welfare of his mother[A]. I found, however, notwithstanding all I said, that there was a spirit of dissatisfaction in them, which nothing but a redress of their grievances could subdue; and that, if the planters should persevere in their intrigues, and the National Assembly in delay, a fire would be lighted up in St. Domingo, which could not easily be extinguished. This was afterwards realized: for Ogé, in about three months from this time, left his companions, to report to his constituents in St. Domingo the state of their mission; when hearing, on his arrival in that island, of the outrageous conduct of the whites of the committee of Aquin, who had begun a persecution of the people of colour, for no other reason than that they had dared to seek the common privileges of citizens, and of the murder of Ferrand and Labadie, he imprudently armed his slaves. With a small but faithful band he rushed upon superior numbers, and was defeated; taking refuge at length in the Spanish part of St. Domingo, he was given up, and his enemies, to strike terror into the people of colour, broke him upon the wheel. From this time reconciliation between the parties became impossible; a bloody war commenced, and with it all those horrors which it has been our lot so frequently to deplore. It must be remembered, however, that the Slave Trade, by means of the cruel distinctions it occasioned, was the original cause; and though the revolution of France afforded the occasion, it was an occasion which would have been prevented, if it had not been for the intrigues and injustice of the whites. [Footnote A: Africa.] Another upon whom I had time to call was the amiable bishop of Chartres. When I left him, the Abbé Siéyes, who was with him, desired to walk with me to my hotel; he there presented me with a set of his works, which he sent for while he staid with me; and, on parting, he made use of this complimentary expression, in allusion, I suppose, to the cause I had undertaken,--"I am pleased to have been acquainted with the friend of man." It was necessary that I should see the Comte de Mirabeau and the Marquis de la Fayette before I left Paris, I had written to each of them to communicate the intelligence of my departure, as soon as I received it. The comte, it appeared had nearly canvassed the Assembly; he could count upon three hundred members, who, for the sake of justice, and without any consideration of policy or of consequences, would support his motion. But alas! what proportion did this number bear to twelve hundred! About five hundred more would support him, but only on one condition, which was, if England would give an unequivocal proof of her intention to abolish the trade. The knowledge of these circumstances, he said, had induced him to write a letter to Mr. Pitt. In this he had explained how far he could proceed without his assistance, and how far with it. He had frankly developed to him the mind and temper of the Assembly on this subject; but his answer must be immediate, for the white colonists were daily gaining such an influence there, that he forsaw that it would be impossible to carry the measure, if it were long delayed. On taking leave of him he desired me to be the bearer of the letter, and to present it to Mr. Pitt. On conversing with the Marquis de la Fayette, he lamented deeply the unexpected turn which the cause of the Negroes had lately taken in the Assembly. It was entirely owing to the daily intrigues of the White Colonists. He feared they would ruin everything. If the Deputies of Colour had been heard on their arrival, their rights would have been acknowledged. But now there was little probability that they would obtain them. He foresaw nothing but desolation in St. Domingo. With respect to the abolition of the Slave Trade, it might be yet carried; but not unless England would concur in the measure. On this topic he enlarged with much feeling. He hoped the day was near at hand, when two great nations, which had been hitherto distinguished only for their hostility, one toward the other, would unite in so sublime a measure; and that they would follow up their union by another, still more lovely, for the preservation of eternal and universal peace. Thus their future rivalships might have the extraordinary merit of being rivalships in good. Thus the revolution of France, through the mighty aid of England, might become the source of civilization, of freedom, and of happiness to the whole world. No other nations were sufficiently enlightened for such an union, but all other nations might be benefited by it. The last person whom I saw was Brissot. He accompanied me to my carriage. With him, therefore, I shall end my French account; and I shall end it in no way so satisfactory to myself, as in a very concise vindication of his character, from actual knowledge, against the attacks of those who have endeavoured to disparage it; but who never knew him. Justice and truth, I am convinced, demand some little declaration on this subject at my hands. Brissot then was a man of plain and modest appearance. His habits, contrary to those of his countrymen in general, were domestic. In his own family he set an amiable example, both as a husband and as a father. On all occasions he was a faithful friend. He was particularly watchful over his private conduct. From the simplicity of his appearance, and the severity of his morals, he was called "The Quaker;" at least in all the circles which I frequented. He was a man of deep feeling. He was charitable to the poor as far as a slender income permitted him. But his benevolence went beyond the usual bounds. He was no patriot in the ordinary acceptation of the word; for he took the habitable globe as his country and wished to consider every foreigner as his brother. I left France, as it may be easily imagined, much disappointed, that my labours, which had been of nearly six months continuance, should have had no better success; nor did I see, in looking forward, any circumstances that were consoling with respect to the issue of them there; for it was impossible that Mr. Pitt, even if he had been inclined to write to Mirabeau, circumstanced as matters then were with respect to the hearing of evidence, could have given him a promise, at least of a speedy abolition; and, unless his answer had been immediate, it would have arrived, seeing that the French planters were daily profiting by their intrigues, too late to be effectual. I had but just arrived in England, when Mr. Wilberforce made a new motion in the House of Commons on the subject of the Slave Trade. In referring to the transactions of the last session, he found that twenty-eight days had been allotted to the hearing of witnesses against the abolition, and that eleven persons only had been examined in that time. If the examinations were to go on in the same manner, they might be made to last for years. He resolved, therefore, to move, that, instead of hearing evidence in future in the house at large, members should hear it in an open committee above stairs; which committee should sit notwithstanding any adjournment of the house itself. This motion he made; and in doing it he took an opportunity of correcting an erroneous report; which was, that he had changed his mind on this great subject. This was, he said, so far from being the case, that the more he contemplated the trade, the more enormous he found it, and the more he felt himself compelled to persevere in endeavours for its abolition. One would have thought that a motion, so reasonable and so constitutional, would have met with the approbation of all; but it was vehemently opposed by Mr. Gascoyne, Alderman Newnham, and others. The plea set up was, that there was no precedent for referring a question of such importance to a committee. It was now obvious, that the real object of our opponents in abandoning decision by the privy council evidence was delay. Unable to meet us there, they were glad to fly to any measure, which should enable them to put off the evil day. This charge was fixed upon them in unequivocal language by Mr. Fox; who observed besides, that if the members of the house should then resolve to hear evidence in a committee of the whole house as before, it would amount to a resolution, that the question of the abolition of the Slave Trade should be put by, or at least that it should never be decided by them. After a long debate, the motion of Mr. Wilberforce was voted without a division; and the examination of witnesses proceeded in behalf of those who were interested in the continuance of the trade. This measure having been resolved upon, by which despatch in the examinations was promoted, I was alarmed lest we should be called upon for our own evidence, before we were fully prepared. The time which I had originally allotted for the discovery of new witnesses, had been taken up, if not wasted, in France. In looking over the names of the sixteen, who were to have been examined by the committee of privy council, if there had been time, one had died, and eight, who were sea-faring people, were out of the kingdom. It was time, therefore, to stir immediately in this business. Happily, on looking over my letters, which I found on my arrival in England, the names of several had been handed to me, with the places of their abode, who could give me information on the subject of our question. All these I visited with the utmost despatch. I was absent only three weeks. I had travelled a thousand miles in this time, had conversed with seventeen persons, and had prevailed upon three to be examined. I had scarcely returned with the addition of these witnesses to my list, when I found it necessary to go out again upon the same errand. This second journey arose in part from the following circumstances. There was a matter in dispute relative to the mode of obtaining slaves in the rivers of Calabar and Bonny. It was usual, when the slave-ships lay there, for a number of canoes to go into the inland country. These went in a fleet. There might be from thirty to forty armed natives in each of them. Every canoe, also, had a four or a six-pounder (cannon) fastened to her bow. Equipped in this manner they departed; and they were usually absent from eight to fourteen days. It was said that they went to fairs, which were held on the banks of these rivers, and at which there was a regular show of slaves. On their return they usually brought down from eight hundred to a thousand of these for the ships. These lay at the bottom of the canoes; their arms and legs having been first bound by the ropes of the country. Now the question was, how the people, thus going up these rivers, obtained their slaves? It was certainly a very suspicious circumstance, that such a number of persons should go out upon these occasions; and that they should be armed in such a manner. We presumed, therefore, that, though they might buy many of the slaves, whom they brought down, at the fairs which have been mentioned, they obtained others by violence, as opportunity offered. This inference we pressed upon our opponents, and called upon them to show what circumstances made such warlike preparations necessary on these excursions. To this they replied readily, "The people in the canoes," said they, "pass through the territories of different petty princes; to each of whom, on entering his territory, they pay a tribute or toll. This tribute has been long fixed; but attempts frequently have been made to raise it. They who follow the trade cannot afford to submit to these unreasonable demands; and therefore they arm themselves in case of any determination on the part of these petty princes to enforce them." This answer we never judged to be satisfactory. We tried therefore, to throw light upon the subject, by inquiring if the natives who went upon these expeditions usually took with them as many goods as would amount to the number of the slaves they were accustomed to bring back with them. But we could get no direct answer, from any actual knowledge, to this question. All had seen the canoes go out and return; but no one had seen them loaded, or had been on board them. It appeared, however, from circumstantial evidence, that though the natives on these occasions might take some articles of trade with them, it was impossible from appearances that they could take them in the proportion mentioned. We maintained, then, our inference as before; but it was still uniformly denied. How then were we to decide this important question? for it was said that no white man was ever permitted by the natives to go up in these canoes. On mentioning accidentally the circumstances of the case, as I have now stated them, to a friend, immediately on my return from my last journey, he informed me that he himself had been in company, about a year before, with a sailor, a very respectable-looking man, who had been up these rivers. He had spent half an hour with him at an inn. He described his person to me; but he knew nothing of his name, or of the place of his abode. All he knew was, that he was either going, or that he belonged to, some ship of war in ordinary; but he could not tell at what port. I might depend upon all these circumstances if the man had not deceived him; and he saw no reason why he should. I felt myself set on fire, as it were, by this intelligence, deficient as it was; and I seemed to determine instantly that I would, if it were possible, find him out. For if our suspicions were true that the natives frequently were kidnapped in these expeditions, it would be of great importance to the cause of the abolition to have them confirmed; for as many slaves came annually from these two rivers, as from all the coast of Africa besides. But how to proceed on so blind an errand was the question. I first thought of trying to trace the man by letter; but this might be tedious. The examinations were now going on rapidly. We should soon be called upon for evidence ourselves; besides, I knew nothing of his name. I then thought it to be a more effectual way to apply to Sir Charles Middleton, as comptroller of the navy, by whose permission I could board every ship of war in ordinary in England, and judge for myself. But here the undertaking seemed very arduous, and the time it would consume became an objection in this respect, that I thought I could not easily forgive myself, if I were to fail in it. My inclination, however, preponderated this way. At length I determined to follow it; for, on deliberate consideration, I found that I could not employ my time more advantageously to the cause; for as other witnesses must be found out somewhere, it was highly probable that, if I should fail in the discovery of this man, I should, by moving among such a number of sea-faring people, find others who could give their testimony in our favour. I must now inform the reader, that ships of war in ordinary, in one of which this man was reported to be, are those which are out of commission, and which are laid up in the different rivers and waters in the neighbourhood of the king's dock-yards. Every one of these has a boatswain, gunner, carpenter, and assistants on board. They lie usually in divisions of ten or twelve; and a master in the navy has a command over every division. At length I began my journey. I boarded all the ships of war lying in ordinary at Deptford, and examined the different persons in each. From Deptford I proceeded to Woolwich, where I did the same. Thence I hastened to Chatham, and then, down the Medway, to Sheerness. I had now boarded above a hundred and sixty vessels of war. I had found out two good and willing evidences among them; but I could gain no intelligence of him who was the object of my search. From Chatham I made the best of my way to Portsmouth harbour. A very formidable task presented itself here; but the masters' boats were ready for me, and I continued my pursuit. On boarding the Pegase, on the second day, I discovered a very respectable person in the gunner of that ship. His name was George Millar. He had been on board the Canterbury slaveship at the dreadful massacre at Calabar. He was the only disinterested evidence living, of whom I had yet heard. He expressed his willingness to give, his testimony, if his presence should be thought necessary in London. I then continued my pursuit for the remainder of the day. On the next day I resumed and finished it for this quarter. I had now examined the different persons in more than a hundred vessels in this harbour, but I had not discovered the person I had gone to seek. Matters now began to look rather disheartening, I mean as far as my grand object was concerned. There was but one other port left, and this was between two and three hundred miles distant. I determined, however, to go to Plymouth. I had already been more successful in this tour, with respect to obtaining general evidences than in any other of the same length; and the probability was, that as I should continue to move among the same kind of people, my success would be in a similar proportion according to the number visited. These were great encouragements to me to proceed. At length I arrived at the place of my last hope. On my first day's expedition I boarded forty vessels, but found no one in these who had been on the coast of Africa in the Slave Trade. One or two had been there in king's ships; but they had never been on shore. Things were now drawing near to a close; and, notwithstanding my success as to general evidence in this journey, my heart began to beat. I was restless and uneasy during the night. The next morning I felt agitated again between the alternate pressure of hope and fear; and in this state I entered my boat. The fifty-seventh vessel, which I boarded in this harbour was the Melampus frigate. One person belonging to it, on examining him in the captain's cabin, said he had been two voyages to Africa; and I had not long discoursed with him before I found, to my inexpressible joy, that he was the man. I found, too, that he unravelled the question in dispute precisely as our inferences had determined it. He had been two expeditions up the river Calabar in the canoes of the natives. In the first of these, they came within a certain distance of a village. They then concealed themselves under the bushes, which hung over the water from the banks. In this position they remained during day-light; but at night they went up to it armed, and seized all the inhabitants, who had not time to make their escape. They obtained forty-five persons in this manner. In the second, they were out eight or nine days, when they made a similar attempt, and with nearly similar success. They seized men, women, and children, as they could find them in the huts. They then bound their arms, and drove them before them to the canoes. The name of the person, thus discovered on board the Melampus, was Isaac Parker. On inquiring into his character from the master of the division, I found it highly respectable. I found, also, afterwards, that he had sailed with Captain Cook, with great credit to himself, round the world. It was also remarkable that my brother, on seeing him in London, when he went to deliver his evidence, recognised him as having served on board the Monarch man-of-war, and as one of the most exemplary men in that ship. I returned now in triumph. I had been out only three weeks, and I had found out this extraordinary person, and five respectable witnesses besides. These, added to the three discovered in the last journey, and to those provided before, made us more formidable than at any former period; so that the delay of our opponents, which we had looked upon as so great an evil, proved in the end truly serviceable to our cause. On going into the committee-room of the House of Commons on my return, I found that the examinations were still going on in the behalf of those who were interested in the continuance of the trade; and they went on beyond the middle of April, when it was considered that they had closed. Mr. Wilberforce moved accordingly, on the 23rd of the same month, that Captain Thomas Wilson, of the royal navy, and that Charles Berns Wadstrom and Henry Hew Dalrymple, Esqrs., do attend as witnesses on the behalf of the abolition. There was nothing now but clamour from those on the opposite side of the question. They knew well that there were but few members of the House of Commons, who had read the privy council report. They knew, therefore, that if the question were to be decided by evidence, it must be decided by that which their own witnesses had given before parliament. But this was the evidence only on one side. It was certain, therefore, if the decision were to be made upon this basis, that it must be entirely in their favour. Will it then be believed that in an English House of Commons there could be found persons, who could move to prevent the hearing of any other witnesses on this subject; and, what is more remarkable, that they should charge Mr. Wilberforce, because he proposed the hearing of them, with the intention solely of delay? Yes, such persons were found; but happily only among the friends of the Slave Trade. Mr. Wilberforce, in replying to them, could not help observing that it was rather extraordinary that they, who had occasioned the delay of a whole year, should charge him with that of which they themselves had been so conspicuously guilty. He then commented for some time on the injustice of their motion. He stated, too, that he would undertake to remove from disinterested and unprejudiced persons many of the impressions which had been made by the witnesses against the abolition; and he appealed to the justice and honour of the house in behalf of an injured people; under the hope that they would not allow a decision to be made till they had heard the whole of the case. These observations, however, did not satisfy all those who belonged to the opposite party. Lord Penrhyn contended for a decision without a moment's delay. Mr. Gascoyne relented; and said, he would allow three weeks to the abolitionists, during which their evidence might be heard. At length, the debate ended; in the course of which Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox powerfully supported Mr. Wilberforce; when the motion was negatived without any attempt at a division. The witnesses in behalf of the abolition of the Slave Trade now took possession of the ground which those in favour of it had left. But what was our surprise, when only three of them had been heard, to find that Mr. Norris should come forward as an evidence! This he did to confirm what he had stated to the privy council as to the general question; but he did it more particularly, as it appeared afterwards, in the justification of his own conduct: for the part which he had taken at Liverpool, as it related to me, had become a subject of conversation with many. It was now well known what assistance he had given me there in my pursuit; how he had even furnished me with clauses for a bill, for the abolition of the trade; how I had written to him, in consequence of his friendly co-operation, to come up as an evidence in our favour; and how at that moment he had accepted the office of a delegate on the contrary side. The noise which the relation and repetition of these and other circumstances had made, had given him, I believe, considerable pain. His friends, too, had urged some explanation as necessary. But how short-sighted are they who do wrong! By coming forward in this imprudent manner, he fixed the stain only the more indelibly on himself; for he thus imposed upon me the cruel necessity of being examined against him; and this necessity was the more afflicting, to me, because I was to be called upon not to state facts relative to the trade, but to destroy his character as an evidence in its support. I was to be called upon, in fact, to explain all those communications which have been stated to have taken place between us on this subject. Glad indeed should I have been to have declined this painful interference. But no one would hear of a refusal. The Bishop of London, Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Wilberforce considered my appearance on this occasion as an imperious duty to the cause of the oppressed. It may be perhaps sufficient to say that I was examined; that Mr. Norris was present all the time; that I was cross-examined by counsel; and, that after this time, Mr. Norris seemed to have no ordinary sense of his own degradation; for he never afterwards held up his head or looked the abolitionists in the face, or acted with energy as a delegate, as on former occasions. The hearing of evidence continued to go on in behalf of the abolition of the trade. No less than twenty-four witnesses altogether were heard in this session. And here it may not be improper to remark, that during the examination of our own witnesses, as well as the cross-examination of those of our opponents, no counsel were ever employed. Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. William Smith undertook this laborious department; and as they performed it with great ability, so they did it with great liberality towards those who were obliged to come under their notice, in the course of this fiery ordeal. The bill of Sir William Dolben was now to be renewed. On this occasion the enemies of the abolition became again conspicuous; for on the 26th of May, they availed themselves of a thin house to propose an amendment, by which they increased the number of the slaves to the tonnage of the vessel. They increased it, too, without taking into the account, as had hitherto been done, the extent of the superficies of the vessels which were to carry them. This was the third indecorous attempt against what were only reasonable and expected proceedings in the present session. But their advantage was of no great duration; for the very next day, the amendment was rejected on the report by a majority of ninety-five to sixty-nine, in consequence, principally, of the private exertions of Mr. Pitt. Of this bill, though it was renewed in other years besides the present, I shall say no more in this _History_; because it has nothing to do with the general question. Horrible as it yet left the situation of the poor slaves in their transportation, (which the plate has most abundantly shown,) it was the best bill which could be then obtained; and it answered to a certain degree the benevolent wishes of the worthy baronet who introduced it: for if we could conclude, that these voyages were made more comfortable to the injured Africans, in proportion as there was less mortality in them, he had undoubtedly the pleasure of seeing the end, at least partially, obtained; though he must always have felt a great drawback from it, by reflecting that the survivors, however their sufferings might have been a little diminished, were reserved for slavery. The session was now near its close; and we had the sorrow to find, though we had defeated our opponents in the three instances which have been mentioned, that the tide ran decidedly against us, upon the general question, in the House of Commons. The same statements which had struck so many members with panic in the former sessions, such as that of emancipation, of the ruin and massacre of the planters, and of indemnification to the amount of seventy millions, had been industriously kept up, and this by a personal canvass among them. But this hostile disposition was still unfortunately increased by considerations of another sort. For the witnesses of our opponents had taken their ground first. No less than eleven of them had been examined in the last sessions. In the present, two-thirds of the time had been occupied by others on the same side. Hence the impression upon this ground also was against us; and we had yet had no adequate opportunity of doing it away. A clamour was also raised, where we thought it least likely to have originated. They (the planters), it was said, had produced persons in elevated life, and of the highest character, as witnesses; whereas we had been obliged to take up with those of the lowest condition. This idea was circulated directly after the introduction of Isaac Parker, before mentioned, a simple mariner, and who was now contrasted with the admirals on the other side of the question. This outcry was not only ungenerous, but unconstitutional. It is the glory of the English law, that it has no scale of veracity which it adapts to persons, according to the station which they may be found to occupy in life. In our courts of law, the poor are heard as well as the rich; and if their reputation be fair, and they stand proof against the cross-examinations they undergo, both the judge and the jury must determine the matter in dispute by their evidence. But the House of Commons was now called upon by our opponents, to adopt the preposterous maxim of attaching falsehood to poverty, or of weighing truth by the standard of rank and riches. But though we felt a considerable degree of pain in finding this adverse disposition among so many members of the Lower House, it was some consolation to us to know that our cause had not suffered with their constituents,--the people. These were still warmly with us. Indeed, their hatred of the trade had greatly increased. Many circumstances had occurred in this year to promote it. The committee, during my absence in France, had circulated the plate of the slave-ship throughout all England. No one saw it but he was impressed. It spoke to him in a language which was at once intelligible and irresistible. It brought forth the tear of sympathy in behalf of the sufferers, and it fixed their sufferings in his heart. The committee, too, had been particularly vigilant during the whole of the year with respect to the public papers. They had suffered no statement in behalf of those interested in the continuance of the trade to go unanswered. Dr. Dickson, the author of the _Letters on Slavery_, before mentioned, had come forward again with his services on this occasion; and, by his active co-operation with a sub-committee appointed for the purpose, the coast was so well cleared of our opponents, that, though they were seen the next year again, through the medium of the same papers, they appeared only in sudden incursions, as it were, during which they darted a few weapons at us; but they never afterward ventured upon the plain to dispute the matter, inch by inch, or point by point, in an open and manly manner. But other circumstances occurred to keep up a hatred of the trade among the people in this interval, which, trivial as they were, ought not to be forgotten. The amiable poet Cowper had frequently made the Slave Trade the subject of his contemplation. He had already severely condemned it in his valuable poem _The Task_. But now he had written three little fugitive pieces upon it. Of these, the most impressive was that which he called _The Negro's Complaint_, and of which the following is a copy:-- Forced from home and all its pleasures, Afric's coast I left forlorn, To increase a stranger's treasures, O'er the raging billows borne; Men from England bought and sold me, Paid my price in paltry gold; But, though theirs they have enroll'd me, Minds are never to be sold. Still in thought as free as ever, What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever, Me to torture, me to task? Fleecy locks and black complexion Cannot forfeit Nature's claim; Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in black and white the same. Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant, for which we toil? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters, iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards, Think, how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords. Is there, as you sometimes tell us, Is there one, who rules on high; Has he bid you buy and sell us, Speaking from his throne, the sky? Ask him, if your knotted scourges, Fetters, blood-extorting screws, Are the means, which duty urges Agents of his will to use? Hark! he answers. Wild tornadoes, Strewing yonder sea with wrecks, Wasting towns, plantations, meadows, Are the voice with which he speaks. He, foreseeing what vexations Afric's sons should undergo, Fixed their tyrants' habitations Where his whirlwinds answer--No. By our blood in Afric wasted, Ere our necks received the chain; By the miseries, which we tasted Crossing, in your barks, the main; By our sufferings, since you brought us To the man-degrading mart, All-sustained by patience, taught us Only by a broken heart: Deem our nation brutes no longer, Till some reason you shall find Worthier of regard, and stronger, Than the colour of our kind. Slaves of gold! whose sordid dealings Tarnish all, your boasted powers, Prove that you have human feelings, Ere you proudly question ours. This little piece Cowper presented in manuscript to some of his friends in London; and these, conceiving it to contain a powerful appeal in behalf of the injured Africans, joined in printing it. Having ordered it on the finest hot-pressed paper, and folded it up in a small and neat form, they gave it the printed title of _A Subject for Conversation at the Tea-table_. After this, they sent many thousand copies of it in franks into the country. From one it spread to another, till it travelled almost over the whole island. Falling at length into the hands of the musician, it was set to music; and it then found its way into the streets, both of the metropolis and of the country, where it was sung as a ballad; and where it gave a plain account of the subject, with an appropriate feeling, to those who heard it. Nor was the philanthropy of the late Mr. Wedgewood less instrumental in turning the popular feeling in our favour. He made his own manufactory contribute to this end. He took the seal of the committee, as exhibited in Chap. XX., for his model; and he produced a beautiful cameo, of a less size, of which the ground was a most delicate white, but the Negro, who was seen imploring compassion in the middle of it, was in his own native colour. Mr. Wedgewood made a liberal donation of these, when finished, among his friends. I received from him no less than five hundred of them myself. They, to whom they were sent, did not lay them up in their cabinets, but gave them away likewise. They were soon, like _The Negro's Complaint_, in different parts of the kingdom. Some had them inlaid in gold on the lid of their snuff-boxes. Of the ladies, several wore them in bracelets, and others had them fitted up in an ornamental manner as pins for their hair. At length the taste for wearing them became general; and thus fashion, which usually confines itself to worthless things, was seen for once in the honourable office of promoting the cause of justice, humanity, and freedom. I shall now only state that the committee took as members within its own body, in the period of time which is included in this chapter, the Reverend Mr. Ormerod, chaplain to the Bishop of London, and Captain James Bowen, of the royal navy; that they elected the Honourable Nathaniel Curzon (afterwards Lord Scarsdale), Dr. Frossard, of Lyons, and Benjamin Garlike, Esq., then secretary to the English embassy at the Hague, honorary and corresponding members; and that they concluded their annual labours with a suitable report, in which they noticed the extraordinary efforts of our opponents to injure our cause in the following manner:--"In the progress of this business, a powerful combination of interest has been excited against us. The African trader, the planter, and the West India merchant, have united their forces to defend the fortress, in which their supposed treasures lie. Vague calculations and false alarms have been thrown out to the public, in order to show that the constitution, and even the existence, of this free and opulent nation depend on its depriving the inhabitants of a foreign country of those rights and of that liberty which we ourselves so highly and so justly prize. Surely, in the nature of things, and in the order of Providence, it cannot be so. England existed as a great nation long before the African commerce was known amongst us, and it is not to acts of injustice and violence that she owes her present rank in the scale of nations." CHAPTER XXVI. --Continuation from July, 1790, to July, 1791.--Author travels again throughout the kingdom; object of his journey.--Motion in the House of Commons to resume the hearing of evidence in favour of the abolition; list of all those examined on this side of the question; machinations of interested persons, and cruel circumstances of the times previously to the day of decision.--Motion at length made for stopping all further importation of Slaves from Africa; debates upon it; motion lost.--Resolutions of the committee for the Abolition of the Slave Trade.--Establishment of the Sierra Leone Company. It was a matter of deep affliction to us to think, that the crimes and sufferings inseparable from the Slave Trade were to be continued to another year. And yet it was our duty, in the present moment, to acquiesce in the postponement of the question. This postponement was not now for the purpose of delay, but of securing victory. The evidence, on the side of the abolition, was, at the end of the last session, but half finished. It was impossible, for the sake of Africa, that we could have then closed it. No other opportunity might offer in parliament for establishing an indelible record in her favour, if we were to neglect the present. It was our duty, therefore, even to wait to complete it, and to procure such a body of evidence, as should not only bear us out in the approaching contest, but such as, if we were to fail, would bear out our successors also. It was possible, indeed, if the inhabitants of our islands were to improve in civilization, that the poor slaves might experience gradually an improved treatment with it; and so far testimony now might not be testimony for ever; but it was utterly impossible, while the Slave Trade lasted, and the human passion continued to be the same, that there should be any change for the better in Africa; or that any modes, less barbarous, should come into use for procuring slaves. Evidence, therefore, if once collected on this subject, would be evidence for posterity. In the midst of these thoughts another journey occurred to me as necessary for this purpose; and I prayed, that I might have strength to perform it in the most effectual manner; and that I might be daily impressed, as I travelled along, with the stimulating thought, that the last hope for millions might possibly rest upon my own endeavours. The committee highly approved of this journey; Mr. Wilberforce saw the absolute necessity of it also, and had prepared a number of questions, with great ingenuity, to be put to such persons as might have information to communicate. These I added to those in the tables, which have been already mentioned, and they made together a valuable collection on the subject. This tour was the most vexatious of any I had yet undertaken; many still refused to come forward to be examined, and some on the most frivolous pretences, so that I was disgusted, as I journeyed on, to find how little men were disposed to make sacrifices for so great a cause. In one part of it I went over nearly two thousand miles, receiving repeated refusals; I had not secured one witness within this distance; this was truly disheartening. I was subject to the whims and caprice of those whom I solicited on these occasions[A]; to these I was obliged to accommodate myself. When at Edinburgh, a person who could have given me material information declined seeing me, though he really wished well to the cause; when I had returned southward as far as York, he changed his mind, and he would then see me; I went back that I might not lose him. When I arrived, he would give me only private information. Thus I travelled, backwards and forwards, four hundred miles to no purpose. At another place a circumstance almost similar happened, though with a different issue. I had been for two years writing about a person, whose testimony was important. I had passed once through the town in which he lived, but he would not then see me; I passed through it now, but no entreaties of his friends could make him alter his resolution. He was a man highly respectable as to situation in life, but of considerable vanity. I said therefore to my friend, on leaving the town, You may tell him that I expect to be at Nottingham in a few days, and though it be a hundred and fifty miles distant, I will even come back to see him if he will dine with me on my return. A letter from my friend announced to me, when at Nottingham, that his vanity had been so gratified by the thought of a person coming expressly to visit him from such a distance, that he would meet me according to my appointment; I went back; we dined together; he yielded to my request; I was now repaid, and I returned towards Nottingham in the night. These circumstances I mention, and I feel it right to mention them, that the reader may be properly impressed with the great difficulties we found in collecting a body of evidence in comparison with our opponents. They ought never to be forgotten; for if with the testimony, picked up as it were under all these disadvantages, we carried our object against those who had almost numberless witnesses to command, what must have been the merits of our cause! No person can indeed judge of the severe labour and trials in these journeys. In the present, I was out four months; I was almost over the whole island; I intersected it backwards and forwards both in the night and in the day; I travelled nearly seven thousand miles in this time, and I was able to count upon twenty new and willing evidences. Having now accomplished my object, Mr. Wilberforce moved on the 4th of February in the House of Commons, that a committee be appointed to examine further witnesses in behalf of the abolition of the Slave Trade, This motion was no sooner made, than Mr. Cawthorne rose, to our great surprise, to oppose it. He took upon himself to decide that the House had heard evidence enough. This indecent motion was not without its advocates. Mr. Wilberforce set forth the injustice of this attempt, and proved, that out of eighty-one days which had been given up to the hearing of evidence, the witnesses against the abolition had occupied no less than fifty-seven. He was strenuously supported by Mr. Burke, Mr. Martin, and other respectable members. At length the debate ended in favour of the original motion, and a committee was appointed accordingly. The examinations began again on February 7th, and continued till April 5th, when they were finally closed. In this, as in the former session, Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. William Smith principally conducted them; and indeed it was necessary that they should have been present at these times; for it is perhaps difficult to conceive the illiberal manner in which our witnesses were treated by those on the other side of the question. Men who had left the trade upon principle, and who had come forward, against their apparent interest, to serve the cause of humanity and justice, were looked upon as mercenaries and culprits, or as men of doubtful and suspicious character; they were brow-beaten; unhandsome questions were put to them; some were kept for four days under examination. It was however highly to their honour that they were found in no one instance to prevaricate, nor to waver as to the certainty of their facts. But this treatment, hard as it was for them to bear, was indeed good for the cause; for, coming thus pure out of the fire, they occasioned their own testimony, when read, to bear stronger marks of truth than that of the generality of our opponents; nor was it less superior when weighed by other considerations. For the witnesses, against the abolition were principally interested; they, who were not, had been hospitably received at the planters' tables. The evidence, too, which they delivered, was almost wholly negative. They had not seen such and such evils; but this was no proof that the evils did not exist. The witnesses, on the other hand, who came up in favour of the abolition, had no advantage in making their several assertions. In some instances they came up against their apparent interest, and, to my knowledge, suffered persecution for so doing. The evidence also which they delivered was of a positive nature. They gave an account of specific evils, which had come under their own eyes; these evils were never disproved; they stood therefore on a firm basis, as on a tablet of brass. Engraved there in affirmative characters, a few of them were of more value than all the negative and airy testimony which had been advanced on the other side of the question. That the public may judge, in some measure, of the respectability of the witnesses in favour of the abolition, and that they may know also to whom Africa is so much indebted for her deliverance, I shall subjoin their names in the three following lists. The first will contain those who were examined by the privy council only; the second those who were examined by the privy council and the House of Commons also; and the third those who were examined-by the House of Commons only. LIST I. LIST II. LIST III. The evidence having been delivered on both sides, and then printed, it was judged expedient by Mr. Wilberforce, seeing that it filled three folio volumes, to abridge it. This abridgement was made by the different friends of the cause. William Burgh, Esq., of York; Thomas Babington, Esq., of Rothley Temple; the Rev. Thomas Gisborne, of Yoxall Lodge; Mr. Campbell Haliburton, of Edinburgh; George Harrison, with one or two others of the committee, and myself, were employed upon it. The greater share, however, of the labour, fell upon Dr. Dickson. That no misrepresentation of any person's testimony might be made, Matthew Montagu, Esq., and the Honourable E.J. Elliott, members of Parliament, undertook to compare the abridged manuscripts with the original text, and to strike out or correct whatever they thought to be erroneous, and to insert whatever they thought to have been omitted. The committee for the abolition, when the work was finished, printed it at their own expense, Mr. Wilberforce then presented it to the House of Commons, as a faithful abridgement of the whole evidence. Having been received as such, under the guarantee of Mr. Montague and Mr. Elliott, the committee sent it to every individual member of that House. The book having been thus presented, and a day fixed for the final determination of the question, our feelings became almost insupportable; for we had the mortification to find, that our cause was going down in estimation, where it was then most important that it should have increased in favour. Our opponents had taken advantage of the long delay which the examination of evidence had occasioned, to prejudice the minds of many of the members of the House of Commons against us. The old arguments of emancipation, massacre, ruin, and indemnification, had been kept up; but, as the day of final decision approached, they had been increased. Such was our situation at this moment, when the current was turned still more powerfully against us by the peculiar circumstances of the times. It was, indeed, the misfortune of this great cause to be assailed by every weapon which could be turned against it. At this time, Thomas Paine had published his _Rights of Man_. This had been widely circulated. At this time, also, the French revolution had existed nearly two years. The people of England had seen, during this interval, a government as it were dissected. They had seen an old constitution taken down, and a new one put up, piece by piece, in its stead. The revolution, therefore, in conjunction with the book in question, had had the effect of producing dissatisfaction among thousands; and this dissatisfaction was growing, so as to alarm a great number of persons of property in the kingdom, as well as the government itself. Now will it be believed that our opponents had the injustice to lay hold of these circumstances, at this critical moment, to give a death-blow to the cause of the abolition? They represented the committee, though it had existed before the French revolution, or the _Rights of Man_ were heard of, as a nest of Jacobins; and they held up the cause, sacred as it was, and though it had the support of the minister, as affording an opportunity of meeting for the purpose of overthrowing the state. Their cry succeeded. The very book of the abridgment of the evidence was considered by many members as poisonous as that of the _Rights of Man_. It was too profane for many of them to touch; and they who discarded it, discarded the cause also. But these were not the only circumstances which were used as means, at this critical moment, to defeat us. News of the revolution, which had commenced in St. Domingo, in consequence of the disputes between the whites and the people of colour, had, long before this, arrived in England. The horrible scenes which accompanied it, had been frequently published as so many arguments against our cause. In January, new insurrections were announced as having happened in Martinique. The negroes there were described as armed, and the planters as having abandoned their estates for fear of massacre. Early in the month of March, insurrections in the smaller French islands were reported. Every effort was then made to represent these as the effects of the new principles of liberty, and of the cry for abolition. But what should happen, just at this moment, to increase the clamour against us? Nothing less than an insurrection in Dominica.--Yes!--An insurrection in a British island. This was the very event for our opponents. "All the predictions of the planters had now become verified. The horrible massacres were now realizing at home." To give this news still greater effect, a meeting of our opponents was held at the London Tavern. By a letter read there, it appeared that "the ruin of Dominica was now at hand." Resolutions were voted, and a memorial presented to government, "immediately to despatch such a military force to the different islands, as might preserve the whites from destruction, and keep the negroes in subjection during the present critical state of the slave bill." This alarm was kept up till the 7th of April, when another meeting took place, to receive the answer of government to the memorial. It was there resolved that, "as it was too late to send troops to the islands, the best way of preserving them would be to bring the question of the Slave Trade to an immediate issue; and that it was the duty of the government, if they regarded the safety of the islands, to oppose the abolition of it." Accounts of all these proceedings were inserted in the public papers. It is needless to say that they were injurious to our cause. Many looked upon the abolitionists as monsters. They became also terrified themselves. The idea with these was, that unless the discussion on this subject was terminated, all would be lost. Thus, under a combination of effects, arising from the publication of the _Rights of Man_, the rise and progress of the French revolution, and the insurrections of the negroes in the different islands, no one of which events had anything to do with the abolition of the Slave Trade, the current was turned against us; and in this unfavourable frame of mind many members of parliament went into the House, on the day fixed for the discussion, to discharge their duty with respect to this great question. On the 18th of April, Mr. Wilberforce made his motion. He began by expressing a hope, that the present debate, instead of exciting asperity and confirming prejudice, would tend to produce a general conviction of the truth of what in fact was incontrovertible; that the abolition of the Slave Trade was indispensably required of them, not only by morality and religion, but by sound policy. He stated that he should argue the matter from evidence. He adverted to the character, situation, and means of information of his own witnesses; and having divided his subject into parts, the first of which related to the manner of reducing the natives of Africa to a state of slavery, he handled it in the following manner:-- He would begin, he said, with the first boundary of the trade. Captain Wilson and Captain Hills, of His Majesty's navy, and Mr. Dalrymple, of the land service, had concurred in stating, that in the country contiguous to the river Senegal, when slave-ships arrived there, armed parties were regularly sent out in the evening, who scoured the country, and brought in their prey. The wretched victims were to be seen in the morning bound back to back in the huts on shore, whence they were conveyed, tied hand and foot, to the slave-ships. The design of these ravages was obvious, because, when the Slave Trade was stopped, they ceased. Mr. Kiernan spoke of the constant depredations by the Moors to procure slaves. Mr. Wadstrom confirmed them. The latter gentleman showed also that they were excited by presents of brandy, gunpowder, and such other incentives; and that they were not only carried on by one community against another, but that the kings were stimulated to practise them in their territories, and on their own subjects: and in one instance a chieftain, who, when intoxicated, could not resist the demands of the slave merchants, had expressed, in a moment of reason, a due sense of his own crime, and had reproached his Christian seducers. Abundant also were the instances of private rapine. Individuals were kidnapped, whilst in their fields and gardens. There was an universal feeling of distrust and apprehension there. The natives never went any distance from home without arms; and when Captain Wilson asked them the reason of it, they pointed to a slave-ship then lying within sight. On the windward coast, it appeared from Lieutenant Story and Mr. Bowman, that the evils just mentioned existed, if possible, in a still higher degree. They had seen the remains of villages, which had been burnt, whilst the fields of corn were still standing beside them, and every other trace of recent desolation. Here an agent was sent to establish a settlement in the country, and to send to the ships such slaves as he might obtain. The orders he received from his captain were, that "he was to encourage the chieftains by brandy and gunpowder to go to war, to make slaves." This he did. The chieftains performed their part in return. The neighbouring villages were surrounded and set on fire in the night. The inhabitants were seized when making their escape; and, being brought to the agent, were by him forwarded to his principal on the coast. Mr. How, a botanist in the service of Government, stated, that on the arrival of an order for slaves from Cape Coast Castle, while he was there, a native chief immediately sent forth armed parties, who brought in a supply of all descriptions in the night. But he would now mention one or two instances of another sort, and these merely on account of the conclusion, which was to be drawn from them. When Captain Hills was in the river Gambia, he mentioned accidentally to a Black pilot, who was in the boat with him, that he wanted a cabin-boy. It so happened that some youths were then on the shore with vegetables to sell. The pilot beckoned to them to come on board; at the same time giving Captain Hills to understand, that he might take his choice of them; and when Captain Hills rejected the proposal with indignation, the pilot seemed perfectly at a loss to account for his warmth; and drily observed, that the slave-captains would not have been so scrupulous. Again, when General Rooke commanded at Goree, a number of the natives, men, women, and children, came to pay him a friendly visit. All was gaiety and merriment. It was a scene to gladden the saddest, and to soften the hardest, heart. But a slave-captain was not so soon thrown off his guard. Three English barbarians of this description had the audacity jointly to request the general, to seize the whole unsuspicious multitude and sell them. For this they alleged the precedent of a former governor. Was not this request a proof of the frequency of such acts of rapine? for how familiar must such have been to slave-captains, when three of them dared to carry a British officer of rank such a flagitious proposal! This would stand in the place of a thousand instances. It would give credibility to every other act of violence stated in the evidence, however enormous it might appear. But he would now have recourse for a moment to circumstantial evidence. An adverse witness, who had lived on the Gold Coast, had said that the only way in which children could he enslaved, was by whole families being sold when the principals had been condemned for witchcraft. But he said at the same time, that few were convicted of this crime, and that the younger part of a family in these cases was sometimes spared. But if this account were true, it would follow that the children in the slave-vessels would be few indeed. But it had been proved, that the usual proportion of these was never less than a fourth of the whole cargo on the coast, and also, that the kidnapping of children was very prevalent there. All these atrocities, he said, were fully substantiated by the evidence; and here he should do injustice to his cause, if he were not to make a quotation from the speech of Mr. B. Edwards in the Assembly of Jamaica, who, though he was hostile to his propositions, had yet the candour to deliver himself in the following manner there. "I am persuaded," says he, "that Mr. Wilberforce has been rightly informed as to the manner in which slaves are generally procured. The intelligence I have collected from my own negroes abundantly confirms his account; and I have not the smallest doubt, that in Africa the effects of this trade are precisely such as he has represented them. The whole, or the greatest part, of that immense continent is a field of warfare and desolation; a wilderness, in which the inhabitants are wolves towards each other. That this scene of oppression, fraud, treachery, and bloodshed, if not originally occasioned, is in part (I will not say wholly) upheld by the Slave Trade, I dare not dispute. Every man in the Sugar Islands may be convinced that it is so, who will enquire of any African negroes, on their first arrival, concerning the circumstances of their captivity. The assertion that it is otherwise, is mockery and insult." But it was not only by acts of outrage that the Africans were brought into bondage. The very administration of justice was turned into an engine for that end. The smallest offence was punished by a fine equal to the value of a slave. Crimes were also fabricated; false accusations were resorted to; and persons were sometimes employed to seduce the unwary into practices with a view to the conviction and the sale of them. It was another effect of this trade, that it corrupted the morals of those who carried it on. Every fraud was used to deceive the ignorance of the natives by false weights and measures, adulterated commodities, and other impositions of a like sort. These frauds were even acknowledged by many who had themselves practised them, in obedience to the orders of their superiors. For the honour of the mercantile character of the country, such a traffic ought immediately to be suppressed. Yet these things, however clearly proved by positive testimony, by the concession of opponents, by particular inference, by general reasoning, by the most authentic histories of Africa, by the experience of all countries and of all ages,--these things, and (what was still more extraordinary) even the possibility of them, were denied by those who had been brought forward on the other side of the question. These, however, were chiefly persons who had been trading-governors of forts in Africa, or who had long commanded ships in the Slave Trade. As soon as he knew the sort of witnesses which was to be called against him, he had been prepared to expect much prejudice. But his expectations had been greatly surpassed by the testimony they had given. He did not mean to impeach their private characters, but they certainly showed themselves under the influence of such gross prejudices, as to render them incompetent judges of the subject they came to elucidate. They seemed (if he might so say) to be enveloped by a certain atmosphere of their own; and to see, as it were, through a kind of African medium. Every object which met their eyes came distorted and turned from its true direction. Even the declarations, which they made on other occasions, seemed wholly strange to them. They sometimes not only forgot what they had seen, but what they had said; and when to one of them his own testimony to the privy council was read, he mistook it for that of another, whose evidence he declared to be "the merest burlesque in the world." But the House must be aware that there was not only an African medium, but an African logic. It seemed to be an acknowledged axiom in this, that every person who offered a slave for sale had a right to sell him, however fraudulently he might have obtained him. This had been proved by the witnesses who opposed him. "It would have stopped my trade," said one of them, "to have asked the broker how he came by the person he was offering me for sale."--"We always suppose," said another, "the broker has a right to sell the person he offers us."--"I never heard of such a question being asked," said a third; "a man would be thought a fool who should put such a question."--He hoped the House would see the practical utility of this logic. It was the key-stone which held the building together. By means of it, slave-captains might traverse the whole coast of Africa, and see nothing but equitable practices. They could not, however, be wholly absolved, even if they availed themselves of this principle to its fullest extent; for they had often committed depredations themselves; especially when they were passing by any part of the coast, where they did not mean to continue or to go again. Hence it was (as several captains of the navy and others had declared on their examination), that the natives, when at sea in their canoes, would never come near the men-of-war, till they knew them to be such. But finding this, and that they were not slave-vessels, they laid aside their fears, and came and continued on board with unsuspecting cheerfulness. With respect to the miseries of the Middle Passage, he had said so much on a former occasion, that he would spare the feelings of the committee as much as he could. He would therefore simply state that the evidence, which was before them, confirmed all those scenes of wretchedness which he had then described: the same suffering from a state of suffocation, by being crowded together; the same dancing in fetters; the same melancholy singing; the same eating by compulsion; the same despair; the same insanity; and all the other abominations which characterized the trade. New instances however had occurred, where these wretched men had resolved on death to terminate their woes. Some had destroyed themselves by refusing sustenance, in spite of threats and punishments. Others had thrown themselves into the sea; and more than one, when in the act of drowning, were seen to wave their hands in triumph, "exulting" (to use the words of an eye-witness) "that they had escaped." Yet these and similar things, when viewed through the African medium he had mentioned, took a different shape and colour. Captain Knox, an adverse witness, had maintained, that slaves lay during the night in tolerable comfort. And yet he confessed, that in a vessel of one hundred and twenty tons, in which he had carried two hundred and ninety slaves, the latter had not all of them room to lie on their backs. How comfortably, then, must they have lain in his subsequent voyages! for he carried afterwards, in a vessel of a hundred and eight tons, four hundred and fifty; and in a vessel of one hundred and fifty tons, no less than six hundred slaves. Another instance of African deception was to be found in the testimony of Captain Frazer, one of the most humane captains in the trade. It had been said of him, that he had held hot coals to the mouth of a slave, to compel him to eat. He was questioned on this point; but not admitting, in the true spirit of African logic, that he who makes another commit a crime is guilty of it himself, he denied the charge indignantly, and defied a proof. But it was said to him, "Did you never order such a thing to be done?" His reply was, "Being sick in my cabin, I was informed that a man-slave would neither eat, drink, nor speak. I desired the mate and surgeon to try to persuade him to speak. I desired that the slaves might try also. When I found he was still obstinate, not knowing whether it was from sulkiness or insanity, I ordered a person to present him with a piece of fire in one hand, and a piece of yam in the other, and to tell me what effect this had upon him. I learnt that he took the yam and began to eat it, but he threw the fire overboard." Such was his own account of the matter. This was eating by duresse, if anything could be called so. The captain, however, triumphed in his expedient; and concluded by telling the committee, that he sold this very slave at Grenada for forty pounds. Mark here the moral of the tale, and learn the nature and the cure of sulkiness. But upon whom did the cruelties, thus arising out of the prosecution of this barbarous traffic, fall? Upon a people with feeling and intellect like ourselves. One witness had spoken of the acuteness of their understandings; another, of the extent of their memories; a third, of their genius for commerce: a fourth, of their proficiency in manufactures at home. Many had admired their gentle and peaceable disposition, their cheerfulness, and their hospitality. Even they who were nominally slaves, in Africa lived a happy life. A witness against the abolition had described them as sitting and eating with their masters in the true style of patriarchal simplicity and comfort. Were these, then, a people incapable of civilization? The argument that they were an inferior species had been proved to be false. He would now go to a new part of the subject. An opinion had gone forth that the abolition of the trade would be the ruin of the West India Islands. He trusted he should prove that the direct contrary was the truth; though, had he been unable to do this, it would have made no difference as to his own vote. In examining, however, this opinion; he should exclude the subject of the cultivation of new lands by fresh importations of slaves. The impolicy of this measure, apart from its inhumanity, was indisputably clear. Let the committee consider the dreadful mortality which attended it. Let them look to the evidence of Mr. Woolrich, and there see a contrast drawn between the slow, but sure, progress of cultivation carried on in the natural way, and the attempt to force improvements, which, however flattering the prospect at first, soon produced a load of debt, and inextricable embarrassments. He might even appeal to the statements of the West Indians themselves, who allowed that more than twenty millions were owing to the people of this country, to show that no system could involve them so deeply as that on which they had hitherto gone. But he would refer them to the accounts of Mr. Irving, as contained in the evidence. Waving, then, the consideration of this part of the subject, the opinion in question must have arisen from a notion, that the stock of slaves, now in the islands, could not be kept up by propagation; but that it was necessary, from time to time, to recruit them with imported Africans. In direct refutation of this position he should prove: First, that, in the condition and treatment of the Negroes, there were causes sufficient to afford us reason to expect a considerable decrease, but particularly that their increase had not been a serious object of attention: Secondly, that this decrease was in fact, notwithstanding, very trifling; or rather, he believed, he might declare it had now actually ceased: and, Thirdly, he should urge many direct and collateral facts and arguments, constituting on the whole an irresistible proof, that even a rapid increase might henceforth be expected. He wished to treat the West Indians with all possible candour: but he was obliged to confess, in arguing upon these points, that whatever splendid instances there might be of kindness towards their slaves, there were some evils of almost universal operation, which were necessarily connected with the system of slavery. Above all, the state of degradation to which they were reduced, deserved to be noticed, as it produced an utter inattention to them as moral agents; they were kept at work under the whip like cattle; they were left totally ignorant of morality and religion; there was no regular marriage among them; hence promiscuous intercourse, early prostitution, and excessive drinking, were material causes of their decrease. With respect to the instruction of the slaves in the principles of religion, the happiest effects had resulted, particularly in Antigua, where, under the Moravians and Methodists, they had so far profited, that the planters themselves confessed their value as property had been raised one-third by their increased habits of regularity and industry. Whatever might have been said to the contrary, it was plainly to be inferred from the evidence that the slaves were not protected by law. Colonial statutes had indeed been passed, but they were a dead letter; since, however ill they were treated, they were not considered as having a right to redress. An instance of astonishing cruelty by a Jew had been mentioned by Mr. Ross; it was but justice to say, that the man was held in detestation for it, but yet no one had ever thought of calling him to a legal account. Mr. Ross conceived a master had a right to punish his slave in whatever manner he might think proper; the same was declared by numberless other witnesses. Some instances indeed had lately occurred of convictions. A master had wantonly cut the mouth of a child, of six months old, almost from ear to ear. But did not the verdict of the jury show, that the doctrine of calling masters to an account was entirely novel, as it only pronounced him "Guilty, subject to the opinion of the court, if immoderate correction of a slave by his master be a crime indictable!" The court determined in the affirmative; and what was the punishment of this barbarous act?--A fine of forty shillings currency, equivalent to about twenty-five shillings sterling. The slaves were but ill off in point of medical care. Sometimes four or five, and even eight or nine thousand of them, were under the care of one medical man; which, dispersed on different and distant estates, was a greater number than he could possibly attend to. It was also in evidence that they were in general under-fed; they were supported partly by the produce of their own provision-ground, and partly by an allowance of flour and grain from their masters. In one of the islands, where provision-ground did not answer one year in three, the allowance to a working Negro was but from five to nine pints of grain per week: in Dominica, where it never failed, from six to seven quarts: in Nevis and St. Christopher's, where there was no provision-ground, it was but eleven pints. Add to this, that it might be still less, as the circumstances of their masters might become embarrassed, and in this case both an abridgment of their food and an increase of their labour would follow. But the great cause of the decrease of the slaves was in the non-residence of the planters. Sir George Yonge, and many others, had said, they had seen the slaves treated in a manner which their owners would have resented if they had known it. Mr. Orde spoke in the strongest terms of the misconduct of managers. The fact was, that these in general sought to establish their characters by producing large crops at a small immediate expense; too little considering how far the slaves might suffer from ill-treatment and excessive labour. The pursuit of such a system was a criterion for judging of their characters, as both Mr. Long and Mr. Ottley had confessed. But he must contend, in addition to this, that the object of keeping up the stock of slaves by breeding had never been seriously attended to. For this he might appeal both to his own witnesses and to those of his opponents, but he would only notice one fact. It was remarkable that, when owners and managers were asked about the produce of their estates, they were quite at home as to the answer; but when they were asked about the proportion of their male and female slaves, and their infants, they knew little about the matter. Even medical men were adepts in the art of planting, but when they were asked the latter questions, as connected with breeding and rearing, they seemed quite amazed, and could give no information upon the subject of them. Persons, however, of great respectability had been called as witnesses who had not seen the treatment of the Negroes as he had now described it. He knew what was due to their characters, but yet he must enter a general protest against their testimony. "I have often," says Mr. Ross, "attended both governors and admirals upon tours in the island of Jamaica, but it was not likely that these should see much distress upon these occasions. The white people and drivers would take care not to harrow up the feelings of strangers of distinction by the exercise of the whip, or the infliction of punishments, at that particular time; and, even if there were any disgusting objects, it was natural to suppose that they would then remove them." But in truth these gentlemen had given proofs that they were under the influence of prejudice. Some of them had declared the abolition would ruin the West Indies; but this, it was obvious, must depend upon the practicability of keeping up the stock without African supplies; and yet, when they were questioned upon this point, they knew nothing about it; hence they had formed a conclusion without premises. Their evidence, too, extended through a long series of years; they had never seen one instance of ill-treatment in the time, and yet, in the same breath, they talked of the amended situation of the slaves, and that they were now far better off than formerly. One of them, to whom his country owed much, stated that a master had been sentenced to death for the murder of his own slave; but his recollection must have failed him, for the murder of a slave was not then a capital crime. A respectable governor also had delivered an opinion to the same effect; but, had he looked into the statute-book of the island, he would have found his error. It had been said that the slaves were in a better state than the peasantry of this country; but when the question was put to Mr. Ross, did he not answer, "that he would not insult the latter by a comparison!" It had been said again, that the Negroes were happier as slaves than they would be if they were to be made free. But how was this reconcilable with facts? If a Negro under extraordinary circumstances had saved money enough, did he not always purchase his release from this situation of superior happiness by the sacrifice of his last shilling? Was it not also notorious, that the greatest reward which a master thought he could bestow upon his slave for long and faithful services was his freedom. It had been said again, that Negroes, when made free, never returned to their own country. But was not the reason obvious? If they could even reach their own homes in safety, their kindred and connexions might be dead. But would they subject themselves to be kidnapped again; to be hurried once more on board a slave-ship, and again to endure and survive the horrors of the passage? Yet the love of their native country had been proved beyond a doubt; many of the witnesses had heard them talk of it in terms of the strongest affection. Acts of suicide, too, were frequent in the islands, under the notion that these afforded them the readiest means of getting home. Conformably with this, Captain Wilson had maintained that the funerals, which in Africa were accompanied with lamentations and cries of sorrow, were attended, in the West Indies with every mark of joy. He had now, he said, made good his first proposition--that in the condition of the slaves there were causes, which should lead us to expect, that there would be a considerable decrease among them. This decrease in the island of Jamaica was but trifling, or, rather, it had ceased some years ago; and if there was a decrease, it was only on the imported slaves. It appeared from the privy council report, that from 1698 to 1730 the decrease was three and a-half per cent.; from 1730 to 1755 it was two and a-half per cent.; from 1755 to 1768 it was lessened to one and three-quarters; and from 1768 to 1788 it was not more than one per cent. This last decrease was not greater than could be accounted for from hurricanes and consequent famines, and from the number of imported Africans who perished in the seasoning. The latter was a cause of mortality, which, it was evident, would cease with the importations. This conclusion was confirmed in part by Dr. Anderson, who, in his testimony to the Assembly of Jamaica, affirmed that there was a considerable increase on the properties of the island, and particularly in the parish in which he resided. He would now proceed to establish his second proposition, that from henceforth a very considerable increase might be expected. This he might support by a close reasoning upon the preceding facts; but the testimony of his opponents furnished him with sufficient evidence. He could show, that wherever the slaves were treated better than ordinary, there was uniformly an increase in their number. Look at the estates of Mr. Willock, Mr. Ottley, Sir Ralph Payne, and others. In short, he should weary the committee, if he were to enumerate the instances of plantations, which were stated in the evidence to have kept up their numbers only from a little variation in their treatment. A remedy also had been lately found for a disorder, by which vast numbers of infants had been formerly swept away. Mr. Long, also, had laid it down, that whenever the slaves should bear a certain proportion to the produce, they might be expected to keep up their numbers; but this proportion they now exceeded. The Assembly of Jamaica had given it also as their opinion, "that when once the sexes should become nearly equal in point of number, there was no reason to suppose, that the increase of the Negroes by generation would fall short of the natural increase of the labouring poor in Great Britain." But the inequality, here spoken of, could only exist in the case of the African Negroes, of whom more males were imported than females; and this inequality would be done away soon after the trade should cease. But the increase of the Negroes, where their treatment was better than ordinary, was confirmed in the evidence by instances in various parts of the world. From one end of the continent of America to the other, their increase had been undeniably established; and this to a prodigious extent, though they had to contend with the severe cold of the winter, and in some parts with noxious exhalations in the summer. This was the case, also, in the settlement of Bencoolen in the East Indies. It appeared from the evidence of Mr. Botham, that a number of Negroes, who had been imported there in the same disproportion of the sexes as in West Indian cargoes, and who lived under the same disadvantages, as in the islands, of promiscuous intercourse and general prostitution, began, after they had been settled a short time, annually to increase. But to return to the West Indies.--A slave-ship had been, many years ago, wrecked near St. Vincent's. The slaves on board, who escaped to the island, were without necessaries; and, besides, were obliged to maintain a war with the native Caribbs: yet they soon multiplied to an astonishing number; and, according to Mr. Ottley, they were now on the increase. From Sir John Dalrymple's evidence it appeared that the domestic slaves in Jamaica, who were less worked than those in the field, increased; and from Mr. Long, that the free Blacks and Mulattoes there increased also. But there was an instance which militated against these facts (and the only one in the evidence), which he would now examine. Sir Archibald Campbell had heard that the Maroons in Jamaica, in the year 1739, amounted to three thousand men fit to carry arms. This supposed their whole number to have been about twelve thousand; but in the year 1782, after a real muster by himself, he found, to his great astonishment, that the fighting men did not then amount to three hundred. Now the fact was, that Sir Archibald Campbell's first position was founded upon rumour only, and was not true; for, according to Mr. Long, the Maroons were actually numbered in 1749, when they amounted to about six hundred and sixty in all, having only a hundred and fifty men fit to carry arms. Hence, if when mustered by Sir Archibald Campbell he found three hundred fighting men, they must from 1749 to 1782 have actually doubled their population. Was it possible, after these instances, to suppose that the Negroes could not keep up their numbers, if their natural increase were made a subject of attention? The reverse was proved by sound reasoning. It had been confirmed by unquestionable facts. It had been shown, that they had increased in every situation, where there was the slightest circumstance in their favour. Where there had been any decrease, it was stated to be trifling; though no attention appeared to have been paid to the subject. This decrease had been gradually lessening; and, whenever a single cause of it had been removed (many still remaining), it had altogether ceased. Surely these circumstances formed a body of proof which was irresistible. He would now speak of the consequences of the abolition of the Slave Trade in other points of view; and first, as to its effects upon our marine. An abstract of the Bristol and Liverpool muster-rolls had been just laid before the House. It appeared from this, that in three hundred and fifty slave-vessels, having on board twelve thousand two hundred and sixty-three persons, two thousand six hundred and forty-three were lost in twelve months; whereas in four hundred and sixty-two West Indiamen, having on board seven thousand six hundred and forty persons, one hundred and eighteen only were lost in seven months. This rather exceeded the losses stated by Mr. Clarkson. For their barbarous usage on board these ships, and for their sickly and abject state in the West Indies, he would appeal to Governor Parry's letter; to the evidence of Mr. Ross; to the assertion of Mr. B. Edwards, an opponent; and to the testimony of Captains Sir George Yonge and Thompson, of the Royal Navy. He would appeal, also, to what Captain Hall, of the Navy, had given in evidence. This gentleman, after the action of the 12th of April, impressed thirty hands from a slave-vessel, whom he selected with the utmost care from a crew of seventy; and he was reprimanded by his admiral, though they could scarcely get men to bring home the prizes, for introducing such wretches to communicate disorders to the fleet. Captain Smith of the Navy had also declared, that when employed to board Guineamen to impress sailors, although he had examined near twenty vessels, he never was able to get more than two men, who were fit for service; and these turned out such inhuman fellows, although good seamen, that he was obliged to dismiss them from the ship. But he hoped the committee would attend to the latter part of the assertion of Captain Smith. Yes: this trade, while it injured the constitutions of our sailors, debased their morals. Of this, indeed, there was a barbarous illustration in the evidence. A slave-ship had struck on some shoals, called the Morant Keys, a few leagues from the east end of Jamaica. The crew landed in their boats, with arms and provisions, leaving the slaves on board in their irons. This happened in the night. When morning came, it was discovered that the Negroes had broken their shackles, and were busy in making rafts; upon which afterwards they placed the women and children. The men attended upon the latter, swimming by their side, whilst they drifted to the island where the crew were. But what was the sequel? From an apprehension that the Negroes would consume the water and provisions, which had been landed, the crew resolved to destroy them as they approached the shore. They killed between three and four hundred. Out of the whole cargo only thirty-three were saved, who, on being brought to Kingston, were sold. It would, however, be to no purpose, he said, to relieve the Slave Trade from this act of barbarity. The story of the Morant Keys was paralleled by that of Captain Collingwood; and were you to get rid of these, another, and another, would still present itself, to prove the barbarous effects of this trade on the moral character. But of the miseries of the trade there was no end. Whilst he had been reading out of the evidence the story of the Morant Keys, his eye had but glanced on the opposite page, and it met another circumstance of horror. This related to what were called the refuse-slaves. Many people in Kingston were accustomed to speculate in the purchase of those, who were left after the first day's sale. They then carried them out into the country, and retailed them. Mr. Ross declared, that he had seen these landed in a very wretched state, sometimes in the agonies of death, and sold as low as for a dollar, and that he had known several expire in the piazzas of the vendue-master. The bare description superseded the necessity of any remark. Yet these were the familiar incidents of the Slave Trade. But he would go back to the seamen. He would mention another cause of mortality, by which many of them lost their lives. In looking over Lloyd's list, no less than six vessels were cut off by the irritated natives in one year, and the crews massacred. Such instances were not unfrequent. In short, the history of this commerce was written throughout in characters of blood. He would next consider the effects of the abolition on those places where it was chiefly carried on. But would the committee believe, after all the noise which had been made on this subject, that the Slave Trade composed but a thirtieth part of the export trade of Liverpool, and that of the trade of Bristol it constituted a still less proportion? For the effects of the abolition on the general commerce of the kingdom, he would refer them to Mr. Irving; from whose evidence it would appear, that the medium value of the British manufactures, exported to Africa, amounted only to between four and five hundred thousand pounds annually. This was but a trifling sum. Surely the superior capital, ingenuity, application, and integrity of the British manufacturer would command new markets for the produce of his industry, to an equal amount, when this should be no more. One branch, however, of our manufactures, he confessed, would suffer from the abolition; and that was the manufacture of gunpowder; of which the nature of our connexion with Africa drew from us as much as we exported to all the rest of the world besides. He hastened, however, to another part of the argument. Some had said, "We wish to put an end to the Slave Trade, but we do not approve of your mode. Allow more time. Do not displease the legislatures of the West India islands. It is by them that those laws must be passed, and enforced, which will secure your object." Now he was directly at issue with these gentlemen. He could show, that the abolition was the only certain mode of amending the treatment of the slaves, so as to secure their increase: and that the mode which had been offered to him, was at once inefficacious and unsafe. In the first place, how could any laws, made by these legislatures, be effectual, whilst the evidence of Negroes was in no case admitted against White men? What was the answer from Grenada? Did it not state, "that they who were capable of cruelty, would in general be artful enough to prevent any but slaves from being witnesses of the fact?" Hence it had arisen, that when positive laws had been made, in some of the islands, for the protection of the slaves, they had been found almost a dead letter. Besides, by what law would you enter into every man's domestic concerns, and regulate the interior economy of his house and plantation? This would be something more than a general excise. Who would endure such a law? And yet on all these and innumerable other minutiae must depend the protection of the slaves, their comforts, and the probability of their increase. It was universally allowed, that the Code Noir had been utterly neglected in the French islands, though there was an officer appointed by the crown to see it enforced. The provisions of the Directorio had been but of little more avail in the Portuguese settlements, or the institution of a Protector of the Indians, in those of the Spaniards. But what degree or protection the slaves would enjoy might be inferred from the admission of a gentleman, by whom this very plan of regulation had been recommended, and who was himself no ordinary person, but a man of discernment and legal resources. He had proposed a limitation of the number of lashes to be given by the master or overseer for one offence. But, after all, he candidly confessed, that his proposal was not likely to be useful, while the evidence of slaves continued inadmissible against their masters. But he could even bring testimony to the inefficacy of such regulations. A wretch in Barbados had chained a Negro girl to the floor, and flogged her till she was nearly expiring. Captain Cook and Major Fitch, hearing her cries, broke open the door and found her. The wretch retreated from their resentment, but cried out exultingly, "that he had only given her thirty-nine lashes (the number limited by law) at any one time; and that he had only inflicted this number three times since the beginning of the night," adding, "that he would prosecute them for breaking open his door; and that he would flog her to death for all any one, if he pleased; and that he would give her the fourth thirty-nine before morning." But this plan of regulation was not only inefficacious, but unsafe. He entered his protest against the fatal consequences which might result from it. The Negroes were creatures like ourselves; but they were uninformed, and their moral character was debased. Hence they were unfit for civil rights. To use these properly they must be gradually restored to that level, from which they had been so unjustly degraded. To allow them an appeal to the laws, would be to awaken in them a sense of the dignity of their nature. The first return of life, after a swoon, was commonly a convulsion, dangerous at once to the party himself and to all around him. You should first prepare them for the situation, and not bring the situation to them. To be under the protection of the law was in fact to be a freeman; and to unite slavery and freedom in one condition was impracticable. The abolition, on the other hand, was exactly such an agent as the case required. All hopes of supplies from the coast being cut off, breeding would henceforth become a serious object of attention; and the care of this, as including better clothing, and feeding, and milder discipline, would extend to innumerable particulars, which an act of assembly could neither specify nor enforce. The horrible system, too, which many had gone upon, of working out their slaves in a few years, and recruiting their gangs with imported Africans, would receive its death-blow from the abolition of the trade. The opposite would force itself on the most unfeeling heart. Ruin would stare a man in the face, if he were not to conform to it. The non-resident owners would then express themselves in the terms of Sir Philip Gibbs, "that he should consider it as the fault of his manager, if he were not to keep up the number of his slaves." This reasoning concerning the different tendencies of the two systems was self-evident; but facts were not wanting to confirm it. Mr. Long had remarked, that all the insurrections and suicides in Jamaica had been found among the imported slaves, who, not having lost the consciousness of civil rights, which they had enjoyed in their own country, could not brook the indignities to which they were subjected in the West Indies. An instance in point was afforded also by what had lately taken place in the island of Dominica. The disturbance there had been chiefly occasioned by some runaway slaves from the French islands. But what an illustration was it of his own doctrine to say, that the slaves of several persons, who had been treated with kindness, were not among the number of the insurgents on that occasion! But when persons coolly talked of putting an end to the Slave Trade through the medium of the West India legislatures, and of gradual abolition, by means of regulations, they surely forgot the miseries which this horrid traffic occasioned in Africa during every moment of its continuance. This consideration was conclusive with him, when called upon to decide whether the Slave Trade should be tolerated for a while, or immediately abolished. The divine law against murder was absolute and unqualified. Whilst we were ignorant of all these things, our sanction of them might, in some measure, be pardoned. But now, when our eyes were opened, could we tolerate them for a moment, unless we were ready at once to determine, that gain should be our god, and, like the heathens of old, were prepared to offer up human victims at the shrine of our idolatry? This consideration precluded also the giving heed for an instant to another plea, namely, that if we were to abolish the trade it would be proportionably taken up by other nations. But, whatever other nations did, it became Great Britain, in every point of view, to take a forward part. One half of this guilty commerce had been carried on by her subjects. As we had been great in crime we should be early in our repentance. If Providence had showered his blessings upon us in unparalleled abundance, we should show ourselves grateful for them by rendering them subservient to the purposes for which they were intended. There would be a day of retribution, wherein we should have to give an account of all those talents, faculties, and opportunities with which we have been intrusted. Let it not then appear that our superior power had been employed to oppress our fellow-creatures, and our superior light to darken the creation of God. He could not but look forward with delight to the happy prospects which opened themselves to his view in Africa, from the abolition of the Slave Trade, when a commerce, justly deserving that name, should be established with her; not like that, falsely so called, which now subsisted, and which all who were interested for the honour of the commercial character (though there were no superior principle) should hasten to disavow. Had this trade indeed been ever so profitable, his decision would have been in no degree affected by that consideration. "Here's the smell of blood on the hand still, and all the perfumes of Arabia cannot sweeten it." He doubted whether it was not almost an act of degrading condescension to stoop to discuss the question in the view of commercial interest. On this ground, however, he was no less strong than on every other. Africa abounded with productions of value, which she would gladly exchange for our manufactures, when these were not otherwise to be obtained: and to what an extent her demand might then grow, exceeded almost the powers of computation. One instance already existed of a native king, who being debarred by his religion the use of spirituous liquors, and therefore not feeling the irresistible temptation to acts of rapine which they afforded to his countrymen, had abolished the Slave Trade throughout all his dominions, and was encouraging an honest industry. For his own part, he declared that, interested as he might be supposed to be in the final event of the question, he was comparatively indifferent as to the present decision of the House upon it. Whatever they might do, the people of Great Britain, he was confident, would abolish the Slave Trade when, as would then soon happen, its injustice and cruelty should be fairly laid before them. It was a nest of serpents, which would never have existed so long but for the darkness in which they lay hid. The light of day would now be let in on them, and they would vanish from the sight. For himself, he declared he was engaged in a work which he would never abandon; the consciousness of the justice of his cause would carry him forward, though he were alone; but he could not but derive encouragement from considering with whom he was associated. Let us not, he said, despair; it is a blessed cause, and success ere long will crown our exertions. Already we have gained one victory; we have obtained for these poor creatures the recognition of their human nature[A], which, for a while, was most shamefully denied them. This is the first fruits of our efforts; let us persevere, and our triumph will be complete. Never, never, will we desist till we have wiped away this scandal from the Christian name; till we have released ourselves from the load of guilt under which we at present labour; and till we have extinguished every trace of this bloody traffic, which our posterity, looking back to the history of these enlightened times, will scarcely believe had been suffered to exist so long, a disgrace and a dishonour to our country. [Footnote A: This point was actually obtained by the evidence before the House of Commons; for, after this, we heard no more of them as an inferior race.] He then moved, that the chairman be instructed to move for leave to bring in a bill to prevent the further importation of slaves into the British colonies in the West Indies. Colonel Tarleton immediately rose up, and began by giving an historical account of the trade from the reign of Elizabeth to the present time. He then proceeded to the sanction which parliament had always given it; hence it could not then be withdrawn without a breach of faith: hence, also, the private property embarked in it was sacred; nor could it be invaded, unless an adequate compensation were given in return. They who had attempted the abolition of the trade were led away by a mistaken humanity; the Africans themselves had no objection to its continuance. With respect to the middle passage, he believed the mortality there to be on an average only five in the hundred; whereas in regiments sent out to the West Indies, the average loss in the year was about ten and a half per cent. The Slave Trade was absolutely necessary, if we meant to carry on our West India commerce; for many attempts had been made to cultivate the lands in the different islands by white labourers, but they had always failed. It had also the merit of keeping up a number of seamen in readiness for the state. Lord Rodney had stated this as one of its advantages on the breaking out of a war. Liverpool alone could supply nine hundred and ninety-three seamen annually. He would now advert to the connexions dependent upon the African trade. It was the duty of the House to protect the planters, whose lives had been, and were then, exposed to imminent, dangers, and whose property had undergone an unmerited, depreciation. To what could this depreciation, and to what could the late insurrection at Dominica be imputed, which had been saved from horrid carnage and midnight-butchery only by the adventitious arrival of two British regiments? They could only be attributed to the long delayed question of the abolition of the Slave Trade; and if this question were to go much longer unsettled, Jamaica would be endangered also. To members of landed property he would observe, that the abolition would lessen the commerce of the country, and increase the national debt and the number of their taxes. The minister, he hoped, who patronized this wild scheme had some new pecuniary resource in store to supply the deficiencies it would occasion. To the mercantile members he would speak thus: "A few ministerial men in the house had been gifted with religious inspiration, and this had been communicated to other eminent personages in it: these enlightened philanthropists had discovered that it was necessary, for the sake of humanity, and for the honour of the nation, that the merchants concerned in the African trade should be persecuted, notwithstanding the sanction of their trade by Parliament, and notwithstanding that such persecution must aggrandize the rivals of Great Britain." Now how did this language sound? It might have done in the twelfth century, when all was bigotry and superstition; but let not a mistaken humanity, in these enlightened times, furnish a colourable pretext for any injurious attack on property or character. These things being considered, he should certainly oppose the measure in contemplation. It would annihilate a trade, whose exports amounted to eight hundred thousand pounds annually, and which employed a hundred and sixty vessels, and more than five thousand seamen. It would destroy also the West India trade, which was of the annual value of six millions; and which employed one hundred and sixty thousand tons of shipping, and seamen in proportion. These were objects of too much importance to the country to be hazarded on an unnecessary speculation. Mr. Grosvenor then rose. He complimented the humanity of Mr. Wilberforce, though he differed from him on the subject of his motion. He himself had read only the privy council report, and he wished for no other evidence. The question had then been delayed two years; had the abolition been so clear a point as it was said to be, it could not have needed either so much evidence or time. He had heard a good deal about kidnapping, and other barbarous practices. He was sorry for them. But these were the natural consequences of the laws of Africa; and it became us as wise men to turn them to our own advantage. The Slave Trade was certainly not an amiable trade. Neither was that of a butcher; but yet it was a very necessary one. There was great reason to doubt the propriety of the present motion. He had twenty reasons for disapproving it. The first was, that the thing was impossible. He needed not, therefore to give the rest. Parliament, indeed might relinquish the trade. But to whom? To foreigners, who would continue it, and without the humane regulations which were applied to it by his countrymen. He would give advice to the House on this subject, in the words which the late Alderman Beckford used a different occasion:--"Meddle, not with troubled waters; they will be found to be bitter waters; and the waters of affliction." He again admitted, that the Slave Trade was not an amiable trade; but he would not gratify his humanity at the expense of the interests of his country; and he thought we should not too curiously inquire into the unpleasant circumstances which attended it. Mr. James Martin succeeded Mr. Grosvenor. He said he had been long aware how much self-interest could pervert the judgment; but he was not apprized of the full power of it, till the Slave Trade became a subject of discussion. He had always conceived that the custom of trafficing in human beings had been incautiously begun, and without any reflection upon it; for he never could believe that any man, under the influence of moral principles, could suffer himself knowingly to carry on a trade replete with fraud, cruelty, and destruction; with destruction indeed, of the worst kind, because it subjected the sufferers to a lingering death. But he found now, that even such a trade as this could be sanctioned. It was well observed, in the petition from the University of Cambridge against the Slave Trade, "that a firm belief in the providence of a benevolent Creator assured them that no system, founded on the oppression of one part of mankind, could be beneficial to another." He felt much concern, that in an assembly of the representatives of the country, boasting itself zealous, not only for the preservation of its own liberties, but for the general rights of mankind, it should be necessary to say a single word upon such a subject; but the deceitfulness of the human heart was such, as to change the appearances of truth, when it stood in opposition to self-interests. And he had to lament that even among those, whose public duty it was to cling to the universal and eternal principles of truth, justice, and humanity, there were found some who could defend that which was unjust, fraudulent, and cruel. The doctrines he had heard that evening ought to have been reserved for times the most flagrantly profligate and abandoned. He never expected then to learn that the everlasting laws of righteousness were to give way to imaginary, political, and commercial expediency; and that thousands of our fellow-creatures were to be reduced to wretchedness, that individuals might enjoy opulence, or government a revenue. He hoped that the House, for the sake of its own character, would explode these doctrines with all the marks of odium they deserved; and that all parties would join in giving a death-blow to this execrable trade. The royal family would, he expected, from their known benevolence, patronize the measure. Both Houses of Parliament were now engaged in the prosecution of a gentleman accused of cruelty and oppression in the East. But what were these cruelties, even if they could be brought home to him, when compared in number and degree to those which were every day and every hour committed in the abominable traffic which was now under their discussion! He considered, therefore, both Houses of Parliament as pledged upon this occasion. Of the support of the bishops he could have no doubt; because they were to render Christianity amiable, both by their doctrine and their example. Some of the inferior clergy had already manifested a laudable zeal in behalf of the injured Africans. The University of Cambridge had presented a petition to that House worthy of itself. The sister-university had, by one of her representatives, given sanction to the measure. Dissenters of various denominations, but particularly the Quakers, (who, to their immortal honour, had taken the lead in it,) had vied with those of the Established Church in this amiable contest. The first counties, and some of the largest trading towns, in the kingdom had espoused the cause. In short, there had never been more unanimity in the country, than in this righteous attempt. With such support, and with so good a cause, it would be impossible to fail. Let but every man stand forth who had at any time boasted of himself as an Englishman, and success would follow. But if he were to be unhappily mistaken as to the result, we must give up the name of Englishmen. Indeed, if we retained it, we should be the greatest hypocrites in the world; for we boasted of nothing more than of our own liberty; we manifested the warmest indignation at the smallest personal insult; we professed liberal sentiments towards other nations: but to do these things, and to continue such a traffic, would be to deserve the hateful character before mentioned. While we could hardly bear the sight of anything resembling slavery, even as a punishment, among ourselves, how could we consistently entail an eternal slavery upon others? It had been frequently, but most disgracefully, said, that "we should not be too eager in setting the example: let the French begin it." Such a sentiment was a direct libel upon the ancient, noble, and generous character of this nation. We ought, on the other hand, under the blessings we enjoyed, and under the high sense we entertained of our own dignity as a people, to be proudly fearful, lest other nations should anticipate our design, and obtain the palm before us. It became us to lead. And if others should not follow us, it would belong to them to glory in the shame of trampling under foot the laws of reason, humanity, and religion. This motion, he said, came strongly recommended to them. The honourable member who introduced it was justly esteemed for his character. He was the representative, too of a noble county, which had been always ready to take the lead in every public measure for the good of the community, or for the general benefit of mankind; of a county, too, which had had the honour of producing a Saville. Had his illustrious predecessor been alive, he would have shown the same zeal on the same occasion. The preservation of the unalienable rights of all his fellow-creatures was one of the chief characteristics of that excellent citizen. Let every member in that House imitate him in the purity of their conduct and in the universal rectitude of their measures, and they would pay the same tender regard to the rights of other countries as to those of their own; and, for his part, he should never believe those persons to be sincere who were loud in their professions of love of liberty, if he saw that love confined to the narrow circle of one community, which ought to be extended to the natural rights of every inhabitant of the globe. But we should be better able to bring ourselves up to this standard of rectitude, if we were to put ourselves into the situation of those whom we oppressed. This was the rule of our religion. What should we think of those who should say, that it was their interest to injure us? But he hoped we should not deceive ourselves so grossly as to imagine that it was our real interest to oppress any one. The advantages to be obtained by tyranny were imaginary, and deceitful to the tyrant; and the evils they caused to the oppressed were grievous, and often insupportable. Before he sat down, he would apologize if he had expressed himself too warmly on this subject. He did not mean to offend any one. There were persons connected with the trade, some of whom he pitied on account of the difficulty of their situation. But he should think most contemptibly of himself as a man if he could talk on this traffic without emotion. It would be a sign to him of his own moral degradation. He regretted his inability to do justice to such a cause; but if, in having attempted to forward it, he had shown the weakness of his powers, he must console himself with the consideration, that he felt more solid comfort in having acted up to sound public principles, than he could have done from the exercise of the most splendid talents, against the conviction of his conscience. Mr. Burdon rose, and said he was embarrassed to know how to act. Mr. Wilberforce had in a great measure met his ideas. Indeed he considered himself as much in his hands; but he wished to go gradually to the abolition of the trade. He wished to give time to the planters to recruit their stocks. He feared the immediate abolition might occasion a monopoly among such of them as were rich, to the detriment of the less affluent. We ought, like a judicious physician, to follow nature, and to promote a gradual recovery. Mr. Francis rose next. After complimenting Mr. Wilberforce, he stated that personal considerations might appear to incline him to go against the side which he was about to take, namely, that of strenuously supporting his motion. Having himself an interest in the West Indies, he thought that what he should submit to the House would have the double effect of evidence, and argument; and he stated most unequivocally his opinion, that the abolition of the Slave Trade would tend materially to the benefit of the West Indies. The arguments urged by the honourable mover were supported by the facts, which he had adduced from the evidence, more strongly than any arguments had been supported in any speech he had ever heard. He wished, however, that more of these facts had been introduced into the debate; for they were apt to have a greater effect upon the mind than mere reasonings, however just and powerful. Many had affirmed that the Slave Trade was politic and expedient; but it was worthy of remark, that no man had ventured to deny that it was criminal. Criminal, however, he declared it to be in the highest degree; and he believed it was equally impolitic. Both its inexpediency and injustice had been established by the honourable mover. He dwelt much on the unhappy situation of the negroes in the West Indies, who were without the protection of government or of efficient laws, and subject to the mere caprice of men, who were at once the parties, the judges, and the executioners. He instanced an overseer, who, having thrown a negro into a copper of boiling cane-juice, for a trifling offence, was punished merely by the loss of his place, and by being obliged to pay the value of the slave. He stated another instance of a girl of fourteen, who was dreadfully whipped for coming too late to her work. She fell down motionless after it; and was then dragged along the ground, by the legs, to an hospital; where she died. The murderer, though tried, was acquitted by a jury of his peers, upon the idea, that it was impossible a master could destroy his own property. This was a notorious fact. It was published in the _Jamaica Gazette;_ and it had even happened since the question of the abolition had been started. The only argument used against such cruelties, was the master's interest in the slave; but he urged the common cruelty to horses, in which their drivers had an equal interest with the drivers of men in the colonies, as a proof that this was no security. He had never heard an instance of a master being punished for the murder of his slave. The propagation of the slaves was so far from being encouraged, that it was purposely checked, because it was thought more profitable and less troublesome to buy a full grown negro, than to rear a child. He repeated that his interest might have inclined him to the other side of the question; but he did not choose to compromise between his interest and his duty; for, if he abandoned his duty, he should not be happy in this world; nor should he deserve happiness in the next. Mr. Pitt rose; but he said it was only to move, seeing that justice could not be done to the subject this evening, that the further consideration of the question might be adjourned to the next. Mr. Cawthorne and Colonel Tarleton both opposed this motion, and Colonel Phipps and Lord Carhampton supported it. Mr. Fox said, the opposition to the adjournment was uncandid and unbecoming. They who opposed it well knew that the trade could not bear discussion. Let it be discussed; and, although there were symptoms of predetermination in some, the abolition of it must be carried. He would not believe that there could be found in the House of Commons men of such hard hearts and inaccessible understandings, as to vote an assent to its continuance, and then go home to their families, satisfied with their vote, after they had been once made acquainted with the subject. Mr. Pitt agreed with Mr. Fox, that from a full discussion of the subject there was every reason to augur that the abolition would be adopted. Under the imputations, with which this trade was loaded, gentlemen should remember, they could not do justice to their own characters, unless they stood up, and gave their reasons for opposing the abolition of it. It was unusual also to force any question of such importance to so hasty a decision. For his own part, it was his duty, from the situation in which he stood, to state fully his own sentiments on the question; and, however exhausted both he and the House might be, he was resolved it should not pass without discussion, as long as he had strength to utter a word upon it. Every principle that could bind a man of honour and conscience, would impel him to give the most powerful support he could to the motion for the abolition. The motion of Mr. Pitt was assented to, and the House was adjourned accordingly. On the next day the subject was resumed. Sir William Yonge rose, and said, that, though he differed from the honourable mover, he had much admired his speech of the last evening. Indeed the recollection of it made him only the more sensible of the weakness of his own powers; and yet, having what he supposed to be irrefragable arguments in his possession, he felt emboldened to proceed. And, first, before he could vote for the abolition, he wished to be convinced, that, whilst Britain were to lose, Africa would gain. As for himself, he hated a traffic in men, and joyfully anticipated its termination at no distant period under a wise system of regulation: but he considered the present measure as crude and indolent; and as precluding better and wiser measures, which were already in train. A British Parliament should attain not only the best ends, but by the wisest means. Great Britain might abandon her share of this trade, but she could not abolish it. Parliament was not an assembly of delegates from the powers of Europe, but of a single nation. It could not therefore suppress the trade; but would eventually aggravate those miseries incident to it, which every enlightened man must acknowledge, and every good man must deplore. He wished the traffic for ever closed. But other nations were only waiting for our decision, to seize the part we should leave them. The new projects of these would be intemperate; and, in the zeal of rivalship, the present evils of comparatively sober dealing would be aggravated beyond all estimate in this new and heated auction of bidders for life and limb. We might, indeed, by regulation give an example of new principles of policy and of justice; but if we were to withdraw suddenly from this commerce, like Pontius Pilate, we should wash our hands, indeed, but we should not be innocent as to the consequences. On the first agitation of this business, Mr. Wilberforce had spoken confidently of other nations following our example. But had not the National Assembly of France referred the Slave Trade to a select committee, and had not that committee rejected the measure of its abolition? By the evidence it appeared, that the French and Spaniards were then giving bounties to the Slave Trade; that Denmark was desirous of following it; that America was encouraging it; and that the Dutch had recognized its necessity, and recommended its recovery. Things were bad enough indeed as they were, but he was sure this rivalship would make them worse. He did not admit the disorders imputed to the trade in all their extent. Pillage and kidnapping could not be general, on account of the populousness of the country; though too frequent instances of it had been proved. Crimes might be falsely imputed. This he admitted; but only partially. Witchcraft, he believed, was the secret of poisoning, and therefore deserved the severest punishment. That there should be a number of convictions for adultery, where polygamy was a custom, was not to be wondered at; but he feared, if a sale of these criminals were to be done away, massacre would be the substitute. An honourable member had asked on a former day, "Is it an excuse for robbery to say that another would hare committed it?" But the Slave Trade did not necessarily imply robbery. Not long since Great Britain sold her convicts, indirectly at least, to slavery; but he was no advocate for the trade. He wished it had begun, and that it might soon terminate. But the means were not adequate to the end proposed. Mr. Burke had said on a former occasion, "that in adopting measure we must prepare to pay the price of our virtue." He was ready to pay his share of that price; but the effect of the purchase must be first ascertained. If they did not estimate this, it was not benevolence, but dissipation. Effects were to be duly appreciated; and though statesmen might rest everything on a manifesto of causes, the humbler moralist, meditating peace and good will towards men, would venture to call such statesmen responsible for consequences. In regard to the colonies, a sudden abolition would be oppression. The legislatures there should be led, and not forced, upon this occasion. He was persuaded they would act wisely to attain the end pointed out to them. They would see that a natural increase of their negroes might be effected by an improved system of legislation; and that in the result the Slave Trade would be no longer necessary. A sudden abolition, also, would occasion dissatisfaction there. Supplies were necessary for some time to come. The negroes did not yet generally increase by birth. The gradation of ages was not yet duly filled. These and many defects might be remedied, but not suddenly. It would cause, also, distress there. The planters, not having their expected supplies, could not discharge their debts; hence their slaves would be seized and sold. Nor was there any provision in this case against the separation of families, except as to the mother and infant child. These separations were one of the chief outrages complained of in Africa. Why, then, should we promote them in the West Indies? The confinement on board a slave-ship had been also bitterly complained of; but, under distraint for the debt of a master, the poor slave might linger in a gaol twice or thrice the time of the Middle Passage. He again stated his abhorrence of the Slave Trade; but as a resource, though he hoped but a temporary one, it was of such consequence to the existence of the country, that it could not suddenly be withdrawn. The value, of the imports and exports between Great Britain and the West Indies, including the excise and customs, was between seven and eight millions annually; and the tonnage of the ships employed about an eighth of the whole tonnage of these kingdoms. He complained that in the evidence the West Indian planters had been by no means spared. Cruel stories had been hastily and lightly told against them. Invidious comparisons had been made to their detriment; but it was well known that one of our best comic writers, when he wished to show benevolence in its fairest colours, had personified it in the character of the West Indian. He wished the slave might become as secure as the apprentice in this country; but it was necessary that the alarms concerning the abolition of the Slave Trade should, in the mean time, be quieted; and he trusted that the good sense and true benevolence of the House would reject the present motion. Mr. Matthew Montagu rose and said a few words in support of the motion; and after condemning the trade in the strongest manner, he declared, that as long as he had life he would use every faculty of his body and mind in endeavouring to promote its abolition. Lord John Russell succeeded Mr. Montagu. He said, that although slavery was repugnant to his feelings, he must vote against the abolition as visionary and delusive. It was a feeble attempt, without the power, to serve the cause of humanity. Other nations would take up the trade. Whenever a bill of wise regulation should be brought forward, no man would be more ready than himself to lend his support. In this way the rights of humanity might be asserted without injury to others. He hoped he should not incur censure by his vote; for, let his understanding be what it might, he did not know that he had, notwithstanding the assertions of Mr. Fox, an inaccessible heart. Mr. Stanley (agent for the islands) rose next. He felt himself called upon, he said, to refute the many calumnies which had for years been propagated against the planters, (even through the medium of the pulpit, which should have been employed to better purposes,) and which had at length produced the mischievous measure, which was now under the discussion of the House. A cry had been sounded forth, and from one end of the kingdom to the other, as if there had never been a slave from Adam to the present time. But it appeared to him to have been the intention of Providence, from the very beginning, that one set of men should be slaves to another. This truth was as old as it was universal. It was recognised in every history, under every government, and in every religion. Nor did the Christian religion itself if the comments of Dr. Halifax, Bishop of Gloucester, on a passage of St. Paul's epistle to the Corinthians were true, show more repugnance to slavery than any other. He denied that the slaves were procured in the manner which had been described. It was the custom of all savages to kill their prisoners; and the Africans ought to be thankful that they had been carried safe into the British colonies. As to the tales of misery in the Middle Passage, they were gross falsehoods; and as to their treatment in the West Indies, he knew personally that it was, in general, indulgent and humane. With regard to promoting their increase by any better mode of treatment, he wished gentlemen would point it out to him. As a planter he would thank them for it. It was absurd to suppose that he and others were blind to their own interest. It was well known that one Creole slave was worth two Africans; and their interest, therefore, must suggest to them, that the propagation of slaves was preferable to the purchase of imported negroes, of whom one half very frequently died in the seasoning. He then argued the impossibility of beasts doing the work of the plantations. He endeavoured to prove that the number of these adequate to this purpose could not be supplied with food; and after having made many other observations, which, on account of the lowness of his voice, could not be heard, he concluded by objecting to the motion. Mr. William Smith rose. He wondered how the last speaker could have had the boldness to draw arguments from scripture in support of the Slave Trade. Such arguments could be intended only to impose on those who never took the trouble of thinking for themselves. Could it be thought for a moment, that the good sense of the House could be misled by a few perverted or misapplied passages, in direct opposition to the whole tenor, and spirit of Christianity; to the theory, he might say, of almost every religion, which had ever appeared in the world? Whatever might have been advanced, every body must feel that the Slave Trade could not exist an hour, if that excellent maxim, "to do to others as we would wish that others should do to us," had its proper influence on the conduct of men. Nor was Mr. Stanley more happy in his argument of the antiquity and universality of slavery. Because a practise had existed, did it necessarily follow that it was just? By this argument every crime might be defended from the time of Cain. The slaves of antiquity, however were in a situation far preferable to that of the negroes in the West Indies. A passage in Macrobius, which exemplified this in the strongest manner, was now brought to his recollection. "Our ancestors," says Macrobius, "denominated the master, father of the family, and the slave, domestic, with the intention of removing all odium from the condition of the master, and all contempt from that of the servant." Could this language be applied to the present state of West India slavery? It had been complained of by those who supported the trade, that they laboured under great disadvantages by being obliged to contend against the most splendid abilities which the House could boast. But he believed they laboured under one, which was worse and for which no talents could compensate; he meant the impossibility of maintaining their ground fairly on any of those principles, which every man within those walls had been accustomed, from his infancy, to venerate as sacred. He and his friends, too, laboured under some disadvantages. They had been charged with fanaticism. But what had Mr. Long said, when he addressed himself to those planters, who were desirous of attempting improvements on their estates? He advised them "not to be diverted by partial views, vulgar prejudices, or the ridicule which might spring from weak minds, from a benevolent attention to the public good." But neither by these nor by other charges were he or his friends to be diverted from the prosecution of their purpose. They were convinced of the rectitude and high importance of their object; and were determined never to desist from pursuing it, till it should be attained. But they had to struggle with difficulties far more serious. The West Indian interest which opposed them, was a collected body; of great power, affluence, connexions, and respectability. Artifice had also been employed. Abolition and emancipation had been so often confounded, and by those who knew better, that it must have been purposely done, to throw an odium on the measure which was now before them. The abolitionists had been also accused as the authors of the late insurrection in Dominica. A revolt had certainly taken place in that island. But revolts there had occured frequently before. Mr. Stanley himself, in attempting to fix this charge upon them, had related circumstance which amounted to their entire exculpation. He had said that all was quiet there till the disturbances in the French islands; when some negroes from the latter had found their way to Dominica, and had excited the insurrection in question. He had also said, that the negroes in our own islands hated the idea of the abolition; for they thought, as no new labourers were to come in, they should be subjected to increased hardships. But if they and their masters hated this same measure, how was this coincidence of sentiment to give birth to insurrections? Other fallacies, also, had been industriously propogated. Of the African trade, it had been said, that the exports amounted to a million annually; whereas, from the report on the table, it had on an average amounted to little more than half a million; and this included the articles for the purchase of African produce which were of the value of 140,000_l._ The East Indian Trade, also, had been said to depend on the West Indian and the African. In the first place, it had but very little connexion with the former at all. Its connexion with the latter was principally on account of the saltpetre which it furnished for making gunpowder. Out of nearly three millions of pounds in weight of the latter article, which had been exported in a year from this country, one-half had been sent to Africa alone; for the purposes, doubtless, of maintaining peace, and encouraging civilization among its various tribes! Four or five thousand persons were said, also, to depend for their bread in manufacturing guns for the African trade; and these, it was pretended, could not make guns of another sort.--But where lay the difficulty?--One of the witnesses had unravelled it. He had seen the negroes maimed by the bursting of these guns. They killed more from the butt than from the muzzle. Another had stated, that on the sea-coast the natives were afraid to fire a trade-gun. In the West Indian commerce, two hundred and forty thousand tons of shipping were stated to be employed. But here deception intruded itself again. This statement included every vessel, great and small, which went from the British West Indies to America, and to the foreign islands; and what was yet more unfair, all the repeated voyages of each throughout the year. The shipping, which could only fairly be brought into this account, did but just exceed half that which had been mentioned. In a similar manner had the islands themselves been overrated. Their value had been computed, for the information of the privy council, at thirty-six millions; but the planters had estimated them at seventy. The truth, however, might possibly lie between these extremes. He by no means wished to depreciate their importance; but he did not like that such palpable misrepresentations should go unnoticed. An honourable member (Colonel Tarleton) had disclaimed every attempt to interest the feelings of those present, but had desired to call them to reason and accounts. He also desired (though it was a question of feeling, if any one ever was,) to draw the attention of the committee to reason and accounts--to the voice of reason instead of that of prejudice, and to accounts in the place of idle apprehensions. The result, he doubted not, would be a full persuasion, that policy and justice were inseparable upon this, as upon every other occasion. The same gentleman had enlarged on the injustice of depriving the Liverpool merchants of a business, on which were founded their honour and their fortunes. On what part of it they founded their honour he could not conjecture, except from those passages in the evidence, where it appeared, that their agents in Africa had systematically practised every fraud and villany, which the meanest and most unprincipled cunning could suggest, to impose on the ignorance of those with whom they traded. The same gentleman had also lamented, that the evidence had not been taken upon oath. He himself lamented it too. Numberless facts had been related by eye-witnesses, called in support of the abolition, so dreadfully atrocious, that they appeared incredible; and seemed rather, to use the expression of Ossian, like "the histories of the days of other times." These procured for the trade a species of acquittal, which it could not have obtained, had the committee been authorised to administer an oath. He apprehended, also, in this case, that some other persons would have been rather more guarded in their testimony. Captain Knox would not then perhaps have told the committee, that six hundred slaves could have had comfortable room at night in his vessel of about one hundred and forty tons; when there could have been no more than five feet six inches in length, and fifteen inches in breadth, to about two-thirds of his number. The same gentleman had also dwelt upon the Slave Trade as a nursery for seamen. But it had appeared by the muster-rolls of the slave-vessels, then actually on the table of the house, that more than a fifth of them died in the service, exclusive of those who perished when discharged in the West Indies; and yet he had been instructed by his constituents to maintain this false position. His reasoning, too, was very curious; for, though numbers might die, yet as one half who entered were landsmen, seamen were continually forming. Not to dwell on the expensive cruelty of forming these seamen by the yearly destruction of so many hundreds, this very statement was flatly contradicted by the evidence. The muster-rolls from Bristol stated the proportion of landsmen in the trade there at one twelfth, and the proper officers of Liverpool itself at but a sixteenth of the whole employed. In the face again of the most glaring facts, others had maintained that the mortality in these vessels did not exceed that of other trades in the tropical climates. But the same documents, which proved that twenty-three per cent were destroyed in this wasting traffic, proved that in West India ships only about one and a half per cent were lost, including every casualty. But the very men, under whose management this dreadful mortality had been constantly occurring, had coolly said, that much of it might be avoided by proper regulations. How criminal then were they, who, knowing this, had neither publicly proposed, nor in their practice adopted, a remedy! The average loss of the slaves on board, which had been calculated by Mr. Wilberforce at twelve and a half per cent., had been denied. He believed this calculation, taking in all the circumstances connected with it, to be true; but that for years not less than one-tenth had so perished, he would challenge those concerned in the traffic to disprove. Much evidence had been produced on the subject; but the voyages had been generally selected. There was only one who had disclosed the whole account. This was Mr. Anderson of London, whose engagements in this trade had been very inconsiderable. His loss had only amounted to three per cent.; but, unfortunately for the slave-traders of Liverpool, his vessel had not taken above three-fourths of that number in proportion to the tonnage which they had stated to be necessary to the very existence of their trade. An honourable member (Mr. Grosvenor) had attributed the protraction of this business to those who had introduced it. But from whom did the motion for further evidence (when that of the privy council was refused) originate, but from the enemies of the abolition? The same gentleman had said, it was impossible to abolish the trade; but where was the impossibility of forbidding the further importation of slaves into our own colonies? and beyond this the motion did not extend. The latter argument had also been advanced by Sir William Yonge and others. But allowing it its full force, would there be no honour in the dereliction of such a commerce? Would it be nothing publicly to recognise great and just principles? Would our example be nothing!--Yes: every country would learn, from our experiment, that American colonies could be cultivated without the necessity of continual supplies equally expensive and disgraceful. But we might do more than merely lay down principles or propose examples. We might, in fact, diminish the evil itself immediately by no inconsiderable part,--by the whole of our own supply; and here he could not at all agree with the honourable baronet, in what seemed to him a commercial paradox, that the taking away from an open trade by far the largest customer, and the lessening of the consumption of the article, would increase both the competition and the demand, and of course all those mischiefs, which it was their intention to avert. That the civilization of the Africans was promoted, as had been asserted, by their intercourse with the Europeans, was void of foundation, as had appeared from the evidence. In manners and dishonesty they had indeed assimilated with those who frequented their coasts. But the greatest industry and the least corruption of morals were in the interior, where they were out of the way of this civilizing connexion. To relieve Africa from famine, was another of the benign reasons which had been assigned for continuing the trade. That famines had occurred there, he did not doubt; but that they should annually occur, and with such arithmetical exactness as to suit the demands of the Slave Trade, was a circumstance most extraordinary; so wonderful, indeed, that, could it once be proved, he should consider it as a far better argument in favour of the divine approbation of that trade, than any which had ever yet been produced. As to the effect of the abolition on the West Indies, it would give weight to every humane regulation which had been made; by substituting a certain and obvious interest, in the place of one depending upon chances and calculation. An honourable member (Mr. Stanley) had spoken of the impossibility of cultivating the estates there without further importations of negroes; and yet, of all the authorities he had brought to prove his case, there was scarcely one which might not be pressed to serve more or less effectually against him. Almost every planter he had named had found his negroes increase under the good treatment he had professed to give them; and it was an axiom, throughout the whole evidence, that, wherever they were well used, importations were not necessary. It had been said, indeed, by some adverse witnesses, that in Jamaica all possible means had been used to keep up the stock by breeding; but how preposterous was this, when it was allowed that the morals of the slaves had been totally neglected, and that the planters preferred buying a larger proportion of males than females! The misfortune was, that prejudice, and not reason, was the enemy to be subdued. The prejudices of the West Indians on these points were numerous and inveterate. Mr. Long himself had characterised them on this account, in terms which he should have felt diffident in using. But Mr. Long had shown his own prejudices also: for he justified the chaining of the Negroes on board the slave-vessels, on account of "their bloody, cruel, and malicious dispositions." But hear his commendation of some of the Aborigines of Jamaica, "who had miserably perished in caves, whither they had retired to escape the tyranny of the Spaniards. These," says he, "left a glorious monument of their having disdained to survive the loss of their liberty and their country." And yet this same historian could not perceive that this natural love of liberty might operate as strongly and as laudably in the African Negro, as in the Indian of Jamaica. He was concerned to acknowledge that these prejudices were yet further strengthened by resentment against those who had taken an active part in the abolition of the Slave Trade. But it was never the object of these to throw a stigma on the whole body of the West Indians; but to prove the miserable effects of the trade. This it was their duty to do; and if, in doing this, disgraceful circumstances had come out, it was not their fault; and it must never be forgotten that they were true. That the slaves were exposed to great misery in the islands, was true as well from inference as from facts: for what might not be expected from the use of arbitrary power, where the three characters of party, judge, and executioner were united! The slaves, too, were more capable on account of their passions, than the beasts in the field, of exciting the passions of their tyrants. To what a length the ill-treatment of them might be carried, might be learnt from, the instance which General Tottenham mentioned to have seen in the year 1780 in the streets of Bridge Town, Barbados: "A youth about nineteen (to use his own words in the evidence), entirely naked, with an iron collar about his neck, having five long projecting spikes. His body both before and behind was covered with wounds. His belly and thighs were almost cut to pieces, with running ulcers all over them; and a finger might have been laid in some of the weals. He could not sit down, because his hinder part was mortified; and it was impossible for him to lie down, on account of the prongs of his collar." He supplicated the General for relief. The latter asked who had punished him so dreadfully? The youth answered, his master had done it. And because he could not work, this same master, in the same spirit of perversion, which extorts from Scripture a justification of the Slave Trade, had fulfilled the apostolic maxim, that he should have nothing to eat. The use he meant to make of this instance was to show the unprotected state of the slaves. What must it be, where such an instance could pass not only unpunished, but almost unregarded! If, in the streets of London, but a dog were to be seen lacerated like this miserable man, how would the cruelty of the wretch be execrated, who had thus even abused a brute! The judicial punishments also inflicted upon the Negro showed the low estimation, in which, in consequence of the strength of old customs and deep-rooted prejudices, they were held. Mr. Edwards, in his speech to the Assembly at Jamaica, stated the following case, as one which had happened in one of the rebellions there. Some slaves surrounded the dwelling-house of their mistress. She was in bed with a lovely infant. They deliberated upon the means of putting her to death in torment. But in the end one of them reserved her for his mistress; and they killed her infant with an axe before her face. "Now," says Mr. Edwards, (addressing himself to his audience) "you will think that no torments were too great for such horrible excesses. Nevertheless I am of a different opinion. I think that death, unaccompanied with cruelty, should be the utmost exertion of human authority over our unhappy fellow-creatures." Torments, however, were always inflicted in these cases. The punishment was gibbeting alive, and exposing the delinquents to perish by the gradual effects of hunger, thirst, and parching sun; in which situation they were known to suffer for nine days, with a fortitude scarcely credible, never uttering a single groan. But horrible as the excesses might have been, which occasioned these punishments, it must be remembered, that they were committed by ignorant savages, who had been dragged from all they held most dear; whose patience had been exhausted by a cruel and loathsome confinement during their transportation; and whose resentment had been wound up to the highest pitch of fury by the lash of the driver. But he would now mention another instance, by way of contrast, out of the evidence. A child on board a slave-ship, of about ten months old, took sulk and would not eat. The captain flogged it with a cat; swearing that he would make it eat, or kill it. From this and other ill-treatment the child's legs swelled. He then ordered some water to be made hot to abate the swelling. But even his tender mercies were cruel; for the cook, on putting his hand into the water, said it was too hot. Upon this the captain swore at him, and ordered the feet to be put in. This was done. The nails and skin came off. Oiled cloths were then put round them. The child was at length tied to a heavy log. Two or three days afterwards, the captain caught it up again; and repeated that he would made it eat, or kill it. He immediately flogged it again, and in a quarter of an hour it died. But, after the child was dead, whom should the barbarian select to throw it overboard, but the wretched mother? In vain she started from the office. He beat her, till he made her take up the child and carry it to the side of the vessel. She then dropped it into the sea, turning her head the other way that she might not see it. Now it would naturally be asked, was not this captain also gibbeted alive? Alas! although the execrable barbarity of the European exceeded that of the Africans before mentioned, almost as much as his opportunities of instruction has been greater than theirs, no notice whatsoever was taken of this horrible action; and a thousand similar cruelties had been committed in this abominable trade with equal impunity: but he would say no more. He would vote for the abolition, not only as it would do away all the evils complained of in Africa and the Middle Passage; but as it would be the most effectual means of ameliorating the condition of those unhappy persons, who were still to continue slaves in the British colonies. Mr. Courtenay rose. He said, he could not but consider the assertion of Sir William Yonge as a mistake, that the Slave Trade, if abandoned by us, would fall into the hands of France. It ought to be recollected, with what approbation the motion for abolishing it, made by the late Mirabeau, had been received; although the situation of the French colonies might then have presented obstacles to carrying the measure into immediate execution. He had no doubt, if parliament were to begin, so wise and enlightened a body as the National Assembly would follow the example. But even if France were not to relinquish the trade, how could we, if justice required its abolition, hesitate as to our part of it? The trade, it had been said, was conducted upon the principles of humanity. Yes: we rescued the Africans from what we were pleased to call their wretched situation in their own; country, and then we took credit for our humanity; because, after having killed one half of them in the seasoning, we substituted what we were again pleased to call a better treatment than that which they would have experienced at home. It had been stated that the principle of war among savages was a general massacre. This was not true. They frequently adopted the captives into their own families; and, so far from massacring the women and children, they often gave them the protection which the weakness of their age and sex demanded. There could be no doubt, that the practice of kidnapping; prevailed in Africa. As to witchcraft, it had been made a crime in the reign of James the First in this country, for the purpose of informations; and how much more likely were informations to take place in Africa, under the encouragement afforded by the Slave Trade! This trade, it had been said, was sanctioned by twenty-six acts of parliament. He did not doubt but fifty-six might be found, by which parliament had sanctioned witchcraft of the existence of which we had now no belief whatever.... It had been said by Mr. Stanley that the pulpit had been used as an instrument of attack on the Slave Trade. He was happy to learn it had been so well employed; and he hoped the Bishops would rise up in the House of Lords, with the virtuous indignation which became them, to abolish a traffic so contrary to humanity, justice, and religion. He entreated every member to recollect, that on his vote that night depended the happiness of millions; and that it was then in his power to promote a measure, of which the benefits would be felt over one whole quarter of the globe; that the seeds of civilization might, by the present bill, be sown all over Africa: and the first principles of humanity be established in regions where they had hitherto been excluded by the existence of this execrable trade. Lord Carysfort rose, and said, that the great cause of the abolition had flourished by the manner in which it had been opposed. No one argument of solid weight had been adduced against it. It had been shown, but never disproved, that the colonial laws were inadequate to the protection of the slaves; that the punishments of the latter were most unmerciful; that they were deprived of the right of self-defence against any White man; and, in short, that the system was totally repugnant to the principles of the British constitution. Colonel Phipps followed Lord Carysfort. He denied that this was a question in which the rights of humanity and the laws of nature were concerned. The Africans became slaves in consequence of the constitution of their own governments. These were founded in absolute despotism. Every subject was an actual slave. The inhabitants were slaves to the great men, and the great men were slaves to the prince. Prisoners of war, too, were by law subject to slavery. Such being the case, he saw no more cruelty in disposing of them to our merchants, than to those of any other nation. Criminals, also, in cases of adultery and witchcraft, became slaves by the same laws. It had been said, that there were no regulations in the West Indies for the protection of slaves. There were several; though he was ready to admit that more were necessary; and he would go in this respect as far as humanity might require. He had passed ten months in Jamaica, where he had never seen any such acts of cruelty as had been talked of. Those which he had seen were not exercised by the Whites, but by the Blacks. The dreadful stories which had been told, ought no more to fix a general stigma upon the planters, than the story of Mrs. Brownrigg to stamp this polished metropolis with the general brand of murder. There was once a haberdasher's wife (Mrs. Nairne) who locked up her apprentice girl, and starved her to death; but did ever any body think of abolishing haberdashery on this account? He was persuaded the Negroes in the West Indies were cheerful and happy. They were fond of ornaments; but it was not the characteristic of miserable persons to show a taste for finery. Such a taste, on the contrary, implied a cheerful and contented mind. He was sorry to differ from his friend Mr. Wilberforce, but he must oppose his motion. Mr. Pitt rose, and said, that from the first hour of his having had the honour to sit in parliament down to the present, among all the questions, whether political or personal, in which it had been his fortune to take a share, there had never been one in which his heart was so deeply interested as in the present; both, on account of the serious principles it involved, and the consequences connected with it. The present was not a mere question of feeling. The argument, which ought, in his opinion, to determine the committee, was, that the Slave Trade was unjust. It was, therefore, such a trade as it was impossible for him to support, unless it could be first proved to him, that there were no laws of morality binding upon nations; and that it was not the duty of a legislature to restrain its subjects, from invading the happiness of other countries, and from violating; the fundamental principles of justice. Several had stated the impracticability of the measure before them. They wished to see the trade abolished; but there was some necessity for continuing it, which they conceived to exist. Nay, almost every, one, he believed, appeared to wish that the further importation of slaves might cease, provided, it could be made out that, the population of the West Indies could be maintained without it. He proposed, therefore, to consider the latter point; for, as the impracticability of keeping up the population there appeared to operate as the chief objection, he trusted that, by showing it to be ill founded, he should clear away all other obstacles whatever; so that, having no ground either of justice or necessity to stand upon, there could be no excuse left to the committee for resisting the present motion. He might reasonably, however, hope that they would not reckon any small or temporary disadvantage, which might arise from the abolition, to be a sufficient reason against it. It was surely not any slight degree of expediency, nor any small balance of profit, nor any light shades of probability on the one side, rather than on the other, which would determine them on this question. He asked pardon even for the supposition. The Slave Trade was an evil of such magnitude, that there must be a common wish in the committee at once to put an end to it, if there were no great and serious obstacles. It was a trade, by which multitudes of unoffending nations were deprived of the blessings of civilization, and had their peace and happiness invaded. It ought, therefore, to be no common expediency, it ought to be nothing less than the utter ruin of our islands, which it became those to plead, who took upon them to defend the continuance of it. He could not help thinking that the West India gentlemen had manifested an over great degree of sensibility as to the point in question; and that their alarms had been unreasonably excited upon it. He had examined the subject carefully for himself: and he would now detail those reasons, which had induced him firmly to believe, not only that no permanent mischief would follow from the abolition, but not even any such temporary inconvenience as could be stated to be a reason for preventing the House from agreeing to the motion before them; on the contrary, that the abolition itself would lay the foundation for the more solid improvement of all the various interests of those colonies. In doing this he should apply his observations chiefly to Jamaica, which contained more than half the slaves in the British West Indies; and if he should succeed in proving that no material detriment could arise to the population there, this would afford so strong a presumption with respect to the other islands, that the House could no longer hesitate whether they should, or should not, put a stop to this most horrid trade. In the twenty years ending in 1788, the annual loss of slaves in Jamaica (that is, the excess of deaths above the births,) appeared to be one in the hundred. In a preceding period the loss was greater; and, in a period before that greater still; there having been a continual gradation in the decrease through the whole time. It might fairly be concluded, therefore, that (the average logs of the last period being one per cent.) the loss in the former part of it would be somewhat more, and in the latter part somewhat less, than one per cent; insomuch that it might be fairly questioned, whether, by this time, the births and deaths in Jamaica might not be stated as nearly equal. It was to be added, that a peculiar calamity, which swept away fifteen thousand slaves, had occasioned a part of the mortality in the last-mentioned period. The probable loss, therefore, now to be expected, was very inconsiderable indeed. There was, however, one circumstance to be added, which the West India gentlemen, in stating this matter, had entirely overlooked; and which was so material, as clearly to reduce the probable diminution in the population of Jamaica down to nothing. In all the calculations he had referred to of the comparative number of births and deaths, all the Negroes in the island were included. The newly imported, who died in the seasoning, made apart; but these swelled, most materially, the number of the deaths. Now, as these extraordinary deaths would cease, as soon as the importation ceased, a deduction of them ought to be made from his present calculation. But the number of those, who thus died in the seasoning, would make up of itself nearly the whole of that one per cent. which had been stated. He particularly pressed an attention to this circumstance; for the complaint of being likely to want hands in Jamaica, arose from the mistake of including the present unnatural deaths, caused by the seasoning, among the natural and perpetual muses of mortality. These deaths, being erroneously taken into the calculations, gave the planters an idea that the numbers could not be kept up. These deaths, which were caused merely by the Slave Trade, furnished the very ground, therefore, on which the continuance of that trade had been thought necessary. The evidence as to this point was clear; for it would be found in that dreadful catalogue of deaths, arising from the seasoning and the passage, which the House had been condemned to look into, that one half died. An annual mortality of two thousand slaves in Jamaica might be therefore charged to the importation; which, compared with the whole number on the island, hardly fell short of the whole one per cent. decrease. Joining this with all the other considerations, he would then ask, could the decrease of the slaves in Jamaica be such--could the colonies be so destitute of means--could the planters, when by their own accounts they were establishing daily new regulations for the benefit of the slaves--could they, under all these circumstances, be permitted to plead that total impossibility of keeping up their number, which they had rested on, as being indeed the only possible pretext for allowing fresh importations from Africa? He appealed, therefore, to the sober judgment of all, whether the situation of Jamaica was such, as to justify a hesitation in agreeing to the present motion. It might be observed, also, that, when the importations should stop, that disproportion between the sexes, which was one of the obstacles to population, would gradually diminish; and a natural order of things be established. Through the want of this natural order, a thousand grievances were created, which it was impossible to define; and which it was in vain to think that, under such circumstances, we could cure. But the abolition, of itself, would work this desirable effect. The West Indians would then feel a near and urgent interest to enter into a thousand little details, which it was impossible for him to describe, but which would have the greatest influence on population. A foundation would thus be laid for the general welfare of the islands; a new system would rise up, the reverse of the old; and eventually both their general wealth and happiness would increase. He had now proved far more than he was bound to do; for, if he could only show that the abolition would not be ruinous, it would be enough. He could give up, therefore, three arguments out of four, through the whole of what he had said, and yet have enough left for his position. As to the Creoles, they would undoubtedly increase. They differed in this entirely from the imported slaves, who were both a burthen and a curse to themselves and others. The measure now proposed would operate like a charm; and, besides stopping all the miseries in Africa and the passage, would produce even more benefit in the West Indies than legal regulations could effect. He would now just touch upon the question of emancipation. A rash emancipation of the slaves would be mischievous. In that unhappy situation, to which our baneful conduct had brought ourselves and them, it would be no justice on either side to give them liberty. They were as yet incapable of it; but their situation might be gradually amended. They might be relieved from everything harsh and severe; raised from their present degraded state; and put under the protection of the law. Till then, to talk of emancipation was insanity. But it was the system of fresh importations, which interfered with these principles of improvement; and it was only the abolition which could establish them. This suggestion had its foundation in human nature. Wherever the incentive of honour, credit, and fair profit appeared, energy would spring up; and when these labourers should have the natural springs of human action afforded them, they would then rise to the natural level of human industry. From Jamaica he would now go to the other islands. In Barbadoes the slaves had rather increased. In St. Kitts the decrease for fourteen years had been but three-fourths per cent.; but here many of the observations would apply, which he had used in the case of Jamaica. In Antigua many had died by a particular calamity. But for this, the decrease would have been trifling. In Nevis and Montserrat there was little or no disproportion of the sexes; so that it might well be hoped, that the numbers would be kept up in these islands. In Dominica some controversy had arisen about the calculation; but Governor Orde had stated an increase of births above the deaths. From Grenada and St. Vincent's no accurate accounts had been delivered in answer to the queries sent them; but they were probably not in circumstances less favourable than in the other islands. On a full review, then, of the state of the Negro population in the West Indies, was there any serious ground of alarm from the abolition of the Slave Trade? Where was the impracticability, on which alone so many had rested their objections? Must we not blush at pretending, that it would distress our consciences to accede to this measure, as far as the question of the Negro population was concerned? Intolerable were the mischiefs of this trade, both in its origin, and through every stage of its progress. To say that slaves could be furnished us by fair and commercial means was ridiculous. The trade sometimes ceased, as during the late war. The demand was more or less according to circumstances. But how was it possible, that to a demand so exceedingly fluctuating the supply should always exactly accommodate itself? Alas! We made human beings the subject of commerce; we talked of them as such; and yet we would not allow them the common principle of commerce, that the supply must accommodate itself to the consumption. It was not from wars, then, that the slaves were chiefly procured. They were obtained in proportion as they were wanted. If a demand for slaves arose, a supply was forced in one way or other; and it was in vain, overpowered as we then were with positive evidence, as well as the reasonableness of the supposition, to deny that by the Slave Trade we occasioned all the enormities which had been alleged against it. Sir William Yonge had said, that if we were not to take the Africans from their country, they would be destroyed. But he had not yet read that all uncivilized nations destroyed their captives. We assumed, therefore, what was false. The very selling of them implied this; for, if they would sell their captives for profit, why should they not employ them so as to receive a profit also? Nay, many of them, while there was no demand from the slave merchants, were often actually so employed. The trade, too, had been suspended during the war; and it was never said, or thought, that any such consequence had then followed. The honourable baronet had also said, to justification of the Slave Trade, that witchcraft commonly implied poison, and was therefore a punishable crime; but did he recollect that not only the individual accused, but that his whole family, were sold as slaves? The truth was, we stopped the natural progress of civilization in Africa. We cut her off from the opportunity of improvement. We kept her down in a state of darkness, bondage, ignorance, and bloodshed. Was not this an awful consideration for this country? Look at the map of Africa, and see how little useful intercourse had been established on that vast continent! While other countries were assisting and enlightening each other, Africa alone had none of these benefits. We had obtained as yet only so much knowledge of her productions, as to show that there was a capacity for trade, which we checked. Indeed, if the mischiefs there were out of the question, the circumstance of the Middle Passage alone would, in his mind, be reason enough for the abolition. Such a scene as that of the slave-ships passing over with their wretched cargoes to the West Indies, if it could be spread before the eyes of the House, would be sufficient of itself to make them vote in favour of it; but when it could be added, that the interest even of the West Indies themselves rested on the accomplishment of this great event, he could not conceive an act of more imperious duty, than that which was imposed upon the House, of agreeing to the present motion. Sir Archibald Edmonstone rose, and asked whether the present motion went so far as to pledge those who voted for it to a total and immediate abolition. Mr. Alderman Watson rose next. He defended the Slave Trade as highly beneficial to the country, being one material branch of its commerce. But he could not think of the African trade without connecting it with the West Indian. The one hung upon the other. A third important branch also depended upon it, which was the Newfoundland fishery; the latter could not go on, if it were not for the vast quantity of inferior fish bought up for the Negroes in the West Indies, and which quite unfit for any other market. If, therefore, we destroyed the African, we destroyed the other trades. Mr. Turgot, he said, had recommended in the National Assembly of France the gradual abolition of the Slave Trade. He would, therefore, recommend it to the House to adopt the same measure, and to soften the rigours of slavery by wholesome regulations; but an immediate abolition he could not countenance. Mr. Fox at length rose. He observed that some expressions which he had used on the preceding day, had been complained of as too harsh and severe. He had since considered them, but he could not prevail upon himself to retract them; because, if any gentleman, after reading the evidence on the table, and attending to the debate, could avow himself an abettor of this shameful traffic in human flesh, it could only be either from some hardness of heart, or some difficulty of understanding, which he really knew not how to account for. Some had considered this question as a question of political, whereas, it was a question of personal, freedom. Political freedom was undoubtedly a great blessing; but when it came to be compared with personal, it sunk to nothing. To confound the two, served, therefore, to render all arguments on either perplexing and unintelligible. Personal freedom was the first right of every human being. It was a right, of which he who deprived a fellow-creature was absolutely criminal in so depriving him, and which he who withheld was no less criminal in withholding. He could not, therefore, retract his words with respect to any, who (whatever respect he might otherwise have for them) should, by their vote of that night, deprive their fellow-creatures of so great a blessing. Nay, he would go further. He would say, that if the House, knowing what the trade was by the evidence, did not, by their vote, mark to all mankind their abhorrence of a practice so savage, so enormous, so repugnant to all laws human and divine, they would consign their character to eternal infamy. That the pretence of danger to our West Indian islands from the abolition of the Slave Trade was totally unfounded, Mr. Wilberforce had abundantly proved; but if there were they who had not been satisfied with that proof, was it possible to resist the arguments of Mr. Pitt on the same subject? It had been shown, on a comparison of the births and deaths in Jamaica, that there was not now any decrease of the slaves. But if there had been, it would have made no difference to him in his vote; for, had the mortality been ever so great there, he should have ascribed it to the system of importing Negroes, instead of that of encouraging their natural increase. Was it not evident that the planters thought it more convenient to buy them fit for work, than to breed them? Why, then, was this horrid trade to be kept up?--To give the planters truly the liberty of misusing their slaves, so as to check population: for it was from ill-usage only that, in a climate so natural to them, their numbers could diminish. The very ground, therefore, on which the planters rested the necessity of fresh importations, namely, the destruction of lives in the West Indies, was itself the strongest argument that could be given, and furnished the most imperious call upon parliament for the abolition of the trade. Against this trade innumerable were the charges. An honourable member, Mr. Smith, had done well to introduce those tragical stories which had made such an impression upon the House. No one of these had been yet controverted. It had, indeed, been said; that the cruelty of the African captain to the child was too bad to be true; and we had been desired to look at the cross-examination of the witness, as if we should find traces of the falsehood in his testimony there. But his cross-examination was peculiarly honourable to his character; for, after he had been pressed in the closest manner by some able members of the House, the only inconsistency they could fix upon him was, whether the fact had happened on the same day of the same month of the year 1764 or the year 1765. But it was idle to talk of the incredibility of such instances. It was not denied that absolute power was exercised by the slave-captains; and if this was granted, all the cruelties charged upon them would naturally follow. Never did he hear of charges so black and horrible as those contained in the evidence on the table. They unfolded such a scene of cruelty, that if the House, with all their present knowledge of the circumstances, should dare to vote for its continuance, they must have nerves of which he had no conception. We might find instances, indeed, in history, of men violating the feelings of nature on extraordinary occasions. Fathers had sacrificed their sons and daughters, and husbands their wives; but to imitate their characters, we ought to have not only nerves as strong as the two Brutuses, but to take care that we had a cause as good; or that we had motives for such a dereliction of our feelings as patriotic as those which historians had annexed to these when they handed them to the notice of the world. But what was our motive in the case before us?--to continue a trade which was a wholesale sacrifice of a whole order and race of our fellow-creatures, which carried them away by force from their native country, in order to subject them to the mere will and caprice, the tyranny and oppression of other human beings, for their whole natural lives, them and their posterity for ever!! O most monstrous wickedness! O unparalleled barbarity! And, what was more aggravating, this most complicated scene of robbery and murder which mankind had ever witnessed, had been honoured by the name of trade. That a number of human beings should be at all times ready to be furnished as fair articles of commerce, just as our occasions might require, was absurd. The argument of Mr. Pitt on this head was unanswerable. Our demand was fluctuating: it entirely ceased at some times: at others it was great and pressing. How was it possible, on every sudden call, to furnish a sufficient return in slaves, without resorting to those execrable means of obtaining them, which were stated in the evidence? These were of three sorts, and he would now examine them. Captives in war, it was urged, were consigned either to death or slavery. This, however, he believed to be false in point of fact. But suppose it were true; did it not become us, with whom it was a custom, founded in the wisest policy, to pay the captives a peculiar respect and civility, to inculcate the same principles in Africa? But we were so far from doing this, that we encouraged wars for the sake of taking, not men's goods and possessions, but men themselves; and it was not the war which was the cause of the Slave Trade, but the Slave Trade which was the cause of the war. It was the practice of the slave-merchants to try to intoxicate the African kings in order to turn them to their purpose. A particular instance occurred in the evidence of a prince, who, when sober, resisted their wishes; but in the moment of inebriety he gave the word for war, attacked the next village, and sold the inhabitants to the merchants. The second mode was kidnapping. He referred the House to various instances of this in the evidence: but there was one in particular, from which we might immediately infer the frequency of the practice. A black trader had kidnapped a girl and sold her; but he was presently afterwards kidnapped and sold himself; and, when he asked the captain who bought him, "What! do you buy me, who am a great trader?" the only answer was, "Yes, I will buy you, or her, or anybody else, provided any one will sell you;" and accordingly both the trader and the girl were carried to the West Indies, and sold for slaves. The third mode of obtaining slaves was by crimes committed or imputed. One of these was adultery. But was Africa the place, where Englishmen, above all others, were to go to find out and punish adultery? Did it become us to cast the first stone? It was a most extraordinary pilgrimage for a most extraordinary purpose! And yet upon this plea we justified our right of carrying off its inhabitants. The offence alleged next was witchcraft. What a reproach it was to lend ourselves to this superstition!--Yes: we stood by; we heard the trial; we knew the crime to be impossible; and that the accused must be innocent: but we waited in patient silence for his condemnation; and then we lent our friendly aid to the police of the country, by buying the wretched convict, with all his family; whom, for the benefit of Africa, we carried away also into perpetual slavery. With respect to the situation of the slaves in their transportation, he knew not how to give the House a more correct idea of the horrors of it, than by referring them to the printed section of the slave-ship; where the eye might see what the tongue must fall short in describing. On this dismal part of the subject he would not dwell. He would only observe, that the acts of barbarity, related of the slave-captains in these voyages, were so extravagant, that they had been attributed in some instances to insanity. But was not this the insanity of arbitrary power? Who ever read the facts recorded of Nero without suspecting he was mad? Who would not be apt to impute insanity to Caligula--or Domitian--or Caracalla--or Commodus--or Heliogabalus? Here were six Roman emperors, not connected in blood, nor by descent, who, each of them, possessing arbitrary power, had been so distinguished for cruelty, that nothing short of insanity could be imputed to them. Was not the insanity of the masters of slave-ships to be accounted for on the same principles? Of the slaves in the West Indies it had been said, that they were taken from a worse state to a better. An honourable member, Mr. W. Smith, had quoted some instances out of the evidence to the contrary. He also would quote one or two others. A slave under hard usage had run away. To prevent a repetition of the offence his owner sent for his surgeon, and desired him to cut off the man's leg. The surgeon refused. The owner, to render it a matter of duty in the surgeon, broke it. "Now," says he, "you must cut it off; or the man will die." We might console ourselves, perhaps, that this happened in a French island; but he would select another instance, which had happened in one of our own. Mr. Ross heard the shrieks of a female issuing from an out-house; and so piercing, that he determined to me what was going on. On looking in he perceived a young female tied up to a beam by her wrists, entirely naked, and in the act of involuntary writhing and swinging; while the author of her torture was standing below her with a lighted torch in his hand, which he applied to all the parts of her body as it approached him. What crime this miserable woman had perpetrated he knew not; but the human mind could not conceive a crime warranting such a punishment. He was glad to see that these tales affected the House. Would they then sanction enormities, the bare recital of which made them shudder? Let them remember that humanity did not consist in a squeamish ear. It did not consist in shrinking and starting at such tales as these; but in a disposition of the heart to remedy the evils they unfolded. Humanity belonged rather to the mind than to the nerves. But, if so, it should prompt men to charitable exertion. Such exertion was necessary in the present case. It was necessary for the credit of our jurisprudence at home, and our character abroad. For what would any man think of our justice, who should see another hanged for a crime, which would be innocence itself, if compared with those enormities, which were allowed in Africa and the West Indies under the sanction of the British parliament? It had been said, however, in justification of the trade, that the Africans were less happy at home than in the Islands. But what right had we to be judges of their condition? They would tell us a very different tale, if they were asked. But it was ridiculous to say, that we bettered their condition, when we dragged them from everything dear in life to the most abject state of slavery. One argument had been used, which for a subject so grave was the most ridiculous he had ever heard. Mr. Alderman Watson had declared the Slave Trade to be necessary on account of its connexion with our fisheries. But what was this but an acknowledgment of the manner, in which these miserable beings, were treated? The trade was to be kept up, with all its enormities, in order that there might be persons to consume the refuse fish from Newfoundland, which was too bad for anybody else to eat. It had been said that England ought not to abolish the Slave Trade, unless other nations would also give it up. But what kind of morality was this? The Trade was defensible upon no other principle than that of a highwayman. Great Britain could not keep it upon these terms. Mere gain was not a motive for a great country to rest on, as a justification of any measure. Honour was its superior; and justice was superior to honour. With regard to the emancipation of those in slavery, he coincided with Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Pitt; and upon this principle, that it might be as dangerous to give freedom at once to a man used to slavery, as, in the case of a man who had never seen day-light, to expose him all at once to the full glare of a meridian sun. With respect to the intellect and sensibility of the Africans, it was pride only, which suggested a difference between them and ourselves. There was a remarkable instance to the point in the evidence, and which he would quote. In one of the slave-ships was a person of consequence; a man, once high in a military station, and with a mind not insensible to the eminence of his rank. He had been taken captive and sold; and was then in the hold, confined promiscuously with the rest. Happening in the night to fall asleep, he dreamed that he was in his own country; high in honour and command; caressed by his family and friends; waited on by his domestics; and surrounded with all his former comforts in life. But awaking suddenly, and finding where he was, he was heard to burst into the loudest groans and lamentations on the miserable contrast of his present state; mixed with the meanest of his subjects; and subjected to the insolence of wretches a thousand times lower than himself in every kind of endowment. He appealed to the House, whether this was not as moving a picture of the miserable effects of the Slave Trade, as could be well imagined. There was one way, by which they might judge of it. Let them make the case their own. This was the Christian rule of judging; and, having mentioned Christianity, he was sorry to find that any should suppose, that it had given countenance to such a system of oppression. So far was this from being the case, that he thought it one of the most splendid triumphs of this religion, that it had caused slavery to be so generally abolished on its appearance in the world. It had done this by teaching us, among other beautiful precepts, that, in the sight of their Maker, all mankind were equal. Its influence appeared to have been more powerful in this respect than that of all the ancient systems of philosophy; though even in these, in point of theory, we might trace great liberality and consideration for human rights. Where could be found finer sentiments of liberty than in Demosthenes and Cicero? Where bolder assertions of the rights of mankind, than in Tacitus and Thucydides? But, alas! these were the holders of slaves: It was not so with those who had been converted to Christianity. He knew, however, that what he had been ascribing to Christianity had been imputed by others to the advances which philosophy had made. Each of the two parties took the merit to itself. The philosopher gave it to philosophy, and the divine to religion. He should not, then, dispute with either of them; but, as both coveted the praise, why should they not emulate each other by promoting this improvement in the condition of the human race? He would now conclude by declaring, that the whole country, indeed the whole civilized world, must rejoice that such a bill as the present had been moved for, not merely as a matter of humanity, but as an act of justice; for he would put humanity out of the case. Could it be called humanity to forbear committing murder? Exactly upon this ground did the motion stand; being strictly a question of national justice. He thanked Mr. Wilberforce for having pledged himself so strongly to pursue his object till it was accomplished; and, as for himself, he declared, that, in whatever situation he might ever be, he would use his warmest efforts for the promotion of this righteous cause. Mr. Stanley (the member for Lancashire) rose, and declared that, when he came into the house, he intended to vote against the abolition; but that the impression made both on his feelings and on his understanding was such, that he could not persist in his resolution. He was now convinced that the entire abolition of the Slave Trade was called for equally by sound policy and justice. He thought it right and fair to avow manfully this change in his opinion. The abolition, ho was sure, could not long fail of being carried. The arguments for it were irresistible. The Honourable Mr. Ryder said that he came to the house not exactly in the same circumstances as Mr. Stanley, but very undecided on the subject. He was, however, so strongly convinced by the arguments he had heard, that he was become equally earnest for the abolition. Mr. Smith (member for Pontefract) said, that he should not trouble the House, at so late an hour, further than to enter his protest, in the most solemn manner, against this trade, which he considered as most disgraceful to the country, and contrary to all the principles of justice and religion. Mr. Sumner declared himself against the total, immediate, and unqualified abolition, which he thought would wound at least the prejudices of the West Indians, and might do mischief; but a gradual abolition should have his hearty support. Major Scott declared there was no member in the house, who would give a more independent vote upon this question than himself. He had no concern either in the African or West Indian trades; but in the present state of the finances of the country, he thought it would be a dangerous experiment to risk any one branch of our foreign commerce. As far as regulation would go, he would join in the measure. Mr. Burke said he would use but few words. He declared that he had for a long time had his mind drawn towards this great subject. He had even prepared a bill for the regulation of the trade, conceiving at that time that the immediate abolition of it was a thing hardly to be hoped for; but when he found that Mr. Wilberforce had seriously undertaken the work, and that his motion was for the abolition, which he approved much more than his own, he had burnt his papers; and made an offering of them in honour of this nobler proposition, much in the same manner as we read, that the curious books were offered up and burnt at the approach of the Gospel. He highly applauded the confessions of Mr. Stanley and Mr. Ryder. It would be a glorious tale for them to tell their constituents, that it was impossible for them, however prejudiced, if sent to hear, discussion in that House, to avoid surrendering up their hearts and judgments at the shrine of reason. Mr. Drake said, that he would oppose the abolition to the utmost. We had, by a want of prudent conduct, lost America. The House should be aware of being carried away by the meteors with which they had been dazzled. The leaders, it was true, were for the abolition; but the minor orators, the dwarfs, the pigmies, he trusted, would that night carry the question against them. The property of the West Indians was at stake; and, though men might be generous with their own property, they should not be so with the property of others. Lord Sheffield reprobated the overbearing language which had been used by some gentlemen towards others, who differed in opinion from them on a subject of so much difficulty as the present. He protested against a debate, in which he could trace nothing like reason; but, on the contrary, downright phrensy, raised perhaps by the most extraordinary eloquence. The abolition, as proposed, was impracticable. He denied the right of the legislature to pass a law for it. He warned the Chancellor of the Exchequer to beware of the day, on which the bill should pass, as the worst he had ever seen. Mr. Milnes declared, that he adopted all those expressions against the Slave Trade, which had been thought so harsh; and that the opinion of the noble lord had been turned in consequence of having become one of the members for Bristol. He quoted a passage from Lord Sheffield's pamphlet; and insisted that the separation of families in the West Indies, there complained of by himself, ought to have compelled him to take the contrary side of the question. Mr. Wilberforce made a short reply to some arguments in the course of the debate; after which, at half-past three in the morning, the House divided. There appeared for Mr. Wilberforce's motion eighty-eight, and against it one hundred and sixty-three; so that it was lost by a majority of seventy-five votes. By this unfavourable division the great contest, in which we had been so long engaged, was decided. We were obliged to give way to superior numbers. Our fall, however, grievous as it was, was rendered more tolerable by the circumstance of having been prepared to expect it. It was rendered more tolerable, also, by other considerations; for we had the pleasure of knowing, that we had several of the most distinguished characters in the kingdom, and almost all the splendid talents of the House of Commons[A], in our favour. We knew, too, that the question had not been carried against us either by evidence or by argument; but that we were the victims of the accidents and circumstances of the times. And as these considerations comforted us, when we looked forward to future operations on this great question, so we found great consolation as to the past, in believing, that, unless human constitutions were stronger than they really were, we could not have done more than we had done towards the furtherance of the cause. [Footnote A: It is a pity that no perfect list was ever made of this or of any other division in the House of Commons on this subject. I can give, however, the names of the following, members, as having voted for Mr. Wilberforce's motion at this time. Mr. Pitt, Lord Bayham, Mr. Duncombe, Mr. Fox, Lord Arden, Mr. Martin, Mr. Burke, Lord Carysfort, Mr. Milnes, Mr. Grey, Lord Muncaster, Mr. Steele, Mr. Windham, Lord Barnard, Mr. Coke, Mr. Sheridan, Lord North, Mr. Eliott, Mr. Whitbread, Lord Euston, Mr. Montagu, Mr. Courtenay, General Burgoyne, Mr. Bastard, Mr. Francis, Hon. R. Fitzpatrick, Mr. Stanley, Mr. Wilberforce, Sir William Dolben, Mr. Plumer, Mr. Ryder, Sir Henry Houghton, Mr. Beaufoy, Mr. William Smith, Sir Edward Lyttleton, Mr. I.H. Browne, Mr. John Smyth, Sir William Scott, Mr. G.N. Edwards, Mr. Robert Smith, Mr. Samuel Thornton, Mr. W.M. Pitt, Mr. Powys, Mr. Henry Thornton, Mr. Bankes, Lord Apsley, Mr. Robert Thornton, ] The committee for the abolition held a meeting soon after this our defeat. It was the most impressive I ever attended. The looks of all bespoke the feelings of their hearts. Little was said previously to the opening of the business; and, after it was opened, it was conducted with a kind of solemn dignity, which became the occasion. The committee, in the course of its deliberations, came to the following resolutions:-- That the thanks of this committee be respectfully given to the illustrious minority of the House of Commons, who lately stood forth the assertors of British justice and humanity, and the enemies of a traffic in the blood of man. That our acknowledgments are particularly due to William Wilberforce, Esq., for his unwearied exertions to remove this opprobrium of our national character; and to the right honourable William Pitt, and the right honourable Charles James Fox, for their virtuous and dignified co-operation in the same cause. That the solemn declarations of these gentlemen, and of Matthew Montagu and William Smith, Esqrs., that they will not relinquish, but with life, their struggle for the abolition of the Slave Trade, are not only highly honourable to themselves as Britons, as statesmen, and as Christians, but must eventually, as the light of evidence shall be more and more diffused, be seconded by the good wishes of every man not immediately interested in the continuance of that detestable commerce. And lastly, that anticipating the opposition they should have to sustain from persons trained to a familiarity with the rapine and desolation necessarily attendant on the Slave Trade, and sensible, also, of the prejudices which implicitly arise from long-established usages, this committee consider the late decision in the House of Commons as a delay, rather than a defeat. In addressing a free and enlightened nation on a subject, in which its justice, its humanity, and its wisdom are involved, they cannot despair of final success; and they do hereby, under an increasing conviction of the excellence of their cause, and in conformity to the distinguished examples before them, renew their firm protestation, that they will never desist from appealing to their countrymen, till the commercial intercourse with Africa shall cease to be polluted with the blood of its inhabitants. These resolutions were published, and they were followed by a suitable report. The committee, in order to strengthen themselves for the prosecution of their great work, elected Sir William Dolben, Bart., Henry Thornton, Lewis Alexander Grant, and Matthew Montagu, Esqrs., who were members of parliament, and Truman Harford, Josiah Wedgewood, jun., Esq., and John Clarkson, Esq., of the royal navy, as members of their own body; and they elected the Rev. Archdeacon Plymley (afterwards Corbett) an honorary and corresponding member, in consequence of the great services which he had rendered their cause in the shires of Hereford and Salop, and the adjacent counties of Wales. The several committees, established in the country, on receiving the resolutions and report as before mentioned, testified their sympathy in letters of condolence to that of London on the late melancholy occasion; and expressed their determination to support it as long as any vestiges of this barbarous traffic should remain. At length the session ended; and though, in the course of it, the afflicting loss of the general question had occurred, there was yet an attempt made by the abolitionists in parliament, which met with a better fate. The Sierra Leone Company received the sanction of the Legislature. The object of this institution was to colonize a small portion of the coast of Africa. They, who were to settle there, were to have no concern in the Slave Trade, but to discourage it as much as possible. They were to endeavour to establish a new species of commerce, and to promote cultivation in its neighborhood by free labour. The persons more generally fixed upon for colonists, were such Negroes, with their wives and families, as chose to abandon their habitations in Nova Scotia. These had followed the British arms in America; and had been settled there, as a reward for their services, by the British government. My brother, just mentioned to have been chosen a member of the committee, and who had essentially served the great cause of the abolition on many occasions, undertook a visit to Nova Scotia, to see if those in question were willing to undergo the change; and in that case to provide transports, and conduct them to Sierra Leone. This object he accomplished. He embarked more than eleven hundred persons in fifteen vessels, of all which he took the command. On landing them he became the first Governor of the new colony. Having laid the foundation of it, he returned to England; when a successor was appointed. From that time many unexpected circumstances, but particularly devastations by the French in the beginning of the war, took place, which contributed to ruin the trading company which was attached to it. It is pleasing, however, to reflect, that though the object of the institution, as far as mercantile profit was concerned, thus failed, the other objects belonging to it were promoted. Schools, places of worship, agriculture, and the habits of civilized life were established. Sierra Leone, therefore, now presents itself as the medium of civilization for Africa. And, in this latter point of view, it is worth all the treasure which has been lost in supporting it; for the Slave Trade, which was the great obstacle to this civilization, being now happily abolished, there is a metropolis, consisting of some hundreds of persons, from which may issue the seeds of reformation to this injured continent; and which, when sown, may be expected to grow into fruit without interruption. New schools may be transplanted from thence into the interior. Teachers, and travellers on discovery, may be sent from thence in various directions, who may return to it occasionally as to their homes. The natives, too, able now to travel in safety, may resort to it from various parts. They may see the improvements which are going on from time to time. They may send their children to it for education; and thus it may become the medium[A] of a great intercourse between England and Africa, to the benefit of each other. [Footnote A: To promote this desirable end an association took place last year, called The African Institution, under the patronage of the Duke of Gloucester, as president, and of the Mends to the African cause, particularly of such as were in parliament, and as belonged to the committee for the abolition of the Slave Trade.] CHAPTER XXVII. --Continuation from July 1791 to July 1792.--Author travels round the kingdom again; object of his journey.--People begin to leave off the use of sugar; to form committees; and to send petitions to Parliament.--Motion made in the House of Commons for the immediate abolition of the trade; Debates upon it; Abolition resolved upon, but not to commence till 1796.--Resolution taken to the Lords; latter determine upon hearing evidence; Evidence at length introduced; further hearing of it postponed to the next session. The defeat which we had just sustained, was a matter of great triumph to our opponents. When they considered the majority in the House of Commons in their favour, they viewed the resolutions of the committee, which have been detailed, as the last spiteful effort of a vanquished and dying animal, and they supposed that they had consigned the question to eternal sleep. The committee, however, were too deeply attached to the cause, vanquished as they were, to desert it; and they knew, also, too well the barometer of public feeling, and the occasion of its fluctuations, to despair. In the year 1787, the members of the House of Commons, as well as the people, were enthusiastic in behalf of the abolition of the trade. In the year 1788, the fair enthusiasm of the former began to fade. In 1789, it died. In 1790, prejudice started up as a noxious weed in its place. In 1791, this prejudice arrived at its growth. But to what were these changes owing? To delay; during which the mind, having been gradually led to the question as a commercial, had been gradually taken from it as a moral object. But it was possible to restore the mind to its proper place. Add to which, that the nation had never deserted the cause during this whole period. It is much to the honour of the English people, that they should have continued to feel for the existence of an evil which was so far removed from their sight. But at this moment their feelings began to be insupportable. Many of them resolved, as soon as parliament had rejected the bill, to abstain from the use of West Indian produce. In this state of things, a pamphlet, written by William Bell Crafton, of Tewksbury, and called _A Sketch of the Evidence, with a Recommendation on the Subject to the serious Attention of People in general_, made its appearance; and another followed it, written by William Fox, of London, _On the Propriety of abstaining from West India Sugar and Rum_. These pamphlets took the same ground. They inculcated abstinence from these articles as a moral duty; they inculcated it as a peaceable and constitutional measure; and they laid before the reader a truth which was sufficiently obvious, that, if each would abstain, the people would have a complete remedy for this enormous evil in their own power. While these things were going on, it devolved upon me to arrange all the evidence on the part of the abolition under proper heads, and to abridge it into one volume. It was intended that a copy of this should be sent into different towns of the kingdom, that all might know, if possible, the horrors (as far as the evidence contained them) of this execrable trade; and as it was possible that these copies might lie in the places where they were sent, without a due attention to their contents, I resolved, with the approbation of the committee, to take a journey, and for no other purpose than personally to recommend that they might be read. The books, having been printed, were despatched before me. Of this tour I shall give the reader no other account than that of the progress of the remedy, which the people were then taking into their own hands. And first I may observe, that there was no town, through which I passed, in which there was not some one individual who had left off the use of sugar. In the smaller towns there were from ten to fifty by estimation, and in the larger from two to five hundred, who made this sacrifice to virtue. These were of all ranks and parties. Rich and poor, churchmen and dissenters, had adopted the measure. Even grocers had left off trading in the article, in some places. In gentlemen's families, where the master had set the example, the servants had often voluntarily followed it; and even children, who were capable of understanding the history of the sufferings of the Africans, excluded, with the most virtuous resolution, the sweets, to which they had been accustomed, from their lips. By the best computation I was able to make from notes taken down in my journey, no fewer than three hundred thousand persons had abandoned the use of sugar. Having travelled over Wales, and two-thirds of England, I found it would be impossible to visit Scotland on the same errand. I had already, by moving upwards and downwards in parallel lines, and by intersecting these in the same manner, passed over six thousand miles. By the best calculation I could make, I had yet two thousand to perform. By means of almost incessant journeyings night and day, I had suffered much in my health. My strength was failing daily. I wrote, therefore, to the committee on this subject; and they communicated immediately with Dr. Dickson, who, on being applied to, visited Scotland in my stead. He consulted first with the committee at Edinburgh relative to the circulation of the Abridgment of the Evidence. He then pursued his journey, and, in conjunction with the unwearied efforts of Mr. Campbel Haliburton, rendered essential service to the cause for this part of the kingdom. On my return to London, I found that the committee had taken into their own body T.F. Forster, B.M. Forster, and James West, Esqrs., as members; and that they had elected Hercules Boss, Esq., an honorary and corresponding member, in consequence of the handsome manner in which he had come forward as an evidence, and of the peculiar benefit which had resulted from his testimony to the cause. The effects of the two journeys by Dr. Dickson and myself were soon visible. The people could not bear the facts, which had been disclosed to them by the Abridgment of the Evidence. They were not satisfied, many of them, with the mere abstinence from sugar; but began to form committees to correspond with that of London. The first of these appeared at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, so early as the month of October. It consisted of the Rev. William Turner, as chairman, and of Robert Ormston, William Batson, Henry, Taylor, Ralph Bambridge, George Brown, Hadwen Bragg, David Sutton, Anthony Clapham, George Richardson, and Edward Prowit. It received a valuable addition afterwards by the admission of many others. The second was established at Nottingham. The Rev. Jeremiah Bigsby became the president, and the Revs. G. Walker and J. Smith, and Messrs. Dennison, Evans, Watson, Hart, Storer, Bott, Hawkesley, Pennington, Wright, Frith, Hall, and Wakefield, the committee. The third was formed at Glasgow, under the patronage of David Dale, Scott Montcrieff, Robert Graham, Professor Millar, and others. Other committees started up in their turn. At length public meetings began to take place, and after this petitions to be sent to parliament; and these so generally, that there was not a day for three months, Sundays excepted, in which five or six were not resolved upon in some places or other in the kingdom. Of the enthusiasm of the nation at this time none can form an opinion but they who witnessed it. There never was perhaps a season when so much virtuous feeling pervaded all ranks. Great pains were taken by interested persons in many places to prevent public meetings. But no efforts could avail. The current ran with such strength and rapidity, that it was impossible to stem it. In the city of London a remarkable instance occurred. The livery had been long waiting for the common council to begin a petition; but the lord mayor and several of the aldermen stifled it. The former, indignant at this conduct, insisted upon a common hall. A day was appointed; and, though the notice given of it was short, the assemblage was greater than had ever been remembered on any former occasion. Scarcely a liveryman was absent, unless sick, or previously engaged. The petition, when introduced, was opposed by those who had prevented it in the common council. But their voices were drowned amidst groans and hissings. It was shortly after carried; and it had not been signed more than half an hour, before it was within the walls of the House of Commons. The reason of this extraordinary despatch was, that it had been kept back by intrigue so late, that the very hour in which it was delivered to the House, was that in which Mr. Wilberforce was to make his new motion. And as no petitions were ever more respectable than those presented on this occasion, as far as they breathed the voice of the people, and as far as they were founded on a knowledge of the object which they solicited, so none were ever more numerous, as far as we have any record of such transactions. Not fewer than three hundred and ten were presented from England; one hundred and eighty-seven from Scotland; and twenty from Wales. Two other petitions also for the abolition came from England, but they were too late for delivery. On the other side of the question, one was presented from the town of Reading for regulation, in opposition to that for abolition from the same place. There were also four against abolition. The first of these was from certain persons at Derby, in opposition to the other from that town. The second was from Stephen Fuller, Esq., as agent for Jamaica. The third from J. Dawson, Esq., a slave-merchant at Liverpool. And the fourth from the merchants, planters, mortgagees, annuitants, and others concerned in the West Indian colonies. Taking in all these statements, the account stood thus:--for regulation there was one; against all abolition there were four; and for the total abolition of the trade five hundred and nineteen. On the 2nd of April Mr. Wilberforce moved the order of the day; which having been agreed to, Sir William Dolben was put into the chair. He then began by soliciting the candid attention of the West Indians to what he was going to deliver to the House. However others might have censured them indiscriminately, he had always himself made a distinction between them and their system. It was the latter only which he reprobated. If aristocracy had been thought a worse form of government than monarchy, because the people had many tyrants instead of one, how objectionable must be that form of it, which existed in our colonies! Arbitrary power could be bought there by any one, who could buy a slave. The fierceness of it was doubtless restrained by an elevation of mind in many, as arising from a consciousness of superior rank and consequence: but, alas! it was too often exercised there by the base and vulgar. The more liberal, too, of the planters were not resident upon their estates. Hence a promiscuous censure of them would be unjust, though their system would undoubtedly be odious. As for the cure of this monstrous evil, he had shown, last year, that internal regulations would not produce it. These could have no effect, while the evidence of slaves was inadmissible. What would be the situation of the bulk of the people of this country, if only gentlemen of five hundred a-year were admitted as evidences in our courts of law? Neither was the cure of it in the emancipation of the slaves. He did not deny that he wished them this latter blessing. But, alas, in their present degraded state, they were unfit for it! Liberty was the child of reason and order. It was, indeed, a plant of celestial growth, but the soil must be prepared for its reception. He, who would see it flourish and bring forth its proper fruit, must not think it sufficient to let it shoot in unrestrained licentiousness. But if this inestimable blessing was ever to be imparted to them, the cause must be removed, which obstructed its introduction. In short, no effectual remedy could be found but in the abolition of the Slave Trade. He then took a copious view of the advantages, which would arise both to the master and to the slave, if this traffic were done away; and having recapitulated and answered the different objections to such a measure, he went to that part of the subject, in which he described himself to be most interested. He had shown, he said, last year, that Africa was exposed to all the horrors of war; and that most of these wars had their origin in the Slave Trade. It was then said, in reply, that the natural barbarity of the natives was alone sufficient to render their country a scene of carnage. This was triumphantly instanced in the King of Dahomey. But his honourable friend Lord Muncaster, then in the House, had proved in his interesting publication, which had appeared since, called _Historical Sketches of the Slave Trade, and of its Effects in Africa_, addressed to the people of Great Britain, that the very cruelties of this king, on which so much stress had been laid, were committed by him in a war, which had been undertaken expressly to punish an adjacent people for having stolen some of his subjects and sold them for slaves. He had shown, also, last year, that kings were induced to seize and sell their subjects, and individuals each other, in consequence of the existence of the Slave Trade. He had shown, also, that the administration of justice was perverted, so as to become a fertile source of supply to this inhuman traffic; that every crime was punished by slavery; that false accusations were made to procure convicts; and that even the judges had a profit on the convictions. He had shown again, that many acts of violence were perpetrated by the Europeans themselves. But he would now relate others which had happened since. The captain of an English vessel, lying in the river Cameroons, sent his boat with three sailors and a slave to get water. A Black trader seized the latter, and took him away. He alleged in his defence, that the captain owed him goods to a greater amount than the value of the slave; and that he would not pay him. This being told on board, the captain, and a part of his crew, who were compelled to blacken their naked bodies that they might appear like the natives, went on shore at midnight, armed with muskets and cutlasses. They fired on the trader's dwelling, and killed three of his children on the spot. The trader, being badly wounded, died while they were dragging him to the boat; and his wife, being wounded also, died in half an hour after she was on board the ship. Resistance having been made to these violent proceedings, some of the sailors were wounded, and one was killed. Some weeks after this affray, a chieftain of the name of Quarmo went on board the same vessel to borrow some cutlasses and muskets. He was going, he said, into the country to make war; and the captain should have half of his booty. So well understood were the practices of the trade, that his request was granted. Quarmo, however, and his associates, finding things favourable to their design, suddenly seized the captain, threw him overboard, hauled him into their canoe, and dragged him to the shore; where another party of the natives, lying in ambush, seized such of the crew as were absent from the ship. But how did these savages behave, when they had these different persons in their power? Did they not instantly retaliate by murdering them all? No--they only obliged the captain to give an order on the vessel to pay his debts. This fact came out only two: months ago in a trial in the Court of Common Pleas--not in trial for piracy and murder, but in the trial of a civil suit, instituted by some of the poor sailors, to whom the owners refused their wages, because the natives, on account of the villainous conduct of their captain, had kept them from their vessel by detaining them as prisoners on shore. This instance, he said, proved the dreadful nature of the Slave Trade, its cruelty, its perfidy, and its effect on the Africans as well as on the Europeans, who carried it on. The cool manner in which the transaction was conducted on both sides, showed that these practices were not novel. It showed also the manner of doing business in the trade. It must be remembered, too, that these transactions were carrying on at the very time when the inquiry concerning this trade was going forward in Parliament, and whilst the witnesses of his opponents were strenuously denying not only the actual, but the possible, existence of any such depredations. But another instance happened only in August last. Six British ships, the Thomas, Captain Philips; the Wasp, Captain Hutchinson; the Recovery, Captain Kimber, of Bristol; the Martha, Captain Houston; the Betsey, Captain Doyle; and the Amachree, (he believed,) Captain Lee, of Liverpool; were anchored off the town of Calabar. This place was the scene of a dreadful massacre about twenty years before. The captains of these vessels, thinking that the natives asked too much for their slaves, held a consultation, how they should proceed; and agreed to fire upon the town unless their own terms were complied with. On a certain evening they notified their determination to the traders; and told them, that, if they continued obstinate, they would put it into execution the next morning. In this they kept their word. They brought sixty-six guns to bear upon the town; and fired on it for three hours. Not a shot was returned. A canoe then went to offer terms of accommodation. The parties however not agreeing, the firing recommenced; more damage was done; and the natives were forced into submission. There were no certain accounts of their loss. Report said that fifty were killed; but some were seen lying badly wounded, and others in the agonies of death by those who went afterwards on shore. He would now say a few words relative to the Middle Passage, principally to show, that regulation could not effect a cure of the evil there. Mr. Isaac Wilson had stated in his evidence, that the ship, in which he sailed, only three years ago, was of three hundred and seventy tons; and that she carried six hundred and two slaves. Of these she lost one hundred and fifty-five. There were three or four other vessels in company with her, and which belonged to the same owners. One of these carried four hundred and fifty, and buried two hundred; another carried four hundred and sixty-six, and buried seventy-three; another five hundred and forty-six, and burled one hundred and fifty-eight; and from the four together, after the landing of their cargoes, two hundred and twenty died. He fell in with another vessel, which had lost three hundred and sixty-two; but the number, which had been bought, was not specified. Now if to these actual deaths, during and immediately after the voyage, we were to add the subsequent loss in the seasoning, and to consider that this would be greater than ordinary in cargoes which were landed in such a sickly state, we should find a mortality, which, if it were only general for a few months, would entirely depopulate the globe. But he would advert to what Mr. Wilson said, when examined, as a surgeon, as to the causes of these losses, and particularly on board his own ship, where he had the means of ascertaining them. The substance of his reply was this--That most of the slaves laboured under a fixed melancholy, which now and then broke out into lamentations and plaintive songs, expressive of the loss of their relations, friends, and country. So powerfully did this sorrow operate, that many of them attempted in various ways to destroy themselves, and three actually effected it. Others obstinately refused to take sustenance; and when the whip and other violent means were used to compel them to eat, they looked up in the face of the officer, who unwillingly executed this painful task, and said, with a smile, in their own language, "Presently we shall be no more." This, their unhappy state of mind, produced a general languor and debility, which were increased in many instances by an unconquerable aversion to food, arising partly from sickness, and partly, to use the language of the slave-captains, from sulkiness. These causes naturally produced the flux. The contagion spread; several were carried off daily; and the disorder, aided by so many powerful auxiliaries, resisted the power of medicine. And it is worth while to remark, that these grievous sufferings were not owing either to want of care on the part of the owners, or to any negligence or harshness of the captain; for Mr. Wilson declared, that his ship was as well fitted out, and the crew and slaves as well treated, as anybody could reasonably expect. He would now go to another ship. That, in which Mr. Claxton sailed as a surgeon, afforded a repetition of all the horrid circumstances which had been described. Suicide was attempted, and effected; and the same barbarous expedients were adopted to compel the slaves to continue an existence, which they considered as too painful to be endured. The mortality, also, was as great. And yet here, again, the captain was in no wise to blame. But this vessel had sailed since the regulating act. Nay, even in the last year, the deaths on shipboard would be found to have been between ten and eleven per cent, on the whole number exported. In truth, the House could not reach the cause of this mortality by all their regulations. Until they could cure a broken heart--until they could legislate for the affections, and bind by their statutes the passions and feelings of the mind, their labour would be in vain. Such were the evils of the Passage. But evils were conspicuous everywhere in this trade. Never was there, indeed, a system so replete with wickedness and cruelty. To whatever part of it we turned our eyes, whether to Africa, the Middle Passage, or the West Indies, we could find no comfort, no satisfaction, no relief. It was the gracious ordinance of Providence, both in the natural and moral world, that good should often arise out of evil. Hurricanes cleared the air; and the propagation of truth was promoted by persecution, Pride, vanity, and profusion contributed often; in their remoter consequences, to the happiness of mankind. In common, what was in itself evil and vicious, was permitted to carry along with it some circumstances of palliation. The Arab was hospitable; the robber brave. We did not necessarily find cruelty associated with fraud, or meanness with injustice. But here the case was far otherwise. It was the prerogative of this detested traffic to separate from evil its concomitant good, and to reconcile discordant mischiefs. It robbed war of its generosity; it deprived peace of its security: we saw in it the vices of polished society, without its knowledge or its comforts; and the evils of barbarism without its simplicity. No age, no sex, no rank, no condition, was exempt from the fatal influence of this wide-wasting calamity. Thus it attained to the fullest measure of pure, unmixed, unsophisticated wickedness; and, scorning all competition and comparison, it stood without a rival in the secure, undisputed, possession of its detestable preeminence. But, after all this, wonderful to relate, this execrable traffic had been defended on the ground of benevolence! It had been said, that the slaves were captives and convicts, who, if we were not to carry them away, would be sacrificed, and many of them at the funerals of people of rank, according to the savage custom of Africa. He had shown, however, that our supplies of slaves were obtained from other quarters than these. But he would wave this consideration for the present. Had it not been acknowledged by his opponents that the custom of ransoming slaves prevailed in Africa? With respect to human sacrifices, he did not deny that there might have been some instances of these; but they had not been proved to be more frequent than amongst other barbarous nations; and, where they existed, being acts of religion, they would not be dispensed with for the sake of commercial gain. In fact, they had nothing to do with the Slave Trade; only perhaps, if it were abolished, they might, by means of the civilization which would follow, be done away. But, exclusively of these sacrifices, it had been asserted, that it was kindness to the inhabitants to take them away from their own country. But what said the historians of Africa, long before the question of the abolition was started? "Axim," says Bosman, "is cultivated, and abounds with numerous large and beautiful villages: its inhabitants are industriously employed in trade, fishing, or agriculture."--"The inhabitants of Adom always expose large quantities of corn to sale, besides what they want for their own use."--"The people of Acron husband their grounds and time so well, that every year produces a plentiful harvest." Speaking of the Fetu country, he says,--"Frequently, when walking through it, I have seen it abound with fine well-built and populous towns, agreeably enriched with vast quantities of corn and cattle, palm-wine, and oil. The inhabitants all apply themselves, without distinction, to agriculture; some sow corn; others press oil, and draw wine from the palm-trees." Smith, who was sent out by the royal African company in 1726, assures us, "that the discerning natives account it their greatest unhappiness, that they were ever visited by the Europeans. They say that we Christians introduced the traffic of slaves; and that before our coming they lived in peace. But, say they, it is observable, wherever Christianity comes, there come swords and guns, and powder and ball, with it." "The Europeans," says Bruce, "are far from desiring to act as peace-makers among them. It would be too contrary to their interests; for the only object of their wars is to carry off slaves; and, as these form the principal part of their traffic, they would be apprehensive of drying up the source of it, were they to encourage the people to live well together." "The neighbourhood of the Damel and Tin keep them perpetually at war, the benefit of which accrues to the Company, who buy all the prisoners made on either side; and the more there are to sell, the greater is their profit; for the only end of their armaments is to make captives, to sell them to the white traders." Artus, of Dantzic, says, that in his time "those liable to pay fines were banished till the fine was paid; when they returned to their houses and possessions." Bosman affirms, "that formerly all crimes in Africa were compensated by fine or restitution, and, where restitution was impracticable, by corporal punishment." Moore says, "Since this trade has been used, all punishments have been changed into slavery. There being an advantage in such condemnation, they strain the crimes very hard, in order to get the benefit of selling the criminal. Not only murder, theft, and adultery, are punished by selling the criminal for a slave, but every trifling crime is punished in the same manner." Loyer affirms that "the King of Sain, on the least pretence, sells his subjects for European goods. He is so tyrannically severe, that he makes a whole village responsible for the fault of one inhabitant; and on the least offence sells them all for slaves." Such, he said, were the testimonies, not of persons whom he had summoned; not of friends of the abolition; but of men who were themselves, many of them, engaged in the Slave Trade. Other testimonies might be added; but these were sufficient to refute the assertions of his opponents, and to show the kind services we had done to Africa by the introduction of this trade. He would just touch upon the argument, so often repeated, that other nations would carry on the Slave Trade, if we abandoned it. But how did we know this? Had not Denmark given a noble example to the contrary? She had consented to abolish the trade in ten years; and had she not done this, even though we, after an investigation for nearly five years, had ourselves hung back? But what might not be expected, if we were to take up the cause in earnest; if we were to proclaim to all nations the injustice of the trade, and to solicit their concurrence in the abolition of it! He hoped the representatives of the nation would not be less just than the people. The latter had stepped forward, and expressed their sense more generally by petitions, than in any instance in which they had ever before interfered. To see this great cause thus triumphing over distinctions and prejudices was a noble spectacle. Whatever might be said of our political divisions, such a sight had taught us that there were subjects still beyond the reach of party; that there was a point of elevation, where we ascended above the jarring of the discordant elements, which ruffled and agitated the vale below. In our ordinary atmosphere clouds and vapours obscured the air, and we were the sport of a thousand conflicting winds and adverse currents; but here we moved in a higher region, where all was pure and clear, and free from perturbation and discomposure: As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm; Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head. Here then, on this august eminence, he hoped we should build the Temple of Benevolence; that we should lay its foundation deep in Truth and Justice; and that we should inscribe upon its gates, "Peace and Good Will to Men." Here we should offer the first-fruits of our benevolence, and endeavour to compensate, if possible, for the injuries we had brought upon our fellow-men. He would only now observe, that his conviction of the indispensable necessity of immediately abolishing this trade remained as strong as ever. Let those who talked of allowing three or four years to the continuance of it, reflect on the disgraceful scenes which had passed last year. As for himself, he would wash his hands of the blood which would be spilled in this horrid interval. He could not, however, but believe, that the hour was come, when we should put a final period to the existence of this cruel traffic. Should he unhappily be mistaken, he would never desert the cause; but to the last moment of his life he would exert his utmost powers in its support. He would now move, "That it is the opinion of this committee, that the trade carried on by British subjects for the purpose of obtaining slaves on the coast of Africa, ought to be abolished." Mr. Baillie was in hopes that the friends of the abolition would have been contented with the innocent blood which had been already shed. The great island of St. Domingo had been torn to pieces by insurrections. The most dreadful barbarities had been perpetrated there. In the year 1789, the imports into it exceeded five millions sterling. The exports from it in the same year amounted to six millions; and the trade employed three hundred thousand tons of shipping, and thirty thousand seamen. This fine island, thus advantageously situated, had been lost in consequence of the agitation of the question of the Slave Trade. Surely so much mischief ought to have satisfied those who supported it; but they required the total destruction of all the West Indian colonies, belonging to Great Britain, to complete the ruin. The honourable gentleman, who had just spoken, had dwelt upon the enormities of the Slave Trade. He was far from denying that many acts of inhumanity might accompany it; but as human nature was much the same everywhere, it would be unreasonable to expect among African traders, or the inhabitants of our islands, a degree of perfection in morals, which was not to be found in Great Britain itself. Would any man estimate the character of the English nation by what was to be read in the records of the Old Bailey? He himself, however, had lived sixteen years in the West Indies, and he could bear testimony to the general good usage of the slaves. Before the agitation of this impolitic question the slaves were contented with their situation. There was a mutual confidence between them and their masters: and this continued to be the case till the new doctrines were broached. But now depots of arms were necessary on every estate; and the scene was totally reversed. Nor was their religious then inferior to their civil state. When the English took possession of Grenada, where his property lay, they found them baptized and instructed in the principles of the Roman Catholic faith. The priests of that persuasion had indeed been indefatigable in their vocation; so that imported Africans generally obtained within twelve months a tolerable idea of their religious duties. He had seen the slaves there go through the public mass in a manner, and with a fervency, which would have done credit to more civilized societies. But the case was now altered; for, except where the Moravians had been, there was no trace in our islands of an attention to their religious interests. It had been said that their punishments were severe. There might be instances of cruelty; but these were not general. Many of them were undoubtedly ill disposed; though not more, according to their number, on a plantation, than in a regiment, or in a ship's crew. Had we never heard of seamen being flogged from ship to ship, or of soldiers dying in the very act of punishment? Had we not also heard, even in this country of boasted liberty, of seamen being seized, and carried away, when returning from distant voyages, after an absence of many years; and this without even being allowed to see their wives and families? As to distressed objects, he maintained, that there was more wretchedness and poverty in St. Giles's, than in all the West Indian islands belonging to Great Britain. He would now speak of the African and West Indian trades. The imports and exports of these amounted to upwards of ten millions annually; and they gave employment to three hundred thousand tons of shipping, and to about twenty-five thousand seamen. These trades had been sanctioned by our ancestors in parliament. The acts for this purpose might be classed under three heads. First, they were such as declared the colonies, and the trade thereof, advantageous to Great Britain, and therefore entitled to her protection. Secondly, such as authorized, protected, and encouraged the trade to Africa, as advantageous in itself, and necessary to the welfare and existence of the sugar colonies: and, Thirdly, such as promoted and secured loans of money to the proprietors of the said colonies, either from British subjects, or from foreigners. These acts[A], he apprehended, ought to satisfy every person of the legality and usefulness of these trades. They were enacted in reigns distinguished for the production of great and enlightened characters. We heard then of no wild and destructive doctrines like the present. These were reserved for this age of novelty and innovation. But he must remind the House, that the inhabitants of our islands had as good a right to the protection of their property, as the inhabitants of Great Britain. Nor could it be diminished in any shape without full compensation. The proprietors of lands in the ceded islands, which were purchased of government under specific conditions of settlement, ought to be indemnified. They also (of whom he was one), who had purchased the territory granted by the crown to General Monkton, in the island, of St. Vincent, ought to be indemnified also. The sale of this had gone on briskly, till it was known that a plan was in agitation for the abolition of the Slave Trade. Since that period, the original purchasers had done little or nothing, and they had many hundred acres on hand, which would be of no value, if the present question was carried. In fact, they had a right to compensation. The planters generally spent their estates in this country. They generally educated their children in it. They had never been found seditious, or rebellious; and they demanded of the Parliament of Great Britain that protection, which, upon the principles of good faith, it was in duty bound to afford them in common with the rest of his majesty's loyal subjects. [Footnote A: Here he quoted them specifically.] Mr. Vaughan stated that, being a West Indian by birth, and connected with the islands, he could speak from his own knowledge. In the early part of his life he was strongly in favour of the abolition of the Slave Trade. He had been educated by Dr. Priestley, and the father of Mrs. Barbauld; who were both of them friends to that question. Their sentiments he had imbibed; but, although bred at the feet of Gamaliel, he resolved to judge for himself, and he left England for Jamaica. He found the situation of the slaves much better than he had imagined. Setting aside liberty, they were as well off as the poor in Europe. They had little want of clothes or fuel; they had a house and garden found them, were never imprisoned for debts, nor deterred from marrying through fear of being unable to support a family; their orphans and widows were taken care of, as they themselves were when old and disabled; they had medical attendance without expense; they had private property, which no master ever took from them; and they were resigned to their situation, and looked for nothing beyond it. Perhaps persons might have been prejudiced by living in the towns, to which slaves were often sent for punishment; and where there were many small proprietors; or by seeing no negro otherwise than as belonging to the labouring poor; but they appeared to him to want nothing but liberty; and it was only occasionally that they were abused. There were two prejudices with respect to the colonies, which he would notice. The first was, that cruel usage occasioned the inequality of births and deaths among the slaves. But did cruelty cause the excess of deaths above births in the city of London? No--this excess had other causes. So it had among the slaves. Of these more males were imported than females: they were dissolute too in their morals; they had also diseases peculiar to themselves. But in those islands where they nearly kept up their numbers, there was this difficulty, that the equality was preserved by the increase on one estate compensating for the decrease on another. These estates, however, would not interchange their numbers; whereas, where freedom prevailed, the free labourers circulated from one employer to another, and appeared wherever they were wanted. The second was, that all chastisement of the slaves was cruelty. But this was not true. Their owners generally withdrew them from public justice; so that they, who would have been publicly executed elsewhere, were often kept alive by their masters, and were found punished again and again for repeating their faults. Distributive justice occasioned many punishments; as one slave was to be protected against every other slave: and, when one pilfered from another, then the master interfered. These punishments were to be distinguished from such as arose from enforcing labour, or from the cruelty of their owners. Indeed he had gone over the islands, and he had seen but little ill usage. He had seen none on the estate where he resided. The whip, the stocks, and confinement, were all the modes of punishment he had observed in other places. Some slaves belonging to his father were peculiarly well off. They saved money, and spent it in their own way. But notwithstanding all he had said, he allowed that there was room for improvement; and particularly for instilling into the slaves the principles of religion. Where this should be realized, there would be less punishment, more work, more marriages, more issue, and more attachment to masters. Other improvements would be the establishment of medical societies; the introduction of task-work; and grants of premiums and honorary distinctions both to fathers and mothers, according to the number of children which they should rear. Besides this, Negro evidence should be allowed in the courts of law, it being left to the discretion of the court or jury to take or reject it, according to the nature of the case. Cruel masters also should be kept in order in various ways. They should he liable to have their slaves taken from them, and put in trust. Every instrument of punishment should be banished, except the whip. The number of lashes should be limited; and the punishment should not be repeated till after intervals. These and other improvements should be immediately adopted by the planters. The character of the exemplary among them was hurt by being confounded with that of lower and baser men. He concluded by stating, that the owners of slaves were entitled to compensation, if, by means of the abolition, they should not be able to find labourers for the cultivation of their lands[A]. [Footnote A: Mr. Vaughan declared in a future stage of the debate, that he wished to see a prudent termination both of the Slave Trade and of slavery; and that, though he was the eldest son of his father, he never would, on any consideration, become the owner of a slave.] Mr. Henry Thornton conceived, that the two last speakers had not spoken to the point. The first had described the happy state of the slaves in the West Indies. The latter had made similar representations; but yet had allowed, that much improvement might be made in their condition. But this had nothing to do with the question then before them. The manner of procuring slaves in Africa was the great evil to be remedied. Africa was to be stripped of its inhabitants to supply a population for the West Indies. There was a Dutch proverb, which said, "My son; get money, honestly if you can--but get money:" or, in other words, "Get slaves, honestly if you can--but get slaves." This was the real grievance; and the two honourable gentlemen, by confining their observations to the West Indies, had entirely overlooked it. Though this evil had been fully proved, he could not avoid stating to the House some new facts, which had come to his knowledge as a director of the Sierra Leone Company, and which would still further establish it. The consideration, that they had taken place since the discussion of the last year on this subject, obliged him to relate them. Mr. Falconbridge, agent to the Company, sitting one evening in Sierra Leone, heard a shout, and immediately afterwards the report of a gun. Fearing an attack, he armed forty of the settlers, and rushed with them to the place from whence the noise came. He found a poor wretch, who had been crossing from a neighbouring village, in the possession of a party of kidnappers, who were tying his hands. Mr. Falconbridge, however, dared not rescue him, lest, in the defenceless state of his own town, retaliation might be made upon him. At another time a young woman, living half a mile off, was sold, without any criminal charge, to one of the slave-ships. She was well acquainted with the agent's wife, and had been with her only the day before. Her cries were heard; but it was impossible to relieve her. At another time a young lad, one of the free settlers who went from England, was caught by a neighbouring chief, as he was straggling alone from home, and sold for a slave. The pretext was, that some one in the town of Sierra Leone had committed an offence. Hence the first person belonging to it, who could be seized, was to be punished. Happily the free settlers saw him in his chains; and they recovered him, before he was conveyed to the ship. To mark still more forcibly the scenes of misery, to which the Slave Trade gave birth, he would mention a case stated to him in a letter by King Naimbanna. It had happened to respectable person, in no less than three instances, to have some branches of his family kidnapped, and carried off to the West Indies. At one time three young men, Corpro, Banna, and Marbrour, were decoyed on board a Danish slave-ship, under pretence of buying something, and were taken away. At another time another relation piloted a vessel down the river. He begged to be put on shore, when he came opposite to his own town; but he was pressed to pilot her to the river's mouth. The captain then pleaded the impracticability of putting him on shore; carried him to Jamaica; and sold him for a slave. Fortunately, however, by means of a letter, which was conveyed there, the man, by the assistance of the governor, was sent back to Sierra Leone. At another time another relation was also kidnapped. But he had not the good fortune, like the former, to return. He would mention one other instance. A son had sold his own father, for whom he obtained a considerable price: for, as the father was rich in domestic slaves, it was not doubted that he would offer largely for his ransom. The old man accordingly gave twenty-two of these in exchange for himself. The rest, however, being from that time filled with apprehensions of being on some ground or other sold to the slave-ships, fled to the mountains of Sierra Leone, where they now dragged on a miserable existence. The son himself was sold, in his turn, soon after. In short, the whole of that unhappy peninsula, as he learnt from eye-witnesses, had been desolated by the trade in slaves. Towns were seen standing without inhabitants all over the coast; in several of which the agent of the Company had been. There was nothing but distrust among the inhabitants. Every one, if he stirred from home, felt himself obliged to be armed. Such was the nature of the Slave Trade. It had unfortunately obtained the name of a trade; and many had been deceived by the appellation; but it was war, and not trade. It was a mass of crimes, and not commerce. It was that which prevented the introduction of a trade in Africa; for it was only by clearing and cultivating the lands, that the climate could be made healthy for settlements; but this wicked traffic, by dispersing the inhabitants, and causing the lands to remain uncultivated, made the coast unhealthy to Europeans. He had found, in attempting to establish a colony there, that it was an obstacle which opposed itself to him in innumerable ways; it created more embarrassments than all the natural impediments of the country; and it was more hard to contend with than any difficulties of climate, soil, or natural disposition of the people. He would say a few words relative to the numerous petitions which were then on the table of the House. They had shown, in an extraordinary manner, the opinion of the people. He did not wish to turn this into a constitutional question; but he would observe, that it was of the utmost consequence to the maintenance of the constitution of this country, that the reputation of parliament should be maintained. But nothing could prejudice its character so much, as a vote, which should lead the people to believe that the legislative body was the more corrupt part of it, and that it was slow to adopt moral principles. It had been often insinuated that parliament, by interfering in this trade, departed from its proper functions; No idea could be more absurd; for, was it not its duty to correct abuses? and what abuses were greater than robbery and murder? He was, indeed, anxious for the abolition. He desired it, as a commercial man, on account of the commercial character of the country. He desired it for the reputation of parliament, on which so materially depended the preservation of our happy constitution; but most of all he prayed for it for the sake of those eternal principle's of justice, which it was the duty of nations, as well as of individuals, to support. Colonel Tarleton repeated his arguments of the last year. In addition to these he inveighed bitterly against the abolitionists, as a junto of secretaries, sophists, enthusiasts, and fanatics. He condemned the abolition as useless, unless other nations would take it up. He brought to the recollection of the House the barbarous scenes which had taken place it in St. Domingo, all of which, he said, had originated in the discussion of this question. He described the alarms, in which the inhabitants of our own islands were kept, lest similar scenes should occur from the same cause. He ridiculed the petitions on the table. Itinerant clergymen, mendicant physicians, and others, had extorted signatures from the sick, the indigent, and the traveller. School-boys were invited to sign them, under the promise of a holiday. He had letters to produce, which would prove all these things though he was not authorized to give up the names of those who had written them. Mr. Montagu said, that, in the last session, he had simply entered his protest against the trade; but now He could be no longer silent; and as there were many, who had conceived regulation to be more desirable than abolition, he would himself to that subject. Regulation, as it related to the manner of procuring slaves, was utterly impossible; for how could we know the case of each individual, whom we forced away into bondage? Could we establish tribunals all along the coast, and in every ship, to find it out? What judges could we get for such an office? But, if this could not be done upon the coast, how could we ascertain the justness of the captivity of by far the greatest number, who were brought from immense distances inland? He would not dwell upon the proof of the inefficiency of regulations, as to the Middle Passage. His honourable friend, Mr. Wilberforce, had shown, that, however the mortality might have been lessened in some ships by the regulations of Sir William Dolben, yet, wherever a contagious disorder broke out, the greatest part of the cargo was swept away. But what regulations by the British parliament could prevent these contagions, or remove them suddenly, when they appeared? Neither would regulations be effectual, as they related to the protection of the slaves in the West Indies. It might, perhaps, be enacted, as Mr. Vaughan had suggested, that their punishments should be moderate; and that the number of lashes should be limited. But the colonial legislatures had already done as much, as the magic of words alone could do, upon this subject; yet the evidence upon the table clearly proved, that the only protection of slaves was in the clemency of their masters. Any barbarity might be exercised with impunity, provided no White person were to see it, though it happened in the sight of a thousand slaves. Besides, by splitting the offence, and inflicting the punishment at intervals, the law could be evaded, although the fact was within the reach of the evidence of a White man. Of this evasion Captain Cook, of the 89th regiment, had given a shocking instance; and Chief Justice Ottley had candidly confessed, that "he could devise no method of bringing a master, so offending, to justice, while the evidence of the slave continued inadmissible." But perhaps councils of protection, and guardians of the slaves, might be appointed. This, again, was an expedient which sounded well, but which would be nugatory and absurd. What person would risk the comfort of his life by the exercise of so invidious an interference? But supposing that one or two individuals could be found, who would sacrifice all their time, and the friendship of their associates, for the good of the slaves; what could they effect? Could they be in all places at once? But even if acts of barbarity should be related to them, how were they to come at the proof of them? It appeared, then, that no regulations could be effectual until the slaves were admitted to give their evidence; but to admit them to this privilege in their present state, would be to endanger the safety and property of their masters. Mr. Vaughan had, however, recommended this measure with limitations, but it would produce nothing but discontent; for how were the slaves to be persuaded that it was fit they should be admitted to speak the truth, and then be disbelieved and disregarded? What a fermentation would such conduct naturally excite in men dismissed with injuries unredressed, though abundantly proved, in their apprehension, by their testimony? In fact, no regulations would do. There was no cure for these evils, but in the abolition of the Slave Trade. He called upon the planters to concur with his honourable friend, Mr. Wilberforce, in this great measure. He wished them to consider the progress which the opinion of the injustice of this trade was making in the nation at large, as manifested by the petitions; which had almost obstructed the proceedings of the House by their perpetual introduction. It was impossible for them to stifle this great question. As for himself, he would renew his profession of last year, that he would never cease, but with life, to promote so glorious an end. Mr. Whitbread said, that even if he could conceive, that the trade was, as some had asserted it to be, founded on principles of humanity; that the Africans were rescued from death in their own country; that, upon being carried to the West Indies, they were put under kind masters; that their labour there was easy; that at evening they returned cheerful to their homes; that in sickness they were attended with care; and that their old age was rendered comfortable; even then he would vote for the abolition of the Slave Trade, inasmuch as he was convinced that that which was fundamentally wrong, no practice could justify. No eloquence could persuade him, that the Africans were torn from their country and their dearest connexions, merely that they might lead a happier life; or that they could be placed under the uncontrolled dominion of others without suffering. Arbitrary power would spoil the hearts of the best; hence would arise tyranny on the one side, and a sense of injury on the other. Hence the passions would be let loose, and a state of perpetual enmity would follow. He needed only to go to the accounts of those who defended the system of slavery, to show that it was cruel. He was forcibly struck last year by an expression of an honourable member, an advocate for the trade, who, when he came to speak of the slaves, on selling off the stock of a plantation, said that they fetched less than the common price, because they were damaged. Damaged! What! Were they goods and chattels? What an idea was this to hold out of our fellow-creatures! We might imagine how slaves were treated, if they could be spoken of in such a manner. Perhaps these unhappy people had lingered out the best part of their lives in the service of their master. Able then to do but little, they were sold for little! and the remaining substance of their sinews was to be pressed out by another, yet more hardened than the former, and who had made a calculation of their vitals accordingly. As another proof, he would mention a passage in a pamphlet, in which the author, describing the happy situation of the slaves, observed, that a good negro never wanted a character; a bad one could always be detected by his weals and scars. What was this but to say, that there were instruments in use which left indelible marks, behind them; and who would say that these were used justly? An honourable gentleman, Mr. Vaughan, had said, that setting aside slavery, the slaves were better off than the poor in this country. But what was it that we wished to abolish! Was it not the Slave Trade, which would destroy in time the cruel distinction he had mentioned? The same honourable gentleman had also expressed his admiration of their resignation; but might it not be that resignation which was the consequence of despair? Colonel Tarleton had insinuated that the petitions on the table had been obtained in an objectionable manner. He had the honour to present one from his constituents, which he would venture to say had originated with themselves, and that there did not exist more respectable names in the kingdom than those of the persons who had signed it. He had also asserted, that there was a strong similitude in their tenour and substance, as if they had been manufactured by the same persons. This was by no means to be wondered at. There was surely but one plain tale to tell, and it was not surprising that it had been clothed in nearly the same expressions. There was but one boon to ask, and that was--the abolition of this wicked trade. It had been said by another, (Mr. Baillie,) that the horrible insurrections in St. Domingo arose from the discussion of the question of the Slave Trade. He denied the assertion; and maintained that they were the effect of the trade itself. There was a point of endurance, beyond which human nature could not go, at which the mind of man rose by its native elasticity with a spring and violence proportioned to the degree to which it had been depressed. The calamities in St. Domingo proceeded from the Slave Trade alone; and, if it were continued, similar evils were to be apprehended in our own islands. The cruelties which the slaves had perpetrated in that unfortunate colony they had learnt from their masters. Had not an African eyes? Had he not ears? Had he not organs, senses, and passions? If you pricked him, would he not feel the puncture, and bleed? If you poisoned him, would he not die? and, if you wronged him, would he not revenge? But he had said sufficient, for he feared he could not better the instruction. Mr. Milbank would only just observe, that the policy of the measure of the abolition was as great as its justice was undeniable. Where slavery existed, everything was out of its natural place. All improvement was at an end; there must also, from the nature of the human heart, be oppression. He warned the planters against the danger of fresh importations, and invited their concurrence in the measure. Mr. Dundas (afterwards Viscount Melville) declared that he had always been a warm friend to the abolition of the Slave Trade, though he differed from Mr. Wilberforce as to the mode of effecting it. The abolitionists, and those on the opposite side of the question, had, both of them, gone into extremes. The former were for the immediate and abrupt annihilation of the trade; the latter considered it as essentially necessary to the existence of the West Indian islands, and therefore laid it down that it was to be continued for ever. Such was the vast distance between the parties. He would now address himself to each. He would say first, that he agreed with his honourable friend, Mr. Wilberforce, in very material points. He believed the trade was not founded in policy; that the continuation of it was not essential to the preservation of our trade with the West Indian islands; and that the slaves were not only to be maintained, but increased there, by natural population. He agreed, too, as to the propriety of the abolition. But when his honourable friend talked of direct and abrupt abolition, he would submit it to him, whether he did not run counter to the prejudices of those who were most deeply interested in the question; and whether, if he could obtain his object without wounding these, it would not be better to do it? Did he not also forget the sacred attention which parliament had ever shown to the private interests and patrimonial rights of individuals? Whatever idea men might then have of the African trade, certain it was that they, who had connected themselves with it, had done it under the sanction of parliament. It might also be well worth while to consider, (though the conduct of other nations ought not to deter us from doing our duty,) whether British subjects in the West Indies might not be supplied with slaves under neutral flags. Now he believed it was possible to avoid these objections, and at the same time to act in harmony with the prejudices which had been mentioned. This might be done by regulations, by which we should effect the end much more speedily than by the way proposed. By regulations, he meant such as would increase the breed of the slaves in the West Indies; such as would ensure a moral education to their children; and such as would even in time extinguish hereditary slavery. The extinction, however, of this was not to be effected by allowing the son of an African slave to obtain his freedom on the death of his parent. Such a son should be considered as born free; he should then be educated at the expense of the person importing his parents; and, when arrived at such a degree of strength as might qualify him to labour, he should work for a term of years for the payment of the expense of his education and maintenance. It was impossible to emancipate the existing slaves at once; nor would such an emancipation be of any immediate benefit to themselves; but this observation would not apply to their descendants, if trained and educated in the manner he had proposed. He would now address himself to those who adopted the opposite extreme; and he thought he should not assume too much when he said, that if both slavery and the Slave Trade could be abolished with safety to their property, it deeply concerned their interests to do it. Such a measure, also, would only be consistent with the principles of the British constitution. It was surely strange that we, who were ourselves free, should carry on a Slave Trade with Africa, and that we should never think of introducing cultivation into the West Indies by free labourers. That such a measure would tend to their interest he had no doubt. Did not all of them agree with Mr. Long, that the great danger in the West Indies arose from the importation of the African slaves there? Mr. Long had asserted, that all the insurrections there arose from these. If this statement was true, how directly it bore upon the present question! But we were told, also, by the same author, that the Slave Trade gave rise to robbery, murder, and all kinds of depredations on the coast of Africa. Had this been answered? No: except indeed it had been said that the slaves were such as had been condemned for crimes. Well, then, the imported Africans consisted of all the convicts, rogues, thieves, and vagabonds in Africa. But would the West Indians choose to depend on fresh supplies of these for the cultivation of their lands, and the security of their islands, when it was also found that every insurrection had arisen from them? It was plain the safety of the islands was concerned in this question. There would be danger so long as the trade lasted. The planters were, by these importations, creating the engines of their own destruction. Surely they would act more to their own interest if they would concur in extinguishing the trade, than by standing up for its continuance. He would now ask them, what right they had to suppose that Africa would for ever remain in a state of barbarism. If once an enlightened prince were to rise up there, his first act would be to annihilate the Slave Trade. If the light of heaven were ever to descend upon that continent, it would directly occasion its downfall. It was their interest then to contrive a mode of supplying labour, without trusting to precarious importations from that quarter. They might rest assured that the trade could not continue. He did not allude to the voice of the people in the petitions then lying on the table of the House; but he knew certainly, that an idea not only of the injustice, but of the impolicy, of this trade had been long entertained by men of the most enlightened understandings in this country. Was it then a prudent thing for them to rest on this commerce for the further improvement of their property? There was a species of slavery, prevailing only a few years ago, in the collieries in certain boroughs in Scotland. Emancipation there was thought a duty by parliament: but what an opposition there was to the measure! Nothing but ruin would be the consequence of it! After several years struggle the bill was Carried. Within a year after, the ruin so much talked of vanished in smoke, and there was an end of the business. It had also been contended that Sir William Dolben's bill would be the ruin of Liverpool: and yet one of its representatives had allowed, that this bill had been of benefit to the owners of the slave-vessels there. Was he then asking too much of the West Indians, to request a candid consideration of the real ground of their alarms? He would conclude by stating, that he meant to propose a middle way of proceeding. If there was a number of members in the House, who thought with him, that this trade ought to be ultimately abolished, but yet by moderate measures, which should neither invade the property nor the prejudices of individuals, he wished them to unite, and they might then reduce the question to its proper limits. Mr. Addington, the speaker, (now Viscount Sidmouth,) professed himself to be one of those moderate persons called upon by Mr. Dundas. He wished to see some middle measure suggested. The fear of doing injury to the property of others, had hitherto prevented him from giving an opinion against a system, the continuance of which he could not countenance. He utterly abhorred the Slave Trade. A noble and learned lord, who had now retired from the bench, said on a certain occasion, that he pitied the loyalty of that man, who imagined that any epithet could aggravate the crime of treason. So he himself knew of no language which could aggravate the crime of the Slave Trade. It was sufficient for every purpose of crimination, to assert, that man thereby was bought; and sold, or that he was made subject to the despotism of man. But though he thus acknowledged the justice due to a whole continent on the one side, he confessed there were opposing claims of justice on the other. The case of the West Indians deserved a tender consideration also. He doubted, if we were to relinquish the Slave Trade alone, whether it might not be carried on still more barbarously than at present; and whether, if we were to stop it altogether, the islands could keep up their present stocks. It had been asserted that they could. But he, thought that the stopping of the imputations could not be depended upon for this purpose, so much as a plan for providing them with more females. With the mode suggested by his right honourable friend, Mr. Dundas, he was pleased, though he, did not wholly agree to it. He could not grant liberty to the children born in the islands. He thought, also, that the trade ought to be permitted for ten or twelve years longer, under such arrangements as should introduce a kind of management among the slaves there, favourable to their interests, and of course to their future happiness. One species of regulation which he should propose, would be greater encouragement to the importation of females than of males, by means of a bounty on the former till their numbers should be found equal. Rewards also might be given to those slaves who should raise a certain number of children; and to those who should devise means of lightening negro-labour. If the plan of his honourable friend should comprehend these regulations, he would heartily concur in it. He wished to see the Slave Trade abolished. Indeed it did not deserve the name of a trade. It was not a trade, and ought not to be allowed. He was satisfied, that in a few years it would cease to be the reproach of this nation and the torment of Africa. But under regulations like these, it would cease without any material injury to the interests of others. Mr. Fox said, that after what had fallen from the two last speakers, he could remain no longer silent. Something so mischievous had come out, and something so like a foundation had been laid for preserving, not only for years to come, but for ever, this detestable traffic, that he should feel himself wanting in his duty, if he were not to deprecate all such deceptions and delusions upon the country. The honourable gentlemen had called themselves moderate men: but upon this subject he neither felt, nor desired to feel, anything like a sentiment of moderation. Their speeches had reminded him of a passage in MIDDLETON'S _Life of Cicero_. The translation of it was defective, though it would equally suit his purpose. He says, "To enter into a man's house, and kill him, his wife, and family, in the night, is certainly a most heinous crime, and deserving of death; but to break open his house, to murder him, his wife, and all his children in the night, may be still very right, provided it be done with moderation." Now, was there anything more absurd in this passage, than to say, that the Slave Trade might be carried on with moderation; for, if you could not rob or murder a single man with moderation, with what moderation could you pillage and wound a whole nation? In fact, the question of the abolition was simply a question of justice. It was only, whether we should authorize by law, respecting Africa, the commission of crimes, for which, in this country, we should forfeit our lives: notwithstanding which, it was to be treated, in the opinion of these honourable gentlemen, with moderation. Mr. Addington had proposed to cure the disproportion of the sexes in the islands, by a bounty on the importation of females; or, in other words, by offering a premium to any crew of ruffians, who would tear them from their native country. He would let loose a banditti against the most weak and defenceless of the sex. He would occasion these to kill fathers, husbands, and brothers, to get possession of their relatives, the females, who, after this carnage, were to be reserved for--slavery. He should like to see the man, who would pen such a moderate clause for a British parliament. Mr. Dundas had proposed to abolish the Slave Trade, by bettering the state of the slaves in the islands, and particularly that of their offspring. His plan, with respect to the latter, was not a little curious. They were to become free, when born; and then they were to be educated, at the expense of those to whom their fathers belonged. But it was clear, that they could not be educated for nothing. In order, therefore, to repay this expense, they were to be slaves for ten or fifteen years. In short, they were to have an education, which was to qualify them to become freemen; and after they had been so educated, they were to become slaves. But as this free education might possibly unfit them for submitting to slavery; so, after they had been made to bow under the yoke for ten or fifteen years, they might then, perhaps, be equally unfit to become free; and therefore, might be retained as slaves for a few years longer, if not for their whole lives. He never heard of a scheme so moderate, and yet so absurd and visionary. The same honourable gentleman had observed, that the conduct of other nations should not hinder us from doing, our duty; but yet neutrals would furnish, our islands with slaves. What was the inference from this moderate assertion, but that we might as well supply them ourselves? He hoped, if we were yet to be supplied, it would never be by Englishmen. We ought no longer to be concerned in such a crime. An adversary, Mr. Baillie, had said, that it would not be fair to take the character of this country from the records of the Old Bailey. He did not at all wonder, when the subject of the Slave Trade was mentioned, that the Old Bailey naturally occurred to his recollection. The facts, which had been described in the evidence, were associated in all our minds with the ideas of criminal justice. But Mr. Baillie had forgot the essential difference between the two cases. When we learnt from these records, that crimes were committed in this country, we learnt also, that they were punished with transportation and death. But the crimes committed in the Slave Trade were passed over with impunity. Nay, the perpetrators were even sent out again to commit others. As to the mode of obtaining slaves, it had been suggested as the least disreputable, that they became so in consequence of condemnation as criminals. But he would judge of the probability of this mode by the reasonableness of it. No less than eighty thousand Africans were exported annually by the different nations of Europe from their own country. Was it possible to believe that this number could have been legally convicted of crimes, for which they had justly forfeited their liberty? The supposition was ridiculous. The truth was, that every enormity was practised to obtain the persons of these unhappy people; He referred those present to the case in the evidence of the African trader, who had kidnapped and sold a girl, and who was afterwards kidnapped and sold himself. He desired them to reason upon the conversation which had taken place between the trader and the captain of the ship on this occasion. He desired them also to reason upon the instance mentioned this evening, which had happened in the river Cameroons, and they would infer all the rapine, all the desolation, and all the bloodshed, which had been placed to the account of this execrable trade. An attempt had been made to impress the House with the horrible scenes which had taken place in St. Domingo, as an argument against the abolition of the Slave Trade; but could any more weighty argument be produced in its favour? What were the causes of the insurrections there? They were two. The first was the indecision of the National Assembly, who wished to compromise between that which was right and that which was wrong on this subject. And the second was the oppression of the people of colour, and of the slaves. In the first of the causes we saw something like the moderation of Mr. Dundas and Mr. Addington. One day this Assembly talked of liberty, and favoured the Blacks. Another day they suspended their measures and favoured the Whites. They wished to steer a middle course; but decision had been mercy. Decision even against the planters would have been a thousand times better than indecision and half measures. In the mean time, the people of colour took the great work of justice into their own hands. Unable, however, to complete this of themselves, they called in the aid of the slaves. Here began the second cause; for the slaves, feeling their own power, began to retaliate on the Whites. And here it may be observed, that, in all revolutions, the clemency or cruelty of the victors will always be in proportion to their former privileges, of their oppression. That the slaves then should have been guilty of great excesses, was not to be wondered at; for where did they learn their cruelty? They learnt it from those who had tyrannized over them. The oppression, which they themselves had suffered, was fresh in their memories, and this had driven them to exercise their vengeance so furiously. If we wished to prevent similar scenes in our own islands, we must reject all moderate measures, and at once abolish the Slave Trade. By doing this, we should procure a better treatment for the slaves there; and when this happy change of system should have taken place, we might depend on them for the defence of the islands as much as on the whites themselves. Upon the whole, he would give his opinion of this traffic in a few words. He believed it to be impolitic--he knew it to be inhuman--he was certain it was unjust--he thought it so inhuman and unjust, that, if the colonies could not be cultivated without it, they ought not to be cultivated at all. It would be much better for us to be without them, than, not abolish the Slave Trade. He hoped therefore that members would this night act the part which would do them honour. He declared, that, whether he should vote in a large minority or a small one, he would never give up the cause. Whether in Parliament or out of it, in whatever situation he might ever be, as long as he had a voice to speak, this question should never be at rest. Believing the trade to be of the nature of crimes and pollutions, which stained the honour of the country, he would never relax his efforts. It was his duty to prevent man from preying upon man; and if he and his friends should die before they had attained their glorious object, he hoped there would never be wanting men alive to their duty, who would continue to labour till the evil should be wholly done away. If the situation of the Africans was as happy as servitude could make them, he could not consent to the enormous crime of selling man to man; nor permit a practice to continue, which put an entire bar to the civilization of one quarter of the globe. He was sure that the nation would not much longer allow the continuance of enormities which shocked human nature. The West Indians had no right to demand that crimes should be permitted by this country for their advantage; and, if they were wise, they would lend their cordial assistance to such measures, as would bring about, in the shortest possible time, the abolition of this execrable trade. Mr. Dundas rose again, but it was only to move an amendment, namely, that the word "gradually" should be inserted before the words "to be abolished" in Mr. Wilberforce's motion. Mr. Jenkinson (afterwards Earl of Liverpool) said, that the opinions of those who were averse to the abolition had been unfairly stated. They had been described as founded on policy, in opposition to humanity. If it could be made out that humanity would be aided by the abolition, he would be the last person to oppose it. The question was not, he apprehended, whether the trade was founded in injustice and oppression: he admitted it was. Nor was it, whether it was in itself abstractedly an evil: he admitted this also; but whether, under all the circumstances of the case, any considerable advantage would arise to a number of our fellow-creatures from the abolition of the trade in the manner in which it had been proposed. He was ready to admit, that the Africans at home were made miserable by the Slave Trade, and that, if it were universally abolished, great benefit would arise to them. No one, however, would assert, that these miseries arose from the trade as carried on by Great Britain only. Other countries occasioned as much of the evil as we did; and if the abolition of it by us should prove only the transferring of it to those countries, very little benefit would result from the measure. What then was the probability of our example being followed by foreign powers? Five years had now elapsed since the question was first started, and what had any of them done? The Portuguese continued the trade. The Spaniards still gave a bounty to encourage it. He believed there were agents from Holland in this country, who were then negotiating with persons concerned in it in order to secure its continuance. The abolition also had been proposed in the National Assembly of France, and had been rejected there. From these circumstances he had a right to infer, that if we gave up the trade, we should only transfer it to those countries: but this transfer would be entirely against the Africans. The mortality on board English ships, previously to the regulating bill, was four and an-eighth per cent. Since that time it had been reduced to little more than three per cent[A]. In French ships it was near ten, and in Dutch ships from five to seven, per cent. In Portuguese it was less than either in French or Dutch, but more than in English ships since the regulating bill. Thus the deaths of the Africans would be more than doubled, if we were to abolish the trade. [Footnote A: Mr. Wilberforce stated it on the same evening to be between ten and eleven per cent. for the last year. The number then exported from Africa to our islands was rather more than 22,000, of whom more than 2,300 died.] Perhaps it might be replied, that the importations being stopped in our own islands, fewer Africans would experience this misery, because fewer would be taken from their own country on this account. But he had a right to infer, that as the planters purchased slaves at present, they would still think it their interest to have them. The question then was, whether they could get them by smuggling. Now it appeared by the evidence, that many hundred slaves had been stolen from time to time from Jamaica, and carried into Cuba. But if persons could smuggle slaves out of our colonies, they could smuggle slaves into them; but particularly when the planters might think it to their interest to assist them. With respect to the slaves there, instances had been related of their oppression, which shocked the feelings of all who heard them: but was it fair to infer from these their general ill usage? Suppose a person were to make a collection of the different abuses, which had happened for a series of years under our own happy constitution, and use these as an argument of its worthlessness; should we not say to him, that in the most perfect system which the human intellect could form some defects would exist; and that it was unfair to draw inferences from such partial facts? In the same manner he would argue relative to the alleged treatment of the slaves. Evidence had been produced upon this point on both sides. He should not be afraid to oppose the authorities of Lord Rodney, and others, against any, however respectable, in favour of the abolition. But this was not necessary. There was another species of facts, which would answer the same end; Previously to the year 1730 the decrease of the slaves in our islands was very considerable. From 1730 to 1755 the deaths were reduced to only two and a-half per cent, above the births; from 1755 to 1768 to only one and three-fourths; and from 1768 to 1788 to only one per cent. This then, on the first view of the subject, would show, that whatever might have been the situation of slaves formerly, it had been gradually improved. But if, in addition to this, we considered the peculiar disadvanges under which they laboured; the small proportion of females to males; and the hurricanes, and famines, which had swept away thousands, we should find it physically impossible, that they could have increased as related, if they had been treated as cruelly as the friends of the abolition had described. This species of facts would enable him also to draw still more important conclusions; namely, that as the slaves in the West Indies had gradually increased, they would continue to increase; that very few years would pass, not only before the births were equal to the deaths, but before they were more numerous than the deaths; and that if this was likely to happen in the present state of things, how much more would it happen, if by certain regulations the increase of the slaves should be encouraged? The only question then was, whether it was more advantageous to breed or to import. He thought he should prove the former; and if so, then this increase was inevitable, and the importations would necessarily cease. In the first place, the gradual increase of the slaves of late years clearly proved, that such increase had been encouraged. But their price had been doubled in the last twenty years. The planter, therefore, must feel it his interest to desist from purchasing, if possible. But again, the greatest mortality was among the newly imported slaves. The diseases they contracted on the passage, and their deaths in the seasoning, all made for the same doctrine. Add to this, that slaves bred in the islands were more expert at colonial labour, more reconciled to their situation, and better disposed towards their masters than those who were brought from Africa. But it had been said, that the births and deaths in the islands were now equal; and that therefore no further supply was wanted. He denied the propriety of this inference. The slaves were subject to peculiar diseases. They were exposed also to hurricanes and consequent famines. That the day, however, would come, when the stock there would be sufficient, no person who attended to the former part of his argument could doubt. That they had gradually increased, were gradually increasing, and would, by certain regulations, increase more and more, must be equally obvious. But these were all considerations for continuing the traffic a little longer. He then desired the House to reflect upon the state of St. Domingo. Had not its calamities been imputed by its own deputies to the advocates for the abolition? Were ever any scenes of horror equal to those which had passed there? And should we, when principles of the same sort were lurking in our own islands, expose our fellow-subjects to the same miseries, who, if guilty of promoting this trade, had, at least, been encouraged in it by ourselves? That the Slave Trade was an evil, he admitted. That the state of slavery itself was likewise an evil, he admitted; and if the question was, not whether we should abolish, but whether we should establish these, he would be the first to oppose himself to their existence; but there were many evils, which we should have thought it our duty to prevent, yet which, when they had once arisen, it was more dangerous to oppose than to submit to,--The duty of a statesman was, not to consider abstractedly what was right or wrong, but to weigh the consequences which were likely to result from the abolition of an evil, against those which were likely to result from its continuance. Agreeing then most perfectly with the abolitionists in their end, he differed from them only in the means of accomplishing it. He was desirous of doing that gradually, which he conceived they were doing rashly. He had therefore drawn up two propositions. The first was, That an address be presented to His Majesty, that he would recommend to the colonial assemblies to grant premiums to such planters, and overseers, as should distinguish themselves by promoting the annual increase of the slaves by birth; and likewise freedom to every female slave, who had reared five children to the age of seven years. The second was, That a bounty of five pounds per head be given to the master of every slave-ship, who should import in any cargo a greater number of females than males, not exceeding the age of twenty-five years. To bring, forward these propositions, he would now move that the chairman leave the chair. Mr. Este wished the debate to be adjourned. He allowed there were many enormities in the trade, which called for regulation. There were two propositions before the House: the one for the immediate, and the other for the gradual, abolition of the trade. He thought that members should be allowed time to compare their respective merits. At present his own opinion was, that gradual abolition would answer the end proposed in the least exceptionable manner. Mr. Pitt rejoiced that the debate had taken a turn, which contracted the question into such narrow limits. The matter then in dispute was merely as to the time at which the abolition should take, place. He therefore congratulated the House, the country, and the world, that this great point had been gained; that we might now consider this trade as having received its condemnation; that this curse of mankind was seen in its true light; and that the greatest stigma on our national character, which ever yet existed, was about to be removed! Mankind, he trusted, were now likely to be delivered from the greatest practical evil that ever afflicted the human race--from the most severe and extensive calamity recorded in the history of the world. His honourable friend (Mr. Jenkinson) had insinuated, that any act for the abolition would be evaded. But if we were to enforce this act with all the powers of the country, how could it fail to be effectual? But his honourable friend had himself satisfied him, upon this point. He had acknowledged, that the trade would drop of itself, on account of the increasing dearness of the commodity imported. He would ask then, if we were to leave to the importer no means of importation but by smuggling; and if, besides all the present disadvantages, we were to load him with all the charges and hazards of the smuggler, would there be any danger of any considerable supply of fresh slaves being poured into the islands through this channel? The question under these circumstances, he pronounced, would not bear a dispute. His honourable friend had also maintained, that it would be inexpedient to stop the importations immediately, because the deaths and births in the islands were as yet not equal. But he (Mr. Pitt) had proved last year, from the most authentic documents, that an increase of the births above the deaths had already taken place. This then was the time for beginning the abolition. But he would now observe, that five years had elapsed since these documents were framed; and therefore the presumption was, that the black population was increasing at an extraordinary rate. He had not, to be sure, in his consideration of the subject, entered into the dreadful mortality arising from the clearing of new lands. Importations for this purpose were to be considered, not as carrying on the trade, but as setting on foot a Slave Trade, a measure which he believed no one present would then support. He therefore asked his honourable friend, whether the period he had looked to was now arrived? whether the West Indies, at this hour, were, not in a state in which they could maintain their population? It had been argued, that one or other of these two, assertions was false; that either the population of the slaves must be decreasing, (which the abolitionists denied,) or, if it was increasing, the slaves must have been well treated. That their population was rather increasing than otherwise, and also that their general treatment was by no means so good as it ought to have been, were both points which had been proved by different witnesses. Neither were they incompatible with each other. But he would see whether the explanation of this seeming contradiction would not refute the argument of expediency, as advanced by his honourable friend. Did the slaves decrease in numbers?--Yes. Then ill usage must have been the cause of it; but if so, the abolition was immediately necessary to, restrain it. Did they, on the other hand, increase?--Yes. But if so, no further importations, were wanted. Was their population (to take a middle course) nearly stationary, and their treatment neither so good nor so bad as it might be?--Yes. But if so, this was the proper period for stopping further supplies; for both the population and the treatment would be improved by such a measure. But he would show again the futility of the, argument of his honourable friend. He himself had admitted that it was in the power of the colonists to correct the various abuses, by which the Negro population was restrained. But, they could not do this without improving the condition of their slaves; without making them approximate towards the rank of citizens; without giving them some little interest in their labour, which would occasion them to work with the energy of men. But now the Assembly of Grenada had themselves stated, "that though the Negroes were allowed the afternoons of only one day in every week they would do as much work in that afternoon, when employed for their own benefit as in the whole day, when employed in their masters' service." Now, after, this, confession, the House might burn all his calculations relative to the Negro population; for, if it had not yet quite reached the desirable state which he had pointed out, this confession had proved, that further supplies were not wanted. A Negro, if he worked for himself, could do double work. By an improvement then in the mode of labour, the work in the islands could be doubled. But if so, what would become of the argument of his honourable friend? for then only half the number of the present labourers were necessary. He would now try this argument of expediency by other considerations. The best informed writers on the subject had told us, that the purchase of new Negroes was injurious to the, planters. But if this statement was just, would not the abolition be beneficial to them? That it would, was the opinion of Mr. Long, their own historian. "If the Slave Trade," says he, "was prohibited for four or five years, it would enable them to retrieve their affairs by preventing them from running into debt, either by renting or purchasing Negroes." To this acknowledgment he would add a fact from the evidence, which was, that a North American province, by such a prohibition alone for a few years from being deeply plunged in debt, had become independent, rich, and flourishing. The next consideration was the danger, to which the islands, were exposed from the newly imported slaves. Mr. Long, with a view of preventing insurrections, had advised, that a duty equal to a prohibition, might be laid on the importation of Coromantine slaves. After noticing one insurrection, which happened through their means, he speaks of another in the following year, in which thirty-three Coromantines, "most of whom had been newly imported, murdered and wounded no less than nineteen Whites in the, space of an hour." To the authority of Mr Long he would add the recorded opinion of a committee of the House of Assembly of Jamaica, which was appointed to inquire into the best means of preventing future insurrections. The committee reported, that "the rebellion had originated, like most others, with the Coromantines," and they proposed that a bill should he brought in for laying a higher duty on the importation of these particular Negroes, which should operate as a prohibition. But the danger was not confined to the introduction of Coromantines. Mr. Long accounts for the frequent insurrections in Jamaica from the greatness of its general importations. "In two years and a-half," says he, "twenty-seven thousand Negroes have been imported.--No wonder that we have rebellions!" Surely then, when his honourable friend spoke of the calamities of St. Domingo, and of similar dangers impending over our own islands, it ill became him to be the person to cry out for further importations! It ill became him to charge upon the abolitionists the crime of stirring up insurrections, who only recommended what the legislature of Jamaica itself had laid down in a time of danger with an avowed view to prevent them. It was, indeed, a great satisfaction to himself, that among the many arguments for prohibiting the Slave Trade, the security of our West Indian possessions against internal commotions, as well as foreign enemies, was among the most prominent and forcible. And here he would ask his honourable friend, whether in this part of the argument he did not see reason for immediate abolition. Why should we any longer persist in introducing those latent principles of conflagration, which, if they should once burst forth, might annihilate the industry of a hundred years? which might throw the planters back a whole century in their profits, in their cultivation, and in their progress towards the emancipation of their slaves? It was our duty to vote that the abolition of the Slave Trade should be immediate, and not to leave it to he knew not what future time or contingency. Having now done with the argument of expediency, he would consider the proposition of his right honourable friend Mr. Dundas; that, on account of some patrimonial rights of the West Indians, the prohibition of the Slave Trade would be an invasion of their legal inheritance. He would first observe, that, if this argument was worth anything, it applied just as much to gradual as to immediate abolition. He had no doubt, that, at whatever period we should say the trade should cease; it would be equally, set up; for it would certainly be just as good an argument against the measure in seventy years hence, as it was against it now. It implied also, that Parliament had no right to stop the importations: but had this detestable traffic received such a sanction, as placed it more out of the jurisdiction of the legislature for ever after, than any other branch of our trade? In what a situation did the proposition of his honourable friend place the legislature of Great Britain! It was scarcely possible to lay a duty on anyone article, which might not in someway affect the property of individuals. But if the laws respecting the Slave Trade implied a contract for its perpetual continuance, the House could never regulate any other of the branches of our national commerce. But any contract for the promotion of this trade must, in his opinion, have been void from the beginning: for if it was an outrage upon justice, and only another name for fraud, robbery, and murder, what pledge could devolve upon the legislature to incur the obligation of becoming principals in the commission of such enormities by sanctioning their continuance? But he would appeal to the acts themselves. That of 23 George II. c. 31, was the one upon which the greatest stress was laid. How would the House be surprised to hear that the very outrages committed in the prosecution of this trade had been forbidden by that act! "No master of a ship trading to Africa," says the act, "shall by fraud, force, or violence, or by any indirect practice whatever, take on board or carry away from that coast any Negro, or native of that country, or commit any violence on the natives, to the prejudice of the said trade; and every person so offending, shall for every such offence forfeit one hundred pounds." But the whole trade had been demonstrated to be a system of fraud, force, and violence; and therefore the contract was daily violated, under which the Parliament allowed it to continue. But why had the trade ever been permitted at all? The preamble of the act would show: "Whereas the trade to and from Africa is very advantageous to Great Britain, and necessary for supplying the Plantations and Colonies thereunto belonging with a sufficient number of Negroes at reasonable rates, and for that purpose the said trade should be carried on."--Here then we might see what the Parliament had in view, when it passed this act. But no one of the occasions, on which it grounded its proceedings, now existed. He would plead, then, the act itself as an argument for the abolition. If it had been proved that, instead of being very advantageous to Great Britain, it was the most destructive to her interests--that it was the ruin of her seamen--that it stopped the extension of her manufactures;--if it had been proved, in the second place, that it was not now necessary for the supply of our Plantations with Negroes;--if it had been further established, that it was from the beginning contrary to the first principles of justice, and consequently that a pledge for its continuance, had one been attempted to be given, must have been absolutely void--where in this act of parliament was the contract to be found, by which Britain was bound, as she was said to be, never to listen to her own true interests and to the cries of the natives of Africa? Was it not clear, that all argument, founded on the supposed pledge of Parliament, made against those who employed it? But if we were not bound by existing laws to the support of this trade, we were doubly criminal in pursuing it; for why ought it to be abolished at all? Because it was incurable injustice. Africa was the ground on which he chiefly rested; and there it was, that his two honourable friends, one of whom had proposed gradual abolition, and the other regulation, did not carry their principles, to their full extent. Both had confessed the trade to be a moral evil. How much stronger, then, was the argument, for immediate than for gradual abolition! If on the ground of a moral evil it was to be abolished at last, why ought it not now? Why was injustice to be suffered to remain for a single hour? He knew of no evil, which ever had existed, nor could he imagine any to exist, worse than the tearing of eighty thousand persons annually from their native land, by a combination of the most civilized nations, in the most enlightened quarter of the globe; but more, especially by that nation, which called herself the most free and the most happy of them all. He would now notice the objection, that other nations would not give up the Slave Trade, if we were to renounce it. But if the trade were stained, but by a thousandth part of the criminality which he and others, after a thorough investigation of the subject, charged upon it, the House ought immediately to vote for its abolition. This miserable argument, if persevered in, would be an eternal bar to the annihilation of the evil. How was it ever to be eradicated, if every nation was thus prudentially to wait till the concurrence of all the world should be obtained! But it applied a thousand times more strongly in a contrary way. How much more justly would other nations say, "Great Britain, free as she is, just and honourable as she is, not only has not abolished, but has refused to abolish, the Slave Trade. She has investigated it well. Her senate has deliberated upon it. It is plain, then, that she sees no guilt in it." With this argument we should furnish the other nations of Europe, if we were again to refuse to put an end to this cruel traffic; and we should have from henceforth not only to answer for our own, but for their crimes also. Already we have suffered one year to pass away; and now, when the question was renewed, not only had this wretched argument been revived, but a proposition had been made for the gradual abolition of the trade. He knew, indeed, the difficulty of reforming long established abuses; but in the present case, by proposing some other period than the present, by prescribing some condition, by waiting for some contingencies, perhaps till we obtained the general concurrence of Europe, (A concurrence which he believe never yet took place at the commencement of any one improvement in policy or morals,) he fared that this most enormous evil would never be redressed. Was it not folly to wait for the stream to run down before we crossed the bed of its channel? Alas! we might wait for ever. The river would still flow on. We should be no nearer the object which we had in view, so long as the step, which could alone bring us to it was not taken. He would now proceed to the civilization of Africa; and, as his eye had just glanced upon a West Indian law in the evidence upon the table, he would begin with an argument, which the sight of it had suggested to him. This argument had been ably answered in the course of the evening; but he would view it in yet another light. It had been said, that the savage disposition of the Africans rendered the prospect of their civilization almost hopeless. This argument was indeed of long standing; but, last year, it had been supported upon a new ground. Captain Frazer had stated in his evidence, that a boy had been put to death at Cabenda, because there were those who refused to purchase him as a slave. This single story was deemed by him, and had been considered by others, as a sufficient proof of the barbarity of the Africans, and of the inutility of abolishing the Slave Trade. But they, who had used this fact, had suppressed several circumstances relating to it. It appeared, on questioning Captain Frazer afterward, that this boy had previously run away from his master three several times; that the master had to pay his value, according to the custom of the country, every time he was brought back; and that partly from anger at the boy for running away so frequently, and partly to prevent a repetition of the same expense, he determined to destroy him. Such was the explanation of the signal instance, which was to fix barbarity on all Africa, as it came out in the cross-examination of Captain Frazer. That this African master was unenlightened and barbarous, he freely admitted; but what would an enlightened and civilized West Indian have done in a similar case? He would quote the law, passed in the West Indies in 1722, which he had just cast his eye upon in the book of evidence, by which law this very same crime of running away was by the legislature, of an island, by the grave and deliberate sentence of an enlightened legislature, punished with death; and this, not in the case only of the third offence, but even in the very first instance. It was enacted, "That, if any Negro or other slave should withdraw himself from his master for the term of six months, or any slave, who was absent, should not return within that time, every such person should suffer death." There was also another West Indian law, by which every Negro was armed against his fellow Negro, for he was authorized to kill every runaway slave; and he had even a reward held out to him for so doing. Let the House now contrast the two cases. Let them ask themselves which of the two exhibited the greater barbarity; and whether they could possibly vote for the continuance of the Slave Trade, upon the principle that the Africans had shown themselves to be a race of incorrigible barbarians? Something like an opposite argument, but with a like view, had been maintained by others on this subject. It had been said, in justification of the trade, that the Africans had derived some little civilization from their intercourse with us. Yes; we had given them just enough of the forms of justice to enable them to add the pretext of legal trials to their other modes of perpetrating the most atrocious crimes. We had given them just enough of European improvements, to enable them the more effectually to turn Africa into a ravaged wilderness. Alas! alas! we had carried on a trade with them from this civilized and enlightened country, which, instead of diffusing knowledge, had been a check to every laudable pursuit. We had carried a poison into their country, which spread its contagious effects from one end of it to the other, and which penetrated to its very centre, corrupting every part to which it reached. We had there subverted the whole order of nature; we had aggravated every natural barbarity, and furnished to every man motives for committing, under the name of trade, acts of perpetual hostility and perfidy against his neighbour. Thus had the perversion of British commerce carried misery instead of happiness to one whole quarter of the globe. False to the very principles of trade, misguided in our policy, unmindful of our duty, what almost irreparable mischief had we done to that continent! How should we hope to obtain forgiveness from heaven, if we refused to use those means which the mercy of Providence had still reserved to us for wiping away the guilt and shame, with which we were now covered? If we refused even this degree of compensation, how aggravated would be our guilt! Should we delay, then, to repair these incalculable injuries? We ought to count the days, nay the very hours, which intervened to delay the accomplishment of such a work. On this great subject, the civilization of Africa, which, he confessed, was near his heart, he would yet add a few observations. And first he would say, that the present deplorable state of that country, especially when we reflected that her chief calamities were to be ascribed to us, called for our generous aid, rather than justified any despair, on our part, of her recovery, and still less a repetition of our injuries. On what ground of theory or history did we act, when we supposed she was never to be reclaimed? There was a time, which it might be now fit to call to remembrance, when human sacrifices, and even this very practice of the Slave Trade existed in our own island. Slaves, as we may read in HENRY's _History of Great Britain_, were formerly an established article of our exports. "Great numbers," he says, "were exported like cattle from the British coast, and were to be seen exposed for sale in the Roman markets."--"Adultery, witchcraft, and debt," says the same historian, "were probably some of the chief sources of supplying the Roman market with British slaves--prisoners taken in war were added to the number--there might be also among them some unfortunate gamesters, who, after having lost all their goods, at length staked themselves, their wives, and their children." Now every one of these sources of slavery had been stated to be at this hour a source of slavery in Africa. If these practices, therefore, were to be admitted as proofs of the natural incapacity of its inhabitants, why might they not have been applied to ancient Britain? Why might not then some Roman senator, pointing to British barbarians, have predicted with equal boldness, that these were a people who were destined never to be free; who were without the understanding necessary for the attainment of useful arts; depressed by the hand of nature below the level of the human species, and created to form a supply of slaves for the rest of the world? But, happily, since that time, notwithstanding what would then have been the justness of these predictions, we had emerged from barbarism. We were now raised to a situation which exhibited a striking contrast to every circumstance by which a Roman might have characterized us, and by which we now characterized Africa. There was indeed one thing wanting to complete the contrast, and to clear us altogether from the imputation of acting even to this hour as barbarians; for we continued to this hour a barbarous traffic in slaves; we continued it even yet, in spite of all our great pretensions. We were once as obscure among the nations of the earth, as savage in our manners, as debased in our morals, as degraded in our understandings, as these unhappy Africans. But in the lapse of a long series of years, by a progression slow, and for a time almost imperceptible, we had become rich in a variety of acquirements. We were favoured above measure in the gifts of Providence, we were unrivalled in commerce, pre-eminent in arts, foremost in the pursuits of philosophy and science, and established in all the blessings of civil society; we were in the possession of peace, of liberty, and of happiness; we were under the guidance of a mild and a beneficent religion; and we were protected by impartial laws and the purest administration of justice; we were living under a system of government, which our own happy experience led us to pronounce the best and wisest, and which had become the admiration of the World. From all these blessings we must for ever have been excluded, had there been any truth in those principles, which some had not hesitated to lay down as applicable to the case of Africa; and we should have been at this moment little superior, either in morals, knowledge, or refinement, to the rude inhabitants of that continent. If then we felt that this perpetual confinement in the fetters of brutal ignorance would have been the greatest calamity which could have befallen us; if we viewed with gratitude the contrast between our present and our former situation; if we shuddered to think of the misery which would still have overwhelmed us, had our country continued to the present times, through some cruel policy, to be the mart for slaves to the more civilized nations of the World;--God forbid that we should any longer subject Africa to the same dreadful scourge, and exclude the sight of knowledge from her coasts, which had reached every other quarter of the globe! He trusted we should no longer continue this commerce, and that we should no longer consider ourselves as conferring too great a boon on the natives of Africa in restoring them to the rank of human beings, He trusted we should not think ourselves too liberal, if, by abolishing the Slave Trade, we gave them the same common chance of civilization with other parts of the World. If we listened to the voice of reason and duty this night, some of us might live to see a reverse of that picture, from which we how turned our eyes with shame. We might live to behold the natives engaged in the calm occupations of industry, and in the pursuit of a just commerce. We might behold the beams of science and philosophy breaking in upon their land, which at some happy period in still later times might blaze with full lustre; and joining their influence to that of pure religion, might illuminate and invigorate the most distant extremities of that immense continent. Then might we hope, that even Africa (though last of all the quarters of the globe) should enjoy at length, in the evening of her days, those blessings, which had descended so plentifully upon us in a much earlier period of the world. Then also would Europe, participating in her improvement and prosperity, receive an ample recompense for the tardy kindness (if kindness it could be called) of no longer hindering her from extricating herself out of the darkness, which, in other more fortunate regions, had been so much more speedily dispelled. --------Nos primus equis Oriens afflavit anhelis; Illìc sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper. Then might be applied to Africa those words, originally used indeed with a different view: His demùm exactis------ Devenere locos laetos, et amoena vireta Fortunatorum nemorum, sedesque beatas; Largior hìc campos aether et lumine vestit Purpureo. It was in this view--it was as an atonement for our long and cruel injustice towards Africa, that the measure proposed by his honourable friend Mr. Wilberforce most forcibly recommended itself to his mind. The great and happy change to be expected in the state of her inhabitants was, of all the various benefits of the abolition, in his estimation the most extensive and important. He should vote against the adjournment; and he should also oppose every proposition which tended either to prevent, or even to postpone for an hour, the total abolition of the Slave Trade. Mr. Pitt having concluded his speech (at about six in the morning), Sir William Dolben, the chairman, proposed the following questions:--The first was on the motion of Mr. Jenkinson, "that the chairman do now leave the chair." This was lost by a majority of two hundred and thirty-four to eighty-seven. The second was on the motion of Mr. Dundas, "that the abolition should be, gradual;" when the votes for gradual exceeded those for immediate by one hundred and ninety-three to one hundred and twenty-five. He then put the amended question, that "it was the opinion of the committee that the trade ought to be gradually abolished." The committee having divided again, the votes for a gradual abolition were, two hundred and thirty, and those against any abolition were eighty-five. After this debate, the committee for the abolition of the Slave Trade held a meeting. They voted their thanks to Mr. Wilberforce for his motion, and to Mr. Pitt, Mr. Fox, and those other members of the House who had supported it. They resolved, also, that the House of Commons, having determined that the Slave Trade ought to be gradually abolished, had by that decision manifested their opinion, that it was cruel and unjust. They resolved, also, that a gradual abolition of it was not an adequate remedy for its injustice and cruelty; neither could it be deemed a compliance with the general wishes of the people, as expressed in their numerous and urgent petitions to Parliament; and they resolved lastly, that the interval in which the Slave Trade should be permitted to continue, afforded a prospect of redoubled cruelties and ravages on the coast of Africa; and that it imposed therefore an additional obligation on every friend to the cause to use all constitutional means to obtain its immediate abolition. At a subsequent meeting they voted their thanks to the right honourable Lord Muncaster, for the able support he had given to the great object of their institution by his _Historical Sketches of the Slave Trade, and of its Effects in Africa_; addressed to the people of Great Britain; and they elected the Rev. Richard Gifford, and the Rev. Thomas Gisborne, honorary and corresponding members; the first on account of his excellent sermon before-mentioned, and other services; and the latter on account of his truly Christian and seasonable pamphlet, entitled _Remarks on the Late Decision of the House of Commons, respecting the Abolition of the Slave Trade_. On the 23rd of April, the House of Commons resolved itself into a committee of the whole House, to consider the subject again; and Mr. Beaufoy was put into the chair. Mr. Dundas, upon whom the task of introducing a bill for the gradual abolition of the Slave Trade now devolved, rose to offer the outlines of a plan for that purpose. He intended, he said, immediately to abolish that part of the trade, by which we supplied foreigners with slaves. The other part of it was to be continued seven years from the 1st of January next. He grounded the necessity of its continuance till this time upon the documents of the Negro population in the different islands. In many of these, slaves were imported, but they were re-exported nearly in equal numbers. Now, all these he considered to be in a state to go on without future supplies from Africa. Jamaica and the ceded islands retained almost all the slaves imported into them. This he considered as a proof that these had not attained the same desirable state; and it was therefore necessary, that the trade should be continued longer on this account. It was his intention, however, to provide proper punishments, while it lasted, for abuses both in Africa and in the Middle Passage, He would take care, as far as he could, that none but young slaves should be brought from the Coast of Africa. He would encourage establishments there for a new species of traffic. Foreign nations should be invited to concur in the abolition. He should propose a praedial rather than a personal service for the West Indies, and institutions, by which the slaves there should be instructed in religious duties. He concluded by reading several resolutions, which he would leave to the future consideration of the House. Mr. Pitt then rose. He deprecated the resolutions altogether. He denied also the inferences which Mr. Dundas had drawn from the West Indian documents relative to the Negro population. He had looked aver his own calculations from the same documents again and again, and he would submit them, with all their data, if it should be necessary, to the House. Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Fox held the same language. They contended also, that Mr. Dundas had now proved, a thousand times more strongly than ever, the necessity of immediate abolition. All the resolutions he had read were operative against his own reasoning. The latter observed, that the Slave-traders were in future only to be allowed to steal innocent children from their disconsolate parents. After a few observations by Lord Sheffield, Mr. Drake, Colonel Tarleton, and Mr. Rolle, the House adjourned. On the 25th of April it resumed the consideration of the subject. Mr. Dundas then went over his former resolutions, and concluded by moving, "that it should not be lawful to import any African Negroes into any British colonies, in ships owned or navigated by British subjects, at any time after the 1st of January, 1800." Lord Mornington (now Marquis Wellesley) rose to propose an amendment. He congratulated his countrymen, that the Slave Trade had received its death-wound. This traffic was founded in injustice; and between right and wrong there could be no compromise. Africa was not to be sacrificed to the apparent good of the West Indies. He would not repeat those enormities out of the evidence, which had made such a deep impression upon the House. It had been resolved, that the trade should be abolished. The question then was, how long they were to persevere in the crime of its continuance? One had said, that they might be unjust for ten years longer; another, only till the beginning of the next century. But this diversity of opinion had proceeded from an erroneous statement of Mr. Dundas against the clear and irrefragable calculations of Mr. Pitt. The former had argued, that, because Jamaica and the ceded islands had retained almost all the slaves which had been, imported into them, they were therefore not yet in a situation to support their population without further supplies from Africa. But the truth was, that the slaves, so retained, were kept, not to maintain the population there, but to clear new land. Now the House had determined, that the trade was not to be continued for this purpose. The population, therefore, in the islands was sufficient to continue the ordinary cultivation of them. He deprecated the idea, that the Slave Trade had been so sanctioned by the acts of former Parliaments, that the present could make no alteration in it. Had not the House altered the import of foreign sugar into our islands? a measure, which at the time affected the property of many. Had they not prohibited the exports of provisions from America to the same quarter; Again, as to compacts, had the Africans ever been parties to these? It was rather curious also, when King James the Second gave a charter to the slave-trader, that he should have given them a right to all the south of Africa, and authority over every person born therein! But, by doing this, it was clear that he gave them a right which he never possessed himself. After many other observations, he concluded by moving, "that the year 1793 be substituted in the place of the year 1800." In the course of the debate, which followed, Mr. Burdon stated his conviction of the necessity of immediate abolition; but he would support the amendment, as the shortest of the terms proposed. Mr. Robert Thornton would support it also, as the only choice left him. He dared not accede to a motion, by which we were to continue for seven years to imbrue our hands in innocent blood. Mr. Ryder (now Earl of Harrowby) would not support the trade for one moment, if he could avoid it. He could not hold a balance with gold in one scale, and blood in the other. Mr. William Smith exposed the wickedness of restricting the trade to certain ages. The original motion, he said, would only operate as a transfer of cruelty from the aged and the guilty to the young and the innocent. He entreated the House to consider, whether, if it related to their own children, any one of them would vote for it. Mr. Windham had hitherto felt a reluctance to speaking, not from the abstruseness, but from the simplicity, of the subject; but he could not longer be silent, when he observed those arguments of policy creeping again out of their lurking-places, which had fled before eloquence and truth. The House had clearly given up the policy of the question. They had been determined by the justice of it. Why were they then to be troubled again with arguments of this nature? These, if admitted, would go to the subversion of all public as well as private morality. Nations were as much bound as individuals to a system of morals, though a breach in the former could not be so easily punished. In private life morality took pretty good care of itself. It was a kind of retail article, in which the returns were speedy. If a man broke open his neighbour's house, he would feel the consequences. There was an ally of virtue, who rendered it the interest of individuals to be moral, and he was called the executioner. But as such punishment did not always await us in our national concerns, we should substitute honour as the guardian of our national conduct. He hoped the West Indians would consider the character of the mother-country, and the obligations to national as well as individual justice. He hoped, also, they would consider the sufferings, which they occasioned both in Africa, in the passage, and in the West Indies. In the passage, indeed, no one was capable of describing them. The section of the slave-ship; however, made up the deficiency of language, and did away all necessity of argument, on this subject. Disease there had to struggle with the new affliction of chains and punishment. At one view were the irksomeness of a goal, and the miseries of an hospital; so that the holds of these vessels put him in mind of the regions of the damned. The trade, he said, ought immediately to be abolished. On a comparison of the probable consequences of the abolition of it, he saw on one side only doubtful contingencies, but on the other shame and disgrace. Sir James Johnstone contended for the immediate abolition of the trade. He had introduced the plough into his own plantation in the West Indies, and he found the land produced more sugar than when cultivated in the ordinary way by slaves. Even for the sake of the planters, he hoped the abolition would not be long delayed. Mr. Dundas replied: after which a division took place. The number of votes in favour of the original motion were one hundred and fifty-eight, and for the amendment one hundred and nine. On the 27th of April the House resumed the subject. Mr. Dundas moved, as before, that the Slave Trade should cease in the year 1800; upon which Lord Mornington moved, that the year 1795 should be substituted for the latter period. In the course of the debate, which followed, Mr. Hubbard said, that he had voted against the abolition, when the year 1793 was proposed; but he thought that, if it were not to take place till 1795, sufficient time would be allowed the planters. He would support this amendment; and he congratulated the House on the prospect of the final triumph of truth, humanity, and justice. Mr. Addington preferred the year 1796 to the year 1795. Mr. Alderman Watson considered the abolition in 1796, to be as destructive as if it were immediate. A division having taken place, the number of votes in favour of the original motion were one hundred and sixty-one, and in favour of Lord Mornington's amendment for the year 1795, one hundred and twenty-one. Sir Edward Knatchbull, however, seeing that there was a disposition in the House to bring the matter to a conclusion, and that a middle line would be preferred, moved that the year 1796 should be substituted for this year 1800. Upon this the House divided again; when there appeared for the original motion only one hundred and thirty-two, but for the amendment one hundred and fifty-one. The gradual abolition having been now finally agreed upon for the year 1796, a committee was named, which carried the resolution to the Lords. On the 8th of May, the Lords were summoned to consider it; Lord Stormont, after having spoken for some time, moved, that they should hear evidence upon it. Lord Grenville opposed the motion on account of the delay, which would arise from an examination of the witnesses by the House at large: but he moved that such witnesses should be examined by a committee of the House. Upon this a debate ensued, and afterwards a division; when the original motion was carried by sixty-three against thirty-six. On the 15th of May, the Lords met again. Evidence was then ordered to be summoned in behalf of those interested in the continuance of the trade. At length it was introduced; but on the 5th of June, when only seven persons had been examined, a motion was made and carried, that the further examinations should be postponed to the next session. CHAPTER XXVIII. Continuation from July 1792 to July 1793.--Author travels round the kingdom again.--Motion to renew the resolution of the last year in the Commons; motion lost.--New motion in the Commons to abolish the foreign Slave Trade; motion lost.--Proceedings of the Lords. The resolution adopted by the Commons, that the trade should cease in 1796, was a matter of great joy to many; and several, in consequence of it, returned to the use of sugar. The committee, however, for the abolition did not view it in the same favourable light. They considered it as a political manoeuvre to frustrate the accomplishment of the object. But the circumstance, which gave them the most concern, was the resolution of the Lords to hear evidence. It was impossible now to say, when the trade would cease, the witnesses in behalf of the merchants and planters, had obtained possession of the ground; and they might, keep it, if they chose, even till the year 1800, to throw light upon a measure which was to be adopted in 1796. The committee found too, that they had again the laborious task before them of finding out new persons to give testimony in behalf of their cause; for some of their former witnesses were dead, and others were out of the kingdom; and unless they replaced these, there would be no probability of making out that strong case in the Lords, which they had established in the Commons. It devolved therefore upon me once more to travel for this purpose: but as I was then in too weak a state to bear as much fatigue as formerly, Dr. Dickson relieved me, by taking one part of the tour, namely, that to Scotland, upon himself. These journeys we performed with considerable success; during which, the committee elected Mr. Joseph Townsend of Baltimore, in Maryland, an honorary and corresponding member. Parliament having met, Mr. Wilberforce, in February 1793, moved, that the House resolve itself into a committee of the whole House on Thursday next, to consider of the circumstances of the Slave Trade. This motion was opposed by Sir William Yonge, who moved, that this day six months should be substituted for Thursday next. A debate ensued: of this, however, as well as of several which followed. I shall give no account; as it would be tedious to the reader to hear a repetition of the same arguments. Suffice it to say, that the motion was lost by a majority of sixty-one to fifty-three. This sudden refusal of the House of Commons to renew their own vote of the former year, gave great uneasiness to the friends of the cause. Mr. Wilberforce, however, resolved that the session should not pass without an attempt to promote it in another form; and accordingly, on the 14th of May, he moved for leave to bring in a bill to abolish that part of the Slave Trade, by which the British merchants supplied foreigners with slaves. This motion was opposed like the former; but was carried by a majority of seven. The bill was then brought in; and it passed its first and second reading with little opposition; but on the 5th of June, notwithstanding the eloquence of Mr. Pitt and of Mr. Fox, and the very able speeches of Mr. Francis, Mr. Courtenay, and others, it was lost by a majority of thirty-one to twenty-nine. In the interval between these motions, the question experienced in the Lords considerable opposition. The Duke of Clarence moved that the House should not proceed in the consideration of the Slave Trade till after the Easter recess. The Earl of Abingdon was still more hostile afterwards. He deprecated the new philosophy. It was as full of mischief as the Box of Pandora. The doctrine of the abolition of the Slave Trade was a species of it; and he concluded by moving, that all further consideration of the subject be postponed. To the epithets, then bestowed upon the abolitionists by this nobleman, the Duke of Clarence added those of fanatics and hypocrites, among whom he included Mr. Wilberforce by name. All the other Lords, however, who were present, manifested such a dislike to the sentiments of the Earl of Abingdon, that he withdrew his motion. After this, the hearing of evidence on the resolution of the House of Commons was resumed; and seven persons were examined before the close of the session. CHAPTER XXIX. --Continuation from July 1793 to July 1794.--Author travels round the kingdom again.--Motion to abolish the foreign Slave Trade renewed in the Commons; and carried; but lost in the Lords; further proceedings there.--Author, on account of his declining health, obliged to retire from the cause. The committee for the abolition could not view the proceedings of both Houses of Parliament on this subject during the year 1793, without being alarmed for the fate of their question. The only two sources of hope, which they could discover, were in the disposition then manifested by the Peers, as to the conduct of the Earl of Abingdon, and in their determination to proceed in the hearing of evidence. The latter circumstance indeed was the more favourable, as the resolution, upon which the witnesses were to be examined, had not been renewed by the Commons. These considerations, however, afforded no solid ground for the mind to rest upon. They only broke in upon it, like faint gleams of sunshine, for a moment, and then were gone. In this situation, the committee could only console themselves by the reflection, that they had done their duty. In looking, however, to their future services, one thing, and only one, seemed practicable; and this was necessary; namely, to complete the new body of evidence, which they had endeavoured to form in the preceding year. The determination to do this rendered another journey on my part indispensable; and I undertook it, broken down, as my constitution then was, beginning it in September 1793, and completing it in February 1794. Mr. Wilberforce, in this interval, had digested his plan of operations; and accordingly, early in the session of 1794, he asked leave to renew his former bill, to abolish that part of the trade, by means of which British merchants supplied foreigners with slaves. This request was opposed by Sir William Yonge; but it was granted; on a division of the House, by a majority of sixty-three to forty votes. When the bill was brought in, it was opposed by the same member; upon which the House divided; and there appeared for Sir William Yonge's amendment thirty-eight votes, but against it fifty-six. On a motion for the recommitment of the bill, Lord Sheffield divided the House, against whose motion there was a majority of forty-two. And, on the third reading of it, it was opposed again; but it was at length carried. The speakers against the bill were: Sir William Yonge, Lord Sheffield, Colonel Tarleton, Alderman Newnham and Messrs; Payne, Este, Lechaiere, Cawthorae, Jenkinson, and Dent. Those who spoke in favour of it were: Messrs. Pitt, Fox, William Smith, Whitbread, Francis, Burdon, Vaughan, Barham, and Serjeants Watson and Adair. While the foreign Slave-bill was thus passing through its stages in the Commons, Dr. Horsley, Bishop of Rochester, who saw no end to the examinations, while the witnesses were to be examined at the bar of the House of Lords, moved, that they should be taken in future before a committee above-stairs. Dr. Porteus, Bishop of London, and the Lords Guildford, Stanhope, and Grenville, supported this motion. But the Lord Chancellor Thurlow, aided by the Duke of Clarence, and by the Lords Mansfield, Hay, Abingdon, and others, negatived it by a majority of twenty-eight. At length the bill itself was ushered into the House of Lords. On reading it a second time, it was opposed by the Duke of Clarence, Lord Abingdon, and others. Lord Grenville and the Bishop of Rochester declined supporting it. They alleged as a reason, that they conceived the introduction of it to have been improper, pending the inquiry on the general subject of the Slave Trade. This declaration brought up the Lords Stanhope and Lauderdale, who charged them with inconsistency as professed friends of the cause. At length the bill was lost. During these discussions the examination of the witnesses was resumed by the Lords; but only two of them were heard in this session[A]. [Footnote A: After this the examinations wholly dropped in the House of Lords.] After this decision the question was in a desperate state; for if the Commons would not renew their own resolution, and the Lords would not abolish the foreign part of the Slave-trade, what hope was there of success? It was obvious too, that in the former House, Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas voted against each other. In the latter, the Lord Chancellor Thurlow opposed every motion in favour of the cause. The committee therefore were reduced to this;--either they must exert themselves without hope, or they must wait till some change should take place in their favour. As far as I myself was concerned, all exertion was then over. The nervous system was almost shattered to pieces. Both my memory and my hearing failed me. Sudden dizzinesses seized my head. A confused singing in the ears followed me, wherever I went. On going to bed the very, stairs seemed to dance up and down under me, so that, misplacing my foot, I sometimes fell. Talking too, if it continued but half an hour, exhausted me, so that profuse perspirations followed; and the same effect was produced even by an active exertion of the mind for the like time. These disorders had been brought on by degrees in consequence of the severe labours necessarily attached to the promotion of the cause. For seven years I had a correspondence to maintain with four hundred persons with my own hand. I had some book or other annually to write in behalf of the cause. In this time I had travelled more than thirty-five thousand miles in search of evidence, and a great part of these journeys in the night. All this time my mind had been on the stretch. It had been bent too to this one subject; for I had not even leisure to attend to my own concerns. The various instances of barbarity, which had come successively to my knowledge within this period, had vexed, harassed, and afflicted it. The wound which these had produced, was rendered still deeper by those cruel disappointments before related, which arose from the reiterated refusal of persons to give their testimony, after I had travelled hundreds of miles in quest of them. But the severest stroke was that inflicted by the persecution, begun and pursued by persons interested in the continuance of the trade, of such witnesses as had been examined against them; and whom, on account of their dependent situation in life, it was most easy to oppress. As I had been the means of bringing these forward on these occasions, they naturally came to me, when thus persecuted, as the author of their miseries and their ruin. From their supplications and wants it would have been ungenerous and ungrateful to have fled[A]. These different circumstances, by acting together, had at length brought me into the situation just mentioned; and I was therefore obliged, though very reluctantly, to be borne out of the field, where I had placed the great honour and glory of my life. [Footnote A: The late Mr. Whitbread, to whom one day in deep affliction on this account I related accidentally a circumstance of this kind, generously undertook, in order to make my mind easy upon the subject, to make good all injuries, which should in future arise to individuals from such persecution; and he repaired these, at different times, at a considerable expense. I feel it a duty to divulge this circumstance, out of respect to the memory of one of the best of men, and of one, whom, if the history of his life were written, it would appear to have been an extraordinary honour to the country to have produced.] CHAPTER XXX. Continuation from July 1794 to July 1799.--Various motions within this period. I purpose, though it may seem abrupt after the division which has hitherto been made of the contents of this volume, to throw the events of the next five years into one chapter. Mr. Wilberforce and the members of the committee, whose constitutions had not suffered like my own, were still left; and they determined to persevere in the promotion of their great object as long as their health and their faculties permitted them. The former, accordingly, in the month of February, 1795, moved in the House of Commons for leave to bring in a bill for the abolition of the Slave Trade. This motion was then necessary, if, according to the resolution of that House, the Slave Trade was to cease in 1796. It was opposed, however, by Sir William Yonge, and unfortunately lost by a majority of seventy-eight to fifty-seven. In the year 1796, Mr. Wilberforce renewed his efforts in the Commons. He asked leave to bring in a bill for the abolition of the Slave Trade, but in a limited time. The motion was opposed as before; but on a division, there were for it ninety-three, and against it only sixty-seven. The bill having been brought in, was opposed in its second reading; but it was carried through it by a majority of sixty-four to thirty-one. In a future stage it was opposed again; but it triumphed by a majority of seventy-six to thirty-one. Mr. Elliott was then put into the chair. Several clauses were adopted; and the first of March, 1797, was fixed for the abolition of the Trade: but in the next stage of it, after a long speech from Mr. Dundas, it was lost by a majority of seventy-four against seventy. Mr. Francis, who had made a brilliant speech in the last debate, considering that nothing effectual had been yet done on this great question, and wishing that a practical beginning might be made, brought forward soon afterwards, a motion relative to the improvement of the condition of the slaves in the West Indies. This, after a short debate, was negatived without a division. Mr. William Smith also moved an address to His Majesty, that he would be pleased to give directions to lay before the House copies of the several acts relative to regulations in behalf of the slaves, passed by the different colonial assemblies since the year 1788. This motion was adopted by the House. Thus passed away the session of 1796. In the year 1797, while Mr. Wilberforce was deliberating upon the best measure for the advancement of the cause, Mr. C. Ellis came forward with a new motion. He began by declaring, that he agreed with the abolitionists as to their object; but he differed with them as to the mode of attaining It. The Slave Trade he condemned as a cruel and pernicious system; but, as it had become an inveterate evil, he feared it could not be done away all at once, without injury to the interests of numerous individuals, and even to the Negroes themselves. He concluded by moving an address to His Majesty, humbly requesting, that he would give directions to the governors of the West Indian islands, to recommend it to the colonial assemblies to adopt such measures as might appear to them best calculated to ameliorate the condition of the Negroes, and thereby to remove gradually the Slave Trade; and likewise to assure His Majesty of the readiness of this House to concur in any measure to accelerate this desirable object; This motion was seconded by Mr. Barham, It was opposed, however, by Mr. Wilberforce, Mr. Pitt, and others; but was at length carried by a majority of ninety-nine to sixty-three. In the year 1798, Mr. Wilberforce asked leave to renew his former bill, to abolish the Slave Trade within a limited time. He was supported by Mr. Canning, Mr. Hobhouse, Sir Robert Buxton, Mr. Bouverie, and others. Messrs. Sewell, Bryan Edwards, Henniker, and C. Ellis, took the opposite side of the question. Mr. Ellis, however, observed, that he had no objection to restricting the Slave Trade to plantations already begun in the colonies; and Mr. Barham professed; himself a friend to the abolition, if it; could be accomplished in a reasonable way. On a division, there appeared to be for Mr. Wilberforce's motion eighty-three, but against it eighty-seven. In the year 1799 Mr. Wilberforce, undismayed by these different disappointments, renewed his motion. Colonel M. Wood, Mr. Petrie, and others, among whom were Mr. Windham and Mr. Dundas, opposed it. Mr. Pitt, Mr. Fox, Mr. W. Smith, Sir William Dolben, Sir R. Milbank, Mr. Hobhouse, and Mr. Canning, supported it. Sir R. Milbank contended, that modifications of a system, fundamentally wrong, ought not to be tolerated by the legislature of a free nation, Mr. Hobhouse said, that nothing could be so nefarious as this traffic in blood. It was unjust in its principles it was cruel in its practice: it admitted of no regulation whatever. The abolition of it was called for equally, by morality and sound policy, Mr. Canning exposed the folly of Mr. Dundas, who bad said, that as Parliament had, in the year 1787, left the abolition to the colonial assemblies, it ought not to be taken out of their hands. This great event, he observed, could only be accomplished in two ways; either by these assemblies, or by the Parliament of England. Now the members of the Assembly of Jamaica had professed that they would never abolish the trade. Was it not, therefore, idle to rely upon them for the accomplishment of it? He then took a very comprehensive view of the arguments, which had been offered in the course of the debate, and was severe upon the planters in the House, who, he said, had brought into familiar use certain expressions, with no other view than to throw a veil over their odious system. Among these was, "their right to import labourers." But never was the word "labourers" so prostituted, as when it was used for slaves. Never was the word "right" so prostituted, not even when "the rights of man" were talked of; as when the right to trade in man's blood was asserted, by the members of an enlightened assembly. Never was the right of importing these labourers worse defended than when the antiquity, of the Slave Trade, and its foundation on the ancient acts of parliament, were brought forward in its support. We had been cautioned not to lay our unhallowed hands on the ancient institution of the Slave Trade; nor to subvert a fabric, raised by the wisdom of our ancestors, and consecrated by a lapse of ages. But on what principles did we usually respect the institutions of antiquity? We respected them, when we saw some shadow of departed worth and usefulness; or some memorial of what had been creditable to mankind. But was this the case with the Slave Trade? Had it begun in principles of justice or national honour, which the changes of the world alone had impaired? Had it to plead former services and glories in behalf of its present disgrace? In looking at it we saw nothing but crimes and sufferings from the beginning--nothing but what wounded and convulsed our feelings--nothing but what excited indignation and horror. It had not even to plead what could often be said in favour of the most unjustifiable wars. Though conquest had sometimes originated in ambition, and in the worst of motives, yet the conquerors and the conquered were sometimes blended afterwards into one people; so that a system of common interest arose out of former differences. But where was the analogy of the eases? Was it only at the outset that we could trace violence and injustice on the part of the Slave Trade? Were the oppressors and the oppressed so reconciled, that enmities ultimately ceased? No. Was it reasonable then to urge a prescriptive right, not to the fruits of an ancient and forgotten evil, but to a series of new violences; to a chain of fresh enormities; to cruelties continually repeated; and of which every instance inflicted a fresh calamity, and constituted a separate and substantial crime? The debate being over, the House divided; when it appeared that there were for Mr. Wilberforce's motion seventy-four, but against it eighty-two. The motion for the general abolition of the Slave Trade having been thus lost again in the Commons, a new motion was made there soon after, by Mr. Henry Thornton, on the same subject. The prosecution of this traffic, on certain parts of the coast of Africa, had become so injurious to the new settlement at Sierra Leone, that not only its commercial prospects were but its safety endangered. Mr. Thornton, therefore brought in a bill to confine the Slave Trade within certain limits. But even this bill, though it had for its object only to free a portion of the coast from the ravages of this traffic, was opposed by Mr. Gascoyne, Dent, and others. Petitions also were presented against it. At length, after two divisions, on the first of which there were thirty-two votes to twenty-seven, and on the second thirty-eight to twenty-two, it passed through all its stages. When it was introduced into the Lords the petitions were renewed against it. Delay also was interposed to its progress by the examination of witnesses. It was not till the fifth of July that the matter was brought to issue. The opponents of the bill, at that time, were the Duke of Clarence, Lord Westmoreland, Lord Thurlow, and the Lords Douglas and Hay, the two latter being Earls of Morton and Kinnoul, in Scotland. The supporters of it were Lord Grenville, who introduced it, Lord Loughborough, Lord Holland, and Dr. Horsley, Bishop of Rochester: the latter was peculiarly eloquent. He began his speech, by arraigning the injustice and impolicy of the trade:--"injustice," he said, "which no considerations of policy could extenuate; impolicy, equal in degree to its injustice." He well knew that the advocates for the Slave Trade had endeavoured to represent the project for abolition, as a branch of jacobinism; but they who supported it proceeded upon no visionary motives of equality, or of the imprescriptible rights of man. They strenuously upheld the gradations of civil society: but they did, indeed, affirm that these gradations were, both ways, both as they ascended and as they descended, limited. There was an existence of power, to which no good king would aspire; and there was an extreme condition of subjection, to which man could not be degraded without injustice; and this they would maintain, was the condition of the African, who was torn away into slavery. He then explained the limits of that portion of Africa, which the bill intended to set apart as sacred to peace and liberty. He showed that this was but one-third of the coast; and, therefore, that two-thirds were yet left for the diabolical speculations of the slave merchants. He expressed his surprise that such witnesses, as those against the bill, should have been introduced at all: he affirmed that their oaths were falsified by their own log-books; and that, from their own accounts, the very healthiest of their vessels were little better than pestilential gaols. Mr. Robert Hume, one of these witnesses, had made a certain voyage: he had made it in thirty-three days: he had shipped two hundred and sixty-five slaves, and he had lost twenty-three of them. If he had gone on losing his slaves, all of whom were under twenty-five years of age, at this rate, it was obvious, that he would have lost two hundred and fifty-three of them, if his passage had lasted for a year. Now, in London only, seventeen would have died of that age, out of one thousand within the latter period. After having exposed the other voyages of Mr. Hume in a similar manner, he entered into a commendation of the views of the Sierra Leone company, and then defended the character of the Africans in their own country, as exhibited in the Travels of Mr. Mungo Park. He made a judicious discrimination with respect to slavery, as it existed among them: he showed that this slavery was analogous to that of the heroic and patriarchal ages, and contrasted it with the West Indian in an able manner. He adverted, lastly, to what had fallen from the learned counsel, who had supported the petitions of the slave-merchants. One of them had put this question to their Lordships, "If the Slave Trade were as wicked as it had been represented, why was there no prohibition of it in the Holy Scriptures?" He then entered into a full defence of the Scriptures on this ground, which he concluded by declaring, that, as St. Paul had coupled men-stealers with murderers, he had condemned the Slave Trade in one of its most productive modes, and generally in all its modes. And here it is worthy of remark, that the word used by the apostle on this occasion, and which has been translated men-stealers, should have been rendered slave traders. This was obvious from the scholiast of Aristophanes, whom he quoted. It was clear, therefore, that the Slave Trade, if murder was forbidden, had been literally forbidden also. The learned counsel, too, had admonished their lordships, to beware how they adopted the visionary projects of fanatics. He did not know in what direction this shaft was shot; and he cared not. It did not concern him. With the highest reverence for the religion of the land, with the firmest conviction of its truth, and with the deepest sense of the importance Of its doctrines, he was proudly conscious, that the general shape and fashion of his life bore nothing of the stamp of fanaticism. But he begged leave, in his turn, to address a word of serious exhortation to their lordships. He exhorted them to beware how they were persuaded to bury, under the opprobrious name of fanaticism, the regard which they owed to the great duties of mercy and justice, for the neglect of which (if they should neglect them) they would be answerable at that tribunal, where no prevarication of witnesses could misinform the judge; and where no subtlety of an advocate, miscalling the names of things, putting evil for good and good for evil, could mislead his judgment. At length the debate ended: when the bill was lost by a majority of sixty-eight to sixty-one, including personal votes and proxies. I cannot conclude this chapter without offering a few remarks. And, first, I may observe, as the substance of the debates has not been given for the period which it contains, that Mr. Wilberforce, upon whom too much praise cannot be bestowed for his perseverance from year to year, amidst the disheartening circumstances which attended his efforts, brought every new argument to which either the discovery of new light, or the events of the times, produced. I may observe also, in justice to the memories of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, that there was no debate within this period, in which they did not take a part; and in which they did not irradiate others from the profusion of their own light; and thirdly, that in consequence of the efforts of the three, conjoined with those of others, the great cause of the abolition was secretly gaining ground. Many members who were not connected with the trade, but who had yet hitherto supported it, were on the point of conversion. Though the question had oscillated backwards and forwards, so that an ordinary spectator could have discovered no gleam of hope at these times, nothing is more certain, than that the powerful eloquence then displayed had smoothed the resistance to it, had shortened its vibrations, and had prepared it for a state of rest. With respect to the West-Indians themselves, some of them began to see through the mists of prejudice, which had covered them. In the year 1794, when the bill for the abolition of the foreign Slave Trade was introduced, Mr. Vaughan and Mr. Barham supported it. They called upon the planters in the House to give way to humanity, where their own interests could not be affected by their submission. This, indeed, may be said to have been no mighty thing; but it was a frank confession of the injustice of the Slave Trade, and the beginning of the change which followed, both with respect to themselves and others. With respect to the old friends of the cause, it is with regret I mention, that it lost the support of Mr. Windham within this period; and this regret is increased by the consideration, that he went off on the avowed plea of expediency against moral rectitude; a doctrine, which, at least upon this subject, he had reprobated for ten years. It was, however, some consolation, as far as talents were concerned, (for there can be none for the loss of virtuous feeling,) that Mr. Canning, a new member, should have so ably supplied his place. Of the gradual abolitionists, whom we have always considered as the most dangerous enemies of the cause, Mr. Jenkinson (afterwards Earl of Liverpool), Mr. Addington (subsequently Lord Sidmouth), and Mr. Dundas (afterwards Lord Melville), continued their opposition during all this time. Of the first two I shall say nothing at present; but I cannot pass over the conduct of the latter. He was the first person, as we have seen, to propose the gradual abolition of the Slave Trade; and he fixed a time for its cessation on the 1st of January, 1800. His sincerity on this occasion was doubted by Mr. Fox at the very outset; for he immediately rose and said, that "something so mischievous had come out, something so like a foundation had been laid for preserving, not only for years to come, but for anything he knew, for ever, this detestable traffic, that he felt it his duty immediately to deprecate all such delusions upon the country." Mr. Pitt, who spoke soon afterwards, in reply to an argument advanced by Mr. Dundas, maintained, that "at whatever period the House should say that the Slave Trade should actually cease, this defence would equally be set up; for it would be just as good an argument in seventy years hence, as it was against the abolition then." And these remarks Mr. Dundas verified in a singular manner within this period: for in the year 1796, when his own bill, as amended in the Commons, was to take place, he was one of the most strenuous opposers of it; and in the year 1799, when in point of consistency it devolved upon him to propose it to the House, in order that the trade might cease on the 1st of January, 1800, (which was the time of his own original choice, or a time unfettered by parliamentary amendment,) he was the chief instrument of throwing out Mr. Wilberforce's bill, which promised even a longer period to its continuance: so that it is obvious, that there was no time, within his own limits, when the abolition would have suited him, notwithstanding his profession, "that he had always been a warm advocate for the measure." CHAPTER XXXI. Continuation from July 1799 to July 1805.--Various motions within this period. The question had now been brought forward in almost every possible way, and yet had been eventually lost. The total and immediate abolition had been attempted; and then the gradual. The gradual again had been tried for the year 1798, then for 1795, and then for 1796, at which period it was decreed, but never allowed to be executed. An Abolition of a part of the trade, as it related to the supply of foreigners with slaves, was the next measure proposed; and when this failed, the abolition of another part of it, as it related to the making of a certain portion of the coast of Africa sacred to liberty, was attempted; but this failed also. Mr. Wilberforce therefore thought it prudent, not to press the abolition as a mere annual measure, but to allow members time to digest the eloquence, which had been bestowed upon it for the last five years, and to wait till some new circumstances should favour its introduction. Accordingly he allowed the years 1800, 1801, 1802, and 1803, to pass over without any further parliamentary notice than the moving for certain papers; during which he took an opportunity of assuring the House, that he had not grown cool in the cause, but that he would agitate it in a future session. In the year 1804, which was fixed upon for renewed exertion, the committee for the abolition of the Slave Trade elected James Stephen, Zachary Macaulay, Henry Brougham, Esqrs., and William Phillips, into their own body. Four other members, also, Robert Grant, and John Thornton, Esqrs., and William Manser and William Allen, were afterwards added to the list. Among, the reasons for fixing upon this year, one may be assigned, namely, that the Irish members, in consequence of the union which had taken place between the two countries, had then all taken their seats in the House of Commons; and that most of them were friendly to the cause. This being the situation of things, Mr. Wilberforce, on the 30th of March, asked leave to renew his bill for the abolition of the Slave Trade within a limited time, Mr. Fuller opposed the motion. A debate ensued. Colonel Tarleton, Mr. Devaynes, Mr. Addington, and Mr. Manning spoke against it, however, notwithstanding his connection with the West Indies, said he would support it, if an indemnification were offered to the planters, in case any actual loss should accompany the measure. Sir William Geary questioned the propriety of immediate abolition. Sir Robert Buxton, Mr. Pitt, Mr. Fox, and Mr. Barbara spoke in favour of the motion. Mr. William Smith rose, when the latter had seated himself, and complimented him on this change of sentiment, so honourable to him, inasmuch as he had espoused the cause of humanity against his supposed interest as a planter. Mr. Leigh said that he would not tolerate such a traffic for a moment. All the feelings of nature revolted at it. Lord de Blaquiere observed, "it was the first time the question had been proposed to Irishmen as legislators. He believed it would be supported by most of them. As to the people of Ireland, he could pledge himself that they were hostile to this barbarous traffic." An amendment having been proposed by Mr. Manning, a division took place upon it, when leave was given to bring in the bill, by a majority of one hundred and twenty-four to forty-nine. On the 7th of June, when the second reading of the bill was moved, it was opposed by Sir W. Yonge, Dr. Laurence, Mr. C. Brook, Mr. Dent, and others. Among these Lord Castlereagh professed himself a friend to the abolition of the trade, but he differed as to the mode. Sir J. Wrottesley approved of the principle of the bill, but would oppose it in some of its details. Mr. Windham allowed the justice, but differed as to the expediency, of the measure. Mr. Deverell professed himself to have been a friend to it; but he had then changed his mind. Sir Laurence Parsons wished to see a plan for the gradual extinction of the trade. Lord Temple affirmed that the bill would seal the death-warrant of every White inhabitant of the islands. The second reading was supported by Sir Ralph Milbank, Messrs. Pitt, Fox, William Smith, Whitbread, Francis, Barham, and Grenfell, and Sir John Newport. Mr. Grenfell observed, that he could not give a silent vote, when the character of the country was concerned. When the question of the abolition first came before the public, he was a warm friend to it; and from that day to this he had cherished the same feelings. He assured Mr. Wilberforce of his constant support. Sir John Newport stated that the Irish nation took a virtuous interest in this noble cause. He ridiculed the idea that the trade and manufactures of the country would suffer by the measure in contemplation; but, even if they should suffer, he would oppose it. "Fiat justitia, ruat coelura," Upon a division, there appeared for the second reading one hundred, and against it forty-two. On the 12th of June, when a motion was made to go into a committee upon the bill, it was opposed by Messrs. Fuller, C. Brook, C. Ellis, Dent, Deverell, and Manning: and it was supported by Sir Robert Buxton, Mr. Barham, and the Hon. J.S. Cocks. The latter condemned the imprudence of the planters. Instead of profiting by the discussions, which had taken place, and making wise provisions against the great event of the abolition, which would sooner or later take place, they had only thought of new stratagems to defeat it. He declared his abhorrence of the trade, which he considered to be a national disgrace. The House divided: when there were seventy-nine for the motion, and against it, twenty. On the 27th of June the bill was opposed in its last stage by Sir W. Young, Messrs. Dickenson, Mr. Rose, Addington, and Dent.; and supported by: Messrs. Pitt, W. Smith, Francis, and Barham; when it was carried by a majority of sixty-nine to thirty-six. It was then taken up to the Lords; but on a motion of Lord Hawkesbury, then a member of that House, the discussion of it was postponed to the next year. The session being ended, the committee for the abolition of the Slave Trade, increased its number, by the election of the Right Honourable Lord Teignmouth, Dr. Dickson, and Wilson Birkbeek, as members. In the year 1805, Mr. Wilberforce renewed his motion of the former year. Colonel Tarleton, Sir William Yonge, Mr. Puller, and Mr. Gascoyne opposed it. Leave, however, was given him to introduce his bill. On the second reading of it, a serious opposition took place; and an amendment was moved for postponing it till that day six months. The amendment was opposed by Mr. Fox and Mr. Huddlestone. The latter could not help lifting his voice against this monstrous traffic in the sinews and blood of man, the toleration of which had so long been the disgrace of the British legislature. He did not charge the enormous guilt resulting from it upon the nation at large; for the nation had washed its hands of it by the numerous petitions it had sent against it; and it had since been a matter of astonishment to all Christendom, how the constitutional guardians of British freedom should have sanctioned elsewhere the greatest system of cruelty and oppression in the world. He said that a curse attended this trade even in the mode of defending it. By a certain fatality, none but the vilest arguments were brought forward, which corrupted the very persons who used them. Every one of these was built on the narrow ground of interest--of pecuniary profit--of sordid gain--in opposition to every high consideration--to every motive that had reference to humanity, justice, and religion--or to that great principle which comprehended them all. Place only before the most determined advocate of this odious traffic the exact image of himself in the garb and harness of a slave, dragged and whipped about like a beast; place this image also before him, and paint it as that of one without a ray of hope to cheer him; and you would extort from him the reluctant confession, that he would not endure for an hour the misery to which he condemned his fellow-man for life. How dared he, then, to use this selfish plea of interest against the voice of the generous sympathies of his nature? But even upon this narrow ground, the advocates for the traffic had been defeated. If the unhallowed argument of expediency was worth anything when opposed to moral rectitude, or if it were to supercede precepts of Christianity, where was a man to stop, on what was he to draw? For anything he knew, it might be physically true, that human blood was the best manure for the land; but who ought to shed it on that account? True expediency, however, was, where it ever would be found, on the side of that system which was most merciful and just. He asked how it happened, that sugar could be imported cheaper from the East Indies than from the West, notwithstanding the vast difference of the length of the voyages, but on account of the impolicy of slavery; or that it was made in the former case by the industry of free men, and in the latter by the languid drudgery of slaves. As he had had occasion to advert to the Eastern part of the world, he would make an observation upon an argument, which had been collected from that quarter. The condition of the Negroes in the West Indies had been lately compared with that of the Hindoos. But he would observe that the Hindoo, miserable as his hovel was, had sources of pride and happiness, to which not only the West Indian slave, but even his master, was a stranger. He was to be sure a peasant; and his industry was subservient to the gratifications of an European lord; but he was, in his own belief, vastly superior to him. He viewed him as one of the lowest cast. He would not on any consideration eat from the same plate. He would not suffer his son to marry the daughter of his master, even if she could bring him all the West Indies as her portion. He would observe, too, that the Hindoo peasant drank his water from his native well; that, if his meal were scanty, he received it from the hand of her, who was most dear to him; that, when he laboured, he laboured for her and his offspring. His daily task being finished, he reposed with his family. No retrospect of the happiness of former days, compared with existing misery, disturbed his slumber, nor horrid dreams occasioned him to wake in agony at the dawn of day. No barbarous sounds of cracking whips reminded him, that with the form and image of a man his destiny was that of the beast of the field. Let the advocates for the bloody traffic state what they had to set off on their side of the question against the comforts and independence of the man, with whom they compared the slave. The amendment was supported by Sir William Yonge, Sir William Pulteney, Colonel Tarleton, Messrs. Gascoyne, C. Brook, and Hiley Addington. On dividing the House upon it, there appeared for it seventy-seven, but against it only seventy. This loss of the question, after it had been carried in the last year by so great a majority, being quite unexpected, was a matter of severe disappointment; and might have discouraged the friends of the cause in this infancy of their renewed efforts, if they had not discovered the reason of its failure. After due consideration it appeared, that no fewer than nine members, who had never been absent once in sixteen years when it was agitated, gave way to engagements on the day of the motion, from a belief that it was safe. It appeared also, that out of the great number of Irish members, who supported it in the former year, only nine were in the House, when it was lost. It appeared also that, previously to this event, a canvass, more importunate than had heard of on any former occasion, had been made among the latter by those interested in the continuance of the trade. Many of these, unacquainted with the detail of the subject, like the English members, admitted the dismal representations, which were then made to them. The desire, of doing good on the one hand, and the fear of doing injury on the other, perplexed them; and in this dubious state they absented themselves at the time mentioned. The causes of the failure having been found accidental, and capable of a remedy, it was resolved that an attempt should be made immediately in the House in a new form. Lord Henry Petty signified his intention of bringing in a bill for the abolition of the foreign part of the Slave Trade; but the impeachment of Lord Melville, and other weighty matters coming on, the notice was not acted upon in that session. CHAPTER XXXII. --Continuation from July 1805 to July 1806--Author returns to his duty in the committee--Travels again round the kingdom--Death of Mr. Pitt--His character, as it related to the question--Motion for the abolition of the foreign Slave-Trade--Resolution to take measures for the total abolition of it--Address to the King to negotiate with foreign powers for their concurrence in it--Motion to prevent any new vessel going into the trade--these carried through both Houses of Parliament. It was now almost certain, to the inexpressible joy of the committee, that the cause, with proper vigilance, could be carried in the next session in the House of Commons. It became them therefore to prepare to support it. In adverting to measures for this purpose, it occurred to them, that the House of Lords, if the question should be then carried to them from the Commons, might insist upon hearing evidence on the general subject. But, alas, even the body of witnesses, which had been last collected, was broken by death or dispersion! It was therefore to be formed again. In this situation it devolved upon me, as I had now returned to the committee after an absence of nine years, to take another journey for this purpose. This journey I performed with extraordinary success. In the course of it I had also much satisfaction on another account. I found the old friends of the cause still faithful to it. It was remarkable, however, that the youth of the rising generation knew but little about the question. For the last eight or nine years the committee had not circulated any books; and the debates in the Commons during that time had not furnished them with the means of an adequate knowledge concerning it. When, however, I conversed with these, as I travelled along, I discovered a profound attention to what I said; an earnest desire to know more of the subject; and a generous warmth in favour of the injured Africans, which I foresaw could soon be turned into enthusiasm. Hence I perceived that the cause furnished us with endless sources of rallying: and that the ardour which we had seen with so much admiration in former years, could be easily renewed. I had scarcely finished my journey, when Mr. Pitt died. This event took place in January 1806, I shall stop therefore to make a few observations upon his character, as it related to this cause. This I feel myself bound in justice to do, because his sincerity towards it has been generally questioned. The way, in which Mr. Pitt became acquainted with this question, has already been explained. A few doubts having been removed, when it was first started, he professed himself a friend to the abolition. The first proof, which he gave of his friendship to it is known but to few; but it is, nevertheless, true, that so early as in 1788, he occasioned a communication to be made to the French government, in which he recommended an union of the two countries for the promotion of the great measure. This proposition seemed to be then new and strange to the Court of France; and the answer was not favourable. From this time his efforts were reduced within the boundaries of his own power. As far, however, as he had scope, he exerted them. If we look at him in his parliamentary capacity, it must be acknowledged by all, that he took an active, strenuous, and consistent part, and this year after year, by which he realized his professions. In my own private communications with him, which were frequent, he never failed to give proofs of a similar disposition. I had always free access to him. I had no previous note or letter to write for admission. Whatever papers I wanted, he ordered. He exhibited also in his conversation with me on these occasions marks of a more than ordinary interest in the welfare of the cause. Among the subjects, which were then started, there was one, which was always near his heart. This was the civilization of Africa. He looked upon this great work as a debt due to that continent for the many injuries we had inflicted upon it: and had the abolition succeeded sooner, as in the infancy of his exertions he had hoped, I know he had a plan, suited no doubt to the capaciousness of his own mind, for such establishments in Africa, as he conceived would promote in due time this important end. I believe it will be said, notwithstanding what I have advanced, that if Mr. Pitt had exerted himself as the Minister of this country in behalf of the abolition, he could have carried it. This brings the matter to an issue; for unquestionably the charge of insincerity, as it related to this great question, arose from the mistaken notion, that, as his measures in Parliament were supported by great majorities, he could do as he pleased there. But they who hold this opinion, must be informed, that there were great difficulties, against which he had to struggle on this subject! The Lord Chancellor Thurlow ran counter to his wishes almost at the very outset. Lord Liverpool, and Mr. Dundas, did the same. Thus, to go no further, three of the most powerful members of the cabinet were in direct opposition to him. The abolition then, amidst this difference of opinion, could never become a cabinet measure; but if so, then all his parliamentary efforts in this case wanted their usual authority, and he could only exert his influence as a private man[A]. [Footnote A: This he did with great effect on one or two occasions. On the motion of Mr. Cawthorne in 1791, the cause hung as it were by a thread; and would have failed that day, to my knowledge, but for his seasonable exertions.] But a difficulty, still more insuperable, presented itself, in an occurrence which took place in the year 1791, but which is much too delicate to be mentioned. The explanation of it, however, would convince the reader, that all the efforts of Mr. Pitt from that day were rendered useless, I mean, as to bringing the question, as a Minister of State, to a favourable issue. But though Mr. Pitt did not carry this great question, he was yet one of the greatest supporters of it; He fostered it in its infancy. If, in his public situation, he had then set his face against it, where would have been our hope? He upheld it also in its childhood; and though in this state of its existence it did not gain from his protection all the strength Which it was expected it would have acquired, he yet kept it from falling, till his successors, in whose administration a greater number Of favourable circumstances concurred to give it vigour, brought it to triumphant maturity. Lord Grenville and Mr. Fox, having been called to the head of the executive government on the death of Mr. Pitt, the cause was ushered into Parliament under new auspices. In a former year His Majesty had issued a proclamation by which British merchants were forbidden (with certain defined exceptions) to import slaves into the colonies, which had been conquered by the British arms in the course of the war. This circumstance afforded an opportunity of trying the question in the House of Commons with the greatest hope of success. Accordingly Sir A. Pigott, the Attorney-General, as an officer of the crown, brought in a bill on the thirty-first of March 1806, the first object of which was, to give effect to the proclamation now mentioned. The second was, to prohibit British subjects from being engaged in importing slaves into the colonies of any foreign power whether hostile or neutral. And the third was, to prohibit British subjects and British capital from being employed in carrying on the Slave Trade in foreign ships; and also to prevent the outfit of foreign ships from British ports. Sir A. Pigott, on the introduction of this bill, made an appropriate speech. The bill was supported by Mr. Fox, Sir William Yonge, Mr. Brook, and Mr. Bagwell; but opposed by Generals Tarleton and Gascoyne, Mr. Rose, Sir Robert Peel, and Sir Charles Price. On the third reading, a division being called for, there appeared for it thirty-five, and against it only thirteen. On the 7th of May it was introduced into the Lords. The supporters of it there were, the Duke of Gloucester, Lord Grenville, the Bishops of London and St. Asaph, the Earl of Buckinghamshire and the Lords Holland, Lauderdale, Auckland, Sidmouth, and Ellenborough. The opposers were, the Dukes of Clarence and Sussex, the Marquis of Sligo, the Earl of Westmoreland, and the Lords Eldon and Sheffield. At length a division took place, when there appeared to be in favour of it thirty-three, and against it eighteen. During the discussions, to which this bill gave birth, Lord Grenville and Mr. Fox declared in substance, in their respective Houses of Parliament, that they felt the question of the Slave Trade to be one, which involved the dearest interests of humanity, and the most urgent claims of policy, justice, and religion; and that, should they succeed in affecting its abolition, they would regard that success as entailing more true glory on their administration, and more honour and advantage on their country, than any other measure, in which they could he engaged. The bill having passed, (the first, which dismembered this cruel trade,) it was thought proper to follow it up in a prudent manner; and, as there was not then time in the advanced period of the session to bring in another for the total extinction of it, to move a resolution, by which both Houses should record those principles, on which the propriety of the latter measure was founded. It was judged also expedient that Mr. Fox, as the Prime Minister in the House of Commons, should introduce it there. On the 10th of June Mr. Fox rose. He began by saying that the motion, with which he should conclude, would tend in its consequences to effect the total abolition of the Slave Trade; and he confessed that, since he had sat in that House (a period of between thirty and forty years), if he had done nothing else, but had only been instrumental in carrying through this measure, he should think his life well spent; and should retire quite satisfied, that he had not lived in vain. In adverting to the principle of the trade, he noticed some strong expressions of Mr. Burke concerning it. "To deal in human flesh and blood," said that great man, "or to deal, not in the labour of men, but in men themselves, was to devour the root, instead of enjoying the fruit of human diligence." Mr. Fox then took a view of the opinions of different members of the House on this great question; and showed that, though many had opposed the abolition, all but two or three, among whom were the members for Liverpool, had confessed, that the trade ought to be done away. He then went over the different resolutions of the House on the subject, and concluded from thence, that they were bound to support his motion. He combated the argument, that the abolition would ruin the West Indian islands. In doing this he paid a handsome compliment to the memory of Mr. Pitt, whose speech upon this particular point was, he said, the most powerful and convincing of any he had ever heard. Indeed they, who had not; heard it, could have no notion of it. It was a speech, of which he would say with the Roman author, reciting the words of the Athenian orator, "Quid esset, si ipsum audivissetis!" It was a speech no less remarkable for splendid eloquence, than for solid sense and convincing reason; supported by calculations founded on facts, and conclusions drawn from premises, as correctly as if they had been mathematical propositions; all tending to prove that, instead of the West Indian plantations suffering an injury, they would derive a material benefit by the abolition of the Slave Trade. He then called upon the friends of this great man to show their respect for his memory by their votes; and he concluded with moving, "that this House, considering the African Slave Trade to be contrary to the principles of justice, humanity, and policy, will, with all practicable expedition, take effectual measures for the abolition of the said trade, in such a manner, and at such a period, as may be deemed advisable." Sir Ralph Milbank rose, and seconded the motion. General Tarleton rose next. He deprecated the abolition, on account of the effect which it would have on the trade and revenue of the country. Mr. Francis said the merchants of Liverpool were at liberty to ask for compensation; but he, for one, would never grant it for the loss of a trade, which had been declared to be contrary to humanity and justice. As an uniform friend to this great cause, he wished Mr. Fox had not introduced a resolution, but a real bill for the abolition of the Slave Trade. He believed that both Houses were then disposed to do it away. He wished the golden opportunity might not be lost. Lord Castlereagh thought it a proposition, on which no one could entertain a doubt, that the Slave Trade was a great evil in itself; and that it was the duty and policy of Parliament to extirpate it; but he did not think the means offered were adequate to the end proposed. The abolition, as a political question, was a difficult one. The year 1796 had been once fixed upon by the House, as the period when the trade was to cease; but, when the time arrived, the resolution was not executed. This was a proof, either that the House did not wish for the event, or that they judged it impracticable. It would be impossible, he said, to get other nations to concur in the measure; and even if they were to concur, it could not be effected. We might restrain the subjects of the parent-state from following the trade; but we could not those in our colonies. A hundred frauds would be committed by these, which we could not detect. He did not mean by this, that the evil was to go on for ever. Had a wise plan been proposed at first, it might have been half-cured by this time. The present resolution would do no good. It was vague, indefinite, and unintelligible. Such resolutions were only the slave-merchants' harvests. They would go for more slaves than usual in the interim. He should have advised a system of duties on fresh importations of slaves, progressively increasing to a certain extent; and that the amount of these duties should be given to the planters, as a bounty to encourage the Negro population upon their estates. Nothing could be done, unless we went hand in hand with the latter. But he should deliver himself more fully on this subject, when any thing specific should be brought forward in the shape of a bill. Sir S. Romilly, the Solicitor-General, differed from Lord Castlereagh; for he thought the resolution of Mr. Fox was very simple and intelligible. If there was a proposition vague and indefinite, it was that advanced by the noble lord, of a system of duties on fresh importations, rising progressively, and this under the patronage and co-operation of the planters. Who could measure the space between the present time and the abolition of the trade, if that measure were to depend upon the approbation of the colonies. The cruelty and injustice of the Slave Trade had been established by evidence beyond a doubt. It had been shown to be carried on by rapine, robbery, and murder; by fomenting and encouraging wars; by false accusations; and imaginary crimes. The unhappy victims were torn away not only in the time of war, but of profound peace. They were then carried across the Atlantic, in a manner too horrible to describe; and afterwards subjected to eternal slavery. In support of the continuance of such a traffic, he knew of nothing but assertions already disproved, and arguments already refuted. Since the year 1796, when it was to cease by a resolution of Parliament, no less than three hundred and sixty thousand Africans had been torn away from their native land. What an accumulation was this to our former guilt! General Gascoyne made two extraordinary assertions: First, that the trade was defensible on Scriptural ground.--"Both thy bondmen and thy bondmaids, which thou shalt have, shall be of the heathen, that are round about thee; of them shall you have bondmen and bondmaids. And thou shalt take them as an heritance for thy children after thee to inherit them for a possession; they shall be thy bondmen for ever." Secondly, that the trade had been so advantageous to this country, that it would have been advisable even to institute a new one, if the old had not existed. Mr. Wilberforce replied to General Gascoyne. He then took a view of the speech of Lord Castlereagh, which he answered point by point. In the course of his observations he showed that the system of duties progressively increasing, as proposed by the noble lord, would be one of the most effectual modes of perpetuating the Slave Trade. He exposed, also, the false foundation of the hope of any reliance on the co-operation of the colonists. The House, he said, had, on the motion of Mr. Ellis, in the year 1797, prayed his Majesty to consult with the colonial legislatures to take such measures, as might conduce to the gradual abolition of the African Slave Trade. This address was transmitted to them by Lord Melville. It was received in some of the islands with a declaration, "that they possibly might, in some instances, endeavour to improve the condition of their slaves; but they should do this, not with any view to the abolition of the Slave Trade; for they considered that trade as their birth-right, which could not be taken from them; and that we should deceive ourselves by supposing, that they would agree to such a measure." He desired to add to this the declaration of General Prevost in his public letter from Dominica. Did he not say, when asked what steps had been taken there in consequence of the resolution of the House in 1797, "that the act of the legislature, entitled an act for the encouragement, protection, and better government of slaves, appeared to him to have been considered, from the day it was passed until this hour, as a political measure to avert the interference of the mother country in the management of the slaves." Sir William Yonge censured the harsh language of Sir Samuel Romilly, who had applied the terms rapine, robbery, and murder to those, who were connected with the Slave Trade. He considered the resolution of Mr. Fox as a prelude to a bill for the abolition of that traffic, and this bill as a prelude to emancipation, which would not only be dangerous in itself, but would change the state of property in the islands. Lord Henry Petty, after having commented on the speeches of Sir Samuel Romilly and Lord Castlereagh, proceeded to state his own opinion on the trade; which was, that it was contrary to justice, humanity, and sound policy, all of which he considered to be inseparable. On its commencement in Africa the wickedness began. It produced there fraud and violence, robbery and murder. It gave birth to false accusations, and a mockery of justice. It was the parent of every crime, which could at once degrade and afflict the human race. After spreading vice and misery all over this continent, it doomed its unhappy victims to hardships and cruelties which were worse than death. The first of these was conspicuous in their transportation. It was found there, that cruelty begat cruelty; that the system, wicked in its beginning, was equally so in its progress; and that it perpetuated its miseries wherever it was carried on. Nor was it baneful only to the objects, but to the promoters of it. The loss of British seamen in this traffic was enormous. One-fifth of all, who were employed in it, perished; that is, they became the victims of a system, which was founded on fraud, robbery, and murder; and which procured to the British nation nothing but the execration of mankind. Nor had we yet done with the evils which attended it; for it brought in its train the worst of all moral effects, not only as it respected the poor slaves, when transported to the colonies, but as it respected those who had concerns with them there. The arbitrary power, which it conferred, afforded men of bad dispositions full scope for the exercise of their passions; and it rendered men, constitutionally of good dispositions, callous to the misery of others. Thus it depraved the nature of all who were connected with it. These considerations had made him a friend to the abolition, from the time he was capable of reasoning upon it. They were considerations, also, which determined the House, in the year 1782, to adopt a measure of the same kind as the present. Had anything happened to change the opinion of members, since? On the contrary, they had now the clearest evidence, that all the arguments then used against the abolition were fallacious; being founded, not upon truth, but on assertions devoid of all truth, and derived from ignorance or prejudice. Having made these remarks, he proved, by a number of facts, the folly of the argument, that the Africans laboured under such a total degradation of mental and moral faculties, that they were made for slavery. He then entered into the great subject of population. He showed that in all countries, where there were no unnatural hardships, mankind would support themselves. He applied this reasoning to the Negro population in the West Indies; which he maintained could not only be kept up, but increased, without any further importations from Africa. He then noticed the observations of Sir William Yonge, on the words of Sir Samuel Romilly; and desired him to reserve his indignation for those, who were guilty of acts of rapine, robbery, and murder, instead of venting it on those, who only did their duty in describing them. Never were accounts more shocking than those lately sent to government from the West Indies. Lord Seaforth, and the Attorney-General, could not refrain, in explaining them, from the use of the words murder and torture. And did it become members of that House (in order to accommodate the nerves of the friends of the Slave Trade) to soften down their expressions, when they were speaking on that subject; and to desist from calling that murder and torture, for which a Governor, and the Attorney-General, of one of the islands could find no better name? After making observations relative to the co-operation of foreign powers in this great work, he hoped that the House would not suffer itself to be drawn, either by opposition or by ridicule, to the right or to the left; but that it would advance straight forward to the accomplishment of the most magnanimous act of justice, that was ever achieved by any legislature in the world. Mr. Rose declared, that on the very first promulgation of this question, he had proposed to the friends of it the very plan of his noble friend Lord Castlereagh; namely, a system of progressive duties, and of bounties for the promotion of the Negro population. This he said to show that he was friendly to the principle of the measure. He would now observe, that he did not wholly like the present resolution. It was too indefinite. He wished, also, that something had been said on the subject of compensation. He was fearful, also, lest the abolition should lead to the dangerous change of emancipation. The Negroes, he said, could not be in a better state, or more faithful to their masters, than they were. In three attacks made by the enemy on Dominica, where he had a large property, arms had been put into their hands; and every one of them had exerted himself faithfully. With respect to the cruel acts in Barbados, an account of which had been sent to government by Lord Seaforth and the Attorney-General of Barbados, he had read them; and never had he read anything on this subject with more horror. He would agree to the strongest measures for the prevention of such acts in future. He would even give up the colony, which should refuse to make the wilful murder of a slave felony. But as to the other, or common, evils complained of, he thought the remedy should be gradual; and such also as the planters would concur in. He, would nevertheless not oppose the present resolution. Mr. Barham considered compensation but reasonable, where losses were to accrue from the measure, when it should be put in execution; but he believed that the amount of it would be much less than was apprehended. He considered emancipation, though so many fears had been expressed about it, as forming no objection to the abolition, though he had estates in the West Indies himself. Such a measure, if it could be accomplished successfully, would be an honour to the country, and a blessing to the planters; but preparation must be made for it by rendering the slaves fit for freedom, and by creating in them an inclination to free labour. Such a change could only be the work of time. Sir John Newport said that the expressions of Sir S. Romilly, which had given such offence, had been used by others; and would be used with propriety, while the trade lasted. Some slave-dealers of Liverpool had lately attempted to prejudice certain merchants of Ireland in their favour. But none of their representations answered; and it was remarkable, that the reply made to them was in these words. "We will have no share in a traffic, consisting in rapine, blood, and murder." He then took a survey of a system of duties progressively increasing, and showed that it would be utterly inefficient; and that there was no real remedy for the different evils complained of, but in the immediate prohibition of the trade. Mr. Canning renewed his professions of friendship to the cause. He did not like the present resolution; yet he would vote for it. He should have been better pleased with a bill, which would strike at once at the root of this detestable commerce. Mr. Manning wished the question to be deferred to the next session. He hoped compensation would then be brought forward as connected with it. Nothing, however, effectual could be done without the concurrence of the planters. Mr. William Smith noticed, in a striking manner, the different inconsistencies in the arguments of those, who contended for the continuance of the trade. Mr. Windham deprecated not only the Slave Trade, but slavery also. They were essentially connected with each other. They were both evils, and ought both of them to be done away. Indeed, if emancipation would follow the abolition, he should like the latter measure the better. Rapine, robbery, and murder, were the true characteristics of this traffic. The same epithets had not indeed been applied to slavery, because this was a condition, in which some part of the human race had been at every period of the history of the world. It was, however, a state, which ought not to be allowed to exist. But, notwithstanding all these confessions, he should weigh well the consequences of the abolition before he gave it his support. It would be, on a balance between the evils themselves and the consequences of removing them, that he should decide for himself on this question. Mr. Fox took a view of all the arguments, which had been advanced by the opponents of the abolition; and having given an appropriate answer to each, the House divided, when there appeared for the resolution one hundred and fourteen, and against it but fifteen. Immediately after this division, Mr. Wilberforce moved an address to His Majesty, "praying that he would be graciously pleased to direct a negotiation to be entered into, by which foreign powers should be invited to co-operate with His Majesty in measures to be adopted for the abolition of the African Slave Trade." This address was carried without a division. It was also moved and carried, that "these resolutions be communicated to the Lords; and that their concurrence should be desired therein." On the 24th of June, the Lords met to consider of the resolution and address. The Earl of Westmoreland proposed that both counsel and evidence should be heard against them; but his proposition was overruled. Lord Grenville then read the resolution of the Commons. This resolution, he said, stated first, that the Slave Trade was contrary to humanity, justice, and sound policy. That it was contrary to humanity was obvious; for humanity might be said to be sympathy for the distress of others, or a desire to accomplish benevolent ends by good means. But did not the Slave Trade convey ideas the very reverse of this definition? It deprived men of all those comforts, in which it pleased the Creator to make the happiness of his creatures to consist,--of the blessings of society,--of the charities of the dear relationships of husband, wife, father, son, and kindred,--of the due discharge of the relative duties of these--and of that freedom, which in its pure and natural sense was one of the greatest gifts of God to man. It was impossible to read the evidence, as it related to this trade, without acknowledging the inhumanity of it, and our own disgrace. By what means was it kept up in Africa? By wars instigated, not by the passions of the natives, but by our avarice. He knew it would be said in reply to this, that the slaves, who were purchased by us, would be put to death, if we were not to buy them. But what should we say, if it should turn out, that we were the causes of those very cruelties, which we affected to prevent? But, if it were not so, ought the first nation in the world to condescend to be the executioner of savages? Another way of keeping up the Slave Trade was by the practice of man-stealing. The evidence was particularly clear upon this head. This practice included violence, and often bloodshed. The inhumanity of it therefore could not be doubted. The unhappy victims, being thus procured, were conveyed, he said, across the Atlantic in a manner which justified the charge of inhumanity again. Indeed the suffering here was so great, that neither the mind could conceive, nor the tongue describe, it. He had said on a former occasion, that in their transportation there was a greater portion of misery condensed within a smaller space, than had ever existed in the known world. He would repeat his words; for he did not know, how he could express himself better on the subject. And, after all these horrors, what was their destiny? It was such, as justified the charge in the resolution again: for, after having survived the sickness arising from the passage, they were doomed to interminable slavery. We had been, he said, so much accustomed to words, descriptive of the cruelty of this traffic, that we had almost forgotten their meaning. He wished that some person, educated as an Englishman, with suitable powers of eloquence, but now for the first time informed of all the horrors of it, were to address their lordships upon it, and he was sure, that they would instantly determine that it should cease. But the continuance of it had rendered cruelty familiar to us; and the recital of its horrors, had been so frequent, that we could now hear them stated without being affected as we ought to be. He intreated their lordships, however, to endeavour to conceive the hard case of the unhappy victims of it; and as he had led them to the last stage of their miserable existence, which was in the colonies, to contemplate it there. They were there under the arbitrary will of a cruel task-master from morning till night. When they went to rest, would not their dreams be frightful? When they awoke, would they not awake-- --only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all; but torture without end Still urges?-- They knew no change, except in the humour of their masters, to whom their whole destiny was entrusted. We might, perhaps, flatter ourselves with saying, that they were subject to the will of Englishmen. But Englishmen were not better than others, when in possession of arbitrary power. The very fairest exercise of it was a never-failing corrupter of the heart. But suppose it were allowed that self-interest might operate some little against cruelty; yet where was the interest of the overseer or the driver? But he knew it would be said, that the evils complained of in the colonies had been mitigated. There might be instances of this; but they could never be cured, while slavery existed. Slavery took away more than half of the human character. Hence the practice, where it existed, of rejecting the testimony of the slave: but, if this testimony was rejected, where could be his redress against his oppressor? Having shown the inhumanity, he would proceed to the second point in the resolution, or the injustice of the trade. We had two ideas of justice, first, as it belonged to society by virtue of a social compact; and, secondly, as it belonged to men, not as citizens of a community, but as beings of one common nature. In a state of nature, man had a right to the fruit of his own labour absolutely to himself; and one of the main purposes, for which he entered into society, was that he might be better protected in the possession of his rights. In both cases therefore it was manifestly unjust, that a man should be made to labour during the whole of his life, and yet have no benefit from his labour. Hence the Slave Trade and the colonial slavery were a violation of the very principle, upon which all law for the protection of property was founded. Whatever benefit was derived from that trade, to an individual, it was derived from dishonour and dishonesty. He forced from the unhappy victim of it that, which the latter did not wish to give him; and he gave to the same victim that, which he in vain attempted to show was an equivalent to the thing he took,--it being a thing for which there was no equivalent; and which, if he had not obtained by force, he would not have possessed at all. Nor could there be any answer to this reasoning, unless it could be proved, that it had pleased God to give to the inhabitants of Britain a property in the liberty and life of the natives of Africa. But he would go further on this subject. The injustice complained of was not confined to the bare circumstance of robbing them of the right to their own labour. It was conspicuous throughout the system. They, who bought them, became guilty of all the crimes which had been committed in procuring them, and when they possessed them, of all the crimes which belonged to their inhuman treatment. The injustice in the latter case amounted frequently to murder. For what was it but murder to pursue a practice, which produced untimely death to thousands of innocent and helpless beings? It was a duty, which their lordships owed to their Creator, if they hoped for mercy, to do away this monstrous oppression. With respect to the impolicy of the trade, (the third point in the resolution,) he would say at once, that whatever was inhuman and unjust must be, impolitic. He had, however, no objection to argue the point upon its own particular merits: and, first, he would observe, that a great man, Mr. Pitt, now no more, had exerted his vast powers on many subjects, to the admiration of his hearers; but on none more successfully than on the subject of the abolition of the Slave Trade. He proved, after making an allowance for the price paid for the slaves in the West Indies, for the loss of them in the seasoning, and for the expense of maintaining them afterwards; and comparing these particulars with the amount in value of their labour there, that the evils endured by the victims of the traffic were no gain to the master, in whose service they took place. Indeed, Mr. Long had laid it down in his _History of Jamaica_, that the best way to secure the planters from ruin would be to do that which the resolution recommended. It was notorious, that when any planter was in distress, and sought to relieve himself by increasing the labour on his estate, by means of the purchase of new slaves, the measure invariably tended to his destruction. What then was the importation of fresh Africans, but a system tending to the general ruin of the islands? But it had often been said, that without fresh importations the population of the slaves could not be supported in the islands. This, however, was a mistake. It had arisen from reckoning the deaths of the imported Africans, of whom so many were lost in the seasoning, among the deaths of the Creole slaves. He did not mean to say that, under the existing degree of misery, the population would greatly increase; but, he would maintain, that if the deaths and the births were calculated upon those, who were either born, or who had been a long time in the islands, so as to be considered as natives, it would be found that the population had not only been kept up, but that it had been increased. If it was true, that the labour of a free-man was cheaper than that of a slave; and, also, that the labour of a long-imported slave was cheaper than that of a fresh-imported one; and, again, that the chances of mortality were much more numerous among the newly-imported slaves in the West Indies, than among those of old standing there, (propositions, which he took to be established,) we should see new arguments for the impolicy of the trade. It might be stated also, that the importation of vast bodies of men, who had been robbed of their rights, and grievously irritated on that account, into our colonies, (where their miserable condition opened new sources of anger and revenge,) was the importation only of the seeds of insurrection into them. And here he could not but view with astonishment the reasoning of the West Indian planters, who held up the example of St. Domingo as a warning against the abolition of the Slave Trade; because the continuance of it was one of the great causes of the insurrections and subsequent miseries in that devoted island. Let us but encourage importations in the same rapid progression of increase every year, which took place in St. Domingo, and we should witness the same effect in our own islands. To expose the impolicy of the trade further, he would observe, that it was an allowed axiom, that as the condition of man was improved, he became more useful. The history of our own country, in very early times, exhibited instances of internal slavery, and this to a considerable extent. But we should find that; precisely in proportion as that slavery was ameliorated, the power and prosperity of the country flourished. This was exactly applicable to the case in question. There could be no general amelioration of slavery in the West Indies, while the Slave Trade lasted: but if we were to abolish it, we should make it the interest of every owner of slaves to do that, which would improve their condition, and which, indeed, would lead ultimately to the annihilation of slavery itself. This great event, however, could not be accomplished at once; it could only be effected in a course of time. It would be endless, he said, to go into all the cases, which would manifest the impolicy of this odious traffic. Inhuman as it was, unjust as it was, he believed it to be equally impolitic; and if their Lordships should be of this opinion also, he hoped they would agree to that part of the resolution, in which these truths were expressed. With respect to the other part of it, or that they would proceed to abolish the trade, he observed, that neither the time, nor the manner of doing it, were specified. Hence, if any of them should differ as to these particulars, they, might yet vote for the resolution, as they were not pledged to anything definite in these respects, provided they thought that the trade should be abolished at some time or other: and he did not believe that there was any one of them, who would sanction its continuance for ever. Lord Hawkesbury said, that he did not mean to discuss the question, on the ground of justice and humanity, as contradistinguished from sound policy. If it could fairly be made out that the African Slave Trade was contrary to justice and humanity, it ought to be abolished. It did not, however, follow, because a great evil subsisted, that therefore it should be removed; for it might be comparatively a less evil, than that which would accompany the attempt to remove it. The noble lord, who had just spoken, had exemplified this; for though slavery was a great evil in itself, he was of opinion that it could not be done away, but in a course of time. A state of slavery, he said, had existed in Africa from the earliest time; and, unless other nations would concur with England in the measure of the abolition, we could not change it for the better. Slavery had existed also throughout all Europe. It had now happily, in a great measure, been done away. But how? Not by acts of parliament, for these might have retarded the event, but by the progress of civilization, which removed the evil in a gradual and rational manner. He then went over the same ground of argument, as when a member of the Commons in 1792. He said that the inhumanity of the abolition was visible in this, that not one slave less would be taken from Africa; and that such as were taken from it, would suffer more than they did now, in the hands of foreigners. He maintained also, as before, that the example of St. Domingo afforded one of the strongest arguments against the abolition of the trade. And he concluded by objecting to the resolution, inasmuch as it could do no good, for the substance of it would be to be discussed again in a future session. The Bishop of London, Dr. Porteus, began, by noticing the concession of the last speaker, namely, that if the trade was contrary to humanity and justice, it ought to be abolished. He expected, he said, that the noble lord would have proved that it was not contrary to these great principles, before he had supported its continuance; but not a word had he said to show that the basis of the resolution in these respects was false. It followed then, he thought, that as the noble lord had not disproved the premises; he was bound to abide by the conclusion. The ways, he said, in which the Africans were reduced to slavery in their own country, were by wars,--many of which were excited for the purpose,--by the breaking up of villages, by kidnapping and by conviction for a violation of their own laws. Of the latter class many were accused falsely, and of crimes which did not exist. He then read a number of extracts from the evidence examined before the privy council, and from the histories of those, who, having lived in Africa, had thrown light upon this subject before the question was agitated. All these, he said, (and similar instances could be multiplied,) proved the truth of the resolution, that the African Slave Trade was contrary to the principles of humanity, justice, and sound policy. It was moreover, he said, contrary to the principles of the religion we professed. It was not superfluous to say this, when it had been so frequently asserted that it was sanctioned both by the Jewish and the Christian dispensations. With respect to the Jews he would observe, that there was no such thing as perpetual slavery among them. Their slaves were of two kinds, those of their own nation, and those from the country round about them. The former were to be set free on the seventh year; and the rest, of whatever nation, on the fiftieth, or on the year of Jubilee. With respect to the Christian dispensation, it was a libel to say that it countenanced such a traffic. It opposed it both in its spirit and in its principle; nay, it opposed it positively, for it classed men-stealers, or slave traders, among the murderers of fathers and mothers, and the most profane criminals upon earth. The antiquity of slavery in Africa, which the noble lord had glanced at, afforded, he said, no argument for its continuance. Such a mode of defence would prevent for ever the removal of any evil; it would justify the practice of the Chinese, who exposed their infants in the streets to perish; it would also justify piracy, for that practice existed long before we knew anything of the African Slave Trade. He then combatted the argument, that we did a kindness to the Africans by taking them from their homes; and concluded, by stating to their lordships, that, if they refused to sanction the resolution, they would establish these principles, "that though individuals might not rob and murder, yet that nations might--that though individuals incurred the penalties of death by such practices, yet that bodies of men might commit them with impunity for the purposes of lucre;--and that for such purposes they were not only to be permitted, but encouraged." The Lord Chancellor (Erskine) confessed that he was not satisfied with his own conduct on this subject. He acknowledged, with deep contrition, that, during the time he was a member of the other House, he had not once attended when this great question was discussed. In the West Indies he could say, personally, that the slaves were well treated, where he had an opportunity of seeing them. But no judgment was to be formed there with respect to the evils complained of; they must be appreciated as they existed in the trade. Of these he had also been an eye-witness. It was on this account that he felt contrition for not having attended the House on this subject, for there were some cruelties in this traffic which the human imagination could not aggravate. He had witnessed such scenes over the whole coast of Africa; and he could say, that if their lordships could only have a sudden glimpse of them, they would be struck with horror, and would be astonished that they could ever have been permitted to exist. What then would they say to their continuance year after year, and from age to age? From information, which he could not dispute, he was warranted in saying, that, on this continent, husbands were fraudulently and forcibly severed from their wives, and parents from their children; and that all the ties of blood and affection were torn up by the roots. He had himself seen the unhappy natives put together in heaps in the hold of a ship, where, with every possible attention to them, their situation must have been intolerable. He had also heard proved, in courts of justice, facts still more dreadful than those which he had seen. One of these he would just mention. The slaves on board a certain ship rose in a mass to liberate themselves, and having advanced far in the pursuit of their object, it became necessary to repel them by force. Some of them yielded, some of them were killed in the scuffle, but many of them actually jumped into the sea and were drowned, thus preferring death to the misery of their situation; while others hung to the ship, repenting of their rashness, and bewailing with frightful noises their horrid fate. Thus the whole vessel exhibited but one hideous scene of wretchedness. They who were subdued and secured in chains were seized with the flux, which carried many of them off. These things were proved in a trial before a British jury, which had to consider whether this was a loss which fell within the policy of insurance, the slaves being regarded as if they had been only a cargo of dead matter. He could mention other instances, but they were much too shocking to be described. Surely their lordships could never consider such a traffic to be consistent with humanity or justice. It was impossible. That the trade had long subsisted there was no doubt, but this was no argument for its continuance. Many evils of much longer standing had been done away, and it was always our duty to attempt to remove them. Should we not exult in the consideration, that we, the inhabitants of a small island, at the extremity of the globe, almost at its north pole, were become the morningstar to enlighten the nations of the earth, and to conduct them out of the shades of darkness into the realms of light; thus exhibiting to an astonished and an admiring world the blessings of a free constitution? Let us then not allow such a glorious opportunity to escape us. It had been urged that we should suffer by the abolition of the Slave Trade; he believed that we should not suffer. He believed that our duty and our interest were inseparable; and he had no difficulty in saying, in the face of the world, that his own opinion was, that the interests of a nation would be best preserved by its adherence to the principles of humanity, justice, and religion. The Earl of Westmoreland said, that the African Slave Trade might be contrary to humanity and justice, and yet it might be politic; at least, it might be inconsistent with humanity, and yet not be inconsistent with justice; this was the case when we executed a criminal, or engaged in war. It was, however, not contrary to justice, for justice, in this case, must be measured by the law of nations. But the purchase of slaves was not contrary to this law. The Slave Trade was a trade with the consent of the inhabitants of two nations, and procured by no terror, nor by any act of violence whatever. Slavery had existed from the first ages of the world, not only in Africa, but throughout the habitable globe, among the Persians, Greeks, and Romans; and he would compare, with great advantage to his argument, the wretched condition of the slaves in these ancient states with that of those in our colonies. Slavery too had been allowed in a nation which was under the especial direction of Providence; the Jews were allowed to hold the heathen in bondage. He admitted that what the learned prelate had said relative to the emancipation of the latter in the year of jubilee was correct; but he denied that his quotation relative to the stealers of men referred to the Christian religion. It was a mere allusion to that which was done contrary to the law of nations, which was the only measure of justice between states. With respect to the inhumanity of the trade, he would observe, that if their lordships, sitting there as legislators, were to set their faces against everything which appeared to be inhuman, much of the security on which their lives and property depended might be shaken, if not totally destroyed. The question was, not whether there was not some evil attending the Slave Trade, but whether by the measure now before them they should increase or diminish the quantity of human misery in the world. He believed, for one, considering the internal state of Africa, and the impossibility of procuring the concurrence of foreign nations in the measure, that they would not be able to do any good by the adoption of it. As to the impolicy of the trade, the policy of it, on the other hand, was so great, that he trembled at the consequences of its abolition. The property connected with this question amounted to a hundred millions. The annual produce of the islands was eighteen millions, and it yielded a revenue of four millions annually. How was this immense property and income to be preserved? Some had said it would be preserved, because the black population in the islands could be kept up without further supplies; but the planters denied this assertion, and they were the best judges of the subject. He condemned the resolution as a libel upon the wisdom of the law of the land; and upon the conduct of their ancestors. He condemned it also, because, if followed up, it would lead to the abolition of the trade, and the abolition of the trade to the emancipation of the slaves in our colonies. The Bishop of St. Asaph (Dr. Horsley) said, that, allowing the slaves in the West Indies even to be pampered with delicacies, or to be put to rest on a bed of roses, they could not be happy, for--a slave would be still a slave. The question, however, was not concerning the alteration of their condition, but whether we should abolish the practice, by which they were put in that condition? Whether it was humane, just, and politic in us so to place them? This question was easily answered; for he found it difficult to form any one notion of humanity, which did not include a desire of promoting the happiness of others; and he knew of no other justice than that, which was founded on the principle of doing to others, as we should wish they should do to us. And these principles of humanity and justice were so clear, that he found it difficult to make them clearer. Perhaps no difficulty was greater than that of arguing a self-evident proposition, and such he took to be the character of the proposition, that the Slave Trade was inhuman and unjust. It had been said, that slavery had existed from the beginning of the world. He would allow it. But had such a trade as the Slave Trade ever existed before? Would the noble Earl, who had talked of the slavery of ancient Rome and Greece, assert, that in the course of his whole reading, however profound it might have been, he had found anything resembling such a traffic? Where did it appear in history, that ships were regularly fitted out to fetch away tens of thousands of persons annually, against their will, from their native land; that these were subject to personal indignities and arbitrary punishments during their transportation; and that a certain proportion of them, owing to suffocation and other cruel causes, uniformly perished? He averred, that nothing like the African Slave Trade was ever practised in any nation upon earth. If the trade then was repugnant, as he maintained it was, to justice and humanity, he did not see how, without aiding and abetting injustice and inhumanity, any man could sanction it: and he thought that the noble baron (Hawkesbury) was peculiarly bound to support the resolution; for he had admitted that if it could be shown, that the trade was contrary to these principles, the question would be at an end. Now this contrariety had been made apparent, and his lordship had not even attempted to refute it. He would say but little on the subject of revealed religion, as it related to this question, because the reverend prelate, near him, had spoken so fully upon it. He might observe, however, that at the end of the sixth year, when the Hebrew slave was emancipated, he was to be furnished liberally from the flock, the floor, and the wine-press of his master. Lord Holland lamented the unfaithfulness of the noble baron (Hawkesbury) to his own principles, and the inflexible opposition of the noble earl (Westmoreland), from both which circumstances he despaired for ever of any assistance from them to this glorious cause. The latter wished to hear evidence on the subject, for the purpose, doubtless, of delay. He was sure, that the noble earl did not care what the evidence would say on either side; for his mind was made up, that the trade ought not to be abolished. The noble earl had made a difference between humanity, justice, and sound policy. God forbid, that we should ever admit such distinctions in this country! But he had gone further, and said, that a thing might be inhuman, and yet not unjust; and he put the case of the execution of a criminal in support of it. Did he not by this position confound all notions of right and wrong in human institutions? When a criminal was justly executed, was not the execution justice to him who suffered, and humanity to the body of the people at large? The noble earl had said also, that we should do no good by the abolition, because other nations would not concur in it. He did not know what other nations would do; but this he knew, that we ourselves ought not to be unjust because they should refuse to be honest. It was, however, self-obvious, that, if we admitted no more slaves into our colonies, the evil would be considerably diminished. Another of his arguments did not appear to be more solid; for surely the Slave Trade ought not to be continued, merely because the effect of the abolition might ultimately be that of the emancipation of the slaves; an event, which would be highly desirable in its due time. The noble lord had also said, that the planters were against the abolition, and that without their consent it could never be accomplished. He differed from him in both these points: for, first, he was a considerable planter himself, and yet he was a friend to the measure: secondly, by cutting off all further supplies, the planters would be obliged to pay more attention to the treatment of their slaves, and this treatment would render the trade unnecessary. The noble earl had asserted also, that the population in the West Indies could not be kept up without further importations; and this was the opinion of the planters, who were the best judges of the subject. As a planter he differed from his lordship again. If, indeed, all the waste lands were to be brought into cultivation, the present population would be insufficient. But the government had already determined, that the trade should not be continued for such a purpose. We were no longer to continue pirates, or executioners for every petty tyrant in Africa, in order that every holder of a bit of land in our islands might cultivate the whole of his allotment; a work, which might require centuries. Making this exception, he would maintain, that no further importations were necessary. Few or no slaves had been imported into Antigua for many years; and he believed, that even some had been exported from it. As to Jamaica, although in one year fifteen thousand died in consequence of hurricane and famine, the excess of deaths over the births during the twenty years preceding 1788 was only one per cent. Deducting, however, the mortality of the newly imported slaves, and making the calculation upon the Negroes born in the island or upon those who had been long there, he believed the births and the deaths would be found equal. He had a right therefore to argue that the Negroes, with better treatment (which the abolition would secure), would not only maintain but increase their population, without any aid from Africa. He would add, that the newly imported Africans brought with them not only disorders which ravaged the plantations, but danger from the probability of insurrections. He wished most heartily for the total abolition of the trade. He was convinced, that it was both inhuman, unjust, and impolitic. This had always been his opinion as an individual since he was capable of forming one. It was his opinion then as a legislator. It was his opinion as a colonial proprietor; and it was his opinion as an Englishman, wishing for the prosperity of the British empire. The Earl of Suffolk contended, that the population of the slaves in the islands could be kept up by good treatment, so as to be sufficient for their cultivation. He entered into a detail of calculations from the year 1772 downwards in support of this statement. He believed all the miseries of St. Domingo arose from the vast importation of Africans. He had such a deep sense of the inhumanity and injustice of the Slave Trade, that, if ever he wished any action of his life to be recorded, it would be that of the vote he should then give in support of the resolution. Lord Sidmouth said, that he agreed to the substance of the resolution, but yet he could not support it. Could he be convinced that the trade would be injurious to the cause of humanity and justice, the question with him would be decided; for policy could not be opposed to humanity and justice. He had been of opinion for the last twenty years, that the interests of the country and those of numerous individuals were so deeply blended with this traffic, that we should be very cautious how we proceeded. With respect to the cultivation of new lands, he would not allow a single Negro to be imported for such a purpose; but he must have a regard to the old plantations. When he found a sufficient increase in the Black population to continue the cultivation already established there, then, but not till then, he would agree to an abolition of the trade. Earl Stanhope said he would not detain their lordships long. He could not, however, help expressing his astonishment at what had fallen from the last speaker; for he had evidently confessed that the Slave Trade was inhuman and unjust, and then he had insinuated, that it was neither inhuman nor unjust to continue it. A more paradoxical or whimsical opinion, he believed, was never entertained, or more whimsically expressed in that house. The noble viscount had talked of the interests of the planters; but this was but a part of the subject; for surely the people of Africa were not to be forgotten. He did not understand the practice of complimenting the planters with the lives of men, women, and helpless children by thousands, for the sake of their pecuniary advantage; and they, who adopted it, whatever they might think of the consistency of their own conduct, offered an insult to the sacred names of humanity and justice. The noble Earl (Westmoreland) had asked what would be the practical effect of the abolition of the Slave Trade. He would inform him. It would do away the infamous practices which took place in Africa; it would put an end to the horrors of the passage; it would save many thousands of our fellow-creatures from the miseries of eternal slavery; it would oblige the planters to treat those better, who were already in that unnatural state; it would increase the population of our islands; it would give a death-blow to the diabolical calculations, whether it was cheaper to work the Negroes to death and recruit the gangs by fresh importations, or to work them moderately and to treat them kindly. He knew of no event, which would be attended with so many blessings. There was but one other matter, which he would notice. The noble baron (Hawkesbury) had asserted, that all the horrors of St. Domingo were the consequence of the speculative opinions which were current in a neighbouring kingdom on the subject at liberty. They had, he said, no such origin. They were owing to two causes; first, to the vast number of Negroes recently imported into that island; and, secondly, to a scandalous breach of faith by the French legislature. This legislature held out the idea not only of the abolition of the Slave Trade, but also of all slavery; but it broke its word. It held forth the rights of man to the whole human race, and then, in practice, it most infamously abandoned every article in these rights; so that it became the scorn of all the enlightened and virtuous part of mankind. These were the great causes of the miseries of St. Domingo, and not the speculative opinions of France. Earl Grosvenor could not but express the joy he felt at the hope, after all his disappointments, that this wicked trade would be done away. He hoped that his Majesty's ministers were in earnest, and that they would, early in the next session, take this great question up with a determination to go through with it; so that another year should not pass before we extended the justice and humanity of the country to the helpless and unhappy inhabitants of Africa. Earl Fitzwilliam said he was fearful lest the calamities of St. Domingo should be brought home to our own islands. We ought not, he thought, too hastily to adopt the resolution on that account. He should therefore support the previous question. Lord Ellenborough said, he was sorry to differ from his noble friend (Lord Sidmouth), and yet he could not help saying that if after twenty years, during which this question had been discussed by both Houses of Parliament, their lordships' judgments were not ripe for its determination, he could not look with any confidence to a time when they would be ready to decide it. The question then before them was short and plain. It was, whether the African Slave Trade was inhuman, unjust, and impolitic. If the premises were true, we could not too speedily bring it to a conclusion. The subject had been frequently brought before him in a way which had enabled him to become acquainted with it; and he was the more anxious on that account to deliver his sentiments upon it as a peer of Parliament, without reference to anything he had been called upon to do in the discharge of his professional duty. When he looked at the mode in which this traffic commenced, by the spoliation of the rights of a whole quarter of the globe; by the misery of whole nations of helpless Africans; by tearing them from their homes, their families, and their friends; when he saw the unhappy victims carried away by force; thrust into a dungeon in the hold of a ship, in which the interval of their passage from their native to a foreign land was filled up with misery, under every degree of debasement, and in chains; and when he saw them afterwards consigned to an eternal slavery, he could not but contemplate the whole system with horror. It was inhuman in its beginning, inhuman in its progress, and inhuman to the very end. Nor was it more inhuman than it was unjust. The noble earl, (Westmoreland,) in adverting to this part of the question had considered it as a question of justice between two nations, but it was a moral question. Although the natives of Africa might be taken by persons authorized by their own laws to take and dispose of them, and the practice, therefore, might be said to be legal as it respected them, yet no man could doubt, whatever ordinances they might have to sanction it, that it was radically, essentially, and in principle, unjust; and therefore there could be no excuse for us in continuing it. On the general principle of natural justice, which was paramount to all ordinances of men, it was quite impossible to defend this traffic; and he agreed with the noble baron (Hawkesbury) that, having decided that it was inhuman and unjust, we should not inquire whether it was impolitic. Indeed, the inquiry itself would be impious; for it was the common ordinance of God, that that which was inhuman and unjust, should never be for the good of man. Its impolicy, therefore, was included in its injustice and its inhumanity. And he had no doubt, when the importations were stopped, that the planters would introduce a change of system among their slaves which would increase their population, so as to render any further supplies from Africa unnecessary. It had been proved, indeed, that the Negro population in some of the islands was already in this desirable state. Many other happy effects would follow. As to the losses which would arise from the abolition of the Slave Trade, they, who were interested in the continuance of it, had greatly over-rated them. When pleading formerly in his professional capacity for the merchants of Liverpool at their lordships' bar, he had often delivered statements, which he had received from them, and which he afterwards discovered to be grossly incorrect. He could say from his own knowledge, that the assertion of the noble earl (Westmoreland), that property to the amount of a hundred millions would be endangered, was wild and fanciful. He would not however deny, that some loss might accompany the abolition; but there could be no difficulty in providing for it. Such a consideration ought not to be allowed to impede their progress in getting rid of an horrible injustice. But it had been said that we should do but little in the cause of humanity by abolishing the Slave Trade; because other nations would continue it. He did not believe they would. He knew that America was about to give it up. He believed the states of Europe would give it up. But, supposing that they were all to continue it, would not our honour be the greater? Would not our virtue be the more signal? for then --Faithful we Among the faithless found: to which he would add, that undoubtedly we should diminish the evil, as far as the number of miserable beings was concerned, which was accustomed to be transported to our own colonies. Earl Spencer agreed with the noble viscount (Sidmouth), that the amelioration of the condition of the slaves was an object, which might be effected in the West Indies; but he was certain, that the most effectual way of improving it would be by the total and immediate abolition of the Slave Trade; and for that reason he would support the resolution. Had the resolution held out emancipation to them, it would not have had his assent; for it would have ill become the character of this country, if it had been once promised, to have withheld it from them. It was to such deception that the horrors of St. Domingo were to be attributed. He would not enter into the discussion of the general subject at present. He was convinced that the trade was what the resolution stated it to be, inhuman, unjust, and impolitic. He wished therefore, most earnestly indeed, for its abolition. As to the mode of effecting it, it should be such as would be attended with the least inconvenience to all parties. At the same time he would not allow small inconveniences to stand in the way of the great claims of humanity, justice, and religion. The question was then put on the resolution, and carried by a majority of forty-one to twenty. The same address also to His Majesty, which had been agreed upon by the Commons, was directly afterwards moved. This also was carried, but without the necessity of a division. The resolution and the motion having passed both Houses, one other parliamentary measure was yet necessary to complete the proceedings of this session. It was now almost universally believed, in consequence of what had already taken place there, that the Slave Trade had received its death-wound; and that it would not long survive it. It was supposed, therefore, that the slave-merchants would, in the interim, fit out not only all the vessels they had, but even buy others, to make what might be called their last harvest. Hence, extraordinary scenes of rapine and murder would be occasioned in Africa. To prevent these, a new bill was necessary. This was accordingly introduced into the Commons. It enacted, but with one exception, that from and after the first of August, 1806, no vessel should clear out for the Slave Trade, unless it should have been previously employed by the same owner or owners in the said trade, or should be proved to have been contracted for previously to the 10th of June, 1806, for the purpose of being employed in that trade. It may now be sufficient to say that this bill also passed both Houses of Parliament; soon after which the session ended. CHAPTER XXXIII. --Continuation from July 1806, to March 1807.--Death of Mr. Fox.--Bill for the total abolition of the Slave Trade carried in the House of Lords; sent from thence to the Commons; amended and passed there; carried back, and passed with its amendments by the Lords; receives the royal assent.--Reflections on this great event. It was impossible for the committee to look back to the proceedings of the last session, as they related to the great question under their care, without feeling a profusion of joy, as well as of gratitude to those, by whose virtuous endeavours they had taken place. But, alas, how few of our earthly pleasures come to us without alloy! a melancholy event succeeded. We had the painful intelligence, in the month of October 1806, that one of the oldest and warmest friends of the cause was then numbered with the dead. Of the character of Mr. Fox, as it related to this cause, I am bound to take notice. And, first, I may observe, that he professed an attachment to it almost as soon as it was ushered into the world. Early in the year 1788, when he was waited upon by a deputation of the committee, his language was, as has appeared in the first volume, "that he would support their object to its fullest extent, being convinced that there was no remedy for the evil but in the total abolition of the trade." His subsequent conduct evinced the sincerity of his promises. He was constant in his attendance in Parliament whenever the question was brought forward; and he never failed to exert his powerful eloquence in its favour. The countenance, indeed, which he gave it, was of the greatest importance to its welfare; for most of his parliamentary friends, who followed his general political sentiments, patronized it also. By the aid of these, joined to that of the private friends of Mr. Pitt, and of other members, who espoused it without reference to party, it was always so upheld, that after the year 1791 no one of the defeats which it sustained, was disgraceful. The majority on the side of those interested in the continuance of the trade was always so trifling, that the abolitionists were preserved a formidable body, and their cause respectable. I never heard whether Mr. Fox, when he came into power, made any stipulations with His Majesty on the subject of the Slave Trade: but this I know, that he determined upon the abolition of it, if it were practicable, as the highest glory of his administration, and as the greatest earthly blessing which it was in the power of the Government to bestow; and that he took considerable pains to convince some of his colleagues in the cabinet of the propriety of the measure. When the resolution, which produced the debates in parliament, as detailed in the last chapter, was under contemplation, it was thought expedient that Mr. Fox, as the minister of state in the House of Commons, should introduce it himself. When applied to for this purpose he cheerfully undertook the office, thus acting in consistency with his public declaration in the year 1791, "that in whatever situation he might ever be, he would use his warmest efforts for the promotion of this righteous cause." Before the next measure, or the bill to prevent the sailing of any new vessel in the trade after the 1st of August, was publicly disclosed, it was suggested to him, that the session was nearly over; that he might possibly weary both Houses by another motion on the subject; and that, if he were to lose it, or to experience a diminution of his majorities in either, he might injure the cause, which was then in the road to triumph. To this objection he replied, "that he believed both Houses were disposed to get rid of the trade; that his own life was precarious; that if he omitted to serve the injured Africans on this occasion, he might have no other opportunity of doing it; and that he dared not, under these circumstances, neglect so great a duty." This prediction relative to himself became unfortunately verified; for his constitution, after this, began to decline, till at length his mortal destiny, in the eyes of his medical attendants, was sealed. But even then, when removed by pain and sickness from the discussion of political subjects, he never forgot this cause. In his own sufferings he was not unmindful of those of the injured Africans. "Two things," said he, on his death-bed, "I wish earnestly to see accomplished,--peace with Europe--and the abolition of the Slave Trade." But knowing well, that we could much better protect ourselves against our own external enemies, than this helpless people against their oppressors, he added, "but of the two I wish the latter." These sentiments he occasionally repeated, so that the subject was frequently in his thoughts in his last illness. Nay, "the very hope of the abolition (to use the expression of Lord Howick in the House of Commons) quivered on his lips in the last hour of it." Nor is it improbable, if earthly scenes ever rise to view at that awful crisis, and are perceptible, that it might have occupied his mind in the last moment of his existence. Then indeed would joy ineffable, from a conviction of having prepared the way for rescuing millions of human beings from misery, have attended the spirit on its departure from the body; and then also would this spirit, most of all purified when in the contemplation of peace, good-will, and charity upon earth, be in the fittest state, on gliding from its earthly cavern, to commix with the endless ocean of benevolence and love. At length the session of 1807 commenced. It was judged advisable by Lord Grenville, that the expected motion on this subject should, contrary to the practice hitherto adopted, be agitated first in the Lords. Accordingly, on the 2nd of January he presented a bill, called an act for the abolition of the Slave Trade; but he then proposed only to print it, and to let it lie on the table, that it might be maturely considered, before it should be discussed. On the 4th, no less than four counsel were heard against the bill. On the 5th the debate commenced. But of this I shall give no detailed account; nor, indeed, of any of those which followed it. The truth is, that the subject has been exhausted. They, who spoke in favour of the abolition, said very little that was new concerning it. They, who spoke against it, brought forward, as usual, nothing but negative assertions and fanciful conjectures. To give therefore what was said by both parties at these times, would be but useless repetition[A]. To give, on the other hand, that which was said on one side only would appear partial. Hence I shall offer to the reader little more than a narrative of facts upon these occasions. [Footnote A: The different debates in both Houses on this occasion would occupy the half of another volume. This is another circumstance, which reconciles me to the omission. But that, which reconciles me the most is, that they will be soon published. In these debates justice has been done to every individual concerned in them.] Lord Grenville opened the debate by a very luminous speech. He was supported by the Duke of Gloucester, the Bishop of Durham (Dr. Barrington), the Earls Moira, Selkirk, and Roslyn, and the Lords Holland, King, and Hood. The opponents of the bill were the Duke of Clarence, the Earls of Westmoreland and St. Vincent, and the Lords Sidmouth, Eldon, and Hawkesbury. The question being called for at four o'clock in the morning, it appeared that the personal votes and proxies in favour of Lord Grenville's motion amounted to one hundred, and those against it to thirty-six. Thus passed the first bill in England, which decreed, that the African Slave Trade should cease. And here I cannot omit paying to his Highness the Duke of Gloucester the tribute of respect, which is due to him, for having opposed the example of his royal relations on this subject in behalf of an helpless and oppressed people. The sentiments too, which he delivered on this occasion, ought not to be forgotten. "This trade," said he, "is contrary to the principles of the British constitution. It is, besides, a cruel and criminal traffic in the blood of my fellow-creatures. It is a foul stain on the national character. It is an offence to the Almighty. On every ground therefore on which a decision can be made; on the ground of policy, of liberty, of humanity, of justice, but, above all, on the ground of religion, I shall vote for its immediate extinction." On the 10th of February, the bill was carried to the House of Commons. On the 20th counsel were heard against it; after which, by agreement, the second reading of it took place. On the 23rd the question being put for the commitment of it, Lord Viscount Howick (now Earl Grey) began an eloquent speech. After he had proceeded in it some way, he begged leave to enter his protest against certain principles of relative justice, which had been laid down. "The merchants and planters," said he, "have an undoubted right, in common with other subjects of the realm, to demand justice at our hands. But that, which they denominate justice, does not correspond with the legitimate character of that virtue: for they call upon us to violate the rights of others, and to transgress our own moral duties. That, which they distinguish as justice, involves in itself the greatest injury to others. It is not, in fact, justice, which they demand, but--favour--and favour to themselves at the expense of the most grievous oppression of their fellow-creatures." He then argued the question on the ground of policy. He showed, by a number of official documents, how little this trade had contributed to the wealth of the nation, being but a fifty-fourth part of its export trade; and he contended that as four-sevenths of it had been cut off by His Majesty's proclamation, and the passing of the foreign slave bill in a former year, no detriment of any consequence would arise from the present measure. He entered into an account of the loss of seamen, and of the causes of the mortality, in this trade. He went largely into the subject of negro-population, in the islands from official documents, giving an account of it up to the latest date. He pointed out the former causes of its diminution, and stated how the remedies for these would follow. He showed how, even if the quantity of colonial produce should be diminished for a time, this disadvantage would, in a variety of instances, be more than counterbalanced by advantages, which would not only be great in themselves, but permanent. He then entered into a refutation of the various objections which had been made to the abolition, in an eloquent and perspicuous manner; and concluded by appealing to the great authorities of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox in behalf of the proposed measure. "These precious ornaments," he said, "of their age and country, had examined the subject with all the force of their capacious minds. On this question they had dismissed all animosity--all difference of opinion--and had proceeded in union; and he believed, that the best tribute of respect we could show, or the most splendid monument we could raise, to their memories, would be by the adoption of the glorious measure of the abolition of the Slave Trade." Lord Howick was supported by Mr. Roscoe, who was then one of the members for Liverpool; by Mr. Lushington, Mr. Fawkes, Lord Mahon, Lord Milton, Sir John Doyle, Sir Samuel Romilly, Mr. Wilberforce, and Earl Percy, the latter of whom wished that a clause might be put into the bill, by which all the children of slaves, born after January 1810, should be made free. General Gascoyne and Mr. Hibbert opposed the bill. Mr. Manning hoped that compensation would be made to the planters in case of loss. Mr. Bathurst and Mr. Hiley Addington preferred a plan for gradual abolition to the present mode. These having spoken, it appeared on a division, that there were for the question two hundred and eighty-three, and against it only sixteen. Of this majority I cannot but remark, that it was probably the largest that was ever announced on any occasion, where the House was called upon to divide. I must observe, also, that there was such an enthusiasm among the members at this time, that there appeared to be the same kind and degree of feeling, as manifested itself within the same walls in the year 1788, when the question was first started. This enthusiasm, too, which was of a moral nature, was so powerful, that it seemed even to extend to a conversion of the heart; for several of the old opponents of this righteous cause went away, unable to vote against it; while others of them staid in their places, and voted in its favour. On the 27th of February, Lord Howick moved, that the House resolve itself into a committee on the bill for the abolition of the Slave Trade. Sir C. Pole, Messrs. Hughan, Brown, Bathurst, Windham, and Fuller opposed the motion; and Sir R. Milbank, and Messrs. Wynne, Barham, Courtenay, Montague, Jacob, Whitbread, and Herbert (of Kerry), supported it. At length the committee was allowed to sit _pro formâ_, and Mr. Hobhouse was put into the chair. The bill then went through it, and, the House being resumed, the report was received and read. On the 6th of March, when the committee sat again, Sir C. Pole moved, that the year 1812 be substituted for the year 1807, as the time when the trade should be abolished. This amendment produced a long debate, which was carried on by Sir C. Pole, Messrs. Fuller, Hiley Addington, Rose, Gascoyne, and Bathurst, on one side; and by Mr. Ward, Sir P. Francis; General Vyse, Sir T. Turton, Mr. Whitbread, Lord Henry Petty, Messrs. Canning, Stanhope, Perceval, and Wilberforce on the other. At length, on a division, there appeared to be one hundred and twenty-five against the amendment, and for it only seventeen. The chairman then read the bill, and it was agreed that he should report it with the amendments on Monday. The bill enacted, that no vessel should clear out for slaves from any port within the British dominions after the 1st of May, 1807, and that no slave should be landed in the colonies after the 1st of March, 1808. On the 16th of March, on the motion of Lord Henry Petty, the question was put, that the bill be read a third time. Mr. Hibbert, Captain Herbert, Mr. T.W. Plomer, Mr. Windham, and Lord Castlereagh, spoke against the motion. Sir P. Francis, Mr. Lyttleton, Mr. H. Thornton, and Messrs. Barham, Sheridan, and Wilberforce supported it. After this the bill was passed without a division[A]. [Footnote A: S. Lushington, Esq., M.P. for Yarmouth, gave his voluntary attendance and assistance to the committee, during all these motions, and J. Bowdler, Esq., was elected a member of it.] On Wednesday, the 18th, Lord Howick, accompanied by Mr. Wilberforce and others, carried the bill to the Lords. Lord Grenville, on receiving it, moved that it should be printed, and that, if this process could be finished by Monday, it should be taken into consideration on that day. The reason of this extraordinary haste was, that His Majesty, displeased with the introduction of the Roman Catholic officers' bill into the Commons, had signified his intention to the members of the existing administration, that they were to be displaced. This uneasiness, which, a few days before, had sprung up among the friends of the abolition, on the report that this event was probable, began now to show itself throughout the kingdom. Letters were written from various parts, manifesting the greatest fear and anxiety on account of the state of the bill, and desiring answers of consolation. Nor was this state of the mind otherwise than what might have been expected upon such an occasion; for the bill was yet to be printed. Being an amended one, it was to be argued again in the Lords. It was then to receive the royal assent. All these operations implied time; and it was reported that the new ministry[A] was formed; among whom were several who had shown a hostile disposition to the cause. [Footnote A: The only circumstance, which afforded comfort at this time, was, that the Hon. Spencer Perceval and Mr. Canning were included in it, who were warm patrons of this great measure.] On Monday, the 23rd, the House of Lords met. Such extraordinary diligence had been used in printing the bill, that it was then ready. Lord Grenville immediately brought it forward. The Earl of Westmoreland and the Marquis of Sligo opposed it. The Duke of Norfolk and the Bishop of Llandaff (Dr. Watson) supported it. The latter said, that this great act of justice would be recorded in heaven. The amendments were severally adopted without a division. But here an omission of three words was discovered, namely, "country, territory, or place," which, if not rectified, might defeat the purposes of the bill. An amendment was immediately proposed and carried. Thus the bill received the last sanction of the Peers. Lord Grenville then congratulated the House on the completion, on its part, of the most glorious measure that had ever been adopted by any legislative body in the world. The amendment now mentioned occasioned the bill to be sent back to the Commons. On the 24th, on the motion of Lord Howick, it was immediately taken into consideration there, and agreed to; and it was carried back to the Lords, as approved of, on the same day. But though the bill had now passed both houses, there was an awful fear throughout the kingdom lest it should not receive the royal assent before the ministry was dissolved. This event took place the next day; for on Wednesday, the 25th, at half past eleven in the morning, His Majesty's message was delivered to the different members of it, that they were then to wait upon him to deliver up the seals of their offices. It then appeared that a commission for the royal assent to this bill, among others, had been obtained. This commission was instantly opened by the Lord Chancellor (Erskine), who was accompanied by the Lords Holland and Auckland; and as the clock struck twelve, just when the sun was in its meridian splendour to witness this august act, this establishment of a Magna Charta for Africa in Britain, and to sanction it by its most vivid and glorious beams, it was completed. The ceremony being over, the seals of the respective offices were delivered up; so that the execution of this commission was the last act of the administration of Lord Grenville; an administration, which, on account of its virtuous exertions in behalf of the oppressed African race, will pass to posterity, living through successive generations in the love and gratitude of the most virtuous of mankind. Thus ended one of the most glorious contests, after a continuance for twenty years, of any ever carried on in any age or country. A contest, not of brutal violence, but of reason. A contest between those who felt deeply for the happiness and the honour of their fellow-creatures, and those, who, through vicious custom and the impulse of avarice, had trampled under foot the sacred rights of their nature, and had even attempted to efface all title to the divine image from their minds. Of the immense advantages of this contest I know not how to speak; indeed, the very agitation of the question which it involved has been highly important. Never was the heart of man so expanded; never were its generous sympathies so generally and so perseveringly excited. These sympathies, thus called into existence, have been useful in the preservation of a national virtue. For anything we know, they may have contributed greatly to form a counteracting balance against the malignant spirit, generated by our almost incessant wars during this period, so as to have preserved us from barbarism. It has been useful also in the discrimination of moral character; in private life it has enabled us to distinguish the virtuous from the more vicious part of the community[A]. It has shown the general philanthropist; it has unmasked the vicious in spite of his pretension to virtue. It has afforded us the same knowledge in public life; it has separated the moral statesman from the wicked politician. It has shown us who, in the legislative and executive offices of our country, are fit to save, and who to destroy, a nation. [Footnote A: I have had occasion to know many thousand persons in the course of my travels on this subject, and I can truly say, that the part which these took on this great question was always a true criterion of their moral character. Some indeed opposed the abolition, who seemed to be so respectable, that it was difficult to account for their conduct; but it invariably turned out, in the course of time, either that they had been influenced by interested motives, or that they were not men of steady moral principle. In the year 1792, when the national enthusiasm was so great, the good were as distinguishable from the bad, according to their disposition to this great cause, as if the divine Being had marked them, or, as a friend of mine the other day observed, as we may suppose the sheep to be from the goats on the day of judgment.] It has furnished us also with important lessons. It has proved what a creature man is! how devoted he is to his own interest! to what a length of atrocity he can go, unless fortified by religious principle! But as if this part of the prospect would be too afflicting, it has proved to us, on the other hand, what a glorious instrument he may become in the hands of his Maker; and that a little virtue, when properly leavened, is made capable of counteracting the effects of a mass of vice! With respect to the end obtained by this contest, or the great measure of the abolition of the Slave Trade as it has now passed, I know not how to appreciate its importance; to our own country, indeed, it is invaluable. We have lived, in consequence of it, to see the day, when it has been recorded as a principle in our legislation, that commerce itself shall have its moral boundaries. We have lived to see the day when we are likely to be delivered from the contagion of the most barbarous opinions. They who supported this wicked traffic, virtually denied that man was a moral being; they substituted the law of force for the law of reason: but the great act now under our consideration has banished the impious doctrine, and restored the rational creature to his moral rights. Nor is it a matter of less pleasing consideration, that, at this awful crisis, when the constitutions of kingdoms are on the point of dissolution, the stain of the blood of Africa is no longer upon us, or that we have been freed (alas, if it be not too late!) from a load of guilt, which has long hung like a mill-stone about our necks, ready to sink us to perdition. In tracing the measure still further, or as it will affect other lands, we become only the more sensible of its importance; for can we pass over to Africa; can we pass over to the numerous islands, the receptacles of miserable beings from thence; and can we call to mind the scenes of misery which have been passing in each of these regions of the earth, without acknowledging that one of the greatest sources of suffering to the human race has, as far as our own power extends, been done way? Can we pass over to these regions again, and contemplate the multitude of crimes which the agency necessary for keeping up the barbarous system produced, without acknowledging that a source of the most monstrous and extensive wickedness has been removed also? But here, indeed, it becomes us peculiarly to rejoice; for though nature shrinks from pain, and compassion is engendered in us when we see it become the portion of others, yet what is physical suffering compared with moral guilt? The misery of the oppressed is, in the first place, not contagious like the crime of the oppressor; nor is the mischief which it generates either so frightful or so pernicious. The body, though under affliction, may retain its shape; and, if it even perish, what is the loss of it but of worthless dust? But when the moral springs of the mind are poisoned, we lose the most excellent part of the constitution of our nature, and the divine image is no longer perceptible in us; nor are the two evils of similar duration. By a decree of Providence, for which we cannot be too thankful, we are made mortal. Hence the torments of the oppressor are but temporary; whereas the immortal part of us, when once corrupted, may carry its pollutions with it into another world. But, independently of the quantity of physical suffering, and the innumerable avenues to vice, in more than a quarter of the globe, which this great measure will cut off, there are yet blessings, which we have reason to consider as likely to flow from it. Among these we cannot overlook the great probability that Africa, now freed from the vicious and barbarous effects of this traffic, may be in a better state to comprehend and receive the sublime truths of the Christian religion. Nor can we overlook the probability that, a new system of treatment necessarily springing up in our islands, the same bright sun of consolation may visit her children there. But here a new hope rises to our view. Who knows but that emancipation, like a beautiful plant, may, in its due season, rise out of the ashes of the abolition of the Slave Trade, and that, when its own intrinsic value shall be known, the seed of it may be planted in other lands? And looking at the subject in this point of view, we cannot but be struck with the wonderful concurrence of events as previously necessary for this purpose, namely, that two nations, England and America, the mother and the child, should, in the same month of the same year, have abolished this impious traffic; nations, which at this moment have more than a million of subjects within their jurisdiction to partake of the blessing; and one of which, on account of her local situation and increasing power, is likely in time to give, if not law, at least a tone to the manners and customs of the great continent on which she is situated. Reader! Thou art now acquainted with the history of this contest! Rejoice in the manner of its termination! And, if thou feelest grateful for the event, retire within thy closet, and pour out thy thanksgivings to the Almighty for this his unspeakable act of mercy to thy oppressed fellow-creatures. THE END. * * * * * LONDON: JOHN W. PARKER, ST. MARTIN'S LANE A SELECT LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND, LONDON. * * * * * THE SLAVE-TRADE and SLAVERY.--HISTORY of the RISE, PROGRESS, and ACCOMPLISHMENT, of the ABOLITION of the AFRICAN SLAVE-TRADE by the British Parliament. By THOMAS CLARKSON, M.A. A NEW EDITION, with Prefatory Remarks on the subsequent ABOLITION of SLAVERY, and a Portrait from a highly-approved Picture, recently painted by HENRY ROOM. _Published under the Direction of the_ CENTRAL NEGRO-EMANCIPATION COMMITTEE. One large Volume. Octavo. THE SCRIPTURAL CHARACTER of the ENGLISH CHURCH CONSIDERED, in a SERIES of SERMONS, with Notes and Illustrations. By the Rev. DERWENT COLERIDGE, M.A. The series of Sermons, bearing the above title, were written exclusively for perusal, and are arranged as a connected whole. The author has adopted this form to avail himself of the devotional frame of mind, presupposed on the part of the reader, in this species of composition; but he has not deemed it as necessary to preserve with strictness the conventional style of the pulpit, for which these discourses were never intended: they may, consequently, be taken as a series of Essays, or as the successive chapters of a general work. THE CATHOLIC CHARACTER of CHRISTIANITY; in a SERIES of LETTERS to a FRIEND. By the Rev. FREDERICK NOLAN, LL.D., F.B.S., Vicar of Prittlewell, and Author of _The Evangelical Character of Christianity_, &c. The Profits arising from the First Edition of this Work, will be given to the Fund for erecting a Memorial to the Martyred Bishops at Oxford. A MANUAL of CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES; or an Account of the Constitution, Ministers, Worship, Discipline, and Customs of the Early Church; with an Introduction, containing a Complete and Chronological Analysis of the Works of the Antenicene Fathers. Compiled from the Works of Augusti, and other sources. By the Rev. J. E. RIDDLE, M.A., Author of an _English-Latin_ and _Latin-English Dictionary_, _Luther and his Times_, &c. _In the Press_. It has been the object of the writer, to construct a History of Christian Antiquities sufficiently copious and accurate for the use of the student in divinity, and at the same time instructive and acceptable to the general reader: a work popular in point of structure and style, but containing the substance of the more scholastic and expensive volumes of Bingham, and embodying information collected by modern divines, who have investigated the history and usages of the early church. Such a compendium was a desideratum in our theological literature. Our language has hitherto possessed no book fit to occupy the same place, in relation to the history of the church, as that which has long been maintained by the Antiquities of Potter and Adam, in connexion with the histories of Greece and Rome. And the author of the present volume hopes he may be permitted to say, that, in the absence of more able labourers in this department, he has endeavoured, by means especially of foreign aid, to remove the want which he has described. THE WORKS OF DOCTOR DONNE, Dean of Saint Paul's in 1619-1631; with a Memoir of his Life, and Critical Notices of his Writings. By HENRY ALFORD, M.A., Vicar of Wymeswold, and late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. With a fine Portrait from an Original Picture by VANDYKE. Six Volumes Octavo. A HISTORY of the INDUCTIVE SCIENCES, from the Earliest Times to the Present. By the Rev. WILLIAM WHEWELL, B.D., F.R.S.; Pres. Geol. Society, and Professor of Casuistry in the University of Cambridge. Three Volumes, Octavo. 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The Introduction is embodied in the first volume, and extends from the earliest period of authentic history up to the termination of the reign of William III.; and the Saxon institutions, tenure of lands, domesday, the royal prerogative, origin and progress of the legislative assemblies, privileges of Lords and Commons, pecuniary exactions, administration of justice, gradual improvements in the laws, judicial powers of the Peers, borough institutions, infamy of the Long Parliament, national dissensions, and the principles under which the executive power was intrusted to the Prince of Orange, have experienced every illustration. The doctrinal changes in the Anglican Church which were effected under the Tudors, are justified by a reference to the records and practice of the primitive Church, and the doctrinal schismatic points of Roman Catholic faith relating to the canons of Scripture, seven sacraments, sacrifice of the mass, private and solitary mass, communion in one kind, transubstantiation, image worship, purgatory, indulgences, confession and penance, absolution, &c., are clearly established as being in direct opposition to the opinions of the early fathers, and the fundamental doctrines of Christianity. The text of De Lolme is incorporated in the second volume, and the notes affixed extend to great length, and embody very valuable and diversified information relative to the rights, qualifications, and disqualifications of members of Parliament and their constituents; the unions of Scotland and Ireland with England; the origin, rise, and progress of the civil law under nine periods of the Roman history; civil process in the English courts of law; history of the courts of equity, and the principles under which they act; trial by jury, and an analysis of criminal offences, and the statutes under which they are punishable, with an analysis of crimes that were committed in 1837, and of the sentences passed. There are likewise tables of the public income and expenditure in the year ended January 5, 1837; of the church revenues, in which will be found information relative to the number of benefices in each diocese; total amount of incomes, gross and net, of the incumbents in each diocese, also the averages of each respectively; number of curates in each diocese; total amount of their stipends, and average thereof; also four scales of the incomes of the beneficed clergy; and genealogical tables from the Saxon and Danish kings, to Queen Victoria. FROM THE PRESS OF JOHN W. PARKER. MEMOIRS of the LIFE, CHARACTER, and WRITINGS, of BISHOP BUTLER, Author of _The Analogy_. By THOMAS BARTLETT, M.A., One of the Six Preachers of Canterbury Cathedral, and Rector of Kingstone, Kent. Dedicated, by Permission, to his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury. Octavo, with an original Portrait. * * * * * ELIZABETHAN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 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4675	----	THE SEA-WITCH: OR, THE AFRICAN QUADROON A STORY OF THE SLAVE COAST. BY LIEUTENANT MURRAY. NEW YORK: CONTENTS I. OUTWARD BOUND. II. CAPTAIN WILL RATLIN. III. THE GALE. IV. BRAMBLE PARK. V. THE NAVAL OFFICER. VI. THE WRECK. VII. THE SEA WITCH. VIII. THE QUADROON. IX. THE ATTACK. X. THE DUEL. XI. THE HUES OF LOVE. XII. THE CONFLICT. XIII. THE TRIAL. XIV. THE BROTHERS. XV. THE ESCAPE. XVI. THE CANNIBALS. XVII. THE POISONED BARB. XVIII. THE DENOUEMENT. LA TARANTULA. BY GIDDINGS H. BALLOU. THE GOLDSMITH OF PARIS. BY H. W. LORING. MISS HENDERSON'S THANKSGIVING DAY. BY HORATIO ALGER, JR. THE FIREMAN. BY MISS M. C. MONTAIGNE. PREFACE. LET the reader peruse the following story with the same spirit in which it was written, and not conceive that it is either a pro-slavery or anti-slavery tale. The "peculiar institution" which is herein introduced, is brought forward simply as an auxiliary, and not as a feature of the story. It is only referred to where the plot and locality upon the slave coast have rendered this necessary, and the careful reader will observe that the subject is treated with entire impartiality. These few remarks are introduced, because we desire to appear consistent. Our paper shall neither directly nor indirectly further any sectional policy or doctrine, and in its conduct shall be neutral, free and independent.--Editor of The Flag of our Union. THE SEA-WITCH. CHAPTER I. OUTWARD BOUND. OUR story opens in that broad, far-reaching expanse of water which lies deep and blue between the two hemispheres, some fifteen degrees north of the equator, in the latitude of Cuba and the Cape Verd Islands. The delightful trade winds had not fanned the sea on a finer summer's day for a twelvemonth, and the waves were daintily swelling upon the heaving bosom of the deep, as though indicating the respiration of the ocean. It was scarcely a day's sail beyond the flow of the Caribbean Sea, that one of those noblest results of man's handiwork, a fine ship, might have been seen gracefully ploughing her course through the sky-blue waters of the Atlantic. She was close-hauled on the larboard tack, steering east-southeast, and to a sailor's eye presented a certain indescribable something that gave her taut rig and saucy air a dash of mystery, which would have set him to speculating at once as to her character and the trade she followed. Few things can be named that more potently challenge our admiration than a full-sized ship under way; her myriad of ropes, sails and appointments, all so complete and well-controlled, the power of her volition, the promptness with which she obeys the slightest movement of the helm, the majestic grace of her inclination to the power of the winds, and the foaming prow and long glistening wake, all go to make up the charm and peculiarity of a nautical picture. There is true poetry in such a scene as this, beauty fit to move the heart of an anchorite. No wonder the sailor loves his ship like a mistress; no wonder he discourses of her charms with the eloquence of true love and confiding trust; no landsman can be more enamored of his promised bride. But the craft to which we especially refer at the present writing, was a coquette of the first class, beautiful in the extreme, and richly meriting the name that her owners had placed in golden letters on her stern--the "Sea Witch." She was one of that class of vessels known as flat upon the floor, a model that caused her to draw but little water, and enabled her to run free over a sandbar or into an inlet, where an ordinary ship's long boat would have grounded. She was very long and sharp, with graceful concave lines, and might have measured some five hundred tons. Speed had evidently been the main object aimed at in her construction, the flatness of her floor giving her great buoyancy, and her length ensuring fleetness. These were points that would at once have struck a sailor's eye, as he beheld the ship bowling gracefully on her course by the power of the trade winds that so constantly befriend the mariners in these latitudes. We have said that the "Sea Witch" was of peculiar model, and so indeed she was. Contrary to the usual rig of what are called clipper ships, her masts, instead of raking, were perfectly upright, for the purpose of enabling her to carry more press of sail when need be, and to hold on longer when speed should be of vital importance--that the straighter construction of the masts furthers this object, is a fact long since proven in naval architecture. She was very low, too, in her rigging, having tremendous square yards; enabling the canvass to act more immediately upon the hull, instead of operating as a lever aloft, and keeping the ship constantly off an even keel. Though low in the waist, yet her ends rose gracefully in a curve towards the terminations fore and aft, making her very dry on either the quarter-deck or forecastle. She might have numbered fifty men for her crew, and if you had looked in board over her bulwarks you would have seen that her complement was made up of men. There were none there but real able-bodied seamen--sea dogs, who had roughed it in all weather, and on all sorts of allowance. There was a quiet and orderly mien about the deck and among the watch, that spoke of the silent yet potent arm of authority. The men spoke to each other now and then, but it was in an under tone, and there was no open levity. A few men were lounging about the heel of the bowsprit on the forecastle, one or two were busy in the waist coiling cable; an officer of second or third caste a quiet, but decided character, to judge from his features, stood with folded arms just abaft the mizzen-mast, and a youthful figure, almost too young seemingly for so responsible a post, leaned idly against the monkey-rail, near the sage old tar who was at the helm. At first you might have supposed him a supercargo, an owner's son as passenger, or something of that sort, from the quite-at-home air he exhibited; but now and then he cast one of those searching and understanding glances aloft and fore and aft, taking in the whole range of the ship's trim, and the way she did her duty, that you realized at once the fact of his position; and you could not mistake the fact that he was her commander. He wore a glazed tarpaulin hat of coarse texture, and his dress was of little better material than that of the crew he commanded, but it set it somehow quite jauntily upon his fine, well-developed form, and there was an unmistakable air of conscious authority about him that showed him to be no stranger to control, or the position which he filled. The hair, escaping in glossy curls from beneath his hat, added to a set of very regular features a fine effect, while a clear, full blue eye, and an open, ingenuous expression of countenance, told of manliness of heart and chivalric hardihood of character. Exposure to the elements had bronzed his skin, but there were no wrinkles there, and Captain Will Ratlin could not have seen more than two and twenty years, though most of them had doubtless been passed upon the ocean, for his well-knit form showed him to be one thoroughly inured to service. "She does her work daintily, Captain Ratlin," said he who was evidently an officer, and who had been standing by the mainmast, but now walked aft. "Yes, Mr. Faulkner, 'daintily' is the word. I wish our beauty could be a little more spunky, time is money in our business, sir," was the prompt reply. "But the willing craft does all she can, sir." "I don't know, Mr. Faulkner, we can make her do almost anything." "But talk," added the mate. "Ay, she will do that in her own way, and eloquently, too," continued his superior. "In coming out of Matanzas, when you made her back and fill like a saddle horse, I thought she was little less than a human being," said the mate, honestly. "She minds her helm like a beauty, and feels the slightest pull upon her sheets." "I never saw a vessel lie closer to the wind," said the mate; "she eats right into it, and yet has not shaken a foot of canvass this half hour." "That is well." "It's uncommon, sir," continued the other. "She must and can do better, though," said the young commander, with an air of slight impatience. "Call the watch below, Mr. Faulkner, we will treat our mistress to a new dress this bright day, and flatter her pride a little; she is of the coquette school, and will bear a little dalliance." "Ay, ay, sir," responded the officer, without further parley, walking forward to the fore hatch, and with a few quick blows with a handspike, and a clear call, he summoned that portion of the crew whose hours of release from duty permitted them below. The signal rang sharply through the ship, and caused an instant response. A score of dark forms issued forth from the forecastle, embracing representatives from nearly half the nations of the globe; but they were sturdy sailors, and used to obey the word of command, men to be relied upon in an emergency, rough in exterior, but within either soft as women or hard as steel, according to the occasion. Now it was that an observer not conversant with the "Sea Witch," and looking at her from a distance, would have naturally concluded that she was most appropriately named, for how else could her singular manouvres and the result that followed be explained? Suddenly the mizzen royal disappeared, followed by the top-gallant sail, topsail, and cross-jack courses, seeming to melt away under the eye like a misty veil, while, almost in a moment of time, there appeared a spanker, gaff topsail and gaff top-gallantsail in their place, while the vessel still held on her course. A moment later, and the royal top-gallantsail, topsail and mainsail disappear from the main mast, upon which appears a regular fore and aft suit of canvass, consisting of mainsail, gaff topsail, and gaff top-gallantsail, reducing the vessel to a square rig forward, and a plain fore and aft rig aft. A few minutes more, and the foremast passed through the same metamorphose, leaving the "Sea Witch" a three-masted schooner, with fore and aft sails on every mast and every stay. All this had been accomplished with a celerity that showed the crew to be no strangers to the manouvres through which they had just passed, each man requiring to work with marked intelligence. Fifty well drilled men, thorough sea dogs, can turn a five hundred ton ship "inside out," if the controlling mind understands his position on the quarter-deck. "She wears that dress as though it suited her taste exactly, Mr. Faulkner," said the captain, running his eye over the vessel, and glancing over the side to mark her headway. "Any rig becomes the 'Sea Witch,'" answered the officer, with evident pride. "That is true," returned the captain. "Luff, sir, luff a bit, so, well," he continued to the man at the helm; "we will have all of her weatherly points that site will give." "The wind is rather more unsteady than it was an hour past," said Mr. Faulkner. "Rather puffy, and twice I thought it would haul right about, but here we have it still from the north'rd and east'rd," replied the captain. "Here it is again," added the mate, as the wind hauled once more. The immediate object of the change in the vessel's rig, which we have described, was at once apparent, enabling the vessel to lie nearer the wind in her course, as well its giving her increased velocity by bringing more canvass to draw than a square rig could do when close hauled. But a shrewd observer would have been led to ask, what other reason, save that of disguise, could have been the actuating motive in thus giving to the "Sea Witch" a double character in her rig? For though temporary and somewhat important advantage could at times be thus gained, as we have seen, yet such an object alone would not have warranted the increased outlay that was necessarily incurred, to say nothing of the imperative necessity of a vessel's being very strongly manned in order to enable her to thus change her entire aspect with any ordinary degree of celerity, and as had just been accomplished. CHAPTER II. CAPTAIN WILL RATLIN. THE watch below, after completing the work which had summoned them for the time being on deck, tumbled helter-skelter down the fore hatch once more, and left on the deck of the "Sea Witch" about a dozen able seamen who formed the watch upon deck. A number of these were now gathered in a knot on the forecastle, and while they were sitting cross-legged, picking old rope, and preparing it in suitable form for caulking the ship's seams, one of their number was spinning a yarn, the hero of which was evidently him who now filled the post of commander on board their vessel. The object of their remarks, meanwhile, stood once more quietly leaning over the monkey-rail on the weather side of the quarter-deck, quite unconscious that he was supplying a theme of entertainment to the forecastle. There was an absent expression in his handsome face, a look as though his heart was far distant from the scene about him, and yet a habit of watchful caution seemed ever and anon to recall his senses, and his quick, keen glance would run over the craft from stem to stern with a searching and comprehensive power that showed him master of his profession, and worthy his trust. Trust?--what was the trust he held? Surely, no legitimate commerce could warrant the outfit of such a vessel as he controlled. A man-of-war could hardly have been more fully equipped with means of offence and defence. Amidship, beneath that long boat, was a long, heavy metalled gun that worked on a traverse, and which could command nearly every point of the compass, while the ship kept her course. Just inside the rise of the low quarter-deck--the cabin being entered from the deck by the descent of a couple of steps--there were ranged boarding pikes, muskets, cutlasses and pistols, ready for instant use. In shape they formed stars, hearts and diamonds, dangerous but fantastic ornaments. The brightness of these arms, and the handy way in which they were arranged in the sockets made to receive them, showed at once that they were designed for use, while the various other fixtures of the cabin and docks plainly bespoke preparation for conflict. A strong and lofty boarding-netting being stowed, also, told of the readiness of the "Sea Witch" to repel boarders. That all these preparations had been made merely as ordinary precautions in a peaceful trade was by no means probable; and yet there they were, and there stood the bright-eyed, handsome and youthful commander upon the quarter-deck, but he did not look the desperado--such a term would have poorly accorded with his open and manly countenance, hie quiet and gentlemanly mien. A pirate would hardly have dared to lay the course he steered in these latitudes, where an English or French cruiser was very likely to cross his track. "He handles a ship as prettily as ever a true blue did yet," said one of the forecastle group, in replying to some remark of a comrade concerning the commander. "That's true," answered another; "he seems to have a sort of natural way with him, as though he'd been born aboard and never seed the land at all; and as to that matter, there may be them on board who say as much of him." "That isn't far from the truth," answered Bill Marline, "seein' he started so arly on the sea he can't tell when he wasn't there himself." "How was that matter, Bill?" asked one of his messmates. "They say you have kept the captain's reckoning, man and boy, these fifteen years." "That have I, and never a truer heart floated than the man you see yonder leaning over the rail on the quarterdeck, where he belongs," answered Bill Marline. "How did you first fall in with him, Bill?--Tell us that," said one of the crew. "Well, do ye see, messmates, it must have been the matter of thirteen years ago, there or thereabouts, but I can't exactly say, seeing's I never have kept a log and can't write; but must have been about that length of time, when I was a foremast hand on board the 'Sea Lion,' as fine an Indiaman as you would wish to see. We were lying in the Liverpool docks, with sails bent and cargo stowed, under sailing orders, when one afternoon there strolled alongside a boy rather ragged and dirty, but with such eyes and such a countenance as would make him a passport anywhere. Well, do ye see, we were lazing away time on board, and waiting the captain's coming before we hauled out into the stream, and so we coaxed the lad aboard. He either didn't know where he came from or wouldn't tell, and when we proposed to take him to sea with us, he readily agreed, and sure enough he sailed in the 'Sea Lion.'" "Well, heave ahead, Bill," said one of the group, as the narrator stopped to stove a fresh instalment of the Virginia weed in his larboard cheek. "Heave ahead." "We hadn't got fairly clear of the channel," continued Bill Marline, "before the boy had become a general favorite all over the ship. We washed him up and bent on a new suit of toggery on him, with a reg'lar tarpaulin, and there was almost a fight whether the forecastle or the cabin should have him. At last it was left to the boy himself, and he chose to remain with us in the forecastle. The boy wasn't sick an hour on the passage until after we left the Cape of Good Hope, when the flag halliards getting fouled, he was sent up to the peak to loosen it, and by some lurch of the ship was throw upon deck. Why it didn't kill him was the wonder of all, but the boy was crazy for near a month from the blow on his head, which he got in falling, but he gradually got cured under our captain's care. "Well, do ye see, our captain was a regular whole-souled fellow, though he did sometimes work up a hand's old iron pretty close for him, and so he took the boy into the cabin and gave him a berth alongside his own, and as he grew better took to teaching him the use of his instruments, and mathematics, and the like. The boy they said was wonderful ready, and learned like a book, and could take the sun and work up the ship's course as well as the captain; but what was the funniest of all was that, after he got well, he didn't know one of us, he had forgotten or even how he came on board the ship, the injury had put such a stopper on his brain that he had forgotten all that ever occurred before it. To my mind, howdsomever, it wasn't much to forget, seeing he was little better than a baby, and hadn't been to sea at all, and you know there aint anything worth knowing on shore, more'n one can overhaul in a day's leave, more or less, within hail of the sea." "That's true," growled one or two of his messmates. "Our ship was a first class freighter and passage vessel, and on the home voyage we had plenty of ladies. 'Twas surprisin' to see how natural like the boy took to 'em, and how they all liked him. He was constantly learning something, and soon got so he could parley vou like a real frog-eating Frenchman. And then, as I said before, he took the sun and worked up the the ship's reckoning like a commodore. Well, do ye se, messmates, we made a second and third voyage together in that ship, and when master Will Ratlin--for that was a name we give him when he first came on board, and he's kept it ever since--was a matter of fourteen years, he was nearly as big as he is now, and acted as mate, and through I say it, who ought to know somewhat about those things, I never seed a better seaman of twice his years, always savin' present company, messmates." "In course, Bill," growled three or four of his messmates, heartily. "Well, do ye see, messmates, we continued together in the same ship for the matter of five years, and then master Will and I shipped in another Indiaman, and we were in the 'Birmingham' for three years or more. One day we lay off the Cape on the home passage, and a half dozen of us got shore leave for a few hours, and I among the rest, and somehow I got rather more grog aboard than I could stow, and when I came off, the captain swore at me like a pirate, and after I got sober triced me up to the main rigging for a round dozen. When all hands were called to witness punishment, shiver my timbers, if master Will Ratlin, who was the first mate, didn't walk boldly up to the captain, and say, blunt and honest: "'Captain Brace, Marline is an old and favorite seaman, and if you will let this offence pass without further punishment, I will answer for his future good behaviour, at all times. I ask it, sir, as a personal favor.' "'But discipline, discipline must be observed, Mr. Ratlin.' "'I acknowledge he's in fault, sir,' said our mate. "'And deserves the punishment,' said the captain. "'I fear he does, sir; but yet I can't bear to see a good seaman flogged, said the mate, apologetically. "'Nor I either,' said the captain; 'but Bill Marline deserves the cat, though as you make it a personal matter, why I'll let him off this time, Mr. Ratlin.' "The captain didn't wish to let me go, but he said he wished to gratify his mate, and so I was cast loose, and after a broadside of advice, and a hurricane of oaths, was turned over to duty again. I didn't forget that favor, messmates, and sink me if I wouldn't go to the bottom to serve him any time. He commanded a brig in the South American trade after that, and would have made a mate of me, but somehow I've got a weakness for grog that isn't very safe, and so he knows 'twont do. You see him there now, messmates, as calm as a lady; but he's awake when there's need of it. The man don't live that can handle a ship better than he; and as for fighting, do ye see, messmates, we were running on this here same tack, just off the--but avast upon that, I haven't any more to say, messmates," said the speaker, demurely. Bill Marline evidently found himself treading upon dangerous ground, and wisely cut short his yarn, thereby creating a vast amount of curiosity among his messmates, but he sternly refused to speak further upon the subject. Either his commander had prohibited him, or he found that by speaking he should in some way compromise the credit or honor of one upon whom he evidently looked as being little less than one of a superior order of beings to himself. "But what do you bring up so sudden for? Pay out, old fellow, there's plenty of sea-room, and no land-sharks to fear," said one of the group, encouragingly. "Never you mind, messmates, there's nothing like keeping a civil tongue in your head, especially being quiet about other people's business," added Bill. "What think you, Bill, of this present vocation, eh?" asked another companion. "I shipped for six months, that's all I know, and no questions asked. I understand very well that Captain Ratlin wouldn't ship me where he wouldn't go himself." "Well, do you see, Bill, most of us are new on board here, though we have knocked about long enough to get the number of our mess and to work ship together, and don't perhaps feel so well satisfied as you do." "Why, look ye, messmates, arnt you satisfied so long as the articles you signed are kept by captain and crew?" asked Bill Marline, somewhat tartly. "Why, yes, as to that matter; but where are we bound, Bill?" asked the other. "Any boy in the ship can make out the 'Sea Witch's' course," said the old tar, evasively. "We're in these here Northern Trades, close-hauled, and heading, according to my reckoning, due east, and any man who has stood his trick at the wheel of a ship, knows that such a course steered from the West Indies will, if well followed, run down the Cape Verds; that's all I know." "Port Praya and a port; that was in the articles sure enough," answered he who had questioned Bill Marline; "but the 'Sea Witch' will scarce anchor there before she is off again, according to my reckoning." That the old tar knew more than he chose to divulge, however, was apparent to his comrades, but they knew him to be fixed when he chose, and so did not endeavor by importunity to gather anything further from him; so the conversation gradually changed into some other channel. In the meantime, while the crew gathered about Bill Marline were thus speculating, the vessel bowled along gracefully, with a speed that was in itself exhilarating to her young commander, who still gazed idly at the passing current. Once or twice a slight frown clouded his features, and his lips moved as though he was striving within himself either against real or imaginary evil, and then the same calm, placid manliness of countenance radiated his handsome features, and his lips were composed. Now he turned to issue some necessary order, which was uttered in that calm, manly distinctness that challenges obedience, and then he resumed his idle gaze over the vessel's side, once more losing himself in his day dream. CHAPTER III. THE GALE. "THE Wind seems to be hauling," said the mate, walking aft, and addressing his superior. "Keep her a good full," said the captain, to the man at the helm. "Ay, ay, sir," said the old tar, as he tried to make the sails draw by altering the vessel's course a point or two more free. "Here it is, sure enough," said the captain, "from the southwest. Up with the men forward once more, Mr. Faulkner!--we must humor our beauty." "All hands oil deck!" shouted the mate at the hatch--an order which as before was perfectly obeyed. Almost as quickly as the foremast had been stripped of the square rig it had at first borne, it was once more clothed again with its topsail and mainsail, and in less than fifteen minutes the "Sea Witch" was under a cloud of canvass, with studd'nsails out on both sides, while the fore and aft sails on the main and mizzen were boomed out wing and wing dead before the wind. The staysails and jibs were hauled down now as useless, and the vessel flew like a courser. The change of wind had brought the sea up, and the vessel had a gradual roll, causing the waves now and then to come gracefully in over the waist, while the extreme fore and aft parts of the handsome craft were perfectly dry. "It has set her to waltzing, Mr. Faulkner," said his superior; "but she improves her speed upon to it, and I think the breeze freshens from this new quarter." "Yes, sir. Do you see the long bank of white hereaway to the south-southwest; it looks like a fog bank, but may be a squall," said the mate. "There are few squalls in these latitudes, Mr. Faulkner, and yet I don't like the looks of the weather in the southern board," said the captain, as he gazed to windward, with a quick, searching glance. While he spoke, the wind came fresher and fresher, and now and then a damp puff and lull, that were too significant tokens for a seaman to disregard. Captain Ratlin jumped upon the inner braces of the taffrail, and shading his eyes with his hands for a moment, looked steadily to windward, then glanced at his well-filled sails as though he was loth to lose even a minute of such a fair wind. He delayed, however, but a second, when jumping down to the deck again, he issued his orders in those brief but significant tones of voice, which at the same time imparts promptness and confidence in a waiting crew on shipboard. "In studd'nsails, gaff-topsails, fore royal and top-gallantsails, with a will, men, cheerily, cheerily O!" These were tones that the crew of the "Sea Witch" were no strangers to, and sounds they loved, for they betokened a thorough and complete feeling of confidence between commander and men, and they worked with spirit. "Lay aft here, and brail the spanker up!" continued the captain, promptly. "Ay, ay, sir!" was the response of a half dozen ready hands, as they sprang to do his bidding. The vessel was thus, by the consummation of these orders, quickly reduced to her mainsail, foresail, and foretopsail, while she flew before the on-coming gale at the rate of seventeen or eighteen knots an hour, being actually much faster than the sea. It was now evident to every one on board that a severe gale of wind was gathering, and its force was momentarily more powerfully exercised upon the vessel. "She staggers under it, Mr. Faulkner," said his superior, with a calmness that evinced perfect self-reliance and coolness, while he regarded the increasing gale. "Ay, sir, you can drive her at almost any speed," answered the mate. "She's like a mettled courser, sir, and loves the fleet track." "Scud while you can, Mr. Faulkner, it's a true nautical rule. Some men will always heave a ship to if there is a cap fill of--" "Double-reef the mainsail!" shouted the captain, interrupting himself, to give an order that he saw was imperative. "--Wind, but I believe in scudding, if you can," he added. "Double-reef foretopsail! and look ye, Mr. Faulkner, have presenter sheets bent on the foresail, this wind is in earnest," said his superior, more seriously, as he jumped into the mizzen shrouds and scanned the sea to windward again. The gale still increased, and everything being now made snug on board the "Sea Witch," she was run before it with almost incredible speed. It would have been a study to have regarded the calm self-possession and complete coolness of the young commander during this startling gale; he never once left his post, every inch of the vessel seemed under his eye, and not the least trifle of duty was for a moment forgotten. If possible, he was more particular than usual that his orders in the smallest item were strictly observed, and thus with his iron will and strong intelligence he mastered every contingency of the hour, imparting that indispensable confidence among his people so requisite to perfect control. There was a firmness now expressed in the compressed lips, and a sternness in the eye, that had not before been manifested, while there was a breathing of authority in his smallest order. In an instant more the scene was changed! With terrific violence the vessel flew up in the wind with the rapidity of thought, and a report like that of a score of cannons fired at the same moment, was heard above the roar of the winds. "What lubberly trick is this?" shouted the captain, fiercely, to the old tar who held his station at the wheel, and on whose faithfulness everything depended. "The wheel rope has parted on the larboard side, your honor," was the reply. "That is no man's fault," said his commander. "Bear a hand here, Mr. Faulkner, and bend on a fresh wheel rope. Be lively; sir, be lively!" The sails had been blown from the bolt-ropes, in an instant of time, and the vessel now lay wallowing in the sea. Now once more was seen the power of discipline and the coolness of the young commander, whose word was law in that floating community. Fifty voices were raised in shouts above the storm, suggesting this expedient and that, but that agile figure, which we have already described, sprang lightly into the mizzen shrouds, and with a voice that was heard by every soul on board the "Sea Witch," shouted sternly: "Silence in the ship!" Not a voice was heard, and every man quietly awaited his order, looking abashed that there had been a tongue heard save his who had the right alone to speak. "Cast the gasket off the foot of the fore and aft foresail." "Ay, ay, sir!" responded the mate, who having secured the rudder, now hastened by his commander, followed by a dozen hands, to execute the order. "Haul the sheet to port!" "Ay, ay, sir!" "Belay that!" As the vessel felt the power of the canvass thus opportunely loosed and brought to bear, she gradually paid off before the wind, and once more had steerage way. Another foresail was now bent, and this time double-reefed, the foretopsail, too, was bent, close-reefed and furled, while the fore and aft foresail was once more stowed, leaving the "Sea Witch" to scud under double-reefed foresail. Five days of steady blow continued before the vessel could again show more than a small portion of her canvass. Then the wind once more hauled to the northwest, and the "Sea Witch" donned heir fore and aft rig on all her masts steering close-hauled again due cast, until the lofty headlands of the Cape de Verds hove gradually in sight, and the fleet clipper craft made her anchorage in the harbor of Port Praya. The "Sea Witch," whatever her business in this harbor, seemed able to transact it without venturing inside the forts, or taking stronger moorings than a single anchor could afford her. At this she rode with mysterious quiet. Not a soul of the full complement of men on board were visible from the shore; now and then perhaps the head of some taller hand than his fellows might loom up above the bulwarks at the waist, or a solitary seaman creep quietly aloft to reave a sheet through some block, or secure some portion of the rigging. The captain scarcely waited for his land-tackle to hold the vessel before a quarter-boat was lowered away, and with a half-dozen sturdy fellows as its crew pulled boldly towards the main landing, where he stepped ashore and disappeared. A suspicious eye would have marked the manner in which the sails upon the "Sea Witch" had been secured, and the way in which she was moored. If need be, three minutes would have covered her with canvass, and slipping her cable she could in that space of time, had the order been issued from her quarter deck, have been under way and looking once more seaward. Whatever her business, it was very clear that promptness, secrecy, and large precaution were elements of its success. Nor had these characteristics, which we have named, escaped entire observation of the people on shore, for at the nearest point of land a group of idlers were visible, who stood gazing at and discussing the character of the vessel, while at the same moment her young commander was seen with his boat's crew pulling back from the landing to his craft. His business was brief enough, for even now the anchor is once more away. The gallant ship spreads her broad wings one by one, and gracefully bending to the power of the breeze, glides, like a fleet courser, over the fathomless depths of the sea, while the mind that controls her motions again assumes his reverie on the quarter-deck. CHAPTER IV. BRAMBLE PARK. CHANGING the field of our story from the blue waves to that of land, we must ask the reader to go back with us for a period of years from that wherein our story has opened, to the fertile country and highly-cultivated lands in the neighborhood of Manchester, England. Sir Robert Bramble's estate was some eight miles from the large manufacturing town just named, and embraced within its grounds some of the most delightfully situated spots within a day's ride in any direction. Parks, gardens, ponds, groves, stables and fine animals; in short, every accompaniment to a fine English estate. Sir Robert was a man of not much force of character, had inherited his estates, and had partly exhausted his income so far as to render a degree of economy imperatively necessary, a fact which was not calculated to render any more amiable a naturally irritable disposition. The family at Bramble Park, as the estate was called, consisted of Sir Robert and his lady, a weak-minded, but once beautiful woman, and two sons, Robert and Charles, the eldest at this period some twelve years of age, the youngest about nine; the usual number of servants, in doors and out; made up the household. Sir Robert's could hardly be said to be a very happy household, notwithstanding there seemed to be every element and requisite to be found there for peaceful domestic happiness; and perhaps it would have puzzled a casual observer to have ascertained wherein laid the root of that evil, which, like a poisonous upas, seemed to spread its branches through the household. There was a cloud apparently shadowing each face there; there was constantly some trouble of a domestic character. Sir Robert and Lady Bramble seemed to be not on the best of terms with each other, and the servants wore a hang-dog look, as though they expected at any moment to be called to account for some piece of rascality. There was, however, one pleasant face in that household, though even that seemed tempered by sadness; this was the youngest brother, Charles. He was, or rather would have been, a cheerful, happy boy, but for the malign influence of his brother Robert, who seemed his opposite in almost everything. Robert was jealous, irritable and revengeful; Charles was open-hearted, mild and forgiving. Robert was cruel to both servants and animals; Charles was kind to all, and a favorite with all; even the dumb animals avoided one and adhered to the other, instinctively knowing a friend. Robert was the first born and the favorite with his mother, whom he ruled literally in all things, while Sir Robert, looking upon him as the legal heir and representative of his name, of course considered him in a somewhat different light from that in which he regarded Charles. At times it seemed as though an evil spirit had taken possession of Robert's heart, and he delighted in oppressing, domineering over and abusing his brother, who, though he did not lack for spirit, yet could never bring it to bear against Robert. He meekly bore his reproaches and abuse, and even at times had suffered personal chastisement at his hands without complaint to his parents, rather than irritate both them and himself by referring to so disagreeable a matter. With a naturally patient disposition, he suffered much without complaint. Sir Robert and Lady Bramble seemed blind to the fact that the unbounded indulgence which they yielded to their eldest child was rendering still worse a disposition and habit which were already an affliction in themselves. But Robert was persevering, and would always carry his point, let it be what it might, teasing and cajoling the mother until she granted his wishes however absurd they might be. He domineered over every one, mother, father, servant maids and servant men; he was the terror of all. Charles added to his light-heartedness and cheerfulness of spirit, great agility, and for a boy of his age, remarkable strength, in which matters Robert was deficient, and here his jealousy found ample scope. Charles, too, was remarkably apt with his studies, whereas Robert generally ended his lessons by quarrelling with his tutor, and setting both father and mother against him, by which reason the worthy who filled that post at Bramble Park was usually changed at least once in six or eight weeks, and thus were matters at the period to which we refer. It seemed as though Robert was never happy unless he was doing some one harm, or distressing some of the many pet animals about the spacious grounds; in this latter occupation he passed much of his leisure time, and was a great adept at the business. A fine St. Charles spaniel, belonging to Lady Bramble, had one day, after being teased beyond forbearance by Robert, at last in self-defence, snapped at and lightly bit him, in revenge for which the violent tempered boy vowed to kill him, and the very next opportunity he had, he seized upon the little pet, and tying a string and stone about its neck, bore the dog to the large pond in the centre of the part, where he threw him into the deepest part. Charles at that moment came in sight, and at once saw the act. Without pausing to take off his clothes or any part of them, he sprang at once into the pond and dove down for the dog; but he found the stone about its neck too heavy for him to bring to the surface, though he struggled long and stoutly to do so before he yielded. Swimming to the shore, Charles took his knife from his pocket, and once more dashed in; and this time diving down he cut the cord, and releasing the dog from the bottom swam with him to the opposite shore from where Robert stood, all the while threatening him. Here his younger brother smoothed the water from the dog's coat, and instinctively rubbing its benumbed limbs until it became quite resuscitated, and after a short time, following close to Charles for protection, it returned to his mother's side in her boudoir. But Robert had been there before him, and had already manufactured a story redounding to Charles's discredit, and provoking both his mother's and father's anger, the latter of whom at Robert's instance, even struck the gallant-hearted boy a severe blow with the flat of his hand as a punishment for what he denominated an interference with his brother's sport. Charles said nothing; he knew the prejudice which Robert's constant misrepresentations had created against him in his parents' breasts; he realized too, young as he was, that it was useless for him to attempt to explain, though he felt the injustice of this treatment; and so with a quivering lip he turned away from the scene and went in his wet clothes to the servants' hall where he might dry them. He said nothing, but looked much sadder than usual as he stood there before the fire. A coarse but honest servant, Leonard Hust, who had been born on the estate, and whose father before him had been a servant in Sir Robert's household, came stealthily to Charles's side and busied himself in helping him to arrange his clothes and dry them, while he smoothed the boy's hair and wiped his face. "Never mind, master Charles," said the honest fellow, noticing the trembling lips of the handsome boy; "never mind, it's a gallant act in you, and though I say it, who shouldn't, perhaps, master Robert never would have dared to do it; he hasn't got half your courage and strength, though he's bigger and older." A tear was all the answer that the boy vouchsafed to his honest effort at consolation. He too proud to make a confidant of the servant, or to confide to him of his father's conduct, or even that of Robert. Leonard Hust watched the boy carefully, and entered keenly into his feelings, until at last he said: "I wasn't the only one who saw you save her ladyship's pet, master Charles." "It wasn't father or mother that saw it?" asked Charles, quickly, as he recalled the injustice he had just experienced at their hands, under Robert's prompting. "No, master Charles." "Was it cousin Helen?" continued the boy. "Yes, master Charles," answered Leonard Hust, with a knowing smile. "O," said the boy, as a glow of pleasure lit up his features for a moment. It was evident that the knowledge of the said cousin Helen's having seen his exertions to save the little favorite spaniel, gave Charles not a little satisfaction. Now cousin Helen--as a little blue-eyed child of eight years, the daughter of the family whose estate joined that of Bramble Park, was called--was no cousin at all, but the children had thus nicknamed each other, and they were most happy playmates together. Robert, who was three years his brother's senior, was more fond of little Helen than of anybody else; indeed, in spite of his ill temper, he was wont to try and please her at any cost. But the child, who was as beautiful as a little fairy, did not respond at all to his advances of friendship, while to Charles she was all tenderness and confiding in everything, kissing him with childish fervor and truth whenever they parted, a familiarity she never permitted to his brother. The truth was, Robert to his great discomfiture, was aware that Charles's manly and courageous act of saving the dog had been witnessed by Helen, though his brother knew it not until told by Leonard Hust. This had aggravated Robert so much that he had hastened home, and fabricating a story of Charles having thrown the dog into the pond, and wet himself completely, preparing his parents for a rough reception of his brother when he should return, and hence the treatment he received. Leonard made his young master change his clothes, and after making him comfortable, left him to amuse himself in the open park with his ball, where the light-hearted Charles was soon thoughtlessly happy, and forgetful of the unkindness of Robert and the injustice of his parents. So light are the cares and mishaps of youth, so easily forgotten are its hardships, either seeming or real. Happy childhood! Whether little cousin Helen had been on the watch for Charley, or whether she was there by accident, it matters not, suffice it to say that the two soon met in their headlong career of fun and frolic, and two more joyous or merry spirits never met on the soft green sward than these. Now they tire of the play at ball and sit down together close by the brink of the clear, deep pond, next the rich flower beds that shed their grateful fragrance around the spot. Cousin Helen, still panting from the exertion of the play, looked thoughtfully into the almost transparent water, and involuntarily heaved a sigh that did not escape her companion's notice. "Art sick, cousin Helen?" asked Charles, quickly. "Nay, not I," said the pleasant-voiced child, "not I, Charley." "But you sighed as though you were very tired or in pain," he continued. "Did I?" said the child, thoughtfully; "well, I believe I did." "And what for, cousin Helen?" said Charles, tenderly, parting her natural ringlets back from her beautiful and radiant face--doubly radiant now as she looked up into his, so confidingly and so affectionately. "I was thinking," she said, ingenuously, "how cruel Robert was to your mother's pet. I don't see how he could do such a thing, do you, Charley?" "Robert is quick-tempered," said his brother, "and perhaps regrets it now. I guess the dog bit him, or something of that sort." He was too generous, too manly, to complain of Robert's cruel treatment of him, or to mention the unkindness he had experienced from his parents. But he had not forgotten these occurrences, and his lip once more quivered with emotion, and his clear, handsome eyes were suffused with tears. Quick as thought his little companion divined with womanly instinct the cause, for she was not ignorant of the state of affairs, young as she was, that existed at Bramble Park. Drawing nearer to his side, she threw one arm tenderly and with childish abandon over his neck, and with the other brushed away the gathering tears, until Charles smiled again and leaned over and kissed her sweet little lips as a brother might have done! And then together they plucked a beautiful bouquet, and busied themselves in arranging it and classifying the various plants by their botanical names, for both children were well versed in this delightful study, young as they were. While they were thus engaged, Robert came up and angrily discovered the two children thus happy together. Saying some rude things to Charles, he pushed him away from his playmate's side with rude and brutal force, throwing Charles to the ground. This was too much, even for his forbearing spirit, and the injured and outraged boy, smarting under the previous injury he had endured, rose quickly to his feet, and with one blow knocked Robert heavily upon the ground. The blow had been a severe one, and the boy was faint and unable to stand for a moment. Charles looked at him for an instant, then helped to raise him up, and waited until he was again sufficiently conscious to walk. Then he saw him walk angrily toward the house, where he knew very well what would follow on his return there. All the while his little companion had stood regarding first one and then the other. Now Charles stepped to her side, and said: "I am sorry, Helen; but it is very, very hard to bear." She shook her little head as he spoke, but held up her lips for the kiss he offered, and saw him turn away from home towards the distant town. CHAPTER V. THE NAVAL OFFICER. THE reader will think that seven league boots--the storyteller's prerogative--are in special demand as it regards our story, for once more we must return through a period of years to the date, or thereabouts, on which our story opens. It was on one of those close, sultry afternoons that characterize the climate of summer in India, that two of our characters were seated together in a graceful and rather elegant villa in the environs of Calcutta. The air of the lady--for the couple were of either sex, was one of beauty in repose. She was evidently listening to the gallant speech of her companion with respect, but without interest, while on his part the most casual observer might have read in his voice, his features, and his words, the accent, the bearing, the language of love. The lady was a gentle being of surpassing beauty, with black eyes, jetty hair and brilliant complexion; there was little of the characteristics of the East in her appearance, though she seemed to be quite at home beneath the Indian Sun. She was of the middle height, perhaps a little too slender and delicate in form to meet a painter's idea of perfection, but yet just such an idol as a poet would have worshipped. She was strikingly handsome, and there was a brilliancy and spirit in the glance of her dark eyes that told of much character, and much depth of feeling; and while you gazed at her now, sitting beneath the broad piazza, you would have detected a shadow ever and anon cross her brow, as though the words of him by her side aroused some unpleasant memory, and diverted her thoughts rather to past scenes than to the consideration of his immediate remarks. The gentleman who seemed to be pleading an unsuccessful suit, wore the undress uniform of the English navy, and in the outer harbor, in view of the very spot where they sat, there rode a sloop-of-war with St. George's cross floating at her peak. The officer was young, but bore the insignia of his rank upon his person, which showed him to be the captain of yonder proud vessel. He might have been five or six and twenty, but scarcely more, and bore about him those unmistakable tokens of gentle birth which will shine through the coarsest as well as the finest attire. The lady was not regarding him now; her eyes were bent on the distant sea, but still he pleaded, still urged in gentle tones the suit he brought. "I see, Miss Huntington has some more favored swain on whom to bestow her favors; but I am sure that she has no truer friend, or more ardent admirer." "You are altogether mistaken in your premises," she said, coolly, as she tossed her fragrant fan of sandal wood, perfuming the soft atmosphere about them. "A subject who sues for a favor at court, Miss Huntington, if he is unsuccessful, thinks himself at least entitled to know the reason why he is denied." "But suppose the Court declines to give him a reason," said the lady, still coolly. "Its decision admits of no appeal, I must acknowledge," replied her suitor. "Then reason I have none, captain; and so pray let that suffice." "But, Miss Huntington, surely--" "Nay, captain," she said, at last, weary of his importunity, "you know well my feelings. Far be it from me to play for one moment the coquette's part. I thank you for the compliment you pay me by these assurances, but you are fully aware that I can never encourage a suit that finds no response in my heart. I trust that no word or act of mine has ever deceived you for one moment." "No, Miss Huntington, you have ever been thus cold and impassive towards me, ever turning a deaf ear to my prayer. Why, why can you not love me?" "Nay, captain, we will not enter into particulars; it is needless, it is worse than needless, and a matter that is exceedingly unpleasant to me. I must earnestly beg, sir, that you will not again refer to this subject under any circumstance." "Your commands are law to me, Miss Huntington," answered the discomfited lover, as he rose from the seat he had occupied by her side, and turned partially away. It was well he did so, for had she seen the demoniac expression of his countenance as he struggled to control the vehemence of his feelings, she would have feared that he might do either her or himself violence. "May I not hope that years of fond attachment, years of continued assiduity, may yet outweigh your indifference, Miss Huntington?" he said earnestly. "Indeed, indeed no. You do but pain me by this continuance of a subject that--Ah, mother!" she said, interrupting herself, "I have been looking at the captain's ship, yonder; is she not a noble craft? And how daintily she floats upon the waters?" "A ship is always a beautiful sight, my child; and especially so when she bears the flag that we see flaunting gracefully from that vessel." "When do you sail, captain?" asked Mrs. Huntington, who had just joined her daughter on the piazza, and did not observe the officer's confusion. "The ship rides by a single anchor, madam, and only waits her commander," he replied, rather mechanically than otherwise, as he turned his glance seaward. "So soon? I had hoped you were to favor us with a longer stay," said she mother. The officer looked towards the daughter, as though he wished it had been her that had expressed such a desire. But she still gazed at the distant ship, and he saw no change in her handsome features. "We officers are not masters of our own time, madam, and can rarely consult our own wishes as to a cruising ground; but I frankly own that it was something more than mere accident which brought me this time to Calcutta." As he said this, his eyes again wandered towards her daughter's face, but it was still cold, impassive and beautiful as before, while she gazed on that distant sea. He paused for a moment more, almost trembling with suppressed emotions of disappointment, chagrin and anger, and seemed at a loss what to say further; he felt constrained, and wished that he might have seen the daughter for a moment more alone. "Farewell is an unpleasant word to say, ladies," he said, at last, still controlling his feelings with a masterly effort. Then offerings a hand to the mother, he bowed respectfully and said "Good-by;" and to her, who now turned with evident feeling evinced in her lovely face at the idea of a long parting, he offered his hand, which was frankly pressed, while he said: "I carry away a heavy heart to sea with me, Miss Huntington; could it be weighed, it would overballast yonder ship." "Farewell, captain; a happy and safe voyage to you," she answered, with assumed gaiety of tone; but there was no reply. He bowed low and hastened away, with a spirit of disappointment clouding his sun-burned features. The view which might be had from the window commanded a continuous sight of the road that the young officer must traverse to reach the ship, and though she had treated him thus coldly, and had so decidedly declined his suit, yet here lingered some strange interest about him in her mind, as was evinced by her now repairing to the window, and sitting behind the broad shadow of its painted screen, where she watched his approach to she landing, near the city gates, and saw the sturdy boatmen dip their oars in regular time, propelling the boat with arrow-like speed to the ship's side, where its master hastened upon deck and disappeared, while the boat was hoisted to the quarter-davits. Anon she saw the sheets fall from the ponderous yards, and sheeted home, the anchor gradually raised to her bow, the yards squared to bring her with her head to the sea, and then a clear white cloud of smoke burst from her bows as she gathered steerage-way, and a dull heavy report of distant ordinance boomed upon the ear of the listening girl, unanswered by a deep sigh from her own bosom--a sigh not for him who had just left her, but for some kindred association that his presence aroused. The villa where we have introduced the reader was that of the late Edward Huntington, a successful English merchant, who had resided many years in India and had realized a fortune, which he had proposed to return to his native land to enjoy with his wife and only child. But death had stepped in to put an abrupt end to his hopes, and to render abortive all his well-arranged plans, some twelve months previous to the period of which we have spoken. Mrs. Huntington, the widow, had remained in Calcutta to settle up her husband's affairs, and this done, she determined to embark at once with her daughter for England, where her relatives, friends and early associations were all located. Miss Huntington, as the reader may have gathered, was no coquette; her great beauty and real loveliness of character had challenged the admiration of many a rich grandee and many an eminent character among her own countrymen in this distant land. But no one had seemed to mate the least impression upon her heart; the gayest and wittiest found in her one quite their equal; the thoughtful and pathetic were equally at home by her side; but her heart, to them, seemed encased in iron, so cold and immovable it continued to all the assaults that gallantry made against its fastness, and yet no one who knew her really doubted the tenderness of her feelings and the sensibility of her heart. Her beauty was quite matured--that is she must have numbered at least twenty years; but there was still a girlish loveliness, a childlike parity and sincerity in all she said and did, that showed the real freshness of her heart and innocence of her mind. Far too pure and good and gentle was she for him who had so earnestly sued for her hand, as we have seen. Beneath a gentlemanly exterior, that other, whom we have seen depart from her side under such peculiar circumstances, hid a spirit of petty meanness and violence of temper, a soul that hardly merited the name, and which made him enemies everywhere, friends nowhere. Robert Bramble--for this was he, the same whom the reader has seen as a boy at home in Bramble Park--had not improved in spirit or manliness by advance in years. The declining pecuniary fortune of his father's house, to which we have before alluded, had led him early to seek employment in the navy, and by dint of influence and attention to his profession, he had gradually risen to the position in which we have found him, as a commander in her majesty's service on the India station. That he loved the widow's daughter was true--that is to say, as sincerely as he was capable of loving any one; but his soul was too selfish to entertain true love for another. The same spirit that had led him to the petty oppressions and the ceaseless annoyances which he had exercised towards his younger brother in childhood, still actuated him, and there was not a gleam of that chivalric spirit which his profession usually inspires in those who adopt it as a calling, shining within the recesses of his breast. Entirely unlike Miss Huntington in every particular, we have yet seen that he exercised some singular power over her--that is, so far as to really interest her beyond even a degree that she was willing to exhibit before him. What and why this was so must more clearly appear in the course of the story as it progresses. Mrs. Huntington was a lady of polished manner and cultivated intellect, belonging to what might be termed the old school of English gentlewomen. She had reared her only child with jealous care and assiduous attention, so that her mind had been richly stored in classic lore, and her hands duly instructed in domestic duties. There was no mock-modesty about the mother, she was straightforward and literal in all she said or did; evidently of excellent family, she was sufficiently assured of her position not to be sensitive about its recognition by others, and preferred to instil into her daughter's mind sound wholesome principles to useless and giddy accomplishments. And yet the daughter was accomplished, an excellent musician upon the piano and harp, and a vocalist of rare sweetness and perfection of execution, as well as mistress of other usual studies of her sex. But the idea we would convey is, that the mother had rather endeavored to fill her child's mind with real information and knowledge, than to teach her that the chief end and aim of life were to learn how to captivate a husband; she preferred to make her daughter a true and noble-hearted woman, possessed of intrinsic excellence, rather than to make her marketable for matrimonial sale; to give her something that would prove to her under any and all circumstances, a reliance viz., sound principles and an excellent education. "Mother, how long before we shall turn our face towards England?" said the daughter, soon after the scene which we have described of the sailing ship and her commander. "Within the month I hope, my child. I have already directed the solicitor to close up all his business relative to your father's estate, and the next homeward-bound ship may bear us in it." "I shall feel sad to leave our peaceful home here, mother, for, save my dear father's death, has been very pleasant, very happy to be here." "There are many dear associations that must ever hang about its memory, my dear; but after all, we shall be returning to our native land, and that is a sweet thought. It is some twelve years since we lost sight of English soil." "I remember it most vividly," said the child, recalling the past; "ay, as though it were but yesterday!" That night, as she lay sleeping in her daintily-furnished apartment, into which the soft night-air was admitted through sweet geranium and mignonette, which bloomed and shed their perfume with rare sweetness, she dreamed of her native land, of him who had that day left her so disappointed, of her childhood, and all its happy memories, and of much that we will not refer to lest we anticipate our story. CHAPTER VI. THE WRECK. ABOUT a fortnight subsequent to the period of the last chapter, Mrs. Huntington and her daughter, with a single attendant found themselves embarked on board the Bengal, a large, well-found Indiaman, bound for Liverpool. The ship belonged to the East India Company, was a good carrier, but calculated more for freight than speed. She was a new ship and strong as iron and wood could be put together, and the widow and her child found their quarters on board of an exceedingly comfortable nature. They were the only passengers on board, but the vessel had a heavy freight list, and as she moved out from her anchorage to lay her course to sea, her draft of water was very deep. The Bengal fortunately encountered none but the most favorable winds and tides for many a long and to those on board somewhat monotonous days, and the sun rose out of the sea clear and bright, and sunk again beneath its surface in gorgeous splendor with every diurnal rotation, until at length the ship touched at the Cape of Good Hope, where, having taken fresh water and provisions on board, she cleared direct for Liverpool. Every hour now seemed more especially to draw the ship nearer her port of destination, and a fresh spirit was infused among passengers and crew, in cabin and forecastle; but it was a long distance yet, and the widow and her daughter found time for much study and reading, for which they were amply supplied, and thus the time was lightened in its progress and also well improved. But the ocean is a treacherous element, and the fair weather which had so long characterized their voyage, was to be varied now by fierce and angry gales. It was the season of the year when they might expect this, and the captain had kept a sharp lookout. It was the middle of a fine afternoon that there was observed a singular phenomenon in the wind which appeared to come from half a dozen points at the same moment. The ship of course lost her steerage way, and the sea began most singularly to get up from all points in heavy cross waves. It was evident that they were either in the course of a whirlwind or close to its track, and every now and then gusts came first larboard then starboard, and again bows on and stern on, with a force that snapped the rigging like pipe stems, and tore the canvass from the bolt ropes, notwithstanding the prompt orders and nimble efforts of the seamen, before it could be secured. Half an hour of this strange weather nearly stripped the ship of her standing rigging, leaving her comparatively a helpless wreck upon the waters, a mere log at the mercy of the wind and waves. The worst had not yet come, however, for the ship was sound still in her hull, and save that she was now wallowing in the trough of the sea, she was comparatively safe; she had sprung no leak, but her heavy freight tested her powers fearfully, and the captain was fain to acknowledge that there was nought to be done but abide the raging of the storm until it was over. His attempt to rig a jury mast, on which to bend sail enough to give the ship steerage way, was perfectly fruitless; she rolled and pitched so fearfully that no effort of the kind could succeed, but the crew were kept busy throwing over the heavier at tiles of freight to case the ship. As right came on with its intense darkness relieved only by now and then a terrible flash of liquid fire, all on board expected each moment might be their last. Prayers were said, and all tried to compose their minds as far as possible to meet that death which seemed to be fast approaching them, when suddenly the cry ran, fore and aft that the captain was lost overboard! This added to the general gloom; and now a cry was heard "there goes the Flying Dutchman," as was seen by several on board the Indiaman, during the interval of the vivid lightning, a large ship dash by them almost within cable's length, with a single topsail close reefed running before the gale with the speed of the wind. It did indeed look like a phantom craft. All was snug on board, not a soul was in sight, everything battened down, save one dark form apparently lashed to the wheel stanchions and steadily bent upon keeping the ship before the storm; it was a sight that added to the terror of those on board the Indiaman, and its effect was at once visible. The ignorant and superstitious seamen, ever ready to argue evil from any strange occurrence, now felt assured of their destruction, declaring that the strange appearance of the phantom-ship was but a warning to foretell the fate that was preparing for them. Thus actuated, all discipline was gone, and no connected efforts were further made to protect the ship or render her in any degree safer from the power of the storm. To add still more to the critical condition on board, the ship after straining and laboring so long, now began to leak and rapidly to fill. In this desperate state of affairs several of the crew, whose numbers were already thinned by being washed overboard, got into the spirit room and in a condition of wild desperation became beastly intoxicated, resolving to die insensible to danger! and at intervals their crazy oaths and incoherent songs were heard above the gale. At this crisis, as is generally the case, two or three sterling spirits among the crew (and there is never a ship's company without some such among its members), one, the second mate, and a couple of foremast hands, came into the cabin and assured the widow and her daughter that they would protect them to the last, and that they were even now preparing the long boat with compass, water and food, so that should the storm abate and the sea become less agitated before the ship should fill and go down, they might launch it, and with the ladies and such of them as desired, attempt to save themselves in this frail bark. With heartfelt gratitude the mother and child accepted their protection and awaited the crisis; but not without solemnly kneeling together upon the cabin floor and committing themselves to the care of Divine Providence. The second mate of the Bengal was the only officer left, but he was a good sailor, a man of cool nerve and great personal strength. He now went calmly to work, sounded the well and found four feet of water in the ship, made his calculations how long it would require for the ship to fill at the rate she then made water, and then set to work with his two companions to rig a triangle with spars above the long boat, so as to lift and launch it just when the proper moment should arrive, but this he found to be impracticable. As the morning broke in the cast the gale subsided, but the sea still kept up its angry commotion, though that too, gradually subsided, the waves growing less and less, and the ship becoming more and more quiet, enabling those on board to keep at least upon their feet. In the meantime, the ship had gradually settled so that the water was already on the cabin floor. In vain were the entreaties of the mate and his companions for the four or five hands who had possessed themselves of the key of the spirit room to come on deck and save themselves; they could neither be persuaded nor forced to move, but lay in a state of beastly intoxication. Everything had been done that was possible, to prepare for launching the long boat, and the widow and her daughter had already by the mate's sanction taken their seats within it, while one of the seamen secured and carefully stored the few articles of necessity which had been selected. The two masts of the boat were stepped and carefully secured, the gripes that secured the boat in its place were cut, leaving it standing upright in its wooden bed, but entirely free from the deck of the ship. Already had the ship sunk so low that all communication with the cabin was cut off, and the poor inebriated wretches who had there sought oblivion in intoxication also found their tomb. Food, water and compass were properly disposed, so that any sudden movement of the boat should not dislodge them, oars and sails in readiness, and a careful examination had, lest some straggling rope might in some way connect the boat with the wreck, so as to draw them under when the floundering mass should at last go down. The crisis which they now expected seemed strangely protracted, and their fearful suspense was almost unbearable. The mate had placed one of his hands at the bows, another amidships, while himself and the two passengers occupied the stern; the precaution having also been taken to secure the ladies by ropes to the boat. The weather had now entirely moderated, and the sea was comparatively calm, except that now and then a heavy swell would lift the waterlogged craft and surge about the hull, causing it to groan as though conscious of its approaching fate. Moments assumed the length of hours now, and the countenance of each was a picture of agonized suspense and momentary expectation, no one spoke above their breath. Again the heavy swell caused the hull to lurch and pitch until her bows were almost buried, and the water was even with the scuppers--the moment was approaching. "Steady, all," said the mate, calmly, as he saw another approaching swell, which he knew must cause the vessel to lift and settle again, and probably this time prove the signal for her final plunge altogether. "Steady, I say, and hold on to the boat stoutly now. Don't let go, ladies, for an instant!" The seaman was right, the heavy hull was ful this surge came on, burying her for an instant, and actually sweeping the boat clear of her bulwarks out upon the sea, a most fortunate circumstance, which was instantly taken advantage of, by pulling with the oars for a single instant, and still further clearing the wreck, which now rose high at the bows for a moment as the stern settled and gradually sunk, causing a vortex which would certainly have engulfed the boat, had it not been able thus to pull a short distance away, and which even now drew it rapidly back to the spot where the ship had laid, and causing it to toss fearfully for a while, but in a few moments more all was quiet. "Thank God, that is over," said the mate, earnestly; "it was little short of a miracle that we did not all of us go down with the ship." The widow covered her face with her hands and breathed a silent prayer of thankfulness. It was already night again, and steering by the stars the mate laid his course, after affording a spare sail to cover the mother and her daughter, who having partaken of some needed refreshment, the first for many hours, were soon lost in sleep, induced by the great bodily fatigue and physical exertion they had so lately encountered in this emergency. The men stood watch and watch, relieving each other at intervals throughout the night, while the boat with its two lugger sails crept on steadily upon its course. It was remarkable to observe the delicacy observed by those three seamen towards the widow and her daughter, to mark their assiduity towards them as to their necessities and their wants; while they, on their part, were patient, uncomplaining and grateful. The second and third day passed on, when the mate calculated they were steering direct for the nearest point of land which they could not fail to reach in another day, it being the coast of Africa. His calculations were made under disadvantages, but he felt confident of their correctness. The weather, fortunately, had been very calm and pleasant thus far, since the gale had subsided, and the frail craft thus exposed upon the ocean had really proved quite comfortable and weatherly for the time being. A snug little apology for a cabin had been constructed over the forward part of the boat, into which the ladies could retire at nightfall, and become secure from the weather and be entirely by themselves; and under the circumstances they were really quite comfortable, that is to say, they experienced little exposure to the elements at night, and slept securely in their narrow quarters. In leaving the ship, the mother had been more thoughtful than many persons would have been, and had taken the box which contained her valuables and such papers as comprised her heavy bills of credit on England, in which way she was transporting the bulk of her husband's late valuable estate to her native land. At first she had taken especial pains not to have the fact known to the men that she had any great amount of valuables with her, lest it should prove a temptation to them, and lead to some tragical result as it regarded the safety of herself and child. But she need not have feared, those hearty sons of the ocean were true as steel; and it was only the second day that having laid the casket down carelessly in the boat, she had retired to the little forecastle forgetting it, when it was brought to her again by one of them who remarked, that he presumed it was something of particular value by its appearance. According to the mate's reckoning, the time had already arrived when the land should heave in sight, and the three seamen were constantly on the lookout for it in the supposed direction where it should appear; but all their search for it proved in vain, there was the same endless expanse of ocean before them day after day, bounded only by the dim horizon, and unrelieved by any object, while the same hope reigned in their hearts. The exposure they endured, though not very severe, yet began to tell upon them all, and especially the mate and two seamen, and the cheeks of the seamen already looked sunken, their eyes less spirited. This was the combined result of their feelings of disappointment with physical labor, for they worked several hours at the oars every day, aiding the sailing power of the boat, in the hopes of reaching the land before another gale or storm should occur. Now, however, they began to discard the oars, and to feel less and less courage to labor in propelling the boat. The widow who was not a little of a philosopher and a woman of good sound mind, determined to do something to amuse the men, and cheer them up in their emergency; she saw how sadly they needed some such influence, and telling her daughter of her purpose, when night again came on she induced her to sing some of her sweetest airs with all her power of execution, and to repeat them to the real joy and delight of these hardy men, who at once gathered an agency from this music, and declared it was the harbinger of good. Whether it was so in the way they supposed or not, it certainly was a harbinger of good as it regarded its cheering effects upon them, and their hearts were again filled with hope, and their sinews bent once more to toil at the oars. CHAPTER VII. THE SEA WITCH. WHILE those sweet notes were being uttered under these peculiar circumstances, and the soft thrilling voice of, the English girl floated over the sea, and the stars looked down coldly upon those wrecked adventurers, the mate who sat at the helm was observed to be peering in the boat's wake, as though looking for some coming object that would soon overtake them. Leaning over the boat's stern, he placed his cars as near the surface of the water as possible and listened. This he repeated several times, with increased earnestness, then partially shading his eyes with his hands, he gazed back into the dim night air with intense interest, while the rest in the boat regarded him silently, wondering what could be the import of his movements. "Either there is a big fish in our wake, or I hear the ripple of a ship's cut-water. But I cannot see hull or canvass in this darkness," said the mate, after a brief but searching gaze in the direction from whence they had come. "It cannot be that you could hear the movement of a ship upon the water, farther than you could see her even in this light," said the mother. "It may have been the hauling of a ship's yards, or some rickety block, but sound I did hear that came from on ship board," said the mate, with assurance. "See, see," said the daughter, at that moment, "what is that?" pointing off nearly in the wake of the boat into the darkness. "A ship!" said the mate, quickly; "a ship, as true as heaven!" adding, "shout, shout together now, or she will run us down." As he spoke, all eyes were bent on the dim object that was now fast approaching them, and steering as nearly on the same course with themselves as possible. Only a cloud of canvass was visible now, but soon the dark hull of a vessel appeared, and the mate hastened to light a lantern and hoist it to attract their attention. The signal was seemingly observed in an instant on board the stranger, and the hoarse deep order to heave the ship to, rolled over the waters and rang a welcome sound in the cars of those in the boat. "I know not what sort of craft she is," said the mate; "and this is a latitude where pirates intercept the homeward bound ships sometimes, though according to ny reckoning, we are too well in for the land to be in that track." "I trust there is no danger in accepting the assistance that the ship appears willing to give?" said the mother anxiously, to the mate. "It is not more dangerous than to pass another night in this open boat, madam, at all events," replied the mate, frankly. "Stand by, to take this tow-line," shouted a voice from the bulwarks of the ship, as the vessel drifted with a side impetus towards the tiny craft, while the figure of a man was observed in the mizzen shrouds with a coil of line ready to heave, at the word of command. "Ay, ay," answered the mate, steering his boat so as to bring her side on to the ship, and opening his arms to catch the line, which he saw was about to be thrown. "Heave, heave clear of all," shouted a stern, manly voice from the quarter-deck of the ship at this moment; "heave with a will." And a stout tow-line rattled through the air with a whizzing sound and lay between the mate's extended arms. This was instantly seized upon, and while one of the men took a turn about the stanchion in the bow of the boat, those on board the ship gathered in the line until the boat was safely moored under her quarter. No words were exchanged, until the ladies, first, and the seamen next, were taken on board: the fact of their being wrecked and in distress being too apparent to require questioning. The valuables in the boat were quickly transferred to the ship, and the little craft which had proved an ark of safety to the adventurers, was then cut adrift, and soon lay a mere speck upon the waters, unguided and alone. As the boat drifted for a moment astern of the vessel before the party were taken on board, the mate rend her name on the stern in golden letters, "The Sea Witch." The foremast hands who had been saved from the wreck soon mingled with the crew on the forecastle of the "Sea Witch," and told their story there, while the mate and the ladies were received in the most hospitable manner in the cabin, where the captain endeavored to offer them every comfort the ship afforded, and to place every resource entirely at their command. Mrs. Huntington and her daughter were at first too tearful and full of gratitude for their preservation to converse, and soon took advantage of the kind offer which placed the captain's private apartments entirely at their service, while the mate explained their adventures in detail, not forgetting the phantom ship which passed them in the gale, and which had caused such consternation on board the wrecked Indiaman. But his story in this particular was unfortunately spoiled, when Captain Ratlin told him positively that he was at that moment on board the very craft which he had designated as the Flying Dutchman. A remark that for a moment puzzled the honest seaman and led him to look suspiciously about him; but a few corroborating remarks soon placed the subject at rest in even the mate's credulous mind. The fact was, that the same gale which had made a wreck of the Indiaman, had driven the "Sea Witch" two days' sail or more out of her course, and had thus brought her in sight of the Bengal at that critical moment when it would have been impossible to have rendered her the least assistance. The continuance of the gale had carried the ship far to the southward, from whence she was now returning. It was early morning upon the day succeeding that auspicious night for the party in the boat, that Miss Huntington and her mother made their appearance upon the quarter-deck, and tendered their thanks for the service rendered. Captain Ratlin received them there with a frank, manly air, assured them of full protection, and that he would land them at some port from whence they could take ship for England. A very few hours placed him on the best of terms with his passengers, for there was that frank, and open discourse of manner with him, which his countenance promised, while he felt irresistibly drawn towards the gentle and beautiful girl whose protector he had thus strangely and suddenly become. Not one point of her sweet beauty was lost upon the young commander, and her every word and movement he seemed to dwell upon, and to consider with a tenacious degree of interest. On her part, Miss Huntington looked upon him as her preserver, and did not hesitate to accord him that confidence which the circumstances of her situation would so naturally lead to, being delighted and entertained by the sketches he gave her of sea life and wild adventure upon the ocean, elicited by her suggestion. The mother, too, was well-pleased with the profound respect and polite attention which herself and daughter received from him, and accorded him that cordial countenance in his intercourse with her child which placed him quite at ease. "We have not even asked you, Captain Ratlin, what trade you are in," said the mother, as they sat together, her daughter and the young commander, upon the quarter-deck beneath an awning which had been rigged for their comfort. "Ahem! madam!" hesitated the young officer, "we are, that is, yes, we are on a trading voyage to the coast--just at the present time." Whether the mother saw that the subject was not one which was of an agreeable nature to him, or otherwise, she at once changed the subject, and congenial themes were discussed, to the delight of the daughter, who dwelt with evident pleasure upon the manly tones of the captain's voice, which seemed to have some secret charm upon her. Even her mother noticed this, and seemed to regard her with sensitive watchfulness while the captain was near, though there was no well defined suspicion or fear in her mind. "Is it customary for traders upon these seas to go so thoroughly armed, Captain Ratlin?" asked the daughter, one day, after she had been shown about the decks, at her own request, where she had marked the heavy calibre of the gun amidship, its well as the neat and serviceable array of small arms within the entrance to the cabin. "It is a treacherous latitude, lady, and the strong arm often makes the right," he answered again, evasively, as he called her attention to some distant object in the horizon, while at the same moment there was shouted from aloft: "Land O!" "Land, land!" repeated the gentle being by his side, "what land?" "Africa," quietly responded the captain, without a token of satisfaction. "Africa? that is indeed an inhospitable shore; can we land there?" "Yes, I shall make sure that you land safely, and can despatch you to Sierra Leone, from whence you can take ship for England, but--" "Sail O!" shouted the lookout. "Whereaway?" asked the captain promptly, seizing a deck trumpet and abruptly turning from her to whom he had been speaking, while his whole manner changed at once. "A couple of points on the larboard beam, sir," answered the seaman. "All hands, Mr. Faulkner, and 'bout ship; that square rig and the heavy lift of those topsails tell what there must be below to sustain them. Lively, sir, the 'Sea Witch' must show her qualities." Miss Huntington had watched with some amazement these orders, and the result of the same, and as she saw the beautiful craft in which she was put at once on the opposite tack and steer boldly away from the shore which had just been made, she could not help for a moment remembering the words of the mate in the boat, that pirates sometimes were found in these latitudes! After a moment's thought she felt that she did Captain Ratlin injustice, for whatever might cause him to flee from the sight of what she presumed by his remarks to be a man-of-war, yet she felt that he could not be a pirate. True, the vessel even to her inexperienced eye was very strongly manned, and there was a severity of discipline observed on board that was very different from what she had seen while they were in the Indiaman, but that man could not be a pirate, she felt that he could not--she would not do him the injustice to think it possible. Let the stranger be whom he might, the "Sea Witch" seemed to have no intention of making his acquaintance, and as easily dropped the topsails of the vessel again as she had made them, while from the manner in which the stranger steered, it was doubtful whether his lookout had made out the "Sea Witch" at all--and so Captain Ratlin remarked to his first officer, while he ordered the ship to be kept on her present course for an hour, then to haul up on the wind and run in shore again. "Is it usual, Captain Ratlin," asked the young and beautiful girl, "for vessels on the coast to so dread meeting each other as to deliberately alter their course when this seems likely to be the case?" "Trade is peculiar on this coast, and men-of-warsmen take extraordinary liberties on board such vessels as they happen to overhaul," was the reply. "I always avoid their company when I can do so conveniently." As Captain Ratlin said this, his eyes met those of his companion for a moment, which were bent anxiously upon his face, as though she would read his inmost thoughts. He noted the expression, and replied at once: "Whatever suspicion or fear may have entered Miss Huntington's mind, I beg of her to dispel, as it regards her own and her mother's safety and comfort. Both shall be my sole care until you are safely landed upon shore, where I shall at the earliest moment place you in a situation to reach your homes in England." "I know you will do this," she replied, "and if my looks betrayed any anxiety, it was not for our safety, but for your own, Captain Ratlin." "My safety, lady? do you then consider that worth your anxiety?" he asked, with unmistakable earnestness in his voice. "You have been more than kind to us, sir," she continued, "you have been preserver, protector, and friend, and it were strange if I did not feel an interest for your welfare." This she uttered so ingenuously, so frankly, that it seemed not in the least indelicate or forward, while it thrilled the young commander's heart. "Lady, since the moment you came on board, and I heard the tones of your voice, a strange interest sprang up in my heart, an indescribable one, and now that you express an interest in a poor wanderer's fate, you attach to it a value that he himself has never regarded it as possessing. But I read your suspicions, you have feared the worst--your looks have betrayed it, and you were ready to believe that I am a--" "Pirate!" almost groaned his companion, "You are not, pray say you are not." "Not so bad as that, lady." "But you are then--" "A slaver!" said the young commander, turning from her and moodily walking the deck; with a contracted brow and uneven step. CHAPTER VIII. THE QUADROON. FOR several days succeeding that upon which Captain Ratlin had avowed himself to his fair young companion to be engaged in the slave trade upon the coast of Africa, the "Sea Witch" was occupied in running in towards the land and exchanging signals with friends on shore, and then standing off and on to watch a favorable moment for running to an anchorage, without encountering one of the English or American cruisers stationed on the coast. During this time the young commander and his fair passenger found much time for conversation, and she strove with all that power of persuasion and delicacy of tact peculiar to her sex, to point out to the adventurous and generous-hearted commander the fearful responsibility of the course he was pursuing. Perhaps no other agent would have accomplished so much as she did--indeed, no other could for a moment have gained his ear, and the result even to herself was very apparent, very satisfactory. He, all unconsciously yielded every argument to her, was only too ready and willing to grant her the fullest accordance in what she asked or argued, for though he dared not to say so, yet he felt that already he loved the mild yet eloquent and lovely girl with a devotion that caused all other interests to fade in importance. It was a novel idea to him to realize that so fair and gentle a creature could entertain such sufficient interest in him, a rough sailor, to strive and mould his conduct for good. On her part, it would be difficult for us to define the exact state of feelings which actuated the beautiful girl whom we first introduced to the reader in India. She felt an interest in the commander of the slaver that she was afraid to acknowledge not only to her mother, but indeed to herself. The tones of his voice came over her heart like the memory of music that we have heard at some distant time, and in some forgotten place; his eyes betrayed to her the love he dared not speak, and when she did pause to consider their relation towards each other, she half shuddered, and said to herself, "Would to heaved this man was a poor mechanic, anything but a slaver! How can I give my confidence to him, and yet how can I withhold it, for he wins from me my very thoughts!" One evening just after sunset, Miss Huntington and her mother had been tarrying on the quarter deck for a long while, watching the conversation going on between the ship and the shore by means of flags, and observing that the "Sea Witch" had run in closer than usual, the mother asked: "Shall we not land before long, Captain Ratlin? We have been in the vicinity of the shore so long, that I begin to feel quite impatient." "To-night, madam, we shall be on shore. I cannot offer you very good quarters at first, but you shall find conveyance to Sierra Leone shortly, from whence you can sail for England." "We have to thank you for much kindness, sir," she continued, gratefully. "Nay, madam, necessity and duty to my owners has rendered it imperative for me to approach the coast cautiously, and hence a delay I could not avoid." "You are too honest and manly a spirit, sir," said the mother, frankly, "to be engaged in such a trade. Ah, sir, why not turn your talents to a more fitting purpose? The field of commerce is extensive, and such as you need not look for command." "Madam, your daughter has already caused me to behold my position in a very different light from what I did when I cleared my ship from the last port." "I rejoice, Captain Ratlin, to hear you say so," was the frank rejoinder of the mother, as she extended her hand to him, and which he pressed respectfully. "She is thus frank and open with me," reasoned the young commander to himself, "because she has no reason for restraint; but were I to tell her that I loved her child, that she was already so dear to me that I would relinquish all things for her, that face, so friendly in its expression now, would be suffused with disdain and scorn. No, no! such a fate is not in store for me; a sailor should know but one mistress, and she should be his ship. But the heart is a stubborn thing. I would not have believed that ouch a change could come over me." "Stand by to let go the starboard bow anchor," he shouted, as the vessel gradually crept shoreward with the oncoming of night, and, assumed the position in which he desired to place her. Her sails were gradually furled, and as she drew to her anchorage ground, a quarter-boat a was lowered from the davits, while the chain cable rang its loud report as it ran out at the hawser hole, and the ship swung gradually with the set of the current, leaving her stern towards the shore. But a few moments elapsed before Capt. Ratlin and his two passengers, with such articles as they had brought on board, were skimming over the short space between the ship and the shore, propelled by a half-dozen stout rowers. It had already been explained to them that at first it would be necessary to land them and offer them shelter at Don Leonardo's slave factory, until a mode of conveyance could be procured for them to reach Sierra Leone, so they were not surprised, but placing full confidence in Captain Ratlin, were satisfied. At the house of Don Leonardo, they were hospitably received, and found the proprietor to be a rough Spaniard, with a dark quadroon daughter, whose mulatto mother was dead. The household, though primitive, in many particulars, was yet profusely supplied with every necessity, and even many luxuries. In the rear of the house was a spacious barracoon, where the slaves were collected and kept for shipment, and where they were plentifully supplied with rice and vegetables, with salt meats, and the means of doing their own cooking. All these things the new corners noted at once, and indeed were very curious in fully understanding. There seemed to be little restraint exercised about the place; the slaves were looked at in the light of prisoners of war, and did not attempt escape. They seemed to be quite indifferent themselves as to their fate, and were very happy, with good food to eat, and a plenty of it. One thing that both Mrs. Huntington and her daughter marked well was the fact that Don Leonardo greeted Capt. Ratlin as one whom he had met before, and that Maud, his daughter, also sprang forward to meet him with unmistakable tokens of delight. On his part, both were cordially greeted, and they spoke together like people whose time was precious and whose business required despatch. Mrs. Huntington gathered enough from their open and undisguised talk to learn, that as there was not a sufficient number of negroes at the present moment on hand, that the "Sea Witch," with her light draft of water, must be run up a neighboring river and be there moored away from the prying eyes of the cruisers on the coast, until the proper hour should arrive for shipping her freight. Therefore when Captain Ratlin left them, it was with a promise to return and join them again within a few hours. He resolved to moor his vessel under the shelter of the present favoring darkness, to which end he at once repaired on board. The two English ladies, both mother and daughter, found much to interest them in Maud Leonardo. She seemed to be a strange girl, a rough diamond, with all the tact and ready invention of her mulatto mother, and all the fire of her Spanish father. They soon learned that this was not Captain Ratlin's first visit to the coast, and that her father, as well as herself, considered him the finest seaman and gentleman in the coast trade. It was impossible not to see with what feeling Maud the Quadroon dwelt upon the good qualities of him she referred to, declaring that he was a father to all the people he took away in his ship, and how kind he was to them; that he always knocked off their shackles at once and made friends of them by real kindness. Mrs. Huntington, to say nothing of her daughter, saw something more than mere honest admiration in the enthusiastic girl's remarks about the young commander, and the mother shrewdly determined to question her upon the theme, and to weigh well her answers. "Captain Ratlin is very friendly to you, I suppose, Maud?" said Mrs. Huntington. "He is friendly to father, and that is the same thing," she replied, simply. "Has he not brought you presents across the ocean?" continued the mother. "One," said Maud, with evident pleasure, rolling back a long sleeve, and discovering to her new-made friends a rich golden bracelet, set with pearls, a rare and beautiful ornament. "This is indeed beautiful," said the mother. Mrs. Huntington examined the jewel, while her daughter turned thoughtfully away! She could not be mistaken; she saw at once that this rude, uncultivated girl loved the commander of the "Sea Witch," nor did she wonder at such a fact; but yet she found herself musing and asking within her own mind whether such a being could make him happy as a wife. She felt that he was worthy of better companionship, and that, notwithstanding Maud evidently loved him, he could hardly entertain any peculiar regard for her. Could he have deceived the girl? she thought. No, deceit was no part of his nature; that she felt sure of, and thus she mused alone to herself, placing the relationship of the two in all manner of lights, until she saw him again. Having moored the "Sea Witch" safely amid the jungle of one of the many winding rivers that indent the coast of Africa, and sent down her upper spars to prevent her from being discovered by any exhibition of the top-hamper above the trees and jungle growth, Captain Ratlin left his crew under charge of the first officer, Mr. Faulkner, and returned once more to the seaboard and the establishment of Don Leonardo. Here it would be necessary for him to remain for a week or more, while the Spaniard sent his runners inland to the chiefs of the various coast tribes to forward the prisoners of war to his barracoons. This period of time was passed in various domestic amusements, in observing the sports and games of the natives, their habits, and studying their nationalities--for the slaves in Don Leonardo's barracoons represented a score of different tribes, each characteristic of its origin. Mrs. Huntington regarded Captain Ratlin's intercourse with Maud with much interest, which she did not attempt to disguise, while her daughter did so under the disguise of indifference, but with the most intense interest. Not a word, look, or sign between them betrayed the least token of any understanding or peculiar confidence as existing between the commander and the Quadroon. Maud, on her part, began to change somewhat since the first day of the arrival of the strangers. Then she was as free and unconstrained as innocence itself--now she seemed to regard the new-comers with a jealous eye, for she saw the deep feeling evinced by the young commander towards the fairest of the two; she heard a strange charm in the tone of his voice when he addressed the daughter, and at such moments Mrs. Huntington more than once saw her bosom heave quickly, and her eye flash with a wild and startling fire that made her tremble. This was jealousy, plain and unmistakable, a fact that no woman would have been at a loss to understand. It was not possible that the mother should be blind to the feeling evinced by Captain Ratlin towards her daughter, and she thought, so long as this sentiment maintained the respectful and solicitous character which it now bore, that it would redound to their security and future safety, as they were in one sense completely in his power. But as it regarded the idea of her daughter's entertaining any affection for him, or seriously considering his advances, the idea could not for a moment enter her head. She did not at ill consider that there was any danger of her daughter's losing her heart--no, no! Had not she been accustomed to attention from earliest girlhood, and from the most polished men? She did not even think it necessary to speak to her upon the subject; she might be as friendly as she pleased with him under the circumstances. But the daughter herself, who to her mother's eye was so indifferent, was at heart deeply and strangely impressed by the frank, chivalrous and devoted attention of the commander of the slaver. His attention was characterized by the most unquestioned delicacy and consideration; he had never uttered the first syllable to her that he might not properly have used before her mother--indeed, he had not the boldness or effrontery to urge a suit that he knew was out of the question, and yet he felt irresistibly drawn towards the English girl, and could not disguise from her the true sentiments that so plainly filled his inmost heart; she must have been less than woman not to have read his very soul, so bared to her scrutiny. It was the first time that she had ever deceived her mother, because it was the first time that she had loved. Yes, loved, for though she would as soon have sacrificed her life as to have acknowledged it, yet she did love him, and the poor untutored Quadroon girl read the fact that the mother could not, with all her cultivation and knowledge of the world, detect. But jealousy is an apt teacher, and the spirit of Maud Leonardo was now thoroughly aroused; she sighed for revenge, and puzzled her brain how she might gain the longed-for end. Captain Ratlin had eyes for only one object, and that was the young and beautiful English girl. He never gave a thought to Maud; he had never done so for one moment. As a friend of her father, or rather as a dealer intimately connected in a business point of view with him, he had given a present to his daughter, and had endeavored to make himself agreeable to her at all times, but never for one moment with a serious thought of any degree of intimacy, save of the most public and ordinary character. Probably Maud herself would have never thought seriously about the matter had she not felt how much the English girl surpassed her in beauty, in accomplishment, and in all that might attract the interest of one like Captain Ratlin. Jealousy is a subtle poison, and the Quadroon was feeding upon it greedily, while its baleful effect was daily becoming more and more manifest in her behaviour. CHAPTER IX. THE ATTACK. DON LEONARDO was no favorite among the tribes and chiefs of the region which was his immediate neighborhood, and he lived within the walls of his well-arranged residence, more like one in a fort than in his own domestic dwelling, maintaining himself, in fact, by a regular armament of his servants and a few countrymen whom he retained in his service. With the negroes he was, therefore, no friend, save so far as he purchased their prisoners of them, whom they secured in their marauding inroads upon the interior tribes. They feared Don Leonardo because he was a bold, bad man, and cared not for the spilling of blood at any time, for the furtherance of his immediate gain in the trade he pursued. It was for his interest to make them fear him, and this he contrived to do most effectually. As Don Leonardo always paid for the slaves he purchased of the coast tribes in hard Spanish dollars, they believed him to possess an inexhaustible supply of specie, and the idea of robbing him had more than once been broached among them in their counsels; but feat and want of tact as to proper management in conducting an assault, they felt would insure the defeat of such a purpose, and thus the Spaniard had remained unmolested for years in his present position, but in no way relaxing the necessary degree of vigilance which should render safe his household, for he knew full well the treacherous character of the negroes, and that they were not for a moment to be trusted. Maud, his daughter, was in no way ignorant of this state of affairs. She fully understood the entire matter. Perhaps the fact that some portion of the blood of that despised race ran in her own veins, led her to conceive a plan for revenge which should embrace not only the party who was the grave object of her hate, but even every person of white blood in her father's household, not even excepting her father! No one, save a North American Indian, can hold and nourish a spirit of revenge like a Quadroon. It seems to be an innate trait of their nature, and ever ready to burst forth in a blaze at any moment. It was impossible to understand exactly by what course of reasoning Maud had arrived at the purpose of attempting the destruction of the household as she did. One would have supposed that she would have been apt to adopt the easiest mode of arriving at the desired result, and that with even her simple knowledge of poison, she might, with a little adroitness, have taken the lives of all who were gathered under her father's roof at a single meal; but the revengeful girl evidently had some secret feeling to gratify, in the employment of the agents whom she engaged for her purpose, and the blow she resolved should be struck, and decisively, too, by the negro enemies of her father, who were his near neighbors. For this fell purpose, Maud held secret meetings with the chiefs, represented that her father's strong-boxes were full of gold and silver coin, and that the negroes had only to effect an entrance at night, means for which she was herself prepared to furnish them, and at the same time representing to them that they would have it in their power to revenge themselves for all their past wrongs at her father's hands, fancied or real. The negroes and their chiefs were only too intent upon the treasures their fancy depicted, to think or care for Maud herself, or to question the reason of her unnatural treachery. So they promised to enter the stockade under her direction, rob the house, and then screen the deed they had committed by burning the dwelling and all within its precincts. While this diabolical plan had been thoroughly concocted, Captain Ratlin and the two English ladies had passed many pleasant hours together, all unconscious of there being any danger at hand, and even Maud, with subtle treachery, seemed more open and free than she had been in her intercourse with them at first. But when she thought herself unobserved, she would at times permit a reflex of her soul to steal over her dark, handsome features, and the fire of passion to flash from her eye. At such moments, the Quadroon became completely unsexed, and could herself scarcely contain her own anger and passion so far as not to spring, tiger-like, upon the object of her hatred. But the hour for the attempt upon the dwelling, and the destruction of its inhabitants, drew near. The negroes had sworn to stand by each other, and had sacrificed an infant to their deity, to propitiate him and insure success. It was long past midnight that the blacks might have been seen pouring out of the adjacent jungle nearest to the house. They had selected the hour for their attack when they supposed the dwellers in the stockade-house would be soundest wrapped in sleep, and they had indeed chosen well, and all their plans had been carefully arranged. But just as Maud opened the secret entrance for them to pass in, and she herself passed out, to flee for the time being from the scene, Don Leonardo came out from his sleeping-apartment, followed by a trusty slave, and promptly shot down the two first figures that entered by the door, causing them to fall dead. This unexpected repulse caused those behind to retreat for a while to the jungle, where they might consult under cover as to what this unexpected opposition to their plans indicated. The reader may as well be here informed that a faithful slave, who had been long with the Spanish trader, and who had been confided in by the robbers, at last could not keep the secret, but just at the opportune moment aroused her master, while he, by his promptness, for the moment stayed the attack, until the door could once more be fastened, and the people awakened and armed to repel the congregated mass of the enemy. The father did not for one moment suspect his child's treachery, and was amazed and alarmed by her absence; but there was little time for speculations upon that or any other matter, since the large numbers of the negroes had rendered them bold, and they seemed determined, now they were partially foiled in their purpose as to entering the place by stratagem, to carry the house, at all hazards, by actual storm, while they rendered the air heavy with their yells. Don Leonardo was not at all alarmed--he had fought too many battles with the negroes to fear them. He quietly prepared his fire-arms, and loaded to the muzzle a heavy swivel-gun he kept mounted at one of the main windows, while he gave arms to such of his slaves as he felt confidence in, and to his immediate retainers. The negroes had never seen nor heard the swivel fired, as it was a late importation. They had become somewhat accustomed to small arms, and though they had a dread of them, yet it was not sufficient to deter them from making the attack after having congregated in such numbers, and having become so wrought up by each other. But as they made a rush bodily towards the stockade, Don Leonardo fired the swivel, which had been loaded with shot, slugs, and bullets, into their very midst, every missile telling on the limb or body of one or more! The effect was electrical and the slaughter large. The astonished savages rapidly gathered up their wounded companions and returned to the jungle once more. At first this terrible slaughter among them seemed to deter them from the idea of a second attack, but the loud report of the gun rapidly augmented the numbers of the blacks, until they made a second onslaught, with almost precisely the same effect. They could scale the stockade only on this side, while on the other, or opposite side, Captain Ratlin kept up such a deadly and accurate fire of musketry, that every one who approached the buildings was sure to forfeit his life. It was fortunate that this arrangement had been made, for the negroes twice attempted to set the dwellings on fire from the rear, but were instantly repulsed by Captain Ratlin's double-barrelled gun, which was ready loaded by his side, and which he used with fearful accuracy of aim on every approaching object. The negroes seemed to be wrought up to such a state of excitement that they would not give over their purpose, though it involved such immense risk and sacrifice of life, and the attack was continued, at intervals, far into the morning, and long after the regular course of duty, until at last the negroes divided their mutilated numbers into four parties, and it was evidently their last and most determined attempt. They did not hurry this, but seemed to pause and take refreshments and rest for a couple of hours, when once more the onslaught commenced, and the inhabitants of the stockade found it a desperate fight, and one even of doubtful result, if long continued as it began. "Keep the black imps clear, don, for a short half-hour longer, and it will be all up with them," shouted Captain Ratlin, from the rear. "I see a heavy square-rig rounding the point and standing in for an anchorage; we shall find civilized help." "That is lucky," growled the Spaniard, as he coolly shot down a negro; "our powder is fast giving out." The inhabitants of the stockade sadly needed assistance at this critical juncture, for the infuriated savages had become desperate and reckless in their attack, and must soon have carried the building by storm. But there soon pulled to the beach a half-dozen boats, with a detachment of marines and seamen, led on at full speed by an officer, before whose approach the angry negroes retired exhausted, leaving many dead upon the ground, and many too severely wounded to effect their retreat to the jungle. The fight had been a very sanguinary one to the half witted creatures outside the stockade. The new comers were an officer and part of the crew of a man-of-war that was cruising upon the coast, and which had been attracted to the harbor by the firing of the heavy swivel. They were admitted within the stockade. That they were English was at once observable, by the flag that floated from the graceful craft that had now rounded to and come to an anchor within blank cartridge shot of the factory or barracoons. The officer felt authorized to interfere, as we have seen, but his power of search and of interference in the peculiar trade of the coast ceased the moment he touched the land. His jurisdiction did not extend over any residents on their property, unless it was afloat; over the coast and rivers he claimed jurisdiction only. The new comers were hospitably entertained by Don Leonardo, white the officer who had led them, and whose insignia of rank betrayed his station as captain, was introduced into the more private apartments of the place, where were the ladies and Captain Ratlin, the latter trying to re-assure them, and to quiet their fears on account of the late fearful business of the fight. He was thus engaged when the English captain entered, and was not a little astonished to hear the mutual expressions of surprise that were uttered by both the ladies and the officer himself, while a moment sufficed to show them to be old acquaintances! The reader would here recognize, in the new comer, Captain Robert Bramble, whom we saw paying suit to Miss Huntington, not long previous, on the shady verandah of her mother's house, in the environs of Calcutta. Notwithstanding the excitement of the moment, and the joy felt on all sides at the timely arrival of the English officer and his people,--notwithstanding the surprise of the moment, that filled all present at the singular melting of old friends under such extraordinary circumstances, yet a close observer might have noticed an ill-suppressed expression of dissatisfaction upon Captain Ratlin's face, as he saw the English captain in friendly and even familiar intercourse with mother and daughter. "Who could have possibly foreseen this strange, this opportune meeting?" said the mother. "It is as strange as agreeable, I assure you," replied the new comer. "And you were wrecked and picked up at sea, you say, and brought here by--" "Captain Ratlin," interrupted the daughter, fearing that her mother would have introduced a word that would have betrayed their protector. "Yes, by Captain Ratlin," continued the mother, "permit me to introduce you, gentlemen. Captain Bramble, this is Captain Ratlin; you are both seamen, and there is no need of compliments, though I am seriously indebted to you both." "Of the merchant service, I presume?" said the English officer, regarding the young and handsome commander of the "Sea Witch" with a somewhat suspicious eye. "From childhood," was the cool reply, while, as though by a feeling of common content, both turned away from each other, to other objects. Captain Bramble saw that she whom he had so profitlessly saved,--she whose smile would have been invaluable to him, now spoke low and gently to the merchant captain; and even smiled kindly upon his remarks to her, of whatever nature they might be. Doubtless, from the moment of their introduction, a vague suspicion of his true character crossed the English officer's thoughts, but now he needed no other incentive, than the fact that Miss Huntington received and entertained his addresses so agreeably, and with such evident pleasure, to make him more than watchful, and resolved to find out the truth. "You are not long arrived, Captain Ratlin?" asked the other. "Within these two weeks," was the calm reply. "Not seeing your vessel, I presume she has gone to the windward, for ivory." "Or perhaps to leeward for other cargo," answered the other, somewhat haughtily. The hint was sufficient, and the English officer saw that, let his trade be what it might, he had one to deal with who was master of his own business, and who feared no one. It was nearly night when Maud Leonardo reappeared, expressing profound surprise at what had occurred, and feigning well-assumed grief and regret, so honestly, too, as to deceive all parties who observed her. But her secret chagrin could hardly be expressed. Indeed, her father, who knew her better than any one else, saw that there was something wrong in his daughter's spirit, that some event had seriously annoyed and moved her. He knew the child possessed of much of her mother's wild, revengeful disposition, and though even he never for a moment suspected her unnatural treachery, yet he resolved to watch her. The negroes she had joined in the attack were completely routed and disheartened, and fearing the power and cunning of Don Leonardo, retreated far inland and incorporated themselves with the tribes that gather their wild and precarious living in the depths of the jungle. CHAPTER X. THE DUEL. AFFAIRS in the immediate vicinity of Don Leonardo's residence began to assume a singular and very peculiar aspect. In the first place, there was within doors, and under his immediate roof, four new comers, nearly each of which was actuated by some contrary purpose or design. Mrs. Huntington was exceedingly desirous to obtain passage up the coast to Sierra Leone, and thence home to England; her daughter secretly dreaded the approach of the hour that was to separate her from one whom in her unrevealed heart she devotedly loved. Captain Ratlin was, of course, all impatience to have the English cruiser up anchor and leave the harbor, her proximity to his own fleet clipper ship being altogether too close, while, Captain Bramble felt in no haste to leave port for several reasons. First, he had a suspicion that he should soon be able to trip up the heels of his rival, as it regarded this business on the coast; and secondly, he was very content to have Miss Huntington remain here, because he knew if she was once landed at Sierra Leone, she would directly sail for England. Don Leonardo heartily wished them all at the bottom of the sea, or any other place except his house, with the exception, of course, of Captain Ratlin, whose business with him was seriously impeded by the presence of these parties. Maud, too, was not a disinterested party, as the reader may well imagine, after the audacious treachery which she had already evinced; but she was comparatively passive now, and seemed quietly to bide her time for accomplishing her second resolve touching him she once loved but now hated, as well as satisfying her revengeful spirit by the misery or destruction of her rival. We say affairs in Don Leonardo's residence had assumed a singular and peculiar aspect, and the dull routine of everyday life that had characterized the last year was totally changed. The singular coincidence of the meeting between Miss Huntington and her rejected lover, Captain Bramble, under such singular circumstances, led him once more to press this suit, and now, as she regarded him largely in the light of a protector, the widow quite approved of his intimacy, and indeed, as far as propriety would permit, seconded his suit with her daughter. When in India, she had looked most favorably upon Captain Bramble's intimacy with her child, where there were accessory circumstances to further her claims; but now she soon told her daughter in private, that Captain Bramble was a match fit and proper in all respects for such as she was. "But, mother--" "Well, my child?" "Suppose, for instance, that I do not like Captain Bramble, then is he a fitting match for me?" "Not like him, my child?" "Yes, mother, not like him." "Why, is he not gentlemanly?" "Yes." "And of good family?" "Undoubtedly." "And handsome, and--" "Hold, mother, you need not extend the catalogue. Captain Bramble can never be my husband," she said, in a mild but determined tone that her mother understood very well. But Captain Bramble himself could not seem to understand this, notwithstanding she was perfectly frank and open with him. He seemed to be running away with the idea that if he could but get rid of Captain Ratlin, in some way, he should then have a clear field, and be able to win her hand under the peculiar circumstances surrounding her. Thus moved, he redoubled his watchfulness touching the captain's movements, satisfied that he should be able ere long to detect him in some intrigue, as to running a cargo of slaves, and doubtless under such circumstances that he could arrest and detain him, if not, by some lucky chance, even have him tried and adjudged upon by the English commission upon the coast. To suppose that Captain Ratlin did not understand entirely the motives and conduct of his enemy and would-be rival, would be to give him less credit for discernment than he deserved. He understood the matter very well, and, indeed, bore with assumed patience, for Miss Huntington's sake, many impertinences that he would otherwise have instantly asserted. But he marked out for himself a course, and he resolved to adhere to it. Captain Bramble was not only a suitor of Miss Huntington's, but an old and intimate friend, as he learned from her family, and therefore he should avoid all quarrel whatever with him, and so he did on his own part; but the English officer, enraged by his apparent success, took every occasion to disparage the character of Captain Ratlin, and even before Miss Huntington's own face, declared him no gentleman. "You are very severe, Captain Bramble," said the lady, "upon a person whom you acknowledge you have not yet known a single calendar month." "It is long enough, quite long enough, Miss Huntington, to read the character of such an unprincipled fellow as this nondescript captain." "I have known him about twice as long as you, Captain Bramble," replied Miss Huntington, calmly, "and I have not only formed a very different opinion of him, but have good reasons to feel satisfied of the correctness of my judgment." "I perceive that Miss Huntington has taken him under her protection," replied the discomfited officer, sarcastically, as he seized his hat and left her. While in this spirit, the two rivals met in the open space before the hose of Don Leonardo, when the English officer vented some coarse and scurrillous remarks upon Captain Ratlin, whose eyes flashed fire, and who seized his traducer by the throat and bent him nearly double to the earth, with an ease that showed his superior physical strength to be immense, but as though impressed with some returning sense, Captain Ratlin released his grasp and said: "Rise, sir, you are safe from my hand; but fortunate it is for you that you can call this lady whose name you have just referred to, friend; the man whom she honors by her countenance is safe from any injury I can inflict." "A very chivalric speech," replied the enraged and brow-beaten officer. "But you shall answer for this, sir, and at once. This is not the spot--you must give me satisfaction for this base insult, or by the heaven above us I will shoot you like a dog!" "As you will, sir. I have spoken openly, and I shall abide by my word. I am no boaster, nor do I expect any especial favor at the hands of the lady whom you have named; but I repeat, sir, that my respect for her renders her friend safe from any injury that I might otherwise, in just indignation, inflict." Little did either know that the object of their remarks had been a silent but trembling witness of the entire scene, from the first taunting word Captain Bramble had spoken. Early the subsequent morning, even before the sun had risen, a boat might have been seen pulling from the side of the English sloop-of-war, propelled by the stout arms of a couple of seamen, while two persons sat in the stern, a closer examination of whom would have revealed them to be the captain of the ship and surgeon. At the same moment there shot out from a little nook or bay in the rear of the barracoons, a light skiff propelled by a single oarsman, who rowed his bark in true seamen style, cross-handed, while a second party sat in the stern. The rower was Captain Ratlin, and his companion was the swarthy and fierce-looking Don Leonardo. That the same purpose guided the course of either boat was apparent from the fact that both were headed for the same jutting point of land that formed a sort of cape on the harbor's southern side. "That is the fellow, he who pulls the oars," said Captain Bramble to his surgeon. "He must be a vulgar chap, and pulls those instruments as though bred to the business." "Not so very vulgar, either," said the other; "the fellow has seen the world and has his notions of honor, and knows how to behave, that is plain enough." "Egad, he shoots that skiff ahead like an arrow; the fellow could make his fortune as a ferryman," continued the surgeon, facetiously. "Give way, lads, give way," said the English captain, impatiently, to his men, as he saw that the skiff would reach the point long before he got there himself. A short half-hour found the two rivals standing opposite to each other at some twelve paces distance, each with a pistol in his hand. The preliminaries had been duly arranged between the surgeon and Don Leonardo, the latter of whom had not ceased up to the last moment to strive and effect a reconciliation. Not that he dreaded bloodshed, it was a pastime to him, but because it jarred so manifestly with his interests to have his friend run the risk of his life. Both of the principals were silent. Captain Bramble was exceedingly red in the face, and evidently felt the bitterness of anger still keenly upon him; while the open, manly features of his opponent wore the same placid aspect as had characterized them while he leaned over the side of his own ship, or gazed idly into the rippling waters that laved the dark hull. It had been arranged that both parties should aim and fire between the commencement and end of pronouncing the words, "one, two, three," by the surgeon; and that individual, having placed his box of instrument with professional coolness upon the ground, took his position to give the signal agreed upon, when he said, in a preparatory tone: "Gentlemen, are you ready?" To which both answered by an inclination of the head, and then immediately followed: "One, two, three!" Almost before the first word was fairly articulated, the sharp quick report of Captain Bramble's pistol was heard, and the next moment he was observed gazing intently upon his adversary, to see whether he had wounded him, and observing that he had not, he dashed his weapon to the ground, uttering a fierce oath at his luck. In the meantime Captain Ratlin had not moved an inch, not even a muscle; his hand containing the pistol had hung quietly at his side, and his face still remained undisturbed. He had kept his word, and would not fire upon the friend of the woman whom he truly respected, and earnestly, devotedly, though hopelessly loved. Captain Bramble paced back and forth like a caged lion, until at last, coming opposite and near to his adversary, he coarsely remarked: "It is much easier for a trembling hand to retain a perpendicular position than to assume a horizontal one!" Captain Ratlin understood the taunt, and stepping to where the English officer had thrown his discharged weapon, he threw it high in the air, and at the exact moment when the power of gravitation turned the piece towards the earth, he quickly raised his arm and fired, sending the bullet in his own pistol completely through the wooden stock of the other. Then turning coolly to Captain Bramble, he said: "A trembling hand, sir, is hardly so sure of its aim as that." "This fellow is the evil one himself," whispered the surgeon to his principal. "Come, let us on board, if he should insist upon at second shot, we should be obliged to give him the chance, since he did not fire at you, and he would drop you spite of fate." "Curse his luck; I am sure I had him full in the breast--such a miss, and I, who am so sure at a dozen paces;" and the English officer continued to chafe and growl until he had got into his boat, and was out of hearing from the shore. Captain Ratlin and Don Leonardo quietly pulled back towards the barracoons, and as they neared the shore they saw the form of a female, which both at once recognized to be that of Miss Huntington, who stood there pale as death, and who gazed intently at the young commander as he drew nearer and nearer, and as he jumped upon the shore, said, hastily: "You have been on a fearful errand. Have either of you been hurt?" "Nay, lady, it was but a bit of morning sport," said Captain Ratlin, pleasantly. "Answer me, was he injured, for I see you are not?" "There has been no harm done to flesh and blood, lady." "Heaven be praised!" said the half-fainting girl, as she leaned upon the young commander's proffered arm, and they together approached the house of Don Leonardo. There had been another witness of the affair, one who was secreted on the very spot where the meeting took place, one who had overheard the arrangements for the same, and one who had secretly repaired thither with hopes to have seen the blood of one, if not both, flow, even unto death. And this was Maud, poor deluded, revengeful girl, who had permitted one passion to fill her every thought, and who now lived and dreamed only for revenge upon one who was as innocent of any intended slight or wrong to her as he was to the being he really loved. Maud, with the fleetness of an antelope, had ran by the land-path from the spot of the contest, and reached home nearly as quick as the boat containing her father and Captain Ratlin had done, and now, as she saw her hated white rival leaning upon his arm, so pale, so confiding, and he addressing her with such tender assurance, a fresh wound to her already rankled and goaded feelings was imparted, and once more she swore a fearful and quick revenge. Captain Bramble, too much chagrined to make his appearance, at least for a few days, did not soon land from his vessel, but mused alone in the solitude of his cabin upon the obduracy of Miss Huntington's heart, and the good luck which had saved his rival's life. CHAPTER XI. THE HUES OF LOVE. CAPTAIN BRAMBLE did not long remain contented on board his ship. This he could not do while he realized that Miss Huntington was so near upon the shore; for, so far as such a being could really love, he did love the lady; and yet his sentiment of regard was so mixed up with selfishness and bitterness of spirit, and pride at being refused, that the small germ of real affection which had found birth in his bosom was too much corroded with alloy to be identified. He felt that he had been overreached by Captain Ratlin, and also that he had good grounds of suspecting his successful rival of being either directly or indirectly engaged in the illegal trade of the coast, and, determined, if possible, to discover his secret, he again became a frequent visitor of Don Leonardo's house, where he was sure to meet him constantly. There were two spirits whom we have introduced to the reader in this connection, who were fitting companions for each other; but they had not as yet been brought together by any chance so as to understand one another. We refer to Captain Bramble and Maud the Quadroon. Both now hated Captain Ratlin, and would gladly have been revenged in any way for the gratification of their feelings upon her whom he so fondly loved. With this similarity of sentiment it was not singular that they should ere long discover themselves and feelings to each other. Indeed Maud, who had been a secret witness of the deed, already realized that Captain Bramble was the enemy of him whom she had once loved, and whom she now so bitterly despised. Untutored in the ways of the world and fashionable intrigue, yet the Quadroon saw very clearly that through Captain Bramble she might consummate that revenge which she had so signally failed in doing by the agency of the hostile negro tribes she had treacherously brought to her father's doors. He had not been long at the factory, therefore, on landing after the duel, before Maud sought a private interview with him, on pretext of communicating to him some information that should be of value to him in connection with his official duty. To this, of course, the English officer responded at once, shrewdly suspecting at least a portion of the truth, and he therefore met Maud at an appointed spot in the jungle hard by her father's house. "You will speak truly in what you tell me, my good girl?" he said sagaciously, as he looked into her dark spirited eyes with admiration he could not avoid. "Have I anything to gain by a lie?" responded Maud, with a curling lip. "No, I presume not," he answered. "I merely ask from ordinary precaution. But what do you propose to reveal to me? Something touching this Captain Ratlin?" "Ay," said the girl quickly. "It is of him I would speak. You are an English officer, agent of your government, and sent here to suppress this vile traffic?" "True." "And have you suspected nothing since your vessel has been here?" "I suspect that this Captain Ratlin is in some way connected with the trade." "He is, and but now awaits the gathering of a cargo in my father's barracoons, to sail with them to the West Indies. It is not his first voyage, either." "But where is his vessel? he cannot go to sea without one," said the Englishman. "That is what I would reveal to you. I will discover to you his ship if you swear to arrest him, seize the vessel, and if possible hang him!" "You are bitter indeed," said the officer, almost startled at the fiendish expression of the Quadroon's countenance as she emphasized those two expressive words. "I have reason to be," answered Maud, calming her feelings by an effort. "Has he wronged you?" "Yes, he loves the white woman whom he brought to my father's house." "Thus far, at all events, my good girl, we have mutual cause for hate, and we will work heartily together. You know where his vessel lies?" "I do." "Is it far from here?" "Less than a league." "Indeed! These fellows are cunning," mused the officer. "When will you guide me and a party of my people thither?" "To-night." "It is well. I will be prepared. Where shall we meet?" "At the end of the cape, where you and he met a few days since." "Where we met?" asked the other, in surprise. "How knew you of that?" "I saw it." "The duel?" "Yes." "It is strange. I thought none but ourselves were to be there." "He has moved in no direction since this woman has been here that I have not followed. There I hoped to see him fall; but he was strangely preserved." "You are a singular girl, Maud," replied the officer. "Take this and wear it for my sake," he added, unloosing a fine gold chain from his watch and tossing it around her neck, "and be punctual at that spot to-night after the last ray of twilight." "I will," answered the Quadroon, as she regarded the fine workmanship of the chain for a moment with idle and childlike pleasure, then turning from the spot, they both returned, though by different paths, from the jungle towards the dwelling of her father. Captain Bramble dined with Don Leonardo that day, and his good spirits and pleasant converse were afterwards the subject of comment, exhibiting him in a fair more favorable light than he had appeared in since his arrival at the factory. Maud, too, either for sake of disguise, or because the knowledge of her plan imparted exhilaration of spirits to her, was more agreeable, seemingly frank and friendly than she had been for many a long day, if we except the day before the late attack of the negroes upon the house, when the same treacherous assumption of cheerfulness and satisfaction with all parties was similarly assumed. Captain Ratlin, on his part, was ever the same; he found that he must wait some weeks even yet before he could prosecute the purpose of his voyage, and indeed he seemed to have lost all interest in it. His thoughts were full of too pure an object to permit him to participate to any extent in so questionable a business. Gladly would he at any moment have thrown up his charge of the "Sea Witch;" and he had indeed promised Miss Huntington that for her sake, and in honor of her friendship (for he had never aspired to any more intimate relationship), he would ignore the trade altogether, and that he would despatch Mr. Faulkner, his first officer, to the owners in Cuba with the ship he had himself taken in charge. Having been brought up from childhood upon the sea, he had never studied the morality of the trade in which he was now engaged. But the nice sense of honor which was so strong a characteristic of his nature, only required the gentle influence of a sweet and refined nature like her with whom providence had so opportunely thrown him, to reform him altogether of those rougher ideas which he had naturally imbibed in the course of his perilous and daring profession. In the presence of that fair and pure-minded girl he was as a child, impressible, and ready to follow her simplest instructions. All this betokened a native refinement of soul, else he could never have evinced the pliability which had rendered him so pleasant and agreeable a companion to her he secretly loved. "Lady," he said to her as they sat together that afternoon, "Heaven has sent you for a guardian angel to me; your refining influence has come to my heart at its most lonely, its most necessary moment. I have done with this trade, never more to engage in it." "That is honorable, noble in you, Captain Ratlin, so promptly to relinquish all connection with a calling, which though it affords fortune and command, can never permit you self-respect." "The ship will probably be despatched within these two weeks, and then I will take any birth in legitimate commerce, where I may win an honorable name and reputation." "There is my hand on so honorable a resolution," said Miss huntington, frankly, while a single tear of pleasure trembled in her clear, lustrous eyes. The young commander took the hand respectfully that waits extended to him, but when he raised his eyes to her face and detected that tear, a thought for a moment ran through his brain, a faint shadow of hope that perhaps she loved him, or might at some future time do so, and bending over the fair hand he held he pressed it gently to his lips. He was not repulsed, nor chided, but she delicately rose and turned to her mother's apartment. How small a things will affect the whole tenor of a life time; trifles lighter than straws are levers in the building up of destiny. Captain Ratlin turned from that brief interview with a feeling he had never before experienced. The idea that Miss Huntington really cared for him beyond the ordinary interest, that the circumstances of their acquaintances had caused, had not thus far been entertained by him; had this been otherwise he would doubtless have differently interpreted many agreeable tokens which she had granted him, and to which his mind now went back eagerly to recall and consider under the new phase of feeling which actuated him. How else could he interpret that tear but as springing from a heart that was full of kindly feeling towards him. It was a tell-tale drop of crystal that glistened but one moment there. Could it have been fancy? was it possible he could have been mistaken? The matter assumed an aspect of intense importance it his estimation, and he paced the apartment where she had left him alone, half in doubt, half hoping. In one instant how different an aspect all things wore; life, its aims, the persons he met at the door as he now passed out. Even the foliage seemed to partake of the freshness of his spirit, and the world to become rejuvenated and beautified in every aspect in which he could view it. This was the bright tide of the picture which his imagination, aided by that gaudy painter and fancy colorer, Hope, had conjured up before his mind's eye, but the reverse side of the picture was at hand, and now he paused to ask himself seriously: "Can this be? Who am I? a poor unknown sailor, fortuneless, friendless, nameless. Who is she? a lady of refined cultivation, high family, wealth, and beauty. Is it likely that two such persons as I have considered should be joined by intimate friendship? can such barriers as these be broken down by love? Alas, I am not so blind, so foolish, so unreasonable, as to believe it for a moment." So once more the heart of the young commander was heavy within his breast. In the mean time Captain Bramble had found an opportunity that afternoon to see Maud, and to learn from her that Captain Ratlin almost always slept on board his ship, departing soon after dark for the spot through the jungle. Satisfied of this, Capt. Bramble once more proceeded to make his arrangements, for to have seized the vessel without her commander on board would have been to perform but half the business he had laid out for the night's engagement. But all seemed now propitious, and he awaited the darkness with impatience, when he might disembark a couple of boat loads of sailors and marines, and with the Quadroon for guide follow the path through the jungle to where the "Sea Witch" lay. "Why do you muse so long and lonely, my child?" asked Mr. Huntington of her daughter that afternoon, as she came in and surprised her gazing out at a window vacantly. "O, I hardly know, dear mother. I was thinking over our strange fortune since we left Calcutta, the wreck, the nights in the boat, and our fortunate rescue." "Fortunate, my dear? I don't exactly know about that. Here we have been confined at this slave factory, little better than the slaves themselves, these four weeks." "Well, mother, Captain Bramble says he shall sail soon, and then we can go round to Sierra Leone, and from thence take passage direct for England." "For my part I can't understand why Capt. Bramble insists upon staying here so long. He don't seem to be doing anything, and he came into the harbor by chance." "He says that business and duty, which he cannot explain, detain him here, but that he will soon leave, of which he will give us due notice." "Heaven hasten the period!" said the mother, impatiently; "for I am most heartily tired and worn out with the strange life we lead here." This conversation will explain to the reader in part, the reason why Mrs. Huntington and her daughter, English subjects and in distress upon the coast, had not at once gone on board the vessel of their sovereign which lay in the harbor, and been carried upon their destination. From the outset Captain Bramble had resolved not to let his rival slip through his fingers by leaving port himself, and thus he had still remained to the present time, though without any definite plan of operation formed until he availed himself of Maud's proposal. "Why, bless me, my child, you look as though you had been crying," said the mother, now, catching a glance at her daughter's face. "Do I, mother?" she answered, vacantly. This was just after she had returned from the meeting with Captain Ratlin as already described, and whether, she had been crying or not, the reader will probably know what feelings moved her heart. CHAPTER XII. THE CONFLICT. CAPTAIN BRAMBLE knew very well that he had desperate men to deal with in the taking of a slaver on the coast, but he had gathered his evidence and witnesses in such a strong array that he felt warranted in going to any length in securing possession of a clipper craft which had been so fully described to him. He was not wanting in personal courage, and therefore, with a well-selected body of sailors and marines, and one or two officers, he quietly pulled away from the ship's side, under cover of the night, and landed at the proposed spot. Here he found Maud patiently awaiting his coming, and ready to lead him to the hiding-place of the "Sea Witch" and her crew. The men were all well armed, and instructed how to act in any possible emergency that was to be met with in the business which brought them on shore. On the whole body pressed in silence, through a tangled and narrow path, being more than once startled by the growl of some wild animal, whose haunts they disturbed. It was weary struggling by this path through the wood, but it was the only way to approach the desired point by land. Maud hesitated not, but stole or glided through the tangled undergrowth, as though she had passed her whole life-time in the deep, tangled ways of the jungle. As they went on, the moon gradually rose and lifted up the dark path by little gleamings which stole in through the thick leaves and close-turning branches of the lofty vegetation. On, on they press; and now they pause at a sign from Maud, and listen to the sound of voices, which have a strange and echo-like sound in that wild and tangled spot. Hark! those voices are not from the tongues of natives; that is English which they speak. "Hist! hist!" whispered the Quadroon, "we are almost upon them!" "In which direction?" asked the English officer. "Here, see you not those bright, silver-like scales through the leaves?" "Yes." "That is the river's bed, and they lie on board their craft, moored close to us." "How many do they number?" "I know not." "It is not important," continued the Englishman, turning to his followers, and in a low voice bidding them look to their weapons, for the game was near at hand. A few more steps brought the party to the skirts of the thicket, where it bordered on a small clearing, opening upon the river, and looking across which--while they were themselves screened by the jungle--they discovered the dark hull of the "Sea Witch," with her lower masts and their standing rigging. The vessel was moored close to the shore, with which a portable gangway connected it. Shallow as the water was, yet so light was her draft that she evidently floated upon its sluggish current. Voices were heard issuing from the fore hatch, and two or three petty officers were seated about the entrance to the cabin, smoking cigars and pipes, all unconscious of any danger. "There is your prey! Spring upon it, and be quick, for they will fight like mad, and he will lay a dozen of you by the heels before you take the 'Sea Witch!'" said Maud. Captain Bramble rushed forward to the attack, followed by his men, and was soon on the deck of the vessel; but though he took Mr. Faulkner and his crew by surprise, he did not find them entirely unprepared, and after dropping eight of his people upon the slaver's deck, and being himself, severely wounded in the arm, Captain Bramble thought it best to beat a retreat, at least for a few moments, and so sought again the shelter of the jungle. The conflict, which was very brief, was also a very sanguinary, and five of the slaver's people had been either mortally wounded or killed outright; but from the habit of constantly wearing their arms, even to pistols, when on the coast, they had been found in a very good situation at even the shortest notice for defending themselves. Captain Bramble now saw evident tokens of a purpose to unmoor the vessel, and let her drift out into the river, which would at once place her beyond his reach, as he had no boats within a league of the spot; and therefore he resolved upon a second onslaught, and this time divided his men into three parts--one to board at the bows, one at the stern, and himself leading a dozen picked men at the waist. This division of his forces was the best manouvre he could possibly make, and succeeded admirably, since his own people outnumbered the slavers, and by dividing them he strengthened his own power and weakened theirs. Once more upon their deck, the hand-to-hand battle was short, bloody and decisive, until towards its close, Captain Bramble found himself driven into the forecastle with a number of his followers, and at the same moment saw the mate of the "Sea Witch," with those of his people that were left alive hastening to embark in a quarterboat, and pull away from the vessel's side with great speed. A sort of instinct explained to him the meaning of this, and hurrying his people on shore with the wounded, they sought the shelter of the jungle once more. Scarcely had they gained the shade of the thick undergrowth, when a report like that of a score of cannons rang upon the night air, and high in the air soared a body of flame and wreck in terrific confusion. The slavers had placed a slow match in connection with the magazine, and had blown in one instant of time that entire and beautiful fabric into ten thousand atoms! Even Maud, with all her hatred and passion, quailed at the shock, and trembled as she crouched to the ground with averted face. She realized the result of her treachery, but looked in vain for the object on whom she had hoped to reck the strength of her indignation and her hate. Where was he? This was a question that Captain Bramble had several times asked; but in vain, until now, when suddenly there appeared before their eves, hastening towards the scene, Captain Will Ratlin. "Seize him, my men! seize him, and bind his arms!--he is our prisoner," said the English officer. "By what authority do you give such an order as that, Captain Bramble?" asked the young commander. "In the queen's name, sir; in the name of the English people, who abhor pirates and slavers!" was the taunting reply of the Englishman. "Stand back!" said Captain Ratlin, felling two seamen to the earth who approached him to lay hands upon his person, and at the same time drawing a revolver from his pocket. "Stand back, I say! I carry the lives of six of you in this weapon, and I am not one to miss my aim, as your valiant leader yonder well knows.--Now, Captain Bramble, I will surrender to you, provided you accede to my terms, otherwise you cannot take me alive!" "Well, sir, what have you to offer?" said the English officer, positively quailing before the stern and manly front of the young commander. "That you accept my word of honor to obey your directions as a prisoner, but that you shall not bind my arms or confine me otherwise." "Have your own way," replied the Englishman, doggedly; "but give up your weapons." "Do you promise me this, Captain Bramble?" "I do." "It is well, sir; there goes my weapon;" saying which he hurled it far into the river's bed. As soon as Maud saw him, she sprang to her feet, and with all the bitterness of expression which her countenance was capable of, she scowled upon his upright figure and handsome features. It was evident she felt a bitter disappointment at his absence from the late affray, and would only have rejoiced had she believed he was blown to atoms with his vessel by the wild explosion which had so lately shaken the very earth upon which she now stood. It was plain that up to this very moment, however, that the young commander had never suspected her of treachery, or even jealousy, towards himself; but now, he would have been worse than blind not to have seen and realized, also, the deep malignant feeling which was written on her dark, but handsome face. "Maud," he said, in a low, but reproachful tone, "is it you who have betrayed us?" "Ay," said the girl, quickly, and with a shrill cadence of voice, "a double heart should be dealt doubly with. It was I who led these people hither, and I hoped the fate of so many of your ship's company might have been yours!--but you are a prisoner now, and there's hope yet!" "Maud, Maud! have I ever wronged you or your father?" asked Captain Ratlin, reproachfully. "Do you not love that white-faced girl you brought hither?" "And if I did, Maud, what wrong is that to thee? Did I promise thee love?" "Nay; I asked it not of you," said the angry girl. "But you have done me a great wrong, Maud; one that you do not yourself understand. I forgive you though, poor girl; you are hardly to blame." These kindly-intended words only aggravated the object to whom they were addressed, and she turned away hastily to the shade of the thick vegetable growth, where he lost sight of her figure among the branches and leaves, while he walked on with the English officer and his people over the ground they had just passed, towards Don Leonardo's. There being now no further cause for secrecy, they marched openly, and enlivened the way with many a rude jest, which grated harshly upon the ears of the wounded, who were borne upon litters made from branches of the hard, dry leaves of the palm. As they came upon the open spot where stand the barracoons and Don Leonardo's dwelling, they found the entire family aroused and on the watch, the heavy explosion of the "Sea Witch's" magazine having seemed to them like an earthquake. Don Leonardo, who shrewdly suspected the truth, seemed satisfied at a single glance as to the state of affairs, and walking up to the young commander, and watching for a favorable opportunity, when not overheard, he asked, significantly: "Treachery?" "Yes." "Whom?" "It matters not," was the magnanimous reply; for Captain Ratlin was too generous to betray the Quadroon to her father, though she had proved thus treacherous to him. As he now recognized himself to be a prisoner, and had been told by Captain Bramble that he must go forthwith on board his ship as such, he desired to say a few words to Mrs. Huntington and her daughter, a request which his rival could hardly find grounds for refusing, and so he took occasion to explain to them the state of affairs, and to advise them to the best of his ability, touching their own best course in order to safely reach England. They felt that his advice was good, as truly disinterested, and both agreed to abide strictly by it; but doubted not that as Captain Ratlin had not been engaged in any slave commerce, and indeed had not been in the late action at all, that he would be very soon liberated, and free to choose his own calling. Captain Ratlin was conveyed on board the ship in the harbor, and Mrs. Huntington and her daughter also, with Maud and some other witnesses that Captain Bramble desired; and the vessel shaped her course along the coast towards Sierra Leone, where there was sitting an English court of admiralty, with extraordinary authority relative to such cases Captain Bramble was now about to lay before them, and who would be only too much gratified at the bringing before them of an offender to make an example of him. Captain Bramble of course offered to Mrs. Huntington and her daughter his own cabin for their greater comfort, and strove to make their position as comfortable as possible for them while they were on board; but he had not the nice sense of honor, that true delicacy of spirit, which should have led him to remember they were his guests from necessity, and that to push a suit under such circumstances was not only indelicate but positively insulting. And yet he did so; true, he did not actually importune Miss Huntington, but his attentions and services were all rendered under that guise and aspect which rendered them to her most repulsive. Captain Bramble took good care that his prisoner and rival should have no degree of intercourse with her whom he knew very well Captain Ratlin loved. Under pretence that he feared his prisoner would attempt to escape, he kept him under close guard, and did not permit him once upon deck during the entire trip from the factory of Don Leonardo to the harbor of Sierra Leone. This chafed the young commander's spirit somewhat, but yet he was of too true a spirit to sink under oppression; he was brave and cheerful always. Of course, Miss Huntington saw and understood all this, and the more heartily despised the English officer for the part he played in the unmanly business. Maud kept by herself. She felt miserable, and as is often the case, realized that the success of her treachery, thus far, which, in her anticipation, had promised so much, had but still more deeply shadowed her heart. The English officer looked upon her with mingled feelings of admiration for her strange beauty, with contempt for her treachery, and with a thought that she might be made perhaps the subject of his pleasure by a little management by-and-by. It was natural for a heart so vile as his to couple every circumstance and connection in some such selfish spirit with himself; it was like him. "Maud," he said to her, one day. "Well," she answered, lifting her handsome face from her hands, where she often hid it. "You have lost one lover?" The girl only answered by a flashing glance of contempt. "How would you like another?" "Who?" she said, sternly. "Me!" answered Captain Bramble. "You!" she said, contemptuously, and with so much expression as to end the conversation. No, he had not rightly understood the Quadroon; it was not wounded pride, that sentiment so easily healed when once bruised in the heart of a woman; it was not that which moved the laughter of the Spanish slaver--it was either love, or something very like it, turned to actual hate, and the native power of her bosom for revenge seemed to be now the food upon which she sustained life itself. Taking her lonely place in the cabin, after the conversation just referred to, she again hid her face in her hands, and remained with her head bowed in her lap for a long, long while, half dreaming, half waking. Poor, untutored, uncivilized child of nature! she was very, very unhappy now. CHAPTER XIII. THE TRIAL. AT the immediate time of which we now write, there had been some very aggravated instances of open resistance to the English and American cruisers on the African station by the slavers who thronged the coast, and the home government had sent out orders embracing extraordinary powers, in order that the first cases that might thenceforth come under the cognizance of the court might lead to such summary treatment of the offenders, as to act as an example for the rest, and thus have a most salutary effect upon the people thus engaged. It was under these circumstances that Captain Will Ratlin found himself arraigned before the maritime commission at Sierra Leone, with a pretty hard case made out against him at the outset of affairs. The truth was, he had not been taken resisting the attack of Captain Bramble and his men, but his accusers did not hesitate to represent that he was thus guilty, and several were prepared, Maud among the rest, to swear to this charge. Indeed, Captain Bramble found that he had people about him who would swear to anything, and he had little doubt in proving so strong a case as to jeopardize even the life of his prisoner, since many of his crew had died outright in the attack upon the "Sea Witch," to say nothing of the seriously wounded. All that could prejudice the court against the prisoner was duly paraded before the eyes and ears of the individual members ere yet the case was brought legally before them, and at last when Captain Ratlin was formally brought into court, he was little less than condemned already in the minds of nine-tenths of the marine court. He was rather amazed to see and to hear the free way in which evidence was given against him, corroborating statements which amounted to the most unmitigated falsehoods, but above all to find Maud unblushingly declare that she saw him in the fight, and that he shot with a pistol one of the men whose name had been returned as among the dead, and that he had wounded another. The girl avoided his eyes while she uttered her well-fabricated story, but had she met the eyes of the young commander, she would have seen more of pity there than of anger, more of surprise than of reproach, even. But in the meantime, while these feelings were moving him, the case was steadily progressing, and began to wear a most serious aspect as it regarded the fate of Captain Will Ratlin. There still remained one other witness to examine, whose illness had kept him on board ship up to the last moment, and who it was said could identify the prisoner as one of the party engaged in defending the deck of the slaver. He was a servant of Captain Bramble's, had attended his master in the attack, but having received a blow from a handspike upon the head, was rendered insensible at the first of the action, and had been carried on board his ship in that condition, from which state he had gradually recovered until it was thought he would be able to testify before the court at the present time. After a few moments of delay, the man made his appearance, evidently not yet recovered from the fearful blow he had received, but yet able to take his place at the witness's post, and to perform the part expected of him. No sooner had the court, through its head, addressed the witness, than he answered promptly the preliminary queries put to him, while the effect upon Captain Ratlin seemed to be like magic. Was it guilt that made him start so, rub his eyes, look about him so vaguely, and then sitting down, to cover his face with his hands, only to go through the same pantomime again? We ask, was it guilt that made him act thus? The judges noted it, and even made memorandums of the same upon their record of evidence. It was observed as significant also by every one present. Captain Bramble himself looked at the prisoner with surprise to see him thus effected by the presence of his servant. "For the love of Heaven!" exclaimed the prisoner aloud, as though he could bear this intensity of feeling no longer, "who is this man?" "It is my servant--an honest, faithful man, may it please the court. Leonard Hust, by name, born in my father's service," said Captain Bramble. "Leonard Hust," mused the young commander, thoughtfully; "Leonard Hust!" "Ay, sir," added Captain Bramble, somewhat pertly, "do you find any objection to that name? If so, sir, I pray you will declare it to the court." "Leonard Hust!" still mused the prisoner, without noticing this interruption. "There is a strange ring upon my ears in repeating that name!" "Prisoner," said the judge, "do you recollect having done this man a severe and almost fatal harm in the late conflict?" "I--I," said the young commander, somewhat confused in his mind from an evident effort to recall some long-forgotten association. "You will be so good as to answer the question put by the court," repeated the judge. "The court will please remember that I hurt no one, and that I was not even engaged in the action referred to. These good people are mistaken." Now it was that the attention of all were drawn towards Leonard Hust, who in turn seemed as much surprised and as much moved by some secret cause as the prisoner had been. He hastily crossed the court room to where the prisoner sat, and looking full into his eyes, seemed to be for a moment entranced, while the court remained silent, observing these singular manifestations, which they could not understand. "Leonard--Leonard, I say!" repeated Captain Bramble, "what trick is this?" "Trick!" whispered the man; "trick, Captain Bramble! Tell me, sir, who is that man?" "Why, they call him Captain Will Ratlin, and we know him to be a slaver." The servant still hesitated, looking from the prisoner to his principal accuser, the English officer, then at the court, and finally drawing his master a little on one side, the man again went through the pantomime described, and placing his mouth to his master's ear whispered something which startled him as though a gun had been fired at his very ear. The shock was like electricity, and made him stagger for support. Two or three times he repeated "Impossible! impossible!" and finally begged the court to stay the proceedings, as he was taken suddenly ill, and should not be able to attend until to-morrow. Being the principal prosecutor and witness, of course his presence was requisite to the progress of the trial, and therefore as he made this request it was at once formally granted, and the court adjourned for the time, while the prisoner was remanded on ship-board for safe keeping until the next day. That the reader may understand the singular conduct of both the young commander and Leonard Hust, he must follow the latter worthy into his master's private room in the government house, where they proceeded at once after the occurrences described. "In Heaven's name, Leonard, what do you mean by such an assertion?" asked Captain Bramble, throwing himself into a chair, and wiping the cold perspiration from his face. "I mean, sir, that the man on trial to-day is no more nor less than your brother!" "Charles Bramble?" "Yes, sir." "How strange is all this. How know you beyond all cavil, Leonard?" "By the scar over the right eye. You gave it to him yourself. Don't you remember, sir, just previous to the dog affair, for which he ran away from home!" "By Heaven! I believe you speak truly; and yet how strange, how more than strange it all is, that we should meet again in this way!" "It quite nonplussed me, sir. I thought he was a ghost at first." "Strange, strange!" mused the elder brother. "In those days, long ago in our childhood, he crossed my path constantly, and here he is again athwart my hawse. By Heaven! but it is strange--wonderful, that fate should have thrown him and Helen Huntington together again, and that neither should know the other; and yet not so very strange, for she was but eight years old when Charles ran away. Yes, he thwarted me then, for even in childhood the girl fancied him above me, and now she affects him even in his fallen fortunes." "What shall we do, sir, now that master Charles has turned up again?" asked Leonard Hust, in his simplicity. "We cannot testify against him now, sir." "No, no, no!" said the elder brother, hastily, "he must not be further examined." "How he has altered, sir, only to think," continued the servant; "why, when he went away from Bramble Park, sir, he wasn't much more than nine years old." "Yes. I remember, I remember, Leonard," replied his master, hurriedly, while he walked the apartment with quick, irregular steps. "I remember only too well." This was indeed that elder brother who had, when a boy, so oppressed, so worried, and rendered miserable his brother Charles, as to cause him in a fit of desperation to stray away from home, whither he knew not. His parents saw now--alas! too late--their fatal error; but the boy was gone, no tidings could be had of him, and they believed him dead. The honest tar, whose yarn the attentive reader will remember, as given on the deck of the "Sea Witch," spoke truly of his commander. He had, years before, strayed alongside a vessel, as has been related, from whence he hardly knew himself, or was afraid to say. Hunger and neglect even then had greatly changed him, and he shipped, as has been related. The fall he got at sea threw a cloud over his brain as to past recollections up to that time, and here if the wish ever possessed him as to returning to his early home, he knew naught of it. When he heard the voice of Leonard Hust in the court, it seemed to strike upon some string in memory's harp, which vibrated to old familiar recollections, and the more he heard him speak the more the sensation came over him which led to the demonstrations which we have already witnessed. And yet he could not recall aught that would serve him as a clue--the early injury to his brain seemed to have obliterated the connecting links that memory could not supply. The reason, probably, why the servant's voice and not the brother's thus recalled him was, that the former had been kind, and his voice had ever sounded like music in the neglected boy's ears, but the brother's voice had never had that charm or happy association connected with it. As to little cousin Helen,--as she was then called,--it was not strange that Miss Huntington, after years of estrangement in India, meeting him under such circumstances, himself so changed, should not have recalled enough of the past to recognize him; and yet we have seen that at times she dwelt upon the tender accents of his voice like sleeping memories, herself quite ignorant of the cause of this peculiar influence. She was now with her mother on shore at the mission house, in an agony of suspense as to the result of the trial which was taking place. She feared the worst, for Captain Bramble had taken measures to instruct those about her to their effect that the prisoner would be found guilty, and either strung cup by the neck at once, or be sent home to England for the same purpose. Mrs. Huntington felt sad and borne down by the position of affairs--for although she did not understand her daughter's sentiments towards Captain Ratlin, yet she recognized the fact of her and her child's indebtedness to him, and that he had evinced the characteristics of a gentleman. "Mother, if they find Captain Ratlin guilty, what can they, what will they do with him?" asked Helen Huntington anxiously of her mother, on the day of the trial. "Why, my dear, it is terrible to think of, but the penalty of such a crime as is charged to him, is death; but we must hope for the best, and--why Helen, how pale you look!" "It was only a passing spasm, mother. I am--I believe I am already better," said the daughter, in an agony of suffering that she dared not evince. "Come, Helen, lean on me and go to your bed for a while; these sudden changes and so much exposure has rendered you weak. Come, my dear, come." And the poor girl, all trembling and pale, suffered her mother to lead her to her chamber, where a gentle anodyne soothed her nerves, and she soon fell to sleep. Had her mother not been little better than blind, she would have easily read her daughter's heart, and have seen that she loved with all her woman's soul the man who was that day on trial for his life. What mattered it to her that he was nameless, a wanderer, a slaver? She loved him, and that covered each and all faults, however heinous in the sight of the law. She felt that it was not the outward associations which made a man. She had looked beneath the surface of his soul, and had seen the pure crystal depth of his manly heart--frank, open, and as truthful as day itself. To her he was noble, chivalric and true, and if all the world had blamed him, if all had called him guilty, her bosom would have been open to receive him! Could he have realized this as he lay in chains on board his elder brother's ship--could he have known that he was really loved by that fair, sweet and gentle creature, how it would have lightened the weight of the iron bands he bore--how cheered his drooping spirits. CHAPTER XIV. THE BROTHERS. Now commenced a struggle in the bosom of Robert Bramble. It was some hours before he could recover from the first blush of amazement at the strange discovery he had made. Not to have had something of a brother's feelings come over him at such a time, he must have been less than human; and it was between the promptings of blood, of early recollections of childhood, before he grew to that age when his disposition, ruined by indulgence, had led him so bitterly to oppress and injure his brother as to drive him from the home of their youth, and the recollection of those little more matured years, when jealousy at his superior aptness, strength, and success with "cousin Helen," had made him hate him. It was impossible for the man to forget the bitterness of the child; besides, had not the same spirit of rivalry ripened, until he found his brother in manhood still his successful rival with Helen Huntington? The reader will remember that they had all three been children together, and that the last time Charles had looked back at his home, as he started away from it, his eye detected the little form of Helen, where she stood gazing after him. If there had been any better promptings in the heart of Robert Bramble, they would have turned the balance in favor of his brother, and he would have befriended him; but this he did not do. He walked his room, bitterly musing upon the singular position of affairs, while he knew very well that Charles lay in chains on board his ship in the harbor. Then he recalled the memory of his parents, as connected with this state of affairs. The father was dead, the mother, a weak-minded woman, was also bowed by ill-health; indeed, their early lives had few happy associations. Robert himself had embittered all its relations. It was nearly midnight, and the moon had sunk behind the hill that sheltered the harbor on the north, leaving the dark water of the bay in deep shadow. At long gunshot from the shore lay the ship in which Charles Bramble was confined. All was still as death, save the pace of the sentinel in the ship's waist, and a ripple now and then of tide-way against the ship's cable. An observant eye, from the leeward side of the ship, might have seen a dark form creep out from one of the quarter ports, and gradually make its way along the moulding of the water-lines toward the larboard bow ports, one of which it stealthily entered. Entering with this figure, we shall soon find it to be Leonard Hust, who now, watching an opportunity, slipped into the apartment where the young commander had been confined since he left the factory of Don Leonardo. No sooner was the door closed quietly, so as to avoid the observation of the watch between decks, than the new comer opened a secret lantern and discovered himself to the prisoner, at the same time cautioning him to silence. "Who are you?" coolly asked Charles Bramble, for thus we must know him in future. "Leonard Hust," was the reply; "your friend, as I will soon prove." "But it is only a few hours since you were giving witness against me." "That is true; but bless you, sir, there has been a great change in matters since that." "So I thought, by the movements I observed, though I did not understand them." "Hist! speak low, sir," said the other, "and while I am talking to you, just let me, at the same time, be filing off these steel ornaments upon your wrists!" "File them off? Well, then, you must, indeed, be a friend," said the prisoner. "Leave me to prove that. Sit here, so the light will fall on them, with your back this way, that will keep the light from showing between decks. So, that is it." "But what was it made your voice and the sound of your name affect me so this morning? I could not divest myself of the feeling that, I had heard it somewhere before." "Heard it? bless you, sir, I rather think you have heard it before," said the fellow, as he worked industriously with his file upon the handcuffs. "Well, where, and when; and under what circumstances?" asked the prisoner, curiously. "That is just what I am going to tell you, sir; and you see, master Charles--" "Master Charles,--Charles,--why do you call me that name?" "Why, you see, that is your name, to be sure. Charles Bramble, and you are Captain Robert Bramble's brother, and--take care, hold still, or the file will cut you." "How,--do not trifle with me,--what is this which you are telling me?" "Indeed, sir,--indeed, it is all true," said the other, half frightened at the effect his words had produced upon the prisoner, who now stepped away from him and stood aloof, withdrawing his wrists from the operation which Leonard Hust was performing. "Come hither, Leonard Hust, if that be your name," he said; "sit here and tell me what this business is that you refer to. No blind hints, sir, but speak out plainly, and like a man." Thus interrogated, the man did as he was directed, and went on to tell the commander of the "Sea Witch" his story, up to the time when he was lost to his parents and friends. How he had never been kindly treated by his elder brother, who, indeed, drove him from home by his incessant oppression. He referred to that last gallant act he had performed, by saving his mother's favorite dog, and how little cousin Helen (she is the same as Miss Huntington) had seen it all, and had thanked him over and over again for it, and a thousand other reminiscences, thread by thread, and link by link, filling up the space from earliest childhood to the hour when he had left his home at Bramble Park. As he went on relating these things, in the same old natural voice that he had poured into the same ears from their infancy, until nearly ten years had passed, a long-closed vein of memory seemed gradually to open in the prisoner's brain; he covered his face with his hands, and for a few moments seemed lost in connecting the various threads of the past, until gradually it all came plainly and clearly back to him. His memory had again by these hints become completely restored, he was himself again! "Leonard, Leonard, I see all, remember all," he said, while a tear, a man's tear, wet for a single moment his bronzed cheek. "I am rejoiced, sir, to hear it, I am sure," said the other. "But, Leonard, where is my brother, and why is it necessary to remove these badges of shame by stealth? Tell me, where is Robert?" "Alas, sir, you must remember that he never held a brother's regard for you; it was that very thing which drove you from us when you were a wee bit of a boy." "True, true; but he must see the hand of Providence in all this, and I know he will give me his hand, and we will forgive each other and forget the past." "Alas! sir, I always befriended you at home, when master Robert had set both the old folk against you, and I would do so now; but as to him, sir, I am sorry to say it, but he's a bad man, and he makes all those who are with him bad men, and I have many a sad thing at heart that I have been guilty of by following his orders, sir. No, no, master Charles, take my advice, don't trust Robert,--make your escape, or you will be hanged at the yard-arm of this very ship ere another twenty-four hours have passed!" "Is he capable of this?" asked the younger brother, in tones of amazement. "Nobody should know better than I, sir, and I tell you yes." "My blood, then, shall not be upon his hands," said Charles, musing, "I will escape. Come, good Leonard, relieve me of these shackles, and quickly." "Slowly, slowly, master Charles, we must be cautious, there are watchful eyes on board the ship, and sentries who know their duty, so be wary." The young commander seemed now to stand more erect, there was a freer glance to his eye, his lips were more compressed and firm, he felt that what had been to him heretofore an indelible stain, a stigma upon his character, was now effaced; he was not only respectably born, but even gently and highly so. His father was knighted by his king, his blood was as pure and ancient as any in England. He could now take Helen Huntington to his heart without shame; he could boldly plead a cause that he had not before dared to utter; he could refer her to the dear hours of their childhood, to the tender kiss she gave him when he left that distant home to become a wanderer over half the globe! He no longer felt the irons that Leonard Hust was filing away. He seemed to feel a strength that would have snapped them like pack threap. He was a man now, a free man, and not a thing of accident; a thing for the world to point at in scorn, not an abandoned child of shame. No, he felt nerved at once by this singular, this almost miraculous discovery, and could hardly restrain his impatience. Yet a shadow for a moment crossed over his brow, as he thought of that brother, who could coldly look on and see him sacrificed, knowing what he must and surely did know. Could he have permitted such a result, had he been in Robert's place? Indeed, he felt he could not. "Does not my brother know that you are here on this errand, Leonard?" "If he did it would cost me my life," said the honest fellow. Charles would have placed some favorable construction upon the case, but, alas, he could not; there was no possible way of disguising the matter. Robert was the same bitter, jealous-spirited soul that had rendered his childhood miserable. Time had not improved him,--it was his nature and could not be eradicated. Charles now realized this, and within a few further inquiries of Leonard, touching matters of vital interest to him, he resolved not to seek Robert, as he had at the outset intended, neither would he avoid him. He knew no other person save him could bring a continuance of the suit against him, but he hardly feared that even he would do that. "Of course Helen Huntington knows nothing of this development yet, Leonard?" "No, sir, and master Robert bid me be careful not to let her find it out, or to say one word about the matter to any one whatever. I wonder the lady didn't know you, sir." "You forget that even Robert did not recognize me." "And that, too, seemed funny to me. Why, sir, I seemed to know you the instant I set eyes on you in the court, and when I got close I soon settled the doubt in my mind." "Well, my good fellow, it seems that but for you I might have been hanged, and that, too, by my own bother; but I trust all is set right now." "I hope so, sir, only you must not let master Robert know that I liberated you from these ruffles, sir, will you, master Charles?" "Never fear me, Leonard, I shall not do as you were about to do towards me, give testimony that will in any way criminate you." "But I wasn't, sir, of my own free will, only master Robert had told me what I must say, and stick to it, and swear to it through thick and thin, and I'm afraid not to obey him." "Poor fellow, I see you are, indeed, his tool; but if I find myself in any sort of a position ere long, I will take care to make your situation more comfortable." "Thank ye, sir," said Leonard Hust, just as the last shackle dropped from the prisoner's wrists. In the mean time, let us turn for a moment to the bedside of Captain Robert Bramble, for it is long past midnight, and, weary in mind and body, he had retired to that rest which he most certainly needed. But sleep is hardly repose to the guilty, and he was trebly so. Phantoms of all imaginable shapes flitted across his brain, pictures of suffering, of misery and of danger, to all of which he seemed to be exposed, and from which he had no power to flee. Alas, how fearful the shadows that haunt a bad man's pillow. He writhed like one in physical pain, tossed from side to side, while the cold perspiration stood in big drops upon his brow and temples. Now his dreams carry him back, far back a score of years, to his childhood at Bramble Park, when all was innocence, and then, with leaping strides, he finds himself, years after, even as to-day, bearing deadly witness against his brother. His dead father seems standing by his bedside, pointing at him a warning finger, and sadly chiding his fearful want of feeling. He tosses and turns and writhes again, then leaping from the uneasy bed, looks bewildered around, and half grows alarmed. Quickly he wraps a dressing-gown about him, and hastily walks back and forth to still the agony of feeling and the bitter phantoms of his dreams. How haggard and wild he looks by that dim candle-light. Once more he throws himself upon his bed, and, after a while, is again asleep, if such unconsciousness can be called sleep. Again he tosses, and turns, and sighs like one in a nightmare until at last, towards the breaking of day, the quick, startling breathing ceases, and subsides into a regular and equal respiration, and he lies still. Nature overcomes all else, and he now sleeps, indeed, but not until he has passed through a fearful purgatory of dreams, all too real, too trying.--His brother, with soon the prospect of a disgraceful death on the gallows, had not suffered thus. No, he was repentant for the wrong he had done, and had already resolved to completely reform if the opportunity were offered to him; but Robert Bramble was outraging the laws of nature and of God. CHAPTER XV. THE ESCAPE. CHARLES BRAMBLE found himself playing a dangerous part. It was true that Leonard Hust had freed his hands from those shackles that had confined them so long, and had pointed out to him the way to retreat and escape; but he must run the gauntlet of dangers in order to do so. This, however, he was prepared to do; as to fear, it was a sensation he knew not; but prudence was much more requisite in this instance than any especial degree of courage. As is always the case on board a man-of-war, especially when lying in port, where the escape to the shore is easy, sentinels were placed at stem, stern and waist of the English ship, at all hours, pacing their allotted round of the deck, and keeping watchful guard over every avenue of exit from the vessel. The only possible plan of escape that suggested itself to Charles Bramble, under the circumstances, was to place a few necessary articles of clothing in a small package, and confine it to the back of his neck, while he should divest himself of all garments, slip quietly into the water on the seaward side of the ship, where none of the sentries were immediately placed, the object being to guard the access to the shore more especially. Once in the water he had only to strike out quietly for the shore, trusting the dullness of the sentries and the favoring darkness of the night to enable him to reach the land unobserved. He had the most to fear from the sentry placed on the top-gallant forecastle of the ship, as that post was so near to his line of passage. He would have to swim around the bows far enough out to clear the land tackle, and when he got on an even line with the ship's bows, this sentry, if he happened to be on the lookout at the moment, could hardly fail to see him on the surface of the water. To obviate this difficulty, Leonard Hust, who was a sort of privileged person on board, being the captain's confidential servant and man of all work, undertook to engage the sentry's attention by sonic device, for a few moments, just at the opportune period, while the prisoner should get fairly clear of the ship. "See here, Bill," said Leonard Hust, carelessly, as he emerged from the fore hatch; "look ye, old boy, I have had such a dream, hang me if I can sleep a wink." "What's that to me?" growled the sentry, morosely, and not much more than half awake. "Why, if you knew what it was I dreamed, you would think it was something to you," continued the other, with assumed mystery and seriousness. "Look ye, Leonard Hust," said the marine, "do you know you arc talking to a sentry on duty, and that it's clearly against the rules of the ship to do so?" "Why, as to the matter of that, I don't see hut that you are as much to blame as I am," continued the other; "but who is there to peach on either of us?" "That's true," added the marine, bringing the butt of his musket lightly to the deck; "but for all that, Leonard, it's dangerous business, for you see if--hallo! what's that?" "Nothing; nothing but me drawing this cork," said the other, quickly producing a small bottle of brandy from his pocket, and urging the marine to drink. The temptation was too great, and the sleepy and tired sentinel drank a heavy draught of the liquor, smacking his lips, and forgetting the sound he had just heard, and which Leonard Hust very well knew was caused by the prisoner's descent a little too quickly into the water, alongside the ship. "Now, Bill, what do you think I did dream?" continued the captain's man. "Bother it, how can I tell?" answered the marine. "Let it out if it's worth telling." "Why, do you see, Bill, I kept tossing and turning uncomfortable-like for an hour or so, until finally I thought I saw you, with your face as black as the ace of spades, and your body dangling by the neck from the main yard-arm of the ship, a dead man!" "Well, that's comfortable at any rate," said the marine, "and you needn't trouble yourself in future, Leonard Hust, to repeat your dreams to me, especially if they are personal." "Never mind, man, it was all a dream, no truth in it, you know. Come, old boy, take another drink for companionship, and then good night to you, and I'll turn in." The marine greedily drained the rest of the bottle, and with swimming eyes thanked Leonard for his kindness, bade him good night, and with an unsteady step resumed his musket and his walk upon the forecastle. In the meantime, Charles Bramble, who was an expert swimmer, had got out of gunshot and even sight of the ship, or rather where his head could not be discovered from the ship's deck, and was nearing the shore very fast. He had secured, as he proposed, sufficient clothing upon the back of his neck, and in an oil cloth covering, so as to keep it dry, to equip himself quite comfortably on landing, and in these garments he was soon dressed again, and making his way through the town to the mission house, where he knew Helen Huntington and her mother to be, and where he knew, also, that he could find at last temporary lodgings. He had no longer any fear that his brother would resume the charge concerning him before the court--bad as he knew him to be, he did not believe that he would do this, though he doubted not that he would have managed to have kept him in confinement, and perhaps to have carried him thus to England, partly from revengeful feelings towards him, and partly to keep him out of the presence of her whom he so tenderly loved. But, lest his brother should be betrayed by his feelings into any extremity of action concerning him, he resolved at once to write him a note, declaring that their relationship was known, and that should any further persecution be offered, the same should at once be made public to the oppressor's disgrace. With this purpose, he hardly awaited the breaking of day before he possessed himself of writing materials, and wrote and despatched the following to his brother: "CAPTAIN ROBERT BRAMBLE,--About the same time you receive this note, you will also be made aware, doubtless, of my escape from durance vile in your ship. The purpose of my sending yon this is not to ask any favors at the hand of one who was never actuated towards me even in childhood by a brother's regard, but whose sole desire and purpose have been to oppress and injure one related to him by the nearest ties of relationship. My object is rather to let you know that any further attempt to arraign me before the court will lead at once to a public declaration of the fact that your are my brother, a relationship which necessity alone will compel me to publish to the people of Sierra Leone. CHARLES BRAMBLE, "Alias CAPTAIN WILL RATLIN." Charles Bramble felt that he was safe from further immediate oppression on his brother's part, and that it was only necessary for him to keep quietly within doors until some chance for shipping from the port should occur, to enable him to disentangle himself from the singular web of circumstances which chance had woven so net-like about him. In spite of the sad accomplishments of the realization of his condition as it regarded his brother, and the partial danger of his present position, yet there was a lightness to his heart, a buoyancy in his breast, which he had not known for nearly a score of years, for he now felt that all shame of birth was removed from him, that he was respectably and even highly born, and that in point of blood was even the equal, full equal of that fair and lovely girl he regarded so devotedly. Of course there was no disguise between Charles Bramble and Helen, and her mother, as to the charge brought against him. They knew very well that he had been engaged in the evil trade of the coast, but they knew also that he had conducted his part of the business upon the most humane principles which the traffic would admit, and that he was not a principal, but an agent in the business, sailing his ship as rich owners had directed, and also that besides the fact of his having utterly renounced the trade altogether since he became acquainted with Helen Huntington, his heart and feelings had never been engaged in its necessary requirements. Realizing these facts, we say, neither Helen nor her mother regarded Captain Ratlin (the only character in which they yet knew him) to be actually and seriously culpable as to at charge of inhumanity. The gratification which Helen evinced on meeting him the next morning after his escape from the ship, was too honest, too unmistakable in its import not to raise up fresh hopes in his heart, that, in spite of his seeming disgrace, his confinement as a prisoner, his trial as an outlaw, and his fallen fortunes generally, still there was one heart that beat purely and tenderly with at least a sister's affection for him, and even Mrs. Huntington, who had not for one moment suspected the true state of her daughter's sentiments towards the young commander, did not hesitate to salute him tenderly, and assure him of her gratification at his release from bondage. She was a generous hearted woman, frank and honorable in her sentiments, and she secretly rejoiced that they had, herself and daughter unitedly, been able to exert a refining influence over so chivalric and noble a character, as she fully realized Captain Ratlin to be at heart, and in all his inward promptings. Charles Bramble still hesitated as to revealing his relationship to Captain Robert Bramble, from real feelings of delicacy, even to Mrs. Huntington, whom he felt he could trust, partly because he had reason to know that the mother had favored the suit of his brother whom Helen had rejected in India, and partly because at present of his own equivocal situation. But to Helen herself he felt that he might, indeed that he must reveal the important truth, and that very evening as they sat together in one of the spacious apartments of the mission house, he took her hand within his own, and asked her if he might confide in her as he would have done with a dear sister. "You know, Captain Ratlin, that I feel so much indebted to you, in so many ways, that any little service I am capable of doing for you would be but a grateful pleasure," was the instant and frank reply of the beautiful girl, while a heightened glow mantled her cheek. "Then, Helen, listen to me, and if I am too excited in speaking of a subject so immensely important to me, I trust you will forgive me. Already I have given you a rough outline of my story, rough and uncouth indeed, since I could give it no commencement. You will remember that previous to the fall I got on ship-board, while a boy in the 'Sea Lion,' I could recall no event. It was all a blank to me, and my parentage and my childhood were to me a sealed book. Strange as it may seem that book has been opened, and the story is now complete. I know all!" "Indeed! indeed I am rejoiced to hear you say so," was the earnest reply, while the countenance of the fair creature by his side was lighted up by tenderness and hope. "You look pleased, Helen," he continued; "but supposing the gap in my story, which is now filled up, had better for my own credit have remained blank!" "That cannot be--I feel that it cannot be," she said, almost eagerly. "Supposing that it is now ascertained that the parents of the sailor boy, whose story you have heard, deserted him because of necessity; supposing they were poor, very humble, but not dishonest, would such facts rob me of your continued kind feelings?" "You know, Captain Ratlin, that you need not ask such a question," she replied, as she looked into his face with her whole gentle soul open through her eyes. "You are too kind, too trusting in your confidence in me, Helen," he said. The only reply was from her downcast eyes, and a still warmer blush which covered the delicate surface of her temples even, and glowed in silent beauty upon her cheek. "Helen," continued he by her side in tones of tenderness that were momentarily becoming more and more gentle, more and more expressive of the deepest feeling; "Helen, do you remember the days of your childhood, at home, in far-off England, at home near Bramble Park?" "Yes, yes," she answered, eagerly. "But why do you speak of those days?" She looked into his face as she asked, almost as though she could read his meaning. "Do you remember Robert Bramble then?" "Well, well." "And do you remember his brother, Helen?" "Gracious heavens, yes!" she quickly answered, almost anticipating his words. "Well, Helen, Charles Bramble is before you!" She did not faint nor utter a shriek at the effect of the powerfully condensed feelings which crowded upon her heart and senses; but she stood for one moment gazing at him as though a veil had been removed from her eyes, recalling in one instant of time the sweet memories of their childish days together, recalling even the kiss, that last kiss he had given her years, years before, when he saw her for the last time, until they met in the broad ocean; she recalled these things and a thousand more in a moment of time. She remembered how strangely the tones of his voice had affected her from the outset, how they had seemed to awaken dreams of the past nearly every time she listened to him. These things she thought like a flash of mind in one instant, and then, covering her face with her hands, sobbed aloud! One moment Charles Bramble stood and looked upon that long-loved, beautiful form; one moment, like herself, recalled the past, the sunshine of his childish hours--ay, even the last kiss which she, too, remembered, now that so much had been recalled; and then he tenderly drew the weeping, loving girl to his heart, and whispered to her how dearly he loved her still! CHAPTER XVI. THE CANNIBALS. THE first intimation of his brother's escape from confinement reached Captain Bramble through the letter which we have already given to the reader. His rage knew no bounds; he saw at once that he was foiled completely, that he could do nothing towards his arrest, even, without casting such dishonor upon his own name as would publicly disgrace him for all time to come. In vain were all his efforts to discover the guilty assistants or assistant of the prisoner, as it was not known at what hour he escaped. Even the three sentinels on duty at the time could not be identified, though Leonard Hust's friend, Bill, did more than suspect that some trick had been played upon him during his watch; but he could say nothing about the matter without making such a case of self-crimination as to ensure punishment, and that, too, of the most sanguinary character. Leonard Hust knew this, and feared him not. There was another party sadly disappointed in this state of affairs, one who only assumed sufficient importance to be noticed when her services were needed, but she nevertheless felt and suffered, probably, as much as any one of our characters. We refer to Maud Leonardo. She had found lodgings in an obscure residence in the town during the course of the trial, and had resolved to remain until the sentence was given (of the result of which no one doubted), and even until the detail of that sentence should be executed, which she had already, learned would doubtless be death by hanging at the yard-arm of the ship in which he was confined. Poor girl! it was sad to think that she could gloat over this anticipated result--such was the power of her revenge. But in the same ratio to the intensity of her secret satisfaction at the hoped-for execution of Captain Will Ratlin, whom she had once loved, but now so bitterly hated, was her disappointment, vexation, and uncontrollable anger, at the idea of his escape, of which she was one of the first to learn. Captain Robert Bramble, though he did not attempt to find his brother, would hardly have believed that he would remain openly in town, and at the mission-house; but Maud reasoned more truly. It was the first thought that entered her head that he had probably gone thither to be near and with Helen Huntington, and thither she stealthily crept, and watched until she saw him, and thus satisfied herself. Knowing nothing of the discovery that had been made, she hastened to give information to Captain Bramble, supposing that he would take steps for his immediate arrest; but in this she was disappointed. She could not understand the apathy which seemed to have come over the English officer who so lately had thirsted for the young commander's blood, and she went away from him amazed and dejected. In vain, thus far, had her attempts resulted as to sacrificing him whom she so bitterly despised. She had trusted to others thus far--this she said to herself, as she mused at the fruitless attempts she had been engaged in--now she would trust to herself. But how to do it she hardly knew. When he was under her father's roof, and she unsuspected of hostility to him, it would have been an easy matter, with her knowledge of poisons, to have sacrificed his life; but now it was not so very easy for her to find an opportunity for any sort of approach to him. But this seemed her last and only resource of vengeance, and she cared to live only to consummate it. Actually afraid to bring his brother again to trial, for fear of a personal exposure, Captain Robert Bramble was now in a quandary; he was looked to by the court for a conclusion of the suit he had brought, and was now so situated that he found it necessary to screen that brother whom he so bitterly disliked, from the cognizance of the authorities. Indeed, he became nervous lest the exposure should become public in spite of his efforts at concealing the singular facts. All this, of course, tended to the safety of his brother Charles, who had rightly anticipated this state of affairs in relation to the part that Robert must needs enact; he therefore felt perfectly safe in awaiting an opportunity for shipment to England in the first vessel bound thither, and it was at once agreed between Mrs. Huntington, Helen and himself, that they would go together. The period of the return of Captain Bramble's ship to England was fast approaching, and passage had been offered to Helen and her mother therein; but Helen had promptly declined it, and induced her mother to do so also, though it required some persuasion to bring this result about. Charles Bramble, of course, kept within doors at Sierra Leone, and did not, by exposing his person, provoke arrest. He was reading aloud to Helen a few days subsequent to his escape from his brother's ship, when the door of the room was stealthily opened, and a person stepped in. "Well, Leonard Hust," said Charles Bramble, "what has brought yon here so clothed in mystery? Art well, my good fellow?" "Yes, very well, master Charles; but I come to tell you that you must get away from this place, for a few days at least. It is not safe for you." "What is in the wind, Leonard, now? Have the court scented me out?" "Yes, mister Charles, and your brother Robert has agreed to deliver you up!" "Has he?" added Charles Bramble, musing. "I did not expect that." "Yes, sir; and I thought I would just slip over here and advise you to get off as quick as possible, for the officers will be over here in an hour or so." "Thank you, Leonard. What is that protruding from your pocket?" "Pistols, sir." "Very good, Leonard, I will borrow them." "They are yours, sir, with all my heart." "Are they loaded, Leonard?" "With two slugs each, sir, and as true as a compass." These formidable preparations startled Helen, who looked beseechingly towards him whom she loved better than her own life. She came and placed a hand timidly upon his shoulder, and looked into his face with all the wealth of her heart expressed in her eyes, as she said: "Pray, pray, Charles, be cautious, be prudent for my sake, will you not?" "I will, dearest," he whispered, as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her pure white forehead. "We shall not long be separated--I feel that we shall not." Leonard Hust, who had befriended the younger brother while the two were under the parental roof, still clung to the interest of Charles Bramble. He had already procured for him a guide--a negro runner--who knew the coast perfectly, and with him for a companion, and a small pack of provisions, and well armed, Charles Bramble determined to make his way by land back to Don Leonardo's factory on the southern coast. In so doing, he would be able not only to elude all pursuit, but would also be able to further his own pecuniary interest by settling up his affairs with Don Leonardo, and arranging matters as to the property that had been entrusted to him by the owners of the "Sea Witch." Charles Bramble awaited impatiently the coming of the guide, until indeed he was afraid that longer delay would expose him to the arrest which he so much desired to avoid, and then telling Leonard that he would hasten forward to the outskirts of the town, where he would await the guide. Leonard Hust promised to bring him directly, and thus they parted; the younger brother, hastening towards the jungle at the environs of Sierra Leone, at length reached the designated spot, where he quietly awaited the arrival of his guide. It was quite dark before the expected individual came; but at length he did arrive, and thrusting a note into the hands of the impatient refugee, waited for orders. Charles opened the paper and read in a rough school-boy hand, that he, Leonard Hast, had intended to come to see him off, but that he could not, and that the bearer was a faithful guide, somewhat eccentric, but reliable. Charles Bramble looked carefully for a few moments at the companion of his long and dangerous journey. He saw before him the person of a negro, slender, agile, rather below the usual height, and clothed after the style of the settlers, in pants and jacket, but with a red handkerchief bound upon the head. In a coarse, leathern belt, the negro wore a short double-edged knife and a pistol, while in his hand he held a short, sharp spear, which served for staff and weapon both, and was designed more particularly for defence against the wild animals that infested the jungle in all directions. The guide was painted in the face after fantastic style often adopted by the shore tribes in Africa, in alternate lines of red and yellow and white, so as to give a most strange and inhuman expression to the countenance. But Charles Bramble was familiar with these tricks of the race, and saluting the guide kindly told him his plans, and asked if he could guide him on the route. Being assured in the affirmative, he felt satisfied, and the two, by the light of the moon, which was now creeping up in the heavens, commenced their journey, intending, after passing a few leagues, to make up their camp, light their fires to keep off the wild animals, and sleep. The resting-place was at last found, and after the usual arrangements had been completed, and a circle of fire built around them, the two lay down to sleep. Fatigue soon closed the eyes of our young adventurer, and he slept soundly, how long he knew not; but after a while he was awakened by the breaking of some decayed branches near him, and partially opened his eyes, half asleep, half conscious, when to his utter amazement he beheld, or fancied he beheld, a dozen pairs of glistening eyes peering at him from out the jungle. He did not stir, but feigning to be still asleep, he cautiously watched to see what all this meant. They surely did not belong to wild animals--those eyes! He partially turned without moving his body to ascertain if the guide was still by him, but found that he was gone. There was treachery somewhere--there was danger about him--this he seemed to feel instinctively, but still, feigning sleep, he almost held his breath to listen. He soon learned by his sense of clearing that there were some half dozen or more of negroes near to him, and that he was the subject of their conversation. He could even detect his guide's voice among the rest, though the conversation was carried on scarcely above a whisper. He had on a previous voyage taken much pains to familiarize himself with the language spoken by the shore tribes in the south, and he now had little difficulty in understanding a considerable portion of the remarks which were making by the gang who were secreted in the jungle so near to where he was lying, while he pretended sleep. He soon learned that his guide was followed by a half dozen or more of negroes, who had lately visited Sierra Leone on some business of their own, and who, in common with the guide, belonged to a fierce and warlike tribe, whose chief village was but a few leagues from Don Leonardo's factory. At first it was difficult to make out the actual purport of their scheme, though Charles Bramble could guess what he did not hear, and was satisfied that the cannibals intended to lead him, apparently in good faith, to the neighborhood of their village, where he was to be seized, sacrificed to some deity of these poor ignorant creatures' manufacture, and afterwards be eaten in council with great ceremony. All this he could distinctly make out, and certainly it was anything but agreeable to him. But Charles Bramble knew the race he had to deal with; he fully understood the fact that one after white man with his wits about him was equal to cope with a dozen of them at any time, and he felt prepared. He gathered at once that it was their intention to guide him safely until near their own village, where they would seize upon him, and from that moment make him a prisoner. Meanwhile none but his guide was to be seen by the traveller, so it was agreed, and he was to receive care and kind attention until the time appointed. Knowing all this, of course he was prepared for it, and now saw that for the present and the few coming days, he need have no alarm, and beyond that he must trust to his ready wit, personal prowess, and the indomitable courage which was natural to him. It may seem strange, but reasoning thus, he soon fell to sleep again in good earnest. The next morning, he met his guide with frankness, and the best of feeling seemed to prevail day after day, until suddenly one evening before night had fairly set in, and the day before he had anticipated any such attempt, the negroes suddenly fell upon him, and pinned his arms, and otherwise disabled him, so that he was completely at their mercy. Already they had arrived at the environs of their village, and into it they bore him in great triumph. Council was at once held, and it was resolved that on the morrow the prisoner should be sacrificed, and cooked, and eaten! This was anything but agreeable to our adventurer, but he did not despair. Thrusting his hand into his pack, he discovered an almanac that he had brought with him from Cuba. Turning over the hieroglyphics and singular figures, to the wonder and amusement of the negroes, he saw that on the morrow an eclipse of the sun would take place, and he immediately resolved to turn the fact to good account. He summoned the chief of the tribe and told him to his no small amazement, in his own tongue, that to-morrow, the Great Spirit that ruled the sun would put a veil over it in displeasure at the detention of his white child by them, but that as soon as they should loose his feet and arms, and set him free, the veil would be removed. Amazed at such an assertion, the chief consulted among his brethren, and it was agreed that if the white man's story proved true, then he should be released. At the hour appointed on the following day, the negroes were surprised and terrified to see the gradual and almost total eclipse of the sun, and attributed it to the Great Spirit's displeasure because of their detention of the white prisoner, as he had foretold. They hastened to loose his arms and to set him on his way rejoicing. They even bore him on their shoulders for leagues in a sort of triumphal march, and did not permit him to walk until they had brought him safely and deposited him with his arms and pack before the doors of Don Leonardo! CHAPTER XVII. THE POISONED BARB. OF course, Don Leonardo was amazed to see his friend, deeming him by this time either in an English prison or dead. He learned with amazement the part that Maud had performed, for Charles Bramble was forced to reveal to the father, who was eager to inquire after his daughter. Though Charles felt not the least compunctions of conscience as to the matter, yet he now fully realized the cause of all her enmity, though of this he said not a word to her father. Don Leonardo cheerfully joined the new-comer in completing his business arrangements, and Charles Bramble found himself the rightful owner of some eight thousand dollars in gold, the product of the goods which he had landed as his private venture, and he also took good care to forward true bills of credit to his owners in Cuba, for the specie which had been sent out by him to purchase slaves. These business arrangements consummated, he now began to think seriously of once more revisiting the scenes of his childhood, Bramble Park. He doubted not that Helen and her mother would arrive at their own early home, which adjoined that of Bramble Park, and which, by the way, had been leased during their settlement in India, as early as he could himself procure conveyance which would enable him to reach the spot. With this idea, he eagerly scanned the horizon daily, hoping for the arrival of some craft, even a slaver, that might bear him away, either towards America or Europe, so that he might get into the course of travel. One morning, when he had as usual gone up to the lookout and scanned the sea view far and near, he at last came down to the breakfast-room with his face quite speaking with inward satisfaction. He had seen a sail, evidently a large merchantman, and begged Don Leonardo to go up and see if together they could not make the stranger out more fully. Charles, himself, thought that she was heavy and evidently steering for the small bay on which the factory stood. But their curiosity was soon to be satisfied, for spar after spar gradually became more and more clearly defined, until at last the deck itself could be seen, and St. George's cross observed flying saucily in the breeze. The ship was a British sloop-of-war, and so it proved. In an hour more, Captain Robert Bramble came on shore, accompanied by Helen and her mother, with Maud Leonardo. As it afterwards appeared, Maud desired to be brought back to her father, and the English ship was but performing its appointed duty in cruising on the coast; while Helen knowing that Charles had come hither, persuaded her mother that it was best to sail with Captain Bramble, rather than stop in Sierra Leone among utter strangers. For on ship-board they were under his care, and besides, as she admitted to her mother, she had good reason for supposing that Captain Will Ratlin, for thus the mother knew him still, was at Bay Salo, as Don Leonardo's factory was called on the coast. Thus it was that they were once more on this spot. The brothers met before the collected members of the returning party and those on the shore, and regarded each other with a stern glance. It was the only token of recognition which passed between them; but Charles hastened to Helen's side, and pressing her hand tenderly, looked the words that he could not speak before others. Mrs. Huntington seemed overjoyed, too, at joining one whom she felt was a true friend to herself and daughter, and unhesitatingly evinced this feeling, while Maud and Captain Robert Bramble walked by themselves filled with bitter thoughts. Robert had at once presumed as to whither his brother had escaped, well knowing that he must here have left unsettled business accounts of great value and importance. He therefore was prepared for the meeting which took place as we have seen. The Quadroon saw Helen and Charles thus together, she saw the delight that this meeting caused to both, she was witness to the eloquent language of the eyes that beamed into each other, and then she hastened from the spot, crazed with bitterness of feeling, and fall of direful purpose. Had she been observed at that moment, it would have been seen that there was danger in her. To her father's kind salute, she turned a deaf ear, and hastened into the dwelling with headlong speed. Charles and Helen had much to say to each other. Now that he had told his love, now that the dark veil had been removed from the past that had obscured his origin, he felt confidence, and spoke with manly cheer and a light heart. The most indifferent observer would have noticed this, and it waits not without its effect upon Helen, who looked brighter and happier than ever before, and the two succeeded at once in infusing a degree of cheerfulness all around them, reflected by Helen's mother and even Don Leonardo, with his heavy eyebrows and shaggy beard. Captain Robert Bramble and Maud alone seemed unhappy, and they were moody indeed. It was towards the twilight hour on the very day of the arrival which we have referred to, that Charles and Helen arm in arm started away from the house to the adjacent jungle, where was a pleasant trysting-place, with a seat prepared for resort from the house. Breathing into each other's ears the glad and trusting accents of true love, they sauntered slowly hither and sat down there, Helen upon the rude, but comfortable seat, and Charles at her feet upon the ground. About them grew the rank, luxuriant foliage of Africa; fragrant flowers bloomed within reach of their hands, and luscious fruit greeted the eye in whichever direction it sought. The soft air of the afterpart of the day was ladened with sweetness, and they seemed to gather fresh incentive for tenderness and love in the peculiar surroundings of the spot. "So, you have broken off all connection with this business, and have settled your accounts with Don Leonardo, have you not?" asked Helen, of him at her feet. "Yes, dearest, all has been done, and I shall have no more to do with the trade of this inhospitable coast, you may be assured. My only hope and desire is once more to see you and your mother safe in England, where I can make you by sacred ties my own." Helen looked the tender response that beat in her heart, but which her lips refused to pronounce. She was very, very happy, and they talked over olden times, childish recollections, and the memories of their early home. While Charles and Helen were thus engaged, two other individuals closely connected with the plot of our story were not idle. Captain Robert Bramble was now satisfied that without physical force he could not intervene between his rival brother and Helen Huntington; he would gladly have done this, but policy prevented, for he saw that in doing so, he would but gratify his revenge without approaching a single step nearer the consummation of his wishes. It was nearly the appointed date for the sailing of his ship from the station for England, and he had made up his mind to return at once to Sierra Leone, and prepare to sail homeward. He had already taken leave of Mrs. Huntington, and was seeking her daughter to say to her farewell; the wind was fair, he would sail within the hour, and on inquiring for Helen he was told by some one that she had been seen a few moments before walking towards the jungle. The informant did not say in the company of him she so evidently loved, and Robert Bramble hastened forward in hopes that he might meet her there alone; perhaps, even once more press that oft rejected suit; he even thought as he went what he could say to her, and wondered how she would receive him. It was difficult to say what it was in his bosom which caused him so tenaciously to pursue this vain desire; his was not the heart to die for love, it amounted almost to obstinacy. He was self-willed, and was accustomed to have his own way in all things; here he had been thwarted from the very outset. Maud Leonardo, since her arrival home, was scarcely herself, she avoided all intercourse, spoke to no one, and locked herself in her chamber. But now she started forth intent on some purpose, as was evident from the direct and prompt step she pursued. Yes, from her window she had seen Charles, and Helen wander leisurely and affectionately together towards the jungle, and to the same point she now directed her steps, though by a circuitous path. She muttered to herself as she went, and walked with unwonted speed, as though she feared to lose one moment of time. At this quick pace, she was soon hidden in the paths of the thick undergrowth and forest land. "Hark! what sound is that?" said Helen, suddenly turning and peering into the thick foliage which surrounded the spot. "I hear nothing," replied Charles Bramble. "It was some bird perhaps, among these branches. But why do you look so pale, Helen?" "It is so terrible. I thought the sound was like that of one of those terrible serpents that frequent these parts, the anaconda, creeping towards us." "Nay, dearest, it was but your imagination; these reptiles avoid the near approach to human habitations, and would not be likely to be here." "There! there it is again," she said convulsively, drawing closely to his side, while both looked towards the spot from whence at that moment a sound proceeded. In a moment more there broke forth from the clustering vines and trees the figure of a man, with a drawn sword, who hastened with lowering brow towards them! It was Robert Bramble, incensed beyond endurance at the sight which met his vision through the vista of the foliage on his approaching the spot; he paused but for one single moment, then yielding to the power of his almost ungovernable temper, he drew his sword and rushed forward, determined to sacrifice his brother's life. Helen seeing plainly and instantly the state of affairs, threw herself with a scream of terror before Charles to protect him, unarmed as he was, from the keen weapon that gleamed in his brother's hand. But strange are the ways of Providence, and past finding out. At that instant he staggered, reeled forward, and placing one hand to his forehead fell nearly at their feet! Amazed at this, Charles and Helen both hastened to his side, but he was speechless, and ere he could be removed from the position in which he fell, life was wholly extinct. What was it that had so strangely, so suddenly sacrificed him in the midst of his fell intent? Hark! Charles starts as a shrill, low whizzing sound was heard close to his ear! The mystery is explained, a poisoned barb had killed his brother, entering the eye and piercing the brain, while this second one that had just whistled past his car, had been intended for him. He turned hastily to the direction from whence the missile had come, and there stood or rather staggered Maud Leonardo. He hastened now to her side as she gradually half knelt, half fell to the ground. Her eyes rolled madly in their pockets, her hands grasped vainly at the air, and she muttered incoherently. "Maud, Maud, what have you done?" asked Charles, leaning over her. "The barb was poisoned, it--it--was meant for you!" she half shrieked. "I--I--am dying, dying unrevenged--O, this scorching, burning pain!" "What ails you, Maud--what can we do for you?" asked Charles, kindly. "I--I am poisoned," groaned the Quadroon, holding up her lacerated hand which she had carelessly wounded with one of the barbs intended to have killed him. The barb she had wounded and killed Robert with, was blown through a long, hollow reed, a weapon much used in Africa, and the barb had been dipped in poison so subtle, rapid and sure in its effect, that the wound the girl had received accidentally in her hand, was fast proving fatal to her. In Robert Bramble's case, it had reached a vital part at once, and had been almost instantly fatal in its effect. But Maud was dying! "Poor, poor girl, what shall we say to your father?" asked Charles, for he knew full well the fatal poisons in which the negroes dip their tiny barbs; and he realized that the Quadroon, who was a victim to her own scheme of destruction, could not live but a few moments. She seemed too far gone to speak now, and turned and writhed in an agony of pain upon the ground, while Helen strove to raise her head and to comfort her. The poison seemed to act upon her by spasms, and she would have a moment now and then, when she was comparatively at ease. The lowering darkness of her face was gone now, a serenity seemed to be gathering there, and leaning forward between the paroxysms, she held forth the hand which was not wounded towards Charles Bramble who stood tenderly over her, and said in a low, gentle voice: "Forgive--forgive me! will you--will you not forgive me?" "With all my heart, poor girl, I do sincerely forgive you," said Charles, earnestly. All was not black in that human heart, the half effaced image of its Maker was there still; and Maud looked tenderly and penitently upon Helen and Charles. The former knelt by her side, and drawing the poor girl's hands together across her breast as she lay upon the ground, lifted her own hands heavenward, moving her lips in prayer as she bent over the sufferer. What little Maud knew of religious instruction, had been taught her in the form of the Episcopal church, and she now listened to the formal prayer from the litany appropriate to her situation. A sweet smile gathered over her face as Helen proceeded, and prayed for forgiveness for all sins committed; and as she paused at the close, three voices repeated the word Amen. Charles and Helen rose to their feet, but the spirit of the Quadroon had fled! CHAPTER XVIII. THE DENOUEMENT. THE events of the past few weeks seemed to Charles Bramble more like dream than reality; he could hardly compose his mind sufficiently to realize the serious bearings of his present situation. Of course, it was now useless longer to disguise his relationship to Robert, who had lost his life by means of the poisoned barb which Maud had intended for his brother. Charles took possession of his body, and informed all those necessary duties that his own feelings suggested, and form required. The second officer of the ship assumed the command vacated by Captain Robert's death, and as the time had now arrived for the return of the vessel to England, he sailed at once for Liverpool. Though Charles was loth to be separated from Helen, yet he urged upon herself and mother to join the English man-of-war, in which they could secure the most comfortable and safest passage to Liverpool; while for himself, there was still left business matters which it was imperative for him to consummate before he left the region where he was. It was at last decided that the mother and daughter should improve this mode of conveyance home, and Helen reluctantly bade him she so tenderly loved a tearful farewell, and in secret they pledged to each other their hearts for life. Charles Bramble watched the receding ship which contained her so dear to him, until it was a mere speck upon the waters, and then felt that it was possibly the last token he might ever see of her. The path before him was not one strewn with roses, he had serious dangers to encounter, a long voyage to make, and an unhealthy climate to endure; for he must cross the ocean, he found, in order to settle honorably with those men who had placed such unlimited faith in his integrity. But he had no ship or craft of any sort at his command, and must wait an opportunity for reaching the West Indies, doubtless, on board some vessel in the trade which he had just abandoned. Don Leonardo seemed to little heed the death of his daughter. In fact, he did not trouble himself to inquire into its particulars, further than to understand the immediate cause. He was a sensual and intemperate man, half of whose life was passed under the effects of unnatural stimulus, and provided his appetite was not interfered with, cared little what befell others. Since the English man-of-war had sailed, his barracoons began to fill once more with negroes from the interior, and he was now prepared to ship a cargo by the first adventurer's vessel which should arrive. The funds which Charles Bramble had brought out from Cuba to Africa, were consigned to Don Leonardo, and he of course would do with the money as he pleased; he therefore proposed to charter the first vessel that came, and ship a cargo the same as he would have done in the "Sea Witch." It was not long before one of those flat, low, dark clipper schooners hove in sight and ran into the bay. She was small, sat deep in the water, was scarcely three hundred tons burthen, but managed to stow three hundred and forty negroes with ease, and would have taken more had not intelligence from the lookouts been brought in, that a square rig was coming down the coast. Charles Bramble hesitated whether he should embark in this craft. It was consigned to his former owners, the very men he wished to meet. He might have to wait for months in order to obtain another chance, it was hardly a matter of choice with him, but became one of necessity, and he embarked accordingly. Charles Bramble was no sooner fairly at sea than he was filled with amazement at the condition of matters on board the slaver. Himself accustomed to enforce the most rigid discipline, he here saw a perfect bedlam; a crew of some thirty people, composed of the vilest of the vile, who must have been shipped only with an eye to numbers, and no regard for character or stability. Added to this, the captain, though a man of some experience as a seaman, had no control of the crew, and was quite at a loss how to manage them. Twice was Charles Bramble obliged to interfere between the crew and the captain before they were three days at sea; and by his stern, calm will he succeeded in preventing open mutiny by the crew. The fact was, the most desperate part of the foremast hands knew very well that the money sent out to purchase slaves, was still on board in good golden doubloons, and they were secretly scheming to take the schooner, kill the officers and appropriate the gold. Charles Bramble was accustomed to deal with such spirits; he was well-armed at all hours, and prepared for the very trouble which was to come, inasmuch as he had anticipated it. There were two mates and the captain, beside himself, who might be relied upon to stand by the vessel and the owners' rights, but they had fearful odds against them. There was also a lad who had gone out in the "Sea Witch" as cabin boy, whom Charles Bramble was now bringing back with him to his family in Cuba, the boy having escaped the massacre which occurred when the "Sea Witch" was burned, and who had been living at Leonardo's factory. On him also he felt he could rely. The boy soon discovered the mutiny that was hatching, and told the captain secretly that it would occur at the moment land was announced from the mast-head on making the islands of the West Indies. This was all the information necessary for Charles Bramble, to whom the captain of the schooner gave up all control, to prepare for the emergency. He completely armed the four parties on whom he could rely, and bade them wait for orders from him, but when he gave those orders to act instantly and without pausing for further consideration. The crew were somewhat puzzled to see their chief officer give up even the sailing of the vessel to him who had come on board as a passenger, but they could not but also perceive that he who acted as the captain now, was a very different man to deal with, and one who knew his business. They saw that the schooner was made to sail better than ever before, that the crew were kept in their places and busy, an important thing at sea, and though they were still resolved to make the attempt, they did not like the appearance of matters. Scarcely had the lookout after a short passage descried the first land, and hailed the deck with "land ho!" when a change was instantly observed among the crew. Captain Bramble, however, was on the watch, and so were his backers; and seeing this, he instantly called one of the ringleaders aft, and bade him sternly to lay his hand to a rope and pull it taut. The man instinctively obeyed at first, subdued by the calm, stern front of the man who addressed him, but in a moment more he ceased and turned towards the officer flatly declining duty, at the same time beckoning the hands forward to come to the quarter-deck. Captain Bramble paused one second of time and repeated his order. It was not obeyed, and in the next instant the man lay a corpse with a bullet through his brains at the feet of his officer! This prompt punishment for a moment checked the action of the rest, but it was only for a moment when they moved aft in a body. "Hold, where you are!" shouted the young but determined commander. "The man who advances another step dies!" All paused, save two of the most daring of the rascals who continued to press on. Captain Ratlin now bade the mates to shoot the first man who came aft unbidden, while he marched a few paces forward, and once more bid them stand. They heeded him not, and the foremost one fell with a bullet though his heart! Captain Ratlin instantly drew a fresh weapon from his bosom and presented it at the other foremost man, "fall back, fall back, you imps of darkness, fall back, I say, or you die!" The crew had not counted on this summary treatment, they were beaten and mastered; the culprit addressed sneaked back among the crew trembling with fear. Captain Ratlin returned to the quarter-deck, received fresh arms from one of the mates, and then calmly began to issue orders for the sailing of the vessel, as though nothing had occurred to interfere with the business routine of the day. Those orders were promptly obeyed. The master spirit there had asserted its control, and established it, too; and a more orderly crew never moored a slave ship on the south side of Cuba, than were soon busily engaged in that duty after the set of sun on the day when this bold attempt at mutiny had occurred. This little affair, which came very near to costing Charles Bramble his life, was in one sense a fortunate one, since it put him on the best of terms with the owners, who had entrusted him with the "Sea Witch," and who now pressed a gratuity of $2000 upon him for his part of the present voyage, and forwarded him safely without expense on his return voyage to England. This additional amount of funds to his already handsome sum of personal property, gave him some $10,000 dollars of ready money, which he took with him to his homestead at Bramble Park. The money enabled him not only to clear the estate of all encumbrances, but also to make his mother, now aged and bed-ridden, comfortable. But he was soon married, and with Helen Huntington, whose estates joined those of Bramble Park, he obtained a large fortune; but best of all, he took to his arms a sweet, intelligent and loving wife. She with whom he had played in childhood amid these very scenes, she whom he had rescued upon the waters of the ocean, she who had loved and reformed him. THE END. LA TARANTULA. BY GIDDINGS H. BALLOU. IT was scarce past the meridian of a warm summer's day, when from the inn of old Gaspar Varni, underneath the heights of Sorento, might have been heard the sound of viols, and the deep notes of the bassoon ringing clear from amidst the clash of merry voices. Music and careless mirth, the never failing concomitants of an Italian holiday, were here in full ascendency; for the birthday of the portly host happening to fall on the anniversary of St. Geronimo, the yearly festival which served to celebrate the two in one, was a matter of no small interest to the villagers. The dining room was filled almost to suffocation, and it were a matter admitting of doubt, whether the chagrined few who chanced by lateness of arrival, or other causes, to be excluded from seats at table, were not to be envied rather than pitied in the endurance of their deprivation. Such a doubt, perhaps, was entertained by an individual dressed in a peasant's frock and a slouched hat, who, pausing in the open doorway, regarded the mixed assembly with a half smile, not wanting a certain superciliousness which in other circumstances would have provoked instant observation. Now, however, the full swing of common enjoyment rendered every one blind to what the looker-on took no trouble to conceal. Nor did he at all lower his disdainful regard, when a veteran clad in a sort of military undress, arose from the opposite side of the tables, and waving a wine-cup in his hand, drew on himself the general attention. "Comrades," he said, "I give to you, Napoleon! my noble master, who, six years ago, delivered me with his own hand the shoulder-knot of a sergeant of the guard. Napoleon!--the soldier's true friend, and the greatest man on earth. Green be his memory forever!" The words were scarce out of his mouth, when a youth, some twenty years of age, sprang up and hastily replied: "What right hast thou, Jean Maret, thus to celebrate in our midst, the praises of our tyrant? Dost thou deem our spirits dead to all generous emotion? A curse on the usurper who burned our country with fire, and poured out the blood of its children like water! May just Heaven pour down indignation on his head!" This speech produced an instant commotion. Angry words were bandied back and forth, and bright steel already flashed in the light, when the sturdy voice of old Gaspar surmounted the din. "What means this tumult?" he cried. "Shall a few wine-warmed words thus set you all agog, my merry men? Come, you forget yourselves in giving way to such causeless rage. And thou, Gulielmo, leave thy saucy quips. How darest thou thus spoil good cheer?" The youth, with a grieved countenance, turned to go. "'Tis not," he said, "that I fear for threats, especially from Master Jean. Yet since thou commandest, I needs must yield." So saying, he passed out of the door, while the tumult having ceased, a whisper went round the room: "Gaspar has a fine daughter; 'tis she who commands through him." The mirth, for a moment rudely stayed, again proceeded. Goblets clinked and wine flowed merrily, till the host, striking his hand on the table, again addressed the company: "Good people and neighbors all," he said, "I pledge you here my future son-in-law. Drink deep then; the wine is good, I trust, and at all events the toast merits our good will." The wine was forthwith lifted to lip, and at the word, the generous liquid, blushing with deeper hue than even did the landlord's jolly nose, was drained to the uttermost drop, and the cups, turned bottom up, were replaced on the board. As the ring of the metal ceased, Master Jean, grizzle-haired and scarred with the marks of war, rose up and grimly smiled around. "Mates," he said, "I am not apt at making fine speeches, though I can feel as many thanks as another. I'll give you then, our jolly host and his sweet daughter. Than he, no better rules the roast between here and the salt sea. And what maiden can compare with her in loveliness?" This speech was received with the most decided applause by the rest of the company, who seemed eager to evince their approbation of all things at present said and done, by steadfast application to the festivities of the occasion. Meantime, far removed from their boisterous cheer, sat within her little chamber the maiden, weeping at thought of the dreaded marriage-day, towards which the hours were rapidly hastening. "O, Gulielmo!" such were the thoughts which she murmured, "shall I be able to support life forever removed from thee? Alas! the fate which so ruthlessly severs our mutual loves!" Meanwhile, Gulielmo roamed the hills, his heart swelling with sadness. What use in longer adherence to home and the lowly shepherd's lot? No, he would no longer tamely submit to poverty and the contempt which it entailed on its victim. The moment was now arrived when he must bid adieu to Rosa, loved in vain, and to Sorento, spot hitherto so loved and lonely. Thus musing, he began to trace on the sandy soil a rude outline, which certainly bore a striking resemblance to Rosa's pretty features. "Well done, Master Gulielmo!" suddenly exclaimed a strange voice. The startled youth looked up, and in so doing cast his eye on a face which seemed not altogether unknown to his remembrance. The stranger possessed a visage bold and finely formed, a piercing eye, and a strongly-marked mouth set beneath a classic nose; while his tawny color told a life exposed to daily wind, and sun, and rain. "Art thou a student of the art which is our country's pride?" continued the latter, "or does love inspire the skill which thou hast here displayed?" "I am no student," Gulielmo replied; "and yet I daily try, in my unknowing way, to counterfeit the forms which I see." "It were pity then," rejoined the other, "that such as thou should idly waste those talents which when duly trained would surely bring their owner fame and wealth. Suppose for instance that some great lord, or other noble patron of the arts, should send thee a couple of years to Rome;--but I forget. Perchance the maid whom thou hast pictured here, might interpose her pretty face to spoil so fair a plan?" "Alas!" said Gulielmo, quickly, "she is not for me. And though I see that you are jesting, I tell you truly that I would go where any chance might lead me, so that I might never see her or Sorento again." "I do not jest," answered the stranger. "Indeed, I know your story already. I was present just now at the inn, when you and Jean Maret fell at variance. And, friend Gulielmo, I know of a certain lord who I am confident will do you the office which your talents require. He is a Russian prince, of generous hand, although of a somewhat rough exterior. Take courage; perchance affairs may have a better turn. And if the Russian, as no doubt he will, shall take thee under his wing, mayhap old Gaspar's purpose may yield some grace to thy ill-prospered love. Hie home then, and wait a little for the flood of fortune. I've faith that thy ill-luck will shortly change to good." The stranger turned away. Gulielmo, in mute surprise, watched his steps a while, and then hastened along the winding path which led him back to his own cottage door. CHAPTER II. PAS SEUL BY MOONLIGHT. The moon hung high in silver light above the village and the quiet fields which lay beyond, when a gallant train came in order down the unfrequented street. Appareled gaily, each cavalier wore roquelaure and belt, and in their midst they bore a prisoner--the veteran Jean. Reaching at length the grassy market-place, they halted and formed a ring, in the midst of which they placed their captive. Some of the number drew from underneath their short cloaks instruments of music, while others cleared their throats as if about to sing. Presently there stepped apart a masked form, who thus gave command in a rude sort of rhyme: "Hola, my merry mountaineers, Prepare a festive lay; Our gallant friend will measure trip While we a song essay." Each other masker thereupon drew a rapier, and turned its point to centre. "Unbind the captive, give him room; Now, friend, pray mind your play. Strike up, my lads, and heed your time, And merrily troll away." At the word, the others commenced in deep, hoarse voices: "An old graybeard a wooing came, "Ha! ha! ha! With plenty of brass, but little brain, Tira la la! Merrily round we go, Merrily. All in a circle O, Cheerily! Right joyful was the gaffer gray, La la la! And who so blithe as he I pray? Tira la la! Merrily round we go. Alas! the change of time and tide, Ah! ha! ha! That gaffer's joy to grief should glide, Tira la la! Merrily round we go." "Trip on, friend Jean," the leader said; "thou laggest wretchedly. Let me spirit thee with this good steel rod; 'twill move thee most famously." Jean Maret, in spite of himself, discovered great agility on this occasion. He could hardly have moved with more readiness in the rustic cotillon among the village lads and lasses. Nevertheless, not a few oaths escaped him, doubly provoked as he was by the composure of his tormentors, and the laughter of the surrounding spectators. But swifter still flew the brisk burden, "Tira la la." "Good people all," the chief now said, "we have piped this man to play, and now that we the pipes have tuned, 'tis fair his purse should pay." "Villain!" replied the veteran, testily, "ye shall not have a doit!" "Good luck, our friend's not satisfied," returned the mask. "And yet we've done our best. Well then, Jean Maret, we will offer you a change. Doubtless you have seen the dance which is inspired by the bite of our famous black spider. Let us see if our good steel may not be able to supply the place of the spider. Come then, my lads, strike up 'La Tarantula.'" Again Jean was forced to display his powers of agility, as flew the music and the accompanying voices, onward and still on, with ever-increasing rapidity. At length his obstinacy was overcome, as much by the absurdity of the affair as its personal inconvenience. "Cease, cease," he cried; "have done with this, and the money you demand shall be forthcoming. A pack of fiends were better companions, I trow, than your blackamoor troop. Let me on, then, and I will lead you to my cash-box, and after you have there satisfied yourselves, I pray you to go your ways like honest thieves, as you are." "Take heed what you say, Jean," replied the chief masker. "We are honest, that is true enough, and we only want a fair payment for our services. Our band never performs for a less price than a thousand crowns, nor will we ask more than this of a worthy soldier like yourself. So lead the way, my friend, we follow close on your steps." With jingling steel and shrilly pipe, the troop retraced its course, till on arriving at the lodging-place of Jean Maret, the latter paid down the needful scot, indulging himself while counting out the coin in various hearty objurgations which seemed to add no little to the amusement of his hearers. Meanwhile, from mouth to mouth, among the villagers, who gathered round the scene, passed the whispered murmur: "Sartello, the bandit chief, and his followers!" The person thus indicated turned to the shrinking crowd, and lifting the mask from his face, he addressed them thus: "Good friends, our play is finished. The players through me, desire to make you their most respectful bow, thanking you for your good company. We rejoice to see that you are pleased with our endeavors for your amusement, and will hope that when next we chance to meet, we may therein be as fortunate as now." At the word, each of the troop made a low obeisance, and with their leader, quickly retreated from the village. By slow degrees, the streets were cleared, though here and there a few lingered along to talk over the occurrences of the night. It was not till near the dawn of morn that the village again became quiet, when in the early dew, a carriage drove swiftly up to the inn, the door of which the coachman, having leaped from his seat, banged with might and main. At length old Gaspar thrust his night-capped head from an upper window. "What means this cursed din?" he angrily exclaimed. "Come down--come down!" the coachman replied, in a gruff voice. "Here is Prince Reklovstt waiting at your door." "Good Heaven!" exclaimed the landlord, withdrawing his head in a fluster. "It can be no common prince, this, with such a jaw-breaking name. Here Francesco, Rosa, wife, all of you! hurry, haste down stairs as quickly as you can!" The household were quickly astir, the doors were unbarred, and Gaspar presented himself before the prince, who had just descended from the carriage. The Russian lord--for any one would have known him as such by his appearance--possessed a long beard, thick eyebrows, and eyes, whose look was chiefly a chilly and impenetrable stare. "He must be monstrous rich," thought Gaspar; "he has such a bearish way with him." The coachman, who seemed also to serve as interpreter, now addressed the host in tolerable Italian, easy enough to be understood, though interspersed now and then with some queer sounding words. "The prince wishes to breakfast. Quick then! bring a turkey, a quart of brandy, a cup of fat, a good cheese pie, and a reindeer's tongue." The landlord was filled with astonishment and respect. "O, servant of a mighty lord!" he said, "our larder is to-day somewhat scant, for crowds of guests have scoured our house of all its choicest fare. But we will give you the very best we have, if you will deign to accept it." The coachman seemed disturbed, but consulted the prince, who answered him with a frown and a growl of foreign words. "Mine host!" rejoined the interpreter, "the prince doth condescend to accept. But be sure, whatever else fails, that the brandy is good." The coachman and his master now engaged themselves in a harsh-sounding conversation, wherein one would have judged that the vowels were far less plentiful than the consonants. Near half an hour thus passed, when--wondrous speed!--a half cooked fowl was placed on the table, together with olives, grapes, and sour brown bread. The Russian lord upon seeing this rare repast spread before him, gave vent to what sounded very like a Sclavonic invective, but nevertheless plunged his knife into the midst of the fowl, and carved and growled, and growled and eat, apparently bent on the most murderous havoc. Meantime, his servant turned to Gaspar. "The prince hath heard one of your village youths, by name, Gulielmo Massani, commended much for his high talent and great pictorial skill." "Ah!" murmured Gaspar, to himself, "heard one ever such elegant discourse?" "The prince last evening met upon the road an old acquaintance, who told him much concerning this lad; recounted his whole history, and told how he drew wonderful resemblances of birds, and beasts, and men." "'Tis true," replied Gaspar. "Strange that I should never have thought of it before." "So, therefore, the prince offers to patronize the gifted youth, and send him a couple of years or more to Rome, where he will be able to make himself a perfect artist, and get fortune at such a rate that he can soon roll in gold." "San Dominic!" said the host; "surely Gulielmo's luck has turned. They say that Jean, last night, was robbed of more than half his store, and so, I do not know--but Rosa--" "You're right," interrupted the other speaker. "Two hundred crowns are yours, provided Rosa waits two years against Gulielmo's safe return." "Ahem!" exclaimed the somewhat surprised landlord. "How comes it that you know of this? And yet the girl grieves sorely. I will take you at your word." The courier nodded and spake to his master, who, with a pompous air, told in his open hand the glittering gold, which was seen transferred to Gaspar's eager grasp. "And now where is this same Gulielmo?" inquired the courier. "Bring him hither as quickly as possible. I doubt not, when he hears of his advancement, that he will leap for joy." The youth presently arrived. The courier informed him of the matter in hand, while the prince nodded his head most graciously, and smiled so grim a smile that all the servants looked on dismayed. "Haste," said the courier to Gulielmo, "pack up your knapsack as quickly as may be, and bid Rosa adieu, for it is time that we were on the road for Rome. There thou shalt undertake the painter's art, and work for fame and bread. And, if all works prosperously, you shall soon be able to wed the fairest maid of all the land." An hour passed; the carriage drew up before the inn door, the host delivered his most obsequious bow, fair Rosa bade farewell to her lover, the prince and Gulielmo entered the stately vehicle, and, with a loud crack of the coachman's whip, the travellers set out for Rome. CHAPTER III. THE STUDENT'S RETURN. THE two years had elapsed, when on a bright June afternoon, a weary pilgrim halted within a grove which overlooked the village of Sorento. He gazed around for a moment, as if in expectation of some one, and then sat down upon a mossy stone. "It was here," said he, "that he bade me wait on my return. And yet--" "He is with you," said Sartello, leaving the scraggy laurel behind which he had concealed himself. "What cheer brings thou from Rome, my gallant lad'? Certes, thy look is loftier and manlier now, whatever fortune thou hast had." "Kind friend," replied the youth, "I may say that I have had both good and ill fortune; though mostly good, if thou dost agree with my opinion. I bring, through intercession of the pope, a pardon from our king. And thou and thine, if henceforth ye are pleased to remain at peace, will be accepted by the law which now holds your lives forfeit." Sartello grasped with a vice-like pressure the hand which the youth held out. "I am well repaid, Gulielmo, for what little I have done in thy behalf, since thou hast thus brought me my heart's desire. No more will we roam the land, outlaws from honest men. We will till and toil, and freely live, scathless and void of care. But of thyself, what speed? say quickly." The youth frankly smiled. "My pocket is rather low," he said, "although my hopes are not. I have gained some honor, whatever its worth may be. And now, how fares the gentle maid whom I so long to see?" "Ah," replied Sartello, shaking his head sadly, "these women are indeed a puzzle. I fear much that Rosa's mind has changed since your departure. Absence, as the poets say, is love's worst bane. But let her go, Gulielmo; fairer charms than hers will soon ease your pain." Gulielmo stood for a moment as colorless as marble. "Is this the reward," he said, at length, "of all my weary toil?" "Pray comfort yourself," replied his friend. "I may as well tell you the worst at once. They say that her wedding-dress is prepared. Jean Maret's gold, and the importunities of old Gaspar, have been too much, fancy, for her fickle resolution." A single tear fell from Gulielmo, notwithstanding the proud compressure of his lips. "Let it be so," said he. "I will make no words about it. Neither will I shun her sight. I will face it out, and shame them who think to flout me thus." "Bravo, my lad!" exclaimed Sartello. "I find that you are of the true stuff. So come along; the hour is already near, when she is to change her name. I feared at first to tell you the tale, but am glad to learn that my fears were needless." Gulielmo's burning cheek might have sown the pain which raged within his breast: but, nevertheless, he accompanied Sartello with a firm and confident stop till they reached the inn where the guests had already begun to assemble. In the porch, by the side of Jean Maret, sat Rosa, with a few flowers in her hair, her countenance as sweet to view as the first blush of a May morn. But when she met the fiery glance which Gulielmo cast upon her, she seemed abashed, and half turned toward her companion, with a silent appeal of the eyes. The priest now arrived, and all was made ready, Gulielmo looking on with a heated brain, and a feverish sickness gnawing at his heart. He was only able to see a single lovely face, in which a sudden sadness seemed to dim its former smiling grace. "Why wait we?" bluffly exclaimed Jean Maret. "The priest awaits, the bride is ready. Gulielmo Massani, come forward; Rosa has chosen you as bridesman." "Scoundrel!" replied Gulielmo, "dare no jests with me, else your life may fail you before your wedding is over." "My wedding may be near at hand," returned Jean; "but I fear much that Rosa will hardly be my bride. Go, fair maid, and lead this stubborn youth hither. If all else fail, I think that thou wilt be able to hold him captive." Rosa sprang from the porch to meet Gulielmo. Flinging her lily arms about his neck, her head reclining on his breast: "Thou art mine," she said; "whether poor or rich, it is the same to me. Pardon this deceit; it was not my will to give thee needless pain." "How is this?" Gulielmo was with difficulty able to say. "Your bridal--" "Come, your place!" interrupted Jean. "There, take her hand. How dull you are! It seems to me that after all I should make the readiest groom of the two." "Not so!" exclaimed Gulielmo. "But I must not allow you to be deceived, however little my tale may profit me." "Hold then a moment," Sartello cried. "Your hand, friend Jean; I think you bear no ill-will. Or if you do, the settlement we'll postpone, till this present affair shall be concluded. Here, then, in this bag which I deliver you, you will find a thousand crowns, a forced loan to aid Gulielmo's studious years; and with the sum, five hundred crowns by way of interest. I enacted the Russian on a certain occasion,--a counterfeit lord,--and yet not altogether so, as you will own when you have heard my story. Four years ago, I held the title of Prince of Cornaro, where I, in the midst of a beautiful country, upheld the privileges of a lord. But one luckless day I joined a secret band, which sought to change the rule by which Italy was swayed. We failed, and I was forced to fly my native towers, to roam the mountain depths as the chief of lawless men. My wide estates were confiscated to the service of the crown. But this noble youth has now obtained for me a full pardon from the king for all past misdeeds. The sovereign also freely restores me to my former rank and possessions." He ceased, and every voice was raised in applause. "Hail, Prince of Cornaro!" was the general exclamation. "Prince," cried Jean Maret, "I give you thanks for the thousand crowns. The odd five hundred I will give towards Rosa's dowry." "Nay," rejoined the prince; "the half thou mayst; it is all that thou canst be permitted, for I desire to find some room to add to Rosa's store." "Ha!" said old Gaspar, with a laugh. "Although not rich, her suitor is yet certain he brings her riches." "Good sir," replied Gulielmo, "I can show you but little coin, it is true; yet you may perceive some gain will be mine if you but choose to read this obligation." Thereupon he delivered a slip of parchment into the hand of the host, who turning it once or twice round in the vain attempt to decipher its intention, passed it to the prince, saying: "I pray your excellency to read it. My eyes are somewhat weak, and indeed my scholarship is not so good as it once was." "Know all (read the prince, after naming the date), that I will pay to order of Gulielmo Massani, or his lawful heirs, four thousand crowns, with interest, as soon hereafter as demand may be made. BENVOGLIO." "The Cardinal Benvoglio," said the prince. "Indeed, the lad hath prospered well. But come, the wedding lags. First, let us tie this youthful pair, and after that we'll join the revel on the green, where Jean and I will teach you all how to dance 'LA TARANTULA.'" THE GOLDSMITH OF PARIS. BY H. W. LORING. IN the good old days of France the fair, when no one dared question the divine right of the sovereign, or the purity of the church,--when the rights of the feudal seigneurs were unchallenged, and they could head or hang, mutilate or quarter their vassals at their pleasure,--when freedom was a word as unmeaning as it is now tinder his sacred majesty, Napoleon the Third, there came to the capital, from Touraine, an artizan, named Anseau, who was as cunning in his trade of goldsmith as Benvenuto Cellini, the half-mad artificer of Florence. He became a burgess of Paris, and a subject of the king, whose high protection he purchased by many presents, both of works of art and good red gold. He inhabited a house built by himself, near the church of St. Leu, in the Rue St. Denys, where his forge was well known to half the amateurs of fine jewelry. He was a man of pure morals and persevering industry; always laboring, always improving, constantly learning new secrets and new receipts, and seeking everywhere for new fashions and devices to attract and gratify his customers. When the night was far advanced, the soldiers of the guard and the revellers returning from their carousals, always saw a lighted lamp at the casement of the goldsmith's workshop, where he was hammering, carving, chiseling and filing,--in a word, laboring at those marvels of ingenuity and toil which made the delight of the ladies and the minions of the court. He was a man who lived in the fear of God, and in a wholesome dread of robbers, nobles, and noise. He was gentle and moderate of speech, courteous to noble, monk and burgess, so that he might be said to have no enemy. Claude Anseau was strongly built. His arms were rounded and muscular, and his hand had the grip of an iron vice. His broad shoulders reminded the learned of the giant Atlas; his white teeth seemed as if they were formed for masticating iron. His countenance, though placid, was full of resolution, and his glance was so keen that it might have melted gold, though the limpid lustre of his eyes tempered their burning ardor. In a word, though a peaceable man, the goldsmith was not one to be insulted with impunity, and perhaps it was a knowledge of his physical qualities that secured him from attack in those stormy days of ruffianly violence. Yet sometimes, in spite of his accumulating wealth and tranquil life, the loneliness of the goldsmith made him restless. He was not insensible to beauty, and often, as he wrought a wedding ring for the finger of some fair damsel, he thought with what delight he could forge one for some gentle creature who would love him for himself and not for the riches that called him lord. Then he would sally forth and hie to the river-side, and pass long hours in the dreamy reveries of an artist. One day as he was strolling, in this tender frame of mind, along the left bank of the Seine, he came to the meadow afterwards called the Pre aux Clercs, which was then in the domain of the Abbey of St. Germain, and not in that of the University. There, finding himself in the open fields, he encountered a poor girl, who addressed him with the simple salutation:--"God save you, my lord!" The musical intonation of her voice, chiming in with the melodious images that then filled the goldsmith's busy brain, impressed him so pleasantly that he turned, and saw that the damsel was holding a cow by a tether, while it was browsing the rank grass that grew upon the borders of a ditch. "My child," said he, "how is it that you are pasturing your cow on the Sabbath? Know you not that it is forbidden, and that you are in danger of imprisonment?" "My lord," replied the girl, casting down her eyes, "I have nothing to fear, because I belong to the abbey. My lord abbot has given us license to feed our cow here after sunset." "Then you love your cow better than the safety of your soul," said the goldsmith. "Of a truth, my lord, the animal furnishes half our subsistence." "I marvel," said the good goldsmith, "to see you thus poorly clad and barefoot on the Sabbath. Thou art fair to look upon, and thou must needs have suitors from the city." "Nay, my lord," replied the girl, showing a bracelet that clasped her rounded left arm; "I belong to the abbey." And she cast so sad a look on the good burgess that his heart sank within him. "How is this?" he resumed,--and he touched the bracelet, whereon were engraven the arms of the Abbey of St. Germain. "My lord, I am the daughter of a serf. Thus, whoever should unite himself to me in marriage would become a serf himself, were he a burgess of Paris, and would belong, body and goods, to the abbey. For this reason I am shunned by every one. But it is not this that saddens me--it is the dread of being married to a serf by command of my lord abbot, to perpetuate a race of slaves. Were I the fairest in the land, lovers would avoid me like the plague." "And how old are you, my dear?" asked the goldsmith. "I know not, my lord," replied the girl; "but my lord abbot has it written down." This great misery touched the heart of the good man, who for a long time had himself eaten the bread of misfortune. He conformed his pace to that of the girl, and they moved in this way towards the river in perfect silence. The burgess looked on her fair brow, her regal form, her dusty but delicately-formed feet, and the sweet countenance which seemed the true portrait of St. Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris. "You have a fine cow," said the goldsmith. "Would you like a little milk?" replied she. "These early days of May are so warm, and you are so far from the city." In fact, the shy was cloudless and burned like a forge. This simple offer, made without the hope of a return, the only gift in the power of the poor girl, touched the heart of the goldsmith, and he wished that he cold see her on a throne and all Paris at her feet. "No, ma mie," replied he; "I am not thirsty--but I would that I could free you." "It cannot be; and I shall die the property of the abbey. For a long time we have lived here, from father to son, from mother to daughter. Like my poor ancestors, I shall pass my days upon this land, for the abbot does not loose his prey." "What!" cried the goldsmith, "has no gallant been tempted by your bright eyes to buy your liberty, as I bought mine of the king?" "Truly, it would cost too much. Therefore those I pleased at first sight went at they came." "And you never thought of fleeing to another country with a lover, on a fleet courser?" "O, yes. But, my lord, if I were taken I should lose my life, and my lover, if he were a lord, his land. I am not worth such sacrifice. Then the arms of the abbey are longer than my feet are swift. Besides, I live here, in obedience to Heaven that has placed me here." "And what does your father, maiden?" "He is a vine-dresser, in the gardens of the abbey." "And your mother?" "She is a laundress." "And what is your name?" "I have no name, my lord. My father was baptized Etienne, my dear mother is la Etienne, and I am Tiennette, at your service." "Tiennette," said the goldsmith, "never has maiden pleased me as thou dost. Hence, as I saw thee at the moment when I was firmly resolved to take a helpmate, I think I see a special providence in our meeting, and if I am not unpleasing in thine eyes, I pray thee to accept me a lover." The girl cast down her eyes. These words were uttered in such a sort, with tone so grave and manner so penetrating, that Tiennette wept. "No, my lord," replied she, "I should bring you a thousand troubles and an evil fortune. For a poor serf, it is enough that I have heard your generous proffer." "Ah!" cried Claude, "you know not with whom you have to deal." He crossed himself, clasped his hands, and said:--"I here vow to Saint Eloi, under whose protection is my noble craft, to make two inches of enamelled silver, adorned with the utmost labor I can bestow. One shall be for the statue of my lady the virgin, and the other for my patron saint, if I succeed, to the end that I may give thanks for the emancipation of Tiennette, here present, and for whom I pray their high assistance. Moreover, I vow, by my eternal salvation, to prosecute this enterprise with courage, to expend therein all that I possess, and to abandon it only with my life. Heaven hath heard me, and thou, fair one," he added, turning to the girl. "Ah, my lord! My cow is running across the field," cried she weeping, at the knees of the good man. "I will love you all my life--but recall your vow." "Let us seek the cow," said the goldsmith, raising her, without daring to imprint a kiss upon her lips. "Yes," said she, "for I shall be beaten." The goldsmith ran after the cow, which recked little of their loves. But she was seized by the horns, and held in the grasp of Claude as in an iron vice. For a trifle he would have hurled her into the air. "Farewell, dearest. If you go into the city, come to my house, near St. Leu. I am called Master Anseau, and am the goldsmith of our seigneur, the king of France, at the sign of St. Eloi. Promise me to be in this field the next Sabbath, and I will not fail to come, though it were raining halberts." "I will, my lord. And, in the meanwhile, my prayers shall ascend to heaven for your welfare." There she remained standing, like a saint carved in stone, stirring not, until she could no longer see the burgess, who retired with slow steps, turning every now and then to look upon her. And even when he was long lost to sight, she remained there until nightfall, lost in reverie, and not certain whether what had happened was a dream or bright reality. It was late when she returned home, where she was beaten for her tardiness,--but she did not feel the blows. The good burgess, on his part, lost his appetite, closed his shop, and wandered about, thinking only of the maiden of St. Germain, seeing her image everywhere. On the morrow, he took his way towards the abbey, in great apprehension, but still determined to speak to my lord abbot. But as he bethought him that it would be most prudent to put himself under the protection of some powerful courtier, he retraced his steps, and sought out the royal chamberlain, whose favor he had gained by various courtesies, and especially by the gift of a rare chain to the lady whom he loved. The chamberlain readily promised his assistance, had his horse saddled and a hackney made ready for the goldsmith, with whom he came presently to the abbey, and demanded to see the abbot, who was then Monseigneur Hugo de Senecterre, and was ninety-three years old. Being come into the hall, with the goldsmith, who was trembling in expectation of his doom, the chamberlain prayed the Abbot Hugo to grant him a favor in advance, which could be easily done, and would do him pleasure. Whereat, the wily abbot shook his head, and replied that it was expressly forbidden by the canons to plight one's faith in this manner. "The matter is this, then, my dear father," said the chamberlain. "The goldsmith of the court, here, has conceived a great love for a girl belonging to the abbey, and I charge you, as you would have me grant the favors you may seek hereafter, to liberate this girl." "Who is she?" asked the abbot of the burgess. "She is named Tiennette," replied the goldsmith, timidly. "Oh! ho!" said the good old Hugo, smiling. "Then the bait has brought us a good fish. This in a grave case, and I cannot decide it alone." "I know, father, what these words are worth," said the chamberlain, frowning. "Beau sire," replied the abbot, "do you know what the girl is worth?" The abbot sent for Tiennette, telling his clerk to dress her in her best clothes, and make her as brave as possible. "Your love is in danger," said the chamberlain to the goldsmith, drawing him one side. "Abandon this fancy; you will find everywhere, even at court, young and pretty women who will willingly accept your hand, and the king will help you to acquire an estate and title--you have gold enough." The goldsmith shook his head. "I have made my choice, and embarked on my adventure," said he. "Then you must purchase the manumission of this girl. I know the monks. With them, money can accomplish everything." "My lord," said the goldsmith to the abbot, turning towards him, "you have it in charge and trust to represent here on earth the bounty of Providence, which is always kind to us, and has infinite treasures of mercy for our miseries. Now I will enshrine you, for the rest of my days, each night and morning in my prayers, if you will aid me to obtain this girl in marriage. And I will fashion you a box to enclose the holy Eucharist, so cunningly wrought, and so enriched with gold and precious stones, and figures of winged angels, that another such shall never be in Christendom,--it shall remain unique, shall rejoice your eyes, and so glorify your altar that the people of the city, foreign lords--all, shall hasten to see it, so wondrous shall it be." "My son," replied the abbot, "you have lost your senses. If you are resolved to have this girl in wedlock, your property and person will escheat to the chapter of the abbey." "Yes, my lord, I am devoted to this poor girl, and more touched by her misery and truly Christian heart, than by her personal perfections. But I am," said he, with tears in his eyes, "yet more astonished at your hardness, and I say it, though I know my fate is in your hands. Yes, my lord, I know the law. Thus, if my goods must fall into your possession, if I become a serf, if I lose my home and my citizenship, I shall yet keep the skill developed by my culture and my studies, and which lies here," he added, touching his forehead, "in a place where God alone, besides myself, is master. And your whole abbey cannot purchase the creation of my brain. You will have my body and my wife, but nothing can give you my genius, not even tortures, for I am stronger than iron is hard, and more patient than suffering is great." Having said this, the goldsmith, enraged at the calmness of the abbot, who seemed resolved to secure the good man's doubloons to the abbey, dealt such a blow with his fist on an oaken chair, it flew in pieces as if struck by a sledge-hammer. "See, my lord, what a serf you will have, and how of an artificer of divine things you will make a draught-horse." "My son," replied the abbot, calmly, "you have wrongfully broken mine oaken chair and lightly judged my heart. This girl belongs to the abbey, and not to me. I am the faithful administrator of the rights and usages of this glorious monastery. Although I may, indeed, liberate this girl and her heirs, I owe an account to God and to the abbey. Now, since there has been here an altar, serfs and monks, id est, from time immemorial, never has there been an instance of a burgess becoming the property of the abbey by marriage with a serf. Hence, need there is of exercising this right, that it may not be lost, effete and obsolete, and fall into desuetude, the which would occasion troubles manifold. And this is of greater advantage for the state and for the abbey than your boxes, however beautiful they may be, seeing that we have a fund which will enable us to purchase jewels and bravery, and that no money can establish customs and laws. I appeal to my lord, the king's chamberlain, who is witness of the pains infinite our sovereign taketh each day to do battle for the establishment of his ordinances." "This is to shut my mouth," said the chamberlain. The goldsmith, who was no great clerk, remained silent and pensive. Hereupon came Tiennette, clad in glorious apparel, wearing a robe of white wool, with her hair tastefully dressed, and, withal, so royally beautiful, that the goldsmith was petrified with ecstasy, and the chamberlain confessed that he had never seen so perfect a creature. Then, thinking that there was too great danger to the goldsmith in this spectacle, he carried him off to the city, and begged him to think no more of the affair, since the abbey would never yield so beautiful a prize. In fact, the chapter signified to the poor lover that, if he married this girl, he must resolve to abandon his property and house to the abbey, and to acknowledge himself a serf; and that then, by special grace, the abbey would allow him to remain in his house, on condition of his furnishing an inventory of his goods, of his paying a tribute every year, and coming annually, for a fortnight, to lodge in a burg appertaining to the domain, in order to make act of serfdom. The goldsmith, to whom every one spoke of the obstinacy of the monks, saw plainly that the abbey would adhere inflexibly to this sentence, and was driven to the verge of despair. At one time he thought of setting fire to the four corners of the monastery,--at another, he proposed to inveigle the abbot into some place where he might torment him till he signed the manumission papers of Tiennette,--in fine, he projected a thousand schemes, which all evaporated into air. But, after many lamentations, he thought he would carry off the girl to some secure place, whence nothing could draw him, and made his preparations in consequence, thinking that, once out of the kingdom, his friends or the sovereign could manage the monks and bring them to reason. The good man reckoned without his host, for, on going to the meadow, he missed Tiennette, and learned that she was kept in the abbey so rigorously, that, to gain possession of her, he would have to besiege the monastery. Then master Anseau rent the air with complaints and lamentations, and, throughout Paris, the citizens and housewives spoke of nothing but this adventure, the noise of which was such, that the king, meeting the old abbot at court, asked him why, in this juncture, he did not yield to the great love of his goldsmith, and practise a little Christian charity. "Because, my lord," replied the priest, "all rights are linked together, like the part of a suit of armor, and if one fail, the whole falls to pieces. If this girl were taken from us, against our will, and the usage were not observed, soon your subjects would deprive you of your crown, and great seditions would arise in all parts, to the end of abolishing the tithes and taxes which press so heavily upon the people." The king was silenced. Every one was anxious to learn the end of this adventure. So great was the curiosity, that several lords wagered that the goldsmith would abandon his suit, while the ladies took the opposite side. The goldsmith having complained with tears to the queen that the monks had deprived him of the sight of his beloved, she thought it detestable and oppressive. Whereupon, pursuant to her command, the goldsmith was allowed to go daily to the parlor of the abbey, where he saw Tiennette; but always in the company of an aged monk, and attired in true magnificence, like a lady. It was with great difficulty that he persuaded her to accept the sacrifice he was compelled to make of his liberty, but she finally consented. When the city was made acquainted with the submission of the goldsmith, who, for the love of his lady, abandoned his fortune and his liberty, every one was anxious to see him. The ladies of the court encumbered themselves with jewels they did not need, to make a pretext for talking with him. But if some of them approached Tiennette in beauty, none possessed her heart. At last, at the approach of the hour of servitude and love, Anseau melted all his gold into a royal crown, which he inlaid with all his pearls and diamonds; then coming secretly to the queen, he gave it into her hands, saying: "My lady, I know not in whose hands to trust my faith and fortune but yours. To-morrow everything found in my house will become the property of those accursed monks, who have no pity on me. Deign, then, to take care of this. It is a poor return for the pleasure I enjoyed by your means, of seeing her I love, since no treasure is worth one of her glances. I know not what will become of me--but if, one day, my children become free, I have a faith in your generosity as a woman and a queen." "Well said, good man," replied the queen. "The abbey may one day have need of my assistance, and then I will remember this." There was an immense crowd in the abbey church at the espousals of Tiennette, to whom the queen presented a wedding dress, and whom the king authorized to wear earrings and jewels. When the handsome couple came from the abbey to the lodgings of Anseau, who had become a serf, near St. Leu, there were torches at the windows to sec them pass, and in the street two lines of people, as at a royal progress. The poor husband had wrought a silver bracelet, which he wore upon his left arm, in token of his belonging to the abbey of St. Germain. Then, notwithstanding his servitude, they cried, "Noel, Noel!" as to a new king. And the good man saluted courteously, happy as a lover, and pleased with the homage each one paid to the grace and modesty of Tiennette. Then the good goldsmith found green branches, and a crown of bluettes on his doorposts, and the principal persons of the quarter were all there, who, to do him honor, saluted him with music, and cried out, "You will always be a noble man, in spite of the abbey!" Tiennette was delighted with her handsome lodgings, and the crowd of customers who came and went, delighted with her charms. The honey-moon passed, there came one day, in great pomp, old abbot Hugo, their lord and master, who entered the house, which belonged no more to the goldsmith, but to the chapter, and, being there, said to the newly married pair: "My children, you are free, and quit of all claims on the part of the abbey. And I must tell you that, from the first, I was greatly moved with the love which linked you to each other. Thus, the rights of the abbey having been recognized, I determined to complete your joy, after having proved your loyalty. And this manumission shall cost you nothing." Having said this, he touched them lightly on the cheeks, and they kneeled at his feet and wept for joy. The goldsmith apprised the people who had collected in the street of the bounty and blessing of the good abbot Hugo. Then, in great honor, Anseau held the bridle of his mare, as far as the gate of Bussy. On the way, having taken a sack of money with him, he threw the pieces to the poor and suffering, crying: "Largesse! largesse to God! God save and guard the abbey! Long live the good Lord Hugo!" The abbot, of course, was severely reproached by his chapter, who had opened their jaws to devour the rich booty. Thus, a year afterwards, the good man Hugo falling sick, his prior told him that it was a punishment of Heaven, because he had neglected their sacred interests. "If I judge this man aright," replied the abbot, "he will remember what he owes us." In fact, this day happening to be the anniversary of the marriage, a monk came to announce that the goldsmith begged his benefactor to receive him. When he appeared in the hall where the abbot was, he displayed two marvellous caskets, which, from that time, no workman has surpassed in any place of the Christian world, and which were called "the vow of perseverance in love." These two treasures are, as every one knows, placed on the high altar of the church; and are judged to be of inestimable workmanship, since the goldsmith had expended all he had on them. Nevertheless, this gift, instead of emptying his treasury, filled it to overflowing, because it so increased his fame and profits that he was able to purchase broad lands and letters of nobility, and founded the house of Anseau, which has since been in high honor in Touraine. MISS HENDERSON'S THANKSGIVING DAY. BY HORATIO ALGER, JR. THANKSGIVING day dawned clearly and frostily upon the little village of Castleton Hollow. The stage, which connected daily with the nearest railroad station--for as yet Castleton Hollow had not arrived at the dignity of one of its own--came fully freighted both inside and out. There were children and children's children, who, in the pursuit of fortune, had strayed away from the homes where they first saw the light, but who were now returning to revive around the old familiar hearth the associations and recollections of their early days. Great were the preparations among the housewives of Castleton Hollow. That must indeed be a poor household which, on this occasion, could not boast its turkey and plum pudding, those well-established dishes, not to mention its long rows of pies--apple, mince and pumpkin--wherewith the Thanksgiving board is wont to be garnished. But it is not of the households generally that I propose to speak. Let the reader accompany me in imagination to a rather prim-looking brick mansion, situated on the principal street, but at some distance back, being separated from it by a front yard. Between this yard and the fence, ran a prim-looking hedge of very formal cut, being cropped in the most careful manner, lest one twig should by chance have the presumption to grow higher than its kindred. It was a two story house, containing in each story one room on either side of the front door, making, of course, four in all. If we go in, we shall find the outward primness well supported by the appearance of things within. In the front parlor--we may peep through the door, but it would be high treason in the present moistened state of our boots, to step within its sacred precincts--there are six high backed chairs standing in state, two at each window. One can easily see from the general arrangement of the furniture, that from romping children, unceremonious kittens, and unhallowed intruders generally, this room is most sacredly guarded. Without speaking particularly of the other rooms, which, though not furnished in so stately a manner, bear a family resemblance to "the best room," we will usher the reader into the opposite room, where he will find the owner and occupant of this prim-looking residence. Courteous reader, Miss Hetty Henderson. Miss Hetty Henderson, let me make you acquainted with this lady (or gentleman), who is desirous of knowing you better. Miss Hetty Henderson, with whom the reader has just passed through the ceremony of introduction, is a maiden of some thirty-five summers, attired in a sober-looking dress, of irreproachable neatness, but most formal cut. She is the only occupant of the house, of which likewise she is proprietor. Her father, who was the village physician, died some ten years since, leaving to Hetty, or perhaps I should give her full name, Henrietta, his only child, the house in which he lived, and some four thousand dollars in bank stock, on the income of which she lived very comfortably. Somehow, Miss Hetty had never married, though, such is the mercenary nature of man, the rumor of her inheritance brought to her feet several suitors. But Miss Hetty had resolved never to marry--at least, this was her invariable answer to matrimonial offers, and so after a time it came to be understood that she was fixed for life--an old maid. What reasons impelled her to this course were not known, but possibly the reader will be furnished with a clue before he finishes this narrative. Meanwhile, the invariable effect of a single and solitary life combined, attended Hetty. She grow precise, prim and methodical to a painful degree. It would have been quite a relish if one could have detected a stray thread even upon her well swept carpet, but such was never the case. On this particular day--this Thanksgiving day of which we are speaking--Miss Hetty had completed her culinary preparations, that is, she had stuffed her turkey, and put it in the oven, and kneaded her pudding, for, though but one would be present at the dinner, and that herself, her conscience would not have acquitted her, if she had not made all the preparations to which she had been accustomed on such occasions. This done, she sat down to her knitting, casting a glance every now and then at the oven to make sure that all was going on well. It was a quiet morning, and Miss Hetty began to think to the clicking of her knitting needles. "After all," thought she, "it's rather solitary taking dinner alone, and that on Thanksgiving day. I remember a long time ago, when my father was living, and my brothers and sisters, what a merry time we used to have round eth table. But they are all dead, and I--I alone am left!" Miss Hetty sighed, but after a while the recollections of those old times returned. She tried to shake them off, but they had a fascination about them after all, and would not go at her bidding. "There used to be another there," thought she, "Nick Anderson. He, too, I fear, is dead." Hetty heaved a thoughtful sigh, and a faint color came into her cheeks. She had reason. This Nicholas Anderson had been a medical student, apprenticed to her father, or rather placed with him to be prepared for his profession. He was, perhaps, a year older than Hetty, and had regarded her with more than ordinary warmth of affection. He had, in fact, proposed to her, and had been conditionally accepted, on a year's probation. The trouble was, he was a little disposed to be wild, and being naturally of a lively and careless temperament, did not exercise sufficient discrimination in the choice of his associates. Hetty had loved him as warmly as one of her nature could love. She was not one who would be drawn away beyond the dictates of reason and judgment by the force of affection. Still it was not without a feeling of deep sorrow--deeper than her calm manner led him to suspect--that at the end of the year's probation, she informed Anderson that the result of his trial was not favorable to his suit, and that henceforth he must give up all thoughts of her. To his vehement asseverations, promises and protestations, she returned the same steady and inflexible answer, and, at the close of the interview, he left her, quite as full of indignation against her as of grief for his rejection. That night his clothing was packed up, and lowered from the window, and when the next morning dawned it was found that he had left the house, and as was intimated in a slight note pencilled and left on the table in his room, never to return again. While Miss Henderson's mind was far back in the past, she had not observed the approach of a man, shabbily attired, accompanied by a little girl, apparently some eight years of age. The man's face bore the impress of many cares and hardships. The little girl was of delicate appearance, and an occasional shiver showed that her garments were too thin to protect her sufficiently from the inclemency of the weather. "This is the place, Henrietta," said the traveller at length, pausing at the head of the gravelled walk which led up to the front door of the prim-looking brick house. Together they entered, and a moment afterwards, just as Miss Hetty was preparing to lay the cloth for dinner, a knock sounded through the house. "Goodness!" said Miss Hetty, fluttered, "who can it be that wants to see me at this hour?" Smoothing down her apron, and giving a look at the glass to make sure that her hair was in order, she hastened to the door. "Will it be asking too much, madam, to request a seat by your fire for myself and little girl for a few moments? It is very cold." Miss Hetty could feel that it was cold. Somehow, too, the appealing expression of the little girl's face touched her, so she threw the door wide open, and bade them enter. Miss Hetty went on preparing the table for dinner. A most delightful odor issued from the oven, one door of which was open, lest the turkey should overdo. Miss Hetty could not help observing the wistful glance cast by that little girl towards the tempting dish as she placed it on the table. "Poor little creature," thought she, "I suppose it is a long time since she has had a good dinner." Then the thought struck her: "Here I am alone to eat all this. There is plenty enough for half a dozen. How much these poor people would relish it." By this time the table was arranged. "Sir," said she, turning to the traveller, "you look as if you were hungry as well as cold. If you and your little daughter would like to sit up, I should be happy to have you." "Thank you, madam," was the grateful reply. "We are hungry, and shall be much indebted to your kindness." It was rather a novel situation for Miss Hetty, sitting at the head of the table, dispensing food to others beside herself. There was something rather agreeable about it. "Will you have some of the dressing, little girl--I have to call you that, for I don't know your name," she added, in an inquiring tone. "Her name is Henrietta, but I generally call her Hetty," said the traveller. "What!" said Miss Hetty, dropping the spoon in surprise. "She was named after a very dear friend of mine," said he, sighing. "May I ask," said Miss Hetty, with excusable curiosity, "what was the name of this friend. I begin to feel quite an interest in your little girl," she added, half apologetically. "Her name was Henrietta Henderson," said the stranger. "Why, that is my name," ejaculated Miss Hetty. "And she was named after you," said the stranger, composedly. "Why, who in the world are you?" she asked, her heart beginning to beat unwontedly fast. "Then you don't remember me?" said he, rising, and looking steadily at Miss Hetty. "Yet you knew me well in bygone days--none better. At one time it was thought you would have joined your destiny to mine--" "Nick Anderson!" said Miss Hetty, rising in confusion. "You are right. You rejected me, because you did not feel secure of my principles. The next day, in despair at your refusal, I left the house, and, ere forty-eight hours had passed, was on my way to India. I had not formed the design of going to India in particular, but in my then state of mind I cared not whither I went. One resolution I formed, that I would prove by my conduct that your apprehensions were ill-founded. I got into a profitable business. In time I married--not that I had forgotten you, but that I was solitary and needed companionship. I had ceased to hope for yours. By-and-by a daughter was born. True to my old love, I named her Hetty, and pleased myself with the thought that she bore some resemblance to you. Since then, my wife has died, misfortunes have come upon me, and I found myself deprived of all my property. Then came yearnings for my native soil. I have returned, as you see, not as I departed, but poor and careworn." While Nicholas was speaking, Miss Hetty's mind was filled with conflicting emotions. At length, extending her hand frankly, she said: "I feel that I was too hasty, Nicholas. I should have tried you longer. But at least I may repair my injustice. I have enough for us all. You shall come and live with me." "I can only accept your generous offer on one condition," said Nicholas. "And what is that?" "That you will be my wife!" A vivid blush came over Miss Hetty's countenance. She couldn't think of such a thing, she said. Nevertheless, an hour afterwards the two united lovers had fixed upon the marriage day. The house does not look so prim as it used to do. The yard is redolent with many fragrant flowers; the front door is half open, revealing a little girl playing with a kitten. "Hetty," says a matronly lady, "you have got the ball of yarn all over the floor. What would your father say if he should see it?" "Never mind, mother, it was only kitty that did it." Marriage has filled up a void in the heart of Miss Hetty. Though not so prim, or perhaps careful, as she used to be, she is a good deal happier. Three hearts are filled with thankfulness at every return of MISS HENDERSON'S THANKSGIVING DAY. THE FIREMAN. BY MISS M. C. MONTAIGNE. IN one of the old-fashioned mansions which stand, or stood, on Broadway, lived Alderman Edgerton. Nothing could have induced Miss May Edgerton to reside six months in the old brick house had it not been inhabited by her grandmother before her, and been built by her great-grandfather. As it was, she had a real affection for the antiquated place, with its curiously-carved door-knocker, its oaken staircase, and broad chimneys with their heavy franklins. She was a sweet, wild, restless little butterfly, with beauty enough to make her the heroine of the most extravagant romance, and good as she was beautiful. Little May had never known a sorrow, and in fact existence had but one bugbear for her--that was, the fates in the shape of her parents, had decreed that she should not marry, nor engage herself positively, until she had met a certain young gentleman, upon whom like commands had been imposed by his equally solicitous parents. The name, it must be confessed, impressed May favorably--Walter Cunningham; there was something manly about it, and she spent more time than she would like to acknowledge, in speculations regarding its owner, for to May, notwithstanding what Will Shakspeare has said to the contrary, there was a very great deal in a name. By some chance she had never met him. She had passed most of her life, for what crimes she could not tell, in a sort of prison, ycleped a fashionable boarding-school, and the greater part of the vacations had been spent with a rich maiden aunt and an old bachelor uncle in the city of Brotherly Love. A few days previous to her liberation from this "durance vile," Walter Cunningham had set out for Paris, where he was to remain as long as suited his convenience. May had just returned home, and having learned this little piece of news, which she very properly deemed not at all complimentary to herself, was in as vexable a mood as her amiability ever allowed. Her cousin Hal suddenly entered the room in a rather boisterous manner, with the exclamation: "Hurrah! May, I am going to be a fireman!" "So I should suspect," returned May, a little pettishly. "Suspect?" said Hal, sobering down in a moment. May laughed. "Why will you join such a set of rowdies, Hal? I should think it quite beneath me!" "Rowdies! Those loafers who hang about the companies, attracted by the excitement and the noise, do not belong to the department." "You know the old adage, Hal,--'People are known by the company they keep,' that is, 'birds of a feather flock together.'" "Why, May, this is too bad! They are the noblest fellows in the world." "Noble! I have lived too long in Philadelphia not to know something about firemen. They used to frighten me almost out of my senses. Once we thought they would set fire to the whole city, murder the people and drink their blood! O, such a savage set you never saw!" Hal laughed outright. "Shoot the men, strangle the women, and swallow the children alive!" he echoed, mockingly. "It is no subject for jesting, Mr. Hal Delancey. Philadelphia is not the only place. Take up the papers any morning, and what will you find under the Williamsburgh head? Accounts of riots, street-battles, and plunderings, in all of which the firemen have had a conspicuous part, and New York is not much better." "Well, May, you do make out the firemen to be a miserable set, most assuredly. Now, if I had not already committed myself," continued Hal, jestingly, "almost you would persuade me to denounce this gang of rowdies, murderers and robbers; but the Rubicon is passed!" "I do detest a fireman above all men!" ejaculated May, emphatically, as Hal left the house to go down town and procure his equipment. Little did either of them dream what was to be the scene of his first fire. May's too sound slumbers were disturbed about twelve o'clock that night by a confused rush of sounds, cries, shrieks, crackling beams and falling timbers. She wrapped her dressing-gown around her, and rushed to the door. Unclasping the bolts, she threw it open, but hastily closed it again, for smoke and flame rushed in, almost suffocating her. "O, God, save me!" she murmured, huskily, flying to the window, only to gaze upon a scene which sent dismay to her heart. Clouds of flame and smoke enveloped everything. For a moment the bursting mass of fire was stayed by a huge stream of water, and she caught a glimpse of the crowd below. There were men, boys, engines, ladders, furniture, all heaped together in confusion; but the smoke and flame rolled forth with renewed anger after their momentary check, and all was blank again. She cried for help, but her voice was lost in the universal din. The heat became intense, the flame knocked at her very door to demand admittance; she heard its fiery tongue flap against the panels, a few moments more and its scorching arms would clasp her in their embrace of death. She knelt one moment, her soul was in that prayer; she rushed again with almost hopeless agony to the window. O, joy! and yet how terrible! That moment when the flame relaxed to gain new energy, a fireman had discovered her frail form in the glare of the light. He did not hesitate an instant; his soul was made of such stern stuff as common minds cannot appreciate. He raised the first ladder within his reach against the wall--a miserable thing, already half-burned,--and springing on it, ascended amid the flames. He had scarcely reached the top of the third story, when he felt it bend beneath him; he heard the shriek above, the cries below, and turning, sprang to the ground unharmed, as his treacherous support fell crackling in the blaze. A shout of joy arose at his wonderful escape, and now they poured a constant, steady stream beneath the window at which May's face was discovered by all. A moment, and another ladder, much stouter than the first, was raised. The undismayed fireman ran up its trembling rounds, amid the stifling smoke, the eager flames wrapping themselves around him as he passed; a moment more, and he had reached the terrified May, caught her hand and lifted her to his side. She gazed a second on his speaking face--there was a world of meaning in it; she asked no question--he uttered not a word, but by his eye and hand guided her down that fiery, dizzy path, so full of danger and of death. A fresh burst of flame defied the stream of water; it flashed around them while all below was as silent as the grave, naught heard but the hissing of the blaze and the crackling of the timbers. May would have fallen, shrinking from the embrace of the relentless flame; but the fireman caught her in his arms and leaped to the ground just as the second ladder fell. O, then there were cries of wild delight, and with renewed vigor the dauntless men worked against the fire. May's friends came crowding around her; her father clasped her in his trembling arms, with a whispered "O, May! May! you are safe!--the old house may burn now!" and the mother shied such tears as only thankful mothers weep. But the noble fireman was gone; in vain Hal endeavored to gain some particulars concerning him, from the members of the company to which he belonged. They told him that not a single black ball had been cost against him, although he was a stranger to them all, save the foreman for he carried his claim to confidence in his honest face. He always pays his dues, never shrank from duty, was kind and gentlemanly--what more could they desire. The foreman himself was obstinately silent concerning the history of his friend, muttering his name in such an undertone that Hal could not understand it. On the morrow, all New York was echoing with his praises. So brave, so rashly brave a thing had not been done in years, though every week the noble firemen hazarded their lives for the safety of the city. Hal met May with a pale, a haggard face. He had thought her safe until he saw the stranger fireman on the ladder and learned his errand. He loved his cousin, and had suffered almost the agonies of death. May burst into tears. "O, Hal, what do I not owe to a fireman!" Hal then recalled for the first time her words of the previous day. "Do you despise the firemen now, May?" "Despise them? God forbid! How devoted!--how self sacrificing!--how humane!--how noble to risk one's life for an entire stranger! O, Harry, I wish we could learn his name, that we might at least thank him. I shall never forget the first moment when he grasped my hand; it was the first that I had hoped to live. It seemed to me there was something of a divinity in his eyes as I met their gaze, and I did not fear to descend into the very flames. But I know now what it was--the noble, self-forgetting, heaven-trusting soul shining through those eyes, which spoke to mine and bade me fear not, but trust in God." Hal was silent for a moment; then he said, slowly and sorrowfully: "Every fireman could not have acted thus. O, May, will you forgive me? I felt that I could not. He impressed me with a kind of awe when after the first ladder had fallen he raised a second, as determined as before. He would have died rather than have given you up!" It was a long while before the thought of Walter Cunningham crossed the mind of May Edgerton, and then she dwelt upon it but for a moment. A fireman had become an object of intense interest to her. Blue coats, brass buttons and epaulets sank into shameful insignificance beside the negligent costume of a fireman, and let Hal call, "Here, May, comes a glazed cap and a red shirt!" and she was at the window in an instant. One day Hal returned home with a face glowing with excitement. "I have seen him, uncle! May, I have seen the stranger fireman!" "Where? where?" was the quick response. "There was a tremendous fire down town to-day, burning through from street to street. --'s book establishment, which has so long enlightened all the country, now illumined a good part of the city in quite another manner. The paper flew in every direction. All New York was there, and the stranger among the rest. Every one saw him, the firemen recognized him, and he worked like a brave fellow. There was more than one noble deed done to-day, for many a life was in peril." Hal's eyes glistened now, for he had saved a life himself. "The poor girls who stitched the books had to be taken down by ladders from the upper stories; no one can tell how many were rescued by our hero! The flames leaped from story to story, resistless, swallowing up everything; the giant work of years, the productions of great minds, all fading, as man must himself, into ashes, ashes!" "But, Hal, our fireman--did you not follow him?" "Indeed I did!--up through Fulton into Broadway; up, up, up, until he hurried down Waverley Street, I after him, and suddenly disappeared among the old gray walls of the university. I went in, walked all through the halls, made a dozen inquiries, but in vain. I reckon he is a will-o'the-wisp." Scarce a week, had flown by before another terrific fire excited all the city. People began to think that every important building on the island was destined to the flames. The hall where Jenny Lind had sung, where little Jullien with his magic bow had won laurels, and the larger Jullien enchanted the multitude; the hall which had echoed to the voice of Daniel Webster, which was redolent with memories of greatness, goodness and delight, was wrapped in the devouring element. Hal Delancey was quickly on the ground, but the strange fireman already had the pipe of his company. He walked amid the flames with a fearless, yet far from defiant air, reminding Hal only of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace. He was everywhere, where work was to be done, gliding over sinking beams, the example for all, giving prompt orders, as promptly obeyed, every fireman rallying around him with hearty good will, all jealousy cast aside, their watchword "Duty." Towards morning, when the danger to other buildings was past, Harry closely watched the stranger, who seemed to mark him too, and with two members of his company determined to follow him and find out who he was, not only that his cousin and her father might have the poor felicity of thanking him, but because he was himself entranced by the manner of the man, and like May, saw something mysteriously beautiful shining through his eyes. The three--a young lawyer, a Wall Street merchant, and Hal--now tracked the fireman's steps with a "zeal worthy of a better cause." Hal did not think he was showing any very good manners in thus pursuing a person who quite evidently did not wish to be known; still he had once accosted the stranger in a gentlemanly manner, and received no satisfactory reply, so now he had decided, cost what it might, to make what discoveries he was able to, with or without leave. This time it was down, down Broadway, through Fulton to Peck Slip. The stranger's light, almost boyish form moved swiftly, but evenly onward, while behind him fell the measured tread of Hal and his companions. Arrived at the pier, instead of crossing over by the ferry, the stranger unloosed a small boat, and springing into it, seized the oars, turning back a half scornful, half merry glance at his pursuers. Hal was not to be outwitted thus. He quickly procured a boat, and the three soon overtook the stranger. They rowed silently along, not a word spoken from either boat, the oars falling musically upon the waves, darkness still brooding over the waters. The stranger made no attempt to land, but held on his course up the East River until they approached Hurl Gate. "I do believe we are following the devil!" exclaimed the lawyer, suddenly, recalling some of his questionable deeds, as he heard the roar of the whirlpools, and saw the foam glistening in the dim light. "He never came in such a shape as that!" laughed Hal, whose admiration of the stranger momentarily increased as he watched his skilful pilotage. "Indeed, Delancey, I am not at all ready to make an intimate acquaintance with the 'Pot,' or 'Frying Pan,'" again exclaimed the lawyer fireman. Still, Hal insisted upon following, in hopes the stranger would tack about. "You have no fears?" said Hal, to his brother fireman, the merchant. "Why no," he returned, calculatingly; "that is, if the risk is not too great." Now the waters became wilder, lashing against the rocks, leaping and foaming; it was a dangerous thing to venture much farther, they must turn back now or not at all; a few strokes more and they must keep on steadily through the gate--one false movement would be their destruction. The stranger's bark gradually distanced them--they saw it enter among the whirling eddies--he missed the sound of their measured strokes, glanced back, lost the balance of his oars, his boat upset, and Hal saw neither no more. There, on that moonless, starless night, when the darkness was blackest, just before the dawn, the brave fireman had gone down in that whistling, groaning, shrieking, moaning, Tartarean whirlpool! Mute horror stood on every face. Hal's grasp slackened; the lawyer quickly seized the oars, and turned the boat's prow towards the city. "Do you not think we could save him?" gasped Hal, his face like the face of the dead. "Save him!" ejaculated the lawyer; "that's worse than mad! Malafert alone can raise his bones along with 'Pot Rock.'" Hal groaned aloud. Perhaps the stranger had no intention of going up the river, until driven by them. It was a miserable thought, and hung with a leaden weight upon Hal's spirit. He remained at home all the next day, worn out and dejected. May rallied him. "How I pity you, poor firemen! You get up at all times of the night, work like soldiers on a campaign, and sometimes do not even get a 'thank you' for your pay. You know I told you never to be a fireman!" "I wish I had followed your advice," answered Hal, with something very like a groan. May started. She noticed how very pale he was, and bade him lie down on the sofa. She brought a cushion, and sat down by his side. "Now, Hal, you must tell me what troubles you. Has any one been slandering the firemen? I will not permit that now, since I have so kind a cousin in their ranks," said May, with a wicked little smile. In vain she racked her brain for something to amuse him; Hal would not be amused. She bade him come to the window and watch the fountain in Union Park, but he strolled back immediately to the luxurious sofa, and buried his face in his hands. At last he could endure his horrid secret no longer; it scorched his brain and withered his very heart. "May, you have not asked me if I saw the mysterious fireman last night?" May could not trust her voice to reply. "He was at the fire." "Was he?" "I tell you he was," returned Hal, pettishly. "When I say he was, I do not mean that he was not. I followed him after the fire." "Did you?" "Good heavens, you will drive me mad!" Hal sprang to his feet. "I followed him I say--ay, to the death!" Then ensued a rapid recital of all that had passed, Hal was excited beyond endurance, every nerve was stretched to its utmost, and the purple veins stood out boldly on his white forehead. He did not wait for May to say a word, but abruptly ended his narrative with: "Was not this a pretty way to reward him for saving the life of my cousin--my sister. O, God, must the roar of that terrible whirlpool ring in my ears forever?" He gazed a moment on May's countenance of speechless sorrow, and rushed from the room. For a long time Hal and May scarcely spoke to each other. He felt as though he had wronged her, and was always restless in her society. He would not bear to receive the thousand cousinly attentions which May had always lavished on him, and which she now performed mechanically; he hated to see the suppers by the corner of the grate, and after a few evenings would not notice them; but above all he could not endure that very, very sad expression in May's eyes--for worlds he would have wished not to be able to translate it. The time for his wedding was fast drawing nigh, and he knew he should be miserable if May did not smile upon his bridal. Weeks passed, and Delancey did not go to a fire; he paid his fines and remained at home. But he could not sleep while the bells were ringing--somehow they reminded him of that still night at Hurl Gate. By degrees the coldness wore off between May and himself, and she consented to be Emily's, his Emily's bridesmaid. One night, however, the bell had a solemn summons in it, which Hal could not resist. It tolled as though for a funeral, and spoke to his very heart. He threw on his fire-clothes and hastened down town. Delancey soon reached the scene of destruction. The flames were carousing in all their mad mirth, as though they were to be the cause of no sorrow, no pain, no death. Hal's courage was soon excited; he leaped upon the burning rafters, rescuing goods from destruction, telling where a stream was needed; but suddenly he became paralyzed--he heard a voice which had often rung in his ear amid like scenes, a greater genius than his own was at work. He learned that he was innocent, even indirectly, of the stranger's death. Joy thrilled through every vein, he could have faced any peril, however great. Regardless of the angry blaze, he made his way through fire and smoke to the stranger's side. The fireman paused in his labor a moment, grasped Hal's hand, and with a smile, in which mingled a dash of triumph, said: "You see I am safe." "Do you forgive my rudeness?" asked Hal. "Entirely!" was the ready response, and they went to work again. In a few minutes Hal was separated from his friend--for he felt that he was his friend, and could have worked at his side until his last strength was expended. Retiring from the burning building to gather new vigor for the conflict, a sight glared before his eyes as he gazed backward for a moment, which froze his blood and made him groan with horror. The rear wall of the building, at a moment when no one expected it, with a crash, an eloquent yell of terror, fell, How many brave men were buried beneath the ruins, none could say. Hal saw the stranger falling with the timbers and the mass of brick he strained his gaze to mark where he should rest, but lost sight of him beneath the piled-up beams and stones. "A brave heart has perished!" cried Hal, thinking of but one of the many who had fallen sacrifices to their noble heroism. All night long the saddened, horrified firemen worked in subduing the flames and extricating the bruised bodies of the victims. Some still breathed, others were but slightly injured, but many more were drawn forth whose lips were still in death, their brave arms nerveless, and their hearts pulseless forever. O, it was a night of agony, of terror and dismay! The fireman's risk of life is not poetry, nor a romance of zeal, or picture wrought by the imagination. It is an earnest, solemn, terrible thing, as they could witness who stood around those blackened corses on that midnight of woe. Hal searched with undiminished care for the noble stranger, until his worn energies required repose. In vain did he gaze upon the recovered bodies to find that of the fireman it was not there, Towards morning they found his cap; they knew it by the strange device--the anchor and the cross emblazoned on its front, above the number of his company. "A fitting death for him to die!" said clergymen, as they recalled his bravery, the majesty of his mien, the benevolence of every action. The news of the disaster spread through the city with the speed of lightning. Friends hastened to the spot, and O, what joy for some to find the loved one safe!--what worse than agony for others to gaze upon the features of their search all locked in ghastly death! With conflicting emotions, Delancey told May Edgerton of his last meeting with the strange fireman. A gush of thankfulness shot through her heart that he had not perished that dark night in Hurl Gate, that he had met an honorable doom. Hal preserved his cap as an incentive to goodness and greatness, and longed to be worthy to place on his own the mysterious device of the stranger. The funeral obsequies of the deceased firemen were celebrated by all the pomp esteem could propose, or grief bestow. Mary Edgerton stood by the window as the long ranks of firemen filed round the park, all wearing the badge of mourning, the trumpets wreathed in crape, the banners lowered, the muffled drums beating the sad march to the grave. All the flags of the city were at half-mast, the fire bells tolled mournfully, and when, wearied with their sorrowful duty, their cadences for a while died away in gloomy silence, the bells of Trinity took up the wail in chiming the requiem to the dead. Everywhere reigned breathless silence, broken only by these sounds of woe. As May gazed on the slow procession, her eye was attracted by the emblem on a fireman's cap--it was the same--an anchor and a cross! That form, it could be no other, the face was turned towards her, it was the stranger fireman! His very step bespoke the man, as with folded arms and solemn tread he followed in the funeral cortege. That evening Hal Delancey returned home, his countenance beaming with joy, in strange contrast with the gloom of the day. "May, he is safe again!" was his first exclamation, "He is a perfect Neptune, Vulcan, master of fire and flood. Neither the surging eddies of Hurl Gate, nor ghastly flames and crashing beams have been able to overcome him. How he escaped he scarcely knows, and yet he does not bear a scar. So skilful, so agile, so brave, so dominant over all dangers, we easily might fancy him one of the old heathen deities!" The next day there was to be some public literary exercise at the university, to which the alderman's family had been invited. May remembered Hal's once saying that he saw the fireman disappear somewhere around that venerable building, so an early hour found her seated at her father's side in the solemn-looking chapel, watching the arrival of the spectators, but more particularly the entrance of the students. The exercises commenced, still May had discovered no face resembling the fireman of her dreams. Several essays were pronounced with ease and grace, and the alderman took a fitting occasion to make a complimentary remark to one of the officers of the institution who was seated near him. "Exactly, exactly," echoed the professor, "but wait until young Sherwood speaks!" Marion Sherwood was called, and there arose from among the heavy folds of the curtain that had almost entirely concealed him, a student who advanced with the dignity of a Jupiter and the grace of an Apollo. Duty was his theme. The words flowed in a resistless torrent from his lips. Every thought breathed beauty and sublimity, every gesture was the "poetry of motion." More than once did the entranced May Edgerton catch the dark eyes of the orator fixed with an almost scrutinizing gaze upon her face. The walls rang with applause as he resumed his seat; bouquets were showered at his feet by beauty's hand, the excited students called out "Sherwood, Sherwood!" he had surpassed himself. May scarcely heard a word that followed. She was delighted to find that she had not deceived herself, that in intellectual strength he equalled the promise of his daring. At the close of the exercises Marion Sherwood would have hastened away, but the chancellor detained him. "Alderman Edgerton desires an introduction to you, sir," deliberately remarked the chancellor. Marion bowed. The alderman, after the first greeting, caught his hand. "I cannot be deceived, sir; you are the gallant youth who so nobly rescued my daughter from a terrible death." Again Marion bowed, hesitatingly, striving to withdraw his hand from the alderman's grasp. "Will you not permit me at least to thank you?" said Mr. Edgerton, in a wounded tone. Young Sherwood had not the slightest intention of offending him, and wished to hasten away only to escape observation. Now, however, with his usual generosity, he forgot his own inclinations, and permitted himself to be overwhelmed with expressions of heartfelt gratitude. He suddenly checked the alderman's torrent of eloquence by requesting an introduction to his daughter, who stood in the shadow of a pillar awaiting her father. May Edgerton's one little sentence of earnest thanks, speaking through every feature, was more grateful to the young student than all her father's words. One mutual glance made them friends in more than name. Now many an evening found Marion Sherwood whiling away a student's idle hours in the luxuriant drawing-room of Mr. Edgerton. May and he together read their favorite poets and the old classic writers, his daring mind stored with philosophy, guiding her wild imagination, her gentle goodness beguiling his holder thoughts into the paths of virtue. O, it was blissful thus to mingle their day-dreams, encircling themselves in rainbows of hope and stars lit by each other's eyes, all breathing upon them beauty and blessings. May had already wreathed the unknown fireman in all the attributes of virtue and of manliness; happy was she to find them realized in Marion. And he, when sitting in the shadows of the old marble pile, gazing up at the brilliant sky, had pictured a being beautiful and good, whose soul could comprehend the yearnings of his own, and this he found in May. Thus their two souls grew together, until their thoughts, their hopes, their very lives seemed one. When Marion Sherwood requested of Mr. Edgerton the hand of his daughter, and learned that she was not free, at least until she had met a certain gentleman who was every day expected, his soul recoiled with a sudden sting; he had so leaned upon this staff of happiness, and now it bent like a fragile reed. May laughed in scorn that she should prefer any one to Marion, but he learned that the stranger was talented, handsome, wealthy, everything that a lady would desire in her favored suitor. If he did not release her, she was not free, and could he be adamant to the captivating charms of guileless, spiritual, beautiful May! Scarcely had a day passed after Marion--whom May and her father knew only as one of Nature's noblemen--had learned this wretched news which sank into his heart like a poisoned dagger, when the vessel arrived which bore Walter Cunningham, his mother and step-father from France. A few miserable days passed--miserable they were to May and Marion, and the evening was appointed when Cunningham and his parents should call at the alderman's and May's fate, in part, at least, be decided. Marion also was to be there. He arrived early, unknowing even the name of his rival. He concealed himself among the flowers in the conservatory, pacing up and down the fragrant, embowered walks with hasty step and anxious heart. How fondly memory roved back over the jewelled past, glistening with departed joys; how fearfully imagination strove to penetrate the gloomy future; how tremblingly did he await the bursting storm of the blackened present. The guests had arrived, and Marion was summoned to the drawing-room. With jealous care he had dressed himself in a fireman's costume made of rich materials, which wonderfully became him, that it might remind May what he had dared for her, and what had rendered them so dear unto each other. He stood with folded arms, his eyes fixed upon May Edgerton, scarcely daring to glance at the stranger. Suddenly he lifted his eves to the pale face of his rival, which was bowed towards the floor. "Walter!" he cried. "Marion!" was the startled response. "Choose, May! choose between us!" exclaimed Marion, with glistening eyes and extended hand. "With your leave, Mr. Cunningham," she said joyfully, speaking to Walter, but placing her hand in that of Sherwood. "Man proposes, God disposes." A weight was lifted from Cunningham's heart. While abroad, negligent of his promise to his parents, he had woed and won a lovely girl to whom he had been privately married a few weeks before setting sail for home, with the promise of a speedy return. So desirous did he find his parents that May Edgerton should be his wife, that he did not dare confess his recreancy, but relied upon the hope that May's affections were already engaged, and thus she would save him in part from the anger of his parents. Why did not Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood frown and scold at May's poor taste! Why! Because they loved their son Marion quite as well his half-brother, Walter Cunningham, and were easily reconciled to the change of suitors, especially when they learned Walter had already secured a most estimable wife. Marion had heard that his brother was engaged conditionally to some "proud, beauty heiress" of New York, and was not at all displeased to have him renounce all claim to his promised bride, when he found to his astonishment that it was his own May Edgerton, whom Cunningham confessed it would have been no difficult thing to love. "Only to think of May Edgerton marrying a fireman!" exclaimed Hal Delancey, in great glee, as the wedding, which passed off as all weddings should, without a cloud upon heart, face, or sky. May blushed and whispered to Marion that if ever there was a benevolent, noble, trustworthy man upon the earth, it was a true-hearted fireman. If my recital has enlarged one contracted soul, has persuaded one mind to throw aside false prejudices, has taught one child of luxury to look with sympathetic admiration on those who devote themselves so nobly to the public good, has encouraged one bold heart to labor with more exalted zeal in the cause of humanity, this "ower true tale" has not been written in vain. THE END 
8000	----	was produced from images generously made available by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr. THE SLAVE TRADE, Domestic and Foreign: WHY IT EXISTS, AND HOW IT MAY BE EXTINGUISHED. BY H. C. CAREY, AUTHOR OF "PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL ECONOMY," "THE PAST, THE PRESENT, AND THE FUTURE," ETC. ETC. PREFACE. The subject discussed in the following pages is one of great importance, and especially so to the people of this country. The views presented for consideration differ widely from those generally entertained, both as regards the cause of evil and the mode of cure; but it does not follow necessarily that they are not correct,--as the reader may readily satisfy himself by reflecting upon the fact, that there is scarcely an opinion he now holds, that has not, and at no very distant period, been deemed quite as heretical as any here advanced. In reflecting upon them, and upon the facts by which they are supported, he is requested to bear in mind that the latter are, with very few exceptions, drawn from writers holding views directly opposed to those of the author of this volume; and not therefore to be suspected of any exaggeration of the injurious effects of the system here treated as leading to slavery, or the beneficial ones resulting from that here described as tending to establish perfect and universal freedom of thought, speech, action, and trade. Philadelphia, March, 1853. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. THE WIDE EXTENT OF SLAVERY CHAPTER II. OF SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH COLONIES CHAPTER III. OF SLAVERY IN THE UNITED STATES CHAPTER IV. OF EMANCIPATION IN THE BRITISH COLONIES CHAPTER V. HOW MAN PASSES FROM POVERTY AND SLAVERY TOWARD WEALTH AND FREEDOM CHAPTER VI. HOW WEALTH TENDS TO INCREASE CHAPTER VII. HOW LABOUR ACQUIRES VALUE AND MAN BECOMES FREE CHAPTER VIII. HOW MAN PASSES FROM WEALTH AND FREEDOM TOWARD POVERTY AND SLAVERY CHAPTER IX. HOW SLAVERY GREW, AND HOW IT IS NOW MAINTAINED, IN THE WEST INDIES CHAPTER X. HOW SLAVERY GREW AND IS MAINTAINED IN THE UNITED STATES CHAPTER XI. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN PORTUGAL AND TURKEY CHAPTER XII. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN INDIA CHAPTER XIII. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN IRELAND AND SCOTLAND CHAPTER XIV. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN ENGLAND CHAPTER XV. HOW CAN SLAVERY BE EXTINGUISHED? CHAPTER XVI. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN NORTHERN GERMANY CHAPTER XVII. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN RUSSIA CHAPTER XVIII. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN DENMARK CHAPTER XIX. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN SPAIN AND BELGIUM CHAPTER XX. OF THE DUTY OF THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES CHAPTER XXI. OF THE DUTY OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND THE SLAVE TRADE, DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN. CHAPTER I. THE WIDE EXTENT OF SLAVERY. Slavery still exists throughout a large portion of what we are accustomed to regard as the civilized world. In some countries, men are forced to take the chance of a lottery for the determination of the question whether they shall or shall not be transported to distant and unhealthy countries, there most probably to perish, leaving behind them impoverished mothers and sisters to lament their fate. In others, they are seized on the highway and sent to sea for long terms of years, while parents, wives, and sisters, who had been dependent on their exertions, are left to perish of starvation, or driven to vice or crime to procure the means of support. In a third class, men, their wives, and children, are driven from their homes to perish in the road, or to endure the slavery of dependence on public charity until pestilence shall Send them to their graves, and thus clear the way for a fresh supply of others like themselves. In a fourth, we see men driven to selling themselves for long periods at hard labour in distant countries, deprived of the society of parents, relatives, or friends. In a fifth, men, women, and children are exposed to sale, and wives are separated from husbands, while children are separated from parents. In some, white men, and, in others, black men, are subjected to the lash, and to other of the severest and most degrading punishments. In some places men are deemed valuable, and they are well fed and clothed. In others, man is regarded as "a drug" and population as "a nuisance;" and Christian men are warned that their duty to God and to society requires that they should permit their fellow-creatures to suffer every privation and distress, short of "absolute death," with a view to prevent the increase of numbers. Among these various classes of slaves, none have recently attracted so much attention as those of the negro race; and it is in reference to that race in this country that the following paper has recently been circulated throughout England:-- _"The affectionate and Christian Address of many thousands of the Women of England to their Sisters, the Women of the United States of America:_ "A common origin, a common faith, and, we sincerely believe, a common cause, urge us at the present moment to address you on the subject of that system of negro slavery which still prevails so extensively, and, even under kindly-disposed masters, with such frightful results, in many of the vast regions of the Western World. "We will not dwell on the ordinary topics--on the progress of civilization; on the advance of freedom everywhere; on the rights and requirements of the nineteenth century;--but we appeal to you very seriously to reflect, and to ask counsel of God, how far such a state of things is in accordance with His holy word, the inalienable rights of immortal souls, and the pure and merciful spirit of the Christian religion. "We do not shut our eyes to the difficulties, nay, the dangers, that might beset the immediate abolition of that long-established system: we see and admit the necessity of preparation for so great an event. But, in speaking of indispensable preliminaries, we cannot be silent on those laws of your country which (in direct contravention of God's own law, instituted in the time of man's innocency) deny, in effect, to the slave, the sanctity of marriage, with all its joys, rights, and obligations; which separates, at the will of the master, the wife from the husband and the children from the parents. Nor can we be silent on that awful system which, either by statute or by custom, interdicts to any race of man, or any portion of the human family, education in the truths of the gospel and the ordinances of Christianity. "A remedy applied to these two evils alone would commence the amelioration of their sad condition. We appeal, then, to you as sisters, as wives, and as mothers, to raise your voices to your fellow-citizens and your prayers to God, for the removal of this affliction from the Christian world. We do not say these things in a spirit of self-complacency, as though our nation were free from the guilt it perceives in others. We acknowledge with grief and shame our heavy share in this great sin. We acknowledge that our forefathers introduced, nay, compelled the adoption of slavery in those mighty colonies. We humbly confess it before Almighty God. And it is because we so deeply feel, and so unfeignedly avow our own complicity, that we now venture to implore your aid to wipe away our common crime and our common dishonour." We have here a movement that cannot fail to be productive of much good. It was time that the various nations of the world should have their attention called to the existence of slavery within their borders, and to the manifold evils of which it was the parent; and it was in the highest degree proper that woman should take the lead in doing it, as it is her sex that always suffers most in that condition of things wherein might triumphs over right, and which we are accustomed to define as a state of slavery. How shall slavery be abolished? This is the great question of our day. But a few years since it was answered in England by an order for the immediate emancipation of the black people held to slavery in her colonies; and it is often urged that we should follow her example. Before doing this, however, it would appear to be proper to examine into the past history and present situation of the negro race in the two countries, with a view to determine how far experience would warrant the belief that the course thus urged upon us would be likely to produce improvement in the condition of the objects of our sympathy. Should the result of such an examination be to prove that the cause of freedom has been advanced by the measures there pursued, our duty to our fellow-men would require that we should follow in the same direction, at whatever loss or inconvenience to ourselves. Should it, however, prove that the condition of the poor negro has been impaired and not improved, it will then become proper to enquire what have been in past times the circumstances under which men have become more free, with a view to ascertain wherein lies the deficiency, and why it is that freedom now so obviously declines in various and important portions of the earth. These things ascertained, it may be that there will be little difficulty in determining what are the measures now needed for enabling all men, black, white, and brown, to obtain for themselves, and profitably to all, the exercise of the rights of freemen. To adopt this course will be to follow in that of the skilful physician, who always determines within himself the cause of fever before he prescribes the remedy. CHAPTER II. OF SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH COLONIES. At the date of the surrender of Jamaica to the British arms, in 1655, the slaves, who were few in number, generally escaped to the mountains, whence they kept up a war of depredation, until at length an accommodation was effected in 1734, the terms of which were not, however, complied with by the whites--the consequences of which will be shown hereafter. Throughout the whole period their numbers were kept up by the desertion of other slaves, and to this cause must, no doubt, be attributed much of the bitterness with which the subsequent war was waged. In 1658, the slave population of the island was 1400. By 1670 it had reached 8000, and in 1673, 9504.[1] From that date we have no account until 1734, when it was 86,546, giving an increase in sixty-one years of 77,000. It was in 1673 that the sugar-culture was commenced; and as profitable employment was thus found for labour, there can be little doubt that the number had increased regularly and steadily, and that the following estimate must approach tolerably near the truth:-- Say 1702, 36,000; increase in 29 years, 26,500 1734, 77,000; " " 32 " 41,000 In 1775, the total number of slaves and other coloured persons on the island, was................. 194,614 And if we now deduct from this the number in 1702, say........................................ 36,000 ------- We obtain, as the increase of 73 years............ 158,614 ======= In that period the importations amounted to......... 497,736 And the exportations to............................. 137,114 ------- Leaving, as retained in the island................ 360,622 [2] or about two and two-fifths persons for one that then remained alive. From 1783 to 1787, the number imported was 47,485, and the number exported 14,541;[3] showing an increase in five years of nearly 33,000, or 6,600 per annum; and by a report of the Inspector-General, it was shown that the number retained from 1778 to 1787, averaged 5345 per annum. Taking the thirteen years, 1775-1787, at that rate, we obtain nearly ........... 70,000 From 1789 to 1791, the excess of import was 32,289, or 10,763 per annum; and if we take the four years, 1788-1791, at the same rate, we obtain, as the total number retained in that period................. 43,000 ------- 113,000 ======= In 1791, a committee of the House of Assembly made a report on the number of the slaves, by which it was made to be 250,000; and if to this be added the free negroes, amounting to 10,000, we obtain, as the total number, 260,000,--showing an increase, in fifteen years, of 65,386--or nearly 48,000 less than the number that had been imported. We have now ascertained an import, in 89 years, of 473,000, with an increase of numbers amounting to only 224,000; thus establishing the fact that more than half of the whole import had perished under the treatment to which they had been subjected. Why it had been so may be gathered from the following extract, by which it is shown that the system there and then pursued corresponds nearly with that of Cuba at the present time. "The advocates of the slave trade insisted that it was impossible to keep up the stock of negroes, without continual importations from Africa. It is, indeed, very evident, that as long as importation is continued, and two-thirds of the slaves imported are men, the succeeding generation, in the most favourable circumstances, cannot be more numerous than if there had been only half as many men; or, in other words, at least half the men may be said, with respect to population, to die without posterity."--_Macpherson_, vol. iv. 148. In 1792, a committee of the Jamaica House of Assembly reported that "the abolition of the slave trade" must be followed by the "total ruin and depopulation of the island." "Suppose," said they, "A planter settling with a gang of 100 African slaves, all bought in the prime of life. Out of this gang he will be able at first to put to work, on an average, from 80 to 90 labourers. The committee will further suppose that they increase in number; yet, in the course of twenty years, this gang will be so far reduced, in point of strength, that he will not be able to work more than 30 to 40. It will therefore require a supply of 50 new negroes to keep up his estate, and that not owing to cruelty, or want of good management on his part; on the contrary, the more humane he is, the greater the number of old people and young he will have on his estate."--_Macpherson_, iv. 256. In reference to this extraordinary reasoning, Macpherson says, very correctly-- "With submission, it may be asked if people become superannuated in twenty years after being in _the prime of life_; and if the children of all these superannuated people are in a state of infancy? If one-half of these slaves are women, (as they ought to be, if the planter looks to futurity,) will not those fifty women, in twenty years, have, besides younger children, at least one hundred grown up to young men and women, capable of partaking the labour of their parents, and replacing the loss by superannuation or death,-- as has been the case with the working people in all other parts of the world, from the creation to this day?" To this question there can be but one reply: Man has always increased in numbers where he has been well fed, well clothed, and reasonably worked; and wherever his numbers have decreased, it has been because of a deficiency of food and clothing and an excess of work. It was at this period that the Maroon war was again in full activity, and so continued until 1796, when it was terminated by the employment of bloodhounds to track the fugitives, who finally surrendered, and were transported to Lower Canada, whence they were soon after sent to Sierra Leone. From 1792 to 1799, the _net_ import was 74,741; and if it continued at the same rate to 1808, the date of the abolition of the trade, the number imported in eighteen years would be nearly 150,000; and yet the number of slaves increased, in that period, from 250,000 to only 323,827--being an annual average increase of about 4500, and exhibiting a loss of fifty per cent. In the thirty-four years, 1775-1808, the number of negroes added to the population of the island, by importation, would seem to have been more than 260,000, and within about 50,000 of the number that, a quarter of a century later, was emancipated. In 1817, nine years after importation had been declared illegal, the number is stated [4] at 346,150; from which it would appear that the trade must have been in some measure continued up to that date, as there is no instance on record of any natural increase in any of the islands, under any circumstances. It is, indeed, quite clear that no such increase has taken place; for had it once commenced, it would have continued, which was not the case, as will be seen by the following figures:-- In 1817, the number was, as we see 346,150. In 1820, it was only 342,382; and if to this we add the manumissions for the same period, (1016,) we have a net loss of 2752. In 1826, they had declined in numbers to 331,119, to which must be added 1848 manumissions--showing a loss, in six years, of 9415, or nearly three per cent. The number shown by the last registration, 1833, was only 311,692; and if to this we add 2000 that had been manumitted, we shall have a loss, in seven years, of 19,275, or more than five per cent. In sixteen years, there had been a diminution of ten per cent., one-fifth of which may be attributed to manumission; and thus is it clearly established that in 1830, as in 1792, a large annual importation would have been required, merely to maintain the number of the population. That the condition of the negroes was in a course of deterioration in this period, is clearly shown by the fact that the proportion of births to deaths was in a steady course of diminution, as is here shown:-- Registered: ----------- 1817 to 1820............. 25,104 deaths, 24,348 births. 1823 to 1826............. 25,171 " , 23,026 " 1826 to 1829............. 25,137 " , 21,728 " The destruction of life was thus proceeding with constantly accelerating rapidity; and a continuance of the system, as it then existed, must have witnessed the total annihilation of the negro race within half a century. Viewing these facts, not a doubt can, I think, be entertained that the number of negroes imported into the island and retained for its _consumption_ was more than double the number that existed there in 1817, and could scarcely have been less than 750,000, and certainly, at the most moderate estimate, not less than 700,000. If to these we were to add the children that must have been born on the island in the long period of 178 years, and then to reflect that all who remained for emancipation amounted to only 311,000, we should find ourselves forced to the conclusion that slavery was here attended with a destruction of life almost without a parallel in the history of any civilized nation. With a view to show that Jamaica cannot be regarded as an unfavourable specimen of the system, the movement of population in other colonies will now be given. In 1764, the slave population of ST. VINCENT'S was 7414. In 1787, twenty-three years after, it was 11,853, having increased 4439; whereas, _in four only_ of those years, 1784-87, the _net_ import of negroes had been no less than 6100.[5] In 1805, the number was 16,500, the increase having been 4647; whereas the _net_ import in _three only_, out of _eighteen_ years, had been 1937. What was the cause of this, may be seen by the comparative view of deaths, and their compensation by births, at a later period:-- Year 1822.................... 4205 deaths, 2656 births. " 1825.................... 2106 " 1852 " " 1828.................... 2020 " 1829 " " 1831.................... 2266 " 1781 " The births, it will be observed, steadily diminished in number. At the peace of 1763, DOMINICA contained 6000 slaves. The net amount of importation, _in four years_, 1784 to 1787, was 23,221;[6] and yet the total population in 1788 was but 14,967! Here we have a waste of life so far exceeding that of Jamaica that we might almost feel ourselves called upon to allow five imported for every one remaining on the island. Forty-four years afterwards, in 1832, the slave emancipation returns gave 14,834 as remaining out of the vast number that had been imported. The losses by death and the gains by births, for a part of the period preceding emancipation, are thus given:-- 1817 to 1820................. 1748 deaths, 1433 births. 1820 to 1823................. 1527 " 1491 " 1823 to 1826................. 1493 " 1309 " If we look to BRITISH GUIANA, we find the same results.[7] In 1820, Demerara and Essequebo had a slave population of............................... 77,376 By 1826, it had fallen to......................... 71,382 And by 1832, it had still further fallen to....... 65,517 The deaths and births of this colony exhibit a waste of life that would be deemed almost incredible, had not the facts been carefully registered at the moment:-- 1817 to 1820................. 7140 deaths, 4868 births. 1820 to 1823................. 7188 " 4512 " 1823 to 1826................. 7634 " 4494 " 1826 to 1829................. 5731 " 4684 " 1829 to 1832................. 7016 " 4086 " We have here a decrease, in fifteen years, of fifteen per cent., or 12,000 out of 77,000. Each successive period, with a single exception, presents a diminished number of births, while the average of deaths in the last three periods is almost the same as in the first one. BARBADOES had, in 1753, a slave population of 69,870. In 1817, sixty-four years after, although importation appears to have been regularly continued on a small scale, it amounted to only 77,493. In this case, the slaves appear to have been better treated than elsewhere, as here we find, in the later years, the births to have exceeded the deaths--the former having been, from 1826 to 1829, 9250, while the latter were 6814. There were here, also, in the same period, 670 manumissions. In TRINIDAD, out of a total slave population of 23,537, the deaths, in twelve years, were no less than 8774, while the births were only 6001. GRENADA surrendered to the British forces in 1762. Seven years after, in 1769, there were 35,000 negroes on the island. In 1778, notwithstanding the importation, they appear to have been reduced to 25,021. In the four years from 1784 to 1787, and the three from 1789 to 1791, (the only ones for which I can find an account,) the number imported and retained for consumption on the island amounted to no less than 16,228;[8] and yet the total number finally emancipated was but 23,471. The destruction of life appears here to have been enormous; and that it continued long after the abolition of the slave trade, is shown by the following comparison of births and deaths:-- 1817.......................... 451 births, 902 deaths. 1818.......................... 657 " 1070 " The total births from 1817 to 1831, were 10,144 in number, while the deaths were 12,764--showing a loss of about ten per cent. The number of slaves emancipated in 1834, in all the British possessions, was 780,993; and the net loss in the previous five years had been 38,811, or _almost one per cent. per annum_. The number emancipated in the West Indies was 660,000; and viewing the facts that have been placed before the reader, we can scarcely err much in assuming that the number imported and retained for consumption in those colonies had amounted to 1,700,000. This would give about two and a half imported for one that was emancipated; and there is some reason to think that it might be placed as high as three for one, which would give a total import of almost two millions. While thus exhibiting the terrific waste of life in the British colonies, it is not intended either, to assert or to deny any voluntary severity on the part of the landholders. They were, themselves, as will hereafter be shown, to a great extent, the slaves of circumstances over which they had no control; and it cannot be doubted that much, very much, of the responsibility, must rest on other shoulders. CHAPTER III. OF SLAVERY IN THE UNITED STATES. In the North American provinces, now the United States, negro slavery existed from a very early period, but on a very limited scale, as the demand for slaves was mainly supplied from England. The exports of the colonies were bulky, and the whites could be imported as return cargo; whereas the blacks would have required a voyage to the coast of Africa, with which little trade was maintained. The export from England ceased after the revolution of 1688, and thenceforward negro slaves were somewhat more freely imported; yet the trade appears to have been so small as scarcely to have attracted notice. The only information on the subject furnished by Macpherson in his Annals of Commerce is that, in the eight months ending July 12, 1753, the negroes imported into Charleston, S. C., were 511 in number; and that in the year 1765-66, the value of negroes imported from Africa into Georgia was £14,820--and this, if they be valued at only £10 each, would give only 1482. From 1783 to 1787, the number exported from all the West India Islands to this country was 1392 [9] --being an average of less than 300 per annum; and there is little reason for believing that this number was increased by any import direct from Africa. The British West Indies were then the entrepôt of the trade,[10] and thence they were supplied to the other islands and the settlements on the Main; and had the demand for this country been considerable, it cannot be doubted that a larger portion of the thousands then annually exported would have been sent in this direction. Under these circumstances, the only mode of arriving at the history of slavery prior to the first census, in 1790, appears to be to commence at that date and go forward, and afterwards employ the information so obtained in endeavouring to elucidate the operations of the previous period. The number of negroes, free and enslaved, at that date, was.................................... 757,263 And at the second census, in 1801, it was......... 1,001,436 showing an increase of almost thirty-three per cent. How much of this, however, was due to importation, we have now to inquire. The only two States that then tolerated the import of slaves were South Carolina and Georgia, the joint black population of which, in 1790, was............................. 136,358 whereas, in 1800, it had risen to.................. 205,555 ------- Increase.......... 69,197 ======= In the same period the white population increased 104,762, requiring an immigration from the Northern slave States to the extent of not less than 45,000, even allowing more than thirty per cent. for the natural increase by births. Admitting, now, that for every family of five free persons there came one slave, this, would account for....................... 9,000 And if we take the natural increase of the slave population at only twenty-five per cent., we have further.............................................. 34,000 ------ Making a total from domestic sources of............ 43,000 And leaving, for the import from abroad............ 26,197 Deducting these from the total number added, we obtain, for the natural increase, about 29-1/2 per cent. Macpherson, treating of this period, says-- "That importation is not necessary for keeping up the stock is proved by the example of North America--a country less congenial to the constitution of the negro than the West Indies--where, notwithstanding the destruction and desertion of the slaves occasioned by the war, the number of negroes, though perhaps not of slaves, has greatly increased--because, _since the war they have imported very few_, and of late years none at all, except in the Southern States."--_Annals_, vol. iv. 150. The number of vessels employed in the slave trade, in 1795, is stated to have been twenty, all of them small; and the number of slaves to be carried was limited to one for each ton of their capacity. From 1800 to 1810, the increase was 378,374, of which nearly 30,000 were found in Louisiana at her incorporation into the Union, leaving about 350,000 to come from other sources; being an increase of 35 per cent. In this period the increase of Georgia and South Carolina, the two importing States, was only 96,000, while that, of the white population was 129,073, carrying with them perhaps 25,000. If to this be added the natural increase at the rate of 25 per cent., we obtain about 75,000, leaving only 21,000 for importation. It is probable, however, that it was somewhat larger, and that it might be safe to estimate it at the same amount as in the previous period, making a total of about 52,000 in the twenty years. Deducting 26,000 from the 350,000, we obtain 324,000 as the addition from domestic sources, which would be about 32 per cent. on the population of 1800. This may be too high; and yet the growth of the following decennial period--one of war and great commercial and agricultural distress--was almost thirty per cent. In 1810, the number had been 1,379,800. In 1820 it was 1,779,885; increase 30 per cent. " 1830 " 2,328,642; " 30.8 " " " 1840 " 2,873,703; " 24 " " " 1850 " 3,591,000; " 25 " " [11] Having thus ascertained, as far as possible, the ratio of increase subsequent to the first census, we may now proceed to an examination of the course of affairs in the period which had preceded it. In 1714, the number of blacks was 58,850, and they were dispersed throughout the provinces from New Hampshire to Carolina, engaged, to a large extent, in labours similar to those in which were engaged the whites by whom they were owned. One-half of them may have been imported. Starting from this point, and taking the natural increase of each decennial period at 25 per cent., as shown to have since been the case, we should obtain, for 1750, about 130,000. The actual quantity was 220,000; and the difference, 90,000, may be set down to importation. Adding, now, 25 percent, to 220,000, we obtain, for 1760, 275,000; whereas the actual number was 310,000, which Would give 35,000 for importation. Pursuing the same course with the following periods, we obtain the following results:-- Actual Natural Actual Years Number. Increase. Increase. Importation. ----- ------- --------- --------- ------------ 1760..... 310,000..... 77,500..... 152,000..... 74,500 1770..... 462,000..... 115,500..... 120,000..... } 1780..... 582,000..... 140,500..... 170,000..... } 34,000 1790..... 752,000, number given by first census. For a large portion of the period from 1770 to 1790, there must have been a very small importation; for during nearly half the time the trade with foreign countries was almost altogether suspended by the war of the revolution. If we add together the quantities thus obtained, we shall obtain a tolerable approximation to the number of slaves imported into the territory now constituting the Union, as follows:-- Prior to 1714..................................... 30,000 1715 to 1750...................................... 90,000 1751 to 1760...................................... 35,000 1761 to 1770...................................... 74,500 1771 to 1790...................................... 34,000 And if we now estimate the import subsequent to 1790 at even........................ 70,000 ------- We obtain as the total number................... 333,500 ======= The number now in the Union exceeds 3,800,000; and even if we estimate the import as high as 380,000, we then have more than ten for one; whereas in the British Islands we can find not more than two for five, and perhaps even not more than one for three. Had the slaves of the latter been as well fed, clothed, lodged, and otherwise cared for, as were those of these provinces and States, their numbers would have reached seventeen or twenty millions. Had the blacks among the people of these States experienced the same treatment as did their fellows of the islands, we should now have among us less than one hundred and fifty thousand slaves. The prices paid by the British Government averaged £25 per head. Had the number in the colonies been allowed to increase as they increased here, it would have required, even at that price, the enormous sum of................................ £500,000,000 Had the numbers in this country been reduced by the same process there practised, emancipation could now be carried out at cost of less than.. £4,000,000 To emancipate them now, paying for them at the same rate, would require nearly................ £100,000,000 or almost five hundred millions of dollars. The same course, however, that has increased their numbers, has largely increased their value to the owners and to themselves. Men, when well fed, well clothed, well lodged, and otherwise well cared for, always increase rapidly in numbers, and in such cases labour always increases rapidly in value; and hence it is that the average price of the negro slave of this country is probably four times greater than that which the planters of the West Indies were compelled to receive. Such being the case, it would follow that to pay for their full value would require probably four hundred millions of pounds sterling, or nearly two thousand millions of dollars. It will now be seen that the course of things in the two countries has been entirely different. In the islands the slave trade had been cherished as a source of profit. Here, it had been made the subject of repeated protests on the part of several of the provinces, and had been by all but two prohibited at the earliest moment at which they possessed the power so to do. In the islands it was held to be cheaper to buy slaves than to raise them, and the sexes were out of all proportion to each other. Here, importation was small, and almost the whole increase, large as it has been, has resulted from the excess of births over deaths. In the islands, the slave was generally a barbarian, speaking an unknown tongue, and working with men like himself, in gangs, with scarcely a chance for improvement. Here, he was generally a being born on the soil, speaking the same language with his owner; and often working in the field with him, with many advantages for the development of his faculties. In the islands, the land-owners clung to slavery as the sheet-anchor of their hopes. Here, on the contrary, slavery had gradually been abolished in all the States north of Mason & Dixon's line, and Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, and Kentucky were all, at the date of emancipation in the islands, preparing for the early adoption of measures looking to its entire abolition. In the islands, the connection with Africa had been cherished as a means of obtaining cheap labour, to be obtained by fomenting discord among the natives. Here, on the contrary, had originated a grand scheme for carrying civilization into the heart of Africa by means of the gradual transplantation of some of the already civilized blacks. In the islands, it has been deemed desirable to carry out "the European policy," of preventing the Africans "from arriving at perfection" in the art of preparing their cotton, sugar, indigo, or other articles, "from a fear of interfering with established branches of commerce elsewhere."[12] Here, on the contrary, efforts had been made for disseminating among them the knowledge required for perfecting themselves in the modes of preparation and manufacture. In the islands, every thing looked toward the permanency of slavery. Here, every thing looked toward the gradual and gentle civilization and emancipation of the negro throughout the world. In the islands, however, by a prompt measure forced on the people by a distant government, slavery was abolished, and the planters, or their representatives in England, received twenty millions of pounds sterling as compensation in full for the services of the few who remained in existence out of the large number that had been imported. Here, the planters are now urged to adopt for themselves measures of a similar kind. The whole course of proceeding in the two countries in reference to the negro having been so widely different, there are, however, difficulties in the way that seem to be almost insuperable. The power to purchase the slaves of the British colonies was a consequence of the fact that their numbers had not been permitted to increase. The difficulty of purchasing them here is great, because of their having been well fed, well clothed, and otherwise well provided for, and having therefore increased so rapidly. If, nevertheless, it can be shown that by abandoning the system under which the negro race has steadily increased in numbers and advanced towards civilization, and adopting that of a nation under whose rule there has been a steady decline of numbers, and but little, if any, tendency toward civilization, we shall benefit the race, it will become our duty to make the effort, however great may be the cost. With a view to ascertain how far duty may be regarded as calling upon us now to follow in the footsteps of that nation, it is proposed to examine into the working of the act by which the whole negro population of the British colonies was, almost at once and without preparation, invested with the right to determine for whom they would work and what should be their wages--or were, in other words, declared to be free. CHAPTER IV. OF EMANCIPATION IN THE BRITISH COLONIES. The harmony of the universe is the result of a contest between equal and opposing powers. The earth is attracted to the sun and from the sun; and were either of these forces to be diminished or destroyed, chaos would be the inevitable result. So is it everywhere on the earth. The apple falls toward the centre of the earth, but in its passage it encounters resistance; and the harmony of every thing we see around us is dependent on the equal balance of these opposing forces. So is it among men. The man who has food to sell wishes to have a high price for it, whereas, he who needs to buy desires to have it cheaply; and the selling price depends on the relation between the necessity to buy on one hand, or to sell on the other. Diminish suddenly and largely the competition for the purchase of food, and the farmer becomes the prey of the mechanic. Increase it suddenly and largely, and the mechanic becomes the prey of the farmer; whereas a gradual and gentle increase in the demand for food is accompanied by a similar increase in the demand for the products of the loom and the anvil, and both farmer and mechanic prosper together, because the competition for purchase and the competition for sale grow together and balance each other. So, too, with labour. Wages are dependent upon the relation between the number of those who desire to buy and to sell labour. Diminish suddenly the number of those who desire to sell it, and the farmer may be ruined. Diminish suddenly the number of those who desire to buy it, and the labourer may become the slave of the farmer. For almost two centuries, men possessed of capital and desirous to purchase labour had been induced to transfer it to the colonies, and the government secured to them the right to obtain labourers on certain specified terms--such terms as made the labourer a mere instrument in the hands of the capitalist, and prevented him from obtaining any of those habits or feelings calculated to inspire him with a love for labour. At once, all control over him was withdrawn, and the seller of labour was converted into the master of him who was thus, by the action of the government, placed in such a situation that he _must_ buy it or be ruined. Here was a disturbance of the order of things that had existed, almost as great as that which occurs when the powerful steam, bursting the boiler in which it is enclosed, ceases to be the servant and becomes the master of man; and it would have required but little foresight to enable those who had the government of this machine to see that it must prove almost as ruinous. How it operated in Southern Africa, where the slave was most at home, is shown by the following extracts from the work of a recent traveller and settler in that colony:--[13] "The chain was broken, and the people of England hurraed to their heart's content. And the slave! What, in the meanwhile, became of him? If he was young and vicious, away he went--he was his own master. He was at liberty to walk to and fro upon the earth, 'seeking whom he might devour.' He was free: he had the world before him where to choose, though, squatted beside the Kaffir's fire, probably thinking his meal of parched corn but poor stuff after the palatable dishes he had been permitted to cook for himself in the Boer's or tradesman's kitchen. But he was fain to like it--he could get nothing else--and this was earned at the expense of his own soul; for it was given him as an inducement to teach the Kaffir the easiest mode of plundering his ancient master. If inclined to work, he had no certain prospect of employment; and the Dutch, losing so much by the sudden Emancipation Act, resolved on working for themselves. So the virtuous, redeemed slave, had too many temptations to remain virtuous: he was hungry--so was his wife--so were his children; and he must feed them. How? No matter." These people will work at times, but they must have wages that will enable them to play much of their time. "When we read of the distress of our own country, and of the wretched earnings of our mechanics, we are disgusted at the idea of these same Fingoes striking work (as Coolies) at Waterloo Bay, being dissatisfied with the pay of 2s. a day. As their services are necessary in landing cargo, their demand of 3s. a day has been acceded to, and they have consented to work when it suits them!--for they take occasional holidays, for dancing and eating. At Algoa Bay, the Fingoes are often paid 6s. a day for working as Coolies." These men have all the habits of the savage. They leave to the women the tilling of the ground, the hoeing of the corn, the carrying of water, and all the heavy work; and to the boys and old men the tending of the cattle, while they themselves spend the year in hunting, dancing, eating, and robbing their neighbours--except when occasionally they deem it expedient to do a few days' work at such wages as they may think proper to dictate. How it has operated in the West Indies we may next inquire, and with that view will take Jamaica, one of the oldest, and, until lately, one of the most prosperous of the colonies. That island embraces about four millions of acres of land, "of which," says Mr. Bigelow,-- "There are not, probably, any ten lying adjacent to each other which are not susceptible of the highest cultivation, while not more than 500,000 acres have ever been reclaimed, or even appropriated."[14] "It is traversed by over two hundred streams, forty of which are from twenty-five to one hundred feet in breadth; and, it deserves to be mentioned, furnish water-power sufficient to manufacture every thing produced by the soil, or consumed by the inhabitants. Far less expense than is usually incurred on the same surface in the United States for manure, would irrigate all the dry lands of the island, and enable them to defy the most protracted droughts by which it is ever visited."[15] The productiveness of the soil is immense. Fruits of every variety abound; vegetables of every kind for the table, and Indian corn, grow abundantly. The island is rich in dyestuffs, drugs, and spices of the greatest value; and the forests furnish the most celebrated woods in the greatest variety. In addition to this, it possesses copper-mines inferior to none in the world, and coal will probably be mined extensively before many years. "Such," says Mr. Bigelow,-- "Are some of the natural resources of this dilapidated and poverty-stricken country. Capable as it is of producing almost every thing, and actually producing nothing which might not become a staple with a proper application of capital and skill, its inhabitants are miserably poor, and daily sinking deeper and deeper into the utter helplessness of abject want. "'Magnas inter opes inops.' "Shipping has deserted her ports; her magnificent plantations of sugar and coffee are running to weeds; her private dwellings are falling to decay; the comforts and luxuries which belong to industrial prosperity have been cut off, one by one, from her inhabitants; and the day, I think, is at hand when there will be none left to represent the wealth, intelligence, and hospitality for which the Jamaica planter was once so distinguished." The cause of all this, say the planters, is that wages are too high for the price of sugar. This Mr. Bigelow denies--not conceding that a shilling a day is high wages; but all the facts he adduces tend to show that the labourer gives very little labour for the money he receives; and that, as compared with the work done, wages are really far higher than in any part of the Union. Like the Fingo of Southern Africa, he can obtain from a little patch of land all that is indispensably necessary for his subsistence, and he will do little more work than is needed for accomplishing that object. The consequence of this is that potatoes sell for six cents a pound, eggs from three to five cents each, milk at eighteen cents a quart, and corn-meal at twelve or fourteen dollars a barrel; and yet there are now more than a hundred thousand of these small proprietors, being almost one for every three people on the island. All cultivators, they yet produce little to sell, and the consequence of this is seen in the fact that the mass of the flour, rice, corn, peas, butter, lard, herrings, &c. needed for consumption requires to be imported, as well as all the lumber, although millions of acres of timber are to be found among the unappropriated lands of the island. It is impossible to read Mr. Bigelow's volume, without arriving at the conclusion that the freedom granted to the negro has had little effect except that of enabling him to live at the expense of the planter so long as any thing remained. Sixteen years of freedom did not appear to its author to have "advanced the dignity of labour or of the labouring classes one particle," while it had ruined the proprietors of the land; and thus great damage had been done to the one class without benefit of any kind to the other. From a statistical table published in August last, it appears, says the _New York Herald_, that since 1846-- "The number of sugar-estates on the island that have been totally abandoned amounts to one hundred and sixty-eight, and the number partially abandoned to sixty-three; the value of which two hundred and thirty-one estates was assessed, in 1841, at £1,655,140, or nearly eight millions and a half of dollars. Within the same period, two hundred and twenty-three coffee-plantations have been totally, and twenty partially abandoned, the assessed value of which was, in 1841, £500,000, or two millions and a half of dollars; and of cattle-pens, (grazing-farms,) one hundred and twenty-two have been totally, and ten partially abandoned, the value of which was a million and a half of dollars. The aggregate value of these six hundred and six estates, which have been thus ruined and abandoned in the island of Jamaica, within the last seven or eight years, amounted by the regular assessments, ten years since, to the sum of nearly two and a half millions of pounds sterling, or twelve and a half million of dollars." As a necessary consequence of this, "there is little heard of," says Dr. King, "but ruin."[16] "In many districts," he adds-- "The marks of decay abound. Neglected fields, crumbling houses, fragmentary fences, noiseless machinery--these are common sights, and soon become familiar to observation. I sometimes rode for miles in succession over fertile ground which used to be cultivated, and which is now lying waste. So rapidly has cultivation retrograded, and the wild luxuriance of nature replaced the conveniences of art, that parties still inhabiting these desolated districts, have sometimes, in the strong language of a speaker at Kingston, 'to seek about the bush to find the entrance into their houses.' "The towns present a spectacle not less gloomy. A great part of Kingston was destroyed, some years ago, by an extensive conflagration: yet multitudes of the houses which escaped that visitation are standing empty, though the population is little, if at all diminished. The explanation is obvious. Persons who have nothing, and can no longer keep up their domestic establishments, take refuge in the abodes of others, where some means of subsistence are still left: and in the absence of any discernible trade or occupation, the lives of crowded thousands appear to be preserved from day to day by a species of miracle. The most busy thoroughfares of former times have now almost the quietude of a Sabbath." "The finest land in the world," says Mr. Bigelow, "may be had at any price, and almost for the asking." Labour, he adds, "receives no compensation, and the product of labour does not seem to know how to find the way to market." Properties which were formerly valued at £40,000 would not now command £4000, and others, after having been sold at six, eight, or ten per cent. of their former value, have been finally abandoned. The following is from a report made in 1849 and signed by various missionaries:-- "Missionary efforts in Jamaica are beset at the present time with many and great discouragements. Societies at home have withdrawn or diminished the amount of assistance afforded by them to chapels and schools throughout this island. The prostrate condition of its agriculture and commerce disables its own population from doing as much as formerly for maintaining the worship of God and the tuition of the young, and induces numbers of negro labourers to retire from estates which have been thrown up, to seek the means of subsistence in the mountains, where they are removed in general from moral training and superintendence. The consequences of this state of matters are very disastrous. Not a few missionaries and teachers, often struggling with difficulties which they could not overcome, have returned to Europe, and others are preparing to follow them. Chapels and schools are abandoned, or they have passed into the charge of very incompetent instructors."--_Quoted in King's Jamaica_, p. 111. Population gradually diminishes, furnishing another evidence that the tendency of every thing is adverse to the progress of civilization. In 1841, the island contained a little short of 400,000 persons. In 1844, the census returns gave about 380,000; and a recent journal states that of those no less than forty thousand have in the last two years been carried off by cholera, and that small-pox, which has succeeded that disease, is now sweeping away thousands whom that disease had spared. Increase of crime, it adds, keeps pace with the spread of misery throughout the island. The following extracts from a Report of a Commission appointed in 1850 to inquire into the state and prosperity of Guiana, are furnished by Lord Stanley in his second letter to Mr. Gladstone, [London, 1851.] Of Guiana generally they say-- "'It would be but a melancholy task to dwell upon the misery and ruin which so alarming a change must have occasioned to the proprietary body; but your Commissioners feel themselves called upon to notice the effects which this wholesale abandonment of property has produced upon the colony at large. Where whole districts are fast relapsing into bush, and occasional patches of provisions around the huts of village settlers are all that remain to tell of once flourishing estates, it is not to be wondered at that the most ordinary marks of civilization are rapidly disappearing, and that in many districts of the colony all travelling communication by land will soon become utterly impracticable.' "Of the Abary district-- "'Your Commissioners find that the line of road is nearly impassable, and that a long succession of formerly cultivated estates presents now a series of pestilent swamps, overrun with bush, and productive of malignant fevers.' "Nor are matters," says Lord Stanley, "much better farther south-- "'Proceeding still lower down, your Commissioners find that the public roads and bridges are in such a condition, that the few estates still remaining on the upper west bank of Mahaica Creek are completely cut off, save in the very dry season; and that with regard to the whole district, unless something be done very shortly, travelling by land will entirely cease. In such a state of things it cannot be wondered at that the herdsman has a formidable enemy to encounter in the jaguar and other beasts of prey, and that the keeping of cattle is attended with considerable loss, from the depredations committed by these animals. "It may be worth noticing," continues Lord Stanley, "that this district, now overrun with wild beasts of the forest; was formerly the very garden of the colony. The estates touched one another along the whole line of the road, leaving no interval of uncleared land. "The east coast, which is next mentioned by the Commissioners, is better off. Properties once of immense value had there been bought at nominal prices, and the one railroad of Guiana passing through that tract, a comparatively industrious population, composed of former labourers on the line, enabled the planters still to work these to some profit. Even of this favoured spot, however, they report that it 'feels most severely the want of continuous labour.' The Commissioners next visit the east bank of the Demerara river, thus described:-- "'Proceeding up the east bank of the river Demerary, the generally prevailing features of ruin and distress are everywhere perceptible. Roads and bridges almost impassable are fearfully significant exponents of the condition of the plantations which they traverse; and Canal No. 3, once covered with plantains and coffee, presents now a scene of almost total desolation.' "Crossing to the west side, they find prospects somewhat brighter: 'a few estates' are still 'keeping up a cultivation worthy of better times.' But this prosperous neighbourhood is not extensive, and the next picture presented to our notice is less agreeable:-- "'Ascending the river still higher, your Commissioners learn that the district between Hobaboe Creek and 'Stricken Heuvel' contained, in 1829, eight sugar and five coffee and plantain estates, and now there remain but three in sugar and four partially cultivated with plantains by petty settlers: while the roads, with one or two exceptions, are in a state of utter abandonment. Here, as on the opposite bank of the river, hordes of squatters have located themselves, who avoid all communication with Europeans, and have seemingly given themselves up altogether to the rude pleasures of a completely savage life.' "The west coast of Demerara--the only part of that country which still remains unvisited--is described as showing _only_ a diminution of fifty per cent. upon its produce of sugar: and with this fact the evidence concludes as to one of the three sections into which the colony is divided. Does Demerara stand alone in its misfortune? Again hear the report:-- "'If the present state of the county of Demerara affords cause for deep apprehension, your Commissioners find that Essequebo has retrograded to a still more alarming extent. In fact, unless a large and speedy supply of labour be obtained to cultivate the deserted fields of this once-flourishing district, there is great reason to fear that it will relapse into total abandonment.'" Describing another portion of the colony-- "They say of one district, 'unless a fresh supply of labour be very soon obtained, there is every reason to fear that it will become completely abandoned.' Of a second, 'speedy immigration alone can save this island from total ruin.' 'The prostrate condition of this once beautiful part of the coast,' are the words which begin another paragraph, describing another tract of country. Of a fourth, 'the proprietors on this coast seem to be keeping up a hopeless struggle against approaching ruin. Again, 'the once famous Arabian coast, so long the boast of the colony, presents now but a mournful picture of departed prosperity. Here were formerly situated some of the finest estates in the country, and a large resident body of proprietors lived in the district, and freely expended their incomes on the spot whence they derived them.' Once more, the lower part of the coast, after passing Devonshire Castle to the river Pomeroon, presents a scene of almost total desolation.' Such is Essequebo!" "Berbice," says Lord Stanley, "has fared no better: its rural population amounts to 18,000. Of these, 12,000 have withdrawn from the estates, and mostly from the neighbourhood of the white man, to enjoy a savage freedom of ignorance and idleness, beyond the reach of example and sometimes of control. But, on the condition of the negro I shall dwell more at length hereafter; at present it is the state of property with which I have to do. What are the districts which together form the county of Berbice? The Corentyne coast--the Canje Creek--East and West banks of the Berbice River--and the West coast, where, however, cotton was formerly the chief article produced. To each of these respectively the following passages, quoted in order, apply:-- "'The abandoned plantations on this coast,[17] which if capital and labour could be procured, might easily be made very productive, are either wholly deserted or else appropriated by hordes of squatters, who of course are unable to keep up at their own expense the public roads and bridges, and consequently all communication by land between the Corentyne and New Amsterdam is nearly at an end. The roads are impassable for horses or carriages, while for foot-passengers they are extremely dangerous. The number of villagers in this deserted region must be upward of 2500, and as the country abounds with fish and game, they have no difficulty in making a subsistence; in fact, the Corentyne coast is fast relapsing into a state of nature.' "'Canje Creek was formerly considered a flourishing district of the county, and numbered on its east bank seven sugar and three coffee estates, and on its west bank eight estates, of which two were in sugar and six in coffee, making a total of eighteen plantations. The coffee cultivation has long since been entirely abandoned, and of the sugar estates but eight still now remain. They are suffering severely for want of labour, and being supported principally by African and Coolie immigrants, it is much to be feared that if the latter leave and claim their return passages to India, a great part of the district will become abandoned.' "'Under present circumstances, so gloomy is the condition of affairs here,[18] that the two gentlemen whom your Commissioners have examined with respect to this district, both concur in predicting "its slow but sure approximation to the condition in which civilized man first found it.'" "'A district [19] that in 1829, gave employment to 3635 registered slaves, but at the present moment there are not more than 600 labourers at work on the few estates still in cultivation, although it is estimated there are upwards of 2000 people idling in villages of their own. The roads are in many parts several feet under water, and perfect swamps; while in some places the bridges are wanting altogether. In fact, the whole district is fast becoming a total wilderness, with the exception of the one or two estates which yet continue to struggle on, and which are hardly accessible now but by water.' "'Except in some of the best villages,[20] they care not for back or front dams to keep off the water; their side-lines are disregarded, and consequently the drainage is gone; while in many instances the public road is so completely flooded that canoes have to be used as a means of transit. The Africans are unhappily following the example of the Creoles in this district, and buying land, on which they settle in contented idleness; and your Commissioners cannot view instances like these without the deepest alarm, for if this pernicious habit of squatting is allowed to extend to the immigrants also, there is no hope for the colony.'" Under these circumstances it is that the London _Times_ furnishes its readers with the following paragraph,--and as that journal cannot be regarded as the opponent of the classes which have lately controlled the legislation of England, we may feel assured that its information is to be relied upon:-- "Our legislation has been dictated by the presumed necessities of the African slave. After the Emancipation Act, a large charge was assessed upon the colony in aid of civil and religious institutions for the benefit of the enfranchised negro, and it was hoped that those coloured subjects of the British Crown would soon be assimilated to their fellow-citizens. From all the information which has reached us, no less than from the visible probabilities of the case, _we are constrained to believe that these hopes have been falsified. The negro has not obtained with his freedom any habits of industry or morality. His independence is little better than that of an uncaptured brute_. Having accepted none of the restraints of civilization, he is amenable to few of its necessities, and the wants of his nature are so easily satisfied, that at the present rate of wages he is called upon for nothing but fitful or desultory exertion. _The blacks_, therefore, _instead of becoming intelligent husbandmen, have become vagrants and squatters, and it is now apprehended that with the failure of cultivation in the island will come the failure of its resources for instructing or controlling its population_. So imminent does this consummation appear, that memorials have been signed by classes of colonial society, hitherto standing aloof from politics, _and not only the bench and the bar, but the bishop, clergy, and the ministers of all denominations in the island, without exception, have recorded their conviction that in the absence of timely relief, the religious and educational institutions of the island must be abandoned, and the masses of the population retrograde to barbarism_." The _Prospective Review_, (Nov. 1852,) seeing what has happened in the British colonies, and speaking of the possibility of a similar course of action on this side of the Atlantic, says-- "We have had experience enough in our own colonies, not to wish to see the experiment tried elsewhere on a larger scale. It is true that from some of the smaller islands, where there is a superabundance of negro population and no room for squatters, the export of sugar has not been diminished: it is true that in Jamaica and Demerara, the commercial distress is largely attributable to the folly of the planters--who doggedly refuse to accommodate themselves to the new state of things, and to entice the negroes from the back settlements by a promise of fair wages. But we have no reason to suppose that the whole tragi-comedy would not be re-enacted in the Slave States of America, if slavery were summarily abolished by act of Congress to-morrow. Property among the plantations consists only of land and negroes: emancipate the negroes--and the planters have no longer any capital for the cultivation of the land. Put the case of compensation: though it be difficult to see whence it could come: there is every probability that the planters of Alabama, accustomed all their lives to get black labour for nothing, would be as unwilling to pay for it as their compeers in Jamaica: and there is plenty of unowned land on which the disbanded gangs might settle and no one question their right. It is allowed on all hands that the negroes as a race will not work longer than is necessary to supply the simplest comforts of life. It would be wonderful were it otherwise. A people have been degraded and ground down for a century and a half: systematically kept in ignorance for five generations of any needs and enjoyments beyond those of the savage: and then it is made matter of complaint that they will not apply themselves to labour for their higher comforts and more refined luxuries, of which they cannot know the value!" The systematic degradation here referred to is probably quite true as regards the British Islands, where 660,000 were all that remained of almost two millions that had been imported; but it is quite a mistake to suppose it so in regard to this country, in which there are now found ten persons for every one ever imported, and all advancing by gradual steps toward civilization and freedom; and yet were the reviewer discoursing of the conduct of the Spanish settlers of Hispaniola, he could scarcely speak more disparagingly of them than he does in regard to a people that alone has so treated the negro race as to enable it to increase in numbers, and improve in its physical, moral, and intellectual condition. Had he been more fully informed in relation to the proceedings in the British colonies, and in these colonies and states, he could scarcely have ventured to assert that "the responsibility of having degraded the African race rests upon the American people,"--the only people among whom they have been improved. Nevertheless, it is right and proper to give due weight to all opinions in regard to the existence of an evil, and to all recommendations in regard to the mode of removal, let them come from what source they may; and the writer of the article from which this passage is taken is certainly animated by a somewhat more liberal and catholic spirit than is found animating many of his countrymen. That the English system in regard to the emancipation of the negro has proved a failure is now admitted even by those who most warmly advocated the measures that have been pursued. "There are many," says the London _Times_, "who think that, with proper regulations, and particularly with a system for the self-enfranchisement of slaves, we might have brought about the entire emancipation of the British West Indies, with much less injury to the property of the planter and to the character of the negro than have resulted from the Abolition Act. Perhaps," it continues, "the warning will not be lost on the Americans, who may see the necessity of putting things in train for the ultimate abolition of slavery, and thereby save the sudden shock which the abolitionists may one day bring on all the institutions of the Union and the whole fabric of American society." The Falmouth [Jamaica] _Post_, of December 12, 1852, informs us that, even now, "in every parish of the island preparations are being made for the abandonment of properties that were once valuable, but on which cultivation can no longer be continued." "In Trelawny," it continues, "many estates have been thrown up during the last two years, and the exportation to the United States of America, within a few months, of upward of 80,000 tons of copper, which was used for the manufacture of sugar and rum, is one of the 'signs of the times,' to which the attention of the legislature should be seriously directed, in providing for the future maintenance of our various institutions, both public and parochial. Unless the salaries of all official characters are reduced, it will be utterly impossible to carry on the government of the colony." Eighty thousand tons of machinery heretofore used in aid of labour, or nearly one ton for every four persons on the island, exported within a few months! The _Bande Noire_ of France pulled down dwelling-houses and sold the materials, but as they left the machinery used by the labourers, their operations were less injurious than have been those of the negroes of Jamaica, the demand for whose labour must diminish with every step in the progress of the abandonment of land and the destruction of machinery. Under such circumstances we can feel little surprise at learning that every thing tends towards barbarism; nor is it extraordinary that a writer already quoted, and who is not to be suspected of any pro-slavery tendencies, puts the question, "Is it enough that they [the Americans] simply loose their chain and turn them adrift lower," as he is pleased to say, "than they found them?"[21] It is not enough. They need to be prepared for freedom. "Immediate emancipation," as he says, "solves only the simplest forms of the problem." The land-owner has been ruined and the labourer is fast relapsing into barbarism, and yet in face of this fact the land-owners of the Southern States are branded throughout the world as "tyrants" and "slave-breeders," because they will not follow in the same direction. It is in face of this great fact that the people of the North are invited to join in a crusade against their brethren of the South because they still continue to hold slaves, and that the men of the South are themselves so frequently urged to assent to immediate and unconditional emancipation. In all this there may be much philanthropy, but there is certainly much error,--and with a view to determine where it lies, as well as to show what is the true road to emancipation, it is proposed to inquire what has been, in the various countries of the world, the course by which men have passed from poverty to wealth, from ignorance and barbarism to civilization, and from slavery to freedom. That done, we may next inquire for the causes now operating to prevent the emancipation of the negro of America and the occupant of "the sweater's den" in London; and if they can once be ascertained, it will be then easy to determine what are the measures needful to be adopted with a view to the establishment of freedom throughout the world. CHAPTER V. HOW MAN PASSES FROM POVERTY AND SLAVERY TOWARD WEALTH AND FREEDOM. The first poor cultivator is surrounded by land unoccupied. _The more of it at his command the poorer he is._ Compelled to work alone, he is a slave to his necessities, and he can neither roll nor raise a log with which to build himself a house. He makes himself a hole in the ground, which serves in place of one. He cultivates the poor soil of the hills to obtain a little corn, with which to eke out the supply of food derived from snaring the game in his neighbourhood. His winter's supply is deposited in another hole, liable to injury from the water which filters through the light soil into which alone he can penetrate. He is in hourly danger of starvation. At length, however, his sons grow up. They combine their exertions with his, and now obtain something like an axe and a spade. They can sink deeper into the soil; and can cut logs, and build something like a house. They obtain more corn and more game, and they can preserve it better. The danger of starvation is diminished. Being no longer forced to depend for fuel upon the decayed wood which was all their father could command, they are in less danger of perishing from cold in the elevated ground which, from necessity, they occupy. With the growth of the family new soils are cultivated, each in succession yielding a larger return to labour, and they obtain a constantly increasing supply of the necessaries of life from a surface diminishing in its ratio to the number to be fed; and thus with every increase in the return to labour the power of combining their exertions is increased. If we look now to the solitary settler of the West, even where provided with both axe and spade, we shall see him obtaining, with extreme difficulty, the commonest log hut. A neighbour arrives, and their combined efforts produce a new house with less than half the labour required for the first. That neighbour brings a horse, and he makes something like a cart. The product of their labour is now ten times greater than was that of the first man working by himself. More neighbours come, and new houses are needed. A "bee" is made, and by the combined effort of the neighbourhood the third house is completed in a day; whereas the first cost months, and the second weeks, of far more severe exertion. These new neighbours have brought ploughs and horses, and now better soils are cultivated, and the product of labour is again increased, as is the power to preserve the surplus for winter's use. The path becomes a road. Exchanges increase. The store makes its appearance. Labour is rewarded by larger returns, because aided by better machinery applied to better soils. The town grows up. Each successive addition to the population brings a consumer and a producer. The shoemaker desires leather and corn in exchange for his shoes. The blacksmith requires fuel and food, and the farmer wants shoes for his horses; and with the increasing facility of exchange more labour is applied to production, and the reward of labour rises, producing new desires, and requiring more and larger exchanges. The road becomes a turnpike, and the wagon and horses are seen upon it. The town becomes a city, and better soils are cultivated for the supply of its markets, while the railroad facilitates exchanges with towns and cities yet more distant. The tendency to union and to combination of exertion thus grows with the growth of wealth. In a state of extreme poverty it cannot be developed. The insignificant tribe of savages that starves on the product of the superficial soil of hundreds of thousands of acres of land, looks with jealous eye on every intruder, knowing that each new mouth requiring to be fed tends to increase the difficulty of obtaining subsistence; whereas the farmer rejoices in the arrival of the blacksmith and the shoemaker, because they come to eat on the spot the corn which heretofore he has carried ten, twenty, or thirty miles to market, to exchange for shoes for himself and his horses. With each new consumer of his products that arrives he is enabled more and more to concentrate his action and his thoughts upon his home, while each new arrival tends to increase his _power_ of consuming commodities brought from a distance, because it tends to diminish his _necessity_ for seeking at a distance a market for the produce of his farm. Give to the poor tribe spades, and the knowledge how to use them, and the power of association will begin. The supply of food becoming more abundant, they hail the arrival of the stranger who brings them knives and clothing to be exchanged for skins and corn; wealth grows, and the habit of association--the first step toward civilization--arises. The little tribe is, however, compelled to occupy the higher lands. The lower ones are a mass of dense forests and dreary swamps, while at the foot of the hill runs a river, fordable but for a certain period of the year. On the hillside, distant a few miles, is another tribe; but communication between them is difficult, because, the river bottom being yet uncleared, roads cannot be made, and bridges are as yet unthought of. Population and wealth, however, continue to increase, and the lower lands come gradually into cultivation, yielding larger returns to labour, and enabling the tribe to obtain larger supplies of food with less exertion, and to spare labour to be employed for other purposes. Roads are made in the direction of the river bank. Population increases more rapidly because of the increased supplies of food and the increased power of preserving it, and wealth grows still more rapidly. The river bank at length is reached, and some of the best lands are now cleared. Population grows again, and a new element of wealth is seen in the form of a bridge; and now the two little communities are enabled to communicate more freely with each other. One rejoices in the possession of a wheelwright, while the other has a windmill. One wants carts, and the other has corn to grind. One has cloth to spare, while the other has more leather than is needed for its purpose. Exchanges increase, and the little town grows because of the increased amount of trade. Wealth grows still more rapidly, because of new modes of combining labour, by which that of all is rendered more productive. Roads are now made in the direction of other communities, and the work is performed rapidly, because the exertions of the two are now combined, and because the machinery used is more efficient. One after another disappear forests and swamps that have occupied the fertile lands, separating ten, twenty, fifty, or five hundred communities, which now are brought into connection with each other; and with each step labour becomes more and more productive, and is rewarded with better food, clothing, and shelter. Famine and disease disappear, life is prolonged, population is increased, and therewith the tendency to that combination of exertion among the individuals composing these communities, which is the distinguishing characteristic of civilization in all nations and in all periods of the world. With further increase of population and wealth, the desires of man, and his ability to gratify them, both increase. The nation, thus formed, has more corn than it needs; but it has no cotton, and its supply of wool is insufficient. The neighbouring nation has cotton and wool, and needs corn. They are still divided, however, by broad forests, deep swamps, and rapid rivers. Population increases, and the great forests and swamps disappear, giving place to rich farms, through which broad roads are made, with immense bridges, enabling the merchant to transport his wool and his cotton to exchange with his now-rich neighbours for their surplus corn or sugar. Nations now combine their exertions, and wealth grows with still increased rapidity, facilitating the drainage of marshes, and thus bringing into activity the richest soils; while coal-mines cheaply furnish the fuel for converting limestone into lime, and iron ore into axes and spades, and into rails for the new roads needed for transporting to market the vast products of the fertile soils now in use, and to bring back the large supplies of sugar, tea, coffee, and the thousand other products of distant lands with which intercourse now exists. At each step population and wealth and happiness and prosperity take a new bound; and men realize with difficulty the fact that the country, which now affords to tens of millions all the necessaries, comforts, conveniences, and luxuries of life, is the same that, when the superabundant land was occupied by tens of thousands only, gave to that limited number scanty supplies of the worst food; so scanty that famines were frequent and sometimes so severe that starvation was followed in its wake by pestilence, which, at brief intervals, swept from the earth the population of the little and scattered settlements, among which the people were forced to divide themselves when they cultivated only the poor soils of the hills. The course of events here described is in strict accordance with the facts observed in every country as it has grown in wealth and population. The early settlers of all the countries of the world are seen to have been slaves to their necessities--and often slaves to their neighbours; whereas, with the increase of numbers and the increased power of cultivation, they are seen passing from the poorer soils of the hills to the fertile soils of the river bottoms and the marshes, with constant increase in the return to labour, and constantly increasing power to determine for themselves for whom they will work, and what shall be their reward. This view is, however, in direct opposition to the theory of the occupation of land taught in the politico-economical school of which Malthus and Ricardo were the founders. By them we are assured that the settler commences always on the low and rich lands, and that, as population increases, men are required to pass toward the higher and poorer lands--and of course up the hill--with constantly diminishing return to labour, and thus that, as population grows, man becomes more and more a slave to his necessities, and to those who have power to administer to his wants, involving a necessity for dispersion throughout the world in quest of the rich lands upon which the early settler is supposed to commence his operations. It is in reference to this theory that Mr. J. S. Mill says-- "This general law of agricultural industry is the most important proposition in political economy. If the law were different, almost all the phenomena of the production and distribution of wealth would be other than they are." In the view thus presented by Mr. Mill there is no exaggeration. The law of the occupation of the land by man lies at the foundation of all political economy; and if we desire to know what it is that tends to the emancipation of the people of the earth from slavery, we must first satisfy ourselves that the theory of Messrs. Malthus and Ricardo has not only no foundation in fact, but that the law is directly the reverse, and tends, therefore, toward the adoption of measures directly opposed to those that would be needed were that theory true. The great importance of the question will excuse the occupation of a few minutes of the reader's attention in placing before him some facts tending to enable him to satisfy himself in regard to the universality of the law now offered for his consideration. Let him inquire where he may, he will find that the early occupant _did not_ commence in the flats, or on the heavily timbered-land, but that he _did_ commence on the higher land, where the timber was lighter, and the place for his house was dry. With increasing ability, he is found draining the swamps, clearing the heavy timber, turning up the marl, or burning the lime, and thus acquiring control over more fertile soils, yielding a constant increase in the return to labour. Let him then trace the course of early settlement, and he will find that while it has often followed the course of the streams, it has always avoided the swamps and river bottoms. The earliest settlements of this country were on the poorest lands of the Union--those of New England. So was it in New York, where we find the railroads running through the lower and richer, and yet uncultivated, lands, while the higher lands right and left have long been cultivated. So is it now in Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Ohio. In South Carolina it has been made the subject of remark, in a recent discourse, that their predecessors did not select the rich lands, and that millions of acres of the finest meadow-land in that State still remain untouched. The settler in the prairies commences on the higher and drier land, leaving the wet prairie and the _slough_--the richest soil--for his successors. The lands below the mouth of the Ohio are among the richest in the world; yet they are unoccupied, and will continue so to be until wealth and population shall have greatly increased. So is it now with the low and rich lands of Mexico. So was it in South America, the early cultivation of which was upon the poor lands of the western slope, Peru and Chili, while the rich lands of the Amazon and the La Plata remained, as most of them still remain, a wilderness. In the West Indies, the small dry islands were early occupied, while Porto Rico and Trinidad, abounding in rich soils, remained untouched. The early occupants of England were found on the poorer lands of the centre and south of the kingdom, as were those of Scotland in the Highlands, or on the little rocky islands of the Channel. Mona's Isle was celebrated while the rich soil of the Lothians remained an almost unbroken mass of forest, and the morasses of Lancashire were the terror of travellers long after Hampshire had been cleared and cultivated. If the reader desire to find the birthplace of King Arthur and the earliest seat of English power, he must look to the vicinity of the royal castle of Tintagel, in the high and dry Cornwall. Should he desire other evidence of the character of the soil cultivated at the period when land abounded and men were few in number, he may find it in the fact that in some parts of England there is scarcely a hill top that does not bear evidence of early occupation,[22] and in the further fact that the mounds, or barrows, are almost uniformly composed of stone, because those memorials "are found most frequently where stone was more readily obtained than earth."[23] Caesar found the Gauls occupying the high lands surrounding the Alps, while the rich Venetia remained a marsh. The occupation of the Campagna followed long after that of the Samnite hills, and the earliest settlers of the Peloponnesus cultivated the high and dry Arcadia, while the cities of the Argive kings of the days of Homer, Mycenae and Tiryns, are found in eastern Argolis, a country so poor as to have been abandoned prior to the days of the earliest authentic history. The occupation of the country around Meroë, and of the Thebaid, long preceded that of the lower lands surrounding Memphis, or the still lower and richer ones near Alexandria. The negro is found in the higher portions of Africa, while the rich lands along the river courses are uninhabited. The little islands of Australia, poor and dry, are occupied by a race far surpassing in civilization those of the neighbouring continent, who have rich soils at command. The poor Persia is cultivated, while the rich soils of the ancient Babylonia are only ridden over by straggling hordes of robbers.[24] Layard had to seek the hills when he desired to find a people at home. Affghanistan and Cashmere were early occupied, and thence were supplied the people who moved toward the deltas of the Ganges and the Indus, much of both of which still remains, after so many thousands of years, in a state of wilderness. Look where we may, it is the same. The land obeys the same great and universal law that governs light, power, and heat. The man who works alone and has poor machinery must cultivate poor land, and content himself with little light, little power, and little heat, and those, like his food, obtained in exchange for much labour; while he who works in combination with his fellow-men may have good machinery, enabling him to clear and cultivate rich land, giving him much food, and enabling him to obtain much light, much heat, and much power, in exchange for little labour. The first is _a creature of necessity_--a slave--and as such is man universally regarded by Mr. Ricardo and his followers. The second is _a being of power_--a freeman--and as such was man regarded by Adam Smith, who taught that the more men worked in combination with each other, the greater would be the facility of obtaining food and all other of the necessaries and comforts of life--and the more widely they were separated, the less would be the return to labour and capital, and the smaller the power of production, as common sense teaches every man must necessarily be the case. It will now readily be seen how perfectly accurate was Mr. Mill in his assertion that, "if the law were different, almost all the phenomena of the production and distribution of wealth would be other than they are." The doctrine of Malthus and Ricardo tends to make the labourer a slave to the owner of landed or other capital; but happily it has no foundation in fact, and therefore the natural laws of the production and distribution of wealth tend not to slavery, but to freedom. CHAPTER VI. HOW WEALTH TENDS TO INCREASE. The first poor cultivator commences, as we have seen, his operations on the hillside. Below him are lands upon which have been carried by force of water the richer portions of those above, as well as the leaves of trees, and the fallen trees themselves, all of which have from time immemorial rotted and become incorporated with the earth, and thus have been produced soils fitted to yield the largest returns to labour; yet for this reason are they inaccessible. Their character exhibits itself in the enormous trees with which they are covered, and in their power of retaining the water necessary to aid the process of decomposition, but the poor settler wants the power either to clear them of their timber, or to drain them of the superfluous moisture. He begins on the hillside, but by degrees he obtains better machinery of cultivation, and with each step in this direction we find him descending the hill and obtaining larger return to labour. He has more food for himself, and he has now the means of feeding a horse or an ox. Aided by the manure that is thus yielded to him by the better lands, we see him next retracing his steps, improving the hillside, and compelling it to yield a return double that which he at first obtained. With each step down the hill, he obtains still larger reward for his labour, and at each he returns, with increased power, to the cultivation of the original poor soil. He has now horses and oxen, and while by their aid he extracts from the new soils the manure that had accumulated for ages, he has also carts and wagons to carry it up the hill; and at each step his reward is increased, while his labours are lessened. He goes back to the sand and raises the marl, with which he covers the surface; or he returns to the clay and sinks into the limestone, by aid of which he doubles its product. He is all the time making a machine which feeds him while he makes it, and which increases in its powers the more he takes from it. At first it was worthless. Having now fed and clothed him for years, it has acquired a large value, and those who might desire to use it would pay him a large rent for permission so to do. The earth is a great machine given to man to be fashioned to his purpose. The more he works it, the better it feeds him, because each step is but preparatory to a new one more productive than the last--requiring less labour and yielding larger return. The labour of clearing is great, yet the return is small. The earth is covered with stumps, and filled with roots. With each year the roots decay, and the ground becomes enriched, while the labour of ploughing is diminished. At length, the stumps disappear, and the return is doubled, while the labour is less by one-half than at first. To forward this process the owner has done nothing but crop the ground, nature having done the rest. The aid he thus obtains from her yields him as much food as in the outset was obtained by the labour of felling the trees. This, however, is not all. The surplus thus yielded has given him means of improving the poorer lands, by furnishing manure with which to enrich them, and thus has he trebled his original return without further labour; for that which he saves in working the new soils suffices to carry the manure to the older ones. He is obtaining a daily increased power over the various treasures of the earth. With every operation connected with the fashioning of the earth, the result is the same. The first step is, invariably, the most costly one, and the least productive. The first drain commences near the stream, where the labour is heaviest. It frees from water but a few acres. A little higher, the same quantity of labour, profiting by what has been already done, frees twice the number. Again the number is doubled; and now the most perfect system of thorough drainage may be established with less labour than was at first required for one of the most imperfect kind. To bring the lime into connection with the clay, upon fifty acres, is lighter labour than was the clearing of a single one, yet the process doubles the return for each acre of fifty. The man who needs a little fuel for his own use, expends much labour in opening the neighbouring vein of coal; but to enlarge this, so as to double the product, is a work of comparatively small labour. To sink a shaft to the first vein below the surface, and erect a steam-engine, are expensive operations; but these once accomplished, every future step becomes more productive, while less costly. To sink to the next vein below, and to tunnel to another, are trifles in comparison with the first, yet each furnishes a return equally large. The first line of railroad runs by houses and towns occupied by two or three hundred thousand persons. Half a dozen little branches, costing together far less labour than the first, bring into connection with it half a million, or perhaps a million. The trade increases, and a second track, a third, or a fourth, may be required. The original one facilitates the passage of the materials and the removal of the obstructions, and three new ones may now be made with less labour than was at first required for a single one. All labour thus expended in fashioning the great machine is but the prelude to the application of further labour, with still increased returns. With each such application, wages rise, and hence it is that portions of the machine, as it exists, invariably exchange, when brought to market, for far less labour than they have cost. There is thus a steady decline of the value of capital in labour, and a daily increase in the power of labour over capital, and with each step in this direction man becomes more free. The man who cultivated the thin soils was happy to obtain a hundred bushels for his year's work. With the progress of himself and his neighbour down the hill into the more fertile soils, wages have risen, and two hundred bushels are now required. His farm will yield a thousand bushels; but it requires the labour of four men, who must have two hundred bushels each, and the surplus is but two hundred bushels. At twenty years' purchase this gives a capital of four thousand bushels, or the equivalent of twenty years' wages; whereas it has cost, in the labour of himself, his sons, and his assistants, the equivalent of a hundred years of labour, or perhaps far more. During all this time, however, it has fed and clothed them all, and the farm has been produced by the insensible contributions made from year to year, unthought of and unfelt. It has become worth twenty years' wages, because its owner has for years taken from it a thousand bushels annually; but when it had lain for centuries accumulating wealth it was worth nothing. Such is the case with the earth everywhere. The more that is taken from it the more there is to be returned, and the greater our power to draw upon it. When the coal-mines of England were untouched, they were valueless. Now their value is almost countless; yet the land contains abundant supplies for thousands of years. Iron ore, a century since, was a drug, and leases were granted at almost nominal rents. Now, such leases are deemed equivalent to the possession of large fortunes, notwithstanding the great quantities that have been removed, although the amount of ore now known to exist is probably fifty times greater than it was then. _The earth is the sole producer._ From her man receives the corn and the cotton-wool, and all that he can do is to change them in their form, or in their place. The first he may convert into bread, and the last into cloth, and both maybe transported to distant places, but there his power ends. He can make no addition to their quantity. A part of his labour is applied to the preparation and improvement of the great machine of production, and this produces changes that are permanent. The drain, once cut, remains a drain; and the limestone, once reduced to lime, never again becomes limestone. It passes into the food of man and animals, and ever after takes its part in the same round with the clay with which it has been incorporated. The iron rusts and gradually passes into soil, to take its part with the clay and the lime. That portion of his labour gives him wages while preparing the machine for greater future production. That other portion which he expends on fashioning and exchanging _the products_ of the machine, produces temporary results and gives him wages alone. Whatever tends to diminish the quantity of labour required for the production of food tends to enable him to give more to the preparation of machinery required for the fashioning and exchanging of the products; and that machinery in its turn tends to augment the quantity that may be given to increasing the amount of products, and to preparing the great machine; and thus, while increasing the present return to labour, preparing for a future further increase. The first poor cultivator obtains a hundred bushels for his year's wages. To pound this between two stones requires many days of labour, and the work is not half done. Had he a mill in the neighbourhood he would have better flour, and he would have almost the whole of those days to bestow upon his land. He pulls up his grain. Had he a scythe, he would have more time for the preparation of the machine of production. He loses his axe, and it requires days of himself and his horse on the road, to obtain another. His machine loses the time and the manure, both of which would have been saved had the axe-maker been at hand. The real advantage derived from the mill and the scythe, and from the proximity of the axe-maker, consists simply in the power which they afford him to devote his labour more and more to the preparation of the great machine of production, and such is the case with all the machinery of conversion and exchange. The plough enables him to do as much in one day as with a spade he could do in five. He saves four days for drainage. The steam-engine drains as much as, without it, could be drained by thousands of days of labour. He has more leisure to marl or lime his land. The more he can extract from his property the greater is its value, because every thing he takes is, by the very act of taking it, fashioned to aid further production. The machine, therefore, improves by use, whereas spades, and ploughs, and steam-engines, and all other of the instruments used by man, are but the various forms into which he fashions parts of the great original machine, to disappear in the act of being used; as much so as food, though not so rapidly. The earth is the great labour-savings' bank, and the value to man of all other machines is in the direct ratio of their tendency to aid him in increasing his deposites in that only bank whose dividends are perpetually increasing, while its capital is perpetually doubling. That it may continue for ever so to do, all that it asks is that it shall receive back the refuse of its produce, the manure; and that it may do so, the consumer and the producer must take their places by each other. That done, every change that is effected becomes permanent, and tends to facilitate other and greater changes. The whole business of the farmer consists in making and improving soils, and the earth rewards him for his kindness by giving him more and more food the more attention he bestows upon her. All that he receives from her must be regarded as a loan, and when he fails to pay his debts, she starves him out. The absolute necessity for returning to the land the manure yielded by its products is so generally admitted that it would appear scarcely necessary to do more than state the fact; for every land-owner knows that when he grants the lease of a farm, one of the conditions he desires to insert is, that all the hay that is made shall be fed upon the land, and that manure shall be purchased to supply the waste resulting from the sale of corn or flax from off the land. In order, however, that it may be so supplied, it is indispensable that the place of consumption shall not be far distant from the place of production, as otherwise the cost of transportation will be greater than the value of the manure. In a recent work on the agriculture of Mecklenburgh, it is stated that a quantity of grain that would be worth close to market fifteen hundred dollars would be worth nothing at a distance of fifty German, or about two hundred English miles, from it, as the whole value would be absorbed in the cost of transporting the grain to market and the manure from market--and that the manure which close to the town would be worth five dollars to the farmer, would be worth nothing at a distance of 4-3/4 German, or 19 English miles from it--and that thus the whole question of the value of land and the wealth of its owner was dependent upon its distance from the place at which its products could be exchanged. At a greater distance than 28 German, or 112 English miles, in Mecklenburgh, the land ceases to yield rent, because it cannot be cultivated without loss. As we approach the place of exchange the value of land increases, from the simultaneous action of two causes: First, a greater variety of commodities can be cultivated, and the advantage resulting from a rotation of crops is well known. At a distance, the farmer can raise only those of which the earth yields but little, and which are valuable in proportion to their little bulk--as, for instance, wheat or cotton; but near the place of exchange he may raise potatoes, turnips, cabbages, and hay, of which the bulk is great in proportion to the value. Second, the cost of returning the manure to the land increases as the value of the products of land diminishes with the increase of distance; and from the combination of these two causes, land in Mecklenburgh that would be worth, if close to the town or city, an annual rent of 29,808 dollars, would be worth at a distance of but 4 German, or 16 English, miles, only 7,467 dollars. We see thus, how great is the tendency to the growth of wealth as men are enabled more and more to combine their exertions with those of their fellow-men, consuming on or near the land the products of the land, and enabling the farmer, not only to repair readily the exhaustion caused by each successive crop, but also to call to his aid the services of the chemist in the preparation of artificial manures, as well as to call into activity the mineral ones by which he is almost everywhere surrounded. We see, too, how much it must be opposed to the interests of every community to have its products exported in their rude state, and thus to have its land exhausted. The same author from whom the above quotations have been made informs us that when the manure is not returned to the land the yield must diminish from year to year, until at length it will not be more than one-fourth of what it had originally been: and this is in accordance with all observation. The natural tendency of the loom and the anvil to seek to take their place by the side of the plough and harrow, is thus exhibited by ADAM SMITH:-- "An inland country, naturally fertile and easily cultivated, produces a great surplus of provisions beyond what is necessary for maintaining the cultivators; and on account of the expense of land carriage, and inconveniency of river navigation, it may frequently be difficult to send this surplus abroad. Abundance, therefore, renders provisions cheap, and encourages a great number of workmen to settle in the neighbourhood, who find that their industry can there procure them more of the necessaries and conveniences of life than in other places. They work up the materials of manufacture which the land produces, and exchange their finished work, or, what is the same thing, the price of it, for more materials and provisions. _They give a new value to the surplus part of the rude produce, by saving the expense of carrying it to the waterside, or to some distant market_; and they furnish the cultivators with something in exchange for it, that is either useful or agreeable to them, upon easier terms than they could have obtained it before. _The cultivators get a better price for their surplus produce, and can purchase cheaper other conveniences which they have occasion for._ They are thus both encouraged and enabled to increase this surplus produce by a further improvement and better cultivation of the land; and _as the fertility of the land has given birth to the manufacture, so the progress of the manufacture reacts upon the land, and increases still further its fertility_. The manufacturers first supply the neighbourhood, and afterward, as their work improves and refines, more distant markets. _For though neither the rude produce, nor even the coarse manufacture, could, without the greatest difficulty, support the expense of a considerable land carriage, the refined and improved manufacture easily may._ In a small bulk it frequently contains the price of a great quantity of the raw produce. A piece of fine cloth, for example, which weighs, only eighty pounds, contains in it the price, not only of eighty pounds of wool, but sometimes of several thousand weight of corn, the maintenance of the different working people, and of their immediate employers. _The corn which could with difficulty have been carried abroad in its own shape, is in this manner virtually exported in that of the complete manufacture, and may easily be sent to the remotest corners of the world._" Again: "The greater the number and revenue of the inhabitants of the town, the more extensive is the market which it affords to those of the country; and the more extensive that market, it is always the more advantageous to a great number. The corn which grows within a mile of the town, sells there for the same price with that which comes from twenty miles distance. But the price of the latter must, generally, not only pay the expense of raising it and bringing it to market, but afford, too, the ordinary profits, of agriculture to the farmer. The proprietors and cultivators of the country, therefore, which lies in the neighbourhood of the town, over and above the ordinary profits of agriculture, gain, in the price of what they sell, the whole value of the carriage of the like produce that is brought from more distant parts; and they save, besides, the whole value of this carriage in the price of what they buy. Compare the cultivation of the lands in the neighbourhood of any considerable town, with that of those which lie at some distance from it, and you will easily satisfy yourself how much the country is benefited by the commerce of the town." These views are in perfect accordance with the facts. The labourer rejoices when the market for his labour is brought to his door by the erection of a mill or a furnace, or the construction of a road. The farmer rejoices in the opening of a market for labour at his door giving him a market for his food. His land rejoices in the home consumption of the products it has yielded, for its owner is thereby enabled to return to it the refuse of its product in the form of manure. The planter rejoices in the erection of a mill in his neighbourhood, giving him a market for his cotton and his food. The parent rejoices when a market for their labour enables his sons and his daughters to supply themselves with food and clothing. Every one rejoices in the growth of a home market for labour and its products, for trade is then increasing daily and rapidly; and every one mourns the diminution of the home market, for it is one the deficiency of which cannot be supplied. With each step in this direction man becomes more and more free as land becomes more valuable and labour becomes more productive, and as the land becomes more divided. The effect of this upon both the man and the land is thus exhibited by Dr. Smith:-- "A small proprietor, who knows every part of his little territory, views it with all the affection which property, especially small property, naturally inspires, and who upon that account takes pleasure not only in cultivating, but in adorning it, is generally of all improvers the most industrious, the most intelligent, and the most successful." The tendency of the land to become divided as wealth and population increase will be obvious to the reader on an examination of the facts of daily occurrence in and near a growing town or city; and the contrary tendency to the consolidation of land in few hands may be seen in the neighbourhood of all declining towns or cities, and throughout all declining states.[25] CHAPTER VII. HOW LABOUR ACQUIRES VALUE AND MAN BECOMES FREE. The proximity of the market enables the farmer not only to enrich his land and to obtain from it far more than he could otherwise do, but it also produces a demand for many things that would otherwise be wasted. In the West, men set no value upon straw, and in almost every part of this country the waste arising out of the absence of a market for any commodities but those which can be carried to a distance, must strike every traveller. Close to the town or city, almost every thing has some value. So too with labour, the value of which, like that of land, tends to increase with every increase in the facility of exchanging its products. The solitary settler has to occupy the spots that, with his rude machinery, he _can_ cultivate. Having neither horse nor cart, he carries home his crop upon his shoulders, as is now done in many parts of India. He carries a hide to the place of exchange, distant, perhaps, fifty miles, to obtain for it leather, or shoes. Population increases, and roads are made. The fertile soils are cultivated. The store and the mill come nearer to him, and he obtains shoes and flour with the use of less machinery of exchange. He has more leisure for the improvement of his land, and the returns to labour increase. More people now obtain food from the same surface, and new places of exchange appear. The wool is, on the spot, converted into cloth, and he exchanges directly with the clothier. The saw-mill is at hand, and he exchanges with the sawyer. The tanner gives him leather for his hides, and the papermaker gives him paper for his rags. With each of these changes he has more and more of both time and manure to devote to the preparation of the great food-making machine, and with each year the returns are larger. His _power to command_ the use of the machinery of exchange increases, but his _necessity_ therefor diminishes, for with each there is an increasing tendency toward having the consumer placed side by side with the producer, and with each he can devote more and more of his time and mind to the business of fashioning the great machine to which he is indebted for food and clothing; and thus the increase of a consuming population is essential to the progress of production. Diversification of employments, resulting from combination of action, thus enables men to economize labour and to increase production. Increased production, on the other hand, makes a demand for labour. The more wheat raised and the more cloth made, the more there will be to give in exchange for labour, the greater will be the number of persons seeking for labourers, and the greater will be the power of men to determine for themselves the mode in which they will employ their time or their talents. If, therefore, we desire to see men advance in freedom, we must endeavour to increase the productive power; and that, as we see, grows with the growth of the power to improve the land, while it diminishes with every diminution in the power to return to the land the manure yielded by its products. In purely agricultural countries there is little demand for labour, and it always tends to diminish, as may be proved by any reader of this volume who may chance to occupy a purely agricultural neighbourhood. Let him look around him, and he will, without difficulty, find hundreds of men, and hundreds of women and children, wasting more time than would, if properly employed, purchase twice the clothing and twice the machinery of production they are now enabled to obtain. Why, however, he will probably ask, is it that they do so waste it? Because there is no demand for it, except in agriculture; and when that is the case, there must necessarily be great waste of time. At one season of the year the farm requires much labour, while at another it needs but little; and if its neighbours are all farmers, they are all in the same situation. If the weather is fit for ploughing, they and their horses and men are all employed. If it is not, they are all idle. In winter they have all of them little to do; in harvest-time they are all overrun with work; and crops frequently perish on the ground for want of the aid required for making them. Now, it would seem to be quite clear that if there existed some other mode of employment that would find a demand for the surplus labour of the neighbourhood, all would be benefited. The man who had a day's labour to sell could sell it, and, with the proceeds of the labour of a very few days, now wasted, could purchase clothing for his children, if, indeed, the labour of those children, now also wasted, did not more than pay for all the clothing, not only of themselves, but of his wife and himself. In order that the reader may see clearly how this state of things affects all labourers, even those who are employed, we must now ask him to examine with us the manner in which the prices of all commodities are affected by excess of supply over demand, or of demand over supply. It is well known to every farmer, that when the crop of peaches, or of potatoes, is, _in even a very small degree_, in excess of the regular demand, the existence of that small surplus so far diminishes the price that the larger crop will not yield as much as a much smaller one would have done. It is also known to them that when the crop is a little less than is required to supply the demand, the advance in price is large, and the farmer then grows rich. In this latter case the purchasers are looking for the sellers, whereas in the former one the sellers have to seek the buyers. Now, labour is a commodity that some desire to sell, and that others desire to buy, precisely as is the case with potatoes; but it has this disadvantage when compared with any other commodity, that it is less easily transferred from the place where it exists to that at which it is needed, and that the loss resulting from _the absence of demand on the spot_ is greater than in reference to _any other commodity whatsoever_. The man who raises a hundred bushels of peaches, of which only seventy are needed at home, can send the remainder to a distance of a hundred or a thousand miles, and the loss he sustains is only that which results from the fact that the price of the whole is determined by what he can obtain for the surplus bushels, burdened as they are with heavy cost of transportation, that he must lose; for the man that _must_ go to a distant market must always pay the expense of getting there. This is a heavy loss certainly, but it is trivial when compared with that sustained by him who has labour to sell, because _that_, like other very perishable commodities, cannot be carried to another market, and _must be wasted_. If he has two spare hours a day to sell, he finds that they waste themselves in the very act of seeking a distant market, and his children may go in rags, or even suffer from hunger, because of his inability to find a purchaser for the only commodity he has to sell. So, too, with the man who has days, weeks, or months of labour for which he desires to find a purchaser. Unwilling to leave his wife and his children, to go to a distance, he remains to be a constant weight upon the labour market, and must continue so to remain until there shall arise increased competition for the purchase of labour. It is within the knowledge of every one who reads this, whether he be shoemaker, hatter, tailor, printer, brickmaker, stonemason, or labourer, that a very few unemployed men in his own pursuit keep down the wages of all shoemakers, all hatters, all tailors, or printers; whereas, wages rise when there is a demand for a few more than are at hand. The reason for this is to be found in the difficulty of transferring labour from the place at which it exists to that at which it is needed; and it is to that we have to attribute the fact that the tendency to depression in the wages of all labour is so very great when there is even a very small excess of supply, and the tendency to elevation so great when there is even a very small excess of demand. Men starve in Ireland for want of employment, and yet the distance between them and the people who here earn a dollar a day, is one that could be overcome at the expense of fifteen or twenty dollars. Wages may be high in one part of the Union and low in another, and yet thousands must remain to work at low ones, because of the difficulty of transporting themselves, their wives, and their families, to the places at which their services are needed. Every such man tends to keep down the wages, of _all other men who have labour to sell_, and therefore every man is interested in having all other men fully employed, and to have the demand grow faster than the supply. This is the best state of things for all, capitalists and labourers; whereas, to have the supply in excess of the demand is injurious to all, employers and employed. All profit by increase in the competition for the purchase of labour, and all suffer from increased competition for the sale of it. We had occasion, but a little while since, to visit a factory in which were employed two hundred females of various ages, from fourteen to twenty, who were earning, on an average, three dollars per week, making a total of six hundred dollars per week, or thirty thousand dollars a year; or as much as would, buy five hundred thousand yards of cotton cloth. Now supposing these two hundred females to represent one hundred families, it would follow that their labour produced five thousand yards of cloth per family, being probably three times as much in value as the total consumption of clothing by all its members, from, the parent down to the infant child. Let us now suppose this factory closed; what then would be the value of the labour of these girls, few of whom have strength for field-work even if our habits of thought permitted that it should be so employed? It would be almost nothing, for they could do little except house-work, and the only effect of sending them home would be that, whereas one person, fully employed, performs now the labour of the house, it would henceforth be divided between two or three, all of whom would gradually lose the habit of industry they have been acquiring. The direct effect of this would be a diminution in the demand for female labour, and a diminution of its reward. While the factory continues in operation there is competition for the purchase of such labour. The parent desires to retain at least one child. A neighbour desires to hire another, and the factory also desires one. To supply these demands requires all the females of the neighbourhood capable of working and not provided with families of their own, and thus those who are willing to work have the choice of employers and employment; while the competition for the purchase of their services tends to raise the rate of wages. If, now, in the existing state of things, another factory were established in, the same neighbourhood, requiring a hundred or a hundred and fifty more females, the effect would be to establish increased competition for the purchase of labour, attended by increased power of choice on the part of the labourer, and increased reward of labour--and it is in this increased power of choice that freedom consists. If, on the contrary, the factories were closed, the reverse effect would be produced, the competition for the purchase of labour being diminished, with corresponding diminution of the power of choice on the part of the labourer, diminution in his compensation, and diminution of freedom. What is true with regard to the females of this neighbourhood is equally true with regard to the men, women, and children of the world. Wherever there exists competition for the purchase of labour, there the labourer has his choice among employers, and the latter are not only required to pay higher wages, but they are also required to treat their workmen and workwomen with the consideration that is due to fellow-beings equal in rights with themselves: but wherever there is not competition for the purchase of labour, the labourer is compelled to work for any who are willing to employ him, and to receive at the hands of his employer low wages and the treatment of a slave, for slave he is. Here is a plain and simple proposition, the proof of which every reader can test for himself. If he lives in a neighbourhood in which there exists competition for the purchase of labour, he knows that he can act as becomes a freeman in determining for whom he will work, and the price he is willing to receive for his services; but if he lives in one in which there is competition for the sale of labour, he knows well that it does not rest with him to determine either where he will work or what shall be his wages. Where all are farmers, there can be no competition for the purchase of labour, except for a few days in harvest; but there must be competition for the sale of labour during all the rest of the year. Of course, where all are farmers or planters, the man who has labour to sell is at the mercy of the few who desire to buy it, as is seen in our Southern States, where the labourer is a slave; and in Ireland, where his condition is far worse than that of the slaves of the South; and in India, where men sell themselves for long terms of years to labour in the West Indies; and in Portugal, where competition for the purchase of labour has no existence. Where, on the contrary, there is a diversification of employments, there is a steady improvement in the condition of men, as they more and more acquire the power to determine for themselves for whom they will work and what shall be their reward, as is seen in the rapid improvement in the condition of the people of France, Belgium, and Germany, and especially of those of Russia, where competition for the purchase of labour is increasing with wonderful rapidity. Diversification of employment is absolutely necessary to produce competition for the purchase of labour. The shoemaker does not need to purchase shoes, nor does the miner need to buy coal, any more than the farmer needs to buy wheat or potatoes. Bring them together, and combine with them the hatter, the tanner, the cotton-spinner, the maker of woollen cloth, and the smelter and roller of iron, and each of them becomes a competitor for the purchase of the labour, or the products of the labour, of all the others, and the wages of all rise with the increase of competition. In order that labour may be productive, it must be aided by machinery. The farmer could do little with his hands, but when aided by the plough and the harrow he may raise much wheat and corn. He could carry little on his shoulders, but he may transport much when aided by a horse and wagon, and still more when aided by a locomotive engine or a ship. He could convert little grain into flour when provided only with a pestle and mortar, but he may do much when provided with a mill. His wife could convert little cotton into cloth when provided only with a spinning-wheel and hand-loom, but her labour becomes highly productive when aided by the spinning-jenny and the power-loom. The more her labours and those of her husband are thus aided the larger will be the quantity of grain produced, the more speedily will it be converted into flour, the more readily will it be carried to market, the larger will be the quantity of cloth for which it will exchange, the greater will be the quantity of food and clothing to be divided among the labourers, and the greater will be the facility on the part of the labourer to acquire machinery of his own, and to become his own employer, and thus to increase that diversification in the employment of labour which tends to increase the competition for its purchase. It will next, we think, be quite clear to the reader that _the nearer_ the grist-mill is to the farm, the less will be the labour required for converting the wheat into flour, the more will be the labour that may be given to the improvement of the farm, and the greater will be the power of the farmer to purchase shoes, hats, coats, ploughs, or harrows, and thus to create a demand for labour. Equally clear will it be that _the nearer_ he can bring the hatter, the shoemaker, and the tailor, the maker of ploughs and harrows, the less will be the loss of labour in exchanging his wheat for their commodities, and the greater will be his power to purchase books and newspapers, to educate his children, and thus to introduce new varieties in the demand for labour; and each such new variety in the demand for that commodity tends to raise the wages of those engaged in all other pursuits. If there be none but farmers, all are seeking employment on a farm. Open a carpenter's or a blacksmith's shop, and the men employed therein will cease to be competitors for farm labour, and wages will tend to rise. Open a mine, or quarry stone and build a mill, and here will be a new competition for labour that will tend to produce a rise in the wages of all labourers. Build a dozen mills, and men will be required to get out timber and stone, and to make spindles, looms, and steam-engines; and when the mills are completed, the demand for labour will withdraw hundreds of men that would be otherwise competitors for employment in the ploughing of fields, the making of shoes or coats, and hundreds of women that would otherwise be seeking to employ themselves in binding shoes or making shirts. Competition for the purchase of labour grows, therefore, with every increase in the diversification of employment, with constant tendency to increase in the reward of labour. It declines with every diminution in the modes of employing labour, with steady tendency to decline in wages. If the reader will now trace the course of man toward freedom, in the various nations of the world, he will see that his progress has been in the ratio of the growth of towns at which he and his neighbours could exchange the products of their labour, and that it has declined as the near towns have given way to the distant cities. The people of Attica did not need to go abroad to effect their exchanges, and therefore they became rich and free; whereas the Spartans, who tolerated nothing but agriculture, remained poor and surrounded by hosts of slaves. The towns and cities of Italy gave value to the land by which they were surrounded, and freedom to the people by whom that land was cultivated. So was it in Holland, and in Belgium, and so again in England. In each and all of these land increased in value with every increase in the facility of exchanging its products for clothing and machinery, and with each step in this direction men were enabled more readily to maintain and to increase the power of the land, and to permit larger numbers to obtain increased supplies from the same surfaces. Association thus increased the power of accumulating wealth, and wealth thus diminished in its power over labour, while with augmented numbers the people everywhere found an increase in their power to assert and to defend their rights. Having reflected on the facts presented to him in the pages of history, and having satisfied himself that they are in perfect accordance with the views here presented, the reader will perhaps find himself disposed to admit, the correctness of the following propositions:-- I. That the nearer the market the less must be the cost to the farmer for transporting his products to market and for bringing back the manure to maintain and improve his land. II. That the nearer the market the less must be the loss of labour in going to market, and the greater the quantity that can be given to the improvement of the land. III. That the more the labour and manure that can be given to land, the larger will be the product and the greater its value. IV. That the larger the quantity of commodities produced the greater will be the demand for labour to be employed in converting them into forms that fit them for consumption, and the larger the quantity to be divided among the labourers. V. That the greater the competition for the purchase of labour the greater must be the tendency toward the freedom of the labourer. VI. That the freedom of man in thought, speech, action, and trade, tends thus to keep pace with increase in the habit of association among men, and increase in the value of land;--and VII. That the interests of the labourer and land-owner are thus in perfect harmony with each other, the one becoming free as the other becomes rich. Equally correct will be found the following propositions:-- I. That the more distant the market the greater must be the cost to the farmer for transporting his products to market, the greater must be the difficulty of obtaining manure, and the more must his land be impoverished. II. That the more distant the market the greater must be the loss of labour on the road, and the less the quantity that can be given to the improvement of the land. III. That the less the labour and manure applied to the land the less must be the product, and the less its value. IV. That the longer this process is continued the poorer must become the land, until at length it ceases to have value, and must be abandoned. V. That the smaller the quantity of commodities produced the less must be the demand for labour to be employed in their conversion, and the less the quantity to be divided among the labourers. VI. That the less the competition for the purchase of labour the less must be the power of the labourer to determine for whom he will work, or what must be his reward, and the greater the tendency toward his becoming enslaved. VII. That the tendency toward slavery tends thus to keep pace with the decline in the habit of association among men, and the loss of value in land;--and VIII. That thus the labourer and land-owner suffer together, the one becoming enslaved as the other becomes impoverished. If evidence be desired of the correctness of these propositions, it may found in the history of Egypt, Greece, Rome, Mexico, and of every other country that has declined in wealth and population. CHAPTER VIII. HOW MAN PASSES FROM WEALTH AND FREEDOM TOWARD POVERTY AND SLAVERY. The views that have thus been presented are entirely in harmony those of the illustrious author of "The Wealth of Nations." "In seeking for employment to a capital," says Dr. Smith, "Manufactures are, upon equal or nearly equal profits, naturally preferred to foreign commerce, for the same reason that agriculture is naturally preferred to manufactures. As the capital of the landlord or farmer is more secure than that of the manufacturer, so the capital of the manufacturer, being at all times more within his view and command, is more secure than that of the foreign merchant. In every period, indeed, of every society, the surplus part both of the rude and manufactured produce, or that for which there is no demand at home, must be sent abroad, in order to be exchanged for something for which there is some demand at home. But whether the capital which carries this surplus produce abroad be a foreign or domestic one, is of little importance." It is thus, in his estimation, of small importance whether the capital engaged in the work of transportation be foreign or domestic--the operations most essential to the comfort and improvement of man being, first, the production, and next, the conversion of the products of the land, by men occupying towns and cities placed among the producers. The nearer the market the less must be, as he clearly saw, the loss of transportation, and the greater the value of the land. If the number or the capital of those markets were insufficient for the conversion of all the rude produce of the earth, there would then be "considerable advantage" to be derived from the export of the surplus by the aid of foreign capital, thus leaving "the whole stock of the society" to be employed at home "to more useful purpose." These views are certainly widely different from those of modern economists, who see in tables of imports and exports the only criterion of the condition of society. Commerce, by which is meant exchanges with distant people, is regarded as the sole measure of the prosperity of a nation; and yet every man is rejoiced when the market for his products is brought home to him, and he is thereby enabled to economize transportation and enrich his land by returning to it the elements of which-those products had been composed. "According to the natural course of things," says Dr. Smith, "the greater part of the capital of every growing society is, first, directed to agriculture, afterward to manufactures, and, last of all, to foreign commerce." This, says he, is in accordance with natural laws. As subsistence precedes luxuries, so must the production, of commodities precede their conversion or their exchange. "Necessity imposes," he continues, "that order of things" which "is in every country promoted by the natural inclinations of man. If human institutions had never thwarted those natural inclinations, the towns could nowhere have increased beyond what the improvement and cultivation of the territory in which they were situated could support; till such time, at least, as the whole of that territory was completely cultivated and improved. Upon equal, or nearly equal profits, most men will choose to employ their capitals rather in the improvement and cultivation of land, than either in manufactures or in foreign trade. The man who employs his capital in land, has it more under his view and command; and his fortune is much less liable to accidents than that of the trader, who is obliged frequently to commit it, not only to the winds and the waves, but to the more uncertain elements of human folly and injustice, by giving great credits, in distant countries, to men with whose character and situation he can seldom be thoroughly acquainted. The capital of the landlord, on the contrary, which is fixed in the improvement of his land, seems to be as well secured as the nature of human affairs can admit of. The beauty of the country, besides the pleasures of a country life, the tranquillity of mind which it promises, and, wherever the injustice of human laws does not disturb it, the independency which it really affords, have charms that, more or less, attract everybody; and as to cultivate the ground was the original destination of man, so, in every stage of his existence, he seems to retain a predilection for this primitive employment. "Without the assistance of some artificers, indeed, the cultivation of land cannot be carried on, but with great inconveniency and continual interruption. Smiths, carpenters, wheelwrights and ploughwrights, masons and bricklayers, tanners, shoemakers, and tailors, are people whose service the farmer has frequent occasion for. Such artificers, too, stand occasionally in need of the assistance of one another; and as their residence is not, like that of the farmer, necessarily tied down to a precise spot, they naturally settle in the neighbourhood of one another, and thus form a small town or village. The butcher, the brewer, and the baker soon join them, together with many other artificers and retailers, necessary or useful for supplying their occasional wants, and who contribute still further to augment the town. The inhabitants of the town and those of the country are mutually the servants of one another. The town is a continual fair or market, to which the inhabitants of the country resort, in order to exchange their rude for manufactured produce. It is this commerce which supplies the inhabitants of the town, both with the materials of their work and the means of their subsistence. The quantity of the finished work which they sell to the inhabitants of the country, necessarily regulates the quantity of the materials and provisions which they buy. Neither their employment nor subsistence, therefore, can augment, but in proportion to the augmentation of the demand from the country for finished work; and this demand can augment only in proportion to the extension of improvement and cultivation. Had human institutions, therefore, never disturbed the natural course of things, the progressive wealth and increase of the towns would, in every political society, be consequential, and in proportion to the improvement and cultivation of the territory or country." The demand on the artisan "can augment only in proportion to the extension of improvement and cultivation." Nothing can be more true. The interests of the farmer and the mechanic are in perfect harmony with each other. The one needs a market for his products, and the nearer the market the greater must be the produce of his land, because of his increased power to carry back to it the manure. The other needs a market for his labour, and the richer the land around him the greater will be the quantity of products to be offered in exchange for labour, and the greater his freedom to determine for himself for whom he will work and what shall be his wages. The combination of effort between the labourer in the workshop and the labourer on the farm thus gives value to land, and the more rapid the growth of the value of land the greater has everywhere been the tendency to the freedom of man. These views were opposed to those then universally prevalent. "England's treasure in foreign trade" had become "A fundamental maxim in the political economy, not of England only, but of all other commercial countries. The inland or home trade, the most important of all, the trade in which an equal capital affords the greatest revenue, and creates the greatest employment to the people of the country, was considered as subsidiary only to foreign trade. It neither brought money into the country, it was said, nor carried any out of it. The country, therefore, could never become richer or poorer by means of it, except as far as its prosperity or decay might indirectly influence the state of foreign trade." It was against this error chiefly that Dr. Smith cautioned his countrymen. He showed that it had led, and was leading, to measures tending to disturb the natural course of things in all the countries connected with England, and to produce among them a necessity, for trade while diminishing the power to maintain trade. "Whatever tends," says he, "to diminish in any country the number of artificers and manufacturers, tends to diminish the home market, the most important of all markets, for the rude produce of the land, and thereby still further to discourage agriculture," and consequently to diminish the power of producing things with which to trade. He nowhere refers to the fact that any system which looks to compelling a nation to export raw produce, tends necessarily to the impoverishment of the land and its owner, and to the diminution, of the freedom of the labourer, and yet that such was the case could scarcely have escaped his observation. The tendency of the then existing English policy was, as he showed, to produce in various countries a necessity for exporting every thing in its rudest form, thus increasing the cost of transportation, while impoverishing the land and exhausting the people. The legislature had been, he said, "prevailed upon" to prevent the establishment of manufactures in the colonies, "sometimes by high duties, and sometimes by absolute prohibitions." In Grenada, while a colony of France, every plantation had its own refinery of sugar, but on its cession to England they were all abandoned, and thus was the number of artisans diminished, to "the discouragement of agriculture." The course of proceeding relative to these colonies is thus described:-- "While Great Britain encourages in America the manufacturing of pig and bar iron, by exempting them from duties to which the like commodities are subject when imported from any other country, she imposes an absolute prohibition upon the erection of steel furnaces and slit-mills in any of her American plantations: She will not suffer her colonies to work in those more refined manufactures, even for their own consumption; but insists upon their purchasing of her merchants and manufactures all goods of this kind which they have occasion for. "She prohibits the exportation from one province to another by water, and even the carriage by land upon horseback, or in a cart, of hats, of wools, and woollen goods, of the produce of America; a regulation which effectually prevents the establishment of any manufacture of such commodities for distant sale, and confines the industry of her colonists in this way to such coarse and household manufactures as a private family commonly makes for its own use, or for that of some of its neighbours in the same province." His views, in regard to such measures, are thus given:-- "To prohibit a great people from making all they can of every part of their own produce, or from employing their stock and industry in a way that they judge most advantageous to themselves, is a manifest violation of the most sacred rights of mankind." Further to carry out this view of compelling the people of the colonies to abstain from manufacturing for themselves, and to carry their products to distant markets, to the exhaustion of the land and to the diminution of the value of labour, bounties were paid on the importation into England of various articles of raw produce, while the export of various raw materials, of artisans, and of machinery, was prohibited. The whole object of the system was, he said, to "raise up colonies of customers, a project," he added, "fit only for a nation of shopkeepers." Indeed, he thought it "unfit even for a nation of shopkeepers," although "extremely fit for a nation whose government was influenced by shopkeepers." He was therefore entirely opposed to all such arrangements as the Methuen treaty, by which, in consideration of obtaining the control of the market of Portugal for the sale of her manufactures, Great Britain agreed to give to the wines of that country great advantage over those of France. Against all the errors of the system, Dr. Smith, however, raised in vain his warning voice. "England's treasure" was, it was thought, to be found "in foreign trade," and every measure adopted by the government had in view the extension of that trade. With each new improvement of machinery there was a new law prohibiting its export. The laws against the export of artisans were enforced, and a further one prohibited the emigration of colliers. The reader will readily see that a law prohibiting the export of cotton or woollen machinery was precisely equivalent to a law to compel all the producers of wool or cotton to seek the distant market of England if they desired to convert their products into cloth. The inventors of machinery, and the artisans who desired to work it, were thus deprived of freedom of action, in order that foreigners might be made the slaves of those who controlled the spinning-jenny, the loom, and the steam-engine, in whose hands it was desired to centralize the control of the farmers and planters of the world. England was to be made "the workshop of the world," although her people had been warned that the system was not only unnatural, but in the highest degree unjust, and even more impolitic than unjust, because while tending to expel capital and labour from the great and profitable home market, it tended greatly to the "discouragement of agriculture" in the colonies and nations subjected to the system, and to prevent the natural increase of the smaller and less profitable distant market upon which she was becoming more and more dependent. By degrees the tendency of the system became obvious. Bounties on the import of wood, and wool, and flax, and other raw materials, tended to "the discouragement of agriculture" at home, and bounties on the export of manufactures tended to drive into the work of converting, and exchanging the products of other lands the labour and capital that would otherwise have been applied to the work of production at home. The necessary consequence of this was, that the difficulty of obtaining these raw materials, instead of diminishing with the progress of population, tended to increase, and then it was, at the distance of a quarter of a century from the date of the publication of "_The Wealth of Nations_," that the foundation of the new school was laid by Mr. Malthus, who taught that all the distress existing in the world was the inevitable consequence of a great law of nature, which provided that food should increase only in arithmetical progression, while population might increase in geometrical progression. Next came Mr. Ricardo, who furnished a law of the occupation of the earth, showing, and conclusively, as he supposed, that the work of cultivation was always commenced on the rich soils, yielding a large return to labour, and that as population increased, men were compelled to resort to others, each in succession less fertile than its predecessor--the consequence of which was that labour became daily less productive, the power to obtain food diminished, and the power to demand rent increased, the poor becoming daily poorer, weaker, and more enslaved, as the rich became richer and more powerful. Next came the elder Mill, who showed that, in obedience to the law thus propounded by Mr. Ricardo, the return to capital and labour applied to the work of cultivation must be "continually decreasing," and the annual fund from which sayings are made, continually diminishing. "The difficulty of making savings is thus," he adds, "continually augmented, and at last they must totally cease." He regarded it therefore as certain that "wages would be reduced so low that a portion of the population would regularly die from the consequences of want." In such a state of things, men sell themselves, their wives, or their children, for mere food. We see, thus, that the modern British theory looks directly to the enslavement of man. In this manner, step by step, did the British political economists pass from the school of Adam Smith, in which it was taught that agriculture preceded manufactures and commerce, the latter of which were useful to the extent that they aided the former,--to that new one in which was, and is, taught, that manufactures and commerce were the great and profitable pursuits of man, and that agriculture, because of the "constantly increasing sterility of the soil," was the least profitable of all. Hence it is that we see England to have been steadily passing on in the same direction, and devoting all her energies to the prevention of the establishment, in any country of the world, of markets in which the raw produce of the land could be exchanged directly with the artisan for the products of his labour. For a time this prospered, but at length the eyes of the world were opened to the fact that they and their land were being impoverished as she was being enriched; and that the effect of the system was that of constituting herself _sole buyer_ of the raw products of their labour and their land, and _sole seller_ of the manufactured commodities to be given in exchange for them, with power to fix the prices of both; and thus that she was really acting in the capacity of mistress of the world, with power to impose taxes at discretion. By degrees, machinery and artisans were smuggled abroad, and new machinery was made, and other nations turned their attention more and more to manufacturing; and now it became necessary to make new exertions for the purpose of securing to England the monopoly she had so long enjoyed. To enable her to do this we find her at length throwing open her ports for the free admission of corn and numerous other of the raw products of the earth, free from the payment of any duty whatever, and thus offering to the various nations of the world a bounty on the further exhaustion of their land. The adoption of this measure would, it was supposed, induce Prussia, Austria, Russia, and Denmark, and all America, to devote themselves exclusively to the cultivation of the earth, abandoning all attempts at the creation of nearer places of exchange; and thus that all the world outside of England would become producers of raw materials to be carried to that single and distant market, there to be consumed or converted, and the refuse thereof to be deposited on the land of England. That such was the object of this measure was admitted by all. It was announced as a boon to the agriculturists of the world. How far it was calculated to be so, the reader may judge, after satisfying himself of the truth of the following propositions:-- I. That if there is to be but one place of exchange or manufacture for the world, all the rest of the people of the world must limit themselves to agriculture. II. That this necessarily implies the absence of towns, or local places of exchange, and a necessity for resorting to a place of exchange far distant. III. That the distance of the place of consumption from the place of production forbids the possibility of returning to the land any of the manure yielded by its products. IV. That this in turn implies the exhaustion of the land and the impoverishment of its owner. V. That the impoverishment of the land renders necessary a removal to new and more distant lands. VI. That this renders necessary a larger amount of transportation, while the impoverishment of the farmer increases the difficulty of making roads. VII. That the increased distance of the market produces a steadily increased necessity for limiting the work of cultivation to the production of those commodities which can be obtained from high and dry lands, and that the quantity of products tends therefore to diminish with the increased distance from market. VIII. That with each step in the progress of exhausting the land, men are compelled to separate more widely from each other, and that there is therefore a steady diminution in the power of association for the making of roads, or the establishment of schools, and that the small towns, or near places of exchange, tend gradually toward depopulation and ruin. IX. That the more men separate from each other the less is the power to procure machinery, and the greater the necessity for cultivating the poorest soils, even though surrounded by lead, iron, and copper ore, coal, lime, and all other of the elements of which machinery is composed. X. That with the diminished power of association, children grow up uneducated, and men and women become rude and barbarous. XI. That the power to apply labour productively tends steadily to diminish, and that women, in default of other employment, are forced to resort to the field, and to become slaves to their fathers, husbands, and brothers. XII. That the power to accumulate capital tends likewise to diminish--that land becomes from day to day more consolidated--and that man sinks gradually into the condition of a slave to the landed or other capitalist. XIII. That with this steady passage of man from the state of a freeman to that of a slave, he has steadily less to sell, and can therefore purchase less; and that thus the only effect of a policy which compels the impoverishment of the land and its owner is to destroy the customer, who, under a different system of policy, might have become a larger purchaser from year to year. That the object of the present English policy is that of converting all the nations of the world into purely agricultural communities will not be denied; but as it may be doubted if the effects would be such as are here described, it is proposed now to inquire into the movement of some of the non-manufacturing communities of the world, with a view to determine if the facts observed are in correspondence with those that, reasoning _a priori_, we should be led to expect. Before entering upon this examination, the reader is, however, requested to peruse the following extracts from "Gee on Trade," in which is described the former colonial system, and afterward the extract from a recent despatch of Lord Grey, late Colonial Secretary, with a view to satisfy himself how perfectly identical are the objects now sought to be attained with those desired by the statesmen of the last century, and denounced by Adam Smith. JOSHUA GEE--1750. First--"Manufactures in American colonies should be discouraged, prohibited." "Great Britain with its dependencies is doubtless as well able to subsist within itself as any nation in Europe. We have an enterprising people, fit for all the arts of peace or war. We have provisions in abundance, and those of the best sort, and we are able to raise sufficient for double the number of inhabitants. We have the very best materials for clothing, and want nothing either for use or for luxury, but what we have at home, or might have from our colonies; so that we might make such an intercourse of trade among ourselves, or between us and them, as would maintain a vast navigation. But, we ought always to keep a watchful eye over our colonies, _to restrain them from setting up any of the manufactures which are carried on in Great Britain_; and any such attempts should be crushed in the beginning, for if they are suffered to grow up to maturity it will be difficult to suppress them." "Our colonies are much in the same state as Ireland was in when they began the woollen manufactory, _and as their numbers increase, will fall upon manufactures for clothing themselves, if due care be not taken to find employment_ for them in raising such productions as may enable them to furnish themselves with all the necessaries from us." "I should, therefore, think it worthy the care of the government to endeavour by all possible means to encourage them in the raising of silk, hemp, flax, iron, (_only pig, to be hammered in England_,) potash, &c., by giving them competent bounties in the beginning, and sending over skilful and judicious persons, at the public charge, to assist and instruct them in the most proper methods of management, which in my apprehension would lay a foundation for establishing the most profitable trade of any we have. And considering the commanding situation of our colonies along the seacoast, the great convenience of navigable rivers in all of them, the cheapness of land, and the easiness of raising provisions, great numbers of people would transport themselves thither to settle upon such improvements. Now, as people have been filled with fears that the colonies, if encouraged to raise rough materials, would set up for themselves, a little regulation would be necessary; and as they will have the providing rough materials for themselves, a _little regulation_ would remove all those jealousies out of the way. They have never thrown or wove any silk, as yet, that we have heard of,--therefore, if a law was made prohibiting the use of any throwing mill, of doubling or throstling silk, with any machine whatever, they would then send it _to us raw_. And as they will have the providing rough materials to themselves, so shall we have the manufacturing of them. If encouragement be given for raising hemp, flax, &c., doubtless they will soon begin to manufacture, if not prevented. Therefore, to stop the progress of any such manufacture, it is proposed that no _weaver_ have _liberty_ to set up any looms, without first registering at an office kept for that purpose, and the name and place of abode of any journeyman that shall work for him. But if any _particular inhabitant_ shall be inclined to have any linen or woollen made of their own spinning, they should not be abridged of the same liberty that they now make use of, namely to have a weaver who shall be _licensed_ by the Governor, and have it wrought up for the use of the family, but not to be sold to any person in a private manner, nor exposed to any market or fair, upon pain of forfeiture." "That all slitting mills and engines for drawing wire, or weaving stockings, _be put down_." "That all negroes shall be prohibited from weaving either linen or woollen, or spinning or combing of wool, or working at any manufacture of iron, further than making it into pig or bar-iron. That they also be prohibited from manufacturing _hats, stockings, or leather of any kind_. This limitation will not abridge the planters of any liberty they now enjoy--on the contrary, it will then turn their industry to promoting and raising those rough materials." Second--"The advantages to Great Britain from keeping the colonies dependent on her for their essential supplies." "If we examine into the circumstances of the inhabitants of our plantations, and our own, it will appear that _not one-fourth part of their product redounds to their own profit, for out of all that comes here, they only carry back clothing and other accommodations for their families_, all of which is of the merchandise and manufacture of this kingdom." "All these advantages we receive by the plantations, _besides the mortgages on the planters' estates and the high interest they pay us, which is very considerable_, and, therefore, very great care ought to be taken, in regulating all the affairs of the colonists, that the planters are not put under too many difficulties, but encouraged to go on cheerfully." "New England and the northern colonies have not commodities and products enough to send us in return for purchasing their necessary clothing, but are under very great difficulties; and, therefore, any ordinary sort sell with them,--and when they have _grown out of fashion with us, they are new-fashioned enough for them_." LORD GREY--1850. "If, as has been alleged by the complainants, and as in some instances would appear to be the case, any of the duties comprised in the tariff have been imposed, not for the purpose of revenue, but with a view of protecting the interest of the Canadian manufacturer, her Majesty's government are clearly of opinion that such a course is injurious alike to the interests of the mother country and to those of the colony. Canada possesses natural advantages for the production of articles which will always exchange in the markets of this country for those manufactured goods of which she stands in need. By such exchange she will obtain these goods much more cheaply than she could manufacture, them for herself, and she will secure an advantageous market for the _raw produce_ which she is best able to raise. On the other hand, by closing her markets against British manufactures, or _rendering their introduction more costly_, she enhances their price to the consumer, and by the imposition of protective duties, for the purpose of fostering an unnatural trade, she gives a wrong direction to capital, by withdrawing it from more profitable employment, and causing it to be invested in the manufacture of articles which might be imported at a cost below that of production in the colony, while at the same time she inflicts a blow on her export trade by rendering her markets less eligible to the British customer." "If the merchant finds that by exporting his goods to Canada, they produce him in return a _large quantity of corn_, and thus yield a greater profit than they would if exported to any other country, he will of course give the preference to Canada. But if by reason of increased import duties, those goods produce a diminished return the result will be either that the Canadian farmer must submit to a proportionate reduction in the price of his produce, or the British manufacturer must resort to another market. It is, therefore, obvious, that it is not less the interest of Canada herself than of Great Britain, that this tariff of import duties should undergo a careful revision." The phraseology of the two is different, but the object is the same--that of rendering it necessary to send all the raw products of the land to a market far distant, and thus depriving the farmer or planter of the power to return any portion of the loan made to him by the earth, and which she is always willing to renew, on the simple condition that when the borrower has used it, he shall return to the lender the elements of which it had been composed. CHAPTER IX. HOW SLAVERY GREW, AND HOW IT IS NOW MAINTAINED, IN THE WEST INDIES. The system described in the last chapter was fully carried out in the West India colonies. Manufactures were so entirely interdicted from the date of their coming under the crown of Great Britain, that the colonists were not permitted even to refine their own sugar, and still less to convert their cotton into cloth. The necessary consequence was that women and children could have no employment but that of the field. This, of course, tended to sink both mother and child far lower in the scale of civilization than would have been the case had the lighter labour of conversion been associated with the more severe one of production. The next effect was, that as all were bound to remain producers of raw commodities, there could be no markets at hand, and no exchanges could be made except at a distance of thousands of miles. Difficulties, too, arose in regard to the diversification of labour, even in agriculture itself. Indigo was tried, but of the price for which it sold in England so large a portion was absorbed by ship-owners, commission merchants, and the government, that its culture was abandoned. Coffee, was extensively introduced, and as it grows on higher and more salubrious lands its cultivation would have been of great advantage to the community; but here, as in the case of indigo, so small a portion of the price for which it sold was received by the producer that its production was about being abandoned, and was saved only by the government agreeing to reduce its claim to a shilling, or twenty-four cents, a pound. This amounted to about a hundred and eighty dollars per acre, the estimated produce being about 750 pounds of merchantable coffee;[26] and very much of it came out of the producer--the poor negro. How enormously burdensome such a tax must have been may be judged by the farmers who feel now so heavily the pressure of the malt duties; and it must always be borne in mind that the West India labourers were aided by the most indifferent machinery of production. By degrees these various taxes rendered necessary the abandonment of all cultivation but that of the sugar-cane, being of all others the most destructive of health, and as the whole population, men, women, and children, were limited to that single pursuit, we shall scarcely err in attributing to this fact the great waste of life recorded in a former chapter. Commerce, too, was interdicted, except with Great Britain and her colonies; and this led to efforts at a smuggling trade with the Spanish possessions on the continent; but this was brought to a close by the watchfulness of the ships of war.[27] Slaves, however, might be imported and exported, and this traffic was carried on a most extensive scale, most of the demand for the Spanish colonies being supplied from the British Islands. In 1775, however, the colonial legislature, desirous to prevent the excessive importation of negroes, imposed a duty of £2 per head, but this was petitioned against by the merchants of England, and the home government directed the discontinuance of the tax.[28] At this period the annual export of sugar is stated,[29] to have been 980,346 cwt., the gross sales of which, duty free, averaged £1 14s. 8d. per cwt., making a total of £1,699,421,--so large a portion of which, however, was absorbed by freight, commissions, insurance, &e., that the net proceeds, of 775 sugar estates are stated to have been only £726,992, or less than £1000 each. If to the £973,000 thus deducted be added the share of the government, (12s. 3d. per cwt.,) and the further charges before the sugar reached the consumer, it will be seen that its grower could not have received more than one-fourth of the price at which it sold. The planter thus appears to have been little more than a superintendent of slaves, who were worked for the benefit of the merchants and the government of Great Britain, by whom was absorbed the lion's share of the produce of their labour. He was placed between the slave, whom he was obliged to support, on the one hand, and the mortgagee, the merchants, and the government, whom he was also obliged to support, on the other, and he could take for himself only what was left--and if the crop proved large, and prices fell, he was ruined. The consequences of this are seen in the fact that in twenty years following this period, there were sold for debt no less than 177 estates, while 92 remained unsold in the hands of creditors, and 55 were wholly abandoned. Seeing these things, it will not be difficult to understand the cause of the extraordinary waste of life exhibited in the British Islands. The planter could exist, himself, only by overworking his people; and notwithstanding all his efforts, no less than 324 out of 775 estates changed hands by reason of failure in the short space of twenty years. Whatever might be his disposition to improve the condition of the labourer, to do so was quite impossible while receiving for himself and them so small a portion of the price of his commodity. In the early years of the present century, land had become more valuable. The price of sugar had risen about 80 per cent., and the planters were gradually extricating themselves from their difficulties; and a consequence of this was seen in a considerable amelioration of the condition of the slave, who was now much better fed, clothed, and otherwise provided for.[30] Slaves that had been as low as £34, average price, had risen to £50, at which the 250,000 in the island amounted to £12,500,000, and the real and personal property, exclusive of the slaves, was estimated at £25,000,000.[31] How great, however, were the difficulties under which the planters still laboured, may be seen from the following extract, which, long as it is, is given because it illustrates so forcibly the destructive effects of the policy that looks to the prevention of that association which results from bringing the loom and the anvil to the side of plough and the harrow. "I have now to enter upon a painful part of my task, a part in which I am under the necessity of stating such circumstances as cannot but reflect disgrace on those who give rise to them, and from which the weakness, I will not use a harsher term, of the legislature, is but too apparent. These circumstances arise from the various modes of agency, such as that of the attorney of estates, mortgagee in possession, receiver in chancery, &c. The first of these characters requires a definition. By the word attorney, in this sense, is meant agent; and the duties annexed to his office are so similar to those of a steward in England, that were it not for the dissimilarity of executing them, and the dignity attendant upon the former, I should pronounce them one and the same, But _as this colonial stewardship is the surest road to imperial fortune_, men of property and distinguished situation push eagerly for it. Attorneys are of two sorts; six per cent. attorneys, and salaried attorneys; the profits of the former arise from commissions of six per cent. on all the produce of an estate, and various interior resources; the latter are paid a certain stipend by some unincumbered proprietors, who have lately discovered that a steward in Jamaica may be hired like a steward in England, by which several thousand pounds a year are saved, and instead of enriching their agents, are poured into their own coffers. The office of both is to attend to the estates of their employers, and to all their interests in the island, deputed to them that the proprietors themselves may live at home, that is to say, in Europe. "Of all the evils in the island of Jamaica, which call for a remedy, and by means of which the most unjustifiable practices are continued, the first and most crying is that of the business of a certain description of attorneys of orphans, mortgagees in possession, trustees, executors, guardians, and receivers under the court of chancery; and these evils arise in a great measure from the unjust and impolitic law which allows six per cent. commission on the gross produce of the estates under their charge and direction. The iniquitous practices, screened, if not authorized by that law have long been too glaring to be unnoticed; and attempts have been made to reduce the commission, and to fix it on some more equitable principle; but unfortunately there have always been in the House of Assembly too many of its members interested in benefits resulting from the present law to admit the adoption of the measure. That the interest of attorneys is not always the interest of those whose estates they hold is an undeniable fact, of which I think you will be convinced by the time you arrive at the conclusion of this letter. In many instances, too, this superior collateral interest militates against the happiness and amelioration of the state and condition of the slaves, which is now professed by the colonists to be an object of their most serious attention; and it proves not unfrequently the total ruin of the unfortunate planter, whose involved situation compels him to submit to the condition of consigning his estate to the management of an attorney appointed by his creditor, who is generally his merchant, and who throws the full legal advantages of his debtor's estate into the hands of his own agent in the island, to compensate for the economical bargain he makes for the management of his own concerns; a practice common also to trustees, guardians, &c. The law allowing such enormous commissions for services so inadequate, is also very defective in an important point; for it establishes no data for fixing the charge of this commission, which is never made according to the sales of sugar, for that is not soon, if ever known to the attorney. Hence, in the different accounts, the charges are estimated on sugar at several prices, from 20s. per cwt. to 45s., and even 50s.; and in the same books of one and the same attorney, these charges are found to differ according to his connection with his employer, generally increasing in proportion to the distress of the property and of the proprietor. To form some notion of the advantages attending these appointments, and of their injurious tendency to involved proprietors, and even to their creditors, let us see what a receiver under the court of chancery can do. In the first place, it has not always been the practice to select him from among the inhabitants in the vicinity of the unfortunate estates, or from among the friends of the proprietor; he is frequently a resident in one of the towns, _with perhaps as little knowledge of the management of an estate as is possessed by the sweeper of the chancery office_; and indeed it would not be inapplicable to distinguish such receivers by the appellation of chancery-sweepers. These gentlemen seldom if ever see the estates which they are to direct, and have no other directions to give than, in a lumping way, to make as much sugar as possible, and to ship it, most likely to their own correspondents. _Whatever the estates clear is so much in their hands, and of course the more money the better for them_; money takes root in every soil, and propagates itself a thousand ways; not a dollar of it therefore finds its way into the chancery chest, for the receiver having given security, the treasure is, by a common fiction in use, held to be fully as safe in his hands. While the different creditors of the estate are fighting the battle of priority, the receiver continues to direct the management of it, to ship the crop, and to take care of the money. At length a prior debt is established, and the creditor having gained the point, remains for a time satisfied; but finding, though his principal accumulates, that he receives nothing, he becomes clamorous for a sale. This may take place in five or six years time, when all pretexts for delay are worn out, and in the mean time the receiver takes care to have money, adequate to the simple sums received, turned over by his consignee or merchant to another hand, his banker's, to be ready to answer bills to be drawn _on his own account_, for which he must have a premium of from twelve to seventeen and a half per cent. The estate at last is advertised for sale by a master in chancery, in consequence of an order from the chancellor. The sale, however, is spun out, a year or two longer, till the creditor or his attorney begins to remonstrate with the master: stipulations for an amicable settlement ensue, that is, for an admission of the receiver's accounts such as they may be, and for time allowed him for payment of the mesne profits or balance in his hands; which agreed to, the sale is positively to take place _when the next crop is over_. The sale then is actually concluded, the accumulations of these annual funds go unperceived to the further propagation of wealth for the receiver; and the purchaser, who is no other than the prior creditor, is put in possession of _an estate in ruin, with a gang of negroes dispirited and miserable, who had been long sensible of their situation, conceiving themselves belonging to nobody_, and almost despairing of ever falling into the hands of a kind master, interested in their welfare and happiness. Let us now turn to the attorney of a mortgagee in possession, and see what better he offers. The debt of the involved estate is due to a man of large property, or to a merchant; if to the former, he has a merchant to whom the consignment is of considerable value. It is immaterial what the debt is, an estate in possession of a mortgagee is generally made to pay full commissions to the attorney employed for it. In justice to all parties the most is to be made of the property, and it is soon found that the negroes upon it are not equal to the returns it is capable of making, consequently hired negroes are added to the plantation-gangs, to plant, weed, and take off the crop; the works are extended, to be adequate to the proposed increase; more stock, more carts are bought, more white people employed. To keep pace with these grand designs, _the poor plantation negroes are of course overworked_. What is the result? A great deal of sugar and rum is made, to the credit as well as profit of the attorney, and by which the merchant is benefited, as the consignments are augmented; but six per cent. interest on the principal, six per cent. on that interest by compound arithmetic become principal, six per cent. commissions, with the contingent charges for labour, improvements, stores, etc., absorb the whole produce, and the planter daily sinks under an accumulating debt, till he is completely ruined. _The greater the distress, the more the attorney fattens_; in a war, for instance, a considerable additional benefit occurs; he becomes lumber-merchant, and having the rum of the estate at his command, and perhaps a little sugar, though in the latter article he is usually restricted, as the disposal of it in the island would interfere with the loading of ships and consignments, he purchases wholesale cargoes, and retails them out to the estate at a large profit. Staves bought by the attorney at £18 per thousand, have been known to be sold to the estate for £45 per thousand; and the cart belonging to the property has carried the rum to pay for them. _It is well known that the rum made upon an estate will seldom pay its contingent expenses, and that frequently bills are drawn on Great Britain to the amount of one thousand pounds, and sometimes two thousand pounds, for the excess of the contingencies over and above the amount of the sale of the rum_: here the attorney finds another avenue of amassing for himself. Settling the excess from his own means, he appropriates the bills which it enabled him to draw to the purchase of the remainder of a cargo of negroes, after the best have been culled at the rate of from ninety to ninety-five pounds per head: these inferior negroes he disposes of to his dependent overseers, jobbers, doctors, tradesmen, distillers, and book-keepers, at forty or fifty pounds a head profit; nor is it without example, that the very estates on the credit of which some of the bills are drawn, have been supplied with negroes in the same manner, and at the same rate. This manoeuvre indeed is ventured only on estates of minors, whose trustees are merchants in Great Britain, ignorant of such practices; or may be, when they have committed the estates to the attorney, liable to the full advantages to be made of them, to compensate for the moderate allowance they give for the management of their own concerns. An island merchant, or according to the West India appellation, storekeeper, in great business, told a friend of mine, that he had sold a cargo of mules at eighteen pounds per head to an attorney, which were dispersed in separate spells of eight each to several estates, but that at the special instance of the purchaser, he had made out the bills of parcels at thirty pounds per head. This does not speak much in favour of the virtue of the storekeeper, but it must be observed that he would have lost his customer had he demurred, and would probably have been considered as righteous overmuch. There is a variety of smaller advantages enjoyed by the attorney, such as forming connections with butchers who may purchase the fatted cattle, with jobbers of negroes for the purpose of intermingling negroes at a proportionable profit, fattening horses, and a long _et cetera_. To the attorney the commanders of the ships in the trade look up with due respect, and as they are proper persons to speak of him to the merchant, their good-will is not neglected. To the involved planter their language often is, 'Sir, I must have your sugars down at the wharf directly;' that is, your sugars are to make the lowest tier, to stand the chance of being washed out should the ship leak or make much water in a bad passage. When they address an attorney, they do not ask for sugars, but his favours, as to quantity and time; and his hogsheads form the upper tier."[32] An examination made about this period proved that these persons, 193 in number, held in charge 606 sugar-works, producing about 80,000 hhds. of sugar, and 36,000 puncheons of rum, which at the selling prices of that day in England yielded about £4,000,000, upon which they were entitled to six per cent., or £240,000. We have here a most extensive system of absenteeism, and absentees _must_ be represented by middlemen, having no interest in the slave or in the plantation, except to take from both all that can be taken, giving as little as possible back to either. Why, however, did this absenteeism exist? Why did not the owners of property reside on their estates? Because the policy which looked to limiting the whole population, male and female, old and young, to the culture of sugar, and forbade even that the sugar itself should be refined on the island, effectually prevented the growth of any middle class that should form the population of towns at which the planter might find society that could induce him to regard the island as his home. Such was not the case in the French Islands, because the French government had not desired to prevent the weaker class of the population from engaging in the work of manufacture, as has been seen in the case of Grenada, in which sugar was refined until the period of its surrender to the British arms.[33] Towns therefore grew up, and men of all descriptions came from France to make the islands _their home_; whereas the English colonists looked only to realizing a fortune and returning home to spend it. All this is fully shown in the following extract, in which is given a comparative view of the British and French Islands immediately before the emancipation act of 1832. "The houses have more of a European air than in our English colonies, and I must notice with praise the existence of four booksellers' shops, as large and well furnished as any second-rate ones in Paris. The sight of books to sell in the West Indies is like water in the desert, for books are not yet included in plantation stores for our islands. The cause is this. The French colonists, whether Creoles or Europeans, consider the West Indies as their country; they cast no wistful looks toward France; they have not even a packet of their own; they marry, educate, and build in and for the West Indies and the West Indies alone. In our colonies it is quite different; except a few regular Creoles to whom gratis rum and gratis coloured mothers for their children have become quite indispensable, every one regards the colony as a temporary lodging-place, where they must sojourn in sugar and molasses till their mortgage's will let them live elsewhere. They call England their home, though many of them have never been there; they talk of writing home and going home, and pique themselves more on knowing the probable result of a contested election in England than on mending their roads, establishing a police, or purifying a prison. The French colonist deliberately expatriates himself; the Englishman never. If our colonies were to throw themselves into the hands of the North Americans, as their enemies say that some of them wish to do, the planters would make their little triennial trips to New York as they now do to London. The consequence of this feeling is that every one, who can do so, maintains some correspondence with England, and when any article is wanted, he sends to England for it. Hence, except in the case of chemical drugs, there is an inconsiderable market for an imported store of miscellaneous goods, much less for an assortment of articles of the same kind. A different feeling in Martinique produces an opposite effect; in that island very little individual correspondence exists with France, and consequently there is that effectual demand for books, wines, jewelry, haberdashery, &c., in the colony itself, which enables labour to be divided almost as far as in the mother country. In St. Pierre there are many shops which contain nothing but bonnets, ribbons, and silks, others nothing but trinkets and toys, others hats only, and so on, and there are rich tradesmen in St. Pierre on this account. Bridge Town would rapidly become a wealthy place, if another system were adopted; for not only would the public convenience be much promoted by a steady, safe, and abundant importation, and separate preservation of each article in common request, but the demand for those articles would be one hundred-fold greater in Bridge Town itself than it now is on the same account in London, Liverpool, or Bristol, when impeded or divided and frittered away by a system of parcel-sending across the Atlantic. Supply will, under particular circumstances, create demand. If a post were established at Barbadoes, or a steamboat started between the islands, a thousand letters would be written where there are one hundred now, and a hundred persons would interchange visits where ten hardly do at present. I want a book and cannot borrow it; I would purchase it instantly from my bookseller in my neighbourhood, but I may not think it worth my while to send for it over the ocean, when, with every risk, I must wait at the least three months for it. The moral consequences of this system are even more to be lamented than the economical, but I will say more about that at some other time."[34] In another part of the same work, the writer says-- "Schools for the children of the slaves are the first and chief step toward amelioration of condition and morals in every class of people in the West Indies." Here, however, the same difficulty had existed. For the same reason that no towns could arise there could be no schools, and the planter found himself forced to send his children to England to be educated; the consequence of which was that at his death his property passed into the hands of agents, and his successors having contracted a fondness for European and a dislike for colonial life, remained abroad, leaving their estates to go to ruin, while their people perished under the lash of men who had no other interest than to ship the largest quantity of sugar, molasses, and rum. All this was a natural result of the system that denied to the women and children the privilege of converting cotton into cloth, or of giving themselves to other in-door pursuits. The mechanic was not needed where machinery could not be used, and without him there could grow up neither towns nor schools. The reader will have remarked, in the first extract above given, that the export of rum generally brought the planter in debt, and yet the price paid for it by the consumers appears to have been nearly a million of pounds sterling--that is, the people of England gave of labour and its products that large sum in exchange for a certain product of the labouring people of Jamaica, not a shilling of which ever reached the planter to be applied to the amelioration of the condition of his estate, or of the people upon it. The crop sold on its arrival at 3s. or 3s. 6d. a gallon, but the consumer paid for it probably 17s., which were thus divided:-- Government, representing the British people at large... 11.3 Ship-owners, wholesale and retail dealers, &c.......... 5.9 Land-owner and labourer................................ 0.0 ---- 17.2 If we look to sugar, we find a result somewhat better, but of similar character. The English consumer gave for it 80s. worth of labour, and those shillings were nearly thus divided:-- Government............................................. 27 Ship-owner, merchant, mortgagee, &c.................... 33 Land-owner and labourer................................ 20 ---- 80 The reader will now see that Mr. _Joshua Gee_ was not exaggerating when he gave it as one of the recommendations of the colonial system that the colonists left in England three-fourths of all their products,[35] the difference being swallowed up by those who made or superintended the exchanges. Such was the result desired by those who compelled the planter to depend on a distant market in which to sell all he raised, and to buy all he and his people needed to consume. The more he took out of his land the more he exhausted it and the less he obtained for its products, for large crops made large freights, large charges for storage, and enormous collections by the government, while prices fell because of the size of the crop, and thus was he ruined while all others were being enriched. Under such circumstances he could not purchase machinery for the improvement of his cultivation, and thus was he deprived of the power to render available the services of the people whom he was bound to support. Master of slaves, he was himself a slave to those by whom the labours of himself and his workmen were directed, and it would be unfair to attribute to him the extraordinary waste of life resulting necessarily from the fact that the whole people were limited to the labours of the field. With inexhaustible supplies of timber, the island contained, even in 1850, not a single sawmill, although it afforded an extensive market for lumber from abroad. Yielding in the greatest abundance the finest fruits, there were yet no town's-people with their little vessels to carry them to the larger markets of this country, and for want of market they rotted under the trees. "The manufacturing resources of this island," says Mr. Bigelow, "are inexhaustible;" and so have they always been, but the people have been deprived of all power to profit by them, and for want of that power there was lost annually a greater amount of labour than would have paid, five times over, for the commodities for which they were compelled to look to the distant market. Of those who did not perish, because of the necessity for an universal dependence on field employments, a large portion of the labour was then, as it now must be, utterly wasted. "For six or eight months of the year, nothing," says Mr. Bigelow, (Notes, p. 54,) "is done on the sugar or coffee plantations." "Agriculture," he continues, "as at present conducted, does not occupy more than half their time." So was it fifty years ago, and it was because of the compulsory waste of labour and consequent small amount of productive power that there existed little opportunity for accumulating capital. Population diminished because there could be no improvement of the condition of the labourer who, while thus limited in the employment of his time, was compelled to support not only himself and his master, but the agent, the commission-merchant, the ship-owner, the mortgagee, the retail trader, and the government, and this under a system that looked to taking every thing from the land and returning nothing to it. Of the amount paid in 1831 by the British people for the products of the 320,000 black labourers of this island, the home government took no less than £3,736,113 10s. 6d.,[36] or about eighteen millions of dollars, being almost sixty dollars per head, and this for merely superintending the exchanges. Had no such claim been made on the product of the labour of those poor people, the consumer would have had his sugar cheaper, and this would have made a large consumption, and these eighteen millions would have been divided between the black labourer on the one hand and the white one on the other. It would be quite safe to assert that in that year each negro, old and young, male and female, contributed five pounds--$24--to the maintenance of the British government, and this was a heavy amount of taxation to be borne by a people limited entirely to agriculture and destitute of the machinery necessary for making even that productive. If now to this heavy burden be added the commissions, freights, insurance, interest, and other charges, it will readily be seen that a system of taxation so grinding could end no otherwise than in ruin; and that such was the tendency of things, was seen in the steady diminution of production. Sugar, Rum, Coffee, hhds. puncheons. lbs. ------ ---------- ------- In the three years ending with 1802, the average exports were, of 113,000 44,000 14,000,000 Whereas those of the three years ending with 1829 were only 92,000 34,000 17,000,000 The system which looked to depriving the cultivator of the advantage of a market near at hand, to which he could carry his products, and from which he could carry home the manure and thus maintain the powers of his land, was thus producing its natural results. It was causing the slave to became from day to day more enslaved; and that such was the case is shown by the excess of deaths over births, as given in a former chapter. Evidence of exhaustion was seen in every thing connected with the island. Labour and land were declining in value, and the security for the payment of the large debt due to mortgagees in England was becoming less from year to year, as more and more the people of other countries were being driven to the work of cultivation because of the impossibility of competing with England in manufactures. Sugar had declined to little more than a guinea a hundred-weight, and rum had fallen to little more than two shillings a gallon;[37] and nearly the whole of this must have been swallowed up in commissions and interest. Under such circumstances a great waste of life was inevitable; and therefore it is that we have seen importations of hundreds of thousands of black men, who have perished, leaving behind them no trace of their having ever existed. But on whom must rest the responsibility for a state of things so hideous as that here exhibited? Not, surely, upon the planter, for he exercised no volition whatsoever. He was not permitted to employ his surplus power in refining his own sugar. He could not legally introduce a spindle or a loom into the island. He could neither mine coal nor smelt iron ore. He could not in any manner repay his borrowings from the land, and, as a matter of course, the loans he could obtain diminished in quantity; and then, small as they were, the chief part of what his commodities exchanged for was swallowed up by the exchangers and those who superintend the exchanges, exercising the duties of government. He was a mere instrument in their hands for the destruction of negro morals, intellect, and life; and upon them, and not upon him, must rest the responsibility for the fact that, of all the slaves imported into the island, not more than two-fifths were represented on the day of emancipation. Nevertheless, he it was that was branded as the tyrant and the destroyer of morals and of life; and public opinion--the public opinion of the same people who had absorbed so large a portion of the product of negro labour--drove the government to the measure of releasing the slave from compulsory service, and appropriating a certain amount to the payment, first, of the mortgage debts due in England, and, second, of the owner, who, even if he found his land delivered to him free of incumbrance, was in most cases left without a shilling to enable him to carry on the work of his plantation. The slaves were set free, but there existed no capital to find them employment, and from the moment of emancipation it became almost impossible to borrow money on mortgage security. The consequences are seen in the extensive abandonment of land and the decline of its value. Any quantity of it may be purchased, prepared for cultivation, and as fine as any in the island, for five dollars an acre, while other land, far more productive than any in New England, may be had at from fifty cents to one dollar. With the decline in the value of land the labourer tends toward barbarism, and the reason of this may be found on a perusal of the following paragraph:-- "They have no new manufactories to resort to when they are in want of work; no unaccustomed departments of mechanical or agricultural labour are open to receive them, to stimulate their ingenuity and reward their industry. When they know how to ply the hoe, pick the coffee-berry, and tend the sugar-mills, they have learned almost all the industry of the island can teach them. If, in the sixteen years during which the negroes have enjoyed their freedom, they have made less progress in civilization than their philanthropic champions have promised or anticipated, let the want I have suggested receive some consideration. It may be that even a white peasantry would degenerate under such influences. Reverse this, and when the negro has cropped his sugar or his coffee, create a demand for his labour in the mills and manufactories of which nature has invited the establishment on this island, and before another sixteen years would elapse the world would probably have some new facts to assist them in estimating the natural capabilities of the negro race, of more efficiency in the hands of the philanthropist than all the appeals which he has ever been able to address to the hearts or the consciences of men." _Bigelow's Jamaica_, p. 156. The artisan has always been the ally of the agriculturist in his contest with the trader and the government, as is shown in the whole history of the world. The first desires to tax him by buying cheaply and selling dearly. The second desires to tax him for permitting him to make his exchanges, and the more distant the place of exchange, the greater the power of taxation. The artisan comes near to him, and enables him to have the raw materials combined on the spot, the producer of them exchanging directly with the consumer, paying no tax for the maintenance of ship-owners, commission merchants, or shopkeepers. In a piece of cloth, says Adam Smith, weighing eighty pounds, there are not only more than eighty pounds of wool, but also "several thousand weight of corn, the maintenance of the working people," and it is the wool and the corn that travel cheaply in the form of cloth. What, however, finally becomes of the corn? Although eaten, it is not destroyed. It goes back again on the land, which becomes enriched; and the more that is taken from it; the more there is to be returned, the more it is enriched, the larger are the crops, and the greater is the ability of the farmer to make demands on the artisan. The reward of the latter increases with the growth in the value of the land and with the increase in the wealth of the land-owners by whom he is surrounded; and thus it is that all grow rich and free together, and that the community acquires from year to year power to resist attempts at taxation beyond that really needed for the maintenance of the rights of person and property. The greater the power to make exchanges at home, the greater will always be found the freedom of man in relation to thought, speech, action, and trade, and the greater the value of land. The object of the policy pursued toward the colonies was directly the reverse of all this, tending to prevent any diversification whatsoever of employments, and thus not only to prevent increase in the value of land, but to diminish its value, because it forbade the return to the earth of any portion of its products. It forbade association, because it limited the whole people to a single pursuit. It forbade the immigration of artisans, the growth of towns, the establishment of schools, and consequently forbade the growth of intellect among the labourers or their owners. It forbade the growth of population, because it drove the women and the children to the culture of sugar among the richest and most unhealthy soils of the islands. It thus impoverished the land and its owners, exterminated the slave, and weakened the community, thus making it a mere instrument in the hands of the people who effected and superintended the exchanges--the merchants and the government--the class of persons that, in all ages, has thriven at the cost of the cultivator of the earth. By separating the consumer from the producer, they were enabled, as has been shown, to take to themselves three-fourths of the whole sales of the commodities consumed, leaving but one-fourth to be divided between the land and labour that had produced it. They, of course, grew strong, while the sugar-producing land and labour grew weak, and the weaker they became, the less was the need for regarding the rights of either. In this state of things it was that the landholder was required to accept a fixed sum of money as compensation for relinquishing his claim to demand of the labourer the performance of the work to which he had been accustomed. Unfortunately, however, the system pursued has effectually prevented that improvement of feeling and taste needed to produce in the latter desires for any thing beyond a sufficiency of food and a shirt. Towns and shops not having grown, he had not been accustomed even to see the commodities that tempted his fellow-labourers in the French Islands. Schools not having existed, even for the whites, he had acquired no desire for books for himself, or for instruction for his children. His wife had acquired no taste for dress, because she had been limited to field labour. Suddenly emancipated from control, they gratified the only desire that had been permitted to grow up in them--the love of perfect idleness, to be indulged to such extent as was consistent with obtaining the little food and clothing needed for the maintenance of existence. Widely different would have been the state of affairs had they been permitted to make their exchanges at home, giving the cotton and the sugar for the cloth and the iron produced by the labour and from the soil of the island. The producer of the sugar would then have had all the cloth given for it by the consumer, instead of obtaining one-fourth of it, and then the land would have increased in value, the planter would have grown rich, and the labourer would have become free, by virtue of a great natural law which provides that the more rapid the augmentation of wealth, the greater must be the demand for labour, the greater must be the _quantity_ of commodities produced by the labourer, the larger must be his _proportion_ of the product, and the greater must be the tendency toward his becoming a free man and himself a capitalist.[38] As a consideration for abstaining from converting their own sugar and cotton into cloth, it had been provided that their products should enjoy certain advantages in the ports of the mother country; and the understanding at the date of emancipation was that the free negro should continue in the enjoyment of the same privileges that had been allowed to the slave and his master. It was soon, however, discovered that the negro, having scarcely any desire beyond the food that could be obtained from a little patch of land, would not work, and that, consequently, the supply of sugar was reduced, with a large increase of price, and that thus the ship-owner suffered because of diminished freights, the merchant because of reduced consumption, and the government because of reduced revenue. Instead of obtaining, as before, one-fourth of the product, the cultivator had now perhaps one-half, because the taxes did not rise with the rise of price. Nevertheless, the land-owners and labourers of the island were weaker than before, for all power of association had disappeared; and now it was that the trader and the government discovered that if they would continue to draw from the sugar producers of the world their usual supplies of public and private revenue, they must resort again to slave labour, putting the poor free negro of Jamaica, with his exhausted soil, on the same footing with the slave of Brazil and Cuba, on a virgin soil; and this, too, at a moment when the science of Europe had triumphed over the difficulty of making sugar cheaply from the beet-root, and Germany, France, and Belgium were threatening to furnish supplies so abundant as almost to exclude the produce of the cane. They, too, had the sugar-refinery close at hand, whereas the poor free negro was not permitted to refine his product, _nor is he so even now_, although it is claimed that sugar might still be grown with advantage, were he permitted to exercise even that small amount of control over his labour and its products. What was the character of the machinery with which they were to enter on this competition will be seen by the following extract:-- "I could not learn that there were any estates on the island decently stocked with implements of husbandry. Even the modern axe is not in general use; for felling the larger class of trees the negroes commonly use what they call an axe, which is shaped much like a wedge, except that it is a little wider at the edge than at the opposite end, at the very extremity of which a perfectly straight handle is inserted. A more awkward thing for chopping could not be well conceived--at least, so I thought until I saw the instrument in yet more general use about the houses in the country, for cutting firewood. It was, in shape, size, and appearance, more like the outer half of the blade of a scythe, stuck into a small wooden handle, than any thing else I can compare it to: with this long knife, for it is nothing else, I have seen negroes hacking at branches of palm for several minutes, to accomplish what a good wood-chopper, with an American axe, would finish at a single stroke. I am not now speaking of the poorer class of negro proprietors, whose poverty or ignorance might excuse this, but of the proprietors of large estates, which have cost their thousands of pounds."[39] Cuba, too, had its cities and its shops, and these it had because the Spanish government had not desired to compel the people of the island to limit themselves to cultivation alone. Manufactures were small in extent, but they existed; and the power to make exchanges on the spot had tended to prevent the growth of absenteeism. The land-owners were present to look after their estates, and every thing therefore tended toward improvement and civilization, with constantly increasing attraction of both capital and labour. Jamaica, on the contrary, had but a seaport so poor as not to have a single foot of sidewalk paved, and of which three-fourths of the inhabitants were of the black race; and among them all, blacks and whites, there were no mechanics. In the capital of the island, Spanishtown, with a population of 5000, there was not to be found, in 1850, a single shop, nor a respectable hotel, nor even a dray-cart;[40] and in the whole island there was not a stage, nor any other mode of regular conveyance, by land or water, except on the little railroad of fifteen miles from Kingston to the capital.[41] Such was the machinery of production, transportation, and exchange, by aid of which the free people of Jamaica were to maintain "unlimited competition" with Cuba, and its cities, railroads, and virgin soil, and with Europe and its science. What is to be the ultimate result may be inferred from the following comparative view of the first four years of the century, and the last four for which we have returns:-- Sugar, Rum, Coffee, hhds. puncheons. lbs. ------ ---------- ------- 1800 to 1803, average export, 124,000 44,000 14,600,000 1845 to 1848, average export 44,000 17,000 6,000,000 The consequence of this is seen in the fact that it requires the wages of two men, for a day, to pay for a pound of butter, and of two women to pay for a pound of ham, while it would need the labour of eighty or a hundred men, for a day, to pay for a barrel of flour.[42] The London _Times_ has recently stated that the free labourer now obtains less food than he did in the days of slavery, and there appears no reason to doubt the accuracy of its information. This view would, indeed, seem to be fully confirmed by the admission, in the House of Commons, that the cost of sugar "in labour and food" is less now than it was six years since.[43] How indeed can it be otherwise? The object sought for is cheap sugar, and with a view to its attainment the production of sugar is stimulated in every quarter; and we all know that the more that is produced the larger will be the quantity poured into the market of England, and the greater will be the power of the people of that country to dictate the terms upon which they will consent to consume it. Extensive cultivation and good crops produce low prices, high freights, large commissions, and large revenue; and when such crops are made the people of England enjoy "cheap sugar" and are "prosperous," but the slave is rendered thereby more a slave, obtaining less and less food in return for his labour. Nevertheless, it is in that direction that the whole of the present policy of England points. The "prosperity" of her people is to be secured by aid of cheap sugar and high-priced cloth and iron; and the more exclusively the people of India and of Brazil can be forced to devote themselves to the labours of the field, the cheaper will be sugar and the greater will be the tendency of cloth and iron to be dear. What, however, becomes of the poor free negro? The more sugar he sends the more the stocks accumulate, and the lower are the prices, and the smaller is his power to purchase clothing or machinery, as will now be shown. The London _Economist_, of November 13, furnishes the following statement of stocks and prices of sugar in the principal markets of Europe:-- 1849. 1850. 1851. 1852. ----- ----- ----- ----- Stocks.... cwt.. 3,563,000 2,895,000 3,810,000 3,216,000 Prices--duty free. Havana Brown... 17 to 24s. 20 to 27s. 16 to 22s. 19 to 26s. Brazil Brown... 16 to 20s. 18 to 22s. 12 to 17s. 16 to 20s. The stocks of 1849 and 1852 were, as we see, nearly alike, and the prices did not greatly differ. Taking them, therefore, as the standard, we see that a _diminution_ of supply so small as to cause a diminution of stock to the extent of about 400,000 cwts., or only _about three per cent. of the import_, added about _fifteen per cent._ to the prices of the whole crop in 1850; whereas a similar _excess_ of supply in 1851 caused a reduction of prices almost as great. The actual quantity received in Europe in the first ten months of the last year had been 509,000 cwts. less than in the corresponding months of the previous one. The average monthly receipts are about a million of cwts. per month, and if we take the prices of those two years as a standard, the following will be the result:-- 1851...... 12,000,000 cwts. Average 16s. 9d.... £10,050,000 1852...... 11,500,000 " " 20s. 3d.... 11,643,750 ---------- Gain on short crop ............................. 1,593,750 If now we compare 1850 with 1851, the following is the result:-- 1851 as above .................................. 10,050,000 1850...... 11,000,000 cwts. Average 21s. 9d.... 11,971,250 ---------- 1,921,250 Now if this reduction of export had been a consequence of increased domestic consumption, we should have to add the value of that million to the product, and this would give............................. 1,187,500 ---------- £3,108,750 ========== We have here a difference of thirty per cent., resulting from a diminution of export to the amount of one-twelfth of the export to Europe, and not more than a twenty-fourth of the whole crop. Admitting the crop to have been 24,000,000 of cwts., and it must have been more, the total difference produced by this abstraction of four per cent. from the markets of Europe would be more than six millions of pounds, or thirty millions of dollars. Such being the result of a difference of four per cent., if the people of Cuba, Brazil, India, and other countries were to turn some of their labour to the production of cloth, iron, and other commodities for which they are now wholly dependent on Europe, and thus diminish their necessity for export to the further extent of two per cent., is it not quite certain that the effect would be almost to double the value of the sugar crop of the world, to the great advantage of the free cultivator of Jamaica, who would realize more for his sugar, while obtaining his cloth and his iron cheaper? If he could do this would he not become a freer man? Is not this, however, directly the reverse of what is sought by those who believe the prosperity of England to be connected with cheap sugar, and who therefore desire that competition for the sale of sugar should be _unlimited_, while competition, for the sale of cloth is to be _limited_? "Unlimited competition" looks to competition for the sale of raw produce in the markets of England, and to the destruction of any competition with England for the sale of manufactured goods; and it is under this system that the poor labourer of Jamaica is being destroyed. He is now more a slave than ever, because his labour yields him less of the necessaries and comforts of life than when a master was bound to provide for him. Such is a brief history of West India slavery, from its commencement to the present day, and from it the reader will be enabled to form an estimate of the judgment which dictated immediate and unconditional emancipation, and of the humanity that subsequently dictated unlimited freedom of competition for the sale of sugar. That of those who advocated emancipation vast numbers were actuated by the most praise worthy motives, there can be no doubt; but unenlightened enthusiasm has often before led almost to crime, and it remains to be seen if the impartial historian, will not, at a future day, say that such has been here the case. As regards the course which has been since pursued toward these impoverished, ignorant, and, defenceless people, he will perhaps have less difficulty; and it is possible that in recording it, the motives which led to it, and the results, he may find himself forced to place it among crimes of the deepest dye. CHAPTER X. HOW SLAVERY GREW AND IS MAINTAINED IN THE UNITED STATES. The first attempt at manufacturing any species of cloth in the North American provinces produced a resolution on the part of the House of Commons, [1710,] that "the erecting of manufactories in the colonies had a tendency to lessen their dependence on Great Britain." Soon afterward complaints were made to Parliament that the colonists were establishing manufactories for themselves, and the House of Commons ordered the Board of Trade to report on the subject, which was done at great length. In 1732, the exportation of hats from province to province was prohibited, and the number of apprentices to be taken by hatters was limited. In 1750 the erection of any mill or other engine for splitting or rolling iron was prohibited; but pig iron was allowed to be imported into England duty free, that it might there be manufactured and sent back again. At a later period, Lord Chatham declared that he would not permit the colonists to make even a hobnail for themselves--and his views were then and subsequently carried into effect by the absolute prohibition in 1765 of the export of artisans, in 1781 of woollen machinery, in 1782 of cotton machinery and artificers in cotton, in 1785 of iron and steel-making machinery and workmen in those departments of trade, and in 1799 by the prohibition of the export of colliers, lest other countries should acquire the art of mining coal. The tendency of the system has thus uniformly been-- I. To prevent the application of labour elsewhere than in England to any pursuit but that of agriculture, and thus to deprive the weaker portion of society--the women and children--of any employment but in the field. II. To compel whole populations to produce the same commodities, and thus to deprive them of the power to make exchanges among themselves. III. To compel them, therefore, to export to England all their produce in its rudest forms, at great cost of transportation. IV. To deprive them of all power of returning to the land the manure yielded by its products, and thus to compel them to exhaust their land. V. To deprive them of the power of associating together for the building of towns, the establishment of schools, the making of roads, or the defence of their rights. VI. To compel them, with every step in the process of exhausting the land, to increase their distances from each other and from market. VII. To compel the waste of all labour that could not be employed in the field. VIII. To compel the waste of all the vast variety of things almost valueless in themselves, but which acquire value as men are enabled to work in combination with each other.[44] IX. To prevent increase in the value of land and in the demand for the labour of man; and, X. To prevent advance toward civilization and freedom. That such were the tendencies of the system was seen by the people of the colonies. "It is well known and understood," said Franklin, in 1771, "that whenever a manufacture is established which employs a number of hands, it raises the value of lands in the neighbouring country all around it, partly by the greater demand near at hand for the produce of the land, and partly from the plenty of money drawn by the manufactures to that part of the country. It seems, therefore," he continued, "the interest of all our farmers and owners of lands, to encourage our young manufactures in preference to foreign ones imported among us from distant countries." Such was the almost universal feeling of the country, and to the restriction on the power to apply labour was due, in a great degree, the Revolution. The power to compel the colonists to make all their exchanges abroad gave to the merchants of England, and to the government, the same power of taxation that we see to have been so freely exercised in regard to sugar. In a paper published in 1750, in the London General Advertiser, it was stated that Virginia then exported 50,000 hhds. of tobacco, producing £550,000, of which the ship-owner, the underwriter, the commission merchant, and the government took £450,000, leaving to be divided between the land-owner and labourer only £100,000, or about eighteen per cent., which is less even than the proportion stated by _Gee_, in his work of that date. Under such circumstances the planter could accumulate little capital to aid him in the improvement of his cultivation. The Revolution came, and thenceforward there existed no legal impediments to the establishment of home markets by aid of which the farmer might be enabled to lessen the cost of transporting his produce to market, and his manure from market, thus giving to his land some of those advantages of situation which elsewhere add so largely to its value. The prohibitory laws had, however, had the effect of preventing the gradual growth of the mechanic arts, and Virginia had no towns of any note, while to the same circumstances was due the fact that England was prepared to put down all attempts at competition with her in the manufacture of cloth, or of iron. The territory of the former embraced forty millions of acres, and her widely scattered population amounted to little more than 600,000. At the North, some descriptions of manufacture had grown slowly up, and the mechanics were much more numerous, and towns had gradually grown to be very small cities; the consequence of which was that the farmer there, backed by the artisan, always his ally, was more able to protect himself against the trader, who represented the foreign manufacturer. Everywhere, however, the growth of manufactures was slow, and everywhere, consequently, the farmer was seen exhausting his land in growing wheat, tobacco, and other commodities, to be sent to distant markets, from which no manure could be returned. With the exhaustion of the land its owners became, of course, impoverished, and there arose a necessity for the removal of the people who cultivated it, to new lands, to be in turn exhausted. In the North, the labourer thus circumstanced, _removed himself_. In the South, he had _to be removed_. Sometimes the planter abandoned his land and travelled forth with all his people, but more frequently he found himself compelled to part with some of his slaves to others; and thus has the domestic slave trade grown by aid of the exhaustive process to which the land and its owner have been subjected. The reader may obtain some idea of the extent of the exhaustion that has taken place, by a perusal of the following extracts from an address to the Agricultural Society of Albemarle County, Virginia, by one of the best authorities of the State, the Hon. Andrew Stevenson, late Speaker of the House of Representatives, and Minister to England. Looking to what is the "real situation" of things, the speaker asks-- "Is there an intelligent and impartial man who can cast his eyes over the State and not be impressed with the truth, deplorable as it is afflicting, that the produce of most of our lands is not only small in proportion to the extent in cultivation, but that the lands themselves have been gradually sinking and becoming worse, under a most defective and ruinous system of cultivation?" "The truth is," he continues, "we must all feel and know that the spirit of agricultural improvement has been suffered to languish too long in Virginia, and that it is now reaching a point, in the descending scale, from which, if it is not revived, and that very speedily, our State must continue not only third or fourth in population, as she now is, but consent to take her station among her smaller sisters of the Union." The cause of this unhappy state of things he regards as being to be found in "a disregard of scientific knowledge" and "a deep-rooted attachment to old habits of cultivation," together with the "practice of hard cropping and injudicious rotation of crops, leading them to cultivate more land than they can manure, or than they have means of improving;" and the consequences are found in the fact that in all the country east of the Blue Ridge, the average product of wheat "does not come up to seven bushels to the acre," four of which are required to restore the seed and defray the cost of cultivation, leaving to the land-owner for his own services and those of a hundred acres of land, three hundred bushels, worth, at present prices, probably two hundred and seventy dollars! Even this, however, is not as bad an exhibit as is produced in reference to another populous district of more than a hundred miles in length--that between Lynchburg and Richmond--in which the product is estimated at _not exceeding six bushels to the acre_! Under such circumstances, we can scarcely be surprised to learn from the speaker that the people of his great State, where meadows abound and marl exists in unlimited quantity, import potatoes from the poor States of the North, and are compelled to be dependent upon them for hay and butter, the importers of which realize fortunes, while the farmers around them are everywhere exhausting their land and obtaining smaller crops in each successive year. Why is this so? Why should Virginia import potatoes and hay, cheese and butter? An acre of potatoes may be made to yield four hundred bushels, and meadows yield hay by tons, and yet her people raise wheat, of which they obtain six or seven bushels to the acre, and corn, of which they obtain fifteen or twenty, and with the produce of these they buy butter and cheese, pork and potatoes, which yield to the producer five dollars where they get one--and import many of these things too, from States in which manufacturing populations abound, and in which all these commodities should, in the natural course of things, be higher in price than in Virginia, where all, even when employed, are engaged in the cultivation of the soil. The answer to these questions is to be found in the fact that the farmers and planters of the State can make no manure. They raise wheat and corn, which they send elsewhere to be consumed; and the people among whom it is consumed put the refuse on their own lands, and thus are enabled to raise crops that count by tons, which they then exchange with the producers of the wheat produced on land that yields six bushels to the acre. "How many of our people," continues the speaker, "do we see disposing of their lands at ruinous prices, and relinquishing their birthplaces and friends, to settle themselves in the West; and many not so much from choice as from actual inability to support their families and rear and educate their children out of the produce of their exhausted lands--once fertile, but rendered barren and unproductive by a ruinous system of cultivation. "And how greatly is this distress heightened, in witnessing, as we often do, the successions and reverses of this struggle between going and staying, on the part of many emigrants. And how many are there, who after removing, remain only a few years and then return to seize again upon a portion of their native land, and die where they were born. How strangely does it remind us of the poor shipwrecked mariner, who, touching in the midst of the storm the shore, lays hold of it, but is borne seaward by the receding wave; but struggling back, torn and lacerate, he grasps again the rock, with bleeding hands, and still clings to it, as a last and forlorn hope. Nor is this to be wondered at. Perhaps it was the home of his childhood--the habitation of his fathers for past generations--the soil upon which had been expended the savings and nourishment, the energies and virtues of a long life--'the sweat of the living, and the ashes of the dead.' "Oh! how hard to break such ties as these. "This is no gloomy picture of the imagination; but a faithful representation of what most of us know and feel to be true. Who is it that has not had some acquaintance or neighbour--some friend, perhaps some relative, forced into this current of emigration, and obliged from necessity, in the evening, probably, of a long life, to abandon his State and friends, and the home of his fathers and childhood, to seek a precarious subsistence in the supposed El Dorados of the West?" This is a terrible picture, and yet it is but the index to one still worse that must follow in its train. Well does the hon. speaker say that-- "There is another evil attending this continual drain of our population to the West, next in importance to the actual loss of the population itself, and that is, its tendency to continue and enlarge our wretched system of cultivation. "The moment some persons feel assured that for present gain they can exhaust the fertility of their lands in the old States, and then abandon them for those in the West, which, being rich, require neither the aid of science nor art, the natural tendency is at once to give over all efforts at improvement themselves, and kill their land as quickly as possible--then sell it for what it will bring or abandon it as a waste. And such will be found to be the case with too many of the emigrants from the lowlands of Virginia." Another distinguished Virginian, Mr. Ruffin, in urging an effort to restore the lands that have been exhausted, and to bring into activity the rich ones that have never been drained, estimates the advantages to be derived by Lower Virginia alone at $500,000,000. "The strength, physical, intellectual, and moral, as well as the revenue of the commonwealth, will," he says, "Soon derive new and great increase from the growing improvements of that one and the smallest of the great divisions of her territory, which was the poorest by natural constitution--still more, the poorest by long exhausting tillage--its best population gone or going away, and the remaining portion sinking into apathy and degradation, and having no hope left except that which was almost universally entertained of fleeing from the ruined country and renewing the like work of destruction on the fertile lands of the far West." If we look farther South, we find the same state of affairs. North Carolina abounds in rich lands, undrained and uncultivated, and coal and iron ore abound. Her area is greater than that of Ireland, and yet her population is but 868,000; and it has increased only 130,000 in twenty years, and, from 1830 to 1840; the increase was only 16,000. In South Carolina, men have been everywhere doing precisely what has been described in reference to Virginia; and yet the State has, says Governor Seabrook, in his address to the State Agricultural Society, "millions of uncleared acres of unsurpassed fertility, which seem to solicit a trial of their powers from the people of the plantation States." * * "In her borders," he continues, "there is scarcely a vegetable product essential to the human race that cannot be furnished." Marl and lime abound, millions of acres of rich meadow-land remain in a state of nature, and "the seashore parishes," he adds, "possess unfailing supplies of salt mud, salt grass, and shell-lime." So great, nevertheless, was the tendency to the abandonment of the land, that in the ten years from 1830 to 1840 the white population increased but 1000 and the black but 12,000, whereas the natural increase would have given 150,000! Allowing Virginia, at the close of the Revolution, 600,000 people, she should now have, at the usual rate of increase, and excluding all allowance for immigration, 4,000,000, or one to every ten acres; and no one at all familiar with the vast advantages of the state can doubt her capability of supporting more than thrice that number.[45] Nevertheless, the total number in 1850 was but 1,424,000, and the increase in twenty years had been but 200,000, when it should have been 1,200,000. If the reader desire to know what has become of all these people, he may find most of them among the millions now inhabiting Alabama and Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, and Arkansas; and if he would know why they are now there to be found, the answer to the question may be given in the words--"They borrowed from the earth, and they did not repay, and therefore she expelled them." It has been said, and truly said, that "the nation which commences by exporting food will end by exporting men." When men come together and combine their efforts, they are enabled to bring into activity all the vast and various powers of the earth; and the more they come together, the greater is the value of land, the greater the demand, for labour, the higher its price, and the greater the freedom of man. When, on the contrary, they separate from each other, the greater is the tendency to a decline in the value of land, the less is the value of labour, and the less the freedom of man. Such being the case, if we desire to ascertain the ultimate cause of the existence of the domestic slave trade, it would seem to be necessary only to ascertain the cause of the exhaustion of the land. The reason usually assigned for this will be found in the following passage, extracted from one of the English journals of the day;-- "The mode of agriculture usually coincident with the employment of slave labour is essentially exhaustive, and adapted therefore only to the virgin-richness of a newly-colonized soil. The slave can plant, and dig, and hoe: he works rudely and lazily with rude tools: and his unwilling feet tread the same path of enforced labour day after day. But slave labour is not adapted to the operations of scientific agriculture, which restores its richness to a wornout soil; and it is found to be a fact that the planters of the Northern slave States, as, _e.g._, Virginia, gradually desert the old seats of civilization, and advance further and further into the yet untilled country. Tobacco was the great staple of Virginian produce for many years after that beautiful province was colonized by Englishmen. It has exhausted the soil; grain crops have succeeded, and been found hardly less exhaustive; and emigration of both white and coloured population to the West and South has taken place to a very large extent, The result may be told in the words of an American witness:--'That part of Virginia which lies upon tide waters presents an aspect of universal decay. Its population diminishes, and it sinks day by day into a lower depth of exhaustion and poverty. The country between tide waters and the Blue Ridge is fast passing into the same condition. Mount Vernon is a desert waste; Monticello is little better, and the same circumstances which have desolated the lands of Washington and Jefferson have impoverished every planter in the State. Hardly any have escaped, save the owners of the rich bottom lands along James River, the fertility of which it seems difficult utterly to destroy.'[46] Now a Virginia planter stands in much the same relation to his plantation as an absentee Irish landlord to his estate; the care of the land is in each case handed over to a middleman, who is anxious to screw out of it as large a return of produce or rent as possible; and pecuniary embarrassment is in both cases the result. But as long as every pound of cotton grown on the Mississippi and the Red River finds eager customers in Liverpool, the price of slaves in those districts cannot fail to keep up. In many cases the planter of the Northern slave States emigrates to a region where he can employ his capital of thews and sinews more profitably than at home. In many others, he turns his plantation into an establishment for slave breeding, and sells his rising stock for labour in the cottonfield."--_Prospective Review_ Nov. 1852. Unhappily, however, for this reasoning precisely the same exhaustion is visible in the Northern States, as the reader may see by a perusal of the statements on this subject given by Professor Johnson, in his "Notes on North America," of which the following is a specimen:-- "Exhaustion has diminished the produce of the land, formerly the great staple of the country. When the wheat fell off, barley, which at first yielded fifty or sixty bushels, was raised year after year, till the land fell away from this, and became full of weeds."--Vol. i. 259. Rotation of crops cannot take place at a distance from market The exhaustive character of the system is well shown in the following extract:-- "In the State of New York there are some twelve million acres of improved land, which includes all meadows and enclosed pastures. This area employs about five hundred thousand labourers, being an average of twenty-four acres to the hand. At this ratio, the number of acres of improved land in the United States is one hundred, and twenty millions. But New York is an old and more densely populated State than an average in the Union; and probably twenty-five acres per head is a juster estimate for the whole country. At this rate, the aggregate is one hundred and twenty-five millions. Of these improved lands, it is confidently believed that at least four-fifths are now suffering deterioration in a greater or less degree. "The fertility of some, particularly in the planting States, is passing rapidly away; in others, the progress of exhaustion is so slow as hardly to be observed by the cultivators themselves. To keep within the truth, the annual income from the soil may be said to be diminished ten cents an acre on one hundred million acres, or four-fifths of the whole. "This loss of income is ten millions of dollars, and equal to sinking a capital of one hundred and sixty-six million six hundred and sixty-six thousand dollars a year, paying six per cent. annual interest. That improved farming lands may justly be regarded as capital, and a fair investment when paying six per cent. interest, and perfectly safe, no one will deny. This deterioration is not unavoidable, for thousands of skilful farmers have taken fields, poor in point of natural productiveness, and, instead of diminishing their fertility, have added ten cents an acre to their annual income, over and above all expenses. If this wise and improving system of rotation tillage and husbandry were universally adopted, or applied to the one hundred million acres now being exhausted, it would be equivalent to creating each year an additional capital of one hundred and sixty-six millions six hundred and sixty-six thousand dollars, and placing it in permanent real estate, where it would pay six per cent. annual interest. For all practical purposes, the difference between the two systems is three hundred, and thirty-three millions three hundred and thirty-three thousand dollars a year to the country. "Eight million acres [in the State of New York] are in the hands of three hundred thousand persons, who still adhere to the colonial practice of extracting from the virgin soil all it will yield, so long as it will pay expenses to crop it, and then leave it in a thin, poor pasture for a term of years. Some of these impoverished farms, which seventy-five years ago produced from twenty to thirty bushels of wheat, on an average, per acre, now yield only from five to eight bushels. In an exceedingly interesting work entitled 'American Husbandry,' published in London in 1775, and written by an American, the following remarks may be found on page 98, vol. i.:--'Wheat, in many parts of the province, (New York,) yields a larger produce than is common in England. Upon good lands about Albany, where the climate is the coldest in the country, they sow two bushels and better upon an acre, and reap from _twenty_ to _forty_; the latter quantity, however, is not often had, but from twenty to _thirty_ are common; and with such bad husbandry as would not yield the like in England, and much less in Scotland. This is owing to the _richness_ and _freshness_ of the land.' "According to the State census of 1845, Albany county now produces only seven and a half bushels of wheat per acre, although its farmers are on tide water and near the capital of the State, with a good home market, and possess every facility for procuring the most valuable fertilizers. Dutchess county, also on the Hudson River, produces an average of only five bushels per acre; Columbia, six bushels; Rensselaer, eight; Westchester, seven; which is higher than the average of soils that once gave a return larger than the wheat lands of England even with 'bad husbandry.' "Fully to renovate the eight million acres of partially exhausted lands in the State of New York, will cost at least an average of twelve dollars and a half per acre, or an aggregate of one hundred millions of dollars. It is not an easy task to replace all the bone-earth, potash, sulphur, magnesia, and organized nitrogen in mould consumed in a field which has been unwisely cultivated fifty or seventy-five years. Phosphorus is not an abundant mineral anywhere, and his _sub-soil_ is about the only resource of the husbandman after his surface-soil has lost most of its phosphates. The three hundred thousand persons that cultivate these eight million acres of impoverished soils annually produce less by twenty-five dollars each than they would if the land had not been injured. "The aggregate of this loss to the State and the world is seven million five hundred thousand dollars per annum, or more than seven per cent. interest on what it would cost to renovate the deteriorated soils. There is no possible escape from this oppressive tax on labour of seven million five hundred thousand dollars, but to improve the land, or run off and leave it."--_Patent Office Report_, 1849 It is not slavery that produces exhaustion of the soil, but exhaustion of the soil that causes slavery to continue. The people of England rose from slavery to freedom as the land was improved and rendered productive, and as larger numbers of men were enabled to obtain subsistence from the same surface; and it was precisely as the land thus acquired value that they became free. Such, too, has been the case with every people that has been enabled to return to the land the manure yielded by its products, because of their having a market at home. On the contrary, there is no country in the world, in which men have been deprived, of the power to improve their land, in which slavery has not been maintained, to be aggravated in intensity as the land became more and more exhausted, as we see to have been the case in the West Indies. It is to this perpetual separation from each other that is due the poverty and weakness of the South. At the close of the Revolution, the now slave States contained probably 1,600,000 people, and those States contained about 120,000,000 of acres, giving an average of about eighty acres to each. In 1850, the population had grown to 8,500,000, scattered over more than 300,000,000 of acres, giving about forty acres to each. The consequence of this dispersion is that the productive power is very small, as is here seen in an estimate for 1850, taken from a Southern journal of high reputation:--[47] Cotton............................. 105,600,000 Tobacco............................ 15,000,000 Rice............................... 3,000,000 Naval stores....................... 2,000,000 Sugar.............................. 12,396,150 Hemp............................... 695,840 138,691,990 ----------- If we now add for food an equal amount, and this is certainly much in excess of the truth...... 138,691,990 And for all other products..................... 22,616,020 ------------ We obtain................................... $300,000,000 as the total production of eight millions and a half of people, or about $35 per head. The total production of the Union in 1850 cannot have been short of 2500 millions; and if we deduct from that sum the above quantity, we shall have remaining 2150 millions as the product of fourteen millions and a half of Northern people, or more than four times as much per head. The difference is caused by the fact that at the North artisans have placed themselves near to the farmer, and towns and cities have grown up, and exchanges are made more readily, and the farmer is not to the same extent obliged to exhaust his land, and dispersion therefore goes on more slowly; and there is, in many of the States, an extensive demand for those commodities of which the earth yields largely, such as potatoes, cabbages, turnips, &c. &c. With each step in the process of coming together at the North, men tend to become more free; whereas the dispersion of the South produces everywhere the trade in slaves of which the world complains, and which would soon cease to exist if the artisan could be brought to take his place by the side of the producer of food and cotton. Why he cannot do so may be found in the words of a recent speech of Mr. Cardwell, member of Parliament from Liverpool, congratulating the people of England on the fact that free trade had so greatly damaged the cotton manufacture of this country, that the domestic consumption was declining from year to year. In this is to be found the secret of the domestic slave trade of the South, and its weakness, now so manifest. The artisan has been everywhere the ally of the farmer, and the South has been unable to form that alliance, the consequences of which are seen in the fact that it is always exporting men and raw materials, and exhausting its soil and itself: and the greater the tendency to exhaustion, the greater is the pro-slavery feeling. That such should be the case is most natural. The man who exhausts his land attaches to it but little value, and he abandons it, but he attaches much value to the slave whom he can carry away with him. The pro-slavery feeling made its appearance first in the period between 1830 and 1840. Up to 1832, there had existed a great tendency in Maryland, Virginia, and Kentucky toward freedom, but that disappeared; and the reason why it did so may be seen in the greatly increased tendency to the abandonment of the older tobacco and cotton growing States, as here shown:-- 1820. 1830. 1840. 1850. ----- ----- ----- ----- Total population: Virginia......... 1,065,379 1,211,405 1,239,797 1,424,863 South Carolina..... 502,741 581,185 594,398 668,247 Ratio of increase: Virginia..................... 13.6 2.3 15.2 South Carolina............... 15.6 2.3 12.4 With the increase in the export of slaves to the South, the negro population declined in its ratio of increase, whereas it has grown with the growth of the power of the slave to remain at home, as is here shown:-- 1820. 1830. 1840. 1850. ----- ----- ----- ----- Total black population: 1,779,885 2,328,642 2,873,703 3,591,000 Ratio of increase........... 30 30.8 24 25 We see thus that the more the black population can remain at home, the more rapidly they increase; and the reason why such is the case is, that at home they are among their own people, by whom they have been known from infancy, and are of course better fed and clothed, more tenderly treated, and more lightly worked, with far greater tendency toward freedom. It would thence appear that if we desire to bring about the freedom of the negro, we must endeavour to arrest the domestic slave trade, and enable the slave and his master to remain at home; and to do this we must look to the causes of the difference in the extent of the trade in the periods above referred to. Doing this, we shall find that from 1820 to 1830 there was a decided tendency toward bringing the artisan to the side of the ploughman; whereas from 1833 to 1840 the tendency was very strong in the opposite direction, and so continued until 1842, at which time a change took place, and continued until near the close of the decennial period, when our present revenue system came fully into operation. The artisan has now ceased to come to the side of the planter. Throughout the country cotton and woollen mills and furnaces and foundries have been closed, and women and children who were engaged in performing the lighter labour of converting cotton into cloth are now being sold for the heavier labour of the cotton-field, as is shown by the following advertisement, now but a few weeks old:-- SALE OF NEGROES.--The negroes belonging to the Saluda Manufacturing Company were sold yesterday for one-fourth cash, the balance in one and two years, with interest, and averaged $599. Boys from 16 to 25 brought $900 to $1000.--_Columbia, (S. C.) Banner_, Dec. 31, 1852. As a necessary consequence of this, the domestic slave trade is now largely increasing, as is shown by the following extract from a recent journal:-- "The emigration to the southern portion of Arkansas, Louisiana, and Texas, during the past fall, has been unusually large, and the tide which flows daily through our streets indicates that the volume abates but little, if any. On the opposite bank of the river are encamped nearly fifty wagons, with probably not less than two hundred and fifty souls. Each night, for a fortnight, there have been, on an average, not less than twenty-five wagons encamped there; and notwithstanding two hand ferry-boats have been constantly plying between the shores, the hourly accession to the number makes the diminution scarcely perceptible."--_Little Rock. (Ark.) Gazette_, Dec. 3, 1852. Had the member for Liverpool been aware that a decline in the tendency toward bringing the cotton-mill to the cotton-field was accompanied by increased exhaustion of the land, increased impoverishment, and increased inability to bring into action the rich soils of the older States, and that with each such step there arose an increased _necessity_ for the expulsion of the people of those States, accompanied by an increased sacrifice of life resulting from the domestic slave trade, he would certainly have hesitated before congratulating Parliament on an occurrence so hostile to the progress of freedom. That the export of negroes, with its accompanying violation of the rights of parents and children, and with its natural tendency toward a total forgetfulness of the sanctity of the marriage tie, has its origin in the exhaustion of the land, there can be no doubt--and that that, in its turn, has its origin in the necessity for a dependence on distant markets, is quite as free from doubt. The man who must go to a distance with his products cannot raise potatoes, turnips, or hay. He must raise the less bulky articles, wheat or cotton and he must take from his land all the elements of which wheat or cotton is composed, and then abandon it. In addition to this, he must stake all his chances of success in his year's cultivation on a single crop; and what are the effects of this is seen in the following paragraph in relation to the wheat cultivation of Virginia in the last season:-- "Never did I know in this State such a destruction of the wheat crop; I have just returned from Albemarle, one of the best counties. The joint-worm, a new enemy of three year's known existence there, has injured every crop, and destroyed many in that and other counties both sides and along the Blue Ridge. I saw many fields that would not yield more than seed, and not a few from which not one peck per acre could be calculated upon. I saw more than one field without a head. The most fortunate calculate upon a half crop only. Corn is backward on the lower James River, embracing my own farm. I have heard to-day from my manager that the caterpillar has made its appearance, and must in the late wheat do serious damage." That State is not permitted to do any thing but grow wheat and tobacco, both of which she must export, and the larger the export the smaller are the returns, under the system of "unlimited competition" for the sale of raw products, and limited competition for the purchase of manufactured ones, which it is the object of British policy to establish. Not only is Virginia limited in the application of her labour, but she is also greatly limited in the extent of her market, because of the unequal distribution of the proceeds of the sales of her products. The pound of tobacco for which the consumer pays 6s. ($1.44,) yields him less than six cents, the whole difference being absorbed by the people who stand between him and the consumer, and who contribute nothing toward the production of his commodity.[48] Now, it is quite clear that if the consumer and he stood face to face with each other, he would receive all that was paid, and that while the one bought at lower prices, the other would sell at higher ones, and both would grow rich. The difficulty with him is that not only is his land exhausted, but he receives but a very small portion of the price paid for its products, and thus is he, like the labourer of Jamaica, exhausted by reason of the heavy taxation to which he is subjected for the support of foreign merchants and foreign governments. As a consequence of all this his land has little value, and he finds himself becoming poorer from year to year, and each year he has to sell a negro for the payment of the tax on his tobacco and his wheat to which he is thus subjected, until he has at length to go himself. If the reader desire to study the working of this system of taxation, he cannot do better than read the first chapter of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," containing the negotiation between Haley and Mr. Shelby for the transfer of Uncle Tom, resulting in the loss of his life in the wilds of Arkansas. The more the necessity for exhausting land and for selling negroes, the cheaper, however, will be wheat and cotton. Uncle Tom might have remained at home had the powers of the land been maintained and had Virginia been enabled to avail herself of her vast resources in coal, iron ore, water-power, &c.; but as she could not do this, he had to go to Arkansas to raise cotton: and the larger the domestic slave trade, the greater must be the decline in the price of that great staple of the South. At no period was that trade so large as in that from 1830 to 1840, and the effects are seen in the following comparative prices of cotton:-- Crops, 1831 and 1832, average 10-1/2. 1841 and 1842, average 7. The export of negroes declined between 1842 and 1850, and the consequence is that cotton has since maintained its price. With the closing of Southern mills the slave trade, is now again growing rapidly, and the consequences will be seen in a large decline in the price of that important product of Southern labour and land. The reader will now observe that it was in the period from 1830 to 1840 that the tendency to emancipation disappeared--that it was in that period were passed various laws adverse to the education of negroes--that it was in that period there was the greatest enlargement of the domestic slave trade--and the greatest decline in the price of cotton. Having remarked these things, and having satisfied himself that they, each and all, have their origin in the fact that the planter is compelled to depend on foreign markets and therefore to exhaust his land, he will be enabled to judge of the accuracy of the view contained in the following sentence :-- "The price of a negro on Red River varies with the price of cotton in Liverpool, and whatever tends to lower the value of the staple here, not only confers an inestimable advantage on our own manufacturing population, but renders slave labour less profitable, and therefore less permanent in Alabama."--_Prospective Review_, No. xxxii. 512. It would be fortunate if philanthropy and pecuniary profit could thus be made to work together, but such unhappily is not the case. When men are enabled to come nearer to each other and combine their efforts, and towns arise, land acquires great value and gradually becomes divided, and with each step in this direction the negro loses his importance in the eye of his owner. When, however, men are forced to abandon the land they have exhausted, it becomes consolidated, and the moveable chattel acquires importance in the eyes of his emigrant owner. At death, the land cannot, under these circumstances, be divided, and therefore the negroes must; and hence it is that such advertisements as the following are a necessary consequence of the system that looks to cheap wheat, cheap sugar, and cheap cotton. HIGH PRICE OF NEGROES.--We extract the following from the Lancaster (S. C.) _Ledger_ of the 5th January last:-- We attended the sale of negroes belonging to the estate of the late S. Beekman, on the 22d of last month, and were somewhat astonished at the high price paid for negroes. Negro men brought from $800 to $1000, the greater number at or near the latter price. One (a blacksmith) brought $1425. We learn from the Winsboro _Register_, that on Monday, the 3d inst., a large sale of negroes was made by the Commissioner in Equity for Fairfleld district, principally the property of James Gibson, deceased. The negroes were only tolerably likely, and averaged about $620 each. The sales were made on a credit of twelve months.--_Charleston (S. C.) Courier_. The more the planter is forced to depend upon tobacco the lower will be its price abroad, and the more he must exhaust his land. The more rapid the exhaustion the more must be the tendency to emigrate. The more the necessity for depending exclusively on wheat, the greater the necessity for making a market for it by raising slaves for sale: and in several of the older Southern States the planter now makes nothing but what results from the increase of "stock." Of all the exporters of food England is the largest, said a distinguished English merchant, in a speech delivered some years since. In some parts of that country it is manufactured into iron, and in others into cloth, in order that it may travel cheaply, and this is quite in accordance with the advice of Adam Smith. With a view, however, to prevent other nations from following in the course so strongly urged upon them by that great man, labour has been cheapened, and men and women, boys and girls, have been accustomed to work together in the same mine, and often in a state of _entire nudity_; while other, women and children have been compelled to work for fourteen or sixteen hours a day for six days in the week, and for small wages, in the mill or workshop--and this has been done in accordance with the advice of Mr. Huskisson, who, from his place in Parliament, told his countrymen that in order "to give capital a fair remuneration, _labour must be kept down_"--that is, the labourer must be deprived of the power to determine for himself for whom he would work, or what should be his reward. It was needed, as was then declared by another of the most eminent statesmen of Britain, "that the manufactures of all other nations should be strangled in their infancy," and such has from that day to the present been the object of British policy. Hence it is that England is now so great an exporter of food manufactured into cloth and iron. The people of Massachusetts manufacture their grain into fish, cloth, and various other commodities, with a view to enable it cheaply to travel to market. Those of Illinois, unable to convert their corn into coal or iron, find themselves obliged to manufacture it into pork. The Virginian would manufacture his corn and his wheat into cloth, or into coal and iron, if he could; but this he cannot do, although close to the producer of cotton, and occupying a land abounding in all the raw materials of which machinery is composed; and having, too, abundant labour power that runs to waste. Why he cannot do it is that England follows the advice of Mr. Huskisson, and cheapens labour with a view to prevent other nations from following the advice of Adam Smith. The whole energies of the State are therefore given to the raising of tobacco and corn, both of which must go abroad, and as the latter cannot travel profitably in its rude state, it requires to be manufactured, and the only branch of manufacture permitted to the Virginian is that of negroes, and hence it is that their export is so large, and that cotton is so cheap. Widely different would be the course of things could he be permitted to employ a reasonable portion of his people in the development of the vast resources of the State--opening mines, erecting furnaces, smelting iron, making machinery, and building mills. Fewer persons would then raise corn and more would be employed in consuming it, and the price at home would then rise to a level with that in the distant market, and thus would the land acquire value, while the cost of raising negroes would be increased. Towns would then grow up, and exchanges would be made on the spot, and thus would the planter be enabled to manure his land. Labour would become more productive, and there would be more commodities to be given in exchange for labour; and the more rapid the increase in the amount of production the greater would be the tendency toward enabling the labourer to determine for whom he would work and what should be his reward. Population would then rapidly increase, and land would become divided, and the little black cultivator of cabbages and potatoes would be seen taking the place of the poor white owner of large bodies of exhausted land, and thus would the negro tend toward freedom as his master became enriched. Nothing of this kind is, however, likely to take place so long as the Virginian shall continue of the opinion that the way to wealth lies in the direction of taking every thing from the land and returning nothing to it--nor, perhaps, so long as the people of England shall continue in the determination that there shall be but one workshop in the world, and carry that determination into effect by "keeping labour down," in accordance with the advice of Mr. Huskisson. The tendency to the abandonment of the older States is now probably greater than it has ever been, because their people have ceased to build mills or furnaces, and every thing looks to a yet more perfect exhaustion of the soil. The more they abandon the land the greater is the anxiety to make loans in England for the purpose of building roads; and the more numerous the loans the more rapid is the flight, and the greater the number of negroes brought to market. A North Carolina paper informs its readers that-- "The trading spirit is fully up. A few days since Mr. D. W. Bullock sold to Messrs. Wm. Norfleet, Robert Norfleet, and John S. Dancy, plantation and 18 negroes for $30,000. Mr. R. R. Bridges to Wm. F. Dancy, 6 acres near town for $600. At a sale in Wilson, we also understand, negro men with no extra qualifications sold as high as $1225."--_Tarborough Southerner_. A South Carolina editor informs his readers that "At public auction on Thursday, Thomas Ryan & Son sold fifteen likely negroes for $10,365, or an average of $691. Three boys, aged about seventeen, brought the following sums, viz. $1065, $1035, $1010, and two at $1000--making an average of $1022. Capers Heyward sold a gang of 109 negroes in families. Two or three families averaged from $1000 to $1100 for each individual; and the entire sale averaged $550. C. G. Whitney sold two likely female house servants--one at $1000, the other at $1190."--_Charleston Courier_. Limited, as the people of the old States are more and more becoming, to the raising of "stock" as the sole source of profit, need we be surprised to see the pro-slavery feeling gaining ground from day to day, as is here shown to be the case? REMOVAL OF FREE PERSONS OF COLOUR FROM VIRGINIA.--A bill has been reported in the Virginia House of Delegates which provides for the appointment of overseers, who are to be required to hire out, at public auction, all free persons of colour, to the highest bidder, and to pay into the State Treasury the sums accruing from such hire. The sums are to be devoted in future to sending free persons of colour beyond the limits of the State. At the expiration of five years, all free persons of colour remaining in the State are to be sold into slavery to the highest bidder, at public auction, the proceeds of such sales to be paid into the public treasury, provided that said free persons of colour shall be allowed the privilege of becoming the slaves of any free white person whom they may select, on the payment by such person of a fair price. Twenty years since, Virginia was preparing for the emancipation of the slave. Now, she is preparing for the enslavement of the free. If the reader would know the cause of this great change, he may find it in the fact that man has everywhere become less free as land has become less valuable. Upon whom, now, must rest the responsibility for such a state of things as is here exhibited? Upon the planter? He exercises no volition. He is surrounded by coal and iron ore, but the attempt to convert them into iron has almost invariably been followed by ruin. He has vast powers of nature ready to obey his will, yet dare he not purchase a spindle or a loom to enable him to bring into use his now waste labour power, for such attempts at bringing the consumer to the side of the producer have almost invariably ended in the impoverishment of the projector, and the sale and dispersion of his labourers. He is compelled to conform his operations to the policy which looks to having but one workshop for the world; and instead of civilizing his negroes by bringing them to work in combination, he must barbarize them by dispersion. A creature of necessity, he cannot be held responsible; but the responsibility must, and will, rest on those who produce that necessity. The less the power of association in the Northern slave States, the more rapid must be the growth of the domestic slave trade, the greater must be the decline in the price of wheat, cotton, and sugar, the greater must be the tendency to the passage of men like Uncle Tom, and of women and children too, from the light labour of the North to the severe labour of the South and South-west--but, the greater, as we are told, must be the prosperity of the people of England. It is unfortunate for the world that a country exercising so much influence should have adopted a policy so adverse to the civilization and the freedom not only of the negro race, but of mankind at large. There seems, however, little probability of a change. Seeking to make of herself a great workshop, she necessarily desires that all the rest of the world should be one great farm, to be cultivated by men, women, and children, denied all other means of employment. This, of course, forbids association, which diminishes as land becomes exhausted. The absence of association forbids the existence of schools or workshops, books or instruction, and men become barbarized, when, under a different system, they might and would become civilized. The tendency to freedom passes away, as we see to have been the case in the last twenty years--but in place of freedom, and as a compensation for the horrors of Jamaica and of the domestic slave trade, the great workshop of the world is supplied with cheap grain, cheap tobacco, cheap sugar, and cheap cotton. Were Adam Smith alive, he might, and probably would, take some trouble to inform his countrymen that a system which looked to the exhaustion of the land of other countries, and the enslavement of their population, was "a manifest violation of the most sacred rights of mankind;" but since his day the doctrines of the "Wealth of Nations" have been discarded, and its author would find himself now addressing hearers more unwilling than were even the men for whom he wrote eighty years since. At that time the imaginary discovery had not been made that men always commenced on the rich soils, and passed, as population and wealth increased, to poorer ones; and the Malthusian law of population was yet unthought of. Now, however, whatever tends to limit the growth of population is, we are told, to be regarded as a great good; and as the domestic slave trade accomplishes that object at the same time that it furnishes cheap cotton, it can scarcely be expected that there will be any change; and yet, unless a change be somewhere made, abroad or at home, we must perforce submit to the continuance of the existing system, which precludes education, almost eschews matrimony, separates husbands and wives, parents and children, and sends the women to the labours of the field. CHAPTER XI. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN PORTUGAL AND TURKEY. In point of natural advantages, PORTUGAL is equal with any country in Western Europe. Her soil is capable of yielding largely of every description of grain, and her climate enables her to cultivate the vine and the olive. Mineral riches abound, and her rivers give to a large portion, of the country every facility for cheap intercourse; and yet her people are among the most enslaved, while her government is the weakest and most contemptible of Europe. It is now a century and a half since England granted her what were deemed highly important advantages in regard to wine, on condition that she should discard the artisans who had been brought to the side of her farmers, and permit the people of England to supply her people with certain descriptions of manufactures. What were the duties then agreed on are not given in any of the books now at hand, but by the provisions of a treaty made in 1810, cloths of all descriptions were to be admitted at a merely revenue duty, varying from ten to fifteen per cent. A natural consequence of this system has been that the manufactures which up to the date of the Methuen treaty had risen in that country, perished under foreign competition, and the people found themselves by degrees limited exclusively to agricultural employments. Mechanics found there no place for the exercise of their talents, towns could not grow, schools could not arise, and the result is seen in the following paragraph:-- "It is surprising how ignorant, or at least superficially acquainted, the Portuguese are with every kind of handicraft; a carpenter is awkward and clumsy, spoiling every work he attempts, and the way in which the doors and woodwork even of good houses are finished would have suited the rudest ages. Their carriages of all kinds, from the fidalgo's family coach to the peasant's market cart, their agricultural implements, locks and keys, &c. are ludicrously bad. They seem to disdain improvement, and are so infinitely below par, so strikingly inferior to the rest of Europe, as to form a sort of disgraceful wonder in the middle of the nineteenth century."--_Baillie_. The population, which, half a century since was 3,683,000, is now reduced to little more than 3,000,000; and we need no better evidence of the enslaving and exhausting tendency of a policy that limits a whole people, men, women, and children, to the labours of the field. At the close almost of a century and a half of this system, the following is given in a work of high reputation, as a correct picture of the state of the country and the strength of the government:-- "The finances of Portugal are in the most deplorable condition, the treasury is dry, and all branches of the public service suffer. A carelessness and a mutual apathy reign not only throughout the government, but also throughout the nation. While improvement is sought everywhere else throughout Europe, Portugal remains stationary. The postal service of the country offers a curious example of this, nineteen to twenty-one days being still required for a letter to go and come between Lisbon and Braganza, a distance of 423-1/2 kilometres, (or little over 300 miles.) All the resources of the state are exhausted, and it is probable that the receipts will not give one-third of the amount for which they figure in the budget."--_Annuaire de l'Economie Politique_, 1849, 322. Some years since an effort was made to bring the artisan to the side of the farmer and vine-grower, but a century and a half of exclusive devotion to agriculture had placed the people so far in the rear of those of other nations, that the attempt was hopeless, the country having long since become a mere colony of Great Britain. If we turn to Madeira, we find there further evidence of the exhausting consequences of the separation of the farmer and the artisan. From 1886 to 1842, the only period for which returns are before me, there was a steady decline in the amount of agricultural production, until the diminution had reached about thirty per cent., as follows:-- Wine. Wheat. Barley. ----- ------ ------- 1836............. 27,270 pipes 8472 qrs. 3510 1842............. 16,131 " 6863 " 2777 At this moment the public papers furnish an "Appeal to America," commencing as follows:-- "A calamity has fallen on Madeira unparalleled in its history. The vintage, the revenue of which furnished the chief means for providing subsistence for its inhabitants, has been a total failure, and the potato crop, formerly another important article of their food, is still extensively diseased. All classes, therefore, are suffering, and as there are few sources in the island to which they can look for food, clothing, and other necessaries of life, their distress must increase during the winter, and the future is contemplated with painful anxiety and apprehension. Under such appalling prospects, the zealous and excellent civil Governor, Snr. José Silvestre Ribeiro, addressed a circular letter to the merchants of Madeira on the 24th of August last, for the purpose of bringing the unfortunate and critical position of the population under his government to the notice of the benevolent and charitable classes in foreign countries, and in the hope of exciting their sympathy with, and assistance to, so many of their fellow creatures threatened with famine." Such are the necessary consequences of a system which looks to compelling the whole population of a country to employ themselves in a single pursuit--all cultivating the land and all producing the same commodity; and which thus effectually prevents the growth of that natural association so much admired by Adam Smith. It is one that can end only in the exhaustion of the land and its owner. When population increases and men come together, even the poor land is made rich, and thus it is, says M. de Jonnes, that "the powers of manure causes the poor lands of the department of the Seine to yield thrice as much as those of the Loire."[49] When population diminishes, and men are thus forced to live at greater distances from each other, even the rich lands become impoverished; and of this no better evidence need be sought than that furnished by Portugal. In the one case, each day brings men nearer to perfect freedom of thought, speech, action, and trade. In the other they become from day to day more barbarized and enslaved, and the women are more and more driven to the field, there to become the slaves of fathers, husbands, brothers, and even of sons. Of all the countries of Europe there is none possessed of natural advantages to enable it to compare with those constituting the TURKISH EMPIRE in Europe and Asia. Wool and silk, corn, oil, and tobacco, might, with proper cultivation, be produced in almost unlimited quantity, while Thessaly and Macedonia, long celebrated for the production of cotton, abound in lands uncultivated, from which it might be obtained in sufficient extent to clothe a large portion of Europe. Iron ore abounds, and in quality equal to any in the world, while in another part of the empire "the hills seem a mass of carbonate of copper."[50] Nature has done every thing for the people of that country, and yet of all those of Europe, the Turkish rayah approaches in condition nearest to a slave; and of all the governments of Europe, that of Portugal even not excepted, that of Turkey is the most a slave to the dictation, not only of nations, but even of bankers and traders. Why it is so, we may now inquire. By the terms of the treaty with England in 1675, the Turkish government bound itself to charge no more than three per cent. duty on imports,[51] and as this could contribute little to the revenue, that required to be sought elsewhere. A poll-tax, house-tax, land-tax, and many other direct taxes, furnished a part of it, and the balance was obtained by an indirect tax in the form of export duties; and as the corn, tobacco, and cotton of its people were obliged to compete in the general markets of the world with the produce of other lands, it is clear that these duties constituted a further contribution from the cultivators of the empire in aid of the various direct taxes that have been mentioned. So far as foreigners were interested, the system was one of perfect free trade and direct taxation. For many years, Turkey manufactured much of her cotton, and she exported cotton-yarn. Such was the case so recently as 1798, as will be seen by the following very interesting account of one of the seats of the manufacture:-- "'Ambelakia, by its activity, appears rather a borough of Holland than a village of Turkey. This village spreads, by its industry, movement, and life, over the surrounding country, and gives birth to an immense commerce which unites Germany to Greece by a thousand threads. Its population has trebled in fifteen years, and amounts at present (1798) to four thousand, who live in their manufactories like swarms of bees in their hives. In this village are unknown both the vices and cares engendered by idleness; the hearts of the Ambelakiots are pure and their faces serene; the slavery which blasts the plains watered by the Peneus, and stretching at their feet, has never ascended the sides of Pelion (Ossa;) and they govern themselves, like their ancestors, by their protoyeros, (primates, elders,) and their own magistrates. Twice the Mussulmen of Larissa attempted to scale their rocks, and twice were they repulsed by hands which dropped the shuttle to seize the musket. "'Every arm, even those of the children, is employed in the factories; while the men dye the cotton, the women prepare and spin it. There are twenty-four factories, in which yearly two thousand five hundred bales of cotton yarn, of one hundred cotton okes each, were dyed (6138 cwts.) This yarn found its way into Germany, and was disposed of at Buda, Vienna, Leipsic, Dresden, Anspach, and Bareuth. The Ambelakiot merchants had houses of their own in all these places. These houses belonged to distinct associations at Ambelakia. The competition thus established reduced very considerably the common profits; they proposed therefore to unite themselves under one central commercial administration. Twenty years ago this plan was suggested, and in a year afterward it was carried into execution. The lowest shares in this joint-stock company were five thousand piastres, (between £600 and £700,) and the highest were restricted to twenty thousand, that the capitalists might not swallow up all the profits. The workmen subscribed their little profits, and uniting in societies, purchased single shares; and besides their capital, their labour was reckoned in the general amount; they received their share of the profits accordingly, and abundance was soon spread through the whole community. The dividends were at first restricted to ten per cent., and the surplus profit was applied to the augmenting of the capital; which in two years was raised from 600,000 to 1,000,000 piastres, (£120,000.)' "It supplied industrious Germany, not by the perfection of its jennies, but by the industry of its spindle and distaff. It taught Montpellier the art of dyeing, not from experimental chairs, but because dyeing was with it a domestic and culinary operation, subject to daily observation in every kitchen; and by the simplicity and honesty, not the science of its system, it reads a lesson to commercial associations, and holds up an example unparalleled in the commercial history of Europe, of a joint-stock and labour company; ably and economically and successfully administered, in which the interests of industry and capital were, long equally represented. Yet the system of administration with which all this is connected, is common to the thousand hamlets of Thessaly that have not emerged from their insignificance; but Ambelakia for twenty years was left alone."[52] At that time, however, England had invented new machinery for spinning cotton, and, by prohibiting its export, had provided that all the cotton of the world should be brought to Manchester before it could be cheaply converted into cloth. The cotton manufacturers at Ambelakia had their difficulties to encounter, but all those might have been overcome had they not, says Mr. Urquhart, "been outstripped by Manchester." They _were_ outstripped, and twenty years afterward, not only had that place been deserted, but others in its neighbourhood were reduced to complete desolation. Native manufactories for the production of cotton goods had, indeed, almost ceased to work. Of 600 looms at Sentari in 1812, but 40 remained in 1821; and of the 2000 weaving establishments at Tournovo in 1812, but 200 remained in 1830.[53] For a time, cotton went abroad to be returned in the form of twist, thus making a voyage of thousands of miles in search of a spindle; but even this trade has in a great degree passed away. As a consequence of these things there had been a ruinous fall of wages, affecting all classes of labourers. "The profits," says Mr. Urquhart-- "Have been reduced to one-half, and sometimes to one-third, by the introduction of English cottons, which, though they have reduced the home price, and arrested the export of cotton-yarn from Turkey, have not yet supplanted the home manufacture in any visible degree; for, until tranquillity has allowed agriculture to revive, the people must go on working merely for bread, and reducing their price, in a struggle of hopeless competition. The industry, however, of the women and children is most remarkable; in every interval of labour, tending the cattle, carrying water, the spindle and distaff, as in the days of Xerxes, is never out of their hands. The children are as assiduously at work, from the moment their little fingers, can turn the spindle. About Ambelakia, the former focus of the cotton-yarn trade, the peasantry has suffered dreadfully from this, though formerly the women could earn as much in-doors, as their husbands in the field; at present, their daily profit (1881) does not exceed twenty paras, if realized, for often they cannot dispose of the yarn when spun. Piastres. Paras. --------- ------ Five okes of uncleaned cotton, at seventeen paras.......................... 2 5 Labour of a woman for two days, (seven farthings per day)................... 0 35 Carding, by vibrations of a cat-gut........... 0 10 Spinning, a woman's unremitting labour for a week.................................. 5 30 Loss of cotton, exceeding an oke of uncleaned cotton......................... 0 20 -------- ------ Value of one oke of uncleaned cotton.... Prs. 9 00 "Here a woman's labour makes but 2d. per day, while field-labour, according to the season of the year, ranges from 4d. to 6d. and at this rate, the pound of coarse cotton-yarn cost in spinning 5d."--P. 147. The labour of a woman is estimated at less than four cents per day, and "the unremitting labour of a week" will command but twenty-five cents. The wages of men employed in gathering leaves and attending silkworms are stated at one piastre (five cents) per day. At Salonica, the shipping port of Thessaly, they were ten cents. (Urquhart, 268.) As a necessary consequence of this, population diminishes, and everywhere are seen the ruins of once prosperous villages. Agriculture declines from day to day. The once productive cotton-fields of Thessaly lie untilled, and even around Constantinople itself-- "There are no cultivated lands to speak of within twenty miles, in some directions within fifty miles. The commonest necessaries of life come from distant parts: the corn for daily bread from Odessa; the cattle and sheep from beyond Adrianople, or from Asia Minor; the rice, of which such a vast consumption is made, from the neighbourhood of Phillippopolis; the poultry chiefly from Bulgaria; the fruit and vegetables from Nicomedia and Mondania. Thus a constant drain of money is occasioned, without any visible return except to the treasury or from the property of the Ulema."--_Slade's Travels in Turkey_, vol. ii. 143. The silk that is made is badly prepared, because the distance of the artisan prevents the poor people from obtaining good machinery; and as a consequence of this, the former direct trade with Persia has been superseded by an indirect one through England, to which the raw silk has now to be sent. In every department of industry we see the same result. Birmingham has superseded Damascus, whose blades are now no longer made. Not only is the foreigner free to introduce his wares, but he may, on payment of a trifling duty of two per cent., carry them throughout the empire until finally disposed of. He travels by caravans, and is lodged without expense. He brings his goods to be exchanged for money, or what else he needs, and the exchange effected, he disappears as suddenly as he came. "It is impossible," says Mr. Urquhart, "to witness the arrival of the many-tongued caravan at its resting-place for the night, and see, unladen and piled up together, the bales from such distant places--to glance over their very wrappers, and the strange marks and characters which they bear--without being amazed at so eloquent a contradiction of our preconceived notions of indiscriminate despotism and universal insecurity of the East. But while we observe the avidity with which our goods are sought, the preference now transferred from Indian to Birmingham muslins, from Golconda to Glasgow chintzes, from Damascus to Sheffield steel, from Cashmere shawls to English broadcloth; and while, at the same time, the energies of their commercial spirit are brought thus substantially before us; it is indeed impossible not to regret that a gulf of separation should have so long divided the East and the West, and equally impossible not to indulge in the hope and anticipation of a vastly extended traffic with the East, and of all the blessings which follow fast and welling in the wake of commerce."--P. 133. Among the "blessings" of the system is the fact that local places of exchange no longer exist. The storekeeper who pays rent and taxes has found himself unable to compete with the pedler who pays neither; and the consequence is that the poor cultivator finds it impossible to exchange his products, small as they are, for the commodities he needs, except, on the occasional arrival of a caravan, and that has generally proved far more likely to absorb the little money in circulation, than any of the more bulky and less valuable products of the earth. As usual in purely agricultural countries, the whole body of cultivators is hopelessly in debt, and the money-lender fleeces all. If he aids the peasant before harvest, he must have an enormous interest, and be paid in produce at a large discount from the market price; The village communities are almost universally in debt, but to them, as the security is good, the banker charges _only_ twenty per cent. per annum. Turkey is the very paradise of middlemen--a consequence of the absence of any mode of employment except in cultivation or in trade; and the moral effect of this may be seen in the following passage:-- "If you see," says Urquhart, "a Turk meditating in a corner, it is on some speculation--the purchase of a revenue farm, or the propriety of a loan at sixty per cent.; if you see pen or paper in his hand, it is making or checking an account; if there is a disturbance in the street, it is a disputed barter; whether in the streets or in-doors, whether in a coffeehouse, a serai, or a bazaar, whatever the rank, nation, language of the persons around you, traffic, barter, gain are the prevailing impulses; grusch, para, florin, lira, asper, amid the Babel of tongues, are the universally intelligible sounds."--P. 138. We have thus a whole people divided into two classes--the plunderers and the plundered; and the cause of this may be found in the fact that the owners and occupants of land have never been permitted to strengthen themselves by the formation of that natural alliance between the plough and the loom, the hammer and the harrow, so much admired by Adam Smith. The government is as weak as the people, for it is so entirely dependent on the bankers, that they may be regarded as the real owners of the land and the people, taxing them at discretion; and to them certainly enure all the profits of cultivation. As a consequence of this, the land is almost valueless. A recent traveller states that good land maybe purchased in the immediate vicinity of Smyrna at six cents an acre, and at a little distance vast quantities may be had for nothing. Throughout the world, the freedom of man has grown in the ratio of the increase in the value of land, and that has always grown in the ratio of the tendency to have the artisan take his place by the side of the cultivator of the earth. Whatever tends to prevent this natural association tends, therefore, to the debasement and enslavement of man. The weakness of Turkey, as regards foreign nations, is great, and it increases every day.[54] Not only ambassadors, but consuls, beard it in its own cities; and it is now even denied that she has _any right_ to adopt a system of trade different from that under which she has become thus weakened. Perfect freedom of commerce is declared to be "one of those immunities which we can resign on no account or pretext whatever; it is a golden privilege, which we can never abandon."[55] Internal trade scarcely exists; and, as a natural consequence, the foreign one is insignificant, the whole value of the exports being but about thirty-three millions of dollars, or less than two dollars per head. The total exports from Great Britain in the last year amounted to but £2,221,000, ($11,500,000,) much of which was simply _en route_ for Persia; and this constitutes the great trade that has been built up at so much cost to the people of Turkey, and that is to be maintained as "a golden privilege" not to be abandoned! Not discouraged by the result of past efforts, the same author looks forward anxiously for the time when there shall be in Turkey no employment in manufactures of any kind, and when the people shall be exclusively employed in agriculture; and that time cannot, he thinks, be far distant, as "a few pence more or less in the price of a commodity will make the difference of purchasing or manufacturing at home."[56] Throughout his book he shows that the rudeness of the machinery of cultivation is in the direct ratio of the distance of the cultivator from market; and yet he would desire that all the produce of the country should go to a distant market to be exchanged, although the whole import of iron at the present moment for the supply of a population of almost twenty millions of people, possessing iron ore, fuel, and unemployed labour in unlimited quantity, is but £2500 per annum, or about a penny's worth for every thirty persons! Need we wonder at the character of the machinery, the poverty and slavery of the people, the trivial amount of commerce, or at the weakness of a government whose whole system looks to the exhaustion of the land, and to the exclusion of that great middle class of working-men, to whom the agriculturist has everywhere been indebted for his freedom? The facts thus far given have been taken, as the reader will have observed, from Mr. Urquhart's work; and as that gentleman is a warm admirer of the system denounced by Adam Smith, he cannot be suspected of any exaggeration when presenting any of its unfavourable results. Later travellers exhibit the nation as passing steadily onward toward ruin, and the people toward a state of slavery the most, complete--the necessary consequence of a policy that excludes the mechanic and prevents the formation of a town population. Among the latest of those travellers is Mr. Mac Farlane,[57] at the date of whose visit the silk manufacture had entirely disappeared, and even the filatures for preparing the raw silk were closed, weavers having become ploughmen, and women and children having been totally deprived of employment. The cultivators of silk had become entirely dependent on foreign markets in which there existed no demand for the products of their land and labour. England was then passing through one of her periodical crises, and it had been deemed necessary to put down the prices of all agricultural products, with a view to stop importation. On one occasion, during Mr. Mac Farlane's travels, there came a report that silk had risen in England, and it produced a momentary stir and animation, that, as he says, "flattered his national vanity to think that an electric touch parting from London, the mighty heart of commerce, should thus be felt in a few days at a place like Biljek." Such is commercial centralization! It renders the agriculturists of the world mere slaves, dependent for food and clothing upon the will of a few people, proprietors of a small amount of machinery, at "the mighty heart of commerce." At one moment speculation is rife, and silk goes up in price, and then every effort is made to induce large shipments of the raw produce of the world. At the next, money is said to be scarce, and the shippers are ruined, as was, to so great an extent, experienced by those who exported corn from this country in 1847. At the date of the traveller's first visit to Broussa, the villages were numerous, and the silk manufacture was prosperous. At the second, the silk works were stopped and their owners bankrupt, the villages were gradually disappearing, and in the town itself scarcely a chimney was left, while the country around presented to view nothing but poverty and wretchedness. Everywhere, throughout the empire, the roads are bad, and becoming worse, and the condition of the cultivator deteriorates; for if he has a surplus to sell, most of its value at market is absorbed by the cost of transportation, and if his crop is short, prices rise so high that he cannot purchase. Famines are therefore frequent, and child-murder prevails throughout all classes of society. Population therefore diminishes, and the best lands are abandoned, "nine-tenths" of them remaining untilled;[58] the natural consequence of which is, that malaria prevails in many of those parts of the country that once were most productive, and pestilence comes in aid of famine for the extermination of this unfortunate people. Native mechanics are nowhere to be found, there being no demand for them, and the plough, the wine-press, and the oil-mill are equally rude and barbarous. The product of labour is, consequently, most diminutive, and its wages twopence a day, with a little food. The interest of money varies from 25 to 50 per cent. per annum, and this rate is frequently paid for the loan of bad seed that yields but little to either land or labour. With the decline of population and the disappearance of all the local places of exchange, the pressure of the conscription becomes from year to year more severe, and droves of men may be seen "chained like wild beasts--free Osmanlees driven along the road like slaves to a market"--free men, separated from wives and children, who are left to perish of starvation amid the richest lands, that remain untilled because of the separation of the artisan from the producer of food, silk, and cotton. Internal commerce is trifling in amount, and the power to pay for foreign merchandise has almost passed away. Land is nearly valueless; and in this we find the most convincing proof of the daily increasing tendency toward slavery, man having always become enslaved as land has lost its value. In the great valley of Buyuk-derè, once known as _the fair land_, a property of twenty miles in circumference had shortly before his visit been purchased for less than £1000, or $4800.[59] In another part of the country, one of twelve miles in circumference had been purchased for a considerably smaller sum.[60] The slave trade, black and white, had never been more active;[61] and this was a necessary consequence of the decline in the value of labour and land. In this country, negro men are well fed, clothed, and lodged, and are gradually advancing toward freedom. Population therefore increases, although more slowly than would be the case were they enabled more to combine their efforts for the improvement of their condition. In the West Indies, Portugal, and Turkey, being neither well fed, clothed, nor lodged, their condition declines; and as they can neither be bought nor sold, they are allowed to die off, and population diminishes as the tendency toward the subjugation of the labourer becomes more and more complete. Which of these conditions tends most to favour advance in civilization the reader may decide. CHAPTER XII. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN INDIA. In no part of the world has there existed the same tendency to voluntary association, the distinguishing mark of freedom, as in India. In none have the smaller communities been to the same extent permitted the exercise of self-government. Each Hindoo village had its distinct organization, and under its simple and "almost patriarchal arrangements," says Mr. Greig,[62]-- "The natives of Hindoostan seem to have lived from the earliest, down, comparatively speaking, to late times--if not free from the troubles and annoyances to which men in all conditions of society are more or less subject, still in the full enjoyment, each individual, of his property, and of a very considerable share of personal liberty. * * * Leave him in possession of the farm which his forefathers owned, and preserve entire the institutions to which he had from infancy been accustomed, and the simple Hindoo would give himself no concern whatever as to the intrigues and cabals which took place at the capital. Dynasties might displace one another; revolutions might recur; and the persons of his sovereigns might change every day; but so long as his own little society remained undisturbed, all other contingencies were to him subjects scarcely of speculation. To this, indeed, more than to any other cause, is to be ascribed the facility with which one conqueror after another has overrun different parts of India; which submitted, not so much because its inhabitants were wanting in courage, as because to the great majority among them it signified nothing by whom the reins of the supreme government were held. A third consequence of the village system has been one which men will naturally regard as advantageous or the reverse, according to the opinions which they hold, touching certain abstract points into which it is not necessary to enter here. Perhaps there are not to be found on the face of the earth, a race of human beings whose attachment to their native place will bear a comparison with that of the Hindoos. There are no privations which the Hindoo will hesitate to bear, rather than voluntarily abandon the spot where he was born; and if continued oppression drive him forth, he will return to it again after long years of exile with fresh fondness." The Mohammedan conquest left these simple and beautiful institutions untouched. "Each Hindoo village," says Col. Briggs, in his work on the land tax-- "Had its distinct municipality, and over a certain number of villages, or district, was an hereditary chief and accountant, both possessing great local influence and authority, and certain territorial domains or estates. The Mohammedans early saw the policy of not disturbing an institution so complete, and they availed themselves of the local influence of these officers to reconcile their subjects to their rule. * * * From the existence of these local Hindoo chiefs at the end of six centuries in all countries conquered by the Mohammedans, it is fair to conclude that they were cherished and maintained with great attention as the key-stone of their civil government. While the administration of the police, and the collection of the revenues, were left in the hands of these local chiefs, every part of the new territory was retained under military occupation by an officer of rank; and a considerable body of Mohammedan soldiers.* * * In examining the details of Mohammedan history, which has been minute in recording the rise and progress of all these kingdoms, we nowhere discover any attempt to alter the system originally adopted. The ministers, the nobles, and the military chiefs, all bear Mohammedan names and titles, but no account is given of the Hindoo institutions, being subverted, or Mohammedan officers, being employed in the minor, details, of the civil administration. "It would appear from this that the Moslems, so far from imposing their own laws upon their subjects, treated the customs of the latter with the utmost respect; and that they did so because experience taught them that their own interests were advanced by a line of policy so prudent." Local action and local combination are everywhere conspicuous in the history of this country. With numerous rulers, some of whom to a greater or less extent acknowledged the superiority of the Sovereign of Delhi, the taxes required for their support were heavy, but they were locally expended, and if the cultivator contributed too large a portion of his grain, it was at least consumed in a neighbouring market, and nothing went from off the land. Manufactures, too, were widely spread, and thus was made a demand for the labour not required in agriculture. "On the coast of Coromandel," says Orme,[63] "and in the province of Bengal, when at some distance from a high road or principal town, it is difficult to find a village in which every man, woman, and child is not employed in making a piece of cloth. At present," he continues, "much the greatest part of whole provinces are employed in this single manufacture." Its progress, as he says, "includes no less than a description of the lives of half the inhabitants of Indostan." While employment was thus locally subdivided, tending to enable neighbour to exchange with neighbour, the exchanges between the producers of food, or of salt, in one part of the country and the producers of cotton and manufacturers of cloth in another, tended to the production of commerce with more distant men, and this tendency was much increased by the subdivision of the cotton manufacture itself. Bengal was celebrated for the finest muslins, the consumption of which at Delhi, and in Northern India generally, was large, while the Coromandel coast was equally celebrated for the best chintzes and calicoes, leaving to Western India the manufacture of strong and inferior goods of every kind. Under these circumstances it is no matter of surprise that the country was rich, and that its people, although often overtaxed, and sometimes plundered by invading armies, were prosperous in a high degree. Nearly a century has now elapsed since, by the battle of Plassey, British power was established in India, and from that day local action has tended to disappear, and centralization to take its place. From its date to the close of the century there was a rapidly increasing tendency toward having all the affairs of the princes and the people settled by the representatives of the Company established in Calcutta, and as usual in such cases, the country was filled with adventurers, very many of whom were wholly without principle, men whose sole object was that of the accumulation of fortune by any means, however foul, as is well known by all who are familiar with the indignant denunciations of Burke.[64] England was thus enriched as India was impoverished, and as centralization was more and more established. Step by step the power of the Company was extended, and everywhere was adopted the Hindoo principle that the sovereign was proprietor of the soil, and sole landlord, and as such the government claimed to be entitled to one-half of the gross produce of the land. "Wherever," says Mr. Rickards, long an eminent servant of the Company, "The British power supplanted that of the Mohammedans in Bengal, we did not, it is true, adopt the sanguinary part of their creed; but from the impure fountain of their financial system, did we, to our shame, claim the inheritance to a right to seize upon half the gross produce of the land as a tax; and wherever our arms have triumphed, we have invariably proclaimed this savage right: coupling it at the same time with the senseless doctrine of the proprietary right to these lands being also vested in the sovereign, in virtue of the right of conquest."--_Rickards's India_, vol. i, 275. Under the earlier Mohammedan sovereigns, this land-tax, now designated as rent, had been limited to a thirteenth, and from that to a sixth of the produce of the land; but in the reign of Akber (16th century) it was fixed at one-third, numerous other taxes being at the same time abolished. With the decline and gradual dissolution of the empire, the local sovereigns not only increased it, but revived the taxes that had been discontinued, and instituted others of a most oppressive kind; all of which were continued by the Company, while the land-tax was maintained at its largest amount. While thus imposing taxes at discretion, the Company had also a monopoly of trade, and it could dictate the prices of all it had to sell, as well as of all that it needed to buy; and here was a further and most oppressive tax, all of which was for the benefit of absentee landlords. With the further extension of power, the demands on the Company's treasury increased without an increase of the power to meet them; for exhaustion is a natural consequence of absenteeism, or centralization, as has so well been proved in Ireland. The people became less able to pay the taxes, and as the government could not be carried on without revenue, a permanent settlement was made by Lord Cornwallis, by means of which all the rights of village proprietors, over a large portion of Bengal, were sacrificed in favour of the Zemindars, who were thus at once constituted great landed proprietors and absolute masters of a host of poor tenants, with power to punish at discretion those who were so unfortunate as not to be able to pay a rent the amount of which had no limit but that of the power to extort it. It was the middleman system of Ireland transplanted to India; but the results were at first unfavourable to the Zemindars, as the rents, for which they themselves were responsible to the government, were so enormous that all the rack-renting and all the flogging inflicted upon the poor cultivators could not enable them to pay; and but few years elapsed before the Zemindars themselves were sold out to make way for another set as keen and as hard-hearted as themselves. That system having failed to answer the purpose, it was next determined to arrest the extension of the permanent settlement, and to settle with each little ryot, or cultivator, to the entire exclusion of the village authorities, by whom, under the native governments, the taxes had uniformly been so equitably and satisfactorily distributed. The Ryotwar system was thus established, and how it has operated may be judged from the following sketch, presented by Mr. Fullerton, a member of the Council at Madras:-- "Imagine the revenue leviable through the agency of one hundred thousand revenue officers, collected or remitted at their discretion, according to the occupant's means of paying, whether from the produce of his land or his separate property; and in order to encourage every man to act as a spy on his neighbour, and report his means of paying, that he may eventually save himself from extra demand, imagine all the cultivators of a village liable at all times to a separate demand in order to make up for the failure of one or more individuals of the parish. Imagine collectors to every county, acting under the orders of a board, on the avowed principle of destroying all competition for labour by a general equalization of assessment, seizing and sending back runaways to each other. And, lastly, imagine the collector the sole magistrate or justice of the peace of the county, through the medium and instrumentality of whom alone any criminal complaint of personal grievance suffered by the subject can reach the superior courts. Imagine, at the same time, every subordinate officer employed in the collection of the land revenue to be a police officer, vested with the power to fine, confine, put in the stocks, and flog any inhabitant within his range, on any charge, without oath of the accuser, or sworn recorded evidence of the case."[65] Any improvement in cultivation produced an immediate increase of taxation, so that any exertion on the part of the cultivator would benefit the Company, and not himself. One-half of the gross produce [66] may be assumed to have been the average annual rent, although, in many cases it greatly exceeded that proportion. The Madras Revenue Board, May 17th, 1817, stated that the "conversion of the government share of the produce (of lands) is in some districts, as high as 60 or 70 per cent. of the whole."[67] It might be supposed that, having taken so large a share of the gross produce, the cultivator would be permitted to exist on the remainder, but such is not the case. Mr. Rickards gives [68] a list of sixty other taxes, invented by the sovereigns, or their agents, many of which he states to exist at the present day. Those who have any other mode of employing either capital or labour, in addition to the cultivation of their patches of land, as is very frequently the case, are subject to the following taxes, the principle of which is described as _excellent_ by one of the collectors, December 1st, 1812:-- "The Veesabuddy, or tax on merchants, traders, and shopkeepers; Mohturfa, or tax on weavers, cotton cleaners, shepherds, goldsmiths, braziers, ironsmiths, carpenters, stone-cutters, &c.; and Bazeebab, consisting of smaller taxes annually rented out to the highest-bidder. The renter was thus constituted a petty chieftain, with power to exact fees at marriages, religious ceremonies; to inquire into and fine the misconduct of females in families, and other misdemeanours; and in the exercise of their privileges would often urge the plea of engagements to the Cirkar (government) to justify extortion. The details of these taxes are too long to be given in this place. The reader, however, may judge of the operation and character of all by the following selection of one, as described in the collector's report:--'The mode of settling the Mohturfa on looms hitherto has been very minute; every circumstance of the weaver's family is considered, the number of days which he devotes to his loom, the number of his children, the assistance which he receives from them, and the number and quality of the pieces which he can turn out in a month or year; so that, let him exert himself as he will, his industry will always be taxed to the highest degree.' This mode always leads to such details that the government servants cannot enter into it, and the assessment of the tax is, in consequence, left a great deal too much to the Curnums of the villages. No weaver can possibly know what he is to pay to the Cirkar, till the demand come to be made for his having exerted himself through the year; and having turned out one or two pieces of cloth more than he did the year before, though his family and looms have been the same, is made the ground for his being charged a higher Mohturfa, and at last, instead of a professional, it becomes a real income tax."[69] The following will show that no mode of employing capital is allowed to escape the notice of the tax-gatherer:-- "The reader will, perhaps, better judge of the inquisitorial nature of one of these surveys, or pymashees, as they are termed in Malabar, by knowing that upward of seventy different kinds of buildings--the houses, shops, or warehouses of different castes and professions--were ordered to be entered in the survey accounts; besides the following 'implements of professions' which were usually assessed to the public revenue, viz.: "Oil-mills, iron manufactory, toddy-drawer's stills, potter's kiln, washerman's stone, goldsmith's tools, sawyer's saw, toddy-drawer's knives, fishing-nets, barber's hones, blacksmith's anvils, pack bullocks, cocoa-nut safe, small fishing-boats, cotton-beater's bow, carpenter's tools, large fishing-boats, looms, salt storehouse."[70] "If the landlord objected to the assessment on trees as old and past bearing, they were, one and all, ordered to be cut down, nothing being allowed to stand that did not pay revenue to the state. To judge of this order, it should be mentioned that the trees are valuable, and commonly used for building, in Malabar. To fell all the timber on a man's estate when no demand existed for it in the market, and merely because its stream of revenue had been drained, is an odd way of conferring benefits and protecting property."[71] "Having myself," says Mr. Rickards, "been principal collector of Malabar, and made, during my residence in the province, minute inquiries into the produce and assessments of lands, I was enabled to ascertain beyond all doubt, and to satisfy the revenue board at Madras, that in the former survey of the province, which led to the rebellion, lands and produce were inserted in the pretended survey account which absolutely did not exist, while other lands were assessed to the revenue at more than their actual produce."[72] "Fifty per cent. on the assessment is allowed," says Mr. Campbell,[73] "as a reward to any informer of concealed cultivation, &c.; and it is stated that there are, 'in almost every village, dismissed accountants desirous of being re-employed, and unemployed servants who wish to bring themselves to notice,' whose services as informers can be relied on." A system like this, involving the most prying supervision of the affairs of each individual, and in which, in settling the tax to be paid, "the collector takes into consideration the number of children [74] to be supported, makes the poor ryot a mere slave to the collector, and with the disadvantage that the latter has no pecuniary interest in the preservation of his life, whereas the death of a slave, who constitutes a part of the capital of his owner, is a severe loss." The tendency thus far has been, as we see, to sweep away the rights not only of kings and princes, but of all the native authorities, and to centralize in the hands of foreigners in Calcutta the power to determine for the cultivator, the artisan, or the labourer, what work he should do, and how much of its products he might retain, thus placing the latter in precisely the position of a mere slave to people who could feel no interest in him but simply as a tax-payer, and, who were represented by strangers in the country, whose authority was everywhere used by the native officers in their employ, to enable them to accumulate fortunes for themselves. The poor manufacturer, as heavily taxed as the cultivator of the earth, found himself compelled to obtain advances from his employers, who, in their turn, claimed, as interest, a large proportion of the little profit that was made. The Company's agents, like the native merchants, advanced the funds necessary to produce the goods required for Europe, and the poor workmen are described as having been "in a state of dependence almost amounting to servitude, enabling the resident to obtain his labour at his own price."[75] In addition to the taxes already described, a further one was collected at local custom-houses, on all exchanges between the several parts of the country; and to these were again added others imposed by means of monopolies of tobacco and opium, and of salt, one of the most important necessaries of life. The manufacture of coarse salt from the earth was strictly prohibited.[76] The salt lakes of the upper country furnish a supply so great that it is of little value on the spot;[77] but these lakes being even yet in the possession of native princes, the monopoly could then, and can now, be maintained only by aid of strong bands of revenue officers, whose presence renders that which is almost worthless on one side of an imaginary line so valuable on the other side of it that it requires the produce of the sixth part of the labour of the year to enable the poor Hindoo to purchase salt for his family. Along the seashore salt is abundantly furnished by nature, the solar heat causing a constant deposition of it; but the mere fact of collecting it was constituted an offence punishable by fine and imprisonment, and the quantity collected by the Company's officers was limited to that required for meeting the demand at a monopoly price, all the remainder being regularly destroyed, lest the poor ryot should succeed in obtaining for himself, at cost, such a supply as was needed to render palatable the rice which constituted almost his only food. The system has since been rendered less oppressive, but even now the duty is ten times greater than it was under enlightened Mohammedan sovereigns.[78] Such being the mode of collecting the revenue, we may now look to its distribution. Under the native princes it was, to a great extent, locally-expended, whereas, under the new system, all the collections by government or by individuals tended to Calcutta, to be there disposed of. Thence no inconsiderable portion of it passed to England, and thus was established a perpetual drain that certainly could not be estimated at less than four millions of pounds sterling per annum, and cannot be placed, in the last century, at less than four hundred millions of pounds, or two thousand millions of dollars. The difference between an absentee landlord expending at a distance all his rents, and a resident one distributing it again among his tenants in exchange for services, and the difference in the value of the products of the land resulting from proximity to market, are so well exhibited in the following passage from a recent work on India, that the reader cannot fail to profit by its perusal:-- "The great part of the wheat, grain, and other exportable land produce which the people consume, as far as we have yet come, is drawn from our Nerbudda districts, and those of Malwa which border upon them; and _par consequent_, the price has been rapidly increasing as we recede from them in our advance northward. Were the soil of those Nerbudda districts, situated as they are at such a distance from any great market for their agricultural products, as bad as it is in the parts of Bundelcund that I came over, no net surplus revenue could possibly be drawn from them in the present state of arts and industry. The high prices paid here for land produce, arising from the necessity of drawing a great part of what is consumed from such distant lands, enables the Rajahs of these Bundelcund states to draw the large revenue they do. These chiefs expend the whole of their revenue in the maintenance of public establishments of one kind or other; and as the essential articles of subsistence, _wheat_ and _grain, &c._, which are produced in their own districts, or those immediately around them, are not sufficient for the supply of these establishments, they must draw them from distant territories. All this produce is brought on the backs of bullocks, because there is no road from the districts whence they obtain it, over which a wheeled carriage can be drawn with safety; and as this mode of transit is very expensive, the price of the produce, when it reaches the capitals, around which these local establishments are concentrated, becomes very high. They must pay a price equal to the collective cost of purchasing and bringing this substance from the most distant districts, to which they are at any time obliged to have recourse for a supply, or they will not be supplied; and as there cannot be two prices for the same thing in the same market, the wheat and grain produced in the neighbourhood of one of these Bundelcund capitals, fetch as high a price there as that brought from the most remote districts on the banks of the Nerbudda river; while it costs comparatively nothing to bring it from the former lands to the markets. Such lands, in consequence, yield a rate of rent much greater compared with their natural powers of fertility than those of the remotest districts whence produce is drawn for these markets or capitals; and as all the lands are the property of the Rajahs, they draw all these rents as revenue. "Were we to take this revenue, which the Rajahs now enjoy, in tribute for the maintenance of public establishments concentrated at distant seats, all these local establishments would of course be at once disbanded; and all the effectual demand which they afford for the raw agricultural produce of distant districts would cease. The price of the produce would diminish in proportion; and with it the value of the lands of the districts around such capitals. Hence the folly of conquerors and paramount powers, from the days of the Greeks and Romans down to those of Lord Hastings and Sir John Malcolm, who were all bad political economists, supposing that conquered and ceded territories could always be made to yield to a foreign state the same amount of gross revenue they had paid to their domestic government, whatever their situation with reference to the markets for their produce--whatever the state of their arts and their industry--and whatever the character and extent of the local establishments maintained out of it. The settlements of the land revenue in all the territories acquired in central India during the Mahratta war, which ended, in 1817, were made upon the supposition, that the lands would continue to pay the same rate of rent under the new, as they had paid under the old government, uninfluenced by the diminution of all local establishments, civil and military, to one-tenth of what they had been; that, under the new order of things, all the waste lands must be brought into tillage; and be able to pay as high a rate of rent as before tillage; and, consequently, that the aggregate available net revenue must greatly and rapidly increase! Those who had the making of the settlements, and the governing of these new territories, did not consider that the diminution of every _establishment_ was the removal of a _market_--of an effectual demand for land produce; and that when all the waste lands should be brought into tillage, the whole would deteriorate in fertility, from the want of fallows, under the prevailing system of agriculture, which afforded the lands no other means of renovation from over cropping. The settlements of the land revenue which were made throughout our new acquisitions upon these fallacious assumptions, of course failed. During a series of quinquennial settlements, the assessment has been everywhere gradually reduced to about two-thirds of what it was when our rule began; and to less than one-half of what Sir John Malcolm, and all the other local authorities, and even the worthy Marquis of Hastings himself, under the influence of their opinions, expected it would be. The land revenues of the native princes of central India, who reduced their public establishments, which the new order of things seemed to render useless, and thereby diminished their only markets for the raw produce of their lands, have been everywhere falling off in the same proportion; and scarcely one of them now draws two-thirds of the income he drew from the same lands in 1817. "There are in the valley of the Nerbudda, districts that yield a great deal more produce every year than either Orcha, Jansee, or Duteea; and yet, from the want of the same domestic markets, they do not yield one-fourth of the amount of land revenue. The lands are, however, rated equally high to the assessment, in proportion to their value to the farmers and cultivators. To enable them to yield a larger revenue to government, they require to have larger establishments as markets for land produce. These establishments may be either public, and paid by government, or they may be private, as manufactories, by which the land produce of these districts would be consumed by people employed in investing the value of their labour in commodities suited to the demand of distant markets, and more valuable than land produce in proportion to their weight and bulk. These are the establishments which government should exert itself to introduce and foster, since the valley of the Nerbudda, in addition to a soil exceedingly fertile, has in its whole line, from its source to its embouchure, rich beds of coal reposing for the use of future generations, under the sandstone of the Sathpore and Vindhya ranges; and beds no less rich of very fine iron. These advantages have not yet been justly appreciated; but they will be so by and by."[79] From the concluding lines of this extract the reader will see that India is abundantly supplied with fuel and iron ore, and that if she has not good machinery, the deficiency is not chargeable to nature. At the close of the last century cotton abounded, and to so great an extent was the labour of men, women, and children applied to its conversion into cloth, that, even with their imperfect machinery, they not only supplied the home demand for the beautiful tissues of Dacca and the coarse products of Western India, but they exported to other parts of the world no less than 200,000,000 of pieces per annum.[80] Exchanges with every part of the world were so greatly in their favour that a rupee which would now sell for but 1s. 10d. or 44 cents, was then worth 2s. 8d. or 64 cents. The Company had a monopoly of collecting taxes in India, but in return it preserved to the people the control of their domestic market, by aid of which they were enabled to convert their rice, their salt, and their cotton, into cloth that could be cheaply carried to the most remote parts of the world. Such protection was needed, because while England prohibited the export of even a single collier who might instruct the people of India in the mode of mining coal--of a steam engine to pump water or raise coal, or a mechanic who could make one--of a worker in iron who might smelt the ore--of a spinning-jenny or power-loom, or of an artisan who could give instruction in the use of such machines--and thus systematically prevented them from keeping pace with improvement in the rest of the world,--she at the same time imposed very heavy duties on the produce of Indian looms received in England. The day was at hand, however, when that protection was to disappear. The Company did not, it was said, export sufficiently largely of the produce of British industry, and in 1813 the trade to India was thrown open--_but the restriction on the export of machinery and artisans was maintained in full force_; and thus were the poor and ignorant people of that country exposed to "unlimited competition," with a people possessed of machinery ten times more effective than their own, while not only by law deprived of the power to purchase machinery, but also of the power of competing in the British market with the produce of British looms. Further than this, every loom in India, and every machine calculated to aid the labourer, was subject to a tax that increased with every increase in the industry of its owner, and in many cases absorbed the whole profit derived from its use.[81] Such were the circumstances under which the poor Hindoo was called upon to encounter, unprotected, the "unlimited competition" of foreigners in his own market. It was freedom of trade all on one side. Four years after, the export of cottons from Bengal still amounted to £1,659,994,[82] but ten years later it had declined to £285,121; and at the end of twenty years we find a whole year pass by without the export of a single piece of cotton cloth from Calcutta, the whole of the immense trade that existed but half a century since having disappeared. What were the measures used for the accomplishment of the work of destroying a manufacture that gave employment and food to so many millions of the poor people of the country, will be seen on a perusal of the following memorial, which shows that while India was denied machinery, and also denied access to the British market, she was forced to receive British cottons free of all duty:-- _"Petition of Natives of Bengal, relative to Duties on Cotton and Silk._ "Calcutta, 1st Sept. 1831. "To the Right Honourable the Lords of His Majesty's Privy Council for Trade, &c. "The humble Petition of the undersigned Manufacturers and Dealers in Cotton and Silk Piece Goods, the fabrics of Bengal; "SHOWETH--That of late years your Petitioners have found their business nearly superseded by the introduction of the fabrics of Great Britain into Bengal, the importation of which augments every year, to the great prejudice of the native manufacturers. "That the fabrics of Great Britain are consumed in Bengal, without any duties being levied thereon to protect the native fabrics. "That the fabrics of Bengal are charged with the following duties when they are used in Great Britain-- "On manufactured cottons, 10 per cent. On manufactured silks, 24 per cent. "Your Petitioners most humbly implore your Lordships' consideration of these circumstances, and they feel confident that no disposition exists in England to shut the door against the industry of any part of the inhabitants of this great empire. "They therefore pray to be admitted to the privilege of British subjects, and humbly entreat your Lordships to allow the cotton and silk fabrics of Bengal to be used in Great Britain 'free of duty,' or at the same rate which may be charged on British fabrics consumed in Bengal. "Your Lordships must be aware of the immense advantages the British manufacturers derive from their skill in constructing and using machinery, which enables them to undersell the unscientific manufacturers of Bengal in their own country: and, although your Petitioners are not sanguine in expecting to derive any great advantage from having their prayer granted, their minds would feel gratified by such a manifestation of your Lordships' good-will toward them; and such an instance of justice to the natives of India would not fail to endear the British government to them. "They therefore confidently trust that your Lordships' righteous consideration will be extended to them as British subjects, without exception of sect, country, or colour. "And your Petitioners, as in duty bound, will ever pray." [Signed by 117 natives of high respectability.] The object sought to be accomplished would not have, however, been attained by granting the prayer of this most reasonable and humble petition. When the export of cotton, woollen, and steam machinery was prohibited, it was done with a view of compelling all the wool of the world to come to England to be spun and woven, thence to be returned to be worn by those who raised it--thus depriving the people of the world of all power to apply their labour otherwise than in taking from the earth cotton, sugar, indigo, and other commodities for the supply of the great "workshop of the world." How effectually that object has been accomplished in India, will be seen from the following facts. From the date of the opening of the trade in 1813, the domestic manufacture and the export of cloth have gradually declined until the latter has finally ceased, and the export of raw cotton to England has gradually risen until it has attained a height of about sixty millions of pounds,[83] while the import of twist from England has risen to twenty-five millions of pounds, and of cloth, to two hundred and sixty millions of yards; weighing probably fifty millions of pounds, which, added to the twist, make seventy-five millions, requiring for their production somewhat more than eighty millions of raw cotton. We see thus that every pound of the raw material sent to England is returned. The cultivator receives for it one penny, and when it returns to him in the form of cloth, he pays for it from one to two shillings, the whole difference being absorbed in the payment of the numerous brokers, transporters, manufacturers, and operatives, men, women, and children, that have thus been interposed between the producer and the consumer. The necessary consequence of this has been that everywhere manufactures have disappeared. Dacca, one of the principal seats of the cotton manufacture, contained 90,000 houses, but its trade had already greatly fallen off even at the date of the memorial above given, and its splendid buildings, factories, and churches are now a mass of ruins and overgrown with jungle. The cotton of the district found itself compelled to go to England that it might there be twisted and sent back again, thus performing a voyage of 20,000 miles in search of the little spindle, because it was a part of the British policy not to permit the spindle anywhere to take its place by the side of the cultivator of cotton. The change thus effected has been stated in a recent official report to have been attended with ruin and distress, to which "no parallel can be found in the annals of commerce." What were the means by which it was effected is shown in the fact that at this period Sir Robert Peel stated that in Lancashire, _children_ were employed fifteen and seventeen hours per day during the week, and on Sunday morning, from six until twelve, cleaning the machinery. In Coventry, ninety-six hours in the week was the time usually required; and of those employed, many obtained but 2s. 9d.--66 cents--for a week's wages. The object to be accomplished was that of underworking the poor Hindoo, and driving him from the market of the world, after which he was to be driven from his own. The mode of accomplishment was that of cheapening labour and enslaving the labourer at home and abroad. With the decline of manufactures there has ceased to be a demand for the services of women or children in the work of conversion, and they are forced either to remain idle, or to seek employment in the field; and here we have one of the distinguishing marks of a state of slavery. The men, too, who were accustomed to fill up the intervals of other employments in pursuits connected with the cotton manufacture, were also driven to the field--and all demand for labour, physical or intellectual, was at an end, except so far as was needed for raising rice, indigo, sugar, or cotton. The rice itself they were not permitted to clean, being debarred therefrom by a duty double that which was paid on paddy, or rough rice, on its import into England. The poor grower of cotton, after paying to the government seventy-eight per cent.[84] of the product of his labour, found himself deprived of the power to trade directly with the man of the loom, and forced into "unlimited competition" with the better machinery and almost untaxed labour of our Southern States; and thereby subjected to "the mysterious variations of foreign markets" in which the fever of speculation was followed by the chill of revulsion with a rapidity and frequency that set at naught all calculation. If our crops were small, his English customers would take his cotton; but when he sent over more next year, there had, perhaps, been a good season here, and the Indian article became an absolute drug in the market. It was stated some time since, in the House of Commons, that one gentleman, Mr. Turner, had thrown £7000 worth of Indian cotton upon a dunghill, because he could find no market for it. It will now readily be seen that the direct effect of thus _compelling_ the export of cotton from India was to increase the quantity pressing on the market of England, and thus to lower the price of all the cotton of the world, including that required for domestic consumption. The price of the whole Indian crop being thus rendered dependent on that which could be realized for a small surplus that would have no existence but for the fact that the domestic manufacture had been destroyed, it will readily be seen how enormous has been the extent of injury inflicted upon the poor cultivator by the forcible separation of the plough and the loom, and the destruction of the power of association. Again, while the price of cotton is fixed in England, there, too, is fixed the price of cloth, and such is the case with the sugar and the indigo to the production of which these poor people are forced to devote themselves; and thus are they rendered the mere slaves of distant men, who determine what they shall receive for all they have to sell, and what they shall pay for all they require to purchase. Centralization and slavery go thus always hand in hand with each other. The ryots are, as we see, obliged to pay sixteen or eighteen pence for the pound of cotton that has yielded them but one penny; and all this difference is paid for the labour of other people while idle themselves. "A great part of the time of the labouring population in India is," says Mr. Chapman,[85] "spent in idleness. I don't say this to blame them in the smallest degree. Without the means of exporting heavy and crude surplus agricultural produce, and with scanty means, whether of capital, science, or manual skill, for elaborating on the spot articles fitted to induce a higher state of enjoyment and of industry in the mass of the people, they have really no inducement to exertion beyond that which is necessary to gratify their present and very limited wishes; those wishes are unnaturally low, inasmuch as they do not afford the needful stimulus to the exercise requisite to intellectual and moral improvement; and it is obvious that there is no remedy for this but extended intercourse. Meanwhile, probably the half of the human time and energy of India runs to mere waste. Surely we need not wonder at the poverty of the country." Assuredly we need not. They are idle perforce. With indifferent means of communication, their cotton and their food _could readily travel in the form of cloth_, and they could consume liberally of food and clothing; but they find themselves now forced to export every thing in its rudest form, and this they are to do in a country that is almost without roads. The manner in which these raw products now travel may be seen on a perusal of the following passage from the London _Economist_:-- "The cotton is brought on oxen, carrying 160 pounds each, at the extreme rate, in fair weather, of seven miles a day for a continuance, and at a price of about 5s. for each hundred miles. If we take the average distance to Mirzapore at 500 miles, each pound of cotton costs in transit alone above 2-1/2 d. It has thence to be borne by water-carriage nearly 800 miles farther on to Calcutta. * * * The great cotton-growing districts are in the northern portion of the Peninsula, embracing Guzerat, and a vast tract called the Deccan, lying between the Satpoora range of hills and the course of the Kishna River. General Briggs says--'The cotton from the interior of the country to the coast at Bombay occupies a continuous journey of from one to two months, according to the season of the year; while in the rains the route is wholly impassable, and the traffic of the country is at a stand.' "In the absence of a defined road, even the carriers, with their pack-cattle, are compelled to travel by daylight, to prevent the loss of their bullocks in the jungles they have to pass through, and this under a burning sun of from 100 to 140 degrees Fahrenheit. The droves of oxen are never so few as one hundred, and sometimes exceed a thousand. Every morning after daylight each animal has to be saddled, and the load lifted on him by two men, one on each side; and before they are all ready to move the sun has attained a height which renders the heat to an European oppressive. The whole now proceeds at the rate of about two miles an hour, and seldom performs a journey of more than eight miles; but, as the horde rests every fourth day, the average distance is but six miles a day. If the horde is overtaken by rain, the cotton, saturated by moisture, becomes heavy, and the black clayey soil, through which the whole line of road lies, sinks under the feet of a man above the ankle, and under that of a laden ox to the knees. "In this predicament the cargo of cotton lies sometimes for weeks on the ground, and the merchant is ruined." "So miserably bad," says another writer, "are the existing means of communication with the interior, that many of the most valuable articles of produce are, _for want of carriage and a market, often allowed to perish on the farm_, while the cost of that which found its way to the port was enormously enhanced; but the quantity did not amount to above 20 per cent. of the whole of the produce, the remainder of the articles always being greatly deteriorated." It will scarcely be difficult now to understand why it is that cotton yields the cultivator but a penny per pound. Neither will it be difficult, seeing that the local manufacturers have every where been ruined, to understand why the producer of the more bulky food is in a condition that is even worse, now that the consumer has disappeared from his side. If the crop is large, grain is a drug for which scarcely any price can be obtained;[86] and if it is small, the people perish, by thousands and ten of thousands, of famine, because, in the existing state of the roads, there can be little or no exchange of raw products. In the first case the cultivator is ruined, because it requires almost the whole crop to pay the taxes. In the other he is starved; and all this is a necessary consequence of a system that excludes the great middle class of mechanics and other working-men, and resolves a great nation into a mass of wretched cultivators, slaves to a few grasping money lenders. Under such circumstances, the accumulation of any thing like capital is impossible. "None," says Colonel Sleeman,[87] "have stock equal to half their rent." They are dependent everywhere, on the produce of the year, and however small may be its amount, the taxes must be paid, and of all that thus goes abroad nothing is returned. The soil gets nothing.[88] It is not manured, nor can it be under a system of absenteeism like this, and its fertility everywhere declines, as is shown by the following extracts:-- "Formerly, the governments kept no faith with their land-holders and cultivators, exacting ten rupees where they had bargained for five, whenever they found the crops good; but, in spite of all this _zolm_, (oppression,) there was then more _burkut_ (blessings from above) than now. The lands yielded more returns to the cultivator, and he could maintain his little family better upon five acres than he can now upon ten.[89] "The land requires rest from labour, as well as men and bullocks; and if you go on sowing wheat and other exhausting crops, it will go on yielding less and less returns, and at last will not be worth the tilling."[90] "There has been a manifest falling off in the returns."[91] The soil is being exhausted, and every thing necessarily goes backward. Trees are cut down, but none are planted; and the former sites of vast groves are becoming arid wastes, a consequence of which is, that droughts become from year to year more frequent. "The clouds," says Colonel Sleeman,[92] "brought up from the southern ocean by the south-east trade-wind are attracted, as they pass over the island, by the forests in the interior, and made to drop their stores in daily refreshing showers. In many other parts of the world, governments have now become aware of this mysterious provision of nature, and have adopted measures to take advantage of it for the benefit of the people; and the dreadful sufferings to which the people of those of our districts, which have been the most denuded of their trees, have been of late years exposed from the want of rain in due season, may, perhaps, induce our Indian government, to turn its thoughts to the subject." In former times extensive works were constructed for irrigating the land, but they are everywhere going to ruin--thus proving that agriculture cannot flourish in the absence of the mechanic arts: "In Candeish, very many bunds [river-banks formed for purposes of irrigation] which were kept in repair under former governments, have, under ours, fallen to decay; nevertheless, not only has the population increased considerably under our rule, but in 1846 or 1847, the collector was obliged to grant remission of land tax, 'because the abundance of former years lay stagnating in the province, and the low prices of grain from that cause prevented the ryots from being able to pay their fixed land assessment.'"[93] We have here land abandoned and the cultivator ruined for want of a market for food, and wages falling for want of a market for labour; and yet these poor people are paying for English food and English labour employed in converting into cloth the cotton produced alongside of the food--and they are ruined because they have so many middlemen to pay that the producer of cotton can obtain little food, and the producer of food can scarcely pay his taxes, and has nothing to give for cloth. Every thing tends, therefore, toward barbarism, and, as in the olden time of England and of Europe generally, famines become steadily more numerous and more severe, as is here shown:-- "Some of the finest tracts of land have been forsaken, and given up to the untamed beasts of the jungle. The motives to industry have been destroyed. The soil seems to lie under a curse. Instead of yielding abundance for the wants of its own population, and the inhabitants of other regions, it does not keep in existence its own children. It becomes the burying-place of millions, who die upon its bosom crying for bread. In proof of this, turn your eyes backward upon the scenes of the past year. Go with me into the north-western provinces of the Bengal presidency, and I will show you the bleaching skeletons of five hundred thousand human beings, who perished of hunger in the space of a few short months. Yes, died of hunger in what has been justly called the granary of the world. Bear with me, if I speak of the scenes which were exhibited during the prevalence of this famine. The air for miles was poisoned by the effluvia emitted from the putrefying bodies of the dead. The rivers were choked with the corpses thrown into their channels. Mothers cast their little ones beneath the rolling waves, because they would not see them draw their last gasp and feel them stiffen in their arms. The English in the city were prevented from taking their customary evening drives. Jackalls and vultures approached, and fastened upon the bodies of men, women, and children, before life was extinct. Madness, disease, despair stalked abroad, and no human power present to arrest their progress. _It was the carnival of death!_ And this occurred in British India--in the reign of Victoria the First! Nor was the event extraordinary and unforeseen. Far from it: 1835-36 witnessed a famine in the northern provinces: 1833 beheld one to the eastward: 1822-23 saw one in the Deccan. They have continued to increase in frequency and extent under our sway for more than half a century."[94] The famine of 1838 is thus described by Mr. George Thompson, late M. P., on the testimony of a gentleman of high respectability: "The poorer houses were entirely unroofed, the thatches having been given to feed the cattle, which had nevertheless died; so that cattle had disappeared altogether from the land. He says that a few attenuated beings, more like skeletons than human creatures, were seen hovering about among the graves of those who had been snatched away by the famine; that desertion was everywhere visible, and that the silence of death reigned. In one of the villages, he says, an old man from whom they had bought a goat during their former visit, in 1833, was the only survivor of the whole community except his brother's son, whom he was cherishing and endeavouring to keep alive, and these two had subsisted altogether upon the eleemosynary bounty of travellers. The courier of Lord Auckland had informed this gentleman that when the governor-general passed through that part of the country the roads were lined on either side with heaps of dead bodies, and that they had not unfrequently to remove those masses of unburied human beings, ere the governor-general could proceed onward with his suite; and that every day from 2000 to 3000 famishing wretches surrounded and followed the carriages, to whom he dealt out a scanty meal; and on one occasion the horse of the courier took fright, and on the cause being ascertained--what was it? It was found to be the lifeless body of a man who had died with his hand in his mouth, from which he had already devoured the fingers."[95] The more severe the pressure on the poor ryot, the greater is the power of the few who are always ready to profit by the losses of their neighbours. These poor people are obliged to borrow money on their growing crops, the prices of which are regulated by the will of the lender rather than by the standard of the market, and the rate of interest which the cultivators pay for these loans is often not less than 40 or 50 per cent. A recent traveller says of the unfortunate cultivator-- "Always oppressed, ever in poverty, the ryot is compelled to seek the aid of the mahajun, or native money-lender. This will frequently be the talukdhar, or sub-renter, who exacts from the needy borrower whatever interest he thinks the unfortunate may be able to pay him, often at the rate of one per cent. per week. The accounts of these loans are kept by the mahajuns, who, aware of the deep ignorance of their clients, falsify their books, without fear of detection. In this way, no matter how favourable the season, how large the crop, the grasping mahajun is sure to make it appear that the _whole_ is due to him; for he takes it at his own value. So far from Mr. Burke having overstated the case of the oppression of the ryots, on the trial of Warren Hastings, when he said that the tax-gatherer took from them eighteen shillings in every pound, he was really within the mark. At the conclusion of each crop-time, the grower of rice or cotton is made to appear a debtor to his superior, who thereupon provided the ryot appears able to toil on for another season--advances more seed for sowing, and a little more rice to keep the labourer and his family from absolute starvation. But should there be any doubt as to the health and strength of the tenant-labourer, he is mercilessly turned from his land and his mud hut, and left to die on the highway." This is slavery, and under such a system how could the wretched people be other than slaves? The men have no market for their labour, and the women and children must remain idle or work in the field, as did, and do, the women of Jamaica; and all because they are compelled everywhere to exhaust the soil in raising crops to be sent to a distance to be consumed, and finally to abandon the land, even where they do not perish of famine. Mr. Chapman informs us that-- "Even in the valley of the Ganges, where the population is in some districts from 600 to 800 to the square mile, one-third of the cultivable lands are not cultivated; and in the Deecan, from which we must chiefly look for increased supplies of cotton, the population, amounting to about 100 to the square mile, is maintained by light crops, grown on little more than half the cultivable land."[96] Elsewhere he tells us that of _the cultivable surface of all India one-half is waste_.[97] Bishop Heber informs us of the "impenetrable jungle" that now surrounds the once great manufacturing city of Dacca; and the Bombay Times reminds its English readers of the hundreds of thousands of acres of rich land that are lying waste, and that might be made to produce cotton. When population and wealth diminish it is always the rich soils that are first abandoned, as is shown in the Campagna of Rome, in the valley of Mexico, and in the deltas of the Ganges and the Nile. Without association they could never have been brought into cultivation, and with the disappearance of the power to associate they are of necessity allowed to relapse into their original condition. Driven back to the poor soils and forced to send abroad the product, their wretched cultivator becomes poorer from day to day, and the less he obtains the more he becomes a slave to the caprices of his landlord, and the more is he thrown upon the mercy of the money-lender, who lends _on good security_ at three per cent. per month, but _from him_ must have fifty or a hundred per cent. for a loan until harvest. That under such circumstances the wages of labour should be very low, even where the wretched people are employed, must be a matter of course. In some places the labourer has two and in others three rupees, or less than a dollar and a half, per month. The officers employed on the great zemindary estates have from three to four rupees, and that this is a high salary, is proved by the fact that the police receive but 48 rupees ($23) per annum, out of which they feed and clothe themselves! Such are the rewards of labour in a country possessing every conceivable means of amassing wealth, and they become less from year to year. "It could not be too universally known," said Mr. Bright in the House of Commons, two years since, "That the cultivators of the soil were in a very unsatisfactory condition; that they were, in truth, in a condition of extreme and almost universal poverty. All testimony concurred upon that point. He would call the attention of the house to the statement of a celebrated native of India, the Rajah Rammohun Roy, who about twenty years ago published a pamphlet in London, in which he pointed out the ruinous effects of the zemindary system, and the oppression experienced by the ryots in the presidencies both of Bombay and Madras. After describing the state of matters generally, he added, 'Such was the melancholy condition of the agricultural labourers, that it always gave him the greatest pain to allude to it.' Three years afterward, Mr. Shore, who was a judge in India, published a work which was considered as a standard work till now, and he stated that 'the British Government was not regarded in a favourable light by the native population of India,'--that a system of taxation and extortion was carried on 'unparalleled in the annals of any country. Then they had the authority of an American planter, Mr. Finnie, who was in India in 1840, and who spoke of the deplorable condition of the cultivators of the soil, and stated that if the Americans were similarly treated, they would become as little progressive as the native Indians. He might next quote the accounts given by Mr. Marriott in 1838, a gentleman who was for thirty years engaged in the collection of the revenue in India, and who stated that 'the condition of the cultivators was greatly depressed, and that he believed it was still declining.' There was the evidence of a native of India to which he might refer on this subject. It was that of a gentleman, a native of Delhi, who was in England in the year 1849, and he could appeal to the right hon. baronet the member for Tamworth in favour of the credibility of that gentleman. He never met with a man of a more dignified character, or one apparently of greater intelligence, and there were few who spoke the English language with greater purity and perfection. That gentleman had written a pamphlet, in which he stated that throughout his whole line of march from Bombay he found the Nizam's territories better cultivated, and the ryots in a better state of circumstances, than were the Company's territories, of the people residing within them, who were plunged in a state of the greatest poverty; and he concluded his short, but comparatively full, notice of the present deplorable state of India, by observing that he feared this was but the prelude of many more such descriptions of the different portions of the Company's dominions which would be put forth before the subject would attract the notice of those whose duty it was to remove the evils that existed." We have here confirmation of the correctness of the views of Colonel Sleeman, that the condition of the people under the local governments is better than under the great central government. Heavily as they are taxed, a small part only of the proceeds of taxes goes, in these cases, to Calcutta on its way to England, whereas, of the enormous salaries paid to English governors and judges, nearly the whole must go abroad, as no one consents to serve for a few years in India, except on such terms as will enable him to accumulate a fortune and return home to spend it. In further confirmation of this we have the facts so fully given in Mr. Campbell's recent work, (Modern India, chap, xi.,) and proving that security of person and property increases as we pass _from_ the old possessions of the Company, and toward the newly acquired ones. Crime of every kind, gang robbery, perjury, and forgery, abound in Bengal and Madras, and the poverty of the cultivator is so great that the revenue is there the least, and is collected with the greatest difficulty--and there, too, it is that the power of association has been most effectually destroyed. Passing thence to the Northwestern provinces more recently acquired, person and property become more secure and the revenue increases; but when we reach the Punjab, which until now has been subject to the rule of Runjeet Singh and his successors, we find that, tyrants as he and they have been represented, the people have there been left in the exercise of self-government. The village communities and the beautiful system of association, destroyed in Bengal, there remain untouched. Officers of all kinds are there more responsible for the performance of their duties than are their fellows in the older provinces, and property and person are more secure than elsewhere in India. Gang robbery is rare, perjury is unfrequent, and Mr. Campbell informs us that a solemn oath is "astonishingly binding." "The longer we possess a province," he continues, "the more common and general does perjury become;" and we need no better evidence than is thus furnished of the slavish tendency of the system. The hill tribes, on the contrary, are remarkable for their "strict veracity," and Colonel Sleeman expresses the belief that "there is as little falsehood spoken in the village communities," as in any part of the world with an equal area and population.[98] In the new provinces the people read and write with facility, and they are men of physical and moral energy, good cultivators, and understand well both their rights and their duties; whereas from the older ones education has disappeared, and with it all power to associate together for any good purpose. In the new provinces, commerce is large, as is shown by the following facts representing the population and post-office revenue of Bengal, the N. W. Provinces, and the Punjab, placed in the order of their acquisition by the Company:-- Population. Post-office Revenue. ----------- -------------------- Bengal................ 41,000,000 480,500 rupees. N. W. Provinces....... 24,000,000 978,000 " Punjab................ 8,000,000 178,000 " We have here exhibited the remarkable fact that in the country of the Sikhs, so long represented as a scene of grasping tyranny, eight millions of people pay as much postage as is paid by fifteen millions in Bengal, although in the latter is Calcutta, the seat of all the operations of a great centralized government. That such should be the case is not extraordinary, for the power advantageously to employ labour diminishes with the approach to the centre of British power, and increases as we recede from it. Idleness and drunkenness go hand in hand with each other, and therefore it is that Mr. Campbell finds himself obliged to state that "intemperance increases where our rule and system have been long established."[99] We see thus that the observations of both Mr. Campbell and Colonel Sleeman, authors of the most recent works on India, confirm to the letter the earlier statements of Captain Westmacott, an extract from which is here given:-- "It is greatly to be deplored, that in places the longest under our rule, there is the largest amount of depravity and crime. My travels in India have fallen little short of 8000 miles, and extended to nearly all the cities of importance in Northern, Western, and Central India. I have no hesitation in affirming, that in the Hindoo and Mussulman cities, removed from European intercourse, there is much less depravity than either in Calcutta, Madras, or Bombay, where Europeans chiefly congregate." Calcutta grows, the city of palaces, but poverty and wretchedness grow as the people of India find themselves more and more compelled to resort to that city to make their exchanges. Under the native rule, the people of each little district could exchange with each other food for cotton or cotton cloth, paying nobody for the privilege. Now, every man must send his cotton to Calcutta, thence to go to England with the rice and the indigo of his neighbours, before he and they can exchange food for cloth or cotton--and the larger the quantity they send the greater is the tendency to decline in price. With every extension of the system there is increasing inability to pay the taxes, and increasing necessity for seeking new markets in which to sell cloth and collect what are called rents--and the more wide the extension of the system the greater is the difficulty of collecting revenue sufficient for keeping the machine of government in motion. This difficulty it was that drove the representatives of British power and civilization into becoming traders in that pernicious drug, opium. "The very best parts of India," as we are told,[100] were selected for the cultivation of the poppy. The people were told that they must either cultivate this plant, mate opium, or give up their land. If they refused, they were peremptorily told they must yield or quit. The same Company that forced them to grow opium said, You must sell the opium to us; and to them it was sold, and they gave the price they pleased to put upon the opium thus manufactured; and they then sold it to trading speculators at Calcutta, who caused it to be smuggled up the Canton River to an island called Lintin, and tea was received in exchange. At last, however, the emperor of China, after repeated threats, proceeded to execute summary justice; he seized every particle of opium; put under bond every European engaged in the merchandise of it; and the papers of to-day (1839) inform us that he has cut off the China trade, "root and branch." Unhappily, however, the British nation deemed it expedient to make war upon the poor Chinese, and compel them to pay for the opium that had been destroyed; and now the profits of the Indian government from poisoning a whole people have risen from £1,500,000, at the date of the above extract, to the enormous sum of £3,500,000, or $16,800,000, and the market is, as we are informed, still extending itself.[101] That the reader may see, and understand how directly the government is concerned in this effort at demoralizing and enslaving the Chinese, the following extract is given:-- "For the supply and manufacture of government opium there is a separate establishment. There are two great opium agencies at Ghazeepore and Patna, for the Benares and Bahar provinces. Each opium agent has several deputies in different districts, and a native establishment. They enter into contracts with the cultivators for the supply of opium at a rate fixed to meet the market. The land revenue authorities do not interfere, except to prevent cultivation without permission. Government merely bargains with the cultivators as cultivators, in the same way as a private merchant would, _and makes advances to them for the cultivation_. The only difficulty found is to prevent, their cultivating too much, as the rates are favourable, government a sure purchaser, and the cultivation liked. The land cultivated is measured, and precaution is taken that the produce is all sold to government. The raw opium thus received is sent to the head agency, where it is manufactured, packed in chests, and sealed with the Company's seal."[102] It would seem to the author of this paragraph almost a matter of rejoicing that the Chinese are bound to continue large consumers of the drug. "The failure of one attempt to exclude it has shown," as he thinks-- "That they are not likely to effect that object; and if we do not supply them, some one else will; but the worst of it is, according to some people, that if the Chinese only legalized the cultivation in their own country, they could produce it much cheaper, and our market would be ruined. Both for their sakes and ours we must hope that it is not so, or that they will not find it out."[103] Need we wonder, when gentlemen find pleasure in the idea of an increasing revenue from _forcing this trade in despite of all the efforts of the more civilized Chinese government_, that "intemperance increases" where the British "rule and system has been long established?" Assuredly not. Poor governments are, as we everywhere see, driven to encourage gambling, drunkenness, and other immoralities, as a means of extracting revenue from their unfortunate taxpayers; and the greater the revenue thus obtained, the poorer become the people and the weaker the government. Need we be surprised that that of India should be reduced to become manufacturer and smuggler of opium, when the people are forced to exhaust the land by sending away its raw products, and when the restraints upon the _mere collection_ of domestic salt are so great that English salt now finds a market in India? The following passage on this subject is worthy of the perusal of those who desire fully to understand how it is that the people of that country are restrained in the application of their labour, and why it is that labour is so badly paid:-- "But those who cry out in England against the monopoly, and their unjust exclusion from the salt trade, are egregiously mistaken. As concerns them there is positively no monopoly, but the most absolute free trade. And, more than this, the only effect of the present mode of manufacture in Bengal is to give them a market which they would never otherwise have. A government manufacture of salt is doubtless more expensive than a private manufacture; but the result of this, and of the equality of duty on bad and good salt, is, that fine English salt now more or less finds a market in India; whereas, were the salt duty and all government interference discontinued to-morrow, the cheap Bengal salt would be sold at such a rate that not a pound of English or any other foreign salt could be brought into the market."[104] Nevertheless, the system is regarded as one of perfect free trade! Notwithstanding all these efforts at maintaining the revenue, the debt has increased the last twelve years no less than £15,000,000, or seventy-two millions of dollars; and yet the government is absolute proprietor of all the land of India, and enjoys so large a portion of the beneficial interest in it, that private property therein is reduced to a sum absolutely insignificant, as will now be shown. The gross land revenue obtained from a country with an area of 491,448 square miles, or above three hundred millions of acres, is 151,786,743 rupees, equal to fifteen millions of pounds sterling, or seventy-two millions of dollars.[105] What is the value of private rights of property, subject to the payment of this tax, or rent, may be judged from the following facts:--In 1848-9 there were sold for taxes, in that portion of the country subject to the permanent settlement, 1169 estates, at something less than four years' purchase of the tax. Further south, in the Madras government, where the ryotwar settlement is in full operation, the land "would be sold" for balances of rent, but "generally it is not," as we are told, "and for a very good reason, viz. that nobody will buy it." Private rights in land being there of no value whatsoever, "the collector of Salem," as Mr. Campbell informs us-- "Naïvely mentions 'various unauthorized modes of stimulating the tardy,' rarely resorted to by heads of villages; such as 'placing him in the sun, obliging him to stand on one leg, or to sit with his head confined between his knees.'"[106] In the north-west provinces, "the settlement," as our author states, "has certainly been successful in giving a good market value to landed property;" that is, it sells at about "four years' purchase on the revenue."[107] Still further north, in the newly acquired provinces, we find great industry, "every thing turned to account," the assessment, to which the Company succeeded on the deposition of the successors of Runjeet Singh, more easy, and land more valuable.[108] The value of land, like that of labour, therefore increases as we pass _from_ the old to the new settlements, being precisely the reverse of what would be the case if the system tended to the enfranchisement and elevation of the people, and precisely what should be looked for in a country whose inhabitants were passing from freedom toward slavery. With the data thus obtained we may now ascertain, with perhaps some approach to accuracy, the value of all the private rights in the land of India. In no case does that subject to tax appear to be worth more than four years' purchase, while in a very large portion of the country it would seem to be worth absolutely nothing. There are, however, some tax-free lands that may be set off against those held under the ryotwar settlement; and it is therefore possible that the whole are worth four years' purchase, which would give 288 millions of dollars, or 60 millions of pounds sterling, as the value of all the rights in land acquired by the people of India by all the labour of their predecessors and themselves in the many thousands of years it has been cultivated. The few people that have occupied the little and sandy State of New Jersey, with its area of 6900 square miles, have acquired rights in and on the land that are valued, subject to the claims of government, at 150 millions of dollars; and the few that have occupied the little island on which stands the city of New York have acquired rights that would sell in the market for at least one-half more than could be obtained for all the proprietary rights to land in India, with 300 millions of acres and 96 millions of inhabitants! "Under the native princes," says Mr. Campbell, "India was a paying country." Under British rule, it has ceased to be so, because under that rule all power of combined action has been annihilated, or is in train to be, and will be so, by aid of the system that looks to compelling the whole people, men, women, and children, to work in the field, producing commodities to be exported in their raw state. Every act of association is an act of trade, and whatever tends to destroy association must destroy trade. The internal commerce of India declines steadily, and the external amounts to but about half a dollar per head, and no effort can make it grow to any extent. The returns of last year, of English trade, show a diminution as compared with those of the previous one, whereas with almost all other countries there is a large increase. Cuba exports to the large amount of twenty-five dollars per head, or almost fifty times as much as India; and she takes of cotton goods from England four times as much per head; and this she does because it is a part of the policy of Spain to bring about combination of action, and to enable the planter and the artisan to work together, whereas the policy of England is to destroy everywhere the power of association, and thus to destroy the domestic trade, upon which the foreign one must be built. Centralization is adverse to trade, and to the freedom of man. Spain does not seek to establish centralization. Provided she receives a given amount of revenue, she is content to permit her subjects to employ themselves at raising sugar or making cloth, as they please, and thus to advance in civilization; and by this very course it is that she is enabled to obtain revenue. How centralization operates on the people and the revenue, and how far it tends to promote the civilization or the freedom of man, may be seen, on a perusal of the following extract from a recent speech of Mr. Anstey, in the British House of Commons:-- "Such was the financial condition of India, which the right honourable gentleman believed to be so excellent. The intelligent natives of India, however, who visited this country, were not of that opinion. They told us that the complaints sent from India to this country were disregarded here, and that they always would be disregarded as long as inquiry into them was imperial, not local. They stated that their condition was one of hopeless misery, and that it had been so ever since they came under our rule. The result was, that cholera had become the normal order of things in that country, and in India it never died out. It appeared from the reports of medical officers in the army that it did not attack the rich and well-fed so frequently as it attacked the poor, and that among them it had made the most fearful ravages. The first authentic account they had of the appearance of the cholera in India was coincident with the imposition of the salt monopoly by Warren Hastings; and by a just retribution it had visited their own shores, showing them with what a scourge they had so long afflicted the natives of India. It might be said of the other taxes that, in one form or another, they affected every branch of industry and every necessary of life. They affected even the tools of trade, and were sometimes equal in amount to the sum for which the tool itself could be purchased in the market. "When on a former occasion he had mentioned those facts before a member of the court of directors, he was told that if he had seen the papers in the archives, he would perceive that an alteration had taken place; but he found, on an inspection of the papers, that the result to the purchaser of salt is almost equal to what it had been. It was a well known fact that the natives dare not complain. When they asked for protection from the laws, they were treated as Juttee Persaud had been treated last year--cases were fabricated against them, and they were prosecuted for their lives. With the examples before them of Nuncomar and Juttee Persaud, it was not surprising that the natives were so backward in bringing to justice the persons whose oppressions had been so great." It was in the face of facts like those here presented, and other similar ones presented to us in the history of Jamaica, that in a recent despatch Lord Palmerston thus instructed his minister at Madrid:-- "I have to instruct your lordship to observe to M. de Miraflores that the slaves of Cuba form a large portion, and by no means an unimportant one, of the population of Cuba; and that any steps taken to provide for their emancipation would, therefore, as far as the black population is concerned, be quite in unison with the recommendation made by her Majesty's government, that measures should be adopted for contenting the people of Cuba, with a view to secure the connection between that island and the Spanish crown; and it must be evident that if the negro population of Cuba were rendered free, that fact would create a most powerful element of resistance to any scheme for annexing Cuba to the United States, where slavery still exists. "With regard to the bearing which negro emancipation would have on the interests of the white proprietors, it may safely be affirmed that free labour costs less than slave labour, and it is indisputable that a free and contented peasantry are safer neighbours for the wealthy classes above them than ill-treated and resentful slaves; and that slaves must, from the nature of things, be more or less ill-treated, is a truth which belongs to the inherent principles of human nature, and is quite as inevitable as the resentment, however suppressed it may be, which is the consequence of ill-treatment." The negroes of Jamaica have never been permitted to apply their spare labour even to the refining of their own sugar, _nor are they so at this day_. They must export it raw, and the more they send the lower is the price and the larger the proportion taken by the government--but the poor negro is ruined. Spain, on the contrary, permits the Cubans to engage in any pursuits they may deem most likely to afford them a return to labour and capital; and, as a necessary consequence of this, towns and cities grow up, capital is attracted to the land, which becomes from day to day more valuable, labour is in demand, and there is a gradual, though slow, improvement of condition. The power to resort to other modes of employment diminishes the necessity for exporting sugar, and when exported to Spain, the producer is enabled to take for himself nearly the whole price paid by the consumer, the government claiming only a duty of fifteen per cent. The Hindoo, like the negro, is shut out from the workshop. If he attempts to convert his cotton into yarn, his spindle is taxed in nearly all of the profit it can yield him. If he attempts to make cloth, his loom is subjected to a heavy tax, from which that of his wealthy English competitor is exempt. His iron ore and his coal must remain in the ground, and if he dares to apply his labour even to the collection of the salt which crystallizes before his door, he is punished by fine and imprisonment. He must raise sugar to be transported to England, there to be exchanged, perhaps, for English salt. For the sugar, arrived in that country, the workman pays at the rate perhaps of forty shillings a hundred, of which the government claims one-third, the ship owner, the merchant, and others, another third, and the remaining third is to be fought for by the agents of the Company, anxious for revenue, and the poor ryot, anxious to obtain a little salt to eat with his rice, and as much of his neighbour's cotton, in the form of English cloth, as will suffice to cover his loins. Under the Spanish system capital increases, and labour is so valuable that slaves still continue to be imported. Under the English one, labour is valueless, and men sell themselves for long years of slavery at the sugar culture in the Mauritius, in Jamaica, and in Guiana. In all countries _to which_ men are attracted, civilization tends upward; but in all those _from which_ men fly, it tends downward. At the moment this despatch was being written by Lord Palmerston, Mr. Campbell was writing his book, in which it is everywhere shown that the tendency of India toward centralization and absenteeism, and therefore toward exhaustion and slavery, is rapidly on the increase. "The communication with India," as he says-- "Is every day so much increased and facilitated that we become more and more entirely free from native influence, and the disposition to Hindooize, which at first certainly showed itself, has altogether disappeared. The English in India have now become as English as in England. "While this state of things has great advantages, it has also some disadvantage in the want of local knowledge, and of permanency in the tenure of appointments which results. As there has been a constant succession of total strangers in every appointment, it follows that the government must be entirely carried on upon general principles, with little aid from local knowledge and experience."--P. 202. The tendency toward the transfer of English capital to India, as he informs us, retrogrades instead of advancing, and this is precisely what we might expect to find to be the case. _Capital never seeks a country from which men are flying as they now fly from India._ The English houses bring none, but being in general mere speculators, they borrow largely and enter into large operations, and when the bubble bursts, the poor Hindoo suffers in the prostration of trade and decline in the prices of cotton and sugar. "The consequence is," as Mr. Campbell says-- "That European speculation has retrograded. Far up the country, where the agents of the old houses were formerly numerous and well supplied with money, the planters are now few and needy, and generally earn but a precarious subsistence as in fact the servants of native capitalists."--P. 204. Iron, by aid of which the people might improve their processes of cultivation and manufacture, has little tendency toward India. The average export of it to that country in 1845 and '46 was but 13,000 tons, value £160,000, or about two-pence worth for every five of the population. Efforts are now being made for the construction of railroads, but their object is that of carrying out the system of centralization, and thus still further destroying the power of association, because they look to the annihilation of what still remains of domestic manufacture, and thus _cheapening cotton_. With all the improvements in the transportation of that commodity, its poor cultivator obtains less for it than he did thirty years since, and the effect of further improvement can be none other than that of producing a still further reduction, and still further deterioration of the condition of the men who raise food and cotton. As yet the power of association continues in the Punjab, but it is proposed now to hold there great fairs for the sale of English manufactures, and the day cannot be far distant when the condition of the people of the new provinces will be similar to that of those of the old ones, as no effort will be spared to carry out the system which looks to driving the whole people to agriculture, and thus compelling them to exhaust their land. It is needed, says Mr. Chapman, the great advocate of railways in India, that the connection between "the Indian grower and English spinner" become more intimate, and "_the more the English is made to outweigh the native home demand, the more strongly will the native agriculturist feel that his personal success depends on securing and improving his British connection_"[109]6750--that is, the more the natives can be prevented from combining, their labours, the greater, as Mr. Chapman thinks, will be the prosperity of India. Centralization has impoverished, and to a considerable extent depopulated, that country, but its work is not yet done. It remains yet to reduce the people of the Punjab, of Affghanistan and Burmah, to the condition of the Bengalese. The Burmese war is, as we are informed, "connected with at least certain hopes of getting across to China through the Burmese territories,"[110] and, of course of extending the trade in opium throughout the whole of interior China; and the revenue from that source will pay the cost of annexation. It is by aid of this powerful narcotic, probably, that "civilization" is about, as we are told, to "plant her standard on the ruins of kingdoms which for thousands of years have been smouldering into dust."[111] We are often told of "the dim moral perceptions" of the people of India, and as many of those who will read this volume may be disposed to think that the cause of poverty lies in some deficiencies in the character of the Hindoo, it may not be improper, with a view to the correction of that opinion, to offer a few passages from the very interesting work of Colonel Sleeman, who furnishes more information on that head than any other recent traveller or resident; and his remarks are the more valuable because of being the fruit of many years of observation:-- "Sir Thomas Munro has justly observed, 'I do not exactly know what is meant by civilizing the people of India. In the theory and practice of good government they may be deficient; but if a good system of agriculture--if unrivalled manufactures--if a capacity to produce what convenience or luxury demands--if the establishment of schools for reading and writing--if the general practice of kindness and hospitality--and above all, if a scrupulous respect and delicacy toward the female sex are amongst the points that denote a civilized people; then the Hindoos are not inferior in civilization to the people of Europe.--_Rambles_, vol. i. 4. "Our tents were pitched upon a green sward on one bank of a small stream running into the Nerbudda close by, while the multitude occupied the other bank. At night all the tents and booths are illuminated, and the scene is hardly less animating by night than by day; but what strikes an European most is the entire absence of all tumult and disorder at such places. He not only sees no disturbance, but feels assured that there will be none; and leaves his wife and children in the midst of a crowd of a hundred thousand persons all strangers to them, and all speaking a language and following a religion different from theirs, while he goes off the whole day, hunting and shooting in the distant jungles, without the slightest feeling of apprehension for their safety or comfort."--_Ibid_. 2. "I am much attached to the agricultural classes of India generally, and I have found among them some of the best men I have ever known. The peasantry in India have generally very good manners, and are exceedingly intelligent, from having so much more leisure, and unreserved and easy intercourse with those above them."--_Ibid_. 76. "I must say, that I have never either seen or read of a nobler spirit than seems to animate all classes of these communities in India on such distressing occasions."--_Ibid_. 197. "There is no part of the world, I believe, where parents are so much reverenced by their sons as they are in India in all classes of society."--_Ibid_. 330. "An instance of deliberate fraud or falsehood among native merchants of respectable stations in society, is extremely rare. Among the many hundreds of bills I have had to take from them for private remittances, I have never had one dishonoured, or the payment upon one delayed beyond the day specified; nor do I recollect ever hearing of one who had. They are so careful not to speculate beyond their means, that an instance of failure is extremely rare among them. No one ever in India hears of families reduced to ruin or distress by the failure of merchants and bankers; though here, as in all other countries advanced in the arts, a vast number of families subsist upon the interest of money employed by them. "There is no class of men more interested in the stability of our rule in India than this of the respectable merchants; nor is there any upon whom the welfare of our government, and that of the people, more depend. Frugal, first, upon principle, that they may not in their expenditure encroach upon their capitals, they become so by habit; and when they advance in life they lay out their accumulated wealth in the formation of those works which shall secure for them, from generation to generation, the blessings of the people of the towns in which they have resided, and those of the country around. It would not be too much to say, that one-half the great works which embellish and enrich the face of India, in tanks, groves, wells, temples, &c., have been formed by this class of the people solely with the view of securing the blessings of mankind by contributing to their happiness in solid and permanent works."--_Ibid_. vol. ii. 142. "In the year 1829, while I held the civil charge of the district of Jubbulpore, in this valley of the Nerbudda, I caused an estimate to be made of the public works of ornament and utility it contained. The population of the district at that time amounted to five hundred thousand souls, distributed among four thousand and fifty-three occupied towns, villages, and hamlets. There were one thousand villages more which had formerly been occupied, but were then deserted. There were two thousand two hundred and eighty-eight tanks, two hundred and nine bowlies, or large wells, with flights of steps extending from the top down to the water when in its lowest stage; fifteen hundred and sixty wells lined with brick and stone, cemented with lime, but without stairs; three hundred and sixty Hindoo temples, and twenty-two Mohammedan mosques. The estimated cost of these works in grain at the present price, that is the quantity that would have been consumed, had the labour been paid in kind at the present ordinary rate, was eighty-six lacks, sixty-six thousand and forty-three rupees (86,66,043,) £866,604 sterling. "The labourer was estimated to be paid at the rate of about two-thirds the quantity of corn he would get in England if paid in kind, and corn sells here at about one-third the price it fetches in average seasons in England. In Europe, therefore, these works, supposing the labour equally efficient, would have cost at least four times the sum here estimated; and such works formed by private individuals for the public good, without any view whatever to return in profits, indicates a very high degree of _public spirit_. "The whole annual rent of the lands of this district amounts to about six hundred and fifty thousand rupees a year, (£65,000 sterling,) that is, five hundred thousand demandable by the government, and one hundred and fifty thousand by those who hold the lands at lease immediately under government, over and above what may be considered as the profits of their stock as farmers. These works must, therefore, have cost about thirteen times the amount of the annual rent of the whole of the lands of the districts--or the whole annual rent for above thirteen years!"--_Ibid_, vol. ii. 194. We have here private rights in land amounting to 150,000 rupees, in a country abounding in coal and iron ore,[112] and with a population of half a million of people. Estimating the private interest at ten years' purchase, it is exactly three years' purchase of the land-tax; and it follows of course, that _the government takes every year one-fourth of the whole value of the property_,--at which rate the little State of New Jersey, with its half-million of inhabitants, would pay annually above thirty millions of dollars for the support of those who were charged with the administration of its affairs! Need we wonder at the poverty of India when thus taxed, while deprived of all power even to manure its land? "Three-fourths of the recruits for our Bengal native infantry are drawn from the Rajpoot peasantry of the kingdom of Oude, on the left bank of the Ganges, where their affections have been linked to the soil for a long series of generations. The good feelings of the families from which they are drawn, continue, through the whole period of their service, to exercise a salutary influence over their conduct as men and as soldiers. Though they never take their families with them, they visit them on furlough every two or three years, and always return to them when the surgeon considers a change of air necessary to their recovery from sickness. Their family circles are always present to their imaginations; and the recollections of their last visit, the hopes of the next, and the assurance that their conduct as men and as soldiers in the interval will be reported to those circles by their many comrades, who are annually returning on furlough to the same parts of the country, tend to produce a general and uniform propriety of conduct, that is hardly to be found among the soldiers of any other army in the world, and which seems incomprehensible to those who are unacquainted with its source,--veneration for parents cherished through life and a never impaired love of home, and of all the dear objects by which it is constituted."--Ibid. vol. ii. 415. Such are the people that we see now forced to abandon a land of which not more than half the cultivable part is in cultivation--a land that abounds in every description of mineral wealth--and to sell themselves for long years of service, apart from wives, children, and friends, to be employed in the most unhealthful of all pursuits, the cultivation of sugar in the Mauritius, and the Sandwich Islands, and among the swamps of British Guiana, and Jamaica, and for a reward of four or five rupees ($2 to $2.50) per month. What was their condition in the Mauritius is thus shown by an intelligent and honest visitor of the island in 1838:-- "After the passage of the act abolishing slavery, an arrangement was sanctioned by the Colonial Government, for the introduction of a great number of Indian labourers into the colony. They were engaged at five rupees, equal to ten shillings, a month, for five years, with also one pound of rice, a quarter of a pound of dhall, or grain, a kind of pulse, and one ounce of butter, of ghee, daily. But for every day they were absent from their work they were to return two days to their masters, who retained one rupee per month, to pay an advance made of six months' wages, and to defray the expense of their passage. If these men came into Port Louis to complain of their masters, they were lodged in the Bagne prison, till their masters were summoned. The masters had a great advantage before the magistrates over their servants: the latter being foreigners, but few of them could speak French, and they had no one to assist them in pleading their cause. They universally represented themselves as having been deceived with respect to the kind of labour to be exacted from them. But perhaps the greatest evil attendant on their introduction into the Mauritius was the small proportion of females imported with them, only about two hundred being brought with upward of ten thousand men. It was evident that unless the system of employing them were closely watched, there was a danger that it might ultimately grow into another species of slavery."[113] We see thus that while the females of India are deprived of all power to employ themselves in the lighter labour of manufacture, the men are forced to emigrate, leaving behind their wives and daughters, to support themselves as best they may. The same author furnishes an account of the Indian convicts that had been transported to the island, as follows:-- "Among the Indian convicts working on the road, we noticed one wearing chains; several had a slight single ring round the ankle. They are lodged in huts with flat roofs, or in other inferior dwellings, near the road. There are about seven hundred of them in the island. What renders them peculiarly objects of sympathy is, that they were sent here for life, and no hope of any remission of sentence is held out to them for good conduct. Their's is a hopeless bondage; and though it is said by some that they are not hard worked, yet they are generally, perhaps constantly, breaking stones and mending the road, and in a tropical sun. There are among them persons who were so young when transported that, in their offences, they could only be looked on as the dupes of those that were older; and many of them bear good characters."[114] At the date to which these passages refer there was a dreadful famine in India; but, "during the prevalence of this famine," as we are told,-- "Rice was going every hour out of the country. 230,371 bags of 164 pounds each--making 37,780,844 lbs.--were exported from Calcutta. Where? To the Mauritius, to feed the kidnapped Coolies. Yes: to feed the men who had been stolen from the banks of the Ganges and the hills adjacent, and dragged from their native shore, under pretence of going to one of the Company's villages, to grow in the island of Mauritius what they might have grown in abundance upon their own fertile, but over-taxed land. The total amount of rice exported from Calcutta, during the famine in 1838, was 151,923,696 lbs., besides 13,722,408 lbs. of other edible grains, which would have fed and kept alive all those who perished that year. Wives might have been saved to their husbands, babes to their mothers, friends to their friends; villages might still have been peopled; a sterile land might have been restored to verdure. Freshness and joy and the voices of gladness, might have been there. Now, all is stillness, and desolation, and death. Yet we are told we have nothing to do with India."[115] The nation that exports raw produce _must_ exhaust its land, and then it _must_ export its men, who fly from famine, leaving the women and children to perish behind them. By aid of continued Coolie immigration the export of sugar from the Mauritius has been doubled in the last sixteen years, having risen from 70 to 140 millions of pounds. Sugar is therefore very cheap, and the foreign competition is thereby driven from the British market. "Such conquests," however, says, very truly, the London _Spectator_-- "Don't always bring profit to the conqueror; nor does production itself prove prosperity. Competition for the possession of a field may be carried so far as to reduce prices below prime cost; and it is clear from the notorious facts of the West Indies--from the change of property, from the total unproductiveness of much property still--that the West India production of sugar has been carried on, not only without replacing capital, but with a constant sinking of capital." The "free" Coolie and the "free negro" of Jamaica, have been urged to competition for the sale of sugar, and they seem likely to perish together; but compensation for this is found in the fact that-- "Free-trade has, in reducing the prices of commodities for home consumption, enabled the labourer to devote a greater share of his income toward purchasing clothing and luxuries, and has increased the home trade to an enormous extent."[116] What effect this reduction of "the prices of commodities for home consumption" has had upon the poor Coolie, may be judged from the following passage:-- "I here beheld, for the first time, a class of beings of whom we have heard much, and for whom I have felt considerable interest. I refer to the Coolies imported by the British government to take the place of the _faineant_ negroes, when the apprenticeship system was abolished. Those that I saw were wandering about the streets, dressed rather tastefully, but always meanly, and usually carrying over their shoulder a sort of _chiffonier's_ sack, in which they threw whatever refuse stuff they found in the streets or received as charity. Their figures are generally superb; and their Eastern costume, to which they adhere as far as their poverty will permit of any clothing, sets off their lithe and graceful forms to great advantage. Their faces are almost uniformly of the finest classic mould, and illuminated by pairs of those dark swimming and propitiatory eyes, which exhaust the language of tenderness and passion at a glance. "But they are the most inveterate mendicants on the island. It is said that those brought from the interior of India are faithful and efficient workmen, while those from Calcutta and its vicinity are good for nothing. Those that were prowling about the streets of Spanish-town and Kingston, I presume, were of the latter class, for there is not a planter on the island, it is said, from whom it would be more difficult to get any work than from one of these. They subsist by begging altogether: they are not vicious, nor intemperate, nor troublesome particularly, except as beggars. In that calling they have a pertinacity before which a Northern mendicant would grow pale. They will not be denied. They will stand perfectly still and look through a window from the street for a quarter of an hour, if not driven away, with their imploring eyes fixed upon you, like a stricken deer, without saying a word or moving a muscle. They act as if it were no disgrace for them to beg, as if the least indemnification which they are entitled to expect, for the outrage perpetrated upon them in bringing them from their distant homes to this strange island, is a daily supply of their few and cheap necessities, as they call for them. "I confess that their begging did not leave upon my mind the impression produced by ordinary mendicancy. They do not look as if they ought to work. I never saw one smile, and though they showed no positive suffering, I never saw one look happy. Each face seemed to be constantly telling the unhappy story of their woes, and like fragments of a broken mirror, each reflecting in all its hateful proportions the national outrage of which they are the victims."[117] The slave trade has taken a new form, the mild and gentle Hindoo having taken the place of the barbarous and fierce African; and this trade is likely to continue so long as it shall be held to be the chief object of the government of a Christian people to secure to its people cheap cotton and sugar, without regard to the destruction of life of which that cheapness is the cause. The people of England send to India missionary priests and bishops, but they obtain few converts; nor can it ever be otherwise under a system which tends to destroy the power of association, and thus prevents that diversification of employments that is indispensable to the improvement of physical, moral, intellectual, or political condition. May we not hope that at no very distant day they will arrive at the conclusion that such association is as necessary to the Hindoo as they know it to be to themselves, and that if they desire success in their attempts to bring the followers of Mohammed, or of Brahma, to an appreciation of the doctrines of Christ, they must show that their practice and their teachings are in some degree in harmony with each other? When that day shall come they will be seen endeavouring to remedy the evil they have caused, and permitting the poor Hindoo to obtain establishments in which labour may be combined for the production of iron and of machinery, by aid of which the native cotton may be twisted in the neighbourhood in which it is produced, thus enabling the now unhappy cultivator to exchange directly with his food-producing neighbour, relieved from the necessity for sending his products to a distance, to be brought back again in the form of yarn or cloth, at fifteen or twenty times the price at which he sold it in the form of cotton. That time arrived, they will appreciate the sound good sense contained in the following remarks of Colonel Sleeman:-- "If we had any great establishment of this sort in which Christians could find employment, and the means of religious and secular instruction, thousands of converts would soon flock to them; and they would become vast sources of future improvement in industry, social comfort, municipal institutions, and religion. What chiefly prevents the spread of Christianity in India is the dread of exclusion from caste and all its privileges; and the utter hopelessness of their ever finding any respectable circle of society of the adopted religion, which converts, or would be converts to Christianity, now everywhere feel. Form such circles for them--make the members of these circles happy in the exertion of honest and independent industry--let those who rise to eminence in them feel that they are considered as respectable and as important in the social system as the servants of government, and converts will flock around you from all parts, and from all classes of the Hindoo community. * * * I am persuaded that a dozen such establishments as that of Mr. Thomas Ashton, of Hyde, as described by a physician of Manchester, and noticed in Mr. Baines's admirable work on the Cotton Manufactures of Great Britain, (page 447,) would do more in the way of conversion among the people of India than has ever yet been done by all the religious establishments, or ever will be done by them without some such aid."--Vol. ii. 164. That there is a steady increase in the tendency toward personal servitude, or slavery, in India, no one can doubt who will study carefully the books on that country; and it may not be amiss to inquire on whom rests the responsibility for this state of things. By several of the persons that have been quoted, Messrs. Thompson, Bright, and others, it is charged upon the Company; but none that read the works of Messrs. Campbell and Sleeman can hesitate to believe that the direction is now animated by a serious desire to improve the condition of its poor subjects. Unfortunately, however, the Company is nearly in the condition of the land-holders of Jamaica, and is itself tending toward ruin, because its subjects are limited to agriculture, and because they receive so small a portion of the value of their very small quantity of products. Now, as in the days of _Joshua Gee_, the largest portion of that value remains in England, whose people eat cheap sugar while its producer starves in India. Cheap sugar and cheap cotton are obtained by the sacrifice of the interests of a great nation; and while the policy of England shall continue to look to driving the women and children of India to the labours of the field, and the men to the raising of sugar in the Mauritius, the soil must continue to grow poorer, the people must become more and more enslaved, and the government must find itself more and more dependent for revenue on the power to poison the people of China; and therefore will it be seen that however good may be the intentions of the gentlemen charged with the duties of government, they must find themselves more and more compelled to grind the poor ryot in the hope of obtaining revenue. CHAPTER XIII. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN IRELAND AND SCOTLAND. The government which followed the completion of the Revolution of 1688, pledged itself to discountenance the woollen manufacture of Ireland, with a view to compel the export of raw wool to England, whence its exportation to foreign countries was prohibited; the effect of which was, of course, to enable the English manufacturer to purchase it at his own price. From that period forward we find numerous regulations as to the ports from which alone woollen yarn or cloth might go to England, and the ports of the latter through which it might come; while no effort was spared to induce the people of Ireland to abandon woollens and take to flax. Laws were passed prohibiting the export of Irish cloth and glass to the colonies. By other laws Irish ships were deprived of the benefit of the navigation laws. The fisheries were closed against them. No sugar could be imported from any place but Great Britain, and no drawback was allowed on its exportation to Ireland; and thus was the latter compelled to pay a tax for the support of the British government, while maintaining its own. All other colonial produce was required to be carried first to England, after which it might be shipped to Ireland; and as Irish shipping was excluded from the advantages of the navigation laws, it followed that the voyage of importation was to be made in British ships, manned by British seamen, and owned by British merchants, who were thus authorized to tax the people of Ireland for doing their work, while a large portion of the Irish people were themselves unemployed. While thus prohibiting them from applying themselves to manufactures or trade, every inducement was held out to them to confine themselves to the production of commodities required by the English manufacturers, and wool, hemp, and flax were admitted into England free of duty. We see thus that the system of that day in reference to Ireland looked to limiting the people of that country, as it limited the slaves of Jamaica, and now limits the people of Hindostan, to agriculture alone, and thus depriving the men, the women, and the children of all employment except the labour of the field, and of all opportunity for intellectual improvement, such as elsewhere results from that association which necessarily accompanies improvement in the mechanic arts. During our war of the Revolution, freedom of trade was claimed for Ireland; and as the demand was made at a time when a large portion of her people were under arms as volunteers, the merchants and manufacturers of England, who had so long acted as middlemen for the people of the sister kingdom, found themselves obliged to submit to the removal of some of the restrictions under which the latter had so long remained. Step by step changes were made, until at length, in 1783, Ireland was declared independent, shortly after which duties were imposed on various articles of foreign manufacture, avowedly with the intention of enabling her people to employ some of their surplus labour in converting her own food and wool, and the cotton wool of other countries, into cloth. Thenceforward manufactures and trade made considerable progress, and there was certainly a very considerable tendency toward improvement. Some idea of the condition of the country at that time, and of the vast and lamentable change that has since taken place, may be obtained from the consideration of a few facts connected with the manufacture of books in the closing years of the last century. The copyright laws not extending to Ireland, all books published in England might there be reprinted, and accordingly we find that all the principal English law reports of the day, very many of the earlier ones, and many of the best treatises, as well as the principal novels, travels, and miscellaneous works, were republished in Dublin, as may be seen by an examination of any of our old libraries. The publication of such books implies, of course, a considerable demand for them, and for Ireland herself, as the sale of books in this country was very small indeed, and there was then no other part of the world to which they could go. More books were probably published in Ireland in that day by a single house than are now required for the supply of the whole kingdom. With 1801, however, there came a change. By the Act of Union the copyright laws of England were extended to Ireland, and at once the large and growing manufacture of books was prostrated. The patent laws were also extended to Ireland; and as England had so long monopolized the manufacturing machinery then in use, it was clear that it was there improvements would be made, and that thenceforth the manufactures of Ireland must retrograde. Manchester had the home market, the foreign market, and, to no small extent, that of Ireland open to her; while the manufacturers of the latter were forced to contend for existence, and under the most disadvantageous circumstances, on their own soil. The one could afford to purchase expensive machinery, and to adopt whatever improvements might be made, while the other could not. The natural consequence was, that Irish manufactures gradually disappeared as the Act of Union came into effect. By virtue of its provisions, the duties established by the Irish Parliament for the purpose of protecting the farmers of Ireland in their efforts to bring the loom and the anvil into close proximity with the plough and the harrow, were gradually to diminish, and free trade was to be fully established; or, in other words, Manchester and Birmingham were to have a monopoly of supplying Ireland with cloth and iron. The duty on English woollens was to continue twenty years. The almost prohibitory duties on English calicoes and muslins were to continue until 1808; after which they were to be gradually diminished, until in 1821 they were to cease. Those on cotton yarn were to cease in 1810. The effect of this in diminishing the demand for Irish labour, is seen in the following comparative view of manufactures at the date of the Union, and at different periods in the ensuing forty years, here given:-- Dublin, 1800, Master woollen manufacturers. 91... 1840, 12 " Hands employee............. 4918... " , 602 " Master wool-combers........ 30... 1834, 5 " Hands employed............. 230... " , 63 " Carpet manufacturers....... 13... 1841, 1 " Hands employed............. 720... " none Kilkenny, 1800, Blanket manufacturers...... 56... 1822, 42 " Hands employed............. 3000... 1822, 925 Dublin, 1800, Silk-loom wearers at work.. 2500... 1840, 250 Balbriggan, 1799, Calico looms at work..... 2500... 1841, 226 Wicklow, 1800, Hand-looms at work......... 1000... 1841, none Cork, 1800, Braid weavers.............. 1000... 1834, 40 " Worsted weavers............ 2000... " 90 " Hoosiers................... 300... " 28 " Wool-combers............... 700... " 110 " Cotton weavers............. 2000... " 220 " Linen cheek weavers........ 600... " none " Cotton spinners, bleachers, calico printers....... thousands... " none "For nearly half a century Ireland has had perfectly free trade with the richest country in the world; and what," says the author of a recent work of great ability,-- "Has that free trade done for her? She has even now," he continues, "no employment for her teeming population except upon the land. She ought to have had, and might easily have had, other and various employments, and plenty of it. Are we to believe," says he, "the calumny that the Irish are lazy and won't work? Is Irish human nature different from other human nature? Are not the most laborious of all labourers in London and New York, Irishmen? Are Irishmen inferior in understanding? We Englishmen who have personally known Irishmen, in the army, at the bar, and in the church, know that there is no better head than a disciplined Irish one. But in all these cases that master of industry, the stomach, has been well satisfied. Let an Englishman exchange his bread and beer, and beef, and mutton, for no breakfast, for a lukewarm lumper at dinner, and no supper. With such a diet, how much better is he than an Irishman--a Celt, as he calls him? No, the truth is, that the misery of Ireland is not from the human nature that grows there--it is from England's perverse legislation, past and present."[118] Deprived of all employment, except in the labour of agriculture, land became, of course, the great object of pursuit. "Land is life," had said, most truly and emphatically, Chief Justice Blackburn; and the people had now before them the choice between the occupation of land, _at any rent_, or _starvation_. The lord of the land was thus enabled to dictate his own terms, and therefore it has been that we have heard of the payment of five, six, eight, and even as much as ten pounds per acre. "Enormous rents, low wages, farms of an enormous extent, let by rapacious and indolent proprietors to monopolizing land-jobbers, to be relet by intermediate oppressors, for five times their value, among the wretched starvers on potatoes and water," led to a constant succession of outrages, followed by Insurrection Acts, Arms Acts, and Coercion Acts, when the real remedy was to be found in the adoption of a system that would emancipate the country from the tyranny of the spindle and the loom, and permit the labour of Ireland to find employment at home. That employment could not be had. With the suppression of Irish manufactures the demand for labour had disappeared. An English traveller, describing the state of Ireland in 1834, thirteen years after the free-trade provisions of the Act of Union had come fully into operation, furnishes numerous facts, some of which will now be given, showing that the people were compelled to remain idle, although willing to work at the lowest wages--such wages as could not by any possibility enable them to do more than merely sustain life, and perhaps not even that. CASHEL.--"Wages here only _eightpence a day_, and numbers altogether without employment." CAHIR.--"I noticed, on Sunday, on coming from church, the streets crowded with labourers, with spades and other implements in their hands, standing to be hired; and I ascertained that any number of these men might have been engaged, on constant employment, at _sixpence per day_ without diet." WICKLOW.--"The husband of this woman was a labourer, at _sixpence_ a day, _eighty_ of which sixpences--that is, eighty days' labour--were absorbed in the rent of the cabin." "In another cabin was a decently dressed woman with five children, and her husband was also a labourer at _sixpence a day_. The pig had been taken for rent a few days before." "I found some labourers receiving only _fourpence per day_." KILKENNY.--"Upward of 2000 persons totally without employment." "I visited the factories that used to support 200 men with their families, and how many men did I find at work? ONE MAN! In place of finding men occupied, I saw them in scores, like spectres, walking about, and lying about the mill. I saw immense piles of goods completed, but for which there was no sale. I saw heaps of blankets, and I saw every loom idle. As for the carpets which had excited the jealousy and the fears of Kidderminster, not one had been made for seven months. To convey an idea of the destitution of these people, I mention, that when an order recently arrived for the manufacture of as many blankets for the police as would have kept the men at work for a few days, bonfires were lighted about the country--not bonfires to communicate insurrection, but to evince joy that a few starving men were about to earn bread to support their families. Nevertheless, we are told that Irishmen will not work at home." CALLEN.--"In this town, containing between four and five thousand inhabitants, at least one thousand are without regular employment, six or seven hundred entirely destitute, and there are upward of two hundred mendicants in the town--persons incapable of work."--_Inglis's Ireland_ in 1834. Such was the picture everywhere presented to the eye of this intelligent traveller. Go where he might, he found hundreds anxious for employment, yet no employment could be had, unless they could travel to England, there to spend _weeks_ in travelling round the country in quest of _days_ of employment, the wages for which might enable them to pay their rent at home. "The Celt," says the _Times_, "is the hewer of wood and the drawer of water to the Saxon; The great works of this country," it continues "depend on _cheap labour_." The labour of the slave is always low in price. The people of Ireland were interdicted all employment but in the cultivation of the land, and men, women, and children were forced to waste more labour than would have paid twenty times over for all the British manufactures they could purchase. They were passing rapidly toward barbarism, and for the sole reason that they were denied all power of association for any useful purpose. What was the impression produced by their appearance on the mind of foreigners may be seen by the following extract from the work of a well-known and highly intelligent German traveller:-- "A Russian peasant, no doubt, is the slave of a harder master, but still he is fed and housed to his content, and no trace of mendicancy is to be seen in him. The Hungarians are certainly not among the best-used people in the world; still, what fine wheaten bread and what wine has even the humblest among them for his daily fare! The Hungarian would scarcely believe it, if he were to be told there was a country in which the inhabitants must content themselves with potatoes every alternate day in the year. "Servia and Bosnia are reckoned among the most wretched countries of Europe, and certainly the appearance of one of their villages has little that is attractive about it; but at least the people, if badly housed, are well clad. We look not for much luxury or comfort among the Tartars of the Crimea; we call them poor and barbarous, but, good heavens! they look at least like human creatures. They have a national costume, their houses are habitable, their orchards are carefully tended, and their gayly harnessed ponies are mostly in good condition. An Irishman has nothing national about him but his rags,--his habitation is without a plan, his domestic economy without rule or law. We have beggars and paupers among us, but they form at least an exception; whereas, in Ireland, beggary or abject poverty is the prevailing rule. The nation is one of beggars, and they who are above beggary seem to form the exception. "The African negroes go naked, but then they have a tropical sun to warm them. The Irish are little removed from a state of nakedness; and their climate, though not cold, is cool, and extremely humid. * * * "There are nations of slaves, but they have, by long custom, been made unconscious of the yoke of slavery. This is not the case with the Irish, who have a strong feeling of liberty within them, and are fully sensible of the weight of the yoke they have to bear. They are intelligent enough to know the injustice done them by the distorted laws of their country; and while they are themselves enduring the extreme of poverty, they have frequently before them, in the manner of life of their English landlords, a spectacle of the most refined luxury that human ingenuity ever invented."--_Kohl's Travels in Ireland_. It might be thought, however, that Ireland was deficient in the capital required for obtaining the machinery of manufacture to enable her people to maintain competition with her powerful neighbour. We know, however, that previous to the Union she had that machinery; and from the date of that arrangement, so fraudulently brought about, by which was settled conclusively the destruction of Irish manufactures, the _annual_ waste of labour was greater than the whole amount of capital then employed in the cotton and woollen manufactures of England. From that date the people of Ireland were thrown, from year to year, more into the hands of middlemen, who accumulated fortunes that they _would_ not invest in the improvement of land, and _could_ not, under the system which prostrated manufactures, invest in machinery of any kind calculated to render labour productive; and all their accumulations were sent therefore to England for investment. An official document published by the British government shows that the transfers of British securities from England to Ireland, that is to say, the investment of Irish capital in England, in the thirteen years following the final adoption of free trade in 1821, amounted to as many millions of pounds sterling; and thus was Ireland forced to contribute cheap labour and cheap capital to building up "the great works of Britain." Further, it was provided by law that whenever the poor people of a neighbourhood contributed to a saving fund, the amount should not be applied in any manner calculated to furnish local employment, but should be transferred for investment in the British funds. The landlords fled to England, and their rent followed them. The middlemen sent their capital to England. The trader or the labourer that could accumulate a little capital saw it sent to England; and he was then compelled to follow it. Such is the history of the origin of the present abandonment of Ireland by its inhabitants. The form in which rents, profits, and savings, as well as taxes, went to England, was that of raw products of the soil, to be consumed abroad, yielding nothing to be returned to the land, which was of course impoverished. The average export of grain in the first three years following the passage of the Act of Union was about 300,000 quarters, but as the domestic market gradually disappeared, the export of raw produce increased, until, at the close of twenty years it exceeded a million of quarters; and at the date of Mr. Inglis's visit it had reached an average of two and a half millions, or 22,500,000 of our bushels. The poor people were, in fact, selling their soil to pay for cotton and woollen goods that they should have manufactured themselves, for coal which abounded among themselves, for iron, all the materials of which existed at home in great profusion, and for a small quantity of tea, sugar, and other foreign commodities, while the amount required to pay rent to absentees, and interest to mortgagees, was estimated at more than thirty millions of dollars. Here was a drain that no nation could bear, however great its productive power; and the whole of it was due to the system which forbade the application of labour, talent, or capital to any thing but agriculture, and thus forbade advance in civilization. The inducements to remain at home steadily diminished. Those who could live without labour found that society had changed; and they fled to England, France, or Italy. Those who desired to work, and felt that they were qualified for something beyond mere manual labour, fled to England or America; and thus by degrees was the unfortunate country depleted of every thing that could render it a home in which to remain, while those who could not fly remained to be, as the _Times_ so well describes it, mere "hewers of wood and drawers of water to the Saxon," happy when a full-grown man could find employment at _sixpence a day_, and that, too, without food. "Throughout the west and south of Ireland," said an English traveller in 1842, four years before the exhaustion of the soil had produced disease among the potatoes-- "The traveller is haunted by the face of the _popular starvation_. It is not the exception--it is _the condition_ of the people. In this fairest and richest of countries, men are suffering and _starving by millions_. There are thousands of them, at this minute, stretched in the sunshine at their cabin doors with _no work_, scarcely any food, no hope seemingly. Strong countrymen are lying in bed, '_for the hunger_'--because a man lying on his back does not need so much food as a person afoot. Many of them have torn up the unripe potatoes from their little gardens, and to exist now must look to winter, when they shall have to suffer starvation and cold too."--_Thackeray_. "Everywhere," said the _Quarterly Review_, "throughout all parts, even in the best towns, and in Dublin itself, you will meet men and boys--not dressed, not covered--but hung round with a collection of rags of unrivalled variety, squalidity, and filth--walking dunghills. * * * No one ever saw an English scarecrow with such rags." The difference in the condition of these poor people and that of the slave--even the slave of Jamaica at that day--consisted in this, that the negro slave was worth buying, whereas the others were not; and we know well that the man who pays a good price for a commodity, attaches to it a value that induces him to give some care to its preservation; whereas he cares nothing for another that he finds himself forced to accept. "Starving by millions," as they are here described, death was perpetually separating husbands and wives, parents and children, while to the survivors remained no hope but that of being enabled at some time or other to fly to another land in which they might be permitted to sell their labour for food sufficient to support life. The existence of such a state of things was, said the advocates of the system which looks to converting all the world outside of England into one great farm, to be accounted for by the fact that the population was too numerous for the land, and yet a third of the surface, including the richest lands in the kingdom, was lying unoccupied and waste. "Of single counties," said an English writer, "Mayo, with a population of 389,000, and a rental of only £300,000, has an area of 1,364,000 acres, of which 800,000 are waste! No less than 470,000 acres, being very nearly equal to the whole extent of surface now under cultivation, are declared to be reclaimable. Galway, with a population of 423,000, and a valued rental of £433,000, has upward of 700,000 acres of waste, 410,000 of which are reclaimable! Kerry, with a population of 293,000, has an area of 1,186,000 acres--727,000 being waste, and 400,000 of them reclaimable! Even the Union of Glenties, Lord Monteagle's _ne plus ultra_ of redundant population, has an area of 245,000 acres, of which 200,000 are waste, and for the most part reclaimable, to its population of 43,000. While the Barony of Ennis, that abomination of desolation, has 230,000 acres of land to its 5000 paupers--a proportion which, as Mr. Carter, one of the principal proprietors, remarks in his circular advertisement for tenants, 'is at the rate of only one family to 230 acres; so that if but one head of a family were employed to every 230 acres, there need not be a single pauper in the entire district; a proof,' he adds, 'THAT NOTHING BUT EMPLOYMENT IS WANTING TO SET THIS COUNTRY TO RIGHTS!' In which opinion we fully coincide." Nothing but employment _was_ needed, but that could not be found under the system which has caused the annihilation of the cotton manufacture of India, notwithstanding the advantage of having the cotton on the spot, free from all cost for carriage. As in Jamaica, and as in India, the land had been gradually exhausted by the exportation of its products in their rudest state, and the country had thus been drained of capital, a necessary consequence of which was that the labour even of men found no demand, while women and children starved, that the women and children of England might spin cotton and weave cloth that Ireland was too poor to purchase. Bad, however, as was all this, a worse state of things was at hand. Poverty and wretchedness compelled the wretched people to fly in thousands and tens of thousands across the Channel, thus following the capital and the soil that had been transferred to Birmingham and Manchester; and the streets and cellars of those towns, and those of London, Liverpool, and Glasgow, were filled with men, women, and children in a state almost of starvation; while throughout the country, men were offering to perform the farm labour for food alone, and a cry had arisen among the people of England that the labourers were likely to be swamped by these starving Irishmen: to provide against which it was needed that the landlords of Ireland should be compelled to support their own poor, and forthwith an act of Parliament was passed for that purpose. Thence arose, of course, an increased desire to rid the country of the men, women, and children whose labour could not be sold, and who could therefore pay no rent. The "Crowbar Brigade" was therefore called into more active service, as will be seen by the following account of their labours in a single one of the "Unions" established under the new poor-law system, which in many cases took the whole rent of the land for the maintenance of those who had been reduced to pauperism by the determination of the people of Manchester and Birmingham to continue the colonial system under which Ireland had been ruined. "In Galway Union, recent accounts declared the number of poor evicted, and their homes levelled within the last two years, to equal the numbers in Kilrush--4000 families and 20,000 human beings are said to have been here also thrown upon the road, houseless and homeless. I can readily believe the statement, for to me some parts of the country appeared like an enormous graveyard--the numerous gables of the unroofed dwellings seemed to be gigantic tombstones. They were, indeed, records of decay and death far more melancholy than the grave can show. Looking on them, the doubt rose in my mind, am I in a civilized country? Have we really a free constitution? Can such scenes be paralleled in Siberia or Caffraria?" A single case described in a paper recently published by Mr. Dickens in his "_Household Words_," will convey to the reader some idea of an eviction, that may be taken as a specimen, and perhaps a fair one, of the _fifty thousand_ evictions that took place in the single year 1849, and of the hundreds of thousands that have taken place in the last six years. "Black piles of peat stood on the solitary ground, ready after a summer's cutting and drying. Presently, patches of cultivation presented themselves; plots of ground raised on beds, each a few feet wide, with intervening trenches to carry off the boggy water, where potatoes had grown, and small fields where grew more ragwort than grass, enclosed by banks cast up and tipped here and there with a brier or a stone. It was the husbandry of misery and indigence. The ground had already been freshly manured by sea-weeds, but the village, where was it? Blotches of burnt-ground, scorched heaps of rubbish, and fragments of blackened walls, alone were visible. Garden plots were trodden down and their few bushes rent up, or hung with tatters of rags. The two horsemen, as they hurried by, with gloomy visages, uttered no more than the single word--EVICTION!" The scenes that had taken place at the destruction of that village, are thus described to the author of the sad work, by a poor servant:-- "Oh, bless your honour! If you had seen that poor frantic woman when the back of the cabin fell and buried her infant, where she thought she had laid it safe for a moment while she flew to part her husband and a soldier who had struck the other children with the flat of his sword and bade them troop off. Oh, but your honour it was a killing sight! * * * I could not help thinking of the poor people at Rathbeg when the soldiers and police cried, 'Down with them! down with them even to the ground!'--and then the poor little cabins came down all in fire and smoke, amid the howls and cries of the poor creatures. Oh, it was a fearful sight, your honour--it was indeed--to see the poor women hugging their babies, and the houses where they were born burning in the wind. It was dreadful to see the old bed-ridden man lie on the ground among the few bits of furniture, and groan to his gracious God above! Oh, your honour, you never saw such a sight, or--you--sure a--it would never have been done." This is certainly an awful picture of the slavery resulting from compelling a whole nation to devote itself to agriculture, and thus annihilating the power of association--from compelling a whole people to forego all the advantages resulting from proximity to market for the sale of their products or the purchase of manure--and from compelling men, women, and children to be idle, when they would desire to be employed. In reading it, we are forcibly reminded of the _razzias_ of the little African kings, who, anxious for a fresh supply of slaves, collect their troops together and invade the neighbouring territories, where they enact scenes corresponding exactly with the one here described. In Africa, however, the slave is fed by those who have burned and destroyed his house and his farm; but in Ireland, as labour is valueless, he is turned into the roads or the grave-yards to die of famine, or of pestilence. And yet, even now, the _Times_ asks the question-- "How are the people to be fed and employed? That is the question which still baffles an age that can transmit a message round the world in a moment of time, and point out the locality of a planet never yet seen. There is the question which founders both the bold and the wise." Up to this time there had been repeated cases of partial famine, but now the nation was startled by the news of the almost total failure of the crop of potatoes, the single description of food upon which the people of Ireland had been reduced to depend. Constant cropping of the soil, returning to it none of the manure, because of the necessity for exporting almost the whole of its products, had produced disease in the vegetable world--precisely as the want of proper nourishment produces it in the animal world--and now a cry of famine rang throughout the land. The poor-houses were everywhere filled, while the roads, and the streets, and the grave-yards were occupied by the starving and the naked, the dying and the dead; and the presses of England were filled with denunciations of English and Irish landholders, who desired to make food dear, while men, women, and children were perishing by hundreds of thousands for want of food. Thus far, Ireland had been protected in the market of England, as some small compensation for the sacrifice she had made of her manufacturing interests; but now, small as has been the boon, it was to be withdrawn, precisely as we see to have been the case with the poor people of Jamaica. Like them, the Irish had become poor, and their trade had ceased to be of value, although but seventy years before they had been England's _best_ customers. The system had exhausted all the foreign countries with which England had been permitted to maintain what is denominated free trade--India, Portugal, Turkey, the West Indies, and Ireland herself--and it had become necessary to make an effort to obtain markets in the only prosperous countries of the world, those which had to a greater or less extent placed the consumer by the side of the producer, to wit--this country, France, Belgium, Germany, and Russia--and the mode of accomplishing this was that of offering them the same freedom of trade in food by which Ireland had been ruined. The farmers were everywhere invited to exhaust their soil by sending its products to England to be consumed; and the corn-laws were repealed for the purpose of enabling them to impoverish themselves by entering into competition with the starving Irishman, who was thus at once deprived of the market of England, as by the Act of Union he had been deprived of his own. The cup of wretchedness was before well nigh full, but it was now filled. The price of food fell, and the labourer was ruined, for the whole product of his land would scarcely pay his rent. The landlord was ruined, for he could collect no rents, and he was at the same time liable for the payment of enormous taxes for the maintenance of his poor neighbours. His land was encumbered with mortgages and settlements, created when food was high, and he could pay no interest; and now a law was passed, by aid of which property could be summarily disposed of at public sale, and the proceeds distributed among those who had legal claims upon it. The landholder of Jamaica, exhausted by the system, had had his property taken from him at a price fixed by Parliament, and the proceeds applied to the discharge of debts incurred to his English agents, and now the same Parliament provided for the transfer of Irish property with a view to the payment of the same class of debts. The impoverished landholder now experienced the same fate that had befallen his poor tenant, and from that date to this, famine and pestilence, levellings and evictions, have been the order of the day. Their effect has everywhere been to drive the poor people from the land, and its consequences are seen in the fact that the population numbered, in 1850, _one million six hundred and fifty-nine thousand less than it did in_ 1840; while the starving population of the towns had largely increased. The county of Cork had diminished 222,000, while Dublin had grown in numbers 22,000. Galway had lost 125,000, while the city had gained 7422. Connaught had lost 414,000, while Limerick and Belfast had gained 30,000. The number of inhabited houses had fallen from 1,328,000 to 1,047,000, or more than twenty per cent. Announcing these startling facts, the London _Times_ stated that "_for a whole generation man had been a drug in Ireland, and population a nuisance_." The "inexhaustible Irish supply had," as it continued, "kept down the price of English labour," but this cheapness of labour had "contributed vastly to the improvement and power" of England, and largely to "the enjoyment of those who had money to spend." Now, however, a change appeared to be at hand, and it was to be feared that the prosperity of England, based as it had been on cheap Irish labour, might be interfered with, as famine and pestilence, evictions and emigration, were thinning out the Celts who had so long, as it is said, been "hewers of wood and drawers of water for the Saxon." Another of the advocates of the system which has exhausted and ruined Ireland, and is now transferring its land to the men who have enriched themselves by acting as middlemen between the producers and consumers of the world, rejoicing in the great number of those who had fled from their native soil to escape the horrors of starvation and pestilence, declares that this is to be regarded as the joyful side of the case. "What," it asks, "Will follow? This great good, among others--that _the stagnant weight of unemployed population_ in these insulated realms is never likely again to accumulate to the dangerous amount which there was sometimes cause to apprehend that, from unforeseen revulsions in industry or foreign trade, it might have done. A natural vent is now so thoroughly opened, and so certain to grow wider and clearer everyday, that the overflow will pass off whenever a moderate degree of pressure recurs. Population, skill, and capital, also, will no longer wait in consternation till they are half spent with watching and fear. The way is ready. They will silently shift their quarters when the competition or depression here becomes uncomfortable. Every family has already friends or acquaintances who have gone before them over sea. Socially, our insulation as a people is proved, by the census of 1851, to be at an end."--_Daily News_. The _Times_, too, rejoices in the prospect that the resources of Ireland will now probably be developed, as the Saxon takes the place of the Celt, who has so long hewn the wood and drawn the water for his Saxon masters. "Prosperity and happiness may," as it thinks, "Some day reign over that beautiful island. Its fertile soil, its rivers and lakes, its water-power, its minerals, and other materials for the wants and luxuries of man, may one day be developed; but all appearances are against the belief that this will ever happen in the days of the Celt. That tribe will soon fulfil the great law of Providence which seems to enjoin and reward the union of races. It will mix with the Anglo-American, and be known no more as a jealous and separate people. Its present place will be occupied by the more mixed, more docile, and more serviceable race, which has long borne the yoke of sturdy industry in this island, which can submit to a master and obey the law. This is no longer a dream, for it is a fact now in progress, and every day more apparent." Commenting upon the view thus presented, an American journalist most truly says-- "There is a cold-blooded atrocity in the spirit of these remarks for which examples will be sought in vain, except among the doctors of the free-trade school. Naturalists have learned to look with philosophical indifference upon the agonies of a rabbit or a mouse expiring in an exhausted receiver, but it requires long teaching from the economists before men's hearts can be so steeled, that after pumping out all the sustenance of vitality from one of the fairest islands under the sun, they can discourse calmly upon its depopulation as proof of the success of the experiment, can talk with bitter irony of 'that _strange_ region of the earth where such a people, affectionate and hopeful, genial and witty, industrious and independent, was produced and _could not stay_,' and can gloat in the anticipation that prosperity and happiness may some day reign over that beautiful island, and its boundless resources for the wants and luxuries of man be developed, not for the Celt, but 'for a more mixed, more docile, and more serviceable race, which can submit to a master and obey the law.'"--_Albany Journal_. The _Times_ rejoices that the place of the Celt is in future to be occupied by cattle, as sheep already occupy the place of the Highlander expelled from the land in which, before Britain undertook to underwork all other nations and thus secure a monopoly for "the workshop of the world," his fathers were as secure in their rights as was the landowner himself. Irish journals take a different view of the prospect. They deprecate the idea of the total expulsion of the native race, and yet they fear that "There is no doubt that in a few years more, if some stop is not put to the present outpouring of the people to America, and latterly to Australia, there will not be a million of the present race of inhabitants to be found within the compass of the four provinces." "No thoughts of the land of their birth," it continues, "seems to enter their minds, although the Irish people have been proverbial for their attachment to their country."--_Connaught Western Star_. A recent journal informs us that "The Galway papers are full of the most deplorable accounts of wholesale evictions, or rather exterminations, in that miserable country. The tenantry are turned out of the cottages by scores at a time. As many as 203 men, women, and children have been driven upon the roads and ditches by way of one day's work, and have now no resource but to beg their bread in desolate places, or to bury their griefs, in many instances for ever, within the walls of the Union workhouse. Land agents direct the operation. The work is done by a large force of police and soldiery. Under the protection of the latter, 'the Crowbar Brigade' advances to the devoted township, takes possession of the houses, such as they are, and, with a few turns of the crowbar and a few pulls at a rope, bring down the roof, and leave nothing but a tottering chimney, if even that. The sun that rose on a village sets on a desert; the police return to their barracks, and the people are nowhere to be found, or are vainly watching from some friendly covert for the chance of crouching once more under their ruined homes. "What to the Irish heart is more painful than even the large amount and stern method of the destruction, is that the authors this time are Saxon strangers. It is a wealthy London company that is invading the quiet retreats of Connemara, and robbing a primitive peasantry of its last hold on the earth; The Law Life Assurance Company having advanced, we believe, £240,000 on the Martin estates, has now become the purchaser under the Encumbered Estates Acts, and is adopting these summary but usual measures to secure the forfeited pledge. That gentlemen, many of whom have never set foot in Ireland, and who are wealthy enough to lend a quarter of a million of money, should exact the last penny from a wretched peasantry who had no hand, or voice in the transaction which gave them new masters, seems utterly intolerable to the native Irish reason." With the growth of the value of land, man has always become free. With the decline in its value, man has always become enslaved. If we desire to find the cause of the enormous destruction of life in Ireland, even in this day of boasted civilization--if we desire to find the cause of the eviction of tenant and landlord, and the decline in the value of land, we need scarcely look beyond the following paragraph:-- "The cotton manufacture of Dublin, which employed 14,000 operatives, has been destroyed; the 3400 silk-looms of the Liberty have been destroyed; the stuff and serge manufacture, which employed 1491 operatives, have been destroyed; the calico-looms of Balbriggan have been destroyed; the flannel manufacture of Rathdrum has been destroyed; the blanket manufacture of Kilkenny has been destroyed; the camlet trade of Bandon, which produced £100,000 a year, has been destroyed; the worsted and stuff manufactures of Waterford have been destroyed; the rateen and frieze manufactures of Carrick-on-Suir have been destroyed. One business alone survives! One business alone thrives and flourishes, and dreads no bankruptcy! That fortunate business--which the Union Act has not struck down, but which the Union Act has stood by--which the absentee drain has not slackened, but has stimulated--which the drainage Acts and navigation laws of the Imperial Senate have not deadened but invigorated--that favoured, and privileged, and patronized business is the Irish coffin-maker's."[119] To the separation of the consumer from the producer resulting from the adoption of the system which has for its object the establishment of a monopoly of the machinery of manufacture for the world, are due the exhaustion of Ireland, the ruin of its landholders, the starvation of its people, and the degradation in the eyes of the world of the country which has furnished to the continent its best soldiers, and to the empire not only its most industrious and intelligent labourers, but also its Burke, its Grattan, its Sheridan, and its Wellington. And yet we find the _Times_ rejoicing at the gradual disappearance of the native population, and finding in "The abstraction of the Celtic race at the rate of a quarter of a million a year, a surer remedy for _the inveterate Irish disease_, than any human wit could have imagined." The "inveterate Irish disease" here spoken of is a total absence of demand for labour, resulting from the unhappy determination of the people of England to maintain the monopoly of the power to manufacture for the world. The sure remedy for this is found in famines, pestilences, and expatriation, the necessary results of the exhaustion of the land which follows the exportation of its raw products. A stronger confirmation of the destructive character of such a course of policy than is contained in the following paragraph could scarcely be imagined:-- "When the Celt has crossed the Atlantic, he begins for the first time in his life to consume the manufactures of this country, and indirectly to contribute to its customs. We may possibly live to see the day when the chief product of Ireland will be cattle, and English and Scotch the majority of her population. The nine or ten millions of Irish, who by that time will have settled in the United States, cannot be less friendly to England, and will certainly be much better customers to her than they now are."--London _Times_. When the Celt leaves Ireland he leaves an almost purely agricultural country, and in such countries man generally approaches nearly to the condition of a slave. When he comes here he comes to a country in which to some little extent the plough and the loom have been enabled to come together; and here he becomes a freeman and a customer of England. The nation that commences by exporting raw products must end by exporting men; and if we desire evidence of this, we need only look to the following figures, furnished by the last four censuses of Ireland:-- 1821........ 6,801,827 1831........ 7,767,401----Increase, 965,574 1841........ 8,175,124----Increase, 407,723 1851........ 6,515,794----Decrease, 1,659,330 To what causes may this extraordinary course of events be attributed? Certainly not to any deficiency of land, for nearly one-third of the whole surface, including millions of acres of the richest soils of the kingdom, remains in a state of nature. Not to original inferiority of the soil in cultivation, for it has been confessedly among the richest in the empire. Not to a deficiency of mineral ores or fuel, for coal abounds, and iron ores of the richest kind, as well as those of other metals, exist in vast profusion. Not to any deficiency in the physical qualities of the Irishman, for it is an established fact that he is capable of performing far more labour than the Englishman, the Frenchman, or the Belgian. Not to a deficiency of intellectual ability, for Ireland has given to England her most distinguished soldiers and statesmen; and we have in this country everywhere evidence that the Irishman is capable of the highest degree of intellectual improvement. Nevertheless, while possessed of every advantage that nature could give him, we find the Irishman at home a slave to the severest taskmasters, and reduced to a condition of poverty and distress, such as is exhibited in no other portion of the civilized world. No choice is now left him but between expatriation and starvation, and therefore it is that we see him everywhere abandoning the home of his fathers, to seek elsewhere that subsistence which Ireland, rich as she is in soil and in her minerals, in her navigable rivers, and in her facilities of communication with the world, can no longer afford him. That the process of eviction is still continued on an extensive scale is shown by the following extracts from Sir Francis Head's work on Ireland, just issued from the press:-- "Here almost immediately I first met with that afflicting spectacle, or rather spectre, that almost without intermission haunted me through the whole remainder of my tour, namely, stout stone-built cabins; unroofed for the purpose of evicting therefrom their insolvent tenants."--P. 110 "On conversing with the master, I ascertained from him that Lord Lucan's evictions have ceased, but that Lord Erne evicted on Saturday last."[120]--P. 115 "'Is this system of eviction,' said I to the driver, pointing to a small cluster of unroofed cabins we were passing at the moment, 'good or bad?' 'Well! yere Arn'r!' he replied, 'ut's good and ut's bad. Ut's good for them that hould large lands, bad for the small. Ut laves nothing for tham but the workhouse.'"--P. 121. The tendency of the system which looks to the exportation of raw produce and the exhaustion of the soil is always toward the consolidation of the land, because the exportation of population, whether from Ireland, India, or Virginia, always follows in the wake of the exportation of food and other raw commodities. "Among the men were only four that could fairly be called 'able-bodied;' each of them told me he had been evicted by Lord Lucan. I asked the master what had become of the rest. His answer was very instructive. 'Most of them,' said he, 'if they can scrape up half-a-crown, go to England, from whence, after some little time, they send from 2s. 6d. to 10s. and, as soon as their families get _that_, they are off to them.' "'Does the father go first?' I thoughtlessly asked. "'Oh, no! we keep _him_ to the last. One daughter went off to England from here a short time ago, and sent 7s. 6d. _That_ took out the mother and another sister. In a few weeks the mother and sister sent enough to get over the remaining two sons and the father. Total of the family, 6.'"--P. 127. In the above passage we have the equivalent of the exportation of the negro from the Northern Slave States. Husbands and wives, parents and children, are forced to fly from each other, never to meet again unless those who emigrate can save means to send for those who are left behind. "We were now joined by the head-steward--a sedate, highly intelligent, respectable-looking Scotchman, who has been in Ireland thirteen years. He told me that the number of persons that had been ejected was about 10,000, of whom one-tenth were employed by Lord Lucan, who had given most of them cottages." "We passed a cabin, and, closing my umbrella and leaving it on the car, I walked in. "'Will yere Arn'r take a sate?' said a woman about thirty-eight, with a fine, open countenance, her eyes being listlessly fixed on the daylight. "I sat down. On her lap was an infant. Three bare-footed children, as if hatching eggs, sat motionless on the edge of a peat fire, which appeared to be almost touching their naked toes; above the embers was demurely hanging a black pot. Opposite sat, like a bit of gnarled oak, the withered grandmother. The furniture was composed of a dingy-coloured wooden wardrobe, with a few plates on the top, and one bed close to the fire. There was no chimney but the door, on the threshold of which stood, looking exceedingly unhappy, four dripping wet fowls; at the far end of the chamber was a regular dungheap, on which stood an ass. "'Where is your husband, my good woman?' I said to the youngest of the women. "'In England, yere Arn'r,' she replied, 'saking work.'"--P. 132. "Seeking work!" and yet Ireland abounds, in the richest land uncultivated, and mineral wealth untouched, because the system forbids that men should combine their efforts together for the improvement of their common condition. "After trotting on for about a mile, and after I had left Lord Lucan's property, I came as usual to a small village of unroofed cabins, from the stark walls of which, to my astonishment, I saw here and there proceeding a little smoke; and, on approaching it, I beheld a picture I shall not readily forget. The tenants had been all evicted, and yet, dreadful to say, they were there still! the children nestling, and the poor women huddling together, under a temporary lean-to of straw, which they had managed to stick into the interstices of the walls of their ancient homes. "'This is a quare place, yere Arn'r!' said a fine, honest-looking woman, kindly smiling to me, adding, 'Sit down, yere Arn'r!' "One of her four children got up and offered me his stool. "Under another temporary shed I found a tall woman heavy with child, a daughter ahout sixteen, and four younger children--_her_ husband was also in England, 'sakin work.' I entered two or three more of these wretched habitations, around which were the innumerable tiny fields; surrounded by those low tottering stone walls I have already described.* * *--P. 136. "They were really good people, and from what I read in their countenances, I feel confident, that if, instead of distributing among them a few shillings, I had asked them to feed _me_, with the kindest hospitality they would readily have done so, and that with my gold in my pocket I might have slept among them in the most perfect security. "The devotional expressions of the lower class of Irish, and the meekness and resignation with which they bear misfortune or affliction, struck, me very forcibly. 'I haven't aten a bit this blessed day, glory be to God!' said one woman, 'Troth, I've been suffering lhong time from poverty and sickness, glory be to God!' said another. On entering a strange cabin, the common salutation is, 'God save all here!' On passing a gang of comrades at labour, a man often says, 'God bless the work, boys!'"--P. 137. The extirpation of the people results necessarily in the decay of the towns, as is here shown:-- "When my bill came,--for one's bill at an inn, like death, is sure to come,--I asked the waiter what effect the evictions in the neighbourhood had had on the town. "'They have ruined it,' he replied; 'the poor used to support the rich; now that the poor are gone the rich shopkeepers are all failing. Our town is full of empty shops, and, after all, the landlord himself is now being ruined!'"--P. 147. Cheap labour and cheap land are always companions. In Jamaica and India, land, as we have seen, is almost valueless. How it is in Ireland may be seen by the following passage:-- "Adjoining is a similar property of about 10,000 acres, purchased, I was informed, by Captain Houston, a short time ago, at the rate of 2-1/2d. an acre."--P. 153. In a paper recently read before the statistical section of the British Association, it is shown that the estates recently purchased in Ireland by English capital embraced 403,065 acres, and that the purchase money had been £1,095,000, or about £2 15s. ($13.20) per acre, being little more than is paid for farms with very moderate improvements in the new States of the Mississippi Valley. Why land is cheap and labour badly rewarded may easily be seen on a perusal of the following passages:-- "'Chickuns are about 5d. a couple, dooks 10d. A couple of young gaise 10d; when auld, not less than 1s. or 14d.' "'And turkeys?' I asked. "'I can't say; we haven't many of thim in the counthry, and I don't want to tell yere Arn'r a lie. Fish, little or nothing. A large turbot, of 30 lbs. weight, for 3s. Lobsters, a dozen for 4d. Soles, 2d. or 3d. a piece. T'other day I bought a turbot, of 15 lbs. weight, for a gentleman, and I paid 18d. for ut.'"--P. 178. "'What do you pay for your tea and sugar here?' I inquired. "'Very dare, sir,' he replied. 'We pay 5s. for tea, 5d. for brown sugar, and 8d. for white; that is, if we buy a single pound.'"--P.187. The sugar of the labourer of Jamaica exchanges in Manchester for three shillings, of which he receives perhaps one, and he perishes because of the difficulty of obtaining machinery, or clothing. The Hindoo sells his cotton for a penny a pound, and buys it back in the form of cloth at eighteen or twenty pence. The Virginia negro raises tobacco which exchanges for six shillings' worth of commodities, of which he and his owner obtain three pence. The poor Irishman raises chickens which sell in London for shillings, of which he receives pence, and thus a pound of sugar which had yielded the free negro of Jamaica two pence, exchanges in the West of Ireland for a pair of chickens or a dozen lobsters. The reader who may study these facts will readily understand the destructive effects on the value of land and labour resulting from the absence of markets, such as arise naturally where the plough and the loom are permitted, in accordance with the doctrines of Adam Smith, to take their places by the side of each other. More than seventy years since he denounced the system which looked to compelling the exports of raw produce as one productive of infinite injustice, and certainly the histories of Jamaica and Virginia, Ireland and India, since his time, would afford him, were he now present, little reason for a change of opinion. It is common to ascribe the state of things now existing in Ireland to the rapid growth of population; and that in its turn is charged to the account of the potato, the excessive use of which, as Mr. McCulloch informs his readers, has lowered the standard of living and tended to the multiplication of men, women, and children. "The peasantry of Ireland live," as he says, "in miserable mud cabins, without either a window or a chimney, or any thing that can be called furniture," and are distinguished from their fellow labourers across the Channel by their "filth and misery," and hence it is, in his opinion, that they work for low wages. We have here effect substituted for cause. The absence of demand for labour causes wages to be low, and those wages will procure nothing but mud cabins and potatoes. It is admitted everywhere throughout the continent of Europe that the introduction of the potato has tended greatly to the improvement of the condition of the people; but then, there is no portion of the continent in which it is used, where it constitutes an essential part of the governmental policy to deprive millions of people of all mode of employment except agriculture, and thus placing those millions at such a distance from market that the chief part of their labour and its products is lost in the effort to reach that market, and their land is exhausted because of the impossibility of returning to the soil any portion of the crop yielded by it. Commercial centralization produces all these effects. It looks to the destruction of the value of labour and land, and to the enslavement of man. It tends to the division of the whole population into two classes, separated by an impassable gulf--the mere labourer and the land-owner. It tends to the destruction of the power of association for any purpose of improvement, whether by the making of roads or by the founding of schools, and of course to the prevention of the growth of towns, as we see to have been the case with Jamaica, so barbarous in this respect when compared with Martinique or Cuba, islands whose governments have not looked to the perpetual divorce of the hammer and the harrow. The decay of towns in Ireland, subsequent to the Union, led to absenteeism, and thus added to the exhaustion of the land, because Irish wheat was now needed to pay not only for English cloth but for English services; and the more the centralization resulting from absenteeism, the greater necessarily was the difficulty of maintaining the productive powers of the soil. Mr. McCulloch, however, assures his readers that "it is not easy to imagine any grounds for pronouncing the expenditure of the rent at home "more beneficial" to the country than if it had been expended abroad. (_Principles_, 157.) Another distinguished political economist says-- "Many persons, also, perplexed by the consideration that all the commodities which are exported as remittances of the absentee's income are exports for which no return is obtained; that they are as much lost to this country as if they were a tribute paid to a foreign state, or even as if they were periodically thrown into the sea. This is unquestionably true; but it must be recollected that whatever is unproductively consumed, is, by the very terms of the proposition, destroyed, without producing any return"--_Senior's Political Economy_, 160. This view is, as the reader will see, based upon the idea of the total destruction of the commodities consumed. Were it even correct, it would still follow that there had been transferred from Ireland to England a demand for services of a thousand kinds, tending to cause a rise in the price of labour in the one and a fall in the other;--but if it were altogether incorrect, it would then follow, necessarily, that the loss to the country _would_ be as great as if the remittances were "a tribute paid to a foreign state, or even as if they were periodically thrown into the sea." That it is altogether incorrect the reader may readily satisfy himself. Man consumes much, but he destroys nothing. In eating food he is merely acting as a machine for preparing the elements of which it is composed for future production; and the more he can take out of the land the more he can return to it, and the more rapid will be the improvement in the productive power of the soil. If the market be at hand, he can take hundreds of bushels of turnips, carrots, or potatoes, or tons of hay, from an acre of land, and he can vary the character of his culture from year to year, and the more he borrows from the great bank the more he can repay to it, the more he can improve his mind and his cultivation, and the more readily he can exchange for improved machinery by aid of which to obtain still increased returns. If, however, the market be distant, he must raise only those things that will bear carriage, and which from their small yield command a high price, and thus is he limited in his cultivation, and the more he is limited the more rapidly he exhausts his land, the less is his power to obtain roads, to have association with his fellow-men, to obtain books, to improve his mode of thought, to make roads, or to purchase machinery. Such is the case even when he is compelled to sell and buy in distant markets, but still worse is it when, as in the case of the rent of the absentee, nothing is returned to the land, for then production diminishes without a corresponding diminution of the rent, and the poor cultivator is more and more thrown upon the mercy of the land-owner or his agent, and becomes, as we see to have been the case in Jamaica and India, practically a slave. This state of things has in all countries been followed by a diminution of population resulting from starvation or from exportation; and hence it is that we see the destruction of life in Ireland, India, and the West Indies, while from the two former vast numbers are annually exported, many of them to perish in the new countries to which they are driven. Out of 99,000 that left Ireland for Canada in a single year, no less than 13,000 perished on shipboard, and thousands died afterward of disease, starvation, and neglect; and thus it is that we have the horrors of "the middle passage" repeated in our day. It is the slave trade of the last century reproduced on a grander scale and on a new theatre of action. We are told of the principle of population that men increase faster than food, and, for evidence that such must always be the case, are pointed to the fact that when men are few in number they always cultivate the rich soils, and then food is abundant, but as population increases they are forced to resort to the poor soils, and then food becomes scarce. That the contrary of all this is the fact is shown by the history of England, France, Italy, Greece, India, and every other nation of the world, and is proved in our own day by all that is at this moment being done in this country. It is proved by the fact that Ireland possesses millions of acres of the most fertile soil remaining in a state of nature, and so likely to remain until she shall have markets for their produce that will enable their owners readily to exchange turnips, potatoes, cabbages, and hay, for cloth, machinery, and MANURE. It is singular that all the political economists of England should so entirely have overlooked the fact that man is a mere borrower from the earth, and that when he does not pay his debts, she does as do all other creditors, that is, she expels him from his holding. England makes of her soil a grand reservoir for the waste yielded by all the sugar, coffee, wool, indigo, cotton and other raw commodities of almost half the world, and thus does she raise a crop that has been valued at five hundred millions of dollars, or five times more than the average value of the cotton crop produced by so many millions of people in this country; and yet so important is manure that she imports in a single year more than two hundred thousand tons of guano, at a cost of almost two millions of pounds, and thus does she make labour productive and land valuable. Nevertheless, her writers teach other nations that the true mode of becoming rich is to exhaust the land by sending from it all its products in their rudest state, and then, when the people of Ireland attempt to follow the soil which they have sent to England, the people of the latter are told by Mr. McCulloch that "The unexampled misery of the Irish people is directly owing to the excessive augmentation of their numbers; and, nothing can be more perfectly futile than to expect any real or lasting amendment of their situation until an effectual check has been given to the progress of population. It is obvious too," he continues, "that the low and degraded condition into which the people of Ireland are now sunk is the condition to which every people must be reduced whose numbers continue, for any considerable period, to increase faster than the means of providing for their comfortable and decent subsistence."--_Principles_, 383. The population of Ireland did increase with some rapidity, and the reason for this was to be found in the fact that poverty had not yet produced that demoralization which restricts the growth of numbers. The extraordinary morality of the women of Ireland is admitted everywhere. In England it is remarked upon by poor-law commissioners, and here it is a fact that cannot fail to command the attention of the most superficial observer. How it is at home we are told by Sir Francis Head, whose statements on this subject cannot be read without interest:-- "As regards the women of Ireland, their native modesty cannot fail to attract the observation of any stranger. Their dress was invariably decent, generally pleasing, and often strikingly picturesque. Almost all wore woollen petticoats, dyed by themselves, of a rich madder colour, between crimson and scarlet. Upon their shoulders, and occasionally from their heads, hung, in a variety of beautiful folds, sometimes a plaid of red and green, sometimes a cloak, usually dark blue or dingy white. Their garments, however, like those of the men, were occasionally to be seen in tatters."--P. 119. Anxious to be fully informed on the subject, the traveller took occasion to interrogate various police-officers and gentlemen, and the result of his inquiries will be seen on a perusal of the following questions and answers:-- Q. "How long have you been on duty in Galway?" A. "Above nine years." Q. "Have you much crime here?" A. "Very little; it principally consists of petty larcenies." Q. "Have there been here many illegitimate children?" A. "Scarcely any. During the whole of the eight years I have been on duty here I have not known of an illegitimate child being reared up in any family in the town." Q. "What do you mean by being reared up?" A. "I mean that, being acquainted with every family in Galway, I have never known of a child of that description being born."--P. 208. Q. "How long have you been on duty here?" A. "Only six months." Q. "During that time have you known of any instance of an illegitimate child being born in the village of the Claddagh?" A. "Not only have I never known of such a case, but I have never heard any person attribute such a case to the fisherwomen of Claddagh. I was on duty in the three islands of Arran, inhabited almost exclusively by fishermen, who also farm potatoes, and I never heard of one of their women--who are remarkable for their beauty--having had an illegitimate child, nor did I ever hear it attributed to them; indeed, I have been informed by Mr. -----, a magistrate who has lived in Galway for eight years, and has been on temporary duty in the island of Arran, that he also had never heard there of a case of that nature."--P. 209. A. "I have been here better than two years, and during that time I have never known of any woman of Claddagh having had an illegitimate child--indeed, I have never even heard of it." Q. "Have you ever known of any such case in Galway?" A. "Oh, I think there have been some cases in _town_. Of my own knowledge I cannot say so, but I have _heard_ of it."--_Ibid_. Q. "How long have you been in charge of the Claddagh village?" A. "I have been nine years here, for five years of which last March I have been in charge of Claddagh." Q. "During that time has there been an illegitimate child born there?" A. "No, I have never heard of it, and if it had happened I should have been sure to have heard of it, as they wouldn't have allowed her to stop in the village."--P. 210. The reader will now be pleased to recollect that the production of food, flax, cotton, and other raw commodities requires hard labour and exposure, and it is for such labour men are fitted--that the conversion of food, flax, and cotton into cloth requires little exertion and is unattended with exposure, and is therefore especially fitted for the weaker sex--and that when the work of conversion is monopolized by people who live at a distance from the place of production, the woman and the child must be driven to the labour of the field; and therefore it is that we see the women and the children of Jamaica and Carolina, of Portugal and Turkey, of India and of Ireland, compelled to remain idle or to cultivate the land, because of the existence of a system which denies to all places in the world but one the power to bring the consumer to the side of the producer. It was time for woman to take up the cause of her sex, and it may be hoped that she will prosecute the inquiry into the causes of the demoralization and degradation of the women of so large a portion of the world, until she shall succeed in extirpating the system so long since denounced by the greatest of all economists, as "a manifest violation of the most sacred rights of man [and woman] kind." * * * * * SCOTLAND. Centralization tends everywhere to the exhaustion of the land, and to its consolidation in fewer hands, and with every step in this direction man becomes less and less free to determine for whom he will work and what shall be his reward. That such has been the tendency in Jamaica, India, and Ireland, has been shown, and it is now proposed to show that the same tendency exists in Scotland, the Northern part of which has become exclusively agricultural as even its home manufactures have passed away, and must look to a distance for a market for all its products, involving, of course, a necessity for exhausting the land. The Highland tacksman, originally co-proprietor of the land of the clan, became at first vassal, then hereditary tenant, then tenant at will, and thus the property in land passed from the many into the hands of the few, who have not hesitated to avail themselves of the power so obtained. The payment of money rents was claimed by them eighty years since, but the amount was very small, as is shown by the following passage from a work of that date:-- "The rent of these lands is very trifling compared to their extent, but compared to the number of mouths which a farm maintains, it will perhaps be found that a plot of land in the highlands of Scotland feeds ten times more people than a farm of the same extent in the richest provinces."--_Stewart's Political Economy_, vol. i. chap. xvi. Of some of the proceedings of the present century the following sketch is furnished by a recent English writer:-- "Even in the beginning of the 19th century the rental imposts were very small, as is shown by the work of Mr. Lock, (1820,) the steward of the Countess of Sutherland, who directed the improvements on her estates. He gives for instance the rental of the Kintradawell estate for 1811, from which it appears that up to then, every family was obliged to pay a yearly impost of a few shillings in money, a few fowls, and some days' work, at the highest. "It was only after 1811 that the ultimate and real usurpation was enacted, the forcible, transformation of _clan-property_ into the _private property_, in the modern sense, _of the chief_. The person who stood at the head of this economical revolution, was the Countess of Sutherland and Marchioness of Stafford. "Let us first state that the ancestors of the marchioness were the 'great men' of the most northern part of Scotland, of very near three-quarters of Sutherlandshire. This county is more extensive than many French departments or small German principalities. When the Countess of Sutherland inherited these estates, which she afterward brought to her husband, the Marquis of Stafford, afterward Duke of Sutherland, the population of them was already reduced to 15,000. The countess resolved upon a radical economical reform, and determined upon transforming the whole tract of country into sheep-walks. From 1814 to 1820, these 15,000 inhabitants, about 3000 families, were systematically expelled and exterminated. All their villages were demolished and burned down, and all their fields converted into pasturage. British soldiers were commanded for this execution, and came to blows with the natives. An old woman refusing to quit her hut, was burned in the flames of it. Thus the countess appropriated to herself _seven hundred and ninety-four thousand acres of land_, which from time immemorial had belonged to the clan. She allotted to the expelled natives about six thousand acres--two acres per family. These six thousand acres had been lying waste until then, and brought no revenue to the proprietors. The countess was generous enough to sell the acre at 2s. 6d. on an average, to the clan-men who for centuries past had shed their blood for her family. The whole of the unrightfully appropriated clan-land she divided into twenty-nine large sheep-farms, each of them inhabited by one single family, mostly English farm-labourers; and in 1821 the 15,000 Gaels had already been superseded by 131,000 sheep. "A portion of the aborigines had been thrown upon the sea-shore, and attempted to live by fishing. They became amphibious, and, as an English author says, lived half on land and half on water, and after all did not half live upon both." Throughout the North of Scotland the tenants of the small grazing farms into which the Highland counties had been divided, have been ousted for the purpose of creating sheep-walks, and to such an extent has this been carried, that where once, and at no distant period, were numerous black-cattle farms, not an inhabitant is now to be seen for many miles.[121] The work, too, is still going on. "The example of Sutherland," says Mr. Thornton,[122] "is imitated in the neighbouring counties." The misery of these poor people is thus described:-- "Hinds engaged by the year are seldom paid more than two-thirds of what they would receive in the South, and few of them are fortunate enough to obtain regular employment. Farm-servants, however, form only a small proportion of the peasantry, a much greater number being crofters, or tenants of small pieces of ground, from which they derive almost their whole subsistence. Most of them live very miserably. The soil is so poor, and rents in some instances so exorbitant, that occupiers of four or five acres can do little more than maintain themselves, yet it is their aid alone that saves their still poorer brethren from starvation. This is true even of Sutherland, which is commonly represented as a highly improved county, and in which a signal change for the better is said to have taken place in the character and habits of the people.[123] Recent inquiry has discovered that even there, in districts once famous for fine men and gallant soldiers, the inhabitants have degenerated into a meagre and stunted race. In the healthiest situations, on hillsides fronting the sea, the faces of their famished children are as thin and pale as they could be in the foul atmosphere of a London alley.[124] Still more deplorable are the scenes exhibited in the Western Highlands, especially on the coasts and in the adjoining islands. A large population has there been assembled, so ill provided with any means of support, that during part of almost every year from 45,000 to 80,000 [125] of them are in a state of destitution, and entirely dependent upon charity. Many of the heads of families hold crofts from four to seven acres in extent, but these, notwithstanding their small size, and the extreme barrenness of the soil, have often two, three, and sometimes even four families upon them. One estate in the Hebrides, the nominal rent of which is only £5200 a year, is divided into 1108 crofts, and is supposed to have more than 8300 persons living upon it. In another instance a rental of £1814 is payable (for little is really paid) by 365 crofters, and the whole population of the estate is estimated at more than 2300. In Cromarty, 1500 persons are settled upon an estate let nominally for £750, but "paying not more than half that sum."--_Thornton_, 74. "Of course, they live most wretchedly. Potatoes are the usual food, for oatmeal is considered a luxury, to be reserved for high days and holidays, but even potatoes are not raised in sufficient abundance. The year's stock is generally exhausted before the succeeding crop is ripe, and the poor are then often in a most desperate condition, for the poor-law is a dead letter in the North of Scotland, and the want of a legal provision for the necessitous is but ill supplied by the spontaneous contributions of the land-owners."--_Ibid_. 76. At the moment of writing this, the journals of the day furnish information that famine prevails in the Hebrides, and that "in the Isle of Skye alone there are 10,000 able-bodied persons at this time without work, without food, and without credit." The condition of these poor people would certainly be much improved could they find some indulgent master who would purchase them at such prices as would make it to his interest to feed, clothe, and lodge them well in return for their labour. In the days of Adam Smith about one-fifth of the surface of Scotland was supposed to be entailed, and he saw the disadvantages of the system to be so great that he denounced the system as being "founded upon the most absurd of all suppositions--the supposition that every successive generation of men have not an equal right to the earth and all that it possesses; but that the property of the present generation should be retained and regulated according to the fancy of those who died perhaps five hundred years ago." Instead of changing the system, and doing that which might tend to the establishment of greater freedom of trade in land, the movement has been in a contrary direction, and to such an extent that one-half of Scotland is now supposed to be entailed; and yet, singularly enough, this is the system advocated by Mr. McCulloch, a follower in the foot-steps of Adam Smith, as being the one calculated "to render all classes more industrious, and to augment at the same time the mass of wealth and the scale of enjoyment." The effects of the system are seen in the enormous rents contracted to be paid for the use of small pieces of land at a distance from market, the failure in the payment of which makes the poor cultivator a mere slave to the proprietor. How the latter use their power, may be seen by the following extract from a Canadian journal of 1851:-- "A Colonel -----, the owner of estates in South Uist and Barra, in the highlands of Scotland, has sent off over 1100 destitute tenants and cotters under the most cruel and delusive temptations; assuring them that they would be taken care of immediately on their arrival at Quebec by the emigrant agent, receive a free passage to Upper Canada, where they would be provided with work by the government agents, and receive grants of land on certain imaginary conditions. Seventy-one of the last cargo of four hundred and fifty have signed a statement that some of them fled to the mountains when an attempt was made to force them to emigrate. 'Whereupon,' they add, 'Mr. Fleming gave orders to a policeman, who was accompanied by the ground officer of the estate in Barra, and some constables, to pursue the people who had run away among the mountains, which they did, and succeeded in capturing about twenty from the mountains and from other islands in the neighbourhood; but only came with the officers on an attempt being made to handcuff them, and that some who ran away were not brought back; in consequence of which four families, at least, have been divided, some having come in the ships to Quebec, while other members of the same families are left in the highlands.'" "On board the Conrad and the Birman were 518 persons from Mull and Tyree, sent out by his grace the Duke of -----, who provided them with a free passage to Montreal, where on arrival they presented the same appearance of destitution as those from South Uist, sent out by Colonel -----, that is, 'entirely destitute of money and provisions.'" Numbers of these people perished, as we are told, of disease and want of food in the winter which followed their arrival in Canada; and that such would have been the case might naturally have been anticipated by those who exported them. The wretched cotters who are being everywhere expelled from the land are forced to take refuge in cities and towns, precisely as we see now to be the case in Ireland. "In Glasgow," says Mr. Thornton-- "There are nearly 30,000 poor Highlanders, most of them living in a state of misery, which shows how dreadful must have been the privations to which such misery is preferred. Such of them as are able-bodied obtain employment without much difficulty, and may not perhaps have much reason to complain of deficiency of the first requisites of life; but the quarter they inhabit is described as enclosing a larger amount of filth, crime, misery, and disease, than could have been supposed to exist in one spot in any civilized country. It consists of long lanes called 'wynds,' so narrow that a cart could scarcely pass through them, opening upon 'closes,' or courts, about 15 or 20 feet square, round which the houses, mostly three stories high, are built, and in the centre of which is a dunghill. The houses are occupied indiscriminately by labourers of the lowest class, thieves, and prostitutes, and every apartment is filled with a promiscuous crowd of men and women, all in the most revolting state of filth. Amid such scenes and such companions as these, thousands of the most intelligent of the Highlanders are content to take refuge, for it is precisely those who are best educated and best informed that are most impatient of the penury they have to endure at home. "The inhabitants of the Glasgow wynds and closes may be likened to those of the Liverpool cellars, or to those of the worst parts of Leeds, St. Giles's, and Bethnal Green, in London; and every other class of the Scottish urban labouring population may likewise be delineated with the same touches (more darkened, however,) which have been used in describing the corresponding class in English towns. Manufacturing operatives are in pretty much the same position in both countries. Those of Scotland shared even more largely than their Southern brethren in the distress of 1840-2, when Paisley in particular exhibited scenes of wo far surpassing any thing that has been related of Bolton or Stockport."--P. 77. The extent to which these poor people have been driven from the land may be judged by the following statement of population and house-accommodation:-- Persons to Population. Inhabited houses. a house. ----------- ----------------- ---------- 1841...... 2,628,957...... 503,357...... 5.22 1851...... 2,870,784...... 366,650...... 7.83 Intemperance and immorality keep pace with the decline in the power of men over their own actions, as is shown in the following statement of the consumption of British spirits, under circumstances almost precisely similar as regards the amount of duty:-- Duty. Gallons. ----- -------- 1802.............. 3.10-1/2..... 1,158,558 1831.............. 3.4 ........ 5,700,689 1841.............. 3.8 ........ 5,989,905 1851.............. 3.8 ........ 6,830,710 In 1801 the population was 1,599,068, and since that time it has increased eighty per cent., whereas the consumption of spirits has grown almost six hundred per cent.! The poor people who are expelled from the land cannot be sold. The hammer of the auctioneer cannot be allowed to separate parents from children, or husbands from wives, but poverty, drunkenness, and prostitution produce a similar effect, and in a form even more deplorable. In the five years preceding 1840, every fifth person in Glasgow had been attacked by fever, and the deaths therefrom amounted to almost five thousand. It is impossible to study the condition of this portion of the United Kingdom without arriving at the conclusion that society is rapidly being divided into the very rich and the very poor, and that the latter are steadily declining in their power of self-government, and becoming more and more slaves to the former. Centralization tends here, as everywhere, to absenteeism, and "absenteeism," says Dr. Forbes of Glasgow [126] -- "Is in its results everywhere the same. All the transactions and communications between the richer and the poorer classes, have thus substituted for them the sternness of official agency, in the room of that kind and generous treatment which, let them meet unrestrained, the more prosperous children of the same parent would in almost every case pay to their less fortunate brothers. * * * Where the power of sympathy has been altogether or nearly abolished among the different ranks of society, one of the first effects appears in a yawning and ever-widening gulf of poverty which gathers round its foundations. As the lofty shore indicates the depth of the surrounding ocean, the proud pinnacles of wealth in society are the indices of a corresponding depression among the humbler ranks. The greatest misery of man is ever the adjunct of his proudest splendour." Such are the results everywhere of that system which looks to converting England into a great workshop and confining the people of all other nations to the labours of the field. In Jamaica, it annihilated three-fifths of all the negroes imported, and it is now rapidly driving the remainder into barbarism and ultimately to annihilation. In the Southern States, it causes the export of men, women, and children, and the breaking up of families. In India, it has caused famines and pestilences, and is now establishing the slave trade in a new form. In Ireland, it has in half a century carried the people back to a condition worthy only of the darkest part of the Middle Ages, and is now extirpating them from the land of their fathers. In Scotland, it is rapidly dividing the population into two parts--the master on one hand, and the slave on the other. How it has operated, and is now operating, in England itself, we may how examine. CHAPTER XIV. HOW SLAVERY GROWS IN ENGLAND. The Roman people sought to centralize within their walls the power of governing and taxing all the nations of the earth, and to a great extent they succeeded; but in the effort to acquire power over others they lost all power over themselves. As the city grew in size and as its great men became greater, the proportions of the people everywhere became less. The freemen of the Campagna had almost disappeared even in the days of the elder Scipio, and their humble habitations had given way to palaces, the centre of great estates, cultivated by slaves. Step by step with the increase of power abroad came increased consolidation of the land at home, and, as the people were more and more driven from the soil the city grew in numbers and magnificence, and in the poverty and rapacity of its inhabitants. The populace needed to be fed, and that they might be so there was established a great system of poor-laws, carried into effect by aid of the taxation of distant provinces, at whose expense they were both fed and entertained. They demanded cheap food, and they obtained their desires at the cost of the cultivators, abroad and at home, who became more and more enslaved as Rome itself was more cheaply supplied. Desires grew with their indulgence, and the greater the facility for living without labour, the greater became the necessity for seeking "new markets" in which to exercise their powers of appropriation, and the more extensive became the domain of slavery. Bankers and middlemen grew more and more in power, and while the wealth of Crassus enabled him to obtain the control of the East, enormous loans gave to Cæsar the command of the West, leaving to Pompey and his moneyed friends the power to tax the centre and the South. Next, Augustus finds the city of brick and leaves it of marble; and Herodes Atticus appears upon the stage sole improver, and almost sole owner, in Attica, once so free, while bankers and nobles accumulate enormous possessions in Africa, Gaul, and Britain, and the greater the extent of absentee ownership the greater becomes the wretchedness and the crime of the pauper mob of Rome. Still onward the city grows, absorbing the wealth of the world, and with it grow the poverty, slavery, and rapacity of the people, the exhaustion of provinces, and the avarice and tyranny of rulers and magistrates, until at length the empire, rotten at the heart, becomes the prey of barbarians, and all become slaves alike,--thus furnishing proof conclusive that the community which desires to command respect for its own rights _must_ practise respect for those of others; or in other words, must adopt as its motto the great lesson which lies at the base of all Christianity--"Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you." A survey of the British Empire at the present moment presents to view some features so strongly resembling those observed in ancient Rome as to warrant calling the attention of the reader to their careful observation. Like Rome, England has desired to establish political centralization by aid of fleets and armies, but to this she has added commercial centralization, far more destructive in its effects, and far more rapid in its operation. Rome was content that her subjects should occupy themselves as they pleased, either in the fields or in the factories, provided only that they paid their taxes. England, on the contrary, has sought to restrict her subjects and the people of the world in their modes of employment; and this she has done with a view to compel them to make all their exchanges in her single market, leaving to her to fix the prices of all she bought and all she sold, thus taxing them at her discretion in both time and money. She has sought to compel all other nations to follow the plough, leaving to her the loom and the anvil, and thus to render it necessary that they should bring to her all their products in the rudest form, at great cost of transportation, and total loss of the manure yielded by them, thus exhausting their soil and themselves; and the consequences of this are seen in the ruin, depopulation, and slavery of the West Indies, Ireland, India, Portugal, Turkey, and other countries that have been partially or wholly subjected to her dominion. Hence it is that she is seen to be everywhere seeking "new markets." Bengal having been in a great degree exhausted, it became necessary to annex the North-west provinces, and thence we find her stretching out her hand at one moment to seize on Affghanistan, at another to force the Chinese into permitting her to smuggle opium, and at a third to expel the Sikhs and occupy the Punjab, as preliminary to this invasion and subjection of the Burman Empire. She needs, and must have new markets, as Rome needed new provinces, and for the same reason, the exhaustion of the old ones. She rejoices with great joy at the creation of a new market in Australia, and looks with a longing eye on the Empire of Japan, whose prosperous people, under a peaceful government, prefer to avoid entering on the same course of action that has resulted in the reduction of the wealthy and powerful Hindostan to its present distressed condition. It was against this system that Adam Smith cautioned his countrymen, as not only a violation of "the most sacred rights" of man, but as leading inevitably to consequences in the highest degree injurious to themselves, in depreciating the value of both labour and capital. Up to his time, however, it had been carried out in a very small degree. The colonies were then few in number, but, those were heavily taxed, as has been shown in the candid admission of _Joshua Gee_, that the colonists carried home but one-fourth of the value of the commodities they brought to the great market.[127] The system was then only in its infancy. In India, the Company had but then first obtained the concession of a right to act in the capacity of tax-gatherer for Bengal. On this continent, the right thus to tax the colonists was seriously contested, and _The Wealth of Nations_ had not been long before the world before it came to be explicitly and successfully denied. The tendency of the system was, however, so obvious to its author, that he desired to warn his countrymen against the effort to build up "colonies of customers," as unworthy of a great people, and worthy only of "a nation of shopkeepers,"--and happy for them would it have been had his advice been taken. It was not. From that day to the present, every step has been in the direction against which he cautioned them, as was shown in a former chapter, and from year to year the people of England have become more and more the mere traders in the products of the labours of other men, and more and more compelled to seek "new markets," as did the Roman people,--the only difference being that in every case the exhaustion has been accomplished with a rapidity unparalleled in the annals of Rome, or of the world. A century since, India was rich, and now her government, collecting annually one-fifth of the whole value of the land, is sustained only by means of a monopoly of the power to poison and enslave the Chinese by means of a vile drug, and the poor Hindoo is forced to seek for food in the swamps of Jamaica and Guiana. Half a century since, Ireland had a highly cultivated society, with a press that sent forth large editions of the most valuable and expensive books produced in England, and now her people are decimated by famine and pestilence. Twenty years since, there existed some little prospect that the poor negroes of Jamaica and Guiana might at some future time become civilized, but that hope has passed away, as has the value of the land upon which they have been employed. What has been the effect of this course of policy upon the condition of the people of England we may now inquire. In the days of Adam Smith it was estimated that there were in that country 220,000 owners of land, and as a necessary consequence of this extensive ownership of property, there was a very decided tendency toward an increase in the freedom of man, as shown in the efforts made but a few years later for obtaining a reform in various matters of government. The French Revolution came, however, and now the doctrine of "ships, colonies, and commerce" had much to do in bringing about a state of war, during the whole of which England enjoyed almost a monopoly of the trade of the world. Having all the woollen and cotton machinery, and almost all the machinery for the production of iron, she was enabled to buy produce and sell manufactures at her own prices; and thus were the already wealthy greatly enriched. The poor-houses were, however, everywhere filled with starving labourers, and so rapidly did their number increase that it became at length necessary to give to the statute of Elizabeth a new and enlarged construction; and here do we find another coincidence in the working of Roman and British centralization. A still further one will be found in the fact that precisely as the labourer was losing all power of self-government, the little proprietors of land disappeared, to be replaced by day-labourers. The peace, however came, and with it a desire on the part of other nations to supply themselves with cloth, iron, and other manufactured commodities; and to enable them to carry into effect their wishes, many of them imposed duties having for their object the bringing together of the plough and the loom, the hammer and the harrow. This produced, of course, a necessity for new exertions to underwork those nations, leading to constant improvements of machinery, each tending to enable the capitalist more and more to accumulate fortune and purchase land, the consolidation of which has been continued until at length it has resulted in the fact, that in place of the 220,000 English land-owners of the days of Adam Smith, there now exist but 30,000, while all the land of Scotland has, as is stated, accumulated in the hands of 6000 persons. As the 190,000 proprietors came by degrees to be represented by day-labourers, pauperism increased, and the labourer became from year to year more enslaved, and more dependent for existence upon the favours of farmers, parish beadles, and constables, until at length a reform of the system having become absolutely necessary, it was undertaken. Instead, however, of inquiring into the causes of this increased dependence with a view to their abolition, it was determined to abolish the relief that they had rendered necessary, and hence the existence of the new poor-law. By virtue of its provisions, inability to obtain food became a crime punishable by the separation of husbands from wives and parents from children; and thus we see that in the last twenty years English legislation has tended greatly in the same direction with the domestic slave trade of this country. Consolidation of the land drove the labourers from the cultivation of the soil, while improved machinery tended constantly to drive them out from the factory, and thus were the poor made poorer and weaker, as the rich grew richer and stronger. Ireland, too, contributed largely to the same result. As the Act of Union gradually closed her factories and drove her people to cultivation as the sole means of supporting life, they found themselves, like the Italians of olden time, forced to emigrate to the place where taxes were distributed, in the hope of obtaining wages, and their competition threw the English labourer still more in the hands of the capitalist. From year to year the small proprietor was seen to pass into the condition of a day-labourer, and the small employing mechanic or tradesman to pass into a receiver of wages, and thus did the whole people tend more and more to become divided into two great classes, separated from each other by an impassable gulf, the very rich and the very poor, the master and the slave. As England became more and more flooded with the wretched people of the sister island, driven from home in search of employment, the wealthy found it more and more easy to accomplish "the great works" for which, as the London _Times_ inform us, the country is indebted to the "cheap labour of Ireland," and the greater the influx of this labour the more rapid was the decline in the power of both Ireland and Britain to furnish a market for the products of the manufacturing, labour of England. Hence arose, of course, a necessity for looking abroad for new markets to take the place of those before obtained at home, and thus cheap labour, a _consequence_ of the system, became in its turn a _cause_ of new efforts at dispensing with and further cheapening labour. As the Irishman could no longer buy, it became necessary that the Hindoo should be driven from his own market. As the Highlander was expelled, it became more and more necessary to underwork the spinners and weavers of China. As the Bengalese now become impoverished, there arises a necessity for filling the Punjab, and Affghanistan, Burmah and Borneo, with British goods. Pauperism lies necessarily at the root of such a system. "It is," said a speaker at the late Bradford election for representative in Parliament-- "Its root. That system is based on foreign competition. Now I assert, that _under the buy cheap and sell dear principle, brought to bear on foreign competition, the ruin of the working and small trading classes must go on. Why?_ Labour is the creator of all wealth. A man must work before a grain is grown, or a yard is woven. But there is no self-employment for the working-man in this country. Labour is a hired commodity--labour is a thing in the market that is bought and sold; consequently, as labour creates all wealth, labour is the first thing bought. 'Buy cheap! buy cheap!' Labour is bought in the cheapest market. But now comes the next. 'Sell dear! sell dear!' Sell what? _Labors produce_. To whom? To the foreigner--ay! and to _the labourer himself_--for labour not being self-employed, the labourer is _not_ the partaker of the first-fruits of his toil. 'Buy cheap, sell dear.' How do you like it? 'Buy cheap, sell dear.' Buy the working-man's labour cheaply, and sell back to that very working-man the produce of his own labour dear! The principle of inherent loss is in the bargain. The employer buys the labour cheap--he sells, and on the sale he must, make a profit: he sells to the working-man himself--and thus every bargain between employer and employed is a deliberate cheat on the part of the employer. Thus labour has to sink through eternal loss, that capital may rise through lasting fraud. But the system stops not here. THIS IS BROUGHT TO BEAR ON FOREIGN COMPETITION--WHICH MEANS, WE MUST RUIN THE TRADE OF OTHER COUNTRIES, AS WE HAVE RUINED THE LABOUR OF OUR OWN. How does it work? The high-taxed country has to undersell the low-taxed. _Competition abroad is constantly increasing, consequently cheapness must increase also._ Therefore, wages in England must keep constantly falling. And how do they effect the fall? By _surplus labour_. By monopoly of the land, which drives more hands than are wanted into the factory. By monopoly of machinery, which drives those hands into the street; by woman labour, which drives the man from the shuttle; by child labour, which drives the woman from the loom. Then planting their foot upon that living base of surplus, they press its aching heart beneath their heel, and cry 'Starvation! Who'll work? A half loaf is better than no bread at all;' and the writhing mass grasps greedily at their terms. Such is the system for the working-man. But, electors, how does it operate on you? how does it affect home trade, the shopkeeper, poor's rate, and taxation? _For every increase of competition abroad there must be an increase of cheapness at home._ Every increase of cheapness in labour is based on increase of labour surplus, and this surplus is obtained by an increase of machinery. I repeat, how does this operate on you? The Manchester liberal on my left establishes a new patent, and throws three hundred men as a surplus in the streets. Shopkeepers! Three hundred customers less. Rate-payers! Three hundred paupers more. But, mark me! The evil stops not there. _These three hundred men operate first to bring down the wages of those who remain at work in their own trade._ The employer says, 'Now I reduce your wages.' The men demur. Then he adds, 'Do you see those three hundred men who have just walked out? _you may change places if you like_, they're sighing to come in on any terms, for they're starving.' The men feel it, and are crushed. Ah! you Manchester liberal! Pharisee of politics! those men are listening--have I got you now? But the evil stops not yet. _Those men, driven from their own trade, seek employment in others, when they swell the surplus and bring wages down._" Strong as is all this, it is nevertheless true, England is engaged in a war of extermination waged against the labour of all other countries employed in any pursuit except that of raising raw produce to be sent to her own market, there to be exchanged for the cloth and the iron produced at the mills and furnaces of her _millionaires_, who have accumulated their vast fortunes at the expense of Ireland, India, Portugal, Turkey, and the other countries that have been ruined by the system which looks to the exhaustion of the soil of all other lands, to the impoverishment and enslavement of their people, and which was so indignantly denounced by Adam Smith. In the effort to crush them she has been crushing her own people, and the more rapid the spread of pauperism at home the greater have been her efforts to produce the surplus labour which causes a fall of wages at home and abroad. With the consolidation of land in the hands of a few proprietors there is a steady decline in the number of people employed upon it, and an equally steady one in that hope of rising in the world which is elsewhere seen to be the best incentive to exertion. "The peasant knows," says a recent English writer,[128] "that he must die in the same position in which he was born." Again, he says, "the want of small farms deprives the peasant of all hope of improving his condition in life." The London _Times_ assures its readers that "once a peasant in England, the man must remain a peasant for ever;" and Mr. Kay, after careful examination of the condition of the people of continental Europe, assures his readers that, as one of the consequences of this state of things, the peasantry of England "are more ignorant, more demoralized, less capable of helping themselves, and more pauperized, than those of any other country in Europe, if we except Russia, Turkey, South Italy, and some parts of the Austrian Empire."[129] Under such circumstances, the middle class tends gradually to pass away, and its condition is well expressed by the term now so frequently, used, "the uneasy class." The small capitalist, who would elsewhere purchase a piece of land, a horse and cart, or a machine of some kind calculated to enable him to double the productiveness of his labour and increase its reward, is in England forced to make his investments in savings banks or life-insurance offices, and thus to place his little capital in the hands of others, at three per cent., whereas he could have fifty or a hundred per cent., could he be permitted to use it himself. There is, therefore, a perpetual strife for life, and each man is, as has been said, "endeavouring to snatch the piece of bread from his neighbour's mouth." The atmosphere of England is one of intense gloom. Every one is anxious for the future, for himself or his children. There is a universal feeling of doubt as to how to dispose of the labour or the talents of themselves or their sons, and the largest fees are paid to men already wealthy, in the hope of obtaining aid toward securing steady employment. "This _gloom_ of England," says a late English writer-- "Is in truth one of the most formidable evils of modern times. With all the advance, in morality and decency of the present century, we have receded rather than gone forward in the attainment of that true Christian cheerfulness, which--notwithstanding the popular proverb--I believe to be the blessing next in value to godliness. "I truly believe," he continues, "that one of the chief obstacles to the progress of pure living Christianity in this country is to be found in that worldly carefulness which causes our intense gravity, and makes us the most silent nation in Europe. The respectability of England is its bane; we worship respectability, and thus contrive to lose both the enjoyments of earth and the enjoyments of heaven. If Great Britain could once learn to laugh like a child, she would be in the way once more to pray like a saint. "But this is not all: the sensuality and gross vice, and the hateful moroseness and harshness of temper, which result from our indisposition for gayety and enjoyment, are literally awful to think of. Pride and licentiousness triumph in our land, because we are too careworn or too stupid to enter heartily into innocent recreations. Those two demons, one of which first cast man out of Paradise, while the other has degraded him to the level of the brutes, are served by myriads of helpless slaves, who are handed over to a bondage of passion, through the gloominess that broods over our national character. The young and the old alike, the poor and the wealthy, are literally driven to excess, because there is nothing in our state of society to refresh them after their toils, or to make life as much a season of enjoyment as the inevitable lot of mortality will allow. "Men fly to vice for the want of pure and innocent pleasures. The gin-shops receive those who might be entertaining themselves with the works of art in a public gallery. The whole animal portion of our being is fostered at the expense of the spiritual. We become brutalized, because we are morbidly afraid of being frivolous and of wasting our time. The devil keeps possession of an Englishman's heart, through the instrumentality of his carnal passions, because he is too proud and too stupid to laugh and enjoy himself. "Secret sin destroys its myriads, immolated on the altar of outward respectability and of a regard for the opinion of a money-getting world." The existence of such a state of things is indeed a "formidable evil," but how could it fail to exist in a country in which all individuality is being lost as the little land-owner gradually disappears to be replaced by the day-labourer, and as the little shop-keeper gradually sinks into a clerk? How could it be otherwise in a country in which weak women, and children of the most tender age, spend their nights in cellars, and the long day of twelve or fifteen hours in factories, whose owners know of them nothing but, as in a penitentiary, their number--a country in which males and females work naked in coal-mines--and find themselves compelled to do all these things because of the necessity for preventing the poor Hindoo from calling to his aid the powerful steam, and for compelling him, his wife, and his children, to limit themselves to the labour of the field? How could it be otherwise in a country in which "labourers, whether well off or not, never attempt to be better?"[130] How otherwise in a country distinguished among all others for the enormous wealth of a few, for the intensity of toil and labour of all below them, and for the anxiety with which the future is regarded by all but those who, bereft of hope, know that all they can expect on this side of the grave is an indifferent supply of food and raiment? "In no country of the world," says Mr. Kay-- "Is so much time spent in the mere acquisition of wealth, and so little time in the enjoyment of life and of all the means of happiness which God has given to man, as in England. "In no country in the world do the middle classes labour so intensely as here. One would think, to view the present state of English society, that man was created for no other purpose than to collect wealth, and that he was forbidden to gratify the beautiful tastes with which he has been gifted for the sake of his own happiness. To be rich, with us, is the great virtue, the pass into all society, the excuse for many frailties, and the mask for numerous deformities." An Eastern proverb says that "curses, like young chickens, always come home to roost." Few cases could be presented of a more perfect realization of this than is found in the present condition of England. Half a century since it was decreed that the poor people of Ireland should confine themselves to the cultivation and exhaustion of their soil, abstaining from the mining of coal, the smelting of ore, or the making of cloth; and during nearly all that time they have so flooded England with "cheap labour" as to have produced from the _Times_ the declaration, before referred to, that "for a whole generation man has been a drug and population a nuisance"--precisely the state of things in which men tend most to become enslaved. Cheap corn, cheap cotton, cheap tobacco, and cheap sugar, mean low-priced agricultural labour; and the low-priced labourer is always a slave, and aiding to produce elsewhere the slavery of his fellow-labourers, whether in the field or in the workshop. This, however, is in perfect accordance with the doctrines of some of England's most distinguished statesmen, as the reader has already seen in the declaration of Mr. Huskisson, that "to give capital a fair remuneration, the price of labour must be kept down,"--by which he proved the perfect accuracy of the predictions of the author of _The Wealth of Nations_. The harmony of true interests among nations is perfect, and an enlightened self-interest would lead every nation to carry into full effect the golden rule of Christianity; and yet even now, the most distinguished men in England regard smuggling almost as a virtuous act, and the smuggler as a great reformer, because his labours tend to enable their countrymen to do everywhere what has been done in the West Indies, in Ireland, Portugal, Turkey, and India--separate the consumer from the producer. They regard it as the appointed work of England to convert the whole earth into one vast farm dependent upon one vast workshop, and that shop in the island of Great Britain. Such being the views of peers of the realm, lord chancellors, ministers of state, political economists, and statisticians, can we wonder at a decline of morality among the middle class, under the combined influence of the struggle for life, and the assurance that "the end sanctifies the means," and that false invoices are but a means of working out a great reformation in the commercial system of the world? Good ends rarely require such means for their accomplishment, and the very fact that it was needed to have Gibraltar as a means of smuggling into Spain, Canada as a means of smuggling into this country,[131] and Hong Kong for the purpose of poisoning the Chinese with smuggled opium, should have led to a careful consideration of the question whether or not the system which looked to exhausting the soil of Virginia and driving the poor negro to the sugar culture in Texas, was one of the modes of "doing God service." Unsound moral feeling is a necessary consequence of an exclusive devotion to trade such as is now seen to exist in England. It is the business of the trader to buy cheaply and sell dearly, be the consequences what they may to those from whom he buys, or to whom he sells; and unhappily the prosperity of England now depends so entirely on buying cheaply and selling dearly that she is forced to overlook the effects upon those to whom she sells, or from whom she buys, and she therefore rejoices when others are being ruined, and grieves when they are being enriched. Her interests are always, and necessarily so, opposed to those of the rest of the world. She _must_ look at every thing with the eyes of the mere trader who wishes to buy cheaply and sell dearly, living at the cost of the producer and the consumer. The former desires good prices for his sugar, and yet so anxious was she to obtain cheap sugar that she forgot her engagements with the poor emancipated negroes of Jamaica. The former desire's good prices for his corn, but so anxious was she to have cheap corn, that she forgot having deprived the people of Ireland of all employment but in agriculture, and at once adopted measures whose action is now expelling the whole nation from the scenes of their youth, and separating husbands and wives, mothers and children. She has placed herself in a false position, and cannot now _afford_ to reflect upon the operation of cheap sugar and cheap corn, cheap cotton and cheap tobacco, upon the people who produce them; and therefore it is that the situation of Ireland and India, and of the poor people Of Jamaica, is so much shut out from discussion. Such being the case with those who should give tone to public opinion, how can we look for sound or correct feeling among the poor occupants of "the sweater's den,"[132] or among the 20,000 tailors of London, seeking for work and unable to find it? Or, how look for it among the poor shopkeepers, compelled in self-defence to adulterate almost every thing they sell, when they see the great cotton manufacturer using annually hundreds of barrels of flour to enable him to impose worthless cloth upon the poor Hindoo, and thus annihilate his foreign competitor? Or, how expect to find it among the poor operatives of Lancashire, at one moment working full time, at another but three days in a week, and at a third totally deprived of employment, because goods can no longer be smuggled into foreign countries to leave a profit? With them, the question of food or no food is dependent altogether upon the size of the cotton crop. If the slave trade is brisk, much cotton is made, and they have wages with which to support their wives and children. If the crop is large, the planter may be ruined, but they themselves are fed. "The weekly mail from America," we are told-- "Is not of more moment to the great cotton lord of Manchester, than it is to John Shuttle the weaver. * * * If he ever thinks how entirely his own existence and that of his own little household depend upon the American crop * * * he would tremble at the least rumour of war with the Yankees. War with America--a hurricane in Georgia--a flood in Alabama--are one and all death-cries to the mill-spinner and power-loom weaver. * * * When the cotton fields of the Southern States yield less than the usual quantity of cotton, the Manchester operative eats less than his average quantity of food. When his blood boils at the indignities and cruelties heaped upon the coloured, race in the 'Land of the Free,' he does not always remember that _to the slave States_ of America _he owes his all_--that _it is for his advantage_ that the _negro should wear his chains in peace_."--_Household Words_. "If his "blood boils" at the sufferings of the negro in Brazil, or of the Hindoo in the Mauritius, he must recollect that it is at the cost of those sufferings that he is supplied with cheap sugar. If he be shocked at the continuance of the African slave trade, he must recollect that if negroes ceased to be imported into Cuba, he might have to pay a higher price for his coffee. If he is excited at the idea of the domestic slave trade of this country, he must calm himself by reflecting that it is "for his advantage" it is continued, and that without it he could not have cheap cotton. The labourers of the various parts of the world are thus taught that there is among themselves an universal antagonism of interests, and this tends, of course, to the production of a bad state of moral feeling, and an universal tendency to decline in the feeling of self-dependence. Men, women, and children are becoming from day to day more dependent on the will of others, and as it is that dependence which constitutes slavery, we might with reason expect to find some of the vices of the slave--and were we to find them we should not greatly err in attributing their existence to the system thus described by Adam Smith:-- "The industry of Great Britain, instead of being accommodated to a great number of small markets, has been principally suited to one great market. Her commerce, instead of running in a great number of small channels, has been taught to run principally in one great channel. But the whole system of her industry and commerce has thereby been rendered less secure, the whole state of her body politic less healthful than it otherwise would have been. In her present condition, Great Britain resembles one of those unwholesome bodies in which some of the vital parts are overgrown, and which, upon that account, are liable to many dangerous disorders, scarce incident to those in which all the parts are more properly proportioned. A small stop in that great blood-vessel which has been artificially swelled beyond its natural dimensions, and through which an unnatural proportion of the industry and commerce of the country has been forced to circulate, is very likely to bring on the most dangerous disorders upon the whole body politic." This is an accurate picture of that country under a system that seeks to direct the whole energies of its people into one direction, that of "buying in the cheapest market and selling in the dearest one,"--the pursuit that is, of all others, the least favourable to the development of the moral and intellectual faculties of man. How it is operating may be judged by the following description from an English writer already quoted:-- "Of the children of the poor, who are yearly born in England, vast numbers never receive any education at all, while many others never enter any thing better than a dame or a Sunday-school. In the towns they are left in crowds until about eight or nine years of age, to amuse themselves in the dirt of the streets, while their parents pursue their daily toil. In these public thoroughfares, during the part of their lives which is most susceptible of impressions and most retentive of them, they acquire dirty, immoral, and disorderly habits; they become accustomed to wear filthy and ragged clothes; they learn to pilfer and to steal; they associate with boys who have been in prison, and who have there been hardened in crime by evil associates; they learn how to curse one another, how to fight, how to gamble, and how to fill up idle hours by vicious pastimes; they acquire no knowledge except the knowledge of vice; they never come in contact with their betters; and they are not taught either the truths of religion or the way by which to improve their condition in life. Their amusements are as low as their habits. The excitements of low debauchery too horrible to be named, of spirituous liquors, which they begin to drink as early as they can collect pence wherewith to buy them, of the commission and concealments of thefts, and of rude and disgusting sports, are the pleasures of their life. The idea of going to musical meetings such as those of the German poor, would be scoffed at, even if there were any such meetings for them to attend. Innocent dancing is unknown to them. Country sports they cannot have. Read they cannot. So they hurry for amusement and excitement to the gratification of sensual desires and appetites. In this manner, filthy, lewd, sensual, boisterous, and skilful in the commission of crime, a great part of the populations of our towns grow up to manhood. Of the truth or falsehood of this description any one can convince himself, who will examine our criminal records, or who will visit the back streets of any English town, when the schools are full, and count the children upon the door-steps and pavements, and note their condition, manners, and appearance, and their degraded and disgusting practices."--Kay, vol. i. 33.[133] This is, however, little different from what might be looked, for in a country whose provision for the education of its people is thus described:-- "About one-half of our poor can neither read nor write. The test of signing the name at marriage is a very imperfect absolute test of education, but it is a very good relative one: taking that test, how stands Leeds itself in the Registrar-General's returns? In Leeds, which is the centre of the movement for letting education remain as it is, left entirely to chance and charity to supply its deficiencies, how do we find the fact? This, that in 1846, the last year to which these returns are brought down, of 1850 marriages celebrated in Leeds and Hunslet, 508 of the men and 1020 of the women, or considerably more than one-half of the latter, signed their names with marks. 'I have also a personal knowledge of this fact--that of 47 men employed upon a railway in this immediate neighbourhood, only 14 men can sign their names in the receipt of their wages; and this not because of any diffidence on their part, but positively because they cannot write.' And only lately, the _Leeds Mercury_ itself gave a most striking instance of ignorance among persons from Boeotian Pudsey: of 12 witnesses, 'all of respectable appearance, examined before the Mayor of Bradford at the court-house there, only one man could sign his name, and that indifferently.' Mr. Nelson has clearly shown in statistics of crime in England and Wales from 1834 to 1844, that crime is invariably the most prevalent in those districts where the fewest numbers in proportion to the population can read and write. Is it not indeed beginning at the wrong end to try and reform men, after they have become criminals? Yet you cannot begin, with children, from want of schools. Poverty is the result of ignorance, and then ignorance is again the unhappy result of poverty. 'Ignorance makes men improvident and thoughtless--women as well as men; it makes them blind to the future--to the future of this life as well as the life beyond. It makes them dead to higher pleasures than those of the mere senses, and keeps them down to the level of the mere animal. Hence the enormous extent of drunkenness throughout this country, and the frightful waste of means which it involves.' At Bilston, amidst 20,000 people, there are but two struggling schools--one has lately ceased; at Millenhall, Darlaston, and Pelsall, amid a teeming population, no school whatever. In Oldham, among 100,000, but one public day-school for the labouring classes; the others are an infant school, and some dame and factory schools. At Birmingham, there are 21,824 children at school, and 23,176, at no school; at Liverpool, 50,000 out of 90,000 at no school; at Leicester, 8200 out of 12,500; and at Leeds itself, in 1841, (the date of the latest returns,) some 9600 out of 16,400, were at no school whatever. It is the same in the counties. 'I have seen it stated, that a woman for some time had to officiate as clerk in a church in Norfolk, there being no adult male in the parish able to read and write. For a population of 17,000,000 we have but twelve normal schools; while in Massachusetts they have three such schools for only 800,000 of population." Such being the education of the young, we may now look to see how Mr. Kay describes that provided for people of a more advanced period of life:-- "The crowd of low pot-houses in our manufacturing districts is a sad and singular spectacle. They are to be found in every street and alley of the towns, and in almost every lane and turning of the more rural villages of those districts, if any of those villages can be called rural. "The habit of drunkenness pervades the masses of the operatives to an extent never before known in our country. "In a great number of these taverns and pot-houses of the manufacturing districts, prostitutes are kept for the express purpose of enticing the operatives to frequent them, thus rendering them doubly immoral and pernicious. I have been assured in Lancashire, on the best authority, that in one of the manufacturing towns, and that, too, about third rate in point of size and population, there are _sixty_ taverns, where prostitutes are kept by the tavern landlords, in order to entice customers into them. Their demoralizing influence upon the population _cannot be exaggerated_; and yet these are almost the only resorts which the operatives have, when seeking amusement or relaxation. "In those taverns where prostitutes are not actually kept for the purpose of enticing customers, they are always to be found in the evenings, at the time the workmen go there to drink. In London and in Lancashire the gin-palaces are the regular rendezvous for the abandoned of both sexes, and the places where the lowest grade of women-of-the-town resort to find customers. It is quite clear that young men, who once begin to meet their, friends at these places, cannot long escape the moral degradation of these hot-houses of vice. "The singular and remarkable difference between the respective condition of the peasants and operatives of Germany and Switzerland, and those of England and Ireland, in this respect, is alone sufficient to prove the singular difference between their respective social condition. "The village inn in Germany is quite a different kind of place to the village inn in England. It is intended and used less for mere drinking, than, as a place for meeting and conversation; it is, so to speak, the villagers' club."--Vol. i. 232. Under such circumstances, we cannot be surprised when told by Mr. Alison that over the whole kingdom crime increases four times as fast as the population, and that "in Lancashire population doubles in thirty years, crime in five years and a half." How, indeed, could it be otherwise under a system based upon the idea of "keeping labour down"--one that tends to the consolidation of the land and the exclusion of men from the work of cultivation, and then excludes them from the factory, while forcing hundreds of thousands of indigent and almost starving Irish into England in search of employment? The process of "eviction" in Ireland has been already described. How the same work has been, and is being, performed in England is thus stated by the _Times_:-- "Our village peasantry are jostled about from cottage to cottage, or from cottage to no cottage at all, as freely and with as little regard to their personal tastes, and conveniences as if we were removing our pigs, cows, and horses from one sty or shed to another. If they cannot get a house over their heads they go to the Union, and are distributed--the man in one part, the wife in another, and the children again somewhere else. That is a settled thing. Our peasantry bear it, or, if they can't bear it, they die, and there is an end of it on this side of the grave; though how it will stand at the great audit, we leave an 'English Catholic' to imagine. We only mean to say that in England the work has been done; cotters have been exterminated; small holdings abolished; the process of eviction rendered superfluous; the landlord's word made law; the refuge of the discontented reduced to a workhouse, and all without a shot, or a bludgeon, or a missile being heard of." Thus driven from the land, they are forced to take refuge in London and Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, and Leeds, and accordingly there it is that we find nearly the whole increase of population in the last ten years. Out of less than two millions, more than 400,000 were added to the number of London alone, and those who are familiar with Mr. Mayhew's work, _London Labour and London Poor_, do not need to be told of the extraordinary wretchedness, nor of the immorality that there abound. Inquiries get on foot by Lord Ashley have shown that "in the midst of that city there are," says Mr. Kay-- "Persons, forming a separate class, having pursuits, interests, manners; and customs of their own, and that the filthy, deserted, roaming, and lawless children, who may be called the source of 19-20ths of the crime which desolates the metropolis, are not fewer in number than THIRTY THOUSAND! "These 30,000 are quite independent of the number of mere pauper children, who crowd the streets of Londen, and who never enter a school: but of these latter nothing will be said here. "Now, what are the pursuits, the dwelling-houses, and the habits of these poor wretches? Of 1600, who were examined, 162 confessed that they had been in prison, not merely once, or even twice, but some of them several times; 116 had run away from their homes; 170 slept in the "lodging-houses;" 253 had lived altogether by beggary; 216 had neither shoes nor stockings; 280 had no hat or cap, or covering for the head; 101 had no linen; 249 had never slept in a bed; many had no recollection of ever having been in a bed; 68 were the children of convicts,"--Vol. i. 394. In the towns of the manufacturing districts there are, says the same author-- "A great number of cellars beneath the houses of the small shopkeepers and operatives, which are inhabited by crowds of poor inhabitants. Each of these cellar-houses contains at the most two, and often, and in some towns generally, only one room. These rooms measure in Liverpool, from 10 to 12 feet square. In some other towns, they are rather larger. They are generally flagged. The flags lie "directly" upon the earth, and are generally wretchedly damp. In wet weather they are very often not dry for weeks together. Within a few feet of the windows of these cellars, rises the wall which keeps the street from falling in upon them, darkening the gloomy rooms, and preventing the sun's rays penetrating into them. "Dr. Duncan, in describing the cellar-houses of the manufacturing districts, says[134]--'The cellars are ten or twelve feet square; generally flagged, but frequently having only the bare earth for a floor, and sometimes less than six feet in height. There is frequently no window, so that light and air can gain access to the cellar only by the door, the top of which is often not higher than the level of the street. In such cellars ventilation is out of the question. They, are of course dark; and from the defective drainage, they are also very generally damp. There is sometimes a back cellar, used as a sleeping apartment, having no direct communication with the external atmosphere, and deriving its scanty supply of light and air solely from the front apartment.'"--Vol. i. 447. "One of the city missionaries, describing the state of the Mint district in the city of London, says, 'it is utterly impossible to describe the scenes, which are to be witnessed here, or to set forth in its naked deformity the awful characters sin here assumes. * * * _In Mint street, alone, there are nineteen lodging-houses._ The majority of these latter are awful sinks of iniquity, and are used as houses of accommodation. In some of them, both sexes sleep together indiscriminately, and such acts are practised and witnessed, that married persons, who are in other respects awfully depraved, have been so shocked, as to be compelled to get up in the night and leave the house. Many of the half-naked impostors, who perambulate the streets of London in the daytime, and obtain a livelihood by their deceptions, after having thrown off their bandages, crutches, &c., may be found here in their true character; some regaling themselves in the most extravagant manner; others gambling or playing cards, while the worst of language proceeds from their lips. Quarrels and fights are very common, and the cry of murder is frequently heard. The public-houses in this street are crowded to excess, especially, on the Sabbath evening.[135] "In the police reports published in the _Sun_ newspaper of the 11th of October, 1849, the following account is given of '_a penny lodging-house_' in Blue Anchor Yard, Rosemary Lane. One of the policemen examined, thus describes a room in this lodging-house:--'It was a very small one, extremely filthy, and there was no furniture of any description in it. _There were sixteen men, women, and children lying on the floor, without covering. Some of them were half naked._ For this miserable shelter, each lodger paid a penny. The stench was intolerable, and the place had not been cleaned out for some time.' "If the nightly inmates of these dens are added to the tramps who seek lodging in the vagrant-wards of the workhouses, we shall find that there are at least between 40,000 and 50,000 tramps who are daily infesting our roads and streets!"--Vol. i. 431. In the agricultural districts, whole families, husbands and wives, sons and daughters, sisters-in-law and brothers-in-law, sleep together, and here we find a source of extraordinary immorality. "The accounts we receive," says Mr. Kay-- "From all parts of the country show that these miserable cottages are crowded to an extreme, and that the crowding is progressively increasing. People of both sexes, and of all ages, both married and unmarried--parents, brothers, sisters, and strangers--sleep in the same rooms and often in the same beds. One gentleman tells us of six people of different sexes and ages, two of whom were man and wife, sleeping in the same bed, three with their heads at the top and three with their heads at the foot of the bed. Another tells us of adult uncles and nieces sleeping in the same room close to each other; another of the uncles and nieces sleeping in the same bed together; another of adult brothers, and sisters sleeping in the same room with a brother and his wife just married; many tell us of adult brothers and sisters sleeping in the same beds; another tells us of rooms so filled with beds that there is no space between them, but that brothers, sisters, and parents crawl over each other half naked in order to get to their respective resting-places; another of its being common for men and women, not being relations, to undress together in the same room, without any feeling of its being indelicate; another of cases where women have been delivered in bed-rooms crowded with men, young women, and children; and others mention facts of these crowded bed-rooms much too horrible to be alluded to. Nor are these solitary instances, but similar reports are given by gentlemen writing in ALL parts of the country. "The miserable character of the houses of our peasantry, is, of itself, and independently of the causes which have made the houses so wretched, degrading and demoralising the poor of our rural districts in a fearful manner. It stimulates the unhealthy and unnatural increase of population. The young peasants from their earliest years are accustomed to sleep in the same bed-rooms with people of both sexes, and with both married and unmarried persons. They therefore lose all sense of the indelicacy of such a life. They know, too, that they can gain nothing by deferring their marriages and by saving; that it is impossible for them to obtain better houses by so doing; and that in many cases they must wait many years before they could obtain a separate house of any sort. They feel that if they defer their marriage for ten or fifteen years, they will be at the end of that period in just the same position as before, and no better off for their waiting. Having then lost all hope of any improvement of their social situation, and all sense of the indelicacy of taking a wife home to the bedroom already occupied by parents, brothers, and sisters, they marry early in life,--often, if not generally, before the age of twenty,--and very often occupy, for the first part of their married life, another bed in the already crowded sleeping-room of their parents! In this way the morality of the peasants is destroyed; the numbers of this degraded population are unnaturally increased, and their means of subsistence are diminished by the increasing competition of their increasing numbers."--Vol. i. 472. A necessary consequence of this demoralization is that infanticide prevails to a degree unknown in any other part of the civilized world. The London _Leader_ informs its readers that upon a recent occasion-- "It was declared by the coroner of Leeds, and assented to as probable by the surgeon, that there were, as near as could be calculated, about three hundred children put to death yearly in Leeds alone that were not registered by the law. In other words, three hundred infants were murdered to avoid the consequences of their living, and these murders, as the coroner said, are never detected." The reader may now advantageously turn to the account of the state of education in Leeds, already given,[136] with a view to ascertain the intellectual condition of the women guilty of the foul and unnatural crime of child-murder. Doing so, he will find that out of eighteen hundred and fifty that were married there were _one thousand and twenty who could not sign their names_--and this in the centre of civilization in the middle of the nineteenth century! But a short time since, the _Morning Chronicle_ gave its readers a list of twenty-two trials, for child-murder alone, that had been _reported_ in its columns, and these were stated to be but one-half of those that had taken place in the short period of twenty-seven days! On the same occasion it stated that although English ruffianism had "not taken to the knife," it had "Advanced in the devilish accomplishment of biting off noses and scooping out eyes. Kicking a man to death while he is down," it continued, "or treating, a wife in the same way--stamping on an enemy or a paramour with hobnailed boots--smashing a woman's head with a hand-iron--these atrocities, which are of almost daily occurrence in our cities, are not so much imputed crimes as they are the extravagant exaggerations of the coarse, brutal, sullen temper of an Englishman, brutified by ignorance and stupefied by drink." On the same occasion the _Chronicle_ stated that in villages few young people of the present day marry until, as the phrase is, it has "become necessary." It is, it continued, the rural practice to "keep company in a very loose sense, till a cradle is as necessary as a ring." On another, and quite recent occasion, the same journal furnished its readers with the following striking illustration of the state of morals:-- "In one of the recent Dorsetshire cases, [of child murder,] common cause was made by the girls of the county. They attended the trial in large numbers; and we are informed that on the acquittal of the prisoner a general expression of delight was perceptible in the court; and they left the assizes town boasting 'that they might now do as they liked.' We are then, it seems, with all our boasted civilization, relapsing into a barbarous and savage state of society." Lest it might be supposed that this condition of things had been inherited, the editor stated that-- "This deplorable state of morals was of comparatively recent growth. Old people," he continued, "can often tell the year when the first of such cases occurred in their families; and what a sensation of shame it then excited; while they will also tell us that the difficulty now is to find a lowly couple in village life with whom the rule of decency and Christianity is not the exception. It is a disgraceful fact--and one which education, and especially religious education, has to account for--that a state of morals has grown up in which it can no longer be said that our maidens are given in marriage." Infanticide is not, however, confined to the unmarried. Burial clubs abound. "In our large provincial towns," says Mr. Kay-- "The poor are in the habit of entering their children in what are called 'burial clubs.' A small sum is paid every year by the parent, and this entitles him to receive from 3£. to 5£. from the club, on the death of the child. Many parents enter their children in several clubs. One man in Manchester has been known to enter his child in _nineteen_ different clubs. On the death of such a child, the parent becomes entitled to receive a large sum of money; and as the burial of the child does not necessarily cost more than 1£., or, at the most, 1£.10s., the parent realizes a considerable sum after all the expenses are paid! "It has been clearly ascertained, that it is a common practice among the more degraded classes of poor in many of our towns, to enter their infants in these clubs, and then to cause their death either by starvation, ill-usage, or poison! What more horrible symptom of moral degradation can be conceived? One's mind revolts against it, and would fain reject it as a monstrous fiction. But, alas! it seems to be but too true. "Mr. Chadwick says, 'officers of these burial societies, relieving officers, and others, whose administrative duties put them in communication with the lowest classes in these districts,' (the manufacturing districts,) 'express their moral conviction of the operation of such bounties to produce instances of the visible neglect of children of which they are witnesses. They often say, 'You are not treating that child properly; it will not live: _is it in the club_?' And the answer corresponds with the impression produced by the sight."--Vol. i. 433. Commenting on these and numerous other facts of similar kind, the same author says-- "These accounts are really almost too horrible to be believed at all; and were they not given us on the authority of such great experience and benevolence, we should totally discredit them. "But, alas, they are only too true! There can be no doubt, that a great part of the poorer classes of this country are sunk into such a frightful depth of hoplessness, misery, and utter moral degradation, that even mothers forget their affection for their helpless little offspring, and kill them, as a butcher does his lambs, in order to make money by the murder, and therewith to lessen their pauperism and misery?"--P. 446. How rapid is the progress of demoralization may be seen from the fact that in the thirty years from 1821 to 1851, the consumption of British spirits increased from 4,125,616 to 9,595,368 gallons, or in a ratio more than double that of the population. The use of opium is also increasing with rapidity.[137] Intemperance and improvidence go hand in hand with each other, and hence arises a necessity for burial clubs for the disposal of the children and the maintenance of the parents. A recent English journal states that-- "It is estimated that in Manchester there are 1500 'unfortunate females;' that they lead to an annual expenditure of £470,000; and that some 250 of them die, in horror and despair, yearly. In England it is calculated that there are 40,000 houses of ill-fame, and 280,000 prostitutes; and, further, that not less than £8,000,000 are spent annually in these places." This may, or may not, be exaggerated, but the condition to which are reduced so many of the weaker sex would warrant us in expecting a great decay of morality. When severe labour cannot command a sufficiency of food, can we be surprised that women find themselves forced to resort to prostitution as a means of support? A committee of gentlemen who had investigated the condition of the sewing-women of London made a report stating that no less than 33,000 of them were "permanently at the starvation point," and were compelled to resort to prostitution as a means of eking out a subsistence. But a few weeks since, the _Times_ informed its readers that shirts were made for a _penny a piece_ by women who found the needles and thread, and the _Daily News_ furnished evidence that hundreds of young women had no choice but between prostitution and making artificial flowers at _twopence a day_! Young ladies seeking to be governesses, and capable of giving varied instruction, are expected to be satisfied with the wages and treatment of scullions, and find it difficult to obtain situations even on such terms. It is in such facts as these that we must find the causes of those given in the above paragraph. If we desire to find the character of the young we must look to that of the aged, and especially to that of the mothers. We see here something of the hundreds of thousands of young women who are to supply the future population of England; and if the character of the latter be in accordance with that of the former, with what hope can we look to the future? Nothing indicates more fully the deterioration resulting from this unceasing struggle for life, than the harsh treatment to which are subjected persons who need aid in their distress. A case of this kind, furnished by the _Times_, as occurring at the Lambeth workhouse, so strongly indicates the decay of kind and generous feeling, that, long as it is, it is here given:-- "A poor creature, a young English girl--to be sure, she is not a black--a parcel of drenched rags clinging to her trembling form, every mark of agony and despair in her countenance, lifts her hand to the bell. She rings once and again, and at length the door porter appears, accompanied by a person holding a situation under the guardians--his name is Brooke--and he is a policeman. She is starving, she is pregnant, and almost in the pains of labour, but the stern officials will not take her in. Why? Because she had been in the workhouse until Tuesday morning last, and had then been discharged by 'order of the guardians.' Nor is this all. The tale of parochial bounty is not yet half told out. During that long wet Tuesday she wandered about. She had not a friend in this great town to whom she could apply for the smallest assistance, and on Tuesday night she came back to implore once more the kindly shelter of the parish workhouse. For yet that night she was taken in, but the next morning cast forth into the world again with a piece of dry bread in her hand. On Wednesday the same scene was renewed--the same fruitless casting about for food and shelter, the same disappointment, and the same despair. But parochial bounty can only go thus far, and no farther. Charity herself was worn out with the importunity of this persevering pauper, and on Thursday night the doors of the parish workhouse were finally and sternly shut in her face. "But she was not alone in her sufferings. You might have supposed that the misery of London--enormous as the amount of London misery undoubtedly is--could have shown no counterpart to the frightful position of this unfortunate creature--without a home, without a friend, without a character, without a shelter, without a bite of food--betrayed by her seducer, and the mark for the last twelve hours of the floodgates of heaven. * * * Can it be there are two of them? Yes! Another young woman, precisely in the same situation, knocks at the same workhouse door, and is refused admittance by the same stern guardians of the ratepayers' pockets. The two unfortunates club their anguish and their despair together, and set forth in quest of some archway or place of shelter, beneath which they may crouch until the gas-lamps are put out, and the day breaks once more upon their sufferings. Well, on they roamed, until one of the two, Sarah Sherford, was actually seized with the pangs of labour, when they resolved to stagger back to the workhouse; but again the door was shut in their faces. What was to be done? They were driven away from the house, and moved slowly along, with many a pause of agony, no doubt, until they met with a policeman, one Daniel Donovan, who directed them to a coffee-house where they might hope to get shelter. The coffee-house did not open till 2 o'clock, when they had two hours' shelter. But at that hour they were again cast out, as the keeper was obliged to come into the street with his stall and attend to it. 'At this time (we will here copy the language of our report) Sherford's labour pains had considerably increased, and they again spoke to the same policeman, Donovan, and told him that, unless she was taken into the workhouse or some other place, she must give birth to her infant in the street.' Daniel Donovan accordingly conveyed the two unfortunate creatures to the workhouse once more, at 4 o'clock in the morning. 'The policeman on duty there,' said this witness, 'told him that they had been there before, and seemed to have some _hesitation_ about admitting them, but on being told that one was in the pains of labour, he let them in.'" What slavery can be worse than this? Here are young women, women in distress, starving and almost in the pains of labour, driven about from post to pillar, and from pillar to post, by day and by night, totally unable to obtain the smallest aid. Assuredly it would be difficult to find any thing to equal this in any other country claiming to rank among the civilized nations of the world. At the moment of writing this page, an English journal furnishes a case of death from starvation, and closes its account with the following paragraph, strikingly illustrative of the state of things which naturally arises where every man is "trying to live by snatching the bread from his neighbour's mouth." "It is hardly possible to conceive a more horrible case. A stalwart, strong-framed man, in the prime of life--his long pilgrimage of martyrdom from London to Stoney-Stratford--his wretched appeals for help to the "_civilization_" around him--his seven days fast--his brutal abandonment by his fellow-men--his seeking shelter and being driven from resting-place to resting-place--the crowning inhumanity of the person named Slade and the patient, miserable death of the worn-out man--are a picture perfectly astonishing to contemplate. "No doubt he invaded the rights of property, when he sought shelter in the shed and in the lone barn!!!" The recent developments in regard to Bethlem Hospital are thus described:-- "Some of the cases of cruelty brought to light by the examiners are almost too revolting to describe. It appears that the incurables are lodged in cells partially under ground, where their only conches are troughs filled with straw and covered with a blanket. On these miserable beds, worse than many a man gives to his horse or dog, the victims lie in the coldest weather, without night-clothes, frequently creeping into the straw in order to keep warm. These poor unfortunates also are often fed in a way as disgusting as it is cruel, being laid on their backs, and held down by one of the nurses, while another forces into the mouth the bread and milk which is their allotted food. This revolting practice is adopted to save time, for it was proved on oath that patients, thus treated, ate their meals by themselves, if allowed sufficient leisure. The imbecile patients, instead of being bathed with decency, as humanity and health demands, are thrown on the stone-floor, in a state of nudity, and there mopped by the nurses. Such things would seem incredible, if they had not been proved on oath. Some who were not incurable, having been treated in this manner, exposed these atrocities, after their recovery; and the result was an investigation, which led to the discovery of the abominable manner in which this vast charity has been administered." These things are a necessary consequence of an universal trading spirit. For the first time in the annals of the world it has been proclaimed in England that the paramount object of desire with the people of a great and Christian nation is to buy cheaply and sell dearly; and when men find themselves, in self-defence, compelled to beat down the poor sewing-woman to a penny for making a shirt, or the poor flower-girl to a scale of wages so low that she must resort to prostitution for the purpose of supporting life, they can neither be expected to be charitable themselves, nor to tolerate much charity in the public officers charged with the expenditure of their contributions. There is consequently everywhere to be seen a degree of harshness in the treatment of those who have the misfortune to be poor, and a degree of contempt in the mode of speech adopted in relation to them, totally incompatible with the idea of advance in _real_ civilization. * * * * * The facts thus far given rest, as the reader will have seen, on the highest English authority. It is scarcely possible to study them without arriving at the conclusion that the labouring people of England are gradually losing all control over the disposition of their own labour--or in other words, that they are becoming enslaved--and that with the decay of freedom there has been a decay of morality, such as has been observed in every other country similarly circumstanced. To ascertain the cause of this we must refer again to Adam Smith, who tells us that-- "No equal quantity of productive labour or capital employed in manufacture can ever occasion so great a reproduction as if it were employed in agriculture. In these, nature does nothing, man does all, and the reproduction must always be proportioned to the strength of the agents that occasion it. The capital employed in agriculture, therefore, not only puts into motion a greater quantity of productive labour than any equal capital employed in manufacture; but, in proportion, too, to the quantity of productive labour which it employs, it adds a much greater value to the annual value of the land and labour of the country, to the real wealth and revenue of its inhabitants. Of all the ways which a capital can be employed, it is by far the most advantageous to society." This is the starting point of his whole system, and is directly the opposite of that from which starts the modern English politico-economical school that professes to follow in his footsteps, as will now be shown. The passage here given, which really constitutes the base upon which rests the whole structure of Dr. Smith's work, is regarded by Mr. McCulloch as "the most objectionable" one in it, and he expresses great surprise that "so acute and sagacious a reasoner should have maintained a doctrine so manifestly erroneous." "So far indeed," says that gentleman-- "Is it from being true that nature does much for man in agriculture, and nothing for manufactures, that the fact is more nearly the reverse. There are no limits to the bounty of nature in manufactures; but there are limits, and those not very remote, to her bounty in agriculture. The greatest possible amount of capital might be expended in the construction of steam-engines, or of any other sort of machinery, and, after they had been multiplied indefinitely, the last would be as prompt and efficient in producing commodities and saving labour as the first. Such, however, is not the case with the soil. Lands of the first quality are speedily exhausted; and it is impossible to apply capital indefinitely even to the best soils, without obtaining from it a constantly diminishing rate of profit."--_Principles of Political Economy_. The error here results from the general error of Mr. Ricardo's system, which places the poor cultivator among the rich soils of the swamps and river-bottoms, and sends his rich successors to the poor soils of the hills,--being directly the reverse of what has happened in every country of the world, in every county in England, and on every farm in each and all of those counties.[138] Had he not been misled by the idea of "the constantly increasing sterility of the soil," Mr. McCulloch could not have failed to see that the only advantage resulting from the use of the steam-engine, or the loom, or any other machine in use for the conversion of the products of the earth, was, that it diminished the quantity of labour required to be so applied, and increased the quantity that might be given to the work of production. It is quite true that wheelbarrows and carts, wagons and ships, may be increased indefinitely; but of what use can they possibly be, unless the things to be carried be first produced, and whence can those things be obtained except from the earth? The grist-mill is useful, provided there is grain to be ground, but not otherwise. The cotton-mill would be useless unless the cotton was first produced. Agriculture _must_ precede manufactures, and last of all, says Dr. Smith, comes foreign commerce.[139] The reader has had before him a passage from Mr. J.S. Mill, in which that gentleman says that "if the law [of the occupation of the land] were different, almost all the phenomena of the production and distribution of wealth would be different from what they now are." In the days of Adam Smith it had not yet been suggested that men began by the cultivation of rich soils, and then passed to poor ones, with constantly diminishing power to obtain food. Population, therefore, had not come to be regarded as "a nuisance" to be abated by any measures, however revolting, and imposing upon Christian men the necessity of hardening their hearts, and permitting their fellow-men to suffer every extremity of poverty and distress "short of absolute death," with a view to bring about a necessity for refraining to gratify that natural inclination which leads men and women to associate in the manner tending to promote the growth of numbers and the development of the best feelings of the human heart. It was then considered right that men and women should marry, and increase of population was regarded as evidence of increased wealth and strength. Dr. Smith, therefore, looked at the affairs of the world as they were, and he saw that the production of commodities not only preceded their conversion and exchange, but that in the work of production the earth aided man by increasing the _quantity_ of things to, be consumed; whereas labour applied in other ways could change them only in their _form_ or in their _place_, making no addition to their quantity. He, therefore, saw clearly that the nearer the spinner and the weaver came to the producer of food and wool, the more would be the quantity of food and cloth to be divided between them; and thus was he led to see how great an act of injustice it was on the part of his countrymen to endeavour to compel the people of the world to send their raw materials to them to be converted, at such vast loss of transportation. He had no faith in the productive power of ships or wagons. He knew that the barrel of flour or the bale of cotton, put into the ship, came out a barrel of flour or a bale of cotton, the weight of neither having been increased by the labour employed in transporting it from this place of production to that of consumption. He saw clearly that to place the consumer by the side of the producer was to economize labour and aid production, and therefore to increase the power to trade. He was, therefore, in favour of the local application of labour and capital, by aid of which towns should grow up in the midst of producers of food; and he believed that if "human institutions" had not been at war with the best interests of man, those towns would "nowhere have increased beyond what, the improvement and cultivation of the territory in which they were situated could support." Widely different is all this from the system which builds up London, Liverpool, Manchester, and Birmingham, to be the manufacturing centres of the world, and urges upon all nations the adoption of a system looking directly to their maintenance and increase! Directly opposed in this respect to Dr. Smith, Mr. McCulloch has unbounded faith in the productive power of ships and wagons. To him-- "It is plain that the capital and labour employed in carrying commodities from where they are to be produced to where they are to be consumed, and in dividing them into minute portions so as to fit the wants of consumers, are really as productive as if they were employed in agriculture or in manufactures."--_Principles_, 166. The man who carries the food adds, as he seems to think, as much to the quantity to be consumed as did the one who ploughed the ground and sowed the seed; and he who stands at the counter measuring cloth adds as much to the quantity of cloth as did he who produced it. No benefit, in his view, results from any saving of the labour of transportation or exchange. He has, therefore, no faith in the advantage to be derived from the local application of labour or capital. He believes that it matters nothing to the farmer of Ireland whether his food be consumed on the farm or at a distance from it--whether his grass be fed on the land or carried to market--whether the manure be returned to the land or wasted on the road--whether, of course, the land be impoverished or enriched. He is even disposed to believe that it is frequently more to the advantage of the people of that country that the food there produced should be divided among the labourers of France or Italy than among themselves.[140] He believes in the advantage of large manufacturing towns at a distance from those who produce the food and raw materials of manufacture; and that perfect freedom of trade consists in the quiet submission of the farmers and planters of the world to the working of a system which Dr. Smith, regarded as tending so greatly to "the discouragement of agriculture," that it was the main object of his work to teach the people of Britain that it was not more unjust to others than injurious to themselves. In a work just issued from the press, Mr. McCulloch tells his readers that-- "For the reasons now stated, a village built in the immediate vicinity of a gentleman's seat generally declines on his becoming an absentee. That, however, is in most cases any thing but an injury. The inhabitants of such villages are generally poor, needy dependants, destitute of any invention, and without any wish to distinguish themselves. But when the proprietors are elsewhere, they are forced to trust to their own resources, and either establish some sort of manufacture, or resort to those manufacturing and commercial cities where there is _always_ a ready demand for labourers, and where every latent spark of genius is sure to be elicited. Although, therefore, it be certainly true that absenteeism has a tendency to reduce the villages which are found in the neighbourhood of the residences of extensive proprietors, it is not on that account prejudicial to the country at large, but the reverse."[141] It is here seen that the people who own large estates are supposed to be surrounded by "poor and needy dependants," who are to be stimulated to exertion by the pressure of want, and that this pressure is to be produced by the absenteeism of the proprietor. We have here the master administering the lash to his poor slave, and the only difference between the English master and the Jamaica one appears to be, that absenteeism in the one case forces the poor labourer to seek the lanes and alleys of a great city, and in the other causes him to be worked to death. The slavery of Ireland, Jamaica, and India is a natural consequence of the absenteeism of the great land-owners; and the larger the properties, the greater must be the tendency to absenteeism, centralization, and slavery; and yet Mr. McCulloch assures his readers that "The advantage of preserving large estates from being frittered down by a scheme of equal division is not limited to its effects on the younger children of their owners. It raises universally the standard of competence, and gives new force to the springs which set industry in motion. The manner of living in great landlords is that in which every one is ambitious of being able to indulge; and their habits of expense, though somewhat injurious to themselves, act as powerful incentives to the ingenuity and enterprise of other classes, who never think their fortunes sufficiently ample unless they will enable them to emulate the splendour of the richest landlords; so that the custom of primogeniture seems to render all classes more industrious, and to augment at the same time the mass of wealth and the scale of enjoyment."--_ Principles_. The modern system tends necessarily to the consolidation of land, and the more completely that object can be attained, the greater must, be "the splendour of the richest landlords," the greater the habits of expense among the few, the greater their power to absent themselves, the greater the power of the rapacious middleman or agent, the greater the poverty and squalor of "the poor and needy dependants," and the greater the necessity for seeking shelter in the cellars of Manchester, the wynds of Glasgow, or the brothels of London and Liverpool; but the larger must be the supply of the commodity called "cheap labour." In other words, slaves will be more numerous, and masters will be more able to decide on what shall be the employment of the labourer, and what shall be its reward. Adam Smith knew nothing of all this. He saw that capital was always best managed by its owner, and therefore had no faith in a universal system of agencies. He saw that the little proprietor was by far the greatest improver, and he had no belief in the advantage of great farmers surrounded by day-labourers. He believed in the advantage of making twelve exchanges in a year in place of one, and he saw clearly that the nearer the consumer could come to the producer the larger and more profitable would be commerce. He therefore taught that the workman should go to the place where, food being abundant, moderate labour would command much food. His successors teach that the food should come to the place where, men being abundant and food scarce, much labour will command little food, and that when population has thus been rendered superabundant, the surplus should go abroad to raise more food for the supply of those they left behind. The one teaches the concentration of man, and the _local_ division of labour. The other, the dispersion of man, and the _territorial_ division of labour. They differ thus in every thing, except that they both use the _word_ free trade--but with reference to totally distinct ideas. With the one, COMMERCE has that enlarged signification which embraces every description of intercourse resulting from the exercise of "man's natural inclination" for association, while with the other TRADE has reference to no idea, beyond that of the mere pedler who buys in the cheapest market and sells in the dearest one. The system of the one is perfectly harmonious, and tends toward peace among men. The other is a mass of discords, tending toward war among the men and the nations of the earth. As ordinarily used, the word Commerce has scarcely any signification except that of trade with distant men, and yet that is the least profitable commerce that can be maintained,--as the reader may satisfy himself if he will reflect that when the miller and the farmer are near neighbours they divide between them all the flour that is made, whereas, when they are widely separated, a third man, the carrier, intervenes between them and takes a large portion of it, leaving less to be divided between those who raise the wheat and those who convert it into flour. The more perfect the power of association the greater must be the power to maintain commerce, for _every act of association is an act of commerce_, as it is proposed now to show, beginning at the beginning, in the family, which long precedes the nation. Doing so, we find the husband exchanging his services in the raising of food and the materials of clothing, for those of his wife, employed in the preparation of food for the table, and the conversion of raw materials into clothing,--and here it is we find the greatest of all trades. Of all the labour employed on the farms and in the farm-houses of the Union, we should, could we have an accurate statement, find that the proportion of its products exchanged beyond their own limits, scarcely exceeded one-third, and was certainly far less than one-half, the remainder being given to the raising of food and raw materials for their own consumption, and the conversion of that food and those materials into the forms fitting them for their own uses. At the next step we find ourselves in the little community, of which the owner of this farm constitutes a portion; and here we find the farmer exchanging his wheat with one neighbour for a day's labour--the use of his wagon and his horse for other days of labour--his potatoes with a third for the shoeing of his horse, and with a fourth for the shoeing of himself and his children, or the making of his coat. On one day he or his family have labour to spare, and they pass it off to a neighbour to be repaid by him in labour on another day. One requires aid in the spring, the other in the autumn; one gives a day's labour in hauling lumber, in exchange for that of another, employed in mining coal or iron ore. Another trades the labour that has been employed in the purchase of a plough for that of his neighbour which had been applied to the purchase of a cradle. Exchanges being thus made on the spot, from hour to hour and from day to day, with little or no intervention of persons whose business is trade, their amount is large, and, combined with those of the family, equals probably four-fifths of the total product of the labour of the community, leaving not more than one-fifth to be traded off with distant men; and this proportion is often greatly diminished as with increasing population and wealth a market is made on the land for the products of the land. This little community forms part of a larger one, styled a nation, the members of which are distant hundreds or thousands of miles from each other, and here we find difficulties tending greatly to limit the power to trade. The man in latitude 40° may have labour to sell for which he can find no purchaser, while he who lives in latitude 50° is at the moment grieving to see his crop perish on the ground for want of aid in harvest. The first may have potatoes rotting, and his wagon and horses idle, while the second may need potatoes, and have his lumber on his hands for want of means of transportation--yet distance forbids exchange between them. Again, this nation forms part of a world, the inhabitants of which are distant tens of thousands of miles from each other, and totally unable to effect exchanges of labour, or even of commodities, except of certain kinds that will bear transportation to distant markets. Commerce tends, therefore, to diminish in its amount with every circumstance tending to increase the necessity for going to a distance, and to increase in amount with every one tending to diminish the distance within which it must be maintained. As it now stands with the great farming interest of the Union, the proportions are probably as follows:-- Exchanges in the family................... 55 per cent. " in the neighbourhood............ 25 " " in the nation................... 15 " " with other nations.............. 5 " --- Total.................................... 100 It will now be obvious that any law, domestic or foreign, tending to interfere with the exchanges of the family or the neighbourhood, would be of more serious importance than one that should, to the same extent, affect those with the rest of the nation, and that one which should affect the trade of one part of the nation with another, would be more injurious than one which should tend to limit the trade with distant nations. Japan refuses to have intercourse with either Europe or America, yet this total interdiction of trade with a great empire is less important to the farmers of the Union than would be the imposition of a duty of one farthing a bushel upon the vegetable food raised on their farms to be consumed in their families. The great trade is the home trade, and the greater the tendency to the performance of trade at home the more rapid will be the increase of prosperity, and the greater the power to effect exchanges abroad. The reason of this is to be found in the fact that the power of production increases with the power of combined exertion, and all combination is an exchange of labour for labour, the exchange being made at home. The more exchanges are thus effected the smaller is the number of the men, wagons, ships, or sailors employed in making them, and the greater the number of persons employed in the work of production, with increase in the quantity of commodities produced, and the _power_ to exchange grows with the power to produce, while the power to produce diminishes with every increase in the _necessity_ for exchange. Again, when the work of exchange is performed at home, the power of combination facilitates the disposal of a vast amount of labour that would otherwise be wasted, and an infinite number of things that would otherwise have no value whatever, but which, combined with the labour that is saved, are quite sufficient to make one community rich by comparison with another in which such savings cannot be effected. Virginia wastes more labour and more commodities that would have value in New England, than would pay five times over for all the cloth and iron she consumes. Again, the quantity of capital required for effecting exchanges tends to diminish as commerce comes nearer home. The ship that goes to China performs no more exchanges in a year than the canal-boat that trades from city to city performs in a month; and the little and inexpensive railroad car passing from village to village may perform almost twice as many as the fine packet-ship that has cost ninety or a hundred thousand dollars. With the extension of the home trade, labour and capital become, therefore, more productive of commodities required for the support and comfort of man, and the wages of the labourer and the profits of the capitalist tend to increase, and commerce tends still further to increase. On the other hand, with the diminution of the power to effect exchanges at home, labour and capital become less productive of commodities; the wages of the labourer and the profits of the capitalist tend to decrease, and trade tends still further to diminish. All this will be found fully exemplified among ourselves on a comparison of the years 1835-36 with 1841-42, while the contrary and upward tendency is exemplified by the years 1845-6 and 7, as compared with 1841-2. The fashionable doctrine of our day is, however, that the prosperity of a nation is to be measured by the amount of its trade with people, who are distant, as manifested by custom-house returns, and not by the quantity of exchanges among persons who live near each other, and who trade without the intervention of ships, and with little need of steamboats or wagons. If the trade of a neighbourhood be closed by the failure of a furnace or a mill, and the workman be thus deprived of the power to trade off the labour of himself or his children, or the farmer deprived of the power to trade off his food, consolation is found in the increased quantity of exports--_itself, perhaps, the direct consequence of a diminished ability to consume at home_. If canal-boats cease to be built, the nation is deemed to be enriched by the substitution of ocean steamers requiring fifty times the capital for the performance of the same quantity of exchanges. If the failure of mills and furnaces causes men to be thrown out of employment, the remedy is to be found, not in the revisal of the measures that have produced these effects, but in the exportation of the men themselves to distant climes, thus producing a necessity for the permanent use of ships instead of canal-boats, with diminished power to maintain trade, and every increase of this _necessity_ is regarded as an evidence of growing wealth and power. The whole tendency of modern commercial policy is to the substitution of the distant market for the near one. England exports her people to Australia that they may there grow the wool that might be grown at home more cheaply; and we export to California, by hundreds of thousands, men who enjoy themselves in hunting gold, leaving behind them untouched the real gold-mines--those of coal and iron--in which their labour would be thrice more productive. The reports of a late Secretary of the Treasury abound in suggestions as to the value of the distant trade. Steam-ships were, he thought, needed to enable us to obtain the control of the commerce of China and Japan. "With our front on both oceans and the gulf," it was thought, "we might secure this commerce, and with it, in time, command the trade of the world." England, not to be outdone in this race for "the commerce of the world," adds steadily to her fleet of ocean steamers, and the government contributes its aid for their maintenance, by the payment of enormous sums withdrawn from the people at home, and diminishing the home market to thrice the extent that it increases the foreign one. The latest accounts inform us of new arrangements about to be made with a view to competition with this country for the passenger traffic to and within the tropics, while the greatest of all trades now left to British ships is represented to be the transport of British men, women, and children, so heavily taxed at home for the maintenance of this very system that they are compelled to seek an asylum abroad. In all this there is nothing like freedom of trade, or freedom of man; as the only real difference between the freeman and the slave is, that the former exchanges himself, his labour and his products, while the latter must permit another to do it for him. Mr. McCulloch regards himself as a disciple of Adam Smith, and so does Lord John Russell. We, too, are his disciple, but in _The Wealth of Nations_, can find no warrant for the system advocated by either. The system of Dr. Smith tended to the production of that natural freedom of trade, each step toward which would have been attended with improvement in the condition of the people, and increase in the _power to trade_, thus affording proof conclusive of the soundness of the doctrine; whereas every step in the direction now known as free trade is attended with deterioration of condition, and _increased necessity_ for trade, with _diminished power_ to trade. Those who profess to be his followers and suppose that they are carrying out his principles, find results directly the reverse of their anticipations; and the reason for this may readily be found in the fact that the English school of political economists long since repudiated the whole of the system of Dr. Smith, retaining of it little more than _the mere words_ "free trade." The basis of all commerce is to be found in production, and therefore it was that Dr. Smith looked upon agriculture, the science of production, as the first pursuit of man, and manufactures and commerce as beneficial only to the extent that they tended to aid agriculture and increase the quantity of commodities to be converted or exchanged, preparatory to their being consumed. He held, therefore, that the return to labour would be greater in a trade in which exchanges could be made once a month than in another in which they could only be made once in a year, and he was opposed to the system then in vogue, because it had, "in all cases," turned trade, "From a foreign trade of consumption with a neighbouring, into one with a more distant country; in many cases, from a direct foreign trade of consumption, into a round-about one; and in some cases, from all foreign trade of consumption, into a carrying trade. It has in all cases, therefore," he continues, "turned it from a direction in which it would have maintained a greater quantity of productive labour, into one in which it can maintain a much smaller quantity." All this is directly the reverse of what is taught by the modern British economists; and we have thus two distinct schools, that of Adam Smith and that of his successors. The one taught that labour directly applied to production was most advantageous, and that by bringing the consumer to take his place by the side of the producer, production and the consequent power to trade would be increased. The other teaches, that every increase of capital or labour applied to production must be attended with diminished return, whereas ships and steam-engines may be increased _ad infinitum_ without such diminution: the necessary inference from which is, that the more widely the consumer and the producer are separated, with increased necessity for the use of ships and engines, the more advantageously labour will be applied, and the greater will be the power to trade. The two systems start from a different base, and tend in an opposite direction, and yet the modern school claims Dr. Smith as founder. While teaching a theory of production totally different, Mr. McCulloch informs us that "the fundamental principles on which the _production_ of wealth depends" were established by Dr. Smith, "beyond the reach of cavil or dispute." The difference between the two schools may be thus illustrated: Dr. Smith regarded commerce as forming a true pyramid, thus-- Exchanges abroad. Exchanges at home. Conversion into cloth and iron. Production of food and other raw materials. This is in exact accordance with what we know to be true; but according to the modern school, commerce forms an inverted pyramid, thus-- Exchanges with distant men. Exchanges at home. Conversion. Production. The difference between these figures is great, but not greater than that between two systems, the one of which regards the earth as the great and perpetually improving machine to which the labour of man may be profitably applied, while the other gives precedence to those very minute and perpetually deteriorating portions of it which go to the construction of ships, wagons, and steam-engines. An examination of these figures will perhaps enable the reader to understand the cause of the unsteadiness observed wherever the modern system is adopted. * * * * * It will be easy now to see why it is that the commercial policy of England has always been so diametrically opposed to that advocated by the author of _The Wealth of Nations_. He saw clearly that the man and the easily transported spindle should go to the food and the cotton, and that, when once there, 'they were there for ever; whereas the bulky food and cotton might be transported to the man and the spindle for a thousand years, and that the necessity for transportation in the thousand and first would be as great as it had been in the first; and that the more transportation was needed, the less food and cloth would fall to the share of both producer and consumer. His countrymen denied the truth of this, and from that day to the present they have endeavoured to prevent the other nations of the world from obtaining machinery of any kind that would enable them to obtain the aid of those natural agents which they themselves regard as more useful than the earth itself. "The power of water," says Mr. McCulloch-- "And of wind, which move our machinery, support our ships, and impel them over the deep--the pressure of the atmosphere, and the elasticity of steam, which enables us to work the most powerful engines, are they not the spontaneous gifts of nature? Machinery is advantageous only because it gives us the means of pressing some of the powers of nature into our service, and of making them perform the principal part of what, we must otherwise have wholly performed ourselves. In navigation is it possible to doubt that the powers of nature--the buoyancy of the water, the impulse of the wind, and the polarity of the magnet--contribute fully as much as the labours of the sailor to waft our ships from one hemisphere to another? In bleaching and fermentation the whole processes are carried on by natural agents. And it is to the effects of heat in softening and melting metals, in preparing our food, and in warming our houses, that we owe many of our most powerful and convenient instruments, and that those northern climates have been made to afford a comfortable habitation."--_Principles_, 165. This is all most true, but what does it prove in regard to British policy? Has not its object been that of preventing the people of the world from availing themselves of the vast deposites, of iron ore and of fuel throughout the earth, and thus to deprive them of the power to call to their aid the pressure of the atmosphere and the elasticity of steam? Has it not looked to depriving them of all power to avail themselves of the natural agents required in the processes of bleaching and fermentation, in softening woods, and melting metals, and was not that the object had in view by a distinguished statesman, since Chancellor of England, when he said, that "the country could well afford the losses then resulting from the exportation of manufactured goods, as its effect would be to smother in the cradle the manufactures of other nations?" Has not this been the object of every movement of Great Britain since the days of Adam Smith, and does not the following diagram represent exactly what would be the state of affairs if she could carry into full effect her desire to become "the workshop of the world?" \British ships/ Producers of raw materials\ / Consumers of cloth and iron Europe, Asia, Africa > < in Europe, Asia, Africa America / \ North and South America / And rails \ Mr. McCulloch insists that agriculture is less profitable than manufactures and trade, and his countrymen insist that all the world outside of England shall be one great farm, leaving to England herself the use of all the various natural agents required in manufactures and commerce, that they may remain poor while she becomes rich. There is in all this a degree of selfishness not to be paralleled, and particularly when we reflect that it involves a necessity on the part of all other nations for abstaining from those scientific pursuits required for the development of the intellect, and which so naturally accompany the habit of association in towns, for the purpose of converting the food, the wool, the hides, and the timber of the farmer into clothing and furniture for his use. It is the policy of barbarism, and directly opposed to any advance in civilization, as will be fully seen when we examine into its working in reference to any particular trade or country. The annual average production of cotton is probably seventeen hundred millions of pounds, or less than two pounds per head for the population of the world; and certainly not one-tenth of what would be consumed could they find means to pay for it; and not one-tenth of what would be good for them; and yet it is a drug, selling in India at two and three cents per pound, and commanding here at this moment, notwithstanding the abundance of gold, but eight or nine cents, with a certainty that, should we again be favoured, as we were a few years since, with a succession of large crops, it will fall to a lower point than it ever yet has seen: a state of things that could not exist were the people of the world to consume even one-third as much as would be good for them. Why do they not? Why is it that India, with her hundred millions of population, and with her domestic manufacture in a state of ruin, consumes of British cottons to the extent of only sixteen cents per head--or little more, probably, than a couple of yards of cloth? To these questions an answer may perhaps be found upon an examination of the circumstances which govern the consumption of other commodities; for we may be quite certain that cotton obeys precisely the same laws as sugar and coffee, wine and wheat. Such an examination would result in showing that when a commodity is at once produced at or near the place of growth in the form fitting it for use, the consumption is invariably large; and that when it has to go through many and distant hands before being consumed, it is as invariably small. The consumption of sugar on a plantation is large; but if it were needed that before being consumed it should be sent to Holland to be refined, and then brought back again, we may feel well assured that there would not be one pound consumed on any given plantation where now there are twenty, or possibly fifty. The consumption of cotton on the plantation is very small indeed, because, before being consumed, 'it has to be dragged through long and muddy roads to the landing, thence carried to New Orleans, thence to Liverpool, and thence to Manchester, after which the cloth has to be returned, the planter receiving one bale for every five he sent away, and giving the labour of cultivating an acre in exchange for fifty, sixty, or eighty pounds of its product. If, now, the people who raised the cotton were free to call to their aid the various natural agents of whose service it is the object of the British system to deprive them, and if, therefore, the work of converting it into cloth were performed on the ground where it was raised, or in its neighbourhood, is it not clear that the consumption would be largely increased? The people who made the cloth would be the consumers of numerous things raised on the plantation that are now wasted, while the facility of converting such things into cloth would be a bounty on raising them; and thus, while five times the quantity of cotton would be consumed, the real cost--that is, the labour cost--would be less than it is for the smaller quantity now used. So, too, in India. It may be regarded as doubtful if the quantity of cotton to day consumed in that country is one-half what it was half a century since--and for the reason that the number of people now interposed between the consumer and the producer is so great. The consumption of wine in France is enormous, whereas here there is scarcely any consumed; and yet the apparent excess of price is not so great as would warrant us in expecting to find so great a difference. The real cause is not so much to be found in the excess of price, though that is considerable, as in the mode of payment. A peasant in France obtains wine in exchange for much that would be wasted but for the proximity of the wine-vat, and the demand it makes for the labour of himself and others. He raises milk, eggs, and chickens, and he has fruit, cabbages, potatoes, or turnips, commodities that from their bulky or perishable nature cannot be sent to a distance, but can be exchanged at home. The farmer of Ohio cannot exchange his spare labour, or that of his horses, for wine, nor can he pay for it in peaches or strawberries, of which the yield of an acre might produce him hundreds of dollars--nor in potatoes or turnips, of which he can obtain hundreds of bushels; but he must pay in wheat, of which an acre yields him a dozen bushels, one-half of which are eaten up in the process of exchange between him and the wine-grower. Whenever the culture of the grape shall come to be established in that State, and wine shall be made at home, it will be found that the _gallons_ consumed will be almost as numerous as are now the _drops_. Look where we may, we shall find the same result. Wherever the consumer and the producer are brought into close connection with each other, the increase of consumption is wonderful, even where there is no reduction in the nominal price; and wherever they are separated, the diminution of consumption is equally wonderful, even where there is a reduction of the nominal price--and it is so because the facility of exchange diminishes as the distance increases. A man who has even a single hour's labour to spare may exchange it with his neighbour for as much cotton cloth as would make a shirt; but if the labour market is distant, he may, and will, waste daily as much time as would buy him a whole piece of cotton cloth, and may have to go shirtless while cotton is a drug. When the labour market is near, land acquires value and men become rich and free. When it is distant, land is of little value and men continue poor and enslaved. Before proceeding further, it would be well for the reader to look around his own neighbourhood, and see how many exchanges are even now made that could not be made by people that were separated even ten or twenty miles from each other, and how many conveniences and comforts are enjoyed in exchange for both labour and commodities that would be wasted but for the existence of direct intercourse between the parties--and, then to satisfy himself if the same law which may be deduced from the small facts of a village neighbourhood, will not be found equally applicable to the great ones of larger communities. Having reflected upon these things, let him next look at the present condition of the cotton trade, and remark the fact that scarcely any of the wool produced is consumed without first travelling thousands of miles, and passing through almost hundreds of hands. The places of production are India, Egypt, Brazil, the West Indies, and our Southern States. In the first, the manufacture is in a state of ruin. In the second, third, and fourth, it has never been permitted to have an existence; and in the last it has but recently made an effort to struggle into life, but from month to month we hear of the stoppage or destruction of Southern mills, and the day is apparently now not far distant when we shall have again to say that no portion of the cotton crop can be consumed in the cotton-growing region until after it shall have travelled thousands of miles in quest of hands to convert it into cloth. Why is this? Why is it that the light and easily transported spindle and loom are not placed in and about the cotton fields? The planters have labour, _that is now wasted_, that would be abundant for the conversion of half their crops, if they could but bring the machinery to the land, instead of taking the produce of the land to the machinery. Once brought there, it would be there for ever; whereas, let them carry the cotton to the spindle as long as they may, the work must still be repeated. Again, why is it that the people of India, to whom the world was so long indebted for all its cotton goods, have not only ceased to supply distant countries, but have actually ceased to spin yarn or make cloth for themselves? Why should they carry raw cotton on the backs of bullocks for hundreds of miles, and then send it by sea for thousands of miles, paying freights, commissions, and charges of all kinds to an amount so greatly exceeding the original price, to part with sixty millions of pounds of raw material, to receive in exchange eight or ten millions of pounds of cloth and yarn? Is it not clear that the labour of converting the cotton into yarn is not one-quarter as great as was the labour of raising, the cotton itself? Nevertheless, we here see them giving six or eight pounds of cotton for probably a single one of yarn, while labour unemployed abounds throughout India. Further, Brazil raises cotton, and she has spare labour, and yet she sends her cotton to look for the spindle, instead of bringing the spindle to look for the cotton, as she might so readily do. Why does she so? The answer to these questions is to be found in British legislation, founded on the idea that the mode of securing to the people of England the highest prosperity is to deprive all mankind, outside of her own limits, of the power to mine coal, make iron, construct machinery, or use steam, in aid of their efforts to obtain food, clothing, or any other of the necessaries of life. This system is directly opposed to that advocated by Adam Smith. Not only, said he, is it injurious to other nations, but it must be injurious to yourselves, for it will diminish the productiveness of both labour and capital, and will, at the same time, render you daily more and more dependent upon the operations of other countries, when you should be becoming more independent of them. His warnings were then, as they are now, unheeded; and from his day to the present, England has been engaged in an incessant effort utterly to destroy the manufactures of India, and to _crush every attempt elsewhere to establish any competition with her for the purchase of cotton_. The reader will determine for himself if this is not a true picture of the operations of the last seventy years. If it is, let him next determine if the tendency of the system is not that of enslaving the producers of cotton, white, brown, and black, and compelling them to carry all their wool to a single market, in which one set of masters dictates the price at which they _must_ sell the raw material and _must_ buy the manufactured one. Could there be a greater tyranny than this? To fully understand the working of the system in diminishing the power to consume, let us apply elsewhere the same principle, placing in Rochester, on the Falls of the Genesee, a set of corn-millers who had contrived so effectually to crush all attempts to establish mills in other parts of the Middle States, that no man could eat bread that had not travelled up to that place in its most bulky form, coming back in its most compact one, leaving at the mill all the refuse that might have been applied to the fattening of hogs and cattle--and let us suppose that the diagram on the following page represented the corn trade of that portion of the Union. \ Wagons and / Producers of food \ / Consumers of food in those states > < in those states / \ /Rochester mills\ Now, suppose all the grain of half a dozen States had to make its way through such a narrow passage as is above indicated, is it not clear that the owners of roads, wagons, and mills would be masters of the owners of land? Is it not clear that the larger the crops the higher would be freights, and the larger the charge for the use of mills, the smaller would be the price of a bushel of wheat as compared with that of a bag of meal? Would not the farmers find themselves to be mere slaves to the owners of a small quantity of mill machinery? That such would be the case, no one can even for a moment doubt--nor is it at all susceptible of doubt that the establishment of such a system would diminish by one-half the consumption of food, throughout those States, and also the power to produce it, for all the refuse would be fed at and near Rochester, and the manure yielded by it would be totally lost to the farmer who raised the food. The value of both labour and land would thus be greatly diminished. Admitting, for a moment, that such a system existed, what would be the remedy? Would it not be found in an effort to break down the monopoly, and thus to establish among the people the power to trade among themselves without paying, toll to the millers of Rochester? Assuredly it would; and to that end they would be seen uniting among themselves to induce millers to come and settle among them, precisely as we see men every where uniting to bring schools and colleges to their neighbourhood, well assured that a small present outlay is soon made up, even in a pecuniary point of view, in being enabled to keep their children at home while being educated, instead of sending them abroad, there to be boarded and lodged, while food is wasted at home that they might eat, and chambers are empty that they might occupy. Education thus obtained costs a parent almost literally nothing, while that for which a child must go to a distance is so costly that few can obtain it. Precisely so is it with food and with cloth. The mere labour of converting grain into flour is as nothing when compared with that required for its transportation hundreds of miles; and the mere labour required for the conversion of cotton into cloth is as nothing compared with the charges attendant upon its transportation from the plantation to Manchester and back again. Commercial centralization looks, however, to compelling the planter to pay treble the cost of conversion, in the wages and profits of the people employed in transporting and exchanging the cotton. Admitting that the grain and flour trade were thus centralized, what would be the effect of a succession of large crops, or even of a single one? Would not the roads be covered with wagons whenever they were passable, and even at times when, they were almost impassable? Would not every one be anxious to anticipate the apprehended fall of prices by being early in the market? Would not freights be high? Would not the farmer, on his arrival in Rochester, find that every store-house was filled to overflowing? Would not storage be high? Would he not approach the miller, cap in hand, and would not the latter receive him with his hat on his head? Assuredly such would be the case, and he would hear everywhere of the astonishing extent of "the surplus"--of how rapidly production was exceeding consumption--of the length of time his grain must remain on hand before it could be ground--of the low price of flour, &c. &c.;--and the result would be that the more grain carried to market the less would be carried back, and _the less he would be able to consume_; and at last he would arrive at the conclusion that the only effect of large crops granted him by the bounty of Heaven was that of enriching the miller at his expense, by compelling him to allow more toll for the privilege of creeping through the hole provided for him by the miller. He would pray for droughts and freshets--for storms and frosts--as the only means of escape from ruin. The reader may determine for himself if this is not a fair picture of the cotton trade? Do the planters profit by good crops? Assuredly not. The more they send to market the less they receive for it. Do they profit by improvements in the transportation of their commodity? Certainly not. With the growth of railroads, cotton has fallen in price, and will not this day command on the plantation near as much, per pound, as it did before the railroad was invented. In India, the cost of transportation from the place of production to England has fallen in the last forty years sevenpence,[142] and yet the grower of cotton obtains for it one-third less than he did before--receiving now little more than two cents, when before he had from three to four. Who profits by the reduction of cost of transportation and conversion? _The man who keeps the toll-gate through which it passes to the world_, and who opens it only gradually, so as to permit the increased quantity to pass through slowly, paying largely for the privilege. That all this is perfectly in accordance with the facts of the ease must be obvious to every reader. The planter becomes rich when crops are short, but then the mill-owner makes but little profit. He is almost ruined when crops are large, but then it is that the mill-owner is enriched--and thus it is that the system produces universal discord, whereas under a natural system there would be as perfect harmony of national, as there is of individual interests. We may now inquire how this would affect the farmers around Rochester. The consumption of the Middle States would be largely diminished because of the heavy expense of transporting the wheat to mill and the flour back again, and this would cause a great increase of the surplus for which a market must be elsewhere found. This, of course, would reduce prices, and prevent increase, if it did not produce large diminution in the value of land. The millers would become _millionaires_--great men among their poorer neighbours--and they would purchase large farms to be managed by great farmers, and fine houses surrounded by large pleasure-grounds. Land would become everywhere more and more consolidated, because people who could do so would fly from a country in which such a tyranny existed. The demand for labour would diminish as the smaller properties became absorbed. Rochester itself would grow, because it would be filled with cheap labour from the country, seeking employment, and because there would be great numbers of wagoners and their horses to be cared for, while porters innumerable would be engaged in carrying wheat in one direction and flour in another. Hotels would grow large, thieves and prostitutes would abound, and morals would decline. From year to year the millers would become greater men, and the farmers and labourers smaller men, and step by step all would find themselves becoming slaves to the caprices of the owners of a little machinery, the whole cost of which would scarcely exceed _the daily loss_ resulting from the existence of the system. By degrees, the vices of the slave would become more and more apparent. Intemperance would grow, and education would diminish, as the people of the surrounding country became more dependent on the millers for food and clothing in exchange for cheap grain and cheaper labour. The smaller towns would everywhere decline, and from day to day the millers would find it more easy so to direct the affairs of the community as to secure a continuance of their monopoly. Local newspapers would pass away, and in their stead the people throughout the country would be supplied with the Rochester _Times_, which would assure the farmers that cheap food tended to produce cheaper labour, and the land-owners that if they did not obtain high rents it was their own fault, the defect being in their own bad cultivation--and the more rapid the augmentation of the millers' fortunes, and of the extent of their pleasure-grounds, the greater, they would be assured, must be the prosperity of the whole people; even although the same paper might find itself obliged to inform its readers that the overgrown capital presented it as "A strange result of the terrible statistics of society, that there was upon an average one person out of twenty of the inhabitants of the luxurious metropolis every day destitute of food and employment, and every night without a place for shelter or repose?"--London _Times_. We have here slavery at home as a consequence of the determination, to subject to slavery people abroad. With each step in the growth of the millers' fortunes, and of the splendour of their residences, land would have become consolidated and production would have diminished, and the whole population would have tended more and more to become a mass of mere traders, producing nothing themselves, but buying cheaply and selling dearly, and thus deriving their support from the exercise of the power to tax the unfortunate people forced to trade with them; a state of things in the highest degree adverse to moral, intellectual, or political improvement. The reader may now turn to the extracts from Mr. McCulloch's works already given, (page 240 _ante_,) and compare with them this view of the effects of supposed commercial centralization on this side of the Atlantic. Doing so, he will find it there stated that it is to the consolidation of the land, and to the luxury of the style of living of the great landlords, surrounded, as they, "in most cases" are, by "poor and needy dependants," whose necessities finally compel them to seek in large cities a market for their own labour, and that of their wives and children, that we are to look for an augmentation of "the mass of wealth and the scale of enjoyment!" Modern British political economy holds no single idea that is in harmony with the real doctrines of Adam Smith, and yet it claims him as its head! * * * * * The reader is requested now to remark-- I. That the system of commercial centralization sought to be established by Great Britain is precisely similar to the one here ascribed to the millers of Rochester, with the difference only, that it has for its object to compel all descriptions of raw produce to pass through England on its way from the consumer and the producer, even when the latter are near neighbours to each other, and England distant many thousand of miles from both. II. That to carry out that system it was required that all other nations should be prevented from obtaining either the knowledge or the machinery required for enabling them cheaply to mine coal, smelt iron ore, or manufacture machines by aid of which they could command the services of the great natural agents whose value to man is so well described by Mr. McCulloch. (See page 249 _ante_.) III. That this was at first accomplished by means of prohibitions, and that it is now maintained by the most strenuous efforts for cheapening labour, and thus depriving the labourer at home of the power to determine for whom he will work or what shall be his wages. IV. That the more perfectly this system can be carried out, the more entirely must all other nations limit themselves, men, women and children, to the labour of the field, and the lower must be the standard of intellect. V. That while the number of agriculturists in other countries must thus be increased, the power to consume their own products must be diminished, because of the great increase of the charges between the producer and the consumer. VI. That this, in turn, must be attended with an increase in the quantity of food and other raw materials thrown on the market of Britain, with great increase in the competition between the foreign and domestic producers for the possession of that market, and great diminution of prices. VII. That this tends necessarily to "discourage agriculture" in Britain, and to prevent the application of labour to the improvement of the land. VIII. That it likewise tends to the deterioration of the condition of the foreign agriculturist, who is thus deprived of the power to improve his land, or to increase the quantity of his products. IX. That the smaller the quantity of commodities produced, the less must be the power to pay for labour, and the less the competition for the purchase of the labourer's services. X. That with the decline in the demand for labour, the less must be the power of consumption on the part of the labourer, the greater must be the tendency to a glut of foreign and domestic produce, in the general market of the world, and the greater the tendency to a further diminution of the labourer's reward. XI. That, the greater the quantity of raw produce seeking to pass through the market of England, the greater must be the tendency to a decline in the value of English land, and the larger the charges of the owners of the mills, ships, and shops, through which the produce must pass, and the greater their power of accumulation, at the cost of both labour and land. XII. That the less the labour applied to the improvement of the soil, the more must the population of the country be driven from off the land, the greater must be the tendency of the latter toward consolidation, and the greater the tendency toward absenteeism and the substitution of great farmers and day-labourers for small proprietors, with further decline in production and in the demand for labour. XIII. That with the reduction of the country population, local places of exchange must pass away; and that labour and land must decline in power as ships, mills, and their owners become more united and more powerful. XIV. That the tendency of the whole system is, therefore, toward diminishing the value and the power of land, and toward rendering the labourer a mere slave to the trading community, which obtains from day to day more and more the power to impose taxes at its pleasure, and to centralize in its own hands the direction of the affairs of the nation; to the destruction of local self-government, and to the deterioration of the physical, moral, intellectual, and political condition of the people. In accordance with these views, an examination of the productive power of the United Kingdom should result in showing that production has not kept pace with population; and that such had been the ease we should be disposed to infer from the increasing demand for cheap labour, and from the decline that has unquestionably taken place in the control of the labourer over his own operations. That the facts are in accordance with this inference the reader may perhaps be disposed to admit after having examined carefully the following figures. In 1815, now thirty-eight years since, the declared value of the exports of the United Kingdom, of British produce and manufacture, was as follows:-- Of woollen manufactures............... £9,381,426 " cotton " ............... 20,620,000 " silk " ............... 622,118 " linen " ............... 1,777,563 And of other commodities.............. 19,231,684 ---------- Total................................. 51,632,791 In the same year there were imported of Wool.................................. 13,634,000 lbs. Cotton................................ 99,306,000 " Silk.................................. 1,807,000 " Flax.................................. 41,000,000 " Grain................................. 267,000 qrs. Flour................................. 202,000 cwts. Butter................................ 125,000 " Cheese................................ 106,000 " If to the raw cotton, wool, silk, and flax that were re-exported in a manufactured state, and to the dyeing materials and other articles required for their manufacture, we now add the whole foreign food, as above shown, we can scarcely make, of foreign commodities re-exported, an amount exceeding twelve, or at most thirteen millions, leaving thirty-eight millions as the value of the British produce exported in that year; and this divided among the people of the United Kingdom would give nearly £2 per head. In 1851 the exports, were as follows:-- Manufactures of wool.................... £10,314,000 " cotton.................. 30,078,000 " silk.................... 1,329,000 " flax.................... 5,048,000 All other commodities................... 21,723,569 ----------- Total................................... £68,492,569 We see thus that nearly the whole increase that had taken place in the long period of thirty-six years was to be found in four branches of manufacture, the materials of which were wholly drawn from abroad, as is shown in the following statement of imports for that year:-- Wool.................................... 83,000,000 lbs. Cotton.................................. 700,000,000 " Silk.................................... 5,020,000 " Flax.................................... 135,000,000 " Eggs.................................... 115,000,000 " Oxen, cows, calves, sheep, hogs, &c..... 300,000 " Corn.................................... 8,147,675 qrs. Flour................................... 5,384,552 cwts. Potatoes................................ 635,000 " Provisions.............................. 450,000 " Butter.................................. 354,000 " Cheese.................................. 338,000 " Hams and lard........................... 130,000 " The wool imported was more than was required to produce the cloth exported, and from this it follows that the whole export represented foreign wool. The cotton, silk, flax, dyeing-materials, &c. exported were all foreign, and the food imported was adequate, or nearly so, to feed the people who produced the goods exported. Such being the case, it would follow that the total exports of British and Irish produce could scarcely have amounted to even £15,000,000, and it certainly could not have exceeded that sum--and that would give about 10s. per head, or one-fourth as much as in 1815. The difference between the two periods is precisely the same as that between the farmer and the shoemaker. The man who, by the labour of himself and sons, is enabled to send to market the equivalent of a thousand bushels of wheat, has first _fed himself and them_, and therefore he has _the whole proceeds_ of his sales to apply to the purchase of clothing, furniture, or books, or to add to his capital. His neighbour buys food and leather, and sells shoes. He _has been fed_, and the first appropriation to be made of the proceeds of his sales is to buy more food and leather; and all he has to apply to other purposes is _the difference_ between the price at which he buys and that at which he sells. Admitting that difference to be one-sixth, it would follow that his sales must be six times as large to enable him to have the same value to be applied to the purchase of other commodities than food, or to the increase of his capital. Another neighbour buys and sells wheat, or shoes, at a commission of five per cent., out of which he has _to be fed_. To enable him to have an amount of gross commissions equal to the farmer's sales, he must do twenty times as much business; and if, we allow one-half of it for the purchase of food, he must do forty times as much to enable him to have the same amount with which to purchase other commodities, or to increase his capital. Precisely so is it with a nation. When it sells its own food and leather, _it has fed itself_, and may dispose as it will of the whole amount of sales. When it buys food and leather, and sells shoes, _it has been fed_, and must first pay the producers of those commodities; and all that it can appropriate to the purchase of clothing or furniture, or to the increase, of its capital, is the _difference_; and, to enable it to have the same amount to be so applied, it must sell six times as much in value. When it acts as a mere buyer and seller of sugar, cotton, cloth, or shoes, it has _to be fed_ out of the differences, and then it may require forty times the amount of sales to yield the same result. These things being understood, we may now compare the two years above referred to. In the first, 1815, the sales of domestic produce amounted to.................... £38,600,000 And if to this we add the difference on £13,000,000..................................... 2,166,667 ----------- We obtain the amount, applicable to the purchase of other commodities than food................. £40,766,667 In the second, 1851, the sales of domestic produce were ........................................... £15,000,000 To which add differences on £53,492,000, say.... 9,000,000 ---------- We have, as applicable to other purposes than the purchase of food............................... £24,000,000 Divided among the population, of those years, it gives £2 per head in the first, and 16s. in the other; but even this, great as it is, does not represent in its full extent the decline that has taken place. The smaller the change of form made in the commodity imported before exporting it, the more nearly does the business resemble that of the mere trader, and the larger must be the quantity of merchandise passing, to leave behind the same result. In 1815, the export of yarn of any kind was trivial, because other countries were then unprovided with looms. In 1851 the export of mere yarn, upon which the expenditure of British labour had been only that of twisting it, was as follows:-- Cotton.................................. 144,000,000 lbs. Linen................................... 19,000,000 " Silk.................................... 390,000 " Woollen................................. 14,800,000 " The reader will readily perceive that in all these cases the foreign raw material bears a much larger proportion to the value than would have been the case had the exports taken place in the form of cloth. An examination of these facts can scarcely fail to satisfy him how deceptive are any calculations based upon statements of the amount of exports and imports; and yet it is to them we are always referred for evidence of the growing prosperity of England. With every year there must be an increasing tendency in the same direction, as the manufacturers of India are more and more compelled to depend on England for yarn, and as the nations of Europe become more and more enabled to shut out cloth and limit their imports to yarn. From producer, England has become, or is rapidly becoming, a mere trader, and trade has not grown to such an extent as was required to make amends for the change. She is therefore in the position of the man who has substituted _a trade_ of a thousand dollars a year for _a production_ of five hundred. In 1815, the people of the United Kingdom had to divide among themselves, then twenty millions in number, almost forty millions, the value of their surplus products exported to all parts of the earth. In 1851, being nearly thirty millions in number, they had to divide only fifteen millions, whereas had production been maintained, it should have reached sixty millions, or almost the total amount of exports. In place of this vast amount of _products_ for sale, they had only the _differences_ upon an excess trade of £40,000,000, and this can scarcely be estimated at more than eight or ten, toward making up a deficit of forty-five millions. Such being the facts, it will not now be difficult for the reader to understand why it is that there is a decline in the material and moral condition of the people. How this state of things has been brought about is shown by the steady diminution in the proportion of the population engaged in the work of production. Adam Smith cautioned his countrymen that "if the whole surplus produce of America in grain of all sorts, salt provisions, and fish," were "forced into the market of Great Britain," it would "interfere too much with the prosperity of our own people." He thought it would be a "great discouragement to agriculture." And yet, from that hour to the present, no effort has been spared to increase in all the nations of the world the surplus of raw produce, to be poured into the British market, and thus to produce competition between the producers abroad and the producers at home, to the manifest injury of both. The more the linen manufacture, or those of wool, hemp, or iron, could be discouraged abroad, the greater was the quantity of raw products to be sent to London and Liverpool, and the less the inducement for applying labour to the improvement of English land. For a time, this operation, so far as regarded food, was restrained by the corn-laws; but now the whole system is precisely that which was reprobated by the most profound political economist that Britain has ever produced. Its consequences are seen in the following figures:--In 1811, the proportion of the population of England engaged in agriculture was 35 per cent. In 1841 it had fallen to 25 per cent., and now it can scarcely exceed 22 per cent., and even in 1841 the actual number was less than it had been thirty years before.[143] Thus driven out from the land, Englishmen had to seek other employment, while the same system was annually driving to England tens of thousands of the poor people of Scotland and Ireland; and thus forced competition for the sale in England of the raw products of the earth produced competition there for the sale of labour; the result of which is seen in the fact that agricultural wages have been from 6s. to 9s. a week, and the labourer has become from year to year more a slave to the caprices of his employer, whether the great farmer or the wealthy owner of mills or furnaces. The total population of the _United Kingdom_ dependent upon agriculture cannot be taken at more than ten millions; and as agricultural wages cannot be estimated at a higher average than 5s. per week, there cannot be, including the earnings of women, more than 6s. per family; and if that be divided among four, it gives 1s. 6d. per head, or £3 18s. per annum, and a total amount, to be divided among ten millions of people, of 40 millions of pounds, or 192 millions of dollars. In reflecting upon this, the reader is requested to bear in mind that it provides wages for every week in the year, whereas throughout a considerable portion of the United Kingdom very much of the time is unoccupied. Cheap labour has, in every country, gone hand in hand with cheap land. Such having been the case, it may not now be difficult to account for the small value of land when compared with the vast advantages it possesses in being everywhere close to a market in which to exchange its raw products for manufactured ones, and also for manure. The reader has seen the estimate of _M. Thunen_, one of the best agriculturists of Germany, of the vast difference in the value of land in Mecklenburgh close to market, as compared with that distant from it; but he can everywhere see for himself that that which is close to a city will command thrice as much rent as that distant twenty miles, and ten times as much as that which is five hundred miles distant. Now, almost the whole land of the United Kingdom is in the condition of the best of that here described. The distances are everywhere small, and the roads are, or ought to be, good; and yet the total rental of land, mines, and minerals, is but £55,000,000, and this for an area of 70 millions of acres, giving an average of only about $3.60 per acre, or $9--less than £2,--per head of the population. This is very small indeed, and it tends to show to how great an extent the system must have discouraged agriculture. In 1815, with a population of only twenty millions, the rental amounted, exclusive of houses, mines, minerals, fisheries, &c., to fifty-two and a half millions, and the exports of the produce of British and Irish land were then almost three times as great as they are now, with a population almost one-half greater than it was then. The very small value of the land of the United Kingdom, when compared with its advantages, can be properly appreciated by the reader only after an examination of the course of things elsewhere. The price of food raised in this country is dependent, almost entirely, on what can be obtained for the very small quantity sent to England. "Mark Lane," as it is said, "governs the world's prices." It does govern them in New York and Philadelphia, where prices must be as much below those of London or Liverpool as the cost of transportation, insurance, and commissions, or there could be no export. Their prices, in turn, govern those of Ohio and Pennsylvania, Indiana and Illinois, which must always be as much below those of New York as the cost of getting the produce there. If, now, we examine into the mere cost of transporting the average produce of an acre of land from the farm to the market of England, we shall find that it would be far more than the average rental of English land; and yet that rental includes coal, copper, iron, and tin mines that supply a large portion of the world. Under such circumstances, land in this country should be of very small value, if even of any; and yet the following facts tend to show that the people of Massachusetts, with a population of only 994,000, scattered over a surface of five millions of acres, with a soil so poor that but 2,133,000 are improved, and possessed of no mines of coal, iron, tin, lead, or copper, have, in the short period they have occupied it, acquired rights in land equal, per acre, to those acquired by the people of England in their fertile soils, with their rich mines, in two thousand years. The cash value of the farms of that State in 1850 was $109,000,000, which, _divided over the whole surface_, would give $22 per acre, and this, at six per cent., would yield $1.32. Add to this the difference between wages of four, six, and eight shillings per week in the United Kingdom, and twenty or twenty-five dollars per month in Massachusetts, and it will be found that the return in the latter is quite equal to that in the former; and yet the price of agricultural produce generally, is as much below that of England as the cost of freight and commission, which alone are greater than the whole rent of English land. New York has thirty millions of acres, of which only twelve millions have been in any manner improved; and those she has been steadily exhausting, because of the absence of a market on or near the land, such as is possessed by England. She has neither coal nor other mines of any importance, and her factories are few in number; and yet the cash value of farms, as returned by the Marshal, was 554 millions of dollars, and that was certainly less than the real value. If we take the latter at 620 millions, it will gives $50 per acre for the improved land, or an average of $20 for all. Taking the rent at six per cent. on $50, we obtain $3 per acre, or nearly the average of the United Kingdom; and it would be quite reasonable to make the mines and minerals of the latter a set-off against the land that is unimproved. If the reader desire to understand the cause of the small value, of English land when compared with its vast advantages, he may find it in the following passage:-- "Land-owners possess extensive territories which owe little or nothing to the hand of the improver; where undeveloped sources of production lie wasting and useless in the midst of the most certain and tempting markets of the vast consuming population of this country."--_Economist_, London. Unfortunately, however, those markets are small, while the tendency of the whole British system is toward converting the entire earth into one vast farm for their supply, and thus preventing the application of labour to the improvement of land at home. The tendency of prices, whether of land, labour, or their products, is toward a level, and whatever tends to lessen the price of any of those commodities in Ireland, India, Virginia, or Carolina, tends to produce the same effect in England; and we have seen that such is the direct tendency of English policy with regard to the land of all those countries. With decline in value, there must ever be a tendency to consolidation, and thus the policy advocated by the _Economist_ produces the evil of which it so much and so frequently complains. The profits of farmers are generally estimated at half the rental, which would give for a total of rents and profits about 85 millions; and if to this be added the wages of agricultural labour, we obtain but about 125 millions, of which less than one-third goes to the labourer.[144] We have here the necessary result of consolidation of land--itself the result of an attempt to compel the whole people of the world to compete with each other in a single and limited market for the sale of raw produce. With every increase of this competition, the small proprietor has found himself less and less able to pay the taxes to which he was subjected, and has finally been obliged to pass into the condition of a day-labourer, to compete with the almost starving Irishman, or the poor native of Scotland, driven into England in search of employment; and hence have resulted the extraordinary facts that in many parts of that country, enjoying, as it does, every advantage except a sound system of trade, men gladly labour for six shillings ($1.44) a week; that women labour in the fields; and that thousands of the latter, destitute of a change of under-clothing, are compelled to go to bed while their chemises are being washed.[145] Driven from the land by the cheap food and cheap labour of Ireland, the English labourer has to seek the town, and there he finds himself at the mercy of the great manufacturer; and thus, between the tenant-farmer on the one hand, and the large capitalist on the other, he is ground as between the upper and the nether millstone. The result is seen in the facts heretofore given. He loses gradually all self-respect, and he, his wife, and his children become vagrants, and fall on the public for support. Of the wandering life of great numbers of these poor people some idea may be formed from the following statement of Mr. Mayhew[146] :-- "I happened to be in the country a little time back, and it astonished me to find, in a town with a population of 20,800, that no less than 11,000 vagabonds passed through the town in thirteen weeks. We have large classes known in the metropolis as the people of the streets." It will, however, be said that if cheap corn tend to drive him from employment, he has a compensation in cheaper sugar, cotton, coffee, rum, and other foreign commodities--and such is undoubtedly the case; but he enjoys these things at the cost of his fellow labourers, black, white, and brown, in this country, the West Indies, India, and elsewhere. The destruction of manufactures in this country in 1815 and 1816 drove the whole population to the raising of food, tobacco, and cotton; and a similar operation in India drove the people of that country to the raising of rice, indigo, sugar, and cotton, that _must_ go to the market of England, because of the diminution in the domestic markets for labour or its products. The diminished domestic consumption of India forces her cotton into the one great market, there to compete with that of other countries, and to reduce their prices. It forces the Hindoo to the Mauritius, to aid in destroying the poor negroes of Jamaica, Cuba, and Brazil; but the more the sugar and cotton that _must_ go to the distant market, the higher will be the freights, the lower will be the prices, the larger will be the British revenue, the greater will be the consumption, and the greater will be the "prosperity" of England, but the more enslaved will be the producers of those commodities. Competition for their sale tends to produce low prices, and the more the people of the world, men, women, and children, can be limited to agriculture, the greater must be the necessity for dependence on England for cloth and iron, the higher will be their prices, and the more wretched will be the poor labourer everywhere. The reader may perhaps understand the working of the system after an examination of the following comparative prices of commodities:-- 1815. 1852. ----- ----- England sells-- Bar iron, per ton.... £13 5s. 0d. ..... £9 0s. 0d. Tin, per cwt......... 7 0 0 ..... 5 2 0 Copper " ......... 6 5 0 ..... 5 10 0 Lead " ......... 1 6 6 ..... 1 4 0 England buys-- Cotton, per lb....... 0 1 6 ..... 0 0 6 Sugar, per cwt....... 3 0 0 ..... 1 0 0 While these principal articles of raw produce have fallen to one-third of the prices of 1815, iron, copper, tin, and lead, the commodities that she supplies to the world, have not fallen more than twenty-five per cent. It is more difficult to exhibit the changes of woven goods, but that the planters are constantly giving more cotton for less cloth will be seen on an examination of the following facts in relation to a recent large-crop year, as compared with the course of things but a dozen years before. From 1830 to 1835, the price of cotton here was about eleven cents, which we may suppose to be about what it would yield in England, free of freight and charges. In those years our average export was about 320,000,000, yielding about $35,000,000, and the average price of cotton cloth, per piece of 24 yards, weighing 5 lbs. 12 oz., was 7s. 10d., ($1.88,) and that of iron £6 10s. ($31.20.) Our exports would therefore have produced, delivered in Liverpool, 18,500,000 pieces of cloth, or about 1,100,000 tons of iron. In 1845 and 1846, the _home consumption_ of cotton by the people of England was almost the same quantity, say 311,000,000 pounds, and the average price here was 6-1/2 cents, making the product $20,000,000. The price of cloth then was 6s. 6-3/4 d., ($1.57 1/2,) and that of iron about £10, ($48;) and the result was, that the planters could have, for nearly the same quantity of cotton, about 12,500,000 pieces of cloth, or about 420,000 tons of iron, also delivered in Liverpool. Dividing the return between the two commodities, it stands thus:-- Average from: 1830 to 1835. 1845-6. Loss. ------------- ------------- ------- ----- Cloth, pieces.... 9,250,000 ... 6,250,000 ... 3,000,000 And iron, tons... 550,000 ... 210,000 ... 340,000 The labour required for converting cotton into cloth had been greatly diminished, and yet the proportion, retained by the manufacturers had greatly increased, as will now be shown:-- Weight of Cotton Retained Weight of given to the by the Cotton used. planters. manufacturers. ------------ ---------------- -------------- 1830 to 1835... 320,000,000... 110,000,000... 210,000,000 1845 and 1846.. 311,000,000... 74,000,000.... 237,000,000 In the first period, the planter would have had 34 per cent. of his cotton returned to him in the form of cloth, but in the second only 24 per cent. The grist miller gives the farmer from year to year a larger proportion of the product of his grain, and thus the latter has all the profit of every improvement. The cotton miller gives the planter from year to year a smaller proportion of the cloth produced. The one miller comes daily nearer to the producer. The other goes daily farther from him, for with the increased product the surface over which it is raised is increased. How this operates on a large scale will now be seen on an examination of the following facts:-- The declared or actual _value_ of exports of British produce in manufactures in 1815 was.. £51,632,971 And the _quantity_ of foreign merchandise retained for consumption in that year was....... £17,238,841 [147] This shows, of course, that the prices of the raw products of the earth were then high by comparison with those of the articles that Great Britain had to sell. In 1849, the _value_ of British exports was..... £63,596,025 And the _quantity_ of foreign merchandise retained for consumption was no less than....... £80,312,717 We see thus that while the value of exports had increased only _one-fourth_, the produce received in exchange was _almost five times greater_; and here it is that we find the effect of that _unlimited_ competition for the sale in England of the raw products of the world, and _limited_ competition for the purchase of the manufactured ones, which it is the object of the system to establish. The nation is rapidly passing from the strong and independent position of one that produces commodities for sale, into the weak and dependent one of the mere trader who depends for his living upon the differences between the prices at which he sells and those at which he buys--that is, upon his power to tax the producers and consumers of the earth. It is the most extraordinary and most universal system of taxation ever devised, and it is carried out at the cost of weakening and enfeebling the people of all the purely agricultural countries. The more completely all the world, outside of England, can be rendered one great farm, in which men, women, and children, the strong and the weak, the young and the aged, can be reduced to field labour as the only means of support, the larger will be the sum of those _differences_ upon which the English people are now to so great an extent maintained, but the more rapid will be the tendency everywhere toward barbarism and slavery. The more, on the other hand, that the artisan can be brought to the side of the farmer, the smaller must be the sum of these _differences_, or taxes, and the greater will everywhere be the tendency toward civilization and freedom; but the greater will be that English distress which is seen always to exist when the producers of the world obtain much cloth and iron in exchange for their sugar and their cotton. The English system is therefore a war for the perpetuation and extension of slavery. On a recent occasion the Chancellor of the Exchequer congratulated the House of Commons on the flourishing state of the revenue, notwithstanding, that, they had "In ten years repealed or reduced the duties on coffee, timber, currants, wool, sugar, molasses, cotton wool, butter, cheese, silk manufactures, tallow, spirits, copper ore, oil and sperm, and an amazing number of other articles, which produced a small amount of revenue, with respect to which it is not material, and would be almost preposterous, that I should trouble the House in detail. It is sufficient for me to observe this remarkable fact, that the reduction of your customs duties from 1842 has been systematically continuous; that in 1842 you struck off nearly £1,500,000 of revenue calculated from the customs duties; that in 1843 you struck off £126,000; in 1844, £279,000; in 1845, upwards of £3,500,000; in 1846, upwards of £1,150,000; in 1847, upwards of £343,000; in 1848, upwards of £578,000; in 1849, upwards of £384,000; in 1850, upwards of £331,000; and in 1851, upwards of £801,000--making an aggregate, in those ten years, of nearly £9,000,000 sterling." The reason of all this is, that the cultivator abroad is steadily giving more raw produce for less cloth and iron. The more exclusively the people of India can be forced to devote themselves to the raising of cotton and sugar, the cheaper they will be, and the larger will be the British revenue. The more the price of corn can be diminished, the greater will be the flight to Texas, and the cheaper will be cotton, but the larger will be the slave trade of America, India, and Ireland; and thus it is that the prosperity of the owners of mills and furnaces in England is always greatest when the people of the world are becoming most enslaved. It may be asked, however, if this diminution of the prices of foreign produce is not beneficial to the people of England. It is not, because it tends to reduce the general price of labour, the commodity they have to sell. Cheap Irish labour greatly diminishes the value of that of England, and cheap Irish grain greatly diminishes the demand for labour in England, while increasing the supply by forcing the Irish people to cross the Channel. The land and labour of the world have one common interest, and that is to give as little as possible to those who perform the exchanges, and to those who superintend them--the traders and the government. The latter have everywhere one common interest, and that is to take as much as possible from the producers and give as little as possible to the consumers, buying cheaply and selling dearly. Like fire and water, they are excellent servants, but very bad masters. The nearer the artisan comes to the producer of the food and the wool, the less is the power of the middleman to impose taxes, and the greater the power of the farmer to protect himself. The tendency of the British system, wherever found, is to impoverish the land-owner and the labourer, and to render both from year to year more tributary to the owners of an amount of machinery so small that its whole value would be paid by the weekly--if not even by the daily--loss inflicted upon the working population of the world by the system.[148] The more the owners of that machinery become enriched, the more must the labourer everywhere become enslaved. That such must necessarily be the case will be obvious to any reader who will reflect how adverse is the system to the development of intellect. Where all are farmers, there can be little association for the purpose of maintaining schools, or for the exchange of ideas of any kind. Employment being limited to the labours of the field, the women cannot attend to the care of their children, who grow up, necessarily, rude and barbarous; and such we see now to be the case in the West Indies, whence schools are rapidly disappearing. In Portugal and Turkey there is scarcely any provision for instruction, and in India there has been a decline in that respect, the extent of which is almost exactly measured by the age of the foreign occupation.[149] In the Punjab, the country last acquired, men read and write, but in Bengal and Madras they are entirely uneducated. Ireland had, seventy years since, a public press of great efficiency, but it has almost entirely disappeared, as has the demand for books, which before the Union was so great as to warrant the republication of a large portion of those that appeared in England. Scotland, too, seventy years since, gave to the Empire many of its best writers, but she, like Ireland, has greatly declined. How bad is the provision for education throughout England, and how low is the standard of intellect among a large portion of her manufacturing population, the reader has seen, and he can estimate for himself how much there can be of the reading of books, or newspapers among an agricultural population hired _by the day_ at the rate of six, eight, or even nine shillings a week--and it will, therefore not surprise him to learn that there is no daily newspaper published out of London. It _is_, however, somewhat extraordinary that in that city, there should be, as has recently been stated, but a single one that is not "published at a loss." That one circulates 40,000 copies, or more than twice the number of all the other daily papers united. This is a most unfavourable sign, for centralization and progress have never gone hand in hand with each other. The system, too, is repulsive in its character. It tends to the production of discord among individuals and nations, and hence it is that we see the numerous strikes and combinations of workmen, elsewhere so little known. Abroad it is productive of war, as is now seen in India, and as was so recently the case in China. In Ireland it is expelling the whole population, and in Scotland it has depopulated provinces. The vast emigration now going on, and which has reached the enormous extent of 360,000 in a single year, bears testimony to the fact that the repulsive power has entirely overcome the attractive one, and that the love of home, kindred, and friends is rapidly diminishing. How, indeed, could it be otherwise, in a country in which labour has been so far cheapened that the leading journal assures its readers that during a whole generation "man has been a drug, and population a nuisance?" The fact that such a declaration should be made, and that that and other influential journals should rejoice in the expulsion of a whole nation, is evidence how far an unsound system can go toward steeling the heart against the miseries of our fellow-creatures. These poor people do not emigrate voluntarily. They are forced to leave their homes, precisely as is the case with the negro slave of Virginia; but they have not, as has the slave, any certainty of being fed and clothed at the end of the journey. Nevertheless, throughout England there is an almost universal expression of satisfaction at the idea that the land is being rid of what is held to be its superabundant population; and one highly respectable journal,[150] after showing that at the same rate Ireland would be entirely emptied in twenty-four years, actually assures its readers that it views the process "without either alarm or regret," and that it has no fear of the process being "carried too far or continued too long." We see thus, on one hand, the people of England engaged in _shutting_ in the poor people of Africa, lest they should be forced to Cuba; and, on the other, rejoicing at evictions, as the best means of _driving out_ the poor people of Ireland. In all this there is a total absence of consistency; but so far as the Irish people are concerned, it is but a natural consequence of that "unsound social philosophy," based upon the Ricardo-Malthusian doctrine, which after having annihilated the small land-owner and the small trader, denies that the Creator meant that every man should find a place at his table, and sees no more reason why a poor labourer should have any more right to be fed, if willing to work, than the Manchester cotton-spinner should have to find a purchaser for his cloth. "Labour," we are told, is "a commodity," and if men _will_ marry and bring up children "to an overstocked and expiring trade," it is for them to take the consequences--and "_if we stand between the error and its consequences, we stand between the evil and its cure_--if we intercept the penalty (where it does not amount to positive death) we perpetuate the sin."[151] Such being the state of opinion in regard to the claims of labour, we need scarcely be surprised to find a similar state of things in regard to the rights of property. The act of emancipation was a great interference with those rights. However proper it might have been deemed to free the negroes, it was not right to cause the heaviest portion of the loss to be borne by the few and weak planters. If justice required the act, all should have borne their equal share of the burden. So again in regard to Ireland, where special laws have been passed to enable the mortgagees to sell a large portion of the land, rendered valueless by a system that had for long years prevented the Irishman from employing himself except in the work of cultivation. India appears likely now to come in for its share of similar legislation. Centralization has not there, we are told, been carried far enough. Private rights in land, trivial even as they now are,[152] must be annihilated. None, we are told, can be permitted "to stand between the cultivator and the government," even if the collection of the taxes "should render necessary so large an army of _employé_ as to threaten the absorption of the lion's share" of them.[153] In regard to the rights to land in England itself, one of her most distinguished writers says that "When the 'sacredness of property' is talked of, it should always be remembered that this sacredness does not belong in the same degree to landed property. No man made the land. * * * The claim of the land-owners to the land is altogether subordinate to the general policy of the state. * * * Subject to this proviso (that of compensation) the state is at liberty to deal with landed property as the general interests of the community may require, even to the extent, if it so happen, of doing with the whole what is done with a part whenever a bill is passed for a railroad or a street."--_J. S. Mill, Principles_, book ii. chap. ii. In regard to the disposal of property at the death of its owner, the same author is of opinion that "a certain moderate provision, such as is admitted to be reasonable in the case of illegitimate children, and of younger children" is all "that parents owe to their children, and all, therefore, which the state owes to the children of those who die intestate." The surplus, if any, he holds "it may rightfully appropriate to the general purposes of the community."--_Ibid_. Extremes generally meet. From the days of Adam Smith to the present time the policy of England has looked in the direction that led necessarily to the impoverishment of the small land-owner, and to the consolidation of land, and during the whole of that period we have been told of the superior advantages of large farms and great tenant-farmers; but now, when the injurious effects of the system are becoming from day to day more obvious, the question of the existence of _any right_ to land is being discussed, and we are told that "public reasons" existed "for its being appropriated," and if those reasons have "lost their force, the thing would be unjust." From this to confiscation the step would not be a very great one. No such idea certainly could exist in the mind of so enlightened a man as Mr. Mill, who insists upon compensation; but when a whole people, among whom the productive power is steadily diminishing as individual fortunes become more and more colossal, are told that the proprietors of land, great and small, receive compensation for its use, for no other reason than that they have been enabled to possess themselves of a monopoly of its powers, and that rent is to be regarded as "the recompense of no sacrifice whatever," but as being "received by those who neither labour nor put by, but merely hold out their hands to receive the offerings of the rest of the community,"[154] can we doubt that the day is approaching when the right to property in land will be tested in England, as it has elsewhere been? Assuredly not. Ricardo-Malthusianism tends directly to what is commonly called Communism, and at that point will England arrive, under the system which looks to the consolidation of the land, the aggrandizement of the few, and the destruction of the physical, moral, intellectual, and political powers of the whole body of labourers, abroad and at home, Where population and wealth increase together, there is always found a growing respect for the rights of persons and property. Where they decline, that respect diminishes; and the tendency of the whole British politico-economical system being toward the destruction of population and wealth at home and abroad, it tends necessarily toward agrarianism in its worst form. That such is the tendency of things in England we have the assurance of the London _Times_, by which, it has recently been shown, says Mr. Kay, "That during the last half century, every thing has been done to deprive the peasant of any interest in the preservation of public order; of any wish to maintain the existing constitution of society; of all hope of raising himself in the world, or of improving his condition in life; of all attachment to his country; of all feelings of there really existing any community of interest between himself and the higher ranks of society; and of all consciousness that he has any thing to lose by political changes; and that every thing has been done to render him dissatisfied with his condition, envious of the richer classes, and discontented with the existing order of things. "The labourer," he continues "has no longer any connection with the land which he cultivates; he has no stake in the country; he has nothing to lose, nothing to defend, and nothing to hope for. The word "cottage" has ceased to mean what it once meant--a small house surrounded by its little plot of land, which the inmate might cultivate as he pleased, for the support and gratification of his family and himself. The small freeholds have long since been bought up and merged in the great estates. Copyholds have become almost extinct, or have been purchased by the great land-owners. The commons, upon which the villagers once had the right of pasturing cattle for their own use, and on which, too, the games and pastimes of the villages were held, have followed the same course: they are enclosed, and now form part of the possessions of the great landowners. Small holdings of every kind have, in like manner, almost entirely disappeared. Farms have gradually become larger and larger, and are now, in most parts of the country, far out of the peasant's reach, on account of their size, and of the amount of capital requisite to cultivate them. The gulf between the peasant and the next step in the social scale--the farmer--is widening and increasing day by day. The labourer is thus left without any chance of improving his condition. His position is one of hopeless and irremediable dependence. The workhouse stands near him, pointing out his dismal fate if he falls one step lower, and, like a grim scarecrow, warning him to betake himself to some more hospitable region, where he will find no middle-age institutions opposing his industrious efforts."--Vol. i. 361. This is slavery, and it is an indication of poverty, and yet we hear much of the wealth of England. Where, however, is it? The whole rental of the land, houses, mills, furnaces, and mines of the United Kingdom but little exceeds one hundred millions of pounds sterling, of which about one-half is derived from buildings--and if we take the whole, perishable and imperishable, at twenty years' purchase, it is but two-thousand millions.[155] If next we add for machinery of all kinds, ships, farming stock and implements, 600 millions,[156] we obtain a total of only 2600 millions, or 12,500 millions of dollars, as the whole accumulation of more than two thousand years' given to the improvement of the land, the building of houses, towns, and cities--and this gives but little over 400 dollars per head. Sixty years since, New York had a population of only 340,000, and it was a poor State, and to this hour it has no mines of any importance that are worked. Throughout the whole period, her people have been exhausting her soil, and the product of wheat, on lands that formerly gave twenty-five and thirty bushels to the acre, has fallen to six or eight,[157] and yet her houses and lands are valued at almost twelve hundred millions of dollars, and the total value of the real and personal estate is not less than fifteen hundred millions, or about $500 per head--and these are the accumulations almost of the present century. The _apparent_ wealth of England is, however, great, and it is so for the same reason that Rome appeared so rich in the days of Crassus and Lucullus, surrounded by people owning nothing, when compared with the days when Cincinnatus was surrounded by a vast body of small proprietors. Consolidation of the land and enormous manufacturing establishments have almost annihilated the power profitably to use small capitals, and the consequence is that their owners are forced to place them in saving funds, life-insurance companies, and in banks at small interest, and by all of these they are lent out to the large holders of land and large operators in mills, furnaces, railroads, &c. As the land has become consolidated, it has been covered with mortgages, and the effect of this is to double the apparent quantity of property. While the small proprietors held it, it was assessed to the revenue as land only. Now, it is assessed, first, as land, upon which its owner pays a tax, and next as mortgage, upon which the mortgagee pays the income-tax. The land-owner is thus holding his property with other people's means, and the extent to which this is the case throughout England is wonderfully great. Banks trade little on their own capital, but almost entirely on that of others.[158] The capital of the Bank of England haying been expended by the government, it has always traded exclusively on its deposites and circulation. The East India Company has no capital, but a very large debt, and nothing to represent it; and the example of these great institutions is copied by the smaller ones. Life-insurance companies abound, and the capitals are said to be large, but "nine-tenths" of them are declared to be "in a state of ruinous insolvency;"[159] and it is now discovered the true mode of conducting that business is to have no capital whatsoever. The trade of England is to a great extent based on the property of foreigners, in the form of wool, silk, cotton, tobacco, sugar, and other commodities, sent there for sale, and these furnish much of the capital of her merchants. While holding this vast amount of foreign capital, they supply iron and cloth, for which they take the bonds of the people of other nations; and whenever the amount of these bonds becomes too large, there comes a pressure in the money market, and the prices of all foreign commodities are forced down, to the ruin of their distant owners. To the absence of real capital [160] it is due that revulsions are so frequent, and so destructive to all countries intimately connected with her; and it is a necessary consequence of the vast extent of trading on borrowed capital that the losses by bankruptcy are so astonishingly great. From 1839 to 1843, a period of profound peace, eighty-two private bankers became bankrupt; of whom forty-six paid _no dividends_, twelve paid under twenty-five per cent., twelve under fifty per cent., three under seventy-five per cent., and two under one hundred per cent.; leaving seven unascertained at the date of the report from which this statement is derived. The last revulsion brought to light the fact that many of the oldest and most respectable houses in London had been for years trading entirely on credit, and without even a shilling of capital; and in Liverpool the destruction was so universal that it was difficult to discover more than half a dozen houses to whom a cargo could be confided. Revulsions are a necessary consequence of such a state of things, and at each and every one of them the small manufacturer and the small trader or land-owner are more and more swept away, while centralization steadily increases--and centralization is adverse to the growth of wealth and civilization. The whole fabric tends steadily more and more to take the form of an inverted pyramid, that may be thus represented:-- Ships and mills, L a n d, Labour. In confirmation of this view we have the following facts given in a speech of Mr. George Wilson, at a _réunion_ in Manchester, a few weeks since:-- "In the five counties of Buckingham, Dorset, Wilts, Northampton, and Salop, 63 members were returned by 52,921 voters, while only the same number were returned by Lancashire and Yorkshire, with 89,669 county and 84,612 borough voters, making a total of 174,281. So that, if they returned members in proportion to voters alone, those five counties could only claim 19; while, if Lancashire took their proportion, it would be entitled to 207. There were twelve large cities or boroughs (taking London as a double borough) returning 24 members, with 192,000 voters, and a population of 3,268,218, and 388,000 inhabited houses. On the other side, 24 members were returned by Andover, Buckingham, Chippenham, Cockermouth, Totnes, Harwich, Bedford, Lymington, Marlborough, Great Marlborough, and Richmond; but they had only 3,569 voters, 67,434 inhabitants, and 1,373 inhabited houses. * * The most timid reformer and most moderate man would hardly object to the disfranchisement of those boroughs which had a population less than 5000, and to handing over the 20 members to those large constituencies." As the people of Ireland are driven from the land to London, Liverpool, or America, the claims of that country to representation necessarily diminish; and so with Scotland, as the Highlands and the Isles undergo the process of wholesale clearance. The same system that depopulates them tends to depopulate the agricultural counties of England, and to drive their people to seek employment in the great cities and manufacturing towns; and this, according to Mr. McCullogh,[161] is one of the principal advantages resulting from absenteeism. The wealthy few congregate in London, and the vast mass of poor labourers in the lanes and alleys, the streets and the cellars, of London and Liverpool, Birmingham and Sheffield, Manchester and Leeds; and thus is there a daily increasing tendency toward having the whole power over England and the world placed in the hands of the owners of a small quantity of machinery--the same men that but a few years since were described by Sir Robert Peel as compelling children to work sixteen hours a day during the week, and to appropriate a part of Sunday to cleaning the machinery--and the same that recently resisted every attempt at regulating the hours of labour, on the ground that all the profit resulted from the power to require "the last hour." Many of these gentlemen are liberal, and are actuated by the best intentions; but they have allowed themselves to be led away by a false and pernicious theory that looks directly to the enslavement of the human race, and are thus blinded to the consequences of the system they advocate; but even were they right, it could not but be dangerous to centralize nearly the whole legislative power in a small portion of the United Kingdom, occupied by people whose existence is almost entirely dependent on the question whether cotton is cheap or dear, and who are liable to be thrown so entirely under the control of their employers. With each step in this direction, consolidation of the land tends to increase, and there is increased necessity for "cheap labour." "The whole question" of England's manufacturing superiority, we are told, "has become one of a cheap and abundant supply of labour."[162] That is, if labour can be kept down, and the labourer can be prevented from having a choice of employers, then the system may be maintained, but not otherwise. Where, however, the labourer has not the power of determining for whom he will work, he is a slave; and to that condition it is that the system tends to reduce the English people, as it has already done with the once free men of India. Alarmed at the idea that the present flight from England may tend to give the labourer power to select his employer, and to have some control over the amount of his reward, the London _Times_ suggests the expediency of importing cheap labourers from Germany and other parts of the continent, to aid in underworking their fellow-labourers in America and in India. It has been well said that, according to some political economists, "man was made for the land, and not the land for man." In England, it would almost seem as if he had been made for cotton mills. Such would appear now to be the views of the _Times_, as, a quarter of a century since, they certainly were of Mr. Huskisson. The object of all sound political economy is that of raising the labourer, and increasing the dignity of labour. That of the English system is to "keep labour down," and to degrade the labourer to the condition of a mere slave; and such is its effect everywhere--and nowhere is its tendency in that direction more obvious than in England itself.[163] Consolidation of land on one side and a determination to underwork the world on the other, are producing a rapid deterioration of material and moral condition, and, as a natural consequence, there is a steady diminution in the power of local self-government. The diminution of the agricultural population and the centralization of exchanges have been attended by decay of the agricultural towns, and their remaining people become less and less capable of performing for themselves those duties to which their predecessors were accustomed--and hence it is that political centralization grows so rapidly. Scarcely a session of Parliament now passes without witnessing the creation of a new commission for the management of the poor, the drainage of towns, the regulation of lodging-houses, or other matters that could be better attended to by the local authorities, were it not that the population, is being so rapidly divided into two classes widely remote from each other--the poor labourer and the rich absentee landlord or other capitalist. With the decay of the power of the people over their own actions, the nation is gradually losing its independent position among the nations of the earth. It is seen that the whole "prosperity" of the country depends on the power to purchase cheap cotton, cheap sugar, and other cheap products of the soil, and it is feared that something may interfere to prevent the continuance of the system which maintains the domestic slave trade of this country. We are, therefore, told by all the English journals, that "England is far too dependent on America for her supply of cotton. There is," says the _Daily News_, "too much risk in relying on any one country, if we consider the climate and seasons alone; but the risk is seriously aggravated when the country is not our own, but is inhabited by a nation which, however friendly on the whole, and however closely allied with us by blood and language, has been at war with us more than once, and might possibly some day be so again." From month to month, and from year to year, we have the same note, always deepening in its intensity,--and yet the dependence increases instead of diminishing. On one day, the great prosperity of the country is proved by the publication of a long list of new cotton mills, and, on the next, we are told of-- "The frightful predicament of multitudes of people whom a natural disaster [a short crop of cotton] denies leave to toil--who must work or starve, but who cannot work because the prime material of their work is not to be obtained in the world."--_Lawson's Merchants' Magazine_, Dec. 1852. What worse slavery can we have than this? It is feared that this country will not continue to supply cheap cotton, and it is known that India cannot enlarge its export, and, therefore, the whole mind of England is on the stretch to discover some new source from which it may be derived, that may tend to increase the competition for its sale, and reduce it lower than it even now is. At one time, it is hoped that it may be grown in Australia--but cheap labour cannot there be had. At another, it is recommended as expedient to encourage its culture in Natal, (South Africa,) as there it can be grown, as we are assured, by aid of cheap--or slave--labour, from India.[164] It is to this feeling of growing dependence, and growing weakness, that must be attributed the publication of passages like the following, from the London _Times_:-- "It used to be said that if Athens, and Lacedæmon could but make up their minds to be good friends and make a common cause, they would be masters of the world. The wealth, the science, the maritime enterprise, and daring ambition of the one, assisted by the population, the territory, the warlike spirit, and stern institutions of the other, could not fail to carry the whole world before them. That was a project hostile to the peace and prosperity of mankind, and ministering only to national vanity. A far grander object, of more easy and more honourable acquisition, lies before England and the United States, and all other countries owning our origin and speaking our language. Let them agree not in an alliance offensive and defensive, but simply to never go to war with one another. Let them permit one another to develop as Providence seems to suggest, and the British race will gradually and quietly attain to a pre-eminence beyond the reach of mere policy and arms. The vast and ever-increasing interchange of commodities between the several members of this great family, the almost daily communications now opened across, not one, but several oceans, the perpetual discovery of new means of locomotion, in which steam itself now bids fair to be supplanted by an equally powerful but cheaper and more convenient agency--all promise to unite the whole British race throughout the world in one social and commercial unity, more mutually beneficial than any contrivance of politics. Already, what does Austria gain from Hungary, France from Algiers, Russia from Siberia, or any absolute monarchy from its abject population, or what town from its rural suburbs, that England does not derive in a much greater degree from the United States, and the United States from England? What commercial partnership, what industrious household exhibits so direct an exchange of services? All that is wanted is that we should recognise this fact, and give it all the assistance in our power. We cannot be independent of one another. The attempt is more than unsocial; it is suicidal. Could either dispense with the labour of the other, it would immediately lose the reward of its own industry. Whether national jealousy, or the thirst for warlike enterprise, or the grosser appetite of commercial monopoly, attempt the separation, the result and the crime are the same. We are made helps meet for one another. Heaven has joined all who speak the British language, and what Heaven has joined let no man think to put asunder." The allies of England have been Portugal and Ireland, India and the West Indies, and what is their condition has been shown. With Turkey she has had a most intimate connection, and that great empire is now prostrate. What inducement can she, then, offer in consideration of an alliance with her? The more intimate our connection, the smaller must be the domestic market for food and cotton, the lower must be their prices, and the larger must be the domestic slave trade, now so rapidly increasing. Her system tends toward the enslavement of the labourer throughout the earth, and toward the destruction everywhere of the value of the land; and therefore it is that she needs allies. Therefore; it is that the _Times_, a journal that but ten years since could find no term of vituperation sufficiently strong to be applied to the people of this country, now tells its readers that-- "It is the prospect of these expanding and strengthening affinities that imparts so much interest to the mutual hospitalities shown by British and American citizens to the diplomatic representatives of the sister States." "To give capital a fair remuneration," it was needed that "_the price of English labour should be kept down_;" and it has been kept down to so low a point as to have enabled the cotton mills of Manchester to supersede the poor Hindoo in his own market, and to drive him to the raising of cheap sugar to supply the cheap labour of England--and to supersede the manufacturers of this country, and drive our countrymen to the raising of cheap corn to feed the cheap labour of England, driven out of Ireland. Cheap food next forces the exportation of negroes from Maryland and Virginia to Alabama and Mississippi, there to raise cheap cotton to supersede the wretched cultivator of India; and thus, in succession, each and every part of the agricultural world is forced into competition with every other part, and the labourers of the world become from day to day more enslaved; and all because the people of England are determined that the whole earth shall become one great farm, with but a single workshop, in which shall be fixed the prices of all its occupants have to sell or need to buy. For the first time in the history of the world, there exists a nation whose whole system of policy is found in the shopkeeper's maxim, Buy cheap and sell dear; and the results are seen in the fact that that nation is becoming from day to day less powerful and less capable of the exercise of self-government among the community of nations. From day to day England is more and more seen to be losing the independent position of the farmer who sells the produce of his own labour, and occupying more and more that of the shopkeeper, anxious to conciliate the favour of those who have goods to sell or goods to buy; and with each day there is increased anxiety lest there should be a change in the feelings of the customers who bring cotton and take in exchange cloth and iron. The records of history might be searched in vain for a case like hers--for a nation voluntarily subjecting itself to a process of the most exhaustive kind. They present no previous case of a great community, abounding in men of high intelligence, rejoicing in the diminution of the proportion of its people _capable of feeding themselves and others_, and in the increasing proportion _requiring to be fed_. England now exports in a year nearly 400,000 men and women that have been raised at enormous cost,[165] and she rejoices at receiving in exchange 300,000 infants yet to be raised. She exports the young, and retains the aged. She sends abroad the sound, and keeps at home the unsound. She expels the industrious, and retains the idle. She parts with the small capitalist, but she keeps the pauper. She sends men from her own land, and with them the commodities they must consume while preparing for cultivation distant lands;--and all these things are regarded as evidences of growing wealth and power. She sends men from where they could make twelve or twenty exchanges in a year to a distance from, which they can make but one; and this is taken as evidence of the growth of commerce. She sends her people from the land to become trampers in her roads, or to seek refuge in filthy lanes and cellars; and this is hailed as tending to promote the freedom of man. In all this, however, she is but realizing the prophecies of Adam Smith, in relation to the determination of his countrymen to see in foreign trade alone "England's treasure." In all nations, ancient and modern, freedom has come with the growth of association, and every act of association is an act of commerce. Commerce, and freedom grow, therefore, together, and whatever tends to lessen the one must tend equally to lessen the other. The object of the whole British system is to destroy the power of association, for it seeks to prevent everywhere the growth of the mechanic arts, and without them there can be no local places of exchange, and none of that combination so needful to material, moral, intellectual, and political improvement. That such has been its effect in Portugal and Turkey, the West Indies, and India, and in our Southern States, we know--and in all of these freedom declines as the power of association diminishes. That such has been its effect in Ireland and Scotland, the reader has seen. In England we may see everywhere the same tendency to prevent the existence of association, or of freedom of trade. Land, the great instrument of production, is becoming from day to day more consolidated. Capital, the next great instrument, is subjected to the control of the Bank of England--an institution that has probably caused more ruin than any other that has ever existed.[166] Associations for banking or manufacturing purposes are restrained by a system of responsibility that tends to prevent prudent men from taking part in their formation. The whole tendency of the system is to fetter and restrain the productive power; and hence it is that it has proved necessary to establish the fact that the great Creator had made a serious mistake in the laws regulating the increase of food and of men, and that the _cheapened_ labourer was bound to correct the error by repressing that natural desire for association which leads to an increase of population. The consequences of all this are seen in the fact that there is in that country no real freedom of commerce. There is no competition for the purchase of labour, and the labourer is therefore a slave to the capitalist. There is no competition for the use of capital, and its owner is a slave to his banker, who requires him to content himself with the smallest profits. There is scarcely any power to sell land, for it is everywhere hedged round with entails, jointures, and marriage settlements, that fetter and enslave its owner. There is no competition for obtaining "maidens in marriage," for the _Chronicle_ assures us that marriage now rarely takes place until the cradle has become as necessary as the ring;[167] and when that is the case, the man will always be found a tyrant and the woman a slave. In the effort to destroy the power of association, and the freedom of trade and of man abroad, England has in a great degree annihilated freedom at home; and all this she has done because, from the day of the publication of _The Wealth of Nations_, her every movement has looked to the perpetuation of the system denounced by its author as a "manifest violation of the most sacred rights of mankind." CHAPTER XV. HOW CAN SLAVERY BE EXTINGUISHED? How can slavery be extinguished, and man be made free? This question, as regarded England, was answered some years since by a distinguished anti-corn-law orator, when he said that for a long time past, in that country, two men had been seeking one master, whereas the time was then at hand when two masters would be seeking one man. Now, we all know that when two men desire to purchase a commodity, it rises in value, and its owner finds himself more free to determine for himself what to do with it than he could do if there were only one person desiring to have it, and infinitely more free than he could be if there were two sellers to one buyer. To make men free there must be competition for the purchase of their services, and the more the competition the greater must be their value, and that of the men who have them to sell. It has already been shown [168] that in purely agricultural communities there can be very little competition for the purchase of labour; and that such is the fact the reader can readily satisfy himself by reflecting on the history of the past, or examining the condition of man as he at present exists among the various nations of the earth. History shows that labour has become valuable, and that man has become free, precisely as the artisan has been enabled to take his place by the side of the ploughman--precisely as labour has become diversified--precisely as small towns have arisen in which the producer of food and wool could readily exchange for cloth and iron--precisely as manure could more readily be obtained to aid in maintaining the productiveness of the soil--and precisely, therefore, as men have acquired the power of associating with their fellow-men. With the growth of that power they have everywhere been seen to obtain increased returns from land, increased reward of labour, and increased power to accumulate the means of making roads, establishing schools, and doing all other things tending to the improvement of their modes of action and their habits of thought; and thus it is that freedom of thought, speech, action, and trade have always grown with the growth of the value of labour and land. It is desired to abolish the _trade_ in slaves. No such trade could exist were men everywhere free; but as they are not so, it has in many countries been deemed necessary to prohibit the sale of men from off the land, as preliminary to the establishment of freedom. Nothing of this kind, however, can now be looked for, because there exists no power to coerce the owners of slaves to adopt any such measures; nor, if it did exist, would it be desirable that it should be exercised, as it would make the condition of both the slave and his master worse than it is even now. Neither is it necessary, because there exists "a higher law"--a great law of the Creator--that will effectually extinguish the trade whenever it shall be permitted to come into activity. Why is it that men in Africa sell their fellow-men to be transported to Cuba or Brazil? For the same reason, obviously, that other men sell flour in Boston or Baltimore to go to Liverpool or Rio Janeiro--because it is cheaper in the former than in the latter cities. If, then, we desired to put a stop to the export, would not our object be effectually accomplished by the adoption of measures that would cause prices to be higher in Boston than in Liverpool, and higher in Baltimore than in Rio? That such would be the case must be admitted by all. If, then, we desired to stop the export of negroes from Africa, would not our object be effectually and permanently attained could we so raise the value of man in Africa that he would be worth as much, or more, there than in Cuba? Would not the export of Coolies cease if man could be rendered more, valuable in India than in Jamaica or Guiana? Would not the destruction of cottages, the eviction of their inhabitants, and the waste of life throughout Ireland, at once be terminated, could man be made as valuable there as he is here? Would not the export of the men, women, and children of Great Britain cease, if labour there could be brought to a level with that of Massachusetts, New York, and Pennsylvania? Assuredly it would; for men do not voluntarily leave home, kindred, and friends. On the contrary, so great is the attachment to home, that it requires, in most cases, greatly superior attractions to induce them to emigrate. Adam Smith said that, of all commodities, man was the hardest to be removed--and daily observation shows that he was right. To terminate the African slave trade, we need, then, only to raise the value of man _in Africa_. To terminate the forced export of men, women, and children from Ireland, we need only to raise the value of men _in Ireland_; and to put an end to our own domestic slave trade, nothing is needed except that we raise the value of man _in Virginia_. To bring the trade in slaves, of all colours and in all countries, at once and permanently to a close, we need to raise the value of man _at home_, let that home be where it may. How can this be done? By precisely the same course of action that terminated the export of slaves from England to Ireland. In the days of the Plantagenets, men were so much more valuable in the latter country than in the former one, that the market of Ireland was "glutted with English slaves;" but as, by degrees, the artisan took his place by the side of the English ploughman, the trade passed away, because towns arose and men became strong to defend their rights as they were more and more enabled to associate with each other. Since then, the artisan has disappeared from Ireland, and the towns have decayed, and men have become weak because they have lost the power to associate, and, therefore, it is that the market of England has been so glutted with Irish slaves that man has been declared to be "a drug, and population a nuisance." Such precisely has been the course of things in Africa. For two centuries it had been deemed desirable to have from that country the same "inexhaustible supply of cheap labour" that Ireland has supplied to England; and, therefore, no effort was spared to prevent the negroes from making any improvement in their modes of cultivation. "It was," says Macpherson, "the European policy" to prevent the Africans from arriving at perfection in any of their pursuits, "from a fear of interfering with established branches of trade elsewhere." More properly, it was the English policy. "The truth is," said Mr. Pitt, in 1791-- "There is no nation in Europe which has plunged so deeply into this guilt as Britain. _We_ stopped the natural progress of civilization in Africa. _We_ cut her off from the opportunity of improvement. _We_ kept her down in a state of darkness, bondage, ignorance, and bloodshed. We have there subverted the whole order of nature; we have aggravated every natural barbarity, and furnished to every man motives for committing, under the name of trade, acts of perpetual hostility and perfidy against his neighbour. Thus had the perversion of British commerce carried misery instead of happiness to one whole quarter of the globe. False to the very principles of trade, unmindful of our duty, what almost irreparable mischief had we done to that continent! We had obtained as yet only so much knowledge of its productions as to show that there was a capacity for trade which we checked." How was all this done? By preventing the poor Africans from obtaining machinery to enable them to prepare their sugar for market, or for producing cotton and indigo and combining them into cloth--precisely the same course of operation that was pursued in Jamaica with such extraordinary loss of life. Guns and gunpowder aided in providing cheap labour, and how they were supplied, even so recently as in 1807, will be seen on a perusal of the following passage, from an eminent English authority, almost of our own day:-- "A regular branch of trade here, at Birmingham, is the manufacture of guns for the African market. They are made for about a dollar and a half: the barrel is filled with water, and if the water does not come through, it is thought proof sufficient. Of course, they burst when fired, and mangle the wretched negro, who has purchased them upon the credit of English faith, and received them, most probably, as the price of human flesh! No secret is made of this abominable trade, yet the government never interferes, and the persons concerned in it are not marked and shunned as infamous."--_Southey's "Espriella's Letters"_. It is deemed now desirable to have cheap labour applied to the collection of gold-dust and hides, palm-leaves and ivory, and the description of commodities at present exported to that country will be seen by the following cargo-list of the brig Lily, which sailed from Liverpool a few weeks since for the African coast, but blew up and was destroyed in the neighbourhood of the Isle of Man, to wit:-- 50 tons gunpowder, 20 puncheons rum, A quantity of firearms, and Some bale-goods. Such are not the commodities required for raising the value of man in Africa, and until it can be raised to a level with his value in Cuba, the export of men will be continued from the African coast as certainly as the export from Ireland will be continued so long as men are cheaper there than elsewhere; and as certainly as the trade described in the following letter will be continued, so long as the people India shall be allowed to do nothing but raise sugar and cotton for a distant market, and shall thus be compelled to forego all the advantages so long enjoyed by them under the native governments, when the history of the cotton manufacture was the history of almost every family in India:-- "_Havana_, Feb. 11, 1853. "On the morning of the 7th, arrived from Amoa, Singapore, and Jamaica, the British ship Panama, Fisher, 522 tons, 131 days' passage, with 261 Asiatics (Coolies) on board, to be introduced to the labour of the island, _purchased_ for a service of four years. The loss on the passage was a considerable percentage, being 90 thrown overboard. The speculators in this material are Messrs. Viloldo, Wardrop & Co., who have permission of the government to cover five thousand subjects. The cargo is yet held in quarantine. "On the 8th inst., arrived from Amoa and St. Helena, the ship Blenheim, Molison, 808 tons, 104 days' passage, bringing to the same consignees 412 Coolies. Died on the voyage, 38. Money will be realized by those who have the privilege of making the introduction, and English capital will find some play; but I doubt very much whether the purposes of English _philanthropy_ will be realized, for, reasoning from the past, at the expiration of the four years, nearly all have been sacrificed, while the condition of African labour will be unmitigated. A short term an cupidity strain the lash over the poor Coolie, and he dies; is secreted if he lives, and advantage taken of his ignorance for extended time when once merged in plantation-service, where investigation can be avoided."--_Correspondence of the New York Journal of _Commerce_. This trade is sanctioned by the British government because it provides an outlet for Hindoo labour, _rendered surplus_ by the destruction of the power of association throughout India, and yet the same government expends large sums annually in closing an outlet for African labour, rendered surplus by the rum and the gunpowder that are supplied to Africa! To stop the export of men from that important portion of the earth, it is required that we should raise the value of man in Africa, and to do this, the African must be enabled to have machinery, to bring the artisan to his door, to build towns, to have schools, and to make roads. To give to the African these things, and to excite in his breast a desire for something better than rum, gunpowder, and murder, and thus to raise the standard of morals and the value of labour, has been the object of the founders of the Republic of Liberia, one of the most important and excellent undertakings of our day. Thus far, however, it has been looked upon very coldly by all the nations of Europe, and it is but recently that it has received from any of them the slightest recognition and even now it is regarded solely as being likely to aid in providing cheap labour, to be employed in increasing the supplies of sugar and cotton, and thus cheapening those commodities in the market of the world, at the cost of the slaves of America and of India. Nevertheless it has made considerable progress. Its numbers now amount to 150,000,[169] a large proportion of whom are natives, upon whom the example of the colonists from this country has operated to produce a love of industry and a desire for many of the comforts of civilized life. By aid, generally, of persuasion, but occasionally by that of force, it has put an end to the export of men throughout a country having several hundred miles of coast. The difficulty, however, is that wages are very low, and thus there is but little inducement for the immigration of men from the interior, or from this country.[170] Much progress has thus been made, yet it is small compared with what, might be made could the republic offer greater inducements to settlers from the interior, or from this country; that is, could it raise the value of man, ridding itself of _cheap labour_. Where there is nothing but agriculture, the men must be idle for very much of their time, and the women and children _must_ be idle or work in the field; and where people are forced to remain idle they remain poor and weak, and they can have neither towns, nor roads, nor schools. Were it in the power of the republic to say to the people for hundreds of miles around, that there was a demand for labour every day in the year, and at good wages--that at one time cotton was to be picked, and at another it was to be converted into cloth--that in the summer the cane was to be cultivated, in the autumn the sugar was to be gathered, and in the winter it was to be refined--that at one time houses and mills were to be built, and at another roads to be made--that in one quarter stone was to be quarried, and in another timber to be felled--there would be hundreds of thousands of Africans who would come to seek employment, and each man that came would give strength to the republic while diminishing the strength of the little tyrants of the interior, who would soon find men becoming less abundant and more valuable, and it would then become necessary to try to retain their subjects. Every man that came would desire to have his wife and children follow him, and it would soon come to be seen that population and wealth were synonymous, as was once supposed to be the case in Europe. By degrees, roads would be made into the interior, and civilized black men would return to their old homes, carrying with them habits of industry and intelligence, a knowledge of agriculture and of the processes of the coarser manufactures, and with every step in this direction labour would acquire new value, and men would everywhere become more free. To accomplish these things alone and unassisted might, however, require almost centuries, and to render assistance would be to repudiate altogether the doctrine of cheap labour, cheap sugar, and cheap cotton. Let us suppose that on his last visit to England, President Roberts should have invoked the aid of the English Premier in an address to the following effect, and then see what must have been the reply:-- "My Lord: "We have in our young republic a population of 150,000, scattered over a surface capable of supporting the whole population of England, and all engaged in producing the same commodities,--as a consequence of which we have, and can have, but little trade among ourselves. During a large portion of the year our men have little to do, and they waste much time, and our women and children are limited altogether to the labours of the field, to the great neglect of education. Widely scattered, we have much need of roads, but are too poor to make them, and therefore much produce perishes on the ground. We cannot cultivate bulky articles, because the cost of transportation would be greater than their product at market; and of those that we do cultivate nearly the whole must be sent to a distance, with steady diminution in the fertility of the soil. We need machinery and mechanics. With them we could convert our cotton and our indigo into cloth, and thus find employment for women and children. Mechanics would need houses, and carpenters and blacksmiths would find employment, and gradually towns would arise and our people would be from day to day more enabled to make their exchanges at home, while acquiring increased power to make roads, and land would become valuable, while men would become from day to day more free. Immigration from the interior would be large, and from year to year we should be enabled to extend our relations with the distant tribes, giving value to their labour and disseminating knowledge, and thus should we, at no distant period, be enabled not only to put an end to the slave trade, but also to place millions of barbarians on the road to wealth and civilization. To accomplish these things, however, we need the aid and countenance of Great Britain." The reply to this would necessarily have been-- "Mr. President: "We are aware of the advantage of diversification of employments, for to that were our own people indebted for their freedom. With the immigration of artisans came the growth of our towns, the value of our land, and the strength of the nation. We are aware, too, of the advantages of those natural agents which so much assist the powers of man; but it is contrary to British policy to aid in the establishment of manufactures of any description in any part of the world. On the contrary, we have spared no pains to annihilate those existing in India, and we are now maintaining numerous colonies, at vast expense, for the single purpose of 'stifling in their infancy the manufactures of other nations.' We need large supplies of cotton, and the more you send us, the cheaper it will be; whereas, if you make cloth, you will have no cotton to sell, no cloth to buy. We need cheap sugar, and if you have artisans to eat your sugar, you will have none to send us to pay for axes or hammers. We need cheap hides, palm-leaves and ivory, and if your people settle themselves in towns, they will have less time to employ themselves in the collection of those commodities. We need cheap labour, and the cheaper your cotton and your sugar the lower will be the price of labour. Be content. Cultivate the earth, and send its products to our markets, and we will send you cloth and iron. You will, it is true, find it difficult to make roads, or to build schools, and your women will have to work in the sugar-plantations; but this will prevent the growth of population, and there will be less danger of your being compelled to resort to 'the inferior soils' that yield so much less in return to labour. The great danger now existing is that population may outrun food, and all our measures in Ireland, India, Turkey, and other countries are directed toward preventing the occurrence of so unhappy a state of things." Let us next suppose that the people of Virginia should address the British nation, and in the following terms:-- "We are surrounded by men who raise cotton wool, and we have in our own State land unoccupied that could furnish more sheep's wool than would be required for clothing half our nation. Within our limits there are water-powers now running to waste that could, if properly used, convert into cloth half the cotton raised in the Union. We have coal and iron ore in unlimited quantity, and are _daily_ wasting almost as much labour as would be required for making all the cloth and iron we consume in a month. Nevertheless, we can make neither cloth nor iron. Many of our people have attempted it, but they have, almost without exception, been ruined. When you charge high prices for cloth, we build mills; but no sooner are they built than there comes a crisis at 'the mighty heart of commerce,' and cloths are poured into our markets so abundantly and sold so cheaply, that our people become bankrupt. When you charge high prices for iron, as you _now_ do, we build furnaces; but no sooner are they ready than your periodical crisis comes, and then you sell iron so cheaply that the furnace-master is ruined. As a consequence of this, we are compelled to devote ourselves to raising tobacco and corn to go abroad, and our women and children are barbarized, while our lands are exhausted. You receive our tobacco, and you pay us but three pence for that which sells for six shillings, and we are thus kept poor. Our corn is too bulky to go abroad in its rude state, and to enable it to go to market we are obliged to manufacture it into negroes for Texas. We detest the domestic slave trade, and it is abhorrent to our feelings to sell a negro, but we have no remedy, nor can we have while, because of inability to have machinery, labour is so cheap. If we could make iron, or cloth, we should need houses, and towns, and carpenters, and blacksmiths, and then people from other States would flock to us, and our towns and cities would grow rapidly, and there would be a great demand for potatoes and turnips, cabbages and carrots, peas and beans, and then we could take from the land tons of green crops, where now we obtain only bushels of wheat. Land would then become valuable, and great plantations would become divided into small farms, and with each step in this direction labour would become more productive, and the labourer would from day to day acquire the power to determine for whom he would work and how he should be paid--and thus, as has been the case in all other countries, our slaves would become free as we became rich." To this what would be the reply? Must it not be to the following effect:-- "We need cheap food, and the more you can be limited to agriculture, the greater will be the quantity of wheat pressing upon our market, and the more cheaply will our cheap labourers be fed. We need large revenue, and the more you can be forced to raise tobacco, the larger our consumption, and the larger our revenue. We need cheap cotton and cheap sugar, and the less the value of men, women, and children in Virginia, the larger will be the export of slaves to Texas, the greater will be the competition of the producers of cotton and sugar to sell their commodities in our markets, and the lower will be prices, while the greater will be the competition for the purchase of our cloth, iron, lead, and copper, and the higher will be prices. Our rule is to buy cheaply and sell dearly, and it is only the slave that submits dearly to buy and cheaply to sell. Our interest requires that we should be the great work-shop of the world, and that we may be so it is needful that we should use all the means in our power to prevent other nations from availing themselves of their vast deposites of ore and fuel; for if they made iron they would obtain machinery, and be enabled to call to their aid the vast powers that nature has everywhere provided for the service of man. We desire that there shall be no steam-engines, no bleaching apparatus, no furnaces, no rolling-mills, except our own; and our reason for this is, that we are quite satisfied that agriculture is the worst and least profitable pursuit of man, while manufactures are the best and most profitable. It is our wish, therefore, that you should continue to raise tobacco and corn, and manufacture the corn into negroes for Texas and Arkansas; and the more extensive the slave trade the better we shall be pleased, because we know that the more negroes you export the lower will be the price of cotton. Our people are becoming from day to day more satisfied that it is 'for their advantage' that the negro shall 'wear his chains in peace,' even although it may cause the separation of husbands and wives, parents and children, and although they know that, in default of other employment, women and children are obliged to employ their labour in the culture of rice among the swamps of Carolina, or in that of sugar among the richest and most unhealthy lands of Texas. This will have one advantage. It will lessen the danger of over-population." Again, let us suppose the people of Ireland to come to their brethren across the Channel and say--"Half a century since we were rapidly improving. We had large manufactures of various kinds, and our towns were thriving, and schools were increasing in number, making a large, demand for books, with constantly increasing improvement in the demand for labour, and in its quality. Since then, however, a lamentable change has taken place. Our mills and furnaces have everywhere been closed, and our people have been compelled to depend entirely upon the land; the consequence of which is seen in the fact that they have been required to pay such enormous rents that they themselves have been unable to consume any thing but potatoes, and have starved by hundreds of thousands, because they could find no market for labour that would enable them to purchase even of them enough to support life. Labour has been so valueless that our houses have been pulled down by hundreds of thousands, and we find ourselves now compelled to separate from each other, husbands abandoning wives, sons abandoning parents, and brothers abandoning sisters. We fear that our whole nation will disappear from the earth; and the only mode of preventing so sad an event is to be found in raising the value of labour. We need to make a market at home for it and for the products of our land; but that we cannot have unless we have machinery. Aid us in this. Let us supply ourselves. Let us make cloth and iron, and let us exchange those commodities among ourselves for the labour that is now everywhere being wasted. We shall then see old towns flourish and new ones arise, and we shall have schools, and our land will become valuable, while we shall become free." The answer to this would necessarily be as follows:-- "It is to the cheap labour that Ireland has supplied that we are indebted for 'our great works,' and cheap labour is now more than ever needed, because we have not only to underwork the Hindoo but also to underwork several of the principal nations of Europe and America. That we may have cheap labour we must have cheap food. Were we to permit you to become manufacturers you would make a market at home for your labour and wages would rise, and you would then be able to eat meat and wheaten bread, instead of potatoes, and the effect of this would be to raise the price of food; and thus should we be disabled from competing with the people of Germany, of Belgium, and of America, in the various markets of the world. Further than this, were you to become manufacturers you would consume a dozen pounds of cotton where now you consume but one, and this would raise the price of cotton, as the demand for Germany and Russia has now raised it, while your competition with us might lower the price of cloth. We need to have cheap cotton while selling dear cloth. We need to have cheap food while selling dear iron. Our paramount rule of action is, 'buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest one'--and the less civilized those with whom we have to deal the cheaper we can always buy and the dearer we can sell. It is, therefore, to our interest that your women should labour in the field, and that your children should grow up uneducated and barbarous. Even, however, were we so disposed, you could not compete with us. Your labour is cheap, it is true, but after having, for half a century, been deprived of manufactures, you have little skill, and it would require many years for you to acquire it. Your foreign trade has disappeared with your manufactures, and the products of your looms would have no market but your own. When we invent a pattern we have the whole world for a market, and after having supplied the domestic demand, we can furnish of it for foreign markets so cheaply as to set at defiance all competition. Further than all this, we have, at very short intervals, periods of monetary crisis that are so severe as to sweep away many of our own manufacturers, and at those times goods are forced into all the markets of the world, to be sold at any price that can be obtained for them. Look only at the facts of the last few years. Six years since, railroad iron was worth £12 per ton. Three years since, it could be had for £4.10, or even less. Now it is at £10, and a year hence it may be either £12 or £4; and whether it shall be the one or the other is dependent altogether upon the movements of the great Bank which regulates all our affairs. Under such circumstances, how could your infant establishments hope to exist? Be content. The Celt has long been 'the hewer of wood and drawer of water for the Saxon,' and so he must continue. We should regret to see you all driven from your native soil, because it would deprive us of our supply of cheap labour; but we shall have in exchange the great fact that Ireland will become one vast grazing-farm, and will supply us with cheap provisions, and thus aid in keeping down the prices of all descriptions of food sent to our markets." The Hindoo, in like manner, would be told that his aid was needed for keeping down the price of American and Egyptian cotton, and Brazilian and Cuban sugar, and that the price of both would rise were he permitted to obtain machinery that would enable him to mine coal and iron ore, by aid of which to obtain spindles and looms for the conversion of his cotton into cloth, and thus raise the value of his labour. The Brazilian would be told that it was the policy of England to have cheap sugar, and that the more he confined himself and his people--men, women, and children--to the culture of the cane, the lower would be the prices of the product of the slaves of Cuba and the Mauritius. Seeing that the policy of England was thus directly opposed to every thing like association, or the growth of towns and other local places of exchange, and that it looked only to cheapening labour and enslaving the labourer, the questions would naturally arise: Can we not help ourselves? Is there no mode of escaping from this thraldom? Must our women always labour in the field? Must our children always be deprived of schools? Must we continue for ever to raise negroes for sale? Must the slave trade last for ever? Must the agricultural communities of the world be compelled for all time to compete against each other in one very limited market for the sale of all they have to sell, and the purchase of all they have to buy? Are there not some nations in which men are becoming more free, and might we not aid the cause of freedom by studying the course they have pursued and are pursuing? Let us; then, inquire into the policy of some of the various peoples of Continental Europe, and see if we cannot obtain an answer to these questions. CHAPTER XVI. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN NORTHERN GERMANY. Local action has always, to a considerable extent, existed in Germany. For a time, there was a tendency to the centralization of power in the hands of Austria, but the growth of Prussia at the north has produced counter attraction, and there is from day to day an increasing tendency toward decentralization, local activity, and freedom. It is now but little more than seventy years since the Elector of Hesse sold large numbers of his poor subjects to the government of England to aid it in establishing unlimited control over the people of this country. About the same period, Frederick of Prussia had his emissaries everywhere employed in seizing men of proper size for his grenadier regiments--and so hot was the pursuit, that it was dangerous for a man of any nation, or however free, if of six feet high, to place himself within their reach. The people were slaves, badly fed, badly clothed, and badly lodged, and their rulers were tyrants. The language of the higher classes was French, German being then regarded as coarse and vulgar, fit only for the serf. German literature was then only struggling into existence. Of the mechanic arts, little was known, and the people were almost exclusively agricultural, while the machinery used in agriculture was of the rudest kind. Commerce at home was very small, and abroad it was limited to the export of the rude products of the field, to be exchanged for the luxuries of London or Paris required for the use of the higher orders of society. Thirty years later, the slave trade furnished cargoes to many, if not most, of the vessels that traded between this country and Germany. Men, women, and children were brought out and sold for terms of years, at the close of which they became free, and many of the, most respectable people in the Middle States are descended from "indented" German servants. The last half century has, however, been marked by the adoption of measures tending to the complete establishment of the mechanic arts throughout Germany, and to the growth of places for the performance of local exchanges. The change commenced during the period of the continental system; but, at the close of the war, the manufacturing establishments of the country were, to a great extent, swept away, and the raw material of cloth was again compelled to travel to a distance in search of the spindle and the loom, the export of which from England, as well as of colliers and artisans, was, as the reader has seen, prohibited. But very few years, however, elapsed before it became evident that the people were becoming poorer, and the land becoming exhausted, and then it was that were commenced the smaller Unions for the purpose of bringing the loom to take its natural place by the side of the plough and the harrow. Step by step they grew in size and strength, until, in 1835, only twenty years after the battle of Waterloo, was formed the _Zoll-Verein_, or great German Union, under which the internal commerce was rendered almost entirely free, while the external one was subjected to certain restraints, having for their object to cause the artisan to come and place himself where food and wool were cheap, in accordance with the doctrines of Adam Smith. In 1825, Germany exported almost thirty millions of pounds of raw wool to England, where it was subjected to a duty of twelve cents per pound for the privilege of passing through the machinery there provided for its manufacture into cloth. Since that time, the product has doubled, and yet not only has the export almost ceased, but much foreign wool is now imported for the purpose of mixing with that produced at home. The effect of this has, of course, been to make a large market for both food and wool that would otherwise have been pressed on the market of England, with great reduction in the price of both; and woollen cloths are now so cheaply produced in Germany, that they are exported to almost all parts of the world. Wool is higher and cloth is lower, and, therefore, it is, as we shall see, that the people are now so much better clothed. At the date of the formation of the Union, the total import of raw cotton and cotton yarn was about 300,000 cwts., but so rapid was the extension of the manufacture, that in less than six years it had doubled, and so cheaply were cotton goods supplied, that a large export trade had already arisen. In 1845, when the Union, was but ten years old, the import of cotton and yarn had reached a million of hundredweights, and since that time there has been a large increase. The iron manufacture, also, grew so rapidly that whereas, in 1834, the consumption had been only _eleven_ pounds per head, in 1847 it had risen to _twenty-five pounds_, having thus more than doubled; and with each step in this direction, the people were obtaining better machinery for cultivating the land and for converting its raw products into manufactured ones. In no country has there been a more rapid increase in this diversification of employments, and increase in the demand for labour, than in Germany since the formation of the Union. Everywhere throughout the country men are now becoming enabled to combine the labours of the workshop with those of the field and the garden, and "the social and economical results" of this cannot, says Mr. Kay [171] -- "Be rated too highly. The interchange of garden-labour with manufacturing employments, which is advantageous to the operative, who works in his own house, is a real luxury and necessity for the factory operative, whose occupations are almost always necessarily prejudicial to health. After his day's labour in the factories, he experiences a physical reinvigoration from moderate labour in the open air, and, moreover, he derives from it some economical advantages. He is enabled by this means to cultivate at least part of the vegetables which his family require for their consumption, instead of having to purchase them in the market at a considerable outlay. He can sometimes, also, keep a cow, which supplies his family with milk, and provides a healthy occupation for his wife and children when they leave the factory." As a necessary consequence of this creation of a domestic market, the farmer has ceased to be compelled to devote himself exclusively to the production of wheat, or other articles of small bulk and large price, and can now "have a succession of crops," says Mr. Howitt-- "Like a market-gardener. They have their carrots, poppies, hemp, flax, saintfoin, lucerne, rape, colewort, cabbage, rutabaga, black turnips, Swedish and white turnips, teazles, Jerusalem artichokes, mangelwurzel, parsnips, kidney-beans, field beans, and peas, vetches, Indian corn, buckwheat, madder for the manufacturer, potatoes, their great crop of tobacco, millet--all or the greater part under the family management, in their own family allotments. They have had these things first to sow, many of them to transplant, to hoe, to weed, to clear off insects, to top; many of them to mow and gather in successive crops. They have their water-meadows--of which kind almost all their meadows are to flood, to mow, and reflood; watercourses to reopen and to make anew; their early fruits to gather, to bring to market, with their green crops of vegetables; their cattle, sheep, calves, fowls; (most of them prisoners,) and poultry to look after; their vines, as they shoot rampantly in the summer heat, to prune, and thin out the leaves when they are too thick; and any one may imagine what a scene of incessant labour it is."--_Rural and Domestic Life in Germany_, p. 50. The existence of a domestic market enables them, of course, to manure their land. "No means," says Mr. Kay-- "Are spared to make the ground produce as much as possible. Not a square yard of land is uncultivated or unused. No stories are left mingled with the soil. The ground is cleared of weeds and rubbish, and the lumps of earth are broken up with as much care as in an English garden. If it is meadow land, it is cleaned of obnoxious herbs and weeds. Only the sweet grasses which are good for the cattle are allowed to grow. All the manure from the house, farm, and yard is carefully collected and scientifically prepared. The liquid manure is then carried, in hand-carts like our road-watering carts into the fields, and is watered over the meadows in equal proportions. The solid manures are broken up, cleared of stones and rubbish, and are then properly mixed and spread over the lands which require them. No room is lost in hedges or ditches, and no breeding-places are left for the vermin which in many parts of England do so much injury to the farmers' crops. The character of the soil of each district is carefully examined, and a suitable rotation of crops is chosen, so as to obtain the greatest possible return without injuring the land; and the cattle are well housed, are kept beautifully clean, and are groomed and tended like the horses of our huntsmen."--Vol. i. 118. The labours of the field have become productive, and there has been excited, says Dr. Shubert-- "A singular and increasing interest in agriculture and in the breeding of cattle; and if in some localities, on account of peculiar circumstances or of a less degree of intelligence, certain branches of the science of agriculture are less developed than in other localities, it is, nevertheless, undeniable that an almost universal progress has been made in the cultivation of the soil and in the breeding of cattle. No one can any longer, as was the custom thirty years ago, describe the Prussian system of agriculture by the single appellation of the three-year-course system; no man can, as formerly, confine his enumeration of richly-cultivated districts to a few localities. In the present day, there is no district of Prussia in which intelligence, persevering energy, and an ungrudged expenditure of capital, has not immensely improved a considerable part of the country for the purposes of agriculture and of the breeding of cattle."[172] Speaking of that portion of Germany which lies on the Rhine and the Neckar, Professor Rau, of Heidelberg, says that-- "Whoever travels hastily through this part of the country must have been agreeably surprised with the luxuriant vegetation of the fields, with the orchards and vineyards which cover the hillside's, with the size of the villages, with the breadth of their streets, with the beauty of their official buildings, with the cleanliness and stateliness of their houses, with the good clothing in which the people appear at their festivities, and with the universal proofs of a prosperity which has been caused by industry and skill, and which has survived all the political changes of the times. * * * The unwearied assiduity of the peasants--who are to be seen actively employed the whole of every year and of every day, and who are never idle, because they understand how to arrange their work, and how to set apart for every time and season its appropriate duties--is as remarkable as their eagerness to avail themselves of every circumstance and of every new invention which can aid them, and their ingenuity in improving their resources, are praiseworthy. It is easy to perceive that the peasant of this district really understands his business. He can give reasons for the occasional failures of his operations; he knows and remembers clearly his pecuniary resources; he arranges his choice of fruits according to their prices; and he makes his calculations by the general signs and tidings of the weather."--_Landwirthshaft der Rheinpfalz_. The people of this country "stand untutored," says Mr. Kay, "except by experience; but," he continues-- "Could the tourist hear these men in their blouses and thick gaiters converse on the subject, he would be surprised at the mass of practical knowledge they possess, and at the caution and yet the keenness with which they study these advantages. Of this all may rest assured, that from the commencement of the offsets of the Eifel, where the village cultivation assumes an individual and strictly local character, good reason can be given for the manner in which every inch of ground is laid out, as for every balm, root, or tree that covers it."--Vol. i. 130. The system of agriculture is making rapid progress, as is always the case when the artisan is brought to the side of the husbandman. Constant intercourse with each other sharpens the intellect, and men learn to know the extent of their powers. Each step upward is but the preparation for a new and greater one, and therefore it is that everywhere among those small farmers, says Mr. Kay, "science is welcomed." "Each," he continues-- "Is so anxious to emulate and surpass his neighbours, that any new invention, which benefits one, is eagerly sought out and adopted by the others."--Vol. i. 149. The quantity of stock that is fed is constantly and rapidly increasing, and, as a necessary consequence, the increase in the quantity of grain is more rapid than in the population, although that of Prussia and Saxony now increases faster than that of any other nation of Europe.[173] The land of Germany is much divided. A part of this division was the work of governments which interfered between the owners and the peasants, and gave to the latter absolute rights over a part of the land they cultivated, instead of previous claims to rights of so uncertain a kind as rendered the peasant a mere slave to the land-owner. Those rights, however, could not have been maintained had not the policy of the government tended to promote the growth of population and wealth. Centralization would have tended to the reconsolidation of the land, as it has done in India, Ireland, Scotland, and England; but decentralization here gives value to land, and aids in carrying out the system commenced by government. Professor Reichensperger [174] says-- "That the price of land which is divided into small properties, in the Prussian Rhine provinces, is much higher, and has been rising much more rapidly, than the price of land on the great estates. He and Professor Rau both say that this rise in the price of the small estates would have ruined the more recent, purchasers, unless the productiveness of the small estates had increased in at least an equal proportion; and as the small proprietors have been gradually becoming more and more prosperous, notwithstanding the increasing prices they have paid for their land, he argues, with apparent justness, that this would seem to show that not only the _gross_ profits of the small estates, but the _net_ profits also, have been gradually increasing, and that the _net_ profits per acre of land, when farmed by small proprietors, are greater than the net profits per acre of land farmed by great proprietors."--_Kay_, vol. i. 116. The admirable effect of the division of land, which follows necessarily in the wake of the growth of population and wealth, is thus described by Sismondi:--[175] "Wherever are found peasant proprietors, are also found that ease, that security, that independence, and that confidence in the future, which insure at the same time happiness and virtue. The peasant who, with his family, does all the work on his little inheritance, who neither pays rent to any one above him, nor wages to any one below him, who regulates his production by his consumption, who eats his own corn, drinks his own wine, and is clothed with his own flax and wool, cares little about knowing the price of the market; for he has little to sell and little to buy, and is never ruined by the revolutions of commerce. Far from fearing for the future, it is embellished by his hopes; for he puts out to profit, for his children or for ages to come, every instant which is not required by the labour of the year. Only a few moments, stolen from otherwise lost time, are required to put into the ground the nut which in a hundred years will become a large tree; to hollow out the aqueduct which will drain his field for ever; to form the conduit which will bring him a spring of water; to improve, by many little labours and attentions bestowed in spare moments, all the kinds of animals and vegetables by which he is surrounded. This little patrimony is a true savings-bank, always ready to receive his little profits, and usefully to employ his leisure moments. The ever-acting powers of nature make his labours fruitful, and return to him a hundredfold. The peasant has a strong sense of the happiness attached to the condition of proprietor. Thus he is always eager to purchase land at any price. He pays for it more than it is worth; but what reason he has to esteem at a high price the advantage of thenceforward always employing his labour advantageously, without being obliged to offer it cheap, and of always finding his bread when he wants it, without being obliged to buy it dear!"--_Kay_; vol. i. 153. The German people borrow from the earth, and they pay their debts; and this they are enabled to do because the market is everywhere near, and becoming nearer every day, as, with the increase of population and wealth, men are enabled to obtain better machinery of conversion and transportation. They are, therefore, says Mr. Kay-- "Gradually acquiring capital, and their great ambition is to have land of their own. They eagerly seize every opportunity of purchasing a small farm; and the price is so raised by the competition, that land pays little more than two per cent. interest for the purchase-money. Large properties gradually disappear, and are divided into small portions, which sell at a high rate. But the wealth and industry of the population is continually increasing, being rather through the masses, than accumulated in individuals."--Vol. i. 183. The disappearance of large properties in Germany proceeds, _pari passu_, with the disappearance of small ones in England. If the reader desire to know the views of Adam Smith as to the relative advantages of the two systems, he may turn to the description, from his pen, of the feelings of the small proprietor, given in a former chapter;[176] after which he may profit by reading the following remarks of Mr. Kay, prompted by his observation of the course of things in Germany:-- "But there can be no doubt that five acres, the property of an intelligent peasant, who farms it himself, in a country where the peasants have learned to farm, will always produce much more per acre than an equal number of acres will do when farmed by a mere _leasehold_ tenant. In the case of the peasant proprietor, the increased activity and energy of the farmer, and the deep interest he feels in the improvement of his land, which are always caused by the fact of _ownership_, more than compensate the advantage arising from the fact that the capital required to work the large farms is less in proportion to the quantity of land cultivated than the capital required to work the small farm. In the cases of a large farm and of a small farm, the occupiers of which are both tenants of another person, and not owners themselves, it may be true that the produce of the large farm will be greater in proportion to the capital employed in cultivation than that of the small farm; and that, therefore, the farming of the larger farm will be the most economical, and will render the largest rent to the landlord."--Vol. i. 113. Land is constantly changing hands, and "people of all classes," says Mr. Kay-- "Are able to become proprietors. Shopkeepers and labourers of the towns purchase gardens outside the towns, where they and their families work in the fine evenings, in raising vegetables and fruit for the use of their households; shopkeepers, who have laid by a little competence, purchase farms, to which they and their families retire from the toil and disquiet of a town life; farmers purchase the farms they used formerly to rent of great land-owners; while most of the peasants of these countries have purchased and live upon farms of their own, or are now economizing and laying by all that they can possibly spare from their earnings, in order therewith as soon as possible to purchase a farm or a garden."--Vol. i. 58. We have here the strongest inducements to exertion and economy. Every man seeks to have a little farm, or a garden, of his own, and all have, says Mr. Kay-- "The consciousness that they have their fate in their own hands; that their station in life depends upon their own exertions; that they can rise in the world, if they will, only be patient and laborious enough; that they can gain an independent position by industry and economy; that they are not cut off by an insurmountable barrier from the next step in the social scale; that it is possible to purchase a house and farm of their own; and that the more industrious and prudent they are, the better will be the position of their families: [and this consciousness] gives the labourers of those countries, where the land is not tied up in the hands of a few, an elasticity of feeling, a hopefulness, an energy, a pleasure in economy and labour, a distaste for expenditure upon gross sensual enjoyments,--which would only diminish the gradually increasing store,--and an independence of character, which the dependent and helpless labourers of the other country can never experience. In short, the life of a peasant in those countries where the land is not kept from subdividing by the laws is one of the highest moral education. His unfettered position stimulates him to better his condition, to economize, to be industrious, to husband his powers, to acquire moral habits, to use foresight, to gain knowledge about agriculture, and to give his children a good education, so that they may improve the patrimony and social position he will bequeath to them."--Vol. i. 200. We have here the stimulus of hope of improvement--a state of things widely different from that described in a former chapter in relation to England, where, says the _Times_, "once a peasant, a man must remain a peasant for ever." Such is the difference between the one system, that looks to centralizing in the hands of a few proprietors of machinery power over the lives and fortunes of all the cultivators of the world, and the other, that looks to giving to all those cultivators power over themselves. The first is the system of slavery, and the last that of freedom. Hope is the mother of industry, and industry in her turn begets temperance. "In the German and Swiss towns," says Mr. Kay-- "There are no places to be compared to those sources of the demoralization of our town poor--the gin-palaces. There is very little drunkenness in either towns or villages, while the absence of the gin-palaces removes from the young the strong causes of degradation and corruption which exist at the doors of the English homes, affording scenes and temptations which cannot but Inflict upon our labouring classes moral injury which they would not otherwise suffer." * * * "The total absence of intemperance and drunkenness at these, and indeed at all other fêtes in Germany, is very singular. I never saw a drunken man either in Prussia or Saxony, and I was assured by every one that such a sight was rare. I believe the temperance of the poor to be owing to the civilizing effects of their education in the schools and in the army, to the saving and careful habits which the possibility of purchasing land; and the longing to purchase it, nourish in their minds, and to their having higher and more pleasurable amusements than the alehouse and hard drinking."-- Vol. i. 247, 261. As a natural consequence of this, pauperism is rare, as will be seen by the following extract from a report of the Prussian Minister of Statistics, given by Mr. Kay:-- "As our Prussian agriculture raises so much more meat and bread on the same extent of territory than it used to do, it follows that agriculture must have been greatly increased both in science and industry. There are other facts which confirm the truth of this conclusion. The division of estates has, since 1831, proceeded more and more throughout the country. There are now many more small independent proprietors than formerly. Yet, however many complaints of pauperism are heard among the dependent labourers, WE NEVER HEARD IT COMPLAINED THAT PAUPERISM IS INCREASING AMONG THE PEASANT PROPRIETORS. Nor do we hear that the estates of the peasants in the eastern provinces are becoming too small, _or that the system of freedom of disposition leads to too great a division of the father's land among the children_." * * * "_It is an almost universally acknowledged fact that the gross produce of the land, in grain, potatoes, and cattle, is increased when the land is cultivated by those who own small portions of it_; and if this had not been the case, it would have been impossible to raise as much of the necessary articles of food as has been wanted for the increasing population. Even on the larger estates, the improvement in the system of agriculture is too manifest to admit of any doubt.... Industry, and capital, and labour are expended upon the soil. It is rendered productive by means of manuring and careful tillage. The amount of the produce is increased.... The prices of the estates, on account of their increased productiveness, have increased. The great commons, many acres of which used to lie wholly uncultivated, are disappearing, and are being turned into meadows and fields. The cultivation of potatoes has increased very considerably. Greater plots of lands are now devoted to the cultivation of potatoes than ever used to be.... The old system of the three-field system of agriculture, according to which one-third of the field used to be left always fallow, in order to recruit the land, is now scarcely ever to be met with.... With respect to the cattle, the farmers now labour to improve the breed. Sheep-breeding is rationally and scientifically pursued on the great estates.... A remarkable activity in agricultural pursuits has been raised; and, as all attempts to improve agriculture are encouraged and assisted by the present government, agricultural colleges are founded, agricultural associations of scientific farmers meet in all provinces to suggest improvements to aid in carrying out experiments, and even the peasant proprietors form such associations among themselves, and establish model farms and institutions for themselves."--Vol. i. 266. The English system, which looks to the consolidation of land and the aggrandizement of the large capitalist, tends, on the contrary, to deprive the labourer "Of every worldly inducement to practise self-denial, prudence, and economy; it deprives him of every hope of rising in the world; it makes him totally careless about self-improvement, about the institutions of his country, and about the security of property; it undermines all his independence of character; it makes him dependent on the workhouse, or on the charity he can obtain by begging at the hall; and it renders him the fawning follower of the all-powerful land-owner."--Vol. i. 290. The change that has taken place in the consumption of clothing is thus shown:-- Per head in 1805. In 1842. ----------------- -------- Ells of cloth............. 3/4 ............ 1-1/5 " linen............. 4 ............ 5 " woollen stuffs.... 3/4 ............ 13 " silks............. 1/4 ............ 3/8 "The Sunday suit of the peasants," says Mr. Kay-- "In Germany, Switzerland, and Holland rivals that of the middle classes. A stranger taken into the rooms where the village dances are held, and where the young men and young women are dressed in their best clothes, would often be unable to tell what class of people were around him." * * * "It is very curious and interesting, at the provincial fairs, to see not only what a total absence there is of any thing like the rags and filth of pauperism, but also what evidence of comfort and prosperity there is in the clean and comfortable attire of the women."--Vol. i. 225, 227. In further evidence of the improvement of the condition of the female sex, he tells us that "An Englishman, taken to the markets, fairs, and village festivals of these countries, would scarcely credit his eyes were he to see the peasant-girls who meet there to join in the festivities; they are so much more lady-like in their appearance, in their manners, and in their dress than those of our country parishes."--Vol. i. 31. The contrast between the education of the children of the poor in Germany and England is thus shown:-- "I advise my readers to spend a few hours in any of our back streets and alleys, those nurseries of vice and feeders of the jails, and to assure himself that children of the same class as those he will see in [these] haunts--dirty, rude, boisterous, playing in the mud with uncombed hair, filthy and torn garments, and skin that looks as if it had not been washed for months--are always, throughout Germany, Switzerland, Denmark, Holland, and a great part of France, either in school or in the school play-ground, clean, well-dressed, polite and civil in their manners, and healthy, intelligent, and happy in their appearance. It is this difference in the early life of the poor of the towns of these countries which explains the astonishing improvement which has taken place in the state of the back streets and alleys of many of their towns. The majority of their town poor are growing up with tastes which render them unfit to endure such degradation as the filth and misery of our town pauperism."--Vol. i. 198. As a natural consequence, there is that tendency toward equality which everywhere else is attendant on _real_ freedom. "The difference," says Mr. Kay-- "Between the condition of the juvenile population of these countries and of our own may be imagined, when I inform my readers that many of the boys and girls of the higher classes of society in these countries are educated at the same desks with the boys and girls of the poorest of the people, and that children comparable with the class which attends our 'ragged schools' are scarcely ever to be found. How impossible it would be to induce our gentry to let their children be educated with such children as frequent the 'ragged schools,' I need not remind my readers."--P. 101. This tendency to equality is further shown in the following passage:-- "The manners of the peasants in Germany and Switzerland form, as I have already said, a very singular contrast to the manners of our peasants. They are polite, but independent. The manner of salutation encourages this feeling. If a German gentleman addresses a peasant, he raises his hat before the poor man, as we do before ladies. The peasant replies by a polite 'Pray be covered, sir,' and then, in good German, answers the questions put to him."--P. 159. With growing tendency to equality of fortune, as the people pass from slavery toward freedom, there is less of ostentatious display, and less necessity for that slavish devotion to labour remarked in England. "All classes," says Mr. Kay-- "In Germany, Switzerland, France, and Holland are therefore satisfied with less income than the corresponding classes in England. They, therefore, devote less time to labour, and more time to healthy and improving recreation. The style of living among the mercantile classes of these countries is much simpler than in England, but their enjoyment of life is much greater."--Vol. i. 303. As a consequence of this, the amusements of their leisure hours are of a more improving character, as is here seen:-- "The amusements of the peasants and operatives in the greater part of Germany, Switzerland, and Holland, where they are well educated, and where they are generally proprietors of farms or gardens, are of a much higher and of a much more healthy character than those of the most prosperous of similar classes in England. Indeed, it may be safely affirmed that the amusements of the poor in Germany are of a higher character than the amusements of the lower part of the middle classes in England. This may at first seem a rather bold assertion; but it will not be thought so, when I have shown what their amusements are. "The gardens, which belong to the town labourers and small shopkeepers, afford their proprietors the healthiest possible kind of recreation after the labours of the day. But, independently of this, the mere amusements of the poor of these countries prove the civilization, the comfort, and the prosperity of their social state." * * * "There are, perhaps, no peasantry in the world who have so much healthy recreation and amusement as the peasants of Germany, and especially as those of Prussia and Saxony. In the suburbs of all the towns of Prussia and Saxony regular garden, concerts and promenades are given. An admittance fee of from one penny to sixpence admits any one to these amusements." * * * "I went constantly to these garden-concerts. I rejoiced to see that it was possible for the richest and the poorest of the people to find a common meeting ground; that the poor did not live for labour only; and that the schools had taught the poor to find pleasure in such improving and civilizing pleasures. I saw daily proofs at these meetings of the excellent effects of the social system of Germany. I learned there how high a civilization the poorer classes of a nation are capable of attaining under a well-arranged system of those laws which affect the social condition of a people. I found proofs at these meetings of the truth of that which I am anxious to teach my countrymen, that the poorer classes of Germany are much less pauperized, much more civilized, and much happier than our own peasantry." * * * "The dancing itself, even in those tents frequented by the poorest peasants, is quite as good, and is conducted with quite as much decorum, as that of the first ballrooms of London. The polka, the waltz, and several dances not known in England, are danced by the German peasants with great elegance. They dance quicker than we do; and, from the training in music which they receive from their childhood, and for many years of their lives, the poorest peasants dance in much better time than English people generally do."--Vol. i. 235, 237, 240, 244. How strikingly does the following view of the state of education contrast with that given in a former chapter in relation to the education of the poor of England!-- "Four years ago the Prussian government made a general inquiry throughout the kingdom, to discover how far the school education of the people had been extended; and it was then ascertained that, out of all the young men in the kingdom who had attained the age of twenty-one years, _only two in every hundred were unable to read_. This fact was communicated to me by the Inspector-General of the kingdom. "The poor of these countries read a great deal more than even those of our own country who are able to read. It is a general custom in Germany and Switzerland for four or five families of labourers to club together, and to subscribe among themselves for one or two of the newspapers which come out once or twice a week. These papers are passed from family to family, or are interchanged." * * * "I remember one day, when walking near Berlin in the company of Herr Hintz, a professor in Dr. Diesterweg's Normal College, and of another teacher, we saw a poor woman cutting up in the road logs of wood for winter use. My companions pointed her out to me, and said, 'Perhaps you will scarcely believe it, but in the neighbourhood of Berlin poor women, like that one, read translations of Sir Walter Scott's novels, and of many of the interesting works of your language, besides those of the principal writers of Germany.' This account was afterward confirmed by the testimony of several other persons. "Often and often have I seen the poor cab-drivers of Berlin, while waiting for a fare, amusing themselves by reading German books, which they had brought with them in the morning expressly for the purpose of supplying amusement and occupation for their leisure hours. "In many parts of these countries, the peasants and the workmen of the towns attend regular weekly lectures or weekly classes, where they practise singing or chanting, or learn mechanical drawing, history, or science. "As will be seen afterward, women as well, as men, girls as well as boys, enjoy in these countries the same advantages, and go through the same, school education. The women of the poorer classes of these countries, in point of intelligence and knowledge, are almost equal to the men."--P. 63, 65. These facts would seem fully to warrant the author in his expression of the belief that "The moral, intellectual, and social condition of the peasants and operatives of those parts of Germany, Holland, Switzerland, and France where the poor have been educated, where the land has been released from the feudal laws, and where the peasants have been enabled to acquire, is very much higher, happier, and more satisfactory than that of the peasants and operatives of England; and that while these latter are struggling in the deepest ignorance, pauperism, and moral degradation, the former are steadily and progressively attaining a condition, both socially and politically considered, of a higher, happier, and more hopeful character."--Vol. i. 7. The extensive possession of property produces here, as everywhere, respect for the rights of property. "In the neighbourhood of towns," says Mr. Kay-- "The land is scarcely any more enclosed, except in the case of the small gardens which surround the houses, than in the more rural districts. Yet this right is seldom abused. The condition of the lands near a German, or Swiss, or Dutch town is as orderly, as neat, and as undisturbed by trespassers as in the most secluded and most strictly preserved of our rural districts. All the poor have friends or relations who are themselves proprietors. Every man, however poor, feels that he himself may, some day or other, become a proprietor. All are, consequently, immediately interested in the preservation of property, and in watching over the rights and interests of their neighbours."--P. 249. How strongly the same cause tends to the maintenance of public order, may be seen on a perusal of the following passages:-- "Every peasant who possesses one of these estates becomes interested in the maintenance of public order, in the tranquillity of the country, in the suppression of crimes, in the fostering of industry among his own children, and in the promotion of their intelligence. A class of peasant proprietors forms the strongest of all conservative classes." * * * "Throughout all the excitement of the revolutions of 1848, the peasant proprietors of France, Germany, Holland, and Switzerland were almost universally found upon the side of order, and opposed to revolutionary excesses. It was only in the provinces where the land was divided among the nobles, and where the peasants were only serfs, as in the Polish provinces, Bohemia, Austria, and some parts of South Germany, that they showed themselves rebellious. In Prussia they sent deputation after deputation to Frederic William, to assure him of their support; in one province the peasant proprietors elected his brother as their representative; and in others they declared, by petition after petition forwarded to the chamber, and by the results of the elections, how strongly they were opposed to the anarchical party in Berlin."--Vol. i. 33, 273. It is where land acquires value that men become free, and the more rapid the growth of value in land, the more rapid has ever been the growth of freedom. To enable it to acquire value, the artisan and the ploughman _must_ take their places by the side of each other; and the greater the tendency to this, the more rapid will be the progress of man toward moral, intellectual, and political elevation. It is in this direction that all the policy of Germany now tends, whereas that of England tends toward destroying everywhere the value of labour and land, and everywhere impairing the condition of man. The one system tends to the establishment everywhere of mills, furnaces, and towns, places of exchange, in accordance with the view of Dr. Smith, who tells us that "had human institutions never disturbed the natural course of things, the progressive wealth and increase of the towns would, in every political society, be consequential and in proportion to the improvement and cultivation of the territory and country." The other tends toward building up London and Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham, at the cost of enormous taxation imposed upon all the farmers and planters of the world; and its effects in remote parts of the United Kingdom itself, compared with those observed in Germany, are thus described: "If any one has travelled in the mountainous parts of Scotland and Wales, where the farmers are only under-lessees of great landlords, without security of tenure, and liable to be turned out of possession with half a year's notice, and where the peasants are only labourers, without any land of their own, and generally without even the use of a garden; if he has travelled in the mountainous parts of Switzerland, Saxony, and the hilly parts of the Prussian Rhine provinces, where most of the farmers and peasants possess, or can by economy and industry obtain, land of their own; and if he has paid any serious attention to the condition of the farms, peasants, and children of these several countries, he cannot fail to have observed the astonishing superiority of the condition of the peasants, children, and farms in the last-mentioned countries. "The miserable cultivation, the undrained and rush-covered valleys, the great number of sides of hills, terraces on the rocks, sides of streams, and other places capable of the richest cultivation, but wholly disused, even for game preserves; the vast tracts of the richest lands lying in moors, and bogs, and swamps, and used only for the breeding-places of game, and deer, and vermin, while the poor peasants are starving beside them; the miserable huts of cottages, with their one story, their two low rooms, their wretched and undrained floors, and their dilapidated roofs; and the crowds of miserable, half-clad, ragged, dirty, uncombed, and unwashed children, never blessed with any education, never trained in cleanliness or morality, and never taught any pure religion, are as astounding on the one hand as the happy condition of the peasants in the Protestant cantons of Switzerland, in the Tyrol, in Saxony, and in the mountainous parts of the Prussian Rhine provinces, is pleasing upon the other--where every plot of land that can bear any thing is brought into the most beautiful state of cultivation; where the valleys are richly and scientifically farmed; where the manures are collected with the greatest care; where the houses are generally large, roomy, well-built, and in excellent repair, and are improving every day; where the children are beautifully clean, comfortably dressed, and attending excellent schools; and where the condition of the people is one of hope, industry, and progress."--Vol. i. 140. The artisan has ever been the ally of the farmer in his contests with those who sought to tax him, let the form of taxation be what it might. The tendency of the British system is everywhere toward separating the two, and _using each to crush the other_. Hence it is that in all the countries subject to the system there is an abjectness of spirit not to be found in other parts of the world. The vices charged by the English journals on the people of Ireland are those of slavery--falsehood and dissimulation. The Hindoo of Bengal is a mean and crouching animal, compared with the free people of the upper country who have remained under their native princes. Throughout England there is a deference to rank, a servility, a toadyism, entirely inconsistent with progress in civilization.[177] The English labourer is, says Mr. Howitt [178]-- "So cut off from the idea of property, that he comes habitually to look upon it as a thing from which he is warned by the laws of the great proprietors, and becomes in consequence spiritless, purposeless." Compare with this the following description of a German bauer, from the same authority:-- "The German bauer, on the contrary, looks on the country as made for him and his fellow-men. He feels himself a man; he has a stake in the country as good as that of the bulk of his neighbours; no man can threaten him with ejection or the workhouse so long as he is active and economical. He walks, therefore, with a bold step; he looks you in the face with the air of a free man, but of a respectful one."--_Ibid_. The reader may now advantageously compare the progress of the last half century in Ireland and in Germany. Doing so, he will see that in the former there has been a steady tendency to the expulsion of the mechanic, the exhaustion of the soil, the consolidation of the land, and the resolution of the whole nation into a mass of wretched tenants at will, holding under the middleman agent of the great absentee landlord, with constant decline in the material, moral, and intellectual condition of all classes of society, and constantly increasing inability on the part of the nation to assert its rights. Seventy years since the Irish people extorted the admission of their right to legislate for themselves, whereas now the total disappearance of the nation from among the communities of the world is regarded as a thing to be prayed for, and a calculation is made that but twenty-four more years will be required, at the present rate, for its total extinction. In Germany, on the contrary, the mechanic is everywhere invited, and towns are everywhere growing. The soil is being everywhere enriched, and agricultural knowledge is being diffused throughout the nation; and land so rapidly acquires value that it is becoming more divided from day to day. The proprietor is everywhere taking the place of the serf, and the demand for labour becomes steady and man becomes valuable. The people are everywhere improving in their material and moral condition; and so rapid is the improvement of intellectual condition, that German literature now commands the attention of the whole civilized world. With each step in this direction, there is an increasing tendency toward union and peace, whereas as Ireland declines there is an increasing tendency toward discord, violence, and crime. Having studied these things, the reader may then call to mind that Ireland has thus declined, although, in the whole half century, her soil has never been pressed by the foot of an enemy in arms, whereas Germany has thus improved, although repeatedly overrun and plundered by hostile armies. CHAPTER XVII. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN RUSSIA. Among the nations of the world whose policy looks to carrying out the views of Adam Smith, in bringing the artisan as near as possible to the food and the wool, Russia stands distinguished. The information we have in reference to the movements of that country is limited; but all of it tends to prove that with the growth of population and wealth, and with the increased diversification of labour, land is acquiring value, and man is advancing rapidly toward freedom. "The industry of Russia," says a recent American journal-- "Has been built up, as alone the industry of a nation can be, under a system of protection, from time to time modified as experience has dictated; but never destroyed by specious abstractions or the dogmas of mere doctrinaires. Fifty years ago manufactures were unknown there, and the caravans trading to the interior and supplying the wants of distant tribes in Asia went laden with the products of British and other foreign workshops. When the present emperor mounted the throne, in 1825, the country could not produce the cloth required to uniform its own soldiers; further back, in 1800, the exportation of coloured cloth was prohibited under severe penalties; but through the influence of adequate protection, as early as 1834, Russian cloth was taken by the caravans to Kiachta; and at this day the markets of all Central Asia are supplied by the fabrics of Russian looms, which in Affghanistan and China are crowding British cloths entirely out of sale--notwithstanding the latter have the advantage in transportation--while in Tartary and Russia itself British woollens are now scarcely heard of. In 1812 there were in Russia 136 cloth factories; in 1824, 324; in 1812 there were 129 cotton factories; in 1824, 484. From 1812 to 1839 the whole number of manufacturing establishments in the empire more than trebled, and since then they have increased in a much greater ratio, though from the absence of official statistics we are not able to give the figures. Of the total amount of manufactured articles consumed in 1843, but one-sixth were imported. And along with this vast aggrandizement of manufacturing industry and commerce, there has been a steady increase of both imports and exports, as well as of revenue from customs. The increase in imports has consisted of articles of luxury and raw materials for manufacture. And, as if to leave nothing wanting in the demonstration, the increase of exports has constantly included more and more of the products of agriculture. Thus in this empire we see what we must always see under an adequate and judicious system of protection, that a proper tariff not only improves, refines, and diversifies the labour of a country, but enlarges its commerce, increases the prosperity of its agricultural population, renders the people better and better able to contribute to the support of the Government, and raises the nation to a position of independence and real equality among the powers of the globe. All this is indubitably proved by the example of Russia, for there protection has been steady and adequate, and the consequences are what we have described."--_N. York Tribune_. The reader may advantageously compare the following sketch, from the same source, of the present position of Russia, so recently a scene of barbarism, with that already laid before him, of her neighbour Turkey, whose policy commands to so great an extent the admiration of those economists who advocate the system which looks to converting the whole world outside of England into one vast farm, and all its people, men, women, and children, into field labourers, dependent on one great workshop in which to make all their exchanges:-- "Russia, we are told, is triumphant in the Great Exhibition. Her natural products excite interest and admiration for their variety and excellence; her works of art provoke astonishment for their richness and beauty. Her jewellers and gold-workers carry off the palm from even those of Paris. Her satins and brocades compete with the richest contributions of Lyons. She exhibits tables of malachite and caskets of ebony, whose curious richness indicates at once the lavish expenditure of a barbaric court, and the refinement and taste of civilization. Nor do we deem it of much account that her part of the exhibition is not exclusively the work of native artisans. Her satins are none the less genuine product of the country because the loveliest were woven by emigrants from the _Croix Rousse_ or the _Guillotiére_, seduced by high wages from their sunnier home in order to build up the industry of the Great Empire and train the grandsons of Mongol savages in the exquisite mysteries of French taste and dexterity. It matters not that the exhibition offers infinitely more than a fair illustration of the average capacity of Russian labour. It is none the less true that a people who half a century ago were without manufactures of any but the rudest kind, are now able by some means to furnish forth an unsurpassed display, though all the world is there to compete with them. "We are no lover of Russian power, and have no wish to exaggerate the degree of perfection to which Russian industry has attained. We do not doubt that any cotton factory in the environs of Moscow might be found imperfect when contrasted with one of Manchester or Lowell. We are confident that the artisans of a New-England village very far surpass those of a Russian one in most qualities of intelligence and manhood. Indeed, it is absurd to make the comparison; it is absurd to do what travellers insist on doing--that is, to judge every nation by the highest standard, and pronounce each a failure which does not exhibit the intellect of France, the solidity and power of England, or the enterprise, liberty, and order of the United States. All that should be asked is, whether a people has surpassed its own previous condition and is in the way of improvement and progress. And that, in respect of industry, at least, Russia is in that way, her show at the Exhibition may safely be taken as a brilliant and conclusive proof." Russia is powerful, and is becoming more so daily. Why is it so? It is because her people are daily more and more learning the advantages of diversification of labour and combination of exertion, and more and more improving in their physical and intellectual condition--the necessary preliminaries to an improvement of their political condition. Turkey is weak; and why is it so? Because among her people the habit of association is daily passing away as the few remaining manufactures disappear, and as the travelling pedler supersedes the resident shopkeeper. It is said, however, that Russian policy is unfavorable to commerce; but is not its real tendency that of producing a great internal commerce upon which alone a great foreign one can be built? That it does produce the effect of enabling her people to combine their exertions for their common benefit is most certain; and equally so that it tends to give her that direct intercourse with the world which is essential to the existence of freedom. The slave trades with the world through his master, who fixes the price of the labour he has to sell and the food and clothing he has to buy, and this is exactly the system that Great Britain desires to establish for the farmers of the world--she being the only buyer of raw products, and the only seller of manufactured ones. So long as Russia exports only food and hemp, she can trade with Brazil for sugar, and with Carolina for cotton, only through the medium of British ships, British ports, British merchants, and British looms, for she can need no raw cotton; but with the extension of manufactures she needs cotton, which she can draw directly from the planter, paying him in iron, by aid of which he may have machinery. In illustration of this, we have the fact that so recently as in 1846, out of a total consumption of cotton amounting to 310,656 cwts., no less than 122,082 cwts. had passed through British spindles; whereas in 1850, out of a total consumption more than one-half greater, and amounting to 487,612 cwts., only 64,505 cwts. had passed through the hands of the spinners of Manchester. The export of raw cotton to Russia has since largely increased, but the precise extent of increase cannot be ascertained, although some estimate may be formed from the growth of the consumption of one of the principal dyeing materials, indigo; the export of which from England to Russia is thus given in the London _Economist_:-- 1849. 1850. 1851. 1852. ----- ----- ----- ----- Chests, 3225....... 4105....... 4953....... 5175 We have here an increase in three years of almost sixty per cent., proving a steady increase in the power to obtain clothing and to maintain commerce internal and external, directly the reverse of what has been observed in Turkey, Ireland, India, and other countries in which the British system prevails; and the reason of this is that that system looks to destroying the power of association. It would have all the people of India engage themselves in raising cotton, and all those of Brazil and Cuba in raising sugar, while those of Germany and Russia should raise food and wool; and we know well that when all are farmers, or all planters, the power of association scarcely exists; the consequence of which is seen in the exceeding weakness of all the communities of the world in which the plough and the loom, the hammer and the harrow, are prevented from coming together. It is an unnatural one. Men everywhere seek to combine their exertions with those of their fellow-men; an object sought to be attained by the introduction of that diversification of employment advocated throughout his work by the author of _The Wealth of Nations_. How naturally the habit of association arises, and how beneficial are its effects, may be seen from a few extracts now offered to the reader, from an interesting article in a recent English journal. In Russia, says its author-- "There does not prevail that marked distinction between the modes of life of the dwellers in town and country which is found in other countries; and the general freedom of trade, which in other nations is still an object of exertion, has existed in Russia since a long by-gone period. A strong manufacturing and industrial tendency prevails in a large portion of Russia, which, based upon the communal system, has led to the formation of what we may term 'national association factories.'" In corroboration of this view of the general freedom of internal trade, we are told that, widely different from the system of western Europe, "There exists no such thing as a trade guild, or company, nor any restraint of a similar nature. Any member of a commune can at pleasure abandon the occupation he may be engaged in, and take up another; all that he has to do in effecting the change is to quit the commune in which his old trade is carried on, and repair to another, where his new one is followed." The tendency of manufacturing industry is "For the most part entirely communal; the inhabitants of one village, for example, are all shoemakers, in another smiths, in a third tanners only, and so on. A natural division of labor thus prevails exactly as in a factory. The members of the commune mutually assist one another with capital or labor; purchases are usually made in common, and sales also invariably, but they always send their manufactures in a general mass to the towns and market-places, where they have a common warehouse for their disposal." In common with all countries that are as yet unable fully to carry out the idea of Adam Smith, of compressing a large quantity of food and wool into a piece of cloth, and thus fitting it for cheap transportation to distant markets, and which are, therefore, largely dependent on those distant markets for the sale of raw produce, the cultivation of the soil in Russia is not-- "In general, very remunerative, and also can only be engaged in for a few months in the year, which is, perhaps, the reason why the peasant in Russia evinces so great an inclination for manufactures and other branches of industry, the character of which generally depends on the nature of raw products found in the districts where they are followed." Without diversification of employment much labour would be wasted, and the people would find themselves unable to purchase clothing or machinery of cultivation. Throughout the empire the labourer appears to follow in the direction indicated by nature, working up the materials on the land on which they are produced, and thus economizing transportation. Thus-- "In the government of Yaroslaf the whole inhabitants of one place are potters. Upward of two thousand inhabitants in another place are rope-makers and harness-makers. The population of the district of Uglitich in 1835 sent three millions of yards of linen cloth to the markets of Rybeeck and Moscow. The peasants on one estate are all candle-makers, on a second they are all manufacturers of felt hats, and on a third they are solely occupied in smiths' work, chiefly the making of axes. In the district of Pashechoe there are about seventy tanneries, which give occupation to a large number of families; they have no paid workmen, but perform all the operations among themselves, preparing leather to the value of about twenty-five thousand roubles a year, and which is disposed of on their account in Rybeeck. In the districts where the forest-trees mostly consist of lindens, the inhabitants are principally engaged in the manufacture of matting, which, according to its greater or less degree of fineness, is employed either for sacking or sail cloth, or merely as packing mats. The linden-tree grows only on moist soils, rich in black _humus_, or vegetable mould; but will not grow at all in sandy soils, which renders it comparatively scarce in some parts of Russia, while in others it grows abundantly. The mats are prepared from the inner bark, and as the linden is ready for stripping at only fifteen years of age, and indeed is best at that age, these trees form a rich source of profit for those who dwell in the districts where they grow." We have here a system of combined exertion that tends greatly to account for the rapid progress of Russia in population, wealth, and power. The men who thus associate for local purposes acquire information, and with it the desire for more; and thus we find them passing freely, as interest may direct them, from one part of the empire to another--a state of things very different from that produced in England by the law of settlement, under which men have everywhere been forbidden to change their locality, and everywhere been liable to be seized and sent back to their original parishes, lest they might at some time or other become chargeable upon the new one in which they had desired to find employment, for which they had sought in vain at home. "The Russian" says our author-- "Has a great disposition for wandering about beyond his native place, but not for travelling abroad. The love of home seems to be merged, to a great extent, in love of country. A Russian feels himself at home everywhere within Russia; and, in a political sense, this rambling disposition of the people, and the close intercourse between the inhabitants of the various provinces to which it leads, contributes to knit a closer bond of union between the people, and to arouse and maintain a national policy and a patriotic love of country. Although he may quit his native place, the Russian never wholly severs the connection with it; and, as we have before mentioned, being fitted by natural talent to turn his hand to any species of work, he in general never limits himself in his wanderings to any particular occupation, but tries at several; but chooses whatever may seem to him the most advantageous. When they pursue any definite extensive trade, such as that of a carpenter, mason, or the like, in large towns, they associate together, and form a sort of trades' association, and the cleverest assume the position of a sort of contractor for the labour required. Thus, if a nobleman should want to build a house, or even a palace, in St. Petersburgh, he applies to such a contractor, (_prodratshnik_,) lays before him the elevation and plans, and makes a contract with him to do the work required for a specified sum. The contractor then makes an agreement with his comrades respecting the assistance they are to give, and the share they are to receive of the profit; after which he usually sets off to his native place, either alone or with some of his comrades, to obtain the requisite capital to carry on the work with. The inhabitants, who also have their share of the gains, readily make up the necessary sum, _and every thing is done in trust and confidence_; it is, indeed, very rare to hear of frauds in these matters. The carpenters (_plotniki_) form a peculiar class of the workmen we have described. As most of the houses in Russia, and especially in the country parts, are built of wood, the number and importance of the carpenters, as a class, are very great in comparison with other countries. Almost every peasant, whatever other trade he may follow, is also something of a carpenter, and knows how to shape and put together the timbers for a dwelling. The _plotniki_ in the villages are never any thing more than these general carpenters, and never acquire any regular knowledge of their business. The real Russian _plotniki_ seldom carries any other tools with him than an axe and a chisel, and with these he wanders through all parts of the empire, seeking, and everywhere finding, work." The picture here presented is certainly widely different from that presented by Great Britain and Ireland. A Russian appears to be at home everywhere in Russia. He wanders where he will, everywhere seeking and finding work; whereas an Irishman appears hardly to be at home anywhere within the limits of the United Kingdom. In England, and still more in Scotland, he is not acknowledged as a fellow-citizen. He is _only an Irishman_--one of those half-savage Celts intended by nature to supply the demand of England for cheap labour; that is, for that labour which is to be rewarded by the scantiest supplies of food and clothing. The difference in the moral effect of the two systems is thus very great. The one tends to bring about that combination of exertion which everywhere produces a kindly habit of feeling, whereas the other tends everywhere to the production of dissatisfaction and gloom; and it is so because that under it there is necessarily a constant increase of the feeling that every man is to live by the taxation of his neighbour, buying cheaply what that neighbour has to sell, and selling dearly what that neighbour has to buy. The existence of this state of things is obvious to all familiar with the current literature of England, which abounds in exhibitions of the tendency of the system to render man a tyrant to his wife, his daughter, his horse, and even his dog. A recent English traveller in Russia presents a different state of feeling as there existing. "The Russian coachman," he says-- "Seldom uses his whip, and generally only knocks with it upon the footboard of the sledge, by way of a gentle admonition to his steed, with whom, meanwhile, he keeps up a running colloquy, seldom giving him harder words than _'My brother--my friend--my little pigeon--my sweetheart_.' 'Come, my pretty pigeon, make use of your legs,' he will say. 'What, now! art blind? Come, be brisk! Take care of that stone, there. Don't see it?--There, that's right! Bravo! hop, hop, hop! Steady boy, steady! What art turning thy head for? Look out boldly before thee!--Hurra! Yukh! Yukh!' "I could not," he continues, "help contrasting this with the offensive language we constantly hear in England from carters and boys employed in driving horses. You are continually shocked by the oaths used. They seem to think the horses will not go unless they swear at them; and boys consider it manly to imitate this example, and learn to swear too, and break God's commandments by taking his holy name in vain. And this while making use of a fine, noble animal he has given for our service and not for abuse. There is much unnecessary cruelty in the treatment of these dumb creatures, for they are often beaten when doing their best, or from not understanding what their masters want them to do." Of the truth of this, as regards England, the journals of that country often furnish most revolting evidence; but the mere fact that there exists there a society for preventing cruelty to animals, would seem to show that its services had been much needed. The manner in which the system of diversified labour is gradually extending personal freedom among the people of Russia, and preparing them eventually for the enjoyment of the highest degree of political freedom, is shown in the following passage. "The landholders," says the author before referred to-- "Having serfs, gave them permission to engage in manufactures, and to seek for work for themselves where they liked, on the mere condition of paying their lord a personal tax, (_obrok_). Each person is rated according to his personal capabilities, talents, and capacities, at a certain capital; and according to what he estimates himself capable of gaining, he is taxed at a fixed sum as interest of that capital. Actors and singers are generally serfs, and they are obliged to pay _obrok_, for the exercise of their art, as much as the lowest handicraftsman. In recent times, the manufacturing system of Western Europe has been introduced into Russia, and the natives have been encouraged to establish all sorts of manufactures on these models; and it remains to be seen whether the new system will have the anticipated effect of contributing to the formation of a middle class, which hitherto has been the chief want in Russia as a political state." That such must be the effect cannot be doubted. The middle class has everywhere grown with the growth of towns and other places of local exchange, and men have become free precisely as they have been able to unite together for the increase of the productiveness of their labour. In every part of the movement which thus tends to the emancipation of the serf, the government is seen to be actively co-operating, and it is scarcely possible to read an account of what is there being done without a feeling of great respect for the emperor, "so often," says a recent writer, "denounced as a deadly foe to freedom--the true father of his country, earnestly striving to develop and mature the rights of his subjects."[179] For male serfs, says the same author, at all times until recently, military service was the only avenue to freedom. It required, however, twenty years' service, and by the close of that time the soldier became so accustomed to that mode of life that he rarely left it. A few years since, however, the term was shortened to eight years, and thousands of men are now annually restored to civil life, free men, who but a few years previously had been slaves, liable to be bought and sold with the land. Formerly the lord had the same unlimited power of disposing of his serfs that is now possessed by the people of our Southern States. The serf was a mere chattel, an article of traffic and merchandise; and husbands and wives, parents and children, were constantly liable to be separated from each other. By an ukase of 1827, however, they were declared an integral and inseparable portion of the soil. "The immediate consequence of this decree," says Mr. Jerrmann,[180] "Was the cessation, at least in its most repulsive form, of the degrading traffic in human flesh, by sale, barter, or gift. Thenceforward no serf could be transferred to another owner, except by the sale of the land to which he belonged. To secure to itself the refusal of the land and the human beings appertaining to it, and at the same time to avert from the landholder the ruin consequent on dealings with usurers, the government established an imperial loan-bank, which made advances on mortgage of lands to the extent of two-thirds of their value. The borrowers had to pay back each year three per cent of the loan, besides three per cent. interest. If they failed to do this, the Crown returned them the instalments already paid, gave them the remaining third of the value of the property, and took possession of the land and its population. This was the first stage of freedom for the serfs. They became Crown peasants, held their dwellings and bit of land as an hereditary fief from the Crown, and paid annually for the same a sum total of five rubles, (about four shillings for each male person;) a rent for which, assuredly, in the whole of Germany, the very poorest farm is not to be had; to say nothing of the consideration that in case of bad harvests, destruction by hail, disease, &c., the Crown is bound to supply the strict necessities of its peasant, and to find them in daily bread, in the indispensable stock of cattle and seed-corn, to repair their habitations, and so forth. "By this arrangement, and in a short time, a considerable portion of the lands of the Russian nobility became the property of the state, and with it a large number of serfs became Crown peasants. This was the first and most important step toward opening the road to freedom to that majority of the Russian population which consists of slaves." We have here the stage of preparation for that division of the land which has, in all countries of the world, attended the growth of wealth and population, and which is essential to further growth not only in wealth but in freedom. Consolidation of the land has everywhere been the accompaniment of slavery, and so must it always be. At the next step, we find the emperor bestowing upon the serf, as preparatory to entire freedom, certain civil rights. An ukase "Permitted them to enter into contracts. Thereby was accorded to them not only the right of possessing property, but the infinitely higher blessing of a legal recognition of their moral worth as men. Hitherto the serf was recognised by the state only as a sort of beast in human form. He could hold no property, give no legal evidence, take no oath. No matter how eloquent his speech, he was dumb before the law. He might have treasures in his dwelling, the law knew him only as a pauper. His word and honor were valueless compared to those of the vilest freeman. In short, morally he could not be said to exist. The Emperor Nicholas gave to the serfs, that vast majority of his subjects, the first sensation of moral worth, the first throb of self-respect, the first perception of the rights and dignity and duty of man! What professed friend of the people can boast to have done more, or yet so much, for so many millions of men?"--_Ibid_, p. 24. "Having given the serfs power to hold property, the emperor now," says our author, "taught them to prize the said property above all in the interest of their freedom." The serf "Could, not buy his own freedom, but he became free by the purchase of the patch of soil to which he was linked. To such purchase the right of contract cleared his road. The lazy Russian, who worked with an ill-will toward his master, doing as little as he could for the latter's profit, toiled day and night for his own advantage. Idleness was replaced by the diligent improvement of his farm, brutal drunkenness by frugality and sobriety; the earth, previously neglected, requited the unwonted care with its richest treasures. By the magic of industry, wretched hovels were transformed into comfortable dwellings, wildernesses into blooming fields, desolate steppes and deep morasses into productive land; whole communities, lately sunk in poverty, exhibited unmistakable signs of competency and well-doing. The serfs, now allowed to enter into contracts, lent the lord of the soil the money of which he often stood in need, on the same conditions as the Crown, receiving in security the land they occupied, their own bodies, and the bodies of their wives and children. The nobleman preferred the serfs' loan to the government's loan, because, when pay-day came for the annual interest and instalment, the Crown, if he was not prepared to pay, took possession of his estate, having funds wherewith to pay him the residue of its value. The parish of serfs, which had lent money to its owner, lacked these funds. Pay-day came, the debtor did not pay, but neither could the serfs produce the one-third of the value of the land which they must disburse to him in order to be free. Thus they lost their capital and did not gain their liberty. But Nicholas lived! the father of his subjects. "Between the anxious debtor and the still more anxious creditor now interposed an imperial ukase, which in such cases opened to the parishes of serfs the imperial treasury. Mark this; for it is worthy, to be noted; the Russian imperial treasury was opened to the serfs, that they might purchase their freedom! "The Government might simply have released the creditors from their embarrassment by paying the debtor the one-third still due to him, and then land and tenants belonged to the state;--one parish the more of _Crown peasants_. Nicholas did not adopt that course. He lent the serfs the money they needed to buy themselves from their master, and for this loan (a third only of the value) they mortgaged themselves and their lands to the Crown, paid annually three per cent. interest and three per cent. of the capital, and would thus in about thirty years be free, and proprietors of their land! That they would be able to pay off this third was evident, since, to obtain its amount they had still the same resources which enabled them to save up the two-thirds already paid. Supposing, however, the very worst,--that through inevitable misfortunes, such as pestilence, disease of cattle, &c., they were prevented satisfying the rightful claims of the Crown, in that case the Crown paid them back the two-thirds value which they had previously disbursed to their former owner, and they became a parish of Crown peasants, whose lot, compared to their earlier one, was still enviable. But not once in a hundred times do such cases occur, while, by the above plan, whole parishes gradually acquire their freedom, not by a sudden and violent change, which could not fail to have some evil consequences, but in course of time, after a probation of labour and frugality, and after thus attaining to the knowledge that without these two great factors of true freedom, no real liberty can possibly be durable."--_Ibid_. The free peasants as yet constitute small class, but they live "As free and happy men, upon their own land; are active, frugal, and, without exception, well off. This they must be, for considerable means are necessary for the purchase of their freedom; and, once free, and in possession of a farm of their own, their energy and industry, manifested even in a state of slavery, are redoubled by the enjoyment of personal liberty, and their earnings naturally increase in a like measure. "The second class, the crown peasants, are far better off (setting aside, of course, the consciousness of freedom) than the peasants of Germany. They must furnish their quota of recruits, but that is their only material burden. Besides that, they annually pay to the Crown a sum of five rubles (about four shillings) for each male person of the household. Supposing the family to include eight working men, which is no small number for a farm, the yearly tribute paid amounts to thirty-two shillings. And what a farm that must be which employs eight men all the year round! In what country of civilized Europe has the peasant so light a burden to bear? How much heavier those which press upon the English farmer, the French, the German, and above all the Austrian, who often gives up three-fourths of his harvest in taxes. If the Crown peasant be so fortunate as to be settled in the neighbourhood of a large town, his prosperity soon exceeds that even of the Altenburg husbandmen, said to be the richest in all Germany. On the other hand, he can never purchase his freedom; hitherto, at least, no law of the Crown has granted him this privilege."--_Ibid_, 156. That this, however, is the tendency of every movement, must be admitted by all who have studied the facts already given, and who read the following account of the commencement of local self-government:-- "But what would our ardent anti-Russians say, if I took them into the interior of the empire, gave them an insight into the organization of parishes, and showed them, to their infinite astonishment, what they never yet dreamed of, that the whole of that organization is based upon republican principles, that there every thing has its origin in election by the people, and that that was already the case at a period when the great mass of German democrats did not so much as know the meaning of popular franchise. Certainly the Russian serfs do not know at the present day what it means; but without knowing the name of the thing, without having ever heard a word of Lafayette's ill-omened '_trône monarchique, environné d'institutions républicaines_,' they choose their own elders, their administrators, their dispensers of justice and finance, and never dream that they, _slaves_, enjoy and benefit by privileges by which some of the most civilized nations have proved themselves incapable of profiting. "Space does not here permit a more extensive sketch of what the Emperor Nicholas has done, and still is daily doing, for the true freedom of his subjects; but what I have here brought forward must surely suffice to place him, in the eyes of every unprejudiced person, in the light of a real lover of his people. That his care has created a paradise that no highly criminal abuse of power, no shameful neglect prevails in the departments of justice and police--it is hoped no reflecting reader will infer from this exposition of facts. But the still-existing abuses alter nothing in my view of the emperor's character, of his assiduous efforts to raise his nation out of the deep slough in which it still is partly sunk, of his efficacious endeavours to elevate his people to a knowledge and use of their rights as men--alter nothing in my profound persuasion that Czar Nicholas I. is the true father of his country."--_Ibid_, 27. We are told that the policy, of Russia is adverse to the progress of civilization, while that of England is favourable to it, and that we should aid the latter in opposing the former. How is this to be proved? Shall we look to Ireland for the proof? If we do, we shall meet there nothing but famine, pestilence, and depopulation. Or to Scotland, where men, whose ancestors had occupied the same spot for centuries are being hunted down that they may be transported to the shores of the St. Lawrence, there to perish, as they so recently have done, of cold and of hunger? Or to India, whose whole class of small proprietors and manufacturers has disappeared under the blighting influence of her system, and whose commerce diminishes, now from year to year? Or to Portugal, the weakest and most wretched of the communities of Europe? Or to China, poisoned with _smuggled_ opium, that costs the nation annually little less than forty millions of dollars, without which the Indian government could not be maintained? Look where we may, we see a growing tendency toward slavery wherever the British system is permitted to obtain; whereas freedom grows in the ratio in which that system is repudiated. That such must necessarily be the case will be seen by every reader who will for a moment reflect on the difference between the effect of the Russian system on the condition of Russian women, and that of the British system on the condition of those of India. In the former there is everywhere arising a demand for women to be employed in the lighter labour of conversion, and thus do they tend from day to day to become more self-supporting, and less dependent on the will of husbands, brothers, or sons. In the other the demand for their labour has passed away, and their condition declines, and so it must continue to do while Manchester shall be determined upon closing the domestic demand for cotton and driving the whole population to the production of sugar, rice, and cotton, for export to England. The system of Russia is attractive of population, and French, German, and American mechanics of every description find demand for their services. That of England is repulsive, as is seen by the _forced_ export of men from England, Scotland, Ireland, and India, now followed by whole cargoes of women [181] sent out by aid of public contributions, presenting a spectacle almost as humiliating to the pride of the sex as can be found in the slave bazaar of Constantinople. CHAPTER XVIII. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN DENMARK. Compared with Ireland, India, or Turkey, DENMARK is a very poor country. She has, says one of the most enlightened of modern British travellers-- "No metals or minerals, no fire power, no water power, no products or capabilities for becoming a manufacturing country supplying foreign consumers. She has no harbours on the North Sea. Her navigation is naturally confined to the Baltic. Her commerce is naturally confined to the home consumption of the necessaries and luxuries of civilized life, which the export of her corn and other agricultural products enables her to import and consume. She stands alone in her corner of the world, exchanging her loaf of bread, which she can spare, for articles she cannot provide for herself, but still providing for herself every thing she can by her own industry."[182] That industry is protected by heavy import duties, and those duties are avowedly imposed with the view of enabling the farmer everywhere to have the artisan at his side; thus bringing together the producers and the consumers of the earth. "The greater part of their clothing materials," says Mr. Laing-- "Linen, mixed linen and cotton, and woollen cloth, is home-made; and the materials to be worked up, the cotton yarns, dye stuffs, and utensils, are what they require from the shops. The flax and wool are grown and manufactured on the peasant's farm; the spinning and weaving done in the house; the bleaching, dyeing, fulling done at home or in the village." * * * "Bunches of ribbons, silver clasps, gold ear-rings, and other ornaments of some value, are profusely used in many of the female dresses, although the main material is home-made woollen and linen. Some of these female peasant costumes are very becoming when exhibited in silk, fine cloth, and lace, as they are worn by handsome country girls, daughters of rich peasant proprietors in the islands, who sometimes visit Copenhagen. They have often the air and appearance of ladies, and in fact are so in education, in their easy or even wealthy circumstances, and an inherited superiority over others of the same class." * * * "In a large country-church at Gettorf, my own coat and the minister's were, as far as I could observe, the only two in the congregation not of home-made cloth; and in Copenhagen the working and every-day clothes of respectable tradesmen and people of the middle class, and of all the artisans and the lower labouring classes, are, if not home-made and sent to them by their friends, at least country made; that is, not factory made, but spun, woven, and sold in the web, by peasants, who have more than they want for their family use, to small shopkeepers. This is particularly the case with linen. Flax is a crop on every farm; and the skutching, hackling, spinning, weaving, and bleaching are carried on in every country family."--Pp. 381, 382, 383. The manufacture of this clothing finds employment for almost the whole female population of the country and for a large proportion of the male population during the winter months. Under a different system, the money price of this clothing would be less than it now is--as low, perhaps, as it has been in Ireland--but what would be its labour price? Cloth is cheap in that country, but man is so much cheaper that he not only goes in rags, but perishes of starvation, because compelled to exhaust his land and waste his labour. "Where," asks very justly Mr. Laing-- "Would be the gain to the Danish nation, if the small proportion of its numbers who do not live by husbandry got their shirts and jackets and all other clothing one-half cheaper, and the great majority, who now find winter employment in manufacturing their own clothing materials, for the time and labour which are of no value to them at that season, and can be turned to no account, were thrown idle by the competition of the superior and cheaper products of machinery and the factory?"--P. 385. None! The only benefit derived by man from improvement in the machinery of conversion is, that he is thereby enabled to give more time, labour, and thought to the improvement of the earth, the great machine of production; and in that there _can_ be no improvement under a system that looks to the exportation of raw products, the sending away of the soil, and the return of no manure to the land. The whole Danish system tends to the local employment of both labour and capital, and therefore to the growth of wealth and the division of the land, and the improvement of the modes of cultivation. "With a large and increasing proportion-- "Of the small farms belonging to peasant proprietors, working themselves with hired labourers, and of a size to keep from five to thirty or forty cows summer and winter, there are many large farms of a size to keep from two hundred to three hundred, and even four hundred cows, summer and winter, and let to verpachters, or large tenant farmers, paying money rents. This class of verpachters are farmers of great capital and skill, very intelligent and enterprising, well acquainted with all modern improvements in husbandry, using guano, tile-draining, pipe-draining, and likely to be very formidable rivals in the English markets to the old-fashioned, use-and-want English farmers, and even to most of our improving large farmers in Scotland."--_Laing_, 52. The system of this country has attracted instead of repelling population, and with its growth there has been a constant and rapid advance toward freedom. The class of verpachters above described "Were originally strangers from Mecklenburg, Brunswick, and Hanover, bred to the complicated arrangements and business of a great dairy farm, and they are the best educated, most skilful, and most successful farmers in the North of Europe. Many of them have purchased large estates. The extensive farms they occupy, generally on leases of nine years, are the domains and estates of the nobles, which, before 1784, were cultivated by the serfs, who were, before that period, _adscripti glebæ_, and who were bound to work every day, without wages, on the main farm of the feudal lord, and had cottages and land, on the outskirts of the estate, to work upon for their own living when they were not wanted on the farm of the baron. Their feudal lord could imprison them, flog them, reclaim them if they had deserted from his land, and had complete feudal jurisdiction over them in his baronial court."--P. 53. It is, however, not only in land, but in various other modes, that the little owner of capital is enabled to employ it with advantage. "The first thing a Dane does with his savings," says Mr. Brown,[183] British consul at Copenhagen-- "Is to purchase a clock; then a horse and cow, which he hires out, and which pay good interest. Then his ambition is to become a petty proprietor; and _this class of persons is better off than any in Denmark_. Indeed, I know no people in any country who have more easily within their reach all that is really necessary for life than this class, which is very large in comparison with that of labourers." To the power advantageously to employ the small accumulations of the labourer, it is due that the proportion of small proprietors has become so wonderfully large. "The largest proportion of the country, and of the best land of it," says Mr. Laing,[184] is in their hands-- "With farms of a size to keep ten or fifteen cows, and which they cultivate by hired labour, along with the labour of the family. These small proprietors, called huffner, probably from _hoff_, a farm-steading and court-yard, correspond to the yeomen, small freeholders, and statesmen, of the North of England, and many of them are wealthy. Of this class of estates, it is reckoned there are about 125,150 in the two duchies: some of the huffners appear to be copyholders, not freeholders; that is, they hold their land by hereditary right, and may sell or dispose of it; but their land is subject to certain fixed payments of money, labour, cartages, ploughing yearly to the lord of the manor of which they hold it, or to fixed fines for non-payment. A class of smaller land-holders are called Innsters, and are properly cottars with a house, a yard, and land for a cow or two, and pay a rent in money and in labour, and receive wages, at a reduced rate, for their work all the year round. They are equivalent to our class of married farm-servants, but with the difference that they cannot be turned off at the will or convenience of the verpachter, or large farmer, but hold of the proprietor; and all the conditions under which they hold--sometimes for life, sometimes for a term of years--are as fixed and supported by law, as those between the proprietor and the verpachter. Of this class there are about 67,710, and of house-cottars without land; 17,480, and 36,283 day-labourers in husbandry. The land is well divided among a total population of only 662,500 souls."--P. 43. Even the poorest of these labouring householders has a garden, some land, and a cow;[185] and everywhere the eye and hand of the little proprietor may be seen busily employed, while the larger farmers, says our author-- "Attend our English cattle-shows and agricultural meetings, are educated men, acquainted with every agricultural improvement, have agricultural meetings and cattle-shows of their own, and publish the transactions and essays of the members. They use guano, and all the animal or chemical manures, have introduced tile-draining, machinery for making pipes and tiles, and are no strangers to irrigation on their old grass meadows."--P. 127. As a natural consequence, the people are well clothed. "The proportion," says Mr. Laing-- "Of well-dressed people in the streets is quite as great as in our large towns; few are so shabby in clothes as the unemployed or half-employed workmen and labourers in Edinburgh; and a proletarian class, half-naked and in rags, is not to be seen. The supply of clothing material for the middle and lower classes seems as great, whether we look at the people themselves or at the second or third rate class of shops with goods for their use."--P. 379. In regard to house accommodation, he says:-- "The country people of Denmark and the duchies are well lodged. The material is brick. The roofing is of thatch in the country, and of tiles in the towns. Slate is unknown. The dwelling apartments are always floored with wood. I have described in a former note the great hall in which all the cattle and crops and wagons are housed, and into which the dwelling apartments open. The accommodations outside of the meanest cottage, the yard, garden, and offices, approach more to the dwellings of the English than of the Scotch people of the same class."--P. 420. Every parish has its established schoolmaster, as well as "Its established minister; but it appears to me that the class of parochial schoolmasters here stands in a much higher position than, in Scotland. They are better paid, their houses, glebes, and stipends are better, relatively to the ordinary houses and incomes of the middle class in country places, and they are men of much higher education than their Scotch brethren." * * * "It is quite free to any one who pleases to open a school; and to parents to send their children to school or not, as they please. If the young people are sufficiently instructed to receive confirmation from the clergyman, or to stand an examination for admission as students at the university, where or how they acquired their instruction is not asked. Government has provided schools, and highly qualified and well-paid teachers, but invests them with no monopoly of teaching, no powers as a corporate body, and keeps them distinct from and unconnected with the professional body in the university."--Pp. 170, 336. "The most striking feature in the character of these small town populations," says our author-- "And that which the traveller least expects to find in countries so secluded, so removed from intercourse with other countries, by situation and want of exchangeable products, as Sleswick, Jutland, and the Danish islands, is the great diffusion of education, literature, and literary tastes. In towns, for instance, of 6000 inhabitants, in England, we seldom find such establishments as the 6000 inhabitants of Aalborg, the most northerly town in Jutland, possess. They enjoy, on the banks of the Lymfiord, a classical school for the branches of learning required from students entering the university; an educational institution, and six burger schools for the ordinary branches of education, and in which the Lancastrian method of mutual instruction is in use; a library of 12,000 volumes, belonging to the province of Aalborg, is open to the public; a circulating library of 2000 volumes; several private collections and museums, to which access is readily given; a dramatic association, acting every other Sunday; and two club-houses for balls and concerts. A printing office and a newspaper, published weekly or oftener, are, in such towns, establishments of course. Wyborg, the most ancient town in Jutland, the capital in the time of the pagan kings, and once a great city, with twelve parish churches and six monasteries, but now containing no remains of its former grandeur, and only about 3000 inhabitants, has its newspaper three times a week, its classical school, its burger school, its public library, circulating library, and its dramatic association acting six or eight plays in the course of the winter. These, being county towns, the seats of district courts and business, have, no doubt, more of such establishments than the populations of the towns themselves could support; but this indicates a wide diffusion of education and intellectual tastes in the surrounding country. Randers, on the Guden River, the only river of any length of course which runs into the Baltic or Cattegat from the peninsular land, and the only one in which salmon are caught, is not a provincial capital, and is only about twenty-five English miles from the capital Wyborg; but it has, for its 6000 inhabitants, a classical school, several burger schools; one of which has above 300 children taught by the mutual-instruction method, a book society, a musical society, a circulating library, a printing press, a newspaper published three times a week, a club-house, and a dramatic society. Aarhuus, with, about the same population as Randers, and about the same distance from it as Randers from Wyborg, has a high school, two burger schools, and a ragged or poor school, a provincial library of 3000 or 4000 volumes, a school library of about the same extent, a library belonging to a club, a collection of minerals and shells belonging to the high schools, a printing press, (from which a newspaper and a literary periodical are issued,) book and music shops, a club-house, concert and ball-room, and a dramatic society. Holstebro, a little inland town of about 800 inhabitants, about thirty-five English miles west from Wyborg, has its burger school on the mutual-instruction system, its reading society, and its agricultural society. In every little town in this country, the traveller finds educational institutions and indications of intellectual taste for reading, music, theatrical representations, which, he cannot but admit, surpass what he finds at home in England, in similar towns and among the same classes."--P.316. We have here abundant evidence of the beneficial effect of local action, as compared with centralisation. Instead of having great establishments in Copenhagen, and no local schools, or newspapers, there is everywhere provision for education, and evidence that the people avail themselves of it. Their tastes are cultivated, and becoming more so from day to day; and thus do they present a striking contrast with the picture furnished by the opposite shore of the German Ocean, and for the reason that there the system is based on the idea of cheapening labour at home and underworking the labourer abroad. The windows of the poorest houses, says Mr. Laing-- "Rarely want a bit of ornamental drapery, and are always decked with flowers and plants in flower-pots. The people have a passion for flowers. The peasant girl and village beau are adorned with bouquets of the finest of ordinary flowers; and in the town you see people buying, flowers who with us, in the same station, would think it extravagance. The soil and climate favour this taste. In no part of Europe are the ordinary garden-flowers produced in such abundance and luxuriance as in Holstein and Sleswick."--P. 50. The people have everywhere "leisure to be happy, amused, and educated,"[186] and, as a consequence, the sale of books is large. The number of circulating libraries is no less than six hundred,[187] and their demands give "More impulse to literary activity than appears in Edinburgh, where literature is rather passive than active, and what is produced worth publishing is generally sent to the London market. This is the reason why a greater number of publications appear in the course of the year in Copenhagen than in Edinburgh." * * * "The transmission of books and other small parcels by post, which we think a great improvement, as it unquestionably is, and peculiar to our English post-office arrangement, is of old standing in Denmark, and is of great advantage for the diffusion of knowledge, and of great convenience to the people."--Pp. 373, 374. The material and intellectual condition of this people is declared by Mr. Laing--and he is an experienced and most observant traveller--to be higher than that of any other in Europe;[188] while Mr. Kay, also very high authority, places the people of England among the most ignorant and helpless of those of Europe. The Danes consume more food for the mind "Than the Scotch; have more daily and weekly newspapers, and other periodical works, in their metropolis and in their country towns, and publish more translated and original works; have more public libraries, larger libraries, and libraries more easily accessible to persons of all classes, not only in Copenhagen, but in all provincial and country towns; have more small circulating libraries, book-clubs, musical associations, theatres and theatrical associations, and original dramatic compositions; more museums, galleries, collections of statues, paintings, antiquities, and objects gratifying to the tastes of a refined and intellectual people, and open equally to all classes, than the people of Scotland can produce in the length and breadth of the land."--P. 390. High moral condition is a necessary consequence of an elevated material and intellectual one; and therefore it is that we find the Dane distinguished for kindness, urbanity, and regard for others,[189] and this is found in all portions of society. In visiting the Museum of Northern Antiquities, which is open to the public, free of charge, on certain days-- "The visitors are not left to gape in ignorance at what they see. Professors of the highest attainments in antiquarian science--Professor Thomsen, M. Worsaae, and others--men who, in fact, have created a science out of an undigested mass of relics, curiosities, and specimens, of the arts in the early ages--go round with groups of the visitors, and explain equally to all, high and low, with the greatest zeal, intelligence, and affability, the uses of the articles exhibited, the state of the arts in the ages in which they were used, the gradual progress of mankind from shells, stones, and bones to bronze and iron, as the materials for tools, ornaments, and weapons, and the conclusions made, and the grounds and reasons for making them, in their antiquarian researches. They deliver, in fact, an extempore lecture, intelligible to the peasant and instructive to the philosopher."--P. 399. In place of the wide gulf that divides the two great portions of English society, we find here great equality of social intercourse, and "It seems not to be condescension merely on one side, and grateful respect for being noticed at all on the other, but a feeling of independence and mutual respect between individuals of the most different stations and classes. This may be accounted for from wealth not being so all-important as in our social state; its influence in society is less where the majority are merely occupied in living agreeably on what they have, without motive or desire to have more."--P. 423. How strikingly does the following contrast with the description of London, and its hundred thousand people without a place to lay their heads!-- "The streets are but poorly lighted, gas is not yet introduced, and the police is an invisible force; yet one may walk at all hours through this town without seeing a disorderly person, a man in liquor unable to take care of himself, or a female street-walker. Every one appears to have a home and bed of some kind, and the houseless are unknown as a class."--P. 394. Why this is so is, that, because of the growing improvement in the condition of the people, the land is daily increasing in value, and is becoming divided, and men are attracted from the city to the land and the smaller towns--directly the reverse of what is observed in England. "There is," says Mr. Laing-- "No such influx, as in our large towns, of operatives in every trade, who, coming from the country to better their condition, are by far too numerous for the demand, must take work at lower and lower wages to keep themselves from starving, and who reduce their fellow-craftsmen and themselves to equal misery. Employment is more fixed and stationary for the employed and the employers. There is no foreign trade or home consumption to occasion great and sudden activity and expansion in manufactures, and equally great and sudden stagnation and collapse."--P. 394. "Drunkenness has almost," we are told, "disappeared from the Danish character," and it is "The education of the tastes for more refined amusements than the counter of the gin-palace or the back parlour of the whisky-shop afford, that has superseded the craving for the excitement of spirituous liquor. The tea-gardens, concert-rooms, ball-rooms, theatres, skittle-grounds, all frequented indiscriminately by the highest and the lowest classes, have been the schools of useful knowledge that have imparted to the lowest class something of the manners and habits of the highest, and have eradicated drunkenness and brutality, in ordinary intercourse, from the character of the labouring people."--P. 396. Denmark is, says this high authority, "a living evidence of the falsity of the theory that population increases more rapidly than subsistence where the land of the country is held by small working proprietors;"[190] and she is a living evidence, too, of the falsity of the theory that men commence with the cultivation of the most productive soils, and find themselves, as wealth and population increase, forced to resort to poorer ones, with diminished return to labour. Why she is enabled to afford such conclusive evidence of this is, that she pursues a policy tending to permit her people to have that real free trade which consists in having the power to choose between the foreign and domestic markets--a power, the exercise of which is denied to India and Ireland, Portugal and Turkey. She desires to exercise control over her own movements, and not over those of others; and therefore it is that her people become from day to day more free and her land from day to day more valuable. Turkey is the paradise of the system commonly known by the name of free trade--that system under which the artisan _is not permitted_ to take his place by the side of the producer of silk and cotton--and the consequence is, seen in the growing depopulation of the country, the increasing poverty and slavery of its people, the worthlessness of its land, and in the weakness of its government. Denmark, on the contrary, is the paradise of the system supposed to be opposed to free trade--that system under which the artisan and the farmer _are_ permitted to combine their efforts--and the consequence is seen in the increase of population, in the growth of wealth and freedom, in the growing value of land, in the increasing tendency to equality, and in the strength of its government, as exhibited in its resistance of the whole power of Northern Germany during the late Schleswig-Holstein war, and as afterward exhibited toward those of its own subjects who had aided in bringing on the war. "It is to the honour," says Mr. Laing [191] -- "Of the Danish king and government, and it is a striking example of the different progress of civilization in the North and in the South of Europe, that during the three years this insurrection lasted, and now that it is quelled, not one individual has been tried and put to death, or in any way punished for a civil or political offence by sentence of a court-martial, or of any other than the ordinary courts of justice; not one life has been taken but in the field of battle, and by the chance of war. Banishment for life has been the highest punishment inflicted upon traitors who, as military officers deserting their colours, breaking their oaths of fidelity, and giving up important trusts to the enemy, would have been tried by court-martial and shot in any other country. Civil functionaries who had abused their official power, and turned it against the government, were simply dismissed." These facts contrast strikingly with those recently presented to view by Irish history. Ireland had no friends in her recent attempt at change of government. Her leaders had not even attempted to call in the aid of other nations. They stood alone, and yet the English government deemed it necessary to place them in an island at a distance of many thousand miles, and to keep them there confined. Denmark, on the contrary, was surrounded by enemies close at hand--enemies that needed no ships for the invasion of her territory--and yet she contented herself with simple banishment. The policy of the former looks abroad, and therefore is it weak at home. That of the latter looks homeward, and therefore is it that at home she is strong; small as she is, compared with other powers, in her territory and in the number of her population. CHAPTER XIX. HOW FREEDOM GROWS IN SPAIN AND IN BELGIUM. Spain expelled the industrious portion of her population, and almost at the same time acquired colonies of vast extent, to which she looked for revenue. Centralization here was almost perfect--and here, as everywhere, it has been accompanied by poverty and weakness. With difficulty she has been enabled to defend her rights on her own soil, and she has found it quite impossible to maintain her power abroad, and for the reason that her system tended to the impoverishment of her people and the destruction of the value of labour and land. Her history tends throughout to show that nations which desire respect for their own rights, _must_ learn to respect those of others. The policy of Spain has been unfavourable to commerce, internal and external. Exchanges at home were burdened with heavy taxes, and the raw materials of manufacture, even those produced at home, were so heavily taxed on their passage from the place of production to that of consumption, that manufactures could not prosper. The great middle class of artisans could therefore scarcely be found, and the scattered agriculturists were thus deprived of their aid in the effort to establish or maintain their freedom. Towns and cities decayed, and land, became more and more consolidated in the hands of great noblemen on one side and the church on the other, and talent found no field for its exercise, except in the service of the church or the state. While thus destroying internal trade by taxation, efforts were made to build it up by aid of restrictions on external trade; but the very fact that the former was destroyed made it necessary for thousands and tens of thousands of persons to endeavour to earn wages in the smuggling of foreign merchandise, and the country was filled with men ever ready to violate the law, because of the cheapness of labour. The laws restraining the import of foreign merchandise were easily violated, because its bulk was small and its value great; whereas those interfering with the transit of raw materials were easily enforced, because the bulk was great and their value small; and therefore the whole system tended effectually to prevent the artisan from taking his place by the side of the grower of food and wool; and hence the depopulation, poverty, and weakness of this once rich and powerful country. Fortunately for her, however, the day arrived when she was to lose her colonies, and find herself compelled to follow the advice of Adam Smith, and look to home for revenue; and almost from that date to the present, notwithstanding foreign invasions, civil wars, and revolutions, her course has been onward, and with each succeeding year there has been a greater tendency toward diversification of employment, the growth of towns and other places of local exchange, the improvement of agriculture, the strengthening of the people in their relations with the government, and the strengthening of the nation as regards the other nations of the earth. Among the earliest measures tending toward the emancipation of the people of Germany, Russia, and Denmark, was, as has been seen, the removal of restrictions upon the trade in land, the great machine of production. So, too, was it in Spain. According to a return made to the Cortes of Cadiz, out of sixty millions of acres then in cultivation, only twenty millions were held by the men who cultivated them, while thirty were in the hands of great nobles, and ten were held by the church. Under a decree of secularization, a large portion of the latter has been sold, and the result is seen in the fact that the number of owners cultivating their own properties has risen from 273,760 to 546,100; and the number of farms from 403,408 to 1,095,200.[192] A further step toward freedom and the establishment of equal rights, is found in the abolition of a great variety of small and vexatious taxes, substituting therefor a land-tax, payable alike by the small and the great proprietor; and in the abolition of internal duties on the exchange of the raw materials of manufacture. With each of these we find increasing tendency toward the establishment of that division of employment which gives value to labour and land. From 1841 to 1846, the number of spindles in Catalonia has grown from 62,000 to 121,000, and that of looms from 30,000 to 45,000, while cotton factories had been put in operation in various other parts of the kingdom.[193] Still later, numerous others have been started, and a traveller of the past year informs us that the province of Granada now bids fair to rival Catalonia in her manufactures.[194] In 1841, the total value of the products of the cotton manufacture was estimated at about four millions of dollars, but in 1846 it had risen to more than six and a half millions. The woollen manufacture had also rapidly increased, and this furnishes employment at numerous places throughout the kingdom, one of which, Alcoy, is specially referred to by M. Block,[195] as situated among the mountains which separate the ancient kingdom of Valencia and Murcia, and as having no less than 24,000 spindles, and 12,000 men, in addition to a great number of women and children, engaged in this branch of manufacture. In regard to the progress of manufactures generally, the following statement, furnished by a recent American traveller to whom we are indebted for an excellent work on Spain, furnishes much information, and cannot be read without interest by all those who derive pleasure from witnessing advance in civilization.[196] "Of late years there has been a considerable effort to extend and improve the production and manufacture of silk, and the result has been very favourable. The silkworm, formerly confined, in a great degree, to Valencia and Murcia, is now an article of material importance in the wealth of the two Castiles, Rioja, and Aragon. The silk fabrics of Talavera, Valencia, and Barcelona are many of them admirably wrought, and are sold at rates which appear very moderate. I had particular occasion to note the cheapness of the damasks which are sold in Madrid from the native looms. It is not easy to imagine any thing more magnificent, of their kind. The woollen cloths, too, of home manufacture, are, some of them, very admirable, and the coarser kinds supply, I believe, a considerable part of the national demand. In cheapness I have never seen them surpassed. The finer qualities do not bear so favourable a comparison with the foreign article; but those who were familiar with the subject informed me that their recent improvement had been very decided. Many laudable efforts have been made to render the supply of wool more abundant, and to improve its quality, and there has been a considerable importation of foreign sheep, with a view to crossing on the native breeds. The sheep-rearing interest is so very large in Spain, that any material improvement in the quality of the wool must add greatly to the national wealth, as well as to the importance of the woollen manufacture and its ability to encounter foreign competition. "In the general movement toward an increased and more valuable production of the raw material for manufacture, the flax of Leon and Galicia and the hemp of Granada have not been forgotten. But the article in which the most decided and important progress has been made, is the great staple, iron. In 1832; the iron-manufacture of Spain was at so low an ebb, that it was necessary to import from England the large lamp-posts of cast metal, which adorn the Plaza de Armas of the Palace. They bear the London mark, and tell their own story. A luxury for the indoors enjoyment or personal ostentation of the monarch, would of course have been imported from any quarter, without regard to appearances. But a monument of national dependence upon foreign industry would hardly have been erected upon such a spot, had there been a possibility of avoiding it by any domestic recourse. In 1850 the state of things had so far changed, that there were in the kingdom twenty-five founderies, eight furnaces of the first class, with founderies attached, and twenty-five iron-factories, all prosperously and constantly occupied. The specimens of work from these establishments, which are to be seen in the capital and the chief cities of the provinces, are such as to render the independence and prospective success of the nation in this particular no longer matters of question. In the beginning of 1850, the Marquis of Molins, then Minister of Marine Affairs, upon the petition of the iron-manufacturers, directed inquiries to be made, by a competent board, into the quality of the native iron, and the extent to which the home manufacture might be relied on for the purposes of naval construction. The result was so satisfactory, that in March of the same year a royal order was issued from the department, directing all future contracts to be made with the domestic establishments. This, indeed, has been the case since 1845, at the arsenal of Ferrol, which has been supplied altogether from the iron-works of Biscay. The government, however, had determined for the future to be chiefly its own purveyor, and national founderies at Ferrol and Trubia, constructed without regard to expense, were about to go into operation when the royal order was published." A necessary consequence of all these steps toward freedom and association has been great agricultural improvement. "The impoverished industry and neglected agriculture of the land," says Mr. Wallis-- "Have received an accession of vigorous labour, no longer tempted into sloth by the seductions of a privileged and sensual life. In the cities and larger towns the convent buildings have been displaced, to make room for private dwellings of more or less convenience and elegance, or have been appropriated as public offices or repositories of works of art. The extensive grounds which were monopolized by some of the orders, in the crowded midst of populous quarters, have been converted into walks or squares, dedicated to the public health and recreation. In a word, what was intended in the beginning as the object of monastic endowments, has been to some extent realized. What was meant for the good of all, though intrusted to a few, has been taken from the few who used it as their own, and distributed, rudely it may be, but yet effectually, among the many who were entitled to and needed it."--P. 276. At the close of the last century, the value of agricultural products was officially returned at 5143 millions of reals, or about 260 millions of dollars. In 1829, a similar return made it somewhat less, or about 232 millions, but since that time the increase has been so rapid, that it is now returned at nearly 450 millions of dollars.[197] Twenty years since, the means of transporting produce throughout the country were so bad that famine might prevail in Andalusia, and men might perish there in thousands, while grain wasted on the fields of Castile, because the _silos_ of the latter no longer afforded room to store it. Even now, "in some districts, it is a familiar fact, "That the wine of one vintage has to be emptied, in waste, in order to furnish skins for the wine of the next--the difficulty and cost of transportation to market being such as utterly to preclude the producer from attempting a more profitable disposition of it. Staples of the most absolute and uniform necessity--wheat, for instance--are at prices absurdly different in different parts of the kingdom; the proximity to market being such as to give them their current value in one quarter, while in another they are perhaps rotting in their places of deposite, without the hope of a demand. Until such a state of things shall have been cured, it will be useless to improve the soil, or stimulate production in the secluded districts; and of course every circumstance which wears the promise of such cure must enter into the calculations of the future, and avail in them according to its probabilities."--_Wallis_, P. 328. We see thus that here, as everywhere, the power to make roads is least where the necessity for them is greatest. Had the farmers of Castile a near market in which their wheat could be combined with the wool that is shorn in their immediate neighbourhood, they could export cloth, and _that_ could travel even on bad roads. As it is, they have to export both wheat and wool, and on such roads, whereas if the artisan could, in accordance, with the doctrines of Adam Smith, everywhere take his place by the side of the ploughman and the shepherd; and if women and children could thus everywhere be enabled to find other employment than in field labour, towns would grow up, and men would become rich and strong, and roads could be made without difficulty. Even now, however, there is a rapidly increasing tendency toward the construction of railroads, and the completion and enlargement of canals, and not a doubt can be entertained that in a few years the modes of intercourse will be so improved as to put an end to the enormous differences in prices here observed.[198] Those differences are, however, precisely similar to those now regarded as desirable by English writers who find compensation for the loss of men, "in the great stimulus that our extensive emigration will give to every branch of the shipping interest."[199] The nearer the place of exchange the fewer ships and seamen are needed, and the richer _must_ grow the producer and the consumer, because the number of persons among whom the total product is to be divided is then the least. With increased power of association there is a steady improvement in the provision for education. Half a century since, the whole number of students at all the educational establishments in the kingdom was but 30,000,[200] and it had not materially varied in 1835; whereas the number now in the public schools alone, for the support of which there is an annual appropriation of $750,000, is above 700,000, or one to 17 of the population. The primary and other schools reach the number of 16,000; and besides these and the universities, there are numerous other institutions devoted to particular branches of education, some of which are provided for by government, and others by public bodies or private subscription. "No impediment," says Mr. Wallis-- "Is thrown by law in the way of private teachers--except that they are required to produce certain certificates of good character and conduct, and of having gone through a prescribed course, which is more or less extensive, in proportion to the rank of the institution they may desire to open." As a necessary consequence of these changes there has been a great increase in the value of land, and of real estate generally. Mr. Wallis states that the church property has "commanded an average of nearly double the price at which it was officially assessed according to the standard of value at the time of its seizure," and we need desire no better evidence that man is tending gradually toward freedom than is to be found in this single fact. It might be supposed, that with the increased tendency to convert at home the raw products of the earth, there would be a diminution of foreign commerce; but directly the reverse is the case. In the three years, from 1846 to 1849, the import of raw cotton rose from 16,000,000 to 27,000,000 of pounds; that of yarn from 5,200,000 to 6,800,000 pounds; and that of bar-iron from 5,400,000 to more than 8,000,000; and the general movements of exports and imports for the last twenty-four years, as given by M. Block, (p. 18,) has been, as follows:-- Imports, in francs. Exports, in francs. ------------------- ------------------- 1827......... 95,235,000......... 71,912,000 1843......... 114,325,000......... 82,279,000 1846......... 157,513,000......... 129,106,000 And to this may be added, as since published by the government, the account for 1851......... 171,912,000......... 124,377,000 With each step in the direction of bringing the consumer and the producer to take their places by the side of each other, the people acquire power to protect themselves, as is seen in the freedom of debate in the Chamber of Deputies, and in the extent to which those debates, with their comments thereon, are made known throughout the kingdom by the writers of a newspaper press that, although restricted, has been well characterized as, "fearless and plain speaking." In 1826, Madrid had but two daily newspapers, both of them most contemptible in character. In February, 1850, there were thirteen, with an aggregate circulation of 35,000 copies; and yet Madrid has no commerce, and can furnish little advertising for their support. [201] With the increase of production and of wealth, and with the growth of the power of association, and of intelligence among the people, the government gradually acquires strength in the community of nations, and power to enforce its laws, as is here shown in the large decline that has taken place in the English exports to Portugal and Gibraltar, heretofore the great smuggling depots for English manufactures,[202] as compared with those to Spain direct: Portugal. Gibraltar. Spain. --------- ---------- ------ In 1839..... £1,217,082..... £1,433,932...... £262,231 1852..... 1,048,356..... 481,286...... 1,015,493 The system that looks to consolidation of the land tends toward inequality, and that such has been, and is, the tendency of that of England, wherever fully carried out, has been shown. Those of Germany, Russia, and Denmark tend in the opposite direction, and under them men are becoming daily more independent in their action, and consequently more and more kindly and respectful in their treatment of each other. Such, likewise, is the case in Spain. "The Spaniard," says Mr. Wallis-- "Has a sense of equality, which blesses him who gives as well as him who takes. If he requires the concession from others, he demands it chiefly and emphatically through the concessions which he makes to them. There is so much self-respect involved in his respect to others, and in his manifestation of it, that reciprocity is unavoidable. To this, and this mainly, is attributable the high, courteous bearing, which is conspicuous in all the people, and which renders the personal intercourse of the respective classes and conditions less marked by strong and invidious distinctions, than in any other nation with whose manners and customs I am familiar. It is this, perhaps, more than any other circumstance, which has tempered and made sufferable the oppression of unequal and despotic institutions, illustrating 'the advantage to which,' in the words of a philosophic writer, 'the manners of a people may turn the most unfavourable position and the worst laws.'"--P. 383. Again, he says-- "If in the midst of the very kindness which made him at home upon the briefest acquaintance, he should perceive an attentive politeness, approaching so near to formality as now and then to embarrass him, he would soon be brought to understand and admire it as the expression of habitual consideration for the feelings of others. He would value it the more when he learned from its universality, that what was elsewhere chiefly a thing of manners and education, was there a genial instinct developed into a social charity."--P. 207. The "popular element is fully at work," and it requires, says the same author, but a comparison of the present with the past, "to remove all doubts of the present, and to justify the happiest augury." "The lotos of freedom has," he continues-- "Been tasted, and it cannot readily be stricken from their lips. So long as the more important guaranties are not altogether violated--so long as the government substantially, dedicates itself to the public good, by originating and fostering schemes of public usefulness, it may take almost any liberties with forms and non-essentials. Much further it will not be permitted to go, and every day diminishes the facility with which it may go even thus far. Every work of internal improvement, which brings men closer together, enabling them to compare opinions with readiness and concentrate strength for their maintenance; every new interest that is built up; every heavy and permanent investment of capital or industry; every movement that develops and diffuses the public intelligence and energy, is a bulwark more or less formidable against reaction. Nay, every circumstance that makes the public wiser, richer, or better, must shorten the career of arbitrary rule. The compulsion, which was and still is a necessary evil for the preservation of peace, must be withdrawn when peace becomes an instinct as well as a necessity. The existence of a stringent system will no longer be acquiesced in when the people shall have grown less in need of government, and better able to direct it for themselves. Thus, in their season, the very interests which shall be consolidated and made vigorous by forced tranquillity will rise, themselves, into the mastery. The stream of power as it rolls peacefully along, is daily strengthening the banks, which every day, though imperceptibly, encroach on it." --P. 381. * * * * * BELGIUM. Belgium is a country with four and a half millions of inhabitants, or about one-half more than the State of New York. It is burdened with a heavy debt assumed at the period of its separation from Holland, and it finds itself compelled to maintain an army that is large in proportion to its population, because in the vicinity of neighbours who have at all times shown themselves ready to make it the battle-ground of Europe. In no country of Europe has there been so great a destruction, of property and life, and yet in none has there been so great a tendency toward freedom; and for the reason that in none has there been manifested so little disposition to interfere with the affairs of other nations. It is burdened now with a taxation amounting to about twenty-three millions of dollars, or five dollars and a half per head; and yet, amid all the revolutions and attempts at revolution by which the peace of Europe is disturbed, we hear nothing of the Belgians, whose course is as tranquil as it was before the days of 1848--and this is a consequence of following in the path indicated by Adam Smith. The policy of Belgium looks more homeward than that of any nation of Europe. She has no colonies, and she seeks none. To a greater extent than almost any other nation, she has sought to enable her farmers to have local places of exchange, giving value to her labour and her land. Where these exist, men are certain to become free; and equally certain is it that where they do not exist, freedom must be a plant of exceedingly slow growth, even where it does not absolutely perish for want of nourishment. If evidence be desired of the freedom of the Belgians, it is to be found in the fact that there is nowhere to be seen, as we are on all hands assured, a more contented, virtuous, and generally comfortable population than that engaged in the cultivation of her fields. The following sketch is from a report published by order of Parliament, and cannot fail to be read with interest by those who desire to understand how it is that the dense population of this little country is enabled to draw from a soil naturally indifferent such large returns, while the Hindoo, with all his advantages of early civilization, wealth, and population, perishes of famine or flies from pestilence, leaving behind him, uncultivated, the richest soils, and sells himself to slavery in Cuba:-- "The farms in Belgium rarely exceed one hundred acres. The number containing fifty acres is not great; those of thirty or twenty are more numerous, but the number of holdings of from five to ten and twenty acres is very considerable. "The small farms of from five to ten acres, which abound in many parts of Belgium, closely resemble the small holdings in Ireland; but the small Irish cultivator exists in a state of miserable privation of the common comforts and conveniences of civilized life, while the Belgian peasant farmer enjoys a large share of those comforts. The houses of the small cultivators of Belgium are generally substantially built, and in good repair; they have commonly a sleeping room in the attic, and closets for beds connected with the lower apartment, which is convenient in size; a small cellarage for the dairy, and store for the grain, as well as an oven, and an outhouse for the potatoes, with a roomy cattle-stall, piggery, and poultry loft. The house generally contains decent furniture, the bedding sufficient in quantity, and an air of comfort, pervades the establishment. In the cow-house the cattle are supplied with straw for bedding; the dung and moisture are carefully collected in the tank; the ditches had been secured to collect materials for manure; the dry leaves, potato-tops, &c. had been collected in a moist ditch to undergo the process of fermentation, and heaps of compost were in course of preparation. The premises were kept in neat and compact order, and a scrupulous attention to a most rigid economy was everywhere apparent. The family were decently clad; none of them were ragged or slovenly, even when their dress consisted of the coarsest material. "In the greater part of the flat country of Belgium the soil is light and sandy, and easily worked; but its productive powers are certainly inferior to the general soil of Ireland, and the climate does not appear to be superior. To the soil and climate therefore, the Belgian does not owe his superiority. The difference is to be found in the system, of cultivation, and the forethought of the people. The cultivation of small farms in Belgium differs from the Irish: 1. In the quantity of stall-fed stock which is kept, and by which a supply of manure is regularly secured; 2. In the strict attention paid to the collection of manure, which is skilfully husbanded; 3. By the adoption of rotations of crop. We found no plough, horse, or cart--only a spade, fork, wheelbarrow, and handbarrow. The farmer had no assistance besides that of his family. The whole land is trenched very deep with the spade. The stock consisted of a couple of cows, a calf or two, one or two pigs; sometimes a goat or two, and some poultry. The cows are altogether stall-fed, on straw, turnips, clover, rye, vetches, carrots, potatoes, and a kind of soup made by boiling up the potatoes, peas, beans, bran, cut-hay, &e., which, given warm, is said to be very wholesome, and promotive of the secretion of milk. Near distilleries and breweries grains are given. "Some small farmers agree to find stall-room and straw for sheep, and furnish fodder at the market price, for the dung. The dung and moisture are collected in a fosse in the stable. Lime is mingled with the scouring of the ditches, vegetable garbage, leaves, &c. On six-acre farms, plots are appropriated to potatoes, wheat, barley, clover, flax, rye, carrots, turnips, or parsnips, vetches, and rye, as green food for cattle. The flax is heckled and spun by the wife in winter; and three weeks at the loom in spring weaves up all the thread. In some districts every size, from a quarter acre to six acres, is found. The former holders devoted their time to weaving. As far as I could learn, there was no tendency to subdivision of the small holdings. I heard of none under five acres held by the class of peasant farmers; and six, seven, or eight acres is the more common size. The average rent is 20s. an acre. Wages, 10d. a day. "A small occupier, whose farm we examined near Ghent, paid £9 7s. 6d. for six acres, with a comfortable house, stabling, and other offices attached, all very good of their kind--being 20s. an acre for the land, and £3 7s. 6d. for house and offices. This farmer had a wife and five children, and appeared to live in much comfort. He owed little or nothing."--_Nicholls's Report_. These people have employment for every hour in the year, and they find a market close at hand for every thing they can raise. They are not forced to confine themselves to cotton or sugar, tobacco or wheat; nor are they forced to waste their labour in carrying their products to a distance so great that no manure can be returned. From this country there is no export of men, women, and children, such as we see from Ireland. The "crowbar brigade" is here unknown, and it may be doubted if any term conveying the meaning of the word "eviction" is to be found in their vocabulary. With a surface only one-third as great as that of Ireland, and with a soil naturally far inferior, Belgium supports a population almost half as great as Ireland has ever possessed; and yet we never hear of the cheap Belgian labour inundating the neighbouring countries, to the great advantage of those who desire to build up "great works" like those of Britain. The policy of Belgium looks to increasing the value of both labour and land, whereas that of England looks to diminishing the value of both. With every advantage of soil and climate, the population of Portugal declines, and her people become more enslaved from day to day, while her government, is driven to repudiation of her debts. Belgium, on the contrary, grows in wealth and population, and her people become more free; and the cause of difference is, that the policy of the former has always looked to repelling the artisan, and thus preventing the growth of towns and of the habit of association; while that of the latter has always looked to bringing the artisan to the raw material, and thus enabling her people to combine their efforts for their improvement in material, moral, and intellectual condition, without which there can be no increase of freedom. Russia and Spain seek to raise the value of labour and land, and they are now attracting population. The English system, based on cheap labour, destroys the value of both labour and land, and therefore it is that there is so large an export of men from the countries subject to it--Africa, India, Ireland, Scotland, England, Virginia, and Carolina. CHAPTER XX. OF THE DUTY OF THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES. The slave _must_ apply himself to such labour as his master may see fit to direct him to perform, and he must give to that master the produce of his exertions, receiving in return whatever the master may see fit to give him. He is limited to a single place of exchange. Precisely similar to this is the system which looks to limiting all the people of the earth, outside of England, to agriculture as the sole means of employment; and carried out by smothering in their infancy the manufactures of other nations, while crushing the older ones of India by compelling her to receive British manufactures free of duty, and refusing to permit her to have good machinery, while taxing her spindles and looms at home, and their products when sent to Britain. It is one which looks to allowing the nations of the world to have but one market, in which all are to compete for the sale of their raw products, and one market, in which all are to compete for the purchase of manufactured ones; leaving to the few persons who control that market the power to fix the prices of all they require to buy and all they desire to sell. Cotton and corn, indigo and wool, sugar and coffee, are merely the various forms in which labour is sold; and the cheaper they are sold, the cheaper must be the labour employed in producing them, the poorer and more enslaved must be the labourer, the less must be the value of land, the more rapid must be its exhaustion and abandonment, and the greater must be the tendency toward the transport of the enslaved labourer to some new field of action, there to repeat the work of exhaustion and abandonment. Hence it is that we see the slave trade prevail to so great an extent in all the countries subject to the British system, except those in which famine and pestilence are permitted silently to keep down the population to the level of a constantly diminishing supply of food, as in Portugal, Turkey, and Jamaica. The system to which the world is indebted for these results is called "free-trade;" but there can be no freedom of trade where there is no freedom of man, for the first of all commodities to be exchanged is labour, and the freedom of man consists only in the exercise of the right to determine for himself in what manner his labour shall be employed, and how he will dispose of its products. If the British system tends toward freedom, proof of the fact will be found in the free employment of labour where it exists, and in the exercise by the labourer of a large control over the application of its produce. Are these things to be found in India? Certainly not. The labourer there is driven from the loom and forced to raise sugar or cotton, and his whole control over what is paid by the consumer for the products of his labour cannot exceed fifteen per cent. Can they be found in Ireland, in Turkey, or in Portugal? Certainly not. The labourers of those countries now stand before the world distinguished for their poverty, and for their inability to determine for themselves for whom they will labour or what shall be their reward. Were it otherwise, the "free trade" system would fail to produce the effect intended. Its object is, and has always been, that of preventing other communities from mining the coal or smelting the ore provided for their use by the great Creator of all things, and in such vast abundance; from making or obtaining machinery to enable them to avail themselves of the expansive power of steam; from calling to their aid any of the natural agents required in the various processes of manufacture; from obtaining knowledge that might lead to improvement in manufactures of any kind; and, in short, from doing any thing but raise sugar, coffee, cotton, wool, indigo, silk, and other raw commodities, to be carried, as does the slave of Virginia or Texas with the product of his labour, to one great purchaser, who determines upon their value and upon the value of all the things they are to receive in exchange for them. It is the most gigantic system of slavery the world has yet seen, and therefore it is that freedom gradually disappears from every country over which England is enabled to obtain control, as witness the countries to which reference has just been made. There are, however, as has been shown, several nations of Europe in which men are daily becoming more free; and the reason for this is to be found in the fact that they have resisted this oppressive system. Germany and Russia, Spain, Denmark, Belgium, and other states, have been determined to protect their farmers in their efforts to bring the loom and the anvil to their side, and to have towns and other places of exchange in their neighbourhood, at which they could exchange raw products for manufactured ones and for manure; and in every one in which that protection has been efficient, labour and land have become, and are becoming, more valuable and man more free. In this country protection has always, to some extent, existed; but at some times it has been efficient, and at others not; and our tendency toward freedom or slavery has always been in the direct ratio of its efficiency or inefficiency. In the period from 1824 to 1833, the tendency was steadily in the former direction, but it was only in the latter part of it that it was made really efficient. Then mills and furnaces increased in number, and there was a steady increase in the tendency toward the establishment of local places of exchange; and then it was that Virginia held her convention at which was last discussed in that State the question of emancipation. In 1833, however, protection was abandoned, and a tariff was established by which it was provided that we should, in a few years, have a system of merely revenue duties; and from that date the abandonment of the older States proceeded with a rapidity never before known, and with it grew the domestic slave trade and the pro-slavery feeling. Then it was that were passed the laws restricting emancipation and prohibiting education; and then it was that the export of slaves from Virginia and the Carolinas was so great that the population of those States remained almost, if not quite stationary, and that the growth of black population fell from thirty per cent., in the ten previous years, to twenty-four percent.[203] That large export of slaves resulted in a reduction of the price of Southern products to a point never before known; and thus it was that the system called free trade provided cheap cotton. Slavery grew at the South, and at the North; for with cheap cotton and cheap food came so great a decline in the demand for labour, that thousands of men found themselves unable to purchase this cheap food to a sufficient extent to feed their wives and their children. A paper by "a farm labourer" thus describes that calamitous portion of our history, when the rapid approach of the system called free trade, under the strictly revenue provisions of the Compromise Tariff, had annihilated competition for the purchase of labour:-- "The years 1839, 1840, and 1841 were striking elucidations of such cases; when the cry of sober, industrious, orderly men--'Give me _work_! only give me work; MAKE YOUR OWN TERMS--MYSELF AND FAMILY HAVE NOTHING TO EAT'--was heard in our land. In those years thousands of cases of the kind occurred in our populous districts."--_Pittsburgh Dispatch_. That such was the fact must be admitted by all who recollect the great distress that existed in 1841-2. Throughout the whole length and breadth of the land, there was an universal cry of "Give me work; make your own terms--myself and family have nothing to eat;" and the consequence of this approach toward slavery was so great a diminution in the consumption of food, that the prices at which it was then exported to foreign countries were lower than they had been for many years; and thus it was that the farmer paid for the system which had diminished the freedom of the labourer and the artisan. It was this state of things that re-established protection for the American labourer, whether in the field or in the workshop. The tariff of 1842 was passed, and at once there arose competition for the purchase of labour. Mills were to be built, and men were needed to quarry the stone and get out the lumber, and other men were required to lay the stone and fashion the lumber into floors and roofs, doors and windows; and the employment thus afforded enabled vast numbers of men again to occupy houses of their own, and thus was produced a new demand for masons and carpenters, quarrymen and lumbermen. Furnaces were built, and mines were opened, and steam-engines were required; and the men employed at these works were enabled to consume more largely of food, while ceasing to contend with the agricultural labourer for employment on the farm. Mills were filled with females, and the demand for cloths increased, with corresponding diminution in the competition for employment in the making of shirts and coats. Wages rose, and they rose in every department of labour; the evidence of which is to be found in the fact that the consumption of food and fuel greatly increased, while that of cloth almost doubled, and that of iron trebled in the short period of five years. How, indeed, could it be otherwise than that the reward of labour should rise? The cotton manufacturer needed labourers, male and female, and so did his neighbour of the woollens mill; and the labourers they now employed could buy shoes and hats. The iron-masters and the coal-miners needed workmen, and the men they employed needed cotton and woollen cloths; and they could consume more largely of food. The farmer's markets tended to improve, and he could buy more largely of hats and shoes, ploughs and harrows, and the hatmakers and shoemakers, and the makers of ploughs and harrows, needed more hands; and therefore capital was everywhere looking for labour, where before labour had been looking for capital. The value of cottons, and woollens, and iron produced in 1846, as compared with that of 1842, was greater by a hundred millions of dollars; and all this went to the payment of labour, for all the profits of the iron-master and of the cotton and woollen manufacturer went to the building of new mills and furnaces, or to the enlargement of the old ones. Unhappily, however, for us, our legislators were smitten with a love of the system called free trade. They were of opinion that we were, by right, an agricultural nation, and that so we must continue; and that the true way to produce competition for the purchase of labour was to resolve the whole nation into a body of farmers--and the tariff of 1842 was repealed. If the reader will now turn to page 107, he will see how large must have been the domestic slave trade from 1835 to 1840, compared with that of the period from 1840 to 1845. The effect of this in increasing the crop and reducing the price of cotton was felt with great severity in the latter period,[204] and it required time to bring about a change. We are now moving in the same direction in which we moved from 1835 to 1840. For four years past, we have not only abandoned the building of mills and furnaces, but have closed hundreds of old ones, and centralization, therefore, grows from day to day. The farmer of Ohio can no longer exchange his food directly with the maker of iron. He must carry it to New York, as must the producer of cotton in Carolina; who sees the neighbouring factory closed. [205] Local places of exchange decline, and great cities take their place; and with the growth of centralization grows the slave trade, North and South. Palaces rise in New York and Philadelphia, while droves of black slaves are sent to Texas to raise cotton, and white ones at the North perish of disease, and sometimes almost of famine. "We could tell," says a recent writer in one of the New York journals-- "Of one room, twelve feet by twelve, in which were five resident families, comprising twenty persons of both sexes and all ages, with only two beds, without partition or screen, or chair or table, and all dependent for their miserable support upon the sale of chips, gleaned from the streets, at four cents a basket--of another, still smaller and still more destitute, inhabited by a man, a woman, two little girls, and a boy, who were supported by permitting the room to be used as a rendezvous by the abandoned women of the street--of another, an attic room seven feet by five, containing scarcely an article of furniture but a bed, on which lay a fine-looking man in a raging fever, without medicine or drink or suitable food, his toil-worn wife engaged in cleaning dirt from the floor, and his little child asleep on a bundle of rags in the corner--of another of the same dimensions, in which we found, seated on low boxes around a candle placed on a keg, a woman and her oldest daughter, (the latter a girl of fifteen, and, as we were told, a prostitute,) sewing on shirts, _for the making of which they were paid four cents apiece, and even at that price, out of which they had to support two small children, they could not get a supply of work_--of another of about the same size occupied by a street rag-picker and his family, the income of whose industry was eight dollars a month--of another, scarcely larger, into which we were drawn by the terrific screams of a drunken man beating his wife, containing no article of furniture whatever--another warmed only by a tin pail of lighted charcoal placed in the centre of the room, over which bent a blind man endeavouring to warm himself; around him three or four men and women swearing and quarrelling; in one corner on the floor a woman, who had died the day previous of disease, and in another two or three children sleeping on a pile of rags; (in regard to this room, we may say that its occupants were coloured people, and from them but a few days previous had been taken and adopted by one of our benevolent citizens a beautiful little white girl, four or five years of age, whose father was dead and whose mother was at Blackwell's Island;) another from which not long; since twenty persons, sick with fever were taken to the hospital, and every individual of them died. But why extend the catalogue? Or why attempt to convey to the imagination by words the hideous squalor and the deadly effluvia; the dim, undrained courts, oozing with pollution; the dark narrow stairways decayed with age, reeking with filth, and overrun with vermin; the rotten floors, ceilings begrimed, crumbling, ofttimes too low to permit you to stand upright, and windows stuffed with rags; or why try to portray the gaunt shivering forms and wild ghastly faces in these black and beetling abodes, wherein from cellar to garret ----'All life dies, death lives, and nature breeds Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, Abominable, unutterable!'" _N. York Courier and Inquirer_. Our shops are now everywhere filled with the products of the cheap labour of England--of the labour of those foreign women who make shirts at a penny apiece, finding the needles and the thread, and of those poor girl's who spend a long day at making artificial flowers for which they receive two pence, and then eke out the earnings of labour by the wages of prostitution; and our women are everywhere driven from employment--the further consequences of which may be seen in the following extract from another journal of the day:-- "A gentleman who had been deputed to inquire into the condition of this class of operatives, found one of the most expert of them working from five o'clock in the morning until eleven at night, yet earning only about three dollars a week. Out of this, she had to pay a dollar and a half for board, leaving a similar amount for fuel, clothing, and all other expenses. Her condition, however, as compared with that of her class generally, was one of opulence. The usual earnings were but two dollars a week, which, as respectable board, could be had nowhere for less; than a dollar and a half, _left only fifty cents for everything else_. The boarding-houses, even at this price, are of the poorest character, always noisome and unhealthy, and not unfrequently in vile neighbourhoods. With such positive and immediate evils to contend with, what wonder that so many needlewomen take 'the wages of sin?'" "Among the cases brought to light in New York, was that of an intelligent and skilful dressmaker, who was found in the garret of a cheap boarding-house, out of work, and nor are such instances unfrequent. The small remuneration which these workwomen receive keeps them living from hand to mouth, so that, in case of sickness, or scarcity of work, _they are sometimes left literally without a crust_."--_Philada. Evening-Bulletin_. If females cannot tend looms, make flowers, or do any other of those things in which mind takes in a great degree the place of physical power, they must make shirts at four cents apiece, or resort to prostitution--or, they may work in the fields; and this is nearly the latitude of choice allowed to them under the system called free trade. Every furnace that is closed in Pennsylvania by the operation of this system, lessens the value of labour in the neighbourhood, and drives out some portion of the people to endeavour to sell elsewhere their only commodity, labour. Some seek the cities and some go West to try their fortunes. So, too, with the closing of woollens mills in New York, and cotton mills in New England. Every such ease _compels_ people to leave their old homes and try to find new ones--and in this form the slave trade now exists at the North to a great extent. The more people thus _driven_ to the cities, the cheaper is labour, and the more rapid is the growth of drunkenness and crime; and these effects are clearly visible in the police reports of all our cities.[206] Centralization, poverty, and crime go always hand in hand with each other. The closing of mills and furnaces in Maryland lessens the demand for labour there, and the smaller that demand the greater _must_ be the necessity on the part of those who own slaves to sell them to go South; and here we find the counterpart of the state of things already described as existing in. New York. The Virginian, limited to negroes as the only commodity into which he can manufacture his corn and thus enable it to travel cheaply to market, sends his crop to Richmond, and the following extract of a letter from that place shows how the system works:-- "_Richmond, March_ 3, 1853. "I saw several children sold; the girls brought the highest price. Girls from 12 to 18 years old brought from $500 to $800. "I must say that the slaves did not display as much feeling as I had expected, as a general thing--but there was _one_ noble exception--God bless her! and save her, too!! as I hope he will in some way, for if he does not interpose, there were no men there that would. "She was a fine-looking woman about 25 years old, with three _beautiful_ children. Her children as well as herself were neatly dressed. She attracted my attention at once on entering the room, and I took my stand near her to learn her answers to the various questions put to her by the traders. _One_ of these traders asked her what was the matter with her eyes? Wiping away the tears, she replied, 'I s'pose I have been crying.' 'Why do you cry?' 'Because I have left my man behind, and his master won't let him come along.' 'Oh, if I buy you, I will furnish you with a better husband, or man, as you call him, than your old one.' 'I don't want any _better_ and won't have any _other_ as long as he lives.' 'Oh, but you will though, if I buy you,' '_No, massa, God helping me, I never will_.'"--_New York Tribune_. At the North, the poor girl driven out from the cotton or the woollens mill is forced to make shirts at four cents each, or sell herself to the horrible slavery of prostitution. At the South, this poor woman, driven put from Virginia, may perhaps at some time be found making one of the _dramatis personæ_ in scenes similar to those here described by Dr. Howe:-- "If Howard or Mrs. Fry ever discovered so ill-administered a den of thieves as the New Orleans prison, they never described it. In the negro's apartment I saw much which made me blush that I was a white man; and which for a moment stirred up an evil spirit in my animal nature. Entering a large paved court-yard, around which ran galleries filled with slaves of all ages, sexes, and colours, I heard the snap of a whip, every stroke of which sounded like the sharp crack of a pistol. I turned my head, and beheld a sight which absolutely chilled me to the marrow of my bones, and gave me, for the first time in my life, the sensation of my hair stiffening at the roots. There lay a black girl flat upon her face on a board, her two thumbs tied, and fastened to one end, her feet tied and drawn tightly to the other end, while a strap passed over the small of her back, and fastened around the board, compressed her closely to it. Below the strap she was entirely naked. By her side, and six feet off, stood a huge negro, with a long whip, which he applied with dreadful power and wonderful precision. Every stroke brought away a strip of skin, which clung to the lash, or fell quivering on the pavement, while the blood followed after it. The poor creature writhed and shrieked, and in a voice which showed alike her fear of death and her dreadful agony, screamed to her master who stood at her head, 'Oh, spare my life; don't cut my soul out!' But still fell the horrid lash; still strip after strip peeled off from the skin; gash after gash was cut in her living flesh, until it became a livid and bloody mass of raw and quivering muscle. "It was with the greatest difficulty I refrained from springing upon the torturer, and arresting his lash; but alas, what could I do, but turn aside to hide my tears for the sufferer, and my blushes for humanity! "This was in a public and regularly organized prison; the punishment was one recognised and authorized by the law. But think you the poor wretch had committed a heinous offence, and had been convicted thereof, and sentenced to the lash? Not at all! She was brought by her master to be whipped by the common executioner, without trial, judge, or jury, just at his beck or nod, for some real or supposed offence, or to gratify his own whim or malice. And he may bring her day after day, without cause assigned, and inflict any number of lashes he pleases, short of twenty-five, provided only he pays the fee. Or if he choose, he may have a private whipping-board on his own premises, and brutalize himself there. "A shocking part of |his horrid punishment was its publicity, as I have said; it was in a court-yard, surrounded by galleries, which were filled with coloured persons of all sexes--runaway slaves committed for some crime, or slaves up for sale. You would naturally suppose they crowded forward and gazed horror-stricken at the brutal spectacle below; but they did not; many of them hardly noticed it, and many were entirely indifferent to it. They went on in their childish pursuits, and some were laughing outright in the distant parts of the galleries;--so low can man created in God's image be sunk in brutality." Where, however, lies the fault of all this? Cheap cotton cannot be supplied to the world unless the domestic slave trade be maintained, and all the measures of England are directed toward obtaining a cheap and abundant supply of that commodity, to give employment to that "cheap and abundant supply of labour" so much desired by the writers in the very journal that furnished to its readers this letter of Dr. Howe.[207] To produce this cheap cotton the American labourer must be expelled from his home in Virginia to the wilds of Arkansas, there to be placed, perhaps, under the control of a _Simon Legree_.[208] That he may be expelled, the price of corn must be cheapened in Virginia; and that it may be cheapened, the cheap labourer of Ireland must be brought to England there, to compete with the Englishman for the reduction of labour to such a price as will enable England to "smother in their infancy" all attempts at manufacturing corn into any thing but negroes for Arkansas. That done, should the Englishman's "blood boil" on reading Uncle Tom's Cabin, he is told to recollect that it is "to his advantage that the slave should be permitted to wear his chains in peace." And yet this system, which looks everywhere to the enslavement of man, is dignified by the name of "free trade." The cheap-labour system of England produces the slave trade of America, India, and Ireland; and the manner in which it is enabled to produce that effect, and the extent of its "advantage" to the people of England itself, is seen in the following extract from a speech delivered at a public meeting in that country but a few weeks since:-- "The factory-law was so unblushingly violated that the chief inspector of that part of the factory district, Mr. Leonard Horner, had found himself necessitated to write to the Home Secretary, to say that he dared not, and would not send any of his sub-inspectors into certain districts until he had police protection. * * * And protection against whom? Against the factory-masters! Against the richest men in the district, against the most influential men in the district, against the magistrates of the district, against the men who hold her Majesty's commission, against the men who sat in the Petty Sessions as the representatives of royalty. * * * _And did the masters suffer for their violation of the law?_ In his own district it was a settled custom of the male, and to a great extent of the female workers in factories, to be in bed from 9, 10 or 11 o'clock on Sunday, because they were tired out by the labour of the week. Sunday was the only day on which they could rest their wearied frames. * * It would generally be found that, the longer the time of work, the smaller the wages. * * _He would rather be a slave in South Carolina, than a factory operative in England."_--_Speech of Rev, Dr. Bramwell, at Crampton_. The whole profit, we are told, results from "the last hour," and were that hour taken from the master, then the people of Virginia might be enabled to make their own cloth and iron, and labour might there become so valuable that slaves would cease to be exported to Texas, and cotton _must_ then rise in price; and in order to prevent the occurrence of such unhappy events, the great cotton manufacturers set at defiance the law of the land! The longer the working hours the more "cheap and abundant" will be the "supply of labour,"--and it is only by aid of this cheap, or slave, labour that, as we are told, "the supremacy of England in manufactures can be maintained." The cheaper the labour, the more rapid must be the growth of individual fortunes, and the more perfect the consolidation of the land. Extremes thus always meet. The more splendid the palace of the trader, whether in cloth, cotton, negroes, or Hindoos, the more squalid will be the poverty of the labourer, his wife and children,--and the more numerous the diamonds on the coat of Prince Esterhazy, the more ragged will be his serfs. The more that local places of exchange are closed, the greater will be the tendency to the exhaustion and abandonment of the land, and the more flourishing will be the slave trade, North and South,--and the greater will be the growth of pro-slavery at the South, and anti-slavery at the North. The larger the export of negroes to the South, the greater will be their tendency to run from their masters to the North, and the greater will be the desire at the North to shut them out, as is proved by the following law of Illinois, now but a few weeks old, by which negro slavery is, as is here seen, re-established in the territory for the government of which was passed the celebrated ordinance of 1787:-- "_Be it enacted by the People of the State of Illinois, represented in the General Assembly._ 3. If any negro, or mulatto, bond or free, shall come into this State, and remain ten days, with the evident intention of residing in the same, every such negro or mulatto shall be deemed guilty of a high misdemeanour, and for the first offence shall Be fined the sum of fifty dollars, to be recovered before any justice of the peace, in the county where said negro or mulatto may be found; said proceeding shall he in the name of the people Of the State of Illinois, and shall be tried by a jury of twelve men. 4. If said negro or mulatto shall be found guilty, and the fine assessed be not paid forthwith to the justice of the peace before whom said proceedings were had, said justice shall forthwith advertise said negro or mulatto, by posting up notices thereof in at least three of the most public places in his district; which said notices shall be posted up for ten days; and on the day, and at the time and place mentioned in said advertisement, the said justice shall at PUBLIC AUCTION proceed TO SELL said negro or mulatto to any person who will pay said fine and costs." Slavery now travels North, whereas only twenty years ago freedom was travelling South. That such is the case is the natural consequence of our submission, even in part, to the system that looks to _compelling_ the export of raw products, the exhaustion of the land, the cheapening of labour, and the export of the labourer. Wherever it is submitted to, slavery grows. Wherever it is resisted, slavery dies away, and freedom grows, as is shown in the following list of-- Countries whose policy looks Countries whose policy looks to cheapening labour. to raising the value of labour. ---------------------------- ------------------------------- The West Indies, Northern-Germany, Portugal, Russia, Turkey, Denmark, India, Spain, Ireland, Belgium, United States under the United States under the Compromise, and the tariffs of 1828 and 1842. tariff of 1846. Population declines in all the foreign countries in the first column, and it became almost stationary in the Northern Slave States, as it is now likely again to do, because of the large extent of the domestic slave trade. Population grows in the foreign countries of the second column, and it grew rapidly in the Northern Slave States, because of the limited export of negroes at the periods referred to. The first column gives the--so-called--free-trade countries, and the other those which have protected themselves against the system; and yet slavery grows in all those of the first column, and freedom in all those of the second. The first column gives us the countries in which education diminishes and intellect declines, and the period in our own history in which were passed the laws prohibiting the education of negroes. The second, those countries in which education advances, with great increase of intellectual activity; and in our own history it gives the period at which the Northern Slave States held conventions having in view the adoption of measures looking to the abolition of slavery. The first gives those foreign countries in which women and children must labour in the field or remain unemployed. The second those in which there is a daily increasing demand for the labour of women, to be employed in the lighter labour of manufactures. The first gives those in which civilization advances; and the second those in which there is a daily increasing tendency toward utter barbarism. We are now frequently invited to an alliance with Great Britain, and for what? For maintaining and extending the system whose effects are found in all the nations enumerated in the first column. For increasing the supply of cheap cotton, cheap corn, and cheap sugar, all of which require cheap, or slave, labour, and in return for these things we are to have cheap cloth, the produce of the cheap, or slave, labour of England, Scotland, and Ireland. It is as the advocate of freedom that Britain calls upon us to enter into more intimate relations with her. Her opponents are, as we are told, the despots of Europe, the men who are trampling on the rights of their subjects, and who are jealous of her because her every movement looks, as we are assured, to the establishment of freedom throughout the world. Were this so, it might furnish some reason for forgetting the advice of Washington in regard to "entangling alliances;" but, before adopting such a course, it would be proper to have evidence that the policy of Britain, at any time since the days of Adam Smith, has tended to the enfranchisement of man in any part of the world, abroad or at home. Of all the despots now complained of, the King of Naples stands most conspicuous, and it is in relation to him that a pamphlet has recently been published by the present Chancellor of the Exchequer, in which are found the following passages:-- "The general belief is, that the prisoners for political offences in the kingdom of the Two Sicilies are between fifteen or twenty and thirty thousand. The government withholds all means of accurate information, and accordingly there can be no certainty on the point. I have, however, found that this belief is shared by persons the most intelligent, considerate, and well informed. It is also, supported by what is known of the astonishing crowds confined in particular prisons, and especially by what is accurately known in particular provincial localities, as to the numbers of individuals missing from among the community. I have heard these numbers, for example, at Reggio and at Salerno; and from an effort to estimate them in reference to population, I do believe that twenty thousand is no unreasonable estimate. In Naples alone some hundreds are at this moment under indictment _capitally_; and when I quitted it a trial was expected to come on immediately, (called that of the fifteenth of May,) in which the number charged was between four and five hundred; including (though this is a digression) at least one or more persons of high station whoso opinions would in this country be considered more conservative than your own." * * * "In utter defiance of this law, the government, of which the Prefect of Police is an important member, through the agents of that department, watches and dogs the people, pays domiciliary visits, very commonly at night, ransacks houses, seizing papers and effects, and tearing up floors at pleasure under pretence of searching for arms, and imprisons men by the score, by the hundred, by the thousand, without any warrant whatever, sometimes without even any written authority at all, or any thing beyond the word of a policeman; constantly without any statement whatever of the nature of the offence. "Nor is this last fact wonderful. Men are arrested, not because they have committed, or are believed to have committed, any offence; but because they are persons whom it is thought convenient to confine and to get rid of, and against whom, therefore, some charge must be found or fabricated."[209] Why is it that the king is enabled to do these things? Obviously, because his people are poor and weak. If they were strong, he could not do them. Men, however, never have anywhere become strong to resist power, except where the artisan has come to the side of the farmer; and it is because he has not done so in Naples and Sicily that the people are so poor, ignorant, and weak as we see them to be. Has England ever endeavoured to strengthen the Neapolitan people by teaching them how to combine their efforts for the working of their rich ores, or for the conversion of their wool into cloth? Assuredly not. She desires that wool and sulphur, and all other raw materials, may be cheap, and that iron may be dear; and, that they may be so, she does all that is in her power to prevent the existence in that country of any of that diversification of interests that would find employment for men, women, and children, and would thus give value to labour and land. That she may do this, she retains Malta and the Ionian Islands, as convenient places of resort for the great reformer of the age--the smuggler--whose business it is to see that no effort at manufactures shall succeed, and to carry into practical effect the decree that all such attempts must be "smothered in their infancy." If, under these circumstances, King Ferdinand is enabled to play the tyrant, upon whom rests the blame? Assuredly, on the people who refuse to permit the farmers of the Two Sicilies to strengthen themselves by forming that natural alliance between the loom and the plough to which the people of England were themselves indebted for their liberties. Were the towns of that country growing in size, and were the artisan everywhere taking his place by the side of the farmer, the people would be daily becoming stronger and more free, whereas they are now becoming weaker and more enslaved. So, too, we are told of the tyranny and bad faith prevailing in Spain. If, however, the people of that country are poor and weak, and compelled to submit to measures that are tyrannical and injurious, may it not be traced to the fact that the mechanic has never been permitted to place himself among them? And may not the cause of this be found in the fact that Portugal and Gibraltar have for a century past been the seats of a vast contraband trade, having for _its express object_ to deprive the Spanish people of all power to do any thing but cultivate the soil? Who, then, are responsible for the subjection of the Spanish people? Those, assuredly, whose policy looks to depriving the women and children of Spain of all employment except in the field, in order that wool may be cheap and that cloth may be dear. Turkey is poor and weak, and we hear much of the designs of Russia, to be counteracted by England; but does England desire that Turkey shall grow strong and her people become free? Does she desire that manufactures shall rise, that towns shall grow, and that the land shall acquire value? Assuredly not. The right to inundate that country with merchandise is "a golden privilege" never to be abandoned, because it would raise the price of silk and lower the price of silk goods. The people of Austria and Hungary are weak, but has England ever tried to render them strong to obtain their freedom? Would she not now oppose any measures calculated to enable the Hungarians to obtain the means of converting their food and their wool into cloth--to obtain mechanics and machinery, by aid of which towns could grow, and their occupants become strong and free? To render any aid of that kind would be in opposition to the doctrine of cheap food and cheap labour. Northern Germany is becoming strong and united, and the day is now at hand when all Germany will have the same system under which the North has so much improved; but these things are done in opposition to England, who disapproves of them because they tend to raise the price of the raw products of the earth and lower that of manufactured ones, and to enable the agricultural population to grow rich and strong; and the more exclusively she depends on trade, the greater is her indisposition to permit the adoption of any measures tending to limit her power over the people of the world. The people of China are weak, but does the consumption of opium to the extent of forty millions of dollars a year tend to strengthen them? The government, too, is weak, and therefore is Hong Kong kept for the purpose of enabling "the great reformer" to evade the laws against the importation of a commodity that yields the East India Company a profit of sixteen millions of dollars a year, and the consumption of which is so rapidly increasing. Burmah, too, is weak, and therefore is her territory to be used for the purpose of extending the trade in opium throughout the interior provinces of China. Will this tend to strengthen, or to free, the Chinese people? Can the people of this country become parties to a system like this--one that looks to cheapening labour every where? Can they be parties to any system that can be maintained only on the condition of "an abundant and cheap supply of labour?" Or, can they be parties to an alliance that, wherever it is found, so far cheapens man as to render him a profitable article for the export trade? Who, then, are our natural allies? Russia, Prussia, and Denmark are despotisms, we are told. They are so; but yet so beautiful and so perfect is the harmony of interests under a natural system, that that which despots do in their own defence strengthens the people, and carries them on toward freedom. Denmark is a despotism, and yet her people are the freeest and most happy of any in Europe. It is time that we emancipated ourselves from "the tyranny of words"[210] under which we live, and looked to things. England has what is called a free government, and yet Ireland, the West Indies, and India have been prostrated under the despotism of the spindle and loom, while despotic Denmark protects her people against that tyranny, and thus enables her women and her children to find other employments than those of the field. The King of Prussia desires to strengthen himself against France, Austria, and Russia; and, to do this, he strengthens his people by enabling them to find employment for all their time, to find manure for their farms, and to find employment for their minds; and he strengthens Germany by the formation of a great Union, that gives to thirty millions of people the same advantage of freedom of internal trade that subsists among ourselves. The Emperor of Russia desires to strengthen himself, and he, in like manner, adopts measures leading to the building of towns, the diversification of labour, and the habit of association among men; and thus does he give value to land and labour. He is a despot, it is true, but he is doing what is required to give freedom to sixty millions of people; while all the measures of England in India tend to the enslavement of a hundred millions. We are told of his designs upon Turkey--but what have the _people_ of that country to lose by incorporation within the Russian Empire? Now, they are poor and enslaved, but were they once Russian the spindle would be brought to the wool, towns would cease to decline, labour and land would acquire value, and the people would begin to become free. It may be doubted if any thing would so much tend to advance the cause of freedom in Europe as the absorption of Turkey by Russia, for it would probably be followed by the adoption of measures that would secure perfect freedom of trade throughout all Middle and Eastern Europe, with large increase in the value of man. The real despotism is that which looks to cheapening labour, and the real road to freedom is that which looks toward raising the value of labour and land. The natural allies of this country are the agricultural nations of the world, for their interests and ours look in the same direction, while those of England look in one directly opposite. They and we need that the prices of all agricultural products should be high, and those of manufactured articles low, while England desires that the latter may be high and the former low. That they and we may be gratified, it is required that machinery shall take its place by the food and the wool; that towns shall arise, and that man shall everywhere become strong and free. That she may be gratified, it is required that the food and the wool shall go to the spindle and the loom; that men, women, and children shall be confined to the labours of the field, and that men shall remain poor, ignorant, and enslaved. The more Russia makes a market for her wheat, the higher will be its price, to the great advantage of the farmers of the world; and the more cotton and sugar she will require, and the higher will be their prices, to the great advantage of the planters of the world. The more Germany makes a market for her wool, the higher will be its price, and the cheaper will be cloth, and the more cotton and sugar she will need. The more we make a market for cotton, the better will it be for the people of India; and the more we consume our own grain, the better will it be for the farmers of Germany. Our interests and theirs are one and the same; but it is to the interest of the British manufacturer to have all the world competing with each other to sell in his one limited market, and the more competition he can create, the cheaper will be products of the plough, and the larger will be the profits of the loom. He wishes to buy cheaply the things we have to sell, and to sell dearly those we have to buy. We wish to sell dearly and buy cheaply, and as our objects are directly the reverse of his, it would be as imprudent for us to be advised by him, as it would be for the farmer to enter into a combination with the railroad for the purpose of keeping up the price of transportation. Russia and Germany, Denmark, Spain, and Belgium are engaged in resisting a great system of taxation, and they grow rich and strong, and therefore their people become from year to year more free. Portugal and India, Turkey and Ireland yield to the system, and they become from year to year poorer and weaker, and their people more enslaved. It is on the part of the former a war for peace, and fortunately it is a war that involves no expense for fleets and armies, and one under which both wealth and population grow with great rapidity--and one, therefore, in which we may, and must, unite, if we desire to see the termination of the slave trade at home or abroad. Russia and Germany, Denmark, Spain, and Belgium are engaged in an effort to raise the value of man _at home_, wherever that home may be, and thus to stop the forced export of men, whether black, brown, or white: England is engaged in an effort to destroy everywhere the value of man _at home_, and therefore it is that the slave trade flourishes in the countries that submit to her system. We desire to increase the value of man in Virginia, and thus to terminate the domestic slave trade. We desire that corn and cotton, rice, sugar, and tobacco may be high, and cloth and iron low; that labour may be largely paid, and that man may become free; and the less our dependence on the market of England, the sooner will our desires be gratified. * * * * * Are we then to adopt a system of measures tending to the injury of the people of England? By no means. Her _real_ interests and ours are the same, and by protecting ourselves against her system, we are benefiting her. The harmony of interests is so perfect, that nations _cannot_ be benefited by measures tending to the injury of other nations; and when they allow themselves to be led away by the belief that they can be so, they are always themselves the heaviest sufferers. The sooner that all the agricultural communities of the earth shall come to an understanding, that it is to their interest to withdraw from the present insane contest for the privilege of supplying a single and limited market, and determine to create markets for themselves, the sooner will the English labourer, land-owner, and capitalist find themselves restored to freedom. That the reader may understand this, we must look once more to Ireland. The closing of the demand for labour in that country drove the poor people to England in search of employment. "For half a century back"--that is, since the Union--"the western shores of our island," says a British journalist-- "Especially Lancashire and Glasgow have been flooded with crowds of half clad, half fed, half civilized Celts, many thousands of whom have settled permanently in our manufacturing towns, reducing wages by their competition, and what is worse, reducing the standard of living and comfort among our people by their example--spreading squalor and disease by their filthy habits--inciting to turbulence and discontent by their incorrigible hostility to law, incalculably increasing the burden of our poor rates--and swelling the registry of crime, both in police courts and assizes; to the great damage of the national character and reputation. The abundant supply of cheap labour which they furnished had no doubt the effect of enabling our manufacturing industry to increase at a rate and, to a height which, without them, would have been unattainable; and so far they have been of service."--_North British Review_, No. 35. The essential error of this passage is found in the supposition that any set of people or any species of industry, is to profit by the cheapening of labour and the enslavement of man. Nothing of this kind can take place. The true interests of all men are promoted by the elevation, and they all suffer by whatever tends to the depression, of their fellow-men. The master of slaves, whether wearing a crown or carrying a whip, is himself a slave; and that such is the case with nations as well as individuals, the reader may perhaps be satisfied if he will follow out the working of the British system as here described by the reviewer. For half a century Irish labour has been, as we are here told, poured into England, producing a glut in the market, and lowering not only the wages, but also the standard of comfort among English labourers. This is quite true; but why did these men come? Because labour was cheaper in Ireland than in England. Why was it so? Because, just half a century since, it was provided by the Act of Union that the women and children of Ireland should either remain idle or work in the field. Prior to the centralization by that act of all power in the British Parliament, the people of that country had been vigorously engaged in the effort to produce competition for the purchase of labour _at home_; and had they been permitted to continue on in that direction, it would have risen to a level with English labour, and then it could not have been profitably exported. This, however, they were not permitted to do. Their furnaces and factories were closed, and the people who worked in them were driven to England to seek their bread, and wages fell, because the price of all commodities, labour included, tends to a level, and whatever reduces them anywhere tends to reduce them everywhere. The price of English labour fell because the Act of Union had diminished the value of that of Ireland. If we desire to know to what extent it had this effect, we must look to the consequences of an over-supply of _perishable_ articles. Of all commodities, labour is _the most perishable_, because it must be sold on the instant or it is wasted, and if wasted, the man who has it to sell may perish himself. Now we know that an over-supply of even iron, equal to ten per cent., will reduce prices thirty, forty, or fifty per cent., and that an excess of a single hundred thousand bales in the crop of cotton makes a difference of ten per cent. upon three millions of bales, whereas a diminution to the same extent will make a difference of ten per cent. in the opposite direction. Still more is this the case with oranges and peaches, which must be sold at once or wasted. With an excess in the supply of either, they are often abandoned as not worth the cost of gathering and carrying to market. A small excess in the supply of men, women, and children so far reduces their value in the eyes of the purchaser of labour, that he finds himself, as now in England, induced to regard it as a mercy of Heaven when famine, pestilence, and emigration clear them out of his way; and he is then disposed to think that the process "cannot be carried too far nor continued too long." Irish labour, having been cheapened by the provisions of the Act of Union, was carried to the market of England for sale, and thus was produced _a glut of the most perishable of all commodities_; and the effect of that glut must have been a diminution in the general price of labour in England that far more than compensated for the increased number of labourers. Admitting, however, that the diminution was no more than would be so compensated, it would follow, of course, that the quantity of wages paid after a year's immigration was the same that it had previously been. That it was not, and could not have been so great, is quite certain; but it is not needed to claim more than that there was no increase. It follows, necessarily, that while the quantity of wages to be expended in England against food and clothing remained the same, the number of persons among whom it was to be divided had increased, and each had less to expend. This of course diminished the power to purchase food, and to a much greater degree diminished the demand for clothing, for the claims of the stomach are, of all others, the most imperious. The reader will now see that the chief effect thus produced by cheap labour is a reduction in the domestic demand for manufactured goods. As yet, however, we are only at the commencement of the operation. The men who had been driven from Ireland by the closing of Irish factories, had been consumers of food,[211] but as they could no longer consume at home, it became now necessary that that food should follow them to England, and the necessity for this transportation tended largely to diminish the prices of all food in Ireland, and of course the value of labour and land. Each new depression in the price of labour tended to swell the export of men, and the larger that export the greater became, of course, the necessity for seeking abroad a market for food. Irish food came to swell the supply, but the English market for it did not grow, because the greater the glut of men, the smaller became the sum of wages to be laid out against food; and thus Irish and English food were now contending against each other, to the injury, of English and Irish labour and land. The lower the price of food in England, the less was the inducement to improve the land, and the less the demand for labour the less the power to buy even food, while the power to pay for clothing diminished with tenfold rapidity. With each step in this direction the labourer lost more and more the control over his own actions, and became more and more enslaved. The decline in the home demand for manufactures then produced a necessity for seeking new markets, for underworking the Hindoo, and for further cheapening labour; and the more labour was cheapened the less became the demand for, and the return to capital. Land, labour, and capital thus suffered alike from the adoption of a policy having for its object to prevent the people of Ireland from mining coal, making iron, or availing themselves of the gratuitous services of those powerful agents so abundantly provided by nature for their use. The reader may, perhaps, appreciate more fully the evil effects of this course upon an examination of the reverse side of the picture. Let us suppose that the Irishman could at once be raised from being the slave of the landholder to becoming a freeman, exercising control over the application of his labour, and freely discussing with his employer what should be his reward,--and see what would be the effect. It would at once establish counter-attraction, and instead of a constant influx of people _from_ Ireland into England, there would be a constant afflux _to_ that country, and in a little time the whole mass of Irish labour that now weighs on the English market would be withdrawn, and wages would rise rapidly. At the cost of the landholder, it will be said. On the contrary, to his profit. The Irishman at home, fully employed, would consume thrice the food he can now obtain, and Irish food would at once cease to press on the English market, and the price of English food would rise. This, of course, would offer new inducements to improve the land, and, this would make a demand for labour and capital, the price of both of which would rise. These things, however, it will be said, would be done at the cost of the manufacturer. On the contrary, to his advantage Ireland now consumes but little of English manufactures. "No one," says the Quarterly Review, "ever saw an English scarecrow with such rags" as are worn by hundreds of thousands of the people of Ireland. Raise the value of Irishmen at home, make them free, and the Irish market will soon require more manufactured goods than now go to all India. Raise the value of man in Great Britain, and the domestic market will absorb an amount of commodities that would now be deemed perfectly incredible. How can this be done for Ireland? By the same process under which the man of Germany, Russia, Denmark, and Spain is now passing gradually toward freedom. By providing that she shall be _protected_ in her efforts to bring the consumer to the side of the producer, and thus be enabled to provide at home demand for all her labour and all her food, and for all the capital now deemed surplus that weighs on the market of England. It will, however, be said that this would deprive the English manufacturer of the market he now has in that country. It would not. He would sell more in value, although it would certainly be less in bulk. If Ireland spun her own yarn and made her own coarse cloths, she would need to buy fine ones. If she made her woollen cloth she could afford to buy silks. If she made her own pig-iron she would have occasion to purchase steam-engines. If she mined her own coal she would require books; and the more her own labourer was elevated in the scale of material comfort, and moral and intellectual improvement, the larger would be her demands on her neighbours for those commodities requiring for their production the exercise of mind, to their advantage as well as her own. The error in the whole British system is, that it looks to preventing everywhere local association and local commerce; and this it does because it seeks to locate in England the workshop of the world. The natural effect of this is a desire to compel all nations to transport their products to market in their rudest form, at greatest cost to themselves, and greatest exhaustion of their land; and the poorer they become, the greater are her efforts at competing with them in the rudest manufactures, to the great injury of her own people. The man who is constantly competing with men below himself, will be sure eventually to fall to their level; whereas, he who looks upward and determines upon competition with those who are above him, will be very likely to rise to their level. If all the world were engaged in perfecting their products, the standard of man would be everywhere rising, and the power to purchase would grow everywhere, with rapid increase in the amount of both internal and external commerce, but the commodities, exchanged would be of a higher character--such as would require for their preparation a higher degree of intellect. At present, all the nations outside of England are to be stimulated to the adoption of a system that affords to their men, women, and children no employment but that of the rude operations of the field, while those in England are to be kept at work mining coal, making pig metal; and converting cotton into yarn; and thus the tendency of the system is toward driving the whole people of the world into pursuits requiring little more than mere brute labour, and the lowest grade of intellect, to the destruction of commerce, both internal and external. The more this is carried into effect the more must the people of England and the world become brutalized and enslaved, and the greater must be the spread of intemperance and immorality. To this, Ireland, India, and all other countries that find themselves forced to press their products on the English market, are largely contributing, and the only people that are doing any thing for its correction are those who are labouring to make a market at home for their products, and thus diminish the competition for their sale in the English market. Were Germany and Russia now to abolish protection, the direct effect would be to throw upon England an immense amount of food they now consume at home, and thus diminish the price to such an extent as to render it impracticable to apply labour to the improvement of English land. This would of course diminish the wages of English labour, and diminish the power of the labourers to purchase manufactured goods, and the diminution thus produced in the domestic demand would be twice as great as the increase obtained abroad. It is time that the people of England should learn that the laws which govern the community of nations are precisely the same as those which govern communities of individuals, and that neither nations nor individuals can benefit permanently by any measures tending to the injury of their neighbours. The case of Ireland is one of oppression more grievous than is to be found elsewhere in the records of history; and oppression has brought its punishment in the enslavement of the English labourer, land-owner, and capitalist. The first has small wages, the second small rents, and the third small profits, while the intermediate people, bankers, lawyers, and agents, grow rich. The remedy for much of this would be found in the adoption of measures that would raise the value of labour, capital, and land, in Ireland, and thus permit the two former to remain at home, to give value to the last. The evil under which the people of England labour is that they are borne down under the weight of raw produce forced into their market, and the competition for its sale. This, in turn, reacts upon the world--as prices in that market fix the prices of all other markets. What is now needed is to raise _there_ the price of labour and its products, as would at once be done were it possible for all the agricultural nations to become so much masters of their own actions as to be able to say that from this time forward they would have such a demand at home as would free them from the slavery incident to a _necessity_ for going to that market. Could that now be said, the instant effect would be so to raise the price of food as to make a demand for labour and capital in England that would double the price of both, as will be seen on an examination of the following facts. The United Kingdom contains seventy millions of acres, and an average expenditure of only three days labour per acre, at 12s. per week, would amount to twenty-one millions of pounds, or half as much as the whole capital engaged in the cotton trade. No one who studies the reports on the agriculture of the British islands can doubt that even a larger quantity might annually, and most profitably, be employed on the land; and when we reflect that this would be repeated year after year, it will be seen how large a market would thus be made for both labour and capital. The rise of wages would put an end to the export of men from either England or Ireland, and the increase in the home demand for manufactures would be great. It may be said that the rise in the price of food would give large rents, without improvement in the land, and that the profit of this change would go to the land-owner. In all other trades, however, high wages _compel_ improvements of machinery, and it is only when they are low that men can profitably work old machines. Were the wages of England this day doubled, it would be found that they would eat up the whole proceeds of all badly farmed land, leaving no rent, and then the owners of such land would find themselves as much obliged to improve their machinery of production as are the mill-owners of Manchester. If they could not improve the whole, they would find themselves compelled to sell a part; and thus dear labour would produce division of the land and emancipation of the labourer, as cheap labour has produced the consolidation of the one and the slavery of the other. To enable Russia and Germany to refrain from pressing their products on the market that now regulates and depresses prices, it would be required that they should have great numbers of mills and furnaces, at which their now surplus food could be consumed, and their effect would be to create among them a new demand for labour with rise of wages, a better market for food to the benefit of the farmer, a better market for capital, and a greatly increased power to improve the land and to make roads and build schools. This would, of course, make demand for cotton, to the benefit of the cotton-grower, while improved prices for food would benefit the farmer everywhere. Maryland, Virginia, and the Carolinas, too, would then have their factories, at which food and cotton would be converted into cloth, and the value of man in those States would rise to a level with that of Mississippi and Alabama--and our domestic slave trade would be brought to an end by precisely the same measures that would relieve England, Ireland, and Scotland from any _necessity_ for exporting men to distant regions of the earth. Nothing of this kind could at once be done; but Russia, Germany, and other countries of Europe are now, under protection, doing much toward it; and it is in the power of the people of this country to contribute largely toward bringing about such a state of things. Much was being done under the tariff of 1842, but it is being undone under the act of 1846. The former tended to _raise_ the value of man at home, and hence it was that under it the domestic slave trade so much diminished. The latter tends to _diminish_ the value of man at home, and hence it is that under it that trade so rapidly increases. The former tended to diminish the quantity of food to be forced on the market of England, to the deterioration of the value of English labour and land. The latter tends to increase the quantity for which a market must be sought abroad; and whatever tends to force food into that country tends to lessen the value of its people, and to produce their _forced export_ to other countries. As yet, however, we have arrived only at the commencement of the working of the "free trade" system. We are now where we were in 1836, when the making of railroads by aid of large purchases, _on credit_, of cloth and iron, stimulated the consumption of food and diminished the labour applied to its production. After the next revulsion, now perhaps not far distant, the supply of food will be large, and then it will be that the low prices of 1841-2, for both food and labour, will be repeated. In considering what is the duty of this country, every man should reflect that whatever tends to increase the quantity of raw produce forced on the market of England, tends to the cheapening of labour and land everywhere, to the perpetuation of slavery, and to the extension of its domain--and that whatever tends to the withdrawal of such produce from that market tends to raising the value of land and labour everywhere, to the extinction of slavery, and to the elevation of man. The system commonly called free trade tends to produce the former results; and where man is enslaved there can be no real freedom of trade. That one which looks to protection against this extraordinary system of taxation, tends to enable men to determine for themselves whether they will make their exchanges abroad or at home; and it is in this power of choice that consists the freedom of trade and of man. By adopting the "free trade," or British, system we place ourselves side by side with the men who have ruined Ireland and India, and are now poisoning and enslaving the Chinese people. By adopting the other, we place ourselves by the side of those whose measures tend not only to the improvement of their own subjects, but to the emancipation of the slave everywhere, whether in the British Islands, India, Italy, or America. It will be said, however, that protection tends to destroy commerce, the civilizer of mankind. Directly the reverse, however, is the fact. It is the system now called free trade that tends to the destruction of commerce, as is shown wherever it obtains. Protection looks only to resisting a great scheme of foreign taxation that everywhere limits the power of man to combine his efforts with those of his neighbour man for the increase of his production, the improvement of his mind, and the enlargement of his desires for, and his power to procure, the commodities produced among the different nations of the world. The commerce of India does not grow, nor does that of Portugal, or of Turkey; but that of the protected, countries does increase, as has been shown in the case of Spain, and can now be shown in that of Germany. In 1834, before the formation of the _Zoll-Verein_, Germany took from Great Britain, of her own produce and manufactures, only........ £4,429,727 Whereas in 1852 she took......................... £7,694,059 And as regards this country, in which protection has always to some extent existed, it is the best customer that England ever had, and our demands upon her grow most steadily and regularly under protection, because the greater our power to make coarse goods, the greater are those desires which lead to the purchase of fine ones, and the greater our ability to gratify them. Whatever tends to increase the power of man to associate with his neighbour man, tends to promote the growth of commerce, and to produce that material, moral, and intellectual improvement which leads to freedom. To enable men to exercise that power is the object of protection. The men of this country, therefore, who desire that all men, black, white, and brown, shall at the earliest period enjoy perfect freedom of thought, speech, action, and trade, will find, on full consideration, that duty to themselves and to their fellow-men requires that they should advocate efficient protection, as the true and only mode of abolishing the domestic trade in slaves, whether black or white. * * * * * It will, perhaps, be said that even although the slave trade were abolished, slavery would still continue to exist, and that the great object of the anti-slavery movement would remain unaccomplished. One step, at all events, and a great one, would have been made. To render men _adscripti glebæ_, thus attaching them to the soil, has been in many countries, as has so recently been the case in Russia, one of the movements toward emancipation; and if this could be here effected by simple force of attraction, and without the aid of law, it would be profitable to all, both masters and slaves; because whatever tends to attract population tends inevitably to increase the value of land, and thus to enrich its owner. There, however, it could not stop, as the reader will readily see. Cheap food enables the farmer of Virginia to raise cheap labour for the slave market. Raise the price of food, and the profit of that species of manufacture would diminish. Raise it still higher, and the profit would disappear; and then would the master of slaves find it necessary to devolve upon the parent the making of the _sacrifice_ required for the raising of children, and thus to enable him to bring into activity all the best feelings of the heart. Cheap food and slavery go together; and if we desire to free ourselves from the last, we must commence by ridding ourselves of the first. Food is cheap in Virginia, because the market for it is distant, and most of its value there is swallowed up in the cost of transportation. Bring the consumer close to the door of the farmer, and it will be worth as much there as it now commands in the distant market. Make a demand everywhere around him for all the food that is raised, and its value will everywhere rise, for then we shall cease to press upon the limited market of England, which fixes the price of our crop, and is now borne down by the surplus products of Germany and Russia, Canada and ourselves; and the price will then be higher in the remote parts of Virginia than can now be obtained for it in the distant market of England. It will then become quite impossible for the farmer profitably to feed his corn to slaves. With the rise in the price of food the land would quadruple in value, and that value would continue to increase as the artisan more and more took his place by the side of the producer of food and wool, and as towns increased in number and in size; and with each step in this direction the master would attach less importance to the ownership of slaves; while the slave would attach more importance to freedom. With both, the state of feeling would, improve; and the more the negro was improved the more his master would be disposed to think of slavery, as was thought of old by Jefferson and Madison, that it was an evil that required to be abated; and the more rapid the growth of wealth, the greater the improvement in the value of land, the more rapid would be the approach of freedom to all, the master and the slave. It will be said, however, that if food should so much increase in value as to render it desirable for Virginia to retain the whole growth of her population, black and white, the necessary effect would, be a great rise in the price of cotton, and a great increase in the wealth of the planters further South, who would be desirous to have negroes, even at greatly increased prices. That the price of cotton would rise is quite certain. Nothing keeps it down but the low price of food, which forces out the negroes of the Northern States, and thus, maintains the domestic slave trade; and there is no reason to doubt that not only would there be a large increase in its price, but that the power to pay for it would increase with equal rapidity. More negro labour would then certainly be needed, and then would exist precisely the state of things that leads inevitably to freedom. When two masters seek one labourer, the latter becomes free; but when two labourers seek one master, the former become enslaved. The increased value of negro labour would render it necessary for the owners of negroes to endeavour to stimulate the labourer to exertion, and this could be done only by the payment of wages for over-work, as is even now done to a great extent. At present, the labour of the slave is in a high degree unproductive, as will be seen by the following passage from a letter to the New York _Daily Times_, giving the result of information derived from a gentleman of Petersburgh, Virginia, said to be "remarkable for accuracy and preciseness of his information:"-- "He tells me," says the writer, "he once very carefully observed how mush labour was expended in securing a crop of very thin wheat, and found that it took four negroes one day to cradle, rake, and bind one acre. (That is, this was the rate at which the field was harvested.) In the wheat-growing districts of Western New York, four men would be expected to do five acres of a similar crop. "Mr. Griscom further states, as his opinion, that four negroes do not, in the ordinary agricultural operations of this State, accomplish as much as one labourer in New Jersey. Upon my expressing my astonishment, he repeated it as his deliberately formed opinion. "I have since again called on Mr. Griscom, and obtained permission to give his name with the above statement. He also wishes me to add, that the ordinary waste in harvesting, by the carelessness of the negroes, above that which occurs in the hands of Northern labourers, is large enough to equal what a Northern farmer would consider a satisfactory profit on the crop." To bring into activity all this vast amount of labour now wasted, it is needed to raise the _cost of man_, by raising the price of food; and that is to be done by bringing the farmer's market to his door, and thus giving value to labour and land. Let the people of Maryland and Virginia, Carolina, Kentucky, and Tennessee be enabled to bring into activity their vast treasures of coal and iron ore, and to render useful their immense water-powers--free the masters from their present dependence on distant markets, in which they _must_ sell all they produce, and _must_ buy all they consume--and the negro slave becomes free, by virtue of the same great law that in past times has freed the serf of England, and is now freeing the serf of Russia. In all countries of the world man has become free as land has acquired value, and as its owners have been enriched; and in all man has become enslaved as land has lost its value, and its owners have been impoverished.[212] CHAPTER XXI. OF THE DUTY OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. The English politico-economical system denounced by Adam Smith had not failed before the close of the last century to be productive of results in the highest degree unfavourable to man; and to account for them it became necessary to discover that they were the inevitable result of certain great natural laws; and to this necessity it was that the world was indebted for the Ricardo-Malthusian system, which may be briefly stated in the following propositions:-- First: That in the commencement of cultivation, when population is small and land consequently abundant, the best soils--those capable of yielding the largest return, say one hundred quarters to a given quantity of labour--alone are cultivated. Second: That with the progress of population, the fertile lands are all occupied, and there arises a necessity for cultivating those yielding a smaller return; and that resort is then had to a second, and afterward to a third and a fourth class of soils, yielding respectively ninety, eighty, and seventy quarters to the same quantity of labour. Third: That with the necessity for applying labour less productively, which thus accompanies the growth of population, rent arises: the owner of land No. 1 being enabled to demand and to obtain, in return for its use, ten quarters when resort is had to that of second quality; twenty when No. 3 is brought into use, and thirty when it becomes necessary to cultivate No. 4. Fourth: That the _proportion_ of the landlord tends thus steadily to increase as the productiveness of labour decreases, the division being as follows, to wit:-- Total At the: Product Labour Rent ------- ------- ------ ---- first period, when No. 1 alone is cultivated.. 100 100 00 second period " No. 1 and 2 are cultivated. 190 180 10 third period " No. 1, 2, and 3 ".. 270 240 30 fourth period " No. 1, 2, 3 and 4 ".. 340 280 60 fifth period " No. 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 ".. 400 300 100 sixth period " No. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6".. 450 300 150 seventh period " No. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ".. 490 280 210 and that there is thus a tendency to the ultimate absorption of the whole produce by the owner of the land, and to a steadily increasing inequality of condition; the power of the labourer to consume the commodities which he produces steadily diminishing, while that of the land-owner to claim them, as rent, is steadily increasing. Fifth: That this tendency toward a diminution in the return of labour, and toward an increase of the landlord's proportion, always exists where population increases, and most exists where population increases most rapidly; but is in a certain degree counteracted by increase of wealth, producing improvement of cultivation. Sixth: That every such improvement tends to retard the growth of rents, while every obstacle to improvement tends to increase that growth: and that, therefore, the interests of the land-owner and labourer are always opposed to each other, rents rising as labour falls, and _vice-versa_. A brief examination of these propositions will satisfy the reader that they tend inevitably to the centralization of all power in the hands of the few at the cost of the many, who are thus reduced to the condition of slaves, mere hewers of wood and drawers of water for their masters, as will now be shown. I. In the commencement of cultivation labour is largely productive, and the labourer takes for himself the whole of his product, paying no rent. II. With the increase of population, and the increased power to associate, labour becomes less productive, and the labourer is required to give a part of the diminished product to the land-owner, who thus grows rich at his expense. III. With further growth of population land acquires further value, and that value increases with every increase of the _necessity_ for applying labour less productively; and the less the product, the larger becomes the proportion of the proprietor, whose wealth and power increase precisely as the labourer becomes poorer and less able to defend his rights, or, in other words, as he becomes enslaved. This state of things leads of course to the expulsion of poor men, to seek at a distance those rich soils which, according to the theory, are the first cultivated. The more they are expelled, the greater must of course be the consolidation of the land, the larger the income of the few great farmers and land-owners, and the poorer the labourers. Hence universal discord, such as is seen in England, and has recently been so well described by the _Times_.[213] The poorer the people, the greater must be the necessity for emigration; and the greater the anxiety of the landed or other capitalist for their expulsion, because they are thus relieved from the necessity for supporting them; and the greater the rejoicing of the trader, because he supposes they go from the cultivation of poor to that of rich soils. Here we have dispersion, the opposite of that association to which man has everywhere been indebted for his wealth; for the development of his moral and intellectual faculties, and for his freedom. The soils left behind being supposed to be the poor ones, and those first appropriated abroad being supposed to be the rich ones, it is next held that all the people who go abroad, should do nothing but cultivate the land, sending their corn and their wool to a distance of thousands of miles in search of the little spindle and the loom; and thus does the Ricardo system lead to the adoption of a policy directly the reverse of that taught by Adam Smith. The necessary effect of this is the discouragement of English agriculture, and the closing of the market for English capital; and the smaller the market for it at home the less must be the demand for labour, and the greater must be the tendency of the labourer to become the mere slave of those who do employ capital. This of course produces further expulsion of both labour and capital; and the more they go abroad, the less, as a matter of course, is the power of the community that is left behind: and thus the Ricardo-Malthusian system tends necessarily to the diminution of the importance of the nation in the eyes of the world. That system teaches that God in his infinite wisdom has given to matter in the form of man a reproductive power greater than he has given to the source from which that matter is derived, the earth itself; and that, with a view to the correction of that error, man must close his ear and his heart to the tale of suffering--must forget that great law of Christ, "Do unto others as ye would that others should do unto you,"--must persuade himself that it is "to his advantage" that the negro slave "shall wear his chains in peace,"--and must always recollect that if men _will_ marry; and have children, and he "stands between the error and its consequence," granting relief to the poor or the sick in their distress, except so far as to prevent "positive death," he "perpetuates the sin." This is the science of repulsion, despair, and death; and it has been well denominated "the dismal science." It is taught in many of the schools of Europe, but England alone has made it the basis of a system of policy; and the result is seen in the fact that throughout all that portion of the world subject to her influence, we see nothing but repulsion, slavery, despair, and death, with steadily increasing weakness of the communities in the general system of the world, as witness Ireland and India, from, which men are flying as from pestilence--the West Indies, Portugal, and Turkey, in all of which population declines, and the communities themselves seem likely soon to perish of inanition.[214] From every country that is strong enough to protect itself, she is being gradually shut out; and in every one that is strong enough to carry into effect the exclusion, we see a steady increase of the power and the habit of association, and of the strength of the nation. The little German Union of 1827 led to the great one of 1835; and at this moment we have advices of the completion of the still greater one that is to give freedom of internal trade to sixty millions of people, and that is to do for all Germany what the _Zoll-Verein_ has done for its northern portion. The habit of peace and of combined action thus grows in all the countries of the world which protect themselves, while repulsion and discord increase in every one that is unprotected. In one we see a daily tendency toward freedom, while in the other slavery grows from day to day. It is the complaint of England that, much as she has done for other countries, she receives no kindness in return. She stands at this day without a friend; and this is not so much the fault of any error of intention as of error of doctrine. Many of those who have directed her affairs have been men of generous impulses--men who would scorn to do what they thought to be wrong--but they have, been led away by a system that teaches the rankest selfishness. The Creator of man provided for his use great natural agents, the command of which was to be obtained as the reward of the cultivation of his intellectual powers; and that he might obtain leisure for their improvement, great stores of fuel were accumulated, and iron ore was furnished in unlimited quantity, to enable him, by combining the two, to obtain machinery to aid him in the cultivation of the soil and the conversion of its products. England, however, desires to restrict the use of those great natural agents; and whenever or wherever other nations undertake to call them to their aid, she is seen using every effort in her power to annihilate competition, and thus maintain her monopoly. Of this, the recent proceedings in relation to steam intercourse between this country and Europe present a striking instance; but the maintenance of numerous colonies, avowedly for the purpose of "stifling in its infancy" every effort on the part of other nations to obtain power to convert their coal and their ore into iron, or to convert their iron into machinery that would enable them to command the aid of steam, and thus lighten the labours of their people, while increasing the efficiency of their exertions, is a thing not only not disavowed, but gloried in by her most eminent and enlightened men. The exceeding selfishness of this effort to retain a monopoly of those great natural agents should, of itself, afford proof conclusive to every Englishman that the system that is to be so maintained could not be right; and it would do so, were it not that their system of political economy teaches that every man must live by "snatching the bread from his neighbour's mouth" that the land-owner grows rich at the expense of the labourer; that profits rise only at the cost of wages, and wages only at the cost of profits; and, therefore, that the only way to ensure a fair rate for the use of capital is to keep the price of labour down. This system is to be carried out by producing "unlimited competition" and in what is it to exist? In the sale of labour; and the greater that competition, the greater will be the profits of the capitalist, and the lower will be the wages of the labourer. The more the competition for the sale of cotton, the cheaper will be the labourer who produces it; and the more perfect the monopoly of machinery, the cheaper must be the labourer who performs the work of spinning the wool and weaving the cloth, but the larger will be the share of the man who owns the spindles and the looms. The fewer the spindles and looms of the world, the cheaper will be cotton and the dearer will be cloth, and the greater the profits of what is called capital; but the less will be the value of the stock in that great bank from which all capital is derived--the earth; and the poorer and more enslaved must be all those who have shares in it, and all who desire to obtain loans from it--the land-owners and the labourers. Such being the tendencies of the system, need we wonder, that it produces repulsion abroad, or that England is now so entirely without friends that in this age of the world--one that should be so enlightened--she talks of increased armaments with a view to defending herself from invasion, and calls on other nations for help? Certainly not. Were it otherwise, it would be wonderful. She is expelling her whole people from the land, and the more they go, the more she is rejoiced. "Extensive as has been the emigration from Ireland which has already taken place, there is," we are told-- "A remarkable proof that it has not been carried too far. There is still no regular demand for labour in the West of Ireland, and wages are still at the low starvation rate which prevailed before the famine."--_Economist_, (London,) Feb. 12, 1853. Again, we are told that "The departure of the redundant population of the Highlands of Scotland is an indispensable preliminary to every kind of improvement."--_Ibid_. Further, we are informed that the emigration from England, Wales, and the Lowlands of Scotland has "almost entirely consisted of able-bodied agricultural labourers," and that few or none of the manufacturing population have emigrated, except "a few Spitalfields and Paisley hand-loom weavers."[215] The loss of all these agriculturists, and the rapid conversion of the whole people of the kingdom into mere buyers and sellers of the products of other nations, is regarded as not only not to be regretted, but as a thing to be rejoiced at; and another influential journal assures its readers that the "mere anticipation" of any deficiency in the export of man from the kingdom "would lead to the most disastrous suspension of industry and enterprise," and that "the emigration must not only continue, but it must be maintained with all possible steadiness and activity."[216] Little effort would seem to be required to bring about the abandonment of England, as well as of Ireland. Of the latter the latest journals furnish accounts of which the following is a fair specimen:-- "The people are fast passing away from the land in the West of Ireland. The landlords of Connaught are tacitly combined to weed out all the smaller occupiers, against whom a regular systematic war of extermination is being waged. * * * The most heart-rending cruelties are daily practised in this province, of which the public are not at all aware."--_Galway Mercury_. In the former, we are told that "The wheel of 'improvement' is now seizing another class, the most stationary class in England. A startling emigration movement has sprung up among the smaller English farmers, especially those holding heavy clay soils, who, with bad prospects for the coming harvest, and in want of sufficient capital to make the great improvements on their farms which would enable them to pay their old rents, have no other alternative but to cross the sea in search of a new country and of new lands. I am not speaking now of the emigration caused by the gold mania, but only of the compulsory emigration produced by landlordism, concentration of farms, application of machinery to the soil, and introduction of the modern system of agriculture on a great scale."--_Correspondence of the New York Tribune_. Nevertheless, wages do not rise. Hundreds of thousands, and even millions, of the poor people of the kingdom have now been expelled, and yet there is "no regular demand for labour," and wages continue as low as ever. That such should be the case is not extraordinary, but it will be so if this diminution of the power of association do not result in lowering the reward of labour, and accelerating the dispersion of the labourers. Every man that goes was a producer of something, to be given in exchange for another thing that he required, that was produced by others; and from the moment of his departure he ceases to be a producer, with correspondent diminution in the demand for the cloth, the iron, or the salt produced by his neighbours. The less the competition for purchase the more becomes the competition for sale, and the lower must be the compensation of the labourer. A recent journal informs us that the condition of one class of operatives, the salt-boilers, has "gradually become most deplorable." "Their wages at present do not average 15s. a week, because they are not employed full time; 2s. 6d. a day is the highest price given, and one of these days consists of fourteen or sixteen hours. In addition to this, some of the employers have latterly introduced a new mode of diminishing the actual payment in wages. As has already been stated, the salt-pans in the course of a few days require cleansing from the impurities and dross thrown down with the process of boiling. The accumulation may vary from one-eighth of an inch to one foot, according to the quality of the brine. Therefore, every fortnight the fires are let out and the pans picked and cleaned, a process which occupies a full day; and this unavoidable and necessary work it is becoming the fashion to require the men to perform without any remuneration whatever; or, in other words, to demand one month's work out of the twelve from them without giving any wages in return!"--_Dawson's Merchants' Magazine_, February, 1853, 98. The more steady and active the emigration of the agricultural labourers, and the larger the remainder of factory operatives, the greater must be the necessity for depending on other countries for supplies, and the less must be the power of the nation in the community of nations, the richer must grow the great manufacturer, and the poorer must become the labourer; and, as this system is now being so vigorously carried out, the cause of weakness may readily be understood. It is a natural consequence of the purely selfish policy to which the Ricardo-Malthusian doctrines inevitably lead. Can such a system be a natural one? Is it possible that an all-wise, all-powerful, and all-merciful Being, having constructed this world for the occupation of man, should have inflicted upon it such a curse as is found in a system of laws the study of which leads to the conclusion that men can live only "by snatching the bread out of the mouths" of their fellow-men? Assuredly not. What, then, _are_ the laws under which man "lives and moves and has his being?" To obtain an answer to this question, we must go back to the proposition which lies at the base of the British system--that which teaches that men begin the work of cultivation with the rich soils of the earth, and are afterward compelled to resort to inferior ones the most important one in political economy; so important, says Mr. J. S. Mill, that were it otherwise, "almost all the phenomena of the production and distribution of wealth would be other than they are." Admitting, now, that the law _were_ different, and that instead of commencing on the rich soils and then passing toward the poor ones, they commenced on the poor soils of the hills and gradually made their way down to the rich ones of the swamps and river-bottoms, would not one of the differences referred to by Mr. Mill consist in this, that whereas the old theory tended to establish a constant increase in the _necessities_ of man, with constant deterioration, of his condition and growing inequality among men, the new one would tend to establish a constant increase of his _powers_, with constant improvement of condition and growing equality among men, wherever the laws of God were permitted to control their operations? Again, might not another of those differences consist in the establishment of the facts that instead of there having been a mistake on the part of the Creator, there had been a serious one on that of the economists, in attributing to those little scraps of the earth that man forms into wagons, ships, and steam-engines, and which he calls capital, an importance greater than is assigned to the earth of which they are so trivial a portion; and that the latter was the real bank, the source of all capital, from which he can have loans to an extent almost unlimited, provided he recollects that they _are_ loans, and not gifts, and that his credit with this banker, as well as with all others, cannot be maintained without a punctual repayment of the matter borrowed when he has ceased to need it? Further, as the old theory furnishes propositions to, which the exceptions are seen to be so numerous that every new writer finds himself compelled to modify it in some manner with a view to cover those exceptions, might not another, of the differences consist in its furnishing laws as universally true as are those of Copernicus, Kepler, or Newton--laws that gave proof of their truth by being everywhere in harmony with each other, and productive everywhere of harmony; and would not the following form a part of them?-- I. That the poor and solitary man commences everywhere with poor machinery, and that everywhere, as population and wealth increase, he obtains better machinery, and production is increased. The first poor settler has no cup, and he takes up water in his hand. He has no hogs or cattle to yield him oil, and he is compelled to depend on pine-knots for artificial light. He has no axe, and he cannot fell a tree, either to supply himself with fuel or to clear his land. He has no saw, and he is compelled to seek shelter under a rock, because he is unable to build himself a house. He has no spade, and he is compelled to cultivate land that is too poor to need clearing, and too dry to require drainage. He has no horse, and is obliged to carry his little crop of grain on his shoulders. He has no mill, and is compelled to pound his grain between stones, or to eat it unground, as did the Romans for so many centuries. With the growth of wealth and population he obtains machinery that enables him to _command_ the services of the various natural agents by which he is surrounded; and he now obtains more water, more light, more heat, and more power at less cost of labour; and he cultivates rich lands that yield food more largely, while he transports its products, by means of a wagon or a railroad car, converts it into flour by aid of steam, and exchanges it readily with, the man who converts his food and his wool into cloth, or food and ore into iron,--and thus passes from poor to better machinery of production, transportation, and exchange, with increasing reward of labour, and diminishing value of all the products of labour. II. That the poor settler gives a large _proportion_ of the produce of his labour for the use of poor machinery of production, transportation, and exchange; but the produce being small, the _quantity_ of rent then paid is very small. He is a slave to the owner of landed or other capital. III. That with the increased productiveness of labour there is increased facility for the reproduction of machinery required for the production of water, light, fuel, and food; and that this diminution in the cost _of reproduction_ is attended with a constant diminution in the value of all such machinery previously accumulated, and diminution in the proportion of the product of labour that can be demanded as rent for their use; and thus, while labour steadily increases in its power to yield commodities of every kind required by man, capital as steadily diminishes in its power over the labourer. Present labour obtains a constantly increasing proportion of a constantly increasing quantity, while the claims of the accumulations of past labour (capital) are rewarded with an increasing quantity, but rapidly diminishing proportion; and that there is thus, with the growth of population and wealth, a daily tendency toward improvement and equality of condition. IV. That increase in the _quantity_ of the landlord or other capitalist is evidence of increase in the labourer's _proportion_, and of large increase of his quantity, with constantly increasing tendency toward freedom of thought, speech, action, and trade, and that it is precisely as land acquires value that man becomes free. Here is a system, all the parts of which are in perfect harmony with each other, and all tending to the production of harmony among the various portions of society, and the different nations of the earth. Under them, we see men beginning on the higher and poorer lands and gradually coming together in the valleys, with steady tendency to increase in the power of association, and in the power to assert the right Of perfect self-government. It is thus the system of freedom. Population enables men to cultivate the richer soils, and food tends to increase more rapidly than population, giving men leisure for the cultivation of their minds and those of their children. Increased intelligence enables man from year to year to obtain larger loans from the great bank--the earth--while with the increased diversification of labour he is enabled more and more to repay them by the restoration of the manure to the place from which the food had been derived. Here are laws tending to the promotion of kindly feelings, and to the enabling of man to carry fully into effect the great law which lies at the base of Christianity--doing to his neighbours as he would that they should do unto him. They are laws whose constant and uniform truth may be seen in reference to every description of capital and of labour, and in all the communities of the world, large and small, in present and in past times. Being _laws_, they admit of no exceptions any more than do the great astronomical ones. They recognise the whole product of labour as being the property of the labourer of the past and the present; the former represented by the proprietor of the machine, and the latter by the man who uses it, and who finds himself every day more and more able to accumulate the means of becoming himself a proprietor. The English system does not recognise the existence of universal laws. According to it, land, labour, and capital, are the three instruments of production, and they are governed by different laws. Labour, when it seeks aid from land, is supposed to begin with good machinery and to pass toward the worst, with constantly increasing power in the owner of the land; whereas, when it seeks aid from the steam-engine, it passes from poor to good, with diminishing power in the owner of capital. There is thus one set of laws for the government of the great machine itself--the earth--and another for that of all its parts. Under the first, value is supposed to increase because of the diminished productiveness of labour, whereas under the last it is supposed to diminish because of the increased productiveness of labour. The two point to opposite poles of the compass, and the only mode of reconciling them is found in the supposition that as the power of production diminishes with the increasing necessity for resorting to inferior soils, the power of accumulating capital tends to increase, and thus counterbalances the disadvantages resulting from the necessity for applying labour less and less advantageously. Who is it, however, that is to furnish this capital? Is it the labourer? He cannot do it, for he cultivates "the inferior soils," and retains for himself a constantly diminishing proportion of a constantly diminishing product. Is it the landlord? His proportion increases, it is true, but his _quantity_ diminishes in its proportion to population, as his tenants are forced to resort to less productive soils. The power to accumulate is dependent on the quantity of time and labour required for obtaining present subsistence; and as that increases with the necessity for resorting to poorer machinery, the power to obtain machines to be used in aid of labour dies away. Such being the case, it is clear that if men are obliged, in obedience to a great natural law, to pass steadily from rich soils to poor ones yielding less returns to labour, no compensation can anywhere be found, and that the elder Mill was right when he said that the power of accumulation must cease, and wages must fall so low that men "would perish of want;" in preference to doing which they would, of course, sell themselves, their wives, and children, into, slavery. Of all the English writers on this subject, he is the only one that has had the courage to follow out the Ricardo-Malthusian system to its necessary conclusions, and proclaim to the world the existence of a great law of nature leading _inevitably_ to the division of society into two great portions, the very rich and the very poor--the master and the slave. There are thus two systems--one of which proclaims that men can thrive only at the expense of their neighbours, and the other that they "prosper with the prosperity of those neighbours--one that teaches utter selfishness, and another teaching that enlightened selfishness which prompts men to rejoice in the advances of their fellow-men toward wealth and civilization--one that leads to internal discord and foreign war, and another teaching peace, union, and brotherly kindness throughout--the world--one that teaches the doctrine of despair and death, and another teaching joy and hope--one that is anti-christian in all its tendencies, teaching that we must _not_ do to our neighbour in distress as we would that he should do to us, but that, on the contrary our duty requires that we should see him suffer, unrelieved, every calamity short of "positive death," and another teaching in its every page that if individuals or nations would thrive, they can do so _only_ on the condition of carrying into full effect the great law of Christ--"That which ye would that others should do unto you, do ye unto them." Both of these systems cannot be true. Which of them is so is to be settled by the determination of the great fact whether the Creator made a mistake in providing that the poor settler should commence on the low and rich lands, leaving the poor soils of the hills to his successors, who obtain from them a constantly diminishing supply of food--or whether, in his infinite wisdom, he provided that the poor man, destitute, of axe and spade, should go to the poor and dry land of the hills, requiring neither clearing nor drainage, leaving the heavily timbered and swamp lands for his wealthy successors. If the first, then the laws of God tend to the perpetuation of slavery, and the English political economy is right in all its parts, and should be maintained. If the last, then is it wrong in all its parts, and duty to themselves, to their fellow-men throughout the world, and to the great Giver of all good things, requires that it be at once and for ever abandoned. It is time that enlightened Englishmen should examine into this question. When they shall do so, it will require little time to satisfy themselves that every portion of their own island furnishes proof that cultivation commenced on the poor soils, and that from the day when King Arthur held his court in a remote part of Cornwall to that on which Chatfield Moss was drained, men have been steadily obtaining _more productive_ soils at _less cost_ of labour, and that not only are they now doing so, but that it is difficult to estimate how far it may be carried. Every discovery in science tends to facilitate the making of those combinations of matter requisite for the production of food, giving better soils at diminished cost. Every new one tends to give to man increased power to command the use of those great natural agents provided for his service, and to enable him to obtain more and better food, more and better clothing, more and better house-room, in exchange for less labour, leaving him more time for the improvement of his mind, for the education of his children, and for the enjoyment of those recreations which tend to render life pleasurable. The reverse of all this is seen under the English system. The more numerous the discoveries in science, and the greater the command of man over the powerful natural agents given for diminishing labour, the more severe and unintermitting becomes his toil, the less becomes his supply of food, the poorer becomes his clothing, the more wretched becomes his lodging, the less time can be given to the improvement of his mind, the more barbarous grow up his children, the more is his wife compelled to work in the field, and the less is his time for enjoyment;--as witness all those countries over which England now exercises dominion, and as witness to so great an extent the present condition of her own people, as exhibited by those of her own writers quoted in a former chapter. Selfishness and Christianity cannot go together, nor can selfishness and national prosperity. It is purely selfish in the people of England to desire to prevent the people of the various nations of the world from profiting by their natural advantages, whether of coal, iron ore, copper, tin, or lead. It is injurious to themselves, because it keeps their neighbours poor, while they are subjected to vast expense in the effort to keep them from rebelling against taxation. They maintain great fleets and armies, at enormous expense, for the purpose of keeping up a system that destroys their customers and themselves; and this they must continue to do so long as they shall hold to the doctrine which teaches that the only way to secure a fair remuneration to capital is to keep the price of labour down, because it is one that produces discord and slavery, abroad and at home; whereas, under that of peace, hope, and freedom, they would need neither fleets nor armies. It is to the country of Hampden and Sidney that the world _should_ be enabled to look for advice in all matters affecting the cause of freedom; and it is to her that all _would_ look, could her statesmen bring themselves to understand how destructive to herself and them is the system of centralization she now seeks to establish. As it is, slavery grows in all the countries under her control, and freedom grows in no single country of the world but those which protect themselves against her system. It is time that the enlightened and liberal men of England should study the cause of this fact; and whenever they shall do so they will find a ready explanation of the growing pauperism, immorality, gloom, and slavery of their own country; and they will then have little difficulty in understanding that the protective tariffs of all the advancing nations of Europe are but measures of resistance to a system of enormous oppression, and that it is in that direction that the people of this country are to look for _the true and only road to freedom of trade and the freedom of man_. It is time that such men should ask themselves whether or not their commercial policy can, by any possibility, aid the cause of freedom, abroad or at home. The nations of the world are told of the "free and happy people" of England; but when they look to that country to ascertain the benefits of freedom, they meet with frightful pauperism, gross immorality, infanticide to an extent unknown in any other part of the civilized world, and a steadily increasing division of the people into two great classes--the very rich and the very poor--with an universal tendency to "fly from ills they know," in the hope of obtaining abroad the comfort and happiness denied them at home. Can this benefit the cause of freedom?--The nations are told of the enlightened character of the British government, and yet, when they look to Ireland, they can see nothing but poverty, famine, and pestilence, to end in the utter annihilation of a nation that has given to England herself many of her most distinguished men. If they look to India, they see nothing but poverty, pestilence, famine, and slavery; and if they cast their eyes toward China, they see the whole power of the nation put forth to compel a great people to submit to the fraudulent introduction of a commodity, the domestic production of which is forbidden because of its destructive effects upon the morals, the happiness, and the lives of the community.[217] --The nations are told that England "Is the asylum of nations, and that it _will defend the asylum to the last ounce of its treasure and the last drop of its blood_. There is," continues _The Times_, "no point whatever on which we are prouder or more resolute." Nevertheless, when they look to the countries of Europe that furnish the refugees who claim a place in this asylum, they see that England is everywhere at work to prevent the people from obtaining the means of raising themselves in the social scale. So long as they shall continue purely agricultural, they must remain poor, weak, and enslaved, and their only hope for improvement is from that association of the loom and the plough which gave to England her freedom; and yet England is everywhere their opponent, seeking to annihilate the power of association.--The nations are told of the vast improvement of machinery, by aid of which man is enabled to call to his service the great powers of nature, and thus improve not only his material but his intellectual condition; but, when they look to the colonies and to the allies of England, they see everywhere a decay of intellect; and when they look to the independent countries, they see her whole power put forth to prevent them from doing any thing but cultivate the earth and exhaust the soil. It is time that enlightened Englishmen should look carefully at these things, and answer to themselves whether or not they are thus promoting the cause of freedom. That they are not, must be the answer of each and every such man. That question answered, it will be for them to look to see in which direction lies the path of duty; and fortunate will it be if they can see that interest and duty can be made to travel in company with each other. To the women of England much credit is due for having brought this question before the world. It is one that should have for them the deepest interest. Wherever man is unable to obtain machinery, he is forced to depend on mere brute labour; and he is then so poor that his wife must aid him in the labours of the field, to her own degradation, and to the neglect of her home, her husband, her children, and herself. She is then the most oppressed of slaves. As men obtain machinery, they obtain command of great natural agents, and mind gradually takes the place of physical force; and then labour in the field becomes more productive, and the woman passes from out-of-door to in-door employments, and with each step in this direction she is enabled to give more care to her children, her husband, and herself. From being a slave, and the mother of slaves, she passes to becoming a free woman, the mother of daughters that are free, and the instructor of those to whom the next generation is to look for instruction. The English system looks to confining the women of the world to the labours of the field, and such is its effect everywhere. It looks, therefore, to debasing and enslaving them and their children. The other looks to their emancipation from slavery, and their elevation in the social scale; and it can scarcely fail to be regarded by the women as well as by the men of England as a matter of duty to inquire into the grounds upon which their policy is based, and to satisfy themselves if it can be possible that there is any truth in a system which tends everywhere to the production of slavery, and therefore to the maintenance of the slave trade throughout the world. FOOTNOTES: [1] Edwards' West Indies, vol. i. p. 255. [2] Macpherson's Annals of Commerce, vol. iii. 575. [3] Macpherson's Annals of Commerce, vol. iv. 155. [4] Martin's Colonial Library, West Indies, vol. i. 90. [5] Macpherson, vol. iv. 155. [6] Ibid. [7] Montgomery's West Indies, vol. ii. 114 [8] Macpherson, vol. iv. 155, 228. [9] Macpherson, vol. iv. 155. [10] The export to the foreign West Indies, from 1783 to 1787, is given by Macpherson at nearly 20,000. [11] The causes of these diminutions will be exhibited in a future chapter. [12] Macpherson, vol. iv. 144. [13] The Cape and the Kaffirs, by Harriet Ward, London, 1852. [14] Notes on Jamaica in 1850, p. 64. [15] Ibid. 68. [16] State and Prospects of Jamaica. [17] The Corentyne. [18] East bank of Berbice river. [19] West ditto. [20] West coast of Berbice. [21] Prospective Review, Nov. 1852, 504. [22] The Celt, the Roman, and the Saxon, by Thomas Wright, p. 87. [23] Ibid. p. 56. [24] Where population and wealth diminish, the rich soils are abandoned and men retire to the poorer ones, as is seen in the abandonment of the delta of Egypt, of the Campagna, of the valley of Mexico, and of the valleys of the Tigris and the Euphrates. [25] The land of England itself has become and is becoming more consolidated, the cause of which will be shown in a future chapter. [26] Dallas's History of the Maroons, vol. i. page c. [27] Macpherson, vol. iii. 394. [28] Ibid. 574. [29] Ibid. vol. iv. 255. [30] Dallas's History of the Maroons, vol. i. cvii. [31] Ibid. cv. [32] Dallas's History of the Maroons, vol. ii. 358. [33] See page 14, _ante_. [34] Coleridge's "Six Months in the West Indies," 131. [35] See pages 71-2, _ante_. [36] Martin's West Indies. [37] Tooke's History of Prices, vol. ii. 412. [38] The reader who may desire to see this law fully demonstrated, may do so on referring to the author's Principles of Political Economy, vol. i. chap. v. [39] Bigelow, Notes, 129. [40] Ibid, 31. [41] Ibid, 69. [42] Bigelow, 125. [43] Speech of Mr. James Wilson, December 10, 1852. On the same occasion it was stated that "the lower orders" are daily "putting aside all decency," while "the better class appear to have lost all hope," and that the Governor, Sir Charles Grey, "described things as going on from bad to worse." The cholera had carried off, as was stated, 40,000 persons. [44] The following case illustrates in a very striking manner the value that is given to things that must be wasted among an exclusively agricultural population,--and it is but one of thousands that might be adduced: WHAT OLD BONES AND BITS OF SKIN MAY BE GOOD FOR.--How to get a penny-worth of beauty out of old bones and bits of skin, is a problem which the French gelatine makers have solved very prettily. Does the reader remember some gorgeous sheets of colored gelatine in the French department of the Great Exhibition? We owed them to the slaughter-houses of Paris. These establishments are so well organized and conducted, that all the refuse is carefully preserved, to be applied to any purposes for which it may be deemed fitting. Very pure gelatine is made from the waste fragments of skin, bone, tendon, ligature, and gelatinous tissue of the animals slaughtered in the Parisian _abbatoirs_, and thin sheets of this gelatine are made to receive very rich and beautiful colors. As a gelatinous liquid, when melted, it is used in the dressing of woven stuffs, and in the clarification of wine; and as a solid, it is cut into threads for the ornamental uses of the confectioner, or made into very thin white sheets of _papier glace_, for copying, drawing, or applied to the making of artificial flowers, or used as a substitute for paper, on which gold printing may be executed. In good sooth, when an ox has given us our beef, and our leather, and our tallow, his career of usefulness is by no means ended; we can get a penny out of him as long as there is a scrap of his substance above ground--_Household Words_. [45] The superficial area of the State is 64,000 square miles, being greater than that of England, and double that of Ireland. [46] Despotism in America, 127. [47] De Bow's Commercial Review, new series, vol. ii. 137. [48] The tobacco grower "has the mortification of seeing his tobacco, bought from him at sixpence in bond, charged three shillings duty, and therefore costing the broker but 3s. 6d. and selling in the shops of London at ten, twelve, and sixteen shillings." (Urquhart's Turkey, 194.) The same writer informs his readers that the tobacco dealers were greatly alarmed when it was proposed that the duty should be reduced, because then everybody with £10 capital could set up a shop. The slave who works in the tobacco-field is among the largest taxpayers for the maintenance of foreign traders and foreign governments. [49] Statistique de l'Agriculture de la France, 129. [50] Urquhart's Resources of Turkey, 179. [51] Equivalent to light port-charges, the anchorage being only sixteen cents per ship. [52] Beaujour's Tableau du Commerce de la Greece, quoted by Urquhart, 47. [53] Urquhart, 150. [54] The recent proceedings in regard to the Turkish loan are strikingly illustrative of the exhausting effects of a system that looks wholly to the export of the raw produce of the earth, and thus tends to the ruin of the soil and of its owner. [55] Urquhart, 257. [56] Ibid. 202. [57] Turkey, and its Destiny, by C. Mac Farlane, Esq., 1850. [58] Mac Farlane, vol. i, 46. [59] Mac Farlane, vol. ii, 242. [60] Ibid. 296. [61] Ibid. vol. i. 37. [62] History of British India, vol. i. 46. [63] Historical Fragments, 402. [64] "The country was laid waste with fire and sword, and that land distinguished above most others by the cheerful face of fraternal government and protected labour, the chosen seat of cultivation and plenty, is now almost throughout a dreary desert covered with rushes and briers, and jungles full of wild beasts. * * * That universal, systematic breach of treaties, which had made the British faith proverbial in the East! These intended rebellions are one of the Company's standing resources. When money has been thought to be hoarded up anywhere, its owners are universally accused of rebellion, until they are acquitted of their money and their treasons at once! The money once taken, all accusation, trial, and punishment ends."--_Speech on Fox's East India Bill_. [65] Quoted in Thompson's Lectures on India, 61. [66] Colonel Sykes states the proportion collected in the Deccan as much less than is above given [67] Rickards, vol. i. 288. [68] Vol. ii. 218. [69] Rickards, vol i. 500. [70] Ibid. 559. [71] Ibid. 558. [72] Ibid. 558. [73] Campbell's Modern India, London, 1852, 356. [74] Campbell's Modern India, 357. [75] Baines's History of the Cotton Manufacture. [76] Campbell's Modern India, 332. [77] Ibid. 381. [78] Campbell's Modern India, 105. [79] Rambles in India, by Col. Sleeman, vol. i. p. 296. [80] Speech of Mr. G. Thompson in the House of Commons. [81] See page 133 _ante_. [82] Chapman's Commerce and Cotton of India, 74. [83] Chapman, Cotton and Commerce of India, 28. [84] Taking the last six of the thirteen years, the price of cotton was 2d. a pound, and if the produce of a beegah was 6s. 6d., of this the government took sixty-eight per cent. of the gross produce; and taking the two years 1841 and 1842, cotton was 1-3/4 d. a pound, and the produce of a beegah was 5s. 8d. On this the assessment was actually equal to seventy-eight per cent. on the gross produce of the land.--_Speech of Mr. Bright in the House of Commons_. [85] Chapman's Commerce and Cotton of India, 110. [86] Chapman, 167. [87] Rambles, vol. i. 205. [88] Ibid. 268. [89] Ibid. vol. ii. 147. [90] Ibid. 153. [91] Ibid. 185. [92] Ibid. 199. [93] Chapman, 97. [94] Thompson's Lectures on India, 57. [95] Ibid. 185. [96] Chapman, 22. [97] Ibid, 25. [98] Rambles in India, vol. ii. 109. [99] Modern India, 394 [100] Thompson, Lectures on India, 25. [101] The destruction of life in China from this extension of the market for the produce of India is stated at no less than 400,000 per annum. How this trade is regarded in India itself, by Christian men, may be seen from the following extract from a review, recently published in the Bombay _Telegraph_, of papers in regard to it published in Hunt's Merchants' Magazine, in which the review is now republished:-- "That a professedly Christian government should, by its sole authority and on its sole responsibility, produce a drug which is not only contraband, but essentially detrimental to the best interests of humanity; that it should annually receive into its treasury crores of rupees, which, if they cannot, save by a too licentious figure, be termed 'the price of blood,' yet are demonstrably the price of the physical waste, the social wretchedness, and moral destruction of the Chinese; and yet that no sustained remonstrances from the press, secular or spiritual, nor from society, should issue forth against the unrighteous system, is surely an astonishing fact in the history of our Christian ethics. "_An American, accustomed to receive from us impassioned arguments against his own nation on account of slavery, might well be pardoned were he to say to us, with somewhat of intemperate feeling, 'Physician, heal thyself_,' and to expose with bitterness the awful inconsistency of Britain's vehement denunciation of American slavery, while, by most deadly measures, furthering Chinese demoralization." The review, in referring to the waste of human life, closes as follows:-. "What unparalleled destruction! The immolations of an Indian Juggernauth dwindle into insignificance before it! We again repeat, nothing but slavery is worthy to be compared for its horrors with this monstrous system of iniquity. As we write, we are amazed at the enormity of its unprincipledness, and the large extent of its destructiveness. Its very enormity seems in some measure to protect it. Were it a minor evil, it seems as though one might grapple with it. As it is, it is beyond the compass of our grasp. No words are adequate to expose its evil, no fires of indignant feeling are fierce enough to blast it. "The enormous wealth it brings into our coffers is its only justification, the cheers of vice-enslaved wretches its only welcome; the curses of all that is moral and virtuous in an empire of three hundred and sixty millions attend its introduction; the prayers of enlightened Christians deprecate its course; the indignation of all righteous minds is its only 'God-speed.' "It takes with it fire and sword, slaughter and death; it leaves behind it bankrupt fortunes, idiotized minds, broken hearts, and ruined souls. Foe to all the interests of humanity, hostile to the scanty virtues of earth; and warring against the overflowing benevolence of heaven, may we soon have to rejoice over its abolition!" [102] Campbell, 390. [103] Ibid. 393. [104] Campbell, 384. [105] Ibid. 377. [106] Campbell, 359. [107] Ibid. 332. [108] Ibid. 345 [109] Chapman on the Commerce of India, 88. [110] Lawson's Merchants' Magazine, January, 1853, 58. [111] Ibid. 51. [112] See page 140, _ante_. [113] Backhouse's Visit to the Mauritius, 35. [114] The danger of interference, even with the best intentions, when unaccompanied by knowledge, is thus shown by the same author, in speaking of Madagascar:-- "Dreadful wars are waged by the queen against other parts of the island, in which all the male prisoners above a certain stature are put to death, and the rest made slaves. This she is enabled to effect, by means of the standing army which her predecessor Radama was recommended to keep by the British. * * How lamentable is the reflection that the British nation, with the good intention of abolishing the slave trade, should have strengthened despotic authority and made way for all its oppressive and depopulating results, by encouraging the arts of war instead of those of peace!"--P. 24. [115] Thompson's Lectures on British India, 187. [116] Lawson's Merchants' Magazine, January, 1853, 14. [117] Bigelow's "Jamaica in 1850," 17. [118] Sophisms of Free Trade, by J. Barnard Byles, Esq. [119] Speech of Mr. T. F. Meagher, 1847. [120] The following paragraph from an Irish journal exhibits strikingly the amount of political freedom exercised at the scene of these evictions:-- "Lord Erne held his annual show in Ballindreat, on Monday, the 25th ult, and after having delivered himself much as usual in regard to agricultural matters, he proceeded to lecture the assembled tenants on the necessity of implicit obedience to those who were placed over them, in reference not only to practical agriculture, but the elective franchise. To such of the tenants as his lordship considered to be of the right stamp, and who proved themselves so by voting for Sir Edmund Hayes and Thomas Connolly, Esq., the 15 per cent. in full would be allowed--to those who split their votes between one or other of these gentlemen and Campbell Johnston, Esq., 7-1/2 per cent.; but to the men who had the manliness to 'plump' for Johnston, no reduction of rents would be allowed this year, or any other until such parties might redeem their character at another election."--_Cork Examiner_, Nov. 8, 1852. [121] Thornton on Over-population, 248. [122] Ibid. 250. [123] McCulloch, Stat. Acct. of British Empire, vol. I. 315. [124] Times Newspaper, June 7th, 1844. [125] Report of Highland Emigration Committee, 1841. [126] Lectures on the Social and Moral Condition of the People, by various Ministers of the Gospel. Glasgow. [127] See page 71, _ante_. [128] Kay's Social Condition of England and of Europe, vol. i. 70 [129] Ibid. 359. [130] Kay's Social Condition of England and of Europe, vol. 1, 183. [131] On a recent occasion in the House of Lords, it was declared to be important to retain Canada, on the express ground that it greatly facilitated smuggling. [132] Alton Locke. [133] Lord Ashley informs us that there are 30,000 poor children such as these in London alone. [134] Reports of the Health of Towns Commission, vol. i. 127. [135] City Mission Magazine, Oct. 1847. [136] See page 224, _ante_. [137] The import of 1850 was 103,713 lbs., and that of 1852, 251,792 lbs. [138] The reader who may desire to see this more fully exhibited is referred to the author's work, "The Past, the Present, and the Future." [139] See page 59, _ante_. [140] "It may be doubted, considering the circumstances under which most Irish landlords acquired their estates, the difference between their religious tenets and those of their tenants, the peculiar tenures under which the latter hold their lands, and the political condition of the country, whether their residence would have been of any considerable advantage. * * * The question really at issue refers merely to the _spending_ of revenue, and has nothing to do with the improvement of estates; and notwithstanding all that has been said to the contrary, I am not yet convinced that absenteeism is, in this respect, at all injurious."--_Principles_, 157. [141] Treatises and Essays on Subjects connected with Economical Policy. [142] Chapman, Commerce of India. [143] During all this time there was a large increase in the import of food from Ireland; and this, of course, constituted a portion of domestic produce exported in the shape of manufactures, the whole proceeds of which were to be retained at home. Since 1846, the change in that country has been so great that she is now a large importer of foreign grain. The official return for 1849 shows a diminution in the quantity raised, as compared with 1844, of no less than 9,304,607 quarters; and instead of sending to England, as she had been accustomed to do, more than three millions of quarters, she was an importer in that year and the following one of more than a million. This deficiency had to be made up from abroad, and thus was the United Kingdom transformed from the position of seller of four or five millions of quarters--say about 40 millions of our bushels--of which it retained the _whole proceeds_, to that of the mere shopkeeper, who retains only the _profit_ on the same quantity. A similar state of things might be shown in regard to many of the other articles of produce above enumerated. [144] in 1834, Mr. McCulloch estimated the produce of the land of great Britain at 146 millions, but at that time wheat was calculated at 50s. A quarter, or almost one-half more than the average of the last two or three years. Other and larger calculations may readily be found; but it would be difficult to determine what becomes of the product if it be not found in rent, farmers' profits, or labourers' wages. [145] By reference to the report of the Assistant Commissioner, charged with the inquiry into the condition of women and children employed in agriculture, it will be seen that a change of clothes seems to be out of the question. The upper parts of the under-clothes of women at work, even their stays, quickly become wet with perspiration, while the lower parts cannot escape getting equally wet in nearly every kind of work in which they are employed, except in the driest weather. It not unfrequently happens that a woman, on returning from work, is obliged to go to bed for an hour or two to allow her clothes to be dried. It is also by no means uncommon for her, if she does not do this, to put them on again the next morning nearly as wet as when she took them off. [146] _London Labour and London Poor_. [147] The returns of imports into Great Britain are given according to an official value, established more than a century since, and thus the sum of the values is an exact measure of the quantities imported. [148] The reader will remark that of all the machinery of England but a small portion is required for the _forced_ foreign trade that is thus produced. [149] The whole appropriation for the education of ten millions of people in Western India is stated, in recent memorial from Bombay, to be only £12,500, or $60,000, being six cents for every ten persons. [150] North British Review, Nov. 1852. [151] Edinburgh Review, Oct. 1849. The italics are those of the reviewer. [152] See page 160, _ante_. [153] Lawson's Merchants' Mag., Dec. 1852. [154] Senior, Outlines of Political Economy, 152. [155] At a recent discussion in the London Statistical Society, land in England was valued at thirty years' purchase, houses at fifteen, and land in Ireland at eighteen. [156] This will appear a very small estimate when compared with those usually made, but it is equal to the total production of the land and labour of the country for a year and a half, if not for a longer period; and it would be difficult to prove that if the whole labour and capital of the country were applied to that purpose--food and clothing being supplied from abroad--it could not produce a quantity of commodities equal in value to those now accumulated in England. Even, however, were the amount placed at a thousand millions, the amount of wealth would still be small, under the circumstances of the case. [157] See page 105 _ante_. [158] The latest number of the Bankers' Magazine contains statements of two banks whose joint capitals and reserved funds are about £200,000, while their investments are about a million!--and this, would seem to be about the usual state of affairs with most of the English banks. [159] Bankers' Magazine, Sept. 1852 [160] The amount of expenditure for English railroads is put down at from two to three hundreds of millions of pounds; and yet the real investment was only that of the labour employed in grading the roads, building the bridges, driving the tunnels, and making the iron; and if we take that at £8000 per mile, we obtain only 54 millions. All the balance was merely a transfer of property already existing from one owner to another, as in the case of the land, which in some cases cost ten or twelve thousands of pounds per mile. [161] See page 240, _ante_. [162] North British Review, Nov. 1852. [163] This tendency is exhibited in most of the books that treat of the system. Thus, Mr. McCulloch insists on the beneficial effect of _the fear_ of taxation, as will be seen in the following passage:-- "To the desire of rising in the world, implanted in the breast of every individual, an increase of taxation superadds the fear of being cast down to a lower station, of being deprived of conveniences and gratifications which habit has rendered all but indispensable--and the combined influence of the two principles produces results that could not be produced by the unassisted agency of either." This is only the lash of the slave-driver in another form. [164] Barter, The Dorp and the Veld. [165] Estimating the average cost of raising men and women at only $1000 each, the present forced export is equal to sending abroad a capital of four hundred millions of dollars, no return from which is to be looked for. [166] The recent movement of this institution in raising the rate of interest affords a striking example of its power, and of the absence of the judgment required for its exercise. For two years past the bank has aided in raising prices, but now it desires to reduce them, and at the cost, necessarily, of the weaker portions of the community, for the rich can always take care of themselves. The whole tendency of its operations is toward making the rich richer and the poor poorer. Sir Robert Peel undertook to regulate the great machine, but his scheme for that purpose failed, because he totally misconceived the cause of the evil, and of course applied the wrong remedy. It was one that could only aggravate the mischief, as he could scarcely have failed to see, had he studied the subject with the care its importance merited. [167] Page 230, _ante_. [168] Chap. VII. _ante_. [169] Message of President Roberts, Dec. 1849 [170] Lecture on the Relations of Free and Slave Labour, by David Christy, p. 46. [171] The Social Condition and Education of the People of England and Europe, i. 256. [172] Handbuch der Allgemeinen Staatskunde, vol. ii. 5, quoted by Kay, vol. i., 120. [173] Until recently, the increase of Great Britain has been slightly greater than that of Prussia, the former having grown at the rate of 1.95 per cent. per annum, and the latter at that of 1.84; but the rate of growth of the former has recently much diminished, and all growth has now probably ceased. [174] Die Agrarfrage. [175] Etudes sur l'Economie Politique. [176] Page 51, _ante_. [177] In no other country than England would the editor of a daily journal inflict upon his readers throughout the kingdom whole columns occupied with the names of persons present at a private entertainment, and with the dresses of the ladies. Where centralization has reached a height like this, we need scarcely be surprised to learn that there is but one _paying_ daily newspaper for a population of more than seventeen millions. [178] Rural and Domestic Life in Germany, 27. [179] Pictures from St. Petersburg, by E. Jerrmann, 22. [180] Pictures from St. Petersburg, 23. [181] The cargo of a ship that has recently sailed is stated to have consisted of more than a thousand females. [182] Laing's Denmark and the Duchies, London, 1852, 299. [183] Quoted by Kay, Social and Political Condition of England and the Continent, vol. i. 91. [184] Denmark and the Duchies, 42. [185] Ibid. 136. [186] Denmark and the Duchies, 368. [187] Ibid. 394. [188] Ibid. 388. [189] Denmark and the Duchies, 362. [190] Denmark and the Duchies, 294. [191] Denmark and the Duchies, 269. [192] _L'Espàgne en_ 1850, par M. Maurice Block, 145. [193] Ibid. pp. 157-159. [194] Bayard Taylor, in the _N. Y. Tribune_. [195] _L'Espàgne en_ 1850, 160. [196] Spain, her Institutions, her Politics, and her Public Men, by S. T. Wallis, 341. [197] The exact amount given by M. Block is 2,194,269,000 francs, but he does not state in what year the return was made. [198] By an official document published in 1849, it appears that while wheat sold in Barcelona and Tarragona (places of consumption) at an average of more than 25 francs, the price at Segovia, in Old Castile, (a place of production,) not 300 miles distant, was less than 10 francs for the same quantity.--_L'Espàgne en_ 1850, 131. [199] North British Review, Nov. 1852, art. _The Modern Exodus_. [200] M. de Jonnes, quoted by Mr. Wallis, p. 295. [201] Wallis's Spain, chap: ix. [202] It is a striking evidence of the injurious moral effect produced by the system which looks to the conversion of all the other nations of the world into mere farmers and planters, that Mr. Macgregor, in his work of Commercial Statistics, says, in speaking of the Methuen treaty, "we do not deny that there were advantages in having a market for our woollens in Portugal, especially one, of which, if not the principal, was the means afforded of sending them afterward by contraband into Spain."--Vol. ii. 1122. [203] In the first half of this period the export was small, whereas in the last one, 1836 to 1840, it must have been in excess of the growth of population. [204] From 1842 to 1845 the average crop was 2,250,000 bales, or half a million more than the average of the four previous years. From 1847 to 1850 the average was only 2,260,000 bales, and the price rose, which could not have been the case had the slave trade been as brisk between 1840 and 1845 as it had been between 1835 and 1840. [205] See page 108, _ante_, for the sale of the negroes of the Saluda Manufacturing Company. [206] The following passage from one of the journals of the day is worthy of careful perusal by those who desire to understand the working of the present system of revenue duties, under which the mills and furnaces of the country have to so great an extent been closed, and the farmers and planters of the country to so great an extent been driven to New York to make all their exchanges:-- "Mr. Matsell [chief of police, New York] tells us that during the six months ending 31st December, 1852, there have been 19,901 persons arrested for various offences, giving a yearly figure of nearly 40,000 arrests. * * * The number of arrests being 40,000, or thereabouts, in a population of say 600,000, gives a percentage of 6.6 on the whole number of inhabitants. We have no data to estimate the state of crime in Paris under the imperial _régime_; but in London the returns of the metropolitan police for 1850, show 70,827 arrests, out of a population of some two millions and a half, giving a percentage of less than three on the whole number of inhabitants. Thus crimes are in New York rather more than twice as frequent as in London. Indeed, if we make proper allowance for the superior vigilance, and organization of the metropolitan police of London, and for the notorious inefficiency of our own police force, we shall probably find that, in proportion to the population, there is in New York twice as much crime as in London. This is an appalling fact--a disgraceful disclosure."--_New York Herald_, March 21, 1853. [207] North British Review, Nov. 1852. [208] See Uncle Tom's Cabin, chap. xxxi. [209] Letters to Lord Aberdeen, by the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, 9, 10, 12. [210] Rev. Sidney Smith. [211] See page 109, _ante_. [212] It is commonly supposed that the road toward freedom lies through cheapening the products of slave labour; but the reader may readily satisfy himself that it is in that direction lies slavery. Freedom grows with growing wealth, not growing poverty. To increase the cost of raising slaves, and thus to _increase the value of man at home_, produces exactly the effect anticipated from the other course of operation, because the value of the land and its produce grows more rapidly than the value of that portion of the negro's powers that can be obtained from him as a slave--that is, without the payment of wages. [213] See page 280, _ante_. [214] The following statement of the operations of the past year completes the picture presented in Chapter IV.:-- "A tabular return, prepared by order of the House of Assembly of Jamaica, exhibiting the properties in that island 'upon which cultivation has been wholly or partially abandoned since the 1st day of January, 1852,' presents in a striking light one of the many injurious consequences that have followed the measure of negro emancipation in the British West Indies. The return, which is dated January 27, 1853, shows that 128 sugar estates have been totally abandoned during the year, and 71 partially abandoned; of coffee plantations, 96 have been totally, and 56 partially, abandoned; of country seats--residences of planters or their agents--30 have been totally, and 22 partially, abandoned. The properties thus nearly or wholly ruined by the ill-considered legislation of the British Parliament cover an area of 391,187 acres." [215] _Economist_, (London,) Feb. 12, 1863. [216] Spectator, Feb. 12, 1853. [217] The net revenue from the opium trade, for the current year, is stated to be no less than four millions of pounds sterling, or nearly twenty millions of dollars; and it is to that revenue, says _The Friend of India_, Nov. 25, 1852, that the Indian government has been indebted for its power to carry on the wars since 1838, those of Affghanistan, Seinde, Gwalior, the Punjab, and that now existing with Burmah. Well is it asked by Dr. Allen, in his pamphlet on "The Opium Trade," (Lowell, 1853,) "Can such an unrighteous course in a nation always prosper?" "How," says the same author, "can the Chinese "Regard the English in any other light than wholesale smugglers and wholesale dealers in poison? The latter can expend annually over two millions of dollars on the coast of Great Britain to protect its own revenue laws, but at the same time set at bold defiance similar laws of protection enacted by the former. The English are constantly supplying the Chinese a deadly poison, with which thousands yearly put an end to their existence. In England, even the druggists are expressly forbidden to sell arsenic, laudanum, or other poison, if they have the least suspicion that their customer intends to commit suicide. But in China every facility is afforded and material supplied under the British flag, and sanctioned by Parliament itself, for wholesale slaughter. How long will an enlightened and Christian nation continue to farm and grow a means of vice, with the proceeds of which, even when in her possession, a benighted and pagan nation disdains to replenish her treasury, being drawn from the ruin and misery of her people? Where is the consistency or humanity of a nation supporting armed vessels on the coast of Africa to intercept and rescue a few hundreds of her sons from a foreign bondage, when, at the same time, she is forging chains to hold millions on the coast of China in a far more hopeless bondage? And what must the world think of the religion of a nation that consecrates churches, ordains ministers of the gospel, and sends abroad missionaries of the cross, while, in the mean time, it encourages and upholds a vice which is daily inflicting misery and death upon more than four millions of heathen? And what must be the verdict of future generations, as they peruse the history of these wrongs and outrages? Will not the page of history, which now records £20,000,000 as consecrated on the altar of humanity to emancipate 800,000 slaves, lose all its splendour and become positively odious, when it shall be known that this very money was obtained from the proceeds of a contraband traffic on the shores of a weak and defenceless heathen empire, at the sacrifice, too, of millions upon millions of lives?"